note: corrections made in transcription are listed at the end of the file. the monarchies of continental europe the empire of russia from the remotest periods to the present time by john s. c. abbott boston: graves and young, cornhill. [illustration] preface. the world is now too busy to read voluminous history. the interminable details of battles, and the petty intrigues of courtiers and mistresses, have lost their interest. in this volume it has been our object to trace perspicuously the path which russia has trod from earliest infancy to the present hour. the career of this empire has been so wild and wonderful that the historian can have no occasion to call in the aid of fancy for the embellishment of his narrative. the author has not deemed it necessary to incumber his pages with notes to substantiate his statements. the renowned russian historian, karamsin, who wrote under the patronage of alexander i., gives ample authentication to all the facts which are stated up to the reign of that emperor. his voluminous history, in classic beauty, is unsurpassed by any of the annals of greece or rome. it has been admirably translated into french by messrs. st. thomas and jauffret in eleven imperial quarto volumes. in the critical citations of this author, the reader, curious in such researches, will find every fact in the early history of russia, here stated, confirmed. there are but few valuable works upon russia in the english language. nearly all, which can be relied upon as authorities, are written either in french or german. the writer would refer those who seek a more minute acquaintance with this empire, now rising so rapidly in importance, first of all to karamsin. the "histoire philosophique et politique de russie depuis les temps les plus reculés jusqu'au nos jours, par j. esneaux," paris, five volumes, is a valuable work. the "histoire de russie par pierre charles levesque," eight volumes, is discriminating and reliable. the various volumes of william tooke upon russian history in general, and upon the reign of catharine, contain much information. it is only since the reign of peter the great that russia has begun to attract much attention among the enlightened nations of europe. voltaire's life of this most renowned of the russian sovereigns, at its first publication, attracted much notice. since then, many books have been written upon fragments of russian history and individual reigns. from most of these the author has selected such events as have appeared to him most instructive and best adapted to give the reader a clear conception of the present condition and future prospects of this gigantic empire. the path she has trod, since her first emergence into civilization from the chaos of barbarism, can be very distinctly traced, and one can easily count the concentric accretions of her growth. this narrative reveals the mistakes which have overwhelmed her with woe, and the wisdom which has, at times, secured for russia peace and prosperity. in writing these histories of the monarchies of continental europe, the author has no wish to conceal his abhorrence of aristocratic usurpation. believing in the universal brotherhood of man, his sympathies are most cordially with the oppressed masses. if the people are weak and debased, the claim is only the more urgent upon the powerful and the wise to act the part of elder brothers, holding out the helping hand to those who have fallen. the author feels grateful for the reception which the first number of this series, the empire of austria, has received from the american public. he hopes that this volume will not prove less interesting or instructive. in the course of a few months it will be followed by the history of italy. contents. chapter i. parentage and birth of russia. from b.c. to a.d. . primeval russia.--explorations of the greeks.--scythian invasion.--character of the scythians.--sarmatia.--assaults upon the roman empire.--irruption of the alains.--conquests of trajan.--the gothic invasion,--the huns--their character and aspect.--the devastations of attila.--the avars.--results of comminglings of these tribes.--normans.--birth of the russian empire--the three sovereigns ruric, sineous and truvor.--adventures of ascolod and dir.--introduction of christianity.--usurpation of oleg.--his conquests.--expedition against constantinople. chapter ii. growth and consolidation of russia. from to . expedition to constantinople.--treaty with the emperor.--last days of oleg.--his death.--igor assumes the scepter.--his expedition to the don.--descent upon constantinople.--his defeat.--second expedition.--pusillanimity of the greeks.--death of igor.--regency of olga.--her character.--succession of sviatoslaf.--his impiety and ambition.--conquest of bulgaria.--division of the empire.--defeat, ruin and death of sviatoslaf.--civil war.--death of oleg.--flight of vladimir.--supremacy of yaropolk. chapter iii. reigns of vladimir, yaroslaf, ysiaslaf and vsevolod. from to . flight of vladimir.--his stolen bride.--the march upon kief.--debauchery of vladimir.--zealous paganism.--introduction of christianity.--baptism in the dnieper.--entire change in the character of vladimir.--his great reforms.--his death.--usurpation of sviatopolk the miserable.--accession of yaroslaf.--his administration and death.--accession of ysiaslaf.--his strange reverses,--his death.--vsevolod ascends the throne.--his two flights to poland.--appeals to the pope.--wars, famine and pestilence.--character of vsevolod. chapter iv. years of war and woe. from to . character of vsevolod.--succession of sviatopolk.--his discomfiture.--deplorable condition of russia.--death of sviatopolk.--his character.--accession of monomaque.--curious festival at kief.--energy of monomaque.--alarm of the emperor at constantinople.--horrors of war.--death of monomaque.--his remarkable character.--pious letter to his children.--accession of mstislaf.--his short but stormy reign.--struggles for the throne.--final victory of ysiaslaf.--moscow in the province of souzdal.--death of ysiaslaf.--wonderful career of rostislaf.--rising power of moscow.--georgievitch, prince of moscow. chapter v. mstislaf and andrÉ. from to . centralization of power at kief.--death of rostislaf.--his religious character.--mstislaf ysiaslavitch ascends the throne.--proclamation of the king.--its effect.--plans of andré.--scenes at kief.--return and death of mstislaf.--war in novgorod.--peace concluded throughout russia.--insult of andré and its consequences.--greatness of soul displayed by andré.--assassination of andré.--renewal of anarchy.--emigration from novgorod.--reign of michel.--vsevolod iii.--evangelization of bulgaria.--death of vsevolod iii.--his queen maria. chapter vi. the grand princes of vladimir, and the invasion of genghis khan. from to . accession of georges.--famine.--battle of lipetsk.--defeat of georges.--his surrender.--constantin seizes the scepter.--exploits of mstislaf.--imbecility of constantin.--death of constantin.--georges iii.--invasion of bulgaria.--progress of the monarchy.--right of succession.--commerce of the dnieper.--genghis khan.--his rise and conquests.--invasion of southern russia.--death of genghis khan.--succession of his son ougadai.--march of bati.--entrance into russia.--utter defeat of the russians. chapter vii. the sway of the tartar princes. from to . retreat of georges ii.--desolating march of the tartars.--capture of vladimir.--fall of moscow.--utter defeat of georges.--conflict of torjek.--march of the tartars toward the south.--subjugation of the polovtsi.--capture of kief.--humiliation of yaroslaf.--overthrow of the gaussian kingdom.--haughtiness of the tartars.--reign of alexander.--succession of yaroslaf.--the reign of vassuli.--state of christianity.--infamy of andré.--struggles with dmitri.--independence of the principalities.--death of andré. chapter viii. resurrection of the russian monarchy. from to . defeat of georges and the tartars.--indignation of the khan.--michel summoned to the horde.--his trial and execution.--assassination of georges.--execution of dmitri.--repulse and death of the embassador of the khan.--vengeance of the khan.--increasing prosperity of russia. --the great plague.--supremacy of simon.--anarchy in the horde.--plague and conflagration.--the tartars repulsed.--reconquest of bulgaria.--the great battle of koulikof.--utter rout of the tartars. chapter ix. dmitri, vassali, and the mogol tamerlane from to . recovery of dmitri.--new tartar invasion.--the assault and capture of moscow.--new subjugation of the russians.--lithuania embraces christianity.--escape of vassali from the horde.--death of dmitri.--tamerlane--his origin and career.--his invasion of india.--defeat of bajazet.--tamerlane invades russia.--preparations for resistance.--sudden retreat of the tartars.--death of vassali.--accession of vassali vassilievitch.--the disputed succession.--appeal to the khan.--rebellion of youri.--cruelty of vassali.--the retribution. chapter x. the illustrious ivan iii. from to . ivan iii.--his precocity and rising power.--the three great hordes.--russian expedition against kezan.--defeat of the tartars.--capture of constantinople by the turks.--the princess sophia.--her journey to russia, and marriage with ivan iii.--increasing renown of russia.--new difficulty with the horde.--the tartars invade russia.--strife on the banks of the oka.--letter of the metropolitan bishop.--unprecedented panic.--liberation of russia. chapter xi. the reign of vassili. from to . alliance with hungary.--a traveler from germany.--treaty between russia and germany.--embassage to turkey.--court etiquette.--death of the princess sophia.--death of ivan.--advancement of knowledge.--succession of vassili.--attack upon the horde.--rout of the russians.--the grand prince takes the title of emperor.--turkish envoy to moscow.--efforts to arm europe against the turks.--death of the emperor maximilian, and accession of charles v. to the empire of germany.--death of vassili. chapter xii. ivan iv.--his minority. from to . vassili at the chase.--attention to distinguished foreigners.--the autocracy.--splendor of the edifices.--slavery.--aristocracy.--infancy of ivan iv.--regency of hélène.--conspiracies and tumults.--war with sigismond of poland.--death of hélène.--struggles of the nobles.--appalling sufferings of dmitri.--incursion of the tartars.--successful conspiracy.--ivan iv. at the chase.--coronation of ivan iv. chapter xiii. the reign of ivan iv. from to . the title of tzar.--marriage of ivan iv.--virtues of his bride.--depraved character of the young emperor.--terrible conflagrations.--insurrections.--the rebuke.--wonderful change in the character of ivan iv.--confessions of sin and measures of reform.--sylvestre and alexis adachef.--the code of laws.--reforms in the church.--encouragement to men of science and letters.--the embassage of schlit.--war with kezan.--disasters and disgrace.--immense preparation for the chastisement of the horde.--the march.--repulse of the tauredians.--siege of kezan.--incidents of the siege. chapter xiv. the reign of ivan iv.--continued. from to . siege of kezan.--artifices of war.--the explosion of mines.--the final assault.--complete subjugation of kezan.--gratitude and liberality of the tzar.--return to moscow.--joy of the inhabitants.--birth of an heir to the crown.--insurrection in kezan.--the insurrection quelled.--conquest of astrachan.--the english expedition in search of a north-east passage to india.--the establishment at archangel.--commercial relations between france and russia.--russian embassy to england.--extension of commerce. chapter xv. the abdication of ivan iv. from to . terror of the horde in tauride.--war with gustavus vasa of sweden.--political punctilios.--the kingdom of livonia annexed to sweden.--death of anastasia.--conspiracy against ivan.--his abdication.--his resumption of the crown.--invasion of russia by the tartars and turks.--heroism of zerebrinow.--utter discomfiture of the tartars.--relations between queen elizabeth of england, and russia.--intrepid embassage.--new war with poland.--disasters of russia.--the emperor kills his own son.--anguish of ivan iv. chapter xvi. the storms of hereditary succession. from to . anguish and death of ivan iv.--his character.--feodor and dmitri.--usurpation of boris gudenow.--the polish election.--conquest of siberia.--assassination of dmitri.--death of feodor.--boris crowned king.--conspiracies.--reappearance of dmitri.--boris poisoned.--the pretender crowned.--embarrassments of dmitri.--a new pretender.--assassination of dmitri.--crowning of zuski.--indignation of poland.--historical romance. chapter xvii. a change of dynasty. from to . conquests by poland.--sweden in alliance with russia.--grandeur of poland.--ladislaus elected king of russia.--commotions and insurrections.--rejection of ladislaus and election of michael feodor romanow.--sorrow of his mother.--pacific character of romanow.--choice of a bride.--eudochia streschnew.--the archbishop feodor.--death of michael and accession of alexis.--love in the palace.--successful intrigue.--mobs in moscow.--change in the character of the tzar.--turkish invasions.--alliance between russia and poland. chapter xviii. the regency of sophia. from to . administration of feodor.--death of feodor.--incapacity of ivan.--succession of peter.--usurpation of sophia.--insurrection of the strelitzes.--massacre in moscow.--success of the insurrection.--ivan and peter declared sovereigns under the regency of sophia.--general discontent.--conspiracy against sophia.--her flight to the convent.--the conspiracy quelled.--new conspiracy.--energy of peter.--he assumes the crown.--sophia banished to a convent.--commencement of the reign of peter. chapter xix. peter the great. from to . young russians sent to foreign countries.--the tzar decides upon a tour of observation.--his plan of travel.--anecdote.--peter's mode of life in holland.--characteristic anecdotes.--the presentation of the embassador.--the tzar visits england.--life at deptford.--illustrious foreigners engaged in his service.--peter visits vienna.--the game of landlord.--insurrection in moscow.--return of the tzar, and measures of severity.--war with sweden.--disastrous defeat of narva.--efforts to secure the shores of the baltic.--designs upon the black sea. chapter xx. conquests and achievements of peter the great. from to . peter takes lake lagoda and the neva.--foundation of st. petersburg.--conquest of livonia.--marienburg taken by storm.--the empress catharine.--extraordinary efforts in building st. petersburg.--threat of charles xii.--deposition of augustus.--enthronement of stanislaus.--battle of pultowa.--flight of charles xii. to turkey.--increased renown of russia.--disastrous conflict with the turks.--marriage of alexis.--his character.--death of his wife.--the empress acknowledged.--conquest of finland.--tour of the tzar to southern europe. chapter xxi. the trial and condemnation of alexis, and death of the tzar. from to . the tzar's second visit to holland.--reception in france.--description of catharine.--domestic grief.--conduct of alexis.--letters from his father.--flight to germany.--thence to naples.--envoys sent to bring him back.--alexis excluded from the succession.--his trial for treason.--condemnation and unexpected death.--new efforts of the tzar for the welfare of russia.--sickness of peter.--his death.--succession of the empress catharine.--epitaph to the emperor. chapter xxii. the reign of catharine i., anne, the infant ivan and elizabeth. from to . energetic reign of catharine.--her sudden death.--brief reign of peter ii.--difficulties of hereditary succession.--a republic contemplated.--anne, daughter of ivan.--the infant ivan proclaimed king.--his terrible doom.--elizabeth, daughter of peter the great, enthroned.--character of elizabeth.--alliance with maria theresa.--wars with prussia.--great reverses of frederic of prussia.--desperate condition of frederic.--death of elizabeth.--succession of peter iii. chapter xxiii. peter iii. and his bride. from to . lineage of peter iii.--chosen by elizabeth as her successor.--the bride chosen for peter.--her lineage.--the courtship.--the marriage.--autobiography of catharine.--anecdotes of peter.--his neglect of catharine and his debaucheries.--amusements of the russian court.--military execution of a rat.--accession of peter iii. to the throne.--supremacy of catharine.--her repudiation threatened.--the conspiracy.--its successful accomplishment. chapter xxiv. the conspiracy; and accession of catharine ii. from to . peter iii. at oranienbaum.--catharine at peterhof.--the successful accomplishment of the conspiracy.--terror of peter.--his vacillating and feeble character.--flight to cronstadt.--repulse.--heroic counsel of munich.--peter's return to oranienbaum.--his suppliant letters to catharine.--his arrest.--imprisonment.--assasination.--proclamation of the empress.--her complicity in the crime.--energy of catharine's administration.--her expansive views and sagacious policy.--contemplated marriage with count orlof. chapter xxv. reign of catharine ii. from to . energy of catharine's administration.--titles of honor decreed to her.--code of laws instituted.--the assassination of the empress attempted.--encouragement of learned men.--catharine inoculated for the small-pox.--new war with turkey.--capture of crimea.--sailing of the russian fleet.--great naval victory.--visit of the prussian prince henry.--the sleigh ride.--plans for the partition of poland.--the hermitage.--marriage of the grand duke paul.--correspondence with voltaire and diderot. chapter xxvi. reign of catharine ii. from to . peace with turkey.--court of catharine ii.--her personal appearance and habits.--conspiracy and rebellion.--defeat of the rebels.--magnanimity of catharine ii.--ambition of the empress.--court favorite.--division of russia into provinces.--internal improvements.--new partition of poland.--death of the wife of paul.--second marriage of the grand duke.--splendor of the russian court.--russia and austria secretly combine to drive the turks out of europe.--the emperor joseph ii. chapter xxvii. termination of the reign of catharine ii. from to . statue of peter the great.--alliance between austria and russia.--independence of the crimea--the khan of the crimea.--vast preparations for war.--national jealousies.--tolerant spirit of catharine.--magnificent excursion to the crimea.--commencement of hostilities.--anecdote of paul.--peace.--new partition of poland.--treaty with austria and france.--hostility to liberty in france.--death of catharine.--her character. chapter xxviii. the reign of paul i. from to . accession of paul i. to the throne.--influence of hereditary transmission of power.--extravagance of paul.--his despotism.--the horse court martialed.--progress of the french revolution.--fears and violence of paul.--hostility to foreigners.--russia joins the coalition against france.--march of suwarrow.--character of suwarrow.--battle on the adda.--battle of novi.--suwarrow marches on the rhine.--his defeat and death.--paul abandons the coalition and joins france.--conspiracies at st. petersburg. chapter xxix. assassination of paul and accession of alexander. from to . assassination of paul i.--implication of alexander in the conspiracy.--anecdotes.--accession of alexander.--the french revolution.--alexander joins allies against france.--state of russia.--useful measures of alexander.--peace of amiens.--renewal of hostilities.--battle of austerlitz.--magnanimity of napoleon.--new coalition.--ambition of alexander.--battles of jena and eylau.--defeat of the russians. chapter xxx. reign of alexander i. from to . the field of eylau.--letter to the king of prussia.--renewal of the war--discomfiture of the allies.--battle of friedland.--the raft at tilsit.--intimacy of the emperors.--alexander's designs upon turkey.--alliance between france and russia.--object of the continental system.--perplexities of alexander.--driven by the nobles to war.--results of the russian campaign.--napoleon vanquished.--last days of alexander.--his sickness and death. chapter xxxi. nicholas. from to . abdication of constantine.--accession of nicholas.--insurrection quelled.--nicholas and the conspirator.--anecdote.--the palace of peterhof.--the winter palace.--presentation at court.--magnitude of russia.--description of the hellespont and dardanelles.--the turkish invasion.--aims of russia.--views of england and france.--wars of nicholas.--the polish insurrection.--war of the crimea.--jealousies of the leading nations.--encroachments.--death of nicholas.--accession of alexander ii. chapter i. parentage and birth of russia. from b.c. to a.d. . primeval russia.--explorations of the greeks.--scythian invasion.--character of the scythians.--sarmatia.--assaults upon the roman empire.--irruption of the alains.--conquests of trajan.--the gothic invasion.--the huns.--their character and aspect.--the devastations of attila.--the avars.--results of comminglings of these tribes.--normans.--birth of the russian empire.--the three sovereigns rurik, sineous and truvor.--adventures of ascolod and dir.--introduction of christianity.--usurpation of oleg.--his conquests.--expedition against constantinople. those vast realms of northern europe, now called russia, have been inhabited for a period beyond the records of history, by wandering tribes of savages. these barbaric hordes have left no monuments of their existence. the annals of greece and of rome simply inform us that they were there. generations came and departed, passing through life's tragic drama, and no one has told their story. about five hundred years before the birth of our saviour, the greeks, sailing up the bosphorus and braving the storms of the black sea, began to plant their colonies along its shores. instructed by these colonists, herodotus, who wrote about four hundred and forty years before christ, gives some information respecting the then condition of interior russia. the first great irruption into the wastes of russia, of which history gives us any record, was about one hundred years before our saviour. an immense multitude of conglomerated tribes, taking the general name of scythians, with their wives and their children, their flocks and their herds, and their warriors, fiercer than wolves, crossed the volga, and took possession of the whole country between the don and the danube. these barbarians did not molest the greek colonies, but, on the contrary, were glad to learn of them many of the rudiments of civilization. some of these tribes retained their ancestral habits of wandering herdsmen, and, with their flocks, traversed the vast and treeless plains, where they found ample pasture. others selecting sunny and fertile valleys, scattered their seed and cultivated the soil. thus the scythians were divided into two quite distinct classes, the herdsmen and the laborers. the tribes who then peopled the vast wilds of northern europe and asia, though almost innumerable, and of different languages and customs, were all called, by the greeks, scythians, as we have given the general name of indians to all the tribes who formerly ranged the forests of north america. the scythians were as ferocious a race as earth has ever known. they drank the blood of their enemies; tanned their skins for garments; used their skulls for drinking cups; and worshiped a sword as the image or emblem of their favorite deity, the god of war. philip of macedon was the first who put any check upon their proud spirit. he conquered them in a decisive battle, and thus taught them that they were not invincible. alexander the great assailed them and spread the terror of his arms throughout all the region between the danube and the dnieper. subsequently the roman legions advanced to the euxine, and planted their eagles upon the heights of the caucasus. the roman historians seem to have dropped the scythian name, and they called the whole northern expanse of europe and asia, sarmatia, and the barbarous inhabitants sarmatians. about the time of our saviour, some of these fierce tribes from the banks of the theiss and the danube, commenced their assaults upon the frontiers of the roman empire. this was the signal for that war of centuries, which terminated in the overthrow of the throne of the cæsars. the roman senate, enervated by luxury, condescended to purchase peace of these barbarians, and nations of savages, whose names are now forgotten, exacted tribute, under guise of payment for alliance, from the proud empire. but neither bribes, nor alliances, nor the sword in the hands of enervated rome, could effectually check the incursions of these bands, who were ever emerging, like wolves, from the mysterious depths of the north. in the haze of those distant times and remote realms, we catch dim glimpses of locust legions, emerging from the plains and the ravines between the black sea and the caspian, and sweeping like a storm cloud over nearly all of what is now called russia. these people, to whom the name of alains was given, had no fixed habitations; they conveyed their women and children in rude carts. their devastations were alike extended over europe and asia, and in the ferocity of their assaults they were as insensible to death as wild beasts could be. in the second century, the emperor trajan conquered and took possession of the province of dacia, which included all of lower hungary, transylvania, moldavia, wallachia and bessarabia. the country was divided into roman provinces, over each of which a prefect was established. in the third century, the goths, from the shores of the baltic, came rushing over the wide arena, with the howling of wolves and their gnashing of teeth. they trampled down all opposition, with their war knives drove out the romans, crossed the black sea in their rude vessels, and spread conflagration and death throughout the most flourishing cities and villages of bythinia, gallacia and cappadocia. the famous temple of diana at ephesus, these barbarians committed to the flames. they overran all greece and took athens by storm. as they were about to destroy the precious libraries of athens, one of their chieftains said, "let us leave to the greeks their books, that they, in reading them may forget the arts of war; and that we thus may more easily be able to hold them in subjection." these goths established an empire, extending from the black sea to the baltic, and which embraced nearly all of what is now european russia. towards the close of the fourth century, another of these appalling waves of barbaric inundation rolled over northern europe. the huns, emerging from the northern frontiers of china, traversed the immense intervening deserts, and swept over european russia, spreading everywhere flames and desolation. the historians of that day seem to find no language sufficiently forcible to describe the hideousness and the ferocity of these savages. they pressed down on the roman empire as merciless as wolves, and the cæsars turned pale at the recital of their deeds of blood. it is indeed a revolting picture which contemporaneous history gives us of these barbarians. in their faces was concentrated the ugliness of the hyena and the baboon. they tattooed their cheeks, to prevent the growth of their beards. they were short, thick-set, and with back bones curved almost into a semicircle. herbs, roots and raw meat they devoured, tearing their food with their teeth or hewing it with their swords. to warm and soften their meat, they placed it under their saddles when riding. nearly all their lives they passed on horseback. wandering incessantly over the vast plains, they had no fixed habitations, but warmly clad in the untanned skins of beasts, like the beasts they slept wherever the night found them. they had no religion nor laws, no conception of ideas of honor; their language was a wretched jargon, and in their nature there seemed to be no moral sense to which compassion or mercy could plead. such were the huns as described by the ancient historians. the goths struggled against them in vain. they were crushed and subjugated. the king of the goths, hermanric, in chagrin and despair, committed suicide, that he might escape slavery. thousands of the goths, in their terror, crowded down into the roman province of thrace, now the turkish province of romania. the empire, then in its decadence, could not drive them back, and they obtained a permanent foothold there. the huns thus attained the supremacy throughout all of northern europe. there were then very many tribes of diverse names peopling these vast realms, and incessant wars were waged between them. the domination which the huns attained was precarious, and not distinctly defined. the terrible attila ere long appears as the king of these huns, about the middle of the fifth century. this wonderful barbarian extended his sway from the volga to the rhine, and from the bosphorus to the shores of the baltic. where-ever he appeared, blood flowed in torrents. he swept the valley of the danube with flame and sword, destroying cities, fortresses and villages, and converting the whole region into a desert. at the head of an army of seven hundred thousand men, he plunged all europe into dismay. both the eastern and western empire were compelled to pay him tribute. he even invaded gaul, and upon the plains of chalons was defeated in one of the most bloody battles ever fought in europe. contemporary historians record that one hundred and six thousand dead were left upon the field. with the death of attila, the supremacy of the huns vanished. the irruption of the huns was a devastating scourge, which terrified the world. whole nations were exterminated in their march, until at last the horrible apparition disappeared, almost as suddenly as it arose. with the disappearance of the huns, central russia presents to us the aspect of a vast waste, thinly peopled, with the wrecks of nations and tribes, debased and feeble, living upon the cattle they herded, and occasionally cultivating the soil. and now there comes forward upon this theater of violence and of blood another people, called the sclavonians, more energetic and more intelligent than any who had preceded them. the origin of the sclavonians is quite lost in the haze of distance, and in the savage wilds where they first appeared. the few traditions which have been gleaned respecting them are of very little authority. from about the close of the fifth century the inhabitants of the whole region now embraced by european russia, were called sclavonians; and yet it appears that these sclavonians consisted of many nations, rude and warlike, with various distinctive names. they soon began to crowd upon the roman empire, and became more formidable than the goths or the huns had been. wading through blood they seized province after province of the empire, destroying and massacring often in mere wantonness. the emperor justinian was frequently compelled to purchase peace with them and to bribe them to alliance. and now came another wave of invasion, bloody and overwhelming. the avars, from the north of china, swept over asia, seized all the provinces on the black sea, overran greece, and took possession of most of the country between the volga and the elbe. the sclavonians of the danube, however, successfully resisted them, and maintained their independence. generations came and went as these hordes, wild, degraded and wretched, swept these northern wilds, in debasement and cruelty rivaling the wolves which howled in their forests. they have left no traces behind them, and the few records of their joyless lives which history has preserved, are merely the gleanings of uncertain tradition. the thinking mind pauses in sadness to contemplate the spectacle of these weary ages, when his brother man was the most ferocious of beasts, and when all the discipline of life tended only to sink him into deeper abysses of brutality and misery. there is here a problem in the divine government which no human wisdom can solve. there is consolation only in the announcement that what we know not now, we shall know hereafter. all these diverse nations blending have formed the present russians. along the shores of the baltic, these people assumed the name of scandinavians, and subsequently normans. toward the close of the eighth century, the normans filled europe with the renown of their exploits, and their banners bade defiance even to the armies of charlemagne. early in the ninth century they ravaged france, italy, scotland, england, and passed over to ireland, where they built cities which remain to the present day. "there is no manner of doubt," writes m. karamsin in his history of russia, "that five hundred years before christopher columbus, they had discovered north america, and instituted commerce with the natives." it is not until the middle of the ninth century, that we obtain any really reliable information respecting the inhabitants of central russia. they are described as a light-complexioned, flaxen-haired race, robust, and capable of great endurance. their huts were cheerless, affording but little shelter, and they lived upon the coarsest food, often devouring their meat raw. the greeks expressed astonishment at their agility in climbing precipitous cliffs, and admired the hardihood with which they plunged through bogs, and swam the most rapid and swollen streams. he who had the most athletic vigor was the greatest man, and all the ambition and energy of the nation were expended in the acquisition of strength and agility. they are ever described as strangers to fear, rushing unthinkingly upon certain death. they were always ready to accept combat with the roman legions. entire strangers to military strategy, they made no attacks in drilled lines or columns, but the whole tumultuous mass, in wild disorder rushed upon the foe, with the most desperate daring, having no guide but their own ferocity and the chieftains who led small bands. their weapons consisted of swords, javelins and poisoned arrows, and each man carried a heavy shield. as they crossed the danube in their bloody forays, incited by love of plunder, the inhabitants of the roman villages fled before them. when pursued by an invincible force they would relinquish life rather than their booty, even when the plunder was of a kind totally valueless in their savage homes. the ancient annals depict in appalling colors the cruelties they exercised upon their captives. they were, however, as patient in endurance as they were merciless in infliction. no keenness of torture could force from them a cry of pain. yet these people, so ferocious, are described as remarkably amiable among themselves, seldom quarreling, honest and truthful, and practicing hospitality with truly patriarchal grace. whenever they left home, the door was unfastened and food was left for any chance wayfarer. a guest was treated as a heavenly messenger, and was guided on his way with the kindest expressions for his welfare. the females, as in all barbaric countries, were exposed to every indignity. all the hard labor of life was thrown upon them. when the husband died, the widow was compelled to cast herself upon the funeral pile which consumed his remains. it is said that this barbarous custom, which christianity abolished, was introduced to prevent the wife from secretly killing her husband. the wife was also regarded as the slave of the husband, and they imagined that if she died at the same time with her husband, she would serve him in another world. the wives often followed their husbands to the wars. from infancy the boys were trained to fight, and were taught that nothing was more disgraceful than to forgive an injury. a mother was permitted, if she wished, to destroy her female children; but the boys were all preserved to add to the military strength of the nation. it was lawful, also, for the children to put their parents to death when they had become infirm and useless. "behold," exclaims a russian historian, "how a people naturally kind, when deprived of the light of revelation can remorselessly outrage nature, and surpass in cruelty the most ferocious animals." in different sections of this vast region there were different degrees of debasement, influenced by causes no longer known. a tribe called drevliens, nestor states, lived in the most gloomy forests with the beasts and like the beasts. they ate any food which a pig would devour, and had as little idea of marriage as have sheep or goats. among the sclavonians generally there appears to have been no aristocracy. each family was an independent republic. different tribes occasionally met to consult upon questions of common interest, when the men of age, and who had acquired reputation for wisdom, guided in counsel. gradually during the progress of their wars an aristocracy arose. warriors of renown became chiefs, and created for themselves posts of authority and honor. by prowess and plunder they acquired wealth. in their incursions into the empire, they saw the architecture of greece and rome, and thus incited, they began to rear castles and fortresses. he who was recognized as the leading warrior in time of battle, retained his authority in the days of peace, which were very few. the castle became necessary for the defense of the tribe or clan, and the chieftain became the feudal noble, invested with unlimited power. at one time every man who was rich enough to own a horse was deemed a noble. the first power recognized was only military authority. but the progress of civilization developed the absolute necessity of other powers to protect the weak, to repress crime, and to guide in the essential steps of nations emerging from darkness into light. with all nations advancing from barbarism, the process has ever been slow by which the civil authority has been separated from the military. it is impossible to educe from the chaos of those times any established principles. often the duke or leader was chosen with imposing ceremonies. some men of commanding abilities would gather into their hands the reins of almost unlimited power, and would transmit that power to their sons. others were chiefs but in name. we have but dim glimpses of the early religion of this people. in the sixth century they are represented as regarding with awe the deity whom they designated as the creator of thunder. the spectacle of the majestic storms which swept their plains and the lightning bolts hurled from an invisible hand, deeply impressed these untutored people. they endeavored to appease the anger of the supreme being by the sacrifice of bulls and other animals. they also peopled the groves, the fountains, the rivers with deities; statues were rudely chiseled, into which they supposed the spirits of their gods entered, and which they worshiped. they deemed the supreme being himself too elevated for direct human adoration, and only ventured to approach him through gods of a secondary order. they believed in a fallen spirit, a god of evil, who was the author of all the calamities which afflict the human race. the polished greeks chiseled their idols, from snow-white marble, into the most exquisite proportions of the human form. many they invested with all the charms of loveliness, and endowed them with the most amiable attributes. the voluptuous venus and the laurel-crowned bacchus were their gods. but the sclavonians, regarding their deities only as possessors of power and objects of terror, carved their idols gigantic in stature, and hideous in aspect. from these rude, scattered and discordant populations, the empire of russia quite suddenly sprang into being. its birth was one of the most extraordinary events history has transmitted to us. we have seen that the normans, dwelling along the southern and eastern shores of the baltic, and visiting the most distant coasts with their commercial and predatory fleets, had attained a degree of power, intelligence and culture, which gave them a decided preëminence over the tribes who were scattered over the wilds of central russia. a sclavonian, whose name tradition says was gostomysle, a man far superior to his countrymen in intelligence and sagacity, deploring the anarchy which reigned everywhere around him, and admiring the superior civilization of the normans, persuaded several tribes unitedly to send an embassy to the normans to solicit of them a king. the embassy was accompanied by a strong force of these fierce warriors, who knew well how to fight, but who had become conscious that they did not know how to govern themselves. their message was laconic but explicit: "our country," said they, "is grand and fertile, but under the reign of disorder. come and govern us and reign over us." three brothers, named rurik, sineous and truvor, illustrious both by birth and achievements, consented to assume the sovereignty, each over a third part of the united applicants; each engaging to coöperate with and uphold the others. escorted by the armed retinue which had come to receive them, they left their native shores, and entered the wilds of scandinavia. rurik established himself at novgorod, on lake ilmen. sineous, advancing some three hundred miles further, north-east, took his station at bielo ozero, on the shores of lake bielo. truvor went some hundred miles further south to truvor, in the vicinity of smolensk. thus there were three sovereigns established in russia, united by the ties of interest and consanguinity. it was then that this region acquired the name of russia, from the norman tribe who furnished these three sovereigns. the russia which thus emerged into being was indeed an infant, compared with the gigantic empire in this day of its growing and vigorous manhood. it embraced then but a few thousand square miles, being all included in the present provinces of st. petersburg, novgorod and pskov. but two years passed away ere sineous and truvor died, and rurik united their territories with his own, and thus established the russian monarchy. the realms of rurik grew, rapidly by annexation, and soon extended east some two hundred miles beyond where moscow now stands, to the head waters of the volga. they were bounded on the south-west by the dwina. on the north they reached to the wild wastes of arctic snows. over these distant provinces, rurik established governors selected from his own nation, the normans. these provincial governors became feudal lords; and thus, with the monarchy, the feudal system was implanted. feudality was the natural first step of a people emerging from barbarism. the sovereign rewarded his favorites, or compensated his servants, civil and military, by ceding to them provinces of greater or less extent, with unlimited authority over the people subject to their control. these lords acknowledged fealty to the sovereign, paid a stipulated amount of tribute, and, in case of war, were bound to enter the field with a given number of men in defense of the crown. it was a system essential, perhaps, to those barbarous times when there was no easy communication between distant regions, no codes of laws, and no authority, before which savage men would bow, but that of the sword. at this time two young norman nobles, inspired with that love of war and spirit of adventure which characterized their countrymen, left the court of rurik at novgorod, where they had been making a visit, and with well-armed retainers, commenced a journey to constantinople to offer their services to the emperor. it was twelve hundred miles, directly south, from novgorod to the imperial city. the adventurers had advanced about half way, when they arrived at a little village, called kief, upon the banks of the dnieper. the location of the city was so beautiful, upon a commanding bluff, at the head of the navigation of this majestic stream, and the region around seemed so attractive, that the norman adventurers, ascolod and dir by name, decided to remain there. they were soon joined by others of their warlike countrymen. the natives appear to have made no opposition to their rule, and thus kief became the center of a new and independent russian kingdom. these energetic men rapidly extended their territories, raised a large army, which was thoroughly drilled in all the science of norman warfare, and then audaciously declared war against greece and attempted its subjugation. the dnieper, navigable for boats most of the distance from kief to the euxine, favored their enterprise. they launched upon the stream two hundred barges, which they filled with their choicest troops. rapidly they floated down the stream, spread their sails upon the bosom of the euxine, entered the bosporus, and anchoring their fleet at the mouth of the golden horn, laid siege to the city. the emperor michael iii. then reigned at constantinople. this northmen invasion was entirely unexpected, and the emperor was absent, engaged in war with the arabs. a courier was immediately dispatched to inform him of the peril of the city. he hastily returned to his capital which he finally reached, after eluding, with much difficulty, the vigilance of the besiegers. just as the inhabitants of the city were yielding to despair, there arose a tempest, which swept the bosporus with resistless fury. the crowded barges were dashed against each other, shattered, wrecked and sunk. the christians of constantinople justly attributed their salvation to the interposition of god. ascolod and dir, with the wrecks of their army, returned in chagrin to kief. the historians of that period relate that the idolatrous russians were so terrified by this display of the divine displeasure that they immediately sent embassadors to constantinople, professing their readiness to embrace christianity, and asking that they might receive the rite of baptism. in attestation of the fact that christianity at this period entered russia, we are referred to a well authenticated letter, of the patriarch photius, written at the close of the year . "the russians," he says, "so celebrated for their cruelty, conquerors of their neighbors, and who, in their pride, dared to attack the roman empire, have already renounced their superstitions, and have embraced the religion of jesus christ. lately our most formidable enemies, they have now become our most faithful friends. we have recently sent them a bishop and a priest, and they testify the greatest zeal for christianity." it was in this way, it seems, that the religion of our saviour first entered barbaric russia. the gospel, thus welcomed, soon became firmly established at kief, and rapidly extended its conquests in all directions. the two russian kingdoms, that of rurik in the north, and that of ascolod and dir on the dnieper, rapidly extended as these enterprising kings, by arms, subjected adjacent nations to their sway. rurik remained upon the throne fifteen years, and then died, surrendering his crown to his son igor, still a child. a relative, oleg, was intrusted with the regency, during the minority of the boy king. such was the state of russia in the year . in that dark and cruel age, war was apparently the only thought, military conquest the only glory. the regent, oleg, taking with him the young prince igor, immediately set out with a large army on a career of conquest. marching directly south some hundred miles, and taking possession of all the country by the way, he arrived at last at the head waters of the dnieper. the renown of the kingdom of ascolod and dir had reached his ears; and aware of their military skill and that the ranks of their army were filled with norman warriors, oleg decided to seize the two sovereigns by stratagem. as he cautiously approached kief, he left his army in a secluded encampment, and with a few chosen troops floated down the stream in barges, disguised as merchant boats. landing in the night beneath the high and precipitous banks near the town, he placed a number of his soldiers in ambuscade, and then calling upon the princes of kief, informed them that he had been sent by the king of novgorod, with a commercial adventure down the dnieper, and invited them to visit his barges. the two sovereigns, suspecting no guile, hastened to the banks of the river. suddenly the men in ambush rose, and piercing them with arrows and javelins, they both fell dead at the feet of oleg. the two victims of this perfidy were immediately buried upon the spot where they fell. in commemoration of this atrocity, the church of st. nicholas has been erected near the place, and even to the present day the inhabitants of kief conduct the traveler to the tomb of ascolod and dir. oleg, now marshaling his army, marched triumphantly into the town, and, without experiencing any formidable opposition, annexed the conquered realm to the northern kingdom. oleg was charmed with his conquest. the beautiful site of the town, the broad expanse of the river, the facilities which the stream presented for maritime and military adventures so delighted him that he exclaimed, "let kief be the mother of all the russian cities." oleg established his army in cantonments, strengthened it with fresh recruits, commenced predatory excursions on every side, and soon brought the whole region, for many leagues around, under his subjection. all the subjugated nations were compelled to pay him tribute, though, with the sagacity which marked his whole course, he made the tax so light as not to be burdensome. the territories of oleg were now vast, widely scattered, and with but the frailest bond of union between them. between the two capitals of novgorod and kief, which were separated by a distance of seven or eight hundred miles, there were many powerful tribes still claiming independence. oleg directed his energies against them, and his march of conquest was resistless. in the course of two years he established his undisputed sway over the whole region, and thus opened unobstructed communication between his northern and southern provinces. he established a chain of military posts along the line, and placed his renowned warriors in feudal authority over numerous provinces. each lord, in his castle, was supreme in authority over the vassals subject to his sway. life and death were in his hands. the fealty he owed his sovereign was paid in a small tribute, and in military service with an appointed number of soldiers whom he led into the field and supported. having thus secured safety in the north, oleg turned his attention to the south. with a well-disciplined army, he marched down the left bank of the river, sweeping the country for an hundred miles in width, everywhere planting his banners and establishing his simple and effective government of baronial lords. it was easy to weaken any formidable or suspected tribe, by the slaughter of the warriors. there were two safeguards against insurrection. the burdens imposed upon the vassals were so light as to induce no murmurings; and all the feudal lords were united to sustain each other. the first movement towards rebellion was drowned in blood. igor, the legitimate sovereign, had now attained his majority; but, accustomed as he had long been, to entire obedience, he did not dare to claim the crown from a regent flushed with the brilliancy of his achievements, who had all power in his hands, and who, by a nod, could remove him for ever out of his way. igor was one day engaged in the chase, when at the door of a cottage, in a small village near kief, he saw a young peasant girl, of marvelous grace and beauty. she was a norman girl of humble parentage. young igor, inflamed by her beauty, immediately rode to the door and addressed her. her voice was melody, her smile ravishing, and in her replies to his questionings, she developed pride of character, quickness of intelligence and invincible modesty, which charmed him and instantly won his most passionate admiration. the young prince rode home sorely wounded. cupid had shot one of his most fiery arrows into the very center of his heart. though many high-born ladies had been urged upon igor, he renounced them all, and allowing beauty to triumph over birth, honorably demanded and received the hand of the lowly-born yet princely-minded and lovely olga. they were married at kief in the year . the revolution at kief had not interrupted the friendly relations existing between kief and constantinople. the christians of the imperial city made great efforts, by sending missionaries to kief, to multiply the number of christians there. oleg, though a pagan, granted free toleration to christianity, and reciprocated the presents and friendly messages he received from the emperor. but at length oleg, having consolidated his realms, and ambitions of still greater renown, wealth and power, resolved boldly to declare war against the empire itself, and to march upon constantinople. the warriors from a hundred tribes, each under their feudal lord, were ranged around his banners. for miles along the banks of the dnieper at kief, the river was covered with barges, two thousand in number. an immense body of cavalry accompanied the expedition, following along the shore. the navigation of the river, which poured its flood through a channel nearly a thousand miles in length from kief to the euxine, was difficult and perilous. it required the blind, unthinking courage of semi-barbarians to undertake such an enterprise. there were many cataracts, down which the flotilla would be swept over foaming billows and amidst jagged rocks. in many places the stream was quite impassable by boats, and it was necessary to take all the barges, with their contents, on shore, and drag them for miles through the forest, again to launch them upon smoother water; and all this time they were exposed to attacks from numerous and ferocious foes. having arrived at the mouth of the dnieper, they had still six or eight hundred miles of navigation over the waves of that storm-swept sea. and then, at the close, they had to encounter, in deadly fight, all the power of the roman empire. but unintimidated by these perils, oleg, leaving igor with his bride at kief, launched his boats upon the current, and commenced his desperate enterprise. chapter ii. growth and consolidation of russia from to . expedition to constantinople.--treaty with the emperor.--last days of oleg.--his death.--igor assumes the scepter.--his expedition to the don.--descent upon constantinople.--his defeat.--second expedition.--pusillanimity of the greeks.--death of igor.--regency of olga.--her character.--succession of sviatoslaf.--his impiety and ambition.--conquest of bulgaria.--division of the empire.--defeat, ruin and death of sviatoslaf.--civil war.--death of oleg.--flight of vlademer.--supremacy of yaropolk. the fleet of oleg successfully accomplished the navigation of the dnieper, followed by the horse along the shores. each barge carried forty warriors. entering the black sea, they spread their sails and ran along the western coast to the mouth of the bosporus. the enormous armament approaching the imperial city of constantine by sea and by land, completely invested it. the superstitious leon, surnamed the philosopher, sat then upon the throne. he was a feeble man engrossed with the follies of astrology, and without making preparations for any vigorous defense, he contented himself with stretching a chain across the golden horn to prevent the hostile fleet from entering the harbor. the cavalry of oleg, encountering no serious opposition, burnt and plundered all the neighboring regions. the beautiful villas of the wealthy greeks, their churches and villages all alike fell a prey to the flames. every species of cruelty and barbarity was practiced by the ruthless invaders. the effeminate greeks from the walls of the city gazed upon this sweep of desolation, but ventured not to march from behind their ramparts to assail the foe. oleg draw his barges upon the shore and dragged them on wheels towards the city, that he might from them construct instruments and engines for scaling the walls. the greeks were so terrified at this spectacle of energy, that they sent an embassage to oleg, imploring peace, and offering to pay tribute. to conciliate the invader they sent him large presents of food and wine. oleg, apprehensive that the viands were poisoned, refused to accept them. he however demanded enormous tribute of the emperor, to which terms the greeks consented, on condition that oleg would cease hostilities, and return peaceably to his country. upon this basis of a treaty, the russian array retired to some distance from the city, and oleg sent four commissioners to arrange with the emperor the details of peace. the humiliating treaty exacted was as follows: =i.= the greeks engage to give twelve _grivnas_ to each man of the russian army, and the same sum to each of the warriors in the cities governed by the dependent princes of oleg. =ii.= the embassadors, sent by russia to constantinople, shall have all their expenses defrayed by the emperor. and, moreover, the emperor engages to give to every russian merchant in greece, bread, wine, meat, fish and fruits, for the space of six months; to grant him free access to the public baths, and to furnish him, on his return to his country, with food, anchors, sails, and, in a word, with every thing he needs. on the other hand the greeks propose that the russians, who visit constantinople for any other purposes than those of commerce, shall not be entitled to this supply of their tables. the russian prince shall forbid his embassadors from giving any offense to the inhabitants of the grecian cities or provinces. the quarter of saint meme shall be especially appropriated to the russians, who, upon their arrival, shall give information to the city council. their names shall be inscribed, and there shall be paid to them every month the sums necessary for their support, no matter from what part of russia they may have come. a particular gate shall be designated by which they may enter the city, accompanied by an imperial commissary. they shall enter without arms, and never more than fifty at a time; and they shall be permitted, freely, to engage in trade in constantinople without the payment of any tax. this treaty, by which the emperor placed his neck beneath the feet of oleg, was ratified by the most imposing ceremonies of religion. the emperor took the oath upon the evangelists. oleg swore by his sword and the gods of russia. in token of his triumph oleg proudly raised his shield, as a banner, over the battlements of constantinople, and returned, laden with riches, to kief, where he was received with the most extravagant demonstrations of adulation and joy. the treaty thus made with the emperor, and which is preserved in full in the russian annals, shows that the russians were no longer savages, but that they had so far emerged from that gloomy state as to be able to appreciate the sacredness of law, the claims of honor and the authority of treaties. it is observable that no signatures are attached to this treaty but those of the norman princes, which indicates that the original sclavonic race were in subjection as the vassals of the normans. oleg appears to have placed in posts of authority only his own countrymen. oleg now, as old age was advancing, passed many years in quietude. surrounded by an invincible army, and with renown which pervaded the most distant regions, no tribes ventured to disturb his repose. his distance from southern europe protected him from annoyance from the powerful nations which were forming there. his latter years seem to have been devoted to the arts of peace, for he secured to an unusual degree the love, as well as the admiration, of his subjects. ancient annalists record that all russia moaned and wept when he died. he is regarded, as more prominently than any other man, the founder of the russian empire. he united, though by treachery and blood, the northern and southern kingdoms under one monarch. he then, by conquest, extended his empire over vast realms of barbarians, bringing them all under the simple yet effective government of feudal lords. he consolidated this empire, and by sagacious measures, encouraging arts and commerce, he led his barbarous people onward in the paths of civilization. he gave russia a name and renown, so that it assumed a position among the nations of the globe, notwithstanding its remote position amidst the wilds of the north. his usurpation, history can not condemn. in those days any man had the right to govern who had the genius of command. genius was the only legitimacy. but he was an assassin, and can never be washed clean from that crime. he died after a reign of thirty-three years, and was buried, with all the displays of pomp which that dark age could furnish, upon one of the mountains in the vicinity of kief, which mountain for many generations was called the tomb of oleg. igor now assumed the reins of government. he had lived in kief a quiet, almost an effeminate life, with his beautiful bride olga. a very powerful tribe, the drevolians, which had been rather restive, even under the rigorous sway of oleg, thought this a favorable opportunity to regain their independence. they raised the standard of revolt. igor crushed the insurrection with energy which astonished all who knew him, and which spread his fame far and wide through all the wilds of russia, as a monarch thoroughly capable of maintaining his command. far away in unknown realms, beyond the eastern boundary of russia, where the gloomy waves of the irtish, the tobol, the oural and the volga flow through vast deserts, washing the base of fir-clad mountains, and murmuring through wildernesses, the native domain of wolves and bears, there were wandering innumerable tribes, fierce, cruel and barbarous, who held the frontiers of russia in continual terror. they were called by the general name of petchénègues. igor was compelled to be constantly on the alert to defend his vast frontier from the irruptions of these merciless savages. this incessant warfare led to the organization of a very efficient military power, but there was no glory to be acquired in merely driving back to their dens these wild assailants. weary of the conflict, he at last consented to purchase a peace with them; and then, seeking the military renown which oleg had so signally acquired, he resolved to imitate his example and make a descent upon constantinople. the annals of those days, which seem to be credible, state that he floated down the dnieper with ten thousand barges, and spread his sails upon the waves of the euxine. entering the bosporus, he landed on both shores of that beautiful strait, and, with the most wanton barbarity, ravaged the country far and near, massacring the inhabitants, pillaging the towns and committing all the buildings to the flames. there chanced to be at constantinople, a very energetic roman general, who was dispatched against them with a greek fleet and a numerous land force. the greeks in civilization were far in advance of the russians. the land force drove the russians to their boats, and then the grecian fleet bore down upon them. a new instrument of destruction had been invented, the terrible greek fire. attached to arrows and javelins, and in great balls glowing with intensity of flame which water would not quench, it was thrown into the boats of the russians, enkindling conflagration and exciting terror indescribable. it seemed to the superstitious followers of igor, that they were assailed by foes hurling the lightnings of jove. in this fierce conflict igor, having lost a large number of barges, and many of his men, drew off his remaining forces in disorder, and they slowly returned to their country in disgrace, emaciate and starving. many of the russians taken captive by the greeks were put to death with the most horrible barbarities. igor, exasperated rather than intimidated by this terrible disaster, resolved upon another expedition, that he might recover his lost renown by inflicting the most terrible vengeance upon the greeks. he spent two years in making preparations for the enterprise; called to his aid warriors from the most distant tribes of the empire, and purchased the alliance of the petchénègues. with an immense array of barges, which for leagues covered the surface of the dnieper, and with an immense squadron of cavalry following along the banks, he commenced the descent of the river. the emperor was informed that the whole river was filled with barges, descending for the siege and sack of constantinople. in terror he sent embassadors to igor to endeavor to avert the storm. the imperial embassadors met the flotilla near the mouth of the dnieper, and offered, in the name of the emperor, to pay the same tribute to igor which had been paid to oleg, and even to increase that tribute. at the same time they endeavored to disarm the cupidity of the foe by the most magnificent presents. igor halted his troops, and collecting his chieftains in counsel, communicated to them the message of the emperor. they replied, "if the emperor will give us the treasure we demand, without our exposing ourselves to the perils of battle, what more can we ask? who can tell on which side will be the victory?" thus influenced, igor consented to a treaty. the opening words of this curious treaty are worthy of being recorded. they were as follows: "we, the embassadors of igor, solemnly declare that this treaty shall continue so long as the sun shall shine, in defiance of the machinations of that evil spirit who is the enemy of peace and the fomenter of discord. the russians promise never to break this alliance with the horde; those who have been baptized, under penalty of temporal and eternal punishment from god; others, under the penalty of being for ever deprived of the protection of péroune;[ ] of never being able to protect themselves with their shields; of being doomed to lacerate themselves with their own swords, arrows and other arms, and of being slaves in this world and that which is to come." [footnote : one of the gods of the russians.] this important treaty consisted of fourteen articles, drawn up with great precision, and in fact making the greek emperor as it were but a vassal of the russian monarch. one of the articles of the treaty is quite illustrative of the times. it reads, "if a christian kills a russian, or if a russian kills a christian, the friends of the dead have a right to seize the murderer and kill him." this treaty was concluded at constantinople, between the emperor and the embassadors of igor. imperial embassadors were sent with the written treaty to kief. igor, with imposing ceremonies, ascended the sacred hill where was erected the russian idol of péroune, and with his chieftains took a solemn oath of friendship to the emperor, and then as a gage of their sincerity deposited at the feet of the idol their arms and shields of gold. the christian nobles repaired to the cathedral of st. elias, the most ancient church of kief, and there took the same oath at the altar of the christian's god. the renowned russian historian, nestor, who was a monk in the monastery at kief, records that at that time there were numerous christians in kief. igor sent the imperial embassadors back to constantinople laden with rich presents. elated by wealth and success, the russian king began to impose heavier burdens of taxation upon subjugated nations. the drevliens resisted. with an insufficient force igor entered their territories. the drevliens, with the fury of desperation, fell upon him and he was slain, and his soldiers put to rout. during his reign he held together the vast empire oleg had placed in his hands, though he had not been able to extend the boundaries of his country. it is worthy of notice, and of the highest praise, that igor, though a pagan, imitating the example of oleg, permitted perfect toleration throughout his realms. the gospel of christ was freely preached, and the christians enjoyed entire freedom of faith and worship. his reign continued thirty-two years. sviatoslaf, the son of igor, at the time of his father's unhappy death was in his minority. the empire was then in great peril. the drevliens, one of the most numerous and warlike tribes, were in open and successful revolt. the army accustomed to activity, and now in idleness, was very restive. the old norman generals, ambitious and haughty, were disposed to pay but little respect to the claims of a prince who was yet in his boyhood. but providence had provided for this exigence. olga, the mother of sviatoslaf, assumed the regency, and developed traits of character which place her in the ranks of the most extraordinary and noble of women. calling to her aid two of the most influential of the nobles, one of whom was the tutor of her son and the other commander-in-chief of the army, she took the helm of state, and developed powers of wisdom and energy which have rarely been equaled and perhaps never surpassed. she immediately sent an army into the country of the drevliens, and punished with terrible severity the murderers of her husband. the powerful tribe was soon brought again into subjection to the russian crown. as a sort of defiant parade of her power, and to overawe the turbulent drevliens, she traversed their whole country, with her son, accompanied by a very imposing retinue of her best warriors. having thus brought them to subjection, she instituted over them a just and benevolent system of government, that they might have no occasion again to rise in revolt. they soon became so warmly attached to her that they ever were foremost in support of her power. one year had not passed ere olga was seated as firmly upon the throne as oleg or igor had ever been. she then, leaving her son sviatoslaf at kief, set out on a tour through her northern provinces. everywhere, by her wise measures and her deep interest in the welfare of her subjects, she won admiration and love. the annals of those times are full of her praises. the impression produced by this visit was not effaced from the popular mind for five hundred years, being handed down from father to son. the sledge in which she traveled was for many generations preserved as a sacred relic. she returned to kief, and there resided with her son, for many years, in peace and happiness. the whole empire was tranquil, and in the lowly cabins of the russians there was plenty, and no sounds of war or violence disturbed the quiet of their lives. this seems to have been one of the most serene and pleasant periods of russian history. this noble woman was born a pagan. but the gospel of christ was preached in the churches of kief, and she heard it and was deeply impressed with its sublimity and beauty. her life was drawing to a close. the grandeur of empire she was soon to lay aside for the darkness and the silence of the tomb. these thoughts oppressed her mind, which was, by nature, elevated, sensitive and refined. she sent for the christian pastors and conversed with them about the immortality of the soul, and salvation through faith in the atonement of our lord and saviour jesus christ. the good seed of christian truth fell into good soil. cordially she embraced the gospel. that her renunciation of paganism, and her confession of the saviour might be more impressive, she decided to go to constantinople to be baptized by the venerable christian patriarch, who resided there. the christian emperor, constantine porphyrogenete, informed of her approach, prepared to receive her with all the pomp worthy of so illustrious a princess of so powerful a people. he has himself left a record of these most interesting ceremonies. olga approached the imperial palace, with a very splendid suite composed of nobles of her court, of ladies of distinction, and of the russian embassadors and merchants residing at constantinople. the emperor, with a corresponding suite of splendor, met the russian queen at a short distance from the palace, and conducted her, with her retinue, to the apartments arranged for their entertainment. it was the th of september, . in the great banqueting hall of the palace there was a magnificent feast prepared. the guests were regaled with richest music. after such an entertainment as even the opulence of the east had seldom furnished, there was an exchange of presents. the emperor and the queen strove to outvie each other in the richness and elegance of their gifts. every individual in the two retinues, received presents of great value. the queen at her baptism received the christian name of helen. we do not find any record of the ceremonies performed at her baptism. it is simply stated that the emperor himself stood as her sponsor. olga, as she returned to kief, with her baptismal vows upon her, and in the freshness of her christian hopes, manifested great solicitude for her son, who still continued a pagan. but sviatoslaf was a wild, pleasure-seeking young man, who turned a deaf ear to all his mother's counsels. the unbridled license which paganism granted, was much more congenial to his unrenewed heart than the salutary restraints of the gospel of christ. the human heart was then and there, as now and here. the russian historian karamsin says, "in vain this pious mother spoke to her son of the happiness of being a christian; of the peaceful spirit he would find in the worship of the true god. 'how can i,' replied sviatoslaf, 'make a profession of this new religion, which will expose me to the ridicule of all my companions in arms?' in vain olga urged upon him that his example might induce others to embrace the gospel of christ. the young prince was inflexible. he made no effort to prevent others from becoming christians, but did not disguise his contempt for the christian faith, and so persistently rejected all the exhortations of his mother, whom he still tenderly loved, that she was at last forced to silence, and could only pray, in sadness, that god would open the eyes and touch the heart of her child." the young prince having attained his majority in the year , assumed the crown. his soul was fired with the ambition of signalizing himself by great military exploits. the blood of igor, of oleg and of rurik coursed through his veins, and he resolved to lead the russian arms to victories which should eclipse all their exploits. he gathered an immense army, and looked eagerly around to find some arena worthy of the display of his genius. his character was an extraordinary one, combining all the virtues of ancient chivalry; virtues which guided by christian faith, constitute the noblest men, but which without piety constitute a man the scourge of his race. _fame_ was the god of sviatoslaf. to acquire the reputation of a great warrior, he was willing to whelm provinces in blood. but he was too magnanimous to take any mean advantage of their weakness. he would give them fair warning, that no blow should be struck, assassin-like, stealthily and in the dark. he accustomed his body, spartan-like, to all the fatigues and exposures of war. he indulged in no luxury of tents or carriages, and ate the flesh of horses and wild beasts, which he roasted himself, over the coals. in his campaigns the ground was his bed, the sky his curtain, his horse blanket his covering, and the saddle his pillow; and he seemed equally regardless of both heat and cold. his soldiers looked to him as their model and emulated his hardihood. turning his attention first to the vast and almost unknown realms spreading out towards the east, he sent word to the tribes on the don and the volga, that he was coming to fight them. as soon as they had time to prepare for their defense he followed his word. here was chivalric crime and chivalric magnanimity. marching nine hundred miles directly east from kief, over the russian plains, he came to the banks of the don. the region was inhabited by a very powerful nation called the khozars. they were arrayed under their sovereign, on the banks of the river to meet the foe. the khozars had even sent for greek engineers to aid them in throwing up their fortifications; and they were in an intrenched camp constructed with much military skill. a bloody battle ensued, in which thousands were slain. but sviatoslaf was victor, and the territory was annexed to russia, and russian nobles were placed in feudal possession of its provinces. the conqueror then followed down the don to the sea of azof, fighting sanguinary battles all the way, but everywhere victorious. the terror of his arms inspired wide-spread consternation, and many tribes, throwing aside their weapons, bowed the neck to the russian king, and implored his clemency. sviatoslaf returned to kief with waving banners, exulting in his renown. he was stimulated, not satiated, by this success; and now planned another expedition still more perilous and grand. on the south of the danube, near its mouth, was bulgaria, a vast realm, populous and powerful, which had long bid defiance to all the forces of the roman empire. the conquest of bulgaria was an achievement worthy of the chivalry even of sviatoslaf. with an immense fleet of barges, containing sixty thousand men, he descended the dnieper to the euxine. coasting along the western shore his fleet entered the mouth of the danube. the bulgarians fought like heroes to repel the invaders. all their efforts were in vain. the russians sprang from their barges on the shore, and, protected by their immense bucklers, sword in hand, routed the bulgarians with great slaughter. cities and villages rapidly submitted to the conqueror. the king of bulgaria in his despair rushed upon death. sviatoslaf, laden with the spoils of the vanquished and crowned with the laurels of victory, surrendered himself to rejoicing and to all the pleasures of voluptuous indulgence. from these dissipations sviatoslaf was suddenly recalled by the tidings that his own capital was in danger; that a neighboring tribe, of great military power, taking advantage of his absence with his army, had invested kief and were hourly expected to take it by assault. in dismay he hastened his return, and found, to his inexpressible relief, that the besiegers had been routed by the stratagem and valor of a russian general, and that the city and its inhabitants were thus rescued from destruction. but the russian king, having tasted the pleasures of a more sunny clime, and having rioted in the excitements of sensual indulgence, soon became weary of tranquil life in kief. he was also anxious to escape from the reproof which he always felt from the pious life of his mother. he therefore resolved to return to his conquered kingdom of bulgaria. he said to his mother: "i had rather live in bulgaria than at kief. bulgaria is the center of wealth, nature and art. the greeks send there gold and cloths; the hungarians silver and horses; the russians furs, wax, honey and slaves." "wait, my son, at least till after my death," exclaimed olga. "i am aged and infirm, and very soon shall be conveyed to my tomb." this interview hastened the death of olga. in four days she slept in jesus. she earnestly entreated her son not to admit of any pagan rites at her funeral. she pointed out the place of her burial, and was interred with christian prayers, accompanied by the lamentations and tears of all the people. sviatoslaf, in his foreign wars, which his mother greatly disapproved, had left with her the administration of internal affairs. nestor speaks of this pious princess in beautiful phrase as _the morning star of salvation for russia_. sviatoslaf, having committed his mother to the tomb, made immediate preparations to transfer his capital from kief to the more genial clime of bulgaria. had he been influenced by statesmanlike considerations it would have been an admirable move. the climate was far preferable to that of kief, the soil more fertile, and the openings for commerce, through the danube and the euxine, immeasurably superior. but sviatoslaf thought mainly of pleasure. it was now the year . sviatoslaf had three sons, whom he established, though all in their minority, in administration of affairs in the realms from which he was departing. yaropolk received the government of kief. his second son, oleg, was placed over the powerful nation of drevliens. a third son, vlademer, the child of dishonor, not born in wedlock, was intrusted with the command at novgorod. having thus arranged these affairs, sviatoslaf, with a well-appointed army, eagerly set out for his conquered province of bulgaria. but in the meantime the bulgarians had organized a strong force to resist the invader. the russians conquered in a bloody battle, and, by storm, retook pérégeslavetz, the beautiful capital of bulgaria, where sviatoslaf established his throne. the greeks at constantinople were alarmed by this near approach of the ever-encroaching and warlike russians, and trembled lest they should next fall a prey to the rapacity of sviatoslaf. the emperor, jean zimisces, immediately entered into an alliance with the bulgarians, offering his daughter in marriage to boris, son of their former king. a bloody war ensued. the greeks and bulgarians were victors, and sviatoslaf, almost gnashing his teeth with rage, was driven back again to the cold regions of the north. the greek historians give the following description of the personal appearance of sviatoslaf. he was of medium height and well formed. his physiognomy was severe and stern. his breast was broad, his neck thick, his eyes blue, with heavy eyebrows. he had a broad nose, heavy moustaches, but a slight beard. the large mass of hair which covered his head indicated his nobility. from one of his ears there was suspended a ring of gold, decorated with two pearls and a ruby. as sviatoslaf, with his shattered army, ascended the dnieper in their boats, the petchénègues, fierce tribes of barbarians, whom sviatoslaf had subdued, rose in revolt against him. they gathered, in immense numbers, at one of the cataracts of the dnieper, where it would be necessary for the russians to transport their boats for some distance by land. they hoped to cut off his retreat and thus secure the entire destruction of their formidable foe. the situation of sviatoslaf was now desperate. nothing remained for him but death. with the abandonment of despair he rushed into the thickest of the foe, and soon fell a mangled corpse. how much more happy would have been his life, how much more happy his death, had he followed the counsels of his pious mother. kouria, chief of the petchénègues, cut off the head of sviatoslaf, and ever after used his skull for a drinking cup. the annalist strikofski, states that he had engraved upon the skull the words, "in seeking the destruction of others you met with your own." a few fugitives from the army of sviatoslaf succeeded in reaching kief, where they communicated the tidings of the death of the king. the empire now found itself divided into three portions, each with its sovereign. yaropolk was supreme at kief. oleg reigned in the spacious country of the drevliens. vladimir was established at novgorod. no one of these princes was disposed to yield the supremacy to either of the others. they were soon in arms. yaropolk marched against his brother oleg. the two armies met about one hundred and fifty miles north-west of kief, near the present town of obroutch. oleg and his force were utterly routed. as the whole army, in confusion and dismay, were in pell-mell flight, hotly pursued, the horse of oleg fell. nothing could resist, even, for an instant, the onswelling flood. he was trampled into the mire, beneath the iron hoofs of squadrons of horse and the tramp of thousands of mailed men. after the battle, his body was found, so mutilated that it was with difficulty recognized. as it was spread upon a mat before the eyes of yaropolk, he wept bitterly, and caused the remains to be interred with funeral honors. the monument raised to his memory has long since perished; but even to the present day the inhabitants of obroutch point out the spot where oleg fell. vladimir, prince of novgorod, terrified by the fate of his brother oleg, and apprehensive that a similar doom awaited him, sought safety in flight. forsaking his realm he retired to the baltic, and took refuge with the powerful normans from whom his ancestors had come. yaropolk immediately dispatched lieutenants to take possession of the government, and thus all russia, as a united kingdom, was again brought under the sway of a single sovereign. chapter iii. reigns of vlademer, yaroslaf, ysiaslaf and vsevolod from to . flight of vlademer.--his stolen bride.--the march upon kief.--debauchery of valdemar.--zealous paganism.--introduction of christianity.--baptism in the dnieper.--entire change in the character of valdemar.--his great reforms.--his death.--usurpation of sviatopolk the miserable.--accession of yaroslaf.--his administration and death.--accession of ysiaslaf.--his strange reverses.--his death.--vsevolod ascends the throne.--his two flights to poland.--appeals to the pope.--wars, famine and pestilence.--character of vsevolod. though vlademer had fled from russia, it was by no means with the intention of making a peaceful surrender of his realms to his ambitious brother. for two years he was incessantly employed, upon the shores of the baltic, the home of his ancestors, in gathering adventurers around his flag, to march upon novgorod, and chase from thence the lieutenants of yaropolk. he at length, at the head of a strong army, triumphantly entered the city. half way between novgorod and kief, was the city and province of polotsk. the governor was a norman named rovgolod. his beautiful daughter rogneda was affianced to yaropolk, and they were soon to be married. vlademer sent embassadors to rovgolod soliciting an alliance, and asking for the hand of his daughter. the proud princess, faithful to yaropolk, returned the stinging reply, that _she would never marry the son of a slave_. we have before mentioned that the mother of vlademer was not the wife of his father. she was one of the maids of honor of olga. this insult roused the indignation of vlademer to the highest pitch. burning with rage he marched suddenly upon polotsk, took the city by storm, killed rovgolod and his two sons and compelled rogneda, his captive, to marry him, paying but little attention to the marriage ceremony. having thus satiated his vengeance, he marched upon kief, with a numerous army, composed of chosen warriors from various tribes. yaropolk, alarmed at the strength with which his brother was approaching, did not dare to give him battle, but accumulated all his force behind the ramparts of kief. the city soon fell into the hands of vlademer, and yaropolk, basely betrayed by one of his generals, was assassinated by two officers of vlademer, acting under his authority. vlademer was now in possession of the sovereign power, and he displayed as much energy in the administration of affairs as he had shown in the acquisition of the crown. he immediately imposed a heavy tax upon the russians, to raise money to pay his troops. having consolidated his power he became a very zealous supporter of the old pagan worship, rearing several new idols upon the sacred hill, and placing in his palace a silver statue of péroune. his soul seems to have been harrowed by the consciousness of crime, and he sought, by the cruel rites of a debasing superstition, to appease the wrath of the gods. still remorse did not prevent him from plunging into the most revolting excesses of debauchery. the chronicles of those times state that he had three hundred concubines in one of his palaces, three hundred in another at kief, and two hundred at one of his country seats. it is by no means certain that these are exaggerations, for every beautiful maiden in the empire was sought out, to be transferred to his harems. paganism had no word of remonstrance to utter against such excesses. but vlademer, devoted as he was to sensual indulgence, was equally fond of war. his armies were ever on the move, and the cry of battle was never intermitted. on the south-east he extended his conquests to the carpathian mountains, where they skirt the plains of hungary. in the north-west he extended his sway, by all the energies of fire and blood, even to the shores of the baltic, and to the gulf of finland. elated beyond measure by his victories, he attributed his success to the favor of his idol gods, and resolved to express his homage by offerings of human blood. he collected a number of handsome boys and beautiful girls, and drew lots to see which of them should be offered in sacrifice. the lot fell upon a fine boy from one of the christian families. the frantic father interposed to save his child. but the agents of vlademer fell fiercely upon them, and they both were slain and offered in sacrifice. their names, ivan and theodore, are still preserved in the russian church as the first christian martyrs of kief. a few more years of violence and crime passed away, when vlademer became the subject of that marvelous change which, nine hundred years before, had converted the persecuting saul into the devoted apostle. the circumstances of his conversion are very peculiar, and are very minutely related by nestor. other recitals seem to give authenticity to the narrative. for some time vlademer had evidently been in much anxiety respecting the doom which awaited him beyond the grave. he sent for the teachers of the different systems of religion, to explain to him the peculiarities of their faith. first came the mohammedans from bulgaria; then the jews from jerusalem; then the christians from the papal church at rome, and then christians from the greek church at constantinople. the mohammedans and the jews he rejected promptly, but was undecided respecting the claims of rome and constantinople. he then selected ten of the wisest men in his kingdom and sent them to visit rome and constantinople and report in which country divine worship was conducted in the manner most worthy of the supreme being. the embassadors returning to kief, reported warmly in favor of the greek church. still the mind of vlademer was oppressed with doubts. he assembled a number of the most virtuous nobles and asked their advice. the question was settled by the remark of one who said, "had not the religion of the greek church been the best, the sainted olga would not have accepted it." this wonderful event is well authenticated; nestor gives a recital of it in its minute details; and an old greek manuscript, preserved in the royal library at paris, records the visit of these ambassadors to rome and constantinople. vlademer's conversion, however, seems, at this time, to have been intellectual rather than spiritual, a change in his policy of administration rather than a change of heart. though this external change was a boundless blessing to russia, there is but little evidence that vlademer then comprehended that moral renovation which the gospel of christ effects as its crowning glory. he saw the absurdity of paganism; he felt tortured by remorse; perhaps he felt in some degree the influence of the gospel which was even then faithfully preached in a few churches in idolatrous kief; and he wished to elevate russia above the degradation of brutal idolatry. he deemed it necessary that his renunciation of idolatry and adoption of christianity should be accompanied with pomp which should produce a wide-spread impression upon russia. he accordingly collected an immense army, descended the dnieper in boats, sailed across the black sea, and entering the gulf of cherson, near sevastopol, after several bloody battles took military possession of the crimea. thus victorious, he sent an embassage to the emperors basil and constantine at constantinople, that he wished the young christian princess anne for his bride, and that if they did not promptly grant his request, he would march his army to attack the city. the emperors, trembling before the approach of such a power, replied that they would not withhold from him the hand of the princess if he would first embrace christianity. vlademer of course assented to this, which was the great object he had in view; but demanded that the princess, who was a sister of the emperors, should first be sent to him. the unhappy maiden was overwhelmed with anguish at the reception of these tidings. she regarded the pagan russians as ferocious savages; and to be compelled to marry their chief was to her a doom more dreadful than death. but policy, which is the religion of cabinets, demanded the sacrifice. the princess, weeping in despair, was conducted, accompanied by the most distinguished ecclesiastics and nobles of the empire, to the camp of vlademer, where she was received with the most gorgeous demonstrations of rejoicing. the whole army expressed their gratification by all the utterances of triumph. the ceremony of baptism was immediately performed in the church of st. basil, in the city of cherson, and then, at the same hour, the marriage rites with the princess were solemnized. vlademer ordered a large church to be built at cherson in memory of his visit. he then returned to kief, taking with him some preachers of distinction; a communion service wrought in the most graceful proportions of grecian art, and several exquisite specimens of statuary and sculpture, to inspire his subjects with a love for the beautiful. he accepted the christian teachers as his guides, and devoted himself with extraordinary zeal to the work of persuading all his subjects to renounce their idol-worship and accept christianity. every measure was adopted to throw contempt upon paganism. the idols were collected and burned in huge bonfires. the sacred statue of péroune, the most illustrious of the pagan gods, was dragged ignominiously through the streets, pelted with mud and scourged with whips, until at last, battered and defaced, it was dragged to the top of a precipice and tumbled headlong into the river, amidst the derision and hootings of the multitude. our zealous new convert now issued a decree to all the people of russia, rich and poor, lords and slaves, to repair to the river in the vicinity of kief to be baptized. at an appointed day the people assembled by thousands on the banks of the dnieper. vlademer at length appeared, accompanied by a great number of greek priests. the signal being given, the whole multitude, men, women and children, waded slowly into the stream. some boldly advanced out up to their necks in the water; others, more timid, ventured only waist deep. fathers and mothers led their children by the hand. the priests, standing upon the shore, read the baptismal prayers, and chaunted the praises of god, and then conferred the name of christians upon these barbarians. the multitude then came up from the water. vlademer was in a transport of joy. his strange soul was not insensible to the sublimity of the hour and of the scene. raising his eyes to heaven he uttered the following prayer: "creator of heaven and earth, extend thy blessing to these thy new children. may they know thee as the true god, and be strengthened by thee in the true religion. come to my help against the temptations of the evil spirit, and i will praise thy name." thus, in the year , paganism was, by a blow, demolished in russia, and nominal christianity introduced throughout the whole realm. a christian church was erected upon the spot where the statue of péroune had stood. architects were brought from constantinople to build churches of stone in the highest artistic style. missionaries were sent throughout the whole kingdom, to instruct the people in the doctrines of christianity, and to administer the rite of baptism. nearly all the people readily received the new faith. some, however, attached to the ancient idolatry, refused to abandon it. vlademer, nobly recognizing the rights of conscience, resorted to no measures of violence. the idolaters were left undisturbed save by the teachings of the missionaries. thus for several generations idolatry held a lingering life in the remote sections of the empire. schools were established for the instruction of the young, learned teachers from greece secured, and books of christian biography translated into the russian tongue. vlademer had then ten sons. three others were afterwards born to him. he divided his kingdom into ten provinces or states, over each of which he placed one of these sons as governor. on the frontiers of the empire he caused cities, strongly fortified, to be erected as safeguards against the invasion of remote barbarians. for several years russia enjoyed peace with but trivial interruptions. the character of vlademer every year wonderfully improved. under his christian teachers he acquired more and more of the christian spirit, and that spirit was infused into all his public acts. he became the father of his people, and especially the friend and helper of the poor. the king was deeply impressed with the words of our saviour, "blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy," and with the declaration of solomon, "he who giveth to the poor lendeth to the lord." in the excess of his zeal of benevolence he was disposed to forgive all criminals. thus crime was greatly multiplied, and the very existence of the state became endangered. the clergy, in a body, remonstrated with him, assuring him that god had placed him upon the throne expressly that he might punish the wicked and thus protect the good. he felt the force of this reasoning, and instituted, though with much reluctance, a more rigorous government. war had been his passion. in this respect also his whole nature seemed to be changed, and nothing but the most dire necessity could lead him to an appeal to arms. the princess anne appears to have been a sincere christian, and to have exerted the most salutary influence upon the mind of her husband. in the midst of these great measures of reform, sudden sickness seized vlademer in his palace, and he died, in the year , so unexpectedly that he appointed no successor. his death caused universal lamentations, and thousands crowded to the church of notre dame, to take a last look of their beloved sovereign, whose body reposed there for a time in state, in a marble coffin. the remains were then deposited by the side of his last wife, the christian princess anne, who had died a few years before. the russian historian, karamsin, says: "this prince, whom the church has recognized as equal to the apostles, merits from history the title of great. it is god alone who can know whether vlademer was a true christian at heart, or if he were influenced simply by political considerations. it is sufficient for us to state that, after having embraced that divine religion, vlademer appears to have been sanctified by it, and he developed a totally different character from that which he exhibited when involved in the darkness of paganism." one of the sons of vlademer, whose name was sviatopolk, chanced to be at kief at the time of his father's death. he resolved to usurp the throne and to cause the assassination of all the brothers from whom he could fear any opposition. three of his brothers speedily fell victims to his bloody perfidy. yaroslaf, who had been entrusted with the feudal government of novgorod, being informed of the death of his father, of the usurpation of sviatopolk and of the assassination of three of his brothers, raised an army of forty thousand men and marched upon kief. sviatopolk, informed of his approach, hastened, with all his troops to meet him. the two armies encountered each other upon the banks of the dnieper about one hundred and fifty miles above kief. the river separated them, and neither dared to attempt to cross in the presence of the other. several weeks passed, the two camps thus facing each other, without any collision. at length yaroslaf, with the novgorodians, crossed the stream stealthily and silently in a dark night, and fell fiercely upon the sleeping camp of sviatopolk. his troops, thus taken by surprise, fought for a short time desperately. they were however soon cut to pieces or dispersed, and sviatopolk, himself, saved his life only by precipitate flight. yaroslaf, thus signally victorious, continued his march, without further opposition, to kief, and entered the capital in triumph. sviatopolk fled to poland, secured the coöperation of the polish king, whose daughter he had married, returned with a numerous army, defeated his brother in a sanguinary battle, drove him back to novgorod, and again, with flying banners, took possession of kief. the path of history now leads us through the deepest sloughs of perfidy and crime. two of the sisters of yaroslaf were found in kief. one of them had previously refused the hand of the king of poland. the barbarian in revenge seized her as his concubine. sviatopolk, jealous of the authority which his father-in-law claimed, and which he could enforce by means of the polish army, administered poison in the food of the troops. a terrible and unknown disease broke out in the camp, and thousands perished. the wretch even attempted to poison his father-in-law, but the crime was suspected, and the polish king, boleslas, fled to his own realms. sviatopolk was thus again left so helpless as to invite attack. yaroslaf with eagerness availed himself of the opportunity. raising a new army, he marched upon kief, retook the city and drove his brother again into exile. the energetic yet miserable man fled to the banks of the volga, where he formed a large army of the ferocious petchénègues, exciting their cupidity with promises of boundless pillage. with these wolfish legions, he commenced his march back again upon his own country. the terrible encounter took place on the banks of the alta. russian historians describe the conflict as one of the most fierce in which men have ever engaged. the two armies precipitated themselves upon each other with the utmost fury, breast to breast, swords, javelins and clubs clashing against brazen shields. the novgorodians had taken a solemn oath that they would conquer or die. three times the combatants from sheer exhaustion ceased the strife. three times the deadly combat was renewed with redoubled ardor. the sky was illumined with the first rays of the morning when the battle commenced. the evening twilight was already darkening the field before the victory was decided. the hordes of the wretched sviatopolk were then driven in rabble rout from the field, leaving the ground covered with the slain. the defeat was so awful that sviatopolk was plunged into utter despair. half dead with terror, tortured by remorse, and pursued by the frown of heaven, he fled into the deserts of bohemia, where he miserably perished, an object of universal execration. in the annals of russia the surname of _miserable_ is ever affixed to this infamous prince. yaroslaf, thus crowned by victory, received the undisputed title of sovereign of russia. it was now the year . for several years yaroslaf reigned in prosperity. there were occasional risings of barbaric tribes, which, by force of arms, he speedily quelled. much time and treasure were devoted to the embellishment of the capital; churches were erected; the city was surrounded by brick walls; institutions of learning were encouraged, and, most important of all, the bible was translated into the russian language. it is recorded that the king devoutly read the scriptures himself, both morning and evening, and took great interest in copying the sacred books with his own hands. the closing years of life this illustrious prince passed in repose and in the exercises of piety, while he still continued, with unintermitted zeal, to watch over the welfare of the state. nearly all the pastors of the churches were greeks from constantinople, and yaroslaf, apprehensive that the greeks might acquire too much influence in the empire, made great efforts to raise up russian ecclesiastics, and to place them in the most important posts. at length the last hours of the monarch arrived, and it was evident that death was near. he assembled his children around his bed, four sons and five daughters, and thus affectingly addressed them: "i am about to leave the world. i trust that you, my dear children, will not only remember that you are brothers and sisters, but that you will cherish for each other the most tender affection. ever bear in mind that discord among you will be attended with the most funereal results, and that it will be destructive of the prosperity of the state. by peace and tranquillity alone can its power be consolidated. "ysiaslaf will be my successor to ascend the throne of kief. obey him as you have obeyed your father. i give tchernigof to sviatoslaf; pereaslavle to vsevolod; and smolensk to viatcheslaf. i hope that each of you will be satisfied with his inheritance. your oldest brother, in his quality of sovereign prince, will be your natural judge. he will protect the oppressed and punish the guilty." on the th of february, , yaroslaf died, in the seventy-first year of his age. his subjects followed his remains in tears to the tomb, in the church of st. sophia, where his marble monument, carved by grecian artists, is still shown. influenced by a superstition common in those days, he caused the bones of oleg and yaropolk, the two murdered brothers of vlademer, who had perished in the errors of paganism, to be disinterred, baptized, and then consigned to christian burial in the church of kief. he established the first public school in russia, where three hundred young men, sons of the priests and nobles, received instruction in all those branches which would prepare them for civil or ecclesiastical life. ambitious of making kief the rival of constantinople, he expended large sums in its decoration. grecian artists were munificently patronized, and paintings and mosaics of exquisite workmanship added attraction to churches reared in the highest style of existing art. he even sent to greece for singers, that the church choirs might be instructed in the richest utterances of music. he drew up a code of laws, called russian justice, which, for that dark age, is a marvelous monument of sagacity, comprehensive views and equity. the death of yaroslaf proved an irreparable calamity; for his successor was incapable of leading on in the march of civilization, and the realm was soon distracted by civil war. it is a gloomy period, of three hundred years, upon which we now must enter, while violence, crime, and consequently misery, desolated the land. it is worthy of record that nestor attributes the woes which ensued, to the general forgetfulness of god, and the impiety which commenced the reign immediately after the death of yaroslaf. "god is just," writes the historian. "he punishes the russians for their sins. we dare to call ourselves christians, and yet we live like idolaters. although multitudes throng every place of entertainment, although the sound of trumpets and harps resounds in our houses, and mountebanks exhibit their tricks and dances, the temples of god are empty, surrendered to solitude and silence." bands of barbarians invaded russia from the distant regions of the caspian sea, plundering, killing and burning. they came suddenly, like the thunder-cloud in a summer's day, and as suddenly disappeared where no pursuit could find them. ambitious nobles, descendants of former kings, plied all the arts of perfidy and of assassination to get possession of different provinces of the empire, each hoping to make his province central and to extend his sway over all the rest of russia. the brothers of ysiaslaf became embroiled, and drew the sword against each other. an insurrection was excited in kief, the populace besieged the palace, and the king saved his life only by a precipitate abandonment of his capital. the military mob pillaged the palace and proclaimed their chieftain, vseslaf, king. ysiaslaf fled to poland. the polish king, boleslas ii., who was a grandson of vlademer, and who had married a russian princess, received the fugitive king with the utmost kindness. with a strong polish army, accompanied by the king of poland, ysiaslaf returned to kief, to recover his capital by the sword. the insurgent chief who had usurped the throne, in cowardly terror fled. ysiaslaf entered the city with the stern strides of a conqueror and wreaked horrible vengeance upon the inhabitants, making but little discrimination between the innocent and the guilty. seventy were put to death. a large number had their eyes plucked out; and for a long time the city resounded with the cries of the victims, suffering under all kinds of punishments from the hands of this implacable monarch. thus the citizens were speedily brought into abject submission. the polish king, with his army, remained a long time at kief, luxuriating in every indulgence at the expense of the inhabitants. he then returned to his own country laden with riches. ysiaslaf re-ascended the throne, having been absent ten months. disturbances of a similar character agitated the provinces which were under the government of the brothers of ysiaslaf, and which had assumed the authority and dignity of independent kingdoms. thus all russia was but an arena of war, a volcanic crater of flame and blood. three years of conflict and woe passed away, when two of the brothers of ysiaslaf united their armies and marched against him; and again he was compelled to seek a refuge in poland. he carried with him immense treasure, hoping thus again to engage the services of the polish army. but boleslas infamously robbed him of his treasure, and then, to use an expression of nestor, "_showed him the way out of his kingdom_." the woe-stricken exile fled to germany, and entreated the interposition of the emperor, henry iv., promising to reward him with immense treasure, and to hold the crown of russia as tributary to the german empire. the emperor was excited by the alluring offer, and sent embassadors to sviatoslaf, now enthroned at kief, ostensibly to propose reconciliation, but in reality to ascertain what the probability was of success in a warlike expedition to so remote a kingdom. the embassadors returned with a very discouraging report. the banished prince thus disappointed, turned his steps to rome, and implored the aid of gregory vii., that renowned pontiff, who was ambitious of universal sovereignty, and who had assumed the title of king of kings. ysiaslaf, in his humiliation, was ready to renounce his fidelity to the greek church, and also the dignity of an independent prince. he promised, in consideration of the support of the pope, to recognize not only the spiritual power of rome, but also the temporal authority of the pontiff. he also entered bitter complaints against the king of poland. ysiaslaf did not visit rome in person, but sent his son to confer with the pope. gregory, rejoiced to acquire spiritual dominion over russia, received the application in the most friendly manner, and sent embassadors to the fugitive prince with the following letter: "gregory, bishop, servant of the servants of god, to ysiaslaf, prince of the russians, safety, health and the apostolic benediction. "your son, after having visited the sacred places at rome, has humbly implored that he might be reëstablished in his possessions by the authority of saint peter, and has given his solemn vow to be faithful to the chief of the apostles. we have consented to grant his request, which we understand is in accordance with your wishes; and we, in the name of the chief of the apostles, confer upon him the government of the russian kingdom. "we pray that saint peter may preserve your health, that he will protect your reign and your estates, even to the end of your life, and that you may then enjoy a day of eternal glory. "wishing also to give a proof of our desire to be useful to you hereafter, we have charged our embassadors, one of whom is your faithful friend, to treat with you verbally upon all those subjects alluded to in your communication to us. receive them with kindness as the embassadors of saint peter, and receive without restriction all the propositions they may make in our name. "may god, the all-powerful, illumine your heart with divine light and with temporal blessings, and conduct you to eternal glory. given at rome the th of may, in the year ." thus adroitly the pope assumed the sovereignty of russia, and the right, and the power, by the mere utterance of a word, to confer it upon whom he would. the all-grasping pontiff thus annexed russia to the domains of saint peter. another short letter gregory wrote to the king of poland. it was as follows: "in appropriating to yourself illegally the treasures of the russian prince, you have violated the christian virtues. i conjure you, in the name of god, to restore to him all the property of which you and your subjects have deprived him; for robbers can never enter the kingdom of heaven unless they first restore the plunder they have taken." fortunately for the fugitive prince, his usurping brother sviatoslaf just at this time died, in consequence of a severe surgical operation. the polish king appears to have refunded the treasure of which he had robbed the exiled monarch, and ysiaslaf, hiring an army of polish mercenaries, returned a second time in triumph to his capital. it does not appear that he subsequently paid any regard to the interposition of the pope. we have now but a long succession of conspiracies, insurrections and battles. in one of these civil conflicts, ysiaslaf, at the head of a formidable force, met another powerful army, but a few leagues from kief. in the hottest hour of the battle a reckless cavalier, in the hostile ranks, perceiving ysiaslaf in the midst of his infantry, precipitated himself on him, pierced him with his lance and threw him dead upon the ground. his body was conveyed in a canoe to kief, and buried with much funeral pomp in the church of notre dame, by the side of the beautiful monument which had been erected to the memory of vlademer. ysiaslaf expunged from the russian code of laws the death penalty, and substituted, in its stead, heavy fines. the russian historians, however, record that it is impossible to decide whether this measure was the dictate of humanity, or if he wished in this way to replenish his treasury. vsevolod succeeded to the throne of his brother ysiaslaf in the year . the children of ysiaslaf had provinces assigned them in appanage. vsevolod was a lover of peace, and yet devastation and carnage were spread everywhere before his eyes. every province in the empire was torn by civil strife. hundreds of nobles and princes were inflamed with the ambition for supremacy, and with the sword alone could the path be cut to renown. the wages offered the soldiers, on all sides, was pillage. cities were everywhere sacked and burned, and the realm was crimsoned with blood. civil war is necessarily followed by the woes of famine, which woes are ever followed by the pestilence. the plague swept the kingdom with terrific violence, and whole provinces were depopulated. in the city of kief alone, seven thousand perished in the course of ten weeks. universal terror, and superstitious fear spread through the nation. an earthquake indicated that the world itself was trembling in alarm; an enormous serpent was reported to have been seen falling from heaven; invisible and malignant spirits were riding by day and by night through the streets of the cities, wounding the citizens with blows which, though unseen, were heavy and murderous, and by which blows many were slain. all hearts sank in gloom and fear. barbarian hordes ravaged both banks of the dnieper, committing towns and villages to the flames, and killing such of the inhabitants as they did not wish to carry away as captives. vsevolod, an amiable man of but very little force of character, was crushed by the calamities which were overwhelming his country. not an hour of tranquillity could he enjoy. it was the ambition of his nephews, ambitious, energetic, unprincipled princes, struggling for the supremacy, which was mainly the cause of all these disasters. chapter iv. years of war and woe. from to . character of vsevolod.--succession of sviatopolk.--his discomfiture.--deplorable condition of russia.--death of sviatopolk.--his character.--accession of monomaque.--curious festival at kief.--energy of monomaque.--alarm of the emperor at constantinople.--horrors of war.--death of monomaque.--his remarkable character.--pious letter to his children.--accession of mstislaf.--his short but stormy reign.--struggles for the throne.--final victory of ysiaslaf.--moscow in the province of souzdal.--death of ysiaslaf.--wonderful career of rostislaf.--rising power of moscow.--georgievitch, prince of moscow. vsevolod has the reputation of having been a man of piety. but he was quite destitute of that force of character which one required to hold the helm in such stormy times. he was a man of great humanity and of unblemished morals. the woes which desolated his realms, and which he was utterly unable to avert, crushed his spirit and hastened his death. perceiving that his dying hour was at hand, he sent for his two sons, vlademer and rostislaf, and the sorrowing old man breathed his last in their arms. vsevolod was the favorite son of yaroslaf the great, and his father, with his dying breath, had expressed the wish that vsevolod, when death should come to him, might be placed in the tomb by his side. these affectionate wishes of the dying father were gratified, and the remains of vsevolod were deposited, with the most imposing ceremonies of those days, in the church of saint sophia, by the side of those of his father. the people, forgetting his weakness and remembering only his amiability, wept at his burial. vlademer, the eldest son of vsevolod, with great magnanimity surrendered the crown to his cousin sviatopolk, saying, "his father was older than mine, and reigned at kief before my father. i wish to avoid dissension and the horrors of civil war." he then proclaimed sviatopolk sovereign of russia. the new sovereign had been feudal lord of the province of novgorod; he, however, soon left his northern capital to take up his residence in the more imperial palaces of kief. but disaster seemed to be the doom of russia, and the sounds of rejoicing which attended his accession to the throne had hardly died away ere a new scene of woe burst upon the devoted land. the young king was rash and headstrong. he provoked the ire of one of the strong neighboring provinces, which was under the sway of an energetic feudal prince, ostensibly a vassal of the crown, but who, in his pride and power, arrogated independence. the banners of a hostile army were soon approaching kief. sviatopolk marched heroically to meet them. a battle was fought, in which he and his army were awfully defeated. thousands were driven by the conquerors into a stream, swollen by the rains, where they miserably perished. the fugitives, led by sviatopolk, in dismay fled back to kief and took refuge behind the walls of the city. the enemy pressed on, ravaging, with the most cruel desolation, the whole region around kief, and in a second battle conquered the king and drove him out of his realms. the whole of southern russia was abandoned to barbaric destruction. nestor gives a graphic sketch of the misery which prevailed: "one saw everywhere," he writes, "villages in flames; churches, houses, granaries were reduced to heaps of ashes; and the unfortunate citizens were either expiring beneath the blows of their enemies, or were awaiting death with terror. prisoners, half naked, were dragged in chains to the most distant and savage regions. as they toiled along, they said, weeping, one to another, '_i am from such a village, and i from such a village_. no horses or cattle were to be seen upon our plains. the fields were abandoned to weeds, and ferocious beasts ranged the places but recently occupied by christians." the whole reign of sviatopolk, which continued until the year , was one continued storm of war. it would only weary the reader to endeavor to disentangle the labyrinth of confusion, and to describe the ebbings and floodings of battle. every man's hand was against his neighbor; and friends to-day were foes to-morrow. sviatopolk himself was one of the most imperfect of men. he was perfidious, ungrateful and suspicious; haughty in prosperity, mean and cringing in adversity. his religion was the inspiration of superstition and cowardice, not of intelligence and love. whenever he embarked upon any important expedition, he took an ecclesiastic to the tomb of saint theodosius, there to implore the blessing of heaven. if successful in the enterprise, he returned to the tomb to give thanks. this was the beginning and the end of his piety. without any scruple he violated the most sacred laws of morality. the marriage vow was entirely disregarded, and he was ever ready to commit any crime which would afford gratification to his passions, or which would advance his interests. the death of sviatopolk occurred in a season of general anarchy, and it was uncertain who would seize the throne. the citizens of kief met in solemn and anxious assembly, and offered the crown to an illustrious noble, monomaque, a brother of sviatopolk, and a man who had acquired renown in many enterprises of most desperate daring. in truth it required energy and courage of no ordinary character for a man at that time to accept the crown. innumerable assailants would immediately fall upon him, putting to the most imminent peril not only the crown, but the head which wore it. by the russian custom of descent, the crown incontestably belonged to the oldest son of sviatoslaf, and monomaque, out of regard to his rights, declined the proffered gift. this refusal was accompanied by the most melancholy results. a terrible tumult broke out in the city. there was no arm of law sufficiently powerful to restrain the mob, and anarchy, with all its desolation, reigned for a time triumphant. a deputation of the most influential citizens of kief was immediately sent to monomaque, with the most earnest entreaty that he would hasten to rescue them and their city from the impending ruin. the heroic prince could not turn a deaf ear to this appeal. he hastened to the city, where his presence, combined with the knowledge which all had of his energy and courage, at once appeased the tumult. he ascended the throne, greeted by the acclamations of the whole city. no opposition ventured to manifest itself, and monomaque was soon in the undisputed possession of power. nothing can give one a more vivid idea of the state of the times than the festivals appointed in honor of the new reign as described by the ancient annalists. the bones of two saints were transferred from one church to another in the city. a magnificent coffin of silver, embellished with gold, precious stones, and _bas reliefs_, so exquisitely carved as to excite the admiration even of the grecian artists, contained the sacred relics, and excited the wonder and veneration of the whole multitude. the imposing ceremony drew to kief the princes, the clergy, the lords, the warriors, even, from the most distant parts of the empire. the gates of the city and the streets were encumbered with such multitudes that, in order to open a passage for the clergy with the sarcophagus, the monarch caused cloths, garments, precious furs and pieces of silver to be scattered to draw away the throng. a luxurious feast was given to the princes, and, for three days, all the poor of the city were entertained at the expense of the public treasure. monomaque now fitted out sundry expeditions under his enterprising son to extend the territories of russia and to bring tumultuous tribes and nations into subjection and order. his son mstislaf was sent into the country of the tchoudes, now livonia, on the shores of the baltic. he overran the territory, seized the capital and established order. his son vsevolod, who was stationed at novgorod, made an expedition into finland. his army experienced inconceivable sufferings in that cold, inhospitable clime. still they overawed the inhabitants and secured tranquillity. another son, georges, marched to the volga, embarked his army in a fleet of barges, and floated along the stream to eastern bulgaria, conquered an army raised to oppose him, and returned to his principality laden with booty. another son, yaropolk, assailed the tumultuous tribes upon the don. brilliant success accompanied his enterprise. among his captives he found one maiden of such rare beauty that he made her his wife. at the same time the kingdom of russia was invaded by barbarous hordes from the shores of the caspian. monomaque himself headed an army and assailed the invaders with such impetuosity that they were driven, with much loss, back again to their wilds. the military renown monomaque thus attained made his name a terror even to the most distant tribes, and, for a time, held in awe those turbulent spirits who had been filling the world with violence. elated by his conquests, monomaque fitted out an expedition to greece. a large army descended the dnieper, took possession of thrace, and threatened adrianople. the emperor, in great alarm, sent embassadors to monomaque with the most precious presents. there was a cornelian exquisitely cut and set, a golden chain and necklace, a crown of gold, and, most precious of all, a crucifix made of wood of the true cross! the metropolitan bishop of ephesus, who was sent with these presents, was authorized, in the name of the church and of the empire, to place the crown upon the brow of monomaque in gorgeous coronation in the cathedral church of kief, and to proclaim monomaque emperor of russia. this crown, called the _golden bonnet of monomaque_, is still preserved in the museum of antiquities at moscow. these were dark and awful days. horrible as war now is, it was then attended with woes now unknown. gleb, prince of minsk, with a ferocious band, attacked the city of sloutsk; after a terrible scene of carnage, in which most of those capable of bearing arms were slain, the city was burned to ashes, and all the survivors, men, women and children, were driven off as captives to the banks of the dwina, where they were incorporated with the tribe of their savage conqueror. in revenge, monomaque sent his son yaropolk to droutsk, one of the cities of gleb. no pen can depict the horrors of the assault. after a few hours of dismay, shriekings and blood, the city was in ashes, and the wretched victims of man's pride and revenge were conducted to the vicinity of kief, where they reared their huts, and in widowhood, orphanage and penury, commenced life anew. gleb himself in this foray was taken prisoner, conducted to kief, and detained there a captive until he died. monomaque reigned thirteen years, during which time he was incessantly engaged in wars with the audacious nobles of the provinces who refused to recognize his supremacy, and many of whom were equal to him in power. he died may , , in the seventy-third year of his age, renowned, say the ancient annalists, for the splendor of his victories and the purity of his morals. he was fully conscious of the approach of death, and seems to have been sustained, in that trying hour, by the consolations of religion. he lived in an age of darkness and of tumult; but he was a man of prayer, and, according to the light he had, he walked humbly with god. commending his soul to the saviour he fell asleep. it is recorded that he was a man of such lively emotions that his voice often trembled, and his eyes were filled with tears as he implored god's blessing upon his distracted country. he wrote, just before his death, a long letter to his children, conceived in the most lovely spirit of piety. we have space but for a few extracts from these christian counsels of a dying father. the whole letter, written on parchment, is still preserved in the archives of the monarchy. "the foundation of all virtue," he wrote, "is the fear of god and the love of man. o my dear children, praise god and love your fellow-men. it is not fasting, it is not solitude, it is not a monastic life which will secure for you the divine approval--it is doing good to your fellow-creatures alone. never forget the poor. take care of them, and ever remember that your wealth comes from god, and that it is only intrusted to you for a short time. do not hoard up your riches; that is contrary to the precepts of the saviour. be a father to the orphans, the protectors of widows, and never permit the powerful to oppress the weak. never take the name of god in vain, and never violate your oath. do not envy the triumph of the wicked, or the success of the impious; but abstain from everything that is wrong. banish from your hearts all the suggestions of pride, and remember that we are all perishable--to-day full of life, to-morrow in the tomb. regard with horror, falsehood, intemperance and impurity--vices equally dangerous to the body and to the soul. treat aged men with the same respect with which you would treat your parents, and love all men as your brothers. "when you make a journey in your provinces, do not suffer the members of your suite to inflict the least injury upon the inhabitants. treat with particular respect strangers, of whatever quality, and if you can not confer upon them favors, treat them with a spirit of benevolence, since, upon the manner with which they are treated, depends the evil or good report which they will take back with them to their own land. salute every one whom you meet. love your wives, but do not permit them to govern you. when you have learned any thing useful, endeavor to imprint it upon your memory, and be always seeking to acquire information. my father spoke five languages, a fact which excited the admiration of strangers. "guard against idleness, which is the mother of all vices. man ought always to be occupied. when you are traveling on horseback, instead of allowing your mind to wander upon vain thoughts, recite your prayers, or, at least, repeat the shortest and best of them all: '_oh, lord, have mercy upon us.'_ never retire at night without falling upon your knees before god in prayer, and never let the sun find you in your bed. always go to church at an early hour in the morning to offer to god the homage of your first and freshest thoughts. this was the custom of my father and of all the pious people who surrounded him. with the first rays of the sun they praised the lord, and exclaimed, with fervor, 'condescend, o lord, with thy divine light to illumine my soul.'" the faults of monomaque were those of his age, _non vitia hominis, sed vitia soeculi_; but his virtues were truly christian, and it can hardly be doubted that, as his earthly crown dropped from his brow, he received a brighter crown in heaven. the devastations of the barbarians in that day were so awful, burning cities and churches, and massacring women and children, that they were regarded as enemies of the human race, and were pursued with exterminating vengeance. monomaque left several children and a third wife. one of his wives, gyda, was a daughter of harold, king of england. his oldest son, mstislaf, succeeded to the crown. his brothers received, as their inheritance, the government of extensive provinces. the new monarch, inheriting the energies and the virtues of his illustrious sire, had long been renowned. the barbarians, east of the volga, as soon as they heard of the death of monomaque, thought that russia would fall an easy prey to their arms. in immense numbers they crossed the river, spreading far and wide the most awful devastation. but mstislaf fell upon them with such impetuosity that they were routed with great slaughter and driven back to their wilds. their chastisement was so severe that, for a long time, they were intimidated from any further incursions. with wonderful energy, mstislaf attacked many of the tributary nations, who had claimed a sort of independence, and who were ever rising in insurrection. he speedily brought them into subjection to his sway, and placed over them rulers devoted to his interests. in the dead of winter an expedition was marched against the tchoudes, who inhabited the southern shores of the bay of finland. the men were put to death, the cities and villages burned; the women and children were brought away as captives and incorporated with the russian people. mstislaf reigned but about four years, when he suddenly died in the sixtieth year of his age. his whole reign was an incessant warfare with insurgent chiefs and barbarian invaders. there is an awful record, at this time, of the scourge of famine added to the miseries of war. all the northern provinces suffered terribly from this frown of god. immense quantities of snow covered the ground even to the month of may. the snow then melted suddenly with heavy rains, deluging the fields with water, which slowly retired, converting the country into a wide-spread marsh. it was very late before any seed could be sown. the grain had but just begun to sprout when myriads of locusts appeared, devouring every green thing. a heavy frost early in the autumn destroyed the few fields the locusts had spared, and then commenced the horrors of a universal famine. men, women and children, wasted and haggard, wandered over the fields seeking green leaves and roots, and dropped dead in their wanderings. the fields and the public places were covered with putrefying corpses which the living had not strength to bury. a fetid miasma, ascending from this cause, added pestilence to famine, and woes ensued too awful to be described. immediately after the death of mstislaf, the inhabitants of kief assembled and invited his brother vladimirovitch to assume the crown. this prince then resided at novgorod, which city he at once left for the capital. he proved to be a feeble prince, and the lords of the remote principalities, assuming independence, bade defiance to his authority. there was no longer any central power, and russia, instead of being a united kingdom, became a conglomeration of antagonistic states; every feudal lord marshaling his serfs in warfare against his neighbor. in the midst of this state of universal anarchy, caused by the weakness of a virtuous prince who had not sufficient energy to reign, vladimirovitch died in . the death of the king was a signal for a general outbreak--a multitude of princes rushing to seize the crown. viatcheslaf, prince of a large province called pereiaslavle, was the first to reach kief with his army. the inhabitants of the city, to avoid the horrors of war, marched in procession to meet him, and conducted him in triumph to the throne. viatcheslaf had hardly grasped the scepter and stationed his army within the walls, when from the steeples of the city the banners of another advancing host were seen gleaming in the distance, and soon the tramp of their horsemen, and the defiant tones of the trumpet were heard, as another and far more mighty host encircled the city. this new army was led by vsevolod, prince of a province called vouychegorod. viatcheslaf, convinced of the impossibility of resisting such a power as vsevolod had brought against kief, immediately consented to retire, and to surrender the throne to his more powerful rival. vsevolod entered the city in triumph and established himself firmly in power. there is nothing of interest to be recorded during his reign of seven years, save that russia was swept by incessant billows of flame and blood. the princes of the provinces were ever rising against his authority. combinations were formed to dethrone the king, and the king formed combinations to crush his enemies. the hungarians, the swedes, the danes, the poles, all made war against this energetic prince; but with an iron hand he smote them down. toil and care soon exhausted his frame, and he was prostrate on his dying bed. bequeathing his throne to his brother igor, he died, leaving behind him the reputation of having been one of the most energetic of the kings of this blood deluged land. igor was fully conscious of the perils he thus inherited. he was very unpopular with the inhabitants of kief, and loud murmurs greeted his accession to power. a conspiracy was formed among the most influential inhabitants of kief, and a secret embassage was sent to the grand prince, ysiaslaf, a descendant of monomaque, inviting him to come, and with their aid, take possession of the throne. the prince attended the summons with alacrity, and marched with a powerful army to kief. igor was vanquished in a sanguinary battle, taken captive, imprisoned in a convent, and ysiaslaf became the nominal monarch of russia. sviatoslaf, the brother of igor, overwhelmed with anguish in view of his brother's fall and captivity, traversed the expanse of russia to enlist the sympathies of the distant princes, to march for the rescue of the captive. he was quite successful. an allied army was soon raised, and, under determined leaders, was on the march for kief. the king, ysiaslaf, with his troops, advanced to meet them. in the meantime igor, crushed by misfortune, and hopeless of deliverance, sought solace for his woes in religion. "for a long time," said he, "i have desired to consecrate my heart to god. even in the height of prosperity this was my strongest wish. what can be more proper for me now that i am at the very gates of the tomb?" for eight days he laid in his cell, expecting every moment to breathe his last. he then, reviving a little, received the tonsure from the hands of the bishop, and renouncing the world, and all its cares and ambitions, devoted himself to the prayers and devotions of the monk. the king pressed sviatoslaf with superior forces, conquered him in several battles, and drove him, a fugitive, into dense forests, and into distant wilds. sviatoslaf, like his brother, weary of the storms of life, also sought the solace which religion affords to the weary and the heart-stricken. pursued by his relentless foe, he came to a little village called moscow, far back in the interior. this is the first intimation history gives of this now renowned capital of the most extensive monarchy upon the globe. a prince named georges reigned here, over the extensive province then called souzdal, who received the fugitive with heartfelt sympathy. aided by georges and several of the surrounding princes, another army was raised, and sviatoslaf commenced a triumphal march, sweeping all opposition before him, until he arrived a conqueror before the walls of novgorod. the people of kief, enraged by this success of the foe of their popular king, rose in a general tumult, burst into a convent where igor was found at his devotions, tied a rope about his neck, and dragged him, a mutilated corpse, through the streets. the king, ysiaslaf, called for a _levy en masse_, of the inhabitants of kief, summoned distant feudal barons with their armies to his banner, and marched impetuously to meet the conquering foe. fierce battles ensued, in which sviatoslaf was repeatedly vanquished, and retreated to souzdal again to appeal to georges for aid. ysiaslaf summoned the novgorodians before him, and in the following energetic terms addressed them: "my brethren," said he, "georges, the prince of souzdal, has insulted novgorod. i have left the capital of russia to defend you. do you wish to prosecute the war? the sword is in my hands. do you desire peace? i will open negotiations." "war, war," the multitude shouted. "you are our monarch, and we will all follow you, from the youngest to the oldest." a vast army was immediately assembled on the shores of the lake of ilmen, near the city of novgorod, which commenced its march of three hundred miles, to the remote realms of souzdal. georges was unprepared to meet them. he fled, surrendering his country to be ravaged by the foe. his cities and villages were burned, and seven thousand of his subjects were carried captive to kief. but georges was not a man to bear such a calamity meekly. he speedily succeeded in forming an alliance with the barbarian nations around him, and burning with rage, followed the army of the retiring foe. he overtook them near the city of periaslavle. it was the evening of the d of august. the unclouded sun was just sinking at the close of a sultry day, and the vesper chants were floating through the temples of the city. the storm of war burst as suddenly as the thunder peals of an autumnal tempest. the result was most awful and fatal to the king. his troops were dispersed and cut to pieces. ysiaslaf himself with difficulty escaped and reached the ramparts of kief. the terrified inhabitants entreated him not to remain, as his presence would only expose the city to the horror of being taken by storm. "our fathers, our brothers, our sons," they said, "are dead upon the field of battle, or are in chains. we have no arms. generous prince, do not expose the capital of russia to pillage. flee for a time to your remote principalities, there to gather a new army. you know that we will never rest contented under the government of georges. we will rise in revolt against him, as soon as we shall see your standards approaching." ysiaslaf fled, first to smolensk, some three hundred miles distant, and thence traversed his principalities seeking aid. georges entered kief in triumph. calling his warriors around him, he assigned to them the provinces which he had wrested from the feudal lords of the king. hungary, bohemia and poland then consisted of barbaric peoples just emerging into national existence. the king of hungary had married euphrosine, the youngest sister of ysiaslaf. he immediately sent to his brother-in-law ten thousand cavaliers. the kings of bohemia and of poland also entered into an alliance with the exiled prince, and in person led the armies which they contributed to his aid. a war of desperation ensued. it was as a conflict between the tiger and the lion. the annals of those dark days contained but a weary recital of deeds of violence, blood and woe, which for ten years desolated the land. all russia was roused. every feudal lord was leading his vassals to the field. there were combinations and counter-combinations innumerable. cities were taken and retaken; to-day, the banners of ysiaslaf float upon the battlements of kief; to-morrow, those banners are hewn down and the standards of georges are unfurled to the breeze. now, we see ysiaslaf a fugitive, hopeless, in despair. again, the rolling wheel of fortune raises him from his depression, and, with the strides of a conqueror, he pursues his foe, in his turn vanquished and woe-stricken. but "the pomp of heraldry, the pride of power, and all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave, alike await the inevitable hour; the paths of glory lead but to the grave." death, which ysiaslaf had braved in a hundred battles, approached him by the slow but resistless march of disease. for a few days the monarch tossed in fevered restlessness on his bed at kief, and then, from his life of incessant storms on earth, his spirit ascended to the god who gave it. georges was, at that time, in the lowest state of humiliation. his armies had all perished, and he was wandering in exile, seeking new forces with which to renew the strife. rostislaf, grand prince of novgorod, succeeded to the throne. but georges, animated by the death of ysiaslaf, soon found enthusiastic adventurers rallying around his banners. he marched vigorously to kief, drove rostislaf from the capital and seized the scepter. but there was no lull in the tempest of human ambition. georges had attained the throne by the energies of his sword, and, acting upon the principle that "to the victors belong the spoils," he had driven from their castles all the lords who had been supporters of the past administration. he had conferred their mansions and their territories upon his followers. human nature has not materially changed. those in office were fighting to retain their honors and emoluments. those out of office were struggling to attain the posts which brought wealth and renown. the progress of civilization has, in our country, transferred this fierce battle from the field to the ballot-box. it is, indeed, a glorious change. the battle can be fought thus just as effectually, and infinitely more humanely. it has required the misery of nearly six thousand years to teach, even a few millions of mankind, that the ballot-box is a better instrument for political conflicts than the cartridge-box. armies were gathering in all directions to march upon georges. he was now an old man, weary of war, and endeavored to bribe his foes to peace. he was, however, unsuccessful, and found it to be necessary again to lead his armies into the field. it was the th of march, , when georges, entering kief in triumph, ascended the throne. on the st of may he dined with some of his lords. immediately after dinner he was taken sick, and, after languishing a fortnight in ever-increasing debility, on the th he died. the inhabitants of kief, regarding him as an usurper, rejoiced at his death, and immediately sent an embassage to davidovitch, prince of tchernigof, a province about one hundred and fifty miles north of kief, inviting him to hasten to the capital and seize the scepter of russia. kief, and all occidental russia, thus ravaged by interminable wars, desolated by famine and by flame, was rapidly on the decline, and was fast lapsing into barbarism. davidovitch had hardly ascended the throne ere he was driven from it by rostislaf, whom georges had dethroned. but the remote province of souzdal, of which moscow was the capital, situated some seven hundred miles north-east of kief, was now emerging from barbaric darkness into wealth and civilization. the missionaries of christ had penetrated those remote realms. churches were reared, the gospel was preached, peace reigned, industry was encouraged, and, under their influence, moscow was attaining that supremacy which subsequently made it the heart of the russian empire. the inhabitants of kief received rostislaf with demonstrations of joy, as they received every prince whom the fortunes of war imposed upon them, hoping that each one would secure for their unhappy city the blessings of tranquillity. davidovitch fled to moldavia. there was then in moldavia, between the rivers pruth and sereth, a piratic city called berlad. it was the resort of vagabonds of all nations and creeds, who pillaged the shores of the black sea and plundered the boats ascending and descending the danube and the dnieper. these brigands, enriched by plunder and strengthened by accessions of desperadoes from every nation and every tribe, had bidden defiance both to the grand princes of russia and the powers of the empire. eagerly these robber hordes engaged as auxiliaries of davidovitch. in a tumultuous band they commenced their march to kief. they were, however, repulsed by the energetic rostislaf, and davidovitch, with difficulty escaping from the sanguinary field, fled to moscow and implored the aid of its independent prince, georgievitch. the prince listened with interest to his representations, and, following the example of the more illustrious nations of modern times, thought it a good opportunity to enlarge his territories. the city of novgorod, capital of the extensive and powerful province of the same name, was some seven hundred miles north of kief. it was not more than half that distance west of moscow. the inhabitants were weary of anarchy and blood, and anxious to throw themselves into the arms of any prince who could secure for them tranquillity. the fruit was ripe and was ready to drop into the hands of georgievitch. he sent word to the novgorodians that he had decided to take their country under his protection--that he had no wish for war, but that if they manifested any resistance, he should subdue them by force of arms. the novgorodians received the message with delight, rose in insurrection, and seized their prince, who was the oldest son of rostislaf, imprisoned him, his wife and children, in a convent, and with tumultuous joy received as their prince the nephew of georgievitch. rostislaf was so powerless that he made no attempt to avenge this insult. davidovitch made one more desperate effort to obtain the throne. but he fell upon the field of battle, his head being cleft with a saber stroke. chapter v. mstislaf and andrÉ from to . centralization of power at kief.--death of rostislaf.--his religious character.--mstislaf ysiaslavitch ascends the throne.--proclamation of the king.--its effect.--plans of andré.--scenes at kief.--return and death of mstislaf.--war in novgorod.--peace concluded throughout russia.--insult of andré and its consequences.--greatness of soul displayed by andré.--assassination of andré.--renewal of anarchy.--emigration from novgorod.--reign of michel.--vsevolod iii.--evangelization of bulgaria.--death of vsevolod iii.--his queen maria. the prince of souzdal watched the progress of events in occidental russia with great interest. he saw clearly that war was impoverishing and ruining the country, and this led him to adopt the most wise and vigorous measures to secure peace within his own flourishing territories. he adopted the system of centralized power, keeping the reins of government firmly in his own hands, and appointing governors over remote provinces, who were merely the executors of his will, and who were responsible to him for all their acts. at kief the system of independent apanages prevailed. the lord placed at the head of a principality was an unlimited despot, accountable to no one but god for his administration. his fealty to the king consisted merely in an understanding that he was to follow the banner of the sovereign in case of war. but in fact, these feudal lords were more frequently found claiming entire independence, and struggling against their nominal sovereign to wrest from his hands the scepter. rostislaf was now far advanced in years. conscious that death could not be far distant, he took a journey, though in very feeble health, to some of the adjacent provinces, hoping to induce them to receive his son as his successor. on this journey he died at smolensk, the th of march, . religious thoughts had in his latter years greatly engrossed his attention. he breathed his last, praying with a trembling voice, and fixing his eyes devoutly on an image of the saviour which he held devoutly in his hand. he exhibited many christian virtues, and for many years manifested much solicitude that he might be prepared to meet god in judgment. the earnest remonstrances, alone, of his spiritual advisers, dissuaded him from abdicating the throne, and adopting the austerities of a monastic life. he was not a man of commanding character, but it is pleasant to believe that he was, though groping in much darkness, a sincere disciple of the saviour, and that he passed from earth to join the spirits of the just made perfect in heaven. mstislaf ysiaslavitch, a nephew of the deceased king, ascended the throne. he had however uncles, nephews and brothers, who were quite disposed to dispute with him the possession of power, and soon civil war was raging all over the kingdom with renewed virulence. several years of destruction and misery thus passed away, during which thousands of the helpless people perished in their blood, to decide questions of not the slightest moment to them. the doom of the peasants was alike poverty and toil, whether one lord or another lord occupied the castle which overshadowed their huts. the dnieper was then the only channel through which commerce could be conducted between russia and the greek empire. barbaric nations inhabited the shores of this stream, and they had long been held in check by the russian armies. but now the kingdom had become so enfeebled by war and anarchy, all the energies of the russian princes being exhausted in civil strife, that the barbarians plundered with impunity the boats ascending and descending the stream, and eventually rendered the navigation so perilous, that commercial communication with the empire was at an end. the russian princes thus debarred from the necessaries and luxuries which they had been accustomed to receive from the more highly civilized and polished greeks, were impelled to measures of union for mutual protection. the king, in this emergence, issued a proclamation which met with a general response. "russia, our beloved country," exclaimed mstislaf, "groans beneath the stripes which the barbarians are laying upon her, and which we are unable to avenge. they have taken solemn oaths of friendship, they have received our presents, and now, regardless of the faith of treaties, they capture our christian subjects and drag them as slaves into their desert wilds. there is no longer any safety for our merchant boats navigating the dnieper. the barbarians have taken possession of that only route through which we can pass into greece. it is time for us to resort to new measures of energy. my friends and my brothers, let us terminate our unnatural war; let us look to god for help, and, drawing, the sword of vengeance, let us fall in united strength upon our savage foes. it is glorious to ascend to heaven from the field of honor, thus to follow in the footsteps of our father." this spirited appeal was effective. the princes rallied each at the head of a numerous band of vassals, and thus a large army was soon congregated. the desire to punish the insulting barbarians inspired universal enthusiasm. the masses of the people were aroused to avenge their friends who had been carried into captivity. the priests, with prayers and anthems, blessed the banners of the faithful, and, on the d of march, , the army, elate with hope and nerved with vengeance, commenced their descent of the river. the barbarians, terrified by the storm which they had raised, and from whose fury they could attain no shelter, fled so precipitately that they left their wives and their children behind them. the russians, abandoning the incumbrance of their baggage, pursued them in the hottest haste. over the hills, and through the valleys, and across the streams pursuers and pursued rushed on, until, at last, the fugitives were overtaken upon the banks of a deep and rapid stream, which they were unable to cross. mercilessly they were massacred, many russian prisoners were rescued, and booty to an immense amount was taken, for these river pirates were rich, having for years been plundering the commerce of greece and russia. according to the custom of those days the booty was divided between the princes and the soldiers--each man receiving according to his rank. as the army returned in triumph to the dniester, to their boundless satisfaction they saw the pennants of a merchant fleet ascending the river from constantinople, laden with the riches of the empire. the army crowded the shores and greeted the barges with all the demonstrations of exultation and joy. the punishment of the barbarians being thus effectually accomplished, the princes immediately commenced anew their strife. all their old feuds were revived. every lord wished to increase his own power and to diminish that of his natural rival. andré, of souzdal, to whom we have before referred, whose capital was the little village of moscow far away in the interior, deemed the moment favorable for dethroning mstislaf and extending the area of such freedom as his subjects enjoyed over the realms of novgorod and kief. he succeeded in uniting eleven princes with him in his enterprise. his measures were adopted with great secresy. assembling his armies, curtained by leagues of forests, he, unobserved, commenced his march toward the dnieper. the banners of the numerous army were already visible from the steeples of kief before the sovereign was apprised of his danger. for two days the storms of war beat against the walls and roared around the battlements of the city, when the besiegers, bursting over the walls, swept the streets in horrid carnage. this mother of the russian cities had often been besieged and often capitulated, but never before had it been taken by storm, and never before, and never since, have the horrors of war been more sternly exhibited. for three days and three nights the city and its inhabitants were surrendered to the brutal soldiery. the imagination shrinks from contemplating the awful scene. the world of woe may be challenged to exhibit any thing worse. fearful, indeed, must be the corruption when man can be capable of such inhumanity to his fellow man. war unchains the tiger and shows his nature. mstislaf, the sovereign, in the midst of the confusion, the uproar and the blood, succeeded almost as by miracle in escaping from the wretched city, basely, however, abandoning his wife and his children to the enemy. thus fell kief. for some centuries it had been the capital of russia. it was such no more. the victorious andré, of moscow, was now, by the energies of his sword, sovereign of the empire. kief became but a provincial and a tributary city, which the sovereign placed under the governorship of his brother gleb. nearly all the provinces of known russia were now more or less tributary to andré. three princes only preserved their independence. as the army of andré retired, gleb was left in possession of the throne of kief. in those days there were always many petty princes, ready to embark with their followers in any enterprise which promised either glory or booty. mstislaf, the fugitive sovereign, soon gathered around him semi-savage bands, entered the province of kief, plundering and burning the homes of his former subjects. as he approached kief, gleb, unprepared for efficient resistance, was compelled to seek safety in flight. the inhabitants of the city, to escape the horrors of another siege and sack, threw open their gates, and crowded out to meet their former monarch as a returning friend. mstislaf entered the city in triumph and quietly reseated himself upon the throne. he however ascended it but to die. a sudden disease seized him, and the songs of triumph which greeted his entrance, died away in requiems and wailings, as he was borne to the silent tomb. with dying breath he surrendered his throne to his younger brother yaroslaf. andré, at moscow, had other formidable engagements on hand, which prevented his interposition in the affairs of kief. the novgorodians had bidden defiance to his authority, and their subjugation was essential, before any troops could be spared to chastise the heir of mstislaf. the novgorodian army had even penetrated the realms of andré, and were exacting tribute from his provinces. the grand prince, andré himself, was far advanced in years, opposed to war, and had probably been pushed on in his enterprises by the ambition of his son, who was also named mstislaf. this young prince was impetuous and fiery, greedy for military glory, and restless in his graspings for power. the novgorodians were also warlike and indomitable. the conflict between two such powers arrested the attention of all russia. mstislaf made the most extensive preparations for the attack upon the novgorodians, and they, in their turn, were equally energetic in preparations for the defense. the army marched from moscow, and following the valley of the masta, entered the spacious province of novgorod. they entered the region, not like wolves, not like men, but like demons. the torch was applied to every hut, to every village, to every town. they amused themselves with tossing men, women and children upon their camp-fires, glowing like furnaces. the sword and the spear were too merciful instruments of death. the flames of the burning towns blazed along the horizon night after night, and the cry of the victims roused the novgorodians to the intensest thirst for vengeance. with the sweep of utter desolation, mstislaf approached the city, and when his army stood before the walls, there was behind him a path, leagues in width, and two hundred miles in length, covered with ruins, ashes and the bodies of the dead. it was the th of february, . the city was immediately summoned to surrender. the novgorodians appalled by the fate of kief, and by the horrors which had accompanied the march of mstislaf, took a solemn oath that they would struggle to the last drop of blood in defense of their liberties. the clergy in procession, bearing the image of the virgin in their arms, traversed the fortifications of the city, and with prayers, hymns and the most imposing christian rites, inspired the soldiers with religious enthusiasm. the novgorodians threw themselves upon their knees, and in simultaneous prayer cried out, with the blending of ten thousand voices, "o god! come and help us, come and help us." thus roused to frenzy, with the clergy chanting hymns of battle and pleading with heaven for success, with the image of the virgin contemplating their deeds, the soldiers rushed from behind their ramparts upon the foe. death was no longer dreaded. the only thought of every man was to sell his life as dearly as possible. such an onset of maniacal energy no mortal force could stand. the soldiers of mstislaf fell as the waving grain bows before the tornado. their defeat was utter and awful. mercy was not thought of. sword and javelin cried only for blood, blood. the wretched mstislaf in dismay fled, leaving two thirds of his army in gory death; and, in his flight, he met that chastisement which his cruelties merited. he had to traverse a path two hundred miles in length, along which not one field of grain had been left undestroyed; where every dwelling was in ashes, and no animal life whatever had escaped his ravages. starvation was his doom. every rod of the way his emaciated soldiers dropped dead in their steps. famine also with all its woes reigned in novgorod. under these circumstances, the two parties consented to peace, the novgorodians retaining their independence, but accepting a brother of the grand prince andré to succeed their own prince, who was then at the point of death. andré, having thus terminated the strife with novgorod by the peace which he loved, turned his attention to kief, and with characteristic humanity, gratified the wishes of the inhabitants by allowing them to accept roman, prince of smolensk, as their chieftain. roman entered the city, greeted by the most flattering testimonials of the joy of the inhabitants, while they united with him in the oath of allegiance to andré as the sovereign of russia. andré, who was ever disposed to establish his sovereign power, not by armies but by equity and moderation, and who seems truly to have felt that the welfare of russia required that all its provinces should be united under common laws and a common sovereign, turned his attention again to novgorod, hoping to persuade its inhabitants to relinquish their independence and ally themselves with the general empire. rurik, the brother of andré, who had been appointed prince of novgorod, proved unpopular, and was driven from his command. andré, instead of endeavoring to force him back upon them by the energies of his armies, with a wise spirit of conciliation acquiesced in their movement, and sent to them his young son, george, as a prince, offering to assist them with his counsel and to aid them with his military force whenever they should desire it. thus internal peace was established throughout the empire. by gradual advances, and with great sagacity, andré, from his humble palace in moscow, extended his influence over the remote provinces, and established his power. the princes of kief and its adjacent provinces became jealous of the encroachments of andré, and hostile feelings were excited. the king at length sent an embassador to them with very imperious commands. the embassador was seized at kief, his hair and beard shaven, and was then sent back to moscow with the defiant message, "until now we have wished to respect you as a father; but since you do not blush to treat us as vassals and as peasants--since you have forgotten that you speak to princes, we spurn your menaces. execute them. we appeal to the judgment of god." this grievous insult of word and deed roused the indignation of the aged monarch as it had never been roused before. he assembled an army of fifty thousand men, who were rendezvoused at novgorod, and placed under the command of the king's son, georges. another army, nearly equal in number, was assembled at tchernigof, collected from the principalities of polotsk, tourof, grodno, pinsk and smolensk. the bands of this army were under the several princes of the provinces. sviatoslaf, grandson of the renowned oleg, was entrusted with the supreme command. these two majestic forces were soon combined upon the banks of the dnieper. all resistance fled before them, and with strides of triumph they marched down the valley to kief. the princes who had aroused this storm of war fled to vouoychegorod, an important fortress further down the river, where they strongly entrenched themselves, and sternly awaited the advance of the foe. the royalist forces, having taken possession of kief, pursued the fugitives. the march of armies so vast, conducting war upon so grand a scale, excited the astonishment of all the inhabitants upon the river's banks. a little fortress, defended by a mere handful of men, appeared to them an object unworthy of an army sufficiently powerful to crush an empire. but in the fortress there was perfect unity, and its commander had the soul of a lion. in the camp of the besiegers there was neither harmony nor zeal. many of the princes were inimical to the king, and were jealous of his growing power. others were envious of sviatoslaf, the commander-in-chief, and were willing to sacrifice their own fame that he might be humbled. not a few even were in sympathy with the insurgents, and were almost disposed to unite under their banners. it was the th of september, , when the royalist forces encircled the fortress. gunpowder was then unknown, and contending armies could only meet hand to hand. for two months the siege was continued, with bloody conflicts every day. wintry winds swept the plains, and storms of snow whitened the fields, when, from the battlements of the fortress, the besieged saw the banners of another army approaching the arena. they knew not whether the distant battalions were friends or foes; but it was certain that their approach would decide the strife, for each party was so exhausted as to be unable to resist any new assailants. soon the signals of war proclaimed that an army was approaching for the rescue of the fortress. shouts of exultation rose from the garrison, which fell like the knell of death upon the ears of the besiegers, freezing on the plains. the alarm which spread through the camp was instantaneous and terrible. the darkness of a november night soon settled down over city and plain. with the first rays of the morning the garrison were upon the walls, when, to their surprise, they saw the whole vast army in rapid and disordered flight. the plains around the fortress were utterly deserted and covered with the wrecks of war. the garrison immediately rushed from behind their ramparts united with their approaching friends and pursued the fugitives. the royalists, in their dismay, attempted to cross the river on the fragile ice. it broke beneath the enormous weight, and thousands perished in the cold stream. the remainder of this great host were almost to a man either slain or taken captive. their whole camp and baggage fell into the hands of the conquerors. this wonderful victory, achieved by the energies of mstislaf, has given him a name in russian annals as one of the most renowned and brave of the princes of the empire. george, prince of novgorod, son of andré, escaped from the carnage of that ensanguined field, and overwhelmed with shame, returned to his father in moscow. the king, in this extremity, developed true greatness of soul. he exhibited neither dejection nor anger, but bowed to the calamity as to a chastisement he needed from god. the victory of the insurgents, if they may be so called, who occupied the provinces in the valley of the dnieper, was not promotive either of prosperity or peace. mindful of the former grandeur of kief, as the ancient capital of the russian empire, ambitious princes were immediately contending for the possession of that throne. after several months of confusion and blood, andré succeeded, by skillful diplomacy, in again inducing them, for the sake of general tranquillity, to come under the general government of the empire. the nobles could not but respect him as the most aged of their princes; as a man of imperial energy and ability, and as the one most worthy to be their chief. he alone had the power to preserve tranquillity in extended russia. they therefore applied to him to take kief, under certain restrictions, again into his protection, and to nominate for that city a prince who should be in his alliance. this homage was acceptable to andré. but while he was engaged in this negotiation, a conspiracy was formed against the monarch, and he was cruelly assassinated. it was the night of the th of june, . the king was sleeping in a chateau, two miles from moscow. at midnight the conspirators, twenty in number, having inflamed themselves with brandy, burst into the house and rushed towards the chamber where the aged monarch was reposing. the clamor awoke the king, and he sprang from the bed just as two of the conspirators entered his chamber. aged as the monarch was, with one blow of his vigorous arm he felled the foremost to the floor. the comrade of the assassin, in the confusion, thinking it was the king who had fallen, plunged his poignard to the hilt in his companion's breast. other assassins rushed in and fell upon the monarch. he was a man of gigantic powers, and struggled against his foes with almost supernatural energy, filling the chateau with his shrieks for help. at last, pierced with innumerable wounds, he fell in his blood, apparently silent in death. the assassins, terrified by the horrible scene, and apprehensive that the guard might come to the rescue of the king, caught up their dead comrade and fled. the monarch had, however, but fainted. he almost instantly revived, and with impetuosity and bravery, seized his sword and gave chase to the murderers, shouting with all his strength to his attendants to hasten to his aid. the assassins turned upon him. they had lanterns in their hands, and were twenty to one. the first blow struck off the right arm of the king; a saber thrust pierced his heart, passed through his body, and the monarch fell dead. his last words were, "lord, into thy hands i commit my spirit." there is, to this day, preserved a cimeter of grecian workmanship, which tradition says was the sword of andré. upon the blade is inscribed in greek letters, "holy mother of god, assist thy servant." the death of the monarch was the signal for the universal outbreak of violence and crime. where the sovereign is the only law, the death of the monarch is the destruction of the government. the anarchy which sometimes succeeded his death was awful. the russian annalists cherish the memory of andré affectionately. they say that he was courageous, sagacious and a true christian, and that he merited the title he has received of a second solomon. had he established his throne in the more central city of kief instead of the remote village of moscow, he could more efficiently have governed the empire; but, blinded by his love for his own northern realms, he was ambitious of elevating his own native village, unfavorable as was its location, into the capital of the empire. during his whole reign he manifested great zeal in extending christianity through the empire, and evinced great interest in efforts for the conversion of the jews. just before the death of the king, a number of the inhabitants of novgorod, fatigued with civil strife and crowded out by the density of the population, formed a party to emigrate to the uninhabited lands far away in the east. traversing a region of about three hundred miles on the parallel of fifty-seven degrees of latitude, they reached the head waters of the volga. here they embarked in boats and drifted down the wild stream for a thousand miles to the mouth of the river kama, where they established a colony. at this point they were twelve hundred miles north of the point where the volga empties into the caspian. other adventurers soon followed, and flourishing colonies sprang up all along the banks of the kama and the viatha. this region was the missouri valley of russia. by this emigration the russian name, its manners, its institutions, were extended through a sweep of a thousand miles. the colonists had many conflicts with the aboriginal inhabitants, but russian civilization steadily advanced over barbaric force. soon after the death of andré, the nobles of that region met in a public assembly to organize some form of confederate government. one of the speakers rose and said, "no one is ignorant of the manner in which we have lost our king. he has left but one son, who reigns at novgorod. the brothers of andré are in southern russia. who then shall we choose for our sovereign? let us elect michel, of tchernigof. he is the oldest son of monomaque and the most ancient of the princes of his family." embassadors were immediately sent to michel, offering him the throne and promising him the support of the confederate princes. michel hastened to moscow with a strong army, supported by several princes, and took possession of moscow and the adjacent provinces. a little opposition was manifested, which he speedily quelled with the sword. great rejoicings welcomed the enthronement of a new prince and the restoration of order. michel proved worthy of his elevation. he immediately traversed the different provinces in that region, and devoted himself to the tranquillity and prosperity of his people. the popularity of the new sovereign was at its height. all lips praised him, all hearts loved him. he was declared to be a special gift which heaven, in its boundless mercy, had conferred. unfortunately, this virtuous prince reigned but one year, leaving, however, in that short time, upon the russian annals many memorials of his valor and of his virtue. it was a barbaric age, rife with perfidy and crime, yet not one act of treachery or cruelty has sullied his name. it was his ambition to be the father of his people, and the glory he sought was the happiness and the greatness of his country. southern russia was still the theater of interminable civil war. the provinces were impoverished, and kief was fast sinking to decay. michel had a brother, vsevelod, who had accompanied him to moscow. the nobles and the leading citizens, their eyes still dim with the tears which they had shed over the tomb of their sovereign, urged him to accept the crown. he was not reluctant to accede to their request, and received their oaths of fidelity to him under the title of vsevelod iii. his title, however, was disputed by distant princes, and an armed band, approaching moscow by surprise, seized the town and reduced it to ashes, ravaged the surrounding region, and carried off the women and children as captives. vsevelod was, at the time, absent in the extreme northern portion of his territory, but he turned upon his enemies with the heart and with the strength of a lion. it was midwinter. regardless of storms, and snow and cold, he pursued the foe like the north wind, and crushed them as with an iron hand. with a large number of prisoners he returned to the ruins of moscow. two of the most illustrious of the hostile princes were among the prisoners. the people, enraged at the destruction of their city, fell upon the captives, and, seizing the two princes, tore out their eyes. vsevelod was a young man who had not acquired renown. many of the warlike princes of the spacious provinces regarded his elevation with envy. sviatoslaf, prince of tchernigof, was roused to intense hostility, and gathering around him the nobles of his province, resolved with a vigorous arm to seize for himself the throne. enlisting in his interests several other princes, he commenced his march against his sovereign. vsevelod prepared with vigor to repulse his assailants. after long and weary marchings the two armies met in the defiles of the mountains. a swift mountain-stream rushing along its rocky bed, between deep and precipitous banks, separated the combatants. for a fortnight they vainly assailed each other, hurling clouds of arrows and javelins across the stream, which generally fell harmless upon brazen helmet and buckler. but few were wounded, and still fewer slain. yet neither party dared venture the passage of the stream in the presence of the other. at length, weary of the unavailing conflict, sviatoslaf, the insurgent chief, sent a challenge to vsevelod, the sovereign. "let god," said he, "decide the dispute between us. let us enter into the open field with our two armies, and submit the question to the arbitrament of battle. you may choose either side of the river which you please." vsevelod did not condescend to make any reply to the rebellious prince. seizing his embassadors, he sent them as captives to vlademer, a fortress some hundred miles east of moscow. he hoped thus to provoke sviatoslaf to attempt the passage of the stream. but sviatoslaf was not to be thus entrapped. breaking up his camp, he retired to novgorod, where he was received with rejoicings by the inhabitants. here he established himself as a monarch, accumulated his forces, and began, by diplomacy and by arms, to extend his conquests over the adjacent principalities. he sent a powerful army to descend the banks of the dnieper, capturing all the cities on the right hand and on the left, and binding the inhabitants by oaths of allegiance. the army advancing with resistless strides arrived before the walls of kief, took possession of the deserted palaces of this ancient capital, and sviatoslaf proclaimed himself monarch of southern russia. but while sviatoslaf was thus prosecuting his conquests, at the distance of four hundred miles south of novgorod, vsevelod advanced with an army to this city, and was in his turn received by the novgorodians with the ringing of bells, bonfires and shouts of welcome. all the surrounding princes and nobles promptly gave in their adhesion to the victorious sovereign, and sviatoslaf found that all his conquests had vanished as by magic from beneath his hand. under these circumstances, vsevelod and sviatoslaf were both inclined to negotiation. as the result, it was agreed that vsevelod should be recognized as the monarch of russia, and that sviatoslaf should reign as tributary prince of kief. to bind anew the ties of friendship, vsevelod gave in marriage his beautiful sister to the youngest son of sviatoslaf. thus this civil strife was terminated. but the gates of the temple of janus were not yet to be closed. foreign war now commenced, and raged with unusual ferocity. six hundred miles east of moscow, was the country of bulgaria. it comprehended the present russian province of orenburg, and was bounded on the east by the ural mountains, and on the west by the volga. a population of nearly a million and a half inhabited this mountainous realm. commerce and arts flourished, and the people were enriched by their commerce with the grecian empire. they were, however, barbarians, and as even in the nineteenth century the slave trade is urged as a means of evangelizing the heathen of africa, war was urged with all its carnage and woe, as the agent of disseminating christianity through pagan bulgaria. the motive assigned for the war, was to serve christ, by the conversion of the infidel. the motives which influenced, were ambition, love of conquest and the desire to add to the opulence and the power of russia. vsevelod made grand preparations for this enterprise. conferring with the warlike sviatoslaf and other ambitious princes, a large army was collected at the head waters of the volga. they floated down the wild stream, in capacious flat-bottomed barges, till they came to the mouth of the kama. thus far their expedition had been like the jaunt of a gala day. summer warmth and sunny skies had cheered them as they floated down the romantic stream, through forests, between mountains and along flowery savannas, with pennants floating gayly in the air, and music swelling from their martial bands. war has always its commencement of pomp and pageantry, followed by its terminations of woe and despair. vsevelod in person led the army. near the mouth of the kama they abandoned their flotilla, which could not be employed in ascending the rapid stream. continuing their march by land, they pushed boldly into the country of the bulgarians, and laid siege to their capital, which was called "the great city." for six days the battle raged, and the city was taken. it proved, however, to be but a barren conquest. an arrow from the walls pierced the side of a beloved nephew of vsevelod. the young man, in excruciating agony, died in the arms of the monarch. vsevelod was so much affected by the sufferings which he was thus called to witness, that, dejected and disheartened, he made the best terms he could, soothing his pride by extorting from the vanquished a vague acknowledgment of subjection to the empire. he then commenced his long march of toil and suffering back again to moscow, over vast plains and through dense forests, having really accomplished nothing of any moment. the reign of vsevelod continued for thirty-seven years. it was a scene of incessant conflict with insurgent princes disputing his power and struggling for the supremacy. often his imperial title was merely nominal. again a successful battle would humble his foes and bring them in subjection to the foot of his throne. but, on the whole, during his reign the fragmentary empire gained solidity, the monarchical arm gained strength, and the sovereign obtained a more marked supremacy above the rival princes who had so long disputed the power of the throne. vsevelod died, generally regretted, on the th of april, . in the russian annals, he has received the surname of great. his reign, compared with that of most of his predecessors, was happy. he left, in churches and in fortresses, many monuments of his devotion and of his military skill. his wife, maria, seems to have been a woman of sincere piety. her brief pilgrimage on earth, passed six hundred years ago, led her through the same joys and griefs which in the nineteenth century oppress human hearts. the last seven years of her life she passed on a bed of sickness and extreme suffering. the patience she displayed caused her to be compared with the patriarch job. just before she died, she assembled her six surviving children around her bed. as with tears they gazed upon the emaciated cheeks of their beloved and dying mother, she urged them to love god, to study the bible, to give their hearts to the saviour and to live for heaven. she died universally regretted and revered. the reign of vsevelod was cotemporaneous with the conquest of constantinople by the crusaders. the latin or roman church thus for a season extended its dominion over the greek or eastern church. the french and venetians; robbed the rich churches of constantine of their paintings, statuary, relics and all their treasures of art. the greek emperor himself fled in disguise to thrace. the roman pontiff, innocent iii., deeming this a favorable moment to supplant the greek religion in russia, sent letters to the russian clergy, in which he said: "the religion of rome is becoming universally triumphant. the whole grecian empire has recognized the spiritual power of the pope. will you be the only people who refuse to enter into the fold of christ, and to recognize the roman church as the ark of salvation, out of which no one can be saved? i have sent to you a cardinal; a man noble, well-instructed, and legate of the successors of the apostles. he has received full power to enlighten the minds of the russians, and to rescue them from all their errors." this pastoral exhortation was entirely unavailing. the bishops and clergy of the russian church still pertinaciously adhered to the faith of their fathers. the crusaders were ere long driven from the imperial city, and the greek church again attained its supremacy in the east, a supremacy which it has maintained to the present day. chapter vi. the grand princes of vladimir, and the invasion of genghis khan. from to . accession of georges.--famine.--battle of lipetsk.--defeat of georges.--his surrender.--constantin seizes the scepter.--exploits of mstislaf.--imbecility of constantin.--death of constantin.--georges iii.--invasion of bulgaria.--progress of the monarchy.--right of succession.--commerce of the dnieper.--genghis khan.--his rise and conquests.--invasion of southern russia.--death of genghis khan.--succession of his son ougadai.--march of bati.--entrance into russia.--utter defeat of the russians. moscow was the capital of a province then called souzdal. north-west of this province there was another large principality called vladimir, with a capital of the same name. north of these provinces there was an extensive territory named yaroslavle. immediately after the death of vsevolod, a brother of the deceased monarch, named georges, ascended the throne with the assent of all the nobles of souzdal and vladimir. at the same time his brother constantin, prince of yaroslavle, claimed the crown. eager partizans rallied around the two aspirants. constantin made the first move by burning the town of kostroma and carrying off the inhabitants as captives. georges replied by an equally sanguinary assault upon rostof. such, war has ever been. when princes quarrel, being unable to strike each other, they wreak their vengeance upon innocent and helpless villages, burning their houses, slaying sons and brothers, and either dragging widows and orphans into captivity or leaving them to perish of exposure and starvation. in this conflict georges was victor, and he assigned to his brothers and cousins the administration of the provinces of southern russia. still the ancient annals give us nothing but a dreary record of war. a very energetic prince arose, by the name of mstislaf, who, for years, strode over subjugated provinces, desolating them with fire and sword. another horrible famine commenced its ravages at this time, caused principally by the desolations of war, throughout all northern and eastern russia. the starving inhabitants ate the bark of trees, leaves and the most disgusting reptiles. the streets were covered with the bodies of the dead, abandoned to the dogs. crowds of skeleton men and women wandered through the fields, in vain seeking food, and ever dropping in the convulsions of death. christian faith is stunned in the contemplation of such woes, and yet it sees in them but the fruits of man's depravity. the enigma of life can find no solution but in divine revelation--and even that revelation does but show in what direction the solution lies. mstislaf of novgorod, encouraged by his military success, and regardless of the woes of the populace, entered into an alliance with constantin, promising, with his aid, to drive georges from the throne, and to place the scepter in the hands of constantin. the king sent an army of ten thousand men against the insurgents. all over russia there was the choosing of sides, as prince after prince ranged his followers under the banners of one or of the other of the combatants. at last the two armies met upon the banks of the river kza. the russian annalists say that the sovereign was surrounded with the banners of thirty regiments, accompanied by a military band of one hundred and forty trumpets and drums. the insurgent princes, either alarmed by the power of the sovereign, or anxious to spare the effusion of blood, proposed terms of accommodation. "it is too late to talk of peace," said georges. "you are now as fishes on the land. you have advanced too far, and your destruction is inevitable." the embassadors retired in sadness. georges then assembled his captains, and gave orders to form the troops in line of battle. addressing the troops, he said: "let no soldier's life be spared. aim particularly at the officers. the helmets, the clothes and the horses of the dead shall belong to you. let us not be troubled with any prisoners. the princes alone may be taken captive, and reserved for public execution." both parties now prepared, with soundings of the trumpet and shoutings of the soldiers, for combat. it was in the early dawn of the morning that the celebrated battle of lipetsk commenced. the arena of strife was a valley, broken by rugged hills, on the head waters of the don, about two hundred miles south of moscow. it was a gloomy day of wind, and clouds and rain; and while the cruel tempest of man's passion swept the earth, an elemental tempest wrecked the skies. from the morning till the evening twilight the battle raged, inspired by the antagonistic forces of haughty confidence and of despair. darkness separated the combatants, neither party having gained any decisive advantage. the night was freezing cold, a chill april wind sweeping the mists over the heights, upon which the two hosts, exhausted and bleeding, slept upon their arms, each fearing a midnight surprise. with the earliest dawn of the next morning the battle was renewed; both armies defiantly and simultaneously moving down from the hills to meet on the plains. mstislaf rode along the ranks of his troops, exclaiming: "let no man turn his head. retreat now is destruction. let us forget our wives and children, and fight for our lives." his soldiers, with shouts of enthusiasm, threw aside all encumbering clothes, and uttering those loud outcries with which semi-barbarians ever rush into battle, impetuously fell upon the advancing foe. mstislaf was a prince of herculean stature and strength. with a battle-ax in his hands, he advanced before the troops, and it is recorded that, striking on the right hand and the left, he cut a path through the ranks of the enemy as a strong man would trample down the grain. a wake of the dead marked his path. it was one of the most deplorable of russian battles, for the dispute had arrayed the son against the father, brother against brother, friend against friend. the victory, however, was now not for a moment doubtful. the royal forces were entirely routed, and were pursued with enormous slaughter by the victorious mstislaf. nearly ten thousand of the followers of georges were slain upon the field of battle. georges having had three horses killed beneath him, escaped, and on the fourth day reached vladimir, where he found only old men, women, children and ecclesiastics, so entirely had he drained the country for the war. the king himself was the first to announce to the citizens of vladimir the terrible defeat. wan from fatigue and suffering, he rode in at the gates, his hair disheveled, and his clothing torn. as he traversed the streets, he called earnestly upon all who remained to rally upon the walls for their defense. it was late in the afternoon when the king reached the metropolis. during the night a throng of fugitives was continually entering the city, wounded and bleeding. in the early morning, the king assembled the citizens in the public square, and urged them to a desperate resistance. but they, disheartened by the awful reverse, exclaimed: "prince, courage can no longer save us. our brethren have perished on the field of battle. those who have escaped are wounded, exhausted and unarmed. we are unable to oppose the enemy." georges entreated them to make at least a show of resistance, that he might open negotiations with the foe. soon mstislaf appeared, leading his troops in solid phalanx, with waving banners and trumpet blasts, and surrounded the city. in the night, a terrible conflagration burst forth within the city, and his soldiers entreated him to take advantage of the confusion for an immediate assault. the magnanimous conqueror refused to avail himself of the calamity, and restrained the ardor of his troops. the next morning, georges despairing of any further defense, rode from the gates into the camp of mstislaf. "you are victorious," said he. "dispose of me and my fortunes as you will. my brother constantin will be obedient to your wishes." the unhappy prince was sent into exile. embarking, with his wife and children, and a few faithful followers, in barges, at the head waters of the volga, he floated down the stream towards the caspian sea, and disappeared for ever from the observation of history. constantin was now raised to the imperial throne through the energies of mstislaf. this latter prince returned to his domains in novgorod, and under the protection of the throne he rivaled the monarch in splendor and power. constantin established his capital at vladimir, about one hundred and fifty miles west of moscow. the warlike mstislaf, greedy of renown, with the chivalry of a knight-errant, sought to have a hand in every quarrel then raging far or near. southern russia continued in a state of incessant embroilments; and the princes of the provinces, but nominally in subjection to the crown, lived in a state of interminable war. occasionally they would sheath the sword of civil strife and combine in some important expedition against the hungarians or the poles. but tranquillity reigned in the principality of vladimir; and the adjacent provinces, influenced by the pacific policy of the sovereign, or overawed by his power, cultivated the arts of peace. constantin, however, was effeminate as well as peaceful. the tremendous energy of mstislaf had shed some luster upon him, and thus, for a time, it was supposed that he possessed a share, no one knew how great, of that extraordinary vigor which had placed him on the throne. but now, mstislaf was far away on bloody fields in hungary, and the princes in the vicinity of vladimir soon found that constantin had no spirit to resent any of their encroachments. enormous crimes were perpetrated with impunity. princes were assassinated, and the murderers seized their castles and their scepters, while the imbecile constantin, instead of avenging such outrages, contented himself with shedding tears, building churches, distributing alms, and kissing the relics of the saints, which had been sent to him from constantinople. thus he lived for several years, a superstitious, perhaps a pious man; but, so utterly devoid of energy, of enlightened views respecting his duty as a ruler, that the helpless were unprotected, and the wicked rioted unpunished in crime. he died in the year at the early age of thirty-three. finding death approaching, he called his two sons to his bedside, and exhorted them to live in brotherly affection, to be the benefactors of widows and orphans, and especially to be the supporters of religion. the wife of constantin, imbibing his spirit, immediately upon his death renounced the world, and retiring to the cloisters of a convent, immured herself in its glooms until she also rejoined her husband in the spirit land. georges ii., son of vsevelod, now ascended the throne. he signalized the commencement of his reign by a military excursion to oriental bulgaria. descending the volga in barges to the mouth of the kama, he invaded, with a well-disciplined army, the realm he wished to subjugate. the russians approached the city of ochel. it was strongly fortified with palisades and a double wall of wood. the assailants approached, led by a strong party with hatchets and torches. they were closely followed by archers and lancers to drive the defenders from the ramparts. the palisades were promptly cut down and set on fire. the flames spread to the wooden walls; and over the burning ruins the assailants rushed into the city. a high wind arose, and the whole city, whose buildings were constructed of wood only, soon blazed like a volcano. the wretched citizens had but to choose between the swords of the russians and the fire. many, in their despair, plunged their poignards into the bosoms of their wives and children, and then buried the dripping blade in their own hearts. multitudes of the russians, even, encircled by the flames in the narrow streets, miserably perished. in a few hours the city and nearly all of its male inhabitants were destroyed. extensive regions of the country were then ravaged, and bulgaria, as a conquered province, was considered as annexed to the russian empire. georges enriched with plunder and having extorted oaths of allegiance from most of the bulgarian princes, reascended the volga to vladimir. as he was on his return he laid the foundations of a new city, nijni novgorod, at the confluence of two important streams about two hundred miles west of moscow. the city remains to the present day. it will be perceived through what slow and vacillating steps the russian monarchy was established. in the earliest dawn of the kingdom, yaroslaf divided russia into five principalities. to his eldest son he gave the title of grand prince, constituting him, by his will, chief or monarch of the whole kingdom. his younger brothers were placed over the principalities, holding them as vassals of the grand prince at kief, and transmitting the right of succession to their children. ysiaslaf, and some of his descendants, men of great energy, succeeded in holding under more or less of restraint the turbulent princes, who were simply entitled _princes_, to distinguish them from the _grand prince_ or monarch. these princes had under them innumerable vassal lords, who, differing in wealth and extent of dominions, governed, with despotic sway, the serfs or peasants subject to their power. no government could be more simple than this; and it was the necessary resultant of those stormy times. but in process of time feeble grand princes reigned at kief. the vassal princes, strengthening themselves in alliances with one another, or seeking aid from foreign semi-civilized nations, such as the poles, the danes, the hungarians, often imposed laws upon their nominal sovereign, and not unfrequently drove him from the throne, and placed upon it a monarch of their own choice. sviatopolk ii. was driven to the humiliation of appearing to defend himself from accusation before the tribunal of his vassal princes. monomaque and mstislaf i., with imperial energy, brought all the vassal princes in subjection to their scepter, and reigned as monarchs. but their successors, not possessing like qualities, were unable to maintain the regal dignity; and gradually kief sank into a provincial town, and the scepter was transferred to the principality of souzdal. andré, of souzdal, abolished the system of _appanages_, as it was called, in which the principalities were in entire subjection to the princes who reigned over them, these princes only rendering vassal service to the sovereign. he, in their stead, appointed governors over the distant provinces, who were his agents to execute his commands. this measure gave new energy and consolidation to the monarchy, and added incalculable strength to the regal arm. but the grand princes, who immediately succeeded andré, had not efficiency to maintain this system, and the princes again regained their position of comparative independence. indeed, they were undisputed sovereigns of their principalities, bound only to recognize the superior rank of the grand prince, and to aid him, when called upon, as allies. in process of time the princes of the five great principalities, pereiaslavle, tchernigof, kief, novgorod and smolensk, were subdivided, through the energies of warlike nobles, into minor appanages, or independent provinces, independent in every thing save feudal service, a service often feebly recognized and dimly defined. the sovereigns of the great provinces assumed the title of grand princes. the smaller sovereigns were simply called princes. under these princes were the petty lords or nobles. the spirit of all evil could not have devised a system better calculated to keep a nation incessantly embroiled in war. the princes of novgorod claimed the right of choosing their grand prince. in all the other provinces the scepter was nominally hereditary. in point of fact, it was only hereditary when the one who ascended the throne had sufficient vigor of arm to beat back his assailing foes. for two hundred years, during nearly all of the eleventh and twelfth centuries, it is with difficulty we can discern any traces of the monarchy. the history of russia during this period is but a history of interminable battles between the grand princes, and petty, yet most cruel and bloody, conflicts between the minor princes. the doctrine of the hereditary descent of the governing power was the cause of nearly all these conflicts. a semi-idiot or a brutal ruffian was thus often found the ruler of millions of energetic men. war and bloodshed were, of course, the inevitable result. this absurdity was, perhaps, a necessary consequence of the ignorance and brutality of the times. but happy is that nation which is sufficiently enlightened to choose its own magistrates and to appreciate the sanctity of the ballot-box. the history of the united states thus far, with its elective administrations, is a marvel of tranquillity, prosperity and joy, as it is recorded amidst the bloody pages of this world's annals. according to the ancient custom of russia, the right of succession transferred the crown, not to the oldest son, but to the brother or the most aged member belonging to the family connections of the deceased prince. the energetic monomaque violated this law by transferring the crown to his son, when, by custom, it should have passed to the prince of tchernigof. hence, for ages, there was implacable hatred between these two houses, and russia was crimsoned with the blood of a hundred battle-fields. nearly all the commerce of russia, at this time, was carried on between kief and constantinople by barges traversing the dnieper and the black sea. these barges went strongly armed as a protection against the barbarians who crowded the banks of the river. the stream, being thus the great thoroughfare of commerce, received the popular name of _the road to greece_. the russians exported rich furs in exchange for the cloths and spices of the east. as the russian power extended toward the rising sun, the volga and the caspian sea became the highways of a prosperous, though an interrupted, commerce. it makes the soul melancholy to reflect upon these long, long ages of rapine, destruction and woe. but for this, had man been true to himself, the whole of russia might now have been almost a garden of eden, with every marsh drained, every stream bridged, every field waving with luxuriance, every deformity changed into an object of beauty, with roads and canals intersecting every mile of its territory, with gorgeous cities embellishing the rivers' banks and the mountain sides, and cottages smiling upon every plain. man has no foe to his happiness so virulent and deadly as his brother man. the heaviest curse is human depravity. we now approach, in the early part of the thirteenth century, one of the most extraordinary events which has occurred in the history of man: the sweep of tartar hordes over all of northern asia and europe, under their indomitable leader, genghis khan. in the extreme north of the chinese empire, just south of irkoutsk, in the midst of desert wilds, unknown to greek or roman, there were wandering tribes called mogols. they were a savage, vagabond race, without any fixed habitations, living by the chase and by herding cattle. the chief of one of these tribes, greedy of renown and power, conquered several of the adjacent tribes, and brought them into very willing subjection to his sway. war was a pastime for their fierce spirits, and their bold chief led them to victory and abundant booty. this barbarian conqueror, bayadour by name, died in the prime of life, surrendering his wealth and power to his son, temoutchin, then but thirteen years of age. this boy thus found himself lord of forty thousand families. still he was but a subordinate prince or khan, owing allegiance to the tartar sovereign of northern china. brought up by his mother in the savage simplicity of a wandering shepherd's hut, he developed a character which made him the scourge of the world, and one of its most appalling wonders. the most illustrious monarchies were overturned by the force of his arms, and millions of men were brought into subjection to his power. at the death of his father, bayadour, many of the subjugated clans endeavored to break the yoke of the boy prince. temoutchin, with the vigor and military sagacity of a veteran warrior, assembled an army of thirty thousand men, defeated the rebels, and plunged their leaders, seventy in number, each into a caldron of boiling water. elated by such brilliant success, the young prince renounced allegiance to the tartar sovereign and assumed independence. terrifying his enemies by severity, rewarding his friends with rich gifts, and overawing the populace by claims of supernatural powers, this extraordinary young man commenced a career of conquest which the world has never seen surpassed. assembling his ferocious hordes, now enthusiastically devoted to his service, upon the banks of a rapid river, he took a solemn oath to share with them all the bitter and the sweet which he should encounter in the course of his life. the neighboring prince of kerait ventured to draw the sword against him. he forfeited his head for his audacity, and his skull, trimmed with silver, was converted into a drinking cup. at the close of this expedition, his vast army were disposed in nine different camps, upon the head waters of the river amour. each division had tents of a particular color. on a festival day, as all were gazing with admiration upon their youthful leader, a hermit, by previous secret appointment, appeared as a prophet from heaven. approaching the prince, the pretended embassador from the celestial court, declared, in a loud voice, "god has given the whole earth to temoutchin. as the sovereign of the world, he is entitled to the name of genghis khan (_the great prince_)." no one was disposed to question the divine authority of this envoy from the skies. shouts of applause rent the air, and chiefs and warriors, with unanimous voice, expressed their eagerness to follow their leader wherever he might guide them. admiration of his prowess and the terror of his arms spread far and wide, and embassadors thronged his tent from adjacent nations, wishing to range themselves beneath his banners. even the monarch of thibet, overawed, sent messengers to offer his service as a vassal prince to genghis khan. the conqueror now made an irruption into china proper, and with his wolfish legions, clambering the world-renowned wall, routed all the armies raised to oppose him, and speedily was master of ninety cities. finding himself encumbered with a crowd of prisoners, he selected a large number of the aged and choked them to death. the sovereign, thoroughly humiliated, purchased peace by a gift of five hundred young men, five hundred beautiful girls, three thousand horses and an immense quantity of silks and gold. genghis khan retired to the north with his treasures; but soon again returned, and laid siege to pekin, the capital of the empire. with the energies of despair, though all unavailingly, the inhabitants attempted their defense. it was the year when pekin fell before the arms of the mogol conqueror. the whole city was immediately committed to flames, and the wasting conflagration raged for a whole month, when nothing was left of the once beautiful and populous city but a heap of ashes. leaving troops in garrison throughout the subjugated country, the conqueror commenced his march towards the west, laden with the spoils of plundered cities. like the rush of a torrent, his armies swept along until they entered the vast wilds of turkomania. here the "great and the mighty saladin" had reigned, extending his sway from the caspian sea to the ganges, dictating laws even to the caliph at bagdad, who was the pope of the mohammedans. mahomet ii. now held the throne, a prince so haughty and warlike, that he arrogated the name of the second alexander the great. with two such spirits heading their armies, a horrible war ensued. the capital of this region, bokhara, had attained a very considerable degree of civilization, and was renowned for its university, where the mohammedan youth, of noble families, were educated. the city, after an unavailing attempt at defense, was compelled to capitulate. the elders of the metropolis brought the keys and laid them at the feet of the conqueror. genghis khan rode contemptuously on horseback into the sacred mosque, and seizing the alcoran from the altar, threw it upon the floor and trampled it beneath the hoofs of his steed. the whole city was inhumanly reduced to ashes. from bokhara he advanced to samarcande. this city was strongly fortified, and contained a hundred thousand soldiers within its walls, besides an immense number of elephants trained to fight. the city was soon taken. thirty thousand were slain, and thirty thousand carried into perpetual slavery. all the adjacent cities soon shared a similar fate. for three years the armies of genghis khan ravaged the whole country between the aral lake and the indus, with such fearful devastation that for six hundred years the region did not recover from the calamity. mahomet ii., pursued by his indefatigable foe, fled to one of the islands of the caspian sea, where he perished in paroxysms of rage and despair. genghis khan having thoroughly subdued this whole region, now sent a division of his army, under two of his most distinguished generals, across the caspian sea to subjugate the regions on the western shore. here, as before, victory accompanied their standards, and, with merciless severity, they swept the whole country to the sea of azof. the tidings of their advance, so bloody, so resistless, spread into russia, exciting universal terror. the conquerors, elated with success, rushed on over the plains of russia, and were already pouring down into the valley of the dnieper. mstislaf, prince of galitch, already so renowned for his warlike exploits, was eager to measure arms with those soldiers, the terror of whose ravages now filled the world. he hurriedly assembled all the neighboring princes at kief, and urged immediate and vigorous coöperation to repel the common foe. the russian army was promptly rendezvoused on the banks of the dnieper, preparatory to its march. another large army was collected by the russian princes who inhabited the valley of the dniester. in a thousand barges they descended the river to the black sea. then entering the dnieper they ascended the stream to unite with the main army waiting impatiently their arrival. on the st of may, the whole force was put in motion, and after a march of nine days, met the tartar army on the banks of the river kalets. the waving banners and the steeds of the tartar host, covering the plains as far as the eye could extend, in numbers apparently countless, presented an appalling spectacle. many of the russian leaders were quite in despair; others, young, ardent, inexperienced, were eager for the fight. the battle immediately commenced, and the combatants fought with all the ferocity which human energies could engender. but the russians were, in the end, routed entirely. the tartars drove the bleeding fugitives in wild confusion before them back to the dnieper. never before had russia encountered so frightful a disaster. the whole army was destroyed. not one tenth of their number escaped that field of massacre. seven princes, and seventy of the most illustrious nobles were among the slain. the tartars followed up their victory with their accustomed inhumanity, and, as if it were their intention to depopulate the country, swept it in all directions, putting the inhabitants indiscriminately to the sword. they acted upon the maxim which they ever proclaimed, "the conquered can never be the friends of the conquerors; and the death of the one is essential to the safety of the other." the whole of southern russia trembled with terror; and men, women and children, in utter helplessness, with groans and cries fled to the churches, imploring the protection of god. that divine power which alone could aid them, interposed in their behalf. for some unknown reason, genghis khan recalled his troops to the shores of the caspian, where this blood-stained conqueror, in the midst of his invincible armies, dictated laws to the vast regions he had subjected to his will. this frightful storm having left utter desolation behind it, passed away as rapidly as it had approached. scathed as by the lightnings of heaven, the whole of southern russia east of the dnieper was left smoking like a furnace. the nominal king, georges ii., far distant in the northern realms of souzdal and vladimir, listened appalled to the reports of the tempest raging over the southern portion of the kingdom; and when the dark cloud disappeared and its thunders ceased, he congratulated himself in having escaped its fury. after the terrible battle of kalka, six years passed before the locust legions of the tartars again made their appearance; and russia hoped that the scourge had disappeared for ever. in the year , genghis khan died. it has been estimated that the ambition of this one man cost the lives of between five and six millions of the human family. he nominated as his successor his oldest son octai, and enjoined it upon him never to make peace but with vanquished nations. ambitious of being the conqueror of the world, octai ravaged with his armies the whole of northern china. in the heart of tartary he reared his palace, embellished with the highest attainments of chinese art. raising an army of three hundred thousand men, the tartar sovereign placed his nephew bati in command, and ordered him to bring into subjection all the nations on the northern shores of the caspian sea, and then to continue his conquests throughout all the expanse of northern russia. a bloody strife of three years planted his banners upon every cliff and through all the defiles of the ural mountains, and then the victor plunging down the western declivities of this great natural barrier between europe and asia, established his troops, for winter quarters, in the valley of the volga. to strike the region with terror, he burned the capital city of bulgaria and put all the inhabitants to the sword. early in the spring of the year , with an army, say the ancient annalists, "as innumerable as locusts," he crossed the volga, and threading many almost impenetrable forests, after a march, in a north-west direction, of about four hundred miles, entered the province of rezdan just south of souzdal. he then sent an embassage to the king and his confederate princes, saying: "if you wish for peace with the tartars you must pay us an annual tribute of one tenth of your possessions." the heroic reply was returned, "when you have slain us all, you can then take all that we have." bati, at the head of his terrible army, continued his march through the populous province of rezdan, burning every dwelling and endeavoring, with indiscriminate massacre, to exterminate the inhabitants. city after city fell before them until they approached the capital. this they besieged, first surrounding it with palisades that it might not be possible for any of the inhabitants to escape. the innumerable host pressed the siege day and night, not allowing the defenders one moment for repose. on the sixteenth day, after many had been slain and all the citizens were in utter exhaustion from toil and sleeplessness, they commenced the final assault with ladders and battering rams. the walls of wood were soon set on fire, and, through flame and smoke, the demoniac assailants rushed into the city. indiscriminate massacre ensued of men, women and children, accompanied with the most revolting cruelty. the carnage continued for many hours, and, when it ceased, the city was reduced to ashes, and not one of its inhabitants was left alive. the conquerors then rushed on to moscow. here the tempest of battle raged for a few days, and then moscow followed in the footsteps of rezdan. chapter vii. the sway of the tartar princes. from to . retreat of georges ii.--desolating march of the tartars.--capture of vladimir.--fall of moscow.--utter defeat of georges.--conflict at torjek.--march of the tartars toward the south.--subjugation of the polovtsi.--capture of kief.--humiliation of yaroslaf.--overthrow of the russian kingdom.--haughtiness of the tartars.--reign of alexander.--succession of yaroslaf.--the reign of vassuli.--state of christianity.--infamy of andré.--struggles with dmitri.--independence of the principalities.--death of andré. the king, georges, fled from moscow before it was invested by the enemy, leaving its defense to two of his sons. retiring, in a panic, to the remote northern province of yaroslaf, he encamped, with a small force, upon one of the tributaries of the mologa, and sent earnest entreaties to numerous princes to hasten, with all the forces they could raise, and join his army. the tartars from moscow marched north-west some one hundred and fifty miles to the imperial city of vladimir. they appeared before its walls on the d of february. on the evening of the th the battering rams and ladders were prepared, and it was evident that the storming of the city was soon to begin. the citizens, conscious that nothing awaited them but death or endless slavery, with one accord resolved to sell their lives as dearly as possible. accompanied by their wives and their children, they assembled in the churches, partook of the sacrament of the lord's supper, implored heaven's blessing upon them, and then husbands, brothers, fathers, took affecting leave of their families and repaired to the walls for the deadly strife. early on the morning of the th the assault commenced. the impetuosity of the onset was irresistible. in a few moments the walls were scaled, the streets flooded with the foe, the pavements covered with the dead, and the city on fire in an hundred places. the conquerors did not wish to encumber themselves with captives. all were slain. laden with booty and crimsoned with the blood of their foes, the victors dispersed in every direction, burning and destroying, but encountering no resistance. during the month they took fourteen cities, slaying all the inhabitants but such as they reserved for slaves. the monarch, georges, was still upon the banks of the sité, near where it empties into the mologa, when he heard the tidings of the destruction of moscow and vladimir, and of the massacre of his wife and his children. his eyes filled with tears, and in the anguish of his spirit he prayed that god would enable him to exemplify the patience of job. adversity develops the energies of noble spirits. georges rallied his troops and made a desperate onset upon the foe as they approached his camp. it was the morning of the th of march. but again the battle was disastrous to russia. mogol numbers triumphed over russian valor, and the king and nearly all his army were slain. some days after the battle the bishop of rostof traversed the field, covered with the bodies of the dead. there he discovered the corpse of the monarch, which he recognized by the clothes. the head had been severed from the body. the bishop removed the gory trunk of the prince and gave it respectful burial in the church of notre dame at rostof. the head was subsequently found and deposited in the coffin with the body. the conquerors, continuing their march westerly one hundred and fifty miles, burning and destroying as they went, reached the populous city of torjek. the despairing inhabitants for fifteen days beat off the assailants. the city then fell; its ruin was entire. the dwellings became but the funeral pyres for the bodies of the slain. the army of bati then continued its march to lake seliger, the source of the volga, within one hundred miles of the great city of novgorod. "villages disappeared," write the ancient annalists, "and the heads of the russians fell under the swords of the tartars as the grass falls before the scythe." instead of pressing on to novgorod, for some unknown reason bati turned south, and, marching two hundred miles, laid siege to the strong fortress of kozelsk, in the principality of kalouga. the garrison, warned of the advance of the foe, made the most heroic resistance. for four weeks they held their assailants at bay, banking every effort of the vast numbers who encompassed them. a more determined and heroic defense was never made. at last the fortress fell, and not one soul escaped the exterminating sword. bati, now satiated with carnage, retired, with his army, to the banks of the don. yaroslaf, prince of kief, and brother of georges ii., hoping that the dreadful storm had passed away, hastened to the smouldering ruins of vladimir to take the title and the shadowy authority of grand prince. never before were more conspicuously seen the energies of a noble soul. at first it seemed that his reign could be extended only over gory corpses and smouldering ruins. undismayed by the magnitude of the disaster, he consecrated all the activity of his genius and the loftiness of his spirit to the regeneration of the desolated land. in the spacious valleys of the don and its tributaries lived the powerful nation of the polovtsi, who had often bid defiance to the whole strength of russia. kothian, their prince, for a short time made vigorous opposition to the march of the conquerors. but, overwhelmed by numbers, he was at length compelled to retreat, and, with his army of forty thousand men, to seek a refuge in hungary. the country of the polovtsi was then abandoned to the tartars. having ravaged the central valleys of the don and the volga, these demoniac warriors turned their steps again into southern russia. the inhabitants, frantic with terror, fled from their line of march as lambs fly from wolves. the blasts of their trumpets and the clatter of their horses' hoofs were speedily resounding in the valley of the dnieper. soon from the steeples of kief the banners of the terrible army were seen approaching from the east. they crossed the dnieper and surrounded the imperial city, which, for some time anticipating the storm, had been making preparation for the most desperate resistance. the ancient annalists say that the noise of their innumerable chariots, the lowing of camels and of the vast herds of cattle which accompanied their march, the neighing of horses and the ferocious cries of the barbarians, created such a clamor that no ordinary voice could be heard in the heart of the city. the attack was speedily commenced, and the walls were assailed with all the then-known instruments of war. day and night, without a moment's intermission, the besiegers, like incarnate fiends, plied their works. the tartars, as ever, were victorious, and kief, with all its thronging population and all its treasures of wealth, architecture and art, sank in an abyss of flame and blood. it sank to rise no more. though it has since been partially rebuilt, this ancient capital of the grand princes of russia, even now presents but the shadow of its pristine splendor. onward, still onward, was the cry of the barbarians. leaving smoking brands and half-burnt corpses where the imperial city once stood, the insatiable bati pressed on hundreds of miles further west, assailing, storming, destroying the provinces of gallicia as far as southern vladimir within a few leagues of the frontiers of poland. russia being thus entirely devastated and at the feet of the conquerors, bati wheeled his army around toward the south and descended into hungary. novgorod was almost the only important city in russia which escaped the ravages of this terrible foe. bati continued his career of conquest, and, in , was almost undisputed master of russia, of many of the polish provinces, of hungary, croatia, servia, bulgaria on the danube, moldavia and wallachia. he then returned to the volga and established himself there as permanent monarch over all these subjugated realms. no one dared to resist him. bati sent a haughty message to the grand prince yaroslaf at northern vladimir, ordering him to come to his camp on the distant volga. yaroslaf, in the position in which he found himself--russia being exhausted, depopulated, covered with ruins and with graves--did not dare disobey. accompanied by several of his nobles, he took the weary journey, and humbly presented himself in the tent of the conqueror. bati compelled the humiliated prince to send his young son, constantin, to tartary, to the palace of the grand khan octai, who was about to celebrate, with his chiefs, the brilliant conquests his army had made in china and europe. if the statements of the annalists of those days may be credited, so sumptuous a fête the world had never seen before. the guests, assembled in the metropolis of the khan, were innumerable. yaroslaf was compelled to promise allegiance to the tartar chieftain, and all the other russian princes, who had survived the general slaughter, were also forced to pay homage and tribute to bati. after two years, the young prince, constantin, returned from tartary, and then yaroslaf himself was ordered, with all his relatives, to go to the capital of this barbaric empire on the banks of the amour, where the tartar chiefs were to meet to choose a successor to octai, who had recently died. with tears the unhappy prince bade adieu to his country, and, traversing vast deserts and immense regions of hills and valleys, he at length reached the metropolis of his cruel masters. here he successfully defended himself against some accusations which had been brought against him, and, after a detention of several months, he was permitted to set out on his return. he had proceeded but a few hundred miles on the weary journey when he was taken sick, and died the th of september, . the faithful nobles who accompanied him bore his remains to vladimir, where they were interred. there was no longer a russian kingdom. the country had lost its independence; and the tartar sway, rude, vacillating and awfully cruel, extended from remote china to the shores of the baltic. the roman, grecian and russian empires thus crumbling, the world was threatened with an universal inundation of barbarism. russian princes, with more or less power ruled over the serfs who tilled their lands, but there was no recognized head of the once powerful kingdom, and no russian prince ventured to disobey the commands even of the humblest captain of the tartar hordes. while affairs were in this deplorable state, a russian prince, daniel, of gallicia, engaged secretly, but with great vigor, in the attempt to secure the coöperation of the rest of europe to emancipate russia from the tartar yoke. greece, overawed by the barbarians, did not dare to make any hostile movement against them. daniel turned to rome, and promised the pope, innocent iv., that russia should return to the roman church, and would march under the papal flag if the pope would rouse christian europe against the tartars. the pope eagerly embraced these offers, pronounced daniel to be king of russia, and sent the papal legate to appoint roman bishops over the greek church. at the same time he wished to crown daniel with regal splendor. "i have need," exclaimed the prince, "of an army, not of a crown. a crown is but a childish ornament when the yoke of the barbarian is galling our necks." daniel at length consented, for the sake of its moral influence, to be crowned king, and the pope issued his letters calling upon the faithful to unite under the banners of the cross, to drive the barbarians from europe. this union, however, accomplished but little, as the pope was only anxious to bring the greek church under the sway of rome, and daniel sought only military aid to expel the tartars; each endeavoring to surrender as little and to gain as much as possible. one of the christian nobles endeavored to persuade mangou, a tartar chieftain, of the superiority of the christian religion. the pagan replied; "we are not ignorant that there is a god; and we love him with all our heart. there are more ways of salvation than there are fingers on your hands. if god has given you the bible, he has given us our _wise men_ (magi). but _you_ do not obey the precepts of your bible, while _we_ are perfectly obedient to the instructions of our magi, and never think of disputing their authority." the pride of these tartar conquerors may be inferred from the following letter, sent by the great khan to louis, king of france: "in the name of god, the all powerful, i command you, king louis, to be obedient to me. when the will of heaven shall be accomplished--when the universe shall have recognized me as its sovereign, tranquillity will then be seen restored to earth. but if you dare to despise the decrees of god, and to say that your country is remote, your mountains inaccessible, and your seas deep and wide, and that you fear not my displeasure, then the almighty will speedily show you how terrible is my power." after the death of yaroslaf, his uncle alexander assumed the sovereignty of the grand principality. he was a prince of much military renown. bati, who was still encamped upon the banks of the volga, sent to him a message as follows: "prince of novgorod: it is well known by you that god has subjected to our sway innumerable peoples. if you wish to live in tranquillity, immediately come to me, in my tent, that you may witness the glory and the grandeur of the mogols." alexander obeyed with the promptness of a slave. bati received the prince with great condescension, but commanded him to continue his journey some hundreds of leagues further to the east, that he might pay homage to the grand khan in tartary. it was a terrible journey, beneath a blazing sun, over burning plains, whitened by the bones of those who had perished by the way. those dreary solitudes had for ages been traversed by caravans, and instead of cities and villages, and the hum of busy life, the eye met only the tombs in which the dead mouldered; and the silence of the grave oppressed the soul. in the year , alexander returned from his humiliating journey to tartary. the khan was so well satisfied with his conduct, that he appointed him king of all the realms of southern russia. the pope, now thoroughly alienated from daniel, corresponded with alexander, entreating him to bring the greek church under the supremacy of rome, and thus secure for himself the protection and the blessing of the father of all the faithful. alexander returned the peremptory reply, "we wish to follow the true doctrines of the church. as for your doctrines, we have no desire either to adopt them or to know them." alexander administered the government so much in accordance with the will of his haughty masters, that the khan gradually increased his dominion. bati, the tartar chieftain, who was encamped with his army on the banks of the volga and the don, died in the year , and his bloody sword, the only scepter of his power, passed into the hands of his brother berki. alexander felt compelled to hasten to the tartar camp, with expressions of homage to the new captain, and with rich presents to conciliate his favor. many of the tartars had by this time embraced christianity, and there were frequent intermarriages between the russian nobles and princesses of the tartar race. it is a curious fact, that even then the tartars were so conscious of the power of the clergy over the popular mind, that they employed all the arts of courtesy and bribes to secure their influence to hold the russians in subjection. the tartars exacted enormous tribute from the subjugated country. an insurrection, headed by a son of alexander, broke out at novgorod. the grand prince, terrified in view of the mogol wrath which might be expected to overwhelm him, arrested and imprisoned his son, who had countenanced the enterprise, and punished the nobles implicated in the movement with terrible severity. some were hung; others had their eyes plucked out and their noses cut off. but, unappeased by this fearful retribution, the tartars were immediately on the march to avenge, with their own hands, the crime of rebellion. their footsteps were marked with such desolation and cruelty that the russians, goaded to despair, again ventured, like the crushed worm, an impotent resistance. alexander himself was compelled to join the tartars, and aid in cutting down his wretched countrymen. the tartars haughtily entered novgorod. silence and desolation reigned through its streets. they went from house to house, extorting, as they well knew how, treasure which beggared families and ruined the city. throughout all russia the princes were compelled to break down the walls of their cities and to demolish their fortifications. in the year , alexander was alarmed by some indications of displeasure on the part of the grand khan, and he decided to take an immediate journey to the mogol capital with rich presents, there to attempt to explain away any suspicions which might be entertained. his health was feeble, and suffered much from the exposures of the journey. he was detained in the mogol court in captivity, though treated with much consideration, for a year. he then returned home, so crushed in health and spirits, that he died on the th of november, . the prince was buried at vladimir, and was borne to the grave surrounded by the tears and lamentations of his subjects. he seems to have died the death of the righteous, breathing most fervent prayers of penitence and of love. in the distressing situation in which his country was placed, he could do nothing but seek to alleviate its woe; and to this object he devoted all the energies of his life. the name of alexander nevsky is still pronounced in russia with love and admiration. his remains, after reposing in the church of notre dame, at vladimir, until the eighteenth century, were transported, by peter the great, to the banks of the neva, to give renown to the capital which that illustrious monarch was rearing there. yaroslaf, of tiver, succeeded almost immediately his father in the nominal sway of russia. the new sovereign promised fealty to the tartars, and feared no rival while sustained by their swords. his oppression becoming intolerable, the tocsin was sounded in the streets of novgorod, and the whole populace rose in insurrection. the movement was successful. the favorites and advisers of yaroslaf were put to death, and the prince himself was exiled. there is something quite refreshing in the energetic spirit with which the populace transmitted their sentence of repudiation to the discomfited prince, blockaded in his palace. the citizens met in a vast gathering in the church of st. nicholas, and sent to him the following act of accusation: "why have you seized the mansion of one of our nobles? why have you robbed others of their money? why have you driven from novgorod strangers who were living peaceably in the midst of us? why do your game-keepers exclude us from the chase, and drive us from our own fields? it is time to put an end to such violence. leave us. go where you please, but leave us, for we shall choose another prince." yaroslaf, terrified and humiliated, sent his son to the public assembly with the assurance that he was ready to conform to all their wishes, if they would return to their allegiance. "it is too late," was the reply. "leave us immediately, or we shall be exposed to the inconvenience of driving you away." yaroslaf immediately left the city and sought safety in exile. the novgorodians then offered the soiled and battered crown to dmitry, a nephew of the deposed prince. but dmitry, fearing the vengeance of the tartars, replied, "i am not willing to ascend a throne from which you have expelled my uncle." yaroslaf immediately sent an embassador to the encampment of the tartars, where they were, ever eagerly waiting for any enterprise which promised carnage and plunder. the embassador, imploring their aid, said, "the novgorodians are your enemies. they have shamefully expelled yaroslaf, and thus treated your authority with insolence. they have deposed yaroslaf, merely because he was faithful in collecting tribute for you." by such a crisis, republicanism was necessarily introduced in novgorod. the people, destitute of a prince, and threatened by an approaching army, made vigorous efforts for resistance. the two armies soon met face to face, and they were on the eve of a terrible battle, when the worthy metropolitan bishop, cyrille, interposed and succeeded in effecting a treaty which arrested the flow of torrents of blood. the novgorodians again accepted yaroslaf, he making the most solemn promises of amendment. the embassadors of the tartar khan conducted yaroslaf again to the throne. the tartars now embraced, almost simultaneously and universally, the mohammedan religion, and were inspired with the most fanatic zeal for its extension. yaroslaf retained his throne only by employing all possible means to conciliate the tartars. he died in the year , as he was also on his return journey from a visit to the tartar court. vassali, a younger brother of yaroslaf, now ascended the throne, establishing himself at vladimir. the grand duchy of lithuania, extending over a region of sixty thousand square miles, was situated just north of poland. the tartars, dissatisfied with the lithuanians, prepared an expedition against them, and marching with a great army, compelled many of the russian princes to follow their banners. the tartars spread desolation over the whole tract of country they traversed, and on their return took a careful census of the population of all the principalities of russia, that they might decide upon the tribute to be imposed. the russians were so broken in spirit that they submitted to all these indignities without a murmur. still there were to be seen here and there indications of discontent. an ecclesiastical council was held at vladimir, in the year . all the bishops of the north of russia were assembled to rectify certain abuses which had crept into the church. a copy of the canons then adopted, written upon parchment, is still preserved in the russian archives. "what a chastisement," exclaim the bishops, "have we received for our neglect of the true principles of christianity! god has scattered us over the whole surface of the globe. our cities have fallen into the hands of the enemy. our princes have perished on the field of battle. our families have been dragged into slavery. our temples have become the prey of destruction; and every day we groan more and more heavily beneath the yoke which is imposed upon us." it was decreed in this council of truly christian men, that, as a public expression of the importance of a holy life, none should be introduced into the ranks of the clergy but those whose morals had been irreproachable from their earliest infancy. "a single pastor," said the decree of this council, "faithfully devoted to his master's service, is more precious than a thousand worldly priests." vassali died in the year , and was succeeded by a prince of vladimir, named dmitri. he immediately left his native principality and took up his residence in novgorod, which city at this time seems to have been regarded as the capital of the subjugated and dishonored kingdom. the indomitable tribes inhabiting the fastnesses of the caucasian mountains had, thus far, maintained their independence. the tartars called upon russia for troops to aid in their subjugation; and four of the princes, one of whom, andré of gorodetz, was a brother of dmitri the king, submissively led the required army into the mogol encampment. andré, by his flattery, his presents and his servile devotion to the interests of the khan, secured a decree of dethronement against his brother and his own appointment as grand prince. then, with a combined army of tartars and russians, he marched upon novgorod to take possession of the crown. resistance was not to be thought of, and dmitri precipitately fled. karamsin thus describes the sweep of this tartar wave of woe: "the mogols pillaged and burned the houses, the monasteries, the churches, from which they took the images, the precious vases and the books richly bound. large troops of the inhabitants were dragged into slavery, or fell beneath the sabers of the ferocious soldiers of the khan. the young sisters in the convents were exposed to the brutality of these monsters. the unhappy laborers, who, to escape death or captivity, had fled into the deserts, perished of exposure and starvation. not an inhabitant was left who did not weep over the death of a father, a son, a brother or a friend." thus andré ascended the throne, and then returned the soldiers of the khan laden with the booty which they had so cruelly and iniquitously obtained. the barbarians, always greedy of rapine and blood, were ever delighted to find occasion to ravage the principalities of russia. the tartars, having withdrawn, dmitri secured the coöperation of some powerful princes, drove his brother from novgorod, and again grasped the scepter which his brother had wrested from him. the two brothers continued bitterly hostile to each other, and years passed of petty intrigues and with occasional scenes of violence and blood as dmitri struggled to hold the crown which andré as perseveringly strove to seize. again andré obtained another mogol army, which swept russia with fearful destruction, and, taking possession of vladimir and moscow, and every city and village on their way, plundering, burning and destroying, marched resistlessly to novgorod, and placed again the traitorous, blood-stained monster on the throne. dmitri, abandoning his palaces and his treasures, fled to a remote principality, where he soon died, in the year , an old man battered and wrecked by the storms of a life of woe. he is celebrated in the russian annals only by the disasters which accompanied his reign. according to the russian historians, the infamous andré, his elder brother being now dead, found himself _legitimately_ the sovereign of russia. as no one dared to dispute his authority, the ill-fated kingdom passed a few years in tranquillity. at length daniel, prince of moscow, claimed independence of the nominal king, or grand prince, as he was called. in fact, most of the principalities were, at this time, entirely independent of the grand prince of novgorod, whose supremacy was, in general, but an empty and powerless title. as daniel was one of the nearest neighbors of andré, and reigned over a desolate and impoverished realm, the grand prince was disposed to bring him into subjection. but neither of the princes dared to march their armies without first appealing to their mogol masters. daniel sent an embassador to the mogol camp, but andré went in person with his young and beautiful wife. the khan sent his embassador to vladimir, there to summon before him the two princes and their friends and to adjudge their cause. in the heat and bitterness of the debate, the two princes drew their swords and fell upon each other. their followers joined in the melee, and a scene of tumult and blood ensued characteristic of those barbaric times. the tartar guard rushed in and separated the combatants. the tartar judge extorted rich presents from both of the appellants and _settled_ the question by leaving it _entirely unsettled_, ordering them both to go home. they separated like two boys who have been found quarreling, and who have both been soundly whipped for their pugnacity. in the autumn of the year an assembly of the russian princes was convened at pereiaslavle, to which congress the imperious khan sent his commands. "it is my will," said the tartar chief, "that the principalities of russia should henceforth enjoy tranquillity. i therefore command all the princes to put an end to their dissensions and each one to content himself with the possessions and the power he now has." russia thus ceased to be even nominally a monarchy, unless we regard the khan of tartary as its sovereign. it was a conglomeration of principalities, ruled by princes, with irresponsible power, but all paying tribute to a foreign despot, and obliged to obey his will whenever he saw fit to make that will known. still there continued incessant tempests of civil war, violent but of brief duration, to which the khan paid no attention, he deeming it beneath his dignity to inter meddle with such petty conflicts. andré died on the th july, , execrated by his contemporaries, and he has been consigned to infamy by posterity. as he approached the spirit land he was tortured with the dread of the scenes which he might encounter there. his crimes had condemned thousands to death and other thousands to live-long woe. he sought by priestcraft, and penances, and monastic vows, and garments of sackcloth, to efface the stains of a soul crimsoned with crime. he died, and his guilty spirit passed away to meet god in judgment. chapter viii. resurrection of the russian monarchy. from to . defeat of georges and the tartars--indignation of the khan.--michel summoned to the horde.--his trial and execution.--assassination of georges.--execution of dmitri.--repulse and death of the embassador of the khan.--vengeance of the khan.--increasing prosperity of russia.--the great plague.--supremacy of simon.--anarchy in the horde.--plague and conflagration.--the tartars repulsed.--reconquest of bulgaria.--the great battle of koulikof.--utter rout of the tartars. the tartars, now fierce mohammedans, began to oppress severely, particularly in kief, the christians. the metropolitan bishop of this ancient city, with the whole body of the clergy, pursued by persecution, fled to vladimir; and others of the christians of kief were scattered over the kingdom. the death of andré was as fatal to russia as had been his reign. two rival princes, michel of tver, and georges of moscow, grasped at the shadow of a scepter which had fallen from his hands. in consequence, war and anarchy for a long time prevailed. at length, michel, having appealed to the tartars and gained their support, ascended the frail throne. but a fierce war now raged between novgorod and moscow. in the prosecution of this war, georges obtained some advantage which led michel to appeal to the khan. the prince of moscow was immediately summoned to appear in the presence of the tartar chieftain. by the most ignoble fawning and promises of plunder, georges obtained the support of the khan, and returning with a tartar horde, cruelly devastated the principality of his foe. michel and all his subjects, roused to the highest pitch of indignation, marched to meet the enemy. the two armies encountered each other a few leagues from moscow. the followers of michel, fighting with the energies of despair, were unexpectedly successful, and georges, with his russian and tartar troops, was thoroughly defeated. kavgadi, the leader of the tartar allies of georges, was taken prisoner. michel, appalled by the thought of the vengeance he might anticipate from the great khan, whose power he had thus ventured to defy, treated his captive, kavgadi, with the highest consideration, and immediately set him at liberty loaded with presents. georges, accompanied by kavgadi, repaired promptly to the court of the khan, usbeck, who was then encamped, with a numerous army, upon the shores of the caspian sea. soon an embassador of the khan arrived at vladimir, and informed michel that usbeck was exasperated against him to the highest degree. "hasten," said he, "to the court of the great khan, or within a month you will see your provinces inundated by his troops. think of your peril, when kavgadi has informed usbeck that you have dared to resist his authority." terrified by these words, the nobles of michel entreated him not to place himself in the power of the khan, but to allow some one of them to visit the _horde_, as it was then called, in his stead, and endeavor to appease the wrath of the monarch. "no," replied the high-minded prince; "usbeck demands my presence not yours. far be it from me, by my disobedience, to expose my country to ruin. if i resist the commands of the khan, my country will be doomed to new woes; thousands of christians will perish, the victims of his fury. it is impossible for us to repel the forces of the tartars. what other asylum is there then for me but death? is it not better for me to die, if i may thus save the lives of my faithful subjects?" he made his will, divided his estates among his sons, and entreating them ever to be faithful to the dictates of virtue, bade them an eternal adieu. michel encountered the khan near the mouth of the don, as it enters the sea of azof. usbeck was on a magnificent hunting excursion, accompanied by his chieftains and his army. for six weeks he did not deign, to pay any attention to the russian prince, not even condescending to order him to be guarded. the rich presents michel had brought, in token of homage, were neither received nor rejected, but were merely disregarded as of no moment whatever. at length, one morning, suddenly, as if recollecting something which had been forgotten, usbeck ordered his lords to summon michel before them and adjudge his cause. a tent was spread as a tribunal of justice, near the tent of the khan; and the unhappy prince, bound with cords, was led before his judges. he was accused of the unpardonable crime of having drawn his sword against the soldiers of the khan. no justification could be offered. michel was cruelly fettered with chains and thrown into a dungeon. an enormous collar of iron was riveted around his neck. usbeck then set out for the chase, on an expedition which was to last for one or two months. the annals of the time describe this expedition with great particularity, presenting a scene of pomp almost surpassing credence. some allowance must doubtless be made for exaggeration; and yet there is a minuteness of detail which, accompanied by corroborative evidence of the populousness and the power of these tartar tribes, invests the narrative with a good degree of authenticity. we are informed that several hundreds of thousands of men were in movement; that each soldier was clothed in rich uniform and mounted upon a beautiful horse; that merchants transported, in innumerable chariots, the most precious fabrics of greece and of the indies, and that luxury and gayety reigned throughout the immense camp, which, in the midst of savage deserts, presented the aspect of brilliant and populous cities. michel, who was awaiting his sentence from usbeck, was dragged, loaded with chains, in the train of the horde. georges was in high favor with the khan, and was importunately urging the condemnation of his rival. with wonderful fortitude the prince endured his humiliation and tortures. the nobles who had accompanied him were plunged into inconsolable grief. michel endeavored to solace them. he manifested, through the whole of this terrible trial, the spirit of the christian, passing whole nights in prayer and in chanting the psalms of david. as his hands were bound, one of his pages held the sacred book before him. his faithful followers urged him to take advantage of the confusion and tumult of the camp to effect his escape. "never," exclaimed michel, "will i degrade myself by flight. moreover, should i escape, that would save _me_ only, not my country. god's will be done." the horde was now encamped among the mountains of circassia. it was the d of november, , when, just after morning prayers, which were conducted by an abbé and two priests, who accompanied the russian prince, michel was informed that usbeck had sentenced him to death. he immediately called his young son constantin, a lad twelve years of age, into his presence, and gave his last directions to his wife and children. "say to them," enjoined this christian prince, "that i go down into the tomb cherishing for them the most ardent affection. i recommend to their care the generous nobles, the faithful servants who have manifested so much zeal for their sovereign, both when he was upon the throne and when in chains." these thoughts of home overwhelmed him, and, for a moment losing his fortitude, he burst into tears. causing the bible to be opened to the psalms of david, which, in all ages, have been the great fountain of consolation to the afflicted, he read from the fifty-sixth psalm, fifth verse, "fearfulness and trembling are come upon me, and horror hath overwhelmed me." "prince," said the abbé, "in the same psalm with which you are so familiar, are the words, 'cast thy burden upon the lord, and he shall sustain thee. he shall never suffer the righteous to be moved.'" michel simply replied by quoting again from the same inspired page: "oh that i had wings like a dove; for then would i fly away and be at rest." at that moment one of the pages entered the tent, pale and trembling, and informed that a great crowd of people were approaching. "i know why they are coming," said the prince, and he immediately sent his young son away on a message, that the child might not witness the cruel execution of his father. two brawny barbarians entered the tent. as the prince was fervently praying, they smote him down with clubs, trampled him beneath their feet, and then plunged a poignard into his heart. the crowd which had followed the executioners, according to their custom rushed into the royal tent for pillage. the gory body was left in the hands of the russian nobles. they enveloped the remains in precious clothes, and bore them with affectionate care back to moscow. georges, now confirmed in the dignity of grand prince by the khan, returned to vladimir, where he established his government, sending his brother to novgorod to reign over that principality in his name. dmitri, and others of the sons of michel, for several years waged implacable warfare against georges, with but little success. the khan, however, did not deign to interfere in a strife which caused him no trouble. but in the year georges again went to the horde on the eastern banks of the caspian. at the same time, dmitri appeared in the encampment. meeting georges accidentally, whom he justly regarded as the murderer of his father, he drew his sword, and plunged it to the hilt in the heart of the grand prince. the khan, accustomed to such deeds of violence, was not disposed to punish the son who had thus avenged the death of his father. but the friends of georges so importunately urged that to pardon such a crime would be an ineffaceable stain upon his honor, would be an indication of weakness, and would encourage the russian princes in the commission of other outrages, that after the lapse of ten months, during which time dmitri had been detained a captive, usbeck ordered his execution, and the unfortunate prince was beheaded. dmitri was then but twenty-seven years of age. and yet usbeck seems to have had some regard for the cause of the young prince, for he immediately appointed alexander, a brother of dmitri, and son of michel, to succeed georges in the grand principality. the novgorodians promptly received him as their ruler. affairs wore in this state when, at the close of the summer of , an embassador of usbeck appeared, with a band of tartars, and entered the royal city of tver, which was the residence of alexander. the principality of the tver was spread along the head waters of the volga, just north of the principality of moscow. the report spread through the city that the mogol embassador, schevkal, who was a zealous mohammedan, had come to convert the russians to mohammedanism, that he intended the death of alexander, to ascend the throne himself, and to distribute the cities of the principality to his followers. the tverians, in a paroxysm of terror and despair, rallied for the support of their prince and their religion. in a terrible tumult all the inhabitants rose and precipated themselves upon the embassador and his valiant body guard. from morning until night the battle raged in the streets of tver. the tartars, overpowered by numbers, and greatly weakened by losses during the day, took refuge in a palace. the citizens set the palace on fire, and every tartar perished, either consumed by the flames or cut down by the russians. when usbeck heard of this event, he was, at first, stupefied by the audacity of the deed. he imagined that all russia was in the conspiracy, and that there was to be a general rising to throw off the tartar yoke. still usbeck, with his characteristic sagacity, decided to employ the russians to subdue the russians. he at once deposed and outlawed alexander, and declared jean danielovitch, of moscow, to be grand prince, who promised the most obsequious obedience to his wishes. at the same time he sent an army of fifty-thousand tartars to coöperate with the russian army, which jean danielovitch was commanded to put in motion for the invasion of the principality of tver. it was in vain to think of resistance, and alexander fled. the invading army, with awful devastation, ravaged the principality. multitudes were slain. others were dragged into captivity. the smoking ruins of the cities and villages of tver became the monument of the wrath of the khan. alexander, pursued by the implacable wrath of usbeck, was finally taken and beheaded. but few particulars are known respecting the condition of southern russia at this time. the principalities were under the government of princes who were all tributary to the tartars, and yet these princes were incessantly quarreling with one another, and the whole country was the scene of violence and blood. the energies of the tartar horde were now engrossed by internal dissensions and oriental wars, and for many years, the conquerors still drawing their annual tribute from the country, but in no other way interfering with its concerns, devoted all their energies to conspiracies and bloody battles among themselves. moscow now became the capital of the country, and under the peaceful reign of jean, increased rapidly in wealth and splendor. jean, acting professedly as the agent of usbeck, extorted from many of the principalities double tribute, one half of which he furtively appropriated to the increase of the wealth, splendor and power of his own dominions. his reign was on the whole one of the most prosperous russia had enjoyed for ages. agriculture and commerce flourished. the volga was covered with boats, conveying to the caspian the furs and manufactures of the north, and laden, on their return, with the spices and fabrics of the indies. on the st of march, , jean died. as he felt the approach of death his spirit was overawed by the realities of the eternal world. laying aside his regal robes he assumed the dress of a monk, and entering a monastery, devoted his last days zealously to prayer. his end was peace. immediately after his death there were several princes who were ambitious of grasping the scepter which he had dropped, and, as usbeck alone could settle that question, there was a general rush to the horde. simeon, the eldest son of jean, and his brothers, were among the foremost who presented themselves in the tent of the all-powerful khan. simeon eloquently urged the fidelity with which his father had always served the mogol prince, and he promised, in his turn, to do every thing in his power to merit the favor of the khan. so successfully did he prosecute his suit that the khan declared him to be grand prince, and commanded all his rivals to obey him as their chief. the manners of the barbarian mogols had, for some time, been assuming a marked change. they emerged from their native wilds as fierce and untamed as wolves. the herds of cattle they drove along with them supplied them with food, and the skins of these animals supplied them with clothing and with tents. their home was wherever they happened to be encamped, but, having reached the banks of the black sea and the fertile valleys of the volga and the don, they became acquainted with the luxuries of europe and of the more civilized portions of asia. commerce enriched them. large cities were erected, embellished by the genius of grecian and italian architects. life became more desirable, and the wealthy chieftains, indulging in luxury, were less eager to encounter the exposure and perils of battle. the love of wealth now became with them a ruling passion. for gold they would grant any favors. the golden promises of simeon completely won the heart of usbeck, and the young prince returned to moscow flushed with success. he assumed such airs of superiority and of power as secured for him the title of _the superb_. he caused himself to be crowned king, with much religious pomp, in the cathedral of vladimir. novgorod manifested some resistance to his assumptions. he instantly invaded the principality, hewed down all opposition, and punished his opponents with such severity that there was a simultaneous cry for mercy. rapidly he extended his power, and the fragmentary principalities of russia began again to assume the aspect of concentration and adhesion. ere two years had elapsed, usbeck, the khan, died. this remarkable man had been, for some time, the friend and the ally of pope benoit xii., who had hoped to convert him to the christian religion. the khan had even allowed the pope to introduce christianity to the tartar territories bordering on the black sea. tchanibek, the oldest son of usbeck, upon the death of his father, assassinated his brothers, and thus attained the supreme authority. he was a zealous mohammedan, and commenced his reign by commanding all the princes of the principalities of russia to hasten to the horde and prostrate themselves, in token of homage, before his throne. the least delay would subject the offender to confiscation and death. simeon was one of the first to do homage to the new khan. he was received with great favor, and dismissed confirmed in all his privileges. in the year , one of the most desolating plagues recorded in history, commenced its ravages in china, and swept over all asia and nearly all europe. the disease is recorded in the ancient annals under the name of black death. thirteen millions of the population were, in the course of a few months, swept into the grave. entire cities were depopulated, and the dead by thousands lay unburied. the pestilence swept with terrible fury the encampments of the tartars, and weakened that despotic power beyond all recovery. but one third of the population of the principalities of pskof and of novgorod were left living. at london fifty thousand were interred in a single cemetery. the disease commenced with swellings on the fleshy parts of the body, a violent spitting of blood ensued, which was followed by death the second or third day. it is impossible, according to the ancient annalists, to imagine a spectacle so terrible. young and old, fathers and children, were buried in the same grave. entire families disappeared in a day. each curate found, every morning, thirty dead bodies, often more, in his church. greedy men at first offered their services to the dying, hoping to obtain their estates, but when it was found that the disease was communicated by touch, even the most wealthy could obtain no aid. the son fled from the father. the brother avoided the brother. still there were not a few examples of the most generous and self-sacrificing devotion. medical skill was of no avail whatever, and the churches were thronged with the multitudes who, in the midst of the dying and the dead, were crying to god for aid. multitudes in their terror bequeathed all their property to the church, and sought refuge in the monasteries. it truth, it appeared as if heaven had pronounced the sentence of immediate death upon the whole human family. five times, during his short reign, simeon was compelled to repair to the horde, to remove suspicions and appease displeasure. he at length so far ingratiated himself into favor with the khan, that the tartar sovereign conferred upon him the title of grand prince of _all the russias_. the death of simeon in the year , caused a general rush of the princes of the several principalities to the tartar horde, each emulous of being appointed his successor. tchanibek, the khan, after suitable deliberation, conferred the dignity upon jean ivanovitch of moscow. his reign of six years was disturbed by a multiplicity of intestine feuds, but no events occurred worthy of record. he died in . again the russian princes crowded to the horde, as, in every age, office seekers have thronged the court. the khan, after due deliberation, conferred the investiture of the grand principality upon dmitri of souzdal, though the appointment was received with great dissatisfaction by the other princes. but now the power of the tartars was rapidly on the decline. assassination succeeded assassination, one chieftain after another securing the assassination of his rival and with bloody hands ascending the mogol throne. the swords of the mogol warriors were turned against each other, as rival chieftains rallied their followers for attack or defense. civil war raged among these fierce bands with most terrible ferocity. famine and pestilence followed the ravages of the sword. while the horde was in this state of distraction, antagonistic khans began to court the aid of the russian princes, and a successful tartar chieftain, who had poignarded his rival, and thus attained the throne, deposed dmitri of souzdal, and declared a young prince, dmitri of moscow, to be sovereign of russia. but as the khan, whose whole energies were required to retain his disputed throne, could send no army into russia to enforce this decree, dmitri of souzdal paid but little attention to the paper edict. immediately the russian princes arrayed themselves on different sides. the conflict was short, but decisive, and the victorious prince of moscow was crowned as sovereign. the light of a resurrection morning was now dawning upon the russian monarchy. there were, fortunately, at this time, two rival khans beyond the waves of the caspian opposing each other with bloody cimeters. the energetic young prince, by fortunate marriage, and by the success of his arms, rapidly extended his authority. but again the awful plague swept russia. the annalists of those days thus describe the symptoms and the character of the malady: "one felt himself suddenly struck as by a knife plunged into the heart through the shoulder blades or between the two shoulders. an intense fire seemed to burn the entrails; blood flowed freely from the throat; a violent perspiration ensued, followed by severe chills; tumors gathered upon the neck, the hip, under the arms or behind the shoulder blades. the end was invariably the same--death, inevitable, speedy, but terrible." out of a hundred persons, frequently not more than ten would be left alive. moscow was almost depopulated. in smolensk but five individuals escaped, and they were compelled to abandon the city, the houses and the streets being encumbered with the putrefying bodies of the dead.[ ] just before this disaster, moscow suffered severely from a conflagration. the imperial palace and a large portion of the city were laid in ashes. the prince then resolved to construct a kremlin of stone, and he laid the foundations of a gorgeous palace in the year . [footnote : see histoire de l'empire de russie, par m. karamsin. traduite par mm. st. thomas et jauffret. tome cinquieme, p. .] dmitri now began to bid defiance to the tartars, doubly weakened by the sweep of the pestilence and by internal discord. there were a few minor conflicts, in which the russians were victorious, and, elated by success, they began to rally for a united effort to shake off the degrading mogol yoke. three bands of the tartars were encamped at the mouth of the dnieper. the russians descended the river in barges, assailed them with the valor which their fathers had displayed, and drove the pagans, in wild rout, to the shores of the sea of azof. the tartars, astounded at such unprecedented audacity, forgetting, for the time, their personal animosities, collected a large army, and commenced a march upon moscow. the grand prince dispatched his couriers in every direction to assemble the princes of the empire with all the soldiers they could bring into the field. again the tartars were repulsed. for many years the tartars had been in possession of bulgaria, an extensive region east of the volga. in the year , the grand prince, dmitri, fitted out an expedition for the reconquest of that country. the russian arms were signally successful. the tartars, beaten on all hands, their cities burned, their boats destroyed, were compelled to submit to the conqueror. a large sum of money was extorted from them to be distributed among the troops. they were forced to acknowledge themselves, in their turn, tributary to russia, and to accept russian magistrates for the government of their cities. encouraged by this success, the grand prince made arrangements for other exploits. a border warfare ensued, which was continued for several years with alternating success and with great ferocity. neither party spared age or sex, and cities and villages were indiscriminately committed to the flames. russia was soon alarmed by the rumor that mamai, a tartar chieftain, was approaching the frontiers of russia with one of the largest armies the mogols had ever raised. this intelligence roused the russians to the highest pitch of energy to meet their foes in a decisive battle. an immense force was soon assembled at moscow from all parts of the kingdom. after having completed all his arrangements, dmitri, with his chief captains, repaired to the church of the trinity to receive the benediction of the metropolitan bishop. "you will triumph," said the venerable ecclesiastic, "but only after terrible carnage. you will vanquish the enemy, but your laurels will be sprinkled with the blood of a vast number of christian heroes." the troops, accompanied by ecclesiastics who bore the banners of the cross, passed out at the gate of the kremlin. as the majestic host defiled from the city, the grand prince passed the hours in the church of saint michael, kneeling upon the tomb of his ancestors, fervently imploring the blessing of heaven. animated by the strength which prayer ever gives, he embraced his wife, saying, "god will be our defender," and then, mounting his horse, placed himself at the head of his army. it was a beautiful summer's day, calm, serene and cloudless, and the whole army were sanguine in the hope that god would smile upon their enterprise. marching nearly south, along the valley of the moskwa, they reached, in a few days, the large city of kolomna, a hundred miles distant, on the banks of the oka. here they were joined by several confederate princes, with their contingents of troops, swelling the army to one hundred and fifty thousand men. seventy-five thousand of these were cavalry, superbly mounted. never had russia, even in her days of greatest splendor, witnessed a more magnificent array. mamai, the tartar khan, had assembled the horde, in numbers which he deemed overwhelming, on the waters of the don. resolved not to await the irruption of the foe, on the th of august, dmitri, with his army, crossed the oka, and pressed forward towards the valley of the don. they reached this stream on the th of september. soon detachments of the advanced guards of the two armies met, and several skirmishes ensued. dmitri assembled his generals in solemn conclave, and saying to them, "the hour of god's judgment has sounded," gave minute directions for the conflict. aided by a dense fog, which concealed their operations from the view of the enemy, the army crossed the don, the cavalry fording the stream, while the infantry passed over by a hastily-constructed bridge. dmitri deployed his columns in battle array upon the vast plain of koulikof. a mound of earth was thrown up, that dmitri, upon its summit, might overlook the whole plain. as the russian prince stood upon this pyramid and contemplated his army, there was spread before him such a spectacle as mortal eyes have seldom seen. a hundred and fifty thousand men were marshaled on the plain. it was the morning of the th of september, . thousands of banners fluttered in the breeze. the polished armor of the cavaliers, cuirass, spear and helmet, glittered in the rays of the sun. seventy-five thousand steeds, gorgeously caparisoned, were neighing and prancing over the verdant savanna. the soldiers, according to their custom, shouted the prayer, which rose like the roar of many waters, "great god, grant to our sovereign the victory." the whole sublime scene moved the soul of dmitry to its profoundest depths; and as he reflected that in a few hours perhaps the greater portion of that multitude might lie dead upon the field, tears gushed from his eyes, and kneeling upon the summit of the mound, in the presence of the whole army, he extended his hands towards heaven in a fervent prayer that god would protect russia and christianity from the heel of the infidel. then, mounting his horse, he rode along the ranks, exclaiming, "my brothers dearly beloved; my faithful companions in arms: by your exploits this day you will live for ever in the memory of men; and those of you who fall will find, beyond the tomb, the crown of martyrs." the tartar host approached upon the boundless plain slowly and cautiously, but in numbers even exceeding those of the russians. notwithstanding the most earnest remonstrances of his generals, dmitri led the charge, exposing himself to every peril which the humblest soldier was called to meet. "it is not in me," said he, "to seek a place of safety while crying out to you, '_my brothers, let us die for our country!_' my actions shall correspond with my words. i am your chief. i will be your guide. i will go in advance, and, if i die, it is for you to avenge me." again ascending the mound, the king, with a loud voice, read the forty-sixth psalm: "god is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. therefore will not we fear though the earth be removed, and though the mountains be carried into the midst of the sea." the battle was immediately commenced, with ferocity on both sides which has probably never been surpassed. for three hours the two armies were blended in a hand to hand fight, spreading over a space seven miles in length. blood flowed in torrents, and the sod was covered with the slain. here the russians were victorious and the tartars fled before them. there the tartars, with frenzied shouts, chased the russians in awful rout over the plain. dmitri had stationed a strong reserve behind a forest. when both parties were utterly exhausted, suddenly this reserve emerged from their retreat and rushed upon the foe. vladimir, the brother of dmitri, led the charge. the mogols, surprised, confounded, overwhelmed and utterly routed, in the wildest confusion, and with outcries which rent the heavens, turned and fled. "the god of the christians has conquered," exclaimed the tartar chief, gnashing his teeth in despair. the tartars were hewed down by saber strokes from unexhausted arms, and trampled beneath the hoofs of the war horse. the entire camp of the horde, with immense booty of tents, chariots, horses, camels, cattle and precious commodities of every kind, fell into the hands of the captors. the valorous prince vladimir, the hero of the day, returned to the field of battle, which his cavalry had swept like a tornado, and planting his banner upon a mound, with signal trumpets, summoned the whole victorious host to rally around it. the princes, the nobles, from every part of the extended field, gathered beneath its folds. but to their consternation, the grand prince, dmitri, was missing. amidst the surgings of the battle he had disappeared, and was nowhere to be found. chapter ix dmitri, vassali, and the mogol tamerlane. from to . recovery of dmitri.--new tartar invasion.--the assault and capture of moscow.--new subjugation of the russians.--lithuania embraces christianity.--escape of vassali from the horde.--death of dmitri.--tamerlane--his origin and career.--his invasion of india.--defeat of bajazet.--tamerlane invades russia.--preparations for resistance.--sudden retreat of the tartars.--death of vassali.--accession of vassali vassilievitch.--the disputed succession.--appeal to the khan.--rebellion of youri.--cruelty of vassali.--the retribution. "where is my brother?" exclaimed vladimir; "where is he to whom we are indebted for all this glory?" no one could give any information respecting dmitri. in the tumult he had disappeared. sadly the chieftains dispersed over the plain to search for him among the dead. after a long exploration, two soldiers found him in the midst of a heap of the slain. stunned by a blow, he had fallen from his horse, and was apparently lifeless. as with filial love they hung over his remains, bathing his bloody brow, he opened his eyes. gradually he recovered consciousness; and as he saw the indications of triumph in the faces of his friends, heard the words of assurance that he had gained the victory, and witnessed the russian banners all over the field, floating above the dead bodies of the tartars, in a transport of joy he folded his hands upon his breast, closed his eyes and breathed forth a fervent, grateful prayer to god. the princes stood silently and reverently by, as their sovereign thus returned thanks to heaven. joy operated so effectually as a stimulus, that the prince, who had been stunned, but not seriously wounded, mounted his horse and rode over the hard-fought field. though thousands of the russians were silent in death, the prince could count more than four times as many dead bodies of the enemy. according to the annals of the time, a hundred thousand tartars were slain on that day. couriers were immediately dispatched to all the principalities with the joyful tidings. the anxiety had been so great, that, from the moment the army passed the don, the churches had been thronged by day and by night, and incessant prayers had ascended to heaven for its success. _no_ language can describe the enthusiasm which the glad tidings inspired. it was felt that henceforth the prosperity, the glory, the independence of russia was secured for ever; that the supremacy of the horde was annihilated; that the blood of the christians, shed upon the plain of koulikof, was the last sacrifice russia was doomed to make. but in these anticipations, russia was destined to be sadly disappointed. mamai, the discomfited tartar chieftain, overwhelmed with shame and rage, reached, with the wreck of his army, one of the great encampments of the tartars on the banks of the volga. a new khan, the world-renowned tamerlane, now swayed the scepter of tartar power. two years were devoted to immense preparations for the new invasion of russia. suddenly and unexpectedly, dmitri was informed that the tartars were approaching in strength unprecedented. russia was unprepared for the attack, and terror congealed all hearts. the invaders, crossing the volga and the oka, pressed rapidly towards moscow. dmitri, deeming it in vain to attempt the defense of the capital, fled, with his wife and children, two hundred miles north, to the fortress of kostroma. a young prince, ostei, was left in command of the city, with orders to hold it to the last extremity against the tartars, and with the assurance that the king would return, as speedily as possible, with an army from kostroma to his relief. the panic in the city was fearful, and the gates were crowded, day and night, by the women and children, the infirm and the timid seeking safety in flight. ostei made the most vigorous preparations for defense, while the king, with untiring energy, was accumulating an army of relief. the merchants and laborers from the neighboring villages, and even the monks and priests crowded to moscow, demanding arms for the defense of the metropolis. from the battlements of the city, the advance of the barbarians could be traced by the volumes of smoke which arose, as from a furnace, through the day, and by the flames which flashed along the horizon, from the burning cities and villages, through the night. on the evening of the d of august, , the tartars appeared before the gates of the city. some of the chiefs rode slowly around the ramparts, examining the ditch, the walls, the height of the towers, and selected the most favorable spot for commencing the assault. the tartars did not appear in such overwhelming numbers as report had taught the russians to expect, and they felt quite sanguine that they should be able to defend the city. but the ensuing morning dispelled all these hopes. it then appeared that these tartars were but the advance guard of the great army. with the earliest dawn, as far as the eye could reach, the inundation of warriors came rolling on, and terror vanquished all hearts. this army was under the command of a tartar chieftain called toktamonish. the assault was instantly commenced, and continued without cessation four days and nights. at length the city fell, vanquished, it is said, by stratagem rather than by force. the tartars clambering, by means of ten thousand ladders, over the walls, and rushing through the gates, with no ear for mercy, commenced the slaughter of the inhabitants. the city was set on fire in all directions, and a scene of horror ensued indescribable and unimaginable. the barbarians, laden with booty, and satiated with blood and carnage, encamped on the plain outside of the walls, exulting in the entireness of their vengeance. moscow, the gorgeous capital, was no more. the dwellings of the city became but the funeral pyre for the bodies of the inhabitants. the tartars, intoxicated with blood, dispersed over the whole principality; and all its populous cities, vladimir, zvenigorod, yourief, mojaisk and dmitrof, experienced the same fate with that of moscow. the khan then retired, crossing the oka at kolomna. dmitri arrived with his army at moscow, only to behold the ruins. the enemy had already disappeared. in profoundest affliction, he gave orders for the interment of the charred and blackened bodies of the dead. eighty thousand, by count, were interred, which number did not include the many who had been consumed entirely by the conflagration. the walls of the city and the towers of the kremlin still remained. with great energy, the prince devoted himself to the rebuilding and the repeopling of the capital; many years, however, passed away ere it regained even the shadow of its former splendor. thus again russia, brought under the sway of the tartars, was compelled to pay tribute, and dmitri was forced to send his own son to the horde, where he was long detained as a hostage. the grand duchy of lithuania, bordering on poland, was spread over a region of sixty thousand square miles. the grand duke, jaghellon, a burly pagan, had married hedwige, queen of poland, promising, as one of the conditions of this marriage which would unite lithuania and poland, to embrace christianity.[ ] he was married and baptized at cracow, receiving the christian name of ladislaus. he then ordered the adoption of christianity throughout lithuania, and the universal baptism of his subjects. in order to facilitate the baptism of over a million at once, the inhabitants were collected at several central points. they were arranged in vast groups, and were sprinkled with water which had been blessed by the priests. as the formula of baptism was pronounced, to one entire group the name of peter was given, to another the name of paul, to another that of john. these converts were received, not into the greek church, which was dominant-in russia, but to the romish church, which prevailed in poland. jaghellon became immediately the inveterate foe of the russians, whom he called heretics, for new proselytes are almost invariably inspired with fanatic zeal, and he forbade the marriage of any of his catholic subjects with members of the russian church. this event caused great grief to dmitri, for he had relied upon the coöperation of the warlike lithuanians to aid him to repel the mogols. [footnote : for an account of the romantic circumstances attending this marriage, see _empire of austria_, pp. and .] affairs were in this condition when vassali, the son of dmitri, escaped from the horde after a three years' captivity, and, traversing poland and lithuania, arrived safely at moscow. dmitri was now forty years of age. he was a man of colossal stature, and of vigorous health. his hair and beard were black as the raven's wing, and his ruddy cheek and piercing eye seemed to give promise of a long life. but suddenly he was seized with a fatal disease, and it was soon evident that death was near. the intellect of the dying prince was unclouded, and, with much fortitude, in a long interview, he bade adieu to his wife and his children. he designated his son vassali, then but seventeen years of age, as his successor, and then, after offering a touching prayer, folded his hands across his breast, in the form of a cross, and died without a struggle. the grief of the russians was profound and universal. for ages they had not known a prince so illustrious or so devoted to the welfare of his country. the young vassali had been but a few years on the throne when tamerlane himself advanced with countless hordes from the far orient, crushing down all opposition, and sweeping over prostrate nations like the pestilence which had preceded him, and whose track he followed. tamerlane was the son of a petty mogol prince. he was born in a season of anarchy, and when the whole tartar horde was distracted with civil dissensions. the impetuous young man had hardly begun to think, ere he had formed the resolve to attain the supremacy over all the mogol tribes, to conquer the whole known world, and thus to render himself immortal in the annals of glory. behind a curtain of mountains, and protected by vast deserts, his persuasive genius collected a large band of followers, who with enthusiasm adopted his views and hailed him their chief. after inuring them to fatigue, and drilling them thoroughly in the exercises of battle, he commenced his career. the most signal victory followed his steps, and he soon acquired the title of hero. ambitious, war-loving, thousands crowded to his standards, and he had but just attained the age of thirty-five when he was the undisputed monarch of all the mogol tribes, and the whole asiatic world trembled at the mention of his name. he took his seat proudly upon the throne of genghis khan, a crown of gold was placed upon his brow, a royal girdle encircled his waist, and in accordance with oriental usage his robes glittered with jewels and gold. at his feet were his renowned chieftains, kneeling around his throne in homage. tamerlane then took an oath, that by his future exploits he would justify the title he had already acquired, and that all the kings of the earth should yet lie prostrate before him. and now commenced an incessant series of wars, and victory ever crowned the banners of tamerlane. he was soon in possession of all the countries on the eastern shores of the caspian sea. he then entered persia, and conquered the whole realm between the oxus and the tigris. bagdad, until now the proud capital of the caliphs, submitted to his sway. soon the whole region of asia, from the sea of aral to the persian gulf, and from teflis to the great arabian desert, recognized the empire of tamerlane. the conqueror then assembled his companions in arms, and thus addressed them: "friends and fellow-soldiers; fortune, who recognizes me as her child, invites us to new conquests. the universe trembles at my name, and the movement even of one of my fingers causes the earth to quake. the realms of india are open to us. woe to those who oppose my will. i will annihilate them unless they acknowledge me as their lord." with flying banners and pealing trumpets he crossed the indus, and marched upon delhi, which for three centuries had been governed by the mohammedan sultans. _no_ opposition could retard the sweep of his locust legions; and the renowned city at once passed into his hands. indulging in no delay, the order was still _onwards_, and the hosts soon bathed their dusty limbs in the waves of the ganges. here he was informed that bajazet, the grand seignior of turkey, was on a career of conquest which rivaled his own; that he had overrun all of asia minor; that, crossing the hellespont, he had subjugated serbia, macedonia, thessaly, and that he was even besieging the imperial city of constantine. the jealousy of tamerlane was thoroughly aroused. he instantly turned upon his steps to seek this foe, worthy of his arms, dispatching to him the following defiant message: "learn," wrote tamerlane to bajazet, "that the earth is covered with my warriors from sea-to sea. kings compose my body guard, and range themselves as servants before my tent. are you ignorant that the destiny of the universe is in my hands? who are you? a turkoman ant. and dare you raise your head against an elephant? if in the forests of natolia you have obtained some trivial successes; if the timid europeans have fled like cowards before you, return thanks to mohammed for your success, for it is not owing to your own valor. listen to the counsels of wisdom. be content with the heritage of your fathers, and, however small that heritage may be, beware how you attempt, in the slightest degree, to extend its limits, lest death be the penalty of your temerity." to this insolent letter, bajazet responded in terms equally defiant. "for a long time," he wrote, "bajazet has burned with the desire to measure himself with tamerlane, and he returns thanks to the all-powerful that tamerlane now comes himself, to present his head to the cimeter of bajazet." the two conquerors gathered all their resources for the great and decisive battle. tamerlane speedily reached aleppo, which city, after a bloody conflict, he entered in triumph. the tartar chieftain was an impostor and a hypocrite, as well as a merciless butcher of his fellow-men. he assembled the learned men of aleppo, and assured them in most eloquent terms that he was the devoted friend of god, and that the enemies who resisted his will were responsible to god for all the evils their obstinacy rendered it necessary for him to inflict. before every conflict he fell upon his knees in the presence of the army in prayer. after every victory, he assembled his troops to return thanks to god. there are some sad accounts to be settled at the judgment day. in marching from aleppo to damascus, tamerlane visited ostentatiously the pretended tomb of noah, that upon the shrine of that patriarch, so profoundly venerated by the mohammedans, he might display his devotion. damascus was pillaged of all its treasures, which had been accumulating for ages, and was then laid in ashes. the two armies, headed by their respective chieftains, met in galacia, near ancyra. it was the th of june, . the storm of war raged for a few hours, and the army of bajazet was cut to pieces by superior numbers, and he himself was taken captive. tamerlane treated his prisoner with the most condescending kindness, seated him by his side upon the imperial couch, and endeavored to solace him by philosophical disquisitions upon the mutability of all human affairs. the annals of the day do not sustain the rumor that bajazet was confined in an iron cage. the empire of tamerlane now extended from the caspian and the mediterranean to the nile and the ganges. he established his capital at samarcand, some six hundred miles east of the caspian sea. to this central capital he returned after each of his expeditions, devoting immense treasures to the erection of mosques, the construction of gardens, the excavation of canals and the erection of cities. and now, in the pride and plenitude of his power, he commenced his march upon russia. his army, four hundred thousand strong, defiled from the gates of samarcand, and marching to the north, between the aral and the caspian seas, traversed vast plains, where thousands of wild cattle had long enjoyed undisturbed pasturage. these cattle afforded them abundant food. the chase, in which they engaged on a magnificent scale, offered a very brilliant spectacle. thousands of horsemen spread out in an immense circle, making the tent of the emperor the central point. with trumpet blasts, the clash of arms and clouds of javelins and arrows, the cattle and wild beasts of every kind were driven in upon the imperial tent, where tamerlane and his lords amused themselves with their destruction. the soldiers gathered around the food thus abundantly supplied, innumerable fires were built, and feasting and mirth closed the day. vast herds of cattle were driven along for the ordinary supply of the troops, affording all the nourishment which those rude barbarians required. pressing forward, in a long march, which occupied several months, tamerlane crossed the volga, and entered the south-eastern principalities of russia. the tidings of the invasion spread rapidly, and all russia was paralyzed with terror. the grand prince, vassali, however, strove with all his energies to rouse the russians to resistance. an army was speedily collected, and veteran leaders placed in command. the russian troops were rapidly concentrated near kolomna, on the banks of the oka, to dispute the passage of the river. all the churches of moscow and of russia were thronged with the terrified inhabitants imploring divine aid, the clergy conducting the devotions by day and by night. tamerlane, crossing from the volga to the don, ascended the valley of the latter stream, spreading the most cruel devastation everywhere around him. it was his design to confound his enemies with terror. he was pressing on resistlessly towards moscow, and had arrived within a few days' march of the russian army on the banks of the oka, when suddenly he stopped, and remained fifteen days without moving from his encampment. then, for some cause, which history has never satisfactory explained, he turned, retraced his steps, and his banners soon disappeared beyond the frontiers of the empire. it was early in september when he commenced this retrograde march. some have surmised that he feared the russians, strongly posted on the banks of the oka, others that he dreaded the approaching russian winter; others that intelligence of some conspiracy in his distant realms arrested his steps, and others that god, in answer to prayer, directly interposed, and rescued russia from ruin. the joy of the russians was almost delirious; and no one thought even of pursuing a foe, who without arriving within sight of the banners of the grand prince, or without hearing the sound of his war trumpets, had fled as in a panic. the whole of the remaining reign of vassali was a scene of tumult and strife. civil war agitated the principalities. the lithuanians, united with poland, were incessant in their endeavors to extend the triumph of their arms over the russian provinces; and the tartar hordes again swept russia with the most horrible devastation. in the midst of calamities and lamentations, vassali approached his grave. he died on the th of february, , in the fifty-third year of his age, and the thirty-sixth of his reign. vassali vassalievitch, son of the deceased monarch, was but ten years of age when the scepter of russia passed into his hands. youri, the eldest brother of the late king, demanded the throne in accordance with the ancient custom of descent, and denied the right of his brother to bequeath the crown to his son. after much trouble, both of the rival claimants consented to submit the question to the decision of the tartar khan, to whom it appears that russia still paid tribute. vassali was to remain upon the throne until the question was decided. six years passed away, and yet no answer to the appeal had been obtained from the khan. at length both agreed to visit the horde in person. it was a perilous movement, and vassali, as yet but a boy sixteen years of age, wept bitterly as he left the church, where he had implored the prayers of the faithful, and set out upon his journey. all the powers of bribery and intrigue were employed by each party to obtain a favorable verdict. a tribunal was appointed to adjudge the cause, over which machmet, the khan, presided. vassali claimed the dominion, on the ground of the new rule of descent adopted by the russian princes. youri pleaded the ancient custom of the empire. the power which the tartar horde still exercised, may be inferred from the humiliating speech which jean, a noble of moscow, made on this occasion, in advocacy of the cause of the young vassali. approaching machmet, and bowing profoundly before him, he said, "sovereign king, your humble slave conjures you to permit him to speak in behalf of his young prince. youri founds his claim upon the ancient institutions of russia. vassali appeals only to your generous protection, for he knows that russia is but one of the provinces of your vast domains. you, as its sovereign, can dispose of the throne according to your pleasure. condescend to reflect that the uncle _demands_, the nephew _supplicates_. what signify ancient or modern customs when all depends upon your royal will? is it not that august will which has confirmed the testament of vassali dmitrievitch, by which his son was nominated as heir of the principality of moscow? for six years, vassali vassilievitch has been upon the throne. would you have allowed him thus to remain there had you not recognized him as the legitimate prince?" this base flattery accomplished its object. vassali was pronounced grand prince, and, in accordance with tartar custom, the uncle was compelled to hold the bridle while his successful rival, at the door of the tent, mounted his horse. on their return to moscow, vassali was crowned, with great pomp, in the church of notre dame. youri, while at the horde, dared not manifest the slightest opposition to the decision, but, having returned to his own country, he murmured loudly, rallied his friends, excited disaffection, and soon kindled the flames of civil war. youri soon marched, with an army, upon moscow, took the city by storm, and vassali, who had displayed but little energy of character, was made captive. youri proclaimed himself grand prince, and vassali in vain endeavored to move the compassion of his captor by tears. the uncle, however, so far had pity for his vanquished nephew as to appoint him to the governorship of the city of kolomna. this seemed perfectly to satisfy the pusillanimous young man, and, after partaking of a splendid feast with his uncle, he departed, rejoicing, from the capital where he had been enthroned, to the provincial city assigned to him. a curious result ensued. youri brought to moscow his own friends, who were placed in the posts of honor and authority. such general discontent was excited, that the citizens, in crowds, abandoned moscow and repaired to kolomna, and rallied, with the utmost enthusiasm, around their ejected sovereign. the dwellings and the streets of moscow became silent and deserted. kolomna, on the contrary, was thronged. to use the expression of a russian annalist, the people gathered around their prince as bees cluster around their queen. the tidings of the life, activity and thriving business to be found at kolomna, lured ever-increasing numbers, and, in a few months, grass was growing in the streets of moscow, while kolomna had become the thronged metropolis of the principality. the nobles, with their armies, gathered around vassali, and youri was so thoroughly abandoned, that, convinced of the impossibility of maintaining his position, he sent word to his nephew that he yielded to him the capital, and immediately left for his native principality of galitch. the journey of vassali, from kolomna to moscow, a distance of two hundred miles, was a brilliant triumph. an immense crowd accompanied the grand prince the whole distance, raising incessant shouts of joy. but youri was by no means prepared to relinquish his claim, and soon the armies of the two rivals were struggling upon the field of battle. while the conflict was raging, youri suddenly died at the age of sixty years. one of the sons of youri made an attempt to regain the throne which his father had lost, but he failed in the attempt, and was taken captive. vassali, as cruel as he was pusillanimous, in vengeance, plucked out the eyes of his cousin. vassali, now seated peacefully upon his throne, exerted himself to keep on friendly relations with the horde, by being prompt in the payment of the tribute which they exacted. in june, , the tartars, having taken some offense, again invaded russia. vassali had no force of character to resist them. under his weak reign the grand principality had lost all its vigor. the tartars surprised the russian army near moscow, and overwhelming them with numbers, two to one, trampled them beneath their horses. vassali fought fiercely, as sometimes even the most timid will fight when hedged in by despair. an arrow pierced his hand; a saber stroke cut off several of his fingers; a javelin pierced his shoulder; thirteen wounds covered his head and breast, when by the blow of a battle-ax he was struck to the ground and taken prisoner. the tartars, elated with their signal victory, and fearful that all russia might rise for the rescue of its prince, retreated rapidly, carrying with them their captive and immense booty. as they retired they plundered and burned every city and village on their way. after a captivity of three months the prince was released, upon paying a moderate ransom, and returned to moscow. still new sorrows awaited the prince. he was doomed to experience that, even in this world, providence often rewards a man according to his deeds. the brothers of the prince, whose eyes vassali had caused to be plucked out, formed a conspiracy against him; and they were encouraged in this conspiracy by the detestation with which the grand prince was now generally regarded. during the night of the th of february, , the conspirators entered the kremlin. vassali, who attempted to compensate for his neglect of true religion by punctilious and ostentatious observance of ecclesiastical rites, was in the church of the trinity attending a midnight mass. silently the conspirators surrounded the church with their troops. vassali was prostrate upon the tomb of a russian saint, apparently absorbed in devotion. soon the alarm was given, and the prince, in a paroxysm of terror, threw himself upon his knees, and for once, at least, in his life, prayed with sincerity and fervor. his pathetic cries to god for help caused many of the nobles around him to weep. the prince was immediately seized, no opposition being offered, and was confined in one of the palaces of moscow. four nights after his capture, some agents of the conspirators entered his apartment and tore out his eyes, as he had torn out the eyes of his cousin. he was then sent, with his wife, to a castle in a distant city, and his children were immured in a convent. dmitri chemyaka, the prime mover of this conspiracy, now assumed the reins of government. gradually the grand principality had lost its power over the other principalities of the empire, and russia was again, virtually, a conglomeration of independent states. public opinion now turned so sternly against chemyaka, and such bitter murmurs rose around his throne for the cruelty he had practiced upon vassali, that he felt constrained to liberate the prince, and to assign him a residence of splendor upon the shores of lake kouben. chemyaka, thus constrained to set the body of his captive free, wished to enchain his soul by the most solemn oaths. with all his court he visited vassali. the blinded prince, with characteristic duplicity, expressed heartfelt penitence in view of his past course, and took the most solemn oaths never to attempt to disturb the reign of his conqueror. vassali received the city of vologda in appanage, to which he retired, with his family, and with the nobles and bishops who still adhered to him. but a few months had passed ere he, with his friends, had enlisted the coöperation of many princes, and especially of the tartar horde, and was on the march with a strong army to drive chemyaka from moscow. chemyaka, utterly discomfited, fled, and moscow fell easily into the hands of vassali the blind. anguish of body and of soul seems now to have changed the nature of vassali, and with energy, disinterestedness and wisdom undeveloped before, he consecrated himself to the welfare of his country. he associated with himself his young son ivan, who subsequently attained the title of the great. "but chemyaka," writes karamsin, "still lived, and his heart, ferocious, implacable, sought new means of vengeance. his death seemed necessary for the safety of the state, and some one gave him poison, of which he died the next day. the author, of an action so contrary to religion, to the principles of morality and of honor, remains unknown. a lawyer, named beda, who conveyed the news of his death to moscow, was elevated to the rank of secretary by the grand prince, who exhibited on that occasion an indiscreet joy." on the th of march, , vassali terminated his eventful and tumultuous life, at the age of forty-seven. his reign was during one of the darkest periods in the russian annals. life to him, and to his cotemporaries, was but a pitiless tempest, through which hardly one ray of sunshine penetrated. it was under his reign that the horrible punishment of the _knout_ was introduced into moscow, a barbaric mode of scourging unknown to the ancient russians. fire-arms were also beginning to be introduced, which weapons have diminished rather than increased the carnage of fields of battle. chapter x. the illustrious ivan iii. from to . ivan iii.--his precocity and rising power.--the three great hordes.--russian expedition against kezan.--defeat of the tartars.--capture of constantinople by the turks.--the princess sophia.--her journey to russia, and marriage with ivan iii.--increasing renown of russia.--new difficulty with the horde.--the tartars invade russia.--strife on the banks of the oka.--letter of the metropolitan bishop.--unprecedented panic.--liberation of russia. in the middle of the fifteenth century, constantinople was to russia what paris, in the reign of louis xiv., was to modern europe. the imperial city of constantine was the central point of ecclesiastical magnificence, of courtly splendor, of taste, of all intellectual culture.[ ] to the greeks the russians were indebted for their religion, their civilization and their social culture. [footnote : karamsin, vol. ix., p. .] ivan iii., who had for some time been associated with his father in the government, was now recognized as the undisputed prince of the grand principality, though his sway over the other provinces of russia was very feeble, and very obscurely defined. at twelve years of age, ivan was married to maria, a princess of tver. at eighteen years of age he was the father of a son, to whom he gave his own name. when he had attained the age of twenty-two years, his father died, and the reins of government passed entirely into his hands. from his earliest years, he gave indications of a character of much more than ordinary judgment and maturity. upon his accession to the throne, he not only declined making any appeal to the khan for the ratification of his authority, but refused to pay the tribute which the horde had so long extorted. the result was, that the tartars were speedily rallying their forces, with vows of vengeance. but on the march, fortunately for russia, they fell into a dispute among themselves, and exhausted their energies in mutual slaughter. according to the greek chronology, the world was then approaching the end of the seven thousandth year since the creation, and the impression was universal that the end of the world was at hand. it is worthy of remark that this conviction seemed rather to increase recklessness and crime than to be promotive of virtue. bat the years glided on, and gradually the impression faded away. ivan, with extraordinary energy and sagacity, devoted himself to the consolidation of the russian empire, and the development of all its sources of wealth. the refractory princes he assailed one by one, and, favored by a peculiar combination of circumstances, succeeded in chastising them into obedience. the great mogol power was essentially concentrated in three immense hordes. all these three combined when there was a work of national importance to be achieved. the largest of the hordes, and the most eastern, spread over a region of undefined extent, some hundreds of miles east of the caspian sea. the most western occupied a large territory upon the volga and the kama, called kezan. from this, their encampment, where they had already erected many flourishing cities, enriched by commerce with india and greece, they were continually ravaging the frontiers of russia, often penetrating the country three or four hundred miles, laying the largest cities in ashes, and then retiring laden with plunder and prisoners. this encampment of the horde was but five hundred miles east of moscow; but much of the country directly intervening was an uninhabited waste, so great was the terror which the barbarians inspired. ivan resolved to take kezan from the horde. it was the boldest resolve which any russian prince had conceived for ages. all the mechanics in the great cities which lined the banks of the upper volga and the oka, were employed in constructing barges, which were armed with the most approved instruments of war. the enthusiasm of russia was roused to the highest pitch by this naval expedition, which presented a spectacle as novel as it was magnificent and exciting. war has its pageantry as well as its woe. the two flotillas, with fluttering pennants and resounding music, and crowded with gayly-dressed and sanguine warriors, floated down the streams until they met, at the confluence of these rivers, near nizni novgorod. here the two fleets, covering the volga for many leagues, were united. spreading their sails, they passed rapidly down the river about two hundred miles, until they arrived at kezan, the capital of the horde. deeming their enterprise a religious one, in which the cross of christ was to be planted against the banners of the infidel, they all partook of the sacrament of the lord's supper, and engaged in the most earnest exercises of devotion the evening before they reached their place of landing. in those days intelligence was only transmitted by means of couriers, at vast expense, and either accompanied by an army or by a strong body guard. the mogols had no suspicion of the tempest which was about to break over their heads. on the st of may, , before the dawn of the morning, the russians leaped upon the shore near kezan, the capital, and with trumpet blasts and appalling cries, rushed upon the sleeping inhabitants. without resistance they penetrated the streets. the russians, in war, were as barbaric as the tartars. the city was set on fire; indiscriminate slaughter ensued, and awful vengeance was taken for the woes which the horde had for ages inflicted upon russia. but few escaped. those who fell not by the sword perished in the flames. many russian prisoners were found in the city who had been in slavery for years. thus far, success, exceeding the most sanguine anticipations, had accompanied the enterprise. the victorious russians, burdened with the plunder of the city, reembarked, and, descending the river some distance, landed upon an island which presented every attraction for a party of pleasure, and there they passed a week in rest, in feasting and in all festive joys. ibrahim, prince of the horde, escaped the general carnage, and, in a few days, rallied such a force of cavalry as to make a fierce assault upon the invaders. the strife continued, from morning until night, without any decisive results, when both parties were glad to seek repose, with the volga flowing between them. the next morning neither were willing to renew the combat. ibrahim soon had a flotilla upon the volga nearly equal to that of the russians. the war now raged, embittered by every passion which can goad the soul of man to madness. one of the russian princes, a man of astonishing nerve and agility, in one of these conflicts sprang into a tartar boat, smiting, with his war club, upon the right hand and the left, and, leaping from boat to boat of the foe, warded off every blow, striking down multitudes, until he finally returned, in safety, to his own flotilla, cheered by the huzzas of his troops. the mogols were punished, not subdued; but this punishment, so unexpected and severe, was quite a new experience for them. the russian troops, elated with their success, returned to nizni novgorod. in the autumn, ivan iii. sent another army, under the command of his two brothers, youri and andré, to coöperate with the troops in nizni novgorod in a new expedition. this army left moscow in two divisions, one of which marched across the country, and the other descended the volga in barges. ibrahim had made every effort in his power to prepare to repel the invasion. a decisive battle was fought. the mogols, completely vanquished, were compelled to accept such terms as the conqueror condescended to grant. this victory attracted the attention of europe, and the great monarchies of the southern portion of the continent began to regard russia as an infant power which might yet rise to importance. another event at this time occurred which brought russia still more prominently into the view of the nations of the south. in the year , the grand prince, with tears of anguish, buried his young and beautiful spouse. five years of widowhood had passed away. the turks had overrun asia minor, and, crossing the hellespont under mohammed ii., with bloody cimeter had taken constantinople by storm, cutting down sixty thousand of its inhabitants, and bringing all greece under the turkish sway. the mohammedan placed his heel upon the head of the christian, and constantinople became the capital of moslem power. this was in the year . constantin paleologue was the last of the grecian emperors. one of his brothers, thomas, escaping from the ruins of his country, fled to rome, where, in consideration of his illustrious rank and lineage, he received a large monthly stipend from the pope. thomas had a daughter, sophia, a princess of rare beauty, and richly endowed with all mental graces and attractions. the pope sought a spouse worthy of this princess, who was the descendant of a long line of emperors. mohammed ii., having overrun all greece, flushed with victory, was collecting his forces for the invasion of the italian peninsula, and his vaunt, _that he would feed his horse from the altar of st. peters_, had thrilled the ear of catholic europe. the pope, paul ii., anxious to rouse all the christian powers against the turks, wished to make the marriage of the grecian princess promotive of his political views. her beauty, her genius and her exalted birth rendered her a rare prize. rumors had reached rome of the vast population and extraordinary wealth of russia; nearly all the great russian rivers emptied into the black sea, and along these channels the russian flotillas could easily descend upon the conquerors of constantinople; russia was united with greece by the ties of the same religion, and the recent victory over the tartars had given the grand prince great renown. these considerations influenced the pope to send an embassador to moscow, proposing to ivan iii. the hand of sophia. to increase the apparent value of the offer, the embassador was authorized to state that the princess had refused the hand of the king of france, and also of the duke of milan, she being unwilling, as a member of the greek church, to ally herself with a prince of the latin religion. nothing could have been more attractive to ivan iii., and his nobles, than this alliance. "god himself," exclaimed a bishop, "must have conferred the gift. she is a shoot from an imperial tree which formerly overspread all orthodox christians. this alliance will make moscow another constantinople, and will confer upon our sovereign the rights of the grecian emperors." the grand prince, not deeming it decorous to appear too eager, and yet solicitous lest he might lose the prize, sent an embassador, with a numerous suite, to rome, with a letter to the pope, and to report more particularly respecting the princess, not forgetting to bring him her portrait. this embassage was speedily followed by another, authorized to complete the arrangements. the embassadors were received with signal honors by sextus iv., who had just succeeded paul ii., and at length it was solemnly announced, in a full conclave of cardinals, on the d of may, , that the russian prince wished to espouse sophia. some of the cardinals objected to the orthodoxy of ivan iii.; but the pope replied that it was by condescension and kindness alone that they could hope to open the eyes of one spiritually blind; a sentiment which it is to be regretted that the court of rome and also all other communions have too often ignored. on the st of june the princess was sacredly affianced in the church of st. peter's to the prince of moscow, the embassadors of ivan iii. assuring the pope of the zeal of their monarch for the happy reunion of the greek and latin churches. the pope conferred a very rich dowry upon sophia, and sent his legate to accompany her to russia, attended by a splendid suite of the most illustrious romans. the affianced princess had a special court of her own, with its functionaries of every grade, and its established etiquette. a large number of greeks followed her to moscow, hoping to find in that distant capital a second country. directions were given by the pope that, in every city through which she should pass, the princess should receive the honors due to her rank, and that, especially throughout italy and germany, she should be furnished with entertainment, relays of horses and guides, until she should arrive at the frontiers of russia. sophia left rome on the th of august, and after a rapid journey of six days, arrived, on the st of september, at lubec, on the extreme southern shore of the baltic. here she remained ten days, and on the th of september embarked in a ship expressly and gorgeously equipped for her accommodation. a sail of eight hundred miles along the baltic sea, which occupied twenty days, conveyed the princess to revel, near the mouth of the gulf of finland. arriving at this city on the th of september, she remained there for rest, ten days, during which time she was regaled with the utmost magnificence by the authorities of the place. couriers had been immediately dispatched, by the way of novgorod, to moscow, to inform the prince of her arrival. her journey from revel to lake tchoude presented but a continued triumphal show. on the th of october she reached the shores of the lake. a flotilla of barges, decorated with garlands and pennants, here awaited her. a pleasant sail of two days conveyed her across the lake. immediately upon landing at pskov, she repaired, with all her retinue, to the church of notre dame, to give thanks to heaven for the prosperity which had thus far attended her journey. from the church she was conducted to the palace of the prince of that province, where she received from the nobles many precious gifts. after a five days' sojourn at pskov, she left the city to continue her journey. upon taking her departure, she aroused the enthusiasm of the citizens by the following words: "i must hasten to present myself before your prince who is soon to be mine. i thank the magistrates, the nobles and the citizens generally for the reception which they have given me, and i promise never to neglect to plead the cause of pskov at the court of moscow." at novgorod she was again entertained with all the splendor which russian opulence and art could display. the russian winter had already commenced, and the princess entered moscow, in a sledge, on the th of november. an innumerable crowd accompanied her. she was welcomed at the gates of the city by the metropolitan bishop, who conducted her to the church, where she received his benediction. she was then presented to the mother of the grand prince, who introduced her to her future spouse. immediately the marriage ceremony was performed with the most imposing pomp of the greek church. this marriage contributed much in making russia better known throughout europe. in that age, far more than now, exalted birth was esteemed the greatest of earthly honors; and sophia, the daughter of a long line of emperors, was followed by the eyes of every court in europe to her distant destination. moreover, many greeks, of high aesthetic and intellectual culture, exiled from their country by the domination of the turk, followed their princess to russia. they, by their knowledge of the arts and sciences, rendered essential service to their adopted kingdom, which was just emerging from barbarism. they enriched the libraries by the books which they had rescued from the barbarism of the turks, and contributed much to the eclat of the court of moscow by the introduction of the pompous ceremonies of the grecian court. indeed, from this date moscow was often called a second constantinople. the capital was rapidly embellished with palaces and churches, constructed in the highest style of grecian and italian architecture. from italy, also, mechanics were introduced, who established foundries for casting cannon, and mints for the coinage of money. the prominent object in the mind of ivan iii. was the consolidation of all the ancient principalities into one great empire, being firmly resolved to justify the title which he had assumed, of _sovereign of all the russias_. he wished to give new vigor to the monarchical power, to abolish the ancient system of almost independent appanages which was leading to incessant wars, and to wrest from the princes those prerogatives which limited the authority of the sovereign. this was a formidable undertaking, requiring great sagacity and firmness, but it would doubtless be promotive of the welfare of russia to be under the sway of one general sovereign, rather than to be exposed to the despotism of a hundred petty and quarrelsome princes. ivan iii. was anxious to accomplish this result without violating any treaty, without committing any arbitrary or violent act which could rouse opposition. that he might triumph over the princes, it was necessary for him to secure the affections of the people. the palace was consequently rendered easy of access to them all. appointed days were consecrated to justice, and, from morning until evening, the grand prince listened to any complaints from his subjects. the old magistrates had generally forfeited all claim to esteem. regarding only their own interests, they trafficked in offices, favored their relatives, persecuted their enemies and surrounded themselves with crowds of parasites who stifled, in the courts of justice, all the complaints of the oppressed. novgorod was first brought into entire subjection to the crown; then pskov. while affairs were moving thus prosperously in russia, the horde upon the volga was also recovering its energies; and a new khan, akhmet, war-loving and inflated by the success which his sword had already achieved, resolved to bring russia again into subjection. he accordingly, in the year , sent an embassy, bearing an image of the khan as their credentials, to moscow, to demand the tribute which of old had been paid to the tartars. ivan iii. was in no mood to receive the insult patiently. he admitted the embassage into the audience chamber of his palace. his nobles, in imposing array, were gathered around prepared for a scene such as was not unusual in those barbaric times. as soon as the embassadors entered and were presented, the image of the khan was dashed to the floor by the order of ivan, and trampled under feet; and all the mogol embassadors, with the exception of one, were slain. "go," said ivan sternly to him, "go to your master and tell him what you have seen; tell him that if he has the insolence again to trouble my repose, i will treat him as i have served his image and his embassadors." this emphatic declaration of war was followed on both sides by the mustering of armies. the horde was soon in motion, passing from the volga to the don in numbers which were represented to be as the sands of the sea. they rapidly and resistlessly ascended the valley of this river, marking their path by a swath of ruin many miles in width. the grand prince took the command of the russian army in person, and rendezvoused his troops at kalouga, thence stationing them along the northern banks of the oka, to dispute the passage of that stream. all russia was in a state of feverish excitement. one decisive battle would settle the question, whether the invaders were to be driven in bloody rout out of the empire, or, whether the whole kingdom was to be surrendered to devastation by savages as fierce and merciless as wolves. about the middle of october the two armies met upon the opposite banks of the oka, with only the waters of that narrow stream to separate them. cannon and muskets were then just coming into use, but they were rude and feeble instruments compared with the power of such weapons at the present day. swords, arrows, javelins, clubs, axes, battering-rams and catapults, and the tramplings of horse were the engines of destruction which man then wielded most potently against his fellow-man. the quarrel was a very simple one. some hundreds of thousands of mogols had marched to the heart of russia, leaving behind them a path of flame and blood nearly a thousand miles in length, that they might compel the russians to pay them tribute. some hundred thousand russians had met them there, to resist even to death their insolent and oppressive demand. the tartars were far superior in numbers to the russians, but ivan had made such a skillful disposition of his troops that akhmet could not cross the stream. for nearly a week the two armies fought from the opposite banks, throwing at each other bullets, balls, stones, arrows and javelins. a few were wounded and some slain in this impotent warfare. the russians were, however, very faint-hearted. it was evident that, should the tartars effect the passage of the river, the russians, already demoralized by fear, would be speedily overpowered. the grand prince himself was so apprehensive as to the result, that he sent one of his nobles with rich presents to the khan and proposed terms of peace. akhmet rejected the presents, and sent back the haughty reply: "i have come thus far to take vengeance upon ivan; to punish him for neglecting for nine years to appear before me with tribute and in homage. let him come penitently into my presence and kiss my stirrup, and then perhaps, if my lords intercede for him, i may forgive him." as soon as it was heard in moscow that the grand prince was manifesting such timidity, the clergy sent to him a letter urging the vigorous defense of their country and of their religion. the letter was written by vassian, the archbishop of moscow, and was signed, on behalf of the clergy, by several of the higher ecclesiastics. we have not space to introduce the whole of this noble epistle, which is worthy of being held in perpetual remembrance. the following extracts will show its spirit. it was in the form of a letter from the archbishop to the king; to which letter others of the clergy gave their assent: "it is our duty to announce the truth to kings, and that which i have already spoken in the ear of your majesty i now write, to inspire you with new courage and energy. when, influenced by the prayers and the councils of your bishop, you left moscow for the army, with the firm intention of attacking the enemy of the christians, we prostrated ourselves day and night before god, pleading with him to grant the victory to our armies. nevertheless, we learn that at the approach of akhmet, of that ferocious warrior who has already caused thousands of christians to perish, and who menaces your throne and your country, you tremble before him--you implore peace of him, and send to him embassadors, while that impious warrior breathes only vengeance and despises your prayer. "ah, grand prince, to what counselors have you lent your ear? what men, unworthy of the name of christian, have given you such advice? will you throw away your arms and shamefully take to flight? but reflect from what a height of grandeur your majesty will descend; to what a depth of humiliation you will fall! are you willing, oh prince, to surrender russia to fire and blood, your churches to pillage, your subjects to the sword of the enemy? what heart is so insensible as not to be overwhelmed by the thought even of such a calamity? "no; we will trust in the all-powerful god! no; you will not abandon us! you will blush at the name of a fugitive, of being the betrayer of your country. lay aside all fear. redouble your confidence in god. then one shall chase a thousand, and two shall put ten thousand to flight. there is no god like ours. do you say that the oath, taken by your ancestors, binds you not to raise your arms against the khan? but we, your metropolitan bishop, and all the other bishops, representatives of jesus christ, absolve you from that oath, extorted by force; we all give you our benediction, and conjure you to march against akhmet, who is but a brigand and an enemy of god. "god is a father full of tenderness for his children. he knows when to punish and when to pardon. and if formerly he submerged pharaoh to save the children of israel, he will, in the same manner, save you and your people, if you purify your heart by penitence, for you are a man and a sinner. the penitence of a monarch is his sacred obligation to obey the laws of justice, to cherish his people, to renounce every act of violence, and grant pardon even to the guilty. it is thus that god will elevate you among us, as formerly he elevated moses, joshua and the other liberators of israel, that russia, a new israel, may be delivered by you from the impious akhmet, that other pharaoh. "i pray you, grand prince, do not censure me for my feeble words, for it is written, 'give instruction to a wise man and he will be yet wiser.'[ ] so may it be. receive our benediction, you and your children, all the nobles and chieftains, and all your brave warriors, children of jesus christ. amen." [footnote : proverbs of solomon, ix. .] this letter, instead of giving the king offense, inspired him with new zeal and courage. he immediately abandoned all idea of peace. a fortnight had now passed in comparative inaction, the russians and tartars menacing each other from opposite sides of the stream. the cold month of november had now come, and a thin coating of ice began to spread over the surface of the stream. it was evident that akhmet was only waiting for the river to be frozen over, and that, in a few days, he would be able to cross at any point. the grand prince, seeing that the decisive battle could not much longer be deferred, ordered his troops, in the night, to make a change of position, that he might occupy the plains of borosk as a field more favorable for his troops. but the russian soldiers, still agitated by the fears which their sovereign had not been able to conceal, regarded this order as the signal for retreat. the panic spread from rank to rank, and, favored by the obscurity of the night, soon the whole host, in the wildest confusion, were in rapid flight. no efforts of the officers could arrest the dismay. before the morning, the russian camp was entirely deserted, and the fugitives were rushing, like an inundation, up the valley of the moskwa toward the imperial city. but god did not desert russia in this decisive hour. he appears to have heard and answered the prayers which had so incessantly ascended. in the russian annals, their preservation is wholly attributed to the interposition of that god whose aid the bishops, the clergy and christian men and women in hundreds of churches had so earnestly implored. the tartars, seeing, in the earliest dawn of the morning, the banks of the river entirely abandoned by the russians, imagined that the flight was but a ruse of war, that ambuscades were prepared for them, and, remembering previous scenes of exterminating slaughter, they, also, were seized with a panic, and commenced a retreat. this movement itself increased the alarm. terror spread rapidly. in an hour, the whole tartar host, abandoning their tents and their baggage, were in tumultuous flight. as the sun rose, an unprecedented spectacle was presented. two immense armies were flying from each other in indescribable confusion and dismay, each actually frightened out of its wits, and no one pursuing either. the russians did not stop for a long breath until they attained the walls of moscow. akhmet, having reached the head waters of the don, retreated rapidly down that stream, wreaking such vengeance as he could by the way, but not venturing to stop until he had reached his strongholds upon the banks of the volga. thus, singularly, _providentially_, terminated this last serious invasion of russia by the tartars. a russian annalist, in attributing the glory of this well-authenticated event all to god, writes: "shall men, vain and feeble, celebrate the terror of their arms? no! it is not to the might of earth's warriors, it is not to human wisdom that russia owes her safety, but only to the goodness of god." ivan iii., in the cathedrals of moscow, offered long continued praises to god for this victory, obtained without the effusion of blood. an annual festival was established in honor of this great event. akhmet, with his troops disorganized and scattered, had hardly reached the volga, ere he was attacked by a rival khan, who drove him some five hundred miles south to the shore of the sea of azof. here his rival overtook him, killed him with his own hand, took his wives and his daughters captives, seized all his riches, and then, seeking friendly relations with russia, sent word to moscow that the great enemy of the grand prince was in his grave. thus terminated for ever the sway of the tartars over the russians. for two hundred years, russia had been held by the khans in slavery. though the horde long continued to exist as a band of lawless and uncivilized men, often engaged in predatory excursions, no further attempts were made to exact either tribute or homage. chapter xi. the reign of vassili from to . alliance with hungary.--a traveler from germany.--treaty between russia and germany.--embassage to turkey.--court etiquette.--death of the princess sophia.--death of ivan.--advancement of knowledge.--succession of vassili.--attack upon the horde.--rout of the russians.--the grand prince takes the title of emperor.--turkish envoy to moscow.--efforts to arm europe against the turks.--death of the emperor maximilian, and accession of charles v. to the empire of germany.--death of vassili. the retreat of the tartars did not redound much to the glory of ivan. the citizens of moscow, in the midst of their rejoicings, were far from being satisfied with their sovereign. they thought that he had not exhibited that courage which characterizes grand souls, and that he had been signally wanting in that devotion which leads one to sacrifice himself for the good of his country. they lavished, however, their praises upon the clergy, especially upon the archbishop vassian, whose letter to the grand prince was read and re-read throughout the kingdom with the greatest enthusiasm. this noble prelate, whose christian heroism had saved his country, soon after fell sick and died, deplored by all russia. hungary was at this time governed by matthias, son of the renowned hunniades,[ ] a prince equally renowned for his valor and his genius. matthias, threatened by poland, sent embassadors to russia to seek alliance with ivan iii. eagerly russia accepted the proposition, and entered into friendly connections with hungary, which kingdom was then, in civilization, quite in advance of the northern empire. [footnote : see empire of austria, p. .] in the year , an illustrious cavalier, named nicholas poppel, visited russia, taking a letter of introduction to the grand prince from frederic iii., emperor of germany. he had no particular mission, and was led only by motives of curiosity. "i have seen," said the traveler, "all the christian countries and all the kings, and i wished, also, to see russia and the grand prince." the lords at moscow had no faith in these words, and were persuaded that he was a spy sent by their enemy, the king of poland. though they watched him narrowly, he was not incommoded, and left the kingdom after having satisfied his desire to see all that was remarkable. his report to the german emperor was such that, two years after, he returned, in the quality of an embassador from frederic iii., with a letter to ivan iii., dated ulm, december th, . the nobles now received poppel with great cordiality. he said to them: "after having left russia, i went to find the emperor and the princes of germany at nuremburg. i spent a long time giving them information respecting your country and the grand prince. i corrected the false impression, conceived by them, that ivan iii. was but the vassal of casimir, king of poland. 'that is impossible,' i said to them. 'the monarch of moscow is much more powerful and much richer than the king of poland. his estates are immense, his people numerous, his wisdom extraordinary.' all the court listened to me with astonishment, and especially the emperor himself, who often invited me to dine, and passed hours with me conversing upon russia. at length, the emperor, desiring to enter into an alliance with the grand prince, has sent me to the court of your majesty as his embassador." he then solicited, in the name of frederic iii., the hand of ivan's daughter, helen, for the nephew of the emperor, albert, margrave of baden. the proposition for the marriage of the daughter of the grand prince with a mere margrave was coldly received. ivan, however, sent an embassador to germany with the following instructions: "should the emperor ask if the grand prince will consent to the marriage of his daughter with the margrave of baden, reply that such an alliance is not worthy of the grandeur of the russian monarch, brother of the ancient emperors of greece, who, in establishing themselves at constantinople, ceded the city of rome to the popes. leave the emperor, however, to see that there is some hope of success should he desire one of our princesses for his son, the king maximilian." the russian embassador was received in germany with the most flattering attentions, even being conducted to a seat upon the throne by the side of the emperor. it is said that maximilian, who was then a widower, wished to marry helen, the daughter of the grand prince, but he wished, very naturally, first to see her through the eyes of his embassador, and to ascertain the amount of her dowry. to this request a polite refusal was returned. "how could one suppose," writes the russian historian karamsin, "that an illustrious monarch and a princess, his daughter, could consent to the affront of submitting the princess to the judgment of a foreign minister, who might declare her unworthy of his master?" the pride of the russian court was touched, and the emperor's embassador was informed, in very plain language, that the grand prince was not at all disposed to make a matter of merchandise of his daughter--that, _after_ her marriage, the grand prince would present her with a dowry such as he should deem proportionate to the rank of the united pair, and that, above all, should she marry maximilian, she should not change her religion, but should always have residing with her chaplains of the greek church. thus terminated the question of the marriage. a treaty, however, of alliance was formed between the two nations which was signed at moscow, august th, . in this treaty, ivan iii. subscribes himself, "by the grace of god, monarch of all the russias, prince of vladimir, moscow, novgorod, pskof, yougra, viatha, perme and bulgaria." we thus see what portion of the country was then deemed subject to his sway. ivan iii., continually occupied in extending, consolidating and developing the resources of his vast empire, could not but look with jealousy upon the encroachments of the turks, who had already overrun all greece, who had taken a large part of hungary, and who were surging up the danube in wave after wave of terrible invasion. still, sound judgment taught him that the hour had not yet come for him to interpose; that it was his present policy to devote all his energies to the increase of russian wealth and power. it was a matter of the first importance that russia should enjoy the privileges of commerce with those cities of greece now occupied by the turks, to which russia had access through the dnieper and the don, and partially through the vast floods of the volga. but the russian merchants were incessantly annoyed by the oppression of the lawless turks. the following letter from ivan iii. to the sultan bajazet ii., gives one a very clear idea of the relations existing between the two countries at that time. it is dated moscow, august st, . "to bajazet, sultan, king of the princes of turkey, sovereign of the earth and of the sea, we, ivan iii., by the grace of god, only true and hereditary monarch of all the russias, and of many other countries of the north and of the east; behold! that which we deem it our duty to write to your majesty. we have never sent embassadors to each other with friendly greetings. nevertheless, the russian merchants have traversed your estates in the exercise of a traffic advantageous to both of our empires. often they complain to me of the vexations they encounter from your magistrates, but i have kept silence. the last summer, the pacha of azof forced them to dig a ditch, and to carry stones for the construction of the edifices of the city; more than this, they have compelled our merchants of azof and of caffa to dispose of their merchandise for one half their value. if any one of the merchants happens to fall sick, the magistrates place seals upon the goods of all, and, if he dies, the state seizes all these goods, and restores but half if he recover. no regard is paid to the clauses of a will, the turkish magistrates recognizing no heirs but themselves to the property of the russians. "such glaring injustice has compelled me to forbid my merchants to engage in traffic in your country. from whence come these acts of violence? formerly these merchants paid only the legal tax, and they were permitted to trade without annoyance. are you aware of this, or not? one word more. mahomet ii., your father, was a prince of grandeur and renown. he wished, it is reported, to send to us embassadors, proposing friendly relations. providence frustrated the execution of this project. but why should we not now see the accomplishment of this plan? we await your response." the russian embassador received orders from ivan iii. to present his document to the sultan, standing, and not upon his knees, as was the custom in the turkish court; he was not to yield precedence to the embassador of any other nation whatever, and was to address himself only to the sultan, and not to the pachas. plestchief, the russian envoy, obeyed his instructions to the letter, and by his haughty bearing excited the indignation of the turkish nobles. the pacha of constantinople received him with great politeness, loaded him with attentions, invited him to dine, and begged him to accept of a present of some rich dresses, and a purse of ten thousand sequins. the haughty russian declined the invitation to dine, returning the purse and the robes with the ungracious response, "i have nothing to say to pachas. i have no need to wear their clothes, neither have i any need of their money. i wish only to speak to the sultan." notwithstanding this arrogance, bajazet ii., the sultan, received plestchief politely, and returned a conciliatory answer to the grand prince, promising the redress of those grievances of which he complained. the turk was decidedly more civilized than the christian. he wrote to mengli ghirei, the pacha of the crimea, where most of these annoyances had occurred: "the monarch of russia, with whom i desire to live in friendly relations, has sent to me a clown. i can not consequently allow any of my people to accompany him back to russia, lest they should find him offensive. respected as i am from the east to the west, i blush in being exposed to such an affront. it is in consequence my wish that my son, the sultan of caffa, should correspond directly with the grand prince of moscow." with a sense of delicacy as attractive as it is rare, bajazet ii. refrained from complaining of the boorishness of the russian envoy, but wrote to the grand prince, ivan iii., in the following courteous terms: "you have sent, in the sincerity of your soul, one of your lords to the threshold of my palace. he has seen me and has handed me your letter, which i have pressed to my heart, since you have expressed a desire to become my friend. let your embassadors and your merchants no longer fear to frequent our country. they have only to come to certify to the veracity of all which your envoy will report to you from us. may god grant him a prosperous journey and the grace to convey to you our profound salutation--to you and to your friends; for those whom you love are equally dear to us." in the whole of this transaction the turkish court appears far superior to the russian in the refinements and graces of polished life. there seems to be something in a southern clime which ameliorates harshness of manners. the grecian emperors, perhaps, in abandoning their palaces, left also to their conquerors that suavity which has transmitted even to our day the enviable title of the "polished greek." in the year , ivan iii. lost his spouse, the greek princess sophia. her death affected the aged monarch deeply, and seriously impaired his health. twenty-five years had now elapsed since he received the young and beautiful princess as his bride, and during all these tumultuous years her genius and attractions had been the most brilliant ornament of his court. the infirmities of age pressed heavily upon the king, and it was manifest that his days could not much longer be prolonged. with much ceremony, in the presence of his lords, he dictated his will, declaring his oldest son vassili to be his successor as monarch, and assigning to all his younger children rich possessions. the passion for the aggrandizement of russia still glowed strongly in his bosom even in the hour of death. vassili, though twenty-five years of age, was as yet unmarried. he decided to select his spouse from the daughters of the russian nobles, and fifteen hundred of the most beautiful belles of the kingdom were brought to the court that the prince, from among them, might make his selection. the choice fell upon a maiden of exquisite beauty, of tartar descent. her father was an officer in the army, a son of one of the chiefs of the horde. the marriage was immediately consummated, and all moscow was in a blaze of illumination, rejoicing over the nuptials of the heir to the crown. the decay of the aged monarch, however, advanced, day by day. his death, at last, was quite sudden, in the night of the th of october, , at the age of sixty-six years and nine months, and at the close of a reign of forty three years and a half. ivan iii. will, through all ages, retain the rank of one of the most illustrious of the sovereigns of russia. the excellencies of his character and the length of his reign, combined in enabling him to give an abiding direction to the career of his country. he made his appearance on the political stage just in the time when a new system of government, favorable to the power of the sovereigns of europe, was rising upon the ruins of feudalism. the royal authority was gaining rapidly in england and in france. spain, freed from the domination of the moors, had just become a power of the first rank. the fleets of portugal were whitening the most distant seas, conferring upon the energetic kingdom wonderful wealth and power. italy, though divided, exulted in her fleet, her maritime wealth, and her elevation above all other nations in the arts, the sciences and the intrigues of politics. frederic iv., emperor of germany, an inefficient, apathetic man, was unable to restore repose to the empire, distracted by civil war. his energetic son, maximilian, was already meditating that political change which should give new strength to the monarch, and which finally raised the house of austria to the highest point of earthly grandeur. hungary, bohemia and poland, governed by near relatives, might almost be considered as a single power, and they were, as by instinct, allied with austria in endeavors to resist the encroachments of the turks. inventions and discoveries of the greatest importance were made in the world during the reign of ivan iii. gutenberg and faust in strasbourg invented the art of printing. christopher columbus discovered the new world. until then the productions of india reached central europe through persia, the caspian sea and the sea of azof. on the th of november, , vasco de gama doubled the cape of good hope, thus opening a new route to the indies, and adding immeasurably to the enterprise and wealth of the world. a new epoch seemed to dawn upon mankind, favorable at least to the tranquillity of nations, the progress of civilization and the strength of governments. thus far russia, in her remote seclusion, had taken no part in the politics of europe. it was not until the reign of ivan iii. that this great northern empire emerged from that state of chaos in which she had neither possessed definiteness of form nor assured existence. ivan iii. found his nation in subjection to the tartars. he threw off the yoke; became one of the most illustrious monarchs in europe, commanding respect throughout christendom; he took his position by the side of emperors and sultans, and by the native energies of his mind, unenlightened by study, he gave the wisest precepts for the internal and the external government of his realms. but he was a rude, stern man, the legitimate growth of those savage times. it is recorded that a single angry look from him would make any woman faint; that at the table the nobles trembled before him, not daring to utter a word. vassili now ascended the throne, and with great energy carried out the principles established by his father. the first important measure of the new monarch was to fit out an expedition against the still powerful but vagabond horde at kezan, on the volga, to punish them for some acts of insubordination. a powerful armament descended the volga in barges. the infantry landed near kezan on the d of may, . the tartars, with a numerous array of cavalry, were ready to receive their assailants, and fell upon them with such impetuosity and courage that the russians were overpowered, and driven back, with much slaughter, to their boats. they consequently retreated to await the arrival of the cavalry. the tartars, imagining that the foe, utterly discomfited, had fled back to moscow, surrendered themselves to excessive joy. a month passed away, and on the d of june an immense assemblage of uncounted thousands of tartars were gathered in festivity on the plains of arsk, which spread around their capital city. more than a thousand tents were spread upon the field. merchants from all parts were gathered there displaying their goods, and a scene of festivity and splendor was exhibited, such as modern civilization has never paralleled. suddenly the russian army, horse and infantry, were seen upon the plain, as if they had dropped from the clouds. they rushed upon the encampment, cutting down the terrified multitude, with awful butchery, and trampling them beneath their horses' feet. the fugitives, in dismay, sought to regain the city, crushing each other in their flight and in the desperate endeavor to crowd in at the gates and along the narrow streets. the russians, exhausted by their victory, and lured by the luxuries which filled the tents, instead of taking the city by storm, as, in the confusion they probably could have done, surrendered themselves to pillage and voluptuous indulgence. they found the tents filled with food, liquors of all kinds and a great quantity of precious commodities, and forgetting they were in the presence of an enemy, they plunged into the wildest excesses of festivity and wassail. the disgraceful carousal was briefly terminated during the night, but renewed, with additional zest, in the morning. the songs and the shouts of the drunken soldiers were heard in the streets of kezan, and, from the battlements, the tartars beheld these orgies, equaling the most frantic revels of pagan bacchanals. the tartar khan, from the top of a bastion, watched the spectacle, and perceiving the negligence of his enemies, prepared for a surprise and for vengeance. on the th of june, just at the dawn of day, the gates were thrown open, and twenty thousand horsemen and thirty thousand infantry precipitated themselves with frightful yells upon the russians, stupefied with sleep and wine. though the russians exceeded the tartars two to one, yet they fled towards their boats like a flock of sheep, without order and without arms. the plain was speedily strewn with their dead bodies and crimsoned with their blood. too much terrified to think even of resistance, they clambered into their barges, cut the cables, and pushed out into the stream. but for the valor of the russian cavalry all would have been destroyed. in the deepest humiliation the fugitives returned to moscow. vassili resolved upon another expedition which should inflict signal vengeance upon the horde. but while he was making his preparations, the khan, terrified in view of the storm which was gathering, sent an embassage to moscow imploring pardon and peace, offering to deliver up all the prisoners and to take a new oath of homage to the grand prince. vassili, who was just on the eve of a war with poland, with alacrity accepted these concessions. the king of poland had heard, with much joy, of the death of ivan iii., whose energetic arm he had greatly feared, and he now hoped to take advantage of the youth and inexperience of vassili. a harassing warfare was commenced between russia and poland, which raged for several years. peace was finally made, russia extorting from poland several important provinces. in the year , vassili, entering into a treaty with maximilian, the emperor of germany, laid aside the title of grand prince and assumed for himself that of emperor, which was _kayser_ in the german language and _tzar_ in the russian. with great energy vassili pushed the work of concentrating and extending his empire, every year strengthening his power over the distant principalities. bajazet ii., the turkish sultan, the victim of a conspiracy, was dethroned by his son selim. vassili, wishing, for the sake of commerce, to maintain friendly relations with turkey, sent an embassador to the new sultan. the embassador, alexeief, was authorized to make all proper protestations of friendship, but to be very cautious not to compromit the dignity of his sovereign. he was instructed not to prostrate himself before the sultan, as was the oriental custom, but merely to offer his hands. he was to convey rich presents to selim, with a letter from the russian court, but was by no means to enquire for the health of the sultan, unless the sultan should first enquire for the health of the emperor. notwithstanding these chilling punctilios, selim received the russian embassador with much cordiality, and sent back with him a turkish embassador to the court of moscow. nine months, from august to may, were occupied in the weary journey. while traversing the vast deserts of veronage, their horses, exhausted and starving, sank beneath them, and they were obliged to toil along for weary leagues on foot, suffering from the want both of food and water. they nearly perished before reaching the frontiers of rezan, but here they found horses and retinue awaiting them, sent by vassili. upon their arrival at moscow, the turkish embassador was received with great enthusiasm. it was deemed an honor, as yet unparalleled in russia, that the terrible conquerors of constantinople, before whose arms all christendom was trembling, should send an embassador fifteen hundred miles to moscow to seek the alliance of the emperor. the turkish envoy was received with great magnificence by vassili, seated upon his throne, and surrounded by his nobles clad in robes of the most costly furs. the embassador, theodoric kamal, a greek by birth, with the courtesy of the polished greek, kneeling, kissed the hand of the emperor, presented him the letter of his master, the sultan, beautifully written upon parchment in arabic letters, and assured the emperor of the wish of the sultan to live with him in eternal friendship. but the turk, loud in protestations, was not disposed to alliance. it was evident that the office of a spy constituted the most important part of the mission of kamal. this embassador had but just left the court of moscow when another appeared, from the emperor maximilian, of germany. the message with which the baron herberstein was commissioned from the court of vienna to the court of moscow is sufficiently important to be recorded. "ought not sovereigns," said the embassador, "to seek the glory of religion and the happiness of their subjects? such are the principles which have ever guided the emperor. if he has waged war, it has never been from the love of false glory, nor to seize the territories of others, but to punish those who have dared to provoke him. despising danger, he has been seen in battle, exposing himself like the humblest soldier, and gaining victories against superior forces because the almighty lends his arm to aid the virtuous. "the emperor of germany is now reposing in the bosom of tranquillity. the pope and all the princes of italy have become his allies. spain, naples, sicily and twenty-six other realms recognize his grandson, charles v., for their legitimate and hereditary monarch. the king of portugal is attached to him by the ties of relationship, and the king of england by the bonds of sincere friendship. the sovereigns of denmark and hungary have married the grand-daughters of maximilian, and the king of poland testifies to unbounded confidence in him. i will not speak of your majesty, for the emperor of russia well knows how to appreciate the sentiments of the emperor of germany. "the king of france and the republic of venice, influenced by selfish interests, and disregarding the prosperity of christianity, have taken no part in this fraternal alliance of all the rest of europe; but they are now beginning to manifest a love for peace, and i have just learned that a treaty is about to be concluded with them, also. let any one now cast a glance over the world and he will see but one christian prince who is not attached to the emperor maximilian either by the ties of friendship or affection. all christian europe is in profound peace excepting russia and poland. "maximilian has sent me to your majesty, illustrious monarch, to entreat you to restore repose to christianity and to your states. peace causes empires to flourish; war destroys their resources and hastens their downfall. who can be sure of victory? fortune often frustrates the wisest plans. "thus far i have spoken in the name of my master. i wish now to add, that on my journey i have been informed, by the turkish embassador himself, that the sultan has just captured damascus, jerusalem and all egypt. a traveler, worthy of credence, has confirmed this deplorable intelligence. if, before these events, the power of the sultan inspired us with just fear, ought not this success of his arms to augment our apprehensions?" russia and poland had long been engaged in a bloody frontier war, each endeavoring to wrest provinces from the other; but russia was steadily on the advance. the embassage of maximilian was not productive of peace. on the contrary, vassili immediately sent an embassador to vienna to endeavor to secure the aid of austria in his war with poland. maximilian received the envoy with very extraordinary marks of favor. he was invited to sit, in the presence of the emperor, with his hat upon his head, and whenever the embassador, during the conference, mentioned the name of the russian emperor, maximilian uncovered his head in token of respect. the great object of maximilian's ambition was to arm all europe against the turks; and he was exceedingly anxious to secure the coöperation of a power so energetic as that of russia had now proved herself to be. even then with consummate foresight he wrote: "the integrity of poland is indispensable to the general interests of europe. the grandeur of russia is becoming dangerous." maximilian soon sent another embassador to moscow, who very forcibly described the conquests made by the turks in europe, asia and africa, from the thracian bosporus to the sands of egypt, and from the mountains of caucasia to venice. he spoke of the melancholy captivity of the greek church, which was the mother of russian christianity; of the profanation of the holy sepulcher; of nazareth, bethlehem and sinai, which had fallen under the domination of the turk. he suggested, that the turks, in possession of the tauride--as the country upon the north shore of the black sea, bounded by the dnieper and the sea of azof was then called--threatened the independence of russia herself; that vassili had every thing to fear from the ferocity, the perfidy and the success of selim, who, stained with the blood of his father and his three brothers, dared to assume the title of master of the world. he entreated vassili, as one of the most powerful of the christian princes, to follow the banner of jesus christ, and to cease to make war upon poland, thus exhausting the christian powers. maximilian died before his embassador returned, and thus these negotiations were interrupted. but russia was then all engrossed with the desire of obtaining provinces from poland. turkey was too formidable a foe to think of assailing, and the idea at that time of wresting any territory from turkey was preposterous. all europe combined could only hope to check any _further advance_ of the moslem cimeters. influenced by these considerations, vassili sent another embassador to constantinople to propose a treaty with selim, which might aid russia in the strife with her hereditary rival. the sultan, glad of any opportunity to weaken the christian powers, ordered his pachas to harass poland in every possible way on the south, thus enabling russia more easily to assail the distracted kingdom on the north. the king of poland, sigismond, was in consternation. poland was united with rome in religion. the pope, leo x., anxious to secure the coöperation of both poland and russia against the turks, who were the great foe christianity had most to dread, proposed that the king of poland, a renowned warrior, should be entrusted with the supreme command of the christian armies, and adroitly suggested to vassili, that constantinople was the legitimate heritage of a russian monarch, who was the descendant of a grecian princess; that it was sound policy for him to turn his attention to turkey; for poland, being a weaker power, and combined of two discordant elements, the original poland and lithuania, would of necessity be gradually absorbed by the growth of russia. vassili hated the pope, because he had ordered _te deums_ in rome, in celebration of a victory which the poles had obtained over the russians, and had called the russians _heretics_. but still the bait the pope presented was too alluring not to be caught at. in the labyrinthine mazes of politics, however, there were obstacles to the development of this policy which years only could remove. upon the death of maximilian, charles v. of spain ascended the throne of the german empire, and established a power, the most formidable that had been known in europe for seven hundred years, that is, since the age of charlemagne. vassili was in the midst of these plans of aggrandizement when death came with its unexpected summons. he was in the fifty-fourth year of his age, with mental and physical vigor unimpaired. a small pimple appeared on his left thigh, not larger than the head of a pin, but from its commencement attended with excruciating pain. it soon resolved itself into a malignant ulcer, which rapidly exhausted all the vital energies. the dying king was exceedingly anxious to prepare himself to stand before the judgment seat of god. he spent days and nights in prayer, gave most affectionate exhortations to all around him to live for heaven, assumed monastic robes, resolving that, should he recover, he would devote himself exclusively to the service of god. it was midnight the d of december, . the king had just partaken of the sacrament of the lord's supper. suddenly his tongue was paralyzed, his eyes fixed, his hands dropped by his side, and the metropolitan bishop, who had been administering the last rites of religion, exclaimed, "it is all over. the king is dead." chapter xii. ivan iv.--his minority. from to . vassili at the chase.--attention to distinguished foreigners.--the autocracy.--splendor of the edifices.--slavery.--aristocracy.--infancy of ivan iv.--regency of hélène.--conspiracies and tumults.--war with sigismond of poland.--death of hélène.--struggles of the nobles.--appalling sufferings of dmitri.--incursion of the tartars.--successful conspiracy.--ivan iv. at the chase.--coronation of ivan iv. under vassili, the russian court attained a degree of splendor which had before been unknown. the baron of herberstein thus describes the appearance of the monarch when engaging in the pleasures of the chase: "as soon as we saw the monarch entering the field, we dismounted and advanced to meet him on foot. he was mounted upon a magnificent charger, gorgeously caparisoned. he wore upon his head a tall cap, embroidered with precious stones, and surmounted by gilded plumes which waved in the wind. a poignard and two knives were attached to his girdle. he had upon his right, aley, tzar of kazan, armed with a bow and arrows; at his left, two young princes, one of whom held an ax, and the other a number of arms. his suite consisted of more than three hundred cavaliers." the chase was continued, over the boundless plains, for many days and often weeks. when night approached, the whole party, often consisting of thousands, dismounted and reared their village of tents. the tent of the emperor was ample, gorgeous, and furnished with all the appliances of luxury. hounds were first introduced into these sports in russia by vassili. the evening hours were passed in festivity, with abundance of good cheer, and in narrating the adventures of the day. whenever the emperor appeared in public, he was preceded by esquires chosen from among the young nobles distinguished for their beauty, the delicacy of their features and the perfect proportion of their forms. clothed in robes of white satin and armed with small hatchets of silver, they marched before the emperor, and appeared to strangers, say his cotemporaries, "like angels descended from the skies." vassili was especially fond of magnificence in the audiences which he gave to foreign embassadors. to impress them with an idea of the vast population and wealth of russia, and of the glory and power of the sovereign, vassili ordered, on the day of presentation, that all the ordinary avocations of life should cease, and the citizens, clothed in their richest dresses, were to crowd around the walls of the kremlin. all the young nobles in the vicinity, with their retinues, were summoned. the troops were under arms, and the most distinguished officers, glittering in the panoply of war, rode to meet the envoys.[ ] in the hall of audience, crowded to its utmost capacity, there was silence, as of the grave. the king sat upon his throne, his bonnet upon one side of him, his scepter upon the other. his nobles were seated around upon couches draped in purple and embroidered with pearls and gold. [footnote : francis da callo relates that when he was received by the emperor, forty thousand soldiers were under arms, in the richest uniform, extending from the kremlin to the hotel of the embassadors.] following the example of ivan iii., vassili was unwearied in his endeavors to induce foreigners of distinction, particularly artists, physicians and men of science, to take up their residence in russia. any stranger, distinguished for genius or capability of any kind, who entered russia, found it not easy to leave the kingdom. a greek physician, of much celebrity, from constantinople, visited moscow. vassili could not find it in his heart to relinquish so rich a prize, and detained him with golden bonds, which the unhappy man, mourning for his wife and children, in vain endeavored to break away. at last the sultan was influenced to write in behalf of the greek. "permit," he wrote, "marc to return to constantinople to rejoin his family. he went to russia only for a temporary visit." the emperor replied: "for a long time marc has served me to his and my perfect satisfaction. he is now my lieutenant at novgorod. send to him his wife and children." the power of the sovereign was absolute. his will was the supreme law. the lives, the fortunes of the clergy, the laity, the lords, the citizens were dependent upon his pleasure. the russians regarded their monarch as the executor of the divine will. their ordinary language was, _god and the prince decree it_. the russians generally defend this _autocracy_ as the only true principle of government. the philosophic karamsin writes: "ivan iii. and vassili knew how to establish permanently the nature of one government by constituting in _autocracy_ the necessary attribute of empire, its sole constitution, and the only basis of safety, force and prosperity. this limitless power of the prince is regarded as _tyranny_ in the eye of strangers, because, in their inconsiderate judgment, they forget that _tyranny_ is the abuse of autocracy, and that the same tyranny may exist in a republic when citizens or powerful magistrates oppress society. autocracy does not signify the absence of laws, since law is everywhere where there is any duty to be performed, and the first duty of princes, is it not to watch over the happiness of their people?" to the traveler, in the age of vassili, russia appeared like a vast desert compared with the other countries of europe. the sparseness of the habitations, the extended plains, dense forests and roads, rough and desolate, attested that russia was still in the cradle of its civilization. but as one approached moscow, the signs of animated life rapidly increased. convoys crowded the grand route, which traversed vast prairies waving with grain and embellished with all the works of industry. in the midst of this plain rose the majestic domes and glittering towers of moscow. the convents, in massive piles, scattered around, resembled beautiful villages. the palace of the kremlin alone, was a city in itself. around this, as the nucleus, but spreading over a wide extent, were the streets of the metropolis, the palaces of the nobles, the mansions of the wealthy citizens and the shops of the artisans. the city in that day was, indeed, one of "magnificent distances," almost every dwelling being surrounded by a garden in luxurious cultivation. in the year , the houses, by count, which was ordered by the grand prince, amounted to forty-one thousand five hundred. the metropolitan bishop, the grand dignitaries of the court, the princes and lords occupied splendid mansions of wood reared by grecian and italian architects in the environs of the kremlin. on wide and beautiful streets there were a large number of very magnificent churches also built of wood. the bazaars or shops, filled with the rich merchandise of europe and of asia, were collected in one quarter of the city, and were surrounded by a high stone wall as a protection against the armies, domestic or foreign, which were ever sweeping over the land. from the eleventh to the sixteenth century, slavery may be said to have been universal in russia. absolutely every man but the monarch was a slave. the highest nobles and princes avowed themselves the slaves of the monarch. there was no law but the will of the sovereign. he could deprive any one of property and of life, and there was no power to call him to account but the poignard of the assassin or the sword of rebellion. in like manner the peasant serfs were slaves of the nobles, with no privileges whatever, except such as the humanity or the selfishness of their lords might grant but gradually custom, controlling public opinion, assumed almost the form of law. the kings established certain rules for the promotion of industry and the regulation of commerce. merchants and scholars attained a degree of practical independence which was based on indulgence rather than any constitutional right, and, during the reign of vassili, the law alone could doom the serf to death, and he began to be regarded as a _man_, as a _citizen_ protected by the laws.[ ] from this time we begin to see the progress of humanity and of higher conceptions of social life. it is, perhaps, worthy of record that anciently the peasants or serfs were universally designated by the name _smerdi_, which simply means _smelling offensively_. is the exhalation of an offensive odor the necessary property of a people imbruted by poverty and filth? in america that unpleasant effluvium has generally been considered a peculiarity pertaining to the colored race. philosophic observation may show that it is a disease, the result of uncleanliness, but, like other diseases, often transmitted from the guilty parent to the unoffending child. we have known white people who were exceedingly offensive in this respect, and colored people who were not so at all. [footnote : karamsin, tome vii., page .] the pride of illustrious birth was carried to the greatest extreme, and a noble would blush to enter into any friendly relations whatever with a plebeian. the nobles considered all business degrading excepting war, and spent the weary months, when not under arms, in indolence in their castles. the young women of the higher families were in a deplorable state of captivity. etiquette did not allow them to mingle with society, or even to be seen except by their parents, and they had no employment except sewing or knitting, no mental culture and no sources of amusement. it was not the custom for the young men to choose their wives, but the father of the maiden selected some eligible match for his daughter, and made propositions to the family of his contemplated son-in-law, stating the dowry he would confer upon the bride, and the parties were frequently married without ever having previously seen each other. the death of vassili transmitted the crown to his only son, ivan, an infant but three years of age. by the will of the dying monarch, the regency, during the minority of the child, was placed in the hands of the youthful mother, the princess hélène. the brothers of vassili and twenty nobles of distinction were appointed as counselors for the queen regent. two men, however, in concert with hélène, soon took the reins of government into their own hands. one of these was a sturdy, ambitious old noble, michel glinsky, an uncle of hélène; the other was a young and handsome prince, ivan telennef, who was suspected of tender _liaisons_ with his royal mistress. the first act of the new government was to assemble all the higher clergy in the church of the assumption, where the metropolitan bishop gave his benediction to the child destined to reign over russia, and who was there declared to be accountable to god only for his actions. at the same time embassadors were sent to all the courts of europe to announce the death of vassili and the accession of ivan iv. to the throne. but a week passed after these ceremonies ere the prince youri, one of the brothers of vassili, was arrested, charged with conspiracy to wrest the crown from his young nephew. he was thrown into prison, where he was left to perish by the slow torture of starvation. this severity excited great terror in moscow. the russians, ever strongly attached to their sovereigns, now found themselves under the reign of an oligarchy which they detested. conspiracies and rumors of conspiracies agitated the court. many were arrested upon suspicion alone, and, cruelly chained, were thrown into dungeons. michel glinsky, indignant at the shameful intimacy evidently existing between hélène and telennef, ventured to remonstrate with the regent boldly and earnestly, assuring her that the eyes of the court were scrutinizing her conduct, and that such vice, disgraceful anywhere, was peculiarly hideous upon a throne, where all looked for examples of virtue. the audacious noble, though president of the council, was immediately arrested under an accusation of treason, and was thrown into a dungeon, where, soon after, he was assassinated. a reign of terror now commenced, and imprisonment and death awaited all those who undertook in any way to thwart the plans of hélène and telennef. andré, the youngest of the brothers of vassili, a man of feeble character, now alone remained of the royal princes at court. he was nominally the tutor of his nephew, the young emperor, ivan iv., and though a prominent member of the council which vassili had established, he had no influence in the government which had been grasped so energetically and despotically by hélène and her paramour telennef. at length andré, trembling for his own life, timidly raised the banners of revolt, and gathered quite an army around him. but he had no energy to conduct a war. he was speedily taken, and, loaded with chains, was thrown into a dungeon, where, after a few weeks of most cruel deprivations, he miserably perished. thirty of the lords, implicated with him in the rebellion, were hung upon the trees around novgorod. many others were put to torture and perished on the rack. hélène, surrendering herself to the dominion of guilty love, developed the ferocity of a tigress. sigismond, king of poland, taking advantage of the general discontent of the russians under the sway of hélène, formed an alliance with the horde upon the lower waters of the don, and invaded russia, burning and destroying with mercilessness which demons could not have surpassed. prince telennef headed an army to repel them. the pen wearies in describing the horrors of these scenes. one hundred thousand russians are now flying before one hundred and fifty thousand polanders. hundreds of miles of territory are ravaged. cities and villages are stormed, plundered, burned; women and children are cut down and trampled beneath the feet of cavalry, or escape shrieking into the forests, where they perish of exposure and starvation. but an army of recruits comes to the aid of the russians. and now one hundred and fifty thousand polanders are driven before two hundred thousand russians. they sweep across the frontier like dust driven by the tornado. and now the cities and villages of poland blaze; her streams run red with blood. the polish wives and daughters in their turn struggle, shriek and die. from exhaustion the warfare ceases. the two antagonists, moaning and bleeding, wait for a few years but to recover sufficient strength to renew the strife, and then the brutal, demoniac butchery commences anew. such is the history of man. in this brief, but bloody war, the city of staradoub, in russia, was besieged by an army of poles and tartars. the assault was urged with the most desperate energy and fearlessness. the defense was conducted with equal ferocity. thousands fell on both sides in every mangled form of death. at last the besiegers undermined the walls, and placing beneath hundreds of barrels of gunpowder, as with the burst of a volcano, uphove the massive bastions to the clouds. they fell in a storm of ruin upon the city, setting it on fire in many places. through the flames and over the smouldering ruins, poles and tartars, blackened with smoke and smeared with blood, rushed into the city, and in a few hours thirteen thousand of the inhabitants were weltering in their gore. none were left alive. and this is but a specimen of the wars which raged for ages. the world now has but the faintest conception of the seas of blood and woe through which humanity has waded to attain even its present feeble recognition of fraternity. in this, as in every war with poland, russia was gaining, ever wresting from her rival the provinces of lithuania, and attaching them to the gigantic empire. in the year , hélène commenced the enterprise of surrounding the whole of moscow with a ditch, and a wall capable of resisting the batterings of artillery. an italian engineer, named petrok maloi, superintended these works. the foundation of the walls was laid with imposing religious ceremonies. the wall was crowned with four towers at the opening of the four gates. hélène was so conscious of the importance of augmenting the population of russia, that she offered land and freedom from taxes for a term of years to all who would migrate into her territory from poland. perhaps also she had a double object, wishing to weaken a rival power. much counterfeit coin was found to be in circulation. the regent issued an edict, that any one found guilty of depreciating the current standard of coin, should be punished with death, and this death was to be barbarously inflicted by first cutting off the hands of the culprit, and then pouring melted lead through a tunnel down his throat. on the d of april, , hélène, in the prime of life, and with all her sins in full vigor and unrepented, retired to her bed at night, suddenly and seriously sick. some one had succeeded in administering to her a dose of poison. she shrieked for a few hours in mortal agony, and soon after the hour of twelve was tolled, her spirit ascended to meet god in judgment. being dead, she had no favors to confer and no terrors to execute; and her festering remains were the same day hurried ignominiously to the grave. her paramour, telennef, alone wept over her death. russia rejoiced, and yet with trembling. whose strong arm would now seize the helm of the tempest-torn ship of state, no one could tell. the young prince, ivan iv., was but seven years of age at the death of his mother hélène. for several days there was ominous silence in moscow, the stillness which precedes the storm. the death of the regent had come so suddenly, so unexpectedly, that none were prepared for it. a week passed away, during which time parties were forming and conspiracies ripening, while telennef was desperately endeavoring to retain that power which he had so despotically wielded in conjunction with his royal mistress. the prince vassili schouisky, who had occupied the first place in the councils of vassili, opened the drama. having secured the coöperation of a large number of nobles, he declared himself the head of the government, arrested all the favorites of hélène, and threw telennef, bound with chains, into a dungeon. there he was left to die of starvation--barbarity, which, though in accordance with that brutal age, even all the similar excesses of telennef could not justify. the beautiful sister of telennef, agrippene by name, was torn from the saloons her loveliness had embellished, and was imprisoned for life in a convent. the victims of the cruelty of hélène, who were still languishing in prison, were set at liberty. schouisky was a widower, and in the fiftieth year of his age. he wished to strengthen his power by engaging the coöperation of the still formidable energies of the horde at kezan, and accordingly married, quite hurriedly, the daughter of the czar of the horde. but the regal diadem proved to him but a crown of thorns. conspiracy succeeded conspiracy, and schouisky felt compelled to enlist all the terrors of the dungeon, the scaffold and the block to maintain his place. six months only passed away, ere he too was writhing upon the royal couch in the agonies of death, whether paralyzed by poison or smitten by the hand of god, the day of judgment alone can reveal. ivan schouisky, the brother of the deceased usurper, now stepped into the dangerous post which death had so suddenly rendered vacant. he was a weak man, assuming the most pompous airs, quite unable to discriminate between imposing grandeur and ridiculous parade. he soon became both despised and detested. this state of things encouraged the two hordes of kezan and tauride to unite, and with an army of a hundred thousand men they penetrated russia almost unopposed, burning and plundering in all directions. under these circumstances the metropolitan bishop, joseph, a man of sincere piety and of very elevated character, and who enjoyed in the highest degree the confidence both of the aristocracy and of the people, presented himself before the council, urged the incapacity of ivan schouisky to govern, and proposed that ivan belsky, a nobleman of great energy and moral worth, should be chosen regent. the proposal was carried by acclamation. so unanimous was the vote, so cordial was the adoption of the republican principle of election, that ivan schouisky was powerless and was merely dismissed. the new regent, sustained by the clergy and the aristocracy, governed the state with wisdom and moderation. all kinds of persecution ceased, and vigorous measures were adopted for the promotion of the public welfare. old abuses were repressed; vicious governors deposed, and the rising flames of civil strife were quenched. even the hitherto unheard-of novelty of trial by jury was introduced. jurors were chosen from among the most intelligent citizens. though there was some bitter opposition among the corrupt nobles to these salutary reforms, the clergy, as a body, sustained them, and so did also even a majority of the lords. it was christianity and the church which introduced these humanizing measures. among the innumerable tragedies of those days, let one be mentioned illustrative of the terrific wrongs to which all are exposed under a despotic government. there was a young prince, dmitri, a child, grandson of vassili the blind, whose claims to the throne were feared. he was thrown into prison and there forgotten. for forty-nine years he had now remained in a damp and dismal dungeon. he had committed no crime. he was accused of no crime. it was only feared that restive nobles might use him as an instrument for the furtherance of their plans. all the years of youth and of manhood had passed in darkness and misery. no beam of the sun ever penetrated his tomb. all unheeded the tides of life surged in the world above him, while his mind with his body was wasting away in the long agony. "o who can tell what days, what nights he spent, of tideless, waveless, sailless, shoreless woe." mercy now entered his cell, but it was too late even for that angel visitant to bring a gleam of joy. his friends were all dead. his name was forgotten on earth. he knew nothing of the world or of its ways. his mind was enfeebled, and even the slender stock of knowledge which he had possessed as a child, had vanished away. they broke off his chains and removed him from his dungeon to a comfortable chamber. the poor old man, dazzled by the light and bewildered by the change, lingered joylessly and without a smile for a few weeks and died. immortality alone offers a solution for these mysteries. "after death cometh the judgment." the christian bishop, joseph, and ivan belsky, the regent, in cordial coöperation, endeavored in all things to promote prosperity and happiness. again there was a coalition of the tartars for the invasion of russia. the three hordes, in kezan, in the tauride and at the mouth of the volga, united, and in an army one hundred thousand strong, with numerous cavalry and powerful artillery, commenced their march. the russian troops were hastily collected upon the banks of the oka, there to take their stand and dispute the passage of the stream. by order of the clergy, prayers were offered incessantly in the churches by day and by night, that god would avert this terrible invasion. the young prince, ivan iv., was now ten years of age. the citizens of moscow were moved to tears and to the deepest enthusiasm on hearing their young prince, in the church of the assumption, offer aloud and fervently the prayer, "oh heavenly father! thou who didst protect our ancestors against the cruel tamerlane, take us also under thy holy protection--us in childhood and orphanage. our mind and our body are still feeble, and yet the nation looks to us for deliverance." accompanied by the metropolitan joseph, he entered the council and said, "the enemy is approaching. decide for me whether it be best that i should remain here or go to meet the foe." with one voice they exclaimed, "prince, remain at moscow." they then took a solemn oath to die, if necessary, for their prince. the citizens came forward in crowds and volunteered for the defense of the walls. the faubourgs were surrounded with pallisades, and batteries of artillery were placed to sweep, in all directions, the approaches to the city. the enthusiasm was so astonishing that the russian annalists ascribe it to a supernatural cause. on the th of july, , the tartar army appeared upon the southern banks of the oka, crowning all the heights which bordered the stream. immediately they made an attempt to force the passage. but the russians, thoroughly prepared for the assault, repelled them with prodigious slaughter. night put an end to the contest. the russians were elated with their success, and waited eagerly for the morning to renew the strife. they even hoped to be able to cross the river and to sweep the camp of their foes. the fires of their bivouacs blazed all the night, reinforcements were continually arriving, and their songs of joy floated across the water, and fell heavily upon the hearts of the dismayed tartars. at midnight the khan, and the whole host, conscious of their peril, commenced a precipitate retreat, in their haste abandoning many guns and much of their baggage. the russians pursued the foe, but were not able to overtake them, so rapidly did they retrace their steps. the news of the expulsion of the enemy spread rapidly through russia. the conduct of the grand prince everywhere excited the most lively enthusiasm. he entered the church, and in an affecting prayer returned thanks to god for the deliverance. the people, with unanimity, exclaimed, "grand prince, your angelic prayers and your happy star have caused us to triumph." awful, however, were the woes which fell upon those people who were on the line of march of the barbaric tartars. ivan belsky, the regent, had now attained the highest degree of good fortune, and in his own conscience, and in the general approbation of the people, he found ample recompense for his deeds of humanity, and his patriotic exertions. but envy, that poison of society, raised up against him enemies. ivan schouisky, who had been deposed by vote of the council, organized a conspiracy among the disaffected nobles, and on the night of the d of january, , three hundred cavaliers surrounded the residences of the regent and of the metropolitan bishop, seized them and hurried them to prison, and in the prison finished their work by the assassination of ivan belsky. ivan schouisky, sustained by the sabers of his partisans, reassumed the government. a new metropolitan bishop, macaire was appointed to take the place of joseph, who was deposed and imprisoned. the clergy, overawed, were silent. the reign of silence was again commenced, and all the posts of honor and influence were placed in the hands of the partisans of schouisky. the government, such as it was, was now in the hands of a triumvirate consisting of ivan, andré and feodor. not a syllable of opposition would these men endure, and the dungeon and the assassin's poignard silenced all murmurs. the young prince, ivan iv., was now thirteen years of age. he was endowed by nature with a mind of extraordinary sagacity and force, but his education had been entirely neglected, and the scenes of perfidy and violence he was continually witnessing were developing, a character which menaced russia with many woes. the infamous schiouskies sought to secure the friendship of the young prince by ministering, in every possible way, to his pleasures. they led him to the chase, encouraged whatever disposition he chanced to manifest, and endeavored to train him in a state of feebleness and ignorance which might promote their ambitious plans. the kremlin became the scene of constant intrigues. cabal succeeded cabal. the position of the triumvirate became, month after month, more perilous. the young prince gave decisive indications of discontent. it began to be whispered into his ears that it was time for him to assume the reins of government, and he was assured that all russia was waiting, eager to obey his orders. the metropolitan bishop, either from a sense of justice or of policy, also espoused the cause of the youthful sovereign. it was evident that another party was rising into power. on the th of december, , ivan iv. went with a large party of his lords to the chase. instructed beforehand in the measures he was to adopt, he, quite unexpectedly to the triumvirate, summoned all his lords around him, and, assuming an imperious and threatening tone, declared that the triumvirate had abused his extreme youth, had trampled upon justice, and, as culprits, deserved to die. in his great clemency, however, he decided to spare the lives of two, executing only one as an example to the nation. the oldest of the three, andré schouisky, was immediately seized and handed over to the conductors of the hounds. they set the dogs upon him, and he was speedily torn to pieces in the presence of the company, and his mangled remains were scattered over the plain. the partisans of schouisky, terrified by this deed, were afraid to utter a murmur. the nobles generally were alarmed, for it was evident that though they had escaped the violence of the triumvirate, they had fallen into hands equally to be dreaded. confiscations and other acts of rigor rapidly succeeded, and the young prince, still too youthful to govern by the decision of his own mind, was quite under the control of the glinskys, through whose council he had shaken off the triumvirate of the schouiskies. ivan iv. now made the tour of his kingdom, but with no other object than the promotion of his personal gratification. most of his time was devoted to the excitements of the chase in the savage forests which spread over a large portion of his realms. he was always surrounded by a brilliant staff of nobles, and the sufferings of the people were all concealed from his view. the enormous expenses of his court were exacted from the people he visited, and his steps were followed by lamentations. in the year , ivan attained the eighteenth year of his age, and made great preparations for his coronation. the imposing rites were to be performed at moscow. on the th of january, the grand prince entered one of the saloons of his palaces while the nobles, the princes, the officers of the court, all richly dressed, were assembled in the ante-chamber. the confessor of the grand prince, having received from ivan iv. a crucifix, placed it upon a plate of gold with the crown and other regalia, and conveyed them to the church of the assumption accompanied by the grand equerry, glinsky, and other important personages of the court. soon after, the grand prince also repaired to the church. he was preceded by an ecclesiastic holding in his hand a crucifix, and sprinkling to the right and to the left holy water upon the crowd. ivan iv., surrounded by all the splendors of his court, entered the church, where he was encircled by the ecclesiastics, and received the benediction of the metropolitan bishop. a hymn was then sang by the accumulated choirs, which astounded the audience; after which mass was celebrated. in the midst of the cathedral, a platform was erected, which was ascended by twelve steps. upon this platform there were two thrones of equal splendor, covered with cloth of gold, one for the monarch, the other for the metropolitan bishop. in front of the stage there was a desk, richly decorated, upon which were placed the crown regalia. the monarch and the bishop took their seats. the bishop, rising, pronounced a benediction upon the monarch, placed the crown upon his head, the scepter in his hand, and then, with a loud voice, prayed that god would endow this new david with the influences of the holy spirit, establish his throne in righteousness, and render him terrible to evil doers and a benefactor to those who should do well. the ceremonies were closed by an anthem by the choir. the young emperor then returned, with his court, to the kremlin, through streets carpeted with velvet and damask. as they walked along, the emperor's brother, youri, scattered among the crowd handsfull of gold coin, which he took from a vase carried at his side by michel glinsky. the moment ivan iv. left the church, the people, till then motionless and silent, precipitated themselves upon the platform, and all the rich cloths which had decorated it were torn to shreds, each individual eager to possess a souvenir of the memorable day. chapter xiii. the reign of ivan iv. from to . the title of tzar.--marriage of ivan iv.--virtues of his bride.--depraved character of the young emperor.--terrible conflagrations.--insurrections.--the rebuke.--wonderful change in the character of ivan iv.--confessions of sin and measures of reform.--sylvestre and alexis adachef.--the code of laws.--reforms in the church.--encouragement to men of science and letters.--the embassage of schlit.--war with kezan.--disasters and disgrace.--immense preparation for the chastisement of the horde.--the march.--repulse of the tauredians.--siege of kezan.--incidents of the siege. though the monarchs of russia, in all their relations with foreign powers, took the title of tzar or emperor, they also retained that of grand prince which was consecrated by ancient usage. and now the envoys of ivan iv. were traversing russia in all directions to find, among the maidens of noble blood, one whose beauty would render her worthy of the sovereign. the choice at last fell upon anastasia, the daughter of a lady of illustrious rank, who was a widow. language is exhausted, by the russian annalists, in describing the perfections of her person, mind and heart. all conceivable social and moral excellences were in her united with the most brilliant intellectual gifts and the most exquisite loveliness. the marriage was performed by the bishop in the church of notre dame. "you are now," said the metropolitan, in conclusion, "united for ever, by virtue of the mysteries of the gospel. prostrate yourselves, then, before the most high, and secure his favor by the practice of every virtue. but those virtues which should especially distinguish you, are the love of truth and of benevolence. prince, love and honor your spouse. princess, truly christian, be submissive to your husband; for as the redeemer is the head of the church, so is man the head of the woman." for many days moscow was surrendered to festivity and rejoicings. the emperor devoted his attention to the rich, the empress to the poor. anastasia, since the death of her father, had lived remote from the capital, in the most profound rural seclusion. suddenly, and as by magic, she found herself transported to the scenes of the highest earthly grandeur, but still she maintained the same beautiful simplicity of character which she had developed in the saddened home of her widowed mother. ivan iv. was a man of ungovernable passions, and accustomed only to idleness, he devoted himself to the most gross and ignoble pleasures. mercilessly he confiscated the estates of those who displeased him, and with caprice equal to his mercilessness, he conferred their possessions upon his favorites. he seemed to regard this arbitrary conduct as indicative of his independence and grandeur. the situation of russia was perhaps never more deplorable than at the commencement of the reign of ivan iv. the glinskys were in high favor, and easily persuaded the young emperor to gratify all their desires. laden with honors and riches, they turned a deaf ear to all the murmurs which despotism, the most atrocious, extorted from every portion of the empire. the inhabitants of pskof, oppressed beyond endurance by an infamous governor, sent seventy of their most influential citizens to moscow to present their grievances to the emperor. ivan iv. raved like a madman at what he called the insolence of his subjects, in complaining of their governor. almost choking with rage, he ordered the seventy deputies to be put to death by the most cruel tortures. anastasia wept in anguish over these scenes, and her prayers were incessantly ascending, that god would change the heart of her husband. her prayers were heard and answered. the same power which changed saul of tarsus into paul the apostle, seemed to renew the soul of ivan iv. history is full of these marvelous transformations--a mental phenomenon only to be explained by the scriptural doctrine of regeneration. in ivan's case, as in that of thousands of others, afflictions were instruments made available by the holy spirit for the heart's renewal. moscow was at this time a capital of vast extent and of great magnificence. as timber was abundant and easily worked, most of the buildings, even the churches and the palaces, were constructed of wood. though almost every house was surrounded by a garden, these enclosures were necessarily not extensive, and the city was peculiarly exposed to the perils of conflagration. on the th of april, , the cry of fire alarmed the inhabitants, and soon the flames were spreading with fury which baffled all human power. the store-houses of commerce, the magazines of the crown, the convent of epiphany and a large number of dwellings, extending from the gate of illinsky, to the kremlin and the moskwa, were consumed. the river alone arrested the destruction. a powder magazine took fire, and with a terrible explosion its towers were thrown into the air, taking with them a large section of the walls. the ruins fell like an avalanche into the river, completely filling up its channel, adding the destruction of a deluge to that of the fire. a week had hardly passed ere the cry of fire again was raised, and, in a few hours, the whole section of the city on the other side of the yaouza was in ashes. this region was mostly occupied by mechanics and manufacturers, and immense suffering ensued. six weeks elapsed, and the inhabitants were just beginning to recover from their consternation, and were sweeping away the ashes to rebuild, when on the th of june, the wind at the time blowing a gale, the fearful cry of fire again rang through the streets. the palaces of the nobles were now in flames. the palace of the kremlin itself, the gorgeous streets which surrounded it, and the whole of the grand faubourg in a few moments were glowing like a furnace. god had come with flaming fire as his minister of vengeance, and resistance was unavailing. the whole city was now in ashes, and presented the aspect of an immense funeral pile, over which was spread a pall of thick and black smoke. the wooden edifices disappeared entirely. those of stone and brick presented a still more gloomy aspect, with only portions of their walls standing, crumbling and blackened. the howling of the tempest, the roar of the flames, the crash of falling buildings, and the shrieks of the inhabitants, were all frequently overpowered by the explosions of the powder magazines in the arsenals of the kremlin. to many of the people it seemed that the day of judgment had actually arrived, that the trump of the archangel was sounding, and that the final conflagration had arrived. the palace of the emperor, his treasures, his precious things, his arms, his venerated images and the archives of the kingdom, all were devoured. the destruction of the city was almost as entire and as signal a proof of the divine displeasure as that of sodom and gomorrah. even the metropolitan bishop, who was in the church of the assumption, pleading for divine interposition, was with great difficulty rescued. smothered, and in a state almost of insensibility, he was conveyed through billows of flame and smoke. seventeen hundred adults, besides uncounted children, perished in the fire. for many days the wretched inhabitants were seen wandering about, in the fields and among the ruins, searching for their children, their friends or any articles of furniture which might, by chance, have escaped the flames. many became maniacs, and their cries arose in all directions like the howlings of wild beasts. the emperor and the nobles, to avoid the spectacle of so much misery, retired to the village of vorobeif, a few miles from moscow. the whole population of moscow, being in a state of despair, and reckless of consequences, were ripe for any conspiracy against an emperor and his favorites, whose iniquities, in their judgment, had brought down upon them the indignation of heaven. several of the higher clergy, in coöperation with some of the princes and nobles, resolved to arouse the energies of the populace to effect a change in the government. the glinskys were the advisers and instigators of the king. against them the fury of the populace was easily directed. these doomed minions of despotism were pursued with fury energized by despair. ivan iv. was quite unable to protect them. the glinskys, with their numerous partisans, had returned to moscow to make arrangements for the rebuilding of the kremlin when the mob fell upon them, and they were nearly all slain. in the eye of the populace, there was something so sacred in the person of their prince that no one thought of offering him any harm. ivan iv., astounded by this outbreak, was trembling in his palace at vorobeif, and his truly pious wife, anastasia, was, with tears, pleading with heaven, when one of the clergy, an extraordinary man named sylvestre, endowed with the boldness of an ancient prophet, entered the presence of the emperor. he was venerable in years, and his gray locks fell in clusters upon his shoulders. the boy king was overawed by his appearance. one word from that capricious king would cause the head of sylvestre to fall from the block. but the intrepid christian, with the solemnity of an embassador from god, with pointed finger and eye sparkling with indignation, thus addressed him: "god's avenging hand is suspended over the head of a god-forgetting, man-oppressing tzar. fire from heaven has consumed moscow. the anger of the most high has called up the people in revolt, and is spreading over the kingdom anarchy, fury and blood." then taking from his bosom a copy of the new testament, he read to the king those divinely-inspired precepts which are alike applicable to monarchs and peasants, and, in tones subdued by sadness, urged the king to follow these sacred lessons. the warning was heeded, and ivan became "a new creature." whatever explanations philosophy may attempt of the sudden and marvelous change of the character of ivan iv., the fact remains one of the marvels of history. he appears to have been immediately overwhelmed with a sense of his guilt; with tears he extended his hand to the courageous monitor, asked imploringly what he could do to avert the wrath and secure the favor of heaven, and placed himself at once under the guidance of his new-found friend. sylvestre, a humble, world-renouncing christian, sought nothing for himself, and would accept neither riches nor honors, but he remained near the throne to strengthen the young monarch in his good resolutions. there was a young man, alexis adachef, connected with the court who possessed a character of extraordinary nobleness and loveliness. he was of remarkable personal beauty, and his soul was pure and sensitive. entirely devoted to the good of others, without the least apparent mixture of sordid motives, he engaged in the service of the tzar, and became to him a friend of priceless value. alexis, mingling freely with the people, was acquainted with all their wants and griefs, and he coöperating with sylvestre, inspired the emperor with a heart to conceive and energy to execute all good things. from this conjunction is to be dated the commencement of the glory of the reign of ivan iv. the first endeavor of the reformed monarch was to quell the tumult among the people. three days after the assassination of the glinskys, a mob from moscow rushed out to the village of vorobeif, surrounded the palace and demanded one of the aunts of the emperor and another of the nobles who had become obnoxious to them. the king immediately opened a fire upon mob and dispersed them. this decisive act restored order. ivan iv. immediately devoted all his energies to preparing dwellings for the houseless poor and in relieving their necessities. his whole soul seemed aroused to promote the happiness of his subjects, both temporal and spiritual, and all selfish considerations were apparently obliterated from his mind. in order to consolidate, by the aids of religion, the happy change effected in the government and in his own heart, the young sovereign shut himself up for several days in solitude, and, in the exercises of self-examination, fasting and prayer, made the entire consecration of himself to his maker. he then assembled the bishops in one of the churches, and, in their presence, with touching words and tearful eyes, made confession of his faults, implored divine forgiveness, and then, with the calmness of a soul relieved of the burden of sin, received the sacrament of the lord's supper. with true nobility of soul, he wished his penitence to be as conspicuous as his sins had been. he resolved to humble himself before his maker in the presence of all russia, that his subjects universally might understand the new principles which animated his heart, and the new desires which would enlist his energies. every city in the empire received orders to send deputies to moscow, chosen from all the ranks of society, to attend to matters of the utmost importance to the country. the sabbath morning after their arrival, they were all assembled, an immense multitude, in one of the public squares of the city. the czar, accompanied by the clergy and the nobles, left the palace of the kremlin to meet the deputies. the solemnity of the sabbath hallowed the scene, and the people received their sovereign in profound silence. the metropolitan bishop first offered a prayer. ivan iv. then, standing on a platform, addressed the bishop in the following terms: "holy father! your zeal for religion, your love for our country are well known to me; aid me in my good intentions. i lost, while an infant, my parents, and the nobles, who sought only their own aggrandizement, neglected entirely my education, and have usurped, in my name, wealth and power. they have enriched themselves by injustice, and have crushed the poor without any one daring to check their ambition. i was, as it were, both deaf and dumb in my deplorable ignorance, for i heard not the lamentations of the poor, and my words solaced them not in their sorrows. who can tell the tears which have been shed, the blood which has flowed? for all these things the judgment of god is to be feared." bowing then on all sides to the people, the monarch continuing, thus addressed them: "o, you my people, whom the all-powerful has entrusted to my care, i invoke this day, in my behalf, both your religion and the love you have for me. it is impossible to repair past faults, but i will hereafter be your protector from oppression and all wrong. forget those griefs which shall never be renewed. lay aside every subject of discord, and let christian love fraternize your hearts. from this day i will be your judge and your defender." religious ceremonies, simple yet imposing, closed this scene. alexis adachef was appointed minister of justice, receiving special instructions to watch the empire with a vigilant eye, that the poor especially should be subject to no oppression. from that moment all the actions of the sovereign were guided by the counsels of sylvestre and adachef. ivan iv. assembled around him a council of his wisest and best men, and ever presided in person over their meetings. with great energy he entered upon the work of establishing a code of laws, which should be based upon the love of justice and good order. in the year this important code was promulgated, which forms almost the basis of russian civilization. on the d of february, , a large convention of the clergy, of the nobles and of the principal citizens of the empire, was assembled at the kremlin, and the emperor presented to them, for their own consideration and approval, the code of laws which had been framed. the mind of ivan iv. expanded rapidly under these noble toils, and in a speech of great eloquence he urged them to examine these laws, to point out any defects and to coöperate with him in every endeavor for the prosperity of russia. after having thus settled the affairs of the state, the monarch turned his attention to those of the church, urging the clergy to devote themselves to the work of ecclesiastical reform; to add simplicity to the ceremonies of religion, to prepare books of piety for the people, to train up a thoroughly instructed clergy for the pulpits, to establish rules for the decorous observance of divine worship, to abolish useless monasteries, to purify the convents of all immorality, and to insist that ecclesiastics, of every grade, should be patterns of piety for their flocks. the clergy eagerly engaged in this plan of reform, and vied with their christian monarch in their efforts for the public weal. among the number of projects truly worthy of the grand prince, we must not neglect particular mention of his attempt to enrich russia by encouraging the emigration, from other lands, of men distinguished in the arts and sciences. a distinguished german, named schlit, being in moscow in , informed the tzar of the rapid progress germany was making in civilization and enlightenment. ivan iv. listened attentively, and after many interviews and protracted questionings, proposed that he should return to germany as an envoy from russia, and invite, in his name, to moscow, artists, physicians, apothecaries, printers, mechanics, and also literary men, skilled in the languages, dead or living, and learned theologians. schlit accepted the mission and hastened to augsburg, where the emperor charles v. was then presiding over a diet. schlit presented to him a letter from ivan iv. relative to this business. charles was a little doubtful as to the expediency of allowing illustrious men from his empire to emigrate and thus add to the consideration and power of a rival kingdom. nevertheless, after a long deliberation with the assembled states, he consented to gratify the tzar, on consideration that he would engage, by oath, not to allow any of the artists or the literati to pass from russia into turkey, and that he would not employ their talents in any manner hurtful to the german empire. turkey was at that time assuming an attitude so formidable, that it was deemed expedient to increase the power of russia, as that kingdom might thus more effectually aid as a barrier against the turks; while, at the same time, it was deemed a matter of the utmost moment that turkey should receive no aid whatever from christian civilization. charles v. accordingly gave schlit a written commission to raise his corps of emigrants. he soon assembled one hundred and twenty illustrious men at lubeck, where they were to embark for russia. but, in the mean time, the opposition had gained ground, and even charles v. himself had become apprehensive that russia, thus enlightened, might attain to formidable power. he accordingly had schlit arrested. the corps of emigrants, thus deprived of their leader, and consequently disheartened, soon dispersed. several months passed away before ivan iv. received intelligence of the sad fate of his envoy. though the plan thus failed, nevertheless, quite a number of these german artists, notwithstanding the prohibition of the emperor, effected their escape from germany, secretly entered russia, and engaged in the service of the tzar, were they were very efficient in contributing to russian civilization. the barbarian horde at kezan still continued to annoy russia with very many incursions. some were mere petty forays, others were extended invasions, but all were alike merciless and bloody. in february, , ivan iv., then but twenty two years of age, placed himself at the head of a large army to descend the volga and punish the horde. the monarch was young and totally inexperienced in war. a series of terrible disasters from storms and floods thinned his ranks, and the monarch in great dejection returned to moscow to replenish his forces. again, early in december, he hastened to meet his army which had been rendezvoused at nigni novgorod, on the volga, about three hundred miles west of moscow. in the early spring they descended the river, and in great force encamped before the walls of kezan. the walls were of wood. the russians were sixty thousand strong, and were aided with several batteries of artillery. the assault was immediately commenced, and for one whole day the battle raged with equal valor on the part of the assailants and the defendants. the next day a storm arose, the rain falling abundantly and freezing as it touched the ground. the encampment was flooded, and the assailants, unable to make any progress, were again compelled to beat a retreat. these reverses mortified the young tzar, though he succeeded in effecting a treaty with the barbarians, which in some degree covered his disgrace. but the horde, entirely disorganized, paid no regard to treaties and continued their depredations. again, in the year , the tzar prepared another expedition to check their ravages. he announced to the council, in a very solemn session, that the time had arrived when it was necessary, at all hazards, to check the pride of the horde. "god is my witness," said he, "that i do not seek vain glory, but i wish to secure the repose of my people. how shall i be able in the day of judgment to say to the most high, 'behold me and the subjects thou hast entrusted to my care,' if i do not shelter them from the eternal enemies of russia, from these barbarians from whom one can have neither peace nor truce?" the lords endeavored to persuade the emperor to remain at moscow, and to entrust the expedition to his experienced generals, but he declared that he would not expose his army to perils and fatigues which he was not also ready and willing to share. though many were in favor of a winter's campaign, as kezan was surrounded with streams and lakes which the ice would then bridge, yet ivan decided upon the summer as more favorable for the transportation of his army down the rivers. by the latter part of may the waters of the volga and the oka were covered with bateaux laden with artillery and with military stores, and the banks of those streams were crowded with troops upon the march. nigni novgorod, where the oka empties into the volga, was as usual the appointed place of rendezvous. the th of june ivan took leave of the empress anastasia. her emotion at parting was so great that she fell fainting into the arms of her husband. from his palace ivan proceeded to the church of the assumption, where the blessing of heaven was implored, and then issuing orders that the bishops, all over the empire, should offer prayers daily for the success of the expedition, he mounted his horse, and accompanied by the cavalry of his guard, took the route to kolumna, a city on the oka, about a hundred miles south of moscow. it will be remembered that the tartar horde existed in several vast encampments. one of these encampments occupied tauride, as the region north of the crimea, and including that peninsula, was then called. these barbarians, thinking that the russian army was now five hundred miles west of moscow at kezan, and that the empire was thus defenseless, with a vast army of invasion were on the eager march for moscow. ivan at kolumna heard joyfully of their approach, for he was prepared to meet them and to chastise them with merited severity. on the d of july, the horde, unconscious of their danger, surrounded the walls of toola, a city about a hundred miles south of kolumna. ivan himself, heading a division of the army, fell fiercely upon them, and the tartars were totally routed, losing artillery, camels, banners and a large number of prisoners. they were pursued a long distance as in wild rout they fled back to their own country. this brilliant success greatly elated the army. ivan iv., sending his trophies to moscow, as an encouragement to the capital, again put his army in motion towards kezan. the relation which existed between the sovereign and his pastor, the faithful metropolitan bishop, may be inferred from the following communications which passed between them, equally worthy of them both. "may the soul of your majesty," wrote the metropolitan, "remain pure and chaste. be humble in prosperity and courageous in adversity. the piety of a sovereign saves and blesses his empire." the tzar replied, "worthy pastor of the church, we thank you for your christian instructions. we will engrave them on our heart. continue to us your wise counsels, and aid us also with your prayers. we advance against the enemy. may the lord soon enable us to secure peace and repose to the christians." on the th of august, with his assembled army, he reached viask on the volga, about fifty miles above kezan. here he encamped to concentrate and rest his troops after so long a march. barges freighted with provisions, merchandise and munitions of war, were incessantly arriving from the vast regions watered by the volga and the oka. as by magic an immense city spread out over the green plain. tents glistened in the sun, banners waved, and horsemen and footmen, in all the gorgeous panoply of war, extended as far as the eye could reach. while resting here, ivan iv. sent an embassy to kezan, saying that the tzar sought their repentance and amendment, not their destruction; that if they would deliver up to punishment the authors of sedition, and would give satisfactory pledges of future friendliness, they might live in peace under the paternal government of the tzar. to this message a contemptuous and defiant response was returned by the tartar khan. the answer was closed with these words: "we are anxiously awaiting your arrival, and are all ready to commence our festivities." that very day, the russian army, amounting to one hundred and fifty thousand men, arrived within sight of kezan. a prairie four miles in width, carpeted with flowers, extended from the volga to the range of mountains at the base of which the city stood. the tartars, abounding in wealth, by the aid of engineers and architects from all lands, had surrounded the city with massive walls defended with towers, ramparts and bastions in the most formidable strength of military art as then known. within the walls rose the minarets of innumerable mosques and the turrets of palaces embellished with all the gorgeousness of oriental wealth and taste. the horde, relying upon the strength of their fortification, remained behind their walls, where they prepared for a defense which they doubted not would be successful. two days were employed in disembarking the artillery and the munitions of war. while thus engaged, a deserter escaped from the city and announced to the tzar that the fortress was abundantly supplied with artillery, provisions and all means of defense; that the garrison consisted of thirty-two thousand seven hundred veteran soldiers; that a numerous corps of cavalry had been detached to scour the surrounding country and raise an army of cavalry and infantry to assail the besiegers in flank and rear, while the garrisons should be prepared to sally from their entrenchments. on the d of august, at the dawn of day, the army, advancing from the river, approached the city. the moment the sun appeared in the horizon, at the sound of innumerable trumpets, the whole army arrested their steps and the sacred standard was unfurled, presenting the effigy of jesus christ, our saviour, surmounted by a golden cross. ivan iv. and his staff alighted from their horses, and, beneath the shadow of the banner, with prayers and other exercises of devotion, received the sacrament of the lord's supper. the monarch then rode along the ranks, and, in an impassioned harangue, roused the soldiers to the noblest enthusiasm. exalting the glory of those who might fall in the defense of religion, he assured them in the name of russia that their wives and their children should never be forgotten, but that they should be the objects of his special care and should ever enjoy protection and abundance. in conclusion, he assured them that he was determined to sacrifice his own life, if necessary, to secure the triumph of the cross. these words were received with shouts of acclaim. the chaplain of ivan, elevated in the view of the whole army, pronounced a solemn benediction upon the sovereign and upon all the troops, and then bowing to the sacred standard, exclaimed, "o lord, it is in thy name we now march against the infidels." with waving banners and pealing trumpets, the army was now conducted before the walls of the city. every thing there seemed abandoned and in profound silence and solitude. not the slightest movement could be perceived. not an individual appeared upon the walls. many of the russians began to rejoice, imagining that the tzar of kezan, struck with terror, had fled with all his army into the forest. but the generals, more experienced, suspected a snare, and regarded the aspect of affairs as a motive for redoubled prudence. with great caution they made their dispositions for commencing the siege. as a division of seven thousand troops were crossing a bridge which they had thrown over a ditch near the walls, suddenly a violent uproar succeeded the profound silence which had reigned in the city. the air was filled with cries of rage. the massive gates rolled open upon their hinges, and fifteen thousand mounted tartars, armed to the teeth, rushed upon the little band with a shock utterly resistless, and, in a few moments, the russians were cut to pieces in the presence of the whole army. the victorious tartars, having achieved this signal exploit, swept back again into the city and the gates were closed. this event taught the russians prudence. anticipating a long siege, a city of tents was reared, with its streets and squares, beyond the reach of the guns from the walls. three churches of canvas were constructed, where worship was daily held. day after day, the siege was conducted with the usual events witnessed around a beleaguered fortress. there were the thunderings of artillery, the explosion of mines, fierce and bloody sorties, the shrieks of the combatants, and the city ever burning by flames enkindled by red hot shot thrown over the walls. the russian batteries grew every day more and more formidable, and the ramparts crumbled beneath their blows. the russian army was so numerous that the soldiers relieved themselves at the batteries, and the bombardment was continued day and night. at length a tartar army was seen descending the distant mountains and hastening to the relief of the garrison. ivan dispatched one half his army to meet them. the tartars, after a sanguinary conflict, were cut to pieces. as the division returned covered with dust and blood, and exulting in their great achievement, ivan displayed the prisoners, the banners, and the spoil he had taken, before the walls of the city. a herald was then sent, to address these words to the besieged: "ivan promises you life, liberty and pardon for the past, if you will submit yourselves to him." the response returned was, "we had rather die by our own pure hands, than perish by those of miserable christians." this answer was followed by a storm of all the missiles of war. the monarch, wishing as far as possible to save the city from destruction, and to avoid the effusion of blood, directed a german engineer to sink a mine under an important portion of the walls. the miners proceeded until they could hear the footsteps of the kezanians over their heads. eleven tons of powder were placed in the vault. on the th of september the match was applied. the explosion was awful. large portions of the wall, towers, buildings, rocks, the mutilated bodies of men, were thrown hundreds of feet into the air and fell upon the city, crushing the dwellings and the inhabitants. the besieged were seized with mortal terror, not knowing to what to attribute so dire a calamity. the russians, who were prepared for the explosion, waving their swords, with loud outcries rushed in at the breach. but the kezanians, soon recovering from their consternation, with their breasts and their artillery presented a new rampart, and beat back the foe. thus, day after day, the horrible carnage continued. within the city and without the city, death held high carnival. there were famine and pestilence and misery in all imaginable forms within the walls. in the camp of the besiegers, there were mutilation, and death's agonies and despair. army after army of tartars came to the help of the besieged, but they were mown down mercilessly by russian sabers, and trampled beneath russian hoofs. ivan, morning and evening, with his generals, entered the church to implore the blessing of god upon his enterprise. in no other way could he rescue russia from the invasion of these barbarians, than by thus appealing to the energies of the sword. in the contemplation of such a tragedy, the mind struggles in bewilderment, and can only say, "be still and know that i am god." chapter xiv. the reign of ivan iv.--continued. from to . siege of kezan.--artifices of war.--the explosion of mines.--the final assault.--complete subjugation of kezan.--gratitude and liberality of the tzar.--return to moscow.--joy of the inhabitants.--birth of an heir to the crown.--insurrection in kezan.--the insurrection quelled.--conquest of astrachan.--the english expedition in search of a north-east passage to india.--the establishment at archangel.--commercial relations between france and russia.--russian embassy to england.--extension of commerce. the russians had now been a month before the walls of kezan. ten thousand of the defenders had already been slain. the autumnal sun was rapidly declining, and the storms of winter were approaching. secretly they now constructed, a mile and a half from the camp, an immense tower upon wheels, and rising higher than the walls of the city. upon the platform of this tower they placed sixteen cannon, of the largest caliber, which were worked by the most skillful gunners. in the night this terrible machine was rolled up to the walls, and with the first dawn of the morning opened its fire upon the dwellings and the streets. the carnage was at first horrible, but the besieged at length took refuge in subterranean walks and covered ways, where they indomitably continued the conflict. the artillery, placed upon the walls of kezan, were speedily dismounted by the batteries on the tower. a new series of mines beneath the walls were now constructed by the russian engineers, which were to operate with destructive power, hitherto unrecorded in the annals of war. on the st of october the tzar announced to the army that the mines were ready to be fired, and wished them to prepare for the general assault. while one half of the troops continued the incessant bombardment, the other half were assembled in the churches to purify themselves for the conflict by confession, penitence, prayer and the partaking of the sacrament of the lord's supper. the divisions then exchanged that the whole army might prostrate itself before god. ivan iv. himself retired with his confessor and passed several hours in earnest devotion. the night preceding the assault there was no repose in either camp. the kezanians, who were anxiously awaiting events, had perceived an extraordinary movement among the russians, as each battalion was guided to the spot whence it was to rush over the ruins immediately after the explosion. forty-eight tons _(tonneaux)_ of powder had been placed in the mines. the morning of the d of october dawned serene and cloudless. the earliest light revealed the russians and the kezanians each at their posts. the moment the sun appeared above the horizon the explosion took place. first the earth trembled and rose and fell for many miles as if shaken by an earthquake. a smothered roar, swelling into pealing thunder ensued, which appalled every mind. immense volumes of smoke, thick and suffocating, instantaneously rolled over the city and the beleaguering camp, converting day into night. a horrible melange of timbers, rocks, guns and mutilated bodies of men, women and children were hurled into the air through this storm cloud of war, and fell in hideous ruin alike upon the besiegers and the besieged. at the moment when the explosion took place, one of the bishops in the church was reading the words of our saviour foretelling the peaceful reign of fraternity and of heavenly love, "henceforth there shall be but one flock and one shepherd." strange contrast between the spirit of heaven and the woes of a fallen world! for a moment even the russians, though all prepared for the explosion, were paralyzed by its direful effects. but instantly recovering, they raised the simultaneous shout, "god is with us," and rushing over the debris, of ruin and blood, penetrated the city. the tartars met them with the fury of despair, appealing, in their turn, to allah and mohammed. soon the russian banner floated over tottering towers and blackened walls, though for many hours the battle raged with fierceness, which human energies can not exceed. prince vorotinsky, early in the afternoon, soiled with blood and blackened with smoke, rode from the ruins of the city into the presence of ivan, and bowing, said, "sire, rejoice; your bravery and your good fortune have secured the victory. kezan is ours. the khan is in your power, the people are slain or taken captive. unspeakable riches have fallen into our hands." "let god be glorified," cried ivan, raising his eyes and his hands to heaven. then taking the sacred standard in his own hands, he entered the city, planted the banner in one of the principal squares, ordered a _te deum_ there to be chanted, and then directed that upon that spot the foundation should be laid of the first christian temple. all the booty ivan surrendered to the army, saying, "the only riches i desire, are the repose and the honor of russia." then assembling his troops around him, he thus addressed them: "valiant lords, generals, officers, all of you who in this solemn day have suffered for the glory of god, for religion, your country and your emperor, you have acquired immortal glory. never before did a people develop such bravery; never before was so signal a victory gained. how can i suitably reward your glorious actions? "and you who repose on the field of honor, noble children of russia, you are already in the celestial realms, in the midst of christian martyrs and all resplendent with glory. this is the recompense with which god has rewarded you. but as for us, it is our duty to transmit your names to future ages, and the sacred list in which they shall be enrolled shall be placed in the temple of the lord, that they may ever live in the memory of men. "you, who bathed in your blood, still live to experience the effects of my love and my gratitude; all of you brave warriors now before me, listen attentively to my words, and repose perfect confidence in the promises i make to you this day, that i will cherish you and protect you to the end of my life." these were not idle words. ivan personally visited the wounded, cheered them with his sympathy, and ever after watched over them with parental care. his brother-in-law, daniel, was immediately sent an envoy to the empress and to the metropolitan bishop, to inform them of the victory. the day was closed by a festival, in a gorgeous tent, where all the principal officers and lords were invited to dine with the tzar. a proclamation was addressed to all the tribes and nations of the conquered region. "come," said the russian tzar, "without fear to me. the past is forgotten; for perfidy has received its reward. i shall require of you only the tribute which you have heretofore paid to the tzars of kezan." on the d of october the dead were buried and the whole city was cleansed. the next day, ivan, accompanied by his clergy, his council and the chiefs of his army, made his triumphal entrance, and laid, on the designated spot, the corner-stone of the cathedral church of the visitation. he also made the tour of the city, bearing the sacred banner, and consecrating kezan to the true god. the clergy sprinkled holy water upon the streets and upon the walls of the houses, imploring the benediction of heaven upon this new rampart of christianity. they prayed that the inhabitants might be preserved from all maladies, that they might be strengthened to repel every enemy, and that the city might for ever remain the glorious heritage of russia. having traversed the whole city and designated the places for the erection of churches, the tzar gave orders for the immediate rebuilding of the fortifications, and then, accompanied by his court, he took possession of the palace of the khan, over which now floated the banners of the cross. it was thus that one of the most considerable principalities of the descendants of genghis khan fell into the hands of russia. kezan was founded upon the ruins of ancient bulgaria, and, situated upon the frontiers of russia, had long filled the empire with terror. ivan immediately established a new government for the city and the surrounding region, which was occupied by five different nations, powerful in numbers and redoubtable in war. an army of about ten thousand men was left to garrison the fortresses of the city. on the th of october the emperor prepared to return to moscow. many of the lords counseled that he should remain at kezan until spring, that the more distant regions might be overawed by the presence of the army. but the monarch, impatient to see his spouse and to present himself in moscow fresh from these fields of glory, rejected these sage counsels and adopted the advice of those who also wished to repose beneath the laurels they had already acquired. passing the night of the th of october on the banks of the volga, he embarked on the morning of the th in a barge to ascend the stream, while the cavalry followed along upon the banks. the emperor passed one day at sviazk and then proceeded to nigni novgorod. the whole city, men, women and children, flocked to meet him. they could not find words strong enough to express their gratitude for their deliverance from the terrible incursions of the horde. they fell at their monarch's feet, bathed his hands with their tears and implored heaven's blessing upon him. from nigni novgorod the emperor took the land route through balakna and vladimir to moscow. on the way he met a courier from the empress anastasia, announcing to him that she had given birth to a son whom she named dmitri. the tzar, in the tumult of his joy, leaped from his horse, passionately embraced trakhaniot, the herald, and then falling upon his knees with tears trickling down his cheeks, rendered thanks to god for the gift. not knowing how upon the spot to recompense the herald for the blissful tidings, he took the royal cloak from his own shoulders and spread it over trakhaniot, and passed into his hands the magnificent charger from which the monarch had just alighted. he spent the night of the th of october in a small village but a few miles from moscow, all things being prepared for his triumphant entrance into the capital the next day. with the earliest light of the morning he advanced toward the city. the crowd, even at that early hour, was so great that, for a distance of four miles, there was but a narrow passage left through the dense ranks of the people for the tzar and his guard. the emperor advanced slowly, greeted by the acclaim of more than a million of his people. with uncovered head he bowed to the right and to the left, while the multitude incessantly cried, "may heaven grant long life to our pious tzar, conqueror of barbarians and saviour of christians." at the gate he was met by the metropolitan, the bishops, the lords and the princes ranged in order of procession under the sacred banner. ivan iv. dismounted and addressed them in touching words of congratulation. the response of the metropolitan was soulfull, flooding the eyes of the monarch and exciting all who heard it to the highest enthusiasm. "as for us, o tzar," he said, in conclusion, "in testimony of our gratitude for your toils and your glorious exploits, we prostrate ourselves before you." at these words the metropolitan, the clergy, the dignitaries and the people fell upon their knees before their sovereign, bowing their faces to the ground. there were sobbings and shoutings, cries of benedictions and transports of joy. the monarch was now conducted to the kremlin, which had been rebuilt, and attended mass in the church of the assumption. he then hastened to the palace to greet his spouse. the happy mother was in the chamber of convalescence with her beautiful boy at her side. for once, at least, there was joy in a palace. the enthusiasm which reigned in the capital and throughout all russia was such as has never been surpassed. the people, trained to faith and devotion, crowded the churches, which were constantly open, addressing incessant thanksgivings to heaven. the preachers exhausted the powers of eloquence in describing the grandeur of the actions of their prince--his exertions, fatigues, bravery, the stratagems of war during the siege, the despairing ferocity of the kezanians and the final and glorious result. after several days passed in the bosom, of his family, ivan gave a grand festival in his palace, on the th of november. the metropolitan, the bishops, the abbés, the princes, and all the lords and warriors who had distinguished themselves during the siege of kezan, were invited. "never," say the annalists, "had there before been seen at moscow a fête so sumptuous, joy so intense, or liberality so princely." the fête continued for three days, during which the emperor did not cease to distribute, with a liberal hand, proofs of his munificence. his bounty was extended from the metropolitan bishop down to the humblest soldier distinguished for his bravery or his wounds. the monarch, thus surrounded with glory, beloved by his people, the conqueror of a foreign empire and the pacificator of his own, distinguished for the nobleness of his personal character and the grandeur of his exploits, alike wise as a legislator and humane as a man, was still but twenty-two years of age. his career thus far presents a phenomenon quite unparalleled in history. as soon as anastasia was able to leave her couch she accompanied the tzar to the monastery of yroitzky, where his infant son dmitri received the ordinance of baptism. it seems to be the doom of life that every calm should be succeeded by a storm; that days of sunshine should be followed by darkness and tempests. early in the year tidings reached moscow that the barbarians at kezan were in bloody insurrection. the russian troops had been worsted in many conflicts; very many of them were slain. the danger was imminent that the insurrection would prove successful, and that the russians would be entirely exterminated from kezan. the imprudence of the emperor, in withdrawing before the conquest was consolidated, was now apparent to all. to add to the consternation the monarch himself was suddenly seized with an inflammatory fever; the progress of the malady was so rapid that almost immediately his life was despaired of. the mind of the tzar was unclouded, and being informed of his danger, without any apparent agitation he called for his secretary to draw up his last will and testament. the monarch nominated for his successor his infant son, dmitri. to render the act more imposing, he requested the lords, who were assembled in an adjoining saloon, to take the oath of allegiance to his son. immediately the spirit of revolt was manifested. many of the lords dreaded the long minority of the infant prince, and the government of the regency which would probably ensue. the contest, loud and angry, reached the ears of the king, and he sent for the refractory lords to approach his bedside. ivan, burning with fever, with hardly strength to speak, and expecting every hour to die, turned his eyes to them reproachfully and said, "who then do you wish to choose for your tzar? i am too feeble to speak long. dmitri, though in his cradle, is none the less your legitimate sovereign. if you are deaf to the voice of conscience you must answer for it before god." one of the nobles frankly responded, "sire, we are all devoted to you and to your son. but we fear the regency of yourief, who will undoubtedly govern russia in the name of an infant who has not yet attained his intellectual faculties. this is the true cause of our solicitude. to how many calamities were we not exposed during the government of the lords, before your majesty had attained the age of reason. it is necessary to avoid the recurrence of such woes." the monarch was now too feeble to speak, and the nobles withdrew from his chamber. some took the oath to obey the will of the sovereign, others refused, and the bitter strife extended through the city and the kingdom. the dissentients rallied round prince vladimir, and the nation was threatened with civil war. the next day the tzar had revived a little, and again assembled the lords in his chamber and entreated them to take the oath of submission to his son and to anastasia, the guardian of the infant prince. overcome by the exertion the monarch sank into a state of lethargy, and to all seemed to be dying. but being young, temperate and vigorous, it proved but the crisis of the disease. he awoke from his sleep calm and decidedly convalescent. deeply wounded by the unexpected opposition which he had encountered, he yet manifested no spirit of revenge, though anastasia, with woman's more sensitive nature, could never forget the opposition which had been manifested towards herself and her child. ivan during his sickness had made a vow that, in case of recovery, he would visit, in homage, the monastery of st. cyrille, some thousand miles distant beyond the waves of the volga. it is pleasant to record the remonstrance which maxime, one of the clergy, made against the fulfillment of his wishes. "you are about," said he, "to undertake a dangerous journey with your spouse and your infant child. can the fulfillment of a vow which reason disapproves, be agreeable to god? it is useless to seek in deserts that heavenly father who fills the universe with his presence. if you desire to testify to heaven the gratitude you feel, do good upon the throne. the conquest of kezan, an event so propitious for russia, has nevertheless caused the death of many christians. the widows, the mothers, the orphans of warriors who fell upon the field of honor, are overwhelmed with affliction. endeavor to comfort them and to dry their tears by your beneficence. these are the deeds pleasing to god and worthy of a tzar." nevertheless the monarch persisted in his plan, and entered upon the long journey. he buried his child by the way, and returned overwhelmed with grief. but he encountered a greater calamity than the death of the young prince, in bad advice which he received from vassian, the aged and venerable prince of kolumna. "sire," said this unwise ecclesiastic, "if you wish to become a monarch truly absolute, ask advice of no one, and deem no one wiser than yourself. establish it as an irrevocable principle never to receive the counsels of others, but, on the contrary, give counsel to them. command, but never obey. then you will be a true sovereign, terrible to the lords. remember that the counselors of the wisest princes always in the end dominate over them." the subtle poison which this discourse distilled, penetrated the soul of ivan. he seized the hand of vassian, pressed it to his lips, and said, "my father himself could not have given me advice more salutary." bitterly was the prince deceived. experience has proved that, in the counsel of the wise and virtuous, there is safety. there was no sudden change in the character of ivan. he still continued for some years to manifest the most sincere esteem for the opinions of sylvestre and adachef. but the poison of bad principles was gradually diffusing itself through his heart. a year had not passed away, ere ivan was consoled by the birth of another son. in the meantime he devoted himself with ardor to measures for the restoration of tranquillity in kezan. a numerous army was assembled at nigni novgorod, with orders to commence the campaign for the reconquest of the country as soon as the cold of winter should bridge the lakes and streams. the tartars had made very vigorous efforts to repel their foes, by summoning every fighting man to the field, and by the construction of fortresses and throwing up of redoubts. in november of , the storm of battle was recommenced on fields of ice, and amidst smothering tempests of snow. for more than a month there was not a day without a conflict. in these incessant engagements the tartars lost ten thousand men slain and six thousand prisoners. one thousand six hundred of the most distinguished of these prisoners, princes, nobles and chieftains, who had been the most conspicuous in the rebellion, were put to death. nevertheless these severities did not stifle the insurrection; the tartars, in banditti bands, even crossing the volga, pillaging, massacring and burning with savage cruelty. for five years the war raged in kezan, with every accompaniment of ferocity and misery. the country was devastated and almost depopulated. hardly a chief of note was left alive. the horrors of war then ceased. the russians took possession of the country, filled it with their own emigrants, reared churches, established christianity, and spread over the community the protection of russian law. most of the kezanians who remained embraced christianity, and from that time kezan, the ancient bulgaria, has remained an integral portion of the russian empire. soon after, a new conquest, more easy, but not less glorious, was added to that of kezan. the city and province of astrachan, situated at the mouth of the volga as it enters the caspian, had existed from the remotest antiquity, enjoying wealth and renown, even before the foundation of the russian empire. in the third century of the christian era, it was celebrated for its commerce, and it became one of the favorite capitals of the all-conquering tartars. russia, being now in possession of all the upper waters of the volga, decided to extend their dominions down the river to the caspian. it was not difficult to find ample causes of complaint against pagan and barbaric hordes, whose only profession was robbery and war. early in the spring of a numerous and choice army descended the volga in bateaux to the delta on which astrachan is built. the low lands, intersected by the branching stream, is composed of innumerable islands. the inhabitants of the city, abandoning the capital entirely, took refuge among these islands, where they enjoyed great advantages in repelling assailants. the russians took possession of the city, prosecuted the war vigorously through the summer, and the tzar, on the th of october, which was his birthday, received the gratifying intelligence that every foe was quelled, and that the russian government was firmly established on the shores of the caspian. well might russia now be proud of its territorial greatness. the opening of these new realms encouraged commerce, promoted wealth, and developed to an extraordinary degree the resources of the empire. england was, at that time, far beyond the bounds of the political horizon of russia. in fact, the russians hardly knew that there was such a nation. great britain was not, at that time, a maritime power of the first order. spain, portugal, venice and genoa were then the great monarchs of the ocean. england was just beginning to become the dangerous rival of those states whom she has already so infinitely surpassed in maritime greatness. she had then formed the project of opening a shorter route to the indies through the north sea, and, in , during the reign of edward vi., had dispatched an expedition of three vessels, under hugh willoughby, in search of a north-east passage. these vessels, separated by a tempest, were unable to reunite, and two of them were wrecked upon the icy coast of russian lapland in the extreme latitude of eighty degrees north. willoughby and his companions perished. some lapland fishermen found their remains in the winter of the year . willoughby was seated in a cabin constructed upon the shore with his journal before him, with which he appeared to have been occupied until the moment of his death. the other ship, commanded by captain chanceller, was more fortunate. he penetrated the white sea, and, on the th of august, landed in the bay of dwina at the russian monastery of st. nicholas, where now stands the city of archangel. the english informed the inhabitants, who were astonished at the apparition of such a ship in their waters, that they were bearers of a letter to the tzar from the king of england, who desired to establish commercial relations with the great and hitherto almost unknown northern empire. the commandant of the country furnished the mariners with provisions, and immediately dispatched a courier to ivan at moscow, which was some six hundred miles south of the bay of dwina. ivan iv. wisely judged that this circumstance might prove favorable to russian commerce, and immediately sent a courier to invite chanceller to come to moscow, at the same time making arrangements for him to accomplish the journey with speed and comfort. chanceller, with some of his officers, accepted the invitation. arriving at moscow, the english were struck with astonishment in view of the magnificence of the court, the polished address and the dignified manners of the nobles, the rich costume of the courtiers, and, particularly, with the jeweled and golden brilliance of the throne, upon which was seated a young monarch decorated in the most dazzling style of regal splendor, and in whose presence all observed the most respectful silence. chanceller presented to ivan iv. the letter of edward vi. it was a noble letter, worthy of england's monarch, and, being translated into many languages, was addressed generally to all the sovereigns of the east and the north. the letter was dated, "london, in the year of the creation, and of our reign the ." the english were honorably received, and were invited to dine with the tzar in the royal palace, which furnished them with a new occasion of astonishment from the sumptuousness which surrounded the sovereign. the guests, more than a hundred in number, were served on plates of gold. the goblets were of the same metal. the servants, one hundred and fifty in number, were also in livery richly decorated with gold lace. the tzar wrote to edward that he desired to form with him an alliance of friendship conformable to the precepts of the christian religion and of every wise government; that he was anxious to do any thing in his power which should be agreeable to the king of england, and that the english embassadors and merchants who might come to russia should be protected, treated as friends and should enjoy perfect security. when chanceller returned to england, edward vi. was already in the tomb, and mary, _bloody mary_, the child of brutal henry viii., was on the throne. the letter of ivan iv. caused intense excitement throughout england. every one spoke of russia as of a country newly discovered, and all were eager to obtain information respecting its history and its geography. an association of merchants was immediately formed to open avenues of commerce with this new world. another expedition of two ships was fitted out, commanded by chanceller, to conclude a treaty of commerce with the tzar. mary, and her husband, philip of spain, who was son of the emperor charles v., wrote a letter to the russian monarch full of the most gracious expressions. chanceller and his companions were received with the same cordial hospitality as before. ivan gave them a seat at his own table, loaded them with favors and gave to the queen of england the title of "my dearly beloved sister." a commission of russian merchants was appointed to confer with the english to form a commercial treaty. it was decided that the principal place for the exchange of merchandise should be at kolmogar, on the bay of dwina, nearly opposite the convent of st. nicholas; that each party should be free to name its own prices, but that every kind of fraud should be judged after the criminal code of russia. ivan then delivered to the english a diploma, granting them permission to traffic freely in all the cities of russia without molestation and without paying any tribute or tax. they were free to establish themselves wherever they pleased to purchase houses and shops, and to engage servants and mechanics in their employ, and to exact from them oaths of fidelity. it was also agreed that a man should be responsible for his own conduct only, and not for that of his agents, and that though the sovereign might punish the criminal with the loss of liberty and even of life, yet, under no circumstances, should he touch his property; that should always pass to his natural heirs. the port of st. nicholas, which, for ages, had been silent and solitary in these northern waters where the english had found but a poor and gloomy monastery, the tomb, as it were, of hooded monks, soon became a busy place of traffic. the english constructed there a large and beautiful mansion for the accommodation of their merchants, and streets were formed, lined with spacious storehouses. the principal merchandise which the english then imported into russia consisted of cloths and sugar. the merchants offered twelve guineas for what was then called a half piece of cloth, and four shillings a pound for sugar. in , chanceller embarked for england with four ships richly laden with the gold and the produce of russia, accompanied by joseph nepeia, an embassador to the queen of england. fortune, which, until then, had smiled upon this hardy mariner, now turned adverse. tempests dispersed his ships, and one only reached london. chanceller himself perished in the waves upon the coast of scotland. the ships dashed upon the rocks, and the russian embassador, nepeia, barely escaped with his life. arriving at london, he was overwhelmed with caresses and presents. the most distinguished dignitaries of the state and one hundred and forty merchants, accompanied by a great number of attendants, all richly clad and mounted upon superb horses, rode out to meet him. they presented to him a horse magnificently caparisoned, and thus escorted, the first russian embassador made his entrance into the capital of great britain. the inhabitants of london crowded the streets to catch a sight of the illustrious russian, and thousands of voices greeted him with the heartiest acclaim. a magnificent mansion was assigned for his residence, which was furnished in the highest style of splendor. he was invited to innumerable festivals, and the court were eager to exhibit to him every thing worthy of notice in the city of london. he was conducted to the cathedral of st. paul, to westminster abbey, to the tower and to all the parks and palaces. the queen received nepeia with the most marked consideration. at one of the most gorgeous festivals he was seated by her side, the observed of all observers. the embassador could only regret that the rich presents of furs and russian fabrics which the tzar had sent by his hand to mary, were all engulfed upon the coast of scotland. the queen sent to the tzar the most beautiful fabrics of the english looms, the most exquisitely constructed weapons of war, such as sabers, guns and pistols, and a living lion and lioness, animals which never before had been seen within the bounds of the russian empire. in september, , nepeia embarked for russia, taking with him several english artisans, miners and physicians. ivan was anxious to lose no opportunity to gain from foreign lands every thing which could contribute to russian civilization. the letter which mary and philip returned to moscow was flatteringly addressed to the august emperor, ivan iv. when the tzar learned all the honors and the testimonials of affection with which his embassador had been greeted in london, he considered the english as the most precious of all the friends of russia. he ordered mansions to be prepared for the accommodation of their merchants in all the commercial cities of the empire, and he treated them in other respects with such marked tokens of regard, that all the letters which they wrote to london were filled with expressions of gratitude towards the russian sovereign. in the year an english commercial fleet entered the baltic sea and proceeded to the mouth of the dwina to establish there an entrepot of english merchandise. the commander-in-chief of the squadron visited moscow, where he was received with the greatest cordiality, and thence passed down the volga to astrachan, that he might there establish commercial relations with persia. the tzar, reposing entire confidence in the london merchants, entered into their views and promised to grant them every facility for the transportation of english merchandise, even to the remotest sections of the empire. this commercial alliance with great britain, founded upon reciprocal advantages, without any commingling of political jealousies, was impressed with a certain character of magnanimity and fraternity which greatly augmented the renown of the reign of ivan iv., and which was a signal proof of the sagacity of his administration. how beautiful are the records of peace when contrasted with the hideous annals of war! the merchants of the other nations of southern and western europe were not slow to profit by the discovery that the english had made. ships from holland, freighted with the goods of that ingenious and industrious people, were soon coasting along the bays of the great empire, and penetrating her rivers, engaged in traffic which neither russia or england seemed disposed to disturb. while the tzar was engaged in those objects which we have thus rapidly traced, other questions of immense magnitude engrossed his mind. the tartar horde in tauride terrified by the destruction of the horde in kezan, were ravaging southern russia with continual invasions which the tzar found it difficult to repress. poland was also hostile, ever watching for an opportunity to strike a deadly blow, and sweden, under gustavus vasa, was in open war with the empire. chapter xv. the abdication of ivan iv. from to . terror of the horde in tauride.--war with gustavus vasa of sweden.--political punctilios.--the kingdom of livonia annexed to sweden.--death of anastasia.--conspiracy against ivan.--his abdication.--his resumption of the crown.--invasion of russia by the tartars and turks.--heroism of zerebrinow.--utter discomfiture of the tartars.--relations between queen elizabeth of england, and russia.--intrepid embassage.--new war with poland.--disasters of russia.--the emperor kills his own son.--anguish of ivan iv. the entire subjugation of the tartars in kezan terrified the horde in tauride, lest their turn to be overwhelmed should next come. devlet ghirei, the khan of this horde, was a man of great ability and ferocity. ivan iv. was urged by his counselors immediately to advance to the conquest of the crimea. the achievement could then doubtless have been easily accomplished. but it was a journey of nearly a thousand miles from moscow to tauride. the route was very imperfectly known; much of the intervening region was an inhospitable wilderness. the sultan of turkey was the sovereign master of the horde, and ivan feared that all the terrible energies of turkey would be roused against him. there was, moreover, another enemy nearer at home whom ivan had greater cause to fear. gustavus vasa, the king of sweden, had, for some time, contemplated with alarm the rapidly increasing power of russia. he accordingly formed a coalition with the kings of poland and livonia, and with the powerful dukes of prussia and of denmark, for those two states were then but dukedoms, to oppose the ambition of the tzar. an occasion for hostilities was found in a dispute, respecting the boundaries between russia and sweden. the terrible tragedy of war was inducted by a prologue of burning villages, trampled harvests and massacred peasants, upon the frontiers. sieges, bombardments and fierce battles ensued, with the alternations of success. from one triumphal march of invasion into sweden, the russians returned so laden with prisoners, that, as their annalists record, a man was sold for one dollar, and a girl for five shillings. at length, as usual, both parties became weary of toil and blood, and were anxious for a respite. gustavus proposed terms of reconciliation. ivan iv. accepted the overtures, though he returned a reproachful and indignant answer. "your people," he wrote, "have exhausted their ferocity upon our territories. not only have they burned our cities and massacred our subjects, but they have even profaned our churches, purloined our images and destroyed our bells. the inhabitants of novgorod implored the aid of our grand army. my soldiers burned with impatience to carry the war to stockholm, but i restrained them; so anxious was i to avoid the effusion of human blood. all the misery resulting from this war, is to be attributed to your pride. admitting that you were ignorant of the grandeur of novgorod, you might have learned the facts from your own merchants. they could have told you, that even the suburbs of novgorod are superior to the whole of your capital of stockholm. lay aside this pride, and give up your quarrelsome disposition. we are willing to live in peace with you." sweden was not in a condition to resent this rebuke. in february, , the embassadors of gustavus, consisting of four of the most illustrious men in the empire, clergy and nobles, accompanied by a brilliant suite, arrived in moscow. they were not received as friends, but as distinguished prisoners, who were to be treated with consideration, and whose wants were to be abundantly supplied. the tzar refused to have any direct intercourse with them, and would only treat through the dignitaries of his court. a truce was concluded for forty years. the tzar, to impress the embassadors with his wealth and grandeur, entertained them sumptuously, and they were served from vessels of gold. though peace was thus made with sweden, a foolish quarrel, for some time, prevented the conclusion of a treaty with poland. ivan iv. demanded, that augustus, _king_ of poland, should recognize him as _emperor_ of russia. augustus replied, that there were but two emperors in the world, the emperor of germany and the sultan of turkey. ivan sent, through his embassadors, to augustus; the letters of pope clement, of the emperor maximilian, of the sultan, of the kings of spain, sweden and denmark, and the recent dispatch of the king of england, all of whom recognized his title of tzar, or emperor. still, the polish king would not allow ivan a title, which seemed to place the russian throne on an eminence above that of poland. unfriendly relations consequently continued, with jealousies and border strifes, though there was no vigorous outbreak of war. ivan iv. now succeeded in attaching livonia to the great and growing empire. it came in first as tributary, purchasing, by an annual contribution, peace with russia and protection. though there were many subsequent conflicts with livonia, the territory subsequently became an integral portion of the empire. russia had now become so great, that her growth was yearly manifest as surrounding regions were absorbed by her superior civilization and her armies. the unenlightened states which surrounded her, were ever provoking hostilities, invasion, and becoming absorbed. in the year , the tartars of tauride, having assembled an army of one hundred thousand horsemen, a combination of tartars and turks, suddenly entered russia, and sweeping resistlessly on, a war tempest of utter desolation, reached within two hundred miles of moscow. there they learned that ivan himself, with an army more numerous than their own, was on the march to meet them. turning, they retreated more rapidly than they advanced. notwithstanding their retreat, ivan resolved to pursue them to their own haunts. a large number of bateaux was constructed and launched upon the don and also upon the dnieper. the army, in these two divisions, descended these streams, one to the sea of azof, the other to the mouth of the dnieper. thence invading tauride, both by the east and the west, they drove the terrified inhabitants, taken entirely by surprise, like sheep before them. the tents of these nomads they committed to the flames. their flocks and herds were seized, with a great amount of booty, and many russian captives were liberated. the tartars fled to fastnesses whence they could not be pursued. some turks being taken with the horde, ivan sent them with rich presents to the sultan, stating that he did not make war against turkey, only against the robbers of tauride. the russian troops returned from this triumphant expedition, by ascending the waters of the dnieper. all russia was filled with rejoicing, while the churches resounded with "te deums." and now domestic griefs came to darken the palace of ivan. for thirteen years he had enjoyed all the happiness which conjugal love can confer. anastasia was still in the brilliance of youth and beauty, when she was attacked by dangerous sickness. as she was lying upon her couch, helpless and burning with fever, the cry of fire was heard. the day was excessively hot; the windows of the palace all open, and a drouth of several weeks made every thing dry as tinder. the conflagration commenced in an adjoining street, and, in a moment, volumes of flame and smoke were swept by the wind, enveloping the kremlin, and showering upon it and into it, innumerable flakes of fire. the queen was thrown into a paroxysm of terror; the attendants hastily placed her upon a litter and bore her, almost suffocated, through the blazing streets out of the city, to the village of kolomensk. the emperor then returned to assist in arresting the conflagration. he exposed himself like a common laborer, inspiring others with intrepidity by mounting ladders, carrying water and opposing the flames in the most dangerous positions. the conflagration proved awful in its ravages, many of the inhabitants perishing in the flames. this calamitous event was more than the feeble frame of anastasia could endure. she rapidly failed, and on the th of august, , she expired. the grief of ivan was heartrending, and never was national affliction manifested in a more sincere and touching manner. not only the whole court, but almost the entire city of moscow, followed the remains of anastasia to their interment. many, in the bitterness of their grief, sobbed aloud. the most inconsolable were the poor and friendless, calling anastasia by the name of mother. the anguish of ivan for a time quite unmanned him, and he wept like a child. the loss of anastasia did indeed prove to ivan the greatest of earthly calamities. she had been his guardian angel, his guide to virtue. having lost his guide, he fell into many errors from which anastasia would have preserved him. in the course of a few months, either the tears of ivan were dried up, or political considerations seemed to render it necessary for him to seek another wife. notwithstanding the long hereditary hostility which had existed between russia and poland, perhaps _in consequence of it_, ivan made proposals for a polish princess, catharine, sister of sigismond augustus, the king. the poles demanded, as an essential item in the marriage contract, that the children of catharine should take the precedence of those of anastasia as heirs to the throne. this iniquitous demand the tzar rejected with the scorn it merited. the revenge in which the poles indulged was characteristic of the rudeness of the times. the court of augustus sent a white mare, beautifully caparisoned, to ivan, with the message, that such a wife he would find to be in accordance with his character and wants. the outrageous insult incensed ivan to the highest degree, and he vowed that the poles should feel the weight of his displeasure. catharine, in the meantime, was married to the duke of finland, who was brother to the king of sweden, and whose sister was married to the king of denmark. thus the three kingdoms of poland, sweden and denmark, and the duchy of finland were strongly allied by matrimonial ties, and were ready to combine against the russian emperor. ivan iv. nursed his vengeance, waiting for an opportunity to strike a blow which should be felt. elizabeth was now queen of england, and her embassador at the court of russia was in high favor with the emperor. probably through his influence ivan showed great favor to the lutheran clergy, who were gradually gaining followers in the empire. he frequently admitted them to court, and even listened to their arguments in favor of the reformed religion. the higher clergy and the lords were much incensed by this liberality, which, in their view, endangered the ancient usages, both civil and religious, of the realm, and a very formidable conspiracy was organized against the tzar. ivan iv. was apprised of the conspiracy, and, with singular boldness and magnanimity, immediately assembled his leading nobles and higher clergy in the great audience-chamber of the kremlin. he presented himself before them in the glittering robes and with all the insignia of royalty. divesting himself of them all, he said to his astonished auditors, "you have deemed me unworthy any longer to occupy the throne. i here and now give in my abdication, and request you to nominate some person whom you may consider worthy to be your sovereign." without permitting any reply he dismissed them, and the next day convened all the clergy of moscow in the church of st. mary. a high mass was celebrated by the metropolitan, in which the monarch assisted, and he then took an affecting leave of them all, in a solemn renunciation of all claims to the crown. accompanied by his two sons, he retired to the strong yet secluded castle of caloujintz, situated about five miles from moscow. here he remained several days, waiting, it is generally supposed, for a delegation to call, imploring him again to resume the crown. in this expectation he was not disappointed. the lords were unprepared for such decisive action. in their councils there was nothing but confusion. anarchy was rapidly commencing its reign, which would be followed inevitably by civil war. the partisans of the emperor in the provinces were very numerous, and could be rallied by a word from him; and no one imagined that the emperor had any idea of retiring so peacefully. it was not doubted that he would soon appear at the head of an army, and punish relentlessly the disaffected, who would all then be revealed. the citizens, the nobles and the clergy met together and appointed a numerous deputation to call upon the emperor and implore him again to resume the reins of power. "your faithful subjects, sire," exclaimed the petitioners, "are deeply afflicted. the state is exposed to fearful peril from dissension within and enemies without. we do therefore most earnestly entreat your majesty, as a faithful shepherd, still to watch over his flock; we do entreat you to return to your throne, to continue your favor to the deserving, and not to forsake your faithful subjects in consequence of the errors of a few." ivan listened with much apparent indifference to this pathetic address, and either really felt, or affected, great reluctance again to resume the cares of royalty. he requested a day's time to consider their proposal. the next morning the nobles were again convened, and ivan acquainted them with his decision. rebuking them with severity for their ingratitude, reproaching them with the danger to which his life had been exposed through their conspiracy, he declared that he could not again assume the cares and the perils of the crown. still his refusal was not so decisive as to exclude all room for further entreaties. they renewed their supplications with tears, for russia was, indeed, exposed to all the horrors of civil war, should ivan persist in his resolve, and it was certain that the empire, thus distracted, would at once be invaded by both poles and turks. thus importuned, ivan at last consented to return to the kremlin. he resolved, however, to make an example of those who had conspired against him, which should warn loudly against the renewal of similar attempts. the principal movers in the plot were executed. ivan then surrounded himself with a body guard of two hundred men carefully selected from the distant provinces, and who were in no way under the influence of any of the lords. this body guard, composed of low-born, uneducated men, incapable of being roused to any high enthusiasm, subsequently proved quite a nuisance. ivan iv. had but just resumed his seat upon the throne when couriers from the southern provinces brought the alarming intelligence that an immense army of combined tartars and turks had invaded the empire and were on the rapid march, burning and destroying all before them. selim, the son and successor of solyman the magnificent, entered into an alliance with several oriental princes, who were to send him succors by the way of the caspian sea, and raised an army of three hundred thousand men. these troops were embarked at constantinople, and, crossing the black sea and the sea of azof, entered tauride. here they were joined by a reinforcement of crimean tartars, consisting of forty thousand well-armed and veteran fighters. with this force the sultan marched directly across the country to the russian city and province of astrachan, at the mouth of the volga. but a heroic man, zerebrinow, was in command of the fortresses in this remote province of the russian empire. he immediately assembled all his available troops, and, advancing to meet the foe, selected his own ground for the battle in a narrow defile where the vast masses of the enemy would only encumber each other. falling upon the invaders unexpectedly from ambuscades, he routed the turks with great carnage. they were compelled to retreat, having lost nearly all their baggage and heavy artillery. the triumphant russians pursued them all the way back to the city of azof, cannonading them with the artillery and the ammunition they had wrested from their foes. here the turks attempted to make a final stand, but a chance shot from one of the guns penetrated the immense powder magazine, and an explosion so terrific ensued that two thirds of the city were entirely demolished. the turks, in consternation, now made a rush for their ships. but zerebrinow, with coolness and sagacity which no horrors could disturb, had already planted his batteries to sweep them with a storm of bullets and balls. the cannonade was instantly commenced. the missiles of death fell like hail stones into the crowded boats and upon the crowded decks. many of the ships were sunk, others disabled, and but a few, torn and riddled, succeeded in escaping to sea, where the most of them also perished beneath the waves of the stormy euxine. such was the utter desolation of this one brief war tempest which lasted but a few weeks. queen elizabeth, anxious to maintain friendly relations with an empire so vast, and opening before her subjects such a field of profitable commerce, having been informed of the conspiracy against ivan iv., of his abdication, and of his resumption of the crown, sent to him an embassador with expressions of her kindest wishes, and assured him that should he ever be reduced to the disagreeable necessity of leaving his empire, he would find a safe retreat in england, where he would be received and provided for in a manner suitable to his dignity, where he could enjoy the free exercise of his religion and be permitted to depart whenever he should wish. the tolerant spirit manifested by ivan iv. towards the lutherans, continued to disturb the ecclesiastics; and the clergy and nobles of the province of novgorod, headed by the archbishop, formed a plot of dissevering novgorod from the empire, and attaching it to the kingdom of poland. this conspiracy assumed a very formidable attitude, and one of the brothers of the tzar was involved in it. ivan immediately sent an army of fifteen thousand men to quell the revolt. we have no account of this transaction but from the pens of those who were envenomed by their animosity to the religious toleration of ivan. we must consequently receive their narratives with some allowance. the army, according to their account, ravaged the whole province; took the city by storm; and cut down in indiscriminate slaughter twenty-five thousand men, women and children. the brother of ivan iv. was seized and thrown into prison, where he miserably perished. the archbishop was stripped of his canonical robes, clad in the dress of a harlequin, paraded through the streets on a gray mare, an object of derision to the people, and then was imprisoned for life. such cruelty does not seem at all in accordance with the character of ivan, while the grossest exaggeration is in accordance with the character of all civil and religious partisans. war with poland seems to have been the chronic state of russia. whenever either party could get a chance to strike the other a blow, the blow was sure to be given; and they were alike unscrupulous whether it were a saber blow in the face or a dagger thrust in the back. in the year , a russian army pursued a discomfited band of livonian insurgents across the frontier into poland. the poles eagerly joined the insurgents, and sent envoys to invite the crimean tartars to invade russia from tauride, while poland and livonia should assail the empire from the west. the tartars were always ready for war at a moment's notice. seventy thousand men were immediately on the march. they rapidly traversed the southern provinces, trampling down all opposition until they reached the oka. here they encountered a few russian troops who attempted to dispute the passage of the stream. they were, however, speedily overpowered by the tartars and were compelled to retreat. pressing on, they arrived within sixty miles of the city, when they found the russians again concentered, but now in large numbers, to oppose their progress. a fierce battle was fought. again the russians were overpowered, and the tartars, trampling them beneath their horses' hoofs, with yells of triumph, pressed on towards the metropolis. the whole city was in consternation, for it had no means of effectual resistance. ivan iv. in his terror packed up his most valuable effects, and, with the royal family, fled to a strong fortress far away in the north. from the battlements of the city, the banners of these terrible barbarians were soon seen on the approach. with bugle blasts and savage shouts they rushed in at the gates, swept the streets with their sabers, pillaged houses and churches, and set the city on fire in all directions. the city was at that time, according to the testimony of the cotemporary annalists, forty miles in circumference. the weltering flames rose and fell as in the crater of a volcano, and in six hours the city was in ashes. thousands perished in the flames. the fire, communicating with a powder magazine, produced an explosion which uphove the buildings like an earthquake, and prostrated more than a third of a mile of the city walls. according to the most reliable testimony, there perished in moscow, by fire and sword, from this one raid of the tartars, more than one hundred and fifty thousand of its inhabitants. the tartars, tottering beneath the burden of their spoil, and dragging after them many thousand prisoners of distinction, slowly, proudly, defiantly retired. with barbaric genius they sent to the tzar a naked cimiter, accompanied by the following message: "this is a token left to your majesty by an enemy, whose revenge is still unsatiated, and who will soon return again to complete the work which he has but just begun." such is war. it is but a succession of miseries. a hundred and fifty thousand tartars perished but a few months before in the waves of the euxine. now, a hundred and fifty thousand russians perish, in their turn, amidst the flames of moscow. when we contemplate the wars which have incessantly ravaged this globe, the history of man seems to be but the record of the strifes of demons, with occasional gleams of angel magnanimity. after the retreat of the tartars, ivan iv. convened a council of war, punished with death those officers who had fled before the enemy as he himself had done; and, rendered pliant by accumulated misfortune, he presented such overtures to the king of poland as to obtain the promise of a truce for three years. soon after this, sigismond, king of poland, died. the crown was elective, and the nobles, who met to choose a new monarch, by a considerable majority invited maximilian ii., emperor of germany, to assume the scepter. they assigned as a reason for this choice, which surprised europe, the religious liberality of the emperor, who, as they justly remarked, had conciliated the contending factions of the christian world, and had acquired more glory by his pacific policy than other princes had acquired in the exploits of war. a minority of the nobles were displeased with this choice, and refusing to accede to the vote of the majority, proceeded to another election, and chose stephen bathori, a warrior chief of transylvania, as their sovereign.[ ] the two parties now rallied around their rival candidates and prepared for war. ivan iv. could not allow so favorable an opportunity to interfere in the politics of poland to escape him. he immediately sent embassadors to maximilian, offering to assist him with all the power of the russian armies against stephen bathori. maximilian gratefully acknowledged the generosity of the tzar, and promised to return the favor whenever an opportunity should be presented. at the same time, stephen bathori, who had already been crowned king of poland, sent an embassador to moscow to inform ivan of his election and coronation, and to propose friendly relations with russia. ivan answered frankly that a treaty already existed between him and the emperor maximilian, but that, since he wished to live on friendly terms with poland, whoever her monarch might be, he would send embassadors to examine into the claims of the rival candidates for the crown. thus adroitly he endeavored to obtain for himself the position of umpire between maximilian and stephen bathori. the death of the emperor maximilian on the th of october, , settled this strife, and stephen attained the undisputed sovereignty of poland. [footnote : see empire of austria, page .] almost the first measure of the new sovereign, in accordance with hereditary usage, was war against russia. his object was to regain those territories which the tzar had heretofore wrested from the poles. apparently trivial incidents reveal the rude and fierce character of the times. stephen chivalrously sent first an embassador, basil lapotinsky, to the court of ivan, to demand the restitution of the provinces. lapotinsky was accompanied by a numerous train of nobles, magnificently mounted and armed to the teeth. as the glittering cavalcade, protected by its flag of truce, swept along through the cities of russia towards moscow, and it became known that they were the bearers of an imperious message, demanding the surrender of portions of the russian empire, the populace were with difficulty restrained from falling upon them. through a thousand dangers they reached moscow. when there, lapotinsky declared that he came not as a suppliant, but to present a claim which his master was prepared to enforce, if necessary, with the sword, and that, in accordance with the character of his mission, he was directed, in his audience with ivan, to present the letter with one hand while he held his unsheathed saber in the other. the officers of the imperial household assured him that such bravado would inevitably cost him his life. "the tzar," lapotinsky replied, "can easily take my life, and he may do so if he please, but nothing shall prevent me from performing the duty with which i am intrusted, with the utmost exactitude." the audience day arrived. lapotinsky was conducted to the kremlin. the tzar, in his imperial robes glittering with diamonds and pearls, received him in a magnificent hall. the haughty embassador, with great dignity and in respectful terms, yet bold and decisive, demanded reparation for the injuries which russia had inflicted upon poland. his gleaming saber was carelessly held in one hand and the letter to the tzar, from the king of poland, in the other. having finished his brief speech, he received a cimeter from one of his suite, and, advancing firmly, yet very respectfully, to the monarch, presented them both, saying, "here is peace and here is war. it is for your majesty to choose between them." ivan iv. was capable of appreciating the nobility of such a character. the intrepidity of the embassador, which was defiled with no comminglings of insolence, excited his admiration. the emperor, with a smile, took the letter, which was written on parchment in the russian language and sealed with a seal of gold. slowly and carefully he read it, and then addressing the embassador, said, "such menaces will not induce russia to surrender her dominions to poland. we, who have vanquished the poles on so many fields of battle, who have conquered the tartars of kezan and astrachan, and who have triumphed over the forces of the ottoman empire, will soon cause the king of poland to repent his rashness." he then dismissed the embassador, ordering him to be treated with the respect due his high station. war being thus formally declared, both parties prepared to prosecute it with the utmost vigor. the tzar immediately commenced raising a large army, reinforced his garrisons, and sent a secret envoy to tauride, to excite the crimean tartars to invade poland on the south-east while russia should make an assault from the north. the poles opened the campaign by crossing the frontiers with a large army, seizing several minor cities and laying siege to the important fortress of polotzk. after a long siege, which constituted one of those terrific tragedies of blood and woe with which the pages of history are filled, but which no pen can describe and no imagination can conceive, the city, a pile of gory and smouldering ruins, fell into the hands of the poles. battle after battle, siege after siege ensued, in nearly all of which the poles were successful. they were guided by their monarch in person, a veteran warrior, who possessed extraordinary military skill. the blasts of winter drove both parties from the field. but, in the earliest spring, the campaign was opened again with redoubled energy. again the poles, who had obtained strong reinforcements of troops from germany and hungary, were signally successful. though the fighting was constant and arduous, the whole campaign was but a series of conquests on the part of stephen, and when the snows of another winter whitened the fields, the polish banners were waving over large portions of the russian territory. the details of these scenes are revolting. fire, blood and the brutal passions of demoniac men were combined in deeds of horror, the recital of which makes the ears to tingle. before the buds of another spring had opened into leaf, the contending armies were again upon the march. poland had now succeeded in enlisting sweden in her cause, and russia began to be quite seriously imperiled. riga, on the dwina, soon fell into the hands of the poles, and their banners were resistlessly on the advance. ivan iv., much dejected, proposed terms of peace. stephen refused to treat unless russia would surrender the whole of livonia, a province nearly three times as large as the state of massachusetts, to poland. the tzar was compelled essentially to yield to these hard terms. the treaty of peace was signed on the th of january, . ivan iv. surrendered to poland all of livonia which bordered on poland, which contained thirty-four towns and castles, together with several other important fortresses on the frontiers. a truce was concluded for ten years, should both parties live so long. but should either die, the survivor was at liberty immediately to attack the territory of the deceased. no mention whatever was made of sweden in this treaty. this neglect gave such offense to the swedish court, that, in petty revenge, they sent an _italian cook_ to the polish court as an embassador with the most arrogant demands. stephen very wisely treated the insult, which he probably deserved, with contempt. the result of this war, so humiliating to russia, rendered ivan very unpopular. murmurs loud and deep were heard all over the empire. many of the nobles threw themselves at the feet of the tzar and entreated him not to assent to so disgraceful a treaty, assuring him that the whole nation were ready at his call to rise and drive the invaders from the empire. ivan was greatly incensed, and petulantly replied that if they were not satisfied with his administration they had better choose another sovereign. suspecting that his son was inciting this movement, and that he perhaps was aiming at the crown, ivan assailed him in the bitterest terms of reproach. the young prince replied in a manner which so exasperated his father, that he struck him with a staff which he had in his hand. the staff was tipped with an iron ferule which unfortunately hit the young man on the temple, and he fell senseless at his father's feet. the anguish of ivan was unspeakable. his paroxysm of anger instantly gave place to a more intense paroxysm of grief and remorse. he threw himself upon the body of his son, pressed him fervently to his heart, and addressed him in the most endearing terms of affection and affliction. the prince so far revived as to be able to exchange a few words with his father, but in four days he died. the blow which deprived the son of life, for ever after deprived the father of peace. he was seldom again seen to smile. any mention of his son would ever throw him into a paroxysm of tears. for a long time he could with difficulty be persuaded to take any nourishment or to change his dress. with the utmost possible demonstrations of grief and respect the remains of the prince were conveyed to the grave. the death of this young man was a calamity to russia. he was the worthy son of anastasia, and from his mother he had inherited both genius and moral worth. by a subsequent marriage ivan had two other sons, feodor and dmitri. but they were of different blood; feeble in intellect and possessed no requisites for the exalted station opening before them. chapter xvi. the storms of hereditary succession. from to . anguish and death of ivan iv.--his character.--feodor and dmitri.--usurpation of boris gudenow.--the polish election.--conquest of siberia.--assassination of dmitri.--death of feodor.--boris crowned king.--conspiracies.--reappearance of dmitri.--boris poisoned.--the pretender crowned.--embarrassments of dmitri.--a new pretender.--assassination of dmitri.--crowning of zuski.--indignation of poland.--historical romance. the hasty blow which deprived the son of ivan of life was also fatal to the father. he never recovered from the effects. after a few months of anguish and remorse, ivan iv. sank sorrowing to the grave. penitent, prayerful and assured that his sins were forgiven, he met death with perfect composure. the last days of his life were devoted exclusively to such preparations for his departure that the welfare of his people might be undisturbed. he ordered a general act of amnesty to be proclaimed to all the prisoners throughout all the empire, abolished several onerous taxes, restored several confiscated estates to their original owners, and urged his son, feodor, who was to be his successor, to make every possible endeavor to live at peace with his neighbors, that russia might thus be saved from the woes of war. exhausted by a long interview with his son, he took a bath; on coming out he reclined upon a couch, and suddenly, without a struggle or a groan, was dead. ivan iv. has ever been regarded as one of the most illustrious of the russian monarchs. he was eminently a learned prince for the times in which he lived, entertaining uncommonly just views both of religion and politics. in religion he was tolerant far above his age, allowing no christians to be persecuted for their belief. we regret that this high praise must be limited by his treatment of the jews, whom he could not endure. with conscientiousness, unenlightened and bigoted, he declared that those who had betrayed and crucified the saviour of the world ought not to be tolerated by any christian prince. he accordingly ordered every jew either to be baptized into the christian faith or to depart from the empire. ivan was naturally of a very hasty temper, which was nurtured by the cruel and shameful neglect of his early years. though he struggled against this infirmity, it would occasionally break out in paroxysms which caused bitter repentance. the death of his son, caused by one of these outbreaks, was the great woe of his life. still he was distinguished for his love of justice. at stated times the aggrieved of every rank were admitted to his presence, where they in person presented their petitions. if any minister or governor was found guilty of oppression, he was sure to meet with condign punishment. this impartiality, from which no noble was exempted, at times exasperated greatly the haughty aristocracy. he was also inflexible in his determination to confer office only upon those who were worthy of the trust. no solicitations or views of self-interest could induce him to swerve from this resolve. intemperance he especially abominated, and frowned upon the degrading vice alike in prince or peasant. he conferred an inestimable favor upon russia by causing a compilation, for the use of his subjects, of a body of laws, which was called "the book of justice." this code was presented to the judges, and was regarded as authority in all law proceedings. the historians of those days record that his memory was so remarkable that he could call all the officers of his army by name, and could even remember the name of every prisoner he had taken, numbering many thousands. in those days of dim enlightenment, when the masses were little elevated above the animal, the popular mind was more easily impressed by material than intellectual grandeur. it was then deemed necessary, among the unenlightened nations of europe, to overawe the multitude by the splendor of the throne--by scepters, robes and diadems glittering with priceless jewels and with gold. the crown regalia of russia were inestimably rich. the robe of the monarch was of purple, embroidered with precious stones, and even his shoes sparkled with diamonds of dazzling luster. when he sat upon his throne to receive foreign embassadors, or the members of his own court, he held in his right hand a globe, the emblem of universal monarchy, enriched with all the jeweled splendor which art could entwine around it. in his left hand he held a scepter, which also dazzled the eye by its superb embellishments. his fingers were laden with the most precious gems the indies could afford. whenever he appeared in public, the arms of the empire, finely embroidered upon a spread eagle, and magnificently adorned, were borne as a banner before him; and the masses of the people bowed before their monarch, thus arrayed, as though he were a god. ivan iv. left two sons, feodor and dmitri. feodor, who succeeded his father, was twenty years of age, weak, characterless, though quite amiable. in his early youth his chief pleasure seemed to consist in ringing the bells of moscow, which led his father, at one time, to say that he was fitter to be the son of a sexton than of a prince. dmitri was an infant. he was placed, by his father's will, under the tutelage of an energetic, ambitious noble, by the name of bogdan bielski. this aspiring nobleman, conscious of the incapacity of feodor to govern, laid his plans to obtain the throne for himself. feodor was crowned immediately after the death of his father, and proceeded at once to carry out the provisions of his will by liberating the prisoners, abolishing the taxes and restoring confiscated estates. he also abolished the body guard of the tzar, which had become peculiarly obnoxious to the nation. these measures rendered him, for a time, very popular. this popularity thwarted bielski in the plan of organizing the people and the nobles in a conspiracy against the young monarch, and the nobles even became so much alarmed by the proceedings of the haughty minister, who was so evidently aiming at the usurpation of the throne, that they besieged him in his castle. the fortress was strong, and the powerful feudal lord, rallying his vassals around him, made a valiant and a protracted defense. at length, finding that he would be compelled to surrender, he attempted to escape in disguise. being taken a captive, he was offered his choice, death, or the renunciation of all political influence and departure into exile. he chose the latter, and retired beyond the volga to one of the most remote provinces of kezan. feodor had married the daughter of one of the most illustrious of his nobles. his father-in-law, a man of peculiar address and capacity, with ability both to conceive and execute the greatest undertakings, soon attained supremacy over the mind of the feeble monarch. the name of this noble, who became renowned in russian annals, was boris gudenow. he had the rare faculty of winning the favor of all whom he approached. with rapid strides he attained the posts of prime minister, commander-in-chief and co-regent of the empire. a polish embassador at this time visited moscow, and, witnessing the extreme feebleness of feodor, sent word to his ambitious master, stephen bathori, that nothing would be easier than to invade russia successfully; that smolensk could easily be taken, and that thence the polish army might find an almost unobstructed march to moscow. but death soon removed the polish monarch from the labyrinths of war and diplomacy. boris was now virtually the monarch of russia, reigning, however, in the name of feodor. we have before mentioned that poland was an elective monarchy. immediately upon the death of a sovereign, the nobles, with their bands of retainers, often eighty thousand in number, met upon a large plain, where they spent many days in intrigues and finally in the election of a new chieftain. boris gudenow now roused all his energies in the endeavor to unite poland and russia under one monarchy by the election of feodor as sovereign of the latter kingdom. the polish nobles, proud and self-confident, and apprised of the incapacity of feodor, were many of them in favor of the plan, as boris had adroitly intimated to them that they might regard the measure rather as the annexing russia to poland than poland to russia. all that boris cared for was the fact accomplished. he was willing that the agents of his schemes should be influenced by any motives which might be most efficacious. the polish diet met in a stormy session, and finally, a majority of its members, instead of voting for feodor, elected prince sigismond, a son of john, king of sweden. this election greatly alarmed russia, as it allied poland and sweden by the most intimate ties, and might eventually place the crown of both of those powerful kingdoms upon the same brow. these apprehensions were increased by the fact that the crimean tartars soon again began to make hostile demonstrations, and it was feared that they were moving only in accordance with suggestions which had been sent to them from poland and sweden, and that thus a triple alliance was about to desolate the empire. the tartars commenced their march. but boris met them with such energy that they were driven back in utter discomfiture. the northern portion of asia consisted of a vast, desolate, thinly-peopled country called siberia. it was bounded by the caucasian and altai mountains on the south, the ural mountains on the west, the pacific ocean on the east, and the frozen ocean on the north. most of the region was within the limits of the frozen zone, and the most southern sections were cold and inhospitable, enjoying but a gleam of summer sunshine. this country, embracing over four millions of square miles, being thus larger than the whole of europe, contained but about two millions of inhabitants. it was watered by some of the most majestic rivers on the globe, the oby, enisei and the lena. the population consisted mostly of wandering mohammedan tartars, in a very low state of civilization. at that time there were but two important towns in this region, tura and tobolsk. some of the barbarians of this region descended to the shores of the volga, in a desolating, predatory excursion. a russian army drove them back, pursued them to their homes, took both of these towns, erected fortresses, and gradually brought the whole of siberia under russian sway. this great conquest was achieved almost without bloodshed. boris gudenow now exercised all the functions of sovereign authority. his energy had enriched russia with the accession of siberia. he now resolved to lay aside the feeble prince feodor, who nominally occupied the throne, and to place the crown upon his own brow. it seemed to him an easy thing to appropriate the emblems of power, since he already enjoyed all the prerogatives of royalty. under the pretense of rewarding, with important posts of trust, the most efficient of the nobles, he removed all those whose influence he had most to dread, to distant provinces and foreign embassies. he then endeavored, by many favors, to win the affections of the populace of moscow. the young prince dmitri had now attained his ninth year, and was residing, under the care of his tutors, at the city of uglitz, about two hundred miles from moscow. uglitz, with its dependencies, had been assigned to him for his appanage. gudenow deemed it essential, to his secure occupancy of the throne, that this young prince should be put out of the way. he accordingly employed a russian officer, by the promise of immense rewards, to assassinate the child. and then, the deed having been performed, to prevent the possibility of his agency in it being divulged, he caused another low-born murderer to track the path of the officer and plunge a dagger into his bosom. both murders were successfully accomplished. the news of the assassination of the young prince soon reached moscow, and caused intense excitement. gudenow was by many suspected, though he endeavored to stifle the report by clamorous expressions of horror and indignation, and by apparently making the most strenuous efforts to discover the murderers. as an expression of his rage, he sent troops to demolish the fortress of uglitz, and to drive the inhabitants from the city, because they had, as he asserted, harbored the assassins. soon after this feodor was suddenly taken ill. he lingered upon his bed for a few days in great pain, and then died. when the king was lying upon this dying bed, boris gudenow, who, it will be recollected, was the father of the wife of feodor, succeeded in obtaining from him a sort of bequest of the throne, and immediately upon the death of the king, he assumed the state of royalty as a duty enjoined upon him by this bequest. the death of feodor terminated the reign of the house of ruric, which had now governed russia for more than seven hundred years. not a little artifice was still requisite to quell the indignant passions which were rising in the bosoms of the nobles. but gudenow was a consummate master of his art, and through the intrigues of years had the programme of operations all arranged. according to custom, six weeks were devoted to mourning for feodor. boris then assembled the nobility and principal citizens of moscow, in the kremlin, and, to the unutterable surprise of many of them, declared that he could not consent to assume the weighty cares and infinite responsibilities of royalty; that the empire was unfortunately left without a sovereign, and that they must proceed to designate the one to whom the crown should be transferred; that he, worn down with the toils of state, had decided to retire to a monastery, and devote the remainder of his days to poverty, retirement and to god. he immediately took leave of the astonished and perplexed assembly, and withdrew to a convent about three miles from moscow. the partisans of boris were prepared to act their part. they stated that intelligence had arrived that the tartars, with an immense army, had commenced the invasion of russia; that boris alone was familiar with the condition and resources of the empire, and with the details of administration--that he was a veteran soldier, and that his military genius and vigorous arm were requisite to beat back the foe. these considerations were influential, and a deputation was chosen to urge boris, as he loved his country, to continue in power and accept the scepter, which, as prime minister, he had so long successfully wielded. boris affected the most extreme reluctance. the populace of moscow, whose favor he had purchased, surrounded the convent in crowds, and with vehemence, characteristic of their impulsive, childish natures, threw themselves upon the ground, tore their hair, beat their breasts, and declared that they would never return to their homes unless boris would consent to be their sovereign. pretending, at last, to be overcome by these entreaties, boris consented to raise and lead an army to repel the tartars, and he promised that should providence prosper him in this enterprise, he would regard it as an indication that it was the will of heaven that he should ascend the throne. he immediately called all his tremendous energies into exercise, and in a few months collected an army, of the nobles and of the militia, amounting to five hundred thousand men. with great pomp he rode through the ranks of this mighty host, receiving their enthusiastic applause. in that day, as neither telegraphs, newspapers or stage-coaches existed, intelligence was transmitted with difficulty, and very slowly. the story of the tartar invasion proved a sham. boris had originated it to accomplish his purposes. he amused and conciliated the soldiers with magnificent parades, intimating that the tartars, alarmed by his vast preparations, had not dared to advance against him. a year's pay was ordered for each one of the soldiers. the nobles received gratuities and were entertained by the tzar in festivals, at which parties of ten thousand, day after day, were feasted, during an interval of six weeks. boris then returned to moscow. the people met him several miles from the city, and conducted him in triumph to the kremlin. he was crowned, with great pomp, emperor of russia, on the st of september, . boris watched, with an eagle eye, all those who could by any possibility disturb his reign or endanger the permanence of the new dynasty which he wished to establish. some of the princes of the old royal family were forbidden to marry; others were banished to siberia. the diadem, thus usurped, proved indeed a crown of thorns. that which is founded in crime, can generally by crime alone be perpetuated. the manners of the usurper were soon entirely altered. he had been affable, easy of access, and very popular. but now he became haughty, reserved and suspicious. wishing to strengthen his dynasty by royal alliances, he proposed the marriage of his daughter to gustavus, son of eric xiv., king of sweden. he accordingly invited gustavus to moscow, making him pompous promises. the young prince was received with magnificent display and loaded with presents. but there was soon a falling out between boris and his intended son-in-law, and the young prince was dismissed in disgrace. he however succeeded in establishing a treaty of peace with the poles, which was to continue twenty years. he also was successful in contracting an alliance for his daughter axinia, with duke john of denmark. the marriage was celebrated in moscow in with great splendor. but even before the marriage festivities were closed, the duke was taken sick and died, to the inexpressible disappointment of boris. the turks from constantinople sent an embassy to moscow with rich presents, proposing a treaty of friendship and alliance. but boris declined the presents and dismissed the embassadors, saying that he could never be friendly to the turks, as they were the enemies of christianity. like many other men, he could trample upon the precepts of the gospel, and yet be zealous of christianity as a doctrinal code or an institution. a report was now circulated that the young dmitri was still alive, that his mother, conscious of the danger of his assassination, had placed the prince in a position of safety, and that another child had been assassinated in his stead. this rumor overwhelmed the guilty soul of boris with melancholy. his fears were so strongly excited, that several nobles, who were supposed to be in the interests of the young prince, were put to the rack to extort a confession. but no positive information respecting dmitri could be gained. the mother of dmitri was banished to an obscure fortress six hundred miles from moscow. the emissaries of boris were everywhere busy to detect, if possible, the hiding place of dmitri. intelligence was at length brought to the kremlin that two monks had escaped from a convent and had fled to poland, and that it was apprehended that one of them was the young prince in disguise; it was also said that weisnowiski, prince of kief, was protector of dmitri, and, in concert with others, was preparing a movement to place him upon the throne of his ancestors. boris was thrown into paroxysms of terror. not knowing what else to do, he franticly sent a party of cossacks to murder weisnowiski; but the prince was on his guard, and the enterprise failed. the question, "have we a bourbon among us?" has agitated the whole of the united states. the question, "have we a dmitri among us?" then agitated russia far more intensely. it was a question of the utmost practical importance, involving civil war and the removal of the new dynasty for the restoration of the old. whether the person said to be dmitri were really such, is a question which can now never be settled. the monk griska utropeja, who declared himself to be the young prince, sustained his claim with such an array of evidence as to secure the support of a large portion of the russians, and also the coöperation of the court of poland. the claims of griska were brought up before the polish diet and carefully examined. he was then acknowledged by them as the legitimate heir to the crown of russia. an army was raised to restore him to his ancestral throne. sigismond, the king of poland, with ardor espoused his cause. boris immediately dispatched an embassy to warsaw to remind sigismond of the treaty of alliance into which he had entered, and to insist upon his delivering up the pretended dmitri, dead or alive. a threat was added to the entreaty: "if you countenance this impostor," said boris, "you will draw down upon you a war which you may have cause to repent." sigismond replied, that though he had no doubt that griska was truly the prince dmitri, and, as such, entitled to the throne of russia, still he had no disposition personally to embark in the advocacy of his rights; but, that if any of his nobles felt disposed to espouse his claims with arms or money, he certainly should do nothing to thwart them. the polish nobles, thus encouraged, raised an army of forty thousand men, which they surrendered to griska. he, assuming the name of dmitri, placed himself at their head, and boldly commenced a march upon moscow. as soon as he entered the russian territories many nobles hastened to his banners, and several important cities declared for him. boris was excessively alarmed. with characteristic energy he speedily raised an army of two hundred thousand men, and then was in the utmost terror lest this very army should pass over to the ranks of his foes. he applied to sweden and to denmark to help him, but both kingdoms refused. dmitri advanced triumphantly, and laid siege to novgorod on the st of december, . for five months the war continued with varying success. boris made every attempt to secure the assassination of griska, but the wary chieftain was on his guard, and all such endeavors were frustrated. griska at length decided to resort to the same weapons. an officer was sent to the kremlin with a feigned account of a victory obtained over the troops of dmitri. this officer succeeded in mingling poison with the food of boris. the drug was so deadly that the usurper dropped and expired almost without a struggle and without a groan. as soon as boris was dead, his widow, a woman of great ambition and energy, lost not an hour in proclaiming the succession of her son, feodor. the officers of the army were promptly summoned to take the oath of allegiance to the new sovereign. feodor was but fifteen years of age, a thoroughly spoilt boy, proud, domineering, selfish and cruel. there was now a revolt in the army of the late tzar. several of the officers embraced the cause of griska, declaring their full conviction that he was the prince dmitri, and, they carried over to his ranks a large body of the soldiers. the defection of the army caused great consternation at court. the courtiers, eager to secure the favor of the prince whose star was so evidently in the ascendant, at once abandoned the hapless feodor and his enraged mother; and the halls of the kremlin and the streets of moscow were soon resounding with the name of dmitri. a proclamation was published declaring general amnesty, and rich rewards to all who should recognize and support the rights of their legitimate prince, but that his opponents must expect no mercy. the populace immediately rose in revolt against feodor. they assailed the kremlin. in a resistless inundation they forced its gates, seized the young tzar, with his mother, sister and other relatives, and hurried them all to prison. dmitri was at thula when he received intelligence of this revolution. he immediately sent an officer, basilius galitzan, to moscow to receive the oath of fidelity of the city, and, at the same time, he diabolically sent an assassin, one ivan bogdanoff, with orders to strangle feodor and his mother in the prison, but with directions not to hurt his sister. bogdanoff reluctantly executed his mission. on the th of july, , dmitri made his triumphal entry into moscow. he was received with all the noisy demonstrations of public rejoicing, and, on the th of july, was crowned, with extraordinary grandeur, emperor of all the russias. the ceremonies of the triumphal entrance are perhaps worthy of record. a detachment of polish horse in brilliant uniform led the procession, headed by a numerous band of trumpeters. then came the gorgeous coach of dmitri, empty, drawn by six horses, richly caparisoned, and preceded, followed and flanked by dense columns of musqueteers. next came a procession of the clergy in their ecclesiastical robes, and with the banners of the church. this procession was led by the bishops, who bore effigies of the virgin mary and of st. nicholas, the patron saint of russia. following the clergy appeared dmitri, mounted on a white charger, and surrounded by a splendid retinue. he proceeded first to the church of notre dame, where a te deum was chanted, and where the new monarch received the sacrament. he then visited the tomb of ivan iv., and kneeling upon it, as the tomb of his father, implored god's blessing. perceiving that the body of boris gudenow had received interment in the royal cemetery, he ordered his remains, with those of his wife and son, all three of whom dmitri had caused to be assassinated, to be removed to a common churchyard without the city. either to silence those who might doubt his legitimacy or being truly the son of ivan iv., he sent two of the nobles, with a brilliant retinue, to the convent, more than six hundred miles from moscow, to which boris had banished the widow of ivan. they were to conduct the queen dowager to the capital. as she approached the city, dmitri went out to receive her, accompanied by a great number of his nobles. as soon as he perceived her coach, he alighted, went on foot to meet his alleged mother, and threw himself into her arms with every demonstration of joy and affection, which embraces she returned with equal tenderness. then, with his head uncovered, and walking by the side of her carriage, he conducted her to the city and to the kremlin. he ever after treated her with the deference due to a mother, and received from her corresponding proofs of confidence and affection. but dmitri was thoroughly a bad man, and every day became more unpopular. he debauched the young sister of feodor, and then shut her up in a convent. he banished seventy noble families who were accused of being the friends of boris, and gave their estates and dignities to his polish partisans. a party was soon organized against him, who busily circulated reports that he was an impostor, and a conspiracy was formed to take his life. perplexities and perils now gathered rapidly around his throne. he surrounded himself with polish guards, and thus increased the exasperation of his subjects. to add to his perplexities, another claimant of the crown appeared, who declared himself to be the son of the late tzar, feodor, son of ivan iv. this young man, named peter, was seventeen years of age. he had raised his standard on the other side of the volga, and had rallied four thousand partisans around him. in the meantime, dmitri had made arrangements for his marriage with mariana meneiski, a polish princess, of the roman church. this princess was married to the tzar by proxy, in cracow, and in january, , with a numerous retinue set out on her journey to moscow. she did not reach the capital of moscow until the st of may. her father's whole family, and several thousand armed polanders, by way of guard, accompanied her. many of the polish nobles also took this opportunity of visiting russia, and a multitude of merchants put themselves in her train for purposes of traffic. the tzarina was met, at some distance from moscow, by the royal guard, and escorted to the city, where she was received with ringing of bells, shoutings, discharge of cannons and all the ordinary and extraordinary demonstrations of popular joy. on the th of may, the ceremony of blessing the marriage was performed by the patriarch, and immediately after she was crowned tzarina with greater pomp than russia had ever witnessed before. but the appearance of this immense train of armed poles incensed the russians; and the clergy, who were jealous of the encroachments of the church of rome, were alarmed in behalf of their religion. an intrepid noble, zuski, now resolved, by the energies of a popular insurrection, to rid the throne of dmitri. with great sagacity and energy the conspiracy was formed. the tzarina was to give a grand entertainment on the evening of the th of may, and the conspirators fixed upon that occasion for the consummation of their plan. twenty thousand troops were under the orders of zuski, and he had led them all into the city, under the pretense of having them assist in the festival. at six o'clock in the morning of the appointed day these troops, accompanied by some thousands of the populace, surrounded the palace and seized its gates. a division was then sent in, who commenced the indiscriminate massacre of all who were, or who looked like polanders. it was taken for granted that all in the palace were either poles or their partisans. the alarm bells were now rung, and zuski traversed the streets with a drawn saber in one hand and a cross in the other, rousing the ignorant populace by the cry that the poles had taken up arms to murder the russians. dmitri, in his chamber, hearing the cries of the dying and the shrieks of those who fled before the assassins, leaped from his window into the court yard, and, by his fall, dislocated his thigh. he was immediately seized, conveyed into the grand hall of audience, and a strong guard was set over him. the murderers ransacked the palace, penetrating every room, killing every polish man and treating the polish ladies with the utmost brutality. they inquired eagerly for the tzarina, but she was nowhere to be found. she had concealed herself beneath the hoop of an elderly lady whose gray hairs and withered cheek had preserved her from violence. zuski now went to the dowager tzarina, the widow of ivan iv., and demanded that she should take her oath upon the gospels whether dmitri were her son. he reported that, thus pressed, she confessed that he was an impostor, and that her true son had perished many years before. the conspirators now fell upon dmitri and his body was pierced with a thousand dagger thrusts. his mangled remains were then dragged through the streets and burned. mariana was soon after arrested and sent to prison. it is said that nearly two thousand poles perished in this massacre. even to the present day opinion is divided in russia in regard to dmitri, whether he was an impostor or the son of ivan iv. respecting his character there is no dispute. all that can be said in his favor is that he would not commit an atrocious crime unless impelled to it by very strong temptation. there was now no one who seemed to have any legitimate title to the throne of russia. the nobles and the senators who were at moscow then met to proceed to the election of a new sovereign. it was an event almost without a parallel in russian history. the lords, though very friendly in their deliberations, found it difficult to decide into whose hands to intrust the scepter. it was at last unanimously concluded to make an appeal to the people. their voice was for zuski. he was accordingly declared tzar and was soon after crowned with a degree of unanimity which, though well authenticated, seems inexplicable. the poles were exasperated beyond measure at the massacre of so many of their nobles and at the insult offered to mariana, the tzarina. but poland was at that time distracted by civil strife, and the king found it expedient to postpone the hour of vengeance. zuski commenced his reign by adopting measures which gave him great popularity with the adjoining kingdoms, while they did not diminish the favorable regards of the people. but suddenly affairs assumed a new aspect, so strange that a writer of fiction would hardly have ventured to imagine it. an artful man, a schoolmaster in poland, who could speak the russian language, declared that he was dmitri; that he had escaped from the massacre in his palace, and that it was another man, mistaken for him, whom the assassins had killed. poland, inspired by revenge, eagerly embraced this man's cause. mariana, who had been liberated from prison, was let into the secret, and willing to ascend again to the grandeur from which she had fallen, entered with cordial coöperation into this new intrigue. the widowed tzarina and the polish adventurer contrived their first meeting in the presence of a large concourse of nobles and citizens. they rushed together in a warm embrace, while tears of affected transport bedewed their cheeks. the farce was so admirably performed that many were deceived, and this new dmitri and the tzarina occupied for several days the same tent in the polish encampment, apparently as husband and wife. chapter xvii. a change of dynasty. from to . conquests by poland.--sweden in alliance with russia.--grandeur of poland.--ladislaus elected king of russia.--commotions and insurrections.--rejection of ladislaus and election of michael feodor romanow.--sorrow of his mother.--pacific character of romanow.--choice of a bride.--eudochia streschnew.--the archbishop feodor.--death of michael and accession of alexis.--love in the palace.--successful intrigue.--mobs in moscow.--change in the character of the tzar.--turkish invasions.--alliance between russia and poland. this public testimonial of conjugal love led men, who had before doubted the pretender, to repose confidence in his claims. the king of poland took advantage of the confusion now reigning in russia to extend his dominions by wresting still more border territory from his great rival. in this exigence, zuski purchased the loan of an army of five thousand men from sweden by surrendering livonia to the swedes. with these succors united to his own troops, he marched to meet the pretended dmitri. there was now universal confusion in russia. the two hostile armies, avoiding a decisive engagement, were maneuvering and engaging in incessant petty skirmishes, which resulted only in bloodshed and misery. thus five years of national woe lingered away. the people became weary of both the claimants for the crown, and the nobles boldly met, regardless of the rival combatants, and resolved to choose a new sovereign. poland had then attained the summit of its greatness. as an energetic military power, it was superior to russia. to conciliate poland, whose aggressions were greatly feared, the russian nobles chose, for their sovereign, ladislaus, son of sigismond, the king of poland. they hoped thus to withdraw the polish armies from the banners of the pretended dmitri, and also to secure peace for their war-blasted kingdom. ladislaus accepted the crown. zuski was seized, deposed, shaved, dressed in a friar's robe and shut up in a convent to count his beads. he soon died of that malignant poison, grief. dmitri made a show of opposition, but he was soon assassinated by his own men, who were convinced of the hopelessness of his cause. his party, however, lasted for many years, bringing forward a young man who was called his son. at one time there was quite an enthusiasm in his favor, crowds flocked to his camp, and he even sent embassadors to gustavus ix., king of sweden, proposing an alliance. at last he was betrayed by some of his own party, and was sent to moscow, where he was hanged. sigismond was much perplexed in deciding whether to consent to his son's accepting the crown of russia. that kingdom was now in such a state of confusion and weakness that he was quite sanguine that he would be able to conquer it by force of arms and bring the whole empire under the dominion of his own scepter. his armies were already besieging smolensk, and the city was hourly expected to fall into their hands. this would open to them almost an unobstructed march to moscow. the poles, generally warlike and ambitious of conquest, represented to sigismond that it would be far more glorious for him to be the conqueror of russia than to be merely the father of its tzar. sigismond, with trivial excuses, detained his son in poland, while, under various pretexts, he continued to pour his troops into russia. ten thousand armed poles were sent to moscow to be in readiness to receive the newly-elected monarch upon his arrival. their general, stanislaus, artfully contrived even to place a thousand of these polish troops in garrison in the citadel of moscow. these foreign soldiers at last became so insolent that there was a general rising of the populace, and they were threatened with utter extermination. the storm of passion thus raised, no earthly power could quell. the awful slaughter was commenced, and the poles, conscious of their danger, resorted to the horrible but only measure which could save them from destruction. they immediately set fire to the city in many different places. the city then consisted of one hundred and eighty thousand houses, most of them being of wood. as the flames rose, sweeping from house to house and from street to street, the inhabitants, distracted by the endeavor to save their wives, their children and their property, threw down their arms and dispersed. when thus helpless, the poles fell upon them, and one of the most awful massacres ensued of which history gives any record. a hundred thousand of the wretched people of moscow perished beneath the polish cimeters. for fifteen days the depopulated and smouldering capital was surrendered to pillage. the royal treasury, the churches, the convents were all plundered. the poles, then, laden with booty, but leaving a garrison in the citadel, evacuated the ruined city and commenced their march to poland. these horrors roused the russians. an army under a heroic general, zachary lippenow, besieged the polish garrison, starved them into a surrender, and put them all to death. the nobles then met, declared the election of ladislaus void, on account of his not coming to moscow to accept it, and again proceeded to the choice of a sovereign. after long deliberation, one man ventured to propose a candidate very different from any who had before been thought of. it was michael feodor romanow. he was a studious, philosophic young man, seventeen years of age. his father was archbishop of rostow, a man of exalted reputation, both for genius and piety. michael, with his mother, was in a convent at castroma. it was modestly urged that in this young man there were centered all the qualifications essential for the promotion of the tranquillity of the state. there were but three males of his family living, and thus the state would avoid the evil of having numerous relatives of the prince to be cared for. he was entirely free from embroilments in the late troubles. as his father was a clergyman of known piety and virtue, he would counsel his son to peace, and would conscientiously seek the best good of the empire. the proposition, sustained by such views, was accepted with general acclaim. there were several nobles from castroma who testified that though they were not personally acquainted with young romanow, they believed him to be a youth of unusual intelligence, discretion and moral worth. as the nobles were anxious not to act hastily in a matter of such great importance, they dispatched two of their number to castroma with a letter to the mother of michael, urging her to repair immediately with her son to moscow. the affectionate, judicious mother, upon the reception of this letter, burst into tears of anguish, lamenting the calamity which was impending. "my son," she said, "my only son is to be taken from me to be placed upon the throne, only to be miserably slaughtered like so many of the tzars who have preceded him." she wrote to the electors entreating them that her son might be excused, saying that he was altogether too young to reign, that his father was a prisoner in poland, and that her son had no relations capable of assisting him with their advice. this letter, on the whole, did but confirm the assembly of nobles in their conviction that they could not make a better choice than that of the young romanow. they accordingly, with great unanimity, elected michael feodor romanow, sovereign of all the russias; then, repairing in a body to the cathedral, they proclaimed him to the people as their sovereign. the announcement was received with rapturous applause. it was thus that the house of romanow was placed upon the throne of russia. it retains the throne to the present day. michael, incited by singular sagacity and by true christian philanthropy, commenced his reign by the most efficient measures to secure the peace of the empire. as soon as he had notified his election to the king of poland, his father, archbishop of rostow, was set at liberty and sent home. he was immediately created by his son patriarch of all russia, an office in the greek church almost equivalent to that of the pope in the romish hierarchy. while these scenes were transpiring, charles ix. died, and gustavus adolphus succeeded to the throne of sweden. gustavus and michael both desired peace, the preliminaries were soon settled, and peace was established upon a basis far more advantageous to the swedes than to the russians. by this treaty, russia ceded to sweden territory, which deprived russia of all access to the baltic sea. thus the only point now upon which russia touched the ocean, was on the north sea. no enemies remained to russia but the poles. here there was trouble enough. ladislaus still demanded the throne, and invaded the empire with an immense army. he advanced, ravaging the country, even to the gates of moscow. but, finding that he had no partisans in the kingdom, and that powerful armies were combining against him, he consented to a truce for fourteen years. russia was now at peace with all the world. the young tzar, aided by the counsels of his excellent father, devoted himself with untiring energy to the promotion of the prosperity of his subjects. it was deemed a matter of much political importance that the tzar should be immediately married. according to the custom of the empire, all the most beautiful girls were collected for the monarch to make his choice. they were received in the palace, and were lodged separately though they all dined together. the tzar saw them, either incognito or without disguise, as suited his pleasure. the day for the nuptials was appointed, and the bridal robes prepared when no one knew upon whom the monarch's choice had been fixed. on the morning of the nuptial day the robes were presented to the empress elect, who then, for the first time, learned that she had proved the successful candidate. the rejected maidens were returned to their homes laden with rich presents. the young lady selected, was eudocia streschnew, who chanced to be the daughter of a very worthy gentleman, in quite straitened circumstances, residing nearly two hundred miles from moscow. the messenger who was sent to inform him that his daughter was empress of russia, found him in the field at work with his domestics. the good old man was conducted to moscow; but he soon grew weary of the splendors of the court, and entreated permission to return again to his humble rural home. eudocia, reared in virtuous retirement, proved as lovely in character as she was beautiful in person, and she soon won the love of the nation. the first year of her marriage, she gave birth to a daughter. the three next children proved also daughters, to the great disappointment of their parents. but in the year , a son was born, and not only the court, but all russia, was filled with rejoicing. in the year , the tzar met with one of the greatest of afflictions in the loss of his father by death. his reverence for the venerable patriarch feodor, had been such that he was ever his principal counselor, and all his public acts were proclaimed in the name of the tzar and his majesty's father, the most holy patriarch. "as he had joined," writes an ancient historian, "the miter to the sword, having been a general in the army before he was an ecclesiastic, the affable and modest behaviour, so becoming the ministers of the altar, had tempered and corrected the fire of the warrior, and rendered his manners amiable to all that came near him." the reign of michael proved almost a constant success. his wisdom and probity caused him to be respected by the neighboring states, while the empire, in the enjoyment of peace, was rapidly developing all its resources, and increasing in wealth, population and power. his court was constantly filled with embassadors from all the monarchies of europe and even of asia. the tzar, rightly considering peace as almost the choicest of all earthly blessings, resisted all temptations to draw the sword. there were a few trivial interruptions of peace during his reign; but the dark clouds of war, by his energies, were soon dispelled. this pacific prince, one of the most worthy who ever sat upon any throne, died revered by his subjects on the th of july, , in the forty-ninth year of his age and the thirty-third of his reign. he left but two children--a son, alexis, who succeeded him, and a daughter, irene, who a few years after died unmarried. alexis was but sixteen years of age when he succeeded to the throne. to prevent the possibility of any cabals being formed, in consequence of his youth, he was crowned the day after his father's death. in one week from that time eudocia also died, her death being hastened by grief for the loss of her husband. an ambitious noble, moroson, supremely selfish, but cool, calculating and persevering, attained the post of prime minister or counselor of the young tzar. the great object of his aim was to make himself the first subject in the empire. in the accomplishment of this object there were two leading measures to which he resorted. the first was to keep the young tzar as much as possible from taking any part in the transactions of state, by involving him in an incessant round of pleasures. the next step was to secure for the tzar a wife who would be under his own influence. the love of pleasure incident to youth rendered the first measure not difficult of accomplishment. peculiar circumstances seemed remarkably to favor the second measure. there was a nobleman of high rank but of small fortune, strongly attached to moroson, who had two daughters of marvelous beauty. moroson doubted not that he could lead his ardent young monarch to marry one of these lovely sisters, and he resolved himself to marry the other. he would thus become the brother-in-law of the emperor. through his wife he would be able to influence her sister, the empress. the family would also all feel that they were indebted to him for their elevation. the plan was triumphantly successful. the two young ladies were invited to court, and were decorated to make the most impressive display of their loveliness. with the young tzar, a boy of sixteen, it was love at first sight, and that very day he told moroson that he wished to marry maria, the eldest of the beauties. rich presents were immediately lavished upon the whole family, so that they could make their appearance at court with suitable splendor. the tzar and maria were immediately betrothed, and in just eight days the ardent lover led his bride from the altar. at the end of another week moroson married the other sister. moroson and miloslouski, the father of the two brides, now ruled russia, while the tzar surrendered himself to amusements. the people soon became exasperated by the haughtiness and insolence of the duumvirate, and murmurs growing deeper and louder, ere long led to an insurrection. on the th of july, , the tzar, engaged in some civic celebration, was escorted in a procession to one of the monasteries of moscow. the populace assembled in immense numbers to see him pass. on his return the crowd broke through the attendant guards, seized the bridle of his horse, and entreated him to listen to their complaints concerning the outrages perpetrated by his ministers. the tzar, much alarmed by their violence, listened impatiently to their complaints and promised to render them satisfaction. the people were appeased, and were quietly retiring when the partisans of the ministers rode among them, assailing them with abusive language, crowding them with their horses, and even striking at them with their whips. the populace, incensed, began to pelt them with stones, and though the guard of the tzar came to their rescue, they escaped with difficulty to the palace. the mob was now thoroughly aroused. they rushed to the palace of moroson, burst down the doors, and sacked every apartment. they even tore from the person of his wife her jewels, throwing them into the street, but in other respects treating her with civility. they then passed to the palace of miloslauski, treating it in the same manner. the mob had now possession of moscow. palace after palace of the partisans of the ministers was sacked, and several of the most distinguished members of the court were massacred. the tzar, entirely deficient in energy, remained trembling in the kremlin during the whole of the night of the th of july, only entreating his friends to strengthen the guards and to secure the palace from the outrages of the populace. afraid to trust the russian troops, who might be found in sympathy with the people, alexis sent for a regiment of german troops who were in his employ, and stationed them around the palace. he then sent out an officer to disperse the crowd, assuring them that the disorders of which they complained should be redressed. they demanded that the offending ministers should be delivered to them, to be punished for the injuries they had inflicted upon the empire. alexis assured them, through his messenger, upon his oath, that moroson and miloslauski had escaped, but promised that the third minister whom they demanded, a noble by the name of plesseon, who was judge of the supreme court of judicature of moscow, should be brought out directly, and that those who had escaped should be delivered up as soon as they could be arrested. the guilty, wretched man, thus doomed to be the victim to appease the rage of the mob, in a quarter of an hour was led out bareheaded by the servants of the tzar to the market-place. the mob fell upon him with clubs, beat him to the earth, dragged him over the pavements, and finally cut off his head. thus satiated, about eleven o'clock in the morning they dispersed and returned to their homes. in the afternoon, however, the reign of violence was resumed. the city was set on fire in several places, and the mob collected for plunder, making no effort to extinguish the flames. the fire spread with such alarming rapidity that the whole city was endangered. at length, however, after terrible destruction of property and the loss of many lives, the fury of the conflagration was arrested. the affrighted tzar now filled the important posts of the ministry with men who had a reputation for justice, and the clergy immediately espousing the cause of order, exhorted the populace to that respect and obedience to the higher powers which their religion enjoined. alexis personally appeared before the people and addressed them in a speech, in which he made no apology for the outrages which had been committed by the government, but, assuming that the people were right in their demands, promised to repeal the onerous duties, to abolish the obnoxious monopolies, and even to increase the privileges which they had formerly enjoyed. the people received this announcement with great applause. the tzar, taking advantage of this return to friendliness, remarked, "i have promised to deliver up to you moroson and his confederates in the government. their acts i admit to have been very unjust, but their personal relations to me renders it peculiarly trying for me to condemn them. i hope the people will not deny the first request i have ever made to them, which is, that these men, whom i have displaced, may be pardoned. i will answer for them for the future, and assure you that their conduct shall be such as to give you cause to rejoice at your lenity." the people were so moved by this address, which the tzar pronounced with tears, that, as with one accord, they shouted, "god grant his majesty a long and happy life. the will of god and of the tzar be done." peace was thus restored between the government and the people, and great good accrued to russia from this successful insurrection. during the early reign of alexis, there were no foreign wars of any note. the poles were all the time busy in endeavors to beat back the turks, who, in wave after wave of invasion, were crossing the danube. upon the death of ladislaus, king of poland, alexis, who had then a fine army at his command, offered to march to repel the turks, if the poles would choose him king of poland. but at the same time france made a still more alluring offer, in case they would choose john casimir, a prince in the interests of france, as their sovereign. the choice fell upon john casimir. the provinces of smolensk, kiof and tchernigov were then in possession of the poles, having been, in former wars, wrested from russia. the poles had conquered them by taking advantage of internal troubles in russia, which enabled them with success to invade the empire. alexis now thought it right, in his turn, to take advantage of the weakness of poland, harassed by the turks, to recover these lost provinces. he accordingly marched to the city of smolensk, and encamped before it with an army of three hundred thousand men. smolensk was one of the strongest places which military art had then been able to rear. the poles had received sufficient warning of the attack to enable them to garrison the fortifications to their utmost capacity and to supply the town abundantly with all the materials of war. the siege was continued for a full year, with all the usual accompaniments of carnage and misery which attend a beleaguered fortress. at last the city, battered into ruins, surrendered, and the victorious russians immediately swept over lithuanian poland, meeting no force to obstruct its march. another army, equally resistless, swept the banks of the dnieper, and recovered tchernigov and kiof. misfortunes seemed now to be falling like an avalanche upon poland. while the turks were assailing them on the south, and the russians were wresting from them opulent and populous provinces on the north, charles gustavus of sweden, was crossing her eastern frontiers with invading hosts. the impetuous swedish king, in three months, overran nearly the whole of poland, threatening the utter extinction of the kingdom. this alarmed the surrounding kingdoms, lest sweden should become too powerful for their safety. alexis immediately entered into a truce with poland, which guaranteed to him the peaceable possession of the provinces he had regained, and then united his armies with those of his humiliated rival, to arrest the strides of the swedish conqueror. sieges, cannonades and battles innumerable ensued, over hundreds of leagues of territory, bordering the shores of the baltic. for several years the maddened strife continued, producing its usual fruits of gory fields, smouldering cities, desolated homes, with orphanage, widowhood, starvation, pestilence, and every conceivable form of human misery. at length, all parties being exhausted, peace was concluded on the d of june, . the great insurrection in moscow had taught the tzar alexis a good lesson, and he profited by it wisely. he was led to devote himself earnestly to the welfare of his people. his recovery of the lost provinces of russia was considered just, and added immeasurably to his renown. conscious of the imperfection of his education, he engaged earnestly in study, causing many important scientific treatises to be translated into the russian language, and perusing them with diligence and delight. he had the laws of the several provinces collected and published together. many new manufactures were introduced, particularly those of silk and linen. though rigidly economical in his expenses, he maintained a magnificent court and a numerous army. he took great interest in the promotion of agriculture, bringing many desert wastes into cultivation, and peopling them with the prisoners taken in the polish and swedish wars. it was the custom in those barbaric times to drive, as captives of war, the men, women and children of whole provinces, to be slaves in the territory of the conqueror. often they occupied the position of a vassal peasantry, tilling the soil for the benefit of their lords. with singular foresight, alexis planned for the construction of a fleet both on the caspian and the black sea. with this object in view, he sent for ship carpenters from holland and other places. all europe was now trembling in view of the encroachments of the turks. several very angry messages had passed between the sultan and the tzar, and the turks had proved themselves ever eager to combine with the tartars in bloody raids into the southern regions of the empire. alexis resolved to combine christian europe, if possible, in a war of extermination against the turks. to this end he sent embassadors to every court in christendom. as his embassador was presented to pope clement x., the pope extended his foot for the customary kiss. the proud russian drew back, exclaiming, "so ignoble an act of homage is beneath the dignity of the prince whom i have the honor to serve." he then informed the pope that the emperor of russia had resolved to make war against the turks, that he wished to see all christian princes unite against those enemies of humanity and religion, that for that purpose he had sent embassadors to all the potentates of europe, and that he exhorted his holiness to place himself at the head of a league so powerful, so necessary for the protection of the church, and from which every christian state might derive the greatest advantages. foolish punctilios of etiquette interfered with any efficient arrangements with the court of rome, and though the embassadors of other powers were received with the most marked respect, these powers were all too much engrossed with their own internal affairs to enlist in this enterprise for the public good. the turks were, however, alarmed by these formidable movements, and, fearing such an alliance, were somewhat checked in their career of conquest. on the th of november, , the king of poland died, and again there was an attempt on the part of russia to unite poland and the empire under the same crown. all the monarchies in europe were involved in intrigues for the polish crown. the electors, however, chose john sobieski, a renowned polish general, for their sovereign. the tzar was very apprehensive that the poles would make peace with the turks, and thus leave the sultan at liberty to concentrate all his tremendous resources upon russia. alexis raised three large armies, amounting in all to one hundred and fifty thousand men, which he sent into the ukraine, as the frontier country, watered by the lower dnieper, was then called. the turkish army, which was spread over the country between the danube and the dniester, now crossed this latter stream, and, in solid battalions, four hundred thousand strong, penetrated the ukraine. they immediately commenced the fiend-like work of reducing the whole province to a desert. the process of destruction is swift. flames, in a few hours, will consume a city which centuries alone have reared. a squadron of cavalry will, in a few moments, trample fields of grain which have been slowly growing and ripening for months. in less than a fortnight nearly the whole of the ukraine was a depopulated waste, the troops of the tzar being shut up in narrow fortresses. the king of poland, apprehensive that this vast turkish army would soon turn with all their energies of destruction upon his own territories, resolved to march, with all the forces of his kingdom, to the aid of the russians. one hundred thousand polish troops immediately besieged the great city of humau, which the turks had taken, midway between the dnieper and the dniester. john sobieski, the newly-elected king of poland, was a veteran soldier of great military renown. he placed himself at the head of other divisions of the army, and endeavored to distract the enemy and to divide their forces. at the same time, alexis himself hastened to the theater of war that he might animate his troops by his presence. the turks, finding themselves unable to advance any further, sullenly returned to their own country by the way of the danube. upon the retirement of the turks, the russians and the poles began to quarrel respecting the possession of the ukraine. affairs were in this condition when the tzar alexis, in all the vigor of manhood, was taken sick and died. he was then in the forty-sixth year of his age. his first wife, maria miloslouski, had died several years before him, leaving two sons and four daughters. his second wife, natalia nariskin, to whom he was married in the year , still lived with her two children, a son, peter, who was subsequently entitled the great, as being the most illustrious monarch russia has known, and a daughter natalia. alexis, notwithstanding the unpropitious promise of his youth, proved one of the wisest and best princes russia had known for years. he was a lover of peace, and yet prosecuted war with energy when it was forced upon him. his oldest surviving son, feodor, who was but eighteen years of age at the time of his father's death, succeeded to the crown. feodor, following the counsel which his father gave him on his dying bed, soon took military possession of nearly all of the ukraine. the turks entered the country again, but were repulsed with severe loss. apprehensive that they would speedily return, the tzar made great efforts to secure a friendly alliance with poland, in which he succeeded by paying a large sum of money in requital for the provinces of smolensk and kiof which his arms had recovered. in the spring of , the turks again entered the ukraine with a still more formidable army than the year before. the campaign was opened by laying siege to the city czeherin, which was encompassed by nearly four hundred thousand men, and, after a destructive cannonade, was carried by storm. the garrison, consisting of thirty thousand men, were put to the sword. the russian troops were so panic-stricken by this defeat, that they speedily retreated. the turks pursued them a long distance, constantly harassing their rear. but the turks, in their turn, were compelled to retire, being driven back by famine, a foe against whom their weapons could make no impression. the ottoman porte soon found that little was gained by waging war with an empire so vast and sparsely settled as russia, and that their conquest of the desolated and depopulated lands of the ukraine, was by no means worth the expenses of the war. the porte was therefore inclined to make peace with russia, that the turkish armies might fall upon poland again, which presented a much more inviting field of conquest. the poles were informed of this through their embassador at constantinople, and earnestly appealed to the tzar of russia, and to all the princes in christendom to come to their aid. the selfishness which every court manifested is humiliating to human nature. each court seemed only to think of its own aggrandizement. feodor consented to aid them only on condition that the poles should renounce all pretension to any places then in possession of russia. to this the polish king assented, and the armies of russia and poland were again combined to repel the turks. chapter xviii. the regency of sophia. from to . administration of feodor.--death of feodor.--incapacity of ivan.--succession of peter.--usurpation of sophia.--insurrection of the strelitzes.--massacre in moscow.--success of the insurrection.--ivan and peter declared sovereigns under the regency of sophia.--general discontent.--conspiracy against sophia.--her flight to the convent.--the conspiracy quelled.--new conspiracy.--energy of peter.--he assumes the crown.--sophia banished to a convent.--commencement of the reign of peter. feodor, influenced by the wise counsels of his father, devoted much attention to the beautifying of his capital, and to developing the internal resources of the empire. he paved the streets of moscow, erected several large buildings of stone in place of the old wooden structures. commerce and arts were patronized, he even loaning, from the public treasury, sums of money to enterprising men to encourage them in their industrial enterprises. foreigners of distinction, both scholars and artisans, were invited to take up their residence in the empire. the tzar was particularly fond of fine horses, and was very successful in improving, by importations, the breed in russia. feodor had always been of an exceedingly frail constitution, and it was evident that he could not anticipate long life. in the year he married a daughter of one of the nobles. his bride, opimia routoski, was also frail in health, though very beautiful. six months had hardly passed away ere the youthful empress exchanged her bridal robes and couch for the shroud and the tomb. the emperor himself, grief-stricken, was rapidly sinking in a decline. his ministers almost forced him to another immediate marriage, hoping that, by the birth of a son, the succession of his half brother peter might be prevented. the dying emperor received into his emaciate, feeble arms the new bride who had been selected for him, marva matweowna, and after a few weeks of languor and depression died. he was deeply lamented by his subjects, for during his short reign of less than three years he had developed a noble character, and had accomplished more for the real prosperity of russia than many a monarch in the longest occupation of the throne. feodor left two brothers--ivan, a brother by the same mother, eudocia, and peter, the son of the second wife of alexis. ivan was very feeble in body and in mind, with dim vision, and subject to epileptic fits. feodor consequently declared his younger brother peter, who was but ten years of age, his successor. the custom of the empire allowed him to do this, and rendered this appointment valid. it was generally the doom of the daughters of the russian emperors, who could seldom find a match equal to their rank, to pass their lives immured in a convent. feodor had a sister, sophia, a very spirited, energetic woman, ambitious and resolute, whose whole soul revolted against such a moping existence. seeing that feodor had but a short time to live, she left her convent and returned to the kremlin, persisting in her resolve to perform all sisterly duties for her dying brother. ivan, her own brother, was incapable of reigning, from his infirmities. peter, her half-brother, was but a child. sophia, with wonderful energy, while tending at the couch of feodor, made herself familiar with the details of the administration, and, acting on behalf of the dying sovereign, gathered the reins of power into her own hands. as soon as feodor expired, and it was announced that peter was appointed successor to the throne, to the exclusion of his elder brother ivan, sophia, through her emissaries, excited the militia of the capital to one of the most bloody revolts moscow had ever witnessed. it was her intention to gain the throne for the imbecile ivan, as she doubted not that she could, in that event, govern the empire at her pleasure. peter, child as he was, had already developed a character of self-reliance which taught sophia that he would speedily wrest the scepter from her hands. the second day after the burial of feodor, the militia, or _strelitzes_ as they were called, a body of citizen soldiers in moscow, corresponding very much with the national guard of paris, surrounded the kremlin, in a great tumult, and commenced complaining of nine of their colonels, who owed them some arrears of pay. they demanded that these officers should be surrendered to them, and their demand was so threatening that the court, intimidated, was compelled to yield. the wretched officers were seized by the mob, tied to the ground naked, upon their faces, and whipped with most terrible severity. the soldiers thus overawed opposition, and became a power which no one dared resist. sophia was their inspiring genius, inciting and directing them through her emissaries. though some have denied her complicity in these deeds of violence, still the prevailing voice of history is altogether against her. sophia, having the terrors of the mob to wield, as her executive power, convened an assembly of the princes of the blood, the generals, the lords, the patriarch and the bishops of the church, and even of the principal merchants. she urged upon them that ivan, by right of birth, was entitled to the empire. the mother of peter, natalia nariskin, now empress dowager, was still young and beautiful. she had two brothers occupying posts of influence at court. the family of the nariskins had consequently much authority in the empire. sophia dreaded the power of her mother-in-law, and her first efforts of intrigue were directed against the nariskins. her agents were everywhere busy, in the court and in the army, whispering insinuations against them. it was even intimated that they had caused the death of feodor, by bribing his physician to poison him, and that they had attempted the life of ivan. at length sophia gave to her agents a list of forty lords whom they were to denounce to the insurgent soldiery as enemies to them and to the state. this was the signal for their massacre. two were first seized in the palace of the kremlin, and thrown out of the window. the soldiers received them upon their pikes, and dragged their mutilated corpses through the streets to the great square of the city. they then rushed back to the palace, where they found athanasius nariskin, one of the brothers of the queen dowager. he was immediately murdered. they soon after found three of the proscribed in a church, to which they had fled as a sanctuary. notwithstanding the sacredness of the church, the unhappy lords were instantly hewn to pieces by the swords of the assassins. thus frenzied with blood, they met a young lord whom they mistook for ivan nariskin, the remaining brother of the mother of peter. he was instantly slain, and then the assassins discovered their error. with some slight sense of justice, perhaps of humanity, they carried the bleeding corpse of the young nobleman to his father. the panic-stricken, heartbroken parent dared not rebuke them for the murder, but thanked them for bringing to him the corpse of his child. the mother, more impulsive and less cautious, broke out into bitter and almost delirious reproaches. the father, to appease her, said to her, in an under tone, "let us wait till the hour shall come when we shall be able to take revenge." some one overheard the imprudent words, and reported them to the mob. they immediately returned, dragged the old man down the stairs of his palace by the hair, and cut his throat upon his own door sill. they were now searching the city, in all directions, for von gaden the german physician of the late tzar, who was accused of administering to him poison. they met in the streets, the son of the physician, and demanded of him where his father was. the trembling lad replied that he did not know. they cut him down. soon they met another german physician. "you are a doctor," they said. "if you have not poisoned our sovereign you have poisoned others, and deserve death." he was immediately murdered. at length they discovered von gaden. he had attempted to disguise himself in a beggar's garb. the worthy old man, who, like most eminent physicians, was as distinguished for humanity as for eminent medical skill, was dragged to the kremlin. the princesses themselves came out and mingled with the crowd, begging for the life of the good man, assuring them that he had been a faithful physician and that he had served their sovereign with zeal. the soldiers declared that he deserved to die, as they had positive proof that he was a sorcerer, for, in searching his apartments, they had found the skin of a snake and several reptiles preserved in bottles. against such proof no earthly testimony could avail. they also demanded that ivan nariskin, whom they had been seeking for two days, should be delivered up to them. they were sure that he was concealed somewhere in the kremlin, and they threatened to set fire to the palace and burn it to the ground unless he were immediately delivered to them. it was evident that these threats would be promptly put into execution. firing the palace would certainly insure his death. there was the bare possibility of escape by surrendering him to the mob. the empress herself went to her brother in his concealment and informed him of the direful choice before him. the young prince sent for the patriarch, confessed his sins, partook of the lord's supper, received the sacrament of extreme unction in preparation for death, and was then led out, by the patriarch himself, dressed in his pontifical robes and bearing an image of the virgin mary, and was delivered by him to the soldiers. the queen and the princesses accompanied the victim, surrounding him, and, falling upon their knees before the soldiers, they united with the patriarch in pleading for his life. but the mob, intoxicated and maddened, dragged the young prince and the physician before a tribunal which they had constituted on the spot, and condemned them to what was expressively called the punishment of "ten thousand slices." their bodies were speedily cut into the smallest fragments, while their heads were stuck upon the iron spikes of the balustrade. these outrages were terminated by a proclamation from the soldiery that ivan and peter should be joint sovereigns under the regency of sophia. the regent rewarded her partisans liberally for their efficient and successful measures. upon the leaders she conferred the confiscated estates of the proscribed. a monument of shame was reared, upon which the names of the assassinated were engraved as traitors to their country. the soldiers were rewarded with double pay. sophia unscrupulously usurped all the prerogatives and honors of royalty. all dispatches were sealed with her hand. her effigy was stamped upon the current coin. she took her seat as presiding officer at the council. to confer a little more dignity upon the character of her imbecile brother, ivan, she selected for him a wife, a young lady of extraordinary beauty whose father had command of a fortress in siberia. it was on the th of june, , that sophia assumed the regency. in ivan was married. the scenes of violence which had occurred agitated the whole political atmosphere throughout the empire. there was intense exasperation, and many conspiracies were formed for the overthrow of the government. the most formidable of these conspiracies was organized by couvanski, commander-in-chief of the strelitzes. he was dissatisfied with the rewards he had received, and, conscious that he had placed sophia upon the throne through the energies of the soldiers he commanded, he believed that he might just as easily have placed himself there. having become accustomed to blood, the slaughter of a few more persons, that he might place the crown upon his own brow, appeared to him a matter of but little moment. he accordingly planned to murder the two tzars, the regent sophia and all the remaining princes of the royal family. then, by lavishing abundant rewards upon the soldiers, he doubted not that he could secure their efficient coöperation in maintaining him on the throne. the conspiracy was discovered upon the eve of its accomplishment. sophia immediately fled with the two tzars and the princes, to the monastery of the trinity. this was a palace, a convent and a fortress. the vast pile, reared of stone, was situated thirty-six miles from moscow, and was encompassed with deep ditches, and massive ramparts bristling with cannon. the monks were in possession of the whole country for a space of twelve miles around this almost impregnable citadel. from this safe retreat sophia opened communications with the rebel chief. she succeeded in alluring him to come half way to meet her in conference. a powerful band of soldiers, placed in ambush, seized him. he was immediately beheaded, with one of his sons, and thirty-seven strelitzes who had accompanied him. as soon as the strelitzes in moscow, numbering many thousands, heard of the assassination of their general and of their comrades, they flew to arms, and in solid battalions, with infantry, artillery and cavalry, marched to the assault of the convent. the regent rallied her supporters, consisting of the lords who were her partisans, and their vassals, and prepared for a vigorous defense. russia seemed now upon the eve of a bloody civil war. the nobles generally espoused the cause of the tzars under the regency of sophia. their claims seemed those of legitimacy, while the success of the insurrectionary soldiers promised only anarchy. the rise of the people in defense of the government was so sudden and simultaneous, that the strelitzes were panic-stricken, and soon, in the most abject submission, implored pardon, which was wisely granted them. sophia, with the tzars, surrounded by an army, returned in triumph to moscow. tranquillity was thus restored. sophia still held the reins of power with a firm grasp. the imbecility of ivan and the youth of peter rendered this usurpation easy. very adroitly she sent the most mutinous regiments of the strelitzes on apparently honorable missions to the distant provinces of the ukraine, kesan, and siberia. poland, menaced by the turks, made peace with russia, and purchased her alliance by the surrender of the vast province of smolensk and all the conquered territory in the ukraine. in the year , sophia sent the first russian embassy to france, which was then in the meridian of her splendor, under the reign of louis xiv. voltaire states that france, at that time, was so unacquainted with russia, that the academy of inscriptions celebrated this embassy by a medal, as if it had come from india.[ ] the crimean tartars, in confederacy with the turks, kept russia, poland, hungary, transylvania, and the various provinces of the german empire in perpetual alarm. poland and russia were so humiliated, that for several years they had purchased exemption from these barbaric forays by paying the tartars an annual tribute amounting to fifty thousand dollars each. sophia, anxious to wipe out this disgrace, renewed the effort, which had so often failed, to unite all europe against the turks. immense armies were raised by russia and poland and sent to the tauride. for two years a bloody war raged with about equal slaughter upon both sides, while neither party gained any marked advantage. [footnote : "la france n'avait eu encore aucune correspondance avec la russie; on ne le connaissait pas; et l'académie des inscriptions célébra par une médaille cette ambassade, comme si elle fut venue des indes."--_histoire de l'empire de russie, sous pierre le grand_, page .] peter had now attained his eighteenth year, and began to manifest pretty decisively a will of his own. he fell in love with a beautiful maiden, ottokesa lapuchin, daughter of one of his nobles, and, notwithstanding all the intriguing opposition of sophia, persisted in marrying her. this marriage increased greatly the popularity of the young prince, and it was very manifest that he would soon thrust sophia aside, and with his own vigorous arm, wield the scepter alone. the regent, whose hands were already stained with the blood of assassination, now resolved to remove peter out of the way. the young prince, with his bride, was residing at his country seat, a few miles out from moscow. sophia, in that corrupt, barbaric age, found no difficulty in obtaining, with bribes, as many accomplices as she wanted. two distinguished generals led a party of six hundred strelitzes out of the city, to surround the palace of peter and to secure his death. the soldiers had already commenced their march, when peter was informed of his danger. the tzar leaped upon a horse, and spurring him to his utmost speed, accompanied by a few attendants, escaped to the convent of the trinity, to which we have before alluded as one of the strongest fortresses of russia. the mother, wife and sister of the tzar, immediately joined him there. the soldiers were not aware of the mission which their leaders were intending to accomplish. when they arrived at the palace, and it was found that the tzar had fled, and it was whispered about that he had fled to save his life, the soldiers, by nature more strongly attached to a chivalrous young man than to an intriguing, ambitious woman, whose character was of very doubtful reputation, broke out into open revolt, and, abandoning their officers, marched directly to the monastery and offered their services to peter. the patriarch, whose religious character gave him almost unbounded influence with the people, also found that he was included as one of the victims of the conspiracy; that he was to have been assassinated, and his place conferred upon one of the partisans of sophia. he also fled to the convent of the trinity. sophia now found herself deserted by the soldiery and the nation. she accordingly, with the most solemn protestations, declared that she had been accused falsely, and after sending messenger after messenger to plead her cause with her brother, resolved to go herself. she had not advanced more than half way, ere she was met by a detachment of peter's friends who informed her, from him, that she must go directly back to moscow, as she could not be received into the convent. the next day peter assembled a council, and it was resolved to bring the traitors to justice. a colonel, with three hundred men, was sent to the kremlin to arrest the officers implicated in the conspiracy. they were loaded with chains, conducted to the trinity, and in accordance with the barbaric custom of the times were put to the torture. in agony too dreadful to be borne, they of course made any confession which was demanded. peter was reluctant to make a public example of his sister. there ensued a series of punishments of the conspirators too revolting to be narrated. the mildest of these punishments was exile to siberia, there, in the extremest penury, to linger through scenes of woe so long as god should prolong their lives. the executions being terminated and the exiles out of sight, sophia was ordered to leave the kremlin, and retire to the cloisters of denitz, which she was never again to leave. peter then made a triumphal entry into moscow. he was accompanied by a guard of eighteen thousand troops. his feeble brother ivan received him at the outer gate of the kremlin. they embraced each other with much affection, and then retired to their respective apartments. the wife and mother of peter accompanied him on his return to moscow. thus terminated the regency of sophia. from this time peter was the real sovereign of russia. his brother ivan took no other share in the government than that of lending his name to the public acts. he lived for a few years in great seclusion, almost forgotten, and died in . peter was physically, as well as intellectually, a remarkable man. he was tall and finely formed, with noble features lighted up with an extremely brilliant eye. his constitution was robust, enabling him to undergo great hardship, and he was, by nature, a man of great activity and energy. his education, however, was exceedingly defective. the regent sophia had not only exerted all her influence to keep him in ignorance, but also to allure him into the wildest excesses of youthful indulgence. even his recent marriage had not interfered with the publicity of his amours, and all distinguished foreigners in moscow were welcomed by him to scenes of feasting and carousing. notwithstanding these deplorable defects of character, for which much allowance is to be made from the neglect of his education and his peculiar temptations, still it was manifest to close observers even then, that the seeds of true greatness were implanted in his nature. when five years of age, he was riding with his mother in a coach, and was asleep in her arms. as they were passing over a bridge where there was a heavy fall of water from spring rains, the roar of the cataract awoke him. the noise, with the sudden aspect of the rushing torrent, created such terror that he was thrown into a fever, and, for years, he could not see any standing water, much less a running stream, without being thrown almost into convulsions. to overcome this weakness, he resolutely persisted in plunging into the waves until his aversion was changed into a great fondness for that element. ashamed of his ignorance, he vigorously commenced studying german, and, notwithstanding all the seductions of the court, succeeded in acquiring such a mastery of the language as to be able both to speak and write it correctly. peter's father, alexis, had been anxious to open the fields of commerce to his subjects. he had, at great expense, engaged the services of ship builders and navigators from holland. a frigate and a yacht had been constructed, with which the volga had been navigated to its mouth at astrachan. it was his intention to open a trade with persia through the caspian sea. but, in a revolt at astrachan, the vessels were seized and destroyed, and the captain killed. thus terminated this enterprise. the master builder, however, remained in russia, where he lived a long time in obscurity. one day, peter, at one of his summer palaces of ismaelhof, saw upon the shore of the lake the remains of a pleasure boat of peculiar construction. he had never before seen any boat but such as was propelled by oars. the peculiarity of the structure of this arrested his attention, and being informed that it was constructed for sails as well as oars, he ordered it to be repaired, that he might make trial of it. it so chanced that the shipwright, brandt, from holland, who had built the boat, was found, and the tzar, to his great delight, enjoyed, for the first time in his life, the pleasures of a sail. he immediately gave directions for the boat to be transported to the great lake near the convent of the trinity, and here he ordered two frigates and three yachts to be built. for months he amused himself piloting his little fleet over the waves of the lake. like many a plebeian boy, the tzar had now acquired a passion for the sea, and he longed to get a sight of the ocean. with this object in view, in he set out on a journey of nearly a thousand miles to archangel, on the shores of the white sea. taking his shipwrights with him, he had a small vessel constructed, in which he embarked for the exploration of the frozen ocean, a body of water which no sovereign had seen before him. a dutch man-of-war, which chanced to be in the harbor at archangel, and all the merchant fleet there accompanied the tzar on this expedition. the sovereign himself had already acquired much of the art of working a ship, and on this trip devoted all his energies to improvement in the science and practical skill of navigation. while the tzar was thus turning his attention to the subject of a navy, he at the same time was adopting measures of extraordinary vigor for the reorganization of the army. hitherto the army had been composed of bands of vassals, poorly armed and without discipline, led by their lords, who were often entirely without experience in the arts of war. peter commenced, at his country residence, with a company of fifty picked men, who were put through the most thorough drill by general gordon, a scotchman of much military ability, who had secured the confidence of the tzar. some of the sons of the lords were chosen as their officers, but these young nobles were all trained by the same military discipline, peter setting them the example by passing through all the degrees of the service from the very lowest rank. he shouldered his musket, and commencing at the humblest post, served as sentinel, sergeant and lieutenant. no one ventured to refuse to follow in the footsteps of his sovereign. this company, thus formed and disciplined, was rapidly increased until it became the royal guard, most terrible on the field of battle. when this regiment numbered five thousand men, another regiment upon the same principle was organized, which contained twelve thousand. it is a remarkable fact stated by voltaire, that one third of these troops were french refugees, driven from france by the revocation of the edict of nantes. one of the first efforts of the far-sighted monarch was to consolidate the army and to bring it under the energy of one mind, by breaking down the independence of the nobles, who had heretofore acted as petty sovereigns, leading their contingents of vassals. peter was thus preparing to make the influence of russia felt among the armies of europe as it had never been felt before. the russian empire, sweeping across siberian asia, reached down indefinitely to about the latitude of fifty-two degrees, where it was met by the chinese claims. very naturally, a dispute arose respecting the boundaries, and with a degree of good sense which seems almost incredible in view of the developments of history, the two half-civilized nations decided to settle the question by conference rather than by war. a place of meeting, for the embassadors, was appointed on the frontiers of siberia, about nine hundred miles from the great chinese wall. fortunately for both parties, there were some christian missionaries who accompanied the chinese as interpreters. probably through the influence of these men of peace a treaty was soon formed. both parties pledged themselves to the observance of the treaty in the following words, which were doubtless written by the missionaries: "if any of us entertain the least thought of renewing the flames of war, we beseech the supreme lord of all things, who knows the heart of man, to punish the traitor with sudden death." two large pillars were erected upon the spot to mark the boundaries between the two empires, and the treaty was engraved upon each of them. soon after, a treaty of commerce was formed, which commerce, with brief interruptions, has continued to flourish until the present day. peter now prepared, with his small but highly disciplined army, to make vigorous warfare upon the turks, and to obtain, if possible, the control of the black sea. early in the summer of the russian army commenced its march. striking the head waters of the don, they descended the valley of that river to attack the city of azov, an important port of the turks, situated on an island at the mouth of the don. the tzar accompanied his troops, not as commander-in-chief, but a volunteer soldier. generals gordon and le fort, veteran officers, had the command of the expedition. azov was a very strong fortress and was defended by a numerous garrison. it was found necessary to invest the place and commence a regular siege. a foreign officer from dantzic, by the name of jacob, had the direction of the battering train. for some violation of military etiquette, he had been condemned to ignominious punishment. the russians were accustomed to such treatment, but jacob, burning with revenge, spiked his guns, deserted, joined the enemy, adopted the mussulman faith, and with great vigor conducted the defense. jacob was a man of much military science, and he succeeded in thwarting all the efforts of the besiegers. in the attempt to storm the town the russians were repulsed with great loss, and at length were compelled to raise the siege and to retire. but peter was not a man to yield to difficulties. the next summer he was found before azov, with a still more formidable force. in this attempt the tzar was successful, and on the th of july the garrison surrendered without obtaining any of the honors of war. elated with success peter increased the fortifications, dug a harbor capable of holding large ships, and prepared to fit out a strong fleet against the turks; which fleet was to consist of nine sixty gun ships, and forty-one of from thirty to fifty guns. while the fleet was being built he returned to moscow, and to impress his subjects with a sense of the great victory obtained, he marched the army into moscow beneath triumphal arches, while the whole city was surrendered to all the demonstrations of joy. characteristically peter refused to take any of the credit of the victory which had been gained by the skill and valor of his generals. these officers consequently took the precedency of their sovereign in the triumphal procession, peter declaring that merit was the only road to military preferment, and that, as yet, he had attained no rank in the army. in imitation of the ancient romans, the captives taken in the war were led in the train of the victors. the unfortunate jacob was carried in a cart, with a rope about his neck, and after being broken upon the wheel was ignominiously hung. chapter xix. peter the great. from to . young russians sent to foreign countries.--the tzar decides upon a tour of observation.--his plan of travel.--anecdote.--peter's mode of life in holland.--characteristic anecdotes.--the presentation of the embassador.--the tzar visits england.--life at deptford.--illustrious foreigners engaged in his service.--peter visits vienna.--the game of landlord.--insurrection in moscow.--return of the tzar, and measures of severity.--war with sweden.--disastrous defeat of narva.--efforts to secure the shores of the baltic.--designs upon the black sea. it was a source of mortification to the tzar that he was dependent upon foreigners for the construction of his ships. he accordingly sent sixty young russians to the sea-ports of venice and leghorn, in italy, to acquire the art of ship-building, and to learn scientific and practical navigation. soon after this he sent forty more to holland for the same purpose. he sent also a large number of young men to germany, to learn the military discipline of that warlike people. he now adopted the extraordinary resolve of traveling himself, _incognito_, through most of the countries of europe, that he might see how they were governed, and might become acquainted with the progress they had made in the arts and sciences. in this european tour he decided to omit spain, because the arts there were but little cultivated, and france, because he disliked the pompous ceremonials of the court of louis xiv. his plan of travel was as ingenuous as it was odd. an extraordinary embassage was sent by him, as emperor of russia, to all the leading courts of europe. these embassadors received minute instructions, and were fitted out for their expedition with splendor which should add to the renown of the russian monarchy. peter followed in the retinue of this embassage as a private gentleman of wealth, with the servants suitable for his station. three nobles of the highest dignity were selected as embassadors. their retinue consisted of four secretaries, twelve gentlemen, two pages for each embassador, and a company of fifty of the royal guard. the whole embassage embraced two hundred persons. the tzar was lost to view in this crowd. he reserved for himself one valet de chambre, one servant in livery, and a dwarf. "it was," says voltaire, "a thing unparalleled in history, either ancient or modern, for a sovereign, of five and twenty years of age, to withdraw from his kingdoms, only to learn the art of government." the regency, during his absence, was entrusted to two of the lords in whom he reposed confidence, who were to consult, in cases of importance, with the rest of the nobility. general gordon, the scotch officer, was placed in command of four thousand of the royal troops, to secure the peace of the capital. the embassadors commenced their journey in april, . passing directly west from moscow to novgorod, they thence traversed the province of livonia until they reached riga, at the mouth of the dwina. peter was anxious to examine the important fortifications of this place, but the governor peremptorily forbade it, riga then belonging to sweden. peter did not forget the affront. continuing their journey, they arrived at konigsburg, the capital of the feeble electorate of brandenburg, which has since grown into the kingdom of prussia. the elector, an ambitious man, who subsequently took the title of king, received them with an extravagant display of splendor. at one of the bacchanalian feasts, given on the occasion, the bad and good qualities of peter were very conspicuously displayed. heated with wine, and provoked by a remark made by la fort, who was one of his embassadors, he drew his sword and called upon la fort to defend himself. the embassador humbly bowed, folded his hands upon his breast, and said, "far be it from me. rather let me perish by the hand of my master." the tzar, enraged and intoxicated, raised his arm to strike, when one of the retinue seized the uplifted hand and averted the blow. peter immediately recovered his self-possession, and sheathing his sword said to his embassador, "i ask your pardon. it is my great desire to reform my subjects, and yet i am ashamed to confess that i am unable to reform myself." from konigsburg they continued their route to berlin, and thence to hamburg, near the mouth of the elbe, which was, even then, an important maritime town. they then turned their steps towards amsterdam. as soon as they reached emmeric, on the rhine, the tzar, impatient of the slow progress of the embassage, forsook his companions, and hiring a small boat, sailed down the rhine and proceeded to amsterdam, reaching that city fifteen days before the embassy. "he flew through the city," says one of the annalists of those days, "like lightning," and proceeded to a small but active sea-port town on the coast, zaandam. the first person they saw here was a man fishing from a small skiff, at a short distance from the shore. the tzar, who was dressed like a common dutch skipper, in a red jacket and white linen trowsers, hailed the man, and engaged lodgings of him, consisting of two small rooms with a loft over them, and an adjoining shed. strangely enough, this man, whose name was kist, had been in russia working as a smith, and he knew the tzar. he was strictly enjoined on no account to let it be known who his lodger was. a group soon gathered around the strangers, with many questions. peter told them that they were carpenters and laborers from a foreign country in search of work. but no one believed this, for the attendants of the tzar still wore the rich robes which constituted the costume of russia. with sympathy as beautiful as it is rare, peter called upon several families of ship carpenters who had worked for him and with him at archangel, and to some of these families he gave valuable presents, which he said that the tzar of russia had sent to them. he clothed himself, and ordered his companions to clothe themselves, in the ordinary dress of the dockyard, and purchasing carpenters' tools they all went vigorously to work. the next day was the sabbath. the arrival of these strangers, so peculiar in aspect and conduct, was noised abroad, and when peter awoke in the morning he was greatly annoyed by finding a large crowd assembled before his door. indeed the rumor of the russian embassage, and that the tzar himself was to accompany it, had already reached amsterdam, and it was shrewdly suspected that these strangers were in some way connected with the expected arrival of the embassadors. one of the barbers in amsterdam had received from a ship carpenter in archangel a portrait of the tzar, which had been for some time hanging in his shop. he was with the crowd around the door. the moment his eye rested upon peter, he exclaimed, with astonishment, "_that is the tzar!_" his form, features and character were all so marked that he could not easily be mistaken. no further efforts were made at concealment, though peter was often very much annoyed by the crowds who followed his footsteps and watched all his actions. he was persuaded to change his lodgings to more suitable apartments, though he still wore his workman's dress and toiled in the ship-yard with energy, and also with skill which no one could surpass. the extraordinary rapidity of his motions astonished and amused the dutch. "such running, jumping and clambering over the shipping," they said, "we never witnessed before." to the patriarch in moscow he wrote, "i am living in obedience to the commands of god, which were spoken to father adam: '_in the sweat of thy brow shalt thou eat thy bread._'" very many anecdotes are related of peter during this portion of his life, which, though they may be apochryphal, are very characteristic of his eccentric nature. at one time he visited a celebrated iron manufactory, and forged himself several bars of iron, directing his companions to assist him in the capacity of journeymen blacksmiths. upon the bars he forged, he put his own mark, and then he demanded of muller, the proprietor, payment for his work, at the same rate he paid other workmen. having received eighteen _altins_, he said, looking at the patched shoes on his feet, "this will serve me to buy a pair of shoes, of which i stand in great need. i have earned them well, by the sweat of my brow, with hammer and anvil." when the embassadors entered amsterdam, peter thought it proper to take a part in the procession, which was arranged in the highest style of magnificence. the three embassadors rode first, followed by a long train of carriages, with servants in rich livery on foot. the tzar, dressed as a private gentleman, was in one of the last carriages in the train of his embassadors. the eyes of the populace searched for him in vain. from this fête he returned eagerly to his work, with saw, hammer and adz, at zaandam. he persisted in living like the rest of the workmen, rising early, building his own fire, and often cooking his own meals. one of the inhabitants of zaandam thus describes his appearance at that time: "the tzar is very tall and robust, quick and nimble of foot, dexterous and rapid in all his actions. his face is plump and round; fierce in his look, with brown eyebrows, and short, curly hair of a brownish color. he is quick in his gait, swinging his arms, and holding in one of them a cane." the dutch were so much interested in him, that a regular diary was kept in zaandam of all he said and did. those who were in daily intercourse with him preserved a memorandum of all that occurred. he was generally called by the name of master peter. while hard at work in the ship-yard, he received intelligence of troubles in poland. the renowned king, john sobieski, died in . the electors were divided in the choice of a successor. augustus ii., elector of saxony, by means of bribes and his army, obtained the vote. but there was great dissatisfaction, and a large party of the nation rallied around the prince of conti, the rival candidate. peter, learning these facts, immediately sent word, from his carpenter's shop, to augustus, offering to send an army of thirty thousand men to his assistance. he frequently went from zaandam to amsterdam, to attend the anatomical lectures of the celebrated ruisch. his thirst for knowledge appeared to be universal and insatiable. he even performed, himself, several surgical operations. he also studied natural philosophy under witsen. most minds would have been bewildered by such a multiplicity of employments, but his mental organization was of that peculiar class which grasps and retains all within its reach. he worked at the forge, in the rope-walks, at the sawing mills, and in the manufactures for wire drawing, making paper and extracting oil. while at zaandam, peter finished a sixty gun ship, upon which he had worked diligently from the laying of the keel. as the russians then had no harbor in the baltic, this ship was sent to archangel, on the shores of the white sea. peter also engaged a large number of french refugees, and swiss and german artists, to enter his service and sent them to moscow. whenever he found a mechanic whose work testified to superior skill, he would secure him at almost any price and send him to moscow. to geography he devoted great attention, and even then devised the plan of uniting the caspian and the black sea by a ship canal. early in january, , peter, having passed nine months at zaandam, left for the hague. king william iii. sent his yacht to the hague, to convey the tzar to england, with a convoy of two ships of war. peter left the hague on the th of january, and arrived in london on the st. though he attempted here no secrecy as to his rank, he requested to be treated only as a private gentleman. a large mansion was engaged for him, near the royal navy yard at deptford, a small town upon the thames, about four miles from london. the london postman, one of the leading metropolitan journals of that day, thus announces this extraordinary visit: "the tzar of muscovy, desiring to raise the glory of his nation, and avenge the christians of all the injuries they have received from the turks, has abrogated the wild manners of his predecessors, and having concluded, from the behavior of his engineers and officers, who were sent him by the elector of brandenburg, that the western nations of europe understood the art of war better than others, he resolved to take a journey thither, and not wholly to rely upon the relations which his embassadors might give him; and, at the same time, to send a great number of his nobility into those parts through which he did not intend to travel, that he might have a complete idea of the affairs of europe, and enrich his subjects with the arts of all other christian nations; and as navigation is the most useful invention that ever was yet found out, he seems to have chosen it as his own part in the general inquiry he is about. his design is certainly very noble, and discovers the greatness of his genius. but the model he has proposed himself to imitate is a convincing proof of his extraordinary judgment; for what other prince, in the world, was a fitter pattern for the great emperor of muscovy, than william the third, king of great britain?"[ ] [footnote : postman, no. .] in london and deptford peter followed essentially the same mode of life which he had adopted in amsterdam. there was not a single article belonging to a ship, from the casting of a cannon to the making of cables, to which he did not devote special attention. he also devoted some time to watch making. a number of english artificers, and also several literary and scientific gentlemen from england, were taken into his service. he made arrangements with a distinguished scotch geometrician and two mathematicians from christ church hospital, to remove to moscow, who laid the foundation in russia of the marine academy. to astronomy, the calculation of eclipses, and the laws of gravitation he devoted much thought, guided by the most scientific men england could then produce. perry, an english engineer, was sent to russia to survey a route for a ship canal from the ocean to the caspian and from the caspian to the black sea. a company of merchants paid the tzar seventy-five thousand dollars for permission to import tobacco into russia. the sale of this narcotic had heretofore been discouraged in russia, by the church, as demoralizing in its tendency and inducing untidy habits. peter was occasionally induced to attend the theater, but he had no relish for that amusement. he visited the various churches and observed the mode of conducting religious worship by the several sects. before leaving england the tzar was entertained by king william with the spectacle of a sham sea fight. in this scene peter was in his element, and in the excess of his delight he declared that an english admiral must be a happier man than even the tzar of russia. his britannic majesty made his guest also a present of a beautiful yacht, called the royal transport. in this vessel peter returned to holland, in may, , having passed four months in england. he took with him quite a colony of emigrants, consisting of three captains of men of war, twenty-five captains of merchant ships, forty lieutenants, thirty pilots, thirty surgeons, two hundred and fifty gunners, and three hundred artificers. these men from holland sailed in the royal transport to archangel, from whence they were sent to different places where their services were needed. the officers whom the tzar sent to italy, also led back to russia many artists from that country. from holland the emperor of russia, with his suite, repaired to vienna to observe the military discipline of the germans, who had then the reputation of being the best soldiers in europe. he also wished to enter into a closer alliance with the austrian court as his natural ally against the turks. peter, however, insisted upon laying aside all the ceremonials of royalty, and, as a private person, held an interview with the emperor leopold. nothing of especial interest occurred during the brief residence of peter in vienna. the emperor of germany paid the tzar every possible attention which could be conferred upon one who had the strongest reluctance to be gazed upon, or to take part in any parade. for the amusement of the tzar the emperor revived the ancient game of landlord. the royal game is as follows. the emperor is landlord, the empress landlady, the heir apparent to the throne, the archdukes and archduchesses are generally their assistants. they entertain people of all nations, dressed after the most ancient fashion of their respective countries. the invited guests draw lots for tickets, on each of which is written the name or the nation of the character they are to represent. one is a chinese mandarin, another a persian mirza, another a roman senator. a queen perhaps represents a dairy maid or a nursery girl. a king or prince represents a miller, a peasant or a soldier. characteristic amusements are introduced. the landlord and landlady, with their family, wait upon the table. on this occasion the emperor's eldest son, joseph, who was the heir apparent, represented, with the countess of traun, the ancient egyptians. his brother, the archduke charles, and the countess of walstein appeared as flemings in the reign of charles v. his sister mary and count fraun were tartars. josephine, another daughter of leopold, with the count of workla, represented persians. marianne, a third daughter, and prince maximilian of hanover were north holland peasants. peter presented himself as a friesland boor, a character, we regret to say, which the tzar could personify without making the slightest change in his usual habits, for peter was quite a stranger to the graces of the polished gentleman. this game seems to have been quite a favorite in the austrian court. maria antoinette introduced it to versailles. the tourist is still shown the dairy where that unhappy queen made butter and cheese, the mill where louis xvi. ground his grist, and the mimic village tavern where the king and queen of france, as landlord and landlady, received their guests. peter was just leaving vienna to go to venice when he received intelligence that a rebellion had broken out in moscow. his ambitious sister sophia, who had been placed with a shaven head in the cloisters of a monastery, took advantage of the tzar's absence to make another attempt to regain the crown. she represented that the nation was in danger of being overrun with foreigners, that their ancient customs would all be abolished, and that their religion would be subverted. she involved several of the clergy in her plans, and a band of eight thousand insurgents were assembled, who commenced their march towards moscow, hoping to rouse the metropolis to unite with them. general gordon, whom peter had left in command of the royal guard, met them, and a battle ensued in which a large number of the insurgents were slain, and the rest were taken prisoners and conducted to the capital. hearing these tidings peter abandoned all plans for visiting italy, and set out impetuously for moscow, and arrived at the kremlin before it was known that he had left germany. peter was a rough, stern man, and he determined to punish the abettors of this rebellion with severity, which should appall all the discontented. general gordon, in the battle, had slain three thousand of the insurgents and had taken five thousand captive. these prisoners he had punished, decimating them by lot and hanging every tenth man. peter rewarded magnificently the royal guard, and then commenced the terrible chastisement of all who were judged guilty of sympathizing in the conspiracy. some were broken on the wheel and then beheaded. others were hung in chains, on gibbets near the gates of the city, and left, frozen as solid as marble, to swing in the wind through the long months of winter. stone monuments were erected, on which were engraved the names, the crimes and the punishment of the rebels. a large number were banished to siberia, to astrachan, and to the shores of the sea of azof. the entire corps of the _strelitzes_ was abolished, and their place supplied by the new guard, marshaled and disciplined on the model of the german troops. the long and cumbersome robes which had been in fashion were exchanged for a uniform better adapted for rapid motion. the sons of the nobles were compelled to serve in the ranks as common soldiers before they could be promoted to be officers. many of the young nobles were sent to the tzar's fleet in the sea of azof to serve their apprenticeship for the navy. the revenue of the empire had thus far been raised by the payment of a stipulated sum from each noble according to his amount of land. the noble collected this sum from his vassals or bondmen; but they often failed of paying in the amount demanded. peter took now the collection of the revenue into his own hands, appointing officers for that purpose. reforms in the church he also undertook. the patriarch, adrian, who was the pope of the greek church, dying about this time, peter declared that he should have no successor. virtually assuming the authority of the head of the church, he gathered the immense revenues of the patriarchal see into the royal treasury. though professedly intrusting the government of the church to the bishops, he controlled them with despotism which could brook no opposition. anxious to promote the population of his vast empire, so sparsely inhabited, he caused a decree to be issued, that all the clergy, of every, grade, should be married; and that whenever one of the clergy lost a wife his clerical functions should cease until he obtained another. regarding the monastic vow, which consigned young men and young women to a life of indolence in the cloister, as alike injurious to morality and to the interests of the state, he forbade any one from taking that vow until after the age of fifty had been passed. this salutary regulation has since his time been repealed. the year, in russia, had for ages commenced with the st of september. peter ordered that, in conformity with the custom in the rest of europe, the year should commence with the st of january. this alteration took place in the year , and was celebrated with the most imposing solemnities. the national dress of the russians was a long flowing robe, which required no skill in cutting or making. razors were also scarce, and every man wore his beard. the tzar ordered long robes and beards to be laid aside. no man was admitted to the palace without a neatly shaven face. throughout the empire a penalty was imposed upon any one who persisted in wearing his beard. a smooth face thus became in russia, and has continued, to the present day, the badge of culture and refinement. peter also introduced social parties, to which ladies with their daughters were invited, dressed in the fashions of southern europe. heretofore, whenever a russian addressed the tzar, he always said, "your _slave_ begs," etc. peter abolished this word, and ordered _subject_ to be used instead. public inns were established on the highways, and relays of horses for the convenience of travelers. conscious of the power of splendor to awe the public mind, he added very considerably to the magnificence of his court, and instituted an order of knighthood. in all these measures peter wielded the energies of an unrelenting despotism, and yet of a despotism which was constantly devoted, not to his own personal aggrandizement, but to the welfare of his country. the tzar established his great ship-yard at voronise, on the don, from which place he could float his ships down to the sea of azof, hoping to establish there a fleet which would soon give him the command of the black sea. in march, , he had thirty-six ships launched and rigged, carrying each from thirty to sixty guns; and there were then twenty more ships on the stocks. there were, also, either finished or in process of construction, eighteen large galleys, one hundred smaller brigantines, seven bomb ships and four fire ships. at the same time peter was directing his attention to the volga and the caspian, and still more vigorously to the baltic, upon whose shores he had succeeded in obtaining a foothold. and now the kingdom of sweden came, with a rush, into the political arena. poland had ceded to sweden nearly the whole of livonia. the livonians were very much dissatisfied with the administration of the government under charles xi., and sent a deputation to stockholm to present respectful remonstrances. the indignant king consigned all of the deputation, consisting of eight gentlemen, to prison, and condemned the leader, john patgul, to an ignominious death. patgul escaped from prison, and hastening to poland, urged the new sovereign, augustus, to reconquer the province of livonia, which poland had lost, assuring him the livonians would aid with all their energies to throw off the swedish yoke. patgul hastened from poland to moscow, and urged peter to unite with augustus, in a war against sweden, assuring him that thus he could easily regain the provinces of ingria and carelia, which sweden had wrested from his ancestors. denmark also, under its new sovereign, frederic iv., was induced to enter into the alliance with russia and poland against sweden. just at that time, charles xi. died, and his son, charles xii., a young man of eighteen, ascended the throne. the youth and inexperience of the new monarch encouraged the allies in the hope that they might make an easy conquest. charles xii., a man of indomitable, of maniacal energy, and who speedily infused into his soldiers his own spirit, came down upon denmark like northern wolves into southern flocks and herds. in less than six weeks the war was terminated and the danes thoroughly humbled. then with his fleet of thirty sail of the line and a vast number of transports, he crossed the baltic, entered the gulf of finland, and marching over ice and snow encountered the russians at narva, a small town about eighty miles south-west of the present site of the city of st. petersburg. the russians were drawn up eighty thousand strong, behind intrenchments lined with one hundred and forty-five pieces of artillery; charles xii. had but nine thousand men. taking advantage of one of the fiercest of wintry storms, which blew directly into the faces of the russians, smothering them with snow and sleet mingled with smoke, and which concealed both the numbers and the movements of the swedes, charles xii. hurled his battalions with such impetuosity upon the foe, that in less than an hour the camp was taken by storm. one of the most awful routs known in the annals of war ensued. the swedes toiled to utter exhaustion in cutting down the flying fugitives. thirty thousand russians perished on that bloody field. nearly all of the remainder were taken captive, with all their artillery. disarmed and with uncovered heads, thirty thousand of these prisoners defiled before the victorious king.[ ] [footnote : these are the numbers as accurately as they can now be ascertained by the most careful sifting of the contradictory accounts. the forces of the russians have been variously estimated at from forty thousand to one hundred thousand. that the swedes had but nine thousand is admitted on all hands.] peter, the day before this disastrous battle, had left the intrenchments at narva to go to novgorod, ostensibly to hasten forward the march of some reinforcements. when peter was informed of the annihilation of his army he replied, with characteristic coolness, "i know very well that the swedes will have the advantage of us for a considerable time; but they will teach us, at length, to beat them." he immediately collected the fragments of his army at novgorod, and repairing to moscow issued orders for a certain proportion of the bells of the churches and convents throughout the empire to be cast into cannon and mortars. in a few months one hundred pieces of cannon for sieges, and forty-two field pieces, with twelve mortars and thirteen howitzers, were sent to the army, which was rapidly being rendezvoused at novgorod. charles xii., having struck this terrific blow, left the tzar to recover as best he could, and turned his attention to poland, resolved to hurl augustus from the throne. peter himself hurried to poland to encourage augustus to the most vigorous prosecution of the war, promising to send him speedily twenty thousand troops. in the midst of these disasters and turmoil, the tzar continued to prosecute his plans for the internal improvement of his empire, and commenced the vast enterprise of digging a canal which should unite the waters of the baltic with the caspian, first, by connecting the don with the volga, and then by connecting the don with the dwina, which empties into the baltic near riga. war continued to rage very fiercely for many months between the swedes on one side, and russia and poland on the other, charles xii. gaining almost constant victories. the swedes so signally proved their superiority in these conflicts, that when, on one occasion, eight thousand russians repulsed four thousand swedes, the tzar said, "well, we have at last beaten the swedes, when we were two to one against them. we shall by and by be able to face them man to man." in these conflicts, it was the constant aim of peter to get a foothold upon the shores of the baltic, that he might open to his empire the advantages of commerce. he launched a large fleet upon lake ladoga, a large inland sea, which, by the river neva, connects with the gulf of finland. the fleets of sweden penetrated these remote waters, and for months their solitudes resounded with the roar of naval conflicts. we can not refrain from recording the heroic conduct of colonel schlippenbuch, the swedish commander of the town of notteburg, on this lake. the town was invested by a large russian army. for a month the russians battered the town night and day, until it presented the aspect of a pile of ruins, and the garrison was reduced to one hundred men. yet, so indomitable was this little band, that, standing in the breaches, they extorted honorable terms of capitulation from their conqueror. they would not surrender but on condition of being allowed to send for two swedish officers, who should examine their remaining means of defense, and inform their master, charles xii., that it was impossible for them any longer to preserve the town. peter was a man of too strong sense to be elated and vainglorious in view of such success. he knew full well that charles xii., since the battle of narva, looked with utter contempt upon the russian soldiers, and he was himself fully conscious of the vast superiority of the swedish troops. but while charles xii., with a monarch's energies, was battering down the fortresses and cutting to pieces the armies of poland, peter had gained several victories over small detachments of swedish troops left in russia. to inspire his soldiers with more confidence, he ordered a very magnificent celebration of these victories in moscow. it was one of the most gorgeous fête days the metropolis had ever witnessed. the swedish banners, taken in several conflicts on sea and land, were borne in front of the procession, while all the prisoners, taken in the campaign, were marched in humiliation in the train of the victors. while thus employed, the stern, indefatigable tzar was pressing forward the building of his fleet on the don for the conquest of the black sea, and was unwearied in his endeavors to promote the elevation of his still semi-barbaric realms, by the introduction of the sciences, the arts, the manufactures and the social refinements of southern europe. chapter xx. conquests and achievements of peter the great. from to . peter takes lake lagoda and the neva.--foundation of st. petersburg.--conquest of livonia.--marienburg taken by storm.--the empress catharine.--extraordinary efforts in building st. petersburg.--threat of charles xii.--deposition of augustus.--enthronement of stanislaus.--battle of pultowa.--flight of charles xii. to turkey.--increased renown of russia.--disastrous conflict with the turks.--marriage of alexis.--his character.--death of his wife.--the empress acknowledged.--conquest of finland.--tour of the tzar to southern europe. charles xii., despising the russians, devoted all his energies to the humiliation of augustus of poland, resolving to pursue him until he had driven him for ever from his throne. peter was thus enabled to get the command of the lake of ladoga, and of the river neva, which connects that lake with the baltic. he immediately laid the foundations of a city, st. petersburg, to be his great commercial emporium, at the mouth of the neva, near the head of the gulf of finland. the land was low and marshy, but in other respects the location was admirable. its approaches could easily be defended against any naval attack, and water communications were opened with the interior through the neva and lake ladoga. livonia was a large province, about the size of the state of maine, nearly encircled by the gulf of riga, the baltic, the gulf of finland and lake tchude. the possession of this province, which contained some five hundred thousand inhabitants, was essential to peter in the prosecution of his commercial enterprises. during the prosecution of this war the small town of marienburg, on the confines of livonia, situated on the shores of a lake, was taken by storm. the town was utterly destroyed and nearly all the inhabitants slain, a few only being taken prisoners. the russian commanding officer saw among these captives a young girl of extraordinary beauty, who was weeping bitterly. attracted by such rare loveliness and uncontrollable grief he called her to him, and learned from her that she was born in a village in the vicinity on the borders of the lake; that she had never known her father, and that her mother died when she was but three years of age. the protestant minister of marienburg, dr. gluck, chancing to see her one day, and ascertaining that she was left an orphan and friendless, received her into his own house, and cherished her with true parental tenderness. the very evening before the town of marienburg was assaulted and taken by storm, she was married to a young livonian sergeant, a very excellent young man, of reputable family and possessing a little property. in the horrors of the tempest of war which immediately succeeded the nuptial ceremonies, her husband was slain, and as his body could never be found, it probably was consumed in the flames, which laid the town in ashes. general boyer, moved with compassion, took her under his protection. he ascertained that her character had always been irreproachable, and he ever maintained that she continued to be a pattern of virtue. she was but seventeen years of age when peter saw her. her beauty immediately vanquished him. his wife he had repudiated after a long disagreement, and she had retired to a convent. peter took the lovely child, still a child in years, under his own care, and soon privately married her, with how much sacredness of nuptial rites is not now known. such was the early history of catharine, who subsequently became the recognized and renowned empress of russia. "that a poor stranger," says voltaire, "who had been discovered amid the ruins of a plundered town, should become the absolute sovereign of that very empire into which she was led captive, is an incident which fortune and merit have never before produced in the annals of the world." the city of petersburg was founded on the d of may, , on a desert and marshy spot of ground, in the sixtieth degree of latitude. the first building was a fort which now stands in the center of the city. though peter was involved in all the hurry and confusion of war, he devoted himself with marvelous energy to the work of rearing an imperial city upon the bogs and the swamps of the neva. it required the merciless vigor of despotism to accomplish such an enterprise. workmen were marched by thousands from kesan, from astrachan, from the ukraine, to assist in building the city. no difficulties, no obstacles were allowed to impede the work. the tzar had a low hut, built of plank, just sufficient to shelter him from the weather, where he superintended the operations. this hut is still preserved as one of the curiosities of st. petersburg. in less than a year thirty thousand houses were reared, and these were all crowded by the many thousands peter had ordered to the rising city, from all parts of the empire. death made terrible ravages among them; but the remote provinces furnished an abundant supply to fill the places of the dead. exposure, toil, and the insalubrity of the marshy ground, consigned one hundred thousand to the grave during this first year. the morass had to be drained, and the ground raised by bringing earth from a distance. wheelbarrows were not in use there, and the laborers conveyed the earth in baskets, bags and even in the skirts of their clothes, scooping it up with their hands and with wooden paddles. the tzar always manifested great respect for the outward observances of religion, and was constant in his attendance upon divine service. as we have mentioned, the first building the tzar erected was a fort, the second was a church, the third a hotel. in the meantime private individuals were busily employed, by thousands, in putting up shops and houses. the city of amsterdam was essentially the model upon which st. petersburg was built. the wharves, the canals, the bridges and the rectangular streets lined with trees were arranged by architects brought from the dutch metropolis. when charles xii. was informed of the rapid progress the tzar was making in building a city on the banks of the neva, he said, "let him amuse himself as he thinks fit in building his city. i shall soon find time to take it from him and to put his wooden houses in a blaze." five months had not passed away, from the commencement of operations upon these vast morasses at the mouth of the neva, ere, one day, it was reported to the tzar that a large ship under dutch colors was in full sail entering the harbor. peter was overjoyed at this realization of the dearest wish of his heart. with ardor he set off to meet the welcome stranger. he found that the ship had been sent by one of his old friends at zaandam. the cargo consisted of salt, wine and provisions generally. the cargo was landed free from all duties and was speedily sold to the great profit of the owners. to protect his capital, peter immediately commenced his defenses at cronstadt, about thirty miles down the bay. from that hour until this, russia has been at work upon those fortifications, and they can now probably bid defiance to all the navies of the world. charles xii., sweeping poland with fire and the sword, drove augustus out of the kingdom to his hereditary electorate of saxony, and then, convening the polish nobles, caused stanislaus leszczynski, one of his own followers, to be elected sovereign, and sustained him on the throne by all the power of the swedish armies.[ ] the swedish warrior now fitted out a fleet for the destruction of cronstadt and petersburg. the defense of the province was intrusted to menzikoff. this man subsequently passed through a career so full of vicissitudes that a sketch of his varied life thus far seems important. he was the son of one of the humblest of the peasants living in the vicinity of moscow. when but thirteen years of age he was taken into the service of a pastry cook to sell pies and cakes about the streets, and he was accustomed to attract customers by singing jocular songs. the tzar chanced to hear him one day, and, diverted by his song and struck by his bright, intelligent appearance, called for the boy, and offered to purchase his whole stock, both cakes and basket. [footnote : see empire of austria, page .] the boy replied, "it is my business to sell the cakes, and i have no right to sell the basket without my master's permission. yet, as every thing belongs to our prince, your majesty has only to give the command, and it is my duty to obey." this adroit, apt answer so pleased the tzar that he took the lad into his service, giving him at first some humble employment. but being daily more pleased with his wit and shrewdness, he raised him, step by step, to the highest preferment. under the tuition of general le fort, he attained great skill in military affairs, and became one of the bravest and most successful of the russian generals. early in the spring of the swedish fleet, consisting of twenty-two ships of war, each carrying about sixty guns, besides six frigates, two bomb ketches and two fire ships, approached cronstadt. at the same time a large number of transports landed a strong body of troops to assail the forts in the rear. this was the most formidable attack charles xii. had yet attempted in his wars. though the swedes almost invariably conquered the russians in the open field, menzikoff, from behind his well-constructed redoubts, beat back his assailants, and st. petersburg was saved. the summer passed away with many but undecisive battles, until the storms of the long northern winter separated the combatants. the state of exasperation was now such that the most revolting cruelties were perpetrated on both sides. the campaign of opened most disastrously to russia. in four successive pitched battles the forces of the tzar had been defeated. augustus was humbled to the dust, and was compelled to write a letter to stanislaus congratulating him upon his accession to the throne. he also ignominiously consented to deliver up the unfortunate livonian noble, patgul, whose only crime was his love for the rights and privileges of his country. charles xii. caused this unhappy noble to be broken upon the wheel, thus inflicting a stain upon his own character which can never be effaced. the haughty swedish monarch seemed now to be sovereign over all of northern europe excepting russia. augustus, driven from the throne of poland, was permitted to hold the electorate of saxony only in consequence of his abject submission to charles xii. stanislaus, the new polish sovereign, was merely a vassal of sweden. and even the emperor joseph of germany paid implicit obedience to the will of a monarch who had such terrible armies at his command. under these circumstances some of the powers endeavored to secure peace between sweden and russia. the french envoy at the court of sweden introduced the subject. charles xii. proudly replied, "i shall treat with the tzar in the city of moscow." peter, being informed of this boast and threat, remarked, "my brother charles wants to act the part of alexander, but he shall not find in me a darius." charles xii., from his triumphant invasion of saxony, marched with an army of forty-five thousand men through poland, which was utterly desolated by war, and crossing the frontiers of russia, directed his march to moscow. driving all opposition before him, he arrived upon the banks of the dnieper, and without much difficulty effected the passage of the stream. peter himself, with menzikoff, now hastened to the theater of conflict, and summoned his mightiest energies to repel the foe. battle after battle ensued with varying results. but the situation of the swedish conqueror was fast growing desperate. he was far from home. his regiments were daily diminishing beneath the terrible storms of war, while recruits were pouring in, from all directions, to swell the ranks of the tzar. it was the month of december. the villages had been all burned and the country turned into a desert. the cold was so intense that on one particular march two thousand men dropped down dead in their ranks. the wintry storms soon became so severe that both parties were compelled to remain for some time in inaction. every poor peasant, within fifty miles, was robbed by detachments of starving soldiers. the moment the weather permitted, both armies were again in action. charles xii. had taken a circuitous route towards moscow, through the ukraine, hoping to rouse the people of this region to join his standards. this plan, however, proved an utter failure. about the middle of june the two armies, led by their respective sovereigns, met at pultowa, upon the worskla, near its point of junction with the dnieper, about four hundred miles south of moscow. several days were passed in maneuvering and skirmishing in preparation for a decisive struggle. it was evident to all europe that the great battle to ensue would decide the fate of russia, poland and sweden. thirty thousand war-worn veterans were marshaled under the banners of charles xii. the tzar led sixty thousand troops into the conflict. fully aware of the superiority of the swedish troops, he awaited the attack of his formidable foe behind his redoubts. in one of the skirmishes, two days before the great battle, a bullet struck charles xii., shattering the bone of his heel. it was an exceedingly painful wound, which was followed by an equally painful operation. though the indomitable warrior was suffering severely, he caused himself to be borne in a litter to the head of his troops, and led the charge. the attack upon the intrenchments was made with all the characteristic impetuosity of these demoniac fighters. notwithstanding the storm of grape shot which was hurled into their faces, covering the ground with the mangled and the dead, two of the redoubts were taken, and shouts of victory ran along the lines of the swedes. the action continued with fiend-like ferocity for two hours. charles xii., with a pistol in his hand, was borne on his litter from rank to rank, animating his troops, until a cannon ball, striking down one of his bearers, also shattered the litter into fragments, and dashed the bandaged monarch to the ground. with as much calmness as though this were an ordinary, everyday occurrence, charles ordered his guards immediately to make another litter with their pikes. he was placed upon it, and continued to direct the battle, paying no more attention to bullets, balls and bombshells, than if they had been snow flakes. peter was equally prodigal of danger. death in that hour was more desirable to him than defeat, for charles xii., victorious, would march direct to moscow, and russia would share the fate of poland. the tzar was conspicuous at every point where the battle raged most fiercely. several bullets pierced his clothes; one passing through his hat just grazed the crown of his head. at length, the swedes, overpowered by numbers, gave way, and fled in great confusion. charles, though agonized by his wound, was compelled to mount on horseback as the only means of escape from capture. the black hour of woe came, which sooner or later meets almost every warrior, however successful for a time his career may be. the blow was fatal to charles xii. more than nine thousand of the swedes were left dead upon the field of battle. eighteen thousand were taken prisoners. the swedish king, with a few hundred troops in his retinue, cut off from his retreat towards sweden, crossed the dnieper and fled to turkey. peter did not pursue him, but being informed of his desperate resolve to seek refuge in the territory of the turks, he magnanimously wrote a letter to him, urging him not to take so perilous a step, assuring him, upon his honor, that he would not detain him as a prisoner, but that all their difficulties should be settled by a reasonable peace. a special courier was dispatched with this letter, but he could not overtake the fugitives. when the courier arrived at the river boy, which separates the deserts of ukraine from the territories of the grand seignor, the swedes had already crossed the river. in the character of peter there was a singular compound of magnanimity and of the most brutal insensibility and mercilessness. he ordered all the swedish generals, who were his captives, to be introduced to him, returned to them their swords and invited them to dine. with a gracefulness of courtesy rarely surpassed, he offered as a toast the sentiment, "to the health of my masters in the art of war." and yet, soon after, he consigned nearly all these captives to the horrors of siberian exile. this utter defeat of charles xii. produced a sudden revolution in poland, sweden and saxony. peter immediately dispatched a large body of cavalry, under menzikoff, to poland, to assist augustus in regaining his crown. soon after, he followed himself, at the head of an army, and entering warsaw in triumph, on the th of october, , replaced augustus upon the throne from which charles xii. had ejected him. the whole kingdom acknowledged peter for their protector. peter then marched to the electorate of brandenburg, which had recently been elevated into the kingdom of prussia, and performing the functions of his own embassador, entered into a treaty with frederic i., grandfather of frederic the great. he then returned with all eagerness to st. petersburg, and pressed forward the erection of new buildings and the enlargement of the fleet. a magnificent festival was here arranged in commemoration of the great victory of pultowa. nine arches were reared, beneath which the procession marched, in the most gorgeous array of civic and military pageantry. the artillery of the vanquished, their standards, the shattered litter of the king, and the vast array of captives, soldiers and officers, all on foot, followed in the train of the triumphal procession, while the ringing of bells, the explosion of an hundred pieces of artillery, and the shouts of an innumerable multitude, added to the enthusiasm which the scene inspired. the battle of pultowa gave peter great renown throughout europe, and added immeasurably to the reputation of russia. an occurrence had taken place in london which had deeply offended the tzar, who, wielding himself the energies of despotism, could form no idea of that government of law which was irrespective of the will of the sovereign. the russian embassador at the court of queen anne had been arrested at the suit of a tradesman in london, and had been obliged to give bail to save himself from the debtor's prison. peter, regarding this as a personal insult, demanded of queen anne satisfaction. she expressed her regret for the occurrence, but stated, that according to the laws of england, a creditor had a right to sue for his just demands, and that there was no statute exempting foreign embassadors from being arrested for debt. peter, who had no respect for constitutional liberty, was not at all satisfied with this declaration, but postponed further action until his conflict with sweden should be terminated. now, in the hour of victory, he turned again to queen anne and demanded reparation for what he deemed the insult offered to his government. he threatened, in retaliation, to take vengeance upon all the merchants and british subjects within his dominions. this was an appalling menace. queen anne accordingly sent lord whitworth on a formal embassy to the tzar, with a diplomatic lie in his mouth. addressing peter in the flattering words of "most high and mighty emperor," he assured him, that the offending tradesman had been punished with imprisonment and rendered infamous, and that an act of parliament should be passed, rendering it no longer lawful to arrest a foreign embassador. the offender had not been punished, but the act was subsequently passed. the acknowledgment, accompanied by such flattering testimonials of respect, was deemed satisfactory. the tzar had demanded the death of the offender. every englishman must read with pride the declaration of queen anne in reference to this demand. "there are," said she, "insuperable difficulties with respect to the ancient and fundamental laws of the government of our people, which we fear do not _permit_ so severe and rigorous a sentence to be given, as your imperial majesty first seemed to expect in this case. and we persuade ourselves that your imperial majesty, who are a prince famous for clemency and exact justice, will not require us, who are the _guardian and protector of the laws_, to inflict a punishment on our subjects which the law does not empower us to do." the whole of livonia speedily fell into the hands of the tzar and was reannexed to russia. pestilence, which usually follows in the train of war, now rose from the putridity of battle fields, and sweeping, like the angel of death, over the war-scathed and starving inhabitants of livonia, penetrated sweden. whole provinces were depopulated, and in stockholm alone thirty thousand perished. the war of the spanish succession was now raging, and every nation in europe was engaged in the work of destruction and butchery. spain, portugal, italy, france, the german empire, england, holland, denmark, sweden, poland, were all in arms, and hundreds of millions of men were directly or indirectly employed in the work of mutual destruction. the fugitive king, charles xii., was endeavoring to enlist the energies of the ottoman porte in his behalf, and the grand seignor had promised to throw his armies also, two hundred thousand strong, into the arena of flame and blood, and to march for the conquest of russia. peter, conscious of the danger of an attack from turkey, raised an army of one hundred and twenty-five thousand men, when he was informed that the turks, with a combined army of two hundred and ten thousand troops, were ravaging the province of azof. urging his troops impetuously onward, he crossed the pruth and entered jassi, the capital of moldavia. the grand vizier, with an army three times more numerous, crossed the danube and advanced to meet him. for three days the contending hosts poured their shot into each other's bosoms. the tzar, outnumbered and surrounded, though enabled to hold his position behind his intrenchments, saw clearly that famine would soon compel him to surrender. his position was desperate. catharine had accompanied her husband on this expedition, and, at her earnest solicitation, the tzar sent proposals of peace to the grand vizier, accompanied with a valuable present of money and jewels. the turk, dreading the energies which despair might develop in so powerful a foe, was willing to come into an accommodation, and entered into a treaty, which, though greatly to the advantage of the ottoman porte, rescued the tzar from the greatest peril in which he had ever been placed. the grand vizier good-naturedly sent several wagons of provisions to the camp of his humbled foes, and the russians returned to their homes, having lost twenty thousand men. alexis, the oldest son of peter, had ever been a bad boy, and he had now grown up into an exceedingly dissolute and vicious young man. indolent, licentious, bacchanalian in his habits, and overbearing, his father had often threatened to deprive him of his right of succession, and to shave his crown and consign him to a convent. hoping to improve his character, he urged his marriage, and selected for him a beautiful princess of wolfenbuttle, as the possessions of the dukes of brunswick were then called. the old ducal castle still stands on the banks of the oka about forty miles south-east of hanover. the princess of wolfenbuttle, who was but eighteen years of age, was sister to the empress of germany, consort of charles vi. the young russian prince was dragged very reluctantly to this marriage, for he wished to be shackled by no such ties. he was the son of peter's first wife, not of the empress catharine, whom the tzar had now acknowledged. peter and catharine attended these untoward nuptials, which were celebrated in the palace of the queen of poland, in which a princess as lovely in character as in person was sacrificed to one who made the few remaining months of her life a continued martyrdom. but little more than a year had passed after their marriage ere she was brought to bed of a son. her heart was already broken, and she was quite unprepared for the anguish of such an hour. though the sweetness of her disposition and the gentleness of her manners had endeared her to all her household, her husband treated her with the most brutal neglect and cruelty. unblushingly he introduced into the palace his mistresses, and the saloons ever resounded with the uproar of his drunken companions. the woe-stricken princess, then but twenty years of age, covered her face with the bed clothes, and, weeping bitterly, refused to take any nourishment, and begged the physicians to permit her to die in peace. intelligence was immediately sent to the tzar of the confinement of his daughter in-law, and of her dangerous situation. he hastened to her chamber. the interview was short, but so affecting that the tzar, losing all self-control, burst into an agony of grief and wept like a child. the dying princess commended to his care her babe and her servants, and, as the clock struck the hour of midnight, her spirit departed, we trust to that world "where the wicked cease from troubling and the weary are at rest." the orphan babe was baptized as peter alexis, and subsequently, on the death of the empress catharine, became emperor of russia. on the th of february, , peter, who had previously acknowledged his private marriage with catharine, had the marriage publicly solemnized at st. petersburg with the utmost pomp. soon after this, to the inexpressible joy of both parents, catharine gave birth to a son. the war with sweden still continued, notwithstanding charles xii. was a fugitive in turkey unable to return to his own country. finland, a vast realm containing one hundred and thirty-five thousand square miles and almost embraced by the gulfs of bothnia and of finland, then belonged to sweden. peter fitted out an expedition from st. petersburg for the conquest of that country. with three hundred ships, conveying thirteen thousand men, he effected a landing in the vicinity of abo notwithstanding the opposition of the swedish force there, and, establishing his troops in redoubts with ample supplies, he returned to st. petersburg for reinforcements. he soon returned, and, with an army augmented to twenty thousand foot and four thousand horse, with a powerful train of artillery, commenced a career of conquest. the city of abo, on the coast, the capital of finland, fell unresistingly into his hands with a large quantity of provisions. there was a flourishing university here containing a valuable library. peter sent the books to st. petersburg, and they became the foundation of the present royal library in that place. the tzar, leaving the prosecution of the war to his generals, returned to st. petersburg. many and bloody battles were fought in those northern wilds during the summer, in most of which the russians had the advantage, gaining citadel after citadel until winter drove the combatants from the field. with indefatigable zeal peter pressed forward in his plan to give splendor and power to his new city of petersburg. one thousand families were moved there from moscow. very flattering offers were made to induce foreigners to settle there, and a decree was issued declaring petersburg to be the only port of entry in the empire. he ordered that no more wooden houses should be built, and that all should be covered with tile; and to secure the best architects from europe, he offered them houses rent free, and entire exemption from taxes for fourteen years. the campaign of another summer, that of , rendered the tzar the master of the whole province of finland. in the autumn of this year, charles xii., escaped from turkey, where he had performed pranks outrivaling don quixote, and had finally been held a prisoner. he traversed hungary and germany in disguise, and traveling day and night, in such haste that but one of his attendants could keep up with him, arrived, exhausted and haggard, in sweden. he was received with the liveliest demonstrations of joy, and immediately placed himself again at the head of the swedish armies. the tzar, however, conscious that he now had not much to fear from sweden, left the conduct of the desultory war with his generals, and set out on another tour of observation to southern europe. the lovely catharine, who, with the fairy form and sylph-like grace of a girl of seventeen, had won the love of peter, was now a staid and worthy matron of middle life. she had, however, secured the abiding affection of the tzar, and he loved to take her with him on all his journeys. catharine, though on the eve of again becoming a mother, accompanied her husband as far as holland. through stralsund, mecklenburg and hamburg, they proceeded to rostock, where a fleet of forty-five galleys awaited him. the emperor took the command, and hoisting his flag, sailed to copenhagen. here he was entertained for two months with profuse hospitality by the king of denmark, during which time he studied, with sleepless vigilance, the institutions and the artistic attainments of the country. about the middle of december he arrived at amsterdam. the city gave him a splendid reception, and he was welcomed by the earl of albemarle in a very complimentary speech, pompous and flowery. the uncourteous tzar bluntly replied, "i thank you heartily, though i don't understand much of what you say. i learned my dutch among ship-builders, but the sort of language you have spoken i am sure i never learned." some of his old companions, who were ship-builders, and had acquired wealth, invited him to dine. they addressed him as "your majesty." peter cut them short, saying, "come, brothers, let us converse like plain and honest ship-carpenters." a servant brought him some wine. "give me the jug," said he laughing, "and then i can drink as much as i please, and no one can tell how much i have taken." he hastened to zaandam, where he was received with the utmost joy by his old friends from whom he had parted nineteen years before. an old woman pressed forward to greet him. "my good woman," said the tzar, "how do you know who i am?" "i am the widow," she said, "of baas pool, at whose table your majesty so often sat nineteen years ago." the emperor kissed her upon the forehead and invited her to dine with him that very day. one of his first visits was to the little cottage, or rather hut, which he had occupied while residing there. the cottage is still carefully preserved, having been purchased in by the sister of the emperor alexander, and enclosed in another building with large arched windows. the room was even then regarded as sacred. in the center stood the oaken table and the three wooden chairs which constituted the furniture when peter occupied it. the loft was ascended by a ladder which still remains. with all the roughness of peter's exterior, he had always been a man of deep religious feelings, and through all his life was in habits of daily prayer. this loft had been his place of private devotion to which he daily ascended. upon entering the cottage and finding every thing just as he had left it, the tzar was for a moment much affected. he ascended the ladder to his closet of prayer in the loft, and there remained alone with his god for a full half hour. eventful indeed and varied had his life been since there, a young man of twenty-five, he had daily sought divine guidance. chapter xxi. the trial and condemnation of alexis and death of the tzar. from to . the tzar's second visit to holland.--reception in france.--description of catharine.--domestic grief.--conduct of alexis.--letters from his father.--flight to germany.--thence to naples.--envoys sent to bring him back.--alexis excluded from the succession.--his trial for treason.--condemnation and unexpected death.--new efforts of the tzar for the welfare of russia.--sickness of peter.--his death.--succession of the empress catharine.--epitaph to the emperor. from holland the tzar went to paris. great preparations were made there for his reception, and apartments in the louvre were gorgeously fitted up for the accommodation of him and his suite. but peter, annoyed by parade, declined the sumptuous palace, and, the very evening of his arrival, took lodgings at the hotel de lesdiguieres. to those who urged his acceptance of the saloons of the louvre he replied, "i am a soldier. a little bread and beer satisfy me. i prefer small apartments to large ones. i have no desire to be attended with pomp and ceremony, nor to give trouble to so many people." every hour of his stay in paris was employed in studying the institutions of the realm, and the progress made in the arts and sciences. standing by the tomb of richelieu, which is one of the finest pieces of sculpture in europe, he exclaimed, "thou great man! i would have given thee one half of my dominions to learn of thee how to govern the other half." all the trades and manufactures of the capital he examined with the greatest care, and took back with him to st. petersburg a large number of the most skillful artists and mechanics. leaving france he returned to amsterdam, where he rejoined catharine, and proceeded with her to berlin. a haughty german lady, piqued, perhaps, that a woman not of noble birth should be an empress, thus describes the appearance of catharine at that time: "the tzarina is short and lusty, remarkably coarse, without grace and animation. one need only see her to be satisfied of her low birth. at the first blush one would take her for a german actress. her clothes looked as if bought at a doll shop; every thing was so old fashioned and so bedecked with silver and tinsel. she was decorated with a dozen orders, portraits of saints, and relics, which occasioned such a clatter that when she walked one would suppose that an ass with bells was approaching. the tzar, on the contrary, was tall and well made. his countenance is handsome, but there is something in it so rude that it inspires one with dread. he was dressed like a seaman, in a frock, without lace or ornament."[ ] [footnote : memoires de la margrave de bareith.] on peter's return to russia, he was compelled to meet and grasp a trouble which for fifteen years had embittered his life. his son, alexis, had ever been a thorn in his father's side. he was not only indolent and dissipated, but he was utterly opposed to all his father's measures for reform, and was continually engaged in underhand measures to head a party against him. upon the death of the unhappy princess of wolfenbuttle, wife of this worthless prince, the grieved and indignant father wrote to him as follows: "i shall wait a little while longer to see if there be any hopes of your reform. if not, i shall cut you off from the succession as one lops off a dead branch. do not think that i wish to intimidate you; and do not place too much reliance upon the fact that you are my only son.[ ] if i am willing to lay down my own life for russia, do you think that i shall be willing to sacrifice my country for you? i would rather transmit the crown to an entire stranger worthy of the trust, than to my own child unworthy of it." [footnote : the empress gave birth to a son shortly after this letter was written.] this letter produced no effect upon the shameless debauchee. he continued unchecked in his career of infamy. in acknowledging the receipt of his father's letter, he contemptuously replied that he had no wish for the crown, and that he was ready at any time to take an oath that he would renounce it for ever. matters were in this position when the tzar left for denmark. he had hardly arrived in copenhagen when he received dispatches informing him that his son was gathering around him all the disaffected, and was seriously endangering the tranquillity of the state. once more the anxious father wrote to him in these words: "i observe in your letter that you say not a word of the affliction your conduct has caused me for so many years. a father's admonitions seem to produce no impression upon you. i have prevailed on myself to write you once more, and for the last time. those _bushy beards_ bind you to their purposes. they are the persons whom you trust, who place their hopes in you; and you have no gratitude to him who gave you life. since you were of age have you ever aided your father in his toils? have you not opposed every thing i have done for the good of my people? have i not reason to believe that should you survive me you will destroy all that i have accomplished? amend your life. render yourself worthy of the succession, or turn monk. reply to this either in person or in writing. if you do not i shall treat you as a criminal." the reply of alexis, was laconic indeed. it consisted of just four lines, and was as follows: "your letter of the th i received yesterday. my illness prevents me from writing at length. i intend to embrace the monastic life, and i request your gracious consent to that effect." seven months passed away, during which the tzar heard nothing directly from his son, though the father kept himself informed of his conduct. as peter was returning from france he wrote to his son reproaching him for his long silence, and requesting him, if he wished to amend his ways and secure his father's favor, to meet him at copenhagen; but that if, on the contrary, he preferred to enter a convent, which was the only alternative, he should inform him by the return courier, that measures might be adopted to carry the plan immediately into effect. this brought matters to a crisis. the last thing the bloated debauchee wished was to enter a convent. he was equally averse to a sober life, and dared not meet his father lest he should be placed under arrest. he consequently made no reply, but pretending that he was to set out immediately for copenhagen, he secured all the treasure he could lay his hands upon and fled to germany, to the court of the emperor charles vi., who, it will be remembered, was his brother-in-law, having married a sister of his deceased wife. here he told a deplorable story of the cruelty of his father, of the persecutions to which he was exposed, and that to save his life he had been compelled to flee from russia. the emperor, knowing full well that the young man was an infamous profligate, was not at all disposed to incur the displeasure of peter by apparently espousing the cause of the son against the father. he consequently gave the miscreant such a cold reception that he found the imperial palace any thing but a pleasant place of residence, and again he set out on his vagabond travels. the next tidings his father heard of him were that he was in naples, spending, as ever, his substance in riotous living. a father's heart still yearned over the miserable young man, and compassion was blended with disappointment and indignation. he immediately dispatched two members of his court, m. romanzoff, captain of the royal guards, and m. toltoi, a privy counselor, to naples, to make a last effort to reclaim his misguided son. they found the young man in the chateau of saint elme, and presented to him a letter from his father. it was dated spa, july , , and contained the following words: "i write to you for the last time. toltoi and romanzoff will make known to you my will. if you obey me, i assure you, and i promise before god, that i will not punish you, but if you will return to me i will love you better than ever. but if you will not return to me, i pronounce upon you, as your father, in virtue of the power i have received from god, my eternal malediction; and, as your sovereign, i assure you that i shall find means to punish you, in which i trust god will assist me." it required the most earnest persuasion, and even the intervention of the viceroy of naples, to induce alexis to return to russia. the miserable man had a harem of abandoned women with him, with whom he set out on his return. they arrived in moscow the th of february, , and on that very day peter had an interview with his son. no one knows what passed in that interview. the rumor of the arrival of alexis spread rapidly through the city, and it was supposed that a reconciliation had taken place. but the next morning, at the earliest dawn, the great bell of moscow rang an alarm, the royal guards were marshaled and the privy counselors of the emperor were summoned to the kremlin. alexis was led, without his sword and as a prisoner, into the presence of his father. at the same time, all the high ecclesiastics of the church were assembled, in solemn conclave, in the cathedral church. alexis fell upon his knees before his father, confessed his faults, renounced all claim to the succession and entreated only that his life might be spared. the tzar led his son into an adjoining room, where they for some time remained alone. he then returned to his privy council and read a long statement, very carefully drawn up, minutely recapitulating the conduct of alexis, his indolence, his shameless libertinism, his low companionship, his treasonable designs, and exhibiting his utter unfitness, in all respects, to be entrusted with the government of an empire. this remarkable document was concluded with the following words: "now although our son, by such criminal conduct, merits the punishment of death, yet our paternal affection induces us to pardon his crimes and to exempt him from the penalty which is his due. but considering his unworthiness, as developed in the conduct we have described, we can not, in conscience, bequeath to him the throne of russia, foreseeing that, by his vicious courses, he would degrade the glory of our nation, endanger its safety and speedily lose those provinces which we have recovered from our foes with so much toil and at so vast an expense of blood and treasure. to inflict upon our faithful subjects the rule of such a sovereign, would be to expose them to a condition worse than russia has ever yet experienced. we do therefore, by our paternal authority, in virtue of which, by the laws of our empire, any of our subjects may disinherit a son and give his succession to such other of his sons as he pleases, and, in quality of sovereign prince, in consideration of the safety of our dominions, we do deprive our son, alexis, for his crimes and unworthiness, of the succession after us to our throne of russia, and we do constitute and declare successor to the said throne after us our second son, peter. "we lay upon our said son, alexis, our paternal curse if ever, at any time, he pretends to, or reclaims said succession, and we desire our faithful subjects, whether ecclesiastics or seculars, of all ranks and conditions, and the whole russian nation, in conformity to this, our will, to acknowledge our son peter as lawful successor, and to confirm the whole by oath before the holy altar upon the holy gospel, kissing the cross. and all those who shall ever oppose this, our will, and shall dare to consider our son, alexis, as successor, we declare traitors to us and to their country. we have ordered these presents to be everywhere promulgated, that no person may pretend ignorance. given at moscow, february d, ." this document was then taken to the cathedral, where all the higher ecclesiastics had been assembled, and was read to them. nothing was omitted which could invest the act with solemnity, there is every evidence that the heart of the father was rent with acutest anguish in all these proceedings. nothing could have been more desirable to him than to transmit the empire his energies had rendered so illustrious, to his own son to carry on the enterprises his father had commenced. but to place eighteen millions of people in the hands of one who had proved himself so totally unworthy, would have been the greatest cruelty. the exclusion of alexis from the succession was the noblest act of peter's life. but new facts were soon developed which rendered it impossible for the unhappy father to stop even here. evidence came to light that alexis had been plotting a conspiracy for the dethronement of his father, and for the seizure of the crown by violence. his mother, whom the tzar had repudiated, and his energetic aunt, mary, both of whom were in a convent, were involved in the plot. he had applied to his brother-in-law, the emperor of germany, for foreign troops to aid him. there were many restless spirits in the empire, turbulent and depraved, the boon companions of alexis, who were ready for any deeds of desperation which might place alexis on the throne. the second son of the emperor, the child of catharine, was an infant of but a few months old. the health of peter was infirm and his life doubtful. it was manifest that immediately upon the death of the tzar, alexis would rally his accomplices around him, raise the banner of revolt against the infant king, and that thus the empire would be plunged into all the horrors of a long and bloody civil war. peter having commenced the work of self-sacrifice for the salvation of russia, was not disposed to leave that work half accomplished. all knew that the infamous alexis would shrink from no crime, and there was ample evidence of his treasonable plots. the father now deliberately resolved to arraign his son for high treason, a crime which doomed him to death. aware of the awful solemnity of such a moment, and of the severity with which his measures and his motives would be sifted by posterity, he proceeded with the greatest, circumspection. a high court of justice was organized for the trial, consisting of two chambers, the one ecclesiastical, the other secular. on the th of june, , the court was assembled, and the tzar presented to them the documentary evidence, which had been carefully obtained, of his son's treasonable designs, and thus addressed them: "though the flight of alexis, the son of the tzar, and a part of his crimes be already known, yet there are now discovered such unexpected and surprising attempts, as plainly show with what baseness and villainy he endeavored to impose on us, his sovereign and father, and what perjuries he hath committed against almighty god, all which shall now be laid before you. though, according to all laws, civil and divine, and especially those of this empire, which grant fathers absolute jurisdiction over their children, we have full power to judge our son according to our pleasure, yet, as men are liable to prejudice in their own affairs, and as the most eminent physicians rely not on their own judgment concerning themselves, but call in the advice of others, so we, under the awful fear of displeasing god, make known our disease, and apply to you for a cure. as i have promised pardon to my son in case he should declare to me the truth, and though he has forfeited this promise by concealing his rebellious designs, yet, that we may not swerve from our obligation, we pray you to consider this affair with seriousness, and report what punishment he deserves without favor or partiality either to him or me. let not the reflection that you are passing sentence on the son of your prince have any influence on you, but administer justice without respect of persons. destroy not your own souls and mine, by doing any thing which may injure our country or upbraid our consciences in the great and terrible day of judgment." the evidence adduced against the young prince, from his own confession, and the depositions which had been taken, were very carefully considered, nearly a month being occupied in the solemnities of deliberation. a verdict was finally rendered in the form of a report to the emperor. it was a long, carefully-worded document, containing a statement of the facts which the evidence substantiated against the culprit. the conclusion was as follows: "it is evident, from the whole conduct of the son of the tzar, that he intended to take the crown from the head of his father and place it upon his own, not only by a civil insurrection, but by the assistance of a foreign army which he had actually requested. he has therefore rendered himself unworthy of the clemency promised by the emperor; and, since all laws, divine, ecclesiastical, civil and military, condemn to death, without mercy, not only those who attempt rebellion against their sovereign, but those who are plotting such attempts, what shall be our judgment of one who has conspired for the commission of a crime almost unparalleled in history--the assassination of his sovereign, who was his own father, a father of great indulgence, who reared his son from the cradle with more than paternal tenderness, who, with incredible pains, strove to educate him for government, and to qualify him for the succession to so great an empire? how much more imperatively does such a crime merit death. "it is therefore with hearts full of affliction, and eyes streaming with tears, that we, as subjects and servants, pronounce this sentence against the son of our most precious sovereign lord, the tzar. nevertheless, it being his pleasure that we should act in this capacity, we, by these presents, declare our real opinion, and pronounce this sentence of condemnation with a pure conscience as we hope to answer at the tribunal of almighty god. we submit, however, this sentence to the sovereign will and revisal of his imperial majesty, our most merciful sovereign." this sentence was signed by all the members of the court, one hundred and eighty in number; and on the th of july it was read to the guilty prince in the castle where he was kept confined. the miserable young man, enfeebled in body and mind by debaucheries, was so overwhelmed with terror, as his death warrant was read, that he was thrown into convulsions. all the night long fit succeeded fit, as, delirious with woe, he moaned upon his bed. in the morning a messenger was dispatched to the tzar to inform him that his son was seriously sick; in an hour another messenger was sent stating that he was very dangerously sick; and soon a third messenger was dispatched with the intelligence that alexis could not survive the day, and was very anxious to see his father. peter, scarce less wretched than his miserable son, hastened to his room. the dying young man, at the sight of his father, burst into tears, confessed all his crimes, and begged his father's blessing in this hour of death. tears coursed down the cheeks of the stern emperor, and he addressed his dying child in terms so pathetic, and so fervently implored god's pardon for him, that the stoutest hearts were moved and loud sobbings filled the room. it was midday of the th of july, . the prince was confined in a large chamber of a stone castle, which was at the same time a palace and a fortress. there lay upon the couch the dying alexis, bloated by the excesses of a life of utter pollution, yet pale and haggard with terror and woe. the iron-hearted father, whose soul this sublime tragedy had-melted, sat at his side weeping like a child. the guards who stood at the door, the nobles and ecclesiastics who had accompanied the emperor, were all unmanned, many sobbing aloud, overwhelmed by emotions utterly uncontrollable. this scene stamps the impress of almost celestial greatness upon the soul of the tzar. he knew his son's weakness, incompetency and utter depravity, and even in that hour of agony his spirit did not bend, and he would not sacrifice the happiness of eighteen millions of people through parental tenderness for his debauched and ruined child. about six o'clock in the evening the wretched alexis breathed his last, and passed from the tribunals of earth to the judgment-seat of god. the emperor immediately seemed to banish from his mind every remembrance of his crimes, and his funeral was attended with all the customary demonstrations of affection and respect. peter, fully aware that this most momentous event of his life would be severely criticised throughout the world, sent a statement of the facts to all the courts of europe. in his letter, which accompanied these statements, he says: "while we were debating in our mind between the natural emotions of paternal clemency on one side, and the regard we ought to pay to the preservation and the future security of our kingdom on the other, and pondering what resolution to take in an affair of so great difficulty and importance, it pleased the almighty god, by his especial will and his just judgment, and by his mercy to deliver us out of that embarrassment, and to save our family and kingdom from the shame and the dangers by abridging the life of our said son alexis, after an illness with which he was seized as soon as he had heard the sentence of death pronounced against him. "that illness appeared at first like an apoplexy; but he afterwards recovered his senses and received the holy sacraments; and having desired to see us, we went to him immediately, with all our counselors and senators; and then he acknowledged and sincerely confessed all his said faults and crimes, committed against us, with tears and all the marks of a true penitent, and begged our pardon, which, according to christian and paternal duty, we granted him; after which on the th of july, at six in the evening, he surrendered his soul to god." the tzar endeavored to efface from his memory these tragic scenes by consecrating himself, with new energy, to the promotion of the interests of russia. utterly despising all luxurious indulgence, he lived upon coarse fare, occupied plainly-furnished rooms, dressed in the extreme of simplicity and devoted himself to daily toil with diligence, which no mechanic or peasant in the realm could surpass. the war still continued with sweden. on the night of the th of november, of this year, , the madman charles xii. was instantly killed by a cannon ball which carried away his head as he was leaning upon a parapet, in the siege of fredericshall in norway. the death of this indomitable warrior quite changed the aspect of european affairs. new combinations of armies arose and new labyrinths of intrigue were woven, and for several years wars, with their usual successes and disasters, continued to impoverish and depopulate the nations of europe. at length the tzar effected a peace with sweden, that kingdom surrendering to him the large and important provinces of livonia, esthonia, ingria and carelia. this was an immense acquisition for russia. with the utmost vigilance the tzar watched the administration of all the internal affairs of his empire, punishing fraud, wherever found, with unrelenting severity. the enterprise which now, above all others, engaged his attention, was to open direct communication, by means of canals, between st. petersburg and the caspian sea. the most skillful european engineers were employed upon this vast undertaking, by which the waters of lake ladoga were to flow into the volga, so that the shores of the baltic and distant persia might be united in maritime commerce. the sacred scriptures were also, by command of the emperor, translated into the russian language and widely disseminated throughout the empire. the russian merchants were continually receiving insults, being plundered and often massacred by the barbaric tribes on the shores of the caspian. peter fitted out a grand expedition from astrachan for their chastisement, and went himself to that distant city to superintend the important operations. a war of twelve months brought those tribes into subjection, and extended the russian dominion over vast and indefinite regions there. catharine, whom he seemed to love with all the fervor of youth, accompanied him on this expedition. returning to st. petersburg in , peter resolved to accomplish a design which he for some time had meditated, of placing the imperial crown upon the brow of his beloved wife. their infant son had died. their grandson, peter, the son of alexis, was still but a child, and the failing health of the tzar admonished him that he had not many years to live. reposing great confidence in the goodness of catharine and in the wisdom of those counselors whom, with his advice, she would select, he resolved to transmit the scepter, at his death, to her. in preparation for this event, catharine was crowned empress on the th of may, , with all possible pomp. the city of petersburg had now become one of the most important capitals of europe. peter was not only the founder of this city, but, in a great measure, the architect. an observatory for astronomical purposes was reared, on the model of that in paris. a valuable library was in the rapid progress of collection, and there were several cabinets formed, filled with the choicest treasures of nature and art. there were now in russia a sufficient number of men of genius and of high literary and scientific attainment to form an academy of the arts and sciences, the rules and institutes of which the emperor drew up with his own hand. while incessantly engaged in these arduous operations, the emperor was seized with a painful and dangerous sickness--a strangury--which confined him to his room for four months. feeling a little better one day, he ordered his yacht to be brought up to the neva, opposite his palace, and embarked to visit some of his works on lake ladoga. his physicians, vainly remonstrating against it, accompanied him. it was the middle of october. the weather continuing fine, the emperor remained upon the water, visiting his works upon the shore of the lake and of the gulf of finland, until the th of november. the exposures of the voyage proved too much for him, and he returned to petersburg in a state of debility and pain which excited the greatest apprehensions. the disease made rapid progress. the mind of the emperor, as he approached the dying hour, was clouded, and, with the inarticulate mutterings of delirium, he turned to and fro, restless, upon his bed. his devoted wife, for three days and three nights, did not leave his side, and, on the th of january, , at four o'clock in the afternoon, he breathed his last, in her arms. before the dethronement of his reason, the tzar had assembled around his bed the chief dignitaries of the empire, and had requested them, as soon as he should be dead, to acknowledge the empress catharine as their sovereign. he even took the precaution to exact from them an oath that they would do this. peter died in the fifty-third year of his age. none of the children whom he had by his first wife survived him. both of the sons whom he had by the empress catharine were also dead. two daughters still lived. after the empress catharine, the next heir to the throne was his grandson, peter, the orphan child of the guilty alexis. immediately upon the death of the emperor, the senate assembled and unanimously declared catharine empress of russia. in a body, they waited upon catharine with this announcement, and were presented to her by prince menzikoff. the mourning for the tzar was universal and heartfelt. the remains were conveyed to the tomb with all the solemnities becoming the burial of one of the greatest monarchs earth has ever known. over his remains the empress erected a monument sculptured by the most accomplished artists of italy, containing the following inscription: here lieth all that could die of a man immortal, peter alexouitz; it is almost superfluous to add great emperor of russia; a title which, instead of adding to his glory, became glorious by his wearing it. let antiquity be dumb, nor boast her alexander or her cÆsar. how easy was victory to leaders who were followed by heroes, and whose soldiers felt a noble disdain at being thought less vigilant than their generals! but he, who in this place first knew rest, found subjects base and inactive, unwarlike, unlearned, untractable, neither covetous of fame nor fearless of danger-creatures with the names of men, but with qualities rather brutal than rational yet even these he polished from their native ruggedness, and, breaking out like a new sun to illumine the minds of a people, dispelled their night of hereditary darkness, and, by force of his invincible influence, taught them to conquer even the conquerors of germany. other princes have commanded victorious armies; this commander created them. exult, o nature! for thine was this prodigy. blush, o art! at a hero who owed thee nothing; chapter xxii. the reigns of catharine i. anne, the infant ivan and elizabeth. from to . energetic reign of catharine.--her sudden death.--brief reign of peter ii.--difficulties of hereditary succession.--a republic contemplated.--anne, daughter of ivan.--the infant ivan proclaimed king--his terrible doom.--elizabeth, daughter of peter the great enthroned.--character of elizabeth.--alliance with maria theresa.--wars with prussia.--great reverses of frederic of prussia.--desperate condition of frederic.--death of elizabeth.--succession of peter iii. the new empress, catharine i., was already exceedingly popular, and she rose rapidly in public esteem by the wisdom and vigor of her administration. early in june her eldest daughter, anne, was married with much pomp to the duke of holstein. it was a great novelty to the russians to see a woman upon the throne; and the neighboring states seemed inspired with courage to commence encroachments, thinking that they had but little to apprehend from the feeble arm of a queen. poland, sweden and denmark were all animated with the hope that the time had now come in which they could recover those portions of territory which, during past wars, had been wrested from them by russia. catharine was fully aware of the dangers thus impending, and adopted such vigorous measures for augmenting the army and the fleet as speedily to dispel the illusion. catharine vigorously prosecuted the measures her husband had introduced for the promotion of the civilization and enlightenment of her subjects. she took great care of the young prince peter, son of the deceased alexis, and endeavored in all ways to educate him so that he might be worthy to succeed her upon the throne. this young man, the grandson of peter the great, was the only prince in whose veins flowed the blood of the tzars. the academy of sciences at st. petersburg, which peter had founded, was sedulously fostered by catharine. the health of the empress was feeble when she ascended the throne, and it rapidly declined. she, however, continued to apply herself with great assiduity to public affairs until the middle of april, when she was obliged to take her bed. there is no "royal road" to death. after four weeks of suffering and all the humbling concomitants of disease and approaching dissolution, the empress breathed her last at nine o'clock in the evening of the th of may, , after a reign of but little more than two years, and in the forty-second year of her age. upon her death-bed catharine declared peter ii., the son of alexis, her successor; and as he was but twelve years of age, a regency was established during his minority. menzikoff, however, the illustrious favorite of peter the great, who had been appointed by catharine generalissimo of all the armies both by land and sea, attained such supremacy that he was in reality sovereign of the empire. during the reign, of catharine russia presented the extraordinary spectacle of one of the most powerful and aristocratic kingdoms on the globe governed by an empress whose origin was that of a nameless girl found weeping in the streets of a sacked town--while there rode, at the head of the armies of the empire, towering above grand dukes and princes of the blood, the son of a peasant, who had passed his childhood the apprentice of a pastry cook, selling cakes in the streets of moscow. such changes would have been extraordinary at any period of time and in any quarter of the world; but that they should have occurred in russia, where for ages so haughty an aristocracy had dominated, seems almost miraculous. menzikoff; elated by the power which the minority of the king gave him, assumed such airs as to excite the most bitter spirit of hostility among the nobles. they succeeded in working his ruin; and the boy emperor banished him to siberia and confiscated his immense estates. the blow was fatal. sinking into the most profound melancholy, menzikoff lingered for a few months in the dreary region of his exile, and died in . peter the second did not long survive him. but little more than two years elapsed after the death of catharine, when he, being then a lad of but fourteen years of age, was seized with the small-pox and died the th of january, . one daughter of peter the great and of catharine still survived. some of the principal of the nobility, seeing how many difficulties attended hereditary succession, which at one time placed the crown upon the brow of a babe in the cradle, again upon a semi-idiot, and again upon a bloated and infamous debauchee, conferred upon the subject of changing the government into a republic. but russia was not prepared for a reform so sudden and so vast. after much debate it was decided to offer the crown to anne, duchess of courland, who was second daughter of the imbecile ivan, who, for a short time, had nominally occupied the throne, associated with his brother peter the great. she had an elder sister, catharine, who was married to the duke of mecklenburg. so far as the right of birth was concerned, catharine was first entitled to the succession. but as the duke of mecklenburg, whose grand duchy bordered upon the baltic, and which was equal to about one half the state of massachusetts, was engaged in a kind of civil war with his nobles, it was therefore thought best to pass her by, lest the empire should become involved in the strife in which her husband was engaged. as ivan was the elder brother, it was thought that his daughters should have the precedence over those of peter. another consideration also influenced the nobles who took the lead in selecting anne. they thought that she was a woman whom they could more easily control than catharine. these nobles accordingly framed a new constitution for the empire, limiting the authority of the queen to suit their purposes. but anne was no sooner seated upon the throne, than she grasped the scepter with vigor which astounded all. she banished the nobles who had interfered with the royal prerogatives, and canceled all the limitations they had made. she selected a very able ministry, and gave the command of her armies to the most experienced generals. while sagacity and efficiency marked her short administration, and russia continued to expand and prosper, no events of special importance occurred. she united her armies with those of the emperor of germany in resisting the encroachments of france. she waged successful war against the turks, who had attempted to recover azof. in this war, the crimean tartars were crushed, and russian influence crowded its way into the immense crimean peninsula. the energies of anne caused russia to be respected throughout europe. as the empress had no children, she sent for her niece and namesake, anne, daughter of her elder sister, catharine, duchess of mecklenburg, and married her to one of the most distinguished nobles of her court, resolved to call the issue of this marriage to the succession. on the th of august, , this princess was delivered of a son, who was named ivan. the empress immediately pronounced him her successor, placing him under the guardianship of his parents. the health of the empress was at this time rapidly failing, and it was evident to all that her death was not far distant. in anticipation of death, she appointed one of her favorites, john ernestus biron, regent, during the minority of the prince. baron osterman, high chancellor of russia, had the rank of prime minister, and count munich, a soldier of distinguished reputation, was placed in the command of the armies, with the title of field marshal. these were the last administrative acts of anne. the king of terrors came with his inevitable summons. after a few weeks of languor and suffering, the queen expired in october, . a babe, two months old, was now emperor of russia. the senate immediately met and acknowledged the legitimacy of his claims. the foreign embassadors presented to him their credentials, and the marquis of chetardie, the french minister, reverentially approaching the cradle, made the imperially majestic baby a congratulatory speech, addressing him as ivan v., emperor of all the russias, and assuring him of the friendship of louis xv., sovereign of france. the regent, as was usually the case, arrogating authority and splendor, soon became excessively unpopular, and a conspiracy of the nobles was formed for his overthrow. on the night of the th of november the conspirators met in the palace of the grand duchess, anne, mother of the infant emperor, unanimously named her regent of the empire, arrested biron, and condemned him to death, which sentence was subsequently commuted to siberian exile. elizabeth, the daughter of peter, was now thirty-eight years of age. though very beautiful, she was unmarried, and resided in the palace in a state of splendid captivity. a party now arose who secretly conspired to overthrow the regency of anne, and to depose the infant ivan and place elizabeth upon the throne. the plot being fully matured, on the night of the th of december a body of armed men repaired to the palace, where they met elizabeth, who was ready to receive them, and marched, with her at their head, to the barracks, where she was enthusiastically received by the soldiers. the spirit of her father seemed at once to inspire her soul. with a voice of authority, as if born to command, she ordered the regiments to march to different quarters of the city and to seize all the prominent officers of the government. then leading, herself, a regiment to the palace, she took possession of the infant emperor and of his mother, the regent. they were held in captivity, though, at first, treated with all the consideration which became their birth. this revolution was accepted by the people with the loudest demonstrations of joy. the memory of peter the great was enshrined in every heart, and all exulted in placing the crown upon his daughter's brow. the next morning, at the head of the royal guards and all the other troops of the metropolis, elizabeth was proclaimed empress of russia. in one week from this time, the deposed infant emperor, ivan, who was then thirteen months old, was sent, with his parents, from petersburg to riga, where they were for a long time detained in a castle as prisoners. two efforts which they made for escape were frustrated. this conspiracy, which was carried to so successful a result, was mainly founded in the hostility with which the russians regarded the foreigners who had been so freely introduced to the empire by peter the great, and who occupied so many of the most important posts in the state. thus the succession of elizabeth was, in fact, a counter revolution, arresting the progress of reform and moving russia back again toward the ancient barbarism. but elizabeth soon expended her paroxysm of energy, and surrendered herself to luxury and to sensual indulgence unsurpassed by any debauchee who ever occupied a throne. jealous of sharing her power, she refused to take a husband, though many guilty favorites were received to her utmost intimacy. the doom of the deposed ivan and his parents was sad, indeed. they were removed for safe keeping to an island in the white sea, fifty miles beyond archangel, a region as desolate as the imagination can well conceive. here, after a year of captivity, the infant ivan was torn from his mother and removed to the monastery of oranienburg, where he was brought up in the utmost seclusion, not being allowed to learn either to read or write. the bereaved mother, anne, lingered a couple of years until she wept away her life, and found the repose of the grave in . her husband survived thirty years longer, and died in prison in . it was an awful doom for one who had committed no crime. the whole course of history proves that in this life we see but the commencement of a divine government, and that "after death cometh the judgment." a humane monk, taking pity upon the unfortunate little ivan, attempted to escape with him. he had reached smolensk, when he was arrested. the unhappy prince was then conveyed to the castle of schlusselburg, where he was immersed in a dungeon which no ray of the sun could ever penetrate. a single lamp burning in his cell only revealed its horrors. the prince could not distinguish day from night, and had no means of computing the passage of the hours. food was left in his cell, and the attendants, who occasionally entered, were prohibited from holding any conversation with the child. this treatment, absolutely infernal, soon reduced the innocent prince to a state almost of idiocy. twice elizabeth ordered him to be brought to petersburg, where she conversed with him without letting him know who she was; but she did nothing to alleviate his horrible doom. after the death of elizabeth, her successor, peter iii., made ivan a visit, without making himself known. touched with such an aspect of misery, he ordered an apartment to be built in an angle of the fortress, for ivan, who had now attained the age of manhood, where he could enjoy air and light. the sudden death of peter defeated this purpose, and ivan was left in his misery. still weary years passed away while the prince, dead to himself as well as to the world, remained breathing in his tomb. catharine ii., after her accession to the throne, called to see ivan. she thus describes her visit: "after we had ascended the throne, and offered up to heaven our just thanksgivings, the first object that employed our thoughts, in consequence of that humanity which is natural to us, was the unhappy situation of that prince, who was dethroned by divine providence, and had been unfortunate ever since his birth; and we formed the resolution of alleviating his misfortunes as far as possible. "we immediately made a visit to him in order to judge of his understanding and talents, and to procure him a situation suitable to his character and education. but how great was our surprise to find, that in addition to a defect in his utterance, which rendered it difficult for him to speak, and still more difficult to be understood, we observed an almost total deprivation of sense and reason. those who accompanied us, during this interview, saw how much our heart suffered at the contemplation of an object so fitted to excite compassion; they were also convinced that the only measure we could take to succor the unfortunate prince was to leave him where we found him, and to procure him all the comforts and conveniences his situation would admit of. we accordingly gave our orders for this purpose, though the state he was in prevented his perceiving the marks of our humanity or being sensible of our attention and care; for he knew nobody, could not distinguish between good and evil, nor did he know the use that might be made of reading, to pass the time with less weariness and disgust. on the contrary, he sought pleasure in objects that discovered with sufficient evidence the disorder of his imagination." soon after this poor ivan was cruelly assassinated. an officer in the russian army, named mirovitch, conceived an absurd plan of liberating ivan from his captivity, restoring him to the throne, and consigning catharine ii. to the dungeon the prince had so long inhabited. mirovitch had command of the garrison at schlusselburg, where ivan was imprisoned. taking advantage of the absence of the empress, on a journey to livonia, he proceeded to the castle, with a few soldiers whose coöperation he had secured through the influence of brandy and promises, knocked down the commandant of the fortress with the butt end of a musket, and ordered the officers who had command of the prisoner to bring him to them. these officers had received the secret injunction that should the rescue of the prince ever be attempted, they were to put him to death rather than permit him to be carried off. they accordingly entered his cell, and though the helpless captive made the most desperate resistance, they speedily cut him down with their swords. history has few narratives so extraordinary as the fate of ivan. a forced marriage was arranged that a child might be generated to inherit the russian throne. when this child was but a few days old he was declared emperor of all the russias, and received the congratulations of the foreign embassadors. when thirteen months of age he was deposed, and for the crime of being a king, was thrown into captivity. to prevent others from using him as the instrument of their purposes, he was thrown into a dungeon, and excluded from all human intercourse, so that like a deaf child he could not even acquire the power of speech. for him there was neither clouds nor sunshine, day nor night, summer nor winter. he had no employment, no amusement, no food for thought, absolutely nothing to mark the passage of the weary hours. the mind became paralyzed and almost idiotic by such enormous woe. such was his doom for twenty-four years. he was born in , and assassinated under the reign of catharine ii., in . the father of ivan remained in prison eleven years longer until he died. from this tragedy let us turn back to the reign of elizabeth. it was the great object of this princess to undo all that her illustrious father had done, to roll back all the reforms he had commenced, and to restore to the empire its ancient usages and prejudices. the hostility to foreigners became so bitter, that the queen's guard formed a conspiracy for a general massacre, which should sweep them all from the empire. elizabeth, conscious of the horror such an act would inspire throughout europe, was greatly alarmed, and was compelled to issue a proclamation, in defense of their lives. "the empress," she said in this proclamation, "can never forget how much foreigners have contributed to the prosperity of russia. and though her subjects will at all times enjoy her favors in preference to foreigners, yet the foreigners in her service are as dear to her as her own subjects, and may rely on her protection." in the mean time, elizabeth was prosecuting with great vigor the hereditary war with sweden. russia was constantly gaining in this conflict, and at length the swedes purchased peace by surrendering to the russians extensive territories in finland. the favor of russia was still more effectually purchased by the swedes choosing for their king, adolphus frederic, duke of the russian province of holstein, and kinsman of elizabeth. the boundaries of russia were thus enlarged, and sweden became almost a tributary province of the gigantic empire. maria theresa was now empress of austria, and she succeeded in enlisting the coöperation of elizabeth in her unrelenting warfare with frederic of prussia. personal hostility also exasperated elizabeth against the prussian monarch, for in some of his writings he had spoken disparagingly of the humble birth of elizabeth's mother, catharine, the wife of peter the first; and a still more unpardonable offense he had committed, when, flushed with wine, at a table where the russian embassador was present, he had indulged in witticisms in reference to the notorious gallantries of the empress. a woman who could plunge, into the wildest excesses of licentiousness, still had sensibility enough to resent the taunts of the royal philosopher. in , elizabeth and maria theresa entered into an agreement to resist _all further augmentation_ of the prussian power. in the bloody seven years' war between frederic and maria theresa, the heart of elizabeth was always with the austrian queen, and for five of those years their armies fought side by side. in the year , elizabeth sent an army of one hundred thousand men into prussia. they committed every outrage which fiends could perpetrate; and though victorious over the armies of frederic, they rendered the country so utterly desolate, that through famine they were compelled to retreat. burning villages and mangled corpses marked their path. the next year, , another russian army invaded prussia, overran nearly the whole kingdom, and captured konigsburg. the victorious russians thinking that all of prussia was to be annexed to their dominions, began to treat the prussians tenderly and as countrymen. an order was read from the churches, that if any prussian had cause of complaint against any russian, he should present it at the military chancery at konigsburg, where he would infallibly have redress. the inhabitants of the conquered realm were all obliged to swear fealty to the empress of russia. the prussian army was at this time in silesia, struggling against the troops of maria theresa. the warlike frederic soon returned at the head of his indomitable hosts, and attacking the russians about six miles from kustrin, defeated them in one of the most bloody battles on record, and drove the shattered battalions, humiliated and bleeding, out of the territory. the summer of again found the russian troops spread over the prussian territory. in great force the two hostile armies soon met on the banks of the oder. the russians, posted upon a line of commanding heights, numbered seventy thousand. frederic fiercely assailed them through the most formidable disadvantages, with but thirty thousand men. the slaughter of the prussians was fearful, and frederic, after losing nearly eight thousand of his best troops in killed and wounded and prisoners, sullenly retired. the russian troops were now strengthened by a reinforcement of twelve thousand of the choicest of the austrian cavalry, and still presenting, notwithstanding their losses, a solid front of ninety thousand men. frederic, bringing every nerve into action, succeeded in collecting and bringing again into the field fifty thousand troops.[ ] notwithstanding the disparity in numbers, it seemed absolutely necessary that the king of prussia should fight, for the richest part of his dominions was in the hands of the allied prussians and austrians, and berlin was menaced. the field of battle was on the banks of the oder, near frankfort. [footnote : some authorities give the russians eighty thousand and the prussians forty thousand.] on the th of june, , at two o'clock in the morning, the king of prussia formed his troops in battle array, behind a forest which concealed his movements from the enemy. the battle was commenced with a fierce cannonade; and in the midst of the thunderings and carnage of this tempest of war, solid columns emerged from the ranks of the prussians and pierced the russian lines. the attack was too impetuous to be resisted. from post to post the prussians advanced, driving the foe before them, and covering the ground with the slain. for six hours of almost unparalleled slaughter the victory was with the prussians. seventy-two pieces of cannon fell into the hands of the victors, and at every point the russians were retreating. frederic, in his exultation, scribbled a note to the empress, upon the field of battle, with the pommel of his saddle for a tablet, and dispatched it to her by a courier. it was as follows: "madam: we have beat the russians from their entrenchments. in two hours expect to hear of a glorious victory." but in less than two hours the tide of victory turned. the day was one of excessive heat. an unclouded sun poured its burning rays upon the field, and at midday the troops and the horses, having been engaged for six hours in one of the severest actions which was ever known, were utterly beat out and fainting with exhaustion. just then the whole body of the russian and austrian cavalry, some fourteen thousand strong, which thus far had remained inactive, came rushing upon the plain as with the roar and the sweep of the whirlwind. the foe fell before them as the withered grass before the prairie fire. frederic was astounded by this sudden reverse, and in the anguish of his spirit plunged into the thickest of the conflict. two horses were shot beneath him. his clothes were riddled with balls. another courier was dispatched to the empress from the sanguinary field, in the hottest speed. the note he bore was as follows: "remove from berlin with the royal family. let the archives be carried to potsdam, and the capital make conditions with the enemy." as night approached, frederic assembled the fragments of his army, exhausted and bleeding, upon some heights, and threw up redoubts for their protection. twenty thousand of his troops were left upon the field or in the hands of the enemy. every cannon he had was taken. scarcely a general or an inferior officer escaped unwounded, and a large number of his most valuable officers were slain. it was an awful defeat and an awful slaughter. fortunately for frederic the losses of the russians had also been so terrible that they did not venture to pursue the foe. early the next morning the prussian king crossed the oder; and the russians, encumbered with the thousands of their own mutilated and dying troops, thought it not prudent to march upon berlin. the war still raged furiously, the allies being inspirited by hope and frederic by despair. at length the affairs of prussia became quite hopeless, and the prussian monarch was in a position from which no earthly energy or sagacity could extricate him. the russians and austrians, in resistless numbers, were spread over all his provinces excepting saxony, where the great frederic was entirely hemmed up. the prussian king was fully conscious of the desperation of his affairs, and, though one of the most stoical and stern of men, he experienced the acutest anguish. for hours he paced the floor of his tent, absorbed in thought, seldom exchanging a word with his generals, who stood silently by, having no word to utter of counsel or encouragement. just then god mysteriously interposed and saved prussia from dismemberment, and the name of her monarch from ignominy. the empress of russia had been for some time in failing health, and the year had but just dawned, when the enrapturing tidings were conveyed to the camp of the despairing prussians that elizabeth was dead. this event dispelled midnight gloom and caused the sun to shine brightly upon the prussian fortunes. the nephew of the empress, peter iii., who succeeded her on her throne, had long expressed his warm admiration of frederic of prussia, had visited his court at berlin, where he was received with the most flattering attentions, and had enthroned the warlike frederic in his heart as the model of a hero. he had even, during the war, secretly written letters to frederic expressive of his admiration, and had communicated to him secrets of the russian cabinet and their plans of operation. the elevation of peter iii. to the throne was the signal, not only for the withdrawal of the russian troops from the austrian alliance, but for the direct marching of those troops as allies into the camp of the prussians. thus sudden are the mutations of war; thus inexplicable are the combinations of destiny. elizabeth died in the fifty-second year of her age, after a reign of twenty years. she was during her whole reign mainly devoted to sensual pleasure, drinking intoxicating liquors immoderately, and surrendering herself to the most extraordinary licentiousness. though ever refusing to recognize the claims of marriage, she was the mother of several children, and her favorites can not easily be enumerated. her ministers managed the affairs of state for her, in obedience to her caprices. she seemed to have some chronic disease of the humane feelings which induced her to declare that not one of her subjects should during her reign be doomed to death, while at the same time, with the most gentle self complacency, she could order the tongues of thousands to be torn out by the roots, could cut off the nostrils with red hot pincers, could lop off ears, lips and noses, and could twist the arms of her victims behind them, by dislocating them at the shoulders. there were tens of thousands of prisoners thus horridly mutilated. the empress was fond of music, and introduced to russia the opera and the theater. she was as intolerent to the jews as her father had been, banishing them all from the country. she lived in constant fear of conspiracies and revolutions, and, as a desperate safeguard, established a secret inquisitorial court to punish all who should express any displeasure with the measures of government. spies and informers of the most worthless character filled the land, and multitudes of the most virtuous inhabitants of the empire, falsely accused, or denounced for a look, a shrug, or a harmless word, were consigned to mutilation more dreadful and to exile more gloomy than the grave. chapter xxiii. peter iii. and his bride. from to . lineage of peter iii.--chosen by elizabeth as her successor.--the bride chosen for peter.--her lineage.--the courtship.--the marriage.--autobiography of catharine.--anecdotes of peter.--his neglect of catharine and his debaucheries.--amusements of the russian court.--military execution of a rat.--accession of peter iii. to the throne.--supremacy of catharine.--her repudiation threatened.--the conspiracy.--its successful accomplishment. peter the third was grandson of peter the great. his mother, anne, the eldest daughter of peter and catharine, married the duke of holstein, who inherited a duchy on the eastern shores of the baltic containing some four thousand square miles of territory and about three hundred thousand inhabitants. their son and only child, peter, was born in the ducal castle at kiel, the capital of the duchy, in the year . the blood of peter the great of russia, and of charles the twelfth of sweden mingled in the veins of the young duke, of which fact he was exceedingly proud. soon after the birth of peter, his mother, anne, died. the father of peter was son of the eldest sister of charles xii., and, as such, being the nearest heir, would probably have succeeded to the throne of sweden had not the king's sudden death, by a cannon ball, prevented him from designating his successor. the widowed father of peter, thus disappointed in his hopes of obtaining the crown of sweden, which his aunt ulrica, his mother's sister, successfully grasped, lived in great retirement. the idea had not occurred to him that the crown of imperial russia could, by any chance, descend to his son, and the education of peter was conducted to qualify him to preside over his little patrimonial duchy. when young peter was fourteen years of age, the empress elizabeth, his maternal aunt, to the surprise and delight of the family, summoned the young prince to st. petersburg, intimating her intention to transmit to him her crown. but peter was a thoroughly worthless boy. all ignoble qualities seemed to be combined in his nature without any redeeming virtues. elizabeth having thus provided twenty millions of people with a sovereign, looked about to find for that sovereign a suitable wife. upon the banks of the oder there was a small _principality_, as it was called, containing some thirteen hundred square miles, about the size of the state of rhode island. christian augustus, the prince of this little domain, had a daughter, sophia, a child rather remarkable both for beauty and vivacity. she was one year younger than peter, and elizabeth fixed her choice upon sophia as the future spouse of her nephew. peter was, at this time, with the empress in moscow, and sophia was sent for to spend some time in the russian capital before the marriage, that she might become acquainted with the russian language and customs. both of these children had been educated protestants, but they were required to renounce the lutheran faith and accept that of the greek church. children as they were, they did this, of course, as readily as they would have changed their dresses. with this change of religion sophia received a new name, that of catharine, and by this name she was ever afterward called. when these children, to whom the government of the russian empire was to be intrusted, first met, peter was fifteen years of age and catharine fourteen. catharine subsequently commenced a minute journal, an autobiography of these her youthful days, which opens vividly to our view the corruptions of the russian court. nothing can be more wearisome than the life there developed. no thought whatever seemed to be directed by the court to the interests of the russian people. they were no more thought of than the jaded horses who dragged the chariots of the nobles. it is amazing that the indignation of the millions can have slumbered so long. catharine, in her memoirs, naively describes young peter, when she first saw him, as "weak, ugly, little and sickly." from the age of ten he had been addicted to intoxicating drinks. it was the th of february, , when catharine was taken to moscow. peter, or, as he was then called, the grand duke, was quite delighted to see the pretty girl who was his destined wife, and began immediately to entertain catharine, as she says, "by informing me that he was in love with one of the maids of honor to the empress, and that he would have been very glad to have married her, but that he was resigned to marry me instead, as his aunt wished it." the grand duke had the faculty of making himself excessively disagreeable to every one around him, and the affianced _haters_ were in a constant quarrel. peter could develop nothing but stupid malignity. catharine could wield the weapons of keen and cutting sarcasm, which peter felt as the mule feels the lash. catharine's mother had accompanied her to moscow, but the bridal wardrobe, for a princess, was extremely limited. "i had arrived," she writes, "in russia very badly provided for. if i had three or four dresses in the world, it was the very outside, and this at a court where people changed their dress three times a day. a dozen chemises constituted the whole of my linen, and i had to use my mother's sheets." soon after catharine's arrival, the grand duke was taken with the small-pox, and his natural ugliness was rendered still more revolting by the disfigurement it caused. on the th of february, , when catharine had been one year at moscow, the grand duke celebrated his seventeenth birthday. in her journal catharine writes that peter seldom saw her, and was always glad of any excuse by which he could avoid paying her any attention. though catharine cared as little for him, still, with girlish ambition, she was eager to marry him, as she very frankly records, in consideration of the crown which he would place upon her brow, and her womanly nature was stung by his neglect. "i fully perceived," she writes, "his want of interest, and how little i was cared for. my self-esteem and vanity grieved in silence; but i was too proud to complain. i should have thought myself degraded had any one shown me a friendship which i could have taken for pity. nevertheless i shed tears when alone, then quietly dried them up, and went to romp with my maids. "i labored, however," writes catharine, "to gain the affection of every one. great or small i neglected no one, but laid it down to myself as a rule to believe that i stood in need of every one, and so to act, in consequence, as to obtain the good will of all, and i succeeded in doing so." the st of august of this year was fixed for the nuptial day. catharine looked forward to it with extreme repugnance. peter was revolting in his aspect, disgusting in manners, a drunkard, and licentious to such a degree that he took no pains to conceal his amours. but the crown of russia was in the eyes of catharine so glittering a prize, though then she had not entered her sixteenth year, that she was willing to purchase it even at the price of marrying peter, the only price at which it could be obtained. she was fully persuaded that peter, with a feeble constitution and wallowing in debauchery, could not live long, and that, at his death, she would be undisputed empress. "as the day of our nuptials approached," she writes, "i became more and more melancholy. my heart predicted but little happiness; ambition alone sustained me. in my inmost soul there was something which led me never to doubt, for a single moment, that sooner or later i should become sovereign empress of russia in my own right." the marriage was celebrated with much pomp; but a more cold and heartless union was perhaps never solemnized. catharine very distinctly intimates that her husband, who was as low in his tastes and companionship as he was degraded in his vices, left her at the altar, to return to his more congenial harem. "my beloved spouse," she writes, "did not trouble himself in the slightest degree about me; but was constantly with his valets, playing at soldiers, exercising them in his room, or changing his uniform twenty times a day. i yawned and grew weary, having no one to speak to." again she writes, "a fortnight after our marriage he confessed to me that he was in love with mademoiselle carr, maid of honor to her imperial majesty. he said that there was no comparison between that lady and me. surely, said i to myself, it would be impossible for me not to be wretched with such a man as this were i to give way to sentiments of tenderness thus requited. i might die of jealousy without benefit to any one. i endeavored to master my feelings so as not to be jealous of the man who did not love me. i was naturally well-disposed, but i should have required a husband who had common sense, which this one had not." for amusement, the grand duke played cruelly with dogs in his room, pretending to train them, whipping them from corner to corner. when tired of this he would scrape execrably on a violin. he had many little puppet soldiers, whom, hour after hour, he would marshal on the floor in mimic war. he would dress his own servants and the maids of catharine in masks, and set them dancing, while he would dance with them, playing at the same time on the fiddle. "with rare perseverance," writes catharine, "the grand duke trained a pack of dogs, and with heavy blows of his whip, and cries like those of the huntsmen, made them fly from one end to the other of his two rooms, which were all he had. such of the dogs as became tired, or got out of rank, were severely punished, which made them howl still more. on one occasion, hearing one of these animals howl piteously and for a long time, i opened the door of my bed-room, where i was seated, and which adjoined the apartment in which this scene was enacted, and saw him holding this dog by the collar, suspended in the air, while a boy, who was in his service, a kalmuck by birth, held the animal by the tail. it was a poor little king charles spaniel, and the duke was beating him with all his might with the heavy handle of a whip. i interceded for the poor beast; but this only made him redouble his blows. unable to bear so cruel a scene, i returned to my room with tears in my eyes. in general, tears and cries, instead of moving the duke to pity, put him in a passion. pity was a feeling that was painful and even insupportable in his mind." at one time there was a little hunchback girl in the court, upon whom the duke fixed his vagrant desires, and she became his unconcealed favorite. the duke was ever in the habit of talking freely with catharine about his paramours and praising their excellent qualities. "madame vladisma said to me," writes catharine, "that every one was disgusted to see this little hunchback preferred to me. 'it can not be helped,' i said, as the tears started to my eyes. i went to bed; scarcely was i asleep, when the grand duke also came to bed. as he was tipsy and knew not what he was doing, he spoke to me for the purpose of expatiating on the eminent qualities of his favorite. to check his garrulity i pretended to be fast asleep. he spoke still louder in order to wake me; but finding that i slept, he gave me two or three rather hard blows in the side with his fist, and dropped asleep himself. i wept long and bitterly that night, as well on account of the matter itself and the blows he had given me, as on that of my general situation, which was, in all respects, as disagreeable as it was wearisome." one of the ridiculous and disgraceful amusements of the vulgar men and women collected in the court of elizabeth, was what was called masquerade balls, in which all the men were required to dress as women, and all the women as men, and yet no masks were worn. "the men," catharine writes, "wore large whaleboned petticoats, with women's gowns, and the head-dresses worn on court days, while the women appeared in the court costume of men. the men did not like these reversals of their sex, and the greater part of them were in the worst possible humor on these occasions, because they felt themselves to be hideous in such disguises. the women looked like scrubby little boys, while the more aged among them had thick short legs which were any thing but ornamental. the only woman who looked really well, and completely a man, was the empress herself. as she was very tall and somewhat powerful, male attire suited her wonderfully well. she had the handsomest leg i have ever seen with any man, and her foot was admirably proportioned. she danced to perfection, and every thing she did had a special grace, equally so whether she dressed as a man or a woman." enervating and degrading pleasure and ambitious or revengeful wars, engrossed the whole attention of the russian court during the reign of elizabeth. the welfare of the people was not even thought of. the following anecdote, illustrative of the character of peter iii., is worthy of record in the words of catharine: "one day, when i went into the apartments of his imperial highness, i beheld a great rat which he had hung, with all the paraphernalia of an execution. i asked what all this meant. he told me that this rat had committed a great crime, which, according to the laws of war, deserved capital punishment. it had climbed the ramparts of a fortress of card-board, which he had on a table in his cabinet, and had eaten two sentinels, made of pith, who were on duty in the bastions. his setter had caught the criminal, he had been tried by martial law and immediately hung; and, as i saw, was to remain three days exposed as a public example. in justification of the rat," continues catharine, "it may at least be said, that he was hung without having been questioned or heard in his own defense." it is not surprising that a woman, young, beautiful and vivacious, living in a court where corruption was all around her, where an unmarried empress was rendering herself notorious by her gallantries, stung to the quick by the utter neglect of her husband, insulted by the presence of his mistresses, and disgusted by his unmitigated boobyism, should have sought solace in the friendship of others. and it is not strange that such friendships should have ripened into love, and that one thus tempted should have fallen. catharine in her memoirs does not deny her fall, though she can not refrain from allowing an occasional word to drop from her pen, evidently intended in extenuation. much which is called virtue consists in the absence of temptation. catharine's first son, paul, was born on the th of september, . he was unquestionably the son of count sottikoff, a nobleman alike distinguished for the graces of his person and of his mind. through a thousand perils and cunning intrigues, catharine and the count prosecuted their amour. woe was, as usual, to both of them the result. the empress gives a very touching account of her sufferings, in both body and mind, on the occasion of the birth of her child. "as for me," she writes, "i did nothing but weep and moan in my bed. i neither could or would see anybody, i felt so miserable. i buried myself in my bed, where i did nothing but grieve. when the forty days of my confinement were over, the empress came a second time into my chamber. my child was brought into my room; it was the first time i had seen him since his birth." one day peter brought into his wife's room, for her amusement, a letter which he had just received from one of his mistresses, madame teploff. showing the letter to catharine, he said, "only think! she writes me a letter of four whole pages, and expects that i should read it, and, what is more, answer it also; i, who have to go to parade, then dine, then attend the rehearsal of an opera, and the ballet which the cadets will dance at. i will tell her plainly that i have not time, and, if she is vexed, i will quarrel with her till next winter." "that will certainly be the shortest way," catharine coolly replied. "these traits," she very truly adds in her narrative, "are characteristic, and they will not therefore be out of place." such was the man and such the woman who succeeded to the throne of russia upon the death of the empress elizabeth. she had hardly emitted her last breath, ere the courtiers, impatiently awaiting the event, rushed to the apartments of the grand duke to congratulate him upon his accession to the crown. he immediately mounted on horseback and traversed the streets of st. petersburg, scattering money among the crowd. the soldiers gathered around him exclaiming, "take care of us and we will take care of you," though the grand duke had been very unpopular there was no outburst of opposition. the only claim peter iii. had to the confidence of the nation was the fact that he was grandson of peter the great. conspiracies were, however, immediately set on foot to eject him from the throne and give catharine his seat. catharine had a high reputation for talent, and being very affectionate in her disposition and cordial in her manners, had troops of friends. indeed, it is not strange that public sentiment should not only have extenuated her faults, but should almost have applauded them. forgetting the commandments of god, and only remembering that her brutal husband richly merited retaliation, the public almost applauded the spirit with which she conducted her intrigues. the same sentiment pervaded england when the miserable george iv. goaded his wife to frenzy, and led her, in uncontrollable exasperation, to pay him back in his own coin. fortunately for the imbecile peter, he had enough sense to appreciate the abilities of catharine; and a sort of maudlin idea of justice, if it were not, perhaps, utter stupidity, dissuaded him from resenting her freedom in the choice of favorites. upon commencing his reign, he yielded himself to the guidance of her imperial mind, hoping to obtain some dignity by the renown which her measures might reflect upon him. catharine advised him very wisely. she caused seventeen thousand exiles to be recalled from siberia, and abolished the odious secret court of chancery--that court of political inquisition which, for years, had kept all russia trembling. for a time, russia resounded with the praises of the new sovereign, and when peter iii. entered the senate and read an act permitting the nobility to bear arms, or not, at their own discretion, and to visit foreign countries whenever they pleased, a privilege which they had not enjoyed before, the gratitude of the nobles was unbounded. it should, however, be recorded that this edict proved to be but a dead letter. it was expected that the nobles, as a matter of courtesy, should always ask permission to leave, and this request was frequently not granted. the secret tribunal, to which we have referred, exposed persons of all ranks and both sexes to be arrested upon the slightest suspicion. the accused was exposed to the most horrible tortures to compel a confession. when every bone was broken and every joint dislocated, and his body was mangled by the crushing wheel, if he still had endurance to persist in his denial, the accuser was, in his turn, placed upon the wheel, and every nerve of agony was tortured to force a recantation of the charge. though peter iii. promulgated the wise edicts which were placed in his hands, he had become so thoroughly imbruted by his dissolute life that he made no attempt to tear himself away from his mistresses and his drunken orgies. peter iii. was quite infatuated in his admiration of frederic of prussia. one of his first acts upon attaining the reins of government was to dispatch an order forbidding the russian armies any longer to coöperate with austria against prussia. this command was speedily followed by another, directing the russian generals to hold themselves and their troops obedient to the instructions of frederic, and to coöperate in every way with him to repel their former allies, the austrians. it was the caprice of a drunken semi-idiot which thus rescued frederic the great from disgrace and utter ruin. the emperor of prussia had sufficient sagacity to foresee that peter iii. would not long maintain his seat upon the throne. he accordingly directed his minister at st. petersburg, while continuing to live in great intimacy with the tzar, to pay the most deferential attention to the empress. there was no end to the caprices of peter the drunkard. at one time he would leave the whole administration of affairs in the hands of catharine, and again he would treat her in the most contemptuous and insulting manner. in one of the pompous ceremonials of the court, when the empress, adorned with all the marks of imperial dignity, shared the throne with peter, the tzar called one of his mistresses to the conspicuous seat he occupied with the empress, and made her sit down by his side. catharine immediately rose and retired. at a public festival that same evening, peter, half drunk, publicly and loudly launched at her an epithet the grossest which could be addressed to a woman. catharine was so shocked that she burst into tears. the sympathy of the spectators was deeply excited in her behalf, and their indignation roused against the tzar. while peter iii. was developing his true character of brute and buffoon, gathering around him the lowest profligates, and reveling in the most debasing and vulgar vices, catharine, though guilty and unhappy, was holding her court with dignity and affability, which charmed all who approached her. she paid profound respect to the external observances of religion, daily performing her devotions in the churches, accosting the poor with benignity, treating the clergy with marked respect, and winning all hearts by her kindness and sympathy. one of the mistresses of peter iii., the countess vorontzof, had gained such a boundless influence over her paramour, that she had extorted from him the promise that he would repudiate catharine, marry her, and crown her as empress. elated by this promise, she had the imprudence to boast of it. her father and several of the courtiers whose fortunes her favor would secure, were busy in paving her way to the throne. the numerous friends of catharine were excited, and were equally active in thwarting the plans of the tzar. peter took no pains to conceal his intentions, and gloried in proclaiming the illegitimacy of paul, the son of the empress. loathsome as his own life was, he seemed to think that his denunciations of catharine, whose purity he had insulted and whose heart he had crushed, would secure for him the moral support of his subjects and of europe. but he was mistaken. the sinning catharine was an angel of purity compared with the beastly peter. it was necessary for peter to move with caution, for catharine had ability, energy, innumerable friends, and was one of the last women in the world quietly to submit to be plunged into a dungeon, and then to be led to the scaffold, and by such a man as her despicable spouse. peter iii. was by no means a match for catharine. about twelve miles from st. petersburg, on the southern shore of the bay of cronstadt, and nearly opposite the renowned fortresses of cronstadt which command the approaches to st. petersburg, was the imperial summer palace of peterhof, which for some time had been the favorite residence of catharine. a few miles further down the bay, which runs east and west, was the palace of oranienbaum, in the decoration of which many succeeding monarchs had lavished large sums. this was peter's favorite resort, and its halls ever echoed with the carousings of the prince and his boon companions. every year, on the th of july, there is a grand festival at peterhof in honor of peter and paul, the patron saints of the imperial house. this was the time fixed upon by catharine and her friends for the accomplishment of their plans. the tzar, on the evening of the th of july, was at oranienbaum, surrounded by a bevy of the most beautiful females of his court. catharine was at peterhof. it was a warm summer's night, and the queen lodged in a small _cottage orné_ called montplaisir, which was situated in the garden. they had not intended to carry their plot into execution that night, but an alarm precipitated their action. at two o'clock in the morning catharine was awoke from a sound sleep, by some one of her friends entering her room, exclaiming, "your majesty has not a moment to lose. rise and follow me!" catharine, alarmed, called her confidential attendant, dressed hurriedly in disguise, and entered a carriage which was waiting for her at the garden gate. the horses were goaded to their utmost speed on the road to st. petersburg, and so inconsiderately that soon one of them fell in utter exhaustion. they were still at some distance from the city, and the energetic empress alighted and pressed forward on foot. soon they chanced to meet a peasant, driving a light cart. count orloff, who was a reputed lover of catharine, and was guiding in this movement, seized the horse, placed the empress in the cart, and drove on. these delays had occupied so much time that it was seven o'clock in the morning before they reached st. petersburg. the empress, with her companions, immediately proceeded to the barracks, where most of the soldiers were quartered, and whose officers had been gained over, and threw herself upon their protection. "danger," she said to the soldiers, "has compelled me to fly to you for help. the tzar had intended to put me to death, together with my son. i had no other means of escaping death than by flight. i throw myself into your arms!" such an appeal from a woman, beautiful, beloved and imploring protection from the murderous hands of one who was hated and despised, inspired every bosom with indignation and with enthusiasm in her behalf. with one impulse they took an oath to die, if necessary, in her defense; and cries of "long live the empress" filled the air. in two hours catharine found herself at the head of several thousand veteran soldiers. she was also in possession of the arsenals; and the great mass of the population of st. petersburg were clamorously advocating her cause. accompanied by a numerous and brilliant suite, the empress then repaired to the metropolitan church, where the archbishop and a great number of ecclesiastics, whose coöperation had been secured, received her, and the venerable archbishop, a man of imposing character and appearance, dressed in his sacerdotal robes, led her to the altar, and placing the imperial crown upon her head, proclaimed her sovereign of all the russias, with the title of catharine the second. a _te deum_ was then chanted, and the shouts of the multitude proclaimed the cordiality with which the populace accepted the revolution. the empress then repaired to the imperial palace, which was thrown open to all the people, and which, for hours, was thronged with the masses, who fell upon their knees before her, taking their oath of allegiance. the friends of catharine were, in the meantime, everywhere busy in putting the city in a state of defense, and in posting cannon to sweep the streets should peter attempt resistance. the tzar seemed to be left without a friend. no one even took the trouble to inform him of what was transpiring. troops in the vicinity were marched into the city, and before the end of the day, catharine found herself at the head of fifteen thousand men; the most formidable defenses were arranged, strict order prevailed, and not a drop of blood had been shed. the manifesto of the empress, which had been secretly printed, was distributed throughout the city, and a day appointed when the foreign embassadors would be received by catharine. the revolution seemed already accomplished without a struggle and almost without an effort. chapter xxiv. the conspiracy; and accession of catharine ii. from to . peter iii. at oranienbaum.--catharine at peterhof.--the successful accomplishment of the conspiracy.--terror of peter.--his vacillating and feeble character.--flight to cronstadt.--repulse.--heroic counsel of munich.--peter's return to oranienbaum.--his suppliant letters to catharine.--his arrest.--imprisonment.--assasination.--proclamation of the empress. her complicity in the crime.--energy of catharine's administration.--her expansive views and sagacious policy.--contemplated marriage with count orlof. it was the morning of the th of july, . peter, at oranienbaum, had passed most of the night, with his boon companions and his concubines, in intemperate carousings. he awoke at a late hour in the morning, and after breakfast set out in a carriage, with several of his women, accompanied by a troop of courtiers in other carriages, for peterhof. the gay party were riding at a rapid rate over the beautiful shore road, looking out upon the bay of cronstadt, when they were met by a messenger from peterhof, sent to inform them that the empress had suddenly disappeared during the night. peter, upon receiving this surprising intelligence, turned pale as ashes, and alighting, conversed for some time anxiously with the messenger. entering his carriage again, he drove with the utmost speed to peterhof, and with characteristic silliness began to search the cupboards, closets, and under the bed for the empress. those of greater penetration foresaw what had happened, but were silent, that they might not add to his alarm. in the meantime some peasants, who had come from st. petersburg, related to a group of servants rumors they had heard of the insurrection in that city. a fearful gloom oppressed all, and peter was in such a state of terror that he feared to ask any questions. as they were standing thus mute with confusion and dismay, a countryman rode up, and making a profound bow to the tzar, presented him with a note. peter ran his eyes hastily over it, and then read it aloud. it communicated the appalling intelligence which we have just recorded. the consternation into which the whole imperial party was thrown no language can describe. the women were in tears. the courtiers could offer not a word of encouragement or counsel. one, the king's chancellor, with the tzar's consent, set off for st. petersburg to attempt to rouse the partisans of the tzar; but he could find none there. the wretched peter was now continually receiving corroborative intelligence of the insurrection, and he strode up and down the walks of the garden, forming innumerable plans and adhering to none. the tzar had a guard of three thousand troops at his palace of oranienbaum. at noon these approached peterhof led by their veteran commander, munich. this energetic officer urged an immediate march upon st. petersburg. "believe me," said munich, "you have many friends in the city. the royal guard will rally around your standard when they see it approaching; and if we are forced to fight, the rebels will make but a short resistance." while he was urging this energetic measure, and the women and the courtiers were trying to dissuade him from the step, and were entreating him to go back to oranienbaum, news arrived that the troops of the empress, twenty thousand in number, were on the march to arrest him. "well," said munich to the tzar, "if you wish to decline a battle, it is not wise at any rate to remain here, where you have no means of defense. neither oranienbaum nor peterhof can withstand a siege. but cronstadt offers you a safe retreat. cronstadt is still under your command. you have there a formidable fleet and a numerous garrison. from cronstadt you will find it easy to bring petersburg back to duty." the fortresses of cronstadt are situated on an island of the same name, at the mouth of a bay which presents the only approach to st. petersburg. this fortress, distant about thirty miles west of st. petersburg, may be said to be impregnable. in the late war with russia it bade defiance to the combined fleets of france and england. as we have before mentioned, peterhof and oranienbaum were pleasure-palaces, situated on the eastern shore of the bay of cronstadt, but a few miles from the fortress and but a few miles from each other. the gardens of these palaces extend to the waters of the bay, where there are ever riding at anchor a fleet of pleasure-boats and royal yachts. the advice of munich was instantly adopted. a boat was sent off conveying an officer to take command of the fortress, while, in the meantime, two yachts were got ready for the departure of the tzar and his party. peter and his affrighted court hastened on board, continually looking over their shoulders fearing to catch a sight of the troops of the queen, whose appearance they every moment apprehended. but the energetic catharine had anticipated this movement, and her emissaries had already gained the soldiers of the garrison, and were in possession of cronstadt. as the two yachts, which conveyed peter and his party, entered the harbor, they found the garrison, under arms, lining the coast. the cannons were leveled, the matches lighted, and the moment the foremost yacht, which contained the emperor, cast anchor, a sentinel cried out, "who comes there?" "the emperor," was the answer from the yacht. "there is no emperor," the sentinel replied. peter iii. started forward upon the deck, and, throwing back his cloak, exhibited the badges of his order, exclaiming, "what! do you not know me?" "no!" cried a thousand voices; "we know of no emperor. long live the empress catharine ii." they then threatened immediately to sink the yacht unless the tzar retired. the heroic munich urged the tzar to an act of courage of which he was totally incapable. "let us leap on shore," said he; "none will dare to fire on you, and cronstadt will still be your majesty's." but peter, in dismay, fled into the cabin, hid himself among his women, and ordered the cable instantly to be cut, and the yacht to be pulled out to sea by the oars. they were soon beyond the reach of the guns. it was now night, serene and beautiful; the sea was smooth as glass, and the stars shone with unusual splendor in the clear sky. the poltroon monarch of all the russias had not yet ventured upon deck, but was trembling in his cabin, surrounded by his dismayed mistresses, when the helmsman entered the cabin and said to the tzar, "sire, to what port is it your majesty's pleasure that i should take the vessel?" peter gazed, for a moment, in consternation and bewilderment, and then sent for munich. "field marshal," said he, "i perceive that i was too late in following your advice. you see to what extremities i am reduced. tell me, i beseech you, what i ought to do." about two hundred miles from where they were, directly down the gulf of finland, was the city of revel, one of the naval depots of russia. a large squadron of ships of war was riding at anchor there. munich, as prompt in council as he was energetic in action, replied, "proceed immediately to join the squadron at revel. there take a ship, and go on to pomerania.[ ] put yourself at the head of your army, return to russia, and i promise you that in six weeks petersburg and all the rest of the empire will be in subjection to you." [footnote : pomerania was one of the duchies of prussia, where the russian army, in coöperation with the king of prussia, was assembled. frederic might, perhaps, have sent his troops to aid peter in the recovery of his crown.] the women and the courtiers, with characteristic timidity, remonstrated against a measure so decisive, and, believing that the empress would not be very implacable, entreated the tzar to negotiate rather than fight. peter yielded to their senseless solicitations, and ordered them to make immediately for oranienbaum. they reached the dock at four o'clock in the morning. peter hastened to his apartment, and wrote a letter to the empress, which he dispatched by a courier. in this letter he made a humble confession of his faults, and promised to share the sovereign authority with catharine if she would consent to reconciliation. the empress was, at this time, at the head of her army within about twenty miles of oranienbaum. during the night, she had slept for a few hours upon some cloaks which the officers of her suite had spread for her bed. catharine, knowing well that perjury was one of the most trivial of the faults of the tzar, made no reply, but pressed forward with her troops. peter, soon receiving information of the advance of the army, ordered one of his fleetest horses to be saddled, and dressed himself in disguise, intending thus to effect his escape to the frontiers of poland. but, with his constitutional irresolution, he soon abandoned this plan, and, ordering the fortress of oranienbaum to be dismantled, to convince catharine that he intended to make no resistance, he wrote to the empress another letter still more humble and sycophantic than the first. he implored her forgiveness in terms of the most abject humiliation. he assured her that he was ready to resign to her unconditionally the crown of russia, and that he only asked permission to retire to his native duchy of holstein, and that the empress would graciously grant him a pension for his support. catharine read the letter, but deigning no reply, sent back the chamberlain who brought it, with a verbal message to her husband that she could enter into no negotiations with him, and could only accept his unconditional submission. the chamberlain, ismailof, returned to oranienbaum. the tzar had with him there only his holstein guard consisting of six hundred men. ismailof urged the tzar, as the only measure of safety which now remained, to abandon his troops, who could render him no defense, and repair to the empress, throwing himself upon her mercy. for a short time the impotent mind of the degraded prince was in great turmoil. but as was to be expected, he surrendered himself to the humiliation. entering his carriage, he rode towards peterhof to meet the empress. soon he encountered the battalions on the march for his capture. silently they opened their ranks and allowed him to enter, and then, closing around him, they stunned him with shouts of, "long live catharine." the miserable man had the effrontery to take with him, in his carriage, one of his mistresses. as she alighted at the palace of peterhof, some of the soldiers tore the ribbons from her dress. the tzar was led up the grand stair-case, stripped of the insignia of imperial power, and was shut up, and carefully guarded in one of the chambers of the palace. count panin then visited him, by order of the empress, and demanded of him the abdication of the crown, informing him that having thus abdicated, he would be sent back to his native duchy and would enjoy the dignity of duke of holstein for the remainder of his days. peter was now as pliant as wax. aided by the count, he wrote and signed the following declaration: "during the short space of my absolute reign over the empire of russia, i became sensible that i was not able to support so great a burden, and that my abilities were not equal to the task of governing so great an empire, either as a sovereign or in any other capacity whatever. i also foresaw the great troubles which must thence have arisen, and have been followed with the total ruin of the empire, and my own eternal disgrace. after having therefore seriously reflected thereon, i declare, without constraint, and in the most solemn manner, to the russian empire and to the whole universe, that i for ever renounce the government of the said empire, never desiring hereafter to reign therein, either as an absolute sovereign, or under any other form of government; never wishing to aspire thereto, or to use any means, of any sort, for that purpose. as a pledge of which i swear sincerely before god and all the world to this present renunciation, written and signed this th day of june, o.s. ."[ ] [footnote : by the gregorian calendar or new style, adopted by pope gregory xiii. in , ten days were dropped after the th of october, and the th was reckoned as the th. thus the th of june, o.s. would be july , n.s.] peter iii., having placed this abdication in the hands of count panin, seemed quite serene, fancying himself safe, at least from bodily harm. in the evening, however, an officer, with a strong escort, came and conveyed him a prisoner to ropscha, a small imperial palace about fifteen miles from peterhof. peter, after his disgraceful reign of six months, was now imprisoned in a palace; and his wife, whom he had intended to repudiate and probably to behead, was now sovereign empress of russia. in the evening, the thunderings of the cannon upon the ramparts of st. petersburg announced the victory of catharine. she however slept that night at peterhof, and in the morning received the homage of the nobility, who from all quarters flocked around her to give in their adhesion to her reign. field marshal munich, who with true fealty had stood by peter iii. to the last, urging him to unfurl the banner of the tzar and fight heroically for his crown, appeared with the rest. the noble old man with an unblushing brow entered the presence of catharine. as soon as she perceived him she called aloud, "field marshal, it was you, then, who wanted to fight me?" "yes, madam," munich answered, in a manly tone; "could i do less for the prince who delivered me from captivity? but it is henceforth my duty to fight for you, and you will find in me a fidelity equal to that with which i had devoted my services to him."[ ] [footnote : marshal munich was eighty-two years of age. elizabeth had sent him to siberian exile. peter liberated him. upon his return to moscow, after twenty years of exile, he found one son living, and twenty-two grandchildren and great grandchildren whom he had never seen. when the heroic old man presented himself before the tzar dressed in the sheep-skin coat he had worn in siberia, peter said, "i hope, notwithstanding your age, you may still serve me." munich replied, "since your majesty has brought me from darkness to light, and called me from the depths of a cavern, to admit me to the foot of the throne, you will find me ever ready to expose my life in your service. neither a tedious exile nor the severity of a siberian climate have been able to extinguish, or even to damp, the ardor i have formerly shown for the interests of russia and the glory of its monarch."] in the afternoon, the empress returned to st. petersburg. she entered the city on horseback, accompanied by a brilliant retinue of nobles, and followed by her large army of fifteen thousand troops. all the soldiers wore garlands of oak leaves. the immense crowds in the city formed lines for the passage of the empress, scattered flowers in her path, and greeted her with constant bursts of acclaim. all the streets through which she passed were garlanded and spanned with triumphal arches, the bells rang their merriest peals, and military salutes bellowed from all the ramparts. as the high ecclesiastics crowded to meet her, they kissed her hand, while she, in accordance with russian courtesy, kissed their cheeks. catharine summoned the senate, and presided over its deliberations with wonderful dignity and grace. the foreign ministers, confident in the stability of her reign, hastened to present their congratulations. peter found even a few hours in the solitude of the palace of ropscha exceedingly oppressive; he accordingly sent to the empress, soliciting the presence of a negro servant to whom he was much attached, and asking also for his dog, his violin, a bible and a few novels. "i am disgusted," he wrote, "with the wickedness of mankind, and am resolved henceforth to devote myself to a philosophical life." after peter had been six days at ropscha, one morning two nobles, who had been most active in the revolution which had dethroned the tzar, entered his apartment, and, after conversing for a time, brandy was brought in. the cup of which the tzar drank was poisoned! he was soon seized with violent colic pains. the assassins then threw him upon the floor, tied a napkin around his neck, and strangled him. count orlof, the most intimate friend of the empress, and who was reputed to be her paramour, was one of these murderers. he immediately mounted his horse, and rode to st. petersburg to inform the empress that peter was dead. whether catharine was a party to this assassination, or whether it was perpetrated entirely without her knowledge, is a question which now can probably never be decided. it is very certain that the grief she manifested was all feigned, and that the assassins were rewarded for their devotion to her interests. she shut herself up for a few days, assuming the aspect of a mourner, and issued to her subjects a declaration announcing the death of the late tzar. when one enters upon the declivity of crime, the descent is ever rapid. the innocent girl, who, but a few years before, had entered the russian court from her secluded ancestral castle a spotless child of fifteen, was now most deeply involved in intrigues and sins. it is probable, indeed, that she had not intended the death of her husband, but had designed sending him to holstein and providing for him abundantly, for the rest of his days, with dogs and wine, and leaving him to his own indulgences. it is certain, however, that the empress did not punish, or even dismiss from her favor, the murderers of peter. she announced to the nation his death in the following terms: "_by the grace of god, catharine ii., empress of all the russias, to our loving subjects, greeting:_ "the seventh day after our accession to the throne of all the russias, we received information that the late emperor, peter iii., was attacked with a most violent colic. that we might not be wanting in christian duty, or disobedient to the divine command by which we are enjoined to preserve the life of our neighbor, we immediately ordered that the said peter should be furnished with every thing that might be judged necessary to restore his health by the aids of medicine. but, to our great regret and affliction, we were yesterday evening apprised that, by the permission of the almighty, the late emperor departed this life. we have therefore ordered his body to be conveyed to the monastery of nefsky, in order to its interment in that place. at the same time, with our imperial and maternal voice, we exhort our faithful subjects to forgive and forget what is past, to pay the last duties to his body, and to pray to god sincerely for the repose of his soul, wishing them, however, to consider this unexpected and sudden death as an especial effect of the providence of god, whose impenetrable decrees are working for us, for our throne, and for our country things known only to his holy will. "done at st. petersburg, july th (n.s., july th), ." the news of the revolution soon spread throughout russia, and the nobles generally acquiesced in it without a murmur. the masses of the people no more thought of expressing or having an opinion than did the sheep. one of the first acts of the empress was to send an embassy to frederic of prussia, announcing, "that she was resolved to observe inviolably the peace recently concluded with prussia; but that nevertheless she had decided to bring back to russia all her troops in silesia, prussia and pomerania." all the sovereigns of europe acknowledged the title of catharine ii., and some sent especial congratulations on her accession to the throne. maria theresa, of austria, was at first quite delighted, hoping that catharine would again unite the russian troops with hers in hostility to her great rival, frederic. but in this expectation she was doomed to bitter disappointment. the king of prussia, in a confidential note to count finkenstein, wrote of catharine and the new reign as follows: "the emperor of russia has been dethroned by his consort. it was to be expected. that princess has much good sense, and the same friendly relations towards us as the deceased. she has no religion, but acts the devotee. the chancellor bestuchef is her greatest favorite, and, as he has a strong propensity to _guinées_ i flatter myself that i shall be able to retain the friendship of the court. the poor emperor wanted to imitate peter i., but he had not the capacity for it." the empress, taking with her her son paul, and a very brilliant and numerous suite of nobles, repaired to moscow, where she was crowned with unusual splendor. by marked attention to the soldiers, providing most liberally for their comfort, she soon secured the enthusiastic attachment of the army. by the most scrupulous observance of all the external rites of religion, she won the confidence of the clergy. in every movement catharine exhibited wonderful sagacity and energy. it was not to be supposed that the partisans of peter iii. would be ejected from their places to give room for others, without making desperate efforts to regain what they had lost. a very formidable conspiracy was soon organized, and the friends of catharine were thrown into the greatest state of alarm. but her courage did not, for one moment, forsake her. "why are you alarmed?" said she. "think you that i fear to face this danger; or rather do you apprehend that i know not how to overcome it? recollect that you have seen me, in moments far more terrible than these, in full possession of all the vigor of my mind; and that i can support the most cruel reverses of fortune with as much serenity as i have supported her favors. think you that a few mutinous soldiers are to deprive me of a crown that i accepted with reluctance, and only as the means of delivering the russian nation from their miseries? they cause me no alarm. that providence which has called me to reign, will preserve me for the glory and the happiness of the empire. that almighty arm which has hitherto been my defense will now confound my foes!" the revolt was speedily quelled. the celebrity of her administration soon resounded from one end of europe to the other. she presided over the senate; assisted at all the deliberations of the council; read the dispatches of the embassadors; wrote, with her own hand, or dictated the answers, and watched carefully to see that all her orders were faithfully executed. she studied the lives of the most distinguished men, and was emulous of the renown of those who had been friends and benefactors of the human race. there has seldom been a sovereign on any throne more assiduously devoted to the cares of empire than was catharine ii. in one of her first manifestoes, issued the th of august of this year, she uttered the words, which her conduct proved to be essentially true, "not only all that we have or may have, but also our life itself, we have devoted to our dear country. we value nothing on our own account. we serve not ourself. but we labor with all pains, with all diligence and care for the glory and happiness of our people." catharine found corruption and bribery everywhere, and she engaged in the work of reform with the energies of hercules in cleansing the augean stables. she abolished, indignantly the custom, which had existed for ages, of attempting to extort confession of crime by torture. it is one of the marvels of human depravity that intelligent minds could have been so imbruted as to tolerate, for a day, so fiend-like a wrong. the whole system of inquisitorial investigations, in both church and state, was utterly abrogated. foreigners were invited to settle in the empire. the lands were carefully explored, that the best districts might be pointed out for tillage, for forest and for pasture. the following proclamation, inviting foreigners to settle in russia, shows the liberality and the comprehensive views which animated the empress: "any one who is destitute shall receive money for the expenses of his journey, and shall be forwarded to these free lands at the expense of the crown. on his arrival he shall receive a competent assistance, and even an advance of capital, free of interest, for ten years. the stranger is exempted from all service, either military or civil, and from all taxes for a certain time. in these new tracts of land the colonists may live according to their own good-will, under their own jurisdiction for thirty years. all religions are tolerated." thus encouraged, thousands flocked from germany to the fresh and fertile acres on the banks of the volga and the samara. the emigration became so great that several of the petty german princes issued prohibitions. in the rush of adventurers, of the indolent, the improvident and the vicious, great suffering ensued. desert wilds were, however, peopled, and the children of the emigrants succeeded to homes of comparative comfort. settlers crowded to these lands even from france, poland and sweden. ten thousand families emigrated to the district of saratof alone. "the world," said catharine one day to the french minister, "will not be able properly to judge of my administration till after five years. it will require at least so much time to reduce the empire to order. in the mean time i shall behave, with all the princes of europe, like a finished coquette. i have the finest army in the world. i have a greater taste for war than for peace; but, i am restrained from war by humanity, justice and reason. i shall not allow myself, like elizabeth, to be pressed into a war. i shall enter upon it when it will prove advantageous to me, but never from complaisance to others." a large number of the nobles, led by the chancellor of the empire, now presented a petition to catharine, urging her again to marry. after a glowing eulogium on all the empress had done for the renown and prosperity of russia, they reminded her of the feeble constitution of her son paul, of the terrible calamity a disputed succession might impose upon russia, and entreated her to give an additional proof of her devotion to the good of her subjects, by sacrificing her own liberty to their welfare, in taking a spouse. this advice was quite in harmony with the inclinations of the empress. count orlof, one of the most conspicuous nobles of the court, and the prime actor in the conspiracy which had overthrown and assassinated peter iii., was the recognized favorite of catharine. but count orlof had assumed such haughty airs, regarding catharine as indebted to him for her crown, that he had rendered himself extremely unpopular; and so much discontent was manifested in view of his elevation to the throne, that catharine did not dare to proceed with the measure. it is generally supposed, however, that there was a sort of private marriage instituted, of no real validity, between catharine and orlof, by which the count became virtually the husband of the empress. catharine was now firmly established on the throne. the beneficial effects of her administration were daily becoming more apparent in all parts of russia. nothing which could be promotive of the prosperity of the empire escaped her observation. with questions of commerce, finance and politics she seemed equally familiar. on the th of august, , she issued an imperial edict written by her own hand, in which it is said, "on the whole surface of the earth there is no country better adapted for commerce than our empire. russia has spacious harbors in europe, and, overland, the way is open through poland to every region. siberia extends, on one side, over all asia, and india is not very remote from orenburg. on the other side, russia seems to touch on america. across the euxine is a passage, though as yet unexplored, to egypt and africa, and bountiful providence has blessed the extensive provinces of our empire with such gifts of nature as can rarely be found in all the four quarters of the world." chapter xxv. reign of catharine ii. from to . energy of catharine's administration.--titles of honor decreed to her.--code of laws instituted.--the assassination of the empress attempted.--encouragement of learned men.--catharine inoculated for the small-pox.--new war with turkey.--capture of crimea.--sailing of the russian fleet.--great naval victory.--visit of the prussian prince henry.--the sleigh ride.--plans for the partition of poland.--the hermitage.--marriage of the grand duke paul.--correspondence with voltaire and diderot. the friends and the foes of catharine are alike lavish in their encomiums upon her attempts to elevate russia in prosperity and in national greatness. under her guidance an assembly was convened to frame a code of laws, based on justice, and which should be supreme throughout all russia. the assembly prosecuted its work with great energy, and, ere its dissolution, passed a resolution decreeing to the empress the titles of "great, wise, prudent, and mother of the country." to this decree catharine modestly replied, "if i have rendered myself worthy of the first title, it belongs to posterity to confer it upon me. wisdom and prudence are the gifts of heaven, for which i daily give thanks, without presuming to derive any merit from them myself. the title of _mother of the country_ is, in my eyes, the most dear of all,--the only one i can accept, and which i regard as the most benign and glorious recompense for my labors and solicitudes in behalf of a people whom i love." the code of laws thus framed is a noble monument to the genius and humanity of catharine ii. the principles of enlightened philanthropy pervades the code, which recognizes the immutable principles of right, and which seems designed to undermine the very foundations of despotism. in the instructions which catharine drew up for the guidance of the assembly, she wrote, "laws should be framed with the sole object of conducting mankind to the greatest happiness. it is our duty to mitigate the lot of those who live in a state of dependence. the liberty and security of the citizens ought to be the grand and precious object of all laws; they should all tend to render life, honor and property as stable and secure as the constitution of the government itself. it is incomparably better to prevent crimes than to punish them. the use of torture is contrary to sound reason. humanity cries out against this practice, and insists on its being abolished." the condition of the peasantry, heavily taxed by the nobles, excited her deepest commiseration. she wished their entire enfranchisement, but was fully conscious that she was not strong enough to undertake so sweeping a measure of reform. she insisted, however, "that laws should be prescribed to the nobility, obliging them to act more circumspectly in the manner of levying their dues, and to protect the peasant, so that his condition might be improved and that he might be enabled to acquire property." a ruffian attempted to assassinate catharine. he was arrested in the palace, with a long dagger concealed in his dress, and without hesitation confessed his design. catharine had the assassin brought into her presence, conversed mildly with him, and seeing that there was no hope of disarming his fanaticism, banished him to siberia. but the innocent daughter of the guilty man she took under her protection, and subsequently appointed her one of her maids of honor. in the year , she sent a delegation of scientific men on a geological survey into the interior of the empire, with directions to determine the geographical position of the principal places, to mark their temperature, their productions, their wealth, and the manners and characters of the several people by whom they were inhabited. russia was then, as now, a world by itself, peopled by innumerable tribes or nations, with a great diversity of climates, and with an infinite variety of manners and customs. a large portion of the country was immersed in the profoundest barbarism, almost inaccessible to the traveler. in other portions vagrant hordes wandered without any fixed habitations. here was seen the castle of the noble with all its imposing architecture, and its enginery of offense and defense. the mud hovels of the peasants were clustered around the massive pile; and they passed their lives in the most degrading bondage. from all parts of europe the most learned men were invited to the court of catharine. the renowned mathematician, euler, was lured from berlin to st. petersburg. the empress settled upon him a large annual stipend, and made him a present of a house. catharine was fully conscious that the glory of a country consists, not in its military achievements, but in advancement in science and in the useful and elegant arts. the annual sum of five thousand dollars was assigned to encourage the translation of foreign literary works into the russian language. the small-pox was making fearful ravages in russia. the empress had heard of inoculation. she sent to england for a physician, dr. thomas dimsdale, who had practiced inoculation for the small-pox with great success in london. immediately upon his arrival the empress sent for him, and with skill which astonished the physician, questioned him respecting his mode of practice. he was invited to dine with the empress; and the doctor thus describes the dinner party: "the empress sat singly at the upper end of a long table, at which about twelve of the nobility were guests. the entertainment consisted of a variety of excellent dishes, served up after the french manner, and was concluded by a dessert of the finest fruits and sweetmeats, such as i little expected to find in that northern climate. most of these luxuries were, however, the produce of the empress's own dominions. pineapples, indeed, are chiefly imported from england, though those of the growth of russia, of which we had one that day, are of good flavor but generally small. water-melons and grapes are brought from astrachan; great plenty of melons from moscow; and apples and pears from the ukraine. "but what most enlivened the whole entertainment, was the unaffected ease and affability of the empress herself. each of her guests had a share of her attention and politeness. the conversation was kept up with freedom and cheerfulness to be expected rather from persons of the same rank, than from subjects admitted to the honor of their sovereign's company." the empress after conversing with dr. dimsdale, decided to introduce the practice of small-pox inoculation[ ] into russia, and heroically resolved that the experiment should first be tried upon herself. dr. dimsdale, oppressed by the immense responsibility thus thrown upon him, for though the disease, thus introduced, was generally mild, in not a few cases it proved fatal, requested the assistance of the court physicians. [footnote : vaccination, or inoculation with the cow-pox, was not introduced to europe until many years after this. the celebrated treatise of jenner, entitled _an inquiry into the causes and effects of variolæ vaccinæ_, was published in .] "it is not necessary," the empress replied; "you come well recommended. the conversation i have had increases my confidence in you. it is impossible that my physicians should have much skill in this operation. my life is my own, and with the utmost cheerfulness i entrust myself to your care. i wish to be inoculated as soon as you judge it convenient, and desire to have it kept a secret." the anxious physician begged that the experiment might first be tried by inoculating some of her own sex and age, and, as near as possible, of her own constitutional habits. the empress replied, "the practice is not novel, and no doubt remains of its general success. it is, therefore, not necessary that there should be any delay on that account." catharine was inoculated on the th of october, , and went immediately to a secluded private palace at some distance from the city, under the pretense that she wished to superintend some repairs. she took with her only the necessary attendants. soon, however, several of the nobility, some of whom she suspected had not had the small-pox, followed. as a week was to elapse after the operation before the disease would begin to manifest itself, the empress said to dr. dimsdale, "i must rely on you to give me notice when it is possible for me to communicate the disease. though i could wish to keep my inoculation a secret, yet far be it from me to conceal it a moment when it may become hazardous to others." in the mean time she took part in every amusement with her wonted affability and without the slightest indication of alarm. she dined with the rest of the company, and enlivened the whole court with those conversational charms for which she was distinguished. the disease proved light, and she was carried through it very successfully. soon after, she wrote to voltaire, "i have not kept my bed a single instant, and i have received company every day. i am about to have my only son inoculated. count orlof, that hero who resembles the ancient romans in the best times of the republic, both in courage and generosity, doubting whether he had ever had the small-pox, has put himself under the hands of our englishman, and, the next day after the operation, went to the hunt in a very deep fall of snow. a great number of courtiers have followed his example, and many others are preparing to do so. besides this, inoculation is now carried on at petersburg in three seminaries of education, and in an hospital established under the protection of dr. dimsdale." the empress testified her gratitude for the benefits dr. dimsdale had conferred upon russia by making him a present of fifty thousand dollars, and settling upon him a pension of one thousand dollars a year. on the d of december, , a thanksgiving service was performed in the chapel of the palace, in gratitude for the recovery of her majesty and her son paul from the small-pox. the turks began now to manifest great apprehensions in view of the rapid growth of the russian empire. poland was so entirely overshadowed that its monarchs were elected and its government administered under the influence of a russian army. in truth, poland had become but little more than one of the provinces of catharine's empire. the grand seignior formed an alliance with the disaffected poles, arrested the russian embassador at constantinople, and mustered his hosts for war. catharine ii. was prepared for the emergency. early in the russian army commenced its march towards the banks of the cuban, in the wilds of circassia. the tartars of the crimea were the first foes whom the armies of catharine encountered. the sea of azof, with its surrounding shores, soon fell into the possession of russia. one of the generals of catharine, general drevitch, a man whose name deserves to be held up to eternal infamy, took nine polish gentlemen as captives, and, cutting off their hands at the wrist, sent them home, thus mutilated, to strike terror into the poles. already frederic of prussia and catharine were secretly conferring upon a united attack upon poland and the division of the territory between them. frederic sent his brother henry to st. petersburg to confer with catharine upon this contemplated robbery, sufficiently gigantic in character to be worthy of the energies of the royal bandits. catharine received henry with splendor which the world has seldom seen equaled. one of the entertainments with which she honored him was a moonlight sleigh ride arranged upon a scale of imperial grandeur. the sleigh which conveyed catharine and the prussian prince was an immense parlor drawn by sixteen horses, covered and inclosed by double glasses, which, with numberless mirrors, reflected all objects within and without. this sledge was followed by a retinue of two thousand others. every person, in all the sledges, was dressed in fancy costume, and masked. when two miles from the city, the train passed beneath a triumphal arch illuminated with all conceivable splendor. at the distance of every mile, some grand structure appeared in a blaze of light, a pyramid, or a temple, or colonnades, or the most brilliant displays of fireworks. opposite each of these structures ball rooms had been reared, which were crowded with the rustic peasantry, amusing themselves with music, dancing and all the games of the country. each of the spacious houses of entertainment personated some particular russian nation, where the dress, music and amusements of that nation were represented. all sorts of gymnastic feats were also exhibited, such as vaulting, tumbling and feats upon the slack and tight rope. through such scenes the imperial pleasure party rode, until a high mountain appeared through an avenue cut in the forest, representing mount vesuvius during an eruption. vast billows of flame were rolling to the skies, and the whole region was illumined with a blaze of light. the spectators had hardly recovered from the astonishment which this display caused, when the train suddenly entered a chinese village, which proved to be but the portal to the imperial palace of tzarkoselo. the palace was lighted with an infinite number of wax candles. for two hours the guests amused themselves with dancing. suddenly there was a grand discharge of cannon. the candles were immediately extinguished, and a magnificent display of fireworks, extending along the whole breadth of the palace, converted night into day. again there was a thundering discharge of artillery, when, as by enchantment, the candles blazed anew, and a sumptuous supper was served up. after the entertainment, dancing was renewed, and was continued until morning. the empress had a private palace at st. petersburg which she called her hermitage, where she received none but her choicest friends. this sumptuous edifice merits some minuteness of description. it consisted of a suite of apartments containing every thing which the most voluptuous and exquisite taste could combine. the spacious building was connected with the imperial palace by a covered arch. it would require a volume to describe the treasures of art and industry with which it abounded. here the empress had her private library and her private picture gallery. raphael's celebrated gallery in the vatican at rome was exactly repeated here with the most accurate copies of all the paintings, corner pieces and other ornaments of the same size and in the same situations. medals, engravings, curious pieces of art, models of mechanical inventions and collections of specimens of minerals and of objects of natural history crowded the cabinets. chambers were arranged for all species of amusements. a pleasure garden was constructed upon arches, with furnaces beneath them in winter, that the plants might ever enjoy genial heat. this garden was covered with fine brass wire, that the birds from all countries, singing among the trees and shrubs, or hopping along the grass plots and gravel walks, and which the empress was accustomed to feed with her own hand, might not escape. while the storms of a russian winter were howling without, the empress here could tread upon verdant lawns and gravel walks beneath luxuriant vegetation, listening to bird songs and partaking of fruits and flowers of every kind. in this artificial eden the empress often received henry, the prussian prince, and matured her plan for the partition of poland. the festivities which dazzled the eyes of the frivolous courtiers were hardly thought of by catharine and henry. mr. richardson, an english gentleman who was in the family of lord cathcart, then the british embassador at the russian court, had sufficient sagacity to detect that, beneath this display of amusements, political intrigues of great moment were being woven. he wrote from st. petersburg, on the st of january, , as follows: "this city, since the beginning of winter, has exhibited a continued scene of festivities; feasts, balls, concerts, plays, and masquerades in continued succession; and all in honor of, and to divert his royal highness, prince henry of prussia, the famous brother of the present king. yet his royal highness does not seem to be much diverted. he looks at them as an old cat looks at the gambols of a young kitten; or as one who has higher sport going on in his mind than the pastime of fiddling and dancing. he came here on pretense of a friendly visit to the empress; to have the happiness of waiting on so magnanimous a princess, and to see, with his own eyes, the progress of those immense improvements, so highly celebrated by voltaire and those french writers who receive gifts from her majesty. "but do you seriously imagine that this creature of skin and bone should travel through sweden, finland and poland, all for the pleasure of seeing the metropolis and the empress of russia? other princes may pursue such pastime; but the princes of the house of brandenburg fly at a nobler quarry. or is the king of prussia, as a tame spectator, to reap no advantage from the troubles in poland and the turkish war? what is the meaning of his late conferences with the emperor of germany? depend upon it these planetary conjunctions are the forerunners of great events. a few months may unfold the secret. you will recollect the signs when, after this, you shall hear of changes, usurpations and revolutions." in one of these interviews, in which the dismemberment of poland was resolved on, catharine said, "i will frighten turkey and flatter england. do you take it upon yourself to buy over austria, and amuse france." though the arrangements for the partition were at this time all made, the portion which was to be assigned to austria agreed upon, and the extent of territory which each was to appropriate to itself settled, the formal treaty was not signed till two years afterwards. the war still continued to rage on the frontiers of turkey. after ten months of almost incessant slaughter, the turkish army was nearly destroyed. the empress collected two squadrons of russian men-of-war at archangel on the white sea, and at revel on the baltic, and sent them through the straits of gibraltar into the mediterranean. all europe was astonished at this wonderful apparition suddenly presenting itself amidst the islands of the archipelago. the inhabitants of the greek islands were encouraged to rise, and they drove out their mussulman oppressors with great slaughter. catharine was alike victorious on the land and on the sea; and she began very seriously to contemplate driving the turks out of europe and taking possession of constantinople. her land troops speedily overran the immense provinces of bessarabia, moldavia and wallachia, and annexed them to the russian empire. the turkish fleet encountered the russians in the narrow channel which separates the island of scio from natolia. in one of the fiercest naval battles on record, and which raged for five hours, the turkish fleet was entirely destroyed. a courier was instantly dispatched to st. petersburg with the exultant tidings. the rejoicings in st. petersburg, over this naval victory, were unbounded. the empress was so elated that she resolved to liberate both greece and egypt from the sway of the turks. the turks were in a terrible panic, and resorted to the most desperate measures to defend the dardanelles, that the russian fleet might not ascend to constantinople. at the same time the plague broke out in constantinople with horrible violence, a thousand dying daily, for several weeks. the immense crimean peninsula contains fifteen thousand square miles, being twice as large as the state of massachusetts. the isthmus of perikop, which connects it with the mainland, is but five miles in width. the turks had fortified this passage by a ditch seventy-two feet wide, and forty-two feet deep, and had stationed along this line an army of fifty thousand tartars. but the russians forced the barrier, and the crimea became a russian province. the victorious army, however, soon encountered a foe whom no courage could vanquish. the plague broke out in their camp, and spread through all russia, with desolation which seems incredible, although well authenticated. in moscow, not more than one fourth of the inhabitants were left alive. more than sixty thousand died in that city in less than a year. for days the dead lay in the streets where they had fallen, there not being carts or people enough to carry them away. the pestilence gradually subsided before the intensity of wintry frosts. the devastations of war and of the plague rendered both the russians and turks desirous of peace. on the d of august, , the russian and turkish plenipotentiaries met under tents, on a plain about nineteen miles north of bucharest, the capital of wallachia. the russian ministers approached in four grand coaches, preceded by hussars, and attended by one hundred and sixty servants in livery. the turkish ministers came on horseback, with about sixty servants, all dressed in great simplicity. the two parties, however, could not agree, and the conference was broken up. the negotiations were soon resumed at bucharest, but this attempt was also equally unsuccessful with the first. the plot for the partition of poland was now ripe. russia, prussia and austria had agreed to march their armies into the kingdom and divide a very large portion of the territory between them. it was as high-handed a robbery as the world ever witnessed. there is some consolation, however, in the reflection, that the masses of the people in poland were quite unaffected by the change. they were no more oppressed by their new despots than they had been for ages by their old ones. by this act, russia annexed to her territory the enormous addition of three thousand four hundred and forty square leagues, sparsely inhabited, indeed, yet containing a population of one million five hundred thousand. austria obtained less territory, but nearly twice as many inhabitants. prussia obtained the contiguous provinces she coveted, with about nine hundred thousand inhabitants. they still left to the king of poland, in this first partition, a small fragment of his kingdom. the king of prussia removed from his portion the first year twelve thousand families, who were sent to populate the uninhabited wilds of his hereditary dominions. all the young men were seized and sent to the prussian army. the same general course was pursued by russia. that the polish population might be incorporated with that of russia, and all national individuality lost, the poles were removed into ancient russia, while whole provinces of russians were sent to populate poland. the vast wealth which at this time the russian court was able to extort from labor, may be inferred from the fact, that while the empress was carrying on the most expensive wars, her disbursements to favorites, generals and literary men--in encouraging the arts, purchasing libraries, pictures, statues, antiques and jewels, vastly exceeded that of any european prince excepting louis xiv. a diamond of very large size and purity, weighing seven hundred and seventy-nine carats, was brought from ispahan by a greek. catharine purchased it for five hundred thousand dollars, settling at the same time a pension of five thousand dollars for life, upon the fortunate greek of whom she bought it. the war still raged fiercely in turkey with the usual vicissitudes of battles. the danube at length became the boundary between the hostile armies, its wide expanse of water, its islands and its wooded shores affording endless opportunity for surprises, ambuscades, flight and pursuit. under these circumstances war was prosecuted with an enormous loss of life; but as the wasting armies were continually being replenished, it seemed as though there could be no end to the strife. catharine had for some time been meditating a marriage for her son, the grand duke paul. there was a grand duchy in germany, on the rhine, almost equally divided by that stream, called darmstadt. it contained three thousand nine hundred square miles, being about half the size of the state of massachusetts, and embraced a population of nearly a million. the duke of darmstadt had three very attractive daughters, either one of whom, catharine thought, would make a very suitable match for her son. she accordingly invited the three young ladies, with their mother, to visit her court, that her son might, after a careful scrutiny, take his pick. the brilliance of the prospective match with the tzar of all the russias outweighed every scruple, and the invitation was eagerly accepted. paul was cold as an iceberg, stubborn as a mule and crack-brained, but he could place on the brow of his spouse the crown of an empress. catharine received her guests with the greatest magnificence, loaded them with presents, and finally chose one of them, wilhelmina, for the bride of paul. the marriage was solemnized on the th of november, , with all the splendor with which the russian court could invest the occasion, the festivities being continued from the th to the st of the month. catharine, with her own hand, kept up a regular correspondence with many literary and scientific men in other parts of europe, particularly with voltaire and diderot, the illustrious philosophers of france. several times she sent them earnest invitations to visit her court. diderot accepted her invitation, and was received with confiding and friendly attentions which no merely crowned head could have secured. diderot sat at the table of the empress, and daily held long social interviews with her, conversing upon politics, philosophy, legislation, freedom of conscience and the rights of nations. catharine was charmed with the enthusiasm and eloquence of her guest, but she perfectly appreciated the genius and the puerility combined in his character. "diderot," said she, "is a hundred years old in many respects, but in others he is no more than ten." the following letter from catharine to diderot, written with all the freedom of the most confidential correspondence, gives a clearer view of the character of catharine's mind, and of her energy, than any description could give. "now we are speaking of haughtiness, i have a mind to make a general confession to you on that head. i have had great successes during this war; that i am glad of it, you will very naturally conclude. i find that russia will be well known by this war. it will be seen how indefatigable a nation it is; that she possesses men of eminent merit, and who have all the qualities which go to the forming of heroes. it will be seen that she is deficient in no resources, but that she can defend herself and prosecute a war with vigor whenever she is unjustly attacked. "brimful of these ideas, i have never once thought of catharine, who, at the age of forty-two, can increase neither in body nor in mind, but, in the natural order of things, ought to remain, and will remain, as she is. do her affairs go on well? she says, so much the better. if they prosper less, she would employ all her faculties to put them in a better train. "this is my ambition, and i have none other. what i tell you, is the truth. i will go further, and say that, for the sparing of human blood, i sincerely wish for peace. but this peace is still a long way off, though the turks, from different motives, are ardently desirous of it. those people know not how to go about it. "i wish as much for the pacification of the unreasonable contentions of poland. i have to do there with brainless heads, each of which, instead of contributing to the common peace, on the contrary, throws impediments in the way of it by caprice and levity. my embassador has published a declaration adapted to open their eyes. but it is to be presumed that they will rather expose themselves to the last extremity than adopt, without delay, a wise and consistent rule of conduct. the vortices of descartes never existed anywhere but in poland. there every head is a vortex turning continually around itself. it is stopped by chance alone, and never by reason or judgment. "i have not yet received your _questions_,[ ] or your watches from ferney. i have no doubt that the work of your artificers is perfect, since they work under your eyes. do not scold your rustics for having sent me a surplus of watches. the expense of them will not ruin me. it would be very unfortunate for me if i were so far reduced as not to have, for sudden emergencies, such small sums whenever i want them. judge not, i beseech you, of our finances by those of the other ruined potentates of europe. though we have been engaged in war for three years, we proceed in our buildings, and every thing else goes on as in a time of profound peace. it is two years since any new impost was levied. the war, at present, has its fixed establishment; that once regulated, it never disturbs the course of other affairs. if we capture another kesa or two, the war is paid for. [footnote : questions sur l'encyclopedie.] "i shall be satisfied with myself whenever i meet with your approbation, monsieur. i likewise, a few weeks ago, read over again my instructions for the code, because i then thought peace to be nearer at hand than it is, and i found that i was right in composing them. i confess that this code will give me a considerable deal of trouble before it is brought to that degree of perfection at which i wish to see it. but no matter, it must be completed. "perhaps, in a little time, the khan of the crimea will be brought to me in person. i learn, this moment, that he did not cross the sea with the turks, but that he remained in the mountains with a very small number of followers, nearly as was the case with the pretender, in scotland, after the defeat at culloden. if he comes to me, we will try to polish him this winter, and, to take my revenge of him, i will make him dance, and he shall go to the french comedy. "just as i was about to fold up this letter, i received yours of the th of july, in which you inform me of the adventure that happened to my 'instruction'[ ] in france. i knew that anecdote, and even the appendix to it, in consequence of the order of the duke of choiseul. i own that i laughed on reading it in the newspapers, and i found that i was amply revenged." [footnote : her majesty's instruction for a code of laws.] chapter xxvi. reign of catharine ii. from to . peace with turkey.--court of catharine ii.--her personal appearance and habits.--conspiracy and rebellion.--defeat of the rebels.--magnanimity of catharine ii.--ambition of the empress.--court favorite.--division of russia into provinces.--internal improvements.--new partition of poland.--death of the wife of paul.--second marriage of the grand duke.--splendor of the russian court.--russia and austria secretly combine to drive the turks out of europe.--the emperor joseph ii. in peace was concluded with turkey, on terms which added greatly to the renown and grandeur of russia. by this treaty the crimea was severed from the ottoman porte, and declared to be independent. russia obtained the free navigation of the black sea, the bosporus and the dardanelles. immense tracts of land, lying on the euxine, were ceded to russia, and the grand seignior also paid catharine a large sum of money to defray the expenses of the war. no language can describe the exultation which this treaty created in st. petersburg. eight days were devoted, by order of the empress, to feasts and rejoicings. the doors of the prisons were thrown open, and even the siberian exiles were permitted to return. the court of catharine ii. at this period was the most brilliant in europe. in no other court was more attention paid to the most polished and agreeable manners. the expenditure on her court establishment amounted to nearly four millions of dollars a year. in personal appearance the empress was endowed with the attractions both of beauty and of queenly dignity. a cotemporary writer thus describes her: "she is of that stature which is necessarily requisite to perfect elegance of form in a lady. she has fine large blue eyes, with eyebrows and hair of a brownish color. her mouth is well-proportioned, chin round, with a forehead regular and open. her hands and arms are round and white, and her figure plump. her bosom is full, her neck high, and she carries her head with peculiar grace. "the empress never wears rich clothes except on solemn festivals, when her head and corset are entirely set with brilliants, and she wears a crown of diamonds and precious stones. her gait is majestic; and, in the whole of her form and manner there is something so dignified and noble, that if she were to be seen without ornament or any outward marks of distinction, among a great number of ladies of rank, she would be immediately esteemed the chief. she seems born to command, though in her character there is more of liveliness than of gravity. she is courteous, gentle, benevolent and outwardly devout." like almost every one who has attained distinction, catharine was very systematic in the employment of her time. she usually rose at about five o'clock both in summer and winter; and what seems most remarkable, prepared her own simple breakfast, as she was not fond of being waited upon. but a short time was devoted to her toilet. from eight to eleven in the forenoon she was busy in her cabinet, signing commissions and issuing orders of various purport. the hour, from eleven to twelve, was daily devoted to divine worship in her chapel. then, until one o'clock, she gave audience to the ministers of the various departments. from half past one till two she dined. she then returned to her cabinet, where she was busily employed in cares of state until four o'clock, when she took an airing in a coach or sledge. at six she usually exhibited herself for a short time to her subjects at the theater, and at ten o'clock she retired. court balls were not unfrequently given, but the empress never condescended to dance, though occasionally she would make one at a game of cards. she, however, took but little interest in the game, being much more fond of talking with the ladies, generals and ministers who surrounded her. even from these court balls the very sensible empress usually retired, by a side door, at ten o'clock. the empress informed herself minutely of every thing which concerned the administration of government. her ministers were merely instruments in her hands executing her imperial will. all matters relating to the army, the navy, the finances, the punishment of crime and to foreign affairs, were reported to her by her ministers, and were guided by her decisions. there must always be, in every government, an opposition party--that is, a party who wish to eject from office those in power, that they themselves may enjoy the loaves and fishes of governmental favor. this is peculiarly the case in an empire where a large class of haughty nobles are struggling for the preëminence. many of the bigoted clergy were exasperated by the toleration which the empress enjoined, and they united with the disaffected lords in a conspiracy for a revolution. the clergy in the provinces had great influence over the unlettered boors, and the conspiracy soon assumed a very threatening aspect. the first rising of rebellion was by the wild population scattered along the banks of the don. the rebellion was headed by an impostor, who declared that he was peter iii., and that, having escaped from those who had attempted his assassination, he had concealed himself for a long time, waiting for vengeance. this barbaric chieftain, who was called pugatshef, very soon found himself at the head of fourteen thousand fierce warriors, and commenced ravaging oriental russia. for a season his march was a constant victory. many thousand siberian exiles escaped from their gloomy realms and joined his standards. so astonishing was his success, that even catharine trembled. pugatshef waged a war of extermination against the nobles who were the supporters of catharine, in cold blood beheading their wives and children, and conferring their titles and estates upon his followers. the empress found it necessary to rouse all her energies to meet this peril. she issued a manifesto, which was circulated through all the towns of the empire, and raised a large army, which was dispatched to crush the rebellion. battle after battle ensued, until, at last, in a decisive conflict, the hosts of pugatshef were utterly cut up. still, this indefatigable warrior soon raised another army from the untamed barbarians of the don, and, rapidly descending the volga, attacked, by surprise, some russian regiments encamped upon its banks, and routed them with fearful slaughter. the astronomer, lovitch, a member of the imperial academy of sciences at st. petersburg, was, at that time, under the protection of these regiments, surveying the route for a canal between the don and the volga. pugatshef ordered his dragoons to thrust their pikes into the unfortunate man, and raise him upon them into the air, "in order," said he, "that he may be nearer the stars." they did this, and then cut him to pieces with their sabers. the troops of catharine pursued the rebels, encountered them in some intricate passes of the mountains, whence escape was impossible, and overwhelmed them with destruction. their vigorous leader, leaping from crag to crag, escaped, swam the volga, crossed, in solitude, vast deserts, and made new attempts to rally partisans around him. but his last hour was sounded. deserted by all, he was wandering from place to place, pursued like a wild beast, when some of his own confederates, basely betraying him, seized him, after a violent struggle, put him in irons, and delivered him to one of the officers of the russian army. the wretched man, preserving impenetrable silence, was conveyed to moscow in an iron cage. refusing to eat, food was forced down his stomach. the empress immediately appointed a commission for the trial of the rebel. she instructed the court to be satisfied with whatever voluntary confession of his crime he might make, forbidding them to apply the torture, or to require him to name his accomplices. the culprit was sentenced to have his hands and feet cut off, and then to be quartered. by order of the empress, however, he was first beheaded. eight of his accomplices were also executed, eighteen underwent the knout, and were then exiled to siberia. thus terminated a rebellion which cost the lives of more than a hundred thousand men. over those wide regions, whose exact boundaries are even now scarcely known, numerous nations are scattered, quite distinct in language, religion and customs, and so separated by almost impassable deserts, that they know but little of each other. these wilds, peopled by war-loving races, afford the most attractive field for military adventures. the energy and sagacity with which catharine crushed this formidable rebellion added greatly to her renown. tranquillity being restored, the empress, in order to crown a general pardon, forbade any further allusion whatever to be made to the rebellion, consigning all its painful events to utter oblivion. she even forbade the publication of the details of the trial, saying, "i shall keep the depositions of pugatshef secret, that they may not aggravate the disgrace of those who spurred him on." the empress was ambitious to make her influence felt in every european movement, and she was conscious that, in order to command the respect of other courts, she must ever have a formidable army at her disposal. in all the great movements of kings and courts this wonderful woman performed her part with dignity which no monarch, male or female, has ever surpassed. it is strange that it has taken so many centuries for the nations to learn that peace, not war, enriches realms. had russia abstained from those wars in which she has unnecessarily engaged, she might now have been the most wealthy and powerful nation on the globe. admitting that there have been many wars which, involving her national existence, she could not have avoided, still she has squandered countless millions of money and of lives in battles which were quite unnecessary. russia, like the united states, is safe from all attacks from without. had russia employed the yearly earnings of the empire in cultivating the fields, rearing towns, and in extending the arts of industry and refinement, infinitely more would have been accomplished for her happiness and renown than by the most brilliant conquests. but catharine, in her high ambition, seemed to be afraid that europe might forget her, and she was eager to have her voice heard in the deliberations of every cabinet, and to have her banners unfurled in the march of every army. there was an office, in the court of the empress, sanctioned by time in russia, which has not existed in any other court in europe. it perhaps originated from the fact that for about three fourths of a century russia was almost exclusively governed by women. the court favorite was not merely the prime minister, but the confidential friend and companion of the empress. on the day of his installation he received a purse containing one hundred thousand dollars, and a salary of twelve thousand dollars a month. a marshal was also commissioned to provide him a table of twenty-four covers, and to defray all the expenses of his household. the twelve thousand dollars a month were for what the ladies call _pin money_. the favorite occupied in the palace an apartment beneath that of the empress, to which it communicated by a private stair-case. he attended the empress on all parties of amusement, at the opera, the theater, balls, promenades and excursions of pleasure, and he was not allowed to leave the palace without express permission. it was also understood that he should pay no attention to any lady but the empress. the year dawned upon russia with peace at home and abroad. catharine devoted herself anew to the improvement of her subjects in education and all physical comforts. prince gregory orlof had been for many years the favorite of the empress, but he was now laid aside, and count potemkin took his place. catharine now divided her extensive realms into forty-three great provinces, over each of which a governor was appointed. these provinces embraced from six to eight hundred thousand inhabitants. there was then a subdivision into districts or circles, as they were called. there were some ten of these districts in each province, and they contained from forty to sixty thousand inhabitants. an entire system of government was established for each province, with its laws and tribunals, that provision might be made for every thing essential to the improvement and embellishment of the country. the governors of these provinces were invested with great dignity and splendor. the gubernatorial courts, if they may so be called, established centers of elegance and refinement, which it was hoped would exert a powerful influence in polishing a people exceedingly rude and uncultivated. there were also immense advantages derived from the uniform administration of justice thus established. this new division of the empire was the most comprehensive reform russia had yet experienced. thus the most extensive empire on the globe, with its geographical divisions so vast and dissimilar, was cemented into one homogeneous body politic. until this great reform the inhabitants of the most distant provinces had been compelled to travel to petersburg and moscow in their appeals to the tribunals of justice. now there were superior courts in all the provinces, and inferior courts in all the districts. in all important cases there was an appeal to the council of the empress. russian ships, laden with the luxuries of the mediterranean, passed through the dardanelles and the bosporus, and landed their precious freights upon the shores of azof, from whence they were transported into the heart of russia, thus opening a very lucrative commerce. the polish nobles, a very turbulent and intractable race of men, were overawed by the power of catharine, and the masses of the polish people were doubtless benefited by their transference to new masters. russia was far more benignant in its treatment of the conquered provinces, than were her banditti accomplices, prussia and austria. the road to china, traversed by caravans, was long and perilous, through pathless and inhospitable wilds, where, for leagues, no inhabitant could be seen, and yet where a fertile soil and a genial clime promised, to the hand of industry, all the comforts and luxuries of life. all along this road she planted villages, and, by the most alluring offers, induced settlers to establish themselves on all portions of the route. large sums of money were expended in rendering the rivers navigable. in the year , the grand duchess, consort of paul, who was heir to the throne, died in childbirth, and was buried in the same grave with her babe. about the same time prince henry of prussia visited the russian court to confer with catharine upon some difficulties which had arisen in the demarcations of poland. it will be remembered that in the division which had now taken place, the whole kingdom had not been seized, but a remnant had been left as the humble patrimony of poniatowski, the king. in this interview with the empress, prince henry said, "madam, i see one sure method of obviating all difficulty. it may perhaps be displeasing to you on account of poniatowski.[ ] but you will nevertheless do well to give it your approbation, since compensations may be offered to that monarch of greater value to him than the throne which is continually tottering under him. the remainder of poland must be partitioned." [footnote : poniatowski had been formerly a favorite of the empress.] the empress cordially embraced the plan, and the annihilation of poland was decreed. it was necessary to move slowly and with caution in the execution of the plan. in the meantime, as the grand duchess had died, leaving no heir to the empire, the empress deemed it a matter of the utmost moment to secure another wife for the grand duke paul, lest russia should be exposed to the perils of a disputed succession. natalia was hardly cold in her grave ere the empress proposed to prince henry, that his niece, the princess of wirtemberg, should become the spouse of the grand duke. the princess was already betrothed to the hereditary prince of hesse darmstadt, but both henry and his imperial brother, frederic of prussia, deemed the marriage of their niece with the prospective emperor of russia a match far too brilliant to be thwarted by so slight an obstacle. frederic himself informed the prince of the exalted offer which had been made to his betrothed, and without much difficulty secured his relinquishment of his contemplated bride. frederic deemed it a matter of infinite moment that the ties subsisting between russia and prussia should be more closely drawn. he wrote to his brother henry of his success, and by the same courier invited the grand duke paul to visit berlin that he might see the new spouse designed for him. he also expressed his own ardent desire to become acquainted with the grand duke. catharine, highly gratified with this success, placed a purse of fifty thousand dollars in the hands of her son to defray the expenses of his journey. it was at the close of the summer of when the grand duke left the palaces of st. petersburg to visit those of berlin. his mother, who made all the arrangements, dispatched her son on this visit in a style of regal splendor. when the party reached riga, a courier overtook them with the following characteristic letter, written by the empress's own hand to prince henry: "june , . "i take the liberty of transmitting to your royal highness the four letters of which i spoke to you, and which you promised to take care of. the first is for the king, your brother, and the others for the prince and princesses of wirtemberg. i venture to pray you, that if my son should bestow his heart on the princess sophia, as i have no doubt but what he will, to deliver the three letters according to their directions, and to support the contents of them with that persuasive eloquence with which god has endowed you. "the convincing and reiterated proofs which you have given me of your friendship, the high esteem which i have conceived for your virtues, and the extent of the confidence which you have taught me to repose in you, leave me no doubt on the success of a business which i have so much at heart. was it possible for me to place it in better hands? "your royal highness is surely an unique in the art of negotiation. pardon me that expression of my friendship. but i think that there has never been an affair of this nature transacted as this is; which is the production of the most intimate friendship and confidence. "that princess will be the pledge of it. i shall not be able to see her without recollecting in what manner this business was begun, continued and terminated, between the royal house of prussia and that of russia. may it perpetuate the connections which unite us! "i conclude by very tenderly thanking your royal highness for all the cares and all the troubles you have given yourself; and i beseech you to be assured that my gratitude, my friendship, my esteem, and the high consideration which i have for you, will terminate only with my life. "catharine." the grand duke paul was received in berlin with all the honors due his rank as heir to the imperial throne of russia. the great frederic even came to the door of his apartment to greet his guest. the grand duke was escorted into the city with much pomp. thirty-four trumpeters, winding their bugles, preceded him, all in rich uniform. then came a strong array of soldiers. these were followed by a civic procession, in brilliant decorations. three superb state coaches, containing the dignitaries of berlin, came next in the train, followed by a detachment of the life-guards, who preceded the magnificent chariot of the duke, which chariot was regarded as the most superb which had then ever been seen, and which was drawn by eight of the finest horses prussia could produce. this carriage conveyed paul and prince henry. a hundred dragoons, as a guard of honor, closed the procession. at the gates of the city the magistracy received paul beneath a triumphal arch, where seventy beautiful girls, dressed like nymphs and shepherdesses, presented the grand duke with complimentary verses, and crowned him with a garland of flowers. the ringing of bells, the pealing of cannon, strains of martial music, and the acclamations of the multitude, greeted paul from the time he entered the gates until he reached the royal palace. "sire," exclaimed paul, as he took the hand of the king of prussia, "the motives which bring me from the extremities of the north to these happy dominions, are the desire of assuring your majesty of the friendship and alliance to subsist henceforth and for ever between russia and prussia, and the eagerness to see a princess destined to ascend the throne of the russian empire. by my receiving her at your hands, i assure you that she will be more dear to myself and to the nation over which she is to reign. it has also been one of the most ardent aspirations of my soul to contemplate the greatest of heroes, the admiration of our age and the astonishment of posterity." here the king interrupted him, replying, "instead of which, you behold a hoary-headed valitudinarian, who could never have wished for a superior happiness than that of welcoming within these walls the hopeful heir of a mighty empire, the only son of my best friend, catharine." after half an hour's conversation, the grand duke was led into the apartment of the queen, where the court was assembled. here he was introduced to his contemplated bride, sophia, princess of wirtemberg, and immediately, in the name of the empress of russia, demanded her in marriage of the grand duke. the marriage contract was signed the same day. the whole company then supped with the queen in great magnificence. feasts and entertainments succeeded for many days without interruption. on the d of august, paul returned to st. petersburg, where his affianced bride soon joined him. as he took leave, the king of prussia presented him with dessert service and a coffee service, with ten porcelain vases of berlin manufacture, a ring, containing the king's portrait, surmounted with a diamond valued at thirty thousand crowns, and also a stud of prussian horses and four pieces of rich tapestry. upon the arrival of the princess, she was received into the greek church, assuming the name of maria, by which she was ever after called. the marriage soon took place, and from this marriage arose the two distinguished emperors, alexander and nicholas. the empress was exceedingly gratified by the successful accomplishment of this plan. with energy which seemed never to tire, she urged forward her plans for national improvements, establishing schools all over the empire, which were munificently supported at the imperial expense. the splendor of the russian court, during the reign of catharine, surpassed all ordinary powers of description. almost boundless wealth was lavished upon gorgeous dresses--lords and ladies glittering alike in most costly jewelry. many courtiers appeared almost literally covered with diamonds. they sparkled, in most lavish profusion, upon their buttons, their buckles, the scabbards of their swords, their epaulets, and many even wore a triple row as a band around the hat. frequently eight thousand tickets were given out for a ball at the palace, and yet there was no crowd, for twenty saloons, of magnificent dimensions, brilliantly lighted, afforded room for all. her majesty usually entered the saloons about seven o'clock, and retired about ten. the empress never ceased to look with a wistful eye upon the regions which the turks had wrested from the christians. the commercial greatness of russia, in her view, imperiously required that constantinople and its adjacent shores should be in her possession. in may, , catharine had an interview with joseph ii., emperor of germany, at mohilef. both sovereigns traveled with great pomp to meet at this place. after several confidential interviews, they agreed to unite their forces to drive the turks out of europe, and to share the spoil between them. it was also agreed to reëstablish the ancient republics of greece. the emperor, joseph ii., received an earnest invitation to visit moscow, which he accepted, but, with characteristic eccentricity, refused to travel with the queen, as he was excessively annoyed by the trammels of etiquette and ceremonial pomp. the empress, consequently, returned to st. petersburg, and joseph ii. set out for moscow in the following fashion: leaving his carriages with his suite to follow, he proceeded alone, _incognito_, on horse-back, as the _avant courier_. at each station he would announce that his master the emperor, with the imperial carriages, was coming on, and that dinner, supper or lodgings must be provided for so many persons. calling for a slice of ham and a cup of beer, he would throw himself upon a bench for a few hours' repose, constantly refusing to take a bed, as the expedition he must make would not allow this indulgence. at mohilef, the empress had provided magnificent apartments, in the palace, for the emperor; but he insisted upon taking lodgings at an ordinary inn. at st. petersburg, notwithstanding the emperor's repugnance to pomp, catharine received him with entertainments of the greatest magnificence. joseph, however, took but little interest in such displays, devoting his attention almost exclusively to useful establishments and monuments of art. he was surprised to find at tula, manufactories of hardware unsurpassed by those of sheffield and birmingham. he expressed his surprise, on his return home, at the mixture of refinement and barbarism russia had presented to his view. the empress, seeing that so many princes visited foreign countries, decided to send her son paul, with maria, to make the tour of europe. obedient to the maternal commands, they commenced their travels through poland and austria to italy, and returned to st. petersburg, through france and holland, after an absence of fourteen months. the empress had a confidential agent in their company, who kept her informed, minutely, of every event which transpired. a courier was dispatched every day to inform her where they were and how they were employed. the relations between turkey and russia were continually growing more threatening. turkey had been compelled to yield the crimea, and also to surrender the navigation of the euxine, with the bosporus and the dardanelles, to her powerful rival. galled by these concessions, which had been forced upon her by bullet and bayonet, the ottoman porte was ever watching to regain her lost power. russia, instead of being satisfied with her acquisitions, was eagerly grasping at more. the greek christians also, throughout the turkish empire, hating their mussulman oppressors, were ever watching for opportunities when they could shake off the burden and the insult of slavery. thus peace between russia and turkey was never more than an armistice. the two powers constantly faced each other in a hostile attitude, ever ready to appeal to arms. chapter xxvii. termination of the reign of catharine ii. from to . statue of peter the great.--alliance between austria and russia.--independence of the crimea.--the khan of the crimea.--vast preparations for war.--national jealousies.--tolerant spirit of catharine.--magnificent excursion to the crimea.--commencement of hostilities.--anecdote of paul.--peace.--new partition of poland.--treaty with austria and france.--hostility to liberty in france.--death of catharine.--her character. catharine found time, amidst all the cares of empire, to devote special attention to the education of her grandchildren alexander and constantine, who had been born during the five years which had now elapsed since the marriage of paul and maria. for their instruction as they advanced in years, she wrote several historical and moral essays of no small merit. the "tales of chlor, son of the tzar," and "the little samoyede," are beautiful compositions from her pen, alike attractive to the mature and the youthful mind. the histories and essays she wrote for these children have since been collected and printed in french, under the title of "bibliotheque des grands-ducs alexandre et constantin." the empress, about this time, resolved to erect, in st. petersburg, a statue of peter the great, which should be worthy of his renown. a french artist, m. falconet, was engaged to execute this important work. he conceived the design of having, for a pedestal, a rugged rock, to indicate the rude and unpolished character of the people to whom the emperor had introduced so many of the arts of civilization. immediate search was made to find a suitable rock. about eight miles from the city a huge boulder was discovered, forty-two feet long, thirty-four feet broad, and twenty-one feet high. it was found, by geometric calculation, that this enormous mass weighed three millions two hundred thousand pounds. it was necessary to transport it over heights and across morasses to the neva, and there to float it down to the place of its destination. the boulder lay imbedded a few feet in the ground, absolutely detached from all other rock, and with no similar substance anywhere in the vicinity. it would seem impossible that a mass so stupendous could be moved. but difficulties only roused the energies of catharine. in the first place, a solid road was made for its passage. after four months' labor, with very ingenious machinery, the rock was so far raised as to enable them to slip under it heavy plates of brass, which rested upon cannon balls five inches in diameter, and which balls ran in grooves of solid metal. then, by windlasses, worked by four hundred men, it was slowly forced along its way. having arrived at the neva, it was floated down the river by what are called camels, that is immense floating fabrics constructed with air chambers so as to render them very buoyant. this statue as completed is regarded as one of the grandest ever executed. the tzar is represented as on horseback, ascending a steep rock, the summit of which he is resolved to attain. in an asiatic dress and crowned with laurel, he is pointing forward with his right hand, while with his left he holds the bridle of the magnificent charger on which he is mounted. the horse stands on his hind feet bounding forward, trampling beneath a brazen serpent, emblematic of the opposition the monarch encountered and overcame. it bears the simple inscription, "to peter the first, by catharine the second, ." the whole expense of the statue amounted to over four hundred thousand dollars, an immense sum for that day, when a dollar was worth more than many dollars now. at the close of the year , the emperor of germany and catharine ii. entered into an alliance for the more energetic prosecution of the war against the turks. they issued very spirited proclamations enumerating their grievances, and immediately appeared on the turkish frontiers with vast armies. the attention of catharine was constantly directed towards constantinople, the acquisition of which city, with the bosporus and the dardanelles, was the object which, of all others, was the nearest to her heart. on the banks of the dnieper, eighteen hundred miles from st. petersburg, she laid the foundations of kherson as a maritime port, and in an almost incredibly short time a city rose there containing forty thousand inhabitants. from its ship-yards vessels of war were launched which struck terror into the ottoman empire. by previous wars, it will be remembered, the crimea had been wrested from the turks and declared to be independent, remaining nominally in the hands of the tartars. catharine ii. immediately took the tartar khan of the crimea under her special protection, loaded him with favors, and thus assumed the guidance of his movements. he became enervated by luxury, learned to despise the rude manners of his countrymen, engaged a russian cook, and was served from silver plate. instead of riding on horseback he traveled in a splendid chariot, and even solicited a commission in the russian army. catharine contrived to foment a revolt against her protegé the khan, and then, very kindly, marched an army into the crimea for his relief. she then, without any apology, took possession of the whole of the crimea, and received the oath of allegiance from all the officers of the government. indeed, there appears to have been no opposition to this measure. the tartar khan yielded with so much docility that he soon issued a manifesto in which he abdicated his throne, and transferred the whole dominion of his country to catharine. turkey, exasperated, prepared herself furiously for war. russia formed an alliance with the emperor of germany, and armies were soon in movement upon a scale such as even those war-scathed regions had never witnessed before. the danube, throughout its whole course, was burdened with the barges of the emperor of germany, heavily laden with artillery, military stores and troops. more than a hundred thousand men were marched down to the theater of conflict from hungary. fifteen hundred pieces of artillery were in the train of these vast armies of the german emperor. the russian force was equally efficient, as it directed its march through the plains of poland, and floated down upon the waters of the don and the dnieper. the turkish sultan was not wanting in energy. from all his wide-spread domains in europe and asia, he marshaled his hosts, and engaged from other nations of europe, and particularly from france, the most skillful officers and engineers, to introduce into his armies european discipline and improvements in weapons of war. the ottoman porte issued a manifesto, which was a very remarkable document both in vigor of style and nobility of sentiment. after severely denouncing the enormous encroachments of russia, extending her dominions unscrupulously in every direction, the sultan asked indignantly, "what right can russia have to territories annexed for ages to the dominions of the porte? should the porte make such claims on any portion of the russian dominions, would they not be repulsed? and can it be presumed that the sublime porte, however desirous of peace, will acquiesce in wrong which, however it may be disguised, reason and equity must deem absolute usurpation? what northern power has the porte offended? whose territories have the ottoman troops invaded? in the country of what prince is the turkish standard displayed? content with the boundaries of empire assigned by god and the prophet, the wishes of the porte are for peace; but if the court of russia be determined in her claim, and will not recede without the acquisition of territories which do not belong to her, the sublime porte, appealing to the world for the justice of its proceedings, must prepare for war, relying on the decrees of heaven, and confident in the interposition of the prophet of prophets, that he will protect his faithful followers in the hour of every difficulty." no mohammedan pen could have produced so vigorous a document. it was written by the english minister at constantinople, sir robert ainslie. catharine ii., apprehensive that, while all her armies were engaged on the banks of the euxine, sweden might attack her on the shores of the baltic, decided to form a new treaty of peace with gustavus iii. an interview was arranged to take place at frederiksham, a small but strongly fortified town upon the gulf of finland, the last town occupied by the russians towards the frontiers of sweden. the empress repaired thither in a yacht the th of june, . gustavus iii., with his suite, met her at the appointed hour. two contiguous houses were prepared, furnished with the utmost splendor, and connected by a gallery, so that, during the four days these sovereigns remained at frederiksham, they could meet and converse at any time. there is still a picture existing, painted by order of catharine, representing the empress and the swedish monarch in one of their most confidential interviews. catharine ii. promised gustavus that if he would faithfully remain neutral during her war with turkey she would, at its close, aid sweden in gaining possession of norway. the two sovereigns, having exchanged rich presents, separated, mutually delighted with each other. the empress had now seventy thousand men on the frontiers of the crimea, and a reserve of forty thousand on the march to strengthen them. a third army of great power was rendezvoused at kief. a large squadron of ships of war was ready for battle in the sea of azof, and another squadron was prepared to sail from the baltic for the mediterranean. england, alarmed by the growth of russia, did every thing in her power to stimulate the turks to action. but the porte, overawed by the force brought against her, notwithstanding the brave manifesto it had been induced to issue, sued for peace. yielding to all the demands of russia a treaty was soon signed. catharine gained undisputed possession of the crimea, large portions of circassia, the whole of the black sea, and also the free passage of the dardanelles. thus, without firing a gun, russia gained several thousand square miles of territory, and an addition of more than a million and a half of inhabitants, with commercial privileges which added greatly to the wealth of the empire. catharine's fleet now rode triumphantly upon the caspian, and she resolved to extend her dominions along the western shores of that inland sea. these vast regions were peopled by warlike tribes, ever engaged in hostilities against each other. slowly but surely she advanced her conquests and reared her fortresses through those barbaric wilds. at the same time she was pushing her acquisitions with equal sagacity and success along the shores of kamtschatka. with great vigor she encouraged her commercial caravans to penetrate china, and even opened relations with japan, obtaining from that jealous people permission to send a trading ship to their coast every year. no persons are so jealous of the encroachments of others as those who are least scrupulous in regard to the encroachments which they themselves make. the english government, whose boast it is that the sun, in its circuit of the globe, never ceases to shine on their domains, watches with an eagle eye lest any other government on the globe should venture upon the most humble act of annexation. so it was with catharine. though adding to her vast dominions in every quarter; though appropriating, alike in peace and in war, all the territory she could lay her hands upon, she could inveigh against the inordinate ambition of other nations with the most surprising volubility. the increasing fame and power of frederic ii. had for some time disturbed her equanimity, and she manifested great anxiety lest he should be guilty of the impropriety of annexing some petty duchy to his domains. since he had united with catharine and austria in the banditti partition of poland, he had continually been making all the encroachments in his power; adding acres to his domains as catharine added square leagues to hers. in precisely the same spirit, england, who was grasping at all the world, protested, with the most edifying devotion to the claims of justice and humanity, against the ambitious spirit of russia. the "beam" did not exclude the vision of the "mote." catharine, offended by the opposition of england, retaliated by entering into a treaty of commerce with france, which deprived england of an important part of the russian trade. the spirit of toleration manifested by catharine is worthy of all praise. during the whole of her reign she would not allow any one to be persecuted, in the slightest degree, on account of religious opinions. all the conquered provinces were protected in the free exercise of their religion. lutherans, calvinists, moravians, papists, mohammedans, and pagans of all kinds, not only enjoyed freedom of opinion and of worship, but could alike aspire to any post, civil or military, of which they could prove themselves worthy. at one time, when urged by the hateful spirit of religious bigotry to frown upon some heresy, she replied smiling, "poor wretches! since we know that they are to suffer so much and so long in the world to come, it is but reasonable that we should endeavor, by all means, to make their situation here as comfortable as we can." though catharine ii. had many great defects of character, she had many virtues which those who have denounced her most severely might do well to imitate. her crowning vice, and the one which, notwithstanding her virtues, has consigned her name to shame, was that she had a constant succession of lovers who by secret and very informal nuptial rites were bound to her for a season, each one of whom was exchanged for another as caprice incited. the spirit of national aggrandizement which influenced catharine, was a spirit possessed, to an equal extent, at that time, by every cabinet in christendom. it was the great motive power of the age. dismembered poland excites our sympathy; but poland was as eager to share in the partition of other states as she was reluctant to submit to that operation herself. in personal character catharine was humane, tolerant, self-denying, and earnestly devoted to the welfare of her empire. religious teachers, of all denominations, freely met at her table. this christian liberality, thus encouraged in the palace, spread through the realm, producing the most beneficial results. on the occasion of a celebrated festival, catharine gave a grand dinner party to ecclesiastics of all communions at the palace. this entertainment she called the "dinner of toleration." the representatives of eight different forms of worship met around this hospitable board. the instruction of the masses of the people occupied much of the attention of this extraordinary woman. she commenced with founding schools in the large towns; and then proceeded to the establishment of them in various parts of the country. many normal schools were established for the education of teachers. the empress herself attended the examinations and questioned the scholars. on one of these occasions, when a learned german professor of history was giving a lecture to some pupils, gathered from the tribes of siberia, the empress proposed an objection to some views he advanced. the courtiers were shocked at the learned man's presumption in replying to the objection in the most conclusive manner. the empress, ever eager in the acquisition of knowledge, admitted her mistake, and thanked the professor for having rectified it with so much ability. she purchased, at a high price, the libraries of d'alembert, and of voltaire, immediately after the death of those illustrious men. she also purchased the valuable cabinet of natural curiosities collected by professor pallas. the most accomplished engineers she could obtain were sent to explore the mountains of caucasus, and even to the frontiers of china. when we consider the trackless deserts to be explored, the inhospitable climes and barbarous nations to be encountered, these were enterprises far more perilous than the circumnavigation of the globe. the scientific expedition to china was escorted by a corps of eight hundred and ten chosen men, led by one hundred and seven distinguished officers. the _savans_ were provided with every thing which could be thought of to promote their comfort and to aid them in their explorations, and three years were alloted as the probable term of service required by the mission. at the same time a naval expedition was fitted out to explore the northern seas, and ascertain the limits of the russian empire. but the greatest work of catharine's reign was the completion of the canal which united the waters of the volga and the neva, and thus established an inland navigation through all the countries which lie between the caspian sea and the baltic. in the year the empress announced her intention of making a magnificent journey to the crimea, in order to be crowned sovereign of her new conquests. this design was to be executed in the highest style of oriental pomp, as the empress was resolved to extend her sway over all the nations of the tartars. but the tartars of those unmeasured realms, informed of the contemplated movement, were alarmed, and immediately combined their energies for a determined resistance. the grand seignior was also goaded to the most desperate exertions, for the empress had formed the design, and the report was universally promulgated, of placing her second grandchild, constantine, on the throne of constantinople. the empress set out on her triumphal journey to the crimea, on the th of january, , accompanied by a magnificent suite. the sledges, large, commodious and so lined with furs as to furnish luxurious couches for repose, traveled night and day. relays of horses were collected at all the stations and immense bonfires blazed at night all along the road. twenty-one days were occupied in the journey to kief, where the empress was met by all the nobles of that portion of the empire. here fifty magnificent galleys, upon the ice of the dnieper, awaited the arrival of the empress and the opening of the river. on the th of may the ice was gone, the barges were afloat, and the empress with her suite embarked. the king of poland, who had now assumed his old name of count poniatowski, here met, in the barge of the empress, his rival, stanislaus augustus. the passage down the river, in this lovely month of spring, was like a fairy scene. the banks of the dnieper were lined with villages constructed for the occasion. peasants, in the most picturesque costumes, tended their flocks, or attended to various industrial arts as the flotilla drifted by. the emperor of germany, joseph ii., met the empress at kaidak, from whence they proceeded together, by land, to kherson. here catharine lodged in a palace where a throne had been erected for the occasion which cost fourteen thousand dollars. the whole expense of this one journey exceeded seven millions of dollars. from kherson the empress proceeded to the inland part of the crimean peninsula. her body guard consisted of an army of one hundred and fifty thousand men, stationed at but a short distance from her. the entertainments in the crimea were of the most gorgeous character, and were arranged without any regard to expense. on the return of the empress she reached st. petersburg the end of july, having been absent six months and four days. all europe was surprised at the supineness which the sultan had manifested in allowing catharine to prosecute her journey unobstructed; but turkey was not then prepared for the commencement of hostilities. a squadron of thirty ships of war soon sailed from constantinople and entered the euxine. the turks were apprehensive that the greeks might rise and disarmed them all before commencing the campaign. the empress had equipped, at azof and kherson, eight ships of the line, twelve frigates, and two hundred gun-boats. she had, in addition, a large squadron at cronstadt, ready to sail for the mediterranean. eighty thousand soldiers were also on the march from germany to moldavia. every thing indicated that the entire overthrow of the ottoman empire was at hand. the thunders of battle soon commenced on the sea and on the land. both parties fought with desperation. russia and austria endeavored to unite france with them, in the attempt to dismember the turkish empire as poland had been partitioned, but france now stood in dread of the gigantic growth both of russia and of austria, and was by no means disposed to strengthen those powers. england was also secretly aiding the turks and sending them supplies. influenced by the same jealousy against russia, sweden ventured to enter into an alliance with the turks, while prussia, from the same motive, secretly lent gustavus iii. money, and england sent him a fleet. thus, all of a sudden, new and appalling dangers blazed upon russia. so many troops had been sent to the crimea that catharine was quite unprepared for an attack from the swedish frontier. the grand duke paul begged permission of his mother that he might join the army against the turks. the empress refused her consent. "my intention," wrote again the grand duke, "of going to fight against the ottomans is publicly known. what will europe say, in seeing that i do not carry it into effect?" "europe will say," catharine replied, "that the grand duke of russia is a dutiful son." the appearance of the powerful swedish fleet in the baltic rendered it necessary for catharine to recall the order for the squadron at cronstadt to sail for the mediterranean. the roar of artillery now reverberated alike along the shores of the baltic and over the waves of the euxine. denmark and norway were brought into the conflict, and all europe was again the theater of intrigues and battles. it would be a weary story to relate the numerous conflicts, defeats and victories which ensued. famine and pestilence desolated the regions where the turkish and russian armies were struggling. army after army was destroyed until men began to grow scarce in the russian empire. even the wilds of siberia were ransacked for exiles, and many of them were brought back to replenish the armies of the empress. at length, after a warfare of two years, with about equal success on both sides, catharine and gustavus came to terms, both equally glad to escape the blows which each gave the other. this peace enabled russia to concentrate her energies upon turkey. the turks now fell like grass before the scythe. but the russian generals and soldiers were often as brutal as demons. nominal christianity was no more merciful than was paganism. count potemkin, the leader of the russian army, was one of the worst specimens of the old aristocracy, which now, in many parts of europe, have gone down into a grave whence, it is to be hoped, there can be no resurrection. the turkish town of ismael was taken in september, , after enormous slaughter. the french revolution was at this time in rapid progress, and several frenchmen were in the russian army. to one of these, colonel langeron, potemkin said, "colonel, your countrymen are a pack of madmen. i would require only my grooms to stand by me, and we should soon bring them to their senses." langeron replied, "prince, i do not think you would be able to do it with all your army!" these words so exasperated the russian general that he rose in a rage, and threatened to send langeron to siberia. conscious of his peril the french colonel fled, and entered into the service of the austrians. emissaries of catharine were sent through all the greek isles, to urge the greeks to rise against the enemies of the cross and restore their country to independence. many of the greeks rose, and constantinople was in consternation. a grecian embassage waited upon catharine, imploring her aid for the enfranchisement of their country, and that she would give them her grandson constantine for a sovereign. on the th of february, , joseph ii., emperor of austria, died, and was succeeded by leopold ii., who, yielding to the influence of prussia, concluded a separate peace with the porte, and left catharine to contend alone with the ottomans. the empress now saw that, notwithstanding her victories, russia was exhausted, and that she could not hope for the immediate accomplishment of her ambitious projects, and she became desirous of peace. through the mediation of england terms of peace were proposed, and acceded to in january, . in this war it is estimated that russia lost two hundred thousand men, austria one hundred and thirty thousand, and turkey three hundred and thirty thousand. russia expended in this war, beneficial to none and ruinous alike to all, two hundred millions of dollars. the empress, thwarted in her designs upon turkey, now turned to poland. war was soon declared, and her armies were soon sweeping over that ill-fated territory. kosciusko fought like a hero for his country, but his troops were mercilessly butchered by russian and prussian armies. in triumph the allies entered the gory streets of warsaw, sent the king, stanislaus augustus, to exile on a small pension, and divided the remainder of poland between them. catharine now entered into the coalition of the european powers against republican france. she consented to a treaty with england and austria, by which she engaged to furnish an army of eighty thousand men to crush the spirit of french liberty, on condition that those two powers should consent to her driving turks out of europe. catharine was highly elated with this treaty. it was drawn up and was to be signed on the th of november, . on the morning of that day the empress, in her usual health and spirits, rose from the breakfast table, and retired to her closet. not returning as soon as usual, some of her attendants entered and found her on the floor senseless. she had fallen in a fit of apoplexy, and died at ten o'clock in the evening of the next day without regaining consciousness or uttering a word, in the sixty-seventh year of her age, and after a reign of thirty-five years. paul, who was at his country palace, being informed of his mother's death, and of his accession to the throne, hastened to st. petersburg. he ordered the tomb of peter iii. to be opened and placed the coffin by the side of that of the empress, with a true love knot reaching from one to the other, containing the inscription, under the circumstances supremely ridiculous, "divided in life--united in death." they were both buried together with the most sumptuous funeral honors. the character of catharine ii. is sufficiently portrayed in her marvelous history. the annals of past ages may be searched in vain for her parallel. two passions were ever predominant with her, love and ambition. her mind seemed incapable of exhaustion, and notwithstanding the number of her successive favorites, with whom she entered into the most guilty connections, no monarch ever reigned with more dignity or with a more undisputed sway. under her reign, notwithstanding the desolating wars, russia made rapid advances in power and civilization. she protected commerce, excited industry, cultivated the arts, encouraged learning, promoted manufactures, founded cities, dug canals, and developed in a thousand ways the wealth and resources of the country. she had so many vices that some have consigned her name to infamy, and so many virtues, that others have advocated her canonization. by the most careful calculation it is estimated that during the thirty five years of the reign of catharine, she added over four hundred thousand square miles to the territory of russia, and six millions of inhabitants. it would be difficult to estimate the multitude of lives and the amount of treasure expended in her ambitious wars. we know of no more affecting comment to be made upon the history of our world, than that it presents such a bloody tragedy, that even the career of catharine does not stand out in any peculiar prominence of atrocity. god made man but little lower than the angels. he is indeed fallen. chapter xxviii. the reign of paul i. from to . accession of paul i. to the throne.--influence of the hereditary transmission of power.--extravagance of paul.--his despotism.--the horse court martialed.--progress of the french revolution.--fears and violence of paul i.--hostility to foreigners.--russia joins the coalition against france.--march of suwarrow.--character of suwarrow.--battle on the adda.--battle of novi.--suwarrow marches to the rhine.--his defeat and death.--paul abandons the coalition and joins france.--conspiracies at st. petersburg. few sovereigns have ever ascended the throne more ignorant of affairs of state than was paul i. catharine had endeavored to protract his childhood, entrusting him with no responsibilities, and regulating herself minutely all his domestic and private concerns. he was carefully excluded from any participation in national affairs and was not permitted to superintend even his own household. catharine took his children under her own protection as soon as they were born, and the parents were seldom allowed to see them. paul i. had experienced, in his own person, all the burden of despotism ere he ascended russia's despotic throne. naturally desirous to secure popularity, he commenced his reign with acts which were much applauded. he introduced economy into the expenditures of the court, forbade the depreciation of the currency and the further issue of paper money, and withdrew the army which catharine had sent to persia on a career of conquest. paul i. did not love his mother. he did not believe that he was her legitimate child. still, as his only title to the throne was founded on his being the reputed child of peter iii., he did what he could to rescue the memory of that prince from the infamy to which it had been very properly consigned. he had felt so humiliated by the domineering spirit of catharine, that he resolved that russia should not again fall under the reign of a woman, and issued a decree that henceforth the crown should descend in the male line only, and from father to son. the new emperor manifested his hostility to his mother, by endeavoring in various ways to undo what she had done. the history of europe is but a continued comment upon the folly of the law of the hereditary descent of power, a law which is more likely to place the crown upon the brow of a knave, a fool or a madman, than upon that of one qualified to govern. russia soon awoke to the consciousness that the destinies of thirty millions of people were in the hands of a maniac, whose conduct seemed to prove that his only proper place was in one of the wards of bedlam. the grossest contradictions followed each other in constant succession. today he would caress his wife, to-morrow place her under military arrest. at one hour he would load his children with favors, and the next endeavor to expose them publicly to shame. though paul severely blamed his mother for the vast sums she lavished upon her court, these complaints did not prevent him from surpassing her in extravagance. the innumerable palaces she had reared and embellished with more than oriental splendor, were not sufficient for him. neither the winter palace, nor the summer palace, nor the palace of anitschkoff, nor the marble palace, nor the hermitage, whose fairy-like gorgeousness amazed all beholders, nor a crowd of other royal residences, too numerous to mention, and nearly all world-renowned, were deemed worthy of the residence of the new monarch. pretending that he had received a celestial injunction to construct a new palace, he built, reckless of expense, the chateau of st. michael. the crown of catharine was the wonder of europe, but it was not rich enough for the brow of paul. a new one was constructed, and his coronation at moscow was attended with freaks of expenditure which impoverished provinces. boundless gifts were lavished upon his favorites. but that he might enrich a single noble, ten thousand peasants were robbed. the crown peasants were vassals, enjoying very considerable freedom and many privileges. the peasantry of the nobles were slaves, nearly as much so as those on a cuban plantation, with the single exception that custom prevented their being sold except with the land. like the buildings, the oaks and the elms, they were inseparably attached to the soil. the emperor, at his coronation, gave away eighty thousand families to his favorites. their labor henceforth, for life, was all to go to enrich their masters. these courtiers, reveling in boundless luxury, surrendered their slaves to overseers, whose reputation depended upon extorting as much as possible from the miserable boors. the extravagance of catharine ii. had rendered it necessary for her to triple the capitation, or, as we should call it, the poll-tax, imposed upon the peasants. paul now doubled this tax, which his mother had already tripled. the king of prussia had issued a decree that no subject should fall upon his knees before him, but that every man should maintain in his presence and in that of the law the dignity of humanity. paul, on the contrary, reëstablished, in all its rigor, the oriental etiquette, which peter i. and catharine had allowed to pass into disuse, which required every individual, whether a citizen or a stranger, to fall instantly upon his knees whenever the tzar made his appearance. thus, when paul passed along the streets on horseback or in his carriage, every man, woman and child, within sight of the royal cortege, was compelled to kneel, whether in mud or snow, until the cortege had passed. no one was exempted from the rule. strangers and citizens, nobles and peasants, were compelled to the degrading homage. those on horseback or in carriages were required instantly to dismount and prostrate themselves before the despot. a noble lady who came to st. petersburg in her carriage, in great haste, to seek medical aid for her husband, who had been suddenly taken sick, in her trouble not having recognized the imperial livery, was dragged from her carriage and thrust into prison. her four servants, who accompanied her, were seized and sent to the army, although they plead earnestly that, coming from a distance, they were ignorant of the law, the infraction of which was attributed to them as a crime. the unhappy lady, thus separated from her sick husband, and plunged into a dungeon, was so overwhelmed with anguish that she was thrown into a fever. reason was dethroned, and she became a hopeless maniac. the husband died, being deprived of the succor his wife had attempted to obtain. the son of a rich merchant, passing rapidly in his sleigh, muffled in furs, did not perceive the carriage of the emperor which he met, until it had passed. the police seized him; his sleigh and horses were confiscated. he was placed in close confinement for a month, and then, after receiving fifty blows from the terrible knout, was delivered to his friends a mangled form, barely alive. a young lady, by some accident, had not thrown herself upon her knees quick enough at the appearance of the imperial carriage in the streets of moscow. she was an orphan and resided with an aunt. they were both imprisoned for a month and fed upon bread and water; the young lady for failing in respect to the emperor, and the aunt for not having better instructed her niece. how strange is this power of despotism, by which one madman compels forty millions of people to tremble before him! one of the freaks of this crazy prince was to court-martial his horse. the noble steed had tripped beneath his rider. a council was convened, composed of the equerries of the palace. the horse was proved guilty of failing in respect to his majesty, and was condemned to receive fifty blows from a heavy whip. paul stood by, as the sentence was executed, counting off the blows.[ ] [footnote : memoires secret, tome i., page .] twelve polish gentlemen were condemned, for being "wanting in respect to his majesty," to have their noses and ears cut off, and were then sent to perpetual siberian exile. when any one was admitted to an audience with the tzar, it was necessary for him to fall upon his knees so suddenly and heavily that his bones would ring upon the floor like the butt of a musket. no gentle genuflexion satisfied the tzar. a prince gallatin was imprisoned for "kneeling and kissing the emperor's hand too negligently." this contempt for humanity soon rendered paul very unpopular. he well knew that his legitimacy was doubted, and that if an illegitimate child he had no right whatever to the throne. he seemed to wish to prove that he was the son of peter iii. by imitating all the silly and cruel caprices of that most contemptible prince. the french revolution was now in progress, the crushed people of that kingdom endeavoring to throw off the yoke of intolerable oppression. all the despots in europe were alarmed lest popular liberty in france should undermine their thrones. none were more alarmed than paul. he was so fearful that democratic ideas might enter his kingdom that he forbade the introduction into his realms of any french journal or pamphlet. all frenchmen in his kingdom were also ordered immediately to depart. all ships arriving were searched and if any french subjects were on board, men or women, they were not permitted to land, but were immediately sent out of the kingdom. merchants, who had left their families and their business for a temporary absence, were not permitted again to set foot in the kingdom. the suffering which this cruel edict occasioned was very great. day after day new decrees were issued, of ever increasing violence. the tzar became suspicious of all strangers of whatever nation, and endeavored to rear a wall of separation around his whole kingdom which should exclude it from all intercourse with other parts of europe. the german universities were all declared to be tainted with superstition, and all russians were prohibited, under penalty of the confiscation of their estates, from sending their sons to those institutions. no foreigner, of whatever nation, was allowed to take part in any civil or ecclesiastical service. the young russians who were already in the german universities, were commanded immediately to return to their homes. apprehensive that knowledge itself, by whomsoever communicated, might make the people restless under their enormous wrongs, paul suppressed nearly all the schools which had been founded by catharine ii., reserving only a few to communicate instruction in the military art. all books, but those issued under the surveillance of the government, were interdicted. the greatest efforts were made to draw a broad line of distinction between the people and the nobles, and to place a barrier there which no plebeian could pass. some one informed paul that in france the revolutionists wore the chapeau, or three-cornered hat, with one of the corners in front. the tzar immediately issued a decree that in russia the hat should be worn with the corner behind. we have said that paul was bitterly hostile to all foreigners. the emigrants, however, who fled from france, with arms in their hands, imploring the courts of europe to crush republican liberty in france, he welcomed with the greatest cordiality and loaded with favors. the princes and nobles of the french court received from paul large pensions, while, at the same time, he ignobly made them feel that he was their master and they were his slaves. his dread of french liberty was so great, that with all his soul he entered into the wide-spread european coalition which the genius of pitt had organized against france, and which embraced even turkey. and now for the first time the spectacle was seen of the russian and turkish squadrons combining against a common foe. paul sent an army of one hundred thousand men to coöperate with the allies. republican france gathered up her energies to resist europe in arms. the young napoleon, heading a heroic band of half-famished soldiers, turned the alps and fell like a thunderbolt into the austrian camp upon the plains of italy. in a series of victories which astounded the world he swept the foe before him, and compelled the austrians to sue for peace. the embassadors of france and germany met at rastadt, in congress, and after spending many months in negotiations, the congress was dissolved by the emperor of germany, in april, . the french embassadors set out to return, and were less than a quarter of a mile from the city, when a troop of austrian hussars fell upon them, and two of their number, roberjeot and bonnier, were treacherously assassinated. the third, delry, though left for dead, revived so far as to be able, covered with wounds and blood, to crawl back to rastadt.[ ] [footnote : "our plenipotentiaries were massacred at rastadt, and notwithstanding the indignation expressed by all france at that atrocity, vengeance was still very tardy in overtaking the assassins. the two councils were the first to render a melancholy tribute of honor to the victims. who that saw that ceremony ever forgot its solemnity? who can recollect without emotion the religious silence which reigned throughout the hall and galleries when the vote was put? the president then turned towards the curule chairs of the victims, on which lay the official costume of the assassinated representatives, covered with black crape, bent over them, pronounced the names of roberjeot and bonnier, and added, in a voice, the tone of which was always thrilling, _assassinated at the congress of rastadt_. immediately all the representatives responded, _may their blood be upon the heads of their murderers_."--_duchess of abrantes_, p. .] napoleon was at this time in egypt, endeavoring to assail england, the most formidable foe of france, in india, the only vulnerable point which could be reached. fifty thousand russians, in a single band, were marching through germany to coöperate with the austrians on the french frontiers. the more polished germans were astonished at the barbaric character of their allies. a russian officer, in a freak of passion, shot an austrian postilion, and then took out his purse and enquired of the employer of the postilion what damage was to be paid, as coolly as if he had merely killed a horse or a cow. even german law was compelled to wink at such outrages, for an ally so essential as russia it was needful to conciliate at all hazards. paul deemed himself the most illustrious monarch of europe, and resolved that none but a russian general should lead the allied armies. the germans, on the contrary, regarded the russians as barbarians of wolfish courage and gigantic strength, but far too ignorant of military science to be entrusted with the plan of a campaign. after much contention the emperor of austria was compelled to yield, and an old russian general, suwarrow, was placed in command of the armies of the two most powerful empires then on the globe. and who was suwarrow? behold his portrait. born in a village of the ukraine, the boy was sent by his father, an army officer, to the military academy at st. petersburg, whence he entered the army as a common soldier, and ever after, for more than sixty years, he lived in incessant battles in sweden, turkey, poland. in the storm of ismael, forty thousand men, women and, children fell in indiscriminate massacre at his command. in the campaign which resulted in the partition of poland, twenty thousand poles were cut down by his dragoons. a stranger to fear, grossly illiterate, and with no human sympathies, he appears on the arena but as a thunderbolt of war. next to the emperor paul, he was perhaps the most fantastic man on the continent. in a war with the turks he killed a large number with his own hands, and brought, on his shoulders, a sackful of heads, which he rolled out at the feet of his general. this was the commencement of his reputation.[ ] his whole military career was in accordance with this act. he had but one passion, love of war. he would often, even in mid-winter, have one or two pailsful of cold water poured upon him, as he rose from his bed, and then, in his shirt, leap upon an unsaddled horse and scour the camp with the speed of the wind. sometimes he would appear, in the early morning, at the door of his tent, stark naked, and crow like a cock. this was a signal for the tented host to spring to arms. occasionally he would visit the hospital, pretending that he was a physician, and would prescribe medicine for those whom he thought sick, and scourgings for those whom he imagined to be feigning sickness. sometimes he would turn all the patients out of the doors, sick and well, saying that it was not permitted for the soldiers of suwarrow to be sick. he was as merciless to himself as he was to his soldiers. hunger, cold, fatigue, seemed to him to be pleasures. hardships which to many would render life a scene of insupportable torture, were to him joys. he usually traveled in a coarse cart, which he made his home, sleeping in it at night, with but the slightest protection from the weather. whenever he lodged in a house, his _aides_ took the precaution to remove the windows from his room, as he would otherwise inevitably smash every glass. [footnote : histoire philosophique et politique de russie. tome cinquième, p. .] notwithstanding this ostentatious display of his hatred of all luxury, he was excessively fond of diamonds and other precious stones. he was also exceedingly superstitious, ever falling upon his knees before whatever priest he might meet, and imploring his benediction. such men generally feel that the observance of ceremonial rites absolves them from the guilt of social crimes. with these democratic manners suwarrow utterly detested liberty. the french, as the most liberty-loving people of europe, he abhorred above all others. he foamed with rage when he spoke of them. in the sham fights with which he frequently exercised the army, when he gave the order to "_charge the miserable french_," every soldier was to make two thrusts of the bayonet in advance, as if twice to pierce the heart of the foe, and a third thrust into the ground, that the man, twice bayoneted, might be pinned in death to the earth. such was the general whom paul sent "to destroy the impious government," as he expressed it, "which dominated over france." with blind confidence suwarrow marched down upon the plains of lombardy, dreaming that in those fertile realms nothing awaited him but an easy triumph over those who had been guilty of the crime of abolishing despotism. the french had heard appalling rumors of the prowess and ferocity of these warriors of the north, and awaited the shock with no little solicitude.[ ] the two armies met on the banks of the adda, which flows into the northern part of the lake of como. suwarrow led sixty thousand russians and austrians. the french general, moreau, to oppose them, had the wreck of an army, consisting of twenty-five thousand men, disheartened by defeat. on the th of april, , the first russian regiment appeared in sight of the bridge of lecco. the french, indignant at the interference of the russians in a quarrel with which they had no concern, dashed upon them with their bayonets, and repulsed them with great carnage. but the hosts of russia and austria came pouring on in such overwhelming numbers, that moreau, with his forces reduced to twenty thousand men, was compelled to retreat before an army which could concentrate ninety thousand troops in line of battle. pressed by the enemy, he retreated through milan to turin. suwarrow tarried in milan to enjoy a triumph accorded to him by the priests and the nobles, the creatures of austria. [footnote : "suwarrow was a genuine barbarian, fortunately incapable of calculating the employment of his forces, otherwise the republic might perhaps have succumbed. his army was like himself. it had a bravery that was extraordinary and bordered on fanaticism, but no instruction. it was expert only at the use of the bayonet. suwarrow, extremely insolent to the allies, gave russian officers to the austrians to teach them the use of the bayonet. fortunately his brutal energy, after doing a great deal of mischief, had to encounter the energy of skill and calculation, and was foiled by the latter."--_thiers' history french revolution_, vol. iv., p. .] moreau entrenched himself at alexandria, awaiting the arrival of general macdonald with reinforcements. suwarrow approached with an army now exceeding one hundred thousand men. again moreau was compelled to retreat, pursued by suwarrow, and took refuge on the crest of the apennines, in the vicinity of genoa. by immense exertions he had assembled forty thousand men. suwarrow came thundering upon him with sixty thousand. the french army was formed in a semicircle on the slopes of the monte rotundo, about twenty miles north of genoa. the austro-russian army spread over the whole plain below. at five o'clock in the morning of the th of august, , the fierce battle of novi commenced. suwarrow, a fierce fighter, but totally unacquainted with the science of strategy, in characteristic words gave the order of battle. "kray," said he, "will attack the left--the russians the center--melas the right." to the soldiers he said, "god wills, the emperor orders, suwarrow commands, that to-morrow the enemy be conquered." dressed in his usual costume, in his shirt down to the waist, he led his troops into battle. enormous slaughter ensued; numbers prevailing against science, and the french, driven out of italy, took refuge along the ridges of the apennines. suwarrow, satisfied with his dearly-bought victory, for he had lost ten thousand men in the conflict, did not venture to pursue the retiring foe, but with his bleeding and exhausted army fell back to coni; and thence established garrisons throughout piedmont and lombardy. paul was almost delirious with joy at this great victory. he issued a decree declaring suwarrow to be the greatest general "of all times, of all peoples and of all quarters of the globe." in his pride he declared that republican france, for the crime of rebelling against legitimate authority, should receive punishment which should warn all nations against following her example. the russian squadron combined with that of the turks, formed a junction with the victorious fleet of nelson, and sailing from the bay of aboukir, swept the french fleet from the mediterranean. the austrians and russians, thus victorious, now marched to assail massena at zurich on the rhine, intending there to cross the stream and invade france. for a month, in september and october, , there was a series of incessant battles. but the republican armies were triumphant. the banners of france struggled proudly through many scenes of blood and woe, and the shores of lake zurich and the fastnesses of the alps, were strewed with the dead bodies of the russians. in fourteen days twenty thousand russians and six thousand austrians were slain. suwarrow, the intrepid barbarian, with but ten thousand men saved from his proud army, retreated overwhelmed with confusion and rage. republican france was saved. the rage which suwarrow displayed is represented as truly maniacal. he foamed at the mouth and roared like a bull. as a wounded lion turns upon his pursuers, from time to time he stopped in his retreat, and rushed back upon the foe. he was crushed in body and mind by this defeat. having wearied himself in denouncing, in unmeasured terms, all his generals and soldiers, he became taciturn and moody. secluding himself from his fellow-men he courted solitude, and surrendered himself to a fantastic and superstitious devotion. enveloped in a cloak, and with his eyes fixed upon the ground, he would occasionally pass through the camp, condescending to notice no one. paul had also sent an army into holland, against france, which had been utterly repulsed by general brune, with the loss of many slain and taken prisoners. the tidings of these disasters roused, in the bosom of paul, fury equal to that which suwarrow had displayed. he bitterly cursed his allies, england and austria, declaring that they, in the pursuit of their own selfish interests, had abandoned his armies to destruction. suwarrow, deprived of further command, and overwhelmed with disgrace, retired to one of his rural retreats where he soon died of chagrin. the austrian and english embassadors at the court of st. petersburg, paul loaded with reproaches and even with insults. his conduct became so whimsical as to lead many to suppose that he was actually insane. he had long hated the french republicans, but now, with a new and a fresher fury, he hated the allies. the wrecks of his armies were ordered to return to russia, and he ceased to take an active part in the prosecution of the war, without however professing, in any way, to withdraw from the coalition. neither the austrian nor the english embassador could obtain an audience with the emperor. he treated them with utter neglect, and, the court following the example of the sovereign, these embassadors were left in perfect solitude. they could not even secure an audience with any of the ministry. paul had been very justly called the don quixote of the coalition, and the other powers were now not a little apprehensive of the course he might adopt, for madman as he was, he was the powerful monarch of some forty millions of people. soon he ordered the russian fleet, which in coöperation with the squadrons of the allies was blockading malta, to withdraw from the conflict. then he recalled his ministers from london and vienna, declaring that neither england nor austria was contending for any principle, but that they were fighting merely for their own selfish interests. england had already openly declared her intention of appropriating malta to herself. napoleon had now returned from egypt and had been invested with the supreme power in france as first consul. there were many french prisoners in the hands of the allies. france had also ten thousand russian prisoners. napoleon proposed an exchange. both england and austria refused to exchange french prisoners for russians. "what," exclaimed napoleon, "do you refuse to liberate the russians, who were your allies, who were fighting in your ranks and under your commanders? do you refuse to restore to their country those men to whom you are indebted for your victories and conquests in italy, and who have left in your hands a multitude of french prisoners whom they have taken? such injustice excites my indignation." with characteristic magnanimity he added, "i will restore them to the tzar without exchange. he shall see how i esteem brave men." these russian prisoners were assembled at aix la chapelle. they were all furnished with a complete suit of new clothing, in the uniform of their own regiments, and were thoroughly supplied with weapons of the best french manufacture. and thus they were returned to their homes. paul was exactly in that mood of mind which best enabled him to appreciate such a deed. he at once abandoned the alliance, and with his own hand wrote to napoleon as follows: "citizen first consul,--i do not write to you to discuss the rights of men or of citizens. every country governs itself as it pleases. whenever i see, at the head of a nation, a man who knows how to rule and how to fight, my heart is attracted towards him. i write to acquaint you with my dissatisfaction with england, who violates every article of the law of nations and has no guide but her egotism and her interest. i wish to unite with you to put an end to the unjust proceedings of that government." friendly relations were immediately established between france and russia, and they exchanged embassadors. paul had conferred an annual pension of two hundred thousand rubles (about $ , ) upon the count of provence, subsequently louis xviii., and had given him an asylum at mittau. he now withdrew that pension and protection. he induced the king of denmark to forbid the english fleet from passing the sound, which led into the baltic sea, engaging, should the english attempt to force the passage, to send a fleet of twenty-one ships to assist the danes. the battle of hohenlinden and the peace of luneville detached austria from the coalition, and england was left to struggle alone against the new opinions in france. the nobles of russia, harmonizing with the aristocracy of europe, were quite dissatisfied with this alliance between russia and france. though the form of the republic was changed to that of the consulate, they saw that the principles of popular liberty remained unchanged in france. the wife of paul and her children, victims of the inexplicable caprice of the tzar, lived in constant constraint and fear. the empress had three sons--alexander, constantine and nicholas. the heir apparent, alexander, was watched with the most rigorous scrutiny, and was exposed to a thousand mortifications. the suspicious father became the jailer of his son, examining all his correspondence, and superintending his mode of life in its minutest details. the most whimsical and annoying orders were issued, which rendered life, in the vicinity of the court, almost a burden. the army officers were forbidden to attend evening parties lest they should be too weary for morning parade. every one who passed the imperial palace, even in the most inclement weather, was compelled to go with head uncovered. the enforcement of his arbitrary measures rendered the intervention of the troops often necessary. the palace was so fortified and guarded as to resemble a prison. st. petersburg, filled with the machinery of war, presented the aspect of a city besieged. every one was exposed to arrest. no one was sure of passing the night in tranquillity, there were so many domiciliary visits; and many persons, silently arrested, disappeared without it ever being known what became of them. spies moved about everywhere, and their number was infinite. paul thus enlisted against himself the animosity of all classes of his subjects--his own family, foreigners, the court, the nobles and the bourgeois. such were the influences which originated the conspiracy which resulted in the assassination of the tzar. chapter xxix. assassination of paul and accession of alexander. from to . assassination of paul i.--implication of alexander in the conspiracy.--anecdotes.--accession of alexander.--the french revolution.--alexander joins allies against france.--state of russia.--useful measures of alexander.--peace of amiens.--renewal of hostilities.--battle of austerlitz.--magnanimity of napoleon.--new coalition.--ambition of alexander.--battles of jena and eylau.--defeat of the russians. we have before mentioned that paul i. had three sons--alexander, constantine and nicholas. the eldest of these, alexander, was a very promising young man, of popular character, twenty-three years of age. his father feared his popularity and treated him with the greatest severity, and was now threatening him and his mother with imprisonment. general pahlen, governor of st. petersburg, obtained the confidence of the young prince, and urged upon him, as a necessary measure of self-defense, that he should place himself at the head of a conspiracy for the dethronement of his insane father. the sufferings of the young prince were so severe and his perils so great, and the desire for a change so universal throughout the empire, that it was not found difficult to enlist him in the enterprise. alexander consented to the dethronement of his father, but with the express condition that his life should be spared. he might perhaps have flattered himself with the belief that this could be done; but the conspirators knew full well that the dagger of the assassin was the only instrument which could remove paul from the throne. the conspiracy was very extensive, embracing nearly all the functionaries of the government at st. petersburg, the entire senate, and the diplomatic corps. all the principal officers of the royal guard, with their colonel at their head, were included in the plot. the hour for the execution of the conspiracy was fixed for the night of the d of march, . a regiment devoted to the conspirators was that night on guard at the palace. the confederates who were to execute the plot, composed of the most distinguished men in the court and the army, met at the house of prince talitzin ostensibly for a supper. with wine and wassail they nerved themselves for the desperate deed. just at midnight a select number entered the garden of the palace, by a private gate, and stealing silently along, beneath the trees, approached a portal which was left unbarred and undefended. one of the guardians of the palace led their steps and conducted them to an apartment adjoining that in which the tzar slept. a single hussar guarded the door. he was instantly struck down, and the conspirators in a body rushed into the royal chamber. paul sprang from his bed, and seizing his sword, endeavored to escape by another door than that through which the conspirators entered. foiled in this attempt, in the darkness, for all lights had been extinguished, he hid himself behind a movable screen. he was however soon seized, lights were brought in, and an act of abdication was read to him which he was required to sign. the intrepid tzar sprang at zoubow, who was reading the act, and cuffed his ears. a struggle immediately ensued, and an officer's sash was passed around the neck of the monarch, and after a desperate resistance he was strangled. the dress of one of the conspirators caused him to be mistaken, by the emperor, for his son constantine, and the last words which the wretched sovereign uttered were, "and you too, constantine." the two grand dukes, alexander and constantine, were in the room below, and heard all the noise of the struggle in which their father was assassinated. it was with much difficulty that these young princes were induced to give their consent to the conspiracy, and they yielded only on condition that their father's life should be spared. but self-defense required some vigorous action on their part, for paul had threatened to send alexander to siberia, to immure constantine in a convent, and the empress mother in a cloister. the conspirators having accomplished the deed, descended into the apartment, where the grand dukes were awaiting their return. alexander enquired eagerly if they had saved his father's life. the silence of the conspirators told the melancholy tale. the grief manifested by both alexander and constantine was apparently sincere and intense. in passionate exclamations they gave vent to sorrow and remorse. but pahlen, the governor, who had led the conspiracy, calm and collected, represented that the interests of the empire demanded a change of policy, that the death of paul was a fatality, and that nothing now remained but for alexander to assume the reins of government. "i shall be accused," exclaimed alexander bitterly, "of being the assassin of my father. you promised me not to attempt his life. i am the most unhappy man in the world." the dead body of the emperor was placed upon a table, and an english physician, named wylie, was called in to arrange the features so that it should appear that he had died of apoplexy. the judgment of the world has ever been and probably ever will be divided respecting the nature of alexander's complicity in this murder. many suppose that he could not have been ignorant that the death of his father was the inevitable end of the conspiracy, and that he accepted that result as a sad necessity. certain it is that the conspirators were all rewarded richly, by being entrusted with the chief offices of the state; and the new monarch surrounded his throne with counselors whose hands were imbrued in his father's blood. a lady at st. petersburg wrote to fouché on the occasion of some ceremony which soon ensued, "the young emperor walked preceded by the assassins of his grandfather, followed by those of his father, and surrounded by his own." "behold," said fouché, "a woman who speaks tacitus." at st. helena, o'meara enquired of napoleon if he thought that paul had been insane. "latterly," napoleon replied, "i believe that he was. at first he was strongly prejudiced against the revolution, and every person concerned in it; but afterwards i had rendered him reasonable, and had changed his opinions altogether. if paul had lived the english would have lost india before now. an agreement was made between paul and myself to invade it. i furnished the plan. i was to have sent thirty thousand good troops. he was to send a similar number of the best russian soldiers, and forty thousand cossacks. i was to subscribe ten millions for the purchase of camels and other requisites for crossing the desert. the king of prussia was to have been applied to by both of us to grant a passage for my troops through his dominions, which would have been immediately granted. i had, at the same time, made a demand to the king of persia for a passage through his country, which would also have been granted, although the negotiations were not entirely concluded, but would have succeeded, as the persians were desirous of profiting by it themselves."[ ] [footnote : "napoleon at st. helena," p. .] on another occasion, speaking upon this same subject, napoleon said to las casas, "paul had been promised malta the moment it was taken possession of by the english. malta reduced, the english ministers denied that they had promised it to him. it is confidently stated that, on the reading of this shameful falsehood, paul felt so indignant that, seizing the dispatch in full council, he ran his sword through it, and ordered it to be sent back, in that condition, by way of answer. if this be a folly, it must be allowed that it is the folly of a noble soul. it is the indignation of virtue, which was incapable until then of suspecting such baseness. "at the same time the english ministers, treating with us for the exchange of prisoners, refused to include the russian prisoners taken in holland, who were in the actual service and fought for the sole cause of the english. i had hit upon the bent of paul's character. i seized time by the forelock. i collected these russians. i clothed them and sent them back without any expense. from that instant that generous heart was altogether devoted to me, and, as i had no interest in opposition to russia, and should never have spoken or acted but with justice, there is no doubt that i should have been enabled, for the future, to dispose of the cabinet of st. petersburg. our enemies were sensible of the danger, and it has been thought that this good-will of paul proved fatal to him, it might well have been the case, for there are cabinets with whom nothing is sacred." the death of paul brought the enemies of france and the friends of england into power at st. petersburg. the new emperor, the first day after his accession to the throne, issued a proclamation declaring his intention to follow in the footsteps of his grandmother, catharine. he liberated all the english sailors whom paul had taken from the ships laid under sequestration. all the decrees against the free importation of english merchandise were abolished; and the young emperor soon wrote, with his own hand, a letter to the king of england, expressing his earnest desire again to establish friendly relations between the courts of russia and england. this declaration was received in london with shouts of joy. alexander was twenty-three years of age when he ascended the throne. a swiss, by the name of laharpe, a man of great intelligence and lofty spirit, and a republican in principle, had been for many years the prominent tutor of the young prince, and had obtained a great control over his mind. the instructions of laharpe, who wished to make a washington of his pupil, were much counteracted by the despotic lessons he had received from catharine, and by the luxury, servility and corruption which crowded the russian court. naturally amiable, and possessed of by no means a strong character, the young monarch was easily moulded by the influences which surrounded him. he evidently commenced his reign with the best intentions, resolved, in every way, to promote the prosperity of his subjects. it is painful to observe the almost inevitable tendency of power to deprave the soul. history is filled with the records of those sovereigns who have fallen from virtue to vice. the commencement of the reign of alexander was hailed with general joy. all his first proclamations breathe the spirit of benevolence, of generosity, of the desire to ameliorate the condition of the oppressed millions. the ridiculous ordinances which paul had issued were promptly abrogated. by a special edict all russians were permitted to dress as they pleased, to wear twilled waistcoats and pantaloons, instead of short clothes, if they preferred them. they were permitted to wear round hats, to lead dogs with a leash, and to fasten their shoes with strings instead of buckles. a large number of exiles, whom paul had sent to siberia, were recalled, and many of the most burdensome requirements of etiquette, in the court, were annulled. though alexander was an absolute monarch, who could issue any decree, subject to no restraint, he conferred upon the senate the power to revise these decrees, and to suggest any amendment; and he also created a legislature who were permitted to advise respecting any regulations which they might think promotive of the interests of the empire. the will of the emperor was, however, absolute and unchecked. still the appointment of these deliberative and advising bodies was considered an immense stride towards constitutional freedom. the censorship of the press was greatly mitigated, and foreign books and journals were more freely introduced to the empire. two new ministries were established by alexander, with extensive responsibilities--the ministry of the interior, and that of public instruction. all the officers of government were rendered accountable to the senate, and responsible to the sovereign. these elements of accountability and of responsibility had hitherto been almost unknown in russia. charitable institutions were established, and schools of different grades, for the instruction of all classes of the people. ambitious of rendering the russian court as brilliant in all the appliances of luxury and art as any court in europe, the emperor was indefatigable in the collection of paintings, statuary, medals and all artistic curiosities. the contrast thus became very marked between the semi-barbarism of the provinces and the enlightenment and voluptuousness of the capital. it is worthy of remark that when alexander ascended the throne there did not exist in all russia, not even in st. petersburg, a single book-store.[ ] the russian sovereigns had wished to take from civilization only that which would add to their despotic power. desiring to perpetuate the monopoly of authority, they sought to retain in their own hands the privileges of instruction. the impulse which alexander had given to the cause of education spread throughout the empire, and the nobles, in the distant provinces, interested themselves in establishing schools. these schools were, however, very exclusive in their character, admitting none but the children of the nobles. the military schools which catharine had established, with so much care, alexander encouraged and supported with the utmost assiduity. [footnote : _histoire philosophique et politique de russie, depuis les temps les plus reculés jusqu'au nos jours. par j. esneaux et chenechot. tome cinquième, p. ._] as catharine ii. had endeavored to obliterate every trace of the government of her murdered husband, peter iii., so alexander strove to efface all vestiges of his assassinated father, paul. he entered into the closest alliance with england, and manifested much eagerness in his desire to gratify all the wishes of the cabinet of st. james. he even went so far as to consent to pay a sum of eight hundred thousand rubles ($ , ), as an indemnity to england for the loss the english merchants had incurred by the embargo placed by paul upon their ships. every day the partiality of the young emperor for england became more manifest. in the meantime napoleon was unwearied in his endeavors to secure the good-will of a monarch whose sword would have so important an influence in settling the quarrel between aristocracy and democracy which then agitated europe. napoleon was so far successful that, on the th of october, , a treaty of friendly alliance was signed at paris between france and russia. the battle of marengo had compelled austria to withdraw from the coalition against france; and the peace of luneville, which napoleon signed with austria in february, , followed by peace with spain and naples in march, with the pope in july, with bavaria in august and with portugal in september, left england to struggle alone against those republican principles which in the eyes of aristocratic europe seemed equally obnoxious whether moulded under the form of the republic, the consulate or the empire. the english cabinet, thus left to struggle alone, was compelled, though very reluctantly, by the murmurs of the british people, to consent to peace with france; and the treaty of amiens, which restored peace to entire europe, was signed in march, . a few days after this event, peace was signed with turkey, and thus through the sagacity and energy of napoleon, every hostile sword was sheathed in europe and on the confines of asia. but the treaty of amiens was a sore humiliation to the cabinet of st. james, and hardly a year had elapsed ere the british government, in may, , again drew the sword, and all europe was again involved in war. it was a war, said william pitt truly, "of armed opinions." the russian embassador at paris, m. marcow, who under catharine ii. had shown himself bitterly hostile to the french republic, was declared to be guilty of entering into intrigues to assist the english, now making war upon france, and he was ordered immediately to leave the kingdom. alexander did not resent this act, so obviously proper, but rewarded the dismissed minister with an annual pension of twelve thousand rubles ($ , ). during this short interval of peace alexander was raising an army of five hundred thousand men, to extend and consolidate his dominions on the side of turkey. his frontiers there were dimly defined, and his authority but feebly exerted. he pushed his armies into georgia and took firm possession of that vast province extending between the black sea and the caspian, and embracing some eighteen thousand square miles. at the same time the blasts of his bugles were heard reverberating through the defiles of the balkan, and his fortresses were reared and his banners planted there. the monarchs of russia, for many generations, had fixed a wistful eye upon constantinople, but no one had coveted the possession of that important city so intensely as now did alexander. "constantinople," said he often, "is the key of my house." the arrest of the duke d'enghien, in the territory of the duke of baden, and his execution as a traitor for being in arms against his own country, excited the indignation of alexander. napoleon, immediately after the arrest, had made an apology to the duke of baden for the violation of a neutral territory, and this apology was accepted by the duke as satisfactory. nevertheless, alexander through his embassador, sent the following message to the court of the first consul: "the emperor alexander, as mediator and guarantee of the continental peace, has notified the states of the german empire that he considers the action of the first consul as endangering their safety and independence, and that he does not doubt that the first consul will take prompt measures to reassure those governments by giving satisfactory explanations." napoleon regarded this interference of alexander as impertinent, and caused his minister to reply, "what would alexander have said if the first consul had imperiously demanded explanations respecting the murder of paul i., and had pretended to constitute himself an avenger? how is it, that when the sovereign of the territory, which it is said has been violated, makes no complaint; when all the princes, his neighbors and his allies, are silent--how is it that the emperor of russia, least of all interested in the affair, raises his voice alone? does it not arise from complicity with england, that machinator of conspiracies against the power and the life of the first consul? is not russia engaged in similar conspiracies at rome, at dresden and at paris? if russia desires war, why does she not frankly say so, instead of endeavoring to secure that end indirectly?" in may of , napoleon assumed the imperial title. alexander, denying the right of the people to elect their own sovereign, refused to recognize the empire. hence increasing irritation arose. england, trembling in view of the camp at boulogne, roused all her energies to rally europe to strike france in the rear. in this effort she was signally successful. russia, sweden, austria, turkey and rome, were engaged in vigorous coöperation with england against france. holland, switzerland and bavaria ranged themselves on the side of napoleon. on the th of september, , the armies of austria and russia were on the march for france, and the austrian troops, in overwhelming numbers, invaded bavaria. napoleon was prepared for the blow. the camp at boulogne was broken up, and his troops were instantly on the march towards the rhine. in the marvelous campaign of ulm the austrian army was crushed, almost annihilated, and the victorious battalions of napoleon marched resistlessly to vienna. alexander, with a vast army, was hurrying forward, by forced marches, to assist his austrian ally. at olmutz he met the emperor of austria on the retreat with thirty thousand men, the wreck of that magnificent army with which he had commenced his march upon france. here the two armies formed a junction--seventy thousand russians receiving into their ranks thirty thousand austrians. the two emperors, alexander and francis, rode at the head of this formidable force. on the st of december, napoleon, leading an army of seventy thousand men, encountered these, his combined foes, on the plains of austerlitz. "to-morrow," said he, "before nightfall, that army shall be mine!" a day of carnage, such as war has seldom seen, ensued. from an eminence the emperors of russia and austria witnessed the destruction of their hosts. no language can describe the tumult which pervaded the ranks of the retreating foe. the russians, wild with dismay, rent the skies with their barbaric shouts, and wreaked their vengeance upon all the helpless villages they encountered in their path. francis, the emperor of austria, utterly ruined, sought an interview with his conqueror, and implored peace. napoleon, as ever, was magnanimous, and was eager to sheathe the sword which he had only drawn in self-defense. francis endeavored to throw the blame of the war upon england. "the english," said he, "are a nation of merchants. to secure for themselves the commerce of the world they are willing to set the continent in flames!" the austrian monarch, having obtained very favorable terms for himself, interceded for alexander. "the russian army," napoleon replied, "is surrounded. not a man can escape me. if, however, your majesty will promise me that alexander shall immediately return to russia, i will stop the advance of my columns." the pledge was given, and napoleon then sent general savary to the head-quarters of alexander, to inquire if he would ratify the armistice. "i am happy to see you," said the emperor to the envoy. "the occasion has been very glorious for your arms. that day will take nothing from the reputation your master has earned in so many battles. it was my first engagement. i confess that the rapidity of his maneuvers gave me no time to succor the menaced points. everywhere you were at least double the number of our forces." "sire," savary replied, "our force was twenty-five thousand less than yours. and even of that the whole was not very warmly engaged. but we maneuvered much, and the same division combated at several different points. therein lies the art of war. the emperor, who has seen forty pitched battles, is never wanting in that particular. he is still ready to march against the archduke charles, if your majesty does not accept the armistice." "what guarantee does your master require," continued alexander, "and what security can i have that your troops will not prosecute their movements against me?" "he asks only your word of honor," savary replied. "he has instructed me the moment it is given to suspend the pursuit." "i give it with pleasure," rejoined the emperor, "and should it ever be your fortune to visit st. petersburg, i hope that i may be able to render my capital agreeable to you." hostilities immediately ceased, and the broken columns of the russian troops returned to their homes. the austro-russian army, in the disastrous day of austerlitz, lost in killed, wounded and prisoners, over forty thousand men. it is stated that alexander, when flying from the bloody field with his discomfited troops, his path being strewed with the wounded and the dead, posted placards along the route, with the inscription, "i commend my unfortunate soldiers to the generosity of the emperor napoleon!" alexander, young and ambitions, was very much chagrined by this utter discomfiture. austerlitz was his first battle; and instead of covering him with renown it had overwhelmed him with disgrace. he was anxious for an opportunity to wipe away the stain. a new coalition was soon formed against france, consisting of england, russia, prussia and sweden. alexander eagerly entered into this coalition, hoping for an opportunity to acquire that military fame which, in this lost world, has been ever deemed so essential to the reputation of a sovereign. the remonstrance of napoleon, with russia, was noble and unanswerable. "why," said he, "should hostilities arise between france and russia? perfectly independent of each other, they are impotent to inflict evil, but all-powerful to communicate benefits. if the emperor of france exercises a great influence in italy, the tzar exerts a still greater influence over turkey and persia. if the cabinet of russia pretends to have a right to affix limits to the power of france, without doubt it is equally disposed to allow the emperor of the french to prescribe the bounds beyond which russia is not to pass. russia has partitioned poland. can she then complain that france possesses belgium and the left banks of the rhine? russia has seized upon the crimea, the caucasus, and the northern provinces of persia. can she deny that the right of self-preservation gives france a right to demand an equivalent in europe? "let every power begin by restoring the conquests which it has made during the last fifty years. let them reëstablish poland, restore venice to its senate, trinidad to spain, ceylon to holland, the crimea to the porte, the caucasus and georgia to persia, the kingdom of mysore to the sons of tippoo saib, and the mahratta states to their lawful owners; and then the other powers may have some title to insist that france shall retire within her ancient limits. it is the fashion to speak of the ambition of france. had she chosen to preserve her conquests, the half of austria, the venetian states, the states of holland and switzerland and the kingdom of naples would have been in her possession. the limits of france are, in reality, the adige and the rhine. has it passed either of these limits? had it fixed on the solza and the drave, it would not have exceeded the bounds of its conquests." in september, , the prussian army, two hundred thousand strong, commenced their march for the invasion of france. alexander had also marshaled his barbarian legions and was eagerly following, with two hundred thousand of the most highly disciplined russian troops in his train. napoleon contemplated with sorrow the rising of this new storm of war and woe; but with characteristic vigor he prepared to meet it. as he left paris for the campaign, in a parting message to the senate he said, "in so just a war, which we have not provoked by any act, by any pretense, the true cause of which it would be impossible to assign, and where we only take arms to defend ourselves, we depend entirely upon the support of the laws, and upon that of the people whom circumstances call upon to give fresh proofs of their devotion and courage." in the battle of jena, which took place on the th of october, the prussian army was nearly annihilated, leaving in a few hours more than forty thousand men in killed, wounded and prisoners. in less than a month the conquest of entire prussia was achieved, and napoleon was pursuing frederic william, who, with the wreck of the prussian army was hastening to take refuge in the bosom of the russian hosts which were approaching. december had now come with its icy blasts, and napoleon, leading his victorious troops to the banks of the vistula, more than a thousand miles from france, established them in winter quarters, waiting until spring for the renewal of the campaign. alexander, terrified by the destruction of his prussian allies, halted his troops upon the other side of the vistula, and from his vast realms collected recruits. for a few weeks the storms of winter secured a tacit armistice. in february, , alexander assumed the offensive and endeavored to surprise napoleon in his encampment. but napoleon was on the alert. a series of terrific battles ensued, in which the french were invariably the victors. the retreating russians, hotly pursued, at last rallied on the field of eylau. napoleon had already driven them two hundred and forty miles from his encampment on the vistula. "it was the th of february, . the night was dark and intensely cold as the russians, exhausted by the retreat of the day, took their positions for the desperate battle of the morrow. there was a gentle swell of land extending two or three miles, which skirted a vast, bleak, unsheltered plain, over which the wintry gale drifted the snow. upon this ridge the russians in double lines formed themselves in battle array. five hundred pieces of cannon were ranged in battery, to hurl destruction into the bosoms of their foes. they then threw themselves upon the icy ground for their frigid bivouac. a fierce storm had already risen, which spread over the sleeping host its mantle of snow." napoleon came also upon the field, in the darkness of the night and of the storm, and placed his army in position for the battle which the dawn would usher in. two hundred pieces of artillery were planted to reply to the russian batteries. there were eighty thousand russians on the ridge, sixty thousand frenchmen on the plain, and separated by a distance of less than half a cannon shot. the sentinels of either army could almost touch each other with their muskets. the morning had not yet dawned when the cannonade commenced. the earth shook beneath its roar. a storm of snow at the same time swept over the plain blinding and smothering assailants and assailed. the smoke of the battle blended with the storm had spread over the contending hosts a sulphurous canopy black as midnight. even the flash of the guns could hardly be discerned through the gloom. all the day long, and until ten o'clock at night, the battle raged with undiminished fury. one half of the russian army was now destroyed, and the remainder, unable longer to endure the conflict, sullenly retreated. napoleon remained master of the field, which exhibited such a scene of misery as had never before met even his eye. when congratulated upon his victory by one of his officers he replied sadly, "to a father who loses his children, victory has no charms. when the heart speaks, glory itself is an illusion." chapter xxx. reign of alexander i. from to . the field of eylau.--letter to the king of prussia.--renewal of the war--discomfiture of the allies.--battle of friedland.--the raft at tilsit.--intimacy of the emperors.--alexander's designs upon turkey.--alliance between france and russia.--object of the continental system.--perplexities of alexander.--driven by the nobles to war.--results of the russian campaign.--napoleon vanquished.--last days of alexander.--his sickness and death. from the field of eylau, the russians and prussians retreated to the niemen. napoleon remained some days upon the field to nurse the wounded, and, anxious for peace, wrote to the king of prussia in the following terms: "i desire to put a period to the misfortunes of your family, and to organize, as speedily as possible, the prussian monarchy. i desire peace with russia, and, provided that the cabinet of st. petersburg has no designs upon the turkish empire, i see no difficulty in obtaining it. i have no hesitation in sending a minister to memil to take part in a congress of france, england, sweden, russia, prussia and turkey. but as such a congress may last many years, which would not suit the present condition of prussia, your majesty will, i am persuaded, be of the opinion that i have taken the simplest method, and one which is most likely to secure the prosperity of your subjects. at all events i entreat your majesty to believe in my sincere desire to reëstablish amicable relations with so friendly a power as prussia, and that i wish to do the same with russia and england." these advances were haughtily rejected by both prussia and russia; and napoleon returned to the vistula to wait until the opening of spring, when the question was again to be referred to the arbitrament of battle. both parties made vigorous preparations for the strife. alexander succeeded in gathering around him one hundred and forty thousand soldiers. but napoleon had assembled one hundred and sixty thousand whom he could rapidly concentrate upon any point between the vistula and the niemen. in june the storm of war commenced with an assault by the allies. field after field was red with blood as the hosts of france drove their vanquished foes before them. on the th of june, alexander, with frederic william riding by his side, had concentrated ninety thousand men upon the plains of friedland, on the banks of the aller. here the russians were compelled to make a final stand and await a decisive conflict. as napoleon rode upon a height and surveyed his foes, caught in an elbow of the river, he said energetically, "we have not a moment to lose. one does not twice catch an enemy in such a trap." he immediately communicated to his aides his plan of attack. grasping the arm of ney, he pointed to the dense masses of the russians clustered before the town of friedland, and said, "yonder is the goal. march to it without looking about you. break into that thick mass whatever it costs. enter friedland; take the bridges and give yourself no concern about what may happen on your right, your left or your rear. the army and i shall be there to attend to that." the whole french line now simultaneously advanced. it was one of the most sublime and awful of the spectacles of war. for a few hours there was the gleam and the roar of war's most terrific tempest and the russian army was destroyed. a frightful spectacle of ruin was exhibited. the shattered bands rushed in dismay into the stream, where thousands were swept away by the current, while a storm of bullets from the french batteries swept the river, and the water ran red with blood. it was in vain for alexander to make any further assaults. in ten days napoleon had taken one hundred and twenty pieces of cannon, and had killed, wounded or taken prisoners, sixty thousand russians. alexander now implored peace. it was all that napoleon desired. the niemen alone now separated the victorious french and the routed russians. a raft was moored in the middle of the stream upon which a tent was erected with magnificent decorations, and here the two young emperors met to arrange the terms of peace. alexander, like francis of austria, endeavored to throw the blame of the war upon england. almost his first words to napoleon were, "i hate the english as much as you do. i am ready to second you in all your enterprises against them." "in that case," napoleon replied, "every thing will be easily arranged and peace is already made." the interview lasted two hours, and alexander was fascinated by the genius of napoleon. "never," he afterwards said, "did i love any man as i loved that man." alexander was then but thirty years of age, and apparently he became inspired with an enthusiastic admiration of napoleon which had never been surpassed. at the close of the interview, he crossed to the french side of the river, and took up his residence with napoleon at tilsit. every day they rode side by side, dined together, and passed almost every hour in confiding conversation. it was napoleon's great object to withdraw alexander from the english alliance. in these long interviews the fate of turkey was a continual topic of conversation. alexander was ready to make almost any concession if napoleon would consent that russia should take constantinople. but napoleon was irreconcilably opposed to this. it was investing russia with too formidable power. he was willing that the emperor should take the provinces on the danube, but could not consent that he should pass the balkan and annex the proud city of constantine to his realms. one day when the two emperors were closeted together with the map of europe spread out before them, napoleon placed his finger upon constantinople, and was overheard by meneval to say, with great earnestness, "constantinople! never! it is the empire of the world." "all the emperor alexander's thoughts," said napoleon at st. helena, "are directed to the conquest of turkey. we have had many discussions about it. at first i was pleased with his proposals, because i thought it would enlighten the world to drive these brutes out of egypt. but when i reflected upon its consequences and saw what a tremendous weight of power it would give to russia, on account of the number of greeks in the turkish dominions who would naturally join the russians, i refused to consent to it, especially as alexander wanted to get constantinople, which i would not allow, as it would destroy the equilibrium of power in europe." for three weeks the emperors remained together at tilsit, and then they separated devoted friends. turkey had for some time been disposed to regard france as its protector against the encroachments of russia, and was disposed to enter into friendly alliance. by the treaty of tilsit, russia consented to make peace with turkey, and also to exert all her influence to promote peace between france and england. the efforts of alexander not being successful in this respect, he broke off his connection with great britain, and became still more intimately allied with france. the british ambassador, lord gower, was informed that his presence was no longer desired at st. petersburg. the second bombardment of copenhagen, and the seizure of the danish fleet gave occasion for alexander to declare war against england. the war, however, which ensued between the two countries, amounted chiefly to a cessation of trade. england, protected by her fleet, was invulnerable; and napoleon and alexander both agreed that the only possible way of compelling england to assent to peace, was to shut her out from commerce with the rest of europe. this was the origin of the famous continental system, by which it was endeavored to force the belligerent islanders to peace by cutting off their trade. alexander called upon sweden to unite in this confederacy against england. the swedes declined. alexander overran the whole of finland with his troops, and in it was permanently annexed to the russian empire. just before this event, in september, , napoleon and alexander held another interview at erfurth. the loss of british commerce was almost as great a calamity to russia as to england, and the russian people murmured loudly. england wished to arrest the progress of democratic ideas in france by restoring the rejected bourbons to the throne. in these views the nobles of russia sympathized cordially, and they were exasperated that alexander should allow personal friendship for napoleon to interfere with the commerce of their country, and with the maintenance of aristocratic privilege in europe. the russian nobles had nothing to gain by the establishment of free institutions in france, and the discontent with the measures of alexander became so general and so loudly expressed that he began to waver. the only hope of napoleon was in combining europe in a league which should starve england into peace. he watched the vacillating spirit of alexander with alarm, and arranged the interview at erfurth that he might strengthen him in his friendly purposes. alexander was by the most solemn pledges bound to be faithful to this alliance. he had attacked napoleon and had been conquered; and the southern provinces of russia were at the mercy of the conqueror. under these circumstances the treaty of tilsit was made, in which alexander, in consideration of benefits received, agreed to coöperate with napoleon in that continental system which seemed vital to the safety of france. napoleon was well aware of the immense pressure which was brought to bear upon the mind of the russian tzar to induce him to swerve from his agreement. hence the conference at erfurth. during the deliberations at erfurth it appears that alexander consented that napoleon should place the crown of spain upon the brow of his brother joseph, in consideration of napoleon consenting that russia should take possession of the two turkish provinces of moldavia and wallachia. and again the most strenuous efforts were made by the united emperors to induce inflexible england to sheathe the sword. all the nations on the continent were at peace. england alone was prosecuting the war. but the english aristocracy felt that they could not remain firm in their possessions while principles of democratic freedom were dominant in france. the fundamental principle of the government of the empire was honor to _merit_, not to _birth_. the two emperors wrote as follows to the king of england, imploring peace: "sire--the present situation of europe has brought us together at erfurth. our first wish is to fulfill the desire of all nations, and, by a speedy pacification with your majesty to take the most effectual means of relieving the sufferings of europe. the long and bloody war which has convulsed the continent is at an end, and can not be renewed. many changes have taken place in europe; many governments have been destroyed. the cause is to be found in the uneasiness and the sufferings occasioned by the stagnation of maritime commerce. greater changes still may take place, and all will be unfavorable to the politics of england. peace, therefore, is at the same time the common cause of the nations of the continent and of great britain. we unite in requesting your majesty to lend an ear to the voice of humanity, to suppress that of the passions, to reconcile contending interests, and to secure the welfare of europe and of the generations over which providence has placed us." the only notice taken of this letter was in a communication to the ministers of france and russia, in which it was stated that the "english ministers could not reply to the two sovereigns, since one of them was not recognized by england." a new coalition was soon formed, and austria commenced another march upon france, which led to the campaign of wagram, in which austria was humbled as never before. austria was now compelled, in conjunction with france and russia, and most of the other european powers, to take part in the continental blockade. alexander, shackled by his nobles, had not been able to render napoleon the assistance he had promised in this war. loud murmurs and threats of assassination were rising around him, and instead of rigorously enforcing the exclusion of english goods, he allowed them to be smuggled into the country. this was ruinous to napoleon's system. remonstrances and recriminations ensued. at length english goods were freely introduced, provided they entered under american colors. napoleon, to put a stop to this smuggling, which the local authorities pretended they could not prevent, seized several of the principal ports of northern germany, and incorporated the possessions of the duke of oldenburg, a near relative of alexander, with france.[ ] [footnote : colonel napier, in his "peninsular war," very justly observes, "the real principle of napoleon's government, and secret of his popularity, made him the people's monarch, not the sovereign of the aristocracy. hence mr. pitt called him 'the child and the champion of democracy,' a truth as evident as that mr. pitt and his successors 'were the children and the champions of aristocracy.' hence also the _privileged_ classes of europe consistently turned their natural and implacable hatred of the french revolution to his person; for they saw that in him innovation had found a protector; that he alone, having given preëminence to a system so hateful to them, was really what he called himself, _the state_. the treaty of tilsit, therefore, although it placed napoleon in a commanding situation with regard to the potentates of europe, unmasked the real nature of the war, and brought him and england, the respective champions of equality and privilege, into more direct contact. peace could not be between them while they were both strong, and all that the french emperor had hitherto gained only enabled him to choose his field of battle."] these measures increased the alienation between france and austria. in the mean time alexander was waging war with turkey, and was pushing his conquests rapidly on towards the city of constantine. these encroachments france contemplated with alarm. by the peace of bucharest, signed may th, , the whole of bessarabia was annexed to russia, and the limits of the empire were extended from the dnieper to the pruth. the russian nobles were all eager to join the european aristocracy in a war against democratic france, and it was now evident that soon a collision must take place between the cabinet of the tuileries and that of st. petersburg. it was almost impossible for alexander to resist the pressure which urged him to open his ports to the english. the closing of those ports was napoleon's only hope of compelling england to sheathe the sword. hence war became a fatality. russia, in anticipation of a rupture, began to arm, and ordered a levy of four men out of every hundred. in preparation for war she made peace with persia and turkey, and entered into an alliance with sweden. england was highly gratified by this change, and was soon on most friendly terms with the russian cabinet. a treaty was speedily formed by england, with both russia and sweden, by which these latter powers agreed to open their ports for free commercial relations with england, and they entered into an alliance offensive and defensive with that power. as england was still in arms against france, this was virtually a declaration of war. this violation also of the treaty of tilsit was the utter ruin of napoleon's plans. to compel russia to return to the continental system, napoleon prepared for that russian campaign which is one of the most awful tragedies of history. the world is so full of the narratives of that sublime drama, that the story need not be repeated here. it is just to say that napoleon exhausted all the arts of diplomacy to accomplish his purpose before he put his armies in motion. the emperor alexander followed the french in their retreat from moscow, and with all the powers of europe allied, crossed the rhine, and on the st of march, , at the head of an allied army of half a million of men entered paris a conqueror. his sympathies were warmly enlisted in behalf of his fallen friend napoleon. in the negotiations which ensued he exerted himself strongly in his favor. it was only by assuming the most energetic attitude against england, austria and prussia, that he succeeded in obtaining for napoleon the sovereignty of elba. alexander was very magnanimous, but his voice was lost in the clamor of the sovereigns who surrounded him. napoleon retired to elba. the bourbons reascended the throne of france. alexander, with the king of prussia, visited england, where he was received with great distinction. returning to russia he devoted himself to the welfare of his kingdom in the vain attempt to reconcile popular progress with political despotism. alexander was evidently saddened by the fate of napoleon, and on his return to st. petersburg persistently refused to accept the public rejoicings which were proffered him. napoleon escaped from elba, where the influence of alexander had placed him, and again was on the throne of france. alexander hesitated whether again to march against him. he yielded, however, to the solicitations of his associated sovereigns, and at the head of an army of one hundred and sixty thousand men, was again on the march for paris. he was apprehensive that the dismemberment of the french empire, which was contemplated, might render austria and prussia too powerful for the repose of europe. upon the second capitulation of paris, after the battle of waterloo, alexander insisted that france should at least retain the limits she had in . upon this basis the new treaty was concluded. it is an interesting fact that the celebrated juliana, baroness of krudoner, was mainly instrumental in the organization of the holy alliance, which was at this time formed. she had wealth, wit and beauty, and had been supremely devoted to pleasure, shining among the most brilliant ornaments of st. petersburg, paris and vienna. weary of a life of gayety, she seems to have turned to religion and to have become a devout and earnest christian. her enthusiasm was roused with the idea of putting a stop to war, and of truly christianizing europe. she hastened to paris, when the allied sovereigns were there, and obtained an interview with the russian tzar. alexander was by nature of a devotional turn of mind, and the terrific scenes through which he had passed had given him a meditative and pensive spirit. he listened eagerly to the suggestions of madame krudoner, and, aided by her, sketched as follows the plan of the holy alliance: "in the name of the sacred and invisible trinity, their majesties, the emperor of austria, the king of prussia, and the emperor of russia, considering the momentous events which have occured in europe during the last three years, and especially the blessing which it has pleased providence to confer on those states which trust in him, and being fully convinced of the necessity of taking, as the rule of life, in all their affairs, the sublime truths which the holy religion of our saviour teaches us, "declare solemnly that the present act has no other object than to proclaim to the whole world their unalterable resolution to take, as their only guide, both in the internal administration of their respective states, and in their political relations with other governments, those principles of justice, christian charity and peace, which, far from being exclusively applicable to private individuals, should have an immediate influence upon the counsels of princes, and should regulate all their measures, as being the only means of consolidating human institutions and remedying their imperfections. consequently their majesties have agreed upon the following resolutions: "article i. in conformity with the declaration of the holy scriptures, which command all men to regard each other as brothers, the three contracting monarchs will remain united to each other by the ties of sincere and indissoluble fraternity. regarding themselves as private individuals, they will render each other, at all times, and in all places, aid and assistance; and considering themselves, in respect to their people and armies, as fathers of families, they will rule in the same spirit of fraternity, that religion, peace and justice may be protected. "article ii. also the only obligation of rigor, whether it be between these governments or their subjects, shall consist in rendering each other all sorts of service, and of testifying towards each other that unalterable benevolence and that mutual affection which shall lead them to guard one another as members of one and the same christian family. the three allied princes, regarding themselves as delegated by providence to govern three branches of this family, austria, prussia and russia, recognize that the christian world, of which they and their people compose a part, can have, in reality, no other sovereign than him to whom belongs all power, because in him alone are the treasures of love, of science and of infinite wisdom--that is to say, god, our divine saviour, the word of the most high, the word of life. consequently their majesties recommend to their people, with the greatest solicitude, and as the only means of enjoying that peace which springs from a good conscience, and which alone is durable, to strengthen themselves daily more and more in the exercise of those duties taught to the human family by the divine saviour. "article iii. all the powers who believe that they ought solemnly to profess the principles which have dictated this act, and who recognize how important it is for the welfare of nations, too long agitated, that these truths should hereafter exercise over the destinies of the human family that influence which they ought to exert, shall be received, with the same ardor and affection, into this holy alliance. done at paris, in the year of our lord, , september , and signed, francis, frederic william and alexander." such was the bond of the holy alliance. it was drawn up in the hand-writing of alexander. subsequently it was signed by the kings of england and france, and by nearly all the sovereigns of europe. the pope declined signing, as it was not consistent with his dignity to be a member of a confederacy of which he was not the head. these principles, apparently so true and salutary, became vitiated by the underlying of principles which gave them all their force. the alliance became in reality a conspiracy of the crowned heads of europe against the liberties of their subjects; and thus despotism sat enthroned. the liberal spirit, which was then breaking out all over the continent of europe, was thus, for a time, effectually crushed. it can hardly be supposed that alexander intended the holy alliance to accomplish the work which it subsequently performed. alexander, on his return to russia, devoted himself energetically to the government of his vast realms, taking long and fatiguing journeys, and manifesting much interest in the elevation of the serfs to freedom. the latter years of alexander were clouded with sorrow. he was not on good terms with his wife, and the death of all his children rendered his home desolate. his health failed and some deep grief seemed ever to prey upon his spirits. it is supposed that the melancholy fate of napoleon, dying in a hut at st. helena, and of whom he had said, "never did i love a man as i have loved that man!" weighed heavily upon him. he was constantly haunted by fears of a rising of the oppressed people, and to repel that danger was becoming continually more despotic. in the year , alexander, sick, anxious and melancholy, took a long journey, with his wife, to tanganroy, a small town upon the sea of azof, fifteen hundred miles from st. petersburg. he had for some time looked forward with dread to his appearance before the bar of god. a sense of sin oppressed him, and he had long sought relief with prayers and tears. his despondency led him to many forebodings that he should not live to return from this journey. the morning before he left st. petersburg, at the early hour of four o'clock, he visited the monastery where the remains of his children were entombed, and at their grave spent some time in prayer. wrapped in his cloak, in unbroken silence he listened to the "chant for the dead," and then commenced his journey. no peasant whom he met on the way had a heavier heart than throbbed in the bosom of the sovereign. for hours he sat in the carriage with the empress, with whom in grief he had become reconciled, and hardly a word was uttered. at length they arrived upon the shores of azof. the emperor took a rapid tour through these provinces, visiting among other places sevastopol, which he had long been fortifying. he was so much struck with the magnificence of this place that he remarked, "should i ever resign the reins of government, i should wish to retire to this city, that i might here terminate my career!" returning to his wife at tanganroy, he was seized with a fever, probably caused by care and toil. the disease was so rapid in its progress as to lead many to suppose that he was falling a victim to poison. on the approach of death, perceiving that he was dying, he requested that he might be raised upon his pillow, that he might once more behold the light of the sun. he simply remarked, "how beautiful is the day!" and fell back upon his pillow to die. the empress was weeping by his side. he took her hand, pressed it tenderly as if bidding her an eternal adieu, and died. it was the st of december, . the empress elizabeth in this sad hour forgot all her wrongs; for the emperor had by no means been to her a faithful husband. she wrote to her friends, "our angel is in heaven; and, as for me, i still linger on earth: but i hope soon to be reunited with him in the skies!" the cry immediately resounded through europe that alexander had fallen by poison. as the emperor had no children living, the crown, by hereditary descent, passed to his next brother, constantine. alexander had long been conscious that constantine did not possess suitable qualifications to govern, and constantine himself, frivolous and pleasure-loving, was not at all emulous of imperial power. when a mere boy he had been married to a german princess, but fifteen years of age. they endured each other through the angry strifes of four years and then separated. constantine became enamored of the daughter of a polish count, and sought a divorce. alexander consented to this arrangement on condition that constantine would resign all right to the throne. the terms were gladly accepted, and constantine signed the following renunciation, which was kept secret until the occasion should arise for it to be promulgated. "conscious that i do not possess the genius, the talents or the strength necessary to fit me for the dignity of a sovereign, to which my birth would give me a right, i entreat your imperial majesty to transfer that right to him to whom it belongs after me, and thus assure for ever the stability of the empire. as to myself, i shall add, by this renunciation, a new guarantee and a new force to the engagements which i spontaneously and solemnly contracted on the occasion of my divorce from my first wife. all the circumstances in which i find myself strengthen my determination to adhere to this resolution, which will prove to the empire and to the whole world the sincerity of my sentiments." another document had also been prepared which declared alexander's second brother, nicholas, heir to the empire. napoleon, at st. helena, speaking of the king of prussia and of alexander, said, "frederic william, as a private character, is an honorable, good and worthy man, but in his political capacity he is naturally disposed to yield to necessity. he is always commanded by whoever has power on his side, and is about to strike. "as to the emperor of russia, he is a man infinitely superior to frederic william or francis. he possesses wit, grace, information, and is fascinating, but he is not to be trusted. he is devoid of candor, a true _greek of the lower empire_. at the same time he is not without ideology, real or assumed; after all it may only be a smattering, derived from his education and his preceptor. would you believe what i had to discuss with him? he maintained that _inheritance_ was an abuse in monarchy, and i had to spend more than an hour, and employ all my eloquence and logic in proving to him that this right constituted the peace and happiness of the people. it may be too that he was mystifying, for he is cunning, false, adroit and hypocritical. i repeat it, he is a greek of the lower empire. "if i die here he will be my real heir in europe. i alone was able to stop him with his deluge of tartars. the crisis is great, and will have lasting effects upon the continent of europe, especially upon constantinople. he was solicitous with me for the possession of it. i have had much coaxing upon this subject, but i constantly turned a deaf ear to it. the turkish empire, shattered as it appeared, would constantly have remained a point of separation between us. it was the marsh which prevented my right from being turned. "as to greece it is another matter. greece awaits a liberator. there will be a brilliant crown of glory. he will inscribe his name for ever with those of homer, plato and epaminondas. i perhaps was not far from it. when, during my campaign in italy, i arrived on the shores of the adriatic, i wrote to the directory, that i had before my eyes the kingdom of alexander. still later i entered into engagements with ali pacha; and when corfu was taken, they must have found there ammunition, and a complete equipment for an army of forty or fifty thousand men. i had caused maps to be made of macedonia, servia, albania. greece, the peloponnesus at least, must be the lot of the european power which shall possess egypt. it should be ours; and then an independent kingdom in the north, constantinople, with its provinces, to serve as a barrier to the power of russia, as they have pretended to do with respect to france, by creating the kingdom of belgium." chapter xxxi. nicholas. from to . abdication of constantine.--accession of nicholas.--insurrection quelled.--nicholas and the conspirator.--anecdote.--the palace of peterhoff.--the winter palace.--presentation at court.--magnitude of russia.--description of the hellespont and the dardanelles.--the turkish invasion.--aims of russia.--views of england and france.--wars of nicholas.--the polish insurrection.--war of the crimea.--jealousies of the leading nations.--encroachments.--death of nicholas.--accession of alexander ii. constantine was at warsaw when the news arrived of the death of his brother. the mother of alexander was still living. even nicholas either affected not to know, or did not know, that his wild, eccentric brother constantine had renounced the throne in his favor, for he immediately, upon the news of the death of alexander, summoned the imperial guard into the palace chapel, and, with them, took the oath of allegiance to his older brother, the grand duke constantine. on his return, his mother, who is represented as being quite frantic in her inconsolable grief, exclaimed, "nicholas, what have you done? do you not know that there is a document which names you presumptive heir?" "if there be one," nicholas replied, "i do not know it, neither does any one else. but this we all know, that our legitimate sovereign, after alexander, is my brother constantine. we have therefore done our duty, come what may." nicholas was persistent in his resolution not to take the crown until he received from his brother a confirmation of his renunciation of the throne. three weeks elapsed before this intelligence arrived. it then came full and decisive, and nicholas no longer hesitated, though the interval had revealed to him that fearful dangers were impending. he was informed by several of his generals that a wide-spread conspiracy extended throughout the army in favor of a constitutional government. many of the officers and soldiers, in their wars against napoleon and in their invasion of france, had become acquainted with those principles of popular liberty which were diffused throughout france, and which it was the object of the allies to crush. upon their return to russia, the utter despotism of the tzar seemed more than ever hateful to them. several conspiracies had been organized for his assassination, and now the plan was formed to assassinate the whole imperial family, and introduce a republic. nicholas was seriously alarmed by the danger which threatened, though he was fully conscious that his only safety was to be found in courage and energy. he accordingly made preparation for the administration of the oath of allegiance to the army. "i shall soon," said he, "be an emperor or a corpse." on the morning when the oath was to be administered, and when it was evident that the insurrection would break out, he said, "if i am emperor only for an hour, i will show that i am worthy of it." the morning of the th of december dawned upon st. petersburg in tumult. bands of soldiers were parading the streets shouting, "constantine for ever." the insurrection had assumed the most formidable aspect, for many who were not republicans, were led to believe that nicholas was attempting to usurp the crown which, of right, belonged to constantine. two generals, who had attempted to quell the movement, had already been massacred, and vast mobs, led by the well-armed regiments, were, from all quarters of the city, pressing toward the imperial palace. nicholas, who was then twenty-nine years of age, met the crisis with the energy of napoleon. placing himself at the head of a small body of faithful guards, he rode to encounter his rebellious subjects in the stern strife of war. instead of meeting a mob of unarmed men, he found marshaled against him the best disciplined troops in his army. a terrible conflict ensued, in which blood flowed in torrents. the emperor, heading his own troops, exposed himself, equally with them, to all perils. as soon as it was evident that he would be compelled to fire upon his subjects, he sent word to his wife of the cruel necessity. she was in the palace, surrounded by the most distinguished ladies of the court, tremblingly awaiting the issue. when the thunder of the artillery commenced in the streets, she threw herself upon her knees, and, weeping bitterly, continued in prayer until she was informed that the revolt was crushed, and that her husband was safe. the number slain is not known. that it might be concealed, the bodies were immediately thrust through holes cut in the ice of the neva. though the friends of liberty can not but regret that free principles have obtained so slender a foothold in russia, it is manifest that this attempt could lead only to anarchy. the masses of the nobles were thoroughly corrupt, and the masses of the people ignorant and debased. the russian word for constitution, _constitutsya_, has a feminine termination. many of the people, it is reported, who were shouting, "constantine and the constitution for ever," thought that the constitution was the wife of constantine. it must be admitted that such ignorance presents but a poor qualification for republican institutions. at the close of this bloody day, one of the leading conspirators, a general of high position in the army was led a captive into the presence of nicholas. the heroic republican met, without quailing, the proud eye of his sovereign. "your father," said nicholas sternly, "was a faithful servant, but he has left behind him a degenerate son. for such an enterprise as yours large resources were requisite. on what did you rely?" "sire," replied the prisoner, "matters of this kind can not be spoken of before witnesses." nicholas led the conspirator into a private apartment, and for a long time conversed with him alone. here the tzar had opened before him, in the clearest manner, the intolerable burdens of the people, the oppression of the nobles, the impotency of the laws, the venality of the judges, the corruption which pervaded all departments of the government, legislative, executive and judiciary. the noble conspirator, whose mind was illumined with those views of human rights which, from the french revolution, were radiating throughout europe, revealed all the corruptions of the state in the earnest and honest language of a man who was making a dying declaration. nicholas listened to truths such as seldom reach the ears of a monarch; and these truths probably produced a powerful impression upon him in his subsequent career. many of the conspirators, in accordance with the barbaric code of russia, were punished with awful severity. some were whipped to death. some were mutilated and exiled to siberia, and many perished on the scaffold. fifteen officers of high rank were placed together beneath the gibbet, with ropes around their necks. as the drop fell, the rope of one broke, and he fell to the ground. bruised and half stunned he rose upon his knees, and looking sadly around exclaimed, "truly nothing ever succeeds with me, not even death." another rope was procured, and this unhappy man, whose words indicated an entire life of disappointment and woe, was launched into the world of spirits. we have before spoken of the palace of peterhoff, a few miles from st. petersburg, on the southern shores of the bay of cronstadt. it is now the st. cloud of russia, the favorite rural retreat of the russian tzars. this palace, which has been the slow growth of ages, consists of a pile of buildings of every conceivable order of architecture. it is furnished with all the appliances of luxury which europe or asia can produce. the pleasure grounds, in their artistic embellishments, are perhaps unsurpassed by any others in the world. fountains, groves, lawns, lakes, cascades and statues, bewilder and delight the spectator. there is an annual fête on this ground in july, which assembles all the elite of russian society. the spacious gardens are by night illuminated with almost inconceivable splendor. the whole forest blazes with innumerable torches, and every leaf, twig and drop of spray twinkles with colored lights. here is that famous artificial tree which has so often been described. it is so constructed with root, trunk and branch, leaf and bud as to deceive the most practiced eye. its shade, with an inviting seat placed beneath it, lures the loiterer, through these eden groves, to approach and rest. the moment he takes his seat he presses a spring which converts the tree into a shower bath, and from every twig jets of water in a cloud of spray, envelops the astonished stranger. the winter palace at st. petersburg is also a palace of unsurpassed splendor. more than a thousand persons habitually dwell beneath the imperial roof. no saloons more sumptuous in architecture and adornment are probably to be found in the world; neither are the exactions of court etiquette anywhere more punctiliously observed. in entering this palace a massive gateway ushers one into a hall of magnificent dimensions, so embellished with shrubs and flowers, multiplied by mirrors, that the guest is deceived into the belief that he is sauntering through the walks of a spacious flower garden. a flight of marble stairs conducts to an apartment of princely splendor, called the hall of the marshals. passing through this hall, one enters a suite of rooms, apparently interminable, all of extraordinary grandeur and sumptuousness, which are merely antechambers to the grand audience saloon. in this grand saloon the emperor holds his court. presentation day exhibits one of the most brilliant spectacles of earthly splendor and luxury. when the hour of presentation arrives some massive folding doors are thrown open, revealing the imperial chapel thronged with those who are to take part in the ceremony. first, there enters from the chapel a crowd of army officers, often a thousand in number, in their most brilliant uniform, the vanguard of the escort of the tzar. they quietly pass through the vast apartment and disappear amidst the recesses of the palace. still the almost interminable throng, glittering in gala dresses, press on. at length the grand master of ceremonies makes his appearance announcing the approach of the emperor and empress. the royal pair immediately enter, and bow to the representatives of other courts who may be present, and receive those who are honored with a presentation. no one is permitted to speak to their majesties but in reply to questions which they may ask. the emperor nicholas was very stately and reserved in his manners, and said but little. the empress, more affable, would present her ungloved hand to her guest, who would receive it and press it with fervor to his lips. the emperor nicholas, during his reign, was supposed to have some ninety millions of the human family subject to his sway. with a standing army of a million of men, two hundred thousand of whom were cavalry, he possessed power unequaled by that of any other single kingdom on the globe. in the recent struggle at sevastopol all the energies of england, france and turkey were expended against russia alone, and yet it was long doubtful whose banners would be victorious. it is estimated that the territory of russia now comprises one seventh of the habitable globe, extending from the baltic sea across the whole breadth of europe and of asia to behring's straits, and from the eternal ices of the north pole, almost down to the sunny shores of the mediterranean. as the previous narrative has shown, for many ages this gigantic power has been steadily advancing towards constantinople. the russian flag now girdles the euxine sea, and notwithstanding the recent check at sevastopol, russia is pressing on with resistless strides towards the possession of the hellespont. a brief sketch of the geography of those realms will give one a more vivid idea of the nature of that conflict, which now, under the title of the eastern or turkish question, engrosses the attention of europe. the strait which connects the mediterranean sea with the sea of marmora was originally called the hellespont, from the fabulous legend of a young lady, named helle, falling into it in attempting to escape from a cruel mother-in-law. at the mouth of the hellespont there are four strong turkish forts, two on the european and two on the asiatic side. these forts are called the dardanelles, and hence, from them, the straits frequently receive the name of the dardanelles. this strait is thirty-three miles long, occasionally expanding in width to five miles, and again being crowded by the approaching hills into a narrow channel less than half a mile in breadth. through the serpentine navigation of these straits, with fortresses frowning upon every headland, one ascends to the sea of marmora, a vast inland body of water one hundred and eighty miles in length and sixty miles in breadth. crossing this sea to the northern shore, you enter the beautiful straits of the bosporus. just at the point where the bosporus enters the sea of marmora, upon the western shore of the straits, sits enthroned upon the hills, in peerless beauty, the imperial city of constantine with its majestic domes, arrowy minarets and palaces of snow-white marble glittering like a fairy vision beneath the light of an oriental sun. the straits of the bosporus, which connect the sea of marmora with the black sea, are but fifteen miles long and of an average width of but about one fourth of a mile. in natural scenery and artistic embellishments this is probably the most beautiful reach of water upon the globe. it is the uncontradicted testimony of all tourists that the scenery of the bosporus, in its highly-cultivated shores, its graceful sweep of hills and mountain ranges, in its gorgeous architecture, its atmospheric brilliance and in its vast accumulations of the costumes and customs of all europe and asia, presents a scene which can nowhere else be paralleled. on the asiatic shore, opposite constantinople, lies scutari, a beautiful city embowered in the foliage of the cyprus. an arm of the strait reaches around the northern portion of constantinople, and furnishes for the city one of the finest harbors in the world. this bay, deep and broad, is called the golden horn. until within a few years, no embassador of christian powers was allowed to contaminate the moslem city by taking up his residence in it. the little suburb of pera, on the opposite side of the golden horn, was assigned to these embassadors, and the turk, on this account, denominated it _the swine's quarter_. passing through the bosporus fifteen miles, there expands before you the euxine, or black sea. this inland ocean, with but one narrow outlet, receives into its bosom the danube, the dniester, the dnieper, the don and the cuban. these streams, rolling through unmeasured leagues of russian territory, open them to the commerce of the world. this brief sketch reveals the infinite importance of the dardanelles and the bosporus to russia. this great empire, "leaning against the north pole," touches the baltic sea only far away amidst the ices of the north. st. petersburg, during a large portion of the year, is blockaded by ice. ninety millions of people are thus excluded from all the benefits of foreign commerce for a large portion of the year unless they can open a gateway to distant shores through the bosporus and the dardanelles. america, with thousands of miles of atlantic coast, manifests the greatest uneasiness in having the island of cuba in the hands of a foreign power, lest, in case of war, her commerce in the gulf should be embarrassed. but the dardanelles are, in reality, the only gateway for the commerce of nearly all russia. all her great navigable rivers, without exception, flow into the black sea, and thence through the bosporus, the marmora and the hellespont, into the mediterranean. and yet russia, with her ninety millions of population--three times that of the united states--can not send a boat load of corn into the mediterranean without bowing her flag to all the turkish forts which frown along her pathway. and in case of war with turkey her commerce is entirely cut off. russia is evidently unembarrassed with any very troublesome scruples of conscience in reference to reclaiming those beautiful realms, once the home of the christian, which the turk has so ruthlessly and bloodily invaded. in assailing the turk, the russian feels that he is fighting for his religion. the tzar indignantly inquires, "what title deed can the turk show to the city of constantine?" none but the dripping cimeter. the annals of war can tell no sadder tale of woe than the rush of the barbaric turk into christian greece. he came, a merciless robber with gory hands, plundering and burning. fathers and mothers were butchered. christian maidens, shrieking with terror, were dragged to the moslem harems. christian boys were compelled to adopt the mohammedan faith, and then, crowded into the army, were compelled to fight the mohammedan battles. for centuries the christians, thus trampled beneath the heel of oppression, have suffered every conceivable indignity from their cruel oppressors. earnestly have they appealed to their christian brethren of russia for protection. it is so essential to the advancing civilization of russia that she should possess a maritime port which may give her access to commerce, that it is not easy for us to withhold our sympathies from her in her endeavor to open a gateway to and from her vast territories through the dardanelles. when france, england and turkey combined to batter down sevastopol and burn the russian fleet, that russia might still be barred up in her northern wilds by turkish forts, there was an instinct in the american heart which caused the sympathies of this country to flow in favor of russia, notwithstanding all the eloquent pleadings of the french and english press. the cabinet of st. james regards these encroachments of russia with great apprehension. the view england takes of the subject may be seen in the following extracts from the _quarterly review_: "the possession of the dardanelles would give to russia the means of creating and organizing an almost unlimited marine. it would enable her to prepare in the black sea an armament of any extent, without its being possible for any power in europe to interrupt her proceedings, or even to watch or discover her designs. our naval officers, of the highest authority, have declared that an effective blockade of the dardanelles can not be maintained throughout the year. even supposing we could maintain permanently in those seas a fleet capable of encountering that of russia, it is obvious that, in the event of a war, it would be in the power of russia to throw the whole weight of her disposable forces on any point in the mediterranean, without any probability of our being able to prevent it, and that the power of thus issuing forth with an overwhelming force, at any moment, would enable her to command the mediterranean sea for a limited time whenever it might please her so to do. her whole southern empire would be defended by a single impregnable fortress. the road to india would then be open to her, with all asia at her back. the finest materials in the world for an army destined to serve in the east would be at her disposal. our power to overawe her in europe would be gone, and by even a demonstration against india she could augment our national expenditure by many millions annually, and render the government of that country difficult beyond all calculation." such is the view which england takes of this subject. the statesmen of england and france contemplate with alarm the rapid growth of russia, and yet know not how to arrest its progress. they see the russian tzars, year after year, annexing new nations to their territory, and about all they can do is to remonstrate. all agree that the only effectual measure to check the growth of russia is to prevent her from taking possession of the dardanelles. to accomplish this, england and france are endeavoring to bind together the crumbling and discordant elements of ottoman power, to infuse the vigor of youth into the veins of an old man dying of debauchery and age. but the crescent is inevitably on the wane. the doom of the moslem is sealed. there are four great nations now advancing with marvelous strides in the appropriation of this globe to themselves. russia has already taken possession of one seventh of the world's territory, and she needs now but to annex turkey in europe and turkey in asia to complete her share. france is spreading her influence throughout southern europe, and, with a firm grasp, is seizing the provinces of northern africa. england claims half of the islands of the ocean, boasts that the sun never sets upon her dominions, and _has_ professed that the ocean is her private property. her armies, invincible, sweep the remotest plains of asia, removing and setting down landmarks at her pleasure. her advances are so gigantic that the annexation of a few thousand leagues, at any time, hardly attracts attention. america is looking with a wistful eye upon the whole of north and south america, the islands of the caribbean sea and the groups of the pacific.[ ] [footnote : the jealousy of the leading nations in regard to their mutual encroachments is amusingly illustrated in an interview between senator douglas and sir henry bulwer in reference to the clayton-bulwer treaty. an article was inserted in this treaty by the english government, binding both england and america not to colonize, annex or exercise any dominion over any portion of central america. sir henry argued that the pledge was fair and just since it was reciprocal, england asking no more than she was ready herself to grant. "to test your principle," said senator douglas, "i would propose an amendment of simply two words. let the article read, 'neither england nor the united states will ever colonize any part of central america _or asia_.'" the british minister exclaimed, in surprise, "but you have no colonies in asia." "true," replied the united states senator, "neither have you any colonies in central america." "but," rejoined sir henry, "you can never establish your government there, in asia." "no," mr. douglas replied, "neither do we intend that you shall plant your government here, in central america."] immediately after the accession of nicholas to the throne, war broke out with persia. it was of short duration. the persian monarch, utterly discomfited, was compelled to cede to russia large provinces in the caucasus, and extensive territory on the south-western shore of the caspian, and to pay all the expenses of the war. immediately after this, on the th of may, , war was declared against turkey. the russian army, one hundred and sixty thousand strong, flushed with victory, crossed the pruth and took possession of the entire left bank of the danube, for some hundreds of miles from its mouth, with all its fertile fields and populous cities. they then crossed the river, and overran the whole region of bulgaria. the storms of winter, however, compelled a retreat, which the russians effected after most terrific conflicts, and, recrossing the danube, they established themselves in winter quarters on its left banks, having lost in the campaign one half of their number. the turks took possession of the right bank, and remained, during the winter, in face of their foes. in the spring of the russians, having obtained a reinforcement of seventy thousand men, opened the campaign anew upon the land, while a fleet of forty-two vessels, carrying fifteen hundred guns, coöperated on the black sea. through fields of blood, where the turks, with the energies of despair, contested every step, the victorious russians advanced nearly three hundred miles. they entered the defiles of the balkan mountains, and forced the passage. concentrating their strength at the base of the southern declivities, the path was open before them to constantinople. pushing rapidly forward, they entered adrianople in triumph. they were now within one hundred and fifty miles of constantinople. the consternation in the turkish capital was indescribable, and all europe was looking for the issue with wonder. the advance guard of the russian army was already within eighty miles of the imperial city when the sultan, mahmoud iv., implored peace, and assented to the terms his victor extorted. by this treaty, called the treaty of adrianople, turkey paid russia twenty-nine millions of dollars to defray the expenses of the war, opened the dardanelles to the free navigation of all russian merchant ships, and engaged not to maintain any fortified posts on the north of the danube. in july, , the poles rose in a general insurrection, endeavoring to shake off the russian yoke. with hurricane fury the armies of nicholas swept the ill-fated territory, and poland fell to rise no more. the vengeance of the tzar was awful. for some time the roads to siberia were thronged with noble men driven into exile. in the year , constantinople was imperiled by the armies of mohammed ali, the energetic pacha of egypt. the sultan implored aid of russia. nicholas sent an army and a fleet, and drove mohammed ali back to egypt. as compensation for this essential aid, the sultan entered into a treaty, by which both powers were bound to afford succor in case either was attacked, and turkey also agreed to close the dardanelles against any power with whom russia might be at war. the revolution in paris of , which expelled louis philippe from the throne, excited the hopes of the republican party all over europe. the hungarians rose, under kossuth, in the endeavor to shake off the austrian yoke. francis joseph appealed to russia for aid. nicholas dispatched two hundred thousand men to crush the hungarians, and they were crushed. nicholas asked no remuneration for these services. he felt amply repaid in having arrested the progress of constitutional liberty in europe. various circumstances, each one trivial in itself, conspired to lead nicholas in to make a new and menacing demonstration of power in the direction of constantinople. an army was marshaled on the frontiers, and a large fleet assembled at odessa and sevastopol. england and france were alarmed, and a french fleet of observation entered the waters of greece, while the english fleet at malta strengthened itself for any emergence. the prominent question professedly at issue between russia and turkey was the protection which should be extended to members of the greek church residing within the turkish domains. the sultan, strengthened by the secret support of france and england, refused to accede to the terms which russia demanded, and the armies of nicholas were put on the march for constantinople. england and france dispatched their fleets for the protection of turkey. in the campaign of sevastopol, with which our readers are all familiar, russia received a check which will, for a few years, retard her advances. during the progress of the campaign of sevastopol, the emperor nicholas, in february, , was suddenly seized with the influenza. the disease made rapid progress. he could not sleep at night, and an incessant cough racked his frame. on the d, notwithstanding the intense severity of the weather, he insisted upon reviewing some troops who were about to set out for the seat of war. "sire," said one of his physicians, "there is not a surgeon in the army who would permit a common soldier to leave the hospital in the state in which you are, for he would be sure that his patient would reenter it still worse." "'tis well, gentlemen," said the emperor, "you have done your duty, and i shall do mine." then wrapping his cloak about him, he entered his sledge. it was a bleak winter's day. pale, languid and coughing incessantly, he rode along the lines of his troops. he returned in a profuse perspiration, and was soon seized with a relapse, which was aggravated by the disastrous tidings he was receiving from sevastopol. he rapidly failed, and the empress, anxious as to the result, suggested that he should receive the sacrament of the lord's supper. "no!" the emperor replied. "i can not approach so solemn a mystery undressed and in bed. it will be better when i can do it in a suitable manner." the empress, endeavoring to conceal her tears, commenced the repetition of the lord's prayer, in a low tone of voice. as she uttered the words "thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven," he fervently added, "for ever, for ever, for ever." observing that his wife was in tears he inquired, "why do you weep? am i in danger?" she, afraid to utter the truth, said, "no." he added, "you are greatly agitated and fatigued. you must retire and take some rest." a few hours after three o'clock in the morning, dr. mandt entered. "tell me candidly," said the emperor, "what my disease is. you know i have always forewarned you to inform me in time if i fell seriously ill, in order that i might not neglect the duties of a christian." "i can not conceal from your majesty," the physician replied, "that the disease is becoming serious. the right lung is attacked." "do you mean to say that it is threatened with paralysis?" enquired the emperor. the doctor replied, "if the disease do not yield to our efforts, such may indeed be the result; but we do not yet observe it, and we still have some hope of seeing you restored." "ah," said the emperor, "i now comprehend my state and know what i have to do." dismissing his physician he summoned his eldest son, alexander, who was to succeed him upon the throne; calmly informed him that he deemed his condition hopeless and that the hour of death was approaching. "say nothing," he continued, "to your mother which may alarm her fears; but send immediately for my confessor." the archpriest bajanof soon entered, and commenced the prayers which precede confession. the prayers being finished, the emperor crossed himself and said, "lord jesus, receive me into thy bosom." he then partook of the sacrament of the lord's supper with the empress and his son alexander. the remaining members of the imperial family were then summoned into the chamber. he announced with firmness his approaching end, and gave to each his particular blessing. the empress, overwhelmed with anguish, cried out, "oh, god! can i not die with him?" "you must live for our children," said the emperor; and then turning to his son alexander, he added, "you know that all my anxiety, all my efforts had for their object the good of russia. my desire was to labor until i could leave you the empire thoroughly organized, protected from all danger from without, and completely tranquil and happy. but you see at what a time and under what circumstances i die. such, however, seems to be the will of god. your burden will be heavy." alexander, weeping, replied, "if i am destined to lose you, i have the certainty that in heaven you will pray to god for russia and for us all. and you will ask his aid that i may be able to sustain the burden which he will have imposed upon me." "yes," the emperor replied, "i have always prayed for russia and for you all. there also will i pray for you." then speaking to the whole assembled group, he added, "remain always, as hitherto, closely united in family love." several of the important officers of the state were then introduced. the emperor thanked them for their faithful services and tried devotion, and recommended them to his son as worthy of all trust, gave them his benediction and bade them farewell. at his request his domestic servants were then brought into the room. to one, who was especially devoted to the empress, he said, "i fear that i have not sufficiently thanked you for the care which you took of the empress when she was last ill. be to her for the future what you have been in my life-time, and salute my beautiful peterhoff, the first time you go there with her." these interviews being closed, he addressed his son and count d'adelberg respecting his obsequies. he selected the room in which his remains were to be laid out, and the spot for his tomb in the cathedral of the apostles peter and paul. "let my funeral," said he, "be conducted with the least possible expense or display, as all the resources of the empire are now needed for the prosecution of the war." while conversing, news came that dispatches had arrived from sevastopol. the emperor deeming that he had already abdicated, declined perusing them, saying, "i have nothing more to do with earth." alexander sat for several hours at the bed side, receiving the last directions of his father. on the d of march the emperor remained upon his bed, unable to articulate a word, and with difficulty drawing each breath. at noon he revived a little and requested his son, in his name, to thank the garrison at sevastopol for their heroism. he then sent a message to the king of prussia, whose sister he had married. "say to frederic that i trust he will remain the same friend of russia he has ever been, and that he will never forget the dying words of our father." the agony of death was now upon him, and he was speechless. his confessor repeated the prayers for the dying. at twenty minutes past twelve he expired, holding, till the last moment, the hand of the empress and of his son alexander. alexander ii., who now occupies the throne, was born the th of april, . he is a young man of noble character and very thoroughly educated. at the age of sixteen, according to the laws of the empire, he was declared to be of age and took the oath of allegiance to the throne. from that time he lived by his father's side in the cabinet and in the court. his fare was frugal, his bed hard, and his duties arduous in the extreme. in april, , he married the princess maria, daughter of the grand duke of darmstadt. she is reported to be a lady of many accomplishments and of the most sincere and unaffected piety. he is himself a man of deep religious feeling, and many who know him, esteem him to be a sincere and spiritual christian. what character the temptations of the throne may develop, time only can determine. he is now struggling, against the opposition of the nobles, to emancipate the boors from the slavery of serfdom, being ambitious of elevating all his subjects to the highest manhood. the temporal welfare of perhaps ninety millions of men is placed in the hands of this one monarch. an indiscreet act may plunge all russia into the horrors of a civil war, or kindle flames of strife through europe which no power but that of god can quench. the eyes of europe are fixed upon him, and the friends of the redeemer, the world over, watch his movements with solicitude and with prayer. index. a. adachef, (alexis) appointed minister of justice, . adrianople, treaty of, . akhmet, defiant reply of, to ivan, . alains, character and life of the, . alexander succeeds yaroslaf over novgorod, . ordered to attend bati, . appointed king of southern russia, . his reply to the pope, . conciliates berki, . alexander (nevsky) puts down a rebellion headed by his son, . death of, . yaroslaf of tiver succeeds, . alexander (son of michel) ascends the throne, . outlawed by usbeck, . flight and death of, . alexander i., grief of, on the assassination of paul, . re-establishes friendly relations with england, . regulations of, . message of, to napoleon, . defeat of, at austerlitz, his interview with the embassador of napoleon, . defeat at eylau, . implores peace, . his admiration for napoleon, . forced to turn against napoleon, . magnanimity towards napoleon, . death of, . alexander ii. succeeds nicholas on the throne, . character of, . alexis succeeds romanow, . marriage of, . his concessions to the mob, . his conquests in poland, . good works of, . death of, . alexis (son of peter the great) bad character of, . marriage of, . letters from, to his father, . flight of, . disinherited by his father, . plots against the crown, . condemned to death, . death of, . america, discovery of, by the normans, amiens, treaty of, . anastasia, death of, . andré (of souzdal) usurps the russian throne, . moderation of, . submission of, . homage of russia to, . assassination of, . sword of, . abolishes appanages, . andré (of gorodetz) dethrones his brother dmitri, . succeeds dmitri as sovereign, . death of, . anne (of constantinople) forced to marry vladimir, . christian influence of, over her husband, . death of, . anne (of england) letter of, to peter the great. . anne (duchess of courland) offered the throne, . energy of, . death of, . anecdote of the preservation of the greek libraries, . of the love of igor, . of the tartar's theology, . of vassili and the greek physician, . of peter the great, . of peter the great, . of peter iii., . appanages abolished by andré, . ascolod and dir, enterprise and conquests of, . conversion of, . assassination of, . astrachan added to russia, . athens taken by the goths, . attila the king of the huns, conquests of, . avars, conquests of the, . aristocracy, gradual rise of an, . b. bajazet ii., letter of ivan to, . reply of, . baptism of the russian nation in a day, . in lithuania, . barbarians, punishment of the, . bathori (stephen) elected king of poland, . bati given the command of the tartar horde, . depopulates rezdan, . captures moscow, . takes and burns vladimir, . disastrous course of, . plunders kief, . possessions of, . orders yaroslaf to appear before him, . summons alexander, . death of, . berki succeeds, . bayadour, chief of the mogols, . beards ordered to be removed, . belsky (ivan) elected regent of russia, . reforms of, . assassination of, . bielo (ozero sineous) establishes his court at, . bielski (bogdan) his attempt to grasp the throne, . his exile, . "black death," ravages of the, . bohemia, aid from, to ysiaslaf, . bokhara burned by the tartars, . boleslas, (king of poland) assists sviatopolk to defeat yaroslaf, . seizes the sister of yaroslaf as his concubine, . attempt to poison, . forced to fly from kief, . boleslas ii. (of poland) reception of ysiaslaf by, . robs ysiaslaf and expels him, . refunds the treasure, . bosporus, the greeks plant their colonies along the shore of the, . bulgaria conquered by sviatoslaf, . the capital conveyed from kief to, . conquered by georges, . condition of, ; expedition against, . c. caucasus, the eagles of the russians planted on the, . catharine i., first appearance of, . public marriage of, with peter, . crowned empress, . assumes the government, . death of, . catharine ii., early life of, . autobiography of, . seizes the throne, . manifesto of, on the death of peter iii., . her labors and reforms, . administration of, . urged by her ministers to marry, . numerous titles of, . catharine ii., attempt to assassinate, . inoculation of, . entertainments of, . her schemes with henry, prince of prussia, . conquers the turks, . correspondence of, . peace with turkey effected by, . personal appearance of, . conspiracy against, . interview of, with joseph ii., . her education of her children, . erection of the statue to peter the great by, . seizes the crimea, . secures peace with turkey, . toleration of, . her journey to the crimea, . makes war on poland. . death of, . character of, . chanceller (captain) voyage of, . charles xii. (of sweden) ascends the throne, . conquers the russians, . drives augustus from poland, . wounded, . utter defeat of, . escape of, from turkey, . death of, . chemyaka, see dmitri. cherson, church built at, in commemoration of the baptism of vladimir, . children, the female allowed to be killed, . china, irruption of the tartars into, . christians, persecution of the, by the tartars, . christianity, its entrance into russia, . diffusion of, into souzdal, . attempts of andré to extend, . chronology of russia: rurik, sineous and truvor jointly rule over russia, . rurik succeeds sineous and truvor, . ascolod and dir reign over a portion of russia, . oleg succeeds ascolod and dir, . igor succeeds oleg, . olga succeeds oleg, . sviatoslaf succeeds olga, . yaropolk succeeds olga, . vladimir succeeds yaropolk, . sviatopolk succeeds vladimir, . yaroslaf succeeds sviatopolk, . vseslaf succeeds yaroslaf, . ysiaslaf succeeds vseslaf, . vsevolod succeeds ysiaslaf, . sviatopolk succeeds vsevolod, . monomaque succeeds sviatopolk, . mstislaf succeeds monomaque, . vladimirovitch succeeds mstislaf, . vsevolod succeeds vladimirovitch, . igor succeeds vsevolod, . ysiaslaf succeeds igor, . rostislaf succeeds ysiaslaf, . georges succeeds rostislaf, . davidovitch succeeds georges, . rostislaf succeeds davidovitch, . georgievitch succeeds rostislaf, . mstislaf ysiaslavitch succeeds georgievitch, . andré succeeds mstislaf, . michel succeeds andré, . vsevolod succeeds michel, . georges succeeds vsevolod, . octai succeeds georges, . bati succeeds octai, . dmitri of moscow secures the throne, . tamerlane succeeds dmitri, . ivan iii. throws off the mogol power, . vassili succeeds ivan iii., . hélène (as regent) succeeds vassili, . schouisky (as regent) succeeds hélène, . ivan belsky (as regent) succeeds schouisky, . ivan iv. seizes his throne, . feodor succeeds ivan iv., . boris succeeds feodor, . feodor ii. succeeds boris, . dmitri succeeds feodor ii., . zuski succeeds dmitri, . michel feodor romanow elected king, . alexis succeeds romanow, . feodor succeeds alexis, . sophia (as regent) succeeds feodor, . peter i. succeeds sophia, . catharine succeeds peter i., . peter ii. succeeds catharine, . anne succeeds peter ii., . ivan v. succeeds anne, . elizabeth succeeds ivan v., . peter iii. succeeds elizabeth, . catharine ii. succeeds peter iii, . paul i. succeeds catharine ii., . alexander succeeds paul i., . nicholas succeeds alexander i., . alexander ii. succeeds nicholas, . during the tartar reign, only the tartar conqueror is usually given. church built at cherson, . built on the site of the idol of péroune, . civilization, the russians indebted to the greeks for their, . commerce of russia, . between england and russia, . increase of, . constantine (prince of yaroslavle) claims the throne, . turns kostroma, . ascends the imperial throne, . effeminacy of, . death of, . constantine resigns his right to the throne, . constantinople, the city of, . "court favorite" office of the, . crimea, taken possession of by vladimir, . crusaders driven from the imperial city, . cyrille (bishop of novgorod) effects a treaty between novgorod and the tartars, . d. dacia, the countries forming the province of, . conquered and divided by trajan, . daniel (of gallicia) attempts of, to emancipate russia, . crowned emperor, . daniel (prince of moscow) declares independence, . davidovitch (of tchernigof) invited to seize the throne of russia, . driven from the throne by rostislaf, . flight of, to moscow, . danielovitch (jean) appointed grand prince by the tartars, . reign and death of, . diana, temple of, burned at ephesus, . diderot, visit of, to catharine, and her correspondence with him, . dimsdale (dr. thomas) introduces inoculation, . discoveries during the reign of ivan, . dnieper, baptism of the nation in the, . plunder of the commerce on the, . dimitri ascends the throne, . drives andré from novgorod, . disasters and death of, . dimitri (son of michel) assassinates georges, . execution of, . dmitri (of souzdal) accession of, to the throne, . deposed, . dmitri (of moscow) crowned sovereign, . conquers the tartars, . wounded, . death of, . dmitri chemyaka assumes the government, ; death of, . dmitri (prince, son of ivan iv.) assassination of, . griska claims to be, . see griska. dmitry declines the throne, . drevliens, debasement of the tribe of, . revolt of the, against igor, . their punishment and enthusiasm of, for olga, . droutsk burned by yaropolk, . e. eastern question, the cause of the present war of the, . ecclesiastical council called to rectify evils in the church, . elizabeth (daughter of peter the great) conspiracy of, . seizes the throne, . victories of, over frederic of prussia, . death of, . character of, . embassador of andré insulted, . the first from russia, . emigration of russians to the mouth of the volga, . emperors, see russia and chronology. england, influence of, in europe, . amicable arrangement of russia with, . friendship between russia and, . entertainment, description of a royal, . etiquette, laws of, as to young ladies, . eylau, battle of, . f. famine in russia, . feodor (son of ivan iv.) ascends the throne, . his incapacity, . death of, . feodor (son of alexis) ascends throne, . makes peace with poland, . marriage of, . death of, . feudal system, implanting of the, . g. genghis khan, pretended divine authority of, . irruption into china, . burns bokhara, . recalls his troops from russia, . death of, . nominates octai as his successor, . see temoutchin. george (son of andré) sent embassador to novgorod, . returns to moscow, . georges (son of monomaque) expedition of, to bulgaria, . georges (of moscow) assists sviatoslaf, . enters kief in triumph, . drives rostislaf from the throne, . death of, . georges i. (brother of vsevolod) ascends the russian throne, . burns rostof, . defeated by mstislaf, . surrenders himself to mstislaf, and exiled, . disappears from history, . georges ii. ascends throne of russia, . attacks ochel, . founds nijni novgorod, . death of, . georges iii (of moscow) obtains assistance from the tartars, . defeated by michel, . secures the throne, . assassination of, . georgievitch (of souzdal) davidovitch seeks aid from, . his system of government, . ghirei (devlet) character of, . gleb (prince of minsk) takes sloutsk, . capture and death of, . gleb left in possession of kief; flight of, . gordon (general) entrusted with the royal troops, . gostomysle raises an embassy to visit the normans, . goths, devastation of the, . empire of the, . suicide of hermanric, king of the, . greece, overrun by the avars, . invaded by monomaque, . greek church, declared to be the best, . greeks, colonies of the, on the bosporus, . coalesce with the bulgarians and expel sviatoslaf, . gregory vii., see pope. griska assumes to be prince dmitri, and invades russia, . crowned emperor, . perplexities of, . marriage of, by proxy, . death of, . polish adventurer claims to be, . hung at moscow, . gudenow (boris) his supremacy over feodor, . assassinates dmitri, . his subterfuge to obtain the throne, . crowned emperor, . gustavus iii., interview of catharine with, . gyda, wife of monomaque, . h. hélène appointed regent of ivan iv., . despotic atrocities of, . death of, . hellespont, origin of the name, . henry iv. (of germany) solicited to aid ysiaslaf, . henry (prince of prussia) visits catharine, . schemes of, with catharine, . hereditary descent the cause of war, . hermanric, suicide of king, . hermitage, description of the, . herodotus, his account of the interior of russia, . holy alliance, formation of the, . hungary, aid from, sent to ysiaslaf, . alliance of, with russia, . revolt of, against austria, . huns, russia devastated by the, . revolting appearance of the, . huns, attila, king of the, . disappearance of the, . i. idols, the greek and sclavonian, . destruction of the, in russia, . igor, assumes the government of russia under the guardianship of oleg, . fears to claim his crown, . his love and marriage, . assumes the government of russia, . attack on constantinople, . his defeat by the greeks, . second attack on constantinople, . concludes treaty with the greeks, . death of, . igor ii. receives throne of russia, . made prisoner, . enters a convent, . assassination of, . ilmen, army on the shores of the lake of, . impostor, see griska. inventions during the reign of ivan iii., . ivan iii. ascends the throne, . early marriage of, . captures kezan, . affianced to sophia of greece, . marriage of, . his reforms, . letter of vassian to, . proposals for the marriage of his daughter, . letter of, to sultan bajazet ii., . letter of the sultan to, . death of the wife of, . marriage of the son of, . death of, . discoveries and inventions during the reign of, . ivan iv. acknowledged as tzar, . asserts claim to the throne, . coronation of, . marriage of, . change in the character of, . his address to the people, . defeat of, by the tartars, . capture of kezan by, . enthusiastic reception of, . serious illness of, . rebuke of, to sweden, . attaches livonia, to russia, . death of the wife of, . matrimonial projects with poland, . abdication of, . petitioned to resume the throne, . good will of england to, . flight of, . strives to be umpire in poland, . defiant demands of poland on, . unpopularity of, . death of his son, depression at, . death of, . his sons, . ivan v. succeeds to the throne, . deposed by elizabeth. . imprisonment and sufferings of, . assassination of, . ivan (brother of peter i.) seclusion and death of, . ivanovitch (jean, of moscow) reign and death of, . j. jacob (general) deserts the russians and defends azov, . captured and hung, . jean, base flattery of, to machmet, . jean danielovitch, see danielovitch. jena, battle of, . jews, attempt of andré to convert the, . joseph ii. (of germany) eccentricity of, . visit to st. petersburg, . k. kavgadi, taken possession of by michel, . kezan, captured by ivan iii., . siege of, . capture of, . insurrection in, . khan see genghis. khozars, the, conquered by sviatoslaf, . kief, beauty of the city of, . the norman adventurers ascolod and dir remain there, . taken by oleg, . the capital of russia transferred from, to bulgaria, . captured by vladimir, . decoration of, by yaroslaf, . punishment of, by ysiaslaf, . destruction of the citizens of, . government offered to monomaque, . festival in honor of the new reign, . the inhabitants of, invite vladimirovitch to ascend the throne of, . triumphal entrance of georges into, . roman appointed prince of, . plundered by the tartars, . kolomna, emigration from moscow to, . kostroma, burned by constantine, . kothian (prince of polovtsi) retreats to hungary, . koulikof, battle of, . kouria (chief of the petchénègues) defeats sviatoslaf and makes a drinking cup of his skull, . l. ladislaus elected emperor, . his election declared void, . laharpe, efforts of, for the education of alexander, . leczinsky (stanislaus) placed on the polish throne, . leon (of constantine) imbecility of, . library, foundation of the royal, of st. petersburg, . lippenow (zachary) puts the polish garrison to death, . london, peter the great's visit to, . london postman, extract from the, . m. macedon, see philip of. machmet, flattery of jean to, . mahomet ii., wars with genghis khan, . death of, . marcow (russian embassador) ordered to leave france, . maria (wife of vsevolod iii.) character of, . marriage, singular customs in, . martyrs, ivan and theodore, the first christians, . menzikoff, sketch of the life of, . banished by frederic ii., . death of, . michael iii. (of constantinople), . michel (of tchernigof, son of monomaque) offered the throne of russia, . his reign and death, . michel (of tver) succeeds andré on the throne of russia, . presents himself before the tartar horde, . execution of, . missionaries sent through russia to teach christianity, . mogols, character of the, . civilization of the, . moldavia, the inhabitants of, . monarchy, recapitulation of the russian, ; see chronology. monomaque offered the russian crown, . he declines it, . goes to the rescue of kief, . his expeditions to extend the empire, . sons of, . conquers the invaders from the caspian sea, . expedition against greece, . "golden bonnet" of, . death of, . parting letter of, to his children, . wife of, . moroson, ambitious schemes of, . marriage of, . moscow, first historical mention of, . supremacy of, . capture of, . burned, . captured by bati, . flight of georges ii. from, . becomes the capital, . burned by the tartars, . appearance of, in , . destroyed by fire, . grand fête at, . destroyed by the tartars, . burned by the poles, . mstislaf (son of monomaque) his expeditions and victories, . succeeds his father, . death of, . mstislaf ysiaslavitch, succeeds rostislaf over russia, . proclamation of, . flight of, from kief, . return to kief, . death of, . mstislaf (son of andré) ambition of, . summoned novgorod to surrender, . defeat of, . mstislaf (prince of galitch) appears in public, . aids constantine, . defeats georges, . beaten by the tartars, . munich (general) advice of, to peter, . appearance of, before catharine, . n. napoleon, victories of, . returns russian prisoners, . napoleon, remarks of, on paul i., . reply of, to alexander, . victorious at austerlitz, . letter of, to king of prussia, . exiled to elba, . signs the "holy alliance," . nepeia, the first russian embassador, . his reception in london, . nestor, record of, of the christians in constantinople, . nicholas, takes oath of allegiance to constantine, . ascends the throne, . puts down the rebellion, . power of, . assists turks against egypt, . crushes hungarian revolt, . defeated at sevastopol, . death of, . nijni novgorod, georges ii. founds the city of, . noble, requisite for becoming a, . normans, at first called scandinavians, . early power and discoveries of, . superior civilization of the, . notre dame, burial of ysiaslaf in, . novgorod, rurik establishes his court at, . annexed by georgievitch, . successful defense of, . rurik appointed prince of, . george sent to, to adjust the difficulties in, . o. octai succeeds genghis khan, . letter of, to the king of france, oleg, the guardian of igor, . assassinates ascolod and dir, . dominion of, . attempts a march upon constantinople, . the expedition, . his treaty with the greeks, . death of, . his popularity and labors for russia, . (son of sviatoslaf) receives the government of the drevliens, . defeated by yaropolk, . death of, . bones of, disinterred and baptised, . olga (wife of igor) assumes the regency, . she punishes the drevliens, . conversion of, to christianity, . baptised by the name of helen, . death of, . orlof (count) haughty behavior of, . ottoman porte, manifesto of the, . p. paganism in russia demolished at a blow, . paul i. (son of catharine) marriage of, . death of his wife, . visit of, to frederick, . marriage of, . travels of, . ignorance of, . extravagance of, . reëstablishment of ancient etiquette, . a horse court-martialed by, . reason for his caprices, . fury of, on learning his defeat, . letter of, to napoleon, . surrounding influences of, . conspiracy against, . assassination of, . pekin burned by the tartars, . pereaslavle, the territory of, given to vsevolod, . peregeslavetz, reconquered, and made the capital by sviatoslaf, . periaslavle, battle of the city of, . péroune, one of the gods of the russians, . the idol of, destroyed, . petchénègues, igor purchases peace with the, . sviatoslaf defeated by the, . peter i. (the great) marriage of, . attempted assassination of, . his return to moscow, . indications of greatness, . his passion for the ocean, . settles chinese difficulties, . captures azof, . resolves to travel incognito, . his attack on la fort, . his residence at zaandam, his recognition, . anecdotes of, . his thirst for knowledge, . visit to london, . return to moscow, . his reforms in the church, . change of the calendar, . troubles of, with sweden, . coolness on hearing of the defeat of his army, . founds st. petersburg, . captures marienburg, . meets catharine and privately marries her, . defeats charles xii., . demands of, on queen anne, . reply of anne to, . captures livonia, . desperate condition of, . public marriage of, . journeys of, . residence in paris, . letters of, to alexis, . arraigns his son for high treason, . effects a peace with sweden, . causes coronation of catharine, . death of, . inscription on the tomb of, . statue erected to, . peter ii., regency of, . death of, . peter iii., succeeds elizabeth, . early life of, and acquaintance with catharine, . determines to repudiate catharine, . alarm of, on the escape of catharine, . abject humiliation of, . abdication of, . assassination of, . peterhoff, the palace of, . philip (of macedon) conquers the scythians, . plague, devastations of the, . poland, aid from, to ysiaslaf, . stephen bathori elected king, . demands of, on russia, . conquests of, . conquests of alexis in, . death of the king of, . john sobieski chosen king of, . stanislaus leczinsky placed on the throne of, . degeneration of, . sliced by russia, austria and prussia, . rebellion in, . poles, rise of the, . polotsk, captured by vlademer, . polovtsi, the nation of, . pope (gregory vii.) promises to assist ysiaslaf, . letter of, to ysiaslaf, . letter of, to the king of poland, . pope (innocent iii.) his letter to the russian clergy, . poppel (nicholas) visit of, to russia, . solicits the daughter of ivan for albert of baden, . porphyrogenete, the emperor of constantinople, . pugatshef, conspiracy of, . execution of, . pultowa, battle of, . festival, . r. religion of the sclavonians, . republicanism, first indication of, . rogneda, refusal of, to marry vlademer, . forced to marry vlademer, . roman (prince of smolensk) appointed prince of novgorod, . romanow (michael feodor) elected emperor, . marriage of, . prosperous reign, and death, . rome purchases peace of the sarmatians, . romish church, its dominion over the greek church, rostislaf succeeds to the throne of russia, . driven from the throne by georges, . expels davidovitch from the throne, . death of, . rostof burned by georges, . rovgolod (governor of polotsk) his daughter demanded by vlademer, . death of, . rurik, sineous, and truvor, consent to govern scandinavia, . unites the territories of his brothers to his own, . death of, . his crown descends to igor, his son, . rurik (brother of andré) appointed prince of novgorod, . russia, history of, . after disappearance of the huns, . earliest reliable information of, . sudden rise of, from the sclavonians, . derivation of the name of, . confusion of, in consequence of the death of sviatoslaf, . united under yaropolk, . years of pence under vlademer, . division of the empire of, . calamity to, by the death of yaroslaf, . death penalty abolished in, . misery and suffering in, . vsevolod succeeds ysiaslaf in the government of, . sviatopolk assumes crown of, . abandoned to destruction, . monomaque offered crown of, . invaded by the caspian hordes, . mstislaf becomes emperor of, . famine and pestilence in, . throne of, seized by viatcheslaf, . throne of, seized by vsevolod, . throne of, demised to igor, . varied fortunes of, . rostislaf succeeds ysiaslaf in the government of, . georges secures the throne of, . mstislaf ysiaslavitch succeeds rostislaf as emperor of, . union of the princes of, . old feuds in, revived, . fall of the capital of, . andré succeeds mstislaf ysiaslavitch as emperor of, . andré becomes monarch of, . michel offered the throne of, . michel's reign over, . accession of vsevelod iii., . georges ascends the throne of, . famine in, . constantine ascends throne of, . georges ii. ascends throne of, . recapitulation of the establishment of the monarchy of, . subdivision of, . yaroslaf, prince of kief, ascends the throne of, . in the power of bati, . annihilated as a kingdom, . dmitri ascends the throne of, . andré ascends the throne of, . ceases to be a monarchy, . evils to, resulting from the death of andré, . michel succeeds andré, . georges of moscow succeeds michel, . alexander succeeds georges, . jean danielovitch succeeds alexander, . simeon succeeds danielovitch, . accession of ivanovitch, . accession of dmitri of souzdal, . accession of dmitri of moscow, . again brought under tartar rule, . vassali ascends the throne of, . vassali vassalievitch ascends the throne of, . ivan iii. ascends the throne of, . rise of, in estimation of europe, . invaded by the mogols, . alliance of, with hungary, . vassili ascends the throne of, . splendor of the court of, . invaded by sigismond, . hélène assumes the regency of, . vassali schouisky succeeds hélène in, . ivan schouisky succeeds vassali, . ivan belsky chosen regent of, . ivan iv. ascends the throne of, . news of the discovery of, arrives in england, . commerce with england, . the first embassador from, . livonia attached to, . peril of, . feodor ascends the throne of, . boris gudenow crowned, . griska crowned king of, . zuski elected emperor of, . ladislaus elected king of, . romanow elected emperor of, . alexis succeeds romanow, . feodor succeeds alexis, . sophia, as regent for ivan, succeeds feodor, . peter succeeds sophia, . catharine i. succeeds peter i., . peter ii. succeeds catharine i., . anne succeeds peter ii., . ivan v. succeeds anne, . elizabeth succeeds ivan v., . peter iii. succeeds elizabeth, . catharine ii., accession of, . desolation of, by the plague, . vast wealth of the court of, . judicial divisions of, . difficulties between turkey and, . paul i. succeeds catharine ii., alexander succeeds paul i., . absence of bookstores in, . treaty between france and, . nicholas succeeds alexander i., . extent of the territory of, . alexander ii. succeeds nicholas, . russians, description of the early, . their mode of warfare, . retreat of the, before akhmet, . "russian justice," the code called, drawn by yaroslaf, . s. samarcande destroyed by the tartars, . sarmatia, scythian name changed to, . scandinavians, called also normans, . see also normans. schevkal conquered by the tverians, . schlippenbuch (col.), heroism of, . schlit sent to induce emigration of illustrious men, . arrested by charles v., . schouisky (vassali) declares himself tzar; death of, . schouisky (ivan) succeeds his brother vassali, . dismissal of, . assassinates belsky and secures the regency, . sclavonians, conquests of the, . early religion of the, . send to the normans to demand a king, . schools introduction of, . character of the, . scythians, irruption of the, into russia, . character of the, . name changed to "sarmatians," . sevastopol, siege of, . siberia, position and character of, . sigismond (of poland) invades russia, . simeon (son of danielovitch) ascends the throne, (son of jean) acquires the title of the superb, . death of, . sineous, rurik, and truvor, consent to govern scandinavia, . death of, . slave, the use of the word abolished, slavery in russia, . slave trade, argument used for the, . sloutsk, burned by gleb, . smolensk, truvor establishes his court near, . gains territory of viatcheslaf, . flight of, ysiaslaf to, . sophia instigates a massacre, . appointed as regent, . quells an insurrection, . returns to moscow, . sends first embassador to france, . attempts to assassinate peter, . termination of the regency of, . insurrection headed by, . souzdal increasing civilization of, . sympathy of the people of, for sviatoslaf, . the country of, desolated, . staradoub, siege of, . st. petersburg, founding of, . arrival of first ship at, . swedes driven from, . the winter palace of, . st. sophia, burial of vsevolod in the church of, . succession, the russian right of, . suwarrow (gen.), character and origin of, . his hatred of the french, . vanquishes moreau, . utter defeat of, . sviatopolk (the miserable) seizes russia and kills his brothers, . defeated by yaroslaf, . drives yaroslaf from kief, . poisons the polish army, . driven from kief, . raises an army of petchénègues, . flight and death of, . sviatopolk assumes the government of russia, . defeat and flight of, . character and death of, . sviatoslaf, son of igor, . his opposition to embracing christianity, . assumes the crown, . his character and ambition, . conquers the khozars, . annexes bulgaria, . indulgencies of, . transfers his capital from kief to bulgaria, . the sons of, . reconquers peregeslavetz, . driven from bulgaria, . personal appearance of, . defeat of, by the petchénègues, and death of, . tchernigof given to, . death of, . sviatoslaf, (grandson of oleg) given the command of the troops of andré, . defeated at vouoychegorod, . sviatoslaf (prince of tchernigof) marches against vsevelod, . establishes his court at novgorod, . treaty of, with vsevelod, . marriage of, . sviatosolaf (brother of igor) attempts to recover the throne for igor, . conquered by ysiaslaf, . sylvestre, bold address of, to ivan iv., t. tamerlane invades russia, . history of, . tartars, reign of the, . plunder kief, . embrace mahommedanism, . defeat of the, by dmitri, . panic and retreat of the, . tchanibek assassinates his brother and assumes the tartar rule, . tchernigof, the territory of, given to sviatoslaf, . tchoudes, the, conquered by mstislaf, . temoutchin rise of, . assumes the name of genghis khan, . see genghis khan. theology, the tartars, . tilsit, peace of, . toleration in religion granted by oleg, . of vladimir, . trajan, province of dacia conquered by, . treaty of oleg with the greeks, . tribute exacted by the tartars, . truvor, rurik, and sineous, consent to govern scandinavia, . death of, . turkey overrun by the russians, . peace with, . treaty between, and russia, . turkish question, see eastern question. tzars, see chronology and russia. u. usbeck (king of the tartars) great hunting expedition of, . appoints alexander, son of michel, to the throne of russia, . death of, . v. vassali, succeeds yaroslaf, . death of, . dmitri succeeds, . ascends the throne, . death of, . vassalievitch ascends the throne, . deposed by youri, . returns to moscow, . capture of, . his eyes torn out, . re-captures moscow, . change in character of, death of, . vassian (archbishop of moscow) letter of, to ivan iii., . honor and death of, . (of kolumna) advice of, to ivan iv., . vassili (son of ivan iii.) marriage of, . ascends the throne, . treaty of, with the tartars, . embassage from, to the turks, . embassage from the turks to, . embassage from germany to, . unites with poland against the turks, . death of, . viatcheslaf, the territory of, given to smolensk, . viatcheslaf seizes the throne of kief, . surrender of, to vsevolod, . vlademer (illegitimate son of sviatoslaf) receives command of novgorod, . flight of, . he demands the daughter of rovgolod, . reply of rogneda to, . the mother of, . captures polotsk, kills rovgolod and marries rogneda, . captures kief, . assassinates yaropolk, . sacrifices children to idols, . conversion of, to christianity, . demands anne of constantinople as his bride, . marriage of, . his efforts to expel paganism, . toleration of, . excessive benevolence of, . death of, . sviatopolk succeeds him, . surrenders his crown to sviatopolk, . vladimir captured, . vladimirovitch invited to take the throne of russia, . death of, . voltaire, library of, purchased by catharine, . vouoychegorod, heroic defense of the fortress of, . vseslaf proclaimed king, . vsevolod, the territory of pereaslavle given to, . succeeds ysiaslaf, . character of, . death of, . vsevolod iii., accession of, to the russian throne, . seizes the embassadors of sviatoslaf, . seizes novgorod, . treaty with sviatoslaf, . expedition against bulgaria, . death of; wife of, . vsevolod (son of monomaque) expedition of, to finland, . establishes himself on the throne at kief, . death of . w. woman, indignities to which she was subjected, . y. yaropolk (son of sviatoslaf) receives the government of kief, . conquers oleg, . russia united under him, . the betrothed of, . assassinated, . the bones of, disinterred and baptized, . (son of monomaque), expedition to the don, . conquered by beauty, , marriage of, . captures gleb, burns droutsk, . yaroslaf, march of, against his brother sviatopolk, . defeats sviatopolk, . driven from kief, . drives sviatopolk from kief, . conquers him on the banks of the alta, . secures the government of russia, . prosperity of russia under the rule of, . attempts of, to educate the russians, . letter of, to his children, and bequests of, . death of, . works of, . yaroslaf (prince of kief) ascends the russian throne, . energy and nobility of, . commanded to appear before bati, . sent to octai, . death of, . yaroslaf (of tiver) succeeds alexander, . accused by the people, . humiliation of, and exile, . sends embassadors to the tartars; death of, . vassali succeeds, . youri captures moscow and deposes vassili, . death of, . ysiaslaf i. (son of yaroslaf) nominated emperor of russia by his father, . troubles and flight of, . his reception in poland, . his punishment of kief, . flight of, to germany, . implores aid of the pope, . recovers his kingdom, . death of, . ysiaslaf ii. seizes the throne of russia, . conquers sviatoslaf, . his address to the novgorodians, . conquered by georges, . flight of, to smolensk, . varied fortunes of, . death of, . z. zerebrinow, routs the turks at azof, . zuski heads an insurrection, . elected emperor by the people, . death of, . transcriber's notes: many place names are spelled differently in different locations in this book; in most cases, these variations in spelling have been retained. there is a long list of corrections made to typos and spelling (to make the spelling of names consistent throughout the book): table of contents chapter vi title: "ghenghis kahn" corrected to "genghis khan". table of contents chapter vi description - "ghenghis" corrected to "genghis" twice. table of contents and chapter heading - chapter xiv: "conquest of astruchan" corrected to "conquest of astrachan". (city is spelled astrachan consistently in the text.) table of contents and chapter heading - chapter xv: changed "zebrinow" to "zerebrinow". (as spelled in body text and index.) chapter ii heading - "flight of vladimer" - name corrected to "vlademer". page : tribe "drevlians" mis-spelled "drevolians". page : "generel" corrected to "general". chapter iii heading (page ), and page : "valdemer" corrected to "vlademer". page : "consideraiton" corrected to "consideration", also "sain" to "saint". page : "assasinated" corrected to "assassinated". page : "incribed" corrected to "inscribed". page : "yaroslave" corrected to "yaroslavle". page : "pope beniot xii" corrected to "benoit". page : "guttenberg" corrected to "gutenberg". page : "neccessity" changed to "necessity". page : "sufficent" changed to "sufficient". page : "forgotton" corrected to "forgotten". page : "ghengis khan" corrected to "genghis". page : "apppointed" corrected to "appointed". page : "erie xiv" corrected to "eric" (king of sweden). page : "stanislaus leczinsky" corrected to "leszczynski". page : "difficuly" corrected to "difficulty". page : "adolpus frederic" corrected to "adolphus frederic" (king of sweden). page : "acceptd" corrected to "accepted". page : "slide door" corrected to "side door". page : "is" corrected to "it", in phrase "it was floated down the river". page : "cathraine" corrected to "catharine". page : "desirious" corrected to "desirous". page : "aids" corrected to "aides". page : "aginst" corrected to "against". page : "promulated" corrected to "promulgated". page : "allgiance" corrected to "allegiance". page : "mediteranean" corrected to "mediterranean". corrections made to the index: . alexis (son of peter the great), flight of, should be page , not p. . . ysiaslaf succeeds igor, believe it should be page , not p. . . nicholas defeated at sevastopol, should be page , not p. . . ladislaus elected king of russia, should be page , not p. . . vsevolod, the territory of pereaslavle given to, name of territory was mis-spelled "pereaslable". . catherine mis-spelled and corrected to catharine, places. a) catherine i succeeds peter i in russia, history of. b) next line, peter ii succeds catherine i. c) several lines below # , acension of catherine ii. d) several lines below # , paul i succeeds catherine ii. . dimsdale (dr. thomas) introduces inoculation, . was mis-spelled "dinsdale". . dmitry declines the throne, . was mis-spelled "dimitry". . peter i captures marienburg; corrected from "marienberg". . chronolgy of russia: early ruler "rurik" misspelled "rurick" here; corrected twice. . bulgaria conquered by sviataslaf, . corrected to "sviatoslaf". . "alexander (nevski) puts down a rebellion..." corrected to nevsky. . "droutsk burned by yaropolok" corrected to yaropolk. . "gleb (prince of muisk)" corrected to minsk. . "oleg defeated by yarpolk, " corrected to yaropolk, and page . . peter i., his residence at zaardam, corrected to zaandam. . poland, stanislaus seczinsky placed on the throne of, . corrected to leczinsky. . russia, united under yarpolk, . changed to yaropolk. . russia, rostislaf succeeds ysiaslas in the government of, . corrected to ysiaslaf. . russia, mistislaf ysiaslavitch succeeds rostislaf as emperor of, . corrected to mstislaf ( places). . russia, vassali schouski succeeds helene in, ; also ivan schouski succeeds vassali, . in both cases, corrected to schouisky. . sviatosolf (brother of igor) attempts to recover the throne for igor, . corrected to sviatosolaf. . instances of "helene" corrected to hélène. . instances of "petchenegues" corrected to petchénègues. transcriber's note: minor typographical errors in the original text have been corrected and footnotes moved to the end of the book. bolshevism the enemy of political and industrial democracy by john spargo author of "social democracy explained" "socialism, a summary and interpretation of socialist principles" "applied socialism" etc. harper & brothers publishers new york and london * * * * * * * books by john spargo bolshevism americanism and social democracy social democracy explained harper & brothers, new york established * * * * * * * contents preface i. the historical background ii. from revolution to revolution iii. the war and the people iv. the second revolution v. from bourgeoisie to bolsheviki vi. the bolshevik war against democracy vii. bolshevist theory and practice postscriptum: a personal statement appendices: i. an appeal to the proletariat by the petrograd workmen's and soldiers' council ii. how the russian peasants fought for a constituent assembly iii. former socialist premier of finland on bolshevism preface in the following pages i have tried to make a plain and easily understandable outline of the origin, history, and meaning of bolshevism. i have attempted to provide the average american reader with a fair and reliable statement of the philosophy, program, and policies of the russian bolsheviki. in order to avoid confusion, and to keep the matter as simple and clear as possible, i have not tried to deal with the numerous manifestations of bolshevism in other lands, but have confined myself strictly to the russian example. with some detail--too much, some of my readers may think!--i have sketched the historical background in order that the bolsheviki may be seen in proper perspective and fairly judged in connection with the whole revolutionary movement in russia. whoever turns to these pages in the expectation of finding a sensational "exposure" of bolshevism and the bolsheviki will be disappointed. it has been my aim to make a deliberate and scientific study, not an _ex-parte_ indictment. a great many lurid and sensational stories about the bolsheviki have been published, the net result of which is to make the leaders of this phase of the great universal war of the classes appear as brutal and depraved monsters of iniquity. there is not a crime known to mankind, apparently, of which they have not been loudly declared to be guilty. my long experience in the socialist movement has furnished me with too much understanding of the manner and extent to which working-class movements are abused and slandered to permit me to accept these stories as gospel truth. that experience has forced me to assume that most of the terrible stories told about the bolsheviki are either untrue and without any foundation in fact or greatly exaggerated. the "rumor factories" in geneva, stockholm, copenhagen, the hague, and other european capitals, which were so busy during the war fabricating and exploiting for profit stories of massacres, victories, assassinations, revolutions, peace treaties, and other momentous events, which subsequent information proved never to have happened at all, seem now to have turned their attention to the bolsheviki. however little of a cynic one may be, it is almost impossible to refrain from wondering at the fact that so many writers and journals that in the quite recent past maintained absolute silence when the czar and his minions were committing their infamous outrages against the working-people and their leaders, and that were never known to protest against the many crimes committed by our own industrial czars against our working-people and their leaders--that these writers and journals are now so violently denouncing the bolsheviki for alleged inhumanities. when the same journals that defended or apologized for the brutal lynchings of i.w.w. agitators and the savage assaults committed upon other peaceful citizens whose only crime was exercising their lawful and moral right to organize and strike for better wages, denounce the bolsheviki for their "brutality" and their "lawlessness" and cry for vengeance upon them, honest and sincere men become bitter and scornful. i am not a bolshevik or a defender of the bolsheviki. as a social democrat and internationalist of many years' standing--and therefore loyal to america and american ideals--i am absolutely opposed to the principles and practices of the bolsheviki, which, from the very first, i have regarded and denounced as an inverted form of czarism. it is quite clear to my mind, however, that there can be no good result from wild abuse or from misrepresentation of facts and motives. i am convinced that the stupid campaign of calumny which has been waged against the bolsheviki has won for them the sympathy of many intelligent americans who love fairness and hate injustice. in this way lying and abuse react against those who indulge in them. in this study i have completely ignored the flood of newspaper stories of bolshevist "outrages" and "crimes" which has poured forth during the past year. i have ignored, too, the remarkable collection of documents edited and annotated by mr. sisson and published by the united states committee on public information. i do not doubt that there is much that is true in that collection of documents--indeed, there is some corroboration of some of them--but the means of determining what is true and what false are not yet available to the student. so much doubt and suspicion is reasonably and properly attached to some of the documents that the value of the whole mass is greatly impaired. to rely upon these documents to make a case against the bolsheviki, unless and until they have been more fully investigated and authenticated than they appear to have been as yet, and corroborated, would be like relying upon the testimony of an unreliable witness to convict a man serious crime. that the bolsheviki have been guilty of many crimes is certain. ample evidence of that fact will be found in the following pages. they have committed many crimes against men and women whose splendid service to the russian revolutionary movement serves only to accentuate the crimes in question. but their worst crimes have been against political and social democracy, which they have shamefully betrayed and opposed with as little scruple, and as much brutal injustice, as was ever manifested by the romanovs. this is a terrible charge, i know, but i believe that the most sympathetic toward the bolsheviki among my readers will, if they are candid, admit that it is amply sustained by the evidence. concerning that evidence it is perhaps necessary to say that i have confined myself to the following: official documents issued by the bolshevist government; the writings and addresses of accredited bolshevik leaders and officials--in the form in which they have been published by the bolsheviki themselves; the declarations of russian socialist organizations of long and honorable standing in the international socialist movement; the statements of equally well-known and trusted russian socialists, and of responsible russian socialist journals. while i have indicated the sources of most of the evidence against the bolsheviki, either in the text itself or in the foot-notes and references, i have not thought it advisable to burden my pages with such foot-notes and references concerning matters of general knowledge. to have given references and authorities for all the facts summarized in the historical outlines, for example, would have been simply a show of pedantry and served only to frighten away the ordinary reader. i have been deeply indebted to the works of other writers, among which i may mention the following: peter kropotkin's _memoirs of a revolutionist_ and _ideals and realities of russian literature_; s. stepniak's _underground russia_; leo deutsch's _sixteen years in siberia_; alexander ular's _russia from within_; william english walling's _russia's message_; zinovy n. preev's _the russian riddle_; maxim litvinov's _the bolshevik revolution: its rise and meaning_; m.j. olgin's _the soul of the russian revolution_; a.j. sack's _the birth of russian democracy_; e.a. ross's _russia in upheaval_; isaac don levine's _the russian revolution_; bessie beatty's _the red heart of russia_; louise bryant's _six red months in russia_; leon trotzky's _our revolution_ and _the bolsheviki and world peace_; gabriel domergue's _la russe rouge_; nikolai lenine's _the soviets at work_; zinoviev and lenine's _sozialismus und krieg_; emile vandervelde's _trois aspects de la révolution russe_; p.g. chesnais's _la révolution et la paix_ and _les bolsheviks_. i have also freely availed myself of the many admirable translations of official bolshevist documents published in _the class struggle_, of new york, a pro-bolshevist magazine; the collection of documents published by _the nation_, of new york, a journal exceedingly generous in its treatment of bolshevism and the bolsheviki; and of the mass of material published in its excellent "international notes" by _justice_, of london, the oldest socialist newspaper in the english language, i believe, and one of the most ably edited. grateful acknowledgment is hereby made of friendly service rendered and valuable information given by mr. alexander kerensky, former premier of russia; mr. henry l. slobodin, of new york; mr. a.j. sack, director of the russian information bureau in the united states; dr. boris takavenko, editor of _la russia nuova_, rome, italy; mr. william english walling, new york; and my friend, father cahill, of bennington. among the appendices at the end of the volume will be found some important documents containing some contemporary russian socialist judgments of bolshevism. these documents are, i venture to suggest, of the utmost possible value and importance to the student and general reader. john spargo, "nestledown," old bennnigton, vermont, _end of january, _. bolshevism chapter i the historical background i for almost a full century russia has been the theater of a great revolutionary movement. in the light of russian history we read with cynical amusement that in , when all europe was in a revolutionary ferment, a german economist confidently predicted that revolutionary agitation could not live in the peculiar soil of russian civilization. august franz von haxthausen was in many respects a competent and even a profound student of russian politics, but he was wrong in his belief that the amount of rural communism existing in russia, particularly the _mir_, would make it impossible for storms of revolutionary agitation to arise and stir the national life. as a matter of historical fact, the ferment of revolution had appeared in the land of the czars long before the german economist made his remarkably ill-judged forecast. at the end of the napoleonic wars many young officers of the russian army returned to their native land full of revolutionary ideas and ideals acquired in france, italy, and germany, and intent upon action. at first their intention was simply to make an appeal to alexander i to grant self-government to russia, which at one time he had seemed disposed to do. soon they found themselves engaged in a secret conspiratory movement having for its object the overthrow of czarism. the story of the failure of these romanticists, the manner in which the abortive attempt at revolution in december, , was suppressed, and how the leaders were punished by nicholas i--these things are well known to most students of russian history. the decembrists, as they came to be called, failed, as they were bound to do, but it would be a mistake to suppose that their efforts were altogether vain. on the contrary, their inspiration was felt throughout the next thirty years and was reflected in the literature of the period. during that period russian literature was tinged with the faith in social regeneration held by most of the cultured intellectual classes. the decembrists were the spiritual progenitors of the russian revolutionary movement of our time. in the writings of pushkin--himself a decembrist--lermontoff, gogol, turgeniev, dostoyevsky, and many others less well known, the influence of the decembrist movement is clearly manifested. if we are to select a single figure as the founder of the modern social revolutionary movement in russia, that title can be applied to alexander herzen with greater fitness than to any other. his influence upon the movement during many years was enormous. herzen was half-german, his mother being german. he was born at moscow in , shortly before the french occupation of the city. his parents were very rich and he enjoyed the advantages of a splendid education, as well as great luxury. at twenty-two years of age he was banished to a small town in the urals, where he spent six years, returning to moscow in . it is noteworthy that the offense for which he had been sent into exile was the singing of songs in praise of the decembrist martyrs. this occurred at a meeting of one of the "students' circles" founded by herzen for the dissemination of revolutionary socialist ideals among the students. upon his return to moscow in herzen, together with bakunin and other friends, again engaged in revolutionary propaganda and in he was again exiled. in , through the influence of powerful friends, he received permission to leave russia for travel abroad. he never again saw his native land, all the remaining years of life being spent in exile. after a tour of italy, herzen arrived in paris on the eve of the revolution of , joining there his friends, bakunin and turgeniev, and many other revolutionary leaders. it was impossible for him to participate actively in the uprising, owing to the activity of the paris police, but he watched the revolution with the profoundest sympathy. and when it failed and was followed by the terrible reaction his distress was almost unbounded. for a brief period he was the victim of the most appalling pessimism, but after a time his faith returned and he joined with proudhon in issuing a radical revolutionary paper, _l'ami du peuple_, of which, kropotkin tells us in his admirable study of russian literature, "almost every number was confiscated by the police of napoleon the third." the paper had a very brief life, and herzen himself was soon expelled from france, going to switzerland, of which country he became a citizen. in herzen settled in london, where he published for some years a remarkable paper, called _kolokol (the bell)_, in which he exposed the iniquities and shortcomings of czarism and inspired the youth of russia with his revolutionary ideals. the paper had to be smuggled into russia, of course, and the manner in which the smuggling was done is one of the most absorbing stories in all the tragic history of the vast land of the czars. herzen was a charming writer and a keen thinker, and it is impossible to exaggerate the extent of his influence. but when the freedom of the serfs, for which he so vigorously contended, was promulgated by alexander ii, and other extensive reforms were granted, his influence waned. he died in in switzerland. ii alexander ii was not alone in hoping that the act of liberation would usher in a new era of prosperity and tranquillity for russia. many of the most radical of the intelligentsia, followers of herzen, believed that russia was destined to outstrip the older nations of western europe in its democracy and its culture. it was not long before disillusionment came: the serfs were set free, but the manner in which the land question had been dealt with made their freedom almost a mockery. as a result there were numerous uprisings of peasants--riots which the government suppressed in the most sanguinary manner. from that time until the present the land question has been the core of the russian problem. every revolutionary movement has been essentially concerned with giving the land to the peasants. within a few months after the liberation of the serfs the revolutionary unrest was so wide-spread that the government became alarmed and instituted a policy of vigorous repression. progressive papers, which had sprung up as a result of the liberal tendencies characterizing the reign of alexander ii thus far, were suppressed and many of the leading writers were imprisoned and exiled. among those thus punished was that brilliant writer, tchernyshevsky, to whom the russian movement owes so much. his _contemporary review_ was, during the four critical years - the principal forum for the discussion of the problems most vital to the life of russia. in it the greatest leaders of russian thought discussed the land question, co-operation, communism, popular education, and similar subjects. this served a twofold purpose: in the first place, it brought to the study of the pressing problems of the time the ablest and best minds of the country; secondly, it provided these intellectuals with a bond of union and stimulus to serve the poor and the oppressed. that alexander ii had been influenced to sign the emancipation act by tchernyshevsky and his friends did not cause the authorities to spare tchernyshevsky when, in , he engaged in active socialist propaganda. he was arrested and imprisoned in a fortress, where he wrote the novel which has so profoundly influenced two generations of discontented and protesting russians--_what is to be done?_ in form a novel of thrilling interest, this work was really an elaborate treatise upon russian social conditions. it dealt with the vexed problems of marriage and divorce, the land question, co-operative production, and other similar matters, and the solutions it suggested for these problems became widely accepted as the program of revolutionary russia. few books in any literature have ever produced such a profound impression, or exerted as much influence upon the life of a nation. in the following year, , tchernyshevsky was exiled to hard labor in siberia, remaining there until , when he returned to russia. he lived only six years longer, dying in . the attempt made by a young student to assassinate alexander ii, on april , , was seized upon by the czar and his advisers as an excuse for instituting a policy of terrible reaction. the most repressive measures were taken against the intelligentsia and all the liberal reforms which had been introduced were practically destroyed. it was impossible to restore serfdom, of course, but the condition of the peasants without land was even worse than if they had remained serfs. excessive taxation, heavy redemption charges, famine, crop failures, and other ills drove the people to desperation. large numbers of students espoused the cause of the peasants and a new popular literature appeared in which the sufferings of the people were portrayed with fervor and passion. in - there were numerous demonstrations and riots by way of protest against the reactionary policy of the government. it was at this time that michael bakunin, from his exile in switzerland, conspired with nechaiev to bring about a great uprising of the peasants, through the society for the liberation of the people. bakunin advised the students to leave the universities and to go among the people to teach them and, at the same time, arouse them to revolt. it was at this time, too, that nicholas tchaykovsky and his friends, the famous circle of tchaykovsky, began to distribute among students in all parts of the empire books dealing with the condition of the peasants and proposing remedies therefor. this work greatly influenced the young intelligentsia, but the immediate results among the peasants were not very encouraging. even the return from switzerland, by order of the government, of hundreds of students who were disciples of bakunin and peter lavrov did not produce any great success. very soon a new organization appeared. the remnant of the circle tchaykovsky, together with some followers of bakunin, formed a society called the land and freedom society. this society, which was destined to exert a marked influence upon revolutionary russia, was the most ambitious revolutionary effort russia had known. the society had a constitution and a carefully worked out program. it had one special group to carry on propaganda among students; another to agitate among the peasants; and a third to employ armed force against the government and against those guilty of treachery toward the society. the basis of the society was the conviction that russia needed an economic revolution; that only an economic revolution, starting with the producers, could overthrow czarism and establish the ideal state of society. the members of this land and freedom society divided their work into four main divisions: ( ) agitation--passive and active. passive agitation included strikes, petitions for reforms, refusal to pay taxes, and so on. active agitation meant riots and uprisings. ( ) organization--the formation of a fighting force prepared to bring about a general uprising. ( ) education--the spreading of revolutionary knowledge and ideas, a continuation of the work of the tchaykovsky circle. ( ) secularization--the carrying on of systematic work against the orthodox church through special channels. one of the early leaders of this society was george plechanov, who later founded the russian social democracy and gave to the russian revolutionary movement its marxian character, inspiring such men as nikolai lenine and leon trotzky, among many others. the society did not attain any very great amount of success in its efforts to reach the peasants, and it was that fact more than any other which determined plechanov's future course. iii when the failure of the land and freedom methods became evident, and the government became more and more oppressive, desperate individuals and groups resorted to acts of terrorism. it was thus that vera zasulich attempted the assassination of the infamous chief of police trepov. the movement to temper czarism by assassination systematically pursued was beginning. in the land and freedom society held a conference for the purpose of discussing its program. a majority favored resorting to terroristic tactics; plechanov and a few other well-known revolutionists were opposed--favoring the old methods. the society split, the majority becoming known as the will of the people and adopting a terroristic program. this organization sentenced czar alexander ii to death and several unsuccessful attempts were made to carry out the sentence. the leaders believed that the assassination of the czar would give rise to a general revolution throughout the whole of russia. in february, , occurred the famous attempt to blow up the winter palace. for a time it seemed that the czar had learned the lesson the will of the people sought to teach him, and that he would institute far-reaching reforms. pursuing a policy of vacillation and fear, however, alexander ii soon fell back into the old attitude. on march , , a group of revolutionists, among them sophia perovskaya, made another attempt upon his life, succeeding, at first, only in damaging the bottom of the czar's carriage and wounding a number of cossack soldiers. "thank god, i am untouched," said the czar, in response to the inquiry of an officer of his guard. "it's too soon to thank god!" cried n.i. grinevitsky, hurling a bomb at the czar. within a short time alexander ii and his assailant were both dead. the assassination of alexander ii was a tragic event for russia. on the very morning of his death the ill-fated monarch had approved a plan for extensive reforms presented by the liberal minister, loris-melikoff. it had been decided to call a conference three days later and to invite a number of well-known public men to co-operate in introducing the reforms. these reforms would not have been far-reaching enough to satisfy the revolutionists, but they would certainly have improved the situation and given russia a new hope. that hope died with alexander ii. his son, alexander iii, had always been a pronounced reactionary and had advised his father against making any concessions to the agitators. it was not surprising, therefore, that he permitted himself to be advised against the liberals by the most reactionary bureaucrats in the empire, and to adopt the most oppressive policies. the new czar was greatly influenced by his former tutor, the reactionary bureaucrat pobiedonostzev. at first it was believed that out of respect for his father's memory alexander iii would carry out the program of reforms formulated by loris-melikoff, as his father had promised to do. in a manifesto issued on the th of april, , alexander iii promised to do this, but in the same document there were passages which could only be interpreted as meaning that all demands for constitutional reform would be resisted and absolutism upheld at all cost. doubtless it was due to the influence of pobiedonostzev, procurator of the holy synod, that alexander iii soon abandoned all intention of carrying out his father's wishes in the matter of reform and instituted such reactionary policies that the peasants feared that serfdom was to be restored. a terrible persecution of the jews was begun, lasting for several years. the poles, too, felt the oppressive hand of pobiedonostzev. the latter was mastered by the slavophil philosophy that the revolutionary unrest in russia was traceable to the diversity of races, languages, and religions. he believed that nihilism, anarchism, and socialism flourished because the people were cosmopolitan rather than nationalistic in experience and feeling, and that peace and stability could come only from the persistent and vigorous development of the three principles of nationality, orthodoxy, and autocracy as the basis of the state. in this doctrine we have the whole explanation of the reactionary policy of alexander iii. in the manifesto of april th was announced the czar's determination to strengthen and uphold autocracy. that was the foundation stone. to uphold orthodoxy was the next logical necessity, for autocracy and orthodoxy were, in russia, closely related. hence the non-orthodox sects--such as the finnish protestants, german lutherans, polish roman catholics, the jews, and the mohammedans--were increasingly restricted in the observance of their religion. they might not build new places of worship; their children could not be educated in the faith of their parents. in many cases children were taken away from their parents in order to be sent to schools where they would be inculcated with the orthodox faith. in a similar way, every attempt was made to suppress the use of languages other than russian. along with this attempt to force the whole population into a single mold went a determined resistance to liberalism in all its forms. all this was accompanied by a degree of efficiency in the police service quite unusual in russia, with the result that the terroristic tactics of the will of the people party were unavailing, except in the cases of a few minor officials. plots to assassinate the czar were laid, but they were generally betrayed to the police. the most serious of these plots, in march, , led to the arrest of all the conspirators. in the mean time there had appeared the first definite marxian social democratic group in russia. plechanov, vera zasulich, leo deutsch, and other russian revolutionists in switzerland formed the organization known as the group for the emancipation of labor. this organization was based upon the principles and tactics of marxian socialism and sought to create a purely proletarian movement. as we have seen, when revolutionary terrorism was at its height plechanov and his disciples had proclaimed its futility and pinned their faith to the nascent class of industrial wage-workers. in the early 'eighties this class was so small in russia that it seemed to many of the best and clearest minds of the revolutionary movement quite hopeless to rely upon it. plechanov was derided as a mere theorist and closet philosopher, but he never wavered in his conviction that socialism must come in russia as the natural outcome of capitalist development. by means of a number of scholarly polemics against the principles and tactics of the will of the people party, plechanov gathered to his side of the controversy a group of very brilliant and able disciples, and so laid the basis for the social democratic labor party. with the relatively rapid expansion of capitalism, beginning with the year , and the inevitable increase of the city proletariat, the marxian movement made great progress. a strong labor-union movement and a strong political socialist movement were thus developed side by side. at the same time there was a revival of terrorism, the one available reply of the oppressed to brutal autocracy. while the marxian movement made headway among the industrial workers, the older terroristic movement made headway among the peasants. various groups appeared in different parts of the country. when alexander iii died, at the end of , both movements had developed considerable strength. working in secret and subject to terrible measures of repression, their leaders being constantly imprisoned and exiled, these two wings of the russian revolutionary movement were gathering strength in preparation for an uprising more extensive and serious than anything that had hitherto been attempted. whenever a new czar ascended the throne in russia it was the fashion to hope for some measure of reform and for a degree of liberality. frequently, as in the case of alexander iii, all such hopes were speedily killed, but repeated experiences of the kind did not prevent the birth of new hopes with the death of successive czars. when, therefore, alexander iii was succeeded by his son, nicholas ii, liberal russia expectantly awaited the promulgation of constitutional reforms. in this they were doomed to disappointment, just as they had been on the occasion of the accession of the new czar's immediate predecessor. nicholas ii was evidently going to be quite as reactionary as his father was. this was made manifest in a number of ways. when a deputation from one of the zemstvos, which congratulated him upon his ascension to the throne, expressed the hope that he would listen to "the voice of the people and the expression of its desires," the reply of the new czar was a grim warning of what was to come. nicholas ii told the zemstvos that he intended to follow the example of his father and uphold the principles of absolutism, and that any thought of participation by the zemstvos or other organizations of the people in state affairs was a senseless dream. more significant still, perhaps, was the fact that the hated pobiedonostzev was retained in power. the revolutionists were roused as they had not been for a decade or more. some of the leaders believed that the new reign of reaction would prove to be the occasion and the opportunity for bringing about a union of all the revolutionary forces, anarchists and socialists alike, peasants and industrial workers. this hope was destined to fail, but there was an unmistakable revolutionary awakening. in the latter part of january, , an open letter to nicholas ii was smuggled into the country from switzerland and widely distributed. it informed the czar that the socialists would fight to the bitter end the hateful order of things which he was responsible for creating, and menacingly said, "it will not be long before you find yourself entangled by it." iv in one respect nicholas ii differed from alexander iii--he was by nature more humane and sentimental. like his father, he was thoroughly dominated by pobiedonostzev's theory that russia, in order to be secure and stable, must be based upon nationality, orthodoxy, and autocracy. he wanted to see holy russia homogeneous and free from revolutionary disturbances. but his sensitive nature shrank from the systematic persecution of the non-orthodox sects and the jews, and he quietly intimated to the officials that he would not approve its continuance. at the same time, he was not willing to face the issue squarely and openly announce a change of policy or restore religious freedom. that would have meant the overthrow of pobiedonostzev and the czar's emancipation from his sinister influence, and for that nicholas ii lacked the necessary courage and stamina. cowardice and weakness of the will characterized his reign from the very beginning. when the officials, in obedience to their ruler's wishes, relaxed the severity which had marked the treatment of the jews and the non-orthodox christian sects, the change was soon noted by the victims and once more there was a revival of hope. but the efforts of the finns to secure a modification of the russification policy were quite fruitless. when a deputation was sent from finland to represent to the czar that the rights and privileges solemnly reserved to them at the time of the annexation were being denied to the people of finland, nicholas ii refused to grant the deputation an audience. instead of getting relief, the people of finland soon found that the oppression steadily increased. it was evident that finnish nationality was to be crushed out, if possible, in the interest of russian homogeneity. it soon became apparent, moreover, that pobiedonostzev was to enjoy even more power than he had under alexander iii. in proportion as the character of nicholas ii was weaker than that of his father, the power of the procurator of the holy synod was greater. and there was a superstitious element in the mentality of the new czar which pobiedonostzev played upon with infinite cunning. he ruled the weak-willed czar and filled the ministries with men who shared his views and upon whom he could rely. notwithstanding the czar's expressed wishes, he soon found ways and means to add to the persecutions of the jews and the various non-orthodox christian sects. in his determination to hammer the varied racial groups into a homogeneous nation, he adopted terrible measures and so roused the hatred of the finns, armenians, georgians, and other subject peoples, stirring among them passionate resentment and desire for revolutionary action. it is impossible to conceive of a policy more dangerous to the dynasty than was conceived and followed by this fanatical russophil. the poles were persecuted and forced, in sheer despair, and by self-interest, into the revolutionary movement. armenians were persecuted and their church lands and church funds confiscated; so they, too, were forced into the revolutionary current. worse than all else was the cruel persecution of the jews. not only were they compelled to live within the pale of settlement, but this was so reduced that abominable congestion and poverty resulted. intolerable restrictions were placed upon the facilities for education in the secondary schools, the gymnasia, and in the universities. it was hoped in this way to destroy the intellectual leadership of the jews. pogroms were instigated, stirring the civilized world to protest at the horrible outrages. the minister of the interior, von plehve, proclaimed his intention to "drown the revolution in jewish blood," while pobiedonostzev's ambition was "to force one-third of the jews to conversion, another third to emigrate"--to escape persecution. the other third he expected to die of hunger and misery. when leo tolstoy challenged these infamies, and called upon the civilized world on behalf of the victims, the holy synod denounced tolstoy and his followers as a sect "especially dangerous for the orthodox church and the state." later, in , the holy synod excommunicated tolstoy from the orthodox church. the fatal logic of fanatical fury led to attacks upon the zemstvos. these local organizations had been instituted in , by alexander ii, in the liberal years of his reign. elected mainly by the landlords and the peasants, they were a vital part of the life of the nation. possessing no political powers or functions, having nothing to do with legislation, they were important agencies of local government. the representatives of each county constituted a county-zemstvo and the representatives elected by all the county-zemstvos in a province constituted a province-zemstvo. both types concerned themselves with much the same range of activities. they built roads and telegraph stations; they maintained model farms and agricultural experiment stations similar to those maintained by our state governments. they maintained schools, bookstores, and libraries: co-operative stores; hospitals and banks. they provided the peasants with cheap credit, good seeds, fertilizers, agricultural implements, and so forth. in many cases they provided for free medical aid to the peasants. in some instances they published newspapers and magazines. it must be remembered that the zemstvos were the only representative public bodies elected by any large part of the people. while the suffrage was quite undemocratic, being so arranged that the landlords were assured a majority over the peasants at all times, nevertheless they did perform a great democratic service. but for them, life would have been well-nigh impossible for the peasant. in addition to the services already enumerated, these civic bodies were the relief agencies of the empire, and when crop failures brought famine to the peasants it was always the zemstvos which undertook the work of relief. hampered at every point, denied the right to control the schools they created and maintained, inhibited by law from discussing political questions, the zemstvos, nevertheless, became the natural channels for the spreading of discontent and opposition to the régime through private communication and discussion. to bureaucrats of the type of pobiedonostzev and von plehve, with their fanatical belief in autocracy, these organizations of the people were so many plague spots. not daring to suppress them altogether, they determined to restrict them at every opportunity. some of the zemstvos were suspended and disbanded for certain periods of time. individual members were exiled for utterances which von plehve regarded as dangerous. the power of the zemstvos themselves was lessened by taking from them such important functions as the provisioning of famine-stricken districts and by limiting in the most arbitrary manner the amount of the budget permitted to each zemstvo. since every decision of the zemstvos was subject to veto by the governors of the respective provinces, the government had at all times a formidable weapon at hand to use in its fight against the zemstvos. this weapon von plehve used with great effect; the most reasonable actions of the zemstvos were vetoed for no other reason than hatred of any sort of representative government. v the result of all this was to drive the zemstvos toward the revolutionary movements of the peasants and the city workers. that the zemstvos were not naturally inclined to radicalism and revolution needs no demonstration. economic interest, tradition, and environment all conspired to keep these popular bodies conservative. landowners were always in the majority and in general the zemstvos reflected the ideas and ideals of the enlightened wealthy and cultivated classes. the peasant representatives in the zemstvos were generally peasants of the most successful and prosperous type, hating the revolutionists and all their works. by means of a policy incredibly insane these conservatively inclined elements of the population were goaded to revolt. the newspapers and magazines of the zemstvos became more and more critical of the government, more and more outspoken in denunciation of existing conditions. presently, the leaders of the zemstvos followed the example of the revolutionists and held a secret convention at which a program for common action was agreed upon. thus they were resorting to illegal methods, exactly as the socialists had done. finally, many of the liberal zemstvo leaders formed themselves into a political party--the union of liberation--with a special organ of its own, called _emancipation_. this organ, edited by the brilliant and courageous peter struve, was published in stuttgart, germany, and, since its circulation in russia was forbidden, it had to be smuggled into the country and secretly circulated, just as the revolutionary socialist journals were. thus another bond was established between two very different movements. as was inevitable, revolutionary terrorism enormously increased. in the cities the working-men were drawn mainly into the social democratic working-men's party, founded by plechanov and others in , but the peasants, in so far as they were aroused at all, rallied around the standard of the socialist-revolutionists, successors to the will of the people party. this party was peculiarly a party of the peasants, just as the party of plechanov was peculiarly a party of industrial workers. it emphasized the land question above all else. it naturally scorned the view, largely held by the marxists in the other party, that russia must wait until her industrial development was perfected before attempting to realize socialism. it scorned the slow, legalistic methods and resolutely answered the terrorism of czarism by a terrorism of the people. it maintained a special department for carrying on this grim work. its central committee passed sentences of death upon certain officials, and its decrees were carried out by the members of its fighting organization. to this organization within the party belonged many of the ablest and most consecrated men and women in russia. a few illustrations will suffice to make clear the nature of this terroristic retaliation: in march, , sypiagin, the minister of the interior, was shot down as he entered his office by a member of the fighting organization, stephen balmashev, who was disguised as an officer. sypiagin had been duly sentenced to death by the central committee. he had been responsible for upward of sixty thousand political arrests and for the suffering of many exiles. balmashev went to his death with heroic fortitude. in may, , gregory gershuni and two associates executed the reactionary governor of ufa. early in june, , borikov, governor-general of finland, was assassinated by a revolutionist. a month later, july th, the infamous von plehve, who had been judged by the central committee and held responsible for the kishinev pogrom, was killed by a bomb thrown under the wheels of his carriage by sazanov, a member of the fighting force. the death of this cruel tyrant thrilled the world. in february, , ivan kaliaiev executed the death sentence which had been passed upon the ruthless governor-general of moscow, the grand-duke serghei alexandrovich. there was war in russia--war between two systems of organized terrorism. sometimes the czar and his ministers weakened and promised concessions, but always there was speedy reaction and, usually, an increased vigor of oppression. the assassination of von plehve, however, for the first time really weakened the government. czarism was, in fact, already toppling. the new minister of the interior, von plehve's successor, prince svyatpolk-mirski, sought to meet the situation by a policy of compromise. while he maintained von plehve's methods of suppressing the radical organizations and their press, and using provocative agents to entrap revolutionary leaders, he granted a certain degree of freedom to the moderate press and adopted a relatively liberal attitude toward the zemstvos. by this means he hoped to avert the impending revolution. taking advantage of the new conditions, the leaders of the zemstvos organized a national convention. this the government forbade, but it had lost much of its power and the leaders of the movement ignored the order and proceeded to hold the convention. at this convention, held at st. petersburg, november , , attended by many of the ablest lawyers, doctors, professors, scientists, and publicists in russia, a resolution was adopted demanding that the government at once call representatives of the people together for the purpose of setting up a constitutional government in russia. it was a revolutionary act, a challenge to the autocracy, which the latter dared not accept. on the contrary, in december the czar issued an ambiguous ukase in which a number of concessions and reforms were promised, but carefully avoiding the fundamental issues at stake. vi meanwhile the war with japan, unpopular from the first, had proved to be an unbroken series of military defeats and disasters for russia. from the opening of the war in february to the end of the year the press had been permitted to publish very little real news concerning it, but it was not possible to hide for long the bitter truth. taxes mounted higher and higher, prices rose, and there was intense suffering, while the loss of life was enormous. news of the utter failure and incompetence of the army and the navy seeped through. here was russia with a population three times as large as that of japan, and with an annual budget of two billions as against japan's paltry sixty millions, defeated at every turn. what did this failure signify? in the first place, it signified the weakness and utter incompetence of the régime. it meant that imperialist expansion, with a corresponding strengthening of the old régime, was out of the question. most intelligent russians, with no lack of real patriotism, rejoiced at the succession of defeats because it proved to the masses the unfitness of the bureaucracy. it signified something else, also. there were many who remembered the scandals of the turkish war, in , when bessarabia was recovered. at that time there was a perfect riot of graft, corruption, and treachery, much of which came under the observation of the zemstvos of the border. high military officials trafficked in munitions and food-supplies. food intended for the army was stolen and sold--sometimes, it was said, to the enemy. materials were paid for, but never delivered to the army at all. the army was demoralized and the turks repulsed the russians again and again. now similar stories began to be circulated. returning victims told stories of brutal treatment of the troops by officers; of wounded and dying men neglected; of lack of hospital care and medical attention. they told worse stories, too, of open treachery by military officials and others; of army supplies stolen; of shells ordered which would fit no guns the russian army ever had, and so on. it was suggested, and widely believed, that germany had connived at the systematic corruption of the russian bureaucracy and the russian army, to serve its own imperialistic and economic ends. such was the state of russia at the end of the year . then came the tragic events of january, , which marked the opening of the revolution. in order to counteract the agitation of the social democrats among the city workers, and the formation by them of trades-unions, the government had caused to be formed "legal" unions--that is, organizations of workmen approved by the government. in order to give these organizations some semblance to real labor-unions, and thereby the better to deceive the workers, strikes were actually inspired by agents of the government from time to time. on more than one occasion strikes thus instigated by the government spread beyond control and caused great alarm. the czar and his agents were playing with fire. among such unions was the gathering of industrial working-men of st. petersburg, which had for its program such innocent and non-revolutionary objects as "sober and reasonable pastimes, aimed at physical, intellectual, and moral improvement; strengthening of russian national ideas; development of sensible views concerning the rights and duties of working-men and improvement of labor conditions and mutual assistance." it was founded by father gapon, who was opposed to the revolutionary movement, and was regarded by the socialists as a czarist tool. on january d--russian calendar--several thousand men belonging to the gathering of industrial workin-gmen of st. petersburg went out on strike. by the th the strike had assumed the dimensions of a general strike. it was estimated that on the latter date fully one hundred and forty thousand men were out on strike, practically paralyzing the industrial life of the city. at meetings of the strikers speeches were made which had as much to do with the political demands for constitutional government as with the original grievances of the strikers. the strike was fast becoming a revolution. on the th father gapon led the hosts to the winter palace, to present a petition to the czar asking for reforms. the text of the petition was widely circulated beforehand. it begged the czar to order immediately "that representatives of all the russian land, of all classes and groups, convene." it outlined a moderate program which had the support of almost the entire nation with the exception of the bureaucracy: let every one be equal and free in the right of election; order to this end that election for the constituent assembly be based on general, equal, direct, and secret suffrage. this is our main request; in it and upon it everything is founded; this is the only ointment for our painful wounds; and in the absence of this our blood will continue to flow constantly, carrying us swiftly toward death. but this measure alone cannot remedy all our wounds. many others are necessary, and we tell them to you, sire, directly and openly, as to our father. we need: _i. measures to counteract the ignorance and legal oppression of the russian people_: ( ) personal freedom and inviolability, freedom of speech and the press, freedom of assemblage, freedom in religious affairs; ( ) general and compulsory public education at the expense of the state; ( ) responsibility of the ministers to the people, and guaranties of lawfulness in administration; ( ) equality before the law for all without exemption; ( ) immediate rehabilitation of those punished for their convictions. ( ) separation of the church from the state. _ii. measures against the poverty of the people_: ( ) abolition of indirect taxes and introduction of direct income taxes on a progressive scale; ( ) abolition of the redemption payments, cheap credit, and gradual transferring of the land to the people; ( ) the orders for the naval and military ministers should be filled in russia and not abroad; ( ) the cessation of the war by the will of the people. _iii. measures against oppression of labor by capital_: ( ) protection of labor by legislation; ( ) freedom of consumers' and producers' leagues and trades-unions; ( ) an eight-hour workday and a regulation of overtime; ( ) freedom of struggle against capital (freedom of labor strikes); ( ) participation of labor representatives in the framing of a bill concerning state insurance of working-men; ( ) normal wages. those are, sire, the principal wants with which we have come to you. let your decree be known, swear that you will satisfy them, and you will make russia happy and glorious, and your name will be branded in our hearts and in the hearts of our posterity for ever and ever. if, however, you will not reply to our prayer, we shall die here, on the place before your palace. we have no other refuge and no other means. we have two roads before us, one to freedom and happiness, the other to the grave. tell us, sire, which, and we will follow obediently, and if it be the road of death, let our lives be a sacrifice for suffering-wearied russia. we do not regret the sacrifice; we bring it willingly. led on by the strange, hypnotic power of the mystical father gapon, who was clad in the robes of his office, tens of thousands of working-people marched that day to the winter palace, confident that the czar would see them, receive their petitions, and harken to their prayers. it was not a revolutionary demonstration in the accepted sense of that term; the marchers did not carry red flags nor sing socialist songs of revolt. instead, they bore pictures of the czar and other members of the royal family and sang "god save the czar" and other well-known religious hymns. no attempt was made to prevent the procession from reaching the square in front of the winter palace. suddenly, without a word of warning, troops appeared from the courtyards, where they were hidden, and fired into the crowded mass of human beings, killing more than five hundred and wounding nearly three thousand. all who were able to do so turned and fled, among them father gapon. bloody sunday, as the day is known in russian annals, is generally regarded as the beginning of the first revolution. immediately people began to talk of armed resistance. on the evening of the day of the tragedy there was a meeting of more than seven hundred intellectuals at which the means for carrying on revolution was the topic discussed. this was the first of many similar gatherings which took place all over russia. soon the intellectuals began to organize unions, ostensibly for the protection of their professional interests, but in reality for political purposes. there were unions of doctors, writers, lawyers, engineers, professors, editors, and so on. quietly, and almost without design, there was being effected another and more important union, namely, the union of all classes against autocracy and despotism. the czar gave from his private purse fifty thousand rubles for the relief of the families of the victims of bloody sunday. on the th of january he received a deputation of carefully selected "loyal" working-men and delivered to them a characteristic homily, which infuriated the masses by its stupid perversion of the facts connected with the wanton massacre of bloody sunday. then, at the end of the month, he proclaimed the appointment of a commission to "investigate the causes of labor unrest in st. petersburg and its suburbs and to find means of avoiding them in the future." this commission was to consist of representatives of capital and labor. the working-men thereupon made the following demands: ( ) that labor be given an equal number of members in the commission with capital; ( ) that the working-men be permitted to freely elect their own representatives; ( ) that the sessions of the commission be open to the public; ( ) that there be complete freedom of speech for the representatives of labor in the commission; ( ) that all the working-people arrested on january th be released. these demands of the working-men's organizations were rejected by the government, whereupon the workers agreed to boycott the commission and refuse to have anything to do with it. at last it became evident to the government that, in the circumstances, the commission could not accomplish any good, and it was therefore abandoned. the czar and his advisers were desperate and vacillating. one day they would adopt a conciliatory attitude toward the workers, and the next day follow it up with fresh measures of repression and punishment. little heeding the stupid charge by the holy synod that the revolutionary leaders were in the pay of the japanese, the workers went on organizing and striking. all over russia there were strikes, the movement had spread far beyond the bounds of st. petersburg. general strikes took place in many of the large cities, such as riga, vilna, libau, warsaw, lodz, batum, minsk, tiflis, and many others. conflicts between strikers and soldiers and police were common. russia was aflame with revolution. the movement spread to the peasants in a most surprising manner. numerous extensive and serious revolts of peasants occurred in different parts of russia, the peasants looting the mansions of the landowners, and indulging in savage outbreaks of rioting. while this was going on the army was being completely demoralized. the terrible defeat of the russian forces by the japanese--the foe that had been so lightly regarded--at mukden was a crushing blow which greatly impaired the morale of the troops, both those at home and those at the front. disaster followed upon disaster. may saw the destruction of the great russian fleet. in june rebellion broke out in the navy, and the crew of the battle-ship _potyamkin_, which was on the black sea, mutinied and hoisted the red flag. after making prisoners of their officers, the sailors hastened to lend armed assistance to striking working-men at odessa who were in conflict with soldiers and police. vii it was a time of turbulent unrest and apparent utter confusion. it was not easy to discern the underlying significance and purpose of some of the most important events. on every hand there were strikes and uprisings, many of them without any sort of leadership or plan. strikes which began over questions of wages and hours became political demonstrations in favor of a constituent assembly. on the other hand, political demonstrations became transformed, without any conscious effort on the part of anybody, into strikes for immediate economic betterment. there was an intense class conflict going on in russia, as the large number of strikes for increased wages and shorter hours proved, yet the larger political struggle dwarfed and obscured the class struggle. for the awakened proletariat of the cities the struggle in which they were engaged was economic as well as political. they wisely regarded the political struggle as part of the class struggle, as plechanov and his friends declared it to be. yet the fact remained that the capitalist class against which the proletariat was fighting on the economic field was, for the most part, fighting against autocracy, for the overthrow of czarism and the establishment of political democracy, as earnestly, if less violently, than the proletariat was. the reason for this was the recognition by the leading capitalists of russia of the fact that industrial progress was retarded by the old régime, and that capitalist development requires popular education, a relatively high standard of living, political freedom, and stability and order in government. it was perfectly natural, therefore, for the great associations of manufacturers and merchants to unite in urging the government to grant extensive political reforms so long as the class conflict was merely incidental. what had begun mainly as a class war had become the war of all classes against autocracy. of course, in such a merging of classes there necessarily appeared many shadings and degrees of interest. not all the social groups and classes were as radical in their demands as the organized peasants and city workers, who were the soul of the revolutionary movement. there were, broadly speaking, two great divisions of social life with which the revolution was concerned--the political and the economic. with regard to the first there was practical unanimity; he would be a blind slave to theoretical formulæ who sought to maintain the thesis that class interests divided masses and classes here. all classes, with the exception of the bureaucracy, wanted the abolition of czarism and absolutism and the establishment of a constitutional government, elected by the people on a basis of universal suffrage, and directly responsible to the electorate. upon the economic issue there was less agreement, though all parties and classes recognized the need of extensive change. it was universally recognized that some solution of the land question must be found. there can never be social peace or political stability in russia until that problem is settled. now, it was easy for the socialist groups, on the one hand, and the moderate groups, upon the other, to unite in demanding that the large estates be divided among the peasants. but while the socialist groups--those of the peasants as well as those of city workers--demanded that the land be taken without compensation, the bourgeois elements, especially the leaders of the zemstvos, insisted that the state should pay compensation for the land taken. judgment upon this vital question has long been embittered by the experience of the peasants with the "redemption payments" which were established when serfdom was abolished. during the period of greatest intensity, the summer of , a federation of the various revolutionary peasants' organizations was formed and based its policy upon the middle ground of favoring the payment of compensation _in some cases_. all through this trying period the czar and his advisers were temporizing and attempting to obtain peace by means of petty concessions. a greater degree of religious liberty was granted, and a new representative body, the imperial duma, was provided for. this body was not to be a parliament in any real sense, but a debating society. it could _discuss_ proposed legislation, but it had no powers to _enact_ legislation of any kind. absolutism was dying hard, clinging to its powers with remarkable tenacity. of course, the concessions did not satisfy the revolutionists, not even the most moderate sections, and the net result was to intensify rather than to diminish the flame. on the d of august-- th, according to the old russian calendar--the war with japan came to an end with the signing of the treaty of portsmouth. russia had experienced humiliating and disastrous defeat at the hands of a nation far inferior in population and wealth, but infinitely superior in military capacity and morale. the news of the conditions of peace intensified the ardor and determination of the revolting russian people and, on the other hand, added to the already great weakness of the government. september witnessed a great revival of revolutionary agitation, and by the end of the month a fresh epidemic of strikes had broken out in various parts of the country. by the middle of october the whole life of russia, civil, industrial, and commercial, was a chaos. in some of the cities the greater part of the population had placed themselves in a state of siege, under revolutionary leadership. on the th of october--russian style--the czar issued the famous manifesto which acknowledged the victory of the people and the death of absolutism. after the usual amount of pietistic verbiage by way of introduction the manifesto said: we make it the duty of the government to execute our firm will: ( ) to grant the people the unshakable foundations of civic freedom on the basis of real personal inviolability, freedom of conscience, of speech, of assemblage of unions. ( ) to admit now to participation in the imperial duma, without stopping the pending elections and in so far as it is feasible in the short time remaining before the convening of the duma, all the classes of the population, _leaving the farther development of the principle of universal suffrage to the new legislative order._ ( ) _to establish as an unshakable rule that no law can become binding without the consent of the imperial duma, and that the representatives of the people must be guaranteed a real participation in the control over the lawfulness of the authorities appointed by us_. we call upon all faithful sons of russia to remember their duty to their fatherland, to aid in putting an end to the unprecedented disturbances, and to exert with us all their power to restore quiet and peace in our native land. viii the czar's manifesto rang through the civilized world. in all lands it was hailed as the end of despotism and the triumph of democracy and freedom. the joy of the russian people was unbounded. at last, after fourscore years of heroic struggle and sacrifice by countless heroes, named and nameless, the goal of freedom was attained. men, women, and children sang in the streets to express their joy. red flags were displayed everywhere and solemnly saluted by the officers and men of the czar's army. but the rejoicing was premature, as the events of a few hours clearly proved. with that fatal vacillation which characterized his whole life, nicholas ii had no sooner issued his manifesto than he surrendered once more to the evil forces by which he was surrounded and harked back to the old ways. the day following the issuance of the manifesto, while the people were still rejoicing, there began a series of terrible pogroms. the cry went forth, "kill the intellectuals and the jews!" there had been organized in support of the government, and by its agents, bodies of so-called "patriots." these were, in the main, recruited from the underworld, a very large number of them being criminals who were released from the prison for the purpose. officially known as the association of the russian people and the association to combat the revolution, these organizations were popularly nicknamed the black hundreds. most of the members were paid directly by the government for their services, while others were rewarded with petty official positions. the czar himself accepted membership in these infamous organizations of hired assassins. within three weeks after the issuance of the manifesto more than a hundred organized pogroms took place, the number of killed amounting to nearly four thousand; the wounded to more than ten thousand, according to the most competent authorities. in odessa alone more than one thousand persons were killed and many thousands wounded in a four-days' massacre. in all the bloody pages of the history of the romanovs there is nothing comparable to the frightful terror of this period. naturally, this brutal vengeance and the deception which nicholas ii and his advisers had practised upon the people had the immediate effect of increasing the relative strength and prestige of the socialists in the revolutionary movement as against the less radical elements. to meet such brutality and force only the most extreme measures were deemed adequate. the council of workmen's deputies, which had been organized by the proletariat of st. petersburg a few days before the czar issued his manifesto, now became a great power, the central guiding power of the revolution. similar bodies were organized in other great cities. the example set by the city workers was followed by the peasants in many places and councils of peasants' deputies were organized. in a few cases large numbers of soldiers, making common cause with these bodies representing the working class, formed councils of soldiers' deputies. here, then, was a new phenomenon; betrayed by the state, weary of the struggle to democratize and liberalize the political state, the workers had established a sort of revolutionary self-government of a new kind, entirely independent of the state. we shall never comprehend the later developments in russia, especially the phenomenon of bolshevism, unless we have a sympathetic understanding of these soviets--autonomous, non-political units of working-class self-government, composed of delegates elected directly by the workers. as the revolutionary resistance to the black hundreds increased, and the rapidly growing soviets of workmen's, peasants' and soldiers' delegates asserted a constantly increasing indifference to the existing political state, the government again tried to stem the tide by making concessions. on november d--new style--in a vain attempt to appease the incessant demand for the release of the thousands of political prisoners, and to put an end to the forcible release of such prisoners by infuriated mobs, a partial amnesty was declared. on the th a sop was thrown to the peasants in the shape of a decree abolishing all the remaining land-redemption payments. had this reform come sooner it might have had the effect of stemming the tide of revolt among the peasants, but in the circumstances it was of no avail. early in december the press censorship was abolished by decree, but that was of very little importance, for the radical press had thrown off all its restraints, simply ignoring the censorship. the government of nicholas ii was quite as helpless as it was tyrannical, corrupt, and inefficient. the army and navy, demoralized by the defeat suffered at the hands of japan, and especially by knowledge of the corruption in high places which made that defeat inevitable, were no longer dependable. tens of thousands of soldiers and marines had joined with the workmen in the cities in open rebellion. many more indulged themselves in purposeless rioting. the organization of the various councils of delegates representing factory-workers and peasants, inevitable as it seemed to be, had one disastrous effect, the seriousness of which cannot be overstated. as we have seen, the cruel, blundering policy of the government had united all classes against it in a revolutionary movement of unexampled magnitude. given the conditions prevailing in russia, and especially the lack of industrial development and the corresponding numerical weakness of the industrial proletariat, it was evident that the only chance of success in the revolution lay in the united effort of all classes against the old régime. nothing could have better served the autocracy, and therefore injured the revolutionary cause, than the creation of a division in the ranks of the revolutionists. this was exactly what the separate organizations of the working class accomplished. all the provocative agents of the czar could not have contrived anything so serviceable to the reaction. _divide et impera_ has been the guiding principle of cunning despots in all ages, and the astutest advisers of nicholas ii must have grinned with satanic glee when they realized how seriously the forces they were contending against were dividing. stupid oppression had driven into one united force the wage-earning and wage-paying classes. working-men and manufacturers made common cause against that stupid oppression. now, however, as the inevitable result of the organization of the soviets, and the predominance of these in the revolution, purely economic issues came to the front. in proportion as the class struggle between employers and employed was accentuated the common struggle against autocracy was minimized and obscured. numerous strikes for increased wages occurred, forcing the employers to organize resistance. workers in one city--st. petersburg, for example--demanded the immediate introduction of an eight-hour workday, and proclaimed it to be in force, quite regardless of the fact that longer hours prevailed elsewhere and that, given the competitive system, their employers were bound to resist a demand that would be a handicap favoring their competitors. as might have been foreseen, the employers were forced to rely upon the government, the very government they had denounced and conspired to overthrow. the president of the council of workmen's deputies of st. petersburg, chrustalev-nosar, in his _history of the council of workmen's deputies_, quotes the order adopted by acclamation on november th--new style--introducing, from november th, an eight-hour workday in all shops and factories "in a revolutionary way." by way of commentary, he quotes a further order, adopted november , repealing the former order and declaring: the government, headed by count witte, _in its endeavor to break the vigor of the revolutionary proletariat, came to the support of capital_, thus turning the question of an eight-hour workday in st. petersburg into a national problem. the consequence has been that the working-men of st. petersburg are unable now, apart from the working-men of the entire country, to realize the decree of the council. the council of workmen's deputies, therefore, deems it necessary to _stop temporarily the immediate and general establishment of an eight-hour workday by force_. the councils inaugurated general strike after general strike. at first these strikes were successful from a revolutionary point of view. soon, however, it became apparent that the general strike is a weapon which can only be used effectively on rare occasions. it is impossible to rekindle frequently and at will the sacrificial passion necessary to make a successful general strike. this the leaders of the proletariat of russia overlooked. they overlooked, also, the fact that the masses of the workers were exhausted by the long series of strikes in which they had engaged and were on the verge of starvation. the consequence was that most of the later strikes failed to accomplish anything like the ends sought. naturally, the government was recovering its confidence and its courage in proportion to the class divisions and antagonisms of the opposition. it once more suppressed the revolutionary press and prohibited meetings. once more it proclaimed martial law in many cities. with all its old-time assurance it caused the arrest of the leaders of the unions of workmen and peasants, broke up the organizations and imprisoned their officers. it issued a decree which made it a crime to participate in strikes. with the full sanction of the government, as was shown by the publication of documentary evidence of unquestioned authenticity, the black hundreds renewed their brutality. the strong council of workmen's deputies of st. petersburg, with which witte had dealt as though it were part of the government itself, was broken up and suppressed. witte wanted constitutional government on the basis of the october manifesto, but he wanted the orderly development of russian capitalism. in this attitude he was supported, of course, by the capitalist organizations. the very men who in the summer of had demanded that the government grant the demands of the workers and so end the strikes, and who worked in unison with the workers to secure the much-desired political freedom, six months later were demanding that the government suppress the strikes and exert its force to end disorder. recognition of these facts need not imply any lack of sympathy with the proletariat in their demands. the class struggle in modern industrial society is a fact, and there is abundant justification--the justification of necessity and of achievement--for aggressive class consciousness and class warfare. but it is quite obvious that there are times when class interests and class warfare must be set aside in favor of larger social interests. it is obviously dangerous and reactionary--and therefore wrong--to insist upon strikes or other forms of class warfare in moments of great calamity, as, for example, during disasters like the johnstown flood and the messina earthquake, or amid the ravages of a pestilential plague. marx, to whom we owe the formulation of the theory of class struggle which has guided the socialist movement, would never have questioned this important truth; he would never have supported class separatism under conditions such as those prevailing in russia at the end of . only doctrinaires, slaves to formulæ, but blind to reality, could have sanctioned such separatism. but doctrinaires always abound in times of revolution. by december the government was stronger than it had been at any time since the revolution began. the zemstvos were no longer an active part of the revolutionary movement. indeed, there had come over these bodies a great change, and most of them were now dominated by relatively reactionary landowners who, hitherto apathetic and indifferent, had been stirred to defensive action by the aggressive class warfare of the workers. practically all the bourgeois moderates had been driven to the more or less open support of the government. december witnessed a new outburst in st. petersburg, moscow, and other cities. barricades were raised in the streets in many places. in moscow, where the most bitter and sanguinary struggles took place, more than a thousand persons were killed. the government was better prepared than the workers; the army had recovered no little of its lost morale and did not refuse to shoot down the workers as it had done on previous occasions. the strikes and insurrections were put down in bloody vengeance and there followed a reign of brutal repression indescribably horrible and savage. by way of protest and retaliation, there were individual acts of terrorism, such as the execution of the governor of tambov by marie spiridonova, but these were of little or no avail. the first revolution was drowned in blood and tears. chapter ii from revolution to revolution i no struggle for human freedom was ever wholly vain. no matter how vast and seemingly complete the failure, there is always something of enduring good achieved. that is the law of progress, universal and immutable. the first russian revolution conformed to the law; it had failed and died in a tragic way, yet its failure was relative and it left something of substantial achievement as the foundation for fresh hope, courage, and effort. czarism had gathered all its mighty black forces and seemed, at the beginning of , to be stronger than at any time in fifty years. the souls of russia's noblest and best sons and daughters were steeped in bitter pessimism. and yet there was reason for hope and rejoicing; out of the ruin and despair two great and supremely vital facts stood in bold, challenging relief. the first of these facts was the new aspect of czarism, its changed status. absolutism as a legal institution was dead. nothing that nicholas ii and his advisers were able to do could undo the constitutional changes effected when the imperial edict made it part of the fundamental law of the nation that "no law can become binding without the consent of the imperial duma," and that the duma, elected by the people, had the right to control the actions of the officials of the government, even when such officials were appointed by the czar himself. absolutism was illegal now. attempts might be made to reintroduce it, and, indeed, that was the real significance of the policy pursued by the government, but absolutism could no longer possess the moral strength that inheres in the sanctity of law. in fighting it the russian people now had that strength upon their side. the second vital and hopeful fact was likewise a moral force. absolutism with all its assumed divine prerogatives, in the person of the czar, had declared its firm will "to grant the people the unshakable foundations of civic freedom on the basis of real personal inviolability, freedom of conscience, of speech, of assemblage and of unions." this civic freedom absolutism had sanctioned. by that act it gave the prestige of legality to such assemblages, discussions, and publications as had always hitherto been forced to accept risks and disabilities inseparable from illegal conduct. civic freedom had long been outlawed, a thing associated with lawlessness and crime, and so long as that condition remained many who believed in civic freedom itself, who wanted a free press, freedom of public assemblage and of conscience in matters pertaining to religion, were kept from participation in the struggle. respect for law, as law, is deeply rooted in civilized mankind--a fact which, while it makes the task of the revolutionist hard, and at times impedes progress, is, nevertheless, of immense value to human society. civic freedom was not yet a fact. it seemed, as a reality, to be as far away as ever. meetings were forbidden by officials and broken up by soldiers and police; newspapers were suppressed, as of old; labor-unions, and even the unions of the intellectuals, were ruthlessly persecuted and treated as conspiracies against the state. all this and more was true and discouraging. yet there was substantial gain: civic freedom as a practical fact did not exist, but civic freedom as a lawful right lived in the minds of millions of people--the greatest fact in russia. the terms of the manifesto of october th--absolutism's solemn covenant with the nation--had not been repealed, and the nation knew that the government did not dare to repeal it. not all the czar's armies and black hundreds could destroy that consciousness of the lawful right to civic freedom. nothing could restore the old condition. whereas in the past the government, in suppressing the press and popular assemblages, could say to the people, "we uphold the law!" now when the government attempted these things, the people defiantly cried out, "you break the law!" absolutism was no longer a thing of law. nicholas ii and all his bureaucrats could not return the chicken to the egg from which it had been hatched. they could not unsay the fateful words which called into being the imperial duma. the revolution had put into their souls a terrible fear of the wrath of the people. the czar and his government had to permit the election of the duma to proceed, and yet, conscious of the fact that the success of the duma inevitably meant the end of the old régime, they were bound, in self-protection, to attempt to kill the duma in the hope that thereby they would kill, or at least paralyze, the revolution itself. thus it was, while not daring to forbid the elections for the duma to proceed, the government adopted a machiavellian policy. the essentials of that policy were these: on the one hand, the duma was not to be seriously considered at all, when it should assemble. it would be ignored, if possible, and no attention paid to any of its deliberations or attempts to legislate. a certain amount of latitude would be given to it as a debating society, a sort of safety-valve, but that was all. if this policy could not be carried out in its entirety, if, for example, it should prove impossible to completely ignore the duma, it would be easy enough to devise a mass of hampering restrictions and regulations which would render it impotent, and yet necessitate no formal repudiation of the october manifesto. on the other hand, there was the possibility that the duma might be captured and made a safe ally. the suffrage upon which the elections were to be based was most undemocratic and unjust, giving to the landlords and the prosperous peasants, together with the wealthy classes in the cities, an enormous preponderance in the electorate. by using the black hundreds to work among the electors--bribing, cajoling, threatening, and coercing, as the occasion might require--it might be possible to bring about the election of a duma which would be a pliant and ready tool of the government. one of the favorite devices of the black hundreds was to send agents among the workers in the cities and among the peasants to discredit the duma in advance, and to spread the idea that it would only represent the bourgeoisie. many of the most influential socialist leaders unfortunately preached the same doctrine. this was the natural and logical outcome of the separate action of the classes in the revolution, and of the manner in which the proletariat had forced the economic struggle to the front during the political struggle. in the vanguard of the fight for the duma were the constitutional democrats, led by miliukov, prince lvov, and many prominent leaders of the zemstvos. the divorce between the classes represented by these men and the proletariat represented by the social democrats was absolute. it was not surprising that the leaders of the social democratic party should be suspicious and distrustful of the constitutional democrats and refuse to co-operate with them. but many of the social democrats went much farther than this, and, in the name of socialism and proletarian class consciousness, adopted the same attitude toward the duma itself as that which the agents of the black hundreds were urging upon the people. among the socialist leaders who took this position was vladimir ulyanov, the great propagandist whom the world knows to-day as nikolai lenine, bolshevik prime minister and dictator. lenine urged the workers to boycott the duma and to refuse to participate in the elections in any manner whatever. at a time when only a united effort by all classes could be expected to accomplish anything, and when such a victory of the people over the autocratic régime as might have been secured by united action would have meant the triumph of the revolution, lenine preached separatism. unfortunately, his influence, even at that time, was very great and his counsels prevailed with a great many socialist groups over the wiser counsels of plechanov and others. it may be said, in explanation and extenuation of lenine's course, that the boycotting of the elections was the logical outcome of the class antagonism and separatism, and that the bourgeois leaders were just as much responsible for the separatism as the leaders of the proletariat were. all this is true. it is quite true to say that wiser leadership of the manufacturing class in the critical days of would have made concessions and granted many of the demands of the striking workmen. by so doing they might have maintained unity in the political struggle. but, even if so much be granted, it is poor justification and defense of a socialist policy to say that it was neither better nor worse, neither more stupid nor more wise, than that of the bourgeoisie! in the circumstances, lenine's policy was most disastrous for russia. it is not necessary to believe the charge that was made at the time and afterward that lenine was in the pay of the government and a tool of the black hundreds. subsequent incidents served to fasten grave suspicion upon him, but no one ever offered proof of corruption. in all probability, he was then, and throughout the later years, honest and sincere--a fanatic, often playing a dangerous game, unmoral rather than immoral, believing that the end he sought justified any means. ii when the elections for the duma were held, in march, , the failure of the government's attempt to capture the body was complete. it was overwhelmingly a progressive parliament that had been elected. the constitutional democrats, upon a radical program, had elected the largest number of members, . next came the representatives of the peasants' organizations, with a program of moderate socialism, numbering . this group became known in the duma as the labor group. a third group consisted of representatives of border provinces, mostly advanced liberals, called autonomists, on account of their special interest in questions concerning local autonomy. there were only avowed supporters of the government. finally, despite the socialist boycott of the elections, there were almost as many socialists elected as there were supporters of the government. once more russia had spoken for democracy in no uncertain voice. and once more czarism committed the incredible folly of attempting to stem the tide of democracy by erecting further measures of autocracy as a dam. shortly before the time came for the assembling of the newly elected duma, the czar's government announced new fundamental laws which limited the powers of the duma and practically reduced it to a farce. in the first place, the imperial council was to be reconstituted and set over the duma as an upper chamber, or senate, having equal rights with the duma. half of the members of the imperial council were to be appointed by the czar and the other half elected from universities, zemstvos, bourses, and by the clergy and the nobility. in other words, over the duma was to be set a body which could always be so manipulated as to insure the defeat of any measure displeasing to the old régime. and the czar reserved to himself the power to summon or dissolve the duma at will, as well as the power to declare war and to make peace and to enter into treaties with other nations. what a farce was this considered as a fulfilment of the solemn assurances given in october, ! but the reactionary madness went even farther; believing the revolutionary movement to have been crushed to such a degree that it might act with impunity, autocracy took other measures. three days before the assembling of the duma the czar replaced his old ministry by one still more reactionary. at the head of the cabinet, as prime minister, he appointed the notorious reactionary bureaucrat, goremykin. with full regard for the bloody traditions of the office, the infamous stolypin, former governor of saratov, was made minister of the interior. at the head of the department of agriculture, which was charged with responsibility for dealing with agrarian problems, was placed stishinsky, a large landowner, bitterly hostile to, and hated by, the peasants. the composition of the new ministry was a defiance of the popular will and sentiment, and was so interpreted. the duma opened on april th, at the taurida palace. st. petersburg was a vast armed camp that day. tens of thousands of soldiers, fully armed, were massed at different points in readiness to suppress any demonstrations by the populace. it was said that provocateurs moved among the people, trying to stir an uprising which would afford a pretext for action by the soldiers. the members of the duma were first received by the czar at the winter palace and addressed by him in a pompous speech which carefully avoided all the vital questions in which the russian people were so keenly interested. it was a speech which might as well have been made by the first czar nicholas. but there was no need of words to tell what was in the mind of nicholas ii; that had been made quite evident by the new laws and the new ministry. before the duma lay the heavy task of continuing the revolution, despite the fact that the revolutionary army had been scattered as chaff is scattered before the winds. the first formal act of the duma, after the opening ceremonies were finished, was to demand amnesty for all the political prisoners. the members of the duma had come to the taurida palace that day through streets crowded with people who chanted in monotonous chorus the word "amnesty." the oldest man in the assembly, i.i. petrunkevitch, was cheered again and again as he voiced the popular demand on behalf of "those who have sacrificed their freedom to free our dear fatherland." there were some seventy-five thousand political prisoners in russia at that time, the flower of russian manhood and womanhood, treated as common criminals and, in many instances, subject to terrible torture. well might petrunkevitch proclaim: "all the prisons of our country are full. thousands of hands are being stretched out to us in hope and supplication, and i think that the duty of our conscience compels us to use all the influence our position gives us to see that the freedom that russia has won costs no more sacrifices ... i think, gentlemen ... we cannot refrain just now from expressing our deepest feelings, the cry of our heart--that free russia demands the liberation of all prisoners." at the end of the eloquent appeal there was an answering cry of: "amnesty!" "amnesty!" the chorus of the streets was echoed in the duma itself. there was no lack of courage in the duma. one of its first acts was the adoption of an address in response to the speech delivered by the czar to the members at the reception at the winter palace. the address was in reality a statement of the objects and needs of the russian people, their program. it was a radical document, but moderately couched. it demanded full political freedom; amnesty for all who had been imprisoned for political reasons or for violations of laws in restriction of religious liberty; the abolition of martial law and other extraordinary measures; abolition of capital punishment; the abolition of the imperial council and democratization of the laws governing elections to the duma; autonomy for finland and poland; the expropriation of state and private lands in the interest of the peasants; a comprehensive body of social legislation designed to protect the industrial workers. in a word, the program of the duma was a broad and comprehensive program of political and social democracy, which, if enacted, would have placed russia among the foremost democracies of the world. the boldness of the duma program was a direct challenge to the government and was so interpreted by the czar and his ministers. by the reactionary press it was denounced as a conspiracy to hand the nation over to the socialists. that it should have passed the duma almost unanimously was an indication of the extent to which the liberal bourgeoisie represented by the constitutional democrats was prepared to go in order to destroy autocracy. no wonder that some of the most trusted marxian socialists in russia were urging that it was the duty of the socialists to co-operate with the duma! yet there was a section of the marxists engaged in a constant agitation against the duma, preaching the doctrine of the class struggle, but blind to the actual fact that the dominant issue was in the conflict between the democracy of the duma and the autocracy of czarism. the class consciousness of the old régime was much clearer and more intelligent. the czar refused to receive the committee of the duma, appointed to make formal presentation of the address. then, on may th, goremykin, the prime minister, addressed the duma, making answer to its demands. on behalf of the government he rebuked the duma for its unpatriotic conduct in a speech full of studied insult and contemptuous defiance. he made it quite clear that the government was not going to grant any reforms worthy of mention. more than that, he made it plain to the entire nation that nicholas ii and his bureaucracy would never recognize the duma as an independent parliamentary body. thus the old régime answered the challenge of the duma. for seventy-two days the duma worked and fought, seventy-two days of parliamentary history for which there is no parallel in the annals of parliamentary government. for the sake of the larger aims before it, the duma carried out the demands of the government that it approve certain petty measures placed before it for the formality of its approval. on the other hand, it formulated and passed numerous measures upon its own initiative and demanded that they be recognized as laws of the land. among the measures thus adopted were laws guaranteeing freedom of assemblage; equality of all citizens before the law; the right of labor organizations to exist and to conduct strikes; reform of judicial procedure in the courts; state aid for peasants suffering from crop failure and other agrarian reforms; the abolition of capital punishment. in addition to pursuing its legislative program, the duma members voiced the country's protest against the shortcomings of the government, subjecting the various ministers to searching interpellation, day after day. not a single one of the measures adopted by the duma received the support of the imperial council. this body was effectively performing the task for which it had been created. to the interpellations of the duma the czar's ministers made the most insulting replies, when they happened to take any notice of them at all. all the old iniquities were resorted to by the government, supported, as always, by the reactionary press. the homes of members of the duma were entered and searched by the police and every parliamentary right and privilege was flouted. even the publication of the speeches delivered in the duma was forbidden. the duma had from the first maintained a vigorous protest against "the infamy of executions without trial, pogroms, bombardment, and imprisonment." again and again it had been charged that pogroms were carried out under the protection of the government, in accordance with the old policy of killing the jews and the intellectuals. the answer of the government was--another pogrom of merciless savagery. on june st, at byalostock, upward of eighty men, women, and children were killed, many more wounded, and scores of women, young and old, brutally outraged. the duma promptly sent a commission to byalostock to investigate and report upon the facts, and presently the commission made a report which proved beyond question the responsibility of the government for the whole brutal and bloody business. it was shown that the inflammatory manifestos calling upon the "loyal" citizens to make the attack were printed in the office of the police department; that soldiers in the garrison had been told days in advance when the pogrom would take place; and that in the looting and sacking of houses and shops, which occurred upon a large scale, officers of the garrison had participated. these revelations made a profound impression in russia and throughout europe. iii the duma finally brought upon itself the whole weight of czarism when it addressed a special appeal to the peasants of the country in which it dealt with candor and sincerity with the great agrarian problems which bore upon the peasants so heavily. the appeal outlined the various measures which the duma had tried to enact for the relief of the peasants, and the attitude of the czar's ministers. the many strong peasants' organizations, and their numerous representatives in the duma, made the circulation of this appeal an easy matter. the government could not close these channels of communication, nor prevent the duma's strong plea for lawful rights and against lawlessness by government officials from reaching the peasants. only one method of defense remained to the czar and his ministers: on july th, like a thunderbolt from the sky, came a new manifesto from the czar, dissolving the duma. in the manifesto all the old arrogance of absolutism reappeared. a more striking contrast to the manifesto of the previous october could not be readily imagined. the duma was accused of having exceeded its rights by "investigating the actions of local authorities appointed by the emperor," notwithstanding the fact that in the october manifesto it had been solemnly covenanted "that the representatives of the people must be guaranteed a real participation in the control over the lawfulness of the authorities appointed by us." the duma was condemned for "finding imperfections in the fundamental laws which can be altered only by the monarch's will" and for its "overtly lawless act of appealing to the people." the manifesto charged that the growing unrest and lawlessness of the peasants were due to the failure of the duma to ameliorate their conditions--and this in spite of the record! when the members of the duma arrived at the taurida palace next day they found the place filled with troops who prevented their entrance. they were powerless. some two hundred-odd members adjourned to viborg, whence they issued an appeal to the people to defend their rights. these men were not socialists, most of them belonging to the party of the constitutional democrats, but they issued an appeal to the people to meet the dissolution of the imperial duma by a firm refusal to pay taxes, furnish recruits for the army, or sanction the legality of any loans to the government. this was practically identical with the policy set forth in the manifesto of the executive committee of the st. petersburg council of workmen's deputies at the beginning of the previous december, before the elections to the duma. now, however, the socialists in the duma--both the social democrats and the socialist-revolutionists--together with the semi-socialist labor group, decided that it was not enough to appeal for passive resistance; that only an armed uprising could accomplish anything. they therefore appealed to the city proletariat, the peasants, the army, and the navy to rise in armed strength against the tyrannical régime. neither appeal produced any noteworthy result. the response to the viborg appeal was far less than that which followed the similar appeal of the st. petersburg workmen in december. the signers of the appeal were arrested, sentenced to three months' imprisonment, and deprived of their electoral rights. to the appeal of the duma socialists there was likewise very little response, either from city workers, peasants, soldiers, or marines. russia was struggle-weary. the appeals fell upon the ears of a cowed and beaten populace. the two documents served only to emphasize one fact, namely, that capacity and daring to attempt active and violent resistance was still largely confined to the working-class representatives. in appealing to the workers to meet the attacks of the government with armed resistance, the leaders of the peasants and the city proletariat were ready to take their places in the vanguard of the fight. on the other hand, the signers of the viborg appeal for passive resistance manifested no such determination or desire, though they must have known that passive resistance could only be a temporary phase, that any concerted action by the people to resist the collection of taxes and recruiting for the army would have led to attack and counter-attack-to a violent revolution. feeling perfectly secure, the government, while promising the election of another duma, carried on a policy of vigorous repression of all radical and revolutionary agitation and organization. executions without trial were almost daily commonplaces. prisoners were mercilessly tortured, and, in many cases, flogged to death. hundreds of persons, of both sexes, many of them simple bourgeois-liberals and not revolutionists in any sense of the word, were exiled to siberia. the revolutionary organizations of the workers were filled with spies and provocateurs, an old and effective method of destroying their morale. in all the provinces of russia field court martial was proclaimed. field court martial is more drastic than ordinary court martial and practically amounts to condemnation without trial, for trials under it are simply farcical, since neither defense nor appeal is granted. nearly five hundred revolutionists were put to death under this system, many of them without even the pretense of a trial. the black hundreds were more active than ever, goaded on by the holy synod. goremykin resigned as premier and his place was taken by the unspeakably cruel and bloodthirsty stolypin, whose "hemp neckties," as the grim jest of the masses went, circled the necks of scores of revolutionists swinging from as many gallows. there were many resorts to terrorism on the part of the revolutionists during the summer of , many officials paying for the infamies of the government with their lives. how many of these "executions" were genuine revolutionary protests, and how many simple murders instigated or committed by provocative agents for the purpose of discrediting the revolutionists and affording the government excuses for fresh infamies, will perhaps never be known. certainly, in many cases, there was no authorization by any revolutionary body. in february, , the elections for the second duma were held under a reign of terror. the bureaucracy was determined to have a "safe and sane" body this time, and resorted to every possible nefarious device to attain that end. whole masses of electors whose right to vote had been established at the previous election were arbitrarily disfranchised. while every facility was given to candidates openly favoring the government, including the octobrists, every possible obstacle was placed in the way of radical candidates, especially socialists. the meetings of the latter were, in hundreds of cases, prohibited; in other hundreds of cases they were broken up by the black hundreds and the police. many of the most popular candidates were arrested and imprisoned without trial, as were members of their campaign committees. yet, notwithstanding all these things, the second duma was, from the standpoint of the government, worse than the first. the socialists, adopting the tactics of plechanov, against the advice of lenine, his former pupil and disciple, had decided not to boycott the elections this time, but to participate in them. when the returns were published it was found that the social democrats and the socialist-revolutionists had each elected over sixty deputies, the total being nearly a third of the membership-- . in addition there were some ninety members in the peasants' labor group, which were semi-socialist. there were constitutional democrats. the government supporters, including the octobrists, numbered less than one hundred. from the first the attitude of the government toward the new duma was one of contemptuous arrogance. "the czar's hangman," stolypin, lectured the members as though they were naughty children, forbidding them to invite experts to aid them in framing measures, or to communicate with any of the zemstvos or municipal councils upon any questions whatsoever. "the duma was not granted the right to express disapproval, reproach, or mistrust of the government," he thundered. to the duma there was left about as much real power as is enjoyed by the "governments" of our "juvenile republics." as a natural consequence of these things, the second duma paid less attention to legislation than the first duma had done, and gave its time largely to interpellations and protests. partly because of the absence of some of the most able leaders they had had in the first duma, and partly to the aggressive radicalism of the socialists, which they could only half-heartedly approve at best, the constitutional democrats were less influential than in the former parliament. they occupied a middle ground--always a difficult position. the real fight was between the socialists and the reactionaries, supporters of the government. among the latter were perhaps a score of members belonging to the black hundreds, constituting the extreme right wing of the reactionary group. between these and the socialists of the extreme left the assembly was kept at fever pitch. the black hundreds, for the most part, indulged in violent tirades of abuse, often in the most disgusting profanity. the socialists replied with proletarian passion and vigor, and riotous scenes were common. the second duma was hardly a deliberative assembly! on june st stolypin threw a bombshell into the duma by accusing the social democrats of having conspired to form a military plot for the overthrow of the government of nicholas ii. evidence to this effect had been furnished to the police department by the spy and provocative agent, azev. of course there was no secret about the fact that the social democrats were always trying to bring about revolt in the army and the navy. they had openly proclaimed this, time and again. in the appeal issued at the time of the dissolution of the first duma they had called upon the army and navy to rise in armed revolt. but the betrayal of their plans was a matter of some consequence. azev himself had been loudest and most persistent in urging the work on. stolypin demanded that all the social democrats be excluded permanently from the duma and that sixteen of them be handed over to the government for imprisonment. the demand was a challenge to the whole duma, since it called into question the right of the duma to determine its own membership. obviously, if members of parliament are to be dismissed whenever an autocratic government orders it, there is an end of parliamentary government. the demand created a tremendous sensation and gave rise to a long and exciting debate. before it was ended, however, nicholas ii ordered the duma dissolved. on june d the second duma met the fate of its predecessor, having lasted one hundred days. iv as on the former occasion, arrangements were at once begun to bring about the election of another and more subservient duma. it is significant that throughout nicholas ii and his cabinet recognized the imperative necessity of maintaining the institution in form. they dared not abolish it, greatly as they would have liked to do so. on the day that the duma was dissolved the czar, asserting his divine right to enact and repeal laws at will, disregarding again the solemn assurances of the october manifesto, by edict changed the electoral laws, consulting neither the duma nor the imperial council. this new law greatly decreased the representation of the city workers and the peasants in the duma and correspondingly increased the representation of the rich landowners and capitalists. a docile and "loyal" duma was thus made certain, and no one was very much surprised when the elections, held in september, resulted in an immense reactionary majority. when the third duma met on december , , the reactionaries were as strong as the socialist and labor groups had been in the previous duma, and of the reactionaries the group of members of the black hundreds was a majority. in the mean time there had been the familiar rule of brutal reaction. most of the social democratic members of the second duma were arrested and condemned for high treason, being sent to prison and to siberia. new laws and regulations restricting the press were proclaimed and enforced with increasing severity. by comparison with the next two years, the period from to was a period of freedom. after the election of the third duma the bureaucracy grew ever bolder. books and leaflets which had been circulated openly and with perfect freedom during and were forbidden, and, moreover, their authors were arrested and sentenced to long terms of imprisonment. while the law still granted freedom of assemblage and the right to organize meetings, these rights did not exist as realities. everywhere the black hundreds held sway, patronized by the czar, who wore their emblem and refused to permit the punishment of any of their members, even though they might be found guilty by the courts. it is not necessary to dwell upon the work of the third duma. this is not a history of russia, and a detailed study of the servile parliament of nicholas ii and stolypin would take us too far afield from our special study--the revolutionary movement. suffice it, therefore, to say that some very useful legislation, necessary to the economic development of russia, was enacted, and that, despite the overwhelming preponderance of reactionaries, it was not an absolutely docile body. on several occasions the third duma exercised the right of criticism quite vigorously, and on two or three occasions acted in more or less open defiance of the wishes of the government. a notable instance of this was the legislation of , considerably extending freedom of religious organization and worship, which was, however, greatly curtailed later by the imperial council--and then nullified by the government. the period - was full of despair for sensitive and aspiring souls. the steady and rapid rise in the suicide-rate bore grim and eloquent testimony to the character of those years of dark repression. the number of suicides in st. petersburg increased during the period - more than per cent.; in moscow about per cent.! in the latter city two-fifths of the suicides in were of persons less than twenty years old! and yet, withal, there was room for hope, the soul of progress was not dead. in various directions there was a hopeful and promising growth. first among these hopeful and promising facts was the marvelous growth of the consumers' co-operatives. after began the astonishing increase in the number of these important organizations, which continued, year after year, right up to the revolution of . in there were , such co-operatives in russia; in there were , . another hopeful sign was the steadily increasing literacy of the masses. statistics upon this point are almost worthless. russian official statistics are notoriously defective and the figures relating to literacy are peculiarly so, but the leaders of russian socialism have attested to the fact. in this connection it is worthy of note that, according to the most authentic official records, the number of persons subscribing to the public press grew in a single year, from to , fully per cent. education and organization were going on, hand in hand. nor was agitation dead. in the duma the socialist and labor parties and groups, knowing that they had no chance to enact their program, made the duma a rostrum from which to address the masses throughout the nation. sometimes, indeed, the newspapers were forbidden to print their speeches, but as a rule they were published, at least by the liberal papers, and so disseminated among the masses. in these speeches the social democrats, socialist-revolutionaries, laborites, and more daring of the constitutional democrats mercilessly exposed the bureaucracy, so keeping the fires of discontent alive. v of vast significance to mankind was the controversy that was being waged within the socialist movement of russia during these years, for this was the period in which bolshevism was shaping itself and becoming articulate. the words "bolsheviki" and "bolshevism" first made their appearance in , but it was not until that they began to acquire their present meaning. at the second convention of the social democratic party, held in , the party split in two factions. the majority faction, headed by lenine, adopted the name bolsheviki, a word derived from the russian word "bolshinstvo," meaning "majority." the minority faction, which followed plechanov, though he did not formally join it, was called, in contradistinction, the "mensheviki"--that is, the minority. no question of principle was involved in the split, the question at issue being simply whether there should be more or less centralization in the organization. there was no thought on either side of leaving the social democratic party. it was simply a factional division in the party itself and did not prevent loyal co-operation. both the bolsheviki and the mensheviki remained social democrats--that is, socialists of the school of marx. during the revolutionary struggle of - the breach between the two factions was greatly widened. the two groups held utterly irreconcilable conceptions of socialist policy, if not of socialism as an ideal. the psychology of the two groups was radically different. by this time the lenine faction was no longer the majority, being, in fact, a rather small minority in the party. the plechanov faction was greatly in the majority. but the old names continued to be used. although a minority, the lenine faction was still called the bolsheviki, and the plechanov faction called the mensheviki, despite the fact that it was the majority. thus bolshevism no longer connoted the principles and tactics of the majority. it came to be used interchangeably with leninism, as a synonym. the followers of vladimir ulyanov continued to regard themselves as part of the social democratic party, its radical left wing, and it was not until after the second revolution, in , that they manifested any desire to be differentiated from the social democrats. vladimir ulyanov was born in , at simbirsk, in central russia. there is no mystery about his use of the alias, nikolai lenine, which he has made world-famous and by which he chooses to be known. almost every russian revolutionist has had to adopt various aliases for self-protection and for the protection of other russian socialists. ulyanov has followed the rule and lived and worked under several aliases, and his writings under the name "nikolai lenine" made him a great power in the russian socialist movement. lenine's father was a governmental official employed in the department of public instruction. it is one of the many anomalies of the life of the russian dictator that he himself belongs by birth, training, culture, and experience to the bourgeoisie against which he fulminates so furiously. even his habits and tastes are of bourgeois and not proletarian origin. he is an intellectual of the intellectuals and has never had the slightest proletarian experience. as a youth still in his teens he entered the university of st. petersburg, but his stay there was exceedingly brief, owing to a tragedy which greatly embittered his life and gave it its direction. an older brother, who was also a student in the university, was condemned to death, in a secret trial, for complicity in a terrorist plot to assassinate alexander iii. shortly afterward he was put to death. lenine himself was arrested at the same time as his brother, but released for lack of evidence connecting him with the affair. it is said, however, that the arrest caused his expulsion from the university. lenine was not the only young man to be profoundly impressed by the execution of the youthful alexander ulyanov; another student, destined to play an important rôle in the great tragedy of revolutionary russia, was stirred to bitter hatred of the system. that young student was alexander kerensky, whose father and the father of the ulyanovs were close friends. lenine's activities brought him into conflict with the authorities several times and forced him to spend a good deal of time in exile. as a youth of seventeen, at the time of the execution of his brother, he was dismissed from the law school in st. petersburg. a few years later he was sent to siberia for a political "crime." upon various occasions later he was compelled to flee from the country, living sometimes in paris, sometimes in london, but more often in switzerland. it was through his writings mainly that he acquired the influence he had in the russian movement. there is nothing unusual or remarkable about this, for the social democratic party of russia was practically directed from geneva. lenine was in london when the revolution of broke out and caused him to hurry to st. petersburg. as a young man lenine, like most of the intelligentsia of the period, gave up a good deal of his spare time to teaching small groups of uneducated working-men the somewhat abstract and intricate theories and doctrines of socialism. to that excellent practice, no doubt, much of lenine's skill as a lucid expositor and successful propagandist is due. he has written a number of important works, most of them being of a polemical nature and dealing with party disputations upon questions of theory and tactics. the work by which he was best known in socialist circles prior to his sensational rise to the premiership is a treatise on _the development of capitalism in russia_. this work made its appearance in , when the marxian socialist movement was still very weak. in it lenine defended the position of the marxians, plechanov and his group, that russia was not an exception to the general law of capitalist development, as was claimed by the leaders of the people's party, the _narodniki_. the book gave lenine an assured position among the intellectual leaders of the movement, and was regarded as a conclusive defense of the position of the plechanov group, to which lenine belonged. since his overthrow of the kerensky régime, and his attempt to establish a new kind of social state in russia, lenine has been frequently confronted by his own earlier reasoning by those who believe his position to be contrary to the true marxian position. from to lenine's views developed farther and farther away from those of his great teacher, george plechanov. his position in the period of the first duma can best be stated, perhaps, in opposition to the position of plechanov and the mensheviki. accepting the marxian theory of historical development, plechanov and his followers believed that russia must pass through a phase of capitalist development before there could be a social--as distinguished from a merely political--revolution. certainly they believed, an intensive development of industry, bringing into existence a strong capitalist class, on the one hand, and a strong proletariat, on the other hand, must precede any attempt to create a social democratic state. they believed, furthermore, that a political revolution, creating a democratic constitutional system of government, must come before the social revolution could be achieved. they accepted the traditional marxian view that the achievement of this political revolution must be mainly the task of the bourgeoisie, and that the proletariat, and especially the socialists, should co-operate with the enlightened bourgeoisie in attaining that political revolution without which there could never be a socialist commonwealth. plechanov was not blind to the dangers of compromise which must be faced in basing the policy of a movement of the masses upon this reasoning. he argued, however, that there was no choice in the matter at all; that the iron law of historical inevitability and necessity determined the matter. he pointed out that the bourgeoisie, represented by the constitutional democrats in the political struggle, were compelled to wage relentless war upon absolutism, the abolition of which was as absolutely essential to the realization of their class aims as it was to the realization of the class aims of the proletariat. hence, in this struggle, the capitalist class, as yet too weak to accomplish the overthrow of autocracy and czarism, and the proletariat, equally dependent for success upon the overthrow of autocracy and czarism, and equally too weak to accomplish it unaided, had to face the fact that historical development had given the two classes which were destined to wage a long conflict an immediate unity of interest. their imperative needs at the moment were not conflicting needs, but identical ones. to divide their forces, to refuse to co-operate with each other, was to play the game of the czar and his associates, argued plechanov. the mensheviki favored participation in the duma elections and co-operation with the liberal and radical bourgeoisie parties, in so far as might be necessary to overthrow the autocracy, and without sacrificing socialist principles. they pointed out that this position was evidently feared by the bureaucracy far more than the position of the extremists among the social democrats and the socialist-revolutionists, who refused to consider such co-operation, and pointed to the fact that provocateurs in large numbers associated themselves with the latter in their organizations and preached the same doctrine of absolute isolation and exclusiveness. it will be seen that the position of the mensheviki was one of practical political opportunism, an opportunism, however, that must be sharply distinguished from what wilhelm liebknecht used to call "political cow-trading." no man in the whole history of international socialism ever more thoroughly despised this species of political opportunism than george plechanov. to those who are familiar with the literature of international socialism it will be unnecessary to say that plechanov was not the man to deprecate the importance of sound theory as a guide to the formulation of party policies. for many years he was rightly regarded as one of the greatest theoreticians of the movement. certainly there was only one other writer in the whole international movement who could be named as having an equal title to be considered the greatest socialist theorist since marx--karl kautsky. but plechanov[ ]--like marx himself--set reality above dogma, and regarded movement as of infinitely greater importance than theory. the mensheviki wanted to convene a great mass convention of representatives of the industrial proletariat during the summer of . "it is a class movement," they said, "not a little sectarian movement. how can there be a _class_ movement unless the way is open to all the working class to participate?" accordingly, they wanted a convention to which all the factory-workers would be invited to send representatives. there should be no doctrinal tests, the sole qualification being membership in the working class. it did not matter to the advocates of this policy whether a man belonged to the social democratic party or to any party; whether he called himself a revolutionist or anything else. it was, they said, a movement of the working class, not the movement of a sect within the working class. they knew, of course, that in such a great mass movement there would probably be some theoretical confusion, more or less muddled thinking. they recognized, too, that in the great mass convention they proposed some social democratic formulations might be rejected and some others adopted which did not accord with the marxian doctrines. but, quoting marx to the effect that "one step of real movement is worth a thousand programs," they contended that if there was anything at all in the marxian theory of progress through class struggles, and the historic rule of the working class, it must follow that, while they might make mistakes and go temporarily astray, the workers could not go far wrong, their class interests being a surer guide than any amount of intellectualism could produce. lenine and his friends, the bolsheviki, bitterly opposed all this reasoning and took a diametrically opposite position upon every one of the questions involved. they absolutely opposed any sort of co-operation with bourgeois parties of any kind, for any purpose whatever. no matter how progressive a particular bourgeois party might be, nor how important the reform aimed at, they believed that social democrats should remain in "splendid isolation," refusing to make any distinction between more liberal and less liberal, progressive and reactionary, groups in the bourgeoisie. trotzky, who did not at first formally join the bolsheviki, but was a true bolshevik in his intellectual convictions and sympathies, fully shared this view. now, lenine and trotzky were dogmatic marxists, and as such they could not deny the contention that capitalism must attain a certain development before socialism could be attained in russia. nor could they deny that absolutism was an obstacle to the development both of capitalist industry and of socialism. they contended, however, that the peculiar conditions in russia, resulting from the retardation of her economic development for so long, made it both possible and necessary to create a revolutionary movement which would, at one and the same time, overthrow both autocracy and capitalism. necessarily, therefore, their warfare must be directed equally against autocracy and all political parties of the landlord and capitalist classes. they were guided throughout by this fundamental conviction. the policy of absolute and unqualified isolation in the duma, which they insisted the social democrats ought to pursue, was based upon that conviction. vi all this is quite clear and easily intelligible. granted the premise, the logic is admirable. it is not so easy, however, to see why, even granting the soundness of their opposition to _co-operation_ with bourgeois parties and groups in the duma, there should be no political _competition_ with them--which would seem to be logically implied in the boycott of the duma elections. non-participation in the elections, consistently pursued as a proletarian policy, would leave the proletariat unrepresented in the legislative body, without one representative to fight its battles on what the world universally regards as one of the most important battle-fields of civilization. and yet, here, too, they were entirely logical and consistent--they did not believe in parliamentary government. as yet, they were not disposed to emphasize this overmuch, not, apparently, because of any lack of candor and good faith, but rather because the substitute for parliamentary government had not sufficiently shaped itself in their minds. the desire not to be confused with the anarchists was another reason. because the bolsheviki and the anarchists both oppose parliamentary government and the political state, it has been concluded by many writers on the subject that bolshevism is simply anarchism in another guise. this is a mistake. bolshevism is quite different from and opposed to anarchism. it requires strongly centralized government, which anarchism abhors. parliamentary government cannot exist except upon the basis of the will of the majority. whoever enters into the parliamentary struggle, therefore, must hope and aim to convert the majority. back of that hope and aim must be faith in the intellectual and moral capacity of the majority. at the foundation of bolshevist theory and practice lies the important fact that there is no such faith, and, consequently, neither the hope nor the aim to convert the majority and with its strength make the revolution. out of the adult population of russia at that time approximately per cent. were peasants and less than per cent. belonged to the industrial proletariat. at that time something like per cent. of the people were illiterate. even in st. petersburg--where the standard of literacy was higher than in any other city--not more than per cent. of the people could sign their own names in , according to the most authentic government reports. when we contemplate such facts as these can we wonder that impatient revolutionaries should shrink from attempting the task of converting a majority of the population to an intelligent acceptance of socialism? there was another reason besides this, however. lenine--and he personifies bolshevism--was, and is, a doctrinaire marxist of the most dogmatic type conceivable. as such he believed that the new social order must be the creation of that class which is the peculiar product of modern capitalism, the industrial proletariat. to that class alone he and his followers pinned all their faith and hope, and that class was a small minority of the population and bound to remain a minority for a very long period of years. here, then, we have the key. it cannot be too strongly stressed that the bolsheviki did not base their hope upon the working class of russia, and did not trust it. the working class of russia--if we are to use the term with an intelligent regard to realities--was and is mainly composed of peasants; the industrial proletariat was and is only a relatively small part of the great working class of the nation. _but it is upon that small section, as against the rest of the working class, that bolshevism relies_. lenine has always refused to include the peasants in his definition of the working class. with almost fanatical intensity he has insisted that the peasant, together with the petty manufacturer and trader, would soon disappear; that industrial concentration would have its counterpart in a great concentration of landownings and agriculture; that the small peasant holdings would be swallowed up by large, modern agricultural estates, with the result that there would be an immense mass of landless agricultural wage-workers. this class would, of course, be a genuinely proletarian class, and its interests would be identical with those of the industrial proletariat. until that time came it would be dangerous to rely upon the peasants, he urged, because their instincts are bourgeois rather than proletarian. naturally, he has looked askance at the peasant socialist movements, denying that they were truly socialist at all. they could not be socialist movements in the true sense, he contended, because they lacked the essential quality of true socialists, namely, proletarian class consciousness. naturally, too, lenine and his followers have always regarded movements which aimed to divide the land among the peasants, and so tend to give permanence to a class of petty agriculturists, as essentially reactionary. the exigencies of the struggle have forced them into some compromises, of course. for example, at first they were not willing to admit that the peasants could be admitted into their group at all, but later on they admitted some who belonged to the poorest class of peasants. throughout, however, they have insisted that the peasant class as a whole was a class of petty bourgeoisie and that its instincts and interests would inevitably lead it to side with the bourgeoisie as against the proletariat. of course, this is a very familiar phase of socialist evolution in every country. it lasted in germany many years. in russia, however, the question assumed an importance it never had in any other country, owing to the vast preponderance of peasants in the population. anything more un-russian than this theorizing cannot be well conceived. it runs counter to every fact in russian experience, to the very basis of her economic life at this stage of her history. lenine is a russian, but his dogmas are not russian, but german. bolshevism is the product of perverted german scholasticism. even the industrial workers as a whole, in their present stage of development, were not to be trusted, according to the bolshevist leaders. they frankly opposed the mensheviki when the latter proposed to hold their great convention of industrial workers, giving as their reason the fear that the convention majority would not consist of class-conscious revolutionary marxian socialists. in other words, they feared that the majority would not be on their side, and they had not the time or the patience to convert them. there was no pretense of faith in the majority of the industrial proletariat, much less of faith in the entire working class of russia. the industrial proletariat was a minority of the working class, and the bolsheviki pinned their faith to a minority of that minority. they wanted to establish, not democracy, but dictatorship of russia by a small, disciplined, intelligent, and determined minority of working-men. the lines of cleavage between the mensheviki and the bolsheviki were thus clearly drawn. the former, while ready to join in mass uprisings and armed insurrections by the masses, believed that the supreme necessity was education and organization of all the working-people. still relying upon the industrial proletariat to lead the struggle, they nevertheless recognized that the peasants were indispensable. the bolsheviki, on the other hand, relied exclusively upon armed insurrection, initiated and directed by desperate minorities. the mensheviki contended that the time for secret, conspiratory action was past; that russia had outgrown that earlier method. as far as possible, they carried the struggle openly into the political field. they organized unions, educational societies, and co-operatives, confident that through these agencies the workers would develop cohesion and strength, which, at the right time, they would use as their class interests dictated. the bolsheviki, on the other hand, clung to the old conspiratory methods, always mastered by the idea that a sudden _coup_ must some day place the reins of power in the hands of a revolutionary minority of the workers and enable them to set up a dictatorship. that dictatorship, it must be understood, was not to be permanent; democracy, possibly even political democracy, would come later. as we have already noted, into the ranks of the terrorist socialist-revolutionaries and the bolsheviki spies and provocative agents wormed their way in large numbers. it is the inevitable fate of secret, conspiratory movements that this should be so, and also that it should result in saturating the minds of all engaged in the movements with distrust and suspicion. more than once the charge of being a provocateur was leveled at lenine and at trotzky, but without justification, apparently. there was, indeed, one incident which placed lenine in a bad light. it belongs to a somewhat later period than we have been discussing, but it serves admirably to illustrate conditions which obtained throughout the whole dark period between the two great revolutions. one of lenine's close friends and disciples was roman malinovsky, a fiery speaker of considerable power, distinguished for his bitter attacks upon the bourgeois progressive parties and upon the mensheviki. the tenor of his speeches was always the same--only the interest of the proletariat should be considered; all bourgeois political parties and groups were equally reactionary, and any co-operation with them, for any purpose, was a betrayal of socialist principle. malinovsky was trusted by the bolsheviki. he was elected to the fourth duma, where he became the leader of the little group of thirteen social democrats. like other members of the bolshevik faction, he entered the duma, despite his contempt for parliamentary action, simply because it afforded him a useful opportunity for agitation and demonstrations. in the duma he assailed even a portion of the social democratic group as belonging to the bourgeoisie, succeeding in splitting it in two factions and becoming the leader of the bolshevik faction, numbering six. this blatant demagogue, whom lenine called "the russian bebel," was proposed for membership in the international socialist bureau, the supreme council of the international socialist movement, and would have been sent as a delegate to that body as a representative of russian socialist movement but for the discovery of the fact that he was a secret agent of the czar's government! it was proved that malinovsky was a provocateur in the pay of the police department, and that many, if not all, of his speeches had been prepared for him in the police department by a former director named beletzky. the exposure made a great sensation in russian socialist circles at the time, and the fact that it was nikolai lenine who had proposed that malinovsky be chosen to sit in the international socialist bureau naturally caused a great deal of unfriendly comment. it cannot be denied that the incident placed lenine in an unfavorable light, but it must be admitted that nothing developed to suggest that he was guilty of anything more serious than permitting himself to be outwitted and deceived by a cunning trickster. the incident serves to show, however, the ease with which the extreme fanaticism of the bolsheviki played into the hands of the autocracy. vii while bolsheviki and mensheviki wrangled and disputed, great forces were at work among the russian people. by the terrible pall of depression and despair which had settled upon the nation as a result of the failure of the first revolution began to break. there was a new generation of college students, youthful and optimistic spirits who were undeterred by the failure of - , confident that they were wiser and certain to succeed. also there had been an enormous growth of working-class organizations, large numbers of unions and co-operative societies having been formed in spite of the efforts of the government. the soul of russia was once more stirring. the end of and the beginning of witnessed a new series of strikes, such as had not occurred since . the first were students' strikes, inaugurated in support of their demand for the abolition of capital punishment. these were quickly followed by important strikes in the industrial centers for economic ends--better wages and shorter working-hours. as in the period immediately preceding the first revolution, the industrial unrest soon manifested itself in political ways. without any conscious leadership at all this would have been inevitable in the existing circumstances. but there was leadership. social democrats of both factions, and socialists of other groups as well, moved among the workers, preaching the old, yet ever new, gospel of revolt. political strikes followed the strikes for immediate economic ends. throughout the latter part of and the whole of the revolutionary movement once more spread among the masses. the year was hardly well begun when revolutionary activities assumed formidable proportions. january th--russian calendar--anniversary of bloody sunday, was celebrated all over the country by great demonstrations which were really demonstration-strikes. in st. petersburg fifty-five thousand workers went out--and there were literally hundreds of other smaller "strikes" of a similar nature throughout the country. in april another anniversary of the martyrdom of revolting working-men was similarly celebrated in most of the industrial centers, hundreds of thousands of workers striking as a manifestation against the government. the st of may was celebrated as it had not been celebrated since . in the various industrial cities hundreds of thousands of workmen left their work to march through the streets and hold mass meetings, and so formidable was the movement that the government was cowed and dared not attempt to suppress it by force. there was a defiant note of revolution in this great uprising of the workers. they demanded an eight-hour day and the right to organize unions and make collective bargains. in addition to these demands, they protested against the balkan war and against militarism in general. had the great war not intervened, a tragic interlude in russia's long history of struggle, the year would have seen the greatest struggle for the overthrow of czarism in all that history. whether it would have been more successful than the effort of can never be known, but it is certain that the working-class revolutionary movement was far stronger than it was nine years before. on the other hand, there would not have been the same degree of support from the other classes, for in the intervening period class lines had been more sharply drawn and the class conflict greatly intensified. surging through the masses like a mighty tide was the spirit of revolt, manifesting itself much as it had done nine years before. all through the early months of the year the revolutionary temper grew. the workers became openly defiant and the government, held in check, doubtless, by the delicate balance of the international situation, dared not resort to force with sufficient vigor to stamp out the agitation. mass meetings were held in spite of all regulations to the contrary; political strikes occurred in all parts of the country. in st. petersburg and moscow barricades were thrown up in the streets as late as july. then the war clouds burst. a greater passion than that of revolution swept over the nation and it turned to present a united front to the external foe. chapter iii the war and the people i the war against austria and germany was not unpopular. certainly there was never an occasion when a declaration of war by their rulers roused so little resentment among the russian people. wars are practically never popular with the great mass of the people in any country, and this is especially true of autocratically governed countries. the heavy burdens which all great wars impose upon the laboring class, as well as upon the petty bourgeoisie, cause even the most righteous wars to be regarded with dread and sorrow. the memory of the war with japan was too fresh and too bitter to make it possible for the mass of the russian people to welcome the thought of another war. it cannot, therefore, in truth be said that the war with the central empires was popular. but it can be said with sincerity and the fullest sanction that the war was not unpopular; that it was accepted by the greater part of the people as a just and, moreover, a necessary war. opposition to the war was not greater in russia than in england or france, or, later, in america. of course, there were religious pacifists and socialists who opposed the war and denounced it, as they would have denounced any other war, on general principles, no matter what the issues involved might be, but their number and their influence were small and quite unimportant. the one great outstanding fact was the manner in which the sense of peril to the fatherland rallied to its defense the different races, creeds, classes, and parties, the great tidal wave of genuine and sincere patriotism sweeping everything before it, even the mighty, passionate revolutionary agitation. it can hardly be questioned or doubted that if the war had been bitterly resented by the masses it would have precipitated revolution instead of retarding it. from this point of view the war was a deplorable disaster. that no serious attempt was made to bring about a revolution at that time is the best possible evidence that the declaration of war did not enrage the people. if not a popular and welcome event, therefore, the declaration of war by the czar was not an unpopular one. never before since his accession to the throne had nicholas ii had the support of the nation to anything like the same extent. take the jews, for example. bitterly hated and persecuted as they had been, despised and humiliated beyond description; victims of the knout and the pogrom; tortured by cossacks and black hundreds; robbed by official extortions; their women shamed and ravaged and their babies doomed to rot and die in the noisome pale--the jews owed no loyalty to the czar or even to the nation. had they sought revenge in the hour of russia's crisis, in howsoever grim a manner, it would have been easy to understand their action and hard indeed to regard it with condemnation. it is almost unthinkable that the czar could have thought of the jews in his vast empire in those days without grave apprehension and fear. yet, as all the world knows, the jews resolutely overcame whatever suggestion of revenge came to them and, with marvelous solidarity, responded to russia's call without hesitation and without political intrigue or bargaining. as a whole, they were as loyal as any of the czar's subjects. how shall we explain this phenomenon? the explanation is that the leaders of the jewish people, and practically the whole body of jewish intellectuals, recognized from the first that the war was more than a war of conflicting dynasties; that it was a war of conflicting ideals. they recognized that the entente, as a whole, notwithstanding that it included the autocracy of russia, represented the generous, democratic ideals and principles vital to every jew in that they must be securely established before the emancipation of the jew could be realized. their hatred of czarism was not engulfed by any maudlin sentiment; they knew that they had no "fatherland" to defend. they were not swept on a tide of jingoism to forget their tragic history and proclaim their loyalty to the infamous oppressor. no. their loyalty was to the entente, not to the czar. they were guided by enlightened self-interest, by an intelligent understanding of the meaning to them of the great struggle against teutonic militarist-imperialism. every intelligent and educated jew in russia knew that the real source of the brutal anti-semitism which characterized the rule of the romanovs was prussian and not russian. he knew that it had long been one of the main features of germany's foreign policy to instigate and stimulate hatred and fear of the jews by russian officialdom. there could not be a more tragic mistake than to infer from the ruthless oppression of the jews in russia that anti-semitism is characteristically russian. surely, the fact that the first duma was practically unanimous in deciding to give equal rights to the jews with all the rest of the population proves that the russian people did not hate the jews. the ill-treatment of the jews was part of the policy by which germany, for her own ends, cunningly contrived to weaken russia and so prevent the development of her national solidarity. racial animosity and conflict was an ideal instrument for attaining that result. internal war and abortive revolutionary outbreaks which kept the country unsettled, and the energies of the government taxed to the uttermost, served the same end, and were, therefore, the object of germany's intrigues in russia, equally with hostility to the jews, as we shall have occasion to note. german intrigue in russia is an interesting study in economic determinism. unless we comprehend it we shall strive in vain to understand russia's part in the war and her rôle in the history of the past few decades. a brief study of the map of europe by any person who possesses even an elementary knowledge of the salient principles of economics will reveal germany's interest in russia and make quite plain why german statesmen have so assiduously aimed to keep russia in a backward economic condition. as a great industrial nation it was to germany's interest to have russia remain backward industrially, predominantly an agricultural country, quite as surely as it was to her interest as a military power to have weakness and inefficiency, instead of strength and efficiency, in russia's military organization. as a highly developed industrial nation russia would of necessity have been germany's formidable rival--perhaps her most formidable rival--and by her geographical situation would have possessed an enormous advantage in the exploitation of the vast markets in the far east. as a feudal agricultural country, on the other hand, russia would be a great market for german manufactured goods, and, at the same time, a most convenient supply-depot for raw materials and granary upon which germany could rely for raw materials, wheat, rye, and other staple grains--a supply-depot and granary, moreover, accessible by overland transportation not subject to naval attack. for the russian jew the defeat of germany was a vital necessity. the victory of germany and her allies could only serve to strengthen prussian influence in russia and add to the misery and suffering of the jewish population. that other factors entered into the determination of the attitude of the jews, such as, for example, faith in england as the traditional friend of the jew, and abhorrence at the cruel invasion of belgium, is quite true. but the great determinant was the well-understood fact that germany's rulers had long systematically manipulated russian politics and the russian bureaucracy to the serious injury of the jewish race. germany's militarist-imperialism was the soul and inspiration of the oppression which cursed every jew in russia. ii the democratic elements in russia were led to support the government by very similar reasoning. the same economic and dynastic motives which had led germany to promote racial animosities and struggles in russia led her to take every other possible means to uphold autocracy and prevent the establishment of democracy. this had been long recognized by all liberal russians, no matter to what political school or party they might belong. it was as much part of the common knowledge as the fact that st. petersburg was the national capital. it was part of the intellectual creed of practically every liberal russian that there was a natural affinity between the great autocracies of germany and russia, and that a revolution in russia which seriously endangered the existence of monarchical absolutism would be suppressed by prussian guns and bayonets reinforcing those of loyal russian troops. it was generally believed by russian socialists that in the kaiser had promised to send troops into russia to crush the revolution if called upon for that aid. many german socialists, it may be added, shared that belief. autocracies have a natural tendency to combine forces against revolutionary movements. it would have been no more strange for wilhelm ii to aid nicholas ii in quelling a revolution that menaced his throne than it was for alexander i to aid in putting down revolution in germany; or than it was for nicholas i to crush the hungarian revolution in , in the interest of francis joseph; or than it was for bismarck to rush to the aid of alexander ii in putting down the polish insurrection in . the democrats of russia knew, moreover, that, in addition to the natural affinity which served to bind the two autocracies, the romanov and hohenzollern dynasties had been closely knit together in a strong union by years and years of carefully planned and strongly wrought blood ties. as isaac don lenine reminds us in his admirable study of the russian revolution, nicholas ii was more than seven-eighths german, less than one-eighth of his blood heritage being romanov. catherine the great, wife of peter iii, was a prussian by birth and heritage and thoroughly prussianized her court. after her--from to --six czars reigned in russia, five of whom married german wives. as was inevitable in such circumstances, the russian court had long been notoriously subject to german influences and strongly pro-german in its sympathies--by no means a small matter in an autocratic country. fully aware of their advantage, the kaiser and his ministers increased the german influence and power at the russian court by encouraging german nobles to marry into russian court circles. the closing decade of the reign of nicholas ii was marked by an extraordinary increase of prussian influence in his court, an achievement in which the kaiser was greatly assisted by the czarina, who was, it will be remembered, a german princess. naturally, the german composition and character of the czar's court was reflected in the diplomatic service and in the most important departments of the russian government, including the army. the russian secret service was very largely in the hands of germans and russians who had married german wives. the same thing may be said of the police department. many of the generals and other high officers in the russian army were either of german parentage or connected with germany by marriage ties. in brief, the whole russian bureaucracy was honeycombed by german influence. outside official circles, much the same condition existed among the great landowners. those of the baltic provinces were largely of teutonic descent, of course. many had married german wives. the result was that the nobility of these provinces, long peculiarly influential in the political life of russia, was, to a very large degree, pro-german. in addition to these, there were numerous large landowners of german birth, while many, probably a big majority, of the superintendents of the large industrial establishments and landed estates were german citizens. it is notorious that the principal factories upon which russia had to rely for guns and munitions were in charge of germans, who had been introduced because of their high technical efficiency. in view of these facts, and a mass of similar facts which might be cited, it was natural for the democrats of russia to identify germany and german intrigue and influence with the hated bureaucracy. it was as natural as it was for the german influence to be used against the democratic movement in russia, as it invariably was. practically the entire mass of democratic opinion in russia, including, of course, all the socialist factions, regarded these royal, aristocratic, and bureaucratic german influences as a menace to russia, a cancer that must be cut out. with the exception of a section of the socialists, whose position we shall presently examine, the mass of liberal-thinking, progressive, democratic russians saw in the war a welcome breaking of the german yoke. believing that the victory of germany would restore the yoke, and that her defeat by russia would eliminate the power which had sustained czarism, they welcomed the war and rallied with enthusiasm at the call to arms. they were loyal, but to russia, not to the czar. they felt that in warring against prussian militarist-imperialism they were undermining russian absolutism. that the capitalists of russia should want to see the power of germany to hold russia in chains completely destroyed is easy to understand. to all intents and purposes, from the purely economic point of view, russia was virtually a german colony to be exploited for the benefit of germany. the commercial treaties of , which gave germany such immense trade advantages, had become exceedingly unpopular. on the other hand, the immense french loan of , the greater part of which had been used to develop the industrial life of russia, had the effect of bringing russian capitalists into closer relations with french capitalists. for further capital russia could only look to france and england with any confident hope. above all, the capitalists of russia wanted freedom for economic development; they wanted stability and national unity, the very things germany was preventing. they wanted efficient government and the elimination of the terrible corruption which infested the bureaucracy. the law of economic evolution was inexorable and inescapable; the capitalist system could not grow within the narrow confines of absolutism. for the russian capitalist class, therefore, it was of the most vital importance that germany's power should not be increased, as it would of necessity be if the entente submitted to her threats and permitted serbia to be crushed by austria, and the furtherance of the pan-german _mitteleuropa_ designs. it was vitally necessary to russian capitalism that germany's strangle-hold upon the inner life of russia should be broken. the issue was not the competition of capitalism, as that is commonly understood; it was not the rivalry for markets like that which animates the capitalist classes of all lands. the russian capitalist class was animated by no fear of german competition in the sense in which the nations of the world have understood that term. they had their own vast home market to develop. the industrialization of the country must transform a very large part of the peasantry into factory artisans living in cities, having new needs and relatively high wages, and, consequently, more money to spend. for many years to come their chief reliance must be the home market, constantly expanding as the relative importance of manufacturing increased and forced improved methods of agriculture upon the nation in the process, as it was bound to do. it was germany as a persistent meddler in russian government and politics that the capitalists of russia resented. it was the unfair advantage that this underhand political manipulation gave her in their own home field that stirred up the leaders of the capitalist class of russia. that, and the knowledge that german intrigue by promoting divisions in russia was the mainstay of the autocracy, solidified the capitalist class of russia in support of the war. there was a small section of this class that went much farther than this and entertained more ambitious hopes. they realized fully that turkey had already fallen under the domination of germany to such a degree that in the event of a german victory in the war, or, what really amounted to the same thing, the submission of the entente to her will, germany would become the ruler of the dardanelles and european turkey be in reality, and perhaps in form, part of the german empire. such a development could not fail, they believed, to have the most disastrous consequences for russia. inevitably, it would add to german prestige and power in the russian empire, and weld together the hohenzollern, habsburg, and romanov autocracies in a solid, reactionary mass, which, under the efficient leadership of germany, might easily dominate the entire world. moreover, like many of the ablest russians, including the foremost marxian socialist scholars, they believed that the normal economic development of russia required a free outlet to the warm waters of the mediterranean, which alone could give her free access to the great ocean highways. therefore they hoped that one result of a victorious war by the entente against the central empires, in which russia would play an important part, would be the acquisition of constantinople by russia. thus the old vision of the czars had become the vision of an influential and rising class with a solid basis of economic interest. iii as in every other country involved, the socialist movement was sharply divided by the war. paradoxical as it seems, in spite of the great revival of revolutionary hope and sentiment in the first half of the year, the socialist parties and groups were not strong when the war broke out. they were, indeed, at a very low state. they had not yet recovered from the reaction. the manipulation of the electoral laws following the dissolution of the second duma, and the systematic oppression and repression of all radical organizations by the administration, had greatly reduced the socialist parties in membership and influence. the masses were, for a long time, weary of struggle, despondent, and passive. the socialist factions meanwhile were engaged in an apparently interminable controversy upon theoretical and tactical questions in which the masses of the working-people, when they began to stir at last, took no interest, and which they could hardly be supposed to understand. the socialist parties and groups were subject to a very great disability in that their leaders were practically all in exile. had a revolution broken out, as it would have done but for the war, socialist leadership would have asserted itself. as in all other countries, the divisions of opinion created by the war among the socialists cut across all previous existing lines of separation and made it impossible to say that this or that faction adopted a particular view. just as in germany, france, and england, some of the most revolutionary socialists joined with the more moderate socialists in upholding the war, while extremely moderate socialists joined with socialists of the opposite extreme in opposing it. it is possible, however, to set forth the principal features of the division with tolerable accuracy: a majority of the socialist-revolutionary party executive issued an anti-war manifesto. there is no means of telling how far the views expressed represented the attitude of the peasant socialists as a whole, owing to the disorganized state of the party and the difficulties of assembling the members. the manifesto read: there is no doubt that austrian imperialism is responsible for the war with serbia. but is it not equally criminal on the part of serbs to refuse autonomy to macedonia and to oppress smaller and weaker nations? it is the protection of this state that our government considers its "sacred duty." what hypocrisy! imagine the intervention of the czar on behalf of poor serbia, whilst he martyrizes poland, finland and the jews, and behaves like a brigand toward persia. whatever may be the course of events, the russian workers and peasants will continue their heroic fight to obtain for russia a place among civilized nations. this manifesto was issued, as reported in the socialist press, prior to the actual declaration of war. it was a threat of revolution made with a view to preventing the war, if possible, and belongs to the same category as the similar threats of revolution made by the german socialists before the war to the same end. the mildness of manner which characterizes the manifesto may be attributed to two causes--weakness of the movement and a resulting lack of assurance, together with a lack of conviction arising from the fact that many of the leaders, while they hated the czar and all his works, and could not reconcile themselves to the idea of making any kind of truce with their great enemy, nevertheless were pro-ally and anxious for the defeat of german imperialism. in other words, these leaders shared the national feeling against germany, and, had they been free citizens of a democratically governed country, would have loyally supported the war. when the duma met, on august th, for the purpose of voting the war credits, the social democrats of both factions, bolsheviki and mensheviki, fourteen in number,[ ] united upon a policy of abstention from voting. valentin khaustov, on behalf of the two factions, read this statement: a terrible and unprecedented calamity has broken upon the people of the entire world. millions of workers have been torn away from their labor, ruined, and swept away by a bloody torrent. millions of families have been delivered over to famine. war has already begun. while the governments of europe were preparing for it, the proletariat of the entire world, with the german workers at the head, unanimously protested. the hearts of the russian workers are with the european proletariat. this war is provoked by the policy of expansion for which the ruling classes of all countries are responsible. the proletariat will defend the civilization of the world against this attack. the conscious proletariat of the belligerent countries has not been sufficiently powerful to prevent this war and the resulting return of barbarism. but we are convinced that the working class will find in the international solidarity of the workers the means to force the conclusion of peace at an early date. the terms of that peace will be dictated by the people themselves, and not by the diplomats. we are convinced that this war will finally open the eyes of the great masses of europe, and show them the real causes of all the violence and oppression that they endure, and that therefore this new explosion of barbarism will be the last. as soon as this declaration was read the fourteen members of the social democratic group left the chamber in silence. they were immediately followed by the laborites and socialist-revolutionists representing the peasant socialists, so that none of the socialists in the duma voted for the war credits. as we shall see later on, the laborites and most of the socialist-revolutionists afterward supported the war. the declaration of the social democrats in the duma was as weak and as lacking in definiteness of policy as the manifesto of the socialist-revolutionists already quoted. we know now that it was a compromise. it was possible to get agreement upon a statement of general principles which were commonplaces of socialist propaganda, and to vaguely expressed hopes that "the working class will find in the international solidarity of the workers the means to force the conclusion of peace at an early date." it was easy enough to do this, but it would have been impossible to unite upon a definite policy of resistance and opposition to the war. it was easy to agree not to vote for the war credits, since there was no danger that this would have any practical effect, the voting of the credits--largely a mere form--being quite certain. it would have been impossible to get all to agree to vote _against_ the credits. under the strong leadership of alexander kerensky the labor party soon took a decided stand in support of the war. in the name of the entire group of the party's representatives in the duma, kerensky read at an early session a statement which pledged the party to defend the fatherland. "we firmly believe," said kerensky, "that the great flower of russian democracy, together with all the other forces, will throw back the aggressive enemy and _will defend their native land_." the party had decided, he said, to support the war "in defense of the land of our birth and of our civilization created by the blood of our race.... we believe that through the agony of the battle-field the brotherhood of the russian people will be strengthened and a common desire created to free the land from its terrible internal troubles." kerensky declared that the workers would take no responsibility for the suicidal war into which the governments of europe had plunged their peoples. he strongly criticized the government, but ended, nevertheless, in calling upon the peasants and industrial workers to support the war: "the socialists of england, belgium, france, and germany have tried to protest against rushing into war. we russian socialists were not able at the last to raise our voices freely against the war. but, deeply convinced of the brotherhood of the workers of all lands, we send our brotherly greetings to all who protested against the preparations for this fratricidal conflict of peoples. remember that russian citizens have no enemies among the working classes of the belligerents! _protect your country to the end against aggression by the states whose governments are hostile to us, but remember that there would not have been this terrible war had the great ideals of democracy, freedom, equality, and brotherhood been directing the activities of those who control the destinies of russia and other lands!_ as it is, our authorities, even in this terrible moment, show no desire to forget internal strife, grant no amnesty to those who have fought for freedom and the country's happiness, show no desire for reconciliation with the non-russian peoples of the empire. "and, instead of relieving the condition of the laboring classes of the people, the government puts on them especially the heaviest load of the war expenses, by tightening the yoke of indirect taxes. "peasants and workers, all who want the happiness and well-being of russia in these great trials, harden your spirit! gather all your strength and, having defended your land, free it; and to you, our brothers, who are shedding blood for the fatherland, a profound obeisance and fraternal greetings." kerensky's statement was of tremendous significance. made on behalf of the entire group of which he was leader, it reflected the sober second thought of the representatives of the peasant socialists and socialistically inclined radicals. their solemnly measured protest against the reactionary policy of the government was as significant as the announcement that they would support the war. it was a fact that at the very time when national unity was of the most vital importance the government was already goading the people into despairing revolt. that a section of the bolsheviki began a secret agitation against the war, aiming at a revolt among the soldiers, regardless of the fact that it would mean russia's defeat and germany's triumph, is a certainty. the government soon learned of this movement and promptly took steps to crush it. many russian socialists have charged that the policy of the bolsheviki was inspired by provocateurs in the employ of the police, and by them betrayed. others believe that the policy was instigated by german provocateurs, for very obvious purposes. it was not uncommon for german secret agents to worm their way into the russian socialist ranks, nor for the agents of the russian police to keep the german secret service informed of what was going on in russian socialist circles. whatever truth there may be in the suspicion that the anti-war bolshevik faction of the social democrats were the victims of the russian police espionage system, and were betrayed by one whom they had trusted, as the socialist-revolutionists had been betrayed by azev, the fact remains that the government ordered the arrest of five of the bolshevist social democratic members of the duma, on november th. never before had the government disregarded the principle of parliamentary immunity. when members of the first duma, belonging to various parties, and members of the second duma, belonging to the social democratic party, were arrested it was only after the duma had been formally dissolved. the arrest of the five social democrats while the duma was still sitting evoked a strong protest, even from the conservatives. the government based its action upon the following allegations, which appear to have been substantially correct: in october arrangements were made to convoke a secret conference of delegates of the social democratic organization to plan for a revolutionary uprising. the police learned of the plan, and when at last, on november th, the conference was held at viborg, eight miles from petrograd--as the national capital was now called--a detachment of police found eleven persons assembled, including five members of the imperial duma, messrs. petrovsky, badavev, mouranov, samoelov, and chagov. the police arrested six persons, but did not arrest the duma members, on account of their parliamentary position. an examining magistrate, however, indicted the whole eleven who attended the conference, under article no. of the penal code, and issued warrants for their arrest. among those arrested was kamanev, one of lenine's closest friends, who behaved so badly at his trial, manifesting so much cowardice, that he was censured by his party. at this conference, according to the government, arrangements were made to circulate among the masses a manifesto which declared that "from the viewpoint of the working class and of the laboring masses of all the nations of russia, the defeat of the monarchy of the czar and of its armies would be of extremely little consequence." the manifesto urged the imperative necessity of _carrying on on all sides the propaganda of the social revolution among the army and at the theater of the war, and that weapons should be directed not against their brothers, the hired slaves of other countries, but against the reactionary bourgeois governments_. the manifesto went on, according to the government, to favor the organization of a similar propaganda in all languages, among all the armies, with the aim of creating republics in russia, poland, germany, austria, and all other european countries, these to be federated into a republican united stares of europe. the declaration that the defeat of the russian armies would be "of extremely little consequence" to the workers became the key-note of the anti-war agitation of the bolsheviki. lenine and zinoviev, still in exile, adopted the view that the defeat of russia was _actually desirable_ from the point of view of the russian working class. "we are russians, and for that very reason we want czarism to be defeated," was the cry.[ ] in his paper, the _social democrat_, published in switzerland, lenine advocated russian defeat, to be brought about through treachery and revolt in the army, as the best means of furthering revolutionary progress. the majority of the bolshevik faction made common cause with the extreme left-wing socialists of the socialist-revolutionary party, who shared their views and became known as "porazhentsi"--that is, advocates of defeat. naturally, the charge was made that they were pro-german, and it was even charged that they were in the pay of germany. possibly some of them were, but it by no means follows that because they desired russia's defeat they were therefore consciously pro-german. they were not pro-german, but anti-czarists. they believed quite honestly, most of them, that russia's defeat was the surest and quickest way of bringing about the revolution in russia which would overthrow czarism. in many respects their position was quite like that of those irish rebels who desired to see england defeated, even though it meant germany's triumph, not because of any love for germany, but because they hated england and believed that her defeat would be ireland's opportunity. however short-sighted and stupid such a policy may be judged to be, it is quite comprehensible and should not be misrepresented. it is a remarkable fact that the bolsheviki, while claiming to be the most radical and extreme internationalists, were in practice the most narrow nationalists. they were exactly as narrow in their nationalism as the sinn-feiners of ireland. they were not blind to the terrible wrongs inflicted upon belgium, or to the fact that germany's victory over russia would make it possible for her to crush the western democracies, france and england. but neither to save belgium nor to prevent german militarism crushing french and english workers under its iron heel would they have the russian workers make any sacrifice. they saw, and cared only for, what they believed to be _russian_ interests. iv but during the first months of the war the porazhentsi--including the bolsheviki--were a very small minority. the great majority of the socialist-revolutionists rallied to the support of the allied cause. soon after the war began a socialist manifesto to the laboring masses of russia was issued. it bore the signature of many of the best-known russian socialists, representing all the socialist factions and groups except the bolsheviki. among the names were those of george plechanov, leo deutsch, gregory alexinsky, n. avksentiev, b. vorovonov, i. bunakov, and a. bach--representing the best thought of the movement in practically all its phases. this document is of the greatest historical importance, not merely because it expressed the sentiments of socialists of so many shades, but even more because of its carefully reasoned arguments why socialists should support the war and why the defeat of germany was essential to russian and international social democracy. despite its great length, the manifesto is here given in its entirety: we, the undersigned, belong to the different shades of russian socialistic thought. we differ on many things, but we firmly agree in that the defeat of russia in her struggle with germany would mean her defeat in her struggle for freedom, and we think that, guided by this conviction, our adherents in russia must come together for a common service to their people, in the hour of the grave danger the country is now facing. we address ourselves to the politically conscious working-men, peasants, artisans, clerks--to all of those who earn their bread in the sweat of their brow, and who, suffering from the lack of means and want of political rights, are struggling for a better future for themselves, for their children, and for their brethren. we send them our hearty greeting, and persistently say to them: listen to us in this fatal time, when the enemy has conquered the western strongholds of russia, has occupied an important part of our territory and is menacing kiev, petrograd, and moscow, these most important centers of our social life. misinformed people may tell you that in defending yourselves from german invasion you support our old political régime. these people want to see russia defeated because of their hatred of the czar's government. like one of the heroes of our genius of satire, shchedrin, they mix fatherland with its temporary bosses. but russia belongs not to the czar, but to the russian working-people. in defending russia, the working-people defend themselves, defend the road to their freedom. as we said before, the inevitable consequences of german victory would be the strengthening of our old régime. the russian reactionaries understand this very thoroughly. _in a faint, half-hearted manner they are defending russia from germany_. the ministers who resigned recently, maklakov and shcheglovitov, presented a secret report to the czar, in november, , in which they explained how advantageous it would be for the czar to make a separate peace with germany. _they understand that the defeat of germany would be a defeat of the principles of monarchism, so dear to all our european reactionaries_. our people will never forget _the failure of the czar's government to defend russia_. but if the progressive, the politically conscious people will not take part in the struggle against germany, the czar's government will have an excuse for saying: "it is not our fault that germany defeats us; it is the fault of the revolutionists who have betrayed their country," and this will vindicate the government in the eyes of the people. the political situation in russia is such that only across the bridge of national defense can we reach freedom. remember, _we do not tell you, first victory against the external enemy and then revolution against the internal, the czar's government_. in the course of events the defeat of the czar's government may serve as a necessary preliminary condition for, and even as a guaranty of, the elimination of the german danger. the french revolutionists of the end of the eighteenth century would never have been able to have overcome the enemy, attacking france on all sides, had they not adopted such tactics only when the popular movement against the old régime became mature enough to render their efforts effective. furthermore, you must not be embarrassed by the arguments of those who believe that every one who defends his country refuses thereby to take part in the struggle of the classes. these persons do not know what they are talking about. in the first place, in order that the struggle of the classes in russia should be successful, certain social and political conditions must exist there. _these conditions will not exist if germany wins_. in the second place, if the working-man of russia cannot but defend himself against the exploitation of the russian landed aristocrat and capitalist it seems incomprehensible that he should remain inactive when the lasso of exploitation is being drawn around his neck by the german landed aristocracy (the _junker_) and the german capitalist who are, unfortunately, at the present time _supported by a considerable part of the german proletariat that has turned traitor to its duty of solidarity with the proletariat of other countries_. by striving to the utmost to cut this lasso of german imperialistic exploitation, the proletariat of russia will continue the struggle of the classes in that form which at the present moment is most appropriate, fruitful, and effective. it has been our country's fate once before to suffer from the bloody horrors of a hostile invasion. but never before did it have to defend itself against an enemy so well armed, so skilfully organized, so carefully prepared for his plundering enterprise as he is now. the position of the country is dangerous to the highest degree; therefore upon all of you, upon all the politically conscious children of the working-people of russia, lies an enormous responsibility. if you say to yourselves that it is immaterial to you and to your less developed brothers as to who wins in this great international collision going on now, and if you act accordingly, russia will be crushed by germany. and when russia will be crushed by germany, it will fare badly with the allies. this does not need any demonstration. but if, on the contrary, you become convinced that the defeat of russia will reflect badly upon the interests of the working population, and if you will help the self-defense of our country with all your forces, our country and her allies will escape the terrible danger menacing them. therefore, go deeply into the situation. you make a great mistake if you imagine that it is not to the interests of the working-people to defend our country. in reality, nobody's interests suffer more terribly from the invasion of an enemy than the interests of the working-population. take, for instance, the franco-prussian war of - . when the germans besieged paris and the cost of all the necessaries of life rose enormously, it was clear that the poor suffered much more than the rich. in the same way, when germany exacted five billions of contribution from vanquished france, this same, in the final count, was paid by the poor; for paying that contribution indirect taxation was greatly raised, the burden of which nearly entirely falls on the lower classes. more than that. the most dangerous consequence to france, due to her defeat in - , was the retardation of her economic development. in other words, the defeat of france badly reflected upon the contemporary interests of her people, and, even more, upon her entire subsequent development. the defeat of russia by germany will much more injure our people than the defeat of france injured the french people. the war now exacts incredibly large expenditures. it is more difficult for russia, a country economically backward, to bear that expenditure than for the wealthy states of western europe. russia's back, even before the war, was burdened with a heavy state loan. now this debt is growing by the hour, and vast regions of russia are subject to wholesale devastation. if the germans will win the final victory, they will demand from us an enormous contribution, in comparison with which the streams of gold that poured into victorious germany from vanquished france, after the war of , will seem a mere trifle. but that will not be all. the most consequent and outspoken heralds of german imperialism are even now saying that it is necessary to exact from russia the cession of important territory, which should be cleared from the present population for the greater convenience of german settlers. never before have plunderers, dreaming of despoiling a conquered people, displayed such cynical heartlessness! but for our vanquishers it will not be enough to exact an unheard-of enormous contribution and to tear up our western borderlands. already, in , russia, being in a difficult situation, was obliged to conclude a commercial treaty with germany, very disadvantageous to herself. the treaty hindered, at the same time, the development of our agriculture and the progress of our industries. it affected, with equal disadvantage, the interests of the farmers as well as of those engaged in industry. it is easy to imagine what kind of a treaty victorious german imperialism would impose upon us. in economic matters, russia would become a german colony. russia's further economic development would be greatly hindered if not altogether stopped. degeneration and deprivation would be the result of german victory for an important part of the russian working-people. what will german victory bring to western europe? after all we have already said, it is needless to expatiate on how many of the unmerited economic calamities it will bring to the people of the western countries allied to russia. we wish to draw your attention to the following: england, france, even belgium and italy, are, in a political sense, far ahead of the german empire, which has not as yet grown up to a parliamentary régime. german victory over these countries would be the victory of the old over the new, and if the democratic ideal is dear to you, you must wish success to our western allies. indifference to the result of this war would be, for us, equal to political suicide. the most important, the most vital interests of the proletariat and of the laboring peasantry demand of you an active participation in the defense of the country. your watchword must be victory over the foreign enemy. in an active movement toward such victory, the live forces of the people will become free and strong. obedient to this watchword, you must be as wise as serpents. although in your hearts may burn the flame of noble indignation, in your heads must reign, invariably, cold political reckoning. you must know that zeal without reason is sometimes worse than complete indifference. every act of agitation in the rear of the army, fighting against the enemy, would be equivalent to high treason, as it would be a service to the foreign enemy. the thunders of the war certainly cannot make the russian manufacturers and merchants more idealistic than they were in time of peace. in the filling of the numerous orders, inevitable during the mobilization of industry for war needs, the capitalists will, as they are accustomed to, take great care of the interests of capital, and will not take care of the interests of hired labor. you will be entirely right if you wax indignant at their conduct. but in all cases, whenever you desire to answer by a strike, you must first think whether such action would not be detrimental to the cause of the defense of russia. the private must be subject to the general. the workmen of every factory must remember that they would commit, without any doubt, the gravest mistake if, considering only their own interests, they forget how severely the interests of the entire russian proletariat and peasantry would suffer from german victory. the tactics which can be defined by the motto, "all or nothing," are the tactics of anarchy, fully unworthy of the conscious representatives of the proletariat and peasantry. the general staff of the german army would greet with pleasure the news that we had adopted such tactics. _believe us that this staff is ready to help all those who would like to preach it in our country_. they want trouble in russia, they want strikes in england, they want everything that would facilitate the achievement of their conquering schemes. but you will not make them rejoice. you will not forget the words of our great fabulist: "what the enemy advises is surely bad." you must insist that all your representatives take the most active part in all organizations created now, under the pressure of public opinion, for the struggle with the foe. your representatives must, if possible, take part not only in the work of the special technical organizations, such as the war-industrial committees which have been created for the needs of the army, but also in all other organizations of social and political character. the situation is such that we cannot come to freedom in any other way than by the war of national defense. that the foregoing manifesto expressed the position of the vast majority of russian socialists there can be no doubt whatever. between this position and that of the porazhentsi with their doctrine that russia's defeat by germany was desirable, there was a middle ground, which was taken by a not inconsiderable number of socialists, including such able leaders as paul axelrod. those who took up this intermediate position were both anti-czarists and anti-german-imperialists. they were pro-ally in the large sense, and desired to see the allies win over the central empires, if not a "crushing" victory, a very definite and conclusive one. but they regarded the alliance of czarism with the allies as an unnatural marriage. they believed that autocratic russia's natural alliance was with autocratic germany and austria. their hatred of czarism led them to wish for its defeat, even by germany, provided the victory were not so great as to permit germany to extend her domain over russia or any large part of it. their position became embodied in the phrase, "victory by the allies on the west and russia's defeat on the east." this was, of course, utterly unpractical theorizing and bore no relation to reality. v thanks in part to the vigorous propaganda of such leaders as plechanov, deutsch, bourtzev, tseretelli, kerensky, and many others, and in part to the instinctive good sense of the masses, support of the war by socialists of all shades and factions--except the extreme bolsheviki and the so-called "internationalist" sections of mensheviki and socialist-revolutionists--became general. the anti-war minority was exceedingly small and had no hold upon the masses. had the government been both wise and honestly desirous of presenting a united front to the foe, and to that end made intelligent and generous concessions to the democratic movement, it is most unlikely that russia would have collapsed. as it was, the government adopted a policy which could not fail to weaken the military force of the nation--a policy admirably suited to german needs. extremes meet. on the one hand there were the porazhentsi socialists, contending that the interests of progress would be best served by a german victory over russia, and plotting to weaken and corrupt the morale of the russian army and to stir up internal strife to that end. on the other hand, within the royal court, and throughout the bureaucracy, reactionary pro-german officials were animated by the belief that the victory of germany was essential to the permanence of absolutism and autocratic government. they, too, like the socialist "defeatists," aimed to weaken and corrupt the morale of the army and to divide the nation. these germanophiles in places of power realized that they had unconscious but exceedingly useful allies in the socialist intransigents. actuated by motives however high, the latter played into the hands of the most corrupt and reactionary force that ever infested the old régime. this force, the reactionary germanophiles, had from the very first hoped and believed that germany would win the war. they had exerted every ounce of pressure they could command to keep the czar from maintaining the treaty with france and entering into the war on her side against germany and austria. when they failed in this, they bided their time, full of confidence that the superior efficiency of the german military machine would soon triumph. but when they witnessed the great victorious onward rush of the russian army, which for a time manifested such a degree of efficiency as they had never believed to be possible, they began to bestir themselves. from this quarter came the suggestion, very early in the war, as plechanov and his associates charged in their manifesto, that the czar ought to make an early peace with germany. they went much farther than this. through every conceivable channel they contrived to obstruct russia's military effort. they conspired to disorganize the transportation system, the hospital service, the food-supply, the manufacture of munitions. they, too, in a most effective manner, were plotting to weaken and corrupt the morale of the army. there was universal uneasiness. in the allied chancelleries there was fear of a treacherous separate peace between russia and germany. it was partly to avert that catastrophe by means of a heavy bribe that england undertook the forcing of the dardanelles. all over russia there was an awakening of the memories of the graft that ate like a canker-worm at the heart of the nation. men told once more the story of the russian general in manchuria, in , who, when asked why fifty thousand men were marching barefoot, answered that the boots were in the pocket of grand-duke vladimir! they told again the story of the cases of "shells" for the manchurian army which were intercepted in the nation's capital, _en route_ to moscow, and found to contain--paving-stones! how general kuropatkin managed to amass a fortune of over six million rubles during the war with japan was remembered. fear that the same kind of treason was being perpetrated grew almost to the panic point. so bad were conditions in the army, so completely had the germanophile reactionaries sabotaged the organization, that the people themselves took the matter in hand. municipalities all over the country formed a union of cities to furnish food, clothes, and other necessaries to the army. the national union of zemstvos did the same thing. more than three thousand institutions were established on the different russian fronts by the national union of zemstvos. these institutions included hospitals, ambulance stations, feeding stations for troops on the march, dental stations, veterinary stations, factories for manufacturing supplies, motor transportation services, and so on through a long catalogue of things which the administration absolutely failed to provide. the same great organization furnished millions of tents and millions of pairs of boots and socks. civil russia was engaged in a great popular struggle to overcome incompetence, corruption, and sabotage in the bureaucracy. for this work the civilian agencies were not thanked by the government. instead, they were oppressed and hindered. against them was directed the hate of the dark forces of the "occult government" and at the same time the fierce opposition and scorn of men who called themselves socialists and champions of proletarian freedom! there was treachery in the general staff and throughout the war department, at the very head of which was a corrupt traitor, sukhomlinov. it was treachery in the general staff which led to the tragic disasters in east prussia. the great drive of the austrian and german armies in , which led to the loss of poland, lithuania, and large parts of volhynia and courland, and almost entirely eliminated russia from the war, was unquestionably brought about by co-operation with the german general staff on the part of the sinister "occult government," as the germanophile reactionary conspiracy in the highest circles came to be known. no wonder that plechanov and his friends in their manifesto to the russian workers declared that the reactionaries were defending russia from subjugation by germany in "a half-hearted way," and that "our people will never forget the failure of the czar's government to defend russia." they were only saying, in very moderate language, what millions were thinking; what, a few months later, many of the liberal spokesmen of the country were ready to say in harsher language. as early as january, , the duma met and cautiously expressed its alarm. in july it met again, many of the members coming directly from the front, in uniform. only the fear that a revolution would make the continuance of the war impossible prevented a revolution at that time. the duma was in a revolutionary mood. miliukov, for example, thundered: " ... in january we came here with ... the feeling of patriotic alarm. we then kept this feeling to ourselves. yet in closed sessions of committees we told the government all that filled the soul of the people. the answer we received did not calm us; it amounted to saying that the government could get along without us, without our co-operation. to-day we have convened in a grave moment of trial for our fatherland. the patriotic alarm of the people has proved to be well founded, to the misfortune of our country. secret things have become open, and the assertions of half a year ago have turned out to be mere words. yet the country cannot be satisfied with words. _the people wish to take affairs into their own hands and to correct what has been neglected. the people look upon us as legal executors of their will_." kerensky spoke to the same general effect, adding, "_i appeal to the people themselves to take into their hands the salvation of the country and fight for a full right to govern the state_." the key-note of revolution was being sounded now. for the spirit of revolution breathed in the words, "the people wish to take affairs into their own hands," and in kerensky's challenge, "i appeal to the people themselves to take into their hands the salvation of the country." the duma was the logical center around which the democratic forces of the country could rally. its moderate character determined this. only its example was necessary to the development of a great national movement to overthrow the old régime with its manifold treachery, corruption, and incompetence. when, on august d, the progressive bloc was formed by a coalition of constitutional democrats, progressives, nationalists, and octobrists--the last-named group having hitherto generally supported the government--there was a general chorus of approval throughout the country, if the program of the bloc was not radical enough to satisfy the various socialist groups, even the laborites, led by kerensky, it was, nevertheless, a program which they could support in the main, as far as it went. all over the country there was approval of the demand for a responsible government. the municipal councils of the large cities passed resolutions in support of it. the great associations of manufacturers supported it. all over the nation the demand for a responsible government was echoed. it was generally believed that the czar and his advisers would accept the situation and accede to the popular demand. but once more the influence of the reactionaries triumphed, and on september d came the defiant answer of the government to the people. it was an order suspending the duma indefinitely. the gods make mad those whom they would destroy. things went from bad to worse. more and more oppressive grew the government; more and more stupidly brutal and reactionary in its dealings with the wide-spread popular unrest. heavier and heavier grew the burden of unscientific and unjustly distributed taxation. worse and worse became the condition of the soldiers at the front; ever more scandalous the neglect of the sick and wounded. incompetence, corruption, and treason combined to hurry the nation onward to a disastrous collapse. the germanophiles were still industriously at work in the most important and vital places, practising sabotage upon a scale never dreamed of before in the history of any nation. they played upon the fears of the miserable weakling who was the nominal ruler of the vast russian empire, and frightened him into sanctioning the most suicidal policy of devising new measures of oppression instead of making generous concessions. russia possessed food in abundance, being far better off in this respect than any other belligerent on either side, yet russia was in the grip of famine. there was a vast surplus of food grains and cereals over and above the requirements of the army and the civilian population, yet there was wide-spread hunger. prices rose to impossible levels. the most astonishing anarchy and disorganization characterized the administration of the food-supply. it was possible to get fresh butter within an hour's journey from moscow for twenty-five cents a pound, but in moscow the price was two and a half dollars a pound. here, as throughout the nation, incompetence was reinforced by corruption and pro-german treachery. many writers have called attention to the fact that even in normal times the enormous exportation of food grains in russia went on side by side with per capita underconsumption by the peasants whose labor produced the great harvests, amounting to not less than per cent. now, of course, conditions were far worse. when the government was urged to call a convention of national leaders to deal with the food situation it stubbornly refused. more than that, it made war upon the only organizations which were staving off famine and making it possible for the nation to endure. every conceivable obstacle was placed in the way of the national union of zemstvos and the union of cities; the co-operative associations, which were rendering valuable service in meeting the distress of working-men's families, were obstructed and restricted in every possible way, their national offices being closed by the police. the officials of the labor-unions who were co-operating with employers in substituting arbitration in place of strikes, establishing soup-kitchens and relief funds, and doing other similar work to keep the nation alive, were singled out for arrest and imprisonment. the black hundreds were perniciously active in all this oppression and in the treacherous advocacy of a separate peace with germany. in october, , a conference of chairmen of province zemstvos adopted and published a resolution which declared: the tormenting and horrifying suspicion, the sinister rumors of perfidy and treason, of dark forces working in favor of germany to destroy the unity of the nation, to sow discord and thus prepare conditions for an ignominious peace, have now reached the clear certainty that the hand of the enemy secretly influences the affairs of our state. vi an adequate comprehension of the things set forth in this terrible summary is of the highest importance to every one who would attempt the task of reaching an intelligent understanding of the mighty upheaval in russia and its far-reaching consequences. the russian revolution of was not responsible for the disastrous separate peace with germany. the foundations for that were laid by the reactionaries of the old régime. it was the logical outcome of their long-continued efforts. lenine, trotzky, and their bolshevist associates were mere puppets, simple tools whose visions, ambitions, and schemes became the channels through which the conspiracy of the worst reactionaries in russia realized one part of an iniquitous program. the revolution itself was a genuine and sincere effort on the part of the russian people to avert the disaster and shame of a separate peace; to serve the allied cause with all the fidelity of which they were capable. there would have been a separate peace if the old régime had remained in power a few weeks longer and the revolution been averted. it is most likely that it would have been a more shameful peace than was concluded at brest-litovsk, and that it would have resulted in an actual and active alliance of the romanov dynasty with the dynasties of the hohenzollerns and the habsburgs. the russian revolution of had this great merit: it so delayed the separate peace between russia and germany that the allies were able to prepare for it. it had the merit, also, that it forced the attainment of the separate peace to come in such a manner as to reduce germany's military gain on the western front to a minimum. the manner in which the bolsheviki in their wild, groping, and frenzied efforts to apply theoretical abstractions to the living world, torn as it was by the wolves of war, famine, treason, oppression, and despair, served the foes of freedom and progress must not be lost sight of. the bolshevist, wherever he may present himself, is the foe of progress and the ally of reaction. chapter iv the second revolution i when the duma assembled on november , --new style--the approaching doom of czar nicholas ii was already manifest. why the revolution did not occur at that time is a puzzle not easy to solve. perhaps the mere fact that the duma was assembling served to postpone resort to drastic measures. the nation waited for the duma to lead. it is probable, also, that fear lest revolution prove disastrous to the military forces exercised a restraining influence upon the people. certain it is that it would have been easy enough to kindle the fires of revolution at that time. never in the history of the nation, not even in , were conditions riper for revolt, and never had there been a more solid array of the nation against the bureaucracy. discontent and revolutionary temper were not confined to socialists, nor to the lower classes. landowners, capitalists, military officials, and intellectuals were united with the peasants and artisans, to an even greater extent than in the early stages of the first revolution. conservatives and moderates joined with social democrats and socialist-revolutionists in opposition to the corrupt and oppressive régime. even the president of the duma, michael rodzianko, a conservative landowner, assailed the government. one of the principal reasons for this unexampled unity against the government was the wide-spread conviction, based, as we have seen, upon the most damning evidence, that premier sturmer and his cabinet were not loyal to the allies and that they contemplated making a separate peace with germany. all factions in the duma were bitterly opposed to a separate peace. rodzianko was loudly cheered when he denounced the intrigues against the allies and declared: "russia gave her word to fight in common with the allies till complete and final victory is won. russia will not betray her friends, and with contempt refuses any consideration of a separate peace. russia will not be a traitor to those who are fighting side by side with her sons for a great and just cause." notwithstanding the intensification of the class conflict naturally resulting from the great industrial development since , patriotism temporarily overshadowed all class consciousness. the cheers that greeted rodzianko's declaration, and the remarkable ovation to the allied ambassadors, who were present, amply demonstrated that, in spite of the frightful suffering and sacrifice which the nation had endured, all classes were united in their determination to win the war. only a corrupt section of the bureaucracy, at one end of the social scale, and a small section of extreme left-wing socialists, at the other end of the social scale, were at that time anti-war. there was this difference between the socialist pacifists and the bureaucratic advocates of peace with germany: the former were not pro-german nor anti-ally, but sincere internationalists, honest and brave--however mistaken--advocates of peace. outside of the bureaucracy there was no hostility to the allies in russia. except for the insignificant socialist minority referred to, the masses of the russian people realized that the defeat of the hohenzollern dynasty was necessary to a realization of the ideal of a free russia. the new and greater revolution was already beginning, and determination to defeat the hohenzollern bulwark of the romanov despotism was almost universal. the whole nation was pervaded by this spirit. paul miliukov, leader of the constitutional democrats, popularly known as the "cadets," furiously lashed premier sturmer and quoted the irrefutable evidence of his pro-germanism and of his corruption. sturmer reeled under the smashing attack. in his rage he forbade the publication of miliukov's speech, but hundreds of thousands of copies of it were secretly printed and distributed. every one recognized that there was war between the duma and the government, and notwithstanding the criticism of the socialists, who naturally regarded it as a bourgeois body, the duma represented russia. sturmer proposed to his cabinet the dissolution of the duma, but failed to obtain the support of a majority. then he determined to get the czar's signature to a decree of dissolution. but the czar was at the general headquarters of the army at the time and therefore surrounded by army officers, practically all of whom were with the duma and inspired by a bitter resentment of the pro-german intrigues, especially the neglect of the army organization. the weak will of nicholas ii was thus beyond the reach of sturmer's influence for the time being. meanwhile, the ministers of the army and navy had appeared before the duma and declared themselves to be on the side of the people and their parliament. on his way to visit the czar at general headquarters, premier sturmer was met by one of the czar's messengers and handed his dismissal from office. the duma had won. the evil genius which inspired and controlled him led nicholas ii to appoint as sturmer's successor the utterly reactionary bureaucrat, alexander trepov, and to retain in office as minister of the interior the infamous protopopov, associate of the unsavory rasputin. when trepov made his first appearance as premier in the duma he was loudly hissed by the socialists. other factions, while not concealing their disappointment, were more tolerant and even became more hopeful when they realized that from the first trepov was fighting to oust protopopov. that meant, of course, a fight against rasputin as well. whatever trepov's motives might be in fighting protopopov and rasputin he was helping the opposition. but trepov was no match for such opponents. it soon became evident that as premier he was a mere figurehead and that rasputin and protopopov held the government in their hands. protopopov openly defied the premier and the duma. in december it began to be rumored in political circles that sturmer, who was now attached in some not clearly defined capacity to the foreign office, was about to be sent to a neutral country as ambassador. the rumor created the utmost consternation in liberal circles in russia and in the allied embassies. if true, it could only have one meaning, namely, that arrangements were being made to negotiate a separate peace with germany--and that meant that russia was to become germany's economic vassal. the duma demanded a responsible ministry, a cabinet directly responsible to, and controlled by, the duma as the people's representative. this demand had been constantly made since the first revolution. even the imperial council, upon which the czar had always been able to rely for support against revolutionary movements, now joined forces with the duma in making this demand. that traditionally reactionary, bureaucratic body, composed of former premiers, cabinet ministers, and other high officials, formally demanded that the czar take steps to make the government responsible to the popularly elected assemblage. this was a small revolution in itself. the fabric of czarism had cracked. ii there can be no doubt in the mind of any student of russian affairs that the unity of the imperial council and the duma, like the unity of classes, was due to the strong pro-ally sentiment which at that time possessed practically the entire nation. on december th--new style--germany offered russia a separate peace, and three days later the foreign minister, pokrovsky, visited the duma and announced that russia would reject the offer. the duma immediately passed a resolution declaring that "the duma unanimously favors a categorical refusal by the allied governments to enter, under present conditions, into any peace negotiations whatever." on the th a similar resolution was adopted by the imperial council, which continued to follow the leadership of the duma. before adjourning for the christmas holidays the duma passed another resolution, aimed chiefly at protopopov and sturmer, protesting against the sinister activities which were undermining the war-making forces of the nation, and praising the work of the zemstvos and working-class organizations which had struggled bravely to sustain the army, feed the people, care for the sick and wounded, and avert utter chaos. on december th, in the early hours of the morning, the monk rasputin was murdered and his body thrown into the neva. the strangest and most evil of all the actors in the russian drama was dead, but the system which made him what he was lived. rasputin dead exercised upon the diseased mind of the czarina--and, through her, upon the czar--even a greater influence than when he was alive. nicholas ii was as powerless to resist the insane czarina's influence as he had proved himself to be when he banished the grand-duke nicholas for pointing out that the czarina was the tool of evil and crafty intriguers. heedless of the warning implied in the murder of rasputin, and of the ever-growing opposition to the government and the throne, the czar inaugurated, or permitted to be inaugurated, new measures of reaction and repression. trepov was driven from the premiership and replaced by prince golitizin, a bureaucrat of small brain and less conscience. the best minister of education russia had ever had, ignatyev, was replaced by one of the blackest of all reactionaries. the czar celebrated the new-year by issuing an edict retiring the progressive members of the imperial council, who had supported the duma, and appointing in their stead the most reactionary men he could find in the empire. at the head of the council as president he placed the notorious jew-hating stcheglovitov. as always, hatred of the jew sprang from fear of progress. as one reads the history of january, , in russia, as it was reported in the press day by day, and the numerous accounts of competent and trustworthy observers, it is difficult to resist the conclusion that protopopov deliberately sought to precipitate a revolution. mad as this hypothesis seems to be, it is nevertheless the only one which affords a rational explanation of the policy of the government. no sooner was golitizin made premier than it was announced that the opening of the duma would be postponed till the end of january, in order that the cabinet might be reorganized. later it was announced that the duma opening would be again postponed--this time till the end of february. in the reorganization of the cabinet, shuvaviev, the war minister, who had loyally co-operated with the zemstvos and had supported the duma in november, was dismissed. pokrovsky, the foreign minister, who had announced to the duma in december the rejection of the german peace offer, was reported to be "sick" and given "leave of absence." other changes were made in the cabinet, in every case to the advantage of the reactionaries. it was practically impossible for anyone in russia to find out who the ministers of the government were. protopopov released sukhomlinov, the former minister of war who had been justly convicted of treason. this action, taken, it was said, at the direction of the czarina, added to the already wide-spread belief that the government was animated by a desire to make peace with germany. that the czar himself was loyal to the allies was generally believed, but there was no such belief in the loyalty of protopopov, sturmer, and their associates. the nation meantime was drifting into despair and anarchy. the railway system was deliberately permitted to become disorganized. hunger reigned in the cities and the food reserves for the army were deliberately reduced to a two days' supply. the terror of hunger spread through the large cities and through the army at the front like prairie fire. it became evident that protopopov was carrying out the plans of the germanophiles, deliberately trying to disorganize the life of the nation and make successful warfare impossible. socialists and labor leaders charged that his agents were encouraging the pacifist minority and opposing the patriotic majority among the workers. the work of the war industries committee which controlled organizations engaged in the manufacture of war-supplies which employed hundreds of thousands of workers was hampered in every way. it is the testimony of the best-known and most-trusted working-class leaders in russia that the vast majority of the workers, while anxious for a general democratic peace, were opposed to a separate peace with germany and favored the continuation of the war against prussianism and the co-operation of all classes to that end. the pacifists and "defeatist" socialists represented a minority. to the minority every possible assistance was given, while the leaders of the working class who were loyal to the war, and who sought to sustain the morale of the workers in support of the war, were opposed and thwarted in their efforts and, in many cases, cast into prison. the black hundreds were still at work. socialist leaders of the working class issued numerous appeals to the workers, warning them that protopopov's secret police agitators were trying to bring about strikes, and begging them not to lend themselves to such treacherous designs, which could only aid germany at the expense of democracy in russia and elsewhere. it became known, too, that large numbers of machine-guns were being distributed among the police in petrograd and placed at strategic points throughout the city. it was said that protopopov was mad, but it was the methodical madness of a desperate, reactionary, autocratic régime. iii protopopov and sturmer and their associates recognized as clearly as the liberals did the natural kinship and interdependence of the three great autocracies, the romanov, habsburg, and hohenzollern dynasties. they knew well that the crushing of autocracy in austria-hungary and germany would make it impossible to maintain autocracy in russia. they realized, furthermore, that while the nation was not willing to attempt revolution during the war, the end of the war would inevitably bring with it revolution upon a scale far vaster than had ever been attempted before, unless, indeed, the revolutionary leaders could be goaded into making a premature attempt to overthrow the monarchy. in that case, it might be possible to crush them. given a rebellion in the cities, which could be crushed by the police amply provided with machine-guns, and by "loyal" troops, with a vast army unprovided with food and no means of supplying it, there would be abundant justification for making a separate peace with germany. thus the revolution would be crushed and the whole system of autocracy, russian, austrian, and german, preserved. the morning of the th of february--new style--was tense with an ominous expectancy. in the allied chancelleries anxious groups were gathered. they realized that the fate of the allies hung in the balance. in petrograd alone three hundred thousand workers went out on strike that day, and the police agents did their level best to provoke violence. the large bodies of troops massed at various points throughout the city, and the police with their machine-guns, testified to the thoroughness with which the government had prepared to crush any revolutionary manifestations. thanks to the excellent discipline of the workers, and the fine wisdom of the leaders of the social democrats, the socialist-revolutionists, and the labor group, who constantly exhorted the workers not to fall into the trap set for them, there was no violence. at the opening session of the duma, kerensky, leader of the labor group, made a characteristic address in which he denounced the arrest of the labor group members of the war industries committee. he directed his attack against the "system," not against individuals: "we are living in a state of anarchy unprecedented in our history. in comparison with it the period of seems like child's play. chaos has enveloped not only the political, but the economic life of the nation as well. it destroys the very foundations of the nation's social economic structure. "things have come to such a pass that recently one of the ministries, shipping coal from petrograd to a neighboring city, had armed the train with a special guard so that other authorities should not confiscate the coal on the way! we have arrived already at the primitive stage when each person defends with all the resources at his command the material in his possession, ready to enter into mortal combat for it with his neighbor. we are witnessing the same scenes which france went through at the time of the revolution. then also the products shipped to paris were accompanied by special detachments of troops to prevent their being seized by the provincial authorities.... "behold the cabinet of rittich-protopopov-golitizin dragging into the court the labor group of the war industries committee, charged with aiming at the creation of a russian social-democratic republic! they did not even know that nobody aims at a 'social-democratic' republic. one aiming at a republic labors for popular government. but has the court anything to say about all these distinctions? we know beforehand what sentences are to be imposed upon the prisoners.... "i have no desire to criticize the individual members of the cabinet. the greatest mistake of all is to seek traitors, german agents, separate sturmers. _we have a still greater enemy than the german influence, than the treachery and treason of individuals. and that enemy is the system--the system of a medieval form of government_." how far the conspiracy of the government of russia against the war of russia and her allies extended is shown by the revelations made in the duma on march d by one of the members, a. konovalov. he reported that two days previously, march st, the only two members of the labor group of the war industries committee who were not in prison issued an appeal to the workers not to strike. these two members of the labor group of the war industries committee, anosovsky and ostapenko, took their exhortation to the bureau of the war industries committee for its approval. but, although approved by this great and important organization, the appeal was not passed by the government censor. when guchkov, president of the war industries committee, attempted to get the appeal printed in the newspapers he was prevented by action emanating from the office of protopopov. iv through all the early days of march there was labor unrest in petrograd, as well as in some other cities. petrograd was, naturally, the storm center. there were small strikes, but, fortunately, not much rioting. the extreme radicals were agitating for the release of the imprisoned leaders of the labor group and urging drastic action by the workers. much of this agitation was sincere and honest, but no little of it was due to the provocative agents. these, disguised as workmen, seized every opportunity to urge revolt. any pretext sufficed them; they stimulated the honest agitation to revolt as a protest against the imprisonment of the labor group, and the desperate threat that unless food was forthcoming revolution would be resorted to for sinister purposes. and all the time the police and the troops were massed to crush the first rising. the next few days were destined to reveal the fact that the cunning and guile of protopopov had overreached itself; that the soldiers could not be relied upon to crush any uprising of the people. there was some rioting in petrograd on march d, and the next day the city was placed under martial law. on march th the textile workers went out on strike and were quickly followed by several thousand workers belonging to other trades. next day there was a tremendous popular demonstration at which the workers demanded food. the strike spread during the next two or three days until there was a pretty general stoppage of industry. students from the university joined with the striking workmen and there were numerous demonstrations, but little disposition to violence. when the cossacks and mounted police were sent to break up the crowds, the cossacks took great care not to hurt the people, fraternizing with them and being cheered by them. it was evident that the army would not let itself be used to crush the uprising of the people. the police remained "loyal," but they were not adequate in numbers. protopopov had set in motion forces which no human agency could control. the revolution was well under way. the duma remained in constant session. meantime the situation in the capital was becoming serious in the extreme. looting of stores began, and there were many victims of the police efforts to disperse the crowds. in the midst of the crisis the duma repudiated the government and broke off all relations with it. the resolution of the duma declared that "the government which covered its hands with the blood of the people should no longer be admitted to the duma. with such a government the duma breaks all relations forever." the answer of czar nicholas was an order to dissolve the duma, which order the duma voted to ignore, remaining in session as before. on sunday, march th, there was a great outpouring of people at a demonstration. police established on the roofs of some public buildings attacked the closely packed throngs with machine-gun fire, killing and wounding hundreds. one of the famous regiments, the volynski, revolted, killed its commander, and joined the people when ordered to fire into the crowds. detachments of soldiers belonging to other regiments followed their example and refused to fire upon the people. one or two detachments of troops did obey orders and were immediately attacked by the revolutionary troops. there was civil war in petrograd. while the fighting was still going on, the president of the duma sent the following telegram to the czar: the situation is grave. anarchy reigns in the capital. the government is paralyzed. the transport of provisions and fuel is completely disorganized. general dissatisfaction is growing. irregular rifle-firing is occurring in the streets. it is necessary to charge immediately some person enjoying the confidence of the people to form a new government. it is impossible to linger. any delay means death. let us pray to god that the responsibility in this hour will not fall upon a crowned head. rodzianko. the duma waited in vain that night for an answer from the czar. the bourgeois elements in the duma were terrified. only the leaders of the different socialist groups appeared to possess any idea of providing the revolutionary movement with proper direction. while the leaders of the bourgeois groups were proclaiming their conviction that the revolution would be crushed in a few hours by the tens of thousands of troops in petrograd who had not yet rebelled, the socialist leaders were busy preparing plans to carry on the struggle. even those social democrats who for various reasons had most earnestly tried to avert the revolution gave themselves with whole-hearted enthusiasm to the task of organizing the revolutionary forces. following the example set in the revolution, there had been formed a central committee of the working-class organizations to direct the movement. this body, composed of elected representatives of the unions and socialist societies, was later known as the council of workmen's deputies. it was this body which undertook the organization of the revolution. this revolution, unlike that of , was initiated by the bourgeoisie, but its originators manifested little desire and less capacity to lead it. when monday morning came there was no longer an unorganized, planless mass confusedly opposing a carefully organized force, but a compact, well-organized, and skilfully led movement. processions were formed, each under responsible directors with very definite instructions. as on the previous day, the police stationed upon roofs of buildings, and at various strategic points, fired upon the people. as on the previous day, also, the soldiers joined the revolution and refused to shoot the people. the famous guards' regiment, long the pet and pride of the czar, was the first to rebel. the soldiers killed the officer who ordered them to fire, and then with cheers joined the rebels. when the military authorities sent out another regiment to suppress the rebel guards' regiment they saw the new force go over to the revolution in a body. other regiments deserted in the same manner. the flower of the russian army had joined the people in revolting against the czar and the system of czarism. on the side of the revolutionists were now many thousands of well-trained soldiers, fully armed. soon they took possession of the arsenal, after killing the commander. the soldiers made organized and systematic warfare upon the police. every policeman seen was shot down, police stations were set on fire, and prisons were broken open and the prisoners released. the numerous political prisoners were triumphantly liberated and took their places in the revolutionary ranks. in rapid succession the great bastiles fell! peter and paul fortress, scene of infinite martyrdom, fell into the hands of the revolutionary forces, and the prisoners, many of them heroes and martyrs of other uprisings, were set free amid frenzied cheering. the great schlüsselburg fortress was likewise seized and emptied. with twenty-five thousand armed troops on their side, the revolutionists were practically masters of the capital. they attacked the headquarters of the hated secret service and made a vast, significantly symbolical bonfire of its archives. once more rodzianko appealed to the czar. it is no reflection upon rodzianko's honesty, or upon his loyalty to the people, to say that he was appalled by the development of the struggle. he sympathized with the people in their demand for political democracy and would wage war to the end upon czarism, but he feared the effect of the revolution upon the army and the allied cause. moreover, he was a landowner, and he feared socialism. in he had joined forces with the government when the socialists led the masses--and now the socialist leaders were again at the head of the masses. perhaps the result would have been otherwise if the duma had followed up its repudiation of the government by openly and unreservedly placing itself at the head of the uprising. in any other country than russia that would have been done, in all probability, but the russian bourgeoisie was weak. this was due, like so much else in russia, to the backwardness of the industrial system. there was not a strong middle class and, therefore, the bourgeoisie left the fighting to the working class. rodzianko's new appeal to the czar was pathetic. when hundreds of dead and dying lay in the streets and in churches, hospitals, and other public buildings, he could still imagine that the czar could save the situation: "the situation is growing worse. it is necessary to take measures immediately, for to-morrow it will be too late," he telegraphed. "the last hour has struck to decide the fate of the country and of the dynasty." poor, short-sighted bourgeois! it was already "too late" for "measures" by the weak-minded nicholas ii to avail. the "fate of the country and of the dynasty" was already determined! it was just as well that the czar did not make any reply to the message. the new ruler of russia, king demos, was speaking now. workers and soldiers sent deputations to the taurida palace, where the duma was sitting. rodzianko read to them the message he had sent to the czar, but that was small comfort. thousands of revolutionists, civilian and military, stormed the taurida palace and clamored to hear what the socialists in the duma had to say. in response to this demand tchcheidze, kerensky, skobelev, and other socialists from various groups appeared and addressed the people. these men had a message to give; they understood the ferment and were part of it. they were of the revolution--bone of its bone, flesh of its flesh, and so they were cheered again and again. and what a triumvirate they made, these leaders of the people! tchcheidze, once a university professor, keen, cool, and as witty as george bernard shaw, listened to with the deference democracy always pays to intellect. kerensky, lawyer by profession, matchless as an orator, obviously the prophet and inspirer rather than the executive type; skobelev, blunt, direct, and practical, a man little given to romantic illusions. it was skobelev who made the announcement to the crowd outside the taurida palace that the old system was ended forever and that the duma would create a provisional committee. he begged the workers and the soldiers to keep order, to refrain from violence against individuals, and to observe strict discipline. "freedom demands discipline and order," he said. that afternoon the duma selected a temporary committee to restore order. the committee, called the duma committee of safety, consisted of twelve members, representing all the parties and groups in the duma. the hastily formed committee of the workers met and decided to call on the workmen to hold immediate elections for the council of workmen's deputies--the first meeting of which was to be held that evening. that this was a perilous thing to do the history of the first revolution clearly showed, but no other course seemed open to the workers, in view of the attitude of the bourgeoisie. on behalf of the duma committee, rodzianko issued the following proclamation: the provisional committee of the members of the imperial duma, aware of the grave conditions of internal disorder created by the measure of the old government, has found itself compelled to take into its hands the re-establishment of political and civil order. in full consciousness of the responsibility of its decision, the provisional committee expresses its trust that the population and the army will help it in the difficult task of creating a new government which will comply with the wishes of the population, and be able to enjoy its confidence. michail rodzianko, _speaker of the imperial duma_. february , .[ ] that night the first formal session of the council of workmen's deputies was held. tchcheidze was elected president, kerensky vice-president. the deputies had been elected by the working-men of many factories and by the members of socialist organizations. it was not until the following day that soldiers' representatives were added and the words "and soldiers" added to the title of the council. at this first meeting the council--a most moderate and capable body--called for a constituent assembly on the basis of equal, direct, and secret universal suffrage. this demand was contained in an address to the people which read, in part: to finish the struggle successfully in the interests of democracy, the people must create their own powerful organization. the council of the workmen's deputies, holding its session in the imperial duma, makes it its supreme task to organize the people's forces and their struggle for a final securing of political freedom and popular government in russia. we appeal to the entire population of the capital to rally around the council, to form local committees in the various boroughs, and to take over the management of local affairs. all together, with united forces, we will struggle for a final abolition of the old system and the calling of a constituent assembly on the basis of universal, equal, direct, and secret suffrage. this document is of the highest historical importance and merits close study. as already noted, tchcheidze, leader of the mensheviki, was president of the council, and this appeal to the people shows how fully the moderate views of his group prevailed. indeed, the manner in which the moderate counsels of the mensheviki dominated the council at a time of great excitement and passion, when extremists might have been expected to obtain the lead, is one of the most remarkable features of the whole story of the second russian revolution. it appeared at this time that the russian proletariat had fully learned the tragic lessons of - . it is evident from the text of the appeal that at the time the council looked upon the revolution as being primarily a political event, not as a movement to reconstruct the economic and social system. there is no reference to social democracy. even the land question is not referred to. how limited their purpose was at the moment may be gathered from the statement, "the council ... makes it its supreme task to organize the people's forces and their struggle for a final securing of political freedom and popular government." it is also clearly evident that, notwithstanding the fact that the council itself was a working-class organization, a manifestation of the class consciousness of the workers, the leaders of the council did not regard the revolution as a proletarian event, nor doubt the necessity of co-operation on the part of all classes. proletarian exclusiveness came later, but on march th the appeal of the council was "to the entire population." march th saw the arrest of many of the leading reactionaries, including protopopov and the traitor sukhomlinov, and an approach to order. all that day the representatives of the duma and the representatives of the council of workmen's and soldiers' deputies, as it was now called, embryo of the first soviet government, tried to reach an agreement concerning the future organization of russia. the representatives of the duma were pitifully lacking in comprehension of the situation. they wanted the czar deposed, but the monarchy itself retained, subject to constitutional limitations analogous to those obtaining in england. they wanted the romanov dynasty retained, their choice being the czar's brother, grand-duke michael. the representatives of the soviet, on the other hand, would not tolerate the suggestion that the monarchy be continued. standing, as yet, only for political democracy, they insisted that the monarchy must be abolished and that the new government be republican in form. the statesmanship and political skill of these representatives of the workers were immeasurably superior to those possessed by the bourgeois representatives of the duma. v thursday, march , --new style--was one of the most fateful and momentous days in the history of mankind. it will always be remembered as the day on which czarism ceased to exist in russia. at three o'clock in the afternoon miliukov, leader of the constitutional democrats, appeared in front of the taurida palace and announced to the waiting throngs that an agreement had been reached between the duma and the council of workmen's and soldiers' deputies; that it had been decided to depose the czar, to constitute immediately a provisional government composed of representatives of all parties and groups, and to proceed with arrangements for the holding of a constituent assembly at an early date to determine the form of a permanent democratic government for russia. at the head of the provisional government, as premier, had been placed prince george e. lvov, who as president of the union of zemstvos had proved himself to be a democrat of the most liberal school as well as an extraordinarily capable organizer. the position of minister of foreign affairs was given to miliukov, whose strong sympathy with the allies was well known. the position of minister of justice was given to alexander kerensky, one of the most extraordinary men in russia, a leader of the group of toil, a party of peasant socialists, vice-president of the council of workmen's and soldiers' deputies. at the head of the war department was placed alexander guchkov, a soldier-politician, leader of the octobrist party, who had turned against the first revolution in , when it became an economic war of the classes, evoking thereby the hatred of the socialists, but who as head of the war industries committee had achieved truly wonderful results in the present war in face of the opposition of the government. the pressing food problem was placed in the hands of andrei shingarev. as minister of agriculture shingarev belonged to the radical left wing of the cadets. it cannot be said that the composition of the provisional government was received with popular satisfaction. it was top-heavy with representatives of the bourgeoisie. there was only one socialist, kerensky. miliukov's selection, inevitable though it was, and great as his gifts were, was condemned by the radical working-men because he was regarded as a dangerous "imperialist" on account of his advocacy of the annexation of constantinople. guchkov's inclusion was equally unpopular on account of his record at the time of the first revolution. the most popular selection was undoubtedly kerensky, because he represented more nearly than any of the others the aspirations of the masses. as a whole, it was the fact that the provisional government was too fully representative of the bourgeois parties and groups which gave the bolsheviki and other radicals a chance to condemn it. the absence of the name of tchcheidze from the list was a surprise and a disappointment to most of the moderate socialists, for he had come to be regarded as one of the most capable and trustworthy leaders of the masses. the fact that he was not included in the new government could hardly fail to cause uneasy suspicion. it was said later that efforts had been made to induce him to join the new government, but that he declined to do so. tchcheidze's position was a very difficult one. thoroughly in sympathy with the plan to form a coalition provisional government, and supporting kerensky in his position, tchcheidze nevertheless declined to enter the new cabinet himself. in this he was quite honest and not at all the tricky politician he has been represented as being. tchcheidze knew that the duma had been elected upon a most undemocratic suffrage and that it did not and could not represent the masses of the peasants and wage-workers. these classes were represented in the council of workmen's and soldiers' deputies, which continued to exist as a separate body, independent of the duma, but co-operating with it as an equal. from a socialist point of view it would have been a mistake to disband the council, tchcheidze believed. he saw soviet government as the need of the critical moment, rather than as the permanent, distinctive type of russian social democracy as the critics of kerensky have alleged. while the provisional government was being created, the czar, at general headquarters, was being forced to recognize the bitter fact that the romanov dynasty could no longer live. when he could no more resist the pressure brought to bear upon him by the representatives of the duma, he wrote and signed a formal instrument of abdication of the russian throne, naming his brother, grand-duke michael, as his successor. the latter dared not attempt to assume the imperial rôle. he recognized that the end of autocracy had been reached and declined to accept the throne unless chosen by a popular referendum vote. on march th, the day after the abdication of nicholas ii, michael issued a statement in which he said: this heavy responsibility has come to me at the voluntary request of my brother, who has transferred the imperial throne to me during a time of warfare which is accompanied by unprecedented popular disturbances. moved by the thought, which is in the minds of the entire people, that the good of the country is paramount, i have adopted the firm resolution to accept the supreme power only if this be the will of our great people, who, by a plebiscite organized by their representatives in a constituent assembly, shall establish a form of government and new fundamental laws for the russian state. consequently, invoking the benediction of our lord, i urge all citizens of russia to submit to the provisional government, established upon the initiative of the duma and invested with full plenary powers, until such time which will follow with as little delay as possible, as the constituent assembly, on a basis of universal, direct, equal, and secret suffrage, shall, by its decision as to the new form of government, express the will of the people. the hated romanov dynasty was ended at last. it is not likely that grand-duke michael entertained the faintest hope that he would ever be called to the throne, either by a constituent assembly or by a popular referendum. not only was the romanov dynasty ended, but equally so was monarchical absolutism itself. no other dynasty would replace that of the romanovs. russia had thrown off the yoke of autocracy. the second revolution was an accomplished fact; its first phase was complete. thoughtful men among the revolutionists recognized that the next phase would be far more perilous and difficult. "the bigger task is still before us," said miliukov, in his address to the crowd that afternoon. a constituent assembly was to be held and that was bound to intensify the differences which had been temporarily composed during the struggle to overthrow the system of absolutism. and the differences which existed between the capitalist class and the working class were not greater than those which existed within the latter. chapter v from bourgeoisie to bolsheviki i it required no great gift of prophecy to foretell the failure of the provisional government established by the revolutionary coalition headed by prince lvov. from the very first day it was evident that the cabinet could never satisfy the russian people. it was an anomaly in that the revolution had been a popular revolution, while the provisional government was overwhelmingly representative of the landowners, manufacturers, bankers, and merchants--the despised and distrusted bourgeoisie. the very meager representation given to the working class, through kerensky, was, in the circumstances, remarkable for its stupid effrontery and its disregard of the most obvious realities. much has been said and written of the doctrinaire attitude which has characterized the bolsheviki in the later phases of the struggle, but if by doctrinairism is meant subservience to preconceived theories and disregard of realities, it must be said that the statesmen of the bourgeoisie were as completely its victims as the bolsheviki later proved to be. they were subservient to dogma and indifferent to fact. the bourgeois leaders of russia--and those socialists who co-operated with them--attempted to ignore the biggest and most vital fact in the whole situation, namely, the fact that the revolution was essentially a socialist revolution in the sense that the overwhelming mass of the people were bent upon the realization of a very comprehensive, though somewhat crudely conceived, program of socialization. it was not a mere political revolution, and political changes which left the essential social structure unchanged, which did not tend to bring about equality of democratic opportunity, and which left the control of the nation in the hands of landowners and capitalists, could never satisfy the masses nor fail to invite their savage attack. only the most hopeless and futile of doctrinaires could have argued themselves into believing anything else. it was quite idle to argue from the experience of other countries that russia must follow the universal rule and establish and maintain bourgeois rule for a period more or less prolonged. true, that had been the experience of most nations, but it was foolish in the extreme to suppose that it must be the experience of russia, whose conditions were so utterly unlike those which had obtained in any nation which had by revolution established constitutional government upon a democratic basis. to begin with, in every other country revolution by the bourgeoisie itself had been the main factor in the overthrow of autocracy. feudalism and monarchical autocracy fell in western europe before the might of a powerful rising class. that this class in every case drew to its side the masses and benefited by their co-operation must not be allowed to obscure the fact that in these other countries of all the classes in society the bourgeoisie was the most powerful. it was that fact which established its right to rule in place of the deposed rulers. the russian middle class, however, lacked that historic right to rule. in consequence of the backwardness of the nation from the point of view of industrial development, the bourgeoisie was correspondingly backward and weak. never in any country had a class so weak and uninfluential essayed the rôle of the ruling class. to believe that a class which at the most did not exceed six per cent. of the population could assert and maintain its rule over a nation of one hundred and eighty millions of people, when these had been stirred by years of revolutionary agitation, was at once pedantic and absurd. the industrial proletariat was as backward and as relatively weak as the bourgeoisie. except by armed force and tyranny of the worst kind, this class could not rule russia. its fitness and right to rule are not appreciably greater than the fitness and right of the bourgeoisie. it cannot even be said on its behalf that it had waged the revolutionary struggle of the working class, for in truth its share in the russian revolutionary movement had been relatively small, far less than that of the peasant organizations. with more than one hundred and thirty-five millions of peasants, from whose discontent and struggle the revolutionary movement had drawn its main strength, neither the bourgeoisie nor the class-conscious section of the industrial proletariat could set up its rule without angry protest and attacks which, soon or late, must overturn it. every essential fact in the russian situation, which was so unique, pointed to the need for a genuine and sincere co-operation by the intelligent leaders of all the opposition elements until stability was attained, together with freedom from the abnormal difficulties due to the war. in any event, the domination of the provisional government by a class so weak and so narrow in its outlook and aims was a disaster. as soon as time for reflection had been afforded the masses discontent and distrust were inevitable. ii from the first days there were ominous murmurings. yet it must be confessed that the provisional government manifested much greater enlightenment than might have been expected of it and hastened to enact a program--quite remarkable for its liberality and vision; a program which, had it come from a government more truly representative in its personnel of revolutionary russia, might, with one important addition, have served as the foundation of an enduring structure. on march th the provisional government issued a statement of its program and an appeal to the citizens for support. this document, which is said to have been the joint work of p.i. novgorodtzev, n.v. nekrasov, and p.n. miliukov, read as follows: citizens: the executive committee of the duma, with the aid and support of the garrison of the capital and its inhabitants, has succeeded in triumphing over the obnoxious forces of the old régime so that we can proceed to a more stable organization of the executive power, with men whose past political activity assures them the country's confidence. the new cabinet will base its policy upon the following principles: _first_.--an immediate and general amnesty for all political and religious offenses, including terrorist acts and military and agrarian offenses. _second_.--liberty of speech and of the press; freedom for alliances, unions, and strikes, with the extension of these liberties to military officials, within the limits admitted by military requirements. _third_.--abolition of all social, religious, and national restrictions. _fourth_.--to proceed forthwith to the preparation and convocation of a constituent assembly, based on universal suffrage. this assembly will establish a stable universal régime. _fifth_.--the substitution of the police by a national militia, with chiefs to be elected and responsible to the municipalities. _sixth_.--communal elections to be based on universal, direct, equal, and secret suffrage. _seventh_.--the troops which participated in the revolutionary movement will not be disarmed, but will remain in petrograd. _eighth_.--while maintaining strict military discipline for troops in active service, it is desirable to abrogate for soldiers all restrictions in the enjoyment of civil rights accorded other citizens. the provisional government desires to add that it has no intention of taking advantage of war conditions to delay the realization of the measures of reform above mentioned. this address is worthy of especial attention. the generous liberalism of the program it outlines cannot be denied, but it is political liberalism only. it is not directly and definitely concerned with the great fundamental economic issues which so profoundly affect the life and well-being of the working class, peasants, and factory-workers alike. it is the program of men who saw in the revolution only a great epochal political advance. in this it reflects its bourgeois origin. with the exception of the right to organize unions and strikes--which is a political measure--not one of the important economic demands peculiar to the working class is met in the program. the land question, which was the economic basis of the revolution, and without which there could have been no revolution, was not even mentioned. and the manifesto which the provisional government addressed to the nation on march th was equally silent with regard to the land question and the socialization of industry. evidently the provisional government desired to confine itself as closely as possible to political democracy, and to leave fundamental economic reform to be attended to by the constituent assembly. if that were its purpose, it would have helped matters to have had the purpose clearly stated and not merely left to inference. but whatever the shortcomings of its first official statements, the actual program of the provisional government during the first weeks was far more satisfactory and afforded room for great hope. on march st the constitution of finland was restored. on the following day amnesty was granted to all political and religious offenders. within a few days freedom and self-government were granted to poland, subject to the ratification of the constituent assembly. at the same time all laws discriminating against the jews were repealed by the following decree: all existing legal restrictions upon the rights of russian citizens, based upon faith, religious teaching, or nationality, are revoked. in accordance with this, we hereby repeal all laws existing in russia as a whole, as well as for separate localities, concerning: . selection of place of residence and change of residence. . acquiring rights of ownership and other material rights in all kinds of movable property and real estate, and likewise in the possession of, the use and managing of all property, or receiving such for security. . engaging in all kinds of trades, commerce, and industry, not excepting mining; also equal participation in the bidding for government contracts, deliveries, and in public auctions. . participation in joint-stock and other commercial or industrial companies and partnerships, and also employment in these companies and partnerships in all kinds of positions, either by elections or by employment. . employment of servants, salesmen, foremen, laborers, and trade apprentices. . entering the government service, civil as well as military, and the grade or condition of such service; participation in the elections for the institutions for local self-government, and all kinds of public institutions; serving in all kinds of positions of government and public establishments, as well as the prosecution of the duties connected with such positions. . admission to all kinds of educational institutions, whether private, government, or public, and the pursuing of the courses of instruction of these institutions, and receiving scholarships. also the pursuance of teaching and other educational professions. . performing the duties of guardians, trustees, or jurors. . the use of language and dialects, other than russian, in the proceedings of private societies, or in teaching in all kinds of private educational institutions, and in commercial bookkeeping. thus all the humiliating restrictions which had been imposed upon the jewish people were swept away. had the provisional government done nothing else than this, it would have justified itself at the bar of history. but it accomplished much more than this: before it had been in office a month, in addition to its liberation of finns, poles, and jews, the provisional government abolished the death penalty; removed all the provincial governors and substituted for them the elected heads of the provincial county councils; _confiscated the large land holdings of the imperial family and of the monasteries_; levied an excess war-profits tax on all war industries; and fixed the price of food at rates greatly lower than had prevailed before. the provisional government had gone farther, and, while declaring that these matters must be left to the constituent assembly for settlement, had declared itself in favor of woman suffrage and of _the distribution of all land among the peasants, the terms and conditions of expropriation and distribution to be determined by the constituent assembly_. the provisional government also established a war cabinet which introduced various reforms into the army. all the old oppressive regulations were repealed and an attempt made to democratize the military system. some of these reforms were of the utmost value; others were rather dangerous experiments. much criticism has been leveled against the rules providing for the election of officers by the men in the ranks, for a conciliation board to act in disputes between men and officers over questions of discipline, and the abolition of the regulations requiring private soldiers to address officers by the title "sir." it must be borne in mind, however, in discussing these things, that these rules represented a great, honest effort to restore the morale of an army that had been demoralized, and to infuse it with democratic faith and zeal in order that it might "carry on." it is not just to judge the rules without considering the conditions which called them forth. certainly the provisional government--which the government of the united states formally recognized on march d, being followed in this by the other allied governments next day--could not be accused fairly of being either slothful or unfaithful. its accomplishments during those first weeks were most remarkable. nevertheless, as the days went by it became evident that it could not hope to satisfy the masses and that, therefore, it could not last very long. iii the council of workmen's and soldiers' delegates was pursuing its independent existence, under the leadership of tchcheidze, skobelev, tseretelli, and other moderate social democrats. as yet the bolsheviki were a very small and uninfluential faction, lacking capable leadership. there can be very little doubt that the council represented the feelings of the great mass of the organized wage-earners far more satisfactorily than the provisional government did, or that it was trusted to a far greater degree, alike by the wage-earners of the cities and the peasants. a great psychological fact existed, a fact which the provisional government and the governments of the allied nations might well have reckoned with: the russian working-people, artisans and peasants alike, were aggressively class conscious and could trust fully only the leaders of their own class. the majority of the social democratic party was, at the beginning, so far from anything like bolshevism, so thoroughly constructive and opportunistic in its policies, that its official organ, _pravda_--not yet captured by the bolsheviki--put forward a program which might easily have been made the basis for an effective coalition. it was in some respects disappointingly moderate: like the program of the provisional government, it left the land question untouched, except in so far as the clause demanding the confiscation of the property of the royal family and the church bore upon it. the social democratic party, reflecting the interests of the city proletariat, had never been enthusiastic about the peasants' claim for distribution of the land, and there had been much controversy between its leaders and the leaders of the socialist-revolutionary party, the party of the peasants. the program as printed in pravda read: . a biennial one-house parliament. . wide extension of the principle of self-government. . inviolability of person and dwelling. . unlimited freedom of the press, of speech, and of assembly. . freedom of movement in business. . equal rights for all irrespective of sex, religion, and nationality. . abolition of class distinction. . education in native language; native languages everywhere to have equal rights with official language. . every nationality in the state to have the right of self-definition. . the right of all persons to prosecute officials before a jury. . election of magistrates. . a citizen army instead of ordinary troops. . separation of church from state and school from church. . free compulsory education for both sexes to the age of sixteen. . state feeding of poor children. . confiscation of church property, also that of the royal family. . progressive income tax. . an eight-hour day, with six hours for all under eighteen. . prohibition of female labor where such is harmful to women. . a clear holiday once a week to consist of forty-two hours on end. it would be a mistake to suppose that this very moderate program embraced all that the majority of the social democratic party aimed at. it was not intended to be more than an ameliorative program for immediate adoption by the constituent assembly, for the convocation of which the social democrats were most eager, and which they confidently believed would have a majority of socialists of different factions. in a brilliant and caustic criticism of conditions as they existed in the pre-bolshevist period, trotzky denounced what he called "the farce of dual authority." in a characteristically clever and biting phrase, he described it as "the epoch of dual impotence, the government not able, and the soviet not daring," and predicted its culmination in a "crisis of unheard-of severity."[ ] there was more than a little truth in the scornful phrase. on the one hand, there was the provisional government, to which the soviet had given its consent and its allegiance, trying to discharge the functions of government. on the other hand, there was the soviet itself, claiming the right to control the course of the provisional government and indulging in systematic criticism of the latter's actions. it was inevitable that the soviet should have been driven irresistibly to the point where it must either renounce its own existence or oppose the provisional government. the dominating spirit and thought of the soviet was that of international social democracy. while most of the delegates believed that it was necessary to prosecute the war and to defeat the aggressions of the central empires, they were still socialists, internationalists, fundamental democrats, and anti-imperialists. not without good and sufficient reason, they mistrusted the bourgeois statesmen and believed that some of the most influential among them were imperialists, actuated by a desire for territorial expansion, especially the annexation of constantinople, and that they were committed to various secret treaties entered into by the old régime with england, france, and italy. in the meetings of the soviet, and in other assemblages of workers, the ugly suspicion grew that the war was not simply a war for national defense, for which there was democratic sanction and justification, but a war of imperialism, and that the provisional government was pursuing the old ways of secret diplomacy. strength was given to this feeling when miliukov, the foreign minister, in an interview championed the annexation of constantinople as a necessary safeguard for the outlet to the mediterranean which russian economic development needed. immediately there was an outcry of protest from the soviet, in which, it should be observed, the bolsheviki were already gaining strength and confidence, thanks to the leadership of kamenev, lenine's colleague, who had returned from siberian exile. it was not only the bolsheviki, however, who protested against imperialistic tendencies. practically the whole body of socialists, mensheviki and bolsheviki alike, agreed in opposing imperialism and secret diplomacy. socialists loyal to the national defense and socialists who repudiated that policy and deemed it treason to the cause of socialism were united in this one thing. the storm of protest which miliukov's interview provoked was stilled temporarily when the premier, lvov, announced that the foreign minister's views concerning the annexation of constantinople were purely personal and did not represent the policy of the provisional government. assurances were given that the provisional government was in accord with the policy of the soviet. on april th a national congress of the councils of workmen's and soldiers' delegates adopted a series of resolutions in which there was a distinct menace to the provisional government. an earlier proclamation by the petrograd soviet had taken the form of a letter addressed to "proletarians and working-people of all countries," but being in fact an appeal to the german working class to rise and refuse to fight against democratic and free russia.[ ] it declared that the peoples must take the matter of deciding questions of war and peace into their own hands. the new declaration was addressed to the russian people: _first_.--the provisional government, which constituted itself during the revolution, in agreement with the council of workmen's and soldiers' delegates of petrograd, published a proclamation announcing its program. this congress records that this program contains in principle political demands for russian democracy, and _recognizes that so far the provisional government has faithfully carried out its promises_. _second_.--this congress appeals to the whole revolutionary democracy of russia to rally to the support of the council of workmen's and soldiers' delegates, which is the center of the organized democratic forces that are capable, in unison with other progressive forces, of counteracting any counter revolutionary attempt and of consolidating the conquests of the revolution. _third_.--the congress recognizes the necessity of permanent political control, the necessity of exercising an influence over the provisional government which will keep it up to a more energetic struggle against anti-revolutionary forces, and the necessity of exercising an influence which will insure its democratizing the whole russian life and paving the way for a common _peace without annexations or contributions_, but on a basis of free national development of all peoples. _fourth_.--the congress appeals to the democracy, while declining responsibility for any of its acts, to support the provisional government as long as it continues to consolidate and develop the conquest of the revolution, _and as long as the basis of its foreign policy does not rest upon aspirations for territorial expansion_. _fifth_.--the congress calls upon the revolutionary democracy of russia, rallying around the council of workmen's and soldiers' delegates, to be ready to _vigorously suppress any attempt by the government to elude the control of democracy or to renounce the carrying out of its pledges_.[ ] on april th, acting under pressure from the soviet, the provisional government published a manifesto to the russian people in which it announced a foreign policy which conformed to that which the congress of councils of workmen's and soldiers' delegates had adopted. on may st miliukov, the foreign minister, transmitted this manifesto to the allied governments as a preliminary to an invitation to those governments to restate their war aims. accompanying the manifesto was a note of explanation, which was interpreted by a great many of the socialists as an intimation to the allies that the manifesto was intended merely for home consumption, and that the provisional government would be glad to have the allies disregard it. it is difficult for any one outside of russia, whose sympathies were with the entente allies, to gather such an impression from the text of the note, which simply set forth that enemy attempts to spread the belief that russia was about to make a separate peace with germany made it necessary for the provisional government to state its "entire agreement" with the aims of the allies as set forth by their statesmen, including president wilson, and to affirm that "the provisional government, in safeguarding the right acquired for our country, will maintain a strict regard for its agreement with the allies of russia." although it was explained that the note had been sent with the knowledge and approval of the provisional government, the storm of fury it produced was directed against miliukov and, in less degree, guchkov. tremendous demonstrations of protest against "imperialism" were held. in the soviet a vigorous demand for the overthrow of the provisional government was made by the steadily growing bolshevik faction and by many anti-bolsheviki socialists. to avert the disaster of a vote of the soviet against it, the provisional government made the following explanation of the so-called miliukov note: the note was subjected to long and detailed examination by the provisional government, and was unanimously approved. this note, in speaking of a "decisive victory," had in view a solution of the problems mentioned in the communication of april th, and which was thus specified: "the government deems it to be its right and duty to declare now that free russia does not aim at the domination of other nations, or at depriving them of their national patrimony, or at occupying by force foreign territories, but that its object is to establish a durable peace on the basis of the rights of nations to decide their own destiny. "the russian nation does not lust after the strengthening of its power abroad at the expense of other nations. its aim is not to subjugate or humiliate any one. in the name of the higher principles of equity, the russian people have broken the chains which fettered the polish nation, but it will not suffer that its own country shall emerge from the great struggle humiliated or weakened in its vital forces. "in referring to the 'penalties and guarantees' essential to a durable peace, the provisional government had in view the reduction of armaments, the establishment of international tribunals, etc. "this explanation will be communicated by the minister of foreign affairs to the ambassadors of the allied powers." this assurance satisfied a majority of the delegates to the soviet meeting held on the evening of may th, and a resolution of confidence in the provisional government was carried, after a very stormy debate. the majority, however, was a very small one, thirty-five in a total vote of about twenty-five hundred. it was clearly evident that the political government and the soviet, which was increasingly inclined to assume the functions of government, were nearing a serious breach. with each day the council of workmen's and soldiers' delegates, as the organized expression of the great mass of wage-workers in petrograd, grew in power over the provisional government and its influence throughout the whole of russia. on may th guchkov resigned, and three days later miliukov followed his example. the party of the constitutional democrats had come to be identified in the minds of the revolutionary proletariat with imperialism and secret diplomacy, and was utterly discredited. the crisis developed an intensification of the distrust of the bourgeoisie by the proletariat. iv the crisis was not due solely to the diplomacy of the provisional government. indeed, that was a minor cause. behind all the discussions and disputes over miliukov's conduct of the affairs of the foreign office there was the far more serious issue created by the agitation of the bolsheviki. under the leadership of kamenev, lenine, and others less well known, who skillfully exploited the friction with the provisional government, the idea of overthrowing that bourgeois body and of asserting that the councils of workmen's and soldiers' delegates would rule russia in the interests of the working class made steady if not rapid progress. late in april lenine and several other active bolshevik leaders returned to petrograd from switzerland, together with martov and other menshevik leaders, who, while differing from the bolsheviki upon practically all other matters, agreed with them in their bitter and uncompromising opposition to the war and in demanding an immediate peace.[ ] as is well known, they were granted special facilities by the german government in order that they might reach russia safely. certain swiss socialist leaders, regarded as strongly pro-german, arranged with the german government that the russian revolutionists should be permitted to travel across germany by rail, in closed carriages. unusual courtesies were extended to the travelers by the german authorities, and it was quite natural that lenine and his associates should have been suspected of being sympathizers with, if not the paid agents and tools of, the german government. the manner in which their actions, when they arrived in russia, served the ends sought by the german military authorities naturally strengthened the suspicion so that it became a strong conviction. suspicious as the circumstances undoubtedly were, there is a very simple explanation of the conduct of lenine and his companions. it is not at all necessary to conclude that they were german agents. let us look at the facts with full candor: lenine had long openly advocated the view that the defeat of russia, even by germany, would be good for the russian revolutionary movement. but that was in the days before the overthrow of the czar. since that time his position had naturally shifted somewhat; he had opposed the continuation of the war and urged the russian workers to withhold support from it. he had influenced the soviets to demand a restatement of war aims by the allies, and to incessantly agitate for immediate negotiations looking toward a general and democratic peace. of course, the preaching of such a policy in russia at that time by a leader so powerful and influential as lenine, bound as it was to divide russia and sow dissension among the allies, fitted admirably into the german plans. that germany would have been glad to pay for the performance of service so valuable can hardly be doubted. on his side, lenine is far too astute a thinker to have failed to understand that the german government had its own selfish interests in view when it arranged for his passage across germany. but the fact that the allies would suffer, and that the central empires would gain some advantage, was of no consequence to him. that was an unavoidable accident and was purely incidental. his own purpose, to lead the revolutionary movement into a new phase, in which he believed with fanatical thoroughness, was the only thing that mattered in the least. if the conditions had been reversed, and he could only have reached russia by the co-operation of the allies, whose cause would be served, however unintentionally, by his work, he would have felt exactly the same. on the other hand, it was of the essence of his faith that his policy would lead to the overthrow of all capitalist-imperialist governments, those of germany and her allies no less than those ranged on the other side. germany might reason that a revolutionary uprising led by lenine would rid her of one of her enemies and enable her to hurl larger forces against the foe on the western front. at that reasoning lenine would smile in derision, thoroughly believing that any uprising he might bring about in russia would sweep westward and destroy the whole fabric of austro-german capitalist-imperialism. lenine knew that he was being used by germany, but he believed that he, in turn, was using germany. he was supremely confident that he could outplay the german statesmen and military leaders. it was a dangerous game that lenine was playing, and he knew it, but the stakes were high and worth the great risk involved. it was not necessary for germany to buy the service he could render to her; that service would be an unavoidable accompaniment of his mission. he argued that his work could, at the worst, give only temporary advantage to germany. so far as there is any evidence to show, lenine has been personally incorruptible. holding lightly what he scornfully derides as "bourgeois morality," unmoral rather than immoral, willing to use any and all means to achieve ends which he sincerely believes to be the very highest and noblest that ever inspired mankind, he would, doubtless, take german money if he saw that it would help him to achieve his purposes. he would do so, however, without any thought of self-aggrandizement. it is probably safe and just to believe that if lenine ever took money from the germans, either at that time or subsequently, he did so in this spirit, believing that the net result of his efforts would be equally disastrous to all the capitalist governments concerned in the war. it must be remembered, moreover, that the distinctions drawn by most thoughtful men between autocratic governments like those which ruled germany and austria and the more democratic governments of france, england, and america, have very little meaning or value to men like lenine. they regard the political form as relatively unimportant; what matters is the fundamental economic class interest represented by the governments. capitalist governments are all equally undesirable. what lenine's program was when he left switzerland is easily learned. a few days before he left switzerland he delivered a lecture on "the russian revolution," in which he made a careful statement of his position. it gives a very good idea of lenine's mental processes. it shows him as a marxist of the most dogmatic type--the type which caused marx himself to rejoice that he was not a "marxist": as to the revolutionary organization and its task, the conquest of the power of the state and militarism: from the praxis of the french commune of , marx shows that "the working class cannot simply take over the governmental machinery as built by the bourgeoisie, and use this machinery for its own purposes." the proletariat must break down this machinery. and this has been either concealed or denied by the opportunists.[ ] but it is the most valuable lesson of the paris commune of and the revolution in russia in . the difference between us and the anarchists is, that we admit the state is a necessity in the development of our revolution. the difference with the opportunists and the kautsky[ ] disciples is that we claim that we do not need the bourgeois state machinery as completed in the "democratic" bourgeois republics, but _the direct power of armed and organized workers_. such was the character of the commune of and of the council of workmen and soldiers of and . on this basis we build.[ ] lenine went on to outline his program of action, which was to begin a new phase of the revolution; to carry the revolt against czarism onward against the bourgeoisie. notwithstanding his scorn for democracy, he declared at that time that his policy included the establishment of a "democratic republic," confiscation of the landed estates of the nobility in favor of the peasants, and the opening up of immediate peace negotiations. but the latter he would take out of the hands of the government entirely. "peace negotiations should not be carried on by and with bourgeois governments, but with the proletariat in each of the warring countries." in his criticism of kerensky and tchcheidze the bolshevik leader was especially scornful and bitter. in a letter which he addressed to the socialists of switzerland immediately after his departure for russia, lenine gave a careful statement of his own position and that of his friends. it shows an opportunistic attitude of mind which differs from the opportunistic attitude of the moderate socialists _in direction only_, not in the _quality of being opportunistic_: historic conditions have made the russians, _perhaps for a short period_, the leaders of the revolutionary world proletariat, _but socialism cannot now prevail in russia_. we can expect only an agrarian revolution, which will help to create more favorable conditions for further development of the proletarian forces and _may result in measures for the control of production and distribution_. the main results of the present revolution will have to be _the creation of more favorable conditions for further revolutionary development_, and to influence the more highly developed european countries into action.[ ] the bolsheviki at this period had as their program the following: ( ) the soviets of workers, soldiers, and peasants to constitute themselves into the actual revolutionary government and establish the dictatorship of the proletariat; ( ) immediate confiscation of landed estates without compensation, the seizure to be done by the peasants themselves, without waiting for legal forms or processes, the peasants to organize into soviets; ( ) measures for the control of production and distribution by the revolutionary government, nationalization of monopolies, repudiation of the national debt; ( ) the workers to take possession of factories and operate them in co-operation with the technical staffs; ( ) refusal by the soviets to recognize any treaties made by the governments either of the czar or the bourgeoisie, and the immediate publication of all such treaties; ( ) the workers to propose at once and publicly an immediate truce and negotiations of peace, these to be carried on by the proletariat and not by and with the bourgeoisie; ( ) bourgeois war debts to be paid exclusively by the capitalists. according to litvinov, who is certainly not an unfriendly authority, as soon as lenine arrived in russia he submitted a new program to his party which was so novel, and so far a departure from accepted socialist principles, that "lenine's own closest friends shrank from it and refused to accept it."[ ] this program involved the abandonment of the plans made for holding the constituent assembly, or, at any rate, such a radical change as to amount to the abandonment of the accepted plans. _he proposed that universal, equal, direct, and secret suffrage be frankly abandoned, and that only the industrial proletariat and the poorest section of the peasantry be permitted to vote at all!_ against the traditional socialist view that class distinctions must be wiped out and the class war ended by the victorious proletariat, lenine proposed to make the class division more rigid and enduring. he proposed to give the sole control of russia into the hands of not more than two hundred thousand workers in a land of one hundred and eighty millions of people, more than one hundred and thirty-five millions of whom were peasants! of course, there could be no reconciliation between such views as these and the universally accepted socialist principle of democratic government. lenine did not hesitate to declare that democracy itself was a "bourgeois conception" which the revolutionary proletariat must overthrow, a declaration hard to reconcile with his demand for a "democratic republic." russia must not become a democratic republic, he argued, for a democratic republic is a bourgeois republic. again and again, during the time we are discussing and later, lenine assailed the principle of democratic government. "since march, , the word 'democracy' is simply a shackle fastened upon the revolutionary nation," he declared in an article written after the bolsheviki had overthrown kerensky.[ ] when democracy is abolished, parliamentary government goes with it. from the first days after his return to russia lenine advocated, instead of a parliamentary republic similar to that of france or the united states, what he called a soviet republic, which would be formed upon these lines: local government would be carried on by local soviets composed of delegates elected by "the working class and the poorest peasantry," to use a common bolshevik phrase which bothers a great many people whose minds insist upon classifying peasants as "working-people" and part of the working class. what lenine means when he uses the phrase, and what litvinov means[ ] is that the industrial wage-workers--to whom is applied the term "working class"--must be sharply distinguished from peasants and small farmers, though the very poorest peasants, not being conservative, as more prosperous peasants are, can be united with the wage-workers. these local soviets functioning in local government would, in lenine's soviet republic, elect delegates to a central committee of all the soviets in the country, and that central committee would be the state. except in details of organization, this is not materially different from the fundamental idea of the i.w.w. with which we are familiar.[ ] according to the latter, the labor-unions, organized on industrial lines and federated through a central council, will take the place of parliamentary government elected on territorial lines. according to the bolshevik plan, soviets would take the place held by the unions in the plan of the i.w.w. it is not to be wondered at that, in the words of litvinov, lenine's own closest friends shrank from his scheme and lenine "was compelled to drop it for a time." v bolshevism was greatly strengthened in its leadership by the return of leon trotzky, who arrived in petrograd on may th. trotzky was born in moscow about forty-five years ago. like lenine, he is of bourgeois origin, his father being a wealthy moscow merchant. he is a jew and his real name is bronstein. to live under an assumed name has always been a common practice among russian revolutionists, for very good and cogent reasons. certainly all who knew anything at all of the personnel of the russian revolutionary movement during the past twenty years knew that trotzky was bronstein, and that he was a jew. the idea, assiduously disseminated by a section of the american press, that there must be something discreditable or mysterious connected with his adoption of an alias is extremely absurd, and can only be explained by monumental ignorance of russian revolutionary history. trotzky has been a fighter in the ranks of the revolutionary army of russia for twenty years. as early as his activities as a socialist propagandist among students had landed him in prison in solitary confinement. in he was exiled to eastern siberia, whence he managed to escape. during the next three years he lived abroad, except for brief intervals spent in russia, devoting himself to socialist journalism. his first pamphlet, published in geneva in , was an attempt to reconcile the two factions in the social democratic party, the bolsheviki and the mensheviki. he was an orthodox marxist of the most extreme doctrinaire type, and naturally inclined to the bolshevik view. yet he never joined the bolsheviki, preferring to remain aloof from both factions and steadfastly and earnestly striving to unite them. when the revolution of broke out trotzky had already attained considerable influence among the socialists. he was regarded as one of the ablest of the younger marxians, and men spoke of him as destined to occupy the place of plechanov. he became one of the most influential leaders of the st. petersburg soviet, and was elected its president. in that capacity he labored with titanic energy and manifested great versatility, as organizer, writer, speaker, and arbiter of disputes among warring individuals and groups. when the end came he was arrested and thrown into prison, where he remained for twelve months. after that he was tried and sentenced to life-exile in northern siberia. from this he managed to escape, however, and from until the outbreak of the war in he lived in vienna. the first two years of the war he lived in france, doing editorial work for a radical russian socialist daily paper, the _nashe slovo_. his writing, together with his activity in the zimmerwald movement of anti-war socialists, caused his expulsion from france. the swiss government having refused to permit him to enter switzerland, he sought refuge in spain, where he was once more arrested and imprisoned for a short time. released through the intervention of spanish socialists, he set sail with his family for new york, where he arrived early in january, . soon after the news of the russian revolution thrilled the world trotzky, like many other russian exiles, made hasty preparations to return, sailing on march th on a norwegian steamer. at halifax he and his family, together with a number of other russian revolutionists, were taken from the ship and interned in a camp for war prisoners, trotzky resisting violently and having to be carried off the ship. the british authorities kept them interned for a month, but finally released them at the urgent demand of the foreign minister of the russian provisional government, miliukov. such, in brief outline, is the history of the man trotzky. it is a typical russian history: the story of a persistent, courageous, and exceedingly able fighter for an ideal believed in with fanatical devotion. lenine, in one of his many disputes with trotzky, called him "a man who blinds himself with revolutionary phrases,"[ ] and the description is very apt. he possesses all the usual characteristics of the revolutionary jewish socialists of russia. to a high-strung, passionate, nervous temperament and an exceedingly active imagination he unites a keen intellect which finds its highest satisfaction in theoretical abstractions and subtleties, and which accepts, phrases as though they were realities. understanding of trotzky's attitude during the recent revolutionary and counter-revolutionary struggles is made easier by understanding the development of his thought in the first revolution, - . he began as an extremely orthodox marxist, and believed that any attempt to establish a socialist order in russia until a more or less protracted intensive economic development, exhausting the possibilities of capitalism, made change inevitable, must fail. he accepted the view that a powerful capitalist class must be developed and perform its indispensable historical rôle, to be challenged and overthrown in its turn by the proletariat. that was the essence of his pure and unadulterated faith. to it he clung with all the tenacity of his nature, deriding as "utopians" and "dreamers" the peasant socialists who refused to accept the marxian theory of socialism as the product of historic necessity as applicable to russia. the great upheaval of changed his viewpoint. the manner in which revolutionary ideas spread among the masses created in trotzky, as in many others, almost unbounded confidence and enthusiasm. in an essay written soon after the outbreak of the revolution he wrote: "the revolution has come. _one move of hers has lifted the people over scores of steps, up which in times of peace we would have had to drag ourselves with hardships and fatigue_." the idea that the revolution had "lifted the people over scores of steps" possessed him and changed his whole conception of the manner in which socialism was to come. still calling himself a marxist, and believing as strongly as ever in the fundamental marxian doctrines, as he understood them, he naturally devoted his keen mind with its peculiar aptitude for talmudic hair-splitting to a new interpretation of marxism. he declared his belief that in russia it was possible to change from absolutism to socialism immediately, without the necessity of a prolonged period of capitalist development. at the same time, he maintained a scornful attitude toward the "utopianism" of the peasant socialists, who had always made the same contention, because he believed they based their hopes and their policy upon a wrong conception of socialism. he had small patience for their agrarian socialism with its economic basis in peasant-proprietorship and voluntary co-operation. he argued that the russian bourgeoisie was so thoroughly infected with the ills of the bureaucratic system that it was itself decadent; not virile and progressive as a class aiming to possess the future must be. since it was thus corrupted and weakened, and therefore incapable of fulfilling any revolutionary historical rôle, that became the _immediate_ task of the proletariat. here was an example of the manner in which lifting over revolutionary steps was accomplished. of course, the peasantry was in a backward and even primitive state which unfitted it for the proletarian rôle. nevertheless, it had a class consciousness of its own, and an irresistible hunger for land. without this class supporting it, or, at least, acquiescing in its rule, the proletariat could never hope to seize and hold the power of government. it would be possible to solve the difficulty here presented, trotzky contended, if the enactment of the peasant program were permitted during the revolution and accepted by the proletariat as a _fait accompli_. this would satisfy the peasants and make them content to acquiesce in a proletarian dictatorship. once firmly established in power, it would be possible for the proletariat to gradually apply the true socialist solution to the agrarian problem and to convert the peasants. "once in power, the proletariat will appear before the peasantry as its liberator," he wrote. his imagination fired by the manner in which the soviet of which he was president held the loyalty of the masses during the revolutionary uprising, and the representative character it developed, trotzky conceived the idea that it lent itself admirably to the scheme of proletarian dictatorship. parliamentary government cannot be used to impose and maintain a dictatorship, whether of autocracy or oligarchy, bourgeoisie or proletariat. in the soviet, as a result of six weeks' experience in abnormal times, during which it was never for a moment subjected to the test of maintaining the economic life of the nation, trotzky saw the ideal proletarian government. he once described the soviet as "a true, unadulterated democracy," but, unless we are to dismiss the description as idle and vain rhetoric, we must assume that the word "democracy" was used in an entirely new sense, utterly incompatible with its etymological and historical meaning. democracy has always meant absence of class rule; proletarian dictatorship is class rule. in the foregoing analysis of the theoretical and tactical views which trotzky held during and immediately after the first revolution, it is easy to see the genesis of the policies of the bolshevik government which came twelve years later. the intervening years served only to deepen his convictions. at the center of all his thinking during that period was his belief in the sufficiency of the soviet, and in the need of proletarian dictatorship. throwing aside the first cautious thought that these things arose from the peculiar conditions existing in russia as a result of her retarded economic development, he had come to regard them as applicable to all nations and to all peoples, except, perhaps, the peoples still living in barbarism or savagery. vi after the crisis which resulted in the resignation of miliukov and guchkov, it was evident that the lvov government could not long endure. the situation in the army, as well as in the country, was so bad that the complete reorganization of the provisional government, upon much more radical lines, was imperative. the question arose among the revolutionary working-class organizations whether they should consent to co-operation with the liberal bourgeoisie in a new coalition cabinet or whether they should refuse such co-operation and fight exclusively on class lines. this, of course, opened the entire controversy between bolsheviki and mensheviki. in the mean time the war-weary nation was clamoring for peace. the army was demoralized and saturated with the defeatism preached by the porazhentsi. to deal with this grave situation two important conventions were arranged for, as follows: the convention of soldiers' delegates from the front, which opened on may th and lasted for about a week, and the first all-russian congress of peasants' delegates, which opened on may th and lasted for about twelve days. between the two gatherings there was also an important meeting of the petrograd council of workmen's and soldiers' deputies, which dealt with the same grave situation. the dates here are of the greatest significance: the first convention was opened three days before miliukov's resignation and was in session when that event occurred; the second convention was opened four days after the resignation of miliukov and one day after that of guchkov. it was guchkov's unique experience to address the convention of soldiers' delegates from the front as minister of war and marine, explaining and defending his policy with great ability, and then, some days later, to address the same assembly as a private citizen. guchkov drew a terrible picture of the seriousness of the military situation. with truly amazing candor he described conditions and explained how they had been brought about. he begged the soldiers not to lay down their arms, but to fight with new courage. kerensky followed with a long speech, noble and full of pathos. in some respects, it was the most powerful of all the appeals it fell to his lot to make to his people, who were staggering in the too strong sunlight of an unfamiliar freedom. he did not lack courage to speak plainly: "my heart and soul are uneasy. i am greatly worried and i must say so openly, no matter what ... the consequences will be. the process of resurrecting the country's creative forces for the purpose of establishing the new régime rests on the basis of liberty and personal responsibility.... a century of slavery has not only demoralized the government and transformed the old officials into a band of traitors, _but it has also destroyed in the people themselves the consciousness of their responsibility for their fate, their country's destiny_." it was in this address that he cried out in his anguish: "i regret that i did not die two months ago. i would have died happy with the dream that the flame of a new life has been kindled in russia, hopeful of a time when we could respect one another's right without resorting to the knout." to the soldiers kerensky brought this challenge: "you fired on the people when the government demanded. but now, when it comes to obeying your own revolutionary government, you can no longer endure further sacrifice! does this mean that free russia is a nation of rebellious slaves?" he closed with an eloquent peroration: "i came here because i believe in my right to tell the truth as i understand it. people who even under the old régime went about their work openly and without fear of death, those people, i say, will not be terrorized. the fate of our country is in our hands and the country is in great danger. we have sipped of the cup of liberty and we are somewhat intoxicated; we are in need of the greatest possible sobriety and discipline. we must go down in history meriting the epitaph on our tombstones, 'they died, but they were never slaves.'" from the petrograd council of workmen's and soldiers' deputies came i.g. tseretelli, who had just returned from ten years' siberian exile. a native of georgia, a prince, nearly half of his forty-two years had been spent either in socialist service or in exile brought about by such service. a man of education, wise in leadership and a brilliant orator, his leadership of the socialist group in the second duma had marked him as one of the truly great men of russia. to the convention of soldiers' delegates from the front tseretelli brought the decisions of the council of workmen's and soldiers' deputies, in shaping which he had taken an important part with tchcheidze, skobelev, and others. the council had decided "to send an appeal to the soldiers at the front, and to explain to them that _in order to bring about universal peace it is necessary to defend the revolution and russia by defending the front_." this action had been taken despite the opposition of the bolsheviki, and showed that the moderate socialists were still in control of the soviet. an appeal to the army, drawn up by tseretelli, was adopted by the vote of every member except the bolsheviki, who refrained from voting. this appeal to the army tseretelli presented to the soldiers' delegates from the front: comrades, soldiers at the front, in the name of the revolutionary democracy, we make a fervent appeal to you. a hard task has fallen to your lot. you have paid a dear price, you have paid with your blood, a dear price indeed, for the crimes of the czar who sent you to fight and left you without arms, without ammunition, without bread! why, the privation you now suffer is the work of the czar and his coterie of self-seeking associates who brought the country to ruin. and the revolution will need the efforts of many to overcome the disorganization left her as a heritage by these robbers and executioners. the working class did not need the war. the workers did not begin it. it was started by the czars and capitalists of all countries. each day of war is for the people only a day of unnecessary suffering and misfortune. having dethroned the czar, the russian people have selected for their first problem the ending of the war in the quickest possible manner. the council of workmen's and soldiers' deputies has appealed to all nations to end the butchery. we have appealed to the french and the english, to the germans and the austrians.[ ] russia wants an answer to this appeal. remember, however, comrades and soldiers, that our appeal will be of no value if the regiments of wilhelm overpower revolutionary russia before our brothers, the workers and peasants of other countries, will be able to respond. our appeal will become "a scrap of paper" if the whole strength of the revolutionary people does not stand behind it, if the triumph of wilhelm hohenzollern will be established on the ruins of russian freedom. the ruin of free russia will be a tremendous, irreparable misfortune, not only for us, but for the toilers of the whole world. comrades, soldiers, defend revolutionary russia with all your might! the workers and peasants of russia desire peace with all their soul. but this peace must be universal, a peace for all nations based on the agreement of all. what would happen if we should agree to a separate peace--a peace for ourselves alone! what would happen if the russian soldiers were to stick their bayonets into the ground to-day and say that they do not care to fight any longer, that it makes no difference to them what happens to the whole world! here is what would happen. having destroyed our allies in the west, german imperialism would rush in upon us with all the force of its arms. germany's imperialists, her landowners and capitalists, would put an iron heel on our necks, would occupy our cities, our villages, and our land, and would force us to pay tribute to her. was it to bow down at the feet of wilhelm that we overthrew nicholas? comrades--soldiers! the council of workmen's and soldiers' deputies leads you to peace by another route. we lead you to peace by calling upon the workers and peasants of serbia and austria to rise and revolt; we lead you to peace by calling an international conference of socialists for a universal and determined revolt against war. there is a great necessity, comrades--soldiers, for the peoples of the world to awaken. time is needed in order that they should rebel and with an iron hand force their czars and capitalists to peace. time is needed so that the toilers of all lands should join with us for a merciless war upon violators and robbers. _but remember, comrades--soldiers, this time will never come if you do not stop the advance of the enemy at the front, if your ranks are crushed and under the feet of wilhelm falls the breathless corpse of the russian revolution_. remember, comrades, that at the front, in the trenches, you are now standing in defense of russia's freedom. you defend the revolution, you defend your brothers, the workers and peasants. let this defense be worthy of the great cause and the great sacrifices already made by you. _it is impossible to defend the front if, as has been decided, the soldiers are not to leave the trenches under any circumstances_.[ ] at times only an attack can repulse and prevent the advance of the enemy. at times awaiting an attack means patiently waiting for death. again, only the change to an advance may save you or your brothers, on other sections of the front, from destruction. remember this, comrades--soldiers! having sworn to defend russian freedom, do not refuse to start the offensive the military situation may require. the freedom and happiness of russia are in your hands. in defending this freedom be on the lookout for betrayal and trickery. the fraternization which is developing on the front can easily turn into such a trap. revolutionary armies may fraternize, but with whom? with an army also revolutionary, which has decided to die for peace and freedom. at present, however, not only in the german army, but even in the austro-hungarian army, in spite of the number of individuals politically conscious and honest, there is no revolution. in those countries the armies are still blindly following wilhelm and charles, the landowners and capitalists, and agree to annexation of foreign soil, to robberies and violence. there the general staff will make use not only of your credulity, but also of the blind obedience of their soldiers. you go out to fraternize with open hearts. and to meet you an officer of the general staff leaves the enemies' trenches, disguised as a common soldier. you speak with the enemy without any trickery. at that very time he photographs the surrounding territory. you stop the shooting to fraternize, but behind the enemies' trenches artillery is being moved, new positions built and troops transferred. comrades--soldiers, not by fraternization will you get peace, not by separate agreements made at the front by single companies, battalions, or regiments. not in separate peace or in a separate truce lies the salvation of the russian revolution, the triumph of peace for the whole world. the people who assure you that fraternizing is the road to peace lead you to destruction. do not believe them. the road to peace is a different one. it has been pointed out to you already by the council of workmen's and soldiers' deputies: tread it. sweep aside everything that weakens your fighting power, that brings into the army disorganization and loss of spirit. your fighting power serves the cause of peace. the council of workmen's and soldiers' deputies is able to continue its revolutionary work with all its might, to develop its struggle for peace, only by depending on you, knowing that you will not allow the military destruction of russia. comrades--soldiers, the workers and peasants, not only of russia, but of the whole world, look to you with confidence and hope. soldiers of the revolution, you will prove worthy of this faith, for you know that your military tasks serve the cause of peace. in the name of the happiness and freedom of revolutionary russia, in the name of the coming brotherhood of nations, you will fulfil your military duties with unconquerable strength. again and again tseretelli was interrupted with cheers as he read this appeal to the army. he was cheered, too, when he explained that the soviet had decided to support the reconstructed provisional government and called upon the soldiers to do likewise. there was a storm of applause when he said: "we well realize the necessity of having a strong power in russia; however, the strength of this power must rely upon its progressive and revolutionary policy. our government must adopt the revolutionary slogans of democracy. it must grant the demands of the revolutionary people. it must turn over all land to the laboring peasantry. it must safeguard the interests of the working class, enacting improved social legislation for the protection of labor. it must lead russia to a speedy and lasting peace worthy of a great people." when plechanov was introduced to the convention as "the veteran of the russian revolution" he received an ovation such as few men have ever been accorded. the great socialist theorist plunged into a keen and forceful attack upon the theories of the bolsheviki. he was frequently interrupted by angry cries and by impatient questionings, which he answered with rapier-like sentences. he was asked what a "democratic" government should be, and replied: "i am asked, 'what should a democratic government be? my answer is: it should be a government enjoying the people's full confidence and sufficiently strong to prevent any possibility of anarchy. under what condition, then, can such a strong, democratic government be established? in my opinion it is necessary, for this purpose, _that the government be composed of representatives of all those parts of the population that are not interested in the restoration of the old order. what is called a coalition ministry is necessary_. our comrades, the socialists, acknowledging the necessity of entering the government, can and should set forth definite conditions, definite demands. _but there should be no demands that would be unacceptable to the representatives of other classes, to the spokesmen of other parts of the population_." "would you have us russian proletarians fight in this war for england's colonial interests?" was one of the questions hurled at plechanov, and greeted by the jubilant applause of the bolsheviki. plechanov replied with great spirit, his reply evoking a storm of cheers: "the answer is clear to every one who accepts the principle of self-determination of nations," he said. "the colonies are not deserts, but populated localities, and their populations should also be given the right to determine freely their own destinies. it is clear that russia cannot fight for the sake of any one's predatory aspirations. _but i am surprised that the question of annexations is raised in russia, whose sixteen provinces are under the prussian heel!_ i do not understand this exclusive solicitude for germany's interests." to those who advocated fraternization, who were engaged in spreading the idea that the german working class would refuse to fight against the russian revolutionists, the great socialist teacher, possessing one of the ripest minds in the whole international socialist movement, and an intimate knowledge of the history of that movement, made vigorous reply and recited a significant page of socialist history: "in the fall of , when wilhelm was planning to move his troops on the then revolutionary russia, i asked my comrades, the german social democrats, 'what will you do in case wilhelm declares war on russia?' at the party convention in mannheim, bebel gave me an answer to this question. bebel introduced a resolution in favor of the declaration of a general strike in the event of war being declared on russia. but this resolution was not adopted; _members of the trade-unions voted against it_. this is a fact which you should not forget. bebel had to beat a retreat and introduce another resolution. kautsky and rosa luxemburg were dissatisfied with bebel's conduct. i asked kautsky whether there is a way to bring about a general strike against the workers' will. as there is no such way, there was nothing else that bebel could do. _and if wilhelm had sent his hordes to russia in , the german workers would not have done an earthly thing to prevent the butchery_. in september, , the situation was still worse." the opposition to plechanov on the part of some of the delegates was an evidence of the extent to which disaffection, defeatism, and the readiness to make peace at any price almost--a general peace preferably, but, if not, then a separate peace--had permeated even the most intelligent part of the russian army. bolshevism and its ally, defeatism, were far more influential in the ranks of the soldiers than in those of the workers in the factories. yet the majority was with kerensky, tseretelli, and plechanov, as the following resolutions adopted by the convention prove: the first convention of the delegates from the front, having heard reports on current problems from the representatives of the provisional government, members of the executive committee of the council of workmen's and soldiers' delegates, and from representatives of the socialist parties, and having considered the situation, hereby resolves: ( ) that the disorganization of the food-supply system and the weakening of the army's fighting capacity, due to a distrust of a majority of the military authorities, to lack of inner organization, and to other temporary causes, have reached such a degree that the freedom won by the revolution is seriously endangered. ( ) that the sole salvation lies in establishing a government enjoying the full confidence of the toiling masses, in the awakening of a creative revolutionary enthusiasm, and in concerted self-sacrificing work on the part of all the elements of the population. the convention extends to the council of workmen's and soldiers' delegates its warmest appreciation of the latter's self-sacrificing and honest work for the strengthening of the new order in russia, in the interests of the russian democracy and at the same time wishes to see, in the nearest possible future, the above council transformed into an all-russian council of workmen's and soldiers' delegates. _the convention is of the opinion that the war is at present conducted for purposes of conquest and against the interests of the masses_, and it, therefore, urges the council of workmen's and soldiers' delegates to take the most energetic and effective measures for the purpose of ending this butchery, on the basis of free self-determination of nations and of renunciation by all belligerent countries of annexations and indemnities. not a drop of russian blood shall be given for aims foreign to us. considering that the earliest possible achievement of this purpose is contingent only upon a strong revolutionary army, which would defend freedom and government, and be fully supported by the organized revolutionary democracy, that is, by the council of workmen's and soldiers' delegates, responsible for its acts to the whole country, the convention welcomes the responsible decision of the council of workmen's and soldiers' delegates to take part in the new provisional government. the convention demands that the representatives of the church give up for the country's benefit the treasures and funds now in the possession of churches and monasteries. the convention makes an urgent appeal to all parts of the population. . to the comrade-soldiers in the rear: comrades! come to fill up our thinning ranks in the trenches and rise shoulder to shoulder with us for the country's defense! . comrade-workers! work energetically and unite your efforts, and in this way help us in our last fight for universal peace for nations! by strengthening the front you will strengthen freedom! . fellow-citizens of the capitalist class! follow the historic example of minin! even as he, open your treasuries and quickly bring your money to the aid of russia! . to the peasants: fathers and brothers! bring your last mite to help the weakening front! give us bread, and oats and hay to our horses. remember that the future russia will be yours! . comrades-intellectuals! come to us and bring the light of knowledge into our dark trenches! share with us the difficult work of advancing russia's freedom and prepare us for the citizenship of new russia! . to the russian women: support your husbands and sons in the performing of their civil duty to the country! replace them where this is not beyond your strength! let your scorn drive away all those who are slackers in these difficult times! no one can read this declaration without a deep sense of the lofty and sincere citizenship of the brave men who adopted it as their expression. the fundamental loyalty of these leaders of the common soldiers, their spokesmen and delegates, is beyond question. pardonably weary of a war in which they had been more shamefully betrayed and neglected than any other army in modern times, frankly suspicious of capitalist governments which had made covenants with the hated romanov dynasty, they were still far from being ready to follow the leadership of bolsheviki. they had, instead, adopted the sanely constructive policy of tchcheidze, tseretelli, skobelev, plechanov, and other socialists who from the first had seen the great struggle in its true perspective. that they did not succeed in averting disaster is due in part to the fact that the revolution itself had come too late to make military success possible, and in part to the failure of the governments allied with russia to render intelligent aid. vii the provisional government was reorganized. before we consider the actions of the all-russian congress of peasants' delegates, one of the most important gatherings of representatives of russian workers ever held, the reorganization of the provisional government merits attention. on the th, at a special sitting of the duma, guchkov and miliukov explained why they had resigned. guchkov made it a matter of conscience. anarchy had entered into the administration of the army and navy, he said: "in the way of reforms the new government has gone very far. not even in the most democratic countries have the principles of self-government, freedom, and equality been so extensively applied in military life. we have gone somewhat farther than the danger limit, and the impetuous current drives us farther still.... i could not consent to this dangerous work; i could not sign my name to orders and laws which in my opinion would lead to a rapid deterioration of our military forces. a country, and especially an army, cannot be administered on the principles of meetings and conferences." miliukov told his colleagues of the duma that he had not resigned of his own free will, but under pressure: "i had to resign, yielding not to force, but to the wish of a considerable majority of my colleagues. with a clear conscience i can say that i did not leave on my own account, but was compelled to leave." nevertheless, he said, the foreign policy he had pursued was the correct one. "you could see for yourselves that my activity in foreign politics was in accord with your ideas," he declared amid applause which eloquently testified to the approval with which the bourgeoisie regarded policies and tendencies which the proletariat condemned. he pointed out that the pacifist policies of zimmerwald and keinthal had permeated a large part of the socialist movement, and that the soviet, the councils of workmen's and soldiers' delegates, claiming to exercise control over the provisional government, were divided. he feared that the proposal to establish a coalition government would not lead to success, because of "discord in the council of workmen's and soldiers' delegates itself." not all the members of the latter body were agreed upon entering into a coalition government, and "it is evident that those who do not enter the government will continue to criticize those who have entered, and it is possible that the socialists who enter the cabinet will find themselves confronted with the same storm of criticism as the government did before." still, because it meant the creation of a stronger government at once, which was the most vital need, he, like guchkov, favored a coalition which would ally the constitutional democratic party with the majority of the socialists. the soviet had decided at its meeting on may th to participate in a coalition ministry. the struggle upon that question between bolsheviki and mensheviki was long and bitter. the vote, which was forty-one in favor of participation to nineteen against, probably fairly represented the full strength of bolshevism in its stronghold. after various conferences between premier lvov and the other ministers, on the one side, and representatives of the soviet, on the other side, a new provisional government was announced, with prince lvov again prime minister. in the new cabinet there were seven constitutional democrats, six socialists, and two octobrists. as minister of war and head of the army and navy alexander kerensky took the place of guchkov, while p.n. pereverzev, a clever member of the socialist-revolutionary party, succeeded kerensky as minister of justice. in miliukov's position at the head of the ministry of foreign affairs was placed m.i. terestchenko, a wealthy sugar-manufacturer, member of the constitutional-democratic party, who had held the post of minister of finance, which was now given to a.i. shingariev, a brilliant member of the same party, who had proved his worth and capacity as minister of agriculture. to the latter post was appointed v.m. chernov, the leader of the socialist-revolutionists, one of the most capable socialists in russia, or, for that matter, the world. other socialists of distinction in the new provisional government were i.g. tseretelli, as minister of posts and telegraphs, and m.i. skobelev, as minister of labor. as minister of supply an independent socialist, a.v. peshekhonov, was chosen. it was a remarkable cabinet. so far as the socialists were concerned, it would have been difficult to select worthier or abler representatives. as in the formation of the first provisional government, attempts had been made to induce tchcheidze to accept a position in the cabinet, but without success. he could not be induced to enter a coalition ministry, though he strongly and even enthusiastically supported in the soviet the motion to participate in such a ministry. apart from the regret caused by tchcheidze's decision, it was felt on every hand that the socialists had sent into the second provisional government their strongest and most capable representatives; men who possessed the qualities of statesmen and who would fill their posts with honorable distinction and full loyalty. on the side of the constitutional democrats and the octobrists, too, there were men of sterling character, distinguished ability, and very liberal minds. the selection of terestchenko as minister of foreign affairs was by many socialists looked upon with distrust, but, upon the whole, the coalition ministry met with warm approbation. if any coalition of the sort could succeed, the cabinet headed by prince lvov might be expected to do so. on the th, the petrograd council of workmen's and soldiers' delegates adopted a resolution, introduced by tchcheidze, president of the council, warmly approving the entrance of the socialist ministers into the cabinet and accepting the declaration of the new provisional government as satisfactory. this resolution was bitterly opposed by the bolsheviki, who were led in the fight by trotzky. this was trotzky's first speech in petrograd since his arrival the previous day from america. his speech was a demagogic appeal against co-operation with any bourgeois elements. participation in the coalition ministry by the socialists was a dangerous policy, he argued, since it sacrificed the fundamental principle of class struggle. elaborating his views further, he said: "i never believed that the emancipation of the working class will come from above. division of power will not cease with the entrance of the socialists into the ministry. a strong revolutionary power is necessary. the russian revolution will not perish. but i believe only in a miracle from below. there are three commandments for the proletariat. they are: first, transmission of power to the revolutionary people; second, control over their own leaders; and third, confidence in their own revolutionary powers." this was the beginning of trotzky's warfare upon the coalition government, a warfare which he afterward systematically waged with all his might. tchcheidze and others effectively replied to the bolshevik leader's criticisms and after long and strenuous debate the resolution of the executive committee presented by tchcheidze was carried by a large majority, the opposition only mustering seven votes. the resolution read as follows: acknowledging that the declaration of the provisional government, which has been reconstructed and fortified by the entrance of representatives of the revolutionary democracy, conforms to the idea and purpose of strengthening the achievements of the revolution and its further development, the council of workmen's and soldiers' delegates has determined: i. representatives of the council of workmen's and soldiers' delegates must enter into the provisional government. ii. those representatives of the council of workmen's and soldiers' delegates who join the government must, until the creation of an all-russian organ of the council of workmen's and soldiers' delegates, consider themselves responsible to the petrograd council of workmen's and soldiers' delegates, and must pledge themselves to give accounts of all their activities to that council. iii. the council of workmen's and soldiers' delegates expresses its full confidence in the new provisional government, and urges all friends of democracy to give this government active assistance, which will insure it the full measure of power necessary for the safety of the revolution's gains and for its further development. if there is any one thing which may be said with certainty concerning the state of working-class opinion in russia at that time, two months after the overthrow of the old régime, it is that the overwhelming majority of the working-people, both city workers and peasants, supported the policy of the mensheviki and the socialist-revolutionists--the policy of co-operating with liberal bourgeois elements to win the war and create a stable government--as against the policy of the bolsheviki. the two votes of the petrograd soviet told where the city workers stood. that very section of the proletariat upon which the bolsheviki leaders based their hopes had repudiated them in the most emphatic manner. the delegates of the soldiers at the front had shown that they would not follow the advice of the leaders of the bolsheviki. and at the first opportunity which presented itself the peasants placed themselves in definite opposition to bolshevism. on the afternoon preceding the action of the soviet in giving its indorsement to the new provisional government and instructing its representatives to enter the coalition cabinet, there assembled in the people's house, petrograd, more than one thousand peasant delegates to the first all-russian congress of peasants. never before had so many peasant delegates been gathered together in russia to consider their special problems. there were present delegates from every part of russia, even from the extreme border provinces, and many from the front. on the platform were the members of the organizing committee, the executive committee of the council of workmen's and soldiers' delegates, the socialist-revolutionary party, the social democratic party, and a number of prominent socialist leaders. as might be expected in a peasants' congress, members of the socialist-revolutionary party were in the majority, numbering . the next largest group was the social democratic party, including bolsheviki and mensheviki, numbering . there were delegates described as non-partizan; belonged to the group called the "people's socialists" and to the labor group. it was the most representative body of peasant workers ever brought together. among the first speakers to address the congress was the venerable "grandmother" of the russian revolution, catherine breshkovskaya, who spoke with the freedom accorded to her and to her alone. "tell me," she demanded, "is there advantage to us in keeping our front on a war footing and in allowing the people to sit in trenches with their hands folded and to die from fever, scurvy, and all sorts of contagious diseases? if our army had a real desire to help the allies, the war would be finished in one or two months, _but we are prolonging it by sitting with our hands folded_." v.m. chernov, leader of the socialist-revolutionary party, the new minister of agriculture, made a notable address in which he traversed with great skill and courage the arguments of the bolsheviki, making a superb defense of the policy of participation in the government. kerensky, idol of the peasants, appearing for the first time as minister of war and head of the army and navy, made a vigorous plea for unity, for self-discipline, and for enthusiastic support of the new provisional government. he did not mince matters: "i intend to establish an iron discipline in the army. i am certain that i shall succeed in my undertaking, because it will be a discipline based upon duty toward the country, the duty of honor.... by all means, we must see that the country becomes free and strong enough to elect the constituent assembly, the assembly which, through its sovereign, absolute power, will give to the toiling russian peasants that for which they have been yearning for centuries, the land.... we are afraid of no demagogues, whether they come from the right or from the left. we shall attend to our business, quietly and firmly." kerensky begged the peasants to assert their will that there should be "no repetition of the sad events of - , when the entire country seemed already in our hands, but slipped out because it became involved in anarchy." the speech created a profound impression and it was voted to have it printed in millions of copies, at the expense of the congress, and have them distributed throughout the army. a similar honor was accorded the speech of i.i. bunakov, one of the best known and most popular of the leaders of the socialist-revolutionary party. with remorseless logic he traversed the arguments of the bolsheviki and the porazhentsi. taking the cry that there must be "no annexations," for example, he declared that the peasants of russia could only accept that in the sense that poland be reunited and her independence be restored; that the people of alsace and lorraine be permitted to be reunited to france; that armenia be taken from turkey and made independent. the peasants could not accept the _status quo ante_ as a basis for peace. he assailed the treacherous propaganda for a separate peace with terrific scorn: "but such peace is unacceptable to us peasants. a separate peace would kill not only our revolution, but the cause of social revolution the world over. a separate peace is dishonor for russia and treason toward the allies.... we must start an offensive. to remain in the trenches without moving is a separate truce, more shameful even than a separate peace. a separate truce demoralizes the army and ruins the people. this spring, according to our agreement with the allies, we should have begun a general offensive, but instead of that we have concluded a separate truce. _the allies saved the russian revolution, but they are becoming exhausted_.... when our minister of war, kerensky, speaks of starting an offensive, the russian army must support him with all its strength, with all the means available.... from here we should send our delegates to the front and urge our army to wage an offensive. let the army know that it must fight and die for russia's freedom, for the peace of the whole world, and for the coming socialist commonwealth." in the resolutions which were adopted the congress confined itself to outlining a program for the constituent assembly, urging the abolition of private property in land, forests, water-power, mines, and mineral resources. it urged the provisional government to "issue an absolutely clear and unequivocal statement which would show that on this question the provisional government will allow nobody to oppose the people's will." it also issued a special appeal "to the peasants and the whole wage-earning population of russia" to vote at the forthcoming elections for the constituent assembly, "only for those candidates who pledge themselves to advocate the nationalization of the land without reimbursement on principles of equality." in the election for an executive committee to carry on the work of the congress and maintain the organization the delegates with bolshevist tendencies were "snowed under." those who were elected were, practically without exception, stalwart supporters of the policy of participation in and responsibility for the provisional government, and known to be ardent believers in the constituent assembly. chernov, with votes, led the poll; breshkovskaya came next with ; kerensky came third with ; avksentiev had ; bunakov ; vera finger , and so on. nineteenth on the list of thirty elected came the venerable nicholas tchaykovsky, well known in america. once more a great representative body of russian working-people had spoken and rejected the teachings and the advice of the bolsheviki. viii as we have seen, it was with the authority and mandate of the overwhelming majority of the organized workers that the socialists entered the coalition ministry. it was with that mandate that kerensky undertook the herculean task of restoring the discipline and morale of the russian army. in that work he was the agent and representative of the organized working class. for this reason, if for no other, kerensky and his associates were entitled to expect and to receive the loyal support of all who professed loyalty to the working class. instead of giving that support, however, the bolsheviki devoted themselves to the task of defeating every effort of the provisional government to carry out its program, which, it must be borne in mind, had been approved by the great mass of the organized workers. they availed themselves of every means in their power to hamper kerensky in his work and to hinder the organization of the economic resources of the nation to sustain the military forces. kerensky had promised to organize preparations for a vigorous offensive against the austro-german forces. that such offensive was needed was obvious and was denied by none except the ultra-pacifists and the bolsheviki. the congress of soldiers' delegates from the front and the petrograd soviet had specifically urged the need of such an offensive, as had most of the well-known peasants' leaders. it was a working-class policy. but that fact did not prevent the bolsheviki from throwing obstacles in the way of its fulfilment. they carried on an active propaganda among the men in the army and the navy, urging insubordination, fraternization, and refusal to fight. they encouraged sabotage as a means of insuring the failure of the efforts of the provisional government. so thoroughly did they play into the hands of the german military authorities, whether intentionally or otherwise, that the charge of being in the pay of germany was made against them--not by prejudiced bourgeois politicians and journalists, but by the most responsible socialists in russia. the epic story of kerensky's magnificently heroic fight to recreate the russian army is too well known to need retelling here. though it was vain and ended in failure, as it was foredoomed to do, it must forever be remembered with gratitude and admiration by all friends of freedom. the audacity and the courage with which kerensky and a few loyal associates strove to maintain russia in the struggle made the allied nations, and all the civilized world, their debtors. many mistakes were made, it is true, yet it is very doubtful if human beings could have achieved more or succeeded where they failed. it must be confessed, furthermore, that the governments of the nations with which they were allied made many grievous mistakes on their part. perhaps the greatest blunder that a discriminating posterity will charge to kerensky's account was the signing of the famous declaration of soldiers' rights. this document, which was signed on may th, can only be regarded in the light of a surrender to overpowering forces. in his address to the all-russian congress of peasants' delegates, on may th, speaking for the first time in his capacity as minister of war, kerensky had declared, "i intend to establish an iron discipline in the army," yet the declaration of soldiers' rights which he signed nine days later was certain to make any real discipline impossible. was it because he was inconsistent, vacillating, and weak that kerensky attached his name to such a document? such a judgment would be gravely unjust to a great man. the fact is that kerensky's responsibility was very small indeed. he and his socialist associates in the cabinet held their positions by authority of the council of workmen's and soldiers' delegates, and they had agreed to be subject to its guidance and instruction. the soviet was responsible for the declaration of soldiers' rights. kerensky was acting under its orders. the soviet had already struck a fatal blow at military discipline by its famous order number one, which called on the soldiers not to execute the orders of their officers unless the orders were first approved by the revolutionary authorities--that is, by the soviet or its accredited agents. that the order was prompted by an intense love for revolutionary ideals, or that it was justified by the amount of treachery which had been discovered among the officers of the army, may explain and even excuse it, but the fact remains that it was a deadly blow at military discipline. the fact that kerensky's predecessor, guchkov, had to appear at a convention of soldiers' delegates and explain and defend his policies showed that discipline was at a low ebb. it brought the army into the arena of politics and made questions of military strategy subject to political maneuvering. the declaration of soldiers' rights was a further step along a road which inevitably led to disaster. that remarkable document provided that soldiers and officers of all ranks should enjoy full civic and political rights; that they should be free to speak or write upon any subject; that their correspondence should be uncensored; that while on duty they should be free to receive any printed matter, books, papers, and so on, which they desired. it provided for the abolition of the compulsory salute to officers; gave the private soldier the right to discard his uniform when not actually on service and to leave barracks freely during "off-duty" hours. finally, it placed all matters pertaining to the management in the hands of elective committees in the composition of which the men were to have four-fifths of the elective power and the officers one-fifth. of course, the declaration of soldiers' rights represented a violent reaction. under the old régime the army was a monstrously cruel machine; the soldiers were slaves. at the first opportunity they had revolted and, as invariably happens, the pendulum had swung too far. on may th the council of workmen's and soldiers' delegates issued a declaration in which it was said: "from now on the soldier-citizen is free from the slavery of saluting, and as an equal, free person will greet whomsoever he chooses.... discipline in the revolutionary army will exist, prompted by popular enthusiasm and the sense of duty toward the free country rather than by a slavish salute." if we are tempted to laugh at this naïve idealism, we americans will do well to remember that it was an american statesman-idealist who believed that we could raise an army of a million men overnight, and that a shrewd american capitalist-idealist sent forth a "peace ship" with a motley crew of dreamers and disputers to end the greatest war in history. ix throughout the first half of june, while arrangements for a big military offensive were being made, and were causing kerensky and the other socialist ministers to strain every nerve, lenine, trotzky, kamenev, zinoviev, and other leaders of the bolsheviki were as strenuously engaged in denouncing the offensive and trying to make it impossible. whatever gift or genius these men possessed was devoted wholly to destruction and obstruction. the student will search in vain among the multitude of records of meetings, conventions, debates, votes, and resolutions for a single instance of participation in any constructive act, one positive service to the soldiers at the front or the workers' families in need, by any bolshevik leader. but they never missed an opportunity to embarrass those who were engaged in such work, and by so doing add to the burden that was already too heavy. lenine denounced the offensive against germany as "an act of treason against the socialist international" and poured out the vials of his wrath against kerensky, who was, as we know, simply carrying out the decisions of the soviet and other working-class organizations. thus we had the astonishing and tragic spectacle of one socialist leader working with titanic energy among the troops who had been betrayed and demoralized by the old régime, seeking to stir them into action against the greatest militarist system in the world, while another socialist leader worked with might and main to defeat that attempt and to prevent the rehabilitation of the demoralized army. and all the while the german general staff gloated at every success of the bolsheviki. there was a regular system of communications between the irreconcilable revolutionists and the german general staff. in proof of this statement only one illustration need be offered, though many such could be cited: at the all-russian congress of workmen's and soldiers' delegates, on june d, kerensky read, in the presence of lenine, a long message, signed by the commander-in-chief of the german eastern front, sent by wireless in response to a declaration of certain delegates of the council of workmen's and soldiers' delegates. at this session lenine bitterly assailed the proposed offensive. he said that it was impossible for either side to win a military victory, revamping all the defeatist arguments that were familiar in every country. he minimized the loss which russia had suffered at germany's hands, and the gains germany had made in belgium and northern france, pointing out that she had, on the other hand, lost her colonies, which england would be very unlikely to give back unless compelled to do so by other nations. taunted with being in favor of a separate peace with germany, lenine indignantly denied the accusation. "it is a lie," he cried. "down with a separate peace! _we russian revolutionists will never consent to it._" he argued that there could be only one policy for socialists in any country--namely, to seize the occasion of war to overthrow the capitalist-class rule in that country. no war entered into by a capitalist ruling class, regardless what its motives, should be supported by socialists. he argued that the adoption of his policy by the russian working class would stand ten times the chance of succeeding that the military policy would have. the german working class would compel their government and the general staff to follow the example of russia and make peace. kerensky was called upon to reply to lenine. at the time when the restoration of the army required all his attention and all his strength, it was necessary for kerensky to attend innumerable and well-nigh interminable debates and discussions to maintain stout resistance to the bolshevik offensive always being waged in the rear. that, of course, was part of the bolshevist plan of campaign. so kerensky, wearied by his tremendous efforts to perform the task assigned him by the workers, answered lenine. his reply was a forensic masterpiece. he took the message of the commander-in-chief of the german eastern front and hurled it at lenine's head, figuratively speaking, showing how lenine's reasoning was paralleled in the german propaganda. with merciless logic and incisive phrase he showed how the bolsheviki were using the formula, "the self-determination of nationalities," as the basis of a propaganda to bring about the dismemberment of russia and its reduction to a chaotic medley of small, helpless states. to lenine's statements about the readiness of the german working class to rebel, kerensky made retort that lenine should have remained in germany while on his way to russia and preached his ideas there. a few days earlier, at a session of the same congress, trotzky and kamenev had made vigorous assault upon the coalition government and upon the socialist policy with reference thereto. in view of what subsequently transpired, it is important to note that trotzky made much of the delay in calling together the constituent assembly: "the policy of continual postponement _and the detailed preparations_ for calling the constituent assembly is a false policy. it may destroy even the very realization of the constituent assembly." this profession of concern for the constituent assembly was hypocritical, dishonest, and insincere. he did not in the least care about or believe in the constituent assembly, and had not done so at any time since the first revolution of - . his whole thought rejected such a democratic instrument. however, he and his associates knew that the demand for a constituent assembly was almost universal, and that to resist that demand was impossible. their very obvious policy in the circumstances was to try and force the holding of the assembly prematurely, without adequate preparation, and without affording an opportunity for a nation-wide electoral campaign. a hastily gathered, badly organized constituent assembly would be a mob-gathering which could be easily stampeded or controlled by a determined minority. trotzky assailed the coalition government with vitriolic passion. at the moment when it was obvious to everybody that unity of effort was the only possible condition for the survival of the revolution, and that any division in the ranks of the revolutionists, no matter upon what it might be based, must imperil the whole movement, he and all his bolshevik colleagues deliberately stirred up dissension. even if their opposition to political union with non-proletarian parties was right as the basis of a sound policy, to insist upon it at the moment of dire peril was either treachery or madness. when a house is already on fire the only thing in order, the only thing that can have the sanction of wisdom and honor, is to work to extinguish the fire. it is obviously not the time to debate whether the house was properly built or whether mistakes were made. russia was a house on fire; the bolsheviki insisted upon endless debating. kamenev followed trotzky's lead in attacking the coalition government. in a subtle speech he supported the idea of splitting russia up into a large number of petty states, insisting that the formula, "self-determination of peoples," applied to the separatist movement in the ukraine. he insisted that for the russian working-people it was a matter of indifference whether the central empires or the entente nations won in the war. he argued that the only hope for the russian revolution must be the support of the revolutionary proletariat in the other european countries, particularly those adjacent to russia: "if the revolutionary proletariat of europe fails to support the russian revolution the latter will be ruined. as that support is the only guaranty of the safety of the revolution, we cannot change our policy by discussing the question of how much fraternizing will stimulate the awakening of the proletariat of europe." in other words, kamenev was in the position of a desperate gambler who stakes his life and his all upon one throw of the dice or one spin of the wheel. it was in this manner that the bolshevist leaders conspired to russia's destruction. they were absorbing the time and energies of the men who were really trying to do something, compelling them to engage in numerous futile debates, to the neglect of their vitally important work, debates, moreover, which could have no other effect than to weaken the nation. further, they were actively obstructing the work of the government. thus tseretelli, kerensky, skobelev, and many others whose efforts might have saved the revolution, were thwarted by men wholly without a sense of responsibility. lenine was shrieking for the arrest of capitalists because they were capitalists, when it was obvious that the services of those same capitalists were needed if the nation was to live. later on, when confronted by the realities and responsibilities of government, he availed himself of the special powers and training of the despised capitalists. at this earlier period he was, as tseretelli repeatedly reminded the workers, without any sense of responsibility for the practical results of his propaganda. and that was equally true of the bolsheviki as a whole. they talked about sending "ultimatums" to the allies, while the whole system of national defense was falling to pieces. tseretelli made the only reply it was possible for a sane man to make: "it is proposed that we speak to the allies with ultimatums, but did those who made this silly proposal think that this road might lead to the breaking of diplomatic relations with the allies, and to that very separate peace which is condemned by all factions among us? did lenine think of the actual consequences of his proposal to arrest several dozen capitalists at this time? can the bolsheviki guarantee that their road will lead us to the correct solution of the crisis? no. if they guarantee this they do not know what they are doing and their guaranty is worthless. the bolshevik road can lead us only to one end, civil war." once more the good sense of the working class prevailed. by an overwhelming majority of votes the congress decided to uphold the coalition government and rejected the bolshevik proposals. the resolution adopted declared that "the passing over of all power to the bourgeoisie elements would deal a blow at the revolutionary cause," but that equally the transfer of all power to the soviets would be disastrous to the revolution, and "would greatly weaken her powers by prematurely driving away from her elements which are still capable of serving her, and would threaten the ruin of the revolution." therefore, having heard the explanations of the socialist ministers and having full confidence in them, the congress insisted that the socialist ministers be solely responsible to the "plenipotentiary and representative organ of the whole organized revolutionary democracy of russia, which organ must be composed of the representatives of the all-russian congress of councils of workmen's and soldiers' delegates, as well as of representatives of the all-russian congress of peasants' delegates." but in spite of the fact that the workers upon every opportunity repudiated their policies, the bolsheviki continued their tactics. lenine, trotzky, tshitsherin, zinoviev, and others called upon the workers to stop working and to go out into the streets to demonstrate for peace. the all-russian congress of workmen's and soldiers' delegates issued an appeal to the workers warning them not to heed the call of the bolsheviki, which had been made at the "moment of supreme danger." the appeal said: comrades, in the name of millions of workers, peasants, and soldiers, we tell you, "do not do that which you are called upon to do." at this dangerous moment you are called out into the streets to demand the overthrow of the provisional government, to whom the all-russian congress has just found it necessary to give its support. and those who are calling you cannot but know that out of your peaceful demonstrations bloodshed and chaos may result.... you are being called to a demonstration in favor of the revolution, _but we know that counter-revolutionists want to take advantage of your demonstration ... the counter-revolutionists are eagerly awaiting the moment when strife will develop in the ranks of the revolutionary democracy and enable them to crush the revolution_. x not only in this way were the bolsheviki recklessly attempting to thwart the efforts of the socialist ministers to carry out the mandates of the majority of the working class of russia, but they were equally active in trying to secure the failure of the attempt to restore the army. all through june the bolshevik papers denounced the military offensive. in the ranks of the army itself a persistent campaign against further fighting was carried on. the duma had voted, on june th, for an immediate offensive, and it was approved by the petrograd soviet. the provisional government on that date published a note to the allied governments, requesting a conference with a view to making a restatement of their war aims. these actions were approved by the all-russian congress of workmen's and soldiers' delegates, as was also the expulsion from russia of the swiss socialist, robert grimm, who was a notorious agent of the german government. grimm, as is now well known, was acting under the orders of hoffman, the swiss minister of foreign affairs, and was trying to bring about a separate peace between russia and germany. he was also intimately connected with the infamous "parvus," the trusted social democrat who was a spy and tool of the german government. as always, the great majority of the representatives of the actual working class of russia took the sane course. but the bolsheviki were meanwhile holding mass meetings among the troops, preaching defeatism and surrender and urging the soldiers not to obey the orders of "bourgeois" officers. the provisional government was not blind to the peril of this propaganda, but it dared not attempt to end it by force, conscious that any attempt to do so would provoke revolt which could not be stayed. the bolsheviki, unable to control the workmen's and soldiers' council, sought in every possible manner to weaken its influence and to discredit it. they conspired to overthrow the provisional government. their plot was to bring about an armed revolt on the th of june, when the all-russian congress of soviets would be in session. they planned to arrest the members of the provisional government and assume full power. _at the same time, all the soldiers at the front were to be called on to leave the trenches_. on the eve of the date when it was to be executed this plot was divulged. there was treachery within their own ranks. the bolshevik leaders humbly apologized and promised to abandon their plans. under other conditions the provisional government might have refused to be satisfied with apologies, might have adopted far sterner measures, but it was face to face with the bitter fact that the nation was drunk with the strong wine of freedom. the time had not yet arrived when the masses could be expected to recognize the distinction between liberty within the law and the license that leads always to tyranny. it takes time and experience of freedom to teach the stern lesson that, as rousseau has it, freedom comes by way of self-imposed compulsions to be free. the offensive which kerensky had urged and planned began on july st and its initial success was encouraging. it seemed as though the miracle of the restoration of the russian army had been achieved, despite everything. here was an army whose killed and dead already amounted to more than three million men,[ ] an army which had suffered incredible hardships, again going into battle with songs. on the st of july more than thirty-six thousand prisoners were taken by the russians on the southwestern front. then came the tragic harvest of the bolshevist propaganda. in northeastern galicia the th russian regiment left the trenches and forced other units to do the same thing, opening a clear way for the german advance. regiment after regiment refused to obey orders. officers were brutally murdered by their men. along a front of more than one hundred and fifty miles the russians, greatly superior in numbers, retreated without attempting to fight, while the enemy steadily advanced. this was made possible by the agitation of the bolsheviki, especially by the mutiny which they provoked among the troops in the garrison at petrograd. on the th of july, at the very time when the separatist movement in the ukraine, the resignation of the constitutional democrats from the government, and the revolt and treachery among the troops had produced a grave crisis, seizing the opportunity afforded by the general chaos, the bolsheviki attempted to realize their aim of establishing what they called a "dictatorship of the proletariat," but which was in reality the dictatorship of a small part of the proletariat. there was no pretense that they represented a majority of the proletariat, even. it was a desperate effort to impose the dictatorship of a small minority of the proletariat upon the whole nation. for two days the revolt lasted, more than five hundred men, women, and children being killed in the streets of petrograd. on the th prince lvov resigned as premier. in the mean time the bolshevist uprising had been put down by cossack troops and the leaders were in hiding. kerensky stepped into lvov's position as premier and continued to address himself to the task of bringing order out of the chaos. there could not have been any selfish ambition in this; no place-hunter would have attempted to bear the heavy burden kerensky then assumed, especially with his knowledge of the seriousness of the situation. he knew that the undertaking was practically hopeless, yet he determined never to give up the struggle so long as there was a single thing to be done and his comrades desired him to do it.[ ] there had been created a revolutionary body representing all the organized workers, called the united executive committee of the all-russian councils of workmen's, soldiers' and peasants' delegates, a body of more than three hundred elected representatives of the various soviets. they represented the views of many millions. this body vigorously denounced the bolsheviki and rallied to the support of kerensky and his colleagues. in a manifesto to the people the bolsheviki were charged with responsibility for the blood of all who had been slain in the uprising. on july st a second manifesto was issued by the committee calling upon the workers to uphold the government so long as the authorized representatives of the working class determined that to be the proper course to follow. the charge that lenine, zinoviev, trotzky, and others were acting under german instructions and receiving german money spread until it was upon almost every tongue in petrograd. on july th gregory alexinsky, a well-known socialist, in his paper, _bez lisnih slov_, published a circumstantial story of german intrigue in the ukraine, revealed by one yermolenko, an ensign in the th siberian regiment, who had been sent to russia by the german government. this yermolenko charged that lenine had been instructed by the authorities in berlin, just as he himself had been, and that lenine had been furnished with almost unlimited funds by the german government, the arrangement being that it was to be forwarded through one svendson, at stockholm.[ ] by a vote of to the united executive committee of the all-russian councils of workmen's, soldiers' and peasants' delegates adopted the following resolution: the whole revolutionary democracy desires that the bolsheviki group accused of having organized disorders, or inciting revolt, or of having received money from german sources be tried publicly. in consequence, the executive committee considers it absolutely inadmissible that lenine and zinoviev should escape justice, and demands that the bolsheviki faction immediately and categorically express its censure of the conduct of its leaders. later on, under the "terror," there was some pretense of an "investigation" of the charge that lenine and others had received german money, but there has never been a genuine investigation so far as is known. groups of russian socialists belonging to various parties and groups have asked that a commission of well-known socialists from the leading countries of europe and from the united states, furnished with reliable interpreters, be sent to russia to make a thorough investigation of the charge. the united executive committee of the workers' organizations adopted a resolution demanding that all members and all factions, and the members of all affiliated bodies, obey the mandate of the majority, and that all majority decisions be absolutely obeyed. they took the position--too late, alas!--that the will of the majority must be observed, since the only alternative was the rule of the majority by the aggressive minority. repressive measures against the bolsheviki were adopted by the kerensky cabinet with the full approval of the committee. some of the bolshevik papers were suppressed and the death penalty, which had been abolished at the very beginning of the revolution, was partially restored in that it was ordered that it should be applied to traitors and deserters at the front. lenine and zinoviev were in hiding, but trotzky, kamenev, alexandra kollontay, and many other noted bolsheviki were imprisoned for a few days. it was kerensky's hope that by arranging for an early conference by the allies, at which the war aims would be restated in terms similar to those which president wilson had employed, and by definitely fixing the date for the constituent assembly elections, september th, while sternly repressing the bolsheviki, it might be possible to save russia. but it was too late. despite his almost superhuman efforts, and the loyal support of the great majority of the soviets, he was defeated. day after day conditions at the front grew worse. by the beginning of august practically the whole of galicia was in the hands of the germans. russian soldiers in large numbers retreated before inferior numbers of germans, refusing to strike a blow. germans furnished them with immense quantities of spirits, and an orgy of drunkenness took place. the red flag was borne by debauched and drunken mobs. what a fate for the symbol of universal freedom and human brotherhood! it was a time of terrible strain and upheaval. crisis followed upon crisis. chernov resigned his position as minister of agriculture. kerensky resigned as premier, but the members of the provisional government by unanimous vote declined to accept the resignation. they called a joint meeting of all the cabinet, of leaders of all political parties, of the duma, of the soviets of workers, peasants, and soldiers. at this meeting the whole critical situation was discussed and all present joined in demanding that kerensky continue in office. the political parties represented were the social democrats, the socialist-revolutionists, the democratic radicals, the labor union party, the popular socialists, and the constitutional democrats. from these groups came an appeal which kerensky could not deny. he said: "in view of the evident impossibility of establishing, by means of a compromise between the various political groups, socialist as well as non-socialist, a strong revolutionary government ... i was obliged to resign. friday's conference, ... after a prolonged discussion, resulted in the parties represented at the conference deciding to intrust me with the task of reconstructing the government. considering it impossible for me in the present circumstances, when defeat without and disintegration within are threatening the country, to withdraw from the heavy task which is now intrusted to me, i regard this task as an express order of the country to construct a strong revolutionary government in the shortest possible time and in spite of all the obstacles which might arise." for the second time kerensky was premier at the head of a coalition ministry. no other government was possible for russia except a strong despotism. theorists might debate the advisability of such coalition, but the stern reality was that nothing else was possible. the leader of the peasants, chernov, returned to his old post as minister of agriculture and the constitutional democrats took their share of the burden. there were six parties and groups in the new cabinet, four of them of various shades of socialism and two of them liberal bourgeoisie. never before, perhaps, and certainly only rarely, if ever, have men essayed a heavier or more difficult task than that which this new provisional government undertook. heroically kerensky sought to make successful the efforts of general kornilov, as commander-in-chief, to restore order and discipline in the army, but it was too late. the disintegration had gone too far. the measures which the revolutionary democracy had introduced into the army, in the hope of realizing freedom, had reduced it to a wild mob. officers were butchered by their men; regiment after regiment deserted its post and, in some instances, attempted to make a separate peace with the enemy, even offering to pay indemnities. moreover, the industrial organization of the country had been utterly demoralized. the manufacture of army supplies had fallen off more than per cent., with the result that the state of affairs was worse than in the most corrupt period of the old régime. xi it became evident to the provisional government that something big and dramatic must be done, without waiting for the results of the constituent assembly elections. accordingly, it was decided to call together a great extraordinary council, representing all classes and all parties, to consider the situation and the best means of meeting it. the extraordinary national conference, as it was called, was opened in moscow, on august th, with more than fourteen hundred members in attendance. some of these members--principally those from the soviets--had been elected as delegates, but the others had been invited by the government and could not be said to speak as authorized representatives. there were about one hundred and ninety men who had been members of one or other of the dumas; one hundred representatives of the peasants' soviets and other peasant organizations; about two hundred and thirty representatives of the soviets of industrial workers and of soldiers; more than three hundred from co-operatives; about one hundred and eighty from the trade-unions; about one hundred and fifty from municipalities; one hundred and fifty representatives of banks and industrial concerns, and about one hundred and twenty from the union of zemstvos and towns. it was a conference more thoroughly representative of russia than any that had ever been held. there were, indeed, no representatives of the old régime, and there were few representatives of the bolsheviki. the former had no place in the new russia that was struggling for its existence; the repressive measures that had been found necessary accounted for the scant representation of the latter. it was to this conference that president wilson sent his famous message giving the assurance of "every material and moral assistance" to the people and government of russia. for three days the great assembly debated and listened to speeches from men representing every section of the country, every class, and every party. kerensky, tseretelli, tchcheidze, boublikov, plechanov, kropotkin, breshkovskaya, and others, spoke for the workers; general kornilov and general kaledine spoke for the military command; miliukov, nekrasov, guchkov, maklakov, and others spoke for the bourgeoisie. at times feeling ran high, as might have been expected, but throughout the great gathering there was displayed a remarkable unanimity of feeling and immediate purpose; a common resolve to support the provisional government, to re-establish discipline in the army and navy, to remain loyal to the allies, and reject with scorn all offers of a separate peace, and to work for the success of the constituent assembly. but, notwithstanding the unity upon these immediately vital points, the moscow conference showed that there was still a great gulf between the classes, and that no matter how they might co-operate to meet and overcome the peril that hung over the nation like the sword of damocles, there could be no unity in working out the great economic and social program which must be the basis for the social democratic commonwealth which the workers sought to establish, and which the bourgeois elements feared almost as much as they feared the triumph of germany. in some respects the conference intensified class feeling and added to, instead of lessening, the civil strife. the bolsheviki were not slow to exploit this fact. they pointed to the conference as evidence of a desire on the part of the socialist ministers, and of the officials of the soviets, to compromise with the bourgeoisie. this propaganda had its effect and bolshevism grew in consequence, especially in petrograd. then followed the disastrous military and political events which made it practically impossible for the kerensky government to stand. at the front the soldiers were still revolting, deserting, and retreating. kornilov was quite helpless. germany began a new offensive, and on september d german armies crossed the dvina near riga. on september d riga was surrendered to the germans in the most shameful manner and panic reigned in petrograd. then on the th came the revolt of kornilov against the provisional government and the vulgar quarrel between him and kerensky. kornilov charged that the provisional government, under pressure from the bolsheviki, was playing into the hands of the german general staff. kerensky, backed by the rest of the cabinet, ordered kornilov's removal, while kornilov despatched a division of troops, drawn from the front, against petrograd. it was a most disastrous conflict for which no adequate explanation can be found except in the strained mental condition of all the principal parties concerned. in less strenuous times, and in a calmer atmosphere, the two leaders, equally patriotic, would have found no difficulty in removing misunderstandings. as things were, a mischievous intermediary, and two men suffering the effects of a prolonged and intense nervous strain, provided all the elements of a disaster. kornilov's revolt was crushed without great trouble and with very little bloodshed, kornilov himself being arrested. the soviets stood by the provisional government, for they saw in the revolt the attempt to set up a personal dictatorship. even the bolsheviki were temporarily sobered by the sudden appearance of the "man on horseback." kerensky, by direction of his colleagues, became commander-in-chief of the russian armies. always, it seemed, through every calamity, all parties except the bolsheviki agreed that he was the one man strong enough to undertake the heaviest and hardest tasks. toward the end of september what may be termed the kerensky régime entered upon its last phase. for reasons which have been already set forth, the bolsheviki kept up a bitter attack upon the provisional government, and upon the official leaders of the soviets, on account of the moscow conference. they demanded that the united executive committee of the soviets convoke a new conference. they contended that the moscow conference had been convoked by the government, not by the soviets, and that the united executive committee must act for the latter. the united executive committee complied and summoned a new national democratic conference, which assembled on september th. by this time, as a result of the exhaustion of the patience of many workers, many of the soviets had ceased to exist, while others existed on paper only. according to the _izvestya soveta_, there had been more than eight hundred region organizations at one time, many scores of which had disappeared. according to the same authority, the peasants were drawing away from the workers' and soldiers' soviets. the united executive committee, which had been elected in june, was, of course, dominated by anti-bolsheviki--that is, by menshevik social democrats and by socialist-revolutionists. the democratic conference was not confined to the soviets. it embraced delegates from soviets of peasants, soldiers, and industrial workers; from municipalities, from zemstvos, co-operatives, and other organizations. it differed from the moscow conference principally in that the delegates were elected and that it did not include so many representatives of the capitalist class. the petty bourgeoisie was represented, but not the great capitalists. there were more than a thousand members in attendance at this democratic conference, which was dominated by the most moderate section of the social democrats. the socialist-revolutionists were not very numerous. this conference created another coalition cabinet, the last of the kerensky régime. kerensky continued as premier and as commander-in-chief of the army. there were in the cabinet five social democrats, two socialist-revolutionists, eight constitutional democrats, and two non-partisans. it was therefore as far as its predecessors from meeting the standards insisted upon by many radical socialists, who, while not bolsheviki, still believed that there should be at least an absolute socialist predominance in the provisional government. of course, the new coalition ministry infuriated the bolsheviki. from his hiding-place lenine issued a series of "letters to the comrades," which were published in the _rabochiy put_, in which he urged the necessity of an armed uprising like that of july, only upon a larger scale. in these letters he scoffed at the constituent assembly as a poor thing to satisfy hungry men. meanwhile, trotzky, out of prison again, and other bolshevik leaders were agitating by speeches, proclamations, and newspaper articles for an uprising. the provisional government dared not try to suppress them. its hold upon the people was now too weak. the democratic conference introduced one innovation. it created a preliminary parliament, as the new body came to be known, though its first official title was the provisional council of the republic. this new body was to function as a parliament until the constituent assembly convened, when it would give place to whatever form of parliamentary body the constituent assembly might create. this preliminary parliament and its functions were thus described: this council, in which all classes of the population will be represented, and in which the delegates elected to the democratic conference will also participate, will be given the right of addressing questions to the government and of securing replies to them in a definite period of time, of working out legislative acts and discussing all those questions which will be presented for consideration by the provisional government, as well as those which will arise on its own initiative. resting on the co-operation of such a council, the government, preserving, in accordance with its pledge, the unity of the governmental power created by the revolution, will regard it its duty to consider the great public significance of such a council in all its acts up to the time when the constituent assembly gives full and complete representation to all classes of the population of russia. this preliminary parliament was really another duma--that is, it was a very limited parliamentary body. its life was short and quite uneventful. it assembled for the first time on october th and was dispersed by the bolsheviki on november th. when it assembled there were members--the number fixed by the decree of the provisional government. of these, were bolsheviki, but these withdrew almost at the opening with three others, thus reducing the actual membership of the body to less than five hundred. even with the bolsheviki withdrawn, when kerensky appeared before the preliminary parliament on november th and made his last appeal, a resolution expressing confidence in his government was carried only by a small majority. only about three hundred members were in attendance on this occasion, and of these voted the expression of confidence, while voted against it, and declined to vote at all. the bolsheviki had forced the united executive committee to convene a new all-russian congress of soviets, and the date of its meeting had been fixed at november th. while the elections and arrangements for this congress were proceeding, the bolsheviki were actively and openly organizing an uprising. in their papers and at their meetings they announced that on november th there would be an armed uprising against the government. their intentions were, therefore, thoroughly well known, and it was believed that the government had taken every necessary step to repress any attempt to carry those intentions into practice. it was said that of the delegates to the all-russian congress of soviets-numbering as against more than one thousand at the former congress of peasant soviets alone--a majority were bolsheviki. it was charged that the bolsheviki had intimidated many workers into voting for their candidates; that they had, in some instances, put forward their men as anti-bolsheviki and secured their election by false pretenses; that they had practised fraud in many instances. it was quite certain that a great many soviets had refused to send delegates, and that many thousands of workers, and these all anti-bolsheviki, had simply grown weary and disgusted with the whole struggle. whatever the explanation might be, the fact remained that of the delegates were generally rated as bolsheviki, while were socialist-revolutionists and mensheviki. not all of the socialist-revolutionists could be counted as anti-bolsheviki, moreover. there were fifty-six delegates whose position was not quite clearly defined, but who were regarded as being, if not bolsheviki, at least anti-government. for the first time in the whole struggle the bolsheviki apparently had a majority of delegates in a working-class convention. on the night of the th, a few hours before the opening of the congress of soviets, the bolsheviki struck the blow they had been so carefully planning. they were not met with the resistance they had expected--for reasons which have never been satisfactorily explained. kerensky recognized that it was useless for him to attempt to carry on the fight. the bolsheviki had organized their red guards, and these, directed by military leaders, occupied the principal government buildings, such as the central telephone and telegraph offices, the military-staff barracks, and so on. part of the petrograd garrison joined with the bolsheviki, the other part simply refusing to do anything. on the morning of november th the members of the provisional government were arrested in the winter palace, but kerensky managed to escape. the bolshevik _coup d'état_ was thus accomplished practically without bloodshed. a new government was formed, called the council of people's commissaries, of which nikolai lenine was president and leon trotzky commissioner for foreign affairs. the "dictatorship of the proletariat" was thus begun. kerensky's attempt to rally forces enough to put an end to this dictatorship was a pathetic failure, as it was bound to be. it was like the last fitful flicker with which a great flame dies. the masses wanted peace--for that they would tolerate even a dictatorship. chapter vi the bolshevik war against democracy i the defenders and supporters of the bolsheviki have made much of the fact that there was very little bloodshed connected with the successful bolshevik uprising in petrograd. that ought not to be permitted, however, to obscure the fundamental fact that it was a military _coup d'état_, the triumph of brute force over the will of the vast majority of the people. it was a crime against democracy. that the people were passive, worn out, and distracted, content to wait for the constituent assembly, only makes the bolshevik crime appear the greater. let us consider the facts very briefly. less than three weeks away was the date set for the constituent assembly elections. campaigns for the election of representatives to that great democratic convention were already in progress. it was to be the most democratic constitutional convention that ever existed in any country, its members being elected by the entire population, every man and woman in russia being entitled to vote. the suffrage was equal, direct, universal, and secret. moreover, there was a great democratic reconstruction of the nation actually in progress at the time. the building up of autonomous democratic local governing bodies, in the shape of a new type of zemstvos, was rapidly progressing. the old-time zemstvos had been undemocratic and did not represent the working-people, but the new zemstvos were composed of representatives nominated and elected by universal suffrage, equal, secret, and direct. instead of being very limited in their powers as the old zemstvos were, the new zemstvos were charged with all the ordinary functions of local government. the elections to these bodies served as an admirable practical education in democracy, making it more certain than would otherwise have been the case that the russian people would know how to use their new political instrument so as to secure a constituent assembly fully representing their will and their desire. at the same time active preparations for holding the election of members to the constituent assembly were actually under way. the socialist parties were making special efforts to educate the illiterate voters how to use their ballots correctly. the provisional government, on its part, was pushing the preparations for the elections as rapidly as possible. all over the country special courts were established, in central places, to train the necessary workers so that the elections might be properly conducted. above all, the great problem of the socialization of the land which had been agitated for so many years had now reached the stage at which its solution might almost have been said to be complete. the national soviet of peasants, together with the socialist revolutionary party, had formulated a law on the subject which represented the aspiration and the best thought of the leaders of the peasants' movement. that law had been approved in the council of ministers and was ready for immediate promulgation. peasant leaders like chernov, rakitnikov, vikhiliaev, and maslov had put an immense amount of work into the formulation of this law, which aimed to avoid anarchy, to see to it that instead of an individualistic scramble by the peasants for the land, in small and unorganized holdings, the problem should be scientifically dealt with, lands being justly distributed among the peasant communes, and among the peasants who had been despoiled, and large estates co-operatively organized and managed. all this the bolsheviki knew, for it was common knowledge. there is no truth whatever in the claim set up by many of the apologists for the bolsheviki that they became enraged and resorted to desperate tactics because nothing effective was being done to realize the aims of the revolution, to translate its ideals into fact. quite the contrary is true. _the bolshevik insurrection was precipitated by its leaders precisely because they saw that the provisional government was loyally and intelligently carrying out the program of the revolution, in co-operation with the majority of the working-class organizations and their leaders._ the bolsheviki did not want the ideals of the revolution to be realized, for the very simple reason that they were opposed to those ideals. in all the long struggle from herzen to kerensky the revolutionary movement of russia had stood for political democracy first of all. now, at the moment when political democracy was being realized, the bolsheviki sought to kill it and to set up something else--namely, a dictatorship of a small party of less than two hundred thousand over a nation of one hundred and eighty millions. there can be no dispute as to this aim; it has been stated by lenine with great frankness. "_just as one hundred and fifty thousand lordly landowners under czarism dominated the one hundred and thirty millions of russian peasants, so two hundred thousand members of the bolshevik party are imposing their proletarian will on the mass, but this time in the interest of the latter._"[ ] lenine's figures probably exaggerate the bolshevik numbers, but, assuming them to be accurate, can anybody in his right mind, knowing anything of the history of the russian revolutionary movement, believe that the substitution of a ruling class of one hundred and fifty thousand by one of two hundred thousand, to govern a nation of one hundred and eighty millions, was the end to which so many lives were sacrificed? can any sane and sincere person believe that the class domination described by the great arch-bolshevik himself comes within measurable distance of being as much of a realization of the ideals of the revolution as did the constituent assembly plan with its basis of political democracy, universal, equal, direct, secret, all-determining suffrage? we do not forget lenine's statement that this new domination of the people by a ruling minority differs from the old régime in that the bolsheviki are imposing their will upon the mass "_in the interest of the latter_." what ruling class ever failed to make that claim? was it not the habit of the czars, all of them, during the whole revolutionary epoch, to indulge in the pious cant of proclaiming that they were motived only by their solicitude for the interests and well-being of the peasants? it is a curious illustration of the superficial character of the bolshevist mentality that a man so gifted intellectually as lenine undoubtedly is should advance in justification of his policy a plea so repugnant to morality and intelligence, and that it should be quietly accepted by men and women calling themselves radical revolutionists. some years ago a well-known american capitalist announced with great solemnity that he and men like himself were the agents of providence, charged with managing industry "for the good of the people." naturally, his naïve claim provoked the scornful laughter of every radical in the land. yet, strange as it may seem, whenever i have pointed out to popular audiences that lenine asserted the right of two hundred thousand proletarians to impose their rule upon russia, always, without a single exception, some defender of the bolsheviki--generally a socialist or a member of the i.w.w.--has entered the plea, "yes, but it is for the good of the people!" if the bolsheviki had wanted to see the realization of the ideals of the revolution, they would have found in the conditions existing immediately prior to their insurrection a challenge calling them to the service of the nation, in support of the provisional government and the preliminary parliament. they would have permitted nothing to imperil the success of the program that was so well advanced. as it was, determination to defeat that program was their impelling motive. not only did they fear and oppose _political_ democracy; they were equally opposed to democracy in _industry_, to that democracy in the economic life of the nation which every socialist movement in the world had at all times acknowledged to be its goal. as we shall see, they united to political dictatorship industrial dictatorship. they did not want democracy, but power; they did not want peace, even, as they wanted power. the most painstaking and sympathetic study of the russian revolution will not disclose any great ideal or principle, moral or political, underlying the distinctive bolshevik agitation and program. nothing could well be farther from the truth than the view taken by many amiable people who, while disavowing the actions of the bolsheviki, seek to mitigate the judgment which mankind pronounces against them by the plea that, after all, they are extreme idealists, misguided, of course, but, nevertheless, inspired by a noble ideal; that they are trying, as john brown and many others have tried, to realize a great ideal, but have been made incapable of seeing their ideal in its proper perspective, and, therefore, of making the compromises and adjustments which the transmutation of ideals to reality always requires. no sympathizer with russia--certainly no socialist--can fail to wish that this indulgent criticism were true. its acceptance would lighten the darkest chapter in russian history, and, at the same time, remove from the great international socialist movement a shameful reproach. but the facts are incompatible with such a theory. instead of being fanatical idealists, incapable of compromises and adjustments, the bolsheviki have, from the very beginning, been loudly scornful of rigid and unbending idealism; have made numerous compromises, alliances, and "political deals," and have repeatedly shifted their ground in accordance with political expediency. they have been consistently loyal to no aim save one--the control of power. they have been opportunists of the most extreme type. there is not a single socialist or democratic principle which they have not abandoned when it served, their political ends; not a single instrument, principle, or device of autocratic despotism which they have not used when by so doing they could gain power. for the motto of bolshevism we might well paraphrase the well-known line of horace, and make it read, "get power, honestly, if you can, if not--somehow or other." of course, this judgment applies only to bolshevism as such: to the special and peculiar methods and ideas which distinguish the bolsheviki from their fellow-socialists. it is not to be questioned that as socialists and revolutionists they have been inspired by some of the great ideals common to all socialists everywhere. but they differed from the great mass of russian socialists so fundamentally that they separated themselves from them and became a separate and distinct party. _that which caused this separation is the essence of bolshevism--not the ideals held in common_. no understanding of bolshevism is possible unless this fundamental fact is first fully understood. power, to be gained at any cost, and ruthlessly applied, by the proletarian minority, is the basic principle of bolshevism as a distinct form of revolutionary movement. of course, the bolshevik leaders sought this power for no sordid, self-aggrandizing ends; they are not self-seeking adventurers, as many would have us believe. they are sincerely and profoundly convinced that the goal of social and economic freedom and justice can be more easily attained by their method than by the method of democratic socialism. still, the fact remains that what social ideals they hold are no part of bolshevism. they are socialist ideals. bolshevism is a distinctive method and a program, and its essence is the relentless use of power by the proletariat against the rest of society in the same manner that the bourgeois and military rulers of nations have commonly used it against the proletariat. bolshevism has simply inverted the old czarist régime. the fairness and justice of this judgment are demonstrated by the bolsheviki themselves. they denounced kerensky's government for not holding the elections for the constituent assembly sooner, posing as the champions of the constituante. when they had themselves assumed control of the government they delayed the meeting of the constituent assembly and then suppressed it by force of arms! they denounced kerensky for having restored the death penalty in the army in cases of gross treachery, professing an intense horror of capital punishment as a form of "bourgeois savagery." when they came into power they instituted capital punishment for _civil_ and _political offenses_, establishing public hangings and floggings as a means of impressing the population![ ] they had bitterly assailed kerensky for his "militarism," for trying to build up the army and for urging men to fight. in less critical circumstances they themselves resorted to forced conscription. they condemned kerensky and his colleagues for "interfering with freedom of speech and press." when they came into power they suppressed all non-bolshevist papers and meetings in a manner differing not at all from that of the czar's régime, forcing the other socialist parties and groups to resort to the old pre-revolution "underground" methods. the evidence of all these things, and things even worse than these, is conclusive and unimpeachable. it is contained in the records of the bolshevik government, in its publications, and in the reports of the great socialist parties of russia, officially made to the international socialist bureau. surely the evidence sustains the charge that, whatever else they may or may not be, the bolsheviki are not unbending and uncompromising idealists of the type of john brown and william lloyd garrison, as they are so often represented as being by well-meaning sentimentalists whose indulgence of the bolsheviki is as unlimited as their ignorance concerning them. some day, perhaps, a competent psychologist will attempt the task of explaining the psychology of our fellow-citizens who are so ready to defend the bolsheviki for doing the very things they themselves hate and condemn. in any list of men and women in this country friendly to the bolsheviki it will be found that they are practically all pacifists and anti-conscriptionists, while a great many are non-resistants and conscientious objectors to military service. practically all of them are vigorous defenders of the freedom of the press, of the right of public assemblage and of free speech. with the exception of a few anarchists, they are almost universally strong advocates of radical political democracy. how can high-minded and intelligent men and women--as many of them are--holding such beliefs as these give countenance to the bolsheviki, who bitterly and resolutely oppose all of them? how can they denounce america's adoption of conscription and say that it means that "democracy is dead in america" while, at the same time, hailing the birth of democracy in russia, where conscription is enforced by the bolsheviki? how, again, can they at one and the same time condemn american democracy for its imperfections, as in the matter of suffrage, while upholding and defending the very men who, in russia, deliberately set out to destroy the universal equal suffrage already achieved? how can they demand freedom of the press and of assemblage, even in war-time, and denounce such restrictions as we have had to endure here in america, and at the same time uphold the men responsible for suppressing the press and public assemblages in russia in a manner worse than was attempted by the czar? is there no logical sense in the average radical's mind? or can it be that, after all, the people who make up the bolshevist following, and who are so much given to engaging in protest demonstrations of various kinds, are simply restless, unanchored spirits, for whom the stimulant and excitation of revolt is a necessity? how many are simply victims of subtle neuroses occasioned by sex derangements, by religious chaos, and similar causes? ii the bolshevik rule began as a reign of terror. we must not make the mistake of supposing that it was imposed upon the rest of russia as easily as it was imposed upon petrograd, where conditions were exceptional. in the latter city, with the assistance of the preobrajenski and seminovsky regiments from the garrison, and of detachments of sailors from the baltic fleet, to all of whom most extravagant promises were made, the _coup d'état_ was easily managed with little bloodshed. but in a great many other places the bolshevist rule was effected in no such peaceful fashion, but by means of a bloody terror. here, for example, is the account of the manner in which the counter-revolution of the bolsheviki was accomplished at saratov, as given by a competent eye-witness, a well-known russian socialist whose long and honorable service in the revolutionary movement entitles her to the honor of every friend of free russia--inna rakitnikov:[ ] here ... is how the bolshevist _coup d'état_ took place at saratov. i was witness to these facts myself. saratov is a big university and intellectual center, possessing a great number of schools, libraries, and divers associations designed to elevate the intellectual standard of the population. the zemstvo of saratov was one of the best in russia. the peasant population of this province, among whom the revolutionary socialist propaganda was carried on for several years, by the revolutionary socialist party, is wide awake and well organized. the municipality and the agricultural committees were composed of socialists. the population was actively preparing for the elections to the constituent assembly; the people discussed the list of candidates, studied the candidates' biographies, as well as the programs of the different parties. on the night of october th [november th, european calendar], by reason of an order that had come from petrograd, the bolshevik _coup d'état_ broke out at saratov. the following forces were its instruments: the garrison, which was a stranger to the mass of the population, a weak party of workers, and, in the capacity of leaders, some intellectuals, who, up to that time, had played no rôle in the public life of the town. it was indeed a military _coup d'état. the city hall, where sat the socialists, who were elected by equal, direct, and secret universal suffrage, was surrounded by soldiers; machine-guns were placed in front and the bombardment began. this lasted a whole night; some were wounded, some killed_. the municipal judges were arrested. soon after a manifesto solemnly announced to the population that the "enemies of the people," the "counter-revolutionaries," were overthrown; that the power of saratov was going to pass into the hands of the soviet (bolshevist) of the workmen's and soldiers' delegates. as soon as the overthrow of the existing authorities was effected and the bolsheviki, through their red guards and other means, were in a position to exert their authority, they resorted to every method of oppression and repression known to the old autocratic régime. they suppressed the papers of the socialist parties and groups opposed to them, and in some instances confiscated the plants, turned out the editors, and used the papers themselves. in one of his "letters to the comrades," published in the _rabochiy put_, a few days before the insurrection, lenine had confessed that kerensky had maintained freedom of the press and of assemblage. the passage is worth quoting, not only for the information it contains concerning the kerensky régime, but also because it affords a standard by which to judge the bolsheviki. lenine wrote: the germans have only one liebknecht, no newspapers, no freedom of assemblage, no councils; they are working against the intense hostility of all classes of the population, including the wealthy peasants--with the imperialist bourgeoisie splendidly organized--and yet the germans are making some attempt at agitation; _while we, with tens of papers, with freedom of assemblage, with the majority of the council with us, we, the best situated of all the proletarian internationalists, can we refuse to support the german revolutionists in organizing a revolt?_ that it was not the "german revolutionists" who in november, , wanted the russians to revolt against the kerensky government, but the majority socialists, upon whom lenine had poured his contempt, on the one hand, and the german general staff, on the other hand, is a mere detail. the important thing is that lenine admitted that under the kerensky government the russian workers, including the bolsheviki, were "the best situated of all the proletarian internationalists," and that they had "tens of papers, with freedom of assemblage." in the face of such statements by lenine himself, written a few days before the bolshevik counter-revolution, what becomes of the charge that the suppression of popular liberties under kerensky was one of the main causes of the revolt of the bolsheviki? against the tolerance of kerensky, the arbitrary and despotic methods of the bolsheviki stand out in strong contrast. many non-bolshevist socialist organs were suppressed; papers containing matter displeasing to the bolshevik authorities were suspended, whole issues were confiscated, and editors were imprisoned, precisely as in the days of the czar. it became necessary for the socialist-revolutionists to issue their paper with a different title, and from a different place, every day. here is the testimony of inna rakitnikov again, contained in an official report to the international socialist bureau: all the non-bolshevik newspapers were confiscated or prosecuted and deprived of every means of reaching the provinces; their editors' offices and printing-establishments were looted. after the creation of the "revolutionary tribunal" the authors of articles that were not pleasing to the bolsheviki, as well as the directors of newspapers, were brought to judgment and condemned to make amends or go to prison, etc. the premises of numerous organizations were being constantly pillaged. the red guard came there to search, destroying different documents; frequently objects which were found on the premises disappeared. thus were looted the premises of the central committee of the revolutionary socialist party ( galernaia street) and--several times--the office of the paper _dielo naroda_ ( liteinia street) ... the office of the paper volya naroda, etc.... but the central committee ... continued to issue a daily paper, only changing its title, as in the time of czarism, and thus continued its propaganda.... the _yolya naroda_, referred to by inna rakitnikov, was the official organ of the socialist-revolutionary party. it was raided on several occasions. for example, in january, , the leaders of the party reported that a detachment of bolshevik red guards had broken into the office of the paper, committed various depredations, and made several arrests.[ ] here is another socialist witness: one of the ablest of the leaders of the bohemian socialists in the united states is joseph martinek, the brilliant and scholarly editor of the bohemian socialist weekly, the _delnicke listy_. he has always been identified with the radical section of the movement. a student of russian history, speaking the language fluently, it was his good fortune to spend several weeks in petrograd immediately before and after the bolshevik counter-revolution. he testifies that the "freedom of the press established by kerensky" was "terminated by the bolsheviki."[ ] this is not the testimony of "capitalist newspapers," but of socialists of unquestionable authority and standing. the _dielo naroda_ was a socialist paper, and the volunteer venders of it, who were brutally beaten and shot down by red guards, were socialist working-men.[ ] when oskar tokoi, the well-known revolutionary finnish socialist leader, former prime minister of finland, declares that "freedom of assemblage, association, free speech, and free press is altogether destroyed,"[ ] the bolsheviki and their sympathizers cannot plead that they are the victims of "capitalist misrepresentation." the attitude of the bolshevik leaders toward the freedom of the press has been frankly stated editorially in pravda, their official organ, in the following words: the press is a most dangerous weapon in the hands of our enemies. we will tear it from them, we will reduce it to impotence. it is the moment for us to prepare battle. we will be inflexible in our defense of the rights of the exploited. the struggle will be decisive. we are going to smite the journals with fines, to shut them up, to arrest the editors, and hold them as hostages.[ ] is it any wonder that paul axelrod, who was one of the representatives of russia on the international socialist bureau prior to the outbreak of the war, has been forced to declare that the bolsheviki have "introduced into russia a system worse than czarism, suppressing the constituent assembly and the liberty of the press"?[ ] or that the beloved veteran of the russian revolution, nicholas tchaykovsky, should lament that "the bolshevik usurpation is the continuation of the government by which czarism held the country in an iron grip"?[ ] iii lenine, trotzky, zinoviev, and other bolshevik leaders early found themselves so much at variance with the accepted socialist position that they decided to change their party name. they had been social democrats, a part of the social democratic party of russia. now ever since bronterre o'brien first used the terms "social democrat" and "social democracy," in , their meaning has been pretty well established. a social democrat is one who aims to base government and industry upon democracy. certainly, this cannot be said to be an accurate description of the position of men who believe in the rule of a nation of one hundred and eighty millions by a small party of two hundred thousand or less--or even by an entire class representing not more than six per cent. of the population--and lenine and his friends, recognizing the fact, decided to change the name of their group to the _communist party_, by which name they are now known in russia. lenine frankly admits that it would be a mistake to speak of this party as a party of democracy. he says: the word "democracy" cannot be scientifically applied to the communist party. since march, , the word democracy is simply a shackle fastened upon the revolutionary nation and preventing it from establishing boldly, freely, and regardless of all obstacles a new form of power; the council of workmen's, soldiers' and peasants' deputies, harbinger of the abolition of every form of authority.[ ] the phrase "harbinger of the abolition of every form of authority" would seem to indicate that lenine's ideal is that of the old nihilists--or of anarchists of the bakuninist school. that is very far from the truth. the phrase in question is merely a rhetorical flourish. no man has more caustically criticized and ridiculed the anarchists for their dream of organization without authority than nikolai lenine. moreover, his conception of soviet government provides for a very strong central authority. it is a new kind of state, but a state, nevertheless, and, as we shall discover, far more powerful than the political state with which we are familiar, exercising far greater control over the life of the individual. it is not to be a democratic state, but a very despotic one, a dictatorship by a small but powerful ruling class. it was not the word "democracy" which lenine felt to be a "shackle upon the revolutionary nation," but democracy itself. the manner in which they betrayed the constituent assembly will prove the complete hostility of the bolsheviki to democratic government. in order to excuse and justify the bolsheviki's actions in this regard, their supporters in this country have assiduously circulated two statements. they are, first, that the provisional government purposely and with malicious intent delayed the convocation of the constituent assembly, hoping to stave it off altogether; second, that such a long time had elapsed between the elections and the convocation that when the latter date was reached the delegates no longer represented the true feeling of the electorate. with regard to the first of these statements, which is a repetition of a charge made by trotzky before the bolshevik revolt, it is to be noted that it is offered in justification of the bolshevik _coup d'état_. if the charge made were true, instead of false, as it can easily be shown to be, it would only justify the counter-revolution if the counter-revolution itself were made the instrument for insuring the safety of the constituent assembly. but the bolsheviki _suppressed the constituent assembly_. by what process of reasoning do we reach the result that because the provisional government delayed the convocation of the constituent assembly, which the people desired, a counter-revolutionary movement to _suppress it altogether_, by force of arms, was right and proper? with regard to the second statement, which is a repetition of an argument advanced in russia, it should be sufficient to emphasize a few dates. the bolsheviki seized the power of government on november th and the elections for the constituent assembly took place on november th--nearly three weeks later. the date set by the kerensky government for the opening of the constituent assembly was december th and on that date some forty-odd members put in an appearance. recognizing that they could not begin business until a quorum appeared, these decided to wait until at least a quorum should be present. they did not attempt to do any work. what happened is told in the following passages from a signed statement by members--all socialist-revolutionists.[ ] on the appointed day and hour of the opening of the session of the constituent assembly ... the delegates to the constituent assembly who had arrived in petrograd gathered at the tavrichesky palace. the elected representatives of the people beheld innumerable banners and large crowds surrounding the palace. this was petrograd greeting the representatives of the people. at the doors of the palace the picture changed. there stood armed guards and at the orders of the usurpers, the bolsheviki, they refused to let the delegates pass into the tavrichesky palace. it appeared that, in order to enter the building, the _delegates had first to pay respects to the commissaire, a satellite of lenine and trotzky, and there receive special permission_. the delegates would not submit to that; elected by the people and equipped with formal authorization, they had the right to freely enter any public building assigned for their meeting. the delegates decided to enter the tavrichesky palace without asking the new authorities, and they succeeded in doing so. on the first day the guards did not dare to lift their arms against the people's elected representatives and allowed them to enter the building without molestation. there was no struggle, no violence, no sacrifices; the delegates demanded that the guards respect their rights; they demanded to be admitted, and the guards yielded. in the tavrichesky palace the delegates opened their meeting; v.m. chernov was elected chairman. there were, altogether, about forty delegates present. they realized that there were not enough present to start the work of the constituent assembly. _it was decided that it would be advisable to await the arrival of the other delegates and start the work of the constituent assembly only when a sufficient number were present_. those already there decided to meet daily at the tavrichesky palace in order to count all the delegates as they arrived, and on an appointed day to publicly announce the day and hour of the beginning of the activities of the constituent assembly. when the delegates finished their session and adjourned, the old guards had been dismissed for their submissive attitude toward the delegates and replaced by armed civilian followers of lenine and trotzky. the latter issued an order to disband the delegates, but there were none to be disbanded. the following day the government of the bolsheviki dishonestly and basely slandered the people's representatives in their official announcement which appeared in pravda. that lying newspaper wrote that the representatives of the people had forced their way into the palace, accompanied by junkers and the white guards of the bourgeoisie, that the representatives wanted to take advantage of their small numbers and had begun the work of the constituent assembly. every one knows that this is slanderous as regards the representatives of the people. such lies and slanders were resorted to by the old régime. the aim of the slanders and the lies is clear. _the usurpers do not want the people's representatives to have the supreme power and therefore are preparing to disband the constituent assembly_. on the th of november, in the evening, _having begun to arrest members of the constitutional-democratic party, the bolsheviki violated the inviolability of the constituent assembly. on december d a delegate to the constituent assembly, the socialist-revolutionist, filippovsky, who was elected by the army on the southwestern front, was arrested_. in accordance with their decision reached on november th, the delegates gathered at the tavrichesky palace on november th and th. as on the first day, armed soldiers stood guard at the entrance of the palace and would not let any one pass. the delegates, however, insisted and were finally allowed to enter. on the third day, scenes of brutal violence toward the people's representatives took place at the palace. peasants were the unfortunate victims of this violence. when the delegates had ended their session and all that remained was the affixing of the signatures to the minutes, sailors forced their way into the hall; these were headed by a bolshevik officer, _a former commander of the fortress of st. peter and st. paul_. the commander demanded that the delegates disband. in reply it was stated that the delegates would disband after they had finished their business. then at the order of the commander the sailors took the delegate ilyan, elected by the peasants of the province of tambov, by the arm and dragged him to the exit. after ilyan, the sailors dragged out the peasant delegate from the province of moscow, bikov; then the sailors approached maltzev, a peasant delegate from the province of kostroma. he, however, shouted out that he would rather be shot than to submit to such violence. his courage appealed to the sailors and they stopped. now all the halls in the tavrichesky palace are locked and it is impossible to meet there. the delegates who come to the tavrichesky palace cannot even gather in the lobby, for as soon as a group gathers, the armed hirelings of lenine and trotzky disperse them. thus, in former times, behaved the servants of the czar and the enemies of the people, policemen and gendarmes. this is not the testimony of correspondents of bourgeois journals; it is from a statement prepared at the time and signed by more than a hundred socialists, members of the oldest and largest socialist party in russia, many of them men whose long and honorable service has endeared them to their comrades in all lands. it is not testimony that can be impeached or controverted. it forms part of the report of these well-known and trusted socialists to their comrades in russia and elsewhere. the claim that the elections to the constituent assembly were held on the basis of an obsolete register, before the people had a chance to become acquainted with the bolshevist program, and that so long a time had elapsed since the elections that the delegates could not be regarded as true representatives of the people, was first put forward by the bolsheviki when the constituent assembly was finally convened, on january th. it was an absurd claim for the bolsheviki to make, for one of the very earliest acts of the bolshevik government, after the overthrow of kerensky, was to issue a decree ordering that the elections be held as arranged. by that act they assumed responsibility for the elections, and could not fairly and honorably enter the plea, later on, that the elections were not valid. here is the story of the struggle for the constituent assembly, briefly summarized. the first provisional government issued a manifesto on march , , promising to convoke the constituent assembly "as soon as possible." this promise was repeated by the provisional government when it was reorganized after the resignation of miliukov and guchkov in the middle of may. that the promise was sincere there can be no reasonable doubt, for the provisional government at once set about creating a commission to work out the necessary machinery and was for the election by popular vote of delegates to the constituent assembly. russia was not like a country which had ample electoral machinery already existing; new machinery had to be devised for the purpose. this commission was opened on june , ; its work was undertaken with great earnestness, and completed in a remarkably short time, with the result that on july d the provisional government--kerensky at its head--announced that the elections to the constituent assembly would be held on september th, and the convocation of the assembly itself on the th of december. it was soon found, however, that it would be physically impossible for the local authorities all to be prepared to hold the election on the date set--it was necessary, among other things, to first elect the local authorities which were to arrange for the election of the delegates to the constituent assembly--and so, on august d, kerensky signed the following decree, making _the one and only postponement_ of the constituent assembly, so far as the provisional government was concerned: desiring to assure the convocation of the constituent assembly as soon as possible, the provisional government designated the th of september as election-day, in which case the whole burden of making up the election lists must fall on the municipalities and the newly elected zemstvos. _the enormous labor of holding the elections for the local institution has taken time_. at present, in view of the date of establishment of the local institutions, on the basis decreed by the government--direct, general, equal, and secret suffrage--the provisional government has decided: to set aside as the day for the elections to the constituent assembly the th of november, of the year , and as the date for the convocation of the constituent assembly the th of december, of the year . notwithstanding this clear and honorable record, we find trotzky, at a conference of northern councils of workmen's and soldiers' delegates, on october th, when he well knew that arrangements for holding the constituent assembly elections were in full swing, charging that kerensky was engaged in preventing the convocation of the constituent assembly! he demanded at that time that all power should be taken from the provisional government and transferred to the soviets. these, he said, would convoke the assembly on the date that had been assigned, december th. the bolshevik _coup d'état_ took place, as already noted, less than three weeks before the date set for the elections, for which every preparation had been made by the government and the local authorities. it was at the beginning of the campaign, and the bolsheviki had their own candidates in the field in many places. it was a foregone conclusion that the constituent assembly brought into being by the universal suffrage would be dominated by socialists. there was never the slightest fear that it would be dominated by the bourgeois parties. what followed is best told in the exact language of a protest to the international socialist bureau by inna rakitnikov, representative of the revolutionary socialist party, which was, be it remembered, the largest and the oldest of the russian socialist parties: the _coup d'état_ was followed by various other manifestations of bolshevist activity--arrests, searches, confiscation of newspapers, ban on meetings. bands of soldiers looted the country houses in the suburbs of the city; a school for the children of the people and the buildings of the children's holiday settlement were also pillaged. bands of soldiers were forthwith sent into the country to cause trouble there.... the bands of soldiers who were sent into the country used not only persuasion, but also violence, _trying to force the peasants to give their votes for the bolshevik candidates at the time of the elections to the constituent assembly; they tore up the bulletins of the socialist-revolutionists, overturned the ballot-boxes, etc_.... the inhabitants of the country proved themselves in all that concerned the elections wide awake to the highest degree. there were hardly any abstentions; _ per cent. of the population took part in the voting_. the day of the voting was kept as a solemn feast; the priest said mass; the peasants dressed in their best clothes; they believed that the constituent assembly would give them order, laws, the land. in the government of saratov, out of fourteen deputies elected, there were twelve socialist-revolutionists. there were others (such as the government of pensa, for example) that elected only socialist-revolutionists. the bolsheviki had the majority only in petrograd and moscow and in certain units of the army. to violence and conquest of power by force of arms the population answered by the elections to the constituent assembly, the people sent to this assembly, not the bolsheviki, but, by an overwhelming majority, socialist-revolutionists. of course, this is the testimony of one who is confessedly anti-bolshevist, one who has suffered deep injury at the hands of the bolsheviki of whom she writes. for all that, her testimony cannot be ignored or laughed aside. it has been indorsed by e. roubanovitch, a member of the international socialist bureau, and a man of the highest integrity, in the following words: "i affirm that her sincere and matured testimony cannot be suspected of partizanship or of dogmatic partiality against the bolsheviki." what is more important, however, is that the subsequent conduct of the bolsheviki in all matters relating to the constituent assembly was such as to confirm belief in her statements. no bolshevik spokesman has ever yet challenged the accuracy of the statement that an overwhelming majority of the deputies elected to the constituent assembly were representatives of the revolutionary socialist party. as a matter of fact, the bolsheviki elected less than one-third of the deputies. in the announcement of their withdrawal from the constituent assembly when it assembled in january the bolshevik members admitted that the socialist-revolutionists had "obtained a majority of the constituent assembly." the attitude of the bolsheviki toward the constituent assembly changed as their electoral prospects changed. at first, believing that, as a result of their successful _coup_, they would have the support of the great mass of the peasants and city workers, they were vigorous in their support of the assembly. in the first of their "decrees" after the overthrow of the kerensky cabinet, the bolshevik "commissaries of the people" announced that they were to exercise complete power "until the meeting of the constituent assembly," which was nothing less than a pledge that they would regard the latter body as the supreme, ultimate authority. three days after the revolt lenine, as president of the people's commissaries, published this decree: in the name of the government of the republic, elected by the all-russian congress of councils of workmen's and soldiers' delegates, with the participation of the peasants' delegates, the council of the people's commissaries decrees: . that the elections to the constituent assembly shall be held on november th, the day set aside for this purpose. . all electoral committees, all local organizations, the councils of workmen's, soldiers' and peasants' delegates and the soldiers' organizations at the front are to bend every effort toward safeguarding the freedom of the voters and fair play at the elections to the constituent assembly, which will be held on the appointed date. if this attitude had been maintained throughout, and had the bolsheviki loyally accepted the verdict of the electorate when it was given, there could have been no complaint. but the evidence shows that their early attitude was not maintained. later on, as reports received from the interior of the country showed that the masses were not flocking to their banners, they began to assume a critical attitude toward the constituent assembly. the leaders of the socialist-revolutionary party were warning their followers that the bolsheviki would try to wreck the constituent assembly, for which they were bitterly denounced in organs like _pravda_ and _izvestya_. very soon, however, these bolshevist organs began to discuss the constituent assembly in a very critical spirit. it was possible, they pointed out, that it would have a bourgeois majority, treating the socialist-revolutionists and the cadets as being on the same level, equally servants of the bourgeoisie. then appeared editorials to show that it would not be possible to place the destinies of russia in the hands of such people, even though they were elected by the "unthinking masses." finally, when it was clear that the socialist-revolutionary party had elected a majority of the members, _pravda_ and _izvestya_ took the position that _the victorious people did not need a constituent assembly_; that a new instrument had been created which made the old democratic method obsolete.[ ] the "new instrument" was, of course, the bolshevist soviet. iv for the moment we are not concerned with the merits or the failings of the soviet considered as an instrument of government. we are concerned only with democracy and the relation of the bolshevist method to democracy. from this point of view, then, let us consider the facts. the soviet was not something new, as so many of our american drawing-room champions of bolshevism seem to think. the soviet was the type of organization common to russia. there were soviets of peasants, of soldiers, of teachers, of industrial workers, of officers, of professional men, and so on. every class and every group in the classes had its own soviet. the soviet in its simplest form is a delegate body consisting of representatives of a particular group--a peasants' soviet, for example. another type, more important, roughly corresponds to the central labor union in an american city, in that it is composed of representatives of workers of all kinds. these delegates are, in the main, chosen by the workers in the shops and factories and in the meetings of the unions. the anti-bolshevist socialists, such as the mensheviki and the socialist-revolutionists, were not opposed to soviets as working-class organizations. on the contrary, they approved of them, supported them, and, generally, belonged to them. they were opposed only to the theory that these soviets, recruited in a more or less haphazard manner, as such organizations must necessarily be, were better adapted to the governing of a great country like russia than a legal body which received its mandate in elections based upon universal, equal, direct, and secret suffrage. no one ever pretended that the soviets represented all the workers of russia--including peasants in that term--or even a majority of them. no one ever pretended that the soviet, as such, was a stable and constant factor. new soviets were always springing up and others dying out. many existed only in name, on paper. _there never has been an accurate list of the soviets existing in russia_. many lists have been made, but always by the time they could be tabulated and published there have been many changes. for these and other reasons which will suggest themselves to the mind of any thoughtful reader, many of the leaders of the revolutionary movement in russia have doubted the value of the soviet as a _unit of government, while highly valuing it as a unit of working-class organization and struggle_. back of all the strife between the bolsheviki centered around the soviets and the socialist-revolutionists and mensheviki, centered around the constituent assembly, was a greater fact than any we have been discussing, however. the bolsheviki with their doctrinaire marxism had carried the doctrine of the class struggle to such extreme lengths that they virtually placed the great mass of the peasants with the bourgeoisie. the revolution must be controlled by the proletariat, they argued. the control of the government and of industry by the people, which was the slogan of the old democracy, will not do, for the term "the people" includes bourgeois elements. even if it is narrowed by excluding the great capitalists and landowners, still it embraces the lesser capitalists, small landowners, shopkeepers, and the petty bourgeoisie in general. these elements weaken the militancy of the proletariat. what is needed is the dictatorship of the proletariat. now, only a very small part of the peasantry, the very poor peasants, can be safely linked to the proletariat--and even these must be carefully watched. it was a phase of the old and familiar conflict between agrarian and industrial groups in the socialist movement. it is not very many years since the socialist party of america was convulsed by a similar discussion. could the farmer ever be a genuine and sincere and trustworthy socialist? the question was asked in the party papers in all seriousness, and in one or two state organizations measures were taken to limit the number of farmers entering the party, so that at all times there might be the certainty of a preponderance of proletarian over farmer votes. similar distrust, only upon a much bigger scale, explains the fight for and against the constituent assembly. lenine and his followers distrusted the peasants as a class whose interests were akin to the class of small property-owners. he would only unite with the poor, propertyless peasants. the leaders of the peasantry, on the other hand, supported by the more liberal marxians, would expand the meaning of the term "working class" and embrace within its meaning all the peasants as well as all city workers, most of the professional classes, and so on. we can get some idea of this strife from a criticism which lenine directs against the mensheviki: in its class composition this party is not socialist at all. it does not represent the toiling masses. it represents fairly prosperous peasants and working-men, petty traders, many small and some even fairly large capitalists, and a certain number of real but gullible proletarians who have been caught in the bourgeois net.[ ] it is clear from this criticism that lenine does not believe that a genuine socialist party--and, presumably, therefore, the same must apply to a socialist government--can represent "fairly prosperous peasants and working-men." we now know how to appraise the soviet government. the constitution of russia under the rule of the bolsheviki is required by law to be posted in all public places in russia. in article ii, chapter v, paragraph , of this document it is set forth that "the constitution of the russian socialist federated soviet republic involves, in view of the present transition period, the establishment of a dictatorship of the urban and rural proletariat and the poorest peasantry in the form of a powerful all-russian soviet authority." attention is called to this passage here, not for the sake of pointing out the obvious need for some exact definition of the loose expression, "the poorest peasantry," nor for the sake of any captious criticism, but solely to point out the important fact that lenine only admits a part of the peasantry--the poorest--to share in the dictatorship of the proletariat. turning to another part of the same important document--article iii, chapter vi, section a, paragraph --we find the basis of representation in the all-russian congress of soviets stated. there are representatives of town soviets and representatives of provincial congresses of soviets. the former represent the industrial workers; the latter represent the peasants almost exclusively. it is important, therefore, to note that there is one delegate for every twenty-five thousand city voters and one for every one hundred and twenty-five thousand peasant voters! in section b of the same article, chapter x, paragraph , we find the same discrimination: it takes five peasants' votes to equal the vote of one city voter; it was this general attitude of the bolsheviki toward the peasants, dividing them into classes and treating the great majority of them as petty, rural bourgeoisie, which roused the resentment of the peasants' leaders. they naturally insisted that the peasants constituted a distinct class, co-operating with the proletariat, not to be ruled by it. even marie spiridonova, who at first joined with the bolsheviki, was compelled, later on, to assert this point of view. it is easy to understand the distrust of the bolsheviki by the socialist parties and groups which represented the peasants. the latter class constituted more than per cent. of the population. moreover, it had furnished the great majority of the fighters in the revolutionary movement. its leaders and spokesmen resented the idea that they were to be dictated to and controlled by a minority, which was, as lenine himself admitted, not materially more numerous than the old ruling class of landowners had been. they wanted a democratic governmental system, free from class rule, while the bolsheviki wanted class rule. generalizations are proverbially perilous, and should be very cautiously made and applied to great currents of thought and of life. but in a broad sense we may fairly say that the socialism of the socialist-revolutionists and the mensheviki, the socialism of kerensky and the men who were the majority of the constituent assembly, was the product of russian life and russian economic development, while the socialism that the bolsheviki tried by force of arms to impose upon russia was as un-russian as it could be. the bolshevist conception of socialism had its origin in marxian theory. both marx and engels freely predicted the setting up of "a dictatorship of the proletariat"--the phrase which the bolsheviki have made their own. yet, the bolsheviki are not marxians. their socialism is as little marxian as russian. when marx and engels forecasted the establishment of proletarian dictatorship it was part of their theorem that economic evolution would have reduced practically all the masses to a proletarian state; that industrial and commercial concentration would have reached such a stage of development that there would be on the one side a small class of owners, and, on the other side, the proletariat. there would be, they believed, no middle class. the disappearance of the middle class was, for them and for their followers, a development absolutely certain to take place. they saw the same process going on with the same result in agriculture. it might be less rapid in its progress, but not one whit less certain. it was only as the inevitable climax to this evolution that they believed the "dictatorship of the proletariat" would be achieved. in other words, the proletariat would be composed of the overwhelming majority of the body politic and social. that is very different from the bolshevist attempt to set up the dictatorship of the proletariat in a land where more than per cent, of the people are peasants; where industrial development is behind the rest of the world, and where dictatorship of the proletariat means the domination of more than one hundred and eighty millions of people by two hundred thousand "proletarians and the poorest peasants," according to lenine's statement, or by six per cent. of the population _if we assume the entire proletariat to be united in the dictatorship!_ v at the time of the disturbances which took place in petrograd in december, over the delay in holding the constituent assembly, the bolshevik government announced that the constituante would be permitted to convene on january th, provided that not less than four hundred delegates were in attendance. accordingly, the defenders of the constituent assembly arranged for a great demonstration to take place on that day in honor of the event. it was also intended to be a warning to the bolsheviki not to try to further interfere with the constituante. an earnest but entirely peaceful mass of people paraded with flags and banners and signs containing such inscriptions as "proletarians of all countries, unite!" "land and liberty," "long live the constituent assembly," and many others. they set out from different parts of the city to unite at the field of mars and march to the taurida palace to protest against any interference with the constituent assembly. as they neared the taurida palace they were confronted by red guards, who, without any preliminary warning or any effort at persuasion, fired into the crowd. among the first victims was a member of the executive committee of the soviet of peasants' delegates, the siberian peasant logvinov, part of whose head was shot away by an explosive bullet. another victim was the militant socialist-revolutionist gorbatchevskaia. several students and a number of workmen were also killed. similar massacres occurred at the same time in other parts of the city. other processions wending their way toward the meeting-place were fired into. altogether one hundred persons were either killed or very seriously wounded by the red guards, who said that they had received orders "not to spare the cartridges." similar demonstrations were held in moscow and other cities and were similarly treated by the red guards. in moscow especially the loss of life was great. yet the bolshevist organs passed these tragic events over in complete silence. they did not mention the massacres, nor did they mention the great demonstration at the funeral of the victims, four days later. when the constituent assembly was formally opened, on january th, it was well known on every hand that the bolshevik government would use force to destroy it if the deputies refused to do exactly as they were told. the corridors were filled with armed soldiers and sailors, ready for action. the lenine-trotzky ministry had summoned an extraordinary congress of soviets to meet in petrograd at the same time, and it was well understood that they were determined to erect this soviet congress into the supreme legislative power. if the constituent assembly would consent to this, so much the better, of course. in that case there would be a valuable legal sanction, the sanction of a democratically elected body expressly charged with the task of determining the form and manner of government for free russia. should the constituent assembly not be willing, there was an opportunity for another _coup d'état_. in precisely the same way as the ministry during the last years of czarism would lay before the duma certain documents and demand that they be approved, so the central executive committee of the soviets--the bolshevik power--demanded that the constituent assembly meekly assent to a document prepared for it in advance. it was at once a test and a challenge; if the assembly was willing to accept orders from the soviet authority and content itself with rubber-stamping the decrees of the latter, as ordered, it could be permitted to go on--at least for a time. at the head of the constituent assembly, as president, the deputies elected victor chernov, who had been minister of agriculture under kerensky. at the head of the bolshevik faction was sverdlov, chairman of the executive committee of the soviets. he it was who opened the fight, demanding that the following declaration be adopted by the constituante as the basis of a constitution for russia: declaration of the right's of the toiling and exploited people i . russia is to be declared a republic of the workers', soldiers' and peasants' soviets. all power in the cities and in the country belongs to the soviets. . the russian soviet republic is based on the free federation of free peoples, on the federation of national soviet republics. ii assuming as its duty the destruction of all exploitation of the workers, the complete abolition of the class system of society, and the placing of society upon a socialistic basis, and the ultimate bringing about of victory for socialism in every country, the constituent assembly further decides: . that the socialization of land be realized, private ownership of land be abolished, all the land be proclaimed common property of the people and turned over to the toiling masses without compensation on the basis of equal right to the use of land. all forests, mines, and waters which are of social importance, as well as all living and other forms of property, and all agricultural enterprises, are declared national property. . to confirm the decree of the soviets concerning the inspection of working conditions, the highest department of national economy, which is the first step in achieving the ownership by the soviets of the factories, mines, railroads, and means of production and transportation. . to confirm the decree of the soviets transferring all banks to the ownership of the soviet republic, as one of the steps in the freeing of the toiling masses from the yoke of capitalism. . to enforce general compulsory labor, in order to destroy the class of parasites, and to reorganize the economic life. in order to make the power of the toiling masses secure and to prevent the restoration of the rule of the exploiters, the toiling masses will be armed and a red guard composed of workers and peasants formed, and the exploiting classes shall be disarmed. iii . declaring its firm determination to make society free from the chaos of capitalism and imperialism, which has drenched the country in blood in this most criminal war of all wars, the constituent assembly accepts completely the policy of the soviets, whose duty it is to publish all secret treaties, to organize the most extensive fraternization between the workers and peasants of warring armies, and by revolutionary methods to bring about a democratic peace among the belligerent nations without annexations and indemnities, on the basis of the free self-determination of nations--at any price. . for this purpose the constituent assembly declares its complete separation from the brutal policy of the bourgeoisie, which furthers the well-being of the exploiters in a few selected nations by enslaving hundreds of millions of the toiling peoples of the colonies and the small nations generally. the constituent assembly accepts the policy of the council of people's commissars in giving complete independence to finland, in beginning the withdrawal of troops from persia, and in declaring for armenia the right of self-determination. a blow at international financial capital is the soviet decree which annuls foreign loans made by the governments of the czar, the landowners and the bourgeoisie. the soviet government is to continue firmly on this road until the final victory from the yoke of capitalism is won through international workers' revolt. as the constituent assembly was elected on the basis of lists of candidates nominated before the november revolution, when the people as a whole could not yet rise against their exploiters, and did not know how powerful would be the strength of the exploiters in defending their privileges, and had not yet begun to create a socialist society, the constituent assembly considers it, even from a formal point of view, unjust to oppose the soviet power. the constituent assembly is of the opinion that at this moment, in the decisive hour of the struggle of the people against their exploiters, the exploiters must not have a seat in any government organization or institution. the power completely and without exception belongs to the people and its authorized representatives--the workers', soldiers' and peasants' soviets. supporting the soviet rule and accepting the orders of the council of people's commissars, the constituent assembly acknowledges its duty to outline a form for the reorganization of society. striving at the same time to organize a free and voluntary, and thereby also a complete and strong, union among the toiling classes of all the russian nations, the constituent assembly limits itself to outlining the basis of the federation of russian soviet republics, leaving to the people, to the workers and soldiers, to decide for themselves, in their own soviet meetings, if they are willing, and on what conditions they prefer, to join the federated government and other federations of soviet enterprise. these general principles are to be published without delay, and the official representatives of the soviets are required to read them at the opening of the constituent assembly. the demand for the adoption of this declaration gave rise to a long and stormy debate. the leaders of the socialist-revolutionists and the mensheviki stoutly contended that the adoption of the declaration would be virtually an abdication of the task for which the constituent assembly had been elected by the people, and, therefore, a betrayal of trust. they could not admit the impudent claim that an election held in november, based upon universal suffrage, on lists made up as recently as september, could in january be set aside as being "obsolete" and "unrepresentative." that a majority of the bolshevik candidates put forward had been defeated, nullified, they argued, the claim of the bolsheviki that the fact that the candidates had all been nominated before the november insurrection should be regarded as reason for acknowledging the bolshevik soviet as superior to the constituent assembly. they insisted upon the point, which the bolshevik spokesmen did not attempt to controvert, that the constituent assembly represented the votes of many millions of men and women,[ ] while the total actual membership represented by the soviet power did not at the time number one hundred thousand! as might have been expected, the proposal to adopt the declaration submitted to the constituent assembly in this arrogant fashion was rejected by an enormous majority. the bolshevik members, who had tried to make the session a farce, thereupon withdrew after submitting a statement in which they charged the constituent assembly with being a counter-revolutionary body, and the revolutionary-socialist party with being a traitorous party "directing the fight of the bourgeoisie against the workers' revolution." the statement said that the bolshevik members withdrew "in order to permit the soviet power to determine what relations it would hold with the counter-revolutionary section of the constituent assembly"--a threat which needed no interpretation. after the withdrawal of the bolshevik members, the majority very quickly adopted a declaration which had been carefully prepared by the socialist-revolutionists during the weeks which had elapsed since the elections in the preliminary conferences which had been held for that purpose. the declaration read as follows: russia's form of government in the name of the peoples who compose the russian state, the all-russian constituent assembly proclaims the russian state to be the russian democratic federated republic, uniting indissolubly into one whole the peoples and territories which are sovereign within the limits prescribed by the federal constitution. laws regarding land ownership . _the right to privately own land within the boundaries of the russian republic is hereby abolished forever._ . all land within the boundaries of the russian republic, with all mines, forests, and waters, is hereby declared the property of the nation. . the republic has the right to control all land, with all the mines, forests, and waters thereof, through the central and local administration, in accordance with the regulation provided by the present law. . the autonomous provinces of the russian republic have title to land on the basis of the present law and in accordance with the federal constitution. . the tasks of the central and local governments as regards the use of lands, mines, forests, and waters are: a. the creation of conditions conducive to the best possible utilization of the country's natural resources and the highest possible development of its productive forces. b. the fair distribution of all natural wealth among the people. . the rights of individuals and institutions to land, mines, forests, and waters are restricted merely to utilization by said individuals and institutions. . the use of all mines, forests, land, and waters is free to all citizens of the russian republic, regardless of nationality or creed. this includes all unions of citizens, also governmental and public institutions. . the right to use the land is to be acquired and discontinued on the basis prescribed by this fundamental law. . _all titles to land at present held by the individuals, associations, and institutions are abolished in so far as they contradict this law._ . all land, mines, forests, waters, at present owned by and otherwise in the possession of individuals, associations, and institutions, _are confiscated without compensation for the loss incurred._ democratic peace in the name of the peoples of the russian republic, the all-russian constituent assembly expresses the firm will of the people to _immediately discontinue the war_ and conclude a just and general peace, appeals to the allied countries proposing to define jointly the exact terms of the democratic peace acceptable to all the belligerent nations, in order to present these terms, in behalf of the allies, to the governments fighting against the russian republic and her allies. the constituent assembly firmly believes that the attempts of the peoples of russia to end the disastrous war will meet with a unanimous response on the part of the peoples and the governments of the allied countries, and that by common efforts a speedy peace will be attained, which will safeguard the well-being and dignity of all the belligerent countries. the constituent assembly resolves to elect from its midst an authorized delegation which will carry on negotiations with the representatives of the allied countries and which will present the appeal to jointly formulate terms upon which a speedy termination of the war will be possible, as well as for the purpose of carrying out the decisions of the constituent assembly regarding the question of peace negotiations with the countries fighting against us. this delegation, which is to be under the guidance of the constituent assembly, is to immediately start fulfilling the duties imposed upon it. expressing, in the name of the peoples of russia, its regret that the negotiations with germany, which were started without preliminary agreement with the allied countries, have assumed the character of negotiations for a separate peace, the constituent assembly, in the name of the peoples of the federated republic, _while continuing the armistice, accepts the further carrying on of the negotiations with the countries warring against us_ in order to work toward a general democratic peace which shall be in accordance "with the people's will and protect russia's interests." vi immediately following the dissolution of the constituent assembly a body of red guards shot the two constitutional democrats, kokoshkin and shingariev, who were at the time confined as prisoners who were ill in the naval hospital. the reason for the brutal murder of these men was that they were bourgeoisie and, therefore, enemies of the working class! it is only just to add that the foul deed was immediately condemned by the bolshevik government and by the soviet of petrograd. "the working class will never approve of any outrages upon our prisoners, whatever may have been their political offense against the people and their revolution," the latter body declared, in a resolution on the subject of the assassinations. two days after the dissolution of the constituent assembly twenty-three socialist-revolutionist members of that body, assembled at the office of their party, were arrested, and the premises occupied by red guards, the procedure being exactly as it used to be in the old days under the czar. there is a relentless logic of life and action from which there can be no escape. czarism was a product of that inexorable process. all its oppression and brutality proceeded by an inevitable and irresistible sequence from the first determination and effort to realize the principle of autocracy. any dictatorship, whether of a single man, a group or class, must rest ultimately upon oppressive and coercive force. believing that the means would be justified by the end, lenine and trotzky and their associates had suppressed the constituent assembly, claiming that parliamentary government, based upon the equal and free suffrage of all classes, was, during the transition period, dangerous to the proletariat; that in its stead a new type of government must be established--government by associations of wage-earners, soldiers, and peasants, called soviets. but what if among these there should develop a purpose contrary to the purpose of the bolsheviki? would men who, starting out with a belief in the constituante, and as its champions, used force to destroy and suppress it the moment it became evident that its purpose was not their purpose, hesitate to suppress and destroy any soviet movement which adopted policies contrary to their own? what assurance could there be, once their point of view, their initial principle, was granted, that the freedom denied to the constituante would be assured to the soviets? in the very nature of the case there could be no such assurance. however honest and sincere the bolsheviki themselves might be in their belief that there would be such assurance, there could in fact be none, for the logic of life is stronger than any human will. as was inevitable, the bolsheviki soon found themselves in the position of suppressing soviets which they could not control as freely and in the same manner as they had suppressed the constituent assembly. when, for example, the soldiers of the preobrajenski regiment--the very men who helped the bolsheviki into power--became dissatisfied and organized, publishing their own organ, _the soldier's cloak_, the paper was confiscated and the organization suppressed.[ ] the forcible suppression of soviets was common. the central executive committee of the national soviet of peasants' delegates, together with the old central executive committee of the soviets of workmen's and soldiers' delegates (who had never acknowledged the october elections), convoked an extraordinary assembly of soviets on january th, the same date as that on which the bolshevik congress of soviets was convoked. circumstances compelled the opening to be deferred until two days later, the th. this conference, called the third all-russian congress of peasants' soviets, was suppressed by force, many of the delegates and all the members of the executive committee being arrested. the following extract from a declaration of protest addressed by the outraged peasants to the congress of soviets of workmen, soldiers, and peasants convoked by the bolshevik government tells the story: as soon as the congress was opened, sailors and red guards, armed with guns and hand-grenades, broke into the premises ( kirillovskaia street), surrounded the house, poured into the corridors and the session hall, and ordered all persons to leave. "in whose name do you order us, who are delegates to the peasants' congress of all-russia, to disperse?" asked the peasants. "in the name of the baltic fleet," the sailor's replied. the peasants refused; cries of protest were raised. one by one the peasants ascended the tribune to stigmatize the bolsheviki in speeches full of indignation, and to express the hopes that they placed in the constituent assembly.... this session of the congress presented a strange spectacle: disturbed by men who confessed that they did not know why they were there, the peasants sang revolutionary songs; the sailors, armed with guns and grenades, joined them. then the peasants knelt down to sing a funeral hymn to the memory of logvinov, whose coffin was even yesterday within the room. the soldiers, lowering their guns, knelt down also. the bolshevik authorities became excited; they did not expect such a turn of events. "enough said," declared the chiefs; "we have come not to speak, but to act. if they do not want to go to smolny, let them get out of here." and they set themselves to the task. in groups of five the peasants were conducted down-stairs, trampled upon, and, on their refusal to go to smolny, pushed out of doors during the night in the midst of the enormous city of which they knew nothing. members of the executive committee were arrested,[ ] the premises occupied by sailors and red guards, the objects found therein stolen. the peasants found shelter in the homes of the inhabitants of petrograd, who, indignant, offered them hospitality. a certain number were lodged in the barracks of the preobrajenski regiment. the sailors, who but a few minutes before had sung a funeral hymn to logvinov, and wept when they saw that they had understood nothing, now became the docile executioners of the orders of the bolsheviki. and when they were asked, "why do you do this?" they answered, as in the time, still recent, of czarism: "it is the order. no need to talk."[ ] we do not need to rely upon the testimony of witnesses belonging to the revolutionary socialist party, the mensheviki, or other factions unfriendly to the bolsheviki. however trustworthy such testimony may be, and however well corroborated, we cannot expect it to be convincing to those who pin their faith to the bolsheviki. such people will believe only what the bolsheviki themselves say about bolshevism. it is well, therefore, that we can supplement the testimony already given by equally definite and direct testimony from official bolshevist sources to the same effect. from the official organs of the bolsheviki it can be shown that the bolshevik authorities suppressed soviet after soviet; that when they found that soviets were controlled by socialists who belonged to other factions they dissolved them and ordered new elections, refusing to permit the free choice of the members to be expressed in selecting their officers. the bolsheviki did this, it should be remembered, not merely in cases where mensheviki or socialist-revolutionists were in the majority, but also in cases where the majority consisted of members of the socialist-revolutionary party of the left--the faction which had united with the bolsheviki in suppressing the constituante. their union with the bolsheviki was from the first a compromise, based upon the political opportunism of both sides. the socialist-revolutionists of the left did not believe in the bolshevik theories or program, but they wanted the political assistance of the bolsheviki. the latter did not believe in the theories or program of the socialist-revolutionists of the left, but they wanted their political support. the union could not long endure; the differences were too deeply rooted. before very long the bolsheviki were fighting their former allies and the socialist-revolutionists of the left, like marie spiridonova, for example, were fighting the bolsheviki. at kazan, where lenine went to school, the soviet was dissolved because it was controlled by socialist-revolutionists of the left, former allies, now hostile to the bolsheviki. here are two paragraphs from _izvestya_, one of the bolshevist official organs: kazan, _july th. as the important offices in the soviet were occupied by socialist-revolutionists of the left, the extraordinary commission has dissolved the provisional soviet. the governmental power is now represented by a revolutionary committee. (izvestya, july , .)_ kazan, _august _. the state of mind of the workmen is revolutionary. _if the mensheviki dare to carry on their propaganda, death menaces them. (idem, august .)_ and here is confirmation from another official organ of the bolsheviki, _pravda_: kazan, _august th_. the provisional congress of the soviets of the peasants has been dissolved because of the absence from it of poor peasants and _because its state of mind is obviously counter-revolutionary. (pravda, august , .)_ as early as april, , the soviet at jaroslav was dissolved by the bolshevik authorities and new elections ordered.[ ] in these elections the mensheviki and the socialist-revolutionists everywhere gained an absolute majority.[ ] the population here wanted the constituent assembly and they wanted russia to fight on with the allies. attempts to suppress this majority led to insurrection, which the bolsheviki crushed in the most brutal manner, and when the people, overpowered and helpless, sought to make peace, the bolsheviki only _increased the artillery fire_! here is an "official bulletin," published in _izvestya_, july , : at jaroslav the adversary, gripped in the iron ring of our troops, has tried to enter into negotiations. _the reply has been given under the form of redoubled artillery fire._ _izvestya_ published, on july th, a bolshevist military proclamation addressed to the inhabitants of jaroslav concerning the insurrection which originally arose from the suppression of the soviet and other popular assemblages: the general staff notifies to the population of jaroslav that all those who desire to live are invited to abandon the town in the course of twenty-four hours and to meet near the america bridge. those who remain will be treated as insurgents, _and no quarter will be given to any one_. heavy artillery fire and gas-bombs will be used against them. _all those who remain will perish in the ruins of the town with the insurrectionists, the traitors, and the enemies of the workers' and peasants' revolution._ next day, july th, _izvestya_ published the information that "after minute questionings and full inquiry" a special commission appointed to inquire into the events relating to the insurrection at jaroslav had listed persons as having "taken an active part in the insurrection and had relations with the czecho-slovaks," and that by order of the commissioners the whole band of had been shot! it is needless to multiply the illustrations of brutal oppression--of men and women arrested and imprisoned for no other crime than that of engaging in propaganda in favor of government by universal suffrage; of newspapers confiscated and suppressed; of meetings banned and soviets dissolved because the members' "state of mind" did not please the bolsheviki. maxim gorky declared in his _novya zhizn_ that there had been "ten thousand lynchings." upon what authority gorky--who was inclined to sympathize with the bolsheviki, and who even accepted office under them--based that statement is not known. probably it is an exaggeration. one thing, however, is quite certain, namely, that a reign of terror surpassing the worst days of the old régime was inflicted upon unhappy russia by the bolsheviki. at the very beginning of the bolshevik régime trotzky laughed to scorn all the protests against violence, threatening that resort would be had to the guillotine. speaking to the opponents of the bolshevik policy in the petrograd soviet, he said: "you are perturbed by the mild terror we are applying against our class enemies, but know that not later than a month hence this terror will take a more terrible form on the model of the terror of the great revolutionaries of france. not a fortress, but the guillotine will be for our enemies." that threat was not literally carried out, but there was a near approach to it when public hangings for civil offenses were established. for reintroducing the death penalty into the army as a means of putting an end to treason and the brutal murder of officers by rebellious soldiers, the bolsheviki excoriated kerensky. _yet they themselves introduced hanging and flogging in public for petty civil crimes!_ the death penalty was never inflicted for civil crimes under the late czar. it was never inflicted for political offenses. only rarely was it inflicted for murder. it remained for a so-called "socialist" government to resort to such savagery as we find described in the following extract from the recognized official organ of the bolshevik government: two village robbers were condemned to death. all the people of semenovskaia and the surrounding communes were invited to the ceremony. on july th, at midday, a great crowd of interested spectators arrived at the village of loupia. the organizers of the execution gave to each of the bystanders the opportunity of flogging the condemned to obtain from them supplementary confessions. the number of blows was unlimited. then a vote of the spectators was taken as to the method of execution. the majority was for hanging. in order that the spectacle could be easily seen, the spectators were ranged in three ranks--the first row sat down, the second rested on the knee, and the third stood up.[ ] the bolshevik government created an all-russian extraordinary commission, which in turn created provincial and district extraordinary commissions. these bodies--the local not less than the national--were empowered to make arrests and even decree and carry out capital sentences. there was no appeal from their decisions; they were simply required to _report afterward_! only members of the bolshevik party were immune from this terror. alminsky, a bolshevist writer of note, felt called upon to protest against this hideous travesty of democratic justice, and wrote in _pravda_: the absence of the necessary restraint makes one feel appalled at the "instruction" issued by the all-russian extraordinary commission to "all provincial extraordinary commissions," which says: "the all-russian extraordinary commission is perfectly independent in its work, carrying out house searches, arrests, executions, of which it _afterward_ reports to the council of the people's commissaries and to the central executive council." further, the provincial and district extraordinary commissions "are independent in their activities, and when called upon by the local executive council present a report of their work." in so far as house searches and arrests are concerned, a report made _afterward_ may result in putting right irregularities committed owing to lack of restraint. the same cannot be said of executions.... it can also be seen from the "instruction" that personal safety is to a certain extent guaranteed only to members of the government, of the central council, and of the local executive committees. with the exception of these few persons all members of the local committees of the [bolshevik] party, of the control committees, and of the executive committee of the party may be shot at any time by the decision of any extraordinary commission of a small district town if they happen to be on its territory, and a report of that made _afterward._[ ] vii while in some respects, such as this terrible savagery, bolshevism has out-heroded herod and surpassed the régime of the romanovs in cruel oppression, upon the whole its methods have been very like that of the latter. there is really not much to choose between the ways of stolypin and von plehve and those of the lenine-trotzky rule. the methods employed have been very similar and in not a few instances the same men who acted as the agents of espionage and tyranny for the czar have served the bolsheviki in the same capacity. just as under czarism there was alliance with the black hundreds and with all sorts of corrupt and vicious criminal agents, so we find the same phenomenon recurring under the bolsheviki. the time has not yet arrived for the compilation of the full record of bolshevism in this particular, but enough is known to justify the charge here made. that agents-provocateurs, spies, informers, police agents, and pogrom-makers formerly in the service of the czar have been given positions of trust and honor by lenine and trotzky unfortunately admits of no doubt whatever. it was stated at a meeting of russians held in paris in the summer of that one of the first russian regiments which refused to obey orders to advance "contained former political or civil police agents out of refractory soldiers." during the kerensky régime, at the time when lenine was carrying on his propaganda through _pravda_,[ ] vladimir bourtzev exposed three notorious agents of the old police terror, provocateurs, who were working on the paper. in august, , the jewish conjoint committee in london published a long telegram from the representative of the jewish committee in petrograd, calling attention to the fact that lenine's party was working in tacit agreement with the black hundreds. the telegram is here given in full: extreme russian reactionaries have allied themselves closely with extreme revolutionaries, and black hundreds have entered into tacit coalition with the lenine party. in the army the former agents and detectives of the political police carry on ardent campaign for defeat, and in the rear the former agents-provocateurs prepare and direct endless troubles. the motives of this policy on the part of the reactionaries are clear. it is the direct road to a counter-revolution. the troubles, the insurrections, and shocking disorders which follow provoke disgust at the revolution, while the military defeats prepare the ground for an intervention of the old friend of the russian black hundreds, william ii, the counter-revolutionaries work systematically for the defeat of the russian armies, sometimes openly, cynically. thus in their press and proclamations they go so far as to throw the whole responsibility for the war and for the obstacles placed in the way of a peace with germany on the jews. it is these "diabolical jews," they say, who prevent the conclusion of peace and insist on the continuation of the war, because they desire to ruin russia. proclamations in this sense have been found, together with a voluminous anti-semitic literature, in the offices of the party of lenine bolsheviki (maximalists), and particularly at the headquarters of the extreme revolutionaries, château knheshinskaja. salutations. blank. that the leaders of the bolsheviki, particularly lenine and trotzky, ever entered into any "agreement" with the black hundreds, or took any part in the anti-semitic campaign referred to, is highly improbable. unless and until it is supported by ample evidence of a competent nature, we shall be justified in refusing to believe anything of the sort. it is, however, quite probable that provocateurs worming their way into lenine's and trotzky's good graces tried to use the bolshevik agitation as a cover for their own nefarious work. as we have seen already, lenine had previously been imposed upon by a notorious secret police agent, malinovsky. but the open association of the bolsheviki with men who played a despicable rôle under the old régime is not to be denied. the simple-minded reader of bolshevist literature who believes that the bolshevik government, whatever its failings, has the merit of being a government by real working-men and working-women, needs to be enlightened. not only are lenine and trotzky not of the proletariat themselves, but they have associated with themselves men whose lives have been spent, not as workers, not even as simple bourgeoisie, but as servants of the terror-system of the czar. they have associated with themselves, too, some of the most corrupt criminals in russia. here are a few of them: professor kobozev, of riga, joined the bolsheviki and was active as a delegate to the municipal council of petrograd. according to the information possessed by the russian revolutionary leaders, this professor kobozev used to be a police spy, his special job being to make reports to the police concerning the political opinions and actions of students and faculty members. one of the very first men released from prison by the bolsheviki was one doctor doubrovine, who had been a leader of the black hundreds, an organizer of many pogroms. he became an active bolshevik. kamenev, the bolshevik leader, friend of lenine, is a journalist. he was formerly a member of the old social democratic party. soon after the war broke out he was arrested and behaved so badly that he was censured by his party. early in the revolution of he was accused of serving the secret police at kiev. bonno brouevitch, military councilor to the bolshevik government, was a well-known anti-semite who had been dismissed from his military office on two occasions, once by the czar's government and once by the provisional government. general komisarov, another of lenine's trusted military officials and advisers, was formerly a chief official of the czar's secret police, known for his terrible persecution of the revolutionists. accused of high treason by the provisional government, he fled, but returned and joined the lenine-trotzky forces. prince andronikov, associate of rasputin; (lenine's "my friend, the prince"); orlov, police agent and "denouncer" and secretary of the infamous protopopov; postnikov, convicted and imprisoned as a german spy in ; lepinsky, formerly in the czar's secret police; and gualkine, friend of the unspeakable rasputin, are some of the other men who have been closely identified with the "proletarian régime" of the bolsheviki.[ ] the man they released from prison and placed in the important position of military commander of petrograd was muraviev, who had been chief of the czar's police and was regarded by even the moderate members of the provisional government, both under lvov and kerensky, as a dangerous reactionary.[ ] karl radek, the bohemian, a notorious leader of the russian bolsheviki, who undertook to stir up the german workers and direct the spartacide revolt, was, according to _justice_, expelled from the german social democratic party before the war as a thief and a police spy.[ ] how shall we justify men calling themselves socialists and proletarian revolutionists, who ally themselves with such men as these, but imprison, harry, and abuse such men and women as bourtzev, kropotkin, plechanov, breshkovskaya, tchaykovsky, spiridonova, agounov, larokine, avksentiev, and many other socialists like them? in surveying the fight of the bolsheviki to establish their rule it is impossible to fail to observe that their chief animus has been directed against other socialists, rather than against members of the reactionary parties. that this has been the fact they do not themselves deny. for example, the "people's commissary of justice," g.i. oppokov, better known as "lomov," declared in an interview in january, : "our chief enemies are not the cadets. our most irreconcilable opponents are the moderate socialists. this explains the arrests of socialists and the closing down of socialist newspapers. such measures of repression are, however, only temporary."[ ] and in the soviet at petrograd, july , , according to _pravda_, lachevitch, one of the delegates, said: "the socialist-revolutionists of the right and the mensheviki are more dangerous for the government of the soviets than the bourgeoisie. but these enemies are not yet exterminated and can move about freely. the proletariat must act. we ought, once for all, to rid ourselves of the socialist-revolutionists of the right and of the mensheviki." in this summary of the bolsheviki war against democracy, it will be observed, no attempt has been made to gather all the lurid and fantastic stories which have been published by sensational journalists. the testimony comes from socialist sources of the utmost reliability, much of it from official bolshevist sources. the system of oppression it describes is twin brother to that which existed under the romanovs, to end which hundreds of thousands of the noblest and best of our humankind gave up their lives. under the banner of social democracy a tyranny has been established as infamous as anything in the annals of autocracy. "_o liberty, what monstrous crimes are committed in thy great name!_" chapter vii bolshevist theory and practice i utopia-making is among the easiest and most fascinating of all intellectual occupations. few employments which can be called intellectual are easier than that of devising panaceas for the ills of society, of demonstrating on paper how the rough places of life may be made plain and its crooked ones made straight. and it is not a vain and fruitless waste of effort and of time, as things so easy of achievement often are. many of the noblest minds of all lands and all ages have found pleasure and satisfaction in the imagining of ideal commonwealths and by so doing have rendered great service to mankind, enriching literature and, what is more important, stimulating the urge and passion for improvement and the faith of men in their power to climb to the farthest heights of their dreams. but the material of life is hard and lacks the plastic quality of inspired imagination. though there is probably no single evil which exists for which a solution has not been devised in the wonderful laboratory of visioning, the perversity of the subtle and mysterious thing called life is such that many great and grave evils continue to challenge, perplex, and harass our humankind. yet, notwithstanding the plain lesson of history and experience, the reminder impressed on every page of humanity's record, that between the glow and the glamour of the vision and its actual realization stretches a long, long road, there are many simple-minded souls to whom the vision gleamed is as the goal attained. they do not distinguish between schemes on paper and ideals crystallized into living realities. this type of mind is far more common than is generally recognized; that is why so many people quite seriously believe that the bolsheviki have really established in russia a society which conforms to the generous ideals of social democracy. they have read the rhetorical "decrees" and "proclamations" in which the shibboleths of freedom and democracy abound, and are satisfied. yet it ought to be plainly evident to any intelligent person that, even if the decrees and proclamations were as sound as they are in fact unsound, and as definite as they are in fact vague, they would afford no real basis for judging bolshevism as an actual experiment in social polity. there is, in ultimate analysis, only one test to apply to bolshevism--namely, the test of reality. we must ask what the bolsheviki did, not what they professed; what was the performance, not what was the promise. of course, this does not mean that we are to judge result wholly without regard to aim. admirable intention is still admirable as intention, even when untoward circumstance defeats it and brings deplorable results. bolshevism is not merely a body of belief and speculation. when the bolsheviki seized the government of russia and began to attempt to carry out their ideas, bolshevism became a living movement in a world of reality and subject to the acid test of pragmatic criteria. it must be judged by such a matter-of-fact standard as the extent to which it has enlarged or diminished the happiness, health, comfort, freedom, well-being, satisfaction, and efficiency of the greatest number of individuals. unless the test shows that it has increased the sum of good available for the mass, bolshevism cannot be regarded as a gain. if, on the contrary, the test shows that it has resulted in sensibly diminishing the sum of good available to the greatest number of people, bolshevism must be counted as a move in the wrong direction, as so much effort lost. nothing that can be urged on philosophical or moral grounds for or against the moral or intellectual impulses that prompted it can fundamentally change the verdict. yet, for all that, it is well to examine the theory which inspires the practice; well to know the manner and method of thinking, and the view of life, from which bolshevism as a movement of masses of men and women proceeds. theoretically, bolshevism, as such, has no necessary connection with the philosophy or the program of socialism. certain persons have established a working relation between socialism, a program, and bolshevism, a method. the connection is not inherently logical, but, on the contrary, wholly adventitious. as a matter of fact, bolshevism can only be linked to the program of socialism by violently and disastrously weakening the latter and destroying its fundamental character. we shall do well to remember this; to remember that the method of action, and, back of the method, the philosophy on which it rests and from which it springs, are separate and distinct from socialism. they are incalculably older and they have been associated with vastly different programs. all that is new in bolshevism is that a very old method of action, and a very old philosophy of action, have been seized upon by a new class which attempts to unite them to a new program. that is all that is implied in the "dictatorship of the proletariat." dictatorship by small minorities is not a new political phenomenon. all that is new when the minority attempting to establish its dictatorship is composed of poor, propertyless people, is the fact of their economic condition and status. that is the only difference between the dictatorship of russia by the romanov dynasty and the dictatorship of russia by a small minority of determined, class-conscious working-people. it is not only the precise forms of oppressive power used by them that are identically characteristic of czarism and bolshevism, but their underlying philosophy. both forms of dictatorship rest upon the philosophy of might as the only valid right. militarism, especially as it was developed under prussian leadership, has exactly the same philosophy and aims at the same general result, namely, to establish the domination and control of society by a minority class. the bolsheviki have simply inverted czarism and militarism. what really shocks the majority of people is not, after all, the methods or the philosophy of bolshevism, but the fact that the bolsheviki, belonging to a subject class, have seized upon the methods and philosophy of the most powerful ruling classes and turned them to their own account. there is a class morality and a class psychology the subtle influences of which few perceive as a matter of habit, which, however, to a great extent shape our judgments, our sympathies, and our antipathies. men who never were shocked when a czar, speaking the language of piety and religion, indulged in the most infamous methods and deeds of terror and oppression, are shocked beyond all power of adequate expression when former subjects of that same czar, speaking the language of the religion of democracy and freedom, resort to the same infamous methods of terror and oppression. ii the idea that a revolting proletarian minority might by force impose its rule upon society runs through the history of the modern working class, a note of impatient, desperate, menacing despair. the bolsheviki say that they are marxian socialists; that marx believed in and advocated the setting up, during the transitory period of social revolution, of the "dictatorship of the proletariat." they are not quite honest in this claim, however; they are indulging in verbal tricks. it is true that marx taught that the proletarian dominion of society, as a preliminary to the abolition of all class rule of every kind, must be regarded as certain and inevitable. but it is not honest to claim the sanction of his teaching for the seizure of political power by a small class, consisting of about per cent. of the population, and the imposition by force of its rule upon the majority of the population that is either unwilling or passive. that is the negation of marxian socialism. _it is the essence of marx's teaching that the social revolution must come as a historical necessity when the proletariat itself comprises an overwhelming majority of the people_. let us summarize the theory as it appears in the _communist manifesto_: marx begins by setting forth the fact that class conflict is as old as civilization itself, that history is very largely the record of conflicts between contending social classes. in our epoch, he argues, class conflict is greatly simplified; there is really only one division, that which divides the bourgeoisie and the proletariat: "society as a whole is more and more splitting up into great hostile camps, into two great classes directly facing each other, bourgeoisie and proletariat." ... "with the development of industry the proletariat not only increases in numbers; it becomes concentrated in great masses, its strength grows, and it feels that strength more." ... "the proletarian movement is the _self-conscious, independent movement of the immense majority in the interests of the immense majority_." it is this "immense majority" that is to establish its dominion. marx expressly points out that "all previous historical movements were movements of minorities, or in the interest of minorities." it is the great merit of the movement of the proletariat, as he conceives it, that it is the "movement of the immense majority, in the interests of the immense majority." clearly, when lenine and his followers say that they take their doctrine of the "dictatorship of the proletariat" from marx, they pervert the truth; they take from marx only the phrase, not their fundamental policy. it is not to be denied that there were times when marx himself momentarily lapsed into the error of blanqui and the older school of utopian, conspiratory socialists who believed that they could find a short cut to social democracy; that by a surprise stroke, carefully prepared and daringly executed, a small and desperate minority could overthrow the existing social order and bring about socialism. as jaurès has pointed out,[ ] the mind of marx sometimes harked back to the dramatic side of the french revolution, and was captivated by such episodes as the conspiracy of babeuf and his friends, who in their day, while the proletariat was a small minority, even as it is in russia now, sought to establish its dominion. but it is well known that after the failure of the paris commune, in , marx once and for all abandoned all belief in this form of the "dictatorship of the proletariat," and in the possibility of securing socialism through the conspiratory action of minorities. he was even rather unwilling that the _manifesto_ should be republished after that, except as a purely historical document. it was in that spirit of reaction that he and engels wrote in that passage--to which lenine has given such an unwarranted interpretation--in which they say that the commune had shown that "the working classes cannot simply take possession of the ready-made state machine and set it in motion for their own aims." it was no less an interpreter of marx than his great collaborator and friend, frederick engels, who, in , stated the reasons for abandoning all belief in the possibility of accomplishing anything through political surprises and through the action of small conscious and determined minorities at the head of unconscious masses: history proved that we were wrong--we and those who like us, in , awaited the speedy success of the proletariat. it became perfectly clear _that economic conditions all over the continent were by no means as yet sufficiently matured for superseding the capitalist organization of production_. this was proved by the economic revolution which commenced on the continent of europe after and developed in france, austria-hungary, poland, and, recently, also in russia, and made germany into an industrial state of the first rank--all on a capitalist basis, _which shows that in the prevailing conditions were still capable of expansion_. and to-day we have a huge international army of socialists.... if this mighty proletarian army has not yet reached its goal, if it is destined to gain its ends only in a long drawn out struggle, making headway but slowly, step by step, this only proves how impossible it was in to change social conditions by forcible means ... the time for small minorities to place themselves at the head of the ignorant masses and resort to force in order to bring about revolutions, is gone. _a complete change in the organization of society can be brought about only by the conscious co-operation of the masses_; they must be alive to the aim in view; they must know what they want. the history of the last fifty years has taught us that.[ ] what engels had in mind when he stressed the fact that history showed that in "the prevailing conditions were still capable of expansion" is the central marxian doctrine of historical inevitability. it is surely less than honest to claim the prestige and authority of marx's teachings upon the slender basis of a distorted version of his early thought, while completely ignoring the matured body of his doctrines. it may not matter much to the world to-day what marx thought, or how far lenine follows his teachings, but it is of importance that the claim set up by lenine and trotzky and many of their followers that they are guided by the principles of marxian socialism is itself demonstrably an evidence of moral or intellectual obliquity, which makes them very dangerous guides to follow. it is of importance, too, that the claim they make allures many socialists of trusting and uncritical minds to follow them. many times in his long life marx, together with engels, found himself engaged in a fierce war against the very things lenine and trotzky and their associates have been trying to do. he thundered against weitling, who wanted to have a "daring minority" seize the power of the state and establish its dictatorship by a _coup d'état_. he was denounced as a "reactionary" by willich and kinkel because, in , he rejected with scorn the idea of a sudden seizure of political power through conspiratory action, and had the courage to say that it would take fifty years for the workers "to fit themselves for political power." he opposed lassalle's idea of an armed insurrection in , because he was certain that the economic development had not yet reached the stage which alone could make a social change possible. he fought with all the fierce impetuousness of his nature every attempt of bakunin to lead the workers to attempt the seizure of political power and forcibly establish their rule while still a minority.[ ] he fought all these men because he had become profoundly convinced that "_no social order ever disappears before all the productive forces for which there is room in it have been developed; and new and higher relations of production never appear before the material conditions of their existence have matured in the womb of the old society_."[ ] no "dictatorship of the proletariat," no action by any minority, however well armed or however desperate, can overcome that great law. the "dictatorship of the proletariat" in the sense in which that term is used by the russian bolshevik leaders, and by those who in other countries are urging that their example be followed, is not a policy of marxian socialism. it is not a product of modern conditions. rather it harks back to the earlier conspiratory socialism of blanqui, with its traditions inherited from robespierre and babeuf. so far as its advocates are concerned, marx and the whole modern socialist movement might as well never have existed at all. they take us back three-quarters of a century, to the era before marx, to that past so remote in intellectual and moral character, though recent in point of time, when the working class of no country in europe possessed the right to vote--when the workers were indeed proletarians and not citizens; not only propertyless, but also "without a fatherland." in truth, it is not difficult to understand how this theory has found acceptance in russia. it was not difficult to understand why marx's doctrine of economic evolution was for many years rejected by most russian socialists; why the latter took the view that socialism must be more quickly attained, that capitalism was not a necessary precursor of socialism in russia, but that an intelligent leadership of passive masses would successfully establish socialism on the basis of the old russian communal institutions. it was quite easy to understand the change that came with russia's industrial awakening, how the development of factory production gave an impetus to the marxian theories. and, though it presents a strange paradox, in that it comes at a time when, despite everything, russian capitalism continues to develop, it is really not difficult to understand how and why pre-marxian conceptions reappear in that great land of paradoxes. politically and intellectually the position of the proletariat of russia before the recent revolution was that of the proletariat of france in . but that which baffles the mind of the serious investigator is the readiness of so many presumably intelligent people living in countries where--as in america--wholly different conditions prevail to ignore the differences and be ready to abandon all the democratic advance made by the workers. there is nothing more certain in the whole range of social and political life than the fact that the doctrine that the power of the state must be seized and used by the proletariat against the non-proletarian classes, even for a relatively brief period, _can only be carried out by destroying all the democracy thus far achieved_. iii the validity of the foregoing contention can scarcely be questioned, except by those to whom phrases are of more consequence than facts, who place theories above realities. the moment the bolsheviki tried to translate their rhetorical propaganda for the dictatorship of the proletariat into the concrete terms of political reality they found that they were compelled to direct their main opposition, not against the bourgeoisie, or even against capitalism, but against the newly created democracy. in the movement to create a democratic government resting upon the basis of universal, direct, equal, and secret suffrage they saw a peril to their scheme far more formidable than militarism or capitalism. it was for this reason that they set themselves to the task of suppressing the constituent assembly. only political simpletons will seriously regard the bolshevik attempt to camouflage their motive by pretending that they determined to crush the constituent assembly because its members were elected on a register that was "obsolete" and therefore no longer truly represented the people. the german spartacides, who were acting in full accord with the russian bolsheviki, had not that miserable excuse. yet they set out by force of arms to _prevent any election being held_. in this they were quite consistent; they wanted to set up a dictatorship, and they knew that the overwhelming mass of the people wanted something very different. at a dinner of the inter-collegiate socialist society in new york, in december, , a spokesman for the german variety of bolshevism blandly explained that "karl liebknecht and his comrades know that they cannot hope to get a majority, therefore they are determined that no elections shall be held. they will prevent this by force. after some time, perhaps, when a proletarian régime has existed long enough, and people have become convinced of the superiority of the socialist way, or at least grown used to it, _and it is safe to do so_, popular elections may be permitted." incredible as it seems, this declaration was received with cheers by an audience which only a few minutes before had cheered with equal fervor denunciations of "encroachments upon american democracy." curiously enough, the precise manner in which the bolsheviki have acted against democracy was set forth, as far back as , by a german, johann von miquel, in a letter to karl marx. miquel was born in hanover, but his ancestors were of french origin. he studied at heidelberg and göttingen, and became associated with the socialist movement of the period. he settled down to the practice of law, however, and when hanover was annexed by prussia he entered the prussian parliament. after the "dismissal of the pilot," bismarck, he became prussian minister of finance, holding that position for ten years. liebknecht referred to him as "my former _comrade in communismo_ and present chancellor _in re_." this miquel, while he was still a socialist, in wrote to marx as follows: the workers' party may succeed against the upper middle class and what remains of the feudal element, _but it will be attacked on its flank by the democracy_. we can perhaps give an anti-bourgeois tone to the revolution for a little while, _we can destroy the essential conditions of bourgeois production_; but we cannot possibly put down the small tradesmen and shopkeeping class, the petty bourgeoisie. my motto is to secure all we can get. we should prevent the lower and middle class from _forming any organizations for as long a time as possible_ after the first victory, and especially oppose ourselves in serried ranks to the plan of calling a constitutional assembly. partial terrorism, local anarchy, must replace for us what we lack in bulk. what a remarkable anticipation of the bolshevist methods of - is thus outlined in this letter, written sixty-seven years before the bolshevik _coup d'état!_ how literally lenine, trotzky and co. have followed herr von miquel! they have desperately tried to "give an anti-bourgeois tone to the revolution," denouncing as bourgeois reactionaries the men and women whose labors and sacrifices have made the russian socialist movement. they have destroyed "the essential conditions" of bourgeois and of any other than the most primitive production. they have set themselves in serried ranks in opposition to "the plan of calling a constitutional assembly." they have suppressed not only the organizations of the "lower and middle class," but also those of a great part of the working class, thus going beyond miquel. finally, to replace what they lack in bulk, they have resorted to "partial terrorism and local anarchy." and it is in the name of revolutionary progress, of ultra-radicalism, that we are called upon to revert to the tactics of desperation born of the discouraging conditions of nearly seventy years ago. a new philosophy has taken possession of the easily possessed minds of greenwich village philosophers and parlor revolutionists--a new philosophy of progress, according to which revolutionary progress consists in the unraveling by feverish fingers of the fabric woven through years of sacrifice; in abandoning high levels attained for the lower levels from which the struggles of the past raised us; in harking back to the thoughts and the tactics of men who shouted their despairing, defiant cries into the gloom of the blackest period of the nineteenth century! universal, secret, equal, and direct suffrage was a fact in russia, the first great achievement of the revolution. upon that foundation, and upon no other, it was possible to build an enduring, comprehensive social democracy. against that foundation the bolsheviki hurled their destructive power, creating a discriminating class suffrage, disfranchising a great part of the russian people--not merely the bourgeoisie, but a considerable part of the working class itself. chapter xiii of article of the constitution of the "russian socialist federated soviet republic" sets forth the qualifications for voting, as follows: the right to vote chapter thirteen . the right to vote and to be elected to the soviets is enjoyed by the following citizens, irrespective of religion, nationality, domicile, etc., of the russian socialist federated soviet republic, of both sexes, who shall have completed their eighteenth year by the day of election: a. all who have acquired the means of living through labor that is productive and useful to society, and also persons engaged in housekeeping which enables the former to do productive work--i.e., laborers and employees of all classes who are employed in industry, trade, agriculture, etc.; and peasants and cossack agricultural laborers who employ no help for the purpose of making profits. b. soldiers of the army and navy of the soviets. c. citizens of the two preceding categories who have to any degree lost their capacity to work. note : local soviets may, upon approval of the central power, lower the age standard mentioned herein. note : non-citizens mentioned in paragraph (article , chapter five) have the right to vote. . the following persons enjoy neither the right to vote nor the right to be voted for, even though they belong to one of the categories enumerated above, namely: a. persons who employ hired labor in order to obtain from it an increase in profits. b. persons who have an income without doing any work, such as interest from capital, receipts from property, etc. c. private merchants, trade, and commercial brokers. d. monks and clergy of all denominations. e. employees and agents of the former police, the gendarme corps, and the okhrana (czar's secret service), also members of the former reigning dynasty. f. persons who have in legal form been declared demented or mentally deficient, and also persons under guardianship. g. persons who have been deprived by a soviet of their rights of citizenship because of selfish or dishonorable offenses, for the period fixed by the sentence. apparently the constitution does not provide any standard for determining what labor is "useful and productive to society," and leaves the way open for a degree of arbitrariness on the part of some authority or other that is wholly incompatible with any generally accepted ideal of freedom and democracy. it is apparent from the text of paragraph , subdivision "a" of the foregoing chapter that housekeeping as such is not included in the category of "labor that is productive and useful to society," for a separate category is made of it. the language used is that "the right to vote and to be elected to the soviets is enjoyed by.... all who have acquired the means of living through labor that is productive and useful to society, _and also_ persons engaged in housekeeping, which enables the former to do productive work--_i.e._, laborers and employees of all classes who are employed in industry, trade, agriculture, etc." this _seems_ to mean that persons engaged in housekeeping can only vote if and when they are so engaged in order to enable other persons than themselves to do "productive work." it appears that housekeeping for persons not engaged in such productive work--for children, for example--would not confer the right to vote. it is not possible to tell with certainty what it _does_ mean, however, for there is probably not a single person in russia or in the world who can tell exactly what this precious instrument actually means. what standard is to be established to determine what labor is "productive" and "useful"? is the journalist, for instance, engaged in useful and productive labor? is the novelist? is the agitator? presumably the journalist employed in defending the soviet republic against attacks by unfriendly critics would be doing useful work and be entitled to vote, but what about the journalist employed in making the criticisms? would the wife of the latter, no matter how much she might disagree with her husband's views, be barred from voting, simply because she was "engaged in housekeeping" for one whose labors were not regarded "productive and useful to society"? if the language used means anything at all, apparently she would be so disfranchised. upon what ground is it decided that the "private merchant" may not vote? certainly it is not because his labor is of necessity neither productive nor useful, for paragraph says that even though belonging to one of the categories of persons otherwise qualified to vote, the private merchant may "enjoy neither the right to vote nor to be voted for." the keeper of a little grocery store, even though his income is not greater than that of a mechanic, and despite the fact that his store meets a local need and makes his services, therefore, "useful" in the highest degree, cannot enjoy civic rights, simply because he is a "merchant"! the clergy of all denominations are excluded from the franchise. it does not matter, according to this constitution, that a minister belongs to a church independent of any connection with the state, that he is elected by people who desire his services and is paid by them, that he satisfies them and is therefore doing a "useful service"--if utility means the satisfying of needs--because he is so employed he cannot vote. it is clearly provided that "peasants and cossack agricultural laborers who employ no help for the purpose of making profits" can vote and be voted for. but no persons "who employ hired labor in order to obtain from it an increase in profits" may vote or be elected to office, _even though the work they do is productive and useful to society._ a peasant who hires no assistance may vote, but if he decides that by employing a boy to help him he will be able to give better attention to certain crops and make more money, even though he pays the boy every penny that the service is worth, judged by any standard whatever, he loses his vote and his civic status because, forsooth, he has gained in his net income as a result of his enterprise. and this is seriously put forward as the basis of government in a nation needing an intense and universal stimulation of its economic production. a militant suffragist friend of mine, whose passion for universal suffrage in america is so great that it leads her to join in all sorts of demonstrations protesting against the failure of the united states senate to pass the susan b. anthony amendment--even leading her to join in the public burning of president wilson's speeches, a queer emulation of the ancient ecclesiastical bigotry of burning heretical books!--manages to unite to her passion for equal and unrestricted suffrage an equally passionate admiration for the bolsheviki, arch-enemies of equal and unrestricted suffrage. her case is not exceptional: it is rather typical of the bolshevik following in england and in america. such minds are not governed and directed by rational processes, but by emotional impulses, generally of pathological origin. what the bolshevik constitution would mean if practically applied to american life to-day can be briefly indicated. the following classes would certainly be entitled to vote and to be elected to office: . all wage-earners engaged in the production of goods and utilities regarded by some designated authority as "productive and useful to society." . teachers and educators engaged in the public service. . all farmers owning and working their own farms without hired help of any kind. . all wage-earners engaged in the public service as employees of the state, subdivisions of the state, or public service corporations-such as postal clerks, street-railway workers, electricians, and so on. . wives and others engaged in keeping the homes of the foregoing, so as to enable them to work. . the "soldiers of the army and navy"--whether all officers are included is not clear from the text. now let us see what classes would be as certainly excluded from the right to vote and to be voted for. . every merchant from the keeper of a corner grocery store to the owner of a great mercantile establishment. . every banker, every commission agent, every broker, every insurance agent, every real-estate dealer. . every farmer who hires help of any kind--even a single "hand." . every petty contractor, garage-keeper, or other person employing any hired help whatever, including the professional writer who hires a stenographer, the doctor who hires a chauffeur, and the dentist who hires a mechanic assistant. . every clergyman and minister of the gospel. . every person whose income is derived from inherited wealth or from invested earnings, including all who live upon annuities provided by gift or bequest. . every person engaged in housekeeping for persons included in any of the foregoing six categories--including the wives of such disqualified persons. there are many occupational groups whose civic status is not so easily defined. the worker engaged in making articles of luxury, enjoyed only by the privileged few, could hardly have a better claim to a vote than the housekeeper of a man whose income was derived from foreign investments, or than the chauffeur of a man whose income was derived from government bonds. all three represent, presumably, types of that parasitic labor which subjects those engaged in it to disfranchisement. apparently, though not certainly, then, the following would also be disfranchised: . all lawyers except those engaged by the public authorities for the public service. . all teachers and educators other than those engaged in the public service. . all bankers, managers of industries, commercial travelers, experts, and accountants except those employed in the public service, or whose labor is judged by a competent tribunal to be necessary and useful. . all editors, journalists, authors of books and plays, except as special provision might be provided for individuals. . all persons engaged in occupations which a competent tribunal decided to classify as non-essential or non-productive. any serious attempt to introduce such restrictions and limitations of the right of suffrage in america would provoke irresistible revolt. it would be justly and properly regarded as an attempt to arrest the forward march of the nation and to turn its energies in a backward direction. it would be just as reactionary in the political world as it would be in the industrial world to revert back to hand-tool production; to substitute the ox-team for the railway system, the hand-loom for the power-loom, the flail for the threshing-machine, the sickle for the modern harvesting-machine, the human courier for the electric telegraph. yet we find a radical like mr. max eastman giving his benediction and approval to precisely such a program in russia as a substitute for universal suffrage. we find him quoting with apparent approval an article setting forth lenine's plan, hardly disguised, to disfranchise every farmer who employs even a single hired helper.[ ] lenine's position is quite clear. "only the proletariat leading on the poorest peasants (the semi-proletariat as they are called in our program) ... may undertake the steps toward socialism that have become absolutely unavoidable and non-postponable.... the peasants want to retain their small holdings and to arrive at some place of equal distribution.... so be it. no sensible socialist will quarrel with a pauper peasant on this ground. if the lands are confiscated, _so long as the proletarians rule in the great centers, and all political power is handed over to the proletariat_, the rest will take care of itself."[ ] yet, in spite of lenine's insistence that all political power be "handed over to the proletariat," in spite of a score of similar utterances which might be quoted, and, finally, in spite of the soviet constitution which so obviously excludes from the right to vote a large part of the adult population, an american bolshevist pamphleteer has the effrontery to insult the intelligence of his readers by the stupidly and palpably false statement that "even at the present time per cent. in russia can vote, while in the united states only about per cent. can vote."[ ] of course it is only as a temporary measure that this dictatorship of a class is to be maintained. it is designed only for the period of transition and adjustment. in time the adjustment will be made, all forms of social parasitism and economic exploitation will disappear, and then it will be both possible and natural to revert to democratic government. too simple and naïve to be trusted alone in a world so full of trickery and tricksters as ours are they who find any asurance in this promise. they are surely among the most gullible of our humankind! of course, the answer to the claim is a very simple one: it is that no class gaining privilege and power ever surrenders it until it is compelled to do so. every one who has read the pre-marxian literature dealing with the dictatorship of the proletariat knows how insistent is the demand that the period of dictatorship must be _prolonged as much as possible_. even marx himself insisted, on one occasion at least, that it must be maintained as long as possible,[ ] and in the letter of johann von miquel, already quoted, we find the same thought expressed in the same terms, "as long as possible." but even if we put aside these warnings of human experience and of recorded history, and persuade ourselves that in russia we have a wholly new phenomenon, a class possessing powers of dictatorship animated by a burning passion to relinquish those powers as quickly as possible, is it not still evident that the social adjustments that must be made to reach the stage where, according to the bolshevik standards, political democracy can be introduced, must, under the most favorable circumstances conceivable, take many, many years? even lenine admits that "a sound solution of the problem of increasing the productivity of labor" (which lies at the very heart of the problem we are now discussing) "requires at least (especially after a most distressing and destructive war) several years."[ ] from the point of view of social democracy the basis of the bolshevik state is reactionary and unsound. the true socialist policy is that set forth by wilhelm liebknecht in the following words: "the political power which the social democracy aims at and which it will win, no matter what its enemies may do, _has not for its object the establishment of the dictatorship of the proletariat, but the suppression of the dictatorship of the bourgeoisie_."[ ] iv democracy in government and in industry must characterize any system of society which can be justly called socialist. thirteen years ago i wrote, "socialism without democracy is as impossible as a shadow without light."[ ] that seemed to me then, as it seems to-day, axiomatic. and so the greatest socialist thinkers and leaders always regarded it. "we have perceived that socialism and democracy are inseparable," declared william liebknecht, the well-beloved, in .[ ] thirty years earlier, in , he had given lucid expression to the same conviction in these words: "socialism and democracy are not the same, but they are only different expressions of the same fundamental idea. they belong to each other, round out each other, and can never stand in contradiction to each other. socialism without democracy is pseudo-socialism, just as democracy without socialism is pseudo-democracy."[ ] democracy in industry is, as i have insisted in my writing with unfailing consistency, as inseparable from socialism as democracy in government.[ ] unless industry is brought within the control of democracy and made responsive to the common will, socialism is not attained. everywhere the organized working class aspires to attain that industrial democracy which is the counterpart of political democracy. syndicalism, with all its vagaries, its crude reversal to outworn ideas and methods, is, nevertheless, fundamentally an expression of that yearning. it is the same passion that lies back of the shop stewards' movement in england, and that inspires the much more patiently and carefully developed theories and plans of the advocates of "guild socialism." motived by the same desire, our american labor-unions are demanding, and steadily gaining, an increasing share in the actual direction of industry. joint control by boards composed of representatives of employers, employees, and the general public is, to an ever-increasing extent, determining the conditions of employment, wage standards, work standards, hours of labor, choice and conduct of foremen, and many other matters of vital importance to the wage-earners. that we are still a long way from anything like industrial democracy is all too painfully true and obvious, but it is equally obvious that we are struggling toward the goal, and that there is a serious purpose and intention to realize the ideal. impelled by the inexorable logic of its own existence as a dictatorship, the bolshevik government has had to set itself against any and every manifestation of democracy in industry with the same relentless force as it opposed democracy in government. true, owing to the fact that, following the line of industrial evolution, the trade-union movement was not strongly enough developed to even attempt any organization for the expression of industrial democracy comparable to the constituent assembly. it is equally true, however, that had such an organization existed the necessity to suppress it, as the political organization was suppressed, would have proceeded inevitably and irresistibly from the creation of a dictatorship. _there cannot be, in any country, as co-existent forces, political dictatorship and industrial democracy._ it is also true that such democratic agencies as there were existing the bolsheviki neglected. that the bolsheviki did not establish industrial democracy in its fullest sense is not to be charged to their discredit. had bolshevism never appeared, and had the constituent assembly been permitted to function unmolested and free, it would have taken many years to realize anything like a well-rounded industrial democracy, for which a highly developed industrial system is absolutely essential. the leaders of the bolshevik movement recognized from the first that the time had not yet arrived for even attempting to set up a socialist commonwealth based on the social ownership and democratic control of industry. lenine frankly declared that "socialism cannot now prevail in russia,"[ ] and trotzky said, a month after the _coup d'état_: "we are not ready yet to take over all industry.... for the present, we expect of the earnings of a factory to pay the owner or per cent. yearly on his actual investment. what we aim at now is _control_ rather than _ownership_."[ ] he did not tell professor ross, who records this statement, on what grounds the owner of the property thus controlled by the soviet government, and who thus becomes a partner of the government, is to be excluded from the exercise of the franchise. but let that pass. when the bolsheviki seized the power of the state, they found themselves confronted by a terrific task. russia was utterly demoralized. an undeveloped nation industrially, war and internal strife had wrought havoc with the industrial life she had. her railways were neglected and the whole transportation system, entirely inadequate even for peace needs, had, under the strain of the war, fallen into chaos. after the march revolution, as a natural consequence of the intoxication of the new freedom, such disciplines as had existed were broken down. production fell off in a most alarming manner. during the kerensky régime skobelev, as minister of labor, repeatedly begged the workers to prove their loyalty to the revolution by increased exertion and faithfulness in the workshops and factories. the bolsheviki, on their part, as a means of fighting the provisional government, preached the opposite doctrine, that of sabotage. in every manner possible they encouraged the workers to limit production, to waste time and materials, strike for trivial reasons, and, in short, do all that was possible to defeat the effort to place industry upon a sound basis. when they found themselves in possession of the powers of government the bolshevik leaders soon had to face the stern realities of the conditions essential to the life of a great nation. they could not escape the necessity of intensifying production. they had not only promised peace, but bread, and bread comes only from labor. every serious student of the problem has realized that the first great task of any socialist society must be _to increase the productivity of labor_. it is all very well for a popular propaganda among the masses to promise a great reduction in the hours of labor and, at the same time, a great improvement in the standards of living. the translation of such promises into actual achievements must prove to be an enormous task. to build the better homes, make the better and more abundant clothing, shoes, furniture, and other things required to fulfil the promise, will require a great deal of labor, and such an organization of industry upon a basis of efficiency as no nation has yet developed. if the working class of this or any other country should take possession of the existing organization of production, there would not be enough in the fund now going to the capitalist class to satisfy the requirements of the workers, _even if not a penny of compensation were paid to the expropriated owners_. kautsky, among others, has courageously faced this fact and insisted that "it will be one of the imperative tasks of the social revolution not simply to continue, but to increase production; the victorious proletariat must extend production rapidly if it is to be able to satisfy the enormous demands that will be made upon the new régime."[ ] from the first this problem had to be faced by the bolshevik government. we find lenine insisting that the workers must be inspired with "idealism, self-sacrifice, and persistence" to turn out as large a product as possible; that the productivity of labor must be raised and a high level of industrial performance as the duty of every worker be rigorously insisted upon. it is not enough to have destroyed feudalism and the monarchy: in every socialist revolution, however, the main task of the proletariat, and of the poorest peasantry led by it--and, hence, also in the socialist revolution in russia inaugurated by us on november , , consists in the positive and constructive work of establishing an extremely complex and delicate net of newly organized relationships covering the systematic production and distribution of products which are necessary for the existence of tens of millions of people. the successful realization of such a revolution depends on the original historical creative work of the majority of the population, and first of all of the majority of the toilers. _the victory of the socialist revolution will not be assured unless the proletariat and the poorest peasantry manifest sufficient consciousness, idealism, self-sacrifice, and persistence._ with the creation of a new--the soviet--type of state, offering to the oppressed toiling masses the opportunity to participate actively in the free construction of a new society, we have solved only a small part of the difficult task. _the main difficulty is in the economic domain; to raise the productivity of labor, to establish strict and universal accounting and control of production and distribution, and actually to socialize production._[ ] lenine recognizes, as every thoughtful person must, that this task of organizing production and distribution cannot be undertaken by "the proletariat and the poorest peasants." it requires a vast amount of highly developed technical knowledge and skill, the result of long training and superior education. this kind of service is so highly paid, in comparison with the wages paid to the manual workers, that it lifts those who perform the service and receive the high salaries into the ranks of the bourgeoisie. certainly, even though they are engaged in performing work of the highest value and the most vital consequence, the specialists, experts, and directing managers of industry are not of the "working class," as that term is commonly employed. and no matter how we may speculate upon the possible attainment of approximate equality of income in some future near or remote, the fact is that the labor of such men can only be secured by paying much more than is paid to the manual workers. quite wisely, the bolshevik government decided that it must have such services, no matter that they must be highly paid for; that they could only be rendered by the hated bourgeoisie and that, in consequence, certain compromises and relations with the bourgeoisie became necessary the moment the services were engaged. the bolshevik government recognized the imperative necessity of the service which only highly paid specialists could give and wisely decided that no prejudice or theory must be permitted to block the necessary steps for russia's reconstruction. in a spirit of intelligent opportunism, therefore, they subordinated shibboleths, prejudices, dogmas, and theories to russia's necessity. the sanity of this opportunistic attitude is altogether admirable, but it contrasts strangely with the refusal to co-operate with the bourgeoisie in establishing a stable democratic government--no less necessary for russia's reconstruction and for socialism. as a matter of fact, the very promptitude and sanity of their opportunism when faced by responsibility, serves to demonstrate the truth of the contention made in these pages, that in refusing to co-operate with others in building up a permanently secure democratic government, they were actuated by no high moral principle, but simply by a desire to gain power. the position of russia to-day would have been vastly different if the wisdom manifested in the following paragraphs had governed lenine and his associates in the days when kerensky was trying to save russian democracy: _without the direction of specialists of different branches of knowledge, technique, and experience, the transformation toward socialism is impossible_, for socialism demands a conscious mass movement toward a higher productivity of labor in comparison with capitalism and on the basis which had been attained by capitalism. socialism must accomplish this movement forward in its own way, by its own methods--to make it more definite, by soviet methods. but the specialists are inevitably bourgeois on account of the whole environment of social life which made them specialists.... in view of the considerable delay in accounting and control in general, although we have succeeded in defeating sabotage, we have _not yet_ created an environment which would put at our disposal the bourgeois specialists. many sabotagers are coming into our service, but the best organizers and the biggest specialists can be used by the state either in the old bourgeois way (that is, for a higher salary) or in the new proletarian way (that is, by creating such an environment of universal accounting and control which would inevitably and naturally attract and gain the submission of specialists). we were forced now to make use of the old bourgeois method and agree to a very high remuneration for the services of the biggest of the bourgeois specialists. all those who are acquainted with the facts understand this, but not all give sufficient thought to the significance of such a measure on the part of the proletarian state. _it is clear that the measure is a compromise, that it is a defection from the principles of the paris commune and of any proletarian rule, which demand the reduction of salaries to the standard of remuneration of the average workers_--principles which demand that "career hunting" be fought by deeds, not words. furthermore, it is clear that such a measure is not merely a halt in a certain part and to a certain degree of the offensive against capitalism (for capitalism is not a quantity of money, but a definite social relationship), _but also a step backward by our socialist soviet state_, which has from the very beginning proclaimed and carried on a policy of reducing high salaries to the standard of wages of the average worker. ... the corrupting influence of high salaries is beyond question--both on the soviets ... and on the mass of the workers. but all thinking and honest workers and peasants will agree with us and will admit that we are unable to get rid at once of the evil heritage of capitalism.... the sooner we ourselves, workers and peasants, learn better labor discipline and a higher technique of toil, making use of the bourgeois specialists for this purpose, the sooner we will get rid of the need of paying tribute to these specialists.[ ] we find the same readiness to compromise and to follow the line of least resistance in dealing with the co-operatives. from onward there had been an enormous growth of co-operatives in russia. they were of various kinds and animated by varied degrees of social consciousness. they did not differ materially from the co-operatives of england, belgium, denmark, italy, or germany except in the one important particular that they relied upon bourgeois intellectuals for leadership and direction to a greater extent than do the co-operatives in the countries named. they were admirably fitted to be the nuclei of a socialized system of distribution. out of office the bolsheviki had sneered at these working-class organizations and denounced them as "bourgeois corruptions of the militant proletariat." necessity and responsibility soon forced the adoption of a new attitude toward them. the bolshevik government had to accept the despised co-operatives, and even compromise bolshevist principles as the price of securing their services: a socialist state can come into existence only as a net of production and consumption communes, which keep conscientious accounts of their production and consumption, economize labor, steadily increasing its productivity and thus making it possible to lower the workday to seven, six, or even less hours. anything less than rigorous, universal, thorough accounting and control of grain and of the production of grain, and later also of all other necessary products, will not do. we have inherited from capitalism mass organizations which can facilitate the transition to mass accounting and control of distribution--the consumers' co-operatives. they are developed in russia less than in the more advanced countries, but they comprise more than , , members. the decree on consumers' associations which was recently issued is extremely significant, showing clearly the peculiarity of the position and of the problem of the socialist soviet republic at the present time. the decree is an agreement with the bourgeois co-operatives and with the workmen's co-operatives adhering to the bourgeois standpoint. the agreement or compromise consists, firstly, in the fact that the representatives of these institutions not only participated in the deliberations on this decree, but had practically received a determining voice, for parts of the decree which met determined opposition from these institutions were rejected. secondly and essentially, the compromise consists in the rejection by the soviet authority of the principle of free admission to the co-operatives (the only consistent principle from the proletarian standpoint), and that the whole population of a given locality should be _united in a single co-operative_. the defection from this, the only socialist principle, which is in accord with the problem of doing away with classes, allows the existence of working-class co-operatives (which in this case call themselves working-class co-operatives only because they submit to the class interests of the bourgeoisie). lastly, the proposition of the soviet government completely to exclude the bourgeoisie from the administration of the co-operatives was also considerably weakened, and only owners of capitalistic commercial and industrial enterprises are excluded from the administration. * * * * * if the proletariat, acting through the soviets, should successfully establish accounting and control on a national scale, there would be no need for such compromise. through the food departments of the soviets, through their organs of supply, we would unite the population in one co-operative directed by the proletariat, without the assistance from bourgeois co-operatives, without concessions to the purely bourgeois principle which compels the labor co-operatives to remain side by side with the bourgeois co-operatives instead of wholly subjecting these bourgeois co-operatives, fusing both?[ ] v it is no mood of captious, unfriendly criticism that attention is specially directed to these compromises. only political charlatans, ineffective quacks, and irresponsible soap-box orators see crime against the revolutionary program of the masses in a wise and honest opportunism. history will not condemn the bolsheviki for the give-and-take, compromise-where-necessary policy outlined in the foregoing paragraphs. its condemnation will be directed rather against their failure to act in that spirit from the moment the first provisional government arose. had they joined with the other socialists and established a strong coalition government, predominantly socialist, but including representatives of the most liberal and democratic elements of the bourgeoisie, it would have been possible to bring the problems of labor organization and labor discipline under democratic direction. it would not have been possible to establish complete industrial democracy, fully developed socialism, nor will it be possible to do this for many years to come. but it would have been easy and natural for the state to secure to the workers a degree of economic assurance and protection not otherwise possible. it would have been possible, too, for the workers' organizations, recognized by and co-operating with the state, to have undertaken, in a large degree, the control of the conditions of their own employment which labor organizations everywhere are demanding and gradually gaining. the best features of "guild socialism" could nowhere have been so easily adopted.[ ] but instead of effort in these directions, we find the bolsheviki resorting to the _taylor system of scientific management enforced by an individual dictator whose word is final and absolute, to disobey whom is treason_! there is not a nation in the world with a working-class movement of any strength where it would be possible to introduce the industrial servitude here described: the most conscious vanguard of the russian proletariat has already turned to the problem of increasing labor discipline. for instance, the central committee of the metallurgical union and the central council of the trades unions have begun work on respective measures and drafts of decrees. this work should be supported and advanced by all means. _we should immediately introduce piece work and try it out in practice. we should try out every scientific and progressive suggestion of the taylor system_; we should compare the earnings with the general total of production, or the exploitation results of railroad and water transportation, and so on. the russian is a poor worker in comparison with the workers of the advanced nations, and this could not be otherwise under the régime of the czar and other remnants of feudalism. the last word of capitalism in this respect, the taylor system--as well as all progressive measures of capitalism--combine the refined cruelty of bourgeois exploitation and a number of most valuable scientific attainments in the analysis of mechanical motions during work, in dismissing superfluous and useless motions, in determining the most correct methods of the work, the best systems of accounting and control, etc. the soviet republic must adopt valuable and scientific and technical advance in this field. _the possibility of socialism will be determined by our success in combining the soviet rule and the soviet organization of management with the latest progressive measures of capitalism. we must introduce in russia the study and the teaching of the taylor system and its systematic trial and adaptation_. while working to increase the productivity of labor, we must at the same time take into account the peculiarities of the transition period from capitalism to socialism, which require, on one hand, that we lay the foundation for the socialist organization of emulation, and, on the other hand, _require the use of compulsion so that the slogan of the dictatorship of the proletariat should not be weakened by the practice of a too mild proletarian government_. the resolution of the last (moscow) congress of the soviets advocates, as the most important problem at present, the creation of "efficient organization" and higher discipline. such resolutions are now readily supported by everybody. but that their realization requires compulsion, and _compulsion in the form of a dictatorship_, is ordinarily not comprehended. and yet, it would be the greatest stupidity and the most absurd opportunism to suppose that the transition from capitalism to socialism is possible without compulsion and dictatorship. the marxian theory has long ago criticized beyond misunderstanding this petty bourgeois-democratic and anarchistic nonsense. and russia of - confirms in this respect the marxian theory so clearly, palpably, and convincingly that only those who are hopelessly stupid or who have firmly determined to ignore the truth can still err in this respect. either a kornilov dictatorship (if kornilov be taken as russian type of a bourgeois cavaignac) or a dictatorship of the proletariat--no other alternative is possible for a country which is passing through an unusually swift development with unusually difficult transitions and which suffers from desperate disorganization created by the most horrible war.[ ] this dictatorship is to be no light affair, no purely nominal force, but a relentless iron-hand rule. lenine is afraid that the proletariat is too soft-hearted and lenient. he says: but "dictatorship" is a great word. and great words must not be used in vain. a dictatorship is an iron rule, with revolutionary daring and swift and merciless in the suppression of the exploiters as well as of the thugs (hooligans). and our rule is too mild, quite frequently resembling jam rather than iron.[ ] and so the dictatorship of the proletariat becomes the _dictatorship of a single person_, a super-boss and industrial autocrat: we must learn to combine the stormy, energetic breaking of all restraint on the part of the toiling masses _with iron discipline during work, with absolute submission to the will of one person, the soviet director, during work_.[ ] as i copy these words from lenine's book my memory recalls the days, more than twenty years ago, when as a workman in england and as shop steward of my union i joined with my comrades in breaking down the very things lenine here proposes to set up in the name of socialism. "absolute submission to the will of one person" is not a state toward which free men will strive. not willingly will men who enjoy the degree of personal freedom existing in democratic nations turn to this: with respect to ... the significance of individual dictatorial power from the standpoint of the specific problems of the present period, we must say that every large machine industry--which is the material productive source and basis of socialism--requires an absolute and strict unity of the will which directs the joint work of hundreds, thousands, and tens of thousands of people. this necessity is obvious from the technical, economical, and historical standpoint, and has always been recognized by all those who had given any thought to socialism, as its prerequisite. but how can we secure a strict unity of will? _by subjecting the will of thousands_ to the will of one. this subjection, _if the participants in the common work are ideally conscious and disciplined_, may resemble the mild leading of an orchestra conductor; but may take the acute form of a dictatorship--if there is no ideal discipline and consciousness. but at any rate, _complete submission to a single will is absolutely necessary for the success of the processes of work which is organized on the type of large machine industry_. this is doubly true of the railways. and just this transition from one political problem to another, which in appearance has no resemblance to the first, constitutes the peculiarity of the present period. the revolution has just broken the oldest, the strongest, and the heaviest chains to which the masses were compelled to submit. so it was yesterday. and to-day, the same revolution (and indeed in the interest of socialism) demands the _absolute submission_ of the masses to the _single will_ of those who direct the labor process. it is self-evident that it can be realized only after great upheavals, crises, returns to the old; only through the greatest strain of the energy of the proletarian vanguard which is leading the people to the new order.... to the extent to which the principal problem of the soviet rule changes from military suppression to administration, suppression and compulsion will, _as a rule, be manifested in trials, and not in shooting on the spot_. and in this respect the revolutionary masses have taken, after november , , the right road and have proved the vitality of the revolution, when they started to organize their own workmen's and peasants' tribunals, before any decrees were issued dismissing the bourgeois-democratic judicial apparatus. _but our revolutionary and popular tribunals are excessively and incredibly weak. it is apparent that the popular view of the courts--which was inherited from the régime of the landowners and the bourgeoisie--as not their own, has not yet been completely destroyed_. it is not sufficiently appreciated that the courts serve to attract all the poor to administration (for judicial activity is one of the functions of state administration); that the court is _an organ of the rule of the proletariat and of the poorest peasantry; that the court is a means of training in discipline_. there is a lack of appreciation of the simple and obvious fact that, if the chief misfortunes of russia are famine and unemployment, these misfortunes cannot be overcome by any outbursts of enthusiasm, but only by thorough and universal organization and discipline, in order to increase the production of bread for men and fuel for industry, to transport it in time, and to distribute it in the right way. that therefore _responsibility_ for the pangs of famine and unemployment falls on _every one who violates the labor discipline in any enterprise and in any business_. that those who are responsible should be discovered, tried, and _punished without mercy_. the petty bourgeois environment, which we will have to combat persistently now, shows particularly in the lack of comprehension of the economic and political connection between famine and unemployment and the _prevailing dissoluteness in organization and discipline_--in the firm hold of the view of the small proprietor that "nothing matters, if only i gain as much as possible." a characteristic struggle occurred on this basis in connection with the last decree on railway management, the decree which granted dictatorial (or "unlimited") power to individual directors. the conscious (and mostly, probably, unconscious) representatives of petty bourgeois dissoluteness contended that the granting of "unlimited" (_i.e._, dictatorial) power to individuals was a defection from the principle of board administration, from the democratic and other principles of the soviet rule. some of the socialist-revolutionists of the left wing carried on a plainly demagogic agitation against the decree on dictatorship, appealing to the evil instincts and to the petty bourgeois desire for personal gain. the question thus presented is of really great significance; firstly, the question of principle is, in general, the appointment of individuals endowed with unlimited power, the appointment of dictators, in accord with the fundamental principles of the soviet rule; secondly, in what relation is this case--this precedent, if you wish--to the special problems of the soviet rule during the present concrete period? both questions deserve serious consideration.[ ] with characteristic ingenuity lenine attempts to provide this dictatorship with a theoretical basis which will pass muster as marxian socialism. he uses the term "soviet democracy" as a synonym for democratic socialism and says there is "absolutely no contradiction in principle" between it and "the use of dictatorial power of individuals." by what violence to reason and to language is the word _democracy_ applied to the system described by lenine? to use words with such scant respect to their meanings, established by etymology, history, and universal agreement in usage, is to invite and indeed compel the contempt of minds disciplined by reason's practices. as for the claim that there is no contradiction in principle between democratic socialism and the exercise of dictatorial power by individuals, before it can be accepted every socialist teacher and leader of any standing anywhere, the programs of all the socialist parties, and their practice, must be denied and set aside. whether democratic socialism be wise or unwise, a practical possibility or an unrealizable idea, at least it has nothing in common with such reactionary views as are expressed in the following: that the dictatorship of individuals has very frequently in the history of revolutionary movements served as an expression and means of realization of the dictatorship of the revolutionary classes is confirmed by the undisputed experience of history. with bourgeois democratic principles, the dictatorship of individuals has undoubtedly been compatible. but this point is always treated adroitly by the bourgeois critics of the soviet rule and by their petty bourgeois aides. on one hand, they declared the soviet rule simply something absurd and anarchically wild, carefully avoiding all our historical comparisons and theoretical proofs that the soviets are a higher form of democracy; nay, more, the beginning of a _socialist_ form of democracy. on the other hand, they demand of us a higher democracy than the bourgeois and argue: with your bolshevist (_i.e._, socialist, not bourgeois) democratic principles, with the soviet democratic principles, individual dictatorship is absolutely incompatible. extremely poor arguments, these. if we are not anarchists, we must admit the necessity of a state--that is, of _compulsion_, for the transition from capitalism to socialism. the form of compulsion is determined by the degree of development of the particular revolutionary class, then by such special circumstances as, for instance, the heritage of a long and reactionary war, and then by the forms of resistance of the bourgeoisie and the petty bourgeoisie. _there is therefore absolutely no contradiction in principle between the soviet (socialist) democracy and the use of dictatorial power of individuals_. the distinction between a proletarian and a bourgeois dictatorship consists in this: that the first directs its attacks against the exploiting minority in the interests of the exploited majority; and, further, in this, that the first is accomplished (also through individuals) not only by the masses of the exploited toilers, but also by the organizations which are so constructed that they arouse these masses to historical creative work (the soviets belong to this kind of organization).[ ] this, then, is bolshevism, not as it is seen and described by unfriendly "bourgeois" writers, but as it is seen and described by the acknowledged intellectual and political leader of the bolsheviki, nikolai lenine. i have not taken any non-bolshevist authority; i have not even restated his views in a summary of my own, lest into the summary might be injected some reflexes of my own critical thought. bolshevism is revealed in all its reactionary repulsiveness as something between which and absolute, individual dictatorial power there is "absolutely no contradiction in principle." it will not avail for our american followers and admirers of the bolsheviki to plead that these things are temporary, compromises with the ideal due to the extraordinary circumstances prevailing in russia, and to beg a mitigation of the severity of our judgment on that account. the answer to the plea is twofold: in the first place, they who offer it must, if they are sincere, abandon the savagely critical attitude they have seen fit to adopt toward our own government and nation because with "extraordinary conditions prevailing" we have had introduced conscription, unusual restrictions of movement and of utterance, and so forth. how else, indeed, can their sincerity be demonstrated? if the fact that extraordinary conditions justified lenine and his associates in instituting a régime so tyrannical, what rule of reason or of morals must be invoked to refuse to count the extraordinary conditions produced in our own nation by the war as justification for the special measures of military service and discipline here introduced? but there is a second answer to the claim which is more direct and conclusive. it is not open to argument at all. it is found in the words of lenine himself, in his claim that there is absolutely no contradiction between the principle of individual dictatorship, ruling with iron hand, and the principle upon which soviet government rests. there has been no compromise here, for if there is no contradiction in principle no compromise could have been required. lenine is not afraid to make or to admit making compromises; he admits that compromises have been made. it was a compromise to employ highly salaried specialists from the bourgeoisie, "a defection from the principles of the paris commune and of any proletarian rule," as he says. it was a compromise, another "defection from the only socialist principle," to admit the right of the co-operatives to determine their own conditions of membership. having made these declarations quite candidly, he takes pains to assure us that there was no such defection from principle in establishing the absolute rule of an individual dictator, that there was absolutely no contradiction in principle in this.[ ] moreover, there is no reason for regarding this dictatorship as a temporary thing, if lenine himself is to be accepted as an authoritative spokesman. obviously, if there is nothing in the principle of an absolute individual dictatorship which is in contradiction to the bolshevik ideal, there can be no bolshevik principle which necessarily requires for its realization the ending of such dictatorship. why, therefore, may it not be continued indefinitely? certainly, if the dictatorship is abolished it will not be--if lenine is to be seriously considered--on account of its incompatibility with bolshevik principles. vi the bolshevik government of russia is credited by many of its admirers in this country with having solved the great land problem and with having satisfied the land-hunger of the peasants. it is charged, moreover, that the bitter opposition to the bolsheviki is mainly due to agitation by the bourgeoisie, led by the expropriated landowners, who want to defeat the revolution and to have their former titles to the land restored. of course, it is true that, so far as they dare to do so, the former landowners actively oppose the bolsheviki. no expropriated class ever acted otherwise, and it would be foolish to expect anything else. but any person who believes that the opposition of the great peasant socialist organizations, and especially of the socialist-revolutionists, is due to the confiscation of the land, either consciously or unconsciously, is capable of believing anything and quite immune from rationality. the facts in the case are, briefly, as follows: first, as professor ross has pointed out,[ ] the land policy of the bolshevik government was a compromise of the principles long advocated by its leaders, a compromise made for political reasons only. second, as marie spiridonova abundantly demonstrated at an all-russian soviet conference in july, , the bolshevik government did not honorably live up to its agreement with the socialist-revolutionists of the left. third, so far as the land problem was concerned there was not the slightest need or justification for the bolshevik _coup d'état_, for the reason that the problem had already been solved on the precise lines afterward followed in the soviet decree and the leaders of the peasants were satisfied. we have the authority of no less competent a witness than litvinov, bolshevist minister to england, that "the land measure had been 'lifted' bodily from the program of the socialist-revolutionists."[ ] each of these statements is amply sustained by evidence which cannot be disputed or overcome. that the "land decree" which the bolshevik government promulgated was a compromise with their long-cherished principles admits of no doubt whatever. every one who has kept informed concerning russian revolutionary movements during the past twenty or twenty-five years knows that during all that time one of the principal subjects of controversy among socialists was the land question and the proper method of solving it. the "narodniki," or peasant socialists, later organized into the socialist-revolutionary party, wanted distribution of the land belonging to the big estates among the peasant communes, to be co-operatively owned and managed. they did not want land nationalization, which was the program of the marxists--the social democrats. this latter program meant that, instead of the land being divided among the peasants' communal organizations, it should be owned, used, and managed by the state, the principles of large-scale production and wage labor being applied to agriculture in the same manner as to industry. the attitude of the social democratic party toward the peasant socialists and their program was characterized by that same certainty that small agricultural holdings were to pass away, and by the same contemptuous attitude toward the peasant life and peasant aspirations that we find in the writings of marx, engels, liebknecht, and many other marxists.[ ] lenine himself had always adopted this attitude. he never trusted the peasants and was opposed to any program which would give the land to them as they desired. mr. walling, who spent nearly three years in russia, including the whole period of the revolution of - , writes of lenine's position at that time: like alexinsky, lenine awaits the agrarian movement ... and hopes that a railway strike with the destruction of the lines of communication and _the support of the peasantry_ may some day put the government of russia into the people's hands. however, i was shocked to find that this important leader also, though he expects a full co-operation with the peasants on equal terms, _during the revolution_, feels toward them a very _deep distrust_, thinking them to a large extent bigoted and blindly patriotic, and fearing that they may some day shoot down the working-men as the french peasants did during the paris commune. the chief basis for this distrust is, of course, the prejudiced feeling that the peasants are not likely to become good socialists. _it is on this account that lenine and all the social democratic leaders place their hopes on a future development of large agricultural estates in russia and the increase of the landless agricultural working class, which alone they believe would prove truly socialist_.[ ] the russian social democratic labor party, to which lenine belonged, and of which he was an influential leader, adopted in the following program with regard to land ownership: . confiscation of church, monastery, appanage, cabinet,[ ] and private estate lands, _except small holdings_, and turning them over, together with the state lands, to the great organs of local administration, which have been democratically elected. land, however, which is necessary as a basis for future colonization, together with the forests and bodies of water, which are of national importance, are to pass into the control of the democratic state. . wherever conditions are unfavorable for this transformation, the party declares itself in favor of a division among the peasants of such of the private estates as already have the petty farming conditions, or which may be necessary to round out a reasonable holding. this program was at the time regarded as a compromise. it did not wholly suit anybody. the peasant leaders feared the amount of state ownership and management involved. on the other hand, the extreme left wing of the social democrats--lenine and his friends--wanted the party to proclaim itself in favor of _the complete nationalization of all privately owned land, even that of the small peasant owners_, but were willing, provided the principle were this stated, to accept, as a temporary expedient, division of the land in certain exceptional instances. on the other hand, the socialist-revolutionists wanted, not the distribution of lands among a multitude of private owners, as is very generally supposed, but its socialization. their program provided for "the socialization of all privately owned lands--that is, the taking of them out of the private ownership of persons into the public ownership and _their management by democratically organized leagues of communities with the purpose of an equitable utilization_." they wanted to avoid the creation of a great army of what they described as "wage-slaves of the state" and, on the other hand, they wanted to build upon the basis of russian communism and, as far as possible, prevent the extension of capitalist methods--and therefore of the class struggle--into the agrarian life of russia. when the bolsheviki came into power they sought first of all to split the peasant socialist movement and gain the support of its extreme left wing. for this reason they agreed to adopt the program of the revolutionary socialist party. it was marie spiridonova who made that arrangement possible. it was, in fact, a political deal. lenine and trotzky, on behalf of the bolshevik government, agreed to accept the land policy of the socialist-revolutionists, and in return spiridonova and her friends agreed to support the bolsheviki. there is abundant evidence of the truth of the following account of professor ross: among the first acts of the bolsheviki in power was to square their debt to the left wing of the social revolutionists, their ally in the _coup d'état_. the latter would accept only one kind of currency--the expropriation of the private landowners without compensation and the transfer of all land into the hands of the peasant communes. the bolsheviki themselves, as good marxists, took no stock in the peasants' commune. as such, pending the introduction of socialism, they should, perhaps, have nationalized the land and rented it to the highest bidder, regardless of whether it was to be tilled in small parcels without hired labor or in large blocks on the capitalistic plan. the land edict of november does, indeed, decree land nationalism; however, the vital proviso is added that "the use of the land must be equalized--that is, according to local conditions and according to the ability to work and the needs of each individual," and further that "the hiring of labor is not permitted." the administrative machinery is thus described: "all the confiscated land becomes the land capital of the nation. its distribution among the working-people is to be in charge of the local and central authorities, beginning with the organized rural and urban communities and ending with the provincial central organs." such is the irony of fate. _those who had charged the rural land commune with being the most serious brake upon russia's progress, and who had stigmatized the people-ists as reactionaries and utopians, now came to enact into law most of their tenets--the equalization of the use of land, the prohibition of the hiring of labor, and everything else!_[ ] the much-praised land policy of the bolsheviki is, in fact, not a bolshevik policy at all, but one which they have accepted as a compromise for temporary political advantage. "claim everything in sight," said a noted american politician on one occasion to his followers. our followers of the bolsheviki, taught by a very clever propaganda, seem to be acting upon that maxim. they claim for the bolsheviki everything which can in the slightest manner win favor with the american public, notwithstanding that it involves claiming for the bolsheviki credit to which they are not entitled. as early as may , , it was announced by the provisional government that the "question of the transfer of the land to the toilers" was to be left to the constituent assembly, and there was never a doubt in the mind of any russian socialist how that body would settle it; never a moment when it was doubted that the constituent assembly would be controlled by the socialist-revolutionary party. when kerensky became prime minister one of the first acts of his cabinet was to create a special committee for the purpose of preparing the law for the socialization of the land and the necessary machinery for carrying the law into effect. the all-russian peasants' congress had, as early as may, five months before the bolshevik counter-revolution, adopted the land policy for which the bolsheviki now are being praised by their admirers in this country. that policy had been crystallized into a carefully prepared law which had been approved by the council of ministers. the bolsheviki did no more than to issue a crudely conceived "decree" which they have never at any time had the power to enforce in more than about a fourth of russia--in place of a law which would have embraced all russia and have been secure and permanent. on july , , marie spiridonova, in an address delivered in petrograd, protested vehemently against the manner in which the bolshevik government was departing from the policy it had agreed to maintain with regard to the land, and going back to the old social democratic ideas. she declared that she had been responsible for the decree of february, which provided for the socialization of the land. that measure provided for the abolition of private property in land, and placed all land in the hands of and under the direction of the peasant communes. it was the old socialist-revolutionist program. but the bolshevik government had not carried out the law of february. instead, it had resorted to the social democratic method of nationalization. in the western governments, she said, "great estates were being taken over by government departments and were being managed by officials, on the ground that state control would yield better results than communal ownership. under this system the peasants were being reduced to the state of slaves paid wages by the state. yet the law provided that these estates should be divided among the peasant communes to be tilled by the peasants on a co-operative system."[ ] spiridonova protested against the attitude of the bolsheviki toward the peasants, against dividing them into classes and placing the greater part of them with the bourgeoisie. she insisted that the peasants be regarded as a single class, co-operating with the industrial proletariat, yet distinct from it and from the bourgeoisie. for our present purpose, it does not matter whether the leaders of the bolsheviki were right or wrong in their decision that state operation was better than operation by village co-operatives. our sole concern here and now is the fact that they did not keep faith with the section of the peasants they had won over to their side, and the fact that, as this incident shows, we cannot regard the formal decrees of the soviet republic as descriptions of realities. the bolsheviki remain to-day, as at the beginning, a counter-revolutionary power imposing its rule upon the great mass of the russian people by armed force. there can be little doubt that if a free election could be had immediately upon the same basis as that on which the constituent assembly was elected--namely, universal, secret, equal, direct suffrage, the bolsheviki would be overwhelmingly beaten. there can be little doubt that the great mass of the peasantry would support, as before, the candidates of the socialist-revolutionary party. it is quite true that some of the leaders of that party have consented to work with the bolshevik government. compromises have been effected; the bolsheviki have conciliated the peasants somewhat, and the latter have, in many cases, sought to make the best of a bad situation. many have adopted a passive attitude. but there can be no greater mistake than to believe that the bolsheviki have solved the land question to the satisfaction of the peasants and so won their allegiance. vii this survey of the theories and practices of the bolsheviki would invite criticism and distrust if the peace program which culminated in the shameful surrender to germany, the "indecent peace" as the russians call it, were passed over without mention. and yet there is no need to tell here a story with which every one is familiar. by that humiliating peace russia lost , square kilometers of territory, occupied by , , inhabitants. she lost one-third of her total mileage of railways, amounting to more than , miles. she lost, also, per cent. of her iron production; per cent. of her coal production, and many thousands of factories of various kinds. these latter included sugar-refineries, textile-factories, breweries, tobacco-factories, , distilleries, chemical-factories, paper-mills, and , machine-factories.[ ] moreover, it was not an enduring peace and war against germany had to be resumed. in judging the manner in which the bolsheviki concluded peace with germany, it is necessary to be on guard against prejudice engendered by the war and its passions. the tragi-comedy of brest-litovsk, and the pitiable rôle of trotzky, have naturally been linked together with the manner in which lenine and his companions reached russia with the aid of the german government, the way in which all the well-known leaders of the bolsheviki had deliberately weakened the morale of the troops at the front, and their persistent opposition to all the efforts of kerensky to restore the fighting spirit of the army--all these things combined have convinced many thoughtful and close observers that the bolsheviki were in league with the germans against the allies. perhaps the time is not yet ripe for passing final judgment upon this matter. certainly there were ugly-looking incidents which appeared to indicate a close co-operation with the germans. there was, for example, the acknowledged fact that the bolsheviki on seizing the power of government immediately entered into negotiations with the notorious "parvus," whose rôle as an agent of the german government is now thoroughly established. "parvus" is the pseudonym of one of the most sinister figures in the history of the socialist movement, dr. alexander helfandt. born at odessa, of german-jewish descent, he studied in germany and in the early eighteen-nineties attained prominence as a prolific and brilliant contributor to the german socialist review, _die neue zeit_. he was early "exiled" from russia, but it was suspected by a great many socialists that in reality his "exile" was simply a device to cover employment in the russian secret service as a spy and informer, for which the prestige he had gained in socialist circles was a valuable aid. when the revolution of broke out helfandt returned to russia under the terms of the amnesty declared at that time. he at once joined the leninist section of the social democratic party, the bolsheviki. a scandal occurred some time later, when the connection of "parvus" with the russian government was freely charged against him. among those who attacked him and accused him of being an agent-provocateur were tseretelli, the socialist-revolutionist, and miliukov, the leader of the cadets. some years later, at the time of the uprisings in connection with the young turk movement, "parvus" turned up in constantinople, where he was presumably engaged in work for the german government. this was commonly believed in european political circles, though denied at the time by "parvus" himself. one thing is certain, namely, that although he was notoriously poor when he went there--his financial condition was well known to his socialist associates--he returned at the beginning of a very rich man. he explained his riches by saying that he had, while at constantinople, bucharest, and sofia, successfully speculated in war wheat. he wrote this explanation in the german socialist paper, _die glocke_, and drew from hugo hasse the following observation: "i blame nobody for being wealthy; i only ask if it is the rôle of a social democrat to become a profiteer of the war."[ ] very soon we find this precious gentleman settled in copenhagen, where he established a "society for studying the social consequences of the war," which was, of course, entirely pro-german. this society is said to have exercised considerable influence among the russians in copenhagen and to have greatly influenced many danish socialists to take germany's side. according to _pravda_, the bolshevik organ, the german government, through the intermediary of german social democrats, established a working relation with danish trade-unions and the danish social democratic party, whereby the danish unions got the coal needed in copenhagen at a figure below the market price. then the danish party sent its leader, borgdjerg, to petrograd as an emissary to place before the petrograd soviet the terms of peace of the german majority socialists, which were, of course, the terms of the german government. we find "parvus" at the same time, as he is engaged in this sort of intrigue, associated with one furstenberg in shipping drugs into russia and food from russia into germany.[ ] according to grumbach,[ ] he sought to induce prominent norwegian socialists to act as intermediaries to inform certain norwegian syndicates that germany would grant them a monopoly of coal consignments if the norwegian social democratic press would adopt a more friendly attitude toward germany and the social democratic members in the norwegian parliament would urge the stoppage or the limitation of fish exports to england. during this period "parvus" was bitterly denounced by plechanov, by alexinsky and other russian socialists as an agent of the central powers. he was denounced also by lenine and trotzky and by _pravda_. lenine described him as "the vilest of bandits and betrayers." it was therefore somewhat astonishing for those familiar with these facts to read the following communication, which appeared in the german socialist press on november , , and, later, in the british socialist organ, _justice_: stockholm, november .--the foreign relations committee of the bolsheviki makes the following communication: "the german comrade, 'parvus,' has brought to the bolshevik committee at stockholm the congratulations of the _parteivorstand_ of the majority social democrats, who declare their solidarity with the struggles of the russian proletariat and with its request to begin pourparlers immediately on the basis of a democratic peace without annexations and indemnities. the foreign relations committee of the bolsheviki has transmitted these declarations to the central committee at petrograd, as well as to the soviets." when hugo hasse questioned philipp scheidemann about the negotiations which were going on through "parvus," scheidemann replied that it was the bolsheviki themselves who had invited "parvus" to come to stockholm for the purpose of opening up negotiations. this statement was denounced as a lie by karl radek in _pravda_. some day, doubtless, the truth will be known; for the present it is enough to note the fact that as early as november the bolsheviki were negotiating through such a discredited agent of the central powers as dr. alexander helfandt, otherwise "parvus," the well-known marxist! such facts as this, added to those previously noticed, tended inevitably to strengthen the conviction that lenine and trotsky were the pliant and conscious tools of germany all the time, and that the protests of trotzky at brest-litovsk were simply stage-play. but for all that, unless and until official, documentary evidence is forthcoming which proves them to have been in such relations with the german government and military authorities, they ought not to be condemned upon the chain of suspicious circumstances, strong as that chain apparently is. the fact is that they had to make peace, and make it quickly. kerensky, had he been permitted to hold on, would equally have had to make a separate peace, and make it quickly. only one thing could have delayed that for long--namely, the arrival of an adequate force of allied troops on the russian front to stiffen the morale and to take the burden of fighting off from the russians. of that there was no sign and no promise or likelihood. kerensky knew that he would have had to make peace, at almost any cost and on almost any terms, if he remained in power. if the bolsheviki appear in the light of traitors to the allies, it should be remembered that pressure of circumstances would have forced even such a loyal friend of the allies as kerensky certainly proved himself to be to make a separate peace, practically on germany's terms, in a very little while. it was not a matter of months, but of weeks at most, probably of days. russia had to have peace. the nation was war-weary and exhausted. the allies had not understood the situation--indeed, they never have understood russia, even to this day--and had bungled right along. what made it possible for the bolsheviki to assert their rule so easily was the fact that they promised immediate peace, and the great mass of the russian workers wanted immediate peace above everything else. they were so eager for peace that so long as they could get it they cared at the time for nothing. literally nothing else mattered. as we have seen, the bolshevik leaders had strenuously denied wanting to make a "separate peace." there is little reason for doubting that they were sincere in this in the sense that what they wanted was a _general_ peace, if that could be possibly obtained. peace they had to have, as quickly as possible. if they could not persuade their allies to join with them in making such a general peace, they were willing to make a _separate_ peace. that is quite different from _wanting_ a separate peace from the first. there was, indeed, in the demand made at the beginning of december upon the allies to restate their war aims within a period of seven days an arrogant and provocative tone which invited the suspicion that the ultimatum--for such it was--had not been conceived in good faith; that it was deliberately framed in such a manner as to prevent compliance by the allies. and it may well be the fact that lenine and trotzky counted upon the inevitable refusal to convince the russian people, and especially the russian army, that the allied nations were fighting for imperialistic ends, just as the bolsheviki had always charged. the machiavellian cunning of such a policy is entirely characteristic of the conspirator type. on december th the armistice was signed at brest-litovsk, to last for a period of twenty-eight days. on december th, the bolsheviki had published the terms upon which they desired to effect the armistice. these terms, which the germans scornfully rejected, provided that the german forces which had been occupied on the russian front should not be sent to other fronts to fight against the allies, and that the german troops should retire from the russian islands held by them. in the armistice as it was finally signed at brest-litovsk there was a clause which, upon its face, seemed to prove that trotzky had kept faith with the allies. the clause provided that there should be no transfer of troops by either side, for the purpose of military operations, during the armistice, from the front between the baltic and the black sea. this, however, was, from the german point of view, merely a _pro forma_ arrangement, a "scrap of paper." grumbach wrote to _l'humanité_ that on december th berlin was full of german soldiers from the russian front en route to the western front. he said that he had excellent authority for saying that this had been called to the attention of lenine and trotzky by the independent social democrats, but that, "nevertheless, they diplomatically shut their eyes."[ ] it is more than probable that, in the circumstances, neither lenine nor trotzky cared much if at all for such a breach of the terms of the armistice, but, had their attitude been otherwise, what could they have done? they were as helpless as ever men were in the world, as subsequent events proved. as one reads the numerous declamatory utterances of trotzky in those critical days of early december, , the justice of lenine's scornful description of his associate as a "man who blinds himself with revolutionary phrases" becomes manifest. it is easy to understand the strained relations that existed between the two men. his "neither war nor peace" gesture--it was no more!--his dramatic refusal to sign the stiffened peace terms, his desire to call all russia to arms again to fight the germans, his determination to create a vast "red army" to renew the war against germany, and his professed willingness to "accept the services of american officers in training that army," all indicated a mind given to illusions and stone blind to realities. lenine at least knew that the game was up. he knew that the game into which he had so coolly entered when he left switzerland, and which he had played with all his skill and cunning, was at an end and that the germans had won. the germans behaved with a perfidy that is unmatched in modern history, disregarded the armistice they had signed, and savagely hurled their forces against the defenseless, partially demobilized and trusting russians. there was nothing left for the bolsheviki to do. they had delivered russia to the germans. in march the "indecent peace" was signed, with what result we know. bolshevism had been the ally of prussian militarism. consciously or unconsciously, willingly or unwillingly, lenine, trotzky, and the other bolshevik leaders had done all that men could do to make the german military lords masters of the world. had there been a similar movement in france, england, the united states, or even italy, to-day the hohenzollerns and habsburgs would be upon their thrones, realizing the fulfilment of the pan-german vision. viii in view of the fact that so many of our american pacifists have glorified the bolsheviki, it may be well to remind them, if they have forgotten, or to inform them, if they do not know it, that their admiration is by no means reciprocated. both lenine and trotzky have spoken and written in terms of utter disdain of pacifist movements in general and of the pacifists of england and america in particular. they have insisted that, _in present society_, disarmament is really a reactionary proposal. the inclusion in the constitution, which they have forced upon russia by armed might, of _permanent universal compulsory military service_ is not by accident. they believe that only when all nations have become socialist nations will it be a proper policy for socialists to favor disarmament. it would be interesting to know how our american admirers and defenders of bolshevism, who are all anti-conscriptionists and ultra-pacifists, so far as can be discovered, reconcile their position with that of the bolsheviki who base their state, not as a temporary expedient, _but as a matter of principle_, upon universal, compulsory military service! what, one wonders, do these american bolsheviki worshipers think of the teaching of these paragraphs from an article by lenine?[ ] disarmament is a socialistic ideal. in socialist society there will be no more wars, which means that disarmament will have been realized. but he is not a socialist who expects the realization of socialism _without_ the social revolution and the dictatorship of the proletariat. dictatorship is a government power, depending directly upon force, and, in the twentieth century, force means, not fists and clubs, but armies. to insert "disarmament" into our program is equivalent to saying, we are opposed to the use of arms. but such a statement would contain not a grain of marxism, any more than would the equivalent statement, we are opposed to the use of force. * * * * * _a suppressed class which has no desire to learn the use of arms, and to bear arms, deserves nothing else than to be treated as slaves_. we cannot, unless we wish to transform ourselves into mere bourgeois pacifists, forget that we are living in a society based on classes, and that there is no escape from such a society, except by the class struggle and the overthrow of the power of the ruling class. in every class society, whether it be based on slavery, serfdom, or, as at the present moment, on wage-labor, the class of the oppressors is an armed class. not only the standing army of the present day, but also the present-day popular militia--even in the most democratic bourgeois republics, as in switzerland--means an armament of the bourgeoisie against the proletariat.... how can you, in the face of this fact, ask the revolutionary social democracy to set up the "demand" of "disarmament"? _to ask this is to renounce completely the standpoint of the class struggle, to give up the very thought of revolution_. our watchword must be: to arm the proletariat so that it may defeat, expropriate, and disarm the bourgeoisie. this is the only possible policy of the revolutionary class, a policy arising directly from the _actual evolution_ of capitalistic militarism, in fact, dictated by the evolution. only after having disarmed the bourgeoisie can the proletariat, without betraying its historic mission, cast all weapons to the scrap-heap; and there is no doubt that the proletariat will do this, but only then, and not by any possibility before then. how is it possible for our extreme pacifists, with their relentless opposition to military force in all its forms to conscription, to universal military service, to armaments of all kinds, even for defensive purposes, and to voluntarily enlisted armies even, to embrace bolshevism with enthusiasm, resting as it does upon the basis of the philosophy so frankly stated by lenine, is a question for which no answer seems wholly adequate. of course, what lenine advocates is class armament within the nation, for civil war--the war of the classes. but he is not opposed to national armaments, as such, nor willing to support disarmament as a national policy _until the time comes when an entirely socialized humanity finds itself freed from the necessity of arming against anybody_. there is probably not a militarist in america to-day who, however bitterly opposed to disarmament as a present policy, would not agree that if, in some future time, mankind reaches the happy condition of universal socialism, disarmament will then become practicable and logical. it would not be difficult for general wood to subscribe to that doctrine, i think. it would not have been difficult for mr. roosevelt to subscribe to it. not only is lenine willing to support national armaments, and even to fight for the defense of national rights, whenever an attack on these is also an attack on proletarian rights--which he believes to be the case in the continued war against germany, he goes much farther than this _and provides a theoretical justification for a socialist policy of passive acceptance of ever-increasing militarism_. he draws a strangely forced parallel between the socialist attitude toward the trusts and the attitude which ought to be taken toward armaments. we know, he argues, that trusts bring great evils. against the evils we struggle, but how? not by trying to do away with the trusts, for we regard the trusts as steps in progress. we must go onward, through the trust system to socialism. in a similar way we should not deplore "the militarization of the populations." if the bourgeoisie militarizes all the men, and all the boys, nay, even all the women, why--so much the better! "never will the women of an oppressed class that is really revolutionary be content" to demand disarmament. on the contrary, they will encourage their sons to bear the arms and "learn well the business of war." of course, this knowledge they will use, "not in order that they may shoot at their brothers, the workers of other countries, as they are doing in the present war ... but in order that they may struggle against the bourgeoisie in their own country, in order that they may put an end to exploitation, poverty, and war, not by the path of good-natured wishes, but by the path of victory over the bourgeoisie and of disarmament of the bourgeoisie."[ ] universally the working class has taken a position the very opposite of this. universally we find the organized working class favoring disarmament, peace agreements, and covenants in general opposing extensions of what lenine describes as "the militarization of populations." for this universality of attitude and action there can only be one adequate explanation--namely, the instinctive class consciousness of the workers. but, according to lenine, this instinctive class consciousness is all wrong; somehow or other it expresses itself in a "bourgeois" policy. the workers ought to welcome the efforts of the ruling class to militarize and train in the arts of war not only the men of the nations, but the boys and even the women as well. some day, if this course be followed, there will be two great armed classes in every nation and between these will occur the decisive war which shall establish the supremacy of the most numerous and powerful class. socialism is thus to be won, not by the conquests of reason and of conscience, but by brute force. obviously, there is no point of sympathy between this brutal and arrogant gospel of force and the striving of modern democracy for the peaceful organization of the world, for disarmament, a league of nations, and, in general, the supplanting of force of arms by the force of reason and morality. there is a prussian quality in lenine's philosophy. he is the treitschke of social revolt, brutal, relentless, and unscrupulous, glorying in might, which is, for him, the only right. and that is what characterizes the whole bolshevik movement: it is the infusion into the class strife and struggles of the world the same brutality and the same faith that might is right which made prussian militarism the menace it was to civilization. and just as the world of civilized mankind recognized prussian militarism as its deadly enemy, to be overcome at all costs, so, too, bolshevism must be overcome. and that can best be done, not by attempting to drown it in blood, but by courageously and consistently setting ourselves to the task of removing the social oppression, the poverty, and the servitude which produce the desperation of soul that drives men to bolshevism. the remedy for bolshevism is a sane and far-reaching program of constructive social democracy. postscriptum: a personal statement this book is the fulfilment of a promise to a friend. soon after my return from europe, in november, i spent part of a day in new york discussing bolshevism with two friends. one of these is a russian socialist, who has lived many years in america, a citizen of the united states, and a man whose erudition and fidelity to the working-class movement during many years have long commanded my admiration and reverence. the other friend is a native american, also a socialist. a sincere christian, he has identified his faith in the religion of jesus and his faith in democratic socialism. the two are not conflicting forces, or even separate ones, but merely different and complementary aspects of the same faith. he is a man who is universally loved and honored for his nobility of character and his generous idealism. while in europe i had spent much time consulting with russian friends in paris, rome, and other cities, and had collected a considerable amount of authentic material relating to bolshevism and the bolsheviki. i had not the slightest intention of using this material to make a book; in fact, my plans contemplated a very different employment of my time. but, in the course of the discussion, my american socialist friend asked me to "jot down" for him some of the things i had said, and, especially, to write, in a letter, what i believed to be the psychology of bolshevism. this, in an unguarded moment, i undertook to do. when i set out, a few days later, to redeem my promise, i found that, in order to make things intelligible, it was absolutely necessary to explain the historical backgrounds of the russian revolutionary movement, to describe the point of view of various persons and groups with some detail, and to quote quite extensively from the documentary material i had gathered. naturally, the limits of a letter were quickly outgrown and i found that my response to my friend's innocent request approached the length of a small volume. even so, it was quite unsatisfactory. it left many things unexplained and much of my own thought obscure. i decided then to rewrite the whole thing and make a book of it, thus making available for what i hope will be a large number of readers what i had at first intended only for a dear friend. i am very conscious of the imperfections of the book as it stands. it has been written under conditions far from favorable, crowded into a very busy life. my keenest critics will, i am sure, be less conscious of its defects than i am. it is, however, an earnest contribution to a very important discussion, and, i venture to hope, with all its demerits, a useful one. if it aids a single person to a clearer comprehension of the inherent wrongfulness of the bolshevist philosophy and method, i shall be rewarded. * * * * * _so here, my dear will, is the fulfilment of my promise._ appendices i. an appeal to the proletariat by the petrograd workmen's and soldiers' council ii. how the russian peasants fought for a constituent assembly--a report to the international socialist bureau iii. former socialist premier of finland on bolshevism appendix i an appeal to the proletariat by the petrograd workmen's and soldiers' council comrades: _proletarians and working-people of all countries_: we, russian workers and soldiers, united in the petrograd workmen's and soldiers' delegate council, send you our warmest greetings and the news of great events. the democracy of russia has overthrown the century-old despotism of the czars and enters your ranks as a rightful member and as a powerful force in the battle for our common liberation. our victory is a great victory for the freedom and democracy of the world. the principal supporter of reaction in the world, the "gendarme of europe," no longer exists. may the earth over his grave become a heavy stone! long live liberty, long live the international solidarity of the proletariat and its battle for the final victory! our cause is not yet entirely won. not all the shadows of the old régime have been scattered and not a few enemies are gathering their forces together against the russian revolution. nevertheless, our conquests are great. the peoples of russia will express their will in the constitutional convention which is to be called within a short time upon the basis of universal, equal, direct, and secret suffrage. and now it may already be said with certainty in advance that the democratic republic will triumph in russia. the russian people is in possession of complete political liberty. now it can say an authoritative word about the internal self-government of the country and about its foreign policy. and in addressing ourselves to all the peoples who are being destroyed and ruined in this terrible war, we declare that the time has come in which the decisive struggle against the attempts at conquest by the governments of all the nations must be begun. the time has come in which the peoples must take the matter of deciding the questions of war and peace into their own hands. conscious of its own revolutionary strength, the democracy of russia declares that it will fight with all means against the policy of conquest of its ruling classes, and it summons the peoples of europe to united, decisive action for peace. we appeal to our brothers, to the german-austrian coalition, and above all to the german proletariat. the first day of the war you were made to believe that in raising your weapons against absolutist russia you were defending european civilization against asiatic despotism. in this many of you found the justification of the support that was accorded to the war. now also this justification has vanished. democratic russia cannot menace freedom and civilization. we shall firmly defend our own liberty against all reactionary threats, whether they come from without or within. the russian revolution will not retreat before the bayonets of conquerors, and it will not allow itself to be trampled to pieces by outside military force. we call upon you to throw off the yoke of your absolutist régime, as the russian people has shaken off the autocracy of the czars. refuse to serve as the tools of conquest and power in the hands of the kings, junkers, and bankers, and we shall, with common efforts, put an end to the fearful butchery that dishonors humanity and darkens the great days of the birth of russian liberty. working-men of all countries! in fraternally stretching out our hands to you across the mountains of our brothers' bodies, across the sea of innocent blood and tears, across the smoking ruins of cities and villages, across the destroyed gifts of civilization, we summon you to the work of renewing and solidifying international unity. in that lies the guaranty of our future triumph and of the complete liberation of humanity. working-men of all countries, unite! tchcheidze, _the president_. petrograd, _april, _. appendix ii how the russian peasants fought for a constituent assembly[ ] a report to the international socialist bureau by inna rakitnikov, vice-president of the executive committee of the soviet of delegates, placing themselves upon the grounds of the defense of the constituent assembly. with a letter-preface by the citizen, e. roubanovitch, member of the international socialist bureau. _to the executive committee of the international socialist bureau_: dear comrades,--the citizen inna rakitnikov has lately come from petrograd to paris for personal reasons that are peculiarly tragic. at the time of her departure the executive committee of the second soviet of peasant delegates of all-russia, of which she is one of the vice-presidents, requested her to make to the international socialist bureau a detailed report of the fights that this organization had to make against the bolsheviki in order to realize the convocation of the constituent assembly. this is the report under the title of a document that i present here, without commentary, asking you to communicate it without delay to all the sections of the international. two words of explanation, only: first, i wish to draw your attention to the fact that this is the second time that the executive committee of the soviet of the peasants of all-russia addresses itself publicly to the international. at the time of my journey to stockholm in the month of september, , i made, at a session of the holland, scandinavian committee, presided over by branting, a communication in the name of the executive committee of the soviet of peasants. i handed over on this occasion to our secretary, camille huysmans, an appeal to the democrats of the entire world, in which the executive committee indicated clearly its position in the questions of the world war and of agrarian reform, and vindicated its place in the workers' and socialist international family. i must also present to you the author of this report. the citizen rakitnikov, a member of the russian revolutionary socialist party, has worked for a long time in the ranks of this party as a publicist and organizer and propagandist, especially among the peasants. she has known long years of prison, of siberia, of exile. before and during the war until the beginning of the revolution she lived as a political fugitive in paris. while being a partizan convinced of the necessity of national defense of invaded countries against the imperialistic aggression of german militarism--in which she is in perfect accord with the members of our party such as stepan sletof, iakovlef, and many other voluntary russian republicans, all dead facing the enemy in the ranks of the french army--the citizen rakitnikov belonged to the international group. i affirm that her sincere and matured testimony cannot be suspected of partizanship or of dogmatic partiality against the bolsheviki, who, as you know, tried to cover their follies and their abominable crimes against the plan of the russian people, and against all the other socialist parties, under the lying pretext of internationalist ideas, ideas which they have, in reality, trampled under foot and betrayed. yours fraternally, e. roubanovitch, _june , ._ _member of the b.s.i._ "the bolsheviki who promised liberty, equality, peace, etc., have not been ashamed to follow in the footsteps of czarism. it is not liberty; it is tyranny." (extract from a letter of a young russian socialist, an enthusiast of liberty who died all too soon.) i _organization of the peasants after the revolution in soviets of peasant delegates_ a short time after the revolution of february the russian peasants grouped themselves in a national soviet of peasant delegates at the first congress of the peasants of all-russia, which took place at petrograd. the executive committee of this soviet was elected. it was composed of well-known leaders of the revolutionary socialist party and of peasant delegates sent from the country. without adhering officially to the revolutionary socialist party, the soviet of peasant delegates adopted the line of conduct of this party. while co-ordinating its tactics with the party's, it nevertheless remained an organization completely independent. the bolsheviki, who at this congress attempted to subject the peasants to their influence, had not at the time any success. the speeches of lenine and the other members of this party did not meet with any sympathy, but on the contrary provoked lively protest. the executive committee had as its organ the paper _izvestya of the national soviet of peasant delegates_. thousands of copies of this were scattered throughout the country. besides the central national soviet there existed local organizations, the soviets, the government districts who were in constant communication with the executive committee staying at petrograd. from its foundation the executive committee exercised great energy in the work of the union and the organization of the peasant masses, and in the development of the socialist conscience in their breasts. its members spread thousands and hundreds of thousands of copies of pamphlets of the revolutionary socialist party, exposing in simple form the essence of socialism and the history of the international explaining the sense and the importance of the revolution in russia, the history of the fight that preceded it, showing the significance of the liberties acquired. they insisted, above all, on the importance of the socialization of the soil and the convocation of the constituent assembly. a close and living tie was created between the members of the executive committee staying at petrograd and the members in the provinces. the executive committee was truly the expression of the will of the mass of the russian peasants. the minister of agriculture and the principal agrarian committee were at this time occupied in preparing the groundwork of the realization of socialization of the soil; the revolutionary socialist party did not cease to press the government to act in this sense. agrarian committees were formed at once to fight against the disorganized recovery of lands by the peasants, and to take under their control large properties where exploitation based on the co-operative principle was in progress of organization; agricultural improvements highly perfected would thus be preserved against destruction and pillage. at the same time agrarian committees attended to a just distribution among the peasants of the lands of which they had been despoiled. the peasants, taken in a body, and in spite of the agrarian troubles which occurred here and there, awaited the reform with patience, understanding all the difficulties which its realization required and all the impossibilities of perfecting the thing hastily. the executive committee of the soviet of peasants' delegates played in this respect an important rôle. it did all it could to explain to the peasants the complexity of the problem in order to prevent them from attempting anything anarchistic, or to attempt a disorganized recovery of lands which could end only with the further enrichment of peasants who were already rich. such was, in its general aspect, the action of the national soviet of peasants' delegates, which, in the month of august, , addressed, through the intermediary of the international socialist bureau, an appeal to the democracies of the world. in order to better understand the events which followed, we must consider for a moment the general conditions which at that time existed in russia, and in the midst of which the action of this organization was taking place. ii _the difficulties of the beginning of the revolution_ the honeymoon of the revolution had passed rapidly. joy gave place to cares and alarms. autocracy had bequeathed to the country an unwieldy heritage: the army and the whole mechanism of the state were disorganized. taking advantage of the listlessness of the army, the bolshevist propaganda developed and at the same time increased the desire of the soldiers to fight no more. the disorganization was felt more and more at the front; at the same time anarchy increased in the interior of the country; production diminished; the productiveness of labor was lowered, and an eight-hour day became in fact a five or six-hour day. the strained relations between the workers and the administration were such that certain factories preferred to close. the central power suffered frequent crises; the cadets, fearing the responsibilities, preferred to remain out of power. all this created a state of unrest and hastened the preparations for the election of the constituent assembly, toward which the eyes of the whole country were turned. nevertheless, the country was far from chaos and from the anarchy into which further events plunged it. young russia, not accustomed to liberty, without experience in political life and autonomous action, was far from that hopeless state to which the bolsheviki reduced it some months later. the people had confidence in the socialists, in the revolutionary socialist party, which then held sway everywhere, in the municipalities, the zemstvos, and in the soviets; they had confidence in the constituent assembly which would restore order and work out the laws. all that was necessary was to combat certain characteristics and certain peculiarities of the existence of the russian people, which impelled them toward anarchy, instead of encouraging them, as did the bolsheviki, who, in this respect, followed the line of least resistance. the bolshevist propaganda did all within its power to weaken the provisional government, to discredit it in the eyes of the people, to increase the licentiousness at the front and disorganization in the interior of the country. they proclaimed that the "imperialists" sent the soldiers to be massacred, but what they did not say is that under actual conditions it was necessary for a revolutionary people to have a revolutionary army to defend its liberty. they spoke loudly for a counter-revolution and for counter-revolutionaries who await but the propitious moment to take hold of the government, while in reality the complete failure of the insurrection of kornilov showed that the counter-revolution could rest on nothing, that there was no place for it then in the life of russia. in fine, the situation of the country was difficult, but not critical. the united efforts of the people and all the thousands of forces of the country would have permitted it to come to the end of its difficulties and to find a solution of the situation. iii _the insurrection of kornilov_ but now the insurrection of kornilov broke out. it was entirely unexpected by all the socialist parties, by their central committees, and, of course, by the socialist ministers. petrograd was in no way prepared for an attack of this kind. in the course of the evening of the fatal day when kornilov approached petrograd, the central committee of the revolutionary socialist party received by telephone, from the palace of hiver, the news of the approach of kornilovien troops. this news revolutionized everybody. a meeting of all the organizations took place at smolny; the members of the party alarmed by the news, and other persons wishing to know the truth about the events, or to receive indications as to what should be done, came there to a reunion. it was a strange picture that smolny presented that night. the human torrent rushed along its corridors, committees and commissions sat in its side apartments. they asked one another what was happening, what was to be done. news succeeded news. one thing was certain. petrograd was not prepared for the fight. it was not protected by anything, and the cossacks who followed kornilov could easily take it. the national soviet of peasants' delegates in the session that it held that same night at no. fontaka street adopted a resolution calling all the peasants to armed resistance against kornilov. the central executive committee with the soviet of workmen's and soldiers' delegates established a special organization which was to defend petrograd and to fight against the insurrection. detachments of volunteers and of soldiers were directed toward the locality where kornilov was, to get information and to organize a propaganda among the troops that followed the general, and in case of failure to fight hand to hand. as they quit in the morning they did not know how things would turn; they were rather pessimistic with regard to the issue of the insurrection for the socialists. the end of this conspiracy is known. the troops that followed kornilov left him as soon as they found out the truth. in this respect, everything ended well, but this event had profound and regrettable circumstances. the acute deplorable crisis of the central power became chronic. the cadets, compromised by their participation in the kornilov conspiracy, preferred to remain apart. the socialist-revolutionists did not see clearly what there was at the bottom of the whole affair. _it was as much as any one knew at the moment_. kerensky, in presence of the menace of the counter-revolution on the right and of the growing anarchy on the extreme left, would have called to petrograd a part of the troops from the front to stem the tide. such was the rôle of different persons in this story. it is only later, when all the documents will be shown, that the story can be verified, but at all events it is beyond doubt that the revolutionary socialist party was in no wise mixed in this conspiracy. the conspiracy of kornilov completely freed the hands of the bolsheviki. in the pravda, and in other bolshevist newspapers, complaints were read of the danger of a new counter-revolution which was developing with the complicity of kerensky acting in accord or in agreement with the traitor cadets. the public was excited against the socialist-revolutionists, who were accused of having secretly helped this counter-revolution. the bolsheviki alone, said its organs, had saved the revolution; to them alone was due the failure of the kornilov insurrection. the bolsheviki agitation assumed large proportions. copies of the _pravda_, spread lavishly here and there, were poisoned with calumny, campaigns against the other parties, boasting gross flatteries addressed to the soldiers and appeals to trouble. bolsheviki meetings permeated with the same spirit were organized at petrograd, moscow, and other cities. bolshevist agitators set out for the front at the same time with copies of the _pravda_ and other papers, and the bolsheviki enjoyed, during this time--as lenine himself admits--complete liberty. their chiefs, compromised in the insurrection of june d, had been given their freedom. their principal watchword was "down with the war!" "kerensky and the other conciliators," they cried, "want war and do not want peace. kerensky will give you neither peace, nor land, nor bread, nor constituent assembly. down with the traitor and the counter-revolutionists! they want to smother the revolution. we demand peace. we will give you peace, land to the peasants, factories and work to the workmen!" under this simple form the agitation was followed up among the masses and found a propitious ground, first among the soldiers who were tired of war and athirst for peace. in the soviet of the workmen's and soldiers' delegates of petrograd the bolshevist party soon found itself strengthened and fortified. its influence was also considerable among the sailors of the baltic fleet. cronstadt was entirely in their hands. new elections of the central executive committee of the soviet of workmen's and soldiers' delegates soon became necessary; they gave a big majority to the bolsheviki. the old bureau, tchcheidze at its head, had to leave; the bolsheviki triumphed clamorously. to fight against the bolsheviki the executive committee of the national soviet of peasants' delegates decided at the beginning of december to call a second general peasants' congress. this was to decide if the peasants would defend the constituent assembly or if they would follow the bolsheviki. this congress had, in effect, a decisive importance. it showed what was the portion of the peasant class that upheld the bolsheviki. it was principally the peasants in soldiers' dress, the "déclassé soldiers," men taken from the country life by the war, from their natural surroundings, and desiring but one thing, the end of the war. the peasants who had come from the country had, on the contrary, received the mandate to uphold the constituent assembly. they firmly maintained their point of view and resisted all the attempts of the bolsheviki and the "socialist-revolutionists of the left" (who followed them blindly) to make their influence prevail. the speech of lenine was received with hostility; as for trotzky, who, some time before, had publicly threatened with the guillotine all the "enemies of the revolution," they prevented him from speaking, crying out: "down with the tyrant! guillotineur! assassin!" to give his speech trotzky, accompanied by his faithful "capotes," was obliged to repair to another hall. the second peasants' congress was thus distinctly split into two parties. the bolsheviki tried by every means to elude a straight answer to the question, "does the congress wish to uphold the constituent assembly?" they prolonged the discussion, driving the peasants to extremities by every kind of paltry discussion on foolish questions, hoping to tire them out and thus cause a certain number of them to return home. the tiresome discussions carried on for ten days, with the effect that a part of the peasants, seeing nothing come from it, returned home. but the peasants had, in spite of all, the upper hand; by a roll-call vote against pronounced themselves for the defense without reserve of the constituent assembly. any work in common for the future was impossible. the fraction of the peasants that pronounced itself for the constituent assembly continued to sit apart, named its executive committee, and decided to continue the fight resolutely. the bolsheviki, on their part, took their partizans to the smolny, declared to be usurpers of the soviet of peasants' delegates who pronounced themselves for the defense of the constituante, and, with the aid of soldiers, ejected the former executive committee from their premises and took possession of their goods, the library, etc. the new executive committee, which did not have at its disposition red guards, was obliged to look for another place, to collect the money necessary for this purpose, etc. its members were able, with much difficulty, to place everything upon its feet and to assure the publication of an organ (the _izvestya_ of the national soviet of peasants' delegates determined to defend the constituent assembly), to send delegates into different regions, and to establish relations with the provinces, etc. together with the peasants, workmen and socialist parties and numerous democratic organizations prepared themselves for the defense of the constituent assembly: the union of postal employees, a part of the union of railway workers, the bank employees, the city employees, the food distributors' organizations, the teachers' associations, the zemstvos, the co-operatives. these organizations believed that the _coup d'état_ of october th was neither legal nor just; they demanded a convocation with brief delay of the constituent assembly and the restoration of the liberties that were trampled under foot by the bolsheviki. these treated them as _saboteurs_, "enemies of the people," deprived them of their salaries, and expelled them from their lodgings. they ordered those who opposed them to be deprived of their food-cards. they published lists of strikers, thus running the risk of having them lynched by the crowds. at saratov, for example, the strike of postal workers and telegraphers lasted a month and a half. the institutions whose strike would have entailed for the population not only disorganization, but an arrest of all life (such as the railroads, the organizations of food distributers), abstained from striking, only asking the bolsheviki not to meddle with their work. sometimes, however, the gross interference of the bolsheviki in work of which they understood nothing obliged those opposed to them, in spite of everything, to strike. it is to be noted also that the professors of secondary schools were obliged to join the strike movements (the superior schools had already ceased to function at this time) as well as the theatrical artistes: a talented artist, silotti, was arrested; he declared that even in the time of czarism nobody was ever uneasy on account of his political opinions. iv _the bolsheviki and the constituent assembly_ at the time of the accomplishment of their _coup d'état_, the bolsheviki cried aloud that the ministry of kerensky put off a long time the convocation of the constituante (which was a patent lie), that they would never call the assembly, and that they alone, the bolsheviki, would do it. but according as the results of the elections became known their opinions changed. in the beginning they boasted of their electoral victories at petrograd and moscow. then they kept silent, as if the elections had no existence whatever. but the _pravda_ and the _izvestya_ of the soviet of workmen's and soldiers' delegates continued to treat as caluminators those who exposed the danger that was threatening the constituent assembly at the hands of the bolsheviki. they did not yet dare to assert themselves openly. they had to gain time to strengthen their power. they hastily followed up peace pourparlers, to place russia and the constituent assembly, if this met, before an accomplished fact. they hastened to attract the peasants to themselves. that was the reason which motived the "decree" of lenine on the socialization of the soil, which decree appeared immediately after the _coup d'état_. this decree was simply a reproduction of a revolutionary socialists' resolution adopted at a peasants' congress. what could the socialization of the soil be to lenine and all the bolsheviki in general? they had been, but a short time before, profoundly indifferent with regard to this socialist-revolutionist "utopia." it had been for them an object of raillery. but they knew that without this "utopia" they would have no peasants. and they threw them this mouthful, this "decree," which astonished the peasants. "is it a law? is it not a law? nobody knows," they said. it is the same desire to have, cost what it may, the sympathy of the peasants that explains the union of the bolsheviki with those who are called the "socialist-revolutionists of the left" (for the name socialist-revolutionist spoke to the heart of the peasant), who played the stupid and shameful rôle of followers of the bolsheviki, with a blind weapon between their hands. a part of the "peasants in uniform" followed the bolsheviki to smolny. the germans honored the bolsheviki by continuing with them the pourparlers for peace. the bolshevist government had at its disposal the red guards, well paid, created suddenly in the presence of the crumbling of the army for fear of remaining without the help of bayonets. these red guards, who later fled in shameful fashion before the german patrols, advanced into the interior of the country and gained victories over the unarmed populace. the bolsheviki felt the ground firm under their feet and threw off the mask. a campaign against the constituent assembly commenced. at first in _pravda_ and in _izvestya_ were only questions. what will this constituent assembly be? of whom will it be composed? it is possible that it will have a majority of servants of the bourgeoisie--cadets socialist-revolutionists. _can we confide to such a constituent assembly the destinies of the russian revolution? will it recognize the power of the soviets?_ then came certain hypocritical "ifs." "if," yes, "if" the personnel of the constituent assembly is favorable to us; "if" it will recognize the power of the soviets, it can count on their support. _if not--it condemns itself to death_. the socialist-revolutionists of the left in their organ, _the flag of labor_, repeated in the wake of the bolsheviki, "we will uphold the constituent assembly in _the measure we_--" afterward we see no longer questions or prudent "ifs," but distinct answers. "the majority of the constituent assembly is formed," said the bolsheviki, "of socialist-revolutionists and cadets--that is to say, enemies of the people. this composition assures it of a counter-revolutionary spirit. its destiny is therefore clear. historic examples come to its aid. _the victorious people has no need of a constituent assembly. it is above the constituante_. it has gone beyond it." the russian people, half illiterate, were made to believe that in a few weeks they had outgrown the end for which millions of russians had fought for almost a century; that they no longer had need of the most perfect form of popular representation, such as did not exist even in the most cultivated countries of western europe. to the constituent assembly, legislative organ due to equal, direct, and secret universal suffrage, they opposed the soviets, with their recruiting done by hazard and their elections to two or three degrees,[ ] the soviets which were the revolutionary organs and not the legislative organs, and whose rôle besides none of those who fought for the constituent assembly sought to diminish. v _the fight concentrates around the constituent assembly_ this was a maneuver whose object appeared clearly. the defenders of the constituent assembly had evidence of what was being prepared. the peasants who waited with impatience the opening of the constituent assembly sent delegates to petrograd to find out the cause of the delay of the convocation. these delegates betook themselves to the executive committee of the soviet of peasants' delegates ( kirillovskaia street), and to the socialist-revolutionist fraction of the members of the constituante ( bolotnai street). this last fraction worked actively at its proper organization. a bureau of organization was elected, commissions charged to elaborate projects of law for the constituante. the fraction issued bulletins explaining to the population the program which the socialist-revolutionists were going to defend at the constituante. active relations were undertaken with the provinces. at the same time the members of the fraction, among whom were many peasants and workmen, followed up an active agitation in the workshops and factories of petrograd, and among the soldiers of the preobrajenski regiment and some others. the members of the executive committee of the soviet of peasants' delegates worked in concert with them. it was precisely the opinion of the peasants and of the workmen which had most importance in the fight against the bolsheviki. they, the true representatives of the people, were listened to everywhere; people were obliged to reckon with them. it was under these conditions that the democratic conference met. called by the provisional government, it comprised representatives of the soviets, of parties, of organizations of the army, peasant organizations, co-operatives, zemstvos, agricultural committees, etc. its object was to solve the question of power until the meeting of the constituent assembly. at this conference the bolsheviki formed only a small minority; but they acted as masters of the situation, calling, in a provocative manner, all those who were not in accord with them, "kornilovist, counter-revolutionaries, traitors!" because of this attitude the conference, which ought to have had the character of an assembly deciding affairs of state, took on the character of a boisterous meeting, which lasted several days of unending twaddle. what the bolsheviki wanted was a verbal victory--to have shouted more loudly than their opponents. the same speeches were repeated every day. some upheld a power exclusively socialist, others--the majority composed of delegates from different corners of the country--sanctioned an agreement with all the democratic elements. the provincial delegates, having come with a view to serious work, returned to their homes, carrying with them a painful impression of lost opportunities, of useless debates. there remained but a few weeks before the convocation of the constituent assembly. those who voted against a government exclusively socialist did not think that, under the troublesome conditions of the time, they could expose the country to the risk of a dispersion of strength; they feared the possible isolation of the government in face of certain elements whose help could not be relied on. but they did not take into account a fact which had resulted from the kornilovist insurrection: the natural distrust of the working masses in presence of all the non-socialists, of those who--not being in immediate contact with them--placed themselves, were it ever so little, more on the right. the democratic conference resulted in the formation of a pre-parliament. there the relations, between the forces in presence of each other, were about the same. besides the bolsheviki soon abandoned the pre-parliament, for they were already preparing their insurrection which curtailed the dissolution of that institution. "we are on the eve of a bolshevik insurrection"--such was, at this time, the opinion of all those who took part in political life. "we are rushing to it with dizzy rapidity. the catastrophe is inevitable." but what is very characteristic is this, that, while preparing their insurrection, the bolsheviki, in their press, did not hesitate to treat as liars and calumniators all those who spoke of the danger of this insurrection, and that on the eve of a conquest of power (with arms ready) premeditated and well prepared in advance. * * * * * during the whole period that preceded the bolshevik insurrection a great creative work was being carried on in the country in spite of the undesirable phenomena of which we have spoken above. . with great difficulty there were established organs of a local, autonomous administration, volost and district zemstvos, which were to furnish a basis of organization to the government zemstvos. the zemstvo of former times was made up of only class representatives; _the elections to the new zemstvos were effected by universal suffrage, equal, direct, and secret_. these elections were a kind of schooling for the population, showing it the practical significance of universal suffrage, and preparing it for the elections to the constituent assembly. at the same time they laid the foundation of a local autonomous administration. . preparations for the election to the constituent assembly were made; an agitation, an intense propaganda followed; preparations of a technical order were made. this was a difficult task because of the great number of electors, the dispersion of the population, the great number of illiterate, etc. everywhere special courts had been established, in view of the elections, to train agitators and instructors, who afterward were sent in great numbers into the country. . _at the same time the ground was hurriedly prepared for the law concerning the socialization of the soil._ the abandonment of his post by tchernov, minister of agriculture, did not stop this work. the principal agricultural committee and the minister of agriculture, directed by rakitnikov and vikhiliaev, hastened to finish this work before the convocation of the constituent assembly. the revolutionary socialist party decided to keep for itself the post of minister of agriculture; for the position they named s. maslov, who had to exact from the government an immediate vote on the law concerning the socialization of the soil. _the study of this law in the council of ministers was finished. nothing more remained to be done but to adopt and promulgate it. because of the excitement of the people in the country, it was decided to do this at once, without waiting for the constituent assembly_. finally, to better realize the conditions of the time, it must be added that the whole country awaited anxiously the elections to the constituent assembly. all believed that this was going to settle the life of russia. vi _the bolshevist insurrection_ it was under these conditions that the bolshevist _coup d'état_ happened. in the capitals as well as in the provinces, it was accomplished by armed force; at petrograd, with the help of the sailors of the baltic fleet, of the soldiers of the preobrajenski, semenovski, and other regiments, in other towns with the aid of the local garrisons. here, for example, is how the bolshevist _coup d'état_ took place at saratov. i was a witness to these facts myself. saratov is a big university and intellectual center, possessing a great number of schools, libraries, and divers associations designed to elevate the intellectual standard of the population. the zemstvo of saratov was one of the best in russia. the peasant population of this province, among whom the revolutionary socialist propaganda was carried on for several years by the revolutionary socialist party, is wide awake and well organized. the municipality and the agricultural committees were composed of socialists. the population was actively preparing for the elections to the constituent assembly; the people discussed the list of candidates, studied the candidates' biographies, as well as the programs of the different parties. on the night of october th, by reason of an order that had come from petrograd, the bolshevik _coup d'état_ broke out at saratov. the following forces were its instruments: the garrison which was a stranger to the masses of the population, a weak party of workers, and, in the capacity of leaders, some intellectuals who, up to that time, had played no rôle in the public life of the town. it was indeed a military _coup d'état_. the city hall, where sat the socialists, who were elected by equal, direct, and secret universal suffrage, was surrounded by the soldiers; machine-guns were placed in front and the bombardment began. this lasted a whole night; some were wounded, some killed. the municipal judges were arrested. soon after a manifesto solemnly announced to the population that the "enemies of the people," the "counter-revolutionaries," were overthrown; that the power at saratov was going to pass into the hands of the soviet (bolshevist) of the workmen's and soldiers' delegates. the population was perplexed; the people thought that they had sent to the town hall socialists, men of their choice. now these men were declared "enemies of the people," were shot down or arrested by other socialists. what did all this mean? and the inhabitant of saratov felt a fear stealing into his soul at the sight of this violence; he began to doubt the value of the socialist idea in general. the faith of former times gave place to doubt, disappointment, and discouragement. the _coup d'état_ was followed by divers other manifestations of bolshevist activity--arrests, searches, confiscation of newspapers, ban on meetings. bands of soldiers looted the country houses in the suburbs of the city; a school for the children of the people and the buildings of the children's holiday settlement were also pillaged. bands of soldiers were forthwith sent into the country to cause trouble there. _the sensible part of the population of saratov severely condemned these acts_ in a series of manifestos signed by the printers' union, the mill workers, the city employees' union, postal and telegraph employees, students' organizations, and many other democratic associations and organizations. the peasants received the _coup d'état_ with distinct hostility. meetings and reunions were soon organized in the villages. resolutions were voted censuring the _coup d'état_ of violence, deciding to organize to resist the bolsheviki, and demanding the removal of the bolshevist soldier members from the rural communes. the bands of soldiers, who were sent into the country, used not only persuasion, but also violence, trying to force the peasants to give their votes for the bolshevik candidates at the time of the elections to the constituent assembly; they tore up the bulletins of the socialist-revolutionists, overturned the ballot-boxes, etc. but the bolshevik soldiers were not able to disturb the confidence of the peasants in the constituent assembly, and in the revolutionary socialist party, whose program they had long since adopted, and whose leaders and ways of acting they knew, the inhabitants of the country proved themselves in all that concerned the elections wide awake to the highest degree. there were hardly any abstentions, _ per cent. of the population took part in the voting_. the day of the voting was kept as a solemn feast; the priest said mass; the peasants dressed in their sunday clothes; they believed that the constituent assembly would give them order, laws, the land. in the government of saratov, out of fourteen deputies elected, there were twelve socialist-revolutionists; there were others (such as the government of pensa, for example) that elected _only_ socialist-revolutionists. the bolsheviki had the majority only in petrograd and moscow and in certain units of the army. the elections to the constituent assembly were a decisive victory for the revolutionary socialist party. such was the response of russia to the bolshevik _coup d'état_. to violence and conquest of power by force of arms, the population answered by the elections to the constituent assembly; the people sent to this assembly, not the bolsheviki, but, by an overwhelming majority, socialist-revolutionists. vii _the fight against the bolsheviki_ but the final result of the elections was not established forthwith. in many places the elections had to be postponed. the bolshevik _coup d'état_ had disorganized life, had upset postal and telegraphic communications, and had even destroyed, in certain localities, the electoral mechanism itself by the arrest of the active workers. the elections which began in the middle of november were not concluded till toward the month of january. in the mean time, in the country a fierce battle was raging against the bolsheviki. it was not, on the part of their adversaries, a fight for power. if the socialist-revolutionists had wished they could have seized the power; to do that they had only to follow the example of those who were called "the revolutionary socialists of the left." not only did they not follow their example, but they also excluded them from their midst. a short time after the bolshevik insurrection, when the part taken in this insurrection by certain revolutionary socialists of the left was found out, the central committee of the revolutionary socialist party voted to exclude them from the party for having violated the party discipline and having adopted tactics contrary to its principles. this exclusion was confirmed afterward by the fourth congress of the party, which took place in december, . soon after the _coup d'état_ of october the question was among all parties and all organizations: "what is to be done? how will the situation be remedied?" the remedy included three points. first, creation of a power composed of the representatives of all socialist organizations, with the "populist-socialists" on the extreme right, and with the express condition that the principal actors in the bolshevik _coup d'état_ would not have part in the ministry. second, immediate establishment of the democratic liberties, which were trampled under foot by the bolsheviki, without which any form of socialism is inconceivable. third, convocation without delay of the constituent assembly. such were the conditions proposed to the bolsheviki in the name of several socialist parties (the revolutionary socialist party, the mensheviki, the populist-socialists, etc.), and of several democratic organizations (railroad workers' union, postal and telegraphic employees' union, etc.). the bolsheviki, at this time, were not sure of being able to hold their position; certain commissaries of the people, soon after they were installed in power, handed in their resignation, being terrified by the torrents of blood that were shed at moscow and by the cruelties which accompanied the _coup d'état_. the bolsheviki pretended to accept the pourparlers, but kept them dragging along so as to gain time. in the mean time they tried to strengthen themselves in the provinces, where they gained victories such as that of saratov; they actively rushed the pourparlers for peace; they had to do it at all cost, even if, in doing it, they had to accept the assistance of the traitor and spy, by name schneur, for they had promised peace to the soldiers. for this it sufficed them to have gained some victories in the provinces, and that the germans accepted the proposition of pourparlers of peace ("the german generals came to meet us in gala attire, wearing their ribbons and decorations," with triumph announced in their appeal to the russian people the representatives of this "socialist" government schneur & co.), for this the bolsheviki henceforth refused every compromise and all conference with the other parties. for the other parties--those who did not recognize the bolshevik _coup d'état_ and did not approve of the violence that was perpetrated--there was only one alternative, the fight. it was the revolutionary socialist party and the national soviet of peasants' delegates that had to bear the brunt of this fight, which was carried on under extremely difficult conditions. all the non-bolshevik newspapers were confiscated or prosecuted and deprived of every means of reaching the provinces; their editors' offices and printing establishments were looted. after the creation of the "revolutionary tribunal," the authors of articles that were not pleasing to the bolsheviki, as well as the directors of the newspapers, were brought to judgment and condemned to make amends or go to prison, etc. the premises of numerous organizations were being constantly pillaged; the red guard came there to search, destroying different documents; frequently objects which were found on the premises disappeared. thus were looted the premises of the central committee of the revolutionary socialist party ( galernaia street), and, several times, the offices of the paper _dielo narvda_ ( litcinaia street), as well as the office of the "league for the defense of the constituent assembly," the premises of the committees of divers sections of the revolutionary socialist party, the office of the paper _volia naroda_, etc. leaders of the different parties were arrested. the arrest of the whole central committee of the revolutionary socialist party was to be carried out as well as the arrest of all the socialist-revolutionists, and of all the mensheviki in sight. the bolshevist press became infuriated, exclaiming against the "counter-revolution," against their "complicity" with kornilov and kalodine. all those who did not adhere to the bolsheviki were indignant at the sight of the crimes committed, and wished to defend the constituent assembly. knowingly, and in a premeditated manner, the bolshevist press excited the soldiers and the workmen against all other parties. and then when the unthinking masses, drunk with flattery and hatred, committed acts of lynching, the bolshevist leaders expressed sham regrets! thus it was after the death of doukhonine, who was cut to pieces by the sailors; and thus it was after the dastardly assassination of the cadets, shingariev and kokochkine, after the shootings _en masse_ and the drowning of the officers. it was under these conditions that the fight was carried on; and the brunt of it, as i have already stated, was sustained by the revolutionary socialist party and the national soviet of peasants' delegates, and it was against these two that the bolsheviki were particularly infuriated. "now it is not the cadets who are dangerous to us," said they, "but the socialist-revolutionists--these traitors, these enemies of the people." the most sacred names of the revolution were publicly trampled under foot by them. their cynicism went so far as to accuse breshkovskaya, "the grandmother of the russian revolution," of having sold out to the americans. personally i had the opportunity to hear a bolshevist orator, a member of the executive committee of the soviet of workmen's and soldiers' delegates, express this infamous calumny at a meeting organized by the preobrajenski regiment. the bolsheviki tried, by every means, to crush the party, to reduce it to a clandestine existence. but the central committee declared that it would continue to fight against violence--and that in an open manner; it continued to issue a daily paper, only changing its title, as in the time of czarism, and thus continued its propaganda in the factories, and helped to form public opinion, etc. at the fourth congress of the party, which took place in december, the delegates from the provinces, where the despotism of the bolsheviki was particularly violent, raised the question of introducing terrorist methods in the fight against the bolsheviki. "from the time that the party is placed in a fight under conditions which differ nothing from those of czarism, ancient methods are to be resumed; violence must be opposed to violence," they said. but the congress spurned this means; the revolutionary socialist party did not adopt the methods of terrorism; it could not do it, because the bolsheviki were, after all, followed by the masses--unthinking, it is true, but the masses, nevertheless. it is by educating them, and not by the use of violence, that they are to be fought against. terrorist acts could bring nothing but a bloody suppression. viii _the second peasant congress_ in the space of a month a great amount of work was accomplished. a breach was made in the general misunderstanding. moral help was assured to the constituent assembly on the part of the workmen and part of the soldiers of petrograd. there was no longer any confidence placed in the bolsheviki. besides, the agitation was not the only cause of this change. the workers soon came to understand that the bolshevik tactics could only irritate and disgust the great mass of the population, that the bolsheviki were not the representatives of the workers, that their promises of land, of peace, and other earthly goods were only a snare. the industrial production diminished more and more; numerous factories and shops closed their doors and thousands of workmen found themselves on the streets. the population of petrograd, which, at first, received a quarter of a pound of bread per day (a black bread made with straw), had now but one-eighth of a pound, while in the time of kerensky the ration was half a pound. the other products (oatmeal, butter, eggs, milk) were entirely lacking or cost extremely high prices. one ruble fifty copecks for a pound of potatoes, six rubles a pound of meat, etc. the transportation of products to petrograd had almost ceased. the city was on the eve of famine. the workers were irritated by the violence and the arbitrary manner of the bolsheviki, and by the exploits of the red guard, well paid, enjoying all the privileges, well nourished, well clothed, and well shod in the midst of a petrograd starving and in rags. discontent manifested itself also among the soldiers of the preobrajenski and litovsky regiments, and others. in this manner in the day of the meeting of the constituent assembly they were no longer very numerous. what loud cries, nevertheless, they had sent forth lately when kerensky wished to send the preobrajenski and seminovski regiments from petrograd! "what? send the revolutionary regiments from petrograd? to make easier the surrender of the capital to the counter-revolution?" the soldiers of the preobrajenski regiment organized in their barracks frequent meetings, where the acts of the bolsheviki were sharply criticized; they started a paper, _the soldiers' cloak_, which was confiscated. on the other hand, here is one of the resolutions voted by the workers of the putilov factory: the constituent assembly is the only organ expressing the will of the entire people. it alone is able to reconstitute the unity of the country. the majority of the deputies to the constituent assembly who had for some time been elected had arrived in petrograd, and the bolsheviki always retarded the opening. the socialist-revolutionist fraction started conferences with the other fractions on the necessity for fixing a day for the opening of the constituante, without waiting the good pleasure of the commissaries of the people. they chose the date, december th, but the opening could not take place on that day, the ukrainian fraction having suddenly abandoned the majority to join themselves to the bolsheviki and the revolutionary socialists of the left. finally, the government fixed the opening of the constituent assembly for the th ( th) of january. here is a document which relates this fight for the date of the opening of the constituante: _bulletin of members of the constituent assembly belonging to the socialist-revolutionist fraction. no. , dec. , ._ _to all the citizens_: the socialist-revolutionist fraction of the constituent assembly addresses the whole people the present exposé of the reasons for which the constituent assembly has not been opened until this day: it warns them, at the same time, of the danger which threatens the sovereign rights of the people. let it be thus placed in clear daylight, the true character of those who, under pretext of following the well-being of the workers, forge new chains for liberated russia, those who attempt to assassinate the constituent assembly, which alone is able to save russia from the foreign yoke and from the despotism which has been born within. let all the citizens know that the hour is near when they must be ready to rise like one man for the defense of their liberty and their constituent assembly. for, citizens, your salvation is solely in your own hands. citizens! you know that on the day assigned for the opening of the constituent assembly, november th, all the socialist-revolutionist deputies who were elected had come to petrograd. you know that neither violence of a usurping power nor arrests of our comrades, by force of arms which were opposed to us at the taurida palace, could prevent us from assembling and fulfilling our duty. but the civil war which has spread throughout the country retarded the election to the constituent assembly and the number of deputies elected was insufficient. it was necessary to postpone the opening of the constituent assembly. our fraction utilized this forced delay by an intensive preparatory work. we elaborated, in several commissions, projects of law concerning all the fundamental questions that the constituante would have to solve. we adopted the project of our fundamental law on the question of the land; we elaborated the measures which the constituante would have to take from the very first day in order to arrive at a truly democratic peace, so necessary to our country; we discussed the principles which should direct the friendly dwelling together of all the nationalities which people russia and assure each people a national point of view, the free disposition of itself, thus putting an end to the fratricidal war. our fraction would have been all ready for the day of the opening of the constituante, in order to commence, from the first, a creative work and give to the impoverished country peace, bread, land, and liberty. at the same time, we did our utmost to accelerate the arrival of the deputies and the opening of the assembly. during this time events became more and more menacing every day, the bolshevik power was more rapidly leading our country to its fall. from before the time when the germans had presented their conditions of peace the bolsheviki had destroyed the army, suppressed its provisioning, and stripped the front, while at the same time by civil war and the looting of the savings of the people they achieved the economic ruin of the country. actually, they recognized themselves that the german conditions were unacceptable and invited the reconstruction of the army. in spite of this, these criminals do not retire; they will achieve their criminal work. russia suffers in the midst of famine, of civil war, and enemy invasion which threatens to reach even the heart of the country. no delay is permissible. our fraction fixed on the th of december the last delay for the opening of the constituante; on this day more than half of the deputies could have arrived in petrograd. we entered into conference with the other fractions. the ukrainians, some other national fractions, and the menshevik social democrats adhered to our resolution. the revolutionary socialists of the left hypocritically declared themselves partizans of an early opening of the constituante. but behold, the council of the so-called "commissaries of the people" fixed the opening for the th of january. _at the same time they called for the th of january a congress of the soviets of workmen's and soldiers' delegates, thus hoping to be able to trick and to cover with the name of this congress their criminal acts_. the object of this postponement is clear; they did not even hide it and threatened to dissolve the constituent assembly in case that it did not submit to the bolshevik congress of soviets. the same threat was repeated by those who are called socialist-revolutionists of the left. the delegation of the ukrainian revolutionary socialists abandoned us also and submitted to the order for the convocation on january th, considering that the fight of the bolshevik power against the constituent assembly is an internal question, which interests only greater russia. citizens! we shall be there, too, on january th, so that the least particle of responsibility for the sabotage of the constituent assembly may not fall upon us. but we do not think that we can suspend our activity with regard to the speediest possible opening of the constituent assembly. we address an energetic appeal to all the deputies; in the name of the fatherland, in the name of the revolution, in the name of the duty which devolves upon you by reason of your election, come, all, to petrograd! on the st of january all the deputies present will decide on the day for the opening of the constituent assembly. we appeal to you, citizens! remind your elected representatives of their duty. and remember that your salvation is solely in your own hands, a mortal danger threatens the constituent assembly; be all ready to rise in its defense! the revolutionary socialist fraction of the constituent assembly. on the d of january the league for the defense of the constituent assembly held a meeting at which were present delegates, representing the socialist parties as well as various democratic organizations and many factories--that of putilov, that of oboukhov, and still others from the outskirts of narva, from the districts of viborg, spassky, and petrogradsky, from the isle vassily. it was decided to organize for january th a peaceful display in honor of the opening of the constituent assembly. the bolsheviki answered this by furious articles in the _pravda_, urging the people not to spare the counter-revolutionaries, these bourgeoisie who intend, by means of their constituante, to combat the revolutionary people. they advised the people of petrograd not to go out on the streets that day. "we shall act without reserve," they added. sailors were called from cronstadt; cruisers and torpedo-boats came. an order was issued to the sailors and to the red guards who patrolled all the works of the taurida, to make use of their arms if any one attempted to enter the palace. for that day unlimited powers were accorded to the military authorities. at the same time an assembly of the representatives of the garrison at petrograd, fixed for that day, was proscribed, and the newspaper, _the soldiers' cloak_, was suppressed. a congress of soviets was called for the th of january. they prepared the dissolution of the constituent assembly and they wanted to place the congress before the accomplished fact. the executive committee of the soviet of peasants' delegates, and the central executive committee of the soviets of workmen's and soldiers' delegates chosen at the first elections answered by the two following appeals: peasant comrades! the bolsheviki have fixed the th of january for the opening of the constituent assembly; for the th of january they call the iii congress of the soviets of workmen's and soldiers' delegates, and for the th the peasant congress. the peasants are, by design, relegated to the background. an outrage against the constituent assembly is being prepared. in this historic moment the peasants cannot remain aloof. the provisional executive committee of the national soviet of peasants' delegates, which goes on duty as a guard to the constituent assembly, has decided to call, on the th of january, also, the third national congress of the soviets of peasants' delegates. the representation remains the same as before. send your delegates at once to petrograd, grand bolotnai, a. the fate of the constituent assembly is the fate of russia, the fate of the revolution. all up for the defense of the constituent assembly, for the defense of the revolution--not by word alone, but by acts! [signed] _the provisional executive committee of the national soviet of peasants' delegates, upholding the principle of the defense of the constituent assembly_. appeal of the central executive committee of the soviets of workmen's and soldiers' delegates, chosen at the first elections to all the soviets of workmen's and soldiers' delegates, to all the committees of the army and of the navy, to all the organizations associated with the soviets and committees, to all the members of the socialist-revolutionist and menshevist social democratic fractions who left the second congress of soviets: comrades, workmen, and soldiers! our cry of alarm is addressed to all those to whom the work of the soviets is dear. know that a traitorous blow threatens the revolutionary fatherland, the constituent assembly, and even the work of the soviets. your duty is to prepare yourselves for their defense. the central executive committee, nominated at the october congress, calls together for the th of january a congress of soviets, destined to bungle the constituent assembly. comrades! the second congress of soviets assembled at the end of october, under conditions particularly unfavorable, at the time that the bolshevik party, won over by its leaders to a policy of adventure, a plot unbecoming a class organization, executed at petrograd a _coup d'état_ which gave it power; at a time when certain groups with the same viewpoint disorganized even the method of convocation of the second congress, thus openly aspiring to falsify the results; at this same congress the regular representatives of the army were lacking (only two armies being represented), and the soviets of the provinces were very insufficiently represented (only about out of ). under these conditions it is but natural that the central executive committee of the soviets chosen at the first election would not recognize the right of this congress to decide the politics of the soviets. however, in spite of the protestations, and even of the departure of a great number of delegates (those of the revolutionary socialist fraction, mensheviki, and populist-socialists), a new executive committee of the soviets was elected. to consider this last as the central director of all the soviets of the country was absolutely impossible. the delegates who remained in the congress formed only an assembly of a group with a little fraction of the revolutionary socialists of the left, who had given their adhesion to them. thus the central committee named by their conference could not be considered except as representatives of these two groups only. bringing to the organization of soviets an unheard-of disorder, establishing by their shameful methods of fighting its domination over the soviets, some of which were taken by surprise, the others terrorized and broken in their personnel, deceiving the working class and the army by its short-sighted policy of adventure, the new executive committee during the two months that have since passed has attempted to subject all the soviets of russia to its influence. it succeeded in part in this, in the measure in which the confidence of the groups which constituted it in the policy was not yet exhausted. but a considerable portion of the soviets, as well as fractions of other soviets, fractions composed of the most devoted and experienced fighters, continued to follow the only true revolutionary road; to develop the class organization of the working masses, to direct their intellectual and political life, to develop the political and social aspects of the revolution, to exert, by all the power of the working class organized into soviets, the necessary pressure to attain the end that it proposed. the questions of peace and of war, that of the organization of production and of food-supply, and that of the fight for the constituent assembly are in the first place. the policy of adventure of the groups which seized the power is on the eve of failure. peace could not be realized by a rupture with the allies and an entente with the imperialistic orb of the central powers. by reason of this failure of the policy of the commissaires of the people, of the disorganization of production (which, among other things, has had as a result the creation of hundreds of thousands of unemployed), by reason of the civil war kindled in the country and the absence of a power recognized by the whole people, the central powers tend to take hold in the most cynical fashion of a whole series of western provinces (poland, lithuania, courland), and to subject the whole country to their complete economic, if not political, domination. the question of provisioning has taken on an unheard-of acuteness; the gross interference in the functioning of organs already created for this object, and the civil war kindled everywhere throughout the country, have completely demoralized the provisioning of wheat in regions where they had none, the north and the army are found on the eve of famine. industry is dying. hundreds of factories and workshops are stopped. the short-sighted policy of the commissaries has caused hundreds of workmen to be thrown on the streets and become unemployed. the will of the entire people is threatened with being violated. the usurpers who in october got hold of the power by launching the word of order for a swift convocation of the constituent assembly strive hard, now that the elections are over, to retain the power in their hands by arresting the deputies and dissolving the constituante itself. _all that which the country holds of life, and in the first place all the working class and all the army, ought to rise with arms in their hands to defend the popular power represented by the constituante, which must bring peace to the people and consolidate by legislative means the revolutionary conquests of the working class._ in bringing this to your knowledge, the central committee chosen at the first elections invites you, comrades, to place yourself immediately in agreement with it. considering the congress of october as incompetent, the central committee chosen at the first elections has decided to begin a preparatory work in view of the convocation of a new congress of the soviets of workmen's and soldiers' delegates. in the near future, while the commissaires of the people, in the persons of lenine and trotzky, are going to fight against the sovereign power of the constituent assembly, we shall have to intervene with all our energy in the conflict artificially encited by the adventurers, between that assembly and the soviets. _it will be our task to aid the soviets in taking consciousness of their rôle, in defining their political lines, and in determining their functions and those of the constituante._ comrades! the convocation of the congress for the th of january is dictated by the desire to provoke a conflict between the soviets and the constituante, and thus botch this last. anxious for the fate of the country, the executive committee chosen at the first elections decides to convoke at petrograd for the th of january an extraordinary assembly of _all the soviets, all the committees of the army and the navy, all the fractions of the soviets and military committees, all the organizations that cluster around the soviets and the committees that are standing upon the ground of the defense of the constituante._ the following are the orders of the day: . the power of the constituent assembly. . the fight for the general democratic peace and the re-establishment of the international. . the immediate problems of the policy of the soviets. comrades! assure for this extraordinary assembly of soviets the most complete representation of all the organizations of workmen and soldiers. establish at once election centers. we have a fight to uphold. in the name of the revolution, all the reason and all the energy ought to be thrown into the balance. the central executive committee of soviets of workmen's and soldiers' delegates chosen at the first elections. _ december, ._ ix _the manifestation of january th at petrograd_ from eleven o'clock in the morning cortèges, composed principally of working-men bearing red flags and placards with inscriptions such as "proletarians of all countries, unite!" "land and liberty!" "long live the constituent assembly!" etc., set out from different parts of the city. the members of the executive committee of the soviet of peasants' delegates had agreed to meet at the field, of mars where a procession coming from the petrogradsky quarter was due to arrive. it was soon learned that a part of the participants, coming from the viborg quarter, had been assailed at the liteiny bridge by gunfire from the red guards and were obliged to turn back. but that did not check the other parades. the peasant participants, united with the workers from petrogradsky quarter, came to the field of mars; after having lowered their flags before the tombs of the revolution of february and sung a funeral hymn to their memory, they installed themselves on liteinaia street. new manifestants came to join them and the street was crowded with people. at the corner of fourstatskaia street (one of the streets leading to the taurida palace) they found themselves all at once assailed by shots from the red guards. the red guard fired _without warning_, something that never before happened, even in the time of czarism. the police always began by inviting the participators to disperse. among the first victims was a member of the executive committee of the soviet of peasants' delegates, the siberian peasant, logvinov. an explosive bullet shot away half of his head (a photograph of his body was taken; it was added to the documents which were transferred to the commission of inquiry). several workmen and students and one militant of the revolutionary socialist party, gorbatchevskaia, were killed at the same time. other processions of participants on their way to the taurida palace were fired into at the same time. on all the streets leading to the palace, groups of red guards had been established; they received the order "not to spare the cartridges." on that day at petrograd there were one hundred killed and wounded. it must be noted that when, at a session of the constituent assembly, in the taurida palace, they learned of this shooting, m. steinberg, commissioner of justice, declared in the corridor that it was a lie, that he himself had visited the streets of petrograd and had found everywhere that "all was quiet." exactly as the ministers of nicholas romanov after the suppressions said "lie. lie," so cried the bolsheviki and the revolutionary socialists of the left, in response to the question formally put on the subject of the shooting by a member of the constituent assembly. the following day the bolshevik organs and those of the revolutionary socialists of the left passed over these facts in silence. this silence they kept also on the th of january, the day on which literally all petrograd assembled at the funeral of the victims. public indignation, however, obliged them in the end to admit that there had been some small groups of participants and to name a commission of inquiry concerning the street disorders which had taken place on january th. this commission was very dilatory in the performance of its duty and it is very doubtful if they ever came to any decision. analogous manifestations took place at moscow, at saratov and other cities; everywhere they were accompanied by shootings. the number of victims was particularly considerable at moscow. x _at the taurida palace on the day of the opening of the constituent assembly_ the taurida palace on that day presented a strange aspect. at every door, in the corridors, in the halls, everywhere soldiers and sailors and red guards armed with guns and hand-grenades, who at every turn demanded your pass. it was no easy matter to get into the palace. nearly all the places reserved for the public were occupied by the bolsheviki and their friends. the appearance of the taurida palace was not that of a place where the free representatives of a free people were going to assemble. the bolsheviki delayed as much as possible the opening of the session. it was only at four o'clock instead of at midday that they deigned to make up their minds. they and the revolutionary socialists of the left occupied seats of the extreme left; then came the revolutionary socialists, the mensheviki, and the other socialist fractions. the seats on the right remained vacant. the few cadets that had been chosen preferred not to come. in this manner the constituent assembly was composed at this first and last session solely of socialists. this, however, did not prevent the presence in the corridors and the session hail of a crowd of sailors and red guards armed, as if it were a question of an assembly of conspirators, enemies of the revolution. from the beginning a fight was started by the election of president. the majority nominated for the office of president chernov; the bolsheviki and the revolutionary socialists of the left voted against him. the bolsheviki did not propose any candidate of their own, and placed before the members the candidacy of a revolutionary socialist of the left, marie spiridonova, who was totally incapable of fulfilling this rôle. afterward several declarations were read--that of the bolsheviki, that of the socialist-revolutionists (read by chernov), that of the mensheviki (read by tseretelli). the partizans of each fraction greeted the reading of their own declaration with deafening applause (for the audience was one of "comrades" and did not hesitate to take part in the debates); cat-calls and shouts greeted the orators of the opposing fractions. each word of the declarations of the socialist-revolutionists and of the mensheviki (declarations which every socialist could sign) was received with a round of hisses, shouts, deafening cries, exclamations of contempt for the bolsheviki, the sailors, and the soldiers. the speech of chernov--president and member of a detested party--had above all the honor of such a greeting. as for tseretelli, he was at first greeted by an inconceivable din, but was able afterward--his speech was so full of profound sense--to capture the attention of the bolsheviki themselves. a general impression that was extremely distressing came from this historic session. the attitude of the bolsheviki was grossly unbecoming and provocative of disdain. it indicated clearly that the dissolution of the constituante was, for them, already decided. lenine, who continually kept contemptuous silence, wound up by stretching himself upon his bench and pretending to sleep. lunotcharsky from his ministerial bench pointed contemptuously with his finger toward the white hair of a veteran of the revolutionary socialist party. the sailors leveled the muzzles of their revolvers at the socialist-revolutionists. the audience laughed, whistled, and shouted. the bolsheviki finally left the assembly, followed, as might be understood, by their servants, the revolutionary socialists of the left. the fractions which remained voted the law proposed by the socialist-revolutionists on the transfer of the lands to common ownership (socialization of the soil). the sailors and red guards attempted several times to interrupt the session. at five o'clock in the morning they finally demanded with a loud voice that everybody leave. "we were obliged to go," said, later, the members of the constituent assembly at a meeting of the executive committee of the soviet of peasants' delegates in recounting these tragic moments, "not that we were afraid of being shot; we were prepared for that, and each one of us expected it, but fear of something else which is far worse: for fear of insults and gross violence. we were only a handful; what was that beside those great big fellows full of malice toward the constituante and of defiance for the 'enemies of the people,' the 'servants of the bourgeoisie,' which we were in their eyes, thanks to the lies and the calumnies of the bolsheviki? careful of our dignity, and out of respect for the place where we were, we could not permit ourselves to be cuffed, nor that they throw us out of the taurida palace by force--and that is what would have inevitably happened." it was thus that the constituent assembly ended. the socialist-revolutionist fraction maintained an attitude of surprising calm and respectful bearing, not allowing itself to be disturbed by any provocation. the correspondents of foreign newspapers congratulated the members and said to them that in this session to which the bolsheviki had wished to give the character of "any-old-kind-of-a-meeting" all the fractions maintained a truly parliamentary attitude. the bolshevik terror became rife. _all the newspapers that tried to open the eyes of the people as to what was happening were confiscated_. every attempt to circulate the _dielo naroda_ or other newspapers of the opposition was severely punished. the volunteer venders of these papers were arrested, cruelly struck down by rifle butts, and sometimes even shot. the population, indignant, gathered in groups on the streets, but the red guards dispersed all assemblages. xi _the dissolution of the third all-russian peasants' congress_ this is the course of the events which followed the dissolution of the constituante. on the th of january the members of the constituante assembled at bolotnaia; two were arrested; the premises of the fraction were occupied by the red guards. on the th of january took place the funeral of the victims, in which all petrograd took part. the bolsheviki this time did not dare to shoot into the magnificent procession preceded by a long line of coffins. the th of january they dispersed the third all-russian congress of peasants which had placed itself on the side of the constituent assembly. the congress had been at first arranged for the th of january (the same day as the bolshevik congress of the soviets), but, because of the events, it was postponed to the th. the peasants who had come to this congress knew perfectly well that they would have a fight to uphold, perhaps even to give their lives. their neighbors, their co-villagers, wept when they saw them set out, as if it were a question of men condemned to death. that alone suffices to show to what degree were conscious these peasants who had come from all corners of the country to prepare themselves for the defense of the constituent assembly. as soon as the congress was opened sailors and red guards, armed with guns and hand-grenades, broke into the premises ( kirillovskaia street), surrounded the house, poured into the corridors and the session hall, and ordered all persons to leave. "in whose name do you order us, who are delegates to the peasants' congress of all-russia, to disperse?" asked the peasants. "in the name of the baltic fleet," the soldiers replied. the peasants refused; cries of protest were raised. one by one the peasant delegates ascended the tribune to stigmatize the bolsheviki in speeches full of indignation, and to express the hopes that they placed in the constituent assembly. the sailors listened. they had come to disperse a counter-revolutionary congress, and these speeches troubled them. one sailor, not able to stand it any longer, burst into tears. "let me speak!" he shouted to the president. "i hear your speeches, peasant comrades, and i no longer understand anything.... what is going on? we are peasants, and you, too, are peasants. but we are of this side, and you are of the other.... why? who has separated us? for we are brothers.... but it is as if a barrier had been placed between us." he wept and, seizing his revolver, he exclaimed, "no, i would rather kill myself!" this session of the congress presented a strange spectacle, disturbed by men who confessed that they did not know why they were there; the peasants sang revolutionary songs; the sailors, armed with guns and grenades, joined them. then the peasants knelt down to sing a funeral hymn to the memory of logvinov, whose coffin was even yesterday within the room. the soldiers, lowering their guns, knelt down also. the bolshevik authorities became excited; they did not expect such a turn to events. "enough said," declared the chief; "we have come not to speak, but to act. if they do not want to go to smolny, let them get out of here." and they set themselves to the task. in groups of five the peasants were conducted down-stairs, trampled on, and, on their refusal to go to smolny, pushed out of doors during the night in the midst of the enormous city of which they knew nothing. members of the executive committee were arrested, the premises occupied by sailors and red guards, the objects found therein stolen. the peasants found shelter in the homes of the inhabitants of petrograd, who, indignant, offered them hospitality; a certain number were lodged in the barracks of the preobrajenski regiment. the sailors, who but a few minutes before had sung a funeral hymn to logvinov, and wept when they saw that they understood nothing, now became the docile executors of the orders of the bolsheviki. and when they were asked, "why do you do this?" they answered as in the time, still recent, of czarism: "it is the order. no need to talk." it was thus there was manifested the habit of servile obedience, of arbitrary power and violence, which had been taking root for several centuries; under a thin veneer of revolution one finds the servile and violent man of yesterday. in the midst of these exceptional circumstances the peasants gave proof of that obstinacy and energy in the pursuit of their rights for which they are noted. thrown out in the middle of the night, robbed, insulted, they decided, nevertheless, to continue their congress. "how, otherwise, can we go home?" said they. "we must come to an understanding as to what is to be done." the members of the executive committee who were still free succeeded in finding new premises (let it be noted that among others the workmen of the big oboukhovsky factory offered them hospitality), and during three days the peasants could assemble secretly by hiding themselves from the eyes of the red guard, and the spies in various quarters of petrograd, until such time as the decisions were given on all great questions. _a procès-verbal was prepared concerning all that had taken place on kirillovskaia street. a declaration was made protesting against the acts of the bolshevik government_. this declaration was to be read at the taurida palace when the soviets were in congress by delegates designated for that purpose. the bolsheviki, however, would not permit the delegates to enter the taurida palace. here are the texts of the declaration and of the procès-verbal: at the third national congress of soviets of peasants' delegates grouped around the principle of the defense of the constituent assembly, this declaration was sent to the congress of workmen's, soldiers' and peasants' delegates called together by the bolshevist government at the taurida palace: at the second national peasants' congress the delegates who had come together for the defense of the constituent assembly continued the work of the congress and elected a provisional executive committee, independently of the delegates who had opposed the power of the constituent assembly and adhered to the bolsheviki. we, peasant delegates, having come to petrograd, more than in number, to participate in a congress called by the provisional executive committee, which is that of those of the soviets which acknowledge the principle of the defense of the constituent assembly, declare to our electors, to the millions of the peasant population, and to the whole country, that the actual government which is called "the government of the peasants and workmen" has established in their integrity the violence, the arbitrariness, and all the horrors of the autocratic régime which was overthrown by the great revolution of february. all the liberties attained by that revolution and won by innumerable sacrifices during several generations are scouted and trodden under foot. liberty of opinion does not exist; men who under the government of the czar had paid by years of prison and exile for their devotedness to the revolutionary cause are now again thrown into the dungeons of fortresses without any accusation whatever, of anything of which they might be guilty, being made to them. again spies and informers are in action. again capital punishment is re-established in its most horrible forms; shooting on the streets and assassinations without judgment or examination. _peaceful processions, on their way to salute the constituent assembly, are greeted by a fusillade of shots upon the orders of the autocrats of smolny. the liberty of the press does not exist; the papers which displease the bolsheviki are suppressed, their printing plants and offices looted, their editors arrested._ the organizations which, during the preceding months, were established with great difficulty--zemstvos, municipalities, agricultural and food committees--are foolishly destroyed in an excess of savage fanaticism. the bolsheviki even try to kill the supreme representation, the only one legitimately established, of the popular will--the constituent assembly. to justify this violence and this tyranny they try to allege the well-being of the people, but we, peasant workers, we see well that their policy will only tighten the cord around the workers' necks, while the possibility of a democratic peace becomes more remote every day; matters have come to the point where the bolsheviki proclaim a further mobilization--of salaried volunteers, it is true--to renew the hostilities. they strive to represent the war with ukraine and with the cossacks under the aspect of a war of classes; it is not, however, the bourgeoisie, but the representatives of the working classes who are killed on one side and on the other. they promised the socialist régime, and they have only destroyed the production of the factories so as to leave the population without product and throw the workers into an army of unemployed; the horrible specter of famine occupies the void left by the broken organizations of food-supply; millions of the money of the people are squandered in maintaining a red guard--or sent to germany to keep up the agitation there, while the wives and the widows of our soldiers no longer receive an allowance, there being no money in the treasury, and are obliged to live on charity. the russian country is threatened with ruin. death knocks at the doors of the hovels of the workmen. by what forces have the bolsheviki thus killed our country? twelve days before the organization of the autonomous administration was achieved and the elections to the constituent assembly begun, at the time when there had been organized all the autonomous administrations of volosts, districts, governments, and cities, chosen by equal, direct, and secret universal suffrage, thus assuring the realization of the will of the people and justifying the confidence of the population--even then they seized the power and established a régime which subjects all the institutions of the country to the unlicensed power of the commissaries of the people. _and these commissaries rely upon the soviets, which were chosen at elections that were carried out according to rank, with open balloting and inequality of vote, for therein the peasants count only as many representatives as the workmen of the cities, although in russia their number is sixty times greater_. absence of control permits every abuse of power; absence of secret voting permits that into these soviets at these suspicious elections some enter who are attracted by the political rôle of these institutions; the defeat of inequality in the suffrage restrains the expression of the will of the peasants, and, accordingly, these cannot have confidence in this system of government. the tyranny that presided at these elections was such that the bolsheviki themselves pay no attention to the results, and declare that the soviets that are opposed to themselves are bourgeoisie and capitalists. we, representing the peasant workers, must declare in the name of our constituents: if anything can save russia, it can only be the re-establishment of the organs of local autonomous administration, chosen by equal, direct, and secret universal suffrage and the resumption, without delay, of the work of the constituent assembly. the constituent assembly alone can express the exact will of the working-people, for the system of election which governs it includes every measure of precaution against violence, corruption, and other abuses, and assures the election of deputies chosen by the majority; now, in the country, the majority is composed of the working class. millions of peasants delegated us to defend the constituante, but this was dissolved as soon as it began to work for the good of the people. the work of the constituante was interrupted at the time that it was discussing the law concerning land, when a new agricultural régime was being elaborated for the country. for this reason, and for this alone, the constituante adopted only the first articles of this law, articles which established the definite transfer of all the land to the hands of the workers, without any ransom. the other articles of this law, which concerned the order of the apportionment of lots, its forms, its methods of possession, etc., could not be adopted, although they were completely elaborated in the commission and nothing remained but to sanction them. we, peasants assembled in congress, we, too, have been the object of violence and outrages, unheard of even under the czarist régime. red guards and sailors, armed, invaded our premises. we were searched in the rudest manner. our goods and the provisions which we had brought from home were stolen. several of our comrade-delegates and all the members of the committee were arrested and taken to peter and paul fortress. we ourselves were, late at night, put out of doors in a city which we did not know, deprived of shelter under which to sleep. all that, to oblige us either to go to smolny, where the bolshevist government called another congress, or to return to our homes without having attained any result. but violence could not stop us; secretly, as in the time of czarist autocracy, we found a place to assemble and to continue our work. in making known these facts to the country and the numerous millions of the peasant population, we call upon them to stigmatize the revolting policy practised by the bolshevik government with regard to all those who are not in accord with it. returned to our villages, dispersed in every corner of immense russia, we shall use all our powers to make known to the mass of peasants and to the entire country the truth concerning this government of violence; to make known in every corner of the fatherland that the actual government, which has the hardihood to call itself "government of the workmen and peasants," in reality shoots down workmen and peasants and shamelessly scoffs at the country. we shall use all our strength to induce the population of peasant workers to demand an account from this government of violence, as well as from their prodigal children, their sons and brothers, who in the army and navy give aid to these autocrats in the commission of violence. in the name of millions of peasants, by whom we were delegated, we demand that they no longer obstruct the work of the constituent assembly. we were not allowed to finish the work for which we had come; at home we shall continue this work. we shall employ all our strength to effect, as soon as possible, the convocation of a new national congress of peasants' delegates united on the principle of the defense of the constituante, and that in a place where we need not fear a new dissolution. lately we fought against autocracy and czarist violence; we shall fight with no less energy against the new autocrats who practise violence, whoever they may be, and whatever may be the shibboleths by which they cover their criminal acts. we shall fight for the constituent assembly, because it is in that alone that we see the salvation of our country, that of the revolution, and that of land and liberty. charged by our constituents to defend the constituent assembly, we cannot participate in a congress called by those who have dissolved it; who have profaned the idea which to the people is something sacred; who have shot down the defenders of true democracy; who have shed the sacred blood of our logvinov, member of the executive committee of peasant deputies, who on the th of january was killed by an explosive bullet during a peaceful manifestation, bearing the flag "land and liberty." comrade-peasants who have come by chance to this congress declare to these violators that the only executive committee that upholds the idea of the defense of the constituante forms a center around which are grouped all the peasant workers. we call the entire mass of peasants to the work that is common to all--the fight for "land and liberty," for the true government of the people. "we all come from the people, children of the same family of workers," and we all have to follow a route that leads to happiness and liberty. now this road, which leads to "land and liberty," goes through the constituent assembly alone. the constituent assembly was dissolved, but it was chosen by the entire people, and it ought to live. _long live the constituent assembly!_ _down with violence and tyranny!_ _all power to the people, through the agency of the_ _constituent assembly!_ [signed] the third national congress of soviets of peasant delegates, united on the principle of the defense of the constituent assembly. procÈs-verbal of the session of the iii national congress of soviets of peasants' delegates, united on the principle of the defense of the constituent assembly the provisional executive committee of soviets of peasants' delegates nominated by the fraction of the second national congress of these soviets, which, to the number of delegates, was organized on the basis of the principle of the defense of the constituent assembly, had addressed to all the soviets an appeal inviting those who believe in the defense of the constituante to send representatives to the third congress, fixed by the committee for the th of january, and destined to offset the congress called for the th of january by the committee of that fraction of the congress which, to the number of votes, took sides against the power of the constituent assembly and joined the bolsheviki. the peasants' congress, meeting by districts and by governments, as well as the local executive committees of soviets which have chosen us, knew well to which congress they delegated us and had given us precise mandates, expressing their confidence in the constituent assembly and their blame of the soviets and the bolshevik organs that impede the work of the constituante and call the peasants to the congress of january th. these congresses and these committees have charged us to use all our efforts to defend the constituent assembly, binding themselves, on their part, in case our efforts were insufficient, to rise in a body for its defense. by reason of the disorganization of postal and telegraphic communications, and because in different localities the calls of the committee were held up by the bolshevist organizations, the instructions concerning the congress fixed for the th of january were not received in many provinces until after considerable delay. some minutes before the opening of the conference, which was to take place on the premises of the committee ( kirillovskaia street), where the delegates on hand had lodged, there arrived a detachment of sailors and red guards armed with guns and bombs, who surrounded the house, guarding all the entrances, and occupied all the apartments. the executive committee, performing its duty toward the peasant workers, which duty was to hold their flag with a firm hand, not fearing any violence, and not allowing themselves to be intimidated by the bayonets and the bombs of the enemies of the peasant workers, opened the session at the hour indicated. the bolshevist pretorians, however, violating the freedom of assembly, broke into the hall and surrounded the office and members of the conference with bayonets drawn. their leader, kornilov, staff-commandant of the red guards of the rojdestvensky quarter, made a speech to the delegates, in which he said that they were to go to the smolny institute, to the bolshevist congress, assuring them that they had come to this congress by mistake; at the end he read a document ordering him to make a search of the premises, to confiscate all papers, and to arrest all who would offer resistance. in reply to this speech the delegates and the members of the executive committee spoke in turn; they stigmatized vehemently the criminal policy of the bolshevist government, which dissolved the constituent assembly, the true representation of the popular will, without having given it the time to register a vote on the agricultural law; which shot down workers participating in peaceful negotiations; which deprived the people of the right of assembly to discuss their needs; which destroyed freedom of speech and assembly and trampled in the dust the whole russian revolution. the delegates, one after another, tried to explain to the red guards that it was not the delegates that were deceived in coming to this conference, but those who were going to smolny to the bolshevist congress, those who, by order of the bolsheviki, kill the peasants' representatives and dissolve their congress. in the midst of these speeches kornilov declared the congress dissolved; to this comrade ovtchinnikov, president of the conference, replied that the congress would not be dissolved except by force, and, besides, that the document read by kornilov did not authorize him to pronounce its dissolution. members of the congress having entered into arguments with the sailors and the red guards, concerning the violence inflicted on the peasant delegates, the sound of the rattling of guns was heard and the leader of the pretorians declared that if the congress would not submit to his orders he would stop at nothing. all the members of the congress were forthwith searched and thrown out of doors in groups of five, with the idea that, having come from the provinces, and not knowing petrograd, they would find themselves dispersed in such a way as not to be able to assemble again anywhere, and would be obliged either to betake themselves to the railway and return home or to direct their steps toward smolny, the address of which was given to each one at the exit. at the same time, without reason, the following were arrested: minor, a deputy to the constituent assembly; rakitnikov, ovtchinnikov, roussine, sorokine, and tchernobaiev, members of the executive committee of the soviet of peasant delegates; and chmelev, a soldier. the premises of the committee, on which were various documents and papers which were to be sent into the country, were occupied by red guards, and machine-guns were placed at the entrance. the search ended about nine o'clock in the evening. some late delegates alone were authorized to spend the night on the premises under the supervision of red guards. an inquiry held among the comrades, who had come for this third national peasants' congress, established that, at the time when the premises of the executive committee were seized, january , , there were, among the sailors and red guards of the detachment that did the work, _german and austrian prisoners dressed in russian uniforms_; it also established the fact that many objects had disappeared in the course of the search. the congress decided: first, to consider as a law the socialization of the soil voted by the constituent assembly and to apply the same in the country; second, to consider that the constituent assembly, dispersed by brutal force, was nevertheless elected by the whole people and ought to exist and to assemble again as soon as that would be possible; third, to fight everywhere in the provinces in the defense of the organs of autonomous administration, which the bolsheviki dispersed by armed force. during these few days when the peasants were obliged to assemble in secret and to station patrols to protect their meetings, they followed those methods of conspiracy that the russian socialists had been obliged to employ when they fought against the tyranny of autocracy. returning to their villages, the peasants bore with them the greatest hate for the bolsheviki, whom they considered the personification of tyranny and violence. and they took with them also a firm resolution to fight against this violence. the executive committee, whose powers were confirmed by the third congress, found itself thus, for the second time, deprived of all its goods, its premises, and its pecuniary resources; it found itself obliged to lead a half-clandestine existence, to organize secret assemblies, etc. miss spiridonova, who, in this fight against the peasants that rose to the defense of the constituent assembly, gave proof of intolerance and peculiar fanaticism, found herself at the head of the "peasants in uniform," sitting at smolny, _adopting a decree whereby all the moneys that came by post to the executive committee of the soviet of peasant delegates defending the constituent assembly were to be confiscated._ the action of the executive committee was thus rendered very difficult. but it continued to fight, to publish an organ, to commission delegates, to entertain continued relations with the provinces and the country. xii _conclusion_ _morally, bolshevism was killed in the eyes of the workers in the course of these days_ when a peaceful demonstration was fired upon, the constituent assembly dissolved, the peasant congress (and, very soon, the congress of the agricultural committees) dispersed. the central committee of the revolutionary socialist party issued an order for new elections to the soviets, thinking thus to eliminate automatically the bolsheviki. and, in truth, when at petrograd and in the provinces, these elections began, the revolutionary socialists and the mensheviki received the majority and the bolsheviki were snowed under. but these new elections were thwarted by many circumstances: first, because of the lessening of production the workmen were discharged in a body and quit the factories; second, the bolsheviki put obstacles in the way of the elections and sometimes openly prohibited them. nevertheless, wherever they could be held, the results were unfavorable to the bolsheviki. finally, when the working classes clearly saw the shameful rôle played by the bolsheviki in the matter of peace, when they saw the bolsheviki humbly beg for peace at any price from the germans, they understood that it was impossible to continue to tolerate such a government. _the central committee of the revolutionary socialist party published a manifesto appealing to an armed fight against the bolshevik government and the german gangs_ that were overrunning the country. the frightful results of this "peace," so extolled by the bolsheviki, rendered even the name of the bolshevist government odious in the eyes of every conscientious and honest man. * * * * * but bolshevism still endures, for it is based on the armed force of the red guard, on the supineness of the masses deprived of a political education, and not accustomed to fight or to act, and from ancient habit of submitting to force. the causes which produced bolshevism are: first, the accumulation of all the conditions of the historic past of the russian people; second, their psychic character and their habits; third, the conditions of the present time; and fourth, the general situation of the world--that is to say, the war. we also note the vague and hesitating policy of the provisional government; the lack of political education among the people, ready to follow him who promises the most; small development of civic sentiment; the want of any attachment whatever to the state--that of the romanov having never given anything to the people and having taken all from them. czarism took from the miserable peasant his last penny under form of taxes; it took his children from him for war; for the least act of disobedience to authority he was whipped. he wallowed in misery and in ignorance, deprived of every right, human or legal. how could he, this wretched and oppressed peasant develop civic sentiments, a consciousness of his personal dignity? on the other hand, we must take into account the immense weariness caused by the war and by the disorganization which it brought into the whole cycle of existence (to an incomparably greater degree than in western europe). such were the causes which had established a favorable scope for bolshevik propaganda; to introduce their domination they knew how to make use of the shortcomings of the people and the defects of russian life. in fine, what is bolshevism in its essence? _it is an experiment, that is either criminal or that proceeds from a terrible thoughtlessness, tried, without their consent, on the living body of the russian people_. thus some attempt to apply their theories, others wish to measure the height of their personal influence, while still others (and they are found in every movement) seek to profit by the circumstances. bolshevism is a phenomenon brought about by force; it is not a natural consequence of the progress of the russian revolution. taken all in all, bolshevism is not socialism. the bolshevist _coup d'état_ was accomplished contrary to the wish of the majority of the people, who were preparing for the constituent assembly. _it was accomplished with the help of armed force, and it is because of this that the bolshevist régime holds out._ _it has against it the whole conscious portion of the peasant and working population and all the intellectuals._ _it has crushed and trampled under foot the liberty that was won by the russian people._ the bolsheviki pretend to act in the name of the people. why, then, have they dissolved the constituent assembly elected by the people? they pretend to have the majority of the people with them. why, then, this governmental terror that is being used in a manner more cruel even than in the time of czarism? they say that, to fight against the bourgeoisie, the use of violence is necessary. but their principal thrusts are directed not against the bourgeoisie, but against the socialist parties that do not agree with them. and they dare give this caricature the name of dictatorship of the proletariat! socialism must necessarily be founded on democratic principles. if not, "it cuts off the branch of the tree on which it rests," according to the expression of kautsky. socialism needs constructive elements. it does not limit itself to the destruction of ancient forms of existence; it creates new ones. but bolshevism has only destructive elements. it does nothing but destroy, always destroy, with a blind hatred, a savage fanaticism. what has it established? its "decrees" are only verbal solutions without sense, skeletons of ideas, or simply a revolutionary phraseology containing nothing real (as for example the famous shibboleth, "neither peace nor war"). during the few months of its reign bolshevism has succeeded in destroying many things; nearly everything that the effort of the russian people had established. life, disorganized almost to its foundations, has become almost impossible in russia. the railroads do not function, or function only with great difficulty; the postal and telegraphic communications are interrupted in several places. the zemstvos--bases of the life of the country--are suppressed (they are "bourgeois" institutions); the schools and hospitals, whose existence is impossible without the zemstvos, are closed. the most complete chaos exists in the food-supply. the intellectuals, who, in russia, had suffered so much from the czarist tyranny and oppression, are declared "enemies of the people" and compelled to lead a clandestine existence; they are dying of hunger. it is the intellectuals and not the bourgeois (who are hiding) that suffer most from the bolshevist régime. the soviets alone remain. but the soviets are not only revolutionary organs, they are "guardians of the revolution," but in no way legislative and administrative organs. bolshevism is an experiment tried on the russian people. the people are going to pay dearly for it. at least let not this experiment be lost, on them, as well as on other peoples! let the socialists of western europe be not unduly elated by words or by far-fetched judgments. let them look the cruel reality in the face and examine facts to find out the truth. a tyranny which is supported by bayonets is always repugnant, wherever it comes from, and under whatever name it may strut. it can have nothing in common with socialism, which is not only a doctrine of economic necessity, but also a doctrine of superior justice and truth. "all the societies or individuals adhering to the internationale will know what must be the basis of their conduct toward all men: truth, justice, morality, without distinction of color, creed, or nationality," said the statutes that were drawn up by the prime founders of our internationale. _the executive committee of the national soviet of peasant delegates placing themselves on the grounds of the defense of the constituent assembly, having had to examine, in its session of february , , the violence committed by the bolsheviki, and to pass in review the persecutions that this organization had to suffer from that party and from the government of the commissaries of the people, decided to bring the violence committed by the bolsheviki in the name of socialism to the knowledge of the socialists of western europe and of the international socialist bureau through the citizen, e. roubanovitch, representative of the revolutionary socialist party at the international socialist bureau and intrusted with international relations by the executive committee of the first soviet of peasants. the executive committee demands the expulsion, from the socialist family, of the bolshevist leaders, as well as of those of the revolutionary socialists of the left, who seized the power by force, held it by violence and compromised socialism in the eyes of the popular masses. let our brothers of western europe be judges between the socialist peasants who rose in the defense of the constituent assembly and the bolsheviki, who dispersed them by armed force, thus trampling under foot the will of the russian people._ inna rakitnikov, _vice-president of the executive committee of the soviet of peasant delegates, who stand in defense of the constituent assembly._ _may , ._ appendix iii former socialist premier of finland on bolshevism the following letter was addressed to mr. santeri nuorteva, who, it will be remembered, was appointed minister to america by the revolutionary government of finland. the author of the letter, oskar tokoi, was the first socialist prime minister in the world. he is a socialist of long standing, who has always been identified with the radical section of the movement. mr. nuorteva, it should be added, is himself a strong supporter of the bolsheviki, and is their accredited american representative. archangel, _september , ._ santeri nuorteva, _fitchburg, mass._: dear comrade,--i deem it my duty to appeal to you and to other comrades in america in order to be able to make clear to you the trend of events here. the situation here has become particularly critical. we, the finnish refugees, who, after the unfortunate revolution, had to flee from finland to russia, find ourselves to-day in a very tragic situation. a part of the former red guardists who fled here have joined the red army formed by the russian soviet government; another part has formed itself as a special finnish legion, allied with the army of the allied countries; and a third part, which has gone as far as to siberia, is prowling about there, diffused over many sections of the country, and there have been reports that a part of those finns have joined the ranks of the czecho-slovaks. the finnish masses, thus divided, may therefore at any time get into fighting each other, which indeed would be the greatest of all misfortunes. it is therefore necessary to take a clear position, and to induce all the finns to support it, and we hope that you as well, over in america, will support it as much as is in your power. during these my wanderings i have happened to traverse russia from one end to another, and i have become deeply convinced that russia is not able to rise from this state of chaos and confusion by her own strength and of her own accord. the magnificent economic revolution, which the bolsheviki in russia are trying now to bring about, is doomed in russia to complete failure. the economic conditions in russia have not even approximately reached a stage to make an economic revolution possible, and the low grade of education, as well as the unsteady character of the russian people, makes it still more impossible. it is true that magnificent theories and plans have been laid here, but their putting into practice is altogether impossible, principally because of the following reasons: the whole propertied class--which here in russia, where small property ownership mainly prevails, is very numerous--is opposing and obstructing; technically trained people and specialists necessary in the industries are obstructing; local committees and sub-organs make all systematic action impossible, as they in their respective fields determine things quite autocratically and make everything unsuccessful which should be based on a strong, coherent, and in every respect minutely conceived system as a social production should be based. but even if all these, in themselves unsurmountable obstacles, could be made away with, there remains still the worst one--and that is the workers themselves. it is already clear that in the face of such economic conditions the whole social order has been upset. naturally only a small part of the people will remain backing such an order. the whole propertied class belongs to the opponents of the government, including the petty bourgeoisie, the craftsmen, the small merchants, the profiteers. the whole intellectual class and a great part of the workers are also opposing the government. in comparison with the entire population only a small minority supports the government, and, what is worse to the supporters of the government, are rallying all the hooligans, robbers, and others to whom this period of confusion promises a good chance of individual action. it is also clear that such a régime cannot stay but with the help of a stern terror. but, on the other hand, the longer the terror continues the more disagreeable and hated it becomes. even a great part of those who from the beginning could stay with the government and who still are sincere social democrats, having seen all this chaos, begin to step aside, or to ally themselves with those openly opposing the government. naturally, as time goes by, there remains only the worst and the most demoralized element. terror, arbitrary rule, and open brigandage become more and more usual, and the government is not able at all to prevent it. and the outcome is clearly to be foreseen--the unavoidable failure of all this magnificently planned system. and what will be the outcome of that? my conviction is that as soon as possible we should turn toward the other road--the road of united action. i have seen, and i am convinced that the majority of the russian people is fundamentally democratic and whole-heartedly detests a reinstitution of autocracy, and that therefore all such elements must, without delay, be made to unite. but it is also clear that at first they, even united, will not be able to bring about order in this country on their own accord. i do not believe that at this time there is in russia any social force which would be able to organize the conditions in the country. for that reason, to my mind, we should, to begin with, frankly and honestly rely on the help of the allied powers. help from germany cannot be considered, as germany, because of her own interests, is compelled to support the bolshevik rule as long as possible, as germany from the bolshevik rule is pressing more and more political and economic advantages, to such an extent even that all of russia is becoming practically a colony of germany. russia thus would serve to compensate germany for the colonies lost in south africa. a question presents itself at once whether the allied powers are better. and it must be answered instantly that neither would they establish in russia any socialist society. yet the democratic traditions of these countries are some surety that the social order established by them will be a democratic one. it is clear as day that the policy of the allied powers is also imperialistic, but the geographical and economic position of these countries is such that even their own interests demand that russia should be able to develop somewhat freely. the problem has finally evolved into such a state of affairs where russia must rely on the help either of the allies or germany; we must choose, as the saying goes, "between two evils," and, things being as badly mixed as they are, the lesser evil must be chosen frankly and openly. it does not seem possible to get anywhere by dodging the issue. russia perhaps would have saved herself some time ago from this unfortunate situation if she had understood immediately after the february revolution the necessity of a union between the more democratic elements. bolshevism undoubtedly has brought russia a big step toward her misfortune, from which she cannot extricate herself on her own accord. thus there exists no more any purely socialist army, and all the fighting forces and all those who have taken to arms are fighting for the interests of the one or the other group of the great powers. the question therefore finally is only this--in the interests of which group one wants to fight. the revolutionary struggles in russia and in finland, to my mind, have clearly established that a socialist society cannot be brought about by the force of arms and cannot be supported by the force of arms, but that a socialist order must be founded on a conscious and living will by an overwhelming majority of the nations, which is able to realize its will without the help of arms. but now that the nations of the world have actually been thrown into an armed conflict, and the war, which in itself is the greatest crime of the world, still is raging, we must stand it. we must, however, destroy the originator and the cause of the war, the militarism, by its own arms, and on its ruins we must build, in harmony and in peace--not by force, as the russian bolsheviki want--a new and a better social order under the guardianship of which the people may develop peacefully and securely. i have been explaining to you my ideas, expecting that you will publish them. you over in america are not able to imagine how horrible the life in russia at the present time is. the period after the french revolution surely must have been as a life in a paradise compared with this. hunger, brigandage, arrests, and murders are such every-day events that nobody pays any attention to them. freedom of assemblage, association, free speech, and free press is a far-away ideal which is altogether destroyed at the present time. arbitrary rule and terror are raging everywhere, and, what is worst of all, not only the terror proclaimed by the government, but individual terror as well. my greetings to all friends and comrades. oskar tokoi. the end footnotes: [ ] plechanov never formally joined the menshevik faction, i believe, but his writings showed that he favored that faction and the mensheviki acknowledged his intellectual leadership. [ ] they had gained one member since the election. [ ] quoted by litvinov, _the bolshevik revolution: its rise and meaning_, p. . litvinov, it must be remembered, was the bolshevik minister to great britain. his authority to speak for the bolsheviki is not to be questioned. [ ] the date is russian style--march th, our style. [ ] _the state in russia--old and new_, by leon trotzky; _the class struggle_, vol. ii, no. , pp. - . [ ] this document is printed in full at the end of the volume as appendix. i [ ] the author of the present study is responsible for the use of italics in this document. [ ] litvinov, _the bolshevik revolution: its rise and meaning_, p. . [ ] lenine is not quite accurate in his statement of marx's views nor quite fair in stating the position of the "opportunists." the argument of marx in _the civil war in france_ is not that the proletariat must "break down" the governmental machinery, but that it must _modify_ it and _adapt_ it to the class needs. this is something quite different, of course. moreover, it is the basis of the policy of the "opportunists." the mensheviki and other moderate socialists in russia were trying to _modify_ and _adapt_ the political state. [ ] the reference is to karl kautsky, the great german exponent of marxian theory. [ ] _the new international_ (american bolshevik organ), june , . [ ] _the new international_, july , . [ ] litvinov, _op. cit._, p. . [ ] _the new international_, april, . [ ] see, _e.g._, the article by lenine, _new international_, april, , and litvinov, _op. cit._ [ ] see my _syndicalism, industrial unionism, and socialism_ for the i.w.w. philosophy. [ ] bryant, _six months in red russia_, p. . [ ] this appeal is published as appendix i at the end of this volume. [ ] certain soviets of soldiers at the front had decided that they would stay in their trenches for defensive purposes, but would obey no commands to go forward, no matter what the military situation. [ ] figures supplied by the russian information bureau. [ ] "it was with a deep and awful sense of the terrible failure before us that i consented to become premier at that time," kerensky told the present writer. [ ] the story was reproduced in _new europe_ (london), september, . [ ] _the new international_, april, . [ ] see p. . [ ] see the letter of e. roubanovitch, appendix ii, p. . [ ] _justice_, london, january , . [ ] _justice_, london, may , . [ ] _vide_ special memorandum to the international socialist bureau on behalf of the revolutionary socialist party of russia. [ ] see appendix iii. [ ] _pravda_, july , . [ ] february, , protest against recognition of bolshevik representative by british labor party conference. [ ] proclamation to people of the northern province, etc., december, [ ] _the new international_, april, . [ ] the dates given are according to the russian calendar. [ ] see the rakitnikov memorandum--appendix. [ ] _the new international_, april, . [ ] the number of votes was over , , . [ ] _vide_ rakitnikov report. [ ] twenty-three members of the executive committee were arrested and, without any trial, thrown into the fortress of peter and paul. [ ] from a declaration of protest by the executive committee of the third national congress of peasants' delegates (anti-bolshevist), sent to the bolshevik congress of soviets of workmen, soldiers, and peasants, but not permitted to be read to that assembly. [ ] _l'ouorier russe_, may, . [ ] _idem_. [ ] _izvestya_, july , . [ ] _pravda_, october , (no. ). [ ] "agents-provocateurs and the russian revolution," article in _justice,_, august , , by j. tchernoff. [ ] most of the information in this paragraph is based upon an article in the swiss newspaper _lausanne gazette_ by the well-known russian journalist, serge persky, carefully checked up by russian socialist exiles in paris. [ ] joseph martinek, in the _cleveland press_. [ ] _justice_ (london), january , . [ ] _justice_, london, january , . [ ] jean jaurès, _studies in socialism_. [ ] f. engels, , preface to marx's _civil war in france_. [ ] the reader is referred to my _sidelights on contemporary socialism_ and my _karl marx: his life and works_ for a fuller account of these struggles. [ ] marx, _a contribution to the critique of political economy_, p. . [ ] editorial entitled "bolshevik problems," in _the liberator_, april, . [ ] the article by lenine quoted by mr. eastman appeared in _the new international_, february, . [ ] _the bolsheviks and the soviets_, by albert rhys williams, p. . [ ] _ansprache der centralbehorde an den bund, vom marz, _: anhang ix der enthullerngen über den kommunisten-process zu koln, p. . [ ] lenine, _the soviets at work_. [ ] wilhelm liebknecht, _no compromise, no political trading_, p. . [ ] _socialism: a summary and interpretation of socialist principles_, by john spargo, p. ( st edition macmillan, ). [ ] liebknecht, _no compromise, no political trading_, p. . [ ] liebknecht, _no compromise, no political trading_, p. . [ ] this subject is treated in the following, among others, of my books: _socialism: a summary and interpretation of socialist principles_; _applied socialism_; _syndicalism, industrial unionism, and socialism_; _elements of socialism_ (spargo and arner), and _social democracy explained_. [ ] _the new international_, july , . [ ] conversation with trotzky reported by e.a. ross, _russia in upheaval_, p. . [ ] kautsky, _the social revolution_, p. . [ ] lenine, _the soviets at work_. [ ] lenine, _op. cit._ [ ] lenine, _op. cit._ [ ] the best expositions of guild socialism are _self-government in industry_, by g.d.h. cole, and _national guilds_, by s.g. hobson, edited by a.r. orage. [ ] lenine, _op. cit._ [ ] lenine, _op. cit._ [ ] lenine, _op. cit._ [ ] lenine, _op. cit._ [ ] lenine, _op. cit._ [ ] of course, trotzky's statement to professor ross about paying the capitalists " or per cent. a year" was frankly a compromise. [ ] e.a. ross, _russia in upheaval_, pp. - . [ ] litvinov, _the bolshevik revolution: its rise and meaning_, p. . [ ] marx and engels speak of the "idiocy of rural life" from which capitalism, through the concentration of agriculture and the abolition of small holdings, would rescue the peasant proprietors (_communist manifesto_). in _capital_ marx speaks of the manner in which modern industry "annihilates the peasant, _the bulwark of the old society_" (vol. i, p. ). liebknecht says that in it was the _city_ which overthrew the corrupt citizen king and the _country_ which overthrew the new republic, chose louis bonaparte and prepared the way for the empire. "the french peasantry created an empire through their blind fear of proletarian socialism" (_die grund und bodenfrage_). kautsky wrote, "peasants who feel that they are not proletarians, but true peasants, are not only not to be won over to our cause, _but belong to our most dangerous adversaries_" (_dat erfurter programm und die land-agitation_). it would be easy to compile a volume of such utterances. [ ] walling, _russia's message_, p. . the italics are mine. [ ] "cabinet lands" are the crown lands, property of the czar and royal family. [ ] ross, _op. cit._, pp. - . [ ] _justice_, london, august , . [ ] the figures given are quoted by sack, in _the birth of russian democracy_, and were originally published by the bolshevist commissaire of commerce. [ ] _parvus et le parti socialiste danois_, by p.g. la chesnais. [ ] la chesnais, _op. cit._ [ ] in "_l'humanité_," article condensed in _justice_, january , . [ ] international notes, _justice_, january , . [ ] _the disarmament cry_, by n. lenine, in _the class struggle_, may-june, . [ ] _the "disarmament" cry_, by n. lenine, _the class struggle_, may-june, . [ ] most, if not all, dates in this document are given as in the russian calendar, which is thirteen days behind ours. [ ] this refers, doubtless, to the different basis for voting applied to the peasants and the industrial workers, as provided in the soviet constitution. [transcriber's note: obvious printer's errors have been corrected, all other inconsistencies are as in the original. author's spelling has been maintained. missing page numbers correspond to moved illustrations.] [illustration: map] the story of russia by r. van bergen, m.a. author of "the story of japan," "the story of china," etc. new york-:-cincinnati-:-chicago american book company copyright, , by american book company entered at stationers' hall, london story of russia w. p. . to henry mather lowman amicus certus re incerta cernitur. preface. recent events have drawn the attention upon russia, a country of which but little is known here, because the intercourse between it and the united states has been limited. in my frequent journeys to the far east, i found it often difficult to comprehend events because, while i could not help perceiving that the impulse leading to them came from russia, it was impossible to discover what prompted the government of the czar. i felt the necessity to study the history of russia, and found it so fascinating, that i resolved to place it in a condensed form before the students in our schools. they must be the judges of how i have succeeded. r. van bergen. contents. chapter page i. the realm of the czar ii. early records of russia iii. the norsemen (or varingians) in russia iv. saint vladimir and iaroslaf the great v. a russian republic vi. troublous times vii. the yellow peril viii. russia under the mongol yoke ix. lithuania and moscow x. decline of the tartar power. dmitri donskoï xi. ivan iii, the great xii. russia becomes an autocracy xiii. ivan iv, the terrible xiv. russia under ivan the terrible xv. feodor, the last of rurik's descendants xvi. michael feodorovitch (son of theodore) the first romanof xvii. early years of peter the great (peter alexievitch) xviii. peter the great and his reign xix. peter the great and his time xx. the successors of peter the great xxi. russia under catherine ii (the great) xxii. russia during the wars of napoleon xxiii. an eventful period xxiv. alexander ii, the liberator xxv. great events during alexander's reign nihilism xxvi. alexander iii, the peasants' friend xxvii. russia methods: the war with japan xxviii. the origin and growth of the asiatic empire xxix. russian methods. the war with japan xxx. russia loses her prestige the story of russia. i--the realm of the czar. (p.  ) when we think of our country, we feel proud of it for other and better reasons than its great size. we know how its extent compares with that of other nations; we know that the united states covers an area almost equal to that of europe, and, more favored than that grand division, is situated on the two great highways of commerce, the atlantic and pacific oceans. europe is as far from the latter, as asia is from the former; and these highways, powerful means toward creating prosperity, remain at the same time barriers whereby nations that find greater delight in the arts of war than in those of peace, are restrained from disturbing our national progress. at the beginning of this twentieth century the nations upon which depends the world's peace or war, happiness or misfortune, are the united states, great britain, germany, france, austria-hungary, italy, russia, japan, and in the near future china. here we see that europe, although little larger in area than the united states, is represented by seven nations, asia by two, and the western hemisphere by one which by its institutions stands for peace and progress, for law and (p.  ) order. hence we, its citizens, are known all over the world as americans. if we compare the area occupied by the several european powers with that covered by the main body of our republic, that is, not including alaska and other outlying territories, we find that austria-hungary has four thousand square miles less than texas, while germany lacks forty thousand square miles in comparison with the lone star state. france is four thousand square miles less than germany, and italy is only a thousand square miles greater than nevada. the british kingdom in europe is about twice the area of illinois. among the great nations of the world, aside from outlying possessions beyond the grand division, our country stands third, and should occupy the second place, because china, the next larger, owes its greater area to territories over which she has little or no control, and which she seems destined to lose. the largest country is russia, covering as it does one-sixth of all the land on the earth. this empire, although inhabited by people differing in race, religion, and customs, is one compact whole. it embraces in europe , , square miles, or more than all other european nations combined; its area in asia is , , square miles, making a total of , , square miles, or . times as many as the main body of our country. all the people living in this immense empire, whatever their race, religion, or language, obey the will of _one man_. we, who dwell in our beloved country, yield obedience only to the law; but the laws are made by ourselves, and they allow us (p.  ) to do as we please, so long as we do not interfere with others who have the same rights; and those laws are ever ready to protect us. in russia laws are made or unmade at the will of one person who is himself above the laws. every man, woman, or child, born and living in that country, is at his mercy. mere suspicion is sufficient to drag a man from his family and home, perhaps to disappear without leaving a trace. such a government is called an autocracy, and the man who may thus dispose of people's life and property, is known as an autocrat. hence the title of the emperor of russia is: autocrat of all the russias. why "all the russias"? look at the map of eurasia, the continent embracing the two grand divisions europe and asia. you will see that the russian empire is bounded on the north by the arctic ocean; on the east by the bering strait, the bering sea, the sea of okhotsk, and the japan sea; on the south by china, pamir, afghanistan, persia, asiatic turkey, and the black sea; and on the west by roumania, austria-hungary, the german empire, the baltic sea, sweden, and norway. this immense empire is the growth of many centuries, and even in europe it has not yet been welded into one whole. when we read russian books, we learn about great and little russia, white and red russia, which shows that divisions of bygone years are still observed by the people. much has been done towards effacing those boundary lines; but the fact that the czar, autocrat though he is, recognizes and admits the division in his title, shows that even he is, to some extent, subject to public opinion. russia in europe, however, with the exception of poland and (p.  ) finland, is a country with one religion and one language; that is, the czar and his government recognize and admit no other. that is the cause of the persecution of the jews, four fifths of whom dwell in the southwest of russia in an area covering , square miles, which is sometimes mentioned as the jewish territory. every succeeding czar has tried to make all his subjects think and act in the manner prescribed by him. the process is known as "russianizing," and goes on incessantly in its different stages. immediately after the conquest of a country, its people are assured that their religion, institutions, and language, shall be respected; the only difference is that the native officials are displaced by russians. this continues until russian rule is firmly established, and no one dreams of resisting the czar. then the russian language displaces the native tongue, and if disturbances occur, the military is called in to inflict a terrible punishment. the loss of the native language carries with it that of old institutions, and when the people have submitted to their fate, it is the turn of their religion. the russian is in no hurry; he has a conviction that time has no changes in store for his empire, hence he bides his time, and is likely to succeed in his purpose. this process is now carried on in central asia where russian power has found its greatest expansion in modern times. it is but fair to admit that russian absorption there has been highly beneficial because robber tribes were reduced to law and order. [illustration: russia] before telling the story of russia, that is, of how the huge empire was formed and grew to its present size, it is necessary to become (p.  ) better acquainted with the aspect and nature of the country. looking at the map of the eurasian continent, that is, the continent embracing europe and asia, we cannot fail to notice that russia is a country of the plains. its southern boundary seems to follow the mountain barriers which divide asia into two parts. does it not seem as if long billows of earth roll down toward the arctic ocean, where they rest benumbed by the eternal cold? these mountains branch off toward the south, east or west, but scorn to throw so much as a spur northward. it is true that a solitary chain, the urals, runs north and south, but it stands by itself, and is nothing more than what the word ural signifies, a _belt_ or _girdle_ separating the european from his asiatic brother. these mountains do not form the backbone of a country, nor do they serve as a watershed, like our rocky mountains or the andes of south america. some of their peaks rise to a height of , feet above the level of the sea, but the chain, miles long, seems destined only to keep the two races apart. beyond the ural mountains, the plain resumes its sway. this extensive flat could not fail to exert a noticeable influence upon the country and its inhabitants. the dense forests in the north, while acting as a screen, do not afford protection against the icy polar winds which sweep with scarcely diminished force over the broad expanse, so that the northern shores of the black and caspian seas in january have about the same temperature as stockholm, the capital of sweden. the mountains of western europe shut off the aërial current of the gulf stream which tempers the summer heat as well as the winter cold. (p.  ) russia's climate, therefore, is one of extremes. in summer the heat is very oppressive, owing to the absence of the sea breeze which elsewhere affords so much relief; and when a wind does blow, it only adds to the discomfort, because it has lost its moisture. that is the reason why russia suffers so often from drought. this is especially the case in the south where no forests are found to attract rain. nature has provided a substitute in the splendid waterways. in about the center of european russia, rises the valdai plateau to a height of , feet above the sea level. this is russia's great watershed. near it, in lake volgo, rises the largest river of europe, "mother volga," as the russian ballad singers love to call it. its entire length is , miles, or nearly the length of the missouri; it has a basin of , square miles. owing to the slight slope of the land, the great river flows placidly in its bed, which is fortunate since its waters are swollen by several large rivers, so that there are points where it is seventeen miles wide. the kama, one of the tributaries of the volga, is , miles long; the oka, another confluent, has a length of miles. at kazan, the volga is , feet wide, at jaroslaf , feet, and at samara, , feet. it empties into the caspian sea, with a delta of more than seventy branches. the fish caught in this river often grow to gigantic proportions; its sturgeons, lampreys, and salmon, are highly prized. since time immemorial, the volga has been a great highway of trade. kostroma, nishni novgorod, kazan, simbirsk, saratof, and astrakhan, are the most populous cities on its banks. other large rivers rise on the valdai plateau. the dnieper runs (p.  ) south, passing by kief, and empties in the black sea, near odessa. the dwina runs northward, seeking the icy arctic, which it enters by way of the white sea near archangel. the düna takes a westerly course towards the gulf of riga where it empties near the city of that name. of greater importance are the small streams which feed lakes ladoga and onega, because they connect central russia with the baltic sea by means of the neva. european russia is usually divided into four zones or belts, from the character of the soil and the nature of its productions; their general direction is from southwest to northeast. in the north, as a screen against the arctic blast, is the _poliessa_ or forest region, densely covered with lindens, birches, larches, and sycamores, with oaks on the southern fringe. these forests are invaluable to russia where, in the absence of mountains, stone is scarce. the houses are built of wood, and fires are of common occurrence. both lumber and fuel are supplied by these forests which originally extended to novgorod, moscow, and jaroslaf. the increase in population together with the growing demand for lumber, have caused extensive clearings; but the area covered by the forests is so large, that the supply is well-nigh inexhaustible. south of this zone are the black earth lands, extending down to the caucasus and across the urals, and covering in europe an area of one hundred and fifty million acres,--equal to that of texas. this zone derives its name from an apparently inexhaustible bed of black (p.  ) mold, so rich that no manure is required to produce abundant crops. until late in the last century, and before the united states began to export its surplus harvests, this region was considered the granary of europe. it was known in very old times since we read of it in the heroic age of ancient greece, when jason sailed in the argo to bring home the golden fleece. almost equal in extent is the zone of arable steppes, or prairies, once the home of the cossack, the nomad who led here the life of a shepherd king, moving about as the condition of pasture and flock required. most of this land is now under cultivation, and with careful farming produces good crops. these arable steppes cover an area equal to that of iowa, kansas, and nebraska. the fourth and last zone is that of the barren steppes. there is ample evidence that at some remote time these plains were covered with salt water. the caspian sea has a level eighty feet below that of the black sea, and it is therefore probable that here was a large inland sea of which the caspian and aral seas are the remains. these steppes are unfit for farming. here dwell the kalmucks and kirghizes, descendants of the tartars whose yoke once pressed heavily upon russia. [illustration: russian peasants] (p.  ) ii--early records of russia. (p.  ) at an early period in the history of greece, we hear of colonies established on the northern shore of the pontus euxinus or hospitable sea, as they named the black sea. we may even now recognize some of the names of those colonies, such as odessos, at the mouth of the bug, tyras, at that of the dniester, and pityas where colchis, the object of the search of jason and his fellow argonauts, is supposed to have been. in the fourth century before our era, some of these colonies united under a hereditary _archon_ or governor, probably for the purpose of securing better protection against the barbarians who dwelt further inland. the greeks mention these barbarians as the scythians, and divided them into three classes. the agricultural scythians dwelt in the black earth belt, near the dnieper; the nomad scythians lived at some distance to the east of them, and the royal scythians occupied the land around the sea of azof. learned men of russia have made many excavations on the spots where the greek settlements once stood, during the past century. they have been rewarded by finding many works of art, illustrating the mode of living of the scythians. they have been placed, and may be seen (p.  ) in the hermitage museum of st. petersburg. among these relics of the past are two beautifully engraved vases, one of gold, the other of silver. the scythians on the silver vase wear long hair and beards, and are dressed in gowns or tunics, and bear a close resemblance to the russians of our time. these vases and other ancient objects confirm what is said about these people by herodotus, a greek historian who lived in the fourth century before christ. we learn from him that the scythians worshiped a sword stuck into the ground, representing the god of war, and that they made human sacrifices. they drank the blood of the first enemy killed in battle, scalped their prisoners, and used their skulls as drinking cups. in the course of time the greek civilization exerted its influence, and penetrated to tribes dwelling much further in the north, as is shown by the antiquities found in the government of ekaterinoslaf. the _orbis terrarum_ or world so far as it was known to the greeks, was centered about the mediterranean; hence the name of that sea, meaning middle of the land or middle of the earth. beyond that there was an unknown region, supposed to be inhabited by people of whom many wonderful stories were told. thus they believed in the existence of the arimaspians, a race of one-eyed people; there are legends, too, of the agrippei who were described as bald and snub-nosed. the greeks also mention the gryphons, who, they said, were guardians of immense quantities of gold. the most wonderful people to the greeks were the hyperboreans, or dwellers beyond the regions of the north wind, (p.  ) who were looked upon with awe and pity because it was said that they lived in a country where snow fell summer and winter. these were some of the races and tribes supposed to inhabit russia, which goes far to prove that the knowledge of that country, in those times, was neither extensive nor very accurate. the truth is that we know very little about the early inhabitants of russia; nor do they concern us greatly, because grave changes occurred in the fourth century of our era. at that time several large and warlike tribes of central asia moved westward compelling other tribes on their route to join them or to move ahead. thus they gathered strength until it looked as if asia was bent upon the conquest of europe. they poured in through the gap between the ural mountains and the caspian sea, and the civilized people of southeastern europe were unable to cope with the savage hordes. in the vanguard were the goths, who made an effort to settle, in scythia, but they were forced to move on when attila, who is known as the scourge of god, swooped down upon them with his huns. he was followed by a host of finns, bulgarians, magyars, and slavs who, however, left his wake, scattered and settled down. soon after the slavs became known to greek authors and were described by them. they were divided into a number of tribes, among them the russian slavs who settled about the sources of the volga and the oka, and were the founders of novgorod, pskof, and izborsk. they must have been a numerous people. we hear of another tribe settling on the banks of the vistula, and laying the foundation of (p.  ) the future kingdom of poland. they settled on the upper elbe, and in the north of germany. it is believed that the slavs are ancestors of the people in bohemia, bulgaria, croatia, servia, and dalmatia, and in prussia of those living in pomerania and brandenburg. all these slavs, although widely dispersed, practiced the same heathen rites, spoke the same language, and nursed the same traditions, until they fell under different influences. they were, however, not the sole occupants of northeastern europe. other races had followed in attila's wake, and among them the finns were the most numerous and most warlike. they settled in the basin of the dwina and the kama and named their new home biarmaland, while the russians called it great permia. they also occupied what is now known as finland, but which was then known as land of the suomi. the finns, more than any other tribe, bore evidence of their asiatic origin. thus the present european russia was divided among a host of tribes, belonging either to the slav or finn families, and each kept to a great extent the superstitions and traditions of his race. even in our time the traces of these superstitions are plainly discernible in many parts of russia. when christianity was introduced among these people, the missionaries found many of the barbaric rites so strongly implanted among the people that, instead of making vain efforts to uproot them, they preferred to admit them under a christian name. the religion of the slavs bore a great resemblance to that of the norsemen and of the germanic races; that is, they worshiped nature (p.  ) and its phenomena. dagh bog was the sungod; perun, the thor of northern mythology, was the god of thunder; stri bog, the god of the winds; voloss, the protector of flocks. they had neither temples nor regular priests, but worshiped the oak as the symbol of perun, and before it the leaders offered sacrifices. these ancient deities are preserved under the names of st. john, who displaced perun; voloss who became st. vlaise, etc. when a chief died, the wife often refused to survive her husband. the men-servants were summoned and asked which of them would be buried with his master. when one of them came forward, he was immediately strangled. then the same question was put to the women servants, and if one of them consented, she was feasted until the day when the funeral pyre awaited the corpse. she was then killed and her body burned with that of her master. there were, however, some tribes that buried their dead. the father was absolute master of his family, but his authority did not descend to the eldest son, but to the oldest of the family, his brothers, if any were living, according to their age. the slavs kept several wives, and were given to consume large quantities of a strong drink called kvass. they were a people devoted to agriculture; the land under cultivation was not owned by one person or a family, but by all the members of a community, or _mir_. the heads of the families composing the mir assembled in a council or _vetché_, which had authority over the mir. only the house and the _dvor_ or inclosure, and his share in the harvest, were the property of each householder. in the course of time, several of these rural communities united (p.  ) in a canton or county, called a _volost_, which was then governed by a council composed of the elders of several communes. it happened sometimes that one of these elders, who was considered unusually wise or powerful, became chief of the volost, a dignity which might become hereditary. this was probably the origin of the boyards or nobles. as a rule, the volosts were proud of their independence; they disliked entangling alliances, although in time of danger or necessity they would enter into a confederacy of all the counties belonging to the same tribe, which was then called _plemia_. but it was always understood that such an arrangement was temporary. in most of the volosts, there was at least one spot fortified by earthen walls and wooden palisades, where the people might take refuge in case of an attack. we know that some of the slav tribes attained some degree of civilization as early as the seventh century of our era. novgorod was a town, large for that time, which carried on a brisk trade with asia. this is amply proved by the discovery of asiatic coins belonging to that period. although the favorite occupation of the slavs was agriculture, the construction of the fortified places suggests that they were not averse to increase their wealth by an occasional raid upon their unprepared neighbors. there is other evidence that novgorod, grown into a wealthy city in the middle of the ninth century, longed for peace. no wonder that such a community sought for means of security for its commerce. but the manner in which it accomplished this desire, decided the fate of russia. iii--the norsemen (or varingians) in russia. (p.  ) it would have been strange indeed, if the bold norsemen, the bold buccaneers who in their frail craft pillaged the west coasts of europe and extended their voyages into the mediterranean, should have omitted to pay a visit to the shores of the baltic sea. we know that they settled in england and france, and it causes no surprise when we read that the slavs in the neighborhood of the baltic paid tribute to them. they must have been exacting tax collectors, because we read also that, in , the slavs rose and expelled their visitors. three years later they returned at the invitation of the people of novgorod. nestor, the historian of the slav race, who lived in the twelfth century, and whose account is remarkably clear and trustworthy, wrote that the inhabitants of novgorod "said to the princes of varingia, 'our land is great and fertile, but it lacks order and justice; come, take possession, and govern us.'" the invitation was accepted. three brothers, rurik or the peaceful, sineous or the victorious, and truvor or the faithful, proceeded to russia with their families and fighting men. rurik settled on the south shore of lake ladoga, sineous on the white lake, and truvor at izborsk. the two younger brothers died, and rurik moved to (p.  ) novgorod where he built a castle. at about the same time two other norsemen, askold and dir, landed in russia, and went to kief, then also a flourishing city, where they were equally well received. they persuaded its people to prepare an expedition against czargrad, the city of the czar or emperor of the eastern roman empire, now known as constantinople, but at that time named byzantium. the expedition of kief under askold and dir sailed down the dnieper in a fleet of large boats, entered the golden horn--or bosphorus,--and began the siege of constantinople. the capital was saved by the patriarch or head of the greek church, who plunged a wonder-working robe into the waves, whereupon a violent storm destroyed the russian fleet. the two chiefs, askold and dir, must have escaped, because they were back at kief when that city received a disagreeable visit. upon rurik's death, he was succeeded, not by his son igor, but by his brother oleg as the eldest of the family. the new prince or _kniaz_ did not approve of rival norsemen in his neighborhood. with his own men and a large number of slavs and finns, he marched upon kief, and on his way compelled smolensk and loubetch to submit to his authority. when he arrived before kief, he succeeded in capturing askold and dir who were put to death "because," oleg explained, "they were neither princes themselves, nor of the blood of princes." kief was taken, and oleg took up his residence in that city. [illustration: norsemen] it is at this time that the name russia first appears. its (p.  ) derivation is doubtful and is, besides, of no great importance. oleg ruled over russia, that is, the plain extending from kief to novgorod. there is a story that he was defeated by the hungarians, who had crossed the dnieper, but it is doubtful, because in the year , we find him preparing another expedition against constantinople. on this occasion the people of that capital forgot to bring out the robe, and tried to poison the invaders, but their scheme was discovered in time; they were forced to pay a heavy tribute and oleg secured, besides, a very advantageous commercial treaty. one of the wizards at oleg's court had warned him that his favorite horse would be the cause of his death, and the animal was kept away from him until it died. oleg did not believe in wizards; he insisted upon seeing the body and entered the stable. a snake came out of the horse's skull and stung oleg in the foot, and he died from the effect of the poison. igor, rurik's son, was the eldest, and succeeded his uncle. he led another expedition against constantinople, but it ended in disaster, because the russian fleet was destroyed by greek fire. a large number of russians were captured but igor escaped. this failure did not prevent him from again attacking the byzantine empire, and this time he was successful. the emperor agreed to pay tribute and signed another commercial treaty. nestor, the russian historian, tells us the story of igor's death. "in the year ," he says, "the _drujina_" (that is, the body-guard, composed of norsemen or their descendants), "of igor said to him, 'the men of sveneld are richly provided with weapons and garments, while we go in rags; lead us, prince, to collect the tribute so that (p.  ) thou and we may become rich.' igor consented, and conducted them to the drevlians to raise the tribute. he increased the first imposts, and did them violence, he and his men; after having taken all he wanted, he returned to his city. while on the road he bethought himself and said to his drujina, 'go on with the tribute; i will go back and try to get some more out of them.' leaving the greater part of his men to go on their way, he returned with only a few, to the end that he might increase his riches. the drevlians, when they learnt that igor was coming back, held council with nal, their prince. 'when the wolf enters the sheepfold he slays the whole flock, if the shepherd does not slay him. thus it is with us and igor; if we do not destroy him, we are lost.' then they sent deputies who said to him, 'why dost thou come anew unto us? hast thou not collected all the tribute?' but igor would not hear them, so the drevlians came out of the town of korosthenes, and slew igor and his men, for they were but a few." the drujina or body-guard of the duke was at the same time his council. the men composing it were considered as members of his family; they ate at his table and shared his amusements as well as his toil. he did nothing without consulting them, and was really but the first among his peers. they formed a court of justice, and it was from among them that he appointed the voievods or governors of fortresses, and possadniks or commandants of large towns. we have a description of the courts of that time by an arab writer named ibn dost. he says: (p.  ) "when a russian brings a complaint against another, he summons him before the court of the prince where both state their case. when the prince has pronounced his verdict, his orders are executed; but if both parties are dissatisfied, the dispute must be decided by weapons. he whose sword cuts sharper, gains his cause. at the time of the fight, the relatives of the two adversaries appear armed, and surround the space set apart. the combatants then come to blows, and the victor may impose any terms he pleases." the people of the country, the peasants, were not quite so free as when rurik landed. they began to be known as _moujik_, a contemptuous diminutive of the word mouj or man, literally manikin. the merchants or _gosti_ did not form a distinct class, but in larger cities, such as novgorod and kief, they had a voice in the administration. these cities had a vetché or municipal council which directed the city's business without any direct interference from the prince. the successors of rurik attended to the defense of the country, the administration of justice, and the collection of tribute and taxes, which sources of revenue were appropriated by them and served for their support and for that of the drujina. the slavs of that time exhibited many characteristics which we recognize in the russians of our time. leo the deacon, a noted writer of that time, mentions that they fought in a compact body, and seemed like a wall of iron, bristling with lances, glittering with shields, whence rang a ceaseless clamor like the waves of the sea. a huge shield covered them to their feet, and, when they fought in retreat, they turned this enormous buckler on their backs and became (p.  ) invulnerable. the fury of the battle frenzied them. they were never seen to surrender. when victory was lost they stabbed themselves, for they believed that those who died by the hand of an enemy were condemned to serve him in the life after death. the emperors of byzantium were glad to secure their services, and the _ross_, as they called them, often formed the body-guard. in the byzantine expedition against crete, russians served in the army. the norsemen readily adapted themselves to the habits, customs, and language of the people among whom they settled. we find the norse names of rurik, oleg, and igor, but after the last named their descendants were russians and bore russian names. at igor's death his son sviatoslaf was still a minor, whose mother, olga, became regent. she was a woman of determination, whose first thought was to avenge the death of her husband. the drevlians, hearing of her preparations, sent two deputations to appease her: not a man returned. they were all put to death at her command. nestor tells us that olga herself commanded her warriors at the siege of korosthenes, and that she offered to make peace on payment of a tribute of three pigeons and three sparrows for every house. this was accepted and the birds were delivered, when she ordered lighted tow to be fastened to their tails, and when they flew back to the wooden town, they set fire to the houses and barns. korosthenes was then captured and a great number of its inhabitants were slaughtered and the rest were made slaves. it seems strange that such a woman should have been the first of (p.  ) rurik's house to embrace christianity. there is no doubt that she visited constantinople where she astonished the emperor by the force of her character. she was baptized and received the name of helen. it is quite possible that she came to constantinople for that purpose, because we read that she refused to be baptized at kief "for fear of the pagans." this confirms the greek records in which it is stated that a bishop was established in russia, probably at kief, in the time of oleg. it is not strange that christianity should have taken root in russia after the frequent wars with the byzantine empire, and considering the commerce carried on between kief and constantinople. missionaries entered russia at an early period. two of them, cyril and methodius, prepared a slavonic alphabet, in which many greek letters were used, and the bible was translated into that language. there is a tradition that askold was baptized after his defeat at constantinople, and that this is the reason why the people still worship at his tomb at kief, as of that of the first christian prince. the norsemen had no taste for persecution on account of religious belief, but for themselves they clung to the heathen deities. when igor swore to observe the treaty concluded with emperor leo vi, he went up to the hill of perun and used the ancient slavonic rites; but the emperor's deputies went to the church of st. elias, and there laid their hands upon the bible as a token of good faith. the drujina and warriors did not take kindly to christianity. they, as well as the peasants, preferred to worship perun and voloss. the same thing happened elsewhere. christianity made the greatest progress (p.  ) in cities, whereas the dwellers on the "heath" remained "heathen." "when one of the warriors of the prince wished to become a convert," says nestor, "he was not prevented; they simply laughed at him." when olga returned from constantinople, she was anxious that her son, who was of age and had succeeded to his father, should follow her example. sviatoslaf refused; "my men will laugh at me," was his usual answer. nestor mentions that he sometimes lost his temper. christianity did not make much progress during his reign. he was a warrior, like his norse ancestors. in the brief time of eight years, - , he found time to wage two wars. the first was with the khazar empire on the don. sviatoslaf captured its capital, the white city, and received tribute from two tribes of the caucasus. the second war did not turn out so well. from nestor's account and that of leo the deacon, it appears that the byzantine emperor, wishing to make use of sviatoslaf, decided to find out what sort of man he was. he therefore sent him presents of gold and fine clothes, but the grandson of rurik would scarcely look at them and told his warriors to take them away. when the emperor heard this, he sent him a fine sword and other weapons; these were accepted with every token of satisfaction by sviatoslaf. when the emperor was informed of the result, he exclaimed: "this must be a fierce man, because he despises wealth and accepts a sword as tribute." this did not prevent the emperor, who had a private quarrel with peter, czar of bulgaria, from urging sviatoslaf to make war upon (p.  ) his enemy. the russian gave a hearty consent, and in a very short time he captured several fortresses and peréiaslaf, the capital, fell into his hands. he determined to transfer his capital there, and when he returned to kief, he told his mother of the city on the danube. "the place," he said, "is the central point of my territory, and abounds in wealth. precious goods, gold, wine, and all kinds of fruit, come from greece. silver and horses are brought from the country of the czechs and hungarians, and the russians bring money, furs, wax, and slaves." meanwhile the emperor of constantinople was dead; his successor, john zimisces was a very different man, who preferred having a weak bulgarian ruler as his neighbor, instead of an empire which, even at that time, extended from lakes ladoga and onega to the balkans. he, therefore, made up his mind to oust the russians. sviatoslaf had left bulgaria, but he returned and reconquered it, when he received a demand from the new emperor to execute the treaty entered into with his predecessor, that is, to leave bulgaria. sviatoslaf replied proudly that he expected to visit the emperor at constantinople before long, but zimisces, a brave and able man, took measures to prevent it. before sviatoslaf expected him, zimisces attacked and defeated the russians in the defiles of the balkan, and soon after stormed and captured peréiaslaf. eight thousand russians withdrew into the castle, which they defended heroically. they refused to surrender and, when the castle was set on fire, they perished in the flames. when sviatoslaf heard of this disaster, he advanced against the (p.  ) emperor. the greek historian says that the russian army was , men strong, but nestor gives the number at , . the two armies met and both fought with desperate valor, but at last the russians gave way before the furious charges of the greek cavalry--the ironsides--and withdrew to dorostol. zimisces started in pursuit, and laid siege to the city where the same courage was displayed. after sviatoslaf drew his men up out of the city and prepared to give battle, zimisces proposed to him to decide the issue by a personal fight, but the offer was declined. "i know better than my enemy what i have to do," said sviatoslaf. "if he is weary of life, there are a thousand ways by which he can end his days." the battle ended in defeat for the russians who, leo the deacon tells us, left , dead, and , shields on the battlefield. sviatoslaf was compelled to come to terms. zimisces permitted him and what remained of his army to return to russia, after he had sworn by perun and voloss that he would never again invade the empire, but would help in defending it against its enemies. if he broke his oath, he wished that he might "become as yellow as gold, and perish by his own arms." zimisces showed the nobility of a brave man. he sent messengers to a warlike tribe requesting a free passage for the russians; but this tribe was anxious to seize the opportunity. sviatoslaf and his men were attacked near the cataracts of the dnieper; he was killed, but most of his men escaped. (a.d. .) [illustration: vladimir] (p.  ) iv--saint vladimir and iaroslaf the great. (p.  ) sviatoslaf had divided the empire among his three sons; he left novgorod to vladimir, the eldest; oleg, the second, was made prince of the drevlians, and the youngest, iaropolk, received kief. as happens often, none of the three was satisfied with his share, and civil wars followed. oleg was killed by iaropolk, whereupon the youngest son of sviatoslaf was slain by his brother vladimir, who thus became the sole heir and successor to his father. his first act was to make war upon poland. he compelled it to restore red russia or old gallicia, a territory in our time divided into seven governments, or provinces. he also reduced two revolted tribes, and forced the lithuanians and livonians to pay tribute. at the beginning of his reign, vladimir showed an unusual devotion to the old slav gods. he erected idols on the sandy cliffs of kief; that of perun had a head of silver and a beard of gold. it seems that after some time he became displeased with this religion and, nestor tells us, he grew anxious to know what religion was the best. he, therefore, sent deputies to bulgaria to study the moslem or mohammedan creed, and to the khazars, who occupied the plain between the bug and the (p.  ) volga, to make inquiries about the jewish faith. from the poles and germans he wanted to know all about the roman catholic church, and at constantinople he expected to learn of the greek faith. when these deputies returned and reported to him, vladimir selected the greek church, which choice was approved by his drujina; "if the greek religion had not been the best, your grandmother olga, the wisest of mortals, would not have adopted it," said they. thus vladimir became a convert; but his method of showing it was rather peculiar. he might have been baptized by the bishop of kief; or, if he had applied at constantinople, the emperor would gladly have sent him a high prelate to perform the service. instead of this, vladimir collected an army and marched against kherson,--the last city in russia held by the byzantine. it was taken by means of treachery, and from this city vladimir sent to constantinople to demand in marriage the sister of the two emperors basil and constantine. although the emperors did not like the proposed connection, they consented because they feared an invasion, but made it a condition that vladimir should be baptized. the ceremony was performed at kherson; soon after the bride arrived and the marriage took place in the same city. when he returned to kief, he carried with him the priests and sacred ornaments taken from the churches of kherson. upon his return to kief, he began missionary work by his own peculiar methods. his first orders were to pull down the idols; during the execution the people wept, moaned, and wrung their hands. perun's image was handsomely flogged and thrown into the dnieper. since it (p.  ) was made of wood, it soon came to the surface, which was looked upon as a miracle by the people who rushed down to worship it. but vladimir's soldiers gave it another bath, and this time it was caught by the current and drifted away. the cliff where it stood is still known at kief as "the devil's leap," and the spot where perun floated ashore, is shown to visitors. after thus getting rid of the idols, vladimir commanded the people of kief, men, women, and children, to plunge into the dnieper, which had been consecrated for the occasion, that they might be baptized. when they had obeyed his order, the priests read the service, so that after entering into the river as heathen, they left it as christians. the people of novgorod were converted in the same swift and practical manner, since no attention was paid to their objections. heathen temples were next converted into churches, which were decorated by greek artists. vladimir erected at kief the church of st. basil, on the place where perun's image had stood. numerous other churches were built; he also founded schools where the bible was taught in the slav language. at first the people objected to send their children, because they looked upon reading and writing as magic. but vladimir had persuasive ways, and was not likely to be deterred by such opposition. nestor admired him very much. he says that vladimir was a different man after he had been converted; that he was so afraid of committing a sin, that he hesitated to inflict capital punishment, until the bishop reminded him that crime must be punished. he also divided his income among the churches, and thus became the saint (p.  ) vladimir of russia. popular ballads keep alive the memory of the first christian prince. he is often mentioned in them as "the beautiful sun" of kief. it cannot be supposed that the russian people were converted at once into good christians by vladimir's forceful method. several centuries were to pass away before the peasants could be induced to part with their heathen customs. the priests preferred to let them remain under a christian name. there is something mystic in the slav character. he nurses the belief in magicians and sorcerers, which has never been uprooted. it is seen at present in the worship of the _eikon_ or saint's image. vladimir died in . he, too, divided russia among his numerous sons. one of them, iaroslaf, received novgorod, where he began to interfere with the rights of the people. a deputation of leading citizens came to him with a protest. he ordered their arrest and condemned them to death. meanwhile vladimir's other heirs had indulged in the usual quarrels and wars, until it seemed as if sviatopolk, a nephew, would become the sole ruler. iaroslaf then called the principal people of novgorod together, and threw himself upon their generosity. they forgave him and promised their support. they kept their word, and after a long and bloody war he entered kief as his father's successor. iaroslaf was unfortunate in a war with the byzantine empire. the russian fleet was badly defeated in the bosphorus; , men were killed, and prisoners were taken to constantinople. of greater importance was iaroslaf's work at home. he built (p.  ) churches and monasteries; st. sophia church was the pride of kief; the monastery of the catacombs still draws pilgrims from all parts of russia. kief became known as "the city of four hundred churches." he also founded a school for three hundred boys at novgorod, thereby showing that russia at that time was second to no european nation. kief, under his reign, was one of the most prosperous cities. this was due to her situation on the dnieper and her trade with the byzantine empire, to the great fertility of the black earth land, and to iaroslaf's connection by marriage with the reigning families of europe. of his daughters elizabeth was the wife of the king of norway, anne of the king of france, and anastasia of the king of hungary; his sister mary was married to the king of poland, and his sons had married into royal families. merchants from holland, germany, hungary, and scandinavia were established at kief. the dnieper was alive with merchant vessels, and she counted eight markets. it is evident that iaroslaf took pains to protect and advance commerce. he had coins minted with his slav name on one side, and his christian name ioury (george), on the other. perhaps his greatest work is the code of laws established by him, known as the _russkaïa pravda_ or russian right. though necessarily primitive, it was a long step in advance of that time. it followed chiefly the ideas of right and wrong according to the conceptions of the scandinavians. at this time, although the dignity of _kniaz_, duke or prince, was (p.  ) hereditary in the family of rurik, it was understood by all parties that the reign of the prince depended upon the consent of his subjects, and perhaps more still upon that of his drujina. a story is told that in vladimir's time the drujina complained that they were made to eat from wooden bowls, whereupon he gave them silver ones, saying: i could not buy myself a drujina with gold and silver; but with a drujina, i can acquire gold and silver, as did my father and my grandfather. ever since kief had been the residence of rurik's descendants, they had been recognized as grand dukes, because they represented the eldest of the descendants. they did not, as a rule, interfere with the administration, but were the dukes, the commanders of the armies. many districts had such a duke, who was, however, invariably of the blood of rurik, and recognized the superior authority as the eldest of the blood. when the grand duke of kief died, he was not succeeded by his son, unless he had neither uncle nor brother living; but it was within the power of the grand duke to leave one or more districts to his sons. the descendants of the norsemen were, therefore, the defenders of the districts which they ruled as dukes. novgorod and pskof were republics on the northwest frontier, and usually had the same duke. smolensk was an important dukedom, because it contained the sources of the volga, the dnieper, and the dwina, and embraced the ancient forest of okof. not far from it was the dukedom of toropetz. on the upper oka was tchernigof--a rival of kief; further to the south was novgorod-swerki, and east of the upper don, extending as far as the oka, were (p.  ) riazan and mourom. the dukedom of souzdal, inhabited by a mixture of finns and slavs, was in the north, the soil still covered by forests. southeast russia embraced red russia, that is volhynia and gallicia proper. the introduction of the greek church caused important changes. the greek priests could not comprehend the relation between the people and its defenders. to them the duke was not a _dux_ (leader), but a cæsar, kaiser, or czar, ruling, not with the consent of the governed, but by the grace of god, as did the emperors at constantinople. this idea gradually penetrated into the minds of the several dukes, until it was accepted and enforced by them. another very important change was effected by the greek religion. we have seen that according to the old slav customs, it was not the son who succeeded as the head of the family, but its eldest member. it appears that the same custom prevailed among the norsemen, as we have seen that it was rurik's brother, and not his son who succeeded him. in the byzantine empire, the oldest son was the heir, and the priests tried to introduce this as a law. as the descendants of rurik increased in number, it was not always easy to determine who was entitled to the succession. hence there were often several claimants, and as a result, civil wars followed. these wars, strange as it may appear, served to bind the dukedoms together, because most of them were waged for the purpose of establishing the claim of a duke upon the possession of kief. iaroslaf died in , and was buried in the church of st. sophia (p.  ) at kief. in his will we see the effect of the greek church, for he specially appointed his eldest son isiaslaf as his successor. a younger brother, sviatoslaf, took up arms, and expelled him in . upon his death in , isiaslaf returned to kief, where he lived two years. he died in , and was succeeded by his brother vsevolod, who was grand duke until , when he was succeeded by sviatopolk, the son of isiaslaf, as the eldest of the family. he was not opposed by vsevolod's famous son vladimir monomachus, who admitted that sviatopolk's "father was older than mine, and reigned first in kief." v--a russian republic. (p.  ) sviatopolk reigned from to . it was at this time that russia was disturbed by two civil wars. at the instance of vladimir monomachus a congress of dukes met in , at loubetch on the dnieper to discuss the folly of civil wars which placed the country at the mercy of its enemies. an agreement was concluded, wherein the dukes swore upon the cross that "henceforth the russian land shall be considered the country of us all, and whoso shall dare arm himself against his brother, shall be our common enemy." soon after this a quarrel broke out about the succession of volhynia, and again the country was plunged into civil strife, which lasted two years. in another congress was held at vititchevo, on the left bank of the dnieper, where the dispute was settled, and it was resolved to unite in a war with a powerful nomad people. the russians under vladimir monomachus gained a brilliant victory; the nomads had seventeen khans killed on the battlefield. when sviatopolk died, the people of kief declared that they would have no grand duke except vladimir. he declined saying that there were elder heirs entitled to the succession; but when troubles broke out in the city, he gave his consent. during his reign of twelve years, (p.  ) from to , kief reached the height of prosperity and power. he reduced souzdal, in the north, to submission, and made many improvements. his memory is cherished in russia. he compiled a set of instructions for his sons, from which we may judge of his character. among other remarks, he says: "it is neither by fasting, nor solitude, nor the life in a cloister that will procure for you the life eternal,--it is doing good. do not forget the poor but feed them. do not bury your wealth in the bosom of the earth, for that is contrary to the precepts of christianity. be a father to orphans, judge the cause of widows yourself." "put to death no one be he innocent or guilty, for nothing is more precious than the soul of a christian." "when you have learned anything useful, try to preserve it in your memory, and strive ceaselessly to acquire knowledge. without ever leaving his palace, my father spoke five languages, _a thing that foreigners admire in us_." there are in the museum at moscow, a throne and crown, supposed to have belonged to this noble and patriotic duke; unfortunately it has been shown that they were never in his possession. in his will, vladimir gave the dukedom of souzdal to his son george dolgorouki, and another son, mstislaf, succeeded as grand duke at kief. when the latter died in , leaving the grand dukedom to his son isiaslaf, george dolgorouki claimed the succession as the eldest of the family. both sides were supported by their friends, and some fierce battles were fought, but isiaslaf maintained himself until his death in . after his reign, kief's importance began to (p.  ) decrease. twelve years later, in , it was captured by the russians of the north. a native historian[ ] says of this event: "this mother of russian cities had been many times besieged and oppressed. she had often opened her golden gate to her enemies, but none had ever yet entered by force. to their eternal shame, the victors forgot that they, too, were russians! during three days not only the houses, but the cloisters, churches, and even the temples of st. sophia and the dîme, were given over to pillage. the precious images, the sacerdotal ornaments, the books, and the bells,--all were carried off." [footnote : karamsin.] with the fall of kief, the scene of russian activity shifts to the north. there, in the dukedom of souzdal, george dolgorouki laid, in , the foundation of a town, moscow, on a height overlooking the moscowa. for many years it remained an obscure village, and gave no sign of its future greatness. the chief interest at this time centers about the russian republics, novgorod, pskof, and viatka. although novgorod did not possess the advantages of kief, since its soil was sandy, marshy, and unproductive, the enterprise of its people made it the wealthiest and most populous city of russia. it is recorded that it counted , inhabitants, when rurik arrived in russia. he and his immediate successors were satisfied with the position of defender, which suited their warlike and blunt character, and with the revenues assigned to them, which with the spoils taken from the enemy, were ample for their wants. these republics were administered by a vetché or municipal (p.  ) council, with a possadnik or burgomaster, whose duty it was to see that the city's privileges were preserved, and who distributed the taxes. he shared with the duke in the administration of justice. there was a militia for the defense of the people's rights, commanded by a _tysatski_. every ward of the city had a _starost_, charged with preserving the peace. it is said that a written constitution, partaking of the nature of the magna charta, was granted to novgorod by iaroslaf the great. the duke's rights and privileges, his duties and his revenues, were carefully set down. he was entitled to the tribute of some of the volosts,--cantons or counties,--and to certain fines; he could gather in his harvests at stated times, and was not permitted to hunt in the forest except in the autumn. he could neither execute nor annul a judgment without the approval of the possadnik, and he was expressly forbidden to carry a lawsuit beyond novgorod. every duke, before he entered upon his office, was compelled to take an oath to this constitution. the members of the vetché were elected by a unanimous vote, instead of by a majority. this gave rise to frequent, and sometimes very serious disorder, because if a minority did not approve of the candidate, they were apt to be ill-treated. there were occasions when two rival vetchés were elected, and when this happened in the two parts of the city divided by the river volkhof, the bridge between them was often the scene of a free fight. owing to the extensive trade connections, the merchants trading with western europe by way of the baltic sought to promote friendly relations with the dukes of the west, who had (p.  ) it in their power to promote or obstruct their trade; but the merchants dealing with asia, and those who connected with constantinople had other interests to consider and to guard. thus there were often three parties, each concerned with its own interests, and forgetting that their prosperity was first and chiefly dependent upon the power of the republic, they rendered it an easy prey for an ambitious duke. the people, however, boasted of their patriotism, and during the early period they were strong enough to defy the duke. on some occasions, he and his drujina were expelled, or, as they expressed it, "the people made him a reverence, and showed him a way to leave." sometimes, too, it happened that the duke was made a prisoner, and confined in the archbishop's palace. when sviatopolk was grand duke of kief ( - ), he wished to force one of his sons upon the people of novgorod. "send him along," said they, "if he has a head to spare!" usually the duke was glad to leave novgorod, if he could secure another dukedom. in , vsevolod gabriel left novgorod to become duke of peréiaslaf, hoping to succeed as grand duke of kief. seeing no way to attain the coveted dignity, he signified his wish to return to the people of novgorod. "you have forgotten your oath to die with us," they replied; "you have sought another dukedom; now you may go where you please." in this case, however, the people changed their mind, and did take him back; but four years afterwards they expelled him, declaring that "he took no care of the poor people; he desired to establish himself at peréiaslaf; at the battle of mount idanof against the men of souzdal, he and his drujina were the first to leave the (p.  ) battlefield; he was fickle in the quarrels of the dukes, sometimes joining one party and sometimes the other." so long as the descendants of rurik remained satisfied with their position, novgorod had enough men and resources to maintain its independence; but more than that was required after the dukes had tasted of the sweets of unlimited power. george dolgorouki had established colonies in souzdal. the land was his, the colonists were his subjects. he was no longer merely the defender, he was the owner, not the duke, but the prince. there was no vetché or popular assembly in his possessions. his son, andrew bogolioubski, was brought up and educated amid these conditions, more in conformity with those prevailing in greece and other parts of europe, where the people were supposed to exist for the sole benefit of their prince. it was he who ruined kief, and the fall of that city foretold the doom of novgorod. "the fall of kief," says a russian author,[ ] "seemed to foreshadow the loss of novgorod liberty; it was the same army, and it was the same prince who commanded it. but the people of kief, accustomed to change their masters,--to sacrifice the vanquished to the victors,--only fought for the honor of their dukes, while those of novgorod were to shed their blood for the defense of the laws and institutions established by their ancestors." [footnote : karamsin.] during his father's life, andrew left his castle on the dnieper, and moved northward to vladimir which town he enlarged, and where he founded a quarter named bogolioubovo, whence his name of bogolioubski. (p.  ) after the death of george dolgorouki, andrew first made a successful campaign against the bulgarians, and then, after sacking kief, he turned his attention toward novgorod, where he had established one of his nephews. the cause of the quarrel is not known, but andrew began by compelling the neighboring dukes to join him, and overran the territory of the republic with fire and sword. the people of novgorod, remembering the fate of kief, were prepared to die in the defense of the city. the siege commenced. one day the archbishop took the eikon--image--of the virgin, which was carried around in solemn procession. it was struck by an arrow shot by a souzdalian soldier, when miraculous tears appeared upon its face. the besiegers were struck by a panic, and the people of novgorod sallied out, killed a number of the enemy, and took so many prisoners that "you could get six souzdalians for a grivna." whatever may have been the value of that coin, the market was evidently overstocked with souzdalians. foiled in this attempt, andrew tried other means. he prohibited the sale of grain to the people of novgorod, who were thereby compelled to make peace. they did not surrender any of their privileges but accepted as their duke the prince selected by andrew. his next war was with mstislaf the brave, duke of smolensk, who, aided by his brothers, had taken kief. andrew sent a herald to him demanding the evacuation of kief, and imposing a fine upon each brother. mstislaf who, the russians say, "feared none but god," gave orders to have the herald's head and beard shaved,--a gross insult at that (p.  ) time,--and then dismissed him, saying: "go and repeat these words unto your master,--'up to this time we have respected you like a father, but since you do not blush to treat us as your vassals and common people, since you have forgotten that you speak to princes, we laugh at your threats. execute them!--we appeal to the judgment of god.'" the challenge was accepted, and andrew was defeated. the duke of souzdal did not relax in his attempts to established absolute government. it was with this purpose in view that he expelled his three brothers, and made friends of the priests. kief was still the residence of the _metropolitan_ or head of the greek church in russia, and andrew was anxious that he should transfer his residence to vladimir so as to make that city the religious center of russia. his wish was not gratified. he failed in everything, except in making enemies by his disregard of law. he was murdered in in his favorite palace at bogolioubovo, by his own _boyards_ or nobles. vi--troublous times. (p.  ) the death of andrew was a welcome relief for the people of novgorod. they celebrated it by attacking the houses of the rich, and committed so many excesses that the priests made a procession with the eikons. in souzdal there was trouble about the succession. two of andrew's brothers returned from exile, and claimed the dukedom, and the city of vladimir gave them its support. that was enough for souzdal and rostof to recognize another claimant, one of andrew's nephews. vladimir was victorious in the contest, and andrew's brother, michael, became grand duke of souzdal. he died two years afterwards, and the people of souzdal once more refused to recognize vladimir's candidate, andrew's other brother vsevolod, surnamed the big nest on account of his numerous family. vladimir defeated souzdal and vsevolod was its grand duke from to . the people of novgorod thought best to pacify him. they sent a deputation to vladimir, to tell vsevolod, "lord and grand duke, our country is your patrimony; we entreat you to send us the grandson of george dolgorouki, the great-grandson of monomachus, to govern us." the request was granted, and vsevolod's eldest son constantine came to novgorod. the grand duke, however, was soon (p.  ) displeased with him and displaced him by a younger son, iaroslaf. soon there were quarrels between him and the people, whereupon iaroslaf moved to torjok, a town within novgorod territory, and from there stopped all supplies. famine appeared in the city, and at last envoys were sent to the duke, who had them arrested. nothing except absolute submission would satisfy him. in this dire need help came from an unexpected quarter. mstislaf the bold, son of mstislaf the brave, duke of smolensk, heard of novgorod's plight and sent word to the city, "torjok shall not hold itself higher than novgorod. i will deliver your lands and citizens, or leave my bones among you." he was as good as his word. there was a great war between souzdal and smolensk; no quarter was asked or given. in , vsevolod's sons were attacked at lipetsk by the troops of novgorod and smolensk, with such fury that they were routed, and , were killed whereas only were taken prisoners. iaroslaf renounced novgorod and released the citizens arrested by him. constantine succeeded his father vsevolod, but died in , and another brother, george, became grand duke of souzdal. this prince made an expedition down the volga, levying tribute as he proceeded. in , he laid the foundation of nishni novgorod, and of several villages in what was then moravian territory. meanwhile mstislaf the bold resigned as grand duke of novgorod in an assembly of the people, saying, "i salute st. sophia, the tomb of my father,[ ] and you. people of novgorod, i am going to reconquer galitch from the strangers, but i shall never forget you. i hope (p.  ) i may lie by the tomb of my father in st. sophia." the people implored him to remain; but he had made up his mind, and in he left for the southwest, where he did succeed in conquering galitch, that is the name given to southwestern russia at that time. [footnote : mstislaf the brave was buried in the church of st. sophia.] after his departure the people of novgorod called his nephew sviatoslaf as their grand duke, but soon there was a quarrel. the possadnik tferdislaf caused the arrest of one of the wealthy citizens, whose friends rose to set him free. then the burgomaster's friends came and there was a fight in which ten men were killed. the grand duke then demanded the dismissal of the burgomaster, and the vetché assembled to hear both sides. the grand duke was asked what crime the possadnik had committed. "none," he replied, "but it is my will that he be dismissed." the burgomaster then said: "i am satisfied, because i am not accused of any fault; as for you, my brothers, you can dismiss alike possadniks and dukes." the vetché consulted, and announced its decision: "prince, since you do not accuse the possadnik of any fault, remember that you have sworn to depose no magistrate without trial. tferdislaf will remain our possadnik,--we will not deliver him to you." sviatoslaf was very much displeased and resigned, and one of his brothers, vsevolod, was appointed in his place. this was in ; two years later, in , vsevolod was expelled, and the people called back that same iaroslaf from whom they had been rescued by mstislaf the bold. soon there was another dispute and _he_ was sent about (p.  ) his business. vsevolod of smolensk was again made duke, but the people soon grew tired of him. at this time the grand duke of souzdal interfered; he made novgorod pay him tribute, and appointed a prince of tchernigof as its duke; but he did not like the place and resigned. then the city suffered from a famine, when , citizens perished and a fire destroyed a whole quarter of the city. iaroslaf was made duke for the fourth time; the spirit of the people was broken, and he was permitted to rule over them as he pleased. he succeeded as grand duke in , when he left his son alexander nevski as duke in novgorod. the east coast of the baltic was considered tributary to novgorod. several colonies had been established on the düna and south of that river, but in the th and th centuries missionaries and merchants from germany appeared and gradually penetrated as far as the düna where bishop meinhard, in , built a roman catholic church and a fortress. the livonians were converted much as st. vladimir had made christians of the people of kief; but in this case, the people of livonia revolted; in the second bishop was killed in battle, and the natives returned to the heathen gods. pope innocent iii ordered a crusade against them. another bishop sailed up the düna with a fleet of twenty-three ships, and in founded riga. the year after a religious society, the sword-bearers, resembling the templars, was installed in livonia, and the natives appealed to the duke of polotsk for help. they marched upon riga and were defeated in . german colonization proceeded actively under the sword-bearers. (p.  ) several cities were founded, and the country was divided into fiefs, according to the feudal system of western europe. the towns were modeled after hamburg, bremen, and lübeck. riga grew into a large and powerful city. in , another religious-brotherhood, the teutonic order, entered into lithuania, and twelve years later the two orders united. the introduction of the roman catholic religion carried with it the elements of roman civilization, and did much toward estranging the natives of the baltic provinces from the russians of the east. southwestern russia, or galitch, had, more than any other section, preserved the old slav character. "the duke was a prince of the old slavonic type. he was elected by a popular assembly, and kept his seat by its consent."[ ] the assembly was composed of boyards or nobles, and sometimes disputes occurred between them and the duke, which ended in more or less serious disorders. in , the position was offered to roman, duke of volhynia. he accepted, but before he could enter the capital, a duke who had been expelled was reinstalled. after his death, roman entered the territory of galitch, not as an elected duke, but as a conqueror at the head of an army, and treated the dukedom as a conquest. he was especially cruel to the boyards, treating their rights and privileges with scorn. russian authors praise him; one of them says that he "walked in the ways of god, exterminated the heathen, flung himself like a lion upon the infidels, _was savage as a wild cat, deadly as a crocodile_, swooped down on his prey like an (p.  ) eagle," which seem strange qualities for praise. roman died in battle, in . mstislaf the bold conquered galitch and at his death, in , his son-in-law daniel became duke. [footnote : kostomarof.] we have seen that, in the th century, russia was divided into a number of small states, most of them under a duke, but all possessing some degree of liberty, except in the north where the duke was being changed into an hereditary monarch. we have also seen that russia was part of europe, and that commercial relations were maintained. at the same time, just as there had been an invisible but none the less real dividing line between the eastern roman, or byzantine, empire and the west of europe, so with the adoption of the greek church, russia inherited the oriental type and principles which separated that form of christianity from that of rome. thus the slight split grew gradually into a schism, as western europe progressed with every evolution of the roman church, whereas russia remained stationary. byzantium or constantinople, situated at the easternmost edge of europe, owing to its intimate association with the persians who, at the time represented the oriental character, was more of an oriental than a western city; its sympathies were also with its neighbors of the east. there was thus an oriental tendency in russia as well as in the byzantine empire, and this vague sentiment enabled russia to bend before a blast, which would have withered any nation of a more pronounced occidental character. vii--the yellow peril. (p.  ) on the borders of the chinese empire, in the northeast of asia, roamed a mongol tribe, known as the tartars or tatars. a chinese author of that time, described them as follows: "the ta-tzis[ ] or das occupy themselves exclusively with their flocks; they go wandering ceaselessly from pasture to pasture, from river to river. they are ignorant of the nature of a town or a wall. they are ignorant of writing and books; their treaties are concluded orally. from infancy they are accustomed to ride, to aim their arrows at rats and birds, and thus acquire the courage essential to their life of wars and destruction. they have neither religious ceremonies nor judicial institutions. from the prince to the lowest among the people, all are fed by the flesh of the animals whose skin they use for clothing. the strongest among them have the largest and fattest morsels at feasts; the old men are put off with the fragments that are left. they respect nothing but strength and courage; age and weakness are condemned." [footnote : ta, great; hence: the great tzis.] the people were, therefore, nomads, moving their flocks as necessity required, and occasionally making a raid upon a neighboring town. "they move on horseback;" says the chinese author; "when they wish to capture a town, they fall on the suburban villages. each leader (p.  ) seizes ten men, and every prisoner is forced to carry a certain quantity of wood, stones, and other material. they use these for filling up moats or to dig trenches. in the capture of a town the loss of a myriad men was thought nothing. no place could resist them. after a siege, the entire population was massacred, without distinction of old or young, rich or poor, beautiful or ugly, those who resisted or those who yielded; no distinguished person escaped death, if a defense was attempted." these nomad tartars were united by and under genghis khan ( - ), one of their chiefs or khans. he summoned all the khans of the several tribes, and before them took the title of emperor over all, declaring that, as there was only one sun in heaven, so there should be but one emperor on earth. at the head of his tribes, genghis conquered manchuria and north china; then he moved west. he himself remained in asia, but two of his lieutenants proceeded in that direction, subduing the tribes on their way, and often joined by them. the long march had rendered the tartars inured to hardship and wholly indifferent to danger. at last they passed by the southern shore of the caspian sea, and, crossing the caucasus, commenced the invasion of europe. the march of such a host could not be kept secret. when the polovtsi, the old enemies of russia, heard of the approach, they sent for help to the christian dukes. "when they have taken our country, they will take yours," they said. mstislaf the bold of galitch, urged that the assistance be granted, and the chief of the polovtsi agreed to (p.  ) enter the greek church. the russians assembled on the lower dnieper, where they were approached by some tatar envoys who told them that they had "come by god's command against our slaves and grooms, the accursed polovtsi. be at peace with us; we have no quarrel with you." the envoys were arrested and put to death. the russian army then moved eastward, and met the tartar host at the kalka, a small river running into the sea of azof. instead of waiting for the troops still on the way, mstislaf the bold and his friends began the battle. while it was at its height, the polovtsi were seized by a panic and, falling back, threw the russians into disorder. the russian army was routed; six dukes and seventy high boyards were left dead on the battlefield, and hardly a tenth of the army escaped. the grand duke of kief still occupied a fortified camp on the kalka. the tartars offered to allow him and his drujina to retire upon payment of a ransom. he accepted, and was attacked by the tartars after he had left his fortifications. he and his two sons were stifled under boards, and his guard was massacred. the tartars at this time needed all their men to complete the conquest of china, and therefore the armies invading europe were recalled, after southern russia was at their mercy. the russians did not inquire into the cause of this relief, but resumed their old life, confident that all danger was past. when the tartars had made themselves masters of china, bati, a nephew of genghis, was dispatched westward to mark further conquests. he did not follow the same route but passed south of the ural mountains. thirteen years after the battle of the kalka, bati besieged and (p.  ) took the capital of the bulgars, east of the grand dukedom of souzdal ( ). as soon as the dukes of central russia heard this, they united against the tartars, but the grand duke of souzdal refused to join them. the tartars sent envoys to the allied dukes. "if you want peace," they said, "give us the tenth of your goods." "when we are dead," was the proud reply, "you can have the whole." a battle was fought in which the russians were crushed. nearly all the dukes died on the battlefield; riazan was stormed, sacked, and burned, and the other towns of that dukedom met the same fate. it was now the turn of souzdal. the army of the grand duke was defeated on the oka; moscow was burned and vladimir besieged. after an heroic defense, the tartars took the city by assault, and many russians were burned in the cathedral which was set on fire. leaving ruin in their wake, the tartars went in search of the grand duke who had taken a position on the sit, near the frontiers of novgorod. here another battle was fought ending in disaster for the russians. the headless corpse of the grand duke was found by the bishop of rostof. on swept the asiatic hoards, as if nothing would stop them. at torjok, "russian heads fell beneath the sword of the tartars as grass beneath the scythe." leaving souzdal behind, they entered the territory of novgorod; but the dense forests and swollen rivers delayed them, and when within fifty miles of the city, they turned southeast. the little town of kozelsk[ ] did not surrender but inflicted such a loss upon the invaders that they mentioned it as "the wicked city." when it (p.  ) was captured, every man, woman, and child, was butchered. [footnote : where kalouga now stands.] the years and were spent in ravaging southern russia. peréiaslaf and tchernigof, after a desperate defense, were burned, and the tartars under command of genghis's grandson mangou, marched upon kief. mangou offered terms, but kief, knowing the fate of other cities, executed mangou's envoys. the grand duke and his rival, daniel of galitch, fled from the city, but the people fought for their lives. mangou was reënforced by bati's army and the siege began. the walls were knocked to pieces by battering rams. "the people of kief, led by the brave dmitri, a gallician boyard, defended the battered ramparts till the end of the day, and then retreated to the church of the dîme, which they surrounded by a palisade. the last defenders of kief were grouped round the tomb of iaroslaf. the next day they perished. mangou gave the boyard his life, but the mother of russian cities was sacked. this third pillage was the most terrible; even the tombs were not respected. all that remains of the church of the dîme is only a few fragments of mosaic in the museum at kief. saint sophia and the monastery of the catacombs were delivered up to be plundered." kief fell in . there remained only volhynia and gallicia, which also bowed under the tartar yoke. with the exception of novgorod and the northwest, russia was in possession of the yellow race. the russian dukes who had escaped carried the tale to western europe which was soon in a state of alarm. the emperor of germany wrote to the other monarchs: (p.  ) "this is the moment to open the eyes of body and soul, now that the brave princes on whom we depended are dead or in slavery." the pope called upon the christian princes to take up arms. meanwhile bati continued his westward march and penetrated as far as moravia, when he was recalled by the death of the second tartar emperor. he withdrew to russia and on the volga built a city which he named saraï--the castle,--which became the capital of a tartar empire extending from the ural river and caspian sea to the mouth of the danube, and is known as the golden horde. the first three successors of genghis khan are known as the great khans, and ruled over all the tartars; but after kublaï khan established himself in china, in , the golden horde declared its independence. so long as bati lived, this khanate was united and powerful, but after his death, in , it gradually lost strength. in , these tartars became mahomedans and spread that faith. the golden horde enjoyed another period of prosperity under the khan uzbeck. how did the russians bear this blow? we have seen that iaroslaf, the duke who had been expelled so many times from novgorod, became grand duke of souzdal. he found the country in souzdal in ruins. nothing was left of the towns and villages but charred remains; the inhabitants who had survived the tartar massacres had fled into the forests. iaroslaf's first work was to induce them to return and rebuild their homes. the tartar general bati heard of this and sent word to iaroslaf to come to him. the grand duke dared not refuse. he went to saraï (p.  ) on the volga where bati told him that he might continue as grand duke, but that it would be best for him to pay a visit to the great khan, who was then on the amoor in the far eastern part of asia. iaroslaf agreed; he started on his long journey, and after many months of travel through deserts and wastes, he arrived at the headquarters of the tartars. there he was compelled to kneel before oktaï, the successor of genghis. it appears that some russian boyards had preceded iaroslaf hoping to secure favors from the khan, and that they accused the grand duke, but oktaï refused to listen to them. after some delay iaroslaf was confirmed as grand duke, and permitted to return, but he died from exhaustion in the desert, in . his remains were brought to vladimir. iaroslaf left two sons, andrew, who succeeded him in souzdal, and alexander who was duke at novgorod. this younger son was an able as well as a brave man. on one occasion, when the scandinavians had invaded novgorod's territory aided by the catholic orders, alexander had gained a great victory on the neva, from which he is known in history as alexander nevski ( ). upon his return to novgorod he had a dispute with the vetché, and he left the city. after his departure the territory of the republic was invaded by the german sword-bearers who erected a fort on the neva, captured pskof, novgorod's ally, and plundered merchants within a short distance of the walls. the people sent to alexander nevski, begging him to come to their rescue, and after several refusals he consented. alexander collected an army, drove the germans out of pskof and their new fort, and at last (p.  ) defeated them on the ice of lake peipus in . this is known as the battle on the ice. alexander then returned to novgorod where he was received with honor and joy. andrew, the grand duke of souzdal, alexander's brother, refused to recognize bati's authority, whereupon a tartar army ravaged his territory for the second time. novgorod, as we have seen, had escaped the tartar invasion, but when alexander nevski received a letter from bati, in which the khan said, "god has subjected many peoples to me, will you alone refuse to recognize my power? if you wish to keep your land, come to me; you will see the splendor and the glory of my government." the duke thought it prudent to comply. he and his brother andrew went to saraï, where honors were showered upon the hero of the neva. the two brothers were directed to visit the great khan, as their father iaroslaf had done. they did so; and the mongol emperor confirmed andrew as duke of souzdal, but to alexander's dukedom, he added kief and south russia. they returned from the far east in . viii--russia under the mongol yoke. (p.  ) the tartars did not interfere with the people, their institutions, or religion, but they demanded tribute in the form of an annual poll-tax. officers called baskaks went from house to house to collect it, either in money or in furs, and those who could not pay were sold as slaves. sometimes this collection caused disturbances. it was some time before the people of novgorod would submit. when bati sent his collectors to the republic, the question was brought before the vetché where the possadnik urged the wisdom of paying the tax, but the people would not hear of it and promptly murdered the unfortunate burgomaster. alexander, too, advised to avoid trouble, but the people refused and several boyards, including alexander's son vassili urged resistance. the duke acted vigorously. he ordered the arrest of his son, and had the boyards punished; but it was not before the people heard of the approach of a tartar army, that they submitted. still such was their resentment that alexander had the baskaks guarded night and day. at last alexander threatened to leave novgorod with his drujina; then the people offered no further opposition to the collection of the hated poll-tax ( ). two years later the people of souzdal, vladimir, and rostof rose against the baskaks and killed one of them, a russian (p.  ) who had become a mahomedan. alexander, who had succeeded his brother andrew as grand duke, decided to attempt to appease the khan by going himself to saraï with presents; he also wished to be excused from furnishing a body of russians to serve in the tartar army. he succeeded, but was kept at the court of the khan for a year. his health broke down and he died on his return journey in . the news of his death was brought to novgorod, as mass was being said in the cathedral. the metropolitan who was reading the service, interrupted it, and said, "learn, my dear children, that the sun of russia has set,--is dead," and the people cried, "we are lost." the death of alexander nevski was a heavy blow to russia. the russians, that is the people of russia whose story we are reading, did not mingle with any tartar except the tax collector whom they did not like. the victors were nomads, who did not care to occupy the land they had conquered. when they did settle at saraï on the lower volga, they absorbed the tribes who had lived there before the invasion, and who were not russians, but nomads. the russian _people_ did not associate with the conquerors. it was at this time that the word _krestianine_ or "true christian" was applied to the peasant, instead of the contemptuous term moujik. whatever asiatic characteristics were grafted upon the russians, came to them through their kniazes and boyards. the dukes soon showed that all they cared for, was to hold their positions. after alexander nevski, there is not a single instance of a desire to relieve the people; and the victors on their part never interfered so long as (p.  ) the tribute was paid regularly. the descendants of andrew bogolioubski were not disturbed in souzdal; those of roman continued to hold galitch and volhynia, and oleg's house remained in possession of tchernigof. the dukes might fight about kief; novgorod might appoint or expel its dukes,--the tartars did not mind. but the khan did insist that the dukes should visit him and pay him homage. he also reserved the right of approving the succession of a duke, who was compelled to apply for a written consent, called an _iarlikh_. on one occasion when the people of novgorod elected duke michael, they afterwards refused to recognize him, asserting that "it is true we have chosen michael, but on condition that he should show us the iarlikh." the dukes, holding their possessions by favor of the khan, tried to gain his good-will and favor. gleb, duke of biélozersk married in the khan's family about ; feodor of riazan was the son-in-law of the khan of the nogaïs. in , the grand duke george married kontchaka, sister of the khan uzbeck. it was the rulers, and not the people of russia, that quietly submitted to the _tartartchina_ or mongol yoke. the khans, while they did not care about the people took care that the dukes should show them slavish respect. in , the dukes were convoked, and when they were assembled a letter from the khan was read, in which they were commanded to stop fighting because the great khan desired to see peace established. whenever such a letter was brought, the dukes were directed to meet the envoys on foot, prostrate themselves, spread fine carpets under their feet, present them (p.  ) with a cup filled with gold pieces, and listen, kneeling, while the letter was read. children of the prairie and the desert, the tartars had neither a religion nor a civilization to impose upon the russian people. the khans were tolerant because they did not care. koïyuk had a christian chapel near his residence. in , the khan of saraï gave permission for the erection of a greek church in his capital, and he allowed a bishop to reside there. mangou gave equal privileges to christians, jews, and mahomedans. the dukes and boyards, paying court to the tartars, gradually adopted their mode of dressing and, as they became asiatic in appearance, they came under the influence of asiatic thought. they dressed in a long caftan or flowing robe, wore a sort of turban on the head, swords and daggers in their belts, and when on horseback, sat in very high saddles with short stirrups. dukes and boyards thus became semi-asiatic, and drifted away from the people among whom the national principle was kept alive. every succeeding visit to the khan served to increase the intimacy of the dukes and their asiatic masters. it was not many years before the relation with the great khan was severed, but that with the golden horde was kept alive. a writer[ ] living at that time, who visited saraï during bati's life, gives the following description: "it (the court) is crowded and brilliant. his army consists of , men, , of whom are tartars, and , strangers, christians as well as infidels. on good friday we were conducted to his tent, between two fires, because the tartars believe that a fire purifies (p.  ) everything, and robs even poison of its danger. _we had to make many prostrations_, and enter the tent without touching the threshold. bati was on his throne with one of his wives; his brothers, his children, and the tartar lords were seated on benches; the rest of the assembly were on the ground, the men on the right, the women on the left.... the khan and the lords of the court emptied from time to time cups of gold and silver, while the musicians made the air ring with their melodies. bati has a bright complexion; he is affable with his men, but inspires general terror." the same writer visited the court of the great khan, and in his description dwells upon the fact that it was not the tartars who were most terrible, but the russian dukes and nobles who accused one another and who sought to destroy their own countrymen by bribing the favorites. it was thus that duke michael of tchernigof was murdered in , and duke michael of tver in , by a russian hireling of the grand duke of moscow who was present when the foul deed was committed. servile submission to the khans, a haughty demeanor towards their own people, became the characteristics of the dukes. "the dukes of moscow," says a russian author,[ ] "took the humble title of servants of the khan, and it was by this means that they became powerful monarchs." an english writer[ ] comes to the following evident conclusion: "the first czars of muscovy were the political descendants, not of the russian dukes, but of the tartar khans." [footnote : planus corpinius.] [footnote : karamsin.] [footnote : wallace.] a gradual change came over the golden horde after the tartars (p.  ) departed from their nomadic life and settled in and about saraï. they lost their warlike habits, and with them much of their vigor. they began to farm out the poll-tax, that is, they sold the right to collect the tax to merchants of khiva, whose oppression was so great that the people of souzdal revolted in , koursk in , kolomna in , and tver in . but the oppression was greater when the dukes of moscow farmed this tax, not only from their own subjects, but also from neighboring dukedoms. they were absolutely pitiless in collecting from the poor people as much as they could extort, and this was the disgraceful foundation of their wealth and power. the poll-tax, thereafter, was always a favorite source of revenue in russia. besides this tribute, the dukes were compelled to furnish soldiers to their masters. soon after the conquest, we read of russian dukes marching with the tartars at the head of their drujinas, and of supplying them with infantry. in boris of rostof and others, followed mangou khan in the war against the tribes of the caucasus, and helped to sack the town of dediakof in daghestan. this was excusable, because the enemy was an alien; but what can be thought of prince andrew, the unworthy son of alexander nevski, who, in , induced the tartars to aid him in pillaging vladimir, souzdal, mourom, moscow, and peréiaslaf, and led in profaning churches and convents? in , when two descendants of oleg were dukes of koursk, one of them put his brother to death for having insulted the khan, and russian historians blame not the murderer, but the victim, because he had aroused the khan's anger! in , the dukes of moscow and souzdal (p.  ) marched against tver at the command of their asiatic master. such was the influence of the tartar yoke. the russian dukes and their nobles lost not only the principle of patriotism, but also that of personal honor. the unfortunate russians henceforth were to them, not fellow-countrymen but "_tcherné_" "black people." the khans, with true political instinct looking to the perpetuation of this condition, gained the friendship of the church, as they had that of the dukes. in , the khan uzbeck, at the request of the metropolitan or head of the church of moscow, ordered that the church should retain its privileges, and that it should not be deprived of its property, because, he says, "these possessions are sacred, as they belong to men whose prayers preserve our lives and strengthen our armies." the churches and convents grew enormously rich. they received gifts of land, and the priests, so bribed, allied themselves with the heathen masters, and aided further in oppressing the people. the descendants of the dukes and drujinas lost the large and generous impulses of the old norsemen, to make way for the asiatic deformities of treachery, cruelty, cunning, and disregard of honor. whatever came in the way of their own interests, was trampled under foot by fair means or foul. the boyards, too, were tainted by the example of the chiefs. the vast extent of the country, the sparsity of the population, the difficulties in the way of communication, and above all the general ignorance, prevented the appearance of a patriot who might have raised a truly national banner, and shaken off the yoke of the servile lackeys of the tartars. [illustration: moscow] (p.  ) ix--lithuania and moscow. (p.  ) we have seen that the tartar invasion stopped short of novgorod, and turned southeast, thus leaving northwest russia free. what are now known as the baltic provinces, was at that time covered with dense forests, inhabited by the finns or suomi, the tchouds, jmouds, and lithuanians, all of the same race and speaking the same language, but constantly at war with one another. in the th century a chief named mindvog, after killing his brothers and sons, united the tribes, and made himself master of lithuania. he then invaded russia whose dukes, suffering under the tartar yoke, were unable to withstand him. he captured grodno and novogredek, when he was confronted by alexander nevsky and daniel of volhynia in front, and by the knights of livonia in his rear. in this extremity mindvog sent to the pope promising that he would be converted in return for his good services. pope innocent iv replied by sending a papal legate to grodno, where mindvog and his wife were baptized, and he was made king of lithuania ( ). soon after he had a dispute with the livonian knights to whom he was forced to cede the country of the jmouds. he again became a pagan and, marching against the knights, defeated them. upon his return from this (p.  ) expedition, he was murdered by a chief named dovmont whom he had injured. lithuania again fell into anarchy until another enterprising chief named gedimin restored order in . gedimin invaded russia, defeated a russo-tartar army in , and took tchernigof and vladimir. he then went south, where the russian cities readily opened their gates to him, hoping for relief from the mongol yoke. he took the old capital kief, and there had his sons baptized in the greek church and tried to marry them into the families of russian dukes. he established his capital at wilna where he attracted many german artists and mechanics by granting them special privileges. he died a pagan, in , dividing his country among his sons and his brother. one of his sons, olgerd, succeeded in getting possession of the whole, and then started upon a career of conquest. he first attacked novgorod, where one of his brothers had taken refuge, and made conquests east and south, until he reached the black sea. although he was a pagan, simeon the proud, grand duke of moscow, gave him his daughter; but this did not prevent olgerd from waging war with simeon's successors. in , he defeated the tartars of the lower dnieper, and destroyed cherson in the crimea. when he died he followed gedimin's example by dividing his territories among his sons, but one of them, jagellon, became sole ruler by putting his brothers to flight and his uncle to death. at this time the russian language was adopted and with it the greek church, although jagellon was still a pagan. when he married hedwiga, the (p.  ) heiress to the kingdom of poland, he embraced the roman catholic church; in , he went to cracow, where he was crowned king of poland, and soon after gave orders that his people must join the same church, converting them as vladimir had introduced christianity among the people of kief. jagellon made cracow his capital. some time afterwards one of his cousins, vitovt, raised a revolt against him in lithuania, and jagellon was compelled to cede that territory to him. thus vitovt became grand duke of lithuania. vitovt married the sister of vassili, grand duke of moscow, and extended his domain toward the east. he invaded smolensk, whose grand duke sviatoslaf, when fighting in russia, had taken a delight in impaling and burning alive russian women and children. that savage had been killed in , in a battle with the lithuanians, and his son had succeeded him. vitovt, before smolensk, invited this prince and his brothers to visit him in his tent. they accepted and were warmly received, but when they were ready to depart, they were told that they were prisoners of war. smolensk was taken by surprise, and pillaged. vitovt contemplated the conquest of russia. his territory bordered in the east on souzdal and riazan. he had defeated an army of tartars in the south, and was making preparations for a bold stroke. collecting an army of lithuanians, poles, russians, and five hundred knights of the teutonic order, he set out from kief and came upon the tartar army near pultowa where, in , he suffered a serious defeat. he recovered from this blow, and after some time began a war with the teutonic order which he defeated in , at the battle of the (p.  ) tannenberg. he thereupon re-annexed the jmoud country. vitovt had given up his designs upon russia; he planned to raise lithuania into a kingdom, and to have a metropolitan of its own, instead of being dependent upon the head of the greek church at moscow. he succeeded in the last-named object, but met with a check in the former, and, as he was eighty years old, the disappointment caused an illness from which he died, in . after his death, lithuania had no more influence upon russia. sometimes it had a grand duke of its own, at other times it was united with poland. in , it became the property of the king of poland, who added to his title that of grand duke of lithuania. its nobles spoke the polish language. it was necessary to sketch in a few words the history of lithuania, not only because it is part of russia to-day, but because it has always been claimed by russia. the history of that country, however, from the beginning of the th century, is centered about muscovia, the territory of the grand duke of moscow. at the time of the lithuanian conquest, muscovia was bounded on the north by tver, on the east by souzdal, on the south by riazan, and on the west by lithuania. it belonged to alexander nevski, who at his death left it to his son daniel. its area was increased by him by the towns of peréiaslaf, zabiesski and kolomna. daniel died in , and was buried in the church of st. michael the archangel, which remained the burial place of the muscovite princes until the time of peter the great. the next grand duke was daniel's son george, whose first act was (p.  ) to capture the duke of smolensk from whom he took the town of mojaïsk. in the grand duke of souzdal died. michael of tver claimed the succession as the eldest of the family, but george of moscow contested it. michael was supported by the boyards of vladimir and the people of novgorod; the khan at saraï also declared in his favor, and michael was installed. george, however, was not satisfied and began a war; he was defeated in battle, and twice besieged in moscow. suddenly he heard that the khan was dead; he hastened to saraï, and there made friends with the new khan uzbeck, who gave him his sister kontchaka in marriage, and ordered that george should have possession of souzdal. he returned to moscow with a tartar army and michael, considering the odds, proposed to cede vladimir on condition that his own patrimony of tver should remain intact. george refused, and the war broke out anew. michael defeated him and captured kontchaka and the tartar general, but he released his prisoners, and the dispute was again brought before the khan. george took good care to be at saraï, and having ample means at his disposal from his poll-tax collecting, distributed bribes right and left. michael, confident in the justice of his cause, committed the mistake of sending his twelve-year-old son in charge of high boyards, to represent him; but when he was informed of george's methods, he, too, proceeded to saraï, after making his will. upon his arrival, he was accused of having drawn his sword upon the khan's envoy, and of having poisoned kontchaka. uzbeck would not even listen to such absurd complaints, but george invented other falsehoods, (p.  ) and at last michael was arrested. the khan went on a hunting trip in the caucasus, and the wretched duke of tver was dragged after him in chains. one day he was put in the pillory in the market of a populous town, where the people crowded around him to look at the man who, a short time before, was a powerful prince in his own country. michael's boyards urged him to escape, but he dreaded the khan's vengeance upon his family and people. george increased his bribes, and thus secured the order that michael should be put to death. one of michael's pages came to the tent occupied by him, and told him that george and a tartar general were approaching. "i know what their object is," said the unfortunate duke. he at once sent his young son to one of the khan's wives, who had promised to protect the child. the two men came to the tent and ordered the tver boyards to leave. hired assassins were called in, and a russian ruffian named romanetz stabbed the unfortunate duke. when george and the tartar entered, they saw the nude corpse; it had been despoiled. the tartar was shocked. "what!" he cried, "will you allow the body of your uncle to be outraged!" george only smiled; but one of his attendants threw a cloak over the murdered man. when michael's children grew up, one of his sons, dmitri of the terrible eyes, secured some friends at the khan's court. he obtained the title of grand duke, and a baskak received orders to install him. when george heard this, he hurried to saraï; there the two men met, and dmitri, drawing his sword, killed his father's murderer ( ). (p.  ) dmitri was arrested and put to death by order of the khan, but his brother alexander was permitted to succeed him at tver. this duke was in sympathy with the people. suffering under the oppression of the tartar tax collectors, the people revolted under the leadership of alexander. the palace of the baskak was attacked, and he and his attendants were killed. uzbeck, incited by ivan kalita, george's brother and successor at moscow, prepared to take revenge, when ivan volunteered to punish tver, as well as riazan and novgorod which had given evidence of sympathy. the offer was accepted, and ivan at the head of a muscovite army reënforced by , tartars marched upon the doomed city. alexander and his brothers fled. tver and two other cities were sacked, the duke of riazan was put to death, and novgorod had to pay a heavy fine. ivan thought that his services would procure him tver and riazan, but uzbeck did not intend to extend the power of the treacherous family, and constantine, another son of michael, was made duke of tver. he and ivan went to saraï, where the latter was ordered to bring alexander before the khan. the prince had found an asylum in pskof, where ivan's messengers appeared to demand his surrender. the envoys urged him to give himself up under the plea "not to expose a christian people to the wrath of the infidels." the people of pskof thought otherwise. "do not go to the horde, my lord," said they; "whatever happens, we will die with you." alexander refused to obey the summons, and the people of pskof began to construct a new fort. ivan kalita, the grand duke of moscow, persuaded the (p.  ) metropolitan to place alexander and pskof under the ban of the church, which was done. we see here a christian prince persecuting a relative, and a christian priest excommunicating a christian people,--all to please an infidel conqueror! still the people of pskof refused to yield, but alexander left the city and took refuge in lithuania. then pskof informed ivan of his departure, saying, "alexander is gone; all pskof swears it, from the smallest to the greatest, popes,[ ] monks, nuns, orphans, women, and children." ( .) [footnote : priests.] some years afterwards an attempt was made by alexander to recover tver. he went to saraï with some of his boyards. there he made submission. "lord, all-powerful czar," he said, "if i have done anything against you, i have come hither to receive of you life or death. do as god inspires you; i am ready for either." uzbeck pardoned him and alexander returned to tver. this did not please ivan kalita, who knew that he was hated everywhere, and that his enemies only needed a leader. he went to saraï where he told uzbeck that alexander was a very dangerous enemy to the tartars. alexander was summoned to appear and when he complied, he was arrested, condemned to death, and beheaded. x--decline of the tartar power. (p.  ) dmitri donskoi. crafty and unscrupulous, the grand dukes of moscow were feared by their neighbors. ivan kalita, as farmer of the poll-tax, grew immensely wealthy. he collected a double tax from novgorod, which the republic, although allied with lithuania, dared not refuse. he bought several towns, besides land in the neighborhood of vladimir, rostof, and kostroma. his title was still grand duke of vladimir, but moscow was the real capital. ivan took very good care to stand well with the church. he built convents and churches, and never went out without an alms-bag or _kalita_ to give money to the poor; hence his surname. the seat of the metropolitan was still at vladimir, but he often came to moscow, and finally moved there; so that it became also the capital of the church. it is reported that the metropolitan said to ivan, "god will bless you and raise you above all other dukes, and this city above all other cities. your house will reign in this place during many centuries; their hands will conquer all their enemies; the saints will make their dwelling here, and here my bones shall rest." when ivan with the alms-bag died in , he left the bulk of his (p.  ) possessions to his eldest son simeon, and gave only small estates to his other children; he also forbade that moscow's territory should be divided. his body was scarcely in the grave before the dukes of tver and souzdal were on the way to saraï to claim the grand dukedom of vladimir; they were supported by other dukes who disliked and dreaded the muscovite family. simeon hurried after them, well provided with some of his father's treasure. he used it so well, that he received the iarlikh, and was installed at vladimir. servile toward the khan, he was overbearing toward the other russian dukes, which procured for him the surname of the proud. he was the first to assume the title of grand duke of all the russias; and, acting in that capacity, he graciously confirmed the charter of novgorod, for which he demanded and obtained payment. simeon died in of the "black death," a pestilence which was imported from asia. great changes were taking place at saraï, in the khan of the golden horde. its power was broken by internal discord, when mourout, the legal heir of bati, was attacked by a rival mamaï, who succeeded in establishing himself at saraï. simeon was succeeded by his brother, ivan ii, an easy-going, good-natured man whose reign of six years did not increase the influence of moscow. at his death, in , he left several minor children, the oldest of whom was dmitri, a boy of twelve. dmitri of souzdal went to saraï--and secured the iarlikh, which made him grand duke of vladimir, but alexis, the metropolitan, was loyal to ivan's children, and appealed to the khan in the name of his young ward. mourout, the heir of bati, declared in his favor, (p.  ) and young dmitri was taken to vladimir escorted by an army, and installed. ( .) [illustration: dmitri donskoï] the appointment was disputed by the dukes of tver, souzdal, and riazan. dmitri of souzdal held an iarlikh from mourout's opponent, and tried to enter in vladimir, but was expelled. the metropolitan excommunicated the opponents of ivan's son, who held the fort as grand duke. young dmitri made war upon the duke of tver, and after a seven years' struggle ( - ), compelled him to renounce his claims. dmitri was summoned before the khan, in . he went but what he saw at saraï convinced him that the tartars were no longer able to uphold their authority. he did not hesitate to engage in a struggle with riazan, although it was supported by a tartar army. thereafter, when orders arrived from the khan, dmitri ignored them. in , he sent a large army to kazan on the volga, and forced two mongol chiefs to pay tribute. two years later, in , a battle was fought between dmitri and one of mamaï's generals in riazan, when the tartars were defeated, which made the grand duke exclaim: "their time is come, and god is with us!" the khan sent an army to ravage riazan, and made preparations to reëstablish his authority at moscow. to make sure of success, mamaï took two years to collect an immense army and to mature his plans. this could not remain secret to the russians, who, aroused by dmitri, laid aside their private feuds to make common cause against the infidels. a large number of dukes assembled at moscow, and even the lithuanians promised to send (p.  ) troops to kostroma where the russian army was gathering. the metropolitan assured dmitri of the victory, and sent two monks to go with the troops. making the sign of the cross on their cowls, he said, "behold a weapon which faileth never!" russia was united against the mongol; all the dukes, with the exception of those of tver and riazan, lent their aid. these two dreaded moscow's power, and the duke of riazan tried to conclude an alliance with jagellon of lithuania and mamaï. dmitri, at the head of an army estimated at , men, marched through riazan to the don where the tartars were drawn up, awaiting the reinforcements of their ally jagellon, who was still fifteen leagues distant. dmitri resolved to fight the tartars before a junction could be effected. he crossed the don and met the enemy on the plain of koulikovo,--the field of the woodcocks,--where a furious battle was fought. it was decided by a sudden attack upon the tartars from an ambush, which threw them into a panic. the tartars were routed; mamaï's camp, his chariots and camels, were all captured. dmitri was found in a swoon from loss of blood. he was surnamed donskoï, in honor of this victory. ( .) it seemed as if the end of the mongol yoke had come, when another great leader appeared among them. tamerlane, after conquering bokhara, hindostan, iran, and asia minor, entered europe, and ordered mamaï to be put to death. he summoned dmitri donskoï to appear before him, and received a curt refusal. tamerlane sent one of his generals with an immense army to moscow, and dmitri, not finding the former (p.  ) support, went to kostroma to collect troops. the tartars appeared before moscow, which they tried to carry by assault but failed. they pretended to enter into negotiations, when they surprised the gates and moscow was delivered up to fire and sword. it is said that , inhabitants were slaughtered. vladimir and other towns suffered the same fate. it is told that dmitri wept when he saw the charred remains of his capital after the tartars had withdrawn. there was nothing for it but to make peace with the khan, and once more the tartar tax gatherers went their rounds. but dmitri's heart was sore against the dukes of tver and riazan who had abetted mamaï, and novgorod, which had used the opportunity of moscow's distress to plunder some of its towns. after the country had sufficiently recovered, he compelled the duke of riazan to conclude "a perpetual peace," and novgorod paid an indemnity besides agreeing to an annual tribute. when dmitri died in , he left moscow the most powerful of russian dukedoms. he was succeeded by his eldest son vassili, with the consent of his cousin vladimir, who was the eldest of the family. vassili mentioned novgorod as "his patrimony," and acted as if the republic was his private property. he visited saraï in , and while there bought an iarlikh, which placed him in possession of souzdal, nishni novgorod, and mourom. in , the people of novgorod revolted, but vassili's army convinced them that the republic was fast losing its former power. at this time tamerlane, dissatisfied with his generals, arrived in europe and after pillaging the golden horde, moved westward, (p.  ) spreading ruin and desolation. he drew near to moscow, where the famous eikon of the virgin was taken in solemn procession, when the tartar army stopped and turned to the south, where azof, astrakhan, and saraï, were plundered and destroyed. ( .) after tamerlane's withdrawal, vassili pretended not to know to whom to pay the tribute,--and so paid none at all. the tartars under ediger marched upon moscow to collect it, but the city was bravely defended and ediger, fearing an invasion from asia, agreed to accept a ransom of rubles, which was paid by the boyards. more dangerous were the attacks of vitovt of lithuania, vassili's father-in-law, who marched three times against moscow. both vitovt and vassili were indisposed to risk a decisive battle, fearing that, if defeated, their enemies would despoil them. in a treaty was signed whereby the ouger was made the frontier between them. this gave smolensk to lithuania, and kozelsk to moscow. vassili extended his territory, and with it his name; one of his daughters married the byzantine emperor, john palaeologus. at his death, in , he left his territory to his son vassili, the blind, whose title was contested by his uncle george, on the ground of being the eldest of the family. the dispute was submitted to the khan, in . both sides humbled themselves, but the argument of vassili's boyards prevailed. "my lord czar," they said to the khan, "let us speak,--us, the slaves of the grand duke. our master, the grand duke, prays for the throne of the grand dukedom, which is your property, (p.  ) having no other title but your protection, your investiture, and your iarlikh. you are master and can dispose of it according to your good pleasure. my lord, the duke george, his uncle, claims the grand dukedom by the act and will of his father, but not as a favor from the all-powerful." vassili the blind, was the first grand duke to be crowned at moscow instead of at vladimir. his reign was disturbed by constant wars with his uncle, and afterwards with his cousins. in he was taken prisoner by one of the latter, who ordered his eyes to be put out. in , peace was restored when the second son of george died of poison. notwithstanding the loss of his sight vassili displayed considerable energy in reëstablishing his authority. novgorod was forced to pay another indemnity, and to give a written promise that in future all deeds would be void unless stamped with the seal of the grand duke. the most remarkable incident of vassili's reign was the council at florence, italy, in , where delegates of the roman and greek churches tried to effect a union. there were seventeen metropolitans, among them isidore of moscow, who signed the act of union. when isodore returned and declared what he had done, a great opposition appeared. vassili himself insulted the metropolitan, who fled to rome. in , mahomet ii captured constantinople when a host of priests, monks, artists, and learned men fled from the extinct byzantine empire, to find an asylum in russia. while nothing resulted from the council of florence, owing to the opposition of members of the greek church, the fall of constantinople left a deep impression upon russia, which chose to consider itself (p.  ) as the heir to the byzantine empire. more than this, the influence of the men who found a refuge in russia, served to inoculate the country of their adoption with the semi-oriental civilization which had distinguished constantinople from western europe. the time, too, was propitious. russia was gradually recovering from the blow of tartar rule, which had marred its progress during two centuries. here was, therefore, to all intent and purposes, a virgin soil, which promised to yield a rich harvest to whatever principles were planted in it. it might even regenerate the decaying elements of the byzantine civilization. [illustration: ivan iii] (p.  ) xi--ivan iii, the great. (p.  ) vassili's eldest son ivan was born in . it is said that upon the occasion of his birth, an old monk at novgorod had a vision which he reported to the archbishop. "truly," he said, "it is to-day that the grand duke triumphs; god has given him an heir; i behold this child making himself illustrious by glorious deeds. he will subdue princes and nations. but woe to novgorod! novgorod will fall at his feet, and never rise again." vassili, wishing to avoid the disputes incident upon the succession, during his lifetime admitted ivan as co-regent. upon his father's death, in , ivan was twenty-two years old. he succeeded without the usual disturbances, and the first six years of his reign were uneventful. in , he gained forcible possession of his brother george's estate, and allowed him to die in prison. when he heard of his death,--he wept. another brother, andrew, was in his way, and was flung into prison, whereupon ivan called the metropolitan and bishops to his palace, wept some more, and confessed that he had been too severe;--but he forgot to restore andrew's property. when his third brother, boris, died, ivan seized the estate and kept it; but he wept some more. this soft-hearted but tenacious gentleman found fault with his (p.  ) neighbor, michael of tver, for entering into an alliance with lithuania. to settle the difficulty, he invaded the dukedom, and annexed it to moscow. then, having his hands free, he thought of novgorod. the germans of the hanseatic league had formed a colony in the old republic, which had grown very wealthy. ivan looked upon that wealth as his; if it was not, it ought to be. acting upon this satisfactory conclusion, he remembered that the people of novgorod had omitted to do him homage when he succeeded his father. they had even failed to appreciate the gentle letter of remonstrance in which he reminded them of their oversight. good-natured as he knew himself to be, he could not afford to encourage such a rebellious spirit; but, being a careful man, he concluded that it would be more humane as well as cheaper to try the gentle means of bribery. his gold, distributed where it would do most good, procured him a large party. the opposition was led by a woman named marfa, the wealthy widow of a possadnik. she urged that the republic should ask the help of casimir iv, king of poland, but ivan's friends in the vetché replied that, if poland should win, the roman catholic church would enter, whereas russia was at least loyal to the greek church. marfa's influence prevailed; the republic submitted to poland, on condition that its charter should be respected. gentle ivan despatched some envoys to warn the people of the error of their ways, and when that did no good, he hired tartar cavalry, overran the territory of the republic, and directed his troops to cut off the noses and lips of the prisoners. it is probable that he wept, although history (p.  ) omits mentioning the fact. novgorod was unprepared; a mob was collected and styled an army, and in the battle of the chelona, , trained troops put to flight , citizen soldiers. novgorod was lost. ivan kindly permitted the name "republic" to continue, but his authority was admitted. he also received a share of the wealth as an indemnity. ( .) two years later he married the niece and supposed heiress of the last byzantine emperor. her father, thomas palaeologus, had fled to rome where he died leaving one daughter sophia. pope paul ii wished to find her a husband, and cardinal bessarion of the greek church advised him to offer her hand to ivan. the offer was accepted; sophia received a dower from the pope who still hoped to unite the two churches, and the bride was received with great honor in ivan's territory. the grand duke probably had his eye on constantinople, but deferred his claim to some favorable opportunity. with sophia came many greek nobles, artists, and learned men. ivan, as may be judged from his gentle nature, was a patron of art, and had no prejudice against foreigners. several italians came to moscow where their services were appreciated. ivan left novgorod in peace during five years, when he thought it time to familiarize the citizens with the fact that their republic was a thing of the past. he needed a pretext; by a judicious use of money, his agents raised a mob against the boyards, who, being assaulted, invoked the strong arm of the law, in the person of ivan. the grand duke came to novgorod in , to hold court. he at once ordered (p.  ) the arrest of the possadnik, marfa's son, and a number of boyards who believed in a republic, had them put in chains and carried to moscow. this was in violation of the charter, but ivan had an elastic conscience. next he tempted a scribe to mention him as _sovereign_ instead of "lord," in an official document; and when, in a last effort to save the republic, marfa's partisans killed a number of ivan's friends, it was evidently his duty to restore order. upon his return to moscow, he announced that novgorod was the enemy of the greek church, and the ally of the pope and of lithuania. this so alarmed the metropolitan and the priests that they begged ivan to make war upon the wicked city. many dukes and boyards, moved by loyalty for the church, and perhaps scenting spoils, flocked to his camp. marfa's partisans in vain tried to arouse the citizens by the cry, "let us die for liberty and st. sophia!" it fell on deaf ears; every one for himself, was the general thought. novgorod surrendered. ivan guaranteed,--for just so long as it should suit him,--the people's lives and property, their ancient code of laws, and exemption from muscovite service; but the vetché and office of possadnik were abolished, and with them died the republic. ( .) having settled with novgorod to his satisfaction, ivan bethought himself of establishing peace in his own household. russian writers state that his wife, sophia, annoyed him by often repeating the interesting inquiry, "how long am i to be the slave of the tartars?" the khan of the golden horde had been dissolved since tamerlane's raid; several states had been formed from it, of which the principal (p.  ) were kazan, saraï or astrakhan, and the crimea. kazan was ruled by a czar; its people were the descendants of mongols and bulgars who had made great progress in commerce. the khan of saraï and his men clung to the life of nomads; but the subjects of the khan of the crimea, were mongols, armenians, greeks, jews, and italians; and all three had this in common that they were constantly indulging in quarrels and strife at home. ivan knew all this, because sometimes a chief would come to moscow for an asylum, and others took service in his army. he no longer sent tribute, although occasionally, when he was occupied elsewhere, he did send a small present. in khan akhmet sent ambassadors to moscow to remind him that the tribute was in arrears. ivan, who had apparently a wonderful command over his features, pretended to lose his temper, jumped on the picture of the khan, and ordered all the envoys except one to be put to death. the survivor was told to go home, and tell his master of his reception. ivan had reasonable cause for thinking that akhmet would be displeased, and collected an army of , men on the oka, where he took up a strong position. he had been right in his conjecture, for akhmet gathered an army and in due time arrived on the opposite bank of the river. ivan had time to reflect. he did not much fancy risking a decisive battle, and returned to moscow to consult his mother, the boyards, and the priests. all urged him to fight, and finally he came back to the camp, convinced that scheming and plotting were more in his line. all this time the two armies lay within earshot, exchanging complimentary remarks, with no casualties. the khan offered to (p.  ) pardon ivan on condition that he should come and hold his stirrup; or, if he were too tired, if he should send some high officer to do it in his name. ivan shook his head. meanwhile the priests at moscow were growing impatient, and the archbishop vassian sent him a warm letter. it happened that akhmet was quite as prudent as ivan; but when the winter came and the oka, instead of a barrier, became an easy crossing, ivan ordered the retreat. just then the two armies, led by such brave commanders, were seized with a panic, and away they fled in opposite directions. ( .) the honors were with ivan, because he did not have so far to run as akhmet, who did not stop until he reached saraï. it is not stated why ivan received no surname from this great battle. the following year, , ivan had sufficiently recovered to show the courage he possessed. there was a disturbance in novgorod, where the people did not appreciate the nobility of his character. he ordered some of the boyards to be tortured and put to death, and _eight thousand_ citizens were forcibly packed off to souzdal. in fear of his doughty enemy akhmet, ivan made friends with the khan of the crimea, calculating that if the former should attack him again, he would have to look out for his rear. akhmet, however, seemed to have had enough of it, and ivan, who was on bad terms with lithuania and poland, suggested to his friend that a raid into those territories might pay. the khan of the crimea took the hint; he penetrated as far as kief which he captured and pillaged. ( .) the famous monastery of the catacombs was almost destroyed; but ivan had the (p.  ) satisfaction of knowing that his two enemies had other things to think of, instead of annoying him. in war broke out with kazan. a russian army marched against it, but ivan did not take command. as a result, the city was taken and the khan, who had assumed the title of czar, was brought a prisoner to moscow. fearing that he would unite the other tartars against him if he annexed the territory at once, he appointed a nephew of his friend, the khan of the crimea, but placed russian soldiers in the fortress, while he added the title of prince of bulgaria to his own. other tartar princes sent envoys to protest against the arrest. ivan did not receive them in person, and refused to release the prisoner, but he ordered the envoys to be treated with great honor and gave them so many presents, that they returned in great good humor. in , the king of poland died, leaving that kingdom to his eldest son albert, and lithuania to his second son alexander. ivan was justly indignant that he had not been remembered in the will. he sent envoys to bajazet ii, sultan of turkey, to the kings of hungary and moldavia, and to his old friend the khan of the crimea, to secure their assistance or at least their kind neutrality. of the services of the khan of the crimea he felt assured. he began by discovering a polish plot against his life at moscow, and appealed to the religious prejudices of the lithuanian nobles belonging to the greek church, omitting to mention his little arrangement with the infidel sultan. when alexander sent envoys to negotiate terms of peace, ivan's deputies said to them: "lithuania (p.  ) has profited by the misfortunes of russia to take our territory, but to-day things are changed." they were right. when peace was concluded in , ivan's frontier in the west was extended. the marriage of alexander to ivan's daughter seemed to end the hostility between the two countries, but nothing was further from the schemes of the wily grand duke. he stipulated that she should have a greek chapel in the palace, and warned her never to appear in a catholic church, and always to wear the russian national dress. soon after the wedding ivan complained that his daughter was forced to wear polish costumes, and that the greek church was being persecuted. these were to him ample cause for war, the more so since he had good reason to count upon his friends, the priests and boyards of the greek church. when the war broke out, cities where the majority of the people belonged to that church, opened their gates to his army, and alexander was badly defeated in the battle of vedrocha. this war added another slice to ivan's territory. alexander in his distress made an alliance with the livonian order and with the great horde at saraï; but ivan's old friend, the khan of the crimea, made a raid in gallicia and volhynia, and the lithuanians were defeated at mstislaf; but they compelled the russians to raise the siege of smolensk. meanwhile ivan had serious trouble. in , he ordered the merchants of several hanseatic towns to be arrested at novgorod, and incidentally had goods to the value of $ , ,--an immense sum in those days,--carried to moscow. this caused the (p.  ) foreign merchants to leave for safer places; but the livonian order invaded his territory, and in the battle of siritza, they crushed a russian army of , men, but the following year, , they were defeated at pskof. toward the end of his life he was in doubt about his successor, because his eldest son was dead. at first he thought of making his grandson dmitri, his heir; but he changed his mind, sent his daughter-in-law and grandson to prison and proclaimed his second son vassili his heir. he died in , after a reign of forty-three years. it was under his direction that a new code of laws, the oulogenia, was prepared. xii--russia becomes an autocracy. (p.  ) vassili, ivan's son, showed a great resemblance to his father. he did not evince any greater love for his near relatives, as one of his first acts was to put his nephew dmitri in prison, where he died. one of his brothers who did not like his manners, tried to escape, but was brought back and severely punished. the republic of pskof, and the dukedoms of riazan and novgorod-seversky were still enjoying some degree of liberty, which vassili did not approve. at pskof, the grand duke was represented by _a namiestnik_, or ducal delegate; the people, citizens and peasants, nobles and lower classes, quarreled constantly among themselves, but united to quarrel with the delegate. vassili determined to put an end to this. he came to novgorod to hold court, and summoned the magistrates of pskof to appear before him, and when they arrived he ordered their arrest. a merchant of pskof heard of it and, hurrying home, told the people. immediately the bell was rung to convoke the vetché, and the masses called for war with moscow. more prudent counsels prevailed when messengers arrived from the prisoners, imploring their friends not to try a useless resistance and to avoid the shedding of blood. a leading citizen was sent to vassili to (p.  ) offer him submission; he was dismissed with the answer that one of the _diaks_ or secretaries would come to pskof to let the people know the terms. when that officer arrived, he was admitted in the vetché, where he informed his hearers that vassili imposed two conditions, namely, that pskof and the towns subject to it must receive his delegates, and that the vetché must be abolished and the great bell, used to convoke it, must be taken down. twenty-four hours were asked to deliberate. before the time expired, the vetché met for the last time, when the first magistrate addressed the delegate. "it is written in our chronicles," he said, "that our ancestors took oaths to the grand duke. the people of pskof swore never to rebel against our lord who is at moscow, nor to ally themselves with lithuania, with poland, nor with the germans, otherwise the wrath of god would be upon them, bringing with it famine, fires, floods, and the invasion of the infidels. if the grand duke, on his part, did not observe his vow, he dared the same consequences. now our town and our bell are in the power of god and the duke. as for us, we have kept our oath." the great bell was taken to novgorod, and vassili visited "his patrimony." three hundred wealthy families were transported to other cities and replaced by as many families from moscow. when he departed from pskof, he left a garrison of , guards and artillerymen. that was the end of the last republic in russia. ( .) in , it was the turn of riazan whose duke was accused of having entered into an alliance with the khan of the crimea. he was summoned to moscow, where he was arrested, but he managed to escape. his dukedom, however, was annexed to moscow. two years later, in , (p.  ) the duke of novgorod-severski was put in prison for underhand dealing with poland, and that dukedom was added to vassili's territories. this rounded up vassili's possessions in central russia. the grand duke continued his father's policy toward lithuania. when alexander died, he tried to become grand duke of wilna, but the king of poland was too quick for him. war broke out, but neither gained any important advantage, and in a _perpetual peace_ was concluded wherein vassili renounced all claims upon kief and smolensk. the "perpetual peace" lasted three years. vassili then went to the other extreme, by declaring that "as long as his horse was in marching condition and his sword cut sharp, there should be neither peace nor truce with lithuania." in , the russian army besieged and took smolensk, but in the same year they were badly defeated in the battle of orcha. the two grand dukes tried to involve as many allies as they could. the khan of the crimea, the useful friend of vassili's father, had become the son's enemy; vassili offset him by an alliance with the khan of astrakhan. when sigismund tried to secure the help of sweden, vassili sought that of denmark; and when his enemy set the dnieper cossacks at him, the grand duke induced the teutonic order to invade poland. after sigismund was defeated at smolensk, the emperor of germany and the pope offered to mediate; the latter advised vassili to let lithuania alone, and to turn his attention toward constantinople. negotiations commenced in , but it was six years later before a truce was (p.  ) concluded. on this occasion vassili made a speech in which he praised emperor charles v, and pope clement vii,--but lithuania lost smolensk. it was during this war that the partition of poland was first mentioned. vassili did not neglect the east, even while engaged in the west. kazan had expelled the nephew of the khan of the crimea whom ivan iii had appointed, and elected a khan hostile to russia. two expeditions were sent against the city but nothing was effected. when this khan died, vassili succeeded in installing a friendly prince, but he was overthrown and a relative of the khan of the crimea took his place. he prepared a great invasion of russia in , and did gain a decided victory on the oka, after which he ravaged the territory of the grand duke. vassili was compelled to humble himself before the khan, in order to save moscow; he made him presents and in the treaty signed by him, called himself the khan's tributary. when the khan withdrew, he was attacked in riazan and the treaty was taken away from him. the invasion was, however, a calamity for the grand dukedom, which was devastated by fire, and a host of women and children were carried off, to be sold as slaves at astrakhan and kaffa. the following year vassili collected a large army on the oka and challenged the khan of the crimea to come and give battle. the offer was declined with the remark that he knew the way into russia, and that he was not in the habit of consulting his enemies as to when and where he was to fight. hoping to profit by the quarrels among the tartars, vassili sent an expedition to kazan in , and again in , but both were (p.  ) unsuccessful. kazan owed its wealth to a fair, which attracted a host of merchants. vassili thought that he would destroy his enemy's prosperity by establishing a rival fair. accordingly one was opened at makarief, and this time the grand duke's expectations were realized. this was the origin of the world-famous fair at nishni novgorod, whither it was transferred afterwards. vassili made a long stride forward in the direction of autocracy. he consulted neither boyard nor priest. he deposed the metropolitan and banished him to a monastery. prince kholmski, who was married to one of vassili's sisters, was thrown into prison for failing to show abject respect. when one of the boyards complained that "the grand duke decided all the questions, shut up with two others in the bedchamber," the noble was promptly arrested, condemned to death, and executed. he interrupted the objection of a high noble with, "be silent, lout!" his court displayed great splendor, but it was semi-asiatic. the throne was guarded by young nobles called _ryndis_, dressed in long caftans of white satin, high caps of white fur, and carrying silver hatchets. like his father, he tried to attract artists and learned men, and exchanged embassies with most of the european courts. he extended the frontiers of his empire, but ruthlessly suppressed free thought. it has been claimed that the slav is fit only for an absolute government. the history of russia contradicts the statement. the idea of autocracy was asiatic and was imported with the tartar yoke. xiii--ivan iv, the terrible. (p.  ) when vassili died in , he left two infant sons, ivan and george, the elder three years old. his widow, helena glinski, assumed the regency. she was a woman remarkable for spirit and beauty, and showed her courage in ruthlessly suppressing every attempt of high nobles to contest her authority. she sent her husband's brother george to prison, and let him die there. one of her own uncles, who had been in her confidence, showed too much ambition and suffered the same fate. andrew, another brother of vassili, tried to make his escape; he was promptly brought back and placed in confinement. this caused an unimportant war with poland, ending in a truce in . the tartars of kazan and the crimea were frequently defeated. but helena was cordially hated by the great nobles at moscow; she was poisoned, and died in . ivan, the oldest son and heir, was then eight years old. it must be placed to the credit of his mother that he had learned to read, for the children were sadly neglected after her death, and it was the boy's principal solace and occupation. in later years ivan wrote of this time, "we and our brother iouri (george) were treated like strangers, like the children of beggars. we were ill-clothed, cold (p.  ) and hungry." what impressed the child especially, was that when foreign envoys arrived he was placed upon the throne and the same nobles who showed him such contemptuous indifference, were respectful and even servile on such occasions. he noticed, too, that when these proud nobles needed anything, it was necessary that the papers should be signed by him. all this set the child thinking, and being a manly, bright boy, he came to the conclusion that, after all, he was the real master. after many quarrels among themselves, andrew chouïski, the head of a noble family, had become all-powerful; all important offices were occupied by his favorites and friends. ivan noticed it all, but said nothing. he was thirteen years old when, after the christmas celebration of , he suddenly summoned the boyards before him, and in a threatening tone sternly accused them of their misdeeds. "there are among you many guilty ones," he said, "but this time i am satisfied with making one example." he ordered the guards to seize andrew chouïski, and had him then and there torn to pieces by dogs. after this terrible punishment, he ordered the arrest of the most disobedient nobles, who were transported to distant places. [illustration: ivan iv] the thirteen-year-old boy then assumed the government, relying chiefly upon his mother's relations, the glinskis. in , at the age of seventeen, he directed the metropolitan to crown him, not as grand duke but as czar. in a bible printed in the slavonic language, he had read of the _czar_ nebuchadnezzar, the _czar_ pharaoh, david, _czar_ of israel, etc. he knew, besides, that the former masters of the (p.  ) grand dukes, the khans, had been addressed by that title. perhaps it was because he wished it to be known that he considered himself the equal of any tartar ruler; perhaps because he desired to have a title superior to that of the nobles who descended from former grand dukes, and who inherited the rank without the power; at any rate ivan iv was crowned as the first czar. young as he was, and since his thirteenth year beyond control, ivan's life had been the reverse of good. but when, soon after the coronation, he married anastasia romanof, he made an earnest effort to reform. the relatives of his mother and of his wife, the glinskis and the romanofs, enjoyed his favor at this time. there was much suppressed dissatisfaction among the nobles, and many plots were hatched against him. in the year of his coronation, a fire swept wooden moscow, and about , people perished in the flames. ivan ordered an investigation, and withdrew to vorobief. crowds gathered in the thoroughfares, when mysterious persons appeared among them declaring that the glinskis had set the city on fire. soon after shouts were heard, "it is the princess anne glinski who, with her two sons, has bewitched the city; she has taken human hearts, plunged them in water, and with this water has sprinkled the houses. this is the cause of the destruction of moscow!" a mob collected and made for the palace of the glinskis and one of them, george, was stabbed. they went on to vorobief, where they demanded the life of ivan's uncle. the czar's own life was in danger and the mob had to be dispersed by force. ivan did not forget this, and terrible was his vengeance upon the (p.  ) boyards. at this time he gave his confidence to two men, one a priest named silvester, who had the reputation of being a very honest man; the other, a member of the smaller nobility, named adachef who, in , as minister of the interior, gave to russian cities the first municipal liberties. ivan showed an unusual interest in the people; it was under his orders that a new code of laws (soudebnik) was prepared, and many reforms were made in the church. this rather increased than diminished the hostility of the nobles. ivan's favorites, silvester and adachef had grown ambitious and the former especially was overbearing. he openly opposed the czar, and tried to sow discord between him and his wife. when ivan's favorite son died, silvester told him that it was a punishment from heaven for his disobedience. the two men tried to procure the dismissal of the glinskis and romanofs, and for that purpose made friends with the boyards whom ivan suspected. in , the czar fell dangerously ill; he called in the boyards and ordered them to swear loyalty to his infant son dmitri. they refused. he was informed that the nobles were conspiring with his cousin vladimir, whose mother was distributing money in the army. he was in terror for the lives of his wife and son. once he said to the boyards who had remained faithful, "do not, i pray you, forget that you have sworn an oath to my son and to me; do not let him fall into the hands of the boyards; fly with him to some foreign country, whithersoever god may guide you." ivan recovered but he never could forget the anguish of those days. ivan's character at this time was far from bad. he was only twenty (p.  ) years old, and on several occasions showed that he was compassionate instead of cruel. it was only natural that his nature should be perverted, surrounded as he was by men of whom he was suspicious. still, such a change could only be gradual. the immediate consequence of the conduct of his nobles, was that it drew him closer to the people. this was shown in , when he convoked the three orders, nobles, priests, and people, to discuss public affairs. his first act, after his recovery, was to banish his former favorites. silvester was ordered to the monastery of st. cyril, and adachef was sent to livonia. soon afterwards the czarina anastasia died; there was a strong suspicion that she had been poisoned. to add to his bitterness, prince andrew kourbski, a descendant of rurik and a great friend of silvester and adachef, permitted , russians to be defeated by the poles with whom ivan was at war. kourbski deserted to the king of poland. it appears that ivan at this time feared for his life, for he withdrew to a neighboring castle with his friends, servants, and treasures. from there he wrote his abdication in two letters, one addressed to the metropolitan, the other to the people of moscow. this action struck terror among the nobles and the people. the former dreaded that the people might rise and avenge the czar, and the people were afraid that the nobles would once again usurp the government. the nobles and priests consulted and decided to beg ivan's pardon and to submit to any punishment he might impose. ivan consented to return to moscow (p.  ) but on his own terms. this was accepted. after his arrival in the capital he established a special guard of one thousand men who had a dog's head and a broom hanging from their saddles, to show that they were ready to bite and ready to sweep the czar's enemies from off russian soil. it was then that ivan began to earn the surname of the terrible, which has clung to him ever afterwards. we have his own record in a letter to the monastery of st. cyril, in which he asks the prayers of the church for the victims of his vengeance. he appears to have kept a careful account, as we read, "kazarine doubrofsky and his two sons, with ten men who came to their assistance;" "twenty men of the village of kolmenskoe;" "eighty of matveiché." it amazes us to read, "remember, lord, the souls of thy servants, to the number of , persons, novgorodians." the boyards lived in a state of terror; few among them knew how long they would keep their heads on their shoulders. neither rank nor title was a safeguard. the archbishop of moscow was dismissed, and probably murdered. alexander, george's widow, and ivan's sister-in-law, went to the scaffold. prince vladimir and his mother, ivan's uncle and grand-aunt, were also executed. it was on this occasion that the "novgorodians, to the number of , persons" were put to death, because ivan suspected them of a plot to open the gates to the king of poland. in , there was another wholesale execution, in which several of ivan's latest favorites were victims. the burden of his wrath fell upon the boyards. it may have been for the purpose of humiliating them and the churchmen that he assembled (p.  ) delegates of those two classes to confer with representatives of the merchants of moscow and smolensk, about the war with poland. ivan addressed the assembly in person, and it was decided that the war should continue. it was under his reign that british traders accidentally discovered the white sea and the mouth of the dwina. they came overland to moscow where they were well received and secured several privileges. ivan was anxious to conclude an offensive-defensive alliance with elizabeth of england, and proposed an agreement to furnish each other with an asylum if either of them should be compelled to fly from the country through being defeated by an enemy or the rebellion of their subjects. elizabeth did not fancy such an alliance, and declined the offer of an asylum, "finding," as she declared, "by the grace of god no dangers of the sort in her dominions." ivan never ceased recurring to, and pleading for, such an agreement, thus showing his ever present suspicions. after commercial intercourse was established with england, and british traders settled in moscow, ivan continued to show them his favor. he was himself the greatest merchant of russia. the furs which he received from siberia were sold to the foreign merchants at the fairs. his agents went into the provinces where they compelled the people to sell him furs, wax, honey, etc., at such prices as he chose to pay, and the foreign merchants had to buy them from him at a high price. he also bought the imported goods and sold them to russian merchants. they were not permitted to buy from anybody else, until the goods (p.  ) of the czar were sold. at the beginning of his reign, in , ivan was preparing an expedition to kazan, and in june of the following year he descended the volga and laid siege to that city. it was captured after a brave defense, when a number of the people were massacred and the rest sold as slaves. this conquest was followed by that of astrakhan in ; the volga from its source to its mouth was thereafter a russian river. the cossacks of the don also submitted to him. the european countries bordering on russia dreaded that country's growing power. ivan, after his coronation, sent to western europe to engage a number of engineers and mechanics; these men were stopped on the road, and none of them ever reached moscow. sigismund of poland even threatened to kill the british merchants on the baltic, "because," he said, "if the muscovite, who is not only our present adversary, but the eternal enemy of all free countries, should provide himself with guns, bullets, and munitions; and, above all, with mechanics who continue to make arms, hitherto unknown in this barbaric country, he would be a menace to europe." ivan, on the other hand, was equally anxious that the russians should possess all the advantages of europe's superior civilization. this, added to the inherited hostility between the two countries, caused many wars. while ivan was pursuing his conquests in the south, he was attacked by gustavus wasa, sweden's famous king, who entertained the same fears as the king of poland. the war ended by a commercial treaty whereby (p.  ) swedish merchants might trade with india and china by way of russia, and those of russia with holland, england, and france by way of sweden. this war had scarcely ceased before envoys of the livonian order arrived to request a renewal of the truce. ivan demanded tribute for iourief which he claimed as his "patrimony." this was refused, and war was declared. it was owing to ivan that this brotherhood was dissolved and its territory divided. in , a truce was proposed by poland. it was on this occasion that he called the assembly referred to on page . the war continued. ivan was attacked also by sultan selim ii of turkey, in , and the khan of the crimea marched straight upon moscow, set fire to the suburbs, and destroyed the capital except the kremlin. he carried off a hundred thousand prisoners. ( .) as he withdrew, he wrote to ivan: "i burn, i ravage everything on account of kazan and astrakhan. i came to you and burned moscow. i wished to have your crown and your head, but you did not show yourself; you declined a battle and you dare call yourself a czar of moscow! will you live at peace with me? yield me up kazan and astrakhan. if you have only money to offer me, it will be useless were it the riches of the world. what i want is kazan and astrakhan! as to the roads to your empire, i have seen them--i know them." the khan made another invasion the next year, , but was defeated. in the same year sigismund augustus ii of poland died. there was a party at warsaw that proposed to elect ivan's son, but the czar (p.  ) wanted poland for himself. he failed in the attempt, and the duke of anjou, brother of the king of france, was chosen. he did not like the people and fled; his place was filled by stephen batory, governor of transsylvania, a young, capable, and energetic noble. batory took in his service a number of trained german and hungarian soldiers, and took polotsk after a brave defense. he also captured several other towns, but was repulsed at pskof. ivan sought the mediation of pope gregory xiii, and a truce was concluded in ; ivan ceded polotsk and all livonia. ivan, in his manhood, was a man of violent temper. he was never seen without an iron-tipped staff, which he used freely and recklessly upon the people around him. nobody, whatever his rank, was safe from corporal punishment. he killed his eldest son ivan with a blow, and suffered from remorse ever afterward. he left a lasting impression upon russia by his reforms. he made a law whereby neither church nor convents could acquire new lands. he was wonderfully well educated, considering the neglect of his early youth, and tolerant of religious opinions. a presbyterian and a lutheran church were built at moscow with his consent, but in deference to the opposition of the people, they were removed to the suburbs. he was also the founder of the _streltsi_ or national guard. ivan died in , after a reign of forty-one years. xiv--russia under ivan the terrible. (p.  ) the reign of ivan the terrible is remarkable, first, because it is the beginning of russia as we know it in our time; and also because it occurred at a time when great britain was exploring the atlantic, and preparing the way for the wonderful expansion of the english-speaking race, which culminated in the great north american republic. it was under this reign, in , that russia's invasion of asia began, and with it a movement eastward, which has not yet ceased. it is interesting, therefore, to study the condition of the russian people at this important period. although, as we have seen, the tartar yoke did not influence the people directly, because there was no intercourse between victor and vanquished, the indirect influence was great, owing to the adoption of tartar habits or customs by the dukes and nobles, during their visits to the khan. during this time intercourse with europe ceased; hence, in the th and th centuries, russia was more asiatic than european, although the russians hated the victors. who can say how much influence this has exerted upon russia's conquests in asia? among the old slavs, the family was the unit from which the state was built up, and this was confirmed under the tartar yoke. there is (p.  ) some similarity between the empire of russia and that of china, for there, too, the family is the unit. in both countries the emperor is not only the master, he is also considered as the father and high priest of his people. their persons and property are the emperor's, to do with as he pleases. but in russia there was a nobility descended from the former dukes; in china there was none, except the descendant of confucius. yet in russia these lords, many of whom traced their descent to rurik, became in time the slaves of the czar. they prostrated themselves before him, as they had seen the courtiers of the khan do. when they presented a petition, they expressed it by the word _tchélobitié_, which means "beating of the forehead," showing that they performed what is known in china as the _kowtow_. in addressing the czar, they said, "order me not to be chastised; order me to speak a word!" the grand dukes of moscow considered their territory and the people on it, as their own private property. they had learned this from the khans. the palace, a mixture of oriental splendor and barbarism, showed the influence of the tartars. the people of russia were divided into classes, the lowest of which were the slaves or _kholop_, prisoners of war, men who had sold themselves, or who were born in slavery. above them were the peasants, born on the estate of a noble, but still known as free men. then came the peasants who farmed the land of an owner, but these were few. much of the land was owned by the several mirs or villages, but in the course of time they were assigned to gentlemen, who were able to serve in the army without pay, being supported by the revenues derived (p.  ) from these villages. gradually these gentlemen looked upon the land of the mir as their own property, but the peasants never did lose the conviction that the mir was the real proprietor. in ivan's time and later, the mir and not the individual, was held responsible for the tax to the czar, for the free labor furnished to the lord, and for his dues. the mir, therefore, was absolute master over every inhabitant of the village, and this power was vested in the _starost_. the peasant gradually descended into a beast of burden, who was not even a human being, but merely a productive force for the benefit of the state and of the lord. a russian town consisted, first of the _kremlin_, a fortress of wood which, when required, was defended by "men of the service"; then came the suburbs, built around the kremlin, and inhabited by the people. they were governed by a _voïevod_ or governor, appointed by the czar, or by a starost or mayor, elected by the nobles, priests, and privileged citizens. the principal duty of the citizens was to pay the taxes, and therefore they were forbidden to leave the city. under the czar alexis, the penalty for such offense was death. the merchants did not form a separate class. they are known in russian as _gosti_ or guests, thus showing that, notwithstanding the old and honorable record of novgorod and kief, the tartar yoke and subsequent arbitrary rule of the grand dukes had ruined trade or left it in the hands of aliens. ivan the terrible called them the moujiks of commerce. fletcher, an englishman who spent many years in moscow under ivan iv, gives the following curious pen picture: "often you will see them (p.  ) trembling with fear, lest a boyard should know what they have to sell. i have seen them at times, when they had spread out their wares so that you might make a better choice, look all around them,--as if they feared an enemy would surprise them and lay hands on them. if i asked them the cause, they would say to me, 'i was afraid that there might be a noble or one of the sons of boyards here: they would take away my merchandise by force.'" the russian women were kept secluded in women's quarters as they are in china, but they remained a member of their own family. a wife's duty was "to obey her husband as the slave obeys his master," and she was taught to think of herself as her master's property. he had the right to punish her as he did his children or his slaves. the priest silvester advises the husband not to use sticks that are too thick or tipped with iron, nor to whip her before his men, but to correct her moderately and in private. no russian woman dared object to being beaten. a russian proverb says: "i love you like my soul, and i dust you like my jacket." the men wore oriental tunics or robes, and a long beard; the women painted their faces. ivan the terrible said that to shave the beard was "a sin that the blood of all the martyrs could not cleanse. was it not to defile the image of man created by god?" there was a general belief in magic and witchcraft; sorcerers were burned alive in a cage. ivan, although in advance of his age, was not free from superstition. the art of medicine was, of course, still in its infancy, and those who practiced it were in constant danger (p.  ) of their lives, because if they did not cure a patient, they might suffer for it. both the nobles and the people were addicted to the vice of drunkenness. no one paid any attention when a person, rich or poor, young or old, fell down in the street from the effects of drink. this is what the priests said of this vice: "my brethren, what is worse than drunkenness? you lose memory and reason like a madman who does not know what he is doing. the drunkard is senseless; he lies like a corpse. if you speak to him he does not answer. think of his poor soul which grows foul in its vile body which is its prison.... to drink is lawful and is to the glory of god, who has given us wine to make us rejoice." the metropolitan of moscow, until a patriarch was appointed, was supposed to be the head of the church, but the czar held the real power. there were two classes of priests: the black clergy lived as monks in monasteries, some of which were exceedingly wealthy; they were forbidden to marry, and the bishops were appointed from among them. the white clergy lived among the people and were compelled to marry. most of them were grossly ignorant. the same englishman quoted before, mr. fletcher, says of these priests: "as for exhorting or instructing their flock, they have neither the habit of it nor the talent for it, for all the clergy are as profoundly ignorant of the word of god as of all other learning." the revenues of the empire consisted of a tax on every sixty measures of corn; of a house-tax, or tax on every fire; the customhouse (p.  ) dues, and what remained of the municipal taxes after paying expenses; of a tax on public baths; the farming out of lands belonging to the crown; the fines and confiscations in the "court of the brigands;" and finally of the tribute paid by thirty-six towns and their landed possessions "belonging to the crown." the courts of justice belonged to the middle ages; tortures were applied similar to those employed by the spanish inquisition. a wife who murdered her husband "was buried alive up to her neck." heretics were burned at the stake; sorcerers were burned in an iron cage, and coiners had liquid metal poured down their throats. a noble who killed a moujik was fined or sometimes whipped; but he might kill as many slaves as he pleased, because they were his property. the russian infantry, so famous under the early norsemen, had given way to cavalry, in imitation of the tartars. the imperial guard was composed of , young nobles. the "men-at-arms" were mounted, but received no pay beyond the revenue of their lands, which they held in return for their military service. the army numbered about , , and, with a levy among the peasants, could be brought up to , . there was, besides, the irregular cavalry of the don cossacks, and of the tartars. such infantry as there was, consisted of peasants from the crown lands, churches, and convents; the national guard, and foreign soldiers or officers. [illustration: feodor] (p.  ) xv--feodor, the last of rurik's descendants. (p.  ) ivan the terrible left two sons, feodor, the son of anastasia romanof, and dmitri, a child, the son of his seventh wife. feodor was neither a strong-minded nor a very able man. he was married to irene godounof, and, following the usual custom, his wife's relations held the principal offices of the government. gradually the czar's authority passed into the hands of prince boris godounof, irene's brother, a very ambitious and unscrupulous man. wizards had foretold that boris would be czar, but that his reign would last only seven years, and he did all he could to aid his destiny. he first caused feodor's half-brother, dmitri, to be sent with his mother and her relations to ouglitch, where they would be out of the way. he also caused the metropolitan to be dismissed, and had a friend appointed in his place. he aroused the higher nobles against him, and then made an effort to make friends with the smaller nobility,--at the expense of the poor peasants. according to law, these people were free; that is, when the contract with a landowner expired, they could move where they pleased, and the large owners could offer better terms than those who held small estates. but without labor, the land was (p.  ) worthless and russia, at the time, was so sparsely populated, that every hand counted. the object of the government was not to open up new lands, so as to create prosperity, but to provide for its current wants by seeing that the taxes were paid, and that the army was kept up to its standard. how could the men-at-arms, that is the small nobility, defray their own expenses while serving, if their revenues failed from lack of labor? boris godounof, therefore, made a law forbidding peasants to go from one estate to another. they were tied to the ground, and this was the first step to make serfs of them. the peasants did object; they had been accustomed to change service on st. george's day, and that day remained for many years one of deep sorrow. there was no rebellion, but a great many fled, and joined the cossacks. after some years the law was changed so that peasants were permitted to change from one _small_ estate to another. another change under feodor's reign was the appointment of a patriarch as the head of the greek church under the czar. he was placed above the several metropolitans, and thus the church secured more unity. feodor had no heirs, and his health was bad. it was, therefore, to young dmitri at ouglitch that the great nobles looked for relief from godounof's tyranny. in , this man sent hired assassins to ouglitch and the youngest son of ivan was murdered. some of the hirelings were arrested by the people, and put to death. there was not even a doubt as to the facts. but godounof ordered an investigation by his own friends; they declared that the young heir had committed suicide in a fit of insanity, and that the people of ouglitch had put innocent (p.  ) men to death. the assassination of dmitri's relatives, and the depopulation of ouglitch made further inquiry impossible. stephen batory who had worsted ivan the terrible, died in , and the throne of poland was once again vacant. godounof tried hard to have feodor elected, but the poles feared that the czar might attach their kingdom to moscow like a sleeve to a coat. besides, the roman catholic electors did not like the thought of having a king belonging to the greek church; last of all, money counted in these elections, and godounof was a very saving man. the result was that the prince of sweden was elected, and that war with sweden broke out. the poles, fearing lest sweden should grow too powerful, held aloof; as a consequence, russia gained back the towns which had been lost under ivan the terrible. godounof made an effort to bring about a war between poland and sweden, but he only succeeded in arousing the suspicion and dislike of both countries. feodor died in ; with him the house of rurik, the old norse viking, ceased to exist. by trickery and knavery, boris godounof was elected czar by the _douma_ or council of nobles, a body presided over by his friend the patriarch, and containing many of his partisans. the great nobles, many of whom traced their descent to rurik, objected to a czar, whom they considered and called an upstart. but boris displayed cruelty as well as severity. feodor, the eldest of the noble family of the romanofs, was forced to become a monk and his wife a nun. he took (p.  ) the name of philarete, and she that of marfa. godounof did reign seven years, according to the wizard's prediction, but it was a stormy time for russia. a young adventurer named gregory otrépief, pretended that he was the murdered dmitri, and secured a large following. the troops sent against him "had no hands to fight but only feet to fly." at godounof's death, in , he confided his son and heir to a favorite named basmanof, who turned traitor, joined the false dmitri, and caused godounof's widow and son to be murdered. otrépief, who lacked neither courage nor ability, was made czar, but he reigned little over a month, when he, too, was murdered by a band of nobles under the leadership of chouïski. this man seized the throne in . the people in the country, owing to its vast extent and the poor roads, heard of otrépief's coronation, his death, and the succession of chouïski almost at the same time, and anarchy followed. at the same time russia was involved in a war with poland, at the time when a second false dmitri made his appearance. the cossacks and a host of polish adventurers joined him, and he laid siege to the immensely wealthy troïtsa monastery, where the monks defended themselves for sixteen months, and he was forced to withdraw. affairs came to such a pass that the people of moscow "humbly requested the czar to abdicate, because he was not successful, and also because he was to blame for the shedding of christian blood." chouïski was forced to yield, and soon after entered a monastery as a monk. two candidates appeared for the vacant throne; the second false (p.  ) dmitri and vladislas, the second son of sigismund, king of poland. the douma, not fancying the idea that an impostor should rule over them, invited the hetman of a polish army to moscow, to discuss the other candidate. this hetman promised in name of the prince to maintain the greek church and the privileges of the three orders, nobles, priests, and people, and that the law-making power should be shared by the czar and the douma; that no one should be executed without a trial, or deprived of his dignity without good reason; and finally, that russians might go abroad to be educated if they so desired. vladislas was then elected czar on condition that he should enter the greek church, and two envoys, one of them philarete romanof who had risen to the rank of metropolitan, left for the polish camp at smolensk to complete the necessary arrangements. the douma invited the hetman to occupy the kremlin with his shoulders. he did so, taking the late czar chouïski and his two brothers as hostages. at smolensk a difficulty occurred: the king of poland wanted the russian throne for himself. he also asked the envoys to cede smolensk to poland; they refused, and in turn asked that vladislas should leave at once for moscow. the king refused his consent, and began to use money. he found many russian traitors willing to accept it, but the envoys remained firm. soon after this, the second false dmitri died, and the people began to show an interest in the dispute with sigismund. leading men at moscow and smolensk wrote to the provinces, begging their friends not to recognize the king of poland as czar. men-at-arms gathered, and (p.  ) when an army of them drew near moscow, the poles fortified the kremlin. at this time a quarrel arose between the polish troops and the people, and some , persons were killed. the russians made a stand in the suburbs, when the poles set fire to the city, and the greater part of moscow was burned. sigismund ordered the arrest of the two envoys who were taken to marienburg in prussia under escort. smolensk fell soon after into his hands, and the king returned to warsaw which he entered in triumph with the last czar chouïski a prisoner in his train. by this time the russians were aroused; , men-at-arms gathered at moscow and besieged the poles in the kremlin. meanwhile sweden had declared war, giving as reason the election of vladislas, and had captured the ports on the baltic. the monks of troïtsa, whose heroic defense against the second false dmitri had made the convent famous, sent letters to all the russian cities bidding them fight for their country and religion. when this letter was read in public at nishni novgorod, a butcher, kouzma minine spoke up: "if we wish to save the muscovite empire," he said, "we must spare neither our lands nor our goods; let us sell our houses and put our wives and children out to service; let us seek a man who will fight for the national faith, and march under his banner." he set the example by giving one-third of all he possessed, and others followed. those who refused to contribute were compelled to do so. minine was elected treasurer; he accepted on condition that his orders should be obeyed without delay. believing that the leadership should be given to a noble, minine went to prince pojarski who (p.  ) lived in the neighborhood. pojarski accepted the command, and ordered three days of fasting and prayer. the streltsi were equipped as well as the men-at-arms; but the services of cossacks and foreign mercenaries were refused. an army was collected and marched toward moscow, with bishops and monks carrying holy eikons at the head; at iaroslaf they were reënforced by other troops. they laid siege to the kremlin; an attempt to relieve the fortress by the poles was defeated. at last the garrison was forced to surrender. among the russian prisoners who regained their liberty was a fifteen-year-old boy, michael romanof, the son of philarete and marfa. sigismund was on the way to reënforce the garrison, but hearing of its surrender, he fell back. an assembly was convoked to elect a czar. it was composed of delegates of the clergy, the nobles, the men-at-arms, the merchants, towns, and districts. there was much bickering, but all were agreed that no alien should be presented. when the name of michael romanof was called, it was received with enthusiasm, and he was declared elected. ( .) the delegates remembered the relation between his family and ivan the terrible, and the services rendered by his father, the metropolitan philarete. there is a story that the king of poland, when he heard of michael's election, tried to kidnap him at kostroma, and that a peasant guide led the party astray on a dark night. when the poles discovered it, he was struck dead. this is the subject of a famous opera "a life for the czar." russia's efforts to resume intercourse with europe, which during the tartar yoke had been suspended, were continued under godounof. he (p.  ) sent an ambassador to queen elizabeth with a letter, in which he says:--"i have learned that the queen had furnished help to the turks against the emperor of germany. we are astonished at it, as to act thus is not proper for christian sovereigns; and you, our well-beloved sister, you ought not in the future to enter into relationships of friendship with mussulman princes, nor to help them in any way, whether with men or money; but on the contrary should desire and insist that all the great christian potentates should have a good understanding, union, and strong friendship, and unite against the mussulmans, till the hand of the christian rise and that of the mussulman is abased." judging from elizabeth's character, it is likely that she shrugged her shoulders as she read this sermon. during the period of russia's internal troubles, and owing to the vacancy of the throne, the relations with europe were again suspended. xvi--michael feodorovitch or michael, the son of theodore, the first romanof. (p.  ) fifteen years of anarchy left russia in disorder. the boyards had done as they pleased since there was no one to control them. the peasants who asked for nothing but a simple existence, had seen their crops trampled under foot, and their homes laid in ruins. it needed a strong hand to restore order; more than could be expected from a fifteen-year-old boy, who had neither the iron will of ivan the terrible, nor the advantage of having grown up with the conviction that he was the master. besides, although his election had been regular, the don cossacks and others refused to recognize him as the czar. on the other hand, the patriots stood by him. but the conditions were such that a foreigner in moscow wrote at the time: "oh that god would open the eyes of the czar as he opened those of ivan, otherwise muscovy is lost!" there was no money in the treasury, and the men-at-arms demanded pay because they received no revenues from their ruined estates. the czar and the clergy wrote to the russian towns begging them for money and for troops to help the government, and a generous response was (p.  ) made. the people of the provinces, anxious to see law and order restored, rose in favor of the czar, and astrakhan sent a rebel chief to prison. he was shortly afterwards tried and executed. while the people were thus aiding the government, no time was lost in dealing with the foreign enemy. in , michael sent envoys to holland to request help in men and money. the dutch gave a small sum, regretting that they could do no more as they had just ended a war that had lasted forty-one years ( - ); they promised that they would persuade sweden to come to an understanding with russia. another embassy went to james i of england, who was told that the poles had murdered british merchants and plundered their warehouses. this was a falsehood, because the envoys knew that the outrage had been committed by cossacks and a russian mob, but they hoped that the king would not know it. james did not, and advanced , rubles. after this british merchants demanded concessions and privileges in russia, but as they asked too much, they received nothing. sweden, urged by england and holland, concluded with russia the peace of stolbovo in . sweden received an indemnity of , rubles, and surrendered novgorod and other towns. the war with poland was then continued more vigorously, and in a truce of fourteen years and six months was arranged. it was understood that this was temporary, because the king of poland still claimed the throne of russia, and refused to recognize michael. but the prisoners were released and philarete, the czar's father, returned to moscow, where his presence was soon felt by the nobles. the most independent (p.  ) were arrested and sent into exile. so long as philarete assisted his son, there was no disorder. [illustration: michael feodorovitch] in , the great struggle between protestant and roman catholic europe began and sweden, which was to take such a glorious part in it, sought russia's aid. gustavus wrote to michael telling him that if the catholic league should prevail, the greek church would be in danger. "when your neighbor's house is on fire," he wrote, "you must bring water and try to extinguish it, to guarantee your own safety. may your czarian majesty help your neighbors to protect yourself." sound as the advice was, russia had enough to do at home. sultan osman of turkey offered an alliance against poland, when michael convoked the estates. the deputies beat their foreheads, and implored the czar "to hold himself firm for the holy churches of god, for his czarian honor, and for their own country against the enemy. the men-at-arms were ready to fight, and the merchants to give money." the war was postponed when news arrived that the turks had been defeated. sigismund of poland died in , and his son vladislas was elected. the following year philarete died, and the nobles, released from his stern supervision, resumed their former behavior. the war between the two neighbors recommenced, but did not last long. when a new truce was concluded michael's title as czar was recognized by vladislas. it was entirely the fault of the polish nobles that poland lost lithuania or white russia. the only excuse that can be offered, is the spirit of religious persecution which was rampant all over europe (p.  ) in the seventeenth century. it was the ceaseless effort of the poles to force the lithuanians from the greek into the roman church that drove them into the arms of russia; but it was not until after the death of michael, in , that the consequences of this short-sighted policy were to show. michael was succeeded by his son, who ascended the throne as alexis michaelovitch. he was better educated than his father had been and resembled him in good nature. he had been taught by a tutor named morozof, who during thirty years exerted a great influence over his pupil. when alexis married into the miloslavski family, its members secured the most influential positions, according to well-established custom. morozof did not oppose them; instead he courted and married the czarina's sister, and thus became the czar's brother-in-law. the wars in which russia was engaged and the necessity of maintaining a large and well-equipped army, together with the increasing expenses of the court, and above all, the dishonest practices of the officials rendered the burden of taxation so unbearable, that several revolts broke out. in , the people of moscow rose and demanded the surrender of a judge and another officer, both of whom were notoriously corrupt; the two men were promptly murdered. then the popular fury turned upon morozof, who would have suffered the same fate, had not the czar helped him to escape. the government was helpless. in some places, such as pskof, novgorod, and elsewhere, the streltsi joined the people, and russia was for some time at the mercy of an enemy. it was fortunate for russia that just at that time, poland had (p.  ) serious trouble at home. a cossack, owner of a large estate, educated and brave, was ill-treated and imprisoned by a polish landowner; and his little son was publicly whipped. he went to warsaw and laid his complaint before the king. vladislas told him plainly that the nobles were beyond his control; then, pointing to his sword, he asked if the cossack could not help himself. the cossack took the hint, went home, and when the polish landowners tried to arrest him, he fled to the khan of the crimea, interested him in his cause and returned at the head of a mussulman army. lithuania rose in rebellion against poland; the governors and nobles, and especially the priests of the catholic church, were hunted down, and those of the greek church took revenge for recent injuries and insults. vladislas died, and the diet elected his brother john casimir. he tried to reduce the very serious rebellion by promises, but there was too deep a hatred between the two churches. meanwhile order had been restored in russia, when the people of lithuania wrote to the czar begging him to take them under his protection. alexis convoked the estates, told them that he had been insulted by poland, and that the poles were persecuting the members of the greek church. they declared in favor of war, and a boyard was sent to kief to receive the oath of allegiance. the people were willing provided their liberties would be respected. this the czar promised. he declared that the privileges of the assembly and of the towns would be maintained, that only natives would be employed in the administration and in taxation. poland was now sorely pressed. charles x of sweden invaded the (p.  ) kingdom and took two of its capitals. the cossack and lithuanians entered it from the south, and the czar alexis at the head of his own army attacked it on the east. he maintained strict discipline so that the polish governors said, "moscow makes war in quite a new way, and conquers the people by the clemency and good-nature of the czar." the towns of white russia opened their gates to his army, and smolensk surrendered after a five weeks' siege. the swedes captured warsaw, the last capital of the misruled kingdom. it was the jealousy of its enemies that saved poland this time. alexis entered into a truce and attacked sweden. this war was carried on from until , and ended by the peace of cardis whereby neither country gained any advantage. the poles, seeing the danger they had incurred, rallied, and once again war broke out with russia. it was carried on with various success until both countries were exhausted. in , a thirteen years' truce was concluded, whereby russia restored lithuania, but kept little russia on the left bank of the dnieper, together with kief and smolensk. in , a revolt was organized by the metropolitan of kief, who preferred the jurisdiction of the patriarch of constantinople to that of moscow. as a result, little russia was subject to all the horrors of war, but the russian power prevailed in the end. then the cossacks of the don broke out, and until the territory between that river and the volga suffered terribly. alexis' reign was remarkable for the introduction of so-called "reforms" in the church, which were confined wholly to ceremonies (p.  ) and externals. the czar supported the "reformer" nicon, and those who did not agree with him were called _religious madmen_ and suffered persecution. the monasteries near archangel rebelled and troops were sent against them; but it was eight months before the sturdy monks capitulated. alexis continued his father's efforts to reëstablish intercourse with western europe. but the west was only recovering from the terrible thirty years' war, so that little interest was shown. alexis had married twice. from the first marriage he had two sons feodor and ivan, and six daughters; by his second wife he had one son, peter, and two daughters. when he died, in , he was succeeded by his eldest son feodor. feodor alexievitch, the third czar of the romanof family, reigned only six years, from to . it was under his reign that a truce for twenty years with turkey, restored peace to white russia. hitherto russia had suffered from the rivalry resulting from disputes caused by precedence of birth; generals had lost battles, because they refused to serve under men whom they looked upon as inferiors. at an assembly of the higher clergy, it was resolved to burn the book of rank, and the czar made a law that any one disputing about his rank, should lose it as well as his property. to protect the greek church from dividing into sects, an academy was founded at moscow where the slav, latin, and greek languages were taught. xvii--early years of peter the great (peter alexievitch). (p.  ) feodor died childless, and should have been succeeded by his little brother ivan, but the child was of unsound mind. the other son of alexis, peter, was the child of his last wife, and nine years old at the time. the question about the succession was discussed in the council, and decided in peter's favor, and his mother natalia became regent. among peter's half sisters was one, sophia, twenty-five years old, who did not propose to submit to this decision. she took part in feodor's funeral, in defiance of the law which forbade women to appear in public, and after it schemed and plotted to form a party in her favor. a rumor was spread that the czarina's brother had seized the throne and that ivan had been murdered. the people of moscow rose, and the streltsi marched to the kremlin where the appearance of natalia with the two children made the mob hesitate. unfortunately prince dolgorouki addressed the men in violent language; they seized him on their pikes and killed him. they then stabbed the czarina's foster father, matvéef, in her presence, and sacked the palace, murdering many of its inmates. one of natalia's brothers was thrown out of a window and caught on the points of the lances of the streltsi who (p.  ) were waiting below. natalia's father and brother were taken from her; cyril, the father, was sent to a monastery and her brother ivan was tortured and cut to pieces, although the czarina went on her knees begging for his life. the streltsi acted under authority from sophia when they committed these outrages. after this rioting had continued seven days, the streltsi sent their commandant khovanski to the douma, to demand that there should be two czars, ivan, with peter as his assistant. the douma did not fancy the idea,--but there were the streltsi with their pikes, and they carried the day. from this time it was sophia who was the real czar. she reigned in name of the two half-brothers, and showed herself in public, insisting upon being present on every occasion. the russians as a rule are not fond of new fashions; they did not like this, and objected so strongly that sophia was forced to give way. thereafter the two young czars sat in public on the throne, but it was constructed in such a manner that sophia could hear and see without being visible. she shocked every russian by her manners until the streltsi began to speak of her as "the scandalous person." they hated her when she persecuted the _raskolnik_ or old believers, that is, the men who objected to the reforms of nicon. at last she thought that it was not safe for her to remain at moscow; she fled to the strong convent at troïtsa, taking with her the czarina and the two little tsars, and there summoned the men-at-arms whom she could trust. khovanski, the commandant of the streltsi, was summoned before her; he was arrested on the way, and put to death with his son. the streltsi were (p.  ) considering another revolt, when they were seized with a panic; instead of marching upon troïtsa, they went there to beg her pardon. sophia forgave them, but their leaders were executed. sophia trusted the government to two favorites, prince galitsyne who was at the head of foreign affairs, and chaklovity whom she made commandant of the streltsi. galitsyne tried hard to form an alliance among the christian powers against the turks and tartars. his scheme failed because louis xiv of france kept the whole of western europe in turmoil by his constant wars with the house of austria, and the christian princes had to look after their own interests. he was more fortunate in poland where john sobieski was king. a treaty of "perpetual" peace was concluded between russia and poland at androussovo, in , and an alliance was entered into against the turks. in , an army of , russians and , cossacks marched against the crimea. the tartars had burned the steppes, and the russians suffered such severe hardships that they were forced to retreat. the hetman of the cossacks was accused of treachery, and deported to siberia, when mazeppa, who had been his secretary, was appointed hetman. in the spring of , the russians under galitsyne and the cossacks under mazeppa started again for the crimea, but they had no better success than before. peter, who was born in , was then sixteen years old, but being tall and strongly built, he looked much older. he was bright and anxious to learn, and at an early age had shown that he possessed (p.  ) a will of his own. he had read much, but his tutor, a man named zorof, had allowed him to have his own way, and when the boy grew up to be a man, he made that tutor "the arch-priest of fools." when the boy was tired, zorof would allow him to put his work aside, and would read to him about the great deeds of his father alexis, and of those of ivan the terrible, their campaigns, battles, and sieges; how they endured privations better than the common soldiers, and how they added other territory to russia. he also learned latin, german, and dutch. he afterwards complained that his education was neglected, because he was allowed to do as he pleased. he chose his own companions, and as he did not like to be confined within the palace grounds, he roamed in the streets and often became acquainted with men whom he would not have met in the palace, russians, dutch, swiss, english, and germans. his usual attendants were boris galitsyne and other young nobles with whom he played at soldier. he pressed the palace servants into the ranks and had them drilled in european tactics. peter took lessons in geometry and fortification; he constructed small forts which were besieged and defended by the young players. sometimes the game became earnest; blows were given and received, when peter took his share without a murmur, even when he was wounded as sometimes happened. at first peter did not like the water; no russian does; but he mastered his dislike. once, when he saw a stranded english boat, he sent for a boatbuilder to make him a sailboat and to teach him how to manage it. he took a great fancy to sailing, and often took his (p.  ) boat on the yaousa, and afterwards on lake peréiaslaf, to the terror of his mother. thus peter grew up, healthy in body and strong of mind, until his ambitious half-sister sophia began to think what would become of her when the boy should be czar. she had styled herself autocrat of all the russias and did not like the idea of surrendering the title. for some time she was appeased when her courtiers told her that the boy cared for nothing except to amuse himself. when he was sixteen years old, peter asserted himself. sophia had ordered a triumphal entry for prince galitsyne and the army of the crimea, when peter forbade her to leave the palace. she paid no attention to his orders, but headed the procession of the returned army. peter saw that this meant war to the knife, and left for préobajenskoé. as soon as she heard of this, sophia determined to seize the throne. she intended to attack the palace, kill peter's friends and arrest his mother, and after that to deal with the young czar as circumstances demanded. she sent for the commandant of the streltsi who agreed to sound the men. he told them that sophia's life was in danger, and that she had fled to a convent. the latter part of the story was true, as she had in fact retreated to such a place, from which she sent letters to the streltsi to come to her rescue. the commandant failed to secure more than men; the other streltsi told him that there should be an investigation. two of the streltsi went to peter and reported to him what was going on, whereupon he moved to the famous troïtsa monastery. the (p.  ) patriarch, foreign officers serving in the army, his playmates, and even a regiment of streltsi came to him to offer their services. peter issued orders for the arrest of sophia's favorite, the commandant of the militia. she begged the patriarch to interfere but met with a refusal. the commandant under torture confessed the plot, and was beheaded. sophia's other friends were arrested; some were executed while others were sent to prison; she herself was confined in the convent where she had found a retreat. peter was now the czar, although he conducted the government in his own name and in that of his weak-minded brother ivan. if sophia had shocked the russians by leaving the seclusion of the women's apartments, peter's acts were likely to astonish them still more and to give offense. rowing in a boat, instead of sitting in it surrounded by his grandees; working like a carpenter, instead of merely giving his orders through a courtier, and fighting with foreigners and grooms, were acts so unlike to what a czar should do, that peter made a host of enemies. little did he care! no sooner was he free to do as he pleased, than he rushed off to archangel, the only port russia could call her own, and there he saw salt water for the first time. he mingled freely with captains of the foreign merchant vessels and went out in their boats. on one occasion, he was out in a storm and came near being drowned; but this did not prevent "skipper peter alexievitch," from putting out to sea again. once he piloted three dutch vessels. the young czar gave orders to construct a dockyard and to have boats built. peter longed for ports on an open sea, a sea that would not freeze (p.  ) in winter. there were three which russia might reasonably hope to own some day, the baltic, the black, and the caspian sea. the baltic belonged to sweden, and peter feared difficulties in that direction; but the black sea belonged to the turks, and peter quite understood that a war with the infidels would be popular in russia. he wished to visit western europe; to see for himself the wonders of which he had heard foreigners speak; but he made up his mind not to go until he could appear as a victorious general. thus peter made preparations for war with the khan of the crimea. he did not command his army; what he wanted, was to learn, and therefore he went as the gunner peter alexievitch. that did not prevent him from keeping a sharp eye on his generals. chief-engineer jansen received a sound whipping from him and deserted to the enemy. for this and other causes he was compelled to raise the siege of azof and to fall back to russia. his mother died in . he returned to russia in , and notwithstanding his defeat, he ordered a triumphal entry into moscow; but he felt very sore. the following year, , his half-brother ivan died, and peter was the sole autocrat of all the russias. [illustration: peter the great] (p.  ) xviii--peter the great and his reign. (p.  ) far from being discouraged by his defeat, peter was more than ever resolved to have a port on the black sea. he introduced reforms in the army, and while doing this, he ordered a fleet of boats to be built on the don, and set , men to work on them. he also sent to holland and other parts of europe for officers and gunners, and superintended everything. it was at this time that he wrote to moscow that, "following the command god gave adam, he was earning his bread by the sweat of his brow." when he was ready, the army and the boats went down the don; azof was blockaded by sea and by land, and forced to capitulate. when the news arrived at moscow, there was general rejoicing, and even at warsaw in poland the people cheered for the czar. the army returned to moscow under triumphal arches, the generals seated in magnificent sledges. a young officer, peter alexievitch, recently promoted to captain, was marching in the ranks. peter wished to make of azof a russian town in the shortest time possible. he secured from the douma an order by which three thousand families were moved to that port, and streltsi were dispatched to garrison it. the czar wanted a naval force, and moved by his energy, the patriarch, the prelates, and the monasteries offered to give (p.  ) one ship for every , serfs owned by them. this example was followed by nobles, officials, and merchants, and once more peter sent to the west for competent men to help build them. at the same time fifty young nobles were dispatched to venice to learn shipbuilding. when he was seventeen years old, peter had married eudoxia lapoukine, whose relatives abhorred all that was new; peter's wife shared their sentiments, so that his home life was far from happy. he had a son by her, named alexis; after the fall of azof, peter secured a divorce, an act unheard of in russia, where she remained czarina in the eyes of the people. busy as he was, peter left his son and heir in charge of his divorced wife, while he was making preparations for the long expected visit to the west of europe. he determined that an embassy should be sent, and that it should be worthy of russia. accordingly he appointed the swiss lafort and two russian generals "the great ambassadors of the czar." among their retinue composed of two hundred and seventy persons, was a young man peter mikhaïlof, better known as peter alexievitch. when the embassy came to riga, that young man was insulted by the governor. peter said nothing, but made a note of it for future use. at königsberg, "mr. peter mikhaïlof" was appointed master of artillery by the prussian colonel sternfeld. the progress of the embassy was too slow for peter who had an object in view. he went ahead to holland where he hired a room from a blacksmith at zaandam, bought a workman's suit, and (p.  ) went to work in a dockyard. he often visited amsterdam where his good nature and passion to learn gained him the good-will of the people. peter then crossed over to london where he spent three months. competent men of every profession and trade were engaged by him everywhere. returning to holland, his ship was caught in a violent gale, which frightened even the sailors. peter kept cool, and, smiling, asked them if they "had ever heard of a czar of russia who was drowned in the north sea?" peter did not forget russia's political interests. he talked with william of orange, the great opponent of louis xiv, and with other influential men, but he did not visit the court of france. after satisfying his curiosity, he went to vienna where he intended to study strategy; but his stay was cut short by bad news from home. peter had met with a sullen, obstinate opposition in russia. it was led by the priests who said, and perhaps believed, that peter was the anti-christ. it was a cause for complaint that peter often wore clothes of a german fashion; was the russian costume not good enough for him? again, why did he not devote his time to war, as the other czars had done? he had made a bargain with british merchants to import tobacco into russia; what did the russians want with this "sacrilegious smell?" but the climax was that a _czar of the russias_ should leave holy russia to go among heretics and heathens. geography was not studied in the czar's empire, and all nations on earth were thought to belong to either of the two classes. the trouble began among the streltsi who had been sent to azof. (p.  ) these citizen soldiers looked upon their destination at the other end of the empire as an exile,--which it may have been. two hundred deserted and made their way back to moscow and their families; they were promptly hunted down. when they returned to their regiments, they brought with them a secret proclamation from sophia. "you suffer," she declared, "but it will grow worse still. march on moscow! what are you waiting for? there is no news of the czar!" there was a rumor that peter was dead and that his son alexis had been murdered by the boyards. four regiments revolted and left the ranks. generals gordon and schein went after them with the regular troops, and after overtaking the mutineers, tried to bring them to reason. in reply they stated their grievances and persisted in their determination not to return to duty. the government troops then fired and scattered the streltsi. a number of them were arrested, tortured, and executed. at this time peter returned, furious at what had happened. he was determined to strike at the head of the opposition, the russians who openly denounced innovations. he ordered that the face must be shaved. this was hitting every adult russian in a tender spot, because the shaving of the face was considered in the light of a blasphemy. he began to enforce his orders at his court, sometimes acting as a barber himself, when he was none too gentle. a number of gibbets erected on the red square, reminded the bearded noble that the choice lay between losing the beard or the head. the patriarch appealed to peter, a (p.  ) holy eikon of the virgin in his hand. "why did you bring out the holy eikon?" asked the czar. "withdraw and restore it to its place. know that i venerate god and his mother as much as you do, but know also that it is my duty to protect the people and to punish the rebels." the gibbets did not stand as an idle threat. the austrian minister korb was a witness of the executions, which he describes thus: "five rebel heads had been sent into the dust by blows from an ax wielded by the noblest hand in russia." thus peter did not hesitate to be his own executioner. it was like him to do his own work, regardless of what the people might think. a thousand men were sent to a gory grave, by the highest officers of the court; the executions lasted a week. the funeral of the executed was forbidden. bodies were seen dangling from the walls of the kremlin for five months, and for the same length of time, the corpses of some of the streltsi hung from the bars of sophia's prison, clutching the secret proclamation. peter's divorced wife had joined sophia's party; the two ladies had their head shaved and were confined in convents. the streltsi were dissolved and replaced by regular troops. peter then turned upon the cossacks of the don, who had shown greater independence than pleased him. prince dolgorouki to whom the task was confided of bringing them to order, wrote to the czar after he had destroyed the cossack camp: "the chief rebels and traitors have been hung; of the others, one out of every ten; and all these dead malefactors have been laid on rafts, and turned into the river, to (p.  ) strike terror into the hearts of the don people and to cause them to repent." mazeppa, as we have seen, was at this time hetman of the cossacks of little russia. in his youth he had been a page of john casimir, king of poland; it was then that he had that terrible adventure which is connected indelibly with his name. after he was cut loose from the back of the unbroken horse that had carried him in the steppes, he entered among the cossacks, and rose from the ranks by betraying every chief who helped him. although it was sophia who made him hetman, he was among the first to declare for peter. his enemies, of whom he had many, accused him before the czar, but peter admired him, and delivered his accusers up to him; they did not live long after mazeppa had them in his power. it was mazeppa's scheme to establish an independent kingdom, he had the support of the cossacks who did not care to work but preferred to be supported by the people. the industrious classes longed to get rid of this burden, and looked toward the czar to set them free. the tribute which little russia paid to moscow was quite heavy, and when it was rumored that peter was going to war with sweden, mazeppa thought this was an opportunity to carry out his scheme. he entered into negotiations with stanislas lecszinski whom swedish influence had placed upon the throne of poland. peter was informed of this in detail, but he did not credit it, beheaded one of his informants, and the others, were tortured and sent to siberia. the war broke out, charles xii, the romantic king of sweden (p.  ) arrived in the neighborhood of little russia, and peter called on mazeppa to join the russian army with his cossacks. he pretended to be dying, but when the two hostile armies were drawing close, he crossed the desna with his most trusted cossacks to join the swedes. peter's eyes were opened; he gave orders to his general menzikoff to take and sack mazeppa's capital. this was done and mazeppa's friends, who had remained behind, were executed. mazeppa himself reached the swedish camp. he was compelled to seek safety in turkey, where he died miserably at bender. his territory was annexed to russia, the cossacks lost all their privileges, and , of them were set to work on the ladoga canal. it was in that peter, after concluding an alliance with poland, determined to declare war against sweden where young charles xii had recently succeeded to the throne. attacked at the same time by russia, poland, and denmark, this young hero invaded the last-named country and compelled its king to conclude peace. after relieving riga, charles marched into russia at the head of , men, and on the th of november defeated a russian army of , men. this victory proved a misfortune, because it inspired the king of sweden with contempt for russian soldiers and made him careless, whereas peter worked cheerfully and hard to profit from the lesson. while charles was absent in poland, his army was twice defeated. each of the two antagonists was worthy of the other's steel. both were brave, but charles was impetuous, whereas peter acted upon cool judgment. the war continued until when charles found himself (p.  ) in little russia, far away from supplies and reinforcements, in a russian winter which happened to be exceptionally severe. in the spring he laid siege to pultowa. the czar arrived on the th of june with , men; charles had , . on july , , the battle of pultowa was fought and charles was defeated; he narrowly escaped being captured. with mazeppa and the pole poniatowski, he made his way across the turkish frontier, and remained until , in the territory of the sultan, whom he finally induced to declare war against peter. this victory gave peter the longed-for port on the baltic, since sweden was no longer in a condition to stop him. what induced sultan ahmed iii to risk war with russia, was the hope of regaining azof. peter, on the other hand, hoped for an opportunity to capture constantinople, the czargrad of former times. he knew that he had the sympathy of the many christians of the greek church, who were suffering under the yoke of the turk. trusting upon their support, peter arrived on the bank of the pruth with , exhausted soldiers. there he found himself surrounded by , turks and tartars. peter gained a slight success, but not of sufficient importance to extricate or relieve him. fearing an overwhelming calamity, peter was prepared to make immense sacrifices in return for peace, and even to surrender azof and the territory taken from sweden, when his second wife catherine had a happy thought. she collected all the money and jewels in the russian camp, and sent them as a present to the grand vizier in command of the enemy, asking at the same time, what terms he would (p.  ) make. they were found unexpectedly reasonable: the surrender of azof, the razing of the russian forts erected on turkish territory, and that charles xii should be free to return to sweden. peter accepted eagerly, much as he regretted the loss of azof and the failure of his schemes. in , a russian fleet under admiral apraxine, with peter serving under him as vice-admiral, captured several cities on the baltic, and a russian force entered north germany. an alliance was formed against him and peter decided to make an attempt at an alliance with france. in , just as peace was being concluded with charles xii, the king of sweden, died and war broke out anew, lasting until , when, by the peace of nystad, sweden surrendered to russia livonia, esthonia, and part of finland. peter had his way: russia had open ports. peter was greatly pleased, and russia rejoiced with him. the senate and holy synod conferred upon him the titles of "the great, the father of his country, and emperor of all the russias." in , peter led an expedition to the caspian sea. he captured baku and five other important towns. he died three years later, in . xix--peter the great and his time. (p.  ) before judging peter the great, the time in which he lived, and the conditions which prevailed should receive careful consideration. throughout western europe, in france, germany, spain, and italy, in parliamentary england and republican holland, the people, that is the masses, toiled early and late for the privilege of paying the taxes; all immunities were reserved for the favored few composing the aristocracy. there was no education among the people, with the exception perhaps of holland, then still a power of the first rank. the principle was that the interests of the individual were unworthy of consideration by the side of those of the state. that was the case in france as well as in russia. peter inherited the idea of autocratic power, and his travels in europe conveyed to him nothing to upset or contradict that idea. he cannot, therefore, be considered in the light of a tyrant. he acted, so far as he could know, within his prerogative, and did his duty as he saw it. russia, with a thin and scattered population largely engaged in agriculture, felt no impulse toward progress. the moujik lived as his father had lived. he never came in contact with people of a superior civilization who, by introducing new wants, could make him (p.  ) discontented with his lot. knowing no desire but to satisfy his physical craving, he bore the extremes of heat and cold with equal fortitude; the soil and his labor provided for his subsistence. a life so sordid must either brutalize man or feed his imagination with the unknown and dreaded forces of nature; superstition, deep and strong, became part of the peasant's existence. it is generations before a traditional and deep-rooted belief can be eradicated. but peter the great gave as little thought to the moujik as did louis xiv to the peasants of france. his influence was exerted upon the boyards, and among them the opposition was the stronger as they had been imbued with asiatic ideas under the tartar yoke. here the great muscular strength of peter rendered him great service. he did not hesitate to use a stick upon the highest officials any more than ivan the terrible had used his iron-tipped staff. even menzikoff was chastized in this manner. frederick the great of prussia did the same afterwards. nor was this method of punishing without its use. one day when peter was looking over the accounts of one of his nobles, he proved to him that, whereas the boyard had been robbing the government, he in turn had been robbed by his steward. the czar took the noble by the collar and applied the stick with a muscular arm and great vigor. after he had punished him to his heart's content, he let him go, saying, "now you had better go find your steward and settle accounts with him." it was peter's purpose to make the russians again into europeans. (p.  ) he rightly deemed it best to begin with externals, because they are the object lessons of changes. the russian boyard was attached to the long caftan or tunic adopted from the tartars, but above all he was devoted to the hair on his face. the beard was doomed by the czar. he could not play barber to all his subjects, but he imposed a heavy tax upon unshaven faces. owners of beards paid from thirty to one hundred rubles, and moujiks had to pay two pence for theirs every time they entered a city or town. the reform which had the most lasting influence upon russia, was the abolition of the landed nobility as a separate class. they would be known as "_tchin_" or gentlemen, and any one who entered the service of the government, regardless of birth, was at once entitled to be classed among the _tchinovnik_. from that time the terms gentleman and officer, became synonymous. every service, civil, military, naval, or ecclesiastic, was divided into fourteen grades. the lowest grade in the civil service was held by the registrar of a college, the highest by the chancellor of the empire; the cornet was at the bottom, the field marshal at the top in the army; and the deacon in a church was fourteen degrees removed from the patriarch,--but all were _tchin_. when, in , the patriarch adrian died, the dignity was abolished by peter who did not relish the idea of a rival power in the state. instead he created the holy synod together with the office of superintendent of the patriarchal throne. he gives his reasons in the ukase wherein the change is announced. "the simple people," this document reads, "are not quick to seize the distinction between (p.  ) the spiritual and imperial power; struck with the virtue and the splendor of the supreme pastor of the church, they imagine that he is a second sovereign, equal and even superior in power to the autocrat." the holy synod consisted of bishops and a procurator-general who represented the czar and as such could veto any resolution. this official was often a general. every bishop had to keep a school in his palace, and the sons of priests who refused to attend were taken as soldiers. autocrat though he was, peter dared not confiscate the property of the monasteries, but he forbade any person to enter a convent before his thirtieth year. the monks were ordered to work at some trade, or to teach in the schools and colleges. at this time, the protestant and catholic churches of the west tried to make converts, and the _raskols_ were hostile to the national church. as a rule peter did not favor persecution; so long as the church did not interfere with his authority, there was nothing to fear from him; but upon the slightest suspicion his heavy hand was felt. thus, in , he suddenly ordered the expulsion of the jesuits. he used to say: "god has given the czar power over the nations, but christ alone has power over the conscience of man." this did not prevent him from exacting a double tax from the raskols in moscow, nor from punishing cruelly any russian converted to one of the western churches. the great mass of the people suffered severely by peter's reforms. the peasants as tenants of the large landowners had enjoyed some liberty and were legally free men; they were by him assigned to the soil, which they were not permitted to leave. thus they, too, passed into serfdom. if the proprietor sold the estate, the rural population (p.  ) went with it. the owners paid a poll-tax for their serfs. these unfortunates could also be sold without the land, but the czar made a law that "if the sale cannot be abolished completely, serfs must be sold by families without separating husbands from wives, parents from children, and no longer like cattle, a thing unheard of in the whole world." the citizens of towns were divided into three classes; to the first class belonged bankers, manufacturers, rich merchants, physicians, chemists, capitalists, jewelers, workers in metal, and artists; storekeepers and master mechanics were in the second; all other people belonged to the third. foreigners could engage in business, acquire real estate; but they could not depart from the country without paying to the government one tenth of all they possessed. cities and towns were administered by burgomasters elected by the citizens; this board selected its own president or mayor. if an important question arose, representatives of the first two classes were summoned for consultation. all the mayors of russia were subject to a magistrate selected from the council of st. petersburg, and appointed by the czar. this official watched over the interests of commerce and agriculture, settled disputes between citizens and burgomasters, confirmed local elections, authorized executions when a death sentence was pronounced by provincial authorities, and made reports to the tsar. the _voïevodes_ or governors of a province directed all the affairs of their jurisdiction and disbursed the revenues as they thought (p.  ) best. "help yourself first!" was the unwritten law, and it was universally obeyed. peter divided his empire into forty-three provinces, forming twelve governments each under a viceroy and deputy, who were assisted by a council elected by the nobles. the courts were crude and mediæval, but not more so than in the west of europe. justice, such as it was, was administered by the general police inspector, and in large cities there was a police officer for every ten houses. servants who failed to keep the house front clean were punished with the knout. peter created the bureau of information, a court of secret police, and thus inaugurated the terrible spy system which still disgraces russia. the douma was abolished, and in its stead peter created a "directory senate," which could meet only in presence of the czar. it was originally composed of nine members, but it was afterwards increased and at last embraced the duties of the grand council, the high finance committee, and the supreme court. a fair idea of the moral and mental condition of russia's high aristocracy, may be had from a rule made by peter, forbidding the senators under severe penalties, while in session "to cry out, to beat each other, or to call one another thieves." peter's visits to the west, taught him the value of factories. he gave every possible inducement to foreign capital and skill to come to russia, and patronized home industry wherever he could, as by purchasing the uniforms for army and navy from recently established mills. some of his methods appear strange, as, for instance, when he ordered every town in russia to send a stipulated number of shoemakers to moscow, to learn their trade. those who continued to work in (p.  ) the old fashion, were severely punished. the czar would have met with greater success, if he had not been hampered by the cupidity of the officials, who found means to secure the lion's share of the profits. peter discarded the old slavonic alphabet and introduced the one used at present. st. petersburg had four printing presses, moscow two, and there were also some at novgorod, tchernigof, and other large places. the first newspaper in russia, the _st. petersburg gazette_, was founded by him. he established, in , the academy of sciences, in imitation of the institution of that name of paris. st. petersburg was founded in . it was far from a promising site for a new capital, the dreary wastes, dark forests, and marshes where wild ducks and geese found a favorite feeding place. it was exposed to frequent floods, and piles were needed before a building could be erected. but when this autocrat had made up his mind, objections were brushed aside. peter collected , men, soldiers, cossacks, kalmucks, tartars and such natives as could be found, and put them to work. at first he provided neither tools nor shelter, and food was often scarce. thousands of workmen died;--what did he care? others were compelled to take their place. the fortress of st. peter and paul arose first; the czar himself was watching the progress from a little wooden house on the right bank of the neva. men of means were forced to build stone houses in the new capital. swedish prisoners and merchants from novgorod were invited to move to st. petersburg, and no excuse was admitted. goods could be brought only by boat, and no (p.  ) boat was allowed to land unless it carried a certain number of white stones to be used as building material. he erected churches, and ordered that he should be buried in the church of st. peter and paul. peter's domestic life, as we have seen, was not happy. after his divorce from his first wife, he married catherine who, in , had been made prisoner at marienburg. it is not known where she was born, but she was probably a native of livonia, and was a servant in the family of pastor glück and engaged to be married to a swedish dragoon. she became the property of menzikoff who gave her to the czar. there was a secret marriage which was confirmed by a public ceremony in , in reward for her services at pultowa. peter also instituted the order "for love and fidelity," in her honor. a german princess describes her thus:--"the czarina was small and clumsily made, very much tanned, and without grace or air of distinction. you had only to see her to know that she was lowborn. from her usual costume you would have taken her for a german comedian. her dress had been bought at a secondhand shop; it was very old-fashioned, and covered with silver and dirt. she had a dozen orders, and as many portraits of saints or relics, fastened all down her dress, in such a way that when she walked you would have thought by the jingling that a mule was passing." she could neither read nor write, but she was sharp, had natural wit, and obtained great influence over peter. they had two sons, peter and paul, who died in childhood, and two daughters, anne and elizabeth. the former married the duke of holstein. alexis, the son by his first wife, was peter's heir. he had grown (p.  ) to be a young man before peter realized that the result of all his efforts depended upon his successor, and the czar began to pay attention to his son's education when it was too late, when habits had been formed. the czarévitch had imbibed the prejudices of his mother; he was narrow-minded, lazy, weak, and obstinate, and associated with people to whom old russia was holy russia, who abhorred reforms of every kind. peter sent him to travel in germany, but the prince would learn nothing. his father warned him in very plain terms. "disquiet for the future," he wrote to alexis, "destroys the joy caused by my present successes. i see that you despise everything that can make you worthy to reign after me. what you call inability, i call rebellion, for you cannot excuse yourself on the ground of the weakness of your mind and the state of your health. we have struggled from obscurity through the toil of war, which has taught other nations to know and respect us, and yet you will not even hear of military exercises. if you do not alter your conduct, know that i shall deprive you of my succession. i have not spared, and i shall not spare, my own life for my country; do you think that i shall spare yours? i would rather have a stranger who is worthy for my heir, than a good-for-nothing member of my own family." alexis should have known that his father was in terrible earnest, yet he did not heed the warning. when peter was traveling in western europe, his son fled to vienna, where he thought that he should be safe. finding that this was not so, he went to the tyrol and afterwards to naples, but his father's agents traced him and one (p.  ) of them, tolstoï, secured an interview in which he assured the prince of his father's pardon, and finally persuaded him to return to moscow. as soon as he arrived there, he was arrested. the czar convoked the three estates before whom he accused the czarévitch. alexis was forced to sign his resignation of the crown. when he was being examined, probably under torture, a widespread conspiracy was revealed. peter learned also that his son had begged the emperor of austria for armed intervention, that he had negotiated with sweden and that he had encouraged a mutiny of the army in germany. it was shown that his divorced wife and several prelates were in the plot. peter crushed his enemies. most of the persons involved suffered a cruel death, and alexis himself, after being punished with the knout, was sentenced to die. two days later his death was announced. it appears that on that day, the heir to the throne was brought before a court composed of nine men of the highest rank in russia and that he was beaten with a knout to secure further confessions, and that he expired under the torture. those present were sworn to secrecy, and kept the oath. peter, therefore, had no male heir. alexis, however, had left a son peter by charlotte of brunswick whom he married against his will. in the czar ordered catherine to be crowned as empress. he had established the right to select his successor but failed to do so, owing to his sudden death. the following description of peter the great at the age of forty, is given by a frenchman; "he was a very tall man, well made though (p.  ) rather thin, his face somewhat round, with a broad forehead, beautiful eyebrows, a short nose, thick at the end; his lips were rather thick, his skin was brown and ruddy. he had splendid eyes, large, black, piercing, and well-opened; his expression was dignified and gracious when he liked, but often wild and stern, and his eyes, and indeed his whole face, were distorted by an occasional twitch that was very unpleasant. it lasted only a moment, and gave him a wandering and terrible look, when he was himself again. his air expressed intellect, thoughtfulness, and greatness, and had a certain grace about it. he wore a linen collar, a round wig, brown and unpowdered, which did not reach his shoulders; a brown, tight-fitting coat with gold buttons, a vest, trousers, and stockings, and neither gloves nor cuffs; the star of his order on his coat, and the ribbon underneath it; his coat was often unbuttoned, his hat lay on the table, and was never on his head, even out of doors. in this simplicity, however shabby might be his carriage or scanty his suit, his natural greatness could not be mistaken." xx--the successors of peter the great. (p.  ) peter's strong hand had stifled the opposition to his reforms, but with his death it reappeared. there were, therefore, two parties in russia: the men who had assisted the dead czar, menzikoff, apraxine, tolstoï, and others, such as the members of the secret court who had witnessed the violent death of peter's only son. they dreaded the succession of peter's grandson, the boy who, although only twelve years old, might order an investigation of his father's death. these men held the power and decided that, since catherine had been crowned as empress, it was she who should succeed. thus the former maid servant, not even a native russian, became empress of all the russias. there were some protests in favor of peter's grandson, but they were disregarded. menzikoff who was the cause of catherine's rise, fancied himself all-powerful, and there was jealousy among peter's associates. menzikoff sent one of them, tolstoï, to siberia, but catherine would not consent to the punishment of the other friends of the late czar. she was honest in carrying out peter's unfinished projects. he had planned the marriage of his daughter anne to the duke of holstein: the wedding took place; he intended to send an exploring expedition to kamtschatka; she engaged the services of a danish captain, bering, (p.  ) who discovered the sea and strait named after him. the academy of sciences was opened in . she, however, changed the senate into a secret high council, which met under the presidency of the empress. catherine died in , and on her deathbed appointed peter's grandson, then fourteen years old, as her successor. in case of his death, the throne would go to anne, and next to elizabeth. during his minority these two daughters assisted by the duke of holstein, menzikoff, and some other high officers, would constitute a board of regents. menzikoff had taken precautions. he had obtained her consent that the young heir, peter ii, should marry one of his daughters, a young lady two years older than the boy. he showed, in his letters to peter, that he looked upon him as his son. he also intended his own son to marry the boy's sister natalia. there was one member of peter the great's family who did not approve of menzikoff's schemes, elizabeth, the young czar's aunt, then seventeen years old. not long after catherine's death, menzikoff fell ill; he was compelled to keep to his rooms, and in that time elizabeth roused her nephew's suspicions. peter left menzikoff's palace and when catherine's favorite tried to resume his authority, he was arrested and exiled to his estates. soon after he was sent to siberia, where he died two years later, in . the dolgorouki family succeeded, but its head committed the same mistakes, besides showing a tendency to undo the work of peter the great. the young czar was growing weary of the dolgorouki when, in (p.  ) january , he caught cold and died after a brief illness. it was during his short reign that prussia, austria, and russia, first seriously discussed the partition of poland. a treaty was signed between prussia and russia whereby the two powers agreed to select and support a candidate for the throne of that kingdom which was to illustrate the truth that "a kingdom divided against itself cannot exist." peter's death left russia without a male heir. there were, as we have seen, two daughters from his marriage with catherine. anne, who had married the duke of holstein, had died in , leaving a son also named peter. elizabeth, the other daughter, was in st. petersburg, quietly engaged in establishing a party of her own. there were, besides, two other parties having claims upon the throne. ivan, the weak-minded half-brother of peter the great, had been married and had left two daughters, anne, duchess of courland, and catherine, duchess of mecklenburg. the decision rested with the secret high council. dolgorouki's claim, that peter ii had made a secret will leaving the throne to his bride, was laughed to scorn. the members of the high council saw an opportunity to secure most of the autocratic power for themselves, and resolved to offer the throne to anne of courland, provided that she subscribed to the following conditions: that the secret high council should always consist of eight members, all vacancies to be filled by themselves; that she could make neither war nor peace, nor appoint an officer above the rank of colonel, without the consent of the (p.  ) council; that she could not condemn a noble to death, nor confiscate his property, without a trial; and that she could neither appoint a successor, nor marry again without the approval of the council. she was also to sign an agreement whereby she would forfeit the crown "in case of my ceasing to observe these engagements." the council also decided upon moving the capital back to moscow. this might have been the beginning of a more liberal government for russia, since it diminished the power of the czar and the people would have benefited by the increased rights of the nobles, as was the case in england. it was the nobility who objected, from fear that the power might be absorbed in the families of the council members. anne of courland accepted the conditions and came to moscow. there she received letters from the enemies of the council imploring her to disregard her promises. on the th of february, , the council was in session when an officer appeared summoning them before the czarina. upon arrival in the apartment, they found about eight hundred persons presenting a petition that anne might restore autocracy. she read it and seemed astonished: "what!" she exclaimed, "the conditions sent to me at mittau were not the will of the people?" there was a shout of "no! no!" "then," she said, addressing the council, "you have deceived me!" anne was a true daughter of the czars. she began by exiling the principal members of the council to their estates; when she saw that there was no opposition, they were sent to siberia; and when no one remonstrated, other members were condemned to a cruel death. anne was thirty-five years old when she was crowned as czarina. (p.  ) she had been in germany so long that she preferred to surround herself with germans who did serve her well, but they naturally aroused the jealousy and hatred of the russian nobles. in , augustus ii, king of poland, died. russia, prussia, and france, each had a candidate. austria and russia favored augustus iii of saxony, and louis xv of france supported his father-in-law stanislas lecszinski. this candidate secretly proceeded to warsaw, where he was elected by a vote of , against , . a russian army crossed the frontier, whereupon stanislas withdrew to dantzig and the russians proclaimed augustus iii. the war spread and a russian army of , men advanced as far as heidelberg in baden. it ended in , by the peace of vienna, but russia became involved in a war with turkey, as an ally of austria. in , the russians took azof and ravaged the western crimea. in the following year they laid waste its eastern part, and in they gained a great victory at savoutchani. austria was not anxious to have russia as a close neighbor, and arranged the peace of belgrade. ( .) russia surrendered all the conquests, except a small tongue of land between the dnieper and the bug. sweden threatened war, but it was averted. the following year, , anne died, leaving the throne to her infant son, ivan of brunswick. anne ivanovna introduced western luxury into russia. prior to her arrival, fashions were unknown, and people used to wear their clothes until they were worn out. soon after restoring autocracy, she (p.  ) returned to st. petersburg where she endeavored to establish a court in imitation of that of france. she could compel her nobles to appear in the costume of the west, and, unless they were very wealthy, make them sacrifice estates and serfs to pay his increased expenses, but of the refinement which creates fashion, there was none. one of her guests, a procurator-general was so intoxicated at one of her receptions that he insulted one of anne's most trusted advisers; she was a witness, but only laughed heartily. the young nobles benefited by the german influence at court, since they received a better education. a law was made requiring them to study from their seventh to their twentieth year, and to serve the government from that age until they were forty-five. between the age of twelve and sixteen they were made to appear before an examining board, and any one failing to pass the second time in catechism, arithmetic, and geometry, was put into the navy. in the schools for young nobles,--the serfs received no instruction of any kind,--the course of studies was enlarged after the german system. anne's infant son, ivan, was three months old, when he succeeded to the throne as ivan vi. elizabeth, the daughter of peter the great and catherine, was twenty-eight years old; tall and masculine, bright and bold, daring on horseback as well as on the water, she had made a host of friends among the high officials and the guards. she found an able adviser in the french minister at st. petersburg who was anxious to destroy the influence of germany. the swedes went so far as to begin a war, proclaiming the desire to deliver "the glorious russian (p.  ) nation" from the german yoke. elizabeth decided that the time had come to act, when the regiments devoted to her were ordered to the frontier. in the night of october , , she went with three friends to the barracks. "boys," she said to the men, "you know whose daughter i am?" "matuska," (little mother), they replied, "we are ready; we will kill all of them." she said that she did not wish any blood to be shed, and added: "i swear to die for you; will _you_ swear to die for me?" they made the oath. when she returned to the palace, the regent, the infant czar, and the german members of the government were arrested. ivan vi was sent to a fortress near the swedish frontier. the germans were brought before a court and condemned to death, but elizabeth commuted the sentence to exile. after this she went to moscow, where she was crowned as czarina. her next act was to send for her nephew, peter, the son of her sister anne of holstein. he came and entered the greek church, when he was proclaimed as heir to the throne as peter feodorovitch. sweden demanded the cession of the territory conquered by peter the great, and, since elizabeth refused, the war continued. but sweden was no longer the kingdom of charles xii; the russians were everywhere victorious, and by the peace of abo, in , sweden ceded south finland and agreed to elect elizabeth's ally, adolphus of holstein, as heir to the throne. in the emperor of germany died, after obtaining from the powers the consent to set aside the salic law of succession, in favor of his daughter. this law restricted the right of succession to male (p.  ) heirs exclusively. in violation of the pledged word, several claimants appeared to contest the claim of his daughter maria theresa, and since almost every nation took sides, it was important to know what russia would do. elizabeth was undecided; at least, she played with both sides until , when she entered into an alliance with maria theresa, while england promised subsidies in money. it was, however, before a russian army of , men passed through germany and took up a position on the rhine. in the same year the war was ended by the peace of aix-la-chapelle, without the russians having been under fire. elizabeth hated frederick the great of prussia. she claimed that "the king of prussia is certainly a bad prince who has no fear of god before his eyes; he turns holy things into ridicule, and he never goes to church." the real reason was that frederick had expressed his opinion about elizabeth's private life, and she was not the woman to forgive his remarks. then again, frederick had an excellent army of , men; elizabeth's chancellor, on that account, called prussia "the most dangerous of neighbors, whose power it was necessary to break." russia, austria, france, and saxony, entered into a secret alliance against prussia. frederick found it out, and in , began the famous seven years' war. the same year, , russians under apraxine crossed the frontier and seized east prussia. a battle was fought; the russians were the victors, but apraxine fell back across the niemen. france and austria suspected treachery; apraxine was arrested and the chancellor was dismissed and exiled. fermor was appointed (p.  ) commander-in-chief. the russian army recrossed the frontier in , took königsberg and bombarded küstrin on the oder. frederick with , men attacked the russian army , strong at zorndorf. the russians fought stubbornly but were defeated with a loss of , men. fermor was recalled, and succeeded by soltykof who, in , entered frankfort on the oder. another battle was fought and frederick was defeated by greatly superior numbers. he lost , men. prussia was exhausted, but his enemies, too, began to feel the expense of the war. elizabeth, however, was determined to humble the outspoken king when she died suddenly in . she was succeeded by her nephew peter feodorovitch under the name of peter iii. elizabeth, although careless in her mode of living, was a stout supporter of the greek church. in , she agreed with the holy synod to suppress all other churches, as well as the mosques or mahomedan temples in the south. this caused a revolt of the mahomedans. the jews were also expelled in some parts of the empire. a fever of fanaticism broke out; fifty-three _raskolnik_ in russia, and one hundred and seventy-two in siberia, burned themselves to death. count ivan schouvalof, one of elizabeth's friends, believed in education and was given a free hand. he ordered that the priests and their children should attend school, on penalty of being whipped. he founded the university of moscow, which has educated many learned russians. to induce students to enter, he induced elizabeth to (p.  ) make a law that all students should be tchins of the tenth grade, and the professors hold the eighth grade. he sent young men abroad to study and established higher schools in every government. schouvalof was also the founder of the academy of fine arts at st. petersburg. that capital was growing; its population was , under elizabeth. she built the winter palace and saw the plans for tsarskoé selo, the magnificent retreat of the russian emperors. she reëstablished the senate, as organized by peter the great. xxi--russia under catherine ii (the great). (p.  ) peter iii was thirty-four years old when he succeeded to the throne. although it was twenty years since his aunt elizabeth sent for him from holstein, he was more of a german than a russian, and had an intense admiration for frederick the great. he at once reversed russia's policy, ordered the commander-in-chief of the russian armies to leave his austrian allies, and made peace with the king of prussia to whom he restored all russia's conquests. then he entered into an alliance with frederick, which was the means of saving prussia. peter relieved the nobles of the duty of serving the state, for which they were so grateful that they proposed to erect his statue in gold; he heard of it, and forbade their doing so. he abolished the secret court of police, and showed great kindness to the raskols and permitted many of them to return from siberia. a host of other exiles were recalled, and he thought of relieving the hard lot of the moujiks. for all this, he was unpopular and disliked. his disregard for old russian customs and his mode of life gave deep offense. he was married to sophia of anhalt, who had assumed the name of catherine; she (p.  ) was a woman of decided ability and strong character. peter wanted a divorce. she heard of it and contrived a conspiracy among the high nobles and officers of the army and navy. peter had no thought of danger, when he ordered the arrest of passek, a young officer and favorite of catherine. thinking that the conspiracy had been discovered, she left her palace in the outskirts and came to st. petersburg where the three regiments of foot guards declared in her favor, and peter's uncle was arrested by his own regiment of horse guards. when catherine entered the winter palace, she was sure of the army and navy; cronstadt was seized by her supporters, and she issued a proclamation assuming the government. at the head of , men, she marched upon the palace, where the czar, her husband, was residing. peter fled to cronstadt and sought the admiral. "i am the czar," he said. "there is no longer a czar," was the reply, and all peter could do was to return to his palace, where he abdicated "like a child being sent to sleep," as frederick the great expressed it. he then called on his wife, "after which," catherine tells us, "i sent the deposed emperor, under the command of alexis orlof accompanied by four officers and a detachment of gentle and reasonable men, to a place called ropcha, fifteen miles from peterhof, a secluded spot, but very pleasant." four days later peter iii was dead. catherine declared that he died of colic "with the blood flying to the brains." [illustration: catharine ii] but one was living with just and strong claims to the throne. ivan vi, the infant czar sent to prison by elizabeth in , was now (p.  ) twenty-one years old. it was reported that he had lost his reason, which may have been true or false. catherine disposed of him. she said: "it is my opinion that he should not be allowed to escape, so as to place him beyond the power of doing harm. it would be best to tonsure him (that is, to make a monk of him), and to transfer him to some monastery, neither too near nor too far off; it will suffice if it does not become a shrine." she did not desire that the people should make a martyr of a descendant of peter the great, while she, a foreign woman, was occupying the throne. poor ivan was murdered by his keepers two years later, when a lieutenant of the guards was trying to effect his escape. after that, catherine had no rival for the crown, except her son paul, whom she disliked. at first it seemed as if catherine would reverse her husband's policy with regard to prussia. she gave orders to the army to leave the prussian camp, but she did not command active hostilities; since the parties felt the exhaustion of a seven years' struggle, peace negotiations were begun and concluded successfully. catherine made russia a party to the system of the north; that is, she entered into an alliance with england, prussia, and denmark, as against france and austria. nearly all europe was deeply interested in the severe illness of the king of poland, because of the election which must follow his death. unhappy poland was bringing destruction upon itself. a lawless nobility kept the country in anarchy, and religious persecution, which had disappeared elsewhere, was still rampant. it was the gold distributed by interested powers, that controlled the vote of the diet, and since it was merely a (p.  ) question of the highest bidder, frederick the great and catherine came to an understanding. they decided to elect stanislas poniatowski, a polish noble. france and austria supported the prince of saxony, who was also the choice of the court party. after the death of augustus iii, the diet assembled and elected the french and austrian candidate. members of the diet asked for russian intervention and, supported by catherine's army, poniatowski was placed on the throne. russia and prussia were not satisfied; they wanted part of the kingdom and the prevailing anarchy on their frontiers justified them. but catherine made a pretext out of poland's religious intolerance,--although the same existed in russia. in , koninski, the bishop of the greek church presented to the king a petition asking redress for a number of grievances which he enumerated. the king promised relief and submitted the matter to the diet of . the majority would not hear of any tolerance, although russia had on the frontier an army of , men ready to invade poland. the diet of showed the same foolish spirit, but it was broken when two of its members, both catholic bishops, were arrested under russian orders, and carried into russian territory. the diet did not appear to resent this violation of a friendly territory but entered in into a treaty with russia, in which it was agreed that poland would make no change in its constitution without russia's consent. the russian army was withdrawn from warsaw, and a deputation from the diet was sent to st. petersburg to thank catherine. two hostile parties soon appeared in arms. the catholics raised (p.  ) the banner "pro religione et libertate!"--as if they understood what liberty meant! france helped with money, and urged the sultan of turkey to declare war against russia, so that catherine would be compelled to withdraw her troops. russia was inciting those of the greek and protestant religions to whom assistance was promised. in the winter of , the tartars of the crimea, aided by the turks, invaded russia, and catherine dispatched an army of , men,--all she could spare. in the following year, the russians attacked and defeated the enemy , strong at khotin on the dnieper, and in the khan of the crimea met the same fate. in the same year at the battle of kagul, , russians defeated , turks commanded by the grand vizier. in the same year the russians destroyed the turkish fleet in the port of chesmé. in , the tartars of the crimea were put to rout, and the russians took bessarabia and some forts on the danube. they were, however, too late to take possession of the dardanelles, which the turks had put into a state of defense. austria was becoming alarmed at russia's victories, and lent a willing ear to the suggestion of frederick the great that it would be safer to permit russia to gain territory belonging to poland, provided austria and prussia should receive their share. on february , , a treaty was concluded between russia and prussia, and accepted by austria in april, whereby poland was deprived of a good part of its territory. catherine, secured white russia with a population of , , ; frederick the great took west prussia with , inhabitants, (p.  ) and austria received western gallicia and red russia with , , people. this was the beginning of the end of poland. the peace negotiations with turkey were broken off, and war was resumed. being busy elsewhere, catherine could not prevent a _coup d'état_ in sweden, which saved that country from the fate of poland. besides suffering from these constant wars, russia was visited by the plague, which in july and august, , daily carried off a thousand victims in moscow alone. the archbishop, an enlightened man, was put to death by a mob for ordering the streets to be fumigated. troops were necessary to restore order. the condition of the country was dreadful. alexander bibikof was sent to suppress a dangerous insurrection, he wrote to his wife after arriving on the spot, that the general discontent was frightful. it was for this reason that catherine concluded peace with the sultan in ; besides an indemnity, she received azof on the don and all the strong places in the crimea, and was recognized as the protector of the sultan's christian subjects. in , she finally broke the power of the cossacks. through the mediation of france and russia, a war between prussia and austria concerning the succession in bavaria, was narrowly averted. during the american war of independence, russia, sweden, denmark, prussia, and portugal, proclaimed armed neutrality, and holland declared war, because british warships caused endless trouble to vessels under neutral flags. this celebrated act declared "that contraband goods" included only arms and ammunition. most countries agreed (p.  ) to this, with the exception of england. in catherine annexed the crimea, on the plea that anarchy prevailed. turkey protested and threatened war but france meditated and the sultan recognized the annexation by the treaty of constantinople in . in , a remarkable secret agreement was signed between russia and austria. it is known as the _greek project_, and was nothing less than a scheme to divide turkey between the two powers. the plot as proposed by russia, was to create an independent state under the name of dacia, to embrace moldavia, wallachia, and bessarabia, with a prince belonging to the greek church at the head. russia was to receive otchakof, the shore between the bug and the dnieper, and some islands in the archipelago, and austria would annex the turkish province adjoining its territory. if the turk should be expelled from europe, the old byzantine empire was to be reëstablished, and the throne occupied by catherine's grandson constantine, "who would renounce all his claims to russia, so that the two empires might never be united under the same scepter." austria agreed on condition that she should also receive the venetian possessions in moldavia, when venice would be indemnified by part of greece. soon after this the sultan declared war against russia. this took catherine by surprise. other enemies sprang up: the king of prussia wanted dantzig, the king of sweden, south finland. the latter invaded russia and might have marched upon st. petersburg, for all catherine could collect was an army of , men. a mutiny in the camp of (p.  ) gustavus iii, compelled him to return to stockholm, and the opportunity was lost. he defeated the russians in the naval battle of svenska sund, but a second engagement was to the advantage of russia. the french revolution caused him to make peace, and to enter into an alliance with russia against the french. in the south russian arms were more fortunate. the turks were defeated in , and , on which occasions a young general named souvorof distinguished himself. upon the death of joseph ii of austria, his successor leopold made peace with turkey at sistova. ( .) it was the french revolution, which seriously alarmed every crowned head in europe, and which induced catherine to follow leopold's example at jassy, in january, , russia kept only otchakof and the shore between the bug and the dniester. poland, meanwhile, had made an earnest effort at reform. thaddeus kosciusko had returned from the united states, where he had fought for liberty and was trying to save his own country. born in , he entered a military school founded by the czartoryskis at the age of twelve, and distinguished himself by attention to his studies and duties. his father was assassinated by exasperated peasants, and he himself was scornfully ejected by a powerful noble whose daughter he was courting. attracted by the struggle of a handful of colonists against powerful england, he went to america and served with distinction in the war of the revolution. after seeing great britain humbled and a new republic established in the new world, he came back to poland and was soon among the foremost reformers,--a man in (p.  ) whom the patriotic poles justly trusted. but traitors were found to accept russian bribes, and for the second time poland was despoiled. russia annexed the eastern provinces with , , inhabitants, and prussia took dantzig and thorn. austria was told that she might take from the french republic as much as she wished,--or could. manfully and indefatigably did kosciusko labor to stem the tide of his country's ruin. his patriotism aroused even that of the poor, down-trodden serfs, who had no interests to defend, yet stood by him in battle when the nobles on horseback fled, and wrenched a victory out of defeat. well might kosciusko thereafter dress in the garb of a peasant; a gentleman's dress was a badge of dishonor. it was in , that this battle took place and gave the signal, too, for an effort to restore poland. but austria, prussia, and russia combined, and poland was lost. heroic children were made to pay for the sins of their fathers. poland expired in . prussia took eastern poland, including warsaw; austria annexed cracow, sandomir, lublin, and selm, and russia took what remained. the patriots dispersed; most of them took service with the french, hoping for an opportunity to revive their country. catherine took especial pains to prevent the ideas, which alone made the french revolution possible, from entering into russia. there was no occasion for this prudence. the great majority of the russian people did not know of any world beyond russia; most of them knew (p.  ) nothing beyond the narrow horizon of their own village, and could neither read nor write. the harrowing tales brought by the fugitive french nobles did not tend toward inspiring the russian aristocracy with sympathy for liberty, equality, and fraternity. satisfied that russia was beyond the sphere of what she regarded as pernicious doctrines, catherine determined to make the greatest possible profit out of the disturbed condition of europe. she never ceased to incite prussia and austria against the french republic, but carefully refrained from spending a dollar or risking a man. she pleaded first her war with turkey, and afterwards the polish insurrection. she said to osterman, one of her ministers: "am i wrong? for reasons that i cannot give to the courts of berlin and vienna, i wish to involve them in these affairs, so that i may have my hands free. many of my enterprises are still unfinished, and they must be so occupied as to leave me unfettered." while europe was engaged in the hopeless task of establishing and maintaining the divine rights of kings, catherine began a war with persia. one of her "unfinished enterprises" was interrupted by her death in november, , at the age of sixty-seven. she left the throne to her son paul. xxii--russia during the wars of napoleon. (p.  ) paul was forty-two years old when he succeeded to the throne. his youth and early manhood had been far from pleasant. his mother had never shown any love for him, and paul had not forgotten his father's sudden death. he was held in absolute submission, and was not permitted to share in the government; he had not even a voice in the education of his children. the courtiers, in order to please his mother, showed him scant courtesy; this is probably the reason of his sensitiveness after he came to the throne. he ordered men and women to kneel down in the street when he was passing, and those who drove in carriages had to halt. it is also shown in this remark, "know that the only person of consideration in russia is the person whom i address, at the moment that i am addressing him." it was justice, but it reflected upon his mother's memory when, immediately after her death, paul ordered his father's remains to be exhumed, to be buried at the same time and with the same pomp as those of catherine. such a man could have no sympathy with the french revolution which was shaking the foundations of old europe. he forbade the use of any word that might be construed to refer to it. he ordered the army to (p.  ) adopt the russian uniform, including the powdered pigtails of that time. souvorof fell in disgrace because he was reported to have said: "there is powder and powder. shoe buckles are not gun carriages, nor pigtails bayonets; we are not prussians but russians." paul pardoned a number of exiled poles, and brought the last king, stanislas poniatowski, to st. petersburg. he discontinued the war with persia, and instructed his ambassadors to announce that since russia, and russia alone, had been at war since , "the humanity of the emperor did not allow him to refuse his beloved subjects the peace for which they sighed." nevertheless, russia was drawn into napoleon's gigantic wars. uneasy at the plans of the french republic, paul entered into an alliance with england, austria, naples, and turkey. he furnished troops for england's descent upon holland, and recalled souvorof to take command of the russian forces cooperating with those of austria. the british expedition proved a failure, but souvorof's strategy and indomitable courage shed glory upon the russian army. when souvorof arrived at vienna, he took command of the allied forces consisting of , men. on april , , he surprised moreau at cassano and took , prisoners. he entered milan, and soon after laid siege to mantua, alessandria, and turin. on june , souvorof was attacked on the trebia; the battle lasted three days, leaving the victory to the russians. after the victory at novi, on the th of august, the french were forced to evacuate italy. souvorof had divided his force of , russians into two corps, (p.  ) one to operate in switzerland, the other under his own command, to conduct the campaign in italy. his great success brought upon him the envy of the austrian generals, by whom his movements were constantly hampered. he therefore resolved to effect a junction with the forces in switzerland, who, on the th of september, had been defeated at zurich with a loss of , men. souvorof did not know this. he reached the st. gothard on the st and crossed it under unheard-of difficulties. "in this kingdom of terrors," he writes to paul, "abysses open beside us at every step, like tombs awaiting our arrival. nights spent among the clouds, thunder that never ceases, rain, fog, the noise of cataracts, the breaking of avalanches, enormous masses of rocks and ice which fall from the heights, torrents which sometimes carry men and horses down the precipices, the st. gothard, that colossus who sees the mists pass under him,--we have surmounted all, and in these inaccessible spots the enemy has been forced to give way before us. words fail to describe the horrors we have seen, and in the midst of which providence has preserved us." "the russian, inhabitant of the plain, was awestruck by the grandeur of this mountain scenery." souvorof brushed the french out of his way until, on the th, he arrived at altdorf with the loss of only , men. here he received information of the defeat at zurich, and saw that he was surrounded on all sides by superior forces. his retreat showed the highest military skill, as well as the man's indomitable energy. over untrodden mountains, and snow at one place five feet deep, he guided the (p.  ) remains of his army to a lower altitude, and went into winter quarters between the iler and the lech. souvorof complained bitterly to the czar of the austrian generals, who had given him ample reason. at about this time napoleon had returned from his fruitless campaign in egypt, and at marengo defeated the austrians, whereby the results of souvorof's campaign were lost. paul was angry at austria and great britain. napoleon, shrewdly guessed the czar's feelings, released the russian prisoners, after equipping them anew. paul satisfied that napoleon was an enemy of republican institutions, conceived an intense admiration for his military genius, and came to an understanding with him to overthrow british rule in india. the czar at once commenced to prepare its execution. two armies were formed; one was to march on the upper indus by way of khiva and bokhara, while the cossacks under their hetman denisof would go by orenburg. he was confident that the gigantic task could be accomplished, and sent daily instructions to the hetman. napoleon had a far better idea of the difficulties, but he did not consider the expedition as hopeless. but even if it failed, he would be the winner, because england would be compelled to send most of her navy to india, while russia would be too fully occupied, to interfere with his projects in europe. the cossacks started on their long journey, by crossing the volga on the floating ice when, on the th of march, , paul was assassinated in his palace. there was no doubt as to the guilty men, but paul's son, alexander, who succeeded him, did not order an investigation. pahlen, panine, (p.  ) zoubof, and others, known as the "men of the th of march," were removed from office, but that was their only punishment. paul's mother had alienated her grandchildren from the father, and alexander always showed greater affection for catherine than for paul. the greatest sufferer was napoleon, who saw his grand schemes go up in smoke. alexander reversed his father's policy, both at home and abroad. he came to an understanding with england. napoleon tried earnestly to secure the new czar's friendship. he wanted a free hand in europe and in return offered the same privilege in asia, but alexander mistrusted the first consul. the murder of the duke of enghien, who, by napoleon's order, was kidnaped in a neutral territory and shot,--still further alienated the czar. after napoleon's coronation as emperor, alexander entered into an alliance with england, whereby he would receive six million dollars for every , men russia placed in the field. the emperor of austria and the king of prussia joined, but the austrians, whose generals seemed unable to learn by experience, were defeated before the russian army could reach the tyrol. once again the russians covered themselves with glory by koutouzof's masterly retreat to the north, and bagration's heroic self-sacrifice. at olmutz, in the presence of alexander, the russo-austrian army, , strong, was attacked by napoleon with , men. the austrians had induced the czar to adopt their plan of battle, and it met with the usual result. alexander escaped, escorted by his physician, two cossacks, and a company of the guards. (dec. ., .) twenty-four days later alexander concluded peace with france by the treaty of presburg. (p.  ) the growing power of napoleon induced alexander to enter into a new coalition with england, prussia, and sweden. russia bore the brunt of the war, after prussia had been rendered harmless after the battles of jena and auerstadt. the russians withdrew from prussian poland; they suddenly left their winter quarters and attacked the french. on the th of february, one of the bloodiest battles was fought at eylau; the french claimed the victory, but it was barren of results. napoleon dreaded russia. he persuaded the sultan of turkey and the shah of persia to declare war, so as to occupy alexander elsewhere. the czar, however, was loyal to his allies until, on the th of june, his army was almost annihilated at friedland. this loss compelled him to enter into negotiations. on june , , the two emperors met on a raft at tilsit. napoleon was prepared to do almost anything that would induce alexander to cease interfering in europe. an offensive-defensive alliance was concluded, whereby napoleon agreed not to oppose the expulsion of the turk or russia's conquest of constantinople. the czar meant to carry out the treaty in letter and in spirit, but he soon saw that napoleon's ambition was limitless, and that he was playing with his ally. this was evident by the proposed partition of turkey: nothing came of it. still he accepted napoleon's invitation to a conference at erfurt, where he was received by the french emperor amid a court composed of sovereigns and princes. a convention was signed on the th of october, , whereby alexander promised napoleon a free hand, in return for the annexation by (p.  ) russia of finland and the turkish provinces on the danube. this led to a war with great britain, sweden, and austria, not including turkey and persia. russia acquired finland, when alexander, after convoking the diet, guaranteed its constitution, privileges, and university. in , war again broke out between austria and france. by the terms of the alliance, russia had agreed to furnish troops, but they showed that they did not relish fighting with the french. there were two engagements; in one of these, the casualties were one russian killed and two wounded. by an oversight of napoleon the poles serving under him were to cooperate with the russians, and, far from doing so, they often came to blows. the russian general constantly sent complaints to the czar. napoleon made a great effort to appease alexander by assigning to russia eastern gallicia with a population of , . alexander declined to be represented in the peace negotiations at vienna. napoleon's creation of the grand dukedom of warsaw was a constant menace to russia. meanwhile the russians were uniformly victorious in turkey; the czar concluded peace only when it was evident that war with france was unavoidable, and that russia would need every man. it was on this account that he gave easy terms to the hard-pressed sultan. russia annexed bessarabia, part of roumania, ismaïl, and kilia on the lower danube. the time for the momentous struggle had arrived. napoleon, the master of continental europe, thought that he was more than a match for serf-ridden russia. he reckoned upon the echo which the words (p.  ) liberty, equality, and fraternity, would awaken in the hearts of the moujik, and forgot that they were abstract ideas which to the serf, struggling for enough black bread to allay the cravings of hunger, were so many empty sounds. he tried to arouse europe's suspicions of russia's designs, not thinking that any yoke, even that of the tartars, would be a welcome relief to nations mourning for the slaughter of their sons. napoleon left paris for dresden on the th of may, ; on the first of june an army of , men, including , poles, stood ready to invade russia. alexander had only , men under bagration and barclay de tolly, , posted on the niemen, and , on the vistula; but he issued a proclamation announcing a holy war. "rise all of you!" he urged, "with the cross in your hearts and arms in your hands, no human force can prevail against you!" napoleon advanced clutching shadows. after his army left wilna, leaving dead desolation in its wake, the time soon came when retreat was no longer possible. russian patriotism clamored for battle and russian prudence had to give way to it. all of koutouzof's remarkable influence was required to restrain his men under the retreat which foretold victory, because every step forward sealed napoleon's doom. the corsican knew it but, with the superstition born in him, trusted to his star. finally he drew near moscow, the holy city, where count rostopchine, the governor, was preparing the grand climax of the drama, while pacifying russian patriotism by a series of hardy falsehoods. "i have resolved," he explained, "at every disagreeable piece of (p.  ) news to raise doubts as to its truth; by this means, i shall weaken the first impression, and before there is time to verify it, others will come which will require investigation." the people implicitly believed his most daring inventions. when he evacuated moscow, he ordered all prisons to be opened, and the guns in the arsenal to be distributed among the people; he also had the pumps removed and finally gave instructions to set fire to the stores of _vodka_ and the boats loaded with alcohol. napoleon arrived at the kremlin on the th of september. short as was his sojourn, it was with difficulty that he escaped through the flames and found refuge in a park. why did he waste thirty-five days in the charred capital? was it belief in his star, or was it despair at the ruin of his prospects? on the th of october, the remnant of the grand army started on its long journey over the desert it had left behind, because all other roads were closed to it. the retreat has been described by many writers; but what pen shall do justice to the suffering caused by the unusually severe winter, the snow, the ice, the hunger, and the thirst? and how many hearts were rent, when the news came of the dead, the wounded, and the missing? napoleon's campaign in russia was the most impressive sermon against war, but it fell upon heedless ears. after the battle of the berezina, napoleon left the army and hurried home. all his thoughts were on the effect of the disastrous defeat,--not upon the hundred thousand desolate homes, but upon his own fortunes. he arrived in paris where he gathered , men, many of them mere youths, to support him with their blood. but (p.  ) europe was weary of slaughter. kings might tremble for their crowns, it was the people, aroused to frenzy, that impelled them to action. on napoleon's heels, besides, there was a bloodhound whom nobler instincts than mere self-preservation inspired to ceaseless pursuit. alexander i, at this time, earned and deserved the glorious surname of the well-beloved. not a thought of self-glory or personal aggrandizement sullied the relentless chase. emperors and kings dreading the awakened conscience of the people would have made peace, and they could have done so with security for themselves, but alexander said, "no!" under fire at the four days' battle of leipzig, he personally directed reënforcements where they were required. and when, at last, the host of invaders stepped on the soil whose people during twenty years had committed outrages in almost every known country of europe, they were noble words which the autocrat addressed to his troops whom he had brought so far away from home. "by invading our empire," he says, "the enemy has done us much harm, and has therefore been subjected to a terrible chastisement. the anger of god has overthrown him. do not let us imitate him. the merciful god does not love cruel and inhuman men. let us forget the evil he has wrought; let us carry to our foes, not vengeance and hate, but friendship, and a hand extended in peace." these were not mere words; alexander the well-beloved was sincere. but it was he who refused to receive napoleon's envoy at freiburg, and it was he who, when napoleon, fighting like a tiger at bay, was defeating the separated armies, so that the british envoy urged to (p.  ) come to terms with him, answered, "it would not be a peace but a truce. i cannot come four hundred leagues to your assistance every day. no peace, so long as napoleon is on the throne!" by his direction the united armies rolled like an avalanche upon paris,--and napoleon gave up the struggle by abdicating. again it was alexander the well-beloved who intervened when other powers would have overwhelmed the fallen colossus. it was alexander who procured for his enemy the sovereignty of the island of elba, and commissioned count schouvalof to escort him. "i confide to you a great mission;" he said; "you will answer to me with your head for a single hair which falls from the head of napoleon." at the congress of vienna assembled the statesmen to dispose of nations and peoples, as their own ambition prompted. alexander desired to unite poland to his crown, but separate from russia; but was opposed by austria, great britain, and france, who entered into a secret alliance against him. had napoleon waited two hundred days instead of half that time, who knows that he might not yet have been the arbiter of europe? his descent united all factions, and alexander declared that he would pursue napoleon "down to his last man and his last ruble." once again armies were set in motion, and once again napoleon resorted to his well-known tactics of destroying his enemies one by one. he failed at waterloo. (june , .) again the allies re-entered paris, the prussians first but closely followed by the czar and his army. "justice, but no revenge!" proclaimed alexander when blücher would (p.  ) have followed napoleon's example of robbing a country of its works of art. the czar stood the friend of france when prussia demanded a frontier which would render her safe from french invasion; but he said frankly that he "wished to allow some danger to exist on that side, so that germany, having need of russia, might remain dependent," he was in favor of allowing the french to select their own government, but was overruled. at last the allies came to an understanding, and poland was joined to the russian crown. the polish soldiers who had fought so bravely under napoleon, placed themselves at the czar's service, hoping and trusting that their country would revive under a russian king. alexander's promises at vienna had been vague, but recent events had made a deep impression upon him. in this frame of mind, he directed that poland be restored. this was announced on the st of june, at warsaw amid the roar of cannon. constantine, alexander's brother, was made king, and a legislative body, composed of a senate and house of representatives, was formed under a constitution which also guaranteed the freedom of the press. thus alexander returned to russia. soon after that he gave evidence that strong emotions were required to subdue the inborn prejudice in favor of autocracy. russia, of necessity, had acquired an overwhelming influence in europe. this showed at the several congresses, at aix-la-chapelle in , at carlsbad in , at troppau in , and at verona in . the crowned heads of europe appeared unable to comprehend that the french revolution, with its orgies of blood (p.  ) and tears, had produced an impassable abyss between the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. they wished to return to the conditions prevailing before the revolution, which caused the success of that upheaval; but the people, the masses, had quaffed of the cup of liberty, and the taste lingered. the holy alliance with its unholy aims might ordain what it pleased, the _people_ obstinately refused to resume the place of beasts of burden for the benefit of the state. thus a spirit of unrest was perceptible, and when alexander learned that his "i, the czar, will it!" was not able to restore quiet, he joined the other crowned heads in their struggle against more liberal ideas. from that time his conduct changed. there was evidence of this in the events occurring in the south. the majority of the inhabitants of the balkan provinces of turkey belonged to the greek church, and looked to alexander for relief from the oppressive mahomedan yoke. the servians took up arms, the people of greece did the same. on easter day, , the patriarch of the greek church at constantinople was seized at the altar, and hung in his vestment at the door of the church. three metropolitans and eight bishops were also murdered. the news caused deep indignation in russia, but alexander moved not. he believed in the theory that no people should be encouraged in rising against its ordained masters. in russia all liberal ideas were rigidly suppressed. in , alexander left st. petersburg for the south where he intended to spend some time. he was full of gloomy forebodings and gave further evidence of an unsound mind by having a mass for the dead sung in (p.  ) his presence in broad daylight. while in the crimea he was heard to repeat: "they may say what they like of me, but i have lived and will die a republican." he died on the th of november, , while on his journey. he left no sons. his brother constantine had renounced the crown when he became king of poland, and in , alexander had made his next brother nicholas his successor. alexander's reign marked a new era for russia inasmuch as it was brought into closer contact with europe, and promised to change in thought and impulse, from an asiatic into a european nation. the necessity of securing the help of the masses against napoleon's invasion created newspapers, and writers of unusual ability expressed their patriotic thoughts in prose and poetry. in , the imperial library was opened to the public at st. petersburg. it contained at that time , volumes, and about , manuscripts. in , captains krusenstern and lisianski made the first russian voyage around the world in the _nadejda_ (the _hope_), and the _neva_. it was on this occasion that russia entered into relations with the united states. xxiii--an eventful period. (p.  ) alexander's will came as a surprise upon nicholas, but constantine was loyal to his promise and after a brief but generous contest, nicholas was crowned at moscow. twenty-three days had elapsed since alexander's death, long enough to show that the spirit of unrest had penetrated into russia. on the th of december there were some disturbances at moscow, but they were suppressed without great trouble. the secret police hunted down the leaders, many of whom were known in art or literature, but they suffered death. nicholas, a man of colossal stature, commanding appearance, iron will, passion for a military life, of simple and correct habits, was a true champion of the right divine of kings. he had neither sympathy nor patience with any movement tending toward greater liberty for the people. nevertheless nicholas was much more popular than alexander had been, because he was the type of the russian czars, who had increased russia's power and territory. not many days after his coronation, nicholas became involved in a quarrel with the shah of persia. in vain did the shah call upon great britain for help; the persians were twice defeated in , and the russians were on the road to teheran when the shah preferred to (p.  ) save his capital by ceding two provinces, and paying a heavy indemnity in . the following year, the russian minister at teheran was murdered, but persia escaped with a humble apology. turkey, too, was made to feel nicholas' heavy hand; urged by other powers the sultan submitted to the loss of territory in asia, which had been in dispute, and permitted the free passage of russian vessels between the black sea and the mediterranean. (convention of akkerman, oct. , .) the czar, after this, took up the greek question, and entered into an agreement with england and france. in vain did the sultan offer the plea which had been successful with alexander, that the greeks "violated the passive obedience owed by subjects to their legitimate sovereigns." nicholas wanted turkey for himself, and proposed to leave no stone unturned to secure possession of constantinople. after the battle of navarino, on the th of october, , where the allied forces destroyed the turkish fleet. england withdrew, suspicious of nicholas' schemes; but france and russia continued the war until by the peace of adrianople, the sultan recognized the independence of greece,--and ceded to russia four fortresses in asia and the islands in the delta of the danube. russia was thus in possession of the whole southern slope of the caucasus, besides holding part of its northern front. the czar began war upon the tribes dwelling in the mountains, but found that he had engaged in a very difficult enterprise. a soldier-priest named schamyl defied the power of russia for a quarter of a century. it cost nicholas more in men (p.  ) and money to subdue the liberty-loving mountaineer, than all the wars he waged in asia. the year , was one of great unrest in europe. nicholas was deeply angered when his friend charles x of france was expelled. the revolution in paris was the signal for a similar movement in the capital of poland. owing to the independent expression of opinion in the diet, alexander had adjourned that body indefinitely in . at the same time the liberty of the press was revoked and the police assumed a power in defiance of the law. the grand duke constantine was really a friend of poland, but he was eccentric and impetuous and often unconsciously gave offense. in , nicholas came to warsaw to open the diet, when its members made demands which he could not grant. both sides were angry when nicholas returned to st. petersburg. as soon as the french tricolor was raised above the consulate at warsaw, the trouble commenced. taken unprepared, constantine withdrew with his troops. again the poles were divided; the patriots advised reconciliation with russia, while hotheads demanded the abdication of the romanofs. the first party sent a deputation to st. petersburg and another to paris and london, to secure mediation. the czar's answer was decisive; he absolutely refused to "make concessions (to the revolutionists), as the price of their crimes." again, too, there was discord among the leaders as they entered upon a life or death struggle. poland appealed to europe. the people were sympathetic, but the governments, rejoicing at seeing a revolutionary movement suppressed, refused to interfere. in february, , a russian army of , men invaded poland. (p.  ) the poles showed a heroism which appealed to the people of europe, but more than sympathy was needed to arrest the irresistible russian advance upon warsaw. constantine and the russian commander-in-chief fell the victims of cholera, but an epidemic of discord struck poland and sealed its fate. on the th of september, warsaw was invested. the capital was forced to surrender. "warsaw is at your feet," wrote the commander-in-chief to the czar, who lost no time in trampling upon the conquered. the constitution was abrogated, the diet, a thing of the past. poland was no more. where it had stood, was a russian province. russian officials introduced russian taxes, russian coinage, and russian justice such as it was. the poles saw samples of it when thousands were arrested without process of law, and were sent to prison or to siberia, while other thousands lost their property by confiscation. in white russia and lithuania the use of the polish language was prohibited and the catholic clergy were forced to "ask" admittance to the bosom of the greek church. it must be admitted that the polish peasants benefited by the change. with a view of reducing the influence of the nobles, the government issued regulations protecting the laborer against the landowner. the polish revolution caused the reorganization of european policies. austria and prussia, each in possession of territory that formerly belonged to poland, entered into friendly relations with russia, whereas england and france, where public opinion could not be ignored, drew more closely together. nicholas was posing as the arbiter of (p.  ) europe and the champion of kings. he assumed the right to command, but would soon find his will contested. this was brought home to him in , when trouble broke out between turkey and egypt. the egyptian army was victorious and threatened constantinople, when the sultan appealed to the powers. russia responded at once by sending two armies, but a strong protest from england and france caused the withdrawal of the troops of russia as well as those of egypt. baffled, nicholas on june , , entered into an offensive-defensive alliance with the sultan, which really placed turkey and with it constantinople in russia's power. another sharp protest from england and france prevented the consummation of the alliance. in the trouble between turkey and egypt recommenced when great britain, anxious to preserve turkey's integrity, entered into an agreement with russia, austria and prussia, which was signed at london in july, . there was some danger of a war with france but england, fearing russia's designs, returned to her former ally. by the convention of july , , russia's designs upon old czargrad were postponed until a more favorable opportunity. in , nicholas visited england, but his reception in london was cool. he, however, entered into an agreement whereby the khanates of central asia should remain neutral ground between russia and india. in , trouble broke out in gallicia, where the poles rose against austria; but as the nobles had to subdue a revolt of their own (p.  ) peasants, order was quickly restored. the free city cracow was the resort of the poles. russia, austria, and prussia sent troops against it, and cracow was annexed by austria notwithstanding a protest from england and france. the year will long be remembered for the blows bestowed upon the divine right of kings, and the privileges which the sovereigns were compelled to concede to the people. the emperor ferdinand of austria was expelled from his capital, and the king of prussia was subjected to humiliation by his own people. france proclaimed the republic, and nicholas proclaimed himself the champion of the right divine. he dispatched an army into hungary, which was soon "at the feet of your majesty," and felt the wrath of the frightened ferdinand. notwithstanding this cooperation, the understanding among the three powers, russia, austria and prussia, was giving way before individual interests. when, in , prussia attempted to seize the german provinces of denmark, it was nicholas who compelled her to withdraw. on the th of may of that year, the independence and integrity of denmark were recognized by the treaty of london. in the same year louis napoleon made an end to the french republic by the notorious _coup d'État_. this gave great satisfaction to the czar who was heard to remark: "france has set an evil example; she will now set a good one. i have faith in the conduct of louis napoleon." the new emperor of france did not seem to appreciate this condescension, or else he showed gross ingratitude when france and austria, (p.  ) without even consulting nicholas, settled some troubles in turkey. the czar sent menzikoff as special envoy to constantinople to demand a new treaty whereby russia's rights as protector of the greek christians should be recognized. supported as he was by france, the sultan refused. nicholas then had a plain talk with sir hamilton seymour, the british minister at st. petersburg, wherein he revealed his designs upon turkey. as to constantinople, he said, he might establish himself there as a trustee, but not as a proprietor. sir hamilton, as in duty bound, notified his government, and england hastened to join france in opposing russia. pretending that all he wanted was a recognition of his rights, nicholas, on the d of july, , sent an army under gortchakof across the pruth. at this an allied british-french fleet took up a position near the threatened point, but did not cross the straits, which would have been a violation of the treaty. nicholas stormed; he declared that "this was a threat" and would lead to complications. austria proposed a conference at which russia, great britain, france, austria and prussia assisted. it seemed as if peace would be secured, when the sultan demanded that the russian forces should withdraw, whereupon admiral nakhimof, on the th of november, , destroyed the turkish fleet at sinopé. the british-french fleet then sailed into the black sea, and the russian ships sought shelter in the ports. in january, , napoleon iii made a last attempt at maintaining peace, but nicholas was thoroughly angry at the publication of seymour's dispatches, claiming that the conversation with the (p.  ) british minister was entitled to secrecy as between "a friend and a gentleman." austria and prussia resented the contempt which the czar had expressed for them, and on the th of april england and france entered into an offensive-defensive alliance. ten days later austria and prussia arrived at a written agreement providing for the possibility that the russians should attack austria or cross the balkans. nicholas had aroused all europe against him. the russian fleet was unable to cope with that of the allies, and thus condemned to inactivity in the ports. after heroic efforts, the russians were compelled to raise the siege of silistria, and to retire from the danube, while austria occupied the evacuated territory. but nicholas was dismayed when, after a conference on july , , the allied commanders resolved to attack the crimea. _russia was unprepared._ it was the assault upon russia's vaunted "holy soil," which gave a severe blow to the arbiter of europe, at home as well as abroad. still with clogged energy the russians worked to construct defenses. on the th of september troopships landed the allied armies, and on the th, the battle of the alma opened the road to sebastopol. the port of balaclava was captured by the allies, and three bloody battles were fought, at balaclava on the th of october, at inkermann on the th of november, and at eupatoria on the th of february, . it seemed as if the knowledge that an enemy was in russia, aroused the russians from a torpor. pamphlets and other publications denouncing the government in withering terms, seemed to spring up from the pavement. "arise, oh russia!" says one unknown writer, "devoured (p.  ) by enemies, ruined by slavery, shamefully oppressed by the stupidity of tchinovnik and spies, awaken from thy long sleep of ignorance and apathy! we have been kept in bondage long enough _by the successors of the tartar khans_. arise! and stand erect and calm before the throne of the despot; demand of him a reckoning for the national misfortunes. tell him boldly that his throne is not the altar of god, and that god has not condemned us to be slaves forever." the feeling among his people was not unknown to nicholas. whatever may be said of him, he was not weakling, fool, or hypocrite, and it was no disgrace that he felt as if the ground were giving way under his feet. he was upright and sincere, and had lived up to his convictions. there is no doubt that when these convictions grew dim, his strength vanished. he was heard to exclaim "my successor may do what he will: i cannot change." the sincerity of this man of iron showed in his losing his courage when doubts arose. life ceased to have any value for him. one day, in february, , while suffering from a severe cold, he went out without his overcoat. to the physician who tried to restrain him, he said: "you have done your duty; now let me do mine!" a serious illness followed, and he sent for his successor to whom he gave some instructions. as a message to his people, and a last cry for sympathy, he dictated the dispatch "the emperor is dying," which was sent to all the large towns of russia. on the th of march, , nicholas i was dead. under his directions wealthy merchants were classified as "chief (p.  ) citizens," which procured for them exemption from poll-tax, conscription, and corporal punishment. they might take part in the assessment of real estate, and were eligible to the offices to which members of the first class were entitled. the same privilege was extended to all who were entitled to the degree of master of arts, and free-born and qualified artists. it was he who built the first railway in russia, by drawing a straight line between moscow and st. petersburg. he also joined the volga and the don by a canal. his reign is also noted for the progress of russian literature. the works of ivan tourguénief are known throughout the civilized world. [illustration: alexander ii] (p.  ) xxiv--alexander ii, the liberator. (p.  ) alexander ii was thirty-seven years old when he succeeded to the throne. the war oppressed russia, and he felt that peace must be concluded. but russian diplomacy loves the tortuous path. the first proclamation of the czar announced that he promised "to accomplish the plans and desires of our illustrious predecessors, peter, catherine, alexander the well-beloved, and our father of imperishable memory." it was hoped that this would cause the other powers to propose peace, on account of the expense of the war. indeed, a conference was proposed and took place at vienna, but the demands of the allies were not so modest as russia expected; hence the war continued, and with it the siege of sebastopol. the danube territory was lost to russia since, on the d december , austria had undertaken to defend it, and prussia had agreed to help austria. but sebastopol was stubbornly defended. in the latter part of august , guns vomited death and destruction upon the doomed city where the russians lost , men. the french had dug fifty miles of trenches during the days of the siege, and , feet of mines before a single bastion. in one day , bombs and shells were fired into the town. on the th of september the (p.  ) assault was ordered, and sebastopol fell. again russia tried what boasting would effect. gortchakof declared to whoever chose to believe him that he would not voluntarily abandon the country where saint vladimir had received baptism, and the official newspaper announced that the war was now becoming serious, and that sebastopol being destroyed, a stronger fortress would be built. this meant that russia was anxious to secure favorable terms. the war had cost , men, and russia's credit at home was in a bad condition. austria offered the basis of an agreement which was accepted by russia, and on the th of february, , a congress met at paris. five days later the treaty of paris was signed. russia renounced the right of protecting the christians in the danubian principalities, and restored the delta of that river. the black sea was opened to merchant vessels of all nations, but closed to all warships, and no arsenals were to be constructed on its shores. the sultan agreed to renew the privileges of his christian subjects, but with the understanding that the powers should not find cause to interfere. it was a hard blow to russia's prestige, and indefinitely postponed the execution of making of russia the restored eastern roman empire. alexander, in many respects, was the opposite of his father; he seemed more like his uncle in his younger days when he earned the surname of well-beloved. it may be, however, that alexander was but the executor of his father's instructions, after doubt began to torture him. it is known that nicholas had seriously considered the emancipation of (p.  ) the serfs. alexander took it up in earnest. there were two serious difficulties, namely, the compensation to be allowed to the serf owners, and the extent of the soil to be allotted to the serfs. it must be remembered that, although the peasant had become resigned to serve the landowner, his proverb: "our backs are the owner's, but the soil is our own," showed how stubbornly he held to the conviction that it was his own land which he cultivated, however little profit he derived from his toil. for once the tchinovnik dared not interfere; public opinion had so strongly condemned their incompetence and dishonesty that the russian official was glad to efface himself; the landowners, on the other hand, showed little enthusiasm. they knew what their revenues were, but not what they would be under altered circumstances. soon after the treaty of paris had restored peace, alexander addressed his "faithful nobles" at moscow, inviting them to consult about the proper measures to be taken with the view to emancipation. when this produced no results, he appointed a committee, "for the amelioration of the condition of the peasants." the nobles of poland, seeing what was coming, declared themselves ready to emancipate their serfs. the czar gave his consent and the ukase containing it was sent to all the governors and marshals of the nobility "for your information," and also "for your instruction if the nobles under your administration should express the same intention as those of the three lithuanian governments." the press supported the czar, and for that reason was allowed an unusual freedom of expression. the plan was formed to reconstruct (p.  ) and strengthen the national mir. this was favored by a number of large landowners who saw in this plan the beginning of constitutional liberty. the czar directed that committees be appointed to examine the scheme. there were at this time , , serfs, of whom , , belonged to private landowners, , , were domestic servants, and the rest crown peasants who possessed greater privileges and enjoyed some degree of self-government. their local affairs were administered by the mir and an elected council with an elder as executive. they were judged by elected courts, that is juries, either in the mir court or in that of the volost (district). forty-six committees composed of , land and serf-owners, assembled to discuss the future of , , serfs and of , owners. these committees declared in favor of emancipation, but could not agree upon the allowance of acreage or the indemnity to the owners. another committee of twelve was appointed, presided over by the czar, but there alexander met considerable passive opposition. the czar made a journey through the provinces, where he appealed to the nobles, warning them that "reforms came better from above than below." after his return another committee superior in authority to the one existing and composed of friends of emancipation was called. its members, inspired by the czar, drafted laws whereby emancipation was to proceed at once, and stringent laws were made to prevent the free peasant from again becoming a serf, and to make of him a proprietor upon payment of an indemnity. on the d of march, , the emancipation ukase was published. the scheme, as is evident, was fraught with difficulty. a stroke (p.  ) of the pen by the hand of the czar could set free millions of serfs, but all the czar's power stopped short of endowing the serf with the dignity and responsibility, which are the freeman's birthright. for more than a century and a half, the moujik had been a beast of burden, toiling as he was bid, and finding recreation only in besotting himself with strong drink whenever he could find the means to indulge. mental faculties, save such as are inseparable from animal instinct, had lain dormant; moral perception was limited between the knout on one side, and gross superstition on the other. could such a being be intrusted with life and property? when the serf, brutalized by generations of oppression, should come to understand that he was free to do as he pleased, and that the hovel where he and his brood were styed was his to do with as he pleased, what could he be expected to do? would he not seize the opportunity to indulge in his favorite craving, and, having sold his property, swell the army of homeless vagabonds? the mir was the only means to prevent this, and mir meant serfdom under another name. the landowners disposed of their land, or of so much as was required to support the peasants, not to individuals but to the mir. to indemnify the owners, the mir could secure a loan whereby the debt was transferred from the owner to the government, and the mir was responsible for its payment as well as for the taxes. the moujik, as part of the mir, was responsible to the community for his share of the debt, and was not allowed to leave his village without a written permission from the starost or elder. he was, therefore, (p.  ) in a worse position than before the emancipation because in time of distress it was his lord's interest to support him, whereas after it he had to deal with a soulless government that demanded the taxes regardless of circumstances. the mir might succeed so long as the peasant remained in a state of tutelage; education only could lift him out of this,--but this means was not considered by the government. but whatever may have been alexander's intentions, the men charged with their execution had no sympathy with the moujik. the question never occurred to them: how shall we raise the peasant from his degradation? the problem before them was, how he should be made to support the state, as he had done before. the russian statesmen had no conception of the truth that the wealth of a state is gauged by the prosperity of the people. as to the serf, he did not consider that a boon had been bestowed upon him. the soil and the hovel were his, descended to him from his forbears! why, then, should he pay for them? he clung to this idea with all the stubbornness implanted by a sense of justice upon a limited intelligence. it had been hammered into his head that the little father at st. petersburg was conferring a favor upon him, and this was within his limited conception; but when he heard what the favor was, the only solution which his cunning brain could devise was that the nobles had cheated the czar, or that there had been some juggling with the ukase. thus grave disturbances occurred. in one district, that of kazan, , men rose at the call of the moujik petrof, who promised them the real article of liberty. troops were called out and a hundred peasants besides petrof were shot. (p.  ) similar disturbances occurred in other provinces. the poor moujik did not know that he was saddled with a debt which neither he nor his children could hope to pay; but he did know that he was charged with a debt which he had not incurred. nevertheless, the emancipation was a step forward. under the liberal impulse then rushing irresistibly over russia's broad level the upper classes clamored for reforms. they asked for the re-establishment of the douma as the beginning of a constitutional government, but the czar was not prepared to grant this, and he was right because under existing circumstances the peasants would have to be disfranchized,--and there is small choice between an autocracy and an oligarchy. it is to be regretted that the reforms in the judicial system, introduced by alexander in the ukases of to , have since been rescinded. secret examinations were displaced by open sessions of the courts, and criminal cases were decided by juries; the police was forbidden to examine the accused, which duty was placed into the hands of a qualified judge. appeals could be taken to a higher court, and the senate acted as a supreme court in the last resort. apart from this system was the justice of the peace who adjudged ordinary police cases, acted as an arbitrator, and decided civil suits when the amount involved did not exceed rubles ($ ). no appeal could be taken in cases involving less than thirty rubles in civil suits, or fifteen rubles or three days' prison in police offenses. if an appeal was taken the case was brought, not before a higher court, but before the collective justices of the peace of the district, whose verdict (p.  ) could be set aside only by the senate. the russian _goubernii_, governments, were divided into districts (_ouiezdi_). the imperial ukase of , created _zemstvos_ or district assemblies composed of representatives of the landed proprietors or gentlemen; or rural communes or mirs, and of the towns. these representatives were elected every three years. the assembly appointed an executive committee which is in permanent session, but the zemstvo assembles once a year. its duties are strictly limited to local affairs, such as keeping roads and bridges in repair; to watch over education and sanitation, to report on the condition of the harvest, and to guard against the occurrence of famine. above the district zemstvo is the goubernkoé zemstvo or provincial assembly, whose members are elected from the district zemstvos. its duties embrace the estimate of the provincial budget, and a general supervision over the districts. alexander was kindly disposed and meant to do well. he showed it by removing the barriers erected by his father between russia and western europe. foreigners in russia were granted civil rights, and russians were allowed to travel abroad. the universities were relieved of restraints and jews who had learned a trade could settle where they pleased. all these reforms were so many promises of a new era for russia. alexander soon found out that his concessions only served to create demands for more. the trouble began in poland, where the news of nicholas' death was received with relief, if not with joy. great hopes were entertained from the new czar; besides, the europe of (p.  ) was very different from that of : monarchs had learned the lesson that the people possessed inalienable rights. italy had shaken off the encumbrance of a number of princelings,--and was the better for it; austria had been compelled to grant self-government to its hungarian subjects; why, then, should poland despair of recovering its independence? it was poland's greatest misfortune that her best sons were always divided in opinion; many of them, moreover, thought that poland's cause should command the sacrifices of every people. they forgot that their country owed its downfall to itself and that, whereas people might express their sympathy, it cannot be expected that they shall neglect their own business for the sake of other people. some of the leaders expected that the czar would grant them self-government, and alexander might have done so after some time; but others demanded not only independence but that russia should restore the parts which she had owned for so many years that they had become parts of the empire. the czar dared not grant such a request, because it would have produced a revolution in russia, besides a war with austria and prussia, since those powers owned part of poland. he was, however, willing to grant important concessions and did so. in february , an insurrection broke out, and russian troops were dispatched to subdue it. the russians acted with great cruelty, so that england, france, and austria protested on the th of june. russia, knowing that prussia would come to her assistance paid no attention, and in , russian poland became a part of russia. the russian language (p.  ) displaced the polish, and poland is no longer even a name; it is a memory and a warning,--nothing more. quite different was alexander's treatment of finland. in , he convoked the diet of that grand dukedom, where nobility and people appreciated the degree of liberty which they enjoyed. the government did not interfere with the national language or religion, but took measures that neither should spread in russia. alexander's concessions raised the expectation of a constitution among those who knew what the word implies, including the students at the universities. these institutions were closed. the provincial zemstvos exceeded their authority. that of tver demanded the convocation of the three estates; that at toula discussed a national assembly. was it alexander or his court and ministers who bore the responsibility for the suppressive means that were employed? it may be that the attempts upon his life, by karakozof in , and by the pole berezofski at paris in , embittered him. but his kindly feeling and love for his people, taken in conjunction with a later event, warrant the belief that he was ignorant. xxv--great events during alexander's reign. (p.  ) nihilism. prussia's behavior during the polish insurrection brought her into a close friendship with russia. the result was seen when austria and prussia, in , invaded the german provinces of denmark, when russia prevented intervention, and denmark lost the two provinces by the treaty of vienna, october , . soon after prussia and austria quarreled about the spoils. the countries of south germany supported austria. war began on june , , and little over two months later, on august , , it ended by the peace of prague, which gave to prussia hanover, schleswig-holstein, hesse, nassau, and the city of frankfort. prussia did not annex wurtemburg in compliment to the czar, who was related to its king by marriage. if russia looked carelessly upon prussia's growth, not so napoleon iii of france. he saw in it a threat, and to offset prussia's increase of power, tried to secure other territory. it was evident that nothing but a pretext was needed to bring on war. it was found, and napoleon declared war on july , . once again it was alexander who protected prussia on the east, by threatening austria which would gladly have seized the opportunity to avenge . as a consequence france (p.  ) had to fight the whole of germany; and russia seized the opportunity for repudiating the treaty of paris of , which forbade the construction of arsenals on the coast of the black sea and did not permit any war vessels in it. none of the powers felt any inclination to fight russia single-handed, but prussia proposed a conference, which was held at london. the result was that russia was left free in the black sea, but the sultan has the right to close the dardanelles to warships. on january , , the king of prussia became german emperor, and in the following year the emperor of russia, the emperor of austria, and the german emperor met at vienna, with the result that an alliance was concluded among the three powers. in russia resolved to dispose of its possessions on the western hemisphere by selling alaska, a territory covering , square miles, to the united states. in the same year a slavophil congress was held at moscow with the czar's approval. the object was said to be to unite all the nations of slav origin by a bond of friendship; but the real purpose was to bring them under the rule of the czar. this was apparent when it was resolved to send emissaries among the slavs under turkish rule. they met with encouragement in montenegro, bulgaria, bosnia, and herzegovina. general ignatieff, the russian ambassador at constantinople, thought that this might be the means to bring about the longed-for annexation of the old czargrad. he worked upon the turkish subjects belonging to the greek church, but showed his hand when, under his decision, the bulgarians were released from the (p.  ) authority of the patriarch of constantinople. in , the bulgarian christians rose against the turkish tax-farmers. the revolt was fanned by the russian emissaries, and it spread to servia and montenegro. ignatieff did not think that the time was ripe and interfered; but he threatened the sultan with european intervention and abdul aziz granted the insurgents the privileges enjoyed by the christians in turkey. austria looked with apprehension upon the increasing influence of russia in turkey, and suggested drastic reforms in a note addressed to the powers on december , . it was approved and presented to the sultan by the five great european powers. abdul aziz quietly accepted it. this was not what the russian slavophils expected, and they incited the servians to revolt. a religious insurrection followed which was put down by the turks with such cruelty that it aroused universal indignation in europe, especially in russia. in constantinople the turks were indignant at the sultan's evident fear of ignatieff. the situation became so alarming that great britain assembled a fleet in besika bay. the triple alliance, russia, austria and prussia, demanded of the sultan an armistice and the execution of reforms under foreign supervision. the situation changed by a revolution in turkey on may , , when abdul aziz was assassinated and succeeded by his nephew murad v. russia felt that war was inevitable and approached austria with proposals to take joint action. the reply was that austria could not permit the creation of a slav state on the frontier and that, if any changes were made in the balkans, austria must receive compensation. this was (p.  ) admitted by russia. a number of russian officers took service in servia, among them general chernaiev, who had gained distinction in central asia. montenegro declared war against turkey on july , . on the st of august, of the same year, sultan murad v was deposed, and his half-brother became sultan as abdul hamid ii. meanwhile the turks were victorious, and on september, , the servians asked for an armistice. the reports of turkish atrocities aroused great indignation in great britain; its government was forced to join the other great powers in a note to the sultan demanding reforms. abdul hamid made vague promises but when the servians, trusting to intervention, again took up arms, they were badly defeated and a great number of russian officers were killed. the czar was forced to interfere. on october , he demanded an armistice of six weeks, to which abdul hamid replied that he would make it six months. this was declined because it would keep the servians too long in suspense, and the war continued. in the beginning of november chernaiev admitted that the slav cause was lost unless foreign help came. alexander was really concerned in seeking a peaceable solution, but his high officers were equally earnest in preventing it. ignatieff, at constantinople, was especially active with every means at his disposal. alexander suggested a european conference but before it assembled he declared publicly at moscow (nov. ), that, anxious as he was to avoid the shedding of russian blood, he would act alone (p.  ) to support his brethren in race and religion unless the conference brought relief. the representatives of the powers met at constantinople on the th of december, . the sultan, a man of rare ability and cunning, knew that turkey's disintegration was discussed in its own capital. he did not object, but made one of the reform party his grand vizier, and astonished the world by proclaiming a constitution on december . the conference concluded its deliberations, and presented its conclusions to the sultan who agreed to submit them to the national assembly, which was to meet in march, . abdul hamid was wise. he made the first legislature turkey ever had,--and he had firmly resolved that it should also be the last,--responsible for whatever might happen. the session was brief, but long enough to refuse the conditions imposed by the powers. alexander demanded that the sultan make peace with montenegro which was declined. on the th of april the czar declared war. england protested against russia's independent action, but , men crossed the turkish frontier. the principal incident was the siege and fall of plevna (july --dec. , ), under osman pasha. the surrender of this brave turk alarmed england, which, however, did not grant turkey's appeal for intervention. it was at the battle of senova, jan. , , when he captured , prisoners and krupp guns, that skobelef won fame. on january , constantinople was at the czar's mercy. but this awoke england. on february , the british fleet passed (p.  ) through the dardanelles without obtaining the sultan's consent, and thereby ruined russia's schemes. in vain did its government complain of the violation of the treaty of paris; before the czar could make good his threat that he would occupy constantinople,--the object of the russian's most fervid hope,--a fleet of british ironclads prevented its consummation. peace negotiations were opened at san stefano, when russia imposed exaggerated demands which the cunning sultan hastened to grant, convinced that the other powers would prevent their execution. he was right. great britain, austria, and turkey entered into an alliance. england sent for indian troops to occupy malta, and called out the reserves. the war had cost russia $ , , and , men, and she was not in a condition to fight the three powers. thus, for the second time, czargrad slipped out of russia's clutches, and each time she owed the disappointment to great britain. the balkan question was settled at the congress at berlin which opened on june , , and finished its sessions a month later. turkey ceded to russia a part of bessarabia, and in asia, kars, ardahan, and batoum. this ending of the war, so different from what was expected by the slavophils, caused great dissatisfaction in russia, and the czar dissolved all slavophil committees. this gained him the dislike of the high officers and of the tchinovnik. the absurd and dangerous doctrine of nihilism, that is, the destruction of everything that constitutes society, penetrated into russia by way of germany. at first it was nothing but a theory, fascinating for (p.  ) young and inexperienced people such as students of the universities who, unless properly guided, are apt to adopt any idea that appeals to the generous sentiments of youth. in , an exile named bakunin escaped from siberia, and made his way to london where he secured employment on the _kolokol_ or "bell," a revolutionary paper published in russia which was smuggled over the frontier and scattered broadcast in the czar's domains. under bakunin's influence this paper became hostile to society, and preached nihilism. in , a congress of nihilists was held at basel, switzerland; bakunin proposed to create an international committee of active workers. soon unmistakable signs of trouble appeared in russia, but the government was on the alert and took strong means of suppression. nicholas i, the man with the iron will, had sent an average number of , persons annually to siberia; this number under alexander the liberator increased to from , to , . bakunin urged his followers to "go among the people," and a host of young persons, male and female, many of them belonging to the wealthy classes, adopted the life of the moujik in the villages. but the russian peasant possesses a degree of cunning which shows his dormant intelligence, and suspected the motives of those who said they wanted to benefit him, and this, added to his real affection for the czar, rendered the attempt of the nihilists a failure. the russian peasant dreads a change in his condition, because experience has taught him that it will end to his disadvantage. in there were still , , peasants who preferred serfdom. the turkish war, when the government was occupied elsewhere, (p.  ) afforded an opportunity which was not neglected by the nihilists. on a july night of the year , fifteen young men met in the forest near litepsk, and formed a conspiracy against all existing institutions. two papers, _the popular will_ and _the black partition_ advised assassination as the means to gain their object. we may judge of conditions in russia from knowing that many good and wealthy people made contributions, well aware that arrest and punishment would follow if the secret police should hear of it. in october, , nihilists were arrested, and were convicted at the trial. in february, , general trepof, governor of st. petersburg was openly accused in the papers of gross cruelty toward a prisoner, and vera zazulich, a young woman, sought to kill him. she was arrested, tried,--and acquitted, much to the disgust of the authorities who made every effort to re-arrest her. then began a reign of terror. officials were condemned to death by an "executive committee," composed of members whose names were unknown. the police did not know whom to suspect, and therefore suspected everybody, and no one was safe. often the condemned officer was warned of his doom by letter or paper, but the messenger could not be found. in april, the president of the kief university was dangerously wounded, and a police officer was stabbed in public. in august, general mezensof, chief of the dreaded secret police, was killed, and when the government abolished trial by jury in favor of a military court, it seemed as if the public took the part of the terrorists. these men grew bolder. on the d of february, (p.  ) , prince krapotkine, the governor of kharkof, was shot, and his death sentence was found posted in many cities. on the following th of march, colonel knoop of the odessa police, was killed, and as a climax, on the th of april a school-teacher named solovief fired a pistol at the czar. not satisfied with assassination, the terrorists resorted to incendiarism at moscow, nishni novgorod, and other cities, and there were riots at rostof. in april, , the government proclaimed martial law, and the most renowned generals, melikof, gourko, todleben, and others were appointed governors with unlimited authority. at st. petersburg the _dvorniks_ or house janitors were directed to spy upon the residents and to report their movements to the secret police. executions, imprisonment, and exile multiplied until it seemed as if the government wished to terrify the terrorists. still the situation went from bad to worse. on december , , as the imperial train was entering moscow, it was wrecked by a mine. alexander escaped because he had traveled in an earlier section. three days later the "executive committee" issued a proclamation excusing the attempt and announcing that the czar had been condemned to death. on february , , an explosion of dynamite in the guard room of the winter palace, just beneath the imperial dining-room, killed and maimed a large number of soldiers, but the imperial family escaped by a hair's breadth, as the czar had not entered the room. on the th of the same month louis melikof was placed in charge of the city of st. petersburg, and eight days later there was an attempt upon his life. there was a panic in the capital, when a nihilist proclamation (p.  ) announced that these attempts would cease, provided the czar would renounce his autocracy and "leave the task of establishing social reforms to an assembly representing the entire russian people." whatever may have been his motive, melikof urged the czar to try what conciliation would effect. upon his advice, a large number of exiles in siberia were pardoned, and persons imprisoned for political offenses were released. about , students expelled from the universities were readmitted, and in several cases the death sentence pronounced against nihilists was commuted. only two men out of the sixteen convicted of the attempt to blow up the winter palace, were executed. the effect of this new policy was so satisfactory, that on the th of august, , the czar revoked the ukase of february , and melikof was appointed as minister of the interior. he advised the czar to grant a constitution, and in february , placed before alexander a plan to effect this important change gradually. it was discussed in the council of state. the majority approved, but a bitter opposition was manifested by the other members. the czar himself was in favor of it, but the persons with whom he came into daily contact caused him to hesitate. he told melikof that he would give his final decision on march . on that day he had not made up his mind, but on the th, he ordered that melikof's scheme should become a law, and that it be published in the official gazette. that afternoon, as he was returning from his usual drive, and his carriage was passing between the catherine canal and michael's garden, a bomb was thrown under his carriage and (p.  ) exploded, killing or wounding a number of the guard, but alexander was unhurt. he was hurrying to assist the wounded, when another bomb exploded near him and he was dreadfully mangled. he regained consciousness for a moment while his attendants were bearing him to the palace, but died at . p.m., without having spoken a word. a man named rissakof, said to be a nihilist, was arrested for throwing the bomb; but there were ugly rumors that the assassination was committed under the direction of parties interested in maintaining an autocratic government at all risks. owing to the secret proceedings in russian courts, the murder of alexander the liberator still remains a mystery. [illustration: alexander iii] (p.  ) xxvi--alexander iii, the peasants' friend. (p.  ) the atrocious death of the liberator gave the throne to his son, who succeeded as alexander iii. the new czar was thirty-six years old. nicholas, the eldest son of alexander ii, had died of consumption in , and, since he had been the heir, his younger brother had not received any special training. his principal tutor had been pobiédonostzeff, a man who believed in autocracy. he had imbued his pupil with a deeply religious feeling, and imparted to him a thorough knowledge of russia's history. alexander iii was of powerful build and possessed unusual strength. he was loyal to his word, and tenacious in his likes and dislikes. married to princess dagmar of denmark, he was a model husband and father. his education made him a firm believer in autocracy. the sudden and tragic death of his father moved him so deeply that he gave orders that the last wishes of the late czar should be respected. "change nothing in my father's orders;" he said to melikof; "they are his last will and testament." he issued two proclamations; in the first he announced that he would strengthen the bond with poland and finland, and thus gained the support of the slavophils; and in the second, he reminded the peasants of the freedom given to them by (p.  ) his father, and ordered them to swear allegiance to himself and his heir. six men and a woman implicated in the murder of the late czar were arrested, tried, condemned to death, and, with the exception of the woman, they were executed on april . the czar appointed his former tutor as procurator of the holy synod. pobiédonostzeff persuaded his pupil that this was not the time to make concessions. on the th of may, , alexander issued a proclamation in which he declared his intention to maintain the absolute power. melikof resigned as minister of the interior and was replaced by ignatieff, the former russian minister at constantinople. shortly after his succession to the throne, alexander made a journey to moscow, and was everywhere received with unmistakable tokens of loyalty and affection. this confirmed his opinion that the great bulk of the population was satisfied with the form of government, and strengthened his determination to defend it. in , an anti-semitic movement was felt in germany; that is, an outburst of hatred for the jews broke out, which spread to russia. it is not generally known that of all the jews in the world, four fifths live in russia in the southwest, in an area of , square miles. this is sometimes mentioned as the jewish territory. few of these people engage in agriculture; they are sometimes mechanics, but more often peddlers, storekeepers, bankers and moneylenders. the principal objection to them was that they succeed where others fail. in may, , there were anti-jewish riots at kief and other places. pobiédonostzeff's motto was, "one russia, one religion, one czar;" (p.  ) prompted by him, alexander did not take any energetic measures to suppress the disorder, for he, too, disliked to see in russia a people differing in religion, language, and outward appearance. ignatieff began a system of persecution by removing the jews who had profited by the late czar's permission to settle anywhere, and when the act which recalled the middle ages was hotly condemned by the foreign press, even the slavophils said that ignatieff had gone too far. the persecution died out until , when the jews were deprived of their civil rights, and an attempt was made to compel them to enter the greek church. but the jew is steadfast under persecution, and the only result was that some of them heartily joined the nihilists. the public condemnation which followed these acts, induced ignatieff to advise the czar to adopt melikof's scheme of a constitution. alexander did not understand this change of views and when de giers was appointed minister of foreign affairs, ignatieff resigned. he was succeeded by d. tolstoï. misunderstandings and the clashing of interests were dissolving the triple alliance of russia, austria, and germany. this was apparent in the balkan states which had been formed after the last russo-turkish war. charles i, king of roumania, was a german prince who mistrusted russia's schemes. in march, , prince milan obrenovitch of servia assumed the title of king, and the czar offered no objection. the ruler of bulgaria was alexander of battenberg who was a relative of the czar and had served in the russian army, which may have been the reason of his appointment. the russian minister at his court was (p.  ) evidently of the opinion that his word, as representative of the czar, was law, and when he found out that his orders were set at naught, he withdrew from his post, whereupon the russian officers serving in the bulgarian army, were dismissed. this gave grave offense at st. petersburg, but the affair was arranged, and the russian minister returned. in september, , there was a revolution in sofia, the capital of eastern roumelia, when the crown was offered to alexander of battenberg, who accepted. he hastened to inform the czar, who was too angry to pay any attention to letters or telegrams. bulgaria and eastern roumelia, although united under one prince, sent deputations to st. petersburg to appease the czar, but were informed that their future would be decided by the great powers. soon after servia declared war against bulgaria; after a few unimportant skirmishes, they were driven back by prince alexander, who would have captured the capital belgrad, if he had not been stopped by austria's intervention. alexander, after another fruitless attempt to mollify the czar, applied to the sultan, who appointed him as governor-general over eastern roumelia for five years. the czar protested and invited the powers to a conference which was held at constantinople on april , . to the infinite disgust of the czar, the dispute was decided in favor of prince alexander. russia, however, had a pro-russian party in bulgaria. on august , , prince alexander was kidnaped and carried across the danube, after being compelled to abdicate. at lemberg, in austrian territory he was set free. the bulgarians rallied under the president of the (p.  ) national assembly and forced the pro-russians to flee, after which prince alexander returned on the d of september. once more he made an attempt to pacify the czar, but when his telegram remained unanswered, he abdicated three days later, rather than involve the country in a war with russia. he left on the same day, to the sorrow of the people. the czar was angry. he knew that austria would not have dared oppose him unless assured of the support of germany. the feeling in russia grew more bitter when the election in bulgaria showed a total defeat of the pro-russian party, and the crown was offered to prince waldemar of denmark, who declined at the instance of the czar. the bulgarians then made an offer to prince ferdinand of saxe-coburg, who accepted, and in august made his formal entry in tirnova. alexander once more protested to the powers, but it passed unheeded and he urged the sultan to expel ferdinand. abdul hamid declined with thanks, preferring to have as neighbor a small independent country to russia. alexander then demanded payment of the war indemnity due since the treaty of san stefano, but could obtain nothing except a profusion of excuses and apologies. soon after the sultan had trouble in armenia, which was russia's latest resort to arouse public opinion against the turk. this is the age of colossal enterprises and combinations in every direction, in politics as well as in other branches of human activity. in russia slavophilism, gave way to panslavism, that is, the scheme to unite all slav nations. germany was quick to respond with pan (p.  ) germanism, that is, to bring all german-speaking nations under one scepter. the czar, obeying this impulse, made every effort to convert the baltic provinces,--which germany called the german provinces,--into slavs by making the russian language the only language that was taught in the schools; and germany retaliated in the polish provinces. under these circumstances friendship ceased. russia established a protective tariff, which was a rude blow to germany's commerce; and that country replied by refusing to loan russia any more money. the czar's government applied to france which responded with unexpected generosity. from that time russia's internal improvements have been made with french capital. prudent as he was, alexander allowed his anger and dislike to master him, when prince alexander of battenberg was accepted as suitor to a daughter of queen victoria. troops were hurried from the caucasus into poland, but germany averted war by having the match broken off. when the present german emperor, william ii, succeeded to the throne, he attempted to make friends with the czar by dismissing prince bismarck, in , but alexander could neither forgive nor forget. it was chiefly owing to this that russia and france drew closer together until it ended in an alliance. strong, self-willed, and masterful, alexander did love his people in his own way. in january, , he ordered the poll-tax to be abolished, and thereby relieved the peasants of a heavy burden; he also compelled the landowners to sell to their former serfs the land cultivated by them. since the price was payable in installments (p.  ) and the owners needed the money, the government assumed the position of creditor, but alexander reduced the total indebtedness by , , rubles, and granted , , rubles for the relief of overburdened villages. he calculated that the land would be paid for in , when the title will be vested in the mir,--unless one of his successors should please to appropriate the past payments for other purposes. in the black earth belt the allotments had been according to the needs of the population, but the increase among the people rendered them too small and several severe famines followed. the government tried to induce the surplus population to emigrate to siberia, but the russian peasant lacks education and has been held in tutelage so long that he is not fit for the life of a pioneer settler. transportation facilities increased by the aid of french capital, and added to the prosperity of merchants and speculators, but did not help the moujik who did not know how to profit by them. alexander, as autocrat of all the russias, did not suffer any authority but his own. the zemstvos, volosts, and mirs, were all placed under officials appointed by him. every shadow of self-government was destroyed. this demanded a reorganization of the army, which was increased by , men. the reserves were called out once a year, and drilled as in actual war. strategic railways were built for the speedy transportation of troops. coast defenses were constructed and the navy was increased. in , batoum was closed as a port and converted into a naval base, and when england protested, claiming that this was in violation of the treaty of berlin,--as (p.  ) it was,--russia, referring to the changes in the balkan, inquired if the duty of observing the treaties was reserved exclusively for russia. alexander's reign was especially discouraging for the poles who still hoped for the revival of their country. poles were made into russians; but panslavism demanded that the german should be banished. in , alexander ordered that, when a foreign landowner in poland died, his estate must be sold unless his heirs had been residents of poland before this order was published. germany, suffering from pan-germanism, collected several thousand russian poles who had settled in germany, and put them across the frontier. russia replied by making a law in the baltic provinces that nothing but russian could be taught in any school, and that no more lutheran churches could be built without the permission of the holy synod. then came finland's turn. in , russian money, russian stamps, and worse than that, russian taxes were introduced. there were loud protests, which received courteous answers, but the process continued. in , the finnish committee at st. petersburg, which had directed the affairs of finland, was abolished, and russian censorship abolished the free press. the russian language was made obligatory, and the finns who could afford it emigrated to the united states and settled in the northwest. in , alexander ordered the construction of the trans-siberian railway, of which more will be said in the chapter on asiatic russia. all these years alexander had battled with nihilism and (p.  ) revolution. his policy neither gave nor asked for quarter. in may, , an army officer named timovief made an attempt upon the czar's life. on october th of the same year, as he was traveling in southern russia an accident occurred in which twenty-one were killed and many injured; it was ascribed to nihilists, but may have been caused by defects. be that as it may, alexander never recovered from the shock. in march, , another plot against his life was discovered. in november, , the secret police came on the scent of a conspiracy at moscow, and in april, , they learned of one at st. petersburg. in constant fear of assassination, alexander resided at gatschina, twenty-five miles south of st. petersburg, as in an armed fortress. the never-ceasing tension wore out the strong man. he caught cold and suffering from inflammation of the kidneys he went south, but experienced no relief. he died on the st of november, . in his private life he was essentially a good man; as czar, he acted according to his convictions. he gave much thought to the welfare of the peasants and as such deserved the surname of the peasants' friend. [illustration: nicholas ii] (p.  ) xxvii--russia under the present czar. (p.  ) nicholas ii. "neglect nothing that can make my son truly a man!" this was the instruction given by alexander to the tutors of his son. consequently, nicholas in his youth was allowed to indulge in manly exercises and sports, while special tutors taught him mathematics, natural philosophy, history, political economy, english, french, and german, besides his native language. destined for the throne, he began his military career at the age of thirteen as hetman of the cossacks, and passed successively through the different grades. in , at the age of twenty-one, he was appointed president of a committee to prepare plans for the trans-siberian railway, and the following year he made a tour in the far east, visiting china and japan. in the last-named country he was attacked and wounded by a police officer who had been brooding over the wrongs which his country had suffered at the hands of russia. nicholas recovered and proceeded to vladivostok, where he initiated the building of the great continental line. he returned to st. petersburg by way of siberia and moscow, and was the first czar who had ever visited his asiatic empire. born on may , , he was twenty-six years old when he was (p.  ) called to the throne. he announced that he would "promote the progress and peaceful glory of our beloved russia, and the happiness of all our faithful subjects." on the th of november, , the czar married princess alice of hesse-darmstadt, the granddaughter of queen victoria, who, on entering the greek church, received the name of alexandra feodorofna. the czar retained his father's ministers, except that prince khilkof, who had learned practical railroading in the united states, was appointed minister of public works. pobiédonostzeff continued as procurator of the holy synod. nicholas showed greater leniency toward poland and finland than his father had done. he revoked several of his father's ukases and seemed to be willing to treat them fairly. finland's forests are a source of great prosperity and the russian officials have long been anxious to secure a share. when the secretary of state for finland resigned, general kuropatkin became minister of war, and he wished to introduce russia's military system. general bobrikof, a brusque and haughty man, was appointed governor-general with instructions to proceed with the conversion of the finns into slavs. he convoked an extraordinary session of the diet, january , , and submitted kuropatkin's scheme, with a strong hint that it must pass. the diet ignored the hint and rejected the scheme, whereupon bobrikof ignored the diet and published it as a law to go into effect in . an imperial ukase of february , , reorganized the diet according to a plan drawn up by pobiédonostzeff. bobrikof increased the rigor of the press censorship, but the finns remained within the law. a petition was (p.  ) circulated which in ten days secured , signatures, and a delegation was sent to st. petersburg to present it. the delegation was not admitted. in january, , the czar received a deputation of all classes of his subjects who hinted that the zemstvos might be used as the germ of a constitutional government. he replied that he believed in autocracy and that he intended to maintain it as his predecessors had done. on the th of may, , he was crowned at moscow with more than usual splendor, and in the same year he and the czarina made a tour through europe. after visiting the german emperor and queen victoria, they went to paris where the czar, after reviewing , soldiers declared that the empire and the republic were united in indissoluble friendship. the visit was returned by the president of the french republic, m. faure, in august, . on this occasion the world received notice that an alliance existed between the two powers, and that, if one of them was attacked by more than one power, the other would assist with the whole of its military and naval strength, and peace could be concluded only in concert between the allies. two great reforms are noticeable under the present reign. the sale of spirits has greatly decreased since the government took the monopoly of the manufacture and sale of liquor. the french loans made the establishment of the gold standard possible and speculation in russian paper money ceased. the completion of the trans-siberian railway aroused great expectation for the future of russia's commerce. the war with japan has (p.  ) prevented the possibility of estimating the effect it will have upon oceanic trade. but russia's manufactures have had a wonderful increase; its effect is shown in the population of the cities. in , russia contained only six cities with a population of over , ; their number was doubled in . warsaw, the old capital of poland, had , inhabitants in ; in , they had increased to , . lotz, also in poland, rose from , to , . this cannot fail to exert a powerful influence upon the future of the empire; first, on account of the creation of a middle class which, even at this early day, numbers nine per cent of the population; and next, because the mechanics and factory hands are recruited from among the peasants, who thus are brought into daily contact with more intelligent people, and acquire new ideas and new necessities. the official class is bitterly opposed to this new departure, because it foreshadows the day when the drag upon russia will be cast off. nicholas seems to have reversed his father's policy in the balkan states. he also acted in concert with europe in , when trouble arose between turkey and greece. it began in crete, where turk and christian could not agree. stories of massacres infuriated the greeks and the king had to choose between a revolution and a declaration of war. in april, , an army of , men under prince george crossed into thessaly, but was driven back by a turkish army of , men. prince george had invaded crete in february, but the powers compelled him to evacuate the island. the czar interceded with the sultan, and the absurd war was ended. the slavophils, after their failure in the balkan provinces had (p.  ) excited the armenians in the provinces near the russian caucasus. they attacked the kurds, a nomadic tribe of mussulmans, when the turks took the side of their co-religionists and treated the armenians with no soft hand. the panslavists demanded autonomy for armenia, but this did not suit prince lobanof, who had succeeded de giers as minister of foreign affairs, because he feared trouble in the caucasus. in , russia, france, and england, presented a note to the sultan, suggesting the appointment of a high commissioner, the abolition of torture, and reforms in taxation. turkey agreed, but shakir pasha, the high commissioner, failed to restore order and the disorder threatened to become a revolt. even in constantinople a condition of anarchy prevailed. the atrocities committed by the turks aroused indignation everywhere, when the armenians seized the ottoman bank, but the conspirators were forced to flee from the building and to seek refuge on an english yacht. the turks were furious and killed more than , armenians. again the powers remonstrated; but at this time it began to dawn upon the public that the armenians were a least quite as much to blame as the turks, and the interest subsided. russia had discovered that the armenians are undesirable citizens, and sent back some , of them who had settled in the russian caucasus. germany, intent upon securing concessions from turkey, left the sultan a free hand; meanwhile the british public was engrossed by the boer war, and the armenians, seeing that they were left to their own devices, subsided. the civilized world was startled when, on august , , russia (p.  ) issued a note to the powers, declaring that "military and naval budgets attack public prosperity at its very source, and divert national energies from useful aims," and suggesting a conference to discuss the subject of displacing war by an international court. the note received generous applause, especially in the united states and great britain, the two foremost nations devoted to the arts of peace. the several governments agreed to participate in the proposed conference. the place selected was the hague, the capital of the netherlands, where the sessions opened on may , . of all the great powers, the united states was the only one unreservedly in favor of an arrangement whereby war would be prevented. most of the other powers looked upon an international court as visionary, and so far as the ostensible purpose is concerned, the conference was a failure. still, it bore fruit in defining and adding strength to international law. among its most important results is the clause that "when a conflict seems imminent, one or several powers shall have the right to offer mediation, and its exercise shall not be regarded as an unfriendly act." a permanent court of arbitration was established at the hague. it is composed of judges selected from a list on which every country is represented. on the th of july, the delegates of sixteen nations signed the protocol embodying the conclusions; it was afterwards signed by sixteen more. it remained, however, with the united states, to give vitality to an institution which was looked upon with ill favor by many governments. although the reign of terror from the nihilists has passed, (p.  ) political murder is still rampant in russia, and recent events in the far east have caused a renewal of the agitation for reforms. in , the governor-general of finland was assassinated, and soon afterwards, the hated and dreaded minister of the interior de plehve shared that fate. his successor seems to be anxious to grant greater liberties to the people. the united action of the zemstvos, and the final issue of the war in the far east, may have important results. nicholas ii, amid all his perplexities, was made glad by the birth of a son and heir, who received the name of alexis. [illustration: map] (p.  ) xxviii--the origin and growth of the asiatic empire. (p.  ) a close study of the history of asiatic russia reveals the fact that, until within a comparatively recent date, the russian government had no fixed policy in or toward asia. there was a national instinct which impelled russia eastward. twice had europe been invaded by asiatic hordes, and, owing to its position, russia was doomed to bear the brunt of the onset. russia's history points out a ceaseless desire to be a european nation, to share with europe its progress and its burdens. it is within a few years that the heir to the throne first visited the extensive asiatic dominions. no czar had ever put foot in them. until the reign of nicholas i ( - ), the russian empire spread eastward much as the united states expanded westward, by individual effort. the movement began in , when ivan the terrible granted to gregory strogonof ninety-two miles of waste land on the banks of the kama. the new owner explored the mineral resources of the urals, crossed the mountains, and found himself in the kingdom of sibir. strogonof had become acquainted with one yermak or irmak, a cossack and captain of a robber band known as the good companions of the don. he had been (p.  ) condemned to death, if the government could lay hands on him, which, on account of the sparsity of the population, was exceedingly doubtful. strogonof discussed with him a raid into sibir, and the cossack consented, provided his pardon could be secured. strogonof went to moscow and submitted his scheme to ivan who gave his approval. upon his return to the urals, strogonof found that he had men, russians, cossacks, tartars, and german and polish prisoners of war, all hardy adventurers. they marched east terrifying the natives with their firelocks, and levying tribute, that is, taking whatever was worth the trouble. they defeated the khan, and took his capital, sibir, on the irtish. yermak then visited moscow, where he was the hero of the day. had he not struck at the very heart of the mysterious continent whence so much trouble and disgrace had come upon russia? and had he not exacted tribute from the very people who not very long ago held russia under tribute. yermak was therefore praised and entertained and graciously told to go ahead, ivan had neither men nor money to spare, but he was quite willing that these adventurers should despoil the asiatics, instead of holding up russian travelers and traders. ivan gave him a suit of armor as a token of good will. after yermak's return to siberia, he was surprised by the natives and drowned by the weight of his armor as he was trying to escape by swimming the irtish. ( .) other cossacks had heard of his success and followed his example. in , tobolsk was founded on the irtish, ten miles below sibir. there was little or no communication between siberia and moscow, (p.  ) owing to the distance separating them, and the successors of ivan had ample trouble on their hands. it was, therefore, left to the cossacks to make such explorations and conquests as they could. in , tomsk was founded. farther and farther did the cossacks advance among the isolated tribes. in , a log fort was built where yakoutsk now stands, and six years later they gazed upon the broad waters of the pacific and planted the czar's flag on the shore of the sea of okhotsk. it was a congenial occupation for the cossack, to roam where he pleased and to take what suited his fancy, and he did not lack either the skill or the courage needed by the explorer. in , a party of cossacks under max perfirief, discovered the upper amoor, and heard tales of such vast wealth that they hastened to yakoutsk and placed their discovery before peter petrovitch, the first russian governor. men and money were scarce, but the governor, after many efforts managed to collect men whom he placed in command of vassili poyarkof, with instructions to do the best he could. the party started on the th of july, , and followed the usual course with the natives with the result that he returned to yakoutsk in june , having lost most of his men in attacks by infuriated and outraged natives, but in possession of a fund of information, and some skins as tribute. during the reign of alexis michaelovitch ( - ), explorations of the amoor regions were pursued vigorously. a young officer of considerable wealth, named khabarof, offered to conduct an (p.  ) expedition at his own expense. this was gladly accepted, and he left yakoutsk in . he reached the amoor and formed a line of forts, and met a small party among whom was the khan, who asked what his object was. khabarof replied that he had come to trade, but that the czar would probably take the khan under his powerful protection in return for a small annual tribute. the khan did not answer, and khabarof after burning most of the forts and leaving some of his men in another, returned to yakoutsk to report. in june, , he was on the way back to the amoor, where he came in conflict with the manchus. he, however, forced his way, and gained for the russians the reputation that they were "devils, who would make gridirons of the parents to roast the children on." at this time a report that the amoor region contained untold wealth reached moscow, where it produced an effect very similar to that felt in spain after the return of columbus. alexis intended to send an expedition of , men to occupy and hold this treasure grove, but he was prudent enough to dispatch an officer to order khabarof to moscow, so that he might learn the facts. this officer, simovief left moscow in march, , and met khabarof in august of the following year. leaving the command to his lieutenant stepanof, khabarof obeyed the czar's call. he arrived at moscow and after the czar had heard his report, the expedition was given up, but alexis wrote to stepanof, upon whom he conferred some honors, and told him to continue the good work. the interest manifested by the czar inaugurated an exploration (p.  ) fever among the russian authorities. pashkof, the governor of yeniseisk started on the th of july, , for the amoor at the head of cossacks; in , he built a fort which was the beginning of nerchinsk. it was before he returned to yeniseisk. unfortunately the russians came into a clash with the manchus, at that time in full vigor; they had made themselves masters of china, and their emperor, kang-hi, was an exceptionably able and strong man. he did not want war, but on the other hand he did not intend to suffer an injustice. when the government at moscow became aware that further encroachment would entail a war with china an ambassador, feodor golovin, was dispatched to come to an understanding. he left moscow on january , , but took his time. kang-hi had been notified, and ambassadors were sent from peking to meet golovin. the russian met the chinese at nerchinsk on the d august, , and on the th the terms of a treaty were agreed upon. two days later the treaty was exchanged. russia was compelled to withdraw from the amoor. after this no changes in the boundary line occurred until after the year . in , kamtschatka was annexed to russia, and two years later the first prisoners were sent to siberia. they were prisoners of war and natives of conquered european provinces who objected to muscovite rule. about , persons were sent the first year, but many died from the hardships suffered on the road. besides siberia, russia in asia consists of: i. the caucasus. it was peter the great who, in , invaded (p.  ) dagestan and seized the greater part of this territory. we have seen how the mountaineers defended their liberty under schamyl,[ ] and it was left to his son alexander to annex it and make it part of the russian empire. including trans caucasia, it covers an area of , square miles,--or about that of colorado and utah, and contains a population of , , . [footnote : see p. ] ii. the kirghiz steppe. this is a country of plains, unfit for agriculture and still inhabited by nomads who live in tents and wander with their flocks over the , square miles of territory. they are divided into three hordes or families, one of which surrendered to anne ivanovna in . in the kirghiz, together with the cossacks of the don, revolted, but in the autumn of , order was restored. for administrative purposes, it is divided into: iii. transcaspia, which, as the name indicates, includes the region east of the caspian sea. it contains an area of , square miles with a population estimated at , . like the kirghiz steppe, it is unfit for agriculture, although it contains several oases. it was formed into a province by alexander iii. in . iv. turkestan contains , square miles with a population of , , . the valleys of the oxus and jaxartes are very fertile, but the rest of the extensive province is almost a desert. the oxus or amu daria once formed the boundary of the empires of cyrus and alexander. it was conquered step by step, and after many struggles with the (p.  ) turkomans and kirghiz to whom it originally belonged. v. the khanates, so called because they once formed the territory of the khans of khiva and bokhara. this province embraces , square miles with a population of , , . both are recent acquisitions. it was the war with khiva, in , which first drew the attention of europe to russia's expansion in central asia. there had been some doubts as to the wisdom of permitting russia to add more territory to her already enormous domain, but they had been allayed by a circular note to the powers, issued by prince gortchakof, the minister of foreign affairs, on november , . he declared that russia had been brought into contact with a number of half-savage tribes who proved a constant menace to the security of the empire, and that the only means of maintaining order on the frontier, was to bring them under submission. this, he said, had been done by the united states, and was nothing but a measure necessary for self-defense. this reasoning was self-evident, but in the press of great britain asked when and where this necessity would cease. count schouvalof was sent to london and in several interviews with lord granville, he stated distinctly and plainly that russia had no intention to annex any more territory in central asia. he declared[ ] solemnly with regard to khiva that "not only was it far from the intention of the emperor to take possession of khiva, but positive orders had been prepared to prevent it, and directions given that (p.  ) the conditions imposed should be such as would not in any way lead to the prolonged occupation of khiva." [footnote : parliamentary papers, central asia. .] notwithstanding this positive declaration, khiva was annexed on the th of june, . four months afterwards, on the th of october, a treaty was signed by the khan of bokhara, giving to russia free navigation on the oxus, and other privileges. it has never been formally annexed, but is to all intents and purposes russian territory. xxix--russian methods. the war with japan. (p.  ) at the time when the united states and the commercial powers of europe were discussing the opening of japan, russia resolved, if possible, to forestall them. in , the czar appointed a young general, nicholas muravieff, as governor of eastern siberia. shortly after entering upon his office he sent an officer named vagarof, who had explored the amoor river, back to it with four cossacks to make an extensive report. the party left strelka in the spring of , but was never heard of again. suspecting that they had been captured by the chinese, a demand was made for their surrender on the plea that they were deserters, but the chinese replied that they knew nothing of them. meanwhile muravieff had ordered the exploration of the shore of the sea of okhotsk and the mouth of the amoor. these orders were promptly executed, and in lieutenant orloff entered the river from the sea. the following year captain nevilskoï, who had come out in the _baikal_, sent a boat up the river and laid the foundations of nikolayefsk and mariinsk, thereby securing a foothold on the lower amoor, knowing all the time that this was chinese territory, and that russia was at peace with china. the survey of the sea of okhotsk (p.  ) was not neglected. port imperial on the coast of manchuria was discovered and occupied, and urup, one of the kurile islands, was seized. when commodore perry arrived off the coast of japan, he was watched by admiral poutiatine in command of the _pallas_, _vostok_, _olivutzu_ and _menzikoff_. aniwa bay was seized the same year, and russians landed on the west coast of what is known as saghalien, but was known and owned by the japanese under the name of karafuto. [illustration: village scene] the crimean war gave muravieff a pretext to violate farther the treaty with china. he claimed that the settlements on the pacific, as well as the russian ships, were in need of supplies, and that the ocean route was closed by the allied fleets. was it muravieff's duty to furnish those supplies? in that case, any reference to the ocean route was preposterous, because it is absurd to suppose that supplies would be sent from eastern siberia to the north pacific coast by such a route; and if he had furnished them before by the overland route through siberia, why, that road was open to him. what he needed was a pretext to secure the occupation of japan, or at least of some of its islands, before the other powers could know of it; and for that purpose, it was necessary to be in possession of the lower amoor. perry's energetic action thwarted him; but he could not know that. what he did know was that china was not in a condition to oppose him, and that the other powers need not know what he was doing. he determined to send an expedition strong enough to insure respect, and lost no time in preparing it. fifty barges, a steamer, and (p.  ) numerous rafts, a thousand cossacks with cannon, the whole commanded by muravieff himself, left shilkinsk on the th of may, . following the usual custom, the expedition was accompanied by scientific men to survey the river, prepare maps, explore the country, and examine its resources. at ten a.m., june , they arrived at aigun where muravieff was received by the chinese authorities, who displayed about the same number of armed men, but such men and such arms! firelocks dating from the time of kang-hi-- ,--convinced muravieff that fifty cossacks could put these braves to rout. not caring to arouse chinese hostility for fear that his schemes might attract attention, muravieff did not resent it when the chinese forbade him to enter the town; he continued on his journey, and on the th of june arrived at mariinsk. after sending part of his force to nikolayefsk, he went on to port imperial where he met admiral poutiatine. they discussed the situation, and poutiatine left for japan on the _diana_. muravieff hurried back as he had come, and prepared another expedition which he took down the river in . in that year he sent three thousand cossacks, and five hundred colonists down the amoor, together with horses, cattle, provisions, and military stores. this activity could not escape the chinese who dispatched four officials to nikolayefsk to protest against the invasion of their territory. they arrived in july, and were entertained by muravieff with a review of his forces; after this hint he simply dismissed them. at this time the settlements which stood in such urgent need of supplies, were (p.  ) mariinsk, which consisted of two log cabins, nikolayefsk numbered ten, and castries bay had "four badly built huts."[ ] [footnote : ravenstein, russians on the amoor.] in a remarkably short time we hear of the indefatigable muravieff at st. petersburg urging the annexation of the amoor. he was opposed by the czar's ministers, but succeeded in convincing the emperor that china could offer no resistance, and that the powers need not hear of it until it was too late. thus he secured large supplies of men and money. in the beginning of , he was back at his post, and on the st of june he dispatched colonel ushakof with six hundred men from shilkinsk, and soon after followed him with a brigade of cossack infantry and a regiment of cavalry, to garrison the forts which he constructed at strategic points. seizing the opportunity of china's distress caused by the war with england and france, muravieff demanded the cession of the amoor valley. the chinese were helpless. on the th of may, , a treaty was signed at aigun, giving to russia the left bank of the amoor down to the ussuri, and both banks below that confluent, besides the right to navigate the sungari and ussuri rivers. russia gave absolutely nothing in return. meanwhile count poutiatine had been sent from st. petersburg to watch the allies and to profit by any blunder which they or the chinese might make. poutiatine stopped in japan, claiming that the koreans had given him the privilege of establishing a coaling station at port hamilton, but knowing that great britain would certainly investigate his claim, he did not press it. he tried to seize the japanese island tsushima in the southern entrance to the (p.  ) japan sea, and midway between japan and korea; but a polite and firm invitation from the british admiral to leave that island, and the admiral's insistence to remain until after he had left it, spoiled that little game. poutiatine then proceeded to china where he proposed to help put down the tai p'ing rebellion in return for the cession of manchuria to russia. this handsome offer was politely declined. once again muravieff hurried to st. petersburg; upon his advice the newly acquired territory was officially annexed, and, by ukase of october , joined to the littoral of the sea of okhotsk and kamtschatka under the name of maritime province of eastern siberia, with nikolayevsk as capital. muravieff remained in supreme command. the tireless empire builder was again on the pacific coast in . on may , he founded blagovestchensk and, after descending the river, laid the foundation of khabarofka, at the mouth of the ussuri. in october he was back at kiakhta, arranging for the postal service between st. petersburg and the extreme east. on the th of august, he was created count amoorsky, or count of the amoor, a promotion which he had well earned. on the st of december, a remarkable ukase was published, beginning "now that russia has regained possession of this valuable region, etc." the entire territory of eastern siberia contained , square miles, a territory equal to that of all the atlantic coast states, together with indiana, ohio, west virginia, kentucky, tennessee, alabama, and mississippi. this did not include the amoor province, which was placed under the administration of (p.  ) a governor and eighteen officials, who received a combined annual salary of $ , . , of which the governor received $ . muravieff was back at his post in . both he and poutiatine tried to induce the japanese to give up karafuto (saghalien), but without success. at this time there was again trouble between china and the allied british and french, and when in , a british-french force marched on peking, russia had sent another empire builder, general ignatieff, to watch if he could not secure something. he did; when the allies entered peking, ignatieff sought prince kung and told him that the "foreign devils" would surely seize the country unless some strong power compelled them to leave. russia was willing to do this, because she had always been fond of china; and all she asked was a strip of outlying territory of no value to china. prince kung gladly signed away the whole east coast of manchuria, six hundred miles long; and ignatieff redeemed his promise by visiting lord elgin and baron gros, the british and french plenipotentiaries. after paying them some flattering compliments, he made the remark that the peiho river would freeze in a few days, and if they did not get out at once, they would have to stay all winter in peking. the two gentlemen finished their business in a hurry, packed up, and left, but not without thanking ignatieff for his kindness and reporting the matter to their government, which did not hear of the russian's diplomacy until a year later. this is how russia extended her empire on the pacific coast. for many years the efforts to secure the whole island of karafuto (p.  ) continued and japan saw that war must follow unless a sacrifice was made. in , japan surrendered the island, in return for the kurile group, but the japanese treasured in their hearts the loss and disgrace. it was this which caused the assault upon the present czar, when he was traveling in japan. in the war between japan and china broke out, and when china, humbled, sued for peace, japan demanded the cession of the liaotung peninsula,--where port arthur is located,--besides making other conditions. when this became known, russia, after securing the help of germany and france, gave japan the "friendly advice," which was really a threat, not to take that peninsula. japan, single-handed, could not fight the three powers, and gave way; but every japanese, high or low, young or old, was determined to pay off russia. they bought or built war vessels everywhere and increased their army. russia did not like this, and proposed that japan should take all the islands in the pacific, the philippines, hawaii, borneo, etc., and leave the continent of asia to russia. japan declined, and went on building ships. in the end of , russia announced that she had "leased" the very liaotung peninsula which she had prevented japan from taking. japan understood, as the whole world did, that this "lease" meant possession. the japanese statesmen did not protest, because there was but one protest that russia would heed,--an appeal to arms. that was japan's method when, in , alexander pavloff, the russian minister in korea, secured from that government a concession in the port of masampo, opening into the entrance to the japan sea. japan's (p.  ) demand was: let masampo go, or it means war. and russia evacuated masampo, while pavloff was told that he might take a furlough. then came , the boxer troubles and the international march upon peking. japanese officers took note of the russian troops, leaving the russians to do the same with their soldiers. japan never ceased her preparations. in the latter part of , marquis ito hirobumi visited the united states and crossed over to england, where he proposed an offensive-defensive alliance. british statesmen hesitated, when ito told them in plain terms that if no such treaty was concluded, he was authorized to go on to russia, and make the best terms he could for his country. meanwhile pavloff had returned to seoul, the capital of korea, and by means best known to russian diplomats, was trying to gain a foothold on the peninsula. under the pretext of a timber concession, the russians constructed a fort on the korean side of the yalu river,--where it was afterwards discovered by newspaper correspondents. russia had secured control of manchuria with its , square miles and , , population, and none of the powers dared protest. japan was ready. could she allow the "peaceful" absorption of korea, as that of manchuria had been accomplished? safe in the offensive-defensive alliance with great britain, japan approached russia in a dignified manner, to be put off with vague replies. after six months of patience, japan broke off diplomatic intercourse, and, as this is considered equal to a declaration of war, she struck and hit hard. [illustration: st. petersburg] (p.  ) xxx--russia loses her prestige. (p.  ) when, in february, , the world was startled by the japanese guns in the harbor of chemulpo (korea), one of russia's well-known diplomats, speaking in defense of his country, said: "ours has been a peaceful absorption." another statesman, pleading for sympathy, remarked pathetically: "we were unprepared for war." the two advocates of russia's cause spoke the truth, but they did not proclaim the whole truth. ever since muravieff amoorsky began the peaceful absorption of manchuria by seizing the coastline of that province, russia has extended her dominions using no other weapon than her prestige, that is, the dread inspired by her name, power, and resources. repeated protests from great britain remained unheeded, because the czar's government was convinced that they would not be emphasized by a resort to arms. the semi-civilized tribes of central asia were unable, of course, to oppose the russian advance; and china was justly afraid of defying the great northern power. thus the peaceful absorption continued with such ease that the russian tchinovnik ended in believing in their country's prestige. herein lies the principal cause of the astounding history of the war with japan. although russia repeatedly agreed to evacuate manchuria, her (p.  ) actions in the construction of railways and other roads, the opening of mines, the enormous capital expended in creating a commercial emporium in dalny, and her jealousy in excluding foreigners from that territory,--all this was ample evidence that nothing short of compulsion would cause her to withdraw. besides, alexander pavloff, the russian minister in korea, was anxious to emulate count cassini, his former chief at peking. he was constantly plotting to secure a foothold in the peninsula. in , it was announced that a russian company had obtained a timber concession on the yalu river. a few months afterwards, some american newspaper correspondents with the japanese army discovered the ruins of a russian fort on that river, securely screened from indiscreet eyes, but in a fine position to control the passage. that was the timber concession. russia's policy, therefore, was a serious menace to japan. but japan did not purpose to draw ridicule by unavailing protests. feverishly the preparations for more emphatic action were continued; in the latter part of , japan was ready. safe from a possible european intervention by her treaty with great britain, japan reminded russia of her promise to evacuate manchuria on october , and requested an explanation for not keeping the pledge. russia, with a blind faith in her prestige, replied that the affair did not concern japan but china, whereupon japan made a proposition concerning manchuria and korea which would be acceptable. with studied contempt replies from the czar were held back beyond the time permitted by international courtesy. (p.  ) moreover their tenor was not only unsatisfactory, but was also calculated to exasperate the proud japanese. when the final preparations were made, japan instructed her minister to st. petersburg, to demand his passports,--an act equivalent to a declaration of war. the tchinovnik doubted their senses. russia maintained that a severance of diplomatic relations did not necessarily imply an appeal to the sword, when the news flashed over the wires that the russian war vessels varyag and koreyetz had been blown up at chemulpo to escape being captured. the world was still marveling at japan's audacity when it was informed that three other russian war vessels had been disabled owing to a night torpedo attack under admiral togo. why was the russian fleet, numerically superior to that of japan, divided? the answer is found in that fatal word: prestige. pavloff in korea had requested the presence of the two doomed ships, to keep the japanese in awe. admiral stark lay under the guns of impregnable port arthur, trusting to the prestige, when the illusion vanished. there was still the vladivostok squadron; it made an effort to induce togo to leave port arthur by making a raid upon the north coast of japan, but in vain. beyond sinking a few unarmed merchantmen, nothing of importance was accomplished. the czar's choice to restore russia's naval prestige, fell upon admiral makaroff. at about the same time, general kuropatkin, the former minister of war, was charged with punishing japan for her insolence. his departure for the far east was theatrical. after many genuflexions before sacred eikons, he promised to restore russia's (p.  ) prestige by dictating terms of peace in tokyo. makaroff was less enthusiastic, and perhaps more in earnest. it is asserted that he restored discipline in a sadly demoralized fleet. he was enticed out of port arthur's shelter by a small fleet of the enemy's cruisers sent out as a decoy. when he discovered togo's ironclads he returned to port, but his flagship struck a mine at the entrance to port arthur and sunk. the admiral, as well as his guest, the noted battle painter verestchagin, perished. with togo blockading port arthur and admiral kaminura guarding vladivostok, the japanese secured the freedom of the sea, and began to pour troops into korea. this was greeted with acclamation by the tchinovnik who, after their naval misfortunes, claimed that the situation would soon be reversed by the army. some japanese soldiers were landed openly at chemulpo, but the bulk went ashore in a well-concealed harbor south of the yalu river. general kuroki was in command. meanwhile kuropatkin was in manchuria busy organizing the army when not obstructed by viceroy alexieff. such troops as he found were capable of rendering good service in hunting down chinese brigands, but, as the sequel proved, the army had also been nurtured upon that most indigestible material, prestige. to the wonder of europe,--and to a less degree of america,--kuroki crossed the yalu and sent the czar's dreaded soldiers flying before him. (may , .) once more, and for the last time, did the russian fleet at port (p.  ) arthur attempt a sortie. it failed, and its fate was sealed. while the wreckage of russia's once proud fleet lay concealed in port arthur's inner basin, the japanese, after scouring the waters to clear them from mines, landed troops on the liaotung peninsula, claimed by japan after the war with china, but despoiled of it by russia's peaceful absorption. in , port arthur was taken in a day from the chinese: the russians defended the impregnable fortress for six months. "our prestige demands that the enemy shall not capture port arthur," cried the tchinovnik, and kuropatkin was ordered to general stoessel's rescue. the attempt failed, and general nogi could pursue the siege without being disturbed. (june - , .) a stolid, ignorant, and densely superstitious people was at war with a rejuvenated nation keenly alive to the power of education. that is the secret. man for man, russia would have won. but the resourcefulness of the little brown man more than offset the russian's physical superiority. as the year dawned, the fall of port arthur was made known to the world. slowly, but heralded by the marvels it would accomplish, the baltic fleet under rojestvensky sailed to madagascar, welcome to whatever aid the french ally could bestow. japan said nothing, but made a note of it. she cleaned and scraped her sea-worn, battle-scarred vessels, under the supervision of grim, silent togo. oyama, the japanese commander-in-chief, reënforced by the veterans of kuroki and nogi, was playing with kuropatkin until he had the game in his hand. after (p.  ) ten days of hard fighting, the discomfited russians made a masterly retreat to the sha river, after evacuating mukden, the cradle of the present chinese dynasty, (august -september , .) kuropatkin deserved credit for the manner in which he extricated the remains of the czar's army. oyama did not feel safe in following up the pursuit. his game was that of a skillful chess player. first make sure of the result with mathematical precision, then strike. the japanese were deaf to the demand for brilliant dashes. after the battle of liao-yang, the armies seemed idle so far as news from the front went. oyama attacked his former antagonist on the shakhe river and drove the discomfited russians beyond tie pass. general kuropatkin was superseded by his former subordinate liniévitch who, however, accomplished nothing to warrant his promotion. meanwhile the baltic fleet left the hospitable shores of madagascar, proclaiming its search for togo, together with the determination to punish the impertinent japanese. in the latter part of may, , admiral rojestvensky made a dash for vladivostok through the tsu channel, the southern entrance to the sea of japan. togo intercepted him, and a battle followed which, in its results, stands unique in the history of naval warfare. at a cost of three torpedo boats, killed, and wounded, the japanese sank russian battleships, coast defense vessel, special service boats, and destroyers, besides capturing battleships, coast defense vessels, and destroyer, the losses in killed were , and over , prisoners, among them (p.  ) admirals rojestvensky and nebogatoff, were taken to japan. as a result of this one-sided battle, russia's naval power is broken. (may - , .) while president theodore roosevelt seized this opportunity to approach the belligerents in favor of peace, pointing out the hopelessness of continuing the struggle to russia and appealing to japan's magnanimity, the world was startled by the revolt of the kniaz potemkin, a first-class battleship of the black sea squadron. the mutineers found no support, and what might have proved a serious danger to the house of romanoff, ended by the ship being sunk in roumanian waters. she was recovered by the russians. president roosevelt's efforts toward bringing the two powers together, proved successful. washington was agreed upon as the place for the negotiations, but the plenipotentiaries, sergius witte and baron de rosen acting for russia, met baron komura and minister takahira, who represented japan, at portsmouth, n. h., where the united states acted as host. the incompatibility of japan's demands and russia's concessions on several occasions brought the plenipotentiaries on the verge of rupture. with the single-mindedness born of an unselfish purpose, president roosevelt exerted all the personal influence he could bring to bear upon czar and emperor with the result that the victor gave the world an astounding lesson in magnanimity. japan made peace possible by withdrawing her demands for indemnity and the cession of territory beyond that of which russia had robbed her,--the southern half of the island of sakhalin, which will be once more karafuto for the (p.  ) japanese. the terms of the treaty of peace were agreed upon at portsmouth on the th of august . the war had lasted from the th of february, , or days. russia paid in men , , in money $ , , , ,--all for peaceful absorption and support of prestige. cassini's shrewd move, ten years before, in robbing japan of the liaotung peninsula and port arthur, has ended in japan's obtaining possession of that key to peking, with the promise of holding it beyond the possibility of recapture, until china recovers its manhood. the treaty of peace was signed september , at portsmouth, n. h. what will be the effect of the war upon the russian people? while the plenipotentiaries were discussing the terms of peace, autocracy launched a ukase calling for a consultative assembly. russian thinkers, however, reflect that, so long as autocracy exists and the tchinovnik admit no other authority but that of the czar, another ukase may revoke the doubtful boon. no one knows what the morrow will bring, either to us or to the slav. yet it seems absurd to suppose that, after the lessons of corruption and incompetence of the present government, the educated russians will remain quiescent while the great empire continues on its downward course. mediævalism has come into contact with the spirit of the twentieth century, and has been found wanting. it seems as if the dawn of a new era for russia is at hand. index. (p.  ) a abdul aziz, . abdul hamid, . alexander i, the well-beloved, . alexander ii, the liberator, . alexander iii, the peasants' friend, . alexander of battenberg, . alexander nevski, , . alexis michaelovitch, . alexis, son of peter the great, . andrew bogolioubski, . anne ivanovna, czarina, . area of russia, . armenians, . askold, . b baskak, tartar tax collector, . bati, khan of the golden horde, . battle of the oka, . boundaries of russia, . boyard, noble, . byzantium, former name of constantinople. c catherine i, wife of peter the great, , , . catherine ii, the great, . caucasus, the . chouïski, andrew, . chouïski, czar, . christianity, , . climate of russia, . constantine, . council of florence, attempt to unite the roman and greek churches, . crimea the, annexed, . crimean war, . cyril, . czar, king, . czargrad, city of the king. czarina, wife of the czar. d dagh bog the sun god, . diak, secretary, . dir, . dmitri donskoï, . dnieper, . donskoï, of the don, surname of dmitri, . douma, council of nobles, . drujina, body-guard, . düna, . dvor, inclosure, . dwina, . e eikon, image of a saint, , . elizabeth, queen of england, . elizabeth, czarina, . f feodor (theodore), son of ivan the terrible, . feodor alexievitch, . finland, . finns, . frederick the great, . g galitch, southwest russia, . gedimin, . genghis khan, . george dolgorouki, . george, grand duke of moscow, . godounof, boris, czar, . gosti, guest, russian for merchant, . goubernii, government or province, . greece, independence of, . greek church, . gustavus wasa, . h hetman, chief of cossacks. i iarlikh, patent or written authorisation from the khan, . iaropolk, . iaroslaf ii, . igor, son of rurik, , . iouri, george, . isiaslaf, . ivan kalita, . ivan ii, . ivan iii, the great, . ivan iv, the terrible, . ivan alexievitch, . ivan ivanovitch, . j jagellon, . jews, persecution of the, . k kalita, alms-bag, . kazan, . khanates, the, . kholop, slave, . kief, . kirghiz steppe, . kniaz, duke, defender, prince, , . kosciusko, thaddeus, . kostroma, . kublaï khan, . krestianine, true christian, surname given to the peasants during the tartar yoke. l leo the deacon, historian, , . m mangou, grandson of genghis khan, . mazeppa, , . methodius, . metropolitan, head of the greek church, . michael, grand duke of tver, . michael, first czar of the present dynasty, . mindvog, . minine, kouzma, a russian patriot, . mir, communal village, . moscow, burning of, . moujik, lit. manikin, contemptuous word for peasant, . mstislaf the bold, . mstislaf the brave, . murad v, . muravieff amoorsky, . n namiestnik, ducal delegate, . napoleon i, . napoleon iii, , . nicholas i, . nicholas ii, . nicon, reformer, . nihilism, . nestor, russian historian, , . novgorod, republic of, , . o oktaï, khan, . olga, . olgerd, . oleg, , . olmutz, battle of, . oulogenia, code of laws under ivan iii., . p pan-germanism, . pan-slavism, . paul i, . peace congress, . peipus, lake, battle on the ice, . perun, god of thunder, . peter the great, . peter ii, . peter iii, . philarete, metropolitan, father of the first romanof, . plemia, confederacy of tribes, . poland, partition of, . poliessa, forest region, . poniatowski, stanislas, . portsmouth, peace treaty at, . possadnik, burgomaster or commandant, . prestige, russia loses her, . pskof, republic of, . pultowa, battle of, . r raskol, plur. raskolnik, religious madmen, opponents to nicon's reforms, . roman, duke of volhynia, . romanof, anastasia, wife of ivan the terrible, . romanof, michael, elected czar, . rurik, . russkaïa pravda, russian right, . ryndis, young nobles, . s st. petersburg founded, . saraï, capital of the golden horde, . schamyl, . scythians, . simeon, first grand duke of all the russias, . sineous, . slavophil, friend of slavs, . slavs, . smerd, boor, lout. sophia, autocrat of all the russias, . starost, elder or mayor, . streltsi, national guard, . stri bog, god of the winds, . sviatopolk, , . sviatoslaf, , . t tamerlane, . tartars or tatars, . tartartchina, tartar yoke, . tcherné. black people, name applied to the people by the nobles, . tchélobitié, beating of the forehead, i. e., petition, . tchin, plur. tchinovnik, lit. gentlemen, now officials, . tilsit, meeting at, . transcaspia, . treaty of berlin, . treaty of paris, . truvor, . turkestan, . turks, , . turkey, war with, . tysatski, commandant of the militia, . u ukase, imperial edict equal to law ural mountains, . uzbeck, khan, . v valdai plateau, . varingians, norsemen, . vassili the blind, . vetché, municipal council, . vitovt, . vladimir monomachus, . vladimir, saint, . voievod, governor of a fortress, . volga, . voloss, god of the flocks, . volost, county or canton, . vsevolod, . z zemstvo, assembly, . zimisces, john, . transcriber's note: inconsistent spelling has been preserved, especially in the finnish and swedish snippets found throughout the book. only obvious errors have been corrected, and a listing of those can be found at the end of this e-text. through finland in carts [illustration: mrs. alec tweedie.] through finland in carts by mrs. alec tweedie author of "mexico as i saw it," etc. [illustration] thomas nelson & sons london, edinburgh, dublin and new york to my husband alec to my dearest friend sir john eric erichsen, bart., f.r.s., ll.d. to my father dr. george harley, f.r.s., f.r.c.p. all of whom died suddenly within a space of five months i dedicate these pages in grateful remembrance of their loving interest in my work contents chap. page i. our first peep at finland ii. a finnish country-house iii. finnish baths iv. a night in a monastery v. sordavala, or a musical festival vi. "kalevala," an epic poem vii. manners and customs viii. imatra's roaring cataract ix. "kokko" fires x. women and education xi. a haunted castle xii. punkaharju xiii. the life of a tree xiv. through savolax in carts xv. on we jog xvi. a "torp" and "torppari" wedding xvii. tar-boats xviii. descending the rapids xix. salmon--uleÅborg xx. a fashionable watering-place appendix. questions of nationality and politics preface when i was first approached by messrs. nelson and sons for permission to publish _through finland in carts_ in their shilling series, i felt surprised. so many books and papers have jostled one another along my path since my first journey to finland, i had almost forgotten the volume. turning to an old notebook, i see it was published in at sixteen shillings. it appeared in a second edition. the demand still continued, so a third edition, entirely revised and reprinted, was published at a cheaper rate. others followed, and it now appears on the market at the reduced price of one shilling. cheapness generally means deterioration of goods, but cheapness in books spells popularity. since the last revise appeared, a few years ago, i had not opened the pages of this volume; and strange though it may seem, i took it up to correct with almost as much novelty as if it had been a new book by some one else. an author lives with his work. he sees every page, every paragraph, by day and by night. he cannot get away from it, it haunts him; yet once the bark is launched on the waters of fate, other things fill his mind, and in a year or two he forgets which book contains some special reference, or describes some particular thought. this is not imagination but fact. the slate of memory would become too full and confused were such not the case. finland has been progressing, and yet in the main finland remains the same. it is steeped in tradition and romance. there are more trains, more hotels, larger towns; but that bright little land is still bravely fighting her own battles, still forging ahead; small, contented, well educated, self-reliant, and full of hopes for the future. finland has home rule under russia, and her parliament was the first to admit women members. for those interested in the political position of finland, an appendix, which has been brought up to date in every way possible, will be found at the end of this volume. e. alec tweedie. london, _easter _. through finland in carts chapter i our first peep at finland it is worth the journey to finland to enjoy a bath; then and not till then does one know what it is to be _really_ clean. finland is famous for its baths and its beauties; its sky effects and its waterways; its quaint customs and its poetry; its people and their pluck. finland will repay a visit. foreign travel fills the mind even if it empties the pocket. amusement is absolutely essential for a healthy mind. finland, or, as the natives call it in finnish, _suomi_, is a country of lakes and islands. it is a vast continent about which strangers until lately hardly knew anything, beyond such rude facts as are learnt at school, viz., that "finland is surrounded by the gulfs of finland and bothnia on the south and west, and bordered by russia and lapland on the east and north," and yet finland is larger than our own england, scotland, ireland, aye, and the netherlands, all put together. when we first thought of going to _suomi_, we naturally tried to procure a finnish guide-book and map; but no guide-book was to be obtained in all london, except one small pamphlet about a dozen pages long; while at our best-known map shop the only thing we could find was an enormous cardboard chart costing thirty shillings. no one ever dreamed of going to finland. nevertheless, finland is not the home of barbarians, as some folk then imagined; neither do polar bears walk continually about the streets, nor reindeer pull sledges in summer--items that have several times been suggested to the writer. nothing daunted by want of information, however, we packed up our traps and started. we were three women, my sister, frau von lilly--a born finlander--and the writer of the following pages. that was the beginning of the party, but it increased in numbers as we went along--a young man here, a young girl there, an old man, or an old woman, joined us at different times, and, alas, left us again. having made charming friends in that far-away land, and picked their brains for information as diligently as the epicure does the back of a grouse for succulent morsels, we finally--my sister and i--jogged home again alone. this looks bad in print! the reader will say, "oh, how disagreeable they must have been, those two, that every one should have deserted them!" but this would be a mistake, for we flatter ourselves that we really are rather nice, and only "adverse circumstances" deprived us of our friends one by one. love and friendship are the finest assets in the bank of life. grave trouble had fallen at my door. life had been a happy bounteous chain; the links had snapped suddenly and unexpectedly, and solace and substance could only be found in work. 'tis often harder to live than to die. immediate and constant work lay before me. the cuckoo's note trilled forth in england, that sad, sad note that seemed to haunt me and speed me on life's way. no sooner had i landed in _suomi_ than the cuckoos came to greet me. the same sad tone had followed me across the ocean to remind me hourly of all the trouble i had gone through. the cuckoo would not let me rest or forget; he sang a song of sympathy and encouragement. it was on a brilliant sunny morning early in june that the trim little ship _urania_ steamed between the many islands round the coast to enter, after four and a half days' passage from hull, the port of _helsingfors_. how many thousands of posts, growing apparently out of the sea, are to be met with round the shores of finland! millions, we might say; for not only the coast line, which is some eight hundred miles in length, but all the lakes and fjords through which steamers pass are marked out most carefully by wooden stakes, or near the large towns by stony banks and painted signs upon the rocks of the islands. sometimes the channels are so dangerous that the little steamers have to proceed at half-speed, carefully threading their way in and out of the posts, as a drag at hurlingham winds its course between barrels at the four-in-hand competitions. many places, we learnt, are highly dangerous to attempt at night, on account of these stakes, which are put down by government boats in the spring after the ice has gone, and are taken up in november before it forms again, because for about seven months all sea traffic is impossible. sometimes the channels are so narrow and shallow that the screw of the steamer has to be stopped while the vessel glides through between the rocks, the very revolutions of the screw drawing more water than can be allowed in that particular _skär_ of tiny islands and rocks. at other times we have seen the steamer kept off some rocky promontory where it was necessary for her to turn sharply, by the sailors jumping on to the bank and easing her along by the aid of stout poles; or again, in the canals we have known her towed round particular points by the aid of ropes. in fact, the navigation of finland is one continual source of surprise and amazement. finland is still rising out of the sea. rocks that were marked with paint one hundred and fifty years ago at the water's edge, now show that the sea has gone down four or five feet. this is particularly noticeable in the north: where large ships once sailed, a rowing boat hardly finds waterway. seaports have had to be moved. slowly and gradually finland is emerging from the waters, just as slowly and gradually the people are making their voice heard among other nations. few people in great britain realize the beauties of finland. it is flat, but it is fascinating. it is a land of waterways, interspersed with forests. the winter is very cold, the summer very hot; the winter very dark, the summer eternal light. _helsingfors_ is one of the most picturesque harbours in the world. it is not like anywhere else, although it resembles stockholm somewhat. it is so sunny and bright in the summer, so delicious in colourings and reflections, that the primary thought of the intricate watery entrance to the chief capital is one of delight. the first impressions on entering the finnish harbour of _helsingfors_ were very pleasing; there was a certain indefinable charm about the scene as we passed in and out among the thickly-wooded islands, or dived between those strong but almost hidden fortifications of which the russians are so proud. once having passed these impregnable mysteries, we found ourselves in more open water, and before us lay the town with its fine russian church of red brick with rounded dome, the finnish church of white stone, and several other handsome buildings denoting a place of importance and considerable beauty. we were hardly alongside the quay before a dozen finnish officials swarmed on board to examine the luggage, but no one seemed to have to pay anything; a small ticket stuck on the baggage saving all further trouble. swedish, finnish, and russian, the three languages of the country, were being spoken on every side, and actually the names of the streets, with all necessary information, are displayed in these three different forms of speech, though russian is not acknowledged as a language of finland, the two native and official languages being swedish and finnish. only those who have travelled in russia proper can have any idea of the joy this means to a stranger; it is bad enough to be in any land where one cannot speak the language, but it is a hundred times worse to be in a country where one cannot read a word, and yet once over the border of russia the visitor is helpless. vs becomes bs, and such general hieroglyphics prevail that although one sees charming tram-cars everywhere, one cannot form the remotest idea where they are going, so as to verify them on the map--indeed, cannot even tell from the written lettering whether the buildings are churches or museums, or only music halls. finnish is generally written with german lettering, swedish with latin, and the russian in its own queer upside down fashion, so that even in a primitive place like finland every one can understand one or other of the placards, notices, and signs. not being in any particular hurry, we lingered on the steamer's bridge as the clock was striking the hour of noon--finnish time, by the way, being a hundred minutes in advance of english time--and surveyed the strange scene. somehow _helsingfors_ did not look like a northern capital, and it seemed hard to believe, in that brilliant sunshine, that for two or three months during every year the harbour is solidly ice-bound. yet the little carriages, a sort of droschky, savouring of petersburg, and the coachmen (_isvoschtschik_) certainly did not come from any southern or western clime. these small vehicles, which barely hold a couple of occupants and have no back rest, are rather like large perambulators, in front of which sits the driver, whose headgear was then of beaver, like a squashed top hat, very broad at the top, narrowing sharply to a wide curly brim, which curious head-covering, well forced down over his ears, is generally ornamented with a black velvet band, and a buckle, sometimes of silver, stuck right in the front. perhaps, however, the most wonderful part of the _suomi_ jehu's attire was his petticoat. he had a double-breasted blue-cloth coat fastening down the side, which at the waist was pleated on to the upper part in great fat folds more than an inch wide, so that from behind he almost looked like a scheveningen fishwife; while, if he was not fat enough for fashionable requirements, he wore an additional pillow before and behind, and tied a light girdle round his waist to keep his dress in place. all this strange beauty could be admired at a very cheap rate, for passengers are able to drive to any part of the town for fifty _penniä_, equal to fivepence in english money. these coachmen, about eighty inches in girth, fascinated us; they were so fat and so round, so packed in padding that on hot days they went to sleep sitting bolt upright on their box, their inside pillows and outside pleats forming their only and sufficient support. it was a funny sight to see half a dozen _isvoschtschiks_ in a row, the men sound asleep, their arms folded, and their heads resting on their manly chests, in this case cuirassed with a feathery pillow. drawing these finnish carriages, are those strange wooden hoops over the horses' withers so familiar on the russian droschky, but perhaps most extraordinary of all are the strong shafts fixed inside the wheels, while the traces from the collar are secured to the axle itself outside the wheel. that seemed a novelty to our mind any way, and reminded us of the old riddle, "what is the difference between an inside irish car and an outside irish car?" "the former has the wheels outside, the latter has the wheels inside." at the present day much of this picturesqueness has passed away, and coachmen and chauffeurs in western livery and the motor taxi-cab have largely replaced them. queer carts on two wheels were drawn up along the quay to bear the passengers' luggage to its destination, but stop--do not imagine every one rushes and tears about in finland, and that a few minutes sufficed to clear the decks and quay. far from it; we were among a northern people proverbially as dilatory and slow as any southern nation, for in the extreme north as in the extreme south time is _not_ money--nay, more than that, time waits on _every_ man. therefore from the bridge of our steamer we heard much talking in strange tongues, we saw much movement of queerly-dressed folk, but we did not see much expedition, and before we left finland we found that the boasted hour and forty minutes advance on the clock really meant much the same thing as our own time, for about this period was always wasted in preparations, so that in the end england and finland were about quits with the great enemy. three delightful finnish proverbs tell us, "time is always before one," "god did not create hurry," "there is nothing in this world so abundant as time," and, as a nation, finns gratefully accept the fact. every one seemed to be met by friends, showing how rarely strangers visited the land. indeed the arrival of the hull boat, once a week, was one of the great events of _helsingfors_ life, and every one who could went down to see her come in. a delightful lady--a finlander--who had travelled with us, and had told us about her home in boston, where she holds classes for swedish gymnastics, was all excitement when her friends came on board. she travels to _suomi_ every year, spending nearly three weeks _en route_, to enjoy a couple of months' holiday in the summer at her father's parsonage, near _hangö_. that remarkably fine specimen of his race, herr s----, was met by wife, and brother, and a host of students--for he returned from malmö, victorious, with the finnish flag. he, with twenty-three friends, had just been to sweden for a gymnastic competition, in which finland had won great honours, and no wonder, if the rest of the twenty-three were as well-made and well-built as this hardy descendant of a viking race. then again a finnish gentleman had to be transhipped with his family, his horses, his groom, and his dogs, to wait for the next vessel to convey them nearer to his country seat, with its excellent fishing close to imatra. he was said to be one of the wealthiest men in finland, although he really lived in england, and merely returned to his native country in the summer months to catch salmon, trout, or grayling. then--oh yes, we must not forget them--there were the emigrants, nearly sixty in number, returning from america for a holiday, though a few declared they had made enough money and would not require to go back again. there are whole districts of finlanders in the united states, and excellent settlers they make, these hardy children of the north. they had been ill on the voyage, had looked shabby and depressed, but, as they came within sight of their native land, they appeared on deck beaming with smiles, and dressed out wondrous fine, in anticipation of their home-coming. but were they excited? not a bit of it. nothing excites a finn. although he is very patriotic he cannot lightly rise to laughter or descend to tears; his unruffled temperament is, perhaps, one of the chief characteristics of his strange nature. yes, every one seemed met by friends on that hot june day; and we were lucky too, for our kindly cicerone, frau von lilly, who had tempted us to finland, and had acquaintances in every port, was welcomed by her brother and other relations, all of whom were so good to us that we left their land many weeks afterwards with the most grateful recollections of overwhelming hospitality. our welcome to finland was most cordial, and the kindly greetings made us feel at once at home among a strange people, none of whose three languages we could talk; but, as one of them spoke french, another english, and a third german, we found no difficulty in getting along. such servants as knew swedish easily understood the norwegian words we had learnt sufficiently well to enable us to get about during two enjoyable and memorable visits to norway,[a] although strange explanations and translations were vouchsafed us sometimes; as, for instance, when eating some very _stodgy_ bread, a lady remarked, "it is not good, it is unripe dough" (pronounced like cough). we looked amazed, but discovered that she meant that the loaf was not sufficiently baked. as we drove along in the little droschky we passed the market, a delightfully gay scene, where all the butchers wore bright pink blouses or coats, and the women white handkerchiefs over their heads. we bumped over cobble stones and across tram lines, little heeded by the numbers of bicyclists, both men and women, riding about in every direction, for finland was in the forefront in the vogue for bicycle-riding. it was most amusing to notice the cycles stacked in the railway vans of that northern clime, while on the steamers it is nothing extraordinary to see a dozen or more cycles amongst the passengers' luggage. in the matter of steamers, the companies are very generous to the cyclist, for he is not required to take a ticket for his machine, which passes as ordinary baggage. although we supply the finlanders with machines, we might take a lesson from them in the matter of registration. at the back of every saddle in large figures was engraved the number, bought at the time of registration for four marks (three shillings and fourpence), consequently, in case of accident or theft, the bicycle could immediately be identified; a protection alike for the bicyclist and the person to whom through reckless riding an accident is caused. _helsingfors_, although the capital, is not a large town, having only , inhabitants, but there are nearly five thousand registered bicycles plying in its streets. the percentage of riders is enormous, and yet cycling is only possible for about five months every year, the country being covered with snow and ice the rest of the time. here we pass a russian officer, who is busy pedalling along, dressed in his full uniform, with his sword hanging at his side. one might imagine a sword would be in the way on a cycle; but not at all, the finland or russian officer is an adept in the art, and jumps off and on as though a sword were no more hindrance than the spurs which he always wears in his boots. there is a girl student--for the university is open to men and women alike, who have equal advantages in everything, and among the large number who avail themselves of the state's generosity are many cycling dames. the finlander is brave. he rides over roads that would strike terror into our souls, for even in towns the cobble stones are so awful that no one, who has not trudged over finnish streets on a hot summer's day, can have any idea of the roughness. a finlander does not mind the cobbles, for as he says, "they are cheap, and wear better than anything else, and, after all, we never actually live in the towns during summer, so the roads do not affect us; and for the other months of the year they are covered with snow, so that they are buried sometimes a foot or two deep, and then sledges glide happily over them." it is over such stones that the cyclist rides, and the stranger pauses aghast to see him being nearly bumped off his machine--as we have ourselves bumped towards the bottom of a steep hill when coasting--and not apparently minding it in the least, judging by the benign smile playing upon his usually solemn physiognomy. he steers deftly in and out of the larger boulders, and soon shows us that he is a thorough master of his iron steed. all the students of both sexes wear the most charming cap. in shape it closely resembles a yachting cap; the top is made of white velvet, the snout of black leather, and the black velvet band that encircles the head is ornamented in front by a small gold badge emblematic of the university. no one dare don this cap, or at least the badge, until he has passed his matriculation examination. white velvet sounds thriftless; but in finland, in the summer, it is very hot and dry; in fact, the three or four months of summer are really summer in all its glory. it is all daylight and there is no night, so that june, july, and august seem one perpetual midsummer day. for travelling or country rides, the finland student wears a small linen cover over his white velvet cap, which is made to fix on so neatly that the stranger does not at first detect it is a cover at all. in the winter, the white cap is laid aside, and a black velvet one takes its place. among the lower orders the women work like slaves, because they must. women naturally do the washing in every land, and in the finnish waterways there are regular platforms built out into the sea, at such a height that the laundresses can lean over the side and rinse their clothes, while the actual washing is performed at wooden tables, where they scrub linen with brushes made for the purpose. yet it seemed to us strange indeed to see women cleaning the streets; huge broom in hand they marched about and swept the paths, while a whole gang of female labourers were weeding the roadways. women in _suomi_ do many unusual things; but none excited our surprise so much as to see half a dozen of them building a house. they were standing on scaffolding plastering the wall, while others were completing the carpentry work of a door; subsequently we learnt there were no fewer than six hundred women builders and carpenters in finland. the finns, though intellectually most interesting, are not as a rule attractive in person. generally small of stature, thickset, with high cheek-bones, and eyes inherited from their tartar-mongolian ancestors, they cannot be considered good-looking; while the peculiar manner in which the blonde male peasants cut their hair is not becoming to their sunburnt skins, which are generally a brilliant red, especially about the neck where it appears below the light, fluffy, downy locks. fat men are not uncommon; and their fatness is too frequently of a kind to make one shudder, for it resembles dropsy, and is, as a rule, the outcome of liqueur drinking, a very pernicious habit, in which many finlanders indulge to excess. there are men in _suomi_--dozens of them--so fat that no healthy englishman could ever attain to such dimensions; one of them will completely occupy the seat of an _isvoschtschik_, while the amount of adipose tissue round his wrists and cheeks seems absolutely incredible when seen for the first time, and one wonders how any chair or carriage can ever bear such a weight. inordinately fat men are certainly one of the least pleasing peculiarities of these northern nationalities. top hats seemed specially favoured by finnish gentlemen. flannel shirts and top hats are, to an english mind, incongruities; but in _suomi_ fashion smiles approvingly on such an extraordinary combination. at the various towns, therefore, mashers strolled about attired in very bright-coloured flannel shirts, turned down flannel collars, trimmed with little bows of silken cord with tassels to fasten them at the neck, and _orthodox tall hats_. the finnish peasant women are as partial to pink cotton blouses as the russian peasant men are to red flannel shirts, and the bright colours of the bodices, and the pretty white or black handkerchiefs over their heads, with gaily coloured scarves twisted round their throats, add to the charm of the _helsingfors_ market-place, where they sit in rows under queer old cotton umbrellas, the most fashionable shade for which appears to be bright blue. the market is a feature in finland, and in a measure takes the place of shops in other countries. for instance, waggons containing butcher's meat stand in rows, beside numerous carts full of fish, while fruit and flowers, cakes and bread-stuffs in trucks abound. indeed, so fully are these markets supplied, it seems almost unnecessary to have any shops at all. the old market folk all drink coffee, or let us be frank at once and say chicory, for a really good cup of coffee is rare in finland, whereas chicory is grown largely and drunk everywhere, the finlanders believing that the peculiar bitter taste they know and love so well is coffee. pure coffee, brewed from the berry, is a luxury yet to be discovered by them. as we drove along, we noticed at many of the street corners large and sonorous bells made of brass, and furnished with chains to pull them. we wondered what this might mean, and speculated whether the watchman went round and rang forth the hours, doomsday fashion. on asking information we were told-- "they are fire-bells, very loud, which can be heard at some distance." "but does not a strong wind cause them to ring?" "no; they must be pulled and pulled hard; but you had better not try, or you may be fined heavily." so we refrained, and pondered over the fire-bells. it is as necessary to have a passport in finland as in russia. but whereas in russia a passport is demanded at once, almost before one has crossed the threshold of an hotel, one can stay in a finnish town for three days without having to prove one's identity; any longer stay in a hotel or private house often necessitates the passport being sent to the police. it is a most extraordinary thing that a finn should require a passport to take him in or out of russia; such, however, is the case, and if a man in _wiborg_ wishes to go to st. petersburg to shop, see a theatre, or to spend a day with a friend, he must procure a passport for the length of time of his intended visit. this is only a trifle; nevertheless it is a little bit of red-tapism to which the finlander might object. but it may have its advantages, for the passport rigorously keeps anarchists, socialists, jews, and beggars out of _suomi_. until , the press was severely restricted by the censor, though not to the same extent as in russia itself, where hardly a day passes without some paragraph being obliterated from every newspaper. indeed, in st. petersburg an english friend told us that during the six years he had lived there he had a daily paper sent to him from london, and that probably on an average of three days a week, during all that time, it would reach him with all political information about russia stamped out, or a whole page torn away. we ourselves saw eight inches blackened over in _the times_, and about the same length in that day's _kölnische zeitung_ and _independence belge_ totally obliterated in petersburg. we received english papers pretty regularly during our jaunt through finland, and what amazed us most was the fact that, although this black mark absolutely obliterated the contents, no one on receiving the paper could have told that the cover had been tampered with in the least, as it always arrived in its own wrapper, addressed in the handwriting we knew so well. it remained an endless source of amazement to us how the authorities managed to pull the paper out and put it in again without perceptibly ruffling the cover. it is not unknown for a finnish paper, when ready for delivery, to have some objection made to its contents, in which case it must not be distributed; consequently, a notice is issued stating that such and such a paper has been delayed in publication, and the edition will be ready at a later hour in the afternoon. the plain meaning of which is that the whole newspaper has been confiscated, and the entire edition reprinted, the objectionable piece being taken out. _presshinder_ is by no means uncommon. unfortunately "a house divided against itself falleth," which is a serious hindrance to progress. that _suomi_ is divided, every one who has studied finnish politics must know. with its russian rule, its finnish and swedish proclivities, and its three languages, the country has indeed much to fight against. for those who are interested in the subject of its home rule, an appendix will be found at the end of this volume. very important changes have of late taken place in finland. less than half a century ago the whole country--at least the whole educated country--was still swedish at heart and swedish in language. from sweden finland had borrowed its literature and its laws until russia stepped in, when the finn began to assert himself. the ploughman is now educated and raising his voice with no uncertain sound on behalf of his own country and his language, and to-day the greatest party in the parliament are the social-democrats. the national air of finland is _maamme_ or _vårt land_ in swedish ("our land"). the words were written by the famous poet, j. l. runeburg, in swedish, which was at that time the language of the upper classes, and translated into finnish, the music being composed by frederick pacius. in finnish the words are-- maamme oi maamme, suomi, synnyinmaa, soi sana kultainen! ei laaksoa, ei kukkulaa, ei vettä rantaa rakkaampaa, kuin kotimaa tää pohjainen, maa kallis isien. on maamme köyhä, siksi jää jos kultaa kaipaa ken. sen kyllä vieras hylkäjää, mut meille kallein maa on tää kans' salojen ja saarien se meist' on kultainen. ovatpa meistä rakkahat kohinat koskien, ikuisten honkain huminat, täht' yömme, kesät kirkkahat kaikk', kaikki laulain loistaen mi lumes' sydämen. täss' auroin, miekoin, miettehin isämme sotivat, kun päivä piili pilvihin tai loisti onnen paistehin, täss' suomen kansan suurimmat he vaivat kokivat. ken taistelut ne kaikki voi kertoilla kansan tään, kun sota laaksoissamme soi ja halla nälän tuskat toi? sen vert' ei mittaa yksikään ei kärsimystäkään. täss' on se veri vuotanut edestä meidänkin, täss' ilonsa on nauttinut ja tässä huoltain huokaillut se kansa, jolle muinoisin kuormamme pantihin. täss' olla meidän mieluist' on ja kaikki suotuisaa; vaikk' onni mikä tulkohon, meill' isänmaa on verraton. mit' oisi maassa armaampaa, mit' oisi kalliimpaa? ja tässä' täss' on tämä maa, sen näkee silmämme; me kättä voimme ojentaa, ja vettä, rantaa osoittaa, ja sanoa: kas tuoss on se, maa armas isäimme! jos loistoon meitä saatettais vaikk' kultapilvihin, miss' itkien ei huoattais' vaan tähtein riemun sielu sais, ois tähän kurjaan kotihin halumme kwitenkin. totunuden, runon kotimaa, maa tuhatjärvinen, elomme sulta suojan saa, sä toivojen ja muistoin maa, ain' ollos onnen vaihdellen, sä vapaa, riemuinen. sun kukoistukses' kuorestaan kerrankin puhkeaa; viel' lempemme saa nousemaan sun toivos, riemus loistossaan, ja kerran laulus' synnyinmaa, korkeemman kaiun saa. when the _maamme_ is sung every one rises, the men take off their hats, and nearly all those present join in the song, their demeanour being most respectful, for a finn is nothing if not patriotic. another very popular air is the following, written by zachris topelius, whose fairy tales are now being translated into english-- sinun maasi (_finnish_) laps' suomen, älä vaihda pois sun maatas ihanaa! sill' leipä vieraan karvast 'ois ja sana karkeaa. sen taivas, päiv' on loistoton, sen sydän sulle outo on. laps' suomen, älä vaihda pois sun maatas ihanaa! laps' suomen, kaunis sull' on maa ja suuri, loistokas. veet välkkyy, maat sen vihoittaa, sen rant 'on maineikas. yö kirkas, päivä lämpöinen ja taivas tuhattähtinen, laps' suomen, kaunis sull 'on maa ja suuri, loistokas. laps' suomen, armas maasi tää siis muista ainiaan! sull 'onnea ja elämää ej muuall' ollenkaan. jos minne tiesi olkohon, niin juures' synnyinmaassas' on laps' suomen, armas maasi tää siis muista ainiaan! ditt land (_swedish_) o barn af finland, byt ej bort din ädla fosterjord! en främlings bröd är hårdt och torrt, och klanglöst är hans ord. hans sol är blek, hans himmel grå, hans hjerta kan ej ditt förstå. o barn af finland, byt ej bort din ädla fosterjord. o finland's barn, ditt land är godt, ditt land är stort och skönt. dess jord är grön, dess haf är blått, dess strand af ära krönt. dess natt är ljus, dess sol är klar, dess himmel tusen stjernor bar. o finland's barn, ditt land är godt, ditt land är stort och skönt. och derför, barn af finland, minns ditt ädla fosterland! ej ro, ej lif, ej lycka finns i fjerran från dess strand. hvarhelst din väg i verlden går, din rot är der din vagga står. och derför, barn af finland, minns ditt ädla fosterland! thy land[b] (_english_) o child of finland, wherefore fly thy noble fatherland? the stranger's bread is hard and dry, and harsh his speech and hand; his skies are lead, his heart is dead thy heart to understand. o child of finland, wherefore fly thy noble fatherland? o finland's heir, thy land is fair and bright from bound to bound; her seas serene; no gayer green on tree or lea is found. her sun's a blaze of golden rays, her night an eve star-crowned. o finland's heir, no land more rare or nobly fair is found. then, child of finland, ne'er forget thy noble fatherland; for peace of mind is not to find upon a stranger's strand. to that bright earth that gave thee birth thou owest heart and hand. then fealty swear to finland fair, our famous fatherland. we dined at several restaurants in _helsingfors_; for, in the summer, the finlanders live entirely out of doors, and they certainly make the most of the fine weather when they have it. perhaps our brightest dining-place was on the island of _högholmen_, to which little steamers ply continually; but as we arrived at the landing-stage when a vessel had just left, we engaged a boat to row us across. it was a typical finnish boat, pointed at both ends, wide in the middle, and a loving couple sitting side by side rowed us over. they were not young, and they were not beautiful; in fact, they looked so old, so sunburnt, and so wrinkled, that we wondered how many years over a hundred they had completed. but, judging by the way they put their backs into the work, they could not have been as ancient as they appeared. [illustration: our ship in winter.] one of the first words one hears in finland is _straxt_, which means "immediately," and we soon found it was in universal use. no order is complete without the word _straxt_ as an addition, and, naturally, the stranger thinks what a remarkably punctual and generally up-to-time sort of people the finns must be. but the voyager seems born to be disappointed. no finn ever hurried himself for anybody or anything; the word _straxt_ means, at least, a quarter of an hour, and the visitor may consider himself lucky if that quarter of an hour does not drag itself out to thirty minutes. a man asks for his bill. _straxt_ is the reply. he suggests his luggage being fetched downstairs, reminds the landlord that the _kärra_ (little carts) were ordered for noon, now long past. "_straxt, straxt_," is smilingly answered, but the landlord does not move--not he; what is to be gained by being in a hurry? why fidget? an hour hence is quite as good as the present quickly fleeting by. so soothing his conscience by the word _straxt_, he leisurely goes on with his work, and as "like master, like man," those below him do not hurry either, for which reason most things in finland are dominated more by chance than ruled by time. it is annoying, it is often exasperating, but there is a superb calm, or shall we say obstinacy, about the finnish character that absolutely refuses to be bustled, or hurried, or jostled. they are a grave, solid people, who understand a joke even less than the scotch, while such a thing as chaff is absolutely unintelligible to them. life to the finns seems a serious matter which can be only undertaken after long thought and much deliberation. they lose much pleasure by their seriousness. they sing continually, but all their music is sad; they dance sometimes, but the native dances are seldom boisterous as in other lands. they read much and think deeply, for unlike the russians, only per cent. of whom can read, in finland both rich and poor are wonderfully well educated; but they smile seldom, and look upon jokes and fun as contemptible. education is one constant enquiry, and knowledge is but an assimilation of replies. the men and women enjoy great freedom. educated in the same schools, they are brought up to ignore sex; the young folk can go out for a whole day together, walking or snow-shoeing, skating or sledging, and a chaperon is unheard of; yet in all social gatherings, as an antithesis to this, we find an unexpected restraint. at a party the men all congregate in one room, or at one end of the table, leaving the women desolate, while the young of both sexes look askance at one another, and, in the presence of their elders, never exchange a word, in spite of their boasted freedom. society is paradoxical. more than that, by way of discouraging healthy chatter and fun among the young people, the elder folk always monopolise conversation, two persons invariably discussing some particular point, while twenty sit silently round listening--result, that young men and women know little of one another if they only meet in society, and the _bon camaraderie_ supposed to result from the system of mixed education is conspicuous by its absence. everything is against it. the very chairs are placed round a room in such a way that people must perforce sit in a circle--that dreaded circle which strikes terror into the heart of a british hostess. even on the balconies an enormous table, with chairs packed closely round it, is constantly in evidence, so that the circle is even to be found there, with the consequence that every one sits and stares at every one else, except the people who may or may not keep up a conversation. the strange part of the whole arrangement is that finlanders do not understand how prim they really are socially, and talk of their freedom, and their enormous emancipation, as they sit at table, where the greater number of those present never dare venture to say anything, while the young men and women rarely even sit together. they apparently make up for lost time when away from their elders. the people are most hospitable, to strangers particularly so, and certainly the flowers and the books and sweets we were given, to say nothing of invitations received to stay in houses after an hour's acquaintance, to dine or sup, to come here or go there, were quite delightful. they are generous to a remarkable degree, and hospitable beyond praise. this is a northern characteristic like honesty; both of which traits are sadly lacking in the southern peoples. kindness and thoughtfulness touch a warm chord in the heart of a stranger, and make him feel that finland is a delightful country, and her people the staunchest of friends. but, after this divergence, let us return to our first drive. those slouching men in long jack boots, butchers' blouses of white and shapeless form, are russian soldiers. soldiers, indeed! where is the smartness, the upright bearing, the stately tread and general air of cleanliness one expects in a soldier? these men look as if they had just tumbled out of their beds and were still wearing night-shirts; even the officers appeared strange to our english ideas, although medals adorned their breasts and swords hung at their sides even when bicycling. "do you mix much with the russians?" we asked one of our new friends. "hardly at all; they have conquered us, they rule us, they plant whole regiments among us, and they don't even take the trouble to understand us, or to learn our language. no, we keep to ourselves, and they keep to themselves; our temperaments are so different we could never mix." and this is true. the position of alsace-lorraine towards germany is much the same as that of finland towards russia. both have been conquered by a country speaking another language to their own, and of totally foreign temperament to themselves. after forty years the people of alsace-lorraine are as staunchly french as before, and the same applies to the position of the finlanders. life in _helsingfors_ is very pleasant for strangers in the summer; but for the natives it has no attraction. accustomed to a long and ice-bound winter, the moment may comes every family, possessed of any means, flits to the country for three or four months. all the schools close for twelve weeks, and the children, who have worked hard during the long dark winter, thoroughly enjoy their holiday. summer comes suddenly and goes swiftly. the days then are long, as the nights are short, for in the north of finland there is a midnight sun, and even in _helsingfors_, during june, he does not set till about eleven, consequently it remains light all night--that strange weird sort of light that we english folk only know as appertaining to very early morning. as we sat finishing supper about ten o'clock at the kapellet, we were strongly reminded of the light at three a.m. one morning, only a week or two before, when we had bumped to covent garden to see the early market, one of london's least known but most interesting sights, in our friendly green-grocer's van, with mr. and mrs. green-grocer for sole companions. the kapellet is a delightful restaurant in the chief street of _helsingfors_, standing among trees, under which many seats and tables are placed, and where an excellent military band plays during meal times. strange meal times they are too, for, after early coffee and roll, every one breakfasts between ten and twelve on meats with beer or wine, not an egg and fish breakfast such as we have, but a regular solid meal. finlanders in towns dine from two to four, and sit down to supper between eight and ten, so that they have three solid meat meals a day--probably a necessity in such a climate--and drink wines and spirits at each of these functions, which so closely resemble one another that the stranger would have difficulty in knowing which was supper and which was breakfast. in the summer mostly men frequent the kapellet, for their wives and families are away at their villas on the islands. apparently any one can build a villa on any island, and the moment he does so, like robinson crusoe, he is master of the situation. one does not require to pay more than a trifle for the site, and a beautiful wooden house can be erected in about two months for two or three hundred pounds. parents who are well off generally have a nice island and a comfortable house, and when their sons and daughters marry, they build thereon small villas for them; thus whole families, scattered during the greater part of the year, come together every summer. for this reason family life in finland is delightful. there are many thousand islands--millions, one might almost say--and therefore plenty of room for all. finland is like a sponge; the lakes and islands being represented by the holes. we lived in a flat at _helsingfors_. frau von lilly's brothers had a delightful _étage_, with a dear old housekeeper, and thither we went. mina looked after our wants splendidly, and smiled upon us all day as strange sort of beings because we liked so much _hett vatten_ (hot water). she was always opening our door and walking in, for no one ever dreams of knocking in finland; standing before us, her hands folded on her portly form, she smiled and smiled again. _mycket bra_ (very nice), we repeated incessantly to her joy--but still she stayed, whether anxious to attend to our wants or to have a look at englishwomen and their occupations we know not; one thing, however, is certain, that without a word in common we became fast friends. her beautifully polished floors made us afraid to walk across them, and the large rooms, broad beds, and lots of towels came as a real treat after nearly five days at sea. every one lives in flats in the towns, there are only a few private houses, and therefore long stone flights of stairs lead to the "appartement" as they do in germany, while the rooms, with their enormous stoves and endless doors, remind one continually of _das vaterland_. from our flat, which stood high, we had a most glorious view. immediately in front was the students' club, while beyond were the parliament houses, charming churches, the fine park given to the town by henrik borgström, the lovely harbour, the fortifications, and the deep, dark sea. as the sun set we revelled in the glories visible from our balcony, and thoroughly enjoyed the charms of the northern night. midnight suns must be seen to be understood, the gorgeous lights are enthralling. our souls were steeped in that great silence. it is during such nights as these that vegetation springs into existence. a day is like a fortnight under that endless sky of light. hence the almost tropical vegetation that so amazed us at times in this ice-bound land. for though the gulf of bothnia is frozen for many months, and the folk walk backwards and forwards to sweden, the summer bursts forth in such luxuriance that the flowers verily seem to have been only hiding under the snow, ready to raise their heads. the land is quickly covered by bloom as if kissed by fairy lips. and the corn is ripe and ready for cutting before the first star is seen to twinkle in the heavens. just outside our window, which looked away over the russian and lutheran churches to the sea, we watched a house which was being built with some interest. the town stands either on massive glacial rocks, or, in other parts that have been reclaimed from the sea, on soft sand; in the latter case the erection has to be reared on piles. for the foundation of the house mentioned, long stakes, about twenty feet in length, were driven into the ground. above this pile a sort of crane was erected, from which hung a large heavy stone caught by iron prongs. some twenty men stood round the crane, and with one "heave oh!" pulled the stone up to the top, where, being let loose, it fell with a tremendous thud upon the head of the luckless pile, which was driven with every successive blow deeper into the earth. when all the piles were thus driven home, four or five feet apart, rough bits of rock or stone were fitted in between them, and the whole was boarded over with wood after the fashion of a flooring, on top of which the house itself was built. the men worked all day and all night in relays at the job. _helsingfors_ is very advanced in its ideas; it then had electric light everywhere, telephones in each house, and so on; nevertheless, it only possessed one large carriage, and that was a landau which belonged to the hotel. in this splendid vehicle, with two horses and a coachman bedecked like an english beadle, we went for a drive, and so remarkable was the appearance of our equipage that every one turned round to look at us, and, as we afterwards learned, to wonder who we could possibly be, since we looked english, spoke german, and drove out with finlanders. many happy days might be passed in _helsingfors_, which contains museums and various places of interest. but it is essentially a winter town, and, as all the smart folk had flown and the windows were as closely barred as those of london in august and september, we hurried on to gayer and quainter scenes, which unfolded many strange experiences, or this summer trip to finland would never have been written. during the ten weeks we were in _suomi_ we slept in twenty-six different beds. beds did we say? save the mark! we slept under twenty-six different _circumstances_, would be more to the point, for our nights of rest, or unrest, were passed in a variety of ways--in beautiful brass bedsteads with spring mattresses; in wooden boxes dragged out until they became a bed, the mattress being stuffed with the _luikku_ or _ruopo_ plant, which makes a hard and knotty couch. we slept in the bunks of ships, which for curiosity's sake we measured, and found seldom exceeded eighteen inches in width; we lay on the floor with only a rug dividing us from the wooden boards; or we reposed on a canvas deck-chair, which originally cost about five shillings in london; we even dozed on the top of a dining-room table; and last, but not least, to avoid giving ourselves up as a meal to unwelcome visitors, we avoided beds altogether, and slept on the top of a grand piano, or, more properly speaking, an old-fashioned spinet, the notes of which gave forth a hard and tinny sound when touched. it must not be imagined from this that there were not beds, for beds were generally procurable, lots of beds, in fact, the mattresses piled one on the top of another. but--well, we preferred the spinet! footnotes: [a] _a winter jaunt to norway._ [b] translated from the swedish by alfred perceval graves. chapter ii a finnish country-house a seventeen hours' trip in the _kaiser wilhelm_ along the coast brought us from _helsingfors_ to _wiborg_. the passage lay between innumerable islands, and every landing-place was thickly strewn with wood ready for export. finland is a primitive country, and we could not help smiling at the spectacle of a family removal. when changing residences it is evidently not considered necessary to pack up anything, consequently the entire contents of a house were put on board and removed from the ship without any wrappings whatsoever. the mattresses and the blankets were not even tied together. pictures were all left loose, looking-glasses stood uncovered, yet, thanks to the gentleness and honesty of the finnish sailors, nothing appeared to get broken, and when we left the quay we saw the owner of these chattels standing complacently in the midst of his household gods, from which, judging by the serenity of his smile, nothing had been stolen or lost. as we neared _wiborg_ we were all excitement as to what a visit to a country-house would be like, especially as we were going among strangers, having been most hospitably invited to stay with the relations of our finnish friend on their summer island-home of _ilkeäsaari_. as the _kaiser wilhelm_ hove-to alongside the quay, we were warmly welcomed by the english and american consuls and baron theodore von b----. there were many passengers, but not much luggage, and consequently, by the time we had exchanged a few words of greeting, we discovered that every one of our boxes and bags had been placed singly in state on the seat of separate _droschkies_. the row of five russian-dressed cabbies were much disappointed when they found that the many fares they had anticipated were not in store for them, and that all the luggage was to go upon one cart sent for the purpose, while the solitary landau and pair in waiting was our host's private carriage, intended to bear us some three hours' drive to his quaintly situated residence. passing the old castle of _wiborg_ with its modern red roof and many centuries of swedish history, then the palace of the governor, to say nothing of numbers of villa residences further on, where the folk of st. petersburg--only two hours distant by train--settle down for the summer to enjoy sea-bathing, we plunged into a charming pine-wood, through which the roadway was so narrow that the trees literally swished the carriage as it passed. drawing up suddenly we discovered that a stretch of water divided us from our island home, and as we were in a carriage, and there was no bridge, it seemed for a moment as if further progress were impossible. nothing of the kind, however, the carriage was calmly driven on to a kind of wide barge made for the purpose, the horses' noses being reflected in the water into which they peered. so clear were the reflections that evening, that the butterflies fluttering overhead were so distinctly visible in the water that it seemed almost impossible to believe them other than denizens of the lake along with the fishes. the picturesque-looking man, wearing a pink cotton shirt and slouch hat, who had been waiting for our arrival, came on to the floating bridge beside us, and by means of pulleys and ropes, to work which he turned a handle, ferried us across to the opposite bank. this was a private arrangement and very ingenious, and away we trotted merrily through the pines, the earth, moss-grown and fern-strewn, intersected here and there by massive boulders of rock. so rocky indeed was the road in parts that the carriage was driven over huge blocks of granite, while distinct marks of past glacial movement were everywhere visible. ah! there was the house, much larger than a villa, entirely made of wood, except for the stone foundations containing the cellars. the solid trees of which it was built were painted white, so that it looked very sunny and cheerful. a flight of wooden steps led to the front door, and to the numerous balconies by which, finnish fashion, the house was nearly surrounded. the warmest welcome awaited us; we were received as though we had been old and dear friends, instead of total strangers from a foreign land. our host, the captain and his fru, were, luckily for us, excellent german scholars; indeed all the family spoke that language fluently, while some of the members could also speak english. our hostess's first exclamation when we arrived at her beautiful country home was an inquiry as to the contents of the large hold-all. "rugs," we replied, "and fur coats." "rugs and fur coats," she exclaimed in amusement. "what for?" "to wear, of course," we answered. "did you think finland was cold, then?" she asked. "certainly," we returned, "so we have each brought a rug and a fur-lined coat." she laughed and said, "far better to have brought cotton frocks." it was our turn now to be amazed, and we asked her what she meant by cotton frocks. "why, do you not know that our summer is much hotter than it is in england--it is shorter, but much warmer." we were surprised. but she was right, as subsequent events proved, and our bundle of rugs was an everlasting joke during the whole of our journey through _suomi_, for having brought them we would not part with them, although during the whole of june, july, and august, we never undid them once nor opened an umbrella, except one night while descending the famous _uleå_ rapids, when, if we had owned all the furs in britain, we could not have kept ourselves warm, so impregnated with cold damp was the atmosphere. the island _ilkeäsaari_ is the scene of a huge family gathering each summer, after a truly finnish fashion, for besides the big house, which is a sort of rendezvous for every one, the married sons and daughters have also their own summer residences within a stone's throw; the parents' house is a general dining-hall on sundays and sometimes on other days also. could any more delightful household be imagined? clever and interesting in every way, with advanced ideas and wide interests, their home almost cosmopolitan in its english, french, and german literature, the elder folk ready and willing to chat on any theme in several tongues, the children talking finnish to the servants, french to their governess, or swedish to their parents, it was altogether an ideal family life in every sense, and more than charming to the strangers to whom _ilkeäsaari_ opened its doors and gave such a kindly welcome. it is only in the homes of the people, rich and poor, one can learn anything of their characteristics. one may live in the large hotels of london, paris, st. petersburg, or rome, and yet know almost nothing of the nations in whose midst we find ourselves. food is much the same all over europe, waiters wear regulation black coats and white ties, drawing-rooms and reading-rooms contain _the times_, the _kölnische zeitung_, or the _novóe vremya_; and when, guide-book in hand, we walk through the streets to visit the museums, we imagine we are learning the innermost lives of the people, of whom we generally know mighty little. one week in the smallest private house teaches us more than a month in the largest hotel in the world. "all very well," says the reader; "but how are we to get into the private houses?" ah, there is the rub. we must open our own doors first; we must learn some languages, that golden key to travel, and when foreigners come into our midst with introductions, we must show them our homes and our lives if we want them to do the same for us. as it is, that humiliating cry is always sounding in our ears-- "english people never speak anything but english, and they are inhospitable to strangers; they are a proud nation and cold." it is a libel, a hideous libel; but one which is, unfortunately, believed all over the continent by foreigners not thoroughly acquainted with english folk in their own homes. english, being the language of commerce, is fast becoming the language of the world, in spite of its imperfections; but to enjoy a country one must be able to converse in its own tongue. the finnish summer is not long, but it is both light and warm, the average temperature being as much higher than our own as it is lower in winter, and the people certainly enjoy both seasons to the full. every country-house is surrounded by balconies, and on them all meals are served in the summer. we were fortunate enough to dine in many family circles, and to see much of the life of the rich, as well as the life of the poor. one of the greatest features of a high-class finnish meal is the _smörgåsbord_. on a side-table in every dining-room rows of little appetising dishes are arranged, and in the middle stands a large silver urn, _brännvin_, containing at least a couple of liqueurs or schnapps, each of which comes out of a different tap. every man takes a small glass of brandy, which is made in finland from corn, and is very strong. no brandy is allowed to be imported from russia or _vice versâ_, a rule very strictly adhered to in both countries. having had their drink and probably _skålat_ ("i drink your health") to their respective friends, each takes a small plate, knife, and fork from the pile placed close at hand, and helps himself to such odds and ends as he fancies before returning to the dining-table to enjoy them. generally four or five things are heaped on each plate, but as they are only small delicacies they do not materially interfere with the appetite. usually in summer the _smörgåsbord_ contains-- _salt_, _graf lax_, raw or smoked salmon. _rädiser_, radishes. _ost_, cheese of various kinds, shaved very thin and eaten with black bread and butter, _bondost_ and _baueruk_ being two favourite kinds among the peasantry. _kaviar_, which is quite excellent and unlike anything we have in england, being the whole eggs of the sturgeon instead of a messy black compound. _renstek_, smoked reindeer, which is not nearly so nice as it is when eaten fresh in the winter in norway. _Ägg_, cold hard-boiled eggs cut in slices and arranged with sardines or anchovies. _ost omelette_, a delicious sort of custard or omelette, made with cheese and served hot, although everything else on the side-table is cold. mushrooms cooked in cream is another favourite dish. then small glass plates with slices of cold eel in jelly, salmon in jelly, tongue, ham, potted meat, etc., complete the _smörgåsbord_, which is often composed of fifteen or twenty dishes. these delicacies are many of them delicious, but as the same things appear at each meal three times a day, one gets heartily sick of them in the end, and, to an english mind, they certainly seem out of place at breakfast time. there are many excellent breads in finland-- _frankt bröd_ is really french bread; but anything white is called _frankt bröd_, and very good it is, as a rule. _råg bröd_, or rye bread, is the ordinary black bread of the country, made in large flat loaves. _hålkaka_, the peasants' only food in some parts, is baked two or three times a year, so they put the bread away in a loft or upon the kitchen rafters; consequently, by the time the next baking day comes round it is as hard as a brick. a knife often cannot cut it. it is invariably sour, some of the last mixing being always left in the tub or bucket, that the necessary acidity may be ensured. _knäckebröd_ is a thin kind of cake, made of rye and corn together, something like scotch oatcake, with a hole in the middle, so that it may be strung up in rows like onions on a stick in the kitchen. when thin and fresh it is excellent, but when thick and stale a dog biscuit would be equally palatable. _wiborgs kringla_, called in finnish _wiipurin rinkeli_, is a great speciality, its real home and origin being _wiborg_ itself. it is a sort of cake, but its peculiarity is that it is baked on straw, some of the straw always adhering to the bottom. it is made in the form of a true lover's knot, of the less fantastic kind, and a golden sign of this shape hangs outside to determine a baker's shop; even in petersburg and in the north of finland a modified representation of the _wiborgs kringla_ also denotes a bakery. having partaken of the odds and ends mentioned, the ordinary mid-day meal or dinner begins, usually between two and four o'clock. the hostess, who sits at the head of the table, with her husband generally on one side and her most honoured guest on the other, with two huge soup-tureens before her, asks those present whether they will have soup or _filbunke_, a very favourite summer dish. this is made from fresh milk which has stood in a tureen till it turns sour and forms a sort of curds, when it is eaten with sugar and powdered ginger. it appears at every meal in the summer, and is excellent on a hot day. it must be made of fresh milk left twenty-four hours in a warm kitchen for the cream to rise, and twenty-four hours in the cellar, free from draught, to cool afterwards. the castor sugar is invariably served in a tall silver basin--that is to say, the bowl, with its two elegant handles, stands on a well-modelled pillar about eight or ten inches high, altogether a very superior and majestic form of sugar basin. there are two special drinks in finland--one for the rich, the other for the poor. _mjöd_ is one of the most delicious beverages imaginable. it is not champagne, and not cider, but a sort of effervescing drink of pale yellow colour made at the breweries, and extremely refreshing on a hot day. it costs about one shilling and sixpence a bottle, sometimes more, and is often handed round during an afternoon call with the coffee and _marmelader_, the famous russian sweetmeats made of candied fruits. the other drink is called in swedish _svagdricka_, but as it is really a peasant drink, and as the peasants speak finnish, it is generally known as _kalja_, pronounced "kal-e-yah." it looks black, and is really small beer. very small indeed it is, too, with a nasty burnt taste, and the natives up-country all make it for themselves, each farm having half a dozen or twenty hop poles of its own, which flavours the _kalja_ for the whole party for a year, so its strength of hop or amount of bubble is not very great. from the middle of june till the middle of july we ate wild strawberries three times a day with sugar and cream! they simply abound, and very delicious these little _mansikka_ are. so plentiful are they that _suomi_ is actually known as "strawberry land." there are numbers of wild berries in finland; indeed, they are quite a speciality, and greet the traveller daily in soup--sweet soups being very general--or they are made into delicious syrups, are served as compôte with meat, or transformed into puddings. here are a few of them-- finnish. latin. _mansikka_ _fragaria vesca_ wild strawberries, found in profusion everywhere. _mesikka_ _rubus arcticus_ red, with splendid aroma. liqueur is made from them. _vaatukka_ _rubus idaeus_ wild raspberry. _lakka_ _rubus chamaemorus_ black. often made into a kind of black juice, and taken as sweet soup. _mustikka_ _vaccinium myrtillus_ (wortleberries)--black. often made into soup of a glorious colour. _puolukka_ _vaccinium vitis idaea_ (red whortleberry)--like a small cranberry. eaten with meat. _juolukka_ _vaccinium uliginosum_ a common black kind of berry, not very eatable. _herukka_ _ribes nigrum_ cranberry. _karpalo_ _vaccinium occycoccus_ this berry is not gathered in the autumn, but is left under the snow all the winter, ready to be picked in spring when the snow melts, as the fruit is better when it has been frozen. it keeps in a tub for months without any preparation, and is particularly good as a jelly when eaten with cream. _muurain_ (swedish, _hjortron_) in appearance is like a yellow raspberry; grows in the extreme north in the morasses during august. it is a most delicious fruit, with a pine-tree flavour. "will you have some sweetbread?" we were once asked, but as we were drinking coffee at the moment we rather wondered why we should be going back to the _éntrees_--our stupidity, of course. sweetbread is the name given to all simple forms of cake in finland; a great deal of it is eaten, and it is particularly good. at dinner, hock, claret, or light beer are drunk as a rule; but at breakfast and supper, beer and milk are the usual beverages, the latter appearing in enormous jugs--indeed, we have actually seen a glass one that stood over two feet high. after dinner, coffee is immediately served with cream, not hot milk; after supper, tea is generally handed round, the hostess brewing it at the table. beside her stands a huge _samovar_, which is really a russian urn, and not a teapot as generally supposed. inside it are hot coals or coke, round the tin of which is the boiling water, while above it stands the teapot, kept hot by the water below. it is generally very good tea, for it comes from china in blocks through siberia, but it is much better when drunk with thin slices of lemon than with milk. as a rule, it is served to men in tumblers, and to women in cups, an etiquette with an unknown origin. it is pale-straw colour, and looks horribly weak, and so it is, but with lemon it forms a very refreshing beverage. at the end of each meal every one at the table goes and shakes hands with the host and hostess and says "_tack_" (thank you); certainly a pretty little courtesy on the part of strangers, but rather monotonous from children, when there are many of them, as there often are in finland, especially when the little ones cluster round the parents or grandparents as a sort of joke, and prolong the "_tack_" for an indefinite period. then the men smoke; seldom the women, for, although so close to russia, finnish women rarely imitate their neighbours in this habit. the elder men smoke tremendously, especially cigarettes, fifty or sixty per diem being nothing uncommon. in fact, this smoking has become so terrible a curse that there is now a movement among the students, most of whom seem to be anti-smokers, against tobacco, so perhaps the new generation may not have such black teeth and yellow fingers. but to return to the first impressions of our country-house. the balconies are made very wide so as to admit a dining-table, and as the roofs of the houses project a couple of feet beyond the balcony, in order to throw the winter's snows on to the ground instead of allowing them to block up the verandahs, there is plenty of shade; that is occasionally increased by hanging curtains of red and white striped canvas, which can be drawn together, and form quite a little room. they were the jolliest, happiest meals in that island home! every one spoke german--the language we all knew best in common--and conversation, jokes, and merriment never flagged as we sat facing that glorious view of pine-wood and water, while the lilac (just two months later than in england) scented the air, or the hawthorn afforded shelter for endless birds who were constantly singing. among the most notable cries was that of the friendly cuckoo. fourteen, and even twenty, of us often dined together--the daughters, sons, husbands, wives, and children from the other houses frequently gathering round the father's board. and in the cool of the evening we usually went for a row on the lake. every one boats in finland. two or three sailing boats, and some dozen rowing skiffs and canvas _kanots_ of different sizes, lay upon the captain's water, and at all times and seasons some person was away in one of them, or down at the bathing house enjoying a so-called sea-bath, although it was not really salt water, being more of an inland lake. canoeing is one of the great sports of finland, and yet it is only within the last ten years that these _kanots_ have come in such universal use, although no country was ever better fitted for the purpose, for it is one series of long lakes joined together by beautiful rivers. dr. august ramsay must be termed the father of finnish canoeing, for it was his book on the subject that made the sport so fashionable. funnily enough, these finnish canoes are always made of canvas stretched over ribs of wood. they are two and a half to three feet wide and some twenty feet long; therefore they are pretty solid and can be used with a sail. an englishman fond of the sport cannot do better than take a summer jaunt to finland, and with his canoe travel through some of the most beautiful parts of that captivating country. finlanders lead a very jolly, independent, happy life during the summer months. they seem to throw off their cares and responsibilities and to make up their minds to enjoy the long, balmy days, and, as they are not devoured by the midges which eat up strangers alive, they have nought to ruffle the even tenor of their way. after supper, when the day's work is over, and the great heat has gone, boating parties are made up, and, in the brilliant midnight sunsets, they glide in and out of the islands, visit distant friends, singing the while some of the delightful melodies for which their land is justly famous. even as far back as , when i paid my first visit to finland, and when telephones were barely in general use in england, _suomi_ was ahead of us. the great excitement in the homes was the ring of the telephone bell and the swedish cry, "hulloa! ring up so and so," which at first we imagined was being translated into english for our benefit. telephones are very cheap there, costing about a couple of pounds a year, and they are universal; for, like norway, finland was one of the first countries to be riddled with them, and a delightful luxury they are, for by their means one can live out of the world, and yet be in it. in those early days of telephones strange things happened. _pekka_ was madly in love with _ilma_, a wondrously beautiful maid. he heard rumours that she was trifling with another. he could not stand the torture even for a few hours, and so "rang up" the mansion of the family _heikkilä_. joy, he heard the voice of _ilma_ in answer, and said, "is it you, dear one? i, _pekka_, am here." a soft sigh replied. "are you glad to hear _pekka_--do you care for him just a little?" "yes," sighed the fair maid. "darling, it is not true you care for _armas merikanto_?" "no, no!" she cried. "you like me--you love me?" "yes," she softly murmured. "will you be my wife?" "i will, _pekka_." overjoyed, _pekka_ almost hugged the wooden box that brought him such glad tidings. "when may i come to see you, darling--my little wife?" "come, _pekka_--come for dinner at three o'clock." a few more sweet nothings, and, quite enraptured, he returned to his dull office routine. at three o'clock, spick and span, with a golden ring in his pocket, he presented himself at the house of the _heikkiläs_. in the salon stood the mother. he went towards her to receive her motherly congratulations. she rushed forward to meet him, as all good mothers-in-law should, and, throwing herself into his arms, she cried-- "take me, _pekka_, dearest _pekka_; i am yours till death." "mine?" "yes. i have loved you long, darling _pekka_, and i am ready whenever you can fix a day for our marriage!" tableau! _moral_--beware of telephones! matrimony generally expects too much and gets too little. courtship proved the same in this case. the first thing that strikes a stranger on entering a finnish country-house is the mats, placed at the foot of every staircase and outside every door. they are made of the loose branches of the pine-tree neatly laid on the top of one another to form an even round mat, these branches being so constantly renewed that they always give off a delicious fresh smell. the next surprise is the enormous white porcelain stove or oven found in every room; so enormous are these _kakelugn_ that they reach the ceiling, and are sometimes four feet long and three or four feet deep. the floors of all the rooms are painted raw-sienna colour, and very brightly polished. to our mind it seems a pity not to stain the natural wood instead of thus spoiling its beauty, but yellow paint is at present the fashion, and fashion is always beautiful, some folk say. in winter carpets and rugs are put down, but during summer the rooms are swept daily (at all events in the country) with a broom made of a bundle of fresh, green birch leaves--somewhat primitive, but very efficacious, for when the leaves are a little damp they lick up dust in a wonderful manner. these little brooms are constantly renewed, being literally nothing more than a bundle of birch boughs tied tightly together. they cost nothing in a land where trees grow so fast that it is difficult for a peasant to keep the ground near his house free from their encroachments. in truth, finland is utterly charming. its lakes, its canals, its rivers, its forests, are beautiful, and its customs are interesting. it is primitive and picturesque, and its people are most kind and hospitable, but--and oh! it is a very big _but_ indeed, there exists a finnish pest. strolling through those beautiful dark pines and silver birch woods, he is ever by one's side; sailing or rowing over the lakes, that finnish demon intrudes himself. sitting quietly at meals, we know the fiend is under the table, while, as we rest on the balcony in the evening, watching a glorious sun sinking to rest an hour before midnight, he whispers in our ears or peeps into our eyes. he is here, there, and everywhere; he is omnipresent--this curse of finland. he is very small, his colour is such that he is hardly visible, and he is sly and crafty, so that the unwary stranger little guesses that his constant and almost unseen companion will speedily bring havoc to his comfort and dismay into his life. the little wretch is called _mygga_ in swedish or _itikainen_ in finnish, the finnish words being pronounced exactly as they are written, in the german style of calling i, e, etc. in english he is a mosquito of a very virulent description, and in finland he is a peculiarly knowing little brute, and shows a hideous partiality for strangers, not apparently caring much for the taste of finnish blood. he loves englishwomen as inordinately as they loathe him, and, personally, the writer suffered such tortures that her ankles became hot and swollen, and at last, in spite of lavender oil, ammonia and camphor baths, grew so stiff that walking became positively painful, and her ears and eyes mere distorted lumps of inflamed flesh! therefore, dear lady reader, be prepared when you visit midgeland to become absolutely hideous and unrecognisable. when a kindly servant brings a rug to wind round your legs under the dinner-table on the balcony, gladly accept that rug. there are not merely mosquitoes but--but--that awful experience must be told in another chapter. as a town _wiborg_ is nothing to boast of. there is nothing very remarkable about any ordinary finnish town, with the exception of the capital, _helsingfors_, where all the best buildings are centered and built of stone. most of the towns are modern and generally ugly, because, being of wood, they are so apt to be burnt down, that architects give neither time nor thought to their structural beauty, or, even when not so destroyed, the original houses--which seldom last over a hundred years--have fallen out of repair and been replaced by undecorative wooden structures. stone houses are few and far between, and, as a rule, the wooden dwellings are only one storey high, because fires in such low buildings are more easily extinguished, and, land not being of much value, the space required for such edifices can easily be afforded. these wooden dwellings are usually painted dark red in the smaller towns, and lighter shades in the larger, while here and there on the walls are to be seen iron rosettes and other queer sort of ornaments, really used as a means of keeping the house together. no one, not even a finn, could call the average native town beautiful, although some excellent stone educational buildings are springing up here and there. the capital is charmingly situated and has several very nice buildings, and is therefore an exception, but even in the case of _wiborg_ the shop windows are small and uninviting, the streets are shockingly laid with enormous boulder stones and sometimes even bits of rock, while pavements, according to our ideas, hardly exist. the religion being lutheran there are no beautiful churches, only simple whitewashed edifices, extremely plain inside, with an organ at one end, an altar and perhaps one picture at the other. in the case of _kuopio_ (which town possesses a bishop) the cathedral is only lighted by candles, and, during the service, a man goes round continually putting out those that have burnt too low with a wet sponge tied to the end of a stick! one of the chief characteristics of the towns, most noticeable to a stranger, is that none of the windows are ever open. the finn dreads fresh air as much as he dreads _daily_ ablutions, and therefore any room a stranger enters at any hour is certain to be stuffy and oppressive. one day in _wiborg_, overcome with the intense heat, we went into a confectioner's where ices were provided, to get cool. imagine our horror to find that the double windows were hermetically sealed, although the café invited the patronage of strangers by placards stating "ices were for sale." what irony! to eat an ice in a hothouse as a means of getting cool. _wiborg_ has a big market, and every day a grand trade is done in that large open space, and as we wandered from one cart of meat to another of vegetables or black bread, or peeped at the quaint pottery or marvellous baskets made from shavings of wood neatly plaited, our attention was arrested by fish tartlets. we paused to look; yes, a sort of pasty the shape of a saucer was adorned in the middle with a number of small fish about the size of sardines. they were made of _suola kala_ (salted fish), eaten raw by the peasants; we now saw them in _wiborg_ for the first time, though, unhappily, not for the last, since these fish tartlets haunted us at every stage of our journey up country. what weird and wonderful foods one eats and often enjoys when travelling. strange dishes, different languages, quaint customs, and unexpected characteristics all add to the charms of a new land; but it requires brains to admire anything new. fools are always stubborn, even in their appreciation of the beautiful. chapter iii finnish baths no one can be many days in finland without hearing murmurs of the bath-house. a finnish bath once taken by man or woman can never be forgotten! a real native bath is one of the specialities of the country. even in the old songs of the _kalevala_ they speak of the "cleansing and healing vapours of the heated bath-room." poets have described the bath in verse, artists have drawn it on canvas, and singers have warbled forth its charms; nevertheless, it is not every traveller who has penetrated the strange mystery. most strange and most mysterious it is. but i anticipate. every house in the country, however humble that house may be, boasts its _bastu_, or bath-house, called in finnish _sauna_. as we passed along the country roads, noting the hay piled up on a sort of tent erection made of pine trunks, to dry in the sun before being stowed away into small wooden houses for protection during the winter, or nearly drove over one of those strange long-haired pigs, the bristles on whose backs reminded one of a hog-maned polo pony, one saw these _bastus_ continually. among the cluster of little buildings that form the farm, the bath-house, indeed, stands forth alone, and is easily recognisable, one of its walls, against which the stove stands, being usually black, even on the outside, from smoke. every saturday, year in, year out, that stove is heated, and the whole family have a bath--not singly, oh dear, no, but altogether, men, women, and children; farmer, wife, brothers, sisters, labourers, friends, and the dogs too, if they have a mind; so that once in each week the entire population of finland is clean, although few of them know what daily ablutions, even of the most primitive kind, mean, while hot water is almost as difficult to procure in _suomi_ as a great auk's egg in england. naturally any institution so purely national as the finnish _bastu_ was worth investigating--in fact, could not be omitted from our programme. bathing with the peasants themselves, however, being impossible, we arranged to enjoy the extraordinary pleasure at a friend's house, where we could be duly washed by one of her own servants; for, be it understood, there is always one servant in every better-class establishment who understands the _bastu_, and can, and does wash the family. when _she_ is washed, we unfortunately omitted to inquire. in towns, such as _helsingfors_, there are professional women-washers, who go from house to house to bathe and massage men and women alike. theirs is a regular trade, and as the higher class of the profession receive about a shilling for "attending" each bath given at a private house, the employment is not one to be despised. neither is it, as proved by the fact that there are over public bathing-women in little finland. on the eventful night of our initiation, supper was over, the house-party and guests were all assembled on the balcony, the women engaged in needlework, and the men smoking cigarettes, when _saima_, the finnish servant, arrived to solemnly announce in a loud tone that the english lady's bath was ready. taking a fond farewell of the family, i marched solemnly behind the flaxen-haired _saima_, who had thoroughly entered into the spirit of the joke of giving an english lady a finnish bath, neither the bather nor attendant being able to understand one word of what the other spoke. down an avenue overshadowed by trees we proceeded, getting a peep of a perfectly glorious sunset which bathed one side of the lake in yellow hues, while the other was lighted by an enormous blood-red moon, for in those northern climes there are many strange natural effects far more beautiful than in the south. it was a wonderful evening, and i paused to consider which was the more beautiful, the departing day or the coming night, both of which were fighting for supremacy. _saima_ would brook no delay, however, so i had to hurry on. immediately before us was the _bastu_--a wee wooden house like a small swiss châlet, the outer room, where i undressed, containing a large oven. the inner room boasted only one small window, through which the departing day did not shine very brilliantly, luckily for my modesty. its furniture was only a large-sized tin bath filled with cold water, opposite to which were seven very wide wooden steps like a staircase, twelve feet wide perhaps, the top step forming a kind of platform where there was just room to sit without one's head touching the tarred ceiling above. the steps and the platform were covered with straw--finnish fashion--for the great occasion. i wondered what next, but had not much time for speculation, for _saima_--who only took off her outer dress--grasped me by the hand, her face aglow with the intense heat, led me up the wooden staircase, and signed her will that i should sit on the straw-strewn platform afore honourably mentioned. oh, the heat! many of us know turkish baths; but then we take them gradually, whereas in the _bastu_ one plunges into volcanic fires at once. blinking in the dim light, i found that beside us was a brick-built stove, for which the fire, as i had noticed while disrobing, is in the outer chamber, and when the washing-woman threw a pail of water upon the surface of the great heated stones, placed for the purpose inside the stove, the steam ascended in volumes, and the temperature went up, until i exclaimed, in one of the few swedish sentences i knew, "_mycket hett_" (very hot), at which agonised remark _saima_ laughed uproariously, and, nodding and smiling, fetched another pail of water from the cold bath, and threw its contents on the brick furnace in order that more steaming fumes might ascend. almost stifled i blinked, and gasped, and groaned by turns, repeating again and again, "_mycket hett_," "_alltför hett_" (too hot), "_tack så mycket_" (thank you), in tones of anguish. much amused, _saima_--who, be it understood, was a swedish-speaking finn--stood smiling cheerfully at my discomfiture; but, happily, at last she seemed to think i might have had enough, for, after waving my hands hopelessly to the accompaniment of "_nej tack, nej tack_" (no thank you), she apparently understood and desisted. a moment later, through the steam, her smiling face ascended the stairs, with a pail of hot water in one hand, and a lump of soft soap in the other, on which was a large bundle of white fibre, something like hemp. dipping this in the pail, she soon made a lather with the soap, and, taking up limb after limb, scrubbed hard and long--scrubbed until my skin tingled, and in the damp mysterious heat i began to wonder how much of my body would emerge from the ordeal. this scrubbing was a long process, and if the finns wash one another as industriously as _saima_ washed me, no one in finland should ever be dirty, although most of them must lose several skins a year. pails of water were then thrown over me, over the straw, over everything, and i heard the soapy water gurgling away into the lake below, which was covered with yellow and white water-lilies. lilies cannot object to soap, or they would never bloom in finland as they do. "_mycket bra_" (very good), i called again and again, hoping that appreciation might perhaps make _saima_ desist, as the exclamations at the heat did not seem to alarm her. more water was thrown on to the steaming bricks, and _saima_ retired, returning immediately with a great bundle of birch leaves, tied up with a string, such as i had often seen her on former occasions sweeping the floors with. dipping the branches of the birch into a pail of hot water she proceeded to beat her victim all over! yes, beat me, beat me hard. she laughed, and i laughed; but the more i laughed the harder she thumped, till the sharp edges of the leaves left almost a sting, while the strong healthy _saima_ beat me harder and harder, dipping the leaves into hot water continually, and grinning cheerily all the time. the peasantry in finland are occasionally good enough to wash one another, and stories are told of a dozen of them sitting in rows on the wooden steps, each man vigorously beating his neighbour with birch boughs. at harvest time, when the heat is very great, and the work very hard, labourers have a bath _every night_! frequently, after our wonderful experience at _ilkeäsaari_, we saw, while journeying farther into the country, shoals of human beings strolling off to enjoy their _bastu_ or _sauna_. it was a weird and wonderful experience. i was really beginning to feel the heat dreadful after an hour, and was confident the blood must be galloping through my veins. finally the good-tempered finnish maid appeared to be of the same mind, for she fetched a pail of cold water, and, pouring a good drop on my head--which made me jump--she dipped her birch branches therein and switched them over me. had i followed true finnish fashion i should then have taken a midnight plunge straight into the lake outside--or in winter taken a roll in the snow--but, our bath being rather more aristocratic, i only descended the slippery steps, really gasping with the heat and treatment, and jumped into that bath of cold water previously mentioned; before--clad only in burning hot towels--returning to the outer room to dress. i puffed and panted, and, quite exhausted, longed for a turkish divan and quiet rest before, robed in fur coats and thick under-garments, i trotted home to bed. the bath was taken, the mystery unravelled; i had been washed according to native ideas and customs, and understood what the whole thing meant. some pleasures are too nearly allied to pain to be really pleasant. whether it was the heat, or exhaustion, or the loss of one skin or many, i know not; but after a glass of _mjöd_, that most delicious and refreshing of finnish drinks, i slept splendidly--the first time after weeks of anxiety and grief--and felt fit next morning for any amount of hard work, even for a journey to russia through finland, though we did not speak or understand the language of either country. adversity may develop character, but it is mighty unpleasant. the finnish peasant thinks nothing of being seen by his friends or his neighbours in a state of nature, _apropos_ of which peculiarity a well-known general told us the following story-- he had been inspecting a district, and for his benefit parades, etc., were held. some hours afterwards he went for a ride, and on returning to the village he passed a _sauna_, where the folk were enjoying their primitive kind of turkish bath. according to the usual custom one of the men came out to dress himself; but, having left his clothes in a little pile some twenty feet from the _sauna_ door, he had hardly looked out his things when he noticed that the general was upon him. though not in the least confused by the fact of his nakedness, for which he made no apology, he nevertheless exclaimed in tones of horror, "the general! the general!" and began rummaging among the articles on the ground, till at last he pulled forth a wig, which, all in a hurry, he clapped on his head wrong side up, then standing proudly erect he saluted the general as he passed. the poor fellow evidently considered his wig of much more importance than his shirt. modesty is a matter of climate and custom, just as morals are a matter of geography. another amusing story is told of an elegant englishman who had heard so much of finnish baths that he determined to try one; having arrived at some small town, he told the _isvoschtschik_ to go to the _bastu_. away they drove, and finally drew up at a very nice house, where he paid the twopence halfpenny fare for his cab, rang the bell, and was admitted by a woman servant. he only knew half a dozen words in swedish, but repeated _bastu_ to the smiling lass, being surprised at the elegance of the furniture in the room into which he had been shown. the girl smiled again and left him. however, thinking it was all right, he proceeded to undress, and, having entirely disrobed, he stood ready to be escorted into the bath, and accordingly rang for the woman to come and wash and massage him. a few moments later the door opened, and a very beautiful young dame stood before him. she was no masseuse, but the wife of the pastor, into whose house he had come by mistake owing to his want of knowledge of the pronunciation of the language. tableau! we had many curious experiences when bathing in the lakes, and seemed to excite as much interest in the peasantry of finland as a chinaman with his pigtail would in a small country village in england. at _sordavala_, for instance, there was a charming little bath-house belonging to our next host, for which we got the key and prepared to enjoy a swim. a bathing-dress was not to be bought for love or money. no one had ever heard of such a thing, but my sister's modesty forbade her appearing without one so near a town, and, now that we had left our kind hostess at _ilkeäsaari_, she could no longer borrow one. through the town of _sordavala_, therefore, we marched from shop to shop until we lighted upon a sort of store where linen goods were procurable. blue and white-striped galatea exactly suited the purpose, as it would be light for packing, and the colour could not run. we bought it, we paid for it, and home we marched. in less than an hour that gown was cut out by the aid of a pair of nail scissors, without any kind or sort of pattern whatever, and was sewn up ready for use. out my sister went to bathe, triumphant; but so rare was a bathing-dress that the onlookers thought the english lady had fallen into the water by mischance with all her clothes on. my sister had hardly taken a plunge from the spring-board into the water below, before every man, woman, and child in the neighbourhood began exclaiming one to the other, "the english lady has tumbled in," and, absolutely, before the bather's head could appear again from the depths of the water they had all run to the bank to have a look at the phenomenon, more prepared to rescue her from drowning than to see her swimming far out into the lake with clothes on. of course their interest was heightened by the appearance of the dress and cap, for even the better-class finlanders very rarely wear any covering on their bodies while bathing, and as the women never dive or swim under water a cap is not necessary to keep their hair dry. they evidently considered my sister and her attire something remarkably funny. again at _iisalmi_, another place of some importance, when we went down to the bath-house we found it surrounded by dozens of boys of all ages and descriptions, who were enjoying themselves gamboling in the water. a finnish gentleman of the town, to whom we had an introduction, kindly came with us to unlock the door and see that everything was satisfactory, and he quickly explained to the boys they must go away into the next cove as strange ladies were about to bathe. very reluctantly they went, and, wishing us good-bye and a pleasant dip, he went too. we undressed, donned our aquatic attire, plunged into the water, to discover, in a few moments, a row of grinning spectators, varying in age from three years old to thirty, sitting up on the banks like monkeys in a cage, thoroughly enjoying the joke. they laughed and they chatted, they pointed, they waved their arms, and they evidently considered our performances most extraordinary. these are only two instances out of many, for everywhere we went we caused interest and amusement. one of our party through northern finland was a magnificent swimmer. he had a cheery way of jumping into a boat, rowing himself far out into the lake, and then taking a header which excited the admiration of all beholders. at _kuopio_ he rowed far out as was his usual habit, while the old women of the bath-house watched his performance from the shore. one minute went by, and he did not reappear; two minutes went by, and they still did not see his head. "he is drowned, he is drowned," they shrieked in despair, and great was the hubbub and dismay which ensued before he came up again smiling some distance from the spot where he had originally plunged from the boat. besides being a strong swimmer, he was a remarkable diver, and if two minutes and a half be the length of time a human being can breathe under water, then we can safely say two minutes and a half was the length of time he always stayed, for in every town we halted he invariably caused consternation in the heart of some one, who thought the stranger in their midst had gone to a watery grave. he preferred the boat for the sake of his dive, but, as a rule, every one in finland bathes from the bath-houses, where there are little rooms for undressing, in front of which a big stretch of the lake is walled in as a swimming bath. a penny is the usual charge, and an extra penny for the towel. although every finlander bathes, as, indeed, they must do during their hot summers, every finlander does not swim, and it is a remarkable thing that among the women, who go daily--sometimes twice a day--to the swimming bath, most of them will sit on the steps or haul themselves round by means of a rope, and never learn how to keep themselves afloat without artificial help. walking through the park at _kuopio_ one day with the baroness michaeloff, my attention was arrested by the extraordinary number of ant hills we passed. "they are used for baths," she explained. "for what?" i asked, thinking i could not have heard aright. "for baths," she repeated; "formerly these _muurahais kylpy_ (ant-heap baths) were quite commonly employed as a cure for rheumatism and many other ailments; but now i fancy it is only the peasants who take them, or very old folk, perhaps." "can an ant bath be had here?" "certainly. but surely you don't think of taking one?" "indeed i do, though. i am trying all the baths of finland, and an ant-heap bath must not be omitted, if it is possible to have such a thing." the kindly lady laughed heartily as she said, "mais, madame, est-ce que possible que vous vouliez prendre un de ces bains?" "certainment, cela me fait plaisir," i replied, and accordingly we then and there marched off to the bath-house to see how my desire might best be accomplished. the whole matter did not take long to arrange. next day, at ten o'clock, the _muurahais kylpy_ bath was to be ready, and, in spite of all the chaff round the governor's dinner-table that night about my queer experiment, nothing daunted i presented myself at the appointed hour. the head _fröken_, who luckily spoke german, explained that my bath was ready. into a dear little room i went, and lo, the hot water in the bath was brown! while, floating on the surface, i saw a small linen sack, shaped like a pillow-case, securely tied at the end. the cushion contained the ant-heap, on which boiling water had been poured, so that the animals were really dead, the colour of the water having come from their bodies, and the room was impregnated with the odour of pines. did i shiver at the thought? well, a little, perhaps; nevertheless, i tumbled into the warm water, and was scrubbed finnish fashion by the old bath-woman, with her scrubbing brush, her soft soap, her birch branches, and, afterwards, her massage (given under the water), the _fröken_ sitting all the while on the sofa, chatting affably, and describing how the peasants omitted the sacks and simply threw the ant-heap _au naturel_ into the bath. the small room had two doors--one opening into the passage, and one into the douche-chamber, which also served for another bathroom. presently the first of the doors opened, and a girl, without apology, entered and took away a sponge. did this intrusion make me feel shy? well, you see, one gets over shyness after being washed like a baby once or twice; but she had hardly disappeared before the other door opened, giving admission to a second woman, who came in and deposited a towel; a moment later some one else appeared, and after a good stare departed; then came a fourth on some pretext or other, and i was beginning to think of the queer stories told of japan, where the whole paper wall slides back, and the natives enjoy the spectacle of english folk bathing, when yet a fifth came into the room. this was too much, and i asked the _fröken_ why they had all forgotten so many things. she laughed merrily. "i'm afraid it's curiosity to see an english lady having an ant-heap bath, so please don't be angry," and she laughed again. a spectacle, verily! but who could be angry with such innocent people? i had come to try a strange finnish bath which interested me--why should they not come to see a queer englishwoman if it amused them? flinging shyness to the winds, therefore, i smiled and grinned at the next woman who entered as though i liked being on view and she went away happy. what was a _muurahais kylpy_ like? candidly, it resembled any other ordinary warm bath, only the water was very black, and there was a strange aromatic odour about it; but there was nothing horrible in the experience, although i had a good douche--three kinds of good douches in fact--for the sake of peace of mind afterwards. a douche is delightful, especially on a hot day, and the bath-woman was particularly anxious that i should try the various kinds arranged from the floor, the ceiling, and the walls of the room. "but," i explained to the lady with a good deal of patting and gesticulation, "hair a yard long cannot be wet every day, even in the summer time, and to have a shower-bath was impossible, as she could not lend a cap." she looked distressed, but she was not going to be beaten, and beckoning for me to wait, she departed, returning a few minutes afterwards with a small white china basin; this she put on her head upside down, to show me that it would serve the purpose of a cap, and holding the rim with both hands she moved it round and round, in a way which indicated that wherever the water of the shower-bath was falling most was the side to move the basin to. it was an original idea this shower-bath trick, and it answered very well, but then baths in finland are an art, and finland without its bath-houses would not be finland at all, so i had the shower feeling like a plum pudding inside a basin. the reason that the _muurahais kylpy_ bath is efficacious for rheumatism and of strengthening property is due to the amount of formic acid the ants contain. added to which, these industrious little animals live upon the pine needles, and therefore suck all the strength from the most juicy part of the turpentiny pine, and, as we all know, turpentine is much employed in all kinds of embrocation used for rheumatism, lumbago, and sprains. soon we shall give up these appliances in favour of inoculation maybe. the next strange bath we experienced was in a waterfall, and was yet more remarkable. yes, in a real waterfall where a tremendous volume of water dashed down about ten feet. it was at _kajana_, a town lying on a stretch of the famous _uleå_ rapids. the real fall is about forty feet, over which not even the tar-boats--described in a later chapter--dare venture; consequently, two locks, each containing twenty feet of water, have been made for their use. no one could swim, even in the calmer waters above or below the locks, because of the cataracts, so a bath-house has been erected beside the fall, to which the water is brought, by means of a wooden trough, to a sort of small chamber, where it rushes in. that waterfall bath was a most alarming place. it was almost dark as we entered the little chamber through which the water passed. how shall we describe it? it was a small room about eight or ten feet square, with a wooden floor and walls. the top of the wall facing us did not join the roof by about a foot, so as to enable the water to rush in, and the bottom of the wall behind us did not reach the floor by another foot, so as to allow the water to rush out. some half-dozen stairs descended from the platform on which we stood to the floor below, but as the only light came in where the falling water was always dripping, the walls were soaking wet, and therefore quite black. it was dull and mystic to say the least of it. once the full force of the water was turned on by the large wooden arm, it poured in with such tremendous force from about ten feet above, that in a moment the floor below was a bubbling, seething, frothing pool, and as we descended the steps into this bath, now some two or three feet deep, the force of the stream was so great that we had actually to hold on by the rail of the stairs to keep our feet at all on the slippery floor below. it was a lovely sensation. a piece of bacon bubbling about in the fat of the frying-pan must experience something like the same movement as we did, bobbing up and down in this rapidly flowing stream. it almost bumped us over, it lifted us off our feet, and yet, as the water swirled round us, the feeling was delicious, and its very coldness was most enjoyable after the heat outside, and the dust we had travelled through. as we grew courageous and accustomed to the darkness, we walked more under the fall itself, but the water, simply thumping on our backs and shoulders, came with such force, that we felt exactly as if we were being well pummelled with a pair of boxing-gloves, or being violently massaged, a delicious tingling sensation being the result. it washed our hair and rinsed it in a way it had never been rinsed before; but the force of the water was so great that it was impossible to keep our whole head under the fall for more than a second at a time, as it almost stunned us. the volume was so strong that it would have rendered us quickly insensible. we women all emerged from the waterfall-bath like drowned rats; or, to put it more poetically, like mermaids, feeling splendidly refreshed, and wider awake than we had probably ever felt in our lives before. the magnitude and force of that waterfall-bath makes me gasp even now to remember. it requires a stout heart to stand underneath it; nevertheless, how delicious the experience to the travel-stained and weary traveller, who had been suffering from tropical sun, and driving for days along dusty roads in springless carts. we four women had taken the opportunity of washing our powdered hair, the accumulation of many days' dust, back to its natural colour, and, as we all possessed locks which fell considerably below our waists, they would not dry in five minutes, therefore, each with a towel over her shoulders, we came up on to the little pier, hat in hand, and our hair hanging down our backs. it certainly was somewhat primitive to sit all in a row, with our backs to the sun, on the fashionable promenade or pier of the town. but the town was not big, and the fashion was not great, and we gradually screwed up our courage, and finally walked home through the streets in the same way, carrying our hats, with towels over our shoulders for cloaks. that was all very well, but when we reached the small hotel the dinner was already on the table, for we had dallied so long over our bath that our gentlemen were impatiently waiting for our advent, and persuaded us not to stop to dress our hair as they were starving, so down we sat, just as we were, to partake of the meal. but one hardly ever does anything uncommon or a little out of the ordinances of society, in this world, without being sorry for it afterwards, and having put off struggling with knots, tangled plaits, and hair-pins, until after dinner, we were horrified when the door opened and three unknown men marched in to join our meal. there was no escape; we were caught like rats in cages. what on earth they thought of strange women sitting in towels, and with dishevelled locks, we dare not think. imagine our confusion. one was a lieutenant in the army; he was young and shy, and his discomfiture at the scene was even greater than our own. the second proved to be a delightful man; a young engineer who was employed in planning the route for the new railway to _kajana_. he told us that he had been for over a month travelling through the forests and bogs of the country, surveying for the best route for the projected line, and that the wooden staves we had noticed so often along the road, as we drove from _kuopio_, were the marks laid down as the most suitable direction for the railway to take. he had heard of us, for some peasants had told him, with great excitement, that morning that a party of eight people were driving through _savolax_, and some of them were english. poor man, he told us of his sufferings in the bogs, and how in some of the low-lying districts the mosquitoes had tormented him so awfully that he had been quite ill. even finlanders suffer sometimes, it would seem; therefore strangers need not complain. sir ronald ross has done so much to obliterate the malaria-carrying mosquito, perhaps he would like to turn his attention to finland and lapland where mosquitoes are a veritable curse to enjoyment if not to health. in spite of our dishevelled locks, we after all enjoyed a very pleasant meal. chapter iv a night in a monastery having torn ourselves away from our kind friends at _ilkeäsaari_ for a time, and digressed from our story to describe finnish baths, we must now own that the prospect of a night in a monastery was very exciting--more especially when that monastery chanced to belong to russia, and to stand alone on an island in the middle of the great _ladoga_ lake, which no doubt once joined together the white sea and the gulf of finland. it is the largest lake in europe, and celebrated also for the cold temperature of its water, which, in spite of its vast size, is always more or less frozen over in winter. it never warms in summer, and therefore there can be little or no bathing around its shores. _sordavala_, where we embarked--of which more anon--is finnish, staunch finnish, while _valamo_, where we landed, is a russian monastery; therefore no love exists between the two centres, and few arrangements are made for the comfort and transport of strangers, with the result that a couple of steamers go and come as they like; no one knew when they would start, and much less when they would return. nevertheless, on one eventful sunday morning, the longest day of the year, we were hoisted on board the _baallam_ (the v, true russian fashion, had turned into a b) from our little boat below, and seated ourselves comfortably on the vessel which belongs to the famous monastery. though we had been in many ships, manned by many types of sailors, from the swarthy moor to the short sturdy icelander, the agile italian to the fearless norseman, we here encountered a class of sailor we had never seen before. he was tall and lank and lean; he wore a sort of long gown of black cloth, green on the shoulders with age, and frayed at the elbows, while a girdle of plaited wool encircled his waist. he had no collar or cuffs, but his feet were encased in long sea-boots, which peeped out from under his petticoats, and his hair--well, his hair hung over his shoulders almost to his waist, and on his head was placed a high round black-cloth cap. he was like no class or form of sailor we had ever seen before. he was something weird and uncanny. his face was neither bronzed by the sea nor tanned by the sun, but had an unhealthy pallor about it, and his sunken eyes looked wistfully over a world of which he seemingly knew nothing. yet he was a sailor, this antithesis of a jack tar, and he was also--a russian monk! his hands were none of the cleanest, his clothes none of the sweetest; but it was not salt water that made them so--it was oil and age. we were well armed with an introduction to the _igumen_ or head of the monastery, the sort of cardinal or bishop of the island. and we were also provided with a large basket of provisions, since no one can get anything at _valamo_ except such food as the monks eat and cook themselves, not but that their food is generally good enough as simple fare goes; but at the precise time of our visit there happened to be a great fast in the greek church, during which it is impossible to secure even milk and butter, the monks being forbidden such luxuries. the only things obtainable were black bread, soup made from cabbage, groats, a sort of buck-wheat porridge cooked in oil, and small beer or tea. on such diet or on potato soup, the seventy monks and four hundred probationers live for _six weeks_ in the height of summer, as well as at easter and other festivals. oil is used profusely in cooking at such periods as a sort of penance. at other seasons milk and butter are allowed, fish is eaten on sundays, and more farinaceous and vegetable foods enjoyed, although strong beer, wine, and meat are never touched. knowing the difficulty of getting food of any kind during one of these strict fasts, and not being particularly devoted to rancid oil, we asked a friend to be sure and order for us a good basket of eatables, and, among other things, a fowl. it may be well to mention that frau von lilly accompanied us on our trip to _sordavala_, _valamo_, and _imatra_, acting as guide, cicerone, and friend. being an excellent linguist, and well versed in the manners and customs of her country, her aid was invaluable; indeed, it is to her we owe much of the success of our summer jaunt to finland. at _sordavala_, however, we were joined for a few days by a young finlander, whose family name is a household word in _suomi_, and who, though still youthful, having inherited the wisdom of his ancestors, and kindly patronising ways, proved such an excellent courier, organiser, and companion, that in joke we christened him "grandpapa," finding his wisdom far beyond his years. poor grandpapa! how we teased the youth, how we imposed upon his good nature; but through it all he emerged victorious, and has the gratification of knowing he finally escorted two englishwomen through some of the wild untrodden paths of his native land, and shipped them for home, alive and well, and none the worse for strange experiences--experiences not unmixed at times with a spice of danger. such were our travelling companions, joined later by grandpapa's handsome sisters, and a very delightful student, whose father is one of the best-known men in finland; to say nothing of a young baron, a magister, and a general, who accompanied us for a day or two at different points along our route, and then left us again, to attend other calls of duty; often our party increased to six, eight, or ten, so we were always well looked after. to grandpapa was entrusted the ordering of a fowl for _valamo_, for the party of four. "what? a whole fowl?" he asked. "certainly. surely you would not provide half a fowl for four people, would you?" "no. but i might provide four fowls for one person, which would be more suitable." we smiled a sickly smile, at what we supposed to be an attempt at finnish humour too profound for our weak intellects to grasp, or perhaps our smile veiled the hidden sarcasm we felt within at such poor fun. grandpapa forgot the fowl; but in his sleep he suddenly awoke from a dreadful nightmare, during the horrors of which that cackling creature glared upon him in the enormity of his sin. next morning he was up before the chickens' elderly friends, the cocks, began to crow, and ere they had completed their morning song, well--the stock of the farmyard was lessened. before we steamed away from the little pier, the basket of eatables arrived, and we went off happy in the possession of a fowl, sardines, cold eggs, tea, white bread and butter, a large bottle of milk, to say nothing of a small cellar of birch-bark plaitings which formed a basket, containing lager beer and soda water. all this, as written down, may seem a too goodly supply, but be it remembered we were three healthy women who had to be provisioned for thirty-six hours; grandpapa did not come with us to the monastery. two hours' steam over the northern portion of that enormous lake brought forty islands, which form a group called _valamo_, in sight, with the great white and blue-domed russian church standing out clearly against a lovely sky. this building took four years to finish. the monks built nearly all of it themselves, made the bricks, carved the wood, painted the walls, ceilings, etc., and did all the goldsmith's work for lamps and altars. it is very massive, very great, catholic in its gaudy style, but sadly wanting tone. much may, however, be accomplished by the kindly hand of time, which often renders the crudest things artistic, as it gently heals the wounds of grief. we were struck by the size of the place; close beside the monastery and large church was a huge building, a sort of hotel for visitors, containing two thousand beds! they are small rooms and small beds, 'tis true, but at times of great pilgrimages and greek festivals they are quite full. no one pays; hospitality, such as it is, is free; the visitor merely gives what he likes to the church on leaving. but the monks, who dispense hospitality gratis, do a roaring trade in photographs and rosaries, and are very pressing to sell them to strangers, not that they need be, as the monastery is noted for its riches. it certainly does not display any sign of wealth on the backs of its inhabitants, for some of their long coats looked green and yellow with age, and we were not surprised at their shabby appearance when we learned that they each only had one coat a year in which to do all their work, no matter how dirty that work might be. are they not there to mortify the flesh and learn economy? what is the want of raiment when compared with the wants of the soul? they are given triennially an enormous thick fur coat, cap, and gloves, so their wardrobes are not large, and some of the men seem to take little interest in keeping even their few garments clean or tidy. beyond this hostelry with its two thousand beds, which was built by the monks to house their better-class visitors, is yet another large building for the use of the poorer pilgrims, who sometimes come in hundreds at a time to do penance at this famous monastery. besides the two vast barracks for strangers, are stables for eighty horses, a shed for sixty cows, large gardens, piers, and storehouses, so that _valamo_ is really a huge colony, a little world, not entirely inhabited by men, however, for many of the pilgrims are women, while several of the scrubbers and cleaners in the hostelries are old wives. leaving the boat we walked up a hill, and then up some wide steps, behind the white stone copings of which purple and white lilac nodded and scented the air. this staircase was more like one in the famous borghesa gardens at rome than anything we could have expected to meet with in the north-east of europe, mid-way between britain and siberia. passing under an archway we found ourselves in a huge courtyard; just opposite to where we stood was the refectory. on the right the church, or rather two churches, for the one is really built over the other, appeared looking very imposing. all around the quadrangle were the cells. each monk had one for himself, as well as a novice to attend on him, such are his privileges; in the other cells two novices are housed together, and have to take it in turns to keep their small and comfortless abode clean and tidy. it was a wondrous sight that met our view. the mid-day meal was just over when we arrived, four hundred and seventy men were streaming out of the dining-hall. how strange they looked, each man clothed in a long black robe like a catholic priest, and each wearing his beard unshaven and his hair long, for, in imitation of our lord, they let their hair grow to any length, never touching it with steel; the locks of some few fell almost to their waist, but, as a rule, a man's hair does not seem to grow longer than his shoulders, although cases have been known where it has reached the knee. strange to say, at _valamo_ most of the monks had curls, and a lovely sort of auburn seemed the prevailing colour of their hair. if they had only kept it nicely, the wavy locks and pretty warm colour would have been charming, but in most instances it was dirty and unkempt. their faces and hands were as dirty as their coats, and altogether the idea that cleanliness is next to godliness seemed to be totally wanting in that island; still there were exceptions, and two of them luckily fell to our lot. we stood on the steps of the church transfixed. it seemed such a strange scene. it was no religious ceremony, merely the return of the monks and novices from their mid-day meal in the refectory, but yet the spectacle was fascinating. out of the door came the great _igumen_; his face was kindly, and his locks hung over his shoulders. his cloth hat almost covered his eyes, and his long black veil fell behind him like a train. a crucifix and a cross lay upon his breast, and he walked with the stately tread of a pope. he was followed by his monks clad in the same high straight cloth hats--like top hats in shape but minus the brim--from which also fell black-cloth veils. when in church long-trained skirts are added by the monks, who remain covered during most of the service; every one else uncovering. on walked the _igumen_ with lordly mien, monks, novices, and pilgrims bowing and crouching before him, some of them kneeling and touching the ground with their foreheads many times, others kissing his hands, or even the hems of his garments. each and all were pleading for some holy privilege. the lower grades followed the priests respectfully. novices of the monastery kissed the ordinary monks' hands, for the latter of course are holy and worthy of much reverence, or the monks and novices fell upon one another's necks as they did in the old bible days. we thought at first they were kissing, but we soon saw their lips merely touched first one shoulder and then another, a more usual salutation than a handshake in the monastery. such obeisance from man to man was wonderful, and the overpowering delight in the faces of the pilgrims was striking, as they accomplished the deeds of reverence they had come so many hundreds of miles shoeless to perform. sometimes as many as three thousand pilgrims arrive in one day. to the great _igumen_, as he neared his door, we gave our letter of introduction; he quickly glanced at it, then, turning to a handsome young novice standing near, spoke a few words, and, with a wave of his hand, a sweet smile and distant bow, passed on. forward came the young man. he was about six feet high, thin and lithesome, very cleanly and gentlemanly in appearance, with the most beautiful face imaginable, the sort of spiritual countenance one finds in the old masters when they strove to represent st. john, and his soft auburn hair fell on his shoulders with a round curl at the end. he was a type of a beautiful boy, twenty years of age perhaps. doffing his black cloth cap, he said-- "vielleicht die damen sprechen deutsch?" (perhaps the ladies talk german?) "gewiss" (certainly), we answered, only too delighted to be addressed in a language we knew amongst those russian-speaking folk. then he continued, "if you allow me i will show you our homes. the _igumen_ has put me entirely at your disposal." he spoke so charmingly and so fluently, we could not refrain from asking him where he had learnt to speak such excellent german. "my mother is german," he replied, "but my father is russian, and, therefore, i must belong to the orthodox church." of course, it is a known fact that if the father belongs to the greek church all the children must belong to that church, and once greek always greek. he seemed to have a sad look in his eyes as he said this, and we asked if he liked being in the monastery. "of course. certainly. it is quite of my own free will." he laid great emphasis on _my own free will_, but, somehow, there was a ring in his voice that made us feel there was more force than truth in the assertion, and, being urged by curiosity, we led the conversation back to the same theme later in the day. he took us to the guest's apartment first. we passed under a large archway, where, bidding us wait a moment, he ran on to a couple of priests, who were sitting like sentinels at either side of a staircase, and, after some parley with them, returned and explained he had arranged for us to have room no. . we discovered subsequently that all the women's rooms were on the first floor, and those of all the men on the second; husbands and wives invariably being separated. our guide courteously asked us to follow him, and, accordingly, down a long and somewhat dark corridor we wandered to no. . the walls of the gallery were plainly whitewashed, and ornamented only by an occasional small picture of a saint, before which most passers-by paused and crossed themselves. no. proved to be but a tiny room, a sort of long cupboard, containing three little wooden beds, two chairs, and one stool, which latter served as a wash-hand stand; there was besides a small table in the window, and positively nothing else. it could not have been more sparsely furnished, and it could not have been smaller, for there was only enough space to pass up and down between the beds. it savoured of a ship's cabin, yet it was the honoured guest-chamber of a monastery where hospitality coupled with strict simplicity reigned. ere leaving us with the most gracious of bows, our new friend explained he would return anon. at once we unpacked our small bundle, and arranged our luncheon basket, so that on our return, in an hour's time, after visiting the gardens, for which our novice had gone to fetch the key, we might have something to eat. when we re-entered our tiny chamber for that festive meal, we asked brother sebastian, who had meantime charmed us by his gracious kindly ways, if he would join us. he looked sadly and wistfully at the viands, ere he answered, "no, thank you, gnädige frau--i must not." there really seemed no harm in feeding the poor ill-nourished monk, so, spite of the refusal, we begged him out of sheer humanity to change his mind, and have some of our precious chicken. "i ought not to eat with strangers," he replied. "a little tea and bread, however, i will take, if you please; such small luxuries are allowed in fasting time, but i must not have any sardines or fowl, or cheese, or butter, or milk, thank you," he continued, as we handed each in turn. it seemed as though we had been reckoning without our host. where, oh! where, was the much-discussed chicken? each parcel we opened proved to be something else, and we looked from one to the other amazed. grandpapa was not there to ask, but grandpapa had told us the story of his dream, a mere phantasy of crowing chanticleers, and we began to fear he had never ordered that chicken at all. we were really getting more than anxious when the last parcel--a very small one--lay in its white paper at the bottom of that basket. even brother sebastian began to share our anxiety and sorrow, as he consolingly told us no meat, fish, or fowl was to be procured for love or money on the island. slowly and sadly we undid that little parcel, and lo! happily sitting on the white paper were three small pigeons. "no chicken, but small pigeons," we exclaimed--"how ridiculous; why, they are so tiny there is nothing on them." yet it turned out the creatures were not pigeons but the typical fowls eaten in finland during the month of july. almost as soon as the baby chicken has learnt to walk about alone, and long before he is the possessor of real feathers, his owner marks him for slaughter; he is killed and eaten. very extravagant, but very delicious. a hamburger fowl or a french poussin is good and tender, but he is nothing to be compared with the succulent finlander, whose wishing-bone is not one inch long. having devoured a whole fowl for my dinner, i brought away the small bone as a memento of a ravenous appetite--unappeased by an entire spring chicken. brother sebastian smiled at the incident, and we tried to persuade him to change his mind and join us; he looked longingly at the modest dainties which seemed to bring back recollections of the days when he lived in the world, and enjoyed the pleasures thereof, but he only said-- "besten dank, meine dame, but my conscience will not let me eat such luxuries. i cannot take more than the church allows in fast times--the tea and bread is amply sufficient, for this is white bread, and that is a delicacy i have not tasted for years; all ours is black and sour. i should like to eat a sardine, but my conscience would kill me afterwards, you see." as we did not wish to kill the unsophisticated youth, we pressed him no further. what a picture we made, we four, in a far-away chamber of the _valamo_ monastery with that beautiful boy sitting on the queer coverleted couch. he told us that three years previously he had "made a fault." we did not ask of what nature, and he did not say; he only stated that his father who was a high official in the russian army, had, on the advice of the priest, sent him here to repent. "was it not very strange at first?" "yes, for you see we live in moscow, and my father knows every one, and there are many grand people always at our house. it seemed difficult to me because most of the inmates here are peasants, and once within the monastery walls we are all equal; we are all men, and god's servants. rank counts as nothing, for no one knows our names except the _igumen_ himself. when we enter we give up our garments, our money, our identity, and clothe ourselves as servants of the church until we leave again, or take the vows of monks and give up the world for ever." "how do you become monks?" we inquired, interested. "we cannot do so till we are thirty years of age--we are novices at first, and free to go away, but at thirty we can decide to take the vows, give up all we possess, and dedicate our lives to the church, if we desire to do so. then our name is struck off the police rolls." "you are lost, in fact?" "yes, lost to the world, for although while novices we can get away occasionally for a time on important business, once we become monks it is hardly possible to obtain leave of absence. a monk," he continued proudly, "wears a tall hat, has a room to himself, is waited upon by a probationer, sits at the upper table, and leads a much easier life as regards all kinds of work." he had spoken such splendid german, this fine young fellow with the sympathetic eyes, through which his very soul shone, that we again complimented him. "i used to speak some french," he said; "for we had a french governess, as children, and always spoke that language in the nursery; but since i have been here there has been so little occasion to employ it, i have quite forgotten that tongue. indeed, in four years--for i have stayed some months beyond my time of punishment--i find even my german, which, as i told you, is my mother's language, getting rusty, and i am not sure that i could write it in _latenischen-buchstaben_ now at all." "what a pity," we exclaimed, "that you do not read french and german so as to keep your knowledge up to date." "we are not allowed to read anything that is not in the cloister monastery," he replied, "which for the most part only contains theological books, with a few scientific works, and those are written in russian, hebrew, slavonic, and greek, so i have no chance, you see." "do you mean to say you have no opportunity of keeping up the knowledge you already possess?" "not that kind of knowledge. i love botany, but there are no books relating to botany here--so i am forgetting that also. we never read, even the monks seldom do." "but you have the newspapers," we remarked, horrified to think of a young intellect rotting and mouldering away in such a manner. "i have not seen a newspaper for nearly four years, never since i came here. we are not allowed such things." "but you said you were sent here for only three years' punishment--how does it happen you have remained for nearly four?" "because i chose to stay on; you see i have lost touch with the world. my parents sent me here against my will, now i stay here against their will, because they have unfitted me by the life i have led here for that from which i came." we listened appalled. "will you tell me some news, kind ladies?" he added, the while a mournful look came into his face, "for, as the _igumen_ said i might take you round to-day and stay with you, i should like to hear something to tell the others to-night." "what sort of news?" we asked, a lump rising in our throats as we realised the sadness of this young life. gently born and gently bred, educated as a gentleman, for nearly four years he had mixed with those beneath him, socially and intellectually, until he had almost reached their level. he lived with those by birth his inferiors, although he kept himself smart and clean and tidy. "oh!" he said, "i remember home rule was written about when i last saw the papers. home rule for ireland like one has in finland." hardly believing in his total innocence of the outer world, we asked-- "does no one ever really see a paper in this monastery?" "the _igumen_ does, i think, no one else; but i did hear, through visitors, that our young tzarwitch had been made tzar lately." oh! the pity of it all. talking to this beautiful boy was like speaking to a spirit from another world. we ransacked our brains as to what would interest an educated young man, whose knowledge of the events that had engrossed his fellows for four whole years was a perfect blank. "have you heard of horseless carriages and flying machines?" we asked. "no. what are they; what do you mean? don't joke, please, because every true word you say is of value to me, you see," he said, in an almost beseeching tone, with a wistful expression in his eyes. it was very touching, and we almost wept over his boyish pleasure at our description of modern doings. we told him of everything and anything we could think of, and he sat, poor lad, the while sipping tea without milk or sugar as though it were nectar, and eating white bread, as if the most tasty of french confections. "you _are_ good to me," he said; "you are kind to tell me," and tears sparkled in his eyes. "why, why," in distress we asked him, "do you stay here?" "it is very nice," he said, but we heard that strange ring again in the voice of that beautiful boy. "but to live here is selfish and wrong; you live for yourself, you do not teach the ignorant, or heal the sick; you bury yourself away from temptation, so there is no virtue in being good. ignorance is not virtue, it is knowledge tempered by abstinence that spells victory. you are educated in mind and strong in body; you could do much finer work for your god by going into the world than by staying at _valamo_. you ought to mix among your fellows, help them in their lives, and show them a good example in your own." "you think so?" he almost gasped, rising from his seat. "so help me, god! i have been feeling as much myself. i know there is something wrong in this reposeful life; i feel--i feel sometimes--and yet, _i am very happy here_." a statement it was quite impossible to believe. we spoke to him very earnestly, for there was something deeply touching about the lad, and then he repeated he was free to go if he chose. he explained that when his penance was performed and he was free to leave, some months before, he had become so accustomed to the life, so afraid of the world, that he chose to remain. but that, latterly, doubts began to trouble him, and now, well, he was glad to hear us talk; it had done him good, for he never, never before talked so much to strangers, and it was perhaps wrong for him to do so now. if such were the case, might heaven forgive him. "but come," he finished, as though desirous of changing the subject, "i must show you our refectory." we had become so entranced by the boy, his doubts and fears, that we rose reluctantly to follow the gaunt youth, whose bodily and mental strength seemed wasting away in that atmosphere of baleful repose. he showed us the great dining-hall where the wooden tables were laid for supper. there were no cloths; cloths being only used for great feast-days, and the simplicity was greater than a convict prison, and the diet far more strict. yet these men chose it of their own free will. no wonder our starving classes elect to live in prison at the country's expense during the cold winter months, and to sleep in our public parks during the summer; such a life is far preferable, more free and yet well cared for than that of the russian monk. little brown earthenware soup plates, with delicious pale-green glazed china linings, stood in front of every monk's place. benches without backs were their seats, and tall wooden boxes their salt-cellars. on each table stood a couple of large pewter soup-tureens filled with small beer; they drink from a sort of pewter soup ladle, which they replace on the edge of the pot after use. what about germ disease in such a place, o ye bacteriologists? but certainly the average monk looks very ill, even when presumably healthy! in the olden feudal days in england meals were arranged in precisely the same way, as may be seen to-day in college halls at the universities or the london temple. here in the monastery the raised dais at the end was occupied by the _igumen_, seated on a chair of state; his most important monks were next him, then came the lower grades, and below the wooden salts sat the novices and apprentices. three meals a day are served in this hall, a long grace preceding and closing each, and a certain number of the younger men are told off to wait on the others, which they have to do as silently as possible, while portions of the bible are read out by a monk during each meal from a high desk. after leaving the dining-room we went over the workshops, where in winter everything of every sort is made; these four hundred and seventy men--if they do not work for the outer world--work for themselves and their island home. they build their churches and other edifices, make the bricks and mortar, their coats and clothes, their boots and shoes, mould their pottery, carve their wooden church ornamentations, shape them in plaster, or beat them in metal. there are goldsmiths and joiners, leather tanners and furriers, amongst them, and during the long dreary frozen winters they all ply these trades. verily a small body of socialists, each working for the general good of the little colony. it is then they make the sacred pictures, the _ikons_ for which the monastery is famous, which, together with rosaries and photos, are sold during the summer months to visitors. when these things are disposed of the monks count their profits and make their bills by the aid of coloured balls on a frame, such as children sometimes learn to count with. there are five red balls on one bar, five yellow on another, etc., and by some deft and mysterious movement of these balls the monk, like any ordinary russian shopkeeper, quickly makes up his bills and presents his account. "you must come in one of our pilgrim boats to another of our islands," said our friend sebastian, to which proposal we readily agreed. what a boat it was! talk of the old viking ships that sailed to america or iceland, and held a couple of hundred persons. the _valamo_ pilgrim's boat did not fall far short in bulk and capacity of those old historic craft. six oars on each side, and three or four men at each, with plenty of room in the well, or at the stern and bows, for another hundred persons to stow themselves away. we were not pilgrims, and the _igumen_ had kindly ordered a steam launch to tug us. some fifty or sixty other visitors took advantage of the occasion and accompanied us on our "water party." it was certainly very beautiful and most unique. monks in all ages and all countries have ever seemed to pitch upon the most lovely spots of mother earth in which to plant their homes, and our friends at _valamo_ were not behind in this respect. we were amazed at the beautiful waterways, constantly reminding us of the backwaters in the thames. on the banks we passed farms; splendid-looking creameries, where all the milk was now being made into butter or cheese for the winter--luxuries denied, as has been said before, to _valamo_ during the fasting season. we came to a primitive pier, where the trees hung right over the sides, the leaves dipping into the water. it was very secluded, very beautiful, and wonderfully reposeful. our path lay through a lovely wood, where wild flowers grew in profusion, among them a kind of wild orchid with a delicious perfume, and the small wild arum lily. it is strange that such rare plants should grow there, when one remembers that for six or eight months of the year the land is ice-bound. on the island we visited a small church, within the sacred precincts of which no woman's foot dare tread, but we had a peep at another chapel where a hermit once lived. he never spoke to any one for seven years, and slept nightly in his coffin, in which he was not buried, however, it being necessary to keep the article for visitors to gaze upon. on our return we much enjoyed a cup of tea in our cloister chamber, where the russian _samovar_ was boiling in readiness. it was not long ere the sonorous monastery bell tolled six, and every one turned towards the church for service, which was to last till about nine o'clock--service of that duration being a daily occurrence. every one stands the whole of the time. after nine o'clock the monks and novices go to bed, but at three a.m. the great bell rings and they all have to get up again for another service, which lasts for two or three hours more. altogether at _valamo_ about five or six hours out of every twenty-four are spent in prayer. during the winter months every one in the monastery has to be present at both the day and night services, namely, stand or kneel on bare flags in the church for the time just mentioned. in summer the authorities are not so strict, and provided all attend the service every night, and the second one two or three times a week, nothing is said about a couple or so being missed. being a monastery church, all the men stood on one side, the women, visitors, and pilgrims on the other, during the service at which we were present. afterwards, in the greek churches in st. petersburg, we found that the sexes were not divided in this manner. it was the first time we had participated at a russian service, and the chief impression left on our minds was the endless movement of the congregation. they were everlastingly crossing themselves, not once, but two or three times running, and every few minutes they all did it again; then about every twelfth person would kneel down, and putting his hands on the floor before him touch the ground with his forehead like the mohammedans when they pray to the prophet, and tell their beads as true monks tell theirs. one man we watched go down _forty times running_ and cross himself three times between each reverence! a penance, no doubt, but a penance unlikely to do any one much good, at least so we could not help thinking. again, a woman, a poor fat old pilgrim, who got on her knees with the greatest difficulty, remained with her forehead on the ground for at least five minutes, till we really began to wonder if she were dead; but at last she rose after some trouble, for we had to help her up, and we fervently hoped that was the end of her penance, poor old soul. not a bit of it; a quarter of an hour afterwards she was down again and when we left she was still praying. then a strange-looking sort of priest came and stood beside us, instead of joining the other men who clustered round the _igumen's_ throne or before the altar. after scrutinising him for some time, surprised at a man standing among the women, we discovered _he_ was a _she_ come on a pilgrimage to pray. she of strange garb was an abbess! the reverence in the greek church is far more living than it now is in the church of rome, though outwardly both are so much alike to the outsider. the catholic priests cannot marry, while the priests in the greek church may do so. we were getting very tired of standing listening to the monotonous reading of the psalms, watching the priests walking about in their long black robes, taking their hats off and on, and endlessly kneeling or bowing to the great _igumen_ who stood during the whole ceremony on a carved wooden throne covered with scarlet velvet. the singing was very unequal. the choirs came in from both sides of the altar twice, and formed themselves into a half circle on the floor of the church--as choirs used to do at the representations of the greek plays of old. we were well-nigh suffocated with incense and the strange odour that emanates from a russian peasant, and had begun to think of those queer little wooden beds in which we were to pass the night--and what a contrast the primitive cell was to that gorgeous glittering church--when we saw our "beautiful boy" beckoning to us. we followed him out. "i have bad news for you," he said; "your boat for to-morrow is to leave to-night--in half an hour." "why?" we asked, aghast. "the other passengers desire to leave to-night and proceed by way of the _holy island_ back to _sordavala_; they all wish it, so the captain is going." "but is there no other boat for us?" "none to-morrow," he replied. "but it was arranged to leave to-morrow," we faltered. "we took our tickets on that understanding; we have unpacked here; we are prepared for a night in a monastery, and have given up our rooms at _sordavala_." "it is of no avail," he said; "the greatest number carry the day here, and the others all want to go. i have done my best, but it is of no use." we rushed to our cloister-chamber, bundled our things into a bag, and marched off to the boat, sorry indeed to miss our night in the monastery, and still more sorry to leave that beautiful youth behind on his island home, an island which rises solitary from one of the deepest parts of the vast _ladoga_ lake--rises like a pyramid over a thousand feet through the water, and yet remains almost hillless on the surface, though covered with dense foliage. as we glided over the perfectly still water, we saw the blue domes of the new church in the sunlight, towering above the woods like the guardian angel of the island. we had made friends with several of the monks who spoke a little french or german, and who came to see us off and wish us a pleasant journey. they followed our steamer along the banks and waved good-bye again and again, especially brother sebastian, who had spent nearly twelve hours in our company during that glorious summer day. what would become of him, we wondered. would he waste his life among those men, so few of whom were, socially or intellectually, his equals, or would he return to the world? drops of water make the ocean, and grains of sand build up the universe: would he, atom though he was, return to his position in society, lead an honest, noble, virtuous life, and by his influence help his nation? _holy island_ was perhaps more beautiful than _valamo_, and although so near to _valamo_ the natural features were entirely changed. here the rocks rose straight out of the water for a hundred feet or more, like a perpendicular wall, but lying very much deeper under the sea, as the iceberg does--they were such strange rocks, they looked as if they were sliced down straight by man's hand, instead of being nature's own work. we landed and walked along a wonderful pathway, hewn out of the side of the solid rock, from which we looked sheer down into the water below; here and there the path was only made of wooden plankings, which joined one rock to another over some yawning chasm below. suddenly we came upon a cave, a strange wee place about fifteen feet long and four wide, where a holy friar had once lived and prayed, although it was so low he was unable to stand upright. an altar still remains with its ever-burning lamp, but the religious element was rather spoilt, when a couple of monks met us and asked the gentlemen for cigars, though smoking is prohibited by their sect. on this island the wild arum lilies we had before noticed grew profusely, while the vegetation everywhere was beautiful, and yet eight or ten feet of snow covered the ground all through the long winter. as we left _holy island_, it was past ten o'clock at night, and yet what could that be? we were far away from land, and still there seemed to be land quite close to us. what could it mean? it was a mirage. such a mirage is sometimes seen on the vast _ladoga_ lake as in the plains of egypt, and vastly beautiful it was. a fitting ending to a strangely beautiful day we thought, as we softly glided over the water. it was the longest day of the year, and when at eleven p.m. we neared _sordavala_ the sun had not set. its glorious reflections and warm colourings stirred our hearts' inmost depths, and bathed us in a sweet content as we sat silent and awed, dreaming of the strangely pathetic story of that beautiful boy. chapter v sordavala, or a musical festival terror had entered our souls when we read in the _nya pressen_, the day before leaving for the musical festival at _sordavala_, the following: "_sordavala_ has only thirteen hundred inhabitants, and some ten thousand people have arrived for the _juhla_. they are sleeping on floors and tables, and any one who can get even a share in a bed must be more than satisfied. food cannot be procured, and general discomfort reigns." this was not cheerful; indeed the prospect seemed terrible, more especially when, after getting up at five o'clock, and driving some miles to _wiborg_, we arrived at the station only to find the train crammed from end to end, and not a chance of a seat anywhere. confusion reigned, every one was struggling with every one else for places, and the scrimmage was as great as though it were "a cheap trip to margate and back" in the height of the season. there were only second and third-class carriages, with a sort of fourth, which was said to hold "forty men or eight horses," and had no windows, but was provided with rough benches and odd boxes for the passengers to sit on. in such a terrible railway carriage all the members of the brass band travelled with their music stands and instruments. we ran from end to end of the platform in despair. it was the only train of the day, and _full_. even frau von lilly, with all her swedish and all her finnish, could not succeed in finding places. at last an official stepped forward, and, touching his hat, remarked-- "there are no seats to be had in any compartment, but, as so many persons desire to go on, we shall probably send a relief train in an hour." "are we to wait on the chance of 'probably'?" "yes, i think you must. in fact, i am almost sure you must; but in any case you cannot go in that; it is just off." and sure enough away steamed number one before the stolid finns could make up their minds to despatch number two; nevertheless, an hour afterwards the relief train was ready and comparatively empty, so we travelled in peace. all these slow arrangements and avoidances of committal to any announcement of fact, constantly reminded us of scotland--indeed, it is quite remarkable how closely a finn and a highlander resemble each other in appearance, in stolid worth, and dogged deliberation; how they eat porridge or _gröt_, oatcake or _knäckebröd_, and have many other strange little peculiarities of manner and diet in common. we got under weigh at last, and settled down for a few restful hours in a comfortable finnish railway carriage. the train, ever dignified and deliberate of pace, had just passed _jaakkima_ in the south-east of finland, almost due north from petersburg. the heat was great that june day, and here and there, as the engine puffed through the pine forests, dense columns of smoke rising from the woods near the railway lines alarmed all who beheld, and warned the neighbouring peasants to dig trenches, which alone could stay the fierce flames, rapidly gathering force, that meant destruction. at many stations we paused, not necessarily for passengers to alight or ascend, but to stock our engine with fuel. there, stacked high and wide and broad, was the wood cut into pieces about two feet long, intended to feed our locomotive, and a couple of men were always in readiness to throw it into the tender as quickly as possible, compatible with the slowness of the finn. the heat in the train was so intense that it made us feel drowsy, but, as we fortunately had the end compartment in the corridor-carriage, we were able to open the door and get a breath of air. a bridge somewhat insecure-looking joined us to the next waggon, and a very amusing scene presented itself. the guard was flirting with a finnish maid, a typical peasant, with a comely figure, set off by a well-fitting bodice. she had high cheek-bones and a wondrous round moon face; a large, good-tempered mouth filled with beautiful teeth, a good complexion, and weak, thin, straight flaxen hair, combed back from a very high forehead. she wore the usual handkerchief over her head. had she been dark instead of fair, judging by the width of her face and the lines of her eyes, she might have been a chinese; but to an english mind she appeared anything but beautiful, although clean and healthy looking. she, like many others of her class, had the neatest hands and feet imaginable, although the latter were encased in black mohair boots with elastic sides, a very favourite foot-covering in finland. all along the line there ran a sort of tumbledown wooden fencing, loosely made, and about four or five feet high, meant to keep back the snow in winter. the very thought of snow was refreshing on that broiling day. as we gasped with the heat, and pondered over the scrambled meal at _jaakkima_, we listened to the strangely sad but entrancing singing of a number of peasants in the next waggon, all bound like ourselves for _sordavala_, although they were really rehearsing for the festival, while we were drowsily proceeding thither merely as spectators. how they flirted those two on the bridge outside our carriage. spite of the hard outlines of her face, and her peculiarly small finnish eyes, the maiden managed to ogle and smile upon the guard standing with his hands upon the rail; so slender was the support, that it seemed as if he might readily fall off the train and be killed by the wheels below. the flirtation was not only on her side, for presently he took her hand, a fat little round hand, with a golden circle upon one of the fingers, which denoted betrothal or marriage, and pressed it fondly. we could not understand their finnish speech; but there is a language comprehensible to all, in every clime. that the pair were in love no one could for a moment doubt, and that they heeded nothing of those quaint old finnish chants, distinctly audible from the opposite carriage, was evident, for they talked on and on. we passed _niva_; here and there the waters of a lake glinted in the sunshine, or a river wound away to the sea, strewn with floating wood, as though its waters were one huge raft. the singing ceased; save the merry laugh of the finnish girl, nothing but the click-cluck-click of the wheels was audible. the guard leaned over her, whispered in her ear, then, as if yielding to some sudden impulse, pressed her to his heart; and, still to the accompaniment of that endless click-cluck-click, implanted a kiss on her full round lips. for a moment they stood thus, held in warm embrace, muttering those sweet nothings which to lovers mean all the world. suddenly the door behind them opened, and one of the singers, nervous and excited from the long practice of his national airs, came upon the bridge to let the gentle zephyrs cool his heated brow. all smiles, this sunburnt blonde, whose hair fell in long locks, cut off straight, like the ancient saints in pictures, stood before us--his pink flannel shirt almost matching the colour of his complexion. in a moment all was changed; his happy smile vanished into a glance of deadly hate, the colour fled from his face, leaving him ashy-pale, fire literally shot from his eyes as he gazed upon his affianced bride; but he did not speak. his hand violently sought his belt, and in a moment the long blade of one of those scandinavian _puukko_--knives all peasants use--gleamed in the sunshine. for an instant he balanced it on high, and then, with a shriek more wild than human, he plunged the blade deep down into his betrothed's white breast. like a tiger the guilty guard sprang upon him; madly they fought while the girl lay still and senseless at their feet, a tiny stream of blood trickling from her breast. northern rage once roused is uncontrollable; and there, on the bridge of the moving train, those two men struggled for mastery, till--yes, yes--the light railing gave way, and together the hater and the hated fell over the side, and were cut to pieces by the wheels. what a moment! a groan, a piercing shriek, rent the air! then, with a gasp, hot and cold, and wet by turns, i woke to find it was all a dream! * * * * * the run to _sordavala_ proved a hot and tedious journey of seven hours, but even dusty railway journeys must come to an end, and we arrived at our destination in eastern finland about three o'clock. the crowd at the country station was horrible, and the clamour for cabs, carts, and the general odds and ends of vehicles in waiting to transfer us to our destination, reminded us much of ober ammergau on a smaller scale. this _sordavala_ festival is really the outcome of an old religious ceremony, just as the welsh eisteddfod is a child of druidical meetings for prayer and song. in ancient days bards sang and prayed, and now both in finland and in england the survival is a sort of musical competition. our eisteddfod, encouraged by the landed proprietors of wales, forms a useful bond between landlord and tenant, employer and employed. it is held yearly, in different towns, and prizes are given for choir singing, for which fifty to a hundred voices will assemble from one village, all the choirs joining together in some of the great choruses. rewards are also given for knitting, for the best national costumes, for solo singing, violin and harp playing, for original poems in welsh, and for recitations. in finland the competition, strangely enough, also takes place once a year, and dates back to the old _runo_ singers, who orally handed down the national music from generation to generation. each time the festival is, as in wales, held in a different town, the idea being to raise the tastes of the populace, and to encourage the practice of music among a thoroughly musical people. clubs or choirs are sent from all corners of finland to compete; the old national airs--of which there are hundreds, ay thousands--are sung, and that unique native instrument the _kantele_ is played. for hundreds of years these _runo_ singers have handed on the songs of their forefathers by word of mouth, and have kept their history alive. it was _elias lönnrot_ who collected these _kantele_ songs. for years and years he travelled about the country gathering them together by ear and word of mouth, and, having weeded out the repetitions, he edited the famous epical _kalevala_, and later collected quantities of other lyric ballads from the heathen times, and published them as _kanteletar_. thus much ancient music and verse was revived that had almost been forgotten. but of this we must speak in the next chapter. that finland is thoroughly musical may be inferred from the dozens of choirs sent to the _sordavala_ festival from all parts of the country. the peasant voices, in spite of being but slightly trained, or at all events trained very little, sing together wonderfully. indeed, it was surprising to find how they could all take their proper parts, and keep to them; but the supreme delight, perhaps, of the festival was the student corps, composed of fifty men from the university of _helsingfors_, who sang together most beautifully, the choir being conducted by one of themselves. they had some glorious voices among them, and as they sang the national airs of finland, marching backwards and forwards to the park, their feet keeping time with their music, the effect of their distant singing in the pine-woods was most enthralling. strangely enough, when they went to sing on the public platform raised in the park for the occasion, they wore evening dress and white gloves. dress-clothes are somewhat of a rarity in finland, as they are in many other continental countries; but there they stood in a semicircle on the dais, each man with his white velvet student cap in his hand, and, to the spectators, standing a little in the distance, the effect of snowy-white shirt, white gloves, and white cap shown up in the glancing sunbeams by black clothes, was somewhat funny. the performers met with tremendous applause, and certainly deserved it. although german students often sing beautifully, and are indeed famous for their rendering of the _volkslieder_, those from _helsingfors_ sang as well if not better. we often dined at the same hotel where they lodged, during the week, and when they marched in they sang a grace. after they had finished their dinner, they generally, before leaving, sang two or three songs by special request of visitors dining at the various tables. morning, noon, and night those students sang! small bands of them went to meet the trains coming in, if they expected friends, and stood upon the platform lustily singing their welcome. they went to see other friends off, and, amidst much doffing of caps, they sang farewell songs. they marched in torchlight processions--although the torches were not very successful when all was daylight--and everywhere they went they met with the greatest enthusiasm. modern singing at the festival, in parts and glees, was very good, showing the great musical talent of the people, while especially delightful were the out-of-door concerts. another charm of the festival consisted in the exhibition of peasants' work. as we entered the museum where we were to hear the _kantele_ concert, we stood transfixed. at a bare wooden table a quite, quite old man with long-flowing locks was sitting with his elbows on the boards, his hands stretched over his _kantele_, which he was playing delightfully. the small flat musical instrument reminded one of the zither of tyrol, while the strange airs bore some similarity to the bagpipe music of scotland, at least in time, which, like the piper, the old man beat with his foot. his blue eyes were fixed on the wall opposite, with a strange, weird, far-off look, and never for one moment did he relax his gaze. he seemed absolutely absorbed by his music, and as the queer old figure--a sort of moses with his long beard--played his native instrument, amid the quaint trappings of the museum for background, we felt enthralled by the sombre surroundings and curious apparition, who might have been _wäinämöinen_ himself, the mythological god of music in finland. others followed; they all played charmingly, and their usually sombre faces seemed quite changed by the sounds of music. music has always played an important part in the history of finland--for good be it owned, and not, as tolstoi suggested, to arouse the vilest passions. look at the faces of the people dowered with such legends. the _runo_ singers live in another world from ours. theirs is the land of poetry and romance; theirs the careless, happy dream of life. the things of this world, the sordid littleness, the petty struggles, the very fight for bread, they wot not of, for they are content with little. socialism and syndicalism have not robbed them of life's joys. they sit and sing, and dream. see the far-away look on yon man's features; see how intensely he gazes on some vision painted visibly for him on the blank wall. his very face and mind seem transported to other realms. as the song rises and falls his expression alters, and when he strikes those stirring chords on the _kantele_ and speaks of bloodshed and war his whole being seems changed. we noticed one peculiarity with the _runo_ singers, viz., that each vocalist repeated the whole line twice. for instance-- "the old man fished." all the others took up the word "fished," and then every one present sang the whole of the line a second time in company with the original singer, again repeating the word _fished_ at the end alone. after that the original singer took up the next line by himself, his friends repeating the last word, ere joining him in the repetition of the line itself. this seemed to be a speciality, for we noticed it again and again, and, as the performers all chanted well together, the effect was delightful; at the same time the practice unduly lengthens the progress of the songs, some of which go on for hours in a dull, monotonous recitative. we always had to cross the river at _sordavala_ whenever we went out to dinner, or attended any of the concerts, as our home was on one bank and the representations and restaurant on the other, and one old russian boatman was particularly attentive in waiting about for us at the hours when he thought it likely we should require to be ferried over. his bark was decorated, like all the other craft at _sordavala_, with silver birch, which, as we knew, is sacred in finland, and great branches of its silver boughs were cut to ornament the _kuiru_ (native boats). it was wonderful what a pretty effect this gave, for they were not little boughs, but great branches stuck on the rowlocks in such a manner as to make the boat appear a veritable bower. when several craft were on the water together, they had the effect of a beautiful picture, with the red and pink shirts of the boatmen, and the white or black handkerchiefs over the women's heads. our old russian was a wonderful-looking individual, with shaggy grisly locks which fell in regular ringlets upon his shoulders--the sort of man one would love to paint. every wrinkle upon his face was italicised by dirt, and his faded red shirt appeared a dream of colour for an artist's eye. he was much interested in us all, and at last he ventured to ask frau von lilly where the ladies came from. "england," she replied in russian. "ah! i know about england," he returned; "it has many big towns, and they are strong towns. england is much afraid that our tzar might take those big towns." "do you think so?" "yes, _i know_; but the ladies do not look english, they are so dark. is it the fierce sun of their country that has burned them so black?" we laughed; we had heard of many things, but not often of "the fierce sun of england." "_you_ are not english?" he went on, addressing our friend. "no," replied frau von lilly, "i am a finlander." "you? why, you speak russian, and you are dark, too; your face is not like a finn's, it is not wide enough, and your hair is too black. he," pointing to grandpapa, "is a finlander, and looks like one." fancy such observations from an old russian boatman. the same wonderful interest in our concerns and welfare was, however, evinced on all sides. the whole town of _sordavala_ had positively thrilled with excitement when the committee of the fête learned that some english people were coming to their festival. instantly that committee wrote to say they would do everything they could for the visitors' "komfort," which they certainly did. they gave us the best rooms in the place, they opened their museums for us that we might view them, privately, they gave us _runo_ singing entertainments with ourselves for sole audience, they found seats for us in the theatre when every seat was sold, and they treated us in all ways as though we had been princesses. but everything we said was noted, and everything we did cautiously watched; therefore for a short time we tasted something of the horrors of that publicity which must be the bane of existence to royalty. long after we had left _sordavala_ we happened to refer to that town when conversing with some friends. "isn't it amusing?" one of them observed. "i saw in the paper the other day that some english people who went to _sordavala_ for the festival, had written beforehand a letter to the manager of the committee to say "they required a suite of apartments, not higher than the third floor, with a bathroom." we could not help smiling. it was the old story of "the three black crows" over again! we had been the only english people at the festival, we had never written a line ourselves to any member of the committee; a native friend had done so for us, however, saying "that rooms would be required for three ladies, two english, and one finnish." one of the features of the festival which interested us the most was a representation, at a little improvised theatre, of a typical modern finnish play, by finnish actors. _anna liisa_ was the piece chosen, because it was a peasant drama. it is written by one of finland's greatest dramatists--perhaps the greatest in the finnish language--and a woman! it was only a small impromptu theatre, packed to suffocation by a most wonderfully sympathetic audience, but as the play was very representative, we give a slight sketch of the subject. the curtain rose on a little peasant log-hut with its huge chimney, where over a small native stove heated by wood, pots were boiling. fixed to a chair was a spinning machine, made of wood and shaped like an umbrella, which twisted round and round, while the bride-elect, with her fair hair hanging down in a plait, sat upon the stage. her fiancé says how happy they will be in three weeks when they are married; but _anna liisa_, although desperately in love with her betrothed, hangs back, and refuses to sit upon his knee. at last _johannes_ coaxes her to his side, and expresses huge delight at the prospect of their future. he tells her how he loves her with a never-fading love, is certain of her goodness, and that she has never loved any one else; he warmly praises her virtue; but, nevertheless, as he speaks, she shudders. immediately an old woman comes in (_husso_), the mother of _mikko_, a man with whom _anna liisa_ had formerly had some relations; her words are of evil import, for she tells the girl if she marries _johannes_, who has just left the room, she will do her harm. _anna_ pretending not to care, the old woman becomes furious and threatens her. "i shall tell of your intrigue with my son. i have but to whisper of a----" "mother, no, no." "but i can, and i will, and more than that, may speak of----" the girl implores, tells of her real, honest love for _johannes_, beseeches _mikko's_ mother to hold her peace, but the woman is obdurate. _anna_ suffers tortures when left alone with her little sister, because the girl will talk of the delights of the coming wedding, and how nice it would be if _anna liisa_ had a child for her to dress like a doll. the bride's father and mother, who know nothing of their daughter's intrigue, come and drink coffee, and like true peasants they pour the coffee into a saucer, and putting a bit of sugar into their mouths imbibe the beverage through it, supporting the saucer on five fingers. thus happily they all sit together--a real representation of life in a peasant home. in the midst of it all the former lover, _mikko_, who was once a servant on the farm, comes in and is very insulting to the bridegroom-elect, and very insinuating to _anna liisa_. at last _johannes_ gets angry; threats ensue. _mikko_ says "that he was once engaged to a girl and intends to have her" (looking pointedly at _anna liisa_). it seems as if the whole story would be revealed, but at that moment the little sister rushes in to say _mikko's_ horse has run away, and he goes off, leaving the bride and bridegroom alone, when the former implores _johannes_ to trust her always and in everything, which he promises to do, greatly wondering the while at her request. when the second act opens the father and mother are discussing before _anna liisa_ her own virtues. they say what a good wife their child will make, they lay stress upon her honesty, integrity, and truthfulness, and while the words sink into the guilty girl's heart like gall and wormwood, she sits and knits with apparent calmness. at last, however, the parents leave the room, and while she is thinking of following them, in comes _mikko_. finding herself alone with _mikko_ the poor girl entreats him to leave her, to leave her in peace and happiness to marry the man she loves, and if possible to forget her guilty past. "if you marry me you will get peace," he says. "no. nor shall i ever know peace again," she replies; "but i may have some happiness." at this moment her fiancé enters the room. _mikko_ seizes the opportunity to tell him there is a secret between them that will disturb the happiness of all his future life. the girl appeals to _mikko_ by looks and gesticulations, but each time he manages to evade her gaze, and utters such strange insinuations that at last _johannes_ exclaims-- "this is too much!" and a desperate quarrel ensues. _anna liisa_ wishes to speak alone with _mikko_. to this _johannes_ objects, thinking that _anna liisa_ ought not to have any secret with _mikko_ unknown to him. then the whole family bundles home, having been to the store to buy things for the approaching festival. "the matter is so," says _mikko_, "that _anna liisa_ was my bride four years ago. and now i come to take her, but that fellow has in the meantime----" _the father._ "your bride! that's a lie." _the mother._ "good gracious! you want me to believe all kinds of things--_anna liisa_--who then was only fifteen years old. don't listen to such things, _johannes_. they're only senseless chat. i'll warrant that they have no foundation whatever. besides, others would certainly have noticed had any such relations existed between them." _mikko._ "it was not noticed. we succeeded in concealing it so well that nobody had the slightest idea." _the father._ "shut up, _mikko_, ere i get furious. that my daughter should have secret intrigues with a groom. fie, for shame! how dare you spread such vile slander. had it concerned any other!--but _anna liisa_, whom everybody knows to be the most steady and honourable girl in the whole neighbourhood. that you can be so impudent. for shame, i say once more." _mikko._ "ask _anna liisa_ herself if i have spoken truth or falsehood." _the father._ "can't you open your mouth, girl? clear yourself from such disgusting insults." _the mother._ "defend yourself, _anna liisa_." _johannes._ "say that he lies, and i will believe you." matters have gone too far. the disclosure cannot be put off. broken-hearted she only exclaims-- "oh, good god!" _mikko_ in his mad rage fetches his old mother, who corroborates all he has said, and tells the story of _anna liisa's_ guilt, adding-- "and she could have been put in prison." "why?" they all cry in chorus. "because she murdered her child." _anna liisa_ says nothing for a time, but finally she falls on her knees before her father and implores his pardon. then she confesses that everything the woman has said is true, even the accusation that she murdered her own child. her father snatches up a hatchet and tries to kill her, in which attempt he would have succeeded had not _mikko_ interfered and dragged her away. when the third act opens the father, mother, and fiancé are found discussing the situation, and finally deciding to let their friends come to the congratulatory festival on first reading of the banns, and pretend that nothing unusual had happened. afterwards they could rearrange the relationship. the mother, who had been watching _anna liisa_, is afraid of her curious apathetic behaviour, and looks out of the window, when she sees her setting off in a boat, apparently with the purpose of self-destruction. she and the fiancé rush off to save her and bring her home. the girl explains in wild despair how she thought she saw her child under the water, and intended to jump in and rescue him. she raves somewhat like ophelia in _hamlet_, but her former lover _mikko_ comes back to her, and whispers in her ear. she rejects him violently. "let me get away from here," she murmurs to her mother, "let me get away," and a very sad and touching scene ensues. the little sister bounds in straight from church, and says how lovely it was to hear the banns read, and to think the wedding was so near. she decorates the room with wreaths of pine branches, and festoons of the birch-tree, such festoons as we make into trails with holly and ivy for christmas decorations. she jumps for joy as the guests begin to arrive, and in this strange play the father actually thinks it right for his daughter to marry _mikko_, her seducer, whom he welcomes, and they arrange affairs comfortably between them. this is very remarkable. in most countries it would be considered right for the father to expel his daughter's lover from his house; but in this play of _minna canth's_ she draws a very finnish characteristic. "_se oli niin sallittu_" ("it is so ordained") is a sort of motto amongst this northern people. whether it is that they are phlegmatic, wanting in energy, fatalists, or what, one cannot say, but certain it is that they sit down and accept the inevitable as calmly as the mohammedan does when he remarks: "it is the will of allah." the festivities proceed. an old fiddler and more peasants appear. the men sit down on one side of the room, the women on the other, and the former lover, _mikko_, thinking himself the bridegroom-elect, cheerfully invites every one to dance. the old fiddler strikes up a merry air, and they dance the _jenka_, a sort of schottische, joyously. gaiety prevails, the girl's father being apparently as happy as his guests, when the door opens and the rector of the parish and other distinguished guests enter. "where is the bride?" it is asked. no one knew exactly how to answer; _johannes_ no longer wishes to marry her, and she refuses to marry her former lover, _mikko_. again the priest asks: "where is the bride?" after waiting some time the door opens slowly. _anna liisa_ enters and is greeted--as is usual on such occasions--by cries of _eläköön, eläköön_ (let her live!) in chorus. answering with the unusual words: "let god's holy spirit live in us!" the girl advanced into the room and stood before them, robed in the black gown which it is the fashion for peasant brides in finland to wear. the clergyman addressed her as a bride. "i am not a bride," she replies, as she stands sadly alone in her black robe. "what do you mean? the banns have just been read," he asks. "all is broken off between _johannes_ and me," she tragically replies, and then, turning to the clergyman, she says: "my conscience won't keep it any longer; for four years long i have----" _mikko_ and his mother try all they can to prevent her speaking. but the clergyman, seeing the girl wishes to say something, thrusts them aside and exhorts her to proceed. "i am a great sinner," says the girl tremulously. a breathless silence seizes every one present as _anna_ continues, "four years ago i had a child, in the forest yonder, and, i, poor creature, i killed it." at this juncture a bailiff, who chanced to be of the company, rises and inquires if her parents knew this at the time. "no," she answers in her clear and dulcet tones, "they knew nothing." turning to her heartbroken parents with great earnestness, she says: "father and mother, do not grieve for me! do not sorrow! i am not in trouble any more. you see how glad i am. never in my life have i felt so happy." _johannes_ (touched). "_anna liisa_----!" _the father._ "don't you then consider the disgrace you have brought over our gray hair?" _anna liisa._ "i repent. forgive me! oh, that i could once make good what i have done wrong!" the mistress of ristola and other guests express their sympathy with the parents. _mikko_ (aside to _husso_). "there's nothing more to be done. things must have their course. let us be off!" [_exeunt._ _the father._ "oh, that i could get into my grave! that's my only hope." _rector._ "not so, dear friends, not so! you have no reason for sorrow at this moment, but gladness and joy. the spirit of god has been working in your daughter and has gained the victory. do not look upon this matter as the world does, but from a higher standpoint. until to-day _anna liisa_ has erred. now she has found the right way. let us thank and praise the lord of heaven!" _mistress of ristola._ "yes, it is truly so. it is a chastisement for the flesh, but not to the spirit." _the father._ "we are shortsighted, we human beings. we do not always comprehend the purposes of the almighty." _the mother._ "and the earthly mind always seeks to govern." _rector._ "let us strive the more to progress in the life of the spirit, and by god's help we can win like _anna liisa_ (grasping _anna liisa's_ hand). yes, go in peace, my child. go where your conscience compels you to go, and the heavenly father strengthen you that you may hold out to the end. we did congratulate you on a less important change in external life, but a thousand times more warmly do we congratulate you on the change in your inner life." _doctor._ "i agree with the rector. good-bye!" _anna liisa_ (embracing first her father and then her mother). "good-bye, father! good-bye, mother! good-bye! good-bye all!" _chorus._ "good-bye, we wish you happiness." _johannes._ "_anna liisa_, won't you bid me farewell?" _anna liisa._ "certainly! good-bye, _johannes_." _johannes._ "the lord keep you, _anna liisa_. but one word more--you are as pure and good in heart as i thought you from the first." _anna liisa._ "thank you for your kindness.... i have found everlasting life and happiness. now, mr. bailiff, i am ready, give me the severest punishment you can. i am ready to meet it all." _rector._ "she is following the everlasting road. blessed is she." _curtain._ the idea of this very strange play has been undoubtedly taken from one of tolstoi's well-known books, but _minna canth_ herself is a great writer. she seizes the subtleties of life, draws character with a strong hand, and appreciates the value of dramatic situations. no wonder the finlanders admire a woman who writes in their own tongue, and feel proud of her as one of themselves. never have i seen an audience weep so much as the audience wept that night at the _suomalainen teaatteri_ (finnish theatre): they positively sobbed. was it that they seldom saw a play, or was it that the generally phlegmatic finn once roused is really intensely emotional? possibly if the fact were known, the minds of those spectators were not so actively engaged in criticism, that they could not appreciate healthy enjoyment. but as much cannot be said for a fashionable blasé audience, which is too bored to care to be entertained. chapter vi "kalevala," an epic poem many strange customs still linger in east finland, probably because the inhabitants, far removed from civilisation, cling tenaciously to the traditions and usages of their forefathers. as a fitting ending therefore to the _sordavala_ festival, an accurate representation of a native wedding of a hundred years ago was given, perhaps for the reason that the performers were thus naturally enabled to introduce many of the bridal songs contained in their great epic poem, _kalevala_, and their collection of lyric poems called _kanteletar_. the open-air stage was cleverly arranged, and the performance proved really a dramatic representation of music we had heard the delightful _runo_ singers chanting for days. they were old _runo_ bards, however, and as it was feared their voices would not reach the eight or ten thousand people assembled in the open-air arena, younger and stronger folk had been taught the different roles by them. the wedding festivities were unlike anything to which we are accustomed. they began with a formal betrothal. in a log hut sat the bride's family, the mother spinning at one of the wooden erections so closely resembling an oar. the father and his friends were meantime gathered round a table drinking small beer (_kalja_) from large wooden pots, or rather buckets, called _haarikka_. each man helped himself out of the _haarikka_ by dipping into that vessel the usual wooden spoon and sipping its contents, after which performance he replaced the spoon in the bucket. thus happily occupied sat the family till the bridegroom and his friends arrived. it is not considered proper for an intending bridegroom ever to propose in person, consequently a spokesman has always to be employed, who expatiates on the many excellent qualities possessed by the modest lover. even the spokesman, however, deems it strict etiquette at first to prevaricate concerning the real nature of his errand, and consequently the actor told a cock-and-bull story about the purchase of a horse; rather a transparent bit of make-believe considering the matter had been quietly arranged previously. at last, after some ridiculous talk about that imaginary horse, a formal request was made for the daughter's hand, and finally the bride herself appeared, solemnly led in as if a prisoner. silent and alone, with head bent sadly down, she stood in the middle of the room till asked if she were willing "to marry this man?" when, without looking up, she answered "yes." then the "weeping woman" who is hired for such occasions--just as in days, happily gone by, english families used to hire mutes for funerals--put her arm round the bride's waist, and, with bowed head, swinging her body to and fro the while, began in a most melancholy voice to sing "the bride's lament to her home." the paid professional chants the words of the _kalevala_, which are supposed to embody every bride's sentiments, implores her parents not to hurry her away. she begs her brother to keep her, not to let the breach between them be so large as the _ladoga_ lake; might she remain even so long in her father's house as it will take to catch the fish and cook them. after that she was placed in a chair, and her mother, with pomp and gravity, undid her "maiden plait," her loosened hair denoting that she could no longer be regarded as a maiden. all her relations came and pulled at her hair, which fell over her shoulders, to assure themselves the plait was really undone. then the _weeping woman_, swaying to and fro as before, sang another dirge over her--a most melancholy form of betrothal, we thought--and finally put a white linen cap on the bride's head, trimmed with lace, which completely concealed her face. thus covered, the bride and the weeping woman sat side by side on chairs, when, still swaying their bodies as if in unutterable grief, they recited more bridal songs, all of the same dreary character. finally, the bride had a verse sung for her by the weeping woman addressed to her parents, to each of whom she clung in turn. her father, mother, brothers, sisters, etc., were singly poetically addressed after the following doleful but remarkable fashion:-- o the anguish of the parting, o the pain of separation, from these walls renowned and ancient, from this village of the northland, from these scenes of peace and plenty, where my faithful mother taught me, where my father gave instruction to me in my happy childhood, when my years were few and tender! as a child i did not fancy, never thought of separation from the confines of this cottage, from these dear old hills and mountains; but, alas! i now must journey, since i now cannot escape it; empty is the bowl of parting, all the fare-well beer is taken, and my husband's sledge is waiting, with the break-board looking southward, looking from my father's dwelling. how shall i give compensation, how repay, on my departure, all the kindness of my mother, all the counsel of my father, all the friendship of my brother, all my sister's warm affection? gratitude to thee, dear father, for my father life and blessings, for the comforts of thy table, for the pleasures of my childhood! gratitude to thee, dear mother, for thy tender care and guidance, for my birth and for my culture, nurtured by thy purest life-blood! gratitude to thee, dear brother, gratitude to thee, sweet sister, to the servants of my childhood, to my many friends and playmates! never, never, aged father, never, thou, beloved mother, never, ye, my kindred spirits, never harbour care nor sorrow, never fall to bitter weeping, since thy child has gone to strangers, to the meadows of _wäinölä_, from her father's fields and firesides. shines the sun of the creator, shines the golden moon of _ukko_, glitter all the stars of heaven, in the firmament of ether, full as bright on other homesteads; not upon my father's uplands, not upon my home in childhood, shines the star of joyance only. now the time has come for parting from my father's golden firesides, from my brother's welcome hearth-stone, from the chambers of my sister, from my mother's happy dwelling; now i leave the swamps and lowlands, leave the grassy vales and mountains, leave the crystal lakes and rivers, leave the shores and sandy shallows, leave the white-capped surging billows, where the maidens swim and linger, where the mermaids sing and frolic; leave the swamps to those that wander, leave the cornfields to the plowman, leave the forests to the weary, leave the heather to the rover, leave the copses to the stranger, leave the alleys to the beggar, leave the courtyards to the rambler, leave the portals to the servant, leave the matting to the sweeper, leave the highways to the roebuck, leave the woodland-glens to lynxes, leave the lowlands to the wild-geese, and the birch-tree to the cuckoo. now i leave these friends of childhood, journey southward with my husband, to the arms of night and winter, o'er the ice-grown seas of northland. all this must have seemed very sad to the bridegroom, who sat dumb in a corner, a perfect nonentity. moral for all young men--never get married in finland. the second scene represented the wedding. it was the bridegroom's house. they had been to the church, and he was bringing her home. the guests were assembled to receive her, some were baking cakes in great haste, others arranging the pots of _kalja_, all excited and joyful. at last some one rushed in to say "they are coming, they are coming," and immediately appeared a procession of peasants with the bride and bridegroom _hand in hand_. she wore a dark-red cashmere gown with a handsomely embroidered white apron, and large round silver brooch, such as the highlanders of scotland use to fasten their kilt; but she was still covered by the linen cap with its lace adornments, which hung over her face. she was solemnly escorted to a seat by the table, and only raised this veil when the meal began. after "the breakfast" was over, four young men and four girls danced a sort of lancers, with grand variations, and executed gymnastic feats--frog dancing and a sort of highland-reel step--very pretty and very quaint. the bride and bridegroom did not join in the measure--both sat solemn as judges; indeed, a _karjalan_ wedding is a monstrously sad affair for the bridegroom, at all events, for he plays a rôle of no importance, while it must be a melancholy business for the bride. the men's dresses were of ordinary cloth with bright-coloured linen shirts, and leather boots turned up at the toe, the soft leather legs reaching nearly to the knees, the last two or three inches being laced _behind_, so as to enable the wearer to pull them on. the sisters of the bride wore crowns composed of plain bands of various-coloured ribbons--nearly a quarter of a yard high in front, but diminishing towards the back, where the ends of the ribbons hung below the waist. the words of the bride's lament are so strange, that we give some of them from _kalevala_, thinking every man who reads the lines will sympathise with the wretched bridegroom, and every woman wish to have as devoted a husband as the young man is exhorted to make. but alas! there comes a day of reckoning, when he may "instruct her with a willow," and even "use the birch-rod from the mountains." the bride's farewell bridegroom, thou beloved hero, brave descendant of thy fathers, when thou goest on a journey, when thou drivest on the highway, driving with the rainbow-daughter, fairest bride of _sariola_, do not lead her as a titmouse, as a cuckoo of the forest, into unfrequented places, into copses of the borders, into brier-fields and brambles, into unproductive marshes; let her wander not, nor stumble on opposing rocks and rubbish. never in her father's dwelling, never in her mother's courtyard, has she fallen into ditches, stumbled hard against the fences, run through brier-fields, nor brambles, fallen over rocks, nor rubbish. magic bridegroom of _wäinölä_, wise descendant of the heroes, never let thy young wife suffer, never let her be neglected, never let her sit in darkness, never leave her unattended. never in her father's mansion, in the chambers of her mother, has she sat alone in darkness, has she suffered for attention; sat she by the crystal window, sat and rocked, in peace and plenty, evenings for her father's pleasure, mornings for her mother's sunshine. never mayest thou, o bridegroom, lead the maiden of the rainbow to the mortar filled with sea-grass, there to grind the bark for cooking, there to bake her bread from stubble, there to knead her dough from tan-bark. never in her father's dwelling, never in her mother's mansion, was she taken to the mortar, there to bake her bread from sea-grass. thou should'st lead the bride of beauty to the garner's rich abundance, there to draw the till of barley, grind the flower and knead for baking, there to brew the beer for drinking, wheaten flour for honey-biscuits. hero-bridegroom of _wäinölä_, never cause thy bride of beauty to regret her day of marriage; never make her shed a tear-drop, never fill her cup with sorrow. should there ever come an evening when thy wife shall feel unhappy, put the harness on thy racer, hitch the fleet-foot to the snow-sledge, take her to her father's dwelling, to the household of her mother; never in thy hero-lifetime, never while the moonbeams glimmer, give thy fair spouse evil treatment, never treat her as thy servant; do not bar her from the cellar, do not lock thy best provisions. never in her father's mansion, never by her faithful mother was she treated as a hireling. honoured bridegroom of the northland, proud descendant of the fathers, if thou treatest well thy young wife, worthily wilt thou be treated; when thou goest to her homestead, when thou visitest her father, thou shalt meet a cordial welcome. censure not the bride of beauty, never grieve thy rainbow-maiden, never say in tones reproachful, she was born in lowly station, that her father was unworthy; honoured are thy bride's relations, from an old-time tribe her kindred; when of corn they sowed a measure, each one's portion was a kernel; when they sowed a cask of flax-seed, each received a thread of linen. never, never, magic husband, treat thy beauty-bride unkindly, teach her not with lash of servants, strike her not with thongs of leather; never has she wept in anguish, from the birch-whip of her mother. stand before her like a rampart, be to her a strong protection, do not let thy mother chide her, let thy father not upbraid her, never let thy guests offend her; should thy servants bring annoyance, they may need the master's censure; do not harm the bride of beauty, never injure her thou lovest; three long years hast thou been wooing, hoping every month to win her. counsel with the bride of heaven, to thy young wife give instruction, kindly teach thy bride in secret, in the long and dreary evenings, when thou sittest at the fireside; teach one year, in words of kindness, teach with eyes of love a second, in the third year teach with firmness. if she should not heed thy teaching, should not hear thy kindly counsel, after three long years of effort, cut a reed upon the lowlands, cut a nettle from the border, teach thy wife with harder measures. in the fourth year, if she heed not, threaten her with sterner treatment, with the stalks of rougher edges, use not yet the thongs of leather, do not touch her with the birch-whip. if she should not heed this warning, should she pay thee no attention, cut a rod upon the mountains, or a willow in the valleys, hide it underneath thy mantle, that the stranger may not see it, show it to thy wife in secret, shame her thus to do her duty, strike not yet, though disobeying. should she disregard this warning, still refuse to heed thy wishes, then instruct her with the willow, use the birch-rod from the mountains, in the closet of thy dwelling, in the attic of thy mansion; strike her not upon the common, do not conquer her in public, lest the villagers should see thee, lest the neighbours hear her weeping, and the forests learn thy troubles. touch thy wife upon the shoulders, let her stiffened back be softened; do not touch her on the forehead, nor upon the ears, nor visage; if a ridge be on her forehead, or a blue mark on her eyelids, then her mother would perceive it, and her father would take notice, all the village-workmen see it, and the village-women ask her: "hast thou been in heat of battle, hast thou struggled in a conflict, or perchance the wolves have torn thee, or the forest bears embraced thee, or the black-wolf be thy husband, and the bear be thy protector?" * * * * * by the fireplace lay a gray-beard, on the hearth-stone lay a beggar, and the old man spake as follows:-- "never, never, hero-husband, follow thou thy young wife's wishes, follow not her inclinations, as, alas! i did, regretful; bought my bride the bread of barley, veal, and beer, and best of butter, fish and fowl of all descriptions, beer i bought, home-brewed and sparkling, wheat from all the distant nations, all the dainties of the northland; but this all was unavailing, gave my wife no satisfaction, often came she to my chamber, tore my sable locks in frenzy, with a visage fierce and frightful, with her eyeballs flashing anger, scolding on and scolding ever, ever speaking words of evil, using epithets the vilest, thought me but a block for chopping. then i sought for other measures, used on her my last resources, cut a birch-whip in the forest, and she spake in terms endearing; cut a juniper or willow, and she called me 'hero-darling'; when with lash my wife i threatened, hung she on my neck with kisses." thus the bridegroom was instructed, thus the last advices given. * * * * * then the maiden of the rainbow, beauteous bride of _ilmarinen_, sighing heavily and moaning, fell to weeping, heavy-hearted, spake these words from depths of sorrow: "near, indeed, the separation, near, alas! the time for parting, near the time of my departure; fare thee well, my dear old homestead, fare ye well, my native bowers; it would give me joy unceasing could i linger here for ever. now farewell, ye halls and portals leading to my father's mansion; it would give me joy unceasing could i linger here for ever." [illustration: group of runo bards.] what a delightful representation! a beautiful scene of peasant life a hundred years ago. the charm of the singing in the open air, the people dressed in the old costumes, the scene really correct, old spinning wheels, etc., having been borrowed from the museum for the purpose. it was a charming picture, one well worth retaining on the retina of memory. it was the last day; the _karjalan_ wedding was over, and all the choirs, numbering altogether nearly a thousand voices, sang chants and hymns most beautifully, their combined voices being heard far through the woods and across the lakes. it was really a grand spectacle, those thousand men and women on the platform, comprising peasants, farmers, students, professors, all brought together merely to sing, while below and on the opposite hill three thousand seats were filled by a mixed audience, behind whom again, among the pine-trees, sat several thousand more. as a final effort the conductor called upon every one to join in the national anthem. up rose ten thousand or twelve thousand persons, and, as one man, they sang their patriotic verses beneath the blue canopy of heaven. it was wonderful; to a stranger the harmony of the whole was amazing; indeed, so successful did it prove, that national song after national song was sung by that musical audience. we looked on and marvelled. music attracts in finland, for from end to end of the land the people are imbued with its spirit and feel its power. the sun blazed, the pine cones scented the air, the birds sang, and we felt transported back to old druidical days when people met in the open for song and prayer. it was all very simple, but very delightful, and the people seemed to most thoroughly enjoy hearing their national airs; the whole scene again reminded us of ober ammergau, or of a highland out-of-door communion service. alas! the finnish national dress has almost disappeared, but at the _sordavala_ festival a great attempt was made to revive it at the enormous open-air concerts in the public park, where some of the girls, lying or sitting under the pine-trees on the hill opposite listening to the choir singing, wore the dress of _suomi_. the national colours are red and yellow, or white and bright blue, and much dispute arises as to which is really right, for while the heraldry book says red and yellow, the country folk maintain blue and white. white loose blouses of fine finnish flannel seemed most in favour, with a short full underskirt of the same material; geometrical embroidery about two inches wide in all colours and patterns being put round the hem of the short dress as well as brace fashion over the bodice; in some cases a very vivid shade of green, a sort of pinafore bodice with a large apron of the same colour falling in front, was noticeable; the embroidery in claret and dark green running round all the border lines; at the neck this embroidery was put on more thickly, and also at the waist belt. round the apron hung a deep and handsome fringe; altogether the dress with its striking colours and tin or silver hangings was very pleasing. unfortunately the girls seemed to think that even when they wore their national dress they ought to wear also a hat and gloves; although even the simplest hat spoils the effect. at the back of the wood, where we wandered for a little shade and quiet rest, we found our dear friends the "_runo_ singers." the name originated from the ancient songs having been written down on sticks, the _runo_ writing being cut or burnt in, this was the bards' only form of music. now these strange musical memoranda can only be found in museums. our _runo_ singers, delighted with the success of the marriage-play they had coached, welcomed us warmly, and at once rose to shake hands as we paused to listen to their _kantele_ playing and quaint chanting. it may be well to mention that the finnish language is very remarkable. like gaelic, it is musical, soft and dulcet, expressive and poetical, comes from a very old root, and is, in fact, one of the most interesting languages we possess. but some of the finnish words are extremely long, in which respect they excel even the german. as a specimen of what a finnish word can be, we may give _oppimattomuudessansakin_, meaning, "even in his ignorance." the language is intensely difficult to learn, for it has sixteen cases, a fact sufficient to appal the stoutest heart. however, there is one good thing about finnish, namely, that it is spoken absolutely phonetically, emphasis being invariably laid on the first syllable. for instance, the above word is pronounced (the "i" being spoken as "e") oppi-ma-tto-muu-des-san-sa-kin. finnish possesses a _you_ and a _thou_, which fact, though it cannot lighten the difficulties, does away with the terrible third person invariably in use in swedish, where people say calmly: "has the herr professor enjoyed his breakfast?" "yes, thanks, and i hope the mrs. authoress has done the same." by the swedish-speaking finns it is considered the worst of ill-breeding for a younger person to address an elder as "you," or for strangers to speak to one another except in the manner above indicated. finnish is one of the softest of tongues, and of all european languages most closely resembles the _magyar_ or hungarian. both of these come from the ugrian stock of _agglutinative_ languages, and therefore they always stick to the roots of the word and make grammatical changes by suffixes. vowels are employed so incessantly that the words are round and soft, and lend themselves easily to song. there are only twenty-two letters in the finnish alphabet, and as _f_ is very seldom employed, even that number is decreased. the use of vowels is endless; the dotted ö, equivalent to the french _eu_, being often followed by an e or i, and thereby rendered doubly soft. finns freely employ _thou_ and _thee_, and add to these forms of endearment numerous suffixes. human names, all animals, plants, metals, stones, trees--anything, in fact--can be used in the diminutive form. finnish is almost as difficult to learn as chinese. every noun has sixteen cases, and the suffixes alter so much, one hardly recognises the more complicated as the outcome of the original nominative. it takes, therefore, almost a lifetime to learn finnish thoroughly, although the structure of their sentences is simple, and, being a nation little given to gush, adverbs and adjectives are seldom used. as an example of finnish, we give the following table made out at our request, so that we might learn a few sentences likely to prove useful when travelling in the less-frequented parts of the country--every letter is pronounced as written. finnish. english. _hyvää huomenta._ good morning. _hyvää iltaa._ good evening. _hyvää päivää._ good day. _hyvää yötä._ good night. _hyvästi._ adieu. _jumalan haltuun._ god be with you. _kuinka voitte?_ how are you? _olkaa niin hyvä._ be so kind. _pyydän_, or _olkaa niin hyvä_. please; yes, please. _kiitoksia._ thank you. _kiitän._ i thank you. _saisinko minä vuoteen._ i want a bed. _saisinko minä yösijaa?_ can i stay the night? _saisinko luvan tietää mitäruokaa may i know what there is to teillä on?_ eat? _saisiko täällä ruokaa?_ can we get anything to eat? _saisiko täällä juomaa?_ can we get anything to drink? _paljoko se maksaa?_} what does it cost? _mitä se maksaa?_ } _mitä olen velkaa?_ what do i owe you? _mitä olemme velkaa?_ what do we owe you? _me tahdomme lähteä_ we would like to leave at one (or _matkustaa_) _kello yksi._ o'clock. _millä tunnilla saavumme perille?_ at what time will we arrive? _kuinka kaukana se on?_ how far is it? _onko sinne pitkältä?_ is it far from here? _olkaa hyvä tuokaa vielä lihaa._ please bring some more meat. _kuulkaa?_ do you hear? _heti._ quick. finnish. english. finnish. english. _maitoa._ milk. _leipää._ bread. _voita._ butter. _kahvia._ coffee. _sokeria._ sugar. _kaloja._ fish. _munia._ eggs. _olutta._ beer. the foregoing are all in the objective case; in the nominative they would be:-- _liha, maito, leipä, voi, kahvi, sokeri, kala, muna, olut._ the numeration table is as follows:-- _yksi._ . _kaksi._ . _kolme._ . _neljä._ . _viisi._ . _kuusi._ . _seitsemän._ . _kahdeksan._ . _yhdeksän._ . _kymmene._ . _kaksikymmentä._ . _kaksikymmentä yksi._ . _kaksikymmentä kaksi._ . _kolme kymmentä._ . _neljä kymmentä._ . _viisi kymmentä._ . _sata._ . _kaksisataa._ . _kolme sataa._ . _tuhat._ . _kaksi tuhatta._ . _kolme tuhatta._ . _miljoona._ , , . _tuhat kahdeksansataa yhdeksänkymmentä kuusi._ . to show the difficulties of the declensions, we take, as an example, the ordinary word land. declensions of the word maa=land. singularis. pluralis. _nominativus._ maa. maa-t. _genetivus._ maa-n. mai-den. _ackusativus._ maa-n. maa-t. _instructivus._ maa-n. mai-n. _essivus._ maa-na. mai-na. _partitivus._ maa-ta. mai-ta. _translativus._ maa-ksi. mai-ksi. inner local cases. _inessivus._ maa-ssa. mai-ssa. _elativus._ maa-sta. mai-sta. _illativus._ maa-han. mai-hin. outer local cases. _adessivus._ maa-lla. mai-lla. _ablativus._ maa-lta. mai-lta. _allativus._ maa-lle. mai-lle. _abessivus._ maa-tta. mai-tta. _komitalivus._ mai-ne. is such a declension not enough to strike terror to the stoutest heart? but now to return to the _kalevala_ itself, which is said to be one of the grandest epic poems in existence. the word _kalevala_ means "land of heroes," and it is undoubtedly a poem of nature-worship. it points to a contest between light and darkness, good and evil, and in this case the light and good are represented by the finns, the darkness and evil by the laps. although it is a poem of nature-worship, full of most wonderful descriptions--some of the lines in praise of the moon and sun, the sea and water-ways, the rivers and hills, and the wondrous pine forests of finland, are full of marvellous charm--it also tells the story of love, and many touching scenes are represented in its verses. "it is unlike other epics," says edward clodd, "in the absence of any apotheosis of clique or clan or dynasty, and in the theatre of action being in no ideal world where the gods sit lonely on olympus, apart from men. its songs have a common author, the whole finnish people; the light of common day, more than that of the supernatural, illumines them." before going further, it may be well to mention how the _kalevala_ came into existence. finland is thinly peopled, but every finn is at heart musical and poetical; therefore, far removed from the civilised world, they made songs among themselves--fantastic descriptions of their own country. by word of mouth these poems were handed on from generation to generation, and generally sung to the accompaniment of the _kantele_ in a weird sort of chant. by such means the wonderful _sagas_ of iceland were preserved to us until the year , when they first began to be written down on sheepskins, in runic writing, for iceland at that date shone as a glorious literary light when all was gloom around. by means of tales, and poems, and chanted songs, the arabian nights stories, so dearly loved by the arabs, which as yet have not been collected as they should have been, are related even to-day by the professional story-tellers we have seen in the market-places of morocco. professor _elias lönnrot_, as mentioned in the last chapter, realising the value to scholars and antiquaries of the wonderful poems of finland, so descriptive of the manners and customs of the finns, set to work in the middle of the nineteenth century to collect and bring them out in book form before they were totally forgotten. this was a tremendous undertaking; he travelled through the wildest parts of finland; disguised as a peasant, he walked from village to village, from homestead to homestead, living the life of the people, and collecting, bit by bit, the poems of his country. as in all mythological or gipsy tales, he found many versions of the same subject, for naturally verses handed on orally change a little in different districts from generation to generation. but he was not to be beaten by this extra amount of work, and finally wove into a connected whole the substance of the wondrous tales he had heard from the peasantry. this whole he called _kalevala_, the name of the district where the heroes of the poem once existed. gramophones will in future collect such treasures for posterity. in the first edition appeared. it contained thirty-two runos or cantos of about twelve thousand lines, and the second, which was published in , contained fifty runos or about twenty-two thousand eight hundred lines (seven thousand more than the _iliad_). there is no doubt about it, experts declare, that the poems or verses were written at different times, but it is nearly all of pre-christian origin, for, with the exception of a few prayers in the last pages, there are few signs of christian influence. no one knows exactly how these poems originated. indeed, the _kalevala_ is unique among epics, although distinct traces of foreign influence may occasionally be found, the christian influence being only noticeable in the last runos when the virgin's son, the child christ, appears, after which advent _wäinämöinen_ disappears for unknown lands. with this exception the entire poem is of much earlier date. the last runo is truly remarkable. "_mariatta_, child of beauty," becomes wedded to a berry-- like a cranberry in feature, like a strawberry in flavour. * * * * * wedded to the mountain berry * * * * * wedded only to his honour. * * * * * i shall bear a noble hero, i shall bear a son immortal, who will rule among the mighty, rule the ancient _wäinämöinen_. * * * * * in the stable is a manger, fitting birth-place for the hero. * * * * * thereupon the horse, in pity, breathed the moisture of his nostrils, on the body of the virgin, wrapped her in a cloud of vapour, gave her warmth and needed comforts, gave his aid to the afflicted to the virgin _mariatta_. there the babe was born and cradled, cradled in a woodland manger. this shows christian origin! _wäinämöinen's_ place is gradually usurped by the "wonder-babe," and the former departs in this stanza-- thus the ancient _wäinämöinen_, in his copper-banded vessel left his tribe in _kalevala_, sailing o'er the rolling billows, sailing through the azure vapours, sailing through the dusk of evening, sailing to the fiery sunset, to the higher landed regions, to the lower verge of heaven; quickly gained the far horizon, gained the purple-coloured harbour, there his bark he firmly anchored, rested in his boat of copper; but he left his harp of magic, left his songs and wisdom sayings to the lasting joy of _suomi_. thus old _wäinämöinen_ sails away into unfathomable depths. the _kalevala_ has, up to the present time, been a much-neglected poem, but there is now an excellent english translation by martin crawford, an american by birth, from which we have taken the liberty of quoting. mr. andrew lang has charmingly discoursed on the great national poem of the finns, and mr. edward clodd, who wrote a delightful series of articles in _knowledge_ on the same subject, has kindly placed his notes in my hands. there is no doubt about it that the fantastic mythology of the finns has not received as much attention as it deserves. "although mythology and theology are one," says mr. clodd, "we find among the ancient finns the worship of natural objects, all living things being credited with life, and all their relations being regarded as the actions of the mighty powers." naturally in a country so undisturbed and isolated as finland, fantastic mythology took firm root, and we certainly find the most romantic and weird verses in connection with the chief heroes of the _kalevala_, namely, _wäinämöinen_ and _ilmarinen_, who broadly resemble the norse demigods odin and thor. after any one has been to finland, he reads the _kalevala_ with amazement. what pen could describe more faithfully the ways of the people? every line is pregnant with life. their food, their clothing, their manners and customs, their thoughts and characteristics are all vividly drawn, as they were hundreds of years ago, and as they remain to-day. when we peep into the mysteries of the _kalevala_ and see how trees are sacred, how animals are mythological, as, for instance, in the forty-sixth rune, which speaks of the bear who "was born in lands between sun and moon, and died not by man's deeds, but by his own will," we understand the finnish people. indeed the wolf, the horse, the duck, and all animals find their place in this wondrous _kalevala_; and dream stories are woven round each creature till the whole life of finland has become impregnated by a fantastic sort of romance. the _kalevala_ opens with a creation myth of the earth, sea, and sky from an egg, but instead of the heroes living in some supernatural home of their own, they come down from heaven, distribute gifts among men, and work their wonders by aid of magic, at the same time living with the people, and entering into their daily toils. it is strange that the self-developing egg should occur in the _kalevala_ of northern europe, for it also appears among the hindoos and other eastern peoples, pointing, maybe, to the mongolian origin of the finnish people. the way the life of the people is depicted seems simply marvellous, and the description holds good even at the present time. for instance, these lines taken at hazard speak of spinning, etc.-- many beauteous things the maiden, with the spindle has accomplished, spun and woven with her fingers; dresses of the finest texture she in winter has upfolded, bleached them in the days of spring-time, dried them at the hour of noonday, for our couches finest linen, for our heads the softest pillows, for our comfort woollen blankets. or, again, speaking of the bride's home, it likens the father-in-law to her father, and describes the way they all live together in finland even to-day, and bids her accept the new family as her own-- learn to labour with thy kindred; good the home for thee to dwell in, good enough for bride and daughter. at thy hand will rest the milk-pail, and the churn awaits thine order; it is well here for the maiden, happy will the young bride labour, easy are the resting branches; here the host is like thy father, like thy mother is the hostess, all the sons are like thy brothers, like thy sisters are the daughters. here is another touch--the shoes made from the plaited birch bark, so commonly in use even at the present time; and, again, the bread made from bark in times of famine has ever been the finnish peasant's food-- even sing the lads of lapland in their straw-shoes filled with joyance, drinking but a cup of water, eating but the bitter tan bark. these my dear old father sang me when at work with knife or hatchet; these my tender mother taught me when she twirled the flying spindle, when a child upon the matting by her feet i rolled and tumbled. to-day, finnish women still wash in the streams, and they beat their clothes upon the rocks just as they did hundreds, one might say thousands, of years ago and more--for the greater part of _kalevala_ was most undoubtedly written long before the christian era in finland. northlands fair and slender maiden washing on the shore a head-dress, beating on the rocks her garments, rinsing there her silken raiment. in the following rune we find an excellent description of the land, and even a line showing that in those remote days trees were burned down to clear the land, the ashes remaining for manure--a common practice now. groves arose in varied beauty, beautifully grew the forests, and again, the vines and flowers. birds again sang in the tree-tops, noisily the merry thrushes, and the cuckoos in the birch-trees; on the mountains grew the berries, golden flowers in the meadows, and the herbs of many colours, many lands of vegetation; but the barley is not growing. _osma's_ barley will not flourish, not the barley of _wäinölä_, if the soil be not made ready, if the forest be not levelled, and the branches burned to ashes. only left the birch-tree standing for the birds a place of resting, where might sing the sweet-voiced cuckoo, sacred bird in sacred branches. one could go on quoting passages from this strange epic--but suffice it to say that in the forty-sixth rune _wäinämöinen_ speaks to _otso_, the bear-- _otso_, thou my well beloved, honey eater of the woodlands, let not anger swell thy bosom. _otso_ was not born a beggar, was not born among the rushes, was not cradled in a manger; honey-paw was born in ether in the regions of the moonland. with the chains of gold she bound it to the pine-tree's topmost branches. there she rocked the thing of magic, rocked to life the tender baby, 'mid the blossoms of the pine-tree, on the fir-top set with needles; thus the young bear well was nurtured. sacred _otso_ grew and flourished, quickly grew with graceful movements, short of feet, with crooked ankles, wide of mouth and broad of forehead, short his nose, his fur robe velvet; but his claws were not well fashioned, neither were his teeth implanted. swore the bear a sacred promise that he would not harm the worthy, never do a deed of evil. then _mielikki_, woodland hostess, wisest maid of _tapiola_, sought for teeth and claws to give him, from the stoutest mountain-ashes, from the juniper and oak-tree, from the dry knots of the alder. teeth and claws of these were worthless, would not render goodly service. grew a fir-tree on the mountain, grew a stately pine in northland, and the fir had silver branches, bearing golden cones abundant; these the sylvan maiden gathered, teeth and claws of these she fashioned, in the jaws and feet of _otso_ set them for the best of uses. taught him how to walk a hero. he freely gave his life to others. these are only a few stanzas taken haphazard from _kalevala_, but they give some idea of its power. at the festival we met, among the runo performers, a delightful woman. about forty, fat and broad, she had a cheerful countenance and kindly eyes, and she sang--if such dirges could be called singing--old finnish songs, all of which seemingly lacked an end. she was absolutely charming, however, perfectly natural and unaffected, and when we got her in a corner, away from the audience, proved even more captivating than before the public. first she sang a cradle song, and, as she moaned out the strange music, she patted her foot up and down and swayed her body to and fro, as though she were nursing a baby. she was simply frank too, and when asked to sing one particular song exclaimed-- "oh yes, i can sing that beautifully; i sing it better than any one on the east coast of finland." abundant tears shed for no sufficient cause--for no cause at all, indeed--would seem to be a characteristic of these lady vocalists. the singer of the bear legend wore a beautiful red-brocaded cap. in fact, her attire was altogether remarkable; her skirt, a pretty shade of purple shot with gold silk, was cut in such a way as to form a sort of corset bodice with braces across the shoulders, under which she wore a white chemisette. a beautiful, rich, red silk apron, and a set of well-chosen coloured scarves drawn across the breast completed her costume and added to the fantastic colouring and picturesqueness of the whole. she was very friendly; again and again she shook hands with us all in turn, and, during one of the most mournful of her songs, she sat so close to me that her elbow rested in my lap, while real tears coursed down her cheeks. it was quite touching to witness the true emotion of the woman; she rocked herself to and fro, and mopped her eyes with a neatly folded white cotton handkerchief, the while she seemed totally oblivious of our presence and enwrapped in her music. when she had finished she wiped away her tears, and then, as if suddenly recalled from another world, she appeared to realise the fact that we were present, and, overcome with grief, she apologised most abjectly for having forgotten herself so far as to cry before the strange ladies! this was no affectation; the woman was downrightly sorry, and it was not until we had patted her fondly and smiled our best thanks that she could be pacified at all and believe we were not offended. in her calmer moments she drew, as we thought, a wonderful purse from under her apron--a cloth embroidered thing with beads upon it. great was our surprise to discover that it contained snuff, from which she helped herself at intervals during the entertainment, never omitting to offer us some before she took her own pinch. this unexpected generosity reminded us of an incident that occurred while crossing the grosser glockner mountain in the tyrol, when we were overtaken by a violent snowstorm. being above the snow line the cold and wind were intense. one of the guides, feeling sorry for us and evidently thinking we looked blue with cold, produced from his _rucksack_ a large flask which contained his dearly loved schnapps. he unscrewed the cork and gravely offered it to us each in turn. there was no glass, nor did he even attempt to wipe the rim, although but an hour before we had seen all the guides drinking from the same bottle. this equality of class is always to be found in lands where civilisation has not stepped in. "each man is as good as his neighbour" is a motto in the remote parts of finland, as it is in the bavarian highlands and other less-known parts. what the peasants have, they give freely; their goodness of heart and thoughtfulness are remarkable. the _runo_ woman, who wept so unrestrainedly, had most beautiful teeth, and her smile added a particular charm to her face. when she was not singing she busied herself with spinning flax on the usual wooden oar, about five feet long and much carved and ornamented at one end. on the top, at the opposite end, was a small flat piece like another oar blade, only broader and shorter, fixed at such an angle that when she sat down upon it the carved piece stood up slant-wise beside her. halfway up the blade some coloured cotton bands secured a bundle of flax, while in her hand she held a bobbin on to which she wove the thread. she was never idle, for, when not occupied in singing to us, she spent her time spinning, always repeating, however, the second line of the other performers. another woman danced with her head bent low, a very strange slow shuffle round and round, something like an arab measure, but after a while she broke into a sort of waltz. the dancing, like the _runo_ music, was primitive. these _runo_ singers could but be regarded as a connecting link between the present and the past. here were people, the representatives of generations gone before, who had handed down by word of mouth the runes of that wonderful epic, the _kalevala_. just such folk as these had sat during long winters in their small wooden huts, practically windowless; besides, it was generally too cold to put back the wooden shutter, used for economy instead of glass, for more than a few moments at a time; they had sat in the dusk chanting the songs of their land, the mystic lines of which they had sucked in almost with their mother's milk, until music and verse filled their very souls. the weird, the wild, the fantastic, had become their nature. the mind loves to dwell on the supernatural, the unreal; and in those lonely, dreary, darkened lives mythological legends flourished as mushrooms in a cellar. the population literally feasted on the mythical, just as the twentieth century society revels in christian science, theosophy, or new thought. as the women applied the scrutcher to the flax, or carded the wool, they dreamed wild dreams of ghosts and goblins, and repeated to themselves, in queer chant, the stories of the sacred bear, or those beautiful lines to the sun and the moon to be found in _kalevala_. they lived again with _ahti_, the finnish sea god, otherwise called _lemminkäinen_; or the husband invoked the aid of charms, as at his work he recited how _lemminkäinen_ reached _pohjola_ but to quarrel and fight, and related verses showing how he finally cut off the head of the representative champion of the beautiful _louhi_. or wild stories of an ox with a thousand heads engrossed their fancy, and they lingered fondly over the tales of the hundred horns to plough up the land. or, again, the old wife would chime in with the weird rune where _wäinämöinen's_ harp blew into the sea, when a boat was manned with a thousand oars to fetch it back, but _wäinämöinen_ destroyed that boat by means of magic. _louhi_ then changed herself into an eagle, with claws and scythes of iron, and wondrous breastplate, while on her wings she bore aloft a thousand armed men, and upon her tail sat a hundred archers, and ten upon every feather. with one wing she sweeps the heavens, with the other sweeps the waters. this is cleverly represented in a picture by _gallén_, a well-known finnish artist. in another stirring verse, the poem goes on to tell how _louhi_ swooped down upon the heroes, when desperate battle ensued for the treasure under dispute. wounded and exhausted, _louhi_ threw the treasure into the sea rather than surrender it, emblematic still in the tenacity of the finnish race. chapter vii manners and customs such are the manners and customs of the past; now let us take a look at the _suomi_ of to-day, that we may better understand the life of the people before we start on our trip in carts through the interior of that enchanting but far-away land. for some hundreds of years finland belonged to sweden, and the stamp of sweden is to be found on its inhabitants; especially among the aristocracy, who still speak that language in their homes. but in russia stepped across the frontier, seized finland, annexed it as her own, and a year later the king of sweden renounced all his claims. since finland was ceded to russia, the russian sovereigns, as grand dukes of finland, have on the whole faithfully observed the pledges given to the grand duchy by alexander i., though, especially in recent years, they have been frequently broken. it was because the finlanders behaved so well that the tzar conceded much, and left them their independent constitution and their lutheran church. the tzar is really the grand duke of finland. the governor-general is president of the senate, which is the real executive body in finland. the diet has no executive power; only legislative authority. it is composed of four houses--the nobles, the clergy, the burghers, and the peasants. the members of parliament meet every third year, and have the power of voting money, altering the constitutional laws of the country, and regulating commercial enterprise. since has come the renaissance of finland. art, literature, industry, commerce, and politics have revived. the people saw themselves once more a nation conscious of its own gigantic tenacity of soul, prompted with a knowledge of its destiny, though sneered at, and threatened on all sides by famine, contempt, and absorption. finland is like a man who has slept long and suddenly wakes up refreshed, with renewed vigour to work. that is why he has come so much forward in the last quarter of the century, and is now prepared to make gigantic strides. learned, artistic, commercial, and athletic societies sprang up, each imbued with a fresh and sincere national enthusiasm. tournaments were held for _ski_, rifle-shooting, yachting, and other sports. attention was called to the ancient songs and national music, and the great musical festivals, such as was held at _sordavala_, were reinstated. parliament began meeting regularly, and hope beamed brightly. nevertheless danger is lurking within and without, for the finlanders speak three languages; the _finlanders_ themselves only speak finnish, the more educated people speak swedish, and in official circles they must know russian, a language which has been forced upon them; while the great russian people are ready to overwhelm and absorb, and march over them to new fields. still, as a finlander truly said to the writer, "the destiny of a people is in the hands of the lord, and finland has courage in god;" and therefore it is possible a great future may be in store for that beautiful country, beautiful whether we peep at _tavasland_, _karelen_, or _Österbotten_. the people in _tavasland_ are fair-haired, slow, but exceedingly tenacious, and also somewhat boorish. here the principal towns, manufactures, etc., are to be found. many of the inhabitants speak swedish, and all have been influenced by sweden. the following little anecdote gives some idea of the character of the natives of _tavasland_:-- a fortress was besieged by the russians in . after a severe struggle it was at last taken by assault, when the russians discovered that fifty-five out of the sixty defenders were dead. _but none had yielded!_ the people are determined and persevering, and it is no uncommon thing for a lad to follow the plough until he is thirteen years of age, reading for his school and his university, and finally taking his m.a. degree, and even becoming a professor. the people of the _karelen_ district are quicker and of lighter heart. they are nearer to russia, and the russian influence is distinctly seen. they are not so cleanly or so highly educated as the rest of the country, but they are musical and artistic. one must remember the word finn implies native peasant; the upper classes are called finlanders. until lately the two spoken languages of finland represented two parties. the finns were the native peasants who only spoke finnish, the radical party practically--the upper classes who spoke swedish among themselves were known as _svecomans_, and roughly represented the conservatives. but since the serious troubles early in the twentieth century, these two parties have been more closely drawn together against russia, and _finlander_ is the common name for both finnish-speaking and swedish-speaking people. _finn_ is often used as synonymous with finlander. there are swedish peasants as well as finnish; and while the finn speaks only finnish, the finlander only knew swedish until quite lately, except what he was pleased to call "kitchen finnish," for use amongst his servants; but every year the finlander is learning more and more of his native language, and swedish bids fair to be relegated to the classics as far as finland is concerned. the _fennomans_ take interest in, and work for the finnish language, literature, and culture; while the _svecomans_, who are principally composed of the old swedish families, try to maintain the old swedish culture in finland. since finland's relations with russia and the defence of the finnish constitution is the principal question in politics. party strife is terrible. it would be far better if the _fennomans_ and _svecomans_ tried to remember that their real object is the same, namely, the welfare of their own country, and turned their attention only in that direction instead of to petty and often ridiculous political squabblings. it is wonderful to note how democratic the people are in finland. each peasant is a gentleman at heart, brave, hasty, independent, and he expects every one to treat him as his equal. few persons are rich in finland according to english lights, but many are comfortably off. it would be almost impossible there to live beyond one's income, or to pretend to have more than is really the case, for when the returns are sent in for the income tax, the income of each individual is published. in january every year, in the _helsingfors_ newspapers, rows and rows of names appear, and opposite them the exact income of the owner. this does not apply if the returns are less than £ a year; but, otherwise, every one knows and openly discusses what every one else has. very amusing to a stranger, but horrible for the persons concerned. fancy jones saying to brown, "well, old chap, as you have £ a year, i think you could afford a better house and occasionally a new suit of clothes;" and even if jones didn't make such a remark, his friend feeling he thought it! it is the fashion for each town to select a committee in december for the purpose of taxing the people. every one is taxed. the tax is called a _skatt-öre_, the word originating from the small coin of that name, and each town decides whether the _öre_ shall be charged on two hundred or four hundred marks. let us take as an example a -mark _öre_ (tax). the first four hundred marks are free; but payment is required on every further four hundred, and so on. for instance, if a man has , marks, he pays nothing on the first four hundred, and has therefore thirty-nine sets of four hundred to pay for, which is called thirty-nine _skatt-öre_. if overtaxed, the aggrieved person can complain to a second committee; and this sometimes happens. the tax varies very much; in some of the seaport towns, which receive heavy dues, the _öre_, which includes parochial rates, is very low. in _wiborg_ they have had to pay as much as fifteen marks on every four hundred; but as a rule it is less. the habit of publishing the returns of all the incomes began about , and is now a subject of much annoyance--as much annoyance to a finlander as the habit of never knocking at the door to a stranger. no one ever thinks of knocking at a door in finland. people simply march in, and as few doors possess bolts, the consequences are sometimes appalling, especially to english people, who go through more daily ablutions than most nations, and prefer to do them in private. during our visit to _sordavala_, for the musical festival, we had some curious experiences in connection with boltless doors. we were located at the brewer's. now this was a great favour, as he was a private individual who cheerfully gave up his beautiful salon upholstered in red velvet "to the english ladies," but, unfortunately, this sumptuous apartment was reached by a smaller chamber where a man had to sleep. not only that, but the sleeping apartment of the man was really a passage which conducted directly into the _konttoori_ or office of the brewery. as far as the man was concerned, this did not so much matter; eventually he became quite accustomed to hearing his door suddenly opened and seeing a stranger with an empty basket on his arm standing before him and demanding the way to the _konttoori_ (which is pronounced, by the bye, exactly in the same manner as an irishman says _country_), when with a wave of the hand he indicated the office. but for us it was different. one morning, when the gentleman occupant of the passage was away and we were in the early stage of dressing, our door opened, and a fat burly man dashed into the middle of our room, where he stood transfixed, as well he might. "go away," we exclaimed. he heeded not. we waved and indicated, with the help of a brandished stocking, our desire that he should leave our apartment. but the stolidity of a finn is always remarkable, and the appearance of strange englishwomen in somewhat unusual attire appeared really to fascinate the gentleman, who neither moved nor spoke, only simply stared. "go away," we repeated, gesticulating more violently than before. the situation was intensely awkward, and it seemed to us as though hours instead of moments had passed since the entrance of our burly friend, and we were just wondering how on earth we were to get rid of him, when slowly, as though rolling the letters round his mouth, he pronounced the word _konttoori_. "yes, go into the country," we answered, pointing vehemently in the direction of that oft-inquired-for office. very solemnly and quietly he turned round and marched out of the door--let us hope much impressed and less disconcerted by the interview than we had been. once we were rid of him, we sat down and laughed so immoderately over the scene that the _bed_, one of those wooden collapsable affairs, peculiar to the country, on which my sister was sitting, completely gave way, and she was deposited upon the floor. the peals of merriment that followed this second misadventure apparently aroused the interest of some other visitor outside, for again the door opened and a youth of about seventeen stood before us. this was really getting too much of a good thing, for what may be considered a joke once becomes distressing if repeated a second time, and absolutely appalling on a third occasion. however, as we could not understand him, and he could not understand us, we wished him good-morning, and gently waved him away. eleven times in the course of five days did odd men and women thus rush like avalanches into our room, all having mistaken the way to the _konttoori_. another peculiarity of the finlander is that he never shakes hands. he seizes one's digits as though they were a pump handle, and warmly holds them, wrestles with them, waggles them, until the unsuspecting britisher wonders if he will ever again be able to claim his hand as his own. in this way the gentleman from the grand duchy is demonstrative with his acquaintances; he is very publicly devoted also to his wife, fondling her before his friends. on the other hand, he seldom kisses his mother, and never his sisters. indeed, all the outward affection seems reserved for husbands and wives; daughters seldom kiss their parents, and brothers and sisters rarely even shake hands. this struck us as particularly strange, because the members of an english family generally greet one another warmly when meeting for breakfast, especially parents and children; yet in finland, as a rule, they hardly take any notice of one another. a certain son we knew kissed his mother's hand on the occasion of leaving her for some weeks, while he merely nodded to his brothers and sisters standing around. another strange freak, in a land where there is no night for two or three months, is that the better houses never have shutters, and seldom blinds, at the windows; therefore the sun streams in undisturbed; and when a room has four windows, as happened to us at _sordavala_, the light of day becomes a positive nuisance, and a few green calico blinds an absolute godsend; indeed, almost as essential as the oil of cloves or lavender or the ammonia bottle for gnat bites, or the mosquito head-nets, if one sleeps with open windows. mosquitoes have fed upon me in tropical lands, but they are gentlemen in comparison with the rough brutality of the mosquitoes of the far north; there their innings is short and violent. it is indeed a strange experience to sleep with one's head in a sort of meat safe, for that is what these unsightly green muslin bags called mosquito nets resemble. they are flat on the top, with a sort of curtain hanging down all round, which one ties neatly under one's chin before retiring to rest. behold a beautiful lady--for all ladies are as certain to be beautiful when they write about themselves, as that authoresses are all old and ugly, which seems to be a universal idea in the eyes of the public generally--behold then a beautiful lady enveloped in a large unwieldy and very wobbly net head-covering, of such a vivid green hue that the unfortunate wearer looks jaundiced beneath! well, they had one advantage, they saved some bites, and they afforded us much amusement; but becoming they were not. in our strange chamber, with its four windows only protected by white muslin blinds from the fierce glare of that inquisitive sun, that seemed to peer in upon our movements all day and all night, we endured a small martyrdom, till we begged the maid to make our beds the reverse way; that is, to put the pillows where one's feet are usually to be found, as by this means the wooden bedstead kept a little of the light out of our weary eyes. no one can realise the weariness of eternal light until he has experienced it, any more than he can appreciate the glaring effects of everlasting day. we stayed with our kind friends at _sordavala_ for some days, and were a great source of interest to the servant, who, one day screwing up her courage, curiosity having got the better of her shyness, thus addressed a person she thought could furnish the required information-- "is it part of the english ladies' religion to sleep the wrong way round?" "no," was the reply; "what do you mean?" "is it in their worship that they should sleep with their heads towards the sun?" "certainly not; how did such an idea get into your head?" "every night the english ladies have made me make their beds the wrong way round, and i thought perhaps it was one of their religious customs." we were much amused when this conversation was repeated to us. such a notion as keeping the sun out of one's eyes had never entered the girl's head. apparently finlanders cannot have too much sunlight; probably by way of contrast to the darkness they live in during the long winter, for be it remembered that in the far north, where we travelled later, the sun disappears altogether in december and january, and winter every year lasts for eight or nine months. we were surprised to find that every basin is left by the housemaid with cold water in it, and there it stands waiting at all seasons; but such a thing as warm water is considered positively indecent, and the servant generally looks as if she would fall down with amazement at the mention of such a strange thing being wanted. in quite a large hotel at which we were once staying, the landlord being the only person who could speak anything except finnish, we asked him at night if he would be so kind as to explain to the housemaid that we wished to be called at half-past seven the following morning, when we should like her to bring us hot water. "certainement, madame," he replied, and bowing low took his leave. after a few minutes we heard a knock at the door (the door actually possessed a bolt or he would not have knocked), and on opening it we found the landlord. "pardon, madame, but how much hot water do you want for grog?" "no, no," we answered; "to wash with." he looked amazed; evidently he was more accustomed to people drinking tumblers of hot water--for grog--than he was to our requiring it for washing purposes. finland has much to learn in the way of sanitation, and yet more as to the advisability of a daily bath, for while even in hotels they give one an enormous carafe, which might be called a giraffe, its neck is so long, filled with drinking water surrounded by endless tumblers, the basin is scarcely bigger than a sugar bowl, while the jug is about the size of a cream ewer. very, very tired one night we arrived at a little inn. the beds were not made, and, knowing how long it took a finn to accomplish anything of the kind, we begged her to be as quick as possible, as we were dead beat. she pulled out the wooden bed, she thumped the mattress, and at last she went away, we hoped and believed to fetch the sheets. she remained absent for some time, but when she returned it was not with the sheets; it was with what to her mind was far more important, viz., a tin tray on which were arranged _four glass tumblers and a huge glass bottle full of fresh water_, which she had been to the bottom of the garden to pump from a deep well! we often pondered over that water subject, and wondered whether finns had nightly carousals with the innocent bottle, or whether drinking _aqua pura_ is a part of their religion, as the housemaid had thought sleeping with our heads the wrong way was a part of ours! our minds were greatly exercised also as to why the pillows were so hard and often gave forth such a strange smell, but that mystery was one day solved. when driving along a pretty road, we saw masses of soft white cotton flower waving in the wind, the silvery sheen catching the sunlight and making it look like fluffy snow. this we were told was _luikku_, the latin name of which is _eriophorum angustifolium_. women were gathering it and packing it into a sack. "that," explained our finnish friend, "is used for stuffing the pillows and sometimes even beds." "really?" we returned; "then that is why they are so hard and lumpy." "oh, but there is another plant even less soft than the _luikku_, which is employed for the same purpose. it grows at the water's edge and is a kind of rush." this plant turned out to be _ruoko_ (_phragmites communis_), a common species of water shrub in finland; after its dark red flowers have turned silvery gray, they look beautiful swaying with the wind, the long reed-like leaves making a pretty swish at the water's edge as they bend. going up the canals it is quite strange to notice how, when the steamer sucks the water from the sides to her screw, the _ruoko_ sways and bows its head down to her, and, as she passes on, it lifts its majestic head again, and gently sways down the other side as though to bid the ship farewell. in the summer months, when things often have to be done in a hurry, getting in the hay or reaping the harvest, for instance, since the moment the weather is propitious and the crop ripe no time must be lost, or a night's frost may prove destructive to all the crops, it is very common to have a _talkko_. a _talkko_ is a sort of popular amusement at which a great deal of work is done. the farmer invites all his friends to help him clear a rye field, for example. they all come in eager haste, and generally have a sort of picnic. work proceeds much quicker in company than alone, and while they reap with old-fashioned sickles, they chat and laugh and sing their national songs, eat and make merry on small beer, that terrible concoction which we explained before is called _kalja_, which they drink out of the same spoon, regardless of disease germs. the corn and rye when cut are put on pine-tree trunks to dry. they saw down the small pines, chop off the branch a foot from the trunk, plant them in a line along the field, and loosely throw their crop over these stumps exposed to the sun and wind; then, after binding by hand, carry them on sledges--summer sledges--to the farmstead, where thrashing, also by hand, completes the business of harvesting. farm work is very primitive still in parts of finland; the small plough, behind which the native plods, guiding it in and out of the stones, which his small sturdy pony drags, is a long and tedious business. a _talkko_ relieves labour much; and thus it comes to pass that, after jones and party have helped smith on monday, smith and party help jones on tuesday; a very socialistic arrangement, like many others in _suomi_. from the poor the rich have taken a hint, and where, in england, we have work parties for bazaars, or to make garments for the village clubs, in finland they have a _talkko_. especially is this the custom just before christmas time, when many presents have to be got ready, and all the girl friends assemble and prepare their little gifts for distribution on christmas eve. on this night there is much festivity. a tree is lighted even in the poorest homes, and presents are exchanged amid much feasting and merriment. christmas comes in the winter, when snow and ice are everywhere; therefore the richer folk drive to their balls and parties in sledges, rolled up in furs, and big skating-parties are the order of the day. it is amusing at these gatherings to hear the young people all calling one another by their christian names, and as some of the real finnish names are musical and pretty, we give a few of the most usual-- men. onni ilmari yrjö (george) väinö armas aarne arvo reijo esko heikki (henry) urpo eero (eric) mauno (magnus) lauri (laurence) vilho (william) toivo pekka (peter) ahti (kalevala) sampsa " antero " youko " kullervo " kalervo " untamo " kammo " nyyrikki " osmo " valio ensi women. aino saima helmi aili kyllikki eine aura sirkka lempi siviä rauha (friede, irene) hellin ainikki (kalevala) ilpotar " inkeri " louhi " lyyli, or lyylikki mielikki (kalevala) tellervo " tuulikki " hilja tyyne suoma alli impi laina ilma iri surnames. aaltola vuorio lallukka ritola aitamurto haapaoja häkli sutinen pösö matikainen koskinen piispanen pilvi (a cloud) vitikka vipunen (kalevala) korhonen lyytikäinen päivärinta päiviö makkonen porkka rahkonen ojanen reijonen alkio teittinen winter in the south of finland generally sets in about the last week of november, and when it comes is usually very severe, while the nights are long and the days short. as a rule the air is dry, and therefore that delightful fresh crispness, which is so invigorating, prevails, as it does in norway, where, one day when we were with dr. nansen at lysaker, the thermometer registered ° below zero fahr., yet we found it far less cold than england on a mild damp day. the mean temperature of the north of finland is ° fahr., and round _helsingfors_ in the south, ° fahr. as november advances every one in the southern districts looks forward eagerly to black ice; that is to say, that the ice should form before the first fall of snow covers the land. this often happens, and then the lakes, the rivers, and all round the coast, rapidly freeze some inches thick, the surface being as flat as a looking-glass, unless the wind has seriously disturbed the ice much while forming, and finland becomes one enormous skating-rink from end to end. every one throughout the country skates--men, women, and children. out they come in the early morning, and, with some refreshments in their pockets, they accomplish visits and journeys which, to the uninitiated, seem impossible. fifty or sixty miles a day can be managed on skates, and even the peasantry avail themselves of this opportunity of enjoying sport, and, at the same time, accomplishing a vast amount of friendly visiting and work. it is during this black ice that the ice-boats are most in requisition; for the bumpiness so often experienced when snow has settled on the frozen surface does not exist, and the ice-boats' speed, which is tremendous at all times, becomes absolutely terrific and wildly exciting, as we know from our experiences in holland. however, finland is not always so fortunate, and sometimes the frost and snow come together; and then, although the peasantry, as in holland, skate over the waterways to market and on business, the better-class folk, who skate for amusement, betake them to rinks. roadways are marked out on the ice in finland the same as in norway; that is to say, little holes are dug along the would-be path into which small fir-trees are stuck, and therefore these impromptu roads look like little avenues. in the case of an ice-rink, fir-trees are planted all round the edge in a veritable wall, to keep out the non-paying public. bands play in the afternoon and evening, and when it becomes too dark to see by nature's light, electric lamps are kindled, and the place becomes a regular rendezvous, not only for skaters, but for onlookers, who walk about on those bright starlight evenings, chatting to their friends, sipping their coffee, and listening to the music. as a rule, in finland they go in more for distance than figure-skating, as is also the case in holland, norway, etc., where long distances have to be traversed, and speed is of more importance than style. still, in the finnish towns, where people skate on rinks merely for amusement, some beautiful figure-skating may be seen. once a finnish lady went over to paris and received the sum of £ a month for giving entertainments in figure-skating. all paris was charmed, and finland naturally felt proud. sledging, of course, is everywhere necessary in finland in the winter, and only those who have enjoyed the delights of a drive, with a good horse briskly passing through the crisp air to the tingling of sleigh bells, can realise its delights. _skidåkning_ is also much in vogue, but in finland it is not so dangerous as in more mountainous countries. in norway _ski_ are absolutely essential. there the snow lies so deep on the mountains and in the valleys that the peasantry could never get about at all were it not for their _ski_. but in finland the country is so much flatter, and the lakes so much more numerous, that people can walk on the hard-frozen surface readily. therefore the peasantry--except in certain districts--do not use _ski_ so much as a necessity, as for pleasure and sport. the upper classes go on _skidor_ as constantly as they skate. they get up competitions; they go for whole days' expeditions into the country, and, on their "wooden shoon," enjoy themselves thoroughly in the winter months. in a _winter jaunt to norway_, i described a jump of eighty-eight feet made on these strange snow-shoes, and the _ski_ themselves, as follows:-- it is perhaps a bold statement to call _ski_-racing one of the finest sports of the world, but to our mind it undoubtedly is, and one which requires wondrous pluck and skill, and for a man to jump eighty-eight feet from a height, with a pair of _ski_ securely fixed on his feet, requires some courage! they are utterly unlike canadian snow-shoes, because they are required for a very hilly country, and over a great depth of snow. an ordinary-sized man's _ski_ are eight or nine feet long. they are only about ½ inches wide, and an inch at the thickest part, that is to say, immediately under the foot, but towards either end they taper to half this thickness. as a rule they are both the same length, and pointed upwards at the toes; but in some of the norwegian valleys and in finland, one _ski_ is much longer than the other, and that one is usually quite flat. in the middle of this plank-like piece of wood, which is split with the grain to stand the great strain often imposed upon it, and never sawn at all, the toes are fastened by a leather strap. another strap goes round the heel in a sort of loop fashion, securing the foot, but at the same time giving the heel full play. a special _ski_ boot is worn over enormously thick horsehair stockings. this boot has no hard sole at all, and, instead of being sewn at the sides, the large piece of thick leather which goes under the foot is brought well over the top and secured to what might ordinarily be called a leather tongue. at the back of the boot is a small strap, which is used to fasten the _ski_ heel-strap securely to the boot. once fixed on the _ski_, the foot is so secure no fall can loosen it, and the only way to extricate the foot is to undo the three straps. outside these huge ungainly hair stockings and strangely comfortable boots very thick gaiters are worn. it is very necessary to keep the feet and legs warm in such a cold land as norway, where the mercury freezes oft-times in the thermometers, and snow six or seven feet deep covers the land sometimes for months. such cold sounds appalling, but it is quite the reverse. the air is absolutely dry, and there is seldom any wind. at the given word, no. rushed from the plateau on the hilltop, down the hill itself. the pace, in consequence of the steepness, was tremendous. on he came; on to the little platform built out from the mountain-side he rushed; then, with a huge spring, his legs doubled up, and whirling his arms like a windmill to keep his balance, he jumped. oh, what a moment of profound excitement! would he regain his footing all that distance below? balancing himself for a moment in the air after his jump, he regained his footing, and sped away down the hillside, stopping himself by a sharp turn of the _ski_ as he was nearing the loudly applauding spectators. one after another they came, and at least per cent, succeeded in landing on their feet and speeding away. the longest jump of all was ½ metres, that is to say, nearly feet, and this was done by ustvedt; but he did not regain his footing. ingemann sverre, who jumped metres, and landed on his feet to continue his course, won the king's cup and the ladies' purse. we looked on and marvelled. since then a hundred and twenty feet is the record jump. strange as it may seem, _ski_ was a word practically unknown in england. such competitions are now held in finland, where _ski_ soon promise to be as fashionable as in norway. _ski_ are called-- in swedish _skida_, plural _skidor_. in finnish _suksi_, " _sukset_. they are almost the same as the norwegian shoes, excepting that they always have an inward curve under the foot, and seldom have a heel-strap. the heel-strap is only necessary for jumping or for going uphill, and as there is little jumping and no hills to speak of in finland, the shoe, being curved up at the toe like a chinaman's, is sufficient to keep the _sukset_ on the feet. bears, as said before, do not walk hourly in the streets of finland. nevertheless, bears do exist, and in the northern and easterly districts in considerable numbers. it is in winter that the bear-hunts take place, and, having discovered the whereabouts of the monarch of the forest, the finlander disturbs him from his winter sleep, either by smoke or by the aid of dogs, and then for days follows him over the snow. the bear is an adept at walking through snow, but man on _sukset_ is his match. after circling bruin in parties, or chasing him alone, the bear generally falls in the end to some sportsman's gun. it is a great day when the dead bear is brought back to the village, and one usually celebrated by a triumphal procession, merry-making, and a grand feast, followed by much singing of the national songs, handed down from father to son, and thrilling tales of wondrous acts of daring at bear-hunts, for, as we have seen, in the _kalevala_ the bear is a great subject for the poet's verse. the man who fired the fatal shot is, on the occasion of the bear-feast, naturally the hero, and for him it is an occasion to be gratefully remembered. every finn speaks with profound admiration and bated breath of _mårten kitunen_, who during his life killed a hundred and ninety-eight fully-grown bears, besides innumerable young ones. it must not be imagined from this that bear-killing is an easy sport; on the contrary, it is extremely dangerous, for the fatigue and perils of _skidåkning_ the wild forests, with a very low temperature, for hours and hours is in itself a perilous pastime. frost-bite is by no means uncommon, and, of course, in such cold, it is impossible to sit down and rest, lest that drowsy sleep, so dreaded in northern climates, should take hold of the weary man and gradually lull him into his last slumber. nevertheless, women, who in finland are particularly enterprising, sometimes take part in bear-hunts, and it is on record that several have themselves shot fully-grown animals. no mean achievement for a woman; but finnish women are go-ahead, and have given the world a lead by gaining admittance to parliament. many women stalk the deer in scotland, and some have made wonderful bags, but then, although stalking often necessitates many weary hours' walking, there is not in scotland such severe and perilous cold to deal with. in finland many ladies shoot, and when a hare is killed the cry of _all's tod_ rings through the forest, and sounds almost as inspiriting as the cry of the hounds at home. tobogganing is another great institution in finland, and as the hills in the south are not steep enough for a really good spin, the finlanders put up a _kälkbacke_ or _skrinnbacke_, in imitation of their russian friends, and enjoy rattling spins, and moments of intense excitement, gliding down these dangerous routes. they are really switchbacks made of ice and snow, and as they are steep, the pace is terrific. in summer yachting is one of the great institutions of finland, and we were lucky enough to be in _wiborg_ at the time of the great race between _wiborg_ and _helsingfors_ for the yacht cup. it was a delightful day, and a large steamer having been chartered by our host, whose son was the president of the _wiborg_ yacht club, he invited his friends to see the race. we were a very merry party of forty or fifty, as we steamed away from the _wiborg_ pier to where the two yachts were to meet. the _menelik_ belongs to _wiborg_; the _thelma_ to _helsingfors_. the _menelik_ is a lugger, built in _wiborg_ at the yard of hackman company, although designed by arthur e. payne of southampton. she is a two and a half rater. the _helsingfors_ boat was designed by charles sibbick in cowes, england. the yacht club in _helsingfors_ began its existence in , and is certainly in a very flourishing condition. the course was a long one, and the two best days' sailing out of three secures the cup. the first day was a trial to the patience of the steersmen. it was a dead calm; such a calm as one seldom meets with, and not until the afternoon did the faintest breeze spring up, while even then the sailing so far exceeded the seven hours' time allowed that the day was drawn as a blank. but, as onlookers, we enjoyed ourselves immensely; there were numbers of steamers like ourselves on pleasure bent, the umpire's boat, and several rowing boats which had managed to come out so far to sea, the day being calm. the end was all that our kind host could wish, for the _menelik_ won by three minutes. yachting and canoeing are fine pastimes in this land of waterways. dancing is a very popular form of entertainment in finland, and often indulged in by old and young. it is quite a custom on saturday evening for the young folk from various villages to meet together at some workmen's recreation room, or at one of the larger farms, and have a ball. one of the best specimens of such an entertainment we chanced to see was at the old-world city of _Åbo_. about a mile from the town a new park has been opened, in the arrangements of which our friend, the chief of the police, took the greatest interest, and to it, after a charming little dinner, he escorted us to see the peasant ball in full swing. every saturday at six o'clock it begins; and, as some sort of restraint is necessary, the sum of one penny is charged to each would-be dancer. in the middle of the park is a large _kiosk_, big enough for a couple of hundred folk to pirouette at a time. it has a roof supported by pillars, but there are no side walls. a couple of fiddlers were playing hard when we entered, and a cornet coming in at odd minutes composed the band, and, until midnight, the couples twirled and whisked round and round the wooden floor. why should not something of the kind be allowed in our parks from seven to twelve in the evening at a charge of a few pence? the great national dance of the country is called the _jenka_. it is more like a schottische perhaps than anything else; and really it was extraordinary to see how well these peasants danced, and how they beat time. thoroughly they entered into the spirit of the thing, the polka, waltz, and _jenka_ being all danced in turn, until the park closed. writing letters in finland is an expensive amusement. every epistle, not delivered by private hand, costs twopence for transmission; rather a high rate for home postage, considering that foreign letters only cost a fourth more. postcards cost one penny, whether for home or foreign use. this high rate of postage seems very remarkable, considering the almost universal adoption of my father's old friend's (sir rowland hill) enlightened suggestion that a penny would pay. we learn that during the year our english post-office passed , , , letters and , , postcards; and, writing on the same subject, the duke of norfolk said, "the penny letter has long been known to be the sheet anchor of the post-office, and it is interesting to record that no less than per cent. of the total number of inland letters passed for a penny each." fifteen years later every english-speaking land could be reached by a penny stamp. finland might take the hint and institute a penny post; but we hope she will not send some fifty thousand letters _unaddressed_, as we english did, their valuable contents amounting to several thousands of pounds! the quickest postal route to finland is _viâ st. petersburg_; but letters are often delayed to be searched, and they are not unfrequently lost, so that all important epistles are best registered; and one finnish family, some of whose relations live in germany, told us they never thought of sending letters either way without registering them first. finland has her own stamps, but all letters passing direct from russia to finland, or finland to russia, must have special stamps upon them, the tzar having forbidden the finnish stamps to be used on letters going out of finland, which is contrary to finnish laws. telegrams from or to finland are ruinous. even in _suomi_ itself they cost a small fortune, and outside they are even worse; but then no one telegraphs to any one in the territory, for almost every person has a telephone, which can be annexed from town to town, and those who have not telephones can go to a public office in every village and expend a penny on their message, therefore in that respect the finns are in advance of us. we were amused to find the finlanders very inquisitive. this is as much a trait in their character as their stubborn obstinacy, their intense truthfulness, or their wondrous honesty. and a finn runs a scotchman very hard in evading a straightforward answer. "does the train leave at two?" the question is replied to by the scot, "maybe it does;" but the finlander says, "it is advertised to do so;" thus getting out of a direct answer, for where the englishman would say "yes" or "no" if he knew, the other two nations would never dream of doing such a thing. the inhabitants of this grand duchy are, as has been stated, wondrously inquisitive. the peasant asks where you come from the moment he sees you are a stranger, and the better-class folk soon turn the traveller in their midst inside out with questions. they ask not only "where do you come from?" but, "where are you going?" "what is your business?" "have you a husband, wife, father, mother, brother, sisters," and so on. one inquiry is piled upon another, just as is the custom in the united states, where a railway journey is like a query and answer column. the finns do it all most good-naturedly, 'tis true, but occasionally it is inconvenient nevertheless. finns are very intense; they are men of few words; slow to anger, and slower to forgive. they never do anything in a hurry. life is very serious to them, and they endure great privations with patience. they never trifle; flirtation they abhor; and chaff they simply do not understand. they are honest to a degree, kindhearted, respect law and order, and love peace. they are more than hospitable; they are, in fact, overpoweringly generous in their invitations to the veriest stranger; they are kind in their dealings with foreigners--doing their best to entertain them, to understand their speech, although often speaking four or five languages themselves, and to show them all they can of their land, of which they are immensely proud. they have none of the beauty, brilliancy, or charm of the south; but all the sterling assets and good qualities of the north. chapter viii imatra's roaring cataract the scenery of finland is, as a rule, neither grand nor impressive. it has not the mountains of switzerland topped with everlasting snow, nor the rocky fjords of norway; no dear little tyrolese chalets, nor sweet english cottages set in fair gardens, no splendid stretches of emerald-green sward, and iron-bound coast scenery such as is the delight of the tourist in ireland, nor purple-crowned hills as in scotland; nevertheless, it has a charm of its own, and can boast more lakes, canals, and rivers, all connected in some marvellous way, than any of the countries mentioned. it is indeed a land of many thousand lakes, and one might add many, many thousand islands. there are large islands covered with pine forests, tiny solitary rocky islets, on which perchance a house has been built for a pilot; mere patches of earth islands, where flourishes one solitary pine, that looks from a distance as if it were actually growing on the surface of the water. round the coast line there are dangerous and hidden haunts where smuggling goes on to a large extent, while, when traversing the inland lakes, big steamers have to keep to certain routes marked by buoys--sometimes merely by sticks. except in the far north the country is very flat, and even in the north a few hundred feet is the limit of the highest land. further south even less elevation is found, although the country is by no means so uniformly level as holland, denmark, or russia. one can travel nearly all over finland in steamers, and very comfortable steamers they are too, with nice little cabins and good restaurants. provided with one's own deck-chair, many pleasant days can be passed on the calm waters round the coast, or the yet calmer lakes and canals inland, where one marvels at the engineering skill and the wonderful steering powers of english-speaking captains of finnish birth. we decided on our way back from _sordavala_ to stop at the famous cataract of _imatra_. it was one of the few railway journeys we made during our jaunt in finland, for we always went by water for choice, and it proved somewhat remarkable. can there be such a thing as a musical train? if so, verily the name would apply to that by which we travelled. the passengers were made up of odds and ends; among them were most of the students who had taken part in the festival, a great many representatives of various choirs, some of the athletes who had charmed us with their gymnastic exercises, for which the country is famous, and several visitors like ourselves. of course, these folk never previously practised singing together, but after professor dickenson, standing on the platform, had returned thanks on behalf of the visitors for their cordial reception in _sordavala_, which speech was replied to by the mayor of the town, some one called upon the audience to sing the national air "_maamme_." the voices rose and fell immediately. heads were poked out from carriage windows in order that lusty throats might sing their beloved air. all at once three students on the platform waved their caps on high, and a regular musical performance ensued. to a stranger it seemed a remarkable demonstration. supposing the occupants of an english train were suddenly called upon to sing "god save the king," what would be the result? why, that more than half the passengers would prove so shy they could not even attempt it; another quarter might wander about the notes at their own sweet will, and, perhaps, a small percentage would sing it in tune. but then, just think, the finns are so imbued with music, and practise so continually--for they seem to sing on every conceivable occasion--that the sopranos naturally took up their part, the basses and the tenors kept to their own notes, and perfect harmony prevailed. not content with singing half a dozen songs while waiting for the train to get under way, many carriage loads sang off and on during the whole seven hours of the journey to _andrea_, where we changed in order to catch a train for _imatra_. having an hour to spare at this junction, a walk was suggested along the railway line. this was not at all so dangerous a feat as might be imagined, for although only a single line, trains ran so very seldom that pedestrians might walk up and down for half a day and never see one. we wandered with a delightful man whose rôle it was to act as interpreter between the finnish and swedish languages in the house of commons, a position called _tulkki_ or translator, just as canada uses interpreters for english and french. we were amazed to find him conversant with all kinds of english literature; he spoke with familiarity of dickens, thackeray, shakespeare, twelve of whose plays, by the bye, have been translated into finnish and performed at the theatre, and he was even acquainted with the works of rudyard kipling, swinburne, browning, and mrs. humphry ward. with equal aptitude he discussed daudet and zola, tolstoi and tourgenieff, and, to our astonishment, we found that although he spoke only indifferent german, he could read english, french, german, and russian authors in the original. as we wandered down the railway line, our attention was arrested by an extraordinary carriage which stood on a siding. a sort of engine was in front, but, behind, a glass house composed the remainder of the waggon. we had never before seen anything like it, and wondered if it could be an observatory on wheels, until we noticed that in the forepart of the train was a snow-plough, such as is to be seen on every engine in norway during mid-winter, a plough which closely resembles an american cow-catcher. "that," remarked our friend, "is a finnish snow-plough. it is with the greatest difficulty we can keep the lines clear in winter, and it is not sufficient to have an ordinary snow-plough attached to the engine, therefore, just as ice-breakers endeavour to keep the port of _hangö_ open during winter, so these snow-ploughs ply to and fro along the railway lines, throwing up vast heaps of snow on each side, until they make a wall sometimes ten or twelve feet high. these walls form a sort of protection to the trains, and gradually become so hard that, by the end of the winter snow, they might be built of stone, they are so strong." there are not many railways in finland, the first being laid in ; with the exception of private ones, which are narrow, they all have the wide russian gauge. speaking of the ice-breaker at _hangö_, we may say that, in spite of all endeavours to keep the only winter port of finland open during the cold months, ice sometimes gains the mastery, and for several weeks that finnish port becomes closed. our friend was a most interesting companion, and explained something of the mysteries of the university. he told us that it was first founded in at _Åbo_, but in , when _Åbo_ was burnt to ashes and many thousand volumes were destroyed, it was considered advisable to move the university to _helsingfors_, a town which at that time had a larger population than the older capital. "you see," he said, "we have no court here, no great wealth, but few nobility, and, therefore, every one and everything is centred round our university. it comprises four faculties--theology, law, medicine, and philosophy." "what does your title of _magister_ mean?" we ventured to ask. "it is equivalent to your m.a.," he said; "but our degrees are only given every fourth year, when we keep up much old-fashioned pomp. crowds of people come to see the ceremony, and all the successful candidates, as they receive their degrees, are given, if they are master of arts, a gold ring, if doctors, a silk-covered hat, while on their heads a crown of laurels is actually placed. it is an old custom for each man to choose one from among his lady friends to be his _wreath-binder_, and she is supposed to undertake the making of his laurel crown. this was all very well so long as men only took the degree, but great jokes have arisen since women have stepped in, because ladies naturally think it is only right that men should weave their laurel-wreaths." "and do they?" "i believe they do. if not actually with their own hands, they superintend the making of such wreaths for their lady friends, whom we welcome to our university with open arms." when we had arrived at _andrea_, on our journey to _imatra_ from the russian frontier, out tumbled a number of cyclists, who found to their distress that it would be necessary to wait about half an hour to continue their journey. it was overpoweringly hot; these young students stood on the platform discussing the situation, and at last they decided to cycle the twenty or thirty miles instead of waiting for the train. they took off their coats and strapped them on to the handles of their machines, and in pretty flannel shirts, gaily chaffing and laughing, off they started for their ride. we rather pitied them, as we saw them start under those melting sun's rays, and preferred our own idea of a quiet stroll. at last we heard the whistle of our train, and had to scamper back along the railway line in order to secure our seats. we crawled along, in the usual fashion of finnish trains, to the world-renowned _imatra_. arrived at the hotel, which is built beside the roaring cataract, where thousands of tons of water rush and tear from january to december, we went into the dining-room to order dinner, and there, sitting round the table in the best of spirits, were the students, who had actually ridden quicker from _andrea_ than our train had brought us. parts of finland are very beautiful, and travelling through the country is a most interesting experience; but, at the same time, there are none of the excellent motor roads such as we find in france or germany. it is not a good country for motorists, waterways being its chief attraction, and its boat service is excellent; but the roads, although well marked by sign-posts and mile-stones (kilometres), are certainly not good. oh! the joy that night of being in a real hotel, with a real brass bedstead and a real spring mattress, to say nothing of once again seeing a proper sized wash-hand basin and jug. above the roar of the seething waters, fretting at our very feet, claps of thunder made themselves heard, and rain descended in torrents, while vivid, flashes of lightning lit up the wondrous cataract of _imatra_. thunderstorms are quite common in those parts, and we felt glad of that one, as it did something to dispel for a time the oppressive heat. next morning the scene was changed, and as we looked in calm weather from the balcony window, we were fascinated by the vast volume of water dashing ceaselessly on its ruthless way below. later, sitting on a rocky boulder, we gazed in awe at the scene before us. this was _imatra_. this is one of the three famous falls which form the chain of a vast cataract. this avalanche of foam and spray, this swirling, tearing, rushing stream, this endless torrent pursuing its wild course, year in, year out--this was _imatra_, one of the strongest water powers in the world--the niagara of europe. not a waterfall in the real sense of the word, for within the space of half a mile the water only actually falls about forty feet; but that narrow channel, scarcely twenty yards across, with its rock-bound walls, is daily washed by thousands and thousands of tons of foaming water, poured into it from the quickly flowing _vuoksen's_ wide waters. as we sat and contemplated one of the grandest efforts of creation, this wonderful compression of a vast river into a narrow gorge, we realised how small is the power of man compared with the mighty strength of nature. see how the waves, which can be likened only to the waves of the sea in time of storm, as if in fury at their sudden compression, rush over that rock, then curl back, and pause in the air a moment before tearing on, roaring and hissing with rage, to the whirlpool farther down the stream. see how they dash from side to side, see how the spray rises in the air for the dainty sunlight to play among its foam. hear the noise, like that of thunder, as a great angry white horse dashes down that storm-washed chasm. this is strength and force and power, this is beauty and grandeur. this is _imatra_, one of finland's gems set in a regal crown. such a scene enters one's very soul; such grand majestic power, such might, such force, inspire one with lofty feelings, and make one realise a greater power, a greater strength than our poor world can give. are we not all the better for looking on such scenes? these vast glories of nature, however, should be viewed in peace to enable the spectator to enjoy their greatness and to receive their full influence. niagara is more vast--and niagara is boarded by chimneys and men's villainy. _imatra_, if humbler, therefore, is almost more impressive. yet the hand of the philistine is, alas! to be found even in primitive finland. as the modern roman lights his glorious colosseum with red and purple fires, so the finn illumines his wondrous falls with electric light; spans it by the most modern of modern bridges, and does not even attempt to hide "the latest improvements" by a coating of pine trunks. worse still, he writes or carves his name on every bench and on numerous rocks, and erects hideous summer-houses built of wooden plankings and tin, where the knotted pine-tree would have been as useful and twice as picturesque. finland, pause! if you wish to entice travellers to your shores, to bring strangers among you, keep your beautiful nature unspoiled, or, where change is absolutely necessary, try to imitate nature's own methods by using the glorious trees around you, instead of iron and tin shaped by man's hand; pause before you have murdered your natural loveliness by ghastly modernity, or you will be too late. attend to your sanitation if you will--that requires seeing to badly; provide more water and more towels for travellers who are accustomed to wash themselves in private, but don't imagine hideous modern erections will attract tourists, they but discourage them. _imatra_ is glorious. _wallinkoski_, the lower fall, is more picturesque, perhaps, but both are wonderful; they are worth journeying far to see, and holding in recollection for ever. we have nothing like them anywhere in britain. the falls of foyers are as crumbs in a loaf of bread when compared with _imatra_. the fall at badgastein is as nothing beside finland's great cataract; _hönefos_ in norway a mere trifle. in europe _imatra_ stands alone, with _perhaps_ the exception of its solitary rival, _trollhättan_ in sweden, the exquisite beauty of which is already marred by the sacrilegious hand of the philistine. above all, finland, you should not allow st. petersburg to light her streets with your water power; there is enough water in _imatra_ to light half europe--but keep it for yourselves, keep it as a pearl in a beautiful casket. _imatra_ is one of finland's grandest possessions. it seems impossible that salmon could live in such a cataract, but yet it is a fact that they do. verily, finland is a paradise for fishermen. a paradise for lines and rods, reels and flies, for masters of the piscatorial art; there are to be found freshwater lakes, and glorious rivers full of fish. some call it the heaven of anglers, and permission to fish can easily be obtained, and is absurdly inexpensive. the best-known spot is _harraka_, near _imatra_, because the english fishing club from st. petersburg found sport in those wonderful waters until they acquired _varpa saari_, an island a little farther down the river. the _saimen lake_ is about miles long, and the river _vuoksen_, which forms _imatra_, joins this fishing water with the famous _ladoga_, the largest lake in europe, which again empties itself into the sea by the _neva_. this is not a fishing-book, or pages might be written of happy hours spent with grayling or trout with a fly, or spinning from a boat with a minnow. kind reader, have you ever been driven in a _black maria_? that is, we believe, the name of the cumbersome carriage which conveys prisoners from one police-station to another, or to their prison home? we have; but it was not an english _black maria_, and, luckily, we were never anywhere taken from one police-station to another. our _black maria_ was the omnibus that plies between _imatra_ and _rättijärvi_, some twenty miles distant, where we travelled in order to catch the steamer which was to convey us down the famous _saimen canal_ back to our delightful _ilkeäsaari_ host, in time for the annual _johanni_ and the wonderful _kokko_ fires, more famous in finland to-day than the baal fires formerly were in britain. it was a beautiful drive; at least we gathered that it would have been a beautiful drive if we had not been shut up in the _black maria_. as it was, we were nearly jolted to death on the hardest of hard wooden seats, and arrived stiff, sore, and tired, with aching backs at _rättijärvi_. a good dinner, however, soon made us forget our miseries, though it really seemed as if we had come in a prison van, when, the moment our _black maria_ drew up at the small inn, a man rushed down the steps, seized upon our poor friend the _magister_ and began, violently gesticulating, to explain something about money. what on earth had the poor _magister_ done that he should be jumped on in this way? were we criminals without our knowledge, and was this our jailor who stood gesticulating, and scowling, and waving his arms about in excitement? we felt we must immediately produce our passports to prove our respectability, and, strong in our knowledge of innocence, were quite prepared to maintain our rights of freedom in spite of the appearance of any limb of finnish law. after all, it proved to be a mere flash in the pan. explanation was soon vouchsafed. we had driven that morning in a private carriage to _wallinkoski_ to see the wonderful fall below _imatra_, and the landlord, having forgotten to charge that journey in the bill, had allowed us to leave _imatra_ without paying for his beautiful equipage; discovering his mistake, however, as soon as our backs were turned, he had telephoned to the inn that we should send back the money by _black maria_. though we had so dishonestly departed without paying our just debts, nothing worse came of the matter. we might have been locked up in a finnish prison! we paid in coin for the carriage, and by our profound gratitude to the _magister_ and grandpapa, who had added so ably to our enjoyment. our time together for the moment was over, and once more my sister and i were alone. chapter ix "kokko" fires as we stood on the little pier at _rättijärvi_, waiting for the steamer which was to bear us down the beautiful _saimen canal_, we were somewhat horrified to find that the only other probable passengers were two men, both of whom were practically unable to keep on their feet. in honour of the day they had apparently been having a jollification, and it will ever remain a marvel to us that they did not tumble over the side of the pier--which had no railing--into the water beneath. it seemed almost impossible, under the circumstances, to believe that in the rural districts of finland generally there are no licensed houses, except in a few health resorts, where a medical man is stationed. also at a few railway stations _bona fide_ travellers may be supplied. there is a strict law against importing spirits at all into finland, while if more than ten litres are sent from one place to another in the country they are "subject to control." indeed, no person, unless licensed to sell spirits, is allowed to keep more than six litres in his house for every grown-up individual living in the establishment; and the same rigorous rules that apply to spirits are enforced against liqueurs which, when tried at a temperature of ° celsius, are found to contain more than twenty-two per cent. of alcohol. the temperance regulations are most stringent, and yet we are reluctantly obliged to own we saw a vast amount of drunkenness in _suomi_. small wonder, then, that the moment women became members of parliament the first thing they did was to legislate for the diminution of this lack of sobriety. the civic authorities can, and do, give the whole trade of wine, spirits, and liqueurs as a monopoly for two consecutive years to companies who undertake to sell, not for their own gain, but "in the interests of morality and sobriety;" three-fifths of the profits being paid to the town for general purposes of usefulness, and the remaining two-fifths to the state. as regards beer--in the country the county councils rule the selling, in the towns the civic authorities. the brewers are, however, allowed to sell beer, provided they do not give more than twenty-five litres to one person. the senate or the governor can, in some cases, grant special licenses, to sell wines and spirits to bathing-places, steamers, etc.,--from all of which careful, not to say stringent, regulations, it may be inferred that finland is rigorous as regards the drink question; wherefore strangers feel all the more surprised to meet inebriates so constantly, as we must, unfortunately, admit was the case when we were in finland. the two men rolling about at the end of the pier and, singing lustily, sadly disturbed our peace of mind, for my sister and i were going back to _ilkeäsaari_ alone, and as they seemed likely to be our only companions, we felt a couple of hours spent in such society would be rather more than we cared for. they might be affectionate or abusive, or they might even commit suicide, they were so deadly drunk. ah! what was that? emerging from a lock came a bower of greenery rather than a steamer. the little ship was literally covered, not only with branches, but with whole birch-trees, and very pretty she looked as she glided towards us, decorated for the famous _juhannus-ilta_ (midsummer day). taking hasty farewells of grandpapa and the _magister_, whom we were to meet again a week or two later, we hurried on board, and found to our joy that the unsteady finlanders were not allowed to follow us. with a puff and a whistle the steamer left such undesirable passengers behind, and the last we saw of them was fighting and struggling with one another, each man apparently imagining, in his muddled imbecility, that his own companion had kept him from going on board, whereas in reality the ticket-collector, now safely journeying with us, was the sole offender. it is a delightful journey down the famous _saimen canal_, and there was a particular charm about it that night, because, as evening advanced, great beacon fires illuminated the scene. this _canal_, which took eleven years to make, is very beautiful. it passes through twenty-eight locks, generally with a fall of about nine feet for each; that is to say, the entire fall is nearly three hundred feet. the canal is only wide enough for one ship to pass at a time, except at the _crossing_ places; and when steamers pass up or down, all other traffic has to draw into one of these sidings. we thoroughly enjoyed the beautiful night as we glided over that wonderful achievement of engineering skill. the locks were only just large enough to admit our steamer, and it really seemed as if but a few inches at either end and at the sides were to spare. it was midsummer day; the greatest day of the whole year in a finn's estimation. hence the decorations. we passed steamers all gaily festooned with the sacred birch, as our own little ship, and huge barges of wood ornamented in similar fashion floating down to the sea. picturesque little girls, with handkerchiefs tied over their heads, were running about on the banks selling wild strawberries. they were dressed in long skirts, which hung to their ankles, and wore no shoes or stockings. in spite of the terrific thunderstorm on the previous night, the thermometer had stood all day at about ° in the shade. as we glided along, a lurid black sky looked threatening behind us, while forked lightning--such forked lightning as we had never seen before--played games in the heavens. and yet, at the self-same time, on the other side was to be seen one of the most glorious sunsets that can possibly be imagined; one of those marvellous bits of colour which make those who behold it feel how inadequate are brush and canvas to reproduce such glorious tones. these finland skies and glorious nights, almost midnight suns, in june, july, and august, are worth the journey. the sunrises and sunsets of the arctic are more beautiful than in the tropics. we were now returning to finish our visit at _ilkeäsaari_, and, it being the finnish midsummer day, we had been compelled to hurry our trip from _sordavala_ somewhat, so as to be back in time to see the famous pagan _kokko_ fires. as is well known, it was--till comparatively recent times--the custom even in england to light on st. john's eve _bael_ or _baal_ fires, which were really a survival of pagan sun worship. all over finland _bael_ fires are still lighted on _juhannus-ilta_ (midsummer eve). the people look forward from year to year to these _kokko_ fires, as _juhanni_ is the great festival both for rich and poor. all is bustle and confusion on the rd of june, preparing for the event. then comes the lighting of the _kokko_, and, later in the evening, the _bond-dans_ or ball--no one apparently going to bed that night--which ball is followed by a universal holiday. as to the origin of the _kokko_ fires, no one in finland seems very certain. the custom must be a very ancient one, though it is continued universally in that little-known country to the present day. as a rule, the bonfire is lit on the top of a hill, or in places where there is water at the water's edge, preferably on a small island, or sometimes on a raft which, when ignited, is floated out over the surface of the lake. the th of june being about the brightest day in a land where, at that time of year, it is everlasting daylight, the effect of the brilliant artificial illumination is marred in consequence of the absence of a gloomy, weird, and mysteriously indistinct background of night, the sky in those high latitudes being, during the summer nights, never darker than it is in england at dawn. nevertheless, the _kokko_ are so big that they assert themselves, and as we sailed down the canal we must have passed a dozen or more of those flaming beacons. it is difficult to estimate their size. wood in finland is comparatively valueless; tar is literally made on the premises; consequently old tar-barrels are placed one on the top of another, branches, and even trunks of trees, surmount the whole, and the erection is some twenty or thirty feet high before it is ignited. imagine, then, the flames that ascend when once the magic match fires the much-betarred heap. for hours and hours those _kokko_ fires burnt. indeed, it would be considered ill luck if they did not smoulder through the whole of the night. and it is round such festive flames that the peasant folks gather to dance and sing and play games, and generally celebrate the festival of the ancient god _bael_. the large landed proprietors invite their tenantry to these great ceremonies, and for hours before it is time to light the fire, boats are arriving laden with guests. when we landed about ten o'clock on the private pier at _ilkeäsaari_, at which we had asked our captain to set us ashore, we were warmly met by our former hostess, and told that their _kokko_ was ready and only waiting our arrival to be ignited. so away we all sped to the other side of the island to see the fun. all the members of the family had assembled--some thirty or forty people, in fact, for finland is famous for big families--and tables of cakes and coffee were spread at a point from which every one could see the enormous _kokko_, as high as a haystack, standing on a lonely rock in the water. the boatmen went off and lighted it, having thrown turpentine over the dried branches, and stacked up tar-barrels, so that it might the more readily catch fire, and in a few moments huge volumes of smoke began to ascend, and the flames danced high into the heavens. great tongues of fire leapt and sprung on high, only to be reflected in all their glory in the smooth waters below. peering down an avenue of pine-trees to the lake beyond, that fire looked very grand--a splendid relic of ancient heathenism. every one sang as the _kokko_ burst into flame. the general of the garrison, the dapper young lieutenant, the dear old grandmother, the men and women students of the party in their pretty white caps, the children dressed as dear little swedish peasants--all joined the choruses; while behind were the servants and the real peasants themselves. the tenants had come over the water to enjoy the fun at their master's home in boats so gaily decorated and garnished with huge boughs of the sacred birch-tree that the boat itself was almost hidden. finnish singing is generally rather weird chanting, sad and melancholy, but not without a strange fascination, and the way a number of odd people in that huge assembly could sing together, each taking his or her own part, without any previous practice, again showed the marvellous amount of music inborn in the finlander. it was a beautiful night. the rich shades of the sunset fighting the warm colours of the flames, the gurgling of the water, and the surging of the peasants' boats, or the swish of their oars as they rowed to the festival in gay holiday attire, was something to be remembered--something picturesque and almost barbaric. the surroundings were poetical, the scene weird, the music delightful, and a glowing lustre overspread it all as the ascending flames shed lurid lights on the faces of the spectators, while the rocks on which we stood reflected the warm colours caught by the trunks of the pine-trees, whose tops soared heavenwards as though trying to kiss the fleeting clouds. laughter and merriment rent the air, as youth mingled with age, riches with poverty, in true happiness, for was it not _juhannus-ilta_--a night when all must be gay! gradually, as the time wore on, the fires burnt low, the lights and reflections became less and less distinct on the water, the shadows of evening fell, and the dew of night was in the air; then, and not till then, did we repair to a huge room adjoining the house, used for the grandchildren to play in during summer, or for weddings and such like festivals, and here the family, the guests, the servants, and the peasants danced. it was like a tenants' ball at a scotch castle or irish domain, with a touch of greater novelty. finnish dances are strange; a young man spies a young woman, he rushes at her, seizes her by the waist, dances lustily, and then lets her go as if she were a hot potato. but that night there was a hero--a real live hero--the native of a neighbouring village, who had been away in america for seven years, and just returned rich and prosperous, and full of adventures, to his fatherland. his advent had been awaited with keen interest by all the village maids; rivalry for his favours ran rife. every girl in the place was dying to talk to him, to dance with him, and he, in return, told them "how beautiful every woman was in america, how they talked, and sang, and danced, and laughed, and how america was enchanting," until all the maids grew jealous. we slipped off to bed at midnight, tired after our tedious journey, and anxious to read quietly the bundles of letters from folk at home, which had been awaiting our return, but the _bond-dans_ went on till breakfast-time, for a finn who cannot dance the _jenka_ all through the midsummer night is not considered worthy of his country. the festivals continued all the next day for those who were not too sleepy to enjoy them. chapter x women and education before describing our own life in a haunted castle, with its joys and its fears, we must pause and reflect on two of the most important factors in finnish life--the position of women, and the excellence of education. for it is the present advancement of both that will make a future for _suomi_, and even to-day can teach us much. in the population of finland numbered two and a half millions, which included-- females , , males , , _________ total , , in the figures were-- females , , males , , _________ total , , these figures show that there has been a large preponderance of the female sex, and though in the last twenty years this surplus has diminished by one half, it may perhaps in some measure account for the wonderful way in which women have pushed themselves to the front and ceased to look upon matrimony as the only profession open to the sex. the system of public instruction is making rapid progress. the expenses of primary education are divided between the state and the communes, while those of the higher education generally fall on the state. the finnish university, founded in , is maintained by the latter, and includes four faculties. in the first woman matriculated at the university, three years later another followed suit, but until they were alone, when two others joined them. it was very difficult in those days to obtain permission to enter for the matriculation; as will be seen, there are at present a large number of female students, several of whom have taken degrees in medicine, dentistry, arts, law, and science. the woman question is now one of great moment in finland, but the first book published on the subject only appeared in may . this _calendar of women's work_ was really a great undertaking, and the statistics and materials to complete it were collected by more than a thousand agents of both sexes, the senate giving a grant of three thousand marks to pay for the printing expenses. its object was, by giving careful tables of employment, and names and addresses of employers, to enable young women readily to find a vocation. beginning by a historic sketch, it showed how finnish linen was famous as early as , and how taxes were paid by such means at that time. it pointed out the present great desire to increase home industries, and stated that out of five hundred and thirty parishes applied to, four hundred had sent to the women's association asking for help in the formation of schools, or loan of patterns and models, implements and tools. it noticed how, in , a vast number of women were employed upon the land: peasants, farmers, cottagers, and , agricultural servants; we must remember finnish women are physically strong and well-fitted for agricultural work. it showed how dairy work was being much taken up by women, who tended the cows, milked them, made the butter, for which they obtained prizes, and went on to notice how gardening was being developed in the country, and how it might further be undertaken with advantage. there are in fourteen dairying schools, thirty-seven schools for the care of cattle, and twelve housekeeping and gardening schools--all for women. in fact, one cannot travel through finland without being struck by the position of women on every side. it may, of course, arise from the fact that the finns are poor, and, large families not being uncommon, it is impossible for the parents to keep their daughters in idleness; and as no country is more democratic than finland, where there is no court and little aristocracy, the daughters of senators and generals take up all kinds of work. whatever the cause, it is amazing to find the vast number of employments open to women, and the excellent way in which they fill these posts. there is no law to prevent women working at anything they choose. amongst the unmarried women it is more the exception than the rule to find them idle, and instead of work being looked upon as degrading, it is admired on all sides, especially teaching, which is considered one of the finest positions for a man or woman in finland. and it is scientific teaching, for they learn how to impart knowledge to others, instead of doing it in a dilatory and dilettante manner, as so often happens elsewhere. we were impressed by the force and the marvellous energy and splendid independence of the women of _suomi_, who became independent workers long before their sisters in britain. all this is particularly interesting with the struggle going on now around us, for to our mind it is remarkable that so remote a country, one so little known and so unappreciated, should have thus suddenly burst forth and hold the most advanced ideas for both men and women. that endless sex question is never discussed. there is no sex question in finland, _men and women are practically equals_, and on that basis society is formed. sex equality has always been a characteristic of the race, as we find from the ancient _kalevala_ poem. in spite of advanced education, in spite of the emancipation of women (which is erroneously supposed to work otherwise), finland is noted for its morality, and, indeed, stands among the nations of europe as one of the most virtuous. there is no married woman's property act, all property being owned jointly by husband and wife. this is called the marriage right. in the excellent pamphlet printed for the chicago exhibition, we find the following:-- marriage _marriageable age._--according to the law which is now in force, a girl need be no more than fifteen years of age in order to be marriageable. very few girls, however, marry at such an early age. among the peasantry, women, as a rule, marry earlier than they do among the cultivated classes. _the solemnisation of marriages._--according to the law of , which remained valid until , a spinster could not marry without the consent of her father, or, if he were dead, of her mother. both parents being dead, this duty devolved upon the eldest male member of the family. in the year ( st october) a law was enacted according to which girls, after their twenty-first year, are free to marry without the consent of either father or mother. for a marriage to be lawful the banns must be read from the pulpit on three several sundays, and the marriage ceremony must be performed by a clergyman. _statutes of ._--in the statutes of the law on antenuptial marriage agreements was altered to the advantage of the wife. by means of antenuptial agreements a woman may now not only retain as her special property whatever she possessed before marriage, and whatever she may have, after marriage, inherited, received as a gift, or as a legacy, but she may also _reserve for herself the right of taking charge of and managing her own property and the income thereof_. in , a law was passed enacting that no girl under the age of seventeen years should marry. how much wiser than in england. as soon as the marriage ceremony has been performed, "the husband becomes the natural guardian of his wife," is responsible for her and manages _their_ property. in spite, however, of a woman being under the legal guardianship of her husband, there is probably no country where women are held in more reverence and respect than in finland. while in germany the middle class _hausfrau_ takes a back seat, hardly speaking before her lord and master, and being in many cases scarcely better than a general servant (of the jack-of-all-trades and master of none class), doing a little cooking, seeing to the dusting and cleaning, helping make the beds, wash the children, and everlastingly producing her big basket of _handarbeit_, the finnish woman, although just as domesticated, is less ostentatious in her performance of such duties, and, like her sisters in england, attends to her household matters in the morning, according to a regulated plan worked out for herself; trains her servants properly, and, having set the clock going for the day, expects the machinery to work. every decent household should be managed on some such plan, and we all know that the busier the woman the more comfortable, as a rule, she makes her home; the mere fact of her having an occupation, inspires those about her to work. added to which, the busy woman knows order and method are the only means by which satisfactory results can possibly be obtained, and that order and method which she has acquired herself she is able to teach her less-educated domestics, or anyway inspire them with it. idle people are always apparently busy; but it is the business of muddle, while really busy people always have time for everything, and keep everything in its place. finnish ladies are thoroughly well educated. they are musical and artistic, beautiful needle-women, manage their homes well, and they have read enough to join in any discussion in which they take an interest. they are, consequently, treated by their husbands as equals, and although until they had no political rights, women were much employed in government services. they were not debarred from becoming members of the great societies. for instance, as far back as , among the two hundred and twelve fellows that composed the geographical society of finland there were seventy-three women, yet in our royal geographical society shrieked at the idea of woman entering their portals. the swedish literary society, with thirteen hundred members, has eighty-two women on its books. the same with the philanthropic societies, music, art, etc. in fact, all doors are open to women. ladies have done much for the cause of temperance, and in all philanthropic movements they are busy; they have organised schools for the deaf, dumb, blind, and crippled, and look after night shelters, mothers' unions, ragged unions, rescue homes, working homes for children, benevolent societies, etc. the pamphlet, speaking of unmarried women, also says-- _rights of unmarried women enlarged._--in (on the st of october) _the position of unmarried women_ was improved. according to the law that was then enacted, an unmarried woman-- . when she has reached her fifteenth year, may take charge of whatever she may earn. . when she has reached her twenty-first year she may manage her own property, if she chooses to do so, provided that she informs the court of her intention. . when she has reached her twenty-fifth year she is of age, and may manage her own property without informing the court thereof. _rights of inheritance._--in the beginning of the swedish rule our country probably conformed to the old swedish laws and regulations, according to which women had a right to _inherit property_ only in cases where there were no male heirs. _legislation of birger jarl: women inherited one-third._--in the middle of the thirteenth century, finnish (as well as swedish) women were awarded the right of inheriting _a third part_ of the property left by their parents, whereas two-thirds accrued to the male heirs. for this improvement our women were indebted to birger jarl, the great swedish legislator and statesman, who bears an honoured name in our history. many exceptions, however, were made to this rule. where the father was a landowner, for instance, the principal estate always descended to the son, whereas the daughter had to be content with some smaller estate of less value, or with part of the personal property. _legislation of : daughters and sons of town people, etc., inherit equal shares._--such was the state of things for several centuries, till it was at last changed somewhat for the better when the law of came into force. this law decreed that the sons and daughters of commoners living in towns, and those of the clergy, were to inherit _equal shares_. the daughters of the nobility and of all landowners in the country, however, remained in the same position as before. _law now in force: daughters and sons inherit equal shares._--this lasted nearly one and a half centuries, until _in all classes of society_ the daughters received the right of inheriting _equal shares_ with the sons, which they did, according to a law enacted on th june . _hence finnish women now possess the same rights of inheritance as men._ the latter, however, still in some cases have the advantage over women; _e.g._ where there is landed property to be inherited and the principal estate cannot be conveniently divided, then the brother or male heir is entitled to purchase the sister's part. the benefit thus accruing to the son injures the position of the daughter, in case the brother is a spendthrift or unable to pay the sum which represents her share of the paternal estate. among the peasantry it is still customary to buy off the daughter with a small sum of money, regardless of what the true value of the estate may be, or with part of the personality, so that the male heir may have the whole of the estate. divorce is somewhat uncommon in finland. indeed, next to belgium, that country shows the smallest number of divorced marriages; still divorce may be granted on the following grounds:-- on the plea of adultery. it is not, however, enough for the guilty party to acknowledge his or her guilt, which must be fully proved, as well as the time when, the place where, and the person with whom, it was committed. if either husband or wife have, after the betrothal but before the marriage, committed adultery with some one else, and this is made known after marriage, the innocent party may claim a divorce, if he or she demand it. the law is in this respect severer with women than with men; for if a husband be informed of his wife having been seduced by some one else before her betrothal with him, he has the right to claim divorce from her, but the wife has not the same right _vice versâ_. on the plea of deliberate desertion or prolonged absence. if either husband or wife absent himself or herself from home and do not return within a year after, the other party having inserted in the official newspapers of the country an advertisement calling on him or her to return, the one who remained at home has the right to sue for a divorce. far more marriages are marred by incompatibility of temper than by actual immorality, and, surely, if two people find they have made a mistake, and are irritants instead of sedatives to one another, they should not be left to champ and fret like horses at too severe a bit, for all their long sad lives--to mar one another's happiness, to worry their children, and annoy their friends. our hideously cruel separation orders merely encourage immorality. finland shows us an excellent example. the very fact of being able to get free makes folk less inclined to struggle at their chains. if life is intolerable to mrs. jones in finland, away she goes by herself; at the end of a year mr. jones advertises three times in the paper for his wife or for information that will lead to his knowing her whereabouts; no one responds, and mr. jones can sue for and obtain a divorce without any of those scandalous details appearing in the press which are a disgrace to english journalism. if either husband or wife be sentenced to imprisonment for life. besides these cases, which are set forth in the law as sufficient causes for divorce, there are other circumstances in consequence of which a marriage may be dissolved,--but only by means of direct application to the emperor and grand duke of finland, who may grant it as a favour. a divorced wife is considered as a widow; she has no more duties toward her husband, and can dispose of her person as well as of her property. a divorced couple may peaceably settle all about the children; but if they cannot do this, the innocent parent is entitled to take charge of them. both parents must contribute means for their maintenance and education. since , women in finland have had exactly the same political rights as men. practically every man and woman over twenty-four years of age may not only vote for parliament, but is also eligible as a member. at the election of , nineteen women members were returned; this number has fluctuated, however, and in there are but fourteen women members. they also have municipal rights. unmarried women, widows, and divorced women, provided they submitted to the necessary conditions, were given the municipal vote in . women are members of school boards, poor law guardians, and are eligible as members of several other municipal and parochial boards; but they may not be chosen for town councils or the corresponding councils in rural parishes. in the diet passed a new law concerning the municipal vote, giving equal rights to men and women, but that law being very radical had--four years later--not received the sanction of the sovereign. in the matter of education finland is most advanced; and the fees all up the scale from folk-schools to the university itself are extremely low. the folk-schools in were attended by , children, which was . per cent. of the population. the same year there were female teachers and male teachers in the folk-schools. every country commune has at least one permanent folk-school, but most have several. there are besides these, ambulatory schools, where teachers visit remote villages and hold classes, in order that children may not suffer by being a long distance from a folk-school. besides the folk-schools there are secondary schools, most of them leading up to the university. these numbered, in , one hundred and twenty-seven. seventy-four of them are mixed schools, and twenty-seven for boys only, the other twenty-six being for girls. many preparatory schools exist under private auspices, over which there is no state inspection. the better-class children go to the secondary schools, though they are open to all classes, the fees being only thirty-two shillings per annum, with a reduction for brothers or sisters, and per cent. of the whole number of pupils are received free of charge. in the private schools the annual fee varies, but rarely rises above ten pounds. in helsingfors the salaries for teachers in folk-schools are different for men and women, the latter receiving from to marks a year, and the men from to nearly marks per annum. in the country communes, however, salaries are now the same for men and women; but a teacher with a family dependent on him receives a bonus in addition to the salary, and this applies to men and women equally. could anything be better? truly, a eugenic doctrine in the best sense. could we in england not learn one of our many needed lessons in education from finland on this point? all are entitled to a pension after thirty years' service. beyond the folk-schools are practical continuation classes for needlework, cooking, weaving, household work, and book-keeping. and then, again, there are people's colleges for both sexes aged about eighteen, for the advancement of culture and knowledge, and to kindle noble impulses. one of these people's colleges was established by a woman for women, and has now obtained a grant from the public funds. besides all the foregoing there are normal institutes or seminaries for folk-school teachers of both sexes; six of these seminaries are for finnish folk-school teaching, and two for swedish ones. the instruction is free, candidates must be eighteen years of age, and the subjects are:--biblical history and the bible, christianity and moral philosophy, popular psychology, pedagogics and the science of teaching, school-keeping, the mother tongue and the reading of suitable works in it, mathematics, geography, history, the statistics of finland, natural history, calligraphy, writing of short essays, drawing and modelling, singing and instrumental music, elementary anatomy, physiology, and the care of small children according to the laws of hygiene. to all this long list there are added for female students, instruction in needlework and weaving, housekeeping, and gardening; and for the male, _slöjd_, gardening, and fieldwork. there are also state high schools for girls doing excellent work. the amount of salaries at the state high schools for girls. +-------------------------------+---------+------------+-----------+ | | no. of | salary-- | salary | | | lessons | marks | increased | | | a week | (finnish | after | | | | currency). | fifteen | | | | | years. | +-------------------------------+---------+------------+-----------+ | lady principal (lodgings free | | | | | of charge) | | | | | teachers (female) | | | | | assistant teachers (female)-- | | | | | drawing and calligraphy | | | | | singing | | | | | gymnastics | | | | | "kollega" (male or female) | | | | | senior | | | | | "kollega" (male or female) | | | | | junior | | | | +-------------------------------+---------+------------+-----------+ in _helsingfors_ and _wiborg_, where the living is more expensive than in other finnish towns, the principals and the lady teachers (but not the "kollegas") are in receipt of an addition to their salaries. thus in _helsingfors_ a lady principal receives from the beginning marks, and after fifteen years' service, . although this does not sound high remuneration, it must be remembered that salaries and expenses are proportionately low in _suomi_. every woman entering the university must obtain permission from the chancellor. he always grants it now, though formerly he often refused. there are, in , women out of a total of students--that is, per cent. there is no general annual fee at the university; at matriculation every student pays thirty-six shillings, and there is a small extra charge for the use of the laboratories; and, of course, students needing special instruction in any particular subject pay their professor a separate fee, about a pound per annum. in addition there are small fees for the examinations. men and women pay exactly the same, and enter for the same examinations, working side by side. the first woman to take a degree at the university (_bacca laureate_) was _fröken emma irene aström_ in , when she was appointed professor (_lector_) at one of the seminaries for the education of folk-school teachers. in the finnish women's association was formed, having obtained permission from the state for their name. their object is to work for the elevation of their sex, intellectually and morally, and to better women's social and economical position. thirty years have seen the formation of many such societies; perhaps the greatest of them is an association called "martha," similar to our english mothers' union. its purpose is to approach the different classes and to heighten the standard of life among the poor by developing the women's ability in housekeeping and educating their children. it is spread all over the country, and has more than a hundred and fifty affiliated associations. as we have already noticed, women follow many occupations which in the british islands are regarded as entirely men's employments--bricklaying, carpentry, paper-hanging, slaughtering, ship-loading, were all to be found in the returns, when i was in the country, under _women's work_. in public offices they were constantly employed long before women in britain were recognised as capable of doing clerical work on a large scale; and even now, while our banks are staffed entirely by men, women in finland are largely employed as clerks in banks as well as in insurance offices. they monopolise the telephone, and are in great request as compositors. but turning to the more domestic duties of women; the finns are as thorough in these as in other branches of education. it was at one time rather a fashion for the young ladies of finland to go over to sweden and enter what is called a _hushållskola_, the literal translation of which is a "household school." they are taught cooking, laundry-work, weaving, dressmaking, house-maid's work, everything, in fact, that a woman could possibly want to know if she were left without any servants, or even on a desert island. they are practically instructed how to garden, they are sent marketing, they are taught to fish, and, having landed their prey, how to clean and cook it. in fact, they are fitted to be maids-of-all-work, skilled labourers and sportsmen, at one and the same time. the full course occupies about eighteen months, and met with such success in sweden that finlanders have now organised several _hushållskola_ in finland itself. in one _wibeleins_ started a sort of technical education scheme. he printed books to further the weaving trade, gave prizes for spun thread, etc., to encourage the old trade then dying away--for women in the time of _kalevala_ wove, embroidered, spun, and worked in silver and bronze, at least so say the bards. indeed, in , _Åbo_ linen was so famous that it was always used by the king of sweden, therefore it is not surprising that weaving is still quite a pastime among finnish ladies, and every cottager knows how to ply her shuttle. where it has fallen into disuse women go about the country to teach and revive the decaying industry. it is very sad when old trades disappear in rural districts, for nothing can take their place. no modern factories are started near at hand to employ the folk, and the result is they give up their old occupations and too often do not take to new instead. for instance, the once famous lace of _raumo_, formerly sent in large quantities to sweden and russia (the thread came from england), was almost a forgotten art; but as with us, care has been taken to restore these old local industries, and _raumo_ lace-making is now in a most flourishing state. the many employments open to women do not make the more fortunate forget those in trouble. nursing the sick is a favourite profession in finland, the emolument varying from two to six hundred marks per annum, in addition to board, etc. massage is a very old institution, so ancient that every village since the olden times has had at least one rubbing woman, as they call her. in the country they are generally given food in payment, but in towns from twenty-five penni to a mark for the time occupied. so many women do massage that really every one seems to know something about it, and one almost feels that massage must have originated in _suomi_. it is certainly a great feature of finnish life; and in addition to these massage women, who work for next to nothing, and who are merely peasant women, there are now everywhere in finland highly trained masseuses, or, as they prefer to be called, "sick-gymnasts." the university maintains courses, lasting for three years, for the training of such "sick-gymnasts," and the pupils are very often ladies from the best families. a qualified "sick-gymnast" often gets a remunerative practice, and may make an annual income of , marks or more. the physical development of women is given a high place in the school curriculum in finland, as was instanced in the olympic games at stockholm in , when a group of finnish girls proved by their suppleness of body and gymnastic proficiency that the traditions of southern greece are ably maintained to-day in finland in the north. one must not leave the subject of women in _suomi_ without touching upon their achievements in literature and the sister arts. the earliest woman writer was _sarah wacklin_ ( - ), who has left a valuable record of finnish life in the first years of the nineteenth century. her successors took up the question of the rights of women, and their emancipation; and the works of _mrs. fredrika runeberg_ ( - ) and _miss adelaide ehrnroth_ both set forth the arguments of the cause most strongly, not only in articles and pamphlets, but in novels of a high standard. since then many women have entered their names on the roll of the country's literature, and, strangely enough, the two girls i chaperoned through finland--for, of course, being married i could act as a chaperone--were so inspired by the work of writing and its manifold interests, that both of them took to the pen later, and one is known to-day as _paul waineman_, and the other as _baroness léonie aminoff_. when we went to _kuopio_ we hoped to meet _minna canth_, one of the first finnish writers in the country, whose powers as a dramatist we had learnt at _sordavala_. we inquired where she lived, and found that she had a drapery store. every one in finland works in some way, and, all work being considered honourable, the shopkeeper is equal to the noble. _minna canth's_ husband died some years ago, and being left with a family, she started this store, and certainly, when one realised that she was a woman with children to look after, that she wrote much--which we know takes time--it is perfectly wonderful how she could find energy and leisure to look after her shop. yet it was so, and the business was in a most flourishing condition. finnish lady artists for the first time received international prizes and medals at the great world's exhibition in paris in the year . of the achievements of finland's women artists during the last twenty years i must not write in detail, for finland has forged ahead in art as in other matters. at the time of my first visit, few finnish women had devoted themselves to sculpture, and only one--_miss sigrid af forselles_--had accomplished really good work. but to-day she no longer stands alone. already we see the first generation that benefited by the recognition of the power of women enjoying the prime of early manhood and womanhood; and it is certain that in the enormous upheaval in the old order of things that is going on all over the world, _suomi_ will hold her own in the forefront of education, for the learning of the mother must prove a valuable asset in moulding the characters of the citizens of the future. chapter xi a haunted castle the bells rang! it was four a.m. when the ship _concordia_, which had been our home for thirty-six hours, arrived at _nyslott_, one of the small towns which are sparsely scattered over finland. _nyslott_ is famous for two things: its very modern "bath cure" accompanied by a "kasino"--of which french watering-places need have no jealousy--and, by way of extreme from such modernity, its other attraction is an old ruined castle, built originally in . the castle is the most perfect left in finland, and its position is certainly the most picturesque, for it stands quite alone on an island of rock, round which the current forms endless whirlpools. it is built with sharp buttresses, and once had five towers, of which, alas, only three remain, but those three are very perfect. what stories that castle could tell of wars and sieges, of russian and swedish possessors, of catholic and lutheran sway, and of cruelty too horrible to dwell upon, although one cannot help realising its possibilities after entering the little dark cell in which two men were built up to live together in darkness and in hunger till death ended their sufferings. the roman catholic chapel still remains; windowless, save for a small hole over the stone altar, which certainly suggests artificial light having been thrown from behind on some sacred relic or picture--a theatrical effect not unknown to that faith. its uneven stone floor, and its niches for the sacramental cup, all remain in weird darkness to remind one of ages long gone by. in turn the castle has been catholic, lutheran, and greek--so three persuasions have had their sway, and each has left its mark. our thoughtful friend, grandpapa, whom we had left a fortnight before at _rättijärvi_, was waiting for us at _nyslott_, or rather, a moment after the ship stopped at the quayside in the early dawn of morning, he arrived, accompanied by a man in a boat, one of those regular finnish boats pointed at each end known as a _kuiru_. "where are we to live?" we called, over the side. "in the castle, as you wished," was the reply; and overjoyed at the prospect of anything so romantic, we quickly transferred ourselves and our baggage into the boat below. "i'm very anxious about this arrangement," said our youthful old friend. "when i arrived a fortnight ago, and found there was not a room to be had in the town, i was in despair; after wandering from house to house, again i beseeched the little hotel to take me in; but even their sofas were occupied. however, determining not to leave _nyslott_ till i had seen the famous castle, i got a boat and rowed across. _veni, vidi, vici_--for i persuaded the watchman to put me up for the night, and there i am still. when, yesterday, i could find no habitation for you, i reluctantly telegraphed that the town was full and i was only put up by the _vahtimestari_ of the castle. imagine my horror when i got your reply--'_arrive_ a.m., _arrange stay castle_.'" "were you so very much horrified?" we laughed. "we thought it would be such fun, and so delightfully romantic." "it was no fun to me. i felt utterly taken aback, and went off to consult an artist friend, who was painting the queer old place. "'nonsense, my dear fellow,' he said, 'you can't lodge ladies in this barrack. it's all very well for two watchmen, or for you, if you like, to rough it--but for women--nonsense, it is impossible.' "'but,' i remarked, 'they are very enterprising, and one of them, who is writing a book, loves queer corners, odd experiences, and native life.' "'i daresay,' replied he, 'but this castle, i repeat, is impossible, especially for englishwomen, who are all accustomed to much luxury.' "back into the town i went again to try for rooms, but without success. what was to be done? you were on the way, time was growing short, and i had arranged nothing. so once more to my watchman i returned and told him my awful dilemma, and the depths of my despair. he so thoroughly entered into the spirit of the thing, that he promised to do the best he could, and in an hour's time he had arranged for extra towels and a few necessaries to be sent over from the town." "delightful!" we exclaimed; "what a dear man! it is like a romance in a story book." "but my story is not finished," grandpapa replied, with a rueful face; "we had set to work to sweep, and brush, and clean with a will, in order to make the room more worthy of its occupants, when the _vahtimestari_ suddenly said-- "'i'm afraid, after all, you will have to go and get permission from the mayor, or i may get into trouble for allowing ladies to sleep in this ruined castle.'" here was an adventure. our hearts quailed a little as we waited breathlessly for the finish of the story. "i got into the boat," went on our friend, "pulled on shore, and set off to the mayor, in order to obtain permission for you to sleep there. at first he sternly refused. "'ridiculous!' he said, 'bats and owls, goblins and ghosts! that is not a fit home for ladies--ridiculous, and quite impossible.' "i explained and argued, told him how enterprising you were, and how well versed in travel, and at last he gave in, saying, 'well, the old castle has withstood many sieges, and it is hard it must give in without powder or shot to two englishwomen.' "thus his reluctant permission was granted, and away i came triumphant. you are to have the watchmen's room, they the kitchen, and i am to sleep in the lutheran church, which chances to have a roof." we were delighted, and at once started for our haunted castle. we rowed away to our island home, and, when we appreciated the difficulty of steering through the fast-running whirlpool, to the only gate with its fine portcullis, we realised we were indeed on adventure bent. it was barely dawn, and as we swept over the seething waters, and stood under the ancient archway, we felt like mary queen of scots before the gates of fotheringay. we were indeed triumphantly triumphant. far from the whistle of a train, right in the interior of finland, standing beneath the portals of a famous castle virtually ruined and uninhabited--we felt at home. the streaks of early morning sunlight lent enchantment to the romantic surroundings, as we wandered along queer passages, where the walls varied from five to fifteen feet thick, peeped into cellars and dungeons, and bending our heads under norman arches, at last entered the first courtyard. we saw mysterious winding staircases, generally spiral, leading up and down into deep dark mystery. certainly so far the ruins did not look as though they would protect any one from wind and rain, and we passed on, through walls that seemed impregnable, to ruined chambers, utterly roofless, in and out of which pigeons were flying happily at their sweet will. the second courtyard was gravelled; but round its sides tangled beds of syringa in full flower, red and black currants nearly ripe, pretty wild roses and lilac almost looked homely, while white and yellow marguerites shadowed dear little wild strawberries, and a general air of naturalness prevailed. we had reached the very centre of our enchanted castle! how often had this courtyard been the scene of revelry, of tournaments and joustings, at which lovely woman had smiled and distributed her favours from the surrounding battlements. "there is your room," exclaimed grandpapa at last, pointing to a modern little bit of building erected for the custodian's use, in which, sure enough, was a real glass window. up the modern steps we mounted, to find a nice big room, poorly furnished, 'tis true, with one bed and a garden seat, two wooden chairs and a long wooden school bench, a table on which stood a brown earthenware bowl, and a large glass water carafe, that glass bottle which had haunted us since we set foot in finland. the bench was to do duty for washstand and the impedimenta thereto. the wooden floor was delightfully scrubbed, and what mattered the simplicity when all was so delightfully clean! lo and behold, a bouquet of flowers stood in a tumbler on the table, the votive offering of the finnish custodian himself; a charming welcome to his english visitors. out of this large bare chamber led a dear little kitchen, and farther along a passage and up some stairs we came to the old church--capable of seating a couple of hundred persons, although it did not really possess a single seat--which was to serve as grandpapa's bedroom. churches invariably do service for sleepers even to-day in iceland, where hotels are practically non-existent, except in two or three instances, and even habitations are few and far between.[c] so this was to be for a brief space our home; a real, wild, weird, romantic home, seated on its rocky island away from the world, away from every sign of life save pigeons or bats; full of grim spirits--if tradition were to be believed--and nightly walked by strange women and blood-stained men--for stories there are in plenty concerning the great castle of _olavin linna_ as the finns call it, at _savonlinna_, the finnish name for _nyslott_. we wandered everywhere: we peered into all the mysteries. verily a ruin. mounting to an upper floor by the solid stone steps outside, we found ourselves in another chamber, the roof of which was supported by rafters, through the thick walls of which a long dark passage led us round two sides of the courtyard, passing a small tower by the way from which we could see yet another court, whose wide grass-grown ramparts overhung the rapidly-flowing current of the lake. here was the hall of the knights, a long and dark chamber--so dark, in fact, that we wondered how any one had ever been able to see clearly in it. on all sides were rooms and pitch-black dungeons, for at the time the castle was built ( ) the powers-that-were thought nothing of shutting people up in dark little holes, where they left them to die, and the _olavin linna_ seems to have been particularly rich in such choice chambers. from where we stood, a few steps up a winding staircase led us to a big tower containing a large round room, called the ladies' drawing-room. the dames of that period certainly had a glorious view all round for miles and miles, although they were far removed from the life going on below. from this point of vantage we saw how the castle literally covered the whole of the rock, and occupied a most commanding position where three lakes met. as we wandered down again, we chanced into a queer sort of chamber, wherein half a dozen weird straggling trees struggled to exist. it was almost dark; the storms of winter could rustle through those blank windows, and the trees were white, and gray, and sickly--more like phantoms than real trees--so queer and withered and pale and anæmic were their leaves, and yet they stood eight or ten feet high, showing they had boldly struggled for life. after having thus gained a general idea, snatched a sort of bird's-eye view of this strange castle, we returned to our room and investigated its capabilities. there was _one_ small bed, already honourably mentioned, and a garden seat--one of those well-known benches made of thin wooden laths, with a rounded uncomfortable seat and back. "could we manage with such meagre accommodation?" grandpapa asked timorously, "or must another bed be hired; that is to say, if another bed can be hired, or bought, in a town already overcrowded." we looked at our friend's troubled face, and, feeling we had already caused him a sad amount of inconvenience, valiantly replied, "we will manage." and manage we did. to the "elderly scribe" was allotted the bed, a very finely carved wooden erection; but let me at once own that, although i had slept on hay in a tent in other lands, passed a night on a dining-room table, several on the floor, and in deck-chairs, i never slept in anything quite so "knobby" as that extraordinary bed. a lump here, and a lump there, always seemed to select the most inconvenient part of one's frame to stick in, and sometimes getting on a nerve quite numbed the spot. after the first night i asked the _vahtimestari_ to turn and knead the mattress, which he cheerfully promised to do, and no doubt did. but all his turning and pounding was perfectly useless, so after a second restless night, which left me beautifully black and blue from head to foot, i determined to investigate the mysteries of that bed for myself. when i removed the under-sheet a bewildering problem was solved. on the top of the mattress lay an enormous coat, lined throughout with black sheepskin. its double-rolled collar had made a huge ridge down the middle of my back, across which a thick waist-belt had not unsuccessfully tried to form a bridge--the sleeves could only be accounted mountains, while innumerable buttons had left their impress on every inch of my body! i felt very sorry for my flesh that morning! four nights passed on a hard garden seat does not sound entrancing; nevertheless, on such a non-captivating couch, my sister, helped by rugs and a pillow, slept the sleep of the just, and of youth. her "plank bed" may have been--nay, certainly must have been--hard, and the castle certainly was primitive, but everything, bedding included, was spotlessly clean, and, after all, cleanliness and a quiet conscience compensate for much--anyhow she slept; that is a fact for which i can vouch. during the first night of our stay at _nyslott_ one of us lay and dreamed a semi-waking dream, in which the old rock--nature's fortress--appeared in the lake bleak, bare, grim, and lonely until , when the first stones of _olavin linna_ were laid. after that the scene suddenly shifted, and the bloody battles of , when _nyslott_ was taken by the russians, were again fought for the benefit of a new spectator, only, as it seemed, for the castle to be given back four years later to finland! a very curious reminiscence to occur to any person's mind between "sleeping and waking." later on, that over-tired traveller mused dreamily on the three periods of history, pictured scenes during the two hundred and sixty-eight years of swedish sovereignty, the half century under russian sway, and the more modern happenings under finnish rule, its troubles practically ended in , from which date they have been but a souvenir in the history of europe. _olavin linna_ was the spot around which three different races met and struggled; the russians, the finns, and the swedes. the russians with their superior numbers, their riches, and their sharpness, pushed the finns towards the north and took their country, the now northern half of russia in europe. the swedes came and conquered the slavs; founded a dynasty and called their state russia (_i.e._ sweden, _ruotsi_ being the finnish name for sweden to this day). the swedes also conquered the remaining part of ancient finland, and introduced christianity, and the strong and freedom-loving scandinavian law. the struggle now remained between the scandinavians and the slavs--between a democratic and courageous race and an oligarchic and diplomatic one. then our castle--our own--for had we not conquered it?--was built on the frontier to resist the inroads of the slavs. but again the russians were triumphant. sweden succumbed, while russia took the remainder of ancient finland. since then russia has become a great power. alexander i. granted to that part of finland, imbued with scandinavian law, the privilege of considering itself a nation, and continuing its former laws and government. under this state of things the country grew prosperous. it arose and shook itself from its dormant existence of the previous six hundred years, collected its own traditions, and worked hard for education, so that it might continue a distinct race. then was built the large modern red brick schoolhouse at _savonlinna_--a fortress of learning to take the place of the old castle, and to teach the people that "the pen is indeed mightier than the sword." one of us twain dreamed again! saw the castle built by _erik tott_, a member of one of the greatest finnish-swedish families, and read the inscription-- _anno domini leth iag erik axelsson ridder i lagnö, bygia thette slåt, gud till loff, christum, helga christna tro till styrkielse, och thå var hustra min elin götstaffsdotter i lagmansöö._ translation-- anno domini let erik, son of axel knight of lagnö, build this castle to the glory of god, to strengthen the holy christian faith in christ: and then was my wife's name elin, daughter of götstaff[d] in lagmansöö. that weary traveller saw the indignation at its erection at _nyslott_, just within the russian limits of the frontier, saw the five splendid towers finished, of which three now remain, and the _bastion dick_ properly rebuilt. and then all grew suddenly dark, and, in a deeper sleep, that dreamer groped along the gloomy subterranean passage, said to run from the clock tower to the town, seemed to hear the rushing water, a hundred and twenty feet deep at this point, tearing like a cataract overhead, peered into those many strange dark chambers, and hearkened, appalled, to the piercing shrieks of those two wretched men bricked up together in yonder small chamber, in darkness till death brought relief. what a life, and what a death! four stone walls round a room about six feet by ten--with an earthen floor and a low ceiling--no window for light, no stove for warmth in that bitterly cold land. half waking from troubled slumber the weary traveller shivered to think of the horror that had been enacted so close to her elaborately carved bedstead and its lumpy mattress. how hot it still was! the day had been almost tropical, but it is a merciful provision of providence that all days, even one beginning at four a.m., must end at last, and as i, the nineteenth century traveller, the "elderly scribe," aroused myself sufficiently to shake off those terrible visions of a cruel past, i realised it was getting on for midnight. i heard our friend going to rest in his chapel-chamber, and, turning over, tried to go to sleep. how quiet everything was! except for the gnawing of the rats or mice under the floor--no unusual sound in an old castle, of course--and so unconsciousness came--i slept--yes, i slept--till---- ah! what was that! was it? yes, it was--some one calling; and yet it could not be. the custodians had both retired to their kitchen to rest i knew--for had i not heard them trudging upstairs to seek their improvised couches long before?--and yet, most certainly, a loud strange call had broken the silence of night. was it, really uttered by a human being, or could it be--no, no, of course not. a spirit? ridiculous! the very idea was preposterous, and, lying down again, i argued how absurd were such fears, how i had been simply dreaming; over-fatigued after a long day's travel--how, in fact, my mind was disorganised, and the best thing to do was to fall asleep at once. at that moment a tremendous peal of thunder broke overhead, while, simultaneously, the whole room was flooded with light. it played over the walls, it danced over the floor, and then a clap more tremendous than the first seemed to shake the very building. yet through the roll of heaven's artillery i heard that hideous weird cry distinctly audible. starting up again in response, i began to think sleeping in a haunted castle was not such fun after all; that there _must be_ something very uncanny about _nyslott_, more especially when a strange door creaked on its hinges, that sort of rasping squeak one associates with the opening of a door generally kept firmly closed--and muffled feet pattered over the stairs. nearer came the sound, nearer, yet nearer. my heart jumped into my mouth, it ceased almost to beat as the strange footsteps stopped on the very threshold of our room. "oh!" i gasped, thinking that in another moment spirit fingers would turn the handle, and a ghostly figure enter the room. what form would it take? would the phantom be man or woman--tall or short--an assassin, murderer, or victim? yes, the steps had ceased at our very door, and the next moment they would be upon us. but after that brief pause the muffled patter passed on, it became more and more indistinct, and again all was still. what a relief! it was perhaps nothing after all--imagination, hallucination probably, but nothing real--nothing any way to fear. stay though! the voice, a voice, another voice unheard before, spoke in murmured accents, and then a deeper bass than that which had previously called shouted again and again in muffled reply. this was too horrible! it must be a ghost; nay, not even a single ghost but two, and what chance had one poor living woman and a sleeping girl against such odds from the spirit land? the whole thing, even at _nyslott_, seemed too terribly impossible; so i pinched myself to make sure i was awake, only to hear the awful footsteps--duplicated--_coming back_! by this time my sister was awake, and lazily asking "what is the matter?" "h-st-st," i answered under my breath. thud, thud--the mysterious footsteps drew nearer and nearer-- they were almost again at our door, when absolutely petrified by fear, and clammy by reason of the awful _nyslott_ stories we had been told, we twain sat up straight feeling creepy and cold all over. the footsteps came on apace, and we held our breath, thinking our time had come; but was it? could it be? yes, yes, thank heaven it was! we recognised the voice of _our own custodian talking softly to his comrade_. it was no ghost after all! only the under _vahtimestari_ who, having spent the evening on shore, shouted as usual to be admitted. it was his strange voice echoing through those empty corridors and vaulted chambers that had waked us from our first sleep. his cries not being heard by reason of thunder roaring and rolling, he had called and called again with increasing energy till admitted. what an unromantic ending to a most weird story, with every surrounding at hand, every element ready except the actual ghost himself! a happy ending. stay, now it is over, i almost wish the ending had been less happy and more romantic. woman is seldom satisfied, and man never! one woman, however, i am not ashamed to say, was never in all her previous life so frightened as during that midnight hour at _nyslott_. happy days followed after this terrifying episode. we explored dark chambers with a candle and matches, we cooked coffee on the stove for breakfast, and boiled eggs in an enormous tea-kettle, aided in our pleasant toil by two smiling much-interested watchmen, and afterwards ate our meal among tangled shrubs in a courtyard shaded from the sun's heat by a linden tree. we idled generally; wrote letters, scribbled up our diaries, chatted or made sketches in the _bastion dick_ with its eight windows, each of which are at the narrow end of a wall measuring fifteen feet thick, thus forming the deep recesses of a large octagonal chamber with long benches stretching down the side of each of the fifteen feet walls. a wondrous and remarkable hall, always cool even on a hot day with its windowless look-outs over that beautiful lake. up the centre of this huge hall was a column of solid masonry coming from the chamber below, and rising some thirty feet to support the arched roof. we enjoyed it all; but, be it owned, the life was very primitive, and to many people would have seemed ghastly. for dinner (which is always between two and four in finland), we were obliged to cross to the _kasino_ or _societetzhuset_ (hotel), our commissariat and _chef de cuisine_ not rising to the requirements of such a meal. we learnt how ugly ordinary small finnish towns are, with their one-storey wooden houses, ill-paved roads, totally devoid of side paths--how very like cheap wooden noah's arks, such as children have; all straight and plain with glaring windows painted round with white paint, no gardens of any kind, while every casement is blocked with a big indiarubber plant. generally they possess a huge stone or brick school-house, large enough to contain all the thousand inhabitants in the district, instead of the town's two hundred children, but then it is built ready for contingencies. all this hideous inartistic modernity contrasted sadly with the massive beauty and vast strength of our castellated home. _nyslott_, as already said, is famous for its baths, which are a great institution, and charmingly arranged--douche baths, steam, mud, swimming, etc., and about forty or fifty little private rooms, some containing sofas--and at least a dozen women to attend to the comfort of visitors. they are regular finnish bathing-women, wearing the ordinary uniform of their calling, viz. a thick blue serge skirt, red flannel outside stays, opening at the lacing in front and showing the white cotton chemise that is _de rigueur_, cut low at the neck and with quite short sleeves, a very pretty simple dress that allows great freedom to the arms when massaging, one of the important items of every finnish bath. we always returned to our castellated home for our evening meal, and, armed with a basket containing sardines, bread, butter, cold tongue, or ham, delicious cakes or fruit for dessert, we thoroughly enjoyed ourselves. our table in the courtyard was gray with age, and notched with the initials of young philistines of former generations. we had no cloth, why should we; our forefathers ate without cloths and were happy nevertheless. we had a large brown earthenware pot, such as is used as a bread pan in england, at the head of the table filled with milk, which we served by dipping a cup into its depths. a mat of birch bark was our bread trencher, a cabbage leaf our butter dish, for although we had plates and knives and forks, cups and tumblers, there were not enough to accommodate the many articles displayed upon our liberal board. the pigeons generally joined us at our meal, and seemed to know when we sallied forth in solemn procession, each with a black tin tray, what coming event was casting its shadow before, for they began to arrive whenever they heard the first rattle of cups and saucers. our feathered friends guessed intuitively that scraps would immediately follow the pleasant music, more delectable than any the castle had hitherto furnished. if our bedroom was quaint, our youthful grandpapa's was quainter. never was there a more strange sleeping-chamber than the old church where grandpapa reposed on a mattress on the floor. it was a long narrow room with windows on both sides, the only place which boasted real windows except our own room, and the wee kitchen in that rambling old _olavin linna_. although this church had been catholic, lutheran, and greek, and then lutheran again, all that remained of decoration were the remnants of an altar, at the far end, above which hung a large picture of the crucifixion, and below a representation of the lord's supper; both badly painted, if one might judge from the scant colour remaining on the canvas. on one side stood a pulpit with a top like an extinguisher, much the worse for wear; formerly it had been painted all over with bright colours, the panels of the saints being surrounded by garish festoons and queer designs. in the opposite corner of the room was a very remarkable representation of our lord, with the five foolish virgins on one side, and the five wise ones on the other. it was a truly wonderful picture, for all the arms were out of drawing and all the heads too big for the bodies, and every one of the faces hideous. but even more wonderful than all the rest was the dado painted on a wooden panelling which ran round the church. the background was pale green, and the persons represented were prophets, apostles, and saints in the most rude form of art. finnish art about a hundred and fifty years ago closely resembled the very earliest examples known of the italian, only it was yet a hundredfold more primitive. but then, we presume, the village artist had never really seen a good picture in his life, and had nothing to go by. on the panels were the following:-- _p. isak_ (p. standing for pylia = saint), dressed in a blue kilt, with black top boots, a red cape, and a black billycock hat! _p. jacob_, who was next to him, wore brown knickerbockers and long stockings, a red and blue plaid, and a red felt hat. _p. samuel_ had a hat like a jewish rabbi and a long black cloak. _judas iskariot_ a most wonderful red head and beard, and carried in his hand a finnish peasant's tobacco pouch. but the most wonderful was _noak_ or noah in blue and white tartan knickerbockers with a short kilt above them, carrying a red cloak and black slouch hat _over his arm_. at the end of the room, opposite the altar, was a sort of wide wooden stair, on which prisoners used to sit during service at the commencement of the nineteenth century. we bathed in that hot weather from the rock on which _nyslott_ is built, and enjoyed the cool water amazingly. to find a safe spot, however, from which to make our plunge proved a difficulty, and one we had to solve for ourselves. leaving the main and only entrance of the castle, and descending some wide steps leading to the water edge, bathing dresses and towels in hand, we found a little ledge of stone-work barely twelve inches broad, just above the level of the lake. literally only a foothold. any nervous person inclined to turn giddy would hardly have dared to venture along such a path at all. but it led to the only spot where we could stand on solid earth outside the castle walls, so completely did the edifice cover the rock on which it was built. a gust of wind at the turn of the tower almost blew us over, it was so sudden and unexpected. after climbing on in this way for a short while we came to a little cove between two towers, with enough land for three or four trees to find soil to grow on, and beneath them a perfect bed of wild strawberries. it was a very small and very primitive bath chamber, but trees afforded shade from the sun's powerful rays, and two massive walls shut us in from curious eyes. near the castle gate the water was smooth, but the current round other parts of the battlements was great, and almost baffled the wonderful swimming powers of grandpapa and his friend, the delightful student who joined us at _nyslott_, fresh from his newly-won honours at the university. they swam round it--but they had a struggle to accomplish their feat. our student was a great acquisition to the party, though many scenes we lived together were not altogether devoid of embarrassment. we spoke english, french, and german, but he knew no language that we knew. for his university work he had learned book-german, and could read it well, but he had never heard it spoken, and his tongue had never framed the words. still, with this solid foundation, we soon taught him, and at the end of the three weeks that he spent with us, we flatter ourselves his german was _excellent_! many a laugh we had over his deliciously amusing struggles, and, in spite of being a finlander, he laughed too. we also had many quaint linguistic adventures with our "hotel keeper." that custodian was a poet--a real live poet. he used to disappear for hours; and we wondered where he was, until one fine day, as we rowed home to our enchanted castle, we saw a man on the top of the watch tower waving his arms and gesticulating with dramatic gestures into space. this was our _vahtimestari_. from his exalted position, with one of the most beautiful panoramas eye could wish lying at his feet--resting on a famous battlement, that had withstood the ravages of love and war--he evolved his magic verse. truly no scene could be more inspiring, no motive more sublime, for even we humble humdrum matter-of-fact englishwomen felt almost inspired to tempt the poet's muse. but happily no--our friends are spared--the passion was but fleeting. one day our _vahtimestari_ met us all smiles. we could not quite understand what he meant, but grandpapa and our student told us some strange news as soon as the _vahtimestari_ had imparted it to them. it seemed that a party of people had rung the bell on the shore for the castle boat to go to fetch them, so, accordingly, our nocturnal host had gone across to earn his penny per head for ferrying them over. a papa, mamma, son, and daughters, with a couple of acquaintances, comprised the party. they calmly owned they had not come to see the castle--they had seen it before. they had come to see the english ladies. was it really true that two englishwomen were staying there as the papers stated? had they actually come from london? what were they like? what did they do? and why on earth did they sleep among the ghosts and hobgoblins? then, in a hushed voice and with subdued breath they asked-- "are they mad?" "no," the man answered, "he didn't think they were, they seemed much like other folk." "could they talk." "not finnish; but they understand a little swedish, and talk french and german with their friends." "did they do anything very remarkable or strange?" "no. they cook their breakfast, and afterwards eat it; write, work, sketch, and bathe; in fact, they are ordinary people and seem quite sane." "could they see the strange ladies?" "he was afraid not, as they were on shore." "might they see where they slept?" "certainly," replied the _vahtimestari_. and on reaching the room they exclaimed-- "why, this is an ordinary room with windows, how very disappointing," whereupon, much distressed and disillusioned, they turned and departed. at this very time we were walking on the promenade in front of the bath-houses, where a nice fat comfortable-looking old gentleman stood before me, and cap in hand asked in english-- "excuse me, do you like finland?" "very much," i replied, smiling at the question; "but why do you ask?" "i am a finn--we all are finns, and we are very proud of our country, about which most of europe knows nothing, or at least next to nothing, and i am desirous to hear what you think of it all?" "i am delighted with it. but again i must ask why you inquire?" "because we all know about _you_ from the newspapers (not one word of which we could read ourselves), and we are very anxious you should like us and our land, and tell the people in england we are not barbarians as they suppose. please excuse my speaking to you, but i am the spokesman of many, who will be delighted to hear you are satisfied, and wish you a pleasant journey. if a stranger may be so bold--i thank you for coming." "finland certainly deserves to be better known," i replied. "you think so? oh, i am glad;" and after a few minutes more conversation he said, "i hope you will enjoy _punkaharju_." "how do you know i am going to _punkaharju_?" "i heard so, and that you are actually living in our castle, and that you are going through the country to _uleåborg_." i almost collapsed; but he was so nice and so smiling i dared not be angry at his somewhat inquisitive interest in my movements. on another occasion it was an elderly general who calmly sat down and addressed me in german, in order to inquire what i was going to write, how i was going to write it, and when it would appear. these are only three instances of several, all showing the keen interest of the people that the land may be known and the finlander a little better understood than he is by half the world to-day, who seem to imagine him to be a cross between a laplander and an esquimo--instead of what he really is, a very cultured gentleman. my sister eased the troubles of life for me by kindly doing the packing; but once, so she says, virtue seized me in a rigid grip--and i packed. it was at _olavin linna_--at our castle. we were leaving next day, and one gladstone had to be filled with things we did not want for a short time, and the other to be packed with everything we required immediately. i worked hard. sorted everything; filled the gladstone with clean linen, guide books, foods, papers, etc., strapped it, and then, feeling the incarnation of industry and pride, threw myself on that precious deck-chair to rest and read. presently my sister danced into the room. i told her of my virtue, received her congratulations and thanks, beamed with delight at my success, and answered her question as to the whereabouts of her bathing cap that "i had never seen it." "strange," she said, "i feel sure i left it on the window-sill to dry last night as usual, and it has gone, and i want a swim." we both looked. we went down into the courtyard and scrambled among the lilac bushes immediately below the window. finally, we decided it had been left on the tree at the bathing ground the night before. so off she went round that dangerous edge to find the cap. it was not there. we called grandpapa--grandpapa called the _vahtimestari_--the _vahtimestari_ called his under man; every one explained to every one else what was missing. at last the custodian remarked-- "oh, now i understand what you mean; that sponge bag which lies beside the bathing dresses to dry; i didn't know what you meant by 'cap to bathe.'" "yes, yes, that is it," replied grandpapa; "where is it?" "i don't know." "but it must be found. this lady dives and swims under water, and her long hair would get wet without it." and so we looked, and looked, and all looked again. "let us go and buy another," remarked my sister in desperation. "impossible," replied our student, who had now joined in the search, "you might get one in _helsingfors_, but nowhere else." we were in despair. before evening the whole town had heard of the english ladies' strange loss, and the bathing cap was as much commented upon as though it had been a dynamite bomb. confession, they say, is good for the soul. then let me own my sin. the next day that bathing cap was found--_i had packed it up_! wherefore my sister on all inconvenient occasions says-- "yes, she packed _once_; she put away everything we wanted, and left out everything we had no use for." how cruelly frank one's relations are! * * * * * alas! my haunted castle is restored, and the revels of the ghosts and the goblins are now disturbed by the shrieks and snorts of the modern locomotive. footnotes: [c] a girl's ride in iceland. [d] götstaff is old finnish for gustavus. chapter xii punkaharju every one we met in finland told us to make a point of seeing _punkaharju_, just as strangers in london might be advised to visit the tower, though in this case the great show was not a historical place, the work of men's hands, but a freak of nature in one of her most charming moods. _punkaharju_ being only a short distance from _nyslott_, we proceeded thither in a small steamer supposed to start at noon. by one of those lucky chances that sometimes occur in life, we happened to arrive at the steamer half an hour before the time she was advertised to sail, and were, to say the least of it, barely on board before a whistle sounded, when away we went. we were amazed at this proceeding, and, taking out our watches, discovered it still wanted _twenty_ minutes to the time printed in the newspapers and on the advertisement at the bath-house. it was only another instance showing that punctuality is absolutely considered of no value in finland, for the steamer actually did start twenty minutes before its appointed hour, and no one then or after made the slightest complaint. imagine our flying scotchman speeding north even one minute before the advertised hour! having been told that _punkaharju_ was very full during the summer holiday season, we had therefore asked our charming student friend, who preceded us by a day, to kindly engage rooms to await our arrival. what was our surprise when we arrived at the little pier, not only to meet him beaming with smiles as he hurried to say he had secured rooms, but to find a lady who had travelled with us some days before from _wiborg_ and spoke english well, warmly welcoming us, the while she exclaimed-- "i found the hotel was so full when i came that i told the landlord rooms would be required to-night, for i did not wish you to be disappointed." she was a stranger, and her thoughtfulness was very kind. the plot thickened, however, a moment afterwards, when the russian general, who had also travelled for a whole day on a steamer with us, arrived in his scarlet-lined uniform, and, saluting profoundly, begged to inform madame he had taken the liberty of bespeaking rooms "as the hotel was very full." this was somewhat alarming, and it actually turned out that three suites of rooms had been engaged for us by three different people, each out of the goodness of his heart trying to avoid the dreadful possibility of our being sent away roofless. no wonder our host, thinking such a number of englishwomen were arriving, had procured the only carriage in the neighbourhood and ordered it and a cart to come down to the pier and await this vast influx of folk. although the hotel was not a hundred yards actually from where we stood, everybody insisted on our getting into the little carriage for the honour of the thing, and my sister and i drove off in triumph by a somewhat circuitous route to the hotel, only to find all our friends and acquaintances there before us, as they had come up the short way by the steps. even more strange was the fact that each one of our kind friends had told a certain judge and his wife of our probable arrival, and promised to introduce the strange english women to them, while, funnily enough, we ourselves bore an introduction from the lady's brother, so, before any of our _compagnons de voyage_ had time to introduce us, we had already made the acquaintance of the judge and his wife through that gentleman's card. they were all exceedingly kind to us, and we thoroughly enjoyed our short stay among them. such friendliness is very marked in finland. _punkaharju_ is certainly a strange freak of nature. imagine a series of the most queerly-shaped islands all joined together by a natural roadway, for, strange to say, there is a ridge of land sometimes absolutely only the width of the road joining these islands in a connective chain. for about five miles these four or five islands are bound together in this very mysterious manner, so mysterious, in fact, that it seems impossible, as one walks along the roadway, to believe it is nature's freak and not man's hand that has made this extraordinary thoroughfare. it is most beautiful in the wider parts, where, there being more land, the traveller comes upon lovely dells, while the most marvellous mosses and ferns lie under the pine trees, and the flowers are beautiful. no wonder _runeberg_ the poet loved to linger here--a veritable enchanted spot. the morning after our arrival we had a delightful expedition in a boat to the end of the islands; but as a sudden storm got up, in the way that storms sometimes do in finland, we experienced great difficulty in landing, and were ultimately carried from the boat to the beach in somewhat undignified fashion. however, we landed somehow, and most of us escaped without even wet feet. just above us was a woodman's house, where our kind judge had ordered coffee to be in readiness, and thither we started, a little cold and somewhat wet from the waves that had entered our bark and sprinkled us. on the way we paused to eat wild strawberries and to look at the ancient russian bakeries buried in the earth. these primitive ovens of stone are of great size, for a whole regiment had been stationed here at the time of the war early in the last century when russia conquered finland. and then we all sat on the balcony of the woodman's cottage and enjoyed our coffee, poured from a dear little copper pot, together with the black bread and excellent butter, which were served with it. on that balcony some six or eight languages were spoken by our finnish friends, such wonderful linguists are they as a nation. at the end of our meal the wind subsided and out came the most brilliant sunshine, changing the whole scene from storm to calm, like a fairy transformation at the pantomime. we walked back to the hotel, and the finlanders proved to be right. as a beautiful bit of quaint nature, _punkaharju_ equals some of the finest passes in scotland, while its formation is really most remarkable. a ridiculous incident happened that day at dinner. grandpapa, like a great many other persons in finland, being a vegetarian, had gone to the rubicund and comfortable landlord that morning and explained that he wanted vegetables and fruit for his dinner. at four o'clock, the time for our mid-day meal, we all seated ourselves at table with excellent appetites, the judge being on my left hand and his wife on my right. we had all fetched our trifles from the _smörgåsbord_, and there ensued a pause before the arrival of the soup. solemnly a servant, bearing a large dish, came up to our table, and in front of our youthful grandpapa deposited her burden. his title naturally gave him precedence of us all--an honour his years scarcely warranted. the dish was covered with a white serviette, and when he lifted the cloth, lo! some two dozen eggs were lying within its folds. "how extraordinary," he said; "i told the landlord i was a vegetarian, and should like some suitable food; surely he does not think i am going to eat this tremendous supply of eggs." we laughed. "where is our dinner?" we asked, a question which interested us much more than his too liberal supply. "oh! it will come in a moment," he replied cheerfully. "but did you order it?" we ventured to inquire. "no, i cannot say i did. there is a _table d'hôte_." unmercifully we chaffed him. fancy his daring to order his own dinner, and never inquiring whether we were to have anything to eat or not; he, who had catered for our wants in the mysteries of that castle home, so basely to desert us now. he really looked quite distressed. "i'm extremely sorry," he said, "but i thought, being in a hotel, you were sure to have everything you wanted. of course there is a _table d'hôte_ meal." at this juncture the servant returned, bearing another large dish. _our_ dinner, of course, we hoped. not a bit of it. a large white china basin, full of slices of cucumber, cut, about a quarter of an inch thick, as cucumber is generally served in finnish houses, again solemnly paused in front of grandpapa. he looked a little uneasy as he inquired for _our dinner_. "this is for the gentleman," she solemnly remarked; and so dish number two, containing at least three entire cucumbers for the vegetarian's dinner, was left before him. another pause, and still our soup did not come; but the girl returned, this time bearing a glass dish on a long spiral stand filled with red stewed fruit, which, with all solemnity, she deposited in front of grandpapa. his countenance fell. twenty-four eggs, three cucumbers, and about three quarts of stewed fruit, besides an enormous jug of milk and an entire loaf of bread, surrounded his plate, while we hungry mortals were waiting for even crumbs. fact was, the good housewife, unaccustomed to vegetarians, could not rightly gauge their appetites, and as the gentleman had ordered his own dinner she thought, and rightly, he was somebody very great, and accordingly gave him the best of what she had, and that in large quantities. after dinner, which, let us own, was excellent, we had to leave our kind friends and drive back in the soft light of the night to _nyslott_, for which purpose we had ordered two _kärra_ (swedish for cart), _karryts_ (finnish name), a proceeding which filled the judge and his wife with horror. "it is impossible," they said, "that you can drive such a distance in one of our ordinary finnish _kärra_. you do not know what you are undertaking. you will be shaken to death. do wait and return to-morrow by the steamer." we laughed at their fears, for had we not made up our minds to travel a couple of hundred miles through finland at a not much later date by means of these very _kärra_? certainly, however, when we reached the door our hearts failed us a little. the most primitive of market carts in england could not approach the discomfort of this strange finnish conveyance. there were two wheels, undoubtedly, placed across which a sort of rough-and-ready box formed the cart; on this a seat without a back was "reserved" for us. the body of the _kärra_ was strewn with hay, and behind us and below us, and before us our luggage was stacked, a small boy of twelve sitting on our feet with his legs dangling out at the side while he drove the little vehicle. grandpapa and i got into one, our student friend and my sister into the other, and away we went amid the kindly farewells of all the occupants of the hostelry, who seemed to think we were little short of mad to undertake a long tiring journey in native carts, and to elect to sleep at our haunted castle on an island, instead of in a proper hotel. we survived our drive--nay more, we enjoyed it thoroughly, although so shaken we feared to lose every tooth in our heads. it was a lovely evening, and we munched wild strawberries by the way, which we bought for twopence in a birch-bark basket from a shoeless little urchin on the road. we had no spoon of course; but we had been long enough in finland to know the correct way to eat wild strawberries was with a pin. the pin reminds us of pricks, and pricks somehow remind of soap, and soap reminds us of a little incident which may here be mentioned. an old traveller never leaves home without a supply of soap; so, naturally, being _very_ old travellers, we started with many cakes among our treasured possessions. but in the interior of _suomi_, quite suddenly, one of our travelling companions confided to us the fact that he had finished his soap, and could not get another piece. my sister's heart melted, and she gave away our last bit but one, our soap having likewise taken unto itself wings. he was overjoyed, for english soap is a much-appreciated luxury in all foreign lands. some days went by and the solitary piece we had preserved grew beautifully less and less; but we hoped to get some more at each little village we came to. we did not like to confide our want to our friend, lest he should feel that he had deprived us of a luxury--we might say a necessity. every morning my sister grumbled that our soap was getting smaller and smaller, which indeed it was, while the chance of replacing it grew more and more remote. her grief was so real, her distress so great, that i could not help laughing at her discomfiture, and, whenever possible, informed her that i was about to wash my hands for the sake of enjoying the last lather of our rapidly dwindling treasure. at last she became desperate. "i don't care what it costs," she said; "i don't care how long it takes, but i am going out to get a piece of soap, if i die for it." so out she went, and verily she was gone for hours. i began to think she had either "died for it," or got into difficulties with the language, or been locked up in a finnish prison! i was sitting writing my notes, when suddenly the door was thrown open, and my sister, her face aflame with heat and excitement, appeared with a large bright orange parcel under her arm. "i've got it, i've got it," she exclaimed. "got what--the measles or scarlet fever?" "soap," she replied with a tragic air, waving the bright orange bag over her head. "you don't mean to say that enormous parcel contains soap?" "i do," she replied. "i never intend to be without soap again, and so i bought all i could get. at least," with a merry twinkle and in an undertone, she added, "i brought away as little as i could, after explaining to the man for half an hour i did not want the enormous quantity he wished to press upon me." dear readers, it was not beautiful pink scented soap, it was not made in paris or london; heaven only knows the place of its birth; it gave forth no delicious perfume; it was neither green, nor yellow, nor pink, to look upon. it was a hideous brown brick made in lapland, i should think, and so hard it had probably been frozen at the north pole itself. but that was not all; when we began to wash, this wondrous soap which had cost so much trouble to procure--such hours in its pursuit--was evidently some preparation for scrubbing floors and rough household utensils, for there was a sandy grit about it which made us clean, certainly, but only at the expense of parting with our skin. my poor sister! her comedy ended in tragedy. chapter xiii the life of a tree what different things are prized in different lands! when walking round a beautiful park on an island in _suomi_, the whole of which and a lovely mansion belonged to our host, he pointed with great pride to three oak trees, and said-- "look at our oaks, are they not wonderful?" we almost smiled. they were oaks, certainly, perhaps as big in circumference as a soup plate, which to an english mind was nothing; but the oak, called in finnish _jumalan puu_, or god's tree, is a great rarity in _suomi_, and much prized, whereas the splendid silver birches and glorious pines, which call forth such praise and admiration from strangers, count for nothing, in spite of the magnificent luxuriance of their growth. the pine is one of the most majestic of all trees. it is so superbly stately--so unbending to the breeze. it raises its royal head aloft--soaring heavenwards, heedless of all around; while the silvery floating clouds gently kiss its lofty boughs, as they fleet rapidly hither and thither in their endless chase round this world. deep and dark are the leaves, strong and unresisting; but even they have their tender points, and the young shoots are deliciously green and sweet scented. look at its solid stem--so straight that every maiden passing by sighs as she attempts to imitate its superb carriage, and those very stems are coloured by a wondrous pinky hue oft-times; so pink, in fact, we pause to wonder if it be painted by nature's brush, or is merely a whim of sunset playing upon the sturdy bark. look beneath the pine; its dark and solid grandeur protects and fosters the tenderest of green carpets. see the moss of palest green, its long fronds appearing like ferns, or note those real ferns and coarser bracken fighting the brambles for supremacy or trying to flout that little wild rose daring to assert its individuality. pines and silver birches flourish on all sides. everything or anything can apparently be made of birch bark in finland--shoes, baskets, huge or small, salt bottles, flower vases--even an entire suit of clothing is hanging up in _helsingfors_ museum, manufactured from the bark of the silver birch. the bark thus used, however, is often cut from the growing tree, but this requires to be carefully done so as not to destroy the sap. as one drives through the forests, one notices that many of the trees have dark-brown rings a foot or more wide round their trunks, showing where the bark has been stripped away. the ribband for plaiting is made, as a rule, about an inch wide, although narrower necessarily for fine work, and then it is plaited in and out, each article being made double, so that the shiny silvery surface may show on either side. even baby children manipulate the birch bark, and one may pass a cluster of such small fry by the roadside, shoeless and stockingless, all busily plaiting baskets with their nimble little fingers. we often marvelled at their dexterity. what were those packets of brown paper securely fixed to the top of long poles all over that field, we wondered? "why, sheets of birch bark," answered our friend, "put out to dry in the sun for the peasants to plait baskets and boxes, shoes and satchels, such as you have just seen; they peeled those trees before cutting them down." on another of our drives we noticed bunches of dried leaves tied at the top of some of the wooden poles which support the strangely tumbledown looking wooden fences which are found everywhere in finland, and serve not only as boundaries to fields but also to keep up the snow. "what are those dead leaves?" we asked the lad who drove our _kärra_. "they are there to dry in the sun, for the sheep to eat in the winter," was his reply, with which we ought to have rested satisfied; but thinking that was not quite correct, as they were in patches round some fields and not in others, we asked the boy of the second springless vehicle the same question. "those," he said, "are put up to dry in the sun round the rye fields, and in the autumn, when the first frost comes and might destroy the whole crop in a single night, they are lighted, and the warmth and the wind from them protect the crops till they can be hastily gathered the next day." this sounded much more probable, and subsequently proved perfectly correct. these sudden autumn frosts are the farmer's terror, for his crops being left out one day too long may mean ruin, and that he will have to mix birch bark or iceland moss with his winter's bread to eke it out, poor soul! the export of timber from finland is really its chief trade. +-----+------------------+--------------+----------------------+ | | export of wood, | wood pulp. | paper, chiefly made | | | cubic metres | kilograms. | from wood pulp. | | | (about cubic | | kilograms. | | | feet). | | | +-----+------------------+--------------+----------------------+ | | , | , , | , , | | | , , | , , | , , | | | , , | , , | , , | | | , , | , , | .. | | | , , | , , | .. | +-----+------------------+--------------+----------------------+ in , , , cubic metres of wood were exported, and , , kilograms of pulp and paper. from this table it will be seen that a large quantity of pulp is exported, likewise a great deal of paper, and chiefly to our own country. england exports to finland somewhat, but very little, of her own produce, unfortunately; tea, coffee, sugar, and such foreign wares being transhipped from england and germany--principally from the latter to finland. the foreign inland trade of _suomi_ is chiefly in the hands of the germans. "made in germany" is as often found on articles of commerce, as it is in england. well done, germany! we gained some idea of the magnitude of the finnish wood trade when passing _kotka_, a town in the gulf of finland, lying between _helsingfors_ and _wiborg_. immense stacks of sawn wood were piled up at _kotka_, and in the bay lay at least a dozen large ships and steamers, with barges lying on either side filling them with freight as quickly as possible for export to other lands. the trees of finland _are_ finland. they are the gold mines of the country, the props of the people, the products of the earth; the money bags that feed most of its two million and a half of inhabitants. the life of a finnish tree is worth retailing from the day of its birth until it forms the floor or walls of a prince's palace or a peasant's hut. to say that finland is one huge forest is not true, for the lakes--of which there are five or six thousand--play an important part, and cover about one-sixth of the country, but these lakes, rivers, and waterways all take their share in the wood trade. some of the lakes are really inland seas, and very rough seas too. tradition says they are bottomless--anyway, many of them are of enormous depth. tradition might well say the forests are boundless, for what is not water in finland is one vast and wonderful expanse of wood. now let us look at the life of a tree. like topsy "it growed;" it was not planted by man. those vast pine forests, extending for miles and miles, actual mines of wealth, are a mere veneer to granite rocks. that is the wonderful part of it all, granite is the basis, granite distinctly showing the progress of glaciers of a former period. such is the foundation, and above that a foot or two of soil, sometimes less, for the rocks themselves often appear through the slight covering; but yet out of this scant earth and stone the trees are multiplied. standing on the top of the tower of the old castle--alas! so hideously restored--at _wiborg_, one can see for miles and miles nothing but lakes and trees, and as we lingered and wondered at the flatness of the land our attention was arrested by patches of smoke. "forest fires, one of the curses of the land," we learned. "in hot weather there are often awful fires; look, there are five to be seen from this tower at one moment, all doing much damage and causing great anxiety, because the resin in the pines makes them burn furiously." "how do they put them out?" we asked. "every one is summoned from far and near; indeed, the people come themselves when they see smoke, and all hands set to work felling trees towards the fire in order to make an open space round the flaming woods, or beating with long poles the dry burning mass which spreads the fire. it is no light labour; sometimes miles of trenching have to be dug as the only means whereby a fire can be extinguished; all are willing to help, for, directly or indirectly, all are connected with the wood trade." here and there where we travelled, the forests were on fire--fires luckily not caused by those chance conflagrations, which do so much harm in finland, but duly organised to clear a certain district. matters are arranged in this wise: when a man wants to plough more land, he selects a nice stretch of wood, saws down all the big trees, which he sledges away, the next set (in point of size) he also hews down, but leaves where they fall, with all their boughs and leaves on, till the sun dries them. then he makes a fire in their midst, the dried leaves soon catch, and in a few hours the whole acreage is bare except for the tree trunks, which are only charred and serve later for firewood. all the farm hands, often augmented by neighbours, assist at these fires, for although a man may wish to clear two or three acres, if the flames were not watched, they would soon lay twenty or thirty bare, and perhaps destroy an entire forest. the ashes lie on the ground and become manure, so that when, during the following summer, he begins to plough, the sandy soil is fairly well-fed, and ultimately mildly prolific. he is very ingenious this peasant, and takes the greatest care not to let the flames spread beyond his appointed boundary, beating them with huge sticks, as required, and keeping the flames well in hand. the disastrous forest fires, caused by accidental circumstances, spoil the finest timber, and can only be stayed in their wild career, as we remarked elsewhere, by digging trenches, over which the roaring flames cannot pass. such fires are one of the curses of finland, and do almost as much harm as a flight of locusts in morocco. "how old are those trees we see, twenty or thirty years?" our friend the _kommerserådet_ smiled. "far, far more," he replied; "speaking roughly, every tree eight inches in diameter twenty feet from the ground is eighty years old, nine inches ninety years, ten inches a hundred years old, and so on." we were amazed to think that these vast forests should be so old, for if it took so long for a tree to grow, and so many millions were felled every year, it seemed to us that the land would soon be barren. "not at all," our friend replied; "a forest is never cleared. only trees which have reached a proper girth are felled. in every forest but a certain number of trees are cut each year, so that fresh ones are in a continuous stream taking their places." rich merchants possess their own forests, their own saw-mills, their own store houses, and even their own ships; but the bulk of exporters pay for cut timber. in hiring a forest the tenant takes it on lease for so many years with the right to fell all trees so soon as they reach certain dimensions. the doomed trees are marked, and now we must follow their after course. in the autumn and winter they are felled and left for the first fall of snow, when they are dragged, sometimes two or three logs one behind the other fixed together with iron chains, to the nearest open road for further conveyance by sledge when the snow permits. no single horse could move such a weight in summer, but by the aid of sledges and snow all is changed, and away gallop the little steeds down the mountain side, pushed forward at times by the weight behind. by this means the trees are conveyed to the nearest waterway. then the logs are stamped with the owner's registered mark and rolled upon the ice of lake or river, to await the natural transport of spring. once the ice thaws the forests begin to move, for as "birnam wood marched to dunsinane," the finnish forests float to other lands. imagine the helter-skelter of those thousands of trees over the roaring, rushing waterfalls, or along the rapidly flowing cataracts and flooded rivers. to prevent these wooden horses getting caught-up on the banks along their watery course, men with long poles "personally conduct" huge batches to the coast, or, where they are likely to get fixed, a sort of wooden fencing is built in the river to direct their course. on, on they voyage, those soldiers of the forest, for hundreds of miles to the coast, till, finally arriving at such an enormous wood export town as _kotka_, they meet their doom. wherever the chain of waterways is composed of large lakes, the logs are conveyed to the coast by means of enormous rafts. it is really most ingenious; head and tail into a ring half-a-mile or more in circumference float the pine trees, coupled together by iron clamps. inside these the newly-cut logs, which look like a rope of sausages, are thrust end on end, until they make a perfectly solid floor floating on the surface of the water. now, as a raft of this kind contains many thousand logs, which means a considerable amount of money value, it is conveyed to the coast with the greatest care. at one end a small house is built on the raft itself, on which live the two or three men who have to escort this floating island across the lakes, attend to the logs that get out of place, or secure the fastenings of the outside wood which binds the whole together. naturally it takes some weeks for such a vast island to reach the coast, and as it is sometimes necessary for various reasons to stop on the journey, a horse goes on the raft so as to let down or pull up the anchor when necessary. it is truly wonderful to think that on a floating mass of tree trunks, merely bound together by a primitive barrier or outside ring, men should live for weeks, and a horse should have its stabling. yet such is the case, and many times during our three months' summer sojourn in finland we passed these floating islands wending their way to the coast. of course, it is understood rafts can only travel over the vast lakes, and that on rivers the wood must go separately in the manner before described. but in such a river as the _uleå_, where the salmon fishing is of as great importance, if not greater than wood, the latter are only allowed to pass down until the day when salmon fishing commences. on the completion of the floating season the stock logs at _kotka_ often amount to a million pieces. that alone gives some idea of this wonderful industry. about a mile above _kotka_ the logs are received by the floating inspector and his trained sorters, who separate and distribute, according to the marks thereon, the logs to their respective owners. large floating houses await their arrival, and as the back part of these sheds are divided by half a dozen or so openings leading into the water pens, the men at work quickly turn the timber over, see the owners' names, and by means of a pole steer it into the space belonging to that owner, so that in time each water pen becomes filled with the trees belonging to its proprietor. all this time the steam saw-mills are waiting for their prey, and, like the pigs at chicago who come out smoked and cooked hams, according to tradition, the trees that go in have half a dozen saws run into them at once, and out come boards and planks of various thicknesses and widths. the middle bit--the plum of the cake--is the worst in this instance, for it contains the heart, which is bad wood for working as it splits and twists on drying; the rest is converted into deals, battens, and boards. the outside slab pieces are made into staves for barrels, while the general odds and ends that remain behind are used as fuel for engines, steamboats, or private house consumption in finland, where coal being practically unknown, wood takes its place. the sawn wood is stacked up for miles and miles along the waterside to season ready for export, and, as a rule, the finnish owners sell their timber with the clause that it should be ready to be shipped at "first open water," when away go the pines, cargo after cargo, the best being sent to england, and other qualities to france, germany, etc. thus from finland comes much of the wood that makes our floors, our window frames, our railings, and our doors, and lights our daily fires--it enters the peasant hut, and it finds a place in the royal palace. another big trade is birch--a class of wood cut up into reels and bobbins for england; and yet another is aspen, which wood is supplied to sweden in large quantities to make matches. not only are matches pure and simple made enormously in sweden; but when leaving gothenburg on our homeward journey we saw hundreds of large cases being put on board our steamer. although very big, one man carried a case with ease, much to our surprise, for anything so enormous in the way of cargo was generally hoisted on board with a crane. what a revelation! these cases contained match boxes, which are sent by thousands every week to england. there is an enormous export of wood spirit made from sawdust; yet even then, until lately, it was difficult to get rid of the superfluous sawdust, a great deal of which was burned away in large furnaces. sawdust now plays an important rôle in the trade of finland, and silk factories have been started, for pulp; for our french friends have found that beautiful fabrics can be made from wood, which takes dye almost better than silk woven by a painstaking little worm, only costs a fraction of the money, and sells almost equally well. so that wood for building purposes, for matches or fuel, pulp for paper, sawdust for spirit and silk, are the outcome of the life of a finnish tree. people can be clothed in wood, get drunk on wood, read print on wood, and get warmed and their food cooked by wood. chapter xiv through savolax in carts we were in despair! by the kindness of the governor of the district everything had been arranged for a drive of a couple hundred miles through some of the prettiest parts of the country from _kuopio_ to _iisalmi_. we were to have a carriage with a hood (a rare honour) and two horses, to dawdle as we liked by the way, and just order our vehicle when and as we wanted it, so that we might really peep into the homes of the people, as well as avail ourselves of the baron's many kind introductions. but late on the afternoon before that named for leaving, our cicerone grandpapa found it was imperative for him to remain a couple of days longer in _kuopio_ to receive his sisters who were to join our party, therefore we found ourselves stranded so far as his escort was concerned. "how were we two englishwomen to travel alone through the very centre of finland, where no one spoke a word except his own language?" asked the governor. "perfectly," we replied; "we can travel anywhere, so far as that goes, by signs and with a map; but, of course, we shall _learn_ nothing more than what we can see with our eyes, for we shall not know how to ask for information, and therefore half the pleasure and interest of the journey will be lost." [illustration: burning the forests. (after eero järnefelt.)] "were i not compelled to go on an official journey to-morrow," replied the fine, tall, and charming governor, "i should come myself--as it is, will you accept the escort of my son?" "willingly, thankfully," we replied. baron george spoke french, german, and swedish, and was a good finnish scholar besides. _he_ was to have gone on a bicycle tour that very afternoon, but kindly altered all his plans to pass a couple of days as our guide, cicerone, and friend, and a third on his return journey alone. accordingly we started at nine a.m. on the next morning, and drove over sixty miles through finland during the two following days, by a route soon to be followed by railway engines, for it had already been surveyed for that purpose, and little posts here and there denoted the projected route. seen off by the governor's family, who had shown us the greatest hospitality and kindness during our stay in _kuopio_, we were peeped at by half the town as we started; for english people, and a hooded vehicle driving through _savolax_ was no mean event, especially when these same visitors had been entertained by the governor of the district. after a spin of five kilometres, or about two and a half english miles, we reached the _lossi_, and our adventures began. a mile and a half of water had to be crossed; naturally there was no bridge, nor was there any friendly ice on those hot days, therefore a _lossi_ or boat, rather like a river barge, conveys passengers--a _rara avis_--horses, and carriage right over that wide expanse of lake. our hearts sank when we saw the boat. it was simply a shell, without seats or even a platform for the carriage. the old boat was big, but our equipage appeared even bigger, and we looked on in dismay, wondering how on earth we were ever to get across unless we took half a dozen journeys, in bits, to and fro. afterwards our dismay turned to admiration at the skill with which the whole thing was accomplished. first, our pair of mustard-coloured ponies, with long tails, big bodies and small legs--who, by the bye, went splendidly for two long days--were unharnessed, their primitive trappings, much mended with string and rope, being thrown into our carriage; then two planks of wood were laid from the empty boat to the top step of the landing-stage on which we stood, men, seizing each of the four wheels, slowly trundled the heavy carriage along those planks to the barge's side. so far so good; but the boat was in the water, and the carriage some feet higher up on the pier; more planks being speedily arranged, however, it was most cleverly slipped down the pier's side on them, and after others had been placed the right distance apart for the wheels to stand on, into the boat itself. so there our victoria--if we may call our vehicle by so grand a name--stood right across the boat, its pole and bar being reflected in the lake, over which they hung on the one side, the luggage and hood of the vehicle projecting over the water on the other. as though accustomed to such strange feats, those "mustard pots" walked down the steps of the primitive pier, lifted their feet over the boat's side most dexterously--as a lady in fine shoes might daintily cross some muddy road--and stood head and tail next the carriage. a finnish pony is a marvel. he has no chest, is so narrow, one almost wonders, when standing before his head, where his body can really be. he has fine legs with good hoofs and fetlocks; he looks ill-groomed and ill-cared for, his tail is long and bushy, and his mane unkempt. yet he goes up hill or down dale at a good pace (averaging six miles an hour), and he will do thirty miles easily in a day and not turn a hair. they are wonderful little animals these mustard-coloured steeds of finland, and as agile and sure-footed as a cat, although not so famous as the fast trotters of _suomi_. then we three got in and sat down, in what little space remained, finding room on planks placed between the wheels. we certainly made a boat full, and a queer cargo we were. two women "ferrymen" found room to row in front, the coachman attended to his horses, one of which was inclined to be restive, while a man, whose flaxen hair was so light it looked positively white against his red burnt neck, stood rowing behind us; and thus in three-quarters of an hour we reached the other side, in as wonderful a transport as the trains we had seen put on steamers in denmark, sicily, or the states, but much more exciting and primitive. gaily and cheerfully, meantime, we discussed the prospects of our visit to lapland; for the northern part of finland is the country of reindeer and laps, and thither we had made up our minds to go as a fitting finish to our summer jaunt. from _uleåborg_ we were to take the steamer to _tornea_, and there to commence a drive which promised to be most interesting, if a little cold and perhaps not quite so pretty as our long journey through _savolax_ in _kärra_ or carts. we drove on through lovely scenery till twelve o'clock, when we arrived at a post-house for luncheon. what a scene met our eyes! an enormous kitchen, a wooden-floored, ceilinged and walled room about thirty feet square, boasting five windows--large and airy, i was about to say, but it just missed being airy because no fresh breeze was ever allowed to enter except by the door. at one end was the usual enormous fireplace, with its large chimney and small cooking stove, into which wood had continually to be piled, coal being as unknown to the inland finn as the sea-serpent itself. at the other end of the room, opposite the fireplace, was a large wooden table with benches arranged along two sides, at which the labourers were feeding, for the one o'clock bell hanging above the roof had just been rung by the farmer, and they had all come in for their mid-day meal. it was really a wonderful scene; five men wearing coloured shirts, and four women, with white handkerchiefs over their heads, were sitting round the table, and between each couple was a small wooden, long-handled pail, from which the pair, each duly provided with a wooden spoon, were helping themselves. finnish peasants--and until lately even finnish town servants--all feed from one pot and drink from one bowl in truly eastern fashion. the small wooden receptacle, which really served as a basin, contained _piimää_ or skimmed milk that had gone sour, a composition somewhat allied to _skyr_, on which peasants live in iceland, only that _skyr_ is sheep's milk often months old, and _piimää_ is cow's milk fairly fresh. this _piimää_ with sour black bread and salted but uncooked small fish (_suolo-kala_) is the peasant's fare, yesterday, to-day, and to-morrow, almost always the same! these people never taste meat, unless it be for a treat salted, while fresh vegetables are unknown, cabbage even being a luxury. each labourer pulled his _puukko_ (knife) from its sheath at his waist--alas, too frequently pulled in anger--and cutting hunks of brown bread, dragged a fish like a sardine (only it was dry and salt) from another wooden tub, and cutting off bits ate them together, after the fashion of a sandwich, helping himself every now and then with a wooden spoon to a lump of the sour milk, or, when his companion was not doing the same, raising the pail--the wooden walls of which were half an inch thick--to his lips and drinking the more watery part of his harmless liquor. _haili_ also haunted us in every peasant home. it is another species of small fish which the peasants eat raw, a little salt being its only preparation. they seem to buy or catch _haili_ by the ton, and then keep them for months in the cellar. we were always seeing them eat these _haili_, which looked something like sprats, and tasted ineffably nasty. on high days and holidays they partake of them accompanied with baked potatoes; but potatoes are somewhat rare, and therefore the fish on black bread alone constitutes the usual meal. sometimes better-class folk eat _haili_, but then they have them grilled on charcoal; these are rich people, for coal is as great a luxury to them even as potatoes to the poor. they seemed very happy, those men and women who had been up and hard at work in the fields since three or four in the morning, and would not have finished their day's labour till between eight and nine p.m., for the summer is short, and while it lasts the peasant gets little or no sleep, his entire livelihood depending upon almost incessant work during the light warm days. i believe many people only sleep for a couple of hours during the summer light, and make up for it in the provinces in winter when it is dark. it was the th of july; the hay was cut everywhere, and thrown up on the wooden palings erected for that purpose, or the old pine trees stuck here and there, to dry before being piled up on little sledges that were to convey it to the nearest wooden shanty, to be stacked for winter use. sledges convey the hay crop in the summer along the roadways, where wheels would be dragged from their axles by the stones and rocks. a year or two ago, when hay was very scarce in england, quantities were sent over from finland, and excellent it was, full of clover and sweet flowers, for although only grown in patches--sometimes even scraps by the roadside--the quality of the crop repays the enormous patience and labour necessary to produce it. finland's wild flowers are renowned, and the hay is full of sweet-scented blossoms. the peasant farmer at whose _majatalo_ we halted was a rich man, and had let out some of his farms to people in a smaller way, who in return had to give him fourteen days' labour in the year whenever he demanded them, also many bags of rye--in regular old feudal style--for money did not pass between them. just as well, perhaps, considering that finnish money a couple of hundred years ago weighed several pounds--indeed its unwieldiness may have been the origin of this exchange of labour for land. we actually saw an old coin over two feet long and one foot wide in the _sordavala_ museum. it is made of copper about one-eighth of an inch thick, with uneven edges as though it had been rolled out like a piece of pastry, and bears the name kristina - , with one coin stamped in the middle about the size of a florin, and one at each of the corners. how delightfully easy travelling must have been in those days with a hundred such useful little coins in one's possession. paper money now takes their place. there were many more coins half that size, the earliest being a carl xi. all through the year the peasant farmer recently referred to employed six hands, and he told us that the men earned a hundred and twenty marks a year (£ ), and a woman fifty or sixty (£ ), with clothes, board, and lodging. it did not seem to be very grand pay; but then the labourers had no expenses, and were, judging from their appearance, well cared for. later, when wandering round the homestead, we found a shed full of sledges, filled with hay and covered by coarse woven sheets, made by the family (for every decent house spins and weaves for itself), and in these the hired labourers slept. it was all very primitive, but wondrously clean. in truly finnish fashion the family was varied. first we saw an aged mother, a delightful old soul, whose husband was dead and whose eldest son therefore worked the farm. he had a wife and five children, the latter being all much of an age. he also had a sister with her invalid husband, and his younger brother and one child--so that there were several relationships under the same roof, let us hope proving "union is strength," although we hardly think the english temperament would care for such family gatherings. in the kitchen-dining-room was a baby in a cradle, and another sort of crib was hanging from the ceiling by cords, the infant lying in a kind of linen pocket on a pillow. we were much amazed to see a patent process by which the infant in the cradle was being fed. it was a wooden bed, in shape like an old german one, and at one side of it projected an arm of wood curved round in such a way that it came up from the side of the cradle and bent almost over the child's face. great was our amazement to find that a cow horn was fixed into this wooden arm, so that the thin part of the horn reached the baby's mouth, while the thick part stood up three or four inches above the hole in the wood in which it was resting. was it a toy, we marvelled, because, if so, it seemed remarkably dangerous to have anything so hard in such near proximity to a baby's face, but great was our surprise on closer examination to find it was a feeding-bottle. the horn was hollow, and on the thin end was a primitive teat of linen, through which the baby was drawing the milk poured in at the top of this novel feeding-bottle. in a corner of the same room was a wonderful frame on rollers to teach a child to walk. there was a small round hole through which the infant was pulled, so that the polished ring supported it under the armpits, from that rim four wooden pillars slanted outwards, being bound together at the bottom by other pieces of wood securely fixed to four rolling castors. in this the child could move; and the little brat rolled about from side to side of the uneven flooring, securely held up in its wooden cage. a small child of five was peeling potatoes, specially dug up in our honour, beside a wooden bucket, while a cat played with a kitten, and a servant girl--for well-to-do farmers have servants--made black bread in a huge tub, the dough being so heavy and solid that she could not turn it over at all, and only managed to knead it by doubling her fists and regularly plunging them to the bottom with all her strength. her sunburnt arms disappeared far above her elbow, and judging by the way the meal stuck to her she found bread-making very hard work. finlanders only bake every few weeks, so the bread is often made with a hole and hung up in rows from the ceiling, or, if not, is placed on the kitchen rafters till wanted. this bread is invariably sour--the natives like it so--and to get it rightly flavoured they always leave a little in the tub, that it may taste the next batch, as sour cream turns the new cream for butter. she was not a bad-looking girl; dame nature had been kinder to her than to most of her sex in finland. somehow that scene did not look real--it had a kind of theatrical effect. the surroundings were too like a museum; the entry of the labourers after the chiming of the bell closely resembled a stage effect--the old grandmother, the children, the bright cotton shirts and skirts, the wondrous fireplace, the spinning-wheel and weaving-frame--yes, it all seemed too picturesque, too full of colour, and too well grouped to be an event in our commonplace every-day life. yet this was merely a peep at a finnish home, in which just such a scene is enacted every day--a home but little off the beaten tracks, and only a short distance from steamboats and trains. the way to understand anything of a land or its people is to leave the tourist route and peep into its homes for one's self. in finland there are always post-stations about every eight or twelve miles, according to requirements or capabilities of the peasantry, where horses and beds can be procured. they are called _majatalo_ in finnish, or _gästgivferi_ in swedish. well-to-do farmers are chosen for the post, because they can afford better accommodation to strangers, and generally there are one or two who apply for the honour, more than for the hundred (or two hundred marks in some instances) subsidy they get for keeping up the _majatalo_. the governor of the province then has to choose the most suitable applicant, settles the charge for food and beds, according to the class of accommodation, and writes them out officially (in three languages) on cards, to be hung up in the rooms, provides the farmer with a _päiväkirja_, or daybook, in which it says: "two horses must always be ready, and two carts, or if an extra turnout be required, double fare may be charged." fourteen penni the kilometre (or about twopence halfpenny a mile) is the ordinary charge for a horse and trap, a room and a bed are sixty penni, an ordinary meal sixty, coffee ten, and so on; so that the prices are not ruinous. indeed, travelling in the interior of finland is altogether moderate, when done as the finns do it by posting, but a private carriage is an enormous expense, and, on the whole, it is just as dear to travel in _suomi_ as in normandy, brittany, or the tyrol. of course it is not so expensive as london, paris, or vienna. how could it be, where there are none of the luxuries of these vast cities? every one has to sign the _päiväkirja_, stating from whence he came, whither he goes, and how many horses he had. complaints are also entered, and the book has to go periodically to the governor for inspection. so the whole posting arrangement is well looked after. we fared very well at our first _majatalo_, but of course we had to wait over an hour before we got anything to eat. one always must in finland, and, although a trial to the temper at first, it is a good lesson in restraint, and by degrees we grew accustomed to it. one can get accustomed to anything--man is as adaptable as the trees. we had black bread--nothing else can be got in peasant homes--and any one who cannot accept its sourness, and one might add hardness, must provide himself with white bread from the towns. we got excellent butter of course--the smallest home has good butter and milk in finland, where the little native cows can be bought for sixty or a hundred marks. they live on what they can find in the summer, and dried birch leaves, moss, or an occasional "delikatess" of hay in the winter. we had also deliciously cold fresh milk, that and coffee being the only drinks procurable, as a rule, and a small fish with a pink skin like a mullet, fresh out of the water, was served nicely fried in butter, the farmer having sent a man to catch it on our arrival. there was cold bacon, too poisonous in appearance to touch, and hot eggs, but no egg-cups, of course. we bumped the round heavy end of the eggs, and stood them up on our plates, native fashion, and felt we had learnt a trick that might be useful when egg-cups fell short in england. in fact, before we left our peasant homes, we had begun to look upon an egg-cup as a totally unnecessary luxury, and to find ourselves so capable of managing without one, that the egg no longer ran out at the wrong end, as it did at first in our inexperienced hands, but behaved as every well-behaved egg ought to do--that is to say, sit up on its end and appear as if it liked it. one terrible-looking dish adorned our table on this and many occasions. it was pike--caught, cleaned, opened, salted, and kept till wanted; a piece, being laid flat on a plate to be served, is cut in thin slices and spread on bread and butter by those who care to eat the luxury. at the bone it was red, and gradually tapered away to a white gelatinous-looking stuff. we never dared venture upon this choice raw dish. it had a particularly distasteful appearance. as there was no _filbunke_, made of sour unskimmed milk, which we had learnt to enjoy, we had to content ourselves with _piimää_, the skimmed milk curdled; but as we were visitors, and not peasants, tumblers of fresh cream had been poured over it, and with sugar it tasted really excellent. it was a primitive dinner, but with fresh fish and eggs, milk and cream, no one need starve, and we only paid fivepence each for our mid-day meal, such a sum being fixed on the tariff. our dear comfortable old hostess was fascinated by our presence, and sat smiling and blinking beside us all the time, her hands, folded over her portly form below the short straight cotton jacket she wore, were raised occasionally to retie her black silk head-covering. again and again she murmured--"_englantilaiset_" (englishwoman), and nodded approval. poor baron george, our kindly cicerone, had to answer all her questions about england, our age, size, weight, height, the price of our clothing, why our hair was so dark--an endless subject of inquiry among the peasantry--and to ply her with questions from us in return. it was with real regret we left these folk, they were so honest and simple, so far removed from civilisation and its corrupting influences on their thoughts, that they and their life seemed to take us back a couple of centuries at least. the family came out and shook hands with us on leaving; but not before they had one and all sat down in our grand carriage, just to see what it was like. individually, we thought it a ramshackle old chaise, but further acquaintance with the springless native carts made us look back at that victoria as if it were the lord mayor's coach! it is no uncommon thing for the roofs of the houses in _savolax_ to be thatched with thin strips of wood an inch or so wide, similar to our old shingle roofs in the west of england. at _wiborg_ we were shown, among the curiosities of the town, a red-tiled roof, which finlanders thought as wonderful as we thought their wooden thatch. these were quite common formerly, but are now condemned by the insurance companies. such is life. what we eat, others despise; what we think beautiful, others find hideous; what we call virtue, other lands consider vice; what to us is novel and interesting is to others mere commonplace; the more we travel, and the more we read, the less we find we know; except that there may be good and use in all things, and that other men and women, with whom we have not one idea in common, are quite as clever or good as ourselves--more so, perhaps. "why, what is that? three stone chimneys without any house," we exclaimed, seeing three brick erections standing bleak and alone in the midst of a dreary waste. "ah," replied baron george, "that is one of the sad sides of finnish life. those three stone chimneys are the only remains of what was once a three-roomed house. all the dwellings, as you know, are entirely built of wood, except for the brick chimneys. these three great gaunt towers mean fire, and perhaps starvation. one of those little houses will burn to the ground in an hour, on a dry windy night, and all the toil of years, all the wealth of its proprietor, the home of his family, be reduced to the few ashes you see on the ground, while the clock marks one short hour." it seemed horrible. those three chimneys looked so gaunt and sad. where were the folk who had lived beside them, cooked beneath them, and spent their lives of grief or joy? outside every house in finland stands a large wooden ladder, tall enough to reach to the top of the roof, for fire is very common, and generally ends in everything being demolished by the flames. buckets of water, passed on by hand, can do little to avert disaster, when the old wooden home is dry as tinder and often rotten to the core. again our attention was arrested as we jogged along by the earth mounds; those queer green mounds that look like graves in a country church-yard, which are so common in iceland, where they grow so close together, there is often hardly room for a pony's feet to pass between, but on the origin of which scientists disagree. the grass-grown sand--sand as beautiful and silvery as the sand of iona, but here was no sea, although it had left its deposits in ages long gone by--was beautifully fresh and green. iceland moss, too, grows in profusion--a very useful commodity for the peasants, who plug out the draughts between the wooden walls of their houses with it, or make it into a kind of medicinal drink, as the buckinghamshire peasant makes her nettle tea from the wondrous stinging nettles that grow five feet high in some of the lovely lanes of wooded bucks. iceland moss, indeed, has taken the place of bread in times of famine, for that or the bark of the pine tree has been ground down many times into flour and mixed with a little rye for the half-starved peasants' only sustenance. with all their sufferings and their hardships, can one be surprised that they take life seriously? that evening at ten o'clock--but it might have been seven judging by the brilliancy of the sunset--we rowed on the lake, accompanied by a grandson of finland's greatest poet, _runeberg_. it really was a wonderful night; we english have no idea of the gorgeousness of long july sunsets in finland, just as we little dream of the heat of the day, or the length and beauty of the evenings. it is in these wondrous sunny glows, which spread themselves like a mantle, that the hundreds of miles of lakes and thousands and thousands of islands look their best. and there are many such evenings. evenings when one feels at peace with all the world, and one's thoughts soar higher than the busy turmoil of the crowded city. it is these wonderful nights that impress the stranger most of all in finland. there is something to make even the most prosaic feel poetical. there is a dull dreariness, a sombre sadness in the scene, and at the same time a rich warmth of colouring, a strength of nature that makes even the least artistic feel the wonders of the picture spread out before them, and, withal, a peacefulness, for these vast tracts of uninhabited land mean repose. those numerous pine forests, denoting quiet, and the wide, wide canopy of heaven, unbroken by mountain or hill, give one an idea of vast extent and wild expanse. finland is reposeful; and has a charm about it which is particularly its own. it was on such an evening as this that we rowed over the wide deep waters of _maaninka_, as still as a mirror, to the little white church, with its tower soaring out of the pines, on the other side. we had been joined by several new friends, all anxious to show us their church; but, individually, our happiness was a little spoilt by the fact that the boat was leaking badly, and we could positively see the water rising in her bottom. up--up--up--the water crept. we had been in many curious boats before, and had become quite accustomed to folding our petticoats neatly up on our laps, but this boat filled more rapidly than usual, and we did not run for the bank till six or eight inches of water actually covered her bottom. it rose apace, and before we reached the shore our feet and our skirts were well up on our seats for safety, and, verily, we were well-nigh swamped. out we scrambled; the men immediately beached the frail bark, and as they did so the water all ran away. "what an extraordinary thing," we thought, and when they pulled her right on to shore we saw the last drops disappearing from the boat. "why, the plug is out," one of them exclaimed, and, sure enough, the plug was out! in the bottom of every finnish boat they have a round hole, and this round hole contains a large cork or plug, so that when the craft fills with water, as she invariably does from a leak, or spray, or other causes, they merely pull her up on to the shore, take out the plug, and let the water run away. but in this particular case the plug had never been put in, or had somehow got lost, and we actually rowed across a lake with the water rising at the rate of about half an inch a minute. we scrambled up over the slippery pine needles to the crest of the little eminence on which the church stood, and found ourselves in the most primitive of churchyards. there was no attempt at law or order, for the graves had just been put down between the trees wherever there was room for them. we noticed a painted clock on several of the wooden tombstones, evidently intended to indicate the exact hour at which the person lying under the sod had died. for instance, it would stand at twenty-two minutes to four o'clock, which was the precise moment the dead man expired, carefully noted by the exactitude of the finns, who are very particular about such matters. in the newspapers, for example, it is stated, "johanson died, aged years months and days," and this record of the number of days is by no means uncommon. they are a most exact nation. the _maaninka_ church, like so many others in finland, has its important-looking bell-tower standing quite a distance away from the main building. we climbed to the top after some persuasion, and certainly our trouble was repaid by a glorious view. but, alas! every finlander has a hobby, and that hobby is that at every point where there is a view of any sort or description, in fact, one might say where there is no view at all, he erects an _aussichtsturm_. these outlook towers are a bane of existence to a stranger. one goes out to dinner and is taken for a walk round the island. at every conceivable point is an outlook tower, generally only a summer-house, but, alas, there are usually some steps leading to the top which one toils up, and has the fatigue of doing so without any reward, as they are not high enough to afford any better view at the summit than one has at the base. to go to the top of st. peter's in rome, st. paul's in london, the isaak church in petersburg, the citadel at quebec, or the castle of chapultepec in mexico, is worth the fatigue, but to toil up twenty steps on a hot summer's day and clamber down again, to repeat the operation a quarter of a mile farther on, and so _ad lib._, becomes somewhat monotonous, and one begins to wish that every outlook tower in finland might be banished from the country. stop, once we ascended an outlook tower that more than rewarded our labour. it was at _kuopio_, which town we had just left--perhaps the most beautifully situated in all finland--and as the night when we arrived chanced to be particularly brilliant, the view from the top of that outlook tower will be long treasured in remembrance. to many of us the recollection of the past is a storehouse of precious gems; the realisation of the present is often without sparkle; yet the anticipation of the future is fraught with glitter, and the crown of happiness is ever before our eyes. chapter xv on we jog it is difficult for strangers to travel through the heart of finland, for every person may not be so lucky as to be passed on from one charming friend to another equally delightful, as we were; and, therefore, we would like to suggest the formation of a guides' bureau at _helsingfors_, where men and women teachers from the schools--who are thoroughly well educated and always hold excellent social positions in finland--could be engaged as couriers. these teachers speak english, french, and german, and would probably be glad to improve that knowledge for a few weeks by acting as friendly guides for a trifling sum in return for their expenses. it is only a suggestion, but the schools being closed in june, july, and august, the teachers are then free, and voyageurs are willing to explore, though their imperfect knowledge of finnish prevents their penetrating far from steamers and trains. as we drove towards _lapinlahti_ we were surprised by many things: the smallness of the sheep, generally black, and very like those of _astrakhan_; the hairiness of the pigs, often piebald; the politeness of the natives, all of whom curtsied or took off their hats; the delicious smell the sun was drawing out of the pine trees, and, perhaps more wonderful still, the luxuriance of gorgeously coloured wild-flowers, which are often as beautiful as in spring-time in switzerland or morocco; the numbers of singing birds, and, above all, the many delicious wild berries. the wild strawberries of finland in july are surprising, great dishes of them appear at every meal. paris has learnt to appreciate them, and at all the grand restaurants of paris cultivated "wild strawberries" appear. in finland, the peasant children slice a foot square of bark from a birch tree, bend it into the shape of a box without a lid, then sew the sides together with a twig by the aid of their long native knives, and, having filled the basket, eagerly accept a penny for its contents. every one eats strawberries. the peasants themselves half live on them, and, certainly, the wild berries of switzerland are far less numerous, and not more sweet than those of finland. as evening drew on smoke rose from the proximity of the homesteads, and we wondered what it could be, for there are never any trees near the houses. these are the cow-fires, lighted when the animals come to be milked. the poor creatures are so pestered and tormented by gnats and flies--of which finland has more than her share--that fires are kindled towards evening, a dozen in one field sometimes, where they are to be milked, to keep the torments away. the cows are wonderfully clever, they know the value of the fires, and all huddle close up to them, glad of the restful reprieve, after the worry they have endured all day. poor patient beasts, there they stand, chewing the cud, first with one side of their body turned towards the flames and then the other, the filmy smoke, the glow of the fire and the rays of the sunlight, hiding and showing distinctly by turns the girls and their kine. the dairymaids come with their stools to milk their soft-eyed friends, and on blazing hot summer evenings they all sit closely huddled round the fires together. these milkmaids have some strange superstitions still lurking in their breasts, and the juice of the big birch tree is sometimes given to cows to make them yield better butter. _lapinlahti_ is a typical finnish village, and had at least one newspaper of its own, so advanced were the folk, even at the time of my first visit. outside the little post-station we were much amused to read on a board " kilos. to st. petersburg, kilos. to uleåborg." but we were more amazed on our return from a ramble, prepared to grumble that the meal ordered an hour before was not ready, when the host walked into the room, and, making a most polite bow, said in excellent english-- "good day, ladies." "do you speak english?" we asked. "certainly. i think i ought to after doing so for sixteen years." we were immensely surprised. who could have expected to find in the interior of finland a peasant landlord who was also an english linguist? he seemed even more delighted to see us, than we were to have an opportunity of learning something concerning the country from one speaking our own tongue so perfectly, for it is a little difficult to unravel intricate matters when the intermediary is a swedish-speaking finlander, who has to translate what the peasant says into french or german for your information, you again retranslating it into english for your own purposes. our host spoke english fluently, and it turned out that, having been a sailor like so many of the finns, he had spent sixteen years of his life on board english vessels. he preferred them, he said, as the pay was twice as good as on the finnish boats. he told us that many of his countrymen went away to sea for a few years and saved money, the wise ones bringing it home and investing it in a plot of land; "but," he added, "they do not all succeed, for many of them have become so accustomed to a roving life, and know so little of farming, that they cannot manage to make it pay. i have worked very hard myself, and am getting along all right;" and, looking at his surroundings, we certainly thought he must be doing very well indeed. the most remarkable rocking-chair we had ever seen in our lives stood in his sitting-room. the finlanders love rocking-chairs as dearly as the americans do, but it is not often that they are double; our host's, however, was more than double--it was big enough for two fat finlanders, or three ordinary persons to sit in a row at the same time, and it afforded us some amusement. as there is hardly a house in finland without its rocking-chair, so there is seldom a house which is not decorated somewhere or other with elk horns. the elk, like deer, shed their horns every year, and as finland is crowded with these arctic beasts, the horns are picked up in large quantities. they are handsome, but heavy, for the ordinary elk horn is far more ponderous in shape and weight and equal in width to a scotch royal. the ingenuity of the finlander is great in making these handsome horns into hat-stands, umbrella-holders, stools, newspaper-racks, and portfolio-stands, or interlacing them in such a manner as to form a frieze round the top of the entrance hall in their homes. a really good pair will cost as much as twenty-five shillings, but when less well-grown, or in any way chipped or damaged, they can be bought for a couple of shillings. a finnish hall, besides its elk-horn decorations, is somewhat of a curiosity. for instance, at one of the governor's houses where we chanced to dine, we saw for the first time with surprise what we repeatedly saw again in finland. along either wall was a wooden stand with rows and rows of pegs upon it for holding hats and coats. there were two pegs, one below the other, so that the coat might go beneath, while the hat resting over it did not get hurt. but below each of these pegs, a few inches from the floor, was a little wooden box with an open side. they really looked like forty or fifty small nests for hens to lay their eggs in, and we were very much interested to know what they could be for. what was our surprise to learn they were for goloshes. in winter the younger guests arrive on snow-shoes (_skidor_), but during wet weather or when the road is muddy, during the thaws of spring, they always wear goloshes, and as it is considered the worst of taste to enter a room with dirty boots, the goloshes are left behind with the coat in the hall. this reminded us of henrik ibsen's home in christiania, where the hall was strewn with goloshes. so much is this the fashion that we actually saw people walking about in indiarubber "gummies," as our american friends call them, during almost tropical weather. habit becomes second nature. whether that meal at _lapinlahti_, with its english-speaking landlord, was specially prepared for our honour or whether it was always excellent at that _majatalo_ we cannot say, but it lingers in remembrance as one of the most luxurious feasts we had in the wilds of _suomi_. the heat was so great that afternoon as we drove towards _iisalmi_--two or three inches of dust covering the roadways--that we determined to drive no more in the daytime, and that our future expeditions should be at night; a plan which we carried out most successfully. on future occasions we started at six in the afternoon, drove till midnight, and perhaps did a couple or three hours more at four or five in the morning; think of it! after peeping into some well-arranged free schools, looking at a college for technical education, being invited with true finnish hospitality to stay and sleep at every house we entered, we drew up at the next _majatalo_ to _lapinlahti_. it was the post-house, and at the same time a farm; but the first thing that arrested our attention was the smoke--it really seemed as if we were never to get away from smoke for forest-burning or cow-milking. this time volumes were ascending from the _sauna_ or bath-house, for it was saturday night, and it appeared as if the population were about to have their weekly cleansing. the _sauna_ door was very small, and the person about to enter had to step up over a foot of boarding to effect his object, just as we were compelled to do on fridtjof nansen's ship the _fram_,[e] when she lay in christiania dock a week or two before leaving for her ice-drift. in the case of the _fram_ the doors were high up and small, to keep out the snow, as they are likewise in the finnish peasants' homes, excepting when they arrange a snow-guard or sort of fore-chamber of loose pine trees, laid wigwam fashion on the top of one another, to keep back the drifts. we had hardly settled down to our evening meal--in the bedroom of course, everything is done in bedrooms in finland, visitors received, etc.--before we saw a number of men and women hurrying to the _sauna_, where, in true native fashion, after undressing _outside_, all disappeared _en masse_ into that tremendous hot vapour room, where they beat one another with birch branches dipped in hot water, as described in the chapter on finnish baths. in _kalevala_ we read of these mixed baths thus-- so he hastened to the bath-house, found therein a group of maidens working each upon a birch broom. when this performance was over they redressed _outside_, which is a custom even when the ground is deeply covered with snow. our host, a finely-made young fellow, fondly nursing a baby of about two years old, seeing our interest in everything, was very anxious we should join the bath party, and begged baron george to tell us of its charms, an invitation we politely but firmly refused. he showed his home. when we reached a room upstairs--for the house actually possessed two storeys--we stood back amazed. long poles suspended from ropes hung from the ceiling, and there in rows, and rows, and rows, we beheld clothing, mostly under-linen. some were as coarse as sacking; others were finer; but there seemed enough for a regiment--something like the linen we once saw in a harem in tangier, but tangier is a hot country where change of raiment is often necessary, and the owner was a rich man, while finland is for most part of the year cold, and our landlord only a farmer. the mystery was soon explained; the farmer had to provide clothing for all his labourers--a strange custom of the country--and these garments were intended for eight or nine servants, as well as a large family. moreover, as washing in the winter with ice-covered lakes is a serious matter, two or three big washes a year are all finns can manage, the spring wash being one of the great events in their lives. the finer linen belonged to the master's family, the coarser to the labourers, and there must have been hundreds of articles in that loft. when we left the room he locked the door carefully, and hung up the key beside it. this is truly finnish. one arrives at a church; the door is locked, but one need not turn away, merely glance at the woodwork round the door, where the key is probably hanging. it is the same everywhere--in private houses, baths, churches, hotels; even in more primitive parts one finds the door locked for safety--from what peril we know not, as honesty is proverbial in finland--and the key hung up beside it for convenience. why are the northern peoples so honest, the southern peoples such thieves? our night's lodging disclosed another peculiarity;--nothing is more mysterious than a finnish bed. in the daytime every bed is shut up. the two wooden ends are pushed together within three feet of one another, kaleidoscope fashion, the mattress, pillows, and bedclothes being doubled between; but more than that, many of the little beds pull also out into double ones from the sides--altogether the capacities of a _suomi_ couch are wondrous and remarkable. yet, again, the peasants' homes contain awfully hard straight wooden sofas, terrible-looking things, and out of the box part comes the bedding, the boards of the seat forming the _soft_ couch on which weary travellers seek repose, and often do not find it. finnish beds are truly terrible; for wood attracts unpleasant things, and beds which are not only never aired, but actually packed up, are scarcely to be recommended in hot weather. one should have the skin of a rhinoceros and no sense of smell to rest in the peasant homes of _suomi_ during the hot weather. seaweed was formerly used for stuffing mattresses on the coast in england; indeed some such bedding still remains at walmer castle; but the plant in use for that purpose in the peasant homes of finland gives off a particularly stuffy odour. the country and its people are most captivating and well worth studying, even though the towns are nearly all ugly and uninteresting. hospitality is rife; but the peasants must keep their beds in better order and learn something of sanitation if they hope to attract strangers. as matters are, everything is painfully primitive, spite of the rooms--beds excepted--being beautifully clean. in winter, sportsmen hunt the wild bear of finland; at all seasons elk are to be seen, but elk-hunting was legally forbidden until quite recently. there are long-haired wild-looking pigs roving about that might do for an impromptu pig-stick. there are feathered fowl in abundance, and fish for the asking, many kinds of sport and many kinds of hunts, but, alas, there is a very important one we would all gladly do without--that provided by the zoological gardens in the peasant's bed. possibly the straw mattresses or _luikko_ may be the cause, or the shut-up wooden frames of the bedstead, or the moss used to keep the rooms warm and exclude draughts, still the fact remains that, while the people themselves bathe often and keep their homes clean, their beds are apt to shock an unhappy traveller who, though he have to part with all his comforts and luggage on a _kärra_ ride, should, if he value his life, stick fast to insect powder and ammonia, and the joyful preventive of lavender oil. well we remember a horrible experience. we had driven all day, and were dead tired when we retired to rest, where big, fat, well-nourished brown things soon disturbed our peace; and, judging by the number of occupants that shared our couch, the peasant had let his bed out many times over. sitting bolt up, we killed one, two, three, then we turned over and tried again to sleep; but a few moments and up we had to sit once more. keating had failed utterly--finnish bed-fiends smile at keating--four, five, six--there they were like an advancing army. at last we could stand it no longer, and passed the night in our deck-chairs. those folding deck-chairs were a constant joy. in the morning we peeped at the nice linen sheets; sprinkled on the beds were brown-red patches, here and there as numerous as plums in a pudding, each telling the horrible tale of murders committed by english women. we had to rough it while travelling from _kuopio_ to _uleåborg_. often eggs, milk, and black bread with good butter were the only reliable forms of food procurable, and the jolting of the carts was rather trying; but the clothes of the party suffered even more than ourselves--one shoe gradually began to part company with its sole, one straw hat gradually divided its brim from its crown, one of the men's coats nearly parted company from its sleeve, and the lining inside tore and hung down outside. we had not time to stop and mend such things as we might have mended, so we gradually grew to look worse and worse, our hair turning gray with dust, and our faces growing copper-coloured with the sun. we hardly looked up to west end style, and our beauty, if we ever possessed any, was no longer delicate and ethereal, but ruddy and robust. we were in the best of health and spirits, chaffing and laughing all day long, for what is the use of grumbling and growling over discomforts that cannot be helped--and half the joy of _compagnons de voyage_ is to laugh away disagreeables at the time, or to chat over curious reminiscences afterwards. _never less alone than when alone_ is a true maxim; but not for travelling; a pleasant companion adds a hundredfold to the pleasures of the journey, especially when the friendship is strong enough to stand the occasional strains on the temper which must occur along wild untrodden paths. on that memorable drive through _savolax_ in northern finland, we paid a somewhat amusing and typical visit to a _pappi_ (clergyman) at a _pappila_, or rectory. these country _luthersk kyrka_ (lutheran churches) are few and far between, a minister's district often extending eight or ten miles in every direction, and his parishioners therefore numbering about six or eight thousand, many of whom come ten miles or more to church, as they do in the highlands of scotland, where the free kirk is almost identical with the lutheran church of finland. in both cases the post of minister is advertised as vacant, applicants send in names, which are "sifted," after which process the most suitable are asked to come and perform a service, and finally the _pappi_ of finland, or minister of scotland, is chosen by the people. there is seldom an organ in the finnish country churches, and, until andrew carnegie gave some, hardly ever in the scotch highlands--each religion has, however, its precentor or _lukkari_, who leads the singing; both churches are very simple and plain--merely whitewashed--perhaps one picture over the altar--otherwise no ornamentation of any kind. on one of our long drives we came to a village proudly possessing a church and a minister all to itself, and, being armed with an introduction to the _pappi_, we arranged to call at the _pappila_. "yes," replied a small boy with flaxen locks, "the _pappi_ is at home." hearing which good news in we went. it was a large house for finland, where a pastor is a great person. there were stables and cow-sheds, a granary, and quite a nice-sized one-storeyed wooden house. we marched into the salon--a specimen of every other drawing-room one meets; the wooden floor was painted ochre, and polished, before each window stood large indiarubber plants, and between the double windows was a layer of iceland moss to keep out the draughts of winter, although at the time of our visit in july the thermometer stood somewhere about ° fahr., as it often does in finland during summer, when the heat is sometimes intense. before the middle window was the everlasting high-backed prim sofa of honour, on which the stranger or distinguished guest is always placed; before it the accustomed small table, with its white mat lying diamond fashion over the stuff cloth cover, all stiff and neat; also at other corners of the room were other tables surrounded by half a dozen similarly uncomfortable chairs, and in the corner was that rocking-chair which is never absent from any home. poor finlanders! they do not even know the luxury of a real english armchair, or a chesterfield sofa, but always have to sit straight up as if waiting to eat their dinner--very healthy, no doubt, but rather trying to those accustomed to less formal drawing-room arrangements. but then it must be remembered that everything is done to encourage general conversation in finland, and the rooms seem specially set out with that object. in a moment one of the three double doors opened, and a lady of middle age, wearing a cotton gown, entered, and bade us welcome. she could only speak finnish, so although we all smiled graciously, conversation came to an untimely end, for finnish is as unlike english, french, german, or even swedish, as gaelic is to greek. happily the _pappi_ soon appeared; a fine-looking man with a beard and a kindly face. he spoke swedish, and could understand a few german words; so he spoke swedish, we spoke german very slowly, and the conversation, although, as may be imagined, not animated, was quite successful, particularly as it was helped occasionally by a translation from our cicerone, who could talk french fluently. we were particularly struck by a splendid old clock, wondrously painted, which stood in a corner of the room. a grandfather's clock is a very common piece of furniture in finland, and in many of the farmhouses we visited we saw the queer old wooden cases we love so well in england, painted with true native art. just as the norwegians love ornamenting their woodwork with strange designs, so the finns are partial to geometrical drawings of all descriptions; therefore corner cupboards, old bureaus, and grandfather clocks often come in for this form of decoration. another favourite idea is to have a small cup of shot on the writing-table, into which the pen is dug when not in use--and sand is still used in many places instead of blotting-paper. while the _pappi_ was explaining many things, his wife had slipped away, as good wives in _suomi_ always do, to order or make the coffee, because no matter at what time one pays a visit, coffee and cakes invariably appear in about half an hour; it is absolute rudeness to leave before they come, and it is good taste to drink two cups, although not such an offence to omit doing so as it is to leave a moorish home without swallowing three cups of sweet mint-flavoured tea. we were getting on nicely with our languages, endlessly repeating _voi_, _voi_, which seems to be as useful in finnish as _so_ in german, helped by a good deal of polite smiling, when a door opened and mamma returned, followed by a boy of seventeen, who was introduced as "our son." we got up and shook hands. he seized our finger, and bowed his head with a little jerk over it--that was not all, however, for, as if desirous of dislocating his neck, he repeated the performance with a second handshake. this was extra politeness on his part--two handshakes, two jerky bows; all so friendly and so homely. by the time he had finished, we realised that another boy, a little younger, was standing behind ready to continue the entertainment. then came a girl, and seven small children, all brushed up and made beautiful for the occasion, marched in in a row to make acquaintance with the _englantilaiset_, each, after he or she had greeted us, quietly sitting down at one of the other tables, where they all remained placidly staring during the rest of the visit. a circle is considered the right thing in finland, and the old people alone talk--the young folk listening, and, let us hope, improving their minds. coffee came at last; a funny little maid, with her hair in a long plait, brought in a tray, with a pretty embroidered cloth, a magnificent plated coffee-pot, luscious cream, and most appetising cakes, something like shortbread, and baked at home. we ate and we drank, we smiled upon the homely kind hostess, we shook hands with her, and all the children in a row on leaving, and the pastor, with a huge bunch of keys, accompanied us to see his church, which, funnily enough, we could only reach by the help of a small boat--all very well in the summer when boats can go, or in the winter when there is ice to cross, but rather disheartening at the mid-seasons, when crossing becomes a serious business and requires great skill. there was a "church boat" lying near by, a great huge cumbersome sort of concern that twelve people could row at a time, and two or three times as many more stand or sit in, and on sundays this boat plied to and fro with the congregation. the church boats are quite an institution in finland. they will sometimes hold as many as a hundred persons--like the old pilgrim boats--some twenty or thirty taking the oars at once. it is etiquette for every one to take a turn at rowing, and, as the church is often far away from the parishioners, it is no unusual thing for the church boat to start on saturday night, when the sabbath is really supposed to begin, and it is quite a feature in the life of _suomi_ to see the peasants arriving on saturday evening straight from their work at the waterside, at the appointed time for starting to their devotions, with their little bundles of best clothes. they are all very friendly, and as they row to the church they generally sing, for there is no occasion on which a number of finns meet together that they do not burst into song. this weekly meeting is much valued. arrived at the church, they put up for the night at the homesteads round about, for be it understood the church is often some distance even from a village; or, if balmy summer, they lie down beneath the trees and, under the brilliant canopy of heaven, take their rest. when morning comes the women don their black frocks, the black or white head-scarves, take their bibles--neatly folded up in white handkerchiefs--from their pockets, and generally prepare themselves for the great event of the week. when the church service, which lasts some hours, is over, they either turn up their skirts, or more often than not take off their best things and, putting them back into the little bundle, prepare to row home again. the church boats are, of course, only used in the summer; in the winter the route is much shortened by the universal snow and ice, which makes it possible to sledge over land or sea alike, and make many short cuts. on a later date we went to a sabbath service at a _luthersk kyrka_, and a very remarkable affair it proved. as we drove up to the church about one o'clock, we found over a hundred _kärra_ or native carts standing outside. in these funny "machines," as our scotch friends would rightly call them, many of the congregation had arrived, and, after having tied their horses to the railings outside, gone in to service. the church held nearly four thousand people, and every man and woman present was a peasant. the building was crowded to excess, the sexes being divided by the centre aisle. nearly every one wore black, that being considered the proper wear for sundays, weddings, and festivals, especially for the married women, who also wore black silk handkerchiefs over their heads. each woman carried a large white handkerchief in her hand, upon which she leaned her head while praying. subsequently we found that all the females rolled their prayer-books up in these cloths while carrying them home. service had begun at ten, so that three hours of it was over when we arrived, and the communion, which lasted another hour and a half, was about to begin. the place was packed, the day very hot, and the peasant atmosphere a little oppressive. we were much struck by the children; mere babies actually being nursed by their mothers, while elder urchins walked in and out of the building--going sometimes to have a game with various other little friends amidst the graves outside, plaiting daisy-chains, or telling fortunes by large ox-eyed daisies. the men walked out also and enjoyed a pipe or gossip with a neighbour, and there was that general air of freedom which prevails in a roman catholic church during divine service; nevertheless, the intense simplicity, the devotion, the general inclination to moan and weep, reminded us of the highland kirk. but it was very surprising to hear the pastor tell his congregation that at a certain day he would be at an appointed place to receive grain, butter, potatoes, calves, etc. the clergymen are paid in "kind," which to them is a suitable arrangement, as they are generally peasants' sons and well able to attend to their own glebes; but it did sound funny to hear a clergyman, standing in the pulpit, talk of butter and eggs. when the congregation stood up we naturally stood up with them. the finlanders are short, and for two women five feet seven or eight high, with hats on the tops of their heads, suddenly to rise, amazed a congregation the female members of which were seldom taller than five feet one or two, and wore nothing on their heads but a flat handkerchief. we felt like giraffes towering over the rest of the people, and grew gradually more and more ashamed of our height and hats, simple though the latter were. how we longed to be short and have our heads covered with black silk handkerchiefs like the rest of the folk around, so as to be unnoticeable in their midst. we felt we were a very disturbing influence; for, gradually, those who had not noticed our entrance began to realise there was something strange in the church, and nudged their friends to look at two tall women--dark into the bargain--each with a hat on her head. their surprise might be forgiven, for to them we must have appeared strange apparitions indeed. in that church there was no organ, but a young man got up and started the singing, just as a precentor does in the highlands; having once given them the tune, that vast congregation followed his lead very much at their own sweet wills. for our own part, certainly, we came away much impressed by their devoutness, and not a little touched and interested by the simplicity of the lutheran service. when we came out some of the men, who had previously slipped away, were beginning to harness their ponies in order to drive very possibly ten miles. little groups were also forming to enjoy the luncheons brought in handkerchiefs, ere starting to walk back long distances to their homes. verily, we might have been in scotland; there were the gossips round the church doors, the plate to hold the pence, covered with a white cloth, ay, and even the dogs were waiting; there were the women lifting up their black skirts, inside out, exactly as her highland sister when attired in her best gown. how like in many characteristics the two nations are. it seems ridiculous to be always writing of the intense heat in finland, but as it is generally supposed to be a cold country, where furs and rugs are necessary even in the summer, we could not help being struck by the fact of the almost tropical temperature, at times, which we encountered all through june, july, and august. no wonder people had laughed at our fur coats on arrival. it is a fact that although in finland the winters are terribly long and severe, the summers are extremely hot. just before reaching _iisalmi_ we turned in at the gate of _herr stoehman_, a large gentleman-farmer to whom we had an introduction, and paid a most pleasant visit. he was a delightful man, hospitality personified; and his wife at once invited us to stay with them, utter strangers though we were. he has a sort of agricultural college, in the dairy department of which we were specially interested. our host takes twenty peasants at a time, who remain for a two years' course. in the summer they are taught practical farming out of doors, in the winter theoretical, indoors. it was a wonderful institution, splendidly organised, well kept, and quite a model in its way. indeed, it is amazing to see how advanced the finlanders are in all matters of technical education, and there is no doubt but that the future of _suomi_ will be the outcome of the present teaching. adjoining was a _mejeri_, where a dozen women were being instructed in butter and cheese-making. the butter all goes to england, while the cheese is an excellent _copy_ of our own cheddar, which we have almost forgotten how to make. poor old albion! butter and cheese-making is quite a new trade, pursued with energy in finland. until about co-operative dairying was almost unknown in denmark, and now denmark is a rich country which has established over two thousand creameries, and sends to england alone some £ , , worth of butter annually, to say nothing of eggs and bacon. finland not having been slow to see the extent to which denmark had succeeded, _mejeris_ were established here and there over the land for the making of butter and cheese; indeed, there were in seven hundred and fifty-four of them in existence. imagine our surprise when driving along a country road, right in the wilds of finland, to see a vast herd of cows being driven home to be milked; yet this happened several times. "where are they going?" we asked on one occasion; "how can so few families require so much milk?" "they are going to the creamery," was the reply. "this neighbourhood could not use the milk, which is all made into cheese, and the cream into butter, to be exported to england." being much interested in the subject, having written a pamphlet _danish_ versus _english buttermaking_, we of course stopped to see the creamery, and were amazed to find it conducted on the latest scientific danish principles, and, although established little over a year, in full working order. the proprietor only owned sixty cows, but he had the milk sent in from a hundred more, and exactly as they return the skim milk in denmark, so they return it in finland. by a careful process of autumn calving, the finnish dairymen manage to have most milk in the winter, when they make butter, which they send seventy miles by sledge to the nearest railway train, to be borne hence to _hangö_, the only port in finland that is open during the winter months. there it meets a steamer which conveys it to england. in , there were exported about , , kilograms (about lbs.). in , this quantity had doubled itself, the amount exported being , , kilograms. of this, great britain took the larger share, her import of finnish butter being of the value of twenty-four million marks, while russia's only reached four million marks. formerly all the butter was sent to russia; but russia, like every other country, except england, woke up and began making her own butter. finland, however, does not suffer, she merely ships to england direct, or through denmark to england instead, and the trade in ten years has trebled itself. few of us in england realise what a large sum goes out of this country every day for butter consumed by a people unable to make it for themselves. england imports vast quantities of butter from normandy, brittany, australia, and the argentine, and much comes from denmark, to which country finland is a fair rival. we stayed at the _mejeri_ late into the night, for we were always making mistakes as to time in that bewilderingly everlasting daylight. after weeks of eternal light, one begins to long for the peace of darkness. one of my sister's greatest joys, and one of my greatest discomforts, was a kodak. now, a large kodak is one of those hard uncomfortable things that refuses to be packed anywhere; it takes up too much room in a gladstone bag, it is apt to get broken in the rug-strap, and, therefore, the wretched square box invariably has to be carried at all inconvenient times and seasons. however, as there were no photographs to be procured of northern finland, and my sister declared there was no time for me to make any sketches, we decided to struggle with the kodak, and i tried to bear the annoyance of its presence in the anticipation of the joy of future results. my sister kodaked here and kodaked there; she jumped out of the little cart and made snap-shots of old peasants and older houses, of remarkable-looking pigs and famine-stricken chickens. in fact, she and the kodak were here, there, and everywhere, and glorious reproductions were anticipated. each day she exclaimed, "what a mercy we have not to wait for you to sketch. why, i can do twenty or thirty pictures while you do one." i felt the reproof and was silenced. then came a day when the roll of a hundred had to be changed. we all know the everlasting cry, the endless excuse for bad photographs. "you see, the light got in;" and generally the offender, we learn, is some ruthless custom-house official, who cares nothing for travel and less for art, and whose one joy is unearthing cigars and disturbing ladies' hats. this time "the light got in" with a vengeance. for a couple of days my wretched sister endeavoured to find a place to change that roll, but in a land where there is continual day it is absolutely impossible to find night! we inquired for cellars, we even sought for a cave--all unsuccessfully; and so the night we left the _mejeri_ she decided that the roll _must_ be changed, and darkness secured somehow. there were two windows to our bedroom; we had two travelling rugs; one was pinned up over each window, but the light streamed in above and below and round the curtains. we then pinned up our skirts, but even that was not sufficient; we added bodices to the arrangement, the length of the sleeves filling up inconvenient cracks, but the light still streamed under and above and round the two doors. we laid pillows on the floor, and got rid of that streak of illumination; we stuffed the sides and top with towels, but even then there was a wretched grayness in our chamber which forbode ill. "i know," exclaimed my sister, "i shall get under the bed." but as the bed was of wood and very low, she only succeeded in getting her own head and the kodak beneath its wooden planks, while i carefully built her in with blankets and eider-downs, and left her to stifle on a dreadfully hot night with a nasty-smelling little lamp under the mattresses. she groaned and she sighed, but at last she emerged triumphant, if very hot, from the undertaking. particularly happy in the result of our midnight performances, she started another roll, and felt assured that she had a hundred excellent photographs of the life of the people in the interior of dear old finland. only after we returned to london did the terrible truth reveal itself; the light had indeed got in, and one after another of the films, as they were taken from their bath, disclosed nothing but gray blackness! the laugh (and the cry) was on my side now. why, oh why, had i not persevered with the sketches, instead of only doing one at our midnight haven of rest in the _uleåborg_ rapids? footnotes: [e] described in _a winter jaunt to norway_. chapter xvi a "torp" and "torppari" wedding like most finnish towns, _iisalmi_ proved somewhat disappointing. we waited a day or two, to rest, to collect letters and answer them, to bathe and mend our clothes, and then gladly jogged on again. our start from _iisalmi_ for _kajana_ was somewhat remarkable. having dined and enjoyed our coffee, we had ordered the _kärra_ for five o'clock, when it was cooler, well knowing that, in consequence of the finns' slowness, it would take at least an hour to pack our luggage away. the queer little two-wheeled vehicles drove into the courtyard. they had no springs, and no hood to protect us from the rain or sun; but were merely fragile little wooden carts, such as are used by the natives themselves. the seat was placed across them dog-cart fashion, and behind it and under it the luggage had to be stowed. verily, we were starting through finland in carts! on this occasion our party mustered six in all; therefore, as a _kärra_ holds but two, three of these primitive little vehicles were required for our accommodation. we were very anxious to dispense with the services of the coachmen, two of them at all events, as we had often done before, for it seemed quite ridiculous, considering we always drove ourselves, to take two men with us who were not wanted, and whose extra weight told on a long country journey. but not a bit of it; no amount of persuasion could induce them to stop behind. they were looking forward to the trip with pleasurable excitement, and evidently considered travelling with english ladies a special honour. the amount of talking and discussing and arranging that went on over this simple matter is appalling to think about even now. first of all they said there was too much luggage, although they had already interviewed the luggage the day before. then they declared that if they took it they must be paid ten marks extra for doing so; then they packed all the heavy articles into one _kärra_, and all the light into another, and finally came to the conclusion that this plan would not answer, and unpacked everything again. it really became ridiculous at last, and we sat on the steps of the little hostelry and roared with laughter to see them shaking their fists first at each other, and then at our unoffending finnish friends, while measuring the gladstones or thumping the rugs. all this fuss was about three gladstones, a small dress-basket, only the size of a suit case, a bundle of rugs, and a basket full of provisions! by half-past six, however, matters were amicably settled, and the patient little ponies, which had stood perfectly still throughout the squabble, feeling us mount into our places, started off at a full gallop out of the town almost before we had caught the reins. sheer bravado on the part of the ponies, or one might perhaps better say training, for it is the habit of the country to go out of towns with a dash, and enter after the same fashion. as a rule, the coachman sits on the floor at the feet of the off-side occupant of the _kärra_, holding the reins immediately over the splash-board, and dangling his feet somewhere above the step. if he does not do this, he hangs on by his eyelashes behind, balanced on the top of the luggage. our men, or rather lads, afforded us much amusement before we parted with them two days later, for their interest in us was quite wonderful, and, finding that we were surprised at many things to which they were quite accustomed, they began showing off every trifle with the air of princes. when they came to a friend's house on the route they invited us to enter, consequently we drank milk with many queer folk, and patted the heads of numerous native children. after our gentlemen friends had finally paid these coachmen and given them their tips at _kajana_, some days later our sitting-room door burst open, and in the three solemnly filed, cap in hand, looking somewhat shy, and formally went through the process of handshaking with us all in turn. if the warmth of their affections was meant to be conveyed by the strength of their grip, they must have loved us very much indeed, for our fingers tingled for an hour afterwards; but the funniest part of all, perhaps, was the whisper of one in my ear. finnish was his language; i did not understand a word and shook my head; when, putting his mouth still closer to my ear, he murmured the words again. alas! i could not understand, and he knew it; yet his anxiety was so great he tried and tried again to make me comprehend. "take me to england," at last i understood was the translation of the words the nervous youth, with many blushes and much twirling of his cap, kept repeating. but firmly and decisively i declined the honour, and he left quite crestfallen. the tenant farmer, who often pays his rent in labour, is called a _torppari_, and his house a _torp_. he can only be likened to the crofters in the poorer parts of scotland; but where the crofter builds his house of stone, the _torppari_ erects his of wood; where the crofter burns peat and blackens his homestead absolutely, the _torppari_ uses wood, and therefore the peat reek is missing, and the ceilings and walls merely browned; where the crofter sometimes has only earth for his flooring, the _torp_ is floored neatly with wood, although that wood is often very much out of repair, the walls shaky with age, extra lumps of iceland moss being poked in everywhere to keep out the snow and rain. before the door was a sort of half wigwam made of tree trunks, standing outwards with the top end leaning against the house; this was to protect the door from the winter snows, to make a sort of screen in fact, so that it need not be dug out every day as is sometimes necessary. the door itself was only about three feet high, and began a foot from the ground,--another plan to keep back the encroaching snow. yet these _torps_ are very superior, and the inhabitants much richer than those wretched folk who dwell in the _savupirtti_, a house without a chimney. there are many such queer abodes in finland, more especially in the _savo_ or _savolax_ districts there yet remain a large number of these _savupirtti_, the name given to a chimneyless house in the nominative singular in finnish, famous as we know for its sixteen cases, which so alter the original that to a stranger the word becomes unrecognisable. to a foreigner these _savupirtti_ are particularly interesting, and as we drove through the country we peeped into several of such curious homesteads, all more or less alike, and all absolutely identical in their poverty, homes which in only exist in the most remote districts. seeing a queer tumbledown little hovel without a chimney by the wayside, we called "_bur-r-r_" to the pony, which, like all good scandinavian horses, immediately drew up, and, throwing down the knotted blue cotton reins, we hopped out, our student friend proceeding to take the top rail off the gate to admit of our clambering over the remaining bars. these strange loose fences are a speciality of finland, and although they look so shaky and tumbledown, they withstand the winter storms, which is no slight matter. the same loose fences are to be found in the united states or canada, but there they are made zig-zag, and called snake-fences. in finland, the gates do not open; they are simply small pine trunks laid from one fence to the other, or any chance projecting bough, and when the peasant wants to open them, he pulls them out and wrecks the whole fragile construction. it saves locks and hinges, even nails, or, the native equivalent, tying with silver-birch twigs; but it is a ramshackle sort of contrivance nevertheless. in we went to see a chimneyless cot. see, did we say? nay, we could not see anything until our eyes became accustomed to the dim light. it was a tiny room, the stove occupying almost half the available space; there was no proper chimney; the hole at the top did not always accomplish the purpose for which it was intended, consequently the place was black with ancient smoke, and suffocating with modern fumes. the floor was carpeted with whole birch boughs, the leaves of which were drying in the atmosphere as winter fodder for the one treasured cow. for the cow is a greater possession to the finn than his pig to the irishman. the other quarter of the room contained a loom, and the space left was so limited we were not surprised that the dame found her little outside kitchen of much use. two very small windows (not made to open) lighted the apartment; so how those folk saw during the long dark winter days was a mystery to us, for they made their own candles, they said, just as english folks formerly made dips, and we all know the illumination from dips is uncertain and not brilliant. still smoke, want of ventilation, and scarcity of light did not seem to have made them blind, although it had certainly rendered them prematurely old. beyond was the bedroom, so low that a man could only stand upright in the middle; the wooden bed was folded away for the day, and the rough wooden table and bench denoted signs of an approaching meal, for a black bread loaf lay upon the table, and a wooden bowl of _piimää_ was at hand. standing on the little barley patch which surrounded the house, we saw a sort of wigwam composed of loose fir-tree trunks. they leant against one another, spread out because of their greater size at the bottom, and narrowed to a kind of open chimney at the top. this was the housewife's extra kitchen, and there on a heap of stones a wood fire was smouldering, above which hung a cauldron for washing purposes. how like the native wigwam of southern climes was this northern kitchen--in the latter case only available during the warm weather, but then the family washing for the year is done in summer, and sufficient _rågbröd_ also baked for many months' consumption. before we had finished inspecting this simple culinary arrangement, the housewife arrived. she was no blushing maid, no beautiful fresh peasant girl. blushing, beautiful maids don't exist in finland, for which want the mongolian blood or the climate is to blame, as well as hard work. the girls work hard before they enter their teens, and at seventeen are quite like old women. the good body who welcomed us was much pleased to see visitors in her little _savupirtti_, and delighted to supply us with fresh milk, for, in spite of their terrible poverty, these _torppari_ possessed a cow--who does not in finland?--wherein lies the source of their comparative wealth. the highland crofter, on the other hand, rarely owns even a pig! naturally the advent of three _kärra_ created considerable sensation, and the old woman had immediately hurried to call her husband, so that he also might enjoy a look at the strangers. consequently, he stood in the doorway awaiting our arrival. of course they neither of them wore any shoes or stockings. even the richer peasants, who possess shoes or fur-lined boots for winter use, more often than not walk barefoot in the summer, while stockings are unknown luxuries, a piece of rag occasionally acting as a substitute. the old lady's short serge skirt was coarsely woven, her white shirt was loose and clean, her apron was striped in many colours, after the native style, and all were "woven by herself," she told us with great pride. on her hair she wore a black cashmere kerchief. her face might have belonged to a woman of a hundred, or a witch of the olden days, it was so wrinkled and tanned. her hands were hard and horny, and yet, after half an hour's conversation, we discovered she was only about fifty-five, and her man seventy. but what a very, very old pair they really seemed. weather-beaten and worn, poorly fed during the greater part of their lives, they were emaciated, and the stooping shoulders and deformed hands denoted hard work and a gray life. they seemed very jolly, nevertheless, this funny old pair. perhaps it was our arrival, or perhaps in the warm sunny days they have not time to look on the dark side of things while gathering in the little tufts of grass that grow among the rocky boulders, drying birch leaves for the cow for winter, attending to the small patch of rye--their greatest earthly possession--or mending up the _savupirtti_ ere the first snows of october are upon them, that made them so cheerful. the old woman was much more romantically inclined than the man. the finnish character is slow and does not rush into speech; but a friendly pat on one grandchild's head, and a five-penni piece to the other, made our hostess quite chirpy. "may god's blessing accompany your journey," she said at parting; "may he protect the english ladies." we got into cordial relations by degrees, and our friend the student, seeing a piece of woven band hanging up, asked its use. "ah," she answered, "that was one of the pieces the bridegroom gave to his groomsmen." she was greatly delighted at our evident interest in her concerns, and told us how her son, when about twenty, met with a girl of another village, and took a fancy to her. (by law a girl must be fifteen, and a boy eighteen, and able to prove they have something to live on before they can marry.) "he saw her many times, and decided to ask her to be his wife," she continued. "he had met the girl when he was working at her father's house, so he sent a _puhemies_, or spokesman, to ask for the girl's hand." this personage is generally chosen from among the intended bridegroom's best friends, as in the days of _kalevala_, and usually is possessed of a ready tongue. the _puhemies_ still plays a very important rôle, for not only does he ask for the girl's hand (while the suitor sits like a mute), but he is obliged to help at the wedding ceremony and feast, and also has to provide, from his own purse, brandy and coffee for all the guests. after the proposal was accepted, our old friend told us there was an exchange of rings, her son got his bride such a splendid wide gold band--much wider than hers--and it was arranged that they would marry when the man had collected enough goods, and the girl had woven sufficient linen and stuffs to stock the little home. "of course," exclaimed the voluble old lady, "my son gave the _kihlarahat_." "what is that?" we asked. "why, it is a sort of deposit given to the girl's father to show he really means to marry the girl. a cow, or something of that sort, denotes he is in earnest, and my son also gave money to the girl herself to buy things for their future household." "how long were they engaged?" "two years--for we are poor, and it took that time to collect enough to get married. ah, but the marriage was a grand thing, it was," and the old hag chuckled to herself at the remembrance. all these things and many more the proud mother told us, till at last she became completely engrossed in the tale of her son's wedding. he was her only boy, and she talked of him and of his doings with as much pride as if he had been the greatest hero of this or any century. she informed us how, a month before the wedding, the young couple had gone to the pastor dressed in their best, the _puhemies_, of course, accompanying them, and there arranged to have the banns read three sundays in the bride's district. we were struck by this strange resemblance to our own customs, and learnt that the publication of banns is quite universal in finland. "the wedding was here," she went on, warming to her narrative, "for, naturally, the wedding always takes place at the bridegroom's house." looking round at the extremely small two-roomed hovel, we wondered how it was possible to have _läksiäiset_ or _polterabend_, as our german friends call the festival before the wedding, at this bridegroom's house, for the one little sitting-room and the one little bedroom combined did not cover a larger space of ground than an ordinary billiard table. "it is a very expensive thing to get married," she continued, "and my son had to give many presents to the _appi_ (father-in-law), _anoppi_ (mother-in-law), _morsianpiiat_ (bridesmaids), _sulhasrengit_ (groomsmen), etc." knowing the poverty of the place and the distance from a town where goods could be purchased, we enquired the sort of presents he gave. "to all the bridesmaids," she said, "he gave _sukat_ (stockings), that being the fashion of the country, to the groomsmen he gave _paita_ (shirts), to his mother-in-law, the _anoppi_, he gave _vaatteet_ (dress), and to the _appi_ he gave a _vyö_ (belt). then to various other friends he distributed _huivit_ (head handkerchiefs)," and altogether the wedding became a very serious drain on the family resources. "but oh! it was a lovely time," she exclaimed rapturously. "a wedding is a splendid thing. we had a feast all that day and the next day, and then the priest came and they were married." "did many friends come to the wedding?" we ventured to ask. "oh yes, certainly, every one we knew came from miles round. some brought a can of milk, and some brought corn brandy, and others brought _gröt_ (porridge), and _järvinen_ had been to _iisalmi_, so he brought back with him some white bread. ay, it was a grand feast," and she rubbed her hands again and again, and positively smacked her lips at the recollection of the festival. "we danced, and ate, and sang, and made merry for two days, and then we all walked with my son and his bride to that little _torp_ on the other side of the wood, and left them there, where they have lived ever since." "do you generally stay long in the same house in finland?" "of course," she replied, "i came here when i was a bride, and i shall never leave it till i am a corpse." this led to her telling us of the last funeral in the neighbourhood. a man died, and, according to custom, he was laid out in an outhouse. the coffin, made by a peasant friend, was brought on a sledge, and, it being march with snow on the ground--"to the rumble of a snow sledge swiftly bounding," as they say in _kalevala_. the corpse on the fourth day was laid in the coffin, and placed in front of the house door. all the friends and relatives arrived for the final farewell. each in turn went up to the dead man; the relations kissed him (it will be remembered the royal party kissed the corpse of the late tzar before his funeral in the fortress church at st. petersburg), and his friends all shook him by the hand. then the coffin was screwed down, laid across a pony's back, to which it was securely strapped, and away they all trudged to the cemetery to bury their friend. she went on to tell us of a curious old fashion in finland, not altogether extinct. during the time that a corpse is being laid out and washed, professional women are engaged to come and sing "the corpse song." this is a weird melancholy chant, joined in by the relations as far as they are able, but chiefly undertaken by the paid singers. this confirmed what two of the _runo_ singers at _sordavala_ had told us, that they were often hired out to perform this lament, and, as we were much interested in such a quaint old custom, we asked them at the time if they would repeat it for us. they seemed delighted. the two women stood up opposite one another, and each holding her handkerchief over her eyes, rolled herself backwards and forwards, slowly singing the melancholy dirge the while. they had a perfect fund of song these _runo_ women, of whom our friend at the _savupirtti_ constantly reminded us; we told her that they had recited how _wäinämöinen_ had made himself a _kantele_ out of the head of a pike, and how he had played upon it so beautifully that the tears had welled to his own eyes until they began to flow, and as his tears fell into the sea the drops turned into beautiful pearls. we asked the old dame if she could sing? "oh yes," and without more ado this _prima donna_ sang a song about a girl sitting at a bridge waiting for her lover. it ran--_annuka_, the maid of _Åbo_, sat at the end of the bridge waiting for a man after her own mind, a man with tender words. out of the sea came a man, a watery form out of the depths of the waves with a golden helmet, a golden cloak upon his shoulders, golden gloves upon his hands, golden money in his pockets, and bridal trinkets such as formerly were given to all finnish brides. "will you come with me, _annuka_, fair maid of _Åbo_?" "i do not want to, and i will not come," she answers. _annuka_, the maid of _Åbo_, sits at the end of the bridge, and waits for a man after her own mind, a man with tender words. out of the sea comes a man, a watery form out of the depths of the waves with a silver helmet, a silver cloak upon his shoulders, silver gloves upon his hands, silver money in his pockets, and silver bridal trinkets. "will you come with me, _annuka_, fair maid of _Åbo_?" "i do not want to, and i will not come," she answers. _annuka_, the maid of _Åbo_, sits at the end of the bridge, and waits for a man after her own mind, a man with tender words. out of the sea comes a man, a watery form out of the depths of the waves with a copper helmet, a copper cloak upon his shoulders, copper gloves upon his hands, copper money in his pockets, and copper bridal trinkets. "will you come with me, _annuka_, fair maid of _Åbo_?" "i do not want to, and i will not come," she answers. _annuka_, the maid of _Åbo_, sits at the end of the bridge, and waits for a man after her own mind, a man with tender words. out of the sea comes a man, a watery form out of the depths of the waves with an iron helmet, an iron cloak upon his shoulders, iron gloves upon his hands, iron money in his pockets, and iron bridal trinkets. "will you come with me, _annuka_, fair maid of _Åbo_?" "i do not want to, and i will not come," she answers. and then came a poor man, whose only wealth was bread. it is not gold, nor silver, nor copper, nor iron, but bread that is the staff of life. this is emblematical, to show that money does not make happiness, and so _annuka_, the maid of _Åbo_, takes him, and sings-- "now i am coming to you, my husband. _annuka_, the maid of _Åbo_, will be happy now, and happy evermore." many old finnish songs repeat themselves like this, and most of them are very sad. our dear old woman was moved to tears as she sang in her squeaky voice, and rocked herself to and fro. as she sang a butterfly flew past us, and was quickly joined by a second, when a small fight ensued, the pretty creatures coming together as though kissing one another in their frolicsome short-lived glee, and then separating again, perhaps for ever. "_ukonkoira_" (butterflies), remarked the old woman, beaming with pleasure. then our student explained that the butterfly was looked upon as sacred, and its flight considered a good omen. we had been much impressed by our old dame; her innocence and childish joy, her love of music, and her god-fearing goodness were most touching. we cannot repeat too often that the finn is musical and poetical to the core, indeed, he has a strong and romantic love for tales and stories, songs and melody, while riddles are to be met with at every turn, and the funny thing is that these riddles or mental puzzles often most mercilessly ridicule the finns themselves. no language, perhaps, is richer in sayings than the finnish. when a finn sees any one trying to perform some feat beyond his power, and failing, he immediately laughs and cries, "_eihän lehmä puuhun pääse_" (the cow cannot climb a tree). or, when speaking of his own country as superior to every other land, he invariably adds, "_oma maa mansikka muu maa mustikka_" (my own land is a strawberry, all other lands are bilberries). these proverbs and riddles, of which there are some thousands, are the solace of the winter evenings, when the old folk sit opposite one another in the dark--more often than not hand in hand--each trying who will give in first and find his store of riddles soonest exhausted. in fact, from childhood the finn is taught to think and invent by means of riddles; in his solitude he ponders over them, and any man who evolves a good one is a hero in his village. they meet together for "riddle evenings," and most amusing are the punishments given to those who cannot answer three in succession. he is sent to _hymylä_, which is something like being sent to coventry. he is given three chances, and if he can answer none every one sings-- _hyys hyys hymylään! kun et sitäkään tiedä._ meaning, "well, well, off you go to coventry as punishment for ignorance." then the poor delinquent is made to play the fool. he is set on a chair in the middle of the room, dressed up as fancy pleases the audience. his face is often absurdly painted, and after enduring every indignity, to the amusement of his friends, he is escorted from the room to ponder over the answers to the riddles. how they chaff him. does he enjoy _hymylä_? are the dogs howling and the children running away? if he wants to come back he had better harness a mouse to his carriage, find a cat to act as coachman, and a saucepan for a sledge. he must wash himself with tar and paint himself with feathers. and so they chaff and laugh on during those long winter evenings, in their badly-lighted homes, where books are still rare. every one in finland can read to-day, but the first finnish book was published in , by _mikael agricola_, the bishop who made the first translation of the new testament; but they cannot read much in their dimly-lighted houses during the long winters, and therefore it is that they sing so constantly, and repeat mythical rhymes, or riddles and proverbs, which our host and hostess declared they loved. their _savupirtti_ and land did not belong to them, the latter told us. the actual owner was a farmer who let it out in various _torps_. our particular friend, the _torppari_, paid him one-third of all he made off his holding, and gave him besides eight days' work during the year--being called upon for this manual contribution whenever the farmer was himself most pressed. this particular little chimneyless house lay eighteen kilometres from _iisalmi_, where the nearest shops were to be found. the poor old woman told us that she had had nine children, out of which number she had lost seven. when we considered the smallness of her home, the terrible want of ventilation and sanitation, the poverty of the people, and the hardness of their lives, we were not in the least surprised at her statement, but we marvelled much at the mother having survived all she must have gone through. she made a wonderful picture as she sat on the wooden bedstead, her bare feet playing a tattoo on the wooden floor, while her clean clothes seemed absolutely to shine against the darkness of the wall behind her. although so far removed from civilisation, and from luxuries of any kind, the old couple knew how to read, and they had one or two treasured books. poor as they were, they, like every other native peasant, possessed a _piplia_ (bible), a _katkismus_ (catechism), a _virsikirja_ (hymn-book), and an _almanakka_ (almanac). we ventured to ask the good soul if she ever read them. "of course," she replied, "or what should we do at the _lukukinkerit_?" "and what may that be?" we asked, surprised; only to learn that in the winter months the priests travel about by means of sledges from one big peasant's house to another, where the smaller _torpparis_ all assemble, and there hold an examination of the people in order to ascertain their holy knowledge. the peasants rather dread these _lukukinkerit_, as the priest asks them difficult questions, which it is considered an absolute disgrace not to be able to answer satisfactorily. as we know, this was formerly the custom in scotland, and severe punishments were given to those who could not answer rightly, and prove themselves thoroughly versed in bible history. this custom is now practically done away with in scotland, although the examination for the communion, which takes place twice a year in the highlands, partakes somewhat of the same nature. in finland the winter examinations are very serious matters, and therefore it is that the bible, prayer-book, and hymn-book are to be found in every peasant's home, while a profound knowledge of their contents is general. besides examining the folk on religious subjects, the priest also severely tests their reading capabilities, for no one can be married in finland unless he be able to read to the satisfaction of his spiritual adviser. this means that all finland can read. yet in russia, near by, only a quarter of the population know how to read, and far fewer can write, and they still count by beads. as we turned to leave the little homestead, we noticed some apparently dead birch-trees planted on both sides of the front door, and knowing the birch and ash were still considered more or less sacred by the peasant, we wondered what such a shrubbery could signify--why, when the trees were dead, they had not been thrown away. everything else looked fresh and green, so we were more than surprised to notice their crumpled brown leaves, and eventually asked how it came about that these two young trees were dead. "it was my husband's _nimipäivä_ (name-day) lately," said the old body, "and of course we went to the forest and cut down two birch-trees, and stuck them into the ground by the front door to bring him luck." the name-day, be it understood, is an important event in finnish family history, a festival equivalent to our birthday rejoicings; and in the case of the father or mother, the children generally all assemble on their parent's name-day. the richer folk have a dinner or a dance, or something of that kind--the poor a feast; but all decorate their front door with birch-trees, in honour of the occasion, while those who have the means to do so exchange presents. our dear old lady was almost tearful when we left, and, asking our names most affectionately, tried again and again to pronounce the queer-sounding _tweedie_ and _harley_. a bright idea struck us; we would show her the words written, and thereupon we gave her our cards. this was too much joy. fancy any one actually having her name on a card. then she turned the extraordinary bits of pasteboard over and over, and seizing our hands, kissed them to show her gratitude. afterwards she went to her cupboard, and producing a white handkerchief, one of those she kept for conveying her bible to and from church, carefully wrapped the cards round and round, and promised to keep them always in remembrance of her strange visitors. it was really wonderful, driving along the roads, how near our three _kärra_ kept to one another; sometimes, indeed, they were so close that we could all converse conveniently. this answered very well, but when, by chance or design, they got about twenty or thirty yards apart, the dust kicked up by the horse in front was so fearful that we suffered much, and it was really amusing at the end of each day to see how completely our hair was powdered, and note the wonderful gray hue our faces had assumed, eyelashes, eyebrows and all. i was wearing a black dress, on the lapels of which it afforded amusement to my companions to play a game of _noughts and crosses_ with their fingers amid the accumulated dust. it was extraordinary, considering the thickness of the sand, for it was more sand than dust that lay upon the roads, that our ponies could go so well; and when the sun was at its height the heat was so fearful, and the number of mosquitoes and horseflies so appalling, that this inconvenience, coupled with the dust, still made it absolutely impossible at times for us to pursue our journey during the mid-day hours; but those glorious northern evenings made up for all the discomfort. the roads themselves were wonderfully straight, and as there is a red post every kilometre (or half mile), we could tell how far we went without even turning our heads, because we could count five or six posts at the same time, so straight was the way. as we proceeded farther north the country became more hilly, and our little animals would stop and walk up steep inclines; having reached the summit, however, they were wont to gallop full speed to the bottom. we reached a most charming _majatalo_. it was near midnight, and, as it is one of the best in finland, it was decided that we should there spend a night. it was only the pretence of a night, however, for the coachman declared it would be quite impossible to drive during the heat of the following day, and, consequently, we must start again on our way at four in the morning at the very latest. here at last, thank heaven, we found a _majatalo_ which was _properly inspected_. there were iron bedsteads and clean mattresses, and, having suffered so terribly as we had done, it seemed very bad luck that we could not enjoy more than three hours' rest in such delightful quarters. while our supper, which consisted of milk, coffee, eggs, and delicious butter, supplemented with the white bread we brought with us, was being prepared, we had a look into the large farmhouse where our host himself lived. instead of the family being in bed, as in an ordinary english farm they would be at midnight, a girl was sitting in the corner making butter with an old-fashioned churn of the wooden-handled type, which you pull up and down to use. there had evidently been a great baking that day or the day before, for the farm kitchen seemed to contain hundreds of loaves, which were stacked on the floor, piled on the table, and strewn on benches, not yet having been suspended by means of strings from the ceilings and rafters. we thoroughly enjoyed that evening meal, sitting on the balcony, or rather large porch of the little annexe kept for strangers; one and all agreed no nicer butter, sweeter milk, or more perfect cream--of which they brought us a quart jug--could be found anywhere, and that travellers must indeed be hard to please who could not live for a few days on such excellent farm produce, even though they might have to dispense with the luxuries of fish, flesh, and fowl. three a.m. is a little early to turn out of bed, but when one is travelling through the wilds one must do many trying things, so we all got up at that hour, which, judging by our feelings, seemed to us still midnight. the sun, however, was of a different opinion, he was up and shining brilliantly long before any of us. we had previously told our finnish student the joke of having tried to order hot water over night, and, after much explanation and many struggles to make her understand, how the girl had returned with a teacup full of the boiling liquid, and declared that the greatest trouble we were forced to encounter in finland was to get any water to wash with, more especially warm. he smiled, but was not daunted. we heard him up early, and imagined he was arranging things with the coachman and ordering breakfast--for we cannot ever be sufficiently grateful to our finnish friends for their kindness and thoughtfulness in managing everything for our comfort from the first day of our stay in finland till the last; but he had done more than this, and apparently made up his mind that we should never, while he travelled with us, have cause to accuse finland again of being unable to produce _hett vatten_! at three a.m. a knock came at the door--a most unusual form of proceeding in a country where every one walks in without this preliminary--and, having opened it in reply, we found a buxom maid standing with an enormous jug of boiling water, and a yet more enormous wooden pail, such as one might require for a family wash, full of the same boiling liquid, and a tub outside the door from which volumes of steam were rising. it was for the english ladies, she said. our student had paid us out, and we felt ashamed and sorry. as we sat at breakfast we watched a girl drawing water from the well. every house in finland, be it understood, has its well, over which is a raised wooden platform something like a table with a hole in the middle for the bucket to pass through. a few feet back a solid pillar stands on the ground, through the fork-like top of which a pine-tree trunk is fixed, generally about thirty feet long. it is balanced in such a way that at the one end of it a large stone is tied to make it heavy, while suspended from a fine point, standing in mid-air, appear a series of wooden posts joined together by iron hasps so as to form a long chain or cord, to the bottom end of which the bucket is attached. thus the bucket with its wooden string is, when filled with water, equivalent in weight to the stone at the other end of the pump. in fact, the whole thing is made on the principle of a pair of scales. the girl seized the empty bucket, pulled it over the hole, and, hanging on to the jointed poles with all her weight, sent the bucket down some thirty feet into the well below. by this time the stone at the far end of the pole was up in mid-air. when she thought the bucket was full she let go, and immediately it began to rise at the same time as the stone at the other end began to descend, and in a moment the beautiful well-water reached the surface. such pumps as these are to be found all over finland, and their manufacture seems a speciality of the country. we had considerable fun over the coffee cups at breakfast, for every one of them had written round its border love passages and mottoes in finnish--another instance of how the love of proverbs and mottoes is noticeable everywhere throughout the country. our gentleman friends had great jokes over these inscriptions, but they unkindly refused to tell us what they really meant. we had learnt a good deal of finnish from sheer necessity, and could manage to order coffee or milk, or to pay what was necessary, but our knowledge of the language did not go far enough for us to understand the wonderful little tales printed round the coffee cups from which we drank. again we were given silver spoons. for once we really started at the hour named, and at four o'clock, with a crack of the whip, our ponies galloped out of the yard of the most delightful _majatalo_ we had ever slept in. on we drove through the early hours of the morning, everything looking fresh and bright, the birds singing, the rabbits running across the road. as we passed fields where the peasants were gathering in their hay, or ploughing with an old-fashioned hand-plough, such as was used in bible days and is still common in morocco, we wondered what finnish peasants would think of all our modern inventions for saving labour, especially that wonderful machine where the wheat goes in at the top and comes out corn at one end, chaff in the middle, and straw, bound ready for sale, at the other. we drove on till nine o'clock, by which time we were all ready for another meal. jogging along country roads aids digestion, and by nine we had forgotten we had ever eaten any breakfast at all. we had really arranged to spend some hours at our next halting-place, in fact not to leave until the cool of the evening, so as to rest both our horses and ourselves, and be saved the glare and the heat. but tired as our animals seemed, and weary though we were, that station proved impossible. we had to stay for a couple of hours, for it would have been cruel to ask the ponies to leave sooner, but we were indeed thankful that we had not arranged to spend the night in such an awful hole. to relate the horror of that _majatalo_ would be too fearful a task. suffice it to say everything was filthy, and we felt sick at heart when drinking milk and coffee at the place. worse still, our white bread had come to an end, and we had to eat some of the native rye bread. the housewife and all the women in the house being terrible even to look upon, it seemed perfectly awful to eat bread that they had made, but yet we were so hungry. reader, pity our plight. though the sun was blazing, we dare not sit inside, for the little tufts of hair tied round the legs of the tables a foot and a half from the floor found here practical use. these fur protectors are often used in _suomi_ to keep insects from crawling up the legs of the table, but, in this case, when we bent down to look at the bit of ba-lamb's fur so tied, we saw to our horror that it was full of animal life. calling the attention of one of our finnish friends to this fact, he told us that there was a saying that none of these creepy things would come across _filbunke_, and that a friend of his, travelling in these northern parts, had on one occasion been so pestered that he fetched a wooden mug of _filbunke_, and with a wooden spoon made a ring on the floor with the soured milk, inside which he sat in peace, the crawling things remaining on the outside of his charmed circle. "and," he added, laughing, "we will go and fetch _filbunke_, if you like, and then you can all sit inside rings of your own." "no," we replied, "instead of doing that, let us get away from here as quickly as possible." out we sallied, therefore, to ask the coachman how soon he could be ready to drive on to _kajana_. how typical. there was one of the lads, aged thirteen, lying on his back, flat out on the wooden steps of the house, smoking hard at a native pipe; his felt hat was pulled down over his eyes, his top boots were standing beside him, and over them hung the rags he used for stockings. "go on," he said. "oh! we cannot go on till this afternoon, it's too hot." "but," remonstrated grandpapa, "it is not so very far to _kajana_, and the ladies are anxious to get to the end of their journey." "quite impossible," he replied, "the horses must rest." wherein he certainly was right; the poor brutes had come well, and, after all, whatever the horrors and inconveniences may be to oneself, one cannot drive dumb animals to death, so, therefore, at that _majatalo_ we stayed, weary and hungry prisoners for hours. only think of it! oh, how glad we were to shake the dust of that station from our feet, and how ridiculous it seemed to us that such dirty untidy folk could exist in the present day, to whom "cleanliness is next to godliness" was an unknown fact. we found some amusement, however, for the family had just received in a box-case a sewing-machine--a real english sewing-machine. a "traveller" had been round even to this sequestered spot, possessed of sufficient eloquence to persuade the farmer to buy his goods, and it certainly did seem remarkable that in such a primitive homestead, with its spinning-wheel and hand-loom in one corner, a sewing machine and a new american clock should stand in the other. on we jogged; but, be it owned, so many consecutive days' driving and so few hours' rest, in carts without springs or seats and without backs, were beginning to tell, and we were one and all finding our backbones getting very limp. the poor little ponies too began to show signs of fatigue, but luckily we at last reached a hilltop which showed we were drawing close to the end of our _kärra_ journey. we pulled up for a while to give the poor creatures time to breathe, and for us to see the wide-spreading forests around. the view extended for miles and miles, and undulating away to the horizon, nothing appeared but pine-trees. no one can imagine the vastness, the black darkness, the sombre grandness of those pine forests of finland. then the descent began; there were terribly steep little bits, where the one idea of the ponies seemed to be to fly away from the wheels that were tearing along behind them. we held on tightly to the blue knitted reins, for the descents in some places were so severe that even those sure-footed little ponies were inclined to stumble--fatigue was the cause, no doubt;--but if our own descent were exciting, it was yet more alarming to look back at the _kärra_ following, too close for comfort, behind us, literally waggling from side to side in their fast and precipitous descent, encircled by clouds of dust. _kajana_ at last. what a promised haven of rest after travelling for days in springless carts, happily through some of the most beautiful and interesting parts of finland. chapter xvii tar-boats tar hardly sounds exciting; but the transport of tar can be thrilling. we were worn out and weary when we reached _kajana_, where we were the only visitors in the hotel, and, as the beds very rapidly proved impossible, we women-folk confiscated the large--and i suppose only--sitting-room as our bed-chamber. a horsehair sofa, of a hard old-fashioned type, formed a downy couch for one; the dining-table, covered by one of the travelling-rugs, answered as a bed--rather of the prison plank-bed order--for number two; and the old-fashioned spinet, standing against the wall, furnished sleeping accommodation for number three. we had some compunctions on retiring to rest, because, after our luxurious beds had been _fixed up_, as the americans would say, we discovered there was no means whatever for fastening the door,--it was, as usual, minus bolts and locks; but as _kajana_ was a quiet sleepy little town, and no one else was staying in the hotel but our own men-folk on the other side of the courtyard, weary and worn out with our jolty drive, and our waterfall bath, we lay down to rest. we were all half asleep when the door suddenly opened and in marched two men. they stood transfixed, for of course it was quite light enough for them to see the strange positions of the three occupants of the sitting-room; and the sight scared them even more than their appearance surprised us, for they turned and fled. we could not help laughing, and wondering what strange tales of our eccentricities would enliven the town that night. descending the rapids of the _uleåborg_ river in a tar-boat is one of the most exciting experiences imaginable. ice-boat sailing in holland, _skilöbnung_ (snow-shoeing) in norway, tobogganing in switzerland, horse-riding in morocco--all have their charms and their dangers--but, even to an old traveller, a tar-boat and a cataract proved new-found joys. there is a vast district in finland, about ° north latitude, extending from the frontier of russia right across to _uleåborg_ on the gulf of bothnia where tar plays a very important rôle; so important, in fact, that this large stretch of land, as big or bigger than wales, is practically given over to its manufacture and transport. after leaving _kuopio_, as we had travelled northwards towards lapland, the aspect of the country altered every twenty miles. it became far more hilly, for finland, as a whole, is flat. the vegetation had changed likewise, and we suddenly found ourselves among tracts of dwarf birch so familiar to travellers in iceland. as we had driven on towards _kajana_ we had repeatedly passed pine-trees from which part of the bark was cut away, and, not realising we were now in _tar-land_, wondered at such destruction. the history of the tar, with which we are so familiar, is very strange, and not unmixed with dangers. pine-trees, growing in great forests where the bear, wolf, and elk are not unknown, are chosen for its production. the first year the bark is carefully cut away from the ground as high as a man can reach, except on the northern side of the tree, where a strip two inches wide is left intact. now this strip is always the strongest part of the bark because it faces northwards, and it is, therefore, left to keep the tree alive and to prevent it from drying. all the rest of the trunk remains bare, shining white and silvery in the sunlight, and forms a thick yellow juice, which oozes out of the tree, and smells strongly of turpentine. this ultimately makes the tar. the next year the same process is repeated, except that then the bark is peeled higher up the tree, the strip on the northern side always being left as before to keep the sap alive. the tenacity of the life of bark is wonderful, as may be seen at a place like burnham beeches, where, in many cases, all the inside of the tree has practically gone, and yet the bark lives and the tree produces leaves. this treatment goes on for four, and sometimes five, years, until most of the tree is stripped. it was in this naked condition the pines first attracted our attention, for a barkless tree covered with a thick yellow sap, to the uninitiated, is an unusual sight. in october, or early in november, of each year the selected pines are duly cut down, and later, by the aid of sledges, they are dragged over the snow through the forests to the nearest _tervahauta_ (kiln), there to be burnt into tar. so cold is it in this part of the world during winter that the thermometer often drops to ° or ° fahr. below freezing-point, and then the hard-worked little horses look like balls of snow, the heat from their bodies forming drops at the end of their manes, tails, and even their long coats, for their hair grows to an even greater length than the shetland ponies. at last their coats become so stiff they are not able to move, so they often have to be taken indoors and thawed by the oven's friendly warmth. these sturdy little beasts gallop over the hardened forest track, dragging their wood behind them--for without the aid of snow to level the roads, or ice to enable the peasants to make short cuts across the lakes, little trade could be done. the winter comes as a boon and a blessing to man in those northern realms; all transport is performed by its aid, sledges travel over snow more easily than wheels over roadless ways, and _sukset_ or ski and snowshoes traverse snow or ice more rapidly than the ordinary summer pedestrian. suffocated with heat and dust, we were ourselves bumping along in a springless _kärra_, when our attention was first arrested by--what? let us say a huge basin built on piles. this was a _tervahauta_ or tar-kiln, which looked like an enormous mushroom turned upside down, standing on a thick stem of wooden piles, only in this case the mushroom was ninety or a hundred feet in circumference, and the stem at least fifteen feet wide. as we have nothing at all like it in england, it is difficult to describe its appearance. think of a flattened basin or soup-plate made of pine-trees and covered over with cement, so that an enormous fire may burn for days upon it. in the middle, which slopes downwards like a wine funnel, is a hole for the tar to run through into a wooden pipe, which carries it to the base of the kiln; passing along to the outside, the wooden pipe is arranged in such a way that a barrel can be put at the end to receive the tar. this vast basin has to be very solidly built in order to withstand the weight of wood--sometimes over a hundred trees at a time--and also the ravages of fire, therefore it is securely fastened and supported at the edges by whole trunks of trees bound together with cement. once built, however, it lasts for years, and, therefore, most tar-farmers have a _tervahauta_ of their own. the felled timber, having been sawn into pieces about a yard long in order that they may be conveniently packed on the sledges, arrive at the kiln before spring, so that by june all is ready for the actual manufacture of the tar itself. the _tervahauta_ basin is then packed as full as it is possible to stack the wood, which is always laid round the middle in order to leave a hole in the centre free to receive the tar. by the time the mass is ready it looks like a small hillock, and is made even more so in appearance by being thickly covered over with turf, that it may be quite air-tight, and that a sort of dry distillation may go on. fires are then lighted at different points round the edge, to the end that the interior may catch fire, the process being aided by a train of old tar which runs from the burning point to the centre, as dynamite is laid prior to an explosion. by this means the whole huge bonfire shortly begins to smoulder. the fire burns for ten days and nights, during which time it is never left, a man always staying beside the _tervahauta_ to see no accident disastrous to the tar happens. as the heat inside increases, the tar gradually begins to drop through the wooden pipe into barrels below, and from sixty to two hundred of them may be extracted from one kiln load. needless to say, one man cannot move the filled barrel and replace it with an empty one, so, whenever such a change becomes necessary, by means of a shrill whistle he summons a companion to his aid; at other times he sits alone and watches for hours together the smouldering flames. making the barrels is another finnish trade, and the peasants, who manufacture them in winter, get from eightpence to tenpence each, for they have to be very strong. it is, indeed, much more difficult to make a tar-barrel than a water-cask. here ingenuity has to come to the peasant's aid; each barrel, when filled, weighs about four hundred pounds, and has to be conveyed from the forest country to the nearest waterway or town. finns rise to the occasion, however. they take thick pieces of wood, on to which a kind of axle is securely attached, and adjusting them by means of ingenious pegs fixed at both ends of the barrel, where the side pieces of wood project beyond the actual top and bottom, the cask itself practically becomes its own wheels. wooden shafts are fixed from the axle to the horse's collar, and though, with his queer load, the little ponies are not beauties to look at, they are marvels to go, trotting along over tree trunks and stony boulders to the nearest waterway, the barrels following--carriage and wheels in one. after many vicissitudes this tar arrives at the end of its land journey--but if that be on the frontier of russia, it may still have two hundred and fifty miles of river, lake, and rapid to traverse before it reaches _uleåborg_, where it is transhipped to england, america, and germany. it had been arranged that we were to descend the wonderful rapids from _kajana_ to _uleåborg_, a day and a half's journey; but we wanted to taste something of the ascent as well,--there is no _down_ without an _up_, and we thought we should like to try both. the tar-boats that go down the _oulunjoki_ river, heavily laden with their wares, take two or three days, and have to come up again empty; this is the heaviest and most tiring part of the whole performance to the boatmen, and cannot be accomplished under two or three weeks. they sometimes bring back five hundred or six hundred pounds of salt or flour, for although they take down twenty-five or thirty times as much as this in weight, they cannot manage more on the return journey, when, to lighten the boat as much as possible, they even take off the top planks or bulwarks and leave them behind at _uleåborg_, putting new bulwarks a foot broad made of half-inch plank before the next downward voyage. a tar-boat is a very peculiar craft, and, when one sees it for the first time, it seems impossible that anything so fragile can travel over two hundred miles by river, rapid, lake, and cataract. the boats are generally from thirty-five to forty-five feet long, but never more than four feet wide, or they could not be steered between the rocks of the swirling cataracts. they are pointed at both ends like a gondola, but it is not the narrowness and length that strike terror into the heart of a stranger, but rather the thinness of the wood of which they are built. the boat is made of the planks of well-grown trees, which planks, though over a foot wide, are sawn down to three-quarters of an inch thick, so that in the strongest part only three-quarters of an inch divides passengers and crew from the water, that water being full of rocks and swirling whirlpools. four planks a foot wide and three-quarters of an inch thick, as a rule, make the sides of a tar-boat, not nailed, be it understood, but merely _tied_ together with pieces of thin birch twig! holes are bored, the birch threaded through, securely fastened, and then, to make the whole thing water-tight, the seams are well caulked with tar. this simple tying process gives the craft great flexibility, and if she graze a rock, or be buffeted by an extra heavy wave, she bends instead of breaking. from all this it will be inferred the boat is extraordinarily light, or it could never be got home again--but when twenty-four or twenty-eight barrels, each weighing four to five hundred pounds, are in it, the water comes right up to the gunwale, so an extra planking of a foot wide is tied on in the manner aforementioned, to keep the waves out, and that planking is only half an inch thick. therefore the barrels are only divided from the seething water by three-quarters of an inch, and the waves are kept back by even a slighter barrier. it is amazing that such a long fragile craft can survive that torrent of water at all. when the last boats go down in october, ice has already begun to form, and they frequently suffer very much from its sharp edges, for which reason the perils of those late journeys are often hideous. when the tar-barrels reach _kajana_ from the forests they are only worth from twelve to eighteen marks each, and if one considers the labour entailed to get them there, it seems remarkable that any profit can be made out of the trade. very cleverly the heavy tubs are lifted by a crane into the boat, which is just wide enough to take them in twos and twos lengthwise--three or four perhaps being placed on the top of all. the biggest cargo consists of twenty-eight barrels. before the tubs are really shipped they are tested, as wine is tested, to see that the quality is all right, and that they are worth the perilous carriage. so many of these boats ply backwards and forwards during july, august, september, and october, that sometimes as many as a hundred will pass _kajana_ in one day. this gives some idea of the industry and its enormous importance to that vast tract of country. indeed, from , to , barrels find their way down the _uleåborg_ river alone during these months. owing to the courtesy of _herr fabrikor herman renfors_, to whom the governor of the province had kindly given us an introduction, we went a mile and a half up the rapids and through a couple of locks in his private tar-boat, just for the experience. the heat being tropical, we did not start till six p.m., when we found _herr renfors_ waiting at the entrance to the first lock, as arranged, in a real tar-boat, which he was steering himself, for, being an enthusiastic fisherman, he goes out alone for days at a time, and can steer up or down the rapids as well as any pilot. no one who has not seen a rapid can realise the nerve this requires. seats had been roughly put in for us to sit on, otherwise, as a rule, except for the oarsmen's bench and the barrels, these boats are absolutely empty. our friend, the steersman, sat at the bow, and with a sort of oar, held in position by a rope of plaited straw fixed a little on one side, guided the fragile bark. first we had to go into a lock. any one acquainted with a nice wide shallow thames lock may think he knows all about such matters; but in reality he does nothing of the kind. for this finnish lock, and there are two of them close together, is very long, forty-five feet being required for the boat alone, and nearly as much for the rush of water at each end to prevent that single boat being swamped. as the rise of water is over twenty feet, the lock is some forty feet deep and only six or seven feet wide. the walls are tarred black, and, although the sun blazed outside, when we entered this long narrow vault the air struck chill and cold, and it was so dark and weird that it seemed like going into an underground cellar, or an elongated coffin. as those massive wooden doors closed behind us, we felt as though we were about to be buried alive in a well, or were enacting some gruesome scene fitted for dante's wondrous pen when dipped in ink of horror. the gates slammed. the chains grated. the two oarsmen steadied the boat by means of poles which they held against the sides of those dark walls, the steersman with another pole kept her off the newly shut massive wooden door--and then--oh! we gasped, as a volume of water over ten feet descended a little in front of us, absolutely soaking the oarsmen, and showering spray over every one. it was a wonderful sensation; we were walled in, we were deep in the lock, and as the water poured down in two falls, for there was a platform half way to break its tremendous force, our boat bobbed up and down like a cockle-shell. we felt an upset meant death, for no one could possibly have climbed up those steep black walls, still less swum or even kept his head above such volumes of water. up, up, up, we went until we had risen over twenty feet, which dwindled to nothing when the door opened at the end of the waterfall and we glided out into the world of sunshine, to see our friend the old castle before us again, the pine-trees on the banks, and the funny little wooden town on our right. verily a transformation scene--a return to life and light and air, after water and darkness. before us was a small rapid, and, having rowed up under the lee of the land, it was perfectly marvellous to see how the boat was suddenly turned right across the bubbling water, and steered like a gliding eel in and out of waves and spray to the other side, which we reached by means of hard pulling, without losing more than thirty or forty feet by the strong current. here came another lock, and several minutes were again spent in rising another twenty feet, before we were at a level to continue our course. then came a stretch which could be rowed, although, of course, the stream was always against us; but two stalwart finns sitting side by side pulled well, and on we sped until the next rapid was reached, when out we all had to bundle, and the fragile craft had to be towed, as the strength of the water made it impossible to row against it. there was a path of rocky boulders, uneven and somewhat primitive, such a towing path being always found beside the rapids, as the oarsmen have to get out and tow at all such places. therefore, when returning home from _uleåborg_, the sailors have to row either against the stream (one long tract, however, being across a lake where it is possible to sail), or else they have to walk and pull. no wonder it takes them three weeks to make the voyage. having landed us, the two oarsmen pulled with a rope, but as the boat would have been torn to pieces on the rocks beside the bubbling water, the steersman had to keep her off by means of a long pole; and hard work he evidently found it, bending the whole weight of his body in the process, straining every nerve at times. it is terrific exertion to get even such a light thing as a tar-boat over such places, and in a mile and a half we had to get out four times as well as pass through the two locks (there are but four on the whole river), and we only reached the pilot station after working a whole hour and a half, which gave us a good idea of the weariness of toiling up stream, and the wonders of coming down, for we retraced the same route in exactly fourteen minutes. we crossed the famous rapid, described in _kalevala_ as the scene where one of the heroes went swirling round and round; we watched women steering with marvellous agility and skill, and there, on the bank, we saw a stalwart finn, with an artistic pink shirt, awaiting our arrival to pilot us down again, our host preferring to employ a pilot for the descent when he had any one on board besides himself. the pilot was a splendidly made young fellow of twenty-four; a very picture, with his tan trousers, and long brown leather boots doubled back under the knee like a brigand, but ready to pull up to the thigh when necessary. on his felt cap he wore a silver badge with the letters l.m. clearly stamped. "what do they mean?" we asked. "l.m. is an abbreviation for _laskumies_ or pilot--it means that he is a certified pilot for this stream," replied _herr renfors_, "and as there are ladies here i am going to get him to take the boat down--ladies are such a responsibility," he laughed, "i dare not undertake the task." we soon entered into conversation with this picturesque finn, and found his father was also a _laskumies_, and that as a boy he always went with him, steering the boat down when he was fourteen, although he did not get his badge till he was eighteen years of age. as soon as he got it he married, and now had two children. these pilots only receive their badges after careful examination from the government, and, the pay being good, and the position considered a post of honour, they are eagerly-sought-for appointments. "how wildly exciting it is," we exclaimed, as we whirled round corners, waves dashing into our boat only to be baled out with a sort of wooden spoon. "i make this little journey sometimes twenty times in a day," he replied; "but i can't say i find it very entertaining." sometimes we simply gasped--especially when nearing _kajana_, and we knew we had to go under the bridge before us, while the youth was steering apparently straight for the rocks on the shore. destruction seemed imminent, the water was tearing along under the bridge at an awful rate, but he still steered on for the rocks; we held our breath--till, at the eleventh and three-quarter hour, so to speak, the pink-shirted finn quietly twisted his steering pole, and under the bridge we shot and out at the other side quite safely. we breathed again! pilots are only necessary for the rapids, and they receive one mark for the shorter and two marks for the longer stretches, one of which is thirteen miles in length, so that a boat between _kajana_ and _uleåborg_ has to pay ten marks for its pilots, which they are bound by law to carry. on some of the stretches there are as many as twenty-four pilots to each rapid. our experience of a tar-boat but whetted our appetite, and we looked forward, all pleasurable anticipation, to our descent to the coast. the next morning at seven a.m. we left _kajana_ in a very small steamboat to cross the great _oulujärvi_ lake, and arrived about twelve at _waala_, where our own tar-boat was awaiting us. we were struck, as we passed over the lake, to see a veritable flower-garden upon the surface of the water. the lake is so wide that at times we quite lost sight of one shore; yet these small flowers, something like primroses, only white, with their floating roots, were everywhere, looking almost like snow upon the water! we passed boats sailing down with tar, the wind being with them, and we passed empty boats rowing up. they never go home the entire way under three weeks, and even coming down the rapids, if the wind is against them, they may take several days to reach _uleåborg_. whereas, with wind to help them across the lake, they can go down laden in a little over two days all the way from russia. once started on the downward route they seldom rest until their journey is completed, for it is important for each boat to do three voyages from russia during the season, if possible, and more, of course, from shorter distances. we were horrified to find that a large number of women and children were employed on the water. rowing or towing such heavy boats is a serious matter; and to see a couple of women, or a woman and a child, doing the work, the husband, brother, or other male relative steering where no professional pilot is necessary, made us feel sick at heart. such work is not fit for them, and in the case of young girls and boys must surely be most injurious. when returning home the poor creatures often pull their boat out of the water and, turning her on one side, spend the night under her sheltering cover. the tar-boats ply a dangerous trade; but our own experiences must be described in another chapter. chapter xviii descending the rapids in our case it took twenty-nine hours without sleep to descend the rapids, for we left _kajana_ at seven a.m. on thursday morning, and only reached _uleåborg_ at mid-day on friday. the journey is perfectly wonderful, but should only be undertaken by people blessed with strong nerves and possessed of iron constitutions. from _kajana_ to _uleåborg_ one travels down the splendid _oulu_ river and across the _oulujärvi_ lake, joining the river again on the other side of _waala_. it was indeed an experience, in more ways than one. the first hours we spent in a small steamer, too small to carry a restaurant, so, let it be understood at once, provisions must be taken for the whole journey, unless the traveller wishes starvation to be added to his other hardships. the _oulujärvi_ lake is a terror to the tar-boats, for it is one of the largest lakes in finland, and when there is a storm the fragile tar-boat is forced to hug the land for safety, or draw up altogether and lie-to until the storm has spent itself. many of these small craft have been taken unawares when out in the middle of the lake, and come to signal grief accordingly. then again, in times of dead calm, the heavily-laden boat does not even have the benefit of the quickly-running water to bear her on her way, and the three occupants of the vessel have to row the entire distance, for the steersman, no longer requiring to guide her with his enormous pole, ships it and rows at the side with one oar,--with which at the same time he guides. these steering poles are really remarkable; they are about twelve or fifteen feet long, and are simply a solid trunk of a pine tree as wide as a man's hand can grasp at the thinnest end, broadening out, and trimmed in such a way that they form a kind of flat solid paddle at the other end. the weight of these poles is overpowering, even when slipped through the ring of plaited tree branches which keeps them in place, and makes them easier to hold securely. when the cataracts are reached, even these strong poles shiver with the force of the water, and the steersman has all his work to do to combat the rushing waters; his whole bodily weight must be brought to bear in order to fight those waves and steer his craft safely through them. every muscle is strained to meet the power of those swirling waters. no praise we can give is too high for the skill of the pilot of the rapids, no admiration too great, for it is to that and his physical strength, to his power and calmness, to his dexterity and boundless knowledge of hidden dangers and unexpected horrors, that the safety of our lives is due, and, when we peeped occasionally at our steersman as we flew over the great rapid, where for over an hour every nerve, every fibre of his body was strung to agonising pitch, we looked and wondered. his eyes were fixed steadfastly before him, and as he flung all the weight of his body on to his pole, the whole boat trembled, but in a second obeyed his bidding and twisted whither he wished. second, did we say? half-second, quarter-second, would be more accurate, for the bow of the boat was guided at giddy speed to within a few feet of a rock, and just as she was about to touch, twisted off again for us to ride over some crested wave, or fly down some channel which just cleared the death-trap. by such means we zig-zagged from side to side of the river, which at the cataracts is generally nearly a quarter of a mile broad, and in the calmer stretches widens out to half a mile and more. speaking of pilots and their wondrous skill, in the autumn of , by imperial decrees, the finnish pilot department was transferred to the russian ministry of marine. so marvellous, so dexterous has been the work of the finnish pilots for generations of inherited knowledge, that an englishman can but quake at the advisability of such a change. finland was so indignant that half the pilots stationed on the coast and the islands--about five hundred men--resigned _en bloc_. the famous pilot school at _helsingfors_ no longer exists. these pilots used to mark out the ship routes every spring so cleverly that shipwrecks were rare; but in the summer of the new russian staff made such endless mistakes and omitted so many risky channels that a great many disasters followed on the coast, though not serious ones. luckily, the regular finnish passenger steamers have not suffered, as they all carry their own pilots. strategical considerations have been officially adduced for the russification of the finnish pilot service; but the wisdom of this strategy may be open to doubt. in time of war the passages nearer the coast will naturally be of the greatest strategic importance, and it would seem highly unsafe to confide the navigation of war-vessels to the new caspian pilots, who cannot possibly in a few years acquire an intimate knowledge of these extremely difficult waters. the new measure dispenses with the services of those men who, born and bred on the spot, and having the advantage of generations of traditional knowledge, can alone with safety do pilot service, especially in time of war, when guiding beacons and rock-marking poles and buoys are removed, and there is nothing to guide the navigator except that knowledge which has become second nature to the pilot trained to do service in his own home waters. but we are digressing. we arrived at _waala_--a cluster of small houses--about . , and, landing from our little steamer, found that although our tar-boat had been ordered and everything was ready owing to the kindness of the inspector of the district, who himself came to see us off, we could not get really under way before one o'clock. all the luggage had to be packed into the boat,--not much luggage, be it said, for, beyond the reach of the railways, one bag or suit-case per person is all that is possible (less is preferable), as that can go into one of the little _kärra_ (carts), or can be carried by a peasant when necessary. travelling through the interior and northern parts of finland is roughing it indeed, and when it comes to being away from the post-stations (where carriages and horses are procurable, and generally fairly good), and sleeping in a real peasant's house, then one realises what discomfort means, and for cleanliness prefers to sit on a hard wooden chair all night for safety's sake. at last we were, all six (for this number composed our party), seated, some on gladstones, some on an enormous rug case, some on nothing, or something equally uncomfortable, but all of us as low down as possible, such being the inspector's orders, as our weight steadied the boat, and, being below the water's level, kept us from getting wet from the spray, although we found, by experience, it did not prevent our shipping whole seas, and getting thoroughly soaked. "the wind is against you," remarked the inspector, "which is a pity, as it will occupy much longer time, and you will get more wet, but by three a.m. (fourteen hours) you ought to reach _muhos_, where you can snatch a few hours' sleep before going on in the little steamer that will take you down the last stretch of the river to _uleåborg_." it was bad enough, in theory, to sit fourteen hours within the cramped precincts of a tar-boat with one's knees up to one's chin, like an eastern mummy, but it was nothing to what in practice we really endured. however, we luckily cannot foresee the future, and with light hearts, under a blazing sun, we started, a man at the stern to steer, a woman and a boy in the bow to row, and ourselves and our goods securely stowed away--packed almost as closely as herrings in a barrel. directly after leaving _waala_, within a few minutes in fact, we came to the _niska koski_ rapid. six miles at flying speed; six miles tearing over huge waves at break-neck pace; six miles with a new experience every second; six miles feeling that every turn, every moment must be our last. no one could dream of the excitements of speeding six miles in such a long fragile craft, in which we crouched so low our faces were almost level with the seething surface of the rapid. turning here and twisting there between rocks or piled-up walls of stone, absolutely seeing and feeling the drop of the water, as one bounded over a fall--such an experience cannot be described. as those massive waves struck the boat, and threw volumes of water into our laps, we felt inclined to shriek at the speed at which we were flying. wildly we were tearing past the banks, when, lo!--what was that? a broken tar-boat; a mere scattered mass of wooden beams, which only a few hours before had been a boat like our own. in spite of the marvellous dexterity of the pilots, accidents happen sometimes; and that very morning, the wind being strongly against the boats descending, a steersman venturing a little too near a hidden rock, his frail craft was instantly shattered to pieces. the tar-barrels, bubbling over the water like indian corn over a fire, were picked up many miles below; but, as the accident happened near the water's edge, the crew were luckily saved. that journey was a marvellous experience; one of the most exciting and interesting of the writer's life; not only did it represent a wonderful force of nature, but an example of what skill and a cool head can do; for what man without both could steer a boat through such rapids--such cataracts? those rapids at montreal seemed far less imposing to me afterwards. at times the waves looked as if they were really returning upon us, yet in reality we were going with the stream, but the rocks below made them curl back again. along the stream several crews were toiling and straining at their towing ropes to get their empty boats to _kajana_. oh, what work in that heat! no wonder they all dreaded that return journey. toiling along the bank were the wretched men and women making their way back towards russia. the strangely uneven stone wall along which they pulled their tar-boat looked as if it would cut their poor bare feet to pieces. two generally tugged at the rope, a third keeping the boat off the wall by means of a long pole; and for a fortnight or three weeks they tugged and pulled their empty boat, or in calmer stretches sailed or rowed back the route along which we were now flying at such lightning speed. then came two hours of calm rowing along a beautiful stretch of river, where rocks and pine-trees rose straight from the water's edge, and queer little gray houses denoted peasants' homesteads, peeping out among the almost yellow rye-fields, or the newly gathered hay crops. small black and white curly sheep gambolled in the meadows--those very sheep whose coats are so famous as _kajana lambs_, rivalling even russian astrakhan. imagine a fall of two hundred feet of water in a long, thin, fragile boat; yet such is possible at _pyhäkoski_, another of the rapids, during a stretch of cataract about thirteen miles long--as an average, these wondrous falls are about a quarter of a mile broad, sometimes more, sometimes less. they are indeed most truly marvellous. it was a perfect evening as we neared _pyhäkoski_. the wind had fallen, and when, after passing a rapid, we drew up by the bank to enjoy our evening meal, the sun at . was just beginning its long set. we had left _waala_ at . , and been travelling in the boat cramped by the position all the time, so were beginning to feel the pleasant pangs of hunger. with a pine wood behind us, where bilberries, just ripening among the ferns, covered the ground, we six friends--four finlanders and two english--made a very happy party. oh, the joy of stretching our limbs and standing erect once more. we cooked our tea by the aid of a spirit-lamp, ate hard-boiled eggs and some most delicious cold trout, devoured whole loaves of white bread and butter, and were feeling as happy as possible--when suddenly the glorious golden orb shining through the skies of evening, was reflected in flaming colour nearer home, for, lo! the lamp in the tea-basket exploded with a terrific bang and a tongue of flame which brought us all to our feet in an instant. here was a calamity to occur on such a dry night, in a long rainless summer, and in a pine forest, too, where if the trees once ignited, flames might spread for miles and miles, causing incalculable damage. we all knew the danger, and each prepared to assist in putting out the fire. grandpapa, with the agility of a cat, seized the burning basket and threw it and its contents bodily into the river--great was the frizzle as it touched the water, and greater the noise as plates and spoons clattered into the stream. they were of little value in comparison to the prevention of a forest fire. poor man, he was wet to his knees standing in the water, and he looked almost as if he had been taking a mud bath by the time he succeeded in rescuing what was possible of our crockery and plate. but, undoubtedly, he prevented much serious damage of valuable property by his prompt action. the remainder of our meal was lost, and our delightful basket, that had travelled in many lands, destroyed. it had never failed before--but we afterwards unravelled the mystery. the _apothek_, whom we asked to supply us with some methylated spirit, not understanding our request, had substituted something which did not suit the lamp. "all's well that ends well," however, so we will say no more about his mistake, save that we lost our second cup of tea, and went hungry to bed. never, never did any one behold more wonderful reflections than were to be seen that night on the _uleå_ river. as the empty boats passed up a quiet reach sufficiently shallow to permit of punting, the reflections of the coloured shirts and poles, of the old brown boats and the cheery faces on board, were as distinct in the water as the things themselves. every blade of grass found its double in that mirror-like stream, every rock appeared darker and larger below than it did above the water; but our admiration was distracted by mosquitoes,--when we drew up at a small _torp_ to take up a fresh pilot, who was to steer us safely over the famous _pyhäkoski_ rapids. by this time it was . on an august night, and the sun just above the pine tops, which seemed striving to soar high enough to warm themselves in its glorious rich colourings, and we feared it might be too late, and the mist too dense, to attempt such a dangerous passage. half a dozen pilots assembled on the bank--their day's work being over--declared it was perfectly safe, as safe at least as it ever can be, therefore, after shipping our man, away we rowed--the river having broadened again to three-quarters of a mile, so that it looked like a lake. a small child offered us a little wooden tub of luscious yellow berries, _suomuurain_ (finnish), _hjortron_ (swedish), for a mark--the same would have cost about eight marks at _helsingfors_--which we gladly bought and ate as we drifted along. those delicious northern delicacies, with a taste of the pine-tree, greatly refreshed us. we had made up our minds early in the day, that as we could not take more than four or five hours' rest, to sleep on the bank, and make a large fire to keep away the mosquitoes. the weather was all that could be wished; indeed, the heat of the day had been so great we had all sat with white pocket-handkerchiefs hanging from under our hats and down our necks to keep off the blazing sun, no parasols being possible when correct steering meant life or death. in fact, we had decided to manage the best sort of "camp out" we could with a coat each and a couple of scotch plaid rugs among us all. the prospect seemed more pleasant than a one or two-roomed _torp_ shared with the _torppari's_ family; for we had suffered so much in strange beds already, and had woefully regretted many times not having brought hammocks, which we might have slung out of doors on those splendid june and july nights, and slept in peace under the daylight canopy of heaven. accordingly, a camp on the bank had been voted and passed by unanimous acclamation. no artist's brush could reproduce such a scene. in the foreground a roaring seething mass of water denoted strength and power, beyond lay a strange hazy mist, like a soft gauze film, rising in the sudden chill of evening from the warmed water, and the whole landscape was rendered more weird and unreal in places by the wild white spray which ascended, as the waves lapped some hidden or visible rock lying right across our course. farther on, the river was bordered by pine and fir-trees, through the stems of which the departing sun shone, glinting here and there upon the bark; the warm shades of the sky dappled with red and yellow, painted by a mighty hand, were well in keeping with the "holy stream," as this rapid is called by the peasants living along its shores. a mystic scene of wondrous beauty; more and more the vapours rose, until a great soft barrier seemed erected before us, almost as high as the trees; dense at their roots, tapering away to indistinctness at their tops, where the sunset glow lay warm and bright upon their prickly branches. it reminded one of glorious evenings in switzerland, where snow-clad peaks soar above the clouds, their majestic heads rising as it were from nothingness. that night on the _uleå_ river, this strong, strange, misty fog was very remarkable--such a contrast to the intense heat of the day, so great a contrast to the marvellous clearness which had preceded it, so mystic after the photographic distinctness of a few hours before. a shriek from our steersman, and we found we were flying madly towards a sort of wooden pier; we held our breath, it seemed so close. in the mist we were almost upon it before we saw our danger; but when the pilot shouted, the oarsmen instantly shipped. even when going through the rapids it should be explained that two men in the bows keep rowing continuously to help to steady the boat; but on the occasion in question, just when the agony point was reached, they lifted their oars, and we swung round a corner--not to sudden death as we fully expected, but into a comparatively calm stretch of water; where, lo! we found before us a white bank. it was vapour, mist, fog, what you will; but a cold evening, after a day of intense heat, had clothed the river in thick white clouds, impenetrable to the sight--cold, clammy, terrifying to a stranger. "it is impossible," exclaimed the oarsman to our finnish-speaking friends; "i thought i could get you to _muhos_ to-night, but until that fog lifts we can go no farther, it is not safe. i can do no more. it would mean death." here was a prospect. we had been eleven hours in the boat, for it was now midnight. we had been grilled all day and burnt with the heat, and now we were perished with wet from the wash of the waves, and cold from the damp chill air. we could not lie on the ground--no fire would ignite amid such soaking grass; what was to become of us we did not know. we wanted experiences, and we had got them, more than we bargained for. who could have imagined such a day would turn to such a night? who indeed! we all looked at each other, we all sighed. one suggested sitting as we were all bolt upright, with the boat moored to some bank--others thought a walk might prove an agreeable change--the wisest held their tongues, thought much, and said little. we were in the middle of the stream, when, without a word of explanation, our steersman suddenly turned the bow of our frail bark right across the water, and with one rush her nose hit the bank; our speed was so great that we were all shaken from our seats, as the boat bounded off again, but the pilot was an old experienced hand, and, by some wondrous gymnastic feat, he got her side sufficiently near the bank for our boy, with a rope in his hand, to spring upon _terra firma_ and hold us fast, without shattering our bark completely to pieces with the force of our sudden arrival. "is this fog usual?" we asked the pilot. "no, very unusual, only after such intense heat as we have had to-day. if i had not landed you at this spot and now, another yard would have made doing so impossible, for this is the top of the _pyhäkoski_ rapid, the most dangerous of all, and it is thirteen miles long." what a plight! hungry, tired, miserable, cold, to be suddenly turned, whether we wished it or not, out of our only refuge and home. "close by here," he continued, "is a peasant's house--you must go there for some hours." we looked; but the fog was so thick we could see nothing, therefore, without a word of remonstrance, we followed our pilot, plodding through grass soaked in moisture which reached to our knees, feeling very chilled, wet, and weary, but all trying to keep stout hearts and turn cheery faces to misfortune. yes, there--as if sent as a blessing from heaven--we saw a little house peeping through the fog. we went to the door; we knocked, we knocked again. no answer. we shook the door; it was locked. we called; no one replied. we walked round the house and tried the windows--all closed, securely closed. we knocked and called louder than before. still no answer. what disappointment! the house was deserted. on the very eve of shelter we were baffled. was it not enough to fill our hearts with despair? we could not go back, for we had nowhere to go; we could not sit on the bank, for that fog brooded evil. some one suggested bursting open the door, for shelter we must have, and began rattling away with that purpose, when, lo! a voice, an awful voice called "_hulloa!_" "it is haunted," exclaimed some one; "it is a ghost, or a spirit or something. do let us go away--what a horrible place." "it is a phantom house," cried another, "this is not real--come, come--come away." but the voice again called "_hulloa!_" the sound seemed nearer, and looking round we saw a white apparition standing in a darkened doorway on the other side of the garden, a figure clad in white approached through the mist; it was very ghostly. was it hallucination, the result of exhausted minds and bodies, weak from want of food, and perished with wet and cold, or was it--yes, it _was_--a man. we could have hugged that delightful finn, our joy was so great at his appearance, key in hand ready to open the door. he did so; a delicious hot air rushed upon us--it seemed like entering a turkish bath; but when a second door was opened the heat became even more intense, for the kitchen fire was still alight, and, as if sent as an extra blessing from above, the coffee-pot was actually on the hob, filled and ready for the peasants' early morning meal. could anything be more providential--warmth and succour--food, beds, and comfort! like savages we rushed upon the coffee-pot, blew the dying embers into flame, took off our soaking shoes and stockings and placed them beside the oven, pattering barefoot over the boards; we boiled milk, which was standing near, and drank the warming, soothing beverage. all this took time, and, while the others worked, the writer made a hurried sketch by the daylight of midnight at the "haven of refuge," as we christened our new abode. the kitchen, or general living-room, was, typically finnish. the large oven stood on one side furnished with the usual stone stairs, up which the family clamber in the winter months, in order that they may sleep on the top of the fireplace, and thus secure warmth during the night. on the other side we noticed a hand-loom with linen in it, which the good housewife was weaving for her family. before it was a wooden tub, wherein flour for making brown bread was standing ready to be mixed on the morrow; in front of it was a large wooden mortar, cut out of a solid tree trunk. the light was dim, for it was midnight, and, although perfectly clear outside, the windows of the little gray house were so few and so small that but little light could gain admittance. this but added to the weirdness of the scene. it all seemed unreal--the dim glow from the spluttering wood, freshly put on, the beautiful shining copper coffee-pot, the dark obscurity on the top of the oven. the low ceiling with its massive wooden beams, the table spread for the early breakfast--or maybe the remnants of the evening meal--with a beer-hen full of _kalja_, a pot, rudely carved, filled with _piimää_ or soured milk, and the salted fish so loved by the peasantry--there all the necessaries and luxuries of finnish humble life were well in evidence. the atmosphere was somewhat oppressive, for in those homesteads the windows are never opened from year's end to year's end--indeed, most of them won't open at all. in a corner hung a _kantele_, the instrument to which the finns sing their famous songs as described. this romantic chamber, with its picturesque peasant occupants and its artistic effect, merely wanted the addition of the music of finland to complete its charm, and the farmer most kindly offered to play it for us. in his white corduroy trousers, his coarse white shirt--the buttons of which were unfastened at the throat--and the collar loosely turned back, showing a bronzed chest, he looked like an operatic hero, the while he sat before his instrument and sang some of those wondrous songs dear to the heart of every finn. he could hardly have been worthy of his land had he failed to be musical, born and bred in a veritable garden of song and sentiment, and the romance of our midnight arrival seemed to kindle all the imagination in this man's nature. while he played the _kantele_, and the pilot made coffee, the old wife was busying herself in preparing for our meal, and we were much amused at her producing a key and opening the door of a dear old bureau, from which she unearthed some wonderful china mugs, each of which was tied up in a separate pocket-handkerchief. they had various strange pictures upon them, representing scenes in america, and it turned out that they had been brought home as a gift to his parents by a son who had settled in the far west. we were indeed amazed when we were each handed a real silver spoon--not tin or electro--but real silver, and very quaint they were too, for the bowls were much bigger than the short handles themselves. these luxuries were in keeping with the beautiful linen on the beds, made by the old woman, and the wonderful white curtains in front of the windows, also woven by the housewife, who had likewise crocheted the lace that bordered them. they had not those things because they were rich; for, on the contrary, they were poor. such are the ordinary finnish farmers' possessions; however small the homestead, linen and window curtains are generally to be found. so many comforts, coupled with the bare simplicity of the boards, the long benches for seats, and hard wooden chairs, did not lead us to expect the comic tragedy to follow. it was one a.m., and we were all feeling quite merry again, after our warm coffee and milk, as we spread one of the rugs on the floor of the kitchen for the gentlemen--the boatmen lying on the boards--and carried our larger rug into the second room for the ladies, rolling our cloaks up into pillows, for the heat from the oven was so great that we did not want them. we lay down in our steaming clothes, which we dare not take off, to snatch a few hours' sleep, until the fog should kindly lift and enable us to get a couple of hours farther on our way to _muhos_, from which place the little "cataract steamer" was to start at seven a.m. for _uleåborg_. "good-night--not a word," the last caution added because every one wanted to say how merciful it was that we had found such delightful shelter, warmth, and even food. obediently we settled down and prepared to enjoy our much-needed rest. a quarter of an hour passed; first one turned uneasily, and then another; the first one sighed, and then the second; first one spoke, and then another; first one rose and went to the window, and then another. could it be? no--yes--no! oh the horror of it! the place was alive! only a quarter of an hour, yet we were bitten nearly to death, for we had made the personal acquaintance of a species of pest too horrible to name. it really was too much, we felt almost inclined to cry, the situation was so terrible. we could not go outside, for malaria and ague seemed imminent; we could not go on in our boat, for the rapids were dangerous in fog, death-traps in fact--what, oh, what were we to do? we heard movements in the kitchen. we called. the answer said "come in, certainly," and we entered to find our men's hair literally standing on end as they stood, rug in hand, scanning the floor, over which a perfect zoological garden was promenading as coolly as flies on a hot summer's day over a kitchen ceiling--and we had no shoes or stockings on. there were small red animals creeping sideways, there were little brown animals hopping, there were huge fat round beasts whose death left an unpleasant odour, there were crawling gray creatures, and every one was an enormous specimen of its kind, and--yes, 'tis true--they were there in millions. it seems loathsome to write, but it was worse to see and feel, and one must write it, for the would-be traveller among the peasant homes of finland ought to know what he may expect. enchanting as the country is, interesting and hospitable as are its peasantry, the finns must learn how to deal with such a curse, or no one will dare to enter any dwelling, until the tourist club opens shelters everywhere and supplies iron beds and good mattresses, and a capable woman to look after them all and keep them clean. even the enthusiastic fisherman could not stand such bedfellows. six wooden chairs were placed in two rows in the small porch, and there in the cold wet early morning air we sat as quietly as circumstances would permit, for leaving the heated rooms did not mean leaving our tormentors. we drew our coats round our shivering forms, we blew upon our chilled fingers to get up the circulation, we stared out at blank gray fog thick with malaria and ague. now came a revelation. the occupants of this house never slept in it during the hot weather. why? simply because they could not. even they themselves could not stand the vermin, and therefore, like many other peasants of finland, they lie in the hayloft in the summer months for preference, and that was where our friend had come from to give us help and succour, as we fondly believed, when he appeared like a benevolent apparition in that darkened door-way. during all our horrors the farmer slept. "we must not tell the people of the house what has happened," said our good-hearted student; "they would be most awfully offended, and there is no knowing what they might do with defenceless travellers in such an out-of-the-way spot." "but we must pay them," i observed. "of course," agreed grandpapa, "but we need not tell them that we have sat up on these chairs surrounded by a carpet of hay all night." "but they will know," i ventured to remark. "we cannot clear away all this hay even if we move the chairs." "i have it," said the student, after a long pause, during which we had all sought an excuse to enable us to depart without hurting the farmer's feelings, "i will tell them that we sat up here because the ladies wanted to see the sunrise." "just so," we all assented, gazing abstractedly towards the _west_ at the black wall of the opposite barn, which totally obstructed all view of any kind, even if the fog had not made a sunrise an absolutely ridiculous suggestion. but we were all so weak and worn out that if any one had suggested the _sunset_ at three in the morning, we would still have said, "just so." luckily, one forgets the disagreeables of life unless they have an amusing side as this had. pleasant memories linger. first one of us got up and went to see if there was the slightest chance of the mist clearing--another peeped at a little baby calf standing alone in a shed, where it nearly had a fit with fright at the unexpected sight of visitors--another walked round the house to see if the mist was clearing on the opposite side, and then all sat down dejectedly in a row again on those hard wooden seats. at last, when it was really time to leave, with an effort of will we made up our mind to go back to the bedroom to fetch an umbrella and a hat which had been left behind. it was lighter now, and as we stooped to pick up the umbrella, that had fallen upon the ground, we started back in horror, for a perfect colony of every conceivably sized and shaped crawling beast was walking over the floor. gathering up our skirts we flew with winged feet from that haunted chamber, but not before we had seized upon the hat, which had lain upon the table, and out of which hopped and crawled enormous--well--we left that house as noiselessly as we had come, left it surrounded in fog, without waking a soul, after putting the money upon the table in payment for our night's lodging. we left, glad to shake its dust and its _etceteras_ from our feet; but it will ever remain in our minds as a bad dream, a dream of another world, the world of insect land, into the mysteries of which we never wish to peep again. the most wonderful bit of our journey was yet to come. the waves were too short and jumpy for the waves of the sea, and the boat too fragile for a sea boat, yet we did not even gasp now, we had got so accustomed to drenchings, and our nerves were steadier, if over-wrought, as we danced and plunged over these waters. for some four or five miles the _pyhäkoski_ rapid is narrower than those higher up the river, and sheer rocks rise straight from the water's edge and pine-trees skirt these on either side, literally growing out of the boulders without any apparent roots. it is a grand and wonderful passage waterway: and one the return boats cannot manage at all, there being no towing path, so that the oarsmen have to put their boats on carts and drive them across the land. this is not an easy job, because the length and fragility of the boats mean risk of breaking their backs. great care is therefore required. the mist disappeared as the sun rose, and the birds began to sing gaily as we skipped and jumped over the seething waters, till at last we saw before us a solid wall of high steep rock, rising perpendicularly seventy or eighty feet from the water. our steersman made straight for its hard cold base, round which whirled a roaring cataract. surely this time death stared us in the face. had he gone to sleep or lost his senses, or was he paralysed with fatigue? on, on, on we went; we glanced round anxiously to see what had happened to the man. he sat motionless, his eyes staring wildly before him, looking hardly human. our hearts seemed positively to stand still as the boat's bow got within eight or nine feet of that massive wall, going straight for it, at a pace no one could believe who has not visited the spot and felt the horror of it. we seemed on the very brink of eternity, gazing into the unknown, and as the drowning man reviews his whole life in a second, we in like manner saw our past, and peered into the future. our paralysing fear was fleeting; another moment and our boat's head flew to the left, our craft quivered all over, and then head first down the rapid she plunged into the swirling pool, with a feeling as if she were going up on the other side of the dancing waves. the danger was past, and our steersman's recently grim face assumed a look of happy content. this rock, be it explained, is the most dangerous point between russia and the gulf of bothnia; many and many a tar-boat has been shattered and lives lost at this spot, as it stands at a corner of a sharp turn of the cataract, and a regular whirlpool is always seething at its base--the water forming a fall of two or three feet--swirling round and going up again like a sort of wave. there is only one possible way to pass in safety, and that is to take the boat right up to the rock and turn, when almost too late, with such dexterity that the boat descends on the falling wave at so wild a pace that she crosses the whirlpool too quickly to be sucked under, and then bounds away safely on the opposite breaker. it was horrible--but it was grand. we sat still and silent. chapter xix salmon--uleÅborg to say we were tired hardly describes the situation. we were absolutely exhausted. so exhausted, in fact, were we, after our late experiences, that when--twenty-eight hours after leaving _kajana_, twenty-eight hours of constant strain--we got into the little steamer at _muhos_ which was to convey us the last part of our journey to _uleåborg_, we were literally worn out. this steamer plied to and fro on a wide stretch of the famous _uleå_ river, where the stream was quick and yet not a cataract. it was only a little vessel, without a cabin of any kind, and with hard uninviting wooden benches running along its stern end for the accommodation of passengers. we went on board before she started, and, feeling that we at last had a chance to rest, lay down all six speechless on the floor or the benches of the little boat, our heads supported merely by a rug or a travelling bag, and apparently fell asleep at once, for when we woke it was to find that a dozen peasants had assembled on board, all of whom were eagerly discussing us and staring at the sight of six exhausted strangers, whom report told them had descended the famous rapids the previous night with considerable danger. even that short sleep refreshed us somewhat, and, but for the discomforts we had brought away with us from the hideous little gray house, we might have dreamed on for hours. oh, how glad we felt as our little droschkies drew up in front of the grand-looking stone hotel at _uleåborg_, which proved as uncomfortable inside as it was magnificent in appearance outside. having secured our rooms, out we all sailed with our little bundles of clean clothes packed under our arms, and as quickly as possible made our way to the public bath-houses, feeling that it would require all the bath-women in finland to make us clean again. if ever self-control in this world had been required, it had been called upon when we endeavoured, during the last hours of that horrible journey, to sit still and smile, and try and look comfortable. lapland! when we had talked of lapland, kind friends had looked surprised, and in subdued tones and hushed whispers asked us if we knew what lapland in the summer meant? "there are many inhabitants in a lap's hut," they said, "and although in the winter such things are kept in subjection by the cold, we should never dream of crossing over the border into lapland in the summer time." we had laughed their fears to scorn, and remained determined to pursue our way towards the tundras and the land of the samoyads, but our friends were right and we were wrong. now, after our recent experiences, we decided, with one accord, that wild horses and millions of golden pounds could not drag us through lapland in summer, knowing the sort of horrors we should have to encounter, and which we had already endured to such an extent that we felt degraded, mentally, morally, and physically. a mosquito bite is perhaps the most hurtful of all. there is poison in it, and that means pain; but these other things, although not so harmful, are so loathsomely filthy that one feels ashamed to be one's self, and to hate one's own very existence. surely there can be no inhabited house duty in finland, or the state would indeed be rich. the _uleåborg_ salmon is among the most famous in the world. seeing the fish caught is very interesting, especially when the _take_ happens to be about two hundred. the _uleå_ river is wide, and for a hundred or more miles up its course are the famous rapids, which we had been fortunate enough to descend alive, as described in the last chapter. how the salmon manage to swim against such a force of water must ever remain a marvel; but they do, and the fishing near _waala_ and various other stretches is excellent. in the winter months all but the waterfalls--and even some of them--are frozen solid; it is during these spells of cold that trees are thrown on to the ice to be conveyed, free of charge, to _uleåborg_ on the rushing waters of spring. not dozens, but thousands and tens of thousands of trees are carried by such means down to the coast. this goes on until the th of june, and, therefore, it is not until then that the salmon piers, with their nets, can be put up. accordingly, every year on that day in june sixty men start work at _uleåborg_, and in eight days erect two barriers, about three hundred yards apart, each crossing the entire stream, except for one spot left clear for the boats to pass through. these piers are very simple, and one wonders that such fragile erections can withstand the immense rush. wooden staves are driven into the ground with great difficulty, planks are laid upon them, and then large stones are piled up which keep all steady, the whole thing being bound together by rope made of birch-tree branches. on either side of the barrier are the nets, perhaps a hundred altogether, or twenty-five a side on each of the pier erections. they resemble nets on the thames or anywhere else, except that they are much larger, being intended to catch big fish. we were so fascinated the first time we went to see the salmon caught, that we returned the second day to watch the performance again. we little dreamed that our curiosity in their fishing was exciting equal interest in the _uleåborg_ folk. such, however, was the case, as a notice afterwards appeared in the paper to say that the english women had been twice to look at the salmon-catching, had appeared much interested in what they saw, and had asked many questions. it was a good thing we were not up to any mischief, as the finnish press was so fond of chronicling all our doings. at five o'clock every morning and evening, the nets are lifted, and, as a rule, about a hundred fish are taken each time, although we were fortunate enough to see a catch of nearly twice that number. some of them were little--weighing only two or three pounds--but the average appeared to be about twenty pounds, while one or two of the salmon turned the scale at forty. about a dozen men assembled on the bank, all smoking their everlasting pipes, some who had been lying asleep on the grass being roused from their slumbers, for it was five in the afternoon and time for them to start on their "catch." each wooden pier was to be tackled by half a dozen men in a tar-boat, and, as we were particularly anxious to see this done, i persuaded one of the men to let me join his party, which he only allowed me to do after i had faithfully promised to sit perfectly still. i have described what cockly things these tar-boats are, even filled with their barrels or luggage for ballast, but when perfectly empty, as they always are when they go to fetch the salmon except for the weight of half a dozen men, it is a perfect marvel they do not upset. they are not so long, however, as those used for the rapids, although they are pointed the same at both ends, and the planks are equally wide and thin and as quaintly tied together. off i went to the farthest end of one of these long wooden vessels; the boat was punted to the desired spot, the water apparently not being very deep at that point, and, having brought their craft up sideways against the wooden erection with its nets, the men who had run along the top of the pier--a somewhat dangerous proceeding--drew the net sluices up one by one so that the men in our boat might get at the salmon, while one of her crew, with a long stick and a hook at the end, pulled the net from the bed of the river. it was most awfully exciting; sometimes the meshes would come up with half a dozen fish in them, sometimes disappointment awaited the fishermen, for they got nothing. but what struck me as particularly strange was the fact that half the salmon were dead and half were alive; apparently the dead ones had been in the net some hours (more than twelve was impossible as the nets had been taken up at five a.m.). two or three hours' captivity, however, with such a tremendous weight of water passing over them was enough to knock the life out of any fish. it was a trying moment when a monster salmon, struggling frantically, was pulled half into our boat; but the men cleverly speared them or knocked them on the head with a large mallet, which killed them instantly. ere half an hour elapsed we had emptied all the nets along our pier, and with the boat well filled with beautiful shining fish, we returned to the little landing-stage from which we originally started. as those fish--nearly two hundred in number--lay on that small wooden pier they made a mighty show, and it seemed wonderful to consider that seventy or eighty salmon had been taken at the same spot only a few hours previously, while one hundred and twenty-five miles farther up the river something between fifty and a hundred are netted daily. everything was managed in the most business-like fashion, and with great cleanliness. two men, one on either side of the pier, sat on tubs turned upside down and, each with a knife in his hand, proceeded to clean the fish. they cut its throat, and, with the most marvellous rapidity, cleansed it, the mysteries from the interior being put aside for sale to the poor; then another man came forward and, picking up the fish thus prepared, washed it most carefully in the stream. in a very short space of time the whole catch of salmon were lying cleaned and washed upon the dripping pier. they were then put on trucks or wheelbarrows and rolled up to the ice-house. here all the fish were accurately weighed, the number of kilos. being entered in a ledger, and, after sorting out the large from the small, they were packed into ice in enormous wooden tubs, and within a couple of hours most of them were on their way to st. petersburg. the net fishing ends during the last days of august, when the nets and the piers have to be taken away and packed up carefully for the following summer's use. it was at this salmon ground that my sister and i were much amused at two little incidents. we were sitting on a wooden bench, waiting till all should be ready, when one of the fishermen came and stood before us. he was smoking and his hands were in his pockets as he paused within a few feet of us in a most leisurely manner. he did not do so rudely, although perhaps somewhat awkwardly. as he was evidently a finlander we felt unable to converse with the gentleman, and therefore merely smiled. "you speak english?" he said in that language. "certainly," we replied, somewhat taken aback. "so do i," he rejoined. as he was a poor-looking person, with tattered clothing and a finnish countenance, we were somewhat amazed, and we asked if he were a scotchman, that type more closely resembling the finn than the saxon race. "no," he replied, "i am a finn, but was a sailor for years, and i have been over to america as an emigrant." "you speak english wonderfully well," we answered, really surprised at the purity of the man's accent. "yes," he said, "i was several years in america, where i lost all the money i had made at sea. it took me a long time to collect enough to come home again, but i have just come back, and if not richer, anyway i hope i'm wiser." and he thereupon began to explain the advantages and disadvantages of emigration. imagine in the far north, almost on the borders of lapland, being addressed in our own tongue by a man in rags. we were astonished; yet all over finland one meets with sailors who speak the king's english, and in _uleåborg_ we were struck with the fact on two other occasions--the first being when the man at the helm of a small penny steamer addressed us, and the second when a blue-coated policeman entered into conversation. this shows how universal our clumsy grammarless language is becoming. but still, although english is the language of commerce, and with english one can travel all over the world, better than with any other tongue, the only way really to enjoy and appreciate voyaging in foreign lands is either to speak the language of the people, or, if that cannot be managed, to have some one always at hand capable and willing to translate. knowledge of the language of a country is a golden key to enjoyment. as we left the salmon ground a lady, who had apparently been watching the proceedings from afar, desiring to know more of such strange beings as the "two english ladies," advanced, and, on the trifling pretext of asking if we had lost our way, addressed us in excellent french. we thanked her, and replied we had been for several days in _uleåborg_ and knew our way quite well; but she was not to be baffled--she came to have a talk and she meant to have it--therefore she walked beside us the whole way back to the hotel, giving us little bits of information, though much more inclined to ask us questions than to answer those to which we were really in need of replies. will any one deny that the finlander is inquisitive? perhaps the reader will be inquisitive too when he learns that unintentionally we made a match. nevertheless, the statement is quite true. we, most innocent and unoffending--we, who abhor interference in all matrimonial affairs--we, without design or intent, made a match. it came about in this way. by mere chance i chaperoned a charming and delightful girl down the gulf of bothnia. her coming with us was only decided upon during the last five minutes of our stay, and her clothes were positively repacked on the platform of the station to enable her to do so at all. we had been given introductions to a delightful baron at one of the towns _en route_ to _hangö_, and having arrived at our destination, and not being masters of the language, we asked our maiden fair to kindly telephone in her own language and acquaint the baron with the fact of our arrival. she did so; they were strangers, and each heard the other's dulcet tones for the first time through the mechanical mysteries of the telephone. the baron joined us an hour later, he invited us to dinner, he escorted us about, he drove us to a park, he sat beside us in the evening while we drank coffee and admired the view. he came to see us off the following day, he gave us books and flowers as a parting gift, and we left. pangs of remorse fill my soul as i write these lines. for the twenty-four hours we remained in that town i monopolised this delightful baron. i plied him with questions, i insisted on his showing me everything there was to be seen of interest, and telling me many things i wished to know about his country, and, with regret, truth compels me to repeat, that, so dense were my powers of perception, i monopolised him almost entirely, while he must have been longing to be alone with the girl he had fallen in love with at first sight--or at first hearing. we left finland shortly after this, but had hardly reached our native shore before a letter from the charming girl arrived, in which she said, "fancy, the baron turned up here the other day, and the day after his arrival he proposed, i accepted him, and we shall be married by the end of the month." comment is needless. romance will have its sway in spite of dense englishwomen and stupid writers, who do not see what is going on under their noses, in their search for less interesting information elsewhere. from romance to reality is but a span, and fishermen, and their name is legion, may be glad to learn a little about the fishing in finland, and that the best rivers lie in the governor's province of _wiborg_. there are lake salmon, trout, and grayling; minnows and sand-eels are specially favoured as bait. in the government district of _st. michael_ excellent sport is also to be found, especially _salmo eriox_ and trout. dead bait is chiefly used. but a large stretch of this water is rented by the _kalkis fisk klubb_. in the district of _kuopio_ permission to fish may be obtained from henriksson, the manager of a large ironwork at _warkaus_ and _konnus_. silk bait and devon minnows prove most useful. in the province of _uleåborg_ salmon of every kind can be caught at _waala_, where there is a charge of ten marks (eight shillings) for the season. there are also trout and grayling, and the ordinary english flies and minnows are the best bait, jock scott, dry doctor, zulu, and shrimp being great favourites. sportsmen can put up at _lannimalio_, or _poukamo_, at the peasants' small farms; but information is readily given by the english consul at _uleåborg_, who, although a finlander, knows english well. at the town of _kajana_ two marks a day is charged for trout and grayling fishing, but in the adjacent rivers, _hyrynsalmi_ and _kuusamo_, the fishing is free. on the borders of russia, at _kem_, the best grayling fishing perhaps in the world is to be found. the sport generally begins on the st april, and ends at _waala_ on th september, and at _kajana_ a few days later. practically all the fishing is free, and when not so, the charge is merely nominal. near _waala_ salmon up to lbs., grayling ½ lbs., or trout lbs. are not uncommon. there is no netting except at two points on the _uleå_ river, and there is a great move nowadays to take the nets off from saturday to monday to let the fish free. _herman renfors_ was then the best fisherman in finland. he told us that during five days, in september ,--things are not nearly so good as this nowadays--he caught the following:-- sept. . grayling weighing lbs. salmon, , , , , , , , = " -------- lbs. " . grayling weighing lbs. salmon, , , , , , , = " -------- lbs. " . grayling weighing lbs. salmon, , , , , = " -------- lbs. " . grayling weighing lbs. salmon, , , , , , , , = " -------- lbs. " . grayling weighing lbs. salmon, , , , , , = " -------- lbs. total in five days lbs. ======== verily a record. his sister made his flies; and the salmon which weighed lbs. he got with a salmon-spoon of his own make. he uses a spinning-rod feet long, or a fly-rod feet long. we saw him fishing in the famous rapids, and never shall we forget the dexterity of his throw, or the art of his "play." he once caught lbs. of fish in three weeks. masters of the piscatorial art, does not envy enter your souls? but this is digression, and our narrative demands that we proceed to tell how a twopenny fare in a little steamboat from _uleåborg_ brought us to the tar stores. on a finnish steamboat one often requires change, so much paper money being in use, and the plan for procuring it is somewhat original. in neat little paper bags change for half a mark or a whole mark is securely fastened down, the colour of the bag indicating the amount of money it contains, therefore there can be no cheating. if one wants a mark changed the ticket-collector immediately produces a little sealed envelope containing a mark in pence, and having opened it one pays him whatever may be due. from fifty thousand to seventy thousand barrels of tar are deposited every summer by the boats which shoot the _uleå_ rapids upon the quay near the town. what a sight! there they were piled two and three high like pipes of wine in the great london vaults, but in this case the barrels were not under cover, but simply lay on a quay that was railed in. every barrel had to be tested before final shipment, and when we arrived a man was going round for this purpose trying each cask after the bung had been extracted. he wore high boots, and carried his ink-bottle in his boot leg as the london brewer carries his ink in his coat pocket. then a helper, who followed behind, thumped in the bung while the foreman made his notes in a book, and in a few minutes a man or a woman came and rolled the barrel away. those employed in the task wore strong leather gloves with no fingers--only a thumb, and so tarred they were absolutely hard, as also their boots from walking over the tarry ground. and yet all the faces were beautifully clean, and the clothes almost spotless. the ground at these stores is literally sodden with tar, though here and there little drains are cut in order to collect it; the air being permeated by its wholesome smell. fancy if such a quay caught fire. fancy those thousands of barrels in flames--and yet a famous admiral once set fire to this very tar store in the name of england; a little act of destruction that finland has never quite forgiven great britain. after spending some days in _uleåborg_, it became necessary to make a forward movement--not towards lapland, as originally intended, for that had been vetoed as impossible in summer. we were still hundreds, we might almost say thousands, of miles from home, when we arranged to leave our pleasant quarters on the following afternoon for _hangö_. what a truly national experience! first of all, the petersburg steamer, by which we were to travel, though announced to start at three p.m., never left its moorings till . . only one hour and forty minutes late, but that was a mere trifle to a finn. the cargo was taken on board up to the very last minute--eighteen enormous barrels of salmon (twice or thrice the size of eighteen-gallon casks of beer), five hundred rolls of leather, which, having come as raw skins from america, had been dressed in _uleåborg_, ready for _riga_, whither the consignment was bound, also a hundred big baskets, made of the plaited bark so common in finland, filled with glue, likewise the product of a leather factory. one thing amazed us immensely; viz. that our steamer was allowed to lie almost alongside of the tar stores we had so lately visited. with the aid of only one single spark from her chimney all those barrels would quickly be ablaze. however, the genial english-speaking captain, as well as the british consul who had come to see us off, set our minds at rest by explaining that the steamer only burnt coal, no wood-burning boat being allowed near the tar--the coal making few sparks and wood many. fancy, coal! we had not seen or heard of coal for weeks; all the trains, the houses, and the steamboats, burn wood only, except the large ships that go right out to sea, and they could not burn wood, because of its bulk, unless they dragged a dozen barges behind them to give a continuous supply on the voyage. another finnish scene was being enacted around us. about a dozen emigrants were leaving their native land by way of _hangö_, where they were to change steamers for england, and pass thence to america. they had paid seven or eight pounds each for their passage money, and were going off to seek their fortunes in a new world--going to a strange country, speaking another tongue than their own, going away from all they had on earth, from friends, relations, associations, going full of hope, perchance to fail! some years later, when i was in the states, i learned what excellent emigrants these finlanders make, and how successful they generally become, but they looked so sad that day that our hearts ached for them as they sat on their little boxes and bundles on the quays, among the sixty or seventy friends who had come to see them off. the bell rang; no one moved. it rang again, when each said to the other _hyvästi_ (good-bye), and with a jaunty shake of the hand all round, the emigrants marched on board, and our ship steamed away, without a wet eye or a smothered sob. will nothing move these people? is it that they hide their feelings, or is it that they have none to conceal? the stoicism of the finn is one of his strongest characteristics. as we passed out of the harbour our thoughts recurred to heart-breaking farewells on board p. and o. and orient steamers, where the partings are generally only for a few years, and the voyagers are going to lands speaking their own language and to appointments ready waiting for them. how strange is the emigrant, and how far more enigmatical the finn. our steamer _Åbo_ was delightful, quite the most comfortable we chanced on in finland; the captain, a charming man, fortunately spoke excellent english, although over the cabin door was written a grand specimen of a swedish word--_aktersalongspassagerare_, meaning first-class passenger saloon. although the _Åbo_ plied from _uleåborg_ to petersburg, and was a large passenger steamer, she stopped at many places for two or three hours at a time, in order to take in passengers and cargo, while we lay-to at night because of the dangers of the coast, and waited half a day at _wasa_, one of the most important towns in finland. the train journey from _uleåborg_ to _Åbo_ occupies thirty hours, while the steamer dawdles placidly over the same distance for three days and a half. have you ever travelled with a melon? if not, you have lost a delightful experience--please try. at one of the many halting-places on our way to _hangö_, we were wandering through the streets on a very hot day, when in a shop window some beautiful melons attracted our attention. "oh!" exclaimed my sister, "we must have one, how cool and refreshing they look." "what shall we do with it?" i asked. "send it down to the steamer," was her reply, "it will be so nice on board." we accordingly went in, bought the melon with the help of our best swedish, for here, being opposite sweden, that language was still in vogue; we explained it was to go to the _ångbåtshytt_ (cabin) number ten, and left cheerfully. we returned to our steamer home; while leaving the harbour we remained on deck, and it was not until late in the evening, when the ship began to roll considerably, that we went below. at the head of the cabin stairs a most extraordinary odour greeted our senses; as we neared our cabin the smell increased; when we opened the door we were nearly knocked down by the terrible scent of the melon which had looked so charming in the shop window. though very hot all day, as the weather had been decidedly rough for some hours, the port-hole was closed, therefore the melon had thoroughly scented the queer little cabin. "this is impossible," i exclaimed. "i never smelt anything so overpowering in my life, except a cod-liver oil factory in iceland. we cannot sleep in such an atmosphere." my sister looked crestfallen. "it is rather strong," said she pensively; "shall we put it outside?" "no," i replied, "if we, who bought it, cannot endure the smell, how are the wretched occupants on the other side to put up with such an inconvenience?" "then we must eat it," she remarked with conviction, and, undoing the paper and cutting a slice, she proceeded solemnly to devour that melon. strangely enough, in spite of its overpowering odour, the fruit tasted delicious, for, be it owned, i ate some too, and when we had enjoyed our feast we opened the port-hole and threw its rind into a watery grave. we had not been long in bed before we heard a great commotion outside--an appeal to the stewardess, then angry words, and at last a regular row. dare we own the cause? _it was our melon!_ no one knew it was our melon, but half awake, holding on to keep in our bunks at all, we lay and listened to the angry discussion, feeling it could serve no good purpose if we got up to confess a dead and buried sin. nevertheless, that melon lay long on our consciences. we will never voluntarily travel with one again. we did not fall asleep till we had pulled up for the night. as we lay we reviewed our past experiences, and thought over the towns of _suomi_. _uleåborg_, which we had just left, is perhaps the most northerly town of any importance in europe, and, after _helsingfors_, it is the most imposing in finland. _wiborg_, which from its position is on the high road to russia, ought to be handsome also and have good stone buildings, but it is not handsome, and has few good buildings. _willmanstrand_ is merely a collection of small wooden houses, some barracks, and numberless tents for camping out. _nyslott_ is scattered, and of no importance were it not for its castle and its new bath-house. _kuopio_ is perhaps the most picturesquely situated inland town in finland, and the view from _puijo_, a hill of some height behind the township, is really good on a fine night. it is extensive, and gives a wonderful idea of the lakes and islands, rivers and forests of which finland is composed. _iisalmi_ is nothing--hardly possesses an hotel, in fact--and _kajana_ not much better, although the rapids make it of great interest. _sordavala_, as a town, is simple, neither beautifully situated nor interesting, except as a centre of learning, for it possesses wonderful schools for men and women. _tammerfors_ may be called the manchester of finland; but the towns are really hardly worth mentioning as towns, being all built of wood and utterly lacking historical interest. the towns are the weak part of finland. the water-ways are the amazement of every traveller; the people most interesting. that both have a charm, and a very distinct charm, cannot be denied, and therefore finland is a country well worth visiting. for the fisherman there is splendid sport. for the gun there is much game, and in some parts both are free. to the swimmer there are endless spots to bathe; in a canoe the country can be traversed from end to end. for the botanist there are many interesting and even arctic flowers. for the artist there are almost unequalled sunsets and sky effects. for the pedestrian there are fairly good roads,--but for the fashionable tourist who likes paris, london, or rome, there is absolutely no attraction, and a saratoga trunk could not find lodging. there are a few trains and many boats in parts, but, once away from these, the traveller must rough it in every sense; leave all but absolutely necessary luggage behind, and keep that well within bounds; and prepare to live on peasant's fare, such as fish, milk, coffee, eggs, black bread and butter (all of which are excellent). he must never be in a hurry, must go good-naturedly and cheerfully to work, and, above all, possess a strong constitution that can endure eight or ten hours' jolting a day in carts without springs. such travelling is the only way to see the country, and learn the habits and customs of the people, the _karelen_ and _savolax_ districts being especially worth visiting by any one who has such objects in view. at length we dropped off to sleep, feeling our visit had been well worth the little inconveniences we laughed away. finland is much to be preferred for a holiday than many better-known countries. at different little towns along the gulf of bothnia the steamer stopped in answer to a "call," and some passenger clambered on board from a small boat, which mode of proceeding reminded us of the ships that go round oban and mull and such scotch ports, where the same sort of thing goes on, the letters being dropped by the vessel as she passes. at _jacobstad_, our first real halting-place, we stayed six hours to take on board many barrels of tar made in the neighbourhood, chicory, etc. beside our boat, two large steamers (german and english) were being laden with wood. britain was taking some thousands of solid staves, about five feet long, for the coal-pits at home, where they are used as supports. germany's importation was planks, probably for building purposes. women were doing all the work; they were pushing truck-loads along a railway line, lifting the staves one by one on to a primitive sort of truck-like arrangement that could be dragged on board by the crane, and heavy work it appeared, although they did not seem to mind much. the english boat was already full, but the wood was being stacked up on the deck as high as the bridge. as she was a steamer, it seemed hardly profitable to burn coal to convey wood to britain! all round the harbour, if we can give it such a name, were rafts still in the water, or stacks of wood in a more advanced condition ready for export. the rafts were being taken to pieces now they had reached the coast; men standing to their waists in water loosened the ties, while horses pulled the pine-tree trunks on shore. finns have no time to idle in the summer, for it is during those four or five months that everything must be done, and sufficient money earned to keep them for the rest of the year. luckily the days are long, and certainly the peasantry take advantage of the light, for they seem to work hard for eighteen or twenty hours at a stretch. _wasa_ is celebrated for its beautiful girls; and remembering that during eight or nine weeks in finland we had seen no pretty peasants, and only about as many good-looking girls of the better class as could be counted on the fingers of both hands, full of pleasant anticipation we went on shore to see these beauteous maids--and--there were none. the town was deserted, every one had gone away to their island or country homes, and no doubt taken the pretty girls with them. at all events they had left _wasa_, which, to our surprise, was lined by boulevards of trees, quite green and picturesque, stone houses here and there, and an occasional villa; and if we did not find lovely females, we saw many with tidy heads, an adjunct as important to a woman as a well-shaved chin to a man. _wasa_ was one of the nicest-looking towns of finland. every one in it spoke swedish. for weeks we had been travelling through parts of the country where finnish was the only tongue, but here we were in another atmosphere. soon after leaving _uleåborg_ we found the peasants speaking swedish. in winter they can walk over the gulf of bothnia to sweden, so it is hardly to be wondered at that they preserve their old language. it is the same all the way down the coast to _helsingfors_. of course we went to the baths at _wasa_; we always did everywhere. there are no baths in hotels or on board ships, but each town has its warm baths, and its swimming-baths railed off on the water-side, and there are regular attendants everywhere. lo! in the swimming-bath two mermaids played and frolicked when we entered, and, let us own at once, they were two very beautiful girls--so beautiful, in fact, that we feel we ought to retract our remarks anent the lack of loveliness in the female sex. somewhat hungry after our dip we went to the café--and to another surprise. the girl behind the counter was lovely. well--well--here was the third beauty in one day, and all hidden from masculine gaze, for two had been at the ladies' swimming-bath, and the third was in a café for ladies only. poor men of finland, how much you have missed! we asked for rolls and butter and jam, with a cup of coffee, as we were not dining till . . the lovely maid opened her eyes wide. an endless source of amusement to the natives was the englishwomen eating jam. although they have so many wonderful berries in finland, and make them into the most luscious preserves, they eat the sweetened ones as pudding and the unsweetened with meat, but such a thing as eating _hjortron_ on bread and butter was considered too utterly funny an idea. at the little café at _wasa_ the brilliant notion seized us of having white bread, butter, and _hjortron_ preserve. our kind finnish friend gave the order, and the pretty girl repeated-- "_hjortron?_ but there is no meat." "we don't want any meat; but the ladies would like some jam with their coffee." "then shall i bring you cream to eat it as pudding?" she asked, still more amazed. "no," was the reply, "they will eat it spread on bread and butter." "what! _hjortron_ on bread and butter!" the waitress exclaimed. "impossible!" and to her mind the combination was as incongruous as preserves eaten with meat would be to the ordinary english peasant, or as our mint sauce served with lamb seems to a foreigner, who also looks upon our rhubarb tart as a dose of medicine. another thing that surprised the folk was that we always wanted salt. it is really remarkable how seldom a finlander touches it at all; indeed, they will sit down and calmly eat an egg without even a grain of salt. perhaps there is something in the climate that makes it less necessary for them than other folk, because we know that in the interior of some parts of africa, the craving for salt is so dreadful that a native will willingly give the same weight in gold for its equivalent in salt. we stopped at _Åbo_, the ancient capital of finland, justly proud of its stone cathedral. two things struck us as extraordinary in this building. the first were long words painted on several of the pews--"_för nattvardsgäster rippiwäkä warten_," which, being translated into english, notified "for those who were waiting for the communion." the second thing was a mummy, almost as old as the cathedral itself, which was begun in the year by bishop heinrich. stay, yet a third thing caught our attention--the scotch names on the monuments, the descendants of which people still live in finland. many scotch settled in _suomi_ centuries ago, and england has the proud honour of having sent over the first protestant bishop to finland. we saw marvellous mummies--all once living members of some of the oldest families in finland; there they lie in wondrous caverns in the crypt, but as formerly tourists were wicked enough to tear off fingers and so forth in remembrance of these folks, they are now no longer shown. however, that delightful gentleman, the head of the police, who escorted us about _Åbo_, had the mysterious iron trapdoor in the floor uplifted, and down some steep steps--almost ladder-like, with queer guttering tallow dips in our hands--we stumbled into the mummies' vault. the mummies themselves were not beautiful. the whole figure was there, it is true, but shrivelled and blackened by age. the coffins or sarcophagi in which they lay were in many cases of exquisite workmanship. we cannot dwell on the history of the cathedral, which has played such an important part in the religious controversies of the country, any more than we may linger among the mummies and general sights of the respective towns, because this in no way purposes to be a guide-book. all information of that kind is excellently given in dr. august ramsay's admirable little guide to his own land, which has been translated into several languages. for the same reason we must pass over the interesting castle--not nearly so delightful though as our dear old haunted pile at _nyslott_--with its valuable collection of national curiosities, among which figures an old-fashioned flail, used until comparatively modern times, to beat the devil out of the church. it was at _Åbo_ we were introduced to one of the greatest delicacies of finland. crayfish, for which the finnish word is _rapu_, appear to be found in nearly all the lakes and rivers in the south and middle of finland. oh, how we loved those crayfish. there is a close season for them which lasts from the st of may until the th of july, but immediately after the latter date they are caught by the tens of thousands and sent in large consignments to st. petersburg, stockholm, and even berlin. catching these little crayfish is not only a profession, but also a great source of amusement to young and old among the better class. at night, or the early morning, is the best time for the sport. a man takes ten or more sticks, to the end of each of which he fastens a piece of string about thirty to fifty centimetres long. to this string he secures a piece of meat, which, be it owned, is considered by the little fish a more dainty morsel when slightly tainted. these sticks he fixes to the bank or holds in his hands, so that the piece of meat is below the surface of the water. having secured what may be called all his fishing-rods safely at a certain distance, he wanders along the banks observing carefully where a crayfish is hanging on to a piece of meat by its claws. when such is the case he quickly gets hold of a landing-net, and placing it under its little black shell lifts the animal out of the water. then he goes to the next stick, and generally the crayfish catch on so quickly, he is busily employed the whole time going from one rod to another. the more professional catchers have a net under the bait, but that is not really necessary. young men and women thoroughly enjoy these crayfish parties, where it is said the maidens sometimes catch other fish than the _rapu_. it was really amazing, in the market-place at _Åbo_, to see the large baskets filled with these little crayfish. think of it, ye gourmands. they were not sold singly or even by the score, but by the hundred; and a hundred of them cost fourpence. when one remembers the enormous price paid in paris for _bisque_ soup, and the expense of _écrevisse_, generally, one feels what a fortune ought to lie in those baskets. but such is life. we either have too much or too little of everything. chapter xx a fashionable watering-place. one cannot be long in finland during the summer without being asked "are you going to _hangö_?" "see rome and die" seems there to be transformed into "see _hangö_ and live." "where is _hangö_, what is _hangö_--why _hangö_?" we at last inquired in desperation. the finlander to whom we spoke looked aghast, and explained that "not to have heard of _hangö_ was a crime, not to have been to _hangö_ a misfortune." accordingly, desiring to do the correct thing before leaving the land of thousands of lakes, we took the steamer from the ancient town of _Åbo_, to the modern fashionable watering-place of _hangö_. it was ten o'clock at night when we arrived from _Åbo_, and were met with warm welcome by kind friends on the quay, with whom we drove to the hotel, as we thought, but that was quite a mistake. we were at _hangö_, and within five minutes the _isvoschtschik_ stopped before a pavilion where music was jingling inspiriting tunes; up the steps we were hurried, and at the top found ourselves, travel-stained and tired, in the midst of a wild and furious finnish, or, to speak more properly, russian ball. it was a strange spectacle. at first we thought that some sixty or seventy sailors from the four russian men-of-war lying in the harbour had been let out for the evening, their blue serge blouses and lighter linen collars with white stripes having a familiar air, still it seemed strange that such smart ladies, in dainty gowns, hats flowered in paris, and laces fingered in belgium, should be dancing with ordinary able-bodied seamen. ere long we discovered these sailors were cadets, or midshipmen, as we should call them, among the number being two russian princes and many of the nobility. then there were officers in naval uniform, elderly generals--who had merely come in to have a look--clad in long gray coats lined with scarlet; small persons wearing top-boots and spurs, with linen coats and brass buttons, who smilingly said they were "in the guards," although their stature hardly reminded us of their english namesakes! girls in shirts and skirts and sailor hats, got up for the seaside and comfort, who looked as much out of place in this casino ballroom as many high dames appeared next morning while wandering down to the "bad hus" to be bathed in mud or pine, their gorgeous silk linings and lace-trimmed skirts appearing absolutely ridiculous on the sandy roads or beach. to be well-dressed is to be suitably dressed, and _hangö_, like many another watering-place, has much to learn in the way of common sense. it was sunday. the ball had begun as usual on that evening at seven, and was over about eleven; but while it lasted every one danced hard, and the youngsters from the ships romped and whirled madly round the room, as youth alone knows how. we all get old very soon--let us enjoy such wild delights while we may. no one with a slender purse should go to _hangö_, not at least unless he has made a bargain with an hotel, or he will find that even a little finnish watering-place ventures to charge twelve marks ( s. d.) a day for a small room, not even facing the sea (with mark penni for _bougies_ extra), in a hotel that has neither drawing-room, billiard-room, nor reading-room. but it must again be repeated that finland is not cheap, that travelling indeed is just as expensive there as anywhere else abroad, more expensive, in fact, than in some of the loveliest parts of the tyrol, or the quaintest districts of brittany and normandy. and perhaps the most distressing part of the whole business is the prevalent idea that every englishman must be immensely rich, and consequently willing to pay whatever ridiculous sum the finns may choose to ask--an idea which cannot be too soon dispelled. _hangö_ is certainly a charming spot as far as situation goes, and lies in more salt water than any other place in finland, for it is the nearest point to the german ocean, while during the winter months it is the only port that is open for finland and northern russia--even this is not always the case, though an ice-breaker works hard day and night to disperse the ice, which endeavour generally proves successful, or the winter export of butter, one of finland's greatest industries, would be stopped and perhaps ruined. not only _hangö_ but all the southern coast of finland shelters the summer houses of many of the aristocracy of russia. out to sea are islands; skirting the coasts are splendid granite rocks, showing the glacial progress later than in other lands, for finland remained cold longer than our own country. pine-trees make a sort of park thickly studded with wooden villas of every shape and size, some gray, some deep red, all with balconies wide enough to serve for dining-rooms, though the pretty villas themselves are often only one storey high. it is very difficult in such a seaside labyrinth to find one's friends, because most of the houses are nameless, and many are not even on roads--just standing lonely among the pines. they are dear little homes, often very picturesque and primitive, so primitive that it utterly bewilders any stranger, unaccustomed to such incongruities, to see a lady in patent leather shoes and silk stockings, dressed as if going to hurlingham or the bois de boulogne, emerge from one of them and daintily step through sand to the casino--walking hither and thither, nodding a dozen times a day to the same acquaintances, speaking to others, gossiping over everything and everybody with a chosen few, while her daughter is left to play tennis with that finnish girl's idea of all manly beauty, "a lieutenant," or knocks a very big ball with a very small mallet through an ancient croquet hoop, that must have come out of the ark--that is to say, if croquet hoops ever went into the ark. _hangö_ is a dear, sweet, reposeful, health-giving, primitive place, spoilt by gay russians and would-be-fashionable finns, who seem to aim at aping trouville or ostend without the french _chic_, or the parisian _gaieté de coeur_. wonderful summer evenings, splendid effects of light and shade on the water, beautiful scenery, glorious dawns and sunsets--everything was there to delight the poet, to inspire the painter, to tempt the worldly to reflect, but no one paused to think, only nodded to another friend, laughed over a new hat, chaffed about the latest flirtation, and passed on. after studying many over-gowned ladies, we turned by way of contrast to the ill-dressed emigrants leaving this famous port. it certainly seems strange, considering the paucity of skilled labour in finland, that so many of the population should emigrate. in fact, it is not merely strange but sad to reflect that a hundred folk a week leave their native country every summer, tempted by wild tales of certain fortune which the steamship agents do not scruple to tell. some of the poor creatures do succeed, it is true, but that they do not succeed without enduring much hardship is certain; whereas finland wants skilled labourers badly, and other countries could spare them well. for instance, in the large granite factory at _hangö_ some four hundred men are always employed, and paid extremely well, yet skilled labour of the sort is difficult to get--emigration being presented on all sides as a golden lure. granite is found all over finland; indeed, _suomi_ has risen from the sea on a base of granite, green, gray, red, and black, all of fine quality. five million roubles were paid for the wonderful _denkmal_ to be erected at the kremlin in moscow as a memorial of alexander the second. the statue itself was entrusted to russia's most famous sculptor, but the pedestals, stairs, etc., we saw in process of manufacture at _hangö_. we were shown over the works by a professor well known as a mathematician, and were much interested to see how finlanders cut and polish granite for tombstones, pillars, etc. the rough stone is generally hewn into form by hand, somewhat roughly with a hammer and mallet, then it is cut into blocks with a saw really made of pellets of steel powder. very slow and laborious work it is, and requires great exactitude. often when the cutting is nearly accomplished some hidden flaw discloses itself, and a stone that had appeared of great value proves to be almost worthless; or the men when chipping the rough granite may suddenly find a flake too much has been chipped off by mistake, which involves not merely the loss of that block but of the labour expended on it. finnish granites are chiefly exported to russia, but scotland takes a few of the gray. many of the great russian churches contain beautiful specimens. some of the more experienced workers earn as much as ten and twelve shillings per diem--higher pay being given to the best polishers. flat polishing can be done by machinery, but one of the four pedestals intended to support the great alexander monument was being polished round the crevices by three men, who had spent twenty-two days doing those few square feet, and on which, when we left, they were still at work. an afternoon we spent on one of the ships of the russian squadron proved thoroughly enjoyable. the admiral kindly invited us on board, and showed us over his vessel. the squadron at that time at _hangö_ consisted of four ships, two of which were utilised for training, one receiving young cadets from twelve to fourteen years of age, and the other, older lads who were waiting to be sent off as officers. they arrange their naval training differently in russia from what we do in england. that is to say, for six summer months cadets live on board the training-ships, but the six winter months are spent at the college in st. petersburg, where they learn the theoretical part of their education. a boat came to fetch us manned by twelve oars, all cadets, as well as the steersman who stood at the stern. they were the most charming lads imaginable, and during the following days we saw much of them, and learnt to appreciate their delightful manners, and to wonder more and more at their linguistic accomplishments. several of them spoke english admirably, most knew french well, and some german. on an english training-ship, or, indeed, an english man-of-war, should we be likely to find such a large percentage acquainted with any language but their own? when we asked them how it was they were able to converse in foreign tongues so fluently, they invariably replied they had an english nurse or french governess in their home when young. "but," we returned, "although you learnt it when children, how have you managed to keep it up as men?" for we know how our english schoolboys forget such languages as they learn at home, or are taught french and german on some hideous principle at school, which leaves them utterly incapable of understanding or speaking a word when they go out into the world. "oh," they answered, "we take great trouble to remember what we learnt when young, for a man must know something more than his own language. we all read foreign papers or books whenever we get an opportunity." they were delightful young fellows, although we must own their dress at first somewhat surprised us, for they were clothed in our ordinary seamen's clothes--a white blouse and blue sailor collar, with white duck trousers, being their attire by day, or the same in blue serge by night. they were unaffectedly proud of their ship, and showed us over it with great _éclat_, but we must confess that, although the russians speak more languages than our own sailors, or officers for that matter, an english man-of-war seemed to us in every way smarter and better kept than a russian. between decks was a piano, and the russian admiral suggested that some of the boys (many of whom were finlanders) should play the _balalaika_, the great national instrument, which is something like a triangular guitar, and emits sweet sounds. one lad at once sat himself down to the piano, and five others fetching their _balalaika_, played some of the quaint national airs of russia. then a young man performed most wonderfully on the violin, and it turned out that they had great concerts among themselves--music and chess being two of their chief recreations. every cadet wore round his neck a silver or gold chain with a little cross attached, for each member of the greek church has such bestowed in the following manner:-- a christening was about to take place at the isaak in st. petersburg. never having seen the rite of baptism performed in a greek church, we sat at the golden base of a colossal finnish granite pillar waiting. there was the font--a large silver bath on a pedestal, big enough to hold a child of eight or ten. round its edges were placed four candles, three of which were lighted. at a table near sat a long-haired priest, with a kindly face, who was taking down all the details of the children from the respective fathers, of whom there were five. the first was a young officer. he came forward when called upon, and produced from a pocketbook his passport, which every russian carries about with him to prove his identity, his marriage certificate, etc. from the church documents the statistics of russia are taken, for it is the priests who supply all such information. into a book, therefore, our kindly-faced priest copied the father's and mother's names, the child's baptismal name, adding the name of the saint given to the child when received into the church. on the father's passport of identity he entered the child's name, date of birth and baptism, afterwards duly signing the document. all this took a long time, and we were struck by the fact that one of the five fathers, a most respectable-looking person, could not write and had to put his x. one often hears of russian lack of education, but certainly it is difficult to conceive that, in any other civilised country, an individual of the same rank--for he appeared to be worth some hundreds of pounds a year--could have been found unable to write his own name. while all this was going on, the verger, if we may so call a uniformed gentleman in attendance, made himself busy in going from nurse to nurse collecting the baptismal garments. each woman had brought a coverlet--a sort of white bedspread, and a small linen and lace chemise. a blue ribbon was run round the neck of the latter for a boy, and a pink one for a girl. another small ribbon, on which hung a gold cross--the gift of the respective godfather--was placed round the child's neck as a blessing from the church, and it was this we noticed every cadet wearing, no russian ever going without. while this ceremony was in progress, the five babies, each one of which was only two or three days old, for infants must be baptized before they reach the age of eight days, yelled more or less--and no wonder. at last all was ready; the five fathers gathered round the font, each holding the white coverlet into which he was to receive his new-born baby straight from the blessings of the church, and between them stood the respective nurses holding their small charges. the priest donned a gorgeous robe, read the baptismal service, and went from infant to infant, crossing their heads, their hands, their feet with sacred oil, each baby lying naked the while in the coverlet its nurse had brought for the purpose. after another prayer he proceeded--hot water having been added to the font--to baptize them, and very cleverly he managed this extremely difficult undertaking. putting his right hand on the chest and under the arms of the infant, he lifted the small nude specimen of humanity gently, and, with a muttered prayer, turned it upside down, dipping its head three times right into the water of the font, while with his left hand he splashed the pure lymph all over its back. of course, the baby howled at such ablutions--what infant would not, for they were well-nigh sufficient to drown it--but he held each tiny creature securely and kindly till he placed it wet and dripping in its father's arms. the idea being that the father should receive his child back cleansed from sin by the hands of the church. each nurse, when relieved of her charge, arranged the new coverlet under the father's chin and over his hands, as foreigners do their serviettes at table, and each man--especially the shy young officer--received the dripping squalling baby therein with an agonised expression of countenance. the father was obliged to hold his kicking and yelling infant till the priest had "dressed it in the clothes of the church," by slipping the little chemise over its head and clasping the ribbon and cross round its neck. even then, however, all was not ended. the infants had still to receive holy communion, there being, we understand, no confirmation ceremony in the greek church. this the priest administered by simply putting a small spoonful of mixed wine and water into each child's mouth. when this had been done the five fathers gave the five infants back to their nurses, who dressed them up and took them home. new-born babies have their troubles in russia, for such a christening must be a grave trouble indeed, and thus they receive their cross, which they have to carry to the grave. beneath the low-necked blouses of our cadets the chain was distinctly visible. the russian mazurka being a great institution, we asked our friend the admiral, before leaving his ship, if his cadets might dance it for us. "certainly," he said. and they did, but as the decks were small and the dance intricate, we entreated the admiral to let them come on shore one night and dance it at the hotel. he very kindly agreed, so after eating the most delicious russian sweets (_marmalada_) in his cabin, served on a great round meat dish, and congratulating him on his wonderful english, which he spoke most fluently, we left. it is said no one can learn the russian mazurka unless brought up to it from childhood; and, certainly, the figures are more intricate than the cotillion. some of the steps resemble the scotch reel or barn dance, especially when the dancers beat time with their heels, and we certainly think the swinging measure of the mazurka is often more knack than knowledge. the ladies float through most of it, holding their arms on high as in the days of the old french minuet, but the men perform many more elaborate steps to a rattling time and tune. the russian mazurka is a very long performance--indeed, it may go on all night; and as there are many figures, and all intricate, some one has to lead by word of mouth. when one hears a man roaring for the first time in a ballroom, it sounds somewhat extraordinary, and yet this is the sort of thing which goes on during a russian mazurka or quadrille. "ladies and gentlemen turn." "ladies in the middle." "gentlemen gallop round." "men on their knees." "ladies dance round them," etc. these commands being given incessantly for an hour, or perhaps two, until the unfortunate director is worn out and weary, and hoarse into the bargain. it is a gift to be a good director, and any man who shows aptitude for this rôle has generally little time to dance, and has to work very hard during the evening's entertainment. there is no doubt about it that the mazurka, when danced by stately court folk, is a very elegant and beautiful form of the terpsichorean art, although when young people get together it is apt to degenerate into something of a romp. it was with sincere regret that we left _hangö_, for to us leaving _hangö_ meant leaving finland. three months previously we had landed on those shores, strangers in a little-known country, where we met with warm friends, whose hospitality we enjoyed more than it is possible to say. we were tired and weary, for we had travelled far and seen much, and learnt, we hope, not a little. if in this endeavour to give our impressions of _suomi_ as we saw it we have failed, the kind friends dwelling on the borders of lapland and russia must forgive us, and remember that few books exist by which to correct our impressions. they must not forget, either, that all our information was gleaned either by means of observation, and naturally english eyes look at many things differently from finnish, or by the willing translations of those we met, who always had to speak what to them was a foreign language, and generally, indeed, almost always, a strange one to us. we were therefore both at a disadvantage, and we cannot help smiling as we remember some of our struggles to understand properly what the dear folk wished to impart. our eyes were tired with sights, our minds were chaotic with strange ideas and tongues, but yet we felt how misunderstood that beautiful county is, how well worthy of careful study, and what a delightful new field it opens up to the traveller who, though he believes he "knows all europe," yet has omitted _suomi_, one of her quaintest gems. the days of prophecy are over; but as these pages are about an old-world land, a land that like rip van winkle has been sleeping, we may perhaps be allowed to predict that, having at last wakened from her long slumber, _suomi_ will rise to distinction, for this younger generation of finlanders, as ibsen says, is now "knocking at the door" of nations. finnish women are the most advanced in the world to-day. all honour to them, and all congratulations to their wise men. great women help to make great nations. appendix questions of nationality and politics in finland has suffered. finland is suffering under russian rule, but surely russia will soon realise what a valuable people the finlanders are, and bring the banner of reconciliation instead of further antagonism into their land. finland is a wonderful little country and her people are strong. the conquest of finland by sweden ( - ) placed the former country within the limits of european culture. from that time the finnish nation has been included within the ranks of the civilised countries of western europe. finland has from olden times had a mixed population. large portions of the country were inhabited by lapps, and to judge from archæological finds and other data, there was a scandinavian population in the south and west. the finns seem to have come into the country from the east and the south, crossing the gulf of finland. the lapps were gradually driven farther to the north, and it also appears that, in many parts, the scandinavian element was absorbed into the more numerous finnish population, but after the swedish conquest the swedes in finland were reinforced by immigration from sweden. owing to the scanty information that has come down to us on the condition of the ancient finns in heathen times, before the swedish conquest, very little is known about their ancient institutions. it is evident, however, that they were divided among themselves into hostile clans, without a common bond of union. they lived partly on isolated farms, partly in village communities, and were governed by elected or hereditary chiefs; they pursued agriculture, made iron out of native ores, traded by sea, were doubtless pirates like the scandinavian vikings, and had special trading places, which were frequented even by foreigners. among the scandinavians the finns were known for their skill in making arms and by their witchcraft. as to the latter belief, it had, doubtless, its origin in the old finns' shaman rites, but was also nourished by their runic songs, in which faith in the supernatural power of the wise but hidden _word_ prevailed. the swedish conquest united the finnish clans under one government, and thus formed the unity of the finnish nation. the free political institutions of sweden were introduced into finland, where they soon took up their abode owing to the support of the large class of free peasantry which had existed from olden times. in the inhabitants of finland, through their representatives, received the right to take part in the election of kings in sweden, and finland was now placed on an equal footing with other parts of the swedish realm. representatives of the finnish nobility, clergy, burghers, and peasants were sent to the swedish parliament (_riksdag_). this naturally formed a strong safeguard for the independence of the peasantry, which, in finland, as also at times in sweden, was repeatedly threatened by a powerful aristocracy. the great advantages that the swedish government brought with it for finland were accompanied, however, by a drawback that gradually became a heavy burden. the finnish language was set aside. swedish being the language of administration, it was exclusively used in all government offices, courts of justice, and, by degrees, it became the language of culture and education. the growing literature appeared in swedish, and was naturally inaccessible to the mass of the people. in the churches, however, the services were held in finnish. in the new testament was published in finnish translation, and a hundred years later a translation of the whole bible was printed. other books also were gradually published in finnish, the selection being chiefly of a religious or economic nature. at the meetings of the _riksdag_ the representatives of finland repeatedly insisted that measures should be taken to induce officials and judges to learn finnish. these demands, however, the justice of which was always acknowledged in theory, rarely produced any practical results. situated between two rival realms, sweden and russia, finland became, at short intervals, the scene of bloody wars which were conducted by those states against each other. great parts of the country were thereby desolated, and the population diminished. an era remarkable in this respect was the great northern war ( - ), at the end of which the population of finland was reduced to a third, and its devastated land divided between hostile powers. another division of the country ( ) only contributed still more to weaken the national strength. all that remained of this strength was required to maintain the union with sweden, which was apparently the only salvation of the nation's existence. such was the state of affairs when finland, after a heroic defence, was conquered ( ) by russia. the high-minded and liberal emperor, alexander i., considered that the new conquest could not be better preserved than by attaching his new subjects with bonds of affection to himself. to this end he summoned the representatives of the finnish people to a parliamentary meeting at borgå, where the estates assembled on march , . at this meeting--the diet of borgå, as it is generally called--the emperor announced his intention to confirm the swedish constitution, hitherto enjoyed by finland, as valid for the grand duchy. in the following survey of the political institutions of finland we venture to quote somewhat freely from senator l. mechelin's excellent book, _a précis of the public law of finland_, translated from the french original into english by mr. charles j. cooke, formerly british consul in finland. the emperor signed, on march , the following declaration to the inhabitants of finland:-- french original. les destinées de la providence nous ayant fait prendre en possession le grand duché de finlande, nous avons voulu, par l'acte présent, confirmer et ratifier la religion et les lois fondamentales du pays, ainsi que les privilèges et droits, dont chaque classe dans le dit grand duché, en particulier, et tous les habitants en général, qu'ils aient une position élevée ou inférieure, ont joui jusqu'ici selon la constitution. nous promettons de maintenir tous ces avantages et les lois fermes et inébranlables dans leur pleine force. english translation. providence having placed us in possession of the grand duchy of finland, we have desired, by the present act, to confirm and ratify the religion and fundamental laws of the land, as well as the privileges and rights, which each class in the said grand duchy, in particular, and all the inhabitants in general, be their position high or low, have hitherto enjoyed according to the constitution. we promise to maintain all these benefits and laws firm and unshaken in their full force. two days later, at a solemn audience held in the cathedral, the tzar received the homage of the estates as grand duke of finland. the estates took the oath of fealty to the new sovereign, and affirmed, at the same time, the inviolability of the constitution; the emperor's declaration was read aloud, the document was delivered into the custody of the marshal of the nobles; after which a herald of noble birth stood before the throne and proclaimed: "vive alexandre i., empereur de toutes les russies et grand-duc de finlande!" the ceremony concluded with a speech from the emperor, in the french language, bearing witness to the sentiments with which he had received the homage and oath of the country's representatives, and testifying that it was an _act of union_ that had just been effected. the emperor and grand duke submitted to the diet propositions on the four following questions:-- . the organisation of the government of the land, or the institution of a state council. . taxes and finance. . military organisation. . monetary system. thus was finland's new destiny inaugurated. the conqueror found himself in the presence of a people firmly attached to their political institutions and their civil laws, the liberal principles of which had taken root in the minds and habits of the citizens. to have employed physical force in order to incorporate this country with russia would not have accorded with the emperor's personal views, nor conduced to the immediate pacification which the political interests of the empire necessitated. hence alexander preferred an "act of union." he confirmed the old constitution, and summoned the representatives of the nation, so as to establish, conjointly with them, the new order of things. the finlanders, foreseeing the final issue of the war and the impossibility of a return to the past, could not hesitate to meet half-way the proposals of the emperor alexander, who had given them, as a security for the future, the most formal assurance to maintain the former constitution. in sweden the king had been dethroned; the swedish government had no more power over finland; the finnish estates, elected and assembled according to law, could alone at that moment represent with perfect right the finnish people. hence the authority they made use of in binding the inhabitants of the country by the oath taken to the new sovereign, on the basis of the constitution confirmed by him, was acknowledged both by the emperor and the people. the emperor expressed this in his manifesto "to all the inhabitants of finland," published at borgå, april , . no protest was heard in the country. the union thus established was clearly defined by the emperor, not only in the above-mentioned speech of th march and his speech at the conclusion of the diet, on july , , but also on other occasions--for example, in the manifesto of march , , concerning the militia, from which we extract the introduction:-- "his imperial majesty's gracious manifesto. "from the moment that, through the will of providence, finland's destiny was entrusted to us, it has been our aim to rule that land in conformity with the liberties of the nation and the rights assured to it by its constitution. "the proofs of devotion the inhabitants have given us since the oath of fealty, which they tendered to us of their perfect free will through their representatives assembled at the diet, have only conduced to strengthen us in that purpose. "all the steps we have hitherto taken, with regard to the internal administration of the country, are simply a consequence of and an addition to that fundamental idea. the maintenance of the religion and the laws, the summoning of the estates to a general diet, the formation of a state council in the nation's midst, and the inviolability of the judicial and administrative authority, afford sufficient proofs to assure the finnish nation (_finska nationen_) of its political existence and the rights appertaining thereto." as has been said above, one of the questions submitted by alexander i. to the diet was the establishment of a state council, to carry out the government of the country. the statutes for this council were issued on august , , and its name was in changed to imperial senate for finland; in the manifesto, in which this change of name was effected, the emperor took the occasion to repeat his "assurance of a separate constitution of the country, under our sceptre and that of our successors." according to the constitution, the emperor and grand duke is assisted in the work of governing finland by the senate, the governor-general, and the office of the finnish secretary of state residing in st. petersburg. the emperor and grand duke has the right, in criminal matters, to pardon, to commute the penalty of death, to pronounce the rehabilitation of and to return forfeited property. he commands the military forces, provides for the defence of the country, declares war, concludes treaties of peace, of alliance, and so forth. he appoints to the higher offices of state. he has the right of conferring titles on persons who have particularly well merited of the sovereign or of the country; he may also raise nobles to the rank of baron or count. by means of naturalisation the emperor may grant to foreigners and russian subjects the status of finnish citizens. the senate is composed of two departments--that of justice, which is the supreme tribunal, and the administrative department, which manages the general administration of the country. the two departments, united, form the "plenum" of the senate. the governor-general presides both over the plenum and over each of the departments, which is composed, generally, of ten members, including the vice-president. the administrative department comprises the following sections--judicial matters, home affairs, finance, control, public worship and instruction, agriculture, communications, commerce and industries. there should also be a section for military matters, but since the finnish army has been disbanded, as we shall see later on, this section no longer exists. each of these sections has a senator at its head, besides which, two senators are deputy heads of the home affairs and finance sections; the vice-president and one of the members of the administrative department have no portfolios. the number of the senators is not always, however, brought up to this full complement. the plenum of the senate is composed of the president and all the senators, or, according to the nature and importance of the business at hand, of four senators from each department, besides the president. in the absence of the governor-general, one of the vice-presidents takes the chair; in the departments, the oldest senator present presides at the plenum. the senators are appointed by the emperor for a period of three years, at the expiration of which their appointment may be renewed. all the senators of the department of justice, and at least two of the members of the administrative department, ought to be competent to discharge the functions of a judge. all matters to be discussed are reported upon by referendary-secretaries, except financial questions, the report of which is entrusted to the controllers of the financial departments of the senate. the referendary-secretaries and the controllers are appointed by the emperor. all cases are decided by a majority of votes, the president having a casting vote should there be an equal division. in the sections of the administrative department the head senator alone, or his deputy, decides as to the resolutions to be taken on the report of the referendary-secretary, or of the controller. the procurator-general has the right of being present at the sittings of the senate, without, however, voting, or taking part in the deliberations. he is appointed by the emperor, as is also his deputy and assistant. the senate has a permanent committee for the preparation of projected measures, working under the guidance of a senator, appointed by the senate, for each legislative measure with which the committee is charged. the plenum of the senate appoints the members of the committee for a period of three years. under the constitution, finland has the right to a separate army organisation. for a long time after finland was united to russia, no soldiers were raised in finland, since it was considered that the country, which had suffered so much under the war, should be for some time to come relieved of every military burden. later on, however, finnish troops were organised under the old swedish military tenure system, and in a new military law came into force, having been duly passed by the diet and received imperial sanction. under this law, personal military service was compulsory for every finnish citizen; every able-bodied man had to serve either with the colours, or in the reserve, or the militia. none but finnish citizens could enter the army. the governor-general was commander-in-chief of the troops. how this army was dissolved will be stated later on. we have several times referred to the governors of provinces, so it may be well here to enumerate a few of their duties:-- the governor's functions are very numerous. he must see to the public order and safety, and to the maintenance of roads and bridges. he is the head of the provincial police branches. he executes the sentences of tribunals. he orders the levying of distresses and executions. he supervises, by means of crown inspectors, the tenants of crown lands. he administers the state grain stores. he controls the collection of direct taxes and excises, and the administration of the provincial pay-offices. he presides over the higher recruiting commission. he is the agent of the senate in all matters for which the province has no special officials or agents. the decisions of the communes in certain cases require the governor's sanction. he directs the attention of the senate and of the governor-general to any measures calculated to promote the prosperity of the province. he presents every year, to the emperor and to the senate, a report on the condition of the province entrusted to him. the functions of the governor place him in communication, not only with the home section, but also with the other sections of the administrative department of the senate. legislation in finland is of a twofold nature. it is an inheritance of the old swedish constitution, which, it will be remembered, remained valid in finland after , that the sovereign exercises legislative powers, by means of administrative ordinances, in certain minor matters, described as "cases of economy and order." this, however, forms an exception to the general rule, under which legislation must be carried out by the sovereign and the representatives of the people conjointly. the constitution also provided, as it stood up till , that it depended solely on the sovereign to convoke the representatives, whenever a legislative measure, requiring the co-operation of the representatives, was found desirable. the new rulers of finland were, therefore, not by law compelled to convoke the diet, and so it happened that no diet was held until the time of alexander ii., when the estates of finland assembled in . in a law of the diet was issued, and invested with the sanctity of a fundamental law. the old swedish system of four estates, or orders--the nobles, the clergy, the burgesses, and the peasantry--was retained. by this law, the summoning of the diet was no longer left to the good-will of the monarch, but the diets were to be periodical, and the estates to be convoked at least every five years. but the diet still had no other right of initiative than by means of "petitions" to the sovereign to present to the estates a bill on such questions as, in the opinion of the diet, required legislative measures. the right of initiative, by way of "motions," was to a considerable extent granted to the diet under alexander iii., in . the new law of the diet, of july , , has materially changed the composition of the diet. it now consists of one chamber only, the number of members being two hundred. the sessions of the diet are annual. the right of initiative by way of motion has been extended to all questions within the legislative competence of the diet except questions affecting the fundamental laws (of which this new law is one) and the organisation of the defence by land or by sea. on these questions, however, the diet has the right to "petition" the sovereign. the members of the diet are elected for a period of three years, but before the expiration of this period the diet may be dissolved by order of the sovereign. the elections take place, under an elaborate system of proportional voting, and the franchise is extended to every finnish citizen, man or woman, who is twenty-four years old or more. disqualified to vote are persons who serve in the active army; who stand under tutelage; who have not been inscribed as finnish citizens during the three years preceding the election; those who during the two preceding years have failed to pay their taxes, unless this omission is due to want of means; who are in permanent receipt of poor relief; undischarged bankrupts; persons condemned to ignominious punishment; finally, persons convicted for corrupt practices are disfranchised for a period of six years. the electorate in finland now amounts to some , , persons, or about forty per cent, of the total population. women as well as men are eligible as members of the diet. it is a fundamental principle of the finnish constitution that the country shall be governed with the assistance of native authorities only. * * * * * a brief survey of party politics in finland will, perhaps, now be of interest. at its union with russia, finland presented a country where the upper classes spoke a language different from that used by the majority of the people. this majority, with a language that had no place in the administration of the country, did not consist of serfs or farm-hands, but of free landowners with their own servants and labourers. that such a state of things could not last long soon became clear to every thoughtful person. already during past centuries the scientific and lighter literature, although written in swedish, had been inspired by a national spirit. henrik gabriel porthan, professor of the university of Åbo, had devoted his life to deep researches into the history, language, and folklore of the finnish people, and a great many of his disciples followed in his footsteps. the cultured finn, spite of his swedish mother-tongue, had always considered himself a member of the finnish nation. the altered circumstances, on which finland entered subsequent to her union with the mighty russian empire, had the effect of inspiring earnest patriots with the gravest anxiety. was there any possibility for finland to maintain its home policy, or, indeed, its national life? if such a possibility existed, could it be looked for anywhere else than in a unanimous and national feeling? the answer to these questions may be found in the famous words of a young university teacher, arvidsson: "swedes we are no more, russians we cannot become, therefore let us be finns!" the national consciousness gathered fresh impulse from the appearance of the great national epic, _kalevala_, songs descending from heathen times, written down by elias lönnrot from the lips of the people, as described in a former chapter. in no less degree was the national feeling intensified by the great poet, johan ludvig runeberg. in his poems, inspired by a glowing love for the finnish fatherland, he glorified the courage, faithfulness, and honour of the finnish people. although written in swedish, the poems, successfully translated, have become the property of the whole population. with the awakening national feeling it is natural that special attention should be directed to the cause of the long neglected finnish language. one of the earliest and most important champions of this language was johan wilhelm snellman, who advocated his cause with great vigour and skill in his two journals, first the _saima_ ( - ), and _literaturblad för allmän medborgerlig bildning_[f] ( - ). snellman's activity was of epoch-making importance for finland. with much penetration he proved that the existence of the finnish people depended on the preservation and development of the language spoken by the bulk of the population. he maintained that the west-european civilisation, that had been imparted to the finnish nation, would never take firm root if only supported by a small upper class--it ought to become the property of the whole people. an educated, finnish-speaking class must be created, and to this end schools established in which the pupils could receive their instruction in finnish. the finnish language must be introduced in government offices, courts of justice, and so on. snellman's ideas were embraced with enthusiasm by large portions of the educated classes, particularly so by university students. snellman's campaign was not conducted without opposition. his career commenced at the period of bureaucratic reaction characteristic of the _régime_ of nicholas i. in the draconic edict was issued by which the publication of all other books than those of a religious or economic nature in the finnish language was forbidden. this somewhat preposterous edict had soon to be repealed, and snellman's work gained more recognition. he was appointed professor of philosophy in , and a member of the senate in . in the same year an ordinance was issued by which the finnish language was admitted to government offices and courts of justice, but it was not as yet recognised as a language with equal rights with swedish. in the meantime the language question came to form the dividing line between the two principal parties in the home politics of finland. as explained in chapter vii., the champions of the finnish language were dubbed _fennomans_, while those who advocated the position of swedish were known as _svecomans_. the strife between the two parties was at times very bitter, especially between the extreme wings of the parties. the extremists on the finnish side wanted the finnish tongue to supersede the swedish, which was to be reduced to the position of a tolerated local language. the moderates on both sides found a _modus vivendi_ in the equality of rights of the two languages. on the whole, the svecoman party recognised the justness of the finnish claims, but advocated vigorously the necessity of preserving the swedish language, which, besides being the mother tongue of a considerable portion of the peasantry in finland, possessed historic rights as the language of the higher culture in the country, and forms the link of communication with scandinavian, and the whole west european civilisation. the svecomans gave a warning against a too hasty introduction of the finnish language into official use before its undoubted lack of an official terminology had been properly filled. the fennomans, again, admitting the soundness of this objection, set to work at the development of finnish, and their untiring efforts have borne excellent fruits, so that at the present time it not only is well equipped with a legal phraseology, but is capable of serving the demands of cultured literature and science. one point of difference between fennomans and svecomans consisted in this, that the former, naturally impatient to effect a full recognition of their language, insisted that the language question should be settled by means of an administrative ordinance, which could be done much quicker than by a law duly passed by the diet. this latter procedure might take years, considering the long intervals at that time between the sessions of the diet, even if the diet, in which then the swedish element predominated, would pass such a bill. the svecomans, again, preferred the second course, as being constitutionally sounder, and they also pointed to the dangerous precedent an administrative procedure would involve. the opposition of the svecomans was also to some degree at least based on their reluctance, especially on the part of officials belonging to an older generation, to acquire knowledge of an extremely difficult language, and a language which was still in official making. the resistance offered by the extremists of the svecoman party to the establishment of new finnish secondary schools was certainly not to their credit. it is impossible to follow here the language struggle in finland in all its vicissitudes. at present, finnish and swedish form the two official languages in finland, with a natural preponderance of finnish, as the language of the majority. every one aspiring to an official position in finland must possess a sufficient knowledge of both languages. in some posts, russian is also required, and the plan is now contemplated in st. petersburg to supersede both swedish and finnish with russian in all the more important departments, though the russian-speaking population in finland only amounts to a few thousand people. to a stranger like myself this seems a curious idea, hardly worthy of so great a country as russia. the language question is no longer the dominant factor in finnish party politics; but before we proceed to an account of the new party divisions, it will be necessary to give a brief sketch of the recent political history of the grand duchy. whereas under alexander ii. the constitution of finland had been respected, and its liberties even to some degree extended, attempts were made under alexander iii. to over-ride the finnish laws, but these did not affect questions of greater importance. at that time not only was finland at peace, but russia herself had not begun that terrible struggle which later kept her in an iron grip--the universal socialistic unrest from which the whole world is suffering. when, in , nicholas ii. ascended the throne, he signed, as had all his august predecessors, the act of assurance, in which he promised to maintain the constitution. for some time everything went on smoothly, until , when general bobrikoff was appointed governor-general of the grand duchy, and grave misgivings began to be entertained in finland. general bobrikoff was preceded by a reputation of being the principal agent in the russification of the baltic provinces, and it soon appeared that he was sent to finland on a similar mission. simultaneously with general bobrikoff's appointment, the finnish estates were summoned to an extraordinary session in january , and in the summons it was said that a bill for a new military law would be presented to them. the bill, when it arrived in the diet, turned out to be entirely subversive of the existing military organisation, and tended to a complete denationalisation of the finnish army; it contained no provision as to the limitation of recruits to be taken out annually for service with the colours, and their number might be increased five or even six times, as compared with the number taken out under the old law. it soon became evident that the diet would not accept this bill, and while the deliberations were still in a preliminary stage, an event happened which was to mark a new epoch in the recent history of finland. a "gracious manifesto," dated february , , was published, by which the legislative competence of the finnish diet was limited to minor local affairs, and the general effect of which was an overthrow of the finnish constitution. it is impossible to describe adequately the excitement created in finland by this entirely unexpected measure. meetings of protest were held everywhere, and in the course of a few weeks a monster address was signed by over half a million people, or about half of the adult population. a mass deputation of five hundred persons, representing all the parishes in finland, went to st. petersburg to present the address to the tzar. but it was not received by him. the immediate effect of the "february manifesto" was that the finnish diet was no longer required to exercise its legislative powers on the army bill, but it was declared that the estates had only to give their "opinion" on the matter. the diet refused to submit to this curtailment of the constitutional rights of the country, and drew up a counter proposal, which, while maintaining the national character of the army, provided for a considerable increase of the finnish troops. this proposal, as may have been expected, did not receive the sovereign's sanction, and in a new military law was issued by means of an imperial decree, based almost entirely on the original bill, which had been refused by the diet. when this new army edict was to be enforced it met with a vigorous opposition. the would-be recruits, summoned to the annual levies, failed in large numbers to put in their appearance. one of the effects of this opposition was the disbandment of the existing finnish regiments. in the meantime--both before and after the promulgation of the army edict--a long series of ordinances were issued, and other measures taken which were not only unconstitutional in principle, but also in direct conflict with the common law of the land, too numerous to be recorded in detail in this brief summary. we may here mention only the introduction of the russian language in public departments, the appointment of russians to important public posts, such as provincial governorships, the transfer of administrative powers from the senate to the person of the governor-general. to all these measures a "passive resistance" was organised in finland. it was inculcated on the minds of the people that every finnish citizen, whether in an official position or not, affected by any illegal measures, should refuse to comply, and should act in accordance only with the indisputably legal rights of the country, irrespective of threats of punishment. finland was struggling for her rights. that this resistance would provoke repressive measures was fully expected, and the expectations were amply fulfilled. scores of officials, though legally irremovable except by trial and sentence, were summarily dismissed; judges equally summarily removed; numerous domiciliary visits were paid by the russian police and gendarmes to persons suspected of tendencies of opposition; illegal arrests were effected. the newspapers were ruthlessly persecuted. in the years to scores of newspapers were suspended for short periods, and twenty-four were permanently suppressed. in general bobrikoff procured for himself dictatorial powers in finland, of which he availed himself freely. among other things, more than fifty finlanders, many of them belonging to the most prominent citizens of the grand duchy, were exiled or deported to russia. some of the deportations, however, happened after the death of general bobrikoff. on june , , a young official, eugen schauman, who had never been known to take an active interest in politics, shot general bobrikoff dead, and immediately afterwards killed himself. a few weeks later, on july , m. de plehve fell the victim of a plot of russian revolutionaries, aided and abetted, it appears, by agents of the russian secret police. m. de plehve combined with his office of russian minister of the interior the post as secretary of state for finland, which, by the way, also was illegal, as this post should be filled by a finlander. thus two of the most prominent enemies of finland were no longer among the living. m. de plehve's immediate successor, prince sviatopolsk-mirski, was a humane and liberal-minded man. the new governor-general in finland, prince obolenski, also was a man of a far less aggressive type than general bobrikoff. shortly after his arrival in finland more lenient methods in dealing with finland were adopted. in the autumn of the diet was convoked, and those of the exiles who were either members by right of birth of the house of nobles, or had been elected to either of the other houses, were allowed to return. at this time russia was involved in the disastrous war with japan. the grave difficulties which the government experienced from the repeated defeats in the far east were further enhanced by the revolutionary movement at home. at the end of october a general strike was proclaimed in russia, which resulted in the tzar's manifesto of october , in which the establishment of a constitutional government in russia was promised. the same day a general strike broke out in finland. all government offices, schools, industrial establishments, restaurants, public-houses, and shops were closed. the railway service, and to a great extent the steamship service, stopped; so also the telephones and the supply of electric light. only a few telegraph lines were in operation. in the towns, the tramways and cabs no longer moved in the streets. only the water and food supply was kept going. in helsingfors, a deputation of leading citizens went to prince obolenski, and urged him to resign his post. the same demand was directed to the members of the senate, who were too much compromised on account of their submissiveness to general bobrikoff's _régime_. on december , , the diet had adopted a "humble petition" to the tzar for the restitution of finland's constitutional rights, but no answer had been forthcoming. this petition was now brought to the tzar's notice, and on november , , he signed a manifesto, in which he granted the petition and repealed all the more important of the previous unconstitutional measures. the manifesto of february , , was to be "suspended until the questions therein contained shall be arranged by an act of legislation." at the same time, the diet was convoked for december , . the importance of this diet is only surpassed by that held at borgå in , almost a century before, and it is equalled only by the diet of . it was the last diet held under the system of four estates, sitting in separate houses, and the last remnant of this time-honoured, venerable, but certainly somewhat cumbrous swedish system of representation disappeared. for at this diet the new law of the diet, of which a brief account is given above, was adopted in may . during the "bobrikoff era," or "era of oppression," as the preceding years were called in finland, women had done excellent service in the organisation of the passive resistance movement, and largely for this reason men were ready and willing that the suffrage should be extended to women on the same conditions as to men themselves. no vulgar rioting was necessary. finnish men were wide-minded enough to see that as regards brains, employment, and politics, there should be no such question as sex. the proportional system of voting was also adopted without any opposition. the same year the principles of the freedom of the press, of assemblies, and of associations were guaranteed by a law, invested with the sanctity of fundamental laws, which, for their repeal or alteration, require a qualified majority. we can now return to the question of parties in finland. already before the commencement of the "bobrikoff era," the fennoman party had split up into two groups known as the old-finnish and the young-finnish party. the latter professed more liberal views on various questions, as in regard to religion and social problems. the svecoman party had to a considerable extent abandoned its opposition to the finnish claims, but it still remained as representing the interests of the swedish population in finland. when the russian attacks first commenced, all party divergences were sunk into oblivion, and the country provided the spectacle of a completely united nation. general bobrikoff was too much of a tactician to be pleased with this state of affairs, and he began to play up to the old-finns, not without success. among other things, he filled all public posts, vacated by their former occupants, who had either resigned on constitutional grounds or had been dismissed, exclusively with old-finns. the swedish and young-finnish parties now entered on a powerful party alliance, and formed the "constitutional" _bloc_, which was also joined by many influential members of the old-finnish party, and strongly supported by the great masses, who had previously exercised very little political influence, and from the ranks of which the recent social democratic party was later on to be recruited. it was by this _bloc_ that the passive resistance campaign was principally carried on. the leaders of the old-finnish party adopted a policy of yielding to general bobrikoff's demands, by which they hoped to save some remnants of the finnish rights. the party was to some extent disfigured by a number of office hunters, but on the whole it was actuated by patriotic motives. general bobrikoff was well aware that the old-finns at heart were much opposed to his policy, but from their submissive attitude, and their readiness to waive constitutional objections in return for temporary advantages, he took occasion to represent to the tzar that his policy had the "support of the mass of the people." when by the law of the suffrage was extended to the great masses of the people, two new parties arose. the most numerous of all parties in finland is now the social democratic party, which is strongly opposed to the russian demands. so also is the agrarian reform party, which takes up a radical platform in questions of land legislation, and is closely allied to the young-finns, with some leanings towards socialism. a small group is formed by the "christian labourers." since no less than five elections have been held, and their results may be seen from the following table:-- agrarian social swedish reform christian democrats. old-finns. young-finns. party. party. labourers. the reason why so many elections have taken place--practically every year--though the members are elected for three years, is that the diets have been dissolved by imperial command, because they have protested against new breaches of the constitution. some of the more important instances may here be recorded. in june the russian council of ministers was invested with far-reaching powers to interfere in the business both of the finnish senate and the diet. in the russian legislature adopted a proposal, presented by the tzar, and sanctioned by him on june , which provided that a vast number of questions, specified in the new law, were withdrawn from the competence of the finnish diet. legislation on such questions was henceforward transferred to the russian legislature, and the diet was placed in a position to give its opinion on them only. when a law relating to finland was to be discussed in the russian duma or council of state, finland was to be represented by four members in the former, and two members in the latter chamber. the finnish diet declared that it could not recognise the new law as legal, since it was unconstitutionally enacted, and in substance constituted a breach of finnish laws. in february the russian legislature passed a law, by which russians coming to finland were to enjoy all the rights accruing to finns without acquiring finnish citizenship. a serious question of principle is involved in this new measure, since it amounts to the negation of a separate finnish citizenship, which has hitherto been recognised by the russian rulers even in their dealings with foreign powers. one of the obvious motives for this law is to make it possible to appoint russian officials to finnish posts. several such appointments have already taken place. in august the members of the wiborg town court were arrested, and brought to st. petersburg to be tried before a russian court for having refused to apply the law just mentioned. the people of finland are awaiting with grave anxiety further developments in the present russian policy. i am only an outsider, but i have travelled a little both in finland and russia. it seems to me that the characters of the two peoples are so fundamentally different, they should each have free hands; and that russia, while retaining finland as part of the russian empire, should allow her the administration of her own affairs, which she has always shown herself so capable of exercising. the end. footnotes: [f] _journal for literature and general instruction in civic affairs._ established [illustration] t. nelson and sons printers and publishers the nelson library of notable books. _uniform with this volume and same price._ _forthcoming volumes._ felicity in france. constance maud. miss maud has written a fascinating guide book to the french countryside. a pleasant thread of narrative is woven into the book, but it is primarily a description of travels in different parts of france. the perfect sympathy with and understanding of french life, and the humour and grace of the style make it an ideal travelling companion. (_july ._) my climbs in the alps and caucasus. a. f. mummery. mr. a. f. mummery, who was killed by an avalanche in attempting the ascent of nanga parbat in the himalayas, was probably the greatest climber of his day. he was the first, for example, to ascend that most formidable of the chamonix aiguilles, the grepon, where the "mummery chimney" still commemorates his achievement. the present volume is one of the great classics of mountaineering, and can be read with delight by those who have never seen anything higher than the surrey downs. (_august ._) nelson library of notable books _condensed list._ scrambles amongst the alps. collections and recollections. the great boer war. life of john nicholson. dean hole's "memories." life of gladstone. psalms in human life. wild life in a southern county. the forest. the golden age. sir henry hawkins's reminiscences. selected essays. life of lord russell of killowen. making of modern egypt. from the cape to cairo. life of alexander hamilton. a book about the garden. culture and anarchy. collections and recollections. nd series. life of frank buckland. a modern utopia. with kitchener to khartum. unveiling of lhasa. life of lord dufferin. life of dean stanley. popular astronomy. dream days. round the world on a wheel. path to rome. the life of canon ainger. reminiscences of lady dorothy nevill. a social departure. letters and recollections of sir walter scott. literature and dogma. sermons by the rev. c. h. spurgeon. my confidences. sir frank lockwood. the making of a frontier. life of general gordon. collected poems of henry newbolt. pot-pourri from a surrey garden. the ring and the book. the alps from end to end. the english constitution. in india. the life of cobden. the life of parnell. havelock's march. up from slavery. recollections of the rt. hon. sir algernon west. great englishmen of the sixteenth century. where black rules white. historical mysteries. the strenuous life. memories grave and gay. life of danton. a pocketful of sixpences. the romance of a proconsul (sir george grey). a book about roses. random reminiscences. the london police courts. the amateur poacher. the bancrofts. at the works. mexico as i saw it. eighteenth century vignettes. the great andes of the equator. the early history of c. j. fox. through the heart of patagonia. browning as a religious teacher. life of tolstoy. paris to new york. life of lewis carroll. a naturalist in the guianas. the mantle of the east. letters of dr. john brown. jubilee book of cricket. by desert ways to baghdad. fields, factories, and workshops. some old love stories. life of lord lawrence. problems of poverty. the burden of the balkans. life and letters of lord macaulay--i. and ii. what i saw in russia. wild england of to-day. leaves from an inspector's logbook. _others in preparation._ * * * * * thomas nelson and sons. * * * * * transcriber's note: the following corrections have been applied to this text: the national air of finland is _maamme_ or _vårt land_ in swedish ("our land"). "vårt" was printed as "vart" in the original. for in those northern climes there are many strange natural effects far more beautiful than in the south. "there are" missing in the original. with a bathroom." nested opening quotes are closed with one closing quote. _me tahdomme lähteä_ (or _matkustaa_) we would like to leave at one _kello yksi._ o'clock. "me tahdomme" lähteä was printed as "meetahdommlähteä" in the original. _viisi kymmentä._ . "kymmentä" missing in the original _kolme sataa._ . "sataa" was printed as "soloa" in the original. _tuhat kahdeksansataa yhdeksänkymmentä kuusi._ . "kuusi" was missing in the original. let us take as an example a -mark _öre_ (tax). "us" was printed as "as" in the original. and is certainly in a very flourishing condition. "flourishing" was printed as "flourishng" in the original. for my sister and i were going back to _ilkeäsaari_ alone "ilkeäsaari" was printed as "ilkeâsaari" in the original. and for the male, _slöjd_, gardening, and fieldwork. "slöjd" was printed as "slojd" in the original. when we went to _kuopio_ we hoped to meet _minna canth_ "kuopio" was printed as "koupio" in the original. lined throughout with black sheepskin. "througout" was printed as "thoughout" in the original. feeling the incarnation of industry and pride, "feeling" was printed as "fealing" in the original. coupled with the bare simplicity of the boards "simplicity" was printed as "simplictiy" in the original. accordingly, every year on that day in june sixty men start work at _uleåborg_ "every" was printed as "ever" in the original. we explained it was to go to the _ångbåtshytt_ (cabin) number ten "ångbåtshytt" was printed as "angbat shytt" in the original. par l'acte présent "présent" was printed as "present" in the original. ont joui jusqu'ici selon la constitution "jusqu'ici" was printed as "jusqu' ici" in the original. maintenir tous ces avantages "ces" was printed as "ses" in the original. afford sufficient proofs to assure the finnish nation "proofs" was printed as "poofs" in the original. none wonderful adventures of mrs. seacole in many lands edited by w. j. s. with an introductory preface by w. h. russell, esq., the "times" correspondent in the crimea. london: james blackwood, paternoster row. . [illustration: mrs. seacole's hotel in the crimea.] london: thomas harrild, printer, , salisbury square, fleet street. dedicated, by permission, to major-general lord rokeby, k.c.b., by his lordship's humble and most grateful servant, mary seacole. to the reader. i should have thought that no preface would have been required to introduce mrs. seacole to the british public, or to recommend a book which must, from the circumstances in which the subject of it was placed, be unique in literature. if singleness of heart, true charity, and christian works; if trials and sufferings, dangers and perils, encountered boldly by a helpless woman on her errand of mercy in the camp and in the battle-field, can excite sympathy or move curiosity, mary seacole will have many friends and many readers. she is no anna comnena, who presents us with a verbose history, but a plain truth-speaking woman, who has lived an adventurous life amid scenes which have never yet found a historian among the actors on the stage where they passed. i have witnessed her devotion and her courage; i have already borne testimony to her services to all who needed them. she is the first who has redeemed the name of "sutler" from the suspicion of worthlessness, mercenary baseness, and plunder; and i trust that england will not forget one who nursed her sick, who sought out her wounded to aid and succour them, and who performed the last offices for some of her illustrious dead. w. h. russell. contents. chapter i. my birth and parentage--early tastes and travels--marriage, and widowhood chapter ii. struggles for life--the cholera in jamaica--i leave kingston for the isthmus of panama--chagres, navy bay, and gatun--life in panama--up the river chagres to gorgona and cruces chapter iii. my reception at the independent hotel--a cruces table d'hôte--life in cruces--amusements of the crowds--a novel four-post bed chapter iv. an unwelcome visitor in cruces--the cholera--success of the yellow doctress--fearful scene at the mule-owner's--the burying parties--the cholera attacks me chapter v. american sympathy--i take an hotel in cruces--my customers--lola montes--miss hayes and the bishop--gambling in cruces--quarrels amongst the travellers--new granadan military--the thieves of cruces--a narrow escape chapter vi. migration to gorgona--farewell dinners and speeches--a building speculation--life in gorgona--sympathy with american slaves--dr. casey in trouble--floods and fires--yankee independence and freedom chapter vii. the yellow fever in jamaica--my experience of death-bed scenes--i leave again for navy bay, and open a store there--i am attacked with the gold fever, and start for escribanos--life in the interior of the republic of new granada--a revolutionary conspiracy on a small scale--the dinner delicacies of escribanos--journey up the palmilla river--a few words on the present aspect of affairs on the isthmus of panama chapter viii. i long to join the british army before sebastopol--my wanderings about london for that purpose--how i failed--establishment of the firm of "day and martin"--i embark for turkey chapter ix. voyage to constantinople--malta--gibraltar--constantinople, and what i thought of it--visit to scutari hospital--miss nightingale chapter x. "jew johnny"--i start for balaclava--kindness of my old friends--on board the "medora"--my life on shore--the sick wharf chapter xi. alarms in the harbour--getting the stores on shore--robbery by night and day--the predatory tribes of balaclava--activity of the authorities--we obtain leave to erect our store, and fix upon spring hill as its site--the turkish pacha--the flood--our carpenters--i become an english schoolmistress abroad chapter xii. the british hotel--domestic difficulties--our enemies--the russian rats--adventures in search of a cat--light-fingered zouaves--crimean thieves--powdering a horse chapter xiii. my work in the crimea chapter xiv. my customers at the british hotel chapter xv. my first glimpse of war--advance of my turkish friends on kamara--visitors to the camp--miss nightingale--mons. soyer and the cholera--summer in the crimea--"thirsty souls"--death busy in the trenches chapter xvi. under fire on the fatal th of june--before the redan--at the cemetery--the armistice--deaths at head-quarters--depression in the camp--plenty in the crimea--the plague of flies--under fire at the battle of the tchernaya--work on the field--my patients chapter xvii. inside sebastopol--the last bombardment of sebastopol--on cathcart's hill--rumours in the camp--the attack on the malakhoff--the old work again--a sunday excursion--inside "our" city--i am taken for a spy, and thereat lose my temper--i visit the redan, etc.--my share of the plunder chapter xviii. holiday in the camp--a new enemy, time--amusements in the crimea--my share in them--dinner at spring hill--at the races--christmas day in the british hotel--new year's day in the hospital chapter xix. new year in the crimea--good news--the armistice--barter with the russians--war and peace--tidings of peace--excursions into the interior of the crimea--to simpheropol, baktchiserai, etc.--the troops begin to leave the crimea--friends' farewells--the cemeteries--we remove from spring hill to balaclava--alarming sacrifice of our stock--a last glimpse of sebastopol--home! conclusion adventures of mrs. seacole in many lands. chapter i. my birth and parentage--early tastes and travels--marriage, and widowhood. i was born in the town of kingston, in the island of jamaica, some time in the present century. as a female, and a widow, i may be well excused giving the precise date of this important event. but i do not mind confessing that the century and myself were both young together, and that we have grown side by side into age and consequence. i am a creole, and have good scotch blood coursing in my veins. my father was a soldier, of an old scotch family; and to him i often trace my affection for a camp-life, and my sympathy with what i have heard my friends call "the pomp, pride, and circumstance of glorious war." many people have also traced to my scotch blood that energy and activity which are not always found in the creole race, and which have carried me to so many varied scenes: and perhaps they are right. i have often heard the term "lazy creole" applied to my country people; but i am sure i do not know what it is to be indolent. all my life long i have followed the impulse which led me to be up and doing; and so far from resting idle anywhere, i have never wanted inclination to rove, nor will powerful enough to find a way to carry out my wishes. that these qualities have led me into many countries, and brought me into some strange and amusing adventures, the reader, if he or she has the patience to get through this book, will see. some people, indeed, have called me quite a female ulysses. i believe that they intended it as a compliment; but from my experience of the greeks, i do not consider it a very flattering one. it is not my intention to dwell at any length upon the recollections of my childhood. my mother kept a boarding-house in kingston, and was, like very many of the creole women, an admirable doctress; in high repute with the officers of both services, and their wives, who were from time to time stationed at kingston. it was very natural that i should inherit her tastes; and so i had from early youth a yearning for medical knowledge and practice which has never deserted me. when i was a very young child i was taken by an old lady, who brought me up in her household among her own grandchildren, and who could scarcely have shown me more kindness had i been one of them; indeed, i was so spoiled by my kind patroness that, but for being frequently with my mother, i might very likely have grown up idle and useless. but i saw so much of her, and of her patients, that the ambition to become a doctress early took firm root in my mind; and i was very young when i began to make use of the little knowledge i had acquired from watching my mother, upon a great sufferer--my doll. i have noticed always what actors children are. if you leave one alone in a room, how soon it clears a little stage; and, making an audience out of a few chairs and stools, proceeds to act its childish griefs and blandishments upon its doll. so i also made good use of my dumb companion and confidante; and whatever disease was most prevalent in kingston, be sure my poor doll soon contracted it. i have had many medical triumphs in later days, and saved some valuable lives; but i really think that few have given me more real gratification than the rewarding glow of health which my fancy used to picture stealing over my patient's waxen face after long and precarious illness. before long it was very natural that i should seek to extend my practice; and so i found other patients in the dogs and cats around me. many luckless brutes were made to simulate diseases which were raging among their owners, and had forced down their reluctant throats the remedies which i deemed most likely to suit their supposed complaints. and after a time i rose still higher in my ambition; and despairing of finding another human patient, i proceeded to try my simples and essences upon--myself. when i was about twelve years old i was more frequently at my mother's house, and used to assist her in her duties; very often sharing with her the task of attending upon invalid officers or their wives, who came to her house from the adjacent camp at up-park, or the military station at newcastle. as i grew into womanhood, i began to indulge that longing to travel which will never leave me while i have health and vigour. i was never weary of tracing upon an old map the route to england; and never followed with my gaze the stately ships homeward bound without longing to be in them, and see the blue hills of jamaica fade into the distance. at that time it seemed most improbable that these girlish wishes should be gratified; but circumstances, which i need not explain, enabled me to accompany some relatives to england while i was yet a very young woman. i shall never forget my first impressions of london. of course, i am not going to bore the reader with them; but they are as vivid now as though the year -- (i had very nearly let my age slip then) had not been long ago numbered with the past. strangely enough, some of the most vivid of my recollections are the efforts of the london street-boys to poke fun at my and my companion's complexion. i am only a little brown--a few shades duskier than the brunettes whom you all admire so much; but my companion was very dark, and a fair (if i can apply the term to her) subject for their rude wit. she was hot-tempered, poor thing! and as there were no policemen to awe the boys and turn our servants' heads in those days, our progress through the london streets was sometimes a rather chequered one. i remained in england, upon the occasion of my first visit, about a year; and then returned to kingston. before long i again started for london, bringing with me this time a large stock of west indian preserves and pickles for sale. after remaining two years here, i again started home; and on the way my life and adventures were very nearly brought to a premature conclusion. christmas-day had been kept very merrily on board our ship the "velusia;" and on the following day a fire broke out in the hold. i dare say it would have resisted all the crew's efforts to put it out, had not another ship appeared in sight; upon which the fire quietly allowed itself to be extinguished. although considerably alarmed, i did not lose my senses; but during the time when the contest between fire and water was doubtful, i entered into an amicable arrangement with the ship's cook, whereby, in consideration of two pounds--which i was not, however, to pay until the crisis arrived--he agreed to lash me on to a large hen-coop. before i had been long in jamaica i started upon other trips, many of them undertaken with a view to gain. thus i spent some time in new providence, bringing home with me a large collection of handsome shells and rare shell-work, which created quite a sensation in kingston, and had a rapid sale; i visited also hayti and cuba. but i hasten onward in my narrative. returned to kingston, i nursed my old indulgent patroness in her last long illness. after she died, in my arms, i went to my mother's house, where i stayed, making myself useful in a variety of ways, and learning a great deal of creole medicinal art, until i couldn't find courage to say "no" to a certain arrangement timidly proposed by mr. seacole, but married him, and took him down to black river, where we established a store. poor man! he was very delicate; and before i undertook the charge of him, several doctors had expressed most unfavourable opinions of his health. i kept him alive by kind nursing and attention as long as i could; but at last he grew so ill that we left black river, and returned to my mother's house at kingston. within a month of our arrival there he died. this was my first great trouble, and i felt it bitterly. for days i never stirred--lost to all that passed around me in a dull stupor of despair. if you had told me that the time would soon come when i should remember this sorrow calmly, i should not have believed it possible: and yet it was so. i do not think that we hot-blooded creoles sorrow less for showing it so impetuously; but i do think that the sharp edge of our grief wears down sooner than theirs who preserve an outward demeanour of calmness, and nurse their woe secretly in their hearts. chapter ii. struggles for life--the cholera in jamaica--i leave kingston for the isthmus of panama--chagres, navy bay, and gatun--life in panama--up the river chagres to gorgona and cruces. i had one other great grief to master--the loss of my mother, and then i was left alone to battle with the world as best i might. the struggles which it cost me to succeed in life were sometimes very trying; nor have they ended yet. but i have always turned a bold front to fortune, and taken, and shall continue to take, as my brave friends in the army and navy have shown me how, "my hurts before." although it was no easy thing for a widow to make ends meet, i never allowed myself to know what repining or depression was, and so succeeded in gaining not only my daily bread, but many comforts besides from the beginning. indeed, my experience of the world--it is not finished yet, but i do not think it will give me reason to change my opinion--leads me to the conclusion that it is by no means the hard bad world which some selfish people would have us believe it. it may be as my editor says-- "that gently comes the world to those that are cast in gentle mould;" hinting at the same time, politely, that the rule may apply to me personally. and perhaps he is right, for although i was always a hearty, strong woman--plain-spoken people might say stout--i think my heart is soft enough. how slowly and gradually i succeeded in life, need not be told at length. my fortunes underwent the variations which befall all. sometimes i was rich one day, and poor the next. i never thought too exclusively of money, believing rather that we were born to be happy, and that the surest way to be wretched is to prize it overmuch. had i done so, i should have mourned over many a promising speculation proving a failure, over many a pan of preserves or guava jelly burnt in the making; and perhaps lost my mind when the great fire of , which devastated kingston, burnt down my poor home. as it was, i very nearly lost my life, for i would not leave my house until every chance of saving it had gone, and it was wrapped in flames. but, of course, i set to work again in a humbler way, and rebuilt my house by degrees, and restocked it, succeeding better than before; for i had gained a reputation as a skilful nurse and doctress, and my house was always full of invalid officers and their wives from newcastle, or the adjacent up-park camp. sometimes i had a naval or military surgeon under my roof, from whom i never failed to glean instruction, given, when they learned my love for their profession, with a readiness and kindness i am never likely to forget. many of these kind friends are alive now. i met with some when my adventures had carried me to the battle-fields of the crimea; and to those whose eyes may rest upon these pages i again offer my acknowledgments for their past kindness, which helped me to be useful to my kind in many lands. and here i may take the opportunity of explaining that it was from a confidence in my own powers, and not at all from necessity, that i remained an unprotected female. indeed, i do not mind confessing to my reader, in a friendly confidential way, that one of the hardest struggles of my life in kingston was to resist the pressing candidates for the late mr. seacole's shoes. officers of high rank sometimes took up their abode in my house. others of inferior rank were familiar with me, long before their bravery, and, alas! too often death, in the crimea, made them world famous. there were few officers of the th to whom mother seacole was not well known, before she joined them in front of sebastopol; and among the best known was good-hearted, loveable, noble h---- v----, whose death shocked me so terribly, and with whose useful heroic life the english public have become so familiar. i can hear the ring of his boyish laughter even now. in the year , the cholera swept over the island of jamaica with terrible force. our idea--perhaps an unfounded one--was, that a steamer from new orleans was the means of introducing it into the island. anyhow, they sent some clothes on shore to be washed, and poor dolly johnson, the washerwoman, whom we all knew, sickened and died of the terrible disease. while the cholera raged, i had but too many opportunities of watching its nature, and from a dr. b----, who was then lodging in my house, received many hints as to its treatment which i afterwards found invaluable. early in the same year my brother had left kingston for the isthmus of panama, then the great high-road to and from golden california, where he had established a considerable store and hotel. ever since he had done so, i had found some difficulty in checking my reviving disposition to roam, and at last persuading myself that i might be of use to him (he was far from strong), i resigned my house into the hands of a cousin, and made arrangements to journey to chagres. having come to this conclusion, i allowed no grass to grow beneath my feet, but set to work busily, for i was not going to him empty-handed. my house was full for weeks, of tailors, making up rough coats, trousers, etc., and sempstresses cutting out and making shirts. in addition to these, my kitchen was filled with busy people, manufacturing preserves, guava jelly, and other delicacies, while a considerable sum was invested in the purchase of preserved meats, vegetables, and eggs. it will be as well, perhaps, if i explain, in as few words as possible, the then condition of the isthmus of panama. all my readers must know--a glance at the map will show it to those who do not--that between north america and the envied shores of california stretches a little neck of land, insignificant-looking enough on the map, dividing the atlantic from the pacific. by crossing this, the travellers from america avoided a long, weary, and dangerous sea voyage round cape horn, or an almost impossible journey by land. but that journey across the isthmus, insignificant in distance as it was, was by no means an easy one. it seemed as if nature had determined to throw every conceivable obstacle in the way of those who should seek to join the two great oceans of the world. i have read and heard many accounts of old endeavours to effect this important and gigantic work, and how miserably they failed. it was reserved for the men of our age to accomplish what so many had died in attempting, and iron and steam, twin giants, subdued to man's will, have put a girdle over rocks and rivers, so that travellers can glide as smoothly, if not as inexpensively, over the once terrible isthmus of darien, as they can from london to brighton. not yet, however, does civilization, rule at panama. the weak sway of the new granada republic, despised by lawless men, and respected by none, is powerless to control the refuse of every nation which meet together upon its soil. whenever they feel inclined now they overpower the law easily; but seven years ago, when i visited the isthmus of panama, things were much worse, and a licence existed, compared to which the present lawless state of affairs is enviable. when, after passing chagres, an old-world, tumble-down town, for about seven miles, the steamer reached navy bay, i thought i had never seen a more luckless, dreary spot. three sides of the place were a mere swamp, and the town itself stood upon a sand-reef, the houses being built upon piles, which some one told me rotted regularly every three years. the railway, which now connects the bay with panama, was then building, and ran, as far as we could see, on piles, connected with the town by a wooden jetty. it seemed as capital a nursery for ague and fever as death could hit upon anywhere, and those on board the steamer who knew it confirmed my opinion. as we arrived a steady down-pour of rain was falling from an inky sky; the white men who met us on the wharf appeared ghostly and wraith-like, and the very negroes seemed pale and wan. the news which met us did not tempt me to lose any time in getting up the country to my brother. according to all accounts, fever and ague, with some minor diseases, especially dropsy, were having it all their own way at navy bay, and, although i only stayed one night in the place, my medicine chest was called into requisition. but the sufferers wanted remedies which i could not give them--warmth, nourishment, and fresh air. beneath leaky tents, damp huts, and even under broken railway waggons, i saw men dying from sheer exhaustion. indeed, i was very glad when, with the morning, the crowd, as the yankees called the bands of pilgrims to and from california, made ready to ascend to panama. the first stage of our journey was by railway to gatun, about twelve miles distant. for the greater portion of that distance the lines ran on piles, over as unhealthy and wretched a country as the eye could well grow weary of; but, at last, the country improved, and you caught glimpses of distant hills and english-like scenery. every mile of that fatal railway cost the world thousands of lives. i was assured that its site was marked thickly by graves, and that so great was the mortality among the labourers that three times the survivors struck in a body, and their places had to be supplied by fresh victims from america, tempted by unheard-of rates of wages. it is a gigantic undertaking, and shows what the energy and enterprise of man can accomplish. everything requisite for its construction, even the timber, had to be prepared in, and brought from, america. the railway then ran no further than gatun, and here we were to take water and ascend the river chagres to gorgona, the next stage on the way to cruces, where my brother was. the cars landed us at the bottom of a somewhat steep cutting through a reddish clay, and deposited me and my suite, consisting of a black servant, named "mac," and a little girl, in safety in the midst of my many packages, not altogether satisfied with my prospects; for the rain was falling heavily and steadily, and the gatun porters were possessing themselves of my luggage with that same avidity which distinguishes their brethren on the pier of calais or the quays of pera. there are two species of individuals whom i have found alike wherever my travels have carried me--the reader can guess their professions--porters and lawyers. it was as much as i could do to gather my packages together, sit in the midst with a determined look to awe the hungry crowd around me, and send "mac" up the steep slippery bank to report progress. after a little while he returned to say that the river-side was not far off, where boats could be hired for the upward journey. the word given, the porters threw themselves upon my packages; a pitched battle ensued, out of which issued the strongest spanish indians, with their hardly earned prizes, and we commenced the ascent of the clayey bank. now, although the surveyors of the darien highways had considerately cut steps up the steep incline, they had become worse than useless, so i floundered about terribly, more than once losing my footing altogether. and as with that due regard to personal appearance, which i have always deemed a duty as well as a pleasure to study, i had, before leaving navy bay, attired myself in a delicate light blue dress, a white bonnet prettily trimmed, and an equally chaste shawl, the reader can sympathise with my distress. however, i gained the summit, and after an arduous descent, of a few minutes duration, reached the river-side; in a most piteous plight, however, for my pretty dress, from its contact with the gatun clay, looked as red as if, in the pursuit of science, i had passed it through a strong solution of muriatic acid. by the water-side i found my travelling companions arguing angrily with the shrewd boatmen, and bating down their fares. upon collecting my luggage, i found, as i had expected, that the porters had not neglected the glorious opportunity of robbing a woman, and that several articles were missing. complaints, i knew, would not avail me, and stronger measures seemed hazardous and barely advisable in a lawless out-of-the-way spot, where "the simple plan, that they should take who have the power, and they should keep who can," seemed universally practised, and would very likely have been defended by its practitioners upon principle. it was not so easy to hire a boat as i had been led to expect. the large crowd had made the boatmen somewhat exorbitant in their demands, and there were several reasons why i should engage one for my own exclusive use, instead of sharing one with some of my travelling companions. in the first place, my luggage was somewhat bulky; and, in the second place, my experience of travel had not failed to teach me that americans (even from the northern states) are always uncomfortable in the company of coloured people, and very often show this feeling in stronger ways than by sour looks and rude words. i think, if i have a little prejudice against our cousins across the atlantic--and i do confess to a little--it is not unreasonable. i have a few shades of deeper brown upon my skin which shows me related--and i am proud of the relationship--to those poor mortals whom you once held enslaved, and whose bodies america still owns. and having this bond, and knowing what slavery is; having seen with my eyes and heard with my ears proof positive enough of its horrors--let others affect to doubt them if they will--is it surprising that i should be somewhat impatient of the airs of superiority which many americans have endeavoured to assume over me? mind, i am not speaking of all. i have met with some delightful exceptions. at length i succeeded in hiring a boat for the modest consideration of ten pounds, to carry me and my fortunes to cruces. my boat was far from uncomfortable. large and flat-bottomed, with an awning, dirty it must be confessed, beneath which swung a hammock, of which i took immediate possession. by the way, the central americans should adopt the hammock as their national badge; but for sheer necessity they would never leave it. the master of the boat, the padrone, was a fine tall negro, his crew were four common enough specimens of humanity, with a marked disregard of the prejudices of society with respect to clothing. a dirty handkerchief rolled over the head, and a wisp of something, which might have been linen, bound round the loins, formed their attire. perhaps, however, the thick coating of dirt which covered them kept them warmer than more civilized clothing, besides being indisputably more economical. the boat was generally propelled by paddles, but when the river was shallow, poles were used to punt us along, as on english rivers; the black padrone, whose superior position was indicated by the use of decent clothing, standing at the helm, gesticulating wildly, and swearing spanish oaths with a vehemence that would have put corporal trim's comrades in flanders to the blush. very much shocked, of course, but finding it perfectly useless to remonstrate with him, i swung myself in my hammock and leisurely watched the river scene. the river chagres lolled with considerable force, now between low marshy shores, now narrowing, between steep, thickly wooded banks. it was liable, as are all rivers in hilly districts, to sudden and heavy floods; and although the padrone, on leaving gatun, had pledged his soul to land me at cruces that night, i had not been long afloat before i saw that he would forfeit his worthless pledge; for the wind rose to a gale, ruffling the river here and there into a little sea; the rain came down in torrents, while the river rose rapidly, bearing down on its swollen stream trunks of trees, and similar waifs and strays, which it tossed about like a giant in sport, threatening to snag us with its playthings every moment. and when we came to a sheltered reach, and found that the little fleet of boats which had preceded us had laid to there, i came to the conclusion that, stiff, tired, and hungry, i should have to pass a night upon the river chagres. all i could get to eat was some guavas, which grew wild upon the banks, and then i watched the padrone curl his long body up among my luggage, and listened to the crew, who had rolled together at the bottom of the boat, snore as peacefully as if they slept between fair linen sheets, in the purest of calico night-gear, and the most unexceptionable of nightcaps, until somehow i fell into a troubled, dreamy sleep. at daybreak we were enabled to pursue our journey, and in a short time reached gorgona. i was glad enough to go on shore, as you may imagine. gorgona was a mere temporary town of bamboo and wood houses, hastily erected to serve as a station for the crowd. in the present rainy season, when the river was navigable up to cruces, the chief part of the population migrated thither, so that gorgona was almost deserted, and looked indescribably damp, dirty, and dull. with some difficulty i found a bakery and a butcher's shop. the meat was not very tempting, for the gorgona butchers did not trouble themselves about joints, but cut the flesh into strips about three inches wide, and of various lengths. these were hung upon rails, so that you bought your meat by the yard, and were spared any difficulty in the choice of joint. i cannot say that i was favourably impressed with this novel and simple way of avoiding trouble, but i was far too hungry to be particular, and buying a strip for a quarter of a real, carried it off to mac to cook. late that afternoon, the padrone and his crew landed me, tired, wretched, and out of temper, upon the miserable wharf of cruces. chapter iii. my reception at the independent hotel--a cruces table d'hÔte--life in cruces--amusements of the crowds--a novel four-post bed. the sympathising reader, who very likely has been laughing heartily at my late troubles, can fancy that i was looking forward with no little pleasurable anticipation to reaching my brother's cheerful home at cruces. after the long night spent on board the wretched boat in my stiff, clayey dress, and the hours of fasting, the warmth and good cheer of the independent hotel could not fail to be acceptable. my brother met me on the rickety wharf with the kindest welcome in his face, although he did not attempt to conceal a smile at my forlorn appearance, and giving the necessary instructions about my luggage, led the way at once to his house, which was situated at the upper end of the street. a capital site, he said, when the rest of the town was under water--which agreeable variety occurred twice or thrice a year unexpectedly. on our way, he rather damped my hopes by expressing his fears that he should be unable to provide his sister with the accommodation he could wish. for you see, he said, the crowd from panama has just come in, meeting your crowd from navy bay; and i shouldn't be at all surprised if very many of them have no better bed than the store floors. but, despite this warning, i was miserably unprepared for the reception that awaited me. to be sure, i found cruces as like gorgona, in its dampness, dirt, and confusion, as it well could be; but the crowd from the gold-fields of california had just arrived, having made the journey from panama on mules, and the street was filled with motley groups in picturesque variety of attire. the hotels were also full of them, while many lounged in the verandahs after their day's journey. rude, coarse gold-diggers, in gay-coloured shirts, and long, serviceable boots, elbowed, in perfect equality, keen yankee speculators, as close shaven, neat, and clean on the isthmus of panama as in the streets of new york or new orleans. the women alone kept aloof from each other, and well they might; for, while a very few seemed not ashamed of their sex, it was somewhat difficult to distinguish the majority from their male companions, save by their bolder and more reckless voice and manner. i must say, however, that many of them adopted male attire for the journey across the isthmus only, as it spared them many compliments which their husbands were often disposed to resent, however flattering they might be to their choice. through all these i pressed on, stiff, cold, and hungry, to the independent hotel, eagerly anticipating the comforts which awaited me there. at length we reached it. but, rest! warmth! comfort!--miserable delusions! picture to yourself, sympathising reader, a long, low hut, built of rough, unhewn, unplaned logs, filled up with mud and split bamboo; a long, sloping roof and a large verandah, already full of visitors. and the interior: a long room, gaily hung with dirty calico, in stripes of red and white; above it another room, in which the guests slept, having the benefit of sharing in any orgies which might be going on below them, through the broad chinks between the rough, irregular planks which formed its floor. at the further end, a small corner, partitioned roughly off, formed a bar, and around it were shelves laden with stores for the travellers, while behind it was a little room used by my brother as his private apartment; but three female travellers had hired it for their own especial use for the night, paying the enormous sum of £ for so exclusive a luxury. at the entrance sat a black man, taking toll of the comers-in, giving them in exchange for coin or gold-dust (he had a rusty pair of scales to weigh the latter) a dirty ticket, which guaranteed them supper, a night's lodging, and breakfast. i saw all this very quickly, and turned round upon my brother in angry despair. "what am i to do? why did you ever bring me to this place? see what a state i am in--cold, hungry, and wretched. i want to wash, to change my clothes, to eat, to----" but poor edward could only shrug his shoulders and shake his head, in answer to my indignant remonstrances. at last he made room for me in a corner of the crowded bar, set before me some food, and left me to watch the strange life i had come to; and before long i soon forgot my troubles in the novelty of my position. the difference between the passengers to and from california was very distinguishable. those bound for the gold country were to a certain extent fresh from civilization, and had scarcely thrown off its control; whereas the homeward bound revelled in disgusting excess of licence. although many of the women on their way to california showed clearly enough that the life of licence they sought would not be altogether unfamiliar to them, they still retained some appearance of decency in their attire and manner; but in many cases (as i have before said) the female companions of the successful gold-diggers appeared in no hurry to resume the dress or obligations of their sex. many were clothed as the men were, in flannel shirt and boots; rode their mules in unfeminine fashion, but with much ease and courage; and in their conversation successfully rivalled the coarseness of their lords. i think, on the whole, that those french lady writers who desire to enjoy the privileges of man, with the irresponsibility of the other sex, would have been delighted with the disciples who were carrying their principles into practice in the streets of cruces. the chief object of all the travellers seemed to be dinner or supper; i do not know what term they gave it. down the entire length of the independent hotel ran a table covered with a green oilskin cloth, and at proper intervals were placed knives and forks, plates, and cups and saucers turned down; and when a new-comer received his ticket, and wished to secure his place for the coming repast, he would turn his plate, cup, and saucer up; which mode of reserving seats seemed respected by the rest. and as the evening wore on, the shouting and quarrelling at the doorway in yankee twang increased momentarily; while some seated themselves at the table, and hammering upon it with the handles of their knives, hallooed out to the excited nigger cooks to make haste with the slapjack. amidst all this confusion, my brother was quietly selling shirts, boots, trousers, etc., to the travellers; while above all the din could be heard the screaming voices of his touters without, drawing attention to the good cheer of the independent hotel. over and over again, while i cowered in my snug corner, wishing to avoid the notice of all, did i wish myself safe back in my pleasant home in kingston; but it was too late to find out my mistake now. at last the table was nearly filled with a motley assemblage of men and women, and the slapjack, hot and steaming, was carried in by the black cooks. the hungry diners welcomed its advent with a shout of delight; and yet it did not seem particularly tempting. but beyond all doubt it was a capital _pièce de résistance_ for great eaters; and before the dinner was over, i saw ample reasons to induce any hotel-keeper to give it his patronage. in truth, it was a thick substantial pancake of flour, salt, and water--eggs were far too expensive to be used in its composition; and by the time the supply had disappeared, i thought the largest appetites must have been stayed. but it was followed by pork, strips of beef stewed with hard dumplings, hams, great dishes of rice, jugs of molasses and treacle for sauce; the whole being washed down with an abundance of tea and coffee. chickens and eggs were provided for those who were prepared to pay for these luxuries of panama life. but, so scarce and expensive were they, that, as i afterwards discovered, those hotel-keepers whose larders were so stocked would hang out a chicken upon their signposts, as a sure attraction for the richer and more reckless diggers; while the touter's cry of "eggs and chickens here" was a very telling one. wine and spirits were also obtainable, but were seldom taken by the americans, who are abstemious abroad as well as at home. after dinner the store soon cleared. gambling was a great attraction; but my brother, dreading its consequences with these hot-brained armed men, allowed none to take place in his hotel. so some lounged away to the faro and monte tables, which were doing a busy trade; others loitered in the verandah, smoking, and looking at the native women, who sang and danced fandangos before them. the whole of the dirty, woe-begone place, which had looked so wretched by the light of day, was brilliantly illuminated now. night would bring no rest to cruces, while the crowds were there to be fed, cheated, or amused. daybreak would find the faro-tables, with their piles of silver and little heaps of gold-dust, still surrounded by haggard gamblers; daybreak would gleam sickly upon the tawdry finery of the poor spanish singers and dancers, whose weary night's work would enable them to live upon the travellers' bounty for the next week or so. these few hours of gaiety and excitement were to provide the cruces people with food and clothing for as many days; and while their transitory sun shone, i will do them the justice to say they gathered in their hay busily. in the exciting race for gold, we need not be surprised at the strange groups which line the race-course. all that i wondered at was, that i had not foreseen what i found, or that my rage for change and novelty had closed my ears against the warning voices of those who knew somewhat of the high-road to california; but i was too tired to moralise long, and begged my brother to find me a bed somewhere. he failed to do so completely, and in despair i took the matter in my own hands; and stripping the green oilskin cloth from the rough table--it would not be wanted again until to-morrow's breakfast--pinned up some curtains round the table's legs, and turned in with my little servant beneath it. it was some comfort to know that my brother, his servants, and mac brought their mattresses, and slept upon it above us. it was a novel bed, and required some slight stretch of the imagination to fancy it a four-poster; but i was too tired to be particular, and slept soundly. we were up right early on the following morning; and refreshed with my night's sleep, i entered heartily into the preparations for breakfast. that meal over, the homeward-bound passengers took boats _en route_ for gorgona, while those bound for california hired mules for the land journey to panama. so after awhile all cleared away, and cruces was left to its unhealthy solitude. chapter iv. an unwelcome visitor in cruces--the cholera--success of the yellow doctress--fearful scene at the mule-owner's--the burying parties--the cholera attacks me. i do not think i have ever known what it is to despair, or even to despond (if such were my inclination, i have had some opportunities recently), and it was not long before i began to find out the bright side of cruces life, and enter into schemes for staying there. but it would be a week or so before the advent of another crowd would wake cruces to life and activity again; and in the meanwhile, and until i could find a convenient hut for my intended hotel, i remained my brother's guest. but it was destined that i should not be long in cruces before my medicinal skill and knowledge were put to the test. before the passengers for panama had been many days gone, it was found that they had left one of their number behind them, and that one--the cholera. i believe that the faculty have not yet come to the conclusion that the cholera is contagious, and i am not presumptuous enough to forestall them; but my people have always considered it to be so, and the poor cruces folks did not hesitate to say that this new and terrible plague had been a fellow-traveller with the americans from new orleans or some other of its favoured haunts. i had the first intimation of its unwelcome presence in the following abrupt and unpleasant manner:-- a spaniard, an old and intimate friend of my brother, had supped with him one evening, and upon returning home had been taken ill, and after a short period of intense suffering had died. so sudden and so mysterious a death gave rise to the rumour that he had been poisoned, and suspicion rested for a time, perhaps not unnaturally, upon my brother, in whose company the dead man had last been. anxious for many reasons--the chief one, perhaps, the position of my brother--i went down to see the corpse. a single glance at the poor fellow showed me the terrible truth. the distressed face, sunken eyes, cramped limbs, and discoloured shrivelled skin were all symptoms which i had been familiar with very recently; and at once i pronounced the cause of death to be cholera. the cruces people were mightily angry with me for expressing such an opinion; even my brother, although it relieved him of the odium of a great crime, was as annoyed as the rest. but by twelve o'clock that morning one of the spaniard's friends was attacked similarly, and the very people who had been most angry with me a few hours previously, came to me now eager for advice. there was no doctor in cruces; the nearest approach to one was a little timid dentist, who was there by accident, and who refused to prescribe for the sufferer, and i was obliged to do my best. selecting from my medicine chest--i never travel anywhere without it--what i deemed necessary, i went hastily to the patient, and at once adopted the remedies i considered fit. it was a very obstinate case, but by dint of mustard emetics, warm fomentations, mustard plasters on the stomach and the back, and calomel, at first in large then in gradually smaller doses, i succeeded in saving my first cholera patient in cruces. for a few days the terrible disease made such slow progress amongst us that we almost hoped it had passed on its way and spared us; but all at once it spread rapidly, and affrighted faces and cries of woe soon showed how fatally the destroyer was at work. and in so great request were my services, that for days and nights together i scarcely knew what it was to enjoy two successive hours' rest. and here i must pause to set myself right with my kind reader. he or she will not, i hope, think that, in narrating these incidents, i am exalting my poor part in them unduly. i do not deny (it is the only thing indeed that i have to be proud of) that i _am_ pleased and gratified when i look back upon my past life, and see times now and then, and places here and there, when and where i have been enabled to benefit my fellow-creatures suffering from ills my skill could often remedy. nor do i think that the kind reader will consider this feeling an unworthy one. if it be so, and if, in the following pages, the account of what providence has given me strength to do on larger fields of action be considered vain or egotistical, still i cannot help narrating them, for my share in them appears to be the one and only claim i have to interest the public ear. moreover i shall be sadly disappointed, if those years of life which may be still in store for me are not permitted by providence to be devoted to similar usefulness. i am not ashamed to confess--for the gratification is, after all, a selfish one--that i love to be of service to those who need a woman's help. and wherever the need arises--on whatever distant shore--i ask no greater or higher privilege than to minister to it. after this explanation, i resume more freely the account of my labours in cruces. it was scarcely surprising that the cholera should spread rapidly, for fear is its powerful auxiliary, and the cruces people bowed down before the plague in slavish despair. the americans and other foreigners in the place showed a brave front, but the natives, constitutionally cowardly, made not the feeblest show of resistance. beyond filling the poor church, and making the priests bring out into the streets figures of tawdry dirty saints, supposed to possess some miraculous influence which they never exerted, before which they prostrated themselves, invoking their aid with passionate prayers and cries, they did nothing. very likely the saints would have got the credit of helping them if they had helped themselves; but the poor cowards never stirred a finger to clean out their close, reeking huts, or rid the damp streets of the rotting accumulation of months. i think their chief reliance was on "the yellow woman from jamaica with the cholera medicine." nor was this surprising; for the spanish doctor, who was sent for from panama, became nervous and frightened at the horrors around him, and the people soon saw that he was not familiar with the terrible disease he was called upon to do battle with, and preferred trusting to one who was. it must be understood that many of those who could afford to pay for my services did so handsomely, but the great majority of my patients had nothing better to give their doctress than thanks. the best part of my practice lay amongst the american store and hotel keepers, the worst among the native boatmen and muleteers. these latter died by scores, and among them i saw some scenes of horror i would fain forget, if it were possible. one terrible night, passed with some of them, has often haunted me. i will endeavour to narrate it, and should the reader be supposed to think it highly coloured and doubtful, i will only tell him that, terrible as it seems, i saw almost as fearful scenes on the crimean peninsula among british men, a few thousand miles only from comfort and plenty. it was late in the evening when the largest mule-owner in cruces came to me and implored me to accompany him to his kraal, a short distance from the town, where he said some of his men were dying. one in particular, his head muleteer, a very valuable servant, he was most selfishly anxious for, and, on the way thither, promised me a large remuneration if i should succeed in saving him. our journey was not a long one, but it rained hard, and the fields were flooded, so that it took us some time to reach the long, low hut which he called his home. i would rather not see such another scene as the interior of that hut presented. its roof scarcely sheltered its wretched inmates from the searching rain; its floor was the damp, rank turf, trodden by the mules' hoofs and the muleteers' feet into thick mud. around, in dirty hammocks, and on the damp floor, were the inmates of this wretched place, male and female, the strong and the sick together, breathing air that nearly choked me, accustomed as i had grown to live in impure atmosphere; for beneath the same roof the mules, more valuable to their master than his human servants, were stabled, their fore-feet locked, and beside them were heaps of saddles, packs, and harness. the groans of the sufferers and the anxiety and fear of their comrades were so painful to hear and witness, that for a few minutes i felt an almost uncontrollable impulse to run out into the stormy night, and flee from this plague-spot. but the weak feeling vanished, and i set about my duty. the mule-owner was so frightened that he did not hesitate to obey orders, and, by my directions, doors and shutters were thrown open, fires were lighted, and every effort made to ventilate the place; and then, with the aid of the frightened women, i applied myself to my poor patients. two were beyond my skill. death alone could give them relief. the others i could help. but no words of mine could induce them to bear their terrible sufferings like men. they screamed and groaned, not like women, for few would have been so craven-hearted, but like children; calling, in the intervals of violent pain, upon jesu, the madonna, and all the saints of heaven whom their lives had scandalised. i stayed with them until midnight, and then got away for a little time. but i had not long been quiet, before the mule-master was after me again. the men were worse; would i return with him. the rain was drifting heavily on the thatched roof, as it only does in tropical climates, and i was tired to death; but i could not resist his appeal. he had brought with him a pair of tall, thick boots, in which i was to wade through the flooded fields; and with some difficulty i again reached the kraal. i found the worst cases sinking fast, one of the others had relapsed, while fear had paralysed the efforts of the rest. at last i restored some order; and, with the help of the bravest of the women, fixed up rude screens around the dying men. but no screens could shut out from the others their awful groans and cries for the aid that no mortal power could give them. so the long night passed away; first a deathlike stillness behind one screen, and then a sudden silence behind the other, showing that the fierce battle with death was over, and who had been the victor. and, meanwhile, i sat before the flickering fire, with my last patient in my lap--a poor, little, brown-faced orphan infant, scarce a year old, was dying in my arms, and i was powerless to save it. it may seem strange, but it is a fact, that i thought more of that little child than i did of the men who were struggling for their lives, and prayed very earnestly and solemnly to god to spare it. but it did not please him to grant my prayer, and towards morning the wee spirit left this sinful world for the home above it had so lately left, and what was mortal of the little infant lay dead in my arms. then it was that i began to think--how the idea first arose in my mind i can hardly say--that, if it were possible to take this little child and examine it, i should learn more of the terrible disease which was sparing neither young nor old, and should know better how to do battle with it. i was not afraid to use my baby patient thus. i knew its fled spirit would not reproach me, for i had done all i could for it in life--had shed tears over it, and prayed for it. it was cold grey dawn, and the rain had ceased, when i followed the man who had taken the dead child away to bury it, and bribed him to carry it by an unfrequented path down to the river-side, and accompany me to the thick retired bush on the opposite bank. having persuaded him thus much, it was not difficult, with the help of silver arguments to convince him that it would be for the general benefit and his own, if i could learn from this poor little thing the secret inner workings of our common foe; and ultimately he stayed by me, and aided me in my first and last _post mortem_ examination. it seems a strange deed to accomplish, and i am sure i could not wield the scalpel or the substitute i then used now, but at that time the excitement had strung my mind up to a high pitch of courage and determination; and perhaps the daily, almost hourly, scenes of death had made me somewhat callous. i need not linger on this scene, nor give the readers the results of my operation; although novel to me, and decidedly useful, they were what every medical man well knows. we buried the poor little body beneath a piece of luxuriant turf, and stole back into cruces like guilty things. but the knowledge i had obtained thus strangely was very valuable to me, and was soon put into practice. but that i dreaded boring my readers, i would fain give them some idea of my treatment of this terrible disease. i have no doubt that at first i made some lamentable blunders, and, may be, lost patients which a little later i could have saved. i know i came across, the other day, some notes of cholera medicines which made me shudder, and i dare say they have been used in their turn and found wanting. the simplest remedies were perhaps the best. mustard plasters, and emetics, and calomel; the mercury applied externally, where the veins were nearest the surface, were my usual resources. opium i rather dreaded, as its effect is to incapacitate the system from making any exertion, and it lulls the patient into a sleep which is often the sleep of death. when my patients felt thirsty, i would give them water in which cinnamon had been boiled. one stubborn attack succumbed to an additional dose of ten grains of sugar of lead, mixed in a pint of water, given in doses of a table-spoonful every quarter of an hour. another patient, a girl, i rubbed over with warm oil, camphor, and spirits of wine. above all, i never neglected to apply mustard poultices to the stomach, spine, and neck, and particularly to keep my patient warm about the region of the heart. nor did i relax my care when the disease had passed by, for danger did not cease when the great foe was beaten off. the patient was left prostrate; strengthening medicines had to be given cautiously, for fever, often of the brain, would follow. but, after all, one great conclusion, which my practice in cholera cases enabled me to come to, was the old one, that few constitutions permitted the use of exactly similar remedies, and that the course of treatment which saved one man, would, if persisted in, have very likely killed his brother. generally speaking, the cholera showed premonitory symptoms; such as giddiness, sickness, diarrhoea, or sunken eyes and distressed look; but sometimes the substance followed its forecoming shadow so quickly, and the crisis was so rapid, that there was no time to apply any remedies. an american carpenter complained of giddiness and sickness--warning signs--succeeded so quickly by the worst symptoms of cholera, that in less than an hour his face became of an indigo tint, his limbs were doubled up horribly with violent cramps, and he died. to the convicts--and if there could be grades of wretchedness in cruces, these poor creatures were the lowest--belonged the terrible task of burying the dead; a duty to which they showed the utmost repugnance. not unfrequently, at some fancied alarm, they would fling down their burden, until at last it became necessary to employ the soldiers to see that they discharged the task allotted to them. ordinarily, the victims were buried immediately after death, with such imperfect rites of sepulture as the harassed frightened priests would pay them, and very seldom was time afforded by the authorities to the survivors to pay those last offices to the departed which a spaniard and a catholic considers so important. once i was present at a terrible scene in the house of a new granada grandee, whose pride and poverty justified many of the old spanish proverbs levelled at his caste. it was when the cholera was at its height, and yet he had left--perhaps on important business--his wife and family, and gone to panama for three days. on the day after his departure, the plague broke out in his house, and my services were required promptly. i found the miserable household in terrible alarm, and yet confining their exertions to praying to a coarse black priest in a black surplice, who, kneeling beside the couch of the spanish lady, was praying (in his turn) to some favourite saint in cruces. the sufferer was a beautiful woman, suffering from a violent attack of cholera, with no one to help her, or even to take from her arms the poor little child they had allowed her to retain. in her intervals of comparative freedom from pain, her cries to the madonna and her husband were heartrending to hear. i had the greatest difficulty to rout the stupid priest and his as stupid worshippers, and do what i could for the sufferer. it was very little, and before long the unconscious spaniard was a widower. soon after, the authorities came for the body. i never saw such passionate anger and despair as were shown by her relatives and servants, old and young, at the intrusion--rage that she, who had been so exalted in life, should go to her grave like the poor, poor clay she was. orders were given to bar the door against the convict gang who had come to discharge their unpleasant duty, and while all were busy decking out the unconscious corpse in gayest attire, none paid any heed to me bending over the fire with the motherless child, journeying fast to join its dead parent. i had made more than one effort to escape, for i felt more sick and wretched than at any similar scene of woe; but finding exit impossible, i turned my back upon them, and attended to the dying child. nor did i heed their actions until i heard orders given to admit the burial party, and then i found that they had dressed the corpse in rich white satin, and decked her head with flowers. the agitation and excitement of this scene had affected me as no previous horror had done, and i could not help fancying that symptoms were showing themselves in me with which i was familiar enough in others. leaving the dying infant to the care of its relatives (when the spaniard returned he found himself widowed and childless), i hastened to my brother's house. when there, i felt an unpleasant chill come over me, and went to bed at once. other symptoms followed quickly, and, before nightfall, i knew full well that my turn had come at last, and that the cholera had attacked me, perhaps its greatest foe in cruces. chapter v. american sympathy--i take an hotel in cruces--my customers--lola montes--miss hayes and the bishop--gambling in cruces--quarrels amongst the travellers--new granada military--the thieves of cruces--a narrow escape. when it became known that their "yellow doctress" had the cholera, i must do the people of cruces the justice to say that they gave her plenty of sympathy, and would have shown their regard for her more actively, had there been any occasion. indeed, when i most wanted quiet, it was difficult to keep out the sympathising americans and sorrowing natives who came to inquire after me; and who, not content with making their inquiries, and leaving their offerings of blankets, flannel, etc., must see with their own eyes what chance the yellow woman had of recovery. the rickety door of my little room could never be kept shut for many minutes together. a visitor would open it silently, poke his long face in with an expression of sympathy that almost made me laugh in spite of my pain, draw it out again, between the narrowest possible opening, as if he were anxious to admit as little air as he could; while another would come in bodily, and after looking at me curiously and inquisitively, as he would eye a horse or nigger he had some thoughts of making a bid for, would help to carpet my room, with the result perhaps of his meditations, and saying, gravely, "air you better, aunty seacole, now? isn't there a something we can du for you, ma'am?" would as gravely give place to another and another yet, until i was almost inclined to throw something at them, or call them bad names, like the scotch king does the ghosts in the play.[a] but, fortunately, the attack was a very mild one, and by the next day all danger had gone by, although i still felt weak and exhausted. after a few weeks, the first force of the cholera was spent, and although it lingered with us, as though loath to leave so fine a resting-place, for some months, it no longer gave us much alarm; and before long, life went on as briskly and selfishly as ever with the cruces survivors, and the terrible past was conveniently forgotten. perhaps it is so everywhere; but the haste with which the cruces people buried their memory seemed indecent. old houses found new masters; the mules new drivers; the great spaniard chose another pretty woman, and had a grand, poor, dirty wedding, and was married by the same lazy black priest who had buried his wife, dead a few months back; and very likely they would all have hastened as quickly to forget their doctress, had circumstances permitted them: but every now and then one of them sickened and died of the old complaint; and the reputation i had established founded for me a considerable practice. the americans in the place gladly retained me as their medical attendant, and in one way or other gave me plenty to do; but, in addition to this, i determined to follow my original scheme of keeping an hotel in cruces. right opposite my brother's independent hotel there was a place to let which it was considered i could adapt to my purpose. it was a mere tumble-down hut, with wattled sides, and a rotten thatched roof, containing two rooms, one small enough to serve as a bedroom. for this charming residence--very openly situated, and well ventilated--twenty pounds a month was considered a fair and by no means exorbitant rent. and yet i was glad to take possession of it; and in a few days had hung its rude walls with calico of gayest colour in stripes, with an exuberance of fringes, frills, and bows (the americans love show dearly), and prepared it to accommodate fifty dinner guests. i had determined that it should be simply a _table d'hôte_, and that i would receive no lodgers. once, and once only, i relaxed this rule in favour of two american women, who sent me to sleep by a lengthy quarrel of words, woke me in the night to witness its crisis in a fisticuff _duello_, and left in the morning, after having taken a fancy to some of my moveables which were most easily removeable. i had on my staff my black servant mac, the little girl i have before alluded to, and a native cook. i had had many opportunities of seeing how my brother conducted his business; and adopted his tariff of charges. for an ordinary dinner my charge was four shillings; eggs and chickens were, as i have before said, distinct luxuries, and fetched high prices. four crowds generally passed through cruces every month. in these were to be found passengers to and from chili, peru, and lima, as well as california and america. the distance from cruces to panama was not great--only twenty miles, in fact; but the journey, from the want of roads and the roughness of the country, was a most fatiguing one. in some parts--as i found when i made the journey, in company with my brother--it was almost impassable; and for more than half the distance, three miles an hour was considered splendid progress. the great majority of the travellers were rough, rude men, of dirty, quarrelsome habits; the others were more civilized and more dangerous. and it was not long before i grew very tired of life in cruces, although i made money rapidly, and pressed my brother to return to kingston. poor fellow! it would have been well for him had he done so; for he stayed only to find a grave on the isthmus of panama. the company at my _table d'hôte_ was not over select; and it was often very difficult for an unprotected female to manage them, although i always did my best to put them in good humour. among other comforts, i used to hire a black barber, for the rather large consideration of two pounds, to shave my male guests. you can scarcely conceive the pleasure and comfort an american feels in a clean chin; and i believe my barber attracted considerable custom to the british hotel at cruces. i had a little out-house erected for his especial convenience; and there, well provided with towels, and armed with plenty of razors, a brush of extraordinary size, and a foaming sea of lather, josé shaved the new-comers. the rivalry to get within reach of his huge brush was very great; and the threats used by the neglected, when the grinning black was considered guilty of any interested partiality, were of the fiercest description. this duty over, they and their coarser female companions--many of them well known to us, for they travelled backwards and forwards across the isthmus, hanging on to the foolish gold-finders--attacked the dinner, very often with great lack of decency. it was no use giving them carving-knives and forks, for very often they laid their own down to insert a dirty hairy hand into a full dish; while the floor soon bore evidences of the great national american habit of expectoration. very often quarrels would arise during the progress of dinner; and more than once i thought the knives, which they nearly swallowed at every mouthful, would have been turned against one another. it was, i always thought, extremely fortunate that the reckless men rarely stimulated their excitable passions with strong drink. tea and coffee were the common beverages of the americans; englishmen, and men of other nations, being generally distinguishable by their demand for wine and spirits. but the yankee's capacity for swilling tea and coffee was prodigious. i saw one man drink ten cups of coffee; and finding his appetite still unsatisfied, i ran across to my brother for advice. there was a merry twinkle in his eyes as he whispered, "i always put in a good spoonful of salt after the sixth cup. it chokes them off admirably." it was no easy thing to avoid being robbed and cheated by the less scrupulous travellers; although i think it was only the 'cutest yankee who stood any fair chance of outwitting me. i remember an instance of the biter bit, which i will narrate, hoping it may make my reader laugh as heartily as its recollection makes me. he was a tall, thin yankee, with a furtive glance of the eyes, and an amazing appetite, which he seemed nothing loath to indulge: his appetite for eggs especially seemed unbounded. now, i have more than once said how expensive eggs were; and this day they happened to be eightpence apiece. our plan was to charge every diner according to the number of shells found upon his plate. now, i noticed how eagerly my thin guest attacked my eggs, and marvelled somewhat at the scanty pile of shells before him. my suspicions once excited, i soon fathomed my yankee friend's dodge. as soon as he had devoured the eggs, he conveyed furtively the shells beneath the table, and distributed them impartially at the feet of his companions. i gave my little black maid a piece of chalk, and instructions; and creeping under the table, she counted the scattered shells, and chalked the number on the tail of his coat. and when he came up to pay his score, he gave up his number of eggs in a loud voice; and when i contradicted him, and referred to the coat-_tale_ in corroboration of _my_ score, there was a general laugh against him. but there was a nasty expression in his cat-like eyes, and an unpleasant allusion to mine, which were not agreeable, and dissuaded me from playing any more practical jokes upon the yankees. i followed my brother's example closely, and forbade all gambling in my hotel. but i got some idea of its fruits from the cases brought to me for surgical treatment from the faro and monte tables. gambling at cruces, and on the isthmus generally, was a business by which money was wormed out of the gold-seekers and gold-finders. no attempt was made to render it attractive, as i have seen done elsewhere. the gambling-house was often plainer than our hotels; and but for the green tables, with their piles of money and gold-dust, watched over by a well-armed determined banker, and the eager gamblers around, you would not know that you were in the vicinity of a spot which the english at home designate by a very decided and extreme name. a dr. casey--everybody familiar with the americans knows their fondness for titles--owned the most favoured table in cruces; and this, although he was known to be a reckless and unscrupulous villain. most of them knew that he had been hunted out of san francisco; and at that time--years before the vigilance committee commenced their labours of purification--a man too bad for that city must have been a prodigy of crime: and yet, and although he was violent-tempered, and had a knack of referring the slightest dispute to his revolver, his table was always crowded; probably because--the greatest rogues have some good qualities--he was honest in his way, and played fairly. occasionally some distinguished passengers passed on the upward and downward tides of rascality and ruffianism, that swept periodically through cruces. came one day, lola montes, in the full zenith of her evil fame, bound for california, with a strange suite. a good-looking, bold woman, with fine, bad eyes, and a determined bearing; dressed ostentatiously in perfect male attire, with shirt-collar turned down over a velvet lapelled coat, richly worked shirt-front, black hat, french unmentionables, and natty, polished boots with spurs. she carried in her hand a handsome riding-whip, which she could use as well in the streets of cruces as in the towns of europe; for an impertinent american, presuming--perhaps not unnaturally--upon her reputation, laid hold jestingly of the tails of her long coat, and as a lesson received a cut across his face that must have marked him for some days. i did not wait to see the row that followed, and was glad when the wretched woman rode off on the following morning. a very different notoriety followed her at some interval of time--miss catherine hayes, on her successful singing tour, who disappointed us all by refusing to sing at cruces; and after her came an english bishop from australia, who need have been a member of the church militant to secure his pretty wife from the host of admirers she had gained during her day's journey from panama. very quarrelsome were the majority of the crowds, holding life cheap, as all bad men strangely do--equally prepared to take or lose it upon the slightest provocation. few tales of horror in panama could be questioned on the ground of improbability. not less partial were many of the natives of cruces to the use of the knife; preferring, by the way, to administer sly stabs in the back, when no one was by to see the dastard blow dealt. terribly bullied by the americans were the boatmen and muleteers, who were reviled, shot, and stabbed by these free and independent filibusters, who would fain whop all creation abroad as they do their slaves at home. whenever any englishmen were present, and in a position to interfere with success, this bullying was checked; and they found, instead of the poor spanish indians, foemen worthy of their steel or lead. i must do them credit to say, that they were never loath to fight any one that desired that passing excitement, and thought little of ending their journey of life abruptly at the wretched wayside town of cruces. it very often happened so, and over many a hasty head and ready hand have i seen the sod roughly pressed down, their hot hearts stilled suddenly in some senseless quarrel. and so in time i grew to have some considerable experience in the treatment of knife and gun-shot wounds. one night i heard a great noise outside my window, and on rising found a poor boatman moaning piteously, and in a strange jumble of many languages begging me to help him. at first i was afraid to open the door, on account of the noisy mob which soon joined him, for villainy was very shrewd at cruces; but at last i admitted him, and found that the poor wretch's ears had been cruelly split by some hasty citizen of the united states. i stitched them up as well as i could, and silenced his cries. and at any time, if you happened to be near the river when a crowd were arriving or departing, your ears would be regaled with a choice chorus of threats, of which ear-splitting, eye-gouging, cow-hiding, and the application of revolvers were the mildest. against the negroes, of whom there were many in the isthmus, and who almost invariably filled the municipal offices, and took the lead in every way, the yankees had a strong prejudice; but it was wonderful to see how freedom and equality elevate men, and the same negro who perhaps in tennessee would have cowered like a beaten child or dog beneath an american's uplifted hand, would face him boldly here, and by equal courage and superior physical strength cow his old oppressor. when more than ordinary squabbles occurred in the street or at the gambling-tables, the assistance of the soldier-police of new granada was called in, and the affair sometimes assumed the character of a regular skirmish. the soldiers--i wish i could speak better of them--were a dirty, cowardly, indolent set, more prone to use their knives than their legitimate arms, and bore old rusty muskets, and very often marched unshod. their officers were in outward appearance a few shades superior to the men they commanded, but, as respects military proficiency, were their equals. add to this description of their _personnel_ the well-known fact, that you might commit the grossest injustice, and could obtain the simplest justice only by lavish bribery, and you may form some idea of our military protectors. very practised and skilful in thieving were the native population of cruces--i speak of the majority, and except the negroes--always more inclined to do a dishonest night's labour at great risk, than an honest day's work for fair wages; for justice was always administered strictly to the poor natives--it was only the foreigners who could evade it or purchase exemption. punishment was severe; and in extreme cases the convicts were sent to carthagena, there to suffer imprisonment of a terrible character. indeed, from what i heard of the new granada prisons, i thought no other country could match them, and continued to think so until i read how the ingenuity in cruelty of his majesty the king of naples put the torturers of the new granada republic to the blush. i generally avoided claiming the protection of the law whilst on the isthmus, for i found it was--as is the case in civilized england from other causes--rather an expensive luxury. once only i took a thief caught in the act before the alcalde, and claimed the administration of justice. the court-house was a low bamboo shed, before which some dirty spanish-indian soldiers were lounging; and inside, the alcalde, a negro, was reclining in a dirty hammock, smoking coolly, hearing evidence, and pronouncing judgment upon the wretched culprits, who were trembling before his dusky majesty. i had attended him while suffering from an attack of cholera, and directly he saw me he rose from his hammock, and received me in a ceremonious, grand manner, and gave orders that coffee should be brought to me. he had a very pretty white wife, who joined us; and then the alcalde politely offered me a _cigarito_--having declined which, he listened to my statement with great attention. all this, however, did not prevent my leaving the necessary fee in furtherance of justice, nor his accepting it. its consequence was, that the thief, instead of being punished as a criminal, was ordered to pay me the value of the stolen goods; which, after weeks of hesitation and delay, she eventually did, in pearls, combs, and other curiosities. whenever an american was arrested by the new granada authorities, justice had a hard struggle for the mastery, and rarely obtained it. once i was present at the court-house, when an american was brought in heavily ironed, charged with having committed a highway robbery--if i may use the term where there were no roads--on some travellers from chili. around the frightened soldiers swelled an angry crowd of brother americans, abusing and threatening the authorities in no measured terms, all of them indignant that a nigger should presume to judge one of their countrymen. at last their violence so roused the sleepy alcalde, that he positively threw himself from his hammock, laid down his cigarito, and gave such very determined orders to his soldiers that he succeeded in checking the riot. then, with an air of decision that puzzled everybody, he addressed the crowd, declaring angrily, that since the americans came the country had known no peace, that robberies and crimes of every sort had increased, and ending by expressing his determination to make strangers respect the laws of the republic, and to retain the prisoner; and if found guilty, punish him as he deserved. the americans seemed too astonished at the audacity of the black man, who dared thus to beard them, to offer any resistance; but i believe that the prisoner was allowed ultimately to escape. i once had a narrow escape from the thieves of cruces. i had been down to chagres for some stores, and returning, late in the evening, too tired to put away my packages, had retired to rest at once. my little maid, who was not so fatigued as i was, and slept more lightly, woke me in the night to listen to a noise in the thatch, at the further end of the store; but i was so accustomed to hear the half-starved mules of cruces munching my thatch, that i listened lazily for a few minutes, and then went unsuspiciously into another heavy sleep. i do not know how long it was before i was again awoke by the child's loud screams and cries of "hombro--landro;" and sure enough, by the light of the dying fire, i saw a fellow stealing away with my dress, in the pocket of which was my purse. i was about to rush forward, when the fire gleamed on a villainous-looking knife in his hand; so i stood still, and screamed loudly, hoping to arouse my brother over the way. for a moment the thief seemed inclined to silence me, and had taken a few steps forward, when i took up an old rusty horse-pistol which my brother had given me that i might look determined, and snatching down the can of ground coffee, proceeded to prime it, still screaming as loudly as my strong lungs would permit, until the rascal turned tail and stole away through the roof. the thieves usually buried their spoil like dogs, as they were; but this fellow had only time to hide it behind a bush, where it was found on the following morning, and claimed by me. footnote: [a] mrs. seacole very likely refers to macbeth. but it was the witches he abused.--ed. chapter vi. migration to gorgona--farewell dinners and speeches--a building speculation--life in gorgona--sympathy with american slaves--dr. casey in trouble--floods and fires--yankee independence and freedom. i remained at cruces until the rainy months came to an end, and the river grew too shallow to be navigable by the boats higher up than gorgona; and then we all made preparations for a flitting to that place. but before starting, it appeared to be the custom for the store and hotel keepers to exchange parting visits, and to many of these parties i, in virtue of my recent services to the community, received invitations. the most important social meeting took place on the anniversary of the declaration of american independence, at my brother's hotel, where a score of zealous americans dined most heartily--as they never fail to do; and, as it was an especial occasion, drank champagne liberally at twelve shillings a bottle. and, after the usual patriotic toasts had been duly honoured, they proposed "the ladies," with an especial reference to myself, in a speech which i thought worth noting down at the time. the spokesman was a thin, sallow-looking american, with a pompous and yet rapid delivery, and a habit of turning over his words with his quid before delivering them, and clearing his mouth after each sentence, perhaps to make room for the next. i shall beg the reader to consider that the blanks express the time expended on this operation. he dashed into his work at once, rolling up and getting rid of his sentences as he went on:-- "well, gentlemen, i expect you'll all support me in a drinking of this toast that i du----. aunty seacole, gentlemen; i give you, aunty seacole----. we can't du less for her, after what she's done for us----, when the cholera was among us, gentlemen----, not many months ago----. so, i say, god bless the best yaller woman he ever made----, from jamaica, gentlemen----, from the isle of springs----well, gentlemen, i expect there are only tu things we're vexed for----; and the first is, that she ain't one of us----, a citizen of the great united states----; and the other thing is, gentlemen----, that providence made her a yaller woman. i calculate, gentlemen, you're all as vexed as i am that she's not wholly white----, but i du reckon on your rejoicing with me that she's so many shades removed from being entirely black----; and i guess, if we could bleach her by any means we would----, and thus make her as acceptable in any company as she deserves to be----. gentlemen, i give you aunty seacole!" and so the orator sat down amidst much applause. it may be supposed that i did not need much persuasion to return thanks, burning, as i was, to tell them my mind on the subject of my colour. indeed, if my brother had not checked me, i should have given them my thoughts somewhat too freely. as it was, i said:-- "gentlemen,--i return you my best thanks for your kindness in drinking my health. as for what i have done in cruces, providence evidently made me to be useful, and i can't help it. but, i must say, that i don't altogether appreciate your friend's kind wishes with respect to my complexion. if it had been as dark as any nigger's, i should have been just as happy and as useful, and as much respected by those whose respect i value; and as to his offer of bleaching me, i should, even if it were practicable, decline it without any thanks. as to the society which the process might gain me admission into, all i can say is, that, judging from the specimens i have met with here and elsewhere, i don't think that i shall lose much by being excluded from it. so, gentlemen, i drink to you and the general reformation of american manners." i do not think that they altogether admired my speech, but i was a somewhat privileged person, and they laughed at it good-naturedly enough. perhaps (for i was not in the best humour myself) i should have been better pleased if they had been angry. rightly, i ought to have gone down to gorgona a few weeks before cruces was deserted, and secured an hotel; but i did not give up all hope of persuading my brother to leave the isthmus until the very last moment, and then, of course, a suitable house was not to be hired in gorgona for love or money. seeing his fixed determination to stay, i consented to remain with him, for he was young and often ill, and set hard to work to settle myself somewhere. with the aid of an old jamaica friend, who had settled at gorgona, i at last found a miserable little hut for sale, and bought it for a hundred dollars. it consisted of one room only, and was, in its then condition, utterly unfit for my purpose; but i determined to set to work and build on to it--by no means the hazardous speculation in gorgona, where bricks and mortar are unknown, that it is in england. the alcalde's permission to make use of the adjacent ground was obtained for a moderate consideration, and plenty of material was procurable from the opposite bank of the river. an american, whom i had cured of the cholera at cruces, lent me his boat, and i hired two or three natives to cut down and shape the posts and bamboo poles. directly these were raised, mac and my little maid set to work and filled up the spaces between them with split bamboo canes and reeds, and before long my new hotel was ready to be roofed. the building process was simple enough, and i soon found myself in possession of a capital dining-room some thirty feet in length, which was gaily hung with coloured calico, concealing all defects of construction, and lighted with large oil lamps; a store-room, bar, and a small private apartment for ladies. altogether, although i had to pay my labourers four shillings a day, the whole building did not cost me more than my brother paid for three months' rent of his hotel. i gave the travelling world to understand that i intended to devote my establishment principally to the entertainment of ladies, and the care of those who might fall ill on the route, and i found the scheme answered admirably. and yet, although the speculation paid well, i soon grew as weary of my life in gorgona as i had been at cruces; and when i found my brother proof against all persuasion to quit the isthmus, i began to entertain serious thoughts of leaving him. nor was it altogether my old roving inclination which led me to desire a change, although i dare say it had something to do with it. my present life was not agreeable for a woman with the least delicacy or refinement; and of female society i had none. indeed, the females who crossed my path were about as unpleasant specimens of the fair sex as one could well wish to avoid. with very few exceptions, those who were not bad were very disagreeable, and as the majority came from the southern states of america, and showed an instinctive repugnance against any one whose countenance claimed for her kindred with their slaves, my position was far from a pleasant one. not that it ever gave me any annoyance; they were glad of my stores and comforts, i made money out of their wants; nor do i think our bond of connection was ever closer; only this, if any of them came to me sick and suffering (i say this out of simple justice to myself), i forgot everything, except that she was my sister, and that it was my duty to help her. i may have before said that the citizens of the new granada republic had a strong prejudice against all americans. it is not difficult to assign a cause for this. in the first place, many of the negroes, fugitive from the southern states, had sought refuge in this and the other states of central america, where every profession was open to them; and as they were generally superior men--evinced perhaps by their hatred of their old condition and their successful flight--they soon rose to positions of eminence in new granada. in the priesthood, in the army, in all municipal offices, the self-liberated negroes were invariably found in the foremost rank; and the people, for some reason--perhaps because they recognised in them superior talents for administration--always respected them more than, and preferred them to, their native rulers. so that, influenced naturally by these freed slaves, who bore themselves before their old masters bravely and like men, the new granada people were strongly prejudiced against the americans. and in the second and third places, they feared their quarrelsome, bullying habits--be it remembered that the crowds to california were of the lowest sorts, many of whom have since fertilised cuban and nicaraguan soil--and dreaded their schemes for annexation. to such an extent was this amusingly carried, that when the american railway company took possession of navy bay, and christened it aspinwall, after the name of their chairman, the native authorities refused to recognise their right to name any portion of the republic, and pertinaciously returned all letters directed to aspinwall, with "no such place known" marked upon them in the very spot for which they were intended. and, in addition to this, the legal authorities refused to compel any defendant to appear who was described as of aspinwall, and put every plaintiff out of court who described himself as residing in that unrecognised place. under these circumstances, my readers can easily understand that when any americans crossed the isthmus, accompanied by their slaves, the cruces and gorgona people were restlessly anxious to whisper into their ears offers of freedom and hints how easy escape would be. nor were the authorities at all inclined to aid in the recapture of a runaway slave. so that, as it was necessary for the losers to go on with the crowd, the fugitive invariably escaped. it is one of the maxims of the new granada constitution--as it is, i believe, of the english--that on a slave touching its soil his chains fall from him. rather than irritate so dangerous a neighbour as america, this rule was rarely supported; but i remember the following instance of its successful application. a young american woman, whose character can be best described by the word "vicious," fell ill at gorgona, and was left behind by her companions under the charge of a young negro, her slave, whom she treated most inhumanly, as was evinced by the poor girl's frequent screams when under the lash. one night her cries were so distressing, that gorgona could stand it no longer, but broke into the house and found the chattel bound hand and foot, naked, and being severely lashed. despite the threats and astonishment of the mistress, they were both carried off on the following morning, before the alcalde, himself a man of colour, and of a very humane disposition. when the particulars of the case were laid before him, he became strongly excited, and called upon the woman to offer an explanation of her cruelty. she treated it with the coolest unconcern--"the girl was her property, worth so many dollars, and a child at new orleans; had misbehaved herself, and been properly corrected. the alcalde must be drunk or a fool, or both together, to interfere between an american and her property." her coolness vanished, however, when the alcalde turned round to the girl and told her that she was free to leave her mistress when she liked; and when she heard the irrepressible cheering of the crowded court-hut at the alcalde's humanity and boldness, and saw the slave's face flush with delight at the judge's words, she became terribly enraged; made use of the most fearful threats, and would have wreaked summary vengeance on her late chattel had not the clumsy soldiery interfered. then, with demoniac refinement of cruelty, she bethought herself of the girl's baby at new orleans still in her power, and threatened most horrible torture to the child if its mother dared to accept the alcalde's offer. the poor girl trembled and covered her face with her hands, as though to shut out some fearful sight, and, i think, had we not persuaded her to the contrary, that she would have sacrificed her newly won freedom for the child's sake. but we knew very well that when the heat of passion had subsided, the threatener would be too 'cute to injure her own property; and at once set afloat a subscription for the purchase of the child. the issue of the tale i do not know, as the woman was very properly removed into the interior of the country. life at gorgona resembled life at cruces so nearly that it does not need a separate description. down with the store and hotel keepers came the muleteers and mules, porters and hangers-on, idlers and thieves, gamblers and dancing women; and soon the monte-tables were fitted up, and plying their deadly trade; and the dancers charmed the susceptible travellers as successfully in the dirty streets of gorgona as they had previously done in the unwholesome precincts of cruces. and dr. casey was very nearly getting himself into serious trouble, from too great a readiness to use his revolver. still, he had a better excuse for bloodshed this time than might have been found for his previous breaches of the sixth commandment. among the desperadoes who frequented his gambling-hut, during their short stay in gorgona, was conceived the desperate plan of putting out the lights, and upsetting casey's table--trusting in the confusion to carry off the piles of money upon it. the first part of their programme was successfully carried out; but the second was frustrated by the doctor promptly firing his revolver into the dark, and hitting an unoffending boy in the hip. and at this crisis the gorgona police entered, carried off all the parties they could lay hands upon (including the doctor) to prison, and brought the wounded boy to me. on the following morning came a most urgent request that i would visit the imprisoned doctor. i found him desperately angry, but somewhat nervous too, for the alcalde was known to be no friend to the americans, owed casey more than one grudge, and had shown recently a disposition to enforce the laws. "i say, mrs. seacole, how's that ---- boy?" "oh, dr. casey, how could you shoot the poor lad, and now call him bad names, as though he'd injured you? he is very ill indeed--may die; so i advise you to think seriously of your position." "but, madame seacole," (this in a very altered tone), "_you'll_ surely help me? _you'll_ surely tell the alcalde that the wound's a slight one? he's a friend of yours, and will let me out of this hole. come, madame seacole, you'll never leave me to be murdered by these bloodthirsty savages?" "what can i do or say, dr. casey? i must speak the truth, and the ball is still in the poor lad's hip," i answered, for i enjoyed the fellow's fear too much to help him. however, he sent some of his friends to the boy's father, and bribed him to take the lad from my care, and send him to navy bay, to a surgeon there. of course, he never returned to prosecute dr. casey; and he was left with the alcalde only to deal with, who, although he hated the man, could not resist his money, and so set him free. gorgona lying lower than cruces, its inhabitants more frequently enjoyed the excitement of a flood. after heavy rains, the river would rise so rapidly that in a few hours the chief part of the place would be under water. on such occasions the scene was unusually exciting. as the water crept up the street, the frightened householders kept removing their goods and furniture to higher ground; while here and there, where the waters had surrounded them unawares, boats were sent to their rescue. the houses, not made to resist much wind or water, often gave way, and were carried down the chagres. meanwhile, the thieves were the busiest--the honest folks, forgetting the true old adage, "god helps those who help themselves," confining their exertions to bringing down their favourite saints to the water's edge, and invoking their interposition. fortunately my hotel was at the upper end of the town, where the floods had been rarely known to extend; and although there was a sufficient chance of the water reaching me to compel me to have all my stores, etc., ready packed for removal, i escaped. some distressing losses occurred. a frenchman, a near neighbour, whose house was surrounded by the waters before he could remove his goods, grew so frantic at the loss, that he obstinately refused to quit his falling house; and some force had to be used before they could save his life. scarcely had the ravages of the last flood been repaired when fire marked gorgona for its prey. the conflagration began at a store by the river-side; but it spread rapidly, and before long all gorgona was in danger. the town happened to be very full that night, two crowds having met there, and there was great confusion; but at last the lazy soldier-police, aided by the americans, succeeded in pulling down some old crazy huts, and checking the fire's progress. the travellers were in sore plight, many of them being reduced to sleep upon their luggage, piled in the drenched streets. my hotel had some interesting inmates, for a poor young creature, borne in from one of the burning houses, became a mother during the night; and a stout little lassie opened its eyes upon this waesome world during the excitement and danger of a gorgona conflagration. shortly after this, tired to death of life in panama, i handed over my hotel to my brother, and returned to kingston. on the way thither i experienced another instance of american politeness, which i cannot help recording; first reminding my readers of what i have previously said of the character of the californian travellers. anxious to get home quickly, i took my passage in the first steamer that left navy bay--an american one; and late in the evening said farewell to the friends i had been staying with, and went on board. a very kind friend, an american merchant, doing a large business at navy bay, had tried hard to persuade me to delay my journey until the english company's steamer called; without, however, giving any good reasons for his wish. so, with mac and my little maid, i passed through the crowd of female passengers on deck, and sought the privacy of the saloon. before i had been long there, two ladies came to me, and in their cool, straightforward manner, questioned me. "where air you going?" "to kingston." "and how air you going?" "by sea." "don't be impertinent, yaller woman. by what conveyance air you going?" "by this steamer, of course. i've paid for my passage." they went away with this information; and in a short time eight or nine others came and surrounded me, asking the same questions. my answers--and i was very particular--raised quite a storm of uncomplimentary remarks. "guess a nigger woman don't go along with us in this saloon," said one. "i never travelled with a nigger yet, and i expect i shan't begin now," said another; while some children had taken my little servant mary in hand, and were practising on her the politenesses which their parents were favouring me with--only, as is the wont of children, they were crueller. i cannot help it if i shock my readers; but the _truth_ is, that one positively spat in poor little mary's frightened yellow face. at last an old american lady came to where i sat, and gave me some staid advice. "well, now, i tell you for your good, you'd better quit this, and not drive my people to extremities. if you do, you'll be sorry for it, i expect." thus harassed, i appealed to the stewardess--a tall sour-looking woman, flat and thin as a dressed-up broomstick. she asked me sundry questions as to how and when i had taken my passage; until, tired beyond all endurance, i said, "my good woman, put me anywhere--under a boat--in your store-room, so that i can get to kingston somehow." but the stewardess was not to be moved. "there's nowhere but the saloon, and you can't expect to stay with the white people, that's clear. flesh and blood can stand a good deal of aggravation; but not that. if the britishers is so took up with coloured people, that's their business; but it won't do here." this last remark was in answer to an englishman, whose advice to me was not to leave my seat for any of them. he made matters worse; until at last i lost my temper, and calling mac, bade him get my things together, and went up to the captain--a good honest man. he and some of the black crew and the black cook, who showed his teeth most viciously, were much annoyed. muttering about its being a custom of the country, the captain gave me an order upon the agent for the money i had paid; and so, at twelve o'clock at night, i was landed again upon the wharf of navy bay. my american friends were vastly annoyed, but not much surprised; and two days later, the english steamer, the "eagle," in charge of my old friend, captain b----, touched at navy bay, and carried me to kingston. chapter vii. the yellow fever in jamaica--my experience of death-bed scenes--i leave again for navy bay, and open a store there--i am attacked with the gold fever, and start for escribanos--life in the interior of the republic of new granada--a revolutionary conspiracy on a small scale--the dinner delicacies of escribanos--journey up the palmilla river--a few words on the present aspect of affairs on the isthmus of panama. i stayed in jamaica eight months out of the year , still remembered in the island for its suffering and gloom. i returned just in time to find my services, with many others, needful; for the yellow fever never made a more determined effort to exterminate the english in jamaica than it did in that dreadful year. so violent was the epidemic, that some of my people fell victims to its fury, a thing rarely heard of before. my house was full of sufferers--officers, their wives and children. very often they were borne in from the ships in the harbour--sometimes in a dying state, sometimes--after long and distressing struggles with the grim foe--to recover. habituated as i had become with death in its most harrowing forms, i found these scenes more difficult to bear than any i had previously borne a part in; and for this reason perhaps, that i had not only to cheer the death-bed of the sufferer, but, far more trying task, to soothe the passionate grief of wife or husband left behind. it was a terrible thing to see young people in the youth and bloom of life suddenly stricken down, not in battle with an enemy that threatened their country, but in vain contest with a climate that refused to adopt them. indeed, the mother country pays a dear price for the possession of her colonies. i think all who are familiar with the west indies will acknowledge that nature has been favourable to strangers in a few respects, and that one of these has been in instilling into the hearts of the creoles an affection for english people and an anxiety for their welfare, which shows itself warmest when they are sick and suffering. i can safely appeal on this point to any one who is acquainted with life in jamaica. another benefit has been conferred upon them by inclining the creoles to practise the healing art, and inducing them to seek out the simple remedies which are available for the terrible diseases by which foreigners are attacked, and which are found growing under the same circumstances which produce the ills they minister to. so true is it that beside the nettle ever grows the cure for its sting. i do not willingly care to dwell upon scenes of suffering and death, but it is with such scenes that my life's experience has made me most familiar, and it is impossible to avoid their description now and then; and here i would fain record, in humble spirit, my conclusions, drawn from the bearing of those whom i have now and then accompanied a little distance on their way into the valley of the shadow of death, on the awful and important question of religious feeling. death is always terrible--no one need be ashamed to fear it. how we bear it depends much upon our constitutions. i have seen some brave men, who have smiled at the cruellest amputation, die trembling like children; while others, whose lives have been spent in avoidance of the least danger or trouble, have drawn their last painful breath like heroes, striking at their foe to the last, robbing him of his victory, and making their defeat a triumph. but i cannot trace _all_ the peace and resignation which i have witnessed on many death-beds to temperament alone, although i believe it has much more to do with them than many teachers will allow. i have stood by receiving the last blessings of christians; and closing the eyes of those who had nothing to trust to but the mercy of a god who will be far more merciful to us than we are to one another; and i say decidedly that the christian's death is the glorious one, as is his life. you can never find a good man who is not a worker; he is no laggard in the race of life. three, two, or one score years of life have been to him a season of labour in his appointed sphere; and as the work of the hands earns for us sweet rest by night, so does the heart's labour of a lifetime make the repose of heaven acceptable. this is my experience; and i remember one death, of a man whom i grew to love in a few short weeks, the thought of which stirs my heart now, and has sustained me in seasons of great danger; for before that time, if i had never feared death, i had not learnt to meet him with a brave, smiling face, and this he taught me. i must not tell you his name, for his friends live yet, and have been kind to me in many ways. one of them we shall meet on crimean soil. he was a young surgeon, and as busy, light-hearted, and joyous as a good man should be; and when he fell ill they brought him to my house, where i nursed him, and grew fond of him--almost as fond as the poor lady his mother in england far away. for some time we thought him safe, but at last the most terrible symptoms of the cruel disease showed themselves, and he knew that he must die. his thoughts were never for himself, but for those he had to leave behind; all his pity was for them. it was trying to see his poor hands tremblingly penning the last few words of leave-taking--trying to see how piteously the poor worn heart longed to see once more the old familiar faces of the loved ones in unconscious happiness at home; and yet i had to support him while this sad task was effected, and to give him all the help i could. i think he had some fondness for me, or, perhaps, his kind heart feigned a feeling that he saw would give me joy; for i used to call him "my son--my dear child," and to weep over him in a very weak and silly manner perhaps. he sent for an old friend, captain s----; and when he came, i had to listen to the dictation of his simple will--his dog to one friend, his ring to another, his books to a third, his love and kind wishes to all; and that over, my poor son prepared himself to die--a child in all save a man's calm courage. he beckoned me to raise him in the bed, and, as i passed my arms around him, he saw the tears i could not repress, rolling down my brown cheeks, and thanked me with a few words. "let me lay my head upon your breast;" and so he rested, now and then speaking lowly to himself, "it's only that i miss my mother; but heaven's will be done." he repeated this many times, until the heaven he obeyed sent him in its mercy forgetfulness, and his thoughts no longer wandered to his earthly home. i heard glad words feebly uttered as i bent over him--words about "heaven--rest--rest"--a holy name many times repeated; and then with a smile and a stronger voice, "home! home!" and so in a little while my arms no longer held him. i have a little gold brooch with his hair in it now. i wonder what inducement could be strong enough to cause me to part with that memorial, sent me by his mother some months later, with the following letter:-- "my dear madam,--will you do me the favour to accept the enclosed trifle, in remembrance of that dear son whose last moments were soothed by your kindness, and as a mark of the gratitude of, my dear madam, "your ever sincere and obliged, "m---- s----." after this, i was sent for by the medical authorities to provide nurses for the sick at up-park camp, about a mile from kingston; and leaving some nurses and my sister at home, i went there and did my best; but it was little we could do to mitigate the severity of the epidemic. about eight months after my return to jamaica, it became necessary that some one should go to the isthmus of panama to wind up the affairs of my late hotel; and having another fit of restlessness, i prepared to return there myself. i found navy bay but little altered. it was evening when i arrived there; and my friend mr. h----, who came to meet me on the wharf, carefully piloted me through the wretched streets, giving me especial warning not to stumble over what looked like three long boxes, loosely covered with the _débris_ of a fallen house. they had such a peculiar look about them that i stopped to ask what they were, receiving an answer which revived all my former memories of darien life, "oh, they're only three irishmen killed in a row a week ago, whom it's nobody's business to bury." i went to gorgona, wound up the affairs of the hotel, and, before returning to navy bay, took the occasion of accompanying my brother to the town of panama. we did not go with the crowd, but rode alone on mules, taking with us three native guides on foot; and although the distance was not much over twenty miles, and we started at daybreak, we did not reach panama until nightfall. but far from being surprised at this, my chief wonder was that we ever succeeded in getting over the journey. through sand and mud, over hill and plain--through thick forests, deep gulleys, and over rapid streams, ran the track; the road sometimes being made of logs of wood laid transversely, with faggots stuffed between; while here and there we had to work our way through a tangled network of brushwood, and over broken rocks that seemed to have been piled together as stones for some giant's sling. we found panama an old-fashioned, irregular town, with queer stone houses, almost all of which had been turned by the traders into stores. on my return to navy bay--or colon, as the new granadans would have it called--i again opened a store, and stayed there for three months or so. i did not find that society had improved much in my absence; indeed, it appeared to have grown more lawless. endless quarrels, often resulting in bloodshed, took place between the strangers and the natives, and disturbed the peace of the town. once the spanish were incensed to such an extent, that they planned a general rising against the foreigners; and but for the opportune arrival of an english war-steamer, the consequences might have been terrible. the americans were well armed and ready; but the native population far outnumbered them. altogether, i was not sorry when an opportunity offered itself to do something at one of the stations of the new granada gold-mining company, escribanos, about seventy miles from navy bay. i made the journey there in a little vessel, all communication by land from navy bay being impossible, on account of the thick, dense forests, that would have resisted the attempts of an army to cut its way through them. as i was at this place for some months altogether, and as it was the only portion of my life devoted to gold-seeking, i shall make no apologies for endeavouring to describe the out-of-the-way village-life of new granada. escribanos is in the province of veraguas, in the state of new granada--information uninteresting enough, i have little doubt, to all but a very few of my readers. it lies near the mouth of a rivulet bearing that name, which, leaving the river belen, runs away to the sea on its own account, about a mile from the mouth of that river. it is a great neighbourhood for gold-mines; and about that time companies and private individuals were trying hard to turn them to good account. near it is the fort bowen mine, and several others; some yielding silver, others gold ore, in small quantities. others lie in the vicinity of the palmilla--another river, which discharges itself into the sea about ten miles from escribanos; and there were more eastward of it, near a similar river, the coquelet. legends were rife at that time, and they may be revived at no distant date, of the treasures to be found at cucuyo, zapetero, pananomé, and many other indian villages on their banks, which in times gone by had yielded up golden treasures to the old world. but at this time the yield of gold did not repay the labour and capital necessary to extract it from the quartz; and it can only prove successful if more economical methods can be discovered than those now used for that purpose. carlos alexander, the alcalde of escribanos, had made a good thing out of the gold mania. the mine had belonged to him; had been sold at a fine price, and, passing through several hands, had at last come into possession of the company who were now working it; its former owner settling down as ruler over the little community of two hundred souls that had collected at escribanos. he was a black man; was fond of talking of his early life in slavery, and how he had escaped; and possessed no ordinary intellect. he possessed, also, a house, which in england a well-bred hound would not have accepted as a kennel; a white wife, and a pretty daughter, with a whity-brown complexion and a pleasant name--juliana. of this mine mr. day--by whose invitation, when i saw him at navy bay, i went there--was at that time superintendent. he was a distant connection of my late husband, and treated me with great kindness. strangely enough, we met again in a far different part of the world, and became more closely connected. but i am anticipating. the major part of the population of escribanos, including even the women and children, worked at the mine. the labour was hard and disagreeable. i often used to watch them at their work; and would sometimes wander about by myself, thinking it possible that i might tumble across some gold in my rambles. and i once did come upon some heavy yellow material, that brought my heart into my mouth with that strange thrilling delight which all who have hunted for the precious metal understand so well. i think it was very wrong; but i kept the secret of the place from the alcalde and every one else, and filled some bottles with the precious dust, to carry down to navy bay. i did not go for some time; but when i did, one of my first visits was to a gold-buyer; and you can imagine my feelings when he coolly laughed, and told me it was some material (i forget its name) very like gold, but--valueless. the worst part of it was that, in my annoyance and shame, i threw all i had away, and among it some which i had reason to believe subsequently was genuine. the landing at escribanos was very difficult, and when the surf ran high, impossible; and i was once witness to a harrowing scene there. a little boat, manned by three sailors, grounded on a rock not far from shore, at a terrible season, when to reach it from the land was, after many attempts, found impossible. the hapless crew lingered on for two days, suffering cruelly from hunger and thirst, their cries ringing in our ears above the storm's pitiless fury. on the third day, two of them took to the sea, and were drowned; the third was not strong enough to leave the boat, and died in it. i did not stay long at escribanos, on my first visit, as the alcalde's guest; but, having made arrangements for a longer sojourn, i went back to navy bay, where i laid in a good stock of the stores i should have most use for, and returned to escribanos in safety. i remained there some months, pleased with the novelty of the life, and busy with schemes for seeking for--or, as the gold-diggers call it, prospecting for--other mines. the foreigners were just as troublesome in this little out-of-the-way place as they were, and are, in every other part of central america; and quarrels were as frequent in our little community as at cruces or navy bay. indeed, alexander had hard work to maintain peace in his small kingdom; and although ably seconded by mr. day, more than once american disregard of his sway was almost too strong for him. very often the few foreigners would quarrel among themselves; and once when they came to blows, and an irishman was stabbed by an american named campfield, the alcalde roused himself to punish the culprit. the native population were glad enough to have an american in their power; and when i heard alexander give his men instructions to shoot the culprit if he resisted, i started off to his hut, and reached it in time to prevent bloodshed. he was taken and kept in confinement; and soft-hearted juliana and i had enough to do to prevent his being made a stern example of. but we got him off for a fine of five hundred dollars. again the little community of escribanos was very near getting up a revolution against its constituted government--a very common amusement in central america. twelve sailors, deserters from an american ship, found their way there, and before long plotted to dethrone alexander, and take possession of the mine. mr. day gained information of their plan. the whole population of escribanos were roused and warned; and arming a score of the boldest natives, he surrounded the house in which they were, and captured the conspirators, who were too much taken by surprise to offer resistance, and sent them down to navy bay, there to be handed over to the government whose service they had left. of course, my medical skill did not rust for want of practice at escribanos. the place was not healthy, and strangers to the climate suffered severely. a surgeon himself, sent there by the west granada gold-mining company, was glad to throw _his_ physic to the dogs, and be cured in my way by mine; while i was fortunately able to nurse mr. day through a sharp attack of illness. in consequence of the difficulty of communication with navy bay, our fare was of the simplest at escribanos. it consisted mainly of salt meat, rice, and roasted indian corn. the native fare was not tempting, and some of their delicacies were absolutely disgusting. with what pleasure, for instance, could one foreign to their tastes and habits dine off a roasted monkey, whose grilled head bore a strong resemblance to a negro baby's? and yet the indians used to bring them to us for sale, strung on a stick. they were worse still stewed in soup, when it was positively frightful to dip your ladle in unsuspectingly, and bring up what closely resembled a brown baby's limb. i got on better with the parrots, and could agree with the "senorita, buono buono" with which the natives recommended them; and yet their flesh, what little there was of it, was very coarse and hard. nor did i always refuse to concede praise to a squirrel, if well cooked. but although the flesh of the iguana--another favourite dish--was white and tender as any chicken, i never could stomach it. these iguanas are immense green lizards, or rather moderate-sized crocodiles, sometimes three feet in length, but weighing generally about seven or eight pounds. the indians used to bring them down in boats, alive, on their backs, with their legs tied behind them; so that they had the most comical look of distress it is possible to imagine. the spanish indians have a proverb referring to an iguana so bound, the purport of which has slipped from my memory, but which shows the habit to be an old one. their eggs are highly prized, and their captors have a cruel habit of extracting these delicacies from them while alive, and roughly sewing up the wound, which i never could muster sufficient courage to witness. the rivers near escribanos were well stocked with crocodiles, the sea had its fair share of sharks, while on land you too often met with snakes and other venomous reptiles. the sting of some of them was very dangerous. one man, who was bitten when i was there, swelled to an enormous size, and bled even at the roots of his hair. the remedy of the natives appeared to be copious bleeding. before i left escribanos i made a journey, in company with a gentleman named little, my maid, and the alcalde's daughter, into the interior of the country, for a short distance, following the course of the palmilla river. this was for the purpose of prospecting a mine on that river, said to be obtainable at an easy price. its course was a very winding one; and we often had to leave the canoe and walk through the shallow waters, that every now and then interfered with our progress. as we progressed, little carefully sounded the channel of the river, with the view of ascertaining to what extent it was navigable. the tropical scenery was very grand; but i am afraid i only marked what was most curious in it--at least, that is foremost in my memory now. i know i wondered much what motive nature could have had in twisting the roots and branches of the trees into such strange fantastic contortions. i watched with unfailing interest the birds and animals we disturbed in our progress, from the huge peccary or wild boar, that went tearing through the brushwood, to the tiniest bright-hued bird that dashed like a flash of many-coloured fire before our eyes. and very much surprised was i when the indians stopped before a large tree, and on their making an incision in the bark with a matcheto (hatchet), there exuded a thick creamy liquid, which they wished me to taste, saying that this was the famous milk-tree. i needed some persuasion at first; but when i had tasted some upon a biscuit, i was so charmed with its flavour that i should soon have taken more than was good for me had not mr. little interfered with some judicious advice. we reached the mine, and brought back specimens of the quartz, some of which i have now. soon after this i left escribanos, and stopping but a short time at navy bay, came on direct to england. i had claims on a mining company which are still unsatisfied; i had to look after my share in the palmilla mine speculation; and, above all, i had long been troubled with a secret desire to embark in a very novel speculation, about which i have as yet said nothing to the reader. but before i finally leave the republic of new granada, i may be allowed to write a few words on the present aspect of affairs on the isthmus of panama. recent news from america bring the intelligence that the government of the united states has at length succeeded in finding a reasonable excuse for exercising a protectorate over, or in other words annexing, the isthmus of panama. to any one at all acquainted with american policy in central america, this intelligence can give no surprise; our only wonder being that some such excuse was not made years ago. at this crisis, then, a few remarks from the humblest observer of life in the republic of new granada must possess some interest for the curious, if not value. i found something to admire in the people of new granada, but not much; and i found very much more to condemn most unequivocally. whatever was of any worth in their institutions, such as their comparative freedom, religious toleration, etc., was owing mainly to the negroes who had sought the protection of the republic. i found the spanish indians treacherous, passionate, and indolent, with no higher aim or object but simply to enjoy the present after their own torpid, useless fashion. like most fallen nations, they are very conservative in their habits and principles; while the blacks are enterprising, and in their opinions incline not unnaturally to democracy. but for their old antipathy, there is no doubt that the negroes would lean towards america; but they gladly encourage the prejudice of the new granadans, and foster it in every way. hence the ceaseless quarrels which have disturbed chagres and panama, until it has become necessary for an american force to garrison those towns. for humanity and civilization's sake, there can be little doubt as to the expediency of this step; but i should not be at all surprised to hear that the republic was preparing to make some show of resistance against its powerful brother; for, as the reader will have perceived, the new granadans' experiences of american manners have not been favourable; and they do not know, as we do, how little real sympathy the government of the united states has with the extreme class of its citizens who have made themselves so conspicuous in the great high-road to california. chapter viii. i long to join the british army before sebastopol--my wanderings about london for that purpose--how i fail--establishment of the firm of "day and martin"--i embark for turkey. before i left jamaica for navy bay, as narrated in the last chapter, war had been declared against russia, and we were all anxiously expecting news of a descent upon the crimea. now, no sooner had i heard of war somewhere, than i longed to witness it; and when i was told that many of the regiments i had known so well in jamaica had left england for the scene of action, the desire to join them became stronger than ever. i used to stand for hours in silent thought before an old map of the world, in a little corner of which some one had chalked a red cross, to enable me to distinguish where the crimea was; and as i traced the route thither, all difficulties would vanish. but when i came to talk over the project with my friends, the best scheme i could devise seemed so wild and improbable, that i was fain to resign my hopes for a time, and so started for navy bay. but all the way to england, from navy bay, i was turning my old wish over and over in my mind; and when i found myself in london, in the autumn of , just after the battle of alma had been fought, and my old friends were fairly before the walls of sebastopol, how to join them there took up far more of my thoughts than that visionary gold-mining speculation on the river palmilla, which seemed so feasible to us in new granada, but was considered so wild and unprofitable a speculation in london. and, as time wore on, the inclination to join my old friends of the th, th, and other regiments, battling with worse foes than yellow fever or cholera, took such exclusive possession of my mind, that i threw over the gold speculation altogether, and devoted all my energies to my new scheme. heaven knows it was visionary enough! i had no friends who could help me in such a project--nay, who would understand why i desired to go, and what i desired to do when i got there. my funds, although they might, carefully husbanded, carry me over the three thousand miles, and land me at balaclava, would not support me there long; while to persuade the public that an unknown creole woman would be useful to their army before sebastopol was too improbable an achievement to be thought of for an instant. circumstances, however, assisted me. as the winter wore on, came hints from various quarters of mismanagement, want, and suffering in the crimea; and after the battles of balaclava and inkermann, and the fearful storm of the th of november, the worst anticipations were realized. then we knew that the hospitals were full to suffocation, that scarcity and exposure were the fate of all in the camp, and that the brave fellows for whom any of us at home would have split our last shilling, and shared our last meal, were dying thousands of miles away from the active sympathy of their fellow-countrymen. fast and thick upon the news of inkermann, fought by a handful of fasting and enfeebled men against eight times their number of picked russians, brought fresh and animated to the contest, and while all england was reeling beneath the shock of that fearful victory, came the sad news that hundreds were dying whom the russian shot and sword had spared, and that the hospitals of scutari were utterly unable to shelter, or their inadequate staff to attend to, the ship-loads of sick and wounded which were sent to them across the stormy black sea. but directly england knew the worst, she set about repairing her past neglect. in every household busy fingers were working for the poor soldier--money flowed in golden streams wherever need was--and christian ladies, mindful of the sublime example, "i was sick, and ye visited me," hastened to volunteer their services by those sick-beds which only women know how to soothe and bless. need i be ashamed to confess that i shared in the general enthusiasm, and longed more than ever to carry my busy (and the reader will not hesitate to add experienced) fingers where the sword or bullet had been busiest, and pestilence most rife. i had seen much of sorrow and death elsewhere, but they had never daunted me; and if i could feel happy binding up the wounds of quarrelsome americans and treacherous spaniards, what delight should i not experience if i could be useful to my own "sons," suffering for a cause it was so glorious to fight and bleed for! i never stayed to discuss probabilities, or enter into conjectures as to my chances of reaching the scene of action. i made up my mind that if the army wanted nurses, they would be glad of me, and with all the ardour of my nature, which ever carried me where inclination prompted, i decided that i _would_ go to the crimea; and go i did, as all the world knows. of course, had it not been for my old strong-mindedness (which has nothing to do with obstinacy, and is in no way related to it--the best term i can think of to express it being "judicious decisiveness"), i should have given up the scheme a score of times in as many days; so regularly did each successive day give birth to a fresh set of rebuffs and disappointments. i shall make no excuse to my readers for giving them a pretty full history of my struggles to become a crimean _heroine_! my first idea (and knowing that i was well fitted for the work, and would be the right woman in the right place, the reader can fancy my audacity) was to apply to the war office for the post of hospital nurse. among the diseases which i understood were most prevalent in the crimea were cholera, diarrhoea, and dysentery, all of them more or less known in tropical climates; and with which, as the reader will remember, my panama experience had made me tolerably familiar. now, no one will accuse me of presumption, if i say that i thought (and so it afterwards proved) that my knowledge of these human ills would not only render my services as a nurse more valuable, but would enable me to be of use to the overworked doctors. that others thought so too, i took with me ample testimony. i cannot resist the temptation of giving my readers one of the testimonials i had, it seems so eminently practical and to the point:-- "i became acquainted with mrs. seacole through the instrumentality of t. b. cowan, esq., h. b. m. consul at colon, on the isthmus of panama, and have had many opportunities of witnessing her professional zeal and ability in the treatment of aggravated forms of tropical diseases. "i am myself personally much indebted for her indefatigable kindness and skill at a time when i am apt to believe the advice of a practitioner qualified in the north would have little availed. "her peculiar fitness, in a constitutional point of view, for the duties of a medical attendant, needs no comment. (signed) "a. g. m., "late medical officer, west granada gold-mining company." so i made long and unwearied application at the war office, in blissful ignorance of the labour and time i was throwing away. i have reason to believe that i considerably interfered with the repose of sundry messengers, and disturbed, to an alarming degree, the official gravity of some nice gentlemanly young fellows, who were working out their salaries in an easy, off-hand way. but my ridiculous endeavours to gain an interview with the secretary-at-war of course failed, and glad at last to oblige a distracted messenger, i transferred my attentions to the quartermaster-general's department. here i saw another gentleman, who listened to me with a great deal of polite enjoyment, and--his amusement ended--hinted, had i not better apply to the medical department; and accordingly i attached myself to their quarters with the same unwearying ardour. but, of course, i grew tired at last, and then i changed my plans. now, i am not for a single instant going to blame the authorities who would not listen to the offer of a motherly yellow woman to go to the crimea and nurse her "sons" there, suffering from cholera, diarrhoea, and a host of lesser ills. in my country, where people know our use, it would have been different; but here it was natural enough--although i had references, and other voices spoke for me--that they should laugh, good-naturedly enough, at my offer. war, i know, is a serious game, but sometimes very humble actors are of great use in it, and if the reader, when he comes in time to peruse the evidence of those who had to do with the sebastopol drama, of my share in it, will turn back to this chapter, he will confess perhaps that, after all, the impulse which led me to the war department was not unnatural. my new scheme was, i candidly confess, worse devised than the one which had failed. miss nightingale had left england for the crimea, but other nurses were still to follow, and my new plan was simply to offer myself to mrs. h---- as a recruit. feeling that i was one of the very women they most wanted, experienced and fond of the work, i jumped at once to the conclusion that they would gladly enrol me in their number. to go to cox's, the army agents, who were most obliging to me, and obtain the secretary-at-war's private address, did not take long; and that done, i laid the same pertinacious siege to his great house in ---- square, as i had previously done to his place of business. many a long hour did i wait in his great hall, while scores passed in and out; many of them looking curiously at me. the flunkeys, noble creatures! marvelled exceedingly at the yellow woman whom no excuses could get rid of, nor impertinence dismay, and showed me very clearly that they resented my persisting in remaining there in mute appeal from their sovereign will. at last i gave that up, after a message from mrs. h. that the full complement of nurses had been secured, and that my offer could not be entertained. once again i tried, and had an interview this time with one of miss nightingale's companions. she gave me the same reply, and i read in her face the fact, that had there been a vacancy, i should not have been chosen to fill it. as a last resort, i applied to the managers of the crimean fund to know whether they would give me a passage to the camp--once there i would trust to something turning up. but this failed also, and one cold evening i stood in the twilight, which was fast deepening into wintry night, and looked back upon the ruins of my last castle in the air. the disappointment seemed a cruel one. i was so conscious of the unselfishness of the motives which induced me to leave england--so certain of the service i could render among the sick soldiery, and yet i found it so difficult to convince others of these facts. doubts and suspicions arose in my heart for the first and last time, thank heaven. was it possible that american prejudices against colour had some root here? did these ladies shrink from accepting my aid because my blood flowed beneath a somewhat duskier skin than theirs? tears streamed down my foolish cheeks, as i stood in the fast thinning streets; tears of grief that any should doubt my motives--that heaven should deny me the opportunity that i sought. then i stood still, and looking upward through and through the dark clouds that shadowed london, prayed aloud for help. i dare say that i was a strange sight to the few passers-by, who hastened homeward through the gloom and mist of that wintry night. i dare say those who read these pages will wonder at me as much as they who saw me did; but you must all remember that i am one of an impulsive people, and find it hard to put that restraint upon my feelings which to you is so easy and natural. the morrow, however, brought fresh hope. a good night's rest had served to strengthen my determination. let what might happen, to the crimea i would go. if in no other way, then would i upon my own responsibility and at my own cost. there were those there who had known me in jamaica, who had been under my care; doctors who would vouch for my skill and willingness to aid them, and a general who had more than once helped me, and would do so still. why not trust to their welcome and kindness, and start at once? if the authorities had allowed me, i would willingly have given them my services as a nurse; but as they declined them, should i not open an hotel for invalids in the crimea in my own way? i had no more idea of what the crimea was than the home authorities themselves perhaps, but having once made up my mind, it was not long before cards were printed and speeding across the mediterranean to my friends before sebastopol. here is one of them:-- "british hotel. mrs. mary seacole (_late of kingston, jamaica_), respectfully announces to her former kind friends, and to the officers of the army and navy generally, that she has taken her passage in the screw-steamer "hollander," to start from london on the th of january, intending on her arrival at balaclava to establish a mess table and comfortable quarters for sick and convalescent officers." this bold programme would reach the crimea in the end of january, at a time when any officer would have considered a stall in an english stable luxurious quarters compared to those he possessed, and had nearly forgotten the comforts of a mess-table. it must have read to them rather like a mockery, and yet, as the reader will see, i succeeded in redeeming my pledge. while this new scheme was maturing, i again met mr. day in england. he was bound to balaclava upon some shipping business, and we came to the understanding that (if it were found desirable) we should together open a store as well as an hotel in the neighbourhood of the camp. so was originated the well-known firm of seacole and day (i am sorry to say, the camp wits dubbed it day and martin), which, for so many months, did business upon the now deserted high-road from the then busy harbour of balaclava to the front of the british army before sebastopol. these new arrangements were not allowed to interfere in any way with the main object of my journey. a great portion of my limited capital was, with the kind aid of a medical friend, invested in medicines which i had reason to believe would be useful; with the remainder i purchased those home comforts which i thought would be most difficult to obtain away from england. i had scarcely set my foot on board the "hollander," before i met a friend. the supercargo was the brother of the mr. s----, whose death in jamaica the reader will not have forgotten, and he gave me a hearty welcome. i thought the meeting augured well, and when i told him my plans he gave me the most cheering encouragement. i was glad, indeed, of any support, for, beyond all doubt, my project was a hazardous one. so cheered at the outset, i watched without a pang the shores of england sink behind the smooth sea, and turned my gaze hopefully to the as yet landless horizon, beyond which lay that little peninsula to which the eyes and hearts of all england were so earnestly directed. so, cheerily! the good ship ploughed its way eastward ho! for turkey. chapter ix. voyage to constantinople--malta--gibraltar--constantinople, and what i thought of it--visit to scutari hospital--miss nightingale. i am not going to risk the danger of wearying the reader with a long account of the voyage to constantinople, already worn threadbare by book-making tourists. it was a very interesting one, and, as i am a good sailor, i had not even the temporary horrors of sea-sickness to mar it. the weather, although cold, was fine, and the sea good-humouredly calm, and i enjoyed the voyage amazingly. and as day by day we drew nearer to the scene of action, my doubts of success grew less and less, until i had a conviction of the rightness of the step i had taken, which would have carried me buoyantly through any difficulties. on the way, of course, i was called up from my berth at an unreasonable hour to gaze upon the cape of st. vincent, and expected to feel duly impressed when the long bay where trafalgar's fight was won came in view, with the white convent walls on the cliffs above bathed in the early sunlight. i never failed to take an almost childish interest in the signals which passed between the "hollander" and the fleet of vessels whose sails whitened the track to and from the crimea, trying to puzzle out the language these children of the ocean spoke in their hurried course, and wondering whether any, or what sufficiently important thing _could_ happen which would warrant their stopping on their busy way. we spent a short time at gibraltar, and you may imagine that i was soon on shore making the best use of the few hours' reprieve granted to the "hollander's" weary engines. i had an idea that i should do better alone, so i declined all offers of companionship, and selecting a brisk young fellow from the mob of cicerones who offered their services, saw more of the art of fortification in an hour or so than i could understand in as many years. the pleasure was rather fatiguing, and i was not sorry to return to the market-place, where i stood curiously watching its strange and motley population. while so engaged, i heard for the first time an exclamation which became familiar enough to me afterwards. "why, bless my soul, old fellow, if this is not our good old mother seacole!" i turned round, and saw two officers, whose features, set in a broad frame of crimean beard, i had some difficulty in recognising. but i soon remembered that they were two of the th, who had been often in my house at kingston. glad were the kind-hearted fellows, and not a little surprised withal, to meet their old hostess in the market-place of gibraltar, bound for the scene of action which they had left invalided; and it was not long before we were talking old times over some wine--spanish, i suppose--but it was very nasty. "and you are going to the front, old lady--you, of all people in the world?" "why not, my sons?--won't they be glad to have me there?" "by jove! yes, mother," answered one, an irishman. "it isn't many women--god bless them!--we've had to spoil us out there. but it's not the place even for you, who know what hardship is. you'll never get a roof to cover you at balaclava, nor on the road either." so they rattled on, telling me of the difficulties that were in store for me. but they could not shake my resolution. "do you think i shall be of any use to you when i get there?" "surely." "then i'll go, were the place a hundred times worse than you describe it. can't i rig up a hut with the packing-cases, and sleep, if need be, on straw, like margery daw?" so they laughed, and drank success to me, and to our next meeting; for, although they were going home invalided, the brave fellows' hearts were with their companions, for all the hardships they had passed through. we stopped at malta also, where, of course, i landed, and stared about me, and submitted to be robbed by the lazy maltese with all a traveller's resignation. here, also, i met friends--some medical officers who had known me in kingston; and one of them, dr. f----, lately arrived from scutari, gave me, when he heard my plans, a letter of introduction to miss nightingale, then hard at work, evoking order out of confusion, and bravely resisting the despotism of death, at the hospital of scutari. so on, past beautiful islands and shores, until we are steaming against a swift current, and an adverse wind, between two tower-crested promontories of rock, which they tell me stand in europe and in asia, and are connected with some pretty tale of love in days long gone by. ah! travel where a woman may, in the new world, or the old, she meets this old, old tale everywhere. it is the one bond of sympathy which i have found existing in three quarters of the world alike. so on, until the cable rattles over the windlass, as the good ship's anchor plunges down fathoms deep into the blue waters of the bosphorus--her voyage ended. i do not think that constantinople impressed me so much as i had expected; and i thought its streets would match those of navy bay not unfairly. the caicques, also, of which i had ample experience--for i spent six days here, wandering about pera and stamboul in the daytime, and returning to the "hollander" at nightfall--might be made more safe and commodious for stout ladies, even if the process interfered a little with their ornament. time and trouble combined have left me with a well-filled-out, portly form--the envy of many an angular yankee female--and, more than once, it was in no slight danger of becoming too intimately acquainted with the temperature of the bosphorus. but i will do the turkish boatmen the justice to say that they were as politely careful of my safety as their astonishment and regard for the well-being of their caicques (which they appear to love as an arab does his horse, or an esquimaux his dogs, and for the same reason perhaps) would admit. somewhat surprised, also, seemed the cunning-eyed greeks, who throng the streets of pera, at the unprotected creole woman, who took constantinople so coolly (it would require something more to surprise her); while the grave english raised their eyebrows wonderingly, and the more vivacious french shrugged their pliant shoulders into the strangest contortions. i accepted it all as a compliment to a stout female tourist, neatly dressed in a red or yellow dress, a plain shawl of some other colour, and a simple straw wide-awake, with bright red streamers. i flatter myself that i woke up sundry sleepy-eyed turks, who seemed to think that the great object of life was to avoid showing surprise at anything; while the turkish women gathered around me, and jabbered about me, in the most flattering manner. how i ever succeeded in getting mr. day's letters from the post-office, constantinople, puzzles me now; but i did--and i shall ever regard my success as one of the great triumphs of my life. their contents were not very cheering. he gave a very dreary account of balaclava and of camp life, and almost dissuaded me from continuing my journey; but his last letter ended by giving me instructions as to the purchases i had best make, if i still determined upon making the adventure; so i forgot all the rest, and busied myself in laying in the stores he recommended. but i found time, before i left the "hollander," to charter a crazy caicque, to carry me to scutari, intending to present dr. f----'s letter to miss nightingale. it was afternoon when the boatmen set me down in safety at the landing-place of scutari, and i walked up the slight ascent, to the great dull-looking hospital. thinking of the many noble fellows who had been borne, or had painfully crept along this path, only to die within that dreary building, i felt rather dull; and directly i entered the hospital, and came upon the long wards of sufferers, lying there so quiet and still, a rush of tears came to my eyes, and blotted out the sight for a few minutes. but i soon felt at home, and looked about me with great interest. the men were, many of them, very quiet. some of the convalescent formed themselves into little groups around one who read a newspaper; others had books in their hands, or by their side, where they had fallen when slumber overtook the readers, while hospital orderlies moved to and fro, and now and then the female nurses, in their quiet uniform, passed noiselessly on some mission of kindness. i was fortunate enough to find an old acquaintance, who accompanied me through the wards, and rendered it unnecessary for me to trouble the busy nurses. this was an old th man--a sergeant t----, whom i had known in kingston, and who was slowly recovering from an attack of dysentery, and making himself of use here until the doctors should let him go back and have another "shy at the rooshians." he is very glad to meet me, and tells me his history very socially, and takes me to the bedsides of some comrades, who had also known me at up-park camp. my poor fellows! how their eyes glisten when they light upon an old friend's face in these turkish barracks--put to so sad a use, three thousand miles from home. here is one of them--"hurt in the trenches," says the sergeant, with shaven bandaged head, and bright, restless, irish eyes, who hallooes out, "mother seacole! mother seacole!" in such an excited tone of voice; and when he has shaken hands a score of times, falls back upon his pillow very wearily. but i sit by his side, and try to cheer him with talk about the future, when he shall grow well, and see home, and hear them all thank him for what he has been helping to do, so that he grows all right in a few minutes; but, hearing that i am on the way to the front, gets excited again; for, you see, illness and weakness make these strong men as children, not least in the patient unmurmuring resignation with which they suffer. i think my irish friend had an indistinct idea of a "muddle" somewhere, which had kept him for weeks on salt meat and biscuit, until it gave him the "scurvy," for he is very anxious that i should take over plenty of vegetables, of every sort. "and, oh! mother!"--and it is strange to hear his almost plaintive tone as he urges this--"take them plenty of eggs, mother; we never saw eggs over there." at some slight risk of giving offence, i cannot resist the temptation of lending a helping hand here and there--replacing a slipped bandage, or easing a stiff one. but i do not think any one was offended; and one doctor, who had with some surprise and, at first, alarm on his face, watched me replace a bandage, which was giving pain, said, very kindly, when i had finished, "thank you, ma'am." one thought never left my mind as i walked through the fearful miles of suffering in that great hospital. if it is so here, what must it not be at the scene of war--on the spot where the poor fellows are stricken down by pestilence or russian bullets, and days and nights of agony must be passed before a woman's hand can dress their wounds. and i felt happy in the conviction that _i must_ be useful three or four days nearer to their pressing wants than this. it was growing late before i felt tired, or thought of leaving scutari, and dr. s----, another jamaica friend, who had kindly borne me company for the last half-hour agreed with me that the caicque was not the safest conveyance by night on the bosphorus, and recommended me to present my letter to miss nightingale, and perhaps a lodging for the night could be found for me. so, still under the sergeant's patient guidance, we thread our way through passages and corridors, all used as sick-wards, until we reach the corner tower of the building, in which are the nurses' quarters. i think mrs. b----, who saw me, felt more surprise than she could politely show (i never found women so quick to understand me as the men) when i handed her dr. f----'s kind letter respecting me, and apologized for troubling miss nightingale. there is that in the doctor's letter (he had been much at scutari) which prevents my request being refused, and i am asked to wait until miss nightingale, whose every moment is valuable, can see me. meanwhile mrs. b. questions me very kindly, but with the same look of curiosity and surprise. what object has mrs. seacole in coming out? this is the purport of her questions. and i say, frankly, to be of use somewhere; for other considerations i had not, until necessity forced them upon me. willingly, had they accepted me, i would have worked for the wounded, in return for bread and water. i fancy mrs. b---- thought that i sought for employment at scutari, for she said, very kindly-- "miss nightingale has the entire management of our hospital staff, but i do not think that any vacancy--" "excuse me, ma'am," i interrupt her with, "but i am bound for the front in a few days;" and my questioner leaves me, more surprised than ever. the room i waited in was used as a kitchen. upon the stoves were cans of soup, broth, and arrow-root, while nurses passed in and out with noiseless tread and subdued manner. i thought many of them had that strange expression of the eyes which those who have gazed long on scenes of woe or horror seldom lose. in half an hour's time i am admitted to miss nightingale's presence. a slight figure, in the nurses' dress; with a pale, gentle, and withal firm face, resting lightly in the palm of one white hand, while the other supports the elbow--a position which gives to her countenance a keen inquiring expression, which is rather marked. standing thus in repose, and yet keenly observant--the greatest sign of impatience at any time[b] a slight, perhaps unwitting motion of the firmly planted right foot--was florence nightingale--that englishwoman whose name shall never die, but sound like music on the lips of british men until the hour of doom. she has read dr. f----'s letter, which lies on the table by her side, and asks, in her gentle but eminently practical and business-like way, "what do you want, mrs. seacole--anything that we can do for you? if it lies in my power, i shall be very happy." so i tell her of my dread of the night journey by caicque, and the improbability of my finding the "hollander" in the dark; and, with some diffidence, threw myself upon the hospitality of scutari, offering to nurse the sick for the night. now unfortunately, for many reasons, room even for one in scutari hospital was at that time no easy matter to find; but at last a bed was discovered to be unoccupied at the hospital washerwomen's quarters. my experience of washerwomen, all the world over, is the same--that they are kind soft-hearted folks. possibly the soap-suds they almost live in find their way into their hearts and tempers, and soften them. this scutari washerwoman is no exception to the rule, and welcomes me most heartily. with her, also, are some invalid nurses; and after they have gone to bed, we spend some hours of the night talking over our adventures, and giving one another scraps of our respective biographies. i hadn't long retired to my couch before i wished most heartily that we had continued our chat; for unbidden and most unwelcome companions took the washerwoman's place, and persisted not only in dividing my bed, but my plump person also. upon my word, i believe the fleas are the only industrious creatures in all turkey. some of their relatives would seem to have migrated into russia; for i found them in the crimea equally prosperous and ubiquitous. in the morning, a breakfast is sent to my mangled remains, and a kind message from mrs. b----, having reference to how i spent the night. and, after an interview with some other medical men, whose acquaintance i had made in jamaica, i shake hands with the soft-hearted washerwoman, up to her shoulders in soap-suds already, and start for the "hollander." footnote: [b] subsequently i saw much of miss nightingale, at balaclava. chapter x. "jew johnny"--i start for balaclava--kindness of my old friends--on board the "medora"--my life on shore--the sick wharf. during my stay in constantinople, i was accustomed to employ, as a guide, a young greek jew, whose name it is no use my attempting to spell, but whom i called by the one common name there--"johnny." wishing, however, to distinguish my johnny from the legion of other johnnies, i prefixed the term jew to his other name, and addressed him as jew johnny. how he had picked up his knowledge i cannot tell, but he could talk a little broken english, besides french, which, had i been qualified to criticise it, i should have found, perhaps, as broken as his english. he attached himself very closely to me, and seemed very anxious to share my fortunes; and after he had pleaded hard, many times, to be taken to the crimea, i gave in, and formally hired him. he was the best and faithfullest servant i had in the crimea, and, so far from regretting having picked up jew johnny from the streets of pera, i should have been very badly off without him. more letters come from mr. day, giving even worse accounts of the state of things at balaclava; but it is too late for hesitation now. my plans are perfected, my purchases made, and passage secured in the "albatross"--a transport laden with cattle and commissariat officers for balaclava. i thought i should never have transported my things from the "hollander" to the "albatross." it was a terrible day, and against the strong current and hurricane of wind turkish and greek arms seemed of little avail; but at last, after an hour or more of terrible anxiety and fear, the "albatross's" side was reached, and i clambered on deck, drenched and wretched. my companions are cheerful, pleasant fellows, and the short, although somewhat hazardous, voyage across the black sea is safely made, and one morning we become excited at seeing a dark rock-bound coast, on which they tell us is balaclava. as we steam on we see, away to the right, clouds of light smoke, which the knowing travellers tell us are not altogether natural, but show that sebastopol is not yet taken, until the "albatross" lays-to within sight of where the "prince," with her ill-fated companions, went down in that fearful november storm, four short months ago, while application is made to the harbour-master for leave to enter the port of balaclava. it does not appear the simplest favour in the world that we are applying for--licence to escape from the hazards of the black sea. but at last it comes, and we slowly wind through a narrow channel, and emerge into a small landlocked basin, so filled with shipping that their masts bend in the breeze like a wintry forest. whatever might have been the case at one time, there is order in balaclava harbour now, and the "albatross," with the aid of her boats, moves along to her appointed moorings. such a busy scene as that small harbour presented could be rarely met with elsewhere. crowded with shipping, of every size and variety, from the noble english steamer to the smallest long-shore craft, while between them and the shore passed and repassed innumerable boats; men-of-war's boats, trim and stern; merchant-ship's boats, laden to the gunwales; greek and maltese boats, carrying their owners everywhere on their missions of sharp dealing and roguery. coming from the quiet gloomy sea into this little nook of life and bustle the transition is very sudden and startling, and gives one enough to think about without desiring to go on shore this afternoon. on the following morning, mr. day, apprised of my arrival, came on board the "albatross," and our plans were laid. i must leave the "albatross," of course, and, until we decide upon our future, i had better take up my quarters on board the "medora," which is hired by the government, at a great cost, as an ammunition ship. the proposal was not a very agreeable one, but i have no choice left me. our stores, too, had to be landed at once. warehouses were unheard of in balaclava, and we had to stack them upon the shore and protect them as well as we were able. my first task, directly i had become settled on board the "medora," was to send word to my friends of my arrival in the crimea, and solicit their aid. i gave a greek idler one pound to carry a letter to the camp of the th, while i sent another to captain peel, who was hard at work battering the defences of sebastopol about the ears of the russians, from the batteries of the royal naval brigade. i addressed others to many of the medical men who had known me in other lands; nor did i neglect to send word to my kind patron, sir john campbell, then commanding a division: and my old friends answered my letters most kindly. as the various officers came down on duty or business to balaclava they did not fail to find me out, and welcome me to the crimea, while captain peel and sir j. campbell sent the kindest messages; and when they saw me, promised me every assistance, the general adding that he is glad to see me where there is so much to do. among others, poor h. vicars, whose kind face had so often lighted up my old house in kingston, came to take me by the hand in this out-of-the-way corner of the world. i never felt so sure of the success of any step as i did of this, before i had been a week in balaclava. but i had plenty of difficulties to contend with on every side. among the first, one of the ships, in which were many of our stores, the "nonpareil," was ordered out of the harbour before we could land them all, and there was more than a probability that she would carry back to constantinople many of the things we had most pressing occasion for. it became necessary, therefore, that some one should see admiral boxer, and try to interest that mild-spoken and affable officer in our favour. when i mentioned it to mr. day, he did not seem inclined to undertake the mission, and nothing was left but for me to face the terrible port-admiral. fortunately, captain h----, of the "diamond," was inclined to be my friend, and, not a little amused with his mission, carried me right off to the admiral. i confess that i was as nearly frightened out of my wits as i ever have been, for the admiral's kind heart beat under a decidedly rough husk; and when captain h---- told him that i wanted his permission for the "nonpareil" to remain in the harbour for a few days, as there were stores on board, he let fly enough hard words to frighten any woman. but when i spoke up, and told him that i had known his son in the west indies, he relented, and granted my petition. but it was not without more hard words, and much grumbling that a parcel of women should be coming out to a place where they were not wanted. now, the admiral did not repeat this remark a few days afterwards, when he saw me attending the sick and wounded upon the sick wharf. i remained six weeks in balaclava, spending my days on shore, and my nights on board ship. over our stores, stacked on the shore, a few sheets of rough tarpaulin were suspended; and beneath these--my sole protection against the crimean rain and wind--i spent some portion of each day, receiving visitors and selling stores. but my chief occupation, and one with which i never allowed any business to interfere, was helping the doctors to transfer the sick and wounded from the mules and ambulances into the transports that had to carry them to the hospitals of scutari and buyukdere. i did not forget the main object of my journey, to which i would have devoted myself exclusively had i been allowed; and very familiar did i become before long with the sick wharf of balaclava. my acquaintance with it began very shortly after i had reached balaclava. the very first day that i approached the wharf, a party of sick and wounded had just arrived. here was work for me, i felt sure. with so many patients, the doctors must be glad of all the hands they could get. indeed, so strong was the old impulse within me, that i waited for no permission, but seeing a poor artilleryman stretched upon a pallet, groaning heavily, i ran up to him at once, and eased the stiff dressings. lightly my practised fingers ran over the familiar work, and well was i rewarded when the poor fellow's groans subsided into a restless uneasy mutter. god help him! he had been hit in the forehead, and i think his sight was gone. i stooped down, and raised some tea to his baked lips (here and there upon the wharf were rows of little pannikins containing this beverage). then his hand touched mine, and rested there, and i heard him mutter indistinctly, as though the discovery had arrested his wandering senses-- "ha! this is surely a woman's hand." i couldn't say much, but i tried to whisper something about hope and trust in god; but all the while i think his thoughts were running on this strange discovery. perhaps i had brought to his poor mind memories of his home, and the loving ones there, who would ask no greater favour than the privilege of helping him thus; for he continued to hold my hand in his feeble grasp, and whisper "god bless you, _woman_--whoever you are, god bless you!"--over and over again. i do not think that the surgeons noticed me at first, although, as this was my introduction to balaclava, i had not neglected my personal appearance, and wore my favourite yellow dress, and blue bonnet, with the red ribbons; but i noticed one coming to me, who, i think, would have laughed very merrily had it not been for the poor fellow at my feet. as it was, he came forward, and shook hands very kindly, saying, "how do you do, ma'am? much obliged to you for looking after my poor fellow; very glad to see you here." and glad they always were, the kind-hearted doctors, to let me help them look after the sick and wounded sufferers brought to that fearful wharf. i wonder if i can ever forget the scenes i witnessed there? oh! they were heartrending. i declare that i saw rough bearded men stand by and cry like the softest-hearted women at the sights of suffering they saw; while some who scorned comfort for themselves, would fidget about for hours before the long trains of mules and ambulances came in, nervous lest the most trifling thing that could minister to the sufferers' comfort should be neglected. i have often heard men talk and preach very learnedly and conclusively about the great wickedness and selfishness of the human heart; i used to wonder whether they would have modified those opinions if they had been my companions for one day of the six weeks i spent upon that wharf, and seen but one day's experience of the christian sympathy and brotherly love shown by the strong to the weak. the task was a trying one, and familiarity, you might think, would have worn down their keener feelings of pity and sympathy; but it was not so. i was in the midst of my sad work one day when the admiral came up, and stood looking on. he vouchsafed no word nor look of recognition in answer to my salute, but stood silently by, his hands behind his back, watching the sick being lifted into the boats. you might have thought that he had little feeling, so stern and expressionless was his face; but once, when they raised a sufferer somewhat awkwardly, and he groaned deeply, that rough man broke out all at once with an oath, that was strangely like a prayer, and bade the men, for god's sake, take more care. and, coming up to me, he clapped me on the shoulder, saying, "i am glad to see you here, old lady, among these poor fellows;" while, i am most strangely deceived if i did not see a tear-drop gathering in his eye. it was on this same day, i think, that bending down over a poor fellow whose senses had quite gone, and, i fear me, would never return to him in this world, he took me for his wife, and calling me "mary, mary," many times, asked me how it was he had got home so quickly, and why he did not see the children; and said he felt sure he should soon get better now. poor fellow! i could not undeceive him. i think the fancy happily caused by the touch of a woman's hand soothed his dying hour; for i do not fancy he could have lived to reach scutari. i never knew it for certain, but i always felt sure that he would never wake from that dream of home in this world. and here, lest the reader should consider that i am speaking too highly of my own actions, i must have recourse to a plan which i shall frequently adopt in the following pages, and let another voice speak for me in the kind letter received long after balaclava had been left to its old masters, by one who had not forgotten his old companion on the sick-wharf. the writer, major (then captain) r----, had charge of the wharf while i was there. "glasgow, sept. . "dear mrs. seacole,--i am very sorry to hear that you have been unfortunate in business; but i am glad to hear that you have found friends in lord r---- and others, who are ready to help you. no one knows better than i do how much you did to help poor sick and wounded soldiers; and i feel sure you will find in your day of trouble that they have not forgotten it." major r---- was a brave and experienced officer, but the scenes on the sick-wharf unmanned him often. i have known him nervously restless if the people were behindhand, even for a few minutes, in their preparations for the wounded. but in this feeling all shared alike. only women could have done more than they did who attended to this melancholy duty; and they, not because their hearts could be softer, but because their hands are moulded for this work. but it must not be supposed that we had no cheerful scenes upon the sick-wharf. sometimes a light-hearted fellow--generally a sailor--would forget his pain, and do his best to keep the rest in good spirits. once i heard my name eagerly pronounced, and turning round, recognised a sailor whom i remembered as one of the crew of the "alarm," stationed at kingston, a few years back. "why, as i live, if this ain't aunty seacole, of jamaica! shiver all that's left of my poor timbers"--and i saw that the left leg was gone--"if this ain't a rum go, mates!" "ah! my man, i'm sorry to see you in this sad plight." "never fear for me, aunty seacole; i'll make the best of the leg the rooshians have left me. i'll get at them soon again, never fear. you don't think, messmates"--he never left his wounded comrades alone--"that they'll think less of us at home for coming back with a limb or so short?" "you bear your troubles well, my son." "eh! do i, aunty?" and he seemed surprised. "why, look'ye, when i've seen so many pretty fellows knocked off the ship's roll altogether, don't you think i ought to be thankful if i can answer the bo'swain's call anyhow?" and this was the sailors' philosophy always. and this brave fellow, after he had sipped some lemonade, and laid down, when he heard the men groaning, raised his head and comforted them in the same strain again; and, it may seem strange, but it quieted them. i used to make sponge-cakes on board the "medora," with eggs brought from constantinople. only the other day, captain s----, who had charge of the "medora," reminded me of them. these, with some lemonade, were all the doctors would allow me to give to the wounded. they all liked the cake, poor fellows, better than anything else: perhaps because it tasted of "home." chapter xi. alarms in the harbour--getting the stores on shore--robbery by night and day--the predatory tribes of balaclava--activity of the authorities--we obtain leave to erect our store, and fix upon spring hill as its site--the turkish pacha--the flood--our carpenters--i become an english schoolmistress abroad. my life in balaclava could not but be a rough one. the exposure by day was enough to try any woman's strength; and at night one was not always certain of repose. nor was it the easiest thing to clamber up the steep sides of the "medora;" and more than once i narrowly escaped a sousing in the harbour. why it should be so difficult to climb a ship's side, when a few more staves in the ladder, and those a little broader, would make it so easy, i have never been able to guess. and once on board the "medora," my berth would not altogether have suited a delicate female with weak nerves. it was an ammunition ship, and we slept over barrels of gunpowder and tons of cartridges, with the by no means impossible contingency of their prematurely igniting, and giving us no time to say our prayers before launching us into eternity. great care was enjoined, and at eight o'clock every evening captain s---- would come down, and order all lights out for the night. but i used to put my lantern into a deep basin, behind some boxes, and so evaded the regulation. i felt rather ashamed of this breach of discipline one night, when another ammunition ship caught fire in the crowded harbour, and threatened us all with speedy destruction. we all knew, if they failed in extinguishing the fire pretty quickly, what our chances of life were worth, and i think the bravest drew his breath heavily at the thought of our danger. fortunately, they succeeded in extinguishing the firebrand before any mischief was done; but i do not think the crew of the "medora" slept very comfortably that night. it was said that the russians had employed an incendiary; but it would have been strange if in that densely crowded harbour some accidents had not happened without their agency. harassing work, indeed, was the getting our stores on shore, with the aid of the greek and maltese boatmen, whose profession is thievery. not only did they demand exorbitant sums for the carriage, but they contrived to rob us by the way in the most ingenious manner. thus many things of value were lost in the little journey from the "albatross" and "nonpareil" to the shore, which had made the long voyage from england safely. keep as sharp a look out as i might, some package or box would be tipped overboard by the sudden swaying of the boat, or passing by of one of the boatmen--of course, accidentally--and no words could induce the rascals, in their feigned ignorance of my language, to stop; and, looking back at the helpless waif, it was not altogether consolatory to see another boat dart from between some shipping, where it had been waiting, as accidentally, ready to pounce upon any such wind or waterfalls. still more harassing work was it to keep the things together on the shore: often in the open light of day, while i sat there (after my duties on the sick-wharf were over) selling stores, or administering medicine to the men of the land transport and army works corps, and others, who soon found out my skill, valuable things would be abstracted; while there was no limit to the depredations by night. of course we hired men to watch; but our choice of servants was very limited, and very often those we employed not only shut their eyes to the plunder of their companions, but helped themselves freely. the adage, "set a thief to catch a thief," answered very badly in balaclava. sometimes jew johnny would volunteer to watch for the night; and glad i was when i knew that the honest lynx-eyed fellow was there. one night he caught a great-limbed turk making off with a firkin of butter and some other things. the fellow broke away from johnny's grasp with the butter, but the lad marked him down to his wretched den, behind the engineers' quarters, and, on the following morning, quietly introduced me to the lazy culprit, who was making up for the partial loss of his night's rest among as evil-looking a set of comrades as i have ever seen. there was a great row, and much indignation shown at the purpose of my visit; but i considered myself justified in calling in the aid of one of the provost marshal's officers, and, in the presence of this most invaluable official, a confession was soon made. beneath the fellow's dirty bed, the butter was found buried; and, in its company, a two-dozen case of sherry, which the rogue had, in flagrant defiance of the prophet's injunction, stolen for his own private drinking, a few nights previously. the thievery in this little out-of-the way port was something marvellous; and the skill and ingenuity of the operators would have reflected credit upon the _élite_ of their profession practising in the most civilized city of europe. nor was the thievery confined altogether to the professionals, who had crowded to this scene of action from the cities and islands of the mediterranean. they robbed us, the turks, and one another; but a stronger hand was sometimes laid on them. the turk, however, was sure to be the victim, let who might be the oppressor. in this predatory warfare, as in more honourable service, the zouaves particularly distinguished themselves. these undoubtedly gallant little fellows, always restless for action, of some sort, would, when the luxury of a brash with the russians was occasionally denied them, come down to balaclava, in search of opportunities of waging war against society at large. their complete and utter absence of conscientious scruples as to the rights of property was most amusing. to see a zouave gravely cheat a turk, or trip up a greek street-merchant, or maltese fruit-seller, and scud away with the spoil, cleverly stowed in his roomy red pantaloons, was an operation, for its coolness, expedition, and perfectness, well worth seeing. and, to a great extent, they escaped scatheless, for the english provost marshal's department was rather chary of interfering with the eccentricities of our gallant allies; while if the french had taken close cognizance of the zouaves' amusements out of school, one-half of the regiments would have been always engaged punishing the other half. the poor turk! it is lamentable to think how he was robbed, abused, and bullied by his friends. why didn't he show a little pluck? there wasn't a rough sailor, or shrewd boy--the english boy, in all his impudence and prejudice, flourished in balaclava--who would not gladly have patted him upon the back if he would but have held up his head, and shown ever so little spirit. but the englishman cannot understand a coward--will scarcely take the trouble to pity him; and even the craven greek could lord it over the degenerate descendants of the fierce arabs, who--so they told me on the spot--had wrested constantinople from the christians, in those old times of which i know so little. very often an injured turk would run up to where i sat, and stand there, wildly telegraphing his complaints against some villainous-looking greek, or italian, whom a stout english lad would have shaken out of his dirty skin in five minutes. once, however, i saw the tables turned. as the anecdote will help to illustrate the relative positions of the predatory tribes of balaclava, i will narrate it. hearing one morning a louder hubbub than was usual upon the completion of a bargain, and the inevitable quarrelling that always followed, i went up to where i saw an excited crowd collected around a turk, in whose hands a greek was struggling vainly. this greek had, it seemed, robbed his enemy, but the turk was master this time, and had, in order to force from the robber a confession of the place where the stolen things were deposited (like dogs, as they were, these fellows were fond of burying their plunder), resorted to torture. this was effected most ingeniously and simply by means of some packthread, which, bound round the greek's two thumbs, was tightened on the tourniquet principle, until the pain elicited a confession. but the turk, stimulated to retaliation by his triumph, bagged the greek's basket, which contained amongst other things two watches, which their present owner had no doubt stolen. driven to the most ludicrous show of despair, the greek was about to attempt another desperate struggle for the recovery of his goods, when two zouaves elbowed their small persons upon the crowded stage, and were eagerly referred to by all the parties concerned in the squabble. how they contrived it, i cannot say, so prompt were their movements; but, in a very few minutes, the watches were in their possession, and going much faster than was agreeable either to turk or greek, who both combined to arrest this new movement, and thereby added a sharp thrashing to their other injuries. the zouaves effected their escape safely, while the greek, with a despair that had in it an equal share of the ludicrous and the tragic, threw himself upon the dusty ground, and tore his thin hair out by handfuls. i believe that the poor wretch, whom we could not help pitying, journeyed to kamiesch, to discover his oppressors; but i fear he didn't gain much information there. had it not been for the unremitting activity of the authorities, no life would have been safe in balaclava, with its population of villains of every nation. as it was, murder was sometimes added to robbery, and many of the rascals themselves died suspicious deaths, with the particulars of which the authorities did not trouble themselves. but the officials worked hard, both in the harbour and on shore, to keep order; few men could have worked harder. i often saw the old grey-haired admiral about before the sun had fairly shown itself; and those of his subordinates must have been somewhat heavy sleepers who could play the sluggard then. at length the necessary preparations to establish our store were made. we hit upon a spot about two miles from balaclava, in advance of kadikoi, close to where the railway engines were stationed, and within a mile of head-quarters. leave having been obtained to erect buildings here, we set to work briskly, and soon altered the appearance of spring hill--so we christened our new home. sometimes on horseback, sometimes getting a lift on the commissariat carts, and occasionally on the ammunition railway-waggons, i managed to visit spring hill daily, and very soon fitted up a shed sufficiently large to take up my abode in. but the difficulty of building our store was immense. to obtain material was next to impossible; but that collected (not a little was, by leave of the admiral, gleaned from the floating rubbish in the harbour), to find workmen to make use of it was still more difficult. i spent days going round the shipping, offering great wages, even, for an invalid able to handle saw and hammer, however roughly, and many a long ride through the camps did i take on the same errand. at length, by dint of hard canvassing, we obtained the aid of two english sailors, whom i nicknamed "big and little chips," and some turks, and set to work in good earnest. i procured the turks from the pacha who commanded the division encamped in the neighbourhood of spring hill. it was decided that we should apply to him for help, and accordingly i became ambassadress on this delicate mission, and rode over to the pacha's quarters, jew johnny attending me as interpreter. i was received by the pacha with considerable kindness and no trifling amount of formality, and after taking coffee i proceeded, through jew johnny, to explain the object of my visit, while his excellency, a tall man, with a dark pleasing face, smoked gravely, and took my request into his gracious consideration. on the following day came the answer to my request, in the persons of two curious turkish carpenters, who were placed at our orders. after a little while, too, a turkish officer, whom i christened captain ali baba, took so great an interest in our labours that he would work like any carpenter, and with a delight and zeal that were astonishing. to see him fall back, and look smilingly at every piece of his workmanship, was a sight to restore the most severely tried temper. i really think that the good-hearted fellow thought it splendid fun, and never wearied of it. but for him i do not know how we should have managed with our other turkish "chips"--chips of the true old turkish block they were--deliberate, slow, and indolent, breaking off into endless interruptions for the sacred duties of eating and praying, and getting into out-of-the-way corners at all times of the day to smoke themselves to sleep. in the midst of our work a calamity occurred, which was very nearly becoming a catastrophe. by the giving way of a dam, after some heavy rains, the little stream which threaded its silvery way past spring hill swelled without any warning into a torrent, which, sweeping through my temporary hut, very nearly carried us all away, and destroyed stores of between one and two hundred pounds in value. this calamity might have had a tragical issue for me, for seeing a little box which contained some things, valuable as relics of the past, being carried away, i plunged in after it, and losing my balance, was rolled over and over by the stream, and with some difficulty reached the shore. some of lord raglan's staff passing our wreck on the following day, made inquiries respecting the loss we had sustained, and a messenger was sent from head-quarters, who made many purchases, in token of their sympathy. my visit to the turkish pacha laid the foundation of a lasting friendship. he soon found his way to spring hill, and before long became one of my best customers and most frequent visitors. it was astonishing to note how completely, now that he was in the land of the giaours, he adapted himself to the tastes and habits of the infidels. like a scotch presbyterian, on the continent for a holiday, he threw aside all the prejudices of his education, and drank bottled beer, sherry, and champagne with an appreciation of their qualities that no thirsty-souled christian could have expressed more gratefully. he was very affable with us all, and would sometimes keep jew johnny away from his work for hours, chatting with us or the english officers who would lounge into our as yet unfinished store. sometimes he would come down to breakfast, and spend the greater part of the day at spring hill. indeed, the wits of spring hill used to laugh, and say that the crafty pacha was throwing his pocket-handkerchief at madame seacole, widow; but as the honest fellow candidly confessed he had three wives already at home, i acquit him of any desire to add to their number. the pacha's great ambition was to be familiar with the english language, and at last nothing would do but he must take lessons of me. so he would come down, and sitting in my store, with a turk or so at his feet, to attend to his most important pipe, by inserting little red-hot pieces of charcoal at intervals, would try hard to sow a few english sentences in his treacherous memory. he never got beyond half a dozen; and i think if we had continued in the relation of pupil and mistress until now, the number would not have been increased greatly. "madame seacole," "gentlemen, good morning," and "more champagne," with each syllable much dwelt upon, were his favourite sentences. it was capital fun to hear him, when i was called away suddenly to attend to a customer, or to give a sick man medicine, repeating gravely the sentence we had been studying, until i passed him, and started him with another. very frequently he would compliment me by ordering his band down to spring hill for my amusement. they played excellently well, and i used to think that i preferred their music to that of the french and english regimental bands. i laughed heartily one day, when, in compliance with the kind-hearted anglo-turkish pacha's orders, they came out with a grand new tune, in which i with difficulty recognised a very distant resemblance to "god save the queen." altogether he was a capital neighbour, and gave such strict orders to his men to respect our property that we rarely lost anything. on the whole, the turks were the most honest of the nations there (i except the english and the sardinians), and the most tractable. but the greeks hated them, and showed their hate in every way. in bringing up things for the pacha's use they would let the mules down, and smash their loads most relentlessly. now and then they suffered, as was the case one day when i passed through the camp and saw my friend superintending the correction of a greek who was being bastinadoed. it seemed a painful punishment. i was sorry, therefore, when my friend's division was ordered to kamara, and we lost our neighbours. but my pupil did not forget his schoolmistress. a few days after they had left the neighbourhood of spring hill came a messenger, with a present of lambs, poultry, and eggs, and a letter, which i could not decipher, as many of the interpreters could speak english far better than they could write it. but we discovered that the letter contained an invitation, to mr. day and myself, to go over to kamara, and select from the spoil of the village anything that might be useful in our new buildings. and a few days later came over a large araba, drawn by four mules, and laden with a pair of glass-doors, and some window-frames, which the thoughtful kind pacha had judged--and judged rightly--would be a very acceptable present. and very often the good-natured fellow would ride over from kamara, and resume his acquaintance with myself and my champagne, and practise his english sentences. we felt the loss of our turkish neighbours in more ways than one. the neighbourhood, after their departure, was left lonely and unprotected, and it was not until a division of the land transport corps came and took up their quarters near us, that i felt at all secure of personal safety. mr. day rarely returned to spring hill until nightfall relieved him from his many duties, and i depended chiefly upon two sailors, both of questionable character, two black servants, jew johnny, and my own reputation for determination and courage--a poor delusion, which i took care to heighten by the judicious display of a double-barrelled pistol, lent me for the purpose by mr. day, and which i couldn't have loaded to save my life. chapter xii. the british hotel--domestic difficulties--our enemies--the russian rats--adventures in search of a cat--light-fingered zouaves--crimean thieves--powdering a horse. summer was fairly advanced before the british hotel was anything like finished; indeed, it never was completed, and when we left the hill, a year later, it still wanted shutters. but long before that time spring hill had gained a great reputation. of course, i have nothing to do with what occurred in the camp, although i could not help hearing a great deal about it. mismanagement and privation there might have been, but my business was to make things right in my sphere, and whatever confusion, and disorder existed elsewhere, comfort and order were always to be found at spring hill. when there was no sun elsewhere, some few gleams--so its grateful visitors said--always seemed to have stayed behind, to cheer the weary soldiers that gathered in the british hotel. and, perhaps, as my kind friend _punch_ said, after all these things had become pleasant memories of the past. "the cold without gave a zest, no doubt, to the welcome warmth within; but her smile, good old soul, lent heat to the coal, and power to the pannikin." let me, in a few words, describe the british hotel. it was acknowledged by all to be the most complete thing there. it cost no less than £ . the buildings and yards took up at least an acre of ground, and were as perfect as we could make them. the hotel and storehouse consisted of a long iron room, with counters, closets, and shelves; above it was another low room, used by us for storing our goods, and above this floated a large union-jack. attached to this building was a little kitchen, not unlike a ship's caboose--all stoves and shelves. in addition to the iron house were two wooden houses, with sleeping apartments for myself and mr. day, out-houses for our servants, a canteen for the soldiery, and a large enclosed yard for our stock, full of stables, low huts, and sties. everything, although rough and unpolished, was comfortable and warm; and there was a completeness about the whole which won general admiration. the reader may judge of the manner in which we had stocked the interior of our store from the remark, often repeated by the officers, that you might get everything at mother seacole's, from an anchor down to a needle. in addition, we had for our transport service four carts, and as many horses and mules as could be kept from the thieves. to reckon upon being in possession of these, at any future time, was impossible; we have more than once seen a fair stud stabled at night-time, and on the following morning been compelled to borrow cattle from the land transport camp, to fetch our things up from balaclava. but it must not be supposed that my domestic difficulties came to an end with the completion of the hotel. true, i was in a better position to bear the crimean cold and rain, but my other foes were as busy as ever they had been on the beach at balaclava. thieves, biped and quadruped, human and animal, troubled me more than ever; and perhaps the most difficult to deal with were the least dangerous. the crimean rats, for instance, who had the appetites of london aldermen, and were as little dainty as hungry schoolboys. whether they had left sebastopol, guided by the instinct which leads their kindred in other parts of the world to forsake sinking ships, or because the garrison rations offended their palates, or whether they had patriotically emigrated, to make war against the english larders, i do not pretend to guess; but, whatever was their motive, it drew them in great abundance to spring hill. they occasionally did us damage, in a single night, to the tune of two or three pounds--wasting what they could not devour. you could keep nothing sacred from their strong teeth. when hard pressed they more than once attacked the live sheep; and at last they went so far as to nibble one of our black cooks, francis, who slept among the flour barrels. on the following morning he came to me, his eyes rolling angrily, and his white teeth gleaming, to show me a mangled finger, which they had bitten, and ask me to dress it. he made a great fuss; and a few mornings later he came in a violent passion this time, and gave me instant notice to quit my service, although we were paying him two pounds a week, with board and rations. this time the rats had, it appeared, been bolder, and attacked his head, in a spot where its natural armour, the wool, was thinnest, and the silly fellow had a notion that the souls of the slain russian soldiers had entered the bodies of the rats, and made vengeful war upon their late enemies. driven to such an extremity, i made up my mind to scour the camp, in search of a cat, and, after a long day's hunt, i came to the conclusion that the tale of whittington was by no means an improbable one. indeed, had a brisk young fellow with a cat, of even ordinary skill in its profession, made their appearance at spring hill, i would gladly have put them in the way--of laying the foundation, at least--of a fortune. at last i found a benefactor, in the guards' camp, in colonel d----, of the coldstreams, who kindly promised me a great pet, well known in the camp, and perhaps by some who may read these pages, by the name of pinkie. pinkie was then helping a brother officer to clear his hut, but on the following day a guardsman brought the noble fellow down. he lived in clover for a few days, but he had an english cat-like attachment for his old house, and despite the abundance of game, pinkie soon stole away to his old master's quarters, three miles off. more than once the men brought him back to me, but the attractions of spring hill were never strong enough to detain him long with me. from the human thieves that surrounded spring hill i had to stand as sharp a siege as the russians had in that poor city against which we heard the guns thundering daily; while the most cunning and desperate sorties were often made upon the most exposed parts of my defences, and sometimes with success. scores of the keenest eyes and hundreds of the sharpest fingers in the world were always ready to take advantage of the least oversight. i had to keep two boys, whose chief occupation was to watch the officers' horses, tied up to the doorposts of the british hotel. before i adopted this safeguard, more than one officer would leave his horse for a few minutes, and on his return find it gone to the neighbourhood of the naval brigade, or the horse-fair at kamiesch. my old friends, the zouaves, soon found me out at spring hill, and the wiry, light-fingered, fighting-loving gentry spent much of their leisure there. those confounded trowsers of theirs offered conveniences of stowage-room which they made rare use of. nothing was too small, and few things too unwieldy, to ride in them; like the pockets of clown in a pantomime, they could accommodate a well-grown baby or a pound of sausages equally well. i have a firm conviction that they stuffed turkeys, geese, and fowls into them, and i positively know that my only respectable teapot travelled off in the same conveyance, while i detected one little fellow, who had tied them down tight at his ankles, stowing away some pounds of tea and coffee mixed. some officers, who were present, cut the cords, and, holding up the little scamp by the neck, shook his trowsers empty amid shouts of laughter. our live stock, from the horses and mules down to the geese and fowls, suffered terribly. although we kept a sharp look-out by day, and paid a man five shillings a night as watchman, our losses were very great. during the time we were in the crimea we lost over a score of horses, four mules, eighty goats, many sheep, pigs, and poultry, by thieving alone. we missed in a single night forty goats and seven sheep, and on mr. day's going to head-quarters with intelligence of the disaster, they told him that lord raglan had recently received forty sheep from asia, all of which had disappeared in the same manner. the geese, turkeys, and fowls vanished by scores. we found out afterwards that the watchman paid to guard the sheep, used to kill a few occasionally. as he represented them to have died a natural death during the night, he got permission to bury them, instead of which he sold them. king frost claimed his share of our stock too, and on one december night, of the winter of , killed no less than forty sheep. it is all very well to smile at these things now, but at the time they were heartrending enough, and helped, if they did not cause, the ruin which eventually overtook the firm of seacole and day. the determination and zeal which besiegers and besieged showed with respect to a poor pig, which was quietly and unconsciously fattening in its sty, are worthy of record. fresh pork, in the spring of , was certainly one of those luxuries not easily obtainable in that part of the crimea to which the british army was confined, and when it became known that mother seacole had purchased a promising young porker from one of the ships in balaclava, and that, brave woman! she had formed the courageous resolution of fattening it for her favourites, the excitement among the frequenters of spring hill was very great. i could laugh heartily now, when i think of the amount of persuasion and courting i stood out for before i bound myself how its four legs were to be disposed of. i learnt more at that time of the trials and privileges of authority than i am ever likely to experience again. upon my word, i think if the poor thing had possessed as many legs as my editor tells me somebody called the hydra (with whom my readers are perhaps more familiar than i am) had heads, i should have found candidates for them. as it was, the contest for those i had to bestow was very keen, and the lucky individuals who were favoured by me looked after their interests most carefully. one of them, to render mistake or misunderstanding impossible, entered my promise in my day-book. the reader will perhaps smile at the following important memorandum in the gallant officer's writing:-- "memorandum that mrs. seacole did this day, in the presence of major a---- and lieutenant w----, promise captain h----, r.a., a leg of _the_ pig." now it was well known that many greedy eyes and fingers were directed towards the plump fellow, and considerable interest was manifested in the result of the struggle, "mrs. seacole _versus_ thievery." i think they had some confidence in me, and that i was the favourite; but there was a large field against me, which found its backers also; and many a bet was laughingly laid on the ultimate fate of the unconscious porker. i baffled many a knavish trick to gain possession of the fine fellow; but, after all, i lost him in the middle of the day, when i thought the boldest rogues would not have run the risk. the shouts and laughter of some officers who were riding down from the front first informed me of my loss. up they rode, calling out--"mother seacole! old lady! quick!--_the_ pig's gone!" i rushed out, injured woman that i was, and saw it all at a glance. but that my straw wide-awake was in the way, i could have torn my hair in my vexation. i rushed to the sty, found the nest warm, and with prompt decision prepared for speedy pursuit. back i came to the horsemen, calling out--"off with you, my sons!--they can't have got very far away yet. do your best to save my bacon!" delighted with the fun, the horsemen dispersed, laughing and shouting--"stole away! hark away!" while i ran indoors, turned out all my available body-guard, and started in pursuit also. not half a mile off we soon saw a horseman wave his cap; and starting off into a run, came to a little hollow, where the poor panting animal and two greek thieves had been run down. the provost-marshal took the latter in hand willingly, and piggy was brought home in triumph. but those who had pork expectancies, hearing of the adventure, grew so seriously alarmed at the narrow escape, that they petitioned me to run so desperate a hazard no longer; and the poor thing was killed on the following day, and distributed according to promise. a certain portion was reserved for sausages, which, fried with mashed potatoes, were quite the rage at the british hotel for some days. some pork was also sent to head-quarters, with an account of the dangers we ran from thieves. it drew the following kind acknowledgment from general b----: "head-quarters. "my dear mrs. seacole,--i am very much obliged to you indeed for your pork. i have spoken to colonel p---- as to the police of your neighbourhood, and he will see what arrangement can be made for the general protection of that line of road. when the high-road is finished, you will be better off. let me know at the time of any depredations that are committed, and we will try and protect you.--i am, faithfully yours, "m. l. b----." for the truth was--although i can laugh at my fears now--i was often most horribly frightened at spring hill; and there was cause for it too. my washerwoman, who, with her family, lived not half a mile from us, was with me one day, and carried off some things for the wash. on the following morning i was horrified to learn that she, her father, husband, and children--in all, seven--had been most foully murdered during the night: only one of the whole family recovered from her wounds, and lived to tell the tale. it created a great sensation at the time, and caused me to pass many a sleepless night, for the murderers were never discovered. whilst i am upon the subject of crimean thievery, i may as well exhaust it without paying any regard to the chronological order of my reminiscences. i have before mentioned what i suffered from the french. one day i caught one of our allies in my kitchen, robbing me in the most ungrateful manner. he had met with an accident near spring hill (i believe he belonged to a french regiment lent to assist the english in road-making), and had been doctored by me; and now i found him filling his pockets, before taking "french" leave of us. my black man, francis, pulled from his pockets a yet warm fowl, and other provisions. we kicked him off the premises, and he found refuge with some men of the army works corps, who pitied him and gave him shelter. he woke them in the middle of the night, laying hands rather clumsily on everything that was removeable; and in the morning they brought him to me, to ask what they should do with him. unluckily for him, a french officer of rank happened to be in the store, who, on hearing our tale, packed him off to his regiment. i gathered from the expression of the officer's face, and the dread legible upon the culprit's, that it might be some considerable time before his itch for breaking the eighth commandment could be again indulged in. the trouble i underwent respecting a useful black mare, for which mr. day had given thirty guineas, and which carried me beautifully, was immense. before it had been many weeks in our store it was gone--whither, i failed to discover. keeping my eyes wide open, however, i saw "angelina"--so i christened her--coming quietly down the hill, carrying an elderly naval officer. i was ready to receive the unconscious couple, and soon made my claim good. of course, the officer was not to blame. he had bought it of a sailor, who in his turn had purchased the animal of a messmate, who of course had obtained it from another, and so on; but eventually it returned to its old quarters, where it only remained about a fortnight. i grew tired of looking for angelina, and had given her up, when one day she turned up, in capital condition, in the possession of a french officer of chasseurs. but nothing i could say to the frenchman would induce him to take the view of the matter i wished, but had no right to enforce. he had bought the horse at kamiesch, and intended to keep it. we grew hot at last; and our dispute drew out so large an audience that the frenchman took alarm, and tried to make off. i held on to angelina for a little while; but at last the mare broke away from me, as tam o' shanter's maggie did from the witches (i don't mean that she left me even her tail), and vanished in a cloud of dust. it was the last i ever saw of angelina. more than once the crimean thievery reduced us to woeful straits. to a greek, returning to constantinople, we entrusted (after the murder of our washerwoman) two trunks, containing "things for the wash," which he was to bring back as soon as possible. but neither upon greek, trunks, nor their contents did we ever set eyes again. it was a serious loss. the best part of our table-cloths and other domestic linen, all my clothes, except two suits, and all of mr. day's linen vanished, and had to be replaced as best we could by fresh purchases from kamiesch and kadikoi. perhaps the most ridiculous shift i was ever put to by the crimean thieves happened when we rose one morning and found the greater part of our stud missing. i had, in the course of the day, urgent occasion to ride over to the french camp on the tchernaya; the only animal available for my transport was an old grey mare, who had contracted some equine disease of which i do not know the name, but which gave her considerable resemblance to a dog suffering from the mange. now, go to the french camp i must; to borrow a horse was impossible, and something must be done with the grey. suddenly one of those happy thoughts, which sometimes help us over our greatest difficulties, entered into my scheming brains. could i not conceal the poor mare's worst blemishes. her colour was grey; would not a thick coating of flour from my dredger make all right? there was no time to be lost; the remedy was administered successfully, and off i started; but, alas! the wind was high and swept the skirts of my riding habit so determinedly against the side of the poor beast, that before long its false coat was transferred to the dark cloth, and my innocent _ruse_ exposed. the french are proverbially and really a polite and considerate nation, but i never heard more hearty peals of laughter from any sides than those which conveyed to me the horrible assurance that my scheme had unhappily failed. chapter xiii. my work in the crimea. i hope the reader will give me credit for the assertion that i am about to make, viz., that i enter upon the particulars of this chapter with great reluctance; but i cannot omit them, for the simple reason that they strengthen my one and only claim to interest the public, viz., my services to the brave british army in the crimea. but, fortunately, i can follow a course which will not only render it unnecessary for me to sound my own trumpet, but will be more satisfactory to the reader. i can put on record the written opinions of those who had ample means of judging and ascertaining how i fulfilled the great object which i had in view in leaving england for the crimea; and before i do so, i must solicit my readers' attention to the position i held in the camp as doctress, nurse, and "mother." i have never been long in any place before i have found my practical experience in the science of medicine useful. even in london i have found it of service to others. and in the crimea, where the doctors were so overworked, and sickness was so prevalent, i could not be long idle; for i never forgot that my intention in seeking the army was to help the kind-hearted doctors, to be useful to whom i have ever looked upon and still regard as so high a privilege. but before very long i found myself surrounded with patients of my own, and this for two simple reasons. in the first place, the men (i am speaking of the "ranks" now) had a very serious objection to going into hospital for any but urgent reasons, and the regimental doctors were rather fond of sending them there; and, in the second place, they could and did get at my store sick-comforts and nourishing food, which the heads of the medical staff would sometimes find it difficult to procure. these reasons, with the additional one that i was very familiar with the diseases which they suffered most from, and successful in their treatment (i say this in no spirit of vanity), were quite sufficient to account for the numbers who came daily to the british hotel for medical treatment. that the officers were glad of me as a doctress and nurse may be easily understood. when a poor fellow lay sickening in his cheerless hut and sent down to me, he knew very well that i should not ride up in answer to his message empty-handed. and although i did not hesitate to charge him with the value of the necessaries i took him, still he was thankful enough to be able to _purchase_ them. when we lie ill at home surrounded with comfort, we never think of feeling any special gratitude for the sick-room delicacies which we accept as a consequence of our illness; but the poor officer lying ill and weary in his crazy hut, dependent for the merest necessaries of existence upon a clumsy, ignorant soldier-cook, who would almost prefer eating his meat raw to having the trouble of cooking it (our english soldiers are bad campaigners), often finds his greatest troubles in the want of those little delicacies with which a weak stomach must be humoured into retaining nourishment. how often have i felt sad at the sight of poor lads, who in england thought attending early parade a hardship, and felt harassed if their neckcloths set awry, or the natty little boots would not retain their polish, bearing, and bearing so nobly and bravely, trials and hardships to which the veteran campaigner frequently succumbed. don't you think, reader, if you were lying, with parched lips and fading appetite, thousands of miles from mother, wife, or sister, loathing the rough food by your side, and thinking regretfully of that english home where nothing that could minister to your great need would be left untried--don't you think that you would welcome the familiar figure of the stout lady whose bony horse has just pulled up at the door of your hut, and whose panniers contain some cooling drink, a little broth, some homely cake, or a dish of jelly or blanc-mange--don't you think, under such circumstances, that you would heartily agree with my friend _punch's_ remark:-- "that berry-brown face, with a kind heart's trace impressed on each wrinkle sly, was a sight to behold, through the snow-clouds rolled across that iron sky." i tell you, reader, i have seen many a bold fellow's eyes moisten at such a season, when a woman's voice and a woman's care have brought to their minds recollections of those happy english homes which some of them never saw again; but many did, who will remember their woman-comrade upon the bleak and barren heights before sebastopol. then their calling me "mother" was not, i think, altogether unmeaning. i used to fancy that there was something homely in the word; and, reader, you cannot think how dear to them was the smallest thing that reminded them of home. some of my crimean patients, who were glad of me as nurse and doctress, bore names familiar to all england, and perhaps, did i ask them, they would allow me to publish those names. i am proud to think that a gallant sailor, on whose brave breast the order of victoria rests--a more gallant man can never wear it--sent for the doctress whom he had known in kingston, when his arm, wounded on the fatal th of june, refused to heal, and i think that the application i recommended did it good; but i shall let some of my patients' letters, taken from a large bundle, speak for me. of course i must suppress most of their names. here are two from one of my best and kindest sons. "my dear mamma,--will you kindly give the bearer the bottle you promised me when you were here this morning, for my jaundice. please let me know how much i am to take of it. yours truly, "f. m., _c. e._" you see the medicine does him good, for a few days later comes another from the same writer:-- "my dear mrs. seacole,--i have finished the bottle, which has done my jaundice a deal of good. will you kindly send another by bearer. truly yours, "f. m." it was a capital prescription which had done his jaundice good. there was so great a demand for it, that i kept it mixed in a large pan, ready to ladle it out to the scores of applicants who came for it. sometimes they would send for other and no less important medicines. here is such an application from a sick officer:-- "mrs. seacole would confer a favour on the writer, who is very ill, by giving his servant (the bearer) a boiled or roast fowl; if it be impossible to obtain them, some chicken broth would be very acceptable. "i am yours, truly obliged, "j. k., th r. s." doesn't that read like a sick man's letter, glad enough to welcome any woman's face? here are some gentlemen of the commissariat anxious to speak for me:-- "arthur c----, comm. staff officer, having been attacked one evening with a very bad diarrhoea at mrs. seacole's, took some of her good medicine. it cured me before the next morning, and i have never been attacked since.--october th, ." "archibald r. l----, comm. staff, crimea, was suffering from diarrhoea for a week or more; after taking mrs. seacole's good medicines for two days, he became quite well, and remained so to this day.--october th, ." here is mr. m----, paymaster of the land transport corps, ready with a good account of my services:-- "i certify that madame seacole twice cured me effectually of dysentery while in the crimea, and also my clerk and the men of my corps, to my certain knowledge." and some of the men shall speak for themselves:-- "stationary engine, december , . "i certify that i was severely attacked by diarrhoea after landing in the crimea. i took a great deal of medicine, but nothing served me until i called on mrs. seacole. she gave me her medicine but once, and i was cured effectually. "wm. knollys, sergt., l.t.c." "this is to certify that wm. row, l.t.c, had a severe attack of illness, and was in a short time restored to health by the prompt attention and medical skill of mrs. seacole, british hotel, spring hill, crimea." many of my patients belonged to the land transport and army works corps. the former indeed were in my close neighbourhood, and their hospital was nearly opposite to the british hotel. i did all i could for them, and have many letters expressive of their gratitude. from them i select the following:-- "head-quarters, camp, crimea, june , . "i have much pleasure in bearing testimony to mrs. seacole's kindness and attention to the sick of the railway labourers' army works corps and land transport corps during the winters of and . "she not only, from the knowledge she had acquired in the west indies, was enabled to administer appropriate remedies for their ailments, but, what was of as much or more importance, she charitably furnished them with proper nourishment, which they had no means of obtaining except in the hospital, and most of that class had an objection to go into hospital, particularly the railway labourers and the men of the army works corps. "john hall, "inspector-general of hospitals." i hope that mr. p----, of the army works corps, will pardon my laying the following letter before the public:-- "dear mrs. seacole,--it is with feelings of great pleasure that i hear you are safely arrived in england, upon which i beg to congratulate you, and return you many thanks for your kindness whilst in the crimea. "the bitter sherry you kindly made up for me was in truth a great blessing to both myself and my son, and as i expect to go to bombay shortly, i would feel grateful to you if you would favour me with the receipt for making it, as it appears to be so very grateful a beverage for weakness and bowel complaints in a warm climate. with many kind regards, believe me, dear madam, your obliged servant, "samuel p----, "late superintendent army works corps." here is a certificate from one of the army works' men, to whose case i devoted no little time and trouble:-- "i certify that i was labouring under a severe attack of diarrhoea last august, and that i was restored to health through the instrumentality and kindness of mrs. seacole. "i also certify that my fingers were severely jammed whilst at work at frenchman's hill, and mrs. seacole cured me after three doctors had fruitlessly attempted to cure them. "and i cannot leave the crimea without testifying to the kindness and skill of mrs. seacole, and may god reward her for it. "james wallen, " th division army works corps." here are three more letters--and the last i shall print--from a sailor, a soldier, and a civilian:-- "this is to certify that wm. adams, caulker, of h.m.s. 'wasp,' and belonging to the royal naval brigade, had a severe attack of cholera, and was cured in a few hours by mrs. seacole." "i certify that i was troubled by a severe inflammation of the chest, caused by exposure in the trenches, for about four months, and that mrs. seacole's medicine completely cured me in one month, and may god reward her. "charles flinn, sergt. rd co. r.s.m." "upper clapton, middlesex, march , . "dear madam,--having been informed by my son, mr. edward gill, of st. george's store, crimea, of his recent illness (jaundice), and of your kind attention and advice to him during that illness, and up to the time he was, by the blessing of god and your assistance, restored to health, permit me, on behalf of myself, my wife, and my family, to return you our most grateful thanks, trusting you may be spared for many years to come, in health of body and vigour of mind, to carry out your benevolent intention. believe me, my dear madam, yours most gratefully, "edward gill." and now that i have made this a chapter of testimonials, i may as well finish them right off, and have done with them altogether. i shall trouble the patient reader with four more only, which i have not the heart to omit. "sebastopol, july , . "mrs. seacole was with the british army in the crimea from february, , to this time. this excellent woman has frequently exerted herself in the most praiseworthy manner in attending wounded men, even in positions of great danger, and in assisting sick soldiers by all means in her power. in addition, she kept a very good store, and supplied us with many comforts at a time we much required them. "wm. p----, "adjutant-general of the british army in the crimea." "july , . "i have much pleasure in stating that i am acquainted with mrs. seacole, and from all that i have seen or heard of her, i believe her to be a useful and good person, kind and charitable. "c. a. w----, "lt.-gen. comm. of sebastopol." the third is from the pen of one who at that time was more looked to, and better known, than any other man in the crimea. in the nd vol. of russell's "letters from the seat of war," p. , is the following entry:-- "in the hour of their illness these men (army works corps), in common with many others, have found a kind and successful physician. close to the railway, half-way between the col de balaclava and kadikoi, mrs. seacole, formerly of kingston and of several other parts of the world, such as panama and chagres, has pitched her abode--an iron storehouse with wooden sheds and outlying tributaries--and here she doctors and cures all manner of men with extraordinary success. she is always in attendance near the battle-field to aid the wounded, and has earned many a poor fellow's blessings." yes! i cannot--referring to that time--conscientiously charge myself with doing less for the men who had only thanks to give me, than for the officers whose gratitude gave me the necessaries of life. i think i was ever ready to turn from the latter to help the former, humble as they might be; and they were grateful in their way, and as far as they could be. they would buy me apples and other fruit at balaclava, and leave them at my store. one made me promise, when i returned home, to send word to his irish mother, who was to send me a cow in token of her gratitude for the help i had been to her son. i have a book filled with hundreds of the names of those who came to me for medicines and other aids; and never a train of sick or wounded men from the front passed the british hotel but its hostess was awaiting them to offer comforts to the poor fellows, for whose suffering her heart bled. _punch_, who allowed my poor name to appear in the pages which had welcomed miss nightingale home--_punch_, that whimsical mouthpiece of some of the noblest hearts that ever beat beneath black coats--shall last of all raise its voice, that never yet pleaded an unworthy cause, for the mother seacole that takes shame to herself for speaking thus of the poor part she bore of the trials and hardships endured on that distant shore, where britain's best and bravest wrung hardly sebastopol from the grasp of britain's foe:-- "no store she set by the epaulette, be it worsted or gold lace; for k. c. b. or plain private smith, she had still one pleasant face. "and not alone was her kindness shown to the hale and hungry lot who drank her grog and ate her prog, and paid their honest shot. "the sick and sorry can tell the story of her nursing and dosing deeds; regimental m.d. never worked as she, in helping sick men's needs. "of such work, god knows, was as much as she chose that dreary winter-tide, when death hung o'er the damp and pestilent camp, and his scythe swung far and wide. "she gave her aid to all who prayed, to hungry and sick and cold; open hand and heart, alike ready to part kind words and acts, and gold. * * * * * "and--be the right man in the right place who can-- the right woman was dame seacole." reader, now that we have come to the end of this chapter, i can say what i have been all anxiety to tell you from its beginning. please look back to chapter viii., and see how hard the right woman had to struggle to convey herself to the right place. chapter xiv. my customers at the british hotel. i shall proceed in this chapter to make the reader acquainted with some of the customers of the british hotel, who came there for its creature comforts as well as its hostess's medicines when need was; and if he or she should be inclined to doubt or should hesitate at accepting my experience of crimean life as entirely credible, i beg that individual to refer to the accounts which were given in the newspapers of the spring of , and i feel sure they will acquit me of any intention to exaggerate. if i were to speak of all the nameless horrors of that spring as plainly as i could, i should really disgust you; but those i shall bring before your notice have all something of the humorous in them--and so it ever is. time is a great restorer, and changes surely the greatest sorrow into a pleasing memory. the sun shines this spring-time upon green grass that covers the graves of the poor fellows we left behind sadly a few short months ago: bright flowers grow up upon ruins of batteries and crumbling trenches, and cover the sod that presses on many a mouldering token of the old time of battle and death. i dare say that, if i went to the crimea now, i should see a smiling landscape, instead of the blood-stained scene which i shall ever associate with distress and death; and as it is with nature so it is with human kind. whenever i meet those who have survived that dreary spring of , we seldom talk about its horrors; but remembering its transient gleams of sunshine, smile at the fun and good nature that varied its long and weary monotony. and now that i am anxious to remember all i can that will interest my readers, my memory prefers to dwell upon what was pleasing and amusing, although the time will never come when it will cease to retain most vividly the pathos and woe of those dreadful months. i have said that the winter had not ended when we began operations at the british hotel; and very often, after we considered we were fairly under spring's influence, our old enemy would come back with an angry roar of wind and rain, levelling tents, unroofing huts, destroying roads, and handing over may to the command of general fevrier. but the sun fought bravely for us, and in time always dispersed the leaden clouds and gilded the iron sky, and made us cheerful again. during the end of march, the whole of april, and a considerable portion of may, however, the army was but a little better off for the advent of spring. the military road to the camp was only in progress--the railway only carried ammunition. a few hours' rain rendered the old road all but impassable, and scarcity often existed in the front before sebastopol, although the frightened and anxious commissariat toiled hard to avert such a mishap; so that very often to the british hotel came officers starved out on the heights above us. the dandies of rotten row would come down riding on sorry nags, ready to carry back--their servants were on duty in the trenches--anything that would be available for dinner. a single glance at their personal appearance would suffice to show the hardships of the life they were called upon to lead. before i left london for the seat of war i had been more than once to the united service club, seeking to gain the interest of officers whom i had known in jamaica; and i often thought afterwards of the difference between those i saw there trimly shaven, handsomely dressed, with spotless linen and dandy air, and these their companions, who in england would resemble them. roughly, warmly dressed, with great fur caps, which met their beards and left nothing exposed but lips and nose, and not much of those; you would easily believe that soap and water were luxuries not readily obtainable, that shirts and socks were often comforts to dream about rather than possess, and that they were familiar with horrors you would shudder to hear named. tell me, reader, can you fancy what the want of so simple a thing as a pocket-handkerchief is? to put a case--have you ever gone out for the day without one; sat in a draught and caught a sneezing cold in the head? you say the question is an unnecessarily unpleasant one, and yet what i am about to tell you is true, and the sufferer is, i believe, still alive. an officer had ridden down one day to obtain refreshments (this was very early in the spring); some nice fowls had just been taken from the spit, and i offered one to him. paper was one of the most hardly obtainable luxuries of the crimea, and i rarely had any to waste upon my customers; so i called out, "give me your pocket-handkerchief, my son, that i may wrap it up." you see we could not be very particular out there; but he smiled very bitterly as he answered, "pocket-handkerchief, mother--by jove! i wish i had one. i tore my last shirt into shreds a fortnight ago, and there's not a bit of it left now." shortly after, a hundred dozen of these useful articles came to my store, and i sold them all to officers and men very speedily. for some time, and until i found the task beyond my strength, i kept up a capital table at the british hotel; but at last i gave up doing so professedly, and my hungry customers had to make shift with whatever was on the premises. fortunately they were not over-dainty, and had few antipathies. my duties increased so rapidly, that sometimes it was with difficulty that i found time to eat and sleep. could i have obtained good servants, my daily labours would have been lightened greatly; but my staff never consisted of more than a few boys, two black cooks, some turks--one of whom, osman, had enough to do to kill and pluck the poultry, while the others looked after the stock and killed our goats and sheep--and as many runaway sailors or good-for-noughts in search of employment as we could from time to time lay our hands upon; but they never found my larder entirely empty. i often used to roast a score or so of fowls daily, besides boiling hams and tongues. either these or a slice from a joint of beef or mutton you would be pretty sure of finding at your service in the larder of the british hotel. would you like, gentle reader, to know what other things suggestive of home and its comforts your relatives and friends in the crimea could obtain from the hostess of spring hill? i do not tell you that the following articles were all obtainable at the commencement, but many were. the time was indeed when, had you asked me for mock turtle and venison, you should have had them, preserved in tins, but that was when the crimea was flooded with plenty--too late, alas! to save many whom want had killed; but had you been doing your best to batter sebastopol about the ears of the russians in the spring and summer of the year before last, the firm of seacole and day would have been happy to have served you with (i omit ordinary things) linen and hosiery, saddlery, caps, boots and shoes, for the outer man; and for the inner man, meat and soups of every variety in tins (you can scarcely conceive how disgusted we all became at last with preserved provisions); salmon, lobsters, and oysters, also in tins, which last beaten up into fritters, with onions, butter, eggs, pepper, and salt, were very good; game, wild fowl, vegetables, also preserved, eggs, sardines, curry powder, cigars, tobacco, snuff, cigarette papers, tea, coffee, tooth powder, and currant jelly. when cargoes came in from constantinople, we bought great supplies of potatoes, carrots, turnips, and greens. ah! what a rush there used to be for the greens. you might sometimes get hot rolls; but, generally speaking, i bought the turkish bread (_ekmek_), baked at balaclava. or had you felt too ill to partake of your rough camp fare, coarsely cooked by a soldier cook, who, unlike the french, could turn his hand to few things but fighting, and had ridden down that muddy road to the col, to see what mother seacole could give you for dinner, the chances were you would have found a good joint of mutton, not of the fattest, forsooth; for in such miserable condition were the poor beasts landed, that once, when there came an urgent order from head-quarters for twenty-five pounds of mutton, we had to cut up one sheep and a half to provide the quantity; or you would have stumbled upon something curried, or upon a good irish stew, nice and hot, with plenty of onions and potatoes, or upon some capital meat-pies. i found the preserved meats were better relished cooked in this fashion, and well doctored with stimulants. before long i grew as familiar with the mysteries of seasoning as any london pieman, and could accommodate myself to the requirements of the seasons as readily. or had there been nothing better, you might have gone further and fared on worse fare than one of my welch rabbits, for the manufacture of which i became so famous. and had you been fortunate enough to have visited the british hotel upon rice-pudding day, i warrant you would have ridden back to your hut with kind thoughts of mother seacole's endeavours to give you a taste of home. if i had nothing else to be proud of, i think my rice puddings, made without milk, upon the high road to sebastopol, would have gained me a reputation. what a shout there used to be when i came out of my little caboose, hot and flurried, and called out, "rice-pudding day, my sons." some of them were baked in large shallow pans, for the men and the sick, who always said that it reminded them of home. you would scarcely expect to finish up your dinner with pastry, but very often you would have found a good stock of it in my larder. whenever i had a few leisure moments, i used to wash my hands, roll up my sleeves and roll out pastry. very often i was interrupted to dispense medicines; but if the tarts had a flavour of senna, or the puddings tasted of rhubarb, it never interfered with their consumption. i declare i never heard or read of an army so partial to pastry as that british army before sebastopol; while i had a reputation for my sponge-cakes that any pastry-cook in london, even gunter, might have been proud of. the officers, full of fun and high spirits, used to crowd into the little kitchen, and, despite all my remonstrances, which were not always confined to words, for they made me frantic sometimes, and an iron spoon is a tempting weapon, would carry off the tarts hot from the oven, while the good-for-nothing black cooks, instead of lending me their aid, would stand by and laugh with all their teeth. and when the hot season commenced, the crowds that came to the british hotel for my claret and cider cups, and other cooling summer drinks, were very complimentary in their expressions of appreciation of my skill. now, supposing that you had made a hearty dinner and were thinking of starting homeward--if i can use so pleasant a term in reference to your cheerless quarters--it was very natural that you should be anxious to carry back something to your hut. perhaps you expected to be sent into the trenches (many a supper cooked by me has been consumed in those fearful trenches by brave men, who could eat it with keen appetites while the messengers of death were speeding around them); or perhaps you had planned a little dinner-party, and wanted to give your friends something better than their ordinary fare. anyhow, you would in all probability have some good reason for returning laden with comforts and necessaries from spring hill. you would not be very particular about carrying them. you might have been a great swell at home, where you would have shuddered if bond street had seen you carrying a parcel no larger than your card-case; but those considerations rarely troubled you here. very likely, your servant was lying crouched in a rifle pit, having "pots" at the russians, or keeping watch and ward in the long lines of trenches, or, stripped to his shirt, shovelling powder and shot into the great guns, whose steady roar broke the evening's calm. so if you did not wait upon yourself, you would stand a very fair chance of being starved. but you would open your knapsack, if you had brought one, for me to fill it with potatoes, and halloo out, "never mind, mother!" although the gravy from the fowls on your saddle before you was soaking through the little modicum of paper which was all i could afford you. so laden, you would cheerfully start up the hill of mud hutward; and well for you if you did not come to grief on that treacherous sea of mud that lay swelling between the col and your destination. many a mishap, ludicrous but for their consequences, happened on it. i remember a young officer coming down one day just in time to carry off my last fowl and meat pie. before he had gone far, the horse so floundered in the mud that the saddle-girths broke, and while the pies rolled into the clayey soil in one direction, the fowl flew in another. to make matters worse, the horse, in his efforts to extricate himself, did for them entirely; and in terrible distress, the poor fellow came back for me to set him up again. i shook my head for a long time, but at last, after he had over and over again urged upon me pathetically that he had two fellows coming to dine with him at six, and nothing in the world in his hut but salt pork, i resigned a plump fowl which i had kept back for my own dinner. off he started again, but soon came back with, "oh, mother, i forgot all about the potatoes; they've all rolled out upon that ---- road; you must fill my bag again." we all laughed heartily at him, but this state of things _had_ been rather tragical. before i bring this chapter to a close, i should like, with the reader's permission, to describe one day of my life in the crimea. they were all pretty much alike, except when there was fighting upon a large scale going on, and duty called me to the field. i was generally up and busy by daybreak, sometimes earlier, for in the summer my bed had no attractions strong enough to bind me to it after four. there was plenty to do before the work of the day began. there was the poultry to pluck and prepare for cooking, which had been killed on the previous night; the joints to be cut up and got ready for the same purpose; the medicines to be mixed; the store to be swept and cleaned. of very great importance, with all these things to see after, were the few hours of quiet before the road became alive with travellers. by seven o'clock the morning coffee would be ready, hot and refreshing, and eagerly sought for by the officers of the army works corps engaged upon making the great high-road to the front, and the commissariat and land transport men carrying stores from balaclava to the heights. there was always a great demand for coffee by those who knew its refreshing and strengthening qualities, milk i could not give them (i kept it in tins for special use); but they had it hot and strong, with plenty of sugar and a slice of butter, which i recommend as a capital substitute for milk. from that time until nine, officers on duty in the neighbourhood, or passing by, would look in for breakfast, and about half-past nine my sick patients began to show themselves. in the following hour they came thickly, and sometimes it was past twelve before i had got through this duty. they came with every variety of suffering and disease; the cases i most disliked were the frostbitten fingers and feet in the winter. that over, there was the hospital to visit across the way, which was sometimes overcrowded with patients. i was a good deal there, and as often as possible would take over books and papers, which i used to borrow for that purpose from my friends and the officers i knew. once, a great packet of tracts was sent to me from plymouth anonymously, and these i distributed in the same manner. by this time the day's news had come from the front, and perhaps among the casualties over night there would be some one wounded or sick, who would be glad to see me ride up with the comforts he stood most in need of; and during the day, if any accident occurred in the neighbourhood or on the road near the british hotel, the men generally brought the sufferer there, whence, if the hurt was serious, he would be transferred to the hospital of the land transport opposite. i used not always to stand upon too much ceremony when i heard of sick or wounded officers in the front. sometimes their friends would ask me to go to them, though very often i waited for no hint, but took the chance of meeting with a kind reception. i used to think of their relatives at home, who would have given so much to possess my privilege; and more than one officer have i startled by appearing before him, and telling him abruptly that he must have a mother, wife, or sister at home whom he missed, and that he must therefore be glad of some woman to take their place. until evening the store would be filled with customers wanting stores, dinners, and luncheons; loungers and idlers seeking conversation and amusement; and at eight o'clock the curtain descended on that day's labour, and i could sit down and eat at leisure. it was no easy thing to clear the store, canteen, and yards; but we determined upon adhering to the rule that nothing should be sold after that hour, and succeeded. any one who came after that time, came simply as a friend. there could be no necessity for any one, except on extraordinary occasions, when the rule could be relaxed, to purchase things after eight o'clock. and drunkenness or excess were discouraged at spring hill in every way; indeed, my few unpleasant scenes arose chiefly from my refusing to sell liquor where i saw it was wanted to be abused. i could appeal with a clear conscience to all who knew me there, to back my assertion that i neither permitted drunkenness among the men nor gambling among the officers. whatever happened elsewhere, intoxication, cards, and dice were never to be seen, within the precincts of the british hotel. my regulations were well known, and a kind-hearted officer of the royals, who was much there, and who permitted me to use a familiarity towards him which i trust i never abused, undertook to be my provost-marshal, but his duties were very light. at first we kept our store open on sunday from sheer necessity, but after a little while, when stores in abundance were established at kadikoi and elsewhere, and the absolute necessity no longer existed, sunday became a day of most grateful rest at spring hill. this step also met with opposition from the men; but again we were determined, and again we triumphed. i am sure we needed rest. i have often wondered since how it was that i never fell ill or came home "on urgent private affairs." i am afraid that i was not sufficiently thankful to the providence which gave me strength to carry out the work i loved so well, and felt so happy in being engaged upon; but although i never had a week's illness during my campaign, the labour, anxiety, and perhaps the few trials that followed it, have told upon me. i have never felt since that time the strong and hearty woman that i was when i braved with impunity the pestilence of navy bay and cruces. it would kill me easily now. chapter xv. my first glimpse of war--advance of my turkish friends on kamara--visitors to the camp--miss nightingale--mons. soyer and the cholera--summer in the crimea--"thirsty souls"--death busy in the trenches. in the last three chapters, i have attempted, without any consideration of dates, to give my readers some idea of my life in the crimea. i am fully aware that i have jumbled up events strangely, talking in the same page, and even sentence, of events which occurred at different times; but i have three excuses to offer for my unhistorical inexactness. in the first place, my memory is far from trustworthy, and i kept no written diary; in the second place, the reader must have had more than enough of journals and chronicles of crimean life, and i am only the historian of spring hill; and in the third place, unless i am allowed to tell the story of my life in my own way, i cannot tell it at all. i shall now endeavour to describe my out-of-door life as much as possible, and write of those great events in the field of which i was a humble witness. but i shall continue to speak from my own experience simply; and if the reader should be surprised at my leaving any memorable action of the army unnoticed, he may be sure that it is because i was mixing medicines or making good things in the kitchen of the british hotel, and first heard the particulars of it, perhaps, from the newspapers which came from home. my readers must know, too, that they were much more familiar with the history of the camp at their own firesides, than we who lived in it. just as a spectator seeing one of the battles from a hill, as i did the tchernaya, knows more about it than the combatant in the valley below, who only thinks of the enemy whom it is his immediate duty to repel; so you, through the valuable aid of the cleverest man in the whole camp, read in the _times'_ columns the details of that great campaign, while we, the actors in it, had enough to do to discharge our own duties well, and rarely concerned ourselves in what seemed of such importance to you. and so very often a desperate skirmish or hard-fought action, the news of which created so much sensation in england, was but little regarded at spring hill. my first experience of battle was pleasant enough. before we had been long at spring hill, omar pasha got something for his turks to do, and one fine morning they were marched away towards the russian outposts on the road to baidar. i accompanied them on horseback, and enjoyed the sight amazingly. english and french cavalry preceded the turkish infantry over the plain yet full of memorials of the terrible light cavalry charge a few months before; and while one detachment of the turks made a reconnaissance to the right of the tchernaya, another pushed their way up the hill, towards kamara, driving in the russian outposts, after what seemed but a slight resistance. it was very pretty to see them advance, and to watch how every now and then little clouds of white smoke puffed up from behind bushes and the crests of hills, and were answered by similar puffs from the long line of busy skirmishers that preceded the main body. this was my first experience of actual battle, and i felt that strange excitement which i do not remember on future occasions, coupled with an earnest longing to see more of warfare, and to share in its hazards. it was not long before my wish was gratified. i do not know much of the second bombardment of sebastopol in the month of april, although i was as assiduous as i could be in my attendance at cathcart's hill. i could judge of its severity by the long trains of wounded which passed the british hotel. i had a stretcher laid near the door, and very often a poor fellow was laid upon it, outwearied by the terrible conveyance from the front. after this unsuccessful bombardment, it seemed to us that there was a sudden lull in the progress of the siege; and other things began to interest us. there were several arrivals to talk over. miss nightingale came to supervise the balaclava hospitals, and, before long, she had practical experience of crimean fever. after her, came the duke of newcastle, and the great high priest of the mysteries of cookery, mons. alexis soyer. he was often at spring hill, with the most smiling of faces and in the most gorgeous of irregular uniforms, and never failed to praise my soups and dainties. i always flattered myself that i was his match, and with our west indian dishes could of course beat him hollow, and more than once i challenged him to a trial of skill; but the gallant frenchman only shrugged his shoulders, and disclaimed my challenge with many flourishes of his jewelled hands, declaring that madame proposed a contest where victory would cost him his reputation for gallantry, and be more disastrous than defeat. and all because i was a woman, forsooth. what nonsense to talk like that, when i was doing the work of half a dozen men. then he would laugh and declare that, when our campaigns were over, we would render rivalry impossible, by combining to open the first restaurant in europe. there was always fun in the store when the good-natured frenchman was there. one dark, tempestuous night, i was knocked up by the arrival of other visitors. these were the first regiment of sardinian grenadiers, who, benighted on their way to the position assigned them, remained at spring hill until the morning. we soon turned out our staff, and lighted up the store, and entertained the officers as well as we could inside, while the soldiers bivouacked in the yards around. not a single thing was stolen or disturbed that night, although they had many opportunities. we all admired and liked the sardinians; they were honest, well-disciplined fellows, and i wish there had been no worse men or soldiers in the crimea. as the season advanced many visitors came to the crimea from all parts of the world, and many of them were glad to make spring hill their head-quarters. we should have been better off if some of them had spared us this compliment. a captain st. clair, for instance--who could doubt any one with such a name?--stayed some time with us, had the best of everything, and paid us most honourably with one bill upon his agents, while we cashed another to provide him with money for his homeward route. he was an accomplished fellow, and i really liked him; but, unfortunately for us, he was a swindler. i saw much of another visitor to the camp in the crimea--an old acquaintance of mine with whom i had had many a hard bout in past times--the cholera. there were many cases in the hospital of the land transport corps opposite, and i prescribed for many others personally. the raki sold in too many of the stores in balaclava and kadikoi was most pernicious; and although the authorities forbade the sutlers to sell it, under heavy penalties, it found its way into the camp in large quantities. during may, and while preparations were being made for the third great bombardment of the ill-fated city, summer broke beautifully, and the weather, chequered occasionally by fitful intervals of cold and rain, made us all cheerful. you would scarcely have believed that the happy, good-humoured, and jocular visitors to the british hotel were the same men who had a few weeks before ridden gloomily through the muddy road to its door. it was a period of relaxation, and they all enjoyed it. amusement was the order of the day. races, dog-hunts, cricket-matches, and dinner-parties were eagerly indulged in, and in all i could be of use to provide the good cheer which was so essential a part of these entertainments; and when the warm weather came in all its intensity, and i took to manufacturing cooling beverages for my friends and customers, my store was always full. to please all was somewhat difficult, and occasionally some of them were scarcely so polite as they should have been to a perplexed hostess, who could scarcely be expected to remember that lieutenant a. had bespoken his sangaree an instant before captain b. and his friends had ordered their claret cup. in anticipation of the hot weather, i had laid in a large stock of raspberry vinegar, which, properly managed, helps to make a pleasant drink; and there was a great demand for sangaree, claret, and cider cups, the cups being battered pewter pots. would you like, reader, to know my recipe for the favourite claret cup? it is simple enough. claret, water, lemon-peel, sugar, nutmeg, and--ice--yes, ice, but not often and not for long, for the eager officers soon made an end of it. sometimes there were dinner-parties at spring hill, but of these more hereafter. at one of the earliest, when the _times_ correspondent was to be present, i rode down to kadikoi, bought some calico and cut it up into table napkins. they all laughed very heartily, and thought perhaps of a few weeks previously, when every available piece of linen in the camp would have been snapped up for pocket-handkerchiefs. but the reader must not forget that all this time, although there might be only a few short and sullen roars of the great guns by day, few nights passed without some fighting in the trenches; and very often the news of the morning would be that one or other of those i knew had fallen. these tidings often saddened me, and when i awoke in the night and heard the thunder of the guns fiercer than usual, i have quite dreaded the dawn which might usher in bad news. the deaths in the trenches touched me deeply, perhaps for this reason. it was very usual, when a young officer was ordered into the trenches, for him to ride down to spring hill to dine, or obtain something more than his ordinary fare to brighten his weary hours in those fearful ditches. they seldom failed on these occasions to shake me by the hand at parting, and sometimes would say, "you see, mrs. seacole, i can't say good-bye to the dear ones at home, so i'll bid you good-bye for them. perhaps you'll see them some day, and if the russians should knock me over, mother, just tell them i thought of them all--will you?" and although all this might be said in a light-hearted manner, it was rather solemn. i felt it to be so, for i never failed (although who was i, that i should preach?) to say something about god's providence and relying upon it; and they were very good. no army of parsons could be much better than my sons. they would listen very gravely, and shake me by the hand again, while i felt that there was nothing in the world i would not do for them. then very often the men would say, "i'm going in with my master to-night, mrs. seacole; come and look after him, if he's hit;" and so often as this happened i would pass the night restlessly, awaiting with anxiety the morning, and yet dreading to hear the news it held in store for me. i used to think it was like having a large family of children ill with fever, and dreading to hear which one had passed away in the night. and as often as the bad news came, i thought it my duty to ride up to the hut of the sufferer and do my woman's work. but i felt it deeply. how could it be otherwise? there was one poor boy in the artillery, with blue eyes and light golden hair, whom i nursed through a long and weary sickness, borne with all a man's spirit, and whom i grew to love like a fond old-fashioned mother. i thought if ever angels watched over any life, they would shelter his; but one day, but a short time after he had left his sick-bed, he was struck down on his battery, working like a young hero. it was a long time before i could banish from my mind the thought of him as i saw him last, the yellow hair, stiff and stained with his life-blood, and the blue eyes closed in the sleep of death. of course, i saw him buried, as i did poor h---- v----, my old jamaica friend, whose kind face was so familiar to me of old. another good friend i mourned bitterly--captain b----, of the coldstreams--a great cricketer. he had been with me on the previous evening, had seemed dull, but had supped at my store, and on the following morning a brother officer told me he was shot dead while setting his pickets, which made me ill and unfit for work for the whole day. mind you, a day was a long time to give to sorrow in the crimea. i could give many other similar instances, but why should i sadden myself or my readers? others have described the horrors of those fatal trenches; but their real history has never been written, and perhaps it is as well that so harrowing a tale should be left in oblivion. such anecdotes as the following were very current in the camp, but i have no means of answering for its truth. two sergeants met in the trenches, who had been schoolmates in their youth; years had passed since they set out for the battle of life by different roads, and now they met again under the fire of a common enemy. with one impulse they started forward to exchange the hearty hand-shake and the mutual greetings, and while their hands were still clasped, a chance shot killed both. chapter xvi. under fire on the fatal th of june--before the redan--at the cemetery--the armistice--deaths at head-quarters--depression in the camp--plenty in the crimea--the plague of flies--under fire at the battle of the tchernaya--work on the field--my patients. before i left the crimea to return to england, the adjutant-general of the british army gave me a testimonial, which the reader has already read in chapter xiv., in which he stated that i had "frequently exerted myself in the most praiseworthy manner in attending wounded men, even in positions of great danger." the simple meaning of this sentence is that, in the discharge of what i conceived to be my duty, i was frequently "under fire." now i am far from wishing to speak of this fact with any vanity or pride, because, after all, one soon gets accustomed to it, and it fails at last to create more than temporary uneasiness. indeed, after sebastopol was ours, you might often see officers and men strolling coolly, even leisurely, across and along those streets, exposed to the enemy's fire, when a little haste would have carried them beyond the reach of danger. the truth was, i believe, they had grown so habituated to being in peril from shot or shell, that they rather liked the sensation, and found it difficult to get on without a little gratuitous excitement and danger. but putting aside the great engagements, where i underwent considerable peril, one could scarcely move about the various camps without some risk. the russians had, it seemed, sunk great ships' guns into the earth, from which they fired shot and shell at a very long range, which came tumbling and plunging between, and sometimes into the huts and tents, in a very unwieldy and generally harmless fashion. once when i was riding through the camp of the rifles, a round shot came plunging towards me, and before i or the horse had time to be much frightened, the ugly fellow buried itself in the earth, with a heavy "thud," a little distance in front of us. in the first week of june, the third bombardment of sebastopol opened, and the spring hill visitors had plenty to talk about. many were the surmises as to when the assault would take place, of the success of which nobody entertained a doubt. somehow or other, important secrets oozed out in various parts of the camp, which the russians would have given much to know, and one of these places was the british hotel. some such whispers were afloat on the evening of sunday the th of june, and excited me strangely. any stranger not in my secret would have considered that my conduct fully justified my partner, mr. day, in sending me home, as better fitted for a cell in bedlam than the charge of an hotel in the crimea. i never remember feeling more excited or more restless than upon that day, and no sooner had night fairly closed in upon us than, instead of making preparations for bed, this same stranger would have seen me wrap up--the nights were still cold--and start off for a long walk to cathcart's hill, three miles and a half away. i stayed there until past midnight, but when i returned home, there was no rest for me; for i had found out that, in the stillness of the night, many regiments were marching down to the trenches, and that the dawn of day would be the signal that should let them loose upon the russians. the few hours still left before daybreak, were made the most of at spring hill. we were all busily occupied in cutting bread and cheese and sandwiches, packing up fowls, tongues, and ham, wine and spirits, while i carefully filled the large bag, which i always carried into the field slung across my shoulder, with lint, bandages, needles, thread, and medicines; and soon after daybreak everything was ready packed upon two mules, in charge of my steadiest lad, and, i leading the way on horseback, the little cavalcade left the british hotel before the sun of the fatal th of june had been many hours old. it was not long before our progress was arrested by the cavalry pickets closely stationed to stop all stragglers and spectators from reaching the scene of action. but after a blight parley and when they found out who i was, and how i was prepared for the day's work, the men raised a shout for me, and, with their officer's sanction, allowed me to pass. so i reached cathcart's hill crowded with non-combatants, and, leaving there the mules, loaded myself with what provisions i could carry, and--it was a work of no little difficulty and danger--succeeded in reaching the reserves of sir henry barnard's division, which was to have stormed something, i forget what; but when they found the attack upon the redan was a failure, very wisely abstained. here i found plenty of officers who soon relieved me of my refreshments, and some wounded men who found the contents of my bag very useful. at length i made my way to the woronzoff road, where the temporary hospital had been erected, and there i found the doctors hard enough at work, and hastened to help them as best i could. i bound up the wounds and ministered to the wants of a good many, and stayed there some considerable time. upon the way, and even here, i was "under fire." more frequently than was agreeable, a shot would come ploughing up the ground and raising clouds of dust, or a shell whizz above us. upon these occasions those around would cry out, "lie down, mother, lie down!" and with very undignified and unladylike haste i had to embrace the earth, and remain there until the same voices would laughingly assure me that the danger was over, or one, more thoughtful than the rest, would come to give me a helping hand, and hope that the old lady was neither hit nor frightened. several times in my wanderings on that eventful day, of which i confess to have a most confused remembrance, only knowing that i looked after many wounded men, i was ordered back, but each time my bag of bandages and comforts for the wounded proved my passport. while at the hospital i was chiefly of use looking after those, who, either from lack of hands or because their hurts were less serious, had to wait, pained and weary, until the kind-hearted doctors--who, however, _looked_ more like murderers--could attend to them. and the grateful words and smile which rewarded me for binding up a wound or giving cooling drink was a pleasure worth risking life for at any time. it was here that i received my only wound during the campaign. i threw myself too hastily on the ground, in obedience to the command of those around me, to escape a threatening shell, and fell heavily on the thumb of my right hand, dislocating it. it was bound up on the spot and did not inconvenience me much, but it has never returned to its proper shape. after this, first washing my hands in some sherry from lack of water, i went back to cathcart's hill, where i found my horse, and heard that the good-for-nothing lad, either frightened or tired of waiting, had gone away with the mules. i had to ride three miles after him, and then the only satisfaction i had arose from laying my horse-whip about his shoulders. after that, working my way round, how i can scarcely tell, i got to the extreme left attack, where general eyre's division had been hotly engaged all day, and had suffered severely. i left my horse in charge of some men, and with no little difficulty, and at no little risk, crept down to where some wounded men lay, with whom i left refreshments. and then--it was growing late--i started for spring hill, where i heard all about the events of the luckless day from those who had seen them from posts of safety, while i, who had been in the midst of it all day, knew so little. on the following day some irishmen of the th royals brought me, in token of my having been among them, a russian woman's dress and a poor pigeon, which they had brought away from one of the houses in the suburb where their regiment suffered so severely. but that evening of the th of june was a sad one, and the news that came in of those that had fallen were most heartrending. both the leaders, who fell so gloriously before the redan, had been very good to the mistress of spring hill. but a few days before the th, col. y---- had merrily declared that i should have a silver salver to hand about things upon, instead of the poor shabby one i had been reduced to; while sir john c---- had been my kind patron for some years. it was in my house in jamaica that lady c---- had once lodged when her husband was stationed in that island. and when the recall home came, lady c----, who, had she been like most women, would have shrunk from any exertion, declared that she was a soldier's wife and would accompany him. fortunately the "blenheim" was detained in the roads a few days after the time expected for her departure, and i put into its father's arms a little scotchman, born within sight of the blue hills of jamaica. and yet with these at home, the brave general--as i read in the _times_ a few weeks later--displayed a courage amounting to rashness, and, sending away his aides-de-camp, rushed on to a certain death. on the following day, directly i heard of the armistice, i hastened to the scene of action, anxious to see once more the faces of those who had been so kind to me in life. that battle-field was a fearful sight for a woman to witness, and if i do not pray god that i may never see its like again, it is because i wish to be useful all my life, and it is in scenes of horror and distress that a woman can do so much. it was late in the afternoon, not, i think, until half-past four, that the russians brought over the bodies of the two leaders of yesterday's assault. they had stripped sir john of epaulettes, sword, and boots. ah! how my heart felt for those at home who would so soon hear of this day's fatal work. it was on the following day, i think, that i saw them bury him near cathcart's hill, where his tent had been pitched. if i had been in the least humour for what was ludicrous, the looks and curiosity of the russians who saw me during the armistice would have afforded me considerable amusement. i wonder what rank they assigned me. how true it is, as somebody has said, that misfortunes never come singly. n.b. pleasures often do. for while we were dull enough at this great trouble, we had cholera raging around us, carrying off its victims of all ranks. there was great distress in the sardinian camp on this account, and i soon lost another good customer, general e----, carried off by the same terrible plague. before mrs. e---- left the crimea, she sent several useful things, kept back from the sale of the general's effects. at this sale i wanted to buy a useful waggon, but did not like to bid against lord w----, who purchased it; but (i tell this anecdote to show how kind they all were to me) when his lordship heard of this he sent it over to spring hill, with a message that it was mine for a far lower price than he had given for it. and since my return home i have had to thank the same nobleman for still greater favours. but who, indeed, has not been kind to me? within a week after general e----'s death, a still greater calamity happened. lord raglan died--that great soldier who had such iron courage, with the gentle smile and kind word that always show the good man. i was familiar enough with his person; for, although people did not know it in england, he was continually in the saddle looking after his suffering men, and scheming plans for their benefit. and the humblest soldier will remember that, let who might look stern and distant, the first man in the british army ever had a kind word to give him. during the time he was ill i was at head-quarters several times, and once his servants allowed me to peep into the room where their master lay. i do not think they knew that he was dying, but they seemed very sad and low--far more so than he for whom they feared. and on the day of his funeral i was there again. i never saw such heartfelt gloom as that which brooded on the faces of his attendants; but it was good to hear how they all, even the humblest, had some kind memory of the great general whom providence had called from his post at such a season of danger and distress. and once again they let me into the room in which the coffin lay, and i timidly stretched out my hand and touched a corner of the union-jack which lay upon it; and then i watched it wind its way through the long lines of soldiery towards kamiesch, while, ever and anon, the guns thundered forth in sorrow, not in anger. and for days after i could not help thinking of the "caradoc," which was ploughing its way through the sunny sea with its sad burden. it was not in the nature of the british army to remain long dull, and before very long we went on gaily as ever, forgetting the terrible th of june, or only remembering it to look forward to the next assault compensating for all. and once more the british hotel was filled with a busy throng, and laughter and fun re-echoed through its iron rafters. nothing of consequence was done in the front for weeks, possibly because mr. russell was taking holiday, and would not return until august. about this time the stores of the british hotel were well filled, not only with every conceivable necessary of life, but with many of its most expensive luxuries. it was at this period that you could have asked for few things that i could not have supplied you with on the spot, or obtained for you, if you had a little patience and did not mind a few weeks' delay. not only spring hill and kadikoi, which--a poor place enough when we came--had grown into a town of stores, and had its market regulations and police, but the whole camp shared in this unusual plenty. even the men could afford to despise salt meat and pork, and fed as well, if not better, than if they had been in quarters at home. and there were coffee-houses and places of amusement opened at balaclava, and balls given in some of them, which raised my temper to an unwonted pitch, because i foresaw the dangers which they had for the young and impulsive; and sure enough they cost several officers their commissions. right glad was i one day when the great purifier, fire, burnt down the worst of these places and ruined its owner, a bad frenchwoman. and the railway was in full work, and the great road nearly finished, and the old one passable, and the mules and horses looked in such fair condition, that you would scarcely have believed farrier c----, of the land transport corps, who would have told you then, and will tell you now, that he superintended, on one bleak morning of february, not six months agone, the task of throwing the corpses of one hundred and eight mules over the cliffs at karanyi into the black sea beneath. of course the summer introduced its own plagues, and among the worst of these were the flies. i shall never forget those crimean flies, and most sincerely hope that, like the patagonians, they are only to be found in one part of the world. nature must surely have intended them for blackbeetles, and accidentally given them wings. there was no exterminating them--no thinning them--no escaping from them by night or by day. one of my boys confined himself almost entirely to laying baits and traps for their destruction, and used to boast that he destroyed them at the rate of a gallon a day; but i never noticed any perceptible decrease in their powers of mischief and annoyance. the officers in the front suffered terribly from them. one of my kindest customers, a lieutenant serving in the royal naval brigade, who was a close relative of the queen, whose uniform he wore, came to me in great perplexity. he evidently considered the fly nuisance the most trying portion of the campaign, and of far more consequence than the russian shot and shell. "mami," he said (he had been in the west indies, and so called me by the familiar term used by the creole children), "mami, these flies respect nothing. not content with eating my prog, they set to at night and make a supper of me," and his face showed traces of their attacks. "confound them, they'll kill me, mami; they're everywhere, even in the trenches, and you'd suppose they wouldn't care to go there from choice. what can you do for me, mami?" not much; but i rode down to mr. b----'s store, at kadikoi, where i was lucky in being able to procure a piece of muslin, which i pinned up (time was too precious to allow me to use needle and thread) into a mosquito net, with which the prince was delighted. he fell ill later in the summer, when i went up to his quarters and did all i could for him. as the summer wore on, busily passed by all of us at the british hotel, rumours stronger than ever were heard of a great battle soon to be fought by the reinforcements which were known to have joined the russian army. and i think that no one was much surprised when one pleasant august morning, at early dawn, heavy firing was heard towards the french position on the right, by the tchernaya, and the stream of troops and on-lookers poured from all quarters in that direction. prepared and loaded as usual, i was soon riding in the same direction, and saw the chief part of the morning's battle. i saw the russians cross and recross the river. i saw their officers cheer and wave them on in the coolest, bravest manner, until they were shot down by scores. i was near enough to hear at times, in the lull of artillery, and above the rattle of the musketry, the excited cheers which told of a daring attack or a successful repulse; and beneath where i stood i could see--what the russians could not--steadily drawn up, quiet and expectant, the squadrons of english and french cavalry, calmly yet impatiently waiting until the russians' partial success should bring their sabres into play. but the contingency never happened; and we saw the russians fall slowly back in good order, while the dark-plumed sardinians and red-pantalooned french spread out in pursuit, and formed a picture so excitingly beautiful that we forgot the suffering and death they left behind. and then i descended with the rest into the field of battle. it was a fearful scene; but why repeat this remark. all death is trying to witness--even that of the good man who lays down his life hopefully and peacefully; but on the battle-field, when the poor body is torn and rent in hideous ways, and the scared spirit struggles to loose itself from the still strong frame that holds it tightly to the last, death is fearful indeed. it had come peacefully enough to some. they lay with half-opened eyes, and a quiet smile about the lips that showed their end to have been painless; others it had arrested in the heat of passion, and frozen on their pallid faces a glare of hatred and defiance that made your warm blood run cold. but little time had we to think of the dead, whose business it was to see after the dying, who might yet be saved. the ground was thickly cumbered with the wounded, some of them calm and resigned, others impatient and restless, a few filling the air with their cries of pain--all wanting water, and grateful to those who administered it, and more substantial comforts. you might see officers and strangers, visitors to the camp, riding about the field on this errand of mercy. and this, although--surely it could not have been intentional--russian guns still played upon the scene of action. there were many others there, bent on a more selfish task. the plunderers were busy everywhere. it was marvellous to see how eagerly the french stripped the dead of what was valuable, not always, in their brutal work, paying much regard to the presence of a lady. some of the officers, when i complained rather angrily, laughed, and said it was spoiling the egyptians; but i _do_ think the israelites spared their enemies those garments, which, perhaps, were not so unmentionable in those days as they have since become. i attended to the wounds of many french and sardinians, and helped to lift them into the ambulances, which came tearing up to the scene of action. i derived no little gratification from being able to dress the wounds of several russians; indeed, they were as kindly treated as the others. one of them was badly shot in the lower jaw, and was beyond my or any human skill. incautiously i inserted my finger into his mouth to feel where the ball had lodged, and his teeth closed upon it, in the agonies of death, so tightly that i had to call to those around to release it, which was not done until it had been bitten so deeply that i shall carry the scar with me to my grave. poor fellow, he meant me no harm, for, as the near approach of death softened his features, a smile spread over his rough inexpressive face, and so he died. i attended another russian, a handsome fellow, and an officer, shot in the side, who bore his cruel suffering with a firmness that was very noble. in return for the little use i was to him, he took a ring off his finger and gave it to me, and after i had helped to lift him into the ambulance he kissed my hand and smiled far more thanks than i had earned. i do not know whether he survived his wounds, but i fear not. many others, on that day, gave me thanks in words the meaning of which was lost upon me, and all of them in that one common language of the whole world--smiles. i carried two patients off the field; one a french officer wounded on the hip, who chose to go back to spring hill and be attended by me there, and who, on leaving, told us that he was a relative of the marshal (pelissier); the other, a poor cossack colt i found running round its dam, which lay beside its cossack master dead, with its tongue hanging from its mouth. the colt was already wounded in the ears and fore-foot, and i was only just in time to prevent a french corporal who, perhaps for pity's sake, was preparing to give it it's _coup de grace_. i saved the poor thing by promising to give the frenchman ten shillings if he would bring it down to the british hotel, which he did that same evening. i attended to its hurts, and succeeded in rearing it, and it became a great pet at spring hill, and accompanied me to england. i picked up some trophies from the battle-field, but not many, and those of little value. i cannot bear the idea of plundering either the living or the dead; but i picked up a russian metal cross, and took from the bodies of some of the poor fellows nothing of more value than a few buttons, which i severed from their coarse grey coats. so end my reminiscences of the battle of the tchernaya, fought, as all the world knows, on the th of august, . chapter xvii. inside sebastopol--the last bombardment of sebastopol--on cathcart's hill--rumours in the camp--the attack on the malakhoff--the old work again--a sunday excursion--inside "our" city--i am taken for a spy, and thereat lose my temper--i visit the redan, etc.--my share of the "plunder." the three weeks following the battle of the tchernaya were, i should think, some of the busiest and most eventful the world has ever seen. there was little doing at spring hill. every one was either at his post, or too anxiously awaiting the issue of the last great bombardment to spend much time at the british hotel. i think that i lost more of my patients and customers during those few weeks than during the whole previous progress of the siege. scarce a night passed that i was not lulled to sleep with the heavy continuous roar of the artillery; scarce a morning dawned that the same sound did not usher in my day's work. the ear grew so accustomed during those weeks to the terrible roar, that when sebastopol fell the sudden quiet seemed unnatural, and made us dull. and during the whole of this time the most perplexing rumours flew about, some having reference to the day of assault, the majority relative to the last great effort which it was supposed the russians would make to drive us into the sea. i confess these latter rumours now and then caused me temporary uneasiness, spring hill being on the direct line of route which the actors in such a tragedy must take. i spent much of my time on cathcart's hill, watching, with a curiosity and excitement which became intense, the progress of the terrible bombardment. now and then a shell would fall among the crowd of on-lookers which covered the hill; but it never disturbed us, so keen and feverish and so deadened to danger had the excitement and expectation made us. in the midst of the bombardment took place the important ceremony of distributing the order of the bath to those selected for that honour. i contrived to witness this ceremony very pleasantly; and although it cost me a day, i considered that i had fairly earned the pleasure. i was anxious to have some personal share in the affair, so i made, and forwarded to head-quarters, a cake which gunter might have been at some loss to manufacture with the materials at my command, and which i adorned gaily with banners, flags, etc. i received great kindness from the officials at the ceremony, and from the officers--some of rank--who recognised me; indeed, i held quite a little _levée_ around my chair. well, a few days after this ceremony, i thought the end of the world, instead of the war, was at hand, when every battery opened and poured a perfect hail of shot and shell upon the beautiful city which i had left the night before sleeping so calm and peaceful beneath the stars. the firing began at early dawn, and was fearful. sleep was impossible; so i arose, and set out for my old station on cathcart's hill. and here, with refreshments for the anxious lookers-on, i spent most of my time, right glad of any excuse to witness the last scene of the siege. it was from this spot that i saw fire after fire break out in sebastopol, and watched all night the beautiful yet terrible effect of a great ship blazing in the harbour, and lighting up the adjoining country for miles. the weather changed, as it often did in the crimea, most capriciously; and the morning of the memorable th of september broke cold and wintry. the same little bird which had let me into so many secrets, also gave me a hint of what this day was pregnant with; and very early in the morning i was on horseback, with my bandages and refreshments, ready to repeat the work of the th of june last. a line of sentries forbade all strangers passing through without orders, even to cathcart's hill; but once more i found that my reputation served as a permit, and the officers relaxed the rule in my favour everywhere. so, early in the day, i was in my old spot, with my old appliances for the wounded and fatigued; little expecting, however, that this day would so closely resemble the day of the last attack in its disastrous results. it was noon before the cannonading suddenly ceased; and we saw, with a strange feeling of excitement, the french tumble out of their advanced trenches, and roll into the malakhoff like a human flood. onward they seemed to go into the dust and smoke, swallowed up by hundreds; but they never returned, and before long we saw workmen levelling parapets and filling up ditches, over which they drove, with headlong speed and impetuosity, artillery and ammunition-waggons, until there could be no doubt that the malakhoff was taken, although the tide of battle still surged around it with violence, and wounded men were borne from it in large numbers. and before this, our men had made their attack, and the fearful assault of the redan was going on, and failing. but i was soon too busy to see much, for the wounded were borne in even in greater numbers than at the last assault; whilst stragglers, slightly hurt, limped in, in fast-increasing numbers, and engrossed our attention. i now and then found time to ask them rapid questions; but they did not appear to know anything more than that everything had gone wrong. the sailors, as before, showed their gallantry, and even recklessness, conspicuously. the wounded of the ladder and sandbag parties came up even with a laugh, and joked about their hurts in the happiest conceivable manner. i saw many officers of the th wounded; and, as far as possible, i reserved my attentions for my old regiment, known so well in my native island. my poor th! their loss was terrible. i dressed the wound of one of its officers, seriously hit in the mouth; i attended to another wounded in the throat, and bandaged the hand of a third, terribly crushed by a rifle-bullet. in the midst of this we were often interrupted by those unwelcome and impartial russian visitors--the shells. one fell so near that i thought my last hour was come; and, although i had sufficient firmness to throw myself upon the ground, i was so seriously frightened that i never thought of rising from my recumbent position until the hearty laugh of those around convinced me that the danger had passed by. afterwards i picked up a piece of this huge shell, and brought it home with me. it was on this, as on every similar occasion, that i saw the _times_ correspondent eagerly taking down notes and sketches of the scene, under fire--listening apparently with attention to all the busy little crowd that surrounded him, but without laying down his pencil; and yet finding time, even in his busiest moment, to lend a helping hand to the wounded. it may have been on this occasion that his keen eye noticed me, and his mind, albeit engrossed with far more important memories, found room to remember me. i may well be proud of his testimony, borne so generously only the other day, and may well be excused for transcribing it from the columns of the _times_:--"i have seen her go down, under fire, with her little store of creature comforts for our wounded men; and a more tender or skilful hand about a wound or broken limb could not be found among our best surgeons. i saw her at the assault on the redan, at the tchernaya, at the fall of sebastopol, laden, not with plunder, good old soul! but with wine, bandages, and food for the wounded or the prisoners." i remained on cathcart's hill far into the night, and watched the city blazing beneath us, awe-struck at the terrible sight, until the bitter wind found its way through my thin clothing, and chilled me to the bone; and not till then did i leave for spring hill. i had little sleep that night. the night was made a ruddy lurid day with the glare of the blazing town; while every now and then came reports which shook the earth to its centre. and yet i believe very many of the soldiers, wearied with their day's labour, slept soundly throughout that terrible night, and awoke to find their work completed: for in the night, covered by the burning city, sebastopol was left, a heap of ruins, to its victors; and before noon on the following day, none but dead and dying russians were in the south side of the once famous and beautiful mistress-city of the euxine. the good news soon spread through the camp. it gave great pleasure; but i almost think the soldiers would have been better pleased had the russians delayed their parting twelve hours longer, and given the highlanders and their comrades a chance of retrieving the disasters of the previous day. nothing else could wipe away the soreness of defeat, or compensate for the better fortune which had befallen our allies the french. the news of the evacuation of sebastopol soon carried away all traces of yesterday's fatigue. for weeks past i had been offering bets to every one that i would not only be the first woman to enter sebastopol from the english lines, but that i would be the first to carry refreshments into the fallen city. and now the time i had longed for had come. i borrowed some mules from the land transport corps--mine were knocked up by yesterday's work--and loading them with good things, started off with my partner and some other friends early on that memorable sunday morning for cathcart's hill. when i found that strict orders had been given to admit no one inside sebastopol, i became quite excited; and making my way to general garrett's quarters, i made such an earnest representation of what i considered my right that i soon obtained a pass, of which the following is a copy:-- "pass mrs. seacole and her attendants, with refreshments for officers and soldiers in the redan and in sebastopol. "garrett, m.g. "cathcart's hill, sept. , ." so many attached themselves to my staff, becoming for the nonce my attendants, that i had some difficulty at starting; but at last i passed all the sentries safely, much to the annoyance of many officers, who were trying every conceivable scheme to evade them, and entered the city. i can give you no very clear description of its condition on that sunday morning, a year and a half ago. many parts of it were still blazing furiously--explosions were taking place in all directions--every step had a score of dangers; and yet curiosity and excitement carried us on and on. i was often stopped to give refreshments to officers and men, who had been fasting for hours. some, on the other hand, had found their way to russian cellars; and one body of men were most ingloriously drunk, and playing the wildest pranks. they were dancing, yelling, and singing--some of them with russian women's dresses fastened round their waists, and old bonnets stuck upon their heads. i was offered many trophies. all plunder was stopped by the sentries, and confiscated, so that the soldiers could afford to be liberal. by one i was offered a great velvet sofa; another pressed a huge arm-chair, which had graced some sebastopol study, upon me; while a third begged my acceptance of a portion of a grand piano. what i did carry away was very unimportant: a gaily-decorated altar-candle, studded with gold and silver stars, which the present commander-in-chief condescended to accept as a sebastopol memorial; an old cracked china teapot, which in happier times had very likely dispensed pleasure to many a small tea-party; a cracked bell, which had rung many to prayers during the siege, and which i bore away on my saddle; and a parasol, given me by a drunken soldier. he had a silk skirt on, and torn lace upon his wrists, and he came mincingly up, holding the parasol above his head, and imitating the walk of an affected lady, to the vociferous delight of his comrades. and all this, and much more, in that fearful charnel city, with death and suffering on every side. it was very hazardous to pass along some of the streets exposed to the fire of the russians on the north side of the harbour. we had to wait and watch our opportunity, and then gallop for it. some of us had close shaves of being hit. more than this, fires still kept breaking out around; while mines and fougasses not unfrequently exploded from unknown causes. we saw two officers emerge from a heap of ruins, covered and almost blinded with smoke and dust, from some such unlooked-for explosion. with considerable difficulty we succeeded in getting into the quarter of the town held by the french, where i was nearly getting into serious trouble. i had loitered somewhat behind my party, watching, with pardonable curiosity, the adroitness with which a party of french were plundering a house; and by the time my curiosity had been satisfied, i found myself quite alone, my retinue having preceded me by some few hundred yards. this would have been of little consequence, had not an american sailor lad, actuated either by mischief or folly, whispered to the frenchmen that i was a russian spy; and had they not, instead of laughing at him, credited his assertion, and proceeded to arrest me. now, such a charge was enough to make a lion of a lamb; so i refused positively to dismount, and made matters worse by knocking in the cap of the first soldier who laid hands upon me, with the bell that hung at my saddle. upon this, six or seven tried to force me to the guard-house in rather a rough manner, while i resisted with all my force, screaming out for mr. day, and using the bell for a weapon. how i longed for a better one i need not tell the reader. in the midst of this scene came up a french officer, whom i recognised as the patient i had taken to spring hill after the battle of the tchernaya, and who took my part at once, and ordered them to release me. although i rather weakened my cause, it was most natural that, directly i was released, i should fly at the varlet who had caused me this trouble; and i did so, using my bell most effectually, and aided, when my party returned, by their riding-whips. this little adventure took up altogether so much time that, when the french soldiers had made their apologies to me, and i had returned the compliment to the one whose head had been dented by my bell, it was growing late, and we made our way back to cathcart's hill. on the way, a little french soldier begged hard of me to buy a picture, which had been cut from above the altar of some church in sebastopol. it was too dark to see much of his prize, but i ultimately became its possessor, and brought it home with me. it is some eight or ten feet in length, and represents, i should think, the madonna. i am no judge of such things, but i think, although the painting is rather coarse, that the face of the virgin, and the heads of cherubim that fill the cloud from which she is descending, are soft and beautiful. there is a look of divine calmness and heavenly love in the madonna's face which is very striking; and, perhaps, during the long and awful siege many a knee was bent in worship before it, and many a heart found comfort in its soft loving gaze. on the following day i again entered sebastopol, and saw still more of its horrors. but i have refrained from describing so many scenes of woe, that i am loth to dwell much on these. the very recollection of that woeful hospital, where thousands of dead and dying had been left by the retreating russians, is enough to unnerve the strongest and sicken the most experienced. i would give much if i had never seen that harrowing sight. i believe some englishmen were found in it alive; but it was as well that they did not live to tell their fearful experience. i made my way into the redan also, although every step was dangerous, and took from it some brown bread, which seemed to have been left in the oven by the baker when he fled. before many days were passed, some frenchwomen opened houses in sebastopol; but in that quarter of the town held by the english the prospect was not sufficiently tempting for me to follow their example, and so i saw out the remainder of the campaign from my old quarters at spring hill. chapter xviii. holiday in the camp--a new enemy, time--amusements in the crimea--my share in them--dinner at spring hill--at the races--christmas day in the british hotel--new year's day in the hospital. well, the great work was accomplished--sebastopol was taken. the russians had retired sullenly to their stronghold on the north side of the harbour, from which, every now and then, they sent a few vain shot and shell, which sent the amateurs in the streets of sebastopol scampering, but gave the experienced no concern. in a few days the camp could find plenty to talk about in their novel position--and what then? what was to be done? more fighting? another equally terrible and lengthy siege of the north? that was the business of a few at head-quarters and in council at home, between whom the electric wires flashed many a message. in the meanwhile, the real workers applied themselves to plan amusements, and the same energy and activity which had made sebastopol a heap of ruins and a well-filled cemetery--which had dug the miles of trenches, and held them when made against a desperate foe--which had manned the many guns, and worked them so well, set to work as eager to kill their present enemy, time, as they had lately been to destroy their fled enemies, the russians. all who were before sebastopol will long remember the beautiful autumn which succeeded to so eventful a summer, and ushered in so pleasantly the second winter of the campaign. it was appreciated as only those who earn the right to enjoyment can enjoy relaxation. the camp was full of visitors of every rank. they thronged the streets of sebastopol, sketching its ruins and setting up photographic apparatus, in contemptuous indifference of the shot with which the russians generally favoured every conspicuous group. pleasure was hunted keenly. cricket matches, pic-nics, dinner parties, races, theatricals, all found their admirers. my restaurant was always full, and once more merry laughter was heard, and many a dinner party was held, beneath the iron roof of the british hotel. several were given in compliment to our allies, and many distinguished frenchmen have tested my powers of cooking. you might have seen at one party some of their most famous officers. at once were present a prince of the imperial family of france, the duc de rouchefoucault, and a certain corporal in the french service, who was perhaps the best known man in the whole army, the viscount talon. they expressed themselves highly gratified at the _carte_, and perhaps were not a little surprised as course after course made its appearance, and to soup and fish succeeded turkeys, saddle of mutton, fowls, ham, tongue, curry, pastry of many sorts, custards, jelly, blanc-mange, and olives. i took a peculiar pride in doing my best when they were present, for i knew a little of the secrets of the french commissariat. i wonder if the world will ever know more. i wonder if the system of secresy which has so long kept veiled the sufferings of the french army before sebastopol will ever yield to truth. i used to guess something of those sufferings when i saw, even after the fall of sebastopol, half-starved french soldiers prowling about my store, taking eagerly even what the turks rejected as unfit for human food; and no one could accuse _them_ of squeamishness. i cannot but believe that in some desks or bureaux lie notes or diaries which shall one day be given to the world; and when this happens, the terrible distresses of the english army will pall before the unheard-of sufferings of the french. it is true that they carried from sebastopol the lion's share of glory. my belief is that they deserved it, having borne by far a larger proportion of suffering. there were few dinners at spring hill at which the guests did not show their appreciation of their hostess's labour by drinking her health; and at the dinner i have above alluded to, the toast was responded to with such enthusiasm that i felt compelled to put my acknowledgments into the form of a little speech, which talon interpreted to his countrymen. the french prince was, after this occasion, several times at the british hotel. he was there once when some americans were received by me with scarcely that cordiality which i have been told distinguished my reception of guests; and upon their leaving i told him--quite forgetting his own connection with america--of my prejudice against the yankees. he heard me for a little while, and then he interrupted me. "tenez! madame seacole, i too am american a little." what a pity i was not born a countess! i am sure i should have made a capital courtier. witness my impromptu answer:-- "i should never have guessed it, prince."--and he seemed amused. with the theatricals directly i had nothing to do. had i been a little younger the companies would very likely have been glad of me, for no one liked to sacrifice their beards to become miss julia or plain mary ann; and even the beardless subalterns had voices which no coaxing could soften down. but i lent them plenty of dresses; indeed, it was the only airing which a great many gay-coloured muslins had in the crimea. how was i to know when i brought them what camp-life was? and in addition to this, i found it necessary to convert my kitchen into a temporary green-room, where, to the wonderment, and perhaps scandal, of the black cook, the ladies of the company of the st royals were taught to manage their petticoats with becoming grace, and neither to show their awkward booted ankles, nor trip themselves up over their trains. it was a difficult task in many respects. although i laced them in until they grew blue in the face, their waists were a disgrace to the sex; while--crinoline being unknown then--my struggles to give them becoming _embonpoint_ may be imagined. it was not until a year later that _punch_ thought of using a clothes-basket; and i would have given much for such a hint when i was dresser to the theatrical company of the st royals. the hair was another difficulty. to be sure, there was plenty in the camp, only it was in the wrong place, and many an application was made to me for a set of curls. however, i am happy to say i am not become a customer of the wigmakers yet. my recollections of hunting in the crimea are confined to seeing troops of horsemen sweep by with shouts and yells after some wretched dog. once i was very nearly frightened out of my wits--my first impression being that the russians had carried into effect their old threat of driving us into the sea--by the startling appearance of a large body of horsemen tearing down the hill after, apparently, nothing. however i discovered in good time that, in default of vermin, they were chasing a brother officer with a paper bag. my experience of crimean races are perfect, for i was present, in the character of cantiniere, at all the more important meetings. some of them took place before christmas, and some after; but i shall exhaust the subject at once. i had no little difficulty to get the things on to the course; and in particular, after i had sat up the whole night making preparations for the december races, at the monastery of st. george, i could not get my poor mules over the rough country, and found myself, in the middle of the day, some miles from the course. at last i gave it up as hopeless, and, dismounting, sat down by the roadside to consider how i could possibly dispose of the piles of sandwiches, bread, cheese, pies, and tarts, which had been prepared for the hungry spectators. at last, some officers, who expected me long before, came to look after me, and by their aid we reached the course. i was better off at the next meeting, for a kind-hearted major of artillery provided me with a small bell-tent that was very useful, and enabled me to keep my stores out of reach of the light-fingered gentry, who were as busy in the crimea as at epsom or hampton court. over this tent waved the flag of the british hotel, but, during the day, it was struck, for an accident happening to one captain d----, he was brought to my tent insensible, where i quickly improvised a couch of some straw, covered with the union jack, and brought him round. i mention this trifle to show how ready of contrivance a little campaigning causes one to become. i had several patients in consequence of accidents at the races. nor was i altogether free from accidents myself. on the occasion of the races by the tchernaya, after the armistice, my cart, on turning a sudden bend in the steep track, upset, and the crates, containing plates and dishes, rolled over and over until their contents were completely broken up; so that i was reduced to hand about sandwiches, etc., on broken pieces of earthenware and scraps of paper. i saved some glasses, but not many, and some of the officers were obliged to drink out of stiff paper twisted into funnel-shaped glasses. it was astonishing how well the managers of these crimean races had contrived to imitate the old familiar scenes at home. you might well wonder where the racing saddles and boots, and silk caps and jackets had come from; but our connection with england was very different to what it had been when i first came to the crimea, and many a wife and sister's fingers had been busy making the racing gear for the crimea meetings. and in order that the course should still more closely resemble ascot or epsom, some soldiers blackened their faces and came out as ethiopian serenaders admirably, although it would puzzle the most ingenious to guess where they got their wigs and banjoes from. i caught one of them behind my tent in the act of knocking off the neck of a bottle of champagne, and, paralysed by the wine's hasty exit, the only excuse he offered was, that he wanted to know if the officers' luxury was better than rum. a few weeks before christmas, happened that fearful explosion, in the french ammunition park, which destroyed so many lives. we had experienced nothing at all like it before. the earth beneath us, even at the distance of three miles, reeled and trembled with the shock; and so great was the force of the explosion, that a piece of stone was hurled with some violence against the door of the british hotel. we all felt for the french very much, although i do not think that the armies agreed quite so well after the taking of the malakhoff, and the unsuccessful assault upon the redan, as they had done previously. i saw several instances of unpleasantness and collision, arising from allusions to sore points. one, in particular, occurred in my store. the french, when they wanted--it was very seldom--to wound the pride of the english soldiery, used to say significantly, in that jargon by which the various nations in the crimea endeavoured to obviate the consequences of what occurred at the tower of babel, some time ago, "malakhoff bono--redan no bono." and this, of course, usually led to recriminatory statements, and history was ransacked to find something consolatory to english pride. once i noticed a brawny man, of the army works corps, bringing a small french zouave to my canteen, evidently with the view of standing treat. the frenchman seemed mischievously inclined, and, probably relying upon the good humour on the countenance of his gigantic companion, began a little playful badinage, ending with the taunt of "redan, no bono--redan, no bono." i never saw any man look so helplessly angry as the englishman did. for a few minutes he seemed absolutely rooted to the ground. of course he could have crushed his mocking friend with ease, but how could he answer his taunt. all at once, however, a happy thought struck him, and rushing up to the zouave, he caught him round the waist and threw him down, roaring out, "waterloo was bono--waterloo was bono." it was as much as the people on the premises could do to part them, so convulsed were we all with laughter. and before christmas, occurred my first and last attack of illness in the crimea. it was not of much consequence, nor should i mention it but to show the kindness of my soldier-friends. i think it arose from the sudden commencement of winter, for which i was but poorly provided. however, i soon received much sympathy and many presents of warm clothing, etc.; but the most delicate piece of attention was shown me by one of the sappers and miners, who, hearing the report that i was dead, positively came down to spring hill to take my measure for a coffin. this may seem a questionable compliment, but i really felt flattered and touched with such a mark of thoughtful attention. very few in the crimea had the luxury of any better coffin than a blanket-shroud, and it was very good of the grateful fellow to determine that his old friend, the mistress of spring hill, should have an honour conceded to so very few of the illustrious dead before sebastopol. so christmas came, and with it pleasant memories of home and of home comforts. with it came also news of home--some not of the most pleasant description--and kind wishes from absent friends. "a merry christmas to you," writes one, "and many of them. although you will not write to us, we see your name frequently in the newspapers, from which we judge that you are strong and hearty. all your old jamaica friends are delighted to hear of you, and say that you are an honour to the isle of springs." i wonder if the people of other countries are as fond of carrying with them everywhere their home habits as the english. i think not. i think there was something purely and essentially english in the determination of the camp to spend the christmas-day of after the good old "home" fashion. it showed itself weeks before the eventful day. in the dinner parties which were got up--in the orders sent to england--in the supplies which came out, and in the many applications made to the hostess of the british hotel for plum-puddings and mince-pies. the demand for them, and the material necessary to manufacture them, was marvellous. i can fancy that if returns could be got at of the flour, plums, currants, and eggs consumed on christmas-day in the out-of-the-way crimean peninsula, they would astonish us. one determination appeared to have taken possession of every mind--to spend the festive day with the mirth and jollity which the changed prospect of affairs warranted; and the recollection of a year ago, when death and misery were the camp's chief guests, only served to heighten this resolve. for three weeks previous to christmas-day, my time was fully occupied in making preparations for it. pages of my books are filled with orders for plum-puddings and mince-pies, besides which i sold an immense quantity of raw material to those who were too far off to send down for the manufactured article on christmas-day, and to such purchasers i gave a plain recipe for their guidance. will the reader take any interest in my crimean christmas-pudding? it was plain, but decidedly good. however, you shall judge for yourself:--"one pound of flour, three-quarters of a pound of raisins, three-quarters of a pound of fat pork, chopped fine, two tablespoonfuls of sugar, a little cinnamon or chopped lemon, half-pint of milk or water; mix these well together, and boil four hours." from an early hour in the morning until long after the night had set in, were i and my cooks busy endeavouring to supply the great demand for christmas fare. we had considerable difficulty in keeping our engagements, but by substituting mince-pies for plum-puddings, in a few cases, we succeeded. the scene in the crowded store, and even in the little over-heated kitchen, with the officers' servants, who came in for their masters' dinners, cannot well be described. some were impatient themselves, others dreaded their masters' impatience as the appointed dinner hour passed by--all combined by entreaties, threats, cajolery, and fun to drive me distracted. angry cries for the major's plum-pudding, which was to have been ready an hour ago, alternated with an entreaty that i should cook the captain's mince-pies to a turn--"sure, he likes them well done, ma'am. bake 'em as brown as your own purty face, darlint." i did not get my dinner until eight o'clock, and then i dined in peace off a fine wild turkey or bustard, shot for me on the marshes by the tchernaya. it weighed twenty-two pounds, and, although somewhat coarse in colour, had a capital flavour. upon new year's-day i had another large cooking of plum-puddings and mince-pies; this time upon my own account. i took them to the hospital of the land transport corps, to remind the patients of the home comforts they longed so much for. it was a sad sight to see the once fine fellows, in their blue gowns, lying quiet and still, and reduced to such a level of weakness and helplessness. they all seemed glad for the little home tokens i took them. there was one patient who had been a most industrious and honest fellow, and who did not go into the hospital until long and wearing illness compelled him. i was particularly anxious to look after him, but i found him very weak and ill. i stayed with him until evening, and before i left him, kind fancy had brought to his bedside his wife and children from his village-home in england, and i could hear him talking to them in a low and joyful tone. poor, poor fellow! the new year so full of hope and happiness had dawned upon him, but he did not live to see the wild flowers spring up peacefully through the war-trodden sod before sebastopol. chapter xix. new year in the crimea--good news--the armistice--barter with the russians--war and peace--tidings of peace--excursions into the interior of the crimea--to simpheropol, baktchiserai, etc.--the troops begin to leave the crimea--friends' farewells--the cemeteries--we remove from spring hill to balaclava--alarming sacrifice of our stock--a last glimpse of sebastopol--home! before the new year was far advanced we all began to think of going home, making sure that peace would soon be concluded. and never did more welcome message come anywhere than that which brought us intelligence of the armistice, and the firing, which had grown more and more slack lately, ceased altogether. of course the army did not desire peace because they had any distaste for fighting; so far from it, i believe the only more welcome intelligence would have been news of a campaign in the field, but they were most heartily weary of sieges, and the prospect of another year before the gloomy north of sebastopol damped the ardour of the most sanguine. before the armistice was signed, the russians and their old foes made advances of friendship, and the banks of the tchernaya used to be thronged with strangers, and many strange acquaintances were thus began. i was one of the first to ride down to the tchernaya, and very much delighted seemed the russians to see an english woman. i wonder if they thought they all had my complexion. i soon entered heartily into the then current amusement--that of exchanging coin, etc., with the russians. i stole a march upon my companions by making the sign of the cross upon my bosom, upon which a russian threw me, in exchange for some pence, a little metal figure of some ugly saint. then we wrapped up halfpence in clay, and received coins of less value in exchange. seeing a soldier eating some white bread, i made signs of wanting some, and threw over a piece of money. i had great difficulty in making the man understand me, but after considerable pantomime, with surprise in his round bullet eyes, he wrapped up his bread in some paper, then coated it with clay and sent it over to me. i thought it would look well beside my brown bread taken from the strange oven in the terrible redan, and that the two would typify war and peace. there was a great traffic going on in such things, and a wag of an officer, who could talk russian imperfectly, set himself to work to persuade an innocent russian that i was his wife, and having succeeded in doing so promptly offered to dispose of me for the medal hanging at his breast. the last firing of any consequence was the salutes with which the good tidings of peace were received by army and navy. after this soon began the home-going with happy faces and light hearts, and some kind thoughts and warm tears for the comrades left behind. i was very glad to hear of peace, also, although it must have been apparent to every one that it would cause our ruin. we had lately made extensive additions to our store and out-houses--our shelves were filled with articles laid in at a great cost, and which were now unsaleable, and which it would be equally impossible to carry home. everything, from our stud of horses and mules down to our latest consignments from home, must be sold for any price; and, as it happened, for many things, worth a year ago their weight in gold, no purchaser could now be found. however, more of this hereafter. before leaving the crimea, i made various excursions into the interior, visiting simpheropol and baktchiserai. i travelled to simpheropol with a pretty large party, and had a very amusing journey. my companions were young and full of fun, and tried hard to persuade the russians that i was queen victoria, by paying me the most absurd reverence. when this failed they fell back a little, and declared that i was the queen's first cousin. anyhow, they attracted crowds about me, and i became quite a lioness in the streets of simpheropol, until the arrival of some highlanders in their uniform cut me out. my excursion to baktchiserai was still more amusing and pleasant. i found it necessary to go to beat up a russian merchant, who, after the declaration of peace, had purchased stores of us, and some young officers made up a party for the purpose. we hired an araba, filled it with straw, and some boxes to sit upon, and set out very early, with two old umbrellas to shield us from the mid-day sun and the night dews. we had with us a hamper carefully packed, before parting, with a cold duck, some cold meat, a tart, etc. the tartar's two horses were soon knocked up, and the fellow obtained a third at a little village, and so we rolled on until mid-day, when, thoroughly exhausted, we left our clumsy vehicle and carried our hamper beneath the shade of a beautiful cherry-tree, and determined to lunch. upon opening it the first thing that met our eyes was a fine rat, who made a speedy escape. somewhat gravely, we proceeded to unpack its contents, without caring to express our fears to one another, and quite soon enough we found them realized. how or where the rat had gained access to our hamper it was impossible to say, but he had made no bad use of his time, and both wings of the cold duck had flown, while the tart was considerably mangled. sad discovery this for people who, although, hungry, were still squeamish. we made out as well as we could with the cold beef, and gave the rest to our tartar driver, who had apparently no disinclination to eating after the rat, and would very likely have despised us heartily for such weakness. after dinner we went on more briskly, and succeeded in reaching baktchiserai. my journey was perfectly unavailing. i could not find my debtor at home, and if i had i was told it would take three weeks before the russian law would assist me to recover my claim. determined, however, to have some compensation, i carried off a raven, who had been croaking angrily at my intrusion. before we had been long on our homeward journey, however, lieut. c---- sat upon it, of course accidentally, and we threw it to its relatives--the crows. as the spring advanced, the troops began to move away at a brisk pace. as they passed the iron house upon the col--old for the crimea, where so much of life's action had been compressed into so short a space of time--they would stop and give us a parting cheer, while very often the band struck up some familiar tune of that home they were so gladly seeking. and very often the kind-hearted officers would find time to run into the british hotel to bid us good-bye, and give us a farewell shake of the hand; for you see war, like death, is a great leveller, and mutual suffering and endurance had made us all friends. "my dear mrs. seacole, and my dear mr. day," wrote one on a scrap of paper left on the counter, "i have called here four times this day, to wish you good-bye. i am so sorry i was not fortunate enough to see you. i shall still hope to see you to-morrow morning. we march at seven a.m." and yet all this going home seemed strange and somewhat sad, and sometimes i felt that i could not sympathise with the glad faces and happy hearts of those who were looking forward to the delights of home, and the joy of seeing once more the old familiar faces remembered so fondly in the fearful trenches and the hard-fought battle-fields. now and then we would see a lounger with a blank face, taking no interest in the bustle of departure, and with him i acknowledged to have more fellow-feeling than with the others, for he, as well as i, clearly had no home to go to. he was a soldier by choice and necessity, as well as by profession. he had no home, no loved friends; the peace would bring no particular pleasure to him, whereas war and action were necessary to his existence, gave him excitement, occupation, the chance of promotion. now and then, but seldom, however, you came across such a disappointed one. was it not so with me? had i not been happy through the months of toil and danger, never knowing what fear or depression was, finding every moment of the day mortgaged hours in advance, and earning sound sleep and contentment by sheer hard work? what better or happier lot could possibly befall me? and, alas! how likely was it that my present occupation gone, i might long in vain for another so stirring and so useful. besides which, it was pretty sure that i should go to england poorer than i left it, and although i was not ashamed of poverty, beginning life again in the autumn--i mean late in the summer of life--is hard up-hill work. peace concluded, the little jealousies which may have sprung up between the french and their allies seemed forgotten, and every one was anxious, ere the parting came, to make the most of the time yet left in improving old friendships and founding new. among others, the th, encamped near the woronzoff road, gave a grand parting entertainment to a large company of their french neighbours, at which many officers of high rank were present. i was applied to by the committee of management to superintend the affair, and, for the last time in the crimea, the health of madame seacole was proposed and duly honoured. i had grown so accustomed to the honour that i had no difficulty in returning thanks in a speech which colonel b---- interpreted amid roars of laughter to the french guests. as the various regiments moved off, i received many acknowledgments from those who thought they owed me gratitude. little presents, warm farewell words, kind letters full of grateful acknowledgments for services so small that i had forgotten them long, long ago--how easy it is to reach warm hearts!--little thoughtful acts of kindness, even from the humblest. and these touched me the most. i value the letters received from the working men far more than the testimonials of their officers. i had nothing to gain from the former, and can point to their testimony fearlessly. i am strongly tempted to insert some of these acknowledgments, but i will confine myself to one:-- "camp, near karani, june , . "my dear mrs. seacole,--as you are about to leave the crimea, i avail myself of the only opportunity which may occur for some time, to acknowledge my gratitude to you, and to thank you for the kindness which i, in common with many others, received at your hands, when attacked with cholera in the spring of . but i have no language to do it suitably. "i am truly sensible that your kindness far exceeded my claims upon your sympathy. it is said by some of your friends, i hope truly, that you are going to england. there can be none from the crimea more welcome there, for your kindness in the sick-tent, and your heroism in the battle-field, have endeared you to the whole army. "i am sure when her most gracious majesty the queen shall have become acquainted with the service you have gratuitously rendered to so many of her brave soldiers, her generous heart will thank you. for you have been an instrument in the hands of the almighty to preserve many a gallant heart to the empire, to fight and win her battles, if ever again war may become a necessity. please to accept this from your most grateful humble servant, "w. j. tynan." but i had other friends in the crimea--friends who could never thank me. some of them lay in their last sleep, beneath indistinguishable mounds of earth; some in the half-filled trenches, a few beneath the blue waters of the euxine. i might in vain attempt to gather the wild flowers which sprung up above many of their graves, but i knew where some lay, and could visit their last homes on earth. and to all the cemeteries where friends rested so calmly, sleeping well after a life's work nobly done, i went many times, lingering long over many a mound that bore the names of those whom i had been familiar with in life, thinking of what they had been, and what i had known of them. over some i planted shrubs and flowers, little lilac trees, obtained with no small trouble, and flowering evergreens, which looked quite gay and pretty ere i left, and may in time become great trees, and witness strange scenes, or be cut down as fuel for another besieging army--who can tell? and from many graves i picked up pebbles, and plucked simple wild-flowers, or tufts of grass, as memorials for relatives at home. how pretty the cemeteries used to look beneath the blue peaceful sky; neatly enclosed with stone walls, and full of the grave-stones reared by friends over friends. i met many here, thoughtfully taking their last look of the resting-places of those they knew and loved. i saw many a proud head bowed down above them. i knew that many a proud heart laid aside its pride here, and stood in the presence of death, humble and childlike. and by the clasped hand and moistened eye, i knew that from many a heart sped upward a grateful prayer to the providence which had thought fit in his judgment to take some, and in his mercy to spare the rest. some three weeks before the crimea was finally evacuated, we moved from our old quarters to balaclava, where we had obtained permission to fit up a store for the short time which would elapse before the last red coat left russian soil. the poor old british hotel! we could do nothing with it. the iron house was pulled down, and packed up for conveyance home, but the russians got all of the out-houses and sheds which was not used as fuel. all the kitchen fittings and stoves, that had cost us so much, fell also into their hands. i only wish some cook worthy to possess them has them now. we could sell nothing. our horses were almost given away, our large stores of provisions, etc., were at any one's service. it makes my heart sick to talk of the really alarming sacrifices we made. the russians crowded down ostensibly to purchase, in reality to plunder. prime cheeses, which had cost us tenpence a pound, were sold to them for less than a penny a pound; for wine, for which we had paid forty-eight shillings a dozen, they bid four shillings. i could not stand this, and in a fit of desperation, i snatched up a hammer and broke up case after case, while the bystanders held out their hands and caught the ruby stream. it may have been wrong, but i was too excited to think. there was no more of my own people to give it to, and i would rather not present it to our old foes. we were among the last to leave the crimea. before going i borrowed a horse, easy enough now, and rode up the old well-known road--how unfamiliar in its loneliness and quiet--to cathcart's hill. i wished once more to impress the scene upon my mind. it was a beautifully clear evening, and we could see miles away across the darkening sea. i spent some time there with my companions, pointing out to each other the sites of scenes we all remembered so well. there were the trenches, already becoming indistinguishable, out of which, on the th of september, we had seen the storming parties tumble in confused and scattered bodies, before they ran up the broken height of the redan. there the malakhoff, into which we had also seen the luckier french pour in one unbroken stream; below lay the crumbling city and the quiet harbour, with scarce a ripple on its surface, while around stretched away the deserted huts for miles. it was with something like regret that we said to one another that the play was fairly over, that peace had rung the curtain down, and that we, humble actors in some of its most stirring scenes, must seek engagements elsewhere. i lingered behind, and stooping down, once more gathered little tufts of grass, and some simple blossoms from above the graves of some who in life had been very kind to me, and i left behind, in exchange, a few tears which were sincere. a few days latter, and i stood on board a crowded steamer, taking my last look of the shores of the crimea. conclusion. i did not return to england by the most direct route, but took the opportunity of seeing more of men and manners in yet other lands. arrived in england at last, we set to work bravely at aldershott to retrieve our fallen fortunes, and stem off the ruin originated in the crimea, but all in vain; and at last defeated by fortune, but not i think disgraced, we were obliged to capitulate on very honourable conditions. in plain truth, the old crimean firm of seacole and day was dissolved finally, and its partners had to recommence the world anew. and so ended _our_ campaign. one of us started only the other day for the antipodes, while the other is ready to take any journey to any place where a stout heart and two experienced hands may be of use. perhaps it would be right if i were to express more shame and annoyance than i really feel at the pecuniarily disastrous issue of my crimean adventures, but i cannot--i really cannot. when i would try and feel ashamed of myself for being poor and helpless, i only experience a glow of pride at the other and more pleasing events of my career; when i think of the few whom i failed to pay in full (and so far from blaming me some of them are now my firmest friends), i cannot help remembering also the many who profess themselves indebted to me. let me, in as few words as possible, state the results of my crimean campaign. to be sure, i returned from it shaken in health. i came home wounded, as many others did. few constitutions, indeed, were the better for those winters before sebastopol, and i was too hard worked not to feel their effects; for a little labour fatigues me now--i cannot watch by sick-beds as i could--a week's want of rest quite knocks me up now. then i returned bankrupt in fortune. whereas others in my position may have come back to england rich and prosperous, i found myself poor--beggared. so few words can tell what i have lost. but what have i gained? i should need a volume to describe that fairly; so much is it, and so cheaply purchased by suffering ten times worse than what i have experienced. i have more than once heard people say that they would gladly suffer illness to enjoy the delights of convalescence, and so, by enduring a few days' pain, gain the tender love of relatives and sympathy of friends. and on this principle i rejoice in the trials which have borne me such pleasures as those i now enjoy, for wherever i go i am sure to meet some smiling face; every step i take in the crowded london streets may bring me in contact with some friend, forgotten by me, perhaps, but who soon reminds me of our old life before sebastopol; it seems very long ago now, when i was of use to him and he to me. where, indeed, do i not find friends. in omnibuses, in river steamboats, in places of public amusement, in quiet streets and courts, where taking short cuts i lose my way oft-times, spring up old familiar faces to remind me of the months spent on spring hill. the sentries at whitehall relax from the discharge of their important duty of guarding nothing to give me a smile of recognition; the very newspaper offices look friendly as i pass them by; busy printing-house yard puts on a cheering smile, and the _punch_ office in fleet street sometimes laughs outright. now, would all this have happened if i had returned to england a rich woman? surely not. a few words more ere i bring these egotistical remarks to a close. it is naturally with feelings of pride and pleasure that i allude to the committee recently organized to aid me; and if i indulge in the vanity of placing their names before my readers, it is simply because every one of the following noblemen and gentlemen knew me in the crimea, and by consenting to assist me now record publicly their opinion of my services there. and yet i may reasonably on other grounds be proud of the fact, that it has been stated publicly that my present embarrassments originated in my charities and incessant labours among the army, by major-general lord rokeby, k.c.b. h.s.h. prince edward of saxe weimar, c.b. his grace the duke of wellington. his grace the duke of newcastle. the right hon. lord ward. general sir john burgoyne, k.c.b. major-general sir richard airey, k.c.b. rear-admiral sir stephen lushington, k.c.b. colonel m'murdo, c.b. colonel chapman, c.b. lieutenant-colonel ridley, c.b. major the hon. f. keane. w. h. russell, esq. (_times_ correspondent). w. t. doyne, esq. the end. london: printed by thomas harrild, , salisbury square, fleet street. transcriber's note minor typographic errors have been corrected without note. page --omitted 'i' added--"i must do them credit to say, that they were never loath ..." page --omitted 'the' added--"... which is hired by the government, at great cost ..." there are also a few scots words in this text. these include 'waesome', meaning sorrowful, woeful; and 'brash', meaning attack. some archaic spelling is also used (for example, secresy), which has been retained. the few oe ligatures have not been retained in this version. [frontispiece: peter the great.] a short history of russia by mary platt parmele illustrated new york charles scribner's sons copyright, , , , by mary platt parmele preface. if this book seems to have departed from the proper ideal of historic narrative--if it is the history of a _power_, and not of a _people_--it is because the russian people have had no history yet. there has been no evolution of a russian nation, but only of a vast governing system; and the words "russian empire" stand for a majestic world-power in which the mass of its people have no part. a splendidly embroidered robe of europeanism is worn over a chaotic, undeveloped mass of semi-barbarism. the reasons for this incongruity--the natural obstacles with which russia has had to contend; the strange ethnic problems with which it has had to deal; its triumphant entry into the family of great nations; and the circumstances leading to the disastrous conflict recently concluded, and the changed conditions resulting from it--such is the story this book has tried to tell. m. p. p. contents. chapter i. natural conditions greek colonies on the black sea the scythians ancient traces of slavonic race chapter ii. hunnish invasion distribution of races slavonic religion primitive political conceptions chapter iii. the scandinavian in russia rurik oleg igor olga's vengeance olga a christian sviatoslaf russia the champion of the greek empire in bulgaria norse dominance in heroic period chapter iv. system of appanages vladimir the sinner becomes vladimir the saint russia forcibly christianized causes underlying antagonism between greek and latin church russia joined to the greek currents and separated from the latin chapter v. principalities headship of house of rurik relation of grand prince to the others civilizing influences from greek sources cruelty not indigenous with the slavs how and whence it came primitive social elements the drujina end of heroic period andrew bogoliubski new political center at suzdal chapter vi. the republic of novgorod invasion of baltic provinces by germans livonian and teutonic orders russian territory becomes prussia mongol invasion genghis khan cause of downfall chapter vii. the rule of the khans humiliation of princes novgorod the last to fall alexander nevski russia under the yoke chapter viii. lithuania its union with poland a conquest of russia intended daniel first prince of moscow moscow becomes the ecclesiastical center power gravitates toward that state centralization dmitri donskoi golden horde crumbling chapter ix. origin of ottoman empire turks in constantinople moscow the spiritual heir to byzantium ivan married to a daughter of the caesars civilizing streams flowing into moscow work for ivan iii. and how he did it friendly relations with the khans reply to demand for tribute in the yoke broken chapter x. vasili the blind fall of pskof splendor of courts ceremonial nature of struggle which was evolving chapter xi. ivan iv. his childhood _coup d'État_ unmasking of adashef and silvester a gentle youth developing into a monster solicitude for the souls of his victims destruction of novgorod england enters russia by a side door friendship with elizabeth acquisition of siberia the _sobor_ or states-general summoned ivan slays his son and heir his death chapter xii. boris godunof the way to power a _boyar_ tsar of russia serfdom created the false dmitri mikhail the first romanoff chapter xiii. time of preparation the cossacks attempt of nikon death of mikhail alexis sympathizes with charles ii. natalia death of alexis feodor chapter xiv. sophia regent peter i. childhood visit to archangel azof captured how a navy was built sentiment concerning reforms a conspiracy nipped in the bud peter astonishes western europe chapter xv. charles xii. battle of narva st. petersburg founded mazeppa poltova peter's marriage with catherine chapter xvi. campaign against turks disaster averted azof relinquished treaty of pruth reforms the raskolniks visit to france his son alexis a traitor his death chapter xvii. catherine i. anna ivanovna ivan vi. elizabeth petrovna french influences succeed the german peter iii. his taking off catherine ii. chapter xviii. conditions in poland victories in the black sea pugatchek the pretender peasants' war reforms partition of poland characteristics of catherine and of her reign her death chapter xix. paul i. napoleon bonaparte franco-russian understanding assassination of paul alexander i. chapter xx. plans for a liberal reign austerlitz alexander i. an ally of napoleon rupture of friendship french army in moscow its retreat and extinction the tsar a liberator in europe failure of reforms araktcheef's severities conspiracy at kief death of alexander i. chapter xxi. constantine's renunciation revolt succession of nicholas i. order restored character of nicholas his policy polish insurrection reactionary measures europe excluded turco-russian understanding beginning of the great diplomatic game nature of the eastern question intellectual expansion in russia chapter xxii. in europe nicholas aids francis joseph hungary subjugated nicholas claims to be protector of eastern christendom attempt to secure england's co-operation russia's grievance against turkey his demands france and england in alliance for defense of sultan allied armies in the black sea the crimean war odessa alma siege of sevastopol death of nicholas i. chapter xxiii. alexander ii. end of crimean war reaction toward liberalism emancipation of serfs means by which it was effected patriarchalism retained hopes awakened in poland rebellion how it was disposed of chapter xxiv. reaction toward severity bulgaria and the bashi-bazuks russia the champion of the balkan states turco-russian war treaty of san stefano sentiment in europe congress of berlin diplomatic defeat of russia waning popularity of alexander ii. chapter xxv. emancipation a disappointment social discontent birth of nihilism assassination of alexander ii. the peasants' wreath alexander iii. a joyless reign his death chapter xxvi. nicholas ii. russification of finland invitation to disarmament brief review of conditions supplement. conditions preceding russo-japanese war nature of dispute results of conflict peace conference at portsmouth treaty signed a national assembly dissolution of first russian parliament present outlook list of princes. index. illustrations. peter the great . . . . . . _frontispiece_ the czar iván the terrible and his son iván ivánovitch the coronation of the czar alexander iii., scene during the russo-japanese war: russian soldiers on the march in manchuria a short history of russia chapter i primitive conditions and races the topography of a country is to some extent a prophecy of its future. had there been no mississippi coursing for three thousand miles through the north american continent, no ohio and missouri bisecting it from east to west, no great inland seas indenting and watering it, no fertile prairies stretching across its vast areas, how different would have been the history of our own land. russia is the strange product of strange physical conditions. nature was not in impetuous mood when she created this greater half of europe, nor was she generous, except in the matter of space. she was slow, sluggish, but inexorable. no volcanic energies threw up rocky ridges and ramparts in titanic rage, and then repentantly clothed them with lovely verdure as in spain, italy, and elsewhere. no hungry sea rushed in and tore her coast into fragments. it would seem to have been just a cold-blooded experiment in subjecting a vast region to the most rigorous and least generous conditions possible, leaving it unshielded alike from polar winds in winter or scorching heat in summer, divesting it of beauty and of charm, and then casting this arid, frigid, torpid land to a branch of the human family as unique as its own habitation; separating it by natural and almost impassable barriers from civilizing influences, and in strange isolation leaving it to work out its own problem of development. we have only to look on the map at the ragged coast-lines of greece, italy, and the british isles to realize how powerful a factor the sea has been in great civilizations. russia, like a thirsty giant, has for centuries been struggling to get to the tides which so generously wash the rest of europe. during the earlier periods of her history she had not a foot of seaboard; and even now she possesses only a meager portion of coast-line for such an extent of territory; one-half of this being, except for three months in the year, sealed up with ice. but russia is deficient in still another essential feature. every other european country possesses a mountain system which gives form and solidity to its structure. she alone has no such system. no skeleton or backbone gives promise of stability to the dull expanse of plains through which flow her great lazy rivers, with scarce energy enough to carry their burdens to the sea. mountains she has, but she shares them with her neighbors; and the carpathians, caucasus, and ural are simply a continuous girdle for a vast inclosure of plateaus of varying altitudes,[ ] and while elsewhere it is the office of great mountain ranges to nourish, to enrich, and to beautify, in this strange land they seem designed only to imprison. it is obvious that in a country so destitute of seaboard, its rivers must assume an immense importance. the history, the very life of russia clusters about its three great rivers. these have been the arteries which have nourished, and indeed created, this strange empire. the _volga_, with its seventy-five mouths emptying into the caspian sea, like a lazy leviathan brought back currents from the orient; then the _dnieper_, flowing into the black sea, opened up that communication with byzantium which more than anything else has influenced the character of russian development; and finally, in comparatively recent times, the _neva_ has borne those long-sought civilizing streams from western europe which have made of it a modern state and joined it to the european family of nations. it would seem that the great region we now call russia was predestined to become one empire. no one part could exist without all the others. in the north is the _zone of forests_, extending from the region of moscow and novgorod to the arctic circle. at the extreme southeast, north of the caspian sea and at the gateway leading into asia, are the _barren steppes_, unsuited to agriculture or to civilized living; fit only for the raising of cattle and the existence of asiatic nomads, who to this day make it their home. between these two extremes lie two other zones of extraordinary character, the _black lands_ and the _arable steppes_, or prairies. the former zone, which is of immense extent, is covered with a deep bed of black mold of inexhaustible fertility, which without manure produces the richest harvests, and has done so since the time of herodotus, at which period it was the granary of athens and of eastern europe. the companion zone, running parallel with this, known as the arable steppes, which nearly resembles the american prairies, is almost as remarkable as the black lands. its soil, although fertile, has to be renewed. but an amazing vegetation covers this great area in summer with an ocean of verdure six or eight feet high, in which men and cattle may hide as in a forest. it is these two zones in the heart of russia that have fed millions of people for centuries, which make her now one of the greatest competitors in the markets of the world. it is easy to see the interdependence created by this specialization in production, and the economic necessity it has imposed for an undivided empire. the forest zone could not exist without the corn of the black lands and the prairies, nor without the cattle of the steppes. nor could those treeless regions exist without the wood of the forests. so it is obvious that when nature girdled this eastern half of europe, she marked it for one vast empire; and when she covered those monotonous plateaus with a black mantle of extraordinary fertility, she decreed that the russians should be an agricultural people. and when she created natural conditions unmitigated and unparalleled in severity, she ordained that this race of toilers should be patient and submissive under austerities; that their pulse should be set to a slow, even rhythm, in harmony with the low key in which nature spoke to them. it is impossible to say when an asiatic stream began to pour into europe over the arid steppes north of the caspian. but we know that as early as the fifth century b. c. the greeks had established trading stations on the northern shores of the black sea, and that these in the fourth century had become flourishing colonies through their trade with the motley races of barbarians that swarmed about that region, who by the greeks were indiscriminately designated by the common name of scythians. the greek colonists, who always carried with them their religion, their homer, their love of beauty, and the arts of their mother cities, established themselves on and about the promontory of the crimea, and built their city of chersonesos where now is sebastopol. they first entered into wars and then alliances with these scythians, who served them as middle-men in trade with the tribes beyond, and in time a graeco-scythian state of the bosphorus came into existence. herodotus in the fifth century wrote much about these so-called scythians, whom he divides into the agricultural scythians, presumably of the black lands, and the nomad scythians, of the barren steppes. his extravagant and fanciful pictures of those barbarians have long been studied by the curious; but light from an unexpected source has been thrown upon the subject, and greek genius has rescued for us the type of humanity first known in russia. there are now in the museum at st. petersburg two priceless works of art found in recent years in a tomb in southern russia. they are two vases of mingled gold and silver upon which are wrought pictures more faithful and more eloquent than those drawn by herodotus. these figures of the scythians, drawn probably as early as b. c., reproduce unmistakably the russian peasant of to-day. the same bearded, heavy-featured faces; the long hair coming from beneath the same peaked cap; the loose tunic bound by a girdle; the trousers tucked into the boots, and the general type, not alone distinctly aryan, but _slavonic_. and not only that; we see them breaking in and bridling their horses, in precisely the same way as the russian peasant does to-day on those same plains. assuredly the vexed question concerning the scythians is in a measure answered; and we know that some of them at least were slavonic. but the passing illumination produced by the approach of greek civilization did not penetrate to the region beyond, where was a tumbling, seething world of asiatic tribes and peoples, aryan, tatar, and turk, more or less mingled in varying shades of barbarism, all striving for mastery. this elemental struggle was to resolve itself into one between aryan and non-aryan--the slav and the finn; and this again into one between the various members of the slavonic family; then a life-and-death struggle with asiatic barbarism in its worst form (the mongol), with tatar and turk always remaining as disturbing factors. how, and the steps by which, the least powerful branch of the slavonic race obtained the mastery and headship of russia and has come to be one of the leading powers of the earth, is the story this book will try to tell. [ ] in the tatar language the word ural signifies "girdle." chapter ii slavonic religious and political systems in speaking of this eastern half of europe as _russia_, we have been borrowing from the future. at the time we have been considering there was no russia. the world into which christ came contained no russia. the roman empire rose and fell, and still there was no russia. spain, italy, france, and england were taking on a new form of life through the infusion of teuton strength, and modern europe was coming into being, and still the very name of russia did not exist. the great expanse of plains, with its medley of oriental barbarism, was to europe the obscure region through which had come the hunnish invasion from asia. this catastrophe was the only experience that this land had in common with the rest of europe. the goths had established an empire where the ancient graeco-scythians had once been. the overthrowing of this gothic empire was the beginning of attila's european conquests; and the passage of the hunnish horde, precisely as in the rest of europe, produced a complete overturning. a torrent of oriental races, finns, bulgarians, magyars, and others, rushed in upon the track of the huns, and filled up the spaces deserted by the goths. here as elsewhere the hun completed his appointed task of a rearrangement of races; thus fundamentally changing the whole course of future events. perhaps there would be no magyar race in hungary, and certainly a different history to write of russia, had there been no hunnish invasion in a. d. the old roman empire, which in its decay had divided into an eastern and a western empire (in the fourth century), had by the fifth century succumbed to the new forces which assailed it, leaving only a glittering remnant at byzantium. the eastern or byzantine empire, rich in pride and pretension, but poor in power, was destined to stand for one thousand years more, the shining conservator of the christian religion (although in a form quite different from the church of rome) and of greek culture. it is impossible to imagine what our civilization would be to-day if this splendid fragment of the roman empire had not stood in shining petrifaction during the ages of darkness, guarding the treasures of a dead past. while these tremendous changes were occurring in the west, unconscious as toiling insects the various peoples in russia were preparing for an unknown future. the bulgarians were occupying large spaces in the south. the finns, who had been driven by the bulgarians from their home upon the volga, had centered in the northwest near the baltic, their vigorous branches mingled more or less with other asiatic races, stretching here and there in the north, south, and east. the russian slavs, as the parent stem is called, were distributing themselves along a strip of territory running north and south along the line of the dnieper; while the terrible turks, and still more terrible tatar tribes, hovered chiefly about the black, the caspian, and the sea of azof. no dream of unity had come to anyone. but had there been a forecast then of the future, it would have been said that the more finely organized finn would become the dominant race; or perhaps the bulgarian, who was showing capacity for empire-building; but certainly not that helpless slavonic people wedged in between their stronger neighbors. but there were no large ambitions yet. it meant nothing to them that there was a new "holy roman empire," and that charlemagne had been crowned at rome successor of the roman caesars ( a. d.); nor that an england had just been consolidated into one kingdom. nor did it concern them that the saracen had overthrown a gothic empire in spain ( ). for them these things did not exist. but they knew about constantinople. the byzantine empire was the sun which shone beyond their horizon, and was for them the supreme type of power and earthly splendor. whatever ambitions and aspirations would in time awaken in these oriental breasts must inevitably have for their ideal the splendid despotism of the eastern caesars. but that stage had not yet been reached. although branches of the slavonic race had separated from the parent stem, bearing different names, the bohemians on the vistula, the poliani in what was to become poland, the lithuanians near the baltic, and minor tribes scattered elsewhere, from the peloponnesus to the baltic, all had the same general characteristics. their religion, like that of all aryan peoples, was a pantheism founded upon the phenomena of nature. in their pantheon there was a volos, a solar deity who, like the greek apollo, was inspirer of poets and protector of the flocks--perun, god of thunder--stribog, the father of the winds, like aeolus--a proteus who could assume all shapes--centaurs, vampires, and hosts of minor deities, good and evil. there were neither temples nor priests, but the oak was venerated and consecrated to perun; and rude idols of wood stood upon the hills, where sacrifices were offered to them and they were worshiped by the people. they believed that their dead passed into a future life, and from the time of the early scythians it had been the custom to strangle a male and a female servant of the deceased to accompany him on his journey to the other land. the barbarity of their religious rites varied with the different tribes, but the general characteristics were the same, and the people everywhere were profoundly attached to their pagan ceremonies and under the dominion of an intense form of superstition. slav society was everywhere founded upon the patriarchal principle. the father was absolute head of the family, his authority passing undiminished upon his death to the oldest surviving member. this was the social unit. the commune, or _mir_, was only the expansion of the family, and was subject to the authority of a council, composed of the elders of the several families, called the _vetché_. the village lands were held in common by this association. the territory was the common property of the whole. no hay could be cut nor fish caught without permission from the _vetché_. then all shared alike the benefit of the enterprise. the communes nearest together formed a still larger group called a _volost_; that is, a canton or parish, which was governed by a council composed of the elders of the communes, one of whom was recognized as the chief. beyond this the idea of combination or unity did not extend. such was the primitive form of society which was common to all the slavonic branches. it was communistic, patriarchal, and just to the individual. they had no conception of tribal unity, nor of a sovereignty which should include the whole. if the slav ever came under the despotism of a strong personal government, the idea must come from some external source; it must be imposed, not grow; for it was not indigenous in the character of the people. it would be perfectly natural for them to submit to it if it came, for they were a passive people, but they were incapable of creating it. chapter iii rurik and his descendants the russian slavs were an agricultural, not a warlike, people. they fought bravely, but naked to the waist, and with no idea of military organization, so were of course no match for the turks, well skilled in the arts of war, nor for the armed bands of scandinavian merchants, who made their territory a highway by which to reach the greek provinces. all the slav asked was to be permitted to gather his harvests, and dwell in his wooden towns and villages in peace. but this he could not do. not only was he under tribute to the khazarui (a powerful tribe of mingled finnish and turkish blood), and harried by the turks, in the south; overrun by the finns and lithuanians in the north; but in his imperfect political condition he was broken up into minute divisions, canton incessantly at war with canton, and there could be no peace. the roving bands of scandinavian traders and freebooters were alternately his persecutors and protectors. after burning his villages for some fancied offense, and appropriating his cattle and corn, they would sell their service for the protection of kief, novgorod, and pskof as freely as they did the same thing to constantinople and the greek cities. in other words, these brilliant, masterful intruders were _northmen_, and can undoubtedly be identified with those roving sea-kings who terrorized western europe for a long and dreary period. the disheartened slavs of novgorod came to a momentous decision. they invited these varangians--as they are called--to come and administer their government. they said: "our land is great and fruitful, but it lacks order and justice. come--take possession, and govern us." with the arrival from sweden of the three vikings, rurik and his two brothers sineus and truvor, the true history of russia begins, and the one thousandth anniversary of that event was commemorated at novgorod in the year . rurik was the clovis of russia. when with his band of followers he was established at novgorod the name of russia came into existence, supposedly from the finnish word _ruotsi_, meaning rowers or sea-farers. slavonia was not only christened but regenerated at this period, and infused into it were the new elements of martial order, discipline, and the habit of implicit obedience to a chosen or hereditary chief; and as rurik's brothers soon conveniently died, their territory also passed to him, and he assumed the title of grand prince. upon the death of rurik in , his younger brother oleg succeeded him as regent during the minority of his son igor; and when two more varangian brothers--askold and dir--in the same manner--except that they were not invited--took possession of kief on the dnieper and set up a rival principality in the south with ambitious designs upon byzantium, oleg promptly had them assassinated, added their territory to the dominion of igor, and removed the capital from novgorod to kief--saying, "let kief be the mother of russian cities!" then after selecting a wife named olga for the young igor, he turned his attention toward byzantium, the powerful magnet about which russian policy was going to revolve for many centuries. so invincible and so wise was this oleg that he was believed to be a sorcerer. when the greek emperor blockaded the passage of the bosphorus in , he placed his two thousand boats (!) upon wheels, and let the sails carry them overland to the gates of constantinople. the russian poet pushkin has made this the subject of a poem which tells how oleg, after exacting tribute from the frightened emperor leo vi., in true norse fashion, hung his shield upon the golden gates as a parting insult. again and again were the greeks compelled to pay for immunity from these invasions of the varangian princes. after the death of oleg, igor reigned, and in led another expedition against constantinople which we are told was driven back by "greek-fire." then enlisting the aid of the pechenegs, a ferocious tatar tribe, he returned with such fury, and inflicted such atrocities, that the greek emperor begged for mercy and offered to pay any price to be left alone. the invaders said: "if caesar speaks thus, what more do we want than to have gold and silver and silks without fighting." a treaty of peace was signed ( ), the russians swearing by their god perun, and the greeks by the gospels; and the victorious igor turned his face toward kief. but he was never to reach that place. the drevlians, the most savage of the tatar tribes, had been forced to pay him a large tribute, and were meditating upon their revenge. they said: "let us kill the wolf or we will lose the flock." they watched their opportunity, seized him, tied him to two young trees bent forcibly together; then, letting them spring apart, the son of rurik was torn to pieces. no act of the wise regent oleg was more fruitful in consequences than the choice of a wife for the young igor. olga, who acted as regent during the minority of her son, was destined to be not only the heroine of the epic cycle in russia, but the first apostle of christianity in that heathen land; canonized by the church, and remembered as "the first russian who mounted to the heavenly kingdom." when the drevlians sent gifts to appease her wrath at the murder of igor, and offered her the hand of their prince, she had the messengers buried alive. all she asked was three pigeons and three sparrows from every house in their capital town. lighted tow was tied to the tails of the birds, which were then permitted to fly back to their homes under the eaves of the thatched houses. in the conflagration which followed, the inhabitants were massacred in a pleasing variety of ways; some strangled, some smothered in vapor, some buried alive, and those remaining reduced to slavery. but an extraordinary transformation was at hand; and this vindictive heathen woman was going to be changed to an ardent convert to the christian faith. nestor, who is the russian herodotus, relates that she went to constantinople in , to inquire into the mysteries of the christian church. the emperor was astonished, it is said, at the strength and adroitness of her mind. she was baptized by the greek patriarch, under the new name of helen, the emperor acting as her godfather. there were already a few christians in kief, but so unpopular was the new religion that olga's son sviatoslaf, upon reaching his majority, absolutely refused to make himself ridiculous by adopting his mother's faith. "my men will mock me," was his reply to olga's entreaties, and nestor adds "that he often became furious with her" for her importunity. sviatoslaf, the son of igor and olga, although the first prince to bear a russian name, was the very type of the cunning, ambitious, and intrepid northman, and his brief reign ( - ) displayed all these qualities. he defeated the khazarui, the most civilized of all those oriental people, and once the most powerful. he subjugated the pechenegs, perhaps the most brutal and least civilized of all the barbarians. but these were only incidental to his real purpose. the bulgarian empire was large, and had played an important part in the past. it had a tsar, while russia had only a grand prince, and, although now declining in strength, was a troublesome neighbor to the greek empire. the oft-repeated mistake of inviting the aid of another people was committed. nothing could have better pleased sviatoslaf than to assist the greek empire, and when he captured the bulgarian capital city on the danube, and even talked of making it his own capital instead of kief, it looked as if a great slav empire was forming with its center almost within sight of constantinople. the greeks were dismayed. with the russians in the balkan peninsula, the center of their dominions upon the danube--with the scythian hordes in the south ready to do their bidding--and with scattered slavonic tribes from macedon to the peloponnesos gravitating toward them, what might they not do? no more serious danger had ever threatened the empire of the east. they rushed to rescue bulgaria from the very enemy they had invited to overthrow it. after a prolonged struggle, and in spite of the wild courage displayed by sviatoslaf, he was driven back, and compelled to swear by perun and volos never again to invade bulgaria. if they broke their vows, might they become "as yellow as gold, and perish by their own arms." but this was for sviatoslaf the last invasion of any land. the avenging pechenegs were waiting in ambush for his return. they cut off his head and presented his skull to their prince as a drinking cup ( ). it seems scarcely necessary to call attention to the fact that the transforming energy in this early period of russian history was not in the native people; but that the slav, in the hands of his norse rulers, was as clay in the hands of the potter. in the treaty of peace signed at kief ( ) by the victorious igor, of the fifty names recorded by nestor only three were slavonic and the rest scandinavian. there can be no doubt which was the dominant race in this the heroic age of russia. so we have seen a weaker people submitting to the rule of a stronger, not by conquest, like spain under the visigoths; not overrun and overridden as britain by the angles and saxons and gaul by the franks; but, in recognition of its own helplessness, voluntarily becoming subject to the control of strangers. and we see at the same time the brilliant, restless norseman, with no plan of establishing a racial dominion, but simply in the temporary enjoyment of his own warlike and robber instincts, engrafting himself upon a less gifted people, and then adopting its language and customs, letting himself be absorbed into the nationality he has helped to create, and becoming a russian, with the same facility as rollo and his sons at the very same period were becoming frenchmen. chapter iv russians conversion--greek and latin christianity so the scattered clans of the slav race were roughly drawn together into something resembling a nation by the strong arm of the scandinavian. but the course of national progress is never a straight one. nature understands better than we the value of retarding influences, which prevent the too rapid fusing of crude elements. this work of retardation was performed for russia by sviatoslaf. when, instead of leaving his dominions to his oldest son, he divided them among the three, he introduced a vicious system which was to become a fatal source of weakness. this is known as the system of _appanages_. to his son yaropolk he gave kief, to oleg the territory of the drevlians, and to vladimir novgorod. but as vladimir quickly assassinated yaropolk, who had already assassinated oleg, the injurious results of the system were not directly felt! vladimir became the sole ruler. he then started upon a course of unbridled profligacy. he compelled the widow of his murdered brother to marry him--then a beautiful greek nun who had been captured from byzantium--then a bulgarian and a bohemian wife, until finally his household was numbered by hundreds. but this sensual barbarian began to be conscious of a soul. he was troubled, and revived the worship of the slav gods; erected on the cliffs near kief a new idol of perun, with head of silver and beard of gold. two scandinavian christians were by his orders stabbed at the feet of the idol. still his soul was unsatisfied. he determined upon a search for the best religion; sent ambassadors to examine into the religious beliefs of mussulmans, jews, catholics, and the greeks. the splendor of the greek ceremonial, the magnificence of the vestments, the incense, the music, and the presence of the emperor and his court, filled the souls of the barbarians with awe--and the final argument of his _boyars_ (or nobles) put an end to doubts: "if the greek religion had not been the best, your grandmother olga, the wisest of mortals, would not have adopted it." vladimir's choice was made. he would be baptized in the faith of olga. but this must be done at the hand of the greek patriarch; so he would conquer baptism--and ravish it like booty--not beg for it. he besieged and took a greek city. then demanded the hand of anna, sister of the greek caesar, threatening in case of refusal to march on constantinople. consent was given upon condition of baptism, which was just what the barbarian wanted. so he came back to kief a christian, bringing with him his new greek wife, and his new baptismal name of basil. amid the tears and fright of the people, the idols were torn down; perun was flogged and thrown into the dnieper. then the old pagan stream was consecrated, and men, women, and children, old and young, master and slave, were driven into the river, the greek priests standing on the banks reading the baptismal service. the frightened novgorodians were in like manner forced to hurl perun into the volkhof, and then, like herded cattle, were driven into the stream to be baptized. the work of olga was completed--russia was christianized ( )! it would be long before christianity would penetrate into the heart of the people. as late as the twelfth century only the higher classes faithfully observed the christian rites; while the old pagan ceremonies were still common among the peasantry. and even now the saints of the calendar are in some places only thinly disguised heathen deities and pagan rites and superstitions mingle with christian observances. the conversion of vladimir seems to have been sincere. from being a cruel voluptuary and assassin, he was changed to a merciful ruler who could not bear to inflict capital punishment. he was faithful to his greek wife anna. on the spot where he had once erected perun, and where the two scandinavians were martyred at his command, he built the church of st. basil; and he is now remembered only as the saint who christianized pagan russia, and revered as the "beautiful sun of kief." so the two most important events considered thus far in the history of this land have been, first, its military conquest from the north, and second, its ecclesiastical conquest from the south. if the first helped it to become a nation, the second determined the character which that nationality should assume. to explain one fact by another and unfamiliar and uncomprehended fact is one of the confusing methods of history! in order to know why the adoption of the form of religion known as the greek church so powerfully influenced russian development, one must understand what that faith was and is, and the source of the antagonisms which divided the two great branches of the church of christ--the greek and the latin. the cause underlying all others is _racial_. it is explained in their names. the theology of one had its roots in greek philosophy; that of the other in roman law. one tended to a brilliant diversity, the other to centralization and unity. one was a group of ecclesiastical states, a hierarchy and a _polyarchy_, governed by patriarchs, each supreme in his own diocese; the other was a _monarchy_, arbitrarily and diplomatically governed from one center. it was the difference between an archipelago and a continent, and not unlike the difference between ancient greece and rome. one had the tremendous principle of growth, stability, and permanence; the other had not. such were the race tendencies which led to entirely different ecclesiastical systems. then there arose differences in dogma; and rome considered the church in the east schismatic, and byzantium held that that of the west was heterodox. they now not only disapproved of each other's methods, but what was more serious, held different creeds. the latin church, after its bishop had become an infallible pope (about the middle of the fifth century), claimed that the church in the east must accept his definition of dogma as final. it was one small word which finally rent these two bodies of christendom forever apart. it was only the word _filioque_ which made the impassable gulf dividing them. the latins maintained that the holy spirit proceeded from the father--_and the son_; the greeks that it descended from the father alone. it was the undying controversy concerning the relations and the attributes of the three members of the trinity; and the insoluble question was destined to break up greek and catholic church alike into numberless sects and shades of belief or unbelief; and over this christological controversy, rivers of blood were to flow in both branches of christendom. the theological question involved was of course too subtle for ordinary comprehension. but although men on both sides stood ready to die for the decisions of their councils which they did not understand, there was underlying the whole question the political jealousy existing between the two: byzantium, embittered by the effacement of its political jurisdiction in the west, exasperated at the overweening pretensions of roman bishops; rome, watching for opportunity to cajole or compel the eastern church to submit to her authority and headship. such was the condition of things when russia allied herself in that most vital way with the empire in the east. it is impossible to measure the importance of the step, or to imagine what would have been the history of that country had vladimir decided to accept the religion of rome and become catholic, as the slav in poland had already done. by his choice not only is it possible that he added some centuries to the life of the greek empire itself, but he determined the type of russian civilization. when she allied herself with byzantium instead of rome, russia separated herself from those european currents from which she was already by natural and inherited conditions isolated. she thus prolonged and emphasized the orientalism which so largely shaped her destiny, and produced a nationality absolutely unique in the family of european nations, in that there is _but one single root in russia which can be traced back to the roman empire_; and whereas most of the european civilizations are built upon a roman foundation, there is only one current in the life of that nation to-day which has flowed from a latin source: that is a judicial code which was founded (in part) upon roman law as embodied by justinian, emperor of the empire in the east ( - ). chapter v principalities--expansion northward when vladimir died, in , the partition of his dominions among numerous heirs inaugurated the destructive system of _appanages_. the country was converted into a group of principalities ruled by princes of the same blood, of which the principality of kief was chief, and its ruler _grand prince_. kief, the "mother of cities," was the heart of russia, and its prince, the oldest of the descendants of rurik, had a recognized supremacy over the others; who must, however, also belong to this royal line. no prince could rule anywhere who was not a descendant of rurik; kief, the greatest prize of all, going to the oldest; and when a grand prince died, his son was not his rightful heir, but his uncle, or brother, or cousin, or whoever among the princes had the right by seniority. this was a survival of the patriarchal system of the slavs, showing how the norse rulers had adapted themselves to the native customs as before stated. so while in thus breaking up the land into small jealous and rival states independent of each other--with only a nominal headship at kief--while in this there was a movement toward chaos, there were after all some bonds of unity which could not be severed: a unity of race and language; a unity of historical development; a unity in religion; and the political unity created by the fact that all the thrones were filled by members of the same family, any one of whom might become grand prince if enough of the intervening members could--by natural or other means--be disposed of. this was a standing invitation for assassination and anarchy, and one which was not neglected. immediately upon the death of vladimir there commenced a carnival of fraternal murders, which ended by leaving yaroslaf to whom had been assigned the principality of novgorod, upon the throne at kief. the "mother of russian cities" began to show the effect of greek influences. the greek clergy had brought something besides oriental christianity into the land of barbarians. they brought a desire for better living. learning began to be prized; schools were created. music and architecture, hitherto absolutely unknown, were introduced. kief grew splendid, and with its four hundred churches and its gilded cupolas lighted by the sun, was striving to be like constantinople. not alone the sacred books of byzantine literature, but works upon philosophy and science, and even romance, were translated into the slavonic language. russia was no longer the simple, untutored barbarian, guided by unbridled impulses. she was taking her first lesson in civilization. she was beginning to be wise; learning new accomplishments, and, alas!--to be systematically and judicially cruel! nothing could have been more repugnant or foreign to the free slav barbarian than the penal code which was modeled by yaroslaf upon the one at byzantium. corporal punishment was unknown to the slav, and was abhorrent to his instincts. this seems a strange statement to make regarding the land of the _knout_! but it is true. and imprisonment, convict labor, flogging, torture, mutilation, and even the death penalty, came into this land by the way of constantinople. at the same time there mingled with this another stream from scandinavia, another judicial code which sanctioned private revenge, the pursuit of an assassin by all the relatives of the dead; also the ordeal by red-hot iron and boiling water. but to the native slav race, corporal punishment, with its humiliations and its refinements of cruelty, was unknown until brought to it by stronger and wiser people from afar. when we say that russia was putting on a garment of civilization, let no one suppose we mean the _people_ of russia. it was the princes, and their military and civil households; it was official russia that was doing this. the _people_ were still sowing and reaping, and sharing the fruit of their toil in common, unconscious as the cattle in their fields that a revolution was taking place, ready to be driven hither and thither, coerced by a power which they did not comprehend, their horizon bounded by the needs of the day and hour. the elements constituting russian society were the same in all the principalities. there was first the prince. then his official family, a band of warriors called the _drujina_. this drujina was the germ of the future state. its members were the faithful servants of the prince, his guard and his counselors. he could constitute them a court of justice, or could make them governors of fortresses (_posadniki_) or lieutenants in the larger towns. the prince and his drujina were like a family of soldiers, bound together by a close tie. the body was divided into three orders of rank: first, the simple guards; second, those corresponding to the french barons; and, third, the _boyars_, the most illustrious of all, second only to the prince. the drujina was therefore the germ of aristocratic russia, next below it coming the great body of the people, the citizens and traders, then the peasant, and last of all the slave. yaroslaf, the "legislator," known as the charlemagne of russia, died in the year . the eastern and western empires, long divided in sentiment, were that same year separated in fact, when pope leo vi. excommunicated the whole body of the church in the east. with the death of yaroslaf the first and heroic period in russia closes. sagas and legendary poems have preserved for us its grim outlines and its heroes, of whom vladimir, the "beautiful sun of kief," is chief. thus far there has been a unity in the thread of russian history--but now came chaos. who can relate the story of two centuries in which there have been civil wars-- foreign campaigns against one country alone, not to speak of the others-- barbaric invasions, and in which princes are said to have disputed the throne of kief and other domains! we repeat: who could tell this story of chaos; and who, after it is told, would read it? it was a vast upheaval, a process in which the eternal purposes were "writ large"--too large to be read at the time. it was not intended that only the fertile black lands along the dnieper, near to the civilizing center at constantinople, should absorb the life currents. all of russia was to be vitalized; the bleak north as well as the south; the zone of the forests as well as the fertile steppes. the instruments appointed to accomplish this great work were--the disorder consequent upon the reapportionment of the territory at the death of each sovereign--the fierce rivalries of ambitious princes--and the barbaric encroachments to which the prevailing anarchy made the south the prey. by the twelfth century the civil war had become distinctly a war between a new russia of the forests and the old russia of the fertile steppes. the cause of the north had a powerful leader in andrew bogoliubski. andrew was the grandson of monomakh and the son of yuri (or george) dolgoruki--both of whom were grand princes of extraordinary abilities and commanding qualities. in andrew, who was then prince of suzdal, came with an immense army of followers; he marched against kief. the "mother of russian cities" was taken by assault, sacked and pillaged, and the grand principality ceased to exist. russia was preparing to revolve around a new center in the northeast; and with the new grand principality of suzdal, far removed from byzantine and western civilizations, it looked like a return toward barbarism, but was in fact the circuitous road to progress. the life of the nation needed to be drawn to its extremities, and the ambitious andrew, who assumed the title and authority of grand prince, had established a line which was destined to lead to the czars of future russia. chapter vi german invasion--mongol invasion the principality of novgorod had from a remote antiquity been the political center of northern, as was kief of southern russia. it was the novgorodians who invited the norse princes to come and rule the land; and it was the novgorodians who were their least submissive subjects. when one of the grand princes proposed to send his son, whom they did not want, to be their prince, they replied: "send him here if he has a spare head." it was a fearless, proud republic, as patriotic and as quarrelsome as florence, which it somewhat resembled. their prince was in reality a figurehead. he was considered essential to the dignity of the state, but his fortunes were in the hands of two political parties, of which he represented the party in the ascendant. novgorod was a commercial city--its life was in its trade with the orient and the greek empire, and like the italian cities, its politics were swayed by economic interests. those in trade with the east through the volga desired a prince from one of the great families about that oriental artery in the southeast; while those whose fortunes depended upon the greeks preferred one from kief or the principalities on the dnieper. when one party fell, the prince fell with it, and as the formula expressed it, they then "made him a reverence, and showed him the way out of novgorod"--or else held him captive until his successor arrived. princes might come, and princes might go, but an irrepressible spirit of freedom "went on forever"; the reigns all too short and troubled to disturb the ancient liberties and customs of the republic. no grand prince was ever powerful enough to impose upon them a prince they did not want, and no prince strong enough to oppose the will of the people; every act of his requiring the sanction of their _posadnik_, a high official--and every decision subject to reversal by the _vetché_, the popular assembly. the _vetché_ was, in fact, the real sovereign of the proud republic which styled itself, "my lord novgorod the great." such was the remarkable state which played an important, and certainly the most picturesque, part in the history of russia. the first thought of the new grand prince at suzdal was to prevent the possible rivalry of this arrogant principality in the north, by conquering it and breaking its spirit. he was also resolved to break thoroughly with the past, to destroy the system of appanages, and had conceived the idea of the modern undivided state. he removed his capital from the old town of suzdal, which had its _vetché_ or popular assembly, to vladimir, which had had none of these things, assigning as his reason, not that he intended to be sole master and free from all ancient trammels--but that the mother of god had come to him in a dream and commanded him so to do! but an end came to all his dreams and ambitions. he was assassinated in by his own _boyars_, who were exasperated by his subversive policy and suspicions of his daring reforms. with the setting of the currents of russian national life toward the north, there was awakened in europe a vague sense of danger. not far from novgorod, on and about the shores of the baltic, were various tributary slav tribes, mingled with pagan finns. this was the only point of actual contact, the only point without natural protection between russia and europe, and it must be guarded. german merchants, hand in hand with latin missionaries, invaded a strip of disputed territory, and, under the cloak of christianity, commenced a--_conquest_. a latin church became also a fortress; and the fortress soon expanded into a german town, and these crept every year farther and farther into the east. in order to quell the resistance of native finns and slavs, there was created, and authorized by the pope, an order of knighthood, called the "sword-bearers," with the double purpose of driving back the slavonic tide which threatened germany and at the same time christianizing it. these were the "livonian knights," who came from saxony and westphalia, armed _cap-à-pie_, with red crosses embroidered upon the shoulder of their white mantles. then another order was created ( ), the "teutonic order," wearing black crosses on their shoulders, which, after fraternizing with the livonian knights, was going to absorb them--together with some other things--into their own more powerful organization. russia had no armed warriors to meet these steel-clad germans and livonians. she had no orders of chivalry, had taken no part in the crusades, the far-off echoes of which had fallen upon unheeding ears. the russians could defend with desperate courage their own flimsy fortifications of wood, earth, and loose stones; but they could not pull down with ropes the solid german fortresses of stone and cement, and their spears were ineffectual upon the shining armor. their conquest was inevitable; the conquered territory being divided between the knights and the latin church. so königsberg and many other russian towns were captured and then teutonized, by joining them to the cities of lubeck, bremen, hamburg, etc., in the "hanseatic league." this conquest was of less future importance to russia than to western europe. it contained the germ of much history. the territory thus wrested from russia became the german state of prussia; and a future master of the teutonic order, a hohenzollern, was in later years its first king; and this was the beginning of the great german empire which confronts the empire of the czar to-day. so the conquest by the german orders was added to the other woes by which russia was rent and torn after the death of her grand prince at suzdal. to us it all seems like an unmeaning panorama of chaos and disorder. but to them it was only the vicissitudes naturally occurring in the life of a great nation. they were proud of their nationality, which had existed nearly as long as from columbus to our own day. they gloried in their splendid background of great deeds and their long line of heroes reaching back to rurik. their princes were proud and powerful--their followers (the _drujiniki_)--noble and fearless--who could stand before them? they would have exchanged their glories for those of no nation upon the earth, except perhaps that waning empire of the caesars at constantinople! such was the sentiment of russian nationality at the time when its overwhelming humiliation suddenly came, a degrading subjection to asiatic mongols, which lasted years. in the year there appeared in the southeast a strange host who claimed the land of the polovtsui, a tatar clan which had been for centuries encamped about the sea of azof. the russian chronicler naively says: "there came upon us for our sins unknown nations. god alone knew who they were, or where they came from--god, and perhaps wise men, learned in books"--which it is evident the chronicler was not! the invaders were mongols--that branch of the human family from which had come the tatars and the huns, already familiar to russia. but these mongols were the vanguard of a vast army which had streamed like a torrent through the heart of asia, conquering as it came; gathering one after another the asiatic kingdoms into an empire ruled by genghis khan, a sovereign who in forty years had made himself master of china and the greater part of asia--saying: "as there is only one sun in heaven, so there should be only one emperor on the earth"; and when he died, in , he left the largest empire that had ever existed, and one which he was preparing to extend into western europe. it was the court of this great sovereign which, in , was visited by the venetian traveler marco polo. this was the far-off cathay, descriptions of which fired the imagination of europe, and awoke a consuming desire to get access to its fabulous riches, and which two centuries later filled the mind of columbus with dreams of reaching that land of wonders by way of the west. the polovtsui appealed to the nearest principalities for help, offering to adopt their religion and to become their subjects, in return for aid. when several princes came with their armies to the rescue, the mongols sent messengers saying: "we have no quarrel with you; we have come to destroy the accursed polovtsui." the princes replied by promptly putting the ambassadors all to death. this sealed the fate of russia. there could be no compromise after that. upon that first battlefield, on the steppes near the sea of azof, there were left six princes, seventy chief _boyars_, and all but one-tenth of the russian army. after this thunderbolt had fallen an ominous quiet reigned for thirteen years. nothing more was heard of the mongols--but a comet blazing in the sky awoke vague fears. suddenly an army of five hundred thousand asiatics returned, led by batui, nephew of the great khan of khans. it was the defective political structure of russia, its division into principalities, which made it an easy prey. the mongols, moving as one man, took one principality at a time, its nobles and citizens alone bearing arms, the peasants, by far the greater part, being utterly defenseless. after wrecking and devastating that, they passed on to the next, which, however desperately defended, met the same fate. the grand principality was a ruin; its fourteen towns were burned, and when, in the absence of its grand prince, vladimir the capital city fell, the princesses and all the families of the nobles took refuge in the cathedral and perished in the general conflagration ( ). two years later kief also fell, with its white walls and towers embellished by byzantine art, its cupolas of gold and silver. all was laid in the dust, and only a few fragments in museums now remain to tell of its glory. the annalist describes the bellowings of the buffaloes, the cries of the camels, the neighing of the horses, and howlings of the tatars while the ancient and beautiful city was being laid low. before the work was complete. there was a mongol empire where had been a russian. then the tide began to set toward western europe. isolated from the other european states by her religion, russia had suffered alone. no europe sprang to her defense as to the defense of spain from the saracens. not until poland and hungary were threatened and invaded did the western kingdoms give any sign of interest. then the pope, in alarm, appealed to the christian states. frederick ii. of germany responded, and louis ix. of france (saint-louis) prepared to lead a crusade. but the storm had spent its fury upon the slavonic people, and was content to pause upon those plains which to the asiatic seemed not unlike his own home. chapter vii under mongol yoke amid the wreck of principalities there was one state remaining erect. novgorod was defended by its remoteness and its uninviting climate. the mongols had not thought it worth while to attempt the reduction of the warlike state, so the stalwart republic stood alone amid the general ruin. all the rest were under the tatar yoke. of princes there were none. all had either been slaughtered or fled. proud _boyars_ saw their wives and daughters the slaves of barbarians. delicate women who had always lived in luxury were grinding corn and preparing coarse food for their terrible masters. after the conquest was completed the mongol sovereign exacted only three things from the prostrate state--homage, tribute, and a military contingent when required. they might retain their land and their customs, might worship any god in any way; their princes might dispute for the thrones as before; but no prince--not the grand prince himself--could ascend a throne until he had permission from the great khan, to whom also every dispute between royal claimants must be deferred. then when finally the messenger came from the sovereign with the _yarlik_, or royal sanction, the prince must listen kneeling, with his head in the dust. and if then he was invited (?) to the mongol court to pay homage, he must go, even though it required (as marco polo tells us) four years to make the journey across the plains and the mountains and rivers and the great desert of gobi! when yaroslaf ii., third grand prince of suzdal, succeeded to the principality, he was _invited_ to pay this visit. after reaching there, and after all the degrading ceremonies to which he was subjected--kissing the stirrup of his suzerain, and licking up the drops which fell from his cup as he drank--then this prince of the family of rurik perished from exhaustion in the desert of gobi on his return journey. but this was not all. the yoke was a heavy as well as a degrading one. each prince with his _drujina_ must be always ready to lead an army in defense of the mongol cause if required; and, last of all, the poll-tax bore with intolerable weight upon everyone, rich or poor, excepting only the ecclesiastics and the property of the greek church, which with a singular clemency they exempted. what sort of a despotism was it, and what sort of a being, that could wield such a power from such a distance! that, across a continent it took four years to traverse, could compel such obedience; could by a word or a nod bring proud princes with rage and rebellion in their hearts to his court--not to be honored and enriched, but degraded and insulted; then in shame to turn back with their _boyars_ and retinues,--if indeed they were permitted to go back at all,--one-half of whom would perish from exhaustion by the way. what was the secret of such a power? even with all the modern appliances for conveying the will of a sovereign to-day, with railroads to carry his messengers and telegraph wires to convey his will, would it be conceivable to exert such an authority? and--listen to the language of a proud russian prince at the court of the great khan: "lord--all-powerful tsar, if i have done aught against you, i come hither to receive life or death. i am ready for either. do with me as god inspires you." or still another: "my lord and master, by thy mercy hold i my principality--with no title but thy protection and investiture--thy _yarlik_; while my uncle claims it not by your favor but by right!" it was such pleading as this that succeeded; so it is easy to see how princes at last vied with each other in being abject. in this particular case the presumptuous uncle was ordered to lead his victorious nephew's horse by the bridle, on his way to his coronation at moscow. so the path to success was through the dust, and it was the wily princes of moscow that most patiently traveled that road with important results to russia. novgorod, as we have said, had alone escaped from these degradations. her prince alexander was son of yaroslaf, the grand prince who perished in the desert on his way home. at the time of the invasion alexander was leading an army against the swedes and the livonian knights in defense of his baltic provinces. it was latin christianity _versus_ greek, and by a great victory upon the banks of the neva he earned undying fame and the surname of _nevski_. alexander nevski is remembered as the hero of the neva and of the north; yet even he was finally compelled to grovel at the feet of the barbarians. novgorod alone had stood erect, had paid no tribute and offered no homage to the khan. at last, when its destruction was at hand, thirty-six years after the invasion, nevski had the heroism to submit to the inevitable. he advised a surrender. it needed a soul of iron to brave the indignation of the republic. "he offers us servitude!" they cried. the _posadnik_ who conveyed the counsel to the _vetché_ was murdered on the spot. but alexander persisted, and he prevailed. his own son refused to share his father's disgrace, and left the state. again and again the people withdrew the consent they had given. better might novgorod perish! but finally, when alexander nevski declared that he would go, that he would leave them to their fate, they yielded, and the mongols came into a silent city, passing from house to house making lists of the inhabitants who must pay tribute. then the unhappy prince went to prostrate himself before the khan at saraï. but his heart had broken with his spirit. he had saved his state, but the task had been too heavy for him. he died from exhaustion on his journey home ( ). on account of internal convulsions in the great tatar empire, now united by kublai-khan, the fourth in succession from genghis-khan, the golden-horde had separated from the parent state, and its khan was absolute ruler of russia. so from this time the ceremony of investiture was performed at saraï; and the humiliating pilgrimages of the princes were made to that city. the religion of the mongols at the time of the invasion was a paganism founded upon sorcery and magic; but they soon thereafter adopted islamism, and became ardent followers of the prophet ( ). although they never attempted to tatarize russia, years of occupation could not fail to leave indelible traces upon a civilization which was even more than before orientalized. the dress of the upper classes became more eastern--the flowing caftan replaced the tunic, the blood of the races mingled to some extent; even the princes and _boyars_ contracting marriages with mongol women, so that in some of the future sovereigns the blood of the tatar was to be mingled with that of rurik. a weaker nation would have been crushed and disheartened by such calamities as have been described. but russia was not weak. she had a tremendous store of vigor for good or for evil. life had always been a terrible conflict, with nature and with man, and when there had been no other barbarians to fight, they had fought each other. every muscle and every sinew had always been in the highest state of activity, and was toughened and strong, with an inextinguishable vitality. such nations do not waste time in sentimental regrets. their wounds, like those of animals, heal quickly, and they are urged on by a sort of instinct to wear out the chains they cannot break. by the time novgorod came under the tatar yoke the entire state had adjusted itself to its condition of servitude. its internal economy was re-established, the peasants, in their _mirs_ or communes, sowed and reaped, and the people bought and sold, only a little more patient and submissive than before. the burden had grown heavier, but it must be borne and the tribute paid. the princes, with wits sharpened by conflict, fought as they always had, with uncles, cousins, and brothers for the thrones; and then governed with a severity as nearly as possible like the one imposed upon themselves by their own master--the great khan. the germ of future russia was there; a strong, patient, toiling people firmly held by a despotic power which they did not comprehend, and uncomplainingly and as a matter of course giving nearly one-half of the fruit of their toil for the privilege of living in their own land! when her sovereigns had tatar blood in their veins and tatar ideals in their hearts, russia was on the road to absolutism. all things were tending toward a centralized unity of an iron and inexorable type--a type entirely foreign to the natural free instincts of the slavonic people themselves. chapter viii russia becomes muscovite the tumultuous forces in russia, never at rest, were preparing to revolve about a new center. whether this would be in the east or west was long in doubt, and only decided after a prolonged struggle. western russia grouped itself about the state of the lithuanians on the baltic, and eastern russia about that of muscovy. the lithuanians had never been christianized; they still adored perun and their pagan deities; and the only bond uniting them with russia was the tribute they had for years reluctantly paid. they were ripe for rebellion; and when after long years of conflict with the livonian and teutonic orders, latin christianity obtained some foothold in their land, they began to gravitate toward catholic poland instead of greek russia; and when a marriage was suggested which should unite poland and lithuania under their prince iagello, who should reign over both at cracow, and at the same time give them their own grand prince, they consented. the forces instigating this movement had their source at rome, where the pope was unceasingly striving, through germany and poland, to carry the latin cross into russia. again and again had the greek church repulsed the offers of reconciliation and union made by rome. so, much was hoped from the proselyting of the german orders, and of catholic poland, and from the union effected by the marriage of the lithuanian prince iagello with the polish queen hedwig. the threads composing this network of policies in the west were altogether ecclesiastical, until lithuania began to feel strong enough to wash off her christian baptism and to indulge in ambitious designs of her own: to struggle away from poland, and to commence an independent and aggressive movement against russia. there was an immense vigor in this movement. the power in the west, sometimes catholic and at heart always pagan, absorbed first towns and cities and then principalities. it began to be a lithuanian conquest, and overshadowed even mongol oppression. the mongol wanted tribute; while lithuania wanted russia! but one of the gravest dangers brought by this war between the east and the west was the standing opportunity it offered to conspirators. an army of disaffected uncles and nephews and brothers, with their followers, could always find a refuge, and were always plotting and intriguing and negotiating with lithuania and poland, ready even to compromise their faith, if only they might ruin the existing powers. such, in brief, was the great conflict between the east and west, during which moscow came into being as the supreme head, the living center and germ of russian autocracy. it seems to have been the extraordinary vitality of one family which twice changed the currents of national life: first drawing them from kief to suzdal, then from suzdal toward moscow, and there establishing a center of growth which has expanded into russia as it exists to-day. this was the family of _dolgoruki_. monomakh and his son george dolgoruki, the last grand prince of kief, were both men of commanding character and abilities; and it will be remembered that it was andrew bogoliubski, the son of george (or yuri), who effected the revolution which transferred the grand principality from kief to suzdal in the bleak north. alexander nevski, the hero of the neva and of novgorod, was the descendant of this andrew (of suzdal), and it was the son of nevski who was the first prince of moscow and who there established a line of princes which has come unbroken down to nicholas ii. contrary to all the traditions of their state this dominating family was going to establish a _dynasty_, and again to remove the national life to a new center, in a grand principality toward which all of russia was gradually but inevitably to gravitate until it became _muscovite_. the city which was to exert such an influence upon russia was founded in by george (or yuri) dolgoruki, the last grand prince of kief. the story is that upon arriving once at the domain of a _boyar_ named kutchko, he caused him for some offense to be put to death; then, as he looked out upon the river moskwa from the height where now stands the kremlin, so pleased was he with the outlook that he then and there planted the nucleus of a town. whether the death of the _boyar_ or the purpose of appropriating the domain came first, is not stated; but upon the soil freshly sprinkled with human blood arose _moscow_. the town was of so little importance that its destruction by the tatars in was unobserved. in , when alexander nevski died, moscow, with a few villages, was given as a small appanage or portion to his son daniel. nevski, it must be remembered, was a direct descendant of monomakh, and of george dolgoruki, the founder of moscow. so the first prince of moscow was of this illustrious line, a line which has remained unbroken until the present time. when daniel commenced to reign over what was probably the most obscure and insignificant principality in all russia, it was surrounded by old and powerful states, in perpetual struggle with each other. the lithuanian conquest was pressing in from the west and assuming large proportions; while embracing the whole agitated surface was the odious enslavement to the mongols and their oft-recurring invasions to enforce their insolent demands. the building of the russian empire was not a dainty task! it was not to be performed by delicate instruments and gentle hands. it needed brutal measures and unpitying hearts. nor could brute force and cruelty do it alone; it required the subtler forces of mind--cold, calculating policies, patience, and craft of a subtle sort. the princes of russia had long been observant pupils, first at constantinople, and later at the feet of the khans. they could meet cruelty with cruelty, cunning with cunning. but it was the princes of moscow who proved themselves masters in these oriental arts. their cunning was not of the vulgar sort which works for ends that are near; it was the cunning which could wait, could patiently cringe and feign loyalty and devotion, with the steady purpose of tearing in pieces. added to this, they had the intelligence to divine the secret of power. certain ends they kept steadily in view. the old law of succession to eldest collateral heir they set aside from the outset; the principality being invariably divided among the sons of the deceased prince. then they gradually established the habit of giving to the eldest son moscow, and only insignificant portions to the rest. so _primogeniture_ lay at the root of the policy of the new state--and they had created a dynasty. then their invariable method was by cunning arts to embroil neighboring princes in quarrels, and so to ingratiate themselves with their master the khan, that when they appeared before him at saraï--as they must--for his decision, while one unfortunate prince (unless perchance he was beheaded and did not come away at all) came away without his throne, the faithful prince of moscow returned with a new state added to his territory and a new title to his name! was he not always ready, not only to obey himself, but to enforce the obedience of others? did he not stand ready to march against novgorod, or any proud, refractory state which failed in tribute or homage to his master the khan? no gloomier, no darker chapter is written in history than that which records the transition of russia into _muscovy_. it was rooted in a tragedy, it was nourished by human blood at every step of its growth. it was by base servility to the khans, by perfidy to their peers, by treachery and by prudent but pitiless policy, that moscow rose from obscurity to the supreme headship--and the name of _muscovy_ was attained. there was a line of eight muscovite princes from daniel ( ) to the death of vasili ( ), but they moved as steadily toward one end as if one man had been during those two centuries guiding the policy of the state. the city of moscow was made great. the kremlin was built ( )--not as we see it now. it required many centuries to accumulate all the treasures within that sacred inclosure of walls, crowned by eighteen towers. but with each succeeding reign there arose new buildings, more and more richly adorned by jewels and by byzantine art. then the city became the ecclesiastical center of russia, when the metropolitan, second only to the great patriarch at constantinople, was induced to remove to moscow from vladimir, capital of the grand principality. this was an important advance; for in the train of the great ecclesiastic came splendor of ritual, and wealth and culture and art; and a cathedral and more palaces must be added to the kremlin. in ivan i., the prince of moscow, being the eldest descendant of rurik, fell heir by the old law of succession to the grand principality. so now the prince of moscow was also grand prince of vladimir, or of suzdal, which was the same thing; and as he continued to dwell in his own capital, the grand principality was ruled from moscow. the first act of this grand prince was to claim sovereignty over novgorod. the people were deprived of their vetché and their _posadnik_, while one of his own _boyars_ represented his authority and ruled as their prince. then the compliant khan bestowed upon his faithful vassal the triple crown of vladimir, moscow, and novgorod, to which were soon to be added many others. the next step was to be the setting aside of the old slavonic law of inheritance, and claiming the throne of the grand principality for the oldest son of the last reigning grand prince; making sure at the same time that this prince belonged to the muscovite line. this was not entirely accomplished until , when vasili carried his dispute to the horde for the khan's decision. the other disputant, who was making a desperate stand for his rights under the old system of seniority, was the "presumptuous uncle" already mentioned, who was, it will be remembered, commanded to lead by the bridle the horse of his triumphant muscovite nephew. the sons of the disappointed uncle, however, conspired with success even after that; and finally, in a rage, vasili ordered that the eyes of one of his cousins be put out. but time brings its revenges. ten years later the grand prince, on an evil day, fell into the hands of the remaining cousin,--brother of his victim,--and had his own eyes put out. so he was thereafter known as "vasili the blind." this wily prince kept his oldest son ivan close to him; and, that there might be no doubt about his succession, so familiarized him with his position and placed him so firmly in the saddle that it would not be easy to unseat him when his own death occurred. many things had been happening during these two centuries besides the absorption of the russian principalities by moscow. the ambitious designs of lithuania, in which poland and hungary, and the german knights and latin christianity, were all involved, had been checked, and the disappointed state of lithuania was gravitating toward a union with poland. more important still, the empire of the khan was falling into pieces. the process had been hastened by a tremendous victory obtained by the grand prince dmitri in , on the banks of the don. in the same way that alexander nevski obtained the surname of nevski by the battle on the neva, so dmitri donskoi won his upon the river don. hitherto the tatars had been resisted, but not attacked. it was the first real outburst against the mongol yoke, and it shook the foundations of their authority. then dissensions among themselves, and the struggles of numerous claimants for the throne at saraï broke the golden-horde into five khanates each claiming supremacy. chapter ix passing of byzantium--mongol yoke broken something else had been taking place during these two centuries: something which involved the future, not alone of russia, but of all europe. in , just ten years before daniel established the line of princes in moscow, a little band of marauding turks were encamped upon a plain in asia minor. they were led by an adventurer named etrogruhl. for some service rendered to the ruler of the land etrogruhl received a strip of territory as his reward, and when he died his son othman displayed such ability in increasing his inheritance by absorbing the lands of other people that he became the terror of his neighbors. he had laid the foundation of the ottoman empire and was the first of a line of thirty-five sovereigns, extending down to the present time. it is the descendant of othman and of etrogruhl the adventurer who sits to-day at constantinople blocking the path to the east and defying christendom. these ottoman turks were going to accomplish what russian princes from the time of rurik and oleg had longed and failed to do. they were going to break the power of the old empire in the east and make the coveted city on the bosphorus their own. in , the successor of othman was in constantinople. the pope, always hoping for a reconciliation, and always striving for the headship of a united christendom, had in made fresh overtures to the greek church. the emperor at constantinople, three of the patriarchs, and seventeen of the metropolitans--including the one at moscow--at last signed the act of union. but when the astonished russians heard the prayer for the pope, and saw the latin cross upon their altars, their indignation knew no bounds. the grand prince vasili so overwhelmed the metropolitan with insults that he could not remain in moscow, and the union was abandoned. its wisdom as a political measure cannot be doubted. if the emperor had had the sympathy of the pope, and the championship of catholic europe, the turks might not have entered constantinople in . but they had not that sympathy, and the turks did enter it; and no one event has ever left so lasting an impress upon civilization as the overthrow of the old byzantine empire, and the giving to the winds, to carry whither they would, its hoarded treasures of ancient ideals. byzantium had been the heir to greece, and now russia claimed to be heir to byzantium; while the head of russia was moscow, and the head of moscow was ivan iii., who had just settled himself firmly on the seat left by his father, "vasili the blind" ( ). christendom had never received such a blow. where had been before a rebellious and alienated brother, who might in time be reconciled, there was now--and at the very gate of europe--the infidel turk, the bitterest and most dangerous foe to christianity; bearing the same hated emblem that charles martel had driven back over the pyrenees (in ), and which had enslaved the spanish peninsula for seven hundred years; but, unlike the saracen, bringing barbarism instead of enlightenment in its train. the pope, in despair and grief, turned toward russia. its metropolitan had become a patriarch now, and the headship of the greek church had passed from constantinople to moscow. a niece of the last greek emperor, john paleologus, had taken refuge in rome; and when the pope suggested the marriage of this greek princess zoë with ivan iii., the proposition was joyfully accepted by him. after changing her name from zoë to sophia, and making a triumphal journey through russia, this daughter of the emperors reached moscow and became the bride of ivan iii. moscow had long been the ecclesiastical head of russia; now she was the spiritual head of the church in the east, and her ruling family was joined to that of the caesars. russia had certainly fallen heir to all that was left of the wreck of the empire, and her future sovereigns might trace their lineage back to the roman caesars! moscow, by its natural position, was the distributing center of russian products. the wood from the north, the corn from the fertile lands, and the food from the cattle region all poured into her lap, making her the commercial as well as the spiritual and political center. now there flowed to that favored city another enriching stream. following in the train of ivan's greek wife, were scholars, statesmen, diplomatists, artists. a host of greek emigrants fleeing from the turks, took refuge in moscow, bringing with them books, manuscripts, and priceless treasures rescued from the ruined empire. if this was a period of _renaissance_ for western europe, was it not rather a _naissance_ for russia? what must have been the russian _people_ when her princes were still only barbarians? if ivan valued these things, it was because they had been worn by byzantium, and to him they symbolized power. there was plenty of rough work for him to do yet. there were novgorod and her sister-republic pskof to be wiped out, and sweden and the livonian order on his borders to be looked after, bulgaria and other lands to be absorbed, and last and most important of all, the mongol yoke to be broken. and while he was planning for these he had little time for greek manuscripts; he was introducing the _knout_,[ ] until then a stranger to his slavonic people; he was having princes and _boyars_ and even ecclesiastics whipped and tortured and mutilated; and, it is said, roasted alive two polish gentlemen in an iron cage, for conspiracy. we hear that women fainted at his glance, and _boyars_ trembled while he slept; that instead of "ivan the great" he would be known as "ivan the terrible," had not his grandson ivan iv. so far outshone him. that he had his softer moods we know. for he loved his greek wife, and shed tears copiously over his brother's death, even while he was appropriating all the territory which had belonged to him. and so great was his grief over the death of his only son, that he ordered the physicians who had attended him to be publicly beheaded! the art of healing seems to have been a dangerous calling at that time. a learned german physician, named anthony, in whom ivan placed much confidence, was sent by him to attend a tatar prince who was a visitor at his court. when the prince died after taking a decoction of herbs prepared by the physician, ivan gave him up to the tatar relatives of the deceased, to do with him as they liked. they took him down to the river moskwa under the bridge, where they cut him in pieces like a sheep. ivan iii. was not a warrior prince like his great progenitors at kief. it was even suspected that he lacked personal courage. he rarely led his armies to battle. his greatest triumphs were achieved sitting in his palace in the kremlin; and his weapons were found in a cunning and far-reaching diplomacy. he swept away the system of appanages, and one by one effaced the privileges and the old legal and judicial systems in those principalities which were not yet entirely absorbed. while maintaining an outward respect for mongol authority, and while receiving its friendly aid in his attacks upon novgorod and lithuania, he was carefully laying his plans for open defiance. he cunningly refrained from paying tribute and homage on the pretense that he could not decide which of the five was lawful khan. in an embassy arrived at moscow to collect tribute, bringing as the symbol of their authority an image of the khan akhmet. ivan tore off the mask of friendship. in a fury he trampled the image under his feet and (it is said) put to death all except one whom he sent back with his message to the golden horde. the astonished khan sent word that he would pardon him if he would come to saraï and kiss his stirrup. at last ivan consented to lead his own army to meet that of the enraged khan. the two armies confronted each other on the banks of the oka. then after a pause of several days, suddenly both were seized with a panic and fled. and so in this inglorious fashion in , after three centuries of oppression and insult, russia slipped from under the mongol yoke. there were many mongol invasions after this. many times did they unite with lithuanians and poles and the enemies of russia; many times were they at the gates of moscow, and twice did they burn that city--excepting the kremlin--to the ground. but never again was there homage or tribute paid to the broken and demoralized asiatic power which long lingered about the crimea. there are to-day two millions of nomad mongols encamped about the south-eastern steppes of russia, still living in tents, still raising and herding their flocks, little changed in dress, habits, and character since the days of genghis khan. while this is written a famine is said to be raging among them. this is the last remnant of the great mongol invasion. in ivan marched upon kazan. the city was taken after a siege of seven weeks. the tsar of kazan was a prisoner in moscow and "prince of bulgaria" was added to the titles of ivan iii. [ ] from the word knot. chapter x grand prince becomes tsar vasili, who succeeded ivan iii. in , continued his work on the same lines of absorption and consolidation by unmerciful means. pskof,--the sister republic to novgorod the great,--which had guarded its liberties with the same passionate devotion, was obliged to submit. the bell which had always summoned their _vetché_, and which symbolized their liberty, was carried away. their lament is as famous as that for the moorish city of alhama, when taken by ferdinand of aragon. the poetic annalist says: "alas! glorious city of pskof--why this weeping and lamentation?" pskof replies: "how can i but weep and lament? an eagle with claws like a lion has swooped down upon me. he has captured my beauty, my riches, my children. our land is a desert! our city ruined. our brothers have been carried away to a place where our fathers never dwelt--nor our grandfathers--nor our great-grandfathers!" in the whole tragic story of russia nothing is more pathetic and picturesque than the destruction of the two republics--novgorod and pskof. by the last state had yielded, and the muscovite absorption was complete. there was but one russia; and the head of the consolidated empire called himself not "grand prince of all the russias," but _tsar_. when it is remembered that tsar is only the slavonic form for _caesar_, it will be seen that the dream of the varangian princes had been in an unexpected way realized. the tsar of russia was the successor of the caesars in the east. vasili's method of choosing a wife was like that of ahasuerus. fifteen hundred of the most beautiful maidens of noble birth were assembled at moscow. after careful scrutiny the number was reduced to ten, then to five--from these the final choice was made. his wife's relations formed the court of vasili, became his companions and advisers, _boyars_ vying with each other for the privilege of waiting upon his table or assisting at his toilet. but the office of adviser was a difficult one. to one great lord who in his inexperience ventured to offer counsel, as in the olden time of the _drujina_, he said sharply: "be silent, rustic." while still another, more indiscreet, who had ventured to complain that they were not consulted, was ordered to his bedchamber, and there had his head cut off. the court grew in barbaric and in greek splendor. as the tsar sat upon the throne supported by mechanical lions which roared at intervals, he was guarded by young nobles with high caps of white fur, wearing long caftans of white satin and armed with silver hatchets. greek scholarship was also there. a learned monk and friend of savonarola was translating greek books and arranging for him the priceless volumes in his library. vasili himself was now in correspondence with pope leo x., who was using all his arts to induce him to make friends with catholic poland and join in the most important of all wars--a war upon constantinople, of which he, vasili, the spiritual and temporal heir to the eastern empire, was the natural protector. all this was very splendid. but things were moving with the momentum gained by his father, ivan the great. it was vasili's inheritance, not his reign, that was great. that inheritance he had maintained and increased. he had humiliated the nobility, had developed the movements initiated by his greater father, and had also shown tastes magnificent enough for the heir of his imperial mother, sophia paleologus. but he is overshadowed in history by standing between the two ivans--ivan the great and ivan the terrible. [illustration: the czar iván the terrible and his son iván ivánovitch. from the painting by i. e. répin.] leo x. was soon too much occupied with a new foe to think about designs upon constantinople. a certain monk was nailing a protest upon the door of the church at wittenburg which would tax to the uttermost his energies. as from time to time travelers brought back tales of the splendor of the muscovite court, europe was more than ever afraid of such neighbors. what might these powerful barbarians not do, if they adopted european methods! more stringent measures were enforced. they must not have access to the implements of civilization, and sigismund, king of poland, threatened english merchants on the baltic with death. it is a singular circumstance that although, up to the time of ivan the great, russia had apparently not one thing in common with the states of western europe, they were still subject to the same great tides or tendencies and were moving simultaneously toward identical political conditions. an invisible but compelling hand had been upon every european state, drawing the power from many heads into one. in spain, ferdinand and isabella had brought all the smaller kingdoms and the moors under one united crown. in france, louis xi. had shattered the fabric of feudalism, and by artful alliance with the people had humiliated and subjugated the proud nobility. henry viii. had established absolutism in england, and maximilian had done the same for germany, while even the italian republics, were being gathered into the hands of larger sovereignties. from this distance in time it is easy to see the prevailing direction in which all the nations were being irresistibly drawn. the hour had struck for the tide to flow toward _centralisation_; and russia, remote, cut off from all apparent connection with the western kingdoms, was borne along upon the same tide with the rest, as if it was already a part of the same organism! there, too, the power was passing from the many to one: first from many ruling families to one family, then from all the individual members of that family to a supreme and permanent head--the tsar. there were many revolutions in russia from the time when the dolgorukis turned the life-currents from kief to the north; many centers of volcanic energy in fearful state of activity, and many times when ruin threatened from every side. but in the midst of all this there was one steady process--one end being always approached--a consolidation and a centralization of authority before which european monarchies would pale! the process commenced with the autocratic purposes of andrew bogoliubski. and it was because his _boyars_ instinctively knew that the success of his policy meant their ruin that they assassinated him. in "old russia" a close and fraternal tie bound the prince and his _drujina_ together. it was one family, of which he was the adored head. what characterized the "new russia" was a growing antagonism between the grand prince and his lords or _boyars_. this developed into a life-and-death struggle, similar to that between louis xi. and his nobility. his elevation meant their humiliation. it was a terrible clash of forces--a duel in which one was the instrument of fate, and the other predestined to destruction. it was of less importance during the period between andrew bogoliubski and ivan iv. that mongols were exercising degrading tyranny and making desperate reprisals for defeat--that lithuania and poland, and conspirators everywhere, were by arms and by diplomacy and by treachery trying to ruin the state; all this was of less import than the fact that every vestige of authority was surely passing out of the hands of the nobility into those of the tsar. the fight was a desperate one. it became open and avowed under ivan iii., still more bitter under his son vasili ii., and culminated at last under ivan the terrible, when, like an infuriated animal, he let loose upon them all the pent-up instincts in his blood. chapter xi ivan the terrible--acquisition of siberia in vasili ii. died, leaving the scepter to ivan iv., an infant son three years old. now the humiliated princes and _boyars_ were to have their turn. the mother of ivan iv., helena glinski, was the only obstacle in their way. she speedily died, the victim of poison, and then there was no one to stem the tide of princely and oligarchic reaction against autocracy; and the many years of ivan's minority would give plenty of time to re-establish their lost authority. the _boyars_ took possession of the government. ivan wrote later: "my brother and i were treated like the children of beggars. we were half clothed, cold, and hungry." the _boyars_ in the presence of these children appropriated the luxuries and treasures in the palace and then plundered the people as well, exacting unmerciful fines and treating them like slaves. the only person who loved the neglected ivan was his nurse, and she was torn from him; and for a courtier to pity the forlorn child was sufficient for his downfall. ivan had a superior intelligence. he read much and was keenly observant of all that was happening. he saw himself treated with insolent contempt in private, but with abject servility in public. he also observed that his signature was required to give force to everything that was done, and so discovered that he was the rightful master, that the real power was vested only in him. suddenly, in , he sternly summoned his court to come into his presence, and, ordering the guards to seize the chief offender among his _boyars_, he then and there had him torn to pieces by his hounds. this was a _coup d'état_ by a boy of thirteen! he was content with the banishment of many others, and then ivan iv. peacefully commenced his reign. he seemed a gentle, indolent youth; very confiding in those he trusted; inclined to be a voluptuary, loving pleasure and study and everything better than affairs of state. in he was crowned tsar of russia, and soon thereafter married anastasia of the house of romanoff, whom he devotedly loved. as was the custom, he surrounded himself with his mother's and his wife's relations. so the glinskis and the romanoffs were the envied families in control of the government. his mother's family, the glinskis, were especially unpopular; and when a terrific fire destroyed nearly the whole of moscow it was whispered by jealous _boyars_ that the princess anna glinski had brought this misfortune upon them by enchantments. she had taken human hearts, boiled them in water, and then sprinkled the houses where the fire started! an enraged populace burst into the palace of the glinskis, murdering all they could find. ivan, nervous and impressionable, seems to have been profoundly affected by all this. he yielded to the popular demand and appointed two men to administer the government, spiritual and temporal--adashef, belonging to the smaller nobility, and silvester, a priest. believing absolutely in their fidelity, he then concerned himself very little about affairs of state, and engaged in the completion of the work commenced by ivan iii.--a revision of the old code of laws established by yaroslaf. these were very peaceful and very happy years for russia and for himself. but ivan was stricken with a fever, and while apparently in a dying condition he discovered the treachery of his trusted ministers, that they were shamefully intriguing with his tatar enemies. when he heard their rejoicings that the day of the glinskis and the romanoffs was over, he realized the fate awaiting anastasia and her infant son if he died. he resolved that he would not die. banishment seems a light punishment to have inflicted. it was gentle treatment for treason at the court of moscow. but the poison of suspicion had entered his soul, and was the more surely, because slowly, working a transformation in his character. and when soon thereafter anastasia mysteriously and suddenly died, his whole nature seemed to be undergoing a change. he was passing from ivan the gentle and confiding, into "ivan the terrible." ivan said later, in his own vindication: "when that dog adashef betrayed me, was anyone put to death? did i not show mercy? they say now that i am cruel and irascible; but to whom? i am cruel toward those that are cruel to me. the good! ah, i would give them the robe and the chain that i wear! my subjects would have given me over to the tatars, sold me to my enemies. think of the enormity of the treason! if some were chastised, was it not for their crimes, and are they not my slaves--and shall i not do what i will with mine own?" his grievances were real. his _boyars_ were desperate and determined, and even with their foreheads in the dust were conspiring against him. they were no less terrible than he toward their inferiors. there never could be anything but anarchy in russia so long as this aristocracy of cruel slave-masters existed. ivan (like louis xi.) was girding himself for the destruction of the power of his nobility, and, as one conspiracy after another was revealed, faster and faster flowed the torrent of his rage. in he devoutly asked the prayers of the church for of his victims, of whom he mentioned by name; many of these being followed by the sinister addition: "with his wife and children"; "with his sons"; "with his daughters." a gentle, kindly prince had been converted into a monster of cruelty, who is called, by the historians of his own country, the nero of russia. he was a pious prince, like all of the muscovite line. not one of his subjects was more faithful in religious observances than was this "torch of orthodoxy"--who frequently called up his household in the middle of the night for prayers. added to the above pious petition for mercy to his victims, is this reference to novgorod: "remember, lord, the souls of thy servants to the number of persons--novgorodians, whose names, almighty, thou knowest." that republic had made its last break for liberty. under the leadership of marfa, the widow of a wealthy and powerful noble, it had thrown itself in despair into the arms of catholic poland. this was treason to the tsar and to the church, and its punishment was awful. the desperate woman who had instigated the act was carried in chains to moscow, there to behold her two sons with the rest of the conspirators beheaded. the bell which for centuries had summoned her citizens to the _vetché_, that sacred symbol of the liberty of the republic, is now in the museum at moscow. if its tongue should speak, if its clarion call should ring out once more, perhaps there might come from the shades a countless host of her martyred dead--"whose names, almighty, thou knowest." ivan then proceeded to wreck the prosperity of the richest commercial city in his empire. its trade was enormous with the east and the west. it had joined the hanseatic league, and its wealth was largely due to the german merchants who had flocked there. with singular lack of wisdom, the tsar had confiscated the property of these men, and now the ruin of the city was complete. while germany, and poland, and sweden,--resolved to shut up russia in her barbaric isolation,--were locking the front door on the baltic and the gulf, england had found a side door by which to enter. with great satisfaction ivan saw english traders coming in by way of the white sea, and he extended the rough hand of his friendship to queen elizabeth, who made with him a commercial treaty, which was countersigned by francis bacon. then, as his friendship warmed, he proposed that they should sign a reciprocal engagement to furnish each other with an asylum in the event of the rebellion of their subjects. elizabeth declined the asylum he kindly offered her, "finding, by the grace of god, no dangers of the sort in her kingdom." then he did her the honor to offer an alliance of a different kind. he proposed that she should send him her cousin lady mary hastings to take the place left vacant by his eighth wife--to become his tsaritsa. the proposition was considered, but when the english maiden heard about his brutalities and about his seven wives, so terrified was she that she refused to leave england, and the affair had to be abandoned. elizabeth's rejection of his proposals, and also of his plan for an alliance offensive and defensive against poland and sweden, so infuriated ivan that he confiscated the goods of the english merchants, and this friendship was temporarily ruptured. but amicable relations were soon restored between elizabeth and her barbarian admirer. if she had heard of his awful vengeance in , she had also heard of the massacre of st. bartholomew in paris in ! russia had now opened diplomatic relations with the western kingdoms. the foreign ambassadors were received with great pomp in a sumptuous hall hung with tapestries and blazing with gold and silver. the tsar, with crown and scepter, sat upon his throne, supported by the roaring lions, and carefully studied the new ambassador as he suavely asked him about his master. a police inspector from that moment never lost sight of him, making sure that he obtained no interviews with the natives nor information about the state of the country. although the tsar was reputed to be learned and was probably the most learned man in his nation, and had always about him a coterie of distinguished scholars, still there was no intellectual life in russia, and owing to the oriental seclusion of the women there was no society. the men were heavily bearded, and the ideal of beauty with the women, as they looked furtively out from behind veils and curtains, was to be fat, with red, white, and black paint laid on like a mask. it must have been a dreary post for gay european diplomats, and in marked contrast to gay, witty, gallant poland, at that time thoroughly europeanized. next to the consolidation of the imperial authority, the event in this reign most affecting the future of russia was the acquisition of siberia. a cossack brigand under sentence of death escaped with his followers into the land beyond the urals, and conquered a part of the territory, then returned and offered it to ivan ( ) in exchange for a pardon. the incident is the subject of a _bilina_, a form of historical poem, in which yermak says: "i am the robber hetman of the don. and now--oh--orthodox tsar, i bring you my traitorous head, and with it i bring the empire of siberia! and the orthodox tsar will speak-- he will speak--the terrible ivan, ha! thou art yermak, the hetman of the don, i pardon thee and thy band, i pardon thee for thy trusty service-- and i give to the cossack the glorious and gentle don as an inheritance." the two ivans had created a new code of laws, and now there was an ample prison-house for its transgressors! the penal code was frightful. an insolvent debtor was tied up half naked in a public place and beaten three hours a day for thirty or forty days, and then, if no one came to his rescue, with his wife and his children he was sold as a slave. but siberia was to be the prison-house of a more serious class of offenders for whom this punishment would be insufficient. it was to serve as a vast penal colony for crimes against the state. since the beginning of the nineteenth century it is said one million political exiles have been sent there, and they continue to go at the rate of twenty thousand a year; showing how useful a present was made by the robber yermak to the "orthodox tsar"! this reign, like that of louis xi. of france, which it much resembled, enlarged the privileges of the people in order to aid ivan in his conflict with his nobility. for this purpose a _sobor_, or states-general, was summoned by him, and met at long intervals thereafter until the time of peter the first. of the two sons left to ivan by his wife anastasia, only one now remained. in a paroxysm of rage he had struck the tsarevitch with his iron staff. he did not intend to kill him, but the blow was mortal. great and fierce was the sorrow of the tsar when he found he had slain his beloved son--the one thing he loved upon earth, and there remained to inherit the fruit of his labors and his crimes only another child (feodor) enfeebled in body and mind, and an infant (dmitri), the son of his seventh wife. his death, hastened by grief, took place three years later, in . chapter xii serfdom created--the first romanoff occasionally there arises a man in history who, without distinction of birth or other advantages, is strong enough by sheer ability to grasp the opportunity, vault into power, and then stem the tide of events. such a man was godwin, father of harold, last saxon king; in england; and such a man was boris godunof, a _boyar_, who had so faithfully served the terrible ivan that he leaned upon him and at last confided to him the supervision of his feeble son feodor, when he should succeed him. the plans of this ambitious usurper were probably laid from the time of the tragic death of ivan's son, the tsarevitch. he brought about the marriage of his beautiful sister irene with feodor, and from the hour of ivan's death was virtual ruler. dmitri, the infant son of the late tsar, aged five years, was prudently placed at a distance--and soon thereafter mysteriously died ( ). there can be no doubt that the unexplained tragedy of this child's death was perfectly understood by boris; and when feodor also died, seven years later ( ), there was not one of the old muscovite line to succeed to the throne. but so wise had been the administration of affairs by the astute regent that a change was dreaded. a council offered him the crown, which he feigned a reluctance to accept, preferring that the invitation should come from a source which would admit of no question as to his rights in the future. accordingly, the states-general or _sobor_ was convened, and boris godunof was chosen by acclamation. the work of three reigns was undone. a _boyar_ was tsar of russia--and a _boyar_ not in the line of rurik and with tatar blood in his veins! but this bold and unscrupulous man had performed a service to the state. the work of the muscovite princes was finished, and the extinction of the line was the next necessary event in the path of progress. boris had large and comprehensive views and proceeded upon new lines of policy to reconstruct the state. he saw that russia must be europeanized, and he also saw that at least one radical change in her internal policy might be used to insure his popularity with the princes and nobles. the russian peasantry was an enormous force which was not utilized to its fullest extent. it included almost the entire rural population of russia. the peasant was legally a freeman. he lived unchanged under the old slavonic patriarchal system of _mirs_, or communes, and _volosts_. these were the largest political organizations of which he had personal cognizance. he knew nothing about muscovite consolidation, nor oligarchy, nor autocracy. no crumbs from the modern banquet had fallen into his lap. with a thin veneer of orthodoxy over their paganism and superstition the people listened in childish wonder to the same old tales--they lived their old primitive life of toil under the same system of simple fair-dealing and justice. if their commune owned the land it tilled, they all shared the benefit of the harvests, paid their tax to the state, and all was well. if not, it swarmed like a community of bees to some wealthy neighbor's estate and sold its labor to him, and then if he proved too hard a taskmaster--even for a patient russian peasant--they might swarm again and work for another. the tie binding them to special localities was only the very slightest. there were no mountains to love, one part of the monotonous plateau was about like another; and as for their homes, their wooden huts were burned down so often there were no memories attached to them. the result of this was that the peasantry--that immense force upon which the state at last depended--was not stable and permanent, but fluid. at the slightest invitation of better wages, or better soil or conditions, whole communities might desert a locality--would gather up their goods and walk off. boris, while regent, conceived the idea of correcting this evil, in a way which would at the same time make him a very popular ruler with the class whose support he most needed, the princes and the landowners. he would chain the peasant to the soil. a decree was issued that henceforth the peasant must not go from one estate to another. he belonged to the land he was tilling, as the trees that grew on it belonged to it, and the master of that land was his master for evermore! such, in brief outline, was the system of serfdom which prevailed until . it was in theory, though not practically, unlike the institution of american slavery. the people, still living in their communes, still clung to the figment of their freedom, not really understanding that they were slaves, but feeling rather that they were freemen whose sacred rights had been cruelly invaded. that they were giving to hard masters the fruit of their toil on their own lands. now that russia was becoming a modern state, it required more money to govern her. civilization is costly, and the revenues must not be fluctuating. boris saw they could only be made sure by attaching to the soil the peasant, whose labor was at the foundation of the prosperity of the state. it was the peasant who bore the weight of an expanded civilization which he did not share! the visitor at moscow to-day may see in the kremlin a wonderful tower, feet high, which was erected in honor of ivan the great by the usurper boris; but the monument which keeps his memory alive is the more stupendous one of--serfdom. the expected increase in prosperity from the new system did not immediately come. the revenues were less than before. bands of fugitive serfs were fleeing from their masters and joining the community of free cossacks on the don. lands were untilled, there was misery, and at last there was famine, and then discontent and demoralization extending to the upper classes, and a diminished income which finally bore upon the tsar himself. suddenly there came a rumor that dmitri, the infant son of ivan the terrible, was not dead! he was living in poland, and with incontestable proofs of his identity was coming to claim his own. in he crossed the frontier, and thousands of discontented people flocked to his standard with wild enthusiasm. boris had died just before dmitri reached moscow. he entered the city, and the infatuated people placed in his hand and upon his head the scepter and the crown of ivan iv.; and after making sure that the wife and the son of boris godunof were strangled, this amazing pretender commenced his reign. an extraordinary thing had happened. a nameless adventurer and impostor had been received with tears of joy as the son of ivan and of st. vladimir, the seventh wife of ivan the terrible even recognizing and embracing him as her son! but dmitri had not the wisdom to keep what his cunning had won. his polish wife came, followed by a suite of polish catholics, who began to carry things with a high hand. the clergy was offended and soon enraged. in five years dmitri was assassinated, and his mutilated corpse was lying in the palace at the kremlin, an object of insult and derision; and then, for russia there came another chaos. for a brief period vasili shuiski, head of one of the princely families, reigned, while two more "false dmitris" appeared, one from sweden and the other from poland. the cause of the latter was upheld by the king of poland, with the ulterior purpose of bringing the disordered state of russia under the polish crown, and making one great slav kingdom with its center at cracow. so disorganized had the state become that some of the princes had actually opened negotiations with sigismund with a view to offering the crown to his son. but when sigismund with an invading army was in moscow ( ), and when vasili shuiski was a prisoner in poland, and a polish prince was claiming the title of tsar, there came an awakening--not among the nobility, but deep down in the heart of orthodox russia. from this awakening of a dormant national sentiment and of the religious instincts of the people there developed that event,--the most health-restoring which can come to the life of a nation,--a national uprising in which all classes unite in averting a common disaster. what disaster could be for russia more terrible than an absorption into catholic poland? the polish intruders and pretenders were driven out, and then a great national assembly gathered at moscow ( ) to elect a tsar. the name of romanoff was unstained by crime, and was by maternal ancestry allied to the royal race of rurik. the newly awakened patriotism turned instinctively toward that, as the highest expression of their hopes; and mikhail romanoff, a youth of , was elected tsar. it was in that anastasia, of the house of romanoff, had married ivan iv. at about the same time her brother was married to a princess of suzdal, a descendant of the brother of alexander nevski. this princess was the grandmother of mikhail romanoff, and the source from which has sprung the present ruling house in russia. chapter xiii nikon's attempt--raskolniks in the building of an empire there are two processes--the building up, and the tearing down. the plow is no less essential than the trowel. the period after boris had been for russia the period of the wholesome plow. the harvest was far off. but the name romanoff was going to stand for another russia, not like the old russia of kief, nor yet the new russia of moscow; but another and a europeanized russia, in which, after long struggles, the slavonic and half-asiatic giant was going to tear down the walls of separation, escape from his barbarism, and compel europe to share with him her civilization. the man who was to make the first breach in the walls was the grandson of mikhail romanoff--peter, known as "the great." but the mills of the gods grind slowly--especially when they have a great work in hand; and there were to be three colorless reigns before the coming of the liberator in --seventy-six years before they would learn that to have a savage despot seated on a barbaric throne, with crown and robes incrusted with jewels, and terrorizing a brutish, ignorant, and barbaric people--was not to be great. the reigns of mikhail and of his son alexis and his grandson feodor were to be reigns of preparation and reform. of course there were turbulent uprisings and foreign wars, and perils on the frontiers near the baltic and the black seas. but russia was gaining in ascendency while poland, from whom she had narrowly escaped, was fast declining. the european rulers began to see advantages for themselves from russian alliances. gustavus adolphus, king of sweden and champion of protestantism, made an eloquent appeal to the tsar to join him against catholic poland--"was not the romish church their common enemy?--and were they not neighbors?--and when your neighbor's house is afire, is it not the part of wisdom and prudence to help to put it out?" poland suffered a serious blow when a large body of cossacks, who were her vassals, and her chief arm of defense in the southeast, in transferred themselves bodily to russia. the cossacks were a slavonic people, with no doubt a plentiful infusion of asiatic blood, and their name in the tatar language meant freebooters. they had long dwelt about the don and the dnieper, in what is known as little russia, a free and rugged community which was recruited by russians after the tatar invasion and polish conquest, by oppressed peasants after the creation of serfdom, and by adventurers and fugitives from justice at all times. it was a military organization, and its constitution was a pure democracy. freedom and independence were their first necessity. their hetman, or chief, held office for one year only, and anyone might attain to that position. their horsemanship was unrivaled--they were fearless and enduring, and stood ready to sell their services to the khan of tatary, the king of poland, or to the tsar of russia. in fact, they were the northmen of the south and east, and are now--the rough-riders of russia. they had long ago divided into two bands, the "cossacks of the dnieper," loosely bound to poland, and the "cossacks of the don," owning the sovereignty of russia. the services of these fearless adventurers were invaluable as a protection from turks and tatars; and, as we have seen in the matter of siberia, they sometimes brought back prizes which offset their misdoings. the king of poland unwisely attempted to proselyte his cossacks of the dnieper, sent jesuit missionaries among them, and then concluded to break their spirit by severities and make of them obedient loyal catholic subjects. he might as well have tried to chain the winds. they offered to the tsar their allegiance in return for his protection, and in all of the cossacks, of the dnieper as well as the don, were gathered under russian sovereignty. it was this event which, in the long struggle with poland, turned the scales at last in favor of russia. one of the most important occurrences in this reign was the attempt of the patriarch nikon to establish an authority in the east similar to that of the pope in the west--and in many ways to latinize the church. this attempt to place the tsar under spiritual authority was put down by a popular revolt--followed by stricter orthodox methods in a sect known as the _raskolniks_. mikhail died in , and was succeeded by his son alexis. the new tsar sent an envoy to charles the first of england to announce his succession. he arrived with his letter to the king at an inopportune time. he was on trial for his life. the russian could not comprehend such a condition, and haughtily refused to treat with anyone but the king. he was received with much ceremony by the house of lords, and then to their consternation arose and said: "i have come from my sovereign charged with an important message to your king--charles the first. it is long since i came, and i have not been permitted to see him nor to deliver the letter from my master." the embarrassed english _boyars_ replied that they would give their reasons for this by letter. when the tsar was informed by charles ii. of the execution of his father, sternly inflicted by his people, he could not comprehend such a condition. he at once forbade english merchants to live in any of his cities except archangel, and sent money and presents to the exiled son. an interest attaches to the marriage of alexis with natalia, his second wife. he was dining with one of his _boyars_ and was attracted by a young girl, who was serving him. she was motherless, and had been adopted by her uncle the _boyar_. the tsar said to his friend soon after: "i have found a husband for your natalia." the husband was alexis himself, and natalia became the mother of peter the great. she was the first princess who ever drew aside the curtains of her litter and permitted the people to look upon her face. thrown much into the society of europeans in her uncle's home, she was imbued with european ideas. it was no doubt she who first instilled the leaven of reform into the mind of her infant son peter. one of the most important features of this reign was the development of the fanatical sect known as _raskolniks_. they are the dissenters or non-conformists of russia. their existence dates from the time of the patriarch _nikon_--and what they considered his sacrilegious innovations. but as early as there were the first stirrings of this movement when some daring and advanced innovators began to sing "o lord, have mercy," instead of "lord, have mercy," and to say "alleluia" twice instead of three times, to the peril of their souls! but it was in the reign of alexis that signs of falling away from the faith spoken of in the apocalypse were unmistakable. foreign heretics who shaved their chins and smoked the accursed weed were tolerated in holy moscow. "the number of the beast" indicated the year . it was evident that the end of the world was at hand! such was the beginning of the _raskolniks_, who now number , , souls--a conservative slavonic element which has been a difficult one to deal with. upon the death of alexis, in , his eldest son feodor succeeded him. it is only necessary to mention one significant act in his short reign--the destruction of the books of pedigrees. the question of precedence among the great families was the source of endless disputes, and no man would accept a position inferior to any held by his ancestors, nor would serve under a man with an ancestry inferior to his own. feodor asked that the books of pedigrees be sent to him for examination, and then had them every one thrown into the fire and burned. this must have been his last act, for his death and this holocaust of ancestral claims both occurred in the year . chapter xiv peter studies european civilization a history of russia _naïvely_ designates one of its chapters "the period of troubles"! when was there not a period of troubles in this land? the historian wearies, and doubtless the reader too, of such prolonged disorder and calamity. but a chapter telling of peace and tranquillity would have to be invented. the particular sort of trouble that developed upon the death of feodor was of a new variety. alexis had left two families of children, one by his first wife and the other by natalia. there is not time to tell of all the steps by which sophia, daughter of the first marriage, came to be the power behind the throne upon which sat her feeble brother ivan, and her half-brother peter, aged ten years. sophia was an ambitious, strong-willed, strong-minded woman, who dared to emancipate herself from the tyranny of russian custom. the _terem_, of which we hear so much, was the part of the palace sacred to the tsaritsa and the princesses--upon whose faces no man ever looked. if a physician were needed he might feel the pulse and the temperature through a piece of gauze--but see the face never. it is said that two nobles who one day accidentally met natalia coming from her chapel were deprived of rank in consequence. but the _terem_, with "its twenty-seven locks," was not going to confine the sister of peter. she met the eyes of men in public; studied them well, too; and then selected the instruments for her designs of effacing peter and his mother, and herself becoming sovereign indeed. a rumor was circulated that the imbecile ivan (who was alive) had been strangled by natalia's family. in the tumult which followed one of her brothers, peter's uncle, was torn from natalia's arms and cut to pieces. but this was only one small incident in the horrid tragedy. then, after discovering that the prince was not dead, the bloodstains in the palace were washed up, and the two brothers were placed upon the throne under the regency of sophia. but while she was outraging the feelings of the people by her contempt for ancient customs, and while her friendship with her minister, prince galitsuin, was becoming a public scandal, sophia was at the same time being defeated in a campaign against the turks at the crimea; and her popularity was gone. in the meantime peter was growing. with no training, no education, he was in his own disorderly, undisciplined fashion struggling up into manhood under the tutelage of a quick, strong intelligence, a hungry desire to know, and a hot, imperious temper. his first toys were drums and swords, and he first studied history from colored german prints; and as he grew older never wearied of reading about ivan the terrible. his delight was to go out upon the streets of moscow and pick up strange bits of information from foreign adventurers about the habits and customs of their countries. he played at soldiers with his boy companions, and after finding how they did such things in germany and in england, drilled his troops after the european fashion. but it was when he first saw a boat so built that it could go with or against the wind, that his strongest instinct was awakened. he would not rest until he had learned how to make and then to manage it. when this strange, passionate, self-willed boy was seventeen years old, he realized that his sister was scheming for the ruin of himself and his mother. in the rupture that followed, the people deserted sophia and flocked about peter. he placed his sister in a monastery, where, after fifteen years of fruitless intrigue and conspiracy, she was to die. then, conjointly with his unfortunate brother, he commenced his reign ( ). if sophia had freed herself from the customary seclusion of princesses, peter emancipated himself from the usual proprieties of the palace. both were scandalous. one had harangued soldiers and walked with her veil lifted, the other was swinging an ax like a carpenter, rowing like a cossack, or fighting mimic battles with his grooms, who not infrequently knocked him down. in he gratified one great thirst and longing. with a large suite he went up to archangel--and for the first time a tsar looked out upon the sea! he ate and drank with the foreign merchants, and took deep draughts of the stimulating air from the west. he established a dock-yard, and while his first ship was building made perilous trips upon that unknown ocean from which russia had all its life been shut out! his ship was the first to bear a russian flag into foreign waters, and now peter had taken the first step toward learning how to build a navy, but he had no place yet to use one. so he turned his nimble activities toward the black sea. he had only to capture azof in the crimea from the turks, and he would have a sea for his navy--and then might easily make the navy for his sea! so he went down, carrying his soldiers and his new european tactics--in which no one believed--gathered up his cossacks, and the attack was made, first with utter failure--all on account of the new tactics--and then at last came overwhelming success; and a triumphant return ( ) to moscow under arches and garlands of flowers. three thousand russian families were sent to colonize azof, which was guarded by some regiments of the _streltsui_ and by cossacks--and now there must be a navy. there must be nine ships of the line, and twenty frigates carrying fifty guns, and bombships, and fireships. that would require a great deal of money. it was then that the utility of the system of serfdom became apparent. the prelates and monasteries were taxed--_one vessel to every eighty thousand serfs_!--according to their wealth all the orders of nobility to bear their portion in the same way, and the peasants toiled on, never dreaming that _they_ were building a great navy for the great tsar. peter then sent fifty young nobles of the court to venice, england, and the netherlands to learn the arts of shipbuilding and seamanship and gunnery. but how could he be sure of the knowledge and the science of these idle youths--unless he himself owned it and knew better than they? the time had come for his long-indulged dream of visiting the western kingdoms. but while there were rejoicings at the victory over the turks, there was a feeling of universal disgust at the new order of things; with the militia (the _streltsui_) because foreigners were preferred to them and because they were subjected to an unaccustomed discipline; with the nobles because their children were sent into foreign lands among heretics to learn trades like mechanics; and with the landowners and clergy because the cost of equipping a great fleet fell upon them. all classes were ripe for a revolt. sophia, from her cloister, was in correspondence with her agents, and a conspiracy ripened to overthrow peter and his reforms. as the tsar was one evening sitting down to an entertainment with a large party of ladies and gentlemen, word was brought that someone desired to see him privately upon an important matter. he promptly excused himself and was taken in a sledge to the appointed place. there he graciously sat down to supper with a number of gentlemen, as if perfectly ignorant of their plans. suddenly his guard arrived, entered the house, and arrested the entire party, after which peter returned in the best of humor to his interrupted banquet, quite as if nothing had happened. the next day the prisoners under torture revealed the plot to assassinate him and then lay it to the foreigners, this to be followed, by a general massacre of europeans--men, women, and children. the ringleaders were first dismembered, then beheaded--their legs and arms being displayed in conspicuous places in the city, and the rest of the conspirators, excepting his sister sophia, were sent to siberia. with this parting and salutary lesson to his subjects in , peter started upon his strange travels--in quest of the arts of civilization! the embassy was composed of persons. among them was a young man twenty-five years old, calling himself peter mikhailof, who a few weeks later might have been seen at saardam in holland, in complete outfit of workman's clothes, in dust and by the sweat of his brow learning the art of ship-carpentry. such was the first introduction to europe of the tsar of russia! they had long heard of this autocrat before whom millions trembled, ruling like a savage despot in the midst of splendors rivaling the arabian nights. now they saw him! and the amazement can scarcely be described. he dined with the great electress sophia, afterwards first queen of prussia, and she wrote of him: "nature has given him an infinity of wit. with advantages he might have been an accomplished man. what a pity his manners are not less boorish!" but peter was not thinking of the impression he made. with an insatiable inquisitiveness and an omnivorous curiosity, he was looking for the secret of power in nations. nothing escaped him--cutlery, rope-making, paper manufacture, whaling industry, surgery, microscopy; he was engaging artists, officers, engineers, surgeons, buying models of everything he saw--or standing lost in admiration of a traveling dentist plying his craft in the market, whom he took home to his lodgings, learned the use of the instruments himself, then practiced his new art upon his followers. at the hague he endured the splendid public reception, then hurried off his gold-trimmed coat, his wig and hat and white feathers, and was amid grime and dust examining grist-mills, and ferry-boats, and irrigating machines. to a lady he saw on the street at amsterdam he shouted "stop!" then dragged out her enameled watch, examined it, and put it back without a word. a nobleman's wig in similar unceremonious fashion he snatched from his head, turned it inside out, and, not being pleased with its make, threw it on the floor. perhaps holland heard without regret that her guest was going to england, where he was told the instruction was based upon the principles of ship-building and he might learn more in a few weeks than by a year's study elsewhere. king william iii. placed a fleet at his disposal, and also a palace upon his arrival in london. a violent storm alarmed many on the way to england, but peter enjoyed it and humorously said, "did you ever hear of a tsar being lost in the north sea?" england was no less astonished than holland at her guest, but william iii., the wisest sovereign in europe, we learn was amazed at the vigor and originality of his mind. the wise bishop burnet wrote of him: "he is mechanically turned, and more fitted to be a carpenter than a prince. he told me he designed a great fleet for attacking the turkish empire, but he does not seem to me capable of so great an enterprise." this throws more light upon the limitations of bishop burnet than those of peter the great, and fairly illustrates the incompetency of contemporary estimates of genius; or, perhaps, the inability of talent to take the full measure of genius at any time. the good bishop adds that he adores the wise providence which "has raised up such a furious man to reign over such a part of the world." louis xiv. "had procured the postponement of the honor of his visit"; so peter prepared, after visiting vienna, to go to venice, but receiving disturbing news of matters at home, this uncivilized civilizer, this barbarian reformer of barbarism, turned his face toward moscow. there was widespread dissatisfaction in the empire. the _streltsui_ (militia) was rebellious, the heavily taxed landowners were angry, and the people disgusted by the prevalence of german clothes and shaved faces. had not the wise ivan iv. said: "to shave is a sin that the blood of all the martyrs could not cleanse"! and who had ever before seen a tsar of moscow quit holy russia to wander in foreign lands among turks and germans? for both were alike to them. then it was rumored that peter had gone in disguise to stockholm, and that the queen of sweden had put him into a cask lined with nails to throw him into the sea, and he had only been saved by one of his guards taking his place; and some years later many still believed that it was a false tsar who returned to them in --that the true tsar was still a prisoner at stockholm, attached to a post. sophia wrote to the _streltsui_--"you suffer--but you will suffer more. why do you wait? march on moscow. there is no news of the tsar." the army was told that he was dead, and that the _boyars_ were scheming to kill his infant son alexis and then get into power again. thousands of revolted troops from azof began to pour into moscow, then there was a rumor that the foreigners and the germans--who were introducing the smoking of tobacco and shaving, to the utter destruction of the holy faith--were planning to seize the town. peter returned to find moscow the prey to wild disorder, in the hands of scheming revolutionists and mutineers. he concluded it was the right time to give a lesson which would never be forgotten. he would make the partisans of old russia feel the weight of his hand in a way that would remind them of ivan iv. on the day of his return the nobles all presented themselves, laying their faces, as was the custom, in the dust. after courteously returning their salutations, peter ordered that every one of them be immediately shaved; and as this was one of the arts he had practiced while abroad he initiated the process by skillfully applying the razor himself to a few of the long-beards. then the inquiry into the rebellion commenced. the patriarch tried to appease the wrath of the tsar, who answered; "know that i venerate god and his mother as much as you do. but also know that i shall protect my people and punish rebels." the "chastisement" was worthy of ivan the terrible. the details of its infliction are too dreadful to relate, and we read with incredulous horror that "the terrible carpenter of saardam plied his own ax in the horrible employment"--and that on the last day peter himself put to death eighty-four of the _streltsui_, "compelling his _boyars_ to assist"--in inflicting this "chastisement!" chapter xv charles xii.--narva--st. petersburg the baltic was at this time a swedish sea. finland, livonia, and all the territory on the eastern coast, where once the russians and the german knights had struggled, was now under the sovereignty of an inexperienced young king who had just ascended the throne of his father charles xi., king of sweden. if peter ever "opened a window" into the west, it must be done by first breaking through this swedish wall. livonia was deeply aggrieved just now because of some oppressive measures against her, and her astute minister, patkul, suggested to the king of poland that he form a coalition between that kingdom, denmark, and russia for the purpose of breaking the aggressive scandinavian power in the north. the time was favorable, with disturbed conditions in sweden, and a youth of eighteen without experience upon the throne. the tsar, who had recently returned from abroad and had settled matters with his _streltsui_ in moscow, saw in this enterprise just the opportunity he desired, and joined the coalition. at the battle of narva ( ) there were two surprises: one when peter found that he knew almost nothing about the art of warfare, and the other when it was revealed to charles xii. that he was a military genius and his natural vocation was that of a conqueror. but if charles was intoxicated by his enormous success, peter accepted his humiliating defeat almost gratefully as a harsh lesson in military art. the sacrifice of men had been terrible, but the lesson was not lost. the next year there were small russian victories, and these crept nearer and nearer to the baltic, until at last the river upon which the great nevski won his surname was reached--and the neva was his! peter lost no time. he personally superintended the building of a fort and then a church which were to be the nucleus of a city; and there may be seen in st. petersburg to-day the little hut in which lived the tsar while he was founding the capital which bears his name ( ). no wonder it seemed a wild project to build the capital of an empire, not only on its frontier, but upon low marshy ground subject to the encroachments of the sea from which it had only half emerged; and in a latitude where for two months of the year the twilight and the dawn meet and there is no night, and where for two other months the sun rises after nine in the morning and sets before three. not only must he build a city, but create the dry land for it to stand upon; and it is said that six hundred acres have been reclaimed from the sea at st. petersburg since it was founded. charles xii. was too much occupied to care for these insignificant events. he sent word that when he had time he would come and burn down peter's wooden town. he was leading a victorious army toward poland, he had beheaded the traitorous patkul, and everything was bowing before him. the great marlborough was suing for his aid in the coalition against louis xiv. in the war of the spanish succession. flushed with victory, charles felt that the fate of europe was lying in his hands. he had only to decide in which direction to move--whether to help to curb the ambition of the grand monarque in the west, or to carry out his first design of crushing the rising power of the great autocrat in the east. he preferred the latter. the question then arose whether to enter russia by the north or by way of poland, where he was now master. the scale was turned probably by learning that the cossacks in little russia were growing impatient and were ripe for rebellion against the tsar. peter was anxious to prevent the invasion. he had a wholesome admiration for the terrible swedish army, not much confidence in his own, and his empire was in disorder. he sent word to charles that he would be satisfied to withdraw from the west if he could have one port on the baltic. the king's haughty reply was: "tell your tsar i will treat with him in moscow," to which peter rejoined: "my brother charles wants to play the part of an alexander, but he will not find in me a darius." it is possible that upon ivan mazeppa, who was chief or hetman of the cossacks at this time, rests the responsibility of the crushing defeat which terminated the brilliant career of charles xii. mazeppa was the polish gentleman whose punishment at the hands of an infuriated husband has been the subject of poems by lord byron and pushkin, and also of a painting by horace vernet. this picturesque traitor, who always rose upon the necks of the people who trusted him, whose friendships he one after another invariably betrayed, reached a final climax of infamy by offering to sacrifice the tsar, the friend who believed in him so absolutely that he sent into exile or to death anyone who questioned his fidelity. mazeppa had been with peter at azof, and abundant honors were waiting for him; but he was dazzled by the career of the swedish conqueror, and believed he might rise higher under charles xii. than under his rough, imperious master at moscow. so he wrote the king that he might rely upon him to join him with , cossacks in little russia. he thought it would be an easy matter to turn the irritated cossacks from the tsar. they were restive under the severity of the new military _régime_, and also smarting under a decree forbidding them to receive any more fugitive peasants fleeing from serfdom. but he had miscalculated their lack of fidelity and his own power over them. it was this fatal promise, which was never to be kept, that probably lured charles to his ruin. after a long and disastrous campaign he met his final crushing defeat at poltova in . the king and mazeppa, companions in flight, together entered the sultan's dominions as fugitives, and of the army before which a short time ago europe had trembled--there was left not one battalion. the baltic was passing into new hands. "the window" opening upon the west was to become a door, and the key of the door was to be kept upon the side toward russia! sweden, which under gustavus adolphus, charles xi., and charles xii. had played such a glorious part, was never to do it again; and the place she had left vacant was to be filled by a new and greater power. russia had dispelled the awakened dream of a great scandinavian empire and--so long excluded and humiliated--was going to make a triumphal entry into the family of european nations. the tsar, with his innovations and reforms, was vindicated. for breadth of design and statesmanship there was not one sovereign in the coalition who could compare with this man who, bishop burnet thought, was better fitted for a mechanic than a prince--and "incapable of a great enterprise." of charles xii. it has been said that "he was a hero of the scandinavian edda set down in the wrong century," and again that he was the last of the vikings, and of the varangian princes. but mazeppa said of him, when dying in exile: "how could i have been seduced in my old age by a military vagabond!" ivan, peter's infirm brother and associate upon the throne, had died in . another oppressive tie had also been severed. he had married at seventeen eudoxia, belonging to a proud conservative russian family. he had never loved her, and when she scornfully opposed his policy of reform, she became an object of intense aversion. after his triumph at azof, he sent orders that the tsaritsa must not be at the palace upon his return, and soon thereafter she was separated from her child alexis, placed in a monastery, and finally divorced. at the surrender of marienburg in livonia ( ) there was among the captives the family of a lutheran pastor named glück. catherine, a young girl of sixteen, a servant in the family, had just married a swedish soldier, who was killed the following day in battle. we would have to look far for a more romantic story than that of this protestant waiting-maid. menschikof, peter's great general, was attracted by her beauty and took the young girl under his protection. but when the tsar was also fascinated by her artless simplicity, she was transferred to his more distinguished protection. little did catherine think when weeping for her swedish lover in pastor glück's kitchen that she was on her way to the throne of russia. but such was her destiny. she did not know how to write her name, but she knew something which served her better. she knew how to establish an influence possessed by no one else over the strange husband to whom in she was secretly married. chapter xvi russia knouted into civilization--peter dead while peter was absorbing more territory on the baltic, and while he was with frenzied haste building his new city, charles xii. was still hiding in poland. the turks were burning with desire to recapture azof, and the khan of tartary had his own revenges and reprisals at heart urging him on; so, at the instigation of charles and the khan, the sultan declared war against russia in . it seemed to the russian people like a revival of their ancient glories when their tsar, with a great army, was following in the footsteps of the grand princes to free the slav race from its old infidel enemies. catherine, from whom peter would not be separated, was to be his companion in the campaign. but the enterprise, so fascinating in prospect, was attended with unexpected disaster and suffering; and the climax was finally reached when peter was lying ill in his tent, with an army of only , men about to face one of over , --tatars and turks--commanded by skilled generals, adherents of charles xii. this was probably the darkest hour in peter's career. the work of his life was about to be overthrown; it seemed as if a miracle could not save him. someone suggested that the cupidity of the grand vizier, balthazi, was the vulnerable spot. he loved gold better than glory. two hundred thousand rubles were quickly collected--catherine throwing in her jewels as an added lure. the shining gold, with the glittering jewels on top, averted the inevitable fate. balthazi consented to treat for peace upon condition that charles xii. be permitted to go back to sweden unmolested, and that azof be relinquished (treaty of pruth). peter's heart was sorely wrung by giving up azof, and his fleet, and his outlet to the southern seas. the peace was costly, but welcome; and catherine had earned his everlasting gratitude. the tsar now returned to the task of reforming his people. there were to be no more prostrations before him: the petitioner must call himself "subject," not "slave," and must stand upright like a man in his presence, even if he had to use his stick to make him do so! the asiatic caftan and the flowing robes must go along with the beards; the _terem_, with its "twenty-seven locks," must be abolished; the wives and daughters dragged from their seclusion must be clothed like europeans. marriage must not be compelled, and the betrothed might see each other before the wedding ceremony. if it is difficult to civilize one willing barbarian, what must it have been to compel millions to put on the garment of respectability which they hated! never before was there such a complete social reorganization, so entire a change in the daily habits of a whole people; and so violently effected. it required a soul of iron and a hand of steel to do it; and it has been well said that russia was knouted into civilization. a secret service was instituted to see that the changes were adopted, and the knout and the ax were the accompaniment of every reforming edict. this extraordinary man was by main force dragging a sullen and angry nation into the path of progress, and by artificial means trying to accomplish in a lifetime what had been the growth of centuries in other lands. then there must be no competing authorities--no suns shining near to the central sun. the patriarchate--which, after nikon's attempt in the reign of his grandfather, had been shorn of authority--was now abolished, and a holy synod of his own appointing took its place. for the _sobor_ or states-general there was substituted a senate, also of his own appointing. the _streltsui_, or militia, was swept out of existence; the military cossacks were deprived of their _hetman_ or leader; and a standing army, raised by recruiting, replaced these organizations. nobility meant service. every nobleman while he lived must serve the state, and he held his fief only upon condition of such service; while a nobleman who could not read or write in a foreign tongue forfeited his birthright. this was the way peter fought idleness and ignorance in his land! new and freer municipal organizations were given to the cities, enlarging the privileges of the citizens; schools and colleges were established; the awful punishment for debtors swept away. he was leveling up as well as leveling down--trying to create a great plateau of modern society, in which he alone towered high, rigid, and inexorable. if the attempt was impossible and against nature, if peter violated every law of social development by such a monstrous creation of a modern state, what could have been done better? how long would it have taken russia to _grow_ into modern civilization? and what would it be now if there had not been just such a strange being--with the nature and heart of a barbarian joined with a brain and an intelligence the peer of any in europe, capable of seeing that the only hope for russia was by force to convert it from an asiatic into a european state? one act bore with extreme severity upon the free peasantry. they were compelled to enroll themselves with the serfs in their communes, or to be dealt with as vagrants. peter has been censured for this and also for not extending his reforming broom to the communes and overthrowing the whole patriarchal system under which they existed--a system so out of harmony with the modern state he was creating. but it seems to the writer rather that he was guided by a sure instinct when he left untouched the one thing in a slavonic state, which was really slavonic. he and the long line of rulers behind him had been ruling by virtue of an authority established by aliens. russia had from the time of rurik been governed and formed after foreign models. peter was at least choosing better models than his predecessors. if it was an apparent mistake to build a modern, centralized state in the eighteenth century upon a social organization belonging to the eleventh century, it may be that in so doing, an inspired despot builded wiser than he knew. may it not be that the final regeneration of that land is to come some day, from the leaven of native instincts in her peasantry, which have never been invaded by foreign influences and which have survived all the vicissitudes of a thousand years in russia? the _raskolniks_, composed chiefly of free peasants and the smaller merchant class, had fled in large numbers from these blasphemous changes--some among the cossacks, and many more to the forests, hiding from persecution and from this reign of satan. the more they studied the apocalypse the plainer became the signs of the times. satan was being let loose for a period. they had been looking for the coming of antichrist and now he had come! the man in whom the spirit of satan was incarnate was peter the great. how else could they explain such impious demeanor in a tsar of russia--except that he was of satanic origin, and was the devil in disguise? by his newly invented census had he not "numbered the people"--a thing expressly forbidden? and his new "calendar," transferring september to january, was it not clearly a trick of satan to steal the days of the lord? and his new title _imperator_ (emperor), had it not a diabolic sound? and his order to shave, to disfigure the image of god! how would christ recognize his own at the last day? hunted like beasts, these people were living in wild communities, dying often by their own hands rather than yield the point of making the sign of the cross with two fingers instead of three-- at one time voluntarily perishing in the flames, in a church where they had taken refuge. peter put an end to their persecution. they were permitted to practice their ancient rites in the cities and to wear beards without molestation, upon condition of paying a double poll-tax. the millions of _raskolniks_ in russia to-day still consider new russia a creation of the evil one, and the tsar as antichrist. they yield a sullen compliance--pray for the tsar, then in private throw away the handle of door if a heretic has touched it. it is a conservative slavonic element which every tsar since mikhail romanoff has had to deal with. not one of the reforms was more odious to the people than the removal of the capital from moscow to st. petersburg. it violated the most sacred feelings of the nation; and many a soul was secretly looking forward to the time when there would be no peter, and they would return to the shrine of revered associations. but the new city grew in splendor--a city not of wood, to be the prey of conflagrations like moscow; but of stone, the first russia had yet possessed. the great nevski was already there lying in a cathedral bearing his name, and the cathedral of sts. peter and paul was ready to entomb the future tsars. and peter held his court, a poor imitation of versailles, and gave great entertainments at which the shy and embarrassed ladies in their new costumes kept apart by themselves, and the attempt to introduce the european dances was a very sorry failure. in peter planned a visit to paris, with two ends in view--a political alliance and a matrimonial one. he ardently desired to arrange for the future marriage of his little daughter elizabeth with louis xv., the infant king of france. neither suit was successful, but it is interesting to learn how different was the impression he produced from the one twelve years before. saint-simon writes of him: "his manner was at once the most majestic, the proudest, the most sustained, and at the same time the least embarrassing." that he was still eccentric may be judged from his call upon mme. de maintenon. she was ill in bed, and could not receive him; but he was not to be baffled. he drew aside the bed-curtains and stared at her fixedly, while she in speechless indignation glared at him. so, without one word, these two historic persons met--and parted! he probably felt curious to see what sort of a woman had enthralled and controlled the policy of louis xiv. peter did not intend to subject his wife to the criticism of the witty frenchwomen, so prudently left her at home. charles xii. died in , and in there was at last peace with sweden. but the saddest war of all, and one which was never to cease, was that in peter's own household. his son alexis, possibly embittered by his mother's fate, and certainly by her influence, grew up into a sullen, morose, and perverse youth. in vain did his father strive to fit him for his great destiny. by no person in the empire--unless, perhaps, his mother--were peter's reforms more detested than by the son and heir to whom he expected to intrust them. he was in close communication with his mother eudoxia, who in her monastery, holding court like a tsaritsa, was surrounded by intriguing and disaffected nobles--all praying for the death of peter. every method for reaching the head or heart of this incorrigible son utterly failed. during peter's absence abroad in , alexis disappeared. tolstoi, the tsar's emissary, after a long search tracked him to his hiding place and induced him to return. there was a terrible scene with his father, who had discovered that his son was more than perverse, he was a traitor--the center of a conspiracy, and in close relations with his enemies at home and abroad, betraying his interests to germany and to sweden. the plan, instigated by eudoxia, was that alexis, immediately upon the death of his father--which god was importuned to hasten--should return to moscow, restore the picturesque old barbarism, abandon the territory on the baltic, and the infant navy, and the city of his father's love; in other words, that he should scatter to the winds the prodigious results of his father's reign! it was monstrous--and so was its punishment! eudoxia was whipped and placed in close confinement, and thirty conspirators, members of her "court," were in various ways butchered. then alexis, the confessed traitor, was tried by a tribunal at the head of which was menschikof--and sentenced to death. on the morning of the th of june, , the tsar summoned his son to appear before nine of the greatest officers of the state. concerning what happened, the lips of those nine men were forever sealed. but the day following it was announced that alexis, the son of the emperor, was dead; and it is believed that he died under the knout. the question of succession now became a very grave one. alexis, who had under compulsion married charlotte of brunswick, left a son peter. the only other heirs were the tsar's two daughters anna and elizabeth, the children of catherine. shortly after the tragedy of his son's death, peter caused catherine to be formally crowned empress, probably in anticipation of his own death, which occurred in . chapter xvii germinating of seed--catherine empress the chief objection to a wise and beneficent despotism is that its creator is not immortal. the trouble with the alexanders and the charlemagnes and the peters is that the span of human life is too short for their magnificent designs, which fall, while incomplete, into incompetent or vicious hands, and the work is overthrown. peter's rest in his mausoleum at sts. peter and paul must have been uneasy if he saw the reigns immediately succeeding his own. not one man capable of a lofty patriotism like his, not one man working with unselfish energy for russia; but, just as in the olden time, oligarchic factions with leaders striving for that cause which would best protect and elevate themselves. menschikof, apraxin, tolstoi promoting the cause of catherine that they may not suffer for the death sentence passed upon alexis; galitsuin and others seeing their interests in the succession of peter, son of alexis and grandson of the emperor. catherine's harmless reign was over in two years ( ) and was followed by another, equally brief and harmless, by the young peter ii. the wily menschikof succeeded in betrothing his daughter to the young emperor, but not in retaining his ascendency over the self-willed boy. we wonder if peter saw his great minister scheming for wealth and for power, and then his fall, like wolsey's, from his pinnacle. we wonder if he saw him with his own hands building his hut on the frozen plains of siberia, clothed, not in rich furs and jewels, but bearded and in long, coarse, gray smock-frock; his daughter, the betrothed of an emperor, clad, not in ermine, but in sheep-skin. perhaps the lesson with his master the carpenter of saardam served him in building his own shelter in that dread abode. nor was he alone. he had the best of society, and at every turn of the wheel at st. petersburg it had aristocratic recruits. the galitsuins and the dolgorukis would have joined him soon had they not died in prison, and many others had they not been broken on the wheel or beheaded by anna, the coarse and vulgar woman who succeeded peter ii., when he suddenly died in . anna ivanovna was the daughter of peter's brother ivan v., who was associated with him upon the throne. she had the force to defeat an oligarchic attempt to tie her hands. the plan had originated with the galitsuins and dolgorukis, and was really calculated to benefit the state in a period of incompetent or vicious rulers by having the authority of the crown limited by a council of eight ministers. but it was reactionary. it was introducing a principle which had been condemned, and was a veiled attempt to undo the work of the ivans and the romanoffs, and to place the real power as of old in the hands of ruling families. the plan fell, and the leaders fell with it, and a host of their followers. the executioners were busy at st. petersburg, and the aristocratic colony in siberia grew larger. anna's reign was the period of a preponderating german influence in politics and at court. germans held high positions; one of them, gustav biron, the highest and most influential of all. anna's infatuation for this man made him the ruling spirit in her reign and the regent in the next, until he had his turn in disgrace and exile. added to the dissatisfaction on account of german ascendency was a growing feeling that the succession should come through peter, instead of through ivan, his insignificant associate upon the throne. such was the prevailing sentiment at the time of anna's death ( ). the tsaritsa named ivan, a grand-nephew, the infant son of her niece anna, her successor under the regency of biron, the man who had controlled the policy of the administration during her reign. this was only a brief and tragic episode. biron was swiftly swept out of power and into exile, and succeeded in the regency by anna, the mother of the infant emperor; then, following quickly upon that, was a carefully matured conspiracy formed in the interest of elizabeth petrovna, the beautiful daughter whose marriage with the young louis xv. had been an object of the great peter's hopes. in this connection it is well to mention that the terminations _vich_ and _vna_, so constantly met in russian names, have an important significance--_vich_ meaning son of, and _vna_ daughter of. _elizabeth petrovna_ is elizabeth the daughter of peter, and _peter alexievich_ is peter the son of alexis. in like manner tsarevich and tsarevna are respectively the son and daughter of the tsar; czar, czarevich, and czarevna being the modern form, and czarina instead of tsaritsa. the historian may for convenience omit the surname thus created, but in russia it would be a great breach of decorum to do so. by a sudden _coup d'état_, elizabeth petrovna took her rightful place upon the throne of her father ( ). in the dead of night the unfortunate anna and her husband were awakened, carried into exile, and their infant son ivan vi. was immured in a prison, where he was to grow up to manhood,--shattered in mind by his horrible existence of twenty years,--and then to be mercifully put out of the way as a possible menace to the ambitious plans of a woman. of the heads that dropped by orders of elizabeth it is needless to speak; but of one that was spared there is an interesting account. ostermann, a german, had been vice chancellor to the empress anna, and had also brought about the downfall of biron the regent. now his turn had come. he was taken to the place of execution with the rest; his gray head was laid upon the block, his collar unbuttoned and gown drawn back by the executioner--when a reprieve was announced. her gracious majesty was going to permit him to go to siberia. he arose, bowed, said: "i pray you give me back my wig," calmly put it on the head he had not lost, buttoned his shirt, replaced his gown, and started to join his company of friends--and of enemies--in exile. elizabeth was a vain voluptuary. if any glory attaches to her reign it came from the stored energies left by her great father. the marvel is that in this succession of vicious and aimless tyrannies by shameless women and incompetent men, russia did not fall into anarchy and revolution. but nothing was undone. the dignity of moscow was preserved by the fact that the coronations must take place there. but there was no longer a reactionary party scheming for a return to the ancient city. the seed scattered by peter had everywhere taken hold upon the soil, and now began to burst into flower. a university was founded at moscow. st. petersburg was filled with french artists and scholars, and had an academy of art and of science, which the great voltaire asked permission to join, while conferring with ivan shuvalof over the history of peter the great which he was then engaged in writing. there were no more ugly german costumes; french dress, manners and speech were the fashion. russia was assimilating europe: it had tried holland under peter, then germany under empress anna; but found its true affinity with france under elizabeth, when to write and speak french like a parisian became the badge of high station and culture. so of its own momentum russia had moved on without one strong competent personality at its head, and had become a tremendous force which must be reckoned with by the nations of europe. in every great political combination the important question was, on which side she would throw her immense weight; and elizabeth was courted and flattered to her heart's content by foreign diplomatists and their masters. frederick the great had reason to regret that he had been witty at her expense. it was almost his undoing by turning the scale against him at a critical moment. elizabeth did not forget it and had her revenge when she joined maria theresa in the final struggle with frederick in . and frederick also remembered it in , when, as he dramatically expressed it, "the barbarians were in berlin engaged in digging the grave of humanity." but all benefit from these enormous successes was abandoned, when the commanding russian officer apraxin mysteriously withdrew and returned with his army to russia. this was undoubtedly part of a deeply laid plot of which frederick was cognizant, and working in concert with a certain distinguished lady in elizabeth's own court--a clever puller of wires who was going to fill some important chapters in russian history! the empress had chosen for her successor her nephew peter, son of her only sister and the duke of holstein. the far-seeing frederick had brought about a marriage between this youth and a german princess, sophia of anhalt-zerbst. then the future emperor peter iii. and his german bride took up their abode in the palace at st. petersburg, she having been rechristened _catherine_, upon adopting the greek faith. a mutual dislike deepened into hatred between this brilliant, clever woman and her vulgar and inferior husband; and there is little doubt that the treacherous conduct of the russian commander was part of a plan to place her infant son paul upon the throne instead of his father, and make her regent. elizabeth's death was apparently at hand and the general mistrust of peter's fitness for the position opened the way for such a conspiracy--which, however, is not known, but only suspected. the one merciful edict which adorns this reign is the "abolishing of the death penalty." but as the knout became more than ever active, we are left to infer that by a nice distinction in the russian mind death under that instrument of torture was not considered "capital punishment." it is said that when the daughter of the austere peter died, she left sixteen thousand dresses, thousands of slippers, and two large chests of silk stockings--a wardrobe which would have astonished her mother at the time she was serving the table of the pastor glück. elizabeth expired in , and the throne passed to peter iii., grandson of peter the great and catherine i. the first act of the new tsar was a delightful surprise to the nobility. he published a manifesto freeing the nobles from the obligation of service imposed by peter the great, saying that this law, which was wise at the time it was enacted, was no longer necessary, now that the nobility was enlightened and devoted to the service of their ruler. the grateful nobles talked of erecting a statue of gold to this benign sovereign, who in like manner abolished the secret court of police and proclaimed pardon to thousands of political fugitives. the birons were recalled from siberia, and the old duke of kurland and his wife came back like shades from another world, after twenty years of exile. but this pleasant prelude was very brief. the nobles soon found that their golden idol would have to be made instead of very coarse clay. nothing could exceed the grossness and the unbalanced folly of peter's course. he reversed the whole attitude of the state toward germany. so abject was his devotion to frederick the great that he restored to him the russian conquests, and reached the limit which could be borne when he shouted at one of his orgies: "let us drink to the health of our king and master frederick. you may be assured if he should order it, i would make war on hell with all my empire." he was also planning to rid himself of catherine and to disinherit her child paul in favor of ivan vi.; and with this in view that unfortunate youth, who after his twenty years' imprisonment was a mental wreck, was brought to st. petersburg. catherine's plans were carefully laid and then swiftly executed. the emperor was arrested and his abdication demanded. he submitted as quietly as a child. catherine writes: "i then sent the deposed emperor in the care of alexis orlof and some gentle and reasonable men to a palace fifteen miles from peterhof, a secluded spot, but very pleasant." in four days it was announced that the late emperor had "suddenly died of a colic to which he was subject." it is known that he was visited by alexis orlof and another of catherine's agents in his "pleasant" retreat, who saw him privately; that a violent struggle was heard in his room; and that he was found lying dead with the black and blue mark of a colossal hand on his throat. that the hand was orlof's is not doubted; but whether acting under orders from catherine or not will never be known. this is what is known as the "revolution of ," which placed catherine ii. upon the throne of russia. her son paul was only six years old; and in less than two years ivan vi., the only claimant to the throne who could become the center of a conspiracy against her authority, was most opportunely removed. it was said that his guards killed him to prevent an attempted rescue. no one knows or ever will know whether or not catherine was implicated in his "taking off." but certainly nothing at the time could have pleased her better. chapter xviii partition of poland--death of catherine european diplomacy at this period was centered about the perishing state of poland. that kingdom, once so powerful, was becoming every year more enfeebled. it was a defective social organization and an arrogant nobility that ruined poland. there existed only two classes--nobles and serfs. the business and trade of the state were in the hands of germans and jews, and there existed no national or middle class in which must reside the life of a modern state. in other words, poland was patriarchal and mediaeval. she had become unsuited to her environment. surrounded by powerful absolutisms which had grown out of the ruins of mediaeval forces, she in the eighteenth century was clinging to the traditions of feudalism as if it were still the twelfth century. it was in vain that her sons were patriotic, in vain that they struggled for reforms, in vain that they lay down and died upon battlefields. she alone in europe had not been borne along on that great wave of centralization long ago, and she had missed an essential experience. she was out of step with the march of civilization, and the advancing forces were going to run over her. the more enlightened poles began too late to strive for a firm hereditary monarchy, and to try to curb the power of selfish nobles. not only was their state falling to pieces within, but it was being crushed from without. protestant prussia in the west, greek russia in the east, and catholic austria on the south, each preparing to absorb all it could get away--not from poland, but from each other. it was obvious that it was only a question of time when the feeble kingdom wedged in between these powerful and hungry states must succumb; and for russia, austria, and prussia it was simply a question as to the share which should fall to each. such was the absorbing problem which employed catherine's powers from the early years of her reign almost to its close. europe soon saw that it was a woman of no ordinary ability who was sitting on the throne of russia. in her foreign policy, and in the vigor infused into the internal administration of her empire, the master-hand became apparent. as a counter-move to her designs upon poland, the turks were induced to harass her by declaring war upon russia. there was a great surprise in store for europe as well as for the ottoman empire. this dauntless woman was unprepared for such an emergency; but she wrote to one of her generals: "the romans did not concern themselves with the _number_ of their enemies; they only asked, 'where are they?'" her armies swept the peninsula clear of tatars and of turks, and in a russian fleet was on the black sea, and the terror of constantinople knew no bounds. if affairs in europe and disorders in her own empire had not been so pressing, the long-cherished dream of the grand princes might have been realized. a plague in moscow broke out in which so excited the superstitions of the people, that it led to an insurrection; immediately following this, a terrible demoralization was created in the south by an illiterate cossack named pugatchek, who announced that he was peter the third. he claimed that instead of dying as was supposed, he had escaped to the ukraine, and was now going to st. petersburg with an army to punish his wife catherine and to place his son paul upon the throne. as a _pretender_ he was not dangerous, but as a rallying point for unhappy serfs and for an exasperated and suffering people looking for a leader, he did become a very formidable menace, which finally developed into a peasants' war. the insurrection was at last quelled, and ended with the execution of the false peter at moscow. in the midst of these distractions at home, while fighting the ottoman empire for the shores of the black sea, and all europe over a partition of poland, the empress was at the same time introducing reforms in every department of her incoherent and disordered empire. peter the great had abolished the patriarchate. she did more. the monasteries and the ecclesiastical estates, which were exempt from taxes during all the period of mongol dominion, had never paid tribute to khans, had in consequence grown to be enormously wealthy. it is said the clergy owned a million serfs. catherine placed the property of the church under the administration of a secular commission, and the heads of the monasteries and the clergy were converted from independent sovereigns into mere pensioners of the crown. then she assailed the receiving of bribes, and other corrupt practices in the administration of justice. she struggled hard to let in the light of better instruction upon the upper and middle classes. if she could, she would have abolished ignorance and cruelty in the land, not because she was a philanthropist, but because she loved civilization. it was her intellect, not her heart, that made catherine a reformer. when she severely punished and forever disgraced a lady of high rank for cruelty to her serfs,--forty of whom had been tortured to death,--it was because she had the educated instincts of a european, not an asiatic, and she had also the intelligence to realize that no state could be made sound which rested upon a foundation of human misery. she established a russian academy modeled after the french, its object being to fix the rules for writing and speaking the russian language and to promote the study of russian history. in other words, catherine was a reformer fully in sympathy with the best methods prevailing in western europe. she was profoundly interested in the new philosophy and the intellectual movement in france, was in correspondence with voltaire and the encyclopedists, and a student of the theories of rousseau. of course the influence exerted by french genius over russian civilization at this time did not penetrate far below the upper and highly educated class; but there is no doubt it left a deep impress upon the literature and art of the nation, and also modified russian characteristics by introducing religious tolerance and habits of courtesy, besides making aspirations after social justice and political liberty entirely respectable. catherine's "book of instructions" to the commission which was created by her to assist in making a new code of laws contained political maxims which would satisfy advanced reformers to-day; although when she saw later that the french revolution was their logical conclusion, she repudiated them, took voltaire's bust down from its pedestal, and had it thrown into a rubbish heap. the work she was accomplishing for russia was second only to that of peter the great; and when she is reproached for not having done more and for not having broken the chains forged by boris upon twenty million people, let it be remembered that she lived in the eighteenth, and not the nineteenth, century; and that at that very time franklin and jefferson were framing a constitution which sanctioned the existence of negro slavery in an ideal republic! a new generation had grown up in poland, men not nobles nor serfs, but a race of patriots familiar with the stirring literature of their century. they had seen their land broken into fragments and then ground fine by a proud and infatuated nobility. they had seen their pusillanimous kings one after another yielding to the insolent demands for their territory. polish territory extended eastward into the ukraine; now that must be cut off and dropped into the lap of russia. another arm extended north, separating eastern prussia from western. that too must be cut off and fall to prussia. then after shearing these extremities, the poland which was left must not only accept the spoliation, but co-operate with her despoilers in adopting under their direction a constitution suited to its new humiliation. her king was making her the laughing-stock of europe--but before long the name poland was to become another name for tragedy. kosciusko had fought in the war of the american revolution. when he returned, with the badge of the order of the cincinnati upon his breast and filled with dreams of the regeneration of his own land by the magic of this new political freedom, he was the chosen leader of the patriots. the partition of poland was not all accomplished at one time. it took three repasts to finish the banquet (the partitions of - - ), and then some time more was required to sweep up the fragments and to efface its name from the map of europe. kosciusko and his followers made their last vain and desperate stand in , and when he fell covered with wounds at the battle of kaminski, poland fell with him. the poles were to survive only as a more or less unhappy element among nations where they were aliens. their race affinities were with russia, for they were a slavonic people; their religious affinities were with catholic austria; but with protestant prussia there was not one thing in common, and that was the bitterest servitude of all. the poles in russia were to some extent autonomous. they were permitted to continue their local governments under a viceroy appointed by the tsar; their slavonic system of communes was not disturbed, nor their language nor customs. still it was only a privileged servitude after all, and the time was coming when it was to become an unmitigated one. but effaced as a political sovereignty, poland was to survive as a nationality of genius. her sons were going to sing their songs in other lands, but mickiewiz and sienkiewicz and chopin are polish, not russian. the alliance of the three sovereigns engaged in this dismemberment was about as friendly as is that of three dogs who have run down a hare and are engaged in picking nice morsels from its bones. if russia was getting more than her share, the turks would be incited by austria or prussia to attack her in the south; and many times did catherine's armies desert poland to march down and defend the crimea, and her new fort at sebastopol, and her fleet on the black sea. in , accompanied by her grandsons, the grand dukes alexander and constantine, she made that famous journey down the dnieper; visited the ancient shrines about kief; stood in the picturesque old capital of saraï, on the spot where russian grand princes had groveled at the feet of the khans; and then, looked upon sebastopol, which marked the limit of the new frontier which she had created. the french revolution caused a revulsion in her political theories. she indulged in no more abstractions about human rights, and had an antipathy for the new principles which had led to the execution of the king and queen and to such revolting horrors. she made a holocaust of the literature she had once thought entertaining. russians suspected of liberal tendencies were watched, and upon the slightest pretext sent to siberia, and she urged the king of sweden to head a crusade against this pestilential democracy, which she would help him to sweep out of europe. it was catherine, in consultation with the emperor of austria, who first talked of dismembering turkey and creating out of its own territory a group of neutral states lying between europe and the ottoman empire. and voltaire's dream of a union of the greek peoples into an hellenic kingdom she improved upon by a larger plan of her own, by which she was to be the conqueror of the ottoman empire, while her grandson constantine, sitting on a throne at constantinople, should rule greeks and turks alike under a russian protectorate. upon the private life of catherine there is no need to dwell. this is not the biography of a woman, but the history of the empire she magnificently ruled for thirty-four years. it is enough to say she was not better than her predecessors, the tsaritsas elizabeth and anna. the influence exerted by menschikof in the reign of catherine i., and biron in that of anna, was to be exerted by alexis orlof, potemkin, and other favorites in this. her son paul, who was apparently an object of dislike, was kept in humiliating subordination to the orlofs and her other princely favorites, to whose councils he was never invited. righteousness and moral elevation did not exist in her character nor in her reign; but for political insight, breadth of statesmanship, and a powerful grasp upon the enormous problems in her heterogeneous empire, she is entitled to rank with the few sovereigns who are called "great." a german by birth, a french-woman by intellectual tastes and tendencies--she was above all else a russian, and bent all the resources of her powerful personality to the enlightenment and advancement of the land of her adoption. her people were not "knouted into civilization," but invited and drawn into it. her touch was terribly firm--but elastic. she was arbitrary, but tolerant; and if her reign was a despotism, it was a despotism of that broad type which deals with the sources of things, and does not bear heavily upon individuals. the empress catherine died suddenly in , and paul i. was crowned emperor of russia. chapter xix napoleon in europe--attitude of russia paul was forty-one years old when he ascended the throne he had for twenty years believed was rightfully his. the mystery surrounding the death of his father peter iii., the humiliations he had suffered at his mother's court, and what he considered her usurpation of his rights--all these had been for years fermenting in his narrow brain. his first act gave vent to his long-smothered indignation and his suspicions regarding his father's death. peter's remains were exhumed--placed beside those of catherine lying in state, to share all the honors of her obsequies and to be entombed with her; while alexis orlof, his supposed murderer, was compelled to march beside the coffin, bearing his crown. then when paul had abolished from the official language the words "society" and "citizen," which his mother had delighted to honor--when he had forbidden the wearing of frock-coats, high collars, and neckties, and refused to allow frenchmen to enter his territory--and when he had compelled his people to get out of their carriages and kneel in the mud as he passed--he supposed he was strengthening the foundations of authority which catherine ii. had loosened. to him is attributed the famous saying, "know that the only person of consideration in russia is the person whom i address, and he only during the time i am addressing him." he was a born despot, and his reforms consisted in a return to prussian methods and to an oriental servility. the policy he announced was one of peace with europe--a cessation of those wars by which his mother had for thirty-four years been draining the treasury. he was going to turn his conquests toward the east; and vast plans, with vague and indefinite outlines, were forming in the narrow confines of his restless brain. but these were interrupted by unexpected conditions. in the military genius of a young man twenty-seven years old electrified europe. napoleon bonaparte, at the head of a ragged, unpaid french army, overthrew northern italy, and out of the fragments created a cisalpine republic. the possession of the ionian isles, quickly followed by the occupation of egypt, threatened the east. so turkey and russia, contrary to all old traditions, formed a defensive alliance, which was quickly followed by an offensive one between russia and austria. but the tactics so successful against poles and turks were unavailing against those employed by the new conqueror. the russian commander suvorov was defeated and returned in disgrace to his enraged master at st. petersburg, who refused to receive him. in bonaparte had secured belgium, had compelled austria to cede to him lombardy, also to promise him help in getting the left bank of the rhine from the germanic body, and to acknowledge his cisalpine republic. the emperor paul's feelings underwent a swift change. he was blinded by the glory of napoleon's conquests and pleased with his despotic methods. he conceived not only a friendship but a passion for the man who could accomplish such things. austria and england had both offended him, so he readily fell into a plan for a franco-russian understanding for mutual benefit, from which there developed a larger plan. the object of this was the overthrow of british dominion in india. paul was to move with a large army into hindostan, there to be joined by a french army from egypt; then they would together sweep through the country of the great mogul, gathering up the english settlements by the way and so placating the native population and princes that they would join them in the liberation of their country from english tyranny and usurpation. paul said in his manifesto to the army that the great mogul and the sovereign princes were to be undisturbed; nothing was to be attacked but the commercial establishments acquired by money and used to oppress and to enslave india. at the same time he said to his army, "the treasures of the indies shall be your recompense," failing to state how these treasures were to be obtained without disturbing the sovereign princes. it is known that napoleon had plans of an empire in the east, and it is also known that some compact of this kind did exist between him and the emperor paul. in eleven regiments of cossacks, the vanguard of the army which was to follow, had started upon the great undertaking, when news was received that the emperor paul i. was dead. the unbalanced course pursued by the tsar, his unwise reforms, and his capricious policy had not only alienated everyone, but caused serious apprehensions for the safety of the empire. he had arrayed himself against his wife and his children; had threatened to disinherit alexander, his oldest son and heir, whom he especially hated. a plot was formed to compel his abdication. to that extent his sons alexander and constantine were aware of and party to it. on the night of the d of march, , the conspirators entered paul's sleeping apartment after he had retired, and, sword in hand, presented the abdication for him to sign. there was a struggle in which the lamp was overturned, and in the darkness the tsar, who had fallen upon the floor, was strangled with an officer's scarf. on the th of march, , alexander, who was entirely innocent of complicity in this crime, was proclaimed emperor of russia. it is said that when bonaparte saw the downfall of his vast design, he could not contain his rage; and pointing to england as the instigator of the deed, he said in the _moniteur_: "it is for history to clear up the secret of this tragedy, and to say what national policy was interested in such a catastrophe!" the emperor paul had an acute, although narrow, intelligence, and was not without generous impulses. but although he sometimes made impetuous reparation for injury, although he recalled exiles from siberia and gave to kosciusko and other patriots their freedom, unless his kindness was properly met the reaction toward severity was excessive. a little leaven of good with much that is evil sometimes creates a very explosive mixture, and converts what would be a mild, even tyranny into a vindictive and revengeful one. when we behold the traits exhibited during this brief reign of five years, we are not surprised at catherine's unwillingness to resign to her son the empire for which she had done so much; and we are inclined to believe it is true that there was, as has been rumored, a will left by the empress naming as her heir the grandson whom she had carefully prepared to be her successor, and that this paper was destroyed by the conspirators. there is one wise act to record in the reign of paul--although it was probably prompted not by a desire to benefit the future so much as to reverse the past. peter the great, probably on account of his perverse son alexis, had set aside the principle of primogeniture; a principle not slavonic, but established by the muscovite princes. peter, the ruthless reformer, placed in the hands of the sovereign the power to choose his own successor. paul reestablished this principle, and thereby bestowed a great benefit upon russia. chapter xx napoleon in russia--holy alliance a youth of twenty-five years was tsar and autocrat of all the russias. alexander had from his birth been withdrawn entirely from his father's influence. the tutor chosen by his grandmother was laharpe, a swiss republican, and the principles of political freedom were at the foundation of his training. it was of course during the period of her own liberal tendencies that alexander was imbued with the advanced theories which had captured intellectual europe in the days before the french revolution. the new emperor declared in a manifesto that his reign should be inspired by the aims and principles of catherine ii. he then quickly freed himself from the conspirators who had murdered his father, and drew about him a group of young men like himself, utterly inexperienced, but enthusiastic dreamers of a reign of goodwill which should regenerate russia. with the utmost confidence, reforms of the most radical nature were proposed and discussed. there was to be a gradual emancipation of the serfs, and misery of all sorts to be lifted from the land by a new and benign system of government which should be representative and constitutional. many changes were at once instituted. the old system of "colleges," or departments, established by peter the great was removed and a group of ministers after the european custom constituted the tsar's official household, or what would once have been called his _drujina_. in the very first year of this reign there began an accession of territory in asia, which gravitated as if by natural law toward the huge mass. the picturesque old kingdom of georgia, lying south of the caucasus between the black and caspian seas, was the home of that fair and gifted race which, fallen from its high estate, had become the victim of the turks, and, with its congener circassia, had long provided the harems of the ottoman empire with beautiful slaves. the georgians had often appealed to the tsars for protection, and in the treaty was signed which incorporated the suffering kingdom with russia. a portion of the state passed to russia in , at the commencement of alexander's reign; but the formal surrender of the whole by treaty was not until . so day by day, while the young emperor and his friends were living in their pleasant utopia, russia, with all its incoherent elements, with its vast energies, its vast riches, and its vast miseries, was expanding and assuming a more dominating position in europe. what would be done at st. petersburg, was the question of supreme importance; and alexander was being importuned to join the coalition against the common enemy bonaparte. the night before the d of october, , the russian emperor and his young officers, as confident of victory as they were of their ability to reconstruct russia, were impatiently waiting for the morrow, and the conflict at austerlitz. with a ridiculous assurance the young alexander sent by the young prince dolgoruki a note addressed--not to the emperor--but to the "head of the french nation," stating his demands for the abandonment of italy and immediate peace! before sundown the next day the "battle of the three emperors" had been fought; the russian army was scattered after frightful loss, and alexander, attended by an orderly and two cossacks, was galloping away as fast as his horse could carry him. then napoleon was in vienna--francis ii. at his bidding took off his imperial crown--the "confederation of the rhine" was formed out of germanic states; and then the terrible and invincible man turned toward prussia, defeated a russian army which came to its rescue, and in was in berlin--master and arbiter of europe! alexander, the romantic champion of right and justice, the dreamer of ideal dreams, had been carried by the whirlpool of events into currents too strong for him. he stood alone on the continent of europe face to face with the man who was subjugating it. his army was broken in pieces, and perhaps an invasion of his own empire was at hand. should he make terms with this man whose career had so revolted him?--or should he defy him and accept the risk of an invasion, which, by offering freedom to the serfs and independence to the poles, might give the invader the immediate support of millions of his own subjects? then added to the conflict with his old self, there was the irresistible magic of napoleon's personal influence. a two-hours' interview on the raft at tilsit--june , --changed the whole direction of alexander's policy, and made him an ally of the despot he had detested, whom he now joined in determining the fate of europe. together they decided who should occupy thrones and who should not; to whom there should be recompense, and who should be despoiled; and the emperor of russia consented to join the emperor of the french in a war upon the commercial prosperity of england--his old friend and ally--by means of a continental blockade. times were changed. it was not so long ago--just one hundred years--since peter the great had opened one small window for the light from civilized europe to glimmer through; and now the tsar of that same russia, in a two-hours' interview on a raft, was deciding what should be the fate of europe! the emperor's young companions, with small experience and lofty aims, were keenly disappointed in him. this alliance was in contravention of all their ideals. he began to grow distrustful and cold toward them, leaning entirely upon speranski, his prime minister, who was french in his sympathies and a profound admirer of napoleon. alexander, no less zealous for reforms than before, hurt at the defection of his friends and trying to justify himself to himself, said "does not this man represent the new forces in conflict with the old?" but he was not at ease. he and his minister worked laboriously; a systematic plan of reform was prepared. speranski considered the code napoleon the model of all progressive legislation. its adoption was desired, but it was suited only to a homogeneous people; it was a modern garment and not to be worn by a nation in which feudalism lingered, in which there was not a perfect equality before the law; hence the emancipation of the serfs must be the corner-stone of the new structure. the difficulties grew larger as they were approached. he had disappointed the friends of his youth, had displeased his nobility, and a general feeling of irritation prevailed upon finding themselves involved by the franco-russian alliance in wars with england, austria, and sweden, and the prosperity of the empire seriously impaired by the continental blockade. but when bonaparte began to show scant courtesy to his russian ally, and to act as if he were his master, then alexander's disenchantment was complete. he freed himself from the unnatural alliance, and faced the inevitable consequences. napoleon, also glad to be freed from a sentimental friendship not at all to his taste, prepared to carry out his long-contemplated design. in july of , by way of poland, he entered russia with an army of over , souls. it was a human avalanche collected mainly from the people he had conquered, with which he intended to overwhelm the russian empire. it was of little consequence that thirty or forty thousand fell as this or that town was captured by the way. he had expected victory to be costly, and on he pressed with diminished numbers toward moscow, armies retreating and villages burning before him. if st. petersburg was the brain of russia, moscow--moscow the holy--was its heart! what should they do? should they lure the french army on to its destruction and then burn and retreat? or should they there take their stand and sacrifice the last army of russia to save moscow? with tears streaming down their cheeks they yielded to the words of kutuzof, who said: "when it becomes a matter of the salvation of russia, moscow is only a city like any other. let us retreat." the archives and treasures of the churches and palaces were carried to valdimir, such as could of the people following them, and the city was left to its fate. on september the th, , the french troops defiled through the streets of moscow singing the marseillaise, and napoleon established himself in the ancient palace of the ivans within the walls of the kremlin. the torches had been distributed, and were in the hands of the muscovites. the stores of brandy, and boats loaded with alcohol, were simultaneously ignited, and a fierce conflagration like a sea of flame raged below the kremlin. napoleon, compelled to force his way through these volcanic fires himself, narrowly escaped. for five days they continued, devouring supplies and everything upon which the army had depended for shelter and subsistence. for thirty-five days more they waited among the blackened ruins. all was over with the french conquest. the troops were eating their horses, and thousands were already perishing with hunger. then the elements began to fight for russia--the snow-flakes came, then the bitter polar winds, cutting like a razor; and a winding sheet of snow enveloped the land. on the th of october, after lighting a mine under the kremlin, with sullen rage the french troops marched out of moscow. the great tower of ivan erected by boris was cracked and some portions of palaces and gateways destroyed by this vicious and useless act of revenge. then, instead of marching upon st. petersburg as he had expected, napoleon escaped alone to the frontier, leaving his perishing wreck of an army to get back as it could. the peasantry, the mushiks, whom the russians had feared to trust--infuriated by the destruction of their homes, committed awful atrocities upon the starving, freezing soldiers, who, maddened by cold and hunger and by the singing in their ears of the rarefied air, many of them leaped into the bivouac fires. it was a colossal tragedy. of the , soldiers only , ever returned. the extinction of the grand army of invasion was complete. but in the following year, with another great army, the indomitable napoleon was conducting a campaign in germany which ended with the final defeat at leipzig--then the march upon paris--and in march, , alexander at the head of the allies was in the french capital, dictating the terms of surrender. this young man had played the most brilliant part in the great drama of liberation. he was hailed as a deliverer, and exerted a more powerful influence than any of the other sovereigns, in the long period required for rearranging europe after the passing of napoleon--the disturber of the peace of the world. in sweden had surrendered to russia finland, which had belonged to that country for six centuries. the kindly-intentioned alexander conceded to the finns many privileges similar to those enjoyed by poland, which until recent years have not been seriously interfered with. he guaranteed to them a diet, a separate army, and the continuance of their own language and customs. a ukase just issued by the present emperor seriously invades these privileges, and a forcible russification of finland threatens to bring a wave of finnish emigration to america ( ). when the emperor alexander returned after the treaty of paris he was thirty-four years old. many of the illusions of his youth had faded. his marriage with elizabeth of baden was unhappy. his plans for reform had not been understood by the people whom they were intended to benefit. he had yielded finally to the demands of his angry nobility, had dismissed his liberal adviser speranski and substituted araktcheef, an intolerant, reactionary leader. he grew morose, gloomy, and suspicious, and a reign of extreme severity under araktcheef commenced. in he consented to join in a league with austria and prussia for the purpose of suppressing the very tendencies he himself had once promoted. the league was called the "holy alliance," and its object was to reinstate the principle of the divine right of kings and to destroy democratic tendencies in the germ. araktcheef's severities, directed against the lower classes and the peasantry, produced more serious disorders than had yet developed. there were popular uprisings, and in at kief there was held secretly a convention at which the people were told that "the obstacle to their liberties was the romanoff dynasty. they must shrink from nothing--not from the murder of the emperor, nor the extermination of the imperial family." the peasants were promised freedom if they would join in the plot, and a definite time was proposed for the assassination of alexander when he should inspect the troops in the ukraine in . when the tsar heard of this conspiracy in the south he exclaimed: "ah, the monsters! and i planned for nothing but their happiness!" he brooded over his lost illusions and his father's assassination. his health became seriously disordered, and he was advised to go to the south for change of climate. at taganrog, on the st of december, , he suddenly expired. almost his last words were: "they may say of me what they will, but i have lived and shall die republican." a statement difficult to accept, regarding a man who helped to create the "holy alliance." chapter xxi russia orientalized--eastern question as alexander left no sons, by the law of primogeniture his brother constantine, the next oldest in the family of paul i., should have been his successor. but constantine had already privately renounced the throne in favor of his brother nicholas. the actual reason for this renunciation was the grand duke's deep attachment to a polish lady for whom he was willing even to relinquish a crown. the letter announcing his intention contained these words: "being conscious that i have neither genius, talents, nor energy necessary for my elevation, i beg your imperial majesty to transfer this right to my brother nicholas, the next in succession." the document accepting the renunciation and acknowledging nicholas as his successor was safely deposited by alexander, its existence remaining a profound secret even to nicholas himself. at the time of the emperor's death constantine, who was viceroy of poland, was residing at cracow. nicholas, unaware of the circumstances, immediately took the oath of allegiance to his brother and also administered it to the troops at st. petersburg. it required some time for constantine's letter to arrive, stating his immovable determination to abide by the decision which would be found in his letter to the late emperor. there followed a contest of generosity--nicholas urging and protesting, and his brother refusing the elevation. three weeks passed--weeks of disastrous uncertainty--with no acknowledged head to the empire. such an opportunity was not to be neglected by the revolutionists in the south nor their co-workers in the north. pestel, the leader, had long been organizing his recruits, and st. petersburg and moscow were the centers of secret political societies. the time for action had unexpectedly come. there must be a swift overturning: the entire imperial family must be destroyed, and the senate and holy synod must be compelled to adopt the constitution which had been prepared. the hour appointed for the beginning of this direful programme was the day when the senators and the troops should assemble to take the oath of allegiance to nicholas. the soldiers, who knew nothing of the plot, were incited to refuse to take the oath on the ground that constantine's resignation was false, and that he was a prisoner and in chains. constantine was their friend and going to increase their pay. one moscow regiment openly shouted: "long life to constantine!" and when a few conspirators cried "long live the constitution!" the soldiers asked if that was constantine's wife. so the ostensible cause of the revolt, which soon became general, was a fidelity to their rightful emperor, who was being illegally deposed. under this mask worked pestel and his co-conspirators, composed in large measure of men of high intelligence and standing, including even government officials and members of the aristocracy. a few days were sufficient to overcome this abortive attempt at revolution in russia. pestel, when he heard his death sentence, said, "my greatest error is that i tried to gather the harvest before sowing the seed"; and ruileef, "i knew this enterprise would be my destruction--but could no longer endure the sight of my country's anguish under despotism." when we think of the magnitude of the offense, the monstrous crime which was contemplated; and when we remember that nicholas was by nature the very incarnation of unrestrained authority, the punishment seems comparatively light. there was no vindictiveness, no wholesale slaughter. five leaders were deliberately and ignominiously hanged, and hundreds of their misguided followers and sympathizers went into perpetual exile in siberia--there to expiate the folly of supposing that a handful of inexperienced enthusiasts and doctrinaires could in their studies create new and ideal conditions, and build up with one hand while they were recklessly destroying with the other. their aims were the abolition of serfdom, the destruction of all existing institutions, and a perfect equality under a constitutional government. they were definite and sweeping--and so were the means for accomplishing them. their benign government was going to rest upon crime and violence. we should call these men nihilists now. there were among them writers and thinkers, noble souls which, under the stress of oppression and sympathy, had gone astray. they had failed, but they had proved that there were men in russia capable of dying for an ideal. when the cause had its martyrs it had become sacred--and though it might sleep, it would not die. the man sitting upon the throne of russia now was not torn by conflicts between his ideals and inexorable circumstance. his natural instincts and the conditions of his empire both pointed to the same simple course--an unmitigated autocracy--an absolute rule supported by military power. instead of opening wider the doors leading into europe, he intended to close them, and if necessary even to lock them. instead of encouraging his people to be more european, he was going to be the champion of a new pan-slavism and to strive to intensify the russian national traits. the time had come for this great empire to turn its face away from the west and toward the east, where its true interests were. such a plan may not have been formulated by nicholas, but such were the policies instinctively pursued from the beginning of his reign to its close. such an attitude naturally brought him at once into conflict with turkey, with which country he was almost immediately at war. of course no one suspected him of sentimental sympathy when he espoused the cause of greece in the picturesque struggle with the turks which brought western europe at last to her rescue. it was only a part of a much larger plan, and when nicholas had proclaimed himself the protector of the orthodox christians in the east, he had placed himself in a relation to the eastern question which could be held by no other sovereign in europe; for persecuted christians in the east were not catholic but orthodox; and was not he the head of the orthodox church? it was to secure this first move in the game of diplomacy that russia joined england and france, and placed the struggling little state of greece upon its feet in . but the conditions in western europe were unfavorable to the tranquil pursuit of autocratic ends. charles x. had presumed too far upon the patient submission of the french people. in paris was in a state of insurrection; charles, the last of the bourbons, had abdicated; and louis philippe, under a new liberal constitution _approved by the people_, was king of the french. the indignation of nicholas at this overturning was still greater when the epidemic of revolt spread to belgium and to italy, and then leaped, as such epidemics will, across the intervening space to russian poland. the surface calm in that unhappy state ruled by the grand duke constantine swiftly vanished and revealed an entire people waiting for the day when, at any cost, they might make one more stand for freedom. the plan was a desperate one. it was to assassinate constantine, who had relinquished a throne rather than leave them; to induce lithuania, their old ally, to join them; and to create an independent polish state which would bar the russians from entering europe. in the brief struggle was ended, and europe had received the historic announcement, "order reigns at warsaw." not only warsaw, but poland, was at the feet of the emperor. confiscations, imprisonments, and banishments to siberia were the least terrible of the punishments. every germ of a polish nationality was destroyed--the army and the diet effaced, russian systems of taxes, justice, and coinage, and the metric system of weights and measures used in russia were introduced,--the julian calendar superseded the one adopted all over the world--the university of warsaw was carried to moscow, and the polish language was prohibited to be taught in the schools. indemnity and pardon were offered to those who abjured the roman catholic faith, and many were received into the bosom of the national orthodox church; those refusing this offer of clemency being subjected to great cruelties. poland was no more. polish exiles were scattered all over europe. in france, hungary, italy, wherever there were lovers of freedom, there were thousands of these emigrants without a country, living illustrations of what an unrestrained despotism might do, and everywhere intensifying the desires of patriots to achieve political freedom in their own lands. nicholas, as the chief representative of conservatism in europe, looked upon france with especial aversion. paris was the center of these pernicious movements which periodically shook europe to its foundations. it had overthrown his ally charles x., and had been the direct cause of the insurrection in poland which had cost him thousands of rubles and lives; and now nowhere else was such sympathetic welcome given to the polish refugees, thousands of whom were in the french army. his relations with louis philippe became strained, and he was looking about for an opportunity to manifest his ill will. in the meantime he addressed himself to what he considered the _reforms_ in his own empire. he was going to establish a sort of political quarantine to keep out european influences. it was forbidden to send young men to western universities--the term of absence in foreign countries was limited to five years for nobles, three for russian subjects. the russian language, literature, and history were to be given prominence over all studies in the schools. german free-thought was especially disliked by him. his instincts were not mistaken, for what the encyclopedists had been to the revolution of , the new school of thought in germany would be to that of . so from his point of view he was wise in excluding philosophy from the universities and permitting it to be taught only by ecclesiastics. the khedive of egypt, who ruled under a turkish protectorate, in was at war with his master the sultan. it suited the emperor of russia at this time to do the sultan a kindness, so he joined him in bringing the khedive to terms, and as his reward received a secret promise from the porte to close the dardanelles in case of war against russia--to permit no foreign warships to pass through upon any pretext. there was indignation in europe when this was known, and out of the whole imbroglio there came just what nicholas and his minister nesselrode had intended--a joint protection of turkey by the great powers, from which france was excluded on account of her avowed sympathy for the khedive in the recent troubles. the great game of diplomacy had begun. nicholas, for the sake of humiliating france, had allied himself with england, his natural enemy, and had assumed the part of protector of an ottoman integrity which he more than anyone else had tried to destroy! there were to be many strange roles played in this eastern drama--many surprises for christendom; and for nicholas the surprise of a crushing defeat a few years later to which france contributed, possibly in retaliation for this humiliation. the ottoman empire had reached its zenith in under suleyman the magnificent, when, with its eastern frontier in the heart of asia, its european frontier touching russia and austria, it held in its grasp egypt, the northern coast of africa, and almost every city famous in biblical and classical history. then commenced a decline; and when its terrible janizaries were a source of danger instead of defense, when its own sultan was compelled to destroy them in for the protection of his empire, it was only a helpless mass in the throes of dissolution. but turkey as a living and advancing power was less alarming to europe than turkey as a perishing one. lying at the gateway between the east and the west, it occupied the most commanding strategic position in europe. if that position were held by a living instead of a dying power, that power would be master of the continent. no one state would ever be permitted by the rest to reach such an ascendency; and the next alternative of a division of the territory after the manner of poland, was fraught with almost as much danger. the only hope for the peace of europe was to keep in its integrity this crumbling wreck of a wicked, crime-stained old empire. such was the policy now inaugurated by russia, great britain, austria, and prussia; and such in brief is the "eastern question," which for more than half a century has overshadowed all others in european diplomacy, and more than any other has strained the conscience and the moral sense of christian nations. we wish we might say that one nation had been able to resist this invitation to a moral turpitude masked by diplomatic subterfuges. but there is not one. although the question of the balance of power was of importance to all, it was england and russia to whom the interests involved in the eastern question were most vital. every year which made england's indian empire a more important possession also increased the necessity for her having free access to it; while russian policy more and more revolved about an actual and a potential empire in the east. so just because they were natural enemies they became allies, each desiring to tie the other's hands by the principle of ottoman integrity. but daily and noiselessly the russian outposts crept toward the east; first into persia, then stretching out the left hand toward khiva, pressing on through bokhara into chinese territory; and then, with a prescience of coming events which should make western europe tremble before such a subtle instinct for power, russia obtained from the chinese emperor the privilege of establishing at canton a school of instruction where russian youths--prohibited from attending european universities--might learn the chinese language and become familiarized with chinese methods! but this was the sort of instinct that impels a glacier to creep surely toward a lower level. not content with owning half of europe and all of northern asia, the russian glacier was moving noiselessly,--as all things must,--on the line of least resistance, toward the east. the emperor nicholas, who comprehended so well the secret of imperial expansion, and so little understood the expanding qualities within his empire, was an impressive object to look upon. with his colossal stature and his imposing presence, always tightly buttoned in his uniform, he carried with him an air of majesty never to be forgotten if once it was seen. but while he supposed he was extinguishing the living forces and arresting the advancing power of mind in his empire, a new world was maturing beneath the smooth hard surface he had created. the russian intellect, in spite of all, was blossoming from seed scattered long before his time. there were historians, and poets, and romanticists, and classicists, just as in the rest of europe. there were the conservative writers who felt contempt for the west, and for the new, and who believed russia was as much better before ivan iii. than after, as ivan the great was superior to peter the great; and there were pushkin and gogol, and koltsof and turguenief, whom they hated, because their voice was the voice of the new russia. turguenief, who with smothered sense of russia's oppression was then girding himself for his battle with serfdom, says: "my proof used to come back to me from the censor half erased, and stained with red ink like blood. ah! they were painful times!" but in spite of all, russian genius was spreading its wings, and perhaps from this very repression was to come that passionate intensity which makes it so great. chapter xxii in europe--crimean war. the revolution of was only the mild precursor of the one which shook europe to its foundations in . it had centers wherever there were patriots and aching hearts. in paris, louis philippe had fled at the sound of the word republic, and when in paris workmen were waving the national banner of poland, with awakened hope, even that land was quivering with excitement. in vienna the emperor ferdinand, unable to meet the storm, abdicated in favor of his young nephew, francis joseph. hungary, obedient to the voice of her great patriot, louis kossuth, in april, , declared itself free and independent. it was the hungarians who had offered the most encouragement and sympathy to the poles in ; so nicholas determined to make them feel the weight of his hand. upon the pretext that thousands of polish exiles--his subjects--were in the ranks of the insurgents, a russian army marched into hungary. by the following august the revolution was over--thousands of hungarian patriots had died for naught, thousands more had fled to turkey, and still other thousands were suffering from austrian vengeance administered by the terrible general haynau. francis joseph, that gentle and benign sovereign, who sits today upon the throne at vienna, subjected hungary to more cruelties than had been inflicted by nicholas in poland. not only were the germs of nationality destroyed--the constitution and the diet abolished, the national language, church, and institutions effaced; but revolting cruelties and executions continued for years. kossuth, who with a few other leaders, was an exile and a prisoner in asia minor, was freed by the intervention of european sentiment in . the united states government then sent a frigate and conveyed him and his friends to america, where the great hungarian thrilled the people by the magic of his eloquence in their own language, which he had mastered during his imprisonment by means of a bible and a dictionary. it was to russia that austria was indebted for a result so satisfactory. the emperor nicholas returned to st. petersburg, feeling that he had earned the everlasting gratitude of the young ruler francis joseph, little suspecting that he was before long to say of him that "his ingratitude astonished europe." there can be no doubt that the emperor nicholas, while he was, in common with the other powers, professing to desire the preservation of ottoman integrity, had secretly resolved not to leave the eastern question to posterity, but to crown his own reign by its solution in a way favorable to russia. his position was a very strong one. by the treaty of his headship as protector of eastern christendom had been acknowledged. austria was now bound to him irrevocably by the tie of gratitude, and prussia by close family ties and by sympathy. it was only necessary to win over england. in , in a series of private, informal interviews with the english ambassador, he disclosed his plan that there should be a confidential understanding between him and her majesty's government. he said in substance: "england and russia must be friends. never was the necessity greater. if we agree, i have no solicitude about europe. what others think is really of small consequence. i am as desirous as you for the continued existence of the turkish empire. but we have on our hands a sick man--a very sick man: he may suddenly die. is it not the part of prudence for us to come to an understanding regarding what should be done in case of such a catastrophe? it may as well be understood at once that i should never permit an attempt to reconstruct a byzantine empire, and still less should i allow the partition of turkey into small republics--ready-made asylums for kossuths and mazzinis and european revolutionists; and i also tell you very frankly that i should never permit england or any of the powers to have a foothold in constantinople. i am willing to bind myself also not to occupy it--except, perhaps, as a guardian. but i should have no objection to your occupying egypt. i quite understand its importance to your government--and perhaps the island of candia might suit you. i see no objection to that island becoming also an english possession. i do not ask for a treaty--only an understanding; between gentlemen that is sufficient. i have no desire to increase my empire. it is large enough; but i repeat--the sick man is dying; and if we are taken by surprise, if proper precautions are not taken in advance, circumstances may arise which will make it necessary for me to occupy constantinople." it was a bribe, followed by a threat. england coldly declined entering into any stipulations without the concurrence of the other powers. her majesty's government could not be a party to a confidential arrangement from which it was to derive a benefit. the negotiations had failed. nicholas was deeply incensed and disappointed. he could rely, however, upon austria and prussia. he now thought of louis napoleon, the new french emperor, who was looking for recognition in europe. the english ambassador was coldly received, and for the first time since the abdication of charles x., the representative of france received a cordial greeting, and was intrusted with a flattering message to the emperor. but france had not forgotten the retreat from moscow, nor the presence of alexander in paris, nor her attempted ostracism in europe by nicholas himself; and, further, although louis napoleon was pleased with the overtures made to win his friendship, he was not yet quite sure which cause would best promote his own ends. fortunately russia had a grievance against turkey. it was a very small one, but it was useful, and led to one of the most exciting crises in the history of europe. it was a question of the possession of the holy shrines at bethlehem and other places which tradition associates with the birth and death of jesus christ; and whether the latin or the greek monks had the right to the key of the great door of the church at bethlehem, and the right to place a silver star over the grotto where our saviour was born. the sultan had failed to carry out his promises in adjusting these disputed points. and all europe trembled when the great prince menschikof, with imposing suite and threatening aspect, appeared at constantinople, demanding immediate settlement of the dispute. turkey was paralyzed with fright, until england sent her great diplomatist lord stratford de redcliffe--and france hers, m. de lacour. no simpler question was ever submitted to more distinguished consideration or was watched with more breathless interest by five sovereigns and their cabinets. in a few days all was settled--the questions of the shrines and of the possession of the key of the great door of the church at bethlehem were happily adjusted. there were only a few "business details" to arrange, and the episode would be closed. but the trouble was not over. hidden away among the "business details" was the germ of a great war. the emperor of russia "felt obliged to demand guarantees, formal and positive," assuring the security of the greek christians in the sultan's dominions. he had been constituted the protector of christianity in the turkish empire, and demanded this by virtue of that authority. the sultan, strengthened now by the presence of the english and french ambassadors, absolutely refused to give such guarantee, appealing to the opinion of the world to sustain him in resisting such a violation of his independence and of his rights. in vain did lord stratford exchange notes and conferences with count nesselrode and prince menschikof and the grand vizier and exhaust all the arts and powers of the most skilled diplomacy. in july, , the russian troops had invaded turkish territory, and a french and english fleet soon after had crossed the dardanelles,--no longer closed to the enemies of russia,--had steamed by constantinople, and was in the bosphorus. austria joined england and france in a defensive though not an offensive alliance, and prussia held entirely aloof from the conflict. nicholas had failed in all his calculations. in vain had he tried to lure england into a secret compact by the offer of egypt--in vain had he preserved hungary to austria--in vain sought to attach prussia to himself by acts of friendship; and his nemesis was pursuing him, avenging a long series of affronts to france. unsupported by a single nation, he was at war with three; and after a brilliant reign of twenty-eight years unchecked by a single misfortune, he was about to die, leaving to his empire the legacy of a disastrous war, which was to end in defeat and humiliation. but a strange thing had happened. for a thousand years europe had been trying to drive mohammedanism out of the continent. no sacrifice had been considered too great if it would help to rid christendom of that great iniquity. now the turkish empire,--the spiritual heir and center of this old enemy,--no less vicious--no less an offense to the instincts of christendom than before, was on the brink of extermination. it would have been a surprise to richard the lion-hearted, and to louis ix. the saint, if they could have foreseen what england and france would do eight hundred years later when such a crisis arrived! while the sultan in the name of the prophet was appealing to all the passions of a mad fanaticism to arise and "drive out the foreign infidels who were assailing their holy faith"--there was in england an enthusiasm for his defense as splendid as if the cause were a righteous one. it is not a simple thing to carry a bark deeply loaded with treasure safely through swift and tortuous currents. england was loaded to the water's edge with treasure. her hope was in that sunken wreck of an empire which fate had moored at the gateway leading to her eastern dominions, and what she most feared in this world was its removal. as a matter of state policy, she may have followed the only course which was open to her; but viewed from a loftier standpoint, it was a compromise with unrighteousness when she joined hands with the "great assassin" and poured out the blood of her sons to keep him unharmed. for fifty years that compromise has embarrassed her policy, and still continues to soil her fair name. in the war of the crimea, england, no less than russia, was fighting, not for the avowed, but unavowed object. but frankness is not one of the virtues required by diplomacy, so perhaps of that we have no right to complain. on the th of january, , the allied fleets entered the black sea. the emperor nicholas, from his palace in st. petersburg, watched the progress of events. he saw menschikof vainly measuring swords with lord raglan at odessa (april ); then the overwhelming defeat at the alma (september ); then the sinking of the russian fleet to protect sebastopol, about which the battle was to rage until the end of the war. he saw the invincible courage of his foe in that immortal act of valor, the cavalry charge at balaklava (november ), in obedience to an order wise when it was given, but useless and fatal when it was received--of which someone made the oft-repeated criticism--"_c'est magnifique--mais ce n'est pas la guerre_." and then he saw the power to endure during that awful winter, when the elements and official mismanagement were fighting for him, and when more english troops were perishing from cold and neglect than had been killed by russian shot and shell. but the immense superiority of the armies of the allies could not be doubted. his troops, vanquished at every point, were hopelessly beleagured in sebastopol. the majesty of his empire was on every side insulted, his ports in every sea blockaded. never before had he tasted the bitterness of defeat and humiliation. europe had bowed down before him as the agamemnon among kings. he had saved austria; had protected prussia; he had made france feel the weight of his august displeasure. wherever autocracy had been insulted, there he had been its champion and striven to be its restorer. but ever since there had been something in the air unsuited to his methods. he was the incarnation of an old principle in a new world. it was time for him to depart. his day had been a long and splendid one, but it was passing amid clouds and darkness. a successful autocrat is quite a different person from an unsuccessful one. nicholas had been seen in the shining light of invincibility. but a sudden and terrible awakening had come. the nation, stung by repeated defeats, was angry. a flood of anonymous literature was scattered broadcast, arraigning the emperor--the administration--the ministers--the diplomats--the generals. "slaves, arise!" said one, "and stand erect before the despot. we have been kept long enough in serfage to the successors of tatar khans." the tsar grew gloomy and silent. "my successor," he said, "may do what he likes. i cannot change." when he saw austria at last actually in alliance with his enemies he was sorely shaken. but it was the voice of bitter reproach and hatred from his hitherto silent people which shook his iron will and broke his heart. he no longer desired to live. while suffering from an influenza he insisted upon going out in the intense cold without his greatcoat and reviewing his guards. five days later he dictated the dispatch which was sent to every city in russia: "the emperor is dying." chapter xxiii liberalism--emancipation of serfs when his life and the hard-earned conquests of centuries were together slipping away, the dying emperor said to his son: "all my care has been to leave russia safe without and prosperous within. but you see how it is. i am dying, and i leave you a burden which will be hard to bear." alexander ii., the young man upon whom fell these responsibilities, was thirty-seven years old. his mother was princess charlotte of prussia, sister of the late emperor william, who succeeded to the throne of prussia, left vacant by his brother in . his first words to his people were a passionate justification of his father,--"of blessed memory,"--his aims and purposes, and a solemn declaration that he should remain true to his line of conduct, which "god and history would vindicate." it was a man of ordinary flesh and blood promising to act like a man of steel. his own nature and the circumstances of his realm both forbade it. the man on the throne could not help listening attentively to the voice of the people. there must be peace. the country was drained of men and of money. there were not enough peasants left to till the fields. the landed proprietors with their serfs in the ranks were ruined, and had not money with which to pay the taxes, upon which the prosecution of a hopeless war depended. victor emmanuel had joined the allies with a sardinian army; and the french, by a tremendous onslaught, had captured malakof, the key to the situation in the crimea. prince gortchakof, who had replaced prince menschikof, was only able to cover a retreat with a mantle of glory. the end had come. a treaty of peace was signed march , . russia renounced the claim of an exclusive protectorate over the turkish provinces, yielded the free navigation of the danube, left turkey the roumanian principalities, and, hardest of all, she lost the control of the black sea. its waters were forbidden to men-of-war of all nations; no arsenals, military or maritime, to exist upon its shores. the fruits of russian policy since peter the great were annihilated, and the work of two centuries of progress was canceled. who and what was to blame for these calamities? why was it that the russian army could successfully compete with turks and asiatics, and not with europeans? the reason began to be obvious, even to stubborn russian conservatives. a nation, in order to compete in war in this age, must have a grasp upon the arts of peace. an army drawn from a civilized nation is a more effective instrument than one drawn from a barbarous one. the time had passed when there might be a few highly educated and subtle intelligences thinking for millions of people in brutish ignorance. the time had arrived when it must be recognized that russia was not made for a few great and powerful people, for whom the rest, an undistinguishable mass, must toil and suffer. in other words, it must be a nation--and not a dynasty nourished by misery and supported by military force. men high in rank no longer flaunted their titles and insignia of office. they shrank from drawing attention to their share of responsibility in the great calamity, and listened almost humbly to the suggestions of liberal leaders, suggestions which, a few months ago, none dared whisper except behind closed doors. a new literature sprang into life, unrebuked, dealing with questions of state policy with a fearless freedom never before dreamed of. conservative russia had suddenly vanished under a universal conviction that the hope of their nation was in liberalism. the emperor recalled from siberia the exiles of the conspiracy of , and also the polish exiles of . there was an honest effort made to reform the wretched judicial system and to adopt the methods which western experience had found were the best. the obstructions to european influences were removed, and all joined hands in an effort to devise means of bringing the whole people up to a higher standard of intelligence and well-being. russia was going to be regenerated. men, in a rapture of enthusiasm and with tears, embraced each other on the streets. one wrote: "the heart trembles with joy. russia is like a stranded ship which the captain and the crew are powerless to move; now there is to be a rising tide of national life which will raise and float it." such was the prevailing public sentiment in , when emperor alexander affixed his name to the measure which was going to make it forever glorious--the emancipation of over twenty-three million human beings from serfdom. it would require another volume to tell even in outline the wrongs and sufferings of this class, upon whom at last rested the prosperity and even the life of the nation, who, absolutely subject to the will of one man, might at his pleasure be conscripted for military service for a term of from thirty to forty years, or at his displeasure might be sent to siberia to work in the mines for life; and who, in no place or at no time, had protection from any form of cruelty which the greed of the proprietor imposed upon them. selling the peasants without the land, unsanctioned by law, became sanctioned by custom, until finally its right was recognized by imperial ukases, so that serfdom, which in theory presented a mild exterior, was in practice and in fact a terrible and unmitigated form of human slavery. patriarchalism has a benignant sound--it is better than something that is worse! it is a step upward from a darker quagmire of human condition. when peter the great, with his terrible broom, swept all the free peasants into the same mass with the unfree serfs, and when he established the empire upon a chain of service to be rendered to the nobility by the peasantry, and then to the state by the nobility, he simply applied to the whole state the slavonic principle existing in the social unit--the family. and while he was europeanizing the surface, he was completing a structure of paternalism, which was asiatic and incompatible with its new garment--an incongruity which in time must bring disorder, and compel radical and difficult reforms. to remove a foundation stone is a delicate and difficult operation. it needed courage of no ordinary sort to break up this serfdom encrusted with tyrannies. it was a gigantic social experiment, the results of which none could foresee. alexander's predecessors had thought and talked of it, but had not dared to try it. now the time was ripe, and the man on the throne had the nerve required for its execution. the means by which this revolution was effected may be briefly described in a sentence. the crown purchased from the proprietors the land--with the peasants attached to it, and then bestowed the land upon the peasants with the condition that for forty-five years they should pay to the crown six per cent. interest upon the amount paid by it for the land. it was the commune or _mir_ which accepted the land and assumed the obligation and the duty of seeing that every individual paid his annual share of rental (or interest money) upon the land within his inclosure, which was supposed to be sufficient for his own maintenance and the payment of the government tax. these simple people, who had been dreaming of emancipation for years, as a vague promise of relief from sorrow, heard with astonishment that now they were expected to pay for their land! had it not always belonged to them? the slavonic idea of ownership of land through labor was the only one of which they could conceive, and it had survived through all the centuries of serfdom, when they were accustomed to say: "we are yours, but the land is ours." instead of twenty-five million people rejoicing with grateful hearts, there was a ferment of discontent and in some places uprisings--one peasant leader telling ten thousand who rose at his call that the emancipation law was a forgery, they were being deceived and not permitted to enjoy what the tsar, their "little father," had intended for their happiness. but considering the intricate difficulties attending such a tremendous change in the social conditions, the emancipation was easily effected and the russian peasants, by the survival of their old patriarchal institutions, were at once provided with a complete system of local self-government in which the ancient slavonic principle was unchanged. at the head of the commune or _mir_ was the elder, a group of communes formed a _volost_, and the head of the _volost_ was responsible for the peace and order of the community. to this was later added the _zemstvo_ a representative assembly of peasants, for the regulation of local matters. such a new reign of clemency awakened hope in poland that it too might share these benefits. first it was a constitution such as had been given to hungary for which they prayed. then, as italy was emancipating herself, they grew bolder, and, incited by societies of polish exiles, all over europe, demanded more: that they be given independence. again the hope of a polo-lithuanian alliance, and a recovery of the lost polish provinces in the ukraine, and the reestablishment of an independent kingdom of poland, dared to assert itself, and to invite a more complete destruction. the liberal russians might have sympathized with the first moderate demand, but when by the last there was an attempt made upon the integrity of russia, there was but one voice in the empire. so cruel and so vindictive was the punishment of the poles, by liberals and conservatives alike, that europe at last in protested. the polish language and even alphabet were prohibited. every noble in the land had been involved in this last conspiracy. they were ordered to sell their lands, and all poles were forbidden to be its purchasers. nothing of poland was left which could ever rise again. chapter xxiv turco-russian war--treaty of berlin liberalism had received a check. in this outburst of severity, used to repress the free instincts of a once great nation, the temper of the russian people had undergone a change. the warmth and ardor were chilled. the emperor's grasp tightened. some even thought that finland ought to be russianized precisely as poland had been; but convinced of its loyalty, the grand principality was spared, and the privileges so graciously bestowed by alexander the first were confirmed. while the political reforms had been checked by the polish insurrection, there was an enormous advance in everything making for material prosperity. railways and telegraph-wires, and an improved postal service, connected all the great cities in the empire, so that there was rapid and regular communication with each other and all the world. factories were springing up, mines were working, and trade and production and arts and literature were all throbbing with a new life. in , at the conclusion of the franco-prussian war, the emperor alexander saw his uncle william the first crowned emperor of a united germany at paris. the approval and the friendship of russia at this crisis were essential to the new german empire as well as to france. gortchakof, the russian chancellor, saw his opportunity. he intimated to the powers the intention of russia to resume its privileges in the black sea, and after a brief diplomatic correspondence the powers formally abrogated the neutralization of those waters; and russia commenced to rebuild her ruined forts and to re-establish her naval power in the south. there had commenced to exist those close ties between the russian and other reigning families which have made european diplomacy seem almost like a family affair--although in reality exercising very little influence upon it. alexander himself was the son of one of these alliances, and had married a german princess of the house of hesse. in his son alexander married princess dagmar, daughter of christian ix., king of denmark, and in he gave his daughter marie in marriage to queen victoria's second son alfred, duke of edinburgh. it was in the following year ( ) that lord beaconsfield took advantage of a financial crisis in turkey, and a financial stringency in egypt, to purchase of the khedive his half-interest in the suez canal for the sum of $ , , , which gave to england the ownership of nearly nine-tenths of that important link in the waterway leading direct to her empire in india. during all the years since , there was one subject which had been constantly upper-most in the mind of england; and that one subject was the one above all others which her prime minister tried to make people forget. it was perfectly well known when one after another of the balkan states revolted against the turk--first herzegovina, then montenegro, then bosnia--that they were suffering the cruelest oppression, and that not one of the sultan's promises made to the powers in had been kept. but in no one could any longer feign ignorance. an insignificant outbreak in bulgaria took place. in answer to a telegram sent to constantinople a body of improvised militia, called bashi-bazuks, was sent to manage the affair after its own fashion. the burning of seventy villages; the massacre of fifteen thousand--some say forty thousand--people, chiefly women and children, with attendant details too revolting to narrate; the subsequent exposure of bulgarian maidens for sale at philippopolis--all this at last secured attention. pamphlets, newspaper articles, speeches, gave voice to the horror of the english people. lord stratford de redcliffe, gladstone, john bright, carlyle, freeman, made powerful arraignments of the government which was the supporter and made england the accomplice of turkey in this crime. however much we may suspect the sincerity of russia's solicitude regarding her co-religionists in the east, it must be admitted that the preservation of her faith has always been treated--long before the existence of the eastern question--as the most vital in her policy. in every alliance, every negotiation, every treaty, it was the one thing that never was compromised; and greek christianity certainly holds a closer and more mystic relation to the government of russia than the catholic or protestant faiths do to those of other lands. russia girded herself to do what the best sentiment in england had in vain demanded. she declared war against turkey in support of the oppressed provinces of servia, herzegovina, and montenegro. in the month of april, , the russian army crossed the frontier. then came the capture of nikopolis, the repulse at plevna, the battle of shipka pass, another and successful battle of plevna, the storming of kars, and then, the balkans passed,--an advance upon constantinople. on the th of january the last shot was fired. the ottoman empire had been shaken into submission, and was absolutely at the mercy of the tsar, who dictated the following terms: the erection of bulgaria into an autonomous tributary principality, with a native christian government; the independence of montenegro, roumania, and servia; a partial autonomy in bosnia and herzegovina, besides a strip of territory upon the danube and a large war indemnity for russia. such were the terms of the treaty of san stefano, signed in march, . to the undiplomatic mind this seems a happy conclusion of a vexed question. the balkan states were independent--or partially so; and the ottoman empire, although so shorn and shaken as to be innocuous, still remained as a dismantled wreck to block the passage to the east. but to beaconsfield and bismarck and andrassy, and the other plenipotentiaries who hastened to berlin in june for conference, it was a very indiscreet proceeding, and must all be done over. gortchakof was compelled to relinquish the advantages gained by russia. bulgaria was cut into three pieces, one of which was handed to the sultan, another made tributary to him, the third to be autonomous under certain restrictions. montenegro and servia were recognized as independent, bosnia and herzegovina were given to austria; bessarabia, lost by the results of the crimean war, was now returned to russia, together with territory about and adjacent to kars. most important of all--the turkish empire was revitalized and restored to a position of stability and independence by the friendly powers! so by the treaty of berlin england had acquired the island of cyprus, and had compelled russia, after immense sacrifice of blood and treasure, to relinquish her own gains and to subscribe to the line of policy which she desired. a costly and victorious war had been nullified by a single diplomatic battle at berlin. the pride of russia was deeply wounded. it was openly said that the congress was an outrage upon russian sensibilities--that "russian diplomacy was more destructive than nihilism." emperor alexander had reached the meridian of his popularity in those days of promised reforms, before the polish insurrection came to chill the currents of his soul. for a long time the people would not believe he really intended to disappoint their hope; but when one reform after another was recalled, when one severe measure after another was enacted, and when he surrounded himself with conservative advisers and influences, it was at last recognized that the single beneficent act history would have to record in this reign would be that one act of . and now his prestige was dimmed and his popularity still more diminished by such a signal diplomatic defeat at berlin. chapter xxv alexander ii. assassinated--nihilism the emancipation had been a disappointment to its promoters and to the serfs themselves. it was an appalling fact that year after year the death-rate had alarmingly increased, and its cause was--starvation. in lands the richest in the world, tilled by a people with a passion for agriculture, there was not enough bread! the reasons for this are too complex to be stated here, but a few may have brief mention. the allotment of land bestowed upon each liberated serf was too small to enable him to live and to pay his taxes, unless the harvests were always good and he was always employed. he need not live, but his taxes must be paid. it required three days' work out of each week to do that; and if he had not the money when the dreaded day arrived, the tax-collector might sell his corn, his cattle, his farming implements, and his house. but reducing whole communities to beggary was not wise, so a better way was discovered, and one which entailed no disastrous economic results. he was flogged. the time selected for this settling of accounts was when the busy season was over; and stepniak tells us it was not an unusual thing for more than one thousand peasants in the winter--in a single commune--to be seen awaiting their turn to have their taxes "flogged out." of course, before this was endured all means had been exhausted for raising the required amount. usury, that surest road to ruin, and the one offering the least resistance, was the one ordinarily followed. thus was created that destructive class called _koulaks_, or _mir-eaters_, who, while they fattened upon the necessities of the peasantry, also demoralized the state by creating a wealthy and powerful class whom it would not do to offend, and whose abominable and nefarious interests must not be interfered with. then another sort of bondage was discovered, one very nearly approaching to serfdom. wealthy proprietors would make loans to distressed communes or to individuals, the interest of the money to be paid by the peasants in a stipulated number of days' work every week until the original amount was returned. sometimes, by a clause in the contract increasing the amount in case of failure to pay at a certain time, the original debt, together with the accruing interest, would be four or five times doubled. and if, as was probable, the principal never was returned, the peasant worked on year after year gratuitously, in the helpless, hopeless bondage of debt. nor were these the worst of their miseries, for there were the _tchinovniks_--or government officials--who could mete out any punishment they pleased, could order a whole community to be flogged, or at any moment invoke the aid of a military force or even lend it to private individuals for the subjugation of refractory peasants. and this was what they had been waiting and hoping for, for two centuries and a half! but with touching loyalty not one of them thought of blaming the tsar. their "little father," if he only knew about it, would make everything right. it was the nobility, the wicked nobility, that had brought all this misery upon them and cheated them out of their happiness! they hated the nobility for stealing from them their freedom and their land; and the nobility hated them for not being prosperous and happy, and for bringing famine and misery into the state, which had been so kind and had emancipated them. as these conditions became year after year more aggravated acute minds in russia were employed in trying to solve the great social problems they presented. in a land in which the associative principle was indigenous, _socialism_ was a natural and inevitable growth. then, exasperated by the increasing miseries of the peasantry, maddened by the sufferings of political exiles in siberia, there came into existence that word of dire significance in russia--_nihilism_, and following quickly upon that, its logical sequence--_anarchism_, which, if it could, would destroy all the fruits of civilization. it was turguenief who first applied the ancient term "nihilist" to a certain class of radical thinkers in russia, whose theory of society, like that of the eighteenth-century philosophers in france, was based upon a negation of the principle of authority. all institutions, social and political, however disguised, were tyrannies, and must go. in the newly awakened russian mind, this first assumed the mild form of a demand for the removal of _legislative_ tyranny, by a system of gradual reforms. this had failed--now the demand had become a mandate. the people _must_ have relief. the tsar was the one person who could bestow it, and if he would not do so voluntarily, he must be compelled to grant it. no one man had the right to wreck the happiness of millions of human beings. if the authority was centralized, so was the responsibility. alexander's entire reign had been a curse--and emancipation was a delusion and a lie. he must yield or perish. this vicious and degenerate organization had its center in a highly educated middle class, where men with nineteenth-century intelligence and aspirations were in frenzied revolt against methods suited to the time of the khans. the inspiring motive was not love of the people, but hatred of their oppressors. appeals to the peasantry brought small response, but the movement was eagerly joined by men and women from the highest ranks in russia. secret societies and organizations were everywhere at work, recruited by misguided enthusiasts, and by human suffering from all classes. wherever there were hearts bruised and bleeding from official cruelty, in whatever ranks, there the terrible propaganda found sympathizers, if not a home; men--and still more, women--from the highest families in the nobility secretly pledging themselves to the movement, until russian society was honeycombed with conspiracy extending even to the household of the tsar. proclamations were secretly issued calling upon the peasantry to arise. in spite of the vigilance of the police, similar invitations to all the russian people were posted in conspicuous places--"we are tired of famine, tired of having our sons perish upon the gallows, in the mines, or in exile. russia demands liberty; and if she cannot have liberty--she will have vengeance!" such was the tenor of the threats which made the life of emperor alexander a miserable one after . he had done what not one of his predecessors had been willing to do. he had, in the face of the bitterest opposition, bestowed the gift of freedom upon , , human beings. in his heart he believed he deserved the good-will and the gratitude of his subjects. how gladly would he have ruled over a happy empire! but what could he do? he had absolute power to make his people miserable--but none to make them happy. it was not his fault that he occupied a throne which could only be made secure by a policy of stern repression. it was not his fault that he ruled through a system so elementary, so crude, so utterly inadequate, that to administer justice was an impossibility. nor was it his fault that he had inherited autocratic instincts from a long line of ancestors. in other words, it was not his fault that he was the tsar of russia! the grim shadow of assassination pursued him wherever he went. in the imperial train was destroyed by mines placed beneath the tracks. in the imperial apartments in "the winterhof" were partially wrecked by similar means. seventeen men marched stolidly to the gallows, regretting nothing except the failure of their crime; and hundreds more who were implicated in the plot were sent into perpetual exile in siberia. the hand never relaxed--nor was the constitution demanded by these atrocious means granted. on the th of march, , while the emperor was driving, a bomb was thrown beneath his carriage. he stepped out of the wreck unhurt. then as he approached the assassin, who had been seized by the police, another was thrown. alexander fell to the ground, exclaiming, "help me!" terribly mutilated, but conscious, the dying emperor was carried into his palace, and there in a few hours he expired. in the splendid obsequies of the tsar, nothing was more touching than the placing of a wreath upon his bier by a deputation of peasants. it can be best described in their own words. the emperor was lying in the cathedral wrapped in a robe of ermine, beneath a canopy of gold and silver cloth lined with ermine. "at last we were inside the church," says the narrative. "we all dropped on our knees and sobbed, our tears flowing like a stream. oh, what grief! we rose from our knees, again we knelt, and again we sobbed. this did we three times, our hearts breaking beside the coffin of our benefactor. there are no words to express it. and what honor was done us! the general took our wreath, and placed it straightway upon the breast of our little father. our peasants' wreath laid on his heart, his martyr breast--as we were in all his life nearest to his heart! seeing this we burst again into tears. then the general let us kiss his hand--and there he lay, our tsar-martyr, with a calm, loving expression on his face--as if he, our little father, had fallen asleep." if anything had been needed to make the name nihilism forever odious, it was this deed. if anything were required to reveal the bald wickedness of the creed of nihilism, it was supplied by this aimless sacrifice of the one sovereign who had bestowed a colossal reform upon russia. they had killed him, and had then marched unflinchingly to the gallows--and that was all--leaving others bound by solemn oaths to bring the same fate upon his successor. the whole energy of the organization was centered in secreting dynamite, awaiting a favorable moment for its explosion, then dying like martyrs, leaving others pledged to repeat the same horror--and so _ad infinitum_. in their detestation of one crime they committed a worse one. they conspired against the life of civilization--as if it were not better to be ruled by despots than assassins, as if a bad government were not better than none! the existence of nihilism may be explained, though not extenuated. can anyone estimate the effect upon a single human being to have known that a father, brother, son, sister, or wife has perished under the knout? could such a person ever again be capable of reasoning calmly or sanely upon "political reforms"? if there were any slumbering tiger-instincts in this half-asiatic people, was not this enough to awaken them? there were many who had suffered this, and there were thousands more who at that very time had friends, lovers, relatives, those dearer to them than life, who were enduring day by day the tortures of exile, subject to the brutal punishments of irresponsible officials. it was this which had converted hundreds of the nobility into conspirators--this which had made sophia perovskaya, the daughter of one of the highest officials in the land, give the signal for the murder of the emperor, and then, scorning mercy, insist that she should have the privilege of dying upon the gallows with the rest. but tiger-instincts, whatever their cause, must be extinguished. they cannot coexist with civilization. human society as constituted to-day can recognize no excuse for them. it forbids them--and the nihilist is the ishmael of the nineteenth century. the world was not surprised, and perhaps not even displeased, when alexander iii. showed a dogged determination not to be coerced into reforms by the assassination of his father nor threats of his own. his coronation, long deferred by the tragedy which threatened to attend it, finally took place with great splendor at moscow in . he then withdrew to his palace at gatschina, where he remained practically a prisoner. embittered by the recollection of the fate of his father, who had died in his arms, and haunted by conspiracies for the destruction of himself and his family, he was probably the least happy man in his empire. his every act was a protest against the spirit of reform. the privileges so graciously bestowed upon the grand duchy of finland by alexander i. were for the first time invaded. literature and the press were placed under rigorous censorship. the _zemstvo_, his father's gift of local self-government to the liberated serfs, was practically withdrawn by placing that body under the control of the nobility. [illustration: the coronation of the czar alexander iii., . the emperor crowning the empress at the church of the assumption. from a drawing by edwin b. child.] it was a stern, joyless reign, without one act intended to make glad the hearts of the people. the depressing conditions in which he lived gradually undermined the health of the emperor. he was carried in dying condition to livadia, and there, surrounded by his wife and his children, he expired november , . chapter xxvi finland--hague tribunal--political conditions when nicholas ii., the gentle-faced young son of alexander, came to the throne there were hopes that a new era for russia was about to commence. there has been nothing yet to justify that hope. the austere policy pursued by his father has not been changed. the recent decree which has brought grief and dismay into finland is not the act of a liberal sovereign! a forcible russification of that state has been ordered, and the press in finland has been prohibited from censuring the _ukase_ which has brought despair to the hearts and homes of the people. the russian language has been made obligatory in the university of helsingfors and in the schools, together with other severe measures pointing unmistakably to a purpose of effacing the finnish nationality--a nationality, too, which has never by disloyalty or insurrection merited the fate of poland. but if this has struck a discordant note, the invitation to a conference of the nations with a view to a general disarmament has been one of thrilling and unexpected sweetness and harmony. whether the peace congress at the hague ( ) does or does not arrive at important immediate results, its existence is one of the most significant facts of modern times. it is the first step on the way to that millennial era of universal peace toward which a perfected christian civilization must eventually lead us, and it remained for an autocratic tsar of russia to sound the call and to be the leader in this movement. at the death-bed of his father, nicholas was betrothed to a princess of the house of hesse, whose mother was princess alice, daughter of queen victoria. upon her marriage this anglo-german princess was compelled to make a public renunciation of her own faith, and to accept that of her imperial consort--the orthodox faith of russia. the personal traits of the emperor seem so exemplary that, if he fails to meet the heroic needs of the hour, the world is disposed not to reproach him, but rather to feel pity for the young ruler who has had thrust upon him such an insoluble problem. his character recalls somewhat that of his great-uncle alexander i. we see the same vague aspiration after grand ideals, and the same despotic methods in dealing with things in the concrete. no general amnesty attended his coronation, no act of clemency has been extended to political exiles. men and women whose hairs have whitened in siberia have not been recalled--not one thing done to lighten the awful load of anguish in his empire. it may have been unreasonable to have looked for reforms; but certainly it was not too much to expect mercy! what one man could reform russia? who could reform a volcano? there are frightful energies beneath that adamantine surface--energies which have been confined by a rude, imperfectly organized system of force; a chain-work of abuses roughly welded together as occasion required. it is a system created by emergencies,--improvised, not grown,--in which to remove a single abuse endangers the whole. when the imprisoned forces tried to escape at one spot, more force was applied and more bands and more rivets brutally held them down, and were then retained as a necessary part of the whole. on the surface is absolutism in glittering completeness, and beneath that--chaos. lying at the bottom of that chaos is the great mass of slavonic people undeveloped as children--an embryonic civilization--utterly helpless and utterly miserable. in the mass lying above that exists the mind of russia--through which course streams of unduly developed intelligence in fierce revolt against the omnipresence of misery. and still above that is the shining, enameled surface rivaling that of any other nation in splendor. the emperor may say with a semblance of truth _l'état c'est moi_, but although he may combine in himself all the functions, judicial, legislative, and executive, no channels have been supplied, no finely organized system provided for conveying that triple stream to the extremities. the living currents at the top have never reached the mass at the bottom--that despised but necessary soil in which the prosperity of the empire is rooted. there has been no vital interchange between the separated elements, which have been in contact, but not in union. and russia is as heterogeneous in condition as it is in elements. it has accepted ready-made the methods of greek, of tatar, and of european; but has assimilated none of them; and russian civilization, with its amazing quality, its bewildering variety of achievement in art, literature, diplomacy, and in every field, is not a natural development, but a monstrosity. the genius intended for a whole people seems to have been crowded into a few narrow channels. where have men written with such tragic intensity? where has there been music suggesting such depths of sadness and of human passion? and who has ever told upon canvas the story of the battlefield with such energy and with such thrilling reality, as has verestchagin? the youngest among the civilizations, and herself still only partially civilized, russia is one of the most--if not the most--important factor in the world-problem to-day, and the one with which the future seems most seriously involved. she has only just commenced to draw upon her vast stores of energy; energies which were accumulating during the ages when the other nations were lavishly spending theirs. how will this colossal force be used in the future? moving silently and irresistibly toward the east, and guided by a subtle and far-reaching policy, who can foresee what will be the end, and what the ultimate destiny of the empire which had its beginning in a small slavonic state upon the dnieper, and which, until a little more than a century ago, was too much of a barbarian to be admitted into the fraternity of european states. the farthest removed from us in political ideals, russia has in the various crises in our national life always been america's truest friend. when others apparently nearer have failed us, she has stood steadfastly by us. we can never forget it. owning a large portion of the earth's surface, rich beyond calculation in all that makes for national wealth and prosperity, with a peasantry the most confiding, the most loyal, the most industrious in the world, with intellectual power and genius in abundant measure, and with pride of race and a patriotism profound and intense, what more does russia need? only three things--that cruelty be abandoned; that she be made a homogeneous nation; and that she be permitted to live under a government capable of administering justice to her people. these she must have and do. in the coming century there will be no place for barbarism. there will be something in the air which will make it impossible that a great part of a frozen continent shall be dedicated to the use of suffering human beings, kept there by the will of one man. there will be something in the air which will forbid cruelty and compel mercy and justice, and which will make men or nations feign those virtues if they have them not. the antagonism between england and russia has a deeper significance than appears on the surface. it is not the eastern question, not the control of constantinople, not the obtaining of concessions from china which is at stake. it is the question which of two principles shall prevail. the one represented by a despotism in which the people have no part, or the one represented by a system of government through which the will of the people freely acts. there can be but one result in such a conflict, one answer to such a question. the eternal purposes are writ too large in the past to mistake them. and it is the ardent hope of america that russia--that empire which has so generously accorded us her friendship in our times of peril--may not by cataclysm from within, but of her own volition, place herself fully in line with the ideals of an advanced civilization. supplement to short history of russia from rurik to nicholas iii. the policy of russia has been determined by its thirst for the sea. every great struggle in the life of this colossal land-locked empire has had for its ultimate object the opening of a door to the ocean, from which nature has ingeniously excluded it. in the first centuries of its existence rurik and his descendants were incessantly hurling themselves against the door leading to the mediterranean. but the door would not yield. then ivan iv. and his descendants, with no greater success, hammered at the door leading to the west. the thirst growing with defeat became a national instinct. when peter the great first looked out upon the sea, at archangel, and when he created that miniature navy upon the black sea, and when he dragged his capital from "holy moscow" to the banks of the neva, planting it upon that submerged tract, he was impelled by the same instinct which is to-day making history in the far east. it was in that yermak, the cossack robber and pirate, under sentence of death, won a pardon from ivan iv. ("the terrible") in exchange for siberia--that unknown region stretching across the continent of asia to the pacific. eight hundred cossacks under the daring outlaw had sufficed to drive the scattered asiatic tribes before them and to establish the sovereignty of yermak, who then gladly exchanged his prize with the "orthodox tsar" for his "traitorous head." it was the tremendous energy of one man, muraviev, which led to the development of eastern siberia. pathfinder and pioneer in the march across the asiatic continent, drawing settlers after him as he moved along, he reached the mouth of the amur river in , and, at last, the empire possessed a naval station upon the pacific, which was named nikolaifsk, after the reigning tsar, nicholas i. it was this tsar, great-grandfather of nicholas ii., who, grimly turning his back upon western europe, set the face of russia toward the east, reversing the direction which has always been the course of empire. what had russia to gain from alliances in the west? her future was in the east; and he intended to drive back the tide of europeanism which his predecessors had so industriously invited. russian youths were prohibited from being educated in western universities, and at the same time there was established at canton a school of instruction where they might learn the chinese language and the methods and spirit of chinese civilization. it was a determined purpose to orientalize his empire. and violating all the traditions of history, the flight of the russian eagle from that moment was toward the rising, not the setting sun. muraviev, now governor of the eastern provinces of siberia, was empowered to negotiate a treaty with china to determine the rights of the two nations upon the river amur, which separated manchuria, the northernmost province of china, from russian siberia. the treaty, which was concluded in , conceded the left bank of this river to russia. nikolaifsk, a great part of the year sealed up with ice, was only a stepping-stone for the next advance southward. from the mouth of the amur to the frontier of korea there was a strip of territory lying between the sea on the east and the ussuri river on the west, which to the russian mind, at that time, seemed an ideal possession. how it was accomplished it is needless to say; but china reluctantly agreed that there should be for a time a joint occupation of this strip, and, in , needing russia's friendship, it was unconditionally bestowed. the "ussuri region" was now transformed into the "_maritime provinces of siberia_," and the russian empire, by the stroke of a pen, had moved ten degrees toward the south. vladivostok, at the southern extremity of the new province, was founded in , and in made chief naval station on the eastern coast, in place of nikolaifsk. but the prize obtained after such expenditure of effort and diplomacy was far from satisfactory. of what use was a naval station which was not only ice-bound half the year but from which, even when ice-free, it was impossible for ships to reach the open sea except by passing through narrow gateways controlled by japan? how to overcome these obstacles, how to circumvent nature in her persistent effort to imprison her--this was the problem set for russian diplomacy to solve. the eastern slice of manchuria, which now had become the "maritime province of siberia," was a pleasant morsel, six hundred miles long. but there was a still more desired strip lying in the sun south of it--a peninsula jutting out into the sea, the extreme southern end of which (port arthur) was ideally situated for strategic purposes, commanding as it does the gulf of pechili, the gulf of liao-tung and the yellow sea. who could tell what might happen? china was in an unstable condition. her integrity was threatened. england, france and germany, quickly following russia's lead in the ussuri strip, had already wrung privileges from her. circumstances might any day justify russia's occupation of the entire peninsula. she could afford to wait. and while she waited she was not idle. the post-road across asia was no longer adequate for the larger plans developing in the east; so the construction of a railway was planned to span the distance between moscow and vladivostok. at a point beyond lake baikal the river amur makes a sudden detour, sweeping far toward the north before it again descends, thus enclosing a large bit of manchuria in a form not unlike the state of michigan. many miles of the projected road might be saved by crossing the diameter of this semi-circle and moving in a straight line to vladivostok, across chinese territory. it did not seem wise at this time to ask such a privilege, the patience of china being already strained by the matter of the ussuri strip, that much-harassed country being also suspicious of the railroad itself. so with consummate tact russia proceeded to build the road from the two extremities, leaving this gap to be adjusted by time and circumstances. she had not to wait long. in an unexpected event altered the whole face of the problem. war was declared between china and japan. the three oriental nations involved in this dispute--china, japan and korea--offer three distinct and strongly contrasting types coming out of the mysterious region the world used to know by the comprehensive name of cathay. when we read of , japanese soldiers in the year tramping across korea for the purpose of conquering their great neighbor china, it has a familiar sound! but china was not conquered by japan in , and remained the dominant power in the east, as she had been since she struggled out of the mongol yoke which, in common with russia, kublai-khan imposed upon her in . at the time of this mongol invasion, the manchus, a nomadic tribe, gathered up their portable tents and fled into a province lying beyond the great wall, permanently occupying the region now called manchuria. remote and obscure, the manchus were almost unknown to the chinese until the year , when tai-tsu, a remarkable man and born leader, on account of grievances suffered by his tribe, organized a revolt against china and made a victorious assault upon his powerful suzerain. upon his death, in , his victories were continued by his son, who overthrew the reigning dynasty and was proclaimed emperor of china. and that wretched youth who is to-day obscured and dominated by the powerful empress dowager at pekin is the lineal descendant of tai-tsu and the last representative of the manchurian dynasty, which has ruled china for nearly four centuries. the manchus had not much in the way of civilization to impose upon the people they had conquered. but such as they had they brought with them; and the shaven forehead and the queue, so precious to the chinese, are manchurian exotics. mukden, the capital of manchuria, became the "sacred city," where manchurian emperors at death were laid beside tai-tsu. wealthy mandarins built residences there. it became splendid and, next only to pekin, was known as the second official city in the empire. while the world has long been familiar with china and its civilization, japan and korea have only recently come out from their oriental seclusion. in looking into the past of the former, in vain do we seek for any adequate explanation, anything which will reasonably account for that phenomenally endowed race which occupies the centre of the stage to-day; which, knowing absolutely nothing of our civilization forty years ago, has so digested and assimilated its methods and essential principles that it is beating us at our own game. from its earliest period this country was under a feudal system of government, with the mikado as its supreme and sacred head. the divine nature of this being separated him from the temporal affairs of the nation, which were in the hands of the shogun, who represented the strong arm of the state. next below the shogun were the daimios, the feudal or military chiefs; these in turn being the rulers of bands of military retainers which constituted the aristocratic class, and were called the samurai. shintoism, a form of ancestral worship and sacrifice to dead heroes, which was the primitive cult of japan, was in a. d. superseded, or rather absorbed, by buddhism, which for a thousand years has prevailed. and although shintoism to some extent still lingers, and although confucianism with its philosophical and abstract principles has always had its followers, still japanese civilization is the child of gautama. the dual sovereignty of the mikado and the shogun, like that existing in the holy roman empire, made a great deal of history in japan. the things representing the real power in a state were in the hands of the shogun. the mikado was venerated, but this first servant in the land was feared, the one dwelling in a seclusion so sacred that to look upon him was almost a sacrilege, the other with armies and castles and wealth and the pomp and circumstance which attend the real sovereign. history again repeats itself as we see this maire du palais obscuring more and more the titular sovereign, the mikado, until like pepin he openly claimed absolute sovereignty, assuming the title of tycoon. the people rose against this usurpation. it was while in the throes of this revolution that the united states government dispatched a few ships under commodore perry, in protection of some american citizens in japan. after this events moved swiftly. in a treaty with the united states--their first with foreign nations--was signed at yokohama. treaties with other nations speedily followed. in a japanese embassy arrived at washington, and similar ones were established in european capitals. in the revolution was over. the party of the usurping tycoon was defeated and the shogunate abolished. the anti-foreign spirit which was allied with it shared this defeat, and the party desiring to adopt the methods of foreign lands was triumphant. there was a reorganization of the government, with the mikado as its single and supreme head. the entire feudal structure, with its daimios and samurai, was swept away. a representative body was created holding a relation to the mikado similar to that of the houses of parliament to the king of england. the rights of the people were safeguarded. in other words, at a bound, an oriental feudal and military despotism had become a modern democratic free state. from this moment dates an ascent from obscurity to an advanced type of civilization, accomplished with a swiftness without a parallel in the history of nations. japanese youths, silent, intent, studious, were in european and american universities, colleges, technical schools, learning the arts of war and of peace. when war was declared between china and japan ( ), the world discovered that they had not studied in vain. in order to understand the chino-japanese war, one must know something of korea, that, little peninsula jutting out between these two countries, washed by the yellow sea on the west and by the sea of japan on the east. in the koreans we seem to behold the wraith of a something which existed long ago. there are traditions of ancient greatness, the line of their present king stretching proudly back to , and beyond that an indefinite background of splendor and vista of heroic deeds which, we are told, made china and japan and all the east tremble! but to-day we see a feeble and rather gentle race, eccentric in customs and dress and ideals, with odd rites and ceremonials chiefly intended to placate demoniacal beings to whom they ascribe supreme control over human events. nothing may be done by the king or his humblest subject without consulting the sorcerers and exorcists, who alone know the propitious moment and place for every important act. with no recognition of a supreme being, no sacred books; without temples, or art, or literature, or industries, excepting one or two of a very simple nature, it is extremely difficult for the western mind to understand what life must mean to this people. that it is a degenerate form of national life which must be either absorbed or effaced seems obvious. and if the life of korean nationality is prolonged in the future, it will be simply because, like turkey, it harmlessly holds a strategic point too valuable to be allowed to pass into the hands of any one of the nations which covet it. and it is also easy to foresee that in the interval existing until its absorption, korea must remain, also like turkey, merely the plaything of diplomacy and the battle-ground for rival nations. until the year korea was really a "hermit kingdom," with every current from the outside world carefully excluded. in that year her near neighbor, japan, made the first rift in the enclosing shell. a treaty was concluded opening chemulpo, fusan and won-san to japanese trade. the civilizing tide pressed in, and by the united states, france, england and germany had all concluded treaties and korea was open to the outside world. the government of korea at this time was simply an organized system of robbery and extortion--wearing not even the mask of justice. the undisguised aim of officialdom was to extort money from the people; and the aim of the high-born korean youth (or _yang-ban_) was to pass the royal examination in chinese classics, which was requisite to make him eligible for official position, and then join the horde of vampires who fed upon the people. at irregular intervals there were revolts, and under the pressure of violent acts temporary relief would be afforded; then things would go on as before. while such was the perennial condition of political unrest, a rebellion of a different sort broke out at seoul in --an anti-foreign rebellion--which had for its purpose the expulsion of all the foreign legations. this led to negotiations between china and japan having an important bearing upon subsequent events. li hung chang, representing china, and marquis ito, the japanese foreign minister, held a conference ( ) at tien-tsin, which resulted in what is known as the "li-ito treaty." in view of the disorders existing, it was agreed that their respective governments should hold a joint control in korea, each having the right to dispatch troops to the peninsula if required. this agreement was later expanded into a joint occupation until reform should be established insuring security and order. these negotiations left korea as before an independent state, although tributary to china. the koreans attributed their calamities to their queen, a woman of intelligence and craft, who managed to keep her own family in the highest positions and also, by intriguing with china, to thwart japanese reforms. it soon became apparent that so far from co-operating in these reforms, which were an essential part of the li-ito agreement, china intended to make them impossible. the government at tokio came to a momentous decision. in an outbreak more serious than usual occurred, known as the "tong-hak rebellion." li hung chang promptly sent an army from tien-tsin for its suppression, another from japan coming simultaneously. but the japanese army poured into chemulpo in such numbers and with a perfection of equipment suggesting a purpose not mentioned in the li-ito agreement! china's protest was met by open defiance, japan declaring that, as the convention of had been violated, she should no longer recognize the sovereignty of china in korea. war was declared aug. , . the mikado's government was not unprepared for this crisis. there were no surprises awaiting the army of little men as they poured into korea. they knew the measurements of the rivers, the depth of the fords and every minutest detail of the land they intended to invade. their emissaries in disguise had also been gauging the strength and the weakness of china from thibet to the sea. they knew her corruption, her crumbling defenses, her antique arms and methods, the absence of all provision for the needs of an army in the field. with a bewildering suddenness and celerity the plan of the campaign developed. first the control of korea was secured, then the command of the sea, then the yalu was crossed; and while one division of the army was pouring into manchuria, threatening niu-chwang and beyond that mukden, a second division landed at pitsewo, making a rapid descent upon port arthur, the chief stronghold of china, which was captured by assault nov. , . wei-hai-wei, the next strongly fortified point on the coast of china, south of port arthur, of almost equal strategic value, was defended with desperation by sea and by land. but in vain; and, with the capitulation of wei-hai-wei, feb. , , the war was ended. with the "sacred city" of mukden threatened in the north, and pekin in the south, japan could name her own terms as the price of peace. first of all she demanded an acknowledgment of the independence of korea. then that the island of formosa and the manchurian peninsula (liao-tung), embracing a coast line from the korean boundary to port arthur, should belong to her. a severe blow had been dealt to russia. she saw her entire eastern policy threatened with failure. the permanent occupation of the liao-tung peninsula by japan meant that she had to deal, not with an effete and waning power which she might threaten and cajole, but with a new and ambitious civilization which had just given proof of surprising ability. after vast expenditure of energy and treasure and diplomacy, access to the sea was further off than ever. then came a masterly stroke. germany and france were induced to co-operate with russia in driving japan out of manchuria, upon the ground that her presence so near to pekin endangered the chinese empire, the independence of korea and the peace of the orient. so in the hour of her triumph japan was to be humiliated; the fruits of her victory snatched from her, precisely as the "berlin treaty," in , had torn from russia the fruits of her turkish victories! japan wasted no time in protests, but quietly withdrew and, as it is significantly said, "proceeded to double her army and treble her navy!" as the protector of chinese interests russia was in position to ask a favor; she asked and obtained permission to carry the siberian railway in a straight line through manchuria, instead of following the amur in its great northward sweep. the japanese word for statesman also means _chess-player_. russian diplomatists had played their game well. in serving china, they had incidentally removed the japanese from a position which blocked their own game, and had at the same time opened a way for their railway across that waiting gap in northern manchuria. just three years after these events germany, by way of indemnity for the murder of two missionaries, compelled china to lease to her the province of shantung. russia immediately demanded similar privileges in the liao-tung peninsula. china, beaten to her knees, could not afford to lose the friendship of the tsar, and granted the lease; and when permission was asked to have a branch of the russian railway run from harbin through the length of this leased territory to port arthur, humbly conceded that too. with wonderful smoothness everything had moved toward the desired end. to be sure, the tenure of the peninsula was only by lease, and in no way different from that of shantung by germany. there was no pretext in sight for garrisoning the dismantled fort at port arthur, but the fates had hitherto opened closed doors and might do it again. and so she waited. and while she waited the branch road from harbin moved swiftly down to mukden, and on through the manchurian peninsula, and port arthur was in _direct line of communication with st. petersburg_. in the anti-foreign insurrection known as the "boxer war" broke out in china. russia, in common with all the great powers (now including japan), sent troops for the protection of the imperiled legations at pekin. nothing could better have served the government of the tsar. russian troops poured into manchuria, and the new road from harbin bore the tsar's soldiers swiftly down to port arthur. the fort was garrisoned, and work immediately commenced--probably upon plans already drawn--to make of this coveted spot what nature seemed to have designed it to be--the gibraltar of the east. the western powers had not been unobservant of these steady encroachments upon chinese territory, and while a military occupation of the peninsula was necessary at this time, it was viewed with uneasiness; but none was prepared for what followed. before peace was actually concluded, russia approached china with a proposition for her permanent occupancy of--not the peninsula alone, but all of manchuria. a mystifying proposition when we reflect that japan was forced out of the southern littoral of manchuria because her presence there threatened korea, china, and the peace of the world. port arthur was no farther from pekin and seoul than it was five years before, and it was much nearer to st. petersburg! and as russia had already made surprising bounds from nikolaifsk to vladivostok, and from vladivostok to port arthur, she might make still another to one or both of these capitals. so limp and helpless had china become since the overthrow by japan and the humiliations following the "boxer war," and so compliant had she been with russia's demands, that the united states, great britain and japan, fearful that she would yield, combined to prevent this last concession, which under this pressure was refused, and a pledge demanded for the withdrawal of troops before a fixed date, which pledge russia gave. at the specified dates, instead of withdrawing her troops from manchuria, russia reopened negotiations with china, proposing new conditions. garrisons were being strengthened instead of withdrawn. strategic positions were being fortified and barracks built in rushing haste. at the same time russian infantry and bands of cossacks were crossing the yalu to protect russian sawmills and other industries which had also crept into korea. and when the korean government protested, russian agents claimed the right to construct railways, erect telegraphs or take any required measures for the protection of russian settlers in korea; and every diplomatic attempt to open manchuria or korea to foreign trade and residents was opposed by russia as if it were an attack upon her own individual rights. surprising as this was to all the treaty powers, it had for japan the added sting of injustice. she had been ejected from her own territory, fairly won in war, because her presence would endanger the independence of korea and the peace of the orient. she now saw russia in full occupation of this very territory, and the absorption of korea itself threatened. and what was the object of all this scheming? not more land! certainly a nation owning more than a sixth of the earth's surface could not be hungering for land! and no doubt russia would long ago gladly have given one-half of siberia to the sea in exchange for a few good harbors such as existed on the east coast of korea. it was that ever-existent thirst for access to the ocean which tempted her into tortuous diplomacy, drawing her on and on, like the hand of fate. manchuria itself would be unavailing unless she could control korea, which alone possessed the ocean facilities for which she had struggled since the first year of her existence. in the year the trans-siberian railway was completed. its , miles of rails, if laid in a straight line, would pass one-quarter of the distance around the earth! it had traversed an unexplored continent, creating, as it moved along, homes for the workmen, schools for their technical instruction, churches, hospitals, inns, stores; converting a wilderness, in fact, into a semi-civilization at the rate of a mile a day for nine years! and whereas in the days of the mongol subjection it required four years for the grand princes to go from moscow to saraï, near pekin, to prostrate themselves before the great khan, many perishing by the way from fatigue and exposure, the journey from moscow to pekin may now be accomplished in two weeks. in perfect good faith japan commenced her task of reformation in korea. but the way was obstructed by the large and powerful family of the queen, who were, in fact, the chief vampires in the kingdom. a few korean miscreants led by japanese officials formed a plot to get rid of these people, seize the government, and then administer the reforms themselves. forcing their way into the palace oct. , , there was enacted a tragedy similar to the one which recently horrified the world in servia. while the king was being insulted and dragged about by his hair, the fleeing queen was stricken down and stabbed, several members of her family sharing the same fate. she, it is said, was then carried, still breathing, to a grove in the park, where, after having kerosene poured over her, she was incinerated. such was the fate of the intriguing but fascinating queen of korea, of whom count inouye said: "she has few equals in her country for shrewdness and sagacity, and in the power of conciliating enemies and attaching friends." the king, a prisoner in his palace, allowed to see or speak with no one, unaware of the death of the queen (as were all except those engaged in the plot), was compelled to sign odious edicts framed by a cabinet composed of men upon whose hands the blood of his adored wife was scarcely dry. the first of these brought for his signature was a royal decree deposing the queen, "who for years has dulled our senses, sold offices and titles," etc., etc. "since she will not give up her wickedness and is hiding and plotting with low fellows, we hereby depose her and degrade her to the lowest rank." the king declared he would have both his hands cut off before he would sign this infamous paper, which did not prevent its appearing with his name attached. after four months of this torture the wretched man escaped in disguise and found safe asylum in the russian legation, where he remained for one year. one of these reforming edicts signed under compulsion had ordered the immediate abolishment of the top knot. the top knot was the symbol of nationality and personal dignity. a man without it was less than nothing, and its assumption was the most important event in his life. the ceremony was costly. but what money could be saved from the officials was freely given to the sorcerers and astrologers, who must determine the proper moment and place, and the sacrifices which would be required when their ancestors were informed of the important event which had taken place! then, when this horn-shaped knot had been covered by a high hat of gauze tied tightly on with ribbons, the korean arose transformed into a being of dignity and consequence. it was the abolishment of this sacred adornment which brought about a rebellion. those who did not obey the order were hiding from the officials, while those who did were mobbed and in danger of being killed by the populace. the king's first act after his escape was to issue a royal proclamation disclaiming with horror the edict degrading and casting infamous reflections upon his beloved queen. it also rescinded the edicts he had signed under compulsion. it said: "as to the top knot, no one shall be forced. do as you please"; and he continues: "traitors by their crimes have made trouble. soldiers, come and protect us! you are our children! you are all pardoned. but when you meet the chief traitors" (naming them) "cut off their heads at once and bring them. "soldiers, attend us at the russian legation." within an hour all were aware of the repeal of the top knot decree, and several of the cabinet officers had been beheaded on the streets of seoul. although the government of the mikado was innocent of any complicity with this crime, renegade japanese officials had been leaders in the plot, and japanese ascendancy had received a severe blow. a point had also been secured by russia, when the king for one year ruled his kingdom from her legation at seoul. it is easy to conceive that the distracted man, grateful for protection, did at this time, as is supposed, consent to the purchase of lands and cutting of timber by the russians on the yalu, which the following year ( ) expanded into a grant of an extended tract, and became the centre of a large russian industry in northern korea. and it is significant that admiral alexieff was one of the prime movers in this project, which to japan seemed to have a thinly veiled political purpose, and which became, in fact, one of the chief _casus belli_. in the tsar issued an order for the creation of a city on the bay of talien-wan; and in two years dalny stood in massive completeness, with docks and wharves and defences which had cost millions of dollars. millions more had been expended upon port arthur, and still more millions upon the railway binding manchuria to russia with bands of steel. this did not look like temporary occupation; like pitching her tent for a passing emergency. still, in the frequent interchange of notes with the powers, there was never an acknowledgment that a permanent occupation was intended. in displeasure at these repeated violations of solemn pledges the western powers held aloof; the united states and great britain, however, insistently declaring that the "open-door" policy must be maintained, _i.e._, that all nations must have equal industrial and commercial opportunities in manchuria and korea, and also that the integrity of china must be preserved. in the hope of arriving at a peaceful adjustment of their differences, japan made a proposition based upon mutual concessions. she would accept the russian economic status in manchuria if russia would recognize hers in korea. russia absolutely refused to admit japan's right to have anything whatever to say concerning manchuria--the land which eight years before was hers by right of conquest, and from which russia for her own purposes had ejected her. admiral alexieff was viceroy of the eastern provinces, and to him the tsar confided the issues of peace or war. confident in her enormous weight and military prestige, russia undoubtedly believed that the japanese must in the end submit. but after five months of fruitless negotiations the patience of the government at tokio was exhausted. on feb. , , the japanese fleet made a sudden descent upon port arthur. this act, so audaciously planned, resulted in the destruction of battle-ships, cruisers, torpedo-boats--nine in all--to which were added the day following two more battle-ships, destroyed at chemulpo. [illustration: scene during the russo-japanese war: russian soldiers on the march in manchuria.] there was dismay and grief at st. petersburg. the tsar, realizing that he had been misled regarding the chances of peace and also the military strength of the foe, recalled admiral alexieff from port arthur. admiral makaroff, russia's military hero and ablest commander, succeeded him. just as his invigorating influence was being felt in awakened energy and courage, there came another disaster more terrible than the first. the petropavlovsk, flag-ship of the fleet, coming in contact with a submarine mine or boat, was torn to pieces and sank in two minutes, with all on board, including admiral makaroff and his entire staff of seventeen officers. still benumbed by these crushing blows, the russians were bewildered by the electrical swiftness with which the campaign developed, moving on lines almost identical with those in the war with china, ten years before. a miracle of discipline and minute perfection in method and detail, the mikado's army of little men first secured control in korea, then the command of the sea. then one army division crossed the yalu with three converging lines, moving toward mukden, pressing a retreating army before them. then, still moving in the grooves of the last war, there was a landing of troops at pitsewo, threatening dalny and port arthur, the latter already isolated, with railroad and telegraphic lines cut. seeing the capture of dalny was imminent, without a pause the russians mined the harbor, docks and defences which had cost millions of dollars, and the city created by fiat was by fiat doomed to destruction. behind this life and death struggle with a foreign foe, another struggle nearer home was being profoundly affected by these unexpected calamities. an unpopular war cannot afford to be an unsuccessful one. this clash with japan was distinctly the outcome of bureaucratic ambitions and policy. it had not one single issue in which the people who were fighting its battles and bearing its burdens were even remotely interested. and then again--a despotism must not show signs of weakness. its power lies in the fiction of its invincibility. liberals and progressives of all shades, wise and not wise, saw their opportunity. finns and poles grew bolder. the air was thick with threats and demands and rumors of revolt. at this critical moment m. von plehve, the leader of the party of reaction, the very incarnation of the spirit of old russia, of pobiedonostseff and the holy synod, was in power. in there had occurred a shocking massacre of jews at kishineff. this culmination of a prolonged anti-semitic agitation was quickly followed by an imperial edict, promising, among other reforms, religious liberty for all. with m. de witte, the leader of the progressive party, to administer this new policy, a better day seemed to be dawning. but under the benumbing pressure of autocratic influences, and with his characteristic infirmity of purpose, the tsar almost immediately removed m. de witte, replacing him with m. von plehve, in whose hands the reforming edict became practically inoperative, and in fact all reforms impossible. on june , , general bobrikov, the recently appointed russian governor of finland, was assassinated by the son of a finnish senator within the walls of the senate. quickly following this, july th, m. von plehve was killed on the streets of st. petersburg by the explosion of a dynamite bomb. the tsar, recognized the meaning of these events, and quickly appointed prince mirski, known by his liberal tendencies, to von plehve's place in the ministry of the interior. one of the first acts of the new minister was the authorizing of a meeting of all the presidents of the _zemstvos_ for consultation over national conditions. when it is recalled that the _zemstvo_ is a peasants' court, that it is a representative assembly of the humblest class in the empire, and a gift which accompanied emancipation bestowed for their own protection--when this is remembered, we realize the full significance of this act of m. von plehve's successor. this first conference of the heads of the _zemstvos_, which met at moscow, nov., , by permission of prince mirski, contained the germ of a representative government. it was an acknowledgment of a principle hitherto denied; a recognition never before made of the right of the people to come together for the purpose of discussing measures of governmental policy. in the meantime the japanese, irresistible as fate, were breaking down one after another of the supposed impregnable defences about port arthur; climbing over hills of their own dead, fathers, sons, and brothers, in order to do it. within the beleaguered fort the supply of ammunition was running low, only one-quarter of the defenders were left, and disease was slaying and incapacitating these. nearer and nearer came the rain of fire. in vain they listened for the booming of kuropatkin's guns sweeping down from the north. in vain they watched for the smoke of the long-promised baltic fleet approaching from the south. no rescue came. on the last night of the year, after consultation with his officers, general stoessel signed the conditions of capitulation to general nogi. the key to the russian power in the east was lost. when the new year dawned the japanese flag floated from the citadel on the golden hill, and the greatest siege of modern times was ended. on jan. , , general stoessel wrote to his imperial master: "great sovereign, pardon us! we have done everything humanly possible. judge us, but be merciful!" he then goes on to state the conditions which would make further resistance a wanton sacrifice of the lives of those remaining in the garrison. st. petersburg was stunned by the receipt of this intelligence; and every day added to its dismay: oyama, leaving the captured fortress behind him, sweeping the russians back from mukden; kuropatkin sending despairing messages to the tsar, who, bewildered and trembling before his own subjects at home, was still vibrating between the two widely opposing influences--the spirit of the old despotism, and that of a new age which clamored to be admitted. rescript followed quickly upon rescript; one sounding as if written by de witte, the other as if dictated by pobiedonostseff; while alarming rumors were coming hourly from moscow, finland, poland, the crimea, the caucasus; and the great fabric before which the world had trembled seemed threatened at every vital point. in the midst of these colossal disasters stood a young man not fashioned for great events--from whom the world and the situation demand a statesmanship as able as bismarck's, a political ideal as exalted as washington's, a prompt and judicious dealing with an unprecedented crisis worthy of peter the great. and not finding this ample endowment, we call him a weakling. it is difficult for the anglo-saxon, fed and nourished for a thousand years upon the principles of political freedom and their application, to realize the strain to which a youth of average ability is subjected when he is called upon to cast aside all the things he has been taught to reverence,--to abandon the ideals he holds most sacred,--to violate all the traditions of his ancestors,--to act in direct opposition to the counsel of his natural advisers; and to do all these things at the dictation of men he has been taught not only to distrust, but to hold in contempt. chief among his counsellors is the procurator pobiedonostseff, head of the "holy synod,"--that evil genius of two reigns, who reminds him of the sacredness of his trust, and his duty to leave his divine heritage to his son unimpaired by impious reforms. next to him stands muravieff, the wise and powerful minister of justice, creator of modern siberia, and member of the court of arbitration at the hague, who speaks with authority when he tells him he has not the _right_ to change a political system created by his predecessors; and still nearer than these are the grand dukes, a phalanx of uncles and imperial relatives surrounding him with a petrified wall of ancient prejudices. confronting these imposing representatives of imperial and historic russia are a few more or less discredited men, like m. de witte and prince mirski, counselling and warning with a freedom which would once have sent them to siberia, and with a power to which the bewildered nicholas cannot be indifferent, and to which, perhaps, he would gladly yield were it not for the dominating sentiment about him. many a man who could face a rain of bullets without a tremor, would quail and turn coward if subjected to the same test before such a cumulative force of opinion. but this is not a crisis to be settled in the council-chamber, nor to be decided by convincing arguments, but by the march of events. and events were not slow in coming. the assassination of the grand duke sergius, uncle of the tsar, and the most extreme of the reactionaries at moscow, of which he was governor, was the most powerful argument yet presented for a change of direction in the government; and others were near at hand. the derangement of industrial conditions induced by the war pressed heavily upon the wage-earners; and the agitation upon the surface, the threatened explosions here and there, were only an indication of the misery existing in the deeps below. at all industrial centres there were strikes accompanied by the violence which invariably attends them. on the morning of sunday, jan. d, an orderly concourse of workmen, in conformity with a plan already announced, were on their way to the winter-palace bearing a petition to the "little father," who, if he only knew their wrongs, would see that justice was done them. so they were going to tell him in person of their grievances. the letter of the preceding day ran thus: "sovereign. we fear the ministers have not told you the whole truth. your children, trusting in you, have resolved to come to the winter palace tomorrow at p. m. to tell you of their needs. appear before us and receive our address of devotion." had these , or , men been marching to the winter-palace with rifles in their hands, or with weapons of any sort indicating a violent purpose, there might have been cause for alarm. but absolutely unarmed, even for their own defence, led by an orthodox priest carrying an icon, these humble petitioners were met by a volley of rapid fire from repeating rifles, were cut down by sabres and trampled by cavalry, until "policing" had become an indiscriminate massacre of innocent people upon the streets, regardless of age or sex. before midnight the tsar was miles away at his palace tsarskoe-selo; and there was a new cry heard in st. petersburg, a cry unfamiliar to russian ears,--"down with the tsar!" those blood-stains in nevski prospect will be long in effacing! the long-looked-for baltic fleet, commanded by admiral rojestvenski, was detained at the outset of its voyage by an untoward incident, having fired into a fleet of british fishermen, which was mistaken for the enemy in disguise. after being acquitted by a court of inquiry, the admiral proceeded, his objective point now being changed from port arthur to vladivostock, the next most critical point. on may - th there occurred one of the most disastrous naval engagements in the annals of war, in the korean straits, near tsushima, where admiral togo with sure instinct of the course which would be taken, was lying in wait under the cover of darkness and fog. nineteen russian vessels were destroyed, the japanese ships sustaining almost no injury. all that remained of the russian fleet was surrendered to admiral togo, and rojestvenski, desperately wounded, and all of his surviving officers, were prisoners of war in tokio. with this climax of russian disaster the end had come. although russia still doggedly refused to acknowledge defeat, and made feint of preparation for reënforcements and future triumphs, the world saw that there must be peace; and that the only existing obstacle was the determination of a proud nation not to be placed in a humiliating position. the absolute neutrality of the united states enabled president roosevelt to intervene at this critical moment as no european sovereign could have done. his proposal that there should be a meeting of envoys for the discussion of some peaceable adjustment of their differences was promptly accepted by both nations, and with the hostile armies still facing each other in manchuria, arrangements were made for the peace conference to be held in the united states in august. the envoys selected for this mission were m. de witte and baron rosen, ambassador to the united states from russia, on the one hand, and baron komura, minister of foreign affairs in japan, and kogaro takahira, minister at washington from that country, on the other. if the appointment of m. de witte had awakened expectation of a presentation of the russian cause from the view-point of a progressive leader, the mistake was quickly discovered. m. de witte, performing a duty intrusted to him by his imperial master, was quite a different person from de witte, the exponent of liberal ideas, pleading the cause of an oppressed people before the tsar; and an adamantine side of his character, quite unexpected, was revealed. the fencing between the two skilled diplomats, de witte and komura, afforded a fascinating study in racial methods and characteristics at a high point of development; the impression left being that the intense sincerity of purpose in the japanese, and the lack of it in the other, was the main point of difference. the russian argument throughout was upon a perfectly insincere basis. the russian envoy never once recognized that he represented a defeated nation, steadily maintaining the attitude of a generous foe willing to stop fighting to prevent the shedding of more blood. in striking contrast to this was baron komura's calm presentation of his twelve peace proposals, and the sad sincerity with which he tenaciously maintained their justification by the results of the war. eight of these proposals, of minor importance, were accepted, while the four of real significance were at once rejected by m. de witte. these were: the cession of the island of saghalien, already partly occupied by the japanese troops; the interning of all russian ships lying in japanese waters; an indemnity of $ , , to reimburse japan for the cost of the war, and a limitation of the naval power of russia. many times negotiations were on the verge of breaking; at the last of these crises, when the hope of an agreement was actually abandoned and preparations were making for departure, it is said, strong pressure was brought to bear upon japan by president roosevelt which led to a modification of the terms--a modification so excessive that deep resentment existed in tokio, and a satisfaction correspondingly great was experienced in st. petersburg. japan withdrew her demands for indemnity and for acquisition of territory in the following way: she saved her adversary from the humiliation of reimbursing her for the cost of the war by offering to sell to russia the northern half of the island in dispute,--saghalien,--for two-thirds of the sum she had demanded under the name of indemnity. the russo-japanese treaty of peace, signed at portsmouth in august, , registers the concession of all the vital points in the demands of the conquering nation. the popular saying, "to the victor belong the spoils," does not hold good in japan! twice has she seen the fruits of her splendidly won victories snatched from her by the same hand; and twice has she looked with far-seeing eyes into the future, and quietly submitted. perhaps she realizes that a time may come when russia's friendship will be more valuable to her than saghalien! the war was over. the march of armies had ceased; but the march of events, accelerated by the great upheaval, moved irresistibly on. realizing that something must be done to pacify the people, a new and more liberal policy was announced, with de witte, now prime minister, in charge. russia was to have a _national assembly_, a law-making body in which every class would have representation. this russian parliament was to be composed of two bodies: an upper and a lower house. the one to be called the "_council of the empire_," the other the "_duma_." these were to be convoked and prorogued annually by imperial ukase. the president, vice-president, and one-half the members of the council of the empire (consisting of members) were to be appointed by the tsar; twenty-four more to be elected by the nobility and clergy, a very small number by some designated universities and commercial bodies; each _zemstvo_ (of which there are fifty-one) being entitled to one representative. the members composing the _duma_, or lower house, were to be elected by the electoral colleges, which had in turn been created by the votes of the people in the various provinces of the empire for that purpose. the two bodies were to have equal rights in initiating legislation. but a bill must pass both houses and then receive imperial sanction in order to become a law; and failing in this, cannot come up again during the same session. thus hedged about and thus constituted, it is obvious that a conservative majority was permanently secured and ways provided to block any anti-imperial or revolutionary legislation in the duma. and when it is added that matters concerning finance and treasonable offences were almost entirely in the hands of the council, we realize how this gift of political representation to the russian people had been shorn of its dangers! the first national assembly was opened by the tsar may , , with the form and splendor of a court ceremonial. it was a strange spectacle, that solid body of peasants seated on the left of the throne, intently listening to the brief and guarded speech of welcome to the "representatives of the nation, who had come to aid him in making laws for their welfare!" and the first jarring note came when not one of these men joined in the applause which followed. the first _duma_ was composed of members. the world was watching this experiment, curious to find out what sort of beings have been dumbly supporting the weight of the russian empire. almost the first act was a surprise. instead of explosive utterances and intemperate demands, the _duma_ formally declared russia to be a _constitutional monarchy_. no anarchistic extravagance could have been so disturbing to autocratic russia as was this wise moderation, which at the very outset converted constitutional bureaucrats into constitutional democrats, thus immensely strengthening the people's party at the expense of the conservatives. the leaders in the _duma_ knew precisely what they wanted, and how to present their demands with a clearness, a power, and a calm determination for which russia,--and indeed that greater audience, the world at large,--was quite unprepared. that this seriously alarmed the imperial party was proved by an immediate strengthening of the defences about the throne by means of a change in what is called the _fundamental laws_. these fundamental laws afford a rigid framework, an immovable foundation for the authority of the emperor and his cabinet ministers. repairs in the constitution of the united states have been usually in the direction of increased liberties for the people. the tsar, on the contrary, aided by his cabinet and high government officials, drafted a new edition of the fundamental laws suited to a new danger. the changes made were all designed to build up new defences around the throne, and to intrench more firmly every threatened prerogative. the tsar was deliberately ranging himself with the bureaucratic party instead of the party of his people; and the hot indignation which followed found expression in bitter and powerful arraignment of the government, even to the extent of demanding the resignation of the ministry. what was at first a rift, was becoming an impassable chasm. if count witte had disappointed the liberals by his lukewarmness and by what they considered an espousal of the conservative cause, he was even less acceptable to the bureaucrats, to whom he had from the first been an object of aversion--an aversion not abated by his masterly diplomacy at portsmouth, for which he received only a grudging acknowledgment. whatever may be the verdict of the future, with its better historic perspective, whether justly or unjustly, count witte had lost his hold upon the situation; and the statesman who had been the one heroic figure in russia was no longer the man of the hour. at all events, his resignation of the head of the ministry during this obnoxious attempt to nullify the gift of popular representation was significant; and the name of de witte is not associated with this grave mistake made by the master he has tried to serve. the reforms insistently demanded by the _duma_ were as follows:--the responsibility of the ministry to that body, as the representative of the people; the distribution to the working peasants of the lands held by the crown and the clergy; a general amnesty, with the release of all political prisoners; and the abolition of the death penalty. this was virtually a sweeping demand for the surrender of the autocratic principle, the very principle the fundamental laws had just been revised to render more inviolable. the issue was now narrowed down within definite limits. it was a conflict for power, for administrative control, and it was a life-and-death struggle between the tsar and his people. printed reports of the debates were sent broadcast, and for the first time since russia came into being the peasantry saw things as they really were. they had always attributed their wrongs to the nobility, who, they believed, had cheated them out of their land and their rights under the emancipation act. but now it was not the nobility, not the hated boyars who were cruelly refusing to give them land and liberty, but it was the little father, he whom they had always trusted and adored! it is a critical moment when the last illusion drops from the eyes of a confiding people. the _duma_ at this moment was engaged in a task of supreme difficulty and responsibility. millions of people hung upon its words and acts. a group of inexperienced but terribly determined men were facing an equally determined group of well-seasoned officials, veterans in the art of governing. never was there greater need of calmness and wisdom, and at this very time a wild revolutionary faction was doing its utmost to inflame the passions of a peasantry already maddened with a sense of wrong and betrayal, who in gusts of destructive rage were burning, pillaging, and carrying terror into the remotest parts of the empire. even while the _duma_ was demanding this larger measure of liberty and of authority over the ministry, that body had already initiated and put in force new and more vigorous methods of suppression. under m. durnovo, minister of the interior, a law had been promulgated known as the law of reinforced defense. under the provisions of this law, high officials, or subordinates designated by them, were clothed with authority to arrest, imprison, and punish with exile or death, without warrant, without accusation, or any judicial procedure whatever. on july , , m. makaroff, assistant secretary of the interior, appeared personally before the _duma_; and in answer to thirty-three interpellations concerning as many specific cases of imprisonment without resort to the courts, frankly replied: "yes. we have held the persons named in prison for the time mentioned without warrant or accusation; and some of these, and many others, have been exiled to siberia. but it is a precaution demanded by the situation and the circumstances; a precaution we are authorized to take by the law of reinforced defense." in october of last year ( ) the world was made glad by a manifesto issued by the tsar containing these words: "in obedience to our inflexible will, we hereby make it the duty of our government to give to our beloved people freedom of conscience, freedom of speech, freedom of public assembly, freedom of association, and _real inviolability of personal rights_." the tsar had also, with the same solemnity, declared: "no law shall take effect without the sanction of the _duma_, which is also to have _participation in the control of the officials_." yet, ministers and governors general, or subordinates appointed by them, may at their own discretion imprison, exile, or kill in defiance of imperial command, and find ample protection in the law of reinforced defense! the free handling of these governmental methods in the _duma_, and the immediate world-wide publicity given to these revelations, if allowed to continue, must inevitably destroy the cause of russian bureaucracy. there were but two courses open to the tsar. he must either surrender the autocratic principle, and in good faith carry out his pledges and share his authority with his people, or he must disperse a representative body which flagrantly defied his imperial will. he chose the latter course. five days after the examination of m. makaroff, on july , , the first russian parliament was dissolved by imperial ukase. the reason assigned for this was that, "instead of applying themselves to the work of productive legislation, they have strayed into a sphere beyond their competence, and have been making comments on the imperfections of the fundamental laws, which can only be modified by our imperial will." the tsar at the same time declared his immutable purpose to maintain the institution of parliament, and named march , , as the date of the convening of a new _duma_. a body of representatives, including the constitutional and conservative members of the _duma_, immediately reassembled at viborg in finland, where, in the few hours before their forcible dispersion by a body of military, they prepared an address to "the citizens of all russia." this manifesto was a final word of warning, in which the people were reminded that for seven months, while on the brink of ruin, they are to stand without representation; also reminding them of all that may be done in that time to undermine their hopes, and to obtain a pliable and subservient parliament, if, indeed, any parliament at all be convoked at the time promised by the tsar. in view of all this they were solemnly abjured not to give "one kopek to the throne, or one soldier to the army," until there exists a popular representative parliament. the hand of autocracy is making a final and desperate grasp upon the prerogatives of the crown. when the end will come, and how it will come, cannot be foretold. but it needs no prophetic power to see what that end will be. the days of autocracy in russia are numbered. a century may be all too short for the gigantic task of habilitating a russian people--making the heterogeneous homogeneous, and converting an undeveloped peasantry into a capable citizenship. the problem is unique, and one for which history affords no parallel. in no other modern nation have the life forces been so abnormal in their adjustment. and it is only because of the extraordinary quality of the russian mind, because of its instinct for political power, and its genius for that instrument of power hitherto known as diplomacy--it is only because of these brilliant mental endowments that this chaotic mass of ethnic barbarism has been made to appear a fitting companion for her sister nations in the family of the great powers. it is vain to expect the young tsar to set about the task of demolishing the autocratic system created by his predecessors and ancestors. that work is in charge of more august agents. it is perishing by natural process because it is vicious, because it is out of harmony with its environment, and because the maladjusted life forces are moving by eternal laws from the surface to their natural home in the centre. and we may well believe that the fates are preparing a destiny commensurate with the endowments of a great--perhaps the greatest--of the nations of the earth. let it not be supposed that it is the moujik, the russian peasant in sheepskin, with toil-worn hands, who has conducted that brilliant parliamentary battle in the _duma_. certain educational and property qualifications are required for eligibility to membership in that body, which would of necessity exclude that humble class. it is not the emancipated serf, but it is _rural russia_ which the _duma_ represented, and the vastness of the area covered by that term is realized when one learns that of the members constituting that body only eighteen were from cities. it is the leaders of this vast rural population, members of ancient princely families or owners of great landed estates, these are the men who are coming out of long oblivion to help rule the destinies of a new russia. men like prince dolgorouki, some of them from families older than the romanoffs--such men it is who were the leaders in the _duma_. they have been for years studying these problems, and working among the _zemstvos_. they are country gentlemen of the old style,--sturdy, practical, imaginative, idealistic, and explosive; powerful in debate, bringing just at the right moment a new element, a new force. happy is russia in possessing such a reserve of splendid energy at this time. and if the moujik is not in the forefront of the conflict, he, too, affords a boundless ocean of elementary force--he is the simple barbarian, who will perhaps be needed to replenish with his fresh, uncorrupted blood the russia of a new generation. list of princes. grand princes of kief. rurik, . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . - oleg (brother of rurik, regent), . . . . . . - igor (son of rurik), . . . . . . . . . . . . - olga (wife of igor, regent), . . . . . . . . - sviatoslaf, . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . - vladimir (christianized russia, ), . . . . - yaroslaf (the legislator), . . . . . . . . . - (close of heroic period.) isiaslaf, . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . - vsevolod, . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . - sviatopolk, . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . - vladimir monomakh, . . . . . . . . . . . . . - (throne disputed by prince of suzdal.) isiaslaf, . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . - george dolgoruki (last grand prince of kief) - (fall of kief, .) andrew bogoliubski (first grand prince of suzdal), . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . - george ii. (dolgoruki), . . . . . . . . . . . - yaroslaf ii. (father of alexander nevski and grandfather of daniel, first prince of moscow), . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . - princes of moscow. daniel (son of alexander nevski), . . . . . . - iri (george) danielovich, . . . . . . . . . . - ivan i., . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . - simeon (the proud), . . . . . . . . . . . . . - ivan ii. (the debonair), . . . . . . . . . . - princes of moscow and grand princes of suzdal. dmitri donskoi, . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . - vasili dmitrievich, . . . . . . . . . . . . . - vasili i. (the blind, prince of moscow, novgorod, and suzdal), . . . . . . . . . . - grand princes of all the russias. ivan iii. (the great), . . . . . . . . . . . - vasili ii., . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . - tsars of russia. ivan iv. (the terrible), . . . . . . . . . . - feodor ivanovich, . . . . . . . . . . . . . . - boris godunof (usurper), . . . . . . . . . . - the false dmitri, . . . . . . . . . . . . . . - vasili shuiski, . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . - mikhail romanoff, . . . . . . . . . . . . . . - alexis (son of former and father of peter the great), . . . . . . . . . . . . . - feodor alexievich, . . . . . . . . . . . . . - ivan v. and peter i. ) sophia regent, ) ivan died . . . - peter i. (the great), . . . . . . . . . . . . - catherine i., . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . - peter ii. (son of alexis and grandson of peter the great and eudoxia), . . . . . . . - anna ivanovna (daughter of ivan v., niece of peter i.), . . . . . . . . . . . . . . - ivan vi. (infant nephew of former sovereign), - elizabeth petrovna (daughter of peter i. and catherine), . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . - peter iii. (nephew of elizabeth petrovna; reigned five months, assassinated), . . . . catherine ii. (wife of peter iii.), . . . . . - paul i. (son of former), . . . . . . . . . . - alexander i., . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . - nicholas i., . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . - alexander ii., . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . - alexander iii., . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . - nicholas ii., . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . - index. absolutism, act of union, adashef, , akhmet (khan), alexander i, , , , , , , , , alexander ii, , , , , , alexander iii, alexieff, admiral, , alexis, , , , , , , alexis orlof, , , alfred, duke of edinburgh, alice (princess), alma (the), anarchism, anastasia, , , , andrassy, angles, anna, , anna ivanovna, , , anthony, appanages, , apraxin, , arable steppes, araktcheef, aryan, , asia minor, asiatic mongols, askold, austerlitz, austria, , azof, sea of, bacon, francis, baikal, lake, balthazi, baltic (the), , , , baltic fleet, barren steppes, bashi-bazuks, basil, batui, beaconsfield, , berlin, treaty of, bessarabia, biron, , bismarck, black lands, , black sea, , , , bogoliubski (andrew), , , bohemians, , book of instruction, book of pedigrees, boris godunof, , , , , bosnia, , , bosphorus (the), , boxer war, boyars, , , , , bremen, britain, buddhism, bulgaria, , , , bulgarians, , burnett, bishop, byzantine, , , byzantine empire, , , byzantium, , , , , , , , calendar (new), candia, carpathians, caspian sea, cathay, catherine i, , , catherine ii, , , , , , , , catholics, caucasus, centaurs, charlemagne, charles martel, charles i, charles ii, charles x, charles xi, charles xii, , , , , , , , charlotte (princess), charlotte of brunswick, chemulpho (battle of), chersonesos, china, , china-japan war, , , chopin, christian ix, church of bethlehem, cincinnati, order of, circassia, code napoleon, commune (the), confucianism, constantine, grand duke, , , , , , constantinople, , , , , , , , , constitution, cossacks, , , council of the empire, , court of arbitration, cracow, , crimea, , , , crimean war, cyprus, dagmar, daimios, dalny, , , daniel, danube (the), dir, dmitri, , , , dmitri donskoi, dnieper (the), , , , , dolgorukis, dolgoruki (yuri), , , , dolgoruki (prince), , don (the), , drevlins (the), , drujina, , , drujiniki (the), duma, , , , , , , , , durnovo, m., eastern empire (the), eastern question, , ecclesiastical states, egypt, , electoral college, elizabeth petrovna, , , , , , emancipation law, , etrogruhl, eudoxia, , feodor, , , , , , ferdinand, , finland, , finns, , , , , , florence, formosa, francis ii, francis joseph, franks, frederick ii, frederick the great, , fundamental laws, , , galitsuin (prince), , gaul, gautama, genghis kahn, , georgia, german knights, german orders, , glinski (anna), glinski (helena), glück, godwin, golden horde, , gortchakof, , , goths (the), grand principality (the), great desert of gobi, great patriarchs, great tower of ivan, greece, greek church, , , , , greeks (the), , , gustavus adolphus, hague (the), , hague, the congress, hamburg, hanseatic league, harold, hastings, lady mary, haynau, hedwig, helen, helsingfors, henry viii, herodotus, herzegovina, , , hindostan, hohenzollern, holy alliance, holy roman empire, holy shrines, holy synod, horde (the), hungary, , huns, iagello, , icon, igor, , , , , imperator, indemnity, india, inouye, count, ionian isles, isabella, islamism, ito, marquis, ivan i, ivan iii (the great), , , , , , ivan iv (the terrible), , , , , , , , , , ivan (the imbecile), , ivan mazeppa, , , ivan v, ivan vi, , , ivan shuvalof, japan, japan-korea treaty, , japan treaty with u. s., , kaminski, battle of, karz, kazan, khazarui, the, , kiel, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , kishineff, komura, baron, , knout, königsberg, koreans, kosciusko, kossuth, , koulaks, kremlin (the), , , kublai-khan, kurland, duke of, kuropatkin, kutchko, kutuzof, lacour (m. de), laharpe, latin church, , , leipzig, leo vi, leo x, , liao-tung, gulf of, liberalism, li hung chang, li-ito treaty, lithuania, , , , , lithuanians (the), , , , little russia, , livonia, livonian knights, , livonian orders, lombardy, louis ix, louis xi, , , louis xiv, , louis xv, louis napoleon, louis phillippe, , lubeck, magyar, makaroff, m., , makaroff, admiral, malakof, manchuria, manchus (the), marco polo, marfa, maria theresa, marie, maximilian, menschikof, , , , , , , , merienburg, metropolitan (the), mickiewiz, mikhailof, peter, mir, , , mir-eaters, mirski, prince, , , mohammedanism, mongols, , , , , , monomakh, , , montenegro, , , moscow, , , , , , , , , , , , , moskwa (the), mukden, , muraviev, , , muscovite, , muscovy, , mussulman, napoleon bonaparte, , , , , , , narva, battle of, natalia, , , national assembly, , , nesselrode (count), nestor, , neva (the), , nevski, alexander, , , , , nevski, daniel, , nicholas i, , , , , , , , , , , , , nicholas ii, nicholas iii, nihilism, , , nikolaievsk, , nikon (patriarch), , nikopolis, nogi, general, norse, norsemen, , novgorod, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , odessa, oka (the), oleg, , , , , olga, , , osterman, othman, , ottoman, ottoman empire, , , , oyama, paleologisk, john, pantheon, paris, treaty of, patkul, , patriarchalism, patriarchate (the), patriarchs, paul i, , , , , , , peace conference, peace congress, pechenegs, , , pechili, gulf of, peloponnesus (the), , perry, commodore, perun, , , , , , , pestel, , peter the great, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , peter iii, , plague of moscow, plevna, pobiedonosteeff, , poland, , , , , , , , , , , , poles, poliani (the), polovtsui (the), , poltova, pope, pope leo vi, port arthur, , , , portsmouth, peace of, posadnik, , , potemkin, proteus, prussia, , pruth, treaty of, pskof, , , , pugatschek, the cossack, pushkin, pyrenees, raskolniks, , , , , reinforced defense, law of, , revolution of , rojestvenski, rollo, roman empire, , romanoff, , romanoff, mikhail, , , , rome, , romish church, rosen, baron, roosevelt, president, , roumania, ruileef, rurik, , , , , , , , russian academy, saardan, sagas, saghalien, , samurai, san stefano (treaty of), saracen, , sarat, , , , , saxons, scandinavia, scandinavians, , , , , scythians, , , , sea of azof, , , sebastopol, , , senate, sergius, grand duke, servia, , shantung, shintoism, shipka pass, siberia, siberia, maritime provinces of, sienkiewicz, sigismund, , silvesta, sineus, sisalpine, slav, , , , , , , , , , , , , , slavonia, , slavonic, , , , , sobor, , , socialism, sophia, , , , , , , , sophia, queen of prussia, sophia perovskaya, spain, speranski, , st. basil, church of, st. bartholomew, massacre, stoessel, general, st. paul, cathedral of, st. petersburg, , st. vladimir, stratford de redcliffe (lord), , stribog, strultsui, , , , suez canal, suleyman, the magnificent, suvorov, suzdal, , , , , sviatoslaf, , , , sweden, , , swedes, sword-bearers, tai-tsiu, tartar, , , , , , , takahira, kogaro, taxes, tchinovniks, teutonic order, togo, admiral, tokio, , tolstoi, , tong-hak rebellion, top knot (the), topography, trans-siberian railway, , treaty of , treaty with china, , truvor, tsar, tsarkoe-selo, palace of, tsushima, turguenief, , turk (the), , , , , , , turkey, turkish empire, , tycoon, united states, ural, , ussuri region, usury, vampires, varangians, , vasili, , , vasili ii, , , , vasili shuiski, verestchagin, vernet, horace, vetché, , , viborg, vich, victor emmanuel, visigoths, vistula, vladimir, , , , , , , vladivostok, , , vna, volga (the), , , volkof (the), volost, , , volus, von plehve, , , warsaw, university of, wei-hai-wei, battle of, , western empire (the), white seat (the), winter palace, , , , , william i, william iii, witte (m. de), yalu, the, yaroslaf i, , , yaroslaf ii, yaropolk, yellow sea (the), yermak, , zemstvo, , , , , zoë, princess, zone of forests, a journey in russia in _sherratt and hughes, printers, cross street, manchester_ a journey in russia in by robert heywood of the pike, bolton _privately printed_ explanation. this account of a journey to russia was read by mr. heywood at a meeting of the bolton mechanics' institute, and the following is a copy of a resolution passed on the occasion, with the signatures attached. we, the undersigned members of the committee of the bolton mechanics' institution, having listened with much pleasure to mr. heywood's lecture on his recent visit to st. petersburg and moscow, and being desirous that the valuable information it supplies should be made available to our families, fellow workmen and others, who are greatly interested in the subject from the large commercial intercourse between this town and the capitals of russia, beg leave most respectfully to request mr. heywood to publish the substance of his valuable paper for the gratification and information of the public. and we request the president of the institution to wait upon mr. heywood with this requisition, and to use his best efforts to induce that gentleman to accede to our request. gilbert j. french. thos. holden. john wrigley. alfred ridings. james fogg. alex. lawson. edward bland. john lomax. wm. jackson. thomas waterhouse. josh. peat. j. j. bradshaw. thomas bromley. joseph kirkham. isaac barrow. adam ferguson. william a. ferguson. w. h. horrocks. the request, however, was not put into execution. m. h., . a journey in russia in . at the urgent request of our worthy and most active president, i have been induced to follow the example of several other friends of this institution, and bring before you some account of a short visit to st. petersburg and moscow. i may premise that about fourteen years ago, on our return from egypt, vià constantinople, i and my companion, mr. charles darbishire, were placed in quarantine at a station overlooking the black sea. along with us we had a russian nobleman[ ] and his tutor, who were returning from a pilgrimage to jerusalem. during the fifteen days' confinement, whilst occupying separate apartments, we frequently interchanged visits, and on such occasions the manners and condition of our respective countries became the frequent subject of conversation. such discussions did not terminate without receiving urgent invitations to visit russia, offering, at the same time, to procure for us every facility for seeing the cities to advantage; and also an order from the gentleman's father,[ ] who was at the head of the postal department, which would command for us horses and conveyances through every part of russia. since that time i have frequently contemplated visiting the north of europe, but, from various causes, have deferred such undertaking till the last summer, when, finding my fellow traveller unwilling to leave home, i induced another individual[ ] to accompany me after much difficulty in reconciling herself to so long an absence from attractions usually found at home. we set off on the th of june, and sailed the following day from grimsby for st. petersburg in the "atlantic," a fine screw steamer, , tons burden, feet long, and engines of horse power, with thirty passengers. on setting out the weather was delightful, with a smooth sea, so that we remained on deck all day, enjoying the promenade, though it was somewhat restricted by numerous bales of cotton. the following day proved cloudy and much colder, followed by a stiff breeze through the night, rocking some of us without getting us to sleep. on the th we rejoiced to see _terra firma_, and about ten in the evening landed a passenger at elsinore. here the sea becomes much narrower, bringing into view more than fifty vessels, no longer delayed by the payment of sound dues which were compounded for some years ago with the kingdom of denmark. early the following morning we anchored opposite copenhagen, and a boat being sent off for provisions, enabled some of us to go ashore and walk through some of the principal streets and take a glance at one of their numerous public gardens. on resuming our course, we passed a long range of nets kept afloat by logs of wood every thirty or forty yards; and near goat island we observed a large number of planks floating by for several hours, the cargo of some unfortunate vessel. here we saw three gulls, the only birds we had observed in all our passage, and no fish, not even a porpoise, which should more readily be excused as they are mostly seen in stormy weather. in the course of conversation with one of the passengers we were glad to learn that our russian friend was residing in one of the palaces at st. petersburg, and also that he would be able to render us most valuable services. we arrived at cronstadt on the th, having had on the whole a pleasant voyage, with agreeable company, but not without some feeling of commiseration for the poor stokers working so hard in a dusty heated atmosphere. cronstadt is the chief station of the russian navy, and the fortifications are very extensive, including two circular batteries a short distance from the shore, having three tiers and a range of guns at the top, but so ill-constructed, we were told, as to be rendered almost useless for want of ventilation. here our passports were examined, and the passengers along with their luggage were transferred to a smaller steamer to convey us up the neva to st. petersburg. soon after leaving cronstadt, on the right are seen the gilded towers of the palace of peterhof, and a little further we discern a large golden ball, the dome of st. isaac, with the glittering taper spire rising from the admiralty. approaching nearer, we see numerous domes and spires, painted blue and green, with silver and golden stars. along the banks of the neva are quays, constructed in the most substantial manner out of large blocks of granite. before being permitted to land there was a further inspection of our passports, and our luggage was conveyed to the searching house. here we found a commissioner from the miss bensons, the proprietresses of a celebrated boarding-house, to whom we had written a short time before. having but a few books, the examination passed off very quickly, and we were soon conveyed to their delightful establishment, beautifully situated on the english quay. it was well that we had written, as we found the house quite full, consisting chiefly of english travellers; everything proved so nice and comfortable that we soon found ourselves more at home than we could have expected. so far i have proceeded as from a diary, but in future, though i shall confine myself almost entirely to such objects as come under our actual notice, i shall find it necessary in describing many particulars to quote largely from murray and some other authorities. the weather, we were told, had been very wet and cold for a much longer period than usual, but had suddenly changed to brighter skies and a delightful atmosphere. the days, of course, are here much longer, but what surprised us most was the brilliant twilight, eclipsing every star and enabling us to read the newspaper at midnight. our first business was to communicate by telegraph the important news of our safe arrival; and early the following morning we received the joyful intelligence of all being well at home. to some of you this may be considered a circumstance hardly worth relating, but let such persons go a considerable distance from home leaving behind them valuable treasures and their views and feelings will undergo considerable change. on enquiring about adlerberg, my quarantine associate, we were sorry to learn that he had set off that morning with the emperor for archangel, proving himself by that circumstance, as well as from what we heard in all quarters, to be no unimportant personage, second only, they said, to the emperor himself. st. petersburg--so called from its founder in --is situated on a marshy plain so far north as to be locked up one half of the year, and, notwithstanding such unfavourable circumstances, has become one of the handsomest cities in europe, containing a population of about , . the streets are spacious and well laid out, some of them two or three miles long, and, though not often exceeding three storeys, the houses are very lofty. it has been called another venice on account of the numerous canals communicating with the river neva, which afford a ready transit to all parts of the city and at the same time greatly assist the drainage, which otherwise would prove very imperfect. the neva is a beautiful river, about as wide as the thames in london, but not so polluted. above the city are numerous islands, on which are erected beautiful villas, mostly constructed of wood in a fanciful style, and painted various colours with gardens very tastefully laid out. besides numerous delightful drives among these islands they are made further accessible by small steamers. they are also connected by wooden bridges resting on boats which are removed before the winter season sets in, being not then required and also liable to great injury by the breaking up of the ice. but lower down there is one bridge constructed of iron of seven arches and , feet long and feet wide, costing a million and a quarter sterling. besides steamers there are many other boats, some very large rudely constructed, bringing wood from the lake of ladoga, mostly birch, cut in short lengths for fuel, and others freighted with leather, hemp and various products from the interior. in discharging these boats with fuel the serfs[ ] make use of a sort of truck with a framework to hold the billets, and the wheels, being not more than six or seven inches in diameter, require a narrow plank to be laid across the street a little below the uneven pavement. they have also a very defective mode of watering the streets; fetching the water in buckets and putting it into a larger vessel upon wheels from which they sprinkle the streets, instead of pumping up the water into a machine and distributing it as it goes along. on account of the boggy state of the ground the buildings are constructed on piles at an enormous expense, so that it has been said by an english resident that larger sums had been expended under ground than above, which i can the more readily believe after witnessing the extraordinary foundations of a new palace now in the course of erection. most of the buildings, including palaces and churches, are built of brick, and covered with a cement of various colours; often out of condition and presenting a less substantial appearance. the pavement is generally in a bad state, consisting mostly of pebbles of every size mingled together, and all, i should say, wrong side up, in some places a yard or two without any at all. this condition of the streets, with the droshkies, a small four-wheel carriage, holding two persons, sitting together behind the driver, or sometimes back to back, with the fore-wheels about twelve inches high, and drawn very rapidly over such a pavement, you may suppose, makes it no easy matter to keep your seat. the droshky drivers have generally a round hat, and wear long loose dresses almost reaching to their heels, with a band round their waist. they carry a tin plate between their shoulders with a number on it; never drive with blinkers, and rarely use a whip, but having a rein in each hand, urge on their little horses at great speed over the uneven pavement without once coming down, so far as we observed. there are other carriages like our english cabs drawn by one or two horses, but the droshky is in most general use. we did not see many equipages, most of the nobility having left the city, and very few gentlemen on horseback save a few cossacks or other military. passing through the streets, we were astonished at the vast number of pigeons flying in all directions, and frequently alighting in the most crowded parts of the city. this bird, we were informed, is held sacred by the natives, and of course would soon become very numerous if they were not diminished by foreigners and others less scrupulous, who are supposed to convey them quietly from their roosting quarters to form an important part in culinary operations. the working men go about in what we were used to call top-boots, and even little boys have them, with the upper part variously coloured, but mostly red, a favourite colour in russia. the serf wears a long coat reaching to the calves of his legs, with a number of gathers fastened together at the waist by a strap, in which he tucks his gloves, his whip or his axe. his shirt of checked linen, not often washed, and his neck entirely bare, with the lower garment consisting of wide linen trousers. with the use of stockings he appears totally unacquainted, wrapping his feet in linen rags. his shoes are a sort of sandal made of linden bark or leather, continuing his ragged wrapper up to his knees, binding it round with pack thread. the covering of his head is a deep crowned hat with narrow brim. the serfs pay about ten or twelve roubles annually (about £ sterling) to their nobles, and also a certain proportion from the women and children. if not able to make up the tribute they must beg, borrow or steal to make up the deficiency. their food consists chiefly of vegetables, and coarse fish, with black bread made of rye, but considered very nutritious. both sexes wear a crucifix on their breasts, suspended round their necks by a string, which is put on at their baptism and never afterwards taken off; those of the peasants are of lead, but the better sort have them of silver or gold. in my several rambles over various parts of the continent i have scarcely ever found any difficulty with a little knowledge of the french language in making myself understood, but here it was very different; in vain we addressed many respectable persons we met with in the streets respecting some public buildings, and we found every droshky man quite uncommunicative, so that directions had to be given at the hotel of our intended route, and if we changed our driver we managed to return by pointing the way, right or left. all this might have been obviated by the use of a few russian words, but our time seemed too short to look into the vocabulary. our first drive was past the statue of peter the great, near the admiralty, st. isaac's cathedral, and along the nevskoi prospect, the regent street of st. petersburg, three miles long and very wide, having in some parts the advantage of a wooden pavement. in this street are numerous shops with large signboards containing some letters of an unusual form, but rendered more intelligible by drawings of some of the articles to be sold. in the same street, on the opposite side, are also to be seen houses, or rather palaces, so large that fifty extend over an english mile. at the end of this street is situated the monastery of st. alexander nevskoi, one of the most celebrated in russia, containing within its walls towers, churches and gardens, with many paintings, and a very remarkable monument of alexander nevskoi, of massive silver, which, with its ornaments, weighs , lbs. of pure metal. there is a library containing many valuable manuscripts, also a cemetery of such great repute that large sums are said to be paid for permission to repose in its holy ground. our second drive was to the summer gardens, which are laid out in long avenues of fine old trees, interspersed with varied walks, flower beds and numerous beautiful marble statues, forming a delightful retreat, but attended with an enormous expense, as many of the tender trees and shrubs, and even statues, require a careful covering through the winter. from the gardens we proceeded to the original wooden palace, or cottage of peter the great, situated on one of the islands. it consists of three small rooms, one his bedroom, another his reception room, and a third his chapel, where the pictures he worshipped are carefully preserved. many relics are still to be seen, a boat and sails, with an old armchair, all which are said to have been made by his own hands. the place was crowded by his devoted admirers, more particularly the chapel, which with numerous lighted candles purchased by the visitors, was heated almost to suffocation. the whole is covered over by a brick building to preserve it from the effects of the weather. we then proceeded to the botanical gardens, situated on another island. here are numerous conservatories, comprising a great variety of camellias, heaths and ferns and several very large palm-houses, containing some very fine specimens. we then visited the church of st. peter and st. paul, which we found undergoing extensive repairs. in this church are deposited the remains of peter the great and all his imperial successors, the preceding emperors having been buried at moscow. the very great simplicity and absence of all ornament form a striking but most becoming contrast to the usual display in many other churches. the coffins, being placed in walls, are covered with a plain stone sarcophagus. on some the pall is embroidered in golden letters, on others nothing but the initial. from the roof are suspended numerous tattered banners, and on one side are hung the keys of paris and other french fortresses. hitherto we had taken advantage of the fine weather in driving about the city, visiting the islands and the public gardens, but this favour not being continued we turned our attention to the palaces, of which, murray says, no other modern city can boast an equal number. the winter palace, the most splendid and largest royal residence in the world, is feet in length, three storeys high, and nearly square, and is said to have , persons under its roof during the emperor's residence in the capital. among the extensive suite of apartments, galleries and halls filled with marbles, precious stones, vases, and pictures may be mentioned, first, the hall of st. george, where the emperor gives audience to foreign ambassadors. it is feet by feet, on the splendour of which the russians most pride themselves. the empress's drawing-room is considered to be a perfect gem of taste. beyond this is the salle blanche, or white saloon, a very chaste and most elegant apartment, its decorations and marble columns all in pure white relieved only in gilding, the dimensions being nearly the same as the hall. then the diamond room, containing the crown and jewels of the imperial family. here diamonds, rubies and emeralds are ranged round the room in small cases, of such dazzling beauty that it is almost bewildering to look at them. the crown of the emperor is adorned with diamonds of an extraordinary size, and the imperial sceptre contains the largest in the world, the kohinoor excepted; it was purchased by the empress catherine for , roubles, or £ , sterling. in addition to the splendid apartments just described there is also a small room occupied by the late emperor nicholas containing a very small hard bed on which he died, this being almost the only room he occupied in that grand building. this room is held in great respect, and everything remains in the same state in which he left it. his mind was bent on other objects than mere splendour. about twenty years ago this gigantic pile of building fell a prey to the ravages of fire, and in a few hours were consumed much of those treasures and works of art which had been collected during the prosperous reigns of elizabeth and catherine. kohl, speaking of its immense extent, says: "the suites of apartments were a perfect labyrinth, so that even the chief of the imperial household, who had filled the office for twelve years, was not perfectly acquainted with all its nooks and corners." though the crown jewels and most valuable articles were saved from the flames still the destruction of property must have been immense, spread over a surface of such enormous extent; the principal rooms alone, nearly one hundred in number, occupied on the first floor an area of , square feet. so great was the daring exhibited by the watchmen to preserve the property that, to the credit of the emperor nicholas, it is said that he ordered some officers to go and smash the large mirrors in order to prevent the soldiers and people from sacrificing themselves in making any further attempts to save the property. in one point of view this destructive fire has proved an advantage, for the custom of consigning to solitude those suites of rooms occupied by deceased sovereigns had here closed so many of the finest apartments that in a few more generations the reigning monarch would have been fairly turned out by the ghosts of his predecessors. the hermitage is connected with the winter palace by several covered galleries, and forms a sort of continuation of that vast building. it was erected by the empress catherine as a luxurious retreat. the collection of paintings occupies about forty rooms, and is of immense value. three or four rooms are entirely filled with jewels and articles of vertu, among these a superb vase of siberian jaspar of lilac colour, and others of malachite, with two magnificent candelabras valued at £ , . the ground floor with statuary. three rooms containing more than , specimens of engravings, and two rooms are occupied by a collection of coins and medals. the cameos amount to the number of , , including specimens of the greatest beauty and scarcity. besides a theatre, there is a library containing more than , volumes, , in the russian language. the marble palace, so called, is built of red granite, and is the residence of the grand duke constantine. the taurida palace, now in a neglected state, is famous for its ballroom, feet long by feet wide, and lighted up with , wax candles. among other numerous palaces may be mentioned the michaelhof, erected by the emperor paul with extraordinary rapidity, there being , men employed daily, and in order to dry the walls more quickly large iron plates were made hot and fastened to them. yet after the emperor's death it was abandoned as quite uninhabitable after a cost of eighteen millions of roubles, or three millions sterling. the room in which the emperor died is sealed and walled up, and the palace is now converted into a school of engineers. the imperial library is one of the most extensive in europe, containing , volumes and , manuscripts. st. petersburg has only about thirty churches, the four principal the kazan, st. isaac, the smolnoi and st. peter and st. paul. the first of these, kazan, is a copy, though on a small scale, of st. peter's at rome, with its colonnade, and adorned with colossal statues. in the interior are fifty-six marble columns, each feet in height, hewn out of a single block of marble. the walls and flooring of the same are all beautifully polished. that part which answers to our chancel, in all greek churches is looked upon as the holy of holies, shut off from the rest of the building by a screen, called the iconostat. this is set apart for the priests: laymen may enter, but no woman, not even the empress, can go into this mysterious enclosure. in this church, all its beams and posts are of massive silver, the three doors and arches being feet in height above the altar. we could not learn, says murray, how many hundredweight of silver were employed, but doubtless many thousands of dozens of french and german spoons, and hundreds of soup tureens and tea pots must have been melted down by the cossacks in and as offerings to the holy mother of kazan, this madonna being held by them in peculiar veneration. the members of the greek religion pray standing,--the interior of the church is always devoid of pew, bench, or chair; but in every church there is a place set apart for the emperor to stand in, which is raised above the floor, and usually covered with a canopy. an exception has been made in favour of the dowager empress on account of ill-health. this standing during a service, continuing two hours, must prove very fatiguing, but is a sure preventive of sleeping. behind and in front the ceremonies are performed by numerous priests, fine looking men, with long flowing beards, in robes of most costly materials; the genuflexions are numerous and very low, incense is much used, and there are some good pictures, but no statuary and no organ or other instrumental music; but the chanting is peculiar and very striking. whilst in catholic countries the churchgoers are mostly women; in russia we find both sexes engaged in such duties. on entering the church a wax candle is purchased, and sinking on one knee, bowing his head to the pavement and crossing his breast respectively with the thumb and the two forefingers of his right hand, the worshipper proceeds to the shrine itself, he lights his candle at the holy lamp, and sets it up in one of the numerous sockets in a large silver stand; then, falling low on his bended knee, kisses the pavement before the altar. this we witnessed on another visit, carried out to a most extravagant extent. a young man, almost the only worshipper present, bowed down from a standing position more than sixty times, bumping his head with such force upon the marble floor as to be heard distinctly a considerable distance--a case of insanity, you will suppose, or likely soon to become so. flame is considered the best spiritual representation; no interment, baptism, or any sacred ceremony is thought of without lamp or taper, greatly exceeding what takes place in the catholic church. even the exchange is not without its saint and lamp continually burning. on the sunday we went to the grand church dedicated to st. isaac, commenced in and only opened a fortnight before our arrival. this church, with almost the grandeur of st. peter's at rome, though not so favourably situated, excels in beauty both the interior and exterior of the madeleine in paris. in the foundation of this wonderful structure were driven , piles, the work of ten engines for a whole year; on these were placed two layers of blocks of granite, carefully worked and never again to be seen, being feet below the surface of the street. they serve as a base to the walls of the cathedral, of which the more important are granite, to the level of the pavement, the remainder being constructed with compact masonry, bed upon bed, costing £ , . the portico on each of the four fronts consists of twelve corinthian columns, each feet diameter, and feet long, in one block. the dome is surrounded by columns, each feet in height, and is constructed of metal, viz., tons of copper, tons of brass, tons wrought iron, , tons of cast iron, and lbs. of ducat gold. three of the doors are feet high and feet wide, four others feet high and wide. the interior is the form of a great cross, with the dome in the centre, the altar screen feet long and feet high, of white marble, encrusted with porphyry, jasper and other precious stones, and enriched with eight corinthian columns of malachite and two lapis lazuli feet high, and the doors into the chancel of silver, containing scriptural expressions feet high and wide, the whole costing millions of roubles, or say in round numbers, ½ millions sterling. the day we attended proved a fête day, and of course was very much crowded by all ranks, from the richest noble to the humblest serf, in one general mass. there were upwards of priests officiating in their gorgeous robes, performing various ceremonies amidst frequent processions, and occasionally reading from one of their sacred books in so loud and distinct a tone as to be heard through the immense cathedral, and at other times chanting in deep bass tones, varied by the assistance of young choristers, with the sweetest voices, producing the most delightful harmony. during the service, which lasted ½ hours, the cathedral was illuminated by seven chandeliers, containing each candles, and other smaller ones, all of silver; in addition to these were many votive candles purchased by various worshippers and deposited in sockets of a silver frame work placed near the altar, amounting altogether to not fewer than , lights. st. petersburg can boast of several large monuments, the ramanzof erected to the field-marshal of that name, and suwaroff, one of their most distinguished heroes; also the column of alexander, a single shaft of red granite, upwards of feet in height. the base and pedestal is composed of one enormous block, above feet square, and to secure the base there were no fewer than six successive rows of piles, the shaft of the column alone weighing nearly tons. on the pedestal is the following short and well-chosen inscription: "to alexander the great; grateful russia." but the most wonderful of all is the well-known equestrian statue of peter the great, representing the emperor riding up a rock and subduing a serpent. the huge block of granite which forms the pedestal, and weighs , tons, was brought from lacte, a village four miles from st. petersburg, at a cost of , roubles, or £ , sterling. it was originally feet long, feet high, and feet in width, but broke into two pieces, which were subsequently patched together, the whole cost amounting to , roubles, or upwards of £ , . after surveying the palaces and public buildings in the city, we turned our attention to those in the environs, and proceeded in a steamer to peterhof, about fifteen miles down the river. nothing can be finer than the situation of this palace, commanding an extensive view of the neva from cronstadt to st. petersburg, with beautiful waterworks, considered little inferior to those at versailles, with a magnificent jet called the sampson, a colossal bronze figure, tearing open the jaws of a lion, whence rushes the water from a height of feet. besides numerous other jets sending the water in all directions, there is a broad flight of steps, and on each side a range of marble slabs to the top of the hill, over which the water pours down, so far apart, as to allow on fête nights, variegated lamps to be arranged behind the water, forming the most beautiful cascade. passing through the palace, containing numerous pictures, marbles and vases that we had not time to inspect, we came to the gardens, kept in the strictest order. in the varied walks and borders of flowers are numerous seats to accommodate a large assemblage of people, and two bands of music playing alternately. descending from the palace to the seashore, the garden is laid out in terraces, and adorned with fountains, waterfalls, and statuary. here are the oak and lime trees, planted by peter himself, and at the end of one of the walks is situated monplaisir, a low dutch-built summer house, where the great peter breathed his last, and his bed remains untouched since his death, but is now fast crumbling to decay. another day we set off by railway to tzarskoe selo, a very extensive royal residence, and favourite resort of the imperial family. at the entrance to the grounds of the palace are two small towers, covered with egyptian figures. the façade of the palace is , feet in length. originally every statue, pedestal and capital of the numerous columns, the vases, carving and other ornaments in front were covered with gold leaf, costing more than a million of ducats. the rooms in this palace, like all others, are richly decorated with simple white and gold, or hung with rich silks. one very elegant room, called the lapis lazuli, has strips of this stone inlaid in the walls, and the floor of this apartment is of ebony, inlaid with large flowers of mother of pearl, forming one of the most splendid contrasts possible. but the wonder of this palace is the famous amber room, the walls of which are literally panelled with this material in various designs. the state apartments are, as usual, lavishly covered with gold, one part occupied by a collection of the most splendid china vases, and other costly articles. here are pointed out the simple rooms occupied by the late emperor alexander i, whom all seem to remember with great affection. his apartments have been kept exactly as he left them when he departed for tagannag. this account of the interior, i should observe, is taken from the guide book, as we could not obtain admission, being unfortunately on the wrong day, perhaps the only time we regretted not having with us the all-important order from prince adlerberg. not gaining admission left us more time to spend in the grounds, which extend over eighteen miles in circumference. the gardens are certainly kept in the very highest order, the trees and flowers are watched and inspected with the greatest minuteness. an old invalid soldier commands his or men as gardeners and overseers. every leaf that falls in pond or canal is carefully fished up. they trim and polish the trees and paths in the gardens to the greatest nicety, and the grass borders are kept in the finest condition. the cost of all this polishing and extreme attention is above , roubles yearly. very odd caprices are exhibited in the decoration of the grounds, several fanciful towers, a dutch and swiss cottage, a gothic building, a marble bridge with corinthian columns, bronze and other statues, and numerous monuments raised by alexander to his companions in arms, intermingled with hermitages, artificial ruins, roman tombs, grottoes and waterfalls. like almost all other royal buildings in russia, tzarskoe owes its origin to peter the great. he erected the first house here, and planted the avenues of plane trees with his own hand. we had a great desire to drive about the grounds, and made several attempts with the droshky drivers, but could not make ourselves understood either with regard to the terms or the route we should take. at length we succeeded in getting a carriage to pavlofsky, another imperial residence, by mentioning the name and offering a sum which we found afterwards was much more than the distance justified. the palace is not particularly distinguished, and the gardens are resorted to as a sort of vauxhall, with bands of music and other similar entertainments. among other public buildings at st. petersburg should be mentioned the exchange. a stately flight of steps leads to this great hall, which is lighted from above; on both sides are spaces in the form of arcades. in one of the first stands an altar with a lamp constantly burning for the benefit of the pious russian merchants, who always bow to the altar and sometimes prostrate themselves to implore the favour of some favourite saint to prosper their undertakings. here i may mention the several sorts of money circulating in this country. one hundred kopecks make a rouble, about s. d. english money, always used as the basis in commercial transactions; a few silver coins, , , , and a few kopecks, but of the last these generally appear in notes of , , , , and roubles; some coppers, ¼ to kopecks. the gold coins are the imperial, half imperial, and one between, but these we did not see, being, we suppose, as cobbett used to say, unwilling to associate with dirty ragged companions. they have a curious mode of reckoning by means of a frame with a number of parallel wires, on which are strung ten black balls and ten white balls, or sometimes a greater number, the lowest being taken as units, the next as tens, and the third as hundreds, &c. among the public buildings we also observed several towers or fire signals--high buildings, from which with rods of iron in various directions are given the earliest intimation of fire, which is communicated by a flag in the day or lamps in the night. these towers were formerly more necessary when a large part of the city was built of wood. we should not omit to mention an immense bazaar, of yards frontage and nearly the same backward, containing almost every article for sale. after staying a week at st. petersburg we set off to moscow by railway, starting at o'clock at noon. after getting our tickets, paying about the same as in this country, with a little extra for luggage, we passed into a large waiting room, and there remained till the doors were opened upon the platform about five minutes before setting off. many of the travellers, particularly ladies, were seen carrying large pillows or cushions to repose upon, thereby filling the carriages to suffocation, and this in july. the carriages are much like ours in appearance, but instead of three there are nine carriages joined together, with a passage down the centre, the same as in america. the first class has a small compartment for one of the conductors or guards, then a saloon, with a sofa on each side, and the remainder, two seats on one side and one on the other, which, with the passage, require a wider gauge, something like the great western. the second class is much the same, with rather less upholstering; and the third without cushions. the rail appeared strong and very substantially laid, and is carried in a straight level line for miles together through forests of great extent. at each station a person goes round striking the wheels and axles to see that all is sound. the engines are supplied with wood fuel, and seemed powerful, dragging us along in some parts with great rapidity. the forest trees, consisting chiefly of pine, birch, and mountain ash, with a few oaks and beech, did not appear so large as i expected, nor was our monotonous course enlivened by the sight of an occasional bear or eagle, being, we suppose, gone from home. along some parts of the line we observed the corduroy road (trees laid close together), and gates formed of long poles counterpoised by a thicker part at the other end. there are thirty-three stations built upon one plan, spacious and convenient, all on a level with the entrances to the carriages; two or three of these are well supplied with eatables and drinkables, which were by no means neglected; also a great consumption of tea, a very general beverage in russia, served in glass tumblers with lemon juice instead of cream, which we did not consider a good substitute; though accompanied with good bread and butter, proved to us far more acceptable than many other dishes. smoking, everywhere so common, is here indulged to the greatest excess, and not confined to one sex, several ladies sporting their cigarettes. if not many passengers, a lady is usually accommodated with a double seat. i have mentioned the prevailing habit of bowing to the saints. this occurred on our journey, and on looking back, i found we had just passed a church at a considerable distance. we arrived at moscow at eight o'clock the following morning, having performed the journey, miles, in twenty hours, stopping at the various stations about ½ hours, this journey formerly requiring twelve to fifteen days. it was raining very hard, but by the kindness of a gentleman we were helped to a cab, and after giving the necessary directions, we proceeded to the hotel which had been recommended to us, but found it full. with the second hotel on our list we were more successful. after breakfast, the rain continuing, my secretary,[ ] engaged herself writing home, whilst i proceeded to present our letters of introduction. one of these friends helped us to a guide, and also engaged a carriage to facilitate our future movements. moscow has a population of about , , with innumerable churches, towers, gilded spires and domes. the roofs of the houses are constructed of sheet iron, and painted white, red and green, all of them glittering in the sun, and presenting a truly splendid appearance. it was built about years ago, and remained the metropolis of russia till the beginning of the last century. the exterior wall of the city is upwards of twenty english miles in extent and presents a striking contrast to st. petersburg. in some streets we come to a large palace and then to a wretched hovel. another time we see a row of little cottages of one storey standing next to a stately mansion, and in other places little streets as in a country town. in the centre of this vast collection of buildings is the kremlin, situated on a hill nearly two miles in circumference; it is surrounded by high walls of stone and brick, with several towers and gates, the most important of which is the gate of the redeemer. over the arch of which is a picture of the saviour, with a lamp constantly burning. the passage through the tower is about twenty paces long and every one, be he what he may, mahommedan, heathen or christian, must take off his hat and keep it off till he has passed through to the other side. it is a truly singular sight to watch the carriages coming along at full speed slackening their pace as they approach the sacred gate, while the lord and lackey cross themselves reverently and drive through hat in hand. the first time, forgetting to uncover, i was reminded by a sentinel at some distance, and also my companion to put down her parasol. the greatest care is taken not to allow dogs to enter through the gate. within the kremlin are contained all the most interesting and historically important buildings of moscow, the holiest churches, with the tombs of the ancient tzars, patriarchs and metropolitans, the remains of the ancient palace of the tzars, the new one of the late emperor, the arsenal, the senate house and architectural memorials of every period of russian history, for every russian monarch has held it his duty to adorn the kremlin with some monument. in the new palace erected by the emperor alexander after the great conflagration of , the most remarkable apartment is that of the emperors containing a bed with a straw mattress, half a dozen leather-covered chairs, and a small looking-glass, making up the whole of the furniture. the little palace erected by the emperor nicholas has some valuable paintings and a good library. here is also another bedroom more wonderful than that just described. the former emperor slept on straw covered with leather, but it was loosely stuffed; the mattress of the emperor nicholas, on which he lay is stuffed so that a shutter in its absence would prove no great inconvenience. it is difficult to say how many churches there are in moscow, the several accounts differ so widely. some speak of , , others ; the former number must include public and private chapels, and those in convents, but the holiest of them all are three in the kremlin. though not extensive, they are crowded with pictures and shrines, the heavy pillars that support the fine cupolas are covered with gold from top to bottom, and the walls the same with large fresco paintings, darkened by age. here is mount sinai, and a golden moses of pure gold, with a golden table of the law, and also a golden coffer to contain the host, said to weigh , ducats. a bible, the gift of the mother of peter the great, the cover so laden with gold and jewels that it requires two men to carry it into the church; it is said to weigh lbs. the emeralds on the cover are an inch long, and the whole binding cost , , roubles, or £ , sterling. in the house of the holy synod are thirty silver vessels containing the holy oil used in baptising all the children in russia. it is made of the finest florence oil, mingled with a number of essences, about three or four gallons serving all russia for one and a half or two years. here one of our fellow travellers, impelled by that curiosity common to the sex, dipped her finger into one of the holy jars and forthwith anointed herself, bidding me to do the same; and, thus tempted, i followed her example and also tried its efficacy upon my other half, without finding, i must confess, any material change. i have since thought that such antics, though not done in derision, might have proved serious and led to our detention and perhaps final removal to a distant part of the empire. in the church of st. michael the archangel are the tombs of the russian sovereigns, which are raised sepulchres, mostly of brick, in the shape of a coffin and about two feet high. in addition to the churches and palaces there is in the kremlin an immense pile of buildings called the senate. in the upper storey are collected and arranged the crowns of the early tzars, also a throne covered with crimson velvet and blazing with diamonds. the two long galleries which open out of this room contain innumerable treasures, the captured crowns of the various countries now forming provinces of this vast empire, as well as those of the moscovite tzars, one containing diamonds, another , and that of catherine, the first widow of peter the great, , fine diamonds, to which the empress added a ruby of enormous size. in addition to these crowns are several rich diadems similarly ornamented. many thrones are to be seen in these rooms, one adorned with , turquoises and other precious stones--that of michael romanoff, the first of the reigning families, is enriched with , diamonds, and the throne of alexis contains diamonds and , jewels and many pearls. besides these numerous thrones, there are saddles, bridles, and reins and saddle cloths covered most lavishly with diamonds, amethysts and large turquoises--a large boss, adorning the horse's chest, in the centre of which is an immense diamond, and round this a circle of pink topazes, enclosed in pearls, and these again by diamonds, the whole encircled by a broad gold band. but perhaps the greatest curiosity is a pair of old wooden chairs, used at the coronation of the emperors. though made of coarse wood they are said to contain , precious stones. the whole extent of one wall is occupied by an array of boots, from the iron jack boots of peter to the delicate beaver skin of the emperor alexander. on the other side are suspended some damascus scimitars, and very curious chinese sabres. the arsenal contains nearly cannon, weighing about tons, a great number french, taken during the disastrous retreat in . among all these warlike trophies you will be proud to learn very few are english. close to the tower of ivan veliki is placed on a massive pedestal the mighty bell. it was cast by the command of the empress ann in , and bears her figure in flowing robes on its surface, beneath which is a deep border of flowers. it is said the tower on which it was originally hung was burnt in , and its fall buried the enormous mass deep in the earth, and broke a huge fragment from it. in the spring of , exactly a century after it fell, the emperor nicholas caused it to be removed and placed on its present pedestal, with the broken fragment beside it. the fragment is about feet high and feet thick. the height of the whole bell is feet inches and feet inches in diameter, and weighs , lbs., or more than tons, and is supposed to have cost £ , , as in addition to the copper, many persons, during the process of casting, threw large quantities of gold and silver into each of the four furnaces. the tower of john the great is more than feet high, surmounted by a gilded dome, of which there are about in the kremlin. in the first storey hangs a bell, which but for its mightier neighbour below would appear stupendous, being tons. to ring it is impossible; even to toll it requires the united strength of three men pulling with separate ropes the vast clapper; above this are or more. the cathedral of st. basil, situated outside the kremlin, is a truly grotesque building, having no less than towers and domes, all of different shapes and sizes, and painted in every possible colour. some are crowned with a network of green over a surface of yellow; another dome is bright red, with broad white stripes, and a third is gilded. it is said to be a whim of the tzar ivan the terrible to see how many distinct chapels could be erected under one roof in a given space of ground, so that services could be performed at one time without interrupting each other. it is further related that the tzar was so delighted with the architect that when the edifice was finished he sent for him, pronounced a high eulogium on his work, and then ordered his eyes to be put out so that he could never build such another. the chapel of the iberian mother of god is situated in an archway; and at the further end is the saint herself in a kind of sanctuary. her complexion, like most of the russian saints, is a dark brown, not to say black. round her head is a net of pearls, on one shoulder a large jewel is fastened, and another of equal brilliancy rests on her brow, above which, the whole being lighted up by thirteen silver lamps, glitters a splendid crown. pass whenever he pleases, the traveller will find the chapel beset by worshippers. her hand and the foot of the child are covered with dirt from the abundant kissing, and have almost disappeared. none ever pass, however urgent their business, without bowing and crossing themselves; the greater part actually enter, kneel devoutly before the mother, and pray with fervent sighs. fashionable ladies leave their equipages and prostrate themselves in the dust along with the meanest beggars. it is frequently visited by the tzars, and it is said that alexander the first never omitted to do so, and more than once in the middle of the night he wakened the monks that he might perform his devotions. in addition to all these places of worship, there is an immense cathedral dedicated to jesus, erected on rising ground a little out of the city. it has taken years in building, and will require as many more to complete it; the interior presenting only a forest of props placed in all directions. the dome is very large, resembling that of st. isaac, and equally splendidly gilt. besides the churches, there are numerous convents and monasteries. two of the principal we visited, and found them to consist of several churches, surrounded by a high wall, with many towers and a few pieces of ordnance, having all the appearance of a fortress. as usual, the churches were greatly ornamented with pictures and gilding, but the most attractive part of the russian service is the singing, particularly at the vespers, when the boys taking the soprano parts, accompanied by some most extraordinary deep bass tones of the men, swelling and filling the entire cathedral; all this, with occasional recitations from their sacred books, without any knowledge of their contents, excited in us the most serious and delightful sensations. there were about a dozen priests engaged in the various ceremonies, and the service was continued nearly three hours for the benefit of five or six worshippers. in this country are two immense foundling hospitals. the one we visited at moscow is said to receive annually upwards of , children. the upper part of this immense building is appropriated to the infants and nurses, of each of which there are always , besides about , sent out to nurse in the adjoining villages. they were all in uniform--dark cotton gowns and white aprons. all bowed as we went down the line. the next suite of rooms was occupied by children from four to seven years of age. the elder ones were in the schoolrooms. having seen various parts of the establishment, we were shown into the office where the infants are first received. the books were kept in excellent order, and the number of clerks proved that there was a good deal of business to be done. when a child is brought the first question is, is it baptized? if not, the chaplain is called, and the child is taken into an adjoining room, where there is a small oratory and font. it is then taken back to the officer, and his name and number, with date of admission, entered in the books. a corresponding ticket was tied round its neck, and a duplicate given to the woman who had brought him. by the presentation of this ticket the child might be claimed at any future time. it is then carried into another room, well washed, dressed in his little uniform, and fetched by a nurse from the upper storey. though called a foundling hospital, it is in reality a general receptacle for all children, who are received up to a certain age, without exception, it being left entirely to the option of the parent to state their names and condition, and to contribute or not, to the future support of the child. parents paying £ or £ have the right to see that their child is brought up in the house and not sent out to nurse. if a boy, and left by his parent without any deposit, he is brought up for the army as a common soldier, but if roubles or £ sterling be left with him, he will become an officer. all who show ability become engineers or are sent to the university. the girls, according to their taste and ability, are instructed in painting or music, and if intended for governesses are taught german or french. the majority of girls, after receiving a common and useful education, are employed in manual labour, and all, without distinction of age or sex, can return to the hospital should they fall into distress in after life. the annual expenses of the establishment amount, it is said, to nearly a million sterling. the policy, and certainly the moral consequences of keeping up such an institution are more than doubtful. there are two theatres, one very large, containing a suite of immense rooms, used for masked balls and similar entertainments, but is only open during the winter season; the other is chiefly carried on by french performers, and was well filled on the evening we attended. the great riding school is one of the wonders of moscow, being feet long and feet broad and feet in height; supposed to be the largest room in the world unsupported by pillars or props of any kind. this vast enclosure gives ample room for two regiments of cavalry to go through all their manoeuvres unobstructed by stormy weather, being heated by upwards of twenty stoves. the bazaar is also an immense pile of building, three storeys high, comprising , shops, connected by an endless number of passages and steps. in these courts and galleries there is a continual fair throughout the year, attended by traders from every part of europe, siberia, china, and tartary, numbering upwards of , merchants, all eager and very importunate to do business. in the same neighbourhood are many streets of shops, arranged in masses, perhaps thirty shops for paper, another range for spices, a third for ornamental articles, and a fourth for pictures and saints. of this last article, and the numerous vessels, lamps, candlesticks, crosses, and amulets used in the celebration of the mass, there is a vast demand in the holy city, there being scarcely a house or any room without a favourite saint. the population at moscow use at least three times as many votive tapers in honour of their saints as the inhabitants of st. petersburg, and in numerous churches many a ton of wax is said to be used for pious purposes. wax lights are a great trade, and occupy much space. great numbers of pigeons nestling under the eaves of the shops are fed by the owners with the sacred feeling that they are emblems of the holy ghost. no idea can be given of the noise and pertinacity of the traders calling to you, and even pulling you by the sleeve; and in the midst of all this bustle there is an ample supply of edibles undergoing various culinary operations; along with fish and other sorts of meat, eaten with black bread made of rye; they have various fancy cakes, and in some places large dishes of soup, with a number of wooden spoons for each to help himself. besides these, there are second-hand markets, dealers in old clothes, books, and pictures, and others with bundles of ribbons round their bodies or a pile of hats one upon another making known such dealer to a considerable distance. these densely-crowded districts form a striking contrast to other parts of the city, where scarcely a person is to be seen, and it should be further mentioned, to their credit, that we only observed one altercation, and another person in a state of intoxication, being the first disorderlies we had seen since entering the country. the sundays here, as in most catholic countries, are spent as fête days or holidays, and having heard much of the singing gypsies, we proceeded one evening to ratge public gardens, about a mile out of the city, and found a large assembly of persons promenading the grounds, with two bands of music playing alternately. about eight o'clock we observed a general move towards a pavilion, brilliantly lighted with a great number of variegated lamps, and in a short time appeared seventeen ladies and ten gentlemen, all evidently of this peculiar tribe. the singing of solos, duets, and occasionally a full chorus, was singularly wild, and strikingly delightful. so eminent have they been considered, that it is related of catalini, that after one of the performers had finished, she tore off a cashmere shawl which had been presented to her by the pope, and embracing the gypsy, insisted on her accepting the splendid gift, intended for the matchless songster. the evening amusements closed with the siege of canton, exhibiting such a display of fireworks, cannonading, and destruction of buildings and boats as i had never seen before. the boulevards are nicely laid out with broad walks, with occasional seats, and planted on each side with trees and shrubs. near to them is the flower garden, which consists of numerous small gardens, containing huts of painted wood filled with a variety of flowers and shrubs, mostly of a common sort, and some cherry and peach trees planted in pots. in this country fruit is scarce, and of course dear, so different to the south of europe, an important circumstance to the teetotaller. we also visited the moscow hotel--not a coffee house, coffee being little used--but one of the largest tea houses in the city, where traders of all ranks assemble to settle their various bargains with copious libations of tea, which they drink out of large glass goblets. i have not the dimensions of this establishment, but perhaps some idea of its size may be formed by the daily consumption of lbs. of tea, requiring about six tons of water. the waiters are all dressed in white jackets, pantaloons, and aprons. another day we took a drive to one of the cemeteries--of great extent, but not containing any remarkable monuments. here we visited peterskoi, another palace, more comfortable, being of moderate extent and less decorated. the chief interest attached to this chateau is that refugees, when moscow was in flames, fled to it for safety, and an apartment is shown where by the light of the flaming city napoleon dictated the dispatch conveying the sad intelligence to france. a little further on is the racecourse, which to our great surprise we found attended by a concourse of people, and the riders mounted just ready to set off. after witnessing two heats, displaying no extraordinary speed, we left the ground. this sort of sport, we were told, is not much encouraged by the russians, nor should we suppose there is much gambling, when a bet of £ by sir robt. peel occasioned the greatest surprise. the following afternoon we set off to sparrow hill, and partook of some tea under a small tent commanding a splendid view of moscow, and said to be the spot whence napoleon had his first glance of this wonderful city. some parts of the road were exceedingly bad, very deep ruts, reminding me of some of the mud turnpikes in america. whilst the horse was resting our guide partook of some quas, the common drink of the country, which we found to be a sort of weak muddy beer, rather acid. a little further on the way we heard a shepherd amusing himself and his flock by playing on the green willow. we visited the fish market, containing a great variety of fish, many of them all alive in large tanks of water, and others carefully preserved in blocks of ice. on revisiting the kremlin for the last time, we were fortunate in witnessing an extraordinary procession, more than priests in their varied gorgeous robes, bearing canopies, holy standards, and other insignia, amidst the jingling of scores of bells, which only ceased after they had all entered the cathedral. before quitting this wonderful city i took a parting glance from the terrace on the roof of our hotel, whence i counted more than domes and spires, many of them gilt, and others, with the roofs of many of the houses beautifully coloured, forming a truly splendid panorama. on our return at o'clock noon, the same hour we left for st. petersburg; we took two second-class tickets, and found ourselves more comfortable than in the saloon of the first class, arriving very punctually at o'clock the following morning. the same day we renewed our visit to st. isaac's cathedral, which we found surrounded by a numerous concourse of people, with a military guard stationed at the chief entrance, and a splendid carpet covering the steps leading to the cathedral. we hastened through one of the side doors, and secured a good position on the steps near to the altar, whence we had a fine view of the procession of the numerous priests in most gorgeous dresses, bearing a canopy over the metropolitan and swinging incense from side to side, amidst the most beautiful chanting, sometimes in deep bass tones, followed by youthful choristers in the most delightful gentle strains, swelling forth into a grand chorus, and filling the centre of this vast cathedral. when the music had ceased, and the priests had retired behind the altar, we had a most energetic sermon, which not being able to understand, left us time to survey once more the interior of this most magnificent edifice. after the service was ended one of our friends from the hotel, a very intelligent lady from the channel islands, went up to two ladies standing near us, to make enquiry about certain parts of the ceremony, when after some explanation, they kindly invited us to call upon them in the evening, and bring along with us two other of our english travellers. on showing their card to miss benson, she informed us the ladies were persons of high rank, the daughters of a distinguished general, but known to be greatly attached to the english. upon our calling in the evening we found the two ladies not returned from court, but another sister received us most graciously, and after a long conversation, chiefly on the emancipation of the serfs, which they did not approve of, having about , of them on their own estates, but at the same time giving the emperor credit for the best intentions. before leaving we were asked by the particular desire of the absent ladies to renew our visit the following evening, which we regretted not being able to do, having to make arrangements for our return home. the manufactures at st. petersburg are numerous, and some of them very extensive in tapestry, porcelain, glass, carpet, paper and cotton, all under the patronage of the state, but chiefly owned or managed by foreigners. one of the cotton factories we visited, situated at octi, about three miles up the river neva, is a good-sized mill, worked by four engines of and horse power, spinning yarn about forty or fifty hanks, and employing or hands, chiefly serfs, from the neighbouring villages, with managers, mostly english, occupying cottages surrounding the establishment. the proprietors, de jerseys, well known in lancashire, have other concerns in russia, and are now erecting very large works in finland for the purpose of spinning, weaving, bleaching, dyeing and printing. at the misses bensons there were three english gentlemen, a captain glascott and two others, who had been engaged several years in an extensive survey through russia and a part of turkey. they kindly exhibited their plans, beautifully drawn upon a large scale. before leaving st. petersburg you have to give two or three days' notice, so that your name may appear in the gazette, and thereby ensure the due discharge of claims upon you. you are also furnished with a new passport, instead of viséing the one you brought with you, thereby supplying a few extra fees to the officials, which i consider to be the chief object in keeping up this abominable system. we left st. petersburg in a small steamer, and embarked at cronstadt in the "vladimer," a russian steamer, very beautifully fitted up, with two cabins on deck, one for the captain and the other for the use of the passengers; the bulwarks, rather too high, and so obstruct the view, but at the same time protective in foul weather. the accommodation was very good, and the supply of provisions most ample, but not all suited to the english palate. in the evening we had a glorious sunset, and the following day passed a lighthouse built upon a rock jutting out of the sea; then reval, situated on a high coast, and in three days arrived at stettin, having had a most enjoyable passage. among the passengers was a young russian count, an officer in the army, and, though only , had been in several severe engagements without receiving a single wound. he was a most intelligent young man, well acquainted with the history of most of the countries in europe, and free in his remarks upon the faults of his own, so much so that i did not fail to remind him of siberia. approaching the prussian coast, i observed the first star since entering the baltic. a few miles before landing we were boarded by a number of custom house officers, a very good arrangement, saving much time and inconvenience. the search was in no way strict after declaring that we had no tea or leather. having to wait three or four hours for the train to berlin, we walked about the town, viewed a very remarkable statue of frederick the great, and also entered an old church containing a very ancient organ and pulpit wonderfully ornamented. the railway carriages, like most others on the continent, greatly excel ours; the st class have three spacious seats, the nd two double seats, and the rd much like our nd. it is a good line, and i should think made at a moderate cost, there being few cuttings or embankments, and not many bridges; the rails appeared to be about seven yards long. on both sides we observed extensive fields of grain, and many women among the reapers. the city of berlin is situated on a level sandy plain, and has many wide streets and numerous public buildings, boulevards and other delightful walks. the king's palace, though very extensive, has a shabby appearance. the state apartments are decorated with good paintings, tapestry, and large chandeliers of solid silver; and there is a beautiful chapel, with the floor ornamented with various marbles; also a library containing bibles in different languages and editions. there is a most noble equestrian statue of frederick the great. the arsenal, a noble structure, containing arms arranged in excellent order for , men, probably like our guns at the tower, more ornamental than efficient; also the rich accoutrements of the horse on which frederick the st rode when he made his public entry, all the ornaments being of gold adorned with brilliants. the museum is very extensive, all the articles beautifully arranged. in the hall of arts is a very large ale-cup belonging to luther showing that he was no teetotaller. amidst the numerous fine streets in this city should be mentioned the unter den linden. on looking across from our hotel we observed it laid out in the following manner: first, a footpath of flags, then a pavement of large square sets, trees (acacias and other sorts); then a pavement of small pebbles, trees; a broad gravel walk, trees, small pebbles, trees; a pavement of large sets; and, last, a range of flags. the street is yards wide, and so full of trees as almost to obscure the houses opposite, and looking down about one and a half miles, presented a very extraordinary appearance. but the great defect in this beautiful city is the want of proper sewerage. in some of the principal streets the water is suffered to lie in open drains on each side of the street, in a most stagnant condition. we went by railway to potsdam, and after walking through numerous palaces, we visited babelsberg castle, the residence of the prince frederick william. its approach is along a fine gravel road, through a beautiful plantation of various trees and shrubs, gradually rising to a considerable eminence, so as to command a very extensive view of the most beautiful scenery all around. this charming chateau, of very moderate extent, is surrounded by terraces and gardens, containing the choicest shrubs and flowers, and interspersed with fountains and statuary truly delightful. all the rooms, which are fitted up in a simple style, without any of the usual costly decorations, were thrown open to the public excepting the more private apartments and the one then occupied by its regal owner. we left it deeply impressed with the real comfort of such a dwelling, so vastly superior to all the magnificent display we had so lately witnessed. at charlottenhof there is a grand palace, containing an immense room, with the ceiling and walls entirely covered with shells of every variety, and forming the most curious figures. and at charlottenberg, about two miles from berlin, there is another palace with a beautiful garden, orangery, and the choicest flowers; but the most attractive object here is the mausoleum, a beautiful structure, containing two most remarkable statues of the late king and queen, on which the light is transmitted through richly stained windows, producing a very solemn and imposing effect, not excelled by the tomb of napoleon recently erected at paris, or that of marie louise and their son at vienna. from berlin we proceeded to hamburg, which on my former visit had suffered from an extensive conflagration. all that part of the city has been since rebuilt, and is now covered with streets of warehouses on a most magnificent scale. there is also a very fine range of buildings along the aster, a fine sheet of water connected with the elbe, containing great quantities of fish and numerous swans floating on its surface. there is also a very large exchange, very numerously attended at high change time, presenting a very extraordinary spectacle to those in the gallery above, and leading some of us to wonder how many false statements were mingled in the sounds then produced. we took a drive round the city, and on returning through some parts of the old town we found the streets so narrow and dirty that we thought the fire had hardly gone far enough. as we approached nearer home our desire to arrive, like falling bodies, increased in intensity, and we engaged the first steamer to hull. it proved to be the "transit," very improperly named, being one of the slowest on that station. we found it very small and the deck entirely covered with hampers of cherries and cucumbers, and the interior accommodation little better. this, with unfavourable weather, made the three and a half days' sail appear very long and disagreeable, but at the same time rendered doubly dear, home, sweet home. we completed the excursion in little over five weeks, and considered ourselves very amply repaid for all the trouble and expense, and do not hesitate to recommend the same trip to all persons having the three important requisites--means, time and inclination. footnotes: [ ] count alexander adlerberg. [ ] count vladimer adlerberg, minister of the imperial household and personal friend of the tsar. [ ] mrs. heywood. [ ] serfdom was abolished in . [ ] mrs. heywood. russia by donald mackenzie wallace copyright contents preface chapter i travelling in russia railways--state interference--river communications--russian "grand tour"--the volga--kazan--zhigulinskiya gori--finns and tartars--the don--difficulties of navigation--discomforts--rats--hotels and their peculiar customs--roads--hibernian phraseology explained--bridges--posting--a tarantass--requisites for travelling--travelling in winter--frostbitten--disagreeable episodes--scene at a post-station. chapter ii in the northern forests bird's-eye view of russia--the northern forests--purpose of my journey--negotiations--the road--a village--a peasant's house--vapour-baths--curious custom--arrival. chapter iii voluntary exile ivanofka--history of the place--the steward of the estate--slav and teutonic natures--a german's view of the emancipation--justices of the peace--new school of morals--the russian language--linguistic talent of the russians--my teacher--a big dose of current history. chapter iv the village priest priests' names--clerical marriages--the white and the black clergy--why the people do not respect the parish priests--history of the white clergy--the parish priest and the protestant pastor--in what sense the russian people are religious--icons--the clergy and popular education--ecclesiastical reform--premonitory symptoms of change--two typical specimens of the parochial clergy of the present day. chapter v a medical consultation unexpected illness--a village doctor--siberian plague--my studies--russian historians--a russian imitator of dickens--a ci-devant domestic serf--medicine and witchcraft--a remnant of paganism--credulity of the peasantry--absurd rumours--a mysterious visit from st. barbara--cholera on board a steamer--hospitals--lunatic asylums--amongst maniacs. chapter vi a peasant family of the old type ivan petroff--his past life--co-operative associations--constitution of a peasant's household--predominance of economic conceptions over those of blood-relationship--peasant marriages--advantages of living in large families--its defects--family disruptions and their consequences. chapter vii the peasantry of the north communal land--system of agriculture--parish fetes--fasting--winter occupations--yearly migrations--domestic industries--influence of capital and wholesale enterprise--the state peasants--serf-dues--buckle's "history of civilisation"--a precocious yamstchik--"people who play pranks"--a midnight alarm--the far north. chapter viii the mir, or village community social and political importance of the mir--the mir and the family compared--theory of the communal system--practical deviations from the theory--the mir a good specimen of constitutional government of the extreme democratic type--the village assembly--female members--the elections--distribution of the communal land. chapter ix how the commune has been preserved, and what it is to effect in the future sweeping reforms after the crimean war--protest against the laissez faire principle--fear of the proletariat--english and russian methods of legislation contrasted--sanguine expectations--evil consequences of the communal system--the commune of the future--proletariat of the towns--the present state of things merely temporary. chapter x finnish and tartar villages a finnish tribe--finnish villages--various stages of russification--finnish women--finnish religions--method of "laying" ghosts--curious mixture of christianity and paganism--conversion of the finns--a tartar village--a russian peasant's conception of mahometanism--a mahometan's view of christianity--propaganda--the russian colonist--migrations of peoples during the dark ages. chapter xi lord novgorod the great departure from ivanofka and arrival at novgorod--the eastern half of the town--the kremlin--an old legend--the armed men of rus--the northmen--popular liberty in novgorod--the prince and the popular assembly--civil dissensions and faction-fights--the commercial republic conquered by the muscovite tsars--ivan the terrible--present condition of the town--provincial society--card-playing--periodicals--"eternal stillness." chapter xii the towns and the mercantile classes general character of russian towns--scarcity of towns in russia--why the urban element in the population is so small--history of russian municipal institutions--unsuccessful efforts to create a tiers-etat--merchants, burghers, and artisans--town council--a rich merchant--his house--his love of ostentation--his conception of aristocracy--official decorations--ignorance and dishonesty of the commercial classes--symptoms of change. chapter xiii the pastoral tribes of the steppe a journey to the steppe region of the southeast--the volga--town and province of samara--farther eastward--appearance of the villages--characteristic incident--peasant mendacity--explanation of the phenomenon--i awake in asia--a bashkir aoul--diner la tartare--kumyss--a bashkir troubadour--honest mehemet zian--actual economic condition of the bashkirs throws light on a well-known philosophical theory--why a pastoral race adopts agriculture--the genuine steppe--the kirghiz--letter from genghis khan--the kalmyks--nogai tartars--struggle between nomadic hordes and agricultural colonists. chapter xiv the mongol domination the conquest--genghis khan and his people--creation and rapid disintegration of the mongol empire--the golden horde--the real character of the mongol domination--religious toleration--mongol system of government--grand princes--the princes of moscow--influence of the mongol domination--practical importance of the subject. chapter xv the cossacks lawlessness on the steppe--slave-markets of the crimea--the military cordon and the free cossacks--the zaporovian commonwealth compared with sparta and with the mediaeval military orders--the cossacks of the don, of the volga, and of the ural--border warfare--the modern cossacks--land tenure among the cossacks of the don--the transition from pastoral to agriculture life--"universal law" of social development--communal versus private property--flogging as a means of land-registration. chapter xvi foreign colonists on the steppe the steppe--variety of races, languages, and religions--the german colonists--in what sense the russians are an imitative people--the mennonites--climate and arboriculture--bulgarian colonists--tartar-speaking greeks--jewish agriculturists--russification--a circassian scotchman--numerical strength of the foreign element. chapter xvii among the heretics the molokanye--my method of investigation--alexandrof-hai--an unexpected theological discussion--doctrines and ecclesiastical organisation of the molokanye--moral supervision and mutual assistance--history of the sect--a false prophet--utilitarian christianity--classification of the fantastic sects--the "khlysti"--policy of the government towards sectarianism--two kinds of heresy--probable future of the heretical sects--political disaffection. chapter xviii the dissenters dissenters not to be confounded with heretics--extreme importance attached to ritual observances--the raskol, or great schism in the seventeenth century--antichrist appears!--policy of peter the great and catherine ii.--present ingenious method of securing religious toleration--internal development of the raskol--schism among the schismatics--the old ritualists--the priestless people--cooling of the fanatical enthusiasm and formation of new sects--recent policy of the government towards the sectarians--numerical force and political significance of sectarianism. chapter xix church and state the russian orthodox church--russia outside of the mediaeval papal commonwealth--influence of the greek church--ecclesiastical history of russia--relations between church and state--eastern orthodoxy and the russian national church--the synod--ecclesiastical grumbling--local ecclesiastical administration--the black clergy and the monasteries--the character of the eastern church reflected in the history of religious art--practical consequences--the union scheme. chapter xx the noblesse the nobles in early times--the mongol domination--the tsardom of muscovy--family dignity--reforms of peter the great--the nobles adopt west-european conceptions--abolition of obligatory service--influence of catherine ii.--the russian dvoryanstvo compared with the french noblesse and the english aristocracy--russian titles--probable future of the russian noblesse. chapter xxi landed proprietors of the old school russian hospitality--a country-house--its owner described--his life, past and present--winter evenings--books---connection with the outer world--the crimean war and the emancipation--a drunken, dissolute proprietor--an old general and his wife--"name days"--a legendary monster--a retired judge--a clever scribe--social leniency--cause of demoralisation. chapter xxii proprietors of the modern school a russian petit maitre--his house and surroundings--abortive attempts to improve agriculture and the condition of the serfs--a comparison--a "liberal" tchinovnik--his idea of progress--a justice of the peace--his opinion of russian literature, tchinovniks, and petits maitres--his supposed and real character--an extreme radical--disorders in the universities--administrative procedure--russia's capacity for accomplishing political and social evolutions--a court dignitary in his country house. chapter xxiii social classes do social classes or castes exist in russia?--well-marked social types--classes recognised by the legislation and the official statistics--origin and gradual formation of these classes--peculiarity in the historical development of russia--political life and political parties. chapter xxiv the imperial administration and the officials the officials in norgorod assist me in my studies--the modern imperial administration created by peter the great, and developed by his successors--a slavophil's view of the administration--the administration briefly described--the tchinovniks, or officials--official titles, and their real significance--what the administration has done for russia in the past--its character determined by the peculiar relation between the government and the people--its radical vices--bureaucratic remedies--complicated formal procedure--the gendarmerie: my personal relations with this branch of the administration; arrest and release--a strong, healthy public opinion the only effectual remedy for bad administration. chapter xxv moscow and the slavophils two ancient cities--kief not a good point for studying old russian national life--great russians and little russians--moscow--easter eve in the kremlin--curious custom--anecdote of the emperor nicholas--domiciliary visits of the iberian madonna--the streets of moscow--recent changes in the character of the city--vulgar conception of the slavophils--opinion founded on personal acquaintance--slavophil sentiment a century ago--origin and development of the slavophil doctrine--slavophilism essentially muscovite--the panslavist element--the slavophils and the emancipation. chapter xxvi st. petersburg and european influence st. petersburg and berlin--big houses--the "lions"--peter the great--his aims and policy--the german regime--nationalist reaction--french influence--consequent intellectual sterility--influence of the sentimental school--hostility to foreign influences--a new period of literary importation--secret societies--the catastrophe--the age of nicholas--a terrible war on parnassus--decline of romanticism and transcendentalism--gogol--the revolutionary agitation of --new reaction--conclusion. chapter xxvii the crimean war and its consequences the emperor nicholas and his system--the men with aspirations and the apathetically contented--national humiliation--popular discontent and the manuscript literature--death of nicholas--alexander ii.--new spirit--reform enthusiasm--change in the periodical literature--the kolokol--the conservatives--the tchinovniks--first specific proposals--joint-stock companies--the serf question comes to the front. chapter xxviii the serfs the rural population in ancient times--the peasantry in the eighteenth century--how was this change effected?--the common explanation inaccurate--serfage the result of permanent economic and political causes--origin of the adscriptio glebae--its consequences--serf insurrection--turning-point in the history of serfage--serfage in russia and in western europe--state peasants--numbers and geographical distribution of the serf population--serf dues--legal and actual power of the proprietors--the serfs' means of defence--fugitives--domestic serfs--strange advertisements in the moscow gazette--moral influence of serfage. chapter xxix the emancipation of the serfs the question raised--chief committee--the nobles of the lithuanian provinces--the tsar's broad hint to the noblesse--enthusiasm in the press--the proprietors--political aspirations--no opposition--the government--public opinion--fear of the proletariat--the provincial committees--the elaboration commission--the question ripens--provincial deputies--discontent and demonstrations--the manifesto--fundamental principles of the law--illusions and disappointment of the serfs--arbiters of the peace--a characteristic incident--redemption--who effected the emancipation? chapter xxx the landed proprietors since the emancipation two opposite opinions--difficulties of investigation--the problem simplified--direct and indirect compensation--the direct compensation inadequate--what the proprietors have done with the remainder of their estates--immediate moral effect of the abolition of serfage--the economic problem--the ideal solution and the difficulty of realising it--more primitive arrangements--the northern agricultural zone--the black-earth zone--the labour difficulty--the impoverishment of the noblesse not a new phenomenon--mortgaging of estates--gradual expropriation of the noblesse-rapid increase in the production and export of grain--how far this has benefited the landed proprietors. chapter xxxi the emancipated peasantry the effects of liberty--difficulty of obtaining accurate information--pessimist testimony of the proprietors--vague replies of the peasants--my conclusions in --necessity of revising them--my investigations renewed in --recent researches by native political economists--peasant impoverishment universally recognised--various explanations suggested--demoralisation of the common people--peasant self-government--communal system of land tenure--heavy taxation--disruption of peasant families--natural increase of population--remedies proposed--migration--reclamation of waste land--land-purchase by peasantry--manufacturing industry--improvement of agricultural methods--indications of progress. chapter xxxii the zemstvo and the local self-government necessity of reorganising the provincial administration--zemstvo created in --my first acquaintance with the institution--district and provincial assemblies--the leading members--great expectations created by the institution--these expectations not realised--suspicions and hostility of the bureaucracy--zemstvo brought more under control of the centralised administration--what it has really done--why it has not done more---rapid increase of the rates--how far the expenditure is judicious--why the impoverishment of the peasantry was neglected--unpractical, pedantic spirit--evil consequences--chinese and russian formalism--local self-government of russia contrasted with that of england--zemstvo better than its predecessors--its future. chapter xxxiii the new law courts judicial procedure in the olden times--defects and abuses--radical reform--the new system--justices of the peace and monthly sessions--the regular tribunals--court of revision--modification of the original plan--how does the system work?--rapid acclimatisation--the bench--the jury--acquittal of criminals who confess their crimes--peasants, merchants, and nobles as jurymen--independence and political significance of the new courts. chapter xxxiv revolutionary nihilism and the reaction the reform-enthusiasm becomes unpractical and culminates in nihilism--nihilism, the distorted reflection of academic western socialism--russia well prepared for reception of ultra-socialist virus--social reorganisation according to latest results of science--positivist theory--leniency of press-censure--chief representatives of new movement--government becomes alarmed--repressive measures--reaction in the public--the term nihilist invented--the nihilist and his theory--further repressive measures--attitude of landed proprietors--foundation of a liberal party--liberalism checked by polish insurrection--practical reform continued--an attempt at regicide forms a turning-point of government's policy--change in educational system--decline of nihilism. chapter xxxv socialist propaganda, revolutionary agitation, and terrorism closer relations with western socialism--attempts to influence the masses--bakunin and lavroff--"going in among the people"--the missionaries of revolutionary socialism--distinction between propaganda and agitation--revolutionary pamphlets for the common people--aims and motives of the propagandists--failure of propaganda--energetic repression--fruitless attempts at agitation--proposal to combine with liberals--genesis of terrorism--my personal relations with the revolutionists--shadowers and shadowed--a series of terrorist crimes--a revolutionist congress--unsuccessful attempts to assassinate the tsar--ineffectual attempt at conciliation by loris melikof--assassination of alexander ii.--the executive committee shows itself unpractical--widespread indignation and severe repression--temporary collapse of the revolutionary movement--a new revolutionary movement in sight. chapter xxxvi industrial progress and the proletariat russia till lately a peasant empire--early efforts to introduce arts and crafts--peter the great and his successors--manufacturing industry long remains an exotic--the cotton industry--the reforms of alexander ii.--protectionists and free trade--progress under high tariffs--m. witte's policy--how capital was obtained--increase of exports--foreign firms cross the customs frontier--rapid development of iron industry--a commercial crisis--m. witte's position undermined by agrarians and doctrinaires--m. plehve a formidable opponent--his apprehensions of revolution--fall of m. witte--the industrial proletariat chapter xxxvii the revolutionary movement in its latest phase influence of capitalism and proletariat on the revolutionary movement--what is to be done?--reply of plekhanof--a new departure--karl marx's theories applied to russia--beginnings of a social democratic movement--the labour troubles of - in st. petersburg--the social democrats' plan of campaign--schism in the party--trade-unionism and political agitation--the labour troubles of --how the revolutionary groups are differentiated from each other--social democracy and constitutionalism--terrorism--the socialist revolutionaries--the militant organisation--attitude of the government--factory legislation--government's scheme for undermining social democracy--father gapon and his labour association--the great strike in st. petersburg--father gapon goes over to the revolutionaries. chapter xxxviii territorial expansion and foreign policy rapid growth of russia--expansive tendency of agricultural peoples--the russo-slavonians--the northern forest and the steppe--colonisation--the part of the government in the process of expansion--expansion towards the west--growth of the empire represented in a tabular form--commercial motive for expansion--the expansive force in the future--possibilities of expansion in europe--persia, afghanistan, and india--trans-siberian railway and weltpolitik--a grandiose scheme--determined opposition of japan--negotiations and war--russia's imprudence explained--conclusion. chapter xxxix the present situation reform or revolution?--reigns of alexander ii. and nicholas ii. compared and contrasted--the present opposition--various groups--the constitutionalists--zemski sobors--the young tsar dispels illusions--liberal frondeurs--plehve's repressive policy--discontent increased by the war--relaxation and wavering under prince mirski--reform enthusiasm--the constitutionalists formulate their demands--the social democrats--father gapon's demonstration--the socialist-revolutionaries--the agrarian agitators--the subject-nationalities--numerical strength of the various groups--all united on one point--their different aims--possible solutions of the crisis--difficulties of introducing constitutional regime--a strong man wanted--uncertainty of the future. preface the first edition of this work, published early in january, , contained the concentrated results of my studies during an uninterrupted residence of six years in russia--from the beginning of to the end of . since that time i have spent in the european and central asian provinces, at different periods, nearly two years more; and in the intervals i have endeavoured to keep in touch with the progress of events. my observations thus extend over a period of thirty-five years. when i began, a few months ago, to prepare for publication the results of my more recent observations and researches, my intention was to write an entirely new work under the title of "russia in the twentieth century," but i soon perceived that it would be impossible to explain clearly the present state of things without referring constantly to events of the past, and that i should be obliged to embody in the new work a large portion of the old one. the portion to be embodied grew rapidly to such proportions that, in the course of a few weeks, i began to ask myself whether it would not be better simply to recast and complete my old material. with a view to deciding the question i prepared a list of the principal changes which had taken place during the last quarter of a century, and when i had marshalled them in logical order, i recognised that they were neither so numerous nor so important as i had supposed. certainly there had been much progress, but it had been nearly all on the old lines. everywhere i perceived continuity and evolution; nowhere could i discover radical changes and new departures. in the central and local administration the reactionary policy of the latter half of alexander ii.'s reign had been steadily maintained; the revolutionary movement had waxed and waned, but its aims were essentially the same as of old; the church had remained in its usual somnolent condition; a grave agricultural crisis affecting landed proprietors and peasants had begun, but it was merely a development of a state of things which i had previously described; the manufacturing industry had made gigantic strides, but they were all in the direction which the most competent observers had predicted; in foreign policy the old principles of guiding the natural expansive forces along the lines of least resistance, seeking to reach warm-water ports, and pegging out territorial claims for the future were persistently followed. no doubt there were pretty clear indications of more radical changes to come, but these changes must belong to the future, and it is merely with the past and the present that a writer who has no pretensions to being a prophet has to deal. under these circumstances it seemed to me advisable to adopt a middle course. instead of writing an entirely new work i determined to prepare a much extended and amplified edition of the old one, retaining such information about the past as seemed to me of permanent value, and at the same time meeting as far as possible the requirements of those who wish to know the present condition of the country. in accordance with this view i have revised, rearranged, and supplemented the old material in the light of subsequent events, and i have added five entirely new chapters--three on the revolutionary movement, which has come into prominence since ; one on the industrial progress, with which the latest phase of the movement is closely connected; and one on the main lines of the present situation as it appears to me at the moment of going to press. during the many years which i have devoted to the study of russia, i have received unstinted assistance from many different quarters. of the friends who originally facilitated my task, and to whom i expressed my gratitude in the preface and notes of the early editions, only three survive--mme. de novikoff, m. e. i. yakushkin, and dr. asher. to the numerous friends who have kindly assisted me in the present edition i must express my thanks collectively, but there are two who stand out from the group so prominently that i may be allowed to mention them personally: these are prince alexander grigorievitch stcherbatof, who supplied me with voluminous materials regarding the agrarian question generally and the present condition of the peasantry in particular, and m. albert brockhaus, who placed at my disposal the gigantic russian encyclopaedia recently published by his firm (entsiklopeditcheski slovar, leipzig and st. petersburg, - ). this monumental work, in forty-one volumes, is an inexhaustible storehouse of accurate and well-digested information on all subjects connected with the russian empire, and it has often been of great use to me in matters of detail. with regard to the last chapter of this edition i must claim the reader's indulgence, because the meaning of the title, "the present situation," changes from day to day, and i cannot foresee what further changes may occur before the work reaches the hands of the public. london, nd may, . russia chapter i travelling in russia railways--state interference--river communications--russian "grand tour"--the volga--kazan--zhigulinskiya gori--finns and tartars--the don--difficulties of navigation--discomforts--rats--hotels and their peculiar customs--roads--hibernian phraseology explained--bridges--posting--a tarantass--requisites for travelling--travelling in winter--frostbitten--disagreeable episodes--scene at a post-station. of course travelling in russia is no longer what it was. during the last half century a vast network of railways has been constructed, and one can now travel in a comfortable first-class carriage from berlin to st. petersburg or moscow, and thence to odessa, sebastopol, the lower volga, the caucasus, central asia, or eastern siberia. until the outbreak of the war there was a train twice a week, with through carriages, from moscow to port arthur. and it must be admitted that on the main lines the passengers have not much to complain of. the carriages are decidedly better than in england, and in winter they are kept warm by small iron stoves, assisted by double windows and double doors--a very necessary precaution in a land where the thermometer often descends to degrees below zero. the train never attains, it is true, a high rate of speed--so at least english and americans think--but then we must remember that russians are rarely in a hurry, and like to have frequent opportunities of eating and drinking. in russia time is not money; if it were, nearly all the subjects of the tsar would always have a large stock of ready money on hand, and would often have great difficulty in spending it. in reality, be it parenthetically remarked, a russian with a superabundance of ready money is a phenomenon rarely met with in real life. in conveying passengers at the rate of from fifteen to thirty miles an hour, the railway companies do at least all that they promise; but in one very important respect they do not always strictly fulfil their engagements. the traveller takes a ticket for a certain town, and on arriving at what he imagines to be his destination, he may find merely a railway-station surrounded by fields. on making inquiries, he discovers, to his disappointment, that the station is by no means identical with the town bearing the same name, and that the railway has fallen several miles short of fulfilling the bargain, as he understood the terms of the contract. indeed, it might almost be said that as a general rule railways in russia, like camel-drivers in certain eastern countries, studiously avoid the towns. this seems at first a strange fact. it is possible to conceive that the bedouin is so enamoured of tent life and nomadic habits that he shuns a town as he would a man-trap; but surely civil engineers and railway contractors have no such dread of brick and mortar. the true reason, i suspect, is that land within or immediately beyond the municipal barrier is relatively dear, and that the railways, being completely beyond the invigorating influence of healthy competition, can afford to look upon the comfort and convenience of passengers as a secondary consideration. gradually, it is true, this state of things is being improved by private initiative. as the railways refuse to come to the towns, the towns are extending towards the railways, and already some prophets are found bold enough to predict that in the course of time those long, new, straggling streets, without an inhabited hinterland, which at present try so severely the springs of the ricketty droshkis, will be properly paved and kept in decent repair. for my own part, i confess i am a little sceptical with regard to this prediction, and i can only use a favourite expression of the russian peasants--dai bog! god grant it may be so! it is but fair to state that in one celebrated instance neither engineers nor railway contractors were directly to blame. from st. petersburg to moscow the locomotive runs for a distance of miles almost as "the crow" is supposed to fly, turning neither to the right hand nor to the left. for twelve weary hours the passenger in the express train looks out on forest and morass, and rarely catches sight of human habitation. only once he perceives in the distance what may be called a town; it is tver which has been thus favoured, not because it is a place of importance, but simply because it happened to be near the bee-line. and why was the railway constructed in this extraordinary fashion? for the best of all reasons--because the tsar so ordered it. when the preliminary survey was being made, nicholas i. learned that the officers entrusted with the task--and the minister of ways and roads in the number--were being influenced more by personal than technical considerations, and he determined to cut the gordian knot in true imperial style. when the minister laid before him the map with the intention of explaining the proposed route, he took a ruler, drew a straight line from the one terminus to the other, and remarked in a tone that precluded all discussion, "you will construct the line so!" and the line was so constructed--remaining to all future ages, like st. petersburg and the pyramids, a magnificent monument of autocratic power. formerly this well-known incident was often cited in whispered philippics to illustrate the evils of the autocratic form of government. imperial whims, it was said, over-ride grave economic considerations. in recent years, however, a change seems to have taken place in public opinion, and some people now assert that this so-called imperial whim was an act of far-seeing policy. as by far the greater part of the goods and passengers are carried the whole length of the line, it is well that the line should be as short as possible, and that branch lines should be constructed to the towns lying to the right and left. evidently there is a good deal to be said in favour of this view. in the development of the railway system there has been another disturbing cause, which is not likely to occur to the english mind. in england, individuals and companies habitually act according to their private interests, and the state interferes as little as possible; private initiative does as it pleases, unless the authorities can prove that important bad consequences will necessarily result. in russia, the onus probandi lies on the other side; private initiative is allowed to do nothing until it gives guarantees against all possible bad consequences. when any great enterprise is projected, the first question is--"how will this new scheme affect the interests of the state?" thus, when the course of a new railway has to be determined, the military authorities are among the first to be consulted, and their opinion has a great influence on the ultimate decision. the natural consequence is that the railway-map of russia presents to the eye of the strategist much that is quite unintelligible to the ordinary observer--a fact that will become apparent even to the uninitiated as soon as a war breaks out in eastern europe. russia is no longer what she was in the days of the crimean war, when troops and stores had to be conveyed hundreds of miles by the most primitive means of transport. at that time she had only miles of railway; now she has over , miles, and every year new lines are constructed. the water-communication has likewise in recent years been greatly improved. on the principal rivers there are now good steamers. unfortunately, the climate puts serious obstructions in the way of navigation. for nearly half of the year the rivers are covered with ice, and during a great part of the open season navigation is difficult. when the ice and snow melt the rivers overflow their banks and lay a great part of the low-lying country under water, so that many villages can only be approached in boats; but very soon the flood subsides, and the water falls so rapidly that by midsummer the larger steamers have great difficulty in picking their way among the sandbanks. the neva alone--that queen of northern rivers--has at all times a plentiful supply of water. besides the neva, the rivers commonly visited by the tourist are the volga and the don, which form part of what may be called the russian grand tour. englishmen who wish to see something more than st. petersburg and moscow generally go by rail to nizhni-novgorod, where they visit the great fair, and then get on board one of the volga steamers. for those who have mastered the important fact that russia is not a country of fine scenery, the voyage down the river is pleasant enough. the left bank is as flat as the banks of the rhine below cologne, but the right bank is high, occasionally well wooded, and not devoid of a certain tame picturesqueness. early on the second day the steamer reaches kazan, once the capital of an independent tartar khanate, and still containing a considerable tartar population. several metchets (as the mahometan houses of prayer are here termed), with their diminutive minarets in the lower part of the town, show that islamism still survives, though the khanate was annexed to muscovy more than three centuries ago; but the town, as a whole, has a european rather than an asiatic character. if any one visits it in the hope of getting "a glimpse of the east," he will be grievously disappointed, unless, indeed, he happens to be one of those imaginative tourists who always discover what they wish to see. and yet it must be admitted that, of all the towns on the route, kazan is the most interesting. though not oriental, it has a peculiar character of its own, whilst all the others--simbirsk, samara, saratof--are as uninteresting as russian provincial towns commonly are. the full force and solemnity of that expression will be explained in the sequel. probably about sunrise on the third day something like a range of mountains will appear on the horizon. it may be well to say at once, to prevent disappointment, that in reality nothing worthy of the name of mountain is to be found in that part of the country. the nearest mountain-range in that direction is the caucasus, which is hundreds of miles distant, and consequently cannot by any possibility be seen from the deck of a steamer. the elevations in question are simply a low range of hills, called the zhigulinskiya gori. in western europe they would not attract much attention, but "in the kingdom of the blind," as the french proverb has it, "the one-eyed man is king"; and in a flat region like eastern russia these hills form a prominent feature. though they have nothing of alpine grandeur, yet their well-wooded slopes, coming down to the water's edge--especially when covered with the delicate tints of early spring, or the rich yellow and red of autumnal foliage--leave an impression on the memory not easily effaced. on the whole--with all due deference to the opinions of my patriotic russian friends--i must say that volga scenery hardly repays the time, trouble and expense which a voyage from nizhni to tsaritsin demands. there are some pretty bits here and there, but they are "few and far between." a glass of the most exquisite wine diluted with a gallon of water makes a very insipid beverage. the deck of the steamer is generally much more interesting than the banks of the river. there one meets with curious travelling companions. the majority of the passengers are probably russian peasants, who are always ready to chat freely without demanding a formal introduction, and to relate--with certain restrictions--to a new acquaintance the simple story of their lives. often i have thus whiled away the weary hours both pleasantly and profitably, and have always been impressed with the peasant's homely common sense, good-natured kindliness, half-fatalistic resignation, and strong desire to learn something about foreign countries. this last peculiarity makes him question as well as communicate, and his questions, though sometimes apparently childish, are generally to the point. among the passengers are probably also some representatives of the various finnish tribes inhabiting this part of the country; they may be interesting to the ethnologist who loves to study physiognomy, but they are far less sociable than the russians. nature seems to have made them silent and morose, whilst their conditions of life have made them shy and distrustful. the tartar, on the other hand, is almost sure to be a lively and amusing companion. most probably he is a peddler or small trader of some kind. the bundle on which he reclines contains his stock-in-trade, composed, perhaps, of cotton printed goods and especially bright-coloured cotton handkerchiefs. he himself is enveloped in a capacious greasy khalat, or dressing-gown, and wears a fur cap, though the thermometer may be at degrees in the shade. the roguish twinkle in his small piercing eyes contrasts strongly with the sombre, stolid expression of the finnish peasants sitting near him. he has much to relate about st. petersburg, moscow, and perhaps astrakhan; but, like a genuine trader, he is very reticent regarding the mysteries of his own craft. towards sunset he retires with his companions to some quiet spot on the deck to recite evening prayers. here all the good mahometans on board assemble and stroke their beards, kneel on their little strips of carpet and prostrate themselves, all keeping time as if they were performing some new kind of drill under the eve of a severe drill-sergeant. if the voyage is made about the end of september, when the traders are returning home from the fair at nizhni-novgorod, the ethnologist will have a still better opportunity of study. he will then find not only representatives of the finnish and tartar races, but also armenians, circassians, persians, bokhariots, and other orientals--a motley and picturesque but decidedly unsavoury cargo. however great the ethnographical variety on board may be, the traveller will probably find that four days on the volga are quite enough for all practical and aesthetic purposes, and instead of going on to astrakhan he will quit the steamer at tsaritsin. here he will find a railway of about fifty miles in length, connecting the volga and the don. i say advisedly a railway, and not a train, because trains on this line are not very frequent. when i first visited the locality, thirty years ago, there were only two a week, so that if you inadvertently missed one train you had to wait about three days for the next. prudent, nervous people preferred travelling by the road, for on the railway the strange jolts and mysterious creakings were very alarming. on the other hand the pace was so slow that running off the rails would have been merely an amusing episode, and even a collision could scarcely have been attended with serious consequences. happily things are improving, even in this outlying part of the country. now there is one train daily, and it goes at a less funereal pace. from kalatch, at the don end of the line, a steamer starts for rostoff, which is situated near the mouth of the river. the navigation of the don is much more difficult than that of the volga. the river is extremely shallow, and the sand-banks are continually shifting, so that many times in the course of the day the steamer runs aground. sometimes she is got off by simply reversing the engines, but not unfrequently she sticks so fast that the engines have to be assisted. this is effected in a curious way. the captain always gives a number of stalwart cossacks a free passage on condition that they will give him the assistance he requires; and as soon as the ship sticks fast he orders them to jump overboard with a stout hawser and haul her off! the task is not a pleasant one, especially as the poor fellows cannot afterwards change their clothes; but the order is always obeyed with alacrity and without grumbling. cossacks, it would seem, have no personal acquaintance with colds and rheumatism. in the most approved manuals of geography the don figures as one of the principal european rivers, and its length and breadth give it a right to be considered as such; but its depth in many parts is ludicrously out of proportion to its length and breadth. i remember one day seeing the captain of a large, flat-bottomed steamer slacken speed, to avoid running down a man on horseback who was attempting to cross his bows in the middle of the stream. another day a not less characteristic incident happened. a cossack passenger wished to be set down at a place where there was no pier, and on being informed that there was no means of landing him, coolly jumped overboard and walked ashore. this simple method of disembarking cannot, of course, be recommended to those who have no local knowledge regarding the exact position of sand-banks and deep pools. good serviceable fellows are those cossacks who drag the steamer off the sand-banks, and are often entertaining companions. many of them can relate from their own experience, in plain, unvarnished style, stirring episodes of irregular warfare, and if they happen to be in a communicative mood they may divulge a few secrets regarding their simple, primitive commissariat system. whether they are confidential or not, the traveller who knows the language will spend his time more profitably and pleasantly in chatting with them than in gazing listlessly at the uninteresting country through which he is passing. unfortunately, these don steamers carry a large number of free passengers of another and more objectionable kind, who do not confine themselves to the deck, but unceremoniously find their way into the cabin, and prevent thin-skinned travellers from sleeping. i know too little of natural history to decide whether these agile, bloodthirsty parasites are of the same species as those which in england assist unofficially the sanitary commissioners by punishing uncleanliness; but i may say that their function in the system of created things is essentially the same, and they fulfil it with a zeal and energy beyond all praise. possessing for my own part a happy immunity from their indelicate attentions, and being perfectly innocent of entomological curiosity, i might, had i been alone, have overlooked their existence, but i was constantly reminded of their presence by less happily constituted mortals, and the complaints of the sufferers received a curious official confirmation. on arriving at the end of the journey i asked permission to spend the night on board, and i noticed that the captain acceded to my request with more readiness and warmth than i expected. next morning the fact was fully explained. when i began to express my thanks for having been allowed to pass the night in a comfortable cabin, my host interrupted me with a good-natured laugh, and assured me that, on the contrary, he was under obligations to me. "you see," he said, assuming an air of mock gravity, "i have always on board a large body of light cavalry, and when i have all this part of the ship to myself they make a combined attack on me; whereas, when some one is sleeping close by, they divide their forces!" on certain steamers on the sea of azof the privacy of the sleeping-cabin is disturbed by still more objectionable intruders; i mean rats. during one short voyage which i made on board the kertch, these disagreeable visitors became so importunate in the lower regions of the vessel that the ladies obtained permission to sleep in the deck-saloon. after this arrangement had been made, we unfortunate male passengers received redoubled attention from our tormentors. awakened early one morning by the sensation of something running over me as i lay in my berth, i conceived a method of retaliation. it seemed to me possible that, in the event of another visit, i might, by seizing the proper moment, kick the rat up to the ceiling with such force as to produce concussion of the brain and instant death. very soon i had an opportunity of putting my plan into execution. a significant shaking of the little curtain at the foot of the berth showed that it was being used as a scaling-ladder. i lay perfectly still, quite as much interested in the sport as if i had been waiting, rifle in hand, for big game. soon the intruder peeped into my berth, looked cautiously around him, and then proceeded to walk stealthily across my feet. in an instant he was shot upwards. first was heard a sharp knock on the ceiling, and then a dull "thud" on the floor. the precise extent of the injuries inflicted i never discovered, for the victim had sufficient strength and presence of mind to effect his escape; and the gentleman at the other side of the cabin, who had been roused by the noise, protested against my repeating the experiment, on the ground that, though he was willing to take his own share of the intruders, he strongly objected to having other people's rats kicked into his berth. on such occasions it is of no use to complain to the authorities. when i met the captain on deck i related to him what had happened, and protested vigorously against passengers being exposed to such annoyances. after listening to me patiently, he coolly replied, entirely overlooking my protestations, "ah! i did better than that this morning; i allowed my rat to get under the blanket, and then smothered him!" railways and steamboats, even when their arrangements leave much to be desired, invariably effect a salutary revolution in hotel accommodation; but this revolution is of necessity gradual. foreign hotelkeepers must immigrate and give the example; suitable houses must be built; servants must be properly trained; and, above all, the native travellers must learn the usages of civilised society. in russia this revolution is in progress, but still far from being complete. the cities where foreigners most do congregate--st. petersburg, moscow, odessa--already possess hotels that will bear comparison with those of western europe, and some of the more important provincial towns can offer very respectable accommodation; but there is still much to be done before the west-european can travel with comfort even on the principal routes. cleanliness, the first and most essential element of comfort, as we understand the term, is still a rare commodity, and often cannot be procured at any price. even in good hotels, when they are of the genuine russian type, there are certain peculiarities which, though not in themselves objectionable, strike a foreigner as peculiar. thus, when you alight at such an hotel, you are expected to examine a considerable number of rooms, and to inquire about the respective prices. when you have fixed upon a suitable apartment, you will do well, if you wish to practise economy, to propose to the landlord considerably less than he demands; and you will generally find, if you have a talent for bargaining, that the rooms may be hired for somewhat less than the sum first stated. you must be careful, however, to leave no possibility of doubt as to the terms of the contract. perhaps you assume that, as in taking a cab, a horse is always supplied without special stipulation, so in hiring a bedroom the bargain includes a bed and the necessary appurtenances. such an assumption will not always be justified. the landlord may perhaps give you a bedstead without extra charge, but if he be uncorrupted by foreign notions, he will certainly not spontaneously supply you with bed-linen, pillows, blankets, and towels. on the contrary, he will assume that you carry all these articles with you, and if you do not, you must pay for them. this ancient custom has produced among russians of the old school a kind of fastidiousness to which we are strangers. they strongly dislike using sheets, blankets, and towels which are in a certain sense public property, just as we should strongly object to putting on clothes which had been already worn by other people. and the feeling may be developed in people not russian by birth. for my own part, i confess to having been conscious of a certain disagreeable feeling on returning in this respect to the usages of so-called civilised europe. the inconvenience of carrying about the essential articles of bedroom furniture is by no means so great as might be supposed. bedrooms in russia are always heated during cold weather, so that one light blanket, which may be also used as a railway rug, is quite sufficient, whilst sheets, pillow-cases, and towels take up little space in a portmanteau. the most cumbrous object is the pillow, for air-cushions, having a disagreeable odour, are not well suited for the purpose. but russians are accustomed to this encumbrance. in former days--as at the present time in those parts of the country where there are neither railways nor macadamised roads--people travelled in carts or carriages without springs and in these instruments of torture a huge pile of cushions or pillows is necessary to avoid contusions and dislocations. on the railways the jolts and shaking are not deadly enough to require such an antidote; but, even in unconservative russia, customs outlive the conditions that created them; and at every railway-station you may see men and women carrying about their pillows with them as we carry wraps. a genuine russian merchant who loves comfort and respects tradition may travel without a portmanteau, but he considers his pillow as an indispensable article de voyage. to return to the old-fashioned hotel. when you have completed the negotiations with the landlord, you will notice that, unless you have a servant with you, the waiter prepares to perform the duties of valet de chambre. do not be surprised at his officiousness, which seems founded on the assumption that you are three-fourths paralysed. formerly, every well-born russian had a valet always in attendance, and never dreamed of doing for himself anything which could by any possibility be done for him. you notice that there is no bell in the room, and no mechanical means of communicating with the world below stairs. that is because the attendant is supposed to be always within call, and it is so much easier to shout than to get up and ring the bell. in the good old times all this was quite natural. the well-born russian had commonly a superabundance of domestic serfs, and there was no reason why one or two of them should not accompany their master when his honour undertook a journey. an additional person in the tarantass did not increase the expense, and considerably diminished the little unavoidable inconveniences of travel. but times have changed. in the domestic serfs were emancipated by imperial ukaz. free servants demand wages; and on railways or steamers a single ticket does not include an attendant. the present generation must therefore get through life with a more modest supply of valets, and must learn to do with its own hands much that was formerly performed by serf labour. still, a gentleman brought up in the old conditions cannot be expected to dress himself without assistance, and accordingly the waiter remains in your room to act as valet. perhaps, too, in the early morning you may learn in an unpleasant way that other parts of the old system are not yet extinct. you may hear, for instance, resounding along the corridors such an order as--"petrusha! petrusha! stakan vody!" ("little peter, little peter, a glass of water!") shouted in a stentorian voice that would startle the seven sleepers. when the toilet operations are completed, and you order tea--one always orders tea in russia--you will be asked whether you have your own tea and sugar with you. if you are an experienced traveller you will be able to reply in the affirmative, for good tea can be bought only in certain well-known shops, and can rarely be found in hotels. a huge, steaming tea-urn, called a samovar--etymologically, a "self-boiler"--will be brought in, and you will make your tea according to your taste. the tumbler, you know of course, is to be used as a cup, and when using it you must be careful not to cauterise the points of your fingers. if you should happen to have anything eatable or drinkable in your travelling basket, you need not hesitate to take it out at once, for the waiter will not feel at all aggrieved or astonished at your doing nothing "for the good of the house." the twenty or twenty-five kopeks that you pay for the samovar--teapot, tumbler, saucer, spoon, and slop-basin being included under the generic term pribor--frees you from all corkage and similar dues. these and other remnants of old customs are now rapidly disappearing, and will, doubtless, in a very few years be things of the past--things to be picked up in out-of-the-way corners, and chronicled by social archaeology; but they are still to be found in towns not unknown to western europe. many of these old customs, and especially the old method of travelling, may be studied in their pristine purity throughout a great part of the country. though railway construction has been pushed forward with great energy during the last forty years, there are still vast regions where the ancient solitudes have never been disturbed by the shrill whistle of the locomotive, and roads have remained in their primitive condition. even in the central provinces one may still travel hundreds of miles without ever encountering anything that recalls the name of macadam. if popular rumour is to be trusted, there is somewhere in the highlands of scotland, by the side of a turnpike, a large stone bearing the following doggerel inscription: "if you had seen this road before it was made, you'd lift up your hands and bless general wade." any educated englishman reading this strange announcement would naturally remark that the first line of the couplet contains a logical contradiction, probably of hibernian origin; but i have often thought, during my wanderings in russia, that the expression, if not logically justifiable, might for the sake of vulgar convenience be legalised by a permissive bill. the truth is that, as a frenchman might say, "there are roads and roads"--roads made and roads unmade, roads artificial and roads natural. now, in russia, roads are nearly all of the unmade, natural kind, and are so conservative in their nature that they have at the present day precisely the same appearance as they had many centuries ago. they have thus for imaginative minds something of what is called "the charm of historical association." the only perceptible change that takes place in them during a series of generations is that the ruts shift their position. when these become so deep that fore-wheels can no longer fathom them, it becomes necessary to begin making a new pair of ruts to the right or left of the old ones; and as the roads are commonly of gigantic breadth, there is no difficulty in finding a place for the operation. how the old ones get filled up i cannot explain; but as i have rarely seen in any part of the country, except perhaps in the immediate vicinity of towns, a human being engaged in road repairing, i assume that beneficent nature somehow accomplishes the task without human assistance, either by means of alluvial deposits, or by some other cosmical action only known to physical geographers. on the roads one occasionally encounters bridges; and here, again, i have discovered in russia a key to the mysteries of hibernian phraseology. an irish member once declared to the house of commons that the church was "the bridge that separated the two great sections of the irish people." as bridges commonly connect rather than separate, the metaphor was received with roars of laughter. if the honourable members who joined in the hilarious applause had travelled much in russia, they would have been more moderate in their merriment; for in that country, despite the laudable activity of the modern system of local administration created in the sixties, bridges often act still as a barrier rather than a connecting link, and to cross a river by a bridge may still be what is termed in popular phrase "a tempting of providence." the cautious driver will generally prefer to take to the water, if there is a ford within a reasonable distance, though both he and his human load may be obliged, in order to avoid getting wet feet, to assume undignified postures that would afford admirable material for the caricaturist. but this little bit of discomfort, even though the luggage should be soaked in the process of fording, is as nothing compared to the danger of crossing by the bridge. as i have no desire to harrow unnecessarily the feelings of the reader, i refrain from all description of ugly accidents, ending in bruises and fractures, and shall simply explain in a few words how a successful passage is effected. when it is possible to approach the bridge without sinking up to the knees in mud, it is better to avoid all risks by walking over and waiting for the vehicle on the other side; and when this is impossible, a preliminary survey is advisable. to your inquiries whether it is safe, your yamstchik (post-boy) is sure to reply, "nitchevo!"--a word which, according to the dictionaries, means "nothing" but which has, in the mouths of the peasantry, a great variety of meanings, as i may explain at some future time. in the present case it may be roughly translated. "there is no danger." "nitchevo, barin, proyedem" ("there is no danger, sir; we shall get over"), he repeats. you may refer to the generally rotten appearance of the structure, and point in particular to the great holes sufficient to engulf half a post-horse. "ne bos', bog pomozhet" ("do not fear. god will help"), replies coolly your phlegmatic jehu. you may have your doubts as to whether in this irreligious age providence will intervene specially for your benefit; but your yamstchik, who has more faith or fatalism, leaves you little time to solve the problem. making hurriedly the sign of the cross, he gathers up his reins, waves his little whip in the air, and, shouting lustily, urges on his team. the operation is not wanting in excitement. first there is a short descent; then the horses plunge wildly through a zone of deep mud; next comes a fearful jolt, as the vehicle is jerked up on to the first planks; then the transverse planks, which are but loosely held in their places, rattle and rumble ominously, as the experienced, sagacious animals pick their way cautiously and gingerly among the dangerous holes and crevices; lastly, you plunge with a horrible jolt into a second mud zone, and finally regain terra firma, conscious of that pleasant sensation which a young officer may be supposed to feel after his first cavalry charge in real warfare. of course here, as elsewhere, familiarity breeds indifference. when you have successfully crossed without serious accident a few hundred bridges of this kind you learn to be as cool and fatalistic as your yamstchik. the reader who has heard of the gigantic reforms that have been repeatedly imposed on russia by a paternal government may naturally be astonished to learn that the roads are still in such a disgraceful condition. but for this, as for everything else in the world, there is a good and sufficient reason. the country is still, comparatively speaking, thinly populated, and in many regions it is difficult, or practically impossible, to procure in sufficient quantity stone of any kind, and especially hard stone fit for road-making. besides this, when roads are made, the severity of the climate renders it difficult to keep them in good repair. when a long journey has to be undertaken through a region in which there are no railways, there are several ways in which it may be effected. in former days, when time was of still less value than at present, many landed proprietors travelled with their own horses, and carried with them, in one or more capacious, lumbering vehicles, all that was required for the degree of civilisation which they had attained; and their requirements were often considerable. the grand seigneur, for instance, who spent the greater part of his life amidst the luxury of the court society, naturally took with him all the portable elements of civilisation. his baggage included, therefore, camp-beds, table-linen, silver plate, a batterie de cuisine, and a french cook. the pioneers and part of the commissariat force were sent on in advance, so that his excellency found at each halting-place everything prepared for his arrival. the poor owner of a few dozen serfs dispensed, of course, with the elaborate commissariat department, and contented himself with such modest fare as could be packed in the holes and corners of a single tarantass. it will be well to explain here, parenthetically, what a tarantass is, for i shall often have occasion to use the word. it may be briefly defined as a phaeton without springs. the function of springs is imperfectly fulfilled by two parallel wooden bars, placed longitudinally, on which is fixed the body of the vehicle. it is commonly drawn by three horses--a strong, fast trotter in the shafts, flanked on each side by a light, loosely-attached horse that goes along at a gallop. the points of the shafts are connected by the duga, which looks like a gigantic, badly formed horseshoe rising high above the collar of the trotter. to the top of the duga is attached the bearing-rein, and underneath the highest part of it is fastened a big bell--in the southern provinces i found two, and sometimes even three bells--which, when the country is open and the atmosphere still, may be heard a mile off. the use of the bell is variously explained. some say it is in order to frighten the wolves, and others that it is to avoid collisions on the narrow forest-paths. but neither of these explanations is entirely satisfactory. it is used chiefly in summer, when there is no danger of an attack from wolves; and the number of bells is greater in the south, where there are no forests. perhaps the original intention was--i throw out the hint for the benefit of a certain school of archaeologists--to frighten away evil spirits; and the practice has been retained partly from unreasoning conservatism, and partly with a view to lessen the chances of collisions. as the roads are noiselessly soft, and the drivers not always vigilant, the dangers of collision are considerably diminished by the ceaseless peal. altogether, the tarantass is well adapted to the conditions in which it is used. by the curious way in which the horses are harnessed it recalls the war-chariot of ancient times. the horse in the shafts is compelled by the bearing-rein to keep his head high and straight before him--though the movement of his ears shows plainly that he would very much like to put it somewhere farther away from the tongue of the bell--but the side horses gallop freely, turning their heads outwards in classical fashion. i believe that this position is assumed not from any sympathy on the part of these animals for the remains of classical art, but rather from the natural desire to keep a sharp eye on the driver. every movement of his right hand they watch with close attention, and as soon as they discover any symptoms indicating an intention of using the whip they immediately show a desire to quicken the pace. now that the reader has gained some idea of what a tarantass is, we may return to the modes of travelling through the regions which are not yet supplied with railways. however enduring and long-winded horses may be, they must be allowed sometimes, during a long journey, to rest and feed. travelling long distances with one's own horses is therefore necessarily a slow operation, and is now quite antiquated. people who value their time prefer to make use of the imperial post organisation. on all the principal lines of communication there are regular post-stations, at from ten to twenty miles apart, where a certain number of horses and vehicles are kept for the convenience of travellers. to enjoy the privilege of this arrangement, one has to apply to the proper authorities for a podorozhnaya--a large sheet of paper stamped with the imperial eagle, and bearing the name of the recipient, the destination, and the number of horses to be supplied. in return, a small sum is paid for imaginary road-repairs; the rest of the sum is paid by instalments at the respective stations. armed with this document you go to the post-station and demand the requisite number of horses. three is the number generally used, but if you travel lightly and are indifferent to appearances, you may content yourself with a pair. the vehicle is a kind of tarantass, but not such as i have just described. the essentials in both are the same, but those which the imperial government provides resemble an enormous cradle on wheels rather than a phaeton. an armful of hay spread over the bottom of the wooden box is supposed to play the part of seats and cushions. you are expected to sit under the arched covering, and extend your legs so that the feet lie beneath the driver's seat; but it is advisable, unless the rain happens to be coming down in torrents, to get this covering unshipped, and travel without it. when used, it painfully curtails the little freedom of movement that you enjoy, and when you are shot upwards by some obstruction on the road it is apt to arrest your ascent by giving you a violent blow on the top of the head. it is to be hoped that you are in no hurry to start, otherwise your patience may be sorely tried. the horses, when at last produced, may seem to you the most miserable screws that it was ever your misfortune to behold; but you had better refrain from expressing your feelings, for if you use violent, uncomplimentary language, it may turn out that you have been guilty of gross calumny. i have seen many a team composed of animals which a third-class london costermonger would have spurned, and in which it was barely possible to recognise the equine form, do their duty in highly creditable style, and go along at the rate of ten or twelve miles an hour, under no stronger incentive then the voice of the yamstchik. indeed, the capabilities of these lean, slouching, ungainly quadrupeds are often astounding when they are under the guidance of a man who knows how to drive them. though such a man commonly carries a little harmless whip, he rarely uses it except by waving it horizontally in the air. his incitements are all oral. he talks to his cattle as he would to animals of his own species--now encouraging them by tender, caressing epithets, and now launching at them expressions of indignant scorn. at one moment they are his "little doves," and at the next they have been transformed into "cursed hounds." how far they understand and appreciate this curious mixture of endearing cajolery and contemptuous abuse it is difficult to say, but there is no doubt that it somehow has upon them a strange and powerful influence. any one who undertakes a journey of this kind should possess a well-knit, muscular frame and good tough sinews, capable of supporting an unlimited amount of jolting and shaking; at the same time he should be well inured to all the hardships and discomforts incidental to what is vaguely termed "roughing it." when he wishes to sleep in a post-station, he will find nothing softer than a wooden bench, unless he can induce the keeper to put for him on the floor a bundle of hay, which is perhaps softer, but on the whole more disagreeable than the deal board. sometimes he will not get even the wooden bench, for in ordinary post-stations there is but one room for travellers, and the two benches--there are rarely more--may be already occupied. when he does obtain a bench, and succeeds in falling asleep, he must not be astonished if he is disturbed once or twice during the night by people who use the apartment as a waiting-room whilst the post-horses are being changed. these passers-by may even order a samovar, and drink tea, chat, laugh, smoke, and make themselves otherwise disagreeable, utterly regardless of the sleepers. then there are the other intruders, smaller in size but equally objectionable, of which i have already spoken when describing the steamers on the don. regarding them i desire to give merely one word of advice: as you will have abundant occupation in the work of self-defence, learn to distinguish between belligerents and neutrals, and follow the simple principle of international law, that neutrals should not be molested. they may be very ugly, but ugliness does not justify assassination. if, for instance, you should happen in awaking to notice a few black or brown beetles running about your pillow, restrain your murderous hand! if you kill them you commit an act of unnecessary bloodshed; for though they may playfully scamper around you, they will do you no bodily harm. another requisite for a journey in unfrequented districts is a knowledge of the language. it is popularly supposed that if you are familiar with french and german you may travel anywhere in russia. so far as the great cities and chief lines of communication are concerned, this may be true, but beyond that it is a delusion. the russian has not, any more than the west-european, received from nature the gift of tongues. educated russians often speak one or two foreign languages fluently, but the peasants know no language but their own, and it is with the peasantry that one comes in contact. and to converse freely with the peasant requires a considerable familiarity with the language--far more than is required for simply reading a book. though there are few provincialisms, and all classes of the people use the same words--except the words of foreign origin, which are used only by the upper classes--the peasant always speaks in a more laconic and more idiomatic way than the educated man. in the winter months travelling is in some respects pleasanter than in summer, for snow and frost are great macadamisers. if the snow falls evenly, there is for some time the most delightful road that can be imagined. no jolts, no shaking, but a smooth, gliding motion, like that of a boat in calm water, and the horses gallop along as if totally unconscious of the sledge behind them. unfortunately, this happy state of things does not last all through the winter. the road soon gets cut up, and deep transverse furrows (ukhaby) are formed. how these furrows come into existence i have never been able clearly to comprehend, though i have often heard the phenomenon explained by men who imagined they understood it. whatever the cause and mode of formation may be, certain it is that little hills and valleys do get formed, and the sledge, as it crosses over them, bobs up and down like a boat in a chopping sea, with this important difference, that the boat falls into a yielding liquid, whereas the sledge falls upon a solid substance, unyielding and unelastic. the shaking and jolting which result may readily be imagined. there are other discomforts, too, in winter travelling. so long as the air is perfectly still, the cold may be very intense without being disagreeable; but if a strong head wind is blowing, and the thermometer ever so many degrees below zero, driving in an open sledge is a very disagreeable operation, and noses may get frostbitten without their owners perceiving the fact in time to take preventive measures. then why not take covered sledges on such occasions? for the simple reason that they are not to be had; and if they could be procured, it would be well to avoid using them, for they are apt to produce something very like seasickness. besides this, when the sledge gets overturned, it is pleasanter to be shot out on to the clean, refreshing snow than to be buried ignominiously under a pile of miscellaneous baggage. the chief requisite for winter travelling in these icy regions is a plentiful supply of warm furs. an englishman is very apt to be imprudent in this respect, and to trust too much to his natural power of resisting cold. to a certain extent this confidence is justifiable, for an englishman often feels quite comfortable in an ordinary great coat when his russian friends consider it necessary to envelop themselves in furs of the warmest kind; but it may be carried too far, in which case severe punishment is sure to follow, as i once learned by experience. i may relate the incident as a warning to others: one day in mid-winter i started from novgorod, with the intention of visiting some friends at a cavalry barracks situated about ten miles from the town. as the sun was shining brightly, and the distance to be traversed was short, i considered that a light fur and a bashlyk--a cloth hood which protects the ears--would be quite sufficient to keep out the cold, and foolishly disregarded the warnings of a russian friend who happened to call as i was about to start. our route lay along the river due northward, right in the teeth of a strong north wind. a wintry north wind is always and everywhere a disagreeable enemy to face; let the reader try to imagine what it is when the fahrenheit thermometer is at degrees below zero--or rather let him refrain from such an attempt, for the sensation produced cannot be imagined by those who have not experienced it. of course i ought to have turned back--at least, as soon as a sensation of faintness warned me that the circulation was being seriously impeded--but i did not wish to confess my imprudence to the friend who accompanied me. when we had driven about three-fourths of the way we met a peasant-woman, who gesticulated violently, and shouted something to us as we passed. i did not hear what she said, but my friend turned to me and said in an alarming tone--we had been speaking german--"mein gott! ihre nase ist abgefroren!" now the word "abgefroren," as the reader will understand, seemed to indicate that my nose was frozen off, so i put up my hand in some alarm to discover whether i had inadvertently lost the whole or part of the member referred to. it was still in situ and entire, but as hard and insensible as a bit of wood. "you may still save it," said my companion, "if you get out at once and rub it vigorously with snow." i got out as directed, but was too faint to do anything vigorously. my fur cloak flew open, the cold seemed to grasp me in the region of the heart, and i fell insensible. how long i remained unconscious i know not. when i awoke i found myself in a strange room, surrounded by dragoon officers in uniform, and the first words i heard were, "he is out of danger now, but he will have a fever." these words were spoken, as i afterwards discovered, by a very competent surgeon; but the prophecy was not fulfilled. the promised fever never came. the only bad consequences were that for some days my right hand remained stiff, and for a week or two i had to conceal my nose from public view. if this little incident justifies me in drawing a general conclusion, i should say that exposure to extreme cold is an almost painless form of death; but that the process of being resuscitated is very painful indeed--so painful, that the patient may be excused for momentarily regretting that officious people prevented the temporary insensibility from becoming "the sleep that knows no waking." between the alternate reigns of winter and summer there is always a short interregnum, during which travelling in russia by road is almost impossible. woe to the ill-fated mortal who has to make a long road-journey immediately after the winter snow has melted; or, worse still, at the beginning of winter, when the autumn mud has been petrified by the frost, and not yet levelled by the snow! at all seasons the monotony of a journey is pretty sure to be broken by little unforeseen episodes of a more or less disagreeable kind. an axle breaks, or a wheel comes off, or there is a difficulty in procuring horses. as an illustration of the graver episodes which may occur, i shall make here a quotation from my note-book: early in the morning we arrived at maikop, a small town commanding the entrance to one of the valleys which run up towards the main range of the caucasus. on alighting at the post-station, we at once ordered horses for the next stage, and received the laconic reply, "there are no horses." "and when will there be some?" "to-morrow!" this last reply we took for a piece of playful exaggeration, and demanded the book in which, according to law, the departure of horses is duly inscribed, and from which it is easy to calculate when the first team should be ready to start. a short calculation proved that we ought to get horses by four o'clock in the afternoon, so we showed the station-keeper various documents signed by the minister of the interior and other influential personages, and advised him to avoid all contravention of the postal regulations. these documents, which proved that we enjoyed the special protection of the authorities, had generally been of great service to us in our dealings with rascally station-keepers; but this station-keeper was not one of the ordinary type. he was a cossack, of herculean proportions, with a bullet-shaped head, short-cropped bristly hair, shaggy eyebrows, an enormous pendent moustache, a defiant air, and a peculiar expression of countenance which plainly indicated "an ugly customer." though it was still early in the day, he had evidently already imbibed a considerable quantity of alcohol, and his whole demeanour showed clearly enough that he was not of those who are "pleasant in their liquor." after glancing superciliously at the documents, as if to intimate he could read them were he so disposed, he threw them down on the table, and, thrusting his gigantic paws into his capacious trouser-pockets, remarked slowly and decisively, in something deeper than a double-bass voice, "you'll have horses to-morrow morning." wishing to avoid a quarrel we tried to hire horses in the village, and when our efforts in that direction proved fruitless, we applied to the head of the rural police. he came and used all his influence with the refractory station-keeper, but in vain. hercules was not in a mood to listen to officials any more than to ordinary mortals. at last, after considerable trouble to himself, our friend of the police contrived to find horses for us, and we contented ourselves with entering an account of the circumstances in the complaint book, but our difficulties were by no means at an end. as soon as hercules perceived that we had obtained horses without his assistance, and that he had thereby lost his opportunity of blackmailing us, he offered us one of his own teams, and insisted on detaining us until we should cancel the complaint against him. this we refused to do, and our relations with him became what is called in diplomatic language "extremement tendues." again we had to apply to the police. my friend mounted guard over the baggage whilst i went to the police office. i was not long absent, but i found, on my return, that important events had taken place in the interval. a crowd had collected round the post-station, and on the steps stood the keeper and his post-boys, declaring that the traveller inside had attempted to shoot them! i rushed in and soon perceived, by the smell of gunpowder, that firearms had been used, but found no trace of casualties. my friend was tramping up and down the little room, and evidently for the moment there was an armistice. in a very short time the local authorities had assembled, a candle had been lit, two armed cossacks stood as sentries at the door, and the preliminary investigation had begun. the chief of police sat at the table and wrote rapidly on a sheet of foolscap. the investigation showed that two shots had been fired from a revolver, and two bullets were found imbedded in the wall. all those who had been present, and some who knew nothing of the incident except by hearsay, were duly examined. our opponents always assumed that my friend had been the assailant, in spite of his protestations to the contrary, and more than once the words pokyshenie na ubiistvo (attempt to murder) were pronounced. things looked very black indeed. we had the prospect of being detained for days and weeks in the miserable place, till the insatiable demon of official formality had been propitiated. and then? when things were thus at their blackest they suddenly took an unexpected turn, and the deus ex machina appeared precisely at the right moment, just as if we had all been puppets in a sensation novel. there was the usual momentary silence, and then, mixed with the sound of an approaching tarantass, a confused murmur: "there he is! he is coming!" the "he" thus vaguely and mysteriously indicated turned out to be an official of the judicial administration, who had reason to visit the village for an entirely different affair. as soon as he had been told briefly what had happened he took the matter in hand and showed himself equal to the occasion. unlike the majority of russian officials he disliked lengthy procedure, and succeeded in making the case quite clear in a very short time. there had been, he perceived, no attempt to murder or anything of the kind. the station-keeper and his two post-boys, who had no right to be in the traveller's room, had entered with threatening mien, and when they refused to retire peaceably, my friend had fired two shots in order to frighten them and bring assistance. the falsity of their statement that he had fired at them as they entered the room was proved by the fact that the bullets were lodged near the ceiling in the wall farthest away from the door. i must confess that i was agreeably surprised by this unexpected turn of affairs. the conclusions arrived at were nothing more than a simple statement of what had taken place; but i was surprised at the fact that a man who was at once a lawyer and a russian official should have been able to take such a plain, commonsense view of the case. before midnight we were once more free men, driving rapidly in the clear moonlight to the next station, under the escort of a fully-armed circassian cossack; but the idea that we might have been detained for weeks in that miserable place haunted us like a nightmare. chapter ii in the northern forests bird's-eye view of russia--the northern forests--purpose of my journey--negotiations--the road--a village--a peasant's house--vapour-baths--curious custom--arrival. there are many ways of describing a country that one has visited. the simplest and most common method is to give a chronological account of the journey; and this is perhaps the best way when the journey does not extend over more than a few weeks. but it cannot be conveniently employed in the case of a residence of many years. did i adopt it, i should very soon exhaust the reader's patience. i should have to take him with me to a secluded village, and make him wait for me till i had learned to speak the language. thence he would have to accompany me to a provincial town, and spend months in a public office, whilst i endeavoured to master the mysteries of local self-government. after this he would have to spend two years with me in a big library, where i studied the history and literature of the country. and so on, and so on. even my journeys would prove tedious to him, as they often were to myself, for he would have to drive with me many a score of weary miles, where even the most zealous diary-writer would find nothing to record beyond the names of the post-stations. it will be well for me, then, to avoid the strictly chronological method, and confine myself to a description of the more striking objects and incidents that came under my notice. the knowledge which i derived from books will help me to supply a running commentary on what i happened to see and hear. instead of beginning in the usual way with st. petersburg, i prefer for many reasons to leave the description of the capital till some future time, and plunge at once into the great northern forest region. if it were possible to get a bird's-eye view of european russia, the spectator would perceive that the country is composed of two halves widely differing from each other in character. the northern half is a land of forest and morass, plentifully supplied with water in the form of rivers, lakes, and marshes, and broken up by numerous patches of cultivation. the southern half is, as it were, the other side of the pattern--an immense expanse of rich, arable land, broken up by occasional patches of sand or forest. the imaginary undulating line separating those two regions starts from the western frontier about the th parallel of latitude, and runs in a northeasterly direction till it enters the ural range at about degrees n.l. well do i remember my first experience of travel in the northern region, and the weeks of voluntary exile which formed the goal of the journey. it was in the summer of . my reason for undertaking the journey was this: a few months of life in st. petersburg had fully convinced me that the russian language is one of those things which can only be acquired by practice, and that even a person of antediluvian longevity might spend all his life in that city without learning to express himself fluently in the vernacular--especially if he has the misfortune of being able to speak english, french, and german. with his friends and associates he speaks french or english. german serves as a medium of communication with waiters, shop keepers, and other people of that class. it is only with isvoshtchiki--the drivers of the little open droshkis which fulfil the function of cabs--that he is obliged to use the native tongue, and with them a very limited vocabulary suffices. the ordinal numerals and four short, easily-acquired expressions--poshol (go on), na pravo (to the right), na lyevo (to the left), and stoi (stop)--are all that is required. whilst i was considering how i could get beyond the sphere of west-european languages, a friend came to my assistance, and suggested that i should go to his estate in the province of novgorod, where i should find an intelligent, amiable parish priest, quite innocent of any linguistic acquirements. this proposal i at once adopted, and accordingly found myself one morning at a small station of the moscow railway, endeavouring to explain to a peasant in sheep's clothing that i wished to be conveyed to ivanofka, the village where my future teacher lived. at that time i still spoke russian in a very fragmentary and confused way--pretty much as spanish cows are popularly supposed to speak french. my first remark therefore being literally interpreted, was--"ivanofka. horses. you can?" the point of interrogation was expressed by a simultaneous raising of the voice and the eyebrows. "ivanofka?" cried the peasant, in an interrogatory tone of voice. in russia, as in other countries, the peasantry when speaking with strangers like to repeat questions, apparently for the purpose of gaining time. "ivanofka," i replied. "now?" "now!" after some reflection the peasant nodded and said something which i did not understand, but which i assumed to mean that he was open to consider proposals for transporting me to my destination. "roubles. how many?" to judge by the knitting of the brows and the scratching of the head, i should say that that question gave occasion to a very abstruse mathematical calculation. gradually the look of concentrated attention gave place to an expression such as children assume when they endeavour to get a parental decision reversed by means of coaxing. then came a stream of soft words which were to me utterly unintelligible. i must not weary the reader with a detailed account of the succeeding negotiations, which were conducted with extreme diplomatic caution on both sides, as if a cession of territory or the payment of a war indemnity had been the subject of discussion. three times he drove away and three times returned. each time he abated his pretensions, and each time i slightly increased my offer. at last, when i began to fear that he had finally taken his departure and had left me to my own devices, he re-entered the room and took up my baggage, indicating thereby that he agreed to my last offer. the sum agreed upon would have been, under ordinary circumstances, more than sufficient, but before proceeding far i discovered that the circumstances were by no means ordinary, and i began to understand the pantomimic gesticulation which had puzzled me during the negotiations. heavy rain had fallen without interruption for several days, and now the track on which we were travelling could not, without poetical license, be described as a road. in some parts it resembled a water-course, in others a quagmire, and at least during the first half of the journey i was constantly reminded of that stage in the work of creation when the water was not yet separated from the dry land. during the few moments when the work of keeping my balance and preventing my baggage from being lost did not engross all my attention, i speculated on the possibility of inventing a boat-carriage, to be drawn by some amphibious quadruped. fortunately our two lean, wiry little horses did not object to being used as aquatic animals. they took the water bravely, and plunged through the mud in gallant style. the telega in which we were seated--a four-wheeled skeleton cart--did not submit to the ill-treatment so silently. it creaked out its remonstrances and entreaties, and at the more difficult spots threatened to go to pieces; but its owner understood its character and capabilities, and paid no attention to its ominous threats. once, indeed, a wheel came off, but it was soon fished out of the mud and replaced, and no further casualty occurred. the horses did their work so well that when about midday we arrived at a village, i could not refuse to let them have some rest and refreshment--all the more as my own thoughts had begun to turn in that direction. the village, like villages in that part of the country generally, consisted of two long parallel rows of wooden houses. the road--if a stratum of deep mud can be called by that name--formed the intervening space. all the houses turned their gables to the passerby, and some of them had pretensions to architectural decoration in the form of rude perforated woodwork. between the houses, and in a line with them, were great wooden gates and high wooden fences, separating the courtyards from the road. into one of these yards, near the farther end of the village, our horses turned of their own accord. "an inn?" i said, in an interrogative tone. the driver shook his head and said something, in which i detected the word "friend." evidently there was no hostelry for man and beast in the village, and the driver was using a friend's house for the purpose. the yard was flanked on the one side by an open shed, containing rude agricultural implements which might throw some light on the agriculture of the primitive aryans, and on the other side by the dwelling-house and stable. both the house and stable were built of logs, nearly cylindrical in form, and placed in horizontal tiers. two of the strongest of human motives, hunger and curiosity, impelled me to enter the house at once. without waiting for an invitation, i went up to the door--half protected against the winter snows by a small open portico--and unceremoniously walked in. the first apartment was empty, but i noticed a low door in the wall to the left, and passing through this, entered the principal room. as the scene was new to me, i noted the principal objects. in the wall before me were two small square windows looking out upon the road, and in the corner to the right, nearer to the ceiling than to the floor, was a little triangular shelf, on which stood a religious picture. before the picture hung a curious oil lamp. in the corner to the left of the door was a gigantic stove, built of brick, and whitewashed. from the top of the stove to the wall on the right stretched what might be called an enormous shelf, six or eight feet in breadth. this is the so-called palati, as i afterwards discovered, and serves as a bed for part of the family. the furniture consisted of a long wooden bench attached to the wall on the right, a big, heavy, deal table, and a few wooden stools. whilst i was leisurely surveying these objects, i heard a noise on the top of the stove, and, looking up, perceived a human face, with long hair parted in the middle, and a full yellow beard. i was considerably astonished by this apparition, for the air in the room was stifling, and i had some difficulty in believing that any created being--except perhaps a salamander or a negro--could exist in such a position. i looked hard to convince myself that i was not the victim of a delusion. as i stared, the head nodded slowly and pronounced the customary form of greeting. i returned the greeting slowly, wondering what was to come next. "ill, very ill!" sighed the head. "i'm not astonished at that," i remarked, in an "aside." "if i were lying on the stove as you are i should be very ill too." "hot, very hot?" i remarked, interrogatively. "nitchevo"--that is to say, "not particularly." this remark astonished me all the more as i noticed that the body to which the head belonged was enveloped in a sheep-skin! after living some time in russia i was no longer surprised by such incidents, for i soon discovered that the russian peasant has a marvellous power of bearing extreme heat as well as extreme cold. when a coachman takes his master or mistress to the theatre or to a party, he never thinks of going home and returning at an appointed time. hour after hour he sits placidly on the box, and though the cold be of an intensity such as is never experienced in our temperate climate, he can sleep as tranquilly as the lazzaroni at midday in naples. in that respect the russian peasant seems to be first-cousin to the polar bear, but, unlike the animals of the arctic regions, he is not at all incommoded by excessive heat. on the contrary, he likes it when he can get it, and never omits an opportunity of laying in a reserve supply of caloric. he even delights in rapid transitions from one extreme to the other, as is amply proved by a curious custom which deserves to be recorded. the reader must know that in the life of the russian peasantry the weekly vapour-bath plays a most important part. it has even a certain religious signification, for no good orthodox peasant would dare to enter a church after being soiled by certain kinds of pollution without cleansing himself physically and morally by means of the bath. in the weekly arrangements it forms the occupation for saturday afternoon, and care is taken to avoid thereafter all pollution until after the morning service on sunday. many villages possess a public or communal bath of the most primitive construction, but in some parts of the country--i am not sure how far the practice extends--the peasants take their vapour-bath in the household oven in which the bread is baked! in all cases the operation is pushed to the extreme limit of human endurance--far beyond the utmost limit that can be endured by those who have not been accustomed to it from childhood. for my own part, i only made the experiment once; and when i informed my attendant that my life was in danger from congestion of the brain, he laughed outright, and told me that the operation had only begun. most astounding of all--and this brings me to the fact which led me into this digression--the peasants in winter often rush out of the bath and roll themselves in the snow! this aptly illustrates a common russian proverb, which says that what is health to the russian is death to the german. cold water, as well as hot vapour, is sometimes used as a means of purification. in the villages the old pagan habit of masquerading in absurd costumes at certain seasons--as is done during the carnival in roman catholic countries with the approval, or at least connivance, of the church--still survives; but it is regarded as not altogether sinless. he who uses such disguises places himself to a certain extent under the influence of the evil one, thereby putting his soul in jeopardy; and to free himself from this danger he has to purify himself in the following way: when the annual mid-winter ceremony of blessing the waters is performed, by breaking a hole in the ice and immersing a cross with certain religious rites, he should plunge into the hole as soon as possible after the ceremony. i remember once at yaroslavl, on the volga, two young peasants successfully accomplished this feat--though the police have orders to prevent it--and escaped, apparently without evil consequences, though the fahrenheit thermometer was below zero. how far the custom has really a purifying influence, is a question which must be left to theologians; but even an ordinary mortal can understand that, if it be regarded as a penance, it must have a certain deterrent effect. the man who foresees the necessity of undergoing this severe penance will think twice before putting on a disguise. so at least it must have been in the good old times; but in these degenerate days--among the russian peasantry as elsewhere--the fear of the devil, which was formerly, if not the beginning, at least one of the essential elements, of wisdom, has greatly decreased. many a young peasant will now thoughtlessly disguise himself, and when the consecration of the water is performed, will stand and look on passively like an ordinary spectator! it would seem that the devil, like his enemy the pope, is destined to lose gradually his temporal power. but all this time i am neglecting my new acquaintance on the top of the stove. in reality i did not neglect him, but listened most attentively to every word of the long tale that he recited. what it was all about i could only vaguely guess, for i did not understand more than ten per cent of the words used, but i assumed from the tone and gestures that he was relating to me all the incidents and symptoms of his illness. and a very severe illness it must have been, for it requires a very considerable amount of physical suffering to make the patient russian peasant groan. before he had finished his tale a woman entered, apparently his wife. to her i explained that i had a strong desire to eat and drink, and that i wished to know what she would give me. by a good deal of laborious explanation i was made to understand that i could have eggs, black bread, and milk, and we agreed that there should be a division of labour: my hostess should prepare the samovar for boiling water, whilst i should fry the eggs to my own satisfaction. in a few minutes the repast was ready, and, though not very delicate, was highly acceptable. the tea and sugar i had of course brought with me; the eggs were not very highly flavoured; and the black rye-bread, strongly intermixed with sand, could be eaten by a peculiar and easily-acquired method of mastication, in which the upper molars are never allowed to touch those of the lower jaw. in this way the grating of the sand between the teeth is avoided. eggs, black bread, milk, and tea--these formed my ordinary articles of food during all my wanderings in northern russia. occasionally potatoes could be got, and afforded the possibility of varying the bill of fare. the favourite materials employed in the native cookery are sour cabbage, cucumbers, and kvass--a kind of very small beer made from black bread. none of these can be recommended to the traveller who is not already accustomed to them. the remainder of the journey was accomplished at a rather more rapid pace than the preceding part, for the road was decidedly better, though it was traversed by numerous half-buried roots, which produced violent jolts. from the conversation of the driver i gathered that wolves, bears, and elks were found in the forest through which we were passing. the sun had long since set when we reached our destination, and i found to my dismay that the priest's house was closed for the night. to rouse the reverend personage from his slumbers, and endeavour to explain to him with my limited vocabulary the object of my visit, was not to be thought of. on the other hand, there was no inn of any kind in the vicinity. when i consulted the driver as to what was to be done, he meditated for a little, and then pointed to a large house at some distance where there were still lights. it turned out to be the country-house of the gentleman who had advised me to undertake the journey, and here, after a short explanation, though the owner was not at home, i was hospitably received. it had been my intention to live in the priest's house, but a short interview with him on the following day convinced me that that part of my plan could not be carried out. the preliminary objections that i should find but poor fare in his humble household, and much more of the same kind, were at once put aside by my assurance, made partly by pantomime, that, as an old traveller, i was well accustomed to simple fare, and could always accommodate myself to the habits of people among whom my lot happened to be cast. but there was a more serious difficulty. the priest's family had, as is generally the case with priests' families, been rapidly increasing during the last few years, and his house had not been growing with equal rapidity. the natural consequence of this was that he had not a room or a bed to spare. the little room which he had formerly kept for occasional visitors was now occupied by his eldest daughter, who had returned from a "school for the daughters of the clergy," where she had been for the last two years. under these circumstances, i was constrained to accept the kind proposal made to me by the representative of my absent friend, that i should take up my quarters in one of the numerous unoccupied rooms in the manor-house. this arrangement, i was reminded, would not at all interfere with my proposed studies, for the priest lived close at hand, and i might spend with him as much time as i liked. and now let me introduce the reader to my reverend teacher and one or two other personages whose acquaintance i made during my voluntary exile. chapter iii voluntary exile ivanofka--history of the place--the steward of the estate--slav and teutonic natures--a german's view of the emancipation--justices of the peace--new school of morals--the russian language--linguistic talent of the russians--my teacher--a big dose of current history. this village, ivanofka by name, in which i proposed to spend some months, was rather more picturesque than villages in these northern forests commonly are. the peasants' huts, built on both sides of a straight road, were colourless enough, and the big church, with its five pear-shaped cupolas rising out of the bright green roof and its ugly belfry in the renaissance style, was not by any means beautiful in itself; but when seen from a little distance, especially in the soft evening twilight, the whole might have been made the subject of a very pleasing picture. from the point that a landscape-painter would naturally have chosen, the foreground was formed by a meadow, through which flowed sluggishly a meandering stream. on a bit of rising ground to the right, and half concealed by an intervening cluster of old rich-coloured pines, stood the manor-house--a big, box-shaped, whitewashed building, with a verandah in front, overlooking a small plot that might some day become a flower-garden. to the left of this stood the village, the houses grouping prettily with the big church, and a little farther in this direction was an avenue of graceful birches. on the extreme left were fields, bounded by a dark border of fir-trees. could the spectator have raised himself a few hundred feet from the ground, he would have seen that there were fields beyond the village, and that the whole of this agricultural oasis was imbedded in a forest stretching in all directions as far as the eye could reach. the history of the place may be told in a few words. in former times the estate, including the village and all its inhabitants, had belonged to a monastery, but when, in , the church lands were secularised by catherine, it became the property of the state. some years afterwards the empress granted it, with the serfs and everything else which it contained, to an old general who had distinguished himself in the turkish wars. from that time it had remained in the k---- family. some time between the years and the big church and the mansion-house had been built by the actual possessor's father, who loved country life, and devoted a large part of his time and energies to the management of his estate. his son, on the contrary, preferred st. petersburg to the country, served in one of the public offices, loved passionately french plays and other products of urban civilisation, and left the entire management of the property to a german steward, popularly known as karl karl'itch, whom i shall introduce to the reader presently. the village annals contained no important events, except bad harvests, cattle-plagues, and destructive fires, with which the inhabitants seem to have been periodically visited from time immemorial. if good harvests were ever experienced, they must have faded from the popular recollection. then there were certain ancient traditions which might have been lessened in bulk and improved in quality by being subjected to searching historical criticism. more than once, for instance, a leshie, or wood-sprite, had been seen in the neighbourhood; and in several households the domovoi, or brownie, had been known to play strange pranks until he was properly propitiated. and as a set-off against these manifestations of evil powers, there were well-authenticated stories about a miracle-working image that had mysteriously appeared on the branch of a tree, and about numerous miraculous cures that had been effected by means of pilgrimages to holy shrines. but it is time to introduce the principal personages of this little community. of these, by far the most important was karl karl'itch, the steward. first of all i ought, perhaps, to explain how karl schmidt, the son of a well-to-do bauer in the prussian village of schonhausen, became karl karl'itch, the principal personage in the russian village of ivanofka. about the time of the crimean war many of the russian landed proprietors had become alive to the necessity of improving the primitive, traditional methods of agriculture, and sought for this purpose german stewards for their estates. among these proprietors was the owner of ivanofka. through the medium of a friend in berlin he succeeded in engaging for a moderate salary a young man who had just finished his studies in one of the german schools of agriculture--the institution at hohenheim, if my memory does not deceive me. this young man had arrived in russia as plain karl schmidt, but his name was soon transformed into karl karl'itch, not from any desire of his own, but in accordance with a curious russian custom. in russia one usually calls a man not by his family name, but by his christian name and patronymic--the latter being formed from the name of his father. thus, if a man's name is nicholas, and his father's christian name is--or was--ivan, you address him as nikolai ivanovitch (pronounced ivan'itch); and if this man should happen to have a sister called mary, you will address her--even though she should be married--as marya ivanovna (pronounced ivanna). immediately on his arrival young schmidt had set himself vigorously to reorganise the estate and improve the method of agriculture. some ploughs, harrows, and other implements which had been imported at a former period were dragged out of the obscurity in which they had lain for several years, and an attempt was made to farm on scientific principles. the attempt was far from being completely successful, for the serfs--this was before the emancipation--could not be made to work like regularly trained german labourers. in spite of all admonitions, threats, and punishments, they persisted in working slowly, listlessly, inaccurately, and occasionally they broke the new instruments from carelessness or some more culpable motive. karl karl'itch was not naturally a hard-hearted man, but he was very rigid in his notions of duty, and could be cruelly severe when his orders were not executed with an accuracy and punctuality that seemed to the russian rustic mind mere useless pedantry. the serfs did not offer him any open opposition, and were always obsequiously respectful in their demeanour towards him, but they invariably frustrated his plans by their carelessness and stolid, passive resistance. thus arose that silent conflict and that smouldering mutual enmity which almost always result from the contact of the teuton with the slav. the serfs instinctively regretted the good old times, when they lived under the rough-and-ready patriarchal rule of their masters, assisted by a native "burmister," or overseer, who was one of themselves. the burmister had not always been honest in his dealings with them, and the master had often, when in anger, ordered severe punishments to be inflicted; but the burmister had not attempted to make them change their old habits, and had shut his eyes to many little sins of omission and commission, whilst the master was always ready to assist them in difficulties, and commonly treated them in a kindly, familiar way. as the old russian proverb has it, "where danger is, there too is kindly forgiveness." karl karl'itch, on the contrary, was the personification of uncompassionate, inflexible law. blind rage and compassionate kindliness were alike foreign to his system of government. if he had any feeling towards the serfs, it was one of chronic contempt. the word durak (blockhead) was constantly on his lips, and when any bit of work was well done, he took it as a matter of course, and never thought of giving a word of approval or encouragement. when it became evident, in , that the emancipation of the serfs was at hand, karl karl'itch confidently predicted that the country would inevitably go to ruin. he knew by experience that the peasants were lazy and improvident, even when they lived under the tutelage of a master, and with the fear of the rod before their eyes. what would they become when this guidance and salutary restraint should be removed? the prospect raised terrible forebodings in the mind of the worthy steward, who had his employer's interests really at heart; and these forebodings were considerably increased and intensified when he learned that the peasants were to receive by law the land which they occupied on sufferance, and which comprised about a half of the whole arable land of the estate. this arrangement he declared to be a dangerous and unjustifiable infraction of the sacred rights of property, which savoured strongly of communism, and could have but one practical result: the emancipated peasants would live by the cultivation of their own land, and would not consent on any terms to work for their former master. in the few months which immediately followed the publication of the emancipation edict in , karl karl'itch found much to confirm his most gloomy apprehensions. the peasants showed themselves dissatisfied with the privileges conferred upon them, and sought to evade the corresponding duties imposed on them by the new law. in vain he endeavoured, by exhortations, promises, and threats, to get the most necessary part of the field-work done, and showed the peasants the provision of the law enjoining them to obey and work as of old until some new arrangement should be made. to all his appeals they replied that, having been freed by the tsar, they were no longer obliged to work for their former master; and he was at last forced to appeal to the authorities. this step had a certain effect, but the field-work was executed that year even worse than usual, and the harvest suffered in consequence. since that time things had gradually improved. the peasants had discovered that they could not support themselves and pay their taxes from the land ceded to them, and had accordingly consented to till the proprietor's fields for a moderate recompense. "these last two years," said karl karl'itch to me, with an air of honest self-satisfaction, "i have been able, after paying all expenses, to transmit little sums to the young master in st. petersburg. it was certainly not much, but it shows that things are better than they were. still, it is hard, uphill work. the peasants have not been improved by liberty. they now work less and drink more than they did in the times of serfage, and if you say a word to them they'll go away, and not work for you at all." here karl karl'itch indemnified himself for his recent self-control in the presence of his workers by using a series of the strongest epithets which the combined languages of his native and of his adopted country could supply. "but laziness and drunkenness are not their only faults. they let their cattle wander into our fields, and never lose an opportunity of stealing firewood from the forest." "but you have now for such matters the rural justices of the peace," i ventured to suggest. "the justices of the peace!" . . . here karl karl'itch used an inelegant expression, which showed plainly that he was no unqualified admirer of the new judicial institutions. "what is the use of applying to the justices? the nearest one lives six miles off, and when i go to him he evidently tries to make me lose as much time as possible. i am sure to lose nearly a whole day, and at the end of it i may find that i have got nothing for my pains. these justices always try to find some excuse for the peasant, and when they do condemn, by way of exception, the affair does not end there. there is pretty sure to be a pettifogging practitioner prowling about--some rascally scribe who has been dismissed from the public offices for pilfering and extorting too openly--and he is always ready to whisper to the peasant that he should appeal. the peasant knows that the decision is just, but he is easily persuaded that by appealing to the monthly sessions he gets another chance in the lottery, and may perhaps draw a prize. he lets the rascally scribe, therefore, prepare an appeal for him, and i receive an invitation to attend the session of justices in the district town on a certain day. "it is a good five-and-thirty miles to the district town, as you know, but i get up early, and arrive at eleven o'clock, the hour stated in the official notice. a crowd of peasants are hanging about the door of the court, but the only official present is the porter. i enquire of him when my case is likely to come on, and receive the laconic answer, 'how should i know?' after half an hour the secretary arrives. i repeat my question, and receive the same answer. another half hour passes, and one of the justices drives up in his tarantass. perhaps he is a glib-tongued gentleman, and assures me that the proceedings will commence at once: 'sei tchas! sei tchas!' don't believe what the priest or the dictionary tells you about the meaning of that expression. the dictionary will tell you that it means 'immediately,' but that's all nonsense. in the mouth of a russian it means 'in an hour,' 'next week,' 'in a year or two,' 'never'--most commonly 'never.' like many other words in russian, 'sei tchas' can be understood only after long experience. a second justice drives up, and then a third. no more are required by law, but these gentlemen must first smoke several cigarettes and discuss all the local news before they begin work. "at last they take their seats on the bench--a slightly elevated platform at one end of the room, behind a table covered with green baize--and the proceedings commence. my case is sure to be pretty far down on the list--the secretary takes, i believe, a malicious pleasure in watching my impatience--and before it is called the justices have to retire at least once for refreshments and cigarettes. i have to amuse myself by listening to the other cases, and some of them, i can assure you, are amusing enough. the walls of that room must be by this time pretty well saturated with perjury, and many of the witnesses catch at once the infection. perhaps i may tell you some other time a few of the amusing incidents that i have seen there. at last my case is called. it is as clear as daylight, but the rascally pettifogger is there with a long-prepared speech, he holds in his hand a small volume of the codified law, and quotes paragraphs which no amount of human ingenuity can make to bear upon the subject. perhaps the previous decision is confirmed; perhaps it is reversed; in either case, i have lost a second day and exhausted more patience than i can conveniently spare. and something even worse may happen, as i know by experience. once during a case of mine there was some little informality--someone inadvertently opened the door of the consulting-room when the decision was being written, or some other little incident of the sort occurred, and the rascally pettifogger complained to the supreme court of revision, which is a part of the senate. the case was all about a few roubles, but it was discussed in st. petersburg, and afterwards tried over again by another court of justices. now i have paid my lehrgeld, and go no more to law." "then you must expose yourself to all kinds of extortion?" "not so much as you might imagine. i have my own way of dispensing justice. when i catch a peasant's horse or cow in our fields, i lock it up and make the owner pay a ransom." "is it not rather dangerous," i inquired, "to take the law thus into your own hands? i have heard that the russian justices are extremely severe against any one who has recourse to what our german jurists call selbsthulfe." "that they are! so long as you are in russia, you had much better let yourself be quietly robbed than use any violence against the robber. it is less trouble, and it is cheaper in the long run. if you do not, you may unexpectedly find yourself some fine morning in prison! you must know that many of the young justices belong to the new school of morals." "what is that? i have not heard of any new discoveries lately in the sphere of speculative ethics." "well, to tell you the truth, i am not one of the initiated, and i can only tell you what i hear. so far as i have noticed, the representatives of the new doctrine talk chiefly about gumannost' and tchelovetcheskoe dostoinstvo. you know what these words mean?" "humanity, or rather humanitarianism and human dignity," i replied, not sorry to give a proof that i was advancing in my studies. "there, again, you allow your dictionary and your priest to mislead you. these terms, when used by a russian, cover much more than we understand by them, and those who use them most frequently have generally a special tenderness for all kinds of malefactors. in the old times, malefactors were popularly believed to be bad, dangerous people; but it has been lately discovered that this is a delusion. a young proprietor who lives not far off assures me that they are the true protestants, and the most powerful social reformers! they protest practically against those imperfections of social organisation of which they are the involuntary victims. the feeble, characterless man quietly submits to his chains; the bold, generous, strong man breaks his fetters, and helps others to do the same. a very ingenious defence of all kinds of rascality, isn't it?" "well, it is a theory that might certainly be carried too far, and might easily lead to very inconvenient conclusions; but i am not sure that, theoretically speaking, it does not contain a certain element of truth. it ought at least to foster that charity which we are enjoined to practise towards all men. but perhaps 'all men' does not include publicans and sinners?" on hearing these words karl karl'itch turned to me, and every feature of his honest german face expressed the most undisguised astonishment. "are you, too, a nihilist?" he inquired, as soon as he had partially recovered his breath. "i really don't know what a nihilist is, but i may assure you that i am not an 'ist' of any kind. what is a nihilist?" "if you live long in russia you'll learn that without my telling you. as i was saying, i am not at all afraid of the peasants citing me before the justice. they know better now. if they gave me too much trouble i could starve their cattle." "yes, when you catch them in your fields," i remarked, taking no notice of the abrupt turn which he had given to the conversation. "i can do it without that. you must know that, by the emancipation law, the peasants received arable land, but they received little or no pasturage. i have the whip hand of them there!" the remarks of karl karl'itch on men and things were to me always interesting, for he was a shrewd observer, and displayed occasionally a pleasant, dry humour. but i very soon discovered that his opinions were not to be accepted without reserve. his strong, inflexible teutonic nature often prevented him from judging impartially. he had no sympathy with the men and the institutions around him, and consequently he was unable to see things from the inside. the specks and blemishes on the surface he perceived clearly enough, but he had no knowledge of the secret, deep-rooted causes by which these specks and blemishes were produced. the simple fact that a man was a russian satisfactorily accounted, in his opinion, for any kind of moral deformity; and his knowledge turned out to be by no means so extensive as i had at first supposed. though he had been many years in the country, he knew very little about the life of the peasants beyond that small part of it which concerned directly his own interests and those of his employer. of the communal organisation, domestic life, religious beliefs, ceremonial practices, and nomadic habits of his humble neighbours, he knew little, and the little he happened to know was far from accurate. in order to gain a knowledge of these matters it would be better, i perceived, to consult the priest, or, better still, the peasants themselves. but to do this it would be necessary to understand easily and speak fluently the colloquial language, and i was still very far from having, acquired the requisite proficiency. even for one who possesses a natural facility for acquiring foreign tongues, the learning of russian is by no means an easy task. though it is essentially an aryan language like our own, and contains only a slight intermixture of tartar words,--such as bashlyk (a hood), kalpak (a night-cap), arbuz (a water-melon), etc.--it has certain sounds unknown to west-european ears, and difficult for west-european tongues, and its roots, though in great part derived from the same original stock as those of the graeco-latin and teutonic languages, are generally not at all easily recognised. as an illustration of this, take the russian word otets. strange as it may at first sight appear, this word is merely another form of our word father, of the german vater, and of the french pere. the syllable ets is the ordinary russian termination denoting the agent, corresponding to the english and german ending er, as we see in such words as--kup-ets (a buyer), plov-ets (a swimmer), and many others. the root ot is a mutilated form of vot, as we see in the word otchina (a paternal inheritance), which is frequently written votchina. now vot is evidently the same root as the german vat in vater, and the english fath in father. quod erat demonstrandum. all this is simple enough, and goes to prove the fundamental identity, or rather the community of origin, of the slav and teutonic languages; but it will be readily understood that etymological analogies so carefully disguised are of little practical use in helping us to acquire a foreign tongue. besides this, the grammatical forms and constructions in russian are very peculiar, and present a great many strange irregularities. as an illustration of this we may take the future tense. the russian verb has commonly a simple and a frequentative future. the latter is always regularly formed by means of an auxiliary with the infinitive, as in english, but the former is constructed in a variety of ways, for which no rule can be given, so that the simple future of each individual verb must be learned by a pure effort of memory. in many verbs it is formed by prefixing a preposition, but it is impossible to determine by rule which preposition should be used. thus idu (i go) becomes poidu; pishu (i write) becomes napishu; pyu (i drink) becomes vuipyu, and so on. closely akin to the difficulties of pronunciation is the difficulty of accentuating the proper syllable. in this respect russian is like greek; you can rarely tell a priori on what syllable the accent falls. but it is more puzzling than greek, for two reasons: firstly, it is not customary to print russian with accents; and secondly, no one has yet been able to lay down precise rules for the transposition of the accent in the various inflections of the same word, of this latter peculiarity, let one illustration suffice. the word ruka (hand) has the accent on the last syllable, but in the accusative (ruku) the accent goes back to the first syllable. it must not, however, be assumed that in all words of this type a similar transposition takes place. the word beda (misfortune), for instance, as well as very many others, always retains the accent on the last syllable. these and many similar difficulties, which need not be here enumerated, can be mastered only by long practice. serious as they are, they need not frighten any one who is in the habit of learning foreign tongues. the ear and the tongue gradually become familiar with the peculiarities of inflection and accentuation, and practice fulfils the same function as abstract rules. it is commonly supposed that russians have been endowed by nature with a peculiar linguistic talent. their own language, it is said, is so difficult that they have no difficulty in acquiring others. this common belief requires, as it seems to me, some explanation. that highly educated russians are better linguists than the educated classes of western europe there can be no possible doubt, for they almost always speak french, and often english and german also. the question, however, is whether this is the result of a psychological peculiarity, or of other causes. now, without venturing to deny the existence of a natural faculty, i should say that the other causes have at least exercised a powerful influence. any russian who wishes to be regarded as civilised must possess at least one foreign language; and, as a consequence of this, the children of the upper classes are always taught at least french in their infancy. many households comprise a german nurse, a french tutor, and an english governess; and the children thus become accustomed from their earliest years to the use of these three languages. besides this, russian is phonetically very rich and contains nearly all the sounds which are to be found in west-european tongues. perhaps on the whole it would be well to apply here the darwinian theory, and suppose that the russian noblesse, having been obliged for several generations to acquire foreign languages, have gradually developed a hereditary polyglot talent. several circumstances concurred to assist me in my efforts, during my voluntary exile, to acquire at least such a knowledge of the language as would enable me to converse freely with the peasantry. in the first place, my reverend teacher was an agreeable, kindly, talkative man, who took a great delight in telling interminable stories, quite independently of any satisfaction which he might derive from the consciousness of their being understood and appreciated. even when walking alone he was always muttering something to an imaginary listener. a stranger meeting him on such occasions might have supposed that he was holding converse with unseen spirits, though his broad muscular form and rubicund face militated strongly against such a supposition; but no man, woman, or child living within a radius of ten miles would ever have fallen into this mistake. every one in the neighbourhood knew that "batushka" (papa), as he was familiarly called, was too prosaical, practical a man to see things ethereal, that he was an irrepressible talker, and that when he could not conveniently find an audience he created one by his own imagination. this peculiarity of his rendered me good service. though for some time i understood very little of what he said, and very often misplaced the positive and negative monosyllables which i hazarded occasionally by way of encouragement, he talked vigorously all the same. like all garrulous people, he was constantly repeating himself; but to this i did not object, for the custom--however disagreeable in ordinary society--was for me highly beneficial, and when i had already heard a story once or twice before, it was much easier for me to assume at the proper moment the requisite expression of countenance. another fortunate circumstance was that at ivanofka there were no distractions, so that the whole of the day and a great part of the night could be devoted to study. my chief amusement was an occasional walk in the fields with karl karl'itch; and even this mild form of dissipation could not always be obtained, for as soon as rain had fallen it was difficult to go beyond the verandah--the mud precluding the possibility of a constitutional. the nearest approach to excitement was mushroom-gathering; and in this occupation my inability to distinguish the edible from the poisonous species made my efforts unacceptable. we lived so "far from the madding crowd" that its din scarcely reached our ears. a week or ten days might pass without our receiving any intelligence from the outer world. the nearest post-office was in the district town, and with that distant point we had no regular system of communication. letters and newspapers remained there till called for, and were brought to us intermittently when some one of our neighbours happened to pass that way. current history was thus administered to us in big doses. one very big dose i remember well. for a much longer time than usual no volunteer letter-carrier had appeared, and the delay was more than usually tantalising, because it was known that war had broken out between france and germany. at last a big bundle of a daily paper called the golos was brought to me. impatient to learn whether any great battle had been fought, i began by examining the latest number, and stumbled at once on an article headed, "latest intelligence: the emperor at wilhelmshohe!!!" the large type in which the heading was printed and the three marks of exclamation showed plainly that the article was very important. i began to read with avidity, but was utterly mystified. what emperor was this? probably the tsar or the emperor of austria, for there was no german emperor in those days. but no! it was evidently the emperor of the french. and how did napoleon get to wilhelmshohe? the french must have broken through the rhine defences, and pushed far into germany. but no! as i read further, i found this theory equally untenable. it turned out that the emperor was surrounded by germans, and--a prisoner! in order to solve the mystery, i had to go back to the preceding numbers of the paper, and learned, at a sitting, all about the successive german victories, the defeat and capitulation of macmahon's army at sedan, and the other great events of that momentous time. the impression produced can scarcely be realised by those who have always imbibed current history in the homeopathic doses administered by the morning and evening daily papers. by the useful loquacity of my teacher and the possibility of devoting all my time to my linguistic studies, i made such rapid progress in the acquisition of the language that i was able after a few weeks to understand much of what was said to me, and to express myself in a vague, roundabout way. in the latter operation i was much assisted by a peculiar faculty of divination which the russians possess in a high degree. if a foreigner succeeds in expressing about one-fourth of an idea, the russian peasant can generally fill up the remaining three-fourths from his own intuition. as my powers of comprehension increased, my long conversations with the priest became more and more instructive. at first his remarks and stories had for me simply a philological interest, but gradually i perceived that his talk contained a great deal of solid, curious information regarding himself and the class to which he belonged--information of a kind not commonly found in grammatical exercises. some of this i now propose to communicate to the reader. chapter iv the village priest priests' names--clerical marriages--the white and the black clergy--why the people do not respect the parish priests--history of the white clergy--the parish priest and the protestant pastor--in what sense the russian people are religious--icons--the clergy and popular education--ecclesiastical reform--premonitory symptoms of change--two typical specimens of the parochial clergy of the present day. in formal introductions it is customary to pronounce in a more or less inaudible voice the names of the two persons introduced. circumstances compel me in the present case to depart from received custom. the truth is, i do not know the names of the two people whom i wish to bring together! the reader who knows his own name will readily pardon one-half of my ignorance, but he may naturally expect that i should know the name of a man with whom i profess to be acquainted, and with whom i daily held long conversations during a period of several months. strange as it may seem, i do not. during all the time of my sojourn in ivanofka i never heard him addressed or spoken of otherwise than as "batushka." now "batushka" is not a name at all. it is simply the diminutive form of an obsolete word meaning "father," and is usually applied to all village priests. the ushka is a common diminutive termination, and the root bat is evidently the same as that which appears in the latin pater. though i do not happen to know what batushka's family name was, i can communicate two curious facts concerning it: he had not possessed it in his childhood, and it was not the same as his father's. the reader whose intuitive powers have been preternaturally sharpened by a long course of sensation novels will probably leap to the conclusion that batushka was a mysterious individual, very different from what he seemed--either the illegitimate son of some great personage, or a man of high birth who had committed some great sin, and who now sought oblivion and expiation in the humble duties of a parish priest. let me dispel at once all delusions of this kind. batushka was actually as well as legally the legitimate son of an ordinary parish priest, who was still living, about twenty miles off, and for many generations all his paternal and maternal ancestors, male and female, had belonged to the priestly caste. he was thus a levite of the purest water, and thoroughly levitical in his character. though he knew by experience something about the weakness of the flesh, he had never committed any sins of the heroic kind, and had no reason to conceal his origin. the curious facts above stated were simply the result of a peculiar custom which exists among the russian clergy. according to this custom, when a boy enters the seminary he receives from the bishop a new family name. the name may be bogoslafski, from a word signifying "theology," or bogolubof, "the love of god," or some similar term; or it may be derived from the name of the boy's native village, or from any other word which the bishop thinks fit to choose. i know of one instance where a bishop chose two french words for the purpose. he had intended to call the boy velikoselski, after his native place, velikoe selo, which means "big village"; but finding that there was already a velikoselski in the seminary, and being in a facetious frame of mind, he called the new comer grandvillageski--a word that may perhaps sorely puzzle some philologist of the future. my reverend teacher was a tall, muscular man of about forty years of age, with a full dark-brown beard, and long lank hair falling over his shoulders. the visible parts of his dress consisted of three articles--a dingy-brown robe of coarse material buttoned closely at the neck and descending to the ground, a wideawake hat, and a pair of large, heavy boots. as to the esoteric parts of his attire, i refrained from making investigations. his life had been an uneventful one. at an early age he had been sent to the seminary in the chief town of the province, and had made for himself the reputation of a good average scholar. "the seminary of that time," he used to say to me, referring to that part of his life, "was not what it is now. nowadays the teachers talk about humanitarianism, and the boys would think that a crime had been committed against human dignity if one of them happened to be flogged. but they don't consider that human dignity is at all affected by their getting drunk, and going to--to--to places that i never went to. i was flogged often enough, and i don't think that i am a worse man on that account; and though i never heard then anything about pedagogical science that they talk so much about now, i'll read a bit of latin yet with the best of them. "when my studies were finished," said batushka, continuing the simple story of his life, "the bishop found a wife for me, and i succeeded her father, who was then an old man. in that way i became a priest of ivanofka, and have remained here ever since. it is a hard life, for the parish is big, and my bit of land is not very fertile; but, praise be to god! i am healthy and strong, and get on well enough." "you said that the bishop found a wife for you," i remarked. "i suppose, therefore, that he was a great friend of yours." "not at all. the bishop does the same for all the seminarists who wish to be ordained: it is an important part of his pastoral duties." "indeed!" i exclaimed in astonishment. "surely that is carrying the system of paternal government a little too far. why should his reverence meddle with things that don't concern him?" "but these matters do concern him. he is the natural protector of widows and orphans, especially among the clergy of his own diocese. when a parish priest dies, what is to become of his wife and daughters?" not perceiving clearly the exact bearing of these last remarks, i ventured to suggest that priests ought to economise in view of future contingencies. "it is easy to speak," replied batushka: "'a story is soon told,' as the old proverb has it, 'but a thing is not soon done.' how are we to economise? even without saving we have the greatest difficulty to make the two ends meet." "then the widow and daughters might work and gain a livelihood." "what, pray, could they work at?" asked batushka, and paused for a reply. seeing that i had none to offer him, he continued, "even the house and land belong not to them, but to the new priest." "if that position occurred in a novel," i said, "i could foretell what would happen. the author would make the new priest fall in love with and marry one of the daughters, and then the whole family, including the mother-in-law, would live happily ever afterwards." "that is exactly how the bishop arranges the matter. what the novelist does with the puppets of his imagination, the bishop does with real beings of flesh and blood. as a rational being he cannot leave things to chance. besides this, he must arrange the matter before the young man takes orders, because, by the rules of the church, the marriage cannot take place after the ceremony of ordination. when the affair is arranged before the charge becomes vacant, the old priest can die with the pleasant consciousness that his family is provided for." "well, batushka, you certainly put the matter in a very plausible way, but there seem to be two flaws in the analogy. the novelist can make two people fall in love with each other, and make them live happily together with the mother-in-law, but that--with all due respect to his reverence, be it said--is beyond the power of a bishop." "i am not sure," said batushka, avoiding the point of the objection, "that love-marriages are always the happiest ones; and as to the mother-in-law, there are--or at least there were until the emancipation of the serfs--a mother-in-law and several daughters-in-law in almost every peasant household." "and does harmony generally reign in peasant households?" "that depends upon the head of the house. if he is a man of the right sort, he can keep the women-folks in order." this remark was made in an energetic tone, with the evident intention of assuring me that the speaker was himself "a man of the right sort"; but i did not attribute much importance to it, for i have occasionally heard henpecked husbands talk in this grandiloquent way when their wives were out of hearing. altogether i was by no means convinced that the system of providing for the widows and orphans of the clergy by means of mariages de convenance was a good one, but i determined to suspend my judgment until i should obtain fuller information. an additional bit of evidence came to me a week or two later. one morning, on going into the priest's house, i found that he had a friend with him--the priest of a village some fifteen miles off. before we had got through the ordinary conventional remarks about the weather and the crops, a peasant drove up to the door in his cart with a message that an old peasant was dying in a neighbouring village, and desired the last consolations of religion. batushka was thus obliged to leave us, and his friend and i agreed to stroll leisurely in the direction of the village to which he was going, so as to meet him on his way home. the harvest was already finished, so that our road, after emerging from the village, lay through stubble-fields. beyond this we entered the pine forest, and by the time we had reached this point i had succeeded in leading the conversation to the subject of clerical marriages. "i have been thinking a good deal on this subject," i said, "and i should very much like to know your opinion about the system." my new acquaintance was a tall, lean, black-haired man, with a sallow complexion and vinegar aspect--evidently one of those unhappy mortals who are intended by nature to take a pessimistic view of all things, and to point out to their fellows the deep shadows of human life. i was not at all surprised, therefore, when he replied in a deep, decided tone, "bad, very bad--utterly bad!" the way in which these words were pronounced left no doubt as to the opinion of the speaker, but i was desirous of knowing on what that opinion was founded--more especially as i seemed to detect in the tone a note of personal grievance. my answer was shaped accordingly. "i suspected that; but in the discussions which i have had i have always been placed at a disadvantage, not being able to adduce any definite facts in support of my opinion." "you may congratulate yourself on being unable to find any in your own experience. a mother-in-law living in the house does not conduce to domestic harmony. i don't know how it is in your country, but so it is with us." i hastened to assure him that this was not a peculiarity of russia. "i know it only too well," he continued. "my mother-in-law lived with me for some years, and i was obliged at last to insist on her going to another son-in-law." "rather selfish conduct towards your brother-in-law," i said to myself, and then added audibly, "i hope you have thus solved the difficulty satisfactorily." "not at all. things are worse now than they were. i agreed to pay her three roubles a month, and have regularly fulfilled my promise, but lately she has thought it not enough, and she made a complaint to the bishop. last week i went to him to defend myself, but as i had not money enough for all the officials in the consistorium, i could not obtain justice. my mother-in-law had made all sorts of absurd accusations against me, and consequently i was laid under an inhibition for six weeks!" "and what is the effect of an inhibition?" "the effect is that i cannot perform the ordinary rites of our religion. it is really very unjust," he added, assuming an indignant tone, "and very annoying. think of all the hardship and inconvenience to which it gives rise." as i thought of the hardship and inconvenience to which the parishioners must be exposed through the inconsiderate conduct of the old mother-in-law, i could not but sympathise with my new acquaintance's indignation. my sympathy was, however, somewhat cooled when i perceived that i was on a wrong tack, and that the priest was looking at the matter from an entirely different point of view. "you see," he said, "it is a most unfortunate time of year. the peasants have gathered in their harvest, and can give of their abundance. there are merry-makings and marriages, besides the ordinary deaths and baptisms. altogether i shall lose by the thing more than a hundred roubles!" i confess i was a little shocked on hearing the priest thus speak of his sacred functions as if they were an ordinary marketable commodity, and talk of the inhibition as a pushing undertaker might talk of sanitary improvements. my surprise was caused not by the fact that he regarded the matter from a pecuniary point of view--for i was old enough to know that clerical human nature is not altogether insensible to pecuniary considerations--but by the fact that he should thus undisguisedly express his opinions to a stranger without in the least suspecting that there was anything unseemly in his way of speaking. the incident appeared to me very characteristic, but i refrained from all audible comments, lest i should inadvertently check his communicativeness. with the view of encouraging it, i professed to be very much interested, as i really was, in what he said, and i asked him how in his opinion the present unsatisfactory state of things might be remedied. "there is but one cure," he said, with a readiness that showed he had often spoken on the theme already, "and that is freedom and publicity. we full-grown men are treated like children, and watched like conspirators. if i wish to preach a sermon--not that i often wish to do such a thing, but there are occasions when it is advisable--i am expected to show it first to the blagotchinny, and--" "i beg your pardon, who is the blagotchinny?" "the blagotchinny is a parish priest who is in direct relations with the consistory of the province, and who is supposed to exercise a strict supervision over all the other parish priests of his district. he acts as the spy of the consistory, which is filled with greedy, shameless officials, deaf to any one who does not come provided with a handful of roubles. the bishop may be a good, well-intentioned man, but he always sees and acts through these worthless subordinates. besides this, the bishops and heads of monasteries, who monopolise the higher places in the ecclesiastical administration, all belong to the black clergy--that is to say, they are all monks--and consequently cannot understand our wants. how can they, on whom celibacy is imposed by the rules of the church, understand the position of a parish priest who has to bring up a family and to struggle with domestic cares of every kind? what they do is to take all the comfortable places for themselves, and leave us all the hard work. the monasteries are rich enough, and you see how poor we are. perhaps you have heard that the parish priests extort money from the peasants--refusing to perform the rites of baptism or burial until a considerable sum has been paid. it is only too true, but who is to blame? the priest must live and bring up his family, and you cannot imagine the humiliations to which he has to submit in order to gain a scanty pittance. i know it by experience. when i make the periodical visitation i can see that the peasants grudge every handful of rye and every egg that they give me. i can overbear their sneers as i go away, and i know they have many sayings such as--'the priest takes from the living and from the dead.' many of them fasten their doors, pretending to be away from home, and do not even take the precaution of keeping silent till i am out of hearing." "you surprise me," i said, in reply to the last part of this long tirade; "i have always heard that the russians are a very religious people--at least the lower classes." "so they are; but the peasantry are poor and heavily taxed. they set great importance on the sacraments, and observe rigorously the fasts, which comprise nearly a half of the year; but they show very little respect for their priests, who are almost as poor as themselves." "but i do not see clearly how you propose to remedy this state of things." "by freedom and publicity, as i said before." the worthy man seemed to have learned this formula by rote. "first of all, our wants must be made known. in some provinces there have been attempts to do this by means of provincial assemblies of the clergy, but these efforts have always been strenuously opposed by the consistories, whose members fear publicity above all things. but in order to have publicity we must have more freedom." here followed a long discourse on freedom and publicity, which seemed to me very confused. so far as i could understand the argument, there was a good deal of reasoning in a circle. freedom was necessary in order to get publicity, and publicity was necessary in order to get freedom; and the practical result would be that the clergy would enjoy bigger salaries and more popular respect. we had only got thus far in the investigation of the subject when our conversation was interrupted by the rumbling of a peasant's cart. in a few seconds our friend batushka appeared, and the conversation took a different turn. since that time i have frequently spoken on this subject with competent authorities, and nearly all have admitted that the present condition of the clergy is highly unsatisfactory, and that the parish priest rarely enjoys the respect of his parishioners. in a semi-official report, which i once accidentally stumbled upon when searching for material of a different kind, the facts are stated in the following plain language: "the people"--i seek to translate as literally as possible--"do not respect the clergy, but persecute them with derision and reproaches, and feel them to be a burden. in nearly all the popular comic stories the priest, his wife, or his labourer is held up to ridicule, and in all the proverbs and popular sayings where the clergy are mentioned it is always with derision. the people shun the clergy, and have recourse to them not from the inner impulse of conscience, but from necessity. . . . and why do the people not respect the clergy? because it forms a class apart; because, having received a false kind of education, it does not introduce into the life of the people the teaching of the spirit, but remains in the mere dead forms of outward ceremonial, at the same time despising these forms even to blasphemy; because the clergy itself continually presents examples of want of respect to religion, and transforms the service of god into a profitable trade. can the people respect the clergy when they hear how one priest stole money from below the pillow of a dying man at the moment of confession, how another was publicly dragged out of a house of ill-fame, how a third christened a dog, how a fourth whilst officiating at the easter service was dragged by the hair from the altar by the deacon? is it possible for the people to respect priests who spend their time in the gin-shop, write fraudulent petitions, fight with the cross in their hands, and abuse each other in bad language at the altar? "one might fill several pages with examples of this kind--in each instance naming the time and place--without overstepping the boundaries of the province of nizhni-novgorod. is it possible for the people to respect the clergy when they see everywhere amongst them simony, carelessness in performing the religious rites, and disorder in administering the sacraments? is it possible for the people to respect the clergy when they see that truth has disappeared from it, and that the consistories, guided in their decisions not by rules, but by personal friendship and bribery, destroy in it the last remains of truthfulness? if we add to all this the false certificates which the clergy give to those who do not wish to partake of the eucharist, the dues illegally extracted from the old ritualists, the conversion of the altar into a source of revenue, the giving of churches to priests' daughters as a dowry, and similar phenomena, the question as to whether the people can respect the clergy requires no answer." as these words were written by an orthodox russian,* celebrated for his extensive and intimate knowledge of russian provincial life, and were addressed in all seriousness to a member of the imperial family, we may safely assume that they contain a considerable amount of truth. the reader must not, however, imagine that all russian priests are of the kind above referred to. many of them are honest, respectable, well-intentioned men, who conscientiously fulfil their humble duties, and strive hard to procure a good education for their children. if they have less learning, culture, and refinement than the roman catholic priesthood, they have at the same time infinitely less fanaticism, less spiritual pride, and less intolerance towards the adherents of other faiths. * mr. melnikof, in a "secret" report to the grand duke constantine nikolaievitch. both the good and the bad qualities of the russian priesthood at the present time can be easily explained by its past history, and by certain peculiarities of the national character. the russian white clergy--that is to say, the parish priests, as distinguished from the monks, who are called the black clergy--have had a curious history. in primitive times they were drawn from all classes of the population, and freely elected by the parishioners. when a man was elected by the popular vote, he was presented to the bishop, and if he was found to be a fit and proper person for the office, he was at once ordained. but this custom early fell into disuse. the bishops, finding that many of the candidates presented were illiterate peasants, gradually assumed the right of appointing the priests, with or without the consent of the parishioners; and their choice generally fell on the sons of the clergy as the men best fitted to take orders. the creation of bishops' schools, afterwards called seminaries, in which the sons of the clergy were educated, naturally led, in the course of time, to the total exclusion of the other classes. the policy of the civil government led to the same end. peter the great laid down the principle that every subject should in some way serve the state--the nobles as officers in the army or navy, or as officials in the civil service; the clergy as ministers of religion; and the lower classes as soldiers, sailors, or tax-payers. of these three classes the clergy had by far the lightest burdens, and consequently many nobles and peasants would willingly have entered its ranks. but this species of desertion the government could not tolerate, and accordingly the priesthood was surrounded by a legal barrier which prevented all outsiders from entering it. thus by the combined efforts of the ecclesiastical and the civil administration the clergy became a separate class or caste, legally and actually incapable of mingling with the other classes of the population. the simple fact that the clergy became an exclusive caste, with a peculiar character, peculiar habits, and peculiar ideals, would in itself have had a prejudicial influence on the priesthood; but this was not all. the caste increased in numbers by the process of natural reproduction much more rapidly than the offices to be filled, so that the supply of priests and deacons soon far exceeded the demand; and the disproportion between supply and demand became every year greater and greater. in this way was formed an ever-increasing clerical proletariat, which--as is always the case with a proletariat of any kind--gravitated towards the towns. in vain the government issued ukazes prohibiting the priests from quitting their places of domicile, and treated as vagrants and runaways those who disregarded the prohibition; in vain successive sovereigns endeavoured to diminish the number of these supernumeraries by drafting them wholesale into the army. in moscow, st. petersburg, and all the larger towns the cry was, "still they come!" every morning, in the kremlin of moscow, a large crowd of them assembled for the purpose of being hired to officiate in the private chapels of the rich nobles, and a great deal of hard bargaining took place between the priests and the lackeys sent to hire them--conducted in the same spirit, and in nearly the same forms, as that which simultaneously took place in the bazaar close by between extortionate traders and thrifty housewives. "listen to me," a priest would say, as an ultimatum, to a lackey who was trying to beat down the price: "if you don't give me seventy-five kopeks without further ado, i'll take a bite of this roll, and that will be an end to it!" and that would have been an end to the bargaining, for, according to the rules of the church, a priest cannot officiate after breaking his fast. the ultimatum, however, could be used with effect only to country servants who had recently come to town. a sharp lackey, experienced in this kind of diplomacy, would have laughed at the threat, and replied coolly, "bite away, batushka; i can find plenty more of your sort!" amusing scenes of this kind i have heard described by old people who professed to have been eye-witnesses. the condition of the priests who remained in the villages was not much better. those of them who were fortunate enough to find places were raised at least above the fear of absolute destitution, but their position was by no means enviable. they received little consideration or respect from the peasantry, and still less from the nobles. when the church was situated not on the state domains, but on a private estate, they were practically under the power of the proprietor--almost as completely as his serfs; and sometimes that power was exercised in a most humiliating and shameful way. i have heard, for instance, of one priest who was ducked in a pond on a cold winter day for the amusement of the proprietor and his guests--choice spirits, of rough, jovial temperament; and of another who, having neglected to take off his hat as he passed the proprietor's house, was put into a barrel and rolled down a hill into the river at the bottom! in citing these incidents, i do not at all mean to imply that they represent the relations which usually existed between proprietors and village priests, for i am quite aware that wanton cruelty was not among the ordinary vices of russian serf-owners. my object in mentioning the incidents is to show how a brutal proprietor--and it must be admitted that they were not a few brutal individuals in the class--could maltreat a priest without much danger of being called to account for his conduct. of course such conduct was an offence in the eyes of the criminal law; but the criminal law of that time was very shortsighted, and strongly disposed to close its eyes completely when the offender was an influential proprietor. had the incidents reached the ears of the emperor nicholas he would probably have ordered the culprit to be summarily and severely punished but, as the russian proverb has it, "heaven is high, and the tsar is far off." a village priest treated in this barbarous way could have little hope of redress, and, if he were a prudent man, he would make no attempt to obtain it; for any annoyance which he might give the proprietor by complaining to the ecclesiastical authorities would be sure to be paid back to him with interest in some indirect way. the sons of the clergy who did not succeed in finding regular sacerdotal employment were in a still worse position. many of them served as scribes or subordinate officials in the public offices, where they commonly eked out their scanty salaries by unblushing extortion and pilfering. those who did not succeed in gaining even modest employment of this kind had to keep off starvation by less lawful means, and not unfrequently found their way into the prisons or to siberia. in judging of the russian priesthood of the present time, we must call to mind this severe school through which it has passed, and we must also take into consideration the spirit which has been for centuries predominant in the eastern church--i mean the strong tendency both in the clergy and in the laity to attribute an inordinate importance to the ceremonial element of religion. primitive mankind is everywhere and always disposed to regard religion as simply a mass of mysterious rites which have a secret magical power of averting evil in this world and securing felicity in the next. to this general rule the russian peasantry are no exception, and the russian church has not done all it might have done to eradicate this conception and to bring religion into closer association with ordinary morality. hence such incidents as the following are still possible: a robber kills and rifles a traveller, but he refrains from eating a piece of cooked meat which he finds in the cart, because it happens to be a fast-day; a peasant prepares to rob a young attache of the austrian embassy in st. petersburg, and ultimately kills his victim, but before going to the house he enters a church and commends his undertaking to the protection of the saints; a housebreaker, when in the act of robbing a church, finds it difficult to extract the jewels from an icon, and makes a vow that if a certain saint assists him he will place a rouble's-worth of tapers before the saint's image! these facts are within the memory of the present generation. i knew the young attache, and saw him a few days before his death. all these are of course extreme cases, but they illustrate a tendency which in its milder forms is only too general amongst the russian people--the tendency to regard religion as a mass of ceremonies which have a magical rather than a spiritual significance. the poor woman who kneels at a religious procession in order that the icon may be carried over her head, and the rich merchant who invites the priests to bring some famous icon to his house, illustrates this tendency in a more harmless form. according to a popular saying, "as is the priest, so is the parish," and the converse proposition is equally true--as is the parish, so is the priest. the great majority of priests, like the great majority of men in general, content themselves with simply striving to perform what is expected of them, and their character is consequently determined to a certain extent by the ideas and conceptions of their parishioners. this will become more apparent if we contrast the russian priest with the protestant pastor. according to protestant conceptions, the village pastor is a man of grave demeanour and exemplary conduct, and possesses a certain amount of education and refinement. he ought to expound weekly to his flock, in simple, impressive words, the great truths of christianity, and exhort his hearers to walk in the paths of righteousness. besides this, he is expected to comfort the afflicted, to assist the needy, to counsel those who are harassed with doubts, and to admonish those who openly stray from the narrow path. such is the ideal in the popular mind, and pastors generally seek to realise it, if not in very deed, at least in appearance. the russian priest, on the contrary, has no such ideal set before him by his parishioners. he is expected merely to conform to certain observances, and to perform punctiliously the rites and ceremonies prescribed by the church. if he does this without practising extortion his parishioners are quite satisfied. he rarely preaches or exhorts, and neither has nor seeks to have a moral influence over his flock. i have occasionally heard of russian priests who approach to what i have termed the protestant ideal, and i have even seen one or two of them, but i fear they are not numerous. in the above contrast i have accidentally omitted one important feature. the protestant clergy have in all countries rendered valuable service to the cause of popular education. the reason of this is not difficult to find. in order to be a good protestant it is necessary to "search the scriptures," and to do this, one must be able at least to read. to be a good member of the greek orthodox church, on the contrary, according to popular conceptions, the reading of the scriptures is not necessary, and therefore primary education has not in the eyes of the greek orthodox priest the same importance which it has in the eyes of the protestant pastor. it must be admitted that the russian people are in a certain sense religions. they go regularly to church on sundays and holy-days, cross themselves repeatedly when they pass a church or icon, take the holy communion at stated seasons, rigorously abstain from animal food--not only on wednesdays and fridays, but also during lent and the other long fasts--make occasional pilgrimages to holy shrines, and, in a word, fulfil punctiliously the ceremonial observances which they suppose necessary for salvation. but here their religiousness ends. they are generally profoundly ignorant of religious doctrine, and know little or nothing of holy writ. a peasant, it is said, was once asked by a priest if he could name the three persons of the trinity, and replied without a moment's hesitation, "how can one not know that, batushka? of course it is the saviour, the mother of god, and saint nicholas the miracle-worker!" that answer represents fairly enough the theological attainments of a very large section of the peasantry. the anecdote is so often repeated that it is probably an invention, but it is not a calumny of theology and of what protestants term the "inner religious life" the orthodox russian peasant--of dissenters, to whom these remarks do not apply, i shall speak later--has no conception. for him the ceremonial part of religion suffices, and he has the most unbounded, childlike confidence in the saving efficacy of the rites which he practises. if he has been baptised in infancy, has regularly observed the fasts, has annually partaken of the holy communion, and has just confessed and received extreme unction, he feels death approach with the most perfect tranquillity. he is tormented with no doubts as to the efficacy of faith or works, and has no fears that his past life may possibly have rendered him unfit for eternal felicity. like a man in a sinking ship who has buckled on his life-preserver, he feels perfectly secure. with no fear for the future and little regret for the present or the past, he awaits calmly the dread summons, and dies with a resignation which a stoic philosopher might envy. in the above paragraph i have used the word icon, and perhaps the reader may not clearly understand the word. let me explain then, briefly, what an icon is--a very necessary explanation, for the icons play an important part in the religious observances of the russian people. icons are pictorial, usually half-length, representations of the saviour, of the madonna, or of a saint, executed in archaic byzantine style, on a yellow or gold ground, and varying in size from a square inch to several square feet. very often the whole picture, with the exception of the face and hands of the figure, is covered with a metal plaque, embossed so as to represent the form of the figure and the drapery. when this plaque is not used, the crown and costume are often adorned with pearls and other precious stones--sometimes of great price. in respect of religions significance, icons are of two kinds: simple, and miraculous or miracle-working (tchudotvorny). the former are manufactured in enormous quantities--chiefly in the province of vladimir, where whole villages are employed in this kind of work--and are to be found in every russian house, from the hut of the peasant to the palace of the emperor. they are generally placed high up in a corner facing the door, and good orthodox christians on entering bow in that direction, making at the same time the sign of the cross. before and after meals the same short ceremony is always performed. on the eve of fete-days a small lamp is kept burning before at least one of the icons in the house. the wonder-working icons are comparatively few in number, and are always carefully preserved in a church or chapel. they are commonly believed to have been "not made with hands," and to have appeared in a miraculous way. a monk, or it may be a common mortal, has a vision, in which he is informed that he may find a miraculous icon in such a place, and on going to the spot indicated he finds it, sometimes buried, sometimes hanging on a tree. the sacred treasure is then removed to a church, and the news spreads like wildfire through the district. thousands flock to prostrate themselves before the heaven-sent picture, and some are healed of their diseases--a fact that plainly indicates its miracle-working power. the whole affair is then officially reported to the most holy synod, the highest ecclesiastical authority in russia, in order that the existence of the miracle-working power may be fully and regularly proved. the official recognition of the fact is by no means a mere matter of form, for the synod is well aware that wonder-working icons are always a rich source of revenue to the monasteries where they are kept, and that zealous superiors are consequently apt in such cases to lean to the side of credulity, rather than that of over-severe criticism. a regular investigation is therefore made, and the formal recognition is not granted till the testimony of the finder is thoroughly examined and the alleged miracles duly authenticated. if the recognition is granted, the icon is treated with the greatest veneration, and is sure to be visited by pilgrims from far and near. some of the most revered icons--as, for instance, the kazan madonna--have annual fete-days instituted in their honour; or, more correctly speaking, the anniversary of their miraculous appearance is observed as a religions holiday. a few of them have an additional title to popular respect and veneration: that of being intimately associated with great events in the national history. the vladimir madonna, for example, once saved moscow from the tartars; the smolensk madonna accompanied the army in the glorious campaign against napoleon in ; and when in that year it was known in moscow that the french were advancing on the city, the people wished the metropolitan to take the iberian madonna, which may still be seen near one of the gates of the kremlin, and to lead them out armed with hatchets against the enemy. if the russian priests have done little to advance popular education, they have at least never intentionally opposed it. unlike their roman catholic brethren, they do not hold that "a little learning is a dangerous thing," and do not fear that faith may be endangered by knowledge. indeed, it is a remarkable fact that the russian church regards with profound apathy those various intellectual movements which cause serious alarm to many thoughtful christians in western europe. it considers religion as something so entirely apart that its votaries do not feel the necessity of bringing their theological beliefs into logical harmony with their scientific conceptions. a man may remain a good orthodox christian long after he has adopted scientific opinions irreconcilable with eastern orthodoxy, or, indeed, with dogmatic christianity of any kind. in the confessional the priest never seeks to ferret out heretical opinions; and i can recall no instance in russian history of a man being burnt at the stake on the demand of the ecclesiastical authorities, as so often happened in the roman catholic world, for his scientific views. this tolerance proceeds partly, no doubt, from the fact that the eastern church in general, and the russian church in particular, have remained for centuries in a kind of intellectual torpor. even such a fervent orthodox christian as the late ivan aksakof perceived this absence of healthy vitality, and he did not hesitate to declare his conviction that, "neither the russian nor the slavonic world will be resuscitated . . . so long as the church remains in such lifelessness (mertvennost'), which is not a matter of chance, but the legitimate fruit of some organic defect."* * solovyoff, "otcherki ig istorii russkoi literaturi xix. veka." st. petersburg, , p. . though the unsatisfactory condition of the parochial clergy is generally recognised by the educated classes, very few people take the trouble to consider seriously how it might be improved. during the reform enthusiasm which raged for some years after the crimean war ecclesiastical affairs were entirely overlooked. many of the reformers of those days were so very "advanced" that religion in all its forms seemed to them an old-world superstition which tended to retard rather than accelerate social progress, and which consequently should be allowed to die as tranquilly as possible; whilst the men of more moderate views found they had enough to do in emancipating the serfs and reforming the corrupt civil and judicial administration. during the subsequent reactionary period, which culminated in the reign of the late emperor, alexander iii., much more attention was devoted to church matters, and it came to be recognised in official circles that something ought to be done for the parish clergy in the way of improving their material condition so as to increase their moral influence. with this object in view, m. pobedonostsef, the procurator of the holy synod, induced the government in to make a state-grant of about , , roubles, which should be increased every year, but the sum was very inadequate, and a large portion of it was devoted to purposes of political propaganda in the form of maintaining greek orthodox priests in districts where the population was protestant or roman catholic. consequently, of the , parishes which russia contains, only , , or a little more than one-half, were enabled to benefit by the grant. in an optimistic, semi-official statement published as late as it is admitted that "the means for the support of the parish clergy must even now be considered insufficient and wanting in stability, making the priests dependent on the parishioners, and thereby preventing the establishment of the necessary moral authority of the spiritual father over his flock." in some places the needs of the church are attended to by voluntary parish-curatorships which annually raise a certain sum of money, and the way in which they distribute it is very characteristic of the russian people, who have a profound veneration for the church and its rites, but very little consideration for the human beings who serve at the altar. in , parishes possessing such curatorships no less than , , roubles were collected, but of this sum , , were expended on the maintenance and embellishment of churches, and only , were devoted to the personal wants of the clergy. according to the semi-official document from which these figures are taken the whole body of the russian white clergy in numbered , , of whom , were priests, , deacons, and , clerks. in more recent observations among the parochial clergy i have noticed premonitory symptoms of important changes. this may be illustrated by an entry in my note-book, written in a village of one of the southern provinces, under date of th september, : "i have made here the acquaintance of two good specimens of the parish clergy, both excellent men in their way, but very different from each other. the elder one, father dmitri, is of the old school, a plain, practical man, who fulfils his duties conscientiously according to his lights, but without enthusiasm. his intellectual wants are very limited, and he devotes his attention chiefly to the practical affairs of everyday life, which he manages very successfully. he does not squeeze his parishioners unduly, but he considers that the labourer is worthy of his hire, and insists on his flock providing for his wants according to their means. at the same time he farms on his own account and attends personally to all the details of his farming operations. with the condition and doings of every member of his flock he is intimately acquainted, and, on the whole, as he never idealised anything or anybody, he has not a very high opinion of them. "the younger priest, father alexander, is of a different type, and the difference may be remarked even in his external appearance. there is a look of delicacy and refinement about him, though his dress and domestic surroundings are of the plainest, and there is not a tinge of affectation in his manner. his language is less archaic and picturesque. he uses fewer biblical and semi-slavonic expressions--i mean expressions which belong to the antiquated language of the church service rather than to modern parlance--and his armoury of terse popular proverbs which constitute such a characteristic trait of the peasantry, is less frequently drawn on. when i ask him about the present condition of the peasantry, his account does not differ substantially from that of his elder colleague, but he does not condemn their sins in the same forcible terms. he laments their shortcomings in an evangelical spirit and has apparently aspirations for their future improvement. admitting frankly that there is a great deal of lukewarmness among them, he hopes to revive their interest in ecclesiastical affairs and he has an idea of constituting a sort of church committee for attending to the temporal affairs of the village church and for works of charity, but he looks to influencing the younger rather than the older generation. "his interest in his parishioners is not confined to their spiritual welfare, but extends to their material well-being. of late an association for mutual credit has been founded in the village, and he uses his influence to induce the peasants to take advantage of the benefits it offers, both to those who are in need of a little ready money and to those who might invest their savings, instead of keeping them hidden away in an old stocking or buried in an earthen pot. the proposal to create a local agricultural society meets also with his sympathy." if the number of parish priests of this type increase, the clergy may come to exercise great moral influence on the common people. chapter v a medical consultation unexpected illness--a village doctor--siberian plague--my studies--russian historians--a russian imitator of dickens--a ci-devant domestic serf--medicine and witchcraft--a remnant of paganism--credulity of the peasantry--absurd rumours--a mysterious visit from st. barbara--cholera on board a steamer--hospitals--lunatic asylums--amongst maniacs. in enumerating the requisites for travelling in the less frequented parts of russia, i omitted to mention one important condition: the traveller should be always in good health, and in case of illness be ready to dispense with regular medical attendance. this i learned by experience during my stay at ivanofka. a man who is accustomed to be always well, and has consequently cause to believe himself exempt from the ordinary ills that flesh is heir to, naturally feels aggrieved--as if some one had inflicted upon him an undeserved injury--when he suddenly finds himself ill. at first he refuses to believe the fact, and, as far as possible, takes no notice of the disagreeable symptoms. such was my state of mind on being awakened early one morning by peculiar symptoms which i had never before experienced. unwilling to admit to myself the possibility of being ill, i got up, and endeavoured to dress as usual, but very soon discovered that i was unable to stand. there was no denying the fact; not only was i ill, but the malady, whatever it was, surpassed my powers of diagnosis; and when the symptoms increased steadily all that day and the following night, i was constrained to take the humiliating decision of asking for medical advice. to my inquiries whether there was a doctor in the neighbourhood, the old servant replied, "there is not exactly a doctor, but there is a feldsher in the village." "and what is a feldsher?" "a feldsher is . . . . is a feldsher." "i am quite aware of that, but i would like to know what you mean by the word. what is this feldsher?" "he's an old soldier who dresses wounds and gives physic." the definition did not predispose me in favour of the mysterious personage, but as there was nothing better to be had i ordered him to be sent for, notwithstanding the strenuous opposition of the old servant, who evidently did not believe in feldshers. in about half an hour a tall, broad-shouldered man entered, and stood bolt upright in the middle of the room in the attitude which is designated in military language by the word "attention." his clean-shaven chin, long moustache, and closely-cropped hair confirmed one part of the old servant's definition; he was unmistakably an old soldier. "you are a feldsher," i said, making use of the word which i had recently added to my vocabulary. "exactly so, your nobility!" these words, the ordinary form of affirmation used by soldiers to their officers, were pronounced in a loud, metallic, monotonous tone, as if the speaker had been an automaton conversing with a brother automaton at a distance of twenty yards. as soon as the words were pronounced the mouth of the machine closed spasmodically, and the head, which had been momentarily turned towards me, reverted to its former position with a jerk as if it had received the order "eyes front!" "then please to sit down here, and i'll tell you about my ailment." upon this the figure took three paces to the front, wheeled to the right-about, and sat down on the edge of the chair, retaining the position of "attention" as nearly as the sitting posture would allow. when the symptoms had been carefully described, he knitted his brows, and after some reflection remarked, "i can give you a dose of . . . ." here followed a long word which i did not understand. "i don't wish you to give me a dose of anything till i know what is the matter with me. though a bit of a doctor myself, i have no idea what it is, and, pardon me, i think you are in the same position." noticing a look of ruffled professional dignity on his face, i added, as a sedative, "it is evidently something very peculiar, so that if the first medical practitioner in the country were present he would probably be as much puzzled as ourselves." the sedative had the desired effect. "well, sir, to tell you the truth," he said, in a more human tone of voice, "i do not clearly understand what it is." "exactly; and therefore i think we had better leave the cure to nature, and not interfere with her mode of treatment." "perhaps it would be better." "no doubt. and now, since i have to lie here on my back, and feel rather lonely, i should like to have a talk with you. you are not in a hurry, i hope?" "not at all. my assistant knows where i am, and will send for me if i am required." "so you have an assistant, have you?" "oh, yes; a very sharp young fellow, who has been two years in the feldsher school, and has now come here to help me and learn more by practice. that is a new way. i never was at a school of the kind myself, and had to pick up what i could when a servant in the hospital. there were, i believe, no such schools in my time. the one where my assistant learned was opened by the zemstvo." "the zemstvo is the new local administration, is it not?" "exactly so. and i could not do without the assistant," continued my new acquaintance, gradually losing his rigidity, and showing himself, what he really was, a kindly, talkative man. "i have often to go to other villages, and almost every day a number of peasants come here. at first i had very little to do, for the people thought i was an official, and would make them pay dearly for what i should give them; but now they know that they don't require to pay, and come in great numbers. and everything i give them--though sometimes i don't clearly understand what the matter is--seems to do them good. i believe that faith does as much as physic." "in my country," i remarked, "there is a sect of doctors who get the benefit of that principle. they give their patients two or three little balls no bigger than a pin's head, or a few drops of tasteless liquid, and they sometimes work wonderful cures." "that system would not do for us. the russian muzhik would have no faith if he swallowed merely things of that kind. what he believes in is something with a very bad taste, and lots of it. that is his idea of a medicine; and he thinks that the more he takes of a medicine the better chance he has of getting well. when i wish to give a peasant several doses i make him come for each separate dose, for i know that if i did not he would probably swallow the whole as soon as he was out of sight. but there is not much serious disease here--not like what i used to see on the sheksna. you have been on the sheksna?" "not yet, but i intend going there." the sheksna is a river which falls into the volga, and forms part of the great system of water-communication connecting the volga with the neva. "when you go there you will see lots of diseases. if there is a hot summer, and plenty of barges passing, something is sure to break out--typhus, or black small-pox, or siberian plague, or something of the kind. that siberian plague is a curious thing. whether it really comes from siberia, god only knows. so soon as it breaks out the horses die by dozens, and sometimes men and women are attacked, though it is not properly a human disease. they say that flies carry the poison from the dead horses to the people. the sign of it is a thing like a boil, with a dark-coloured rim. if this is cut open in time the person may recover, but if it is not, the person dies. there is cholera, too, sometimes." "what a delightful country," i said to myself, "for a young doctor who wishes to make discoveries in the science of disease!" the catalogue of diseases inhabiting this favoured region was apparently not yet complete, but it was cut short for the moment by the arrival of the assistant, with the announcement that his superior was wanted. this first interview with the feldsher was, on the whole, satisfactory. he had not rendered me any medical assistance, but he had helped me to pass an hour pleasantly, and had given me a little information of the kind i desired. my later interviews with him were equally agreeable. he was naturally an intelligent, observant man, who had seen a great deal of the russian world, and could describe graphically what he had seen. unfortunately the horizontal position to which i was condemned prevented me from noting down at the time the interesting things which he related to me. his visits, together with those of karl karl'itch and of the priest, who kindly spent a great part of his time with me, helped me to while away many an hour which would otherwise have been dreary enough. during the intervals when i was alone i devoted myself to reading--sometimes russian history and sometimes works of fiction. the history was that of karamzin, who may fairly be called the russian livy. it interested me much by the facts which it contained, but irritated me not a little by the rhetorical style in which it is written. afterwards, when i had waded through some twenty volumes of the gigantic work of solovyoff--or solovief, as the name is sometimes unphonetically written--which is simply a vast collection of valuable but undigested material, i was much less severe on the picturesque descriptions and ornate style of his illustrious predecessor. the first work of fiction which i read was a collection of tales by grigorovitch, which had been given to me by the author on my departure from st. petersburg. these tales, descriptive of rural life in russia, had been written, as the author afterwards admitted to me, under the influence of dickens. many of the little tricks and affectations which became painfully obtrusive in dickens's later works i had no difficulty in recognising under their russian garb. in spite of these i found the book very pleasant reading, and received from it some new notions--to be afterwards verified, of course--about russian peasant life. one of these tales made a deep impression upon me, and i still remember the chief incidents. the story opens with the description of a village in late autumn. it has been raining for some time heavily, and the road has become covered with a deep layer of black mud. an old woman--a small proprietor--is sitting at home with a friend, drinking tea and trying to read the future by means of a pack of cards. this occupation is suddenly interrupted by the entrance of a female servant, who announces that she has discovered an old man, apparently very ill, lying in one of the outhouses. the old woman goes out to see her uninvited guest, and, being of a kindly nature, prepares to have him removed to a more comfortable place, and properly attended to; but her servant whispers to her that perhaps he is a vagrant, and the generous impulse is thereby checked. when it is discovered that the suspicion is only too well founded, and that the man has no passport, the old woman becomes thoroughly alarmed. her imagination pictures to her the terrible consequences that would ensue if the police should discover that she had harboured a vagrant. all her little fortune might be extorted from her. and if the old man should happen to die in her house or farmyard! the consequences in that case might be very serious. not only might she lose everything, but she might even be dragged to prison. at the sight of these dangers the old woman forgets her tender-heartedness, and becomes inexorable. the old man, sick unto death though he be, must leave the premises instantly. knowing full well that he will nowhere find a refuge, he walks forth into the cold, dark, stormy night, and next morning a dead body is found at a short distance from the village. why this story, which was not strikingly remarkable for artistic merit, impressed me so deeply i cannot say. perhaps it was because i was myself ill at the time, and imagined how terrible it would be to be turned out on the muddy road on a cold, wet october night. besides this, the story interested me as illustrating the terror which the police inspired during the reign of nicholas i. the ingenious devices which they employed for extorting money formed the subject of another sketch, which i read shortly afterwards, and which has likewise remained in my memory. the facts were as follows: an officer of rural police, when driving on a country road, finds a dead body by the wayside. congratulating himself on this bit of good luck, he proceeds to the nearest village, and lets the inhabitants know that all manner of legal proceedings will be taken against them, so that the supposed murderer may be discovered. the peasants are of course frightened, and give him a considerable sum of money in order that he may hush up the affair. an ordinary officer of police would have been quite satisfied with this ransom, but this officer is not an ordinary man, and is very much in need of money; he conceives, therefore, the brilliant idea of repeating the experiment. taking up the dead body, he takes it away in his tarantass, and a few hours later declares to the inhabitants of a village some miles off that some of them have been guilty of murder, and that he intends to investigate the matter thoroughly. the peasants of course pay liberally in order to escape the investigation, and the rascally officer, emboldened by success, repeats the trick in different villages until he has gathered a large sum. tales and sketches of this kind were very much in fashion during the years which followed the death of the great autocrat, nicholas i., when the long-pent-up indignation against his severe, repressive regime was suddenly allowed free expression, and they were still much read during the first years of my stay in the country. now the public taste has changed. the reform enthusiast has evaporated, and the existing administrative abuses, more refined and less comical than their predecessors, receive comparatively little attention from the satirists. when i did not feel disposed to read, and had none of my regular visitors with me, i sometimes spent an hour or two in talking with the old man-servant who attended me. anton was decidedly an old man, but what his age precisely was i never could discover; either he did not know himself, or he did not wish to tell me. in appearance he seemed about sixty, but from certain remarks which he made i concluded that he must be nearer seventy, though he had scarcely a grey hair on his head. as to who his father was he seemed, like the famous topsy, to have no very clear ideas, but he had an advantage over topsy with regard to his maternal ancestry. his mother had been a serf who had fulfilled for some time the functions of a lady's maid, and after the death of her mistress had been promoted to a not very clearly defined position of responsibility in the household. anton, too, had been promoted in his time. his first function in the household had been that of assistant-keeper of the tobacco-pipes, from which humble office he had gradually risen to a position which may be roughly designated as that of butler. all this time he had been, of course, a serf, as his mother had been before him; but being naturally a man of sluggish intellect, he had never thoroughly realised the fact, and had certainly never conceived the possibility of being anything different from what he was. his master was master, and he himself was anton, obliged to obey his master, or at least conceal disobedience--these were long the main facts in his conception of the universe, and, as philosophers generally do with regard to fundamental facts or axioms, he had accepted them without examination. by means of these simple postulates he had led a tranquil life, untroubled by doubts, until the year , when the so-called freedom was brought to ivanofka. he himself had not gone to the church to hear batushka read the tsar's manifesto, but his master, on returning from the ceremony, had called him and said, "anton, you are free now, but the tsar says you are to serve as you have done for two years longer." to this startling announcement anton had replied coolly, "slushayus," or, as we would say, "yes, sir," and without further comment had gone to fetch his master's breakfast; but what he saw and heard during the next few weeks greatly troubled his old conceptions of human society and the fitness of things. from that time must be dated, i suppose, the expression of mental confusion which his face habitually wore. the first thing that roused his indignation was the conduct of his fellow-servants. nearly all the unmarried ones seemed to be suddenly attacked by a peculiar matrimonial mania. the reason of this was that the new law expressly gave permission to the emancipated serfs to marry as they chose without the consent of their masters, and nearly all the unmarried adults hastened to take advantage of their newly-acquired privilege, though many of them had great difficulty in raising the capital necessary to pay the priest's fees. then came disorders among the peasantry, the death of the old master, and the removal of the family first to st. petersburg, and afterwards to germany. anton's mind had never been of a very powerful order, and these great events had exercised a deleterious influence upon it. when karl karl'itch, at the expiry of the two years, informed him that he might now go where he chose, he replied, with a look of blank, unfeigned astonishment, "where can i go to?" he had never conceived the possibility of being forced to earn his bread in some new way, and begged karl karl'itch to let him remain where he was. this request was readily granted, for anton was an honest, faithful servant, and sincerely attached to the family, and it was accordingly arranged that he should receive a small monthly salary, and occupy an intermediate position between those of major-domo and head watch-dog. had anton been transformed into a real watch-dog he could scarcely have slept more than he did. his power of sleeping, and his somnolence when he imagined he was awake, were his two most prominent characteristics. out of consideration for his years and his love of repose, i troubled him as little as possible; but even the small amount of service which i demanded he contrived to curtail in an ingenious way. the time and exertion required for traversing the intervening space between his own room and mine might, he thought, be more profitably employed; and accordingly he extemporised a bed in a small ante-chamber, close to my door, and took up there his permanent abode. if sonorous snoring be sufficient proof that the performer is asleep, then i must conclude that anton devoted about three-fourths of his time to sleeping and a large part of the remaining fourth to yawning and elongated guttural ejaculations. at first this little arrangement considerably annoyed me, but i bore it patiently, and afterwards received my reward, for during my illness i found it very convenient to have an attendant within call. and i must do anton the justice to say that he served me well in his own somnolent fashion. he seemed to have the faculty of hearing when asleep, and generally appeared in my room before he had succeeded in getting his eyes completely open. anton had never found time, during his long life, to form many opinions, but he had somehow imbibed or inhaled a few convictions, all of a decidedly conservative kind, and one of these was that feldshers were useless and dangerous members of society. again and again he had advised me to have nothing to do with the one who visited me, and more than once he recommended to me an old woman of the name of masha, who lived in a village a few miles off. masha was what is known in russia as a znakharka--that is to say, a woman who is half witch, half medical practitioner--the whole permeated with a strong leaven of knavery. according to anton, she could effect by means of herbs and charms every possible cure short of raising from the dead, and even with regard to this last operation he cautiously refrained from expressing an opinion. the idea of being subjected to a course of herbs and charms by an old woman who probably knew very little about the hidden properties of either, did not seem to me inviting, and more than once i flatly refused to have recourse to such unhallowed means. on due consideration, however, i thought that a professional interview with the old witch would be rather amusing, and then a brilliant idea occurred to me! i would bring together the feldsher and the znakharka, who no doubt hated each other with a kilkenny-cat hatred, and let them fight out their differences before me for the benefit of science and my own delectation. the more i thought of my project, the more i congratulated myself on having conceived such a scheme; but, alas! in this very imperfectly organised world of ours brilliant ideas are seldom realised, and in this case i was destined to be disappointed. did the old woman's black art warn her of approaching danger, or was she simply actuated by a feeling of professional jealousy and considerations of professional etiquette? to this question i can give no positive answer, but certain it is that she could not be induced to pay me a visit, and i was thus balked of my expected amusement. i succeeded, however, in learning indirectly something about the old witch. she enjoyed among her neighbours that solid, durable kind of respect which is founded on vague, undefinable fear, and was believed to have effected many remarkable cures. in the treatment of syphilitic diseases, which are fearfully common among the russian peasantry, she was supposed to be specially successful, and i have no doubt, from the vague descriptions which i received, that the charm which she employed in these cases was of a mercurial kind. some time afterward i saw one of her victims. whether she had succeeded in destroying the poison i know not, but she had at least succeeded in destroying most completely the patient's teeth. how women of this kind obtain mercury, and how they have discovered its medicinal properties, i cannot explain. neither can i explain how they have come to know the peculiar properties of ergot of rye, which they frequently employ for illicit purposes familiar to all students of medical jurisprudence. the znakharka and the feldsher represent two very different periods in the history of medical science--the magical and the scientific. the russian peasantry have still many conceptions which belong to the former. the great majority of them are already quite willing, under ordinary circumstances, to use the scientific means of healing; but as soon as a violent epidemic breaks out, and the scientific means prove unequal to the occasion, the old faith revives, and recourse is had to magical rites and incantations. of these rites many are very curious. here, for instance, is one which had been performed in a village near which i afterwards lived for some time. cholera had been raging in the district for several weeks. in the village in question no case had yet occurred, but the inhabitants feared that the dreaded visitor would soon arrive, and the following ingenious contrivance was adopted for warding off the danger. at midnight, when the male population was supposed to be asleep, all the maidens met in nocturnal costume, according to a preconcerted plan, and formed a procession. in front marched a girl, holding an icon. behind her came her companions, dragging a sokha--the primitive plough commonly used by the peasantry--by means of a long rope. in this order the procession made the circuit of the entire village, and it was confidently believed that the cholera would not be able to overstep the magical circle thus described. many of the males probably knew, or at least suspected, what was going on; but they prudently remained within doors, knowing well that if they should be caught peeping indiscreetly at the mystic ceremony, they would be unmercifully beaten by those who were taking part in it. this custom is doubtless a survival of old pagan superstitions. the introduction of the icon is a modern innovation, which illustrates that curious blending of paganism and christianity which is often to be met with in russia, and of which i shall have more to say in another chapter. sometimes, when an epidemic breaks out, the panic produced takes a more dangerous form. the people suspect that it is the work of the doctors, or that some ill-disposed persons have poisoned the wells, and no amount of reasoning will convince them that their own habitual disregard of the most simple sanitary precautions has something to do with the phenomenon. i know of one case where an itinerant photographer was severely maltreated in consequence of such suspicions; and once, in st. petersburg, during the reign of nicholas i., a serious riot took place. the excited populace had already thrown several doctors out of the windows of the hospital, when the emperor arrived, unattended, in an open carriage, and quelled the disturbance by his simple presence, aided by his stentorian voice. of the ignorant credulity of the russian peasantry i might relate many curious illustrations. the most absurd rumours sometimes awaken consternation throughout a whole district. one of the most common reports of this kind is that a female conscription is about to take place. about the time of the duke of edinburgh's marriage with the daughter of alexander ii. this report was specially frequent. a large number of young girls were to be kidnapped and sent to england in a red ship. why the ship was to be red i can easily explain, because in the peasants' language the conceptions of red and beautiful are expressed by the same word (krasny), and in the popular legends the epithet is indiscriminately applied to everything connected with princes and great personages; but what was to be done with the kidnapped maidens when they arrived at their destination, i never succeeded in discovering. the most amusing instance of credulity which i can recall was the following, related to me by a peasant woman who came from the village where the incident had occurred. one day in winter, about the time of sunset, a peasant family was startled by the entrance of a strange visitor, a female figure, dressed as st. barbara is commonly represented in the religious pictures. all present were very much astonished by this apparition; but the figure told them, in a low, soft voice, to be of good cheer, for she was st. barbara, and had come to honour the family with a visit as a reward for their piety. the peasant thus favoured was not remarkable for his piety, but he did not consider it necessary to correct the mistake of his saintly visitor, and requested her to be seated. with perfect readiness she accepted the invitation, and began at once to discourse in an edifying way. meanwhile the news of this wonderful apparition spread like wildfire, and all the inhabitants of the village, as well as those of a neighbouring village about a mile distant, collected in and around the house. whether the priest was among those who came my informant did not know. many of those who had come could not get within hearing, but those at the outskirts of the crowd hoped that the saint might come out before disappearing. their hopes were gratified. about midnight the mysterious visitor announced that she would go and bring st. nicholas, the miracle-worker, and requested all to remain perfectly still during her absence. the crowd respectfully made way for her, and she passed out into the darkness. with breathless expectation all awaited the arrival of st. nicholas, who is the favourite saint of the russian peasantry; but hours passed, and he did not appear. at last, toward sunrise, some of the less zealous spectators began to return home, and those of them who had come from the neighbouring village discovered to their horror that during their absence their horses had been stolen! at once they raised the hue-and-cry; and the peasants scoured the country in all directions in search of the soi-disant st. barbara and her accomplices, but they never recovered the stolen property. "and serve them right, the blockheads!" added my informant, who had herself escaped falling into the trap by being absent from the village at the time. it is but fair to add that the ordinary russian peasant, though in some respects extremely credulous, and, like all other people, subject to occasional panics, is by no means easily frightened by real dangers. those who have seen them under fire will readily credit this statement. for my own part, i have had opportunities of observing them merely in dangers of a non-military kind, and have often admired the perfect coolness displayed. even an epidemic alarms them only when it attains a certain degree of intensity. once i had a good opportunity of observing this on board a large steamer on the volga. it was a very hot day in the early autumn. as it was well known that there was a great deal of asiatic cholera all over the country, prudent people refrained from eating much raw fruit; but russian peasants are not generally prudent men, and i noticed that those on board were consuming enormous quantities of raw cucumbers and water-melons. this imprudence was soon followed by its natural punishment. i refrain from describing the scene that ensued, but i may say that those who were attacked received from the others every possible assistance. had no unforeseen accident happened, we should have arrived at kazan on the following morning, and been able to send the patients to the hospital of that town; but as there was little water in the river, we had to cast anchor for the night, and next morning we ran aground and stuck fast. here we had to remain patiently till a smaller steamer hove in sight. all this time there was not the slightest symptom of panic, and when the small steamer came alongside there was no frantic rush to get away from the infected vessel, though it was quite evident that only a few of the passengers could be taken off. those who were nearest the gangway went quietly on board the small steamer, and those who were less fortunate remained patiently till another steamer happened to pass. the old conceptions of disease, as something that may be most successfully cured by charms and similar means, are rapidly disappearing. the zemstvo--that is to say, the new local self-government--has done much towards this end by enabling the people to procure better medical attendance. in the towns there are public hospitals, which generally are--or at least seem to an unprofessional eye--in a very satisfactory condition. the resident doctors are daily besieged by a crowd of peasants, who come from far and near to ask advice and receive medicines. besides this, in some provinces feldshers are placed in the principal villages, and the doctor makes frequent tours of inspection. the doctors are generally well-educated men, and do a large amount of work for a very small remuneration. of the lunatic asylums, which are generally attached to the larger hospitals, i cannot speak very favourably. some of the great central ones are all that could be desired, but others are badly constructed and fearfully overcrowded. one or two of those i visited appeared to me to be conducted on very patriarchal principles, as the following incident may illustrate. i had been visiting a large hospital, and had remained there so long that it was already dark before i reached the adjacent lunatic asylum. seeing no lights in the windows, i proposed to my companion, who was one of the inspectors, that we should delay our visit till the following morning, but he assured me that by the regulations the lights ought not to be extinguished till considerably later, and consequently there was no objection to our going in at once. if there was no legal objection, there was at least a physical obstruction in the form of a large wooden door, and all our efforts to attract the attention of the porter or some other inmate were unavailing. at last, after much ringing, knocking, and shouting, a voice from within asked us who we were and what we wanted. a brief reply from my companion, not couched in the most polite or amiable terms, made the bolts rattle and the door open with surprising rapidity, and we saw before us an old man with long dishevelled hair, who, as far as appearance went, might have been one of the lunatics, bowing obsequiously and muttering apologies. after groping our way along a dark corridor we entered a still darker room, and the door was closed and locked behind us. as the key turned in the rusty lock a wild scream rang through the darkness! then came a yell, then a howl, and then various sounds which the poverty of the english language prevents me from designating--the whole blending into a hideous discord that would have been at home in some of the worst regions of dante's inferno. as to the cause of it i could not even form a conjecture. gradually my eyes became accustomed to the darkness, and i could dimly perceive white figures flitting about the room. at the same time i felt something standing near me, and close to my shoulder i saw a pair of eyes and long streaming hair. on my other side, equally close, was something very like a woman's night-cap. though by no means of a nervous temperament, i felt uncomfortable. to be shut up in a dark room with an indefinite number of excited maniacs is not a comfortable position. how long the imprisonment lasted i know not--probably not more than two or three minutes, but it seemed a long time. at last a light was procured, and the whole affair was explained. the guardians, not expecting the visit of an inspector at so late an hour, had retired for the night much earlier than usual, and the old porter had put us into the nearest ward until he could fetch a light--locking the door behind us lest any of the lunatics should escape. the noise had awakened one of the unfortunate inmates of the ward, and her hysterical scream had terrified the others. by the influence of asylums, hospitals, and similar institutions, the old conceptions of disease, as i have said, are gradually dying out, but the znakharka still finds practice. the fact that the znakharka is to be found side by side not only with the feldsher, but also with the highly trained bacteriologist, is very characteristic of russian civilisation, which is a strange conglomeration of products belonging to very different periods. the enquirer who undertakes the study of it will sometimes be scarcely less surprised than would be the naturalist who should unexpectedly stumble upon antediluvian megatheria grazing tranquilly in the same field with prize southdowns. he will discover the most primitive institutions side by side with the latest products of french doctrinairism, and the most childish superstitions in close proximity with the most advanced free-thinking. chapter vi a peasant family of the old type ivan petroff--his past life--co-operative associations--constitution of a peasant's household--predominance of economic conceptions over those of blood-relationship--peasant marriages--advantages of living in large families--its defects--family disruptions and their consequences. my illness had at least one good result. it brought me into contact with the feldsher, and through him, after my recovery, i made the acquaintance of several peasants living in the village. of these by far the most interesting was an old man called ivan petroff. ivan must have been about sixty years of age, but was still robust and strong, and had the reputation of being able to mow more hay in a given time than any other peasant in the village. his head would have made a line study for a portrait-painter. like russian peasants in general, he wore his hair parted in the middle--a custom which perhaps owes its origin to the religious pictures. the reverend appearance given to his face by his long fair beard, slightly tinged with grey, was in part counteracted by his eyes, which had a strange twinkle in them--whether of humour or of roguery, it was difficult to say. under all circumstances--whether in his light, nondescript summer costume, or in his warm sheep-skin, or in the long, glossy, dark-blue, double-breasted coat which he put on occasionally on sundays and holidays--he always looked a well-fed, respectable, prosperous member of society; whilst his imperturbable composure, and the entire absence of obsequiousness or truculence in his manner, indicated plainly that he possessed no small amount of calm, deep-rooted self-respect. a stranger, on seeing him, might readily have leaped to the conclusion that he must be the village elder, but in reality he was a simple member of the commune, like his neighbour, poor zakhar leshkof, who never let slip an opportunity of getting drunk, was always in debt, and, on the whole, possessed a more than dubious reputation. ivan had, it is true, been village elder some years before. when elected by the village assembly, against his own wishes, he had said quietly, "very well, children; i will serve my three years"; and at the end of that period, when the assembly wished to re-elect him, he had answered firmly, "no, children; i have served my term. it is now the turn of some one who is younger, and has more time. there's peter alekseyef, a good fellow, and an honest; you may choose him." and the assembly chose the peasant indicated; for ivan, though a simple member of the commune, had more influence in communal affairs than any other half-dozen members put together. no grave matter was decided without his being consulted, and there was at least one instance on record of the village assembly postponing deliberations for a week because he happened to be absent in st. petersburg. no stranger casually meeting ivan would ever for a moment have suspected that that big man, of calm, commanding aspect, had been during a great part of his life a serf. and yet a serf he had been from his birth till he was about thirty years of age--not merely a serf of the state, but the serf of a proprietor who had lived habitually on his property. for thirty years of his life he had been dependent on the arbitrary will of a master who had the legal power to flog him as often and as severely as he considered desirable. in reality he had never been subjected to corporal punishment, for the proprietor to whom he had belonged had been, though in some respects severe, a just and intelligent master. ivan's bright, sympathetic face had early attracted the master's attention, and it was decided that he should learn a trade. for this purpose he was sent to moscow, and apprenticed there to a carpenter. after four years of apprenticeship he was able not only to earn his own bread, but to help the household in the payment of their taxes, and to pay annually to his master a fixed yearly sum--first ten, then twenty, then thirty, and ultimately, for some years immediately before the emancipation, seventy roubles. in return for this annual sum he was free to work and wander about as he pleased, and for some years he had made ample use of his conditional liberty. i never succeeded in extracting from him a chronological account of his travels, but i could gather from his occasional remarks that he had wandered over a great part of european russia. evidently he had been in his youth what is colloquially termed "a roving blade," and had by no means confined himself to the trade which he had learned during his four years of apprenticeship. once he had helped to navigate a raft from vetluga to astrakhan, a distance of about two thousand miles. at another time he had been at archangel and onega, on the shores of the white sea. st. petersburg and moscow were both well known to him, and he had visited odessa. the precise nature of ivan's occupations during these wanderings i could not ascertain; for, with all his openness of manner, he was extremely reticent regarding his commercial affairs. to all my inquiries on this topic he was wont to reply vaguely, "lesnoe dyelo"--that is to say, "timber business"; and from this i concluded that his chief occupation had been that of a timber merchant. indeed, when i knew him, though he was no longer a regular trader, he was always ready to buy any bit of forest that could be bought in the vicinity for a reasonable price. during all this nomadic period of his life ivan had never entirely severed his connection with his native village or with agricultural life. when about the age of twenty he had spent several months at home, taking part in the field labour, and had married a wife--a strong, healthy young woman, who had been selected for him by his mother, and strongly recommended to him on account of her good character and her physical strength. in the opinion of ivan's mother, beauty was a kind of luxury which only nobles and rich merchants could afford, and ordinary comeliness was a very secondary consideration--so secondary as to be left almost entirely out of sight. this was likewise the opinion of ivan's wife. she had never been comely herself, she used to say, but she had been a good wife to her husband. he had never complained about her want of good looks, and had never gone after those who were considered good-looking. in expressing this opinion she always first bent forward, then drew herself up to her full length, and finally gave a little jerky nod sideways, so as to clench the statement. then ivan's bright eye would twinkle more brightly than usual, and he would ask her how she knew that--reminding her that he was not always at home. this was ivan's stereotyped mode of teasing his wife, and every time he employed it he was called an "old scarecrow," or something of the kind. perhaps, however, ivan's jocular remark had more significance in it than his wife cared to admit, for during the first years of their married life they had seen very little of each other. a few days after the marriage, when according to our notions the honeymoon should be at its height, ivan had gone to moscow for several months, leaving his young bride to the care of his father and mother. the young bride did not consider this an extraordinary hardship, for many of her companions had been treated in the same way, and according to public opinion in that part of the country there was nothing abnormal in the proceeding. indeed, it may be said in general that there is very little romance or sentimentality about russian peasant marriages. in this as in other respects the russian peasantry are, as a class, extremely practical and matter-of-fact in their conceptions and habits, and are not at all prone to indulge in sublime, ethereal sentiments of any kind. they have little or nothing of what may be termed the hermann and dorothea element in their composition, and consequently know very little about those sentimental, romantic ideas which we habitually associate with the preliminary steps to matrimony. even those authors who endeavour to idealise peasant life have rarely ventured to make their story turn on a sentimental love affair. certainly in real life the wife is taken as a helpmate, or in plain language a worker, rather than as a companion, and the mother-in-law leaves her very little time to indulge in fruitless dreaming. as time wore on, and his father became older and frailer, ivan's visits to his native place became longer and more frequent, and when the old man was at last incapable of work, ivan settled down permanently and undertook the direction of the household. in the meantime his own children had been growing up. when i knew the family it comprised--besides two daughters who had married early and gone to live with their parents-in-law--ivan and his wife, two sons, three daughters-in-law, and an indefinite and frequently varying number of grandchildren. the fact that there were three daughters-in-law and only two sons was the result of the conscription, which had taken away the youngest son shortly after his marriage. the two who remained spent only a small part of the year at home. the one was a carpenter and the other a bricklayer, and both wandered about the country in search of employment, as their father had done in his younger days. there was, however, one difference. the father had always shown a leaning towards commercial transactions, rather than the simple practice of his handicraft, and consequently he had usually lived and travelled alone. the sons, on the contrary, confined themselves to their handicrafts, and were always during the working season members of an artel. the artel in its various forms is a curious institution. those to which ivan's sons belonged were simply temporary, itinerant associations of workmen, who during the summer lived together, fed together, worked together, and periodically divided amongst themselves the profits. this is the primitive form of the institution, and is now not very often met with. here, as elsewhere, capital has made itself felt, and destroyed that equality which exists among the members of an artel in the above sense of the word. instead of forming themselves into a temporary association, the workmen now generally make an engagement with a contractor who has a little capital, and receive from him fixed monthly wages. the only association which exists in this case is for the purchase and preparation of provisions, and even these duties are very often left to the contractor. in some of the larger towns there are artels of a much more complex kind--permanent associations, possessing a large capital, and pecuniarily responsible for the acts of the individual members. of these, by far the most celebrated is that of the bank porters. these men have unlimited opportunities of stealing, and are often entrusted with the guarding or transporting of enormous sums; but the banker has no cause for anxiety, because he knows that if any defalcations occur they will be made good to him by the artel. such accidents very rarely happen, and the fact is by no means so extraordinary as many people suppose. the artel, being responsible for the individuals of which it is composed, is very careful in admitting new members, and a man when admitted is closely watched, not only by the regularly constituted office-bearers, but also by all his fellow-members who have an opportunity of observing him. if he begins to spend money too freely or to neglect his duties, though his employer may know nothing of the fact, suspicions are at once aroused among his fellow-members, and an investigation ensues--ending in summary expulsion if the suspicions prove to have been well founded. mutual responsibility, in short, creates a very effective system of mutual supervision. of ivan's sons, the one who was a carpenter visited his family only occasionally, and at irregular intervals; the bricklayer, on the contrary, as building is impossible in russia during the cold weather, spent the greater part of the winter at home. both of them paid a large part of their earnings into the family treasury, over which their father exercised uncontrolled authority. if he wished to make any considerable outlay, he consulted his sons on the subject; but as he was a prudent, intelligent man, and enjoyed the respect and confidence of the family, he never met with any strong opposition. all the field work was performed by him with the assistance of his daughters-in-law; only at harvest time he hired one or two labourers to help him. ivan's household was a good specimen of the russian peasant family of the old type. previous to the emancipation in there were many households of this kind, containing the representatives of three generations. all the members, young and old, lived together in patriarchal fashion under the direction and authority of the head of the house, called usually the khozain--that is to say, the administrator; or, in some districts, the bolshak, which means literally "the big one." generally speaking, this important position was occupied by the grandfather, or, if he was dead, by the eldest brother, but the rule was not very strictly observed. if, for instance, the grandfather became infirm, or if the eldest brother was incapacitated by disorderly habits or other cause, the place of authority was taken by some other member--it might be by a woman--who was a good manager, and possessed the greatest moral influence. the relations between the head of the household and the other members depended on custom and personal character, and they consequently varied greatly in different families. if the big one was an intelligent man, of decided, energetic character, like my friend ivan, there was probably perfect discipline in the household, except perhaps in the matter of female tongues, which do not readily submit to the authority even of their owners; but very often it happened that the big one was not thoroughly well fitted for his post, and in that case endless quarrels and bickerings inevitably took place. those quarrels were generally caused and fomented by the female members of the family--a fact which will not seem strange if we try to realise how difficult it must be for several sisters-in-law to live together, with their children and a mother-in-law, within the narrow limits of a peasant's household. the complaints of the young bride, who finds that her mother-in-law puts all the hard work on her shoulders, form a favourite motive in the popular poetry. the house, with its appurtenances, the cattle, the agricultural implements, the grain and other products, the money gained from the sale of these products--in a word, the house and nearly everything it contained--were the joint property of the family. hence nothing was bought or sold by any member--not even by the big one himself, unless he possessed an unusual amount of authority--without the express or tacit consent of the other grown-up males, and all the money that was earned was put into the common purse. when one of the sons left home to work elsewhere, he was expected to bring or send home all his earnings, except what he required for food, lodgings, and other necessary expenses; and if he understood the word "necessary" in too lax a sense, he had to listen to very plain-spoken reproaches when he returned. during his absence, which might last for a whole year or several years, his wife and children remained in the house as before, and the money which he earned could be devoted to the payment of the family taxes. the peasant household of the old type is thus a primitive labour association, of which the members have all things in common, and it is not a little remarkable that the peasant conceives it as such rather than as a family. this is shown by the customary terminology, for the head of the household is not called by any word corresponding to paterfamilias, but is termed, as i have said, khozain, or administrator--a word that is applied equally to a farmer, a shopkeeper or the head of an industrial undertaking, and does not at all convey the idea of blood-relationship. it is likewise shown by what takes place when a household is broken up. on such occasions the degree of blood-relationship is not taken into consideration in the distribution of the property. all the adult male members share equally. illegitimate and adopted sons, if they have contributed their share of labour, have the same rights as the sons born in lawful wedlock. the married daughter, on the contrary--being regarded as belonging to her husband's family--and the son who has previously separated himself from the household, are excluded from the succession. strictly speaking, the succession or inheritance is confined to the wearing apparel and any little personal effects of a deceased member. the house and all that it contains belong to the little household community; and, consequently, when it is broken up, by the death of the khozain or other cause, the members do not inherit, but merely appropriate individually what they had hitherto possessed collectively. thus there is properly no inheritance or succession, but simply liquidation and distribution of the property among the members. the written law of inheritance founded on the conception of personal property, is quite unknown to the peasantry, and quite inapplicable to their mode of life. in this way a large and most important section of the code remains a dead letter for about four-fifths of the population. this predominance of practical economic considerations is exemplified also by the way in which marriages are arranged in these large families. in the primitive system of agriculture usually practised in russia, the natural labour-unit--if i may use such a term--comprises a man, a woman, and a horse. as soon, therefore, as a boy becomes an able-bodied labourer he ought to be provided with the two accessories necessary for the completion of the labour-unit. to procure a horse, either by purchase or by rearing a foal, is the duty of the head of the house; to procure a wife for the youth is the duty of "the female big one" (bolshukha). and the chief consideration in determining the choice is in both cases the same. prudent domestic administrators are not to be tempted by showy horses or beautiful brides; what they seek is not beauty, but physical strength and capacity for work. when the youth reaches the age of eighteen he is informed that he ought to marry at once, and as soon as he gives his consent negotiations are opened with the parents of some eligible young person. in the larger villages the negotiations are sometimes facilitated by certain old women called svakhi, who occupy themselves specially with this kind of mediation; but very often the affair is arranged directly by, or through the agency of, some common friend of the two houses. care must of course be taken that there is no legal obstacle, and these obstacles are not always easily avoided in a small village, the inhabitants of which have been long in the habit of intermarrying. according to russian ecclesiastical law, not only is marriage between first-cousins illegal, but affinity is considered as equivalent to consanguinity--that is to say a mother-in-law and a sister-in-law are regarded as a mother and a sister--and even the fictitious relationship created by standing together at the baptismal font as godfather and godmother is legally recognised, and may constitute a bar to matrimony. if all the preliminary negotiations are successful, the marriage takes place, and the bridegroom brings his bride home to the house of which he is a member. she brings nothing with her as a dowry except her trousseau, but she brings a pair of good strong arms, and thereby enriches her adopted family. of course it happens occasionally--for human nature is everywhere essentially the same--that a young peasant falls in love with one of his former playmates, and brings his little romance to a happy conclusion at the altar; but such cases are very rare, and as a rule it may be said that the marriages of the russian peasantry are arranged under the influence of economic rather than sentimental considerations. the custom of living in large families has many economic advantages. we all know the edifying fable of the dying man who showed to his sons by means of a piece of wicker-work the advantages of living together and assisting each other. in ordinary times the necessary expenses of a large household of ten members are considerably less than the combined expenses of two households comprising five members each, and when a "black day" comes a large family can bear temporary adversity much more successfully than a small one. these are principles of world-wide application, but in the life of the russian peasantry they have a peculiar force. each adult peasant possesses, as i shall hereafter explain, a share of the communal land, but this share is not sufficient to occupy all his time and working power. one married pair can easily cultivate two shares--at least in all provinces where the peasant allotments are not very large. now, if a family is composed of two married couples, one of the men can go elsewhere and earn money, whilst the other, with his wife and sister-in-law, can cultivate the two combined shares of land. if, on the contrary a family consists merely of one pair with their children, the man must either remain at home--in which case he may have difficulty in finding work for the whole of his time--or he must leave home, and entrust the cultivation of his share of the land to his wife, whose time must be in great part devoted to domestic affairs. in the time of serfage the proprietors clearly perceived these and similar advantages, and compelled their serfs to live together in large families. no family could be broken up without the proprietor's consent, and this consent was not easily obtained unless the family had assumed quite abnormal proportions and was permanently disturbed by domestic dissension. in the matrimonial affairs of the serfs, too, the majority of the proprietors systematically exercised a certain supervision, not necessarily from any paltry meddling spirit, but because their own material interests were thereby affected. a proprietor would not, for instance, allow the daughter of one of his serfs to marry a serf belonging to another proprietor--because he would thereby lose a female labourer--unless some compensation were offered. the compensation might be a sum of money, or the affair might be arranged on the principle of reciprocity by the master of the bridegroom allowing one of his female serfs to marry a serf belonging to the master of the bride. however advantageous the custom of living in large families may appear when regarded from the economic point of view, it has very serious defects, both theoretical and practical. that families connected by the ties of blood-relationship and marriage can easily live together in harmony is one of those social axioms which are accepted universally and believed by nobody. we all know by our own experience, or by that of others, that the friendly relations of two such families are greatly endangered by proximity of habitation. to live in the same street is not advisable; to occupy adjoining houses is positively dangerous; and to live under the same roof is certainly fatal to prolonged amity. there may be the very best intentions on both sides, and the arrangement may be inaugurated by the most gushing expressions of undying affection and by the discovery of innumerable secret affinities, but neither affinities, affection, nor good intentions can withstand the constant friction and occasional jerks which inevitably ensue. now the reader must endeavour to realise that russian peasants, even when clad in sheep-skins, are human beings like ourselves. though they are often represented as abstract entities--as figures in a table of statistics or dots on a diagram--they have in reality "organs, dimensions, senses, affections, passions." if not exactly "fed with the same food," they are at least "hurt with the same weapons, subject to the same diseases, healed by the same means," and liable to be irritated by the same annoyances as we are. and those of them who live in large families are subjected to a kind of probation that most of us have never dreamed of. the families comprising a large household not only live together, but have nearly all things in common. each member works, not for himself, but for the household, and all that he earns is expected to go into the family treasury. the arrangement almost inevitably leads to one of two results--either there are continual dissensions, or order is preserved by a powerful domestic tyranny. it is quite natural, therefore, that when the authority of the landed proprietors was abolished in , the large peasant families almost all crumbled to pieces. the arbitrary rule of the khozain was based on, and maintained by, the arbitrary rule of the proprietor, and both naturally fell together. households like that of our friend ivan were preserved only in exceptional cases, where the head of the house happened to possess an unusual amount of moral influence over the other members. this change has unquestionably had a prejudicial influence on the material welfare of the peasantry, but it must have added considerably to their domestic comfort, and may perhaps produce good moral results. for the present, however, the evil consequences are by far the most prominent. every married peasant strives to have a house of his own, and many of them, in order to defray the necessary expenses, have been obliged to contract debts. this is a very serious matter. even if the peasants could obtain money at five or six per cent., the position of the debtors would be bad enough, but it is in reality much worse, for the village usurers consider twenty or twenty-five per cent. a by no means exorbitant rate of interest. a laudable attempt has been made to remedy this state of things by village banks, but these have proved successful only in certain exceptional localities. as a rule the peasant who contracts debts has a hard struggle to pay the interest in ordinary times, and when some misfortune overtakes him--when, for instance, the harvest is bad or his horse is stolen--he probably falls hopelessly into pecuniary embarrassments. i have seen peasants not specially addicted to drunkenness or other ruinous habits sink to a helpless state of insolvency. fortunately for such insolvent debtors, they are treated by the law with extreme leniency. their house, their share of the common land, their agricultural implements, their horse--in a word, all that is necessary for their subsistence, is exempt from sequestration. the commune, however, may bring strong pressure to bear on those who do not pay their taxes. when i lived among the peasantry in the seventies, corporal punishment inflicted by order of the commune was among the means usually employed; and though the custom was recently prohibited by an imperial decree of nicholas ii, i am not at all sure that it has entirely disappeared. chapter vii the peasantry of the north communal land--system of agriculture--parish fetes--fasting--winter occupations--yearly migrations--domestic industries--influence of capital and wholesale enterprise--the state peasants--serf-dues--buckle's "history of civilisation"--a precocious yamstchik--"people who play pranks"--a midnight alarm--the far north. ivanofka may be taken as a fair specimen of the villages in the northern half of the country, and a brief description of its inhabitants will convey a tolerably correct notion of the northern peasantry in general. nearly the whole of the female population, and about one-half of the male inhabitants, are habitually engaged in cultivating the communal land, which comprises about two thousand acres of a light sandy soil. the arable part of this land is divided into three large fields, each of which is cut up into long narrow strips. the first field is reserved for the winter grain--that is to say, rye, which forms, in the shape of black bread, the principal food of the rural population. in the second are raised oats for the horses, and buckwheat, which is largely used for food. the third lies fallow, and is used in the summer as pasturage for the cattle. all the villagers in this part of the country divide the arable land in this way, in order to suit the triennial rotation of crops. this triennial system is extremely simple. the field which is used this year for raising winter grain will be used next year for raising summer grain, and in the following year will lie fallow. before being sown with winter grain it ought to receive a certain amount of manure. every family possesses in each of the two fields under cultivation one or more of the long narrow strips or belts into which they are divided. the annual life of the peasantry is that of simple husbandman, inhabiting a country where the winter is long and severe. the agricultural year begins in april with the melting of the snow. nature has been lying dormant for some months. awaking now from her long sleep, and throwing off her white mantle, she strives to make up for lost time. no sooner has the snow disappeared than the fresh young grass begins to shoot up, and very soon afterwards the shrubs and trees begin to bud. the rapidity of this transition from winter to spring astonishes the inhabitants of more temperate climes. on st. george's day (april rd*) the cattle are brought out for the first time, and sprinkled with holy water by the priest. they are never very fat, but at this period of the year their appearance is truly lamentable. during the winter they have been cooped up in small unventilated cow-houses, and fed almost exclusively on straw; now, when they are released from their imprisonment, they look like the ghosts of their former emaciated selves. all are lean and weak, many are lame, and some cannot rise to their feet without assistance. * with regard to saints' days, i always give the date according to the old style. to find the date according to our calendar, thirteen days must be added. meanwhile the peasants are impatient to begin the field labour. an old proverb which they all know says: "sow in mud and you will be a prince"; and they always act in accordance with this dictate of traditional wisdom. as soon as it is possible to plough they begin to prepare the land for the summer grain, and this labour occupies them probably till the end of may. then comes the work of carting out manure and preparing the fallow field for the winter grain, which will last probably till about st. peter's day (june th), when the hay-making generally begins. after the hay-making comes the harvest, by far the busiest time of the year. from the middle of july--especially from st. elijah's day (july th), when the saint is usually heard rumbling along the heavens in his chariot of fire*--until the end of august, the peasant may work day and night, and yet he will find that he has barely time to get all his work done. in little more than a month he has to reap and stack his grain--rye, oats, and whatever else he may have sown either in spring or in the preceding autumn--and to sow the winter grain for next year. to add to his troubles, it sometimes happens that the rye and the oats ripen almost simultaneously, and his position is then still more difficult. * it is thus that the peasants explain the thunder, which is often heard at that season. whether the seasons favour him or not, the peasant has at this time a hard task, for he can rarely afford to hire the requisite number of labourers, and has generally the assistance merely of his wife and family; but he can at this season work for a short time at high pressure, for he has the prospect of soon obtaining a good rest and an abundance of food. about the end of september the field labour is finished, and on the first day of october the harvest festival begins--a joyous season, during which the parish fetes are commonly celebrated. to celebrate a parish fete in true orthodox fashion it is necessary to prepare beforehand a large quantity of braga--a kind of home-brewed small beer--and to bake a plentiful supply of piroghi or meat pies. oil, too, has to be procured, and vodka (rye spirit) in goodly quantity. at the same time the big room of the izba, as the peasant's house is called, has to be cleared, the floor washed, and the table and benches scrubbed. the evening before the fete, while the piroghi are being baked, a little lamp burns before the icon in the corner of the room, and perhaps one or two guests from a distance arrive in order that they may have on the morrow a full day's enjoyment. on the morning of the fete the proceedings begin by a long service in the church, at which all the inhabitants are present in their best holiday costumes, except those matrons and young women who remain at home to prepare the dinner. about mid-day dinner is served in each izba for the family and their friends. in general the russian peasant's fare is of the simplest kind, and rarely comprises animal food of any sort--not from any vegetarian proclivities, but merely because beef, mutton, and pork are too expensive; but on a holiday, such as a parish fete, there is always on the dinner table a considerable variety of dishes. in the house of a well-to-do family there will be not only greasy cabbage-soup and kasha--a dish made from buckwheat--but also pork, mutton, and perhaps even beef. braga will be supplied in unlimited quantities, and more than once vodka will be handed round. when the repast is finished, all rise together, and, turning towards the icon in the corner, bow and cross themselves repeatedly. the guests then say to their host, "spasibo za khelb za sol"--that is to say, "thanks for your hospitality," or more literally, "thanks for bread and salt"; and the host replies, "do not be displeased, sit down once more for good luck"--or perhaps he puts the last part of his request into the form of a rhyming couplet to the following effect: "sit down, that the hens may brood, and that the chickens and bees may multiply!" all obey this request, and there is another round of vodka. after dinner some stroll about, chatting with their friends, or go to sleep in some shady nook, whilst those who wish to make merry go to the spot where the young people are singing, playing, and amusing themselves in various ways. as the sun sinks towards the horizon, the more grave, staid guests wend their way homewards, but many remain for supper; and as evening advances the effects of the vodka become more and more apparent. sounds of revelry are heard more frequently from the houses, and a large proportion of the inhabitants and guests appear on the road in various degrees of intoxication. some of these vow eternal affection to their friends, or with flaccid gestures and in incoherent tones harangue invisible audiences; others stagger about aimlessly in besotted self-contentment, till they drop down in a state of complete unconsciousness. there they will lie tranquilly till they are picked up by their less intoxicated friends, or more probably till they awake of their own accord next morning. as a whole, a village fete in russia is a saddening spectacle. it affords a new proof--where, alas! no new proof was required--that we northern nations, who know so well how to work, have not yet learned the art of amusing ourselves. if the russian peasant's food were always as good and plentiful as at this season of the year, he would have little reason to complain; but this is by no means the case. gradually, as the harvest-time recedes, it deteriorates in quality, and sometimes diminishes in quantity. besides this, during a great part of the year the peasant is prevented, by the rules of the church, from using much that he possesses. in southern climes, where these rules were elaborated and first practised, the prescribed fasts are perhaps useful not only in a religious, but also in a sanitary sense. having abundance of fruit and vegetables, the inhabitants do well to abstain occasionally from animal food. but in countries like northern and central russia the influence of these rules is very different. the russian peasant cannot get as much animal food as he requires, whilst sour cabbage and cucumbers are probably the only vegetables he can procure, and fruit of any kind is for him an unattainable luxury. under these circumstances, abstinence from eggs and milk in all their forms during several months of the year seems to the secular mind a superfluous bit of asceticism. if the church would direct her maternal solicitude to the peasant's drinking, and leave him to eat what he pleases, she might exercise a beneficial influence on his material and moral welfare. unfortunately she has a great deal too much inherent immobility to attempt anything of the kind, so the muzhik, while free to drink copiously whenever he gets the chance, must fast during the seven weeks of lent, during two or three weeks in june, from the beginning of november till christmas, and on all wednesdays and fridays during the remainder of the year. from the festival time till the following spring there is no possibility of doing any agricultural work, for the ground is hard as iron, and covered with a deep layer of snow. the male peasants, therefore, who remain in the villages, have very little to do, and may spend the greater part of their time in lying idly on the stove, unless they happen to have learned some handicraft that can be practised at home. formerly, many of them were employed in transporting the grain to the market town, which might be several hundred miles distant; but now this species of occupation has been greatly diminished by the extension of railways. another winter occupation which was formerly practised, and has now almost fallen into disuse, was that of stealing wood in the forest. this was, according to peasant morality, no sin, or at most a very venial offence, for god plants and waters the trees, and therefore forests belong properly to no one. so thought the peasantry, but the landed proprietors and the administration of the domains held a different theory of property, and consequently precautions had to be taken to avoid detection. in order to ensure success it was necessary to choose a night when there was a violent snowstorm, which would immediately obliterate all traces of the expedition; and when such a night was found, the operation was commonly performed with success. during the hours of darkness a tree would be felled, stripped of its branches, dragged into the village, and cut up into firewood, and at sunrise the actors would be tranquilly sleeping on the stove as if they had spent the night at home. in recent years the judicial authorities have done much towards putting down this practice and eradicating the loose conceptions of property with which it was connected. for the female part of the population the winter used to be a busy time, for it was during these four or five months that the spinning and weaving had to be done, but now the big factories, with their cheap methods of production, are rapidly killing the home industries, and the young girls are not learning to work at the jenny and the loom as their mothers and grandmothers did. in many of the northern villages, where ancient usages happen to be preserved, the tedium of the long winter evenings is relieved by so-called besedy, a word which signifies literally conversazioni. a beseda, however, is not exactly a conversazione as we understand the term, but resembles rather what is by some ladies called a dorcas meeting, with this essential difference, that those present work for themselves and not for any benevolent purposes. in some villages as many as three besedy regularly assemble about sunset; one for the children, the second for the young people, and the third for the matrons. each of the three has its peculiar character. in the first, the children work and amuse themselves under the superintendence of an old woman, who trims the torch* and endeavours to keep order. the little girls spin flax in a primitive way without the aid of a jenny, and the boys, who are, on the whole, much less industrious, make simple bits of wicker-work. formerly--i mean within my own recollection--many of them used to make rude shoes of plaited bark, called lapty, but these are being rapidly supplanted by leather boots. these occupations do not prevent an almost incessant hum of talk, frequent discordant attempts to sing in chorus, and occasional quarrels requiring the energetic interference of the old woman who controls the proceedings. to amuse her noisy flock she sometimes relates to them, for the hundredth time, one of those wonderful old stories that lose nothing by repetition, and all listen to her attentively, as if they had never heard the story before. * the torch (lutchina) has now almost entirely disappeared and been replaced by the petroleum lamp. the second beseda is held in another house by the young people of a riper age. here the workers are naturally more staid, less given to quarrelling, sing more in harmony, and require no one to look after them. some people, however, might think that a chaperon or inspector of some kind would be by no means out of place, for a good deal of flirtation goes on, and if village scandal is to be trusted, strict propriety in thought, word, and deed is not always observed. how far these reports are true i cannot pretend to say, for the presence of a stranger always acts on the company like the presence of a severe inspector. in the third beseda there is always at least strict decorum. here the married women work together and talk about their domestic concerns, enlivening the conversation occasionally by the introduction of little bits of village scandal. such is the ordinary life of the peasants who live by agriculture; but many of the villagers live occasionally or permanently in the towns. probably the majority of the peasants in this region have at some period of their lives gained a living elsewhere. many of the absentees spend yearly a few months at home, whilst others visit their families only occasionally, and, it may be, at long intervals. in no case, however, do they sever their connection with their native village. even the peasant who becomes a rich merchant and settles permanently with his family in moscow or st. petersburg remains probably a member of the village commune, and pays his share of the taxes, though he does not enjoy any of the corresponding privileges. once i remember asking a rich man of this kind, the proprietor of several large houses in st. petersburg, why he did not free himself from all connection with his native commune, with which he had no longer any interests in common. his answer was, "it is all very well to be free, and i don't want anything from the commune now; but my old father lives there, my mother is buried there, and i like to go back to the old place sometimes. besides, i have children, and our affairs are commercial (nashe dyelo torgovoe). who knows but my children may be very glad some day to have a share of the commune land?" in respect to these non-agricultural occupations, each district has its specialty. the province of yaroslavl, for instance, supplies the large towns with waiters for the traktirs, or lower class of restaurants, whilst the best hotels in petersburg are supplied by the tartars of kasimof, celebrated for their sobriety and honesty. one part of the province of kostroma has a special reputation for producing carpenters and stove-builders, whilst another part, as i once discovered to my surprise, sends yearly to siberia--not as convicts, but as free laborours--a large contingent of tailors and workers in felt! on questioning some youngsters who were accompanying as apprentices one of these bands, i was informed by a bright-eyed youth of about sixteen that he had already made the journey twice, and intended to go every winter. "and you always bring home a big pile of money with you?" i inquired. "nitchevo!" replied the little fellow, gaily, with an air of pride and self-confidence; "last year i brought home three roubles!" this answer was, at the moment, not altogether welcome, for i had just been discussing with a russian fellow-traveller as to whether the peasantry can fairly be called industrious, and the boy's reply enabled my antagonist to score a point against me. "you hear that!" he said, triumphantly. "a russian peasant goes all the way to siberia and back for three roubles! could you get an englishman to work at that rate?" "perhaps not," i replied, evasively, thinking at the same time that if a youth were sent several times from land's end to john o' groat's house, and obliged to make the greater part of the journey in carts or on foot, he would probably expect, by way of remuneration for the time and labour expended, rather more than seven and sixpence! very often the peasants find industrial occupations without leaving home, for various industries which do not require complicated machinery are practised in the villages by the peasants and their families. wooden vessels, wrought iron, pottery, leather, rush-matting, and numerous other articles are thus produced in enormous quantities. occasionally we find not only a whole village, but even a whole district occupied almost exclusively with some one kind of manual industry. in the province of vladimir, for example, a large group of villages live by icon-painting; in one locality near nizhni-novgorod nineteen villages are occupied with the manufacture of axes; round about pavlovo, in the same province, eighty villages produce almost nothing but cutlery; and in a locality called ouloma, on the borders of novgorod and tver, no less than two hundred villages live by nail-making. these domestic industries have long existed, and were formerly an abundant source of revenue--providing a certain compensation for the poverty of the soil. but at present they are in a very critical position. they belong to the primitive period of economic development, and that period in russia, as i shall explain in a future chapter, is now rapidly drawing to a close. formerly the head of a household bought the raw material, had it worked up at home, and sold with a reasonable profit the manufactured articles at the bazaars, as the local fairs are called, or perhaps at the great annual yarmarkt* of nizhni-novgorod. this primitive system is now rapidly becoming obsolete. capital and wholesale enterprise have come into the field and are revolutionising the old methods of production and trade. already whole groups of industrial villages have fallen under the power of middle-men, who advance money to the working households and fix the price of the products. attempts are frequently made to break their power by voluntary co-operative associations, organised by the local authorities or benevolent landed proprietors of the neighbourhood--like the benevolent people in england who try to preserve the traditional cottage industries--and some of the associations work very well; but the ultimate success of such "efforts to stem the current of capitalism" is extremely doubtful. at the same time, the periodical bazaars and yarmarki, at which producers and consumers transacted their affairs without mediation, are being replaced by permanent stores and by various classes of tradesmen--wholesale and retail. * this term is a corruption of the german word jahrmarkt. to the political economist of the rigidly orthodox school this important change may afford great satisfaction. according to his theories it is a gigantic step in the right direction, and must necessarily redound to the advantage of all parties concerned. the producer now receives a regular supply of raw material, and regularly disposes of the articles manufactured; and the time and trouble which he formerly devoted to wandering about in search of customers he can now employ more profitably in productive work. the creation of a class between the producers and the consumers is an important step towards that division and specialisation of labour which is a necessary condition of industrial and commercial prosperity. the consumer no longer requires to go on a fixed day to some distant point, on the chance of finding there what he requires, but can always buy what he pleases in the permanent stores. above all, the production is greatly increased in amount, and the price of manufactured goods is proportionally lessened. all this seems clear enough in theory, and any one who values intellectual tranquillity will feel disposed to accept this view of the case without questioning its accuracy; but the unfortunate traveller who is obliged to use his eyes as well as his logical faculties may find some little difficulty in making the facts fit into the a priori formula. far be it from me to question the wisdom of political economists, but i cannot refrain from remarking that of the three classes concerned--small producers, middle-men, and consumers--two fail to perceive and appreciate the benefits which have been conferred upon them. the small producers complain that on the new system they work more and gain less; and the consumers complain that the manufactured articles, if cheaper and more showy in appearance, are far inferior in quality. the middlemen, who are accused, rightly or wrongly, of taking for themselves the lion's share of the profits, alone seem satisfied with the new arrangement. interesting as this question undoubtedly is, it is not of permanent importance, because the present state of things is merely transitory. though the peasants may continue for a time to work at home for the wholesale dealers, they cannot in the long run compete with the big factories and workshops, organised on the european model with steam-power and complicated machinery, which already exist in many provinces. once a country has begun to move forward on the great highway of economic progress, there is no possibility of stopping halfway. here again the orthodox economists find reason for congratulation, because big factories and workshops are the cheapest and most productive form of manufacturing industry; and again, the observant traveller cannot shut his eyes to ugly facts which force themselves on his attention. he notices that this cheapest and most productive form of manufacturing industry does not seem to advance the material and moral welfare of the population. nowhere is there more disease, drunkenness, demoralisation and misery than in the manufacturing districts. the reader must not imagine that in making these statements i wish to calumniate the spirit of modern enterprise, or to advocate a return to primitive barbarism. all great changes produce a mixture of good and evil, and at first the evil is pretty sure to come prominently forward. russia is at this moment in a state of transition, and the new condition of things is not yet properly organised. with improved organisation many of the existing evils will disappear. already in recent years i have noticed sporadic signs of improvement. when factories were first established no proper arrangements were made for housing and feeding the workmen, and the consequent hardships were specially felt when the factories were founded, as is often the case, in rural districts. now, the richer and more enterprising manufacturers build large barracks for the workmen and their families, and provide them with common kitchens, wash-houses, steam-baths, schools, and similar requisites of civilised life. at the same time the government appoints inspectors to superintend the sanitary arrangements and see that the health and comfort of the workers are properly attended to. on the whole we must assume that the activity of these inspectors tends to improve the condition of the working-classes. certainly in some instances it has that effect. i remember, for example, some thirty years ago, visiting a lucifer-match factory in which the hands employed worked habitually in an atmosphere impregnated with the fumes of phosphorus, which produce insidious and very painful diseases. such a thing is hardly possible nowadays. on the other hand, official inspection, like factory acts, everywhere gives rise to a good deal of dissatisfaction and does not always improve the relations between employers and employed. some of the russian inspectors, if i may credit the testimony of employers, are young gentlemen imbued with socialist notions, who intentionally stir up discontent or who make mischief from inexperience. an amusing illustration of the current complaints came under my notice when, in , i was visiting a landed proprietor of the southern provinces, who has a large sugar factory on his estate. the inspector objected to the traditional custom of the men sleeping in large dormitories and insisted on sleeping-cots being constructed for them individually. as soon as the change was made the workmen came to the proprietor to complain, and put their grievance in an interrogative form: "are we cattle that we should be thus couped up in stalls?" to return to the northern agricultural region, the rural population have a peculiar type, which is to be accounted for by the fact that they never experienced to its full extent the demoralising influence of serfage. a large proportion of them were settled on state domains and were governed by a special branch of the imperial administration, whilst others lived on the estates of rich absentee landlords, who were in the habit of leaving the management of their properties to a steward acting under a code of instructions. in either case, though serfs in the eye of the law, they enjoyed practically a very large amount of liberty. by paying a small sum for a passport they could leave their villages for an indefinite period, and as long as they sent home regularly the money required for taxes and dues, they were in little danger of being molested. many of them, though officially inscribed as domiciled in their native communes, lived permanently in the towns, and not a few succeeded in amassing large fortunes. the effect of this comparative freedom is apparent even at the present day. these peasants of the north are more energetic, more intelligent, more independent, and consequently less docile and pliable than those of the fertile central provinces. they have, too, more education. a large proportion of them can read and write, and occasionally one meets among them men who have a keen desire for knowledge. several times i encountered peasants in this region who had a small collection of books, and twice i found in such collections, much to my astonishment, a russian translation of buckle's "history of civilisation." how, it may be asked, did a work of this sort find its way to such a place? if the reader will pardon a short digression, i shall explain the fact. immediately after the crimean war there was a curious intellectual movement--of which i shall have more to say hereafter--among the russian educated classes. the movement assumed various forms, of which two of the most prominent were a desire for encyclopaedic knowledge, and an attempt to reduce all knowledge to a scientific form. for men in this state of mind buckle's great work had naturally a powerful fascination. it seemed at first sight to reduce the multifarious conflicting facts of human history to a few simple principles, and to evolve order out of chaos. its success, therefore, was great. in the course of a few years no less than four independent translations were published and sold. every one read, or at least professed to have read, the wonderful book, and many believed that its author was the greatest genius of his time. during the first year of my residence in russia ( ), i rarely had a serious conversation without hearing buckle's name mentioned; and my friends almost always assumed that he had succeeded in creating a genuine science of history on the inductive method. in vain i pointed out that buckle had merely thrown out some hints in his introductory chapter as to how such a science ought to be constructed, and that he had himself made no serious attempt to use the method which he commended. my objections had little or no effect: the belief was too deep-rooted to be so easily eradicated. in books, periodicals, newspapers, and professional lectures the name of buckle was constantly cited--often violently dragged in without the slightest reason--and the cheap translations of his work were sold in enormous quantities. it is not, then, so very wonderful after all that the book should have found its way to two villages in the province of yaroslavl. the enterprising, self-reliant, independent spirit which is often to be found among those peasants manifests itself occasionally in amusing forms among the young generation. often in this part of the country i have encountered boys who recalled young america rather than young russia. one of these young hopefuls i remember well. i was waiting at a post-station for the horses to be changed, when he appeared before me in a sheep-skin, fur cap, and gigantic double-soled boots--all of which articles had been made on a scale adapted to future rather than actual requirements. he must have stood in his boots about three feet eight inches, and he could not have been more than twelve years of age; but he had already learned to look upon life as a serious business, wore a commanding air, and knitted his innocent little brows as if the cares of an empire weighed on his diminutive shoulders. though he was to act as yamstchik he had to leave the putting in of the horses to larger specimens of the human species, but he took care that all was done properly. putting one of his big boots a little in advance, and drawing himself up to his full shortness, he watched the operation attentively, as if the smallness of his stature had nothing to do with his inactivity. when all was ready, he climbed up to his seat, and at a signal from the station-keeper, who watched with paternal pride all the movements of the little prodigy, we dashed off at a pace rarely attained by post-horses. he had the faculty of emitting a peculiar sound--something between a whirr and a whistle--that appeared to have a magical effect on the team and every few minutes he employed this incentive. the road was rough, and at every jolt he was shot upwards into the air, but he always fell back into his proper position, and never lost for a moment his self-possession or his balance. at the end of the journey i found we had made nearly fourteen miles within the hour. unfortunately this energetic, enterprising spirit sometimes takes an illegitimate direction. not only whole villages, but even whole districts, have in this way acquired a bad reputation for robbery, the manufacture of paper-money, and similar offences against the criminal law. in popular parlance, these localities are said to contain "people who play pranks" (narod shalit). i must, however, remark that, if i may judge by my own experience, these so-called "playful" tendencies are greatly exaggerated. though i have travelled hundreds of miles at night on lonely roads, i was never robbed or in any way molested. once, indeed, when travelling at night in a tarantass, i discovered on awaking that my driver was bending over me, and had introduced his hand into one of my pockets; but the incident ended without serious consequences. when i caught the delinquent hand, and demanded an explanation from the owner, he replied, in an apologetic, caressing tone, that the night was cold, and he wished to warm his fingers; and when i advised him to use for that purpose his own pockets rather than mine, he promised to act in future according to my advice. more than once, it is true, i believed that i was in danger of being attacked, but on every occasion my fears turned out to be unfounded, and sometimes the catastrophe was ludicrous rather than tragical. let the following serve as an illustration. i had occasion to traverse, in company with a russian friend, the country lying to the east of the river vetluga--a land of forest and morass, with here and there a patch of cultivation. the majority of the population are tcheremiss, a finnish tribe; but near the banks of the river there are villages of russian peasants, and these latter have the reputation of "playing pranks." when we were on the point of starting from kozmodemiansk a town on the bank of the volga, we received a visit from an officer of rural police, who painted in very sombre colours the habits and moral character--or, more properly, immoral character--of the people whose acquaintance we were about to make. he related with melodramatic gesticulation his encounters with malefactors belonging to the villages through which we had to pass, and ended the interview with a strong recommendation to us not to travel at night, and to keep at all times our eyes open and our revolver ready. the effect of his narrative was considerably diminished by the prominence of the moral, which was to the effect that there never had been a police-officer who had shown so much zeal, energy, and courage in the discharge of his duty as the worthy man before us. we considered it, however, advisable to remember his hint about keeping our eyes open. in spite of our intention of being very cautious, it was already dark when we arrived at the village which was to be our halting-place for the night, and it seemed at first as if we should be obliged to spend the night in the open air. the inhabitants had already retired to rest, and refused to open their doors to unknown travellers. at length an old woman, more hospitable than her neighbours, or more anxious to earn an honest penny, consented to let us pass the night in an outer apartment (seni), and this permission we gladly accepted. mindful of the warnings of the police officer, we barricaded the two doors and the window, and the precaution was evidently not superfluous, for almost as soon as the light was extinguished we could hear that an attempt was being made stealthily to effect an entrance. notwithstanding my efforts to remain awake, and on the watch, i at last fell asleep, and was suddenly aroused by some one grasping me tightly by the arm. instantly i sprang to my feet and endeavoured to close with my invisible assailant. in vain! he dexterously eluded my grasp, and i stumbled over my portmanteau, which was lying on the floor; but my prompt action revealed who the intruder was, by producing a wild flutter and a frantic cackling! before my companion could strike a light the mysterious attack was fully explained. the supposed midnight robber and possible assassin was simply a peaceable hen that had gone to roost on my arm, and, on finding her position unsteady, had dug her claws into what she mistook for a roosting-pole! when speaking of the peasantry of the north i have hitherto had in view the inhabitants of the provinces of old-novgorod, tver, yaroslavl, nizhni-novgorod, kostroma, kazan, and viatka, and i have founded my remarks chiefly on information collected on the spot. beyond this lies what may be called the far north. though i cannot profess to have the same personal acquaintance with the peasantry of that region, i may perhaps be allowed to insert here some information regarding them which i collected from various trustworthy sources. if we draw a wavy line eastward from a point a little to the north of st. petersburg, as is shown in the map facing page of this volume, we shall have between that line and the polar ocean what may be regarded as a distinct, peculiar region, differing in many respects from the rest of russia. throughout the whole of it the climate is very severe. for about half of the year the ground is covered by deep snow, and the rivers are frozen. by far the greater part of the land is occupied by forests of pine, fir, larch, and birch, or by vast, unfathomable morasses. the arable land and pasturage taken together form only about one and a half per cent, of the area. the population is scarce--little more than one to the english square mile--and settled chiefly along the banks of the rivers. the peasantry support themselves by fishing, hunting, felling and floating timber, preparing tar and charcoal, cattle-breeding, and, in the extreme north, breeding reindeer. these are their chief occupations, but the people do not entirely neglect agriculture. they make the most of their short summer by means of a peculiar and ingenious mode of farming, well adapted to the peculiar local conditions. the peasant knows of course nothing about agronomical chemistry, but he, as well as his forefathers, have observed that if wood be burnt on a field, and the ashes be mixed with the soil, a good harvest may be confidently expected. on this simple principle his system of farming is based. when spring comes round and the leaves begin to appear on the trees, a band of peasants, armed with their hatchets, proceed to some spot in the woods previously fixed upon. here they begin to make a clearing. this is no easy matter, for tree-felling is hard and tedious work; but the process does not take so much time as might be expected, for the workmen have been brought up to the trade, and wield their axes with marvellous dexterity. when they have felled all the trees, great and small, they return to their homes, and think no more about their clearing till the autumn, when they return, in order to strip the fallen trees of the branches, to pick out what they require for building purposes or firewood, and to pile up the remainder in heaps. the logs for building or firewood are dragged away by horses as soon as the first fall of snow has made a good slippery road, but the piles are allowed to remain till the following spring, when they are stirred up with long poles and ignited. the flames rapidly spread in all directions till they join together and form a gigantic bonfire, such as is never seen in more densely-populated countries. if the fire does its work properly, the whole of the space is covered with a layer of ashes; and when these have been slightly mixed with soil by means of a light plough, the seed is sown. on the field prepared in this original fashion is sown barley, rye, or flax, and the harvests, nearly always good, sometimes border on the miraculous. barley or rye may be expected to produce about sixfold in ordinary years, and they may produce as much as thirty-fold under peculiarly favourable circumstances. the fertility is, however, short-lived. if the soil is poor and stony, not more than two crops can be raised; if it is of a better quality, it may give tolerable harvests for six or seven successive years. in most countries this would be an absurdly expensive way of manuring, for wood is much too valuable a commodity to be used for such a purpose; but in this northern region the forests are boundless, and in the districts where there is no river or stream by which timber may be floated, the trees not used in this way rot from old age. under these circumstances the system is reasonable, but it must be admitted that it does not give a very large return for the amount of labour expended, and in bad seasons it gives almost no return at all. the other sources of revenue are scarcely less precarious. with his gun and a little parcel of provisions the peasant wanders about in the trackless forests, and too often returns after many days with a very light bag; or he starts in autumn for some distant lake, and comes back after five or six weeks with nothing better than perch and pike. sometimes he tries his luck at deep-sea fishing. in this case he starts in february--probably on foot--for kem, on the shore of the white sea, or perhaps for the more distant kola, situated on a small river which falls into the arctic ocean. there, in company with three or four comrades, he starts on a fishing cruise along the murman coast, or, it may be, off the coast of spitzbergen. his gains will depend on the amount caught, for it is a joint-venture; but in no case can they be very great, for three-fourths of the fish brought into port belongs to the owner of the craft and tackle. of the sum realised, he brings home perhaps only a small part, for he has a strong temptation to buy rum, tea, and other luxuries, which are very dear in those northern latitudes. if the fishing is good and he resists temptation, he may save as much as roubles--about pounds--and thereby live comfortably all winter; but if the fishing season is bad, he may find himself at the end of it not only with empty pockets, but in debt to the owner of the boat. this debt he may pay off, if he has a horse, by transporting the dried fish to kargopol, st. petersburg, or some other market. it is here in the far north that the ancient folk-lore--popular songs, stories, and fragments of epic poetry--has been best preserved; but this is a field on which i need not enter, for the reader can easily find all that he may desire to know on the subject in the brilliant writings of m. rambaud and the very interesting, conscientious works of the late mr. ralston,* which enjoy a high reputation in russia. * rambaud, "la russie epique," paris, ; ralston, "the songs of the russian people," london, ; and "russian folk-tales," london, . chapter viii the mir, or village community social and political importance of the mir--the mir and the family compared--theory of the communal system--practical deviations from the theory--the mir a good specimen of constitutional government of the extreme democratic type--the village assembly--female members--the elections--distribution of the communal land. when i had gained a clear notion of the family-life and occupations of the peasantry, i turned my attention to the constitution of the village. this was a subject which specially interested me, because i was aware that the mir is the most peculiar of russian institutions. long before visiting russia i had looked into haxthausen's celebrated work, by which the peculiarities of the russian village system were first made known to western europe, and during my stay in st. petersburg i had often been informed by intelligent, educated russians that the rural commune presented a practical solution of many difficult social problems with which the philosophers and statesmen of the west had long been vainly struggling. "the nations of the west"--such was the substance of innumerable discourses which i had heard--"are at present on the high-road to political and social anarchy, and england has the unenviable distinction of being foremost in the race. the natural increase of population, together with the expropriation of the small landholders by the great landed proprietors, has created a dangerous and ever-increasing proletariat--a great disorganised mass of human beings, without homes, without permanent domicile, without property of any kind, without any stake in the existing institutions. part of these gain a miserable pittance as agricultural labourers, and live in a condition infinitely worse than serfage. the others have been forever uprooted from the soil, and have collected in the large towns, where they earn a precarious living in the factories and workshops, or swell the ranks of the criminal classes. in england you have no longer a peasantry in the proper sense of the term, and unless some radical measures be very soon adopted, you will never be able to create such a class, for men who have been long exposed to the unwholesome influences of town life are physically and morally incapable of becoming agriculturists. "hitherto," the disquisition proceeded, "england has enjoyed, in consequence of her geographical position, her political freedom, and her vast natural deposits of coal and iron, a wholly exceptional position in the industrial world. fearing no competition, she has proclaimed the principles of free trade, and has inundated the world with her manufactures--using unscrupulously her powerful navy and all the other forces at her command for breaking down every barrier tending to check the flood sent forth from manchester and birmingham. in that way her hungry proletariat has been fed. but the industrial supremacy of england is drawing to a close. the nations have discovered the perfidious fallacy of free-trade principles, and are now learning to manufacture for their own wants, instead of paying england enormous sums to manufacture for them. very soon english goods will no longer find foreign markets, and how will the hungry proletariat then be fed? already the grain production of england is far from sufficient for the wants of the population, so that, even when the harvest is exceptionally abundant, enormous quantities of wheat are imported from all quarters of the globe. hitherto this grain has been paid for by the manufactured goods annually exported, but how will it be procured when these goods are no longer wanted by foreign consumers? and what then will the hungry proletariat do?"* * this passage was written, precisely as it stands, long before the fiscal question was raised by mr. chamberlain. it will be found in the first edition of this work, published in . (vol. i., pp. - .) this sombre picture of england's future had often been presented to me, and on nearly every occasion i had been assured that russia had been saved from these terrible evils by the rural commune--an institution which, in spite of its simplicity and incalculable utility, west europeans seemed utterly incapable of understanding and appreciating. the reader will now easily conceive with what interest i took to studying this wonderful institution, and with what energy i prosecuted my researches. an institution which professes to solve satisfactorily the most difficult social problems of the future is not to be met with every day, even in russia, which is specially rich in material for the student of social science. on my arrival at ivanofka my knowledge of the institution was of that vague, superficial kind which is commonly derived from men who are fonder of sweeping generalisations and rhetorical declamation than of serious, patient study of phenomena. i knew that the chief personage in a russian village is the selski starosta, or village elder, and that all important communal affairs are regulated by the selski skhod, or village assembly. further, i was aware that the land in the vicinity of the village belongs to the commune, and is distributed periodically among the members in such a way that every able-bodied peasant possesses a share sufficient, or nearly sufficient, for his maintenance. beyond this elementary information i knew little or nothing. my first attempt at extending my knowledge was not very successful. hoping that my friend ivan might be able to assist me, and knowing that the popular name for the commune is mir, which means also "the world," i put to him the direct, simple question, "what is the mir?" ivan was not easily disconcerted, but for once he looked puzzled, and stared at me vacantly. when i endeavoured to explain to him my question, he simply knitted his brows and scratched the back of his head. this latter movement is the russian peasant's method of accelerating cerebral action; but in the present instance it had no practical result. in spite of his efforts, ivan could not get much further than the "kak vam skazat'?" that is to say, "how am i to tell you?" it was not difficult to perceive that i had adopted an utterly false method of investigation, and a moment's reflection sufficed to show me the absurdity of my question. i had asked from an uneducated man a philosophical definition, instead of extracting from him material in the form of concrete facts, and constructing therefrom a definition for myself. these concrete facts ivan was both able and willing to supply; and as soon as i adopted a rational mode of questioning, i obtained from him all i wanted. the information he gave me, together with the results of much subsequent conversation and reading, i now propose to present to the reader in my own words. the peasant family of the old type is, as we have just seen, a kind of primitive association in which the members have nearly all things in common. the village may be roughly described as a primitive association on a larger scale. between these two social units there are many points of analogy. in both there are common interests and common responsibilities. in both there is a principal personage, who is in a certain sense ruler within and representative as regards the outside world: in the one case called khozain, or head of the household, and in the other starosta, or village elder. in both the authority of the ruler is limited: in the one case by the adult members of the family, and in the other by the heads of households. in both there is a certain amount of common property: in the one case the house and nearly all that it contains, and in the other the arable land and possibly a little pasturage. in both cases there is a certain amount of common responsibility: in the one case for all the debts, and in the other for all the taxes and communal obligations. and both are protected to a certain extent against the ordinary legal consequences of insolvency, for the family cannot be deprived of its house or necessary agricultural implements, and the commune cannot be deprived of its land, by importunate creditors. on the other hand, there are many important points of contrast. the commune is, of course, much larger than the family, and the mutual relations of its members are by no means so closely interwoven. the members of a family all farm together, and those of them who earn money from other sources are expected to put their savings into the common purse; whilst the households composing a commune farm independently, and pay into the common treasury only a certain fixed sum. from these brief remarks the reader will at once perceive that a russian village is something very different from a village in our sense of the term, and that the villagers are bound together by ties quite unknown to the english rural population. a family living in an english village has little reason to take an interest in the affairs of its neighbours. the isolation of the individual families is never quite perfect, for man, being a social animal, takes necessarily a certain interest in the affairs of those around him, and this social duty is sometimes fulfilled by the weaker sex with more zeal than is absolutely indispensable for the public welfare; but families may live for many years in the same village without ever becoming conscious of common interests. so long as the jones family do not commit any culpable breach of public order, such as putting obstructions on the highway or habitually setting their house on fire, their neighbour brown takes probably no interest in their affairs, and has no ground for interfering with their perfect liberty of action. amongst the families composing a russian village, such a state of isolation is impossible. the heads of households must often meet together and consult in the village assembly, and their daily occupation must be influenced by the communal decrees. they cannot begin to mow the hay or plough the fallow field until the village assembly has passed a resolution on the subject. if a peasant becomes a drunkard, or takes some equally efficient means to become insolvent, every family in the village has a right to complain, not merely in the interests of public morality, but from selfish motives, because all the families are collectively responsible for his taxes.* for the same reason no peasant can permanently leave the village without the consent of the commune, and this consent will not be granted until the applicant gives satisfactory security for the fulfilment of his actual and future liabilities. if a peasant wishes to go away for a short time, in order to work elsewhere, he must obtain a written permission, which serves him as a passport during his absence; and he may be recalled at any moment by a communal decree. in reality he is rarely recalled so long as he sends home regularly the full amount of his taxes--including the dues which he has to pay for the temporary passport--but sometimes the commune uses the power of recall for purposes of extortion. if it becomes known, for instance, that an absent member is receiving a good salary or otherwise making money, he may one day receive a formal order to return at once to his native village, but he is probably informed at the same time, unofficially, that his presence will be dispensed with if he will send to the commune a certain specified sum. the money thus sent is generally used by the commune for convivial purposes. ** * this common responsibility for the taxes was abolished in by the emperor, on the advice of m. witte, and the other communal fetters are being gradually relaxed. a peasant may now, if he wishes, cease to be a member of the commune altogether, as soon as he has defrayed all his outstanding obligations. ** with the recent relaxing of the communal fetters, referred to in the foregoing note, this abuse should disappear. in all countries the theory of government and administration differs considerably from the actual practice. nowhere is this difference greater than in russia, and in no russian institution is it greater than in the village commune. it is necessary, therefore, to know both theory and practice; and it is well to begin with the former, because it is the simpler of the two. when we have once thoroughly mastered the theory, it is easy to understand the deviations that are made to suit peculiar local conditions. according, then, to theory, all male peasants in every part of the empire are inscribed in census-lists, which form the basis of the direct taxation. these lists are revised at irregular intervals, and all males alive at the time of the "revision," from the newborn babe to the centenarian, are duly inscribed. each commune has a list of this kind, and pays to the government an annual sum proportionate to the number of names which the list contains, or, in popular language, according to the number of "revision souls." during the intervals between the revisions the financial authorities take no notice of the births and deaths. a commune which has a hundred male members at the time of the revision may have in a few years considerably more or considerably less than that number, but it has to pay taxes for a hundred members all the same until a new revision is made for the whole empire. now in russia, so far at least as the rural population is concerned, the payment of taxes is inseparably connected with the possession of land. every peasant who pays taxes is supposed to have a share of the land belonging to the commune. if the communal revision lists contain a hundred names, the communal land ought to be divided into a hundred shares, and each "revision soul" should enjoy his share in return for the taxes which he pays. the reader who has followed my explanations up to this point may naturally conclude that the taxes paid by the peasants are in reality a species of rent for the land which they enjoy. such a conclusion would not be altogether justified. when a man rents a bit of land he acts according to his own judgment, and makes a voluntary contract with the proprietor; but the russian peasant is obliged to pay his taxes whether he desires to enjoy land or not. the theory, therefore, that the taxes are simply the rent of the land will not bear even superficial examination. equally untenable is the theory that they are a species of land-tax. in any reasonable system of land-dues the yearly sum imposed bears some kind of proportion to the quantity and quality of the land enjoyed; but in russia it may be that the members of one commune possess six acres of bad land, and the members of the neighbouring commune seven acres of good land, and yet the taxes in both cases are the same. the truth is that the taxes are personal, and are calculated according to the number of male "souls," and the government does not take the trouble to inquire how the communal land is distributed. the commune has to pay into the imperial treasury a fixed yearly sum, according to the number of its "revision souls," and distributes the land among its members as it thinks fit. how, then, does the commune distribute the land? to this question it is impossible to reply in brief, general terms, because each commune acts as it pleases!* some act strictly according to the theory. these divide their land at the time of the revision into a number of portions or shares corresponding to the number of revision souls, and give to each family a number of shares corresponding to the number of revision souls which it contains. this is from the administrative point of view by far the simplest system. the census-list determines how much land each family will enjoy, and the existing tenures are disturbed only by the revisions which take place at irregular intervals.** but, on the other hand, this system has serious defects. the revision-list represents merely the numerical strength of the families, and the numerical strength is often not at all in proportion to the working power. let us suppose, for example, two families, each containing at the time of the revision five male members. according to the census-list these two families are equal, and ought to receive equal shares of the land; but in reality it may happen that the one contains a father in the prime of life and four able-bodies sons, whilst the other contains a widow and five little boys. the wants and working power of these two families are of course very different; and if the above system of distribution be applied, the man with four sons and a goodly supply of grandchildren will probably find that he has too little land, whilst the widow with her five little boys will find it difficult to cultivate the five shares alloted to her, and utterly impossible to pay the corresponding amount of taxation--for in all cases, it must be remembered, the communal burdens are distributed in the same proportion as the land. * a long list of the various systems of allotment to be found in individual communes in different parts of the country is given in the opening chapter of a valuable work by karelin, entitled "obshtchinnoye vladyenie v rossii" (st. petersburg, ). as my object is to convey to the reader merely a general idea of the institution, i refrain from confusing him by an enumeration of the endless divergencies from the original type. ** since eleven revisions have been made, the last in . the intervals varied from six to forty-one years. but why, it may be said, should the widow not accept provisionally the five shares, and let to others the part which she does not require? the balance of rent after payment of the taxes might help her to bring up her young family. so it seems to one acquainted only with the rural economy of england, where land is scarce, and always gives a revenue more than sufficient to defray the taxes. but in russia the possession of a share of communal land is often not a privilege, but a burden. in some communes the land is so poor and abundant that it cannot be let at any price. in others the soil will repay cultivation, but a fair rent will not suffice to pay the taxes and dues. to obviate these inconvenient results of the simpler system, many communes have adopted the expedient of allotting the land, not according to the number of revision souls, but according to the working power of the families. thus, in the instance above supposed, the widow would receive perhaps two shares, and the large household, containing five workers, would receive perhaps seven or eight. since the breaking-up of the large families, such inequality as i have supposed is, of course, rare; but inequality of a less extreme kind does still occur, and justifies a departure from the system of allotment according to the revision-lists. even if the allotment be fair and equitable at the time of the revision, it may soon become unfair and burdensome by the natural fluctuations of the population. births and deaths may in the course of a very few years entirely alter the relative working power of the various families. the sons of the widow may grow up to manhood, whilst two or three able-bodied members of the other family may be cut off by an epidemic. thus, long before a new revision takes place, the distribution of the land may be no longer in accordance with the wants and capacities of the various families composing the commune. to correct this, various expedients are employed. some communes transfer particular lots from one family to another, as circumstances demand; whilst others make from time to time, during the intervals between the revisions, a complete redistribution and reallotment of the land. of these two systems the former is now more frequently employed. the system of allotment adopted depends entirely on the will of the particular commune. in this respect the communes enjoy the most complete autonomy, and no peasant ever dreams of appealing against a communal decree.* the higher authorities not only abstain from all interference in the allotment of the communal lands, but remain in profound ignorance as to which system the communes habitually adopt. though the imperial administration has a most voracious appetite for symmetrically constructed statistical tables--many of them formed chiefly out of materials supplied by the mysterious inner consciousness of the subordinate officials--no attempt has yet been made, so far as i know, to collect statistical data which might throw light on this important subject. in spite of the systematic and persistent efforts of the centralised bureaucracy to regulate minutely all departments of the national life, the rural communes, which contain about five-sixths of the population, remain in many respects entirely beyond its influence, and even beyond its sphere of vision! but let not the reader be astonished overmuch. he will learn in time that russia is the land of paradoxes; and meanwhile he is about to receive a still more startling bit of information. in "the great stronghold of caesarian despotism and centralised bureaucracy," these village communes, containing about five-sixths of the population, are capital specimens of representative constitutional government of the extreme democratic type! * this has been somewhat modified by recent legislation. according to the emancipation law of , redistribution of the land could take place at any time provided it was voted by a majority of two-thirds at the village assembly. by a law of redistribution cannot take place oftener than once in twelve years, and must receive the sanction of certain local authorities. when i say that the rural commune is a good specimen of constitutional government, i use the phrase in the english, and not in the continental sense. in the continental languages a constitutional regime implies the existence of a long, formal document, in which the functions of the various institutions, the powers of the various authorities, and the methods of procedure are carefully defined. such a document was never heard of in russian village communes, except those belonging to the imperial domains, and the special legislation which formerly regulated their affairs was repealed at the time of the emancipation. at the present day the constitution of all the village communes is of the english type--a body of unwritten, traditional conceptions, which have grown up and modified themselves under the influence of ever-changing practical necessity. no doubt certain definitions of the functions and mutual relations of the communal authorities might be extracted from the emancipation law and subsequent official documents, but as a rule neither the village elder nor the members of the village assembly ever heard of such definitions; and yet every peasant knows, as if by instinct, what each of these authorities can do and cannot do. the commune is, in fact, a living institution, whose spontaneous vitality enables it to dispense with the assistance and guidance of the written law, and its constitution is thoroughly democratic. the elder represents merely the executive power. the real authority resides in the assembly, of which all heads of households are members.* * an attempt was made by alexander iii. in to bring the rural communes under supervision and control by the appointment of rural officials called zemskiye natchalniki. of this so-called reform i shall have occasion to speak later. the simple procedure, or rather the absence of all formal procedure, at the assemblies, illustrates admirably the essentially practical character of the institution. the meetings are held in the open air, because in the village there is no building--except the church, which can be used only for religious purposes--large enough to contain all the members; and they almost always take place on sundays or holidays, when the peasants have plenty of leisure. any open space may serve as a forum. the discussions are occasionally very animated, but there is rarely any attempt at speech-making. if any young member should show an inclination to indulge in oratory, he is sure to be unceremoniously interrupted by some of the older members, who have never any sympathy with fine talking. the assemblage has the appearance of a crowd of people who have accidentally come together and are discussing in little groups subjects of local interest. gradually some one group, containing two or three peasants who have more moral influence than their fellows, attracts the others, and the discussion becomes general. two or more peasants may speak at a time, and interrupt each other freely--using plain, unvarnished language, not at all parliamentary--and the discussion may become a confused, unintelligible din; but at the moment when the spectator imagines that the consultation is about to be transformed into a free fight, the tumult spontaneously subsides, or perhaps a general roar of laughter announces that some one has been successfully hit by a strong argumentum ad hominem, or biting personal remark. in any case there is no danger of the disputants coming to blows. no class of men in the world are more good-natured and pacific than the russian peasantry. when sober they never fight, and even when under the influence of alcohol they are more likely to be violently affectionate than disagreeably quarrelsome. if two of them take to drinking together, the probability is that in a few minutes, though they may never have seen each other before, they will be expressing in very strong terms their mutual regard and affection, confirming their words with an occasional friendly embrace. theoretically speaking, the village parliament has a speaker, in the person of the village elder. the word speaker is etymologically less objectionable than the term president, for the personage in question never sits down, but mingles in the crowd like the ordinary members. objection may be taken to the word on the ground that the elder speaks much less than many other members, but this may likewise be said of the speaker of the house of commons. whatever we may call him, the elder is officially the principal personage in the crowd, and wears the insignia of office in the form of a small medal suspended from his neck by a thin brass chain. his duties, however, are extremely light. to call to order those who interrupt the discussion is no part of his functions. if he calls an honourable member "durak" (blockhead), or interrupts an orator with a laconic "moltchi!" (hold your tongue!), he does so in virtue of no special prerogative, but simply in accordance with a time-honoured privilege, which is equally enjoyed by all present, and may be employed with impunity against himself. indeed, it may be said in general that the phraseology and the procedure are not subjected to any strict rules. the elder comes prominently forward only when it is necessary to take the sense of the meeting. on such occasions he may stand back a little from the crowd and say, "well, orthodox, have you decided so?" and the crowd will probably shout, "ladno! ladno!" that is to say, "agreed! agreed!" communal measures are generally carried in this way by acclamation; but it sometimes happens that there is such a diversity of opinion that it is difficult to tell which of the two parties has a majority. in this case the elder requests the one party to stand to the right and the other to the left. the two groups are then counted, and the minority submits, for no one ever dreams of opposing openly the will of the mir. during the reign of nicholas i. an attempt was made to regulate by the written law the procedure of village assemblies amongst the peasantry of the state domains, and among other reforms voting by ballot was introduced; but the new custom never struck root. the peasants did not regard with favour the new method, and persisted in calling it, contemptuously, "playing at marbles." here, again, we have one of those wonderful and apparently anomalous facts which frequently meet the student of russian affairs: the emperor nicholas i., the incarnation of autocracy and the champion of the reactionary party throughout europe, forces the ballot-box, the ingenious invention of extreme radicals, on several millions of his subjects! in the northern provinces, where a considerable portion of the male population is always absent, the village assembly generally includes a good many female members. these are women who, on account of the absence or death of their husbands, happen to be for the moment heads of households. as such they are entitled to be present, and their right to take part in the deliberations is never called in question. in matters affecting the general welfare of the commune they rarely speak, and if they do venture to enounce an opinion on such occasions they have little chance of commanding attention, for the russian peasantry are as yet little imbued with the modern doctrines of female equality, and express their opinion of female intelligence by the homely adage: "the hair is long, but the mind is short." according to one proverb, seven women have collectively but one soul, and, according to a still more ungallant popular saying, women have no souls at all, but only a vapour. woman, therefore, as woman, is not deserving of much consideration, but a particular woman, as head of a household, is entitled to speak on all questions directly affecting the household under her care. if, for instance, it be proposed to increase or diminish her household's share of the land and the burdens, she will be allowed to speak freely on the subject, and even to indulge in personal invective against her male opponents. she thereby exposes herself, it is true, to uncomplimentary remarks; but any which she happens to receive she is pretty sure to repay with interest--referring, perhaps, with pertinent virulence to the domestic affairs of those who attack her. and when argument and invective fail, she can try the effect of pathetic appeal, supported by copious tears. as the village assembly is really a representative institution in the full sense of the term, it reflects faithfully the good and the bad qualities of the rural population. its decisions are therefore usually characterised by plain, practical common sense, but it is subject to occasional unfortunate aberrations in consequence of pernicious influences, chiefly of an alcoholic kind. an instance of this fact occurred during my sojourn at ivanofka. the question under discussion was whether a kabak, or gin-shop, should be established in the village. a trader from the district town desired to establish one, and offered to pay to the commune a yearly sum for the necessary permission. the more industrious, respectable members of the commune, backed by the whole female population, were strongly opposed to the project, knowing full well that a kabak would certainly lead to the ruin of more than one household; but the enterprising trader had strong arguments wherewith to seduce a large number of the members, and succeeded in obtaining a decision in his favour. the assembly discusses all matters affecting the communal welfare, and, as these matters have never been legally defined, its recognised competence is very wide. it fixes the time for making the hay, and the day for commencing the ploughing of the fallow field; it decrees what measures shall be employed against those who do not punctually pay their taxes; it decides whether a new member shall be admitted into the commune, and whether an old member shall be allowed to change his domicile; it gives or withholds permission to erect new buildings on the communal land; it prepares and signs all contracts which the commune makes with one of its own members or with a stranger; it interferes whenever it thinks necessary in the domestic affairs of its members; it elects the elder--as well as the communal tax-collector and watchman, where such offices exist--and the communal herd-boy; above all, it divides and allots the communal land among the members as it thinks fit. of all these various proceedings the english reader may naturally assume that the elections are the most noisy and exciting. in reality this is a mistake. the elections produce little excitement, for the simple reason that, as a rule, no one desires to be elected. once, it is said, a peasant who had been guilty of some misdemeanor was informed by an arbiter of the peace--a species of official of which i shall have occasion to speak in the sequel--that he would be no longer capable of filling any communal office; and instead of regretting this diminution of his civil rights, he bowed very low, and respectfully expressed his thanks for the new privilege which he had acquired. this anecdote may not be true, but it illustrates the undoubted fact that the russian peasant regards office as a burden rather than as an honour. there is no civic ambition in those little rural commonwealths, whilst the privilege of wearing a bronze medal, which commands no respect, and the reception of a few roubles as salary afford no adequate compensation for the trouble, annoyance, and responsibility which a village elder has to bear. the elections are therefore generally very tame and uninteresting. the following description may serve as an illustration: it is a sunday afternoon. the peasants, male and female, have turned out in sunday attire, and the bright costumes of the women help the sunshine to put a little rich colour into the scene, which is at ordinary times monotonously grey. slowly the crowd collects on the open space at the side of the church. all classes of the population are represented. on the extreme outskirts are a band of fair-haired, merry children--some of them standing or lying on the grass and gazing attentively at the proceedings, and others running about and amusing themselves. close to these stand a group of young girls, convulsed with half-suppressed laughter. the cause of their merriment is a youth of some seventeen summers, evidently the wag of the village, who stands beside them with an accordion in his hand, and relates to them in a half-whisper how he is about to be elected elder, and what mad pranks he will play in that capacity. when one of the girls happens to laugh outright, the matrons who are standing near turn round and scowl; and one of them, stepping forward, orders the offender, in a tone of authority, to go home at once if she cannot behave herself. crestfallen, the culprit retires, and the youth who is the cause of the merriment makes the incident the subject of a new joke. meanwhile the deliberations have begun. the majority of the members are chatting together, or looking at a little group composed of three peasants and a woman, who are standing a little apart from the others. here alone the matter in hand is being really discussed. the woman is explaining, with tears in her eyes, and with a vast amount of useless repetition, that her "old man," who is elder for the time being, is very ill, and cannot fulfil his duties. "but he has not yet served a year, and he'll get better," remarks one peasant, evidently the youngest of the little group. "who knows?" replies the woman, sobbing. "it is the will of god, but i don't believe that he'll ever put his foot to the ground again. the feldsher has been four times to see him, and the doctor himself came once, and said that he must be brought to the hospital." "and why has he not been taken there?" "how could he be taken? who is to carry him? do you think he's a baby? the hospital is forty versts off. if you put him in a cart he would die before he had gone a verst. and then, who knows what they do with people in the hospital?" this last question contained probably the true reason why the doctor's orders had been disobeyed. "very well, that's enough; hold your tongue," says the grey-beard of the little group to the woman; and then, turning to the other peasants, remarks, "there is nothing to be done. the stanovoi [officer of rural police] will be here one of these days, and will make a row again if we don't elect a new elder. whom shall we choose?" as soon as this question is asked several peasants look down to the ground, or try in some other way to avoid attracting attention, lest their names should be suggested. when the silence has continued a minute or two, the greybeard says, "there is alexei ivanof; he has not served yet!" "yes, yes, alexei ivanof!" shout half-a-dozen voices, belonging probably to peasants who fear they may be elected. alexei protests in the strongest terms. he cannot say that he is ill, because his big ruddy face would give him the lie direct, but he finds half-a-dozen other reasons why he should not be chosen, and accordingly requests to be excused. but his protestations are not listened to, and the proceedings terminate. a new village elder has been duly elected. far more important than the elections is the redistribution of the communal land. it can matter but little to the head of a household how the elections go, provided he himself is not chosen. he can accept with perfect equanimity alexei, or ivan, or nikolai, because the office-bearers have very little influence in communal affairs. but he cannot remain a passive, indifferent spectator when the division and allotment of the land come to be discussed, for the material welfare of every household depends to a great extent on the amount of land and of burdens which it receives. in the southern provinces, where the soil is fertile, and the taxes do not exceed the normal rent, the process of division and allotment is comparatively simple. here each peasant desires to get as much land as possible, and consequently each household demands all the land to which it is entitled--that is to say, a number of shares equal to the number of its members inscribed in the last revision list. the assembly has therefore no difficult questions to decide. the communal revision list determines the number of shares into which the land must be divided, and the number of shares to be allotted to each family. the only difficulty likely to arise is as to which particular shares a particular family shall receive, and this difficulty is commonly obviated by the custom of drawing lots. there may be, it is true, some difference of opinion as to when a redistribution should be made, but this question is easily decided by a vote of the assembly. very different is the process of division and allotment in many communes of the northern provinces. here the soil is often very unfertile and the taxes exceed the normal rent, and consequently it may happen that the peasants strive to have as little land as possible. in these cases such scenes as the following may occur: ivan is being asked how many shares of the communal land he will take, and replies in a slow, contemplative way, "i have two sons, and there is myself, so i'll take three shares, or somewhat less, if it is your pleasure." "less!" exclaims a middle-aged peasant, who is not the village elder, but merely an influential member, and takes the leading part in the proceedings. "you talk nonsense. your two sons are already old enough to help you, and soon they may get married, and so bring you two new female labourers." "my eldest son," explains ivan, "always works in moscow, and the other often leaves me in summer." "but they both send or bring home money, and when they get married, the wives will remain with you." "god knows what will be," replies ivan, passing over in silence the first part of his opponent's remark. "who knows if they will marry?" "you can easily arrange that!" "that i cannot do. the times are changed now. the young people do as they wish, and when they do get married they all wish to have houses of their own. three shares will be heavy enough for me!" "no, no. if they wish to separate from you, they will take some land from you. you must take at least four. the old wives there who have little children cannot take shares according to the number of souls." "he is a rich muzhik!" says a voice in the crowd. "lay on him five souls!" (that is to say, give him five shares of the land and of the burdens). "five souls i cannot! by god, i cannot!" "very well, you shall have four," says the leading spirit to ivan; and then, turning to the crowd, inquires, "shall it be so?" "four! four!" murmurs the crowd; and the question is settled. next comes one of the old wives just referred to. her husband is a permanent invalid, and she has three little boys, only one of whom is old enough for field labour. if the number of souls were taken as the basis of distribution, she would receive four shares; but she would never be able to pay four shares of the communal burdens. she must therefore receive less than that amount. when asked how many she will take, she replies with downcast eyes, "as the mir decides, so be it!" "then you must take three." "what do you say, little father?" cries the woman, throwing off suddenly her air of submissive obedience. "do you hear that, ye orthodox? they want to lay upon me three souls! was such a thing ever heard of? since st. peter's day my husband has been bedridden--bewitched, it seems, for nothing does him good. he cannot put a foot to the ground--all the same as if he were dead; only he eats bread!" "you talk nonsense," says a neighbour; "he was in the kabak [gin-shop] last week." "and you!" retorts the woman, wandering from the subject in hand; "what did you do last parish fete? was it not you who got drunk and beat your wife till she roused the whole village with her shrieking? and no further gone than last sunday--pfu!" "listen!" says the old man, sternly cutting short the torrent of invective. "you must take at least two shares and a half. if you cannot manage it yourself, you can get some one to help you." "how can that be? where am i to get the money to pay a labourer?" asks the woman, with much wailing and a flood of tears. "have pity, ye orthodox, on the poor orphans! god will reward you!" and so on, and so on. i need not worry the reader with a further description of these scenes, which are always very long and sometimes violent. all present are deeply interested, for the allotment of the land is by far the most important event in russian peasant life, and the arrangement cannot be made without endless talking and discussion. after the number of shares for each family has been decided, the distribution of the lots gives rise to new difficulties. the families who have plentifully manured their land strive to get back their old lots, and the commune respects their claims so far as these are consistent with the new arrangement; but often it happens that it is impossible to conciliate private rights and communal interests, and in such cases the former are sacrificed in a way that would not be tolerated by men of anglo-saxon race. this leads, however, to no serious consequences. the peasants are accustomed to work together in this way, to make concessions for the communal welfare, and to bow unreservedly to the will of the mir. i know of many instances where the peasants have set at defiance the authority of the police, of the provincial governor, and of the central government itself, but i have never heard of any instance where the will of the mir was openly opposed by one of its members. in the preceding pages i have repeatedly spoken about "shares of the communal land." to prevent misconception i must explain carefully what this expression means. a share does not mean simply a plot or parcel of land; on the contrary, it always contains at least four, and may contain a large number of distinct plots. we have here a new point of difference between the russian village and the villages of western europe. communal land in russia is of three kinds: the land on which the village is built, the arable land, and the meadow or hay-field, if the village is fortunate enough to possess one. on the first of these each family possesses a house and garden, which are the hereditary property of the family, and are never affected by the periodical redistributions. the other two kinds are both subject to redistribution, but on somewhat different principles. the whole of the communal arable land is first of all divided into three fields, to suit the triennial rotation of crops already described, and each field is divided into a number of long narrow strips--corresponding to the number of male members in the commune--as nearly as possible equal to each other in area and quality. sometimes it is necessary to divide the field into several portions, according to the quality of the soil, and then to subdivide each of these portions into the requisite number of strips. thus in all cases every household possesses at least one strip in each field; and in those cases where subdivision is necessary, every household possesses a strip in each of the portions into which the field is subdivided. it often happens, therefore, that the strips are very narrow, and the portions belonging to each family very numerous. strips six feet wide are by no means rare. in villages of the province of moscow, regarding which i have special information, they varied in width from to yards, with an average of yards. of these narrow strips a household may possess as many as thirty in a single field! the complicated process of division and subdivision is accomplished by the peasants themselves, with the aid of simple measuring-rods, and the accuracy of the result is truly marvellous. the meadow, which is reserved for the production of hay, is divided into the same number of shares as the arable land. there, however, the division and distribution take place, not at irregular intervals, but annually. every year, on a day fixed by the assembly, the villagers proceed in a body to this part of their property, and divide it into the requisite number of portions. lots are then cast, and each family at once mows the portion allotted to it. in some communes the meadow is mown by all the peasants in common, and the hay afterwards distributed by lot among the families; but this system is by no means so frequently used. as the whole of the communal land thus resembles to some extent a big farm, it is necessary to make certain rules concerning cultivation. a family may sow what it likes in the land allotted to it, but all families must at least conform to the accepted system of rotation. in like manner, a family cannot begin the autumn ploughing before the appointed time, because it would thereby interfere with the rights of the other families, who use the fallow field as pasturage. it is not a little strange that this primitive system of land tenure should have succeeded in living into the twentieth century, and still more remarkable that the institution of which it forms an essential part should be regarded by many intelligent people as one of the great institutions of the future, and almost as a panacea for social and political evils. the explanation of these facts will form the subject of the next chapter. chapter ix how the commune has been preserved, and what it is to effect in the future sweeping reforms after the crimean war--protest against the laissez faire principle--fear of the proletariat--english and russian methods of legislation contrasted--sanguine expectations--evil consequences of the communal system--the commune of the future--proletariat of the towns--the present state of things merely temporary. the reader is probably aware that immediately after the crimean war russia was subjected to a series of sweeping reforms, including the emancipation of the serfs and the creation of a new system of local self-government, and he may naturally wonder how it came to pass that a curious, primitive institution like the rural commune succeeded in weathering the bureaucratic hurricane. this strange phenomena i now proceed to explain, partly because the subject is in itself interesting, and partly because i hope thereby to throw some light on the peculiar intellectual condition of the russian educated classes. when it became evident, in , that the serfs were about to be emancipated, it was at first pretty generally supposed that the rural commune would be entirely abolished, or at least radically modified. at that time many russians were enthusiastic, indiscriminate admirers of english institutions, and believed, in common with the orthodox school of political economists, that england had acquired her commercial and industrial superiority by adopting the principle of individual liberty and unrestricted competition, or, as french writers term it, the "laissez faire" principle. this principle is plainly inconsistent with the rural commune, which compels the peasantry to possess land, prevents an enterprising peasant from acquiring the land of his less enterprising neighbours, and places very considerable restrictions on the freedom of action of the individual members. accordingly it was assumed that the rural commune, being inconsistent with the modern spirit of progress, would find no place in the new regime of liberty which was about to be inaugurated. no sooner had these ideas been announced in the press than they called forth strenuous protests. in the crowd of protesters were two well-defined groups. on the one hand there were the so-called slavophils, a small band of patriotic, highly educated moscovites, who were strongly disposed to admire everything specifically russian, and who habitually refused to bow the knee to the wisdom of western europe. these gentlemen, in a special organ which they had recently founded, pointed out to their countrymen that the commune was a venerable and peculiarly russian institution, which had mitigated in the past the baneful influence of serfage, and would certainly in the future confer inestimable benefits on the emancipated peasantry. the other group was animated by a very different spirit. they had no sympathy with national peculiarities, and no reverence for hoary antiquity. that the commune was specifically russian or slavonic, and a remnant of primitive times, was in their eyes anything but a recommendation in its favour. cosmopolitan in their tendencies, and absolutely free from all archaeological sentimentality, they regarded the institution from the purely utilitarian point of view. they agreed, however, with the slavophils in thinking that its preservation would have a beneficial influence on the material and moral welfare of the peasantry. for the sake of convenience it is necessary to designate this latter group by some definite name, but i confess i have some difficulty in making a choice. i do not wish to call these gentlemen socialists, because many people habitually and involuntarily attach a stigma to the word, and believe that all to whom the term is applied must be first-cousins to the petroleuses. to avoid misconceptions of this kind, it will be well to designate them simply by the organ which most ably represented their views, and to call them the adherents of the contemporary. the slavophils and the adherents of the contemporary, though differing widely from each other in many respects, had the same immediate object in view, and accordingly worked together. with great ingenuity they contended that the communal system of land tenure had much greater advantages, and was attended with much fewer inconveniences, than people generally supposed. but they did not confine themselves to these immediate practical advantages, which had very little interest for the general reader. the writers in the contemporary explained that the importance of the rural commune lies, not in its actual condition, but in its capabilities of development, and they drew, with prophetic eye, most attractive pictures of the happy rural commune of the future. let me give here, as an illustration, one of these prophetic descriptions: "thanks to the spread of primary and technical education the peasants have become well acquainted with the science of agriculture, and are always ready to undertake in common the necessary improvements. they no longer exhaust the soil by exporting the grain, but sell merely certain technical products containing no mineral ingredients. for this purpose the communes possess distilleries, starch-works, and the like, and the soil thereby retains its original fertility. the scarcity induced by the natural increase of the population is counteracted by improved methods of cultivation. if the chinese, who know nothing of natural science, have succeeded by purely empirical methods in perfecting agriculture to such an extent that a whole family can support itself on a few square yards of land, what may not the european do with the help of chemistry, botanical physiology, and the other natural sciences?" coming back from the possibilities of the future to the actualities of the present, these ingenious and eloquent writers pointed out that in the rural commune, russia possessed a sure preventive against the greatest evil of west-european social organisation, the proletariat. here the slavophils could strike in with their favourite refrain about the rotten social condition of western europe; and their temporary allies, though they habitually scoffed at the slavophil jeremiads, had no reason for the moment to contradict them. very soon the proletariat became, for the educated classes, a species of bugbear, and the reading public were converted to the doctrine that the communal institutions should be preserved as a means of excluding the monster from russia. this fear of what is vaguely termed the proletariat is still frequently to be met with in russia, and i have often taken pains to discover precisely what is meant by the term. i cannot, however, say that my efforts have been completely successful. the monster seems to be as vague and shadowy as the awful forms which milton placed at the gate of the infernal regions. at one moment he seems to be simply our old enemy pauperism, but when we approach a little nearer we find that he expands to colossal dimensions, so as to include all who do not possess inalienable landed property. in short, he turns out to be, on examination, as vague and undefinable as a good bugbear ought to be; and this vagueness contributed probably not a little to his success. the influence which the idea of the proletariat exercised on the public mind and on the legislation at the time of the emancipation is a very notable fact, and well worthy of attention, because it helps to illustrate a point of difference between russians and englishmen. englishmen are, as a rule, too much occupied with the multifarious concerns of the present to look much ahead into the distant future. we profess, indeed, to regard with horror the maxim, apres nous le deluge! and we should probably annihilate with our virtuous indignation any one who should boldly profess the principle. and yet we often act almost as if we were really partisans of that heartless creed. when called upon to consider the interests of the future generations, we declared that "sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof," and stigmatise as visionaries and dreamers all who seek to withdraw our attention from the present. a modern cassandra who confidently predicts the near exhaustion of our coal-fields, or graphically describes a crushing national disaster that must some day overtake us, may attract some public attention; but when we learn that the misfortune is not to take place in our time, we placidly remark that future generations must take care of themselves, and that we cannot reasonably be expected to bear their burdens. when we are obliged to legislate, we proceed in a cautious, tentative way, and are quite satisfied with any homely, simple remedies that common sense and experience may suggest, without taking the trouble to inquire whether the remedy adopted is in accordance with scientific theories. in short, there is a certain truth in those "famous prophetick pictures" spoken of by stillingfleet, which "represent the fate of england by a mole, a creature blind and busy, continually working under ground." in russia we find the opposite extreme. there reformers have been trained, not in the arena of practical politics, but in the school of political speculation. as soon, therefore, as they begin to examine any simple matter with a view to legislation, it at once becomes a "question," and flies up into the region of political and social science. whilst we have been groping along an unexplored path, the russians have--at least in recent times--been constantly mapping out, with the help of foreign experience, the country that lay before them, and advancing with gigantic strides according to the newest political theories. men trained in this way cannot rest satisfied with homely remedies which merely alleviate the evils of the moment. they wish to "tear up evil by the roots," and to legislate for future generations as well as for themselves. this tendency was peculiarly strong at the time of the emancipation. the educated classes were profoundly convinced that the system of nicholas i. had been a mistake, and that a new and brighter era was about to dawn upon the country. everything had to be reformed. the whole social and political edifice had to be reconstructed on entirely new principles. let us imagine the position of a man who, having no practical acquaintance with building, suddenly finds himself called upon to construct a large house, containing all the newest appliances for convenience and comfort. what will his first step be? probably he will proceed at once to study the latest authorities on architecture and construction, and when he has mastered the general principles he will come down gradually to the details. this is precisely what the russians did when they found themselves called upon to reconstruct the political and social edifice. they eagerly consulted the most recent english, french, and german writers on social and political science, and here it was that they made the acquaintance of the proletariat. people who read books of travel without ever leaving their own country are very apt to acquire exaggerated notions regarding the hardships and dangers of uncivilised life. they read about savage tribes, daring robbers, ferocious wild beasts, poisonous snakes, deadly fevers, and the like; and they cannot but wonder how a human being can exist for a week among such dangers. but if they happen thereafter to visit the countries described, they discover to their surprise that, though the descriptions may not have been exaggerated, life under such conditions is much easier than they supposed. now the russians who read about the proletariat were very much like the people who remain at home and devour books of travel. they gained exaggerated notions, and learned to fear the proletariat much more than we do, who habitually live in the midst of it. of course it is quite possible that their view of the subject is truer than ours, and that we may some day, like the people who live tranquilly on the slopes of a volcano, be rudely awakened from our fancied security. but this is an entirely different question. i am at present not endeavouring to justify our habitual callousness with regard to social dangers, but simply seeking to explain why the russians, who have little or no practical acquaintance with pauperism, should have taken such elaborate precautions against it. but how can the preservation of the communal institutions lead to this "consummation devoutly to be wished," and how far are the precautions likely to be successful? those who have studied the mysteries of social science have generally come to the conclusion that the proletariat has been formed chiefly by the expropriation of the peasantry or small land-holders, and that its formation might be prevented, or at least retarded, by any system of legislation which would secure the possession of land for the peasants and prevent them from being uprooted from the soil. now it must be admitted that the russian communal system is admirably adapted for this purpose. about one-half of the arable land has been reserved for the peasantry, and cannot be encroached on by the great landowners or the capitalists, and every adult peasant, roughly speaking, has a right to a share of this land. when i have said that the peasantry compose about five-sixths of the population, and that it is extremely difficult for a peasant to sever his connection with the rural commune, it will be at once evident that, if the theories of social philosophers are correct, and if the sanguine expectations entertained in many quarters regarding the permanence of the present communal institutions are destined to be realised, there is little or no danger of a numerous proletariat being formed, and the russians are justified in maintaining, as they often do, that they have successfully solved one of the most important and most difficult of social problems. but is there any reasonable chance of these sanguine expectations being realised? this is, doubtless, a most complicated and difficult question, but it cannot be shirked. however sceptical we may be with regard to social panaceas of all sorts, we cannot dismiss with a few hackneyed phrases a gigantic experiment in social science involving the material and moral welfare of many millions of human beings. on the other hand, i do not wish to exhaust the reader's patience by a long series of multifarious details and conflicting arguments. what i propose to do, therefore, is to state in a few words the conclusions at which i have arrived, after a careful study of the question in all its bearings, and to indicate in a general way how i have arrived at these conclusions. if russia were content to remain a purely agricultural country of the sleepy hollow type, and if her government were to devote all its energies to maintaining economic and social stagnation, the rural commune might perhaps prevent the formation of a large proletariat in the future, as it has tended to prevent it for centuries in the past. the periodical redistributions of the communal land would secure to every family a portion of the soil, and when the population became too dense, the evils arising from inordinate subdivision of the land might be obviated by a carefully regulated system of emigration to the outlying, thinly populated provinces. all this sounds very well in theory, but experience is proving that it cannot be carried out in practice. in russia, as in western europe, the struggle for life, even among the conservative agricultural classes, is becoming yearly more and more intense, and is producing both the desire and the necessity for greater freedom of individual character and effort, so that each man may make his way in the world according to the amount of his intelligence, energy, spirit of enterprise, and tenacity of purpose. whatever institutions tend to fetter the individual and maintain a dead level of mediocrity have little chance of subsisting for any great length of time, and it must be admitted that among such institutions the rural commune in its present form occupies a prominent place. all its members must possess, in principle if not always in practice, an equal share of the soil and must practice the same methods of agriculture, and when a certain inequality has been created by individual effort it is in great measure wiped out by a redistribution of the communal land. now, i am well aware that in practice the injustice and inconveniences of the system, being always tempered and corrected by ingenious compromises suggested by long experience, are not nearly so great as the mere theorist might naturally suppose; but they are, i believe, quite great enough to prevent the permanent maintenance of the institution, and already there are ominous indications of the coming change, as i shall explain more fully when i come to deal with the consequences of serf-emancipation. on the other hand there is no danger of a sudden, general abolition of the old system. though the law now permits the transition from communal to personal hereditary tenure, even the progressive enterprising peasants are slow to avail themselves of the permission; and the reason i once heard given for this conservative tendency is worth recording. a well-to-do peasant who had been in the habit of manuring his land better than his neighbours, and who was, consequently, a loser by the existing system, said to me: "of course i want to keep the allotment i have got. but if the land is never again to be divided my grandchildren may be beggars. we must not sin against those who are to come after us." this unexpected reply gave me food for reflection. surely those muzhiks who are so often accused of being brutally indifferent to moral obligations must have peculiar deep-rooted moral conceptions of their own which exercise a great influence on their daily life. a man who hesitates to sin against his grandchildren still unborn, though his conceptions of the meum and the tuum in the present may be occasionally a little confused, must possess somewhere deep down in his nature a secret fund of moral feeling of a very respectable kind. even among the educated classes in russia the way of looking at these matters is very different from ours. we should naturally feel inclined to applaud, encourage, and assist the peasants who show energy and initiative, and who try to rise above their fellows. to the russian this seems at once inexpedient and immoral. the success of the few, he explains, is always obtained at the expense of the many, and generally by means which the severe moralist cannot approve of. the rich peasants, for example, have gained their fortune and influence by demoralising and exploiting their weaker brethren, by committing all manner of illegalities, and by bribing the local authorities. hence they are styled miroyedy (commune-devourers) or kulaki (fists), or something equally uncomplimentary. once this view is adopted, it follows logically that the communal institutions, in so far as they form a barrier to the activity of such persons, ought to be carefully preserved. this idea underlies nearly all the arguments in favour of the commune, and explains why they are so popular. russians of all classes have, in fact, a leaning towards socialistic notions, and very little sympathy with our belief in individual initiative and unrestricted competition. even if it be admitted that the commune may effectually prevent the formation of an agricultural proletariat, the question is thereby only half answered. russia aspires to become a great industrial and commercial country, and accordingly her town population is rapidly augmenting. we have still to consider, then, how the commune affects the proletariat of the towns. in western europe the great centres of industry have uprooted from the soil and collected in the towns a great part of the rural population. those who yielded to this attractive influence severed all connection with their native villages, became unfit for field labour, and were transformed into artisans or factory-workers. in russia this transformation could not easily take place. the peasant might work during the greater part of his life in the towns, but he did not thereby sever his connection with his native village. he remained, whether he desired it or not, a member of the commune, possessing a share of the communal land, and liable for a share of the communal burdens. during his residence in the town his wife and family remained at home, and thither he himself sooner or later returned. in this way a class of hybrids--half-peasants, half-artisans--has been created, and the formation of a town proletariat has been greatly retarded. the existence of this hybrid class is commonly cited as a beneficent result of the communal institutions. the artisans and factory labourers, it is said, have thus always a home to which they can retire when thrown out of work or overtaken by old age, and their children are brought up in the country, instead of being reared among the debilitating influences of overcrowded cities. every common labourer has, in short, by this ingenious contrivance, some small capital and a country residence. in the present transitional state of russian society this peculiar arrangement is at once natural and convenient, but amidst its advantages it has many serious defects. the unnatural separation of the artisan from his wife and family leads to very undesirable results, well known to all who are familiar with the details of peasant life in the northern provinces. and whatever its advantages and defects may be, it cannot be permanently retained. at the present time native industry is still in its infancy. protected by the tariff from foreign competition, and too few in number to produce a strong competition among themselves, the existing factories can give to their owners a large revenue without any strenuous exertion. manufacturers can therefore allow themselves many little liberties, which would be quite inadmissible if the price of manufactured goods were lowered by brisk competition. ask a lancashire manufacturer if he could allow a large portion of his workers to go yearly to cornwall or caithness to mow a field of hay or reap a few acres of wheat or oats! and if russia is to make great industrial progress, the manufacturers of moscow, lodz, ivanovo, and shui will some day be as hard pressed as are those of bradford and manchester. the invariable tendency of modern industry, and the secret of its progress, is the ever-increasing division of labour; and how can this principle be applied if the artisans insist on remaining agriculturists? the interests of agriculture, too, are opposed to the old system. agriculture cannot be expected to make progress, or even to be tolerably productive, if it is left in great measure to women and children. at present it is not desirable that the link which binds the factory-worker or artisan with the village should be at once severed, for in the neighbourhood of the large factories there is often no proper accommodation for the families of the workers, and agriculture, as at present practised, can be carried on successfully though the head of the household happens to be absent. but the system must be regarded as simply temporary, and the disruption of large families--a phenomenon of which i have already spoken--renders its application more and more difficult. chapter x finnish and tartar villages a finnish tribe--finnish villages--various stages of russification--finnish women--finnish religions--method of "laying" ghosts--curious mixture of christianity and paganism--conversion of the finns--a tartar village--a russian peasant's conception of mahometanism--a mahometan's view of christianity--propaganda--the russian colonist--migrations of peoples during the dark ages. when talking one day with a landed proprietor who lived near ivanofka, i accidentally discovered that in a district at some distance to the northeast there were certain villages the inhabitants of which did not understand russian, and habitually used a peculiar language of their own. with an illogical hastiness worthy of a genuine ethnologist, i at once assumed that these must be the remnants of some aboriginal race. "des aborigenes!" i exclaimed, unable to recall the russian equivalent for the term, and knowing that my friend understood french. "doubtless the remains of some ancient race who formerly held the country, and are now rapidly disappearing. have you any aborigines protection society in this part of the world?" my friend had evidently great difficulty in imagining what an aborigines protection society could be, and promptly assured me that there was nothing of the kind in russia. on being told that such a society might render valuable services by protecting the weaker against the stronger race, and collecting important materials for the new science of social embryology, he looked thoroughly mystified. as to the new science, he had never heard of it, and as to protection, he thought that the inhabitants of the villages in question were quite capable of protecting themselves. "i could invent," he added, with a malicious smile, "a society for the protection of all peasants, but i am quite sure that the authorities would not allow me to carry out my idea." my ethnological curiosity was thoroughly aroused, and i endeavoured to awaken a similar feeling in my friend by hinting that we had at hand a promising field for discoveries which might immortalise the fortunate explorers; but my efforts were in vain. the old gentleman was a portly, indolent man, of phlegmatic temperament, who thought more of comfort than of immortality in the terrestrial sense of the term. to my proposal that we should start at once on an exploring expedition, he replied calmly that the distance was considerable, that the roads were muddy, and that there was nothing to be learned. the villages in question were very like other villages, and their inhabitants lived, to all intents and purposes, in the same way as their russian neighbours. if they had any secret peculiarities they would certainly not divulge them to a stranger, for they were notoriously silent, gloomy, morose, and uncommunicative. everything that was known about them, my friend assured me, might be communicated in a few words. they belonged to a finnish tribe called korelli, and had been transported to their present settlements in comparatively recent times. in answer to my questions as to how, when, and by whom they had been transported thither my informant replied that it had been the work of ivan the terrible. though i knew at that time little of russian history, i suspected that the last assertion was invented on the spur of the moment, in order to satisfy my troublesome curiosity, and accordingly i determined not to accept it without verification. the result showed how careful the traveller should be in accepting the testimony of "intelligent, well-informed natives." on further investigation i discovered, not only that the story about ivan the terrible was a pure invention--whether of my friend or of the popular imagination, which always uses heroic names as pegs on which to hang traditions, i know not--but also that my first theory was correct. these finnish peasants turned out to be a remnant of the aborigines, or at least of the oldest known inhabitants of the district. men of the same race, but bearing different tribal names, such as finns, korelli, tcheremiss, tchuvash, mordva, votyaks, permyaks, zyryanye, voguls, are to be found in considerable numbers all over the northern provinces, from the gulf of bothnia to western siberia, as well as in the provinces bordering the middle volga as far south as penza, simbirsk, and tamboff.* the russian peasants, who now compose the great mass of the population, are the intruders. * the semi-official "statesman's handbook for russia," published in , enumerates fourteen different tribes, with an aggregate of about , , souls, but these numbers must not be regarded as having any pretensions to accuracy. the best authorities differ widely in their estimates. i had long taken a deep interest in what learned germans call the volkerwanderung--that is to say, the migrations of peoples during the gradual dissolution of the roman empire, and it had often occurred to me that the most approved authorities, who had expended an infinite amount of learning on the subject, had not always taken the trouble to investigate the nature of the process. it is not enough to know that a race or tribe extended its dominions or changed its geographical position. we ought at the same time to inquire whether it expelled, exterminated, or absorbed the former inhabitants, and how the expulsion, extermination, or absorption was effected. now of these three processes, absorption may have been more frequent than is commonly supposed, and it seemed to me that in northern russia this process might be conveniently studied. a thousand years ago the whole of northern russia was peopled by finnish pagan tribes, and at the present day the greater part of it is occupied by peasants who speak the language of moscow, profess the orthodox faith, present in their physiognomy no striking peculiarities, and appear to the superficial observer pure russians. and we have no reason to suppose that the former inhabitants were expelled or exterminated, or that they gradually died out from contact with the civilisation and vices of a higher race. history records no wholesale finnish migrations like that of the kalmyks, and no war of extermination; and statistics prove that among the remnants of those primitive races the population increases as rapidly as among the russian peasantry.* from these facts i concluded that the finnish aborigines had been simply absorbed, or rather, were being absorbed, by the slavonic intruders. * this latter statement is made on the authority of popoff ("zyryanye i zyryanski krai," moscow, ) and tcheremshanski ("opisanie orenburgskoi gubernii," ufa, ). this conclusion has since been confirmed by observation. during my wanderings in these northern provinces i have found villages in every stage of russification. in one, everything seemed thoroughly finnish: the inhabitants had a reddish-olive skin, very high cheek-bones, obliquely set eyes, and a peculiar costume; none of the women, and very few of the men, could understand russian, and any russian who visited the place was regarded as a foreigner. in a second, there were already some russian inhabitants; the others had lost something of their pure finnish type, many of the men had discarded the old costume and spoke russian fluently, and a russian visitor was no longer shunned. in a third, the finnish type was still further weakened: all the men spoke russian, and nearly all the women understood it; the old male costume had entirely disappeared, and the old female costume was rapidly following it; while intermarriage with the russian population was no longer rare. in a fourth, intermarriage had almost completely done its work, and the old finnish element could be detected merely in certain peculiarities of physiognomy and pronunciation.* * one of the most common peculiarities of pronunciation is the substitution of the sound of ts for that of tch, which i found almost universal over a large area. the process of russification may be likewise observed in the manner of building the houses and in the methods of farming, which show plainly that the finnish races did not obtain rudimentary civilisation from the slavs. whence, then, was it derived? was it obtained from some other race, or is it indigenous? these are questions which i have no means of answering. a positivist poet--or if that be a contradiction in terms, let us say a positivist who wrote verses--once composed an appeal to the fair sex, beginning with the words: "pourquoi, o femmes, restez-vous en arriere?" the question might have been addressed to the women in these finnish villages. like their sisters in france, they are much more conservative than the men, and oppose much more stubbornly the russian influence. on the other hand, like women in general, when they do begin to change, they change more rapidly. this is seen especially in the matter of costume. the men adopt the russian costume very gradually; the women adopt it at once. as soon as a single woman gets a gaudy russian dress, every other woman in the village feels envious and impatient till she has done likewise. i remember once visiting a mordva village when this critical point had been reached, and a very characteristic incident occurred. in the preceding villages through which i had passed i had tried in vain to buy a female costume, and i again made the attempt. this time the result was very different. a few minutes after i had expressed my wish to purchase a costume, the house in which i was sitting was besieged by a great crowd of women, holding in their hands articles of wearing apparel. in order to make a selection i went out into the crowd, but the desire to find a purchaser was so general and so ardent that i was regularly mobbed. the women, shouting "kupi! kupi!" ("buy! buy!"), and struggling with each other to get near me, were so importunate that i had at last to take refuge in the house, to prevent my own costume from being torn to shreds. but even there i was not safe, for the women followed at my heels, and a considerable amount of good-natured violence had to be employed to expel the intruders. it is especially interesting to observe the transformation of nationality in the sphere of religious conceptions. the finns remained pagans long after the russians had become christians, but at the present time the whole population, from the eastern boundary of finland proper to the ural mountains, are officially described as members of the greek orthodox church. the manner in which this change of religion was effected is well worthy of attention. the old religion of the finnish tribes, if we may judge from the fragments which still remain, had, like the people themselves, a thoroughly practical, prosaic character. their theology consisted not of abstract dogmas, but merely of simple prescriptions for the ensuring of material welfare. even at the present day, in the districts not completely russified, their prayers are plain, unadorned requests for a good harvest, plenty of cattle, and the like, and are expressed in a tone of childlike familiarity that sounds strange in our ears. they make no attempt to veil their desires with mystic solemnity, but ask, in simple, straightforward fashion, that god should make the barley ripen and the cow calve successfully, that he should prevent their horses from being stolen, and that he should help them to gain money to pay their taxes. their religious ceremonies have, so far as i have been able to discover, no hidden mystical signification, and are for the most part rather magical rites for averting the influence of malicious spirits, or freeing themselves from the unwelcome visits of their departed relatives. for this latter purpose many even of those who are officially christians proceed at stated seasons to the graveyards and place an abundant supply of cooked food on the graves of their relations who have recently died, requesting the departed to accept this meal, and not to return to their old homes, where their presence is no longer desired. though more of the food is eaten at night by the village dogs than by the famished spirits, the custom is believed to have a powerful influence in preventing the dead from wandering about at night and frightening the living. if it be true, as i am inclined to believe, that tombstones were originally used for keeping the dead in their graves, then it must be admitted that in the matter of "laying" ghosts the finns have shown themselves much more humane than other races. it may, however, be suggested that in the original home of the finns--"le berceau de la race," as french ethnologists say--stones could not easily be procured, and that the custom of feeding the dead was adopted as a pis aller. the decision of the question must be left to those who know where the original home of the finns was. as the russian peasantry, knowing little or nothing of theology, and placing implicit confidence in rites and ceremonies, did not differ very widely from the pagan finns in the matter of religious conceptions, the friendly contact of the two races naturally led to a curious blending of the two religions. the russians adopted many customs from the finns, and the finns adopted still more from the russians. when yumala and the other finnish deities did not do as they were desired, their worshippers naturally applied for protection or assistance to the madonna and the "russian god." if their own traditional magic rites did not suffice to ward off evil influences, they naturally tried the effect of crossing themselves, as the russians do in moments of danger. all this may seem strange to us who have been taught from our earliest years that religion is something quite different from spells, charms, and incantations, and that of all the various religions in the world one alone is true, all the others being false. but we must remember that the finns have had a very different education. they do not distinguish religion from magic rites, and they have never been taught that other religions are less true than their own. for them the best religion is the one which contains the most potent spells, and they see no reason why less powerful religions should not be blended therewith. their deities are not jealous gods, and do not insist on having a monopoly of devotion; and in any case they cannot do much injury to those who have placed themselves under the protection of a more powerful divinity. this simple-minded eclecticism often produces a singular mixture of christianity and paganism. thus, for instance, at the harvest festivals, tchuvash peasants have been known to pray first to their own deities, and then to st. nicholas, the miracle-worker, who is the favourite saint of the russian peasantry. such dual worship is sometimes even recommended by the yomzi--a class of men who correspond to the medicine-men among the red indians--and the prayers are on these occasions couched in the most familiar terms. here is a specimen given by a russian who has specially studied the language and customs of this interesting people:* "look here, o nicholas-god! perhaps my neighbour, little michael, has been slandering me to you, or perhaps he will do so. if he does, don't believe him. i have done him no ill, and wish him none. he is a worthless boaster and a babbler. he does not really honour you, and merely plays the hypocrite. but i honour you from my heart; and, behold, i place a taper before you!" sometimes incidents occur which display a still more curious blending of the two religions. thus a tcheremiss, on one occasion, in consequence of a serious illness, sacrificed a young foal to our lady of kazan! * mr. zolotnitski, "tchuvasko-russki slovar," p. . though the finnish beliefs affected to some extent the russian peasantry, the russian faith ultimately prevailed. this can be explained without taking into consideration the inherent superiority of christianity over all forms of paganism. the finns had no organised priesthood, and consequently never offered a systematic opposition to the new faith; the russians, on the contrary, had a regular hierarchy in close alliance with the civil administration. in the principal villages christian churches were built, and some of the police-officers vied with the ecclesiastical officials in the work of making converts. at the same time there were other influences tending in the same direction. if a russian practised finnish superstitions he exposed himself to disagreeable consequences of a temporal kind; if, on the contrary, a finn adopted the christian religion, the temporal consequences that could result were all advantageous to him. many of the finns gradually became christians almost unconsciously. the ecclesiastical authorities were extremely moderate in their demands. they insisted on no religious knowledge, and merely demanded that the converts should be baptised. the converts, failing to understand the spiritual significance of the ceremony, commonly offered no resistance, so long as the immersion was performed in summer. so little repugnance, indeed, did they feel, that on some occasions, when a small reward was given to those who consented, some of the new converts wished the ceremony to be repeated several times. the chief objection to receiving the christian faith lay in the long and severe fasts imposed by the greek orthodox church; but this difficulty was overcome by assuming that they need not be strictly observed. at first, in some districts, it was popularly believed that the icons informed the russian priests against those who did not fast as the church prescribed; but experience gradually exploded this theory. some of the more prudent converts, however, to prevent all possible tale-telling, took the precaution of turning the face of the icon to the wall when prohibited meats were about to be eaten! this gradual conversion of the finnish tribes, effected without any intellectual revolution in the minds of the converts, had very important temporal consequences. community of faith led to intermarriage, and intermarriage led rapidly to the blending of the two races. if we compare a finnish village in any stage of russification with a tartar village, of which the inhabitants are mahometans, we cannot fail to be struck by the contrast. in the latter, though there may be many russians, there is no blending of the two races. between them religion has raised an impassable barrier. there are many villages in the eastern and north-eastern provinces of european russia which have been for generations half tartar and half russian, and the amalgamation of the two nationalities has not yet begun. near the one end stands the christian church, and near the other stands the little metchet, or mahometan house of prayer. the whole village forms one commune, with one village assembly and one village elder; but, socially, it is composed of two distinct communities, each possessing its peculiar customs and peculiar mode of life. the tartar may learn russian, but he does not on that account become russianised. it must not, however, be supposed that the two races are imbued with fanatical hatred towards each other. on the contrary, they live in perfect good-fellowship, elect as village elder sometimes a russian and sometimes a tartar, and discuss the communal affairs in the village assembly without reference to religious matters. i know one village where the good-fellowship went even a step farther: the christians determined to repair their church, and the mahometans helped them to transport wood for the purpose! all this tends to show that under a tolerably good government, which does not favour one race at the expense of the other, mahometan tartars and christian slavs can live peaceably together. the absence of fanaticism and of that proselytising zeal which is one of the most prolific sources of religious hatred, is to be explained by the peculiar religious conceptions of these peasants. in their minds religion and nationality are so closely allied as to be almost identical. the russian is, as it were, by nature a christian, and the tartar a mahometan; and it never occurs to any one in these villages to disturb the appointed order of nature. on this subject i had once an interesting conversation with a russian peasant who had been for some time living among tartars. in reply to my question as to what kind of people the tartars were, he replied laconically, "nitchevo"--that is to say, "nothing in particular"; and on being pressed for a more definite expression of opinion, he admitted that they were very good people indeed. "and what kind of faith have they?" i continued. "a good enough faith," was the prompt reply. "is it better than the faith of the molokanye?" the molokanye are russian sectarians--closely resembling scotch presbyterians--of whom i shall have more to say in the sequel. "of course it is better than the molokan faith." "indeed!" i exclaimed, endeavouring to conceal my astonishment at this strange judgment. "are the molokanye, then, very bad people?" "not at all. the molokanye are good and honest." "why, then, do you think their faith is so much worse than that of the mahometans?" "how shall i tell you?" the peasant here paused as if to collect his thoughts, and then proceeded slowly, "the tartars, you see, received their faith from god as they received the colour of their skins, but the molokanye are russians who have invented a faith out of their own heads!" this singular answer scarcely requires a commentary. as it would be absurd to try to make tartars change the colour of their skins, so it would be absurd to try to make them change their religion. besides this, such an attempt would be an unjustifiable interference with the designs of providence, for, in the peasant's opinion, god gave mahometanism to the tartars just as he gave the orthodox faith to the russians. the ecclesiastical authorities do not formally adopt this strange theory, but they generally act in accordance with it. there is little official propaganda among the mahometan subjects of the tsar, and it is well that it is so, for an energetic propaganda would lead merely to the stirring up of any latent hostility which may exist deep down in the nature of the two races, and it would not make any real converts. the tartars cannot unconsciously imbibe christianity as the finns have done. their religion is not a rude, simple paganism without theology in the scholastic sense of the term, but a monotheism as exclusive as christianity itself. enter into conversation with an intelligent man who has no higher religious belief than a rude sort of paganism, and you may, if you know him well and make a judicious use of your knowledge, easily interest him in the touching story of christ's life and teaching. and in these unsophisticated natures there is but one step from interest and sympathy to conversion. try the same method with a mussulman, and you will soon find that all your efforts are fruitless. he has already a theology and a prophet of his own, and sees no reason why he should exchange them for those which you have to offer. perhaps he will show you more or less openly that he pities your ignorance and wonders that you have not been able to advance from christianity to mahometanism. in his opinion--i am supposing that he is a man of education--moses and christ were great prophets in their day, and consequently he is accustomed to respect their memory; but he is profoundly convinced that however appropriate they were for their own times, they have been entirely superseded by mahomet, precisely as we believe that judaism was superseded by christianity. proud of his superior knowledge, he regards you as a benighted polytheist, and may perhaps tell you that the orthodox christians with whom he comes in contact have three gods and a host of lesser deities called saints, that they pray to idols called icons, and that they keep their holy days by getting drunk. in vain you endeavour to explain to him that saints and icons are not essential parts of christianity, and that habits of intoxication have no religious significance. on these points he may make concessions to you, but the doctrine of the trinity remains for him a fatal stumbling-block. "you christians," he will say, "once had a great prophet called jisous, who is mentioned with respect in the koran, but you falsified your sacred writings and took to worshipping him, and now you declare that he is the equal of allah. far from us be such blasphemy! there is but one god, and mahomet is his prophet." a worthy christian missionary, who had laboured long and zealously among a mussulman population, once called me sharply to account for having expressed the opinion that mahometans are very rarely converted to christianity. when i brought him down from the region of vague general statements and insisted on knowing how many cases he had met with in his own personal experience during sixteen years of missionary work, he was constrained to admit that he had know only one: and when i pressed him farther as to the disinterested sincerity of the convert in question his reply was not altogether satisfactory. the policy of religious non-intervention has not always been practised by the government. soon after the conquest of the khanate of kazan in the sixteenth century, the tsars of muscovy attempted to convert their new subjects from mahometanism to christianity. the means employed were partly spiritual and partly administrative, but the police-officers seem to have played a more important part than the clergy. in this way a certain number of tartars were baptised; but the authorities were obliged to admit that the new converts "shamelessly retain many horrid tartar customs, and neither hold nor know the christian faith." when spiritual exhortations failed, the government ordered its officials to "pacify, imprison, put in irons, and thereby unteach and frighten from the tartar faith those who, though baptised, do not obey the admonitions of the metropolitan." these energetic measures proved as ineffectual as the spiritual exhortations; and catherine ii. adopted a new method, highly characteristic of her system of administration. the new converts--who, be it remembered, were unable to read and write--were ordered by imperial ukaz to sign a written promise to the effect that "they would completely forsake their infidel errors, and, avoiding all intercourse with unbelievers, would hold firmly and unwaveringly the christian faith and its dogmas"*--of which latter, we may add, they had not the slightest knowledge. the childlike faith in the magical efficacy of stamped paper here displayed was not justified. the so-called "baptised tartars" are at the present time as far from being christians as they were in the sixteenth century. they cannot openly profess mahometanism, because men who have been once formally admitted into the national church cannot leave it without exposing themselves to the severe pains and penalties of the criminal code, but they strongly object to be christianised. * "ukaz kazanskoi dukhovnoi konsistorii." anno . on this subject i have found a remarkable admission in a semiofficial article, published as recently as .* "it is a fact worthy of attention," says the writer, "that a long series of evident apostasies coincides with the beginning of measures to confirm the converts in the christian faith. there must be, therefore, some collateral cause producing those cases of apostasy precisely at the moment when the contrary might be expected." there is a delightful naivete in this way of stating the fact. the mysterious cause vaguely indicated is not difficult to find. so long as the government demanded merely that the supposed converts should be inscribed as christians in the official registers, there was no official apostasy; but as soon as active measures began to be taken "to confirm the converts," a spirit of hostility and fanaticism appeared among the mussulman population, and made those who were inscribed as christians resist the propaganda. * "zhurnal ministerstva narodnago prosveshtcheniya." june, . it may safely be said that christians are impervious to islam, and genuine mussulmans impervious to christianity; but between the two there are certain tribes, or fractions of tribes, which present a promising field for missionary enterprise. in this field the tartars show much more zeal than the russians, and possess certain advantages over their rivals. the tribes of northeastern russia learn tartar much more easily than russian, and their geographical position and modes of life bring them in contact with russians much less than with tartars. the consequence is that whole villages of tcheremiss and votiaks, officially inscribed as belonging to the greek orthodox church, have openly declared themselves mahometans; and some of the more remarkable conversions have been commemorated by popular songs, which are sung by young and old. against this propaganda the orthodox ecclesiastical authorities do little or nothing. though the criminal code contains severe enactments against those who fall away from the orthodox church, and still more against those who produce apostasy,* the enactments are rarely put in force. both clergy and laity in the russian church are, as a rule, very tolerant where no political questions are involved. the parish priest pays attention to apostasy only when it diminishes his annual revenues, and this can be easily avoided by the apostate's paying a small yearly sum. if this precaution be taken, whole villages may be converted to islam without the higher ecclesiastical authorities knowing anything of the matter. * a person convicted of converting a christian to islamism is sentenced, according to the criminal code (§ ), to the loss of all civil rights, and to imprisonment with hard labour for a term varying from eight to ten years. whether the barrier that separates christians and mussulmans in russia, as elsewhere, will ever be broken down by education, i do not know; but i may remark that hitherto the spread of education among the tartars has tended rather to imbue them with fanaticism. if we remember that theological education always produces intolerance, and that tartar education is almost exclusively theological, we shall not be surprised to find that a tartar's religious fanaticism is generally in direct proportion to the amount of his intellectual culture. the unlettered tartar, unspoiled by learning falsely so called, and knowing merely enough of his religion to perform the customary ordinances prescribed by the prophet, is peaceable, kindly, and hospitable towards all men; but the learned tartar, who has been taught that the christian is a kiafir (infidel) and a mushrik (polytheist), odious in the sight of allah, and already condemned to eternal punishment, is as intolerant and fanatical as the most bigoted roman catholic or calvinist. such fanatics are occasionally to be met with in the eastern provinces, but they are few in number, and have little influence on the masses. from my own experience i can testify that during the whole course of my wanderings i have nowhere received more kindness and hospitality than among the uneducated mussulman bashkirs. even here, however, islam opposes a strong barrier to russification. though no such barrier existed among the pagan finnish tribes, the work of russification among them is still, as i have already indicated, far from complete. not only whole villages, but even many entire districts, are still very little affected by russian influence. this is to be explained partly by geographical conditions. in regions which have a poor soil, and are intersected by no navigable river, there are few or no russian settlers, and consequently the finns have there preserved intact their language and customs; whilst in those districts which present more inducements to colonisation, the russian population is more numerous, and the finns less conservative. it must, however, be admitted that geographical conditions do not completely explain the facts. the various tribes, even when placed in the same conditions, are not equally susceptible to foreign influence. the mordva, for instance, are infinitely less conservative than the tchuvash. this i have often noticed, and my impression has been confirmed by men who have had more opportunities of observation. for the present we must attribute this to some occult ethnological peculiarity, but future investigations may some day supply a more satisfactory explanation. already i have obtained some facts which appear to throw light on the subject. the tchuvash have certain customs which seem to indicate that they were formerly, if not avowed mahometans, at least under the influence of islam, whilst we have no reason to suppose that the mordva ever passed through that school. the absence of religious fanaticism greatly facilitated russian colonisation in these northern regions, and the essentially peaceful disposition of the russian peasantry tended in the same direction. the russian peasant is admirably fitted for the work of peaceful agricultural colonisation. among uncivilised tribes he is good-natured, long-suffering, conciliatory, capable of bearing extreme hardships, and endowed with a marvellous power of adapting himself to circumstances. the haughty consciousness of personal and national superiority habitually displayed by englishmen of all ranks when they are brought in contact with races which they look upon as lower in the scale of humanity than themselves, is entirely foreign to his character. he has no desire to rule, and no wish to make the natives hewers of wood and drawers of water. all he desires is a few acres of land which he and his family can cultivate; and so long as he is allowed to enjoy these he is not likely to molest his neighbours. had the colonists of the finnish country been men of anglo-saxon race, they would in all probability have taken possession of the land and reduced the natives to the condition of agricultural labourers. the russian colonists have contented themselves with a humbler and less aggressive mode of action; they have settled peaceably among the native population, and are rapidly becoming blended with it. in many districts the so-called russians have perhaps more finnish than slavonic blood in their veins. but what has all this to do, it may be asked, with the aforementioned volkerwanderung, or migration of peoples, during the dark ages? more than may at first sight appear. some of the so-called migrations were, i suspect, not at all migrations in the ordinary sense of the term, but rather gradual changes, such as those which have taken place, and are still taking place, in northern russia. a thousand years ago what is now known as the province of yaroslavl was inhabited by finns, and now it is occupied by men who are commonly regarded as pure slays. but it would be an utter mistake to suppose that the finns of this district migrated to those more distant regions where they are now to be found. in reality they formerly occupied, as i have said, the whole of northern russia, and in the province of yaroslavl they have been transformed by slav infiltration. in central europe the slavs may be said in a certain sense to have retreated, for in former times they occupied the whole of northern germany as far as the elbe. but what does the word "retreat" mean in this case? it means probably that the slays were gradually teutonised, and then absorbed by the teutonic race. some tribes, it is true, swept over a part of europe in genuine nomadic fashion, and endeavoured perhaps to expel or exterminate the actual possessors of the soil. this kind of migration may likewise be studied in russia. but i must leave the subject till i come to speak of the southern provinces. chapter xi lord novgorod the great departure from ivanofka and arrival at novgorod--the eastern half of the town--the kremlin--an old legend--the armed men of rus--the northmen--popular liberty in novgorod--the prince and the popular assembly--civil dissensions and faction-fights--the commercial republic conquered by the muscovite tsars--ivan the terrible--present condition of the town--provincial society--card-playing--periodicals--"eternal stillness." country life in russia is pleasant enough in summer or in winter, but between summer and winter there is an intermediate period of several weeks when the rain and mud transform a country-house into something very like a prison. to escape this durance vile i determined in the month of october to leave ivanofka, and chose as my headquarters for the next few months the town of novgorod--the old town of that name, not to be confounded with nizhni novgorod--i.e., lower novgorod, on the volga--where the great annual fair is held. for this choice there were several reasons. i did not wish to go to st. petersburg or moscow, because i foresaw that in either of those cities my studies would certainly be interrupted. in a quiet, sleepy provincial town i should have much more chance of coming in contact with people who could not speak fluently any west-european languages, and much better opportunities for studying native life and local administration. of the provincial capitals, novgorod was the nearest, and more interesting than most of its rivals; for it has had a curious history, much older than that of st. petersburg or even of moscow, and some traces of its former greatness are still visible. though now a town of third-rate importance--a mere shadow of its former self--it still contains about , inhabitants, and is the administrative centre of the large province in which it is situated. about eighty miles before reaching st. petersburg the moscow railway crosses the volkhof, a rapid, muddy river which connects lake ilmen with lake ladoga. at the point of intersection i got on board a small steamer and sailed up stream towards lake ilmen for about fifty miles.* the journey was tedious, for the country was flat and monotonous, and the steamer, though it puffed and snorted inordinately, did not make more than nine knots. towards sunset novgorod appeared on the horizon. seen thus at a distance in the soft twilight, it seemed decidedly picturesque. on the east bank lay the greater part of the town, the sky line of which was agreeably broken by the green roofs and pear-shaped cupolas of many churches. on the opposite bank rose the kremlin. spanning the river was a long, venerable stone bridge, half hidden by a temporary wooden one, which was doing duty for the older structure while the latter was being repaired. a cynical fellow-passenger assured me that the temporary structure was destined to become permanent, because it yielded a comfortable revenue to certain officials, but this sinister prediction has not been verified. * the journey would now be made by rail, but the branch line which runs near the bank of the river had not been constructed at that time. that part of novgorod which lies on the eastern bank of the river, and in which i took up my abode for several months, contains nothing that is worthy of special mention. as is the case in most russian towns, the streets are straight, wide, and ill-paved, and all run parallel or at right angles to each other. at the end of the bridge is a spacious market-place, flanked on one side by the town-house. near the other side stand the houses of the governor and of the chief military authority of the district. the only other buildings of note are the numerous churches, which are mostly small, and offer nothing that is likely to interest the student of architecture. altogether this part of the town is unquestionably commonplace. the learned archaeologist may detect in it some traces of the distant past, but the ordinary traveller will find little to arrest his attention. if now we cross over to the other side of the river, we are at once confronted by something which very few russian towns possess--a kremlin, or citadel. this is a large and slightly-elevated enclosure, surrounded by high brick walls, and in part by the remains of a moat. before the days of heavy artillery these walls must have presented a formidable barrier to any besieging force, but they have long ceased to have any military significance, and are now nothing more than an historical monument. passing through the gateway which faces the bridge, we find ourselves in a large open space. to the right stands the cathedral--a small, much-venerated church, which can make no pretensions to architectural beauty--and an irregular group of buildings containing the consistory and the residence of the archbishop. to the left is a long symmetrical range of buildings containing the government offices and the law courts. midway between this and the cathedral, in the centre of the great open space, stands a colossal monument, composed of a massive circular stone pedestal and an enormous globe, on and around which cluster a number of emblematic and historical figures. this curious monument, which has at least the merit of being original in design, was erected in , in commemoration of russia's thousandth birthday, and is supposed to represent the history of russia in general and of novgorod in particular during the last thousand years. it was placed here because novgorod is the oldest of russian towns, and because somewhere in the surrounding country occurred the incident which is commonly recognised as the foundation of the russian empire. the incident in question is thus described in the oldest chronicle: "at that time, as the southern slavonians paid tribute to the kozars, so the novgorodian slavonians suffered from the attacks of the variags. for some time the variags exacted tribute from the novgorodian slavonians and the neighbouring finns; then the conquered tribes, by uniting their forces, drove out the foreigners. but among the slavonians arose strong internal dissensions; the clans rose against each other. then, for the creation of order and safety, they resolved to call in princes from a foreign land. in the year slavonic legates went away beyond the sea to the variag tribe called rus, and said, 'our land is great and fruitful, but there is no order in it; come and reign and rule over us.' three brothers accepted the invitation, and appeared with their armed followers. the eldest of these, rurik, settled in novgorod; the second, sineus, at byelo-ozero; and the third, truvor, in isborsk. from them our land is called rus. after two years the brothers of rurik died. he alone began to rule over the novgorod district, and confided to his men the administration of the principal towns." this simple legend has given rise to a vast amount of learned controversy, and historical investigators have fought valiantly with each other over the important question, who were those armed men of rus? for a long time the commonly received opinion was that they were normans from scandinavia. the slavophils accepted the legend literally in this sense, and constructed upon it an ingenious theory of russian history. the nations of the west, they said, were conquered by invaders, who seized the country and created the feudal system for their own benefit; hence the history of western europe is a long tale of bloody struggles between conquerors and conquered, and at the present day the old enmity still lives in the political rivalry of the different social classes. the russo-slavonians, on the contrary, were not conquered, but voluntarily invited a foreign prince to come and rule over them! hence the whole social and political development of russia has been essentially peaceful, and the russian people know nothing of social castes or feudalism. though this theory afforded some nourishment for patriotic self-satisfaction, it displeased extreme patriots, who did not like the idea that order was first established in their country by men of teutonic race. these preferred to adopt the theory that rurik and his companions were slavonians from the shores of the baltic. though i devoted to the study of this question more time and labour than perhaps the subject deserved, i have no intention of inviting the reader to follow me through the tedious controversy. suffice it to say that, after careful consideration, and with all due deference to recent historians, i am inclined to adopt the old theory, and to regard the normans of scandinavia as in a certain sense the founders of the russian empire. we know from other sources that during the ninth century there was a great exodus from scandinavia. greedy of booty, and fired with the spirit of adventure, the northmen, in their light, open boats, swept along the coasts of germany, france, spain, greece, and asia minor, pillaging the towns and villages near the sea, and entering into the heart of the country by means of the rivers. at first they were mere marauders, and showed everywhere such ferocity and cruelty that they came to be regarded as something akin to plagues and famines, and the faithful added a new petition to the litany, "from the wrath and malice of the normans, o lord, deliver us!" but towards the middle of the century the movement changed its character. the raids became military invasions, and the invaders sought to conquer the lands which they had formerly plundered, "ut acquirant sibi spoliando regna quibus possent vivere pace perpetua." the chiefs embraced christianity, married the daughters or sisters of the reigning princes, and obtained the conquered territories as feudal grants. thus arose norman principalities in the low countries, in france, in italy, and in sicily; and the northmen, rapidly blending with the native population, soon showed as much political talent as they had formerly shown reckless and destructive valour. it would have been strange indeed if these adventurers, who succeeded in reaching asia minor and the coasts of north america, should have overlooked russia, which lay, as it were, at their very doors. the volkhof, flowing through novgorod, formed part of a great waterway which afforded almost uninterrupted water-communication between the baltic and the black sea; and we know that some time afterwards the scandinavians used this route in their journeys to constantinople. the change which the scandinavian movement underwent elsewhere is clearly indicated by the russian chronicles: first, the variags came as collectors of tribute, and raised so much popular opposition that they were expelled, and then they came as rulers, and settled in the country. whether they really came on invitation may be doubted, but that they adopted the language, religion, and customs of the native population does not militate against the assertion that they were normans. on the contrary, we have here rather an additional confirmation, for elsewhere the normans did likewise. in the north of france they adopted almost at once the french language and religion, and the son and successor of the famous rollo was sometimes reproached with being more french than norman.* *strinnholm, "die vikingerzuge" (hamburg, ), i., p. . though it is difficult to decide how far the legend is literally true, there can be no possible doubt that the event which it more or less accurately describes had an important influence on russian history. from that time dates the rapid expansion of the russo-slavonians--a movement that is still going on at the present day. to the north, the east, and the south new principalities were formed and governed by men who all claimed to be descendants of rurik, and down to the end of the sixteenth century no russian outside of this great family ever attempted to establish independent sovereignty. for six centuries after the so-called invitation of rurik the city on the volkhof had a strange, checkered history. rapidly it conquered the neighbouring finnish tribes, and grew into a powerful independent state, with a territory extending to the gulf of finland, and northwards to the white sea. at the same time its commercial importance increased, and it became an outpost of the hanseatic league. in this work the descendants of rurik played an important part, but they were always kept in strict subordination to the popular will. political freedom kept pace with commercial prosperity. what means rurik employed for establishing and preserving order we know not, but the chronicles show that his successors in novgorod possessed merely such authority as was freely granted them by the people. the supreme power resided, not in the prince, but in the assembly of the citizens called together in the market-place by the sound of the great bell. this assembly made laws for the prince as well as for the people, entered into alliances with foreign powers, declared war, and concluded peace, imposed taxes, raised troops, and not only elected the magistrates, but also judged and deposed them when it thought fit. the prince was little more than the hired commander of the troops and the president of the judicial administration. when entering on his functions he had to take a solemn oath that he would faithfully observe the ancient laws and usages, and if he failed to fulfil his promise he was sure to be summarily deposed and expelled. the people had an old rhymed proverb, "koli khud knyaz, tak v gryaz!" "if the prince is bad, into the mud with him!", and they habitually acted according to it. so unpleasant, indeed, was the task of ruling those sturdy, stiff-necked burghers, that some princes refused to undertake it, and others, having tried it for a time, voluntarily laid down their authority and departed. but these frequent depositions and abdications--as many as thirty took place in the course of a single century--did not permanently disturb the existing order of things. the descendants of rurik were numerous, and there were always plenty of candidates for the vacant post. the municipal republic continued to grow in strength and in riches, and during the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries it proudly styled itself "lord novgorod the great" (gospodin velilki novgorod). "then came a change, as all things human change." to the east arose the principality of moscow--not an old, rich municipal republic, but a young, vigorous state, ruled by a line of crafty, energetic, ambitious, and unscrupulous princes of the rurik stock, who were freeing the country from the tartar yoke and gradually annexing by fair means and foul the neighbouring principalities to their own dominions. at the same time, and in a similar manner, the lithuanian princes to the westward united various small principalities and formed a large independent state. thus novgorod found itself in a critical position. under a strong government it might have held its own against these rivals and successfully maintained its independence, but its strength was already undermined by internal dissensions. political liberty had led to anarchy. again and again on that great open space where the national monument now stands, and in the market-place on the other side of the river, scenes of disorder and bloodshed took place, and more than once on the bridge battles were fought by contending factions. sometimes it was a contest between rival families, and sometimes a struggle between the municipal aristocracy, who sought to monopolise the political power, and the common people, who wished to have a large share in the administration. a state thus divided against itself could not long resist the aggressive tendencies of powerful neighbours. artful diplomacy could but postpone the evil day, and it required no great political foresight to predict that sooner or later novgorod must become lithuanian or muscovite. the great families inclined to lithuania, but the popular party and the clergy, disliking roman catholicism, looked to moscow for assistance, and the grand princes of muscovy ultimately won the prize. the barbarous way in which the grand princes effected the annexation shows how thoroughly they had imbibed the spirit of tartar statesmanship. thousands of families were transported to moscow, and muscovite families put in their places; and when, in spite of this, the old spirit revived, ivan the terrible determined to apply the method of physical extermination which he had found so effectual in breaking the power of his own nobles. advancing with a large army, which met with no resistance, he devastated the country with fire and sword, and during a residence of five weeks in the town he put the inhabitants to death with a ruthless ferocity which has perhaps never been surpassed even by oriental despots. if those old walls could speak they would have many a horrible tale to tell. enough has been preserved in the chronicles to give us some idea of this awful time. monks and priests were subjected to the tartar punishment called pravezh, which consisted in tying the victim to a stake, and flogging him daily until a certain sum of money was paid for his release. the merchants and officials were tortured with fire, and then thrown from the bridge with their wives and children into the river. lest any of them should escape by swimming, boatfuls of soldiers despatched those who were not killed by the fall. at the present day there is a curious bubbling immediately below the bridge, which prevents the water from freezing in winter, and according to popular belief this is caused by the spirits of the terrible tsar's victims. of those who were murdered in the villages there is no record, but in the town alone no less than , human beings are said to have been butchered--an awful hecatomb on the altar of national unity and autocratic power! this tragic scene, which occurred in , closes the history of novgorod as an independent state. its real independence had long since ceased to exist, and now the last spark of the old spirit was extinguished. the tsars could not suffer even a shadow of political independence to exist within their dominions. in the old days, when many hanseatic merchants annually visited the city, and when the market-place, the bridge, and the kremlin were often the scene of violent political struggles, novgorod must have been an interesting place to live in; but now its glory has departed, and in respect of social resources it is not even a first-rate provincial town. kief, kharkof, and other towns which are situated at a greater distance from the capital, in districts fertile enough to induce the nobles to farm their own land, are in their way little semi-independent centres of civilisation. they contain a theatre, a library, two or three clubs, and large houses belonging to rich landed proprietors, who spend the summer on their estates and come into town for the winter months. these proprietors, together with the resident officials, form a numerous society, and during the winter, dinner-parties, balls, and other social gatherings are by no means infrequent. in novgorod the society is much more limited. it does not, like kief, kharkof, and kazan, possess a university, and it contains no houses belonging to wealthy nobles. the few proprietors of the province who live on their estates, and are rich enough to spend part of the year in town, prefer st. petersburg for their winter residence. the society, therefore, is composed exclusively of the officials and of the officers who happen to be quartered in the town or the immediate vicinity. of all the people whose acquaintance i made at novgorod, i can recall only two men who did not occupy some official position, civil or military. one of these was a retired doctor, who was attempting to farm on scientific principles, and who, i believe, soon afterwards gave up the attempt and migrated elsewhere. the other was a polish bishop who had been compromised in the insurrection of , and was condemned to live here under police supervision. this latter could scarcely be said to belong to the society of the place; though he sometimes appeared at the unceremonious weekly receptions given by the governor, and was invariably treated by all present with marked respect, he could not but feel that he was in a false position, and he was rarely or never seen in other houses. the official circle of a town like novgorod is sure to contain a good many people of average education and agreeable manners, but it is sure to be neither brilliant nor interesting. though it is constantly undergoing a gradual renovation by the received system of frequently transferring officials from one town to another, it preserves faithfully, in spite of the new blood which it thus receives, its essentially languid character. when a new official arrives he exchanges visits with all the notables, and for a few days he produces quite a sensation in the little community. if he appears at social gatherings he is much talked to, and if he does not appear he is much talked about. his former history is repeatedly narrated, and his various merits and defects assiduously discussed. if he is married, and has brought his wife with him, the field of comment and discussion is very much enlarged. the first time that madame appears in society she is the "cynosure of neighbouring eyes." her features, her complexion, her hair, her dress, and her jewellery are carefully noted and criticised. perhaps she has brought with her, from the capital or from abroad, some dresses of the newest fashion. as soon as this is discovered she at once becomes an object of special curiosity to the ladies, and of envious jealousy to those who regard as a personal grievance the presence of a toilette finer or more fashionable than their own. her demeanour, too, is very carefully observed. if she is friendly and affable in manner, she is patronised; if she is distant and reserved, she is condemned as proud and pretentious. in either case she is pretty sure to form a close intimacy with some one of the older female residents, and for a few weeks the two ladies are inseparable, till some incautious word or act disturbs the new-born friendship, and the devoted friends become bitter enemies. voluntarily or involuntarily the husbands get mixed up in the quarrel. highly undesirable qualities are discovered in the characters of all parties concerned, and are made the subject of unfriendly comment. then the feud subsides, and some new feud of a similar kind comes to occupy the public attention. mrs. a. wonders how her friends mr. and mrs. b. can afford to lose considerable sums every evening at cards, and suspects that they are getting into debt or starving themselves and their children; in her humble opinion they would do well to give fewer supper-parties, and to refrain from poisoning their guests. the bosom friend to whom this is related retails it directly or indirectly to mrs. b., and mrs. b. naturally retaliates. here is a new quarrel, which for some time affords material for conversation. when there is no quarrel, there is sure to be a bit of scandal afloat. though russian provincial society is not at all prudish, and leans rather to the side of extreme leniency, it cannot entirely overlook les convenances. madame c. has always a large number of male admirers, and to this there can be no reasonable objection so long as her husband does not complain, but she really parades her preference for mr. x. at balls and parties a little too conspicuously. then there is madame d., with the big dreamy eyes. how can she remain in the place after her husband was killed in a duel by a brother officer? ostensibly the cause of the quarrel was a trifling incident at the card-table, but every one knows that in reality she was the cause of the deadly encounter. and so on, and so on. in the absence of graver interests society naturally bestows inordinate attention on the private affairs of its members; and quarrelling, backbiting, and scandal-mongery help indolent people to kill the time that hangs heavily on their hands. potent as these instruments are, they are not sufficient to kill all the leisure hours. in the forenoons the gentlemen are occupied with their official duties, whilst the ladies go out shopping or pay visits, and devote any time that remains to their household duties and their children; but the day's work is over about four o'clock, and the long evening remains to be filled up. the siesta may dispose of an hour or an hour and a half, but about seven o'clock some definite occupation has to be found. as it is impossible to devote the whole evening to discussing the ordinary news of the day, recourse is almost invariably had to card-playing, which is indulged in to an extent that we had no conception of in england until bridge was imported. hour after hour the russians of both sexes will sit in a hot room, filled with a constantly-renewed cloud of tobacco-smoke--in the production of which most of the ladies take part--and silently play "preference," "yarolash," or bridge. those who for some reason are obliged to be alone can amuse themselves with "patience," in which no partner is required. in the other games the stakes are commonly very small, but the sittings are often continued so long that a player may win or lose two or three pounds sterling. it is no unusual thing for gentlemen to play for eight or nine hours at a time. at the weekly club dinners, before coffee had been served, nearly all present used to rush off impatiently to the card-room, and sit there placidly from five o'clock in the afternoon till one or two o'clock in the morning! when i asked my friends why they devoted so much time to this unprofitable occupation, they always gave me pretty much the same answer: "what are we to do? we have been reading or writing official papers all day, and in the evening we like to have a little relaxation. when we come together we have very little to talk about, for we have all read the daily papers and nothing more. the best thing we can do is to sit down at the card-table, where we can spend our time pleasantly, without the necessity of talking." in addition to the daily papers, some people read the monthly periodicals--big, thick volumes, containing several serious articles on historical and social subjects, sections of one or two novels, satirical sketches, and a long review of home and foreign politics on the model of those in the revue des deux mondes. several of these periodicals are very ably conducted, and offer to their readers a large amount of valuable information; but i have noticed that the leaves of the more serious part often remain uncut. the translation of a sensation novel by the latest french or english favourite finds many more readers than an article by an historian or a political economist. as to books, they seem to be very little read, for during all the time i lived in novgorod i never discovered a bookseller's shop, and when i required books i had to get them sent from st. petersburg. the local administration, it is true, conceived the idea of forming a museum and circulating library, but in my time the project was never realised. of all the magnificent projects that are formed in russia, only a very small percentage come into existence, and these are too often very short-lived. the russians have learned theoretically what are the wants of the most advanced civilisation, and are ever ready to rush into the grand schemes which their theoretical knowledge suggests; but very few of them really and permanently feel these wants, and consequently the institutions artificially formed to satisfy them very soon languish and die. in the provincial towns the shops for the sale of gastronomic delicacies spring up and flourish, whilst shops for the sale of intellectual food are rarely to be met with. about the beginning of december the ordinary monotony of novgorod life is a little relieved by the annual provincial assembly, which sits daily for two or three weeks and discusses the economic wants of the province.* during this time a good many landed proprietors, who habitually live on their estates or in st. petersburg, collect in the town, and enliven a little the ordinary society. but as christmas approaches the deputies disperse, and again the town becomes enshrouded in that "eternal stillness" (vetchnaya tishina) which a native poet has declared to be the essential characteristic of russian provincial life. * of these assemblies i shall have more to say when i come to describe the local self-government. chapter xii the towns and the mercantile classes general character of russian towns--scarcity of towns in russia--why the urban element in the population is so small--history of russian municipal institutions--unsuccessful efforts to create a tiers-etat--merchants, burghers, and artisans--town council--a rich merchant--his house--his love of ostentation--his conception of aristocracy--official decorations--ignorance and dishonesty of the commercial classes--symptoms of change. those who wish to enjoy the illusions produced by scene painting and stage decorations should never go behind the scenes. in like manner he who wishes to preserve the delusion that russian provincial towns are picturesque should never enter them, but content himself with viewing them from a distance. however imposing they may look when seen from the outside, they will be found on closer inspection, with very few exceptions, to be little more than villages in disguise. if they have not a positively rustic, they have at least a suburban, appearance. the streets are straight and wide, and are either miserably paved or not paved at all. trottoirs are not considered indispensable. the houses are built of wood or brick, generally one-storied, and separated from each other by spacious yards. many of them do not condescend to turn their facades to the street. the general impression produced is that the majority of the burghers have come from the country, and have brought their country-houses with them. there are few or no shops with merchandise tastefully arranged in the window to tempt the passer-by. if you wish to make purchases you must go to the gostinny dvor,* or bazaar, which consists of long, symmetrical rows of low-roofed, dimly-lighted stores, with a colonnade in front. this is the place where merchants most do congregate, but it presents nothing of that bustle and activity which we are accustomed to associate with commercial life. the shopkeepers stand at their doors or loiter about in the immediate vicinity waiting for customers. from the scarcity of these latter i should say that when sales are effected the profits must be enormous. * these words mean literally the guests' court or yard. the ghosti--a word which is etymologically the same as our "host" and "guest"--were originally the merchants who traded with other towns or other countries. in the other parts of the town the air of solitude and languor is still more conspicuous. in the great square, or by the side of the promenade--if the town is fortunate enough to have one--cows or horses may be seen grazing tranquilly, without being at all conscious of the incongruity of their position. and, indeed, it would be strange if they had any such consciousness, for it does not exist in the minds either of the police or of the inhabitants. at night the streets may be lighted merely with a few oil-lamps, which do little more than render the darkness visible, so that cautious citizens returning home late often provide themselves with lanterns. as late as the sixties the learned historian, pogodin, then a town-councillor of moscow, opposed the lighting of the city with gas on the ground that those who chose to go out at night should carry their lamps with them. the objection was overruled, and moscow is now fairly well lit, but the provincial towns are still far from being on the same level. some retain their old primitive arrangements, while others enjoy the luxury of electric lighting. the scarcity of large towns in russia is not less remarkable than their rustic appearance. according to the last census ( ) the number of towns, officially so-called, is , , but about three-fifths of them have under , inhabitants; only have over , , and only over , . these figures indicate plainly that the urban element of the population is relatively small, and it is declared by the official statisticians to be only per cent., as against per cent. in great britain, but it is now increasing rapidly. when the first edition of this work was published, in , european russia in the narrower sense of the term--excluding finland, the baltic provinces, lithuania, poland, and the caucasus--had only towns with a population of over , , and now there are ; that is to say, the number of such towns has more than trebled. in the other portions of the country a similar increase has taken place. the towns which have become important industrial and commercial centres have naturally grown most rapidly. for example, in a period of twelve years ( - ) the populations of lodz, of ekaterinoslaf, of baku, of yaroslavl, and of libau, have more than doubled. in the five largest towns of the empire--st. petersburg, moscow, warsaw, odessa and lodz--the aggregate population rose during the same twelve years from , , to , , , or nearly per cent. in ten other towns, with populations varying from , to , , the aggregate rose from , to , , , or about per cent. that russia should have taken so long to assimilate herself in this respect to western europe is to be explained by the geographical and political conditions. her population was not hemmed in by natural or artificial frontiers strong enough to restrain their expansive tendencies. to the north, the east, and the southeast there was a boundless expanse of fertile, uncultivated land, offering a tempting field for emigration; and the peasantry have ever shown themselves ready to take advantage of their opportunities. instead of improving their primitive system of agriculture, which requires an enormous area and rapidly exhausts the soil, they have always found it easier and more profitable to emigrate and take possession of the virgin land beyond. thus the territory--sometimes with the aid of, and sometimes in spite of, the government--has constantly expanded, and has already reached the polar ocean, the pacific, and the northern offshoots of the himalayas. the little district around the sources of the dnieper has grown into a mighty empire, comprising one-seventh of the land surface of the globe. prolific as the russian race is, its power of reproduction could not keep pace with its territorial expansion, and consequently the country is still very thinly peopled. according to the latest census ( ) in the whole empire there are under millions of inhabitants, and the average density of population is only about fifteen to the english square mile. even the most densely populated provinces, including moscow with its , inhabitants, cannot show more than to the english square mile, whereas england has about . a people that has such an abundance of land, and can support itself by agriculture, is not naturally disposed to devote itself to industry, or to congregate in large cities. for many generations there were other powerful influences working in the same direction. of these the most important was serfage, which was not abolished till . that institution, and the administrative system of which it formed an essential part, tended to prevent the growth of the towns by hemming the natural movements of the population. peasants, for example, who learned trades, and who ought to have drifted naturally into the burgher class, were mostly retained by the master on his estate, where artisans of all sorts were daily wanted, and the few who were sent to seek work in the towns were not allowed to settle there permanently. thus the insignificance of the russian towns is to be attributed mainly to two causes. the abundance of land tended to prevent the development of industry, and the little industry which did exist was prevented by serfage from collecting in the towns. but this explanation is evidently incomplete. the same causes existed during the middle ages in central europe, and yet, in spite of them, flourishing cities grew up and played an important part in the social and political history of germany. in these cities collected traders and artisans, forming a distinct social class, distinguished from the nobles on the one hand, and the surrounding peasantry on the other, by peculiar occupations, peculiar aims, peculiar intellectual physiognomy, and peculiar moral conceptions. why did these important towns and this burgher class not likewise come into existence in russia, in spite of the two preventive causes above mentioned? to discuss this question fully it would be necessary to enter into certain debated points of mediaeval history. all i can do here is to indicate what seems to me the true explanation. in central europe, all through the middle ages, a perpetual struggle went on between the various political factors of which society was composed, and the important towns were in a certain sense the products of this struggle. they were preserved and fostered by the mutual rivalry of the sovereign, the feudal nobility, and the church; and those who desired to live by trade or industry settled in them in order to enjoy the protection and immunities which they afforded. in russia there was never any political struggle of this kind. as soon as the grand princes of moscow, in the sixteenth century, threw off the yoke of the tartars, and made themselves tsars of all russia, their power was irresistible and uncontested. complete masters of the situation, they organised the country as they thought fit. at first their policy was favourable to the development of the towns. perceiving that the mercantile and industrial classes might be made a rich source of revenue, they separated them from the peasantry, gave them the exclusive right of trading, prevented the other classes from competing with them, and freed them from the authority of the landed proprietors. had they carried out this policy in a cautious, rational way, they might have created a rich burgher class; but they acted with true oriental short-sightedness, and defeated their own purpose by imposing inordinately heavy taxes, and treating the urban population as their serfs. the richer merchants were forced to serve as custom-house officers--often at a great distance from their domiciles*--and artisans were yearly summoned to moscow to do work for the tsars without remuneration. * merchants from yaroslavl, for instance, were sent to astrakhan to collect the custom-dues. besides this, the system of taxation was radically defective, and the members of the local administration, who received no pay and were practically free from control, were merciless in their exactions. in a word, the tsars used their power so stupidly and so recklessly that the industrial and trading population, instead of fleeing to the towns to secure protection, fled from them to escape oppression. at length this emigration from the towns assumed such dimensions that it was found necessary to prevent it by administrative and legislative measures; and the urban population was legally fixed in the towns as the rural population was fixed to the soil. those who fled were brought back as runaways, and those who attempted flight a second time were ordered to be flogged and transported to siberia.* * see the "ulozhenie" (i.e. the laws of alexis, father of peter the great), chap. xix. . with the eighteenth century began a new era in the history of the towns and of the urban population. peter the great observed, during his travels in western europe, that national wealth and prosperity reposed chiefly on the enterprising, educated middle classes, and he attributed the poverty of his own country to the absence of this burgher element. might not such a class be created in russia? peter unhesitatingly assumed that it might, and set himself at once to create it in a simple, straightforward way. foreign artisans were imported into his dominions and foreign merchants were invited to trade with his subjects; young russians were sent abroad to learn the useful arts; efforts were made to disseminate practical knowledge by the translation of foreign books and the foundation of schools; all kinds of trade were encouraged, and various industrial enterprises were organised. at the same time the administration of the towns was thoroughly reorganised after the model of the ancient free-towns of germany. in place of the old organisation, which was a slightly modified form of the rural commune, they received german municipal institutions, with burgomasters, town councils, courts of justice, guilds for the merchants, trade corporations (tsekhi) for the artisans, and an endless list of instructions regarding the development of trade and industry, the building of hospitals, sanitary precautions, the founding of schools, the dispensation of justice, the organisation of the police, and similar matters. catherine ii. followed in the same track. if she did less for trade and industry, she did more in the way of legislating and writing grandiloquent manifestoes. in the course of her historical studies she had learned, as she proclaims in one of her manifestoes, that "from remotest antiquity we everywhere find the memory of town-builders elevated to the same level as the memory of legislators, and we see that heroes, famous for their victories, hoped by town-building to give immortality to their names." as the securing of immortality for her own name was her chief aim in life, she acted in accordance with historical precedent, and created towns in the short space of twenty-three years. this seems a great work, but it did not satisfy her ambition. she was not only a student of history, but was at the same time a warm admirer of the fashionable political philosophy of her time. that philosophy paid much attention to the tiers-etat, which was then acquiring in france great political importance, and catherine thought that as she had created a noblesse on the french model, she might also create a bourgeoisie. for this purpose she modified the municipal organisation created by her great predecessor, and granted to all the towns an imperial charter. this charter remained without essential modification until the publication of the new municipality law in . the efforts of the government to create a rich, intelligent tiers-etat were not attended with much success. their influence was always more apparent in official documents than in real life. the great mass of the population remained serfs, fixed to the soil, whilst the nobles--that is to say, all who possessed a little education--were required for the military and civil services. those who were sent abroad to learn the useful arts learned little, and made little use of the knowledge which they acquired. on their return to their native country they very soon fell victims to the soporific influence of the surrounding social atmosphere. the "town-building" had as little practical result. it was an easy matter to create any number of towns in the official sense of the term. to transform a village into a town, it was necessary merely to prepare an izba, or log-house, for the district court, another for the police-office, a third for the prison, and so on. on an appointed day the governor of the province arrived in the village, collected the officials appointed to serve in the newly-constructed or newly-arranged log-houses, ordered a simple religious ceremony to be performed by the priest, caused a formal act to be drawn up, and then declared the town to be "opened." all this required very little creative effort; to create a spirit of commercial and industrial enterprise among the population was a more difficult matter and could not be effected by imperial ukaz. to animate the newly-imported municipal institutions, which had no root in the traditions and habits of the people, was a task of equal difficulty. in the west these institutions had been slowly devised in the course of centuries to meet real, keenly-felt, practical wants. in russia they were adopted for the purpose of creating those wants which were not yet felt. let the reader imagine our board of trade supplying the masters of fishing-smacks with accurate charts, learned treatises on navigation, and detailed instructions for the proper ventilation of ships' cabins, and he will have some idea of the effect which peter's legislation had upon the towns. the office-bearers, elected against their will, were hopelessly bewildered by the complicated procedure, and were incapable of understanding the numerous ukazes which prescribed to them their multifarious duties and threatened the most merciless punishments for sins of omission and commission. soon, however, it was discovered that the threats were not nearly so dreadful as they seemed; and accordingly those municipal authorities who were to protect and enlighten the burghers, "forgot the fear of god and the tsar," and extorted so unblushingly that it was found necessary to place them under the control of government officials. the chief practical result of the efforts made by peter and catherine to create a bourgeoisie was that the inhabitants of the towns were more systematically arranged in categories for the purpose of taxation, and that the taxes were increased. all those parts of the new administration which had no direct relation to the fiscal interests of the government had very little vitality in them. the whole system had been arbitrarily imposed on the people, and had as motive only the imperial will. had that motive power been withdrawn and the burghers left to regulate their own municipal affairs, the system would immediately have collapsed. rathhaus, burgomasters, guilds, aldermen, and all the other lifeless shadows which had been called into existence by imperial ukaz would instantly have vanished into space. in this fact we have one of the characteristic traits of russian historical development compared with that of western europe. in the west monarchy had to struggle with municipal institutions to prevent them from becoming too powerful; in russia, it had to struggle with them to prevent them from committing suicide or dying of inanition. according to catherine's legislation, which remained in force until , and still exists in some of its main features, the towns were divided into three categories: ( ) government towns (gubernskiye goroda)--that is to say, the chief towns of provinces, or governments (gubernii)--in which are concentrated the various organs of provincial administration; ( ) district towns (uyezdniye goroda), in which resides the administration of the districts (uyezdi) into which the provinces are divided; and ( ) supernumerary towns (zashtatniye goroda), which have no particular significance in the territorial administration. in all these the municipal organisation is the same. leaving out of consideration those persons who happen to reside in the towns, but in reality belong to the noblesse, the clergy, or the lower ranks of officials, we may say that the town population is composed of three groups: the merchants (kuptsi), the burghers in the narrower sense of the term (meshtchanye), and the artisans (tsekhoviye). these categories are not hereditary castes, like the nobles, the clergy, and the peasantry. a noble may become a merchant, or a man may be one year a burgher, the next year an artisan, and the third year a merchant, if he changes his occupation and pays the necessary dues. but the categories form, for the time being, distinct corporations, each possessing a peculiar organisation and peculiar privileges and obligations. of these three groups the first in the scale of dignity is that of the merchants. it is chiefly recruited from the burghers and the peasantry. any one who wishes to engage in commerce inscribes himself in one of the three guilds, according to the amount of his capital and the nature of the operations in which he wishes to embark, and as soon as he has paid the required dues he becomes officially a merchant. as soon as he ceases to pay these dues he ceases to be a merchant in the legal sense of the term, and returns to the class to which he formerly belonged. there are some families whose members have belonged to the merchant class for several generations, and the law speaks about a certain "velvet-book" (barkhatnaya kniga) in which their names should be inscribed, but in reality they do not form a distinct category, and they descend at once from their privileged position as soon as they cease to pay the annual guild dues. the artisans form the connecting link between the town population and the peasantry, for peasants often enrol themselves in the trades-corporations, or tsekhi, without severing their connection with the rural communes to which they belong. each trade or handicraft constitutes a tsekh, at the head of which stands an elder and two assistants, elected by the members; and all the tsekhi together form a corporation under an elected head (remeslenny golova) assisted by a council composed of the elders of the various tsekhi. it is the duty of this council and its president to regulate all matters connected with the tsekhi, and to see that the multifarious regulations regarding masters, journeymen, and apprentices are duly observed. the nondescript class, composed of those who are inscribed as permanent inhabitants of the towns, but who do not belong to any guild or tsekh, constitutes what is called the burghers in the narrower sense of the term. like the other two categories, they form a separate corporation, with an elder and an administrative bureau. some idea of the relative numerical strength of these three categories may be obtained from the following figures. thirty years ago in european russia the merchant class (including wives and children) numbered about , , the burghers about , , , and the artisans about , . the numbers according to the last census are not yet available. in the entire municipal administration was reorganised on modern west-european principles, and the town council (gorodskaya duma), which formed under the previous system the connecting link between the old-fashioned corporations, and was composed exclusively of members of these bodies, became a genuine representative body composed of householders, irrespective of the social class to which they might belong. a noble, provided he was a house-proprietor, could become town councillor or mayor, and in this way a certain amount of vitality and a progressive spirit were infused into the municipal administration. as a consequence of this change the schools, hospitals, and other benevolent institutions were much improved, the streets were kept cleaner and somewhat better paved, and for a time it seemed as if the towns in russia might gradually rise to the level of those of western europe. but the charm of novelty, which so often works wonders in russia, soon wore off. after a few years of strenuous effort the best citizens no longer came forward as candidates, and the office-bearers selected no longer displayed zeal and intelligence in the discharge of their duties. in these circumstances the government felt called upon again to intervene. by a decree dated june , , it introduced a new series of reforms, by which the municipal self-government was placed more under the direction and control of the centralised bureaucracy, and the attendance of the town councillors at the periodical meetings was declared to be obligatory, recalcitrant members being threatened with reprimands and fines. this last fact speaks volumes for the low vitality of the institutions and the prevalent popular apathy with regard to municipal affairs. nor was the unsatisfactory state of things much improved by the new reforms; on the contrary, the increased interference of the regular officials tended rather to weaken the vitality of the urban self government, and the so-called reform was pretty generally condemned as a needlessly reactionary measure. we have here, in fact, a case of what has often occurred in the administrative history of the russian empire since the time of peter the great, and to which i shall again have occasion to refer. the central authority, finding itself incompetent to do all that is required of it, and wishing to make a display of liberalism, accords large concessions in the direction of local autonomy; and when it discovers that the new institutions do not accomplish all that was expected of them, and are not quite so subservient and obsequious as is considered desirable, it returns in a certain measure to the old principles of centralised bureaucracy. the great development of trade and industry in recent years has of course enriched the mercantile classes, and has introduced into them a more highly educated element, drawn chiefly from the noblesse, which formerly eschewed such occupations; but it has not yet affected very deeply the mode of life of those who have sprung from the old merchant families and the peasantry. when a merchant, contractor, or manufacturer of the old type becomes wealthy, he builds for himself a fine house, or buys and thoroughly repairs the house of some ruined noble, and spends money freely on parquetry floors, large mirrors, malachite tables, grand pianos by the best makers, and other articles of furniture made of the most costly materials. occasionally--especially on the occasion of a marriage or a death in the family--he will give magnificent banquets, and expend enormous sums on gigantic sterlets, choice sturgeons, foreign fruits, champagne, and all manner of costly delicacies. but this lavish, ostentatious expenditure does not affect the ordinary current of his daily life. as you enter those gaudily furnished rooms you can perceive at a glance that they are not for ordinary use. you notice a rigid symmetry and an indescribable bareness which inevitably suggest that the original arrangements of the upholsterer have never been modified or supplemented. the truth is that by far the greater part of the house is used only on state occasions. the host and his family live down-stairs in small, dirty rooms, furnished in a very different, and for them more comfortable, style. at ordinary times the fine rooms are closed, and the fine furniture carefully covered. if you make a visite de politesse after an entertainment, you will probably have some difficulty in gaining admission by the front door. when you have knocked or rung several times, some one will come round from the back regions and ask you what you want. then follows another long pause, and at last footsteps are heard approaching from within. the bolts are drawn, the door is opened, and you are led up to a spacious drawing-room. at the wall opposite the windows there is sure to be a sofa, and before it an oval table. at each end of the table, and at right angles to the sofa, there will be a row of three arm-chairs. the other chairs will be symmetrically arranged round the room. in a few minutes the host will appear, in his long double-breasted black coat and well-polished long boots. his hair is parted in the middle, and his beard shows no trace of scissors or razor. after the customary greetings have been exchanged, glasses of tea, with slices of lemon and preserves, or perhaps a bottle of champagne, are brought in by way of refreshments. the female members of the family you must not expect to see, unless you are an intimate friend; for the merchants still retain something of that female seclusion which was in vogue among the upper classes before the time of peter the great. the host himself will probably be an intelligent, but totally uneducated and decidedly taciturn, man. about the weather and the crops he may talk fluently enough, but he will not show much inclination to go beyond these topics. you may, perhaps, desire to converse with him on the subject with which he is best acquainted--the trade in which he is himself engaged; but if you make the attempt, you will certainly not gain much information, and you may possibly meet with such an incident as once happened to my travelling companion, a russian gentleman who had been commissioned by two learned societies to collect information regarding the grain trade. when he called on a merchant who had promised to assist him in his investigation, he was hospitably received; but when he began to speak about the grain trade of the district the merchant suddenly interrupted him, and proposed to tell him a story. the story was as follows: once on a time a rich landed proprietor had a son, who was a thoroughly spoilt child; and one day the boy said to his father that he wished all the young serfs to come and sing before the door of the house. after some attempts at dissuasion the request was granted, and the young people assembled; but as soon as they began to sing, the boy rushed out and drove them away. when the merchant had told this apparently pointless story at great length, and with much circumstantial detail, he paused a little, poured some tea into his saucer, drank it off, and then inquired, "now what do you think was the reason of this strange conduct?" my friend replied that the riddle surpassed his powers of divination. "well," said the merchant, looking hard at him, with a knowing grin, "there was no reason; and all the boy could say was, 'go away, go away! i've changed my mind; i've changed my mind'" (poshli von; otkhotyel). there was no possibility of mistaking the point of the story. my friend took the hint and departed. the russian merchant's love of ostentation is of a peculiar kind--something entirely different from english snobbery. he may delight in gaudy reception-rooms, magnificent dinners, fast trotters, costly furs; or he may display his riches by princely donations to churches, monasteries, or benevolent institutions: but in all this he never affects to be other than he really is. he habitually wears a costume which designates plainly his social position; he makes no attempt to adopt fine manners or elegant tastes; and he never seeks to gain admission to what is called in russia la societe. having no desire to seem what he is not, he has a plain, unaffected manner, and sometimes a quiet dignity which contrasts favourably with the affected manner of those nobles of the lower ranks who make pretensions to being highly educated and strive to adopt the outward forms of french culture. at his great dinners, it is true, the merchant likes to see among his guests as many "generals"--that is to say, official personages--as possible, and especially those who happen to have a grand cordon; but he never dreams of thereby establishing an intimacy with these personages, or of being invited by them in return. it is perfectly understood by both parties that nothing of the kind is meant. the invitation is given and accepted from quite different motives. the merchant has the satisfaction of seeing at his table men of high official rank, and feels that the consideration which he enjoys among people of his own class is thereby augmented. if he succeeds in obtaining the presence of three generals, he obtains a victory over a rival who cannot obtain more than two. the general, on his side, gets a first-rate dinner, a la russe, and acquires an undefined right to request subscriptions for public objects or benevolent institutions. of course this undefined right is commonly nothing more than a mere tacit understanding, but in certain cases the subject is expressly mentioned. i know of one case in which a regular bargain was made. a moscow magnate was invited by a merchant to a dinner, and consented to go in full uniform, with all his decorations, on condition that the merchant should subscribe a certain sum to a benevolent institution in which he was particularly interested. it is whispered that such bargains are sometimes made, not on behalf of benevolent institutions, but simply in the interest of the gentleman who accepts the invitation. i cannot believe that there are many official personages who would consent to let themselves out as table decorations, but that it may happen is proved by the following incident, which accidentally came to my knowledge. a rich merchant of the town of t---- once requested the governor of the province to honour a family festivity with his presence, and added that he would consider it a special favour if the "governoress" would enter an appearance. to this latter request his excellency made many objections, and at last let the petitioner understand that her excellency could not possibly be present, because she had no velvet dress that could bear comparison with those of several merchants' wives in the town. two days after the interview a piece of the finest velvet that could be procured in moscow was received by the governor from an unknown donor, and his wife was thus enabled to be present at the festivity, to the complete satisfaction of all parties concerned. it is worthy of remark that the merchants recognise no aristocracy but that of official rank. many merchants would willingly give twenty pounds for the presence of an "actual state councillor" who perhaps never heard of his grandfather, but who can show a grand cordon; whilst they would not give twenty pence for the presence of an undecorated prince without official rank, though he might be able to trace his pedigree up to the half-mythical rurik. of the latter they would probably say, "kto ikh znact?" (who knows what sort of a fellow he is?) the former, on the contrary, whoever his father and grandfather may have been, possesses unmistakable marks of the tsar's favour, which, in the merchant's opinion, is infinitely more important than any rights or pretensions founded on hereditary titles or long pedigrees. some marks of imperial favour the old-fashioned merchants strive to obtain for themselves. they do not dream of grand cordons--that is far beyond their most sanguine expectations--but they do all in their power to obtain those lesser decorations which are granted to the mercantile class. for this purpose the most common expedient is a liberal subscription to some benevolent institution, and occasionally a regular bargain is made. i know of at least one instance where the kind of decoration was expressly stipulated. the affair illustrates so well the commercial character of these transactions that i venture to state the facts as related to me by the official chiefly concerned. a merchant subscribed to a society which enjoyed the patronage of a grand duchess a considerable sum of money, under the express condition that he should receive in return a st. vladimir cross. instead of the desired decoration, which was considered too much for the sum subscribed, a cross of st. stanislas was granted; but the donor was dissatisfied with the latter and demanded that his money should be returned to him. the demand had to be complied with, and, as an imperial gift cannot be retracted, the merchant had his stanislas cross for nothing. this traffic in decorations has had its natural result. like paper money issued in too large quantities, the decorations have fallen in value. the gold medals which were formerly much coveted and worn with pride by the rich merchants--suspended by a ribbon round the neck--are now little sought after. in like manner the inordinate respect for official personages has considerably diminished. fifty years ago the provincial merchants vied with each other in their desire to entertain any great dignitary who honoured their town with a visit, but now they seek rather to avoid this expensive and barren honour. when they do accept the honour, they fulfil the duties of hospitality in a most liberal spirit. i have sometimes, when living as an honoured guest in a rich merchant's house, found it difficult to obtain anything simpler than sterlet, sturgeon, and champagne. the two great blemishes on the character of the russian merchants as a class are, according to general opinion, their ignorance and their dishonesty. as to the former of these there cannot possibly be any difference of opinion. many of them can neither read nor write, and are forced to keep their accounts in their memory, or by means of ingenious hieroglyphics, intelligible only to the inventor. others can decipher the calendar and the lives of the saints, can sign their names with tolerable facility, and can make the simpler arithmetical calculations with the help of the stchety, a little calculating instrument, composed of wooden balls strung on brass wires, which resembles the "abaca" of the old romans, and is universally used in russia. it is only the minority who understand the mysteries of regular book-keeping, and of these very few can make any pretensions to being educated men. all this, however, is rapidly undergoing a radical change. children are now much better educated than their parents, and the next generation will doubtless make further progress, so that the old-fashioned type above described is destined to disappear. already there are not a few of the younger generation--especially among the wealthy manufacturers of moscow--who have been educated abroad, who may be described as tout a fait civilises, and whose mode of life differs little from that of the richer nobles; but they remain outside fashionable society, and constitute a "set" of their own. as to the dishonesty which is said to be so common among the russian commercial classes, it is difficult to form an accurate judgment. that an enormous amount of unfair dealing does exist there can be no possible doubt, but in this matter a foreigner is likely to be unduly severe. we are apt to apply unflinchingly our own standard of commercial morality, and to forget that trade in russia is only emerging from that primitive condition in which fixed prices and moderate profits are entirely unknown. and when we happen to detect positive dishonesty, it seems to us especially heinous, because the trickery employed is more primitive and awkward than that to which we are accustomed. trickery in weighing and measuring, for instance, which is by no means uncommon in russia, is likely to make us more indignant than those ingenious methods of adulteration which are practised nearer home, and are regarded by many as almost legitimate. besides this, foreigners who go to russia and embark in speculations without possessing any adequate knowledge of the character, customs, and language of the people positively invite spoliation, and ought to blame themselves rather than the people who profit by their ignorance. all this, and much more of the same kind, may be fairly urged in mitigation of the severe judgments which foreign merchants commonly pass on russian commercial morality, but these judgments cannot be reversed by such argumentation. the dishonesty and rascality which exist among the merchants are fully recognised by the russians themselves. in all moral affairs the lower classes in russia are very lenient in their judgments, and are strongly disposed, like the americans, to admire what is called in transatlantic phraseology "a smart man," though the smartness is known to contain a large admixture of dishonesty; and yet the vox populi in russia emphatically declares that the merchants as a class are unscrupulous and dishonest. there is a rude popular play in which the devil, as principal dramatis persona, succeeds in cheating all manner and conditions of men, but is finally overreached by a genuine russian merchant. when this play is acted in the carnival theatre in st. petersburg the audience invariably agrees with the moral of the plot. if this play were acted in the southern towns near the coast of the black sea it would be necessary to modify it considerably, for here, in company with jews, greeks, and armenians, the russian merchants seem honest by comparison. as to greeks and armenians, i know not which of the two nationalities deserves the palm, but it seems that both are surpassed by the children of israel. "how these jews do business," i have heard a russian merchant of this region exclaim, "i cannot understand. they buy up wheat in the villages at eleven roubles per tchetvert, transport it to the coast at their own expense, and sell it to the exporters at ten roubles! and yet they contrive to make a profit! it is said that the russian trader is cunning, but here 'our brother' [i.e., the russian] can do nothing." the truth of this statement i have had abundant opportunities of confirming by personal investigations on the spot. if i might express a general opinion regarding russian commercial morality, i should say that trade in russia is carried on very much on the same principle as horse-dealing in england. a man who wishes to buy or sell must trust to his own knowledge and acuteness, and if he gets the worst of a bargain or lets himself be deceived, he has himself to blame. commercial englishmen on arriving in russia rarely understand this, and when they know it theoretically they are too often unable, from their ignorance of the language, the laws, and the customs of the people, to turn their theoretical knowledge to account. they indulge, therefore, at first in endless invectives against the prevailing dishonesty; but gradually, when they have paid what germans call lehrgeld, they accommodate themselves to circumstances, take large profits to counterbalance bad debts, and generally succeed--if they have sufficient energy, mother-wit, and capital--in making a very handsome income. the old race of british merchants, however, is rapidly dying out, and i greatly fear that the rising generation will not be equally successful. times have changed. it is no longer possible to amass large fortunes in the old easy-going fashion. every year the conditions alter, and the competition increases. in order to foresee, understand, and take advantage of the changes, one must have far more knowledge of the country than the men of the old school possessed, and it seems to me that the young generation have still less of that knowledge than their predecessors. unless some change takes place in this respect, the german merchants, who have generally a much better commercial education and are much better acquainted with their adopted country, will ultimately, i believe, expel their british rivals. already many branches of commerce formerly carried on by englishmen have passed into their hands. it must not be supposed that the unsatisfactory organisation of the russian commercial world is the result of any radical peculiarity of the russian character. all new countries have to pass through a similar state of things, and in russia there are already premonitory symptoms of a change for the better. for the present, it is true, the extensive construction of railways and the rapid development of banks and limited liability companies have opened up a new and wide field for all kinds of commercial swindling; but, on the other hand, there are now in every large town a certain number of merchants who carry on business in the west-european manner, and have learnt by experience that honesty is the best policy. the success which many of these have obtained will doubtless cause their example to be followed. the old spirit of caste and routine which has long animated the merchant class is rapidly disappearing, and not a few nobles are now exchanging country life and the service of the state for industrial and commercial enterprises. in this way is being formed the nucleus of that wealthy, enlightened bourgeoisie which catherine endeavoured to create by legislation; but many years must elapse before this class acquires sufficient social and political significance to deserve the title of a tiers-etat. chapter xiii the pastoral tribes of the steppe a journey to the steppe region of the southeast--the volga--town and province of samara--farther eastward--appearance of the villages--characteristic incident--peasant mendacity--explanation of the phenomenon--i awake in asia--a bashkir aoul--diner la tartare--kumyss--a bashkir troubadour--honest mehemet zian--actual economic condition of the bashkirs throws light on a well-known philosophical theory--why a pastoral race adopts agriculture--the genuine steppe--the kirghiz--letter from genghis khan--the kalmyks--nogai tartars--struggle between nomadic hordes and agricultural colonists. when i had spent a couple of years or more in the northern and north-central provinces--the land of forests and of agriculture conducted on the three-field system, with here and there a town of respectable antiquity--i determined to visit for purposes of comparison and contrast the southeastern region, which possesses no forests nor ancient towns, and corresponds to the far west of the united states of america. my point of departure was yaroslavl, a town on the right bank of the volga to the northeast of moscow--and thence i sailed down the river during three days on a large comfortable steamer to samara, the chief town of the province or "government" of the name. here i left the steamer and prepared to make a journey into the eastern hinterland. samara is a new town, a child of the last century. at the time of my first visit, now thirty years ago, it recalled by its unfinished appearance the new towns of america. many of the houses were of wood. the streets were still in such a primitive condition that after rain they were almost impassable from mud, and in dry, gusty weather they generated thick clouds of blinding, suffocating dust. before i had been many days in the place i witnessed a dust-hurricane, during which it was impossible at certain moments to see from my window the houses on the other side of the street. amidst such primitive surroundings the colossal new church seemed a little out of keeping, and it occurred to my practical british mind that some of the money expended on its construction might have been more profitably employed. but the russians have their own ideas of the fitness of things. religious after their own fashion, they subscribe money liberally for ecclesiastical purposes--especially for the building and decoration of their churches. besides this, the government considers that every chief town of a province should possess a cathedral. in its early days samara was one of the outposts of russian colonisation, and had often to take precautions against the raids of the nomadic tribes living in the vicinity; but the agricultural frontier has since been pushed far forward to the east and south, and the province was until lately, despite occasional droughts, one of the most productive in the empire. the town is the chief market of this region, and therein lies its importance. the grain is brought by the peasants from great distances, and stored in large granaries by the merchants, who send it to moscow or st. petersburg. in former days this was a very tedious operation. the boats containing the grain were towed by horses or stout peasants up the rivers and through the canals for hundreds of miles. then came the period of "cabestans"--unwieldly machines propelled by means of anchors and windlasses. now these primitive methods of transport have disappeared. the grain is either despatched by rail or put into gigantic barges, which are towed up the river by powerful tug-steamers to some point connected with the great network of railways. when the traveller has visited the cathedral and the granaries he has seen all the lions--not very formidable lions, truly--of the place. he may then inspect the kumyss establishments, pleasantly situated near the town. he will find there a considerable number of patients--mostly consumptive--who drink enormous quantities of fermented mare's-milk, and who declare that they receive great benefit from this modern health-restorer. what interested me more than the lions of the town or the suburban kumyss establishments were the offices of the local administration, where i found in the archives much statistical and other information of the kind i was in search of, regarding the economic condition of the province generally, and of the emancipated peasantry in particular. having filled my note-book with material of this sort, i proceeded to verify and complete it by visiting some characteristic villages and questioning the inhabitants. for the student of russian affairs who wishes to arrive at real, as distinguished from official, truth, this is not an altogether superfluous operation. when i had thus made the acquaintance of the sedentary agricultural population in several districts i journeyed eastwards with the intention of visiting the bashkirs, a tartar tribe which still preserved--so at least i was assured--its old nomadic habits. my reasons for undertaking this journey were twofold. in the first place i was desirous of seeing with my own eyes some remnants of those terrible nomadic tribes which had at one time conquered russia and long threatened to overrun europe--those tartar hordes which gained, by their irresistible force and relentless cruelty, the reputation of being "the scourge of god." besides this, i had long wished to study the conditions of pastoral life, and congratulated myself on having found a convenient opportunity of doing so. as i proceeded eastwards i noticed a change in the appearance of the villages. the ordinary wooden houses, with their high sloping roofs, gradually gave place to flat-roofed huts, built of a peculiar kind of unburnt bricks, composed of mud and straw. i noticed, too, that the population became less and less dense, and the amount of fallow land proportionately greater. the peasants were evidently richer than those near the volga, but they complained--as the russian peasant always does--that they had not land enough. in answer to my inquiries why they did not use the thousands of acres that were lying fallow around them, they explained that they had already raised crops on that land for several successive years, and that consequently they must now allow it to "rest." in one of the villages through which i passed i met with a very characteristic little incident. the village was called samovolnaya ivanofka--that is to say, "ivanofka the self-willed" or "the non-authorised." whilst our horses were being changed my travelling companion, in the course of conversation with a group of peasants, inquired about the origin of this extraordinary name, and discovered a curious bit of local history. the founders of the village had settled on the land without the permission of the absentee owner, and obstinately resisted all attempts at eviction. again and again troops had been sent to drive them away, but as soon as the troops retired these "self-willed" people returned and resumed possession, till at last the proprietor, who lived in st. petersburg or some other distant place, became weary of the contest and allowed them to remain. the various incidents were related with much circumstantial detail, so that the narration lasted perhaps half an hour. all this time i listened attentively, and when the story was finished i took out my note-book in order to jot down the facts, and asked in what year the affair had happened. no answer was given to my question. the peasants merely looked at each other in a significant way and kept silence. thinking that my question had not been understood, i asked it a second time, repeating a part of what had been related. to my astonishment and utter discomfiture they all declared that they had never related anything of the sort! in despair i appealed to my friend, and asked him whether my ears had deceived me--whether i was labouring under some strange hallucination. without giving me any reply he simply smiled and turned away. when we had left the village and were driving along in our tarantass the mystery was satisfactorily cleared up. my friend explained to me that i had not at all misunderstood what had been related, but that my abrupt question and the sight of my note-book had suddenly aroused the peasants' suspicions. "they evidently suspected," he continued, "that you were a tchinovnik, and that you wished to use to their detriment the knowledge you had acquired. they thought it safer, therefore, at once to deny it all. you don't yet understand the russian muzhik!" in this last remark i was obliged to concur, but since that time i have come to know the muzhik better, and an incident of the kind would now no longer surprise me. from a long series of observations i have come to the conclusion that the great majority of the russian peasants, when dealing with the authorities, consider the most patent and barefaced falsehoods as a fair means of self-defence. thus, for example, when a muzhik is implicated in a criminal affair, and a preliminary investigation is being made, he probably begins by constructing an elaborate story to explain the facts and exculpate himself. the story may be a tissue of self-evident falsehoods from beginning to end, but he defends it valiantly as long as possible. when he perceives that the position which he has taken up is utterly untenable, he declares openly that all he has said is false, and that he wishes to make a new declaration. this second declaration may have the same fate as the former one, and then he proposes a third. thus groping his way, he tries various stories till he finds one that seems proof against all objections. in the fact of his thus telling lies there is of course nothing remarkable, for criminals in all parts of the world have a tendency to deviate from the truth when they fall into the hands of justice. the peculiarity is that he retracts his statements with the composed air of a chess-player who requests his opponent to let him take back an inadvertent move. under the old system of procedure, which was abolished in the sixties, clever criminals often contrived by means of this simple device to have their trial postponed for many years. such incidents naturally astonish a foreigner, and he is apt, in consequence, to pass a very severe judgment on the russian peasantry in general. the reader may remember karl karl'itch's remarks on the subject. these remarks i have heard repeated in various forms by germans in all parts of the country, and there must be a certain amount of truth in them, for even an eminent slavophil once publicly admitted that the peasant is prone to perjury.* it is necessary, however, as it seems to me, to draw a distinction. in the ordinary intercourse of peasants among themselves, or with people in whom they have confidence, i do not believe that the habit of lying is abnormally developed. it is only when the muzhik comes in contact with authorities that he shows himself an expert fabricator of falsehoods. in this there is nothing that need surprise us. for ages the peasantry were exposed to the arbitrary power and ruthless exactions of those who were placed over them; and as the law gave them no means of legally protecting themselves, their only means of self-defence lay in cunning and deceit. * kireyefski, in the russakaya beseda. we have here, i believe, the true explanation of that "oriental mendacity" about which eastern travellers have written so much. it is simply the result of a lawless state of society. suppose a truth-loving englishman falls into the hands of brigands or savages. will he not, if he have merely an ordinary moral character, consider himself justified in inventing a few falsehoods in order to effect his escape? if so, we have no right to condemn very severely the hereditary mendacity of those races which have lived for many generations in a position analogous to that of the supposed englishman among brigands. when legitimate interests cannot be protected by truthfulness and honesty, prudent people always learn to employ means which experience has proved to be more effectual. in a country where the law does not afford protection, the strong man defends himself by his strength, the weak by cunning and duplicity. this fully explains the fact that in turkey the christians are less truthful than the mahometans. but we have wandered a long way from the road to bashkiria. let us therefore return at once. of all the journeys which i made in russia this was one of the most agreeable. the weather was bright and warm, without being unpleasantly hot; the roads were tolerably smooth; the tarantass, which had been hired for the whole journey, was nearly as comfortable as a tarantass can be; good milk, eggs, and white bread could be obtained in abundance; there was not much difficulty in procuring horses in the villages through which we passed, and the owners of them were not very extortionate in their demands. but what most contributed to my comfort was that i was accompanied by an agreeable, intelligent young russian, who kindly undertook to make all the necessary arrangements, and i was thereby freed from those annoyances and worries which are always encountered in primitive countries where travelling is not yet a recognised institution. to him i left the entire control of our movements, passively acquiescing in everything, and asking no questions as to what was coming. taking advantage of my passivity, he prepared for me one evening a pleasant little surprise. about sunset we had left a village called morsha, and shortly afterwards, feeling drowsy, and being warned by my companion that we should have a long, uninteresting drive, i had lain down in the tarantass and gone to sleep. on awaking i found that the tarantass had stopped, and that the stars were shining brightly overhead. a big dog was barking furiously close at hand, and i heard the voice of the yamstchik informing us that we had arrived. i at once sat up and looked about me, expecting to see a village of some kind, but instead of that i perceived a wide open space, and at a short distance a group of haystacks. close to the tarantass stood two figures in long cloaks, armed with big sticks, and speaking to each other in an unknown tongue. my first idea was that we had been somehow led into a trap, so i drew my revolver in order to be ready for all emergencies. my companion was still snoring loudly by my side, and stoutly resisted all my efforts to awaken him. "what's this?" i said, in a gruff, angry voice, to the yamstchik. "where have you taken us to?" "to where i was ordered, master!" for the purpose of getting a more satisfactory explanation i took to shaking my sleepy companion, but before he had returned to consciousness the moon shone out brightly from behind a thick bank of clouds, and cleared up the mystery. the supposed haystacks turned out to be tents. the two figures with long sticks, whom i had suspected of being brigands, were peaceable shepherds, dressed in the ordinary oriental khalat, and tending their sheep, which were grazing close by. instead of being in an empty hay-field, as i had imagined, we had before us a regular tartar aoul, such as i had often read about. for a moment i felt astonished and bewildered. it seemed to me that i had fallen asleep in europe and woke up in asia! in a few minutes we were comfortably installed in one of the tents, a circular, cupola-shaped erection, of about twelve feet in diameter, composed of a frame-work of light wooden rods covered with thick felt. it contained no furniture, except a goodly quantity of carpets and pillows, which had been formed into a bed for our accommodation. our amiable host, who was evidently somewhat astonished at our unexpected visit, but refrained from asking questions, soon bade us good-night and retired. we were not, however, left alone. a large number of black beetles remained and gave us a welcome in their own peculiar fashion. whether they were provided with wings, or made up for the want of flying appliances by crawling up the sides of the tent and dropping down on any object they wished to reach, i did not discover, but certain it is that they somehow reached our heads--even when we were standing upright--and clung to our hair with wonderful tenacity. why they should show such a marked preference for human hair we could not conjecture, till it occurred to us that the natives habitually shaved their heads, and that these beetles must naturally consider a hair-covered cranium a curious novelty deserving of careful examination. like all children of nature they were decidedly indiscreet and troublesome in their curiosity, but when the light was extinguished they took the hint and departed. when we awoke next morning it was broad daylight, and we found a crowd of natives in front of the tent. our arrival was evidently regarded as an important event, and all the inhabitants of the aoul were anxious to make our acquaintance. first our host came forward. he was a short, slimly-built man, of middle age, with a grave, severe expression, indicating an unsociable disposition. we afterwards learned that he was an akhun*--that is to say, a minor officer of the mahometan ecclesiastical administration, and at the same time a small trader in silken and woollen stuffs. with him came the mullah, or priest, a portly old gentleman with an open, honest face of the european type, and a fine grey beard. the other important members of the little community followed. they were all swarthy in colour, and had the small eyes and prominent cheek-bones which are characteristic of the tartar races, but they had little of that flatness of countenance and peculiar ugliness which distinguish the pure mongol. all of them, with the exception of the mullah, spoke a little russian, and used it to assure us that we were welcome. the children remained respectfully in the background, and the women, with faces veiled, eyed us furtively from the doors of the tents. * i presume this is the same word as akhund, well known on the northwest frontier of india, where it was applied specially to the late ruler of svat. the aoul consisted of about twenty tents, all constructed on the same model, and scattered about in sporadic fashion, without the least regard to symmetry. close by was a watercourse, which appears on some maps as a river, under the name of karalyk, but which was at that time merely a succession of pools containing a dark-coloured liquid. as we more than suspected that these pools supplied the inhabitants with water for culinary purposes, the sight was not calculated to whet our appetites. we turned away therefore hurriedly, and for want of something better to do we watched the preparations for dinner. these were decidedly primitive. a sheep was brought near the door of our tent, and there killed, skinned, cut up into pieces, and put into an immense pot, under which a fire had been kindled. the dinner itself was not less primitive than the manner of preparing it. the table consisted of a large napkin spread in the middle of the tent, and the chairs were represented by cushions, on which we sat cross-legged. there were no plates, knives, forks, spoons, or chopsticks. guests were expected all to eat out of a common wooden bowl, and to use the instruments with which nature had provided them. the service was performed by the host and his son. the fare was copious, but not varied--consisting entirely of boiled mutton, without bread or other substitute, and a little salted horse-flesh thrown in as an entree. to eat out of the same dish with half-a-dozen mahometans who accept their prophet's injunction about ablutions in a highly figurative sense, and who are totally unacquainted with the use of forks and spoons, is not an agreeable operation, even if one is not much troubled with religious prejudices; but with these bashkirs something worse than this has to be encountered, for their favourite method of expressing their esteem and affection for one with whom they are eating consists in putting bits of mutton, and sometimes even handfuls of hashed meat, into his month! when i discovered this unexpected peculiarity in bashkir manners and customs, i almost regretted that i had made a favourable impression upon my new acquaintances. when the sheep had been devoured, partly by the company in the tent and partly by a nondescript company outside--for the whole aoul took part in the festivities--kumyss was served in unlimited quantities. this beverage, as i have already explained, is mare's milk fermented; but what here passed under the name was very different from the kumyss i had tasted in the establissements of samara. there it was a pleasant effervescing drink, with only the slightest tinge of acidity; here it was a "still" liquid, strongly resembling very thin and very sour butter-milk. my russian friend made a wry face on first tasting it, and i felt inclined at first to do likewise, but noticing that his grimaces made an unfavourable impression on the audience, i restrained my facial muscles, and looked as if i liked it. very soon i really came to like it, and learned to "drink fair" with those who had been accustomed to it from their childhood. by this feat i rose considerably in the estimation of the natives; for if one does not drink kumyss one cannot be sociable in the bashkir sense of the term, and by acquiring the habit one adopts an essential principle of bashkir nationality. i should certainly have preferred having a cup of it to myself, but i thought it well to conform to the habits of the country, and to accept the big wooden bowl when it was passed round. in return my friends made an important concession in my favour: they allowed me to smoke as i pleased, though they considered that, as the prophet had refrained from tobacco, ordinary mortals should do the same. whilst the "loving-cup" was going round i distributed some small presents which i had brought for the purpose, and then proceeded to explain the object of my visit. in the distant country from which i came--far away to the westward--i had heard of the bashkirs as a people possessing many strange customs, but very kind and hospitable to strangers. of their kindness and hospitality i had already learned something by experience, and i hoped they would allow me to learn something of their mode of life, their customs, their songs, their history, and their religion, in all of which i assured them my distant countrymen took a lively interest. this little after-dinner speech was perhaps not quite in accordance with bashkir etiquette, but it made a favourable impression. there was a decided murmur of approbation, and those who understood russian translated my words to their less accomplished brethren. a short consultation ensued, and then there was a general shout of "abdullah! abdullah!" which was taken up and repeated by those standing outside. in a few minutes abdullah appeared, with a big, half-picked bone in his hand, and the lower part of his face besmeared with grease. he was a short, thin man, with a dark, sallow complexion, and a look of premature old age; but the suppressed smile that played about his mouth and a tremulous movement of his right eye-lid showed plainly that he had not yet forgotten the fun and frolic of youth. his dress was of richer and more gaudy material, but at the same time more tawdry and tattered, than that of the others. altogether he looked like an artiste in distressed circumstances, and such he really was. at a word and a sign from the host he laid aside his bone and drew from under his green silk khalat a small wind-instrument resembling a flute or flageolet. on this he played a number of native airs. the first melodies which he played reminded me of a highland pibroch--at one moment low, solemn, and plaintive, then gradually rising into a soul-stirring, martial strain, and again descending to a plaintive wail. the amount of expression which he put into his simple instrument was truly marvellous. then, passing suddenly from grave to gay, he played a series of light, merry airs, and some of the younger onlookers got up and performed a dance as boisterous and ungraceful as an irish jig. this abdullah turned out to be for me a most valuable acquaintance. he was a kind of bashkir troubadour, well acquainted not only with the music, but also with the traditions, the history, the superstitions, and the folk-lore of his people. by the akhun and the mullah he was regarded as a frivolous, worthless fellow, who had no regular, respectable means of gaining a livelihood, but among the men of less rigid principles he was a general favourite. as he spoke russian fluently i could converse with him freely without the aid of an interpreter, and he willingly placed his store of knowledge at my disposal. when in the company of the akhun he was always solemn and taciturn, but as soon as he was relieved of that dignitary's presence he became lively and communicative. another of my new acquaintances was equally useful to me in another way. this was mehemet zian, who was not so intelligent as abdullah, but much more sympathetic. in his open, honest face, and kindly, unaffected manner there was something so irresistibly attractive that before i had known him twenty-four hours a sort of friendship had sprung up between us. he was a tall, muscular, broad-shouldered man, with features that suggested a mixture of european blood. though already past middle age, he was still wiry and active--so active that he could, when on horseback, pick a stone off the ground without dismounting. he could, however, no longer perform this feat at full gallop, as he had been wont to do in his youth. his geographical knowledge was extremely limited and inaccurate--his mind being in this respect like those old russian maps in which the nations of the earth and a good many peoples who had never more than a mythical existence are jumbled together in hopeless confusion--but his geographical curiosity was insatiable. my travelling-map--the first thing of the kind he had ever seen--interested him deeply. when he found that by simply examining it and glancing at my compass i could tell him the direction and distance of places he knew, his face was like that of a child who sees for the first time a conjuror's performance; and when i explained the trick to him, and taught him to calculate the distance to bokhara--the sacred city of the mussulmans of that region--his delight was unbounded. gradually i perceived that to possess such a map had become the great object of his ambition. unfortunately i could not at once gratify him as i should have wished, because i had a long journey before me and i had no other map of the region, but i promised to find ways and means of sending him one, and i kept my word by means of a native of the karalyk district whom i discovered in samara. i did not add a compass because i could not find one in the town, and it would have been of little use to him: like a true child of nature he always knew the cardinal points by the sun or the stars. some years later i had the satisfaction of learning that the map had reached its destination safely, through no less a personage than count tolstoy. one evening at the home of a friend in moscow i was presented to the great novelist, and as soon as he heard my name he said: "oh! i know you already, and i know your friend mehemet zian. when i passed a night this summer in his aoul he showed me a map with your signature on the margin, and taught me how to calculate the distance to bokhara!" if mehemet knew little of foreign countries he was thoroughly well acquainted with his own, and repaid me most liberally for my elementary lessons in geography. with him i visited the neighbouring aouls. in all of them he had numerous acquaintances, and everywhere we were received with the greatest hospitality, except on one occasion when we paid a visit of ceremony to a famous robber who was the terror of the whole neighbourhood. certainly he was one of the most brutalised specimens of humanity i have ever encountered. he made no attempt to be amiable, and i felt inclined to leave his tent at once; but i saw that my friend wanted to conciliate him, so i restrained my feelings and eventually established tolerably good relations with him. as a rule i avoided festivities, partly because i knew that my hosts were mostly poor and would not accept payment for the slaughtered sheep, and partly because i had reason to apprehend that they would express to me their esteem and affection more bashkirico; but in kumyss-drinking, the ordinary occupation of these people when they have nothing to do, i had to indulge to a most inordinate extent. on these expeditions abdullah generally accompanied us, and rendered valuable service as interpreter and troubadour. mehemet could express himself in russian, but his vocabulary failed him as soon as the conversation ran above very ordinary topics; abdullah, on the contrary, was a first-rate interpreter, and under the influence of his musical pipe and lively talkativeness new acquaintances became sociable and communicative. poor abdullah! he was a kind of universal genius; but his faded, tattered khalat showed only too plainly that in bashkiria, as in more civilised countries, universal genius and the artistic temperament lead to poverty rather than to wealth. i have no intention of troubling the reader with the miscellaneous facts which, with the assistance of these two friends, i succeeded in collecting--indeed, i could not if i would, for the notes i then made were afterwards lost--but i wish to say a few words about the actual economic condition of the bashkirs. they are at present passing from pastoral to agricultural life; and it is not a little interesting to note the causes which induce them to make this change, and the way in which it is made. philosophers have long held a theory of social development according to which men were at first hunters, then shepherds, and lastly agriculturists. how far this theory is in accordance with reality we need not for the present inquire, but we may examine an important part of it and ask ourselves the question, why did pastoral tribes adopt agriculture? the common explanation is that they changed their mode of life in consequence of some ill-defined, fortuitous circumstances. a great legislator arose amongst them and taught them to till the soil, or they came in contact with an agricultural race and adopted the customs of their neighbours. such explanations must appear unsatisfactory to any one who has lived with a pastoral people. pastoral life is so incomparably more agreeable than the hard lot of the agriculturist, and so much more in accordance with the natural indolence of human nature, that no great legislator, though he had the wisdom of a solon and the eloquence of a demosthenes, could possibly induce his fellow-countrymen to pass voluntarily from the one to the other. of all the ordinary means of gaining a livelihood--with the exception perhaps of mining--agriculture is the most laborious, and is never voluntarily adopted by men who have not been accustomed to it from their childhood. the life of a pastoral race, on the contrary, is a perennial holiday, and i can imagine nothing except the prospect of starvation which could induce men who live by their flocks and herds to make the transition to agricultural life. the prospect of starvation is, in fact, the cause of the transition--probably in all cases, and certainly in the case of the bashkirs. so long as they had abundance of pasturage they never thought of tilling the soil. their flocks and herds supplied them with all that they required, and enabled them to lead a tranquil, indolent existence. no great legislator arose among them to teach them the use of the plough and the sickle, and when they saw the russian peasants on their borders laboriously ploughing and reaping, they looked on them with compassion, and never thought of following their example. but an impersonal legislator came to them--a very severe and tyrannical legislator, who would not brook disobedience--i mean economic necessity. by the encroachments of the ural cossacks on the east, and by the ever-advancing wave of russian colonisation from the north and west, their territory had been greatly diminished. with diminution of the pasturage came diminution of the live stock, their sole means of subsistence. in spite of their passively conservative spirit they had to look about for some new means of obtaining food and clothing--some new mode of life requiring less extensive territorial possessions. it was only then that they began to think of imitating their neighbours. they saw that the neighbouring russian peasant lived comfortably on thirty or forty acres of land, whilst they possessed a hundred and fifty acres per male, and were in danger of starvation. the conclusion to be drawn from this was self-evident--they ought at once to begin ploughing and sowing. but there was a very serious obstacle to the putting of this principle in practice. agriculture certainly requires less land than sheep-farming, but it requires very much more labour, and to hard work the bashkirs were not accustomed. they could bear hardships and fatigues in the shape of long journeys on horseback, but the severe, monotonous labour of the plough and the sickle was not to their taste. at first, therefore, they adopted a compromise. they had a portion of their land tilled by russian peasants, and ceded to these a part of the produce in return for the labour expended; in other words, they assumed the position of landed proprietors, and farmed part of their land on the metayage system. the process of transition had reached this point in several aouls which i visited. my friend mehemet zian showed me at some distance from the tents his plot of arable land, and introduced me to the peasant who tilled it--a little-russian, who assured me that the arrangement satisfied all parties. the process of transition cannot, however, stop here. the compromise is merely a temporary expedient. virgin soil gives very abundant harvests, sufficient to support both the labourer and the indolent proprietor, but after a few years the soil becomes exhausted and gives only a very moderate revenue. a proprietor, therefore, must sooner or later dispense with the labourers who take half of the produce as their recompense, and must himself put his hand to the plough. thus we see the bashkirs are, properly speaking, no longer a purely pastoral, nomadic people. the discovery of this fact caused me some little disappointment, and in the hope of finding a tribe in a more primitive condition i visited the kirghiz of the inner horde, who occupy the country to the southward, in the direction of the caspian. here for the first time i saw the genuine steppe in the full sense of the term--a country level as the sea, with not a hillock or even a gentle undulation to break the straight line of the horizon, and not a patch of cultivation, a tree, a bush, or even a stone, to diversify the monotonous expanse. traversing such a region is, i need scarcely say, very weary work--all the more as there are no milestones or other landmarks to show the progress you are making. still, it is not so overwhelmingly wearisome as might be supposed. in the morning you may watch the vast lakes, with their rugged promontories and well-wooded banks, which the mirage creates for your amusement. then during the course of the day there are always one or two trifling incidents which arouse you for a little from your somnolence. now you descry a couple of horsemen on the distant horizon, and watch them as they approach; and when they come alongside you may have a talk with them if you know the language or have an interpreter; or you may amuse yourself with a little pantomime, if articulate speech is impossible. now you encounter a long train of camels marching along with solemn, stately step, and speculate as to the contents of the big packages with which they are laden. now you encounter the carcass of a horse that has fallen by the wayside, and watch the dogs and the steppe eagles fighting over their prey; and if you are murderously inclined you may take a shot with your revolver at these great birds, for they are ignorantly brave, and will sometimes allow you to approach within twenty or thirty yards. at last you perceive--most pleasant sight of all--a group of haystack-shaped tents in the distance; and you hurry on to enjoy the grateful shade, and quench your thirst with "deep, deep draughts" of refreshing kumyss. during my journey through the kirghiz country i was accompanied by a russian gentleman, who had provided himself with a circular letter from the hereditary chieftain of the horde, a personage who rejoiced in the imposing name of genghis khan,* and claimed to be a descendant of the great mongol conqueror. this document assured us a good reception in the aouls through which we passed. every kirghis who saw it treated it with profound respect, and professed to put all his goods and chattels at our service. but in spite of this powerful recommendation we met with none of the friendly cordiality and communicativeness which i had found among the bashkirs. a tent with an unlimited quantity of cushions was always set apart for our accommodation; the sheep were killed and boiled for our dinner, and the pails of kumyss were regularly brought for our refreshment; but all this was evidently done as a matter of duty and not as a spontaneous expression of hospitality. when we determined once or twice to prolong our visit beyond the term originally announced, i could perceive that our host was not at all delighted by the change of our plans. the only consolation we had was that those who entertained us made no scruples about accepting payment for the food and shelter supplied. * i have adopted the ordinary english spelling of this name. the kirghiz and the russians pronounce it "tchinghiz." from all this i have no intention of drawing the conclusion that the kirghiz are, as a people, inhospitable or unfriendly to strangers. my experience of them is too limited to warrant any such inference. the letter of genghis khan insured us all the accommodation we required, but it at the same time gave us a certain official character not at all favourable to the establishment of friendly relations. those with whom we came in contact regarded us as russian officials, and suspected us of having some secret designs. as i endeavoured to discover the number of their cattle, and to form an approximate estimate of their annual revenue, they naturally feared--having no conception of disinterested scientific curiosity--that these data were being collected for the purpose of increasing the taxes, or with some similar intention of a sinister kind. very soon i perceived clearly that any information we might here collect regarding the economic conditions of pastoral life would not be of much value, and i postponed my proposed studies to a more convenient season. the kirghiz are, ethnographically speaking, closely allied to the bashkirs, but differ from them both in physiognomy and language. their features approach much nearer the pure mongol type, and their language is a distinct dialect, which a bashkir or a tartar of kazan has some difficulty in understanding. they are professedly mahometans, but their mahometanism is not of a rigid kind, as may be seen by the fact that their women do not veil their faces even in the presence of ghiaours--a laxness of which the ghiaour will certainly not approve if he happen to be sensitive to female beauty and ugliness. their mode of life differs from that of the bashkirs, but they have proportionately more land and are consequently still able to lead a purely pastoral life. near their western frontier, it is true, they annually let patches of land to the russian peasants for the purpose of raising crops; but these encroachments can never advance very far, for the greater part of their territory is unsuited to agriculture, on account of a large admixture of salt in the soil. this fact will have an important influence on their future. unlike the bashkirs, who possess good arable land, and are consequently on the road to become agriculturists, they will in all probability continue to live exclusively by their flocks and herds. to the southwest of the lower volga, in the flat region lying to the north of the caucasus, we find another pastoral tribe, the kalmyks, differing widely from the two former in language, in physiognomy, and in religion. their language, a dialect of the mongolian, has no close affinity with any other language in this part of the world. in respect of religion they are likewise isolated, for they are buddhists, and have consequently no co-religionists nearer than mongolia or thibet. but it is their physiognomy that most strikingly distinguishes them from the surrounding peoples, and stamps them as mongols of the purest water. there is something almost infra-human in their ugliness. they show in an exaggerated degree all those repulsive traits which we see toned down and refined in the face of an average chinaman; and it is difficult, when we meet them for the first time, to believe that a human soul lurks behind their expressionless, flattened faces and small, dull, obliquely set eyes. if the tartar and turkish races are really descended from ancestors of that type, then we must assume that they have received in the course of time a large admixture of aryan or semitic blood. but we must not be too hard on the poor kalmyks, or judge of their character by their unprepossessing appearance. they are by no means so unhuman as they look. men who have lived among them have assured me that they are decidedly intelligent, especially in all matters relating to cattle, and that they are--though somewhat addicted to cattle-lifting and other primitive customs not tolerated in the more advanced stages of civilisation--by no means wanting in some of the better qualities of human nature. formerly there was a fourth pastoral tribe in this region--the nogai tartars. they occupied the plains to the north of the sea of azof, but they are no longer to be found there. shortly after the crimean war they emigrated to turkey, and their lands are now occupied by russian, german, bulgarian, and montenegrin colonists. among the pastoral tribes of this region the kalmyks are recent intruders. they first appeared in the seventeenth century, and were long formidable on account of their great numbers and compact organisation; but in the majority of them suddenly struck their tents and retreated to their old home in the north of the celestial empire. those who remained were easily pacified, and have long since lost, under the influence of unbroken peace and a strong russian administration, their old warlike spirit. their latest military exploits were performed during the last years of the napoleonic wars, and were not of a very serious kind; a troop of them accompanied the russian army, and astonished western europe by their uncouth features, their strange costume, and their primitive accoutrements, among which their curious bows and arrows figured conspicuously. the other pastoral tribes which i have mentioned--bashkirs, kirghiz, and nogai tartars--are the last remnants of the famous marauders who from time immemorial down to a comparatively recent period held the vast plains of southern russia. the long struggle between them and the agricultural colonists from the northwest, closely resembling the long struggle between the red-skins and the white settlers on the prairies of north america, forms an important page of russian history. for centuries the warlike nomads stoutly resisted all encroachments on their pasture-grounds, and considered cattle-lifting, kidnapping, and pillage as a legitimate and honorable occupation. "their raids," says an old byzantine writer, "are as flashes of lightning, and their retreat is at once heavy and light--heavy from booty and light from the swiftness of their movements. for them a peaceful life is a misfortune, and a convenient opportunity for war is the height of felicity. worst of all, they are more numerous than bees in spring, their numbers are uncountable." "having no fixed place of abode," says another byzantine authority, "they seek to conquer all lands and colonise none. they are flying people, and therefore cannot be caught. as they have neither towns nor villages, they must be hunted like wild beasts, and can be fitly compared only to griffins, which beneficent nature has banished to uninhabited regions." as a persian distich, quoted by vambery, has it-- "they came, conquered, burned, pillaged, murdered, and went." their raids are thus described by an old russian chronicler: "they burn the villages, the farmyards, and the churches. the land is turned by them into a desert, and the overgrown fields become the lair of wild beasts. many people are led away into slavery; others are tortured and killed, or die from hunger and thirst. sad, weary, stiff from cold, with faces wan from woe, barefoot or naked, and torn by the thistles, the russian prisoners trudge along through an unknown country, and, weeping, say to one another, 'i am from such a town, and i from such a village.'" and in harmony with the monastic chroniclers we hear the nameless slavonic ossian wailing for the fallen sons of rus: "in the russian land is rarely heard the voice of the husbandman, but often the cry of the vultures, fighting with each other over the bodies of the slain; and the ravens scream as they fly to the spoil." in spite of the stubborn resistance of the nomads the wave of colonisation moved steadily onwards until the first years of the thirteenth century, when it was suddenly checked and thrown back. a great mongolian horde from eastern asia, far more numerous and better organized than the local nomadic tribes, overran the whole country, and for more than two centuries russia was in a certain sense ruled by mongol khans. as i wish to speak at some length of this mongol domination, i shall devote to it a separate chapter. chapter xiv the mongol domination the conquest--genghis khan and his people--creation and rapid disintegration of the mongol empire--the golden horde--the real character of the mongol domination--religious toleration--mongol system of government--grand princes--the princes of moscow--influence of the mongol domination--practical importance of the subject. the tartar invasion, with its direct and indirect consequences, is a subject which has more than a mere antiquarian interest. to the influence of the mongols are commonly attributed many peculiarities in the actual condition and national character of the russians of the present day, and some writers would even have us believe that the men whom we call russians are simply tartars half disguised by a thin varnish of european civilisation. it may be well, therefore, to inquire what the tartar or mongol domination really was, and how far it affected the historical development and national character of the russian people. the story of the conquest may be briefly told. in the chieftains of the poloftsi--one of those pastoral tribes which roamed on the steppe and habitually carried on a predatory warfare with the russians of the south--sent deputies to mistislaf the brave, prince of galicia, to inform him that their country had been invaded from the southeast by strong, cruel enemies called tartars*--strange-looking men with brown faces, eyes small and wide apart, thick lips, broad shoulders, and black hair. "today," said the deputies, "they have seized our country, and tomorrow they will seize yours if you do not help us." * the word is properly "tatar," and the russians write and pronounce it in this way, but i have preferred to retain the better known form. mistislaf had probably no objection to the poloftsi being annihilated by some tribe stronger and fiercer than themselves, for they gave him a great deal of trouble by their frequent raids; but he perceived the force of the argument about his own turn coming next, and thought it wise to assist his usually hostile neighbours. for the purpose of warding off the danger he called together the neighbouring princes, and urged them to join him in an expedition against the new enemy. the expedition was undertaken, and ended in disaster. on the kalka, a small river falling into the sea of azof, the russian host met the invaders, and was completely routed. the country was thereby opened to the victors, but they did not follow up their advantage. after advancing for some distance they suddenly wheeled round and disappeared. thus ended unexpectedly the first visit of these unwelcome strangers. thirteen years afterwards they returned, and were not so easily got rid of. an enormous horde crossed the river ural and advanced into the heart of the country, pillaging, burning, devastating, and murdering. nowhere did they meet with serious resistance. the princes made no attempt to combine against the common enemy. nearly all the principal towns were laid in ashes, and the inhabitants were killed or carried off as slaves. having conquered russia, they advanced westward, and threw all europe into alarm. the panic reached even england, and interrupted, it is said, for a time the herring fishing on the coast. western europe, however, escaped their ravages. after visiting poland, hungary, bulgaria, servia, and dalmatia, they retreated to the lower volga, and the russian princes were summoned thither to do homage to the victorious khan. at first the russians had only very vague notions as to who this terrible enemy was. the old chronicler remarks briefly: "for our sins unknown peoples have appeared. no one knows who they are or whence they have come, or to what race and faith they belong. they are commonly called tartars, but some call them tauermen, and others petchenegs. who they really are is known only to god, and perhaps to wise men deeply read in books." some of these "wise men deeply read in books" supposed them to be the idolatrous moabites who had in old testament times harassed god's chosen people, whilst others thought that they must be the descendants of the men whom gideon had driven out, of whom a revered saint had prophesied that they would come in the latter days and conquer the whole earth, from the east even unto the euphrates, and from the tigris even unto the black sea. we are now happily in a position to dispense with such vague ethnographical speculations. from the accounts of several european travellers who visited tartary about that time, and from the writings of various oriental historians, we know a great deal about these barbarians who conquered russia and frightened the western nations. the vast region lying to the east of russia, from the basin of the volga to the shores of the pacific ocean, was inhabited then, as it is still, by numerous tartar and mongol tribes. these two terms are often regarded as identical and interchangeable, but they ought, i think, to be distinguished. from the ethnographic, the linguistic, and the religious point of view they differ widely from each other. the kazan tartars, the bashkirs, the kirghiz, in a word, all the tribes in the country stretching latitudinally from the volga to kashgar, and longitudinally from the persian frontier, the hindu kush and the northern himalaya, to a line drawn east and west through the middle of siberia, belong to the tartar group; whereas those further eastward, occupying mongolia and manchuria, are mongol in the stricter sense of the term. a very little experience enables the traveller to distinguish between the two. both of them have the well-known characteristics of the northern asiatic--the broad flat face, yellow skin, small, obliquely set eyes, high cheekbones, thin, straggling beard; but these traits are more strongly marked, more exaggerated, if we may use such an expression, in the mongol than in the tartar. thus the mongol is, according to our conceptions, by far the uglier of the two, and the man of tartar race, when seen beside him, appears almost european by comparison. the distinction is confirmed by a study of their languages. all the tartar languages are closely allied, so that a person of average linguistic talent who has mastered one of them, whether it be the rude turki of central asia or the highly polished turkish of stambul, can easily acquire any of the others; whereas even an extensive acquaintance with the tartar dialects will be of no practical use to him in learning a language of the mongol group. in their religions likewise the two races differ. the mongols are as a rule shamanists or buddhists, while the tartars are mahometans. some of the mongol invaders, it is true, adopted mahometanism from the conquered tartar tribes, and by this change of religion, which led naturally to intermarriage, their descendants became gradually blended with the older population; but the broad line of distinction was not permanently effaced. it is often supposed, even by people who profess to be acquainted with russian history, that mongols and tartars alike first came westward to the frontiers of europe with genghis khan. this is true of the mongols, but so far as the tartars are concerned it is an entire mistake. from time immemorial the tartar tribes roamed over these territories. like the russians, they were conquered by the mongol invaders and had long to pay tribute, and when the mongol empire crumbled to pieces by internal dissensions and finally disappeared before the victorious advance of the russians, the tartars reappeared from the confusion without having lost, notwithstanding an intermixture doubtless of mongol blood, their old racial characteristics, their old dialects, and their old tribal organisation. the germ of the vast horde which swept over asia and advanced into the centre of europe was a small pastoral tribe of mongols living in the hilly country to the north of china, near the sources of the amur. this tribe was neither more warlike nor more formidable than its neighbours till near the close of the twelfth century, when there appeared in it a man who is described as "a mighty hunter before the lord." of him and his people we have a brief description by a chinese author of the time: "a man of gigantic stature, with broad forehead and long beard, and remarkable for his bravery. as to his people, their faces are broad, flat, and four-cornered, with prominent cheek-bones; their eyes have no upper eyelashes; they have very little hair in their beards and moustaches; their exterior is very repulsive." this man of gigantic stature was no other than genghis khan. he began by subduing and incorporating into his army the surrounding tribes, conquered with their assistance a great part of northern china, and then, leaving one of his generals to complete the conquest of the celestial empire, he led his army westward with the ambitious design of conquering the whole world. "as there is but one god in heaven," he was wont to say, "so there should be but one ruler on earth"; and this one universal ruler he himself aspired to be. a european army necessarily diminishes in force and its existence becomes more and more imperilled as it advances from its base of operations into a foreign and hostile country. not so a horde like that of genghis khan in a country such as that which it had to traverse. it needed no base of operations, for it took with it its flocks, its tents, and all its worldly goods. properly speaking, it was not an army at all, but rather a people in movement. the grassy steppes fed the flocks, and the flocks fed the warriors; and with such a simple commissariat system there was no necessity for keeping up communications with the point of departure. instead of diminishing in numbers, the horde constantly increased as it moved forwards. the nomadic tribes which it encountered on its way, composed of men who found a home wherever they found pasture and drinking-water, required little persuasion to make them join the onward movement. by means of this terrible instrument of conquest genghis succeeded in creating a colossal empire, stretching from the carpathians to the eastern shores of asia, and from the arctic ocean to the himalayas. genghis was no mere ruthless destroyer; he was at the same time one of the greatest administrators the world has ever seen. but his administrative genius could not work miracles. his vast empire, founded on conquest and composed of the most heterogeneous elements, had no principle of organic life in it, and could not possibly be long-lived. it had been created by him, and it perished with him. for some time after his death the dignity of grand khan was held by some one of his descendants, and the centralised administration was nominally preserved; but the local rulers rapidly emancipated themselves from the central authority, and within half a century after the death of its founder the great mongol empire was little more than "a geographical expression." with the dismemberment of the short-lived empire the danger for eastern europe was by no means at an end. the independent hordes were scarcely less formidable than the empire itself. a grandson of genghis formed on the russian frontier a new state, commonly known as kiptchak, or the golden horde, and built a capital called serai, on one of the arms of the lower volga. this capital, which has since so completely disappeared that there is some doubt as to its site, is described by ibn batuta, who visited it in the fifteenth century, as a very great, populous, and beautiful city, possessing many mosques, fine market-places, and broad streets, in which were to be seen merchants from babylon, egypt, syria, and other countries. here lived the khans of the golden horde, who kept russia in subjection for two centuries. in conquering russia the mongols had no wish to possess themselves of the soil, or to take into their own hands the local administration. what they wanted was not land, of which they had enough and to spare, but movable property which they might enjoy without giving up their pastoral, nomadic life. they applied, therefore, to russia the same method of extracting supplies as they had used in other countries. as soon as their authority had been formally acknowledged they sent officials into the country to number the inhabitants and to collect an amount of tribute proportionate to the population. this was a severe burden for the people, not only on account of the sum demanded, but also on account of the manner in which it was raised. the exactions and cruelty of the tax-gatherers led to local insurrections, and the insurrections were of course always severely punished. but there was never any general military occupation of the country or any wholesale confiscations of land, and the existing political organisation was left undisturbed. the modern method of dealing with annexed provinces was totally unknown to the mongols. the khans never thought of attempting to denationalise their russian subjects. they demanded simply an oath of allegiance from the princes* and a certain sum of tribute from the people. the vanquished were allowed to retain their land, their religion, their language, their courts of justice, and all their other institutions. * during the mongol domination russia was composed of a large number of independent principalities. the nature of the mongol domination is well illustrated by the policy which the conquerors adopted towards the russian church. for more than half a century after the conquest the religion of the tartars was a mixture of buddhism and paganism, with traces of sabaeism or fire-worship. during this period christianity was more than simply tolerated. the grand khan kuyuk caused a christian chapel to be erected near his domicile, and one of his successors, khubilai, was in the habit of publicly taking part in the easter festivals. in the khan of the golden horde allowed the russians to found a bishopric in his capital, and several members of his family adopted christianity. one of them even founded a monastery, and became a saint of the russian church! the orthodox clergy were exempted from the poll-tax, and in the charters granted to them it was expressly declared that if any one committed blasphemy against the faith of the russians he should be put to death. some time afterwards the golden horde was converted to islam, but the khans did not on that account change their policy. they continued to favour the clergy, and their protection was long remembered. many generations later, when the property of the church was threatened by the autocratic power, refractory ecclesiastics contrasted the policy of the orthodox sovereign with that of the "godless tartars," much to the advantage of the latter. at first there was and could be very little mutual confidence between the conquerors and the conquered. the princes anxiously looked for an opportunity of throwing off the galling yoke, and the people chafed under the exactions and cruelty of the tribute-collectors, whilst the khans took precautions to prevent insurrection, and threatened to devastate the country if their authority was not respected. but in the course of time this mutual distrust and hostility greatly lessened. when the princes found by experience that all attempts at resistance were fruitless, they became reconciled to their new position, and instead of seeking to throw off the khan's authority, they tried to gain his favour, in the hope of forwarding their personal interests. for this purpose they paid frequent visits to the tartar suzerain, made rich presents to his wives and courtiers, received from him charters confirming their authority, and sometimes even married members of his family. some of them used the favour thus acquired for extending their possessions at the expense of neighbouring princes of their own race, and did not hesitate to call in tartar hordes to their assistance. the khans, in their turn, placed greater confidence in their vassals, entrusted them with the task of collecting the tribute, recalled their own officials who were a constant eyesore to the people, and abstained from all interference in the internal affairs of the principalities so long as the tribute was regularly paid. the princes acted, in short, as the khan's lieutenants, and became to a certain extent tartarised. some of them carried this policy so far that they were reproached by the people with "loving beyond measure the tartars and their language, and with giving them too freely land, and gold, and goods of every kind." had the khans of the golden horde been prudent, far-seeing statesmen, they might have long retained their supremacy over russia. in reality they showed themselves miserably deficient in political talent. seeking merely to extract from the country as much tribute as possible, they overlooked all higher considerations, and by this culpable shortsightedness prepared their own political ruin. instead of keeping all the russian princes on the same level and thereby rendering them all equally feeble, they were constantly bribed or cajoled into giving to one or more of their vassals a pre-eminence over the others. at first this pre-eminence consisted in little more than the empty title of grand prince; but the vassals thus favoured soon transformed the barren distinction into a genuine power by arrogating to themselves the exclusive right of holding direct communications with the horde, and compelling the minor princes to deliver to them the mongol tribute. if any of the lesser princes refused to acknowledge this intermediate authority, the grand prince could easily crush them by representing them at the horde as rebels. such an accusation would cause the accused to be summoned before the supreme tribunal, where the procedure was extremely summary and the grand prince had always the means of obtaining a decision in his own favour. of the princes who strove in this way to increase their influence, the most successful were the grand princes of moscow. they were not a chivalrous race, or one with which the severe moralist can sympathise, but they were largely endowed with cunning, tact, and perseverance, and were little hampered by conscientious scruples. having early discovered that the liberal distribution of money at the tartar court was the surest means of gaining favour, they lived parsimoniously at home and spent their savings at the horde. to secure the continuance of the favour thus acquired, they were ready to form matrimonial alliances with the khan's family, and to act zealously as his lieutenants. when novgorod, the haughty, turbulent republic, refused to pay the yearly tribute, they quelled the insurrection and punished the leaders; and when the inhabitants of tver rose against the tartars and compelled their prince to make common cause with them, the wily muscovite hastened to the tartar court and received from the khan the revolted principality, with , tartars to support his authority. thus those cunning moscow princes "loved the tartars beyond measure" so long as the khan was irresistibly powerful, but as his power waned they stood forth as his rivals. when the golden horde, like the great empire of which it had once formed a part, fell to pieces in the fifteenth century, these ambitious princes read the signs of the times, and put themselves at the head of the liberation movement, which was at first unsuccessful, but ultimately freed the country from the hated yoke. from this brief sketch of the mongol domination the reader will readily understand that it did not leave any deep, lasting impression on the people. the invaders never settled in russia proper, and never amalgamated with the native population. so long as they retained their semi-pagan, semi-buddhistic religion, a certain number of their notables became christians and were absorbed by the russian noblesse; but as soon as the horde adopted islam this movement was arrested. there was no blending of the two races such as has taken place--and is still taking place--between the russian peasantry and the finnish tribes of the north. the russians remained christians, and the tartars remained mahometans; and this difference of religion raised an impassable barrier between the two nationalities. it must, however, be admitted that the tartar domination, though it had little influence on the life and habits of the people, had a considerable influence on the political development of the nation. at the time of the conquest russia was composed of a large number of independent principalities, all governed by descendants of rurik. as these principalities were not geographical or ethnographical units, but mere artificial, arbitrarily defined districts, which were regularly subdivided or combined according to the hereditary rights of the princes, it is highly probable that they would in any case have been sooner or later united under one sceptre; but it is quite certain that the policy of the khans helped to accelerate this unification and to create the autocratic power which has since been wielded by the tsars. if the principalities had been united without foreign interference we should probably have found in the united state some form of political organisation corresponding to that which existed in the component parts--some mixed form of government, in which the political power would have been more or less equally divided between the tsar and the people. the tartar rule interrupted this normal development by extinguishing all free political life. the first tsars of muscovy were the political descendants, not of the old independent princes, but of the mongol khans. it may be said, therefore, that the autocratic power, which has been during the last four centuries out of all comparison the most important factor in russian history, was in a certain sense created by the mongol domination. chapter xv the cossacks lawlessness on the steppe--slave-markets of the crimea--the military cordon and the free cossacks--the zaporovian commonwealth compared with sparta and with the mediaeval military orders--the cossacks of the don, of the volga, and of the ural--border warfare--the modern cossacks--land tenure among the cossacks of the don--the transition from pastoral to agriculture life--"universal law" of social development--communal versus private property--flogging as a means of land-registration. no sooner had the grand princes of moscow thrown off the mongol yoke and become independent tsars of muscovy than they began that eastward territorial expansion which has been going on steadily ever since, and which culminated in the occupation of talienwan and port arthur. ivan the terrible conquered the khanates of kazan and astrakhan ( - ) and reduced to nominal subjection the bashkir and kirghiz tribes in the vicinity of the volga, but he did not thereby establish law and order on the steppe. the lawless tribes retained their old pastoral mode of life and predatory habits, and harassed the russian agricultural population of the outlying provinces in the same way as the red indians in america used to harass the white colonists of the far west. a large section of the horde, inhabiting the crimea and the steppe to the north of the black sea, escaped annexation by submitting to the ottoman turks and becoming tributaries of the sultan. the turks were at that time a formidable power, with which the tsars of muscovy were too weak to cope successfully, and the khan of the crimea could always, when hard pressed by his northern neighbours, obtain assistance from constantinople. this potentate exercised a nominal authority over the pastoral tribes which roamed on the steppe between the crimea and the russian frontier, but he had neither the power nor the desire to control their aggressive tendencies. their raids in russian and polish territory ensured, among other advantages, a regular and plentiful supply of slaves, which formed the chief article of export from kaffa--the modern theodosia--and from the other seaports of the coast. of this slave trade, which flourished down to , when the crimea was finally conquered and annexed by russia, we have a graphic account by an eye-witness, a lithuanian traveller of the sixteenth century. "ships from asia," he says, "bring arms, clothes, and horses to the crimean tartars, and start on the homeward voyage laden with slaves. it is for this kind of merchandise alone that the crimean markets are remarkable. slaves may be always had for sale as a pledge or as a present, and every one rich enough to have a horse deals in them. if a man wishes to buy clothes, arms, or horses, and does not happen to have at the moment any slaves, he takes on credit the articles required, and makes a formal promise to deliver at a certain time a certain number of people of our blood--being convinced that he can get by that time the requisite number. and these promises are always accurately fulfilled, as if those who made them had always a supply of our people in their courtyards. a jewish money-changer, sitting at the gate of tauris and seeing constantly the countless multitude of our countrymen led in as captives, asked us whether there still remained any people in our land, and whence came such a multitude of them. the stronger of these captives, branded on the forehead and cheeks and manacled or fettered, are tortured by severe labour all day, and are shut up in dark cells at night. they are kept alive by small quantities of food, composed chiefly of the flesh of animals that have died--putrid, covered with maggots, disgusting even to dogs. women, who are more tender, are treated in a different fashion; some of them who can sing and play are employed to amuse the guests at festivals. "when the slaves are led out for sale they walk to the marketplace in single file, like storks on the wing, in whole dozens, chained together by the neck, and are there sold by auction. the auctioneer shouts loudly that they are 'the newest arrivals, simple, and not cunning, lately captured from the people of the kingdom (poland), and not from muscovy'; for the muscovite race, being crafty and deceitful, does not bring a good price. this kind of merchandise is appraised with great accuracy in the crimea, and is bought by foreign merchants at a high price, in order to be sold at a still higher rate to blacker nations, such as saracens, persians, indians, arabs, syrians, and assyrians. when a purchase is made the teeth are examined, to see that they are neither few nor discoloured. at the same time the more hidden parts of the body are carefully inspected, and if a mole, excrescence, wound, or other latent defect is discovered, the bargain is rescinded. but notwithstanding these investigations the cunning slave-dealers and brokers succeed in cheating the buyers; for when they have valuable boys and girls, they do not at once produce them, but first fatten them, clothe them in silk, and put powder and rouge on their cheeks, so as to sell them at a better price. sometimes beautiful and perfect maidens of our nation bring their weight in gold. this takes place in all the towns of the peninsula, but especially in kaffa."* * michalonis litvani, "de moribus tartarorum fragmina," x., basilliae, . to protect the agricultural population of the steppe against the raids of these thieving, cattle-lifting, kidnapping neighbours, the tsars of muscovy and the kings of poland built forts, constructed palisades, dug trenches, and kept up a regular military cordon. the troops composing this cordon were called cossacks; but these were not the "free cossacks" best known to history and romance. these latter lived beyond the frontier on the debatable land which lay between the two hostile races, and there they formed self-governing military communities. each one of the rivers flowing southwards--the dnieper, the don, the volga, and the yaik or ural--was held by a community of these free cossacks, and no one, whether christian or tartar, was allowed to pass through their territory without their permission. officially the free cossacks were russians, for they professed to be champions of orthodox christianity, and--with the exception of those of the dnieper--loyal subjects of the tsar; but in reality they were something different. though they were russian by origin, language, and sympathy, the habit of kidnapping tartar women introduced among them a certain admixture of tartar blood. though self-constituted champions of christianity and haters of islam, they troubled themselves very little with religion, and did not submit to the ecclesiastical authorities. as to their religious status, it cannot be easily defined. whilst professing allegiance and devotion to the tsar, they did not think it necessary to obey him, except in so far as his orders suited their own convenience. and the tsar, it must be confessed, acted towards them in a similar fashion. when he found it convenient he called them his faithful subjects; and when complaints were made to him about their raids in turkish territory, he declared that they were not his subjects, but runaways and brigands, and that the sultan might punish them as he saw fit. at the same time, the so-called runaways and brigands regularly received supplies and ammunition from moscow, as is amply proved by recently-published documents. down to the middle of the seventeenth century the cossacks of the dnieper stood in a similar relation to the polish kings; but at that time they threw off their allegiance to poland, and became subjects of the tsars of muscovy. of these semi-independent military communities, which formed a continuous barrier along the southern and southeastern frontier, the most celebrated were the zaporovians* of the dnieper, and the cossacks of the don. * the name "zaporovians," by which they are known in the west, is a corruption of the russian word zaporozhtsi, which means "those who live beyond the rapids." the zaporovian commonwealth has been compared sometimes to ancient sparta, and sometimes to the mediaeval military orders, but it had in reality quite a different character. in sparta the nobles kept in subjection a large population of slaves, and were themselves constantly under the severe discipline of the magistrates. these cossacks of the dnieper, on the contrary, lived by fishing, hunting, and marauding, and knew nothing of discipline, except in time of war. amongst all the inhabitants of the setch--so the fortified camp was called--there reigned the most perfect equality. the common saying, "bear patiently, cossack; you will one day be ataman!" was often realised; for every year the office-bearers laid down the insignia of office in presence of the general assembly, and after thanking the brotherhood for the honour they had enjoyed, retired to their former position of common cossack. at the election which followed this ceremony any member could be chosen chief of his kuren, or company, and any chief of a kuren could be chosen ataman. the comparison of these bold borderers with the mediaeval military orders is scarcely less forced. they call themselves, indeed, lytsars--a corruption of the russian word ritsar, which is in its turn a corruption of the german ritter--talked of knightly honour (lytsarskaya tchest'), and sometimes proclaimed themselves the champions of greek orthodoxy against the roman catholicism of the poles and the mahometanism of the tartars; but religion occupied in their minds a very secondary place. their great object in life was the acquisition of booty. to attain this object they lived in intermittent warfare with the tartars, lifted their cattle, pillaged their aouls, swept the black sea in flotillas of small boats, and occasionally sacked important coast towns, such as varna and sinope. when tartar booty could not be easily obtained, they turned their attention to the slavonic populations; and when hard pressed by christian potentates, they did not hesitate to put themselves under the protection of the sultan. the cossacks of the don, of the volga, and of the ural had a somewhat different organisation. they had no fortified camp like the setch, but lived in villages, and assembled as necessity demanded. as they were completely beyond the sphere of polish influence, they knew nothing about "knightly honour" and similar conceptions of western chivalry; they even adopted many tartar customs, and loved in time of peace to strut about in gorgeous tartar costumes. besides this, they were nearly all emigrants from great russia, and mostly old ritualists or sectarians, whilst the zaporovians were little russians and orthodox. these military communities rendered valuable service to russia. the best means of protecting the southern frontier was to have as allies a large body of men leading the same kind of life and capable of carrying on the same kind of warfare as the nomadic marauders; and such a body of men were the free cossacks. the sentiment of self-preservation and the desire of booty kept them constantly on the alert. by sending out small parties in all directions, by "procuring tongues"--that is to say, by kidnapping and torturing straggling tartars with a view to extracting information from them--and by keeping spies in the enemy's territory, they were generally apprised beforehand of any intended incursion. when danger threatened, the ordinary precautions were redoubled. day and night patrols kept watch at the points where the enemy was expected, and as soon as sure signs of his approach were discovered a pile of tarred barrels prepared for the purpose was fired to give the alarm. rapidly the signal was repeated at one point of observation after another, and by this primitive system of telegraphy in the course of a few hours the whole district was up in arms. if the invaders were not too numerous, they were at once attacked and driven back. if they could not be successfully resisted, they were allowed to pass; but a troop of cossacks was sent to pillage their aouls in their absence, whilst another and larger force was collected, in order to intercept them when they were returning home laden with booty. thus many a nameless battle was fought on the trackless steppe, and many brave men fell unhonoured and unsung: "illacrymabiles urgentur ignotique longa nocte, carent quia vate sacro." notwithstanding these valuable services, the cossack communities were a constant source of diplomatic difficulties and political dangers. as they paid very little attention to the orders of the government, they supplied the sultan with any number of casi belli, and were often ready to turn their arms against the power to which they professed allegiance. during "the troublous times," for example, when the national existence was endangered by civil strife and foreign invasion, they overran the country, robbing, pillaging, and burning as they were wont to do in the tartar aouls. at a later period the don cossacks twice raised formidable insurrections--first under stenka razin ( ), and secondly under pugatchef ( )--and during the war between peter the great and charles xii. of sweden the zaporovians took the side of the swedish king. the government naturally strove to put an end to this danger, and ultimately succeeded. all the cossacks were deprived of their independence, but the fate of the various communities was different. those of the volga were transfered to the terek, where they had abundant occupation in guarding the frontier against the incursions of the eastern caucasian tribes. the zaporovians held tenaciously to their "dnieper liberties," and resisted all interference, till they were forcibly disbanded in the time of catherine ii. the majority of them fled to turkey, where some of their descendants are still to be found, and the remainder were settled on the kuban, where they could lead their old life by carrying on an irregular warfare with the tribes of the western caucasus. since the capture of shamyl and the pacification of the caucasus, this cossack population of the kuban and the terek, extending in an unbroken line from the sea of azof to the caspian, have been able to turn their attention to peaceful pursuits, and now raise large quantities of wheat for exportation; but they still retain their martial bearing, and some of them regret the good old times when a brush with the circassians was an ordinary occurrence and the work of tilling the soil was often diversified with a more exciting kind of occupation. the cossacks of the ural and the don have been allowed to remain in their old homes, but they have been deprived of their independence and self-government, and their social organisation has been completely changed. the boisterous popular assemblies which formerly decided all public affairs have been abolished, and the custom of choosing the ataman and other office-bearers by popular election has been replaced by a system of regular promotion, according to rules elaborated in st. petersburg. the officers and their families now compose a kind of hereditary aristocracy which has succeeded in appropriating, by means of imperial grants, a large portion of the land which was formerly common property. as the empire expanded in asia the system of protecting the parties by cossack colonists was extended eastwards, so now there is a belt of cossack territory stretching almost without interruption from the banks of the don to the coast of the pacific. it is divided into eleven sections, in each of which is settled a cossack corps with a separate administration. when universal military service was introduced, in , the cossacks were brought under the new law, but in order to preserve their military traditions and habits they were allowed to retain, with certain modifications, their old organisation, rights, and privileges. in return for a large amount of fertile land and exemption from direct taxation, they have to equip themselves at their own expense, and serve for twenty years, of which three are spent in preparatory training, twelve in the active army, and five in the reserve. this system gives to the army a contingent of about , men--divided into squadrons and infantry companies--with guns. the cossacks in active service are to be met with in all parts of the empire, from the prussian to the chinese frontier. in the asiatic provinces their services are invaluable. capable of enduring an incredible amount of fatigue and all manner of privations, they can live and thrive in conditions which would soon disable regular troops. the capacity of self-adaptation, which is characteristic of the russian people generally, is possessed by them in the highest degree. when placed on some distant asiatic frontier they can at once transform themselves into squatters--building their own houses, raising crops of grain, and living as colonists without neglecting their military duties. i have sometimes heard it asserted by military men that the cossack organisation is an antiquated institution, and that the soldiers which it produces, however useful they may be in central asia, would be of little service in regular european warfare. whether this view, which received some confirmation in the russo-turkish war of - , is true or false i cannot pretend to say, for it is a subject on which a civilian has no right to speak; but i may remark that the cossacks themselves are not by any means of that opinion. they regard themselves as the most valuable troops which the tsar possesses, believing themselves capable of performing anything within the bounds of human possibility, and a good deal that lies beyond that limit. more than once don cossacks have assured me that if the tsar had allowed them to fit out a flotilla of small boats during the crimean war they would have captured the british fleet, as their ancestors used to capture turkish galleys on the black sea! in old times, throughout the whole territory of the don cossacks, agriculture was prohibited on pain of death. it is generally supposed that this measure was adopted with a view to preserve the martial spirit of the inhabitants, but it may be explained otherwise. the great majority of the cossacks, averse to all regular, laborious occupations, wished to live by fishing, hunting, cattle-breeding, and marauding, but there was always amongst them a considerable number of immigrants--runaway serfs from the interior--who had been accustomed to live by agriculture. these latter wished to raise crops on the fertile virgin soil, and if they had been allowed to do so they would to some extent have spoiled the pastures. we have here, i believe, the true reason for the above-mentioned prohibition, and this view is strongly confirmed by analogous facts which i have observed in another locality. in the kirghiz territory the poorer inhabitants of the aouls near the frontier, having few or no cattle, wish to let part of the common land to the neighbouring russian peasantry for agricultural purposes; but the richer inhabitants, who possess flocks and herds, strenuously oppose this movement, and would doubtless prohibit it under pain of death if they had the power, because all agricultural encroachments diminish the pasture-land. whatever was the real reason of the prohibition, practical necessity proved in the long run too strong for the anti-agriculturists. as the population augmented and the opportunities for marauding decreased, the majority had to overcome their repugnance to husbandry; and soon large patches of ploughed land or waving grain were to be seen in the vicinity of the stanitsas, as the cossack villages are termed. at first there was no attempt to regulate this new use of the ager publicus. each cossack who wished to raise a crop ploughed and sowed wherever he thought fit, and retained as long as he chose the land thus appropriated; and when the soil began to show signs of exhaustion he abandoned his plot and ploughed elsewhere. but this unregulated use of the communal property could not long continue. as the number of agriculturists increased, quarrels frequently arose, and sometimes terminated in bloodshed. still worse evils appeared when markets were created in the vicinity, and it became possible to sell the grain for exportation. in some stanitsas the richer families appropriated enormous quantities of the common land by using several teams of oxen, or by hiring peasants in the nearest villages to come and plough for them; and instead of abandoning the land after raising two or three crops they retained possession of it, and came to regard it as their private property. thus the whole of the arable land, or at least the best part of it, became actually, if not legally, the private property of a few families, whilst the less energetic or less fortunate inhabitants of the stanitsa had only parcels of comparatively barren soil, or had no land whatever, and became mere agricultural labourers. after a time this injustice was remedied. the landless members justly complained that they had to bear the same burdens as those who possessed the land, and that therefore they ought to enjoy the same privileges. the old spirit of equality was still strong amongst them, and they ultimately succeeded in asserting their rights. in accordance with their demands the appropriated land was confiscated by the commune, and the system of periodical redistributions was introduced. by this system each adult male possesses a share of the land. these facts tend to throw light on some of the dark questions of social development in its early stages. so long as a village community leads a purely pastoral life, and possesses an abundance of land, there is no reason why the individuals or the families of which it is composed should divide the land into private lots, and there are very potent reasons why they should not adopt such a course. to give the division of the land any practical significance, it would be necessary to raise fences of some kind, and these fences, requiring for their construction a certain amount of labour, would prove merely a useless encumbrance, for it is much more convenient that all the sheep and cattle should graze together. if there is a scarcity of pasture, and consequently a conflict of interest among the families, the enjoyment of the common land will be regulated not by raising fences, but by simply limiting the number of sheep and cattle which each family is entitled to put upon the pasturage, as is done in many russian villages at the present day. when any one desires to keep more sheep and cattle than the maximum to which he is entitled, he pays to the others a certain compensation. thus, we see, in pastoral life the dividing of the common land is unnecessary and inexpedient, and consequently private property in land is not likely to come into existence. with the introduction of agriculture appears a tendency to divide the land among the families composing the community, for each family living by husbandry requires a definite portion of the soil. if the land suitable for agricultural purposes be plentiful, each head of a family may be allowed to take possession of as much of it as he requires, as was formerly done in the cossack stanitsas; if, on the contrary, the area of arable land is small, as is the case in some bashkir aouls, there will probably be a regular allotment of it among the families. with the tendency to divide the land into definite portions arises a conflict between the principle of communal and the principle of private property. those who obtain definite portions of the soil are in general likely to keep them and transmit them to their descendants. in a country, however, like the steppe--and it is only of such countries that i am at present speaking--the nature of the soil and the system of agriculture militate against this conversion of simple possession into a right of property. a plot of land is commonly cultivated for only three or four years in succession. it is then abandoned for at least double that period, and the cultivators remove to some other portion of the communal territory. after a time, it is true, they return to the old portion, which has been in the meantime lying fallow; but as the soil is tolerably equal in quality, the families or individuals have no reason to desire the precise plots which they formerly possessed. under such circumstances the principle of private property in the land is not likely to strike root; each family insists on possessing a certain quantity rather than a certain plot of land, and contents itself with a right of usufruct, whilst the right of property remains in the hands of the commune; and it must not be forgotten that the difference between usufruct and property here is of great practical importance, for so long as the commune retains the right of property it may re-allot the land in any way it thinks fit. as the population increases and land becomes less plentiful, the primitive method of agriculture above alluded to gives place to a less primitive method, commonly known as "the three-field system," according to which the cultivators do not migrate periodically from one part of the communal territory to another, but till always the same fields, and are obliged to manure the plots which they occupy. the principle of communal property rarely survives this change, for by long possession the families acquire a prescriptive right to the portions which they cultivate, and those who manure their land well naturally object to exchange it for land which has been held by indolent, improvident neighbours. in russia, however, this change has not destroyed the principle of communal property. though the three-field system has been in use for many generations in the central provinces, the communal principle, with its periodical re-allotment of the land, still remains intact. for the student of sociology the past history and actual condition of the don cossacks present many other features equally interesting and instructive. he may there see, for instance, how an aristocracy can be created by military promotion, and how serfage may originate and become a recognised institution without any legislative enactment. if he takes an interest in peculiar manifestations of religious thought and feeling, he will find a rich field of investigation in the countless religious sects; and if he is a collector of quaint old customs, he will not lack occupation. one curious custom, which has very recently died out, i may here mention by way of illustration. as the cossacks knew very little about land-surveying, and still less about land-registration, the precise boundary between two contiguous yurts--as the communal land of a stanitsa was called--was often a matter of uncertainty and a fruitful source of disputes. when the boundary was once determined, the following method of registering it was employed. all the boys of the two stanitsas were collected and driven in a body like sheep to the intervening frontier. the whole population then walked along the frontier that had been agreed upon, and at each landmark a number of boys were soundly whipped and allowed to run home! this was done in the hope that the victims would remember, as long as they lived, the spot where they had received their unmerited castigation.* the device, i have been assured, was generally very effective, but it was not always quite successful. whether from the castigation not being sufficiently severe, or from some other defect in the method, it sometimes happened that disputes afterwards arose, and the whipped boys, now grown up to manhood, gave conflicting testimony. when such a case occurred the following expedient was adopted. one of the oldest inhabitants was chosen as arbiter, and made to swear on the scriptures that he would act honestly to the best of his knowledge; then taking an icon in his hand, he walked along what he believed to be the old frontier. whether he made mistakes or not, his decision was accepted by both parties and regarded as final. this custom existed in some stanitsas down to the year , when the boundaries were clearly determined by government officials. * a custom of this kind, i am told, existed not very long ago in england and is still spoken of as "the beating of the bounds." chapter xvi foreign colonists on the steppe the steppe--variety of races, languages, and religions--the german colonists--in what sense the russians are an imitative people--the mennonites--climate and arboriculture--bulgarian colonists--tartar-speaking greeks--jewish agriculturists--russification--a circassian scotchman--numerical strength of the foreign element. in european russia the struggle between agriculture and nomadic barbarism is now a thing of the past, and the fertile steppe, which was for centuries a battle-ground of the aryan and turanian races, has been incorporated into the dominions of the tsar. the nomadic tribes have been partly driven out and partly pacified and parked in "reserves," and the territory which they so long and so stubbornly defended is now studded with peaceful villages and tilled by laborious agriculturists. in traversing this region the ordinary tourist will find little to interest him. he will see nothing which he can possibly dignify by the name of scenery, and he may journey on for many days without having any occasion to make an entry in his note-book. if he should happen, however, to be an ethnologist and linguist, he may find occupation, for he will here meet with fragments of many different races and a variety of foreign tongues. this ethnological variety is the result of a policy inaugurated by catherine ii. so long as the southern frontier was pushed forward slowly, the acquired territory was regularly filled up by russian peasants from the central provinces who were anxious to obtain more land and more liberty than they enjoyed in their native villages; but during "the glorious age of catherine" the frontier was pushed forward so rapidly that the old method of spontaneous emigration no longer sufficed to people the annexed territory. the empress had recourse, therefore, to organised emigration from foreign countries. her diplomatic representatives in western europe tried to induce artisans and peasants to emigrate to russia, and special agents were sent to various countries to supplement the efforts of the diplomatists. thousands accepted the invitation, and were for the most part settled on the land which had been recently the pasture-ground of the nomadic hordes. this policy was adopted by succeeding sovereigns, and the consequence of it has been that southern russia now contains a variety of races such as is to be found, perhaps, nowhere else in europe. the official statistics of new russia alone--that is to say, the provinces of ekaterinoslaf, tauride, kherson, and bessarabia--enumerate the following nationalities: great russians, little russians, poles, servians, montenegrins, bulgarians, moldavians, germans, english, swedes, swiss, french, italians, greeks, armenians, tartars, mordwa, jews, and gypsies. the religions are almost equally numerous. the statistics speak of greek orthodox, roman catholics, gregorians, lutherans, calvinists, anglicans, mennonites, separatists, pietists, karaim jews, talmudists, mahometans, and numerous russian sects, such as the molokanye and the skoptsi or eunuchs. america herself could scarcely show a more motley list in her statistics of population. it is but fair to state that the above list, though literally correct, does not give a true idea of the actual population. the great body of the inhabitants are russian and orthodox, whilst several of the nationalities named are represented by a small number of souls--some of them, such as the french, being found exclusively in the towns. still, the variety even in the rural population is very great. once, in the space of three days, and using only the most primitive means of conveyance, i visited colonies of greeks, germans, servians, bulgarians, montenegrins, and jews. of all the foreign colonists the germans are by far the most numerous. the object of the government in inviting them to settle in the country was that they should till the unoccupied land and thereby increase the national wealth, and that they should at the same time exercise a civilising influence on the russian peasantry in their vicinity. in this latter respect they have totally failed to fulfil their mission. a russian village, situated in the midst of german colonies, shows generally, so far as i could observe, no signs of german influence. each nationality lives more majorum, and holds as little communication as possible with the other. the muzhik observes carefully--for he is very curious--the mode of life of his more advanced neighbours, but he never thinks of adopting it. he looks upon germans almost as beings of a different world--as a wonderfully cunning and ingenious people, who have been endowed by providence with peculiar qualities not possessed by ordinary orthodox humanity. to him it seems in the nature of things that germans should live in large, clean, well-built houses, in the same way as it is in the nature of things that birds should build nests; and as it has probably never occurred to a human being to build a nest for himself and his family, so it never occurs to a russian peasant to build a house on the german model. germans are germans, and russians are russians--and there is nothing more to be said on the subject. this stubbornly conservative spirit of the peasantry who live in the neighbourhood of germans seems to give the lie direct to the oft-repeated and universally believed assertion that russians are an imitative people strongly disposed to adopt the manners and customs of any foreigners with whom they may come in contact. the russian, it is said, changes his nationality as easily as he changes his coat, and derives great satisfaction from wearing some nationality that does not belong to him; but here we have an important fact which appears to prove the contrary. the truth is that in this matter we must distinguish between the noblesse and the peasantry. the nobles are singularly prone to adopt foreign manners, customs, and institutions; the peasants, on the contrary, are as a rule decidedly conservative. it must not, however, be supposed that this proceeds from a difference of race; the difference is to be explained by the past history of the two classes. like all other peoples, the russians are strongly conservative so long as they remain in what may be termed their primitive moral habitat--that is to say, so long as external circumstances do not force them out of their accustomed traditional groove. the noblesse were long ago violently forced out of their old groove by the reforming tsars, and since that time they have been so constantly driven hither and thither by foreign influences that they have never been able to form a new one. thus they easily enter upon any new path which seems to them profitable or attractive. the great mass of the people, on the contrary, too heavy to be thus lifted out of the guiding influence of custom and tradition, are still animated with a strongly conservative spirit. in confirmation of this view i may mention two facts which have often attracted my attention. the first is that the molokanye--a primitive evangelical sect of which i shall speak at length in the next chapter--succumb gradually to german influence; by becoming heretics in religion they free themselves from one of the strongest bonds attaching them to the past, and soon become heretics in things secular. the second fact is that even the orthodox peasant, when placed by circumstances in some new sphere of activity, readily adopts whatever seems profitable. take, for example, the peasants who abandon agriculture and embark in industrial enterprises; finding themselves, as it were, in a new world, in which their old traditional notions are totally inapplicable, they have no hesitation in adopting foreign ideas and foreign inventions. and when once they have chosen this new path, they are much more "go-ahead" than the germans. freed alike from the trammels of hereditary conceptions and from the prudence which experience generates, they often give a loose rein to their impulsive character, and enter freely on the wildest speculations. the marked contrast presented by a german colony and a russian village in close proximity with each other is often used to illustrate the superiority of the teutonic over the slavonic race, and in order to make the contrast more striking, the mennonite colonies are generally taken as the representatives of the germans. without entering here on the general question, i must say that this method of argumentation is scarcely fair. the mennonites, who formerly lived in the neighbourhood of danzig and emigrated from prussia in order to escape the military conscription, brought with them to their new home a large store of useful technical knowledge and a considerable amount of capital, and they received a quantity of land very much greater than the russian peasants possess. besides this, they enjoyed until very recently several valuable privileges. they were entirely exempted from military service and almost entirely exempted from taxation. altogether their lines fell in very pleasant places. in material and moral well-being they stand as far above the majority of the ordinary german colonists as these latter do above their russian neighbours. even in the richest districts of germany their prosperity would attract attention. to compare these rich, privileged, well-educated farmers with the poor, heavily taxed, uneducated peasantry, and to draw from the comparison conclusions concerning the capabilities of the two races, is a proceeding so absurd that it requires no further comment. to the wearied traveller who has been living for some time in russian villages, one of these mennonite colonies seems an earthly paradise. in a little hollow, perhaps by the side of a watercourse, he suddenly comes on a long row of high-roofed houses half concealed in trees. the trees may be found on closer inspection to be little better than mere saplings; but after a long journey on the bare steppe, where there is neither tree nor bush of any kind, the foliage, scant as it is, appears singularly inviting. the houses are large, well arranged, and kept in such thoroughly good repair that they always appear to be newly built. the rooms are plainly furnished, without any pretensions to elegance, but scrupulously clean. adjoining the house are the stable and byre, which would not disgrace a model farm in germany or england. in front is a spacious courtyard, which has the appearance of being swept several times a day, and behind there is a garden well stocked with vegetables. fruit trees and flowers are not very plentiful, for the climate is not favourable to them. the inhabitants are honest, frugal folk, somewhat sluggish of intellect and indifferent to things lying beyond the narrow limits of their own little world, but shrewd enough in all matters which they deem worthy of their attention. if you arrive amongst them as a stranger you may be a little chilled by the welcome you receive, for they are exclusive, reserved, and distrustful, and do not much like to associate with those who do not belong to their own sect; but if you can converse with them in their mother tongue and talk about religious matters in an evangelical tone, you may easily overcome their stiffness and exclusiveness. altogether such a village cannot be recommended for a lengthened sojourn, for the severe order and symmetry which everywhere prevail would soon prove irksome to any one having no dutch blood in his veins;* but as a temporary resting-place during a pilgrimage on the steppe, when the pilgrim is longing for a little cleanliness and comfort, it is very agreeable. * the mennonites were originally dutchmen. persecuted for their religious views in the sixteenth century, a large number of them accepted an invitation to settle in west prussia, where they helped to drain the great marshes between danzig, elbing, and marienburg. here in the course of time they forgot their native language. their emigration to russia began in . the fact that these mennonites and some other german colonies have succeeded in rearing a few sickly trees has suggested to some fertile minds the idea that the prevailing dryness of the climate, which is the chief difficulty with which the agriculturist of that region has to contend, might be to some extent counteracted by arboriculture on a large scale. this scheme, though it has been seriously entertained by one of his majesty's ministers, must seem hardly practicable to any one who knows how much labour and money the colonists have expended in creating that agreeable shade which they love to enjoy in their leisure hours. if climate is affected at all by the existence or non-existence of forests--a point on which scientific men do not seem to be entirely agreed--any palpable increase of the rainfall can be produced only by forests of enormous extent, and it is hardly conceivable that these could be artificially produced in southern russia. it is quite possible, however, that local ameliorations may be effected. during a visit to the province of voronezh in i found that comparatively small plantations diminished the effects of drought in their immediate vicinity by retaining the moisture for a time in the soil and the surrounding atmosphere. after the mennonites and other germans, the bulgarian colonists deserve a passing notice. they settled in this region much more recently, on the land that was left vacant by the exodus of the nogai tartars after the crimean war. if i may judge of their condition by a mere flying visit, i should say that in agriculture and domestic civilisation they are not very far behind the majority of german colonists. their houses are indeed small--so small that one of them might almost be put into a single room of a mennonite's house; but there is an air of cleanliness and comfort about them that would do credit to a german housewife. in spite of all this, these bulgarians were, i could easily perceive, by no means delighted with their new home. the cause of their discontent, so far as i could gather from the few laconic remarks which i extracted from them, seemed to be this: trusting to the highly coloured descriptions furnished by the emigration agents who had induced them to change the rule of the sultan for the authority of the tsar, they came to russia with the expectation of finding a fertile and beautiful promised land. instead of a land flowing with milk and honey, they received a tract of bare steppe on which even water could be obtained only with great difficulty--with no shade to protect them from the heat of summer and nothing to shelter them from the keen northern blasts that often sweep over those open plains. as no adequate arrangements had been made for their reception, they were quartered during the first winter on the german colonists, who, being quite innocent of any slavophil sympathies, were probably not very hospitable to their uninvited guests. to complete their disappointment, they found that they could not cultivate the vine, and that their mild, fragrant tobacco, which is for them a necessary of life, could be obtained only at a very high price. so disconsolate were they under this cruel disenchantment that, at the time of my visit, they talked of returning to their old homes in turkey. as an example of the less prosperous colonists, i may mention the tartar-speaking greeks in the neighbourhood of mariupol, on the northern shore of the sea of azof. their ancestors lived in the crimea, under the rule of the tartar khans, and emigrated to russia in the time of catherine ii., before crim tartary was annexed to the russian empire. they have almost entirely forgotten their old language, but have preserved their old faith. in adopting the tartar language they have adopted something of tartar indolence and apathy, and the natural consequence is that they are poor and ignorant. but of all the colonists of this region the least prosperous are the jews. the chosen people are certainly a most intelligent, industrious, frugal race, and in all matters of buying, selling, and bartering they are unrivalled among the nations of the earth, but they have been too long accustomed to town life to be good tillers of the soil. these jewish colonies were founded as an experiment to see whether the israelite could be weaned from his traditionary pursuits and transferred to what some economists call the productive section of society. the experiment has failed, and the cause of the failure is not difficult to find. one has merely to look at these men of gaunt visage and shambling gait, with their loop-holed slippers, and black, threadbare coats reaching down to their ankles, to understand that they are not in their proper sphere. their houses are in a most dilapidated condition, and their villages remind one of the abomination of desolation spoken of by daniel the prophet. a great part of their land is left uncultivated or let to colonists of a different race. what little revenue they have is derived chiefly from trade of a more or less clandestine nature.* * mr. arnold white, who subsequently visited some of these jewish colonies in connection with baron hirsch's colonisation scheme, assured me that he found them in a much more prosperous condition. as scandinavia was formerly called officina gentium--a workshop in which new nations were made--so we may regard southern russia as a workshop in which fragments of old nations are being melted down to form a new, composite whole. it must be confessed, however, that the melting process has as yet scarcely begun. national peculiarities are not obliterated so rapidly in russia as in america or in british colonies. among the german colonists in russia the process of assimilation is hardly perceptible. though their fathers and grandfathers may have been born in the new country, they would consider it an insult to be called russians. they look down upon the russian peasantry as poor, ignorant, lazy, and dishonest, fear the officials on account of their tyranny and extortion, preserve jealously their own language and customs, rarely speak russian well--sometimes not at all--and never intermarry with those from whom they are separated by nationality and religion. the russian influence acts, however, more rapidly on the slavonic colonists--servians, bulgarians, montenegrins--who profess the greek orthodox faith, learn more easily the russian language, which is closely allied to their own, have no consciousness of belonging to a culturvolk, and in general possess a nature much more pliable than the teutonic. the government has recently attempted to accelerate the fusing process by retracting the privileges granted to the colonists and abolishing the peculiar administration under which they were placed. these measures--especially the universal military service--may eventually diminish the extreme exclusiveness of the germans; the youths, whilst serving in the army, will at least learn the russian language, and may possibly imbibe something of the russian spirit. but for the present this new policy has aroused a strong feeling of hostility and greatly intensified the spirit of exclusiveness. in the german colonies i have often overheard complaints about russian tyranny and uncomplimentary remarks about the russian national character. the mennonites consider themselves specially aggrieved by the so-called reforms. they came to russia in order to escape military service and with the distinct understanding that they should be exempted from it, and now they are forced to act contrary to the religious tenets of their sect. this is the ground of complaint which they put forward in the petitions addressed to the government, but they have at the same time another, and perhaps more important, objection to the proposed changes. they feel, as several of them admitted to me, that if the barrier which separates them from the rest of the population were in any way broken down, they could no longer preserve that stern puritanical discipline which at present constitutes their force. hence, though the government was disposed to make important concessions, hundreds of families sold their property and emigrated to america. the movement, however, did not become general. at present the russian mennonites number, male and female, about , , divided into colonies and possessing over , acres of land. it is quite possible that under the new system of administration the colonists who profess in common with the russians the greek orthodox faith may be rapidly russianised; but i am convinced that the others will long resist assimilation. greek orthodoxy and protestant sectarianism are so radically different in spirit that their respective votaries are not likely to intermarry; and without intermarriage it is impossible that the two nationalities should blend. as an instance of the ethnological curiosities which the traveller may stumble upon unawares in this curious region, i may mention a strange acquaintance i made when travelling on the great plain which stretches from the sea of azof to the caspian. one day i accidentally noticed on my travelling-map the name "shotlandskaya koldniya" (scottish colony) near the celebrated baths of piatigorsk. i was at that moment in stavropol, a town about eighty miles to the north, and could not gain any satisfactory information as to what this colony was. some well-informed people assured me that it really was what its name implied, whilst others asserted as confidently that it was simply a small german settlement. to decide the matter i determined to visit the place myself, though it did not lie near my intended route, and i accordingly found myself one morning in the village in question. the first inhabitants whom i encountered were unmistakably german, and they professed to know nothing about the existence of scotsmen in the locality either at the present or in former times. this was disappointing, and i was about to turn away and drive off, when a young man, who proved to be the schoolmaster, came up, and on hearing what i desired, advised me to consult an old circassian who lived at the end of the village and was well acquainted with local antiquities. on proceeding to the house indicated, i found a venerable old man, with fine, regular features of the circassian type, coal-black sparkling eyes, and a long grey beard that would have done honour to a patriarch. to him i explained briefly, in russian, the object of my visit, and asked whether he knew of any scotsmen in the district. "and why do you wish to know?" he replied, in the same language, fixing me with his keen, sparkling eyes. "because i am myself a scotsman, and hoped to find fellow-countrymen here." let the reader imagine my astonishment when, in reply to this, he answered, in genuine broad scotch, "od, man, i'm a scotsman tae! my name is john abercrombie. did ye never hear tell o' john abercrombie, the famous edinburgh doctor?" i was fairly puzzled by this extraordinary declaration. dr. abercrombie's name was familiar to me as that of a medical practitioner and writer on psychology, but i knew that he was long since dead. when i had recovered a little from my surprise, i ventured to remark to the enigmatical personage before me that, though his tongue was certainly scotch, his face was as certainly circassian. "weel, weel," he replied, evidently enjoying my look of mystification, "you're no' far wrang. i'm a circassian scotsman!" this extraordinary admission did not diminish my perplexity, so i begged my new acquaintance to be a little more explicit, and he at once complied with my request. his long story may be told in a few words: in the first years of the present century a band of scotch missionaries came to russia for the purpose of converting the circassian tribes, and received from the emperor alexander i. a large grant of land in this place, which was then on the frontier of the empire. here they founded a mission, and began the work; but they soon discovered that the surrounding population were not idolaters, but mussulmans, and consequently impervious to christianity. in this difficulty they fell on the happy idea of buying circassian children from their parents and bringing them up as christians. one of these children, purchased about the year , was a little boy called teoona. as he had been purchased with money subscribed by dr. abercrombie, he had received in baptism that gentleman's name, and he considered himself the foster-son of his benefactor. here was the explanation of the mystery. teoona, alias mr. abercrombie, was a man of more than average intelligence. besides his native tongue, he spoke english, german, and russian perfectly; and he assured me that he knew several other languages equally well. his life had been devoted to missionary work, and especially to translating and printing the scriptures. he had laboured first in astrakhan, then for four years and a half in persia--in the service of the bale mission--and afterwards for six years in siberia. the scottish mission was suppressed by the emperor nicholas about the year , and all the missionaries except two returned home. the son of one of these two (galloway) was the only genuine scotsman remaining at the time of my visit. of the "circassian scotsmen" there were several, most of whom had married germans. the other inhabitants were german colonists from the province of saratof, and german was the language commonly spoken in the village. after hearing so much about foreign colonists, tartar invaders, and finnish aborigines, the reader may naturally desire to know the numerical strength of this foreign element. unfortunately we have no accurate data on this subject, but from a careful examination of the available statistics i am inclined to conclude that it constitutes about one-sixth of the population of european russia, including poland, finland, and the caucasus, and nearly a third of the population of the empire as a whole. chapter xvii among the heretics the molokanye--my method of investigation--alexandrof-hai--an unexpected theological discussion--doctrines and ecclesiastical organisation of the molokanye--moral supervision and mutual assistance--history of the sect--a false prophet--utilitarian christianity--classification of the fantastic sects--the "khlysti"--policy of the government towards sectarianism--two kinds of heresy--probable future of the heretical sects--political disaffection. whilst travelling on the steppe i heard a great deal about a peculiar religious sect called the molokanye, and i felt interested in them because their religious belief, whatever it was, seemed to have a beneficial influence on their material welfare. of the same race and placed in the same conditions as the orthodox peasantry around them, they were undoubtedly better housed, better clad, more punctual in the payment of their taxes, and, in a word, more prosperous. all my informants agreed in describing them as quiet, decent, sober people; but regarding their religious doctrines the evidence was vague and contradictory. some described them as protestants or lutherans, whilst others believed them to be the last remnants of a curious heretical sect which existed in the early christian church. desirous of obtaining clear notions on the subject, i determined to investigate the matter for myself. at first i found this to be no easy task. in the villages through which i passed i found numerous members of the sect, but they all showed a decided repugnance to speak about their religious beliefs. long accustomed to extortion and persecution at the hands of the administration, and suspecting me to be a secret agent of the government, they carefully avoided speaking on any subject beyond the state of the weather and the prospects of the harvest, and replied to my questions on other topics as if they had been standing before a grand inquisitor. a few unsuccessful attempts convinced me that it would be impossible to extract from them their religious beliefs by direct questioning. i adopted, therefore, a different system of tactics. from meagre replies already received i had discovered that their doctrine had at least a superficial resemblance to presbyterianism, and from former experience i was aware that the curiosity of intelligent russian peasants is easily excited by descriptions of foreign countries. on these two facts i based my plan of campaign. when i found a molokan, or some one whom i suspected to be such, i talked for some time about the weather and the crops, as if i had no ulterior object in view. having fully discussed this matter, i led the conversation gradually from the weather and crops in russia to the weather and crops in scotland, and then passed slowly from scotch agriculture to the scotch presbyterian church. on nearly every occasion this policy succeeded. when the peasant heard that there was a country where the people interpreted the scriptures for themselves, had no bishops, and considered the veneration of icons as idolatry, he invariably listened with profound attention; and when he learned further that in that wonderful country the parishes annually sent deputies to an assembly in which all matters pertaining to the church were freely and publicly discussed, he almost always gave free expression to his astonishment, and i had to answer a whole volley of questions. "where is that country?" "is it to the east, or the west?" "is it very far away?" "if our presbyter could only hear all that!" this last expression was precisely what i wanted, because it gave me an opportunity of making the acquaintance of the presbyter, or pastor, without seeming to desire it; and i knew that a conversation with that personage, who is always an uneducated peasant like the others, but is generally more intelligent and better acquainted with religious doctrine, would certainly be of use to me. on more than one occasion i spent a great part of the night with a presbyter, and thereby learned much concerning the religious beliefs and practices of the sect. after these interviews i was sure to be treated with confidence and respect by all the molokanye in the village, and recommended to the brethren of the faith in the neighbouring villages through which i intended to pass. several of the more intelligent peasants with whom i spoke advised me strongly to visit alexandrof-hai, a village situated on the borders of the kirghiz steppe. "we are dark [i.e., ignorant] people here," they were wont to say, "and do not know anything, but in alexandrof-hai you will find those who know the faith, and they will discuss with you." this prediction was fulfilled in a somewhat unexpected way. when returning some weeks later from a visit to the kirghiz of the inner horde, i arrived one evening at this centre of the molokan faith, and was hospitably received by one of the brotherhood. in conversing casually with my host on religious subjects i expressed to him a desire to find some one well read in holy writ and well grounded in the faith, and he promised to do what he could for me in this respect. next morning he kept his promise with a vengeance. immediately after the tea-urn had been removed the door of the room was opened and twelve peasants were ushered in! after the customary salutations with these unexpected visitors, my host informed me to my astonishment that his friends had come to have a talk with me about the faith; and without further ceremony he placed before me a folio bible in the old slavonic tongue, in order that i might read passages in support of my arguments. as i was not at all prepared to open a formal theological discussion, i felt not a little embarrassed, and i could see that my travelling companions, two russian friends who cared for none of these things, were thoroughly enjoying my discomfiture. there was, however, no possibility of drawing back. i had asked for an opportunity of having a talk with some of the brethren, and now i had got it in a way that i certainly did not expect. my friends withdrew--"leaving me to my fate," as they whispered to me--and the "talk" began. my fate was by no means so terrible as had been anticipated, but at first the situation was a little awkward. neither party had any clear ideas as to what the other desired, and my visitors expected that i was to begin the proceedings. this expectation was quite natural and justifiable, for i had inadvertently invited them to meet me, but i could not make a speech to them, for the best of all reasons--that i did not know what to say. if i told them my real aims, their suspicions would probably be aroused. my usual stratagem of the weather and the crops was wholly inapplicable. for a moment i thought of proposing that a psalm should be sung as a means of breaking the ice, but i felt that this would give to the meeting a solemnity which i wished to avoid. on the whole it seemed best to begin at once a formal discussion. i told them, therefore, that i had spoken with many of their brethren in various villages, and that i had found what i considered grave errors of doctrine. i could not, for instance, agree with them in their belief that it was unlawful to eat pork. this was perhaps an abrupt way of entering on the subject, but it furnished at least a locus standi--something to talk about--and an animated discussion immediately ensued. my opponents first endeavoured to prove their thesis from the new testament, and when this argument broke down they had recourse to the pentateuch. from a particular article of the ceremonial law we passed to the broader question as to how far the ceremonial law is still binding, and from this to other points equally important. if the logic of the peasants was not always unimpeachable, their knowledge of the scriptures left nothing to be desired. in support of their views they quoted long passages from memory, and whenever i indicated vaguely any text which i needed, they at once supplied it verbatim, so that the big folio bible served merely as an ornament. three or four of them seemed to know the whole of the new testament by heart. the course of our informal debate need not here be described; suffice it to say that, after four hours of uninterrupted conversation, we agreed to differ on questions of detail, and parted from each other without a trace of that ill-feeling which religious discussion commonly engenders. never have i met men more honest and courteous in debate, more earnest in the search after truth, more careless of dialectical triumphs, than these simple, uneducated muzhiks. if at one or two points in the discussion a little undue warmth was displayed, i must do my opponents the justice to say that they were not the offending party. this long discussion, as well as numerous discussions which i had had before and since have had with molokanye in various parts of the country, confirmed my first impression that their doctrines have a strong resemblance to presbyterianism. there is, however, an important difference. presbyterianism has an ecclesiastical organisation and a written creed, and its doctrines have long since become clearly defined by means of public discussion, polemical literature, and general assemblies. the molokanye, on the contrary, have had no means of developing their fundamental principles and forming their vague religious beliefs into a clearly defined logical system. their theology is therefore still in a half-fluid state, so that it is impossible to predict what form it will ultimately assume. "we have not yet thought about that," i have frequently been told when i inquired about some abstruse doctrine; "we must talk about it at the meeting next sunday. what is your opinion?" besides this, their fundamental principles allow great latitude for individual and local differences of opinion. they hold that holy writ is the only rule of faith and conduct, but that it must be taken in the spiritual, and not in the literal, sense. as there is no terrestrial authority to which doubtful points can be referred, each individual is free to adopt the interpretation which commends itself to his own judgment. this will no doubt ultimately lead to a variety of sects, and already there is a considerable diversity of opinion between different communities; but this diversity has not yet been recognised, and i may say that i nowhere found that fanatically dogmatic, quibbling spirit which is usually the soul of sectarianism. for their ecclesiastical organisation the molokanye take as their model the early apostolic church, as depicted in the new testament, and uncompromisingly reject all later authorities. in accordance with this model they have no hierarchy and no paid clergy, but choose from among themselves a presbyter and two assistants--men well known among the brethren for their exemplary life and their knowledge of the scriptures--whose duty it is to watch over the religious and moral welfare of the flock. on sundays they hold meetings in private houses--they are not allowed to build churches--and spend two or three hours in psalm singing, prayer, reading the scriptures, and friendly conversation on religious subjects. if any one has a doctrinal difficulty which he desires to have cleared up, he states it to the congregation, and some of the others give their opinions, with the texts on which the opinions are founded. if the question seems clearly solved by the texts, it is decided; if not, it is left open. as in many young sects, there exists among the molokanye a system of severe moral supervision. if a member has been guilty of drunkenness or any act unbecoming a christian, he is first admonished by the presbyter in private or before the congregation; and if this does not produce the desired effect, he is excluded for a longer or shorter period from the meetings and from all intercourse with the members. in extreme cases expulsion is resorted to. on the other hand, if any one of the members happens to be, from no fault of his own, in pecuniary difficulties, the others will assist him. this system of mutual control and mutual assistance has no doubt something to do with the fact that the molokanye are distinguished from the surrounding population by their sobriety, uprightness, and material prosperity. of the history of the sect my friends in alexandrof-hai could tell me very little, but i have obtained from other quarters some interesting information. the founder was a peasant of the province of tambof called uklein, who lived in the reign of catherine ii., and gained his living as an itinerant tailor. for some time he belonged to the sect of the dukhobortsi--who are sometimes called the russian quakers, and who have recently become known in western europe through the efforts of count tolstoy on their behalf--but he soon seceded from them, because he could not admit their doctrine that god dwells in the human soul, and that consequently the chief source of religious truth is internal enlightenment. to him it seemed that religious truth was to be found only in the scriptures. with this doctrine he soon made many converts, and one day he unexpectedly entered the town of tambof, surrounded by seventy "apostles" chanting psalms. they were all quickly arrested and imprisoned, and when the affair was reported to st. petersburg the empress catherine ordered that they should be handed over to the ecclesiastical authorities, and that in the event of their proving obdurate to exhortation they should be tried by the criminal courts. uklein professed to recant, and was liberated; but he continued his teaching secretly in the villages, and at the time of his death he was believed to have no less than five thousand followers. as to the actual strength of the sect it is difficult to form even a conjecture. certainly it has many thousand members--probably several hundred thousand. formerly the government transported them from the central provinces to the thinly populated outlying districts, where they had less opportunity of contaminating orthodox neighbours; and accordingly we find them in the southeastern districts of samara, on the north coast of the sea of azof, in the crimea, in the caucasus, and in siberia. there are still, however, very many of them in the central region, especially in the province of tambof. the readiness with which the molokanye modify their opinions and beliefs in accordance with what seems to them new light saves them effectually from bigotry and fanaticism, but it at the same time exposes them to evils of a different kind, from which they might be preserved by a few stubborn prejudices. "false prophets arise among us," said an old, sober-minded member to me on one occasion, "and lead many away from the faith." in , for example, great excitement was produced among them by rumours that the second advent of christ was at hand, and that the son of man, coming to judge the world, was about to appear in the new jerusalem, somewhere near mount ararat. as elijah and enoch were to appear before the opening of the millennium, they were anxiously awaited by the faithful, and at last elijah appeared, in the person of a melitopol peasant called belozvorof, who announced that on a given day he would ascend into heaven. on the day appointed a great crowd collected, but he failed to keep his promise, and was handed over to the police as an impostor by the molokanye themselves. unfortunately they were not always so sensible as on that occasion. in the very next year many of them were persuaded by a certain lukian petrof to put on their best garments and start for the promised land in the caucasus, where the millennium was about to begin. of these false prophets the most remarkable in recent times was a man who called himself ivan grigorief, a mysterious personage who had at one time a turkish and at another an american passport, but who seemed in all other respects a genuine russian. some years previously to my visit he appeared at alexandrof-hai. though he professed himself to be a good molokan and was received as such, he enounced at the weekly meetings many new and startling ideas. at first he simply urged his hearers to live like the early christians, and have all things in common. this seemed sound doctrine to the molokanye, who profess to take the early christians as their model, and some of them thought of at once abolishing personal property; but when the teacher intimated pretty plainly that this communism should include free love, a decided opposition arose, and it was objected that the early church did not recommend wholesale adultery and cognate sins. this was a formidable objection, but "the prophet" was equal to the occasion. he reminded his friends that in accordance with their own doctrine the scriptures should be understood, not in the literal, but in the spiritual, sense--that christianity had made men free, and every true christian ought to use his freedom. this account of the new doctrine was given to me by an intelligent molokan, who had formerly been a peasant and was now a trader, as i sat one evening in his house in novo-usensk, the chief town of the district in which alexandrof-hai is situated. it seemed to me that the author of this ingenious attempt to conciliate christianity with extreme utilitarianism must be an educated man in disguise. this conviction i communicated to my host, but he did not agree with me. "no, i think not," he replied; "in fact, i am sure he is a peasant, and i strongly suspect he was at some time a soldier. he has not much learning, but he has a wonderful gift of talking; never have i heard any one speak like him. he would have talked over the whole village, had it not been for an old man who was more than a match for him. and then he went to orloff-hai and there he did talk the people over." what he really did in this latter place i never could clearly ascertain. report said that he founded a communistic association, of which he was himself president and treasurer, and converted the members to an extraordinary theory of prophetic succession, invented apparently for his own sensual gratification. for further information my host advised me to apply either to the prophet himself, who was at that time confined in the gaol on a charge of using a forged passport, or to one of his friends, a certain mr. i----, who lived in the town. as it was a difficult matter to gain admittance to the prisoner, and i had little time at my disposal, i adopted the latter alternative. mr. i---- was himself a somewhat curious character. he had been a student in moscow, and in consequence of some youthful indiscretions during the university disturbances had been exiled to this place. after waiting in vain some years for a release, he gave up the idea of entering one of the learned professions, married a peasant girl, rented a piece of land, bought a pair of camels, and settled down as a small farmer.* he had a great deal to tell about the prophet. * here for the first time i saw camels used for agricultural purposes. when yoked to a small four-wheeled cart, the "ships of the desert" seemed decidedly out of place. grigorief, it seemed, was really simply a russian peasant, but he had been from his youth upwards one of those restless people who can never long work in harness. where his native place was, and why he left it, he never divulged, for reasons best known to himself. he had travelled much, and had been an attentive observer. whether he had ever been in america was doubtful, but he had certainly been in turkey, and had fraternised with various russian sectarians, who are to be found in considerable numbers near the danube. here, probably, he acquired many of his peculiar religious ideas, and conceived his grand scheme of founding a new religion--of rivalling the founder of christianity! he aimed at nothing less than this, as he on one occasion confessed, and he did not see why he should not be successful. he believed that the founder of christianity had been simply a man like himself, who understood better than others the people around him and the circumstances of the time, and he was convinced that he himself had these qualifications. one qualification, however, for becoming a prophet he certainly did not possess: he had no genuine religious enthusiasm in him--nothing of the martyr spirit about him. much of his own preaching he did not himself believe, and he had a secret contempt for those who naively accepted it all. not only was he cunning, but he knew he was cunning, and he was conscious that he was playing an assumed part. and yet perhaps it would be unjust to say that he was merely an impostor exclusively occupied with his own personal advantage. though he was naturally a man of sensual tastes, and could not resist convenient opportunities of gratifying them, he seemed to believe that his communistic schemes would, if realised, be beneficial not only to himself, but also to the people. altogether a curious mixture of the prophet, the social reformer, and the cunning impostor! besides the molokanye, there are in russia many other heretical sects. some of them are simply evangelical protestants, like the stundisti, who have adopted the religious conceptions of their neighbours, the german colonists; whilst others are composed of wild enthusiasts, who give a loose rein to their excited imagination, and revel in what the germans aptly term "der hohere blodsinn." i cannot here attempt to convey even a general idea of these fantastic sects with their doctrinal and ceremonial absurdities, but i may offer the following classification of them for the benefit of those who may desire to study the subject: . sects which take the scriptures as the basis of their belief, but interpret and complete the doctrines therein contained by means of the occasional inspiration or internal enlightenment of their leading members. . sects which reject interpretation and insist on certain passages of scripture being taken in the literal sense. in one of the best known of these sects--the skoptsi, or eunuchs--fanaticism has led to physical mutilation. . sects which pay little or no attention to scripture, and derive their doctrine from the supposed inspiration of their living teachers. . sects which believe in the re-incarnation of christ. . sects which confound religion with nervous excitement, and are more or less erotic in their character. the excitement necessary for prophesying is commonly produced by dancing, jumping, pirouetting, or self-castigation; and the absurdities spoken at such times are regarded as the direct expression of divine wisdom. the religious exercises resemble more or less closely those of the "dancing dervishes" and "howling dervishes's" with which all who have visited constantinople are familiar. there is, however, one important difference: the dervishes practice their religious exercises in public, and consequently observe a certain decorum, whilst these russian sects assemble in secret, and give free scope to their excitement, so that most disgusting orgies sometimes take place at their meetings. to illustrate the general character of the sects belonging to this last category, i may quote here a short extract from a description of the "khlysti" by one who was initiated into their mysteries: "among them men and women alike take upon themselves the calling of teachers and prophets, and in this character they lead a strict, ascetic life, refrain from the most ordinary and innocent pleasures, exhaust themselves by long fasting and wild, ecstatic religious exercises, and abhor marriage. under the excitement caused by their supposed holiness and inspiration, they call themselves not only teachers and prophets, but also 'saviours,' 'redeemers,' 'christs,' 'mothers of god.' generally speaking, they call themselves simply gods, and pray to each other as to real gods and living christs or madonnas. when several of these teachers come together at a meeting, they dispute with each other in a vain boasting way as to which of them possesses most grace and power. in this rivalry they sometimes give each other lusty blows on the ear, and he who bears the blows most patiently, turning the other cheek to the smiter, acquires the reputation of having most holiness." another sect belonging to this category is the jumpers, among whom the erotic element is disagreeably prominent. here is a description of their religious meetings, which are held during summer in the forest, and during winter in some out-house or barn: "after due preparation prayers are read by the chief teacher, dressed in a white robe and standing in the midst of the congregation. at first he reads in an ordinary tone of voice, and then passes gradually into a merry chant. when he remarks that the chanting has sufficiently acted on the hearers, he begins to jump. the hearers, singing likewise, follow his example. their ever-increasing excitement finds expression in the highest possible jumps. this they continue as long as they can--men and women alike yelling like enraged savages. when all are thoroughly exhausted, the leader declares that he hears the angels singing"--and then begins a scene which cannot be here described. it is but fair to add that we know very little of these peculiar sects, and what we do know is furnished by avowed enemies. it is very possible, therefore, that some of them are not nearly so absurd as they are commonly represented, and that many of the stories told are mere calumnies. the government is very hostile to sectarianism, and occasionally endeavours to suppress it. this is natural enough as regards these fantastic sects, but it seems strange that the peaceful, industrious, honest molokanye and stundisti should be put under the ban. why is it that a russian peasant should be punished for holding doctrines which are openly professed, with the sanction of the authorities, by his neighbours, the german colonists? to understand this the reader must know that according to russian conceptions there are two distinct kinds of heresy, distinguished from each other, not by the doctrines held, but by the nationality of the holder, it seems to a russian in the nature of things that tartars should be mahometans, that poles should be roman catholics, and that germans should be protestants; and the mere act of becoming a russian subject is not supposed to lay the tartar, the pole, or the german under any obligation to change his faith. these nationalities are therefore allowed the most perfect freedom in the exercise of their respective religions, so long as they refrain from disturbing by propagandism the divinely established order of things. this is the received theory, and we must do the russians the justice to say that they habitually act up to it. if the government has sometimes attempted to convert alien races, the motive has always been political, and the efforts have never awakened much sympathy among the people at large, or even among the clergy. in like manner the missionary societies which have sometimes been formed in imitation of the western nations have never received much popular support. thus with regard to aliens this peculiar theory has led to very extensive religious toleration. with regard to the russians themselves the theory has had a very different effect. if in the nature of things the tartar is a mahometan, the pole a roman catholic, and the german a protestant, it is equally in the nature of things that the russian should be a member of the orthodox church. on this point the written law and public opinion are in perfect accord. if an orthodox russian becomes a roman catholic or a protestant, he is amenable to the criminal law, and is at the same time condemned by public opinion as an apostate and renegade--almost as a traitor. as to the future of these heretical sects it is impossible to speak with confidence. the more gross and fantastic will probably disappear as primary education spreads among the people; but the protestant sects seem to possess much more vitality. for the present, at least, they are rapidly spreading. i have seen large villages where, according to the testimony of the inhabitants, there was not a single heretic fifteen years before, and where one-half of the population had already become molokanye; and this change, be it remarked, had taken place without any propagandist organisation. the civil and ecclesiastical authorities were well aware of the existence of the movement, but they were powerless to prevent it. the few efforts which they made were without effect, or worse than useless. among the stundisti corporal punishment was tried as an antidote--without the concurrence, it is to be hoped, of the central authorities--and to the molokanye of the province of samara a learned monk was sent in the hope of converting them from their errors by reason and eloquence. what effect the birch-twigs had on the religious convictions of the stundisti i have not been able to ascertain, but i assume that they were not very efficacious, for according to the latest accounts the numbers of the sect are increasing. of the mission in the province of samara i happen to know more, and can state on the evidence of many peasants--some of them orthodox--that the only immediate effect was to stir up religious fanaticism, and to induce a certain number of orthodox to go over to the heretical camp. in their public discussions the disputants could find no common ground on which to argue, for the simple reason that their fundamental conceptions were different. the monk spoke of the church as the terrestrial representative of christ and the sole possessor of truth, whilst his opponents knew nothing of a church in this sense, and held simply that all men should live in accordance with the dictates of scripture. once the monk consented to argue with them on their own ground, and on that occasion he sustained a signal defeat, for he could not produce a single passage recommending the veneration of icons--a practice which the russian peasants consider an essential part of orthodoxy. after this he always insisted on the authority of the early ecumenical councils and the fathers of the church--an authority which his antagonists did not recognise. altogether the mission was a complete failure, and all parties regretted that it had been undertaken. "it was a great mistake," remarked to me confidentially an orthodox peasant; "a very great mistake. the molokanye are a cunning people. the monk was no match for them; they knew the scriptures a great deal better than he did. the church should not condescend to discuss with heretics." it is often said that these heretical sects are politically disaffected, and the molokanye are thought to be specially dangerous in this respect. perhaps there is a certain foundation for this opinion, for men are naturally disposed to doubt the legitimacy of a power that systematically persecutes them. with regard to the molokanye, i believe the accusation to be a groundless calumny. political ideas seemed entirely foreign to their modes of thought. during my intercourse with them i often heard them refer to the police as "wolves which have to be fed," but i never heard them speak of the emperor otherwise than in terms of filial affection and veneration. chapter xviii the dissenters dissenters not to be confounded with heretics--extreme importance attached to ritual observances--the raskol, or great schism in the seventeenth century--antichrist appears!--policy of peter the great and catherine ii.--present ingenious method of securing religious toleration--internal development of the raskol--schism among the schismatics--the old ritualists--the priestless people--cooling of the fanatical enthusiasm and formation of new sects--recent policy of the government towards the sectarians--numerical force and political significance of sectarianism. we must be careful not to confound those heretical sects, protestant and fantastical, of which i have spoken in the preceding chapter, with the more numerous dissenters or schismatics, the descendants of those who seceded from the russian church--or more correctly from whom the russian church seceded--in the seventeenth century. so far from regarding themselves as heretics, these latter consider themselves more orthodox than the official orthodox church. they are conservatives, too, in the social as well as the religious sense of the term. among them are to be found the last remnants of old russian life, untinged by foreign influences. the russian church, as i have already had occasion to remark, has always paid inordinate attention to ceremonial observances and somewhat neglected the doctrinal and moral elements of the faith which it professes. this peculiarity greatly facilitated the spread of its influence among a people accustomed to pagan rites and magical incantations, but it had the pernicious effect of confirming in the new converts their superstitious belief in the virtue of mere ceremonies. thus the russians became zealous christians in all matters of external observance, without knowing much about the spiritual meaning of the rites which they practised. they looked upon the rites and sacraments as mysterious charms which preserved them from evil influences in the present life and secured them eternal felicity in the life to come, and they believed that these charms would inevitably lose their efficacy if modified in the slightest degree. extreme importance was therefore attached to the ritual minutiae, and the slightest modification of these minutiae assumed the importance of an historical event. in the year , for instance, the novgorodian chronicler gravely relates: "this winter some philosophers (!) began to sing, 'o lord, have mercy,' and others merely, 'lord, have mercy.'" and this attaching of enormous importance to trifles was not confined to the ignorant multitude. an archbishop of novgorod declared solemnly that those who repeat the word "alleluia" only twice at certain points in the liturgy "sing to their own damnation," and a celebrated ecclesiastical council, held in , put such matters as the position of the fingers when making the sign of the cross on the same level as heresies--formally anathematising those who acted in such trifles contrary to its decisions. this conservative spirit in religious concerns had a considerable influence on social life. as there was no clear line of demarcation between religious observances and simple traditional customs, the most ordinary act might receive a religious significance, and the slightest departure from a traditional custom might be looked upon as a deadly sin. a russian of the olden time would have resisted the attempt to deprive him of his beard as strenuously as a calvinist of the present day would resist the attempt to make him abjure the doctrine of predestination--and both for the same reason. as the doctrine of predestination is for the calvinist, so the wearing of a beard was for the old russian--an essential of salvation. "where," asked one of the patriarchs of moscow, "will those who shave their chins stand at the last day?--among the righteous adorned with beards, or among the beardless heretics?" the question required no answer. in the seventeenth century this superstitious, conservative spirit reached its climax. the civil wars and foreign invasions, accompanied by pillage, famine, and plagues with which that century opened, produced a wide-spread conviction that the end of all things was at hand. the mysterious number of the beast was found to indicate the year , and timid souls began to discover signs of that falling away from the faith which is spoken of in the apocalypse. the majority of the people did not perhaps share this notion, but they believed that the sufferings with which they had been visited were a divine punishment for having forsaken the ancient customs. and it could not be denied that considerable changes had taken place. orthodox russia was now tainted with the presence of heretics. foreigners who shaved their chins and smoked the accursed weed had been allowed to settle in moscow, and the tsars not only held converse with them, but had even adopted some of their "pagan" practises. besides this, the government had introduced innovations and reforms, many of which were displeasing to the people. in short, the country was polluted with "heresy"--a subtle, evil influence lurking in everything foreign, and very dangerous to the spiritual and temporal welfare of the faithful--something of the nature of an epidemic, but infinitely more dangerous; for disease kills merely the body, whereas "heresy" kills the soul, and causes both soul and body to be cast into hell-fire. had the government introduced the innovations slowly and cautiously, respecting as far as possible all outward forms, it might have effected much without producing a religious panic; but, instead of acting circumspectly as the occasion demanded, it ran full-tilt against the ancient prejudices and superstitious fears, and drove the people into open resistance. when the art of printing was introduced, it became necessary to choose the best texts of the liturgy, psalter, and other religious books, and on examination it was found that, through the ignorance and carelessness of copyists, numerous errors had crept into the manuscripts in use. this discovery led to further investigation, which showed that certain irregularities had likewise crept into the ceremonial. the chief of the clerical errors lay in the orthography of the word "jesus," and the chief irregularity in the ceremonial regarded the position of the fingers when making the sign of the cross. to correct these errors the celebrated nikon, who was patriarch in the time of tsar alexis, father of peter the great, ordered all the old liturgical books and the old icons to be called in, and new ones to be distributed; but the clergy and the people resisted. believing these "nikonian novelties" to be heretical, they clung to their old icons, their old missals and their old religious customs as the sole anchors of safety which could save the faithful from drifting to perdition. in vain the patriarch assured the people that the change was a return to the ancient forms still preserved in greece and constantinople. "the greek church," it was replied, "is no longer free from heresy. orthodoxy has become many-coloured from the violence of the turkish mahomet; and the greeks, under the sons of hagar, have fallen away from the ancient traditions." an anathema, formally pronounced by an ecclesiastical council against these nonconformists, had no more effect than the admonitions of the patriarch. they persevered in their obstinacy, and refused to believe that the blessed saints and holy martyrs who had used the ancient forms had not prayed and crossed themselves aright. "not those holy men of old, but the present patriarch and his counsellors must be heretics." "woe to us! woe to us!" cried the monks of solovetsk when they received the new liturgies. "what have you done with the son of god? give him back to us! you have changed isus [the old russian form of jesus] into iisus! it is fearful not only to commit such a sin, but even to think of it!" and the sturdy monks shut their gates, and defied patriarch, council, and tsar for seven long years, till the monastery was taken by an armed force. the decree of excommunication pronounced by the ecclesiastical council placed the nonconformists beyond the pale of the church, and the civil power undertook the task of persecuting them. persecution had of course merely the effect of confirming the victims in their belief that the church and the tsar had become heretical. thousands fled across the frontier and settled in the neighbouring countries--poland, russia, sweden, austria, turkey, the caucasus, and siberia. others concealed themselves in the northern forests and the densely wooded region near the polish frontier, where they lived by agriculture or fishing, and prayed, crossed themselves and buried their dead according to the customs of their forefathers. the northern forests were their favourite place of refuge. hither flocked many of those who wished to keep themselves pure and undefiled. here the more learned men among the nonconformists--well acquainted with holy writ, with fragmentary translations from the greek fathers, and with the more important decisions of the early ecumenical councils--wrote polemical and edifying works for the confounding of heretics and the confirming of true believers. hence were sent out in all directions zealous missionaries, in the guise of traders, peddlers, and labourers, to sow what they called the living seed, and what the official church termed "satan's tares." when the government agents discovered these retreats, the inmates generally fled from the "ravenous wolves"; but on more than one occasion a large number of fanatical men and women, shutting themselves up, set fire to their houses, and voluntarily perished in the flames. in paleostrofski monastery, for instance, in the year , no less than , fanatics gained the crown of martyrdom in this way; and many similar instances are on record.* as in all periods of religious panic, the apocalypse was carefully studied, and the millennial ideas rapidly spread. the signs of the time were plain: satan was being let loose for a little season. men anxiously looked for the reappearance of antichrist--and antichrist appeared! * a list of well-authenticated cases is given by nilski, "semeinaya zhizn v russkom raskole," st. petersburg, ; part i., pp. - . the number of these self-immolators certainly amounted to many thousands. the man in whom the people recognised the incarnate spirit of evil was no other than peter the great. from the nonconformist point of view, peter had very strong claims to be considered antichrist. he had none of the staid, pious demeanour of the old tsars, and showed no respect for many things which were venerated by the people. he ate, drank, and habitually associated with heretics, spoke their language, wore their costume, chose from among them his most intimate friends, and favoured them more than his own people. imagine the horror and commotion which would be produced among pious catholics if the pope should some day appear in the costume of the grand turk, and should choose pashas as his chief counsellors! the horror which peter's conduct produced among a large section of his subjects was not less great. they could not explain it otherwise than by supposing him to be the devil in disguise, and they saw in all his important measures convincing proofs of his satanic origin. the newly invented census, or "revision," was a profane "numbering of the people," and an attempt to enrol in the service of beëlzebub those whose names were written in the lamb's book of life. the new title of imperator was explained to mean something very diabolical. the passport bearing the imperial arms was the seal of antichrist. the order to shave the beard was an attempt to disfigure "the image of god," after which man had been created, and by which christ would recognise his own at the last day. the change in the calendar, by which new year's day was transferred from september to january, was the destruction of "the years of our lord," and the introduction of the years of satan in their place. of the ingenious arguments by which these theses were supported, i may quote one by way of illustration. the world, it was explained, could not have been created in january as the new calendar seemed to indicate, because apples are not ripe at that season, and consequently eve could not have been tempted in the way described!* * i found this ingenious argument in one of the polemical treatises of the old believers. these ideas regarding peter and his reforms were strongly confirmed by the vigorous persecutions which took place during the earlier years of his reign. the nonconformists were constantly convicted of political disaffection--especially of "insulting the imperial majesty"--and were accordingly flogged, tortured, and beheaded without mercy. but when peter had succeeded in putting down all armed opposition, and found that the movement was no longer dangerous for the throne, he adopted a policy more in accordance with his personal character. whether he had himself any religious belief whatever may be doubted; certainly he had not a spark of religious fanaticism in his nature. exclusively occupied with secular concerns, he took no interest in subtle questions of religious ceremonial, and was profoundly indifferent as to how his subjects prayed and crossed themselves, provided they obeyed his orders in worldly matters and paid their taxes regularly. as soon, therefore, as political considerations admitted of clemency, he stopped the persecutions, and at last, in , issued ukazes to the effect that all dissenters might live unmolested, provided they inscribed themselves in the official registers and paid a double poll-tax. somewhat later they were allowed to practise freely all their old rites and customs, on condition of paying certain fines. with the accession of catherine ii., "the friend of philosophers," the raskol,* as the schism had come to be called, entered on a new phase. penetrated with the ideas of religious toleration then in fashion in western europe, catherine abolished the disabilities to which the raskolniks were subjected, and invited those of them who had fled across the frontier to return to their homes. thousands accepted the invitation, and many who had hitherto sought to conceal themselves from the eyes of the authorities became rich and respected merchants. the peculiar semi-monastic religious communities, which had up till that time existed only in the forests of the northern and western provinces, began to appear in moscow, and were officially recognised by the administration. at first they took the form of hospitals for the sick, or asylums for the aged and infirm, but soon they became regular monasteries, the superiors of which exercised an undefined spiritual authority not only over the inmates, but also over the members of the sect throughout the length and breadth of the empire. * the term is derived from two russian words--ras, asunder; and kolot, to split. those who belong to the raskol are called raskolniki. they call themselves staro-obriadtsi (old ritualists) or staroveri (old believers). from that time down to the present the government has followed a wavering policy, oscillating between complete tolerance and active persecution. it must, however, be said that the persecution has never been of a very searching kind. in persecution, as in all other manifestations, the russian church directs its attention chiefly to external forms. it does not seek to ferret out heresy in a man's opinions, but complacently accepts as orthodox all who annually appear at confession and communion, and who refrain from acts of open hostility. those who can make these concessions to convenience are practically free from molestation, and those who cannot so trifle with their conscience have an equally convenient method of escaping persecution. the parish clergy, with their customary indifference to things spiritual and their traditional habit of regarding their functions from the financial point of view, are hostile to sectarianism chiefly because it diminishes their revenues by diminishing the number of parishioners requiring their ministrations. this cause of hostility can easily be removed by a certain pecuniary sacrifice on the part of the sectarians, and accordingly there generally exists between them and their parish priest a tacit contract, by which both parties are perfectly satisfied. the priest receives his income as if all his parishioners belonged to the state church, and the parishioners are left in peace to believe and practise what they please. by this rude, convenient method a very large amount of toleration is effectually secured. whether the practise has a beneficial moral influence on the parish clergy is, of course, an entirely different question. when the priest has been satisfied, there still remains the police, which likewise levies an irregular tax on heterodoxy; but the negotiations are generally not difficult, for it is in the interest of both parties that they should come to terms and live in good-fellowship. thus practically the raskolniki live in the same condition as in the time of peter: they pay a tax and are not molested--only the money paid does not now find its way into the imperial exchequer. these external changes in the history of the raskol have exercised a powerful influence on its internal development. when formally anathematised and excluded from the dominant church the nonconformists had neither a definite organisation nor a positive creed. the only tie that bound them together was hostility to the "nikonian novelties," and all they desired was to preserve intact the beliefs and customs of their forefathers. at first they never thought of creating any permanent organisation. the more moderate believed that the tsar would soon re-establish orthodoxy, and the more fanatical imagined that the end of all things was at hand.* in either case they had only to suffer for a little season, keeping themselves free from the taint of heresy and from all contact with the kingdom of antichrist. * some had coffins made, and lay down in them at night, in the expectation that the second advent might take place before the morning. but years passed, and neither of these expectations was fulfilled. the fanatics awaited in vain the sound of the last trump and the appearance of christ, coming with his angels to judge the world. the sun continued to rise, and the seasons followed each other in their accustomed course, but the end was not yet. nor did the civil power return to the old faith. nikon fell a victim to court intrigues and his own overweening pride, and was formally deposed. tsar alexis in the fulness of time was gathered unto his fathers. but there was no sign of a re-establishment of the old orthodoxy. gradually the leading raskolniki perceived that they must make preparations, not for the day of judgment, but for a terrestrial future--that they must create some permanent form of ecclesiastical organisation. in this work they encountered at the very outset not only practical, but also theoretical difficulties. so long as they confined themselves simply to resisting the official innovations, they seemed to be unanimous; but when they were forced to abandon this negative policy and to determine theoretically their new position, radical differences of opinion became apparent. all were convinced that the official russian church had become heretical, and that it had now antichrist instead of christ as its head; but it was not easy to determine what should be done by those who refused to bow the knee to the son of destruction. according to protestant conceptions there was a very simple solution of the difficulty: the nonconformists had simply to create a new church for themselves, and worship god in the way that seemed good to them. but to the russians of that time such notions were still more repulsive than the innovations of nikon. these men were orthodox to the backbone--"plus royalistes que le roi"--and according to orthodox conceptions the founding of a new church is an absurdity. they believed that if the chain of historic continuity were once broken, the church must necessarily cease to exist, in the same way as an ancient family becomes extinct when its sole representative dies without issue. if, therefore, the church had already ceased to exist, there was no longer any means of communication between christ and his people, the sacraments were no longer efficacious, and mankind was forever deprived of the ordinary means of grace. now, on this important point there was a difference of opinion among the dissenters. some of them believed that, though the ecclesiastical authorities had become heretical, the church still existed in the communion of those who had refused to accept the innovations. others declared boldly that the orthodox church had ceased to exist, that the ancient means of grace had been withdrawn, and that those who had remained faithful must thenceforth seek salvation, not in the sacraments, but in prayer and such other religious exercises as did not require the co-operation of duly consecrated priests. thus took place a schism among the schismatics. the one party retained all the sacraments and ceremonial observances in the older form; the other refrained from the sacraments and from many of the ordinary rites, on the ground that there was no longer a real priesthood, and that consequently the sacraments could not be efficacious. the former party are termed staro-obriadsti, or old ritualists; the latter are called bezpopoftsi--that is to say, people "without priests" (bez popov). the succeeding history of these two sections of the nonconformists has been widely different. the old ritualists, being simply ecclesiastical conservatives desirous of resisting all innovations, have remained a compact body little troubled by differences of opinion. the priestless people, on the contrary, ever seeking to discover some new effectual means of salvation, have fallen into an endless number of independent sects. the old ritualists had still, however, one important theoretical difficulty. at first they had amongst themselves plenty of consecrated priests for the celebration of the ordinances, but they had no means of renewing the supply. they had no bishops, and according to orthodox belief the lower degrees of the clergy cannot be created without episcopal consecration. at the time of the schism one bishop had thrown in his lot with the schismatics, but he had died shortly afterwards without leaving a successor, and thereafter no bishop had joined their ranks. as time wore on, the necessity of episcopal consecration came to be more and more felt, and it is not a little interesting to observe how these rigorists, who held to the letter of the law and declared themselves ready to die for a jot or a tittle, modified their theory in accordance with the changing exigencies of their position. when the priests who had kept themselves "pure and undefiled"--free from all contact with antichrist--became scarce, it was discovered that certain priests of the dominant church might be accepted if they formally abjured the nikonian novelties. at first, however, only those who had been consecrated previous to the supposed apostasy of the church were accepted, for the very good reason that consecration by bishops who had become heretical could not be efficacious. when these could no longer be obtained it was discovered that those who had been baptised previous to the apostasy might be accepted; and when even these could no longer be found, a still further concession was made to necessity, and all consecrated priests were received on condition of their solemnly abjuring their errors. of such priests there was always an abundant supply. if a regular priest could not find a parish, or if he was deposed by the authorities for some crime or misdemeanour, he had merely to pass over to the old ritualists, and was sure to find among them a hearty welcome and a tolerable salary. by these concessions the indefinite prolongation of old ritualism was secured, but many of the old ritualists could not but feel that their position was, to say the least, extremely anomalous. they had no bishops of their own, and their priests were all consecrated by bishops whom they believed to be heretical! for many years they hoped to escape from this dilemma by discovering "orthodox"--that is to say, old ritualist--bishops somewhere in the east; but when the east had been searched in vain, and all their efforts to obtain native bishops proved fruitless, they conceived the design of creating a bishopric somewhere beyond the frontier, among the old ritualists who had in times of persecution fled to prussia, austria, and turkey. there were, however, immense difficulties in the way. in the first place it was necessary to obtain the formal permission of some foreign government; and in the second place an orthodox bishop must be found, willing to consecrate an old ritualist or to become an old ritualist himself. again and again the attempt was made, and failed; but at last, after years of effort and intrigue, the design was realised. in the austrian government gave permission to found a bishopric at belaya krinitsa, in galicia, a few miles from the russian frontier; and two years later the deposed metropolitan of bosnia consented, after much hesitation, to pass over to the old ritualist confession and accept the diocese.* from that time the old ritualists have had their own bishops, and have not been obliged to accept the runaway priests of the official church. * an interesting account of these negotiations, and a most curious picture of the orthodox ecclesiastical world in constantinople, is given by subbotiny, "istoria belokrinitskoi ierarkhii," moscow, . the old ritualists were naturally much grieved by the schism, and were often sorely tried by persecution, but they have always enjoyed a certain spiritual tranquillity, proceeding from the conviction that they have preserved for themselves the means of salvation. the position of the more extreme section of the schismatics was much more tragical. they believed that the sacraments had irretrievably lost their efficacy, that the ordinary means of salvation were forever withdrawn, that the powers of darkness had been let loose for a little season, that the authorities were the agents of satan, and that the personage who filled the place of the old god-fearing tsars was no other than antichrist. under the influence of these horrible ideas they fled to the woods and the caves to escape from the rage of the beast, and to await the second coming of our lord. this state of things could not continue permanently. extreme religious fanaticism, like all other abnormal states, cannot long exist in a mass of human beings without some constant exciting cause. the vulgar necessities of everyday life, especially among people who have to live by the labour of their hands, have a wonderfully sobering influence on the excited brain, and must always, sooner or later, prove fatal to inordinate excitement. a few peculiarly constituted individuals may show themselves capable of a lifelong enthusiasm, but the multitude is ever spasmodic in its fervour, and begins to slide back to its former apathy as soon as the exciting cause ceases to act. all this we find exemplified in the history of the priestless people. when it was found that the world did not come to an end, and that the rigorous system of persecution was relaxed, the less excitable natures returned to their homes, and resumed their old mode of life; and when peter the great made his politic concessions, many who had declared him to be antichrist came to suspect that he was really not so black as he was painted. this idea struck deep root in a religious community near lake onega (vuigovski skit) which had received special privileges on condition of supplying labourers for the neighbouring mines; and here was developed a new theory which opened up a way of reconciliation with the government. by a more attentive study of holy writ and ancient books it was discovered that the reign of antichrist would consist of two periods. in the former, the son of destruction would reign merely in the spiritual sense, and the faithful would not be much molested; in the latter, he would reign visibly in the flesh, and true believers would be subjected to the most frightful persecution. the second period, it was held, had evidently not yet arrived, for the faithful now enjoyed "a time of freedom, and not of compulsion or oppression." whether this theory is strictly in accordance with apocalyptic prophecy and patristic theology may be doubted, but it fully satisfied those who had already arrived at the conclusion by a different road, and who sought merely a means of justifying their position. certain it is that very many accepted it, and determined to render unto caesar the things that were caesar's, or, in secular language, to pray for the tsar and to pay their taxes. this ingenious compromise was not accepted by all the priestless people. on the contrary, many of them regarded it as a woeful backsliding--a new device of the evil one; and among these irreconcilables was a certain peasant called theodosi, a man of little education, but of remarkable intellectual power and unusual strength of character. he raised anew the old fanaticism by his preaching and writings--widely circulated in manuscript--and succeeded in founding a new sect in the forest region near the polish frontier. the priestless nonconformists thus fell into two sections; the one, called pomortsi,* accepted at least a partial reconciliation with the civil power; the other, called theodosians, after their founder, held to the old opinions, and refused to regard the tsar otherwise than as antichrist. *the word pomortsi means "those who live near the seashore." it is commonly applied to the inhabitants of the northern provinces--that is, those who live near the shore of the white sea, the only maritime frontier that russia possessed previous to the conquests of peter the great. these latter were at first very wild in their fanaticism, but ere long they gave way to the influences which had softened the fanaticism of the pomortsi. under the liberal, conciliatory rule of catherine they lived in contentment, and many of them enriched themselves by trade. their fanatical zeal and exclusiveness evaporated under the influence of material well-being and constant contact with the outer world, especially after they were allowed to build a monastery in moscow. the superior of this monastery, a man of much shrewdness and enormous wealth, succeeded in gaining the favour not only of the lower officials, who could be easily bought, but even of high-placed dignitaries, and for many years he exercised a very real, if undefined, authority over all sections of the priestless people. "his fame," it is said, "sounded throughout moscow, and the echoes were heard in petropol (st. petersburg), riga, astrakhan, nizhni-novgorod, and other lands of piety"; and when deputies came to consult him, they prostrated themselves in his presence, as before the great ones of the earth. living thus not only in peace and plenty, but even in honour and luxury, "the proud patriarch of the theodosian church" could not consistently fulminate against "the ravenous wolves" with whom he was on friendly terms, or excite the fanaticism of his followers by highly coloured descriptions of "the awful sufferings and persecution of god's people in these latter days," as the founder of the sect had been wont to do. though he could not openly abandon any fundamental doctrines, he allowed the ideas about the reign of antichrist to fall into the background, and taught by example, if not by precept, that the faithful might, by prudent concessions, live very comfortably in this present evil world. this seed fell upon soil already prepared for its reception. the faithful gradually forgot their old savage fanaticism, and they have since contrived, while holding many of their old ideas in theory, to accommodate themselves in practice to the existing order of things. the gradual softening and toning down of the original fanaticism in these two sects are strikingly exemplified in their ideas of marriage. according to orthodox doctrine, marriage is a sacrament which can only be performed by a consecrated priest, and consequently for the priestless people the celebration of marriage was an impossibility. in the first ages of sectarianism a state of celibacy was quite in accordance with their surroundings. living in constant fear of their persecutors, and wandering from one place of refuge to another, the sufferers for the faith had little time or inclination to think of family ties, and readily listened to the monks, who exhorted them to mortify the lusts of the flesh. the result, however, proved that celibacy in the creed by no means ensures chastity in practice. not only in the villages of the dissenters, but even in those religious communities which professed a more ascetic mode of life, a numerous class of "orphans" began to appear, who knew not who their parents were; and this ignorance of blood-relationship naturally led to incestuous connections. besides this, the doctrine of celibacy had grave practical inconveniences, for the peasant requires a housewife to attend to domestic concerns and to help him in his agricultural occupations. thus the necessity of re-establishing family life came to be felt, and the feeling soon found expression in a doctrinal form both among the pomortsi and among the theodsians. learned dissertations were written and disseminated in manuscript copies, violent discussions took place, and at last a great council was held in moscow to discuss the question.* the point at issue was never unanimously decided, but many accepted the ingenious arguments in favour of matrimony, and contracted marriages which were, of course, null and void in the eye of the law and of the church, but valid in all other respects. * i cannot here enter into the details of this remarkable controversy, but i may say that in studying it i have been frequently astonished by the dialectical power and logical subtlety displayed by the disputants, some of them simple peasants. this new backsliding of the unstable multitude produced a new outburst of fanaticism among the stubborn few. some of those who had hitherto sought to conceal the origin of the "orphan" class above referred to now boldly asserted that the existence of this class was a religious necessity, because in order to be saved men must repent, and in order to repent men must sin! at the same time the old ideas about antichrist were revived and preached with fervour by a peasant called philip, who founded a new sect called the philipists. this sect still exists. they hold fast to the old belief that the tsar is antichrist, and that the civil and ecclesiastical authorities are the servants of satan--an idea that was kept alive by the corruption and extortion for which the administration was notorious. they do not venture on open resistance to the authorities, but the bolder members take little pains to conceal their opinions and sentiments, and may be easily recognised by their severe aspect, their puritanical manner, and their pharisaical horror of everything which they suppose heretical and unclean. some of them, it is said, carry this fastidiousness to such an extent that they throw away the handle of a door if it has been touched by a heretic! it may seem that we have here reached the extreme limits of fanaticism, but in reality there were men whom even the pharisaical puritanism of the philipists did not satisfy. these new zealots, who appeared in the time of catherine ii., but first became known to the official world in the reign of nicholas i., rebuked the lukewarmness of their brethren, and founded a new sect in order to preserve intact the asceticism practised immediately after the schism. this sect still exists. they call themselves "christ's people" (christoviye lyudi), but are better known under the popular name of "wanderers" (stranniki), or "fugitives" (beguny). of all the sects they are the most hostile to the existing political and social organisation. not content with condemning the military conscription, the payment of taxes, the acceptance of passports, and everything connected with the civil and ecclesiastical authorities, they consider it sinful to live peaceably among an orthodox--that is, according to their belief, a heretical--population, and to have dealings with any who do not share their extreme views. holding the antichrist doctrine in the extreme form, they declare that tsars are the vessels of satan, that the established church is the dwelling-place of the father of lies, and that all who submit to the authorities are children of the devil. according to this creed, those who wish to escape from the wrath to come must have neither houses nor fixed places of abode, must sever all ties that bind them to the world, and must wander about continually from place to place. true christians are but strangers and pilgrims in the present life, and whoso binds himself to the world will perish with the world. such is the theory of these wanderers, but among them, as among the less fanatical sects, practical necessities have produced concessions and compromises. as it is impossible to lead a nomadic life in russian forests, the wanderers have been compelled to admit into their ranks what may be called lay-brethren--men who nominally belong to the sect, but who live like ordinary mortals and have some rational way of gaining a livelihood. these latter live in the villages or towns, support themselves by agriculture or trade, accept passports from the authorities, pay their taxes regularly, and conduct themselves in all outward respects like loyal subjects. their chief religious duty consists in giving food and shelter to their more zealous brethren, who have adopted a vagabond life in practise as well as in theory. it is only when they feel death approaching that they consider it necessary to separate themselves from the heretical world, and they effect this by having themselves carried out to some neighbouring wood--or into a garden if there is no wood at hand--where they may die in the open air. thus, we see, there is among the russian nonconformist sects what may be called a gradation of fanaticism, in which is reflected the history of the great schism. in the wanderers we have the representatives of those who adopted and preserved the antichrist doctrine in its extreme form--the successors of those who fled to the forests to escape from the rage of the beast and to await the second coming of christ. in the philipists we have the representatives of those who adopted these ideas in a somewhat softer form, and who came to recognise the necessity of having some regular means of subsistence until the last trump should be heard. the theodosians represent those who were in theory at one with the preceding category, but who, having less religious fanaticism, considered it necessary to yield to force and make peace with the government without sacrificing their convictions. in the pomortsi we see those who preserved only the religious ideas of the schism, and became reconciled with the civil power. lastly we have the old ritualists, who differed from all the other sects in retaining the old ordinances, and who simply rejected the spiritual authority of the dominant church. besides these chief sections of the nonconformists there are a great many minor denominations (tolki), differing from each other on minor points of doctrine. in certain districts, it is said, nearly every village has one or two independent sects. this is especially the case among the don cossacks and the cossacks of the ural, who are in part descendants of the men who fled from the early persecutions. of all the sects the old ritualists stand nearest to the official church. they hold the same dogmas, practise the same rites, and differ only in trifling ceremonial matters, which few people consider essential. in the hope of inducing them to return to the official fold the government created at the beginning of last century special churches, in which they were allowed to retain their ceremonial peculiarities on condition of accepting regularly consecrated priests and submitting to ecclesiastical jurisdiction. as yet the design has not met with much success. the great majority of the old ritualists regard it as a trap, and assert that the church in making this concession has been guilty of self-contradiction. "the ecclesiastical council of moscow," they say, "anathematised our forefathers for holding to the old ritual, and declared that the whole course of nature would be changed sooner than the curse be withdrawn. the course of nature has not been changed, but the anathema has been cancelled." this argument ought to have a certain weight with those who believe in the infallibility of ecclesiastical councils. towards the priestless people the government has always acted in a much less conciliatory spirit. its severity has been sometimes justified on the ground that sectarianism has had a political as well as a religious significance. a state like russia cannot overlook the existence of sects which preach the duty of systematic resistance to the civil and ecclesiastical authorities and hold doctrines which lead to the grossest immorality. this argument, it must be admitted, is not without a certain force, but it seems to me that the policy adopted tended to increase rather than diminish the evils which it sought to cure. instead of dispelling the absurd idea that the tsar was antichrist by a system of strict and evenhanded justice, punishing merely actual crimes and delinquencies, the government confirmed the notion in the minds of thousands by persecuting those who had committed no crime and who desired merely to worship god according to their conscience. above all it erred in opposing and punishing those marriages which, though legally irregular, were the best possible means of diminishing fanaticism, by leading back the fanatics to healthy social life. fortunately these errors have now been abandoned. a policy of greater clemency and conciliation has been adopted, and has proved much more efficacious than persecution. the dissenters have not returned to the official fold, but they have lost much of their old fanaticism and exclusiveness. in respect of numbers the sectarians compose a very formidable body. of old ritualists and priestless people there are, it is said, no less than eleven millions; and the protestant and fantastical sects comprise probably about five millions more. if these numbers be correct, the sectarians constitute about an eighth of the whole population of the empire. they count in their ranks none of the nobles--none of the so-called enlightened class--but they include in their number a respectable proportion of the peasants, a third of the rich merchant class, the majority of the don cossacks, and nearly all the cossacks of the ural. under these circumstances it is important to know how far the sectarians are politically disaffected. some people imagine that in the event of an insurrection or a foreign invasion they might rise against the government, whilst others believe that this supposed danger is purely imaginary. for my own part i agree with the latter opinion, which is strongly supported by the history of many important events, such as the french invasion in , the crimean war, and the last polish insurrection. the great majority of the schismatics and heretics are, i believe, loyal subjects of the tsar. the more violent sects, which are alone capable of active hostility against the authorities, are weak in numbers, and regard all outsiders with such profound mistrust that they are wholly impervious to inflammatory influences from without. even if all the sects were capable of active hostility, they would not be nearly so formidable as their numbers seem to indicate, for they are hostile to each other, and are wholly incapable of combining for a common purpose. though sectarianism is thus by no means a serious political danger, it has nevertheless a considerable political significance. it proves satisfactorily that the russian people is by no means so docile and pliable as is commonly supposed, and that it is capable of showing a stubborn, passive resistance to authority when it believes great interests to be at stake. the dogged energy which it has displayed in asserting for centuries its religious liberty may perhaps some day be employed in the arena of secular politics. chapter xix church and state the russian orthodox church--russia outside of the mediaeval papal commonwealth--influence of the greek church--ecclesiastical history of russia--relations between church and state--eastern orthodoxy and the russian national church--the synod--ecclesiastical grumbling--local ecclesiastical administration--the black clergy and the monasteries--the character of the eastern church reflected in the history of religious art--practical consequences--the union scheme. from the curious world of heretics and dissenters let us pass now to the russian orthodox church, to which the great majority of the russian people belong. it has played an important part in the national history, and has exercised a powerful influence in the formation of the national character. russians are in the habit of patriotically and proudly congratulating themselves on the fact that their forefathers always resisted successfully the aggressive tendencies of the papacy, but it may be doubted whether, from a worldly point of view, the freedom from papal authority has been an unmixed blessing for the country. if the popes failed to realise their grand design of creating a vast european empire based on theocratic principles, they succeeded at least in inspiring with a feeling of brotherhood and a vague consciousness of common interest all the nations which acknowledged their spiritual supremacy. these nations, whilst remaining politically independent and frequently coming into hostile contact with each other, all looked to rome as the capital of the christian world, and to the pope as the highest terrestrial authority. though the church did not annihilate nationality, it made a wide breach in the political barriers, and formed a channel for international communication by which the social and intellectual progress of each nation became known to all the other members of the great christian confederacy. throughout the length and breadth of the papal commonwealth educated men had a common language, a common literature, a common scientific method, and to a certain extent a common jurisprudence. western christendom was thus all through the middle ages not merely an abstract conception or a geographical expression: if not a political, it was at least a religious and intellectual unit, and all the countries of which it was composed benefited more or less by the connection. for centuries russia stood outside of this religious and intellectual confederation, for her church connected her not with rome, but with constantinople, and papal europe looked upon her as belonging to the barbarous east. when the mongol hosts swept over her plains, burnt her towns and villages, and finally incorporated her into the great empire of genghis khan, the so-called christian world took no interest in the struggle except in so far as its own safety was threatened. and as time wore on, the barriers which separated the two great sections of christendom became more and more formidable. the aggressive pretensions and ambitious schemes of the vatican produced in the greek orthodox world a profound antipathy to the roman catholic church and to western influence of every kind. so strong was this aversion that when the nations of the west awakened in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries from their intellectual lethargy and began to move forward on the path of intellectual and material progress, russia not only remained unmoved, but looked on the new civilisation with suspicion and fear as a thing heretical and accursed. we have here one of the chief reasons why russia, at the present day, is in many respects less civilised than the nations of western europe. but it is not merely in this negative way that the acceptance of christianity from constantinople has affected the fate of russia. the greek church, whilst excluding roman catholic civilisation, exerted at the same time a powerful positive influence on the historical development of the nation. the church of the west inherited from old rome something of that logical, juridical, administrative spirit which had created the roman law, and something of that ambition and dogged, energetic perseverance that had formed nearly the whole known world into a great centralised empire. the bishops of rome early conceived the design of reconstructing that old empire on a new basis, and long strove to create a universal christian theocratic state, in which kings and other civil authorities should be the subordinates of christ's vicar upon earth. the eastern church, on the contrary, has remained true to her byzantine traditions, and has never dreamed of such lofty pretensions. accustomed to lean on the civil power, she has always been content to play a secondary part, and has never strenuously resisted the formation of national churches. for about two centuries after the introduction of christianity--from to --russia formed, ecclesiastically speaking, part of the patriarchate of constantinople. the metropolitans and the bishops were greek by birth and education, and the ecclesiastical administration was guided and controlled by the byzantine patriarchs. but from the time of the mongol invasion, when communication with constantinople became more difficult and educated native priests had become more numerous, this complete dependence on the patriarch of constantinople ceased. the princes gradually arrogated to themselves the right of choosing the metropolitan of kief--who was at that time the chief ecclesiastical dignitary in russia--and merely sent their nominees to constantinople for consecration. about this formality came to be dispensed with, and the metropolitan was commonly consecrated by a council of russian bishops. a further step in the direction of ecclesiastical autonomy was taken in , when the tsar succeeded in procuring the consecration of a russian patriarch, equal in dignity and authority to the patriarchs of constantinople, jerusalem, antioch, and alexandria. in all matters of external form the patriarch of moscow was a very important personage. he exercised a certain influence in civil as well as ecclesiastical affairs, bore the official title of "great lord" (veliki gosudar), which had previously been reserved for the civil head of the state, and habitually received from the people scarcely less veneration than the tsar himself. but in reality he possessed very little independent power. the tsar was the real ruler in ecclesiastical as well as in civil affairs.* * as this is frequently denied by russians, it may be well to quote one authority out of many that might be cited. bishop makarii, whose erudition and good faith are alike above suspicion, says of dmitri of the don: "he arrogated to himself full, unconditional power over the head of the russian church, and through him over the whole russian church itself." ("istoriya russkoi tserkvi," v., p. .) this is said of a grand prince who had strong rivals and had to treat the church as an ally. when the grand princes became tsars and had no longer any rivals, their power was certainly not diminished. any further confirmation that may be required will be found in the life of the famous patriarch nikon. the russian patriarchate came to an end in the time of peter the great. peter wished, among other things, to reform the ecclesiastical administration, and to introduce into his country many novelties which the majority of the clergy and of the people regarded as heretical; and he clearly perceived that a bigoted, energetic patriarch might throw considerable obstacles in his way, and cause him infinite annoyance. though such a patriarch might be deposed without any flagrant violation of the canonical formalities, the operation would necessarily be attended with great trouble and loss of time. peter was no friend of roundabout, tortuous methods, and preferred to remove the difficulty in his usual thorough, violent fashion. when the patriarch adrian died, the customary short interregnum was prolonged for twenty years, and when the people had thus become accustomed to having no patriarch, it was announced that no more patriarchs would be elected. their place was supplied by an ecclesiastical council, or synod, in which, as a contemporary explained, "the mainspring was peter's power, and the pendulum his understanding." the great autocrat justly considered that such a council could be much more easily managed than a stubborn patriarch, and the wisdom of the measure has been duly appreciated by succeeding sovereigns. though the idea of re-establishing the patriarchate has more than once been raised, it has never been carried into execution. the holy synod remains the highest ecclesiastical authority. but the emperor? what is his relation to the synod and to the church in general? this is a question about which zealous orthodox russians are extremely sensitive. if a foreigner ventures to hint in their presence that the emperor seems to have a considerable influence in the church, he may inadvertently produce a little outburst of patriotic warmth and virtuous indignation. the truth is that many russians have a pet theory on this subject, and have at the same time a dim consciousness that the theory is not quite in accordance with reality. they hold theoretically that the orthodox church has no "head" but christ, and is in some peculiar undefined sense entirely independent of all terrestrial authority. in this respect it is often contrasted with the anglican church, much to the disadvantage of the latter; and the supposed differences between the two are made a theme for semi-religious, semi-patriotic exultation. khomiakof, for instance, in one of his most vigorous poems, predicts that god will one day take the destiny of the world out of the hands of england in order to give it to russia, and he adduces as one of the reasons for this transfer the fact that england "has chained, with sacrilegious hand, the church of god to the pedestal of the vain earthly power." so far the theory. as to the facts, it is unquestionable that the tsar exercises a much greater influence in ecclesiastical affairs than the king and parliament in england. all who know the internal history of russia are aware that the government does not draw a clear line of distinction between the temporal and the spiritual, and that it occasionally uses the ecclesiastical organisation for political purposes. what, then, are the relations between church and state? to avoid confusion, we must carefully distinguish between the eastern orthodox church as a whole and that section of it which is known as the russian church. the eastern orthodox church* is, properly speaking, a confederation of independent churches without any central authority--a unity founded on the possession of a common dogma and on the theoretical but now unrealisable possibility of holding ecumenical councils. the russian national church is one of the members of this ecclesiastical confederation. in matters of faith it is bound by the decisions of the ancient ecumenical councils, but in all other respects it enjoys complete independence and autonomy. * or greek orthodox church, as it is sometimes called. in relation to the orthodox church as a whole the emperor of russia is nothing more than a simple member, and can no more interfere with its dogmas or ceremonial than a king of italy or an emperor of the french could modify roman catholic theology; but in relation to the russian national church his position is peculiar. he is described in one of the fundamental laws as "the supreme defender and preserver of the dogmas of the dominant faith," and immediately afterwards it is said that "the autocratic power acts in the ecclesiastical administration by means of the most holy governing synod, created by it."* this describes very fairly the relations between the emperor and the church. he is merely the defender of the dogmas, and cannot in the least modify them; but he is at the same time the chief administrator, and uses the synod as an instrument. * svod zakonov i., , . some ingenious people who wish to prove that the creation of the synod was not an innovation represent the institution as a resuscitation of the ancient local councils; but this view is utterly untenable. the synod is not a council of deputies from various sections of the church, but a permanent college, or ecclesiastical senate, the members of which are appointed and dismissed by the emperor as he thinks fit. it has no independent legislative authority, for its legislative projects do not become law till they have received the imperial sanction; and they are always published, not in the name of the church, but in the name of the supreme power. even in matters of simple administration it is not independent, for all its resolutions require the consent of the procureur, a layman nominated by his majesty. in theory this functionary protests only against those resolutions which are not in accordance with the civil law of the country; but as he alone has the right to address the emperor directly on ecclesiastical concerns, and as all communications between the emperor and the synod pass through his hands, he possesses in reality considerable power. besides this, he can always influence the individual members by holding out prospects of advancement and decorations, and if this device fails, he can make refractory members retire, and fill up their places with men of more pliant disposition. a council constituted in this way cannot, of course, display much independence of thought or action, especially in a country like russia, where no one ventures to oppose openly the imperial will. it must not, however, be supposed that the russian ecclesiastics regard the imperial authority with jealousy or dislike. they are all most loyal subjects, and warm adherents of autocracy. those ideas of ecclesiastical independence which are so common in western europe, and that spirit of opposition to the civil power which animates the roman catholic clergy, are entirely foreign to their minds. if a bishop sometimes complains to an intimate friend that he has been brought to st. petersburg and made a member of the synod merely to append his signature to official papers and to give his consent to foregone conclusions, his displeasure is directed, not against the emperor, but against the procureur. he is full of loyalty and devotion to the tsar, and has no desire to see his majesty excluded from all influence in ecclesiastical affairs; but he feels saddened and humiliated when he finds that the whole government of the church is in the hands of a lay functionary, who may be a military man, and who looks at all matters from a layman's point of view. this close connection between church and state and the thoroughly national character of the russian church is well illustrated by the history of the local ecclesiastical administration. the civil and the ecclesiastical administration have always had the same character and have always been modified by the same influences. the terrorism which was largely used by the muscovite tsars and brought to a climax by peter the great appeared equally in both. in the episcopal circulars, as in the imperial ukazes, we find frequent mention of "most cruel corporal punishment," "cruel punishment with whips, so that the delinquent and others may not acquire the habit of practising such insolence," and much more of the same kind. and these terribly severe measures were sometimes directed against very venial offences. the bishop of vologda, for instance, in decrees "cruel corporal punishment" against priests who wear coarse and ragged clothes,* and the records of the consistorial courts contain abundant proof that such decrees were rigorously executed. when catherine ii. introduced a more humane spirit into the civil administration, corporal punishment was at once abolished in the consistorial courts, and the procedure was modified according to the accepted maxims of civil jurisprudence. but i must not weary the reader with tiresome historical details. suffice it to say that, from the time of peter the great downwards, the character of all the more energetic sovereigns is reflected in the history of the ecclesiastical administration. * znamenski, "prikhodskoe dukhovenstvo v rossii so vremeni reformy petra," kazan, . each province, or "government," forms a diocese, and the bishop, like the civil governor, has a council which theoretically controls his power, but practically has no controlling influence whatever. the consistorial council, which has in the theory of ecclesiastical procedure a very imposing appearance, is in reality the bishop's chancellerie, and its members are little more than secretaries, whose chief object is to make themselves agreeable to their superior. and it must be confessed that, so long as they remain what they are, the less power they possess the better it will be for those who have the misfortune to be under their jurisdiction. the higher dignitaries have at least larger aims and a certain consciousness of the dignity of their position; but the lower officials, who have no such healthy restraints and receive ridiculously small salaries, grossly misuse the little authority which they possess, and habitually pilfer and extort in the most shameless manner. the consistories are, in fact, what the public offices were in the time of nicholas i. the higher ecclesiastical administration has always been in the hands of the monks, or "black clergy," as they are commonly termed, who form a large and influential class. the monks who first settled in russia were, like those who first visited north-western europe, men of the earnest, ascetic, missionary type. filled with zeal for the glory of god and the salvation of souls, they took little or no thought for the morrow, and devoutly believed that their heavenly father, without whose knowledge no sparrow falls to the ground, would provide for their humble wants. poor, clad in rags, eating the most simple fare, and ever ready to share what they had with any one poorer than themselves, they performed faithfully and earnestly the work which their master had given them to do. but this ideal of monastic life soon gave way in russia, as in the west, to practices less simple and austere. by the liberal donations and bequests of the faithful the monasteries became rich in gold, in silver, in precious stones, and above all in land and serfs. troitsa, for instance, possessed at one time , serfs and a proportionate amount of land, and it is said that at the beginning of the eighteenth century more than a fourth of the entire population had fallen under the jurisdiction of the church. many of the monasteries engaged in commerce, and the monks were, if we may credit fletcher, who visited russia in , the most intelligent merchants of the country. during the eighteenth century the church lands were secularised, and the serfs of the church became serfs of the state. this was a severe blow for the monasteries, but it did not prove fatal, as many people predicted. some monasteries were abolished and others were reduced to extreme poverty, but many survived and prospered. these could no longer possess serfs, but they had still three sources of revenue: a limited amount of real property, government subsidies, and the voluntary offerings of the faithful. at present there are about monastic establishments, and the great majority of them, though not wealthy, have revenues more than sufficient to satisfy all the requirements of an ascetic life. thus in russia, as in western europe, the history of monastic institutions is composed of three chapters, which may be briefly entitled: asceticism and missionary enterprise; wealth, luxury, and corruption; secularisation of property and decline. but between eastern and western monasticism there is at least one marked difference. the monasticism of the west made at various epochs of its history a vigorous, spontaneous effort at self-regeneration, which found expression in the foundation of separate orders, each of which proposed to itself some special aim--some special sphere of usefulness. in russia we find no similar phenomenon. here the monasteries never deviated from the rules of st. basil, which restrict the members to religious ceremonies, prayer, and contemplation. from time to time a solitary individual raised his voice against the prevailing abuses, or retired from his monastery to spend the remainder of his days in ascetic solitude; but neither in the monastic population as a whole, nor in any particular monastery, do we find at any time a spontaneous, vigorous movement towards reform. during the last two hundred years reforms have certainly been effected, but they have all been the work of the civil power, and in the realisation of them the monks have shown little more than the virtue of resignation. here, as elsewhere, we have evidence of that inertness, apathy, and want of spontaneous vigour which form one of the most characteristic traits of russian national life. in this, as in other departments of national activity, the spring of action has lain not in the people, but in the government. it is only fair to the monks to state that in their dislike to progress and change of every kind they merely reflect the traditional spirit of the church to which they belong. the russian church, like the eastern orthodox church generally, is essentially conservative. anything in the nature of a religious revival is foreign to her traditions and character. quieta non movere is her fundamental principle of conduct. she prides herself as being above terrestrial influences. the modifications that have been made in her administrative organisation have not affected her inner nature. in spirit and character she is now what she was under the patriarchs in the time of the muscovite tsars, holding fast to the promise that no jot or tittle shall pass from the law till all be fulfilled. to those who talk about the requirements of modern life and modern science she turns a deaf ear. partly from the predominance which she gives to the ceremonial element, partly from the fact that her chief aim is to preserve unmodified the doctrine and ceremonial as determined by the early ecumenical councils, and partly from the low state of general culture among the clergy, she has ever remained outside of the intellectual movements. the attempts of the roman catholic church to develop the traditional dogmas by definition and deduction, and the efforts of protestants to reconcile their creeds with progressive science and the ever-varying intellectual currents of the time, are alike foreign to her nature. hence she has produced no profound theological treatises conceived in a philosophical spirit, and has made no attempt to combat the spirit of infidelity in its modern forms. profoundly convinced that her position is impregnable, she has "let the nations rave," and scarcely deigned to cast a glance at their intellectual and religious struggles. in a word, she is "in the world, but not of it." if we wish to see represented in a visible form the peculiar characteristics of the russian church, we have only to glance at russian religious art, and compare it with that of western europe. in the west, from the time of the renaissance downwards, religious art has kept pace with artistic progress. gradually it emancipated itself from archaic forms and childish symbolism, converted the lifeless typical figures into living individuals, lit up their dull eyes and expressionless faces with human intelligence and human feeling, and finally aimed at archaeological accuracy in costume and other details. thus in the west the icon grew slowly into the naturalistic portrait, and the rude symbolical groups developed gradually into highly-finished historical pictures. in russia the history of religious art has been entirely different. instead of distinctive schools of painting and great religious artists, there has been merely an anonymous traditional craft, destitute of any artistic individuality. in all the productions of this craft the old byzantine forms have been faithfully and rigorously preserved, and we can see reflected in the modern icons--stiff, archaic, expressionless--the immobility of the eastern church in general, and of the russian church in particular. to the roman catholic, who struggles against science as soon as it contradicts traditional conceptions, and to the protestant, who strives to bring his religious beliefs into accordance with his scientific knowledge, the russian church may seem to resemble an antediluvian petrifaction, or a cumbrous line-of-battle ship that has been long stranded. it must be confessed, however, that the serene inactivity for which she is distinguished has had very valuable practical consequences. the russian clergy have neither that haughty, aggressive intolerance which characterises their roman catholic brethren, nor that bitter, uncharitable, sectarian spirit which is too often to be found among protestants. they allow not only to heretics, but also to members of their own communion, the most complete intellectual freedom, and never think of anathematising any one for his scientific or unscientific opinions. all that they demand is that those who have been born within the pale of orthodoxy should show the church a certain nominal allegiance; and in this matter of allegiance they are by no mean very exacting. so long as a member refrains from openly attacking the church and from going over to another confession, he may entirely neglect all religious ordinances and publicly profess scientific theories logically inconsistent with any kind of dogmatic religious belief without the slightest danger of incurring ecclesiastical censure. this apathetic tolerance may be partly explained by the national character, but it is also to some extent due to the peculiar relations between church and state. the government vigilantly protects the church from attack, and at the same time prevents her from attacking her enemies. hence religious questions are never discussed in the press, and the ecclesiastical literature is all historical, homiletic, or devotional. the authorities allow public oral discussions to be held during lent in the kremlin of moscow between members of the state church and old ritualists; but these debates are not theological in our sense of the term. they turn exclusively on details of church history, and on the minutiae of ceremonial observance. a few years ago there was a good deal of vague talk about a possible union of the russian and anglican churches. if by "union" is meant simply union in the bonds of brotherly love, there can be, of course, no objection to any amount of such pia desideria; but if anything more real and practical is intended, the project is an absurdity. a real union of the russian and anglican churches would be as difficult of realisation, and is as undesirable, as a union of the russian council of state and the british house of commons.* * i suppose that the more serious partisans of the union scheme mean union with the eastern orthodox, and not with the russian, church. to them the above remarks are not addressed. their scheme is, in my opinion, unrealisable and undesirable, but it contains nothing absurd. chapter xx the noblesse the nobles in early times--the mongol domination--the tsardom of muscovy--family dignity--reforms of peter the great--the nobles adopt west-european conceptions--abolition of obligatory service--influence of catherine ii.--the russian dvoryanstvo compared with the french noblesse and the english aristocracy--russian titles--probable future of the russian noblesse. hitherto i have been compelling the reader to move about among what we should call the lower classes--peasants, burghers, traders, parish priests, dissenters, heretics, cossacks, and the like--and he feels perhaps inclined to complain that he has had no opportunity of mixing with what old-fashioned people call gentle-folk and persons of quality. by way of making amends to him for this reprehensible conduct on my part, i propose now to present him to the whole noblesse* in a body, not only those at present living, but also their near and distant ancestors, right back to the foundation of the russian empire a thousand years ago. thereafter i shall introduce him to some of the country families and invite him to make with me a few country-house visits. * i use here a foreign, in preference to an english, term, because the word "nobility" would convey a false impression. etymologically the russian word "dvoryanin" means a courtier (from dvor=court); but this term is equally objectionable, because the great majority of the dvoryanstvo have nothing to do with the court. in the old times, when russia was merely a collection of some seventy independent principalities, each reigning prince was surrounded by a group of armed men, composed partly of boyars, or large landed proprietors, and partly of knights, or soldiers of fortune. these men, who formed the noblesse of the time, were to a certain extent under the authority of the prince, but they were by no means mere obedient, silent executors of his will. the boyars might refuse to take part in his military expeditions, and the "free-lances" might leave his service and seek employment elsewhere. if he wished to go to war without their consent, they could say to him, as they did on one occasion, "you have planned this yourself, prince, so we will not go with you, for we knew nothing of it." nor was this resistance to the princely will always merely passive. once, in the principality of galitch, the armed men seized their prince, killed his favourites, burned his mistress, and made him swear that he would in future live with his lawful wife. to his successor, who had married the wife of a priest, they spoke thus: "we have not risen against you, prince, but we will not do reverence to a priest's wife: we will put her to death, and then you may marry whom you please." even the energetic bogolubski, one of the most remarkable of the old princes, did not succeed in having his own way. when he attempted to force the boyars he met with stubborn opposition, and was finally assassinated. from these incidents, which might be indefinitely multiplied from the old chronicles, we see that in the early period of russian history the boyars and knights were a body of free men, possessing a considerable amount of political power. under the mongol domination this political equilibrium was destroyed. when the country had been conquered, the princes became servile vassals of the khan and arbitrary rulers towards their own subjects. the political significance of the nobles was thereby greatly diminished. it was not, however, by any means annihilated. though the prince no longer depended entirely on their support, he had an interest in retaining their services, to protect his territory in case of sudden attack, or to increase his possessions at the expense of his neighbours when a convenient opportunity presented itself. theoretically, such conquests were impossible, for all removing of the ancient landmarks depended on the decision of the khan; but in reality the khan paid little attention to the affairs of his vassals so long as the tribute was regularly paid; and much took place in russia without his permission. we find, therefore, in some of the principalities the old relations still subsisting under mongol rule. the famous dmitri of the don, for instance, when on his death-bed, speaks thus to his boyars: "you know my habits and my character; i was born among you, grew up among you, governed with you--fighting by your side, showing you honour and love, and placing you over towns and districts. i loved your children, and did evil to no one. i rejoiced with you in your joy, mourned with you in your grief, and called you the princes of my land." then, turning to his children, he adds, as a parting advice: "love your boyars, my children; show them the honour which their services merit, and undertake nothing without their consent." when the grand princes of moscow brought the other principalities under their power, and formed them into the tsardom of muscovy, the nobles descended another step in the political scale. so long as there were many principalities they could quit the service of a prince as soon as he gave them reason to be discontented, knowing that they would be well received by one of his rivals; but now they had no longer any choice. the only rival of moscow was lithuania, and precautions were taken to prevent the discontented from crossing the lithuanian frontier. the nobles were no longer voluntary adherents of a prince, but had become subjects of a tsar; and the tsars were not as the old princes had been. by a violent legal fiction they conceived themselves to be the successors of the byzantine emperors, and created a new court ceremonial, borrowed partly from constantinople and partly from the mongol horde. they no longer associated familiarly with the boyars, and no longer asked their advice, but treated them rather as menials. when the nobles entered their august master's presence they prostrated themselves in oriental fashion--occasionally as many as thirty times--and when they incurred his displeasure they were summarily flogged or executed, according to the tsar's good pleasure. in succeeding to the power of the khans, the tsars had adopted, we see, a good deal of the mongol system of government. it may seem strange that a class of men which had formerly shown a proud spirit of independence should have submitted quietly to such humiliation and oppression without making a serious effort to curb the new power, which had no longer a tartar horde at its back to quell opposition. but we must remember that the nobles, as well as the princes, had passed in the meantime through the school of the mongol domination. in the course of two centuries they had gradually become accustomed to despotic rule in the oriental sense. if they felt their position humiliating and irksome, they must have felt, too, how difficult it was to better it. their only resource lay in combining against the common oppressor; and we have only to glance at the motley, disorganised group, as they cluster round the tsar, to perceive that combination was extremely difficult. we can distinguish there the mediatised princes, still harbouring designs for the recovery of their independence; the moscow boyars, jealous of their family honour and proud of muscovite supremacy; tartar murzi, who have submitted to be baptised and have received land like the other nobles; the novgorodian magnate, who cannot forget the ancient glory of his native city; lithuanian nobles, who find it more profitable to serve the tsar than their own sovereign; petty chiefs who have fled from the opposition of the teutonic order; and soldiers of fortune from every part of russia. strong, permanent political factors are not easily formed out of such heterogeneous material. at the end of the sixteenth century the old dynasty became extinct, and after a short period of political anarchy, commonly called "the troublous times" (smutnoe vremya), the romanof family were raised to the throne by the will of the people, or at least by those who were assumed to be its representatives. by this change the noblesse acquired a somewhat better position. they were no longer exposed to capricious tyranny and barbarous cruelty, such as they had experienced at the hands of ivan the terrible, but they did not, as a class, gain any political influence. there were still rival families and rival factions, but there were no political parties in the proper sense of the term, and the highest aim of families and factions was to gain the favour of the tsar. the frequent quarrels about precedence which took place among the rival families at this period form one of the most curious episodes of russian history. the old patriarchal conception of the family as a unit, one and indivisible, was still so strong among these men that the elevation or degradation of one member of a family was considered to affect deeply the honour of all the other members. each noble family had its rank in a recognised scale of dignity, according to the rank which it held, or had previously held, in the tsar's service; and a whole family would have considered itself dishonoured if one of its members accepted a post lower than that to which he was entitled. whenever a vacant place in the service was filled up, the subordinates of the successful candidate examined the official records and the genealogical trees of their families, in order to discover whether some ancestor of their new superior had not served under one of their own ancestors. if the subordinate found such a case, he complained to the tsar that it was not becoming for him to serve under a man who had less family honour than himself. unfounded complaints of this kind often entailed imprisonment or corporal punishment, but in spite of this the quarrels for precedence were very frequent. at the commencement of a campaign many such disputes were sure to arise, and the tsar's decision was not always accepted by the party who considered himself aggrieved. i have met at least with one example of a great dignitary voluntarily mutilating his hand in order to escape the necessity of serving under a man whom he considered his inferior in family dignity. even at the tsar's table these rivalries sometimes produced unseemly incidents, for it was almost impossible to arrange the places so as to satisfy all the guests. in one recorded instance a noble who received a place lower than that to which he considered himself entitled openly declared to the tsar that he would rather be condemned to death than submit to such an indignity. in another instance of a similar kind the refractory guest was put on his chair by force, but saved his family honour by slipping under the table! the next transformation of the noblesse was effected by peter the great. peter was by nature and position an autocrat, and could brook no opposition. having set before himself a great aim, he sought everywhere obedient, intelligent, energetic instruments to carry out his designs. he himself served the state zealously--as a common artisan, when he considered it necessary--and he insisted on all his subjects doing likewise, under pain of merciless punishment. to noble birth and long pedigrees he habitually showed a most democratic, or rather autocratic, indifference. intent on obtaining the service of living men, he paid no attention to the claims of dead ancestors, and gave to his servants the pay and honour which their services merited, irrespectively of birth or social position. hence many of his chief coadjutors had no connection with the old russian families. count yaguzhinski, who long held one of the most important posts in the state, was the son of a poor sacristan; count devier was a portuguese by birth, and had been a cabin-boy; baron shafirof was a jew; hannibal, who died with the rank of commander in chief, was a negro who had been bought in constantinople; and his serene highness prince menshikof had begun life, it was said, as a baker's apprentice! for the future, noble birth was to count for nothing. the service of the state was thrown open to men of all ranks, and personal merit was to be the only claim to promotion. this must have seemed to the conservatives of the time a most revolutionary and reprehensible proceeding, but it did not satisfy the reforming tendencies of the great autocrat. he went a step further, and entirely changed the legal status of the noblesse. down to his time the nobles were free to serve or not as they chose, and those who chose to serve enjoyed land on what we should call a feudal tenure. some served permanently in the military or civil administration, but by far the greater number lived on their estates, and entered the active service merely when the militia was called out in view of war. this system was completely changed when peter created a large standing army and a great centralised bureaucracy. by one of those "fell swoops" which periodically occur in russian history, he changed the feudal into freehold tenures, and laid down the principle that all nobles, whatever their landed possessions might be, should serve the state in the army, the fleet, or the civil administration, from boyhood to old age. in accordance with this principle, any noble who refused to serve was not only deprived of his estate, as in the old times, but was declared to be a traitor and might be condemned to capital punishment. the nobles were thus transformed into servants of the state, and the state in the time of peter was a hard taskmaster. they complained bitterly, and with reason, that they had been deprived of their ancient rights, and were compelled to accept quietly and uncomplainingly whatever burdens their master chose to place upon them. "though our country," they said, "is in no danger of invasion, no sooner is peace concluded than plans are laid for a new war, which has generally no other foundation than the ambition of the sovereign, or perhaps merely the ambition of one of his ministers. to please him our peasants are utterly exhausted, and we ourselves are forced to leave our homes and families, not as formerly for a single campaign, but for long years. we are compelled to contract debts and to entrust our estates to thieving overseers, who commonly reduce them to such a condition that when we are allowed to retire from the service, in consequence of old age or illness, we cannot to the end of our lives retrieve our prosperity. in a word, we are so exhausted and ruined by the keeping up of a standing army, and by the consequences flowing therefrom, that the most cruel enemy, though he should devastate the whole empire, could not cause us one-half of the injury."* * these complaints have been preserved by vockerodt, a prussian diplomatic agent of the time. this spartan regime, which ruthlessly sacrificed private interests to considerations of state policy, could not long be maintained in its pristine severity. it undermined its own foundations by demanding too much. draconian laws threatening confiscation and capital punishment were of little avail. nobles became monks, inscribed themselves as merchants, or engaged themselves as domestic servants, in order to escape their obligations. "some," says a contemporary, "grow old in disobedience and have never once appeared in active service. . . . there is, for instance, theodore mokeyef. . . . in spite of the strict orders sent regarding him no one could ever catch him. some of those sent to take him he belaboured with blows, and when he could not beat the messengers, he pretended to be dangerously ill, or feigned idiocy, and, running into the pond, stood in the water up to his neck; but as soon as the messengers were out of sight he returned home and roared like a lion." * * pososhkof, "o skudosti i bogatstve." after peter's death the system was gradually relaxed, but the noblesse could not be satisfied by partial concessions. russia had in the meantime moved, as it were, out of asia into europe, and had become one of the great european powers. the upper classes had been gradually learning something of the fashions, the literature, the institutions, and the moral conceptions of western europe, and the nobles naturally compared the class to which they belonged with the aristocracies of germany and france. for those who were influenced by the new foreign ideas the comparison was humiliating. in the west the noblesse was a free and privileged class, proud of its liberty, its rights, and its culture; whereas in russia the nobles were servants of the state, without privileges, without dignity, subject to corporal punishment, and burdened with onerous duties from which there was no escape. thus arose in that section of the noblesse which had some acquaintance with western civilisation a feeling of discontent, and a desire to gain a social position similar to that of the nobles in france and germany. these aspirations were in part realised by peter iii., who in abolished the principle of obligatory service. his consort, catherine ii., went much farther in the same direction, and inaugurated a new epoch in the history of the dvoryanstvo, a period in which its duties and obligations fell into the background, and its rights and privileges came to the front. catherine had good reason to favour the noblesse. as a foreigner and a usurper, raised to the throne by a court conspiracy, she could not awaken in the masses that semi-religious veneration which the legitimate tsars have always enjoyed, and consequently she had to seek support in the upper classes, who were less rigid and uncompromising in their conceptions of legitimacy. she confirmed, therefore, the ukaz which abolished obligatory service of the nobles, and sought to gain their voluntary service by honours and rewards. in her manifestoes she always spoke of them in the most flattering terms; and tried to convince them that the welfare of the country depended on their loyalty and devotion. though she had no intention of ceding any of her political power, she formed the nobles of each province into a corporation, with periodical assemblies, which were supposed to resemble the french provincial parliaments, and entrusted to each of these corporations a large part of the local administration. by these and similar means, aided by her masculine energy and feminine tact, she made herself very popular, and completely changed the old conceptions about the public service. formerly service had been looked on as a burden; now it came to be looked on as a privilege. thousands who had retired to their estates after the publication of the liberation edict now flocked back and sought appointments, and this tendency was greatly increased by the brilliant campaigns against the turks, which excited the patriotic feelings and gave plentiful opportunities of promotion. "not only landed proprietors," it is said in a comedy of the time,* "but all men, even shopkeepers and cobblers, aim at becoming officers, and the man who has passed his whole life without official rank seems to be not a human being." * knyazhnina, "khvastun." and catherine did more than this. she shared the idea--generally accepted throughout europe since the brilliant reign of louis xiv.--that a refined, pomp-loving, pleasure-seeking court noblesse was not only the best bulwark of monarchy, but also a necessary ornament of every highly civilised state; and as she ardently desired that her country should have the reputation of being highly civilised, she strove to create this national ornament. the love of french civilisation, which already existed among the upper classes of her subjects, here came to her aid, and her efforts in this direction were singularly successful. the court of st. petersburg became almost as brilliant, as galant, and as frivolous as the court of versailles. all who aimed at high honours adopted french fashions, spoke the french language, and affected an unqualified admiration for french classical literature. the courtiers talked of the point d'honneur, discussed the question as to what was consistent with the dignity of a noble, sought to display "that chivalrous spirit which constitutes the pride and ornament of france"; and looked back with horror on the humiliating position of their fathers and grandfathers. "peter the great," writes one of them, "beat all who surrounded him, without distinction of family or rank; but now, many of us would certainly prefer capital punishment to being beaten or flogged, even though the castigation were applied by the sacred hands of the lord's anointed." the tone which reigned in the court circle of st. petersburg spread gradually towards the lower ranks of the dvoryanstvo, and it seemed to superficial observers that a very fair imitation of the french noblesse had been produced; but in reality the copy was very unlike the model. the russian dvoryanin easily learned the language and assumed the manners of the french gentilhomme, and succeeded in changing his physical and intellectual exterior; but all those deeper and more delicate parts of human nature which are formed by the accumulated experience of past generations could not be so easily and rapidly changed. the french gentilhomme of the eighteenth century was the direct descendant of the feudal baron, with the fundamental conceptions of his ancestors deeply embedded in his nature. he had not, indeed, the old haughty bearing towards the sovereign, and his language was tinged with the fashionable democratic philosophy of the time; but he possessed a large intellectual and moral inheritance that had come down to him directly from the palmy days of feudalism--an inheritance which even the great revolution, which was then preparing, could not annihilate. the russian noble, on the contrary, had received from his ancestors entirely different traditions. his father and grandfather had been conscious of the burdens rather than the privileges of the class to which they belonged. they had considered it no disgrace to receive corporal punishment, and had been jealous of their honour, not as gentlemen or descendants of boyars, but as brigadiers, college assessors, or privy counsellors. their dignity had rested not on the grace of god, but on the will of the tsar. under these circumstances even the proudest magnate of catherine's court, though he might speak french as fluently as his mother tongue, could not be very deeply penetrated with the conception of noble blood, the sacred character of nobility, and the numerous feudal ideas interwoven with these conceptions. and in adopting the outward forms of a foreign culture the nobles did not, it seems, gain much in true dignity. "the old pride of the nobles has fallen!" exclaims one who had more genuine aristocratic feeling than his fellows.* "there are no longer any honourable families; but merely official rank and personal merits. all seek official rank, and as all cannot render direct services, distinctions are sought by every possible means--by flattering the monarch and toadying the important personages." there was considerable truth in this complaint, but the voice of this solitary aristocrat was as of one crying in the wilderness. the whole of the educated classes--men of old family and parvenus alike--were, with few exceptions, too much engrossed with place-hunting to attend to such sentimental wailing. * prince shtcherbatof. if the russian noblesse was thus in its new form but a very imperfect imitation of its french model, it was still more unlike the english aristocracy. notwithstanding the liberal phrases in which catherine habitually indulged, she never had the least intention of ceding one jot or tittle of her autocratic power, and the noblesse as a class never obtained even a shadow of political influence. there was no real independence under the new airs of dignity and hauteur. in all their acts and openly expressed opinions the courtiers were guided by the real or supposed wishes of the sovereign, and much of their political sagacity was employed in endeavouring to discover what would please her. "people never talk politics in the salons," says a contemporary witness,* "not even to praise the government. fear has produced habits of prudence, and the frondeurs of the capital express their opinions only in the confidence of intimate friendship or in a relationship still more confidential. those who cannot bear this constraint retire to moscow, which cannot be called the centre of opposition, for there is no such thing as opposition in a country with an autocratic government, but which is the capital of the discontented." and even there the discontent did not venture to show itself in the imperial presence. "in moscow," says another witness, accustomed to the obsequiousness of versailles, "you might believe yourself to be among republicans who have just thrown off the yoke of a tyrant, but as soon as the court arrives you see nothing but abject slaves."** * segur, long ambassador of france at the court of catherine. ** sabathier de cabres, "catherine ii. et la cour de russie en ." though thus excluded from direct influence in political affairs the noblesse might still have acquired a certain political significance in the state, by means of the provincial assemblies, and by the part they took in local administration; but in reality they had neither the requisite political experience nor the requisite patience, nor even the desire to pursue such a policy. the majority of the proprietors preferred the chances of promotion in the imperial service to the tranquil life of a country gentleman; and those who resided permanently on their estates showed indifference or positive antipathy to everything connected with the local administration. what was officially described as "a privilege conferred on the nobles for their fidelity, and for the generous sacrifice of their lives in their country's cause," was regarded by those who enjoyed it as a new kind of obligatory service--an obligation to supply judges and officers of rural police. if we require any additional proof that the nobles amidst all these changes were still as dependent as ever on the arbitrary will or caprice of the monarch, we have only to glance at their position in the time of paul i., the capricious, eccentric, violent son and successor of catherine. the autobiographical memoirs of the time depict in vivid colours the humiliating position of even the leading men in the state, in constant fear of exciting by act, word, or look the wrath of the sovereign. as we read these contemporary records we seem to have before us a picture of ancient rome under the most despotic and capricious of her emperors. irritated and embittered before his accession to the throne by the haughty demeanour of his mother's favourites, paul lost no opportunity of showing his contempt for aristocratic pretensions, and of humiliating those who were supposed to harbour them. "apprenez, monsieur," he said angrily on one occasion to dumouriez, who had accidentally referred to one of the "considerable" personages of the court, "apprenez qu'il n'y a pas de considerable ici, que la personne a laquelle je parle et pendant le temps que je lui parle!"* * this saying is often falsely attributed to nicholas. the anecdote is related by segur. from the time of catherine down to the accession of alexander ii. in no important change was made in the legal status of the noblesse, but a gradual change took place in its social character by the continual influx of western ideas and western culture. the exclusively french culture in vogue at the court of catherine assumed a more cosmopolitan colouring, and permeated downwards till all who had any pretensions to being civilises spoke french with tolerable fluency and possessed at least a superficial acquaintance with the literature of western europe. what chiefly distinguished them in the eye of the law from the other classes was the privilege of possessing "inhabited estates"--that is to say, estates with serfs. by the emancipation of the serfs in this valuable privilege was abolished, and about one-half of their landed property passed into the hands of the peasantry. by the administrative reforms which have since taken place, any little significance which the provincial corporations may have possessed has been annihilated. thus at the present day the nobles are on a level with the other classes with regard to the right of possessing landed property and the administration of local affairs. from this rapid sketch the reader will easily perceive that the russian noblesse has had a peculiar historical development. in germany, france, and england the nobles were early formed into a homogeneous organised body by the political conditions in which they were placed. they had to repel the encroaching tendencies of the monarchy on the one hand, and of the bourgeoisie on the other; and in this long struggle with powerful rivals they instinctively held together and developed a vigorous esprit de corps. new members penetrated into their ranks, but these intruders were so few in number that they were rapidly assimilated without modifying the general character or recognised ideals of the class, and without rudely disturbing the fiction of purity of blood. the class thus assumed more and more the nature of a caste with a peculiar intellectual and moral culture, and stoutly defended its position and privileges till the ever-increasing power of the middle classes undermined its influence. its fate in different countries has been different. in germany it clung to its feudal traditions, and still preserves its social exclusiveness. in france it was deprived of its political influence by the monarchy and crushed by the revolution. in england it moderated its pretensions, allied itself with the middle classes, created under the disguise of constitutional monarchy an aristocratic republic, and conceded inch by inch, as necessity demanded, a share of its political influence to the ally that had helped it to curb the royal power. thus the german baron, the french gentilhomme, and the english nobleman represent three distinct, well-marked types; but amidst all their diversities they have much in common. they have all preserved to a greater or less extent a haughty consciousness of innate inextinguishable superiority over the lower orders, together with a more or less carefully disguised dislike for the class which has been, and still is, an aggressive rival. the russian noblesse has not these characteristics. it was formed out of more heterogeneous materials, and these materials did not spontaneously combine to form an organic whole, but were crushed into a conglomerate mass by the weight of the autocratic power. it never became a semi-independent factor in the state. what rights and privileges it possesses it received from the monarchy, and consequently it has no deep-rooted jealousy or hatred of the imperial prerogative. on the other hand, it has never had to struggle with the other social classes, and therefore it harbours towards them no feelings of rivalry or hostility. if we hear a russian noble speak with indignation of autocracy or with acrimony of the bourgeoisie, we may be sure that these feelings have their source, not in traditional conceptions, but in principles learned from the modern schools of social and political philosophy. the class to which he belongs has undergone so many transformations that it has no hoary traditions or deep-rooted prejudices, and always willingly adapts itself to existing conditions. indeed, it may be said in general that it looks more to the future than the past, and is ever ready to accept any new ideas that wear the badge of progress. its freedom from traditions and prejudices makes it singularly susceptible of generous enthusiasm and capable of vigorous spasmodic action, but calm moral courage and tenacity of purpose are not among its prominent attributes. in a word, we find in it neither the peculiar virtues nor the peculiar vices which are engendered and fostered by an atmosphere of political liberty. however we may explain the fact, there is no doubt that the russian noblesse has little or nothing of what we call aristocratic feeling--little or nothing of that haughty, domineering, exclusive spirit which we are accustomed to associate with the word aristocracy. we find plenty of russians who are proud of their wealth, of their culture, or of their official position, but we rarely find a russian who is proud of his birth or imagines that the fact of his having a long pedigree gives him any right to political privileges or social consideration. hence there is a certain amount of truth in the oft-repeated saying that there is in reality no aristocracy in russia. certainly the noblesse as a whole cannot be called an aristocracy. if the term is to be used at all, it must be applied to a group of families which cluster around the court and form the highest ranks of the noblesse. this social aristocracy contains many old families, but its real basis is official rank and general culture rather than pedigree or blood. the feudal conceptions of noble birth, good family, and the like have been adopted by some of its members, but do not form one of its conspicuous features. though habitually practising a certain exclusiveness, it has none of those characteristics of a caste which we find in the german adel, and is utterly unable to understand such institutions as tafelfähigkeit, by which a man who has not a pedigree of a certain length is considered unworthy to sit down at a royal table. it takes rather the english aristocracy as its model, and harbours the secret hope of one day obtaining a social and political position similar to that of the nobility and gentry of england. though it has no peculiar legal privileges, its actual position in the administration and at court gives its members great facilities for advancement in the public service. on the other hand, its semi-bureaucratic character, together with the law and custom of dividing landed property among the children at the death of their parents, deprives it of stability. new men force their way into it by official distinction, whilst many of the old families are compelled by poverty to retire from its ranks. the son of a small proprietor, or even of a parish priest, may rise to the highest offices of state, whilst the descendants of the half-mythical rurik may descend to the position of peasants. it is said that not very long ago a certain prince krapotkin gained his living as a cabman in st. petersburg! it is evident, then, that this social aristocracy must not be confounded with the titled families. titles do not possess the same value in russia as in western europe. they are very common--because the titled families are numerous, and all the children bear the titles of the parents even while the parents are still alive--and they are by no means always associated with official rank, wealth, social position, or distinction of any kind. there are hundreds of princes and princesses who have not the right to appear at court, and who would not be admitted into what is called in st. petersburg la societe, or indeed into refined society in any country. the only genuine russian title is knyaz, commonly translated "prince." it is borne by the descendants of rurik, of the lithuanian prince ghedimin, and of the tartar khans and murzi officially recognised by the tsars. besides these, there are fourteen families who have adopted it by imperial command during the last two centuries. the titles of count and baron are modern importations, beginning with the time of peter the great. from peter and his successors about seventy families have received the title of count and ten that of baron. the latter are all, with two exceptions, of foreign extraction, and are mostly descended from court bankers.* * besides these, there are of course the german counts and barons of the baltic provinces, who are russian subjects. there is a very common idea that russian nobles are as a rule enormously rich. this is a mistake. the majority of them are poor. at the time of the emancipation, in , there were , landed proprietors, and of these, more than , were possessors of less than twenty-one male serfs--that is to say, were in a condition of poverty. a proprietor who was owner of serfs was not considered as by any means very rich, and yet there were only , proprietors belonging in that category. there were a few, indeed, whose possessions were enormous. count sheremetief, for instance, possessed more than , male serfs, or in other words more than , souls; and thirty years ago count orloff-davydof owned considerably more than half a million of acres. the demidof family derive colossal revenues from their mines, and the strogonofs have estates which, if put together, would be sufficient in extent to form a good-sized independent state in western europe. the very rich families, however, are not numerous. the lavish expenditure in which russian nobles often indulge indicates too frequently not large fortune, but simply foolish ostentation and reckless improvidence. perhaps, after having spoken so much about the past history of the noblesse, i ought to endeavour to cast its horoscope, or at least to say something of its probable future. though predictions are always hazardous, it is sometimes possible, by tracing the great lines of history in the past, to follow them for a little distance into the future. if it be allowable to apply this method of prediction in the present matter, i should say that the russian dvoryanstvo will assimilate with the other classes, rather than form itself into an exclusive corporation. hereditary aristocracies may be preserved--or at least their decomposition may be retarded--where they happen to exist, but it seems that they can no longer be created. in western europe there is a large amount of aristocratic sentiment, both in the nobles and in the people; but it exists in spite of, rather than in consequence of, actual social conditions. it is not a product of modern society, but an heirloom that has come down to us from feudal times, when power, wealth, and culture were in the hands of a privileged few. if there ever was in russia a period corresponding to the feudal times in western europe, it has long since been forgotten. there is very little aristocratic sentiment either in the people or in the nobles, and it is difficult to imagine any source from which it could now be derived. more than this, the nobles do not desire to make such an acquisition. in so far as they have any political aspirations, they aim at securing the political liberty of the people as a whole, and not at acquiring exclusive rights and privileges for their own class. in that section which i have called a social aristocracy there are a few individuals who desire to gain exclusive political influence for the class to which they belong, but there is very little chance of their succeeding. if their desires were ever by chance realised, we should probably have a repetition of the scene which occurred in . when in that year some of the great families raised the duchess of courland to the throne on condition of her ceding part of her power to a supreme council, the lower ranks of the noblesse compelled her to tear up the constitution which she had signed! those who dislike the autocratic power dislike the idea of an aristocratic oligarchy infinitely more. nobles and people alike seem to hold instinctively the creed of the french philosopher, who thought it better to be governed by a lion of good family than by a hundred rats of his own species. of the present condition of the noblesse i shall again have occasion to speak when i come to consider the consequences of the emancipation. chapter xxi landed proprietors of the old school russian hospitality--a country-house--its owner described--his life, past and present--winter evenings--books---connection with the outer world--the crimean war and the emancipation--a drunken, dissolute proprietor--an old general and his wife--"name days"--a legendary monster--a retired judge--a clever scribe--social leniency--cause of demoralisation. of all the foreign countries in which i have travelled, russia certainly bears off the palm in the matter of hospitality. every spring i found myself in possession of a large number of invitations from landed proprietors in different parts of the country--far more than i could possibly accept--and a great part of the summer was generally spent in wandering about from one country-house to another. i have no intention of asking the reader to accompany me in all these expeditions--for though pleasant in reality, they might be tedious in description--but i wish to introduce him to some typical examples of the landed proprietors. among them are to be found nearly all ranks and conditions of men, from the rich magnate, surrounded with the refined luxury of west-european civilisation, to the poor, ill-clad, ignorant owner of a few acres which barely supply him with the necessaries of life. let us take, first of all, a few specimens from the middle ranks. in one of the central provinces, near the bank of a sluggish, meandering stream, stands an irregular group of wooden constructions--old, unpainted, blackened by time, and surmounted by high, sloping roofs of moss-covered planks. the principal building is a long, one-storied dwelling-house, constructed at right angles to the road. at the front of the house is a spacious, ill-kept yard, and at the back an equally spacious shady garden, in which art carries on a feeble conflict with encroaching nature. at the other side of the yard, and facing the front door--or rather the front doors, for there are two--stand the stables, hay-shed, and granary, and near to that end of the house which is farthest from the road are two smaller houses, one of which is the kitchen, and the other the lyudskaya, or servants' apartments. beyond these we can perceive, through a single row of lime-trees, another group of time-blackened wooden constructions in a still more dilapidated condition. that is the farmyard. there is certainly not much symmetry in the disposition of these buildings, but there is nevertheless a certain order and meaning in the apparent chaos. all the buildings which do not require stoves are built at a considerable distance from the dwelling-house and kitchen, which are more liable to take fire; and the kitchen stands by itself, because the odour of cookery where oil is used is by no means agreeable, even for those whose olfactory nerves are not very sensitive. the plan of the house is likewise not without a certain meaning. the rigorous separation of the sexes, which formed a characteristic trait of old russian society, has long since disappeared, but its influence may still be traced in houses built on the old model. the house in question is one of these, and consequently it is composed of three sections--at the one end the male apartments, at the other the female apartments, and in the middle the neutral territory, comprising the dining-room and the salon. this arrangement has its conveniences, and explains the fact that the house has two front doors. at the back is a third door, which opens from the neutral territory into a spacious verandah overlooking the garden. here lives, and has lived for many years, ivan ivanovitch k----, a gentleman of the old school, and a very worthy man of his kind. if we look at him as he sits in his comfortable armchair, with his capacious dressing-gown hanging loosely about him, we shall be able to read at a glance something of his character. nature endowed him with large bones and broad shoulders, and evidently intended him to be a man of great muscular power, but he has contrived to frustrate this benevolent intention, and has now more fat than muscle. his close-cropped head is round as a bullet, and his features are massive and heavy, but the heaviness is relieved by an expression of calm contentment and imperturbable good-nature, which occasionally blossoms into a broad grin. his face is one of those on which no amount of histrionic talent could produce a look of care and anxiety, and for this it is not to blame, for such an expression has never been demanded of it. like other mortals, he sometimes experiences little annoyances, and on such occasions his small grey eyes sparkle and his face becomes suffused with a crimson glow that suggests apoplexy; but ill-fortune has never been able to get sufficiently firm hold of him to make him understand what such words as care and anxiety mean. of struggle, disappointment, hope, and all the other feelings which give to human life a dramatic interest, he knows little by hearsay and nothing by experience. he has, in fact, always lived outside of that struggle for existence which modern philosophers declare to be the law of nature. somewhere about seventy years ago ivan ivan'itch was born in the house where he still lives. his first lessons he received from the parish priest, and afterwards he was taught by a deacon's son, who had studied in the ecclesiastical seminary to so little purpose that he was unable to pass the final examination. by both of these teachers he was treated with extreme leniency, and was allowed to learn as little as he chose. his father wished him to study hard, but his mother was afraid that study might injure his health, and accordingly gave him several holidays every week. under these circumstances his progress was naturally not very rapid, and he was still very slightly acquainted with the elementary rules of arithmetic, when his father one day declared that he was already eighteen years of age, and must at once enter the service. but what kind of service? ivan had no natural inclination for any kind of activity. the project of entering him as a junker in a cavalry regiment, the colonel of which was an old friend of the family, did not at all please him. he had no love for military service, and positively disliked the prospect of an examination. whilst seeming, therefore, to bow implicitly to the paternal authority, he induced his mother to oppose the scheme. the dilemma in which ivan found himself was this: in deference to his father he wished to be in the service and gain that official rank which every russian noble desires to possess, and at the same time, in deference to his mother and his own tastes, he wished to remain at home and continue his indolent mode of life. the marshal of the noblesse, who happened to call one day, helped him out of the difficulty by offering to inscribe him as secretary in the dvoryanskaya opeka, a bureau which acts as curator for the estates of minors. all the duties of this office could be fulfilled by a paid secretary, and the nominal occupant would be periodically promoted as if he were an active official. this was precisely what ivan required. he accepted eagerly the proposal, and obtained, in the course of seven years, without any effort on his part, the rank of "collegiate secretary," corresponding to the "capitaine-en-second" of the military hierarchy. to mount higher he would have had to seek some place where he could not have fulfilled his duty by proxy, so he determined to rest on his laurels, and sent in his resignation. immediately after the termination of his official life his married life began. before his resignation had been accepted he suddenly found himself one morning on the high road to matrimony. here again there was no effort on his part. the course of true love, which is said never to run smooth for ordinary mortals, ran smooth for him. he never had even the trouble of proposing. the whole affair was arranged by his parents, who chose as bride for their son the only daughter of their nearest neighbour. the young lady was only about sixteen years of age, and was not remarkable for beauty, talent, or any other peculiarity, but she had one very important qualification--she was the daughter of a man who had an estate contiguous to their own, and who might give as a dowry a certain bit of land which they had long desired to add to their own property. the negotiations, being of a delicate nature, were entrusted to an old lady who had a great reputation for diplomatic skill in such matters, and she accomplished her mission with such success that in the course of a few weeks the preliminaries were arranged and the day fixed for the wedding. thus ivan ivan'itch won his bride as easily as he had won his tchin of "collegiate secretary." though the bridegroom had received rather than taken to himself a wife, and did not imagine for a moment that he was in love, he had no reason to regret the choice that was made for him. maria petrovna was exactly suited by character and education to be the wife of a man like ivan ivan'itch. she had grown up at home in the society of nurses and servant-maids, and had never learned anything more than could be obtained from the parish priest and from "ma'mselle," a personage occupying a position midway between a servant-maid and a governess. the first events of her life were the announcement that she was to be married and the preparations for the wedding. she still remembers the delight which the purchase of her trousseau afforded her, and keeps in her memory a full catalogue of the articles bought. the first years of her married life were not very happy, for she was treated by her mother-in-law as a naughty child who required to be frequently snubbed and lectured; but she bore the discipline with exemplary patience, and in due time became her own mistress and autocratic ruler in all domestic affairs. from that time she has lived an active, uneventful life. between her and her husband there is as much mutual attachment as can reasonably be expected in phlegmatic natures after half a century of matrimony. she has always devoted her energies to satisfying his simple material wants--of intellectual wants he has none--and securing his comfort in every possible way. under this fostering care he "effeminated himself" (obabilsya), as he is wont to say. his love of shooting died out, he cared less and less to visit his neighbours, and each successive year he spent more and more time in his comfortable arm-chair. the daily life of this worthy couple is singularly regular and monotonous, varying only with the changing seasons. in summer ivan ivan'itch gets up about seven o'clock, and puts on, with the assistance of his valet de chambre, a simple costume, consisting chiefly of a faded, plentifully stained dressing-gown. having nothing particular to do, he sits down at the open window and looks into the yard. as the servants pass he stops and questions them, and then gives them orders, or scolds them, as circumstances demand. towards nine o'clock tea is announced, and he goes into the dining-room--a long, narrow apartment with bare wooden floor and no furniture but a table and chairs, all in a more or less rickety condition. here he finds his wife with the tea-urn before her. in a few minutes the grandchildren come in, kiss their grandpapa's hand, and take their places round the table. as this morning meal consists merely of bread and tea, it does not last long; and all disperse to their several occupations. the head of the house begins the labours of the day by resuming his seat at the open window. when he has smoked some cigarettes and indulged in a proportionate amount of silent contemplation, he goes out with the intention of visiting the stables and farmyard, but generally before he has crossed the court he finds the heat unbearable, and returns to his former position by the open window. here he sits tranquilly till the sun has so far moved round that the verandah at the back of the house is completely in the shade, when he has his arm-chair removed thither, and sits there till dinner-time. maria petrovna spends her morning in a more active way. as soon as the breakfast table has been cleared she goes to the larder, takes stock of the provisions, arranges the menu du jour, and gives to the cook the necessary materials, with detailed instructions as to how they are to be prepared. the rest of the morning she devotes to her other household duties. towards one o'clock dinner is announced, and ivan ivan'itch prepares his appetite by swallowing at a gulp a wineglassful of home-made bitters. dinner is the great event of the day. the food is abundant and of good quality, but mushrooms, onions, and fat play a rather too important part in the repast, and the whole is prepared with very little attention to the recognised principles of culinary hygiene. many of the dishes, indeed, would make a british valetudinarian stand aghast, but they seem to produce no bad effect on those russian organisms which have never been weakened by town life, nervous excitement, or intellectual exertion. no sooner has the last dish been removed than a deathlike stillness falls upon the house: it is the time of the after-dinner siesta. the young folks go into the garden, and all the other members of the household give way to the drowsiness naturally engendered by a heavy meal on a hot summer day. ivan ivan'itch retires to his own room, from which the flies have been carefully expelled. maria petrovna dozes in an arm-chair in the sitting-room, with a pocket-handkerchief spread over her face. the servants snore in the corridors, the garret, or the hay-shed; and even the old watch-dog in the corner of the yard stretches himself out at full length on the shady side of his kennel. in about two hours the house gradually re-awakens. doors begin to creak; the names of various servants are bawled out in all tones, from bass to falsetto; and footsteps are heard in the yard. soon a man-servant issues from the kitchen bearing an enormous tea-urn, which puffs like a little steam-engine. the family assembles for tea. in russia, as elsewhere, sleep after a heavy meal produces thirst, so that the tea and other beverages are very acceptable. then some little delicacies are served--such as fruit and wild berries, or cucumbers with honey, or something else of the kind, and the family again disperses. ivan ivan'itch takes a turn in the fields on his begovuiya droshki--an extremely light vehicle composed of two pairs of wheels joined together by a single board, on which the driver sits stride-legged; and maria petrovna probably receives a visit from the popadya (the priest's wife), who is the chief gossipmonger of the neighbourhood. there is not much scandal in the district, but what little there is the popadya carefully collects, and distributes among her acquaintances with undiscriminating generosity. in the evening it often happens that a little group of peasants come into the court, and ask to see the "master." the master goes to the door, and generally finds that they have some favour to request. in reply to his question, "well, children, what do you want?" they tell their story in a confused, rambling way, several of them speaking at a time, and he has to question and cross-question them before he comes to understand clearly what they desire. if he tells them he cannot grant it, they probably do not accept a first refusal, but endeavour by means of supplication to make him reconsider his decision. stepping forward a little, and bowing low, one of the group begins in a half-respectful, half-familiar, caressing tone: "little father, ivan ivan'itch, be gracious; you are our father, and we are your children"--and so on. ivan ivan'itch good-naturedly listens, and again explains that he cannot grant what they ask; but they have still hopes of gaining their point by entreaty, and continue their supplications till at last his patience is exhausted and he says to them in a paternal tone, "now, enough! enough! you are blockheads--blockheads all round! there's no use talking; it can't be done." and with these words he enters the house, so as to prevent all further discussion. a regular part of the evening's occupation is the interview with the steward. the work that has just been done, and the programme for the morrow, are always discussed at great length; and much time is spent in speculating as to the weather during the next few days. on this latter point the calendar is always carefully consulted, and great confidence is placed in its predictions, though past experience has often shown that they are not to be implicitly trusted. the conversation drags on till supper is announced, and immediately after that meal, which is an abridged repetition of dinner, all retire for the night. thus pass the days and weeks and months in the house of ivan ivan'itch, and rarely is there any deviation from the ordinary programme. the climate necessitates, of course, some slight modifications. when it is cold, the doors and windows have to be kept shut, and after heavy rains those who do not like to wade in mud have to remain in the house or garden. in the long winter evenings the family assembles in the sitting-room, and all kill time as best they can. ivan ivan'itch smokes and meditates or listens to the barrel-organ played by one of the children. maria petrovna knits a stocking. the old aunt, who commonly spends the winter with them, plays patience, and sometimes draws from the game conclusions as to the future. her favourite predictions are that a stranger will arrive, or that a marriage will take place, and she can determine the sex of the stranger and the colour of the bridegroom's hair; but beyond this her art does not go, and she cannot satisfy the young ladies' curiosity as to further details. books and newspapers are rarely seen in the sitting-room, but for those who wish to read there is a book-case full of miscellaneous literature, which gives some idea of the literary tastes of the family during several generations. the oldest volumes were bought by ivan ivan'itch's grandfather--a man who, according to the family traditions, enjoyed the confidence of the great catherine. though wholly overlooked by recent historians, he was evidently a man who had some pretensions to culture. he had his portrait painted by a foreign artist of considerable talent--it still hangs in the sitting-room--and he bought several pieces of sevres ware, the last of which stands on a commode in the corner and contrasts strangely with the rude home-made furniture and squalid appearance of the apartment. among the books which bear his name are the tragedies of sumarokof, who imagined himself to be "the russian voltaire"; the amusing comedies of von-wisin, some of which still keep the stage; the loud-sounding odes of the courtly derzhavin; two or three books containing the mystic wisdom of freemasonry as interpreted by schwarz and novikoff; russian translations of richardson's "pamela," "sir charles grandison," and "clarissa harlowe"; rousseau's "nouvelle heloise," in russian garb; and three or four volumes of voltaire in the original. among the works collected at a somewhat later period are translations of ann radcliffe, of scott's early novels, and of ducray dumenil, whose stories, "lolotte et fanfan" and "victor," once enjoyed a great reputation. at this point the literary tastes of the family appear to have died out, for the succeeding literature is represented exclusively by kryloff's fables, a farmer's manual, a handbook of family medicine, and a series of calendars. there are, however, some signs of a revival, for on the lowest shelf stand recent editions of pushkin, lermontof, and gogol, and a few works by living authors. sometimes the monotony of the winter is broken by visiting neighbours and receiving visitors in return, or in a more decided way by a visit of a few days to the capital of the province. in the latter case maria petrovna spends nearly all her time in shopping, and brings home a large collection of miscellaneous articles. the inspection of these by the assembled family forms an important domestic event, which completely throws into the shade the occasional visits of peddlers and colporteurs. then there are the festivities at christmas and easter, and occasionally little incidents of less agreeable kind. it may be that there is a heavy fall of snow, so that it is necessary to cut roads to the kitchen and stables; or wolves enter the courtyard at night and have a fight with the watch-dogs; or the news is brought that a peasant who had been drinking in a neighbouring village has been found frozen to death on the road. altogether the family live a very isolated life, but they have one bond of connection with the great outer world. two of the sons are officers in the army and both of them write home occasionally to their mother and sisters. to these two youths is devoted all the little stock of sentimentality which maria petrovna possesses. she can talk of them by the hour to any one who will listen to her, and has related to the popadya a hundred times every trivial incident of their lives. though they have never given her much cause for anxiety, and they are now men of middle age, she lives in constant fear that some evil may befall them. what she most fears is that they may be sent on a campaign or may fall in love with actresses. war and actresses are, in fact, the two bug-bears of her existence, and whenever she has a disquieting dream she asks the priest to offer up a moleben for the safety of her absent ones. sometimes she ventures to express her anxiety to her husband, and recommends him to write to them; but he considers writing a letter a very serious bit of work, and always replies evasively, "well, well, we must think about it." during the crimean war ivan ivan'itch half awoke from his habitual lethargy, and read occasionally the meagre official reports published by the government. he was a little surprised that no great victories were reported, and that the army did not at once advance on constantinople. as to causes he never speculated. some of his neighbours told him that the army was disorganised, and the whole system of nicholas had been proved to be utterly worthless. that might all be very true, but he did not understand military and political matters. no doubt it would all come right in the end. all did come right, after a fashion, and he again gave up reading newspapers; but ere long he was startled by reports much more alarming than any rumours of war. people began to talk about the peasant question, and to say openly that the serfs must soon be emancipated. for once in his life ivan ivan'itch asked explanations. finding one of his neighbours, who had always been a respectable, sensible man, and a severe disciplinarian, talking in this way, he took him aside and asked what it all meant. the neighbour explained that the old order of things had shown itself bankrupt and was doomed, that a new epoch was opening, that everything was to be reformed, and that the emperor, in accordance with a secret clause of the treaty with the allies, was about to grant a constitution! ivan ivan'itch listened for a little in silence, and then, with a gesture of impatience, interrupted the speaker: "polno duratchitsya! enough of fun and tomfoolery. vassili petrovitch, tell me seriously what you mean." when vassili petrovitch vowed that he spoke in all seriousness, his friend gazed at him with a look of intense compassion, and remarked, as he turned away, "so you, too, have gone out of your mind!" the utterances of vassili petrovitch, which his lethargic, sober-minded friend regarded as indicating temporary insanity in the speaker, represented fairly the mental condition of very many russian nobles at that time, and were not without a certain foundation. the idea about a secret clause in the treaty of paris was purely imaginary, but it was quite true that the country was entering on an epoch of great reforms, among which the emancipation question occupied the chief place. of this even the sceptical ivan ivan'itch was soon convinced. the emperor formally declared to the noblesse of the province of moscow that the actual state of things could not continue forever, and called on the landed proprietors to consider by what means the condition of their serfs might be ameliorated. provincial committees were formed for the purpose of preparing definite projects, and gradually it became apparent that the emancipation of the serfs was really at hand. ivan ivan'itch was alarmed at the prospect of losing his authority over his serfs. though he had never been a cruel taskmaster, he had not spared the rod when he considered it necessary, and he believed birch twigs to be a necessary instrument in the russian system of agriculture. for some time he drew consolation from the thought that peasants were not birds of the air, that they must under all circumstances require food and clothing, and that they would be ready to serve him as agricultural labourers; but when he learned that they were to receive a large part of the estate for their own use, his hopes fell, and he greatly feared that he would be inevitably ruined. these dark forebodings have not been by any means realised. his serfs were emancipated and received about a half of the estate, but in return for the land ceded they paid him annually a considerable sum, and they were always ready to cultivate his fields for a fair remuneration. the yearly outlay was considerably greater, but the price of grain rose, and this counterbalanced the additional yearly expenditure. the administration of the estate has become much less patriarchal; much that was formerly left to custom and tacit understanding is now regulated by express agreement on purely commercial principles; a great deal more money is paid out and a great deal more received; there is much less authority in the hands of the master, and his responsibilities are proportionately diminished; but in spite of all these changes, ivan ivan'itch would have great difficulty in deciding whether he is a richer or a poorer man. he has fewer horses and fewer servants, but he has still more than he requires, and his mode of life has undergone no perceptible alteration. maria petrovna complains that she is no longer supplied with eggs, chickens, and homespun linen by the peasants, and that everything is three times as dear as it used to be; but somehow the larder is still full, and abundance reigns in the house as of old. ivan ivan'itch certainly does not possess transcendent qualities of any kind. it would be impossible to make a hero out of him, even though his own son should be his biographer. muscular christians may reasonably despise him, an active, energetic man may fairly condemn him for his indolence and apathy. but, on the other hand, he has no very bad qualities. his vices are of the passive, negative kind. he is a respectable if not a distinguished member of society, and appears a very worthy man when compared with many of his neighbours who have been brought up in similar conditions. take, for instance, his younger brother dimitri, who lives a short way off. dimitri ivanovitch, like his brother ivan, had been endowed by nature with a very decided repugnance to prolonged intellectual exertion, but as he was a man of good parts he did not fear a junker's examination--especially when he could count on the colonel's protection--and accordingly entered the army. in his regiment were a number of jovial young officers like himself, always ready to relieve the monotony of garrison life by boisterous dissipation, and among these he easily acquired the reputation of being a thoroughly good fellow. in drinking bouts he could hold his own with the best of them, and in all mad pranks invariably played the chief part. by this means he endeared himself to his comrades, and for a time all went well. the colonel had himself sown wild oats plentifully in his youth, and was quite disposed to overlook, as far as possible, the bacchanalian peccadilloes of his subordinates. but before many years had passed, the regiment suddenly changed its character. certain rumours had reached headquarters, and the emperor nicholas appointed as colonel a stern disciplinarian of german origin, who aimed at making the regiment a kind of machine that should work with the accuracy of a chronometer. this change did not at all suit the tastes of dimitri ivan'itch. he chafed under the new restraints, and as soon as he had gained the rank of lieutenant retired from the service to enjoy the freedom of country life. shortly afterwards his father died, and he thereby became owner of an estate, with two hundred serfs. he did not, like his elder brother, marry, and "effeminate himself," but he did worse. in his little independent kingdom--for such was practically a russian estate in the good old times--he was lord of all he surveyed, and gave full scope to his boisterous humour, his passion for sport, and his love of drinking and dissipation. many of the mad pranks in which he indulged will long be preserved by popular tradition, but they cannot well be related here. dimitri ivan'itch is now a man long past middle age, and still continues his wild, dissipated life. his house resembles an ill-kept, disreputable tavern. the floor is filthy, the furniture chipped and broken, the servants indolent, slovenly, and in rags. dogs of all breeds and sizes roam about the rooms and corridors. the master, when not asleep, is always in a more or less complete state of intoxication. generally he has one or two guests staying with him--men of the same type as himself--and days and nights are spent in drinking and card-playing. when he cannot have his usual boon-companions he sends for one or two small proprietors who live near--men who are legally nobles, but who are so poor that they differ little from peasants. formerly, when ordinary resources failed, he occasionally had recourse to the violent expedient of ordering his servants to stop the first passing travellers, whoever they might be, and bring them in by persuasion or force, as circumstances might demand. if the travellers refused to accept such rough, undesired hospitality, a wheel would be taken off their tarantass, or some indispensable part of the harness would be secreted, and they might consider themselves fortunate if they succeeded in getting away next morning.* * this custom has fortunately gone out of fashion even in outlying districts, but an incident of the kind happened to a friend of mine as late as . he was detained against his will for two whole days by a man whom he had never seen before, and at last effected his escape by bribing the servants of his tyrannical host. in the time of serfage the domestic serfs had much to bear from their capricious, violent master. they lived in an atmosphere of abusive language, and were subjected not unfrequently to corporal punishment. worse than this, their master was constantly threatening to "shave their forehead"--that is to say, to give them as recruits--and occasionally he put his threat into execution, in spite of the wailings and entreaties of the culprit and his relations. and yet, strange to say, nearly all of them remained with him as free servants after the emancipation. in justice to the russian landed proprietors, i must say that the class represented by dimitri ivan'itch has now almost disappeared. it was the natural result of serfage and social stagnation--of a state of society in which there were few legal and moral restraints, and few inducements to honourable activity. among the other landed proprietors of the district, one of the best known is nicolai petrovitch b----, an old military man with the rank of general. like ivan ivan'itch, he belongs to the old school; but the two men must be contrasted rather than compared. the difference in their lives and characters is reflected in their outward appearance. ivan ivan'itch, as we know, is portly in form and heavy in all his movements, and loves to loll in his arm-chair or to loaf about the house in a capacious dressing-gown. the general, on the contrary, is thin, wiry, and muscular, wears habitually a close-buttoned military tunic, and always has a stern expression, the force of which is considerably augmented by a bristly moustache resembling a shoe-brush. as he paces up and down the room, knitting his brows and gazing at the floor, he looks as if he were forming combinations of the first magnitude; but those who know him well are aware that this is an optical delusion, of which he is himself to some extent a victim. he is quite innocent of deep thought and concentrated intellectual effort. though he frowns so fiercely he is by no means of a naturally ferocious temperament. had he passed all his life in the country he would probably have been as good-natured and phlegmatic as ivan ivan'itch himself, but, unlike that worshipper of tranquillity, he had aspired to rise in the service, and had adopted the stern, formal bearing which the emperor nicholas considered indispensable in an officer. the manner which he had at first put on as part of his uniform became by the force of habit almost a part of his nature, and at the age of thirty he was a stern disciplinarian and uncompromising formalist, who confined his attention exclusively to drill and other military duties. thus he rose steadily by his own merit, and reached the goal of his early ambition--the rank of general. as soon as this point was reached he determined to leave the service and retire to his property. many considerations urged him to take this step. he enjoyed the title of excellency which he had long coveted, and when he put on his full uniform his breast was bespangled with medals and decorations. since the death of his father the revenues of his estate had been steadily decreasing, and report said that the best wood in his forest was rapidly disappearing. his wife had no love for the country, and would have preferred to settle in moscow or st. petersburg, but they found that with their small income they could not live in a large town in a style suitable to their rank. the general determined to introduce order into his estate, and become a practical farmer; but a little experience convinced him that his new functions were much more difficult than the commanding of a regiment. he has long since given over the practical management of the property to a steward, and he contents himself with exercising what he imagines to be an efficient control. though he wishes to do much, he finds small scope for his activity, and spends his days in pretty much the same way as ivan ivan'itch, with this difference, that he plays cards whenever he gets an opportunity, and reads regularly the moscow gazette and russki invalid, the official military paper. what specially interests him is the list of promotions, retirements, and imperial rewards for merit and seniority. when he sees the announcement that some old comrade has been made an officer of his majesty's suite or has received a grand cordon, he frowns a little more than usual, and is tempted to regret that he retired from the service. had he waited patiently, perhaps a bit of good fortune might have fallen likewise to his lot. this idea takes possession of him, and during the remainder of the day he is taciturn and morose. his wife notices the change, and knows the reason of it, but has too much good sense and tact to make any allusion to the subject. anna alexandrovna--as the good lady is called--is an elderly dame who does not at all resemble the wife of ivan ivan'itch. she was long accustomed to a numerous military society, with dinner-parties, dancing, promenades, card-playing, and all the other amusements of garrison life, and she never contracted a taste for domestic concerns. her knowledge of culinary affairs is extremely vague, and she has no idea of how to make preserves, nalivka, and other home-made delicacies, though maria petrovna, who is universally acknowledged to be a great adept in such matters, has proposed a hundred times to give her some choice recipes. in short, domestic affairs are a burden to her, and she entrusts them as far as possible to the housekeeper. altogether she finds country life very tiresome, but, possessing that placid, philosophical temperament which seems to have some casual connection with corpulence, she submits without murmuring, and tries to lighten a little the unavoidable monotony by paying visits and receiving visitors. the neighbours within a radius of twenty miles are, with few exceptions, more or less of the ivan ivan'itch and maria petrovna type--decidedly rustic in their manners and conceptions; but their company is better than absolute solitude, and they have at least the good quality of being always able and willing to play cards for any number of hours. besides this, anna alexandrovna has the satisfaction of feeling that amongst them she is almost a great personage, and unquestionably an authority in all matters of taste and fashion; and she feels specially well disposed towards those of them who frequently address her as "your excellency." the chief festivities take place on the "name-days" of the general and his spouse--that is to say, the days sacred to st. nicholas and st. anna. on these occasions all the neighbours come to offer their congratulations, and remain to dinner as a matter of course. after dinner the older visitors sit down to cards, and the young people extemporise a dance. the fete is specially successful when the eldest son comes home to take part in it, and brings a brother officer with him. he is now a general like his father.* in days gone by one of his comrades was expected to offer his hand to olga nekola'vna, the second daughter, a delicate young lady who had been educated in one of the great instituts--gigantic boarding-schools, founded and kept up by the government, for the daughters of those who are supposed to have deserved well of their country. unfortunately the expected offer was never made, and she and her sister live at home as old maids, bewailing the absence of "civilised" society, and killing time in a harmless, elegant way by means of music, needlework, and light literature. * generals are much more common in russia than in other countries. a few years ago there was an old lady in moscow who had a family of ten sons, all of whom were generals! the rank may be obtained in the civil as well as the military service. at these "name-day" gatherings one used to meet still more interesting specimens of the old school. one of them i remember particularly. he was a tall, corpulent old man, in a threadbare frock-coat, which wrinkled up about his waist. his shaggy eyebrows almost covered his small, dull eyes, his heavy moustache partially concealed a large mouth strongly indicating sensuous tendencies. his hair was cut so short that it was difficult to say what its colour would be if it were allowed to grow. he always arrived in his tarantass just in time for the zakuska--the appetising collation that is served shortly before dinner--grunted out a few congratulations to the host and hostess and monosyllabic greetings to his acquaintances, ate a copious meal, and immediately afterwards placed himself at a card-table, where he sat in silence as long as he could get any one to play with him. people did not like, however, to play with andrei vassil'itch, for his society was not agreeable, and he always contrived to go home with a well-filled purse. andrei vassil'itch was a noted man in the neighbourhood. he was the centre of a whole cycle of legends, and i have often heard that his name was used with effect by nurses to frighten naughty children. i never missed an opportunity of meeting him, for i was curious to see and study a legendary monster in the flesh. how far the numerous stories told about him were true i cannot pretend to say, but they were certainly not without foundation. in his youth he had served for some time in the army, and was celebrated, even in an age when martinets had always a good chance of promotion, for his brutality to his subordinates. his career was cut short, however, when he had only the rank of captain. having compromised himself in some way, he found it advisable to send in his resignation and retire to his estate. here he organised his house on mahometan rather than christian principles, and ruled his servants and peasants as he had been accustomed to rule his soldiers--using corporal punishment in merciless fashion. his wife did not venture to protest against the mahometan arrangements, and any peasant who stood in the way of their realisation was at once given as a recruit, or transported to siberia, in accordance with his master's demand.* at last his tyranny and extortion drove his serfs to revolt. one night his house was surrounded and set on fire, but he contrived to escape the fate that was prepared for him, and caused all who had taken part in the revolt to be mercilessly punished. this was a severe lesson, but it had no effect upon him. taking precautions against a similar surprise, he continued to tyrannise and extort as before, until in the serfs were emancipated, and his authority came to an end. * when a proprietor considered any of his serfs unruly he could, according to law, have them transported to siberia without trial, on condition of paying the expenses of transport. arrived at their destination, they received land, and lived as free colonists, with the single restriction that they were not allowed to leave the locality where they settled. a very different sort of man was pavel trophim'itch, who likewise came regularly to pay his respects and present his congratulations to the general and "gheneralsha."* it was pleasant to turn from the hard, wrinkled, morose features of the legendary monster to the soft, smooth, jovial face of this man, who had been accustomed to look at the bright side of things, till his face had caught something of their brightness. "a good, jovial, honest face!" a stranger might exclaim as he looked at him. knowing something of his character and history, i could not endorse such an opinion. jovial he certainly was, for few men were more capable of making and enjoying mirth. good he might be also called, if the word were taken in the sense of good-natured, for he never took offence, and was always ready to do a kindly action if it did not cost him any trouble. but as to his honesty, that required some qualification. wholly untarnished his reputation certainly could not be, for he had been a judge in the district court before the time of the judicial reforms; and, not being a cato, he had succumbed to the usual temptations. he had never studied law, and made no pretensions to the possession of great legal knowledge. to all who would listen to him he declared openly that he knew much more about pointers and setters than about legal formalities. but his estate was very small, and he could not afford to give up his appointment. * the female form of the word general. of these unreformed courts, which are happily among the things of the past, i shall have occasion to speak in the sequel. for the present i wish merely to say that they were thoroughly corrupt, and i hasten to add that pavel trophim'itch was by no means a judge of the worst kind. he had been known to protect widows and orphans against those who wished to despoil them, and no amount of money would induce him to give an unjust decision against a friend who had privately explained the case to him; but when he knew nothing of the case or of the parties he readily signed the decision prepared by the secretary, and quietly pocketed the proceeds, without feeling any very disagreeable twinges of conscience. all judges, he knew, did likewise, and he had no pretension to being better than his fellows. when pavel trophim'itch played cards at the general's house or elsewhere, a small, awkward, clean-shaven man, with dark eyes and a tartar cast of countenance, might generally be seen sitting at the same table. his name was alexei petrovitch t----. whether he really had any tartar blood in him it is impossible to say, but certainly his ancestors for one or two generations were all good orthodox christians. his father had been a poor military surgeon in a marching regiment, and he himself had become at an early age a scribe in one of the bureaux of the district town. he was then very poor, and had great difficulty in supporting life on the miserable pittance which he received as a salary; but he was a sharp, clever youth, and soon discovered that even a scribe had a great many opportunities of extorting money from the ignorant public. these opportunities alexei petrovitch used with great ability, and became known as one of the most accomplished bribe-takers (vzyatotchniki) in the district. his position, however, was so very subordinate that he would never have become rich had he not fallen upon a very ingenious expedient which completely succeeded. hearing that a small proprietor, who had an only daughter, had come to live in the town for a few weeks, he took a room in the inn where the newcomers lived, and when he had made their acquaintance he fell dangerously ill. feeling his last hours approaching, he sent for a priest, confided to him that he had amassed a large fortune, and requested that a will should be drawn up. in the will he bequeathed large sums to all his relations, and a considerable sum to the parish church. the whole affair was to be kept a secret till after his death, but his neighbour--the old gentleman with the daughter--was called in to act as a witness. when all this had been done he did not die, but rapidly recovered, and now induced the old gentleman to whom he had confided his secret to grant him his daughter's hand. the daughter had no objections to marry a man possessed of such wealth, and the marriage was duly celebrated. shortly after this the father died--without discovering, it is to be hoped, the hoax that had been perpetrated--and alexei petrovitch became virtual possessor of a very comfortable little estate. with the change in his fortunes he completely changed his principles, or at least his practice. in all his dealings he was strictly honest. he lent money, it is true, at from ten to fifteen per cent., but that was considered in these parts not a very exorbitant rate of interest, nor was he unnecessarily hard upon his debtors. it may seem strange that an honourable man like the general should receive in his house such a motley company, comprising men of decidedly tarnished reputation; but in this respect he was not at all peculiar. one constantly meets in russian society persons who are known to have been guilty of flagrant dishonesty, and we find that men who are themselves honourable enough associate with them on friendly terms. this social leniency, moral laxity, or whatever else it may be called, is the result of various causes. several concurrent influences have tended to lower the moral standard of the noblesse. formerly, when the noble lived on his estate, he could play with impunity the petty tyrant, and could freely indulge his legitimate and illegitimate caprices without any legal or moral restraint. i do not at all mean to assert that all proprietors abused their authority, but i venture to say that no class of men can long possess such enormous arbitrary power over those around them without being thereby more or less demoralised. when the noble entered the service he had not the same immunity from restraint--on the contrary, his position resembled rather that of the serf--but he breathed an atmosphere of peculation and jobbery, little conducive to moral purity and uprightness. if an official had refused to associate with those who were tainted with the prevailing vices, he would have found himself completely isolated, and would have been ridiculed as a modern don quixote. add to this that all classes of the russian people have a certain kindly, apathetic good-nature which makes them very charitable towards their neighbours, and that they do not always distinguish between forgiving private injury and excusing public delinquencies. if we bear all this in mind, we may readily understand that in the time of serfage and maladministration a man could be guilty of very reprehensible practises without incurring social excommunication. during the period of moral awakening, after the crimean war and the death of nicholas i., society revelled in virtuous indignation against the prevailing abuses, and placed on the pillory the most prominent delinquents; but the intensity of the moral feeling has declined, and something of the old apathy has returned. this might have been predicted by any one well acquainted with the character and past history of the russian people. russia advances on the road of progress, not in that smooth, gradual, prosaic way to which we are accustomed, but by a series of unconnected, frantic efforts, each of which is naturally followed by a period of temporary exhaustion. chapter xxii proprietors of the modern school a russian petit maitre--his house and surroundings--abortive attempts to improve agriculture and the condition of the serfs--a comparison--a "liberal" tchinovnik--his idea of progress--a justice of the peace--his opinion of russian literature, tchinovniks, and petits maitres--his supposed and real character--an extreme radical--disorders in the universities--administrative procedure--russia's capacity for accomplishing political and social evolutions--a court dignitary in his country house. hitherto i have presented to the reader old-fashioned types which were common enough thirty years ago, when i first resided in russia, but which are rapidly disappearing. let me now present a few of the modern school. in the same district as ivan ivan'itch and the general lives victor alexandr'itch l----. as we approach his house we can at once perceive that he differs from the majority of his neighbours. the gate is painted and moves easily on its hinges, the fence is in good repair, the short avenue leading up to the front door is well kept, and in the garden we can perceive at a glance that more attention is paid to flowers than to vegetables. the house is of wood, and not large, but it has some architectural pretensions in the form of a great, pseudo-doric wooden portico that covers three-fourths of the façade. in the interior we remark everywhere the influence of western civilisation. victor alexandr'itch is by no means richer than ivan ivan'itch, but his rooms are much more luxuriously furnished. the furniture is of a lighter model, more comfortable, and in a much better state of preservation. instead of the bare, scantily furnished sitting-room, with the old-fashioned barrel-organ which played only six airs, we find an elegant drawing-room, with a piano by one of the most approved makers, and numerous articles of foreign manufacture, comprising a small buhl table and two bits of genuine old wedgwood. the servants are clean, and dressed in european costume. the master, too, is very different in appearance. he pays great attention to his toilette, wearing a dressing-gown only in the early morning, and a fashionable lounging coat during the rest of the day. the turkish pipes which his grandfather loved he holds in abhorrence, and habitually smokes cigarettes. with his wife and daughters he always speaks french, and calls them by french or english names. but the part of the house which most strikingly illustrates the difference between old and new is "le cabinet de monsieur." in the cabinet of ivan ivan'itch the furniture consists of a broad sofa which serves as a bed, a few deal chairs, and a clumsy deal table, on which are generally to be found a bundle of greasy papers, an old chipped ink-bottle, a pen, and a calendar. the cabinet of victor alexandr'itch has an entirely different appearance. it is small, but at once comfortable and elegant. the principal objects which it contains are a library-table, with ink-stand, presse-papier, paper-knives, and other articles in keeping, and in the opposite corner a large bookcase. the collection of books is remarkable, not from the number of volumes or the presence of rare editions, but from the variety of the subjects. history, art, fiction, the drama, political economy, and agriculture are represented in about equal proportions. some of the works are in russian, others in german, a large number in french, and a few in italian. the collection illustrates the former life and present occupations of the owner. the father of victor alexandr'itch was a landed proprietor who had made a successful career in the civil service, and desired that his son should follow the same profession. for this purpose victor was first carefully trained at home, and then sent to the university of moscow, where he spent four years as a student of law. from the university he passed to the ministry of the interior in st. petersburg, but he found the monotonous routine of official life not at all suited to his taste, and very soon sent in his resignation. the death of his father had made him proprietor of an estate, and thither he retired, hoping to find there plenty of occupation more congenial than the writing of official papers. at the university of moscow he had attended lectures on history and philosophy, and had got through a large amount of desultory reading. the chief result of his studies was the acquisition of many ill-digested general principles, and certain vague, generous, humanitarian aspirations. with this intellectual capital he hoped to lead a useful life in the country. when he had repaired and furnished the house he set himself to improve the estate. in the course of his promiscuous reading he had stumbled on some descriptions of english and tuscan agriculture, and had there learned what wonders might be effected by a rational system of farming. why should not russia follow the example of england and tuscany? by proper drainage, plentiful manure, good ploughs, and the cultivation of artificial grasses, the production might be multiplied tenfold; and by the introduction of agricultural machines the manual labour might be greatly diminished. all this seemed as simple as a sum in arithmetic, and victor alexandr'itch, more scholarum rei familiaris ignarus, without a moment's hesitation expended his ready money in procuring from england a threshing-machine, ploughs, harrows, and other implements of the newest model. the arrival of these was an event that was long remembered. the peasants examined them with attention, not unmixed with wonder, but said nothing. when the master explained to them the advantages of the new instruments, they still remained silent. only one old man, gazing at the threshing-machine, remarked, in an audible "aside," "a cunning people, these germans!"* on being asked for their opinion, they replied vaguely, "how should we know? it ought to be so." but when their master had retired, and was explaining to his wife and the french governess that the chief obstacle to progress in russia was the apathetic indolence and conservative spirit of the peasantry, they expressed their opinions more freely. "these may be all very well for the germans, but they won't do for us. how are our little horses to drag these big ploughs? and as for that [the threshing-machine], it's of no use." further examination and reflection confirmed this first impression, and it was unanimously decided that no good would come of the new-fangled inventions. * the russian peasant comprehends all the inhabitants of western europe under the term nyemtsi, which in the language of the educated designates only germans. the rest of humanity is composed of pravoslavniye (greek orthodox), busurmanye (mahometans), and poliacki (poles). these apprehensions proved to be only too well founded. the ploughs were much too heavy for the peasants' small horses, and the threshing-machine broke down at the first attempt to use it. for the purchase of lighter implements or stronger horses there was no ready money, and for the repairing of the threshing-machine there was not an engineer within a radius of a hundred and fifty miles. the experiment was, in short, a complete failure, and the new purchases were put away out of sight. for some weeks after this incident victor alexandr'itch felt very despondent, and spoke more than usual about the apathy and stupidity of the peasantry. his faith in infallible science was somewhat shaken, and his benevolent aspirations were for a time laid aside. but this eclipse of faith was not of long duration. gradually he recovered his normal condition, and began to form new schemes. from the study of certain works on political economy he learned that the system of communal property was ruinous to the fertility of the soil, and that free labour was always more productive than serfage. by the light of these principles he discovered why the peasantry in russia were so poor, and by what means their condition could he ameliorated. the communal land should be divided into family lots, and the serfs, instead of being forced to work for the proprietor, should pay a yearly sum as rent. the advantages of this change he perceived clearly--as clearly as he had formerly perceived the advantages of english agricultural implements--and he determined to make the experiment on his own estate. his first step was to call together the more intelligent and influential of his serfs, and to explain to them his project; but his efforts at explanation were eminently unsuccessful. even with regard to ordinary current affairs he could not express himself in that simple, homely language with which alone the peasants are familiar, and when he spoke on abstract subjects he naturally became quite unintelligible to his uneducated audience. the serfs listened attentively, but understood nothing. he might as well have spoken to them, as he often did in another kind of society, about the comparative excellence of italian and german music. at a second attempt he had rather more success. the peasants came to understand that what he wished was to break up the mir, or rural commune, and to put them all on obrok--that is to say, make them pay a yearly sum instead of giving him a certain amount of agricultural labour. much to his astonishment, his scheme did not meet with any sympathy. as to being put on obrok, the serfs did not much object, though they preferred to remain as they were; but his proposal to break up the mir astonished and bewildered them. they regarded it as a sea-captain might regard the proposal of a scientific wiseacre to knock a hole in the ship's bottom in order to make her sail faster. though they did not say much, he was intelligent enough to see that they would offer a strenuous passive resistance, and as he did not wish to act tyrannically, he let the matter drop. thus a second benevolent scheme was shipwrecked. many other schemes had a similar fate, and victor alexandr'itch began to perceive that it was very difficult to do good in this world, especially when the persons to be benefited were russian peasants. in reality the fault lay less with the serfs than with their master. victor alexandr'itch was by no means a stupid man. on the contrary, he had more than average talents. few men were more capable of grasping a new idea and forming a scheme for its realisation, and few men could play more dexterously with abstract principles. what he wanted was the power of dealing with concrete facts. the principles which he had acquired from university lectures and desultory reading were far too vague and abstract for practical use. he had studied abstract science without gaining any technical knowledge of details, and consequently when he stood face to face with real life he was like a student who, having studied mechanics in text-books, is suddenly placed in a workshop and ordered to construct a machine. only there was one difference: victor alexandr'itch was not ordered to do anything. voluntarily, without any apparent necessity, he set himself to work with tools which he could not handle. it was this that chiefly puzzled the peasants. why should he trouble himself with these new schemes, when he might live comfortably as he was? in some of his projects they could detect a desire to increase the revenue, but in others they could discover no such motive. in these latter they attributed his conduct to pure caprice, and put it into the same category as those mad pranks in which proprietors of jovial humour sometimes indulged. in the last years of serfage there were a good many landed proprietors like victor alexandr'itch--men who wished to do something beneficent, and did not know how to do it. when serfage was being abolished the majority of these men took an active part in the great work and rendered valuable service to their country. victor alexandr'itch acted otherwise. at first he sympathised warmly with the proposed emancipation and wrote several articles on the advantages of free labour, but when the government took the matter into its own hands he declared that the officials had deceived and slighted the noblesse, and he went over to the opposition. before the imperial edict was signed he went abroad, and travelled for three years in germany, france, and italy. shortly after his return he married a pretty, accomplished young lady, the daughter of an eminent official in st. petersburg, and since that time he has lived in his country-house. though a man of education and culture, victor alexandr'itch spends his time in almost as indolent a way as the men of the old school. he rises somewhat later, and instead of sitting by the open window and gazing into the courtyard, he turns over the pages of a book or periodical. instead of dining at midday and supping at nine o'clock, he takes dejeuner at twelve and dines at five. he spends less time in sitting in the verandah and pacing up and down with his hands behind his back, for he can vary the operation of time-killing by occasionally writing a letter, or by standing behind his wife at the piano while she plays selections from mozart and beethoven. but these peculiarities are merely variations in detail. if there is any essential difference between the lives of victor alexandr'itch and of ivan ivan'itch, it is in the fact that the former never goes out into the fields to see how the work is done, and never troubles himself with the state of the weather, the condition of the crops, and cognate subjects. he leaves the management of his estate entirely to his steward, and refers to that personage all peasants who come to him with complaints or petitions. though he takes a deep interest in the peasant as an impersonal, abstract entity, and loves to contemplate concrete examples of the genus in the works of certain popular authors, he does not like to have any direct relations with peasants in the flesh. if he has to speak with them he always feels awkward, and suffers from the odour of their sheepskins. ivan ivan'itch is ever ready to talk with the peasants, and give them sound, practical advice or severe admonitions; and in the old times he was apt, in moments of irritation, to supplement his admonitions by a free use of his fists. victor alexandr'itch, on the contrary, never could give any advice except vague commonplace, and as to using his fist, he would have shrunk from that, not only from respect to humanitarian principles, but also from motives which belong to the region of aesthetic sensitiveness. this difference between the two men has an important influence on their pecuniary affairs. the stewards of both steal from their masters; but that of ivan ivan'itch steals with difficulty, and to a very limited extent, whereas that of victor alexandr'itch steals regularly and methodically, and counts his gains, not by kopecks, but by roubles. though the two estates are of about the same size and value, they give a very different revenue. the rough, practical man has a much larger income than his elegant, well-educated neighbour, and at the same time spends very much less. the consequences of this, if not at present visible, must some day become painfully apparent. ivan ivan'itch will doubtless leave to his children an unencumbered estate and a certain amount of capital. the children of victor alexandr'itch have a different prospect. he has already begun to mortgage his property and to cut down the timber, and he always finds a deficit at the end of the year. what will become of his wife and children when the estate comes to be sold for payment of the mortgage, it is difficult to predict. he thinks very little of that eventuality, and when his thoughts happen to wander in that direction he consoles himself with the thought that before the crash comes he will have inherited a fortune from a rich uncle who has no children. the proprietors of the old school lead the same uniform, monotonous life year after year, with very little variation. victor alexandr'itch, on the contrary, feels the need of a periodical return to "civilised society," and accordingly spends a few weeks every winter in st. petersburg. during the summer months he has the society of his brother--un homme tout a fait civilise--who possesses an estate a few miles off. this brother, vladimir alexandr'itch, was educated in the school of law in st. petersburg, and has since risen rapidly in the service. he holds now a prominent position in one of the ministries, and has the honourary court title of "chambellan de sa majeste." he is a marked man in the higher circles of the administration, and will, it is thought, some day become minister. though an adherent of enlightened views, and a professed "liberal," he contrives to keep on very good terms with those who imagine themselves to be "conservatives." in this he is assisted by his soft, oily manner. if you express an opinion to him he will always begin by telling you that you are quite right; and if he ends by showing you that you are quite wrong, he will at least make you feel that your error is not only excusable, but in some way highly creditable to your intellectual acuteness or goodness of heart. in spite of his liberalism he is a staunch monarchist, and considers that the time has not yet come for the emperor to grant a constitution. he recognises that the present order of things has its defects, but thinks that, on the whole, it acts very well, and would act much better if certain high officials were removed, and more energetic men put in their places. like all genuine st. petersburg tchinovniks (officials), he has great faith in the miraculous power of imperial ukazes and ministerial circulars, and believes that national progress consists in multiplying these documents, and centralising the administration, so as to give them more effect. as a supplementary means of progress he highly approves of aesthetic culture, and he can speak with some eloquence of the humanising influence of the fine arts. for his own part he is well acquainted with french and english classics, and particularly admires macaulay, whom he declares to have been not only a great writer, but also a great statesman. among writers of fiction he gives the palm to george eliot, and speaks of the novelists of his own country, and, indeed, of russian literature as a whole, in the most disparaging terms. a very different estimate of russian literature is held by alexander ivan'itch n----, formerly arbiter in peasant affairs, and afterwards justice of the peace. discussions on this subject often take place between the two. the admirer of macaulay declares that russia has, properly speaking, no literature whatever, and that the works which bear the names of russian authors are nothing but a feeble echo of the literature of western europe. "imitators," he is wont to say, "skilful imitators, we have produced in abundance. but where is there a man of original genius? what is our famous poet zhukofski? a translator. what is pushkin? a clever pupil of the romantic school. what is lermontoff? a feeble imitator of byron. what is gogol?" at this point alexander ivan'itch invariable intervenes. he is ready to sacrifice all the pseudo-classic and romantic poetry, and, in fact, the whole of russian literature anterior to about the year , but he will not allow anything disrespectful to be said of gogol, who about that time founded the russian realistic school. "gogol," he holds, "was a great and original genius. gogol not only created a new kind of literature; he at the same time transformed the reading public, and inaugurated a new era in the intellectual development of the nation. by his humorous, satirical sketches he swept away the metaphysical dreaming and foolish romantic affectation then in fashion, and taught men to see their country as it was, in all its hideous ugliness. with his help the young generation perceived the rottenness of the administration, and the meanness, stupidity, dishonesty, and worthlessness of the landed proprietors, whom he made the special butt of his ridicule. the recognition of defects produced a desire for reform. from laughing at the proprietors there was but one step to despising them, and when we learned to despise the proprietors we naturally came to sympathise with the serfs. thus the emancipation was prepared by the literature; and when the great question had to be solved, it was the literature that discovered a satisfactory solution." this is a subject on which alexander ivan'itch feels very strongly, and on which he always speaks with warmth. he knows a good deal regarding the intellectual movement which began about , and culminated in the great reforms of the sixties. as a university student he troubled himself very little with serious academic work, but he read with intense interest all the leading periodicals, and adopted the doctrine of belinski that art should not be cultivated for its own sake, but should be made subservient to social progress. this belief was confirmed by a perusal of some of george sand's earlier works, which were for him a kind of revelation. social questions engrossed his thoughts, and all other subjects seemed puny by comparison. when the emancipation question was raised he saw an opportunity of applying some of his theories, and threw himself enthusiastically into the new movement as an ardent abolitionist. when the law was passed he helped to put it into execution by serving for three years as an arbiter of the peace. now he is an old man, but he has preserved some of his youthful enthusiasm, attends regularly the annual assemblies of the zemstvo, and takes a lively interest in all public affairs. as an ardent partisan of local self-government he habitually scoffs at the centralised bureaucracy, which he proclaims to be the great bane of his unhappy country. "these tchinovniks," he is wont to say in moments of excitement, "who live in st. petersburg and govern the empire, know about as much of russia as they do of china. they live in a world of official documents, and are hopelessly ignorant of the real wants and interests of the people. so long as all the required formalities are duly observed they are perfectly satisfied. the people may be allowed to die of starvation if only the fact do not appear in the official reports. powerless to do any good themselves, they are powerful enough to prevent others from working for the public good, and are extremely jealous of all private initiative. how have they acted, for instance, towards the zemstvo? the zemstvo is really a good institution, and might have done great things if it had been left alone, but as soon as it began to show a little independent energy the officials at once clipped its wings and then strangled it. towards the press they have acted in the same way. they are afraid of the press, because they fear above all things a healthy public opinion, which the press alone can create. everything that disturbs the habitual routine alarms them. russia cannot make any real progress so long as she is ruled by these cursed tchinovniks." scarcely less pernicious than the tchinovnik, in the eyes of our would-be reformer, is the baritch--that is to say, the pampered, capricious, spoiled child of mature years, whose life is spent in elegant indolence and fine talking. our friend victor alexandr'itch is commonly selected as a representative of this type. "look at him!" exclaims alexander ivan'itch. "what a useless, contemptible member of society! in spite of his generous aspirations he never succeeds in doing anything useful to himself or to others. when the peasant question was raised and there was work to be done, he went abroad and talked liberalism in paris and baden-baden. though he reads, or at least professes to read, books on agriculture, and is always ready to discourse on the best means of preventing the exhaustion of the soil, he knows less of farming than a peasant-boy of twelve, and when he goes into the fields he can hardly distinguish rye from oats. instead of babbling about german and italian music, he would do well to learn a little about practical farming, and look after his estate." whilst alexander ivan'itch thus censures his neighbours, he is himself not without detractors. some staid old proprietors regard him as a dangerous man, and quote expressions of his which seem to indicate that his notions of property are somewhat loose. many consider that his liberalism is of a very violent kind, and that he has strong republican sympathies. in his decisions as justice he often leaned, it is said, to the side of the peasants against the proprietors. then he was always trying to induce the peasants of the neighbouring villages to found schools, and he had wonderful ideas about the best method of teaching children. these and similar facts make many people believe that he has very advanced ideas, and one old gentleman habitually calls him--half in joke and half in earnest--"our friend the communist." in reality alexander ivan'itch has nothing of the communist about him. though he loudly denounces the tchinovnik spirit--or, as we should say, red-tape in all its forms--and is an ardent partisan of local self-government, he is one of the last men in the world to take part in any revolutionary movement, he would like to see the central government enlightened and controlled by public opinion and by a national representation, but he believes that this can only be effected by voluntary concessions on the part of the autocratic power. he has, perhaps, a sentimental love of the peasantry, and is always ready to advocate its interests; but he has come too much in contact with individual peasants to accept those idealised descriptions in which some popular writers indulge, and it may safely be asserted that the accusation of his voluntarily favouring peasants at the expense of the proprietors is wholly unfounded. alexander ivan'itch is, in fact, a quiet, sensible man, who is capable of generous enthusiasm, and is not at all satisfied with the existing state of things; but he is not a dreamer and a revolutionnaire, as some of his neighbours assert. i am afraid i cannot say as much for his younger brother nikolai, who lives with him. nikolai ivan'itch is a tall, slender man, about sixty years of age, with emaciated face, bilious complexion and long black hair--evidently a person of excitable, nervous temperament. when he speaks he articulates rapidly, and uses more gesticulation than is common among his countrymen. his favourite subject of conversation, or rather of discourse, for he more frequently preaches than talks, is the lamentable state of the country and the worthlessness of the government. against the government he has a great many causes for complaint, and one or two of a personal kind. in he was a student in the university of st. petersburg. at that time there was a great deal of public excitement all over russia, and especially in the capital. the serfs had just been emancipated, and other important reforms had been undertaken. there was a general conviction among the young generation--and it must be added among many older men--that the autocratic, paternal system of government was at an end, and that russia was about to be reorganised according to the most advanced principles of political and social science. the students, sharing this conviction, wished to be freed from all academical authority, and to organise a kind of academic self-government. they desired especially the right of holding public meetings for the discussion of their common affairs. the authorities would not allow this, and issued a list of rules prohibiting meetings and raising the class-fees, so as practically to exclude many of the poorer students. this was felt to be a wanton insult to the spirit of the new era. in spite of the prohibition, indignation meetings were held, and fiery speeches made by male and female orators, first in the class-rooms, and afterwards in the courtyard of the university. on one occasion a long procession marched through the principal streets to the house of the curator. never had such a spectacle been seen before in st. petersburg. timid people feared that it was the commencement of a revolution, and dreamed about barricades. at last the authorities took energetic measures; about three hundred students were arrested, and of these, thirty-two were expelled from the university. among those who were expelled was nicolai ivan'itch. all his hopes of becoming a professor, as he had intended, were thereby shipwrecked, and he had to look out for some other profession. a literary career now seemed the most promising, and certainly the most congenial to his tastes. it would enable him to gratify his ambition of being a public man, and give him opportunities of attacking and annoying his persecutors. he had already written occasionally for one of the leading periodicals, and now he became a regular contributor. his stock of positive knowledge was not very large, but he had the power of writing fluently and of making his readers believe that he had an unlimited store of political wisdom which the press-censure prevented him from publishing. besides this, he had the talent of saying sharp, satirical things about those in authority, in such a way that even a press censor could not easily raise objections. articles written in this style were sure at that time to be popular, and his had a very great success. he became a known man in literary circles, and for a time all went well. but gradually he became less cautious, whilst the authorities became more vigilant. some copies of a violent seditious proclamation fell into the hands of the police, and it was generally believed that the document proceeded from the coterie to which he belonged. from that moment he was carefully watched, till one night he was unexpectedly roused from his sleep by a gendarme and conveyed to the fortress. when a man is arrested in this way for a real or supposed political offence, there are two modes of dealing with him. he may be tried before a regular tribunal, or he may be dealt with "by administrative procedure" (administrativnym poryadkom). in the former case he will, if convicted, be condemned to imprisonment for a certain term; or, if the offence be of a graver nature, he may be transported to siberia either for a fixed period or for life. by the administrative procedure he is simply removed without a trial to some distant town, and compelled to live there under police supervision during his majesty's pleasure. nikolai ivan'itch was treated "administratively," because the authorities, though convinced that he was a dangerous character, could not find sufficient evidence to procure his conviction before a court of justice. for five years he lived under police supervision in a small town near the white sea, and then one day he was informed, without any explanation, that he might go and live anywhere he pleased except in st. petersburg and moscow. since that time he has lived with his brother, and spends his time in brooding over his grievances and bewailing his shattered illusions. he has lost none of that fluency which gained him an ephemeral literary reputation, and can speak by the hour on political and social questions to any one who will listen to him. it is extremely difficult, however, to follow his discourses, and utterly impossible to retain them in the memory. they belong to what may be called political metaphysics--for though he professes to hold metaphysics in abhorrence, he is himself a thorough metaphysician in his modes of thought. he lives, indeed, in a world of abstract conceptions, in which he can scarcely perceive concrete facts, and his arguments are always a kind of clever juggling with such equivocal, conventional terms as aristocracy, bourgeoisie, monarchy, and the like. at concrete facts he arrives, not directly by observation, but by deductions from general principles, so that his facts can never by any possibility contradict his theories. then he has certain axioms which he tacitly assumes, and on which all his arguments are based; as, for instance, that everything to which the term "liberal" can be applied must necessarily be good at all times and under all conditions. among a mass of vague conceptions which it is impossible to reduce to any clearly defined form he has a few ideas which are perhaps not strictly true, but which are at least intelligible. among these is his conviction that russia has let slip a magnificent opportunity of distancing all europe on the road of progress. she might, he thinks, at the time of the emancipation, have boldly accepted all the most advanced principles of political and social science, and have completely reorganised the political and social structure in accordance with them. other nations could not take such a step, because they are old and decrepit, filled with stubborn, hereditary prejudices, and cursed with an aristocracy and a bourgeoisie; but russia is young, knows nothing of social castes, and has no deep-rooted prejudices to contend with. the population is like potter's clay, which can be made to assume any form that science may recommend. alexander ii. began a magnificent sociological experiment, but he stopped half-way. some day, he believes, the experiment will be completed, but not by the autocratic power. in his opinion autocracy is "played out," and must give way to parliamentary institutions. for him a constitution is a kind of omnipotent fetish. you may try to explain to him that a parliamentary regime, whatever its advantages may be, necessarily produces political parties and political conflicts, and is not nearly so suitable for grand sociological experiments as a good paternal despotism. you may try to convince him that, though it may be difficult to convert an autocrat, it is infinitely more difficult to convert a house of commons. but all your efforts will be in vain. he will assure you that a russian parliament would be something quite different from what parliaments commonly are. it would contain no parties, for russia has no social castes, and would be guided entirely by scientific considerations--as free from prejudice and personal influences as a philosopher speculating on the nature of the infinite! in short, he evidently imagines that a national parliament would be composed of himself and his friends, and that the nation would calmly submit to their ukazes, as it has hitherto submitted to the ukazes of the tsars. pending the advent of this political millennium, when unimpassioned science is to reign supreme, nikolai ivan'itch allows himself the luxury of indulging in some very decided political animosities, and he hates with the fervour of a fanatic. firstly and chiefly, he hates what he calls the bourgeoisie--he is obliged to use the french word, because his native language does not contain an equivalent term--and especially capitalists of all sorts and dimensions. next, he hates aristocracy, especially a form of aristocracy called feudalism. to these abstract terms he does not attach a very precise meaning, but he hates the entities which they are supposed to represent quite as heartily as if they were personal enemies. among the things which he hates in his own country, the autocratic power holds the first place. next, as an emanation from the autocratic power, come the tchinovniks, and especially the gendarmes. then come the landed proprietors. though he is himself a landed proprietor, he regards the class as cumberers of the ground, and thinks that all their land should be confiscated and distributed among the peasantry. all proprietors have the misfortune to come under his sweeping denunciations, because they are inconsistent with his ideal of a peasant empire, but he recognises amongst them degrees of depravity. some are simply obstructive, whilst others are actively prejudicial to the public welfare. among these latter a special object of aversion is prince s----, because he not only possesses very large estates, but at the same time has aristocratic pretensions, and calls himself conservative. prince s---- is by far the most important man in the district. his family is one of the oldest in the country, but he does not owe his influence to his pedigree, for pedigree pure and simple does not count for much in russia. he is influential and respected because he is a great land-holder with a high official position, and belongs by birth to that group of families which forms the permanent nucleus of the ever-changing court society. his father and grandfather were important personages in the administration and at court, and his sons and grandsons will probably in this respect follow in the footsteps of their ancestors. though in the eye of the law all nobles are equal, and, theoretically speaking, promotion is gained exclusively by personal merit, yet, in reality, those who have friends at court rise more easily and more rapidly. the prince has had a prosperous but not very eventful life. he was educated, first at home, under an english tutor, and afterwards in the corps des pages. on leaving this institution he entered a regiment of the guards, and rose steadily to high military rank. his activity, however, has been chiefly in the civil administration, and he now has a seat in the council of state. though he has always taken a certain interest in public affairs, he did not play an important part in any of the great reforms. when the peasant question was raised he sympathised with the idea of emancipation, but did not at all sympathise with the idea of giving land to the emancipated serfs and preserving the communal institutions. what he desired was that the proprietors should liberate their serfs without any pecuniary indemnity, and should receive in return a certain share of political power. his scheme was not adopted, but he has not relinquished the hope that the great landed proprietors may somehow obtain a social and political position similar to that of the great land-owners in england. official duties and social relations compel the prince to live for a large part of the year in the capital. he spends only a few weeks yearly on his estate. the house is large, and fitted up in the english style, with a view to combining elegance and comfort. it contains several spacious apartments, a library, and a billiard-room. there is an extensive park, an immense garden with hot houses, numerous horses and carriages, and a legion of servants. in the drawing-room is a plentiful supply of english and french books, newspapers, and periodicals, including the journal de st. petersbourg, which gives the news of the day. the family have, in short, all the conveniences and comforts which money and refinement can procure, but it cannot be said that they greatly enjoy the time spent in the country. the princess has no decided objection to it. she is devoted to a little grandchild, is fond of reading and correspondence, amuses herself with a school and hospital which she has founded for the peasantry, and occasionally drives over to see her friend, the countess n----, who lives about fifteen miles off. the prince, however, finds country life excessively dull. he does not care for riding or shooting, and he finds nothing else to do. he knows nothing about the management of his estate, and holds consultations with the steward merely pro forma--this estate and the others which he possesses in different provinces being ruled by a head-steward in st. petersburg, in whom he has the most complete confidence. in the vicinity there is no one with whom he cares to associate. naturally he is not a sociable man, and he has acquired a stiff, formal, reserved manner that is rarely met with in russia. this manner repels the neighbouring proprietors--a fact that he does not at all regret, for they do not belong to his monde, and they have in their manners and habits a free-and-easy rusticity which is positively disagreeable to him. his relations with them are therefore confined to formal calls. the greater part of the day he spends in listless loitering, frequently yawning, regretting the routine of st. petersburg life--the pleasant chats with his colleagues, the opera, the ballet, the french theatre, and the quiet rubber at the club anglais. his spirits rise as the day of his departure approaches, and when he drives off to the station he looks bright and cheerful. if he consulted merely his own tastes he would never visit his estates at all, and would spend his summer holidays in germany, france, or switzerland, as he did in his bachelor days; but as a large landowner he considers it right to sacrifice his personal inclinations to the duties of his position. there is, by the way, another princely magnate in the district, and i ought perhaps to introduce him to my readers, because he represents worthily a new type. like prince s----, of whom i have just spoken, he is a great land-owner and a descendant of the half-mythical rurik; but he has no official rank, and does not possess a single grand cordon. in that respect he has followed in the footsteps of his father and grandfather, who had something of the frondeur spirit, and preferred the position of a grand seigneur and a country gentleman to that of a tchinovnik and a courtier. in the liberal camp he is regarded as a conservative, but he has little in common with the krepostnik, who declares that the reforms of the last half-century were a mistake, that everything is going to the bad, that the emancipated serfs are all sluggards, drunkards, and thieves, that the local self-government is an ingenious machine for wasting money, and that the reformed law-courts have conferred benefits only on the lawyers. on the contrary, he recognises the necessity and beneficent results of the reforms, and with regard to the future he has none of the despairing pessimism of the incorrigible old tory. but in order that real progress should be made, he thinks that certain current and fashionable errors must be avoided, and among these errors he places, in the first rank, the views and principles of the advanced liberals, who have a blind admiration for western europe, and for what they are pleased to call the results of science. like the liberals of the west, these gentlemen assume that the best form of government is constitutionalism, monarchical or republican, on a broad democratic basis, and towards the realisation of this ideal all their efforts are directed. not so our conservative friend. while admitting that democratic parliamentary institutions may be the best form of government for the more advanced nations of the west, he maintains that the only firm foundation for the russian empire, and the only solid guarantee of its future prosperity, is the autocratic power, which is the sole genuine representative of the national spirit. looking at the past from this point of view, he perceives that the tsars have ever identified themselves with the nation, and have always understood, in part instinctively and in part by reflection, what the nation really required. whenever the infiltration of western ideas threatened to swamp the national individuality, the autocratic power intervened and averted the danger by timely precautions. something of the kind may be observed, he believes, at present, when the liberals are clamouring for a parliament and a constitution; but the autocratic power is on the alert, and is making itself acquainted with the needs of the people by means far more effectual than could be supplied by oratorical politicians. with the efforts of the zemstvo in this direction, and with the activity of the zemstvo generally, the prince has little sympathy, partly because the institution is in the hands of the liberals and is guided by their unpractical ideas, and partly because it enables some ambitious outsiders to acquire the influence in local affairs which ought to be exercised by the old-established noble families of the neighbourhood. what he would like to see is an enlightened, influential gentry working in conjunction with the autocratic power for the good of the country. if russia could produce a few hundred thousand men like himself, his ideal might perhaps be realised. for the present, such men are extremely rare--i should have difficulty in naming a dozen of them--and aristocratic ideas are extremely unpopular among the great majority of the educated classes. when a russian indulges in political speculation, he is pretty sure to show himself thoroughly democratic, with a strong leaning to socialism. the prince belongs to the highest rank of the russian noblesse. if we wish to get an idea of the lowest rank, we can find in the neighbourhood a number of poor, uneducated men, who live in small, squalid houses, and are not easily to be distinguished from peasants. they are nobles, like his highness; but, unlike him, they enjoy no social consideration, and their landed property consists of a few acres of land which barely supply them with the first necessaries of life. if we went to other parts of the country we might find men in this condition bearing the title of prince! this is the natural result of the russian law of inheritance, which does not recognise the principle of primogeniture with regard to titles and estates. all the sons of a prince are princes, and at his death his property, movable and immovable, is divided amongst them. chapter xxiii social classes do social classes or castes exist in russia?--well-marked social types--classes recognised by the legislation and the official statistics--origin and gradual formation of these classes--peculiarity in the historical development of russia--political life and political parties. in the preceding pages i have repeatedly used the expression "social classes," and probably more than once the reader has felt inclined to ask, what are social classes in the russian sense of the term? it may be well, therefore, before going farther, to answer this question. if the question were put to a russian it is not at all unlikely that he would reply somewhat in this fashion: "in russia there are no social classes, and there never have been any. that fact constitutes one of the most striking peculiarities of her historical development, and one of the surest foundations of her future greatness. we know nothing, and have never known anything, of those class distinctions and class enmities which in western europe have often rudely shaken society in past times, and imperil its existence in the future." this statement will not be readily accepted by the traveller who visits russia with no preconceived ideas and forms his opinions from his own observations. to him it seems that class distinctions form one of the most prominent characteristics of russian society. in a few days he learns to distinguish the various classes by their outward appearance. he easily recognises the french-speaking nobles in west-european costume; the burly, bearded merchant in black cloth cap and long, shiny, double-breasted coat; the priest with his uncut hair and flowing robes; the peasant with his full, fair beard and unsavoury, greasy sheepskin. meeting everywhere those well-marked types, he naturally assumes that russian society is composed of exclusive castes; and this first impression will be fully confirmed by a glance at the code. on examining that monumental work, he finds that an entire volume--and by no means the smallest--is devoted to the rights and obligations of the various classes. from this he concludes that the classes have a legal as well as an actual existence. to make assurance doubly sure he turns to official statistics, and there he finds the following table: hereditary nobles........ , personal nobles.......... , clerical classes......... , town classes........... , , rural classes......... , , military classes....... , , foreigners............... , ---------- , , * * livron: "statistitcheskoe obozrenie rossiiskoi imperii," st. petersburg, . the above figures include the whole empire. the figures according to the latest census ( ) are not yet available. armed with these materials, the traveller goes to his russian friends who have assured him that their country knows nothing of class distinctions. he is confident of being able to convince them that they have been labouring under a strange delusion, but he will be disappointed. they will tell him that these laws and statistics prove nothing, and that the categories therein mentioned are mere administrative fictions. this apparent contradiction is to be explained by the equivocal meaning of the russian terms sosloviya and sostoyaniya, which are commonly translated "social classes." if by these terms are meant "castes" in the oriental sense, then it may be confidently asserted that such do not exist in russia. between the nobles, the clergy, the burghers, and the peasants there are no distinctions of race and no impassable barriers. the peasant often becomes a merchant, and there are many cases on record of peasants and sons of parish priests becoming nobles. until very recently the parish clergy composed, as we have seen, a peculiar and exclusive class, with many of the characteristics of a caste; but this has been changed, and it may now be said that in russia there are no castes in the oriental sense. if the word sosloviya be taken to mean an organised political unit with an esprit de corps and a clearly conceived political aim, it may likewise be admitted that there are none in russia. as there has been for centuries no political life among the subjects of the tsars, there have been no political parties. on the other hand, to say that social classes have never existed in russia and that the categories which appear in the legislation and in the official statistics are mere administrative fictions, is a piece of gross exaggeration. from the very beginning of russian history we can detect unmistakably the existence of social classes, such as the princes, the boyars, the armed followers of the princes, the peasantry, the slaves, and various others; and one of the oldest legal documents which we possess--the "russian right" (russkaya pravda) of the grand prince yaroslaff ( - )--contains irrefragable proof, in the penalties attached to various crimes, that these classes were formally recognised by the legislation. since that time they have frequently changed their character, but they have never at any period ceased to exist. in ancient times, when there was very little administrative regulation, the classes had perhaps no clearly defined boundaries, and the peculiarities which distinguished them from each other were actual rather than legal--lying in the mode of life and social position rather than in peculiar obligations and privileges. but as the autocratic power developed and strove to transform the nation into a state with a highly centralised administration, the legal element in the social distinctions became more and more prominent. for financial and other purposes the people had to be divided into various categories. the actual distinctions were of course taken as the basis of the legal classification, but the classifying had more than a merely formal significance. the necessity of clearly defining the different groups entailed the necessity of elevating and strengthening the barriers which already existed between them, and the difficulty of passing from one group to another was thereby increased. in this work of classification peter the great especially distinguished himself. with his insatiable passion for regulation, he raised formidable barriers between the different categories, and defined the obligations of each with microscopic minuteness. after his death the work was carried on in the same spirit, and the tendency reached its climax in the reign of nicholas, when the number of students to be received in the universities was determined by imperial ukaz! in the reign of catherine a new element was introduced into the official conception of social classes. down to her time the government had thought merely of class obligations; under the influence of western ideas she introduced the conception of class rights. she wished, as we have seen, to have in her empire a noblesse and tiers-etat like those which existed in france, and for this purpose she granted, first to the dvoryanstvo and afterwards to the towns, an imperial charter, or bill of rights. succeeding sovereigns have acted in the same spirit, and the code now confers on each class numerous privileges as well as numerous obligations. thus, we see, the oft-repeated assertion that the russian social classes are simply artificial categories created by the legislature is to a certain extent true, but is by no means accurate. the social groups, such as peasants, landed proprietors, and the like, came into existence in russia, as in other countries, by the simple force of circumstances. the legislature merely recognised and developed the social distinctions which already existed. the legal status, obligations, and rights of each group were minutely defined and regulated, and legal barriers were added to the actual barriers which separated the groups from each other. what is peculiar in the historical development of russia is this: until lately she remained an almost exclusively agricultural empire with abundance of unoccupied land. her history presents, therefore, few of those conflicts which result from the variety of social conditions and the intensified struggle for existence. certain social groups were, indeed, formed in the course of time, but they were never allowed to fight out their own battles. the irresistible autocratic power kept them always in check and fashioned them into whatever form it thought proper, defining minutely and carefully their obligations, their rights, their mutual relations, and their respective positions in the political organisation. hence we find in the history of russia almost no trace of those class hatreds which appear so conspicuously in the history of western europe.* * this is, i believe, the true explanation of an important fact, which the slavophils endeavoured to explain by an ill-authenticated legend (vide supra p. ). the practical consequence of all this is that in russia at the present day there is very little caste spirit or caste prejudice. within half-a-dozen years after the emancipation of the serfs, proprietors and peasants, forgetting apparently their old relationship of master and serf, were working amicably together in the new local administration, and not a few similar curious facts might be cited. the confident anticipation of many russians that their country will one day enjoy political life without political parties is, if not a contradiction in terms, at least a utopian absurdity; but we may be sure that when political parties do appear they will be very different from those which exist in germany, france, and england. meanwhile, let us see how the country is governed without political parties and without political life in the west-european sense of the term. this will form the subject of our next chapter. chapter xxiv the imperial administration and the officials the officials in norgorod assist me in my studies--the modern imperial administration created by peter the great, and developed by his successors--a slavophil's view of the administration--the administration briefly described--the tchinovniks, or officials--official titles, and their real significance--what the administration has done for russia in the past--its character determined by the peculiar relation between the government and the people--its radical vices--bureaucratic remedies--complicated formal procedure--the gendarmerie: my personal relations with this branch of the administration; arrest and release--a strong, healthy public opinion the only effectual remedy for bad administration. my administrative studies were begun in novgorod. one of my reasons for spending a winter in that provincial capital was that i might study the provincial administration, and as soon as i had made the acquaintance of the leading officials i explained to them the object i had in view. with the kindly bonhomie which distinguishes the russian educated classes, they all volunteered to give me every assistance in their power, but some of them, on mature reflection, evidently saw reason to check their first generous impulse. among these was the vice-governor, a gentleman of german origin, and therefore more inclined to be pedantic than a genuine russian. when i called on him one evening and reminded him of his friendly offer, i found to my surprise that he had in the meantime changed his mind. instead of answering my first simple inquiry, he stared at me fixedly, as if for the purpose of detecting some covert, malicious design, and then, putting on an air of official dignity, informed me that as i had not been authorised by the minister to make these investigations, he could not assist me, and would certainly not allow me to examine the archives. this was not encouraging, but it did not prevent me from applying to the governor, and i found him a man of a very different stamp. delighted to meet a foreigner who seemed anxious to study seriously in an unbiassed frame of mind the institutions of his much-maligned native country, he willingly explained to me the mechanism of the administration which he directed and controlled, and kindly placed at my disposal the books and documents in which i could find the historical and practical information which i required. this friendly attitude of his excellency towards me soon became generally known in the town, and from that moment my difficulties were at an end. the minor officials no longer hesitated to initiate me into the mysteries of their respective departments, and at last even the vice-governor threw off his reserve and followed the example of his colleagues. the elementary information thus acquired i had afterwards abundant opportunities of completing by observation and study in other parts of the empire, and i now propose to communicate to the reader a few of the more general results. the gigantic administrative machine which holds together all the various parts of the vast empire has been gradually created by successive generations, but we may say roughly that it was first designed and constructed by peter the great. before his time the country was governed in a rude, primitive fashion. the grand princes of moscow, in subduing their rivals and annexing the surrounding principalities, merely cleared the ground for a great homogeneous state. wily, practical politicians, rather than statesmen of the doctrinaire type, they never dreamed of introducing uniformity and symmetry into the administration as a whole. they developed the ancient institutions so far as these were useful and consistent with the exercise of autocratic power, and made only such alterations as practical necessity demanded. and these necessary alterations were more frequently local than general. special decisions, instruction to particular officials, and charters for particular communes of proprietors were much more common than general legislative measures. in short, the old muscovite tsars practised a hand-to-mouth policy, destroying whatever caused temporary inconvenience, and giving little heed to what did not force itself upon their attention. hence, under their rule the administration presented not only territorial peculiarities, but also an ill-assorted combination of different systems in the same district--a conglomeration of institutions belonging to different epochs, like a fleet composed of triremes, three-deckers, and iron-clads. this irregular system, or rather want of system, seemed highly unsatisfactory to the logical mind of peter the great, and he conceived the grand design of sweeping it away, and putting in its place a symmetrical bureaucratic machine. it is scarcely necessary to say that this magnificent project, so foreign to the traditional ideas and customs of the people, was not easily realised. imagine a man, without technical knowledge, without skilled workmen, without good tools, and with no better material than soft, crumbling sandstone, endeavouring to build a palace on a marsh! the undertaking would seem to reasonable minds utterly absurd, and yet it must be admitted that peter's project was scarcely more feasible. he had neither technical knowledge, nor the requisite materials, nor a firm foundation to build on. with his usual titanic energy he demolished the old structure, but his attempts to construct were little more than a series of failures. in his numerous ukazes he has left us a graphic description of his efforts, and it is at once instructive and pathetic to watch the great worker toiling indefatigably at his self-imposed task. his instruments are constantly breaking in his hands. the foundations of the building are continually giving way, and the lower tiers crumbling under the superincumbent weight. now and then a whole section is found to be unsuitable, and is ruthlessly pulled down, or falls of its own accord. and yet the builder toils on, with a perseverance and an energy of purpose that compel admiration, frankly confessing his mistakes and failures, and patiently seeking the means of remedying them, never allowing a word of despondency to escape him, and never despairing of ultimate success. and at length death comes, and the mighty builder is snatched away suddenly in the midst of his unfinished labours, bequeathing to his successors the task of carrying on the great work. none of these successors possessed peter's genius and energy--with the exception perhaps of catherine ii.--but they were all compelled by the force of circumstances to adopt his plans. a return to the old rough-and-ready rule of the local voyevods was impossible. as the autocratic power became more and more imbued with western ideas, it felt more and more the need of new means for carrying them out, and accordingly it strove to systematise and centralise the administration. in this change we may perceive a certain analogy with the history of the french administration from the reign of philippe le bel to that of louis xiv. in both countries we see the central power bringing the local administrative organs more and more under its control, till at last it succeeds in creating a thoroughly centralised bureaucratic organisation. but under this superficial resemblance lie profound differences. the french kings had to struggle with provincial sovereignties and feudal rights, and when they had annihilated this opposition they easily found materials with which to build up the bureaucratic structure. the russian sovereigns, on the contrary, met with no such opposition, but they had great difficulty in finding bureaucratic material amongst their uneducated, undisciplined subjects, notwithstanding the numerous schools and colleges which were founded and maintained simply for the purpose of preparing men for the public service. the administration was thus brought much nearer to the west-european ideal, but some people have grave doubts as to whether it became thereby better adapted to the practical wants of the people for whom it was created. on this point a well-known slavophil once made to me some remarks which are worthy of being recorded. "you have observed," he said, "that till very recently there was in russia an enormous amount of official peculation, extortion, and misgovernment of every kind, that the courts of law were dens of iniquity, that the people often committed perjury, and much more of the same sort, and it must be admitted that all this has not yet entirely disappeared. but what does it prove? that the russian people are morally inferior to the german? not at all. it simply proves that the german system of administration, which was forced upon them without their consent, was utterly unsuited to their nature. if a young growing boy be compelled to wear very tight boots, he will probably burst them, and the ugly rents will doubtless produce an unfavourable impression on the passers-by; but surely it is better that the boots should burst than that the feet should be deformed. now, the russian people was compelled to put on not only tight boots, but also a tight jacket, and, being young and vigorous, it burst them. narrow-minded, pedantic germans can neither understand nor provide for the wants of the broad slavonic nature." in its present form the russian administration seems at first sight a very imposing edifice. at the top of the pyramid stands the emperor, "the autocratic monarch," as peter the great described him, "who has to give an account of his acts to no one on earth, but has power and authority to rule his states and lands as a christian sovereign according to his own will and judgment." immediately below the emperor we see the council of state, the committee of ministers, and the senate, which represent respectively the legislative, the administrative, and the judicial power. an englishman glancing over the first volume of the great code of laws might imagine that the council of state is a kind of parliament, and the committee of ministers a cabinet in our sense of the term, but in reality both institutions are simply incarnations of the autocratic power. though the council is entrusted by law with many important functions--such as discussing bills, criticising the annual budget, declaring war and concluding peace--it has merely a consultative character, and the emperor is not in any way bound by its decisions. the committee is not at all a cabinet as we understand the word. the ministers are directly and individually responsible to the emperor, and therefore the committee has no common responsibility or other cohesive force. as to the senate, it has descended from its high estate. it was originally entrusted with the supreme power during the absence or minority of the monarch, and was intended to exercise a controlling influence in all sections of the administration, but now its activity is restricted to judicial matters, and it is little more than a supreme court of appeal. immediately below these three institutions stand the ministries, ten in number. they are the central points in which converge the various kinds of territorial administration, and from which radiates the imperial will all over the empire. for the purpose of territorial administration russia proper--that is to say, european russia, exclusive of poland, the baltic provinces, finland and the caucasus--is divided into forty-nine provinces or "governments" (gubernii), and each government is subdivided into districts (uyezdi). the average area of a province is about the size of portugal, but some are as small as belgium, whilst one at least is twenty-five times as big. the population, however, does not correspond to the amount of territory. in the largest province, that of archangel, there are only about , inhabitants, whilst in two of the smaller ones there are over three millions. the districts likewise vary greatly in size. some are smaller than oxfordshire or buckingham, and others are bigger than the whole of the united kingdom. over each province is placed a governor, who is assisted in his duties by a vice-governor and a small council. according to the legislation of catherine ii., which still appears in the code and has only been partially repealed, the governor is termed "the steward of the province," and is entrusted with so many and such delicate duties, that in order to obtain qualified men for the post it would be necessary to realise the great empress's design of creating, by education, "a new race of people." down to the time of the crimean war the governors understood the term "stewards" in a very literal sense, and ruled in a most arbitrary, high-handed style, often exercising an important influence on the civil and criminal tribunals. these extensive and vaguely defined powers have now been very much curtailed, partly by positive legislation, and partly by increased publicity and improved means of communication. all judicial matters have been placed theoretically beyond the governor's control, and many of his former functions are now fulfilled by the zemstvo--the new organ of local self-government. besides this, all ordinary current affairs are regulated by an already big and ever-growing body of instructions, in the form of imperial orders and ministerial circulars, and as soon as anything not provided for by the instructions happens to occur, the minister is consulted through the post-office or by telegraph. even within the sphere of their lawful authority the governors have now a certain respect for public opinion and occasionally a very wholesome dread of casual newspaper correspondents. thus the men who were formerly described by the satirists as "little satraps" have sunk to the level of subordinate officials. i can confidently say that many (i believe the majority) of them are honest, upright men, who are perhaps not endowed with any unusual administrative capacities, but who perform their duties faithfully according to their lights. if any representatives of the old "satraps" still exist, they must be sought for in the outlying asiatic provinces. independent of the governor, who is the local representative of the ministry of the interior, are a number of resident officials, who represent the other ministries, and each of them has a bureau, with the requisite number of assistants, secretaries, and scribes. to keep this vast and complex bureaucratic machine in motion it is necessary to have a large and well-drilled army of officials. these are drawn chiefly from the ranks of the noblesse and the clergy, and form a peculiar social class called tchinovniks, or men with tchins. as the tchin plays an important part in russia, not only in the official world, but also to some extent in social life, it may be well to explain its significance. all offices, civil and military, are, according to a scheme invented by peter the great, arranged in fourteen classes or ranks, and to each class or rank a particular name is attached. as promotion is supposed to be given according to personal merit, a man who enters the public service for the first time must, whatever be his social position, begin in the lower ranks, and work his way upwards. educational certificates may exempt him from the necessity of passing through the lowest classes, and the imperial will may disregard the restrictions laid down by law; but as general rule a man must begin at or near the bottom of the official ladder, and he must remain on each step a certain specified time. the step on which he is for the moment standing, or, in other words, the official rank or tchin which he possesses determines what offices he is competent to hold. thus rank or tchin is a necessary condition for receiving an appointment, but it does not designate any actual office, and the names of the different ranks are extremely apt to mislead a foreigner. we must always bear this in mind when we meet with those imposing titles which russian tourists sometimes put on their visiting cards, such as "conseiller de cour," "conseiller d'etat," "conseiller prive de s. m. l'empereur de toutes les russies." it would be uncharitable to suppose that these titles are used with the intention of misleading, but that they do sometimes mislead there cannot be the least doubt. i shall never forget the look of intense disgust which i once saw on the face of an american who had invited to dinner a "conseiller de cour," on the assumption that he would have a court dignitary as his guest, and who casually discovered that the personage in question was simply an insignificant official in one of the public offices. no doubt other people have had similar experiences. the unwary foreigner who has heard that there is in russia a very important institution called the "conseil d'etat," naturally supposes that a "conseiller d'etat" is a member of that venerable body; and if he meets "son excellence le conseiller prive," he is pretty sure to assume--especially if the word "actuel" has been affixed--that he sees before him a real living member of the russian privy council. when to the title is added, "de s. m. l'empereur de toutes les russies," a boundless field is opened up to the non-russian imagination. in reality these titles are not nearly so important as they seem. the soi-disant "conseiller de cour" has probably nothing to do with the court. the conseiller d'etat is so far from being a member of the conseil d'etat that he cannot possibly become a member till he receives a higher tchin.* as to the privy councillor, it is sufficient to say that the privy council, which had a very odious reputation in its lifetime, died more than a century ago, and has not since been resuscitated. the explanation of these anomalies is to be found in the fact that the russian tchins, like the german honorary titles--hofrath, staatsrath, geheimrath--of which they are a literal translation, indicate not actual office, but simply official rank. formerly the appointment to an office generally depended on the tchin; now there is a tendency to reverse the old order of things and make the tchin depend upon the office actually held. * in russian the two words are quite different; the council is called gosudarstvenny sovet, and the title statski sovetnik. the reader of practical mind who is in the habit of considering results rather than forms and formalities desires probably no further description of the russian bureaucracy, but wishes to know simply how it works in practice. what has it done for russia in the past, and what is it doing in the present? at the present day, when faith in despotic civilisers and paternal government has been rudely shaken, and the advantages of a free, spontaneous national development are fully recognised, centralised bureaucracies have everywhere fallen into bad odour. in russia the dislike to them is particularly strong, because it has there something more than a purely theoretical basis. the recollection of the reign of nicholas i., with its stern military regime, and minute, pedantic formalism, makes many russians condemn in no measured terms the administration under which they live, and most englishmen will feel inclined to endorse this condemnation. before passing sentence, however, we ought to know that the system has at least an historical justification, and we must not allow our love of constitutional liberty and local self-government to blind us to the distinction between theoretical and historical possibility. what seems to political philosophers abstractly the best possible government may be utterly inapplicable in certain concrete cases. we need not attempt to decide whether it is better for humanity that russia should exist as a nation, but we may boldly assert that without a strongly centralised administration russia would never have become one of the great european powers. until comparatively recent times the part of the world which is known as the russian empire was a conglomeration of independent or semi-independent political units, animated with centrifugal as well as centripetal forces; and even at the present day it is far from being a compact homogeneous state. it was the autocratic power, with the centralised administration as its necessary complement, that first created russia, then saved her from dismemberment and political annihilation, and ultimately secured for her a place among european nations by introducing western civilisation. whilst thus recognising clearly that autocracy and a strongly centralised administration were necessary first for the creation and afterwards for the preservation of national independence, we must not shut our eyes to the evil consequences which resulted from this unfortunate necessity. it was in the nature of things that the government, aiming at the realisation of designs which its subjects neither sympathised with nor clearly understood, should have become separated from the nation; and the reckless haste and violence with which it attempted to carry out its schemes aroused a spirit of positive opposition among the masses. a considerable section of the people long looked on the reforming tsars as incarnations of the spirit of evil, and the tsars in their turn looked upon the people as raw material for the realisation of their political designs. this peculiar relation between the nation and the government has given the key-note to the whole system of administration. the government has always treated the people as minors, incapable of understanding its political aims, and only very partially competent to look after their own local affairs. the officials have naturally acted in the same spirit. looking for direction and approbation merely to their superiors, they have systematically treated those over whom they were placed as a conquered or inferior race. the state has thus come to be regarded as an abstract entity, with interests entirely different from those of the human beings composing it; and in all matters in which state interests are supposed to be involved, the rights of individuals are ruthlessly sacrificed. if we remember that the difficulties of centralised administration must be in direct proportion to the extent and territorial variety of the country to be governed, we may readily understand how slowly and imperfectly the administrative machine necessarily works in russia. the whole of the vast region stretching from the polar ocean to the caspian, and from the shores of the baltic to the confines of the celestial empire, is administered from st. petersburg. the genuine bureaucrat has a wholesome dread of formal responsibility, and generally tries to avoid it by taking all matters out of the hands of his subordinates, and passing them on to the higher authorities. as soon, therefore, as affairs are caught up by the administrative machine they begin to ascend, and probably arrive some day at the cabinet of the minister. thus the ministries are flooded with papers--many of the most trivial import--from all parts of the empire; and the higher officials, even if they had the eyes of an argus and the hands of a briareus, could not possibly fulfil conscientiously the duties imposed on them. in reality the russian administrators of the higher ranks recall neither argus nor briareus. they commonly show neither an extensive nor a profound knowledge of the country which they are supposed to govern, and seem always to have a fair amount of leisure time at their disposal. besides the unavoidable evils of excessive centralisation, russia has had to suffer much from the jobbery, venality, and extortion of the officials. when peter the great one day proposed to hang every man who should steal as much as would buy a rope, his procurator-general frankly replied that if his majesty put his project into execution there would be no officials left. "we all steal," added the worthy official; "the only difference is that some of us steal larger amounts and more openly than others." since these words were spoken nearly two centuries have passed, and during all that time russia has been steadily making progress, but until the accession of alexander ii. in little change took place in the moral character of the administration. some people still living can remember the time when they could have repeated, without much exaggeration, the confession of peter's procurator-general. to appreciate aright this ugly phenomenon we must distinguish two kinds of venality. on the one hand there was the habit of exacting what are vulgarly termed "tips" for services performed, and on the other there were the various kinds of positive dishonesty. though it might not be always easy to draw a clear line between the two categories, the distinction was fully recognised in the moral consciousness of the time, and many an official who regularly received "sinless revenues" (bezgreshniye dokhodi), as the tips were sometimes called, would have been very indignant had he been stigmatised as a dishonest man. the practice was, in fact, universal, and could be, to a certain extent, justified by the smallness of the official salaries. in some departments there was a recognised tariff. the "brandy farmers," for example, who worked the state monopoly for the manufacture and sale of alcoholic liquors, paid regularly a fixed sum to every official, from the governor to the policeman, according to his rank. i knew of one case where an official, on receiving a larger sum than was customary, conscientiously handed back the change! the other and more heinous offences were by no means so common, but were still fearfully frequent. many high officials and important dignitaries were known to receive large revenues, to which the term "sinless" could not by any means be applied, and yet they retained their position, and were received in society with respectful deference. the sovereigns were well aware of the abuses, and strove more or less to root them out, but the success which attended their efforts does not give us a very exalted idea of the practical omnipotence of autocracy. in a centralised bureaucratic administration, in which each official is to a certain extent responsible for the sins of his subordinates, it is always extremely difficult to bring an official culprit to justice, for he is sure to be protected by his superiors; and when the superiors are themselves habitually guilty of malpractices, the culprit is quite safe from exposure and punishment. the tsar, indeed, might do much towards exposing and punishing offenders if he could venture to call in public opinion to his assistance, but in reality he is very apt to become a party to the system of hushing up official delinquencies. he is himself the first official in the realm, and he knows that the abuse of power by a subordinate has a tendency to produce hostility towards the fountain of all official power. frequent punishment of officials might, it is thought, diminish public respect for the government, and undermine that social discipline which is necessary for the public tranquillity. it is therefore considered expedient to give to official delinquencies as little publicity as possible. besides this, strange as it may seem, a government which rests on the arbitrary will of a single individual is, notwithstanding occasional outbursts of severity, much less systematically severe than authority founded on free public opinion. when delinquencies occur in very high places the tsar is almost sure to display a leniency approaching to tenderness. if it be necessary to make a sacrifice to justice, the sacrificial operation is made as painless as may be, and illustrious scapegoats are not allowed to die of starvation in the wilderness--the wilderness being generally paris or the riviera. this fact may seem strange to those who are in the habit of associating autocracy with neapolitan dungeons and the mines of siberia, but it is not difficult to explain. no individual, even though he be the autocrat of all the russias, can so case himself in the armour of official dignity as to be completely proof against personal influences. the severity of autocrats is reserved for political offenders, against whom they naturally harbour a feeling of personal resentment. it is so much easier for us to be lenient and charitable towards a man who sins against public morality than towards one who sins against ourselves! in justice to the bureaucratic reformers in russia, it must be said that they have preferred prevention to cure. refraining from all draconian legislation, they have put their faith in a system of ingenious checks and a complicated formal procedure. when we examine the complicated formalities and labyrinthine procedure by which the administration is controlled, our first impression is that administrative abuses must be almost impossible. every possible act of every official seems to have been foreseen, and every possible outlet from the narrow path of honesty seems to have been carefully walled up. as the english reader has probably no conception of formal procedure in a highly centralised bureaucracy, let me give, by way of illustration, an instance which accidentally came to my knowledge. in the residence of a governor-general one of the stoves is in need of repairs. an ordinary mortal may assume that a man with the rank of governor-general may be trusted to expend a few shillings conscientiously, and that consequently his excellency will at once order the repairs to be made and the payment to be put down among the petty expenses. to the bureaucratic mind the case appears in a very different light. all possible contingencies must be carefully provided for. as a governor-general may possibly be possessed with a mania for making useless alterations, the necessity for the repairs ought to be verified; and as wisdom and honesty are more likely to reside in an assembly than in an individual, it is well to entrust the verification to a council. a council of three or four members accordingly certifies that the repairs are necessary. this is pretty strong authority, but it is not enough. councils are composed of mere human beings, liable to error and subject to be intimidated by a governor-general. it is prudent, therefore, to demand that the decision of the council be confirmed by the procureur, who is directly subordinated to the minister of justice. when this double confirmation has been obtained, an architect examines the stove, and makes an estimate. but it would be dangerous to give carte blanche to an architect, and therefore the estimate has to be confirmed, first by the aforesaid council and afterwards by the procureur. when all these formalities--which require sixteen days and ten sheets of paper--have been duly observed, his excellency is informed that the contemplated repairs will cost two roubles and forty kopecks, or about five shillings of our money. even here the formalities do not stop, for the government must have the assurance that the architect who made the estimate and superintended the repairs has not been guilty of negligence. a second architect is therefore sent to examine the work, and his report, like the estimate, requires to be confirmed by the council and the procureur. the whole correspondence lasts thirty days, and requires no less than thirty sheets of paper! had the person who desired the repairs been not a governor-general, but an ordinary mortal, it is impossible to say how long the procedure might have lasted.* * in fairness i feel constrained to add that incidents of this kind occasionally occur--or at least occurred as late as --in our indian administration. i remember an instance of a pane of glass being broken in the viceroy's bedroom in the viceregal lodge at simla, and it would have required nearly a week, if the official procedure had been scrupulously observed, to have it replaced by the public works department. it might naturally be supposed that this circuitous and complicated method, with its registers, ledgers, and minutes of proceedings, must at least prevent pilfering; but this a priori conclusion has been emphatically belied by experience. every new ingenious device had merely the effect of producing a still more ingenious means of avoiding it. the system did not restrain those who wished to pilfer, and it had a deleterious effect on honest officials by making them feel that the government reposed no confidence in them. besides this, it produced among all officials, honest and dishonest alike, the habit of systematic falsification. as it was impossible for even the most pedantic of men--and pedantry, be it remarked, is a rare quality among russians--to fulfil conscientiously all the prescribed formalities, it became customary to observe the forms merely on paper. officials certified facts which they never dreamed of examining, and secretaries gravely wrote the minutes of meetings that had never been held! thus, in the case above cited, the repairs were in reality begun and ended long before the architect was officially authorised to begin the work. the comedy was nevertheless gravely played out to the end, so that any one afterwards revising the documents would have found that everything had been done in perfect order. perhaps the most ingenious means for preventing administrative abuses was devised by the emperor nicholas i. fully aware that he was regularly and systematically deceived by the ordinary officials, he formed a body of well-paid officers, called the gendarmerie, who were scattered over the country, and ordered to report directly to his majesty whatever seemed to them worthy of attention. bureaucratic minds considered this an admirable expedient; and the tsar confidently expected that he would, by means of these official observers who had no interest in concealing the truth, be able to know everything, and to correct all official abuses. in reality the institution produced few good results, and in some respects had a very pernicious influence. though picked men and provided with good salaries, these officers were all more or less permeated with the prevailing spirit. they could not but feel that they were regarded as spies and informers--a humiliating conviction, little calculated to develop that feeling of self-respect which is the main foundation of uprightness--and that all their efforts could do but little good. they were, in fact, in pretty much the same position as peter's procurator-general, and, with true russian bonhomie, they disliked ruining individuals who were no worse than the majority of their fellows. besides this, according to the received code of official morality insubordination was a more heinous sin than dishonesty, and political offences were regarded as the blackest of all. the gendarmerie officers shut their eyes, therefore, to the prevailing abuses, which were believed to be incurable, and directed their attention to real or imaginary political delinquencies. oppression and extortion remained unnoticed, whilst an incautious word or a foolish joke at the expense of the government was too often magnified into an act of high treason. this force still exists under a slightly modified form. towards the close of the reign of alexander ii. ( ), when count loris melikof, with the sanction and approval of his august master, was preparing to introduce a system of liberal political reforms, it was intended to abolish the gendarmerie as an organ of political espionage, and accordingly the direction of it was transferred from the so-called third section of his imperial majesty's chancery to the ministry of the interior; but when the benevolent monarch was a few months afterwards assassinated by revolutionists, the project was naturally abandoned, and the corps of gendarmes, while remaining nominally under the minister of the interior, was practically reinstated in its former position. now, as then, it serves as a kind of supplement to the ordinary police, and is generally employed for matters in which secrecy is required. unfortunately it is not bound by those legal restrictions which protect the public against the arbitrary will of the ordinary authorities. in addition to its regular duties it has a vaguely defined roving commission to watch and arrest all persons who seem to it in any way dangerous or suspectes, and it may keep such in confinement for an indefinite time, or remove them to some distant and inhospitable part of the empire, without making them undergo a regular trial. it is, in short, the ordinary instrument for punishing political dreamers, suppressing secret societies, counteracting political agitations, and in general executing the extra-legal orders of the government. my relations with this anomalous branch of the administration were somewhat peculiar. after my experience with the vice-governor of novgorod i determined to place myself above suspicion, and accordingly applied to the "chef des gendarmes" for some kind of official document which would prove to all officials with whom i might come in contact that i had no illicit designs. my request was granted, and i was furnished with the necessary documents; but i soon found that in seeking to avoid scylla i had fallen into charybdis. in calming official suspicions, i inadvertently aroused suspicions of another kind. the documents proving that i enjoyed the protection of the government made many people suspect that i was an emissary of the gendarmerie, and greatly impeded me in my efforts to collect information from private sources. as the private were for me more important than the official sources of information, i refrained from asking for a renewal of the protection, and wandered about the country as an ordinary unprotected traveller. for some time i had no cause to regret this decision. i knew that i was pretty closely watched, and that my letters were occasionally opened in the post-office, but i was subjected to no further inconvenience. at last, when i had nearly forgotten all about scylla and charybdis, i one night unexpectedly ran upon the former, and, to my astonishment, found myself formally arrested! the incident happened in this wise. i had been visiting austria and servia, and after a short absence returned to russia through moldavia. on arriving at the pruth, which there forms the frontier, i found an officer of gendarmerie, whose duty it was to examine the passports of all passers-by. though my passport was completely en regle, having been duly vise by the british and russian consuls at galatz, this gentleman subjected me to a searching examination regarding my past life, actual occupation, and intentions for the future. on learning that i had been for more than two years travelling in russia at my own expense, for the simple purpose of collecting miscellaneous information, he looked incredulous, and seemed to have some doubts as to my being a genuine british subject; but when my statements were confirmed by my travelling companion, a russian friend who carried awe-inspiring credentials, he countersigned my passport, and allowed us to depart. the inspection of our luggage by the custom-house officers was soon got over; and as we drove off to the neighbouring village where we were to spend the night we congratulated ourselves on having escaped for some time from all contact with the official world. in this we were "reckoning without the host." as the clock struck twelve that night i was roused by a loud knocking at my door, and after a good deal of parley, during which some one proposed to effect an entrance by force, i drew the bolt. the officer who had signed my passport entered, and said, in a stiff, official tone, "i must request you to remain here for twenty-four hours." not a little astonished by this announcement, i ventured to inquire the reason for this strange request. "that is my business," was the laconic reply. "perhaps it is; still you must, on mature consideration, admit that i too have some interest in the matter. to my extreme regret i cannot comply with your request, and must leave at sunrise." "you shall not leave. give me your passport." "unless detained by force, i shall start at four o'clock; and as i wish to get some sleep before that time, i must request you instantly to retire. you had the right to stop me at the frontier, but you have no right to come and disturb me in this fashion, and i shall certainly report you. my passport i shall give to none but a regular officer of police." here followed a long discussion on the rights, privileges, and general character of the gendarmerie, during which my opponent gradually laid aside his dictatorial tone, and endeavoured to convince me that the honourable body to which he belonged was merely an ordinary branch of the administration. though evidently irritated, he never, i must say, overstepped the bounds of politeness, and seemed only half convinced that he was justified in interfering with my movements. when he found that he could not induce me to give up my passport, he withdrew, and i again lay down to rest; but in about half an hour i was again disturbed. this time an officer of regular police entered, and demanded my "papers." to my inquiries as to the reason of all this disturbance, he replied, in a very polite, apologetic way, that he knew nothing about the reason, but he had received orders to arrest me, and must obey. to him i delivered my passport, on condition that i should receive a written receipt, and should be allowed to telegraph to the british ambassador in st. petersburg. early next morning i telegraphed to the ambassador, and waited impatiently all day for a reply. i was allowed to walk about the village and the immediate vicinity, but of this permission i did not make much use. the village population was entirely jewish, and jews in that part of the world have a wonderful capacity for spreading intelligence. by the early morning there was probably not a man, woman, or child in the place who had not heard of my arrest, and many of them felt a not unnatural curiosity to see the malefactor who had been caught by the police. to be stared at as a malefactor is not very agreeable, so i preferred to remain in my room, where, in the company of my friend, who kindly remained with me and made small jokes about the boasted liberty of british subjects, i spent the time pleasantly enough. the most disagreeable part of the affair was the uncertainty as to how many days, weeks, or months i might be detained, and on this point the police-officer would not even hazard a conjecture. the detention came to an end sooner than i expected. on the following day--that is to say, about thirty-six hours after the nocturnal visit--the police-officer brought me my passport, and at the same time a telegram from the british embassy informed me that the central authorities had ordered my release. on my afterwards pertinaciously requesting an explanation of the unceremonious treatment to which i had been subjected, the minister for foreign affairs declared that the authorities expected a person of my name to cross the frontier about that time with a quantity of false bank-notes, and that i had been arrested by mistake. i must confess that this explanation, though official, seemed to me more ingenious than satisfactory, but i was obliged to accept it for what it was worth. at a later period i had again the misfortune to attract the attention of the secret police, but i reserve the incident till i come to speak of my relations with the revolutionists. from all i have seen and heard of the gendarmerie i am disposed to believe that the officers are for the most part polite, well-educated men, who seek to fulfil their disagreeable duties in as inoffensive a way as possible. it must, however, be admitted that they are generally regarded with suspicion and dislike, even by those people who fear the attempts at revolutionary propaganda which it is the special duty of the gendarmerie to discover and suppress. nor need this surprise us. though very many people believe in the necessity of capital punishment, there are few who do not feel a decided aversion to the public executioner. the only effectual remedy for administrative abuses lies in placing the administration under public control. this has been abundantly proved in russia. all the efforts of the tsars during many generations to check the evil by means of ingenious bureaucratic devices proved utterly fruitless. even the iron will and gigantic energy of nicholas i. were insufficient for the task. but when, after the crimean war, there was a great moral awakening, and the tsar called the people to his assistance, the stubborn, deep-rooted evils immediately disappeared. for a time venality and extortion were unknown, and since that period they have never been able to regain their old force. at the present moment it cannot be said that the administration is immaculate, but it is incomparably purer than it was in old times. though public opinion is no longer so powerful as it was in the early sixties, it is still strong enough to repress many malpractices which in the time of nicholas i. and his predecessors were too frequent to attract attention. on this subject i shall have more to say hereafter. if administrative abuses are rife in the empire of the tsars, it is not from any want of carefully prepared laws. in no country in the world, perhaps, is the legislation more voluminous, and in theory, not only the officials, but even the tsar himself, must obey the laws he has sanctioned, like the meanest of his subjects. this is one of those cases, not infrequent in russia, in which theory differs somewhat from practice. in real life the emperor may at any moment override the law by means of what is called a supreme command (vysotchaishiye povelenie), and a minister may "interpret" a law in any way he pleases by means of a circular. this is a frequent cause of complaint even among those who wish to uphold the autocratic power. in their opinion law-respecting autocracy wielded by a strong tsar is an excellent institution for russia; it is arbitrary autocracy wielded by irresponsible ministers that they object to. as englishmen may have some difficulty in imagining how laws can come into being without a parliament or legislative chamber of some sort, i shall explain briefly how they are manufactured by the russian bureaucratic machine without the assistance of representative institutions. when a minister considers that some institution in his branch of the service requires to be reformed, he begins by submitting to the emperor a formal report on the matter. if the emperor agrees with his minister as to the necessity for reform, he orders a commission to be appointed for the purpose of considering the subject and preparing a definite legislative project. the commission meets and sets to work in what seems a very thorough way. it first studies the history of the institution in russia from the earliest times downwards--or rather, it listens to an essay on the subject, especially prepared for the occasion by some official who has a taste for historical studies, and can write in a pleasant style. the next step--to use a phrase which often occurs in the minutes of such commissions--consists in "shedding the light of science on the question" (prolit' na dyelo svet nauki). this important operation is performed by preparing a memorial containing the history of similar institutions in foreign countries, and an elaborate exposition of numerous theories held by french and german philosophical jurists. in these memorials it is often considered necessary to include every european country except turkey, and sometimes the small german states and principal swiss cantons are treated separately. to illustrate the character of these wonderful productions, let me give an example. from a pile of such papers lying before me i take one almost at random. it is a memorial relating to a proposed reform of benevolent institutions. first i find a philosophical disquisition on benevolence in general; next, some remarks on the talmud and the koran; then a reference to the treatment of paupers in athens after the peloponnesian war, and in rome under the emperors: then some vague observations on the middle ages, with a quotation that was evidently intended to be latin; lastly, comes an account of the poor-laws of modern times, in which i meet with "the anglo-saxon domination," king egbert, king ethelred, "a remarkable book of icelandic laws, called hragas"; sweden and norway, france, holland, belgium, prussia, and nearly all the minor german states. the most wonderful thing is that all this mass of historical information, extending from the talmud to the most recent legislation of hesse-darmstadt, is compressed into twenty-one octavo pages! the doctrinal part of the memorandum is not less rich. many respected names from the literature of germany, france, and england are forcibly dragged in; and the general conclusion drawn from this mass of raw, undigested materials is believed to be "the latest results of science." does the reader suspect that i have here chosen an extremely exceptional case? if so, let us take the next paper in the file. it refers to a project of law regarding imprisonment for debt. on the first page i find references to "the salic laws of the fifth century," and the "assises de jerusalem, a.d ." that, i think, will suffice. let us pass, then, to the next step. when the quintessence of human wisdom and experience has thus been extracted, the commission considers how the valuable product may be applied to russia, so as to harmonise with the existing general conditions and local peculiarities. for a man of practical mind this is, of course, the most interesting and most important part of the operation, but from russian legislators it receives comparatively little attention. very often have i turned to this section of official papers in order to obtain information regarding the actual state of the country, and in every case i have been grievously disappointed. vague general phrases, founded on a priori reasoning rather than on observation, together with a few statistical tables--which the cautious investigator should avoid as he would an ambuscade--are too often all that is to be found. through the thin veil of pseudo-erudition the real facts are clear enough. these philosophical legislators, who have spent their lives in the official atmosphere of st. petersburg, know as much about russia as the genuine cockney knows about great britain, and in this part of their work they derive no assistance from the learned german treatises which supply an unlimited amount of historical facts and philosophical speculation. from the commission the project passes to the council of state, where it is certainly examined and criticised, and perhaps modified, but it is not likely to be improved from the practical point of view, because the members of the council are merely ci-devant members of similar commissions, hardened by a few additional years of official routine. the council is, in fact, an assembly of tchinovniks who know little of the practical, everyday wants of the unofficial classes. no merchant, manufacturer, or farmer ever enters its sacred precincts, so that its bureaucratic serenity is rarely disturbed by practical objections. it is not surprising, therefore, that it has been known to pass laws which were found at once to be absolutely unworkable. from the council of state the bill is taken to the emperor, and he generally begins by examining the signatures. the "ayes" are in one column and the "noes" in another. if his majesty is not specially acquainted with the matter--and he cannot possibly be acquainted with all the matters submitted to him--he usually signs with the majority, or on the side where he sees the names of officials in whose judgment he has special confidence; but if he has strong views of his own, he places his signature in whichever column he thinks fit, and it outweighs the signatures of any number of councillors. whatever side he supports, that side "has it," and in this way a small minority may be transformed into a majority. when the important question, for example, as to how far classics should be taught in the ordinary schools was considered by the council, it is said that only two members signed in favour of classical education, which was excessively unpopular at the moment, but the emperor alexander iii., disregarding public opinion and the advice of his councillors, threw his signature into the lighter scale, and the classicists were victorious. chapter xxv moscow and the slavophils two ancient cities--kief not a good point for studying old russian national life--great russians and little russians--moscow--easter eve in the kremlin--curious custom--anecdote of the emperor nicholas--domiciliary visits of the iberian madonna--the streets of moscow--recent changes in the character of the city--vulgar conception of the slavophils--opinion founded on personal acquaintance--slavophil sentiment a century ago--origin and development of the slavophil doctrine--slavophilism essentially muscovite--the panslavist element--the slavophils and the emancipation. in the last chapter, as in many of the preceding ones, the reader must have observed that at one moment there was a sudden break, almost a solution of continuity, in russian national life. the tsardom of muscovy, with its ancient oriental costumes and byzantine traditions, unexpectedly disappears, and the russian empire, clad in modern garb and animated with the spirit of modern progress, steps forward uninvited into european history. of the older civilisation, if civilisation it can be called, very little survived the political transformation, and that little is generally supposed to hover ghostlike around kief and moscow. to one or other of these towns, therefore, the student who desires to learn something of genuine old russian life, untainted by foreign influences, naturally wends his way. for my part i thought first of settling for a time in kief, the oldest and most revered of russian cities, where missionaries from byzantium first planted christianity on russian soil, and where thousands of pilgrims still assemble yearly from far and near to prostrate themselves before the holy icons in the churches and to venerate the relics of the blessed saints and martyrs in the catacombs of the great monastery. i soon discovered, however, that kief, though it represents in a certain sense the byzantine traditions so dear to the russian people, is not a good point of observation for studying the russian character. it was early exposed to the ravages of the nomadic tribes of the steppe, and when it was liberated from those incursions it was seized by the poles and lithuanians, and remained for centuries under their domination. only in comparatively recent times did it begin to recover its russian character--a university having been created there for that purpose after the polish insurrection of . even now the process of russification is far from complete, and the russian elements in the population are far from being pure in the nationalist sense. the city and the surrounding country are, in fact, little russian rather than great russian, and between these two sections of the population there are profound differences--differences of language, costume, traditions, popular songs, proverbs, folk-lore, domestic arrangements, mode of life, and communal organisation. in these and other respects the little russians, south russians, ruthenes, or khokhly, as they are variously designated, differ from the great russians of the north, who form the predominant factor in the empire, and who have given to that wonderful structure its essential characteristics. indeed, if i did not fear to ruffle unnecessarily the patriotic susceptibilities of my great russian friends who have a pet theory on this subject, i should say that we have here two distinct nationalities, further apart from each other than the english and the scotch. the differences are due, i believe, partly to ethnographical peculiarities and partly to historic conditions. as it was the energetic great russian empire-builders and not the half-dreamy, half-astute, sympathetic descendants of the free cossacks that i wanted to study, i soon abandoned my idea of settling in the holy city on the dnieper, and chose moscow as my point of observation; and here, during several years, i spent regularly some of the winter months. the first few weeks of my stay in the ancient capital of the tsars were spent in the ordinary manner of intelligent tourists. after mastering the contents of a guide-book i carefully inspected all the officially recognised objects of interest--the kremlin, with its picturesque towers and six centuries of historical associations; the cathedrals, containing the venerated tombs of martyrs, saints, and tsars; the old churches, with their quaint, archaic, richly decorated icons; the "patriarchs' treasury," rich in jewelled ecclesiastical vestments and vessels of silver and gold; the ancient and the modern palace; the ethnological museum, showing the costumes and physiognomy of all the various races in the empire; the archaeological collections, containing many objects that recall the barbaric splendour of old muscovy; the picture-gallery, with ivanof's gigantic picture, in which patriotic russian critics discover occult merits which place it above anything that western europe has yet produced! of course i climbed up to the top of the tall belfry which rejoices in the name of "ivan the great," and looked down on the "gilded domes"* of the churches, and bright green roofs of the houses, and far away, beyond these, the gently undulating country with the "sparrow hills," from which napoleon is said, in cicerone language, to have "gazed upon the doomed city." occasionally i walked about the bazaars in the hope of finding interesting specimens of genuine native art-industry, and was urgently invited to purchase every conceivable article which i did not want. at midday or in the evening i visited the most noted traktirs, and made the acquaintance of the caviar, sturgeons, sterlets, and other native delicacies for which these institutions are famous--deafened the while by the deep tones of the colossal barrel-organ, out of all proportion to the size of the room; and in order to see how the common people spent their evenings i looked in at some of the more modest traktirs, and gazed with wonder, not unmixed with fear, at the enormous quantity of weak tea which the inmates consumed. * allowance must be made here for poetical licence. in reality, very few of the domes are gilt. the great majority of them are painted green, like the roofs of the houses. since these first weeks of my sojourn in moscow more than thirty years have passed, and many of my early impressions have been blurred by time, but one scene remains deeply graven on my memory. it was easter eve, and i had gone with a friend to the kremlin to witness the customary religious ceremonies. though the rain was falling heavily, an immense number of people had assembled in and around the cathedral of the assumption. the crowd was of the most mixed kind. there stood the patient bearded muzhik in his well-worn sheepskin; the big, burly, self-satisfied merchant in his long black glossy kaftan; the noble with fashionable great-coat and umbrella; thinly clad old women shivering in the cold, and bright-eyed young damsels with their warm cloaks drawn closely round them; old men with long beard, wallet, and pilgrim's staff; and mischievous urchins with faces for the moment preternaturally demure. each right hand, of old and young alike, held a lighted taper, and these myriads of flickering little flames produced a curious illumination, giving to the surrounding buildings a weird picturesqueness which they do not possess in broad daylight. all stood patiently waiting for the announcement of the glad tidings: "he is risen!" as midnight approached, the hum of voices gradually ceased, till, as the clock struck twelve, the deep-toned bell on "ivan the great" began to toll, and in answer to this signal all the bells in moscow suddenly sent forth a merry peal. each bell--and their name is legion--seemed frantically desirous of drowning its neighbour's voice, the solemn boom of the great one overhead mingling curiously with the sharp, fussy "ting-a-ting-ting" of diminutive rivals. if demons dwell in moscow and dislike bell-ringing, as is generally supposed, then there must have been at that moment a general stampede of the powers of darkness such as is described by milton in his poem on the nativity, and as if this deafening din were not enough, big guns were fired in rapid succession from a battery of artillery close at hand! the noise seemed to stimulate the religious enthusiasm, and the general excitement had a wonderful effect on a russian friend who accompanied me. when in his normal condition that gentleman was a quiet, undemonstrative person, devoted to science, an ardent adherent of western civilisation in general and of darwinism in particular, and a thorough sceptic with regard to all forms of religious belief; but the influence of the surroundings was too much for his philosophical equanimity. for a moment his orthodox muscovite soul awoke from its sceptical, cosmopolitan lethargy. after crossing himself repeatedly--an act of devotion which i had never before seen him perform--he grasped my arm, and, pointing to the crowd, said in an exultant tone of voice, "look there! there is a sight that you can see nowhere but in the 'white-stone city.'* are not the russians a religious people?" *belokamenny, meaning "of white stone," is one of the popular names of moscow. to this unexpected question i gave a monosyllabic assent, and refrained from disturbing my friend's new-born enthusiasm by any discordant note; but i must confess that this sudden outburst of deafening noise and the dazzling light aroused in my heretical breast feelings of a warlike rather than a religious kind. for a moment i could imagine myself in ancient moscow, and could fancy the people being called out to repel a tartar horde already thundering at the gates! the service lasted two or three hours, and terminated with the curious ceremony of blessing the easter cakes, which were ranged--each one with a lighted taper stuck in it--in long rows outside of the cathedral. a not less curious custom practised at this season is that of exchanging kisses of fraternal love. theoretically one ought to embrace and be embraced by all present--indicating thereby that all are brethren in christ--but the refinements of modern life have made innovations in the practice, and most people confine their salutations to their friends and acquaintances. when two friends meet during that night or on the following day, the one says, "christos voskres!" ("christ hath risen!"); and the other replies, "vo istine voskres!" ("in truth he hath risen!"). they then kiss each other three times on the right and left cheek alternately. the custom is more or less observed in all classes of society, and the emperor himself conforms to it. this reminds me of an anecdote which is related of the emperor nicholas i., tending to show that he was not so devoid of kindly human feelings as his imperial and imperious exterior suggested. on coming out of his cabinet one easter morning he addressed to the soldier who was mounting guard at the door the ordinary words of salutation, "christ hath risen!" and received instead of the ordinary reply, a flat contradiction--"not at all, your imperial majesty!" astounded by such an unexpected answer--for no one ventured to dissent from nicholas even in the most guarded and respectful terms--he instantly demanded an explanation. the soldier, trembling at his own audacity, explained that he was a jew, and could not conscientiously admit the fact of the resurrection. this boldness for conscience' sake so pleased the tsar that he gave the man a handsome easter present. a quarter of a century after the easter eve above mentioned--or, to be quite accurate, on the th of may, --i again find myself in the kremlin on the occasion of a great religious ceremony--a ceremony which shows that "the white-stone city" on the moskva is still in some respects the capital of holy russia. this time my post of observation is inside the cathedral, which is artistically draped with purple hangings and crowded with the most distinguished personages of the empire, all arrayed in gorgeous apparel--grand dukes and grand duchesses, imperial highnesses and high excellencies, metropolitans and archbishops, senators and councillors of state, generals and court dignitaries. in the centre of the building, on a high, richly decorated platform, sits the emperor with his imperial consort, and his mother, the widowed consort of alexander iii. though nicholas ii. has not the colossal stature which has distinguished so many of the romanofs, he is well built, holds himself erect, and shows a quiet dignity in his movements; while his face, which resembles that of his cousin, the prince of wales, wears a kindly, sympathetic expression. the empress looks even more than usually beautiful, in a low dress cut in the ancient fashion, her thick brown hair, dressed most simply without jewellery or other ornaments, falling in two long ringlets over her white shoulders. for the moment, her attire is much simpler than that of the empress dowager, who wears a diamond crown and a great mantle of gold brocade, lined and edged with ermine, the long train displaying in bright-coloured embroidery the heraldic double-headed eagle of the imperial arms. each of these august personages sits on a throne of curious workmanship, consecrated by ancient historic associations. that of the emperor, the gift of the shah of persia to ivan the terrible, and commonly called the throne of tsar michael, the founder of the romanof dynasty, is covered with gold plaques, and studded with hundreds of big, roughly cut precious stones, mostly rubies, emeralds, and turquoises. of still older date is the throne of the young empress, for it was given by pope paul ii. to tsar ivan iii., grandfather of the terrible, on the occasion of his marriage with a niece of the last byzantine emperor. more recent but not less curious is that of the empress dowager. it is the throne of tsar alexis, the father of peter the great, covered with countless and priceless diamonds, rubies, and pearls, and surmounted by an imperial eagle of solid gold, together with golden statuettes of st. peter and st. nicholas, the miracle-worker. over each throne is a canopy of purple velvet fringed with gold, out of which rise stately plumes representing the national colours. their majesties have come hither, in accordance with time-honoured custom, to be crowned in this old cathedral of the assumption, the central point of the kremlin, within a stone-throw of the cathedral of the archangel michael, in which lie the remains of the old grand dukes and tsars of muscovy. already the emperor has read aloud, in a clear, unfaltering voice, from a richly bound parchment folio, held by the metropolitan of st. petersburg, the orthodox creed; and his eminence, after invoking on his majesty the blessing of the holy spirit, has performed the mystic rite of placing his hands in the form of a cross on the imperial forehead. thus all is ready for the most important part of the solemn ceremony. standing erect, the emperor doffs his small diadem and puts on with his own hands the great diamond crown, offered respectfully by the metropolitan; then he reseats himself on his throne, holding in his right hand the sceptre and in his left the orb of dominion. after sitting thus in state for a few minutes, he stands up and proceeds to crown his august spouse, kneeling before him. first he touches her forehead with his own crown, and then he places on her head a smaller one, which is immediately attached to her hair by four ladies-in-waiting, dressed in the old muscovite court-costume. at the same time her majesty is invested with a mantle of heavy gold brocade, similar to those of the emperor and empress dowager, lined and bordered with ermine. thus crowned and robed their majesties sit in state, while a proto-deacon reads, in a loud stentorian voice, the long list of sonorous hereditary titles belonging of right to the imperator and autocrat of all the russias, and the choir chants a prayer invoking long life and happiness--"many years! many years! many years!"--on the high and mighty possessor of the titles aforesaid. and now begins the mass, celebrated with a pomp and magnificence that can be witnessed only once or twice in a generation. sixty gorgeously robed ecclesiastical dignitaries of the highest orders fulfil their various functions with due solemnity and unction; but the magnificence of the vestments and the pomp of the ceremonial are soon forgotten in the exquisite solemnising music, as the deep double-bass tones of the adult singers in the background--carefully selected for the occasion in all parts of the empire--peal forth as from a great organ, and blend marvellously with the clear, soft, gentle notes of the red-robed chorister boys in front of the iconostase. listening with intense emotion, i involuntarily recall to mind fra angelico's pictures of angelic choirs, and cannot help thinking that the pious old florentine, whose soul was attuned to all that was sacred and beautiful, must have heard in imagination such music as this. so strong is the impression that the subsequent details of the long ceremony, including the anointing with the holy chrism, fail to engrave themselves on my memory. one incident, however, remains; and if it had happened in an earlier and more superstitious age it would doubtless have been chronicled as an omen full of significance. as the emperor is on the point of descending from the dais, duly crowned and anointed, a staggering ray of sunshine steals through one of the narrow upper windows and, traversing the dimly lit edifice, falls full on the imperial crown, lighting up for a moment the great mass of diamonds with a hundredfold brilliance. in a detailed account of the coronation which i wrote on leaving the kremlin, i find the following: "the magnificent ceremony is at an end, and now nicholas ii. is the crowned emperor and anointed autocrat of all the russias. may the cares of empire rest lightly on him! that must be the earnest prayer of every loyal subject and every sincere well-wisher, for of all living mortals he is perhaps the one who has been entrusted by providence with the greatest power and the greatest responsibilities." in writing those words i did not foresee how heavy his responsibilities would one day weigh upon him, when his empire would be sorely tried, by foreign war and internal discontent. one more of these old moscow reminiscences, and i have done. a day or two after the coronation i saw the khodinskoye polye, a great plain in the outskirts of moscow, strewn with hundreds of corpses! during the previous night enormous crowds from the city and the surrounding districts had collected here in order to receive at sunrise, by the tsar's command, a little memento of the coronation ceremony, in the form of a packet containing a metal cup and a few eatables; and as day dawned, in their anxiety to get near the row of booths from which the distribution was to be made, about two thousand had been crushed to death. it was a sight more horrible than a battlefield, because among the dead were a large proportion of women and children, terribly mutilated in the struggle. altogether, "a sight to shudder at, not to see!" to return to the remark of my friend in the kremlin on easter eve, the russians in general, and the muscovites in particular, as the quintessence of all that is russian, are certainly a religious people, but their piety sometimes finds modes of expression which rather shock the protestant mind. as an instance of these, i may mention the domiciliary visits of the iberian madonna. this celebrated icon, for reasons which i have never heard satisfactorily explained, is held in peculiar veneration by the muscovites, and occupies in popular estimation a position analogous to the tutelary deities of ancient pagan cities. thus when napoleon was about to enter the city in , the populace clamorously called upon the metropolitan to take the madonna, and lead them out armed with hatchets against the hosts of the infidel; and when the tsar visits moscow he generally drives straight from the railway-station to the little chapel where the icon resides--near one of the entrances to the kremlin--and there offers up a short prayer. every orthodox russian, as he passes this chapel, uncovers and crosses himself, and whenever a religious service is performed in it there is always a considerable group of worshippers. some of the richer inhabitants, however, are not content with thus performing their devotions in public before the icon. they like to have it from time to time in their houses, and the ecclesiastical authorities think fit to humour this strange fancy. accordingly every morning the iberian madonna may be seen driving about the city from one house to another in a carriage and four! the carriage may be at once recognised, not from any peculiarity in its structure, for it is an ordinary close carriage such as may be obtained at livery stables, but by the fact that the coachman sits bare-headed, and all the people in the street uncover and cross themselves as it passes. arrived at the house to which it has been invited, the icon is carried through all the rooms, and in the principal apartment a short religious service is performed before it. as it is being brought in or taken away, female servants may sometimes be seen to kneel on the floor so that it may be carried over them. during its absence from its chapel it is replaced by a copy not easily distinguishable from the original, and thus the devotions of the faithful and the flow of pecuniary contributions do not suffer interruption. these contributions, together with the sums paid for the domiciliary visits, amount to a considerable yearly sum, and go--if i am rightly informed--to swell the revenues of the metropolitan. a single drive or stroll through moscow will suffice to convince the traveller, even if he knows nothing of russian history, that the city is not, like its modern rival on the neva, the artificial creation of a far-seeing, self-willed autocrat, but rather a natural product which has grown up slowly and been modified according to the constantly changing wants of the population. a few of the streets have been europeanised--in all except the paving, which is everywhere execrably asiatic--to suit the tastes of those who have adopted european culture, but the great majority of them still retain much of their ancient character and primitive irregularity. as soon as we diverge from the principal thoroughfares, we find one-storied houses--some of them still of wood--which appear to have been transported bodily from the country, with courtyard, garden, stables, and other appurtenances. the whole is no doubt a little compressed, for land has here a certain value, but the character is in no way changed, and we have some difficulty in believing that we are not in the suburbs but near the centre of a great town. there is nothing that can by any possibility be called street architecture. though there is unmistakable evidence of the streets having been laid out according to a preconceived plan, many of them show clearly that in their infancy they had a wayward will of their own, and bent to the right or left without any topographical justification. the houses, too, display considerable individuality of character, having evidently during the course of their construction paid no attention to their neighbours. hence we find no regularly built terraces, crescents, or squares. there is, it is true, a double circle of boulevards, but the houses which flank them have none of that regularity which we commonly associate with the term. dilapidated buildings which in west-european cities would hide themselves in some narrow lane or back slum here stand composedly in the face of day by the side of a palatial residence, without having the least consciousness of the incongruity of their position, just as the unsophisticated muzhik, in his unsavoury sheepskin, can stand in the midst of a crowd of well-dressed people without feeling at all awkward or uncomfortable. all this incongruity, however, is speedily disappearing. moscow has become the centre of a great network of railways, and the commercial and industrial capital of the empire. already her rapidly increasing population has nearly reached a million.* the value of land and property is being doubled and trebled, and building speculations, with the aid of credit institutions of various kinds, are being carried on with feverish rapidity. well may the men of the old school complain that the world is turned upside down, and regret the old times of traditional somnolence and comfortable routine! those good old times are gone now, never to return. the ancient capital, which long gloried in its past historical associations, now glories in its present commercial prosperity, and looks forward with confidence to the future. even the slavophils, the obstinate champions of the ultra-muscovite spirit, have changed with the times, and descended to the level of ordinary prosaic life. these men, who formerly spent years in seeking to determine the place of moscow in the past and future history of humanity, have--to their honour be it said--become in these latter days town-counsellors, and have devoted much of their time to devising ways and means of improving the drainage and the street-paving! but i am anticipating in a most unjustifiable way. i ought first to tell the reader who these slavophils were, and why they sought to correct the commonly received conceptions of universal history. * according to the census of it was , . the reader may have heard of the slavophils as a set of fanatics who, about half a century ago, were wont to go about in what they considered the ancient russian costume, who wore beards in defiance of peter the great's celebrated ukaz and nicholas's clearly-expressed wish anent shaving, who gloried in muscovite barbarism, and had solemnly "sworn a feud" against european civilisation and enlightenment. by the tourists of the time who visited moscow they were regarded as among the most noteworthy lions of the place, and were commonly depicted in not very flattering colours. at the beginning of the crimean war they were among the extreme chauvinists who urged the necessity of planting the greek cross on the desecrated dome of st. sophia in constantinople, and hoped to see the emperor proclaimed "panslavonic tsar"; and after the termination of the war they were frequently accused of inventing turkish atrocities, stirring up discontent among the slavonic subjects of the sultan, and secretly plotting for the overthrow of the ottoman empire. all this was known to me before i went to russia, and i had consequently invested the slavophils with a halo of romance. shortly after my arrival in st. petersburg i heard something more which tended to increase my interest in them--they had caused, i was told, great trepidation among the highest official circles by petitioning the emperor to resuscitate a certain ancient institution, called zemskiye sobory, which might be made to serve the purposes of a parliament! this threw a new light upon them--under the disguise of archaeological conservatives they were evidently aiming at important liberal reforms. as a foreigner and a heretic, i expected a very cold and distant reception from these uncompromising champions of russian nationality and the orthodox faith; but in this i was agreeably disappointed. by all of them i was received in the most amiable and friendly way, and i soon discovered that my preconceived ideas of them were very far from the truth. instead of wild fanatics i found quiet, extremely intelligent, highly educated gentlemen, speaking foreign languages with ease and elegance, and deeply imbued with that western culture which they were commonly supposed to despise. and this first impression was amply confirmed by subsequent experience during several years of friendly intercourse. they always showed themselves men of earnest character and strong convictions, but they never said or did anything that could justify the appellation of fanatics. like all philosophical theorists, they often allowed their logic to blind them to facts, but their reasonings were very plausible--so plausible, indeed, that, had i been a russian they would have almost persuaded me to be a slavophil, at least during the time they were talking to me. to understand their doctrine we must know something of its origin and development. the origin of the slavophil sentiment, which must not be confounded with the slavophil doctrine, is to be sought in the latter half of the seventeenth century, when the tsars of muscovy were introducing innovations in church and state. these innovations were profoundly displeasing to the people. a large portion of the lower classes, as i have related in a previous chapter, sought refuge in old ritualism or sectarianism, and imagined that tsar peter, who called himself by the heretical title of "imperator," was an emanation of the evil principle. the nobles did not go quite so far. they remained members of the official church, and restricted themselves to hinting that peter was the son, not of satan, but of a german surgeon--a lineage which, according to the conceptions of the time, was a little less objectionable; but most of them were very hostile to the changes, and complained bitterly of the new burdens which these changes entailed. under peter's immediate successors, when not only the principles of administration but also many of the administrators were german, this hostility greatly increased. so long as the innovations appeared only in the official activity of the government, the patriotic, conservative spirit was obliged to keep silence; but when the foreign influence spread to the social life of the court aristocracy, the opposition began to find a literary expression. in the time of catherine ii., when gallomania was at its height in court circles, comedies and satirical journals ridiculed those who, "blinded by some externally brilliant gifts of foreigners, not only prefer foreign countries to their native land, but even despise their fellow-countrymen, and think that a russian ought to borrow all--even personal character. as if nature arranging all things with such wisdom, and bestowing on all regions the gifts and customs which are appropriate to the climate, had been so unjust as to refuse to the russians a character of their own! as if she condemned them to wander over all regions, and to adopt by bits the various customs of various nations, in order to compose out of the mixture a new character appropriate to no nation whatever!" numerous passages of this kind might be quoted, attacking the "monkeyism" and "parrotism" of those who indiscriminately adopted foreign manners and customs--those who "sauntered europe round, and gathered ev'ry vice in ev'ry ground." sometimes the terms and metaphors employed were more forcible than refined. one satirical journal, for instance, relates an amusing story about certain little russian pigs that went to foreign lands to enlighten their understanding, and came back to their country full-grown swine. the national pride was wounded by the thought that russians could be called "clever apes who feed on foreign intelligence," and many writers, stung by such reproaches, fell into the opposite extreme, discovering unheard-of excellences in the russian mind and character, and vociferously decrying everything foreign in order to place these imagined excellences in a stronger light by contrast. even when they recognised that their country was not quite so advanced in civilisation as certain other nations, they congratulated themselves on the fact, and invented by way of justification an ingenious theory, which was afterwards developed by the slavophils. "the nations of the west," they said, "began to live before us, and are consequently more advanced than we are; but we have on that account no reason to envy them, for we can profit by their errors, and avoid those deep-rooted evils from which they are suffering. he who has just been born is happier than he who is dying." thus, we see, a patriotic reaction against the introduction of foreign institutions and the inordinate admiration of foreign culture already existed in russia more than a century ago. it did not, however, take the form of a philosophical theory till a much later period, when a similar movement was going on in various countries of western europe. after the overthrow of the great napoleonic empire a reaction against cosmopolitanism took place and a romantic enthusiasm for nationality spread over europe like an epidemic. blind, enthusiastic patriotism became the fashionable sentiment of the time. each nation took to admiring itself complacently, to praising its own character and achievements, and to idealising its historical and mythical past. national peculiarities, "local colour," ancient customs, traditional superstitions--in short, everything that a nation believed to be specially and exclusively its own, now raised an enthusiasm similar to that which had been formerly excited by cosmopolitan conceptions founded on the law of nature. the movement produced good and evil results. in serious minds it led to a deep and conscientious study of history, national literature, popular mythology, and the like; whilst in frivolous, inflammable spirits it gave birth merely to a torrent of patriotic fervour and rhetorical exaggeration. the slavophils were the russian representatives of this nationalistic reaction, and displayed both its serious and its frivolous elements. among the most important products of this movement in germany was the hegelian theory of universal history. according to hegel's views, which were generally accepted by those who occupied themselves with philosophical questions, universal history was described as "progress in the consciousness of freedom" (fortschritt im bewusstsein der freiheit). in each period of the world's history, it was explained, some one nation or race had been intrusted with the high mission of enabling the absolute reason, or weltgeist, to express itself in objective existence, while the other nations and races had for the time no metaphysical justification for their existence, and no higher duty than to imitate slavishly the favoured rival in which the weltgeist had for the moment chosen to incorporate itself. the incarnation had taken place first in the eastern monarchies, then in greece, next in rome, and lastly in the germanic race; and it was generally assumed, if not openly asserted, that this mystical metempsychosis of the absolute was now at an end. the cycle of existence was complete. in the germanic peoples the weltgeist had found its highest and final expression. russians in general knew nothing about german philosophy, and were consequently not in any way affected by these ideas, but there was in moscow a small group of young men who ardently studied german literature and metaphysics, and they were much shocked by hegel's views. ever since the brilliant reign of catherine ii., who had defeated the turks and had dreamed of resuscitating the byzantine empire, and especially since the memorable events of - , when alexander i. appeared as the liberator of enthralled europe and the arbiter of her destinies, russians were firmly convinced that their country was destined to play a most important part in human history. already the great russian historian karamzin had declared that henceforth clio must be silent or accord to russia a prominent place in the history of the nations. now, by the hegelian theory, the whole of the slav race was left out in the cold, with no high mission, with no new truths to divulge, with nothing better to do, in fact, than to imitate the germans. the patriotic philosophers of moscow could not, of course, adopt this view. whilst accepting the fundamental principles, they declared the theory to be incomplete. the incompleteness lay in the assumption that humanity had already entered on the final stages of its development. the teutonic nations were perhaps for the moment the leaders in the march of civilisation, but there was no reason to suppose that they would always retain that privileged position. on the contrary, there were already symptoms that their ascendency was drawing to a close. "western europe," it was said, "presents a strange, saddening spectacle. opinion struggles against opinion, power against power, throne against throne. science, art, and religion, the three chief motors of social life, have lost their force. we venture to make an assertion which to many at present may seem strange, but which will be in a few years only too evident: western europe is on the highroad to ruin! we russians, on the contrary, are young and fresh, and have taken no part in the crimes of europe. we have a great mission to fulfil. our name is already inscribed on the tablets of victory, and now we have to inscribe our spirit in the history of the human mind. a higher kind of victory--the victory of science, art and faith--awaits us on the ruins of tottering europe!"* * these words were written by prince odoefski. this conclusion was supported by arguments drawn from history--or, at least, what was believed to be history. the european world was represented as being composed of two hemispheres--the eastern or graeco-slavonic on the one hand, and the western, or roman catholic and protestant, on the other. these two hemispheres, it was said, are distinguished from each other by many fundamental characteristics. in both of them christianity formed originally the basis of civilisation, but in the west it became distorted and gave a false direction to the intellectual development. by placing the logical reason of the learned above the conscience of the whole church, roman catholicism produced protestantism, which proclaimed the right of private judgment and consequently became split up into innumerable sects. the dry, logical spirit which was thus fostered created a purely intellectual, one-sided philosophy, which must end in pure scepticism, by blinding men to those great truths which lie above the sphere of reasoning and logic. the graeco-slavonic world, on the contrary, having accepted christianity not from rome, but from byzantium, received pure orthodoxy and true enlightenment, and was thus saved alike from papal tyranny and from protestant free-thinking. hence the eastern christians have preserved faithfully not only the ancient dogmas, but also the ancient spirit of christianity--that spirit of pious humility, resignation, and brotherly love which christ taught by precept and example. if they have not yet a philosophy, they will create one, and it will far surpass all previous systems; for in the writings of the greek fathers are to be found the germs of a broader, a deeper, and a truer philosophy than the dry, meagre rationalism of the west--a philosophy founded not on the logical faculty alone, but on the broader basis of human nature as a whole. the fundamental characteristics of the graeco-slavonic world--so runs the slavophil theory--have been displayed in the history of russia. throughout western christendom the principal of individual judgment and reckless individual egotism have exhausted the social forces and brought society to the verge of incurable anarchy and inevitable dissolution, whereas the social and political history of russia has been harmonious and peaceful. it presents no struggles between the different social classes, and no conflicts between church and state. all the factors have worked in unison, and the development has been guided by the spirit of pure orthodoxy. but in this harmonious picture there is one big, ugly black spot--peter, falsely styled "the great," and his so-called reforms. instead of following the wise policy of his ancestors, peter rejected the national traditions and principles, and applied to his country, which belonged to the eastern world, the principles of western civilisation. his reforms, conceived in a foreign spirit, and elaborated by men who did not possess the national instincts, were forced upon the nation against its will, and the result was precisely what might have been expected. the "broad slavonic nature" could not be controlled by institutions which had been invented by narrow-minded, pedantic german bureaucrats, and, like another samson, it pulled down the building in which foreign legislators sought to confine it. the attempt to introduce foreign culture had a still worse effect. the upper classes, charmed and dazzled by the glare and glitter of western science, threw themselves impulsively on the newly found treasures, and thereby condemned themselves to moral slavery and intellectual sterility. fortunately--and herein lay one of the fundamental principles of the slavophil doctrine--the imported civilisation had not at all infected the common people. through all the changes which the administration and the noblesse underwent the peasantry preserved religiously in their hearts "the living legacy of antiquity," the essence of russian nationality, "a clear spring welling up living waters, hidden and unknown, but powerful."* to recover this lost legacy by studying the character, customs, and institutions of the peasantry, to lead the educated classes back to the path from which they had strayed, and to re-establish that intellectual and moral unity which had been disturbed by the foreign importations--such was the task which the slavophils proposed to themselves. * this was one of the favourite themes of khomiakof, the slavophil poet and theologian. deeply imbued with that romantic spirit which distorted all the intellectual activity of the time, the slavophils often indulged in the wildest exaggerations, condemning everything foreign and praising everything russian. when in this mood they saw in the history of the west nothing but violence, slavery, and egotism, and in that of their own country free-will, liberty, and peace. the fact that russia did not possess free political institutions was adduced as a precious fruit of that spirit of christian resignation and self-sacrifice which places the russian at such an immeasurable height above the proud, selfish european; and because russia possessed few of the comforts and conveniences of common life, the west was accused of having made comfort its god! we need not, however, dwell on these puerilities, which only gained for their authors the reputation of being ignorant, narrow-minded men, imbued with a hatred of enlightenment and desirous of leading their country back to its primitive barbarism. what the slavophils really condemned, at least in their calmer moments, was not european culture, but the uncritical, indiscriminate adoption of it by their countrymen. their tirades against foreign culture must appear excusable when we remember that many russians of the upper ranks could speak and write french more correctly than their native language, and that even the great national poet pushkin was not ashamed to confess--what was not true, and a mere piece of affectation--that "the language of europe" was more familiar to him than his mother-tongue! the slavophil doctrine, though it made a great noise in the world, never found many adherents. the society of st. petersburg regarded it as one of those harmless provincial eccentricities which are always to be found in moscow. in the modern capital, with its foreign name, its streets and squares on the european model, its palaces and churches in the renaissance style, and its passionate love of everything french, any attempt to resuscitate the old boyaric times would have been eminently ridiculous. indeed, hostility to st. petersburg and to "the petersburg period of russian history" is one of the characteristic traits of genuine slavophilism. in moscow the doctrine found a more appropriate home. there the ancient churches, with the tombs of grand princes and holy martyrs, the palace in which the tsars of muscovy had lived, the kremlin which had resisted--not always successfully--the attacks of savage tartars and heretical poles, the venerable icons that had many a time protected the people from danger, the block of masonry from which, on solemn occasions, the tsar and the patriarch had addressed the assembled multitude--these, and a hundred other monuments sanctified by tradition, have kept alive in the popular memory some vague remembrance of the olden time, and are still capable of awakening antiquarian patriotism. the inhabitants, too, have preserved something of the old muscovite character. whilst successive sovereigns have been striving to make the country a progressive european empire, moscow has remained the home of passive conservatism and an asylum for the discontented, especially for the disappointed aspirants to imperial favour. abandoned by the modern emperors, she can glory in her ancient tsars. but even the muscovites were not prepared to accept the slavophil doctrine in the extreme form which it assumed, and were not a little perplexed by the eccentricities of those who professed it. plain, sensible people, though they might be proud of being citizens of the ancient capital, and might thoroughly enjoy a joke at the expense of st. petersburg, could not understand a little coterie of enthusiasts who sought neither official rank nor decorations, who slighted many of the conventionalities of the higher classes to which by birth and education they belonged, who loved to fraternise with the common people, and who occasionally dressed in the national costume which had been discarded by the nobles since the time of peter the great. the slavophils thus remained merely a small literary party, which probably did not count more than a dozen members, but their influence was out of all proportion to their numbers. they preached successfully the doctrine that the historical development of russia has been peculiar, that her present social and political organisation is radically different from that of the countries of western europe, and that consequently the social and political evils from which she suffers are not to be cured by the remedies which have proved efficacious in france and germany. these truths, which now appear commonplace, were formerly by no means generally recognised, and the slavophils deserve credit for directing attention to them. besides this, they helped to awaken in the upper classes a lively sympathy with the poor, oppressed, and despised peasantry. so long as the emperor nicholas lived they had to confine themselves to a purely literary activity; but during the great reforms initiated by his successor, alexander ii., they descended into the arena of practical politics, and played a most useful and honourable part in the emancipation of the serfs. in the new local self-government, too--the zemstvo and the new municipal institutions--they laboured energetically and to good purpose. of all this i shall have occasion to speak more fully in future chapters. but what of their panslavist aspirations? by their theory they were constrained to pay attention to the slav race as a whole, but they were more russian than slav, and more muscovite than russian. the panslavist element consequently occupied a secondary place in slavophil doctrine. though they did much to stimulate popular sympathy with the southern slavs, and always cherished the hope that the serbs, bulgarians, and cognate slav nationalities would one day throw off the bondage of the german and the turk, they never proposed any elaborate project for the solution of the eastern question. so far as i was able to gather from their conversation, they seemed to favour the idea of a grand slavonic confederation, in which the hegemony would, of course, belong to russia. in ordinary times the only steps which they took for the realisation of this idea consisted in contributing money for schools and churches among the slav population of austria and turkey, and in educating young bulgarians in russia. during the cretan insurrection they sympathised warmly with the insurgents as co-religionists, but afterwards--especially during the crisis of the eastern question which culminated in the treaty of san stefano and the congress of berlin ( )--their hellenic sympathies cooled, because the greeks showed that they had political aspirations inconsistent with the designs of russia, and that they were likely to be the rivals rather than the allies of the slavs in the struggle for the sick man's inheritance. since the time when i was living in moscow in constant intercourse with the leading slavophils more than a quarter of a century has passed, and of those with whom i spent so many pleasant evenings discussing the past history and future destinies of the slav races, not one remains alive. all the great prophets of the old slavophil doctrine--jun samarin, prince tcherkaski, ivan aksakof, kosheleff--have departed without leaving behind them any genuine disciples. the present generation of muscovite frondeurs, who continue to rail against western europe and the pedantic officialism of st. petersburg, are of a more modern and less academic type. their philippics are directed not against peter the great and his reforms, but rather against recent ministers of foreign affairs who are thought to have shown themselves too subservient to foreign powers, and against m. witte, the late minister of finance, who is accused of favouring the introduction of foreign capital and enterprise, and of sacrificing to unhealthy industrial development the interests of the agricultural classes. these laments and diatribes are allowed free expression in private conversation and in the press, but they do not influence very deeply the policy of the government or the natural course of events; for the ministry of foreign affairs continues to cultivate friendly relations with the cabinets of the west, and moscow is rapidly becoming, by the force of economic conditions, the great industrial and commercial centre of the empire. the administrative and bureaucratic centre--if anything on the frontier of a country can be called its centre--has long been, and is likely to remain, peter's stately city at the mouth of the neva, to which i now invite the reader to accompany me. chapter xxvi st. petersburg and european influence st. petersburg and berlin--big houses--the "lions"--peter the great--his aims and policy--the german regime--nationalist reaction--french influence--consequent intellectual sterility--influence of the sentimental school--hostility to foreign influences--a new period of literary importation--secret societies--the catastrophe--the age of nicholas--a terrible war on parnassus--decline of romanticism and transcendentalism--gogol--the revolutionary agitation of --new reaction--conclusion. from whatever side the traveller approaches st. petersburg, unless he goes thither by sea, he must traverse several hundred miles of forest and morass, presenting few traces of human habitation or agriculture. this fact adds powerfully to the first impression which the city makes on his mind. in the midst of a waste howling wilderness, he suddenly comes on a magnificent artificial oasis. of all the great european cities, the one that most resembles the capital of the tsars is berlin. both are built on perfectly level ground; both have wide, regularly arranged streets; in both there is a general look of stiffness and symmetry which suggests military discipline and german bureaucracy. but there is at least one profound difference. though berlin is said by geographers to be built on the spree, we might live a long time in the city without noticing the sluggish little stream on which the name of a river has been undeservedly conferred. st. petersburg, on the contrary, is built on a magnificent river, which forms the main feature of the place. by its breadth, and by the enormous volume of its clear, blue, cold water, the neva is certainly one of the noblest rivers of europe. a few miles before reaching the gulf of finland it breaks up into several streams and forms a delta. it is here that st. petersburg stands. like the river, everything in st. petersburg is on a colossal scale. the streets, the squares, the palaces, the public buildings, the churches, whatever may be their defects, have at least the attribute of greatness, and seem to have been designed for the countless generations to come, rather than for the practical wants of the present inhabitants. in this respect the city well represents the empire of which it is the capital. even the private houses are built in enormous blocks and divided into many separate apartments. those built for the working classes sometimes contain, i am assured, more than a thousand inhabitants. how many cubic feet of air is allowed to each person, i do not know; not so many, i fear, as is recommended by the most advanced sanitary authorities. for a detailed description of the city i must refer the reader to the guide books. among its numerous monuments, of which the russians are justly proud, i confess that the one which interested me most was neither st. isaac's cathedral, with its majestic gilded dome, its colossal monolithic columns of red granite, and its gaudy interior; nor the hermitage, with its magnificent collection of dutch pictures; nor the gloomy, frowning fortress of st. peter and st. paul, containing the tombs of the emperors. these and other "sights" may deserve all the praise which enthusiastic tourists have lavished upon them, but what made a far deeper impression on me was the little wooden house in which peter the great lived whilst his future capital was being built. in its style and arrangement it looks more like the hut of a navvy than the residence of a tsar, but it was quite in keeping with the character of the illustrious man who occupied it. peter could and did occasionally work like a navvy without feeling that his imperial dignity was thereby impaired. when he determined to build a new capital on a finnish marsh, inhabited chiefly by wildfowl, he did not content himself with exercising his autocratic power in a comfortable arm chair. like the greek gods, he went down from his olympus and took his place in the ranks of ordinary mortals, superintending the work with his own eyes, and taking part in it with his own hands. if he was as arbitrary and oppressive as any of the pyramid-building pharaohs, he could at least say in self-justification that he did not spare himself any more than his people, but exposed himself freely to the discomforts and dangers under which thousands of his fellow-labourers succumbed. in reading the account of peter's life, written in part by his own pen, we can easily understand how the piously conservative section of his subjects failed to recognise in him the legitimate successor of the orthodox tsars. the old tsars had been men of grave, pompous demeanour, deeply imbued with the consciousness of their semi-religious dignity. living habitually in moscow or its immediate neighbourhood, they spent their time in attending long religious services, in consulting with their boyars, in being present at ceremonious hunting-parties, in visiting the monasteries, and in holding edifying conversations with ecclesiastical dignitaries or revered ascetics. if they undertook a journey, it was probably to make a pilgrimage to some holy shrine; and, whether in moscow or elsewhere, they were always protected from contact with ordinary humanity by a formidable barricade of court ceremonial. in short, they combined the characters of a christian monk and of an oriental potentate. peter was a man of an entirely different type, and played in the calm, dignified, orthodox, ceremonious world of moscow the part of the bull in the china shop, outraging ruthlessly and wantonly all the time-honored traditional conceptions of propriety and etiquette. utterly regardless of public opinion and popular prejudices, he swept away the old formalities, avoided ceremonies of all kinds, scoffed at ancient usage, preferred foreign secular books to edifying conversations, chose profane heretics as his boon companions, travelled in foreign countries, dressed in heretical costume, defaced the image of god and put his soul in jeopardy by shaving off his beard, compelled his nobles to dress and shave like himself, rushed about the empire as if goaded on by the demon of unrest, employed his sacred hands in carpentering and other menial occupations, took part openly in the uproarious orgies of his foreign soldiery, and, in short, did everything that "the lord's anointed" might reasonably be expected not to do. no wonder the muscovites were scandalised by his conduct, and that some of them suspected he was not the tsar at all, but antichrist in disguise. and no wonder he felt the atmosphere of moscow oppressive, and preferred living in the new capital which he had himself created. his avowed object in building st. petersburg was to have "a window by which the russians might look into civilised europe"; and well has the city fulfilled its purpose. from its foundation may be dated the european period of russian history. before peter's time russia belonged to asia rather than to europe, and was doubtless regarded by englishmen and frenchmen pretty much as we nowadays regard bokhara or kashgar; since that time she has formed an integral part of the european political system, and her intellectual history has been but a reflection of the intellectual history of western europe, modified and coloured by national character and by peculiar local conditions. when we speak of the intellectual history of a nation we generally mean in reality the intellectual history of the upper classes. with regard to russia, more perhaps than with regard to any other country, this distinction must always carefully be borne in mind. peter succeeded in forcing european civilisation on the nobles, but the people remained unaffected. the nation was, as it were, cleft in two, and with each succeeding generation the cleft has widened. whilst the masses clung obstinately to their time-honoured customs and beliefs, the nobles came to look on the objects of popular veneration as the relics of a barbarous past, of which a civilised nation ought to be ashamed. the intellectual movement inaugurated by peter had a purely practical character. he was himself a thorough utilitarian, and perceived clearly that what his people needed was not theological or philosophical enlightment, but plain, practical knowledge suitable for the requirements of everyday life. he wanted neither theologians nor philosophers, but military and naval officers, administrators, artisans, miners, manufacturers, and merchants, and for this purpose he introduced secular technical education. for the young generation primary schools were founded, and for more advanced pupils the best foreign works on fortification, architecture, navigation, metallurgy, engineering and cognate subjects were translated into the native tongue. scientific men and cunning artificers were brought into the country, and young russians were sent abroad to learn foreign languages and the useful arts. in a word, everything was done that seemed likely to raise the russians to the level of material well-being already attained by the more advanced nations. we have here an important peculiarity in the intellectual development of russia. in western europe the modern scientific spirit, being the natural offspring of numerous concomitant historical causes, was born in the natural way, and society had, consequently, before giving birth to it, to endure the pains of pregnancy and the throes of prolonged labour. in russia, on the contrary, this spirit appeared suddenly as an adult foreigner, adopted by a despotic paterfamilias. thus russia made the transition from mediaeval to modern times without any violent struggle between the old and the new conceptions such as had taken place in the west. the church, effectually restrained from all active opposition by the imperial power, preserved unmodified her ancient beliefs; whilst the nobles, casting their traditional conceptions and beliefs to the winds, marched forward unfettered on that path which their fathers and grandfathers had regarded as the direct road to perdition. during the first part of peter's reign russia was not subjected to the exclusive influence of any one particular country. thoroughly cosmopolitan in his sympathies, the great reformer, like the japanese of the present day, was ready to borrow from any foreign nation--german, dutch, danish, or french--whatever seemed to him to suit his purpose. but soon the geographical proximity to germany, the annexation of the baltic provinces in which the civilisation was german, and intermarriages between the imperial family and various german dynasties, gave to german influence a decided preponderance. when the empress anne, peter's niece, who had been duchess of courland, entrusted the whole administration of the country to her favourite biron, the german influence became almost exclusive, and the court, the official world, and the schools were germanised. the harsh, cruel, tyrannical rule of biron produced a strong reaction, ending in a revolution, which raised to the throne the princess elizabeth, peter's unmarried daughter, who had lived in retirement and neglect during the german regime. she was expected to rid the country of foreigners, and she did what she could to fulfil the expectations that were entertained of her. with loud protestations of patriotic feelings, she removed the germans from all important posts, demanded that in future the members of the academy should be chosen from among born russians, and gave orders that the russian youth should be carefully prepared for all kinds of official activity. this attempt to throw off the german bondage did not lead to intellectual independence. during peter's violent reforms russia had ruthlessly thrown away her own historic past with whatever germs it contained, and now she possessed none of the elements of a genuine national culture. she was in the position of a fugitive who has escaped from slavery, and, finding himself in danger of starvation, looks about for a new master. the upper classes, who had acquired a taste for foreign civilisation, no sooner threw off everything german than they sought some other civilisation to put in its place. and they could not long hesitate in making a choice, for at that time all who thought of culture and refinement turned their eyes to paris and versailles. all that was most brilliant and refined was to be found at the court of the french kings, under whose patronage the art and literature of the renaissance had attained their highest development. even germany, which had resisted the ambitious designs of louis xiv., imitated the manners of his court. every petty german potentate strove to ape the pomp and dignity of the grand monarque; and the courtiers, affecting to look on everything german as rude and barbarous, adopted french fashions, and spoke a hybrid jargon which they considered much more elegant than the plain mother tongue. in a word, gallomania had become the prevailing social epidemic of the time, and it could not fail to attack and metamorphose such a class as the russian noblesse, which possessed few stubborn deep-rooted national convictions. at first the french influence was manifested chiefly in external forms--that is to say, in dress, manners, language, and upholstery--but gradually, and very rapidly after the accession of catherine ii., the friend of voltaire and the encyclopaedists, it sank deeper. every noble who had pretensions to being "civilised" learned to speak french fluently, and gained some superficial acquaintance with french literature. the tragedies of corneille and racine and the comedies of moliere were played regularly at the court theatre in presence of the empress, and awakened a real or affected enthusiasm among the audience. for those who preferred reading in their native language, numerous translations were published, a simple list of which would fill several pages. among them we find not only voltaire, rousseau, lesage, marmontel, and other favourite french authors, but also all the masterpieces of european literature, ancient and modern, which at that time enjoyed a high reputation in the french literary world--homer and demosthenes, cicero and virgil, ariosto and camoens, milton and locke, sterne and fielding. it is related of byron that he never wrote a description whilst the scene was actually before him; and this fact points to an important psychological principle. the human mind, so long as it is compelled to strain the receptive faculties, cannot engage in that "poetic" activity--to use the term in its greek sense--which is commonly called "original creation." and as with individuals, so with nations. by accepting in a lump a foreign culture a nation inevitably condemns itself for a time to intellectual sterility. so long as it is occupied in receiving and assimilating a flood of new ideas, unfamiliar conceptions, and foreign modes of thought, it will produce nothing original, and the result of its highest efforts will be merely successful imitation. we need not be surprised therefore to find that the russians, in becoming acquainted with foreign literature, became imitators and plagiarists. in this kind of work their natural pliancy of mind and powerful histrionic talent made them wonderfully successful. odes, pseudo-classical tragedies, satirical comedies, epic poems, elegies, and all the other recognised forms of poetical composition, appeared in great profusion, and many of the writers acquired a remarkable command over their native language, which had hitherto been regarded as uncouth and barbarous. but in all this mass of imitative literature, which has since fallen into well-merited oblivion, there are very few traces of genuine originality. to obtain the title of the russian racine, the russian lafontaine, the russian pindar, or the russian homer, was at that time the highest aim of russian literary ambition. together with the fashionable literature the russian educated classes adopted something of the fashionable philosophy. they were peculiarly unfitted to resist that hurricane of "enlightenment" which swept over europe during the latter half of the eighteenth century, first breaking or uprooting the received philosophical systems, theological conceptions, and scientific theories, and then shaking to their foundations the existing political and social institutions. the russian noblesse had neither the traditional conservative spirit, nor the firm, well-reasoned, logical beliefs which in england and germany formed a powerful barrier against the spread of french influence. they had been too recently metamorphosed, and were too eager to acquire a foreign civilisation, to have even the germs of a conservative spirit. the rapidity and violence with which peter's reforms had been effected, together with the peculiar spirit of greek orthodoxy and the low intellectual level of the clergy, had prevented theology from associating itself with the new order of things. the upper classes had become estranged from the beliefs of their forefathers without acquiring other beliefs to supply the place of those which had been lost. the old religious conceptions were inseparably interwoven with what was recognised as antiquated and barbarous, whilst the new philosophical ideas were associated with all that was modern and civilised. besides this, the sovereign, catherine ii., who enjoyed the unbounded admiration of the upper classes, openly professed allegiance to the new philosophy, and sought the advice and friendship of its high priests. if we bear in mind these facts we shall not be surprised to find among the russian nobles of that time a considerable number of so-called "voltaireans" and numerous unquestioning believers in the infallibility of the encyclopedie. what is a little more surprising is, that the new philosophy sometimes found its way into the ecclesiastical seminaries. the famous speranski relates that in the seminary of st. petersburg one of his professors, when not in a state of intoxication, was in the habit of preaching the doctrines of voltaire and diderot! the rise of the sentimental school in western europe produced an important change in russian literature, by undermining the inordinate admiration for the french pseudo-classical school. florian, richardson, sterne, rousseau, and bernardin de st. pierre found first translators, and then imitators, and soon the loud-sounding declamation and wordy ecstatic despair of the stage heroes were drowned in the deep-drawn sighs and plaintive wailings of amorous swains and peasant-maids forsaken. the mania seems to have been in russia even more severe than in the countries where it originated. full-grown, bearded men wept because they had not been born in peaceful primitive times, "when all men were shepherds and brothers." hundreds of sighing youths and maidens visited the scenes described by the sentimental writers, and wandered by the rivers and ponds in which despairing heroines had drowned themselves. people talked, wrote, and meditated about "the sympathy of hearts created for each other," "the soft communion of sympathetic souls," and much more of the same kind. sentimental journeys became a favourite amusement, and formed the subject of very popular books, containing maudlin absurdities likely to produce nowadays mirth rather than tears. one traveller, for instance, throws himself on his knees before an old oak and makes a speech to it; another weeps daily on the grave of a favourite dog, and constantly longs to marry a peasant girl; a third talks love to the moon, sends kisses to the stars, and wishes to press the heavenly orbs to his bosom! for a time the public would read nothing but absurd productions of this sort, and karamzin, the great literary authority of the time, expressly declared that the true function of art was "to disseminate agreeable impressions in the region of the sentimental." the love of french philosophy vanished as suddenly as the inordinate admiration of the french pseudo-classical literature. when the great revolution broke out in paris the fashionable philosophic literature in st. petersburg disappeared. men who talked about political freedom and the rights of man, without thinking for a moment of limiting the autocratic power or of emancipating their serfs, were naturally surprised and frightened on discovering what the liberal principles could effect when applied to real life. horrified by the awful scenes of the terror, they hastened to divest themselves of the principles which led to such results, and sank into a kind of optimistic conservatism that harmonised well with the virtuous sentimentalism in vogue. in this the empress herself gave the example. the imperial disciple and friend of the encyclopaedists became in the last years of her reign a decided reactionnaire. during the napoleonic wars, when the patriotic feelings were excited, there was a violent hostility to foreign intellectual influence; and feeble intermittent attempts were made to throw off the intellectual bondage. the invasion of the country in by the grande armee, and the burning of moscow, added abundant fuel to this patriotic fire. for some time any one who ventured to express even a moderate admiration for french culture incurred the risk of being stigmatised as a traitor to his country and a renegade to the national faith. but this patriotic fanaticism soon evaporated, and exaggerations of the ultra-national party became the object of satire and parody. when the political danger was past, and people resumed their ordinary occupations, those who loved foreign literature returned to their old favourites--or, as the ultra-patriots called it, to their "wallowing in the mire"--simply because the native literature did not supply them with what they desired. "we are quite ready," they said to their upbraiders, "to admire your great works as soon as they appear, but in the meantime please allow us to enjoy what we possess." thus in the last years of the reign of alexander i. the patriotic opposition to west european literature gradually ceased, and a new period of unrestricted intellectual importation began. the intellectual merchandise now brought into the country was very different from that which had been imported in the time of catherine. the french revolution, the napoleonic domination, the patriotic wars, the restoration of the bourbons, and the other great events of that memorable epoch, had in the interval produced profound changes in the intellectual as well as the political condition of western europe. during the napoleonic wars russia had become closely associated with germany; and now the peculiar intellectual fermentation which was going on among the german educated classes was reflected in the society of st. petersburg. it did not appear, indeed, in the printed literature, for the press-censure had been recently organised on the principles laid down by metternich, but it was none the less violent on that account. whilst the periodicals were filled with commonplace meditations on youth, spring, the love of art, and similar innocent topics, the young generation was discussing in the salons all the burning questions which metternich and his adherents were endeavouring to extinguish. these discussions, if discussions they might be called, were not of a very serious kind. in true dilettante style the fashionable young philosophers culled from the newest books the newest thoughts and theories, and retailed them in the salon or the ballroom. and they were always sure to find attentive listeners. the more astounding the idea or dogma, the more likely was it to be favourably received. no matter whether it came from the rationalists, the mystics, the freemasons, or the methodists, it was certain to find favour, provided it was novel and presented in an elegant form. the eclectic minds of that curious time could derive equal satisfaction from the brilliant discourses of the reactionary jesuitical de maistre, the revolutionary odes of pushkin, and the mysticism of frau von krudener. for the majority the vague theosophic doctrines and the projects for a spiritual union of governments and peoples had perhaps the greatest charm, being specially commended by the fact that they enjoyed the protection and sympathy of the emperor. pious souls discovered in the mystical lucubrations of jung-stilling and baader the final solution of all existing difficulties--political, social, and philosophical. men of less dreamy temperament put their faith in political economy and constitutional theories, and sought a foundation for their favourite schemes in the past history of the country and in the supposed fundamental peculiarities of the national character. like the young german democrats, who were then talking enthusiastically about teutons, cheruskers, skalds, the shade of arminius, and the heroes of the niebelungen, these young russian savants recognised in early russian history--when reconstructed according to their own fancy--lofty political ideals, and dreamed of resuscitating the ancient institutions in all their pristine imaginary splendour. each age has its peculiar social and political panaceas. one generation puts its trust in religion, another in philanthropy, a third in written constitutions, a fourth in universal suffrage, a fifth in popular education. in the epoch of the restoration, as it is called, the favourite panacea all over the continent was secret political association. very soon after the overthrow of napoleon the peoples who had risen in arms to obtain political independence discovered that they had merely changed masters. the princes reconstructed europe according to their own convenience, without paying much attention to patriotic aspirations, and forgot their promises of liberal institutions as soon as they were again firmly seated on their thrones. this was naturally for many a bitter deception. the young generation, excluded from all share in political life and gagged by the stringent police supervision, sought to realise its political aspirations by means of secret societies, resembling more or less the masonic brotherhoods. there were the burschenschaften in germany; the union, and the "aide toi et le ciel t'aidera," in france; the order of the hammer in spain; the carbonari in italy; and the hetairai in greece. in russia the young nobles followed the prevailing fashion. secret societies were formed, and in december, , an attempt was made to raise a military insurrection in st. petersburg, for the purpose of deposing the imperial family and proclaiming a republic; but the attempt failed, and the vague utopian dreams of the romantic would-be reformers were swept away by grape-shot. this "december catastrophe," still vividly remembered, was for the society of st. petersburg like the giving way of the floor in a crowded ball-room. but a moment before, all had been animated, careless, and happy; now consternation was depicted on every face. the salons, that but yesterday had been ringing with lively discussions on morals, aesthetics, politics, and theology, were now silent and deserted. many of those who had been wont to lead the causeries had been removed to the cells of the fortress, and those who had not been arrested trembled for themselves or their friends; for nearly all had of late dabbled more or less in the theory and practice of revolution. the announcement that five of the conspirators had been condemned to the gallows and the others sentenced to transportation did not tend to calm the consternation. society was like a discomfited child, who, amidst the delight and excitement of letting off fireworks, has had its fingers severely burnt. the sentimental, wavering alexander i. had been succeeded by his stern, energetic brother nicholas, and the command went forth that there should be no more fireworks, no more dilettante philosophising or political aspirations. there was, however, little need for such an order. society had been, for the moment at least, effectually cured of all tendencies to political dreaming. it had discovered, to its astonishment and dismay, that these new ideas, which were to bring temporal salvation to humanity, and to make all men happy, virtuous, refined, and poetical, led in reality to exile and the scaffold! the pleasant dream was at an end, and the fashionable world, giving up its former habits, took to harmless occupations--card-playing, dissipation, and the reading of french light literature. "the french quadrille," as a writer of the time tersely expresses it, "has taken the place of adam smith." when the storm had passed, the life of the salons began anew, but it was very different from what it had been. there was no longer any talk about political economy, theology, popular education, administrative abuses, social and political reforms. everything that had any relation to politics in the wider sense of the term was by tacit consent avoided. discussions there were as of old, but they were now confined to literary topics, theories of art, and similar innocent subjects. this indifference or positive repugnance to philosophy and political science, strengthened and prolonged by the repressive system of administration adopted by nicholas, was of course fatal to the many-sided intellectual activity which had flourished during the preceding reign, but it was by no means unfavourable to the cultivation of imaginative literature. on the contrary, by excluding those practical interests which tend to disturb artistic production and to engross the attention of the public, it fostered what was called in the phraseology of that time "the pure-hearted worship of the muses." we need not, therefore, be surprised to find that the reign of nicholas, which is commonly and not unjustly described as an epoch of social and intellectual stagnation, may be called in a certain sense the golden age of russian literature. already in the preceding reign the struggle between the classical and the romantic school--between the adherents of traditional aesthetic principles and the partisans of untrammelled poetic inspiration--which was being carried on in western europe, was reflected in russia. a group of young men belonging to the aristocratic society of st. petersburg embraced with enthusiasm the new doctrines, and declared war against "classicism," under which term they understood all that was antiquated, dry, and pedantic. discarding the stately, lumbering, unwieldy periods which had hitherto been in fashion, they wrote a light, elastic, vigorous style, and formed a literary society for the express purpose of ridiculing the most approved classical writers. the new principles found many adherents, and the new style many admirers, but this only intensified the hostility of the literary conservatives. the staid, respectable leaders of the old school, who had all their lives kept the fear of boileau before their eyes and considered his precepts as the infallible utterances of aesthetic wisdom, thundered against the impious innovations as unmistakable symptoms of literary decline and moral degeneracy--representing the boisterous young iconoclasts as dissipated don juans and dangerous freethinkers. thus for some time in russia, as in western europe, "a terrible war raged on parnassus." at first the government frowned at the innovators, on account of certain revolutionary odes which one of their number had written; but when the romantic muse, having turned away from the present as essentially prosaic, went back into the distant past and soared into the region of sublime abstractions, the most keen-eyed press censors found no reason to condemn her worship, and the authorities placed almost no restrictions on free poetic inspiration. romantic poetry acquired the protection of the government and the patronage of the court, and the names of zhukofski, pushkin, and lermontof--the three chief representatives of the russian romantic school--became household words in all ranks of the educated classes. these three great luminaries of the literary world were of course attended by a host of satellites of various magnitudes, who did all in their power to refute the romantic principles by reductiones ad absurdum. endowed for the most part with considerable facility of composition, the poetasters poured forth their feelings with torrential recklessness, demanding freedom for their inspiration, and cursing the age that fettered them with its prosaic cares, its cold reason, and its dry science. at the same time the dramatists and novelists created heroes of immaculate character and angelic purity, endowed with all the cardinal virtues in the superlative degree; and, as a contrast to these, terrible satanic personages with savage passions, gleaming daggers, deadly poisons, and all manner of aimless melodramatic villainy. these stilted productions, interspersed with light satirical essays, historical sketches, literary criticism, and amusing anecdotes, formed the contents of the periodical literature, and completely satisfied the wants of the reading public. almost no one at that time took any interest in public affairs or foreign politics. the acts of the government which were watched most attentively were the promotions in the service and the conferring of decorations. the publication of a new tale by zagoskin or marlinski--two writers now well-nigh forgotten--seemed of much greater importance than any amount of legislation, and such events as the french revolution of paled before the publication of a new poem by pushkin. the transcendental philosophy, which in germany went hand in hand with the romantic literature, found likewise a faint reflection in russia. a number of young professors and students in moscow, who had become ardent admirers of german literature, passed from the works of schiller, goethe, and hoffmann to the writing of schelling and hegel. trained in the romantic school, these young philosophers found at first a special charm in schelling's mystical system, teeming with hazy poetical metaphors, and presenting a misty grandiose picture of the universe; but gradually they felt the want of some logical basis for their speculations, and hegel became their favourite. gallantly they struggled with the uncouth terminology and epigrammatic paradoxes of the great thinker, and strove to force their way through the intricate mazes of his logical formulae. with the ardour of neophytes they looked at every phenomenon--even the most trivial incident of common life--from the philosophical point of view, talked day and night about principles, ideas, subjectivity, weltauffassung, and similar abstract entities, and habitually attacked the "hydra of unphilosophy" by analysing the phenomena presented and relegating the ingredient elements to the recognised categories. in ordinary life they were men of quiet, grave, contemplative demeanour, but their faces could flush and their blood boil when they discussed the all-important question, whether it is possible to pass logically from pure being through nonentity to the conception of development and definite existence! we know how in western europe romanticism and transcendentalism, in their various forms, sank into oblivion, and were replaced by a literature which had a closer connection with ordinary prosaic wants and plain everyday life. the educated public became weary of the romantic writers, who were always "sighing like a furnace," delighting in solitude, cold eternity, and moonshine, deluging the world with their heart-gushings, and calling on the heavens and the earth to stand aghast at their promethean agonising or their wertherean despair. healthy human nature revolted against the poetical enthusiasts who had lost the faculty of seeing things in their natural light, and who constantly indulged in that morbid self-analysis which is fatal to genuine feeling and vigorous action. and in this healthy reaction the philosophers fared no better than the poets, with whom, indeed, they had much in common. shutting their eyes to the visible world around them, they had busied themselves with burrowing in the mysterious depths of absolute being, grappling with the ego and the non-ego, constructing the great world, visible and invisible, out of their own puny internal self-consciousness, endeavouring to appropriate all departments of human thought, and imparting to every subject they touched the dryness and rigidity of an algebraical formula. gradually men with real human sympathies began to perceive that from all this philosophical turmoil little real advantage was to be derived. it became only too evident that the philosophers were perfectly reconciled with all the evil in the world, provided it did not contradict their theories; that they were men of the same type as the physician in moliere's comedy, whose chief care was that his patients should die selon les ordonnances de la medicine. in russia the reaction first appeared in the aesthetic literature. its first influential representative was gogol (b. , d. ), who may be called, in a certain sense, the russian dickens. a minute comparison of those two great humourists would perhaps show as many points of contrast as of similarity, but there is a strong superficial resemblance between them. they both possessed an inexhaustible supply of broad humour and an imagination of singular vividness. both had the power of seeing the ridiculous side of common things, and the talent of producing caricatures that had a wonderful semblance of reality. a little calm reflection would suffice to show that the characters presented are for the most part psychological impossibilities; but on first making their acquaintance we are so struck with one or two life-like characteristics and various little details dexterously introduced, and at the same time we are so carried away by the overflowing fun of the narrative, that we have neither time nor inclination to use our critical faculties. in a very short time gogol's fame spread throughout the length and breadth of the empire, and many of his characters became as familiar to his countrymen as sam weller and mrs. gamp were to englishmen. his descriptions were so graphic--so like the world which everybody knew! the characters seemed to be old acquaintances hit off to the life; and readers revelled in that peculiar pleasure which most of us derive from seeing our friends successfully mimicked. even the iron tsar could not resist the fun and humour of "the inspector" (revizor), and not only laughed heartily, but also protected the author against the tyranny of the literary censors, who considered that the piece was not written in a sufficiently "well-intentioned" tone. in a word, the reading public laughed as it had never laughed before, and this wholesome genuine merriment did much to destroy the morbid appetite for byronic heroes and romantic affectation. the romantic muse did not at once abdicate, but with the spread of gogol's popularity her reign was practically at an end. in vain some of the conservative critics decried the new favourite as talentless, prosaic, and vulgar. the public were not to be robbed of their amusement for the sake of any abstract aesthetic considerations; and young authors, taking gogol for their model, chose their subjects from real life, and endeavoured to delineate with minute truthfulness. this new intellectual movement was at first purely literary, and affected merely the manner of writing novels, tales, and poems. the critics who had previously demanded beauty of form and elegance of expression now demanded accuracy of description, condemned the aspirations towards so-called high art, and praised loudly those who produced the best literary photographs. but authors and critics did not long remain on this purely aesthetic standpoint. the authors, in describing reality, began to indicate moral approval and condemnation, and the critics began to pass from the criticism of the representations to the criticism of the realities represented. a poem or a tale was often used as a peg on which to hang a moral lecture, and the fictitious characters were soundly rated for their sins of omission and commission. much was said about the defence of the oppressed, female emancipation, honour, and humanitarianism; and ridicule was unsparingly launched against all forms of ignorance, apathy, and the spirit of routine. the ordinary refrain was that the public ought now to discard what was formerly regarded as poetical and sublime, and to occupy itself with practical concerns--with the real wants of social life. the literary movement was thus becoming a movement in favour of social and political reforms when it was suddenly arrested by political events in the west. the february revolution in paris, and the political fermentation which appeared during - in almost every country of europe, alarmed the emperor nicholas and his counsellors. a russian army was sent into austria to suppress the hungarian insurrection and save the hapsburg dynasty, and the most stringent measures were taken to prevent disorders at home. one of the first precautions for the preservation of domestic tranquillity was to muzzle the press more firmly than before, and to silence the aspirations towards reform and progress; thenceforth nothing could be printed which was not in strict accordance with the ultra-patriotic theory of russian history, as expressed by a leading official personage: "the past has been admirable, the present is more than magnificent, and the future will surpass all that the human imagination can conceive!" the alarm caused by the revolutionary disorders spread to the non-official world, and gave rise to much patriotic self-congratulation. "the nations of the west," it was said, "envy us, and if they knew us better--if they could see how happy and prosperous we are--they would envy us still more. we ought not, however, to withdraw from europe our solicitude; its hostility should not deprive us of our high mission of saving order and restoring rest to the nations; we ought to teach them to obey authority as we do. it is for us to introduce the saving principle of order into a world that has fallen a prey to anarchy. russia ought not to abandon that mission which has been entrusted to her by the heavenly and by the earthly tsar."* * these words were written by tchaadaef, who, a few years before, had vigorously attacked the slavophils for enouncing similar views. men who saw in the significant political eruption of nothing but an outburst of meaningless, aimless anarchy, and who believed that their country was destined to restore order throughout the civilised world, had of course little time or inclination to think of putting their own house in order. no one now spoke of the necessity of social reorganisation: the recently awakened aspirations and expectations seemed to be completely forgotten. the critics returned to their old theory that art and literature should be cultivated for their own sake and not used as a vehicle for the propagation of ideas foreign to their nature. it seemed, in short, as if all the prolific ideas which had for a time occupied the public attention had been merely "writ in water," and had now disappeared without leaving a trace behind them. in reality the new movement was destined to reappear very soon with tenfold force; but the account of its reappearance and development belongs to a future chapter. meanwhile i may formulate the general conclusion to be drawn from the foregoing pages. ever since the time of peter the great there has been such a close connection between russia and western europe that every intellectual movement which has appeared in france and germany has been reflected--albeit in an exaggerated, distorted form--in the educated society of st. petersburg and moscow. thus the window which peter opened in order to enable his subjects to look into europe has well served its purpose. chapter xxvii the crimean war and its consequences the emperor nicholas and his system--the men with aspirations and the apathetically contented--national humiliation--popular discontent and the manuscript literature--death of nicholas--alexander ii.--new spirit--reform enthusiasm--change in the periodical literature--the kolokol--the conservatives--the tchinovniks--first specific proposals--joint-stock companies--the serf question comes to the front. the russians frankly admit that they were beaten in the crimean war, but they regard the heroic defence of sebastopol as one of the most glorious events in the military annals of their country. nor do they altogether regret the result of the struggle. often in a half-jocular, half-serious tone they say that they had reason to be grateful to the allies. and there is much truth in this paradoxical statement. the crimean war inaugurated a new epoch in the national history. it gave the death-blow to the repressive system of the emperor nicholas, and produced an intellectual movement and a moral revival which led to gigantic results. "the affair of december," --i mean the abortive attempt at a military insurrection in st. petersburg, to which i have alluded in the foregoing chapter--gave the key-note to nicholas's reign. the armed attempt to overthrow the imperial power, ending in the execution or exile of many young members of the first families, struck terror into the noblesse, and prepared the way for a period of repressive police administration. nicholas had none of the moral limpness and vacillating character of his predecessor. his was one of those simple, vigorous, tenacious, straightforward natures--more frequently to be met with among the teutonic than among the slav races--whose conceptions are all founded on a few deep-rooted, semi-instinctive convictions, and who are utterly incapable of accommodating themselves with histrionic cleverness to the changes of external circumstances. from his early youth he had shown a strong liking for military discipline and a decided repugnance to the humanitarianism and liberal principles then in fashion. with "the rights of man," "the spirit of the age," and similar philosophical abstractions his strong, domineering nature had no sympathy; and for the vague, loud-sounding phrases of philosophic liberalism he had a most profound contempt. "attend to your military duties," he was wont to say to his officers before his accession; "don't trouble your heads with philosophy. i cannot bear philosophers!" the tragic event which formed the prelude to his reign naturally confirmed and fortified his previous convictions. the representatives of liberalism, who could talk so eloquently about duty in the abstract, had, whilst wearing the uniform of the imperial guard, openly disobeyed the repeated orders of their superior officers and attempted to shake the allegiance of the troops for the purpose of overthrowing the imperial power! a man who was at once soldier and autocrat, by nature as well as by position, could of course admit no extenuating circumstances. the incident stereotyped his character for life, and made him the sworn enemy of liberalism and the fanatical defender of autocracy, not only in his own country, but throughout europe. in european politics he saw two forces struggling for mastery--monarchy and democracy, which were in his opinion identical with order and anarchy; and he was always ready to assist his brother sovereigns in putting down democratic movements. in his own empire he endeavoured by every means in his power to prevent the introduction of the dangerous ideas. for this purpose a stringent intellectual quarantine was established on the western frontier. all foreign books and newspapers, except those of the most harmless kind, were rigorously excluded. native writers were placed under strict supervision, and peremptorily silenced as soon as they departed from what was considered a "well-intentioned" tone. the number of university students was diminished, the chairs for political science were suppressed, and the military schools multiplied. russians were prevented from travelling abroad, and foreigners who visited the country were closely watched by the police. by these and similar measures it was hoped that russia would be preserved from the dangers of revolutionary agitation. nicholas has been called the don quixote of autocracy, and the comparison which the term implies is true in many points. by character and aims he belonged to a time that had passed away; but failure and mishap could not shake his faith in his ideal, and made no change in his honest, stubborn nature, which was as loyal and chivalresque as that of the ill-fated knight of la mancha. in spite of all evidence to the contrary, he believed in the practical omnipotence of autocracy. he imagined that as his authority was theoretically unlimited, so his power could work miracles. by nature and training a soldier, he considered government a slightly modified form of military discipline, and looked on the nation as an army which might be made to perform any intellectual or economic evolutions that he might see fit to command. all social ills seemed to him the consequence of disobedience to his orders, and he knew only one remedy--more discipline. any expression of doubt as to the wisdom of his policy, or any criticism of existing regulations, he treated as an act of insubordination which a wise sovereign ought not to tolerate. if he never said, "l'etat--c'est moi!" it was because he considered the fact so self-evident that it did not need to be stated. hence any attack on the administration, even in the person of the most insignificant official, was an attack on himself and on the monarchical principle which he represented. the people must believe--and faith, as we know, comes not by sight--that they lived under the best possible government. to doubt this was political heresy. an incautious word or a foolish joke against the government was considered a serious crime, and might be punished by a long exile in some distant and inhospitable part of the empire. progress should by all means be made, but it must be made by word of command, and in the way ordered. private initiative in any form was a thing on no account to be tolerated. nicholas never suspected that a ruler, however well-intentioned, energetic, and legally autocratic he may be, can do but little without the co-operation of his people. experience constantly showed him the fruitlessness of his efforts, but he paid no attention to its teachings. he had formed once for all his theory of government, and for thirty years he acted according to it with all the blindness and obstinacy of a reckless, fanatical doctrinaire. even at the close of his reign, when the terrible logic of facts had proved his system to be a mistake--when his armies had been defeated, his best fleet destroyed, his ports blockaded, and his treasury well-nigh emptied--he could not recant. "my successor," he is reported to have said on his deathbed, "may do as he pleases, but i cannot change." had nicholas lived in the old patriarchal times, when kings were the uncontrolled "shepherds of the people," he would perhaps have been an admirable ruler; but in the nineteenth century he was a flagrant anachronism. his system of administration completely broke down. in vain he multiplied formalities and inspectors, and punished severely the few delinquents who happened by some accident to be brought to justice; the officials continued to pilfer, extort, and misgovern in every possible way. though the country was reduced to what would be called in europe "a state of siege," the inhabitants might still have said--as they are reported to have declared a thousand years before--"our land is great and fertile, but there is no order in it." in a nation accustomed to political life and to a certain amount of self-government, any approach to the system of nicholas would, of course, have produced wide-spread dissatisfaction and violent hatred against the ruling power. but in russia at that time no such feelings were awakened. the educated classes--and a fortiori the uneducated--were profoundly indifferent not only to political questions, but also to ordinary public affairs, whether local or imperial, and were quite content to leave them in the hands of those who were paid for attending to them. in common with the uneducated peasantry, the nobles had a boundless respect--one might almost say a superstitious reverence--not only for the person, but also for the will of the tsar, and were ready to show unquestioning obedience to his commands, so long as these did not interfere with their accustomed mode of life. the tsar desired them not to trouble their heads with political questions, and to leave all public matters to the care of the administration; and in this respect the imperial will coincided so well with their personal inclinations that they had no difficulty in complying with it. when the tsar ordered those of them who held office to refrain from extortion and peculation, his orders were not so punctiliously obeyed, but in this disobedience there was no open opposition--no assertion of a right to pilfer and extort. as the disobedience proceeded, not from a feeling of insubordination, but merely from the weakness that official flesh is heir to, it was not regarded as very heinous. in the aristocratic circles of st. petersburg and moscow there was the same indifference to political questions and public affairs. all strove to have the reputation of being "well-intentioned," which was the first requisite for those who desired court favour or advancement in the public service; and those whose attention was not entirely occupied with official duties, card-playing, and the ordinary routine of everyday life, cultivated belles-lettres or the fine arts. in short, the educated classes in russia at that time showed a complete indifference to political and social questions, an apathetic acquiescence in the system of administration adopted by the government, and an unreasoning contentment with the existing state of things. about the year , when the reaction against romanticism was awakening in the reading public an interest in the affairs of real life,* began to appear what may be called "the men with aspirations," a little band of generous enthusiasts, strongly resembling the youth in longfellow's poem who carries a banner with the device "excelsior," and strives ever to climb higher, without having any clear notion of where he was going or of what he is to do when he reaches the summit. at first they had little more than a sentimental enthusiasm for the true, the beautiful, and the good, and a certain platonic love for free institutions, liberty, enlightenment, progress, and everything that was generally comprehended at that period under the term "liberal." gradually, under the influence of current french literature, their ideas became a little clearer, and they began to look on reality around them with a critical eye. they could perceive, without much effort, the unrelenting tyranny of the administration, the notorious venality of the tribunals, the reckless squandering of the public money, the miserable condition of the serfs, the systematic strangulation of all independent opinion or private initiative, and, above all, the profound apathy of the upper classes, who seemed quite content with things as they were. * vide supra, p. et seq. with such ugly facts staring them in the face, and with the habit of looking at things from the moral point of view, these men could understand how hollow and false were the soothing or triumphant phrases of official optimism. they did not, indeed, dare to express their indignation publicly, for the authorities would allow no public expression of dissatisfaction with the existing state of things, but they disseminated their ideas among their friends and acquaintances by means of conversation and manuscript literature, and some of them, as university professors and writers in the periodical press, contrived to awaken in a certain section of the young generation an ardent enthusiasm for enlightenment and progress, and a vague hope that a brighter day was about to dawn. not a few sympathised with these new conceptions and aspirations, but the great majority of the nobles regarded them--especially after the french revolution of --as revolutionary and dangerous. thus the educated classes became divided into two sections, which have sometimes been called the liberals and the conservatives, but which might be more properly designated the men with aspirations and the apathetically contented. these latter doubtless felt occasionally the irksomeness of the existing system, but they had always one consolation--if they were oppressed at home they were feared abroad. the tsar was at least a thorough soldier, possessing an enormous and well-equipped army by which he might at any moment impose his will on europe. ever since the glorious days of , when napoleon was forced to make an ignominious retreat from the ruins of moscow, the belief that the russian soldiers were superior to all others, and that the russian army was invincible, had become an article of the popular creed; and the respect which the voice of nicholas commanded in western europe seemed to prove that the fact was admitted by foreign nations. in these and similar considerations the apathetically contented found a justification for their lethargy. when it became evident that russia was about to engage in a trial of strength with the western powers, this optimism became general. "the heavy burdens," it was said, "which the people have had to bear were necessary to make russia the first military power in europe, and now the nation will reap the fruits of its long-suffering and patient resignation. the west will learn that her boasted liberty and liberal institutions are of little service in the hour of danger, and the russians who admire such institutions will be constrained to admit that a strong, all-directing autocracy is the only means of preserving national greatness." as the patriotic fervour and military enthusiasm increased, nothing was heard but praises of nicholas and his system. the war was regarded by many as a kind of crusade--even the emperor spoke about the defence of "the native soil and the holy faith"--and the most exaggerated expectations were entertained of its results. the old eastern question was at last to be solved in accordance with russian aspirations, and nicholas was about to realise catherine ii.'s grand scheme of driving the turks out of europe. the date at which the troops would arrive at constantinople was actively discussed, and a slavophil poet called on the emperor to lie down in constantinople, and rise up as tsar of a panslavonic empire. some enthusiasts even expected the speedy liberation of jerusalem from the power of the infidel. to the enemy, who might possibly hinder the accomplishment of these schemes, very little attention was paid. "we have only to throw our hats at them!" (shapkami zakidaem) became a favourite expression. there were, however, a few men in whom the prospect of the coming struggle awoke very different thoughts and feelings. they could not share the sanguine expectations of those who were confident of success. "what preparations have we made," they asked, "for the struggle with civilisation, which now sends its forces against us? with all our vast territory and countless population we are incapable of coping with it. when we talk of the glorious campaign against napoleon, we forget that since that time europe has been steadily advancing on the road of progress while we have been standing still. we march not to victory, but to defeat, and the only grain of consolation which we have is that russia will learn by experience a lesson that will be of use to her in the future."* * these are the words of granovski. these prophets of evil found, of course, few disciples, and were generally regarded as unworthy sons of the fatherland--almost as traitors to their country. but their predictions were confirmed by events. the allies were victorious in the crimea, and even the despised turks made a successful stand on the line of the danube. in spite of the efforts of the government to suppress all unpleasant intelligence, it soon became known that the military organisation was little, if at all, better than the civil administration--that the individual bravery of soldiers and officers was neutralised by the incapacity of the generals, the venality of the officials, and the shameless peculation of the commissariat department. the emperor, it was said, had drilled out of the officers all energy, individuality, and moral force. almost the only men who showed judgment, decision, and energy were the officers of the black sea fleet, which had been less subjected to the prevailing system. as the struggle went on, it became evident how weak the country really was--how deficient in the resources necessary to sustain a prolonged conflict. "another year of war," writes an eye-witness in , "and the whole of southern russia will be ruined." to meet the extraordinary demands on the treasury, recourse was had to an enormous issue of paper money; but the rapid depreciation of the currency showed that this resource would soon be exhausted. militia regiments were everywhere raised throughout the country, and many proprietors spent large sums in equipping volunteer corps; but very soon this enthusiasm cooled when it was found that the patriotic efforts enriched the jobbers without inflicting any serious injury on the enemy. under the sting of the great national humiliation, the upper classes awoke from their optimistic resignation. they had borne patiently the oppression of a semi-military administration, and for this! the system of nicholas had been put to a crucial test, and found wanting. the policy which had sacrificed all to increase the military power of the empire was seen to be a fatal error, and the worthlessness of the drill-sergeant regime was proved by bitter experience. those administrative fetters which had for more than a quarter of a century cramped every spontaneous movement had failed to fulfil even the narrow purpose for which they had been forged. they had, indeed, secured a certain external tranquillity during those troublous times when europe was convulsed by revolutionary agitation; but this tranquillity was not that of healthy normal action, but of death--and underneath the surface lay secret and rapidly spreading corruption. the army still possessed that dashing gallantry which it had displayed in the campaigns of suvorof, that dogged, stoical bravery which had checked the advance of napoleon on the field of borodino, and that wondrous power of endurance which had often redeemed the negligence of generals and the defects of the commissariat; but the result was now not victory, but defeat. how could this be explained except by the radical defects of that system which had been long practised with such inflexible perseverance? the government had imagined that it could do everything by its own wisdom and energy, and in reality it had done nothing, or worse than nothing. the higher officers had learned only too well to be mere automata; the ameliorations in the military organisation, on which nicholas had always bestowed special attention, were found to exist for the most part only in the official reports; the shameful exploits of the commissariat department were such as to excite the indignation of those who had long lived in an atmosphere of official jobbery and peculation; and the finances, which people had generally supposed to be in a highly satisfactory condition, had become seriously crippled by the first great national effort. this deep and wide-spread dissatisfaction was not allowed to appear in the press, but it found very free expression in the manuscript literature and in conversation. in almost every house--i mean, of course, among the educated classes--words were spoken which a few months before would have seemed treasonable, if not blasphemous. philippics and satires in prose and verse were written by the dozen, and circulated in hundreds of copies. a pasquil on the commander in chief, or a tirade against the government, was sure to be eagerly read and warmly approved of. as a specimen of this kind of literature, and an illustration of the public opinion of the time, i may translate here one of those metrical tirades. though it was never printed, it obtained a wide circulation: "'god has placed me over russia,' said the tsar to us, 'and you must bow down before me, for my throne is his altar. trouble not yourselves with public affairs, for i think for you and watch over you every hour. my watchful eye detects internal evils and the machinations of foreign enemies; and i have no need of counsel, for god inspires me with wisdom. be proud, therefore, of being my slaves, o russians, and regard my will as your law.' "we listened to these words with deep reverence, and gave a tacit consent; and what was the result? under mountains of official papers real interests were forgotten. the letter of the law was observed, but negligence and crime were allowed to go unpunished. while grovelling in the dust before ministers and directors of departments in the hope of receiving tchins and decorations, the officials stole unblushingly; and theft became so common that he who stole the most was the most respected. the merits of officers were decided at reviews; and he who obtained the rank of general was supposed capable of becoming at once an able governor, an excellent engineer, or a most wise senator. those who were appointed governors were for the most part genuine satraps, the scourges of the provinces entrusted to their care. the other offices were filled up with as little attention to the merits of the candidates. a stable-boy became press censor! an imperial fool became admiral! kleinmichel became a count! in a word, the country was handed over to the tender mercies of a band of robbers. "and what did we russians do all this time? "we russians slept! with groans the peasant paid his yearly dues; with groans the proprietor mortgaged the second half of his estate; groaning, we all paid our heavy tribute to the officials. occasionally, with a grave shaking of the head, we remarked in a whisper that it was a shame and a disgrace--that there was no justice in the courts--that millions were squandered on imperial tours, kiosks, and pavilions--that everything was wrong; and then, with an easy conscience, we sat down to our rubber, praised the acting of rachel, criticised the singing of frezzolini, bowed low to venal magnates, and squabbled with each other for advancement in the very service which we so severely condemned. if we did not obtain the place we wished we retired to our ancestral estates, where we talked of the crops, fattened in indolence and gluttony, and lived a genuine animal life. if any one, amidst the general lethargy, suddenly called upon us to rise and fight for the truth and for russia, how ridiculous did he appear! how cleverly the pharisaical official ridiculed him, and how quickly the friends of yesterday showed him the cold shoulder! under the anathema of public opinion, in some distant siberian mine he recognised what a heinous sin it was to disturb the heavy sleep of apathetic slaves. soon he was forgotten, or remembered as an unfortunate madman; and the few who said, 'perhaps after all he was right,' hastened to add, 'but that is none of our business.' "but amidst all this we had at least one consolation, one thing to be proud of--the might of russia in the assembly of kings. 'what need we care,' we said, 'for the reproaches of foreign nations? we are stronger than those who reproach us.' and when at great reviews the stately regiments marched past with waving standards, glittering helmets, and sparkling bayonets, when we heard the loud hurrah with which the troops greeted the emperor, then our hearts swelled with patriotic pride, and we were ready to repeat the words of the poet-- "strong is our native country, and great the russian tsar." "then british statesmen, in company with the crowned conspirator of france, and with treacherous austria, raised western europe against us, but we laughed scornfully at the coming storm. 'let the nations rave,' we said; 'we have no cause to be afraid. the tsar doubtless foresaw all, and has long since made the necessary preparations.' boldly we went forth to fight, and confidently awaited the moment of the struggle. "and lo! after all our boasting we were taken by surprise, and caught unawares, as by a robber in the dark. the sleep of innate stupidity blinded our ambassadors, and our foreign minister sold us to our enemies.* where were our millions of soldiers? where was the well-considered plan of defence? one courier brought the order to advance; another brought the order to retreat; and the army wandered about without definite aim or purpose. with loss and shame we retreated from the forts of silistria, and the pride of russia was humbled before the hapsburg eagle. the soldiers fought well, but the parade-admiral (menshikof)--the amphibious hero of lost battles--did not know the geography of his own country, and sent his troops to certain destruction. * many people at that time imagined that count nesselrode, who was then minister for foreign affairs, was a traitor to his adopted country. "awake, o russia! devoured by foreign enemies, crushed by slavery, shamefully oppressed by stupid authorities and spies, awaken from your long sleep of ignorance and apathy! you have been long enough held in bondage by the successors of the tartar khan. stand forward calmly before the throne of the despot, and demand from him an account of the national disaster. say to him boldly that his throne is not the altar of god, and that god did not condemn us to be slaves. russia entrusted to you, o tsar, the supreme power, and you were as a god upon earth. and what have you done? blinded by ignorance and passion, you have lusted after power and have forgotten russia. you have spent your life in reviewing troops, in modifying uniforms, and in appending your signature to the legislative projects of ignorant charlatans. you created the despicable race of press censors, in order to sleep in peace--in order not to know the wants and not to hear the groans of the people--in order not to listen to truth. you buried truth, rolled a great stone to the door of the sepulchre, placed a strong guard over it, and said in the pride of your heart: for her there is no resurrection! but the third day has dawned, and truth has arisen from the dead. "stand forward, o tsar, before the judgment-seat of history and of god! you have mercilessly trampled truth under foot, you have denied freedom, you have been the slave of your own passions. by your pride and obstinacy you have exhausted russia and raised the world in arms against us. bow down before your brethren and humble yourself in the dust! crave pardon and ask advice! throw yourself into the arms of the people! there is now no other salvation!" the innumerable tirades of which the above is a fair specimen were not very remarkable for literary merit or political wisdom. for the most part they were simply bits of bombastic rhetoric couched in doggerel rhyme, and they have consequently been long since consigned to well-merited oblivion--so completely that it is now difficult to obtain copies of them.* they have, however, an historical interest, because they express in a more or less exaggerated form the public opinion and prevalent ideas of the educated classes at that moment. in order to comprehend their real significance, we must remember that the writers and readers were not a band of conspirators, but ordinary, respectable, well-intentioned people, who never for a moment dreamed of embarking in revolutionary designs. it was the same society that had been a few months before so indifferent to all political questions, and even now there was no clear conception as to how the loud-sounding phrases could be translated into action. we can imagine the comical discomfiture of those who read and listened to these appeals, if the "despot" had obeyed their summons, and suddenly appeared before them. * i am indebted for the copies which i possess to friends who copied and collected these pamphlets at the time. was the movement, then, merely an outburst of childish petulance? certainly not. the public were really and seriously convinced that things were all wrong, and they were seriously and enthusiastically desirous that a new and better order of things should be introduced. it must be said to their honour that they did not content themselves with accusing and lampooning the individuals who were supposed to be the chief culprits. on the contrary, they looked reality boldly in the face, made a public confession of their past sins, sought conscientiously the causes which had produced the recent disasters, and endeavoured to find means by which such calamities might be prevented in the future. the public feeling and aspirations were not strong enough to conquer the traditional respect for the imperial will and create an open opposition to the autocratic power, but they were strong enough to do great things by aiding the government, if the emperor voluntarily undertook a series of radical reforms. what nicholas would have done, had he lived, in face of this national awakening, it is difficult to say. he declared, indeed, that he could not change, and we can readily believe that his proud spirit would have scorned to make concessions to the principles which he had always condemned; but he gave decided indications in the last days of his life that his old faith in his system was somewhat shaken, and he did not exhort his son to persevere in the path along which he himself had forced his way with such obstinate consistency. it is useless, however, to speculate on possibilities. whilst the government had still to concentrate all its energies on the defence of the country, the iron tsar died, and was succeeded by his son, a man of a very different type. of a kind-hearted, humane disposition, sincerely desirous of maintaining the national honour, but singularly free from military ambition and imbued with no fanatical belief in the drill-sergeant system of government, alexander ii. was by no means insensible to the spirit of the time. he had, however, none of the sentimental enthusiasm for liberal institutions which had characterised his uncle, alexander i. on the contrary, he had inherited from his father a strong dislike to sentimentalism and rhetoric of all kinds. this dislike, joined to a goodly portion of sober common-sense, a limited confidence in his own judgment, and a consciousness of enormous responsibility, prevented him from being carried away by the prevailing excitement. with all that was generous and humane in the movement he thoroughly sympathised, and he allowed the popular ideas and aspirations to find free utterance; but he did not at once commit himself to any definite policy, and carefully refrained from all exaggerated expressions of reforming zeal. as soon, however, as peace had been concluded, there were unmistakable symptoms that the rigorously repressive system of nicholas was about to be abandoned. in the manifesto announcing the termination of hostilities the emperor expressed his conviction that by the combined efforts of the government and the people, the public administration would be improved, and that justice and mercy would reign in the courts of law. apparently as a preparation for this great work, to be undertaken by the tsar and his people in common, the ministers began to take the public into their confidence, and submitted to public criticism many official data which had hitherto been regarded as state secrets. the minister of the interior, for instance, in his annual report, spoke almost in the tone of a penitent, and confessed openly that the morality of the officials under his orders left much to be desired. he declared that the emperor now showed a paternal confidence in his people, and as a proof of this he mentioned the significant fact that , persons had been liberated from police supervision. the other branches of the administration underwent a similar transformation. the haughty, dictatorial tone which had hitherto been used by superiors to their subordinates, and by all ranks of officials to the public, was replaced by one of considerate politeness. about the same time those of the decembrists who were still alive were pardoned. the restrictions regarding the number of students in each university were abolished, the difficulty of obtaining foreign passports was removed, and the press censors became singularly indulgent. though no decided change had been made in the laws, it was universally felt that the spirit of nicholas was no more. the public, anxiously seeking after a sign, readily took these symptoms of change as a complete confirmation of their ardent hopes, and leaped at once to the conclusion that a vast, all-embracing system of radical reform was about to be undertaken--not secretly by the administration, as had been the custom in the preceding reign when any little changes had to be made, but publicly, by the government and the people in common. "the heart trembles with joy," said one of the leading organs of the press, "in expectation of the great social reforms that are about to be effected--reforms that are thoroughly in accordance with the spirit, the wishes, and the expectations of the public." "the old harmony and community of feeling," said another, "which has always existed between the government and the people, save during short exceptional periods, has been fully re-established. the absence of all sentiment of caste, and the feeling of common origin and brotherhood which binds all classes of the russian people into a homogeneous whole, will enable russia to accomplish peacefully and without effort not only those great reforms which cost europe centuries of struggle and bloodshed, but also many which the nations of the west are still unable to accomplish, in consequence of feudal traditions and caste prejudices." the past was depicted in the blackest colours, and the nation was called upon to begin a new and glorious epoch of its history. "we have to struggle," it was said, "in the name of the highest truth against egotism and the puny interests of the moment; and we ought to prepare our children from their infancy to take part in that struggle which awaits every honest man. we have to thank the war for opening our eyes to the dark sides of our political and social organisation, and it is now our duty to profit by the lesson. but it must not be supposed that the government can, single-handed, remedy the defects. the destinies of russia are, as it were, a stranded vessel which the captain and crew cannot move, and which nothing, indeed, but the rising tide of the national life can raise and float." hearts beat quicker at the sound of these calls to action. many heard this new teaching, if we may believe a contemporary authority, "with tears in their eyes"; then, "raising boldly their heads, they made a solemn vow that they would act honourably, perseveringly, fearlessly." some of those who had formerly yielded to the force of circumstances now confessed their misdemeanours with bitterness of heart. "tears of repentance," said a popular poet, "give relief, and call us to new exploits." russia was compared to a strong giant who awakes from sleep, stretches his brawny limbs, collects his thoughts, and prepares to atone for his long inactivity by feats of untold prowess. all believed, or at least assumed, that the recognition of defects would necessarily entail their removal. when an actor in one of the st. petersburg theatres shouted from the stage, "let us proclaim throughout all russia that the time has come for tearing up evil by the roots!" the audience gave way to the most frantic enthusiasm. "altogether a joyful time," says one who took part in the excitement, "as when, after the long winter, the genial breath of spring glides over the cold, petrified earth, and nature awakens from her deathlike sleep. speech, long restrained by police and censorial regulations, now flows smoothly, majestically, like a mighty river that has just been freed from ice." under these influences a multitude of newspapers and periodicals were founded, and the current literature entirely changed its character. the purely literary and historical questions which had hitherto engaged the attention of the reading public were thrown aside and forgotten, unless they could be made to illustrate some principle of political or social science. criticisms on style and diction, explanations of aesthetic principles, metaphysical discussions--all this seemed miserable trifling to men who wished to devote themselves to gigantic practical interests. "science," it was said, "has now descended from the heights of philosophic abstraction into the arena of real life." the periodicals were accordingly filled with articles on railways, banks, free-trade, education, agriculture, communal institutions, local self-government, joint-stock companies, and with crushing philippics against personal and national vanity, inordinate luxury, administrative tyranny, and the habitual peculation of the officials. this last-named subject received special attention. during the preceding reign any attempt to criticise publicly the character or acts of an official was regarded as a very heinous offence; now there was a deluge of sketches, tales, comedies, and monologues, describing the corruption of the administration, and explaining the ingenious devices by which the tchinovniks increased their scanty salaries. the public would read nothing that had not a direct or indirect bearing on the questions of the day, and whatever had such a bearing was read with interest. it did not seem at all strange that a drama should be written in defence of free-trade, or a poem in advocacy of some peculiar mode of taxation; that an author should expound his political ideas in a tale, and his antagonist reply by a comedy. a few men of the old school protested feebly against this "prostitution of art," but they received little attention, and the doctrine that art should be cultivated for its own sake was scouted as an invention of aristocratic indolence. here is an ipsa pinxit of the literature of the time: "literature has come to look at russia with her own eyes, and sees that the idyllic romantic personages which the poets formerly loved to describe have no objective existence. having taken off her french glove, she offers her hand to the rude, hard-working labourer, and observing lovingly russian village life, she feels herself in her native land. the writers of the present have analysed the past, and, having separated themselves from aristocratic litterateurs and aristocratic society, have demolished their former idols." by far the most influential periodical at the commencement of the movement was the kolokol, or bell, a fortnightly journal published in london by herzen, who was at that time an important personage among the political refugees. herzen was a man of education and culture, with ultra-radical opinions, and not averse to using revolutionary methods of reform when he considered them necessary. his intimate relations with many of the leading men in russia enabled him to obtain secret information of the most important and varied kind, and his sparkling wit, biting satire, and clear, terse, brilliant style secured him a large number of readers. he seemed to know everything that was done in the ministries and even in the cabinet of the emperor,* and he exposed most mercilessly every abuse that came to his knowledge. we who are accustomed to free political discussion can hardly form a conception of the avidity with which his articles were read, and the effect which they produced. though strictly prohibited by the press censure, the kolokol found its way across the frontier in thousands of copies, and was eagerly perused and commented on by all ranks of the educated classes. the emperor himself received it regularly, and high-priced delinquents examined it with fear and trembling. in this way herzen was for some years, though an exile, an important political personage, and did much to awaken and keep up the reform enthusiasm. * as an illustration of this, the following anecdote is told: one number of the kolokol contained a violent attack on an important personage of the court, and the accused, or some one of his friends, considered it advisable to have a copy specially printed for the emperor without the objectionable article. the emperor did not at first discover the trick, but shortly afterwards he received from london a polite note containing the article which had been omitted, and informing him how he had been deceived. but where were the conservatives all this time? how came it that for two or three years no voice was raised and no protest made even against the rhetorical exaggerations of the new-born liberalism? where were the representatives of the old regime, who had been so thoroughly imbued with the spirit of nicholas? where were those ministers who had systematically extinguished the least indication of private initiative, those "satraps" who had stamped out the least symptom of insubordination or discontent, those press censors who had diligently suppressed the mildest expression of liberal opinion, those thousands of well-intentioned proprietors who had regarded as dangerous free-thinkers and treasonable republicans all who ventured to express dissatisfaction with the existing state of things? a short time before, the conservatives composed at least nine-tenths of the upper classes, and now they had suddenly and mysteriously disappeared. it is scarcely necessary to say that in a country accustomed to political life, such a sudden, unopposed revolution in public opinion could not possibly take place. the key to the mystery lies in the fact that for centuries russia had known nothing of political life or political parties. those who were sometimes called conservatives were in reality not at all conservatives in our sense of the term. if we say that they had a certain amount of conservatism, we must add that it was of the latent, passive, unreasoned kind--the fruit of indolence and apathy. their political creed had but one article: thou shalt love the tsar with all thy might, and carefully abstain from all resistance to his will--especially when it happens that the tsar is a man of the nicholas type. so long as nicholas lived they had passively acquiesced in his system--active acquiescence had been neither demanded nor desired--but when he died, the system of which he was the soul died with him. what then could they seek to defend? they were told that the system which they had been taught to regard as the sheet-anchor of the state was in reality the chief cause of the national disasters; and to this they could make no reply, because they had no better explanation of their own to offer. they were convinced that the russian soldier was the best soldier in the world, and they knew that in the recent war the army had not been victorious; the system, therefore, must be to blame. they were told that a series of gigantic reforms was necessary in order to restore russia to her proper place among the nations; and to this they could make no answer, for they had never studied such abstract questions. and one thing they did know: that those who hesitated to admit the necessity of gigantic reforms were branded by the press as ignorant, narrow-minded, prejudiced, and egotistical, and were held up to derision as men who did not know the most elementary principles of political and economic science. freely expressed public opinion was such a new phenomenon in russia that the press was able for some time to exercise a "liberal" tyranny scarcely less severe than the "conservative" tyranny of the censors in the preceding reign. men who would have stood fire gallantly on the field of battle quailed before the poisoned darts of herzen in the kolokol. under such circumstances, even the few who possessed some vague conservative convictions refrained from publicly expressing them. the men who had played a more or less active part during the preceding reign, and who might therefore be expected to have clearer and deeper convictions, were specially incapable of offering opposition to the prevailing liberal enthusiasm. their conservatism was of quite as limp a kind as that of the landed proprietors who were not in the public service, for under nicholas the higher a man was placed the less likely was he to have political convictions of any kind outside the simple political creed above referred to. besides this, they belonged to that class which was for the moment under the anathema of public opinion, and they had drawn direct personal advantage from the system which was now recognised as the chief cause of the national disasters. for a time the name of tchinovnik became a term of reproach and derision, and the position of those who bore it was comically painful. they strove to prove that, though they held a post in the public service, they were entirely free from the tchinovnik spirit--that there was nothing of the genuine tchinovnik about them. those who had formerly paraded their tchin (official rank) on all occasions, in season and out of season, became half ashamed to admit that they had the rank of general; for the title no longer commanded respect, and had become associated with all that was antiquated, formal, and stupid. among the young generation it was used most disrespectfully as equivalent to "pompous blockhead." zealous officials who had lately regarded the acquisition of stars and orders as among the chief ends of man, were fain to conceal those hard-won trophies, lest some cynical "liberal" might notice them and make them the butt of his satire. "look at the depth of humiliation to which you have brought the country"--such was the chorus of reproach that was ever ringing in their ears--"with your red tape, your chinese formalism, and your principle of lifeless, unreasoning, mechanical obedience! you asserted constantly that you were the only true patriots, and branded with the name of traitor those who warned you of the insane folly of your conduct. you see now what it has all come to. the men whom you helped to send to the mines turn out to have been the true patriots."* * it was a common saying at that time that nearly all the best men in russia had spent a part of their lives in siberia, and it was proposed to publish a biographical dictionary of remarkable men, in which every article was to end thus: "exiled to ---- in --." i am not aware how far the project was seriously entertained, but, of course, the book was never published. and to these reproaches what could they reply? like a child who has in his frolics inadvertently set the house on fire, they could only look contrite, and say they did not mean it. they had simply accepted without criticism the existing order of things, and ranged themselves among those who were officially recognised as "the well-intentioned." if they had always avoided the liberals, and perhaps helped to persecute them, it was simply because all "well-intentioned" people said that liberals were "restless" and dangerous to the state. those who were not convinced of their errors simply kept silence, but the great majority passed over to the ranks of the progressists, and many endeavoured to redeem their past by showing extreme zeal for the liberal cause. in explanation of this extraordinary outburst of reform enthusiasm, we must further remember that the russian educated classes, in spite of the severe northern climate which is supposed to make the blood circulate slowly, are extremely impulsive. they are fettered by no venerable historical prejudices, and are wonderfully sensitive to the seductive influence of grandiose projects, especially when these excite the patriotic feelings. then there was the simple force of reaction--the rebound which naturally followed the terrific compression of the preceding reign. without disrespect, the russians of that time may be compared to schoolboys who have just escaped from the rigorous discipline of a severe schoolmaster. in the first moments of freedom it was supposed that there would be no more discipline or compulsion. the utmost respect was to be shown to "human dignity," and every russian was to act spontaneously and zealously at the great work of national regeneration. all thirsted for reforming activity. the men in authority were inundated with projects of reform--some of them anonymous, and others from obscure individuals; some of them practical, and very many wildly fantastic. even the grammarians showed their sympathy with the spirit of the time by proposing to expel summarily all redundant letters from the russian alphabet! the fact that very few people had clear, precise ideas as to what was to be done did not prevent, but rather tended to increase, the reform enthusiasm. all had at least one common feeling--dislike to what had previously existed. it was only when it became necessary to forsake pure negation, and to create something, that the conceptions became clearer, and a variety of opinions appeared. at the first moment there was merely unanimity in negation, and an impulsive enthusiasm for beneficent reforms in general. the first specific proposals were direct deductions from the lessons taught by the war. the war had shown in a terrible way the disastrous consequences of having merely primitive means of communication; the press and the public began, accordingly, to speak about the necessity of constructing railways, roads and river-steamers. the war had shown that a country which has not developed its natural resources very soon becomes exhausted if it has to make a great national effort; accordingly the public and the press talked about the necessity of developing the natural resources, and about the means by which this desirable end might be attained. it had been shown by the war that a system of education which tends to make men mere apathetic automata cannot produce even a good army; accordingly the public and the press began to discuss the different systems of education and the numerous questions of pedagogical science. it had been shown by the war that the best intentions of a government will necessarily be frustrated if the majority of the officials are dishonest or incapable; accordingly the public and the press began to speak about the paramount necessity of reforming the administration in all its branches. it must not, however, be supposed that in thus laying to heart the lessons taught by the war and endeavouring to profit by them, the russians were actuated by warlike feelings, and desired to avenge themselves as soon as possible on their victorious enemies. on the contrary, the whole movement and the spirit which animated it were eminently pacific. prince gortchakof's saying, "la russie ne boude pas, elle se recueille," was more than a diplomatic repartee--it was a true and graphic statement of the case. though the russians are very inflammable, and can be very violent when their patriotic feelings are aroused, they are, individually and as a nation, singularly free from rancour and the spirit of revenge. after the termination of hostilities they really bore little malice towards the western powers, except towards austria, which was believed to have been treacherous and ungrateful to the country that had saved her in . their patriotism now took the form, not of revenge, but of a desire to raise their country to the level of the western nations. if they thought of military matters at all, they assumed that military power would be obtained as a natural and inevitable result of high civilisation and good government. as a first step towards the realisation of the vast schemes contemplated, voluntary associations began to be formed for industrial and commercial purposes, and a law was issued for the creation of limited liability companies. in the space of two years forty-seven companies of this kind were founded, with a combined capital of millions of roubles. to understand the full significance of these figures, we must know that from the founding of the first joint-stock company in down to only twenty-six companies had been formed, and their united capital amounted only to thirty-two millions of roubles. thus in the space of two years ( - ) eleven times as much capital was subscribed to joint-stock companies as had been subscribed during half a century previous to the war. the most exaggerated expectations were entertained as to the national and private advantages which must necessarily result from these undertakings, and it became a patriotic duty to subscribe liberally. the periodical literature depicted in glowing terms the marvellous results that had been obtained in other countries by the principle of co-operation, and sanguine readers believed that they had discovered a patriotic way of speedily becoming rich. these were, however, mere secondary matters, and the public were anxiously waiting for the government to begin the grand reforming campaign. when the educated classes awoke to the necessity of great reforms, there was no clear conception as to how the great work should be undertaken. there was so much to be done that it was no easy matter to decide what should be done first. administrative, judicial, social, economical, financial, and political reforms seemed all equally pressing. gradually, however, it became evident that precedence must be given to the question of serfage. it was absurd to speak about progress, humanitarianism, education, self-government, equality in the eye of the law, and similar matters, so long as one half of the population was excluded from the enjoyment of ordinary civil rights. so long as serfage existed it was mere mockery to talk about re-organising russia according to the latest results of political and social science. how could a system of even-handed justice be introduced when twenty millions of the peasantry were subject to the arbitrary will of the landed proprietors? how could agricultural or industrial progress be made without free labour? how could the government take active measures for the spread of national education when it had no direct control over one-half of the peasantry? above all, how could it be hoped that a great moral regeneration could take place, so long as the nation voluntarily retained the stigma of serfage and slavery? all this was very generally felt by the educated classes, but no one ventured to raise the question until it should be known what were the views of the emperor on the subject. how the question was gradually raised, how it was treated by the nobles, and how it was ultimately solved by the famous law of february th (march d), ,* i now propose to relate. * february th according to the old style, which is still used in russia, and march d according to our method of reckoning. chapter xxviii the serfs the rural population in ancient times--the peasantry in the eighteenth century--how was this change effected?--the common explanation inaccurate--serfage the result of permanent economic and political causes--origin of the adscriptio glebae--its consequences--serf insurrection--turning-point in the history of serfage--serfage in russia and in western europe--state peasants--numbers and geographical distribution of the serf population--serf dues--legal and actual power of the proprietors--the serfs' means of defence--fugitives--domestic serfs--strange advertisements in the moscow gazette--moral influence of serfage. before proceeding to describe the emancipation, it may be well to explain briefly how the russian peasants became serfs, and what serfage in russia really was. in the earliest period of russian history the rural population was composed of three distinct classes. at the bottom of the scale stood the slaves, who were very numerous. their numbers were continually augmented by prisoners of war, by freemen who voluntarily sold themselves as slaves, by insolvent debtors, and by certain categories of criminals. immediately above the slaves were the free agricultural labourers, who had no permanent domicile, but wandered about the country and settled temporarily where they happened to find work and satisfactory remuneration. in the third place, distinct from these two classes, and in some respects higher in the social scale, were the peasants properly so called.* * my chief authority for the early history of the peasantry has been belaef, "krestyanye na rusi," moscow, ; a most able and conscientious work. these peasants proper, who may be roughly described as small farmers or cottiers, were distinguished from the free agricultural labourers in two respects: they were possessors of land in property or usufruct, and they were members of a rural commune. the communes were free primitive corporations which elected their office-bearers from among the heads of families, and sent delegates to act as judges or assessors in the prince's court. some of the communes possessed land of their own, whilst others were settled on the estates of the landed proprietors or on the extensive domains of the monasteries. in the latter case the peasant paid a fixed yearly rent in money, in produce, or in labour, according to the terms of his contract with the proprietor or the monastery; but he did not thereby sacrifice in any way his personal liberty. as soon as he had fulfilled the engagements stipulated in the contract and had settled accounts with the owner of the land, he was free to change his domicile as he pleased. if we turn now from these early times to the eighteenth century, we find that the position of the rural population has entirely changed in the interval. the distinction between slaves, agricultural labourers, and peasants has completely disappeared. all three categories have melted together into a common class, called serfs, who are regarded as the property of the landed proprietors or of the state. "the proprietors sell their peasants and domestic servants not even in families, but one by one, like cattle, as is done nowhere else in the whole world, from which practice there is not a little wailing."* and yet the government, whilst professing to regret the existence of the practice, takes no energetic measures to prevent it. on the contrary, it deprives the serfs of all legal protection, and expressly commands that if any serf shall dare to present a petition against his master, he shall be punished with the knout and transported for life to the mines of nertchinsk. (ukaz of august d, .**) * these words are taken from an imperial ukaz of april th, . polnoye sobranye zakonov, no. , . ** this is an ukaz of the liberal and tolerant catherine! how she reconciled it with her respect and admiration for beccaria's humane views on criminal law she does not explain. how did this important change take place, and how is it to be explained? if we ask any educated russian who has never specially occupied himself with historical investigations regarding the origin of serfage in russia, he will probably reply somewhat in this fashion: "in russia slavery has never existed (!), and even serfage in the west-european sense has never been recognised by law! in ancient times the rural population was completely free, and every peasant might change his domicile on st. george's day--that is to say, at the end of the agricultural year. this right of migration was abolished by tsar boris godunof--who, by the way, was half a tartar and more than half a usurper--and herein lies the essence of serfage in the russian sense. the peasants have never been the property of the landed proprietors, but have always been personally free; and the only legal restriction on their liberty was that they were not allowed to change their domicile without the permission of the proprietor. if so-called serfs were sometimes sold, the practice was simply an abuse not justified by legislation." this simple explanation, in which may be detected a note of patriotic pride, is almost universally accepted in russia; but it contains, like most popular conceptions of the distant past, a curious mixture of fact and fiction. serious historical investigation tends to show that the power of the proprietors over the peasants came into existence, not suddenly, as the result of an ukaz, but gradually, as a consequence of permanent economic and political causes, and that boris godunof was not more to blame than many of his predecessors and successors.* * see especially pobedonostsef, in the russki vestnik, , no. , and "istoritcheskiya izsledovaniya i statyi" (st. petersburg, ), by the same author; also pogodin, in the russkaya beseda, , no. . although the peasants in ancient russia were free to wander about as they chose, there appeared at a very early period--long before the reign of boris godunof--a decided tendency in the princes, in the proprietors, and in the communes, to prevent migration. this tendency will be easily understood if we remember that land without labourers is useless, and that in russia at that time the population was small in comparison with the amount of reclaimed and easily reclaimable land. the prince desired to have as many inhabitants as possible in his principality, because the amount of his regular revenues depended on the number of the population. the landed proprietor desired to have as many peasants as possible on his estate, to till for him the land which he reserved for his own use, and to pay him for the remainder a yearly rent in money, produce, or labour. the free communes desired to have a number of members sufficient to keep the whole of the communal land under cultivation, because each commune had to pay yearly to the prince a fixed sum in money or agricultural produce, and the greater the number of able-bodied members, the less each individual had to pay. to use the language of political economy, the princes, the landed proprietors, and the free communes all appeared as buyers in the labour market; and the demand was far in excess of the supply. nowadays when young colonies or landed proprietors in an outlying corner of the world are similarly in need of labour, they seek to supply the want by organising a regular system of importing labourers--using illegal violent means, such as kidnapping expeditions, merely as an exceptional expedient. in old russia any such regularly organised system was impossible, and consequently illegal or violent measures were not the exception, but the rule. the chief practical advantage of the frequent military expeditions for those who took part in them was the acquisition of prisoners of war, who were commonly transformed into slaves by their captors. if it be true, as some assert, that only unbaptised prisoners were legally considered lawful booty, it is certain that in practice, before the unification of the principalities under the tsars of moscow, little distinction was made in this respect between unbaptised foreigners and orthodox russians.* a similar method was sometimes employed for the acquisition of free peasants: the more powerful proprietors organised kidnapping expeditions, and carried off by force the peasants settled on the land of their weaker neighbours. * on this subject see tchitcherin, "opyty po istorii russkago prava," moscow, , p. et seq.; and lokhvitski, "o plennykh po drevnemu russkomu pravu," moscow, . under these circumstances it was only natural that those who possessed this valuable commodity should do all in their power to keep it. many, if not all, of the free communes adopted the simple measure of refusing to allow a member to depart until he had found some one to take his place. the proprietors never, so far as we know, laid down formally such a principle, but in practice they did all in their power to retain the peasants actually settled on their estates. for this purpose some simply employed force, whilst others acted under cover of legal formalities. the peasant who accepted land from a proprietor rarely brought with him the necessary implements, cattle, and capital to begin at once his occupations, and to feed himself and his family till the ensuing harvest. he was obliged, therefore, to borrow from his landlord, and the debt thus contracted was easily converted into a means of preventing his departure if he wished to change his domicile. we need not enter into further details. the proprietors were the capitalists of the time. frequent bad harvests, plagues, fires, military raids, and similar misfortunes often reduced even prosperous peasants to beggary. the muzhik was probably then, as now, only too ready to accept a loan without taking the necessary precautions for repaying it. the laws relating to debt were terribly severe, and there was no powerful judicial organisation to protect the weak. if we remember all this, we shall not be surprised to learn that a considerable part of the peasantry were practically serfs before serfage was recognised by law. so long as the country was broken up into independent principalities, and each land-owner was almost an independent prince on his estate, the peasants easily found a remedy for these abuses in flight. they fled to a neighbouring proprietor who could protect them from their former landlord and his claims, or they took refuge in a neighbouring principality, where they were, of course, still safer. all this was changed when the independent principalities were transformed into the tsardom of muscovy. the tsars had new reasons for opposing the migration of the peasants and new means for preventing it. the old princes had simply given grants of land to those who served them, and left the grantee to do with his land what seemed good to him; the tsars, on the contrary, gave to those who served them merely the usufruct of a certain quantity of land, and carefully proportioned the quantity to the rank and the obligations of the receiver. in this change there was plainly a new reason for fixing the peasants to the soil. the real value of a grant depended not so much on the amount of land as on the number of peasants settled on it, and hence any migration of the population was tantamount to a removal of the ancient landmarks--that is to say, to a disturbance of the arrangements made by the tsar. suppose, for instance, that the tsar granted to a boyar or some lesser dignitary an estate on which were settled twenty peasant families, and that afterwards ten of these emigrated to neighbouring proprietors. in this case the recipient might justly complain that he had lost half of his estate--though the amount of land was in no way diminished--and that he was consequently unable to fulfil his obligations. such complaints would be rarely, if ever, made by the great dignitaries, for they had the means of attracting peasants to their estates;* but the small proprietors had good reason to complain, and the tsar was bound to remove their grievances. the attaching of the peasants to the soil was, in fact, the natural consequence of feudal tenures--an integral part of the muscovite political system. the tsar compelled the nobles to serve him, and was unable to pay them in money. he was obliged, therefore, to procure for them some other means of livelihood. evidently the simplest method of solving the difficulty was to give them land, with a certain number of labourers, and to prevent the labourers from migrating. * there are plain indications in the documents of the time that the great dignitaries were at first hostile to the adscriptio glebae. we find a similar phenomenon at a much more recent date in little russia. long after serfage had been legalised in that region by catherine ii., the great proprietors, such as rumyantsef, razumofski, bezborodko, continued to attract to their estates the peasants of the smaller proprietors. see the article of pogodin in the russkaya beseda, , no. , p. . towards the free communes the tsar had to act in the same way for similar reasons. the communes, like the nobles, had obligations to the sovereign, and could not fulfil them if the peasants were allowed to migrate from one locality to another. they were, in a certain sense, the property of the tsar, and it was only natural that the tsar should do for himself what he had done for his nobles. with these new reasons for fixing the peasants to the soil came, as has been said, new means of preventing migration. formerly it was an easy matter to flee to a neighbouring principality, but now all the principalities were combined under one ruler, and the foundations of a centralised administration were laid. severe fugitive laws were issued against those who attempted to change their domicile and against the proprietors who should harbour the runaways. unless the peasant chose to face the difficulties of "squatting" in the inhospitable northern forests, or resolved to brave the dangers of the steppe, he could nowhere escape the heavy hand of moscow.* * the above account of the origin of serfage in russia is founded on a careful examination of the evidence which we possess on the subject, but i must not conceal the fact that some of the statements are founded on inference rather than on direct, unequivocal documentary evidence. the whole question is one of great difficulty, and will in all probability not be satisfactorily solved until a large number of the old local land-registers (pistsoviya knigi) have been published and carefully studied. the indirect consequences of thus attaching the peasants to the soil did not at once become apparent. the serf retained all the civil rights he had hitherto enjoyed, except that of changing his domicile. he could still appear before the courts of law as a free man, freely engage in trade or industry, enter into all manner of contracts, and rent land for cultivation. but as time wore on, the change in the legal relation between the two classes became apparent in real life. in attaching the peasantry to the soil, the government had been so thoroughly engrossed with the direct financial aim that it entirely overlooked, or wilfully shut its eyes to, the ulterior consequences which must necessarily flow from the policy it adopted. it was evident that as soon as the relation between proprietor and peasant was removed from the region of voluntary contract by being rendered indissoluble, the weaker of the two parties legally tied together must fall completely under the power of the stronger, unless energetically protected by the law and the administration. to this inevitable consequence the government paid no attention. so far from endeavouring to protect the peasantry from the oppression of the proprietors, it did not even determine by law the mutual obligations which ought to exist between the two classes. taking advantage of this omission, the proprietors soon began to impose whatever obligations they thought fit; and as they had no legal means of enforcing fulfilment, they gradually introduced a patriarchal jurisdiction similar to that which they exercised over their slaves, with fines and corporal punishment as means of coercion. from this they ere long proceeded a step further, and began to sell their peasants without the land on which they were settled. at first this was merely a flagrant abuse unsanctioned by law, for the peasant had never been declared the private property of the landed proprietor; but the government tacitly sanctioned the practice, and even exacted dues on such sales, as on the sale of slaves. finally the right to sell peasants without land was formally recognised by various imperial ukazes.* * for instance, the ukazes of october th, , and june th, . see belaef, pp. - . the old communal organisation still existed on the estates of the proprietors, and had never been legally deprived of its authority, but it was now powerless to protect the members. the proprietor could easily overcome any active resistance by selling or converting into domestic servants the peasants who dared to oppose his will. the peasantry had thus sunk to the condition of serfs, practically deprived of legal protection and subject to the arbitrary will of the proprietors; but they were still in some respects legally and actually distinguished from the slaves on the one hand and the "free wandering people" on the other. these distinctions were obliterated by peter the great and his immediate successors. to effect his great civil and military reforms, peter required an annual revenue such as his predecessors had never dreamed of, and he was consequently always on the look-out for some new object of taxation. when looking about for this purpose, his eye naturally fell on the slaves, the domestic servants, and the free agricultural labourers. none of these classes paid taxes--a fact which stood in flagrant contradiction with his fundamental principle of polity, that every subject should in some way serve the state. he caused, therefore, a national census to be taken, in which all the various classes of the rural population--slaves, domestic servants, agricultural labourers, peasants--should be inscribed in one category; and he imposed equally on all the members of this category a poll-tax, in lieu of the former land-tax, which had lain exclusively on the peasants. to facilitate the collection of this tax the proprietors were made responsible for their serfs; and the "free wandering people" who did not wish to enter the army were ordered, under pain of being sent to the galleys, to inscribe themselves as members of a commune or as serfs to some proprietor. these measures had a considerable influence, if not on the actual position of the peasantry, at least on the legal conceptions regarding them. by making the proprietor pay the poll-tax for his serfs, as if they were slaves or cattle, the law seemed to sanction the idea that they were part of his goods and chattels. besides this, it introduced the entirely new principle that any member of the rural population not legally attached to the land or to a proprietor should be regarded as a vagrant, and treated accordingly. thus the principle that every subject should in some way serve the state had found its complete realisation. there was no longer any room in russia for free men. the change in the position of the peasantry, together with the hardships and oppression by which it was accompanied, naturally increased fugitivism and vagrancy. thousands of serfs ran away from their masters and fled to the steppe or sought enrolment in the army. to prevent this the government considered it necessary to take severe and energetic measures. the serfs were forbidden to enlist without the permission of their masters, and those who persisted in presenting themselves for enrolment were to be beaten "cruelly" (zhestoko) with the knout, and sent to the mines.* the proprietors, on the other hand, received the right to transport without trial their unruly serfs to siberia, and even to send them to the mines for life.** * ukaz of june d, . ** see ukaz of january th, , and of january th, . if these stringent measures had any effect it was not of long duration, for there soon appeared among the serfs a still stronger spirit of discontent and insubordination, which threatened to produce a general agrarian rising, and actually did create a movement resembling in many respects the jacquerie in france and the peasant war in germany. a glance at the causes of this movement will help us to understand the real nature of serfage in russia. up to this point serfage had, in spite of its flagrant abuses, a certain theoretical justification. it was, as we have seen, merely a part of a general political system in which obligatory service was imposed on all classes of the population. the serfs served the nobles in order that the nobles might serve the tsar. in this theory was entirely overturned by a manifesto of peter iii. abolishing the obligatory service of the noblesse. according to strict justice this act ought to have been followed by the liberation of the serfs, for if the nobles were no longer obliged to serve the state they had no just claim to the service of the peasants. the government had so completely forgotten the original meaning of serfage that it never thought of carrying out the measure to its logical consequences, but the peasantry held tenaciously to the ancient conceptions, and looked impatiently for a second manifesto liberating them from the power of the proprietors. reports were spread that such a manifesto really existed, and was being concealed by the nobles. a spirit of insubordination accordingly appeared among the rural population, and local insurrections broke out in several parts of the empire. at this critical moment peter iii. was dethroned and assassinated by a court conspiracy. the peasants, who, of course, knew nothing of the real motives of the conspirators, supposed that the tsar had been assassinated by those who wished to preserve serfage, and believed him to be a martyr in the cause of emancipation. at the news of the catastrophe their hopes of emancipation fell, but soon they were revived by new rumours. the tsar, it was said, had escaped from the conspirators and was in hiding. soon he would appear among his faithful peasants, and with their aid would regain his throne and punish the wicked oppressors. anxiously he was awaited, and at last the glad tidings came that he had appeared in the don country, that thousands of cossacks had joined his standard, that he was everywhere putting the proprietors to death without mercy, and that he would soon arrive in the ancient capital! peter iii. was in reality in his grave, but there was a terrible element of truth in these reports. a pretender, a cossack called pugatchef, had really appeared on the don, and had assumed the role which the peasants expected the late tsar to play. advancing through the country of the lower volga, he took several places of importance, put to death all the proprietors he could find, defeated on more than one occasion the troops sent against him, and threatened to advance into the heart of the empire. it seemed as if the old troublous times were about to be renewed--as if the country was once more to be pillaged by those wild cossacks of the southern steppe. but the pretender showed himself incapable of playing the part he had assumed. his inhuman cruelty estranged many who would otherwise have followed him, and he was too deficient in decision and energy to take advantage of favourable circumstances. if it be true that he conceived the idea of creating a peasant empire (muzhitskoe tsarstvo), he was not the man to realise such a scheme. after a series of mistakes and defeats he was taken prisoner, and the insurrection was quelled.* *whilst living among the bashkirs of the province of samara in i found some interesting traditions regarding this pretender. though nearly a century had elapsed since his death ( ), his name, his personal appearance, and his exploits were well known even to the younger generation. my informants firmly believed that he was not an impostor, but the genuine tsar, dethroned by his ambitious consort, and that he never was taken prisoner, but "went away into foreign lands." when i asked whether he was still alive, and whether he might not one day return, they replied that they did not know. meanwhile peter iii. had been succeeded by his consort, catherine ii. as she had no legal right to the throne, and was by birth a foreigner, she could not gain the affections of the people, and was obliged to court the favour of the noblesse. in such a difficult position she could not venture to apply her humane principles to the question of serfage. even during the first years of her reign, when she had no reason to fear agrarian disturbances, she increased rather than diminished the power of the proprietors over their serfs, and the pugatchef affair confirmed her in this line of policy. during her reign serfage may be said to have reached its climax. the serfs were regarded by the law as part of the master's immovable property*--as part of the working capital of the estate--and as such they were bought, sold, and given as presents** in hundreds and thousands, sometimes with the land, and sometimes without it, sometimes in families, and sometimes individually. the only legal restriction was that they should not be offered for sale at the time of the conscription, and that they should at no time be sold publicly by auction, because such a custom was considered as "unbecoming in a european state." in all other respects the serfs might be treated as private property; and this view is to be found not only in the legislation, but also in the popular conceptions. it became customary--a custom that continued down to the year --to compute a noble's fortune, not by his yearly revenue or the extent of his estate, but by the number of his serfs. instead of saying that a man had so many hundreds or thousands a year, or so many acres, it was commonly said that he had so many hundreds or thousands of "souls." and over these "souls" he exercised the most unlimited authority. the serfs had no legal means of self-defence. the government feared that the granting to them of judicial or administrative protection would inevitably awaken in them a spirit of insubordination, and hence it was ordered that those who presented complaints should be punished with the knout and sent to the mines.*** it was only in extreme cases, when some instance of atrocious cruelty happened to reach the ears of the sovereign, that the authorities interfered with the proprietor's jurisdiction, and these cases had not the slightest influence on the proprietors in general.**** * see ukaz of october th, . ** as an example of making presents of serfs, the following may be cited. count panin presented some of his subordinates for an imperial recompense, and on receiving a refusal, made them a present of serfs from his own estates.--belaef, p. . *** see the ukazes of august d, , and march th, . **** perhaps the most horrible case on record is that of a certain lady called saltykof, who was brought to justice in . according to the ukaz regarding her crimes, she had killed by inhuman tortures in the course of ten or eleven years about a hundred of her serfs, chiefly of the female sex, and among them several young girls of eleven and twelve years of age. according to popular belief her cruelty proceeded from cannibal propensities, but this was not confirmed by the judicial investigation. details in the russki arkhiv, , pp. - . the atrocities practised on the estate of count araktcheyef, the favourite of alexander i. at the commencement of last century, have been frequently described, and are scarcely less revolting. the last years of the eighteenth century may be regarded as the turning-point in the history of serfage. up till that time the power of the proprietors had steadily increased, and the area of serfage had rapidly expanded. under the emperor paul ( - ) we find the first decided symptoms of a reaction. he regarded the proprietors as his most efficient officers of police, but he desired to limit their authority, and for this purpose issued an ukaz to the effect that the serfs should not be forced to work for their masters more than three days in the week. with the accession of alexander i., in , commenced a long series of abortive projects for a general emancipation, and endless attempts to correct the more glaring abuses; and during the reign of nicholas no less than six committees were formed at different times to consider the question. but the practical result of these efforts was extremely small. the custom of giving grants of land with peasants was abolished; certain slight restrictions were placed on the authority of the proprietors; a number of the worst specimens of the class were removed from the administration of their estates; a few who were convicted of atrocious cruelty were exiled to siberia;* and some thousands of serfs were actually emancipated; but no decisive radical measures were attempted, and the serfs did not receive even the right of making formal complaints. serfage had, in fact, come to be regarded as a vital part of the state organisation, and the only sure basis for autocracy. it was therefore treated tenderly, and the rights and protection accorded by various ukazes were almost entirely illusory. *speranski, for instance, when governor of the province of penza, brought to justice, among others, a proprietor who had caused one of his serfs to be flogged to death, and a lady who had murdered a serf boy by pricking him with a pen-knife because he had neglected to take proper care of a tame rabbit committed to his charge!--korff, "zhizn speranskago," ii., p. , note. if we compare the development of serfage in russia and in western europe, we find very many points in common, but in russia the movement had certain peculiarities. one of the most important of these was caused by the rapid development of the autocratic power. in feudal europe, where there was no strong central authority to control the noblesse, the free rural communes entirely, or almost entirely, disappeared. they were either appropriated by the nobles or voluntarily submitted to powerful landed proprietors or to monasteries, and in this way the whole of the reclaimed land, with a few rare exceptions, became the property of the nobles or of the church. in russia we find the same movement, but it was arrested by the imperial power before all the land had been appropriated. the nobles could reduce to serfage the peasants settled on their estates, but they could not take possession of the free communes, because such an appropriation would have infringed the rights and diminished the revenues of the tsar. down to the commencement of the last century, it is true, large grants of land with serfs were made to favoured individuals among the noblesse, and in the reign of paul ( - ) a considerable number of estates were affected to the use of the imperial family under the name of appanages (udyelniya imteniya); but on the other hand, the extensive church lands, when secularised by catherine ii., were not distributed among the nobles, as in many other countries, but were transformed into state domains. thus, at the date of the emancipation ( ), by far the greater part of the territory belonged to the state, and one-half of the rural population were so-called state peasants (gosudarstvenniye krestyanye). regarding the condition of these state peasants, or peasants of the domains, as they are sometimes called, i may say briefly that they were, in a certain sense, serfs, being attached to the soil like the others; but their condition was, as a rule, somewhat better than the serfs in the narrower acceptation of the term. they had to suffer much from the tyranny and extortion of the special administration under which they lived, but they had more land and more liberty than was commonly enjoyed on the estates of resident proprietors, and their position was much less precarious. it is often asserted that the officials of the domains were worse than the serf-owners, because they had not the same interest in the prosperity of the peasantry; but this a priori reasoning does not stand the test of experience. it is not a little interesting to observe the numerical proportion and geographical distribution of these two rural classes. in european russia, as a whole, about three-eighths of the population were composed of serfs belonging to the nobles;* but if we take the provinces separately we find great variations from this average. in five provinces the serfs were less than three per cent., while in others they formed more than seventy per cent. of the population! this is not an accidental phenomenon. in the geographical distribution of serfage we can see reflected the origin and history of the institution. * the exact numbers, according to official data, were--entire population , , peasantry of all classes , , of these latter there were--state peasants , , peasants on the lands of proprietors , , peasants of the appanages and other departments , , ---------- , , if we were to construct a map showing the geographical distribution of the serf population, we should at once perceive that serfage radiated from moscow. starting from that city as a centre and travelling in any direction towards the confines of the empire, we find that, after making allowance for a few disturbing local influences, the proportion of serfs regularly declines in the successive provinces traversed. in the region representing the old muscovite tsardom they form considerably more than a half of the rural population. immediately to the south and east of this, in the territory that was gradually annexed during the seventeenth and first half of the eighteenth century, the proportion varies from twenty-five to fifty per cent., and in the more recently annexed provinces it steadily decreases till it almost reaches zero. we may perceive, too, that the percentage of serfs decreases towards the north much more rapidly than towards the east and south. this points to the essentially agricultural nature of serfage in its infancy. in the south and east there was abundance of rich "black earth" celebrated for its fertility, and the nobles in quest of estates naturally preferred this region to the inhospitable north, with its poor soil and severe climate. a more careful examination of the supposed map* would bring out other interesting facts. let me notice one by way of illustration. had serfage been the result of conquest we should have found the slavonic race settled on the state domains, and the finnish and tartar tribes supplying the serfs of the nobles. in reality we find quite the reverse; the finns and tartars were nearly all state peasants, and the serfs of the proprietors were nearly all of slavonic race. this is to be accounted for by the fact that the finnish and tartar tribes inhabit chiefly the outlying regions, in which serfage never attained such dimensions as in the centre of the empire. * such a map was actually constructed by troinitski ("krepostnoe naseleniye v rossii," st. petersburg, ), but it is not nearly so graphic as is might have been. the dues paid by the serfs were of three kinds: labour, money, and farm produce. the last-named is so unimportant that it may be dismissed in a few words. it consisted chiefly of eggs, chickens, lambs, mushrooms, wild berries, and linen cloth. the amount of these various products depended entirely on the will of the master. the other two kinds of dues, as more important, we must examine more closely. when a proprietor had abundance of fertile land and wished to farm on his own account, he commonly demanded from his serfs as much labour as possible. under such a master the serfs were probably free from money dues, and fulfilled their obligations to him by labouring in his fields in summer and transporting his grain to market in winter. when, on the contrary, a land-owner had more serf labour at his disposal than he required for the cultivation of his fields, he put the superfluous serfs "on obrok,"--that is to say, he allowed them to go and work where they pleased on condition of paying him a fixed yearly sum. sometimes the proprietor did not farm at all on his own account, in which case he put all the serfs "on obrok," and generally gave to the commune in usufruct the whole of the arable land and pasturage. in this way the mir played the part of a tenant. we have here the basis for a simple and important classification of estates in the time of serfage: ( ) estates on which the dues were exclusively in labour; ( ) estates on which the dues were partly in labour and partly in money; and ( ) estates on which the dues were exclusively in money. in the manner of exacting the labour dues there was considerable variety. according to the famous manifesto of paul i., the peasant could not be compelled to work more than three days in the week; but this law was by no means universally observed, and those who did observe it had various methods of applying it. a few took it literally and laid down a rule that the serfs should work for them three definite days in the week--for example, every monday, tuesday, and wednesday--but this was an extremely inconvenient method, for it prevented the field labour from being carried on regularly. a much more rational system was that according to which one-half of the serfs worked the first three days of the week, and the other half the remaining three. in this way there was, without any contravention of the law, a regular and constant supply of labour. it seems, however, that the great majority of the proprietors followed no strict method, and paid no attention whatever to paul's manifesto, which gave to the peasants no legal means of making formal complaints. they simply summoned daily as many labourers as they required. the evil consequences of this for the peasants' crops were in part counteracted by making the peasants sow their own grain a little later than that of the proprietor, so that the master's harvest work was finished, or nearly finished, before their grain was ripe. this combination did not, however, always succeed, and in cases where there was a conflict of interests, the serf was, of course, the losing party. all that remained for him to do in such cases was to work a little in his own fields before six o'clock in the morning and after nine o'clock at night, and in order to render this possible he economised his strength, and worked as little as possible in his master's fields during the day. it has frequently been remarked, and with much truth--though the indiscriminate application of the principle has often led to unjustifiable legislative inactivity--that the practical result of institutions depends less on the intrinsic abstract nature of the institutions themselves than on the character of those who work them. so it was with serfage. when a proprietor habitually acted towards his serfs in an enlightened, rational, humane way, they had little reason to complain of their position, and their life was much easier than that of many men who live in a state of complete individual freedom and unlimited, unrestricted competition. however paradoxical the statement may seem to those who are in the habit of regarding all forms of slavery from the sentimental point of view, it is unquestionable that the condition of serfs under such a proprietor as i have supposed was more enviable than that of the majority of english agricultural labourers. each family had a house of its own, with a cabbage-garden, one or more horses, one or two cows, several sheep, poultry, agricultural implements, a share of the communal land, and everything else necessary for carrying on its small farming operations; and in return for this it had to supply the proprietor with an amount of labour which was by no means oppressive. if, for instance, a serf had three adult sons--and the households, as i have said, were at that time generally numerous--two of them might work for the proprietor whilst he himself and the remaining son could attend exclusively to the family affairs. by the events which used to be called "the visitations of god" he had no fear of being permanently ruined. if his house was burnt, or his cattle died from the plague, or a series of "bad years" left him without seed for his fields, he could always count upon temporary assistance from his master. he was protected, too, against all oppression and exactions on the part of the officials; for the police, when there was any call for its interference, applied to the proprietor, who was to a certain extent responsible for his serfs. thus the serf might live a tranquil, contented life, and die at a ripe old age, without ever having been conscious that serfage was a grievous burden. if all the serfs had lived in this way we might, perhaps, regret that the emancipation was ever undertaken. in reality there was, as the french say, le revers de la medaille, and serfage generally appeared under a form very different from that which i have just depicted. the proprietors were, unfortunately, not all of the enlightened, humane type. amongst them were many who demanded from their serfs an inordinate amount of labour, and treated them in a very inhuman fashion. these oppressors of their serfs may be divided into four categories. first, there were the proprietors who managed their own estates, and oppressed simply for the purpose of increasing their revenues. secondly, there were a number of retired officers who wished to establish a certain order and discipline on their estates, and who employed for this purpose the barbarous measures which were at that time used in the army, believing that merciless corporal punishment was the only means of curing laziness, disorderliness and other vices. thirdly, there were the absentees who lived beyond their means, and demanded from their steward, under pain of giving him or his son as a recruit, a much greater yearly sum than the estate could be reasonably expected to yield. lastly, in the latter years of serfage, there were a number of men who bought estates as a mercantile speculation, and made as much money out of them as they could in the shortest possible space of time. of all hard masters, the last-named were the most terrible. utterly indifferent to the welfare of the serfs and the ultimate fate of the property, they cut down the timber, sold the cattle, exacted heavy money dues under threats of giving the serfs or their children as recruits, presented to the military authorities a number of conscripts greater than was required by law--selling the conscription receipts (zatchetniya kvitantsii) to the merchants and burghers who were liable to the conscription but did not wish to serve--compelled some of the richer serfs to buy their liberty at an enormous price, and, in a word, used every means, legal and illegal, for extracting money. by this system of management they ruined the estate completely in the course of a few years; but by that time they had realised probably the whole sum paid, with a very fair profit from the operation; and this profit could be considerably augmented by selling a number of the peasant families for transportation to another estate (na svoz), or by mortgaging the property in the opekunski sovet--a government institution which lent money on landed property without examining carefully the nature of the security. as to the means which the proprietors possessed of oppressing their peasants, we must distinguish between the legal and the actual. the legal were almost as complete as any one could desire. "the proprietor," it is said in the laws (vol. ix, p. , ed. an. ), "may impose on his serfs every kind of labour, may take from them money dues (obrok) and demand from them personal service, with this one restriction, that they should not be thereby ruined, and that the number of days fixed by law should be left to them for their own work."* besides this, he had the right to transform peasants into domestic servants, and might, instead of employing them in his own service, hire them out to others who had the rights and privileges of noblesse (pp. - ). for all offences committed against himself or against any one under his jurisdiction he could subject the guilty ones to corporal punishment not exceeding forty lashes with the birch or fifteen blows with the stick (p. ); and if he considered any of his serfs as incorrigible, he could present them to the authorities to be drafted into the army or transported to siberia as he might desire (pp. - ). in cases of insubordination, where the ordinary domestic means of discipline did not suffice, he could call in the police and the military to support his authority. * i give here the references to the code, because russians commonly believe and assert that the hiring out of serfs, the infliction of corporal punishment, and similar practices were merely abuses unauthorised by law. such were the legal means by which the proprietor might oppress his peasants, and it will be readily understood that they were very considerable and very elastic. by law he had the power to impose any dues in labour or money which he might think fit, and in all cases the serfs were ordered to be docile and obedient (p. ). corporal punishment, though restricted by law, he could in reality apply to any extent. certainly none of the serfs, and very few of the proprietors, were aware that the law placed any restriction on this right. all the proprietors were in the habit of using corporal punishment as they thought proper, and unless a proprietor became notorious for inhuman cruelty the authorities never thought of interfering. but in the eyes of the peasants corporal punishment was not the worst. what they feared infinitely more than the birch or the stick was the proprietor's power of giving them or their sons as recruits. the law assumed that this extreme means would be employed only against those serfs who showed themselves incorrigibly vicious or insubordinate; but the authorities accepted those presented without making any investigations, and consequently the proprietor might use this power as an effective means of extortion. against these means of extortion and oppression the serfs had no legal protection. the law provided them with no means of resisting any injustice to which they might be subjected, or of bringing to punishment the master who oppressed and ruined them. the government, notwithstanding its sincere desire to protect them from inordinate burdens and cruel treatment, rarely interfered between the master and his serfs, being afraid of thereby undermining the authority of the proprietors, and awakening among the peasantry a spirit of insubordination. the serfs were left, therefore, to their own resources, and had to defend themselves as best they could. the simplest way was open mutiny; but this was rarely employed, for they knew by experience that any attempt of the kind would be at once put down by the military and mercilessly punished. much more favourite and efficient methods were passive resistance, flight, and fire-raising or murder. we might naturally suppose that an unscrupulous proprietor, armed with the enormous legal and actual power which i have just described, could very easily extort from his peasants anything he desired. in reality, however, the process of extortion, when it exceeded a certain measure, was a very difficult operation. the russian peasant has a capacity of patient endurance that would do honour to a martyr, and a power of continued, dogged, passive resistance such as is possessed, i believe, by no other class of men in europe; and these qualities formed a very powerful barrier against the rapacity of unconscientious proprietors. as soon as the serfs remarked in their master a tendency to rapacity and extortion, they at once took measures to defend themselves. their first step was to sell secretly the live stock they did not actually require, and all their movable property except the few articles necessary for everyday use; then the little capital realised was carefully hidden. when this had been effected, the proprietor might threaten and punish as he liked, but he rarely succeeded in unearthing the treasure. many a peasant, under such circumstances, bore patiently the most cruel punishment, and saw his sons taken away as recruits, and yet he persisted in declaring that he had no money to ransom himself and his children. a spectator in such a case would probably have advised him to give up his little store of money, and thereby liberate himself from persecution; but the peasants reasoned otherwise. they were convinced, and not without reason, that the sacrifice of their little capital would merely put off the evil day, and that the persecution would very soon recommence. in this way they would have to suffer as before, and have the additional mortification of feeling that they had spent to no purpose the little that they possessed. their fatalistic belief in the "perhaps" (avos') came here to their aid. perhaps the proprietor might become weary of his efforts when he saw that they led to no result, or perhaps something might occur which would remove the persecutor. it always happened, however, that when a proprietor treated his serfs with extreme injustice and cruelty, some of them lost patience, and sought refuge in flight. as the estates lay perfectly open on all sides, and it was utterly impossible to exercise a strict supervision, nothing was easier than to run away, and the fugitive might be a hundred miles off before his absence was noticed. but the oppressed serf was reluctant to adopt such an extreme measure. he had almost always a wife and family, and he could not possibly take them with him; flight, therefore, was expatriation for life in its most terrible form. besides this, the life of a fugitive was by no means enviable. he was liable at any moment to fall into the hands of the police, and to be put into prison or sent back to his master. so little charm, indeed, did this life present that not infrequently after a few months or a few years the fugitive returned of his own accord to his former domicile. regarding fugitives or passportless wanderers in general, i may here remark parenthetically that there were two kinds. in the first place, there was the young, able-bodied peasant, who fled from the oppression of his master or from the conscription. such a fugitive almost always sought out for himself a new domicile--generally in the southern provinces, where there was a great scarcity of labourers, and where many proprietors habitually welcomed all peasants who presented themselves, without making any inquiries as to passports. in the second place, there were those who chose fugitivism as a permanent mode of life. these were, for the most part, men or women of a certain age--widowers or widows--who had no close family ties, and who were too infirm or too lazy to work. the majority of these assumed the character of pilgrims. as such they could always find enough to eat, and could generally even collect a few roubles with which to grease the palm of any zealous police-officer who should arrest them. for a life of this kind russia presented peculiar facilities. there was abundance of monasteries, where all comers could live for three days without questions being asked, and where those who were willing to do a little work for the patron saint might live for a much longer period. then there were the towns, where the rich merchants considered almsgiving as very profitable for salvation. and, lastly, there were the villages, where a professing pilgrim was sure to be hospitably received and entertained so long as he refrained from stealing and other acts too grossly inconsistent with his assumed character. for those who contented themselves with simple fare, and did not seek to avoid the usual privations of a wanderer's life, these ordinary means of subsistence were amply sufficient. those who were more ambitious and more cunning often employed their talents with great success in the world of the old ritualists and sectarians. the last and most desperate means of defense which the serfs possessed were fire-raising and murder. with regard to the amount of fire-raising there are no trustworthy statistics. with regard to the number of agrarian murders i once obtained some interesting statistical data, but unfortunately lost them. i may say, however, that these cases were not very numerous. this is to be explained in part by the patient, long-suffering character of the peasantry, and in part by the fact that the great majority of the proprietors were by no means such inhuman taskmasters as is sometimes supposed. when a case did occur, the administration always made a strict investigation--punishing the guilty with exemplary severity, and taking no account of the provocation to which they had been subjected. the peasantry, on the contrary--at least, when the act was not the result of mere personal vengeance--secretly sympathised with "the unfortunates," and long cherished their memory as that of men who had suffered for the mir. in speaking of the serfs i have hitherto confined my attention to the members of the mir, or rural commune--that is to say, the peasants in the narrower sense of the term; but besides these there were the dvorovuye, or domestic servants, and of these i must add a word or two. the dvorovuye were domestic slaves rather than serfs in the proper sense of the term. let us, however, avoid wounding unnecessarily russian sensibilities by the use of the ill-sounding word. we may call the class in question "domestics"--remembering, of course, that they were not quite domestic servants in the ordinary sense. they received no wages, were not at liberty to change masters, possessed almost no legal rights, and might be punished, hired out, or sold by their owners without any infraction of the written law. these "domestics" were very numerous--out of all proportion to the work to be performed--and could consequently lead a very lazy life;* but the peasant considered it a great misfortune to be transferred to their ranks, for he thereby lost his share of the communal land and the little independence which he enjoyed. it very rarely happened, however, that the proprietor took an able-bodied peasant as domestic. the class generally kept up its numbers by the legitimate and illegitimate method of natural increase; and involuntary additions were occasionally made when orphans were left without near relatives, and no other family wished to adopt them. to this class belonged the lackeys, servant-girls, cooks, coachmen, stable-boys, gardeners, and a large number of nondescript old men and women who had no very clearly defined functions. if the proprietor had a private theatre or orchestra, it was from this class that the actors and musicians were drawn. those of them who were married and had children occupied a position intermediate between the ordinary domestic servant and the peasant. on the one hand, they received from the master a monthly allowance of food and a yearly allowance of clothes, and they were obliged to live in the immediate vicinity of the mansion-house; but, on the other hand, they had each a separate house or apartment, with a little cabbage-garden, and commonly a small plot of flax. the unmarried ones lived in all respects like ordinary domestic servants. * those proprietors who kept orchestras, large packs of hounds, &c., had sometimes several hundred domestic serfs. the number of these domestic serfs being generally out of all proportion to the amount of work they had to perform, they were imbued with a hereditary spirit of indolence, and they performed lazily and carelessly what they had to do. on the other hand, they were often sincerely attached to the family they served, and occasionally proved by acts their fidelity and attachment. here is an instance out of many for which i can vouch. an old nurse, whose mistress was dangerously ill, vowed that, in the event of the patient's recovery, she would make a pilgrimage, first to kief, the holy city on the dnieper, and afterwards to solovetsk, a much revered monastery on an island in the white sea. the patient recovered, and the old woman, in fulfilment of her vow, walked more than two thousand miles! this class of serfs might well be called domestic slaves, but i must warn the reader that he ought not to use the expression when speaking with russians, because they are extremely sensitive on the point. serfage, they say, was something quite different from slavery, and slavery never existed in russia. the first part of this assertion is perfectly true, and the second part perfectly false. in old times, as i have said above, slavery was a recognised institution in russia as in other countries. one can hardly read a few pages of the old chronicles without stumbling on references to slaves; and i distinctly remember--though i cannot at this moment give chapter and verse--that one of the old russian princes was so valiant and so successful in his wars that during his reign a slave might be bought for a few coppers. as late as the beginning of last century the domestic serfs were sold very much as domestic slaves used to be sold in countries where slavery was recognised as a legal institution. here is an example of the customary advertisement; i take it almost at random from the moscow gazette of :--"to be sold: three coachmen, well trained and handsome; and two girls, the one eighteen, and the other fifteen years of age, both of them good-looking, and well acquainted with various kinds of handiwork. in the same house there are for sale two hairdressers; the one, twenty-one years of age, can read, write, play on a musical instrument, and act as huntsman; the other can dress ladies' and gentlemen's hair. in the same house are sold pianos and organs." a little farther on in the same number of the paper, a first-rate clerk, a carver, and a lackey are offered for sale, and the reason assigned is a superabundance of the articles in question (za izlishestvom). in some instances it seems as if the serfs and the cattle were intentionally put in the same category, as in the following announcement: "in this house one can buy a coachman and a dutch cow about to calve." the style of these advertisements, and the frequent recurrence of the same addresses, show that there was at this time in moscow a regular class of slave-dealers. the humane alexander i. prohibited advertisements of this kind, but he did not put down the custom which they represented, and his successor, nicholas i., took no effective measures for its repression. of the whole number of serfs belonging to the proprietors, the domestics formed, according to the census of , no less than / per cent. ( . ), and their numbers were evidently rapidly increasing, for in the preceding census they represented only . per cent. of the whole. this fact seems all the more significant when we observe that during this period the number of peasant serfs had diminished. i must now bring this long chapter to an end. my aim has been to represent serfage in its normal, ordinary forms rather than in its occasional monstrous manifestations. of these latter i have a collection containing ample materials for a whole series of sensation novels, but i refrain from quoting them, because i do not believe that the criminal annals of a country give a fair representation of its real condition. on the other hand, i do not wish to whitewash serfage or attenuate its evil consequences. no great body of men could long wield such enormous uncontrolled power without abusing it,* and no large body of men could long live under such power without suffering morally and materially from its pernicious influence. if serfage did not create that moral apathy and intellectual lethargy which formed, as it were, the atmosphere of russian provincial life, it did much at least to preserve it. in short, serfage was the chief barrier to all material and moral progress, and in a time of moral awakening such as that which i have described in the preceding chapter, the question of emancipation naturally came at once to the front. * the number of deposed proprietors--or rather the number of estates placed under curators in consequence of the abuse of authority on the part of their owners--amounted in to . so at least i found in an official ms. document shown to me by the late nicholas milutin. chapter xxix the emancipation of the serfs the question raised--chief committee--the nobles of the lithuanian provinces--the tsar's broad hint to the noblesse--enthusiasm in the press--the proprietors--political aspirations--no opposition--the government--public opinion--fear of the proletariat--the provincial committees--the elaboration commission--the question ripens--provincial deputies--discontent and demonstrations--the manifesto--fundamental principles of the law--illusions and disappointment of the serfs--arbiters of the peace--a characteristic incident--redemption--who effected the emancipation? it is a fundamental principle of russian political organisation that all initiative in public affairs proceeds from the autocratic power. the widespread desire, therefore, for the emancipation of the serfs did not find free expression so long as the emperor kept silence regarding his intentions. the educated classes watched anxiously for some sign, and soon a sign was given to them. in march, --a few days after the publication of the manifesto announcing the conclusion of peace with the western powers--his majesty said to the marshals of noblesse in moscow: "for the removal of certain unfounded reports i consider it necessary to declare to you that i have not at present the intention of annihilating serfage; but certainly, as you yourselves know, the existing manner of possessing serfs cannot remain unchanged. it is better to abolish serfage from above than to await the time when it will begin to abolish itself from below. i request you, gentlemen, to consider how this can be put into execution, and to submit my words to the noblesse for their consideration." these words were intended to sound the noblesse and induce them to make a voluntary proposal, but they had not the desired effect. abolitionist enthusiasm was rare among the great nobles, and those who really wished to see serfage abolished considered the imperial utterance too vague and oracular to justify them in taking the initiative. as no further steps were taken for some time, the excitement caused by the incident soon subsided, and many people assumed that the consideration of the problem had been indefinitely postponed. "the government," it was said, "evidently intended to raise the question, but on perceiving the indifference or hostility of the landed proprietors, it became frightened and drew back." the emperor was in reality disappointed. he had expected that his "faithful moscow noblesse," of which he was wont to say he was himself a member, would at once respond to his call, and that the ancient capital would have the honour of beginning the work. and if the example were thus given by moscow, he had no doubt that it would soon be followed by the other provinces. he now perceived that the fundamental principles on which the emancipation should be effected must be laid down by the government, and for this purpose he created a secret committee composed of several great officers of state. this "chief committee for peasant affairs," as it was afterwards called, devoted six months to studying the history of the question. emancipation schemes were by no means a new phenomenon in russia. ever since the time of catherine ii. the government had thought of improving the condition of the serfs, and on more than one occasion a general emancipation had been contemplated. in this way the question had slowly ripened, and certain fundamental principles had come to be pretty generally recognised. of these principles the most important was that the state should not consent to any project which would uproot the peasant from the soil and allow him to wander about at will; for such a measure would render the collection of the taxes impossible, and in all probability produce the most frightful agrarian disorders. and to this general principle there was an important corollary: if severe restrictions were to be placed on free migration, it would be necessary to provide the peasantry with land in the immediate vicinity of the villages; otherwise they must inevitably fall back under the power of the proprietors, and a new and worse kind of serfage would thus be created. but in order to give land to the peasantry it would be necessary to take it from the proprietors; and this expropriation seemed to many a most unjustifiable infringement of the sacred rights of property. it was this consideration that had restrained nicholas from taking any decisive measures with regard to serfage; and it had now considerable weight with the members of the committee, who were nearly all great land-owners. notwithstanding the strenuous exertions of the grand duke constantine, who had been appointed a member for the express purpose of accelerating the proceedings, the committee did not show as much zeal and energy as was desired, and orders were given to take some decided step. at that moment a convenient opportunity presented itself. in the lithuanian provinces, where the nobles were polish by origin and sympathies, the miserable condition of the peasantry had induced the government in the preceding reign to limit the arbitrary power of the serf-owners by so-called inventories, in which the mutual obligations of masters and serfs were regulated and defined. these inventories had caused great dissatisfaction, and the proprietors now proposed that they should be revised. of this the government determined to take advantage. on the somewhat violent assumption that these proprietors wished to emancipate their serfs, an imperial rescript was prepared approving of their supposed desire, and empowering them to form committees for the preparation of definite projects.* in the rescript itself the word emancipation was studiously avoided, but there could be no doubt as to the implied meaning, for it was expressly stated in the supplementary considerations that "the abolition of serfage must be effected not suddenly, but gradually." four days later the minister of the interior, in accordance with a secret order from the emperor, sent a circular to the governors and marshals of noblesse all over russia proper, informing them that the nobles of the lithuanian provinces "had recognised the necessity of liberating the peasants," and that "this noble intention" had afforded peculiar satisfaction to his majesty. a copy of the rescript and the fundamental principles to be observed accompanied the circular, "in case the nobles of other provinces should express a similar desire." * this celebrated document is known as "the rescript to nazimof." more than once in the course of conversation i did all in my power, within the limits of politeness and discretion, to extract from general nazimof a detailed account of this important episode, but my efforts were unsuccessful. this circular produced an immense sensation throughout the country. no one could for a moment misunderstand the suggestion that the nobles of other provinces might possibly express a desire to liberate their serfs. such vague words, when spoken by an autocrat, have a very definite and unmistakable meaning, which prudent loyal subjects have no difficulty in understanding. if any doubted, their doubts were soon dispelled, for the emperor, a few weeks later, publicly expressed a hope that, with the help of god and the co-operation of the nobles, the work would be successfully accomplished. the die was cast, and the government looked anxiously to see the result. the periodical press--which was at once the product and the fomenter of the liberal aspirations--hailed the raising of the question with boundless enthusiasm. the emancipation, it was said, would certainly open a new and glorious epoch in the national history. serfage was described as an ulcer that had long been poisoning the national blood; as an enormous weight under which the whole nation groaned; as an insurmountable obstacle, preventing all material and moral progress; as a cumbrous load which rendered all free, vigorous action impossible, and prevented russia from rising to the level of the western nations. if russia had succeeded in stemming the flood of adverse fortune in spite of this millstone round her neck, what might she not accomplish when free and untrammelled? all sections of the literary world had arguments to offer in support of the foregone conclusion. the moralists declared that all the prevailing vices were the product of serfage, and that moral progress was impossible in an atmosphere of slavery; the lawyers held that the arbitrary authority of the proprietors over the peasants had no legal basis; the economists explained that free labour was an indispensable condition of industrial and commercial prosperity; the philosophical historians showed that the normal historical development of the country demanded the immediate abolition of this superannuated remnant of barbarism; and the writers of the sentimental, gushing type poured forth endless effusions about brotherly love to the weak and the oppressed. in a word, the press was for the moment unanimous, and displayed a feverish excitement which demanded a liberal use of superlatives. this enthusiastic tone accorded perfectly with the feelings of a large section of the nobles. nearly the whole of the noblesse was more or less affected by the newborn enthusiasm for everything just, humanitarian, and liberal. the aspirations found, of course, their most ardent representatives among the educated youth; but they were by no means confined to the younger men, who had passed through the universities and had always regarded serfage as a stain on the national honour. many a saul was found among the prophets. many an old man, with grey hairs and grandchildren, who had all his life placidly enjoyed the fruits of serf labour, was now heard to speak of serfage as an antiquated institution which could not be reconciled with modern humanitarian ideas; and not a few of all ages, who had formerly never thought of reading books or newspapers, now perused assiduously the periodical literature, and picked up the liberal and humanitarian phrases with which it was filled. this abolitionist fervour was considerably augmented by certain political aspirations which did not appear in the newspapers, but which were at that time very generally entertained. in spite of the press-censure a large section of the educated classes had become acquainted with the political literature of france and germany, and had imbibed therefrom an unbounded admiration for constitutional government. a constitution, it was thought, would necessarily remove all political evils and create something like a political millennium. and it was not to be a constitution of the ordinary sort--the fruit of compromise between hostile political parties--but an institution designed calmly according to the latest results of political science, and so constructed that all classes would voluntarily contribute to the general welfare. the necessary prelude to this happy era of political liberty was, of course, the abolition of serfage. when the nobles had given up their power over their serfs they would receive a constitution as an indemnification and reward. there were, however, many nobles of the old school who remained impervious to all these new feelings and ideas. on them the raising of the emancipation question had a very different effect. they had no source of revenue but their estates, and they could not conceive the possibility of working their estates without serf labour. if the peasant was indolent and careless even under strict supervision, what would he become when no longer under the authority of a master? if the profits from farming were already small, what would they be when no one would work without wages? and this was not the worst, for it was quite evident from the circular that the land question was to be raised, and that a considerable portion of each estate would be transferred, at least for a time, to the emancipated peasants. to the proprietors who looked at the question in this way the prospect of emancipation was certainly not at all agreeable, but we must not imagine that they felt as english land-owners would feel if threatened by a similar danger. in england a hereditary estate has for the family a value far beyond what it would bring in the market. it is regarded as one and indivisible, and any dismemberment of it would be looked upon as a grave family misfortune. in russia, on the contrary, estates have nothing of this semi-sacred character, and may be at any time dismembered without outraging family feeling or traditional associations. indeed, it is not uncommon that when a proprietor dies, leaving only one estate and several children, the property is broken up into fractions and divided among the heirs. even the prospect of pecuniary sacrifice did not alarm the russians so much as it would alarm englishmen. men who keep no accounts and take little thought for the morrow are much less averse to making pecuniary sacrifices--whether for a wise or a foolish purpose--than those who carefully arrange their mode of life according to their income. still, after due allowance has been made for these peculiarities, it must be admitted that the feeling of dissatisfaction and alarm was very widespread. even russians do not like the prospect of losing a part of their land and income. no protest, however, was entered, and no opposition was made. those who were hostile to the measure were ashamed to show themselves selfish and unpatriotic. at the same time they knew very well that the emperor, if he wished, could effect the emancipation in spite of them, and that resistance on their part would draw down upon them the imperial displeasure, without affording any compensating advantage. they knew, too, that there was a danger from below, so that any useless show of opposition would be like playing with matches in a powder-magazine. the serfs would soon hear that the tsar desired to set them free, and they might, if they suspected that the proprietors were trying to frustrate the tsar's benevolent intentions, use violent measures to get rid of the opposition. the idea of agrarian massacres had already taken possession of many timid minds. besides this, all classes of the proprietors felt that if the work was to be done, it should be done by the noblesse and not by the bureaucracy. if it were effected by the nobles the interests of the land-owners would be duly considered, but if it were effected by the administration without their concurrence and co-operation their interests would be neglected, and there would inevitably be an enormous amount of jobbery and corruption. in accordance with this view, the noblesse corporations of the various provinces successively requested permission to form committees for the consideration of the question, and during the year a committee was opened in almost every province in which serfage existed. in this way the question was apparently handed over for solution to the nobles, but in reality the noblesse was called upon merely to advise, and not to legislate. the government had not only laid down the fundamental principles of the scheme; it continually supervised the work of construction, and it reserved to itself the right of modifying or rejecting the projects proposed by the committees. according to these fundamental principles the serfs should be emancipated gradually, so that for some time they would remain attached to the glebe and subject to the authority of the proprietors. during this transition period they should redeem by money payments or labour their houses and gardens, and enjoy in usufruct a certain quantity of land, sufficient to enable them to support themselves and to fulfil their obligations to the state as well as to the proprietor. in return for this land they should pay a yearly rent in money, produce or labour over and above the yearly sum paid for the redemption of their houses and gardens. as to what should be done after the expiry of the transition period, the government seems to have had no clearly conceived intentions. probably it hoped that by that time the proprietors and their emancipated serfs would have invented some convenient modus vivendi, and that nothing but a little legislative regulation would be necessary. but radical legislation is like the letting-out of water. these fundamental principles, adopted at first with a view to mere immediate practical necessity, soon acquired a very different significance. to understand this we must return to the periodical literature. until the serf question came to be discussed, the reform aspirations were very vague, and consequently there was a remarkable unanimity among their representatives. the great majority of the educated classes were unanimously of opinion that russia should at once adopt from the west all those liberal principles and institutions the exclusion of which had prevented the country from rising to the level of the western nations. but very soon symptoms of a schism became apparent. whilst the literature in general was still preaching the doctrine that russia should adopt everything that was "liberal," a few voices began to be heard warning the unwary that much which bore the name of liberal was in reality already antiquated and worthless--that russia ought not to follow blindly in the footsteps of other nations, but ought rather to profit by their experience, and avoid the errors into which they had fallen. the chief of these errors was, according to these new teachers, the abnormal development of individualism--the adoption of that principle of laissez faire which forms the basis of what may be called the orthodox school of political economists. individualism and unrestricted competition, it was said, have now reached in the west an abnormal and monstrous development. supported by the laissez faire principle, they have led--and must always lead--to the oppression of the weak, the tyranny of capital, the impoverishment of the masses for the benefit of the few, and the formation of a hungry, dangerous proletariat! this has already been recognised by the most advanced thinkers of france and germany. if the older countries cannot at once cure those evils, that is no reason for russia to inoculate herself with them. she is still at the commencement of her career, and it would be folly for her to wander voluntarily for ages in the desert, when a direct route to the promised land has been already discovered. in order to convey some idea of the influence which this teaching exercised, i must here recall, at the risk of repeating myself, what i said in a former chapter. the russians, as i have there pointed out, have a peculiar way of treating political and social questions. having received their political education from books, they naturally attribute to theoretical considerations an importance which seems to us exaggerated. when any important or trivial question arises, they at once launch into a sea of philosophical principles, and pay less attention to the little objects close at hand than to the big ones that appear on the distant horizon of the future. and when they set to work at any political reform they begin ab ovo. as they have no traditional prejudices to fetter them, and no traditional principles to lead them, they naturally take for their guidance the latest conclusions of political philosophy. bearing this in mind, let us see how it affected the emancipation question. the proletariat--described as a dangerous monster which was about to swallow up society in western europe, and which might at any moment cross the frontier unless kept out by vigorous measures--took possession of the popular imagination, and aroused the fears of the reading public. to many it seemed that the best means of preventing the formation of a proletariat in russia was the securing of land for the emancipated serfs and the careful preservation of the rural commune. "now is the moment," it was said, "for deciding the important question whether russia is to fall a prey, like the western nations, to this terrible evil, or whether she is to protect herself for ever against it. in the decision of this question lies the future destiny of the country. if the peasants be emancipated without land, or if those communal institutions which give to every man a share of the soil and secure this inestimable boon for the generations still unborn be now abolished, a proletariat will be rapidly formed, and the peasantry will become a disorganised mass of homeless wanderers like the english agricultural labourers. if, on the contrary, a fair share of land be granted to them, and if the commune be made proprietor of the land ceded, the danger of a proletariat is for ever removed, and russia will thereby set an example to the civilised world! never has a nation had such an opportunity of making an enormous leap forward on the road of progress, and never again will the opportunity occur. the western nations have discovered their error when it is too late--when the peasantry have been already deprived of their land, and the labouring classes of the towns have already fallen a prey to the insatiable cupidity of the capitalists. in vain their most eminent thinkers warn and exhort. ordinary remedies are no longer of any avail. but russia may avoid these dangers, if she but act wisely and prudently in this great matter. the peasants are still in actual, if not legal, possession of the land, and there is as yet no proletariat in the towns. all that is necessary, therefore, is to abolish the arbitrary authority of the proprietors without expropriating the peasants, and without disturbing the existing communal institutions, which form the best barrier against pauperism." these ideas were warmly espoused by many proprietors, and exercised a very great influence on the deliberations of the provincial committees. in these committees there were generally two groups. the majorities, whilst making large concessions to the claims of justice and expediency, endeavoured to defend, as far as possible, the interests of their class; the minorities, though by no means indifferent to the interests of the class to which they belonged, allowed the more abstract theoretical considerations to be predominant. at first the majorities did all in their power to evade the fundamental principles laid down by the government as much too favourable to the peasantry; but when they perceived that public opinion, as represented by the press, went much further than the government, they clung to these fundamental principles--which secured at least the fee simple of the estate to the landlord--as their anchor of safety. between the two parties arose naturally a strong spirit of hostility, and the government, which wished to have the support of the minorities, found it advisable that both should present their projects for consideration. as the provincial committees worked independently, there was considerable diversity in the conclusions at which they arrived. the task of codifying these conclusions, and elaborating out of them a general scheme of emancipation, was entrusted to a special imperial commission, composed partly of officials and partly of landed proprietors named by the emperor.* those who believed that the question had really been handed over to the noblesse assumed that this commission would merely arrange the materials presented by the provincial committees, and that the emancipation law would thereafter be elaborated by a national assembly of deputies elected by the nobles. in reality the commission, working in st. petersburg under the direct guidance and control of the government, fulfilled a very different and much more important function. using the combined projects merely as a storehouse from which it could draw the proposals it desired, it formed a new project of its own, which ultimately received, after undergoing modification in detail, the imperial assent. instead of being a mere chancellerie, as many expected, it became in a certain sense the author of the emancipation law. * known as the redaktsionnaya komissiya, or elaboration commission. strictly speaking, there were two, but they are commonly spoken of as one. there was, as we have seen, in nearly all the provincial committees a majority and a minority, the former of which strove to defend the interests of the proprietors, whilst the latter paid more attention to theoretical considerations, and endeavoured to secure for the peasantry a large amount of land and communal self-government. in the commission there were the same two parties, but their relative strength was very different. here the men of theory, instead of forming a minority, were more numerous than their opponents, and enjoyed the support of the government, which regulated the proceedings. in its instructions we see how much the question had ripened under the influence of the theoretical considerations. there is no longer any trace of the idea that the emancipation should be gradual; on the contrary, it is expressly declared that the immediate effect of the law should be the complete abolition of the proprietor's authority. there is even evidence of a clear intention of preventing the proprietor as far as possible from exercising any influence over his former serfs. the sharp distinction between the land occupied by the village and the arable land to be ceded in usufruct likewise disappears, and it is merely said that efforts should be made to enable the peasants to become proprietors of the land they required. the aim of the government had thus become clear and well defined. the task to be performed was to transform the serfs at once, and with the least possible disturbance of the existing economic conditions, into a class of small communal proprietors--that is to say, a class of free peasants possessing a house and garden and a share of the communal land. to effect this it was merely necessary to declare the serf personally free, to draw a clear line of demarcation between the communal land and the rest of the estate, and to determine the price or rent which should be paid for this communal property, inclusive of the land on which the village was built. the law was prepared in strict accordance with these principles. as to the amount of land to be ceded, it was decided that the existing arrangements, founded on experience, should, as a general rule, be preserved--in other words, the land actually enjoyed by the peasants should be retained by them; and in order to prevent extreme cases of injustice, a maximum and a minimum were fixed for each district. in like manner, as to the dues, it was decided that the existing arrangements should be taken as the basis of the calculation, but that the sum should be modified according to the amount of land ceded. at the same time facilities were to be given for the transforming of the labour dues into yearly money payments, and for enabling the peasants to redeem them, with the assistance of the government, in the form of credit. this idea of redemption created, at first, a feeling of alarm among the proprietors. it was bad enough to be obliged to cede a large part of the estates in usufruct, but it seemed to be much worse to have to sell it. redemption appeared to be a species of wholesale confiscation. but very soon it became evident that the redeeming of the land was profitable for both parties. cession in perpetual usufruct was felt to be in reality tantamount to alienation of the land, whilst the immediate redemption would enable the proprietors, who had generally little or no ready money to pay their debts, to clear their estates from mortgages, and to make the outlays necessary for the transition to free labour. the majority of the proprietors, therefore, said openly: "let the government give us a suitable compensation in money for the land that is taken from us, so that we may be at once freed from all further trouble and annoyance." when it became known that the commission was not merely arranging and codifying the materials, but elaborating a law of its own and regularly submitting its decisions for imperial confirmation, a feeling of dissatisfaction appeared all over the country. the nobles perceived that the question was being taken out of their hands, and was being solved by a small body composed of bureaucrats and nominees of the government. after having made a voluntary sacrifice of their rights, they were being unceremoniously pushed aside. they had still, however, the means of correcting this. the emperor had publicly promised that before the project should become law deputies from the provincial committees should be summoned to st. petersburg to make objections and propose amendments. the commission and the government would have willingly dispensed with all further advice from the nobles, but it was necessary to redeem the imperial promise. deputies were therefore summoned to the capital, but they were not allowed to form, as they hoped, a public assembly for the discussion of the question. all their efforts to hold meetings were frustrated, and they were required merely to answer in writing a list of printed questions regarding matters of detail. the fundamental principles, they were told, had already received the imperial sanction, and were consequently removed from discussion. those who desired to discuss details were invited individually to attend meetings of the commission, where they found one or two members ready to engage with them in a little dialectical fencing. this, of course, did not give much satisfaction. indeed, the ironical tone in which the fencing was too often conducted served to increase the existing irritation. it was only too evident that the commission had triumphed, and some of the members could justly boast that they had drowned the deputies in ink and buried them under reams of paper. believing, or at least professing to believe, that the emperor was being deceived in this matter by the administration, several groups of deputies presented petitions to his majesty containing a respectful protest against the manner in which they had been treated. but by this act they simply laid themselves open to "the most unkindest cut of all." those who had signed the petitions received a formal reprimand through the police. this treatment of the deputies, and, above all, this gratuitous insult, produced among the nobles a storm of indignation. they felt that they had been entrapped. the government had artfully induced them to form projects for the emancipation of their serfs, and now, after having been used as a cat's-paw in the work of their own spoliation, they were being unceremoniously pushed aside as no longer necessary. those who had indulged in the hope of gaining political rights felt the blow most keenly. a first gentle and respectful attempt at remonstrance had been answered by a dictatorial reprimand through the police! instead of being called to take an active part in home and foreign politics, they were being treated as naughty schoolboys. in view of this insult all differences of opinion were for the moment forgotten, and all parties resolved to join in a vigorous protest against the insolence and arbitrary conduct of the bureaucracy. a convenient opportunity of making this protest in a legal way was offered by the triennial provincial assemblies of the noblesse about to be held in several provinces. so at least it was thought, but here again the noblesse was checkmated by the administration. before the opening of the assemblies a circular was issued excluding the emancipation question from their deliberations. some assemblies evaded this order, and succeeded in making a little demonstration by submitting to his majesty that the time had arrived for other reforms, such as the separation of the administrative and judicial powers, and the creation of local self-government, public judicial procedure, and trial by jury. all these reforms were voluntarily effected by the emperor a few years later, but the manner in which they were suggested seemed to savour of insubordination, and was a flagrant infraction of the principle that all initiative in public affairs should proceed from the central government. new measures of repression were accordingly used. some marshals of noblesse were reprimanded and others deposed. of the conspicuous leaders, two were exiled to distant provinces and others placed under the supervision of the police. worst of all, the whole agitation strengthened the commission by convincing the emperor that the majority of the nobles were hostile to his benevolent plans.* * this was a misinterpretation of the facts. very many of those who joined in the protest sincerely sympathised with the idea of emancipation, and were ready to be even more "liberal" than the government. when the commission had finished its labours, its proposals passed to the two higher instances--the committee for peasant affairs and the council of state--and in both of these the emperor declared plainly that he could allow no fundamental changes. from all the members he demanded a complete forgetfulness of former differences and a conscientious execution of his orders; "for you must remember," he significantly added, "that in russia laws are made by the autocratic power." from an historical review of the question he drew the conclusion that "the autocratic power created serfage, and the autocratic power ought to abolish it." on march d (february th, old style), , the law was signed, and by that act more than twenty millions of serfs were liberated.* a manifesto containing the fundamental principles of the law was at once sent all over the country, and an order was given that it should be read in all the churches. * it is sometimes said that forty millions of serfs have been emancipated. the statement is true, if we regard the state peasants as serfs. they held, as i have already explained, an intermediate position between serfage and freedom. the peculiar administration under which they lived was partly abolished by imperial orders of september th, , and october d, . in they were placed, as regards administration, on a level with the emancipated serfs of the proprietors. as a general rule, they received rather more land and had to pay somewhat lighter dues than the emancipated serfs in the narrower sense of the term. the three fundamental principles laid down by the law were:-- . that the serfs should at once receive the civil rights of the free rural classes, and that the authority of the proprietor should be replaced by communal self-government. . that the rural communes should as far as possible retain the land they actually held, and should in return pay to the proprietor certain yearly dues in money or labour. . that the government should by means of credit assist the communes to redeem these dues, or, in other words, to purchase the lands ceded to them in usufruct. with regard to the domestic serfs, it was enacted that they should continue to serve their masters during two years, and that thereafter they should be completely free, but they should have no claim to a share of the land. it might be reasonably supposed that the serfs received with boundless gratitude and delight the manifesto proclaiming these principles. here at last was the realisation of their long-cherished hopes. liberty was accorded to them; and not only liberty, but a goodly portion of the soil--about half of all the arable land possessed by the proprietors. in reality the manifesto created among the peasantry a feeling of disappointment rather than delight. to understand this strange fact we must endeavour to place ourselves at the peasant's point of view. in the first place it must be remarked that all vague, rhetorical phrases about free labour, human dignity, national progress, and the like, which may readily produce among educated men a certain amount of temporary enthusiasm, fall on the ears of the russian peasant like drops of rain on a granite rock. the fashionable rhetoric of philosophical liberalism is as incomprehensible to him as the flowery circumlocutionary style of an oriental scribe would be to a keen city merchant. the idea of liberty in the abstract and the mention of rights which lie beyond the sphere of his ordinary everyday life awaken no enthusiasm in his breast. and for mere names he has a profound indifference. what matters it to him that he is officially called, not a "serf," but a "free village-inhabitant," if the change in official terminology is not accompanied by some immediate material advantage? what he wants is a house to live in, food to eat, and raiment wherewithal to be clothed, and to gain these first necessaries of life with as little labour as possible. he looked at the question exclusively from two points of view--that of historical right and that of material advantage; and from both of these the emancipation law seemed to him very unsatisfactory. on the subject of historical right the peasantry had their own traditional conceptions, which were completely at variance with the written law. according to the positive legislation the communal land formed part of the estate, and consequently belonged to the proprietor; but according to the conceptions of the peasantry it belonged to the commune, and the right of the proprietor consisted merely in that personal authority over the serfs which had been conferred on him by the tsar. the peasants could not, of course, put these conceptions into a strict legal form, but they often expressed them in their own homely laconic way by saying to their master, "mui vashi no zemlya nasha"--that is to say. "we are yours, but the land is ours." and it must be admitted that this view, though legally untenable, had a certain historical justification.* * see preceding chapter. in olden times the noblesse had held their land by feudal tenure, and were liable to be ejected as soon as they did not fulfil their obligations to the state. these obligations had been long since abolished, and the feudal tenure transformed into an unconditional right of property, but the peasants clung to the old ideas in a way that strikingly illustrates the vitality of deep-rooted popular conceptions. in their minds the proprietors were merely temporary occupants, who were allowed by the tsar to exact labour and dues from the serfs. what, then, was emancipation? certainly the abolition of all obligatory labour and money dues, and perhaps the complete ejectment of the proprietors. on this latter point there was a difference of opinion. all assumed, as a matter of course, that the communal land would remain the property of the commune, but it was not so clear what would be done with the rest of the estate. some thought that it would be retained by the proprietor, but very many believed that all the land would be given to the communes. in this way the emancipation would be in accordance with historical right and with the material advantage of the peasantry, for whose exclusive benefit, it was assumed, the reform had been undertaken. instead of this the peasants found that they were still to pay dues, even for the communal land which they regarded as unquestionably their own. so at least said the expounders of the law. but the thing was incredible. either the proprietors must be concealing or misinterpreting the law, or this was merely a preparatory measure, which would be followed by the real emancipation. thus were awakened among the peasantry a spirit of mistrust and suspicion and a widespread belief that there would be a second imperial manifesto, by which all the land would be divided and all the dues abolished. on the nobles the manifesto made a very different impression. the fact that they were to be entrusted with the putting of the law into execution, and the flattering allusions made to the spirit of generous self-sacrifice which they had exhibited, kindled amongst them enthusiasm enough to make them forget for a time their just grievances and their hostility towards the bureaucracy. they found that the conditions on which the emancipation was effected were by no means so ruinous as they had anticipated; and the emperor's appeal to their generosity and patriotism made many of them throw themselves with ardour into the important task confided to them. unfortunately they could not at once begin the work. the law had been so hurried through the last stages that the preparations for putting it into execution were by no means complete when the manifesto was published. the task of regulating the future relations between the proprietors and the peasantry was entrusted to local proprietors in each district, who were to be called arbiters of the peace (mirovuiye posredniki); but three months elapsed before these arbiters could be appointed. during that time there was no one to explain the law to the peasants and settle the disputes between them and the proprietors; and the consequence of this was that many cases of insubordination and disorder occurred. the muzhik naturally imagined that, as soon as the tsar said he was free, he was no longer obliged to work for his old master--that all obligatory labour ceased as soon as the manifesto was read. in vain the proprietor endeavoured to convince him that, in regard to labour, the old relations must continue, as the law enjoined, until a new arrangement had been made. to all explanations and exhortations he turned a deaf ear, and to the efforts of the rural police he too often opposed a dogged, passive resistance. in many cases the simple appearance of the higher authorities sufficed to restore order, for the presence of one of the tsar's servants convinced many that the order to work for the present as formerly was not a mere invention of the proprietors. but not infrequently the birch had to be applied. indeed, i am inclined to believe, from the numerous descriptions of this time which i received from eye-witnesses, that rarely, if ever, had the serfs seen and experienced so much flogging as during these first three months after their liberation. sometimes even the troops had to be called out, and on three occasions they fired on the peasants with ball cartridge. in the most serious case, where a young peasant had set up for a prophet and declared that the emancipation law was a forgery, fifty-one peasants were killed and seventy-seven were more or less seriously wounded. in spite of these lamentable incidents, there was nothing which even the most violent alarmist could dignify with the name of an insurrection. nowhere was there anything that could be called organised resistance. even in the case above alluded to, the three thousand peasants on whom the troops fired were entirely unarmed, made no attempt to resist, and dispersed in the utmost haste as soon as they discovered that they were being shot down. had the military authorities shown a little more judgment, tact, and patience, the history of the emancipation would not have been stained even with those three solitary cases of unnecessary bloodshed. this interregnum between the eras of serfage and liberty was brought to an end by the appointment of the arbiters of the peace. their first duty was to explain the law, and to organise the new peasant self-government. the lowest instance, or primary organ of this self-government, the rural commune, already existed, and at once recovered much of its ancient vitality as soon as the authority and interference of the proprietors were removed. the second instance, the volost--a territorial administrative unit comprising several contiguous communes--had to be created, for nothing of the kind had previously existed on the estates of the nobles. it had existed, however, for nearly a quarter of a century among the peasants of the domains, and it was therefore necessary merely to copy an existing model. as soon as all the volosts in his district had been thus organised the arbiter had to undertake the much more arduous task of regulating the agrarian relations between the proprietors and the communes--with the individual peasants, be it remembered, the proprietors had no direct relations whatever. it had been enacted by the law that the future agrarian relations between the two parties should be left, as far as possible, to voluntary contract; and accordingly each proprietor was invited to come to an agreement with the commune or communes on his estate. on the ground of this agreement a statute-charter (ustavnaya gramota) was prepared, specifying the number of male serfs, the quantity of land actually enjoyed by them, any proposed changes in this amount, the dues proposed to be levied, and other details. if the arbiter found that the conditions were in accordance with the law and clearly understood by the peasants, he confirmed the charter, and the arrangement was complete. when the two parties could not come to an agreement within a year, he prepared a charter according to his own judgment, and presented it for confirmation to the higher authorities. the dissolution of partnership, if it be allowable to use such a term, between the proprietor and his serfs was sometimes very easy and sometimes very difficult. on many estates the charter did little more than legalise the existing arrangements, but in many instances it was necessary to add to, or subtract from, the amount of communal land, and sometimes it was even necessary to remove the village to another part of the estate. in all cases there were, of course, conflicting interests and complicated questions, so that the arbiter had always abundance of difficult work. besides this, he had to act as mediator in those differences which naturally arose during the transition period, when the authority of the proprietor had been abolished but the separation of the two classes had not yet been effected. the unlimited patriarchal authority which had been formerly wielded by the proprietor or his steward now passed with certain restriction into the hands of the arbiter, and these peacemakers had to spend a great part of their time in driving about from one estate to another to put an end to alleged cases of insubordination--some of which, it must be admitted, existed only in the imagination of the proprietors. at first the work of amicable settlement proceeded slowly. the proprietors generally showed a conciliatory spirit, and some of them generously proposed conditions much more favourable to the peasants than the law demanded; but the peasants were filled with vague suspicions, and feared to commit themselves by "putting pen to paper." even the highly respected proprietors, who imagined that they possessed the unbounded confidence of the peasantry, were suspected like the others, and their generous offers were regarded as well-baited traps. often i have heard old men, sometimes with tears in their eyes, describe the distrust and ingratitude of the muzhik at this time. many peasants still believed that the proprietors were hiding the real emancipation law, and imaginative or ill-intentioned persons fostered this belief by professing to know what the real law contained. the most absurd rumours were afloat, and whole villages sometimes acted upon them. in the province of moscow, for instance, one commune sent a deputation to the proprietor to inform him that, as he had always been a good master, the mir would allow him to retain his house and garden during his lifetime. in another locality it was rumoured that the tsar sat daily on a golden throne in the crimea, receiving all peasants who came to him, and giving them as much land as they desired; and in order to take advantage of the imperial liberality a large body of peasants set out for the place indicated, and had to be stopped by the military. as an illustration of the illusions in which the peasantry indulged at this time, i may mention here one of the many characteristic incidents related to me by gentlemen who had served as arbiters of the peace. in the province of riazan there was one commune which had acquired a certain local notoriety for the obstinacy with which it refused all arrangements with the proprietor. my informant, who was arbiter for the locality, was at last obliged to make a statute-charter for it without its consent. he wished, however, that the peasants should voluntarily accept the arrangement he proposed, and accordingly called them together to talk with them on the subject. after explaining fully the part of the law which related to their case, he asked them what objection they had to make a fair contract with their old master. for some time he received no answer, but gradually by questioning individuals he discovered the cause of their obstinacy: they were firmly convinced that not only the communal land, but also the rest of the estate, belonged to them. to eradicate this false idea he set himself to reason with them, and the following characteristic dialogue ensued:--arbiter: "if the tsar gave all the land to the peasantry, what compensation could he give to the proprietors to whom the land belongs?" peasant: "the tsar will give them salaries according to their service." arbiter: "in order to pay these salaries he would require a great deal more money. where could he get that money? he would have to increase the taxes, and in that way you would have to pay all the same." peasant: "the tsar can make as much money as he likes." arbiter: "if the tsar can make as much money as he likes, why does he make you pay the poll-tax every year?" peasant: "it is not the tsar that receives the taxes we pay." arbiter: "who, then, receives them?" peasant (after a little hesitation, and with a knowing smite): "the officials, of course!" gradually, through the efforts of the arbiters, the peasants came to know better their real position, and the work began to advance more rapidly. but soon it was checked by another influence. by the end of the first year the "liberal," patriotic enthusiasm of the nobles had cooled. the sentimental, idyllic tendencies had melted away at the first touch of reality, and those who had imagined that liberty would have an immediately salutary effect on the moral character of the serfs confessed themselves disappointed. many complained that the peasants showed themselves greedy and obstinate, stole wood from the forest, allowed their cattle to wander on the proprietor's fields, failed to fulfil their legal obligations, and broke their voluntary engagements. at the same time the fears of an agrarian rising subsided, so that even the timid were tranquillised. from these causes the conciliatory spirit of the proprietors decreased. the work of conciliating and regulating became consequently more difficult, but the great majority of the arbiters showed themselves equal to the task, and displayed an impartiality, tact and patience beyond all praise. to them russia is in great part indebted for the peaceful character of the emancipation. had they sacrificed the general good to the interests of their class, or had they habitually acted in that stern, administrative, military spirit which caused the instances of bloodshed above referred to, the prophecies of the alarmists would, in all probability, have been realised, and the historian of the emancipation would have had a terrible list of judicial massacres to record. fortunately they played the part of mediators, as their name signified, rather than that of administrators in the bureaucratic sense of the term, and they were animated with a just and humane rather than a merely legal spirit. instead of simply laying down the law, and ordering their decisions to be immediately executed, they were ever ready to spend hours in trying to conquer, by patient and laborious reasoning, the unjust claims of proprietors or the false conceptions and ignorant obstinacy of the peasants. it was a new spectacle for russia to see a public function fulfilled by conscientious men who had their heart in their work, who sought neither promotion nor decorations, and who paid less attention to the punctilious observance of prescribed formalities than to the real objects in view. there were, it is true, a few men to whom this description does not apply. some of these were unduly under the influence of the feelings and conceptions created by serfage. some, on the contrary, erred on the other side. desirous of securing the future welfare of the peasantry and of gaining for themselves a certain kind of popularity, and at the same time animated with a violent spirit of pseudo-liberalism, these latter occasionally forgot that their duty was to be, not generous, but just, and that they had no right to practise generosity at other people's expense. all this i am quite aware of--i could even name one or two arbiters who were guilty of positive dishonesty--but i hold that these were rare exceptions. the great majority did their duty faithfully and well. the work of concluding contracts for the redemption of the dues, or, in other words, for the purchase of the land ceded in perpetual usufruct, proceeded slowly. the arrangement was as follows:--the dues were capitalised at six per cent., and the government paid at once to the proprietors four-fifths of the whole sum. the peasants were to pay to the proprietor the remaining fifth, either at once or in installments, and to the government six per cent. for forty-nine years on the sum advanced. the proprietors willingly adopted this arrangement, for it provided them with a sum of ready money, and freed them from the difficult task of collecting the dues. but the peasants did not show much desire to undertake the operation. some of them still expected a second emancipation, and those who did not take this possibility into their calculations were little disposed to make present sacrifices for distant prospective advantages which would not be realised for half a century. in most cases the proprietor was obliged to remit, in whole or in part, the fifth to be paid by the peasants. many communes refused to undertake the operation on any conditions and in consequence of this not a few proprietors demanded the so-called obligatory redemption, according to which they accepted the four-fifths from the government as full payment, and the operation was thus effected without the peasants being consulted. the total number of male serfs emancipated was about nine millions and three-quarters,* and of these, only about seven millions and a quarter had, at the beginning of , made redemption contracts. of the contracts signed at that time, about sixty-three per cent, were "obligatory." in the redemption was made obligatory for both parties, so that all communes are now proprietors of the land previously held in perpetual usufruct; and in the debt will have been extinguished by the sinking fund, and all redemption payments will have ceased. * this does not include the domestic serfs who did not receive land. the serfs were thus not only liberated, but also made possessors of land and put on the road to becoming communal proprietors, and the old communal institutions were preserved and developed. in answer to the question, who effected this gigantic reform? we may say that the chief merit undoubtedly belongs to alexander ii. had he not possessed a very great amount of courage he would neither have raised the question nor allowed it to be raised by others, and had he not shown a great deal more decision and energy than was expected, the solution would have been indefinitely postponed. among the members of his own family he found an able and energetic assistant in his brother, the grand duke constantine, and a warm sympathiser with the cause in the grand duchess helena, a german princess thoroughly devoted to the welfare of her adopted country. but we must not overlook the important part played by the nobles. their conduct was very characteristic. as soon as the question was raised a large number of them adopted the liberal ideas with enthusiasm; and as soon as it became evident that emancipation was inevitable, all made a holocaust of their ancient rights and demanded to be liberated at once from all relations with their serfs. moreover, when the law was passed it was the proprietors who faithfully put it into execution. lastly, we should remember that praise is due to the peasantry for their patience under disappointment and for their orderly conduct as soon as they understood the law and recognised it to be the will of the tsar. thus it may justly be said that the emancipation was not the work of one man, or one party, or one class, but of the nation as a whole.* * the names most commonly associated with the emancipation are general rostoftsef, lanskoi (minister of the interior), nicholas milutin, prince tchererkassky, g. samarin, koshelef. many others, such as i. a. solovief, zhukofski, domontovitch, giers--brother of m. giers, afterwards minister for foreign affairs--are less known, but did valuable work. to all of these, with the exception of the first two, who died before my arrival in russia, i have to confess my obligations. the late nicholas milutin rendered me special service by putting at my disposal not only all the official papers in his possession, but also many documents of a more private kind. by his early and lamented death russia lost one of the greatest statesmen she has yet produced. chapter xxx the landed proprietors since the emancipation two opposite opinions--difficulties of investigation--the problem simplified--direct and indirect compensation--the direct compensation inadequate--what the proprietors have done with the remainder of their estates--immediate moral effect of the abolition of serfage--the economic problem--the ideal solution and the difficulty of realising it--more primitive arrangements--the northern agricultural zone--the black-earth zone--the labour difficulty--the impoverishment of the noblesse not a new phenomenon--mortgaging of estates--gradual expropriation of the noblesse-rapid increase in the production and export of grain--how far this has benefited the landed proprietors. when the emancipation question was raised there was a considerable diversity of opinion as to the effect which the abolition of serfage would have on the material interests of the two classes directly concerned. the press and "the young generation" took an optimistic view, and endeavoured to prove that the proposed change would be beneficial alike to proprietors and to peasants. science, it was said, has long since decided that free labour is immensely more productive than slavery or serfage, and the principle has been already proved to demonstration in the countries of western europe. in all those countries modern agricultural progress began with the emancipation of the serfs, and increased productivity was everywhere the immediate result of improvements in the method of culture. thus the poor light soils of germany, france, and holland have been made to produce more than the vaunted "black earth" of russia. and from these ameliorations the land-owning class has everywhere derived the chief advantages. are not the landed proprietors of england--the country in which serfage was first abolished--the richest in the world? and is not the proprietor of a few hundred morgen in germany often richer than the russian noble who has thousands of dessyatins? by these and similar plausible arguments the press endeavoured to prove to the proprietors that they ought, even in their own interest, to undertake the emancipation of the serfs. many proprietors, however, showed little faith in the abstract principles of political economy and the vague teachings of history as interpreted by the contemporary periodical literature. they could not always refute the ingenious arguments adduced by the men of more sanguine temperament, but they felt convinced that their prospects were not nearly so bright as these men represented them to be. they believed that russia was a peculiar country, and the russians a peculiar people. the lower classes in england, france, holland, and germany were well known to be laborious and enterprising, while the russian peasant was notoriously lazy, and would certainly, if left to himself, not do more work than was absolutely necessary to keep him from starving. free labour might be more profitable than serfage in countries where the upper classes possessed traditional practical knowledge and abundance of capital, but in russia the proprietors had neither the practical knowledge nor the ready money necessary to make the proposed ameliorations in the system of agriculture. to all this it was added that a system of emancipation by which the peasants should receive land and be made completely independent of the landed proprietors had nowhere been tried on such a large scale. there were thus two diametrically opposite opinions regarding the economic results of the abolition of serfage, and we have now to examine which of these two opinions has been confirmed by experience. let us look at the question first from the point of view of the land-owners. the reader who has never attempted to make investigations of this kind may naturally imagine that the question can be easily decided by simply consulting a large number of individual proprietors, and drawing a general conclusion from their evidence. in reality i found the task much more difficult. after roaming about the country for five years ( - ), collecting information from the best available sources, i hesitated to draw any sweeping conclusions, and my state of mind at that time was naturally reflected in the early editions of this work. as a rule the proprietors could not state clearly how much they had lost or gained, and when definite information was obtained from them it was not always trustworthy. in the time of serfage very few of them had been in the habit of keeping accurate accounts, or accounts of any kind, and when they lived on their estates there were a very large number of items which could not possibly be reduced to figures. of course, each proprietor had a general idea as to whether his position was better or worse than it had been in the old times, but the vague statements made by individuals regarding their former and their actual revenues had little or no scientific value. so many considerations which had nothing to do with purely agrarian relations entered into the calculations that the conclusions did not help me much to estimate the economic results of the emancipation as a whole. nor, it must be confessed, was the testimony by any means always unbiassed. not a few spoke of the great reform in an epic or dithyrambic tone, and among these i easily distinguished two categories: the one desired to prove that the measure was a complete success in every way, and that all classes were benefited by it, not only morally, but also materially; whilst the others strove to represent the proprietors in general, and themselves in particular, as the self-sacrificing victims of a great and necessary patriotic reform--as martyrs in the cause of liberty and progress. i do not for a moment suppose that these two groups of witnesses had a clearly conceived intention of deceiving or misleading, but as a cautious investigator i had to make allowance for their idealising and sentimental tendencies. since that time the situation has become much clearer, and during recent visits to russia i have been able to arrive at much more definite conclusions. these i now proceed to communicate to the reader. the emancipation caused the proprietors of all classes to pass through a severe economic crisis. periods of transition always involve much suffering, and the amount of suffering is generally in the inverse ratio of the precautions taken beforehand. in russia the precautions had been neglected. not one proprietor in a hundred had made any serious preparations for the inevitable change. on the eve of the emancipation there were about ten millions of male serfs on private properties, and of these nearly seven millions remained under the old system of paying their dues in labour. of course, everybody knew that emancipation must come sooner or later, but fore-thought, prudence, and readiness to take time by the forelock are not among the prominent traits of the russian character. hence most of the land-owners were taken unawares. but while all suffered, there were differences of degree. some were completely shipwrecked. so long as serfage existed all the relations of life were ill-defined and extremely elastic, so that a man who was hopelessly insolvent might contrive, with very little effort, to keep his bead above water for half a lifetime. for such men the emancipation, like a crisis in the commercial world, brought a day of reckoning. it did not really ruin them, but it showed them and the world at large that they were ruined, and they could no longer continue their old mode of life. for others the crisis was merely temporary. these emerged with a larger income than they ever had before, but i am not prepared to say that their material condition has improved, because the social habits have changed, the cost of living has become much greater, and the work of administering estates is incomparably more complicated and laborious than in the old patriarchal times. we may greatly simplify the problem by reducing it to two definite questions: . how far were the proprietors directly indemnified for the loss of serf labour and for the transfer in perpetual usufruct of a large part of their estates to the peasantry? . what have the proprietors done with the remainder of their estates, and how far have they been indirectly indemnified by the economic changes which have taken place since the emancipation? with the first of these questions i shall deal very briefly, because it is a controversial subject involving very complicated calculations which only a specialist can understand. the conclusion at which i have arrived, after much patient research, is that in most provinces the compensation was inadequate, and this conclusion is confirmed by excellent native authorities. m. bekhteyev, for example, one of the most laborious and conscientious investigators in this field of research, and the author of an admirable work on the economic results of the emancipation,* told me recently, in course of conversation, that in his opinion the peasant dues fixed by the emancipation law represented, throughout the black-earth zone, only about a half of the value of the labour previously supplied by the serfs. to this i must add that the compensation was in reality not nearly so great as it seemed to be according to the terms of the law. as the proprietors found it extremely difficult to collect the dues from the emancipated serfs, and as they required a certain amount of capital to reorganise the estate on the new basis of free labour, most of them were practically compelled to demand the obligatory redemption of the land (obiazatelny vuikup), and in adopting this expedient they had to make considerable sacrifices. not only had they to accept as full payment four-fifths of the normal sum, but of this amount the greater portion was paid in treasury bonds, which fell at once to per cent. of their nominal value. * "khozaistvenniye itogi istekshago sorokoletiya." st. petersburg, . let us now pass to the second part of the problem: what have the proprietors done with the part of their estates which remained to them after ceding the required amount of land to the communes? have they been indirectly indemnified for the loss of serf labour by subsequent economic changes? how far have they succeeded in making the transition from serfage to free labour, and what revenues do they now derive from their estates? the answer to these questions will necessarily contain some account of the present economic position of the proprietors. on all proprietors the emancipation had at least one good effect: it dragged them forcibly from the old path of indolence and routine and compelled them to think and calculate regarding their affairs. the hereditary listlessness and apathy, the traditional habit of looking on the estate with its serfs as a kind of self-acting machine which must always spontaneously supply the owner with the means of living, the inveterate practice of spending all ready money and of taking little heed for the morrow--all this, with much that resulted from it, was rudely swept away and became a thing of the past. the broad, easy road on which the proprietors had hitherto let themselves be borne along by the force of circumstances suddenly split up into a number of narrow, arduous, thorny paths. each one had to use his judgement to determine which of the paths he should adopt, and, having made his choice, he had to struggle along as he best could. i remember once asking a proprietor what effect the emancipation had had on the class to which he belonged, and he gave me an answer which is worth recording. "formerly," he said, "we kept no accounts and drank champagne; now we keep accounts and content ourselves with kvass." like all epigrammatic sayings, this laconic reply is far from giving a complete description of reality, but it indicates in a graphic way a change that has unquestionably taken place. as soon as serfage was abolished it was no longer possible to live like "the flowers of the field." many a proprietor who had formerly vegetated in apathetic ease had to ask himself the question: how am i to gain a living? all had to consider what was the most profitable way of employing the land that remained to them. the ideal solution of the problem was that as soon as the peasant-land had been demarcated, the proprietor should take to farming the remainder of his estate by means of hired labour and agricultural machines in west european or american fashion. unfortunately, this solution could not be generally adopted, because the great majority of the landlords, even when they had the requisite practical knowledge of agriculture, had not the requisite capital, and could not easily obtain it. where were they to find money for buying cattle, horses, and agricultural implements, for building stables and cattle-sheds, and for defraying all the other initial expenses? and supposing they succeeded in starting the new system, where was the working capital to come from? the old government institution in which estates could be mortgaged according to the number of serfs was permanently closed, and the new land-credit associations had not yet come into existence. to borrow from private capitalists was not to be thought of, for money was so scarce than ten per cent. was considered a "friendly" rate of interest. recourse might be had, it is true, to the redemption operation, but in that case the government would deduct the unpaid portion of any outstanding mortgage, and would pay the balance in depreciated treasury bonds. in these circumstances the proprietors could not, as a rule, adopt what i have called the ideal solution, and had to content themselves with some simpler and more primitive arrangement. they could employ the peasants of the neighbouring villages to prepare the land and reap the crops either for a fixed sum per acre or on the metayage system, or they could let their land to the peasants for one, three or six years at a moderate rent. in the northern agricultural zone, where the soil is poor and primitive farming with free labour can hardly be made to pay, the proprietors had to let their land at a small rent, and those of them who could not find places in the rural administration migrated to the towns and sought employment in the public service or in the numerous commercial and industrial enterprises which were springing up at that time. there they have since remained. their country-houses, if inhabited at all, are occupied only for a few months in summer, and too often present a melancholy spectacle of neglect and dilapidation. in the black-earth zone, on the contrary, where the soil still possesses enough of its natural fertility to make farming on a large scale profitable, the estates are in a very different condition. the owners cultivate at least a part of their property, and can easily let to the peasants at a fair rent the land which they do not wish to farm themselves. some have adopted the metayage system; others get the field-work done by the peasants at so much per acre. the more energetic, who have capital enough at their disposal, organise farms with hired labourers on the european model. if they are not so well off as formerly, it is because they have adopted a less patriarchal and more expensive style of living. their land has doubled and trebled in value during the last thirty years, and their revenues have increased, if not in proportion, at least considerably. in i visited a number of estates in this region and found them in a very prosperous condition, with agricultural machines of the english or american types, an increasing variety in the rotation of crops, greatly improved breeds of cattle and horses, and all the other symptoms of a gradual transition to a more intensive and more rational system of agriculture. it must be admitted, however, that even in the black-earth zone the proprietors have formidable difficulties to contend with, the chief of which are the scarcity of good farm-labourers, the frequent droughts, the low price of cereals, and the delay in getting the grain conveyed to the seaports. on each of these difficulties and the remedies that might be applied i could write a separate chapter, but i fear to overtax the reader's patience, and shall therefore confine myself to a few remarks about the labour question. on this subject the complaints are loud and frequent all over the country. the peasants, it is said, have become lazy, careless, addicted to drunkenness, and shamelessly dishonest with regard to their obligations, so that it is difficult to farm even in the old primitive fashion and impossible to introduce radical improvements in the methods of culture. in these sweeping accusations there is a certain amount of truth. that the muzhik, when working for others, exerts himself as little as possible; that he pays little attention to the quality of the work done; that he shows a reckless carelessness with regard to his employer's property; that he is capable of taking money in advance and failing to fulfil his contract; that he occasionally gets drunk; and that he is apt to commit certain acts of petty larceny when he gets the chance--all this is undoubtedly true, whatever biassed theorists and sentimental peasant-worshippers may say to the contrary.* it would be a mistake, however, to suppose that the fault is entirely on the side of the peasants, and equally erroneous to believe that the evils might be remedied, as is often suggested, by greater severity on the part of the tribunals, or by an improved system of passports. farming with free labour, like every other department of human activity, requires a fair amount of knowledge, judgment, prudence, and tact, which cannot be replaced by ingenious legislation or judicial severity. in engaging labourers or servants it is necessary to select them carefully and make such conditions that they feel it to be to their interest to fulfil their contract loyally. this is too often overlooked by the russian land-owners. from false views of economy they are inclined to choose the cheapest labourer without examining closely his other qualifications, or they take advantage of the peasant's pecuniary embarrassments and make with him a contract which it is hardly possible for him to fulfil. in spring, for instance, when his store of provisions is exhausted and he is being hard pressed by the tax-collector, they supply him with rye-meal or advance him a small sum of money on condition of his undertaking to do a relatively large amount of summer work. he knows that the contract is unfair to him, but what is he to do? he must get food for himself and his family and a little ready money for his taxes, for the communal authorities will probably sell his cow if he does not pay his arrears.** in desperation he accepts the conditions and puts off the evil day--consoling himself with the reflection that perhaps (avos') something may turn up in the meantime--but when the time comes for fulfilling his engagements the dilemma revives. according to the contract he ought to work nearly the whole summer for the proprietor; but he has his own land to attend to, and he has to make provision for the winter. in such circumstances the temptation to evade the terms of the contract is probably too strong to be resisted. * amongst themselves the peasants are not addicted to thieving, as is proved by the fact that they habitually leave their doors unlocked when the inmates of the house are working in the fields; but if the muzhik finds in the proprietor's farmyard a piece of iron or a bit of rope, or any of those little things that he constantly requires and has difficulty in obtaining, he is very apt to pick it up and carry it home. gathering firewood in the landlord's forest he does not consider as theft, because "god planted the trees and watered them," and in the time of serfage he was allowed to supply himself with firewood in this way. ** until last year ( ) they could use also corporal punishment as a means of pressure, and i am not sure that they do not occasionally use it still, though it is no longer permitted by law. in russia, as in other countries, the principle holds true that for good labour a fair price must be paid. several large proprietors of my acquaintance who habitually act on this principle assure me that they always obtain as much good labour as they require. i must add, however, that these fortunate proprietors have the advantage of possessing a comfortable amount of working capital, and are therefore not compelled, as so many of their less fortunate neighbours are, to manage their estates on the hand-to-mouth principle. it is only, i fear, a minority of the landed proprietors that have grappled successfully with these and other difficulties of their position. as a class they are impoverished and indebted, but this state of things is not due entirely to serf-emancipation. the indebtedness of the noblesse is a hereditary peculiarity of much older date. by some authorities it is attributed to the laws of peter the great, by which all nobles were obliged to spend the best part of their lives in the military or civil service, and to leave the management of their estates to incompetent stewards. however that may be, it is certain that from the middle of the eighteenth century downwards the fact has frequently occupied the attention of the government, and repeated attempts have been made to alleviate the evil. the empress elizabeth, catherine ii., paul, alexander i., nicholas i., alexander ii., and alexander iii. tried successively, as one of the older ukazes expressed it, "to free the noblesse from debt and from greedy money-lenders, and to prevent hereditary estates from passing into the hands of strangers." the means commonly adopted was the creation of mortgage banks founded and controlled by the government for the purpose of advancing money to landed proprietors at a comparatively low rate of interest. these institutions may have been useful to the few who desired to improve their estates, but they certainly did not cure, and rather tended to foster, the inveterate improvidence of the many. on the eve of the emancipation the proprietors were indebted to the government for the sum of millions of roubles, and per cent. of their serfs were mortgaged. a portion of this debt was gradually extinguished by the redemption operation, so that in over millions had been paid off, but in the meantime new debts were being contracted. in - nine private land-mortgage banks were created, and there was such a rush to obtain money from them that their paper was a glut in the market, and became seriously depreciated. when the prices of grain rose in - the mortgage debt was diminished, but when they began to fall in it again increased, and in it stood at millions. as the rate of interest was felt to be very burdensome there was a strong feeling among the landed proprietors at that time that the government ought to help them, and in the nobles of the province of orel ventured to address the emperor on the subject. in reply to the address, alexander iii., who had strong conservative leanings, was graciously pleased to declare in an ukaz that "it was really time to do something to help the noblesse," and accordingly a new land-mortgage bank for the noblesse was created. the favourable terms offered by it were taken advantage of to such an extent that in the first four years of its activity ( - ) it advanced to the proprietors over million roubles. then came two famine years, and in the mortgage debt of the noblesse in that and other credit establishments was estimated at millions. it has since probably increased rather than diminished, for in that year the prices of grain began to fall steadily on all the corn-exchanges of the world, and they have never since recovered. by means of mortgages some proprietors succeeded in weathering the storm, but many gave up the struggle altogether, and settled in the towns. in the space of thirty years , of them sold their estates, and thus, between and , the area of land possessed by the noblesse diminished per cent.--from , , to , , dessyatins. this expropriation of the noblesse, as it is called, was evidently not the result merely of the temporary economic disturbance caused by the abolition of serfage, for as time went on it became more rapid. during the first twenty years the average annual amount of noblesse land sold was , dessyatins, and it rose steadily until - , when it reached the amount of , . as i have already stated, the townward movement of the proprietors was strongest in the barren northern provinces. in the province of olonetz, for example, they have already parted with per cent. of their land. in the black-soil region, on the contrary, there is no province in which more than per cent. of the noblesse land has been alienated, and in one province (tula) the amount is only per cent. the habit of mortgaging and selling estates does not necessarily mean the impoverishment of the landlords as a class. if the capital raised in that way is devoted to agricultural improvements, the result may be an increase of wealth. unfortunately, in russia the realised capital was usually not so employed. a very large proportion of it was spent unproductively, partly in luxuries and living abroad, and partly in unprofitable commercial and industrial speculations. the industrial and railway fever which raged at the time induced many to risk and lose their capital, and it had indirectly an injurious effect on all by making money plentiful in the towns and creating a more expensive style of living, from which the landed gentry could not hold entirely aloof. so far i have dwelt on the dark shadows of the picture, but it is not all shadow. in the last forty years the production and export of grain, which constitute the chief source of revenue for the noblesse, have increased enormously, thanks mainly to the improved means of transport. in the first decade after the emancipation ( - ) the average annual export did not exceed million puds; in the second decade ( - ) it leapt up to millions; and so it went up steadily until in the last decade of the century it had reached millions--i.e., over six million tons. at the same time the home trade had increased likewise in consequence of the rapidly growing population of the towns. all this must have enriched the land-proprietors. not to such an extent, it is true, as the figures seem to indicate, because the old prices could not be maintained. rye, for example, which in stood at kopeks per pud, fell as low as , and during the rest of the century, except during a short time in - and the famine years of - , when there was very little surplus to sell, it never rose above . still, the increase in quantity more than counterbalanced the fall in price. for example: in the average price of grain per pud was , and in it had sunk to ; but the amount exported during that time rose from to million puds, and the sum received for it had risen from to millions of roubles. surely the whole of that enormous sum was not squandered on luxuries and unprofitable speculation! the pessimists, however--and in russia their name is legion--will not admit that any permanent advantage has been derived from this enormous increase in exports. on the contrary, they maintain that it is a national misfortune, because it is leading rapidly to a state of permanent impoverishment. it quickly exhausted, they say, the large reserves of grain in the village, so that as soon as there was a very bad harvest the government had to come to the rescue and feed the starving peasantry. worse than this, it compromised the future prosperity of the country. being in pecuniary difficulties, and consequently impatient to make money, the proprietors increased inordinately the area of grain-producing land at the expense of pasturage and forests, with the result that the live stock and the manuring of the land were diminished, the fertility of the soil impaired, and the necessary quantity of moisture in the atmosphere greatly lessened. there is some truth in this contention; but it would seem that the soil and climate have not been affected so much as the pessimists suppose, because in recent years there have been some very good harvests. on the whole, then, i think it may be justly said that the efforts of the landed proprietors to work their estates without serf labour have not as yet been brilliantly successful. those who have failed are in the habit of complaining that they have not received sufficient support from the government, which is accused of having systematically sacrificed the interests of agriculture, the mainstay of the national resources, to the creation of artificial and unnecessary manufacturing industries. how far such complaints and accusations are well founded i shall not attempt to decide. it is a complicated polemical question, into which the reader would probably decline to accompany me. let us examine rather what influence the above-mentioned changes have had on the peasantry. chapter xxxi the emancipated peasantry the effects of liberty--difficulty of obtaining accurate information--pessimist testimony of the proprietors--vague replies of the peasants--my conclusions in --necessity of revising them--my investigations renewed in --recent researches by native political economists--peasant impoverishment universally recognised--various explanations suggested--demoralisation of the common people--peasant self-government--communal system of land tenure--heavy taxation--disruption of peasant families--natural increase of population--remedies proposed--migration--reclamation of waste land--land-purchase by peasantry--manufacturing industry--improvement of agricultural methods--indications of progress. at the commencement of last chapter i pointed out in general terms the difficulty of describing clearly the immediate consequences of the emancipation. in beginning now to speak of the influence which the great reform has had on the peasantry, i feel that the difficulty has reached its climax. the foreigner who desires merely to gain a general idea of the subject cannot be expected to take an interest in details, and even if he took the trouble to examine them attentively, he would derive from the labour little real information. what he wishes is a clear, concise, and dogmatic statement of general results. has the material and moral condition of the peasantry improved since the emancipation? that is the simple question which he has to put, and he naturally expects a simple, categorical answer. in beginning my researches in this interesting field of inquiry, i had no adequate conception of the difficulties awaiting me. i imagined that i had merely to question intelligent, competent men who had had abundant opportunities of observation, and to criticise and boil down the information collected; but when i put this method of investigation to the test of experience it proved unsatisfactory. very soon i came to perceive that my authorities were very far from being impartial observers. most of them were evidently suffering from shattered illusions. they had expected that the emancipation would produce instantaneously a wonderful improvement in the life and character of the rural population, and that the peasant would become at once a sober, industrious, model agriculturist. these expectations were not realised. one year passed, five years passed, ten years passed, and the expected transformation did not take place. on the contrary, there appeared certain very ugly phenomena which were not at all in the programme. the peasants began to drink more and to work less,* and the public life which the communal institutions produced was by no means of a desirable kind. the "bawlers" (gorlopany) acquired a prejudicial influence in the village assemblies, and in very many volosts the peasant judges, elected by their fellow-villagers, acquired a bad habit of selling their decisions for vodka. the natural consequence of all this was that those who had indulged in exaggerated expectations sank into a state of inordinate despondency, and imagined things to be much worse than they really were. * i am not at all sure that the peasants really drank more, but such was, and still is, a very general conviction. for different reasons, those who had not indulged in exaggerated expectations, and had not sympathised with the emancipation in the form in which it was effected, were equally inclined to take a pessimistic view of the situation. in every ugly phenomenon they found a confirmation of their opinions. the result was precisely what they had foretold. the peasants had used their liberty and their privileges to their own detriment and to the detriment of others! the extreme "liberals" were also inclined, for reasons of their own, to join in the doleful chorus. they desired that the condition of the peasantry should be further improved by legislative enactments, and accordingly they painted the evils in as dark colours as possible. thus, from various reasons, the majority of the educated classes were unduly disposed to represent to themselves and to others the actual condition of the peasantry in a very unfavourable light, and i felt that from them there was no hope of obtaining the lumen siccum which i desired. i determined, therefore, to try the method of questioning the peasants themselves. surely they must know whether their condition was better or worse than it had been before their emancipation. again i was doomed to disappointment. a few months' experience sufficed to convince me that my new method was by no means so effectual as i had imagined. uneducated people rarely make generalisations which have no practical utility, and i feel sure that very few russian peasants ever put to themselves the question: am i better off now than i was in the time of serfage? when such a question is put to them they feel taken aback. and in truth it is no easy matter to sum up the two sides of the account and draw an accurate balance, save in those exceptional cases in which the proprietor flagrantly abused his authority. the present money-dues and taxes are often more burdensome than the labour-dues in the old times. if the serfs had a great many ill-defined obligations to fulfil--such as the carting of the master's grain to market, the preparing of his firewood, the supplying him with eggs, chickens, home-made linen, and the like--they had, on the other hand, a good many ill-defined privileges. they grazed their cattle during a part of the year on the manor-land; they received firewood and occasionally logs for repairing their huts; sometimes the proprietor lent them or gave them a cow or a horse when they had been visited by the cattle-plague or the horse-stealer; and in times of famine they could look to their master for support. all this has now come to an end. their burdens and their privileges have been swept away together, and been replaced by clearly defined, unbending, unelastic legal relations. they have now to pay the market-price for every stick of firewood which they burn, for every log which they require for repairing their houses, and for every rood of land on which to graze their cattle. nothing is now to be had gratis. the demand to pay is encountered at every step. if a cow dies or a horse is stolen, the owner can no longer go to the proprietor with the hope of receiving a present, or at least a loan without interest, but must, if he has no ready money, apply to the village usurer, who probably considers twenty or thirty per cent, as a by no means exorbitant rate of interest. besides this, from the economic point of view village life has been completely revolutionised. formerly the members of a peasant family obtained from their ordinary domestic resources nearly all they required. their food came from their fields, cabbage-garden, and farmyard. materials for clothing were supplied by their plots of flax and their sheep, and were worked up into linen and cloth by the female members of the household. fuel, as i have said, and torches wherewith to light the izba--for oil was too expensive and petroleum was unknown--were obtained gratis. their sheep, cattle, and horses were bred at home, and their agricultural implements, except in so far as a little iron was required, could be made by themselves without any pecuniary expenditure. money was required only for the purchase of a few cheap domestic utensils, such as pots, pans, knives, hatchets, wooden dishes, and spoons, and for the payment of taxes, which were small in amount and often paid by the proprietor. in these circumstances the quantity of money in circulation among the peasants was infinitesimally small, the few exchanges which took place in a village being generally effected by barter. the taxes, and the vodka required for village festivals, weddings, or funerals, were the only large items of expenditure for the year, and they were generally covered by the sums brought home by the members of the family who went to work in the towns. very different is the present condition of affairs. the spinning, weaving, and other home industries have been killed by the big factories, and the flax and wool have to be sold to raise a little ready money for the numerous new items of expenditure. everything has to be bought--clothes, firewood, petroleum, improved agricultural implements, and many other articles which are now regarded as necessaries of life, whilst comparatively little is earned by working in the towns, because the big families have been broken up, and a household now consists usually of husband and wife, who must both remain at home, and children who are not yet bread-winners. recalling to mind all these things and the other drawbacks and advantages of his actual position, the old muzhik has naturally much difficulty in striking a balance, and he may well be quite sincere when, on being asked whether things now are on the whole better or worse than in the time of serfage, he scratches the back of his head and replies hesitatingly, with a mystified expression on his wrinkled face: "how shall i say to you? they are both better and worse!" ("kak vam skazat'? i lûtche i khûdzhe!") if, however, you press him further and ask whether he would himself like to return to the old state of things, he is pretty sure to answer, with a slow shake of the head and a twinkle in his eye, as if some forgotten item in the account had suddenly recurred to him: "oh, no!" what materially increases the difficulty of this general computation is that great changes have taken place in the well-being of the particular households. some have greatly prospered, while others have become impoverished. that is one of the most characteristic consequences of the emancipation. in the old times the general economic stagnation and the uncontrolled authority of the proprietor tended to keep all the households of a village on the same level. there was little opportunity for an intelligent, enterprising serf to become rich, and if he contrived to increase his revenue he had probably to give a considerable share of it to the proprietor, unless he had the good fortune to belong to a grand seigneur like count sheremetief, who was proud of having rich men among his serfs. on the other hand, the proprietor, for evident reasons of self-interest, as well as from benevolent motives, prevented the less intelligent and less enterprising members of the commune from becoming bankrupt. the communal equality thus artificially maintained has now disappeared, the restrictions on individual freedom of action have been removed, the struggle for life has become intensified, and, as always happens in such circumstances, the strong men go up in the world while the weak ones go to the wall. all over the country we find on the one hand the beginnings of a village aristocracy--or perhaps we should call it a plutocracy, for it is based on money--and on the other hand an ever-increasing pauperism. some peasants possess capital, with which they buy land outside the commune or embark in trade, while others have to sell their live stock, and have sometimes to cede to neighbours their share of the communal property. this change in rural life is so often referred to that, in order to express it a new, barbarous word, differentsiatsia (differentiation) has been invented. hoping to obtain fuller information with the aid of official protection, i attached myself to one of the travelling sections of an agricultural commission appointed by the government, and during a whole summer i helped to collect materials in the provinces bordering on the volga. the inquiry resulted in a gigantic report of nearly , folio pages, but the general conclusions were extremely vague. the peasantry, it was said, were passing, like the landed proprietors, through a period of transition, in which the main features of their future normal life had not yet become clearly defined. in some localities their condition had decidedly improved, whereas in others it had improved little or not at all. then followed a long list of recommendations in favour of government assistance, better agronomic education, competitive exhibitions, more varied rotation of crops, and greater zeal on the part of the clergy in disseminating among the people moral principles in general and love of work in particular. not greatly enlightened by this official activity, i returned to my private studies, and at the end of six years i published my impressions and conclusions in the first edition of this work. while recognising that there was much uncertainty as to the future, i was inclined, on the whole, to take a hopeful view of the situation. i was unable, however, to maintain permanently that comfortable frame of mind. after my departure from russia in , the accounts which reached me from various parts of the country became blacker and blacker, and were partly confirmed by short tours which i made in - . at last, in the summer of , i determined to return to some of my old haunts and look at things with my own eyes. at that moment some hospitable friends invited me to pay them a visit at their country-house in the province of smolensk, and i gladly accepted the invitation, because smolensk, when i knew it formerly, was one of the poorest provinces, and i thought it well to begin my new studies by examining the impoverishment, of which i had heard so much, at its maximum. from the railway station at viazma, where i arrived one morning at sunrise, i had some twenty miles to drive, and as soon as i got clear of the little town i began my observations. what i saw around me seemed to contradict the sombre accounts i had received. the villages through which i passed had not at all the look of dilapidation and misery which i expected. on the contrary, the houses were larger and better constructed than they used to be, and each of them had a chimney! that latter fact was important because formerly a large proportion of the peasants of this region had no such luxury, and allowed the smoke to find its exit by the open door. in vain i looked for a hut of the old type, and my yamstchik assured me i should have to go a long way to find one. then i noticed a good many iron ploughs of the european model, and my yamstchik informed me that their predecessor, the sokha with which i had been so familiar, had entirely disappeared from the district. next i noticed that in the neighbourhood of the villages flax was grown in large quantities. that was certainly not an indication of poverty, because flax is a valuable product which requires to be well manured, and plentiful manure implies a considerable quantity of live stock. lastly, before arriving at my destination, i noticed clover being grown in the fields. this made me open my eyes with astonishment, because the introduction of artificial grasses into the traditional rotation of crops indicates the transition to a higher and more intensive system of agriculture. as i had never seen clover in russia except on the estates of very advanced proprietors, i said to my yamstchik: "listen, little brother! that field belongs to the landlord?" "not at all, master; it is muzhik-land." on arriving at the country-house i told my friends what i had seen, and they explained it to me. smolensk is no longer one of the poorer provinces; it has become comparatively prosperous. in two or three districts large quantities of flax are produced and give the cultivators a big revenue; in other districts plenty of remunerative work is supplied by the forests. everywhere a considerable proportion of the younger men go regularly to the towns and bring home savings enough to pay the taxes and make a little surplus in the domestic budget. a few days afterwards the village secretary brought me his books, and showed me that there were practically no arrears of taxation. passing on to other provinces i found similar proofs of progress and prosperity, but at the same time not a few indications of impoverishment; and i was rapidly relapsing into my previous state of uncertainty as to whether any general conclusions could be drawn, when an old friend, himself a first-rate authority with many years of practical experience, came to my assistance.* he informed me that a number of specialists had recently made detailed investigations into the present economic conditions of the rural population, and he kindly placed at my disposal, in his charming country-house near moscow, the voluminous researches of these investigators. here, during a good many weeks, i revelled in the statistical materials collected, and to the best of my ability i tested the conclusions drawn from them. many of these conclusions i had to dismiss with the scotch verdict of "not proven," whilst others seemed to me worthy of acceptance. of these latter the most important were those drawn from the arrears of taxation. * i hope i am committing no indiscretion when i say that the old friend in question was prince alexander stcherbatof of vasilefskoe. the arrears in the payment of taxes may be regarded as a pretty safe barometer for testing the condition of the rural population, because the peasant habitually pays his rates and taxes when he has the means of doing so; when he falls seriously and permanently into arrears it may be assumed that he is becoming impoverished. if the arrears fluctuate from year to year, the causes of the impoverishment may be regarded as accidental and perhaps temporary, but if they steadily accumulate, we must conclude that there is something radically wrong. bearing these facts in mind, let us hear what the statistics say. during the first twenty years after the emancipation ( - ) things went on in their old grooves. the poor provinces remained poor, and the fertile provinces showed no signs of distress. during the next twenty years ( - ) the arrears of the whole of european russia rose, roughly speaking, from to millions of roubles, and the increase, strange to say, took place in the fertile provinces. in , for example, out of millions, nearly millions, or per cent., fell to the share of the provinces of the black-earth zone. in seven of these the average arrears per male, which had been in only kopeks, rose in to , and in to , ! and this accumulation had taken place in spite of reductions of taxation to the extent of million roubles in - , and successive famine grants from the treasury in - to the amount of millions.* on the other hand, in the provinces with a poor soil the arrears had greatly decreased. in smolensk, for example, they had sunk from per cent, to per cent. of the annual sum to be paid, and in nearly all the other provinces of the west and north a similar change for the better had taken place. these and many other figures which i might quote show that a great and very curious economic revolution has been gradually effected. the black-earth zone, which was formerly regarded as the inexhaustible granary of the empire, has become impoverished, whilst the provinces which were formerly regarded as hopelessly poor are now in a comparatively flourishing condition. this fact has been officially recognised. in a classification of the provinces according to their degree of prosperity, drawn up by a special commission of experts in , those with a poor light soil appear at the top, and those with the famous black earth are at the bottom of the list. in the deliberations of the commission many reasons for this extraordinary state of things are adduced. most of them have merely a local significance. the big fact, taken as a whole, seems to me to show that, in consequence of certain changes of which i shall speak presently, the peasantry of european russia can no longer live by the traditional modes of agriculture, even in the most fertile districts, and require for their support some subsidiary occupations such as are practised in the less fertile provinces. * in an additional famine grant of / million roubles had to be made by the government. another sign of impoverishment is the decrease in the quantity of live stock. according to the very imperfect statistics available, for every hundred inhabitants the number of horses has decreased from to , the number of cattle from to , and the number of sheep from to . this is a serious matter, because it means that the land is not so well manured and cultivated as formerly, and is consequently not so productive. several economists have attempted to fix precisely to what extent the productivity has decreased, but i confess i have little faith in the accuracy of their conclusions. m. polenof, for example, a most able and conscientious investigator, calculates that between and , all over russia, the amount of food produced, in relation to the number of the population, has decreased by seven per cent. his methods of calculation are ingenious, but the statistical data with which he operates are so far from accurate that his conclusions on this point have, in my opinion, little or no scientific value. with all due deference to russian economists, i may say parenthetically that they are very found of juggling with carelessly collected statistics, as if their data were mathematical quantities. several of the zemstvos have grappled with this question of peasant impoverishment, and the data which they have collected make a very doleful impression. in the province of moscow, for example, a careful investigation gave the following results: forty per cent. of the peasant households had no longer any horses, per cent. had given up agriculture altogether, and about per cent. had no longer any land. we must not, however, assume, as is often done, that the peasant families who have no live stock and no longer till the land are utterly ruined. in reality many of them are better off than their neighbours who appear as prosperous in the official statistics, having found profitable occupation in the home industries, in the towns, in the factories, or on the estates of the landed proprietors. it must be remembered that moscow is the centre of one of the regions in which manufacturing industry has progressed with gigantic strides during the last half-century, and it would be strange indeed if, in such a region, the peasantry who supply the labour to the towns and factories remained thriving agriculturists. that many russians are surprised and horrified at the actual state of things shows to what an extent the educated classes are still under the illusion that russia can create for herself a manufacturing industry capable of competing with that of western europe without uprooting from the soil a portion of her rural population. it is only in the purely agricultural regions that families officially classed as belonging to the peasantry may be regarded as on the brink of pauperism because they have no live stock, and even with regard to them i should hesitate to make such an assumption, because the muzhiks, as i have already had occasion to remark, have strange nomadic habits unknown to the rural population of other countries. it is a mistake, therefore, to calculate the russian peasant's budget exclusively on the basis of local resources. to the pessimists who assure me that according to their calculations the peasantry in general must be on the brink of starvation, i reply that there are many facts, even in the statistical tables on which they rely, which run counter to their deductions. let me quote one by way of illustration. the total amount of deposits in savings banks, about one-fourth of which is believed to belong to the rural population, rose in the course of six years ( - ) from to millions of roubles. besides the savings banks, there existed in the rural districts on st december, , no less than , small-credit institutions, with a total capital ( st january, ) of million roubles, of which only , , had been advanced by the state bank and the zemstvo, the remainder coming in from private sources. this is not much for a big country like russia, but it is a beginning, and it suggests that the impoverishment is not so severe and so universal as the pessimists would have us believe. there is thus room for differences of opinion as to how far the peasantry have become impoverished, but there is no doubt that their condition is far from satisfactory, and we have to face the important problem why the abolition of serfage has not produced the beneficent consequences which even moderate men so confidently predicted, and how the present unsatisfactory state of things is to be remedied. the most common explanation among those who have never seriously studied the subject is that it all comes from the demoralisation of the common people. in this view there is a modicum of truth. that the peasantry injure their material welfare by drunkenness and improvidence there can be no reasonable doubt, as is shown by the comparatively flourishing state of certain villages of old ritualists and molokanye in which there is no drunkenness, and in which the community exercises a strong moral control over the individual members. if the orthodox church could make the peasantry refrain from the inordinate use of strong drink as effectually as it makes them refrain during a great part of the year from animal food, and if it could instil into their minds a few simple moral principles as successfully as it has inspired them with a belief in the efficacy of the sacraments, it would certainly confer on them an inestimable benefit. but this is not to be expected. the great majority of the parish priests are quite unfit for such a task, and the few who have aspirations in that direction rarely acquire a perceptible moral influence over their parishioners. perhaps more is to be expected from the schoolmaster than from the priest, but it will be long before the schools can produce even a partial moral regeneration. their first influence, strange as the assertion may seem, is often in a diametrically opposite direction. when only a few peasants in a village can read and write they have such facilities for overreaching their "dark" neighbours that they are apt to employ their knowledge for dishonest purposes; and thus it occasionally happens that the man who has the most education is the greatest scoundrel in the mir. such facts are often used by the opponents of popular education, but in reality they supply a good reason for disseminating primary education as rapidly as possible. when all the peasants have learned to read and write they will present a less inviting field for swindling, and the temptations to dishonesty will be proportionately diminished. meanwhile, it is only fair to state that the common assertions about drunkenness being greatly on the increase are not borne out by the official statistics concerning the consumption of spirituous liquors. after drunkenness, the besetting sin which is supposed to explain the impoverishment of the peasantry is incorrigible laziness. on that subject i feel inclined to put in a plea of extenuating circumstances in favour of the muzhik. certainly he is very slow in his movements--slower perhaps than the english rustic--and he has a marvellous capacity for wasting valuable time without any perceptible qualms of conscience; but he is in this respect, if i may use a favourite phrase of the social scientists, "the product of environment." to the proprietors who habitually reproach him with time-wasting he might reply with a very strong tu quoque argument, and to all the other classes the argument might likewise be addressed. the st. petersburg official, for example, who writes edifying disquisitions about peasant indolence, considers that for himself attendance at his office for four hours, a large portion of which is devoted to the unproductive labour of cigarette smoking, constitutes a very fair day's work. the truth is that in russia the struggle for life is not nearly so intense as in more densely populated countries, and society is so constituted that all can live without very strenuous exertion. the russians seem, therefore, to the traveller who comes from the west an indolent, apathetic race. if the traveller happens to come from the east--especially if he has been living among pastoral races--the russians will appear to him energetic and laborious. their character in this respect corresponds to their geographical position: they stand midway between the laborious, painstaking, industrious population of western europe and the indolent, undisciplined, spasmodically energetic populations of central asia. they are capable of effecting much by vigorous, intermittent effort--witness the peasant at harvest-time, or the st. petersburg official when some big legislative project has to be submitted to the emperor within a given time--but they have not yet learned regular laborious habits. in short, the russians might move the world if it could be done by a jerk, but they are still deficient in that calm perseverance and dogged tenacity which characterise the teutonic race. without seeking further to determine how far the moral defects of the peasantry have a deleterious influence on their material welfare, i proceed to examine the external causes which are generally supposed to contribute largely to their impoverishment, and will deal first with the evils of peasant self-government. that the peasant self-government is very far from being in a satisfactory condition must be admitted by any impartial observer. the more laborious and well-to-do peasants, unless they wish to abuse their position directly or indirectly for their own advantage, try to escape election as office-bearers, and leave the administration in the hands of the less respectable members. not unfrequently a volost elder trades with the money he collects as dues or taxes; and sometimes, when he becomes insolvent, the peasants have to pay their taxes and dues a second time. the village assemblies, too, have become worse than they were in the days of serfage. at that time the heads of households--who, it must be remembered, have alone a voice in the decisions--were few in number, laborious, and well-to-do, and they kept the lazy, unruly members under strict control. now that the large families have been broken up and almost every adult peasant is head of a household, the communal affairs are sometimes decided by a noisy majority; and certain communal decisions may be obtained by "treating the mir"--that is to say, by supplying a certain amount of vodka. often i have heard old peasants speak of these things, and finish their recital by some such remark as this: "there is no order now; the people have been spoiled; it was better in the time of the masters." these evils are very real, and i have no desire to extenuate them, but i believe they are by no means so great as is commonly supposed. if the lazy, worthless members of the commune had really the direction of communal affairs we should find that in the northern agricultural zone, where it is necessary to manure the soil, the periodical redistributions of the communal land would be very frequent; for in a new distribution the lazy peasant has a good chance of getting a well-manured lot in exchange for the lot which he has exhausted. in reality, so far as my observations extend, these general distributions of the land are not more frequent than they were before. of the various functions of the peasant self-government the judicial are perhaps the most frequently and the most severely criticised. and certainly not without reason, for the volost courts are too often accessible to the influence of alcohol, and in some districts the peasants say that he who becomes a judge takes a sin on his soul. i am not at all sure, however, that it would be well to abolish these courts altogether, as some people propose. in many respects they are better suited to peasant requirements than the ordinary tribunals. their procedure is infinitely simpler, more expeditious, and incomparably less expensive, and they are guided by traditional custom and plain common-sense, whereas the ordinary tribunals have to judge according to the civil law, which is unknown to the peasantry and not always applicable to their affairs. few ordinary judges have a sufficiently intimate knowledge of the minute details of peasant life to be able to decide fairly the cases that are brought before the volost courts; and even if a justice had sufficient knowledge he could not adopt the moral and juridical notions of the peasantry. these are often very different from those of the upper classes. in cases of matrimonial separation, for instance, the educated man naturally assumes that, if there is any question of aliment, it should be paid by the husband to the wife. the peasant, on the contrary, assumes as naturally that it should be paid by the wife to the husband--or rather to the head of the household--as a compensation for the loss of labour which her desertion involves. in like manner, according to traditional peasant-law, if an unmarried son is working away from home, his earnings do not belong to himself, but to the family, and in volost court they could be claimed by the head of the household. occasionally, it is true, the peasant judges allow their respect for old traditional conceptions in general and for the authority of parents in particular, to carry them a little too far. i was told lately of one affair which took place not long ago, within a hundred miles of moscow, in which the judge decided that a respectable young peasant should be flogged because he refused to give his father the money he earned as groom in the service of a neighbouring proprietor, though it was notorious in the district that the father was a disreputable old drunkard who carried to the kabak (gin-shop) all the money he could obtain by fair means and foul. when i remarked to my informant, who was not an admirer of peasant institutions, that the incident reminded me of the respect for the patria potestas in old roman times, he stared at me with a look of surprise and indignation, and exclaimed laconically, "patria potestas? . . . vodka!" he was evidently convinced that the disreputable father had got his respectable son flogged by "treating" the judges. in such cases flogging can no longer be used, for the volost courts, as we have seen, were recently deprived of the right to inflict corporal punishment. these administrative and judicial abuses gradually reached the ears of the government, and in it attempted to remove them by creating a body of rural supervisors (zemskiye natchalniki). under their supervision and control some abuses may have been occasionally prevented or corrected, and some rascally volost secretaries may have been punished or dismissed, but the peasant self-government as a whole has not been perceptibly improved. let us glance now at the opinions of those who hold that the material progress of the peasantry is prevented chiefly, not by the mere abuses of the communal administration, but by the essential principles of the communal institutions, and especially by the practice of periodically redistributing the communal land. from the theoretical point of view this question is one of great interest, and it may acquire in the future an immense practical significance; but for the present it has not, in my opinion, the importance which is usually attributed to it. there can be no doubt that it is much more difficult to farm well on a large number of narrow strips of land, many of which are at a great distance from the farmyard, than on a compact piece of land which the farmer may divide and cultivate as he pleases; and there can be as little doubt that the husbandman is more likely to improve his land if his tenure is secure. all this and much more of the same kind must be accepted as indisputable truth, but it has little direct bearing on the practical question under consideration. we are not considering in the abstract whether it would be better that the peasant should be a farmer with abundant capital and all the modern scientific appliances, but simply the practical question, what are the obstructions which at present prevent the peasant from ameliorating his actual condition? that the commune prevents its members from adopting various systems of high farming is a supposition which scarcely requires serious consideration. the peasants do not yet think of any such radical innovations; and if they did, they have neither the knowledge nor the capital necessary to effect them. in many villages a few of the richer and more intelligent peasants have bought land outside of the commune and cultivate it as they please, free from all communal restraints; and i have always found that they cultivate this property precisely in the same way as their share of the communal land. as to minor changes, we know by experience that the mir opposes to them no serious obstacles. the cultivation of beet for the production of sugar has greatly increased in the central and southwestern provinces, and flax is now largely produced in communes in northern districts where it was formerly cultivated merely for domestic use. the communal system is, in fact, extremely elastic, and may be modified as soon as the majority of the members consider modifications profitable. when the peasants begin to think of permanent improvements, such as drainage, irrigation, and the like, they will find the communal institutions a help rather than an obstruction; for such improvements, if undertaken at all, must be undertaken on a larger scale, and the mir is an already existing association. the only permanent improvements which can be for the present profitably undertaken consist in the reclaiming of waste land; and such improvements are already sometimes attempted. i know at least of one case in which a commune in the province of yaroslavl has reclaimed a considerable tract of waste land by means of hired labourers. nor does the mir prevent in this respect individual initiative. in many communes of the northern provinces it is a received principle of customary law that if any member reclaims waste land he is allowed to retain possession of it for a number of years proportionate to the amount of labour expended. but does not the commune, as it exists, prevent good cultivation according to the mode of agriculture actually in use? except in the far north and the steppe region, where the agriculture is of a peculiar kind, adapted to the local conditions, the peasants invariably till their land according to the ordinary three-field system, in which good cultivation means, practically speaking, the plentiful use of manure. does, then, the existence of the mir prevent the peasants from manuring their fields well? many people who speak on this subject in an authoritative tone seem to imagine that the peasants in general do not manure their fields at all. this idea is an utter mistake. in those regions, it is true, where the rich black soil still retains a large part of its virgin fertility, the manure is used as fuel, or simply thrown away, because the peasants believe that it would not be profitable to put it on their fields, and their conviction is, at least to some extent, well founded;* but in the northern agricultural zone, where unmanured soil gives almost no harvest, the peasants put upon their fields all the manure they possess. if they do not put enough it is simply because they have not sufficient live stock. * as recently as two years ago ( ) i found that one of the most intelligent and energetic landlords of the province of voronezh followed in this respect the example of the peasants, and he assured me that he had proved by experience the advantage of doing so. it is only in the southern provinces, where no manure is required, that periodical re-distributions take place frequently. as we travel northward we find the term lengthens; and in the northern agricultural zone, where manure is indispensable, general re-distributions are extremely rare. in the province of yaroslavl, for example, the communal land is generally divided into two parts: the manured land lying near the village, and the unmanured land lying beyond. the latter alone is subject to frequent re-distribution. on the former the existing tenures are rarely disturbed, and when it becomes necessary to give a share to a new household, the change is effected with the least possible prejudice to vested rights. the policy of the government has always been to admit redistributions in principle, but to prevent their too frequent recurrence. for this purpose the emancipation law stipulated that they could be decreed only by a three-fourths majority of the village assembly, and in a further obstacle was created by a law providing that the minimum term between two re-distributions should be twelve years, and that they should never be undertaken without the sanction of the rural supervisor. a certain number of communes have made the experiment of transforming the communal tenure into hereditary allotments, and its only visible effect has been that the allotments accumulate in the hands of the richer and more enterprising peasants, and the poorer members of the commune become landless, while the primitive system of agriculture remains unimproved. up to this point i have dealt with the so-called causes of peasant impoverishment which are much talked of, but which are, in my opinion, only of secondary importance. i pass now to those which are more tangible and which have exerted on the condition of the peasantry a more palpable influence. and, first, inordinate taxation. this is a very big subject, on which a bulky volume might be written, but i shall cut it very short, because i know that the ordinary reader does not like to be bothered with voluminous financial statistics. briefly, then, the peasant has to pay three kinds of direct taxation: imperial to the central government, local to the zemstvo, and commune to the mir and the volost; and besides these he has to pay a yearly sum for the redemption of the land-allotment which he received at the time of the emancipation. taken together, these form a heavy burden, but for ten or twelve years the emancipated peasantry bore it patiently, without falling very deeply into arrears. then began to appear symptoms of distress, especially in the provinces with a poor soil, and in the government appointed a commission of inquiry, in which i had the privilege of taking part unofficially. the inquiry showed that something ought to be done, but at that moment the government was so busy with administrative reforms and with trying to develop industry and commerce that it had little time to devote to studying and improving the economic position of the silent, long-suffering muzhik. it was not till nearly ten years later, when the government began to feel the pinch of the ever-increasing arrears, that it recognised the necessity of relieving the rural population. for this purpose it abolished the salt-tax and the poll-tax and repeatedly lessened the burden of the redemption-payments. at a later period ( ) it afforded further relief by an important reform in the mode of collecting the direct taxes. from the police, who often ruined peasant householders by applying distraint indiscriminately, the collection of taxes was transferred to special authorities who took into consideration the temporary pecuniary embarrassments of the tax-payers. another benefit conferred on the peasantry by this reform is that an individual member of the commune is no longer responsible for the fiscal obligations of the commune as a whole. since these alleviations have been granted the annual total demanded from the peasantry for direct taxation and land-redemption payments is million roubles, and the average annual sum to be paid by each peasant household varies, according to the locality, from / to roubles ( s. d. to s.). in addition to this annuity there is a heavy burden of accumulated arrears, especially in the central and eastern provinces, which amounted in to millions. of the indirect taxes i can say nothing definite, because it is impossible to calculate, even approximately, the share of them which falls on the rural population, but they must not be left out of account. during the ten years of m. witte's term of office the revenue of the imperial treasury was nearly doubled, and though the increase was due partly to improvements in the financial administration, we can hardly believe that the peasantry did not in some measure contribute to it. in any case, it is very difficult, if not impossible, for them, under actual conditions, to improve their economic position. on that point all russian economists are agreed. one of the most competent and sober-minded of them, m. schwanebach, calculates that the head of a peasant household, after deducting the grain required to feed his family, has to pay into the imperial treasury, according to the district in which he resides, from to per cent, of his agricultural revenue. if that ingenious calculation is even approximately correct, we must conclude that further financial reforms are urgently required, especially in those provinces where the population live exclusively by agriculture. heavy as the burden of taxation undoubtedly is, it might perhaps be borne without very serious inconvenience if the peasant families could utilise productively all their time and strength. unfortunately in the existing economic organisation a great deal of their time and energy is necessarily wasted. their economic life was radically dislocated by the emancipation, and they have not yet succeeded in reorganising it according to the new conditions. in the time of serfage an estate formed, from the economic point of view, a co-operative agricultural association, under a manager who possessed unlimited authority, and sometimes abused it, but who was generally worldly-wise enough to understand that the prosperity of the whole required the prosperity of the component parts. by the abolition of serfage the association was dissolved and liquidated, and the strong, compact whole fell into a heap of independent units, with separate and often mutually hostile interests. some of the disadvantages of this change for the peasantry i have already enumerated above. the most important i have now to mention. in virtue of the emancipation law each family received an amount of land which tempted it to continue farming on its own account, but which did not enable it to earn a living and pay its rates and taxes. the peasant thus became a kind of amphibious creature--half farmer and half something else--cultivating his allotment for a portion of his daily bread, and obliged to have some other occupation wherewith to cover the inevitable deficit in his domestic budget. if he was fortunate enough to find near his home a bit of land to be let at a reasonable rent, he might cultivate it in addition to his own and thereby gain a livelihood; but if he had not the good luck to find such a piece of land in the immediate neighbourhood, he had to look for some subsidiary occupation in which to employ his leisure time; and where was such occupation to be found in an ordinary russian village? in former years he might have employed himself perhaps in carting the proprietor's grain to distant markets or still more distant seaports, but that means of making a little money has been destroyed by the extension of railways. practically, then, he is now obliged to choose between two alternatives: either to farm his allotment and spend a great part of the year in idleness, or to leave the cultivation of his allotment to his wife and children and to seek employment elsewhere--often at such a distance that his earnings hardly cover the expenses of the journey. in either case much time and energy are wasted. the evil results of this state of things were intensified by another change which was brought about by the emancipation. in the time of serfage the peasant families, as i have already remarked, were usually very large. they remained undivided, partly from the influence of patriarchal conceptions, but chiefly because the proprietors, recognising the advantage of large units, prevented them from breaking up. as soon as the proprietor's authority was removed, the process of disintegration began and spread rapidly. every one wished to be independent, and in a very short time nearly every able-bodied married peasant had a house of his own. the economic consequences were disastrous. a large amount of money had to be expended in constructing new houses and farmsteadings; and the old habit of one male member remaining at home to cultivate the land allotment with the female members of the family whilst the others went to earn wages elsewhere had to be abandoned. many large families, which had been prosperous and comfortable--rich according to peasant conceptions--dissolved into three or four small ones, all on the brink of pauperism. the last cause of peasant impoverishment that i have to mention is perhaps the most important of all: i mean the natural increase of population without a corresponding increase in the means of subsistence. since the emancipation in the population has nearly doubled, whilst the amount of communal land has remained the same. it is not surprising, therefore, that when talking with peasants about their actual condition, one constantly hears the despairing cry, "zemli malo!" ("there is not enough land"); and one notices that those who look a little ahead ask anxiously: "what is to become of our children? already the communal allotment is too small for our wants, and the land outside is doubling and trebling in price! what will it be in the future?" at the same time, not a few russian economists tell us--and their apprehensions are shared by foreign observers--that millions of peasants are in danger of starvation in the near future. must we, then, accept for russia the malthus doctrine that population increases more rapidly than the means of subsistence, and that starvation can be avoided only by plague, pestilence, war, and other destructive forces? i think not. it is quite true that, if the amount of land actually possessed by the peasantry and the present system of cultivating it remained unchanged, semi-starvation would be the inevitable result within a comparatively short space of time; but the danger can be averted, and the proper remedies are not far to seek. if russia is suffering from over-population, it must be her own fault, for she is, with the exception of norway and sweden, the most thinly populated country in europe, and she has more than her share of fertile soil and mineral resources. a glance at the map showing the density of population in the various provinces suggests an obvious remedy, and i am happy to say it is already being applied. the population of the congested districts of the centre is gradually spreading out, like a drop of oil on a sheet of soft paper, towards the more thinly populated regions of the south and east. in this way the vast region containing millions and millions of acres which lies to the north of the black sea, the caucasus, the caspian, and central asia is yearly becoming more densely peopled, and agriculture is steadily encroaching on the pastoral area. breeders of sheep and cattle, who formerly lived and throve in the western portion of that great expanse, are being pushed eastwards by the rapid increase in the value of land, and their place is being taken by enterprising tillers of the soil. further north another stream of emigration is flowing into central siberia. it does not flow so rapidly, because in that part of the empire, unlike the bare, fertile steppes of the south, the land has to be cleared before the seed can be sown, and the pioneer colonists have to work hard for a year or two before they get any return for their labour; but the government and private societies come to their assistance, and for the last twenty years their numbers have been steadily increasing. during the ten years - the annual contingent rose from , to , , and the total number amounted to nearly , . for the subsequent period i have not been able to obtain the official statistics, but a friend who has access to the official sources of information on this subject assures me that during the last twelve years about four millions of peasants from european russia have been successfully settled in siberia. even in the european portion of the empire millions of acres which are at present unproductive might be utilised. any one who has travelled by rail from berlin to st. petersburg must have noticed how the landscape suddenly changes its character as soon as he has crossed the frontier. leaving a prosperous agricultural country, he traverses for many weary hours a region in which there is hardly a sign of human habitation, though the soil and climate of that region resembles closely the soil and climate of east prussia. the difference lies in the amount of labour and capital expended. according to official statistics the area of european russia contains, roughly speaking, millions of dessyatins, of which millions, or per cent., are classified as neudobniya, unfit for cultivation; millions, or per cent., as forest; millions, or per cent., as arable land; and millions, or per cent., as pasturage. thus the arable and pasture land compose only per cent., or considerably less than half the area. of the land classed as unfit for cultivation-- per cent. of the whole--a large portion, including the perennially frozen tundri of the far north, must ever remain unproductive, but in latitudes with a milder climate this category of land is for the most part ordinary morass or swamp, which can be transformed into pasturage, or even into arable land, by drainage at a moderate cost. as a proof of this statement i may cite the draining of the great pinsk swamps, which was begun by the government in . if we may trust an official report of the progress of the works in , an area of , , dessyatins (more than seven and a half million acres) had been drained at an average cost of about three shillings an acre, and the price of land had risen from four to twenty-eight roubles per dessyatin. reclamation of marshes might be undertaken elsewhere on a much more moderate scale. the observant traveller on the highways and byways of the northern provinces must have noticed on the banks of almost every stream many acres of marshy land producing merely reeds or coarse rank grass that no well-brought-up animal would look at. with a little elementary knowledge of engineering and the expenditure of a moderate amount of manual labour these marshes might be converted into excellent pasture or even into highly productive kitchen-gardens; but the peasants have not yet learned to take advantage of such opportunities, and the reformers, who deal only in large projects and scientific panaceas for the cure of impoverishment, consider such trifles as unworthy of their attention. the scotch proverb that if the pennies be well looked after, the pounds will look after themselves, contains a bit of homely wisdom totally unknown to the russian educated classes. after the morasses, swamps, and marshes come the forests, constituting per cent. of the whole area, and the question naturally arises whether some portions of them might not be advantageously transformed into pasturage or arable land. in the south and east they have been diminished to such an extent as to affect the climate injuriously, so that the area of them should be increased rather than lessened; but in the northern provinces the vast expanses of forest, covering millions of acres, might perhaps be curtailed with advantage. the proprietors prefer, however, to keep them in their present condition because they give a modest revenue without any expenditure of capital. therein lies the great obstacle to land-reclamation in russia: it requires an outlay of capital, and capital is extremely scarce in the empire of the tsars. until it becomes more plentiful, the area of arable land and pasturage is not likely to be largely increased, and other means of checking the impoverishment of the peasantry must be adopted. a less expensive means is suggested by the statistics of foreign trade. in the preceding chapter we have seen that from to the average annual export of grain rose steadily from under / millions to over millions of tons. it is evident, therefore, that in the food supply, so far from there being a deficiency, there has been a large and constantly increasing surplus. if the peasantry have been on short rations, it is not because the quantity of food produced has fallen short of the requirements of the population, but because it has been unequally distributed. the truth is that the large landed proprietors produce more and the peasants less than they consume, and it has naturally occurred to many people that the present state of things might be improved if a portion of the arable land passed, without any socialistic, revolutionary measures, from the one class to the other. this operation began spontaneously soon after the emancipation. well-to-do peasants who had saved a little money bought from the proprietors bits of land near their villages and cultivated them in addition to their allotments. at first this extension of peasant land was confined within very narrow limits, because the peasants had very little capital at their disposal, but in the government came to their aid by creating the peasant land bank, the object of which was to advance money to purchasers of the peasant class on the security of the land purchased, at the rate of / per cent., including sinking fund.* from that moment the purchases increased rapidly. they were made by individual peasants, by rural communes, and, most of all, by small voluntary associations composed of three, four, or more members. in the course of twenty years ( - ) the bank made , advances, and in this way were purchased about eighteen million acres. this sounds a very big acquisition, but it will not do much to relieve the pressure on the peasantry as a whole, because it adds only about per cent. to the amount they already possessed in virtue of the emancipation law. * this arrangement extinguishes the debt in / years; an additional per cent, extinguishes it in / years. by recent legislation other arrangements are permitted. nearly all of this land purchased by the peasantry comes directly or indirectly from the noblesse, and much more will doubtless pass from the one class to the other if the government continues to encourage the operation; but already symptoms of a change of policy are apparent. in the higher official regions it is whispered that the existing policy is objectionable from the political point of view, and one sometimes hears the question asked: is it right and desirable that the noblesse, who have ever done their duty in serving faithfully the tsar and fatherland, and who have ever been the representatives of civilisation and culture in russian country life, should be gradually expropriated in favour of other and less cultivated social classes? not a few influential personages are of opinion that such a change is unjust and undesirable, and they argue that it is not advantageous to the peasants themselves, because the price of land has risen much more than the rents. it is not at all uncommon, for example, to find that land can be rented at five roubles per dessyatin, whereas it cannot be bought under roubles. in that case the peasant can enjoy the use of the land at the moderate rate of / per cent. of the capital value, whereas by purchasing the land with the assistance of the bank he would have to pay, without sinking fund, more than double that rate. the muzhik, however, prefers to be owner of the land, even at a considerable sacrifice. when he can be induced to give his reasons, they are usually formulated thus: "with my own land i can do as i like; if i hire land from the neighbouring proprietor, who knows whether, at the end of the term, he may not raise the rent or refuse to renew the contract at any price?" even if the government should continue to encourage the purchase of land by the peasantry, the process is too slow to meet all the requirements of the situation. some additional expedient must be found, and we naturally look for it in the experience of older countries with a denser population. in the more densely populated countries of western europe a safety-valve for the inordinate increase of the rural population has been provided by the development of manufacturing industry. high wages and the attractions of town life draw the rural population to the industrial centres, and the movement has increased to such an extent that already complaints are heard of the rural districts becoming depopulated. in russia a similar movement is taking place on a smaller scale. during the last forty years, under the fostering influence of a protective tariff, the manufacturing industry has made gigantic strides, as we shall see in a future chapter, and it has already absorbed about two millions of the redundant hands in the villages; but it cannot keep pace with the rapid increasing surplus. two millions are less than two per cent. of the population. the great mass of the people has always been, and must long continue to be, purely agricultural; and it is to their fields that they must look for the means of subsistence. if the fields do not supply enough for their support under the existing primitive methods of cultivation, better methods must be adopted. to use a favourite semi-scientific phrase, russia has now reached the point in her economic development at which she must abandon her traditional extensive system of agriculture and adopt a more intensive system. so far all competent authorities are agreed. but how is the transition, which requires technical knowledge, a spirit of enterprise, an enormous capital, and a dozen other things which the peasantry do not at present possess, to be effected? here begin the well-marked differences of opinion. hitherto the momentous problem has been dealt with chiefly by the theorists and doctrinaires who delight in radical solutions by means of panaceas, and who have little taste for detailed local investigation and gradual improvement. i do not refer to the so-called "saviours of the fatherland" (spasiteli otetchestva), well-meaning cranks and visionaries who discover ingenious devices for making their native country at once prosperous and happy. i speak of the great majority of reasonable, educated men who devote some attention to the problem. their favourite method of dealing with it is this: the intensive system of agriculture requires scientific knowledge and a higher level of intellectual culture. what has to be done, therefore, is to create agricultural colleges supplied with all the newest appliances of agronomic research and to educate the peasantry to such an extent that they may be able to use the means which science recommends. for many years this doctrine prevailed in the press, among the reading public, and even in the official world. the government was accordingly urged to improve and multiply the agronomic colleges and the schools of all grades and descriptions. learned dissertations were published on the chemical constitution of the various soils, the action of the atmosphere on the different ingredients, the necessity of making careful meteorological observations, and numerous other topics of a similar kind; and would-be reformers who had no taste for such highly technical researches could console themselves with the idea that they were advancing the vital interests of the country by discussing the relative merits of communal and personal land-tenure--deciding generally in favour of the former as more in accordance with the peculiarities of russian, as contrasted with west european, principles of economic and social development. while much valuable time and energy were thus being expended to little purpose, on the assumption that the old system might be left untouched until the preparations for a radical solution had been completed, disagreeable facts which could not be entirely overlooked gradually produced in influential quarters the conviction that the question was much more urgent than was commonly supposed. a sensitive chord in the heart of the government was struck by the steadily increasing arrears of taxation, and spasmodic attempts have since been made to cure the evil. in the local administration, too, the urgency of the question has come to be recognised, and measures are now being taken by the zemstvo to help the peasantry in making gradually the transition to that higher system of agriculture which is the only means of permanently saving them from starvation. for this purpose, in many districts well-trained specialists have been appointed to study the local conditions and to recommend to the villagers such simple improvements as are within their means. these improvements may be classified under the following heads: ( ) increase of the cereal crops by better seed and improved implements. ( ) change in the rotation of crops by the introduction of certain grasses and roots which improve the soil and supply food for live stock. ( ) improvement and increase of live stock, so as to get more labour-power, more manure, more dairy-produce, and more meat. ( ) increased cultivation of vegetables and fruit. with these objects in view the zemstvo is establishing depots in which improved implements and better seed are sold at moderate prices, and the payments are made in installments, so that even the poorer members of the community can take advantage of the facilities offered. bulls and stallions are kept at central points for the purpose of improving the breed of cattle and horses, and the good results are already visible. elementary instruction in farming and gardening is being introduced into the primary schools. in some districts the exertions of the zemstvo are supplemented by small agricultural societies, mutual credit associations, and village banks, and these are to some extent assisted by the central government. but the beneficent action in this direction is not all official. many proprietors deserve great praise for the good influence which they exercise on the peasants of their neighbourhood and the assistance they give them; and it must be admitted that their patience is often sorely tried, for the peasants have the obstinacy of ignorance, and possess other qualities which are not sympathetic. i know one excellent proprietor who began his civilising efforts by giving to the mir of the nearest village an iron plough as a model and a fine pedigree ram as a producer, and who found, on returning from a tour abroad, that during his absence the plough had been sold for vodka, and the pedigree ram had been eaten before it had time to produce any descendants! in spite of this he continues his efforts, and not altogether without success. it need hardly be said that the progress of the peasantry is not so rapid as could be wished. the muzhik is naturally conservative, and is ever inclined to regard novelties with suspicion. even when he is half convinced of the utility of some change, he has still to think about it for a long time and talk it over again and again with his friends and neighbours, and this preparatory stage of progress may last for years. unless he happens to be a man of unusual intelligence and energy, it is only when he sees with his own eyes that some humble individual of his own condition in life has actually gained by abandoning the old routine and taking to new courses, that he makes up his mind to take the plunge himself. still, he is beginning to jog on. e pur si muove! a spirit of progress is beginning to move on the face of the long-stagnant waters, and progress once begun is pretty sure to continue with increasing rapidity. with starvation hovering in the rear, even the most conservative are not likely to stop or turn back. chapter xxxii the zemstvo and the local self-government necessity of reorganising the provincial administration--zemstvo created in --my first acquaintance with the institution--district and provincial assemblies--the leading members--great expectations created by the institution--these expectations not realised--suspicions and hostility of the bureaucracy--zemstvo brought more under control of the centralised administration--what it has really done--why it has not done more---rapid increase of the rates--how far the expenditure is judicious--why the impoverishment of the peasantry was neglected--unpractical, pedantic spirit--evil consequences--chinese and russian formalism--local self-government of russia contrasted with that of england--zemstvo better than its predecessors--its future. after the emancipation of the serfs the reform most urgently required was the improvement of the provincial administration. in the time of serfage the emperor nicholas, referring to the landed proprietors, used to say in a jocular tone that he had in his empire , most zealous and efficient hereditary police-masters. by the emancipation law the authority of these hereditary police-masters was for ever abolished, and it became urgently necessary to put something else in its place. peasant self-government was accordingly organised on the basis of the rural commune; but it fell far short of meeting the requirements of the situation. its largest unit was the volost, which comprises merely a few contiguous communes, and its action is confined exclusively to the peasantry. evidently it was necessary to create a larger administrative unit, in which the interests of all classes of the population could be attended to, and for this purpose alexander ii. in november, , more than a year before the emancipation edict, instructed a special commission to prepare a project for giving to the inefficient, dislocated provincial administration greater unity and independence. the project was duly prepared, and after being discussed in the council of state it received the imperial sanction in january, . it was supposed to give, in the words of an explanatory memorandum attached to it, "as far as possible a complete and logical development to the principle of local self-government." thus was created the zemstvo,* which has recently attracted considerable attention in western europe, and which is destined, perhaps, to play a great political part in the future. * the term zemstvo is derived from the word zemlya, meaning land, and might be translated, if a barbarism were permissible, by land-dom on the analogy of kingdom, dukedom, etc. my personal acquaintance with this interesting institution dates from . very soon after my arrival at novgorod in that year, i made the acquaintance of a gentleman who was described to me as "the president of the provincial zemstvo-bureau," and finding him amiable and communicative, i suggested that he might give me some information regarding the institution of which he was the chief local representative. with the utmost readiness he proposed to be my mentor, introduced me to his colleagues, and invited me to come and see him at his office as often as i felt inclined. of this invitation i made abundant use. at first my visits were discreetly few and short, but when i found that my new friend and his colleagues really wished to instruct me in all the details of zemstvo administration, and had arranged a special table in the president's room for my convenience, i became a regular attendant, and spent daily several hours in the bureau, studying the current affairs, and noting down the interesting bits of statistical and other information which came before the members, as if i had been one of their number. when they went to inspect the hospital, the lunatic asylum, the seminary for the preparation of village schoolmasters, or any other zemstvo institution, they invariably invited me to accompany them, and made no attempt to conceal from me the defects which they happened to discover. i mention all this because it illustrates the readiness of most russians to afford every possible facility to a foreigner who wishes seriously to study their country. they believe that they have long been misunderstood and systematically calumniated by foreigners, and they are extremely desirous that the prevalent misconceptions regarding their country should be removed. it must be said to their honour that they have little or none of that false patriotism which seeks to conceal national defects; and in judging themselves and their institutions they are inclined to be over-severe rather than unduly lenient. in the time of nicholas i. those who desired to stand well with the government proclaimed loudly that they lived in the happiest and best-governed country of the world, but this shallow official optimism has long since gone out of fashion. during all the years which i spent in russia i found everywhere the utmost readiness to assist me in my investigations, and very rarely noticed that habit of "throwing dust in the eyes of foreigners," of which some writers have spoken so much. the zemstvo is a kind of local administration which supplements the action of the rural communes, and takes cognizance of those higher public wants which individual communes cannot possibly satisfy. its principal duties are to keep the roads and bridges in proper repair, to provide means of conveyance for the rural police and other officials, to look after primary education and sanitary affairs, to watch the state of the crops and take measures against approaching famine, and, in short, to undertake, within certain clearly defined limits, whatever seems likely to increase the material and moral well-being of the population. in form the institution is parliamentary--that is to say, it consists of an assembly of deputies which meets regularly once a year, and of a permanent executive bureau elected by the assembly from among its members. if the assembly be regarded as a local parliament, the bureau corresponds to the cabinet. in accordance with this analogy my friend the president was sometimes jocularly termed the prime minister. once every three years the deputies are elected in certain fixed proportions by the landed proprietors, the rural communes, and the municipal corporations. every province (guberniya) and each of the districts (uyezdi) into which the province is subdivided has such an assembly and such a bureau. not long after my arrival in novgorod i had the opportunity of being present at a district assembly. in the ball-room of the "club de la noblesse" i found thirty or forty men seated round a long table covered with green cloth. before each member lay sheets of paper for the purpose of taking notes, and before the president--the marshal of noblesse for the district--stood a small hand-bell, which he rang vigorously at the commencement of the proceedings and on all the occasions when he wished to obtain silence. to the right and left of the president sat the members of the executive bureau (uprava), armed with piles of written and printed documents, from which they read long and tedious extracts, till the majority of the audience took to yawning and one or two of the members positively went to sleep. at the close of each of these reports the president rang his bell--presumably for the purpose of awakening the sleepers--and inquired whether any one had remarks to make on what had just been read. generally some one had remarks to make, and not unfrequently a discussion ensued. when any decided difference of opinion appeared a vote was taken by handing round a sheet of paper, or by the simpler method of requesting the ayes to stand up and the noes to sit still. what surprised me most in this assembly was that it was composed partly of nobles and partly of peasants--the latter being decidedly in the majority--and that no trace of antagonism seemed to exist between the two classes. landed proprietors and their ci-devant serfs, emancipated only ten years before, evidently met for the moment on a footing of equality. the discussions were carried on chiefly by the nobles, but on more than one occasion peasant members rose to speak, and their remarks, always clear, practical, and to the point, were invariably listened to with respectful attention. instead of that violent antagonism which might have been expected, considering the constitution of the assembly, there was too much unanimity--a fact indicating plainly that the majority of the members did not take a very deep interest in the matters presented to them. this assembly was held in the month of september. at the beginning of december the assembly for the province met, and during nearly three weeks i was daily present at its deliberations. in general character and mode of procedure it resembled closely the district assembly. its chief peculiarities were that its members were chosen, not by the primary electors, but by the assemblies of the ten districts which compose the province, and that it took cognisance merely of those matters which concerned more than one district. besides this, the peasant deputies were very few in number--a fact which somewhat surprised me, because i was aware that, according to the law, the peasant members of the district assemblies were eligible, like those of the other classes. the explanation is that the district assemblies choose their most active members to represent them in the provincial assemblies, and consequently the choice generally falls on landed proprietors. to this arrangement the peasants make no objection, for attendance at the provincial assemblies demands a considerable pecuniary outlay, and payment to the deputies is expressly prohibited by law. to give the reader an idea of the elements composing this assembly, let me introduce him to a few of the members. a considerable section of them may be described in a single sentence. they are commonplace men, who have spent part of their youth in the public service as officers in the army, or officials in the civil administration, and have since retired to their estates, where they gain a modest competence by farming. some of them add to their agricultural revenue by acting as justices of the peace.* a few may be described more particularly. * that is no longer possible. the institution of justices elected and paid by the zemstvo was abolished in . you see there, for instance, that fine-looking old general in uniform, with the st. george's cross at his button-hole--an order given only for bravery in the field. that is prince suvorof, a grandson of the famous general. he has filled high posts in the administration without ever tarnishing his name by a dishonest or dishonourable action, and has spent a great part of his life at court without ceasing to be frank, generous, and truthful. though he has no intimate knowledge of current affairs, and sometimes gives way a little to drowsiness, his sympathies in disputed points are always on the right side, and when he gets to his feet he always speaks in a clear soldierlike fashion. the tall gaunt man, somewhat over middle age, who sits a little to the left is prince vassiltchikof. he too, has an historic name, but he cherishes above all things personal independence, and has consequently always kept aloof from the imperial administration and the court. the leisure thus acquired he has devoted to study, and he has produced several valuable works on political and social science. an enthusiastic but at the same time cool-headed abolitionist at the time of the emancipation, he has since constantly striven to ameliorate the condition of the peasantry by advocating the spread of primary education, the rural credit associations in the village, the preservation of the communal institutions, and numerous important reforms in the financial system. both of these gentlemen, it is said, generously gave to their peasants more land than they were obliged to give by the emancipation law. in the assembly prince vassiltchikof speaks frequently, and always commands attention; and in all important committees he is leading member. though a warm defender of the zemstvo institutions, he thinks that their activity ought to be confined to a comparatively narrow field, and he thereby differs from some of his colleagues, who are ready to embark in hazardous, not to say fanciful, schemes for developing the natural resources of the province. his neighbour, mr. p----, is one of the ablest and most energetic members of the assembly. he is president of the executive bureau in one of the districts, where he has founded many primary schools and created several rural credit associations on the model of those which bear the name of schultze delitsch in germany. mr. s----, who sits beside him, was for some years an arbiter between the proprietors and emancipated serfs, then a member of the provincial executive bureau, and is now director of a bank in st. petersburg. to the right and left of the president--who is marshal of noblesse for the province--sit the members of the bureau. the gentleman who reads the long reports is my friend "the prime minister," who began life as a cavalry officer, and after a few years of military service retired to his estate; he is an intelligent, able administrator, and a man of considerable literary culture. his colleague, who assists him in reading the reports, is a merchant, and director of the municipal bank. the next member is also a merchant, and in some respects the most remarkable man in the room. though born a serf, he is already, at middle age, an important personage in the russian commercial world. rumour says that he laid the foundation of his fortune by one day purchasing a copper cauldron in a village through which he was passing on his way to st. petersburg, where he hoped to gain a little money by the sale of some calves. in the course of a few years he amassed an enormous fortune; but cautious people think that he is too fond of hazardous speculations, and prophesy that he will end life as poor as he began it. all these men belong to what may be called the party of progress, which anxiously supports all proposals recognised as "liberal," and especially all measures likely to improve the condition of the peasantry. their chief opponent is that little man with close-cropped, bullet-shaped head and small piercing eyes, who may be called the leader of the opposition. he condemns many of the proposed schemes, on the ground that the province is already overtaxed, and that the expenditure ought to be reduced to the smallest possible figure. in the district assembly he preaches this doctrine with considerable success, for there the peasantry form the majority, and he knows how to use that terse, homely language, interspersed with proverbs, which has far more influence on the rustic mind than scientific principles and logical reasoning; but here, in provincial assembly, his following composes only a respectable minority, and he confines himself to a policy of obstruction. the zemstvo of novgorod had at that time the reputation of being one of the most enlightened and energetic, and i must say that the proceedings were conducted in a business-like, satisfactory way. the reports were carefully considered, and each article of the annual budget was submitted to minute scrutiny and criticism. in several of the provinces which i afterwards visited i found that affairs were conducted in a very different fashion: quorums were formed with extreme difficulty, and the proceedings, when they at last commenced, were treated as mere formalities and despatched as speedily as possible. the character of the assembly depends of course on the amount of interest taken in local public affairs. in some districts this interest is considerable; in others it is very near zero. the birth of this new institution was hailed with enthusiasm, and produced great expectations. at that time a large section of the russian educated classes had a simple, convenient criterion for institutions of all kinds. they assumed as a self-evident axiom that the excellence of an institution must always be in proportion to its "liberal" and democratic character. the question as to how far it might be appropriate to the existing conditions and to the character of the people, and as to whether it might not, though admirable in itself, be too expensive for the work to be performed, was little thought of. any organisation which rested on "the elective principle," and provided an arena for free public discussion, was sure to be well received, and these conditions were fulfilled by the zemstvo. the expectations excited were of various kinds. people who thought more of political than economic progress saw in the zemstvo the basis of boundless popular liberty. prince yassiltchikof, for example, though naturally of a phlegmatic temperament, became for a moment enthusiastic, and penned the following words: "with a daring unparalleled in the chronicles of the world, we have entered on the career of public life." if local self-government in england had, in spite of its aristocratic character, created and preserved political liberty, as had been proved by several learned germans, what might be expected from institutions so much more liberal and democratic? in england there had never been county parliaments, and the local administration had always been in the hands of the great land-owners; whilst in russia every district would have its elective assembly, in which the peasant would be on a level with the richest landed proprietors. people who were accustomed to think of social rather than political progress expected that they would soon see the country provided with good roads, safe bridges, numerous village schools, well-appointed hospitals, and all the other requisites of civilisation. agriculture would become more scientific, trade and industry would be rapidly developed, and the material, intellectual, and moral condition of the peasantry would be enormously improved. the listless apathy of provincial life and the hereditary indifference to local public affairs were now, it was thought, about to be dispelled; and in view of this change, patriotic mothers took their children to the annual assemblies in order to accustom them from their early years to take an interest in the public welfare. it is hardly necessary to say that these inordinate expectations were not realised. from the very beginning there had been a misunderstanding regarding the character and functions of the new institutions. during the short period of universal enthusiasm for reform the great officials had used incautiously some of the vague liberal phrases then in fashion, but they never seriously intended to confer on the child which they were bringing into the world a share in the general government of the country; and the rapid evaporation of their sentimental liberalism, which began as soon as they undertook practical reforms, made them less and less conciliatory. when the vigorous young child, therefore, showed a natural desire to go beyond the humble functions accorded to it, the stern parents proceeded to snub it and put it into its proper place. the first reprimand was administered publicly in the capital. the st. petersburg provincial assembly, having shown a desire to play a political part, was promptly closed by the minister of the interior, and some of the members were exiled for a time to their homes in the country. this warning produced merely a momentary effect. as the functions of the imperial administration and of the zemstvo had never been clearly defined, and as each was inclined to extend the sphere of its activity, friction became frequent. the zemstvo had the right, for example, to co-operate in the development of education, but as soon as it organised primary schools and seminaries it came into contact with the ministry of public instruction. in other departments similar conflicts occurred, and the tchinovniks came to suspect that the zemstvo had the ambition to play the part of a parliamentary opposition. this suspicion found formal expression in at least one secret official document, in which the writer declares that "the opposition has built itself firmly a nest in the zemstvo." now, if we mean to be just to both parties in this little family quarrel, we must admit that the zemstvo, as i shall explain in a future chapter, had ambitions of that kind, and it would have been better perhaps for the country at the present moment if it had been able to realise them. but this is a west-european idea. in russia there is, and can be, no such thing as "his majesty's opposition." to the russian official mind the three words seem to contain a logical contradiction. opposition to officials, even within the limits of the law, is equivalent to opposition to the autocratic power, of which they are the incarnate emanations; and opposition to what they consider the interests of autocracy comes within measurable distance of high treason. it was considered necessary, therefore, to curb and suppress the ambitious tendencies of the wayward child, and accordingly it was placed more and more under the tutelage of the provincial governors. to show how the change was effected, let me give an illustration. in the older arrangements the governor could suspend the action of the zemstvo only on the ground of its being illegal or ultra vires, and when there was an irreconcilable difference of opinion between the two parties the question was decided judicially by the senate; under the more recent arrangements his excellency can interpose his veto whenever he considers that a decision, though it may be perfectly legal, is not conducive to the public good, and differences of opinion are referred, not to the senate, but to the minister of the interior, who is always naturally disposed to support the views of his subordinate. in order to put an end to all this insubordination, count tolstoy, the reactionary minister of the interior, prepared a scheme of reorganisation in accordance with his anti-liberal views, but he died before he could carry it out, and a much milder reorganisation was adopted in the law of th ( th) june, . the principal changes introduced by that law were that the number of delegates in the assemblies was reduced by about a fourth, and the relative strength of the different social classes was altered. under the old law the noblesse had about per cent., and the peasantry about per cent, of the seats; by the new electoral arrangements the former have per cent, and the latter about . it does not necessarily follow, however, that the assemblies are more conservative or more subservient on that account. liberalism and insubordination are much more likely to be found among the nobles than among the peasants. in addition to all this, as there was an apprehension in the higher official spheres of st. petersburg that the opposition spirit of the zemstvo might find public expression in a printed form, the provincial governors received extensive rights of preventive censure with regard to the publication of the minutes of zemstvo assemblies and similar documents. what the bureaucracy, in its zeal to defend the integrity of the autocratic power, feared most of all was combination for a common purpose on the part of the zemstvos of different provinces. it vetoed, therefore, all such combinations, even for statistical purposes; and when it discovered, a few years ago, that leading members of the zemstvo from all parts of the country were holding private meetings in moscow for the ostensible purpose of discussing economic questions, it ordered them to return to their homes. even within its proper sphere, as defined by law, the zemstvo has not accomplished what was expected of it. the country has not been covered with a network of macadamised roads, and the bridges are by no means as safe as could be desired. village schools and infirmaries are still far below the requirements of the population. little or nothing has been done for the development of trade or manufactures; and the villages remain very much what they were under the old administration. meanwhile the local rates have been rising with alarming rapidity; and many people draw from all this the conclusion that the zemstvo is a worthless institution which has increased the taxation without conferring any corresponding benefit on the country. if we take as our criterion in judging the institution the exaggerated expectations at first entertained, we may feel inclined to agree with this conclusion, but this is merely tantamount to saying that the zemstvo has performed no miracles. russia is much poorer and much less densely populated than the more advanced nations which she takes as her model. to suppose that she could at once create for herself by means of an administrative reform all the conveniences which those more advanced nations enjoy, was as absurd as it would be to imagine that a poor man can at once construct a magnificent palace because he has received from a wealthy neighbour the necessary architectural plans. not only years but generations must pass before russia can assume the appearance of germany, france, or england. the metamorphosis may be accelerated or retarded by good government, but it could not be effected at once, even if the combined wisdom of all the philosophers and statesmen in europe were employed in legislating for the purpose. the zemstvo has, however, done much more than the majority of its critics admit. it fulfils tolerably well, without scandalous peculation and jobbery, its commonplace, every-day duties, and it has created a new and more equitable system of rating, by which landed proprietors and house-owners are made to bear their share of the public burdens. it has done a very great deal to provide medical aid and primary education for the common people, and it has improved wonderfully the condition of the hospitals, lunatic asylums, and other benevolent institutions committed to its charge. in its efforts to aid the peasantry it has helped to improve the native breeds of horses and cattle, and it has created a system of obligatory fire-insurance, together with means for preventing and extinguishing fires in the villages--a most important matter in a country where the peasants live in wooden houses and big fires are fearfully frequent. after neglecting for a good many years the essential question as to how the peasants' means of subsistence can be increased, it has latterly, as i have mentioned in a foregoing chapter, helped them to obtain improved agricultural implements and better seed, encouraged the formation of small credit associations and savings banks, and appointed agricultural inspectors to teach them how they may introduce modest improvements within their limited means.* at the same time, in many districts it has endeavoured to assist the home industries which are threatened with annihilation by the big factories, and whenever measures have been proposed for the benefit of the rural population, such as the lowering of the land-redemption payments and the creation of the peasant land bank, it has invariably given them its cordial support. * the amount expended for these objects in , the latest year for which i have statistical data, was about a million and a half of roubles, or, roughly speaking, , pounds, distributed under the following heads:-- . agricultural tuition , pounds. . experimental stations, museums, etc , . scientific agriculturists , . agricultural industries , . improving breeds of horses and cattle , ------- , pounds. if you ask a zealous member of the zemstvo why it has not done more he will probably tell you that it is because its activity has been constantly restricted and counteracted by the government. the assemblies were obliged to accept as presidents the marshals of noblesse, many of whom were men of antiquated ideas and retrograde principles. at every turn the more enlightened, more active members found themselves opposed, thwarted, and finally checkmated by the imperial officials. when a laudable attempt was made to tax trade and industry more equitably the scheme was vetoed, and consequently the mercantile class, sure of being always taxed at a ridiculously low maximum, have lost all interest in the proceedings. even with regard to the rating of landed and house property a low limit is imposed by the government, because it is afraid that if the rates were raised much it would not be able to collect the heavy imperial taxation. the uncontrolled publicity which was at first enjoyed by the assemblies was afterwards curtailed by the bureaucracy. under such restrictions all free, vigorous action became impossible, and the institutions failed to effect what was reasonably anticipated. all this is true in a certain sense, but it is not the whole truth. if we examine some of the definite charges brought against the institution we shall understand better its real character. the most common complaint made against it is that it has enormously increased the rates. on that point there is no possibility of dispute. at first its expenditure in the thirty-four provinces in which it existed was under six millions of roubles; in two years ( ) it had jumped up to fifteen millions; in it was nearly twenty-eight millions, in over forty-three millions, and at the end of the century it had attained the respectable figure of , , roubles. as each province had the right of taxing itself, the increase varied greatly in different provinces. in smolensk, for example, it was only about thirty per cent., whilst in samara it was , and in viatka, where the peasant element predominates, no less than , per cent.! in order to meet this increase, the rates on land rose from under ten millions in to over forty-seven millions in . no wonder that the landowners who find it difficult to work their estates at a profit should complain! though this increase is disagreeable to the rate-payers, it does not follow that it is excessive. in all countries rates and local taxation are on the increase, and it is in the backward countries that they increase most rapidly. in france, for example, the average yearly increase has been . per cent., while in austria it has been . . in russia it ought to have been more than in austria, whereas it has been, in the provinces with zemstvo institutions, only about per cent. in comparison with the imperial taxation the local does not seem excessive when compared with other countries. in england and prussia, for instance, the state taxation as compared with the local is as a hundred to fifty-four and fifty-one, whilst in russia it is as a hundred to sixteen.* a reduction in the taxation as a whole would certainly contribute to the material welfare of the rural population, but it is desirable that it should be made in the imperial taxes rather than in the rates, because the latter may be regarded as something akin to productive investments, whilst the proceeds of the former are expended largely on objects which have little or nothing to do with the wants of the common people. in speaking thus i am assuming that the local expenditure is made judiciously, and this is a matter on which, i am bound to confess, there is by no means unanimity of opinion. * these figures are taken from the best available authorities, chiefly schwanebach and scalon, but i am not prepared to guarantee their accuracy. hostile critics can point to facts which are, to say the least, strange and anomalous. out of the total of its revenue the zemstvo spends about twenty-eight per cent. under the heading of public health and benevolent institutions; and about fifteen per cent. for popular education, whilst it devotes only about six per cent. to roads and bridges, and until lately it neglected, as i have said above, the means for improving agriculture and directly increasing the income of the peasantry. before passing sentence with regard to these charges we must remember the circumstances in which the zemstvo was founded and has grown up. in the early times its members were well-meaning men who had had very little experience in administration or in practical life of any sort except the old routine in which they had previously vegetated. most of them had lived enough in the country to know how much the peasants were in need of medical assistance of the most elementary kind, and to this matter they at once turned their attention. they tried to organise a system of doctors, hospital assistants, and dispensaries by which the peasant would not have to go more than fifteen or twenty miles to get a wound dressed or to have a consultation or to obtain a simple remedy for ordinary ailments. they felt the necessity, too, of thoroughly reorganising the hospitals and the lunatic asylums, which were in a very unsatisfactory condition. plainly enough, there was here good work to be done. then there were the higher aims. in the absence of practical experience there were enthusiasms and theories. amongst these was the enthusiasm for education, and the theory that the want of it was the chief reason why russia had remained so far behind the nations of western europe. give us education, it was said, and all other good things will be added thereto. liberate the russian people from the bonds of ignorance as you have liberated it from the bonds of serfage, and its wonderful natural capacities will then be able to create everything that is required for its material, intellectual, and moral welfare. if there was any one among the leaders who took a more sober, prosaic view of things he was denounced as an ignoramus and a reactionary. willingly or unwillingly, everybody had to swim with the current. roads and bridges were not entirely neglected, but the efforts in that direction were confined to the absolutely indispensable. for such prosaic concerns there was no enthusiasm, and it was universally recognised that in russia the construction of good roads, as the term is understood in western europe, was far beyond the resources of any administration. of the necessity for such roads few were conscious. all that was required was to make it possible to get from one place to another in ordinary weather and ordinary circumstances. if a stream was too deep to be forded, a bridge had to be built or a ferry had to be established; and if the approach to a bridge was so marshy or muddy that vehicles often sank quite up to the axles and had to be dragged out by ropes, with the assistance of the neighbouring villagers, repairs had to be made. beyond this the efforts of the zemstvo rarely went. its road-building ambition remained within very modest bounds. as for the impoverishment of the peasantry and the necessity of improving their system of agriculture, that question had hardly appeared above the horizon. it might have to be dealt with in the future, but there was no need for hurry. once the rural population were educated, the question would solve itself. it was not till about the year that it was recognised to be more urgent than had been supposed, and some zemstvos perceived that the people might starve before its preparatory education was completed. repeated famines pushed the lesson home, and the landed proprietors found their revenues diminished by the fall in the price of grain on the european markets. thus was raised the cry: "agriculture in russia is on the decline! the country has entered on an acute economic crisis! if energetic measures be not taken promptly the people will soon find themselves confronted by starvation!" to this cry of alarm the zemstvo was neither deaf nor indifferent. recognising that the danger could be averted only by inducing the peasantry to adopt a more intensive system of agriculture, it directed more and more of its attention to agricultural improvements, and tried to get them adopted.* it did, in short, all it could, according to its lights and within the limits of its moderate resources. its available resources were small, unfortunately, for it was forbidden by the government to increase the rates, and it could not well dismiss doctors and close dispensaries and schools when the people were clamouring for more. so at least the defenders of the zemstvo maintain, and they go so far as to contend that it did well not to grapple with the impoverishment of the peasantry at an earlier period, when the real conditions of the problem and the means of solving it were only very imperfectly known: if it had begun at that time it would have made great blunders and spent much money to little purpose. * vide supra, p. . however this may be, it would certainly be unfair to condemn the zemstvo for not being greatly in advance of public opinion. if it endeavours strenuously to supply all clearly recognised wants, that is all that can reasonably be expected of it. what it may be more justly reproached with is, in my opinion, that it is, to a certain extent, imbued with that unpractical, pedantic spirit which is commonly supposed to reside exclusively in the imperial administration. but here again it simply reflects public opinion and certain intellectual peculiarities of the educated classes. when a russian begins to write on a simple everyday subject, he likes to connect it with general principles, philosophy, or history, and begins, perhaps, by expounding his views on the intellectual and social developments of humanity in general and of russia in particular. if he has sufficient space at his disposal he may even tell you something about the early period of russian history previous to the mongol invasion before he gets to the simple matter in hand. in a previous chapter i have described the process of "shedding on a subject the light of science" in imperial legislation.* in zemstvo activity we often meet with pedantry of a similar kind. * vide supra, p. . if this pedantry were confined to the writing of reports it might not do much harm. unfortunately, it often appears in the sphere of action. to illustrate this i take a recent instance from the province of nizhni-novgorod. the zemstvo of that province received from the central government in a certain amount of capital for road-improvement, with instructions from the ministry of interior that it should classify the roads according to their relative importance and improve them accordingly. any intelligent person well acquainted with the region might have made, in the course of a week or two, the required classification accurately enough for all practical purposes. instead of adopting this simple procedure, what does the zemstvo do? it chooses one of the eleven districts of which the province is composed and instructs its statistical department to describe all the villages with a view of determining the amount of traffic which each will probably contribute to the general movement, and then it verifies its a priori conclusions by means of a detachment of specially selected "registrars," posted at all the crossways during six days of each month. these registrars doubtless inscribed every peasant cart as it passed and made a rough estimate of the weight of its load. when this complicated and expensive procedure was completed for one district it was applied to another; but at the end of three years, before all the villages of this second district had been described and the traffic estimated, the energy of the statistical department seems to have flagged, and, like a young author impatient to see himself in print, it published a volume at the public expense which no one will ever read. the cost entailed by this procedure is not known, but we may form some idea of the amount of time required for the whole operation. it is a simple rule-of-three sum. if it took three years for the preparatory investigation of a district and a half, how many years will be required for eleven districts? more than twenty years! during that period it would seem that the roads are to remain as they are, and when the moment comes for improving them it will be found that, unless the province is condemned to economic stagnation, the "valuable statistical material" collected at such an expenditure of time and money is in great part antiquated and useless. the statistical department will be compelled, therefore, like another unfortunate sisyphus, to begin the work anew, and it is difficult to see how the zemstvo, unless it becomes a little more practical, is ever to get out of the vicious circle. in this case the evil result of pedantry was simply unnecessary delay, and in the meantime the capital was accumulating, unless the interest was entirely swallowed up by the statistical researches; but there are cases in which the consequences are more serious. let me take an illustration from the enlightened province of moscow. it was observed that certain villages were particularly unhealthy, and it was pointed out by a local doctor that the inhabitants were in the habit of using for domestic purposes the water of ponds which were in a filthy condition. what was evidently wanted was good wells, and a practical man would at once have taken measures to have them dug. not so the district zemstvo. it at once transformed the simple fact into a "question" requiring scientific investigation. a commission was appointed to study the problem, and after much deliberation it was decided to make a geological survey in order to ascertain the depth of good water throughout the district as a preparatory step towards preparing a project which will some day be discussed in the district assembly, and perhaps in the assembly of the province. whilst all this is being done according to the strict principles of bureaucratic procedure, the unfortunate peasants for whose benefit the investigation was undertaken continue to drink the muddy water of the dirty ponds. incidents of that kind, which i might multiply almost to any extent, remind one of the proverbial formalism of the chinese; but between chinese and russian pedantry there is an essential difference. in the middle kingdom the sacrifice of practical considerations proceeds from an exaggerated veneration of the wisdom of ancestors; in the empire of the tsars it is due to an exaggerated adoration of the goddess nauka (science) and a habit of appealing to abstract principles and scientific methods when only a little plain common-sense is required. on one occasion, i remember, in a district assembly of the province of riazan, when the subject of primary schools was being discussed, an influential member started up, and proposed that an obligatory system of education should at once be introduced throughout the whole district. strange to say, the motion was very nearly carried, though all the members present knew--or at least might have known if they had taken the trouble to inquire--that the actual number of schools would have to be multiplied twenty-fold, and all were agreed that the local rates must not be increased. to preserve his reputation for liberalism, the honourable member further proposed that, though the system should be obligatory, no fines, punishments, or other means of compulsion should be employed. how a system could be obligatory without using some means of compulsion, he did not condescend to explain. to get out of the difficulty one of his supporters suggested that the peasants who did not send their children to school should be excluded from serving as office-bearers in the communes; but this proposition merely created a laugh, for many deputies knew that the peasants would regard this supposed punishment as a valuable privilege. and whilst this discussion about the necessity of introducing an ideal system of obligatory education was being carried on, the street before the windows of the room was covered with a stratum of mud nearly two feet in depth! the other streets were in a similar condition; and a large number of the members always arrived late, because it was almost impossible to come on foot, and there was only one public conveyance in the town. many members had, fortunately, their private conveyances, but even in these locomotion was by no means easy. one day, in the principal thoroughfare, a member had his tarantass overturned, and he himself was thrown into the mud! it is hardly fair to compare the zemstvo with the older institutions of a similar kind in western europe, and especially with our own local self-government. our institutions have all grown out of real, practical wants keenly felt by a large section of the population. cautious and conservative in all that concerns the public welfare, we regard change as a necessary evil, and put off the evil day as long as possible, even when convinced that it must inevitably come. thus our administrative wants are always in advance of our means of satisfying them, and we use vigorously those means as soon as they are supplied. our method of supplying the means, too, is peculiar. instead of making a tabula rasa, and beginning from the foundations, we utilise to the utmost what we happen to possess, and add merely what is absolutely indispensable. metaphorically speaking, we repair and extend our political edifice according to the changing necessities of our mode of life, without paying much attention to abstract principles or the contingencies of the distant future. the building may be an aesthetic monstrosity, belonging to no recognised style of architecture, and built in defiance of the principles laid down by philosophical art critics, but it is well adapted to our requirements, and every hole and corner of it is sure to be utilised. very different has been the political history of russia during the last two centuries. it may be briefly described as a series of revolutions effected peaceably by the autocratic power. each young energetic sovereign has attempted to inaugurate a new epoch by thoroughly remodelling the administration according to the most approved foreign political philosophy of the time. institutions have not been allowed to grow spontaneously out of popular wants, but have been invented by bureaucratic theorists to satisfy wants of which the people were still unconscious. the administrative machine has therefore derived little or no motive force from the people, and has always been kept in motion by the unaided energy of the central government. under these circumstances it is not surprising that the repeated attempts of the government to lighten the burdens of centralised administration by creating organs of local self-government should not have been very successful. the zemstvo, it is true, offered better chances of success than any of its predecessors. a large portion of the nobles had become alive to the necessity of improving the administration, and the popular interest in public affairs was much greater than at any former period. hence there was at first a period of enthusiasm, during which great preparations were made for future activity, and not a little was actually effected. the institution had all the charm of novelty, and the members felt that the eyes of the public were upon them. for a time all went well, and the zemstvo was so well pleased with its own activity that the satirical journals compared it to narcissus admiring his image reflected in the pool. but when the charm of novelty had passed and the public turned its attention to other matters, the spasmodic energy evaporated, and many of the most active members looked about for more lucrative employment. such employment was easily found, for at that time there was an unusual demand for able, energetic, educated men. several branches of the civil service were being reorganised, and railways, banks, and joint-stock companies were being rapidly multiplied. with these the zemstvo had great difficulty in competing. it could not, like the imperial service, offer pensions, decorations, and prospects of promotion, nor could it pay such large salaries as the commercial and industrial enterprises. in consequence of all this, the quality of the executive bureaux deteriorated at the same time as the public interest in the institution diminished. to be just to the zemstvo, i must add that, with all its defects and errors, it is infinitely better than the institutions which it replaced. if we compare it with previous attempts to create local self-government, we must admit that the russians have made great progress in their political education. what its future may be i do not venture to predict. from its infancy it has had, as we have seen, the ambition to play a great political part, and at the beginning of the recent stirring times in st. petersburg its leading representatives in conclave assembled took upon themselves to express what they considered the national demand for liberal representative institutions. the desire, which had previously from time to time been expressed timidly and vaguely in loyal addresses to the tsar, that a central zemstvo assembly, bearing the ancient title of zemski sobor, should be convoked in the capital and endowed with political functions, was now put forward by the representatives in plain unvarnished form. whether this desire is destined to be realised time will show. chapter xxxiii the new law courts judicial procedure in the olden times--defects and abuses--radical reform--the new system--justices of the peace and monthly sessions--the regular tribunals--court of revision--modification of the original plan--how does the system work?--rapid acclimatisation--the bench--the jury--acquittal of criminals who confess their crimes--peasants, merchants, and nobles as jurymen--independence and political significance of the new courts. after serf-emancipation and local self-government, the subject which demanded most urgently the attention of reformers was the judicial organisation, which had sunk to a depth of inefficiency and corruption difficult to describe. in early times the dispensation of justice in russia, as in other states of a primitive type, had a thoroughly popular character. the state was still in its infancy, and the duty of defending the person, the property, and the rights of individuals lay, of necessity, chiefly on the individuals themselves. self-help formed the basis of the judicial procedure, and the state merely assisted the individual to protect his rights and to avenge himself on those who voluntarily infringed them. by the rapid development of the autocratic power all this was changed. autocracy endeavoured to drive and regulate the social machine by its own unaided force, and regarded with suspicion and jealousy all spontaneous action in the people. the dispensation of justice was accordingly appropriated by the central authority, absorbed into the administration, and withdrawn from public control. themis retired from the market-place, shut herself up in a dark room from which the contending parties and the public gaze were rigorously excluded, surrounded herself with secretaries and scribes who put the rights and claims of the litigants into whatever form they thought proper, weighed according to her own judgment the arguments presented to her by her own servants, and came forth from her seclusion merely to present a ready-made decision or to punish the accused whom she considered guilty. this change, though perhaps to some extent necessary, was attended with very bad consequences. freed from the control of the contending parties and of the public, the courts acted as uncontrolled human nature generally does. injustice, extortion, bribery, and corruption assumed gigantic proportions, and against these evils the government found no better remedy than a system of complicated formalities and ingenious checks. the judicial functionaries were hedged in by a multitude of regulations, so numerous and complicated that it seemed impossible for even the most unjust judge to swerve from the path of uprightness. explicit, minute rules were laid down for investigating facts and weighing evidence; every scrap of evidence and every legal ground on which the decision was based were committed to writing; every act in the complicated process of coming to a decision was made the subject of a formal document, and duly entered in various registers; every document and register had to be signed and countersigned by various officials who were supposed to control each other; every decision might be carried to a higher court and made to pass a second time through the bureaucratic machine. in a word, the legislature introduced a system of formal written procedure of the most complicated kind, in the belief that by this means mistakes and dishonesty would be rendered impossible. it may be reasonably doubted whether this system of judicial administration can anywhere give satisfactory results. it is everywhere found by experience that in tribunals from which the healthy atmosphere of publicity is excluded justice languishes, and a great many ugly plants shoot up with wonderful vitality. languid indifference, an indiscriminating spirit of routine, and unblushing dishonesty invariably creep in through the little chinks and crevices of the barrier raised against them, and no method of hermetically sealing these chinks and crevices has yet been invented. the attempt to close them up by increasing the formalities and multiplying the courts of appeal and revision merely adds to the tediousness of the procedure, and withdraws the whole process still more completely from public control. at the same time the absence of free discussion between the contending parties renders the task of the judge enormously difficult. if the system is to succeed at all, it must provide a body of able, intelligent, thoroughly-trained jurists, and must place them beyond the reach of bribery and other forms of corruption. in russia neither of these conditions was fulfilled. instead of endeavouring to create a body of well-trained jurists, the government went further and further in the direction of letting the judges be chosen for a short period by popular election from among men who had never received a juridical education, or a fair education of any kind; whilst the place of judge was so poorly paid, and stood so low in public estimation, that the temptations to dishonesty were difficult to resist. the practice of choosing the judges by popular election was an attempt to restore to the courts something of their old popular character; but it did not succeed, for very obvious reasons. popular election in a judicial organisation is useful only when the courts are public and the procedure simple; on the contrary, it is positively prejudicial when the procedure is in writing and extremely complicated. and so it proved in russia. the elected judges, unprepared for their work, and liable to be changed at short intervals, rarely acquired a knowledge of law or procedure. they were for the most part poor, indolent landed proprietors, who did little more than sign the decisions prepared for them by the permanent officials. even when a judge happened to have some legal knowledge he found small scope for its application, for he rarely, if ever, examined personally the materials out of which a decision was to be elaborated. the whole of the preliminary work, which was in reality the most important, was performed by minor officials under the direction of the secretary of the court. in criminal cases, for instance, the secretary examined the written evidence--all evidence was taken down in writing--extracted what he considered the essential points, arranged them as he thought proper, quoted the laws which ought in his opinion to be applied, put all this into a report, and read the report to the judges. of course the judges, if they had no personal interest in the decision, accepted the secretary's view of the case. if they did not, all the preliminary work had to be done anew by themselves--a task that few judges were able, and still fewer willing, to perform. thus the decision lay virtually in the hands of the secretary and the minor officials, and in general neither the secretary nor the minor officials were fit persons to have such power. there is no need to detail here the ingenious expedients by which they increased their meagre salaries, and how they generally contrived to extract money from both parties.* suffice it to say that in general the chancelleries of the courts were dens of pettifogging rascality, and the habitual, unblushing bribery had a negative as well as a positive effect. if a person accused of some crime had no money wherewith to grease the palm of the secretary he might remain in prison for years without being brought to trial. a well-known russian writer still living relates that when visiting a prison in the province of nizhni-novgorod he found among the inmates undergoing preliminary arrest two peasant women, who were accused of setting fire to a hayrick to revenge themselves on a landed proprietor, a crime for which the legal punishment was from four to eight months' imprisonment. one of them had a son of seven years of age, and the other a son of twelve, both of whom had been born in the prison, and had lived there ever since among the criminals. such a long preliminary arrest caused no surprise or indignation among those who heard of it, because it was quite a common occurrence. every one knew that bribes were taken not only by the secretary and his scribes, but also by the judges, who were elected by the local noblesse from its own ranks. * old book-catalogues sometimes mention a play bearing the significant title, "the unheard-of wonder; or, the honest secretary" (neslykhannoe dyelo ili tchestny sekretar). i have never seen this curious production, but i have no doubt that it referred to the peculiarities of the old judicial procedure. with regard to the scale of punishments, notwithstanding some humanitarian principles in the legislation, they were very severe, and corporal punishment played amongst them a disagreeably prominent part. capital sentences were abolished as early as - , but castigation with the knout, which often ended fatally, continued until , when it was replaced by flogging in the civil administration, though retained for the military and for insubordinate convicts. for the non-privileged classes the knout or the lash supplemented nearly all punishments of a criminal kind. when a man was condemned, for example, to penal servitude, he received publicly from thirty to one hundred lashes, and was then branded on the forehead and cheeks with the letters k. a. t.--the first three letters of katorzhnik (convict). if he appealed he received his lashes all the same, and if his appeal was rejected by the senate he received some more castigation for having troubled unnecessarily the higher judicial authorities. for the military and insubordinate convicts there was a barbarous punishment called spitsruten, to the extent of , or , blows, which often ended in the death of the unfortunate. the use of torture in criminal investigations was formally abolished in , but if we may believe the testimony of a public prosecutor, it was occasionally used in moscow as late as . the defects and abuses of the old system were so flagrant that they became known even to the emperor nicholas i., and caused him momentary indignation, but he never attempted seriously to root them out. in , for example, he heard of some gross abuses in a tribunal not far from the winter palace, and ordered an investigation. baron korff, to whom the investigation was entrusted, brought to light what he called "a yawning abyss of all possible horrors, which have been accumulating for years," and his majesty, after reading the report, wrote upon it with his own hand: "unheard-of disgrace! the carelessness of the authority immediately concerned is incredible and unpardonable. i feel ashamed and sad that such disorder could exist almost under my eyes and remain unknown to me." unfortunately the outburst of imperial indignation did not last long enough to produce any desirable consequences. the only result was that one member of the tribunal was dismissed from the service, and the governor-general of st. petersburg had to resign, but the latter subsequently received an honorary reward, and the emperor remarked that he was himself to blame for having kept the governor-general so long at his post. when his majesty's habitual optimism happened to be troubled by incidents of this sort he probably consoled himself with remembering that he had ordered some preparatory work, by which the administration of justice might be improved, and this work was being diligently carried out in the legislative section of his own chancery by count bludof, one of the ablest russian lawyers of his time. unfortunately the existing state of things was not thereby improved, because the preparatory work was not of the kind that was wanted. on the assumption that any evil which might exist could be removed by improving the laws, count bludof devoted his efforts almost entirely to codification. in reality what was required was to change radically the organisation of the courts and the procedure, and above all to let in on their proceedings the cleansing atmosphere of publicity. this the emperor nicholas could not understand, and if he had understood it he could not have brought himself to adopt the appropriate remedies, because radical reform and control of officials by public opinion were his two pet bugbears. very different was his son and successor, alexander ii., in the first years of his reign. in his accession manifesto a prominent place was given to his desire that justice and mercy should reign in the courts of law. referring to these words in a later manifesto, he explained his wishes more fully as "the desire to establish in russia expeditious, just, merciful, impartial courts of justice for all our subjects; to raise the judicial authority; to give it the proper independence, and in general to implant in the people that respect for the law which ought to be the constant guide of all and every one from the highest to the lowest." these were not mere vain words. peremptory orders had been given that the great work should be undertaken without delay, and when the emancipation question was being discussed in the provincial committees, the council of state examined the question of judicial reform "from the historical, the theoretical, and the practical point of view," and came to the conclusion that the existing organisation must be completely transformed. the commission appointed to consider this important matter filed a lengthy indictment against the existing system, and pointed out no less than twenty-five radical defects. to remove these it proposed that the judicial organisation should be completely separated from all other branches of the administration; that the most ample publicity, with trial by jury in criminal cases, should be introduced into the tribunals; that justice of peace courts should be created for petty affairs; and that the procedure in the ordinary courts should be greatly simplified. these fundamental principles were published by imperial command on september th, --a year and a half after the publication of the emancipation manifesto--and on november th, , the new legislation founded on these principles received the imperial sanction. like most institutions erected on a tabula rasa, the new system is at once simple and symmetrical. as a whole, the architecture of the edifice is decidedly french, but here and there we may detect unmistakable symptoms of english influence. it is not, however, a servile copy of any older edifice; and it may be fairly said that, though every individual part has been fashioned according to a foreign model, the whole has a certain originality. the lower part of the building in its original form was composed of two great sections, distinct from, and independent of, each other--on the one hand the justice of peace courts, and on the other the regular tribunals. both sections contained an ordinary court and a court of appeal. the upper part of the building, covering equally both sections, was the senate as supreme court of revision (cour de cassation). the distinctive character of the two independent sections may be detected at a glance. the function of the justice of peace courts is to decide petty cases that involve no abstruse legal principles, and to settle, if possible by conciliation, those petty conflicts and disputes which arise naturally in the relations of everyday life; the function of the regular tribunals is to take cognisance of those graver affairs in which the fortune or honour of individuals or families is more or less implicated, or in which the public tranquillity is seriously endangered. the two kinds of courts were organised in accordance with these intended functions. in the former the procedure is simple and conciliatory, the jurisdiction is confined to cases of little importance, and the judges were at first chosen by popular election, generally from among the local inhabitants. in the latter there is more of "the pomp and majesty of the law." the procedure is more strict and formal, the jurisdiction is unlimited with regard to the importance of the cases, and the judges are trained jurists nominated by the emperor. the justice of peace courts received jurisdiction over all obligations and civil injuries in which the sum at stake was not more than roubles--about pounds--and all criminal affairs in which the legal punishment did not exceed roubles--about pounds--or one year of punishment. when any one had a complaint to make, he might go to the justice of the peace (mirovoi sudya) and explain the affair orally, or in writing, without observing any formalities; and if the complaint seemed well founded, the justice at once fixed a day for hearing the case, and gave the other party notice to appear at the appointed time. when the time appointed arrived, the affair was discussed publicly and orally, either by the parties themselves, or by any representatives whom they might appoint. if it was a civil suit, the justice began by proposing to the parties to terminate it at once by a compromise, and indicated what he considered a fair arrangement. many affairs were terminated in this simple way. if, however, either of the parties refused to consent to a compromise, the matter was fully discussed, and the justice gave a formal written decision, containing the grounds on which it was based. in criminal cases the amount of punishment was always determined by reference to a special criminal code. if the sum at issue exceeded thirty roubles--about pounds--or if the punishment exceeded a fine of fifteen roubles--about s.--or three days of arrest, an appeal might be made to the assembly of justices (mirovoi syezd). this is a point in which english rather than french institutions were taken as a model. according to the french system, all appeals from a juge de paix are made to the "tribunal d'arrondissement," and the justice of peace courts are thereby subordinated to the regular tribunals. according to the english system, certain cases may be carried on appeal from the justice of the peace to the quarter sessions. this latter principle was adopted and greatly developed by the russian legislation. the monthly sessions, composed of all the justices of the district (uyezd), considered appeals against the decisions of the individual justices. the procedure was simple and informal, as in the lower court, but an assistant of the procureur was always present. this functionary gave his opinion in some civil and in all criminal cases immediately after the debate, and the court took his opinion into consideration in framing its judgment. in the other great section of the judicial organisation--the regular tribunals--there are likewise ordinary courts and courts of appeal, called respectively "tribunaux d'arrondissement" (okruzhniye sudy) and "palais de justice" (sudebniya palaty). each ordinary court has jurisdiction over several districts (uyezdy), and the jurisdiction of each court of appeals comprehends several provinces. all civil cases are subject to appeal, however small the sum at stake may be, but criminal cases are decided finally by the lower court with the aid of a jury. thus in criminal affairs the "palais de justice" is not at all a court of appeal, but as no regular criminal prosecution can be raised without its formal consent, it controls in some measure the action of the lower courts. as the general reader cannot be supposed to take an interest in the details of civil procedure, i shall merely say on this subject that in both sections of the regular tribunals the cases are always tried by at least three judges, the sittings are public, and oral debates by officially recognised advocates form an important part of the proceedings. i venture, however, to speak a little more at length regarding the change which has been made in the criminal procedure--a subject that is less technical and more interesting for the uninitiated. down to the time of the recent judicial reforms the procedure in criminal cases was secret and inquisitorial. the accused had little opportunity of defending himself, but, on the other hand, the state took endless formal precautions against condemning the innocent. the practical consequence of this system was that an innocent man might remain for years in prison until the authorities convinced themselves of his innocence, whilst a clever criminal might indefinitely postpone his condemnation. in studying the history of criminal procedure in foreign countries, those who were entrusted with the task of preparing projects of reform found that nearly every country of europe had experienced the evils from which russia was suffering, and that one country after another had come to the conviction that the most efficient means of removing these evils was to replace the inquisitorial by litigious procedure, to give a fair field and no favour to the prosecutor and the accused, and allow them to fight out their battle with whatever legal weapons they might think fit. further, it was discovered that, according to the most competent foreign authorities, it was well in this modern form of judicial combat to leave the decision to a jury of respectable citizens. the steps which russia had to take were thus clearly marked out by the experience of other nations, and it was decided that they should be taken at once. the organs for the prosecution of supposed criminals were carefully separated from the judges on the one hand, and from the police on the other; oral discussions between the public prosecutor and the prisoner's counsel, together with oral examination and cross-questioning of witnesses, were introduced into the procedure; and the jury was made an essential factor in criminal trials. when a case, whether civil or criminal, has been decided in the regular tribunals, there is no possibility of appeal in the strict sense of the term, but an application may be made for a revision of the case on the ground of technical informality. to use the french terms, there cannot be appel, but there may be cassation. if there has been any omission or transgression of essential legal formalities, or if the court has overstepped the bounds of its legal authority, the injured party may make an application to have the case revised and tried again.* this is not, according to french juridical conceptions, an appeal. the court of revision** (cour de cassation) does not enter into the material facts of the case, but merely decides the question as to whether the essential formalities have been duly observed, and as to whether the law has been properly interpreted and applied; and if it be found on examination that there is some ground for invalidating the decision, it does not decide the case. according to the new russian system, the sole court of revision is the senate. * this is the procedure referred to by karl karl'itch, vide supra, p . ** i am quite aware that the term "court of revision" is equivocal, but i have no better term to propose, and i hope the above explanations will prevent confusion. the senate thus forms the regulator of the whole judicial system, but its action is merely regulative. it takes cognisance only of what is presented to it, and supplies to the machine no motive power. if any of the lower courts should work slowly or cease to work altogether, the senate might remain ignorant of the fact, and certainly could take no official notice of it. it was considered necessary, therefore, to supplement the spontaneous vitality of the lower courts, and for this purpose was created a special centralised judicial administration, at the head of which was placed the minister of justice. the minister is "procureur-general," and has subordinates in all the courts. the primary function of this administration is to preserve the force of the law, to detect and repair all infractions of judicial order, to defend the interests of the state and of those persons who are officially recognised as incapable of taking charge of their own affairs, and to act in criminal matters as public prosecutor. viewed as a whole, and from a little distance, this grand judicial edifice seems perfectly symmetrical, but a closer and more minute inspection brings to light unmistakable indications of a change of plan during the process of construction. though the work lasted only about half-a-dozen years, the style of the upper differs from the style of the lower parts, precisely as in those gothic cathedrals which grew up slowly during the course of centuries. and there is nothing here that need surprise us, for a considerable change took place in the opinions of the official world during that short period. the reform was conceived at a time of uncritical enthusiasm for advanced liberal ideas, of boundless faith in the dictates of science, of unquestioning reliance on public spirit, public control, and public honesty--a time in which it was believed that the public would spontaneously do everything necessary for the common weal, if it were only freed from the administrative swaddling-clothes in which it had been hitherto bound. still smarting from the severe regime of nicholas, men thought more about protecting the rights of the individual than about preserving public order, and under the influence of the socialistic ideas in vogue malefactors were regarded as the unfortunate, involuntary victims of social inequality and injustice. towards the end of the period in question all this had begun to change. many were beginning to perceive that liberty might easily turn to license, that the spontaneous public energy was largely expended in empty words, and that a certain amount of hierarchical discipline was necessary in order to keep the public administration in motion. it was found, therefore, in , that it was impossible to carry out to their ultimate consequences the general principles laid down and published in . even in those parts of the legislation which were actually put in force, it was found necessary to make modifications in an indirect, covert way. of these, one may be cited by way of illustration. in criminal inquiries were taken out of the hands of the police and transferred to juges d'instruction (sudebniye sledovateli), who were almost entirely independent of the public prosecutor, and could not be removed unless condemned for some legal transgression by a regular tribunal. this reform created at first much rejoicing and great expectations, because it raised a barrier against the tyranny of the police and against the arbitrary power of the higher officials. but very soon the defects of the system became apparent. many juges d'instruction, feeling themselves independent, and knowing that they would not be prosecuted except for some flagrantly illegal act, gave way to indolence, and spent their time in inactivity.* in such cases it was always difficult, and sometimes impossible, to procure a condemnation--for indolence must assume gigantic proportions in order to become a crime--and the minister had to adopt the practice of appointing, without imperial confirmation, temporary juges d'instruction whom he could remove at pleasure. * a flagrant case of this kind came under my own observation. it is unnecessary, however, to enter into these theoretical defects. the important question for the general public is: how do the institutions work in the local conditions in which they are placed? this is a question which has an interest not only for russians, but for all students of social science, for it tends to throw light on the difficult subject as to how far institutions may be successfully transplanted to a foreign soil. many thinkers hold, and not without reason, that no institution can work well unless it is the natural product of previous historical development. now we have here an opportunity of testing this theory by experience; we have even what bacon terms an experimentum crucis. this new judicial system is an artificial creation constructed in accordance with principles laid down by foreign jurists. all that the elaborators of the project said about developing old institutions was mere talk. in reality they made a tabula rasa of the existing organisation. if the introduction of public oral procedure and trial by jury was a return to ancient customs, it was a return to what had been long since forgotten by all except antiquarian specialists, and no serious attempt was made to develop what actually existed. one form, indeed, of oral procedure had been preserved in the code, but it had fallen completely into disuse, and seems to have been overlooked by the elaborators of the new system.* * i refer to the so-called sud po forme established by an ukaz of peter the great, in . i was much astonished when i accidentally stumbled upon it in the code. having in general little confidence in institutions which spring ready-made from the brains of autocratic legislators, i expected to find that this new judicial organisation, which looks so well on paper, was well-nigh worthless in reality. observation, however, has not confirmed my pessimistic expectations. on the contrary, i have found that these new institutions, though they have not yet had time to strike deep root, and are very far from being perfect even in the human sense of the term, work on the whole remarkably well, and have already conferred immense benefit on the country. in the course of a few years the justice of peace courts, which may perhaps be called the newest part of the new institutions, became thoroughly acclimatised, as if they had existed for generations. as soon as they were opened they became extremely popular. in moscow the authorities had calculated that under the new system the number of cases would be more than doubled, and that on an average each justice would have nearly a thousand cases brought before him in the course of the year. the reality far exceeded their expectations: each justice had on an average , cases. in st. petersburg and the other large towns the amount of work which the justices had to get through was equally great. to understand the popularity of the justice of peace courts, we must know something of the old police courts which they supplanted. the nobles, the military, and the small officials had always looked on the police with contempt, because their position secured them against interference, and the merchants acquired a similar immunity by submitting to blackmail, which often took the form of a fixed subsidy; but the lower classes in town and country stood, in fear of the humblest policeman, and did not dare to complain of him to his superiors. if two workmen brought their differences before a police court, instead of getting their case decided on grounds of equity, they were pretty sure to get scolded in language unfit for ears polite, or to receive still worse treatment. even among the higher officers of the force many became famous for their brutality. a gorodnitchi of the town of tcherkassy, for example, made for himself in this respect a considerable reputation. if any humble individual ventured to offer an objection to him, he had at once recourse to his fists, and any reference to the law put him into a state of frenzy. "the town," he was wont to say on such occasions, "has been entrusted to me by his majesty, and you dare to talk to me of the law? there is the law for you!"--the remark being accompanied with a blow. another officer of the same type, long resident in kief, had a somewhat different method of maintaining order. he habitually drove about the town with a cossack escort, and when any one of the lower classes had the misfortune to displease him, he ordered one of his cossacks to apply a little corporal punishment on the spot without any legal formalities. in the justice of peace courts things were conducted in a very different style. the justice, always scrupulously polite without distinction of persons, listened patiently to the complaint, tried to arrange the affairs amicably, and when his efforts failed, gave his decision at once according to law and common-sense. no attention was paid to rank or social position. a general who would not attend to the police regulations was fined like an ordinary workingman, and in a dispute between a great dignitary and a man of the people the two were treated in precisely the same way. no wonder such courts became popular among the masses; and their popularity was increased when it became known that the affairs were disposed of expeditiously, without unnecessary formalities and without any bribes or blackmail. many peasants regarded the justice as they had been wont to regard kindly proprietors of the old patriarchal type, and brought their griefs and sorrows to him in the hope that he would somehow alleviate them. often they submitted most intimate domestic and matrimonial concerns of which no court could possibly take cognisance, and sometimes they demanded the fulfilment of contracts which were in flagrant contradiction not only with the written law, but also with ordinary morality.* * many curious instances of this have come to my knowledge, but they are of such a kind that they cannot be quoted in a work intended for the general public. of course, the courts were not entirely without blemishes. in the matter, for example, of making no distinction of persons some of the early justices, in seeking to avoid scylla, came dangerously near to charybdis. imagining that their mission was to eradicate the conceptions and habits which had been created and fostered by serfage, they sometimes used their authority for giving lessons in philanthropic liberalism, and took a malicious delight in wounding the susceptibilities, and occasionally even the material interests, of those whom they regarded as enemies to the good cause. in disputes between master and servant, or between employer and workmen, the justice of this type considered it his duty to resist the tyranny of capital, and was apt to forget his official character of judge in his assumed character of social reformer. happily these aberrations on the part of the justices are already things of the past, but they helped to bring about a reaction, as we shall see presently. the extreme popularity of the justice of peace courts did not last very long. their history resembled that of the zemstvo and many other new institutions in russia--at first, enthusiasm and inordinate expectations; then consciousness of defects and practical inconveniences; and, lastly, in an influential section of the public, the pessimism of shattered illusions, accompanied by the adoption of a reactionary policy on the part of the government. the discontent appeared first among the so-called privileged classes. to people who had all their lives enjoyed great social consideration it seemed monstrous that they should be treated exactly in the same way as the muzhik; and when a general who was accustomed to be addressed as "your excellency," was accused of using abusive language to his cook, and found himself seated on the same bench with the menial, he naturally supposed that the end of all things was at hand; or perhaps a great civil official, who was accustomed to regard the police as created merely for the lower classes, suddenly found himself, to his inexpressible astonishment, fined for a contravention of police regulations! naturally the justices were accused of dangerous revolutionary tendencies, and when they happened to bring to light some injustice on the part of the tchinovnik they were severely condemned for undermining the prestige of the imperial authority. for a time the accusations provoked merely a smile or a caustic remark among the liberals, but about the middle of the eighties criticisms began to appear even in the liberal press. no very grave allegations were made, but defects in the system and miscarriages of justice were put forward and severely commented upon. occasionally it happened that a justice was indolent, or that at the sessions in a small country town it was impossible to form a quorum on the appointed day. overlooking the good features of the institution and the good services rendered by it, the critics began to propose partial reorganisation in the sense of greater control by central authorities. it was suggested, for example, that the president of sessions should be appointed by the government, that the justices should be subordinated to the regular tribunals, and that the principle of election by the zemstvo should be abolished. these complaints were not at all unwelcome to the government, because it had embarked on a reactionary policy, and in it suddenly granted to the critics a great deal more than they desired. in the rural districts of central russia the justices were replaced by the rural supervisors, of whom i have spoken in a previous chapter, and the part of their functions which could not well be entrusted to those new officials was transferred to judges of the regular courts. in some of the larger towns and in the rural districts of outlying provinces the justices were preserved, but instead of being elected by the zemstvo they were nominated by the government. the regular tribunals likewise became acclimatised in an incredibly short space of time. the first judges were not by any means profound jurists, and were too often deficient in that dispassionate calmness which we are accustomed to associate with the bench; but they were at least honest, educated men, and generally possessed a fair knowledge of the law. their defects were due to the fact that the demand for trained jurists far exceeded the supply, and the government was forced to nominate men who under ordinary circumstances would never have thought of presenting themselves as candidates. at the beginning of , in the "tribunaux d'arrondissement" which then existed, there were judges, of whom had never received a juridical education. even the presidents had not all passed through a school of law. of course the courts could not become thoroughly effective until all the judges were men who had received a good special education and had a practical acquaintance with judicial matters. this has now been effected, and the present generation of judges are better prepared and more capable than their predecessors. on the score of probity i have never heard any complaints. of all the judicial innovations, perhaps the most interesting is the jury. at the time of the reforms the introduction of the jury into the judicial organisation awakened among the educated classes a great amount of sentimental enthusiasm. the institution had the reputation of being "liberal," and was known to be approved of by the latest authorities in criminal jurisprudence. this was sufficient to insure it a favourable reception, and to excite most exaggerated expectations as to its beneficent influence. ten years of experience somewhat cooled this enthusiasm, and voices might be heard declaring that the introduction of the jury was a mistake. the russian people, it was held, was not yet ripe for such an institution, and numerous anecdotes were related in support of this opinion. one jury, for instance, was said to have returned a verdict of "not guilty with extenuating circumstances"; and another, being unable to come to a decision, was reported to have cast lots before an icon, and to have given a verdict in accordance with the result! besides this, juries often gave a verdict of "not guilty" when the accused made a full and formal confession to the court. how far the comic anecdotes are true i do not undertake to decide, but i venture to assert that such incidents, if they really occur, are too few to form the basis of a serious indictment. the fact, however, that juries often acquit prisoners who openly confess their crime is beyond all possibility of doubt. to most englishmen this fact will probably seem sufficient to prove that the introduction of the institution was at least premature, but before adopting this sweeping conclusion it will be well to examine the phenomenon a little more closely in connection with russian criminal procedure as a whole. in england the bench is allowed very great latitude in fixing the amount of punishment. the jury can therefore confine themselves to the question of fact and leave to the judge the appreciation of extenuating circumstances. in russia the position of the jury is different. the russian criminal law fixes minutely the punishment for each category of crimes, and leaves almost no latitude to the judge. the jury know that if they give a verdict of guilty, the prisoner will inevitably be punished according to the code. now the code, borrowed in great part from foreign legislation, is founded on conceptions very different from those of the russian people, and in many cases it attaches heavy penalties to acts which the ordinary russian is wont to regard as mere peccadilloes, or positively justifiable. even in those matters in which the code is in harmony with the popular morality, there are many exceptional cases in which summum jus is really summa injuria. suppose, for instance--as actually happened in a case which came under my notice--that a fire breaks out in a village, and that the village elder, driven out of patience by the apathy and laziness of some of his young fellow-villagers, oversteps the limits of his authority as defined by law, and accompanies his reproaches and exhortations with a few lusty blows. surely such a man is not guilty of a very heinous crime--certainly he is not in the opinion of the peasantry--and yet if he be prosecuted and convicted he inevitably falls into the jaws of an article of the code which condemns to transportation for a long term of years. in such cases what is the jury to do? in england they might safely give a verdict of guilty, and leave the judge to take into consideration all the extenuating circumstances; but in russia they cannot act in this way, for they know that the judge must condemn the prisoner according to the criminal code. there remains, therefore, but one issue out of the difficulty--a verdict of acquittal; and russian juries--to their honour be it said--generally adopt this alternative. thus the jury, in those cases in which it is most severely condemned, provides a corrective for the injustice of the criminal legislation. occasionally, it is true, they go a little too far in this direction and arrogate to themselves a right of pardon, but cases of that kind are, i believe, very rare. i know of only one well-authenticated instance. the prisoner had been proved guilty of a serious crime, but it happened to be the eve of a great religious festival, and the jury thought that in pardoning the prisoner and giving a verdict of acquittal they would be acting as good christians! the legislation regards, of course, this practice as an abuse, and has tried to prevent it by concealing as far as possible from the jury the punishment that awaits the accused if he be condemned. for this purpose it forbids the counsel for the prisoner to inform the jury what punishment is prescribed by the code for the crime in question. this ingenious device not only fails in its object, but has sometimes a directly opposite effect. not knowing what the punishment will be, and fearing that it may be out of all proportion to the crime, the jury sometimes acquit a criminal whom they would condemn if they knew what punishment would be inflicted. and when a jury is, as it were, entrapped, and finds that the punishment is more severe than it supposed, it can take its revenge in the succeeding cases. i know at least of one instance of this kind. a jury convicted a prisoner of an offence which it regarded as very trivial, but which in reality entailed, according to the code, seven years of penal servitude! so surprised and frightened were the jurymen by this unexpected consequence of their verdict, that they obstinately acquitted, in the face of the most convincing evidence, all the other prisoners brought before them. the most famous case of acquital when there was no conceivable doubt as to the guilt of the accused was that of vera zasulitch, who shot general trepof, prefect of st. petersburg; but the circumstances were so peculiar that they will hardly support any general conclusion. i happened to be present, and watched the proceedings closely. vera zasulitch, a young woman who had for some time taken part in the revolutionary movement, heard that a young revolutionist called bogoliubof, imprisoned in st. petersburg, had been flogged by orders of general trepof,* and though she did not know the victim personally she determined to avenge the indignity to which he had been subjected. with this intention she appeared at the prefecture, ostensibly for the purpose of presenting a petition, and when she found herself in the presence of the prefect she fired a revolver at him, wounding him seriously, but not mortally. at the trial the main facts were not disputed, and yet the jury brought in a verdict of not guilty. this unexpected result was due, i believe, partly to a desire to make a little political demonstration, and partly to a strong suspicion that the prison authorities, in carrying out the prefect's orders, had acted in summary fashion without observing the tedious formalities prescribed by the law. certainly one of the prison officials, when under cross-examination, made on me, and on the public generally, the impression that he was prevaricating in order to shield his superiors. * the reason alleged by general trepof for giving these orders was that, during a visit of inspection, bogoliubof had behaved disrespectfully towards him, and had thereby committed an infraction of prison discipline, for which the law prescribes the use of corporal punishment. at the close of the proceedings, which were dexterously conducted by counsel in such a way that, as the emperor is reported to have said, it was not vera zasulitch but general trepof who was being tried, an eminent russian journalist rushed up to me in a state of intense excitement and said: "is not this a great day for the cause of political freedom in russia?" i could not agree with him and i ventured to predict that neither of us would ever again see a political case tried publicly by jury in an ordinary court. the prediction has proved true. since that time political offenders have been tried by special tribunals without a jury or dealt with "by administrative procedure," that is to say, inquisitorially, without any regular trial. the defects, real and supposed, of the present system are commonly attributed to the predominance of the peasant element in the juries; and this opinion, founded on a priori reasoning, seems to many too evident to require verification. the peasantry are in many respects the most ignorant class, and therefore, it is assumed, they are least capable of weighing conflicting evidence. plain and conclusive as this reasoning seems, it is in my opinion erroneous. the peasants have, indeed, little education, but they have a large fund of plain common-sense; and experience proves--so at least i have been informed by many judges and public prosecutors--that, as a general rule, a peasant jury is more to be relied on than a jury drawn from the educated classes. it must be admitted, however, that a peasant jury has certain peculiarities, and it is not a little interesting to observe what those peculiarities are. in the first place, a jury composed of peasants generally acts in a somewhat patriarchal fashion, and does not always confine its attention to the evidence and the arguments adduced at the trial. the members form their judgment as men do in the affairs of ordinary life, and are sure to be greatly influenced by any jurors who happen to be personally acquainted with the prisoner. if several of the jurors know him to be a bad character, he has little chance of being acquitted, even though the chain of evidence against him should not be quite perfect. peasants cannot understand why a notorious scoundrel should be allowed to escape because a little link in the evidence is wanting, or because some little judicial formality has not been duly observed. indeed, their ideas of criminal procedure in general are extremely primitive. the communal method of dealing with malefactors is best in accordance with their conceptions of well-regulated society. the mir may, by a communal decree and without a formal trial, have any of its unruly members transported to siberia! this summary, informal mode of procedure seems to the peasants very satisfactory. they are at a loss to understand how a notorious culprit is allowed to "buy" an advocate to defend him, and are very insensible to the bought advocate's eloquence. to many of them, if i may trust to conversations which i have casually overheard in and around the courts, "buying an advocate" seems to be very much the same kind of operation as bribing a judge. in the second place, the peasants, when acting as jurors, are very severe with regard to crimes against property. in this they are instigated by the simple instinct of self-defence. they are, in fact, continually at the mercy of thieves and malefactors. they live in wooden houses easily set on fire; their stables might be broken into by a child; at night the village is guarded merely by an old man, who cannot be in more than one place at a time, and in the one place he is apt to go to sleep; a police officer is rarely seen, except when a crime has actually been committed. a few clever horse-stealers may ruin many families, and a fire-raiser, in his desire to avenge himself on an enemy, may reduce a whole village to destitution. these and similar considerations tend to make the peasants very severe against theft, robbery, and arson; and a public prosecutor who desires to obtain a conviction against a man charged with one of these crimes endeavours to have a jury in which the peasant class is largely represented. with regard to fraud in its various forms, the peasants are much more lenient, probably because the line of demarcation between honest and dishonest dealing in commercial affairs is not very clearly drawn in their minds. many, for instance, are convinced that trade cannot be successfully carried on without a little clever cheating; and hence cheating is regarded as a venial offence. if the money fraudulently acquired be restored to the owner, the crime is supposed to be completely condoned. thus when a volost elder appropriates the public money, and succeeds in repaying it before the case comes on for trial, he is invariably acquitted--and sometimes even re-elected! an equal leniency is generally shown by peasants towards crimes against the person, such as assaults, cruelty, and the like. this fact is easily explained. refined sensitiveness and a keen sympathy with physical suffering are the result of a certain amount of material well-being, together with a certain degree of intellectual and moral culture, and neither of these is yet possessed by the russian peasantry. any one who has had opportunities of frequently observing the peasants must have been often astonished by their indifference to suffering, both in their own persons and in the person of others. in a drunken brawl heads may be broken and wounds inflicted without any interference on the part of the spectators. if no fatal consequences ensue, the peasant does not think it necessary that official notice should be taken of the incident, and certainly does not consider that any of the combatants should be transported to siberia. slight wounds heal of their own accord without any serious loss to the sufferer, and therefore the man who inflicts them is not to be put on the same level as the criminal who reduces a family to beggary. this reasoning may, perhaps, shock people of sensitive nerves, but it undeniably contains a certain amount of plain, homely wisdom. of all kinds of cruelty, that which is perhaps most revolting to civilised mankind is the cruelty of the husband towards his wife; but to this crime the russian peasant shows especial leniency. he is still influenced by the old conceptions of the husband's rights, and by that low estimate of the weaker sex which finds expression in many popular proverbs. the peculiar moral conceptions reflected in these facts are evidently the result of external conditions, and not of any recondite ethnographical peculiarities, for they are not found among the merchants, who are nearly all of peasant origin. on the contrary, the merchants are more severe with regard to crimes against the person than with regard to crimes against property. the explanation of this is simple. the merchant has means of protecting his property, and if he should happen to suffer by theft, his fortune is not likely to be seriously affected by it. on the other hand, he has a certain sensitiveness with regard to such crimes as assault; for though he has commonly not much more intellectual and moral culture than the peasant, he is accustomed to comfort and material well-being, which naturally develop sensitiveness regarding physical pain. towards fraud the merchants are quite as lenient as the peasantry. this may, perhaps, seem strange, for fraudulent practices are sure in the long run to undermine trade. the russian merchants, however, have not yet arrived at this conception, and can point to many of the richest members of their class as a proof that fraudulent practices often create enormous fortunes. long ago samuel butler justly remarked that we damn the sins we have no mind to. as the external conditions have little or no influence on the religious conceptions of the merchants and the peasantry, the two classes are equally severe with regard to those acts which are regarded as crimes against the deity. hence acquittals in cases of sacrilege, blasphemy, and the like never occur unless the jury is in part composed of educated men. in their decisions, as in their ordinary modes of thought, the jurors drawn from the educated classes are little, if at all, affected by theological conceptions, but they are sometimes influenced in a not less unfortunate way by conceptions of a different order. it may happen, for instance, that a juror who had passed through one of the higher educational establishments has his own peculiar theory about the value of evidence, or he is profoundly impressed with the idea that it is better that a thousand guilty men should escape than that one innocent man should be punished, or he is imbued with sentimental pseudo-philanthropy, or he is convinced that punishments are useless because they neither cure the delinquent nor deter others from crime; in a word, he may have in some way or other lost his mental balance in that moral chaos through which russia is at present passing. in england, france, or germany such an individual would have little influence on his fellow-jurymen, for in these countries there are very few people who allow new paradoxical ideas to overturn their traditional notions and obscure their common-sense; but in russia, where even the elementary moral conceptions are singularly unstable and pliable, a man of this type may succeed in leading a jury. more than once i have heard men boast of having induced their fellow-jurymen to acquit every prisoner brought before them, not because they believed the prisoners to be innocent or the evidence to be insufficient, but because all punishments are useless and barbarous. one word in conclusion regarding the independence and political significance of the new courts. when the question of judicial reform was first publicly raised many people hoped that the new courts would receive complete autonomy and real independence, and would thus form a foundation for political liberty. these hopes, like so many illusions of that strange time, have not been realised. a large measure of autonomy and independence was indeed granted in theory. the law laid down the principle that no judge could be removed unless convicted of a definite crime, and that the courts should present candidates for all the vacant places on the bench; but these and similar rights have little practical significance. if the minister cannot depose a judge, he can deprive him of all possibility of receiving promotion, and he can easily force him in an indirect way to send in his resignation; and if the courts have still the right to present candidates for vacant places, the minister has also this right, and can, of course, always secure the nomination of his own candidate. by the influence of that centripetal force which exists in all centralised bureaucracies, the procureurs have become more important personages than the presidents of the courts. from the political point of view the question of the independence of the courts has not yet acquired much practical importance, because the government can always have political offenders tried by a special tribunal or can send them to siberia for an indefinite term of years without regular trial by the "administrative procedure" to which i have above referred. chapter xxxiv revolutionary nihilism and the reaction the reform-enthusiasm becomes unpractical and culminates in nihilism--nihilism, the distorted reflection of academic western socialism--russia well prepared for reception of ultra-socialist virus--social reorganisation according to latest results of science--positivist theory--leniency of press-censure--chief representatives of new movement--government becomes alarmed--repressive measures--reaction in the public--the term nihilist invented--the nihilist and his theory--further repressive measures--attitude of landed proprietors--foundation of a liberal party--liberalism checked by polish insurrection--practical reform continued--an attempt at regicide forms a turning-point of government's policy--change in educational system--decline of nihilism. the rapidly increasing enthusiasm for reform did not confine itself to practical measures such as the emancipation of the serfs, the creation of local self-government, and the thorough reorganisation of the law-courts and legal procedure. in the younger section of the educated classes, and especially among the students of the universities and technical colleges, it produced a feverish intellectual excitement and wild aspirations which culminated in what is commonly known as nihilism. in a preceding chapter i pointed out that during the last two centuries all the important intellectual movements in western europe have been reflected in russia, and that these reflections have generally been what may fairly be termed exaggerated and distorted reproductions of the originals.* roughly speaking, the nihilist movement in russia may be described as the exaggerated, distorted reflection of the earlier socialist movements of the west; but it has local peculiarities and local colouring which deserve attention. * see chapter xxvi. the russian educated classes had been well prepared by their past history for the reception and rapid development of the socialist virus. for a century and a half the country had been subjected to a series of drastic changes, administrative and social, by the energetic action of the autocratic power, with little spontaneous co-operation on the part of the people. in a nation with such a history, socialistic ideas naturally found favour, because all socialist systems until quite recent times were founded on the assumption that political and social progress must be the result not of slow natural development, but rather of philosophic speculation, legislative wisdom, and administrative energy. this assumption lay at the bottom of the reform enthusiasm in st. petersburg at the commencement of alexander ii.'s reign. russia might be radically transformed, it was thought, politically and socially, according to abstract scientific principles, in the space of a few years, and be thereby raised to the level of west-european civilisation, or even higher. the older nations had for centuries groped in darkness, or stumbled along in the faint light of practical experience, and consequently their progress had been slow and uncertain. for russia there was no necessity to follow such devious, unexplored paths. she ought to profit by the experience of her elder sisters, and avoid the errors into which they had fallen. nor was it difficult to ascertain what these errors were, because they had been discovered, examined and explained by the most eminent thinkers of france and england, and efficient remedies had been prescribed. russian reformers had merely to study and apply the conclusions at which these eminent authorities had arrived, and their task would be greatly facilitated by the fact that they could operate on virgin soil, untrammelled by the feudal traditions, religious superstitions, metaphysical conceptions, romantic illusions, aristocratic prejudices, and similar obstacles to social and political progress which existed in western europe. such was the extraordinary intellectual atmosphere in which the russian educated classes lived during the early years of the sixties. on the "men with aspirations," who had longed in vain for more light and more public activity under the obscurantist, repressive regime of the preceding reign, it had an intoxicating effect. the more excitable and sanguine amongst them now believed seriously that they had discovered a convenient short-cut to national prosperity, and that for russia a grandiose social and political millennium was at hand.* * i was not myself in st. petersburg at that period, but on arriving a few years afterwards i became intimately acquainted with men and women who had lived through it, and who still retained much of their early enthusiasm. in these circumstances it is not surprising that one of the most prominent characteristics of the time was a boundless, child-like faith in the so-called "latest results of science." infallible science was supposed to have found the solution of all political and social problems. what a reformer had to do--and who was not a would-be reformer in those days?--was merely to study the best authorities. their works had been long rigidly excluded by the press censure, but now that it was possible to obtain them, they were read with avidity. chief among the new, infallible prophets whose works were profoundly venerated was auguste comte, the inventor of positivism. in his classification of the sciences the crowning of the edifice was sociology, which taught how to organise human society on scientific principles. russia had merely to adopt the principles laid down and expounded at great length in the cours de philosophie positive. there comte explained that humanity had to pass through three stages of intellectual development--the religious, the metaphysical, and the positive--and that the most advanced nations, after spending centuries in the two first, were entering on the third. russia must endeavour, therefore, to get into the positive stage as quickly as possible, and there was reason to believe that, in consequence of certain ethnographical and historical peculiarities, she could make the transition more quickly than other nations. after comte's works, the book which found, for a time, most favour was buckle's "history of civilisation," which seemed to reduce history and progress to a matter of statistics, and which laid down the principle that progress is always in the inverse ratio of the influence of theological conceptions. this principle was regarded as of great practical importance, and the conclusion drawn from it was that rapid national progress was certain if only the influence of religion and theology could be destroyed. very popular, too, was john stuart mill, because he was "imbued with enthusiasm for humanity and female emancipation"; and in his tract on utilitarianism he showed that morality was simply the crystallised experience of many generations as to what was most conducive to the greatest good of the greatest number. the minor prophets of the time, among whom buchner occupied a prominent place, are too numerous to mention. strange to say, the newest and most advanced doctrines appeared regularly, under a very thin and transparent veil, in the st. petersburg daily press, and especially in the thick monthly magazines, which were as big as, or bigger than, our venerable quarterlies. the art of writing and reading "between the lines," not altogether unknown under the draconian regime of nicholas i., was now developed to such a marvellous extent that almost any thing could be written clearly enough to be understood by the initiated without calling for the thunderbolts of the press censors, which was now only intermittently severe. indeed, the press censors themselves were sometimes carried away by the reform enthusiasm. one of them long afterwards related to me that during "the mad time," as he called it, in the course of a single year he had received from his superiors no less than seventeen reprimands for passing objectionable articles without remark. the movement found its warmest partisans among the students and young literary men, but not a few grey-beards were to be found among the youthful apostles. all who read the periodical literature became more or less imbued with the new spirit; but it must be presumed that many of those who discoursed most eloquently had no clear idea of what they were talking about; for even at a later date, when the novices had had time to acquaint themselves with the doctrines they professed, i often encountered the most astounding ignorance. let me give one instance by way of illustration: a young gentleman who was in the habit of talking glibly about the necessity of scientifically reorganising human society, declared to me one day that not only sociology, but also biology should be taken into consideration. confessing my complete ignorance of the latter science, i requested him to enlighten me by giving me an instance of a biological principle which could be applied to social regeneration. he looked confused, and tried to ride out of the difficulty on vague general phrases; but i persistently kept him to the point, and maliciously suggested that as an alternative he might cite to me a biological principle which could not be used for such a purpose. again he failed, and it became evident to all present that of biology, about which he talked so often, he knew absolutely nothing but the name! after this i frequently employed the same pseudo-socratic method of discussion, and very often with a similar result. not one in fifty, perhaps, ever attempted to reduce the current hazy conceptions to a concrete form. the enthusiasm was not the less intense, however, on that account. at first the partisans of the movement seemed desirous of assisting, rather than of opposing or undermining the government, and so long as they merely talked academically about scientific principles and similar vague entities, the government felt no necessity for energetic interference; but as early as symptoms of a change in the character of the movement became apparent. a secret society of officers organised a small printing-press in the building of the headquarters staff and issued clandestinely three numbers of a periodical called the velikoruss (great russian), which advocated administrative reform, the convocation of a constituent assembly, and the emancipation of poland from russian rule. a few months later (april, ) a seditious proclamation appeared, professing to emanate from a central revolutionary committee, and declaring that the romanoffs must expiate with their blood the misery of the people. these symptoms of an underground revolutionary agitation caused alarm in the official world, and repressive measures were at once adopted. sunday schools for the working classes, reading-rooms, students' clubs, and similar institutions which might be used for purposes of revolutionary propaganda were closed; several trials for political offences took place; the most popular of the monthly periodicals (sovremennik) was suspended, and its editor, tchernishevski, arrested. there was nothing to show that tchernishevski was implicated in any treasonable designs, but he was undoubtedly the leader of a group of youthful writers whose aspirations went far beyond the intentions of the government, and it was thought desirable to counteract his influence by shutting him up in prison. here he wrote and published, with the permission of the authorities and the imprimatur of the press censure, a novel called "shto delat'?" ("what is to be done?"), which was regarded at first as a most harmless production, but which is now considered one of the most influential and baneful works in the whole range of nihilist literature. as a novel it had no pretensions to artistic merit, and in ordinary times it would have attracted little or no attention, but it put into concrete shape many of the vague socialist and communist notions that were at the moment floating about in the intellectual atmosphere, and it came to be looked upon by the young enthusiasts as a sort of informal manifesto of their new-born faith. it was divided into two parts; in the first was described a group of students living according to the new ideas in open defiance of traditional conventionalities, and in the second was depicted a village organised on the communistic principles recommended by fourier. the first was supposed to represent the dawn of the new era; the second, the goal to be ultimately attained. when the authorities discovered the mistake they had committed in allowing the book to be published, it was at once confiscated and withdrawn from circulation, whilst the author, after being tried by the senate, was exiled to northeastern siberia and kept there for nearly twenty years.* * tchernishevski was a man of encyclopaedic knowledge and specially conversant with political economy. according to the testimony of those who knew him intimately, he was one of the ablest and most sympathetic men of his generation. during his exile a bold attempt was made to rescue him, and very nearly succeeded. a daring youth, disguised as an officer of gendarmes and provided with forged official papers, reached the place where he was confined and procured his release, but the officer in charge had vague suspicions, and insisted on the two travellers being escorted to the next post-station by a couple of cossacks. the rescuer tried to get rid of the escort by means of his revolver, but he failed in the attempt, and the fugitives were arrested. in tchernishevski was transferred to the milder climate of astrakhan, and in he was allowed to return to his native town, saratof, where he died a few months afterwards. with the arrest and exile of tchernishevski the young would-be reformers were constrained to recognise that they had no chance of carrying the government with them in their endeavours to realise their patriotic aspirations. police supervision over the young generation was increased, and all kinds of association, whether for mutual instruction, mutual aid, or any other purpose, were discouraged or positively forbidden. and it was not merely in the mind of the police that suspicion was aroused. in the opinion of the great majority of moderate, respectable people the young enthusiasts were becoming discredited. the violently seditious proclamations with which they were supposed to sympathise, and a series of destructive fires in st. petersburg, erroneously attributed to them, frightened timid liberals and gave the reactionaries, who had hitherto remained silent, an opportunity of preaching their doctrines with telling effect. the celebrated novelist, turgeneif, long the idol of the young generation, had inadvertently in "fathers and children" invented the term nihilist, and it at once came to be applied as an opprobrious epithet, notwithstanding the efforts of pissaref, a popular writer of remarkable talent, to prove to the public that it ought to be regarded as a term of honour. pissaref's attempt at rehabilitation made no impression outside of his own small circle. according to popular opinion the nihilists were a band of fanatical young men and women, mostly medical students, who had determined to turn the world upside down and to introduce a new kind of social order, founded on the most advanced principles of social equality and communism. as a first step towards the great transformation they had reversed the traditional order of things in the matter of coiffure: the males allowed their hair to grow long, and the female adepts cut their hair short, adding occasionally the additional badge of blue spectacles. their unkempt appearance naturally shocked the aesthetic feelings of ordinary people, but to this they were indifferent. they had raised themselves above the level of popular notions, took no account of so-called public opinion, gloried in bohemianism, despised philistine respectability, and rather liked to scandalise old-fashioned people imbued with antiquated prejudices. this was the ridiculous side of the movement, but underneath the absurdities there was something serious. these young men and women, who were themselves terribly in earnest, were systematically hostile not only to accepted conventionalities in the matter of dress, but to all manner of shams, hypocrisy, and cant in the broad carlylean sense of those terms. to the "beautiful souls" of the older generation, who had habitually, in conversation and literature, shed pathetic tears over the defects of russian social and political organisation without ever moving a finger to correct them--especially the landed proprietors who talked and wrote about civilisation, culture, and justice while living comfortably on the revenues provided for them by their unfortunate serfs--these had the strongest aversion; and this naturally led them to condemn in strong language the worship of aesthetic culture. but here again they fell into exaggeration. professing extreme utilitarianism, they explained that the humble shoemaker who practises his craft diligently is, in the true sense, a greater man than a shakespeare, or a goethe, because humanity has more need of shoes than of dramas and poetry. such silly paradoxes provoked, of course, merely a smile of compassion; what alarmed the sensible, respectable "philistine" was the method of cleansing the augean stable recommended by these enthusiasts. having discovered in the course of their desultory reading that most of the ills that flesh is heir to proceed directly or indirectly from uncontrolled sexual passion and the lust of gain, they proposed to seal hermetically these two great sources of crime and misery by abolishing the old-fashioned institutions of marriage and private property. when society, they argued, should be so organised that all the healthy instincts of human nature could find complete and untrammelled satisfaction, there would be no motive or inducement for committing crimes or misdemeanours. for thousands of years humanity had been sailing on a wrong tack. the great law-givers of the world, religious and civil, in their ignorance of physical science and positivist methods, had created institutions, commonly known as law and morality, which were utterly unfitted to human nature, and then the magistrate and the moralist had endeavoured to compel or persuade men and women to conform to them, but their efforts had failed most signally. in vain the police had threatened and punished and the priests had preached and admonished. human nature had systematically and obstinately rebelled, and still rebels, against the unnatural constraint. it is time, therefore, to try a new system. instead of continuing, as has been done for thousands of years, to force men and women, as it were, into badly fitting, unelastic clothes which cause intense discomfort and prevent all healthy muscular action, why not adapt the costume to the anatomy and physiology of the human frame? then the clothes will no longer be rent, and those who wear them will be contented and happy. unfortunately for the progress of humanity there are serious obstacles in the way of this radical change of system. the absurd, antiquated and pernicious institutions and customs are supported by abstruse metaphysical reasons and enshrined in mystical romantic sentiment, and in this way they may still be preserved for generations unless the axe be laid to the root of the tree. now is the critical moment. russia must be made to rise at once from the metaphysical to the positivist stage of intellectual development; metaphysical reasoning and romantic sentiment must be rigorously discarded; and everything must be brought to the touchstone of naked practical utility. one might naturally suppose that men holding such opinions must be materialists of the grossest type--and, indeed, many of them gloried in the name of materialist and atheist--but such an inference would be erroneous. while denouncing metaphysics, they were themselves metaphysicians in so far as they were constantly juggling with abstract conceptions, and letting themselves be guided in their walk and conversation by a priori deductions; while ridiculing romanticism, they had romantic sentiment enough to make them sacrifice their time, their property, and sometimes even their life, to the attainment of an unrealisable ideal; and while congratulating themselves on having passed from the religious to the positivist stage of intellectual development, they frequently showed themselves animated with the spirit of the early martyrs! rarely have the strange inconsistencies of human nature been so strikingly exemplified as in these unpractical, anti-religious fanatics. in dealing with them i might easily, without very great exaggeration, produce a most amusing caricature, but i prefer describing them as they really were. a few years after the period here referred to i knew some of them intimately, and i must say that, without at all sharing or sympathising with their opinions, i could not help respecting them as honourable, upright, quixotic men and women who had made great sacrifices for their convictions. one of them whom i have specially in view at this moment suffered patiently for years from the utter shipwreck of his generous illusions, and when he could no longer hope to see the dawn of a brighter day, he ended by committing suicide. yet that man believed himself to be a realist, a materialist, and a utilitarian of the purest water, and habitually professed a scathing contempt for every form of romantic sentiment! in reality he was one of the best and most sympathetic men i have ever known. to return from this digression. so long as the subversive opinions were veiled in abstract language they raised misgivings in only a comparative small circle; but when school-teachers put them into a form suited to the juvenile mind, they were apt to produce startling effects. in a satirical novel of the time a little girl is represented as coming to her mother and saying, "little mamma! maria ivan'na (our new school-mistress) says there is no god and no tsar, and that it is wrong to marry!" whether such incidents actually occurred in real life, as several friends assured me, i am not prepared to say, but certainly people believed that they might occur in their own families, and that was quite sufficient to produce alarm even in the ranks of the liberals, to say nothing of the rapidly increasing army of the reactionaries. to illustrate the general uneasiness produced in st. petersburg, i may quote here a letter written in october, , by a man who occupied one of the highest positions in the administration. as he had the reputation of being an ultra-liberal who sympathised overmuch with young russia, we may assume that he did not take an exceptionally alarmist view of the situation. "you have not been long absent--merely a few months; but if you returned now, you would be astonished by the progress which the opposition, one might say the revolutionary party, has already made. the disorders in the university do not concern merely the students. i see in the affair the beginning of serious dangers for public tranquillity and the existing order of things. young people, without distinction of costume, uniform and origin, take part in the street demonstrations. besides the students of the university, there are the students of other institutions, and a mass of people who are students only in name. among these last are certain gentlemen in long beards and a number of revolutionnaires in crinoline, who are of all the most fanatical. blue collars--the distinguishing mark of the students' uniform--have become the signe de ralliement. almost all the professors and many officers take the part of the students. the newspaper critics openly defend their colleagues. mikhailof has been convicted of writing, printing and circulating one of the most violent proclamations that ever existed, under the heading, 'to the young generation!' among the students and the men of letters there is unquestionably an organised conspiracy, which has perhaps leaders outside the literary circle. . . . the police are powerless. they arrest any one they can lay hands on. about eighty people have already been sent to the fortress and examined, but all this leads to no practical result, because the revolutionary ideas have taken possession of all classes, all ages, all professions, and are publicly expressed in the streets, in the barracks, and in the ministries. i believe the police itself is carried away by them! what this will lead to, it is difficult to predict. i am very much afraid of some bloody catastrophe. even if it should not go to such a length immediately, the position of the government will be extremely difficult. its authority is shaken, and all are convinced that it is powerless, stupid and incapable. on that point there is the most perfect unanimity among all parties of all colours, even the most opposite. the most desperate 'planter'* agrees in that respect with the most desperate socialist. meanwhile those who have the direction of affairs do almost nothing and have no plan or definite aim in view. at present the emperor is not in the capital, and now, more than at any other time, there is complete anarchy in the absence of the master of the house. there is a great deal of bustle and talk, and all blame they know not whom."** * an epithet commonly applied, at the time of the emancipation, to the partisans of serfage and the defenders of the proprietors' rights. ** i found this interesting letter (which might have been written today) thirty years ago among the private papers of nicholas milutin, who played a leading part as an official in the reforms of the time. it was first published in an article on "secret societies in russia," which i contributed to the fortnightly review of st august, . the expected revolution did not take place, but timid people had no difficulty in perceiving signs of its approach. the press continued to disseminate, under a more or less disguised form, ideas which were considered dangerous. the kolokol, a russian revolutionary paper published in london by herzen and strictly prohibited by the press-censure, found its way in large quantities into the country, and, as is recorded in an earlier chapter, was read by thousands, including the higher officials and the emperor himself, who found it regularly on his writing-table, laid there by some unknown hand. in st. petersburg the arrest of tchernishevski and the suspension of his magazine, the contemporary, made the writers a little more cautious in their mode of expression, but the spirit of the articles remained unchanged. these energetic intolerant leaders of public opinion were novi homines not personally connected with the social strata in which moderate views and retrograde tenderness had begun to prevail. mostly sons of priests or of petty officials, they belonged to a recently created literary proletariat composed of young men with boundless aspirations and meagre national resources, who earned a precarious subsistence by journalism or by giving lessons in private families. living habitually in a world of theories and unrestrained by practical acquaintance with public life, they were ready, from the purest and most disinterested motives to destroy ruthlessly the existing order of things in order to realise their crude notions of social regeneration. their heated imagination showed them in the near future a new russia, composed of independent federated communes, without any bureaucracy or any central power--a happy land in which everybody virtuously and automatically fulfilled his public and private duties, and in which the policeman and all other embodiments of material constraint were wholly superfluous. governments are not easily converted to utopian schemes of that idyllic type, and it is not surprising that even a government with liberal humanitarian aspirations like that of alexander ii. should have become alarmed and should have attempted to stem the current. what is to be regretted is that the repressive measures adopted were a little too oriental in their character. scores of young students of both sexes--for the nihilist army included a strong female contingent--were secretly arrested and confined for months in unwholesome prisons, and many of them were finally exiled, without any regular trial, to distant provinces in european russia or to siberia. their exile, it is true, was not at all so terrible as is commonly supposed, because political exiles are not usually confined in prisons or compelled to labour in the mines, but are obliged merely to reside at a given place under police supervision. still, such punishment was severe enough for educated young men and women, especially when their lot was cast among a population composed exclusively of peasants and small shop-keepers or of siberian aborigines, and when there were no means of satisfying the most elementary intellectual wants. for those who had no private resources the punishment was particularly severe, because the government granted merely a miserable monthly pittance, hardly sufficient to purchase food of the coarsest kind, and there was rarely an opportunity of adding to the meagre official allowance by intellectual or manual labour. in all cases the treatment accorded to the exiles wounded their sense of justice and increased the existing discontent among their friends and acquaintances. instead of acting as a deterrent, the system produced a feeling of profound indignation, and ultimately transformed not a few sentimental dreamers into active conspirators. at first there was no conspiracy or regularly organised secret society and nothing of which the criminal law in western europe could have taken cognisance. students met in each other's rooms to discuss prohibited books on political and social science, and occasionally short essays on the subjects discussed were written in a revolutionary spirit by members of the coterie. this was called mutual instruction. between the various coteries or groups there were private personal relations, not only in the capital, but also in the provinces, so that manuscripts and printed papers could be transmitted from one group to another. from time to time the police captured these academic disquisitions, and made raids on the meetings of students who had come together merely for conversation and discussion; and the fresh arrests caused by these incidents increased the hostility to the government. in the letter above quoted it is said that the revolutionary ideas had taken possession of all classes, all ages, and all professions. this may have been true with regard to st. petersburg, but it could not have been said of the provinces. there the landed proprietors were in a very different frame of mind. they had to struggle with a multitude of urgent practical affairs which left them little time for idyllic dreaming about an imaginary millennium. their serfs had been emancipated, and what remained to them of their estates had to be reorganised on the basis of free labour. into the semi-chaotic state of things created by such far-reaching changes, legal and economic, they did not wish to see any more confusion introduced, and they did not at all feel that they could dispense with the central government and the policeman. on the contrary, the central government was urgently needed in order to obtain a little ready money wherewith to reorganise the estates in the new conditions, and the police organisation required to be strengthened in order to compel the emancipated serfs to fulfil their legal obligations. these men and their families were, therefore, much more conservative than the class commonly designated "the young generation," and they naturally sympathised with the "philistines" in st. petersburg, who had been alarmed by the exaggerations of the nihilists. even the landed proprietors, however, were not so entirely free from discontent and troublesome political aspirations as the government would have desired. they had not forgotten the autocratic and bureaucratic way in which the emancipation had been prepared, and their indignation had been only partially appeased by their being allowed to carry out the provisions of the law without much bureaucratic interference. so much for the discontent. as for the reform aspirations, they thought that, as a compensation for having consented to the liberation of their serfs and for having been expropriated from about a half of their land, they ought to receive extensive political rights, and be admitted, like the upper classes in western europe, to a fair share in the government of the country. unlike the fiery young nihilists of st. petersburg, they did not want to abolish or paralyse the central power; what they wanted was to co-operate with it loyally and to give their advice on important questions by means of representative institutions. they formed a constitutional group which exists still at the present day, as we shall see in the sequel, but which has never been allowed to develop into an organised political party. its aims were so moderate that its programme might have been used as a convenient safety-valve for the explosive forces which were steadily accumulating under the surface of society, but it never found favour in the official world. when some of its leading members ventured to hint in the press and in loyal addresses to the emperor that the government would do well to consult the country on important questions, their respectful suggestions were coldly received or bluntly rejected by the bureaucracy and the autocratic power. the more the revolutionary and constitutional groups sought to strengthen their position, the more pronounced became the reactionary tendencies in the official world, and these received in an immense impetus from the polish insurrection, with which the nihilists and even some of the liberals sympathised.* that ill-advised attempt on the part of the poles to recover their independence had a curious effect on russian public opinion. alexander ii., with the warm approval of the more liberal section of the educated classes, was in the course of creating for poland almost complete administrative autonomy under the viceroyalty of a russian grand duke; and the emperor's brother constantine was preparing to carry out the scheme in a generous spirit. soon it became evident that what the poles wanted was not administrative autonomy, but political independence, with the frontiers which existed before the first partition! trusting to the expected assistance of the western powers and the secret connivance of austria, they raised the standard of insurrection, and some trifling successes were magnified by the pro-polish press into important victories. as the news of the rising spread over russia, there was a moment of hesitation. those who had been for some years habitually extolling liberty and self-government as the normal conditions of progress, who had been sympathising warmly with every liberal movement, whether at home or abroad, and who had put forward a voluntary federation of independent communes as the ideal state organism, could not well frown on the political aspirations of the polish patriots. the liberal sentiment of that time was so extremely philosophical and cosmopolitan that it hardly distinguished between poles and russians, and liberty was supposed to be the birthright of every man and woman to whatever nationality they might happen to belong. but underneath these beautiful artificial clouds of cosmopolitan liberal sentiment lay the volcano of national patriotism, dormant for the moment, but by no means extinct. though the russians are in some respects the most cosmopolitan of european nations, they are at the same time capable of indulging in violent outbursts of patriotic fanaticism; and events in warsaw brought into hostile contact these two contradictory elements in the national character. the struggle was only momentary. ere long the patriotic feelings gained the upper hand and crushed all cosmopolitan sympathy with political freedom. the moscow gazette, the first of the papers to recover its mental equilibrium, thundered against the pseudo-liberal sentimentalism, which would, if unchecked, necessarily lead to the dismemberment of the empire, and its editor, katkoff, became for a time the most influential private individual in the country. a few, indeed, remained true to their convictions. herzen, for instance, wrote in the kolokol a glowing panegyric on two russian officers who had refused to fire on the insurgents; and here and there a good orthodox russian might be found who confessed that he was ashamed of muravieff's extreme severity in lithuania. but such men were few, and were commonly regarded as traitors, especially after the ill-advised diplomatic intervention of the western powers. even herzen, by his publicly expressed sympathy with the insurgents, lost entirely his popularity and influence among his fellow-countrymen. the great majority of the public thoroughly approved of the severe energetic measures adopted by the government, and when the insurrection was suppressed, men who had a few months previously spoken and written in magniloquent terms about humanitarian liberalism joined in the ovations offered to muravieff! at a great dinner given in his honour, that ruthless administrator of the old muscovite type, who had systematically opposed the emancipation of the serfs and had never concealed his contempt for the liberal ideas in fashion, could ironically express his satisfaction at seeing around him so many "new friends"!** this revulsion of public feeling gave the moscow slavophils an opportunity of again preaching their doctrine that the safety and prosperity of russia were to be found, not in the liberalism and constitutionalism of western europe, but in patriarchal autocracy, eastern orthodoxy, and other peculiarities of russian nationality. thus the reactionary tendencies gained ground; but alexander ii., while causing all political agitation to be repressed, did not at once abandon his policy of introducing radical reforms by means of the autocratic power. on the contrary, he gave orders that the preparatory work for creating local self-government and reorganising the law courts should be pushed on energetically. the important laws for the establishment of the zemstvo and for the great judicial reforms, which i have described in previous chapters, both date from the year . * the students of the st. petersburg university scandalised their more patriotic fellow-countrymen by making a pro-polish demonstration. ** in fairness to count muravieff i must say that he was not quite so black as he was painted in the polish and west-european press. he left an interesting autobiographical fragment relating to the history of this time, but it is not likely to be printed for some years. as an historical document it is valuable, but must be used with caution by the future historian. a copy of it was for some time in my possession, but i was bound by a promise not to make extracts. these and other reforms of a less important kind made no impression on the young irreconcilables. a small group of them, under the leadership of a certain ishutin, formed in moscow a small secret society, and conceived the design of assassinating the emperor, in the hope that his son and successor, who was erroneously supposed to be imbued with ultra-liberal ideas, might continue the work which his father had begun and had not the courage to complete. in april, , the attempt on the life of the emperor was made by a youth called karakozof as his majesty was leaving a public garden in st. petersburg, but the bullet happily missed its mark, and the culprit was executed. this incident formed a turning-point in the policy of the government. alexander ii. began to fear that he had gone too far, or, at least, too quickly, in his policy of radical reform. an imperial rescript announced that law, property, and religion were in danger, and that the government would lean on the noblesse and other conservative elements of society. the two periodicals which advocated the most advanced views (sovremennik and russkoye slovo) were suppressed permanently, and precautions were taken to prevent the annual assemblies of the zemstvo from giving public expression to the aspirations of the moderate liberals. a secret official inquiry showed that the revolutionary agitation proceeded in all cases from young men who were studying, or had recently studied, in the universities, the seminaries, or the technical schools, such as the medical academy and the agricultural institute. plainly, therefore, the system of education was at fault. the semi-military system of the time of nicholas had been supplanted by one in which discipline was reduced to a minimum and the study of natural science formed a prominent element. here it was thought, lay the chief root of the evil. englishmen may have some difficulty in imagining a possible connection between natural science and revolutionary agitation. to them the two things must seem wide as the poles asunder. surely mathematics, chemistry, physiology, and similar subjects have nothing to do with politics. when a young englishman takes to studying any branch of natural science he gets up his subject by means of lectures, text-books, and museums or laboratories, and when he has mastered it he probably puts his knowledge to some practical use. in russia it is otherwise. few students confine themselves to their speciality. the majority of them dislike the laborious work of mastering dry details, and, with the presumption which is often found in conjunction with youth and a smattering of knowledge, they aspire to become social reformers and imagine themselves specially qualified for such activity. but what, it may be asked, has social reform to do with natural science? i have already indicated the connection in the russian mind. though very few of the students of that time had ever read the voluminous works of auguste comte, they were all more or less imbued with the spirit of the positive philosophy, in which all the sciences are subsidiary to sociology, and social reorganisation is the ultimate object of scientific research. the imaginative positivist can see with prophetic eye humanity reorganised on strictly scientific principles. cool-headed people who have had a little experience of the world, if they ever indulge in such delightful dreams, recognise clearly that this ultimate goal of human intellectual activity, if it is ever to be reached, is still a long way off in the misty distance of the future; but the would-be social reformers among the russian students of the sixties were too young, too inexperienced, and too presumptuously self-confident to recognise this plain, simple truth. they felt that too much valuable time had been already lost, and they were madly impatient to begin the great work without further delay. as soon as they had acquired a smattering of chemistry, physiology, and biology they imagined themselves capable of reorganising human society from top to bottom, and when they had acquired this conviction they were of course unfitted for the patient, plodding study of details. to remedy these evils, count dimitri tolstoy, who was regarded as a pillar of conservatism, was appointed minister of public instruction, with the mission of protecting the young generation against pernicious ideas, and eradicating from the schools, colleges, and universities all revolutionary tendencies. he determined to introduce more discipline into all the educational establishments and to supplant to a certain extent the superficial study of natural science by the thorough study of the classics--that is to say, latin and greek. this scheme, which became known before it was actually put into execution, produced a storm of discontent in the young generation. discipline at that time was regarded as an antiquated and useless remnant of patriarchal tyranny, and young men who were impatient to take part in social reorganisation resented being treated as naughty schoolboys. to them it seemed that the latin grammar was an ingenious instrument for stultifying youthful intelligence, destroying intellectual development, and checking political progress. ingenious speculations about the possible organisation of the working classes and grandiose views of the future of humanity are so much more interesting and agreeable than the rules of latin syntax and the greek irregular verbs! count tolstoy could congratulate himself on the efficacy of his administration, for from the time of his appointment there was a lull in the political excitement. during three or four years there was only one political trial, and that an insignificant one; whereas there had been twenty between and , and all more or less important. i am not at all sure, however, that the educational reform which created much momentary irritation and discontent had anything to do with the improvement in the situation. in any case, there were other and more potent causes at work. the excitement was too intense to be long-lived, and the fashionable theories too fanciful to stand the wear and tear of everyday life. they evaporated, therefore, with amazing rapidity when the leaders of the movement had disappeared--tchernishevski and others by exile, and dobrolubof and pissaref by death--and when among the less prominent representatives of the younger generation many succumbed to the sobering influences of time and experience or drifted into lucrative professions. besides this, the reactionary currents were making themselves felt, especially since the attempt on the life of the emperor. so long as these had been confined to the official world they had not much affected the literature, except externally through the press-censure, but when they permeated the reading public their influence was much stronger. whatever the cause, there is no doubt that, in the last years of the sixties, there was a subsidence of excitement and enthusiasm and the peculiar intellectual phenomenon which had been nicknamed nihilism was supposed to be a thing of the past. in reality the movement of which nihilism was a prominent manifestation had merely lost something of its academic character and was entering on a new stage of development. chapter xxxv socialist propaganda, revolutionary agitation, and terrorism closer relations with western socialism--attempts to influence the masses--bakunin and lavroff--"going in among the people"--the missionaries of revolutionary socialism--distinction between propaganda and agitation--revolutionary pamphlets for the common people--aims and motives of the propagandists--failure of propaganda--energetic repression--fruitless attempts at agitation--proposal to combine with liberals--genesis of terrorism--my personal relations with the revolutionists--shadowers and shadowed--a series of terrorist crimes--a revolutionist congress--unsuccessful attempts to assassinate the tsar--ineffectual attempt at conciliation by loris melikof--assassination of alexander ii.--the executive committee shows itself unpractical--widespread indignation and severe repression--temporary collapse of the revolutionary movement--a new revolutionary movement in sight. count tolstoy's educational reform had one effect which was not anticipated: it brought the revolutionists into closer contact with western socialism. many students, finding their position in russia uncomfortable, determined to go abroad and continue their studies in foreign universities, where they would be free from the inconveniences of police supervision and press-censure. those of the female sex had an additional motive to emigrate, because they could not complete their studies in russia, but they had more difficulty in carrying out their intention, because parents naturally disliked the idea of their daughters going abroad to lead a bohemian life, and they very often obstinately refused to give their consent. in such cases the persistent daughter found herself in a dilemma. though she might run away from her family and possibly earn her own living, she could not cross the frontier without a passport, and without the parental sanction a passport could not be obtained. of course she might marry and get the consent of her husband, but most of the young ladies objected to the trammels of matrimony. occasionally the problem was solved by means of a fictitious marriage, and when a young man could not be found to co-operate voluntarily in the arrangement, the terrorist methods, which the revolutionists adopted a few years later for other purposes, might be employed. i have heard of at least one case in which an ardent female devotee of medical science threatened to shoot a student who was going abroad if he did not submit to the matrimonial ceremony and allow her to accompany him to the frontier as his official wife! strange as this story may seem, it contains nothing inherently improbable. at that time the energetic young ladies of the nihilist school were not to be diverted from their purpose by trifling obstacles. we shall meet some of them hereafter, displaying great courage and tenacity in revolutionary activity. one of them, for example, attempted to murder the prefect of st. petersburg; and another, a young person of considerable refinement and great personal charm, gave the signal for the assassination of alexander ii. and expiated her crime on the scaffold without the least sign of repentance. most of the studious emigres of both sexes went to zurich, where female students were admitted to the medical classes. here they made the acquaintance of noted socialists from various countries who had settled in switzerland, and being in search of panaceas for social regeneration, they naturally fell under their influence, at the same time they read with avidity the works of proudhon, lassalle, buchner, marx, flerovski, pfeiffer, and other writers of "advanced opinions." among the apostles of socialism living at that time in switzerland they found a sympathetic fellow-countryman in the famous anarchist, bakunin, who had succeeded in escaping from siberia. his ideal was the immediate overthrow of all existing governments, the destruction of all administrative organisation, the abolition of all bourgeois institutions, and the establishment of an entirely new order of things on the basis of a free federation of productive communes, in which all the land should be distributed among those capable of tilling it and the instruments of production confided to co-operative associations. efforts to obtain mere political reforms, even of the most radical type, were regarded by him with contempt as miserable palliatives, which could be of no real, permanent benefit to the masses, and might be positively injurious by prolonging the present era of bourgeois domination. for the dissemination of these principles a special organ called the cause of the people (narodnoye dyelo) was founded in geneva in and was smuggled across the russian frontier in considerable quantities. it aimed at drawing away the young generation from academic nihilism to more practical revolutionary activity, but it evidently remained to some extent under the old influences, for it indulged occasionally in very abstract philosophical disquisitions. in its first number, for example, it published a programme in which the editors thought it necessary to declare that they were materialists and atheists, because the belief in god and a future life, as well as every other kind of idealism, demoralises the people, inspiring it with mutually contradictory aspirations, and thereby depriving it of the energy necessary for the conquest of its natural rights in this world, and the complete organisation of a free and happy life. at the end of two years this organ for moralising the people collapsed from want of funds, but other periodicals and pamphlets were printed, and the clandestine relations between the exiles in switzerland and their friends in st. petersburg were maintained without difficulty, notwithstanding the efforts of the police to cut the connection. in this way young russia became more and more saturated with the extreme socialist theories current in western europe. thanks partly to this foreign influence and partly to their own practical experience, the would-be reformers who remained at home came to understand that academic talking and discussing could bring about no serious results. students alone, however numerous and however devoted to the cause, could not hope to overthrow or coerce the government. it was childish to suppose that the walls of the autocratic jericho would fall by the blasts of academic trumpets. attempts at revolution could not be successful without the active support of the people, and consequently the revolutionary agitation must be extended to the masses. so far there was complete agreement among the revolutionists, but with regard to the modus operandi emphatic differences of opinion appeared. those who were carried away by the stirring accents of bakunin imagined that if the masses could only be made to feel themselves the victims of administrative and economic oppression, they would rise and free themselves by a united effort. according to this view all that was required was that popular discontent should be excited and that precautions should be taken to ensure that the explosions of discontent should take place simultaneously all over the country. the rest might safely be left, it was thought, to the operation of natural forces and the inspiration of the moment. against this dangerous illusion warning voices were raised. lavroff, for example, while agreeing with bakunin that mere political reforms were of little or no value, and that any genuine improvement in the condition of the working classes could proceed only from economic and social reorganisation, maintained stoutly that the revolution, to be permanent and beneficial, must be accomplished, not by demagogues directing the ignorant masses, but by the people as a whole, after it had been enlightened and instructed as to its true interests. the preparatory work would necessarily require a whole generation of educated propagandists, living among the labouring population rural and urban. for some time there was a conflict between these two currents of opinion, but the views of lavroff, which were simply a practical development of academic nihilism, gained far more adherents than the violent anarchical proposals of bakunin, and finally the grandiose scheme of realising gradually the socialist ideal by indoctrinating the masses was adopted with enthusiasm. in st. petersburg, moscow and other large towns the student association for mutual instruction, to which i have referred in the foregoing chapter, became centres of popular propaganda, and the academic nihilists were transformed into active missionaries. scores of male and female students, impatient to convert the masses to the gospel of freedom and terrestrial felicity, sought to get into touch with the common people by settling in the villages as school-teachers, medical practitioners, midwives, etc., or by working as common factory hands in the industrial centres. in order to obtain employment in the factories and conceal their real purpose, they procured false passports, in which they were described as belonging to the lower classes; and even those who settled in the villages lived generally under assumed names. thus was formed a class of professional revolutionists, sometimes called the illegals, who were liable to be arrested at any moment by the police. as compensation for the privations and hardships which they had to endure, they had the consolation of believing that they were advancing the good cause. the means they usually employed were formal conversations and pamphlets expressly written for the purpose. the more enthusiastic and persevering of these missionaries would continue their efforts for months and years, remaining in communication with the headquarters in the capital or some provincial town in order to report progress, obtain a fresh supply of pamphlets, and get their forged passports renewed. this extraordinary movement was called "going in among the people," and it spread among the young generation like an epidemic. in it was suddenly reinforced by a detachment of fresh recruits. over a hundred russian students were recalled by the government from switzerland, in order to save them from the baneful influence of bakunin, lavroff, and other noted socialists, and a large proportion of them joined the ranks of the propagandists.* * instances of going in among the people had happened as early as , but they did not become frequent till after . with regard to the aims and methods of the propagandists, a good deal of information was obtained in the course of a judicial inquiry instituted in . a peasant, who was at the same time a factory worker, informed the police that certain persons were distributing revolutionary pamphlets among the factory-hands, and as a proof of what he said he produced some pamphlets which he had himself received. this led to an investigation, which showed that a number of young men and women, evidently belonging to the educated classes, were disseminating revolutionary ideas by means of pamphlets and conversation. arrests followed, and it was soon discovered that these agitators belonged to a large secret association, which had its centre in moscow and local branches in ivanovo, tula, and kief. in ivanovo, for instance--a manufacturing town about a hundred miles to the northeast of moscow--the police found a small apartment inhabited by three young men and four young women, all of whom, though belonging by birth to the educated classes, had the appearance of ordinary factory workers, prepared their own food, did with their own hands all the domestic work, and sought to avoid everything which could distinguish them from the labouring population. in the apartment were found copies of revolutionary pamphlets, a considerable sum of money, a large amount of correspondence in cypher, and several forged passports. how many persons the society contained, it is impossible to say, because a large portion of them eluded the vigilance of the police; but many were arrested, and ultimately forty-seven were condemned. of these, eleven were noble, seven were sons of parish priests, and the remainder belong to the lower classes--that is to say, the small officials, burghers, and peasants. the average age of the prisoners was twenty-four, the oldest being thirty-six and the youngest under seventeen! only five or six were over twenty-five, and none of these were ringleaders. the female element was represented by no less than fifteen young persons, whose ages were on an average under twenty-two. two of these, to judge by their photographs, were of refined, prepossessing appearance, and seemingly little fitted for taking part in wholesale massacres such as the society talked of organising. the character and aims of the society were clearly depicted in the documentary and oral evidence produced at the trial. according to the fundamental principles, there should exist among the members absolute equality, complete mutual responsibility and full frankness and confidence with regard to the affairs of the association. among the conditions of admission we find that the candidate should devote himself entirely to revolutionary activity; that he should be ready to sever all ties, whether of friendship or of love, for the good cause; that he should possess great powers of self-sacrifice and the capacity for keeping secrets; and that he should consent to become, when necessary, a common labourer in a factory. the desire to maintain absolute equality is well illustrated by the article of the statutes regarding the administration: the office-bearers are not to be chosen by election, but all members are to be office-bearers in turn, and the term of office must not exceed one month! the avowed aim of the society was to destroy the existing social order, and to replace it by one in which there should be no private property and no distinctions of class or wealth; or, as it is expressed in one document, "to found on the ruins of the present social organisation the empire of the working classes." the means to be employed were indicated in a general way, but each member was to adapt himself to circumstances and was to devote all his energy to forwarding the cause of the revolution. for the guidance of the inexperienced, the following means were recommended: simple conversations, dissemination of pamphlets, the exciting of discontent, the formation of organised groups, the creation of funds and libraries. these, taken together, constitute, in the terminology of revolutionary science, "propaganda," and in addition to it there should be "agitation." the technical distinction between these two processes is that propaganda has a purely preparatory character, and aims merely at enlightening the masses regarding the true nature of the revolutionary cause, whereas agitation aims at exciting an individual or a group to acts which are considered, in the existing regime, as illegal. in time of peace "pure agitation" was to be carried on by means of organised bands which should frighten the government and the privileged classes, draw away the attention of the authorities from less overt kinds of revolutionary action, raise the spirit of the people and thereby render it more accessible to revolutionary ideas, obtain pecuniary means for further activity, and liberate political prisoners. in time of insurrection the members should give to all movements every assistance in their power, and impress on them a socialistic character. the central administration and the local branches should establish relations with publishers, and take steps to secure a regular supply of prohibited books from abroad. such are a few characteristic extracts from a document which might fairly be called a treatise on revolutionology. as a specimen of the revolutionary pamphlets circulated by the propagandists and agitators i may give here a brief account of one which is well known to the political police. it is entitled khitraya mekhanika (cunning machinery), and gives a graphic picture of the ideas and methods employed. the mise en scene is extremely simple. two peasants, stepan and andrei, are represented as meeting in a gin-shop and drinking together. stepan is described as good and kindly when he has to do with men of his own class, but very sharp-tongued when speaking with a foreman or manager. always ready with an answer, he can on occasions silence even an official! he has travelled all over the empire, has associated with all sorts and conditions of men, sees everything most clearly, and is, in short, a very remarkable man. one of his excellent qualities is that, being "enlightened" himself, he is always ready to enlighten others, and he now finds an opportunity of displaying his powers. when andrei, who is still unenlightened, proposes that they should drink another glass of vodka, he replies that the tsar, together with the nobles and traders, bars the way to the throat. as his companion does not understand this metaphorical language, he explains that if there were no tsars, nobles, or traders, he could get five glasses of vodka for the sum that he now pays for one glass. this naturally suggests wider topics, and stepan gives something like a lecture. the common people, he explains, pay by far the greater part of the taxation, and at the same time do all the work; they plough the fields, build the houses and churches, work in the mills and factories, and in return they are systematically robbed and beaten. and what is done with all the money that is taken from them? first of all, the tsar gets nine millions of roubles--enough to feed half a province--and with that sum he amuses himself, has hunting-parties, and feasts, eats, drinks, makes merry, and lives in stone houses. he gave liberty, it is true, to the peasants; but we know what the emancipation really was. the best land was taken away and the taxes were increased, lest the muzhik should get fat and lazy. the tsar is himself the richest landed proprietor and manufacturer in the country. he not only robs us as much as he pleases, but he has sold into slavery (by forming a national debt) our children and grandchildren. he takes our sons as soldiers, shuts them up in barracks so that they should not see their brother-peasants, and hardens their hearts so that they become wild beasts, ready to rend their parents. the nobles and traders likewise rob the poor peasants. in short, all the upper classes have invented a bit of cunning machinery by which the muzhik is made to pay for their pleasures and luxuries. the people will one day rise and break this machinery to pieces. when that day comes they must break every part of it, for if one bit escapes destruction all the other parts of it will immediately grow up again. all the force is on the side of the peasants, if they only knew how to use it. knowledge will come in time. they will then destroy this machine, and perceive that the only real remedy for all social evils is brotherhood. people should live like brothers, having no mine and thine, but all things in common. when we have created brotherhood, there will be no riches and no thieves, but right and righteousness without end. in conclusion, stepan addresses a word to "the torturers": "when the people rise, the tsar will send troops against us, and the nobles and capitalists will stake their last rouble on the result. if they do not succeed, they must not expect any quarter from us. they may conquer us once or twice, but we shall at last get our own, for there is no power that can withstand the whole people. then we shall cleanse the country of our persecutors, and establish a brotherhood in which there will be no mine and thine, but all will work for the common weal. we shall construct no cunning machinery, but shall pluck up evil by the roots, and establish eternal justice!" the above-mentioned distinction between propaganda and agitation, which plays a considerable part in revolutionary literature, had at that time more theoretical than practical importance. the great majority of those who took an active part in the movement confined their efforts to indoctrinating the masses with socialistic and subversive ideas, and sometimes their methods were rather childish. as an illustration i may cite an amusing incident related by one of the boldest and most tenacious of the revolutionists, who subsequently acquired a certain sense of humour. he and a friend were walking one day on a country road, when they were overtaken by a peasant in his cart. ever anxious to sow the good seed, they at once entered into conversation with the rustic, telling him that he ought not to pay his taxes, because the tchinovniks robbed the people, and trying to convince him by quotations from scripture that he ought to resist the authorities. the prudent muzhik whipped up his horse and tried to get out of hearing, but the two zealots ran after him and continued the sermon till they were completely out of breath. other propagandists were more practical, and preached a species of agrarian socialism which the rural population could understand. at the time of the emancipation the peasants were convinced as i have mentioned in a previous chapter, that the tsar meant to give them all the land, and to compensate the landed proprietors by salaries. even when the law was read and explained to them, they clung obstinately to their old convictions, and confidently expected that the real emancipation would be proclaimed shortly. taking advantage of this state of things, the propagandists to whom i refer confirmed the peasants in their error, and sought in this way to sow discontent against the proprietors and the government. their watchword was "land and liberty," and they formed for a good many years a distinct group, under that title (zemlya i volya, or more briefly zemlevoltsi). in the st. petersburg group, which aspired to direct and control this movement, there were one or two men who held different views as to the real object of propaganda and agitation. one of these, prince krapotkin, has told the world what his object was at that time. he hoped that the government would be frightened and that the autocratic power, as in france on the eve of the revolution, would seek support in the landed proprietors, and call together a national assembly. thus a constitution would be granted, and though the first assembly might be conservative in spirit, autocracy would be compelled in the long run to yield to parliamentary pressure. no such elaborate projects were entertained, i believe, by the majority of the propagandists. their reasoning was much simpler: "the government, having become reactionary, tries to prevent us from enlightening the people; we will do it in spite of the government!" the dangers to which they exposed themselves only confirmed them in their resolution. though they honestly believed themselves to be realists and materialists, they were at heart romantic idealists, panting to do something heroic. they had been taught by the apostles whom they venerated, from belinski downwards, that the man who simply talks about the good of the people, and does nothing to promote it, is among the most contemptible of human beings. no such reproach must be addressed to them. if the government opposed and threatened, that was no excuse for inactivity. they must be up and doing. "forward! forward! let us plunge into the people, identify ourselves with them, and work for their benefit! suffering is in store for us, but we must endure it with fortitude!" the type which tchernishevski had depicted in his famous novel, under the name of rakhmetof--the youth who led an ascetic life and subjected himself to privation and suffering as a preparation for future revolutionary activity--now appeared in the flesh. if we may credit bakunin, these rakhmetofs had not even the consolation of believing in the possibility of a revolution, but as they could not and would not remain passive spectators of the misfortunes of the people, they resolved to go in among the masses in order to share with them fraternally their sufferings, and at the same time to teach and prepare, not theoretically, but practically by their living example.* this is, i believe, an exaggeration. the propagandists were, for the most part of incredibly sanguine temperament. * bakunin: "gosudarstvennost' i anarkhiya" ("state organisation and anarchy"), zurich, . the success of the propaganda and agitation was not at all in proportion to the numbers and enthusiasm of those who took part in it. most of these displayed more zeal than mother-wit and discretion. their socialism was too abstract and scientific to be understood by rustics, and when they succeeded in making themselves intelligible they awakened in their hearers more suspicion than sympathy. the muzhik is a very matter-of-fact practical person, totally incapable of understanding what americans call "hifalutin" tendencies in speech and conduct, and as he listened to the preaching of the new gospel doubts and questionings spontaneously rose in his mind: "what do those young people, who betray their gentlefolk origin by their delicate white hands, their foreign phrases, their ignorance of the common things of everyday peasant life, really want? why are they bearing hardships and taking so much trouble? they tell us it is for our good, but we are not such fools and simpletons as they take us for. they are not doing it all for nothing. what do they expect from us in return? whatever it is, they are evidently evil-doers, and perhaps moshenniki (swindlers). devil take them!" and thereupon the cautious muzhik turns his back upon his disinterested self-sacrificing teachers, or goes quietly and denounces them to the police! it is not only in spain that we encounter don quixotes and sancho panzas! occasionally a worse fate befell the missionaries. if they allowed themselves, as they sometimes did, to "blaspheme" against religion or the tsar, they ran the risk of being maltreated on the spot. i have heard of one case in which the punishment for blasphemy was applied by sturdy peasant matrons. even when they escaped such mishaps they had not much reason to congratulate themselves on their success. after three years of arduous labour the hundreds of apostles could not boast of more than a score or two of converts among the genuine working classes, and even these few did not all remain faithful unto death. some of them, however, it must be admitted, laboured and suffered to the end with the courage and endurance of true martyrs. it was not merely the indifference or hostility of the masses that the propagandists had to complain of. the police soon got on their track, and did not confine themselves to persuasion and logical arguments. towards the end of they arrested some members of the central directory group in st. petersburg, and in the following may they discovered in the province of saratof an affiliated organisation with which nearly persons were connected, about one-fifth of them belonging to the female sex. a few came of well-to-do families--sons and daughters of minor officials or small landed proprietors--but the great majority were poor students of humbler origin, a large contingent being supplied by the sons of the poor parish clergy. in other provinces the authorities made similar discoveries. before the end of the year a large proportion of the propagandists were in prison, and the centralised organisation, so far as such a thing existed, was destroyed. gradually it dawned on the minds even of the don quixotes that pacific propaganda was no longer possible, and that attempts to continue it could lead only to useless sacrifices. for a time there was universal discouragement in the revolutionary ranks; and among those who had escaped arrest there were mutual recriminations and endless discussions about the causes of failure and the changes to be made in modes of action. the practical results of these recriminations and discussions was that the partisans of a slow, pacific propaganda retired to the background, and the more impatient revolutionary agitators took possession of the movement. these maintained stoutly that as pacific propaganda had become impossible, stronger methods must be adopted. the masses must be organised so as to offer successful resistance to the government. conspiracies must therefore be formed, local disorders provoked, and blood made to flow. the part of the country which seemed best adapted for experiments of this kind was the southern and southeastern region, inhabited by the descendants of the turbulent cossack population which had raised formidable insurrections under stenka razin and pugatcheff in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. here, then, the more impatient agitators began their work. a kief group called the buntari (rioters), composed of about twenty-five individuals, settled in various localities as small shopkeepers or horse dealers, or went about as workmen or peddlers. one member of the group has given us in his reminiscences an amusing account of the experiment. everywhere the agitators found the peasants suspicious and inhospitable, and consequently they had to suffer a great deal of discomfort. some of them at once gave up the task as hopeless. the others settled in a village and began operations. having made a topographic survey of the locality, they worked out an ingenious plan of campaign; but they had no recruits for the future army of insurrection, and if they had been able to get recruits, they had no arms for them, and no money wherewith to purchase arms or anything else. in these circumstances they gravely appointed a committee to collect funds, knowing very well that no money would be forthcoming. it was as if a shipwrecked crew in an open boat, having reached the brink of starvation, appointed a committee to obtain a supply of fresh water and provisions! in the hope of obtaining assistance from headquarters, a delegate was sent to st. petersburg and moscow to explain that for the arming of the population about a quarter of a million of roubles was required. the delegate brought back thirty second-hand revolvers! the revolutionist who confesses all this* recognises that the whole scheme was childishly unpractical: "we chose the path of popular insurrection because we had faith in the revolutionary spirit of the masses, in its power and its invincibility. that was the weak side of our position; and the most curious part of it was that we drew proofs in support of our theory from history--from the abortive insurrections of pazin and pugatcheff, which took place in an age when the government had only a small regular army and no railways or telegraphs! we did not even think of attempting a propaganda among the military!" in the district of tchigirin the agitators had a little momentary success, but the result was the same. there a student called stefanovitch pretended that the tsar was struggling with the officials to benefit the peasantry, and he showed the simple rustics a forged imperial manifesto in which they were ordered to form a society for the purpose of raising an insurrection against the officials, the nobles, and the priests. at one moment (april, ), the society had about members, but a few months later it was discovered by the police, and the leaders and peasants were arrested. * debogorio-mokrievitch. "vospominaniya" ("reminiscences"). paris, - . when it had thus become evident that propaganda and agitation were alike useless, and when numerous arrests were being made daily, it became necessary for the revolutionists to reconsider their position, and some of the more moderate proposed to rally to the liberals, as a temporary measure. hitherto there had been very little sympathy and a good deal of openly avowed hostility between liberals and revolutionists. the latter, convinced that they could overthrow the autocratic power by their own unaided efforts, had looked askance at liberalism because they believed that parliamentary discussions and party struggles would impede rather than facilitate the advent of the socialist millennium, and strengthen the domination of the bourgeoisie without really improving the condition of the masses. now, however, when the need of allies was felt, it seemed that constitutional government might be used as a stepping-stone for reaching the socialist ideal, because it must grant a certain liberty of the press and of association, and it would necessarily abolish the existing autocratic system of arresting, imprisoning and exiling, on mere suspicion, without any regular form of legal procedure. as usual, an appeal was made to history, and arguments were easily found in favour of this course of action. the past of other nations had shown that in the march of progress there are no sudden leaps and bounds, and it was therefore absurd to imagine, as the revolutionists had hitherto done, that russian autocracy could be swallowed by socialism at a gulp. there must always be periods of transition, and it seemed that such a transition period might now be initiated. liberalism might be allowed to destroy, or at least weaken, autocracy, and then it might be destroyed in its turn by socialism of the most advanced type. having adopted this theory of gradual historic development, some of the more practical revolutionists approached the more advanced liberals and urged them to more energetic action; but before anything could be arranged the more impatient revolutionists--notably the group called the narodovoltsi (national-will-ists)--intervened, denounced what they considered an unholy alliance, and proposed a policy of terrorism by which the government would be frightened into a more conciliatory attitude. their idea was that the officials who displayed most zeal against the revolutionary movement should be assassinated, and that every act of severity on the part of the administration should be answered by an act of "revolutionary justice." as it was evident that the choice between these two courses of action must determine in great measure the future character and ultimate fate of the movement, there was much discussion between the two groups; but the question did not long remain in suspense. soon the extreme party gained the upper hand, and the terrorist policy was adopted. i shall let the revolutionists themselves explain this momentous decision. in a long proclamation published some years later it is explained thus: "the revolutionary movement in russia began with the so-called 'going in among the people.' the first russian revolutionists thought that the freedom of the people could be obtained only by the people itself, and they imagined that the only thing necessary was that the people should absorb socialistic ideas. to this it was supposed that the peasantry were naturally inclined, because they already possess, in the rural commune, institutions which contain the seeds of socialism, and which might serve as a basis for the reconstruction of society according to socialist principles. the propagandists hoped, therefore, that in the teachings of west european socialism the people would recognise its own instinctive creations in riper and more clearly defined forms and that it would joyfully accept the new teaching. "but the people did not understand its friends, and showed itself hostile to them. it turned out that institutions born in slavery could not serve as a foundation for the new construction, and that the man who was yesterday a serf, though capable of taking part in disturbances, is not fitted for conscious revolutionary work. with pain in their heart the revolutionists had to confess that they were deceived in their hopes of the people. around them were no social revolutionary forces on which they could lean for support, and yet they could not reconcile themselves with the existing state of violence and slavery. thereupon awakened a last hope--the hope of a drowning man who clutches at a straw: a little group of heroic and self-sacrificing individuals might accomplish with their own strength the difficult task of freeing russia from the yoke of autocracy. they had to do it themselves, because there was no other means. but would they be able to accomplish it? for them that question did not exist. the struggle of that little group against autocracy was like the heroic means on which a doctor decides when there is no longer any hope of the patient's recovery. terrorism was the only means that remained, and it had the advantage of giving a natural vent to pent-up feelings, and of seeming a reaction against the cruel persecutions of the government. the party called the narodnaya volya (national will) was accordingly formed, and during several years the world witnessed a spectacle that had never been seen before in history. the narodnaya volya, insignificant in numbers but strong in spirit, engaged in single combat with the powerful russian government. neither executions, nor imprisonment with hard labour, nor ordinary imprisonment and exile, destroyed the energy of the revolutionists. under their shots fell, one after the other, the most zealous and typical representatives of arbitrary action and violence. . . ." it was at this time, in , when propaganda and agitation among the masses were being abandoned for the system of terrorism, but before any assassinations had taken place, that i accidentally came into personal relations with some prominent adherents of the revolutionary movement. one day a young man of sympathetic appearance, whom i did not know and who brought no credentials, called on me in st. petersburg and suggested to me that i might make public through the english press what he described as a revolting act of tyranny and cruelty committed by general trepof, the prefect of the city. that official, he said, in visiting recently one of the prisons, had noticed that a young political prisoner called bogolubof did not salute him as he passed, and he had ordered him to be flogged in consequence. to this i replied that i had no reason to disbelieve the story, but that i had equally no reason to accept it as accurate, as it rested solely on the evidence of a person with whom i was totally unacquainted. my informant took the objection in good part, and offered me the names and addresses of a number of persons who could supply me with any proofs that i might desire. at his next visit i told him i had seen several of the persons he had named, and that i could not help perceiving that they were closely connected with the revolutionary movement. i then went on to suggest that as the sympathisers with that movement constantly complained that they were systematically misrepresented, calumniated and caricatured, the leaders ought to give the world an accurate account of their real doctrines, and in this respect i should be glad to assist them. already i knew something of the subject, because i had many friends and acquaintances among the sympathisers, and had often had with them interminable discussions. with their ideas, so far as i knew them, i felt bound to confess that i had no manner of sympathy, but i flattered myself, and he himself had admitted, that i was capable of describing accurately and criticising impartially doctrines with which i did not agree. my new acquaintance, whom i may call dimitry ivan'itch, was pleased with the proposal, and after he had consulted with some of his friends, we came to an agreement by which i should receive all the materials necessary for writing an accurate account of the doctrinal side of the movement. with regard to any conspiracies that might be in progress, i warned him that he must be strictly reticent, because if i came accidentally to know of any terrorist designs, i should consider it my duty to warn the authorities. for this reason i declined to attend any secret conclaves, and it was agreed that i should be instructed without being initiated. the first step in my instruction was not very satisfactory or encouraging. one day dimitri ivan'itch brought me a large manuscript, which contained, he said, the real doctrines of the revolutionists and the explanation of their methods. i was surprised to find that it was written in english, and i perceived at a glance that it was not at all what i wanted. as soon as i had read the first sentence i turned to my friend and said: "i am very sorry to find, dimitri ivan'itch, that you have not kept your part of the bargain. we agreed, you may remember, that we were to act towards each other in absolutely good faith, and here i find a flagrant bit of bad faith in the very first sentence of the manuscript which you have brought me. the document opens with the statement that a large number of students have been arrested and imprisoned for distributing books among the people. that statement may be true according to the letter, but it is evidently intended to mislead. these youths have been arrested, as you must know, not for distributing ordinary books, as the memorandum suggests, but for distributing books of a certain kind. i have read some of them, and i cannot feel at all surprised that the government should object to their being put into the hands of the ignorant masses. take, for example, the one entitled khitraya mekhanika, and others of the same type. the practical teaching they contain is that the peasants should be ready to rise and cut the throats of the landed proprietors and officials. now, a wholesale massacre of the kind may or may not be desirable in the interests of society, and justifiable according to some new code of higher morality. that is a question into which i do not enter. all i maintain is that the writer of this memorandum, in speaking of 'books,' meant to mislead me." dimitri ivan'itch looked puzzled and ashamed. "forgive me," he said; "i am to blame--not for having attempted to deceive you, but for not having taken precautions. i have not read the manuscript, and i could not if i wished, for it is written in english, and i know no language but my mother tongue. my friends ought not to have done this. give me back the paper, and i shall take care that nothing of the sort occurs in future." this promise was faithfully kept, and i had no further reason to complain. dimitri ivan'itch gave me a considerable amount of information, and lent me a valuable collection of revolutionary pamphlets. unfortunately the course of tuition was suddenly interrupted by unforeseen circumstances, which i may mention as characteristic of life in st. petersburg at the time. my servant, an excellent young russian, more honest than intelligent, came to me one morning with a mysterious air, and warned me to be on my guard, because there were "bad people" going about. on being pressed a little, he explained to me what he meant. two strangers had come to him and, after offering him a few roubles, had asked him a number of questions about my habits--at what hour i went out and came home, what persons called on me, and much more of the same sort. "they even tried, sir, to get into your sitting-room; but of course i did not allow them. i believe they want to rob you!" it was not difficult to guess who these "bad people" were who took such a keen interest in my doings, and who wanted to examine my apartment in my absence. any doubts i had on the subject were soon removed. on the morrow and following days i noticed that whenever i went out, and wherever i might walk or drive, i was closely followed by two unsympathetic-looking individuals--so closely that when i turned round sharp they ran into me. the first and second times this little accident occurred they received a strong volley of unceremonious vernacular; but when we became better acquainted we simply smiled at each other knowingly, as the old roman augurs are supposed to have done when they met in public unobserved. there was no longer any attempt at concealment or mystification. i knew i was being shadowed, and the shadowers could not help perceiving that i knew it. yet, strange to say, they were never changed! the reader probably assumes that the secret police had somehow got wind of my relations with the revolutionists. such an assumption presupposes on the part of the police an amount of intelligence and perspicacity which they do not usually possess. on this occasion they were on an entirely wrong scent, and the very day when i first noticed my shadowers, a high official, who seemed to regard the whole thing as a good joke, told me confidentially what the wrong scent was. at the instigation of an ex-ambassador, from whom i had the misfortune to differ in matters of foreign policy, the moscow gazette had denounced me publicly by name as a person who was in the habit of visiting daily the ministry of foreign affairs--doubtless with the nefarious purpose of obtaining by illegal means secret political information--and the police had concluded that i was a fit and proper person to be closely watched. in reality, my relations with the russian foreign office, though inconvenient to the ex-ambassador, were perfectly regular and above-board--sanctioned, in fact, by prince gortchakoff--but the indelicate attentions of the secret police were none the less extremely unwelcome, because some intelligent police-agent might get onto the real scent, and cause me serious inconvenience. i determined, therefore, to break off all relations with dimitri ivan'itch and his friends, and postpone my studies to a more convenient season; but that decision did not entirely extricate me from my difficulties. the collection of revolutionary pamphlets was still in my possession, and i had promised to return it. for some little time i did not see how i could keep my promise without compromising myself or others, but at last--after having had my shadowers carefully shadowed in order to learn accurately their habits, and having taken certain elaborate precautions, with which i need not trouble the reader, as he is not likely ever to require them--i paid a visit secretly to dimitri ivan'itch in his small room, almost destitute of furniture, handed him the big parcel of pamphlets, warned him not to visit me again, and bade him farewell. thereupon we went our separate ways and i saw him no more. whether he subsequently played a leading part in the movement i never could ascertain, because i did not know his real name; but if the conception which i formed of his character was at all accurate, he probably ended his career in siberia, for he was not a man to look back after having put his hand to the plough. that is a peculiar trait of the russian revolutionists of the period in question. their passion for realising an impossible ideal was incurable. many of them were again and again arrested; and as soon as they escaped or were liberated they almost invariably went back to their revolutionary activity and worked energetically until they again fell into the clutches of the police. from this digression into the sphere of personal reminiscences i return now and take up again the thread of the narrative. we have seen how the propaganda and the agitation had failed, partly because the masses showed themselves indifferent or hostile, and partly because the government adopted vigorous repressive measures. we have seen, too, how the leaders found themselves in face of a formidable dilemma; either they must abandon their schemes or they must attack their persecutors. the more energetic among them, as i have already stated, chose the latter alternative, and they proceeded at once to carry out their policy. in the course of a single year (february, , to february, ) a whole series of terrorist crimes was committed; in kief an attempt was made on the life of the public prosecutor, and an officer of gendarmerie was stabbed; in st. petersburg the chief of the political police of the empire (general mezentsef) was assassinated in broad daylight in one of the central streets, and a similar attempt was made on his successor (general drenteln); at kharkof the governor (prince krapotkin) was shot dead when entering his residence. during the same period two members of the revolutionary organisation, accused of treachery, were "executed" by order of local committees. in most cases the perpetrators of the crimes contrived to escape. one of them became well known in western europe as an author under the pseudonym of stepniak. terrorism had not the desired effect. on the contrary, it stimulated the zeal and activity of the authorities, and in the course of the winter of - hundreds of arrests--some say as many as , --were made in st. petersburg alone. driven to desperation, the revolutionists still at large decided that it was useless to assassinate mere officials; the fons et origo mali must be reached; a blow must be struck at the tsar himself! the first attempt was made by a young man called solovyoff, who fired several shots at alexander ii. as he was walking near the winter palace, but none of them took effect. this policy of aggressive terrorism did not meet with universal approval among the revolutionists, and it was determined to discuss the matter at a congress of delegates from various local circles. the meetings were held in june, , two months after solovyoff's unsuccessful attempt, at two provincial towns, lipetsk and voronezh. it was there agreed in principle to confirm the decision of the terrorist narodovoltsi. as the liberals were not in a position to create liberal institutions or to give guarantees for political rights, which are the essential conditions of any socialist agitation, there remained for the revolutionary party no other course than to destroy the despotic autocracy. thereupon a programme of action was prepared, and an executive committee elected. from that moment, though there were still many who preferred milder methods, the terrorists had the upper hand, and they at once proceeded to centralise the organisation and to introduce stricter discipline, with greater precautions to ensure secrecy. the executive committee imagined that by assassinating the tsar autocracy might be destroyed, and several carefully planned attempts were made. the first plan was to wreck the train when the imperial family were returning to st. petersburg from the crimea. mines were accordingly laid at three separate points, but they all failed. at the last of the three points (near moscow) a train was blown up, but it was not the one in which the imperial family was travelling. not at all discouraged by this failure, nor by the discovery of its secret printing-press by the police, the executive committee next tried to attain its object by an explosion of dynamite in the winter palace when the imperial family were assembled at dinner. the execution was entrusted to a certain halturin, one of the few revolutionists of peasant origin. as an exceptionally clever carpenter and polisher, he easily found regular employment in the palace, and he contrived to make a rough plan of the building. this plan, on which the dining-hall was marked with an ominous red cross, fell into the hands of the police, and they made what they considered a careful investigation; but they failed to unravel the plot and did not discover the dynamite concealed in the carpenters' sleeping quarters. halturin showed wonderful coolness while the search was going on, and continued to sleep every night on the explosive, though it caused him excruciating headaches. when he was assured by the chemist of the executive committee that the quantity collected was sufficient, he exploded the mine at the usual dinner hour, and contrived to escape uninjured.* in the guardroom immediately above the spot where the dynamite was exploded ten soldiers were killed and wounded, and in the dining-hall the floor was wrecked, but the imperial family escaped in consequence of not sitting down to dinner at the usual hour. * after living some time in roumania he returned to russia under the name of stepanof, and in he was tried and executed for complicity in the assassination of general strebnekof. for this barbarous act the executive committee publicly accepted full responsibility. in a proclamation placarded in the streets of st. petersburg it declared that, while regretting the death of the soldiers, it was resolved to carry on the struggle with the autocratic power until the social reforms should be entrusted to a constituent assembly, composed of members freely elected and furnished with instructions from their constituents. finding police-repression so ineffectual, alexander ii. determined to try the effect of conciliation, and for this purpose he placed loris melikof at the head of the government, with semi-dictatorial powers (february, ). the experiment did not succeed. by the terrorists it was regarded as "a hypocritical liberalism outwardly and a veiled brutality within," while in the official world it was condemned as an act of culpable weakness on the part of the autocracy. one consequence of it was that the executive committee was encouraged to continue its efforts, and, as the police became much less active, it was enabled to improve the revolutionary organisation. in a circular sent to the affiliated provincial associations it explained that the only source of legislation must be the national will,* and as the government would never accept such a principle, its hand must be forced by a great popular insurrection, for which all available forces should be organised. the peasantry, as experience had shown, could not yet be relied on, but efforts should be made to enrol the workmen of the towns. great importance was attached to propaganda in the army; but as few conversions had been made among the rank and file, attention was to be directed chiefly to the officers, who would be able to carry their subordinates with them at the critical moment. * hence the designation narodovoltsi (which, as we have seen, means literally national-will-ists) adopted by this section. while thus recommending the scheme of destroying autocracy by means of a popular insurrection in the distant future, the committee had not abandoned more expeditious methods, and it was at that moment hatching a plot for the assassination of the tsar. during the winter months his majesty was in the habit of holding on sundays a small parade in the riding-school near the michael square in st. petersburg. on sunday, march d, , the streets by which he usually returned to the palace had been undermined at two places, and on an alternative route several conspirators were posted with hand-grenades concealed under their great coats. the emperor chose the alternative route. here, at a signal given by sophia perovski, the first grenade was thrown by a student called ryssakoff, but it merely wounded some members of the escort. the emperor stopped and got out of his sledge, and as he was making inquiries about the wounded soldiers a second grenade was thrown by a youth called grinevitski, with fatal effect. alexander ii. was conveyed hurriedly to the winter palace, and died almost immediately. by this act the members of the executive committee proved their energy and their talent as conspirators, but they at the same time showed their shortsightedness and their political incapacity; for they had made no preparations for immediately seizing the power which they so ardently coveted--with the intention of using it, of course, entirely for the public good. if the facts were not so well authenticated, we might dismiss the whole story as incredible. a group of young people, certainly not more than thirty or forty in number, without any organised material force behind them, without any influential accomplices in the army or the official world, without any prospect of support from the masses, and with no plan for immediate action after the assassination, deliberately provoked the crisis for which they were so hopelessly unprepared. it has been suggested that they expected the liberals to seize the supreme power, but this explanation is evidently an afterthought, because they knew that the liberals were as unprepared as themselves and they regarded them at that time as dangerous rivals. besides this, the explanation is quite irreconcilable with the proclamation issued by the executive committee immediately afterwards. the most charitable way of explaining the conduct of the conspirators is to suppose that they were actuated more by blind hatred of the autocracy and its agents than by political calculations of a practical kind--that they acted simply like a wounded bull in the arena, which shuts its eyes and recklessly charges its tormentors. the murder of the emperor had not at all the effect which the narodovoltsi anticipated. on the contrary, it destroyed their hopes of success. many people of liberal convictions who sympathised vaguely with the revolutionary movement without taking part in it, and who did not condemn very severely the attacks on police officials, were horrified when they found that the would-be reformers did not spare even the sacred person of the tsar. at the same time, the police officials, who had become lax and inefficient under the conciliatory regime of loris melikof, recovered their old zeal, and displayed such inordinate activity that the revolutionary organisation was paralysed and in great measure destroyed. six of the regicides were condemned to death, and five of them publicly executed, amongst the latter sophia perovski, one of the most active and personally sympathetic personages among the revolutionists. scores of those who had taken an active part in the movement were in prison or in exile. for a short time the propaganda was continued among military and naval officers, and various attempts at reorganisation, especially in the southern provinces, were made, but they all failed. a certain degaief, who had taken part in the formation of military circles, turned informer, and aided the police. by his treachery not only a considerable number of officers, but also vera filipof, a young lady of remarkable ability and courage, who was the leading spirit in the attempts at reorganisation, were arrested. there were still a number of leaders living abroad, and from time to time they sent emissaries to revive the propaganda, but these efforts were all fruitless. one of the active members of the revolutionary party, leo deutsch, who has since published his memoirs, relates how the tide of revolution ebbed rapidly at this time. "both in russia and abroad," he says, "i had seen how the earlier enthusiasm had given way to scepticism; men had lost faith, though many of them would not allow that it was so. it was clear to me that a reaction had set in for many years." of the attempts to resuscitate the movement he says: "the untried and unskilfully managed societies were run to death before they could undertake anything definite, and the unity and interdependence which characterised the original band of members had disappeared." with regard to the want of unity, another prominent revolutionist (maslof) wrote to a friend (dragomanof) at geneva in in terms of bitter complaint. he accused the executive committee of trying to play the part of chief of the whole revolutionary party, and declared that its centralising tendencies were more despotic than those of the government. distributing orders among its adherents without initiating them into its plans, it insisted on unquestioning obedience. the socialist youth, ardent adherents of federalism, were indignant at this treatment, and began to understand that the committee used them simply as chair a canon. the writer described in vivid colours the mutual hostility which reigned among various fractions of the party, and which manifested itself in accusations and even in denunciations; and he predicted that the narodnaya volya, which had organised the various acts of terrorism culminating in the assassination of the emperor, would never develop into a powerful revolutionary party. it had sunk into the slough of untruth, and it could only continue to deceive the government and the public. in the mutual recriminations several interesting admissions were made. it was recognised that neither the educated classes nor the common people were capable of bringing about a revolution: the former were not numerous enough, and the latter were devoted to the tsar and did not sympathise with the revolutionary movement, though they might perhaps be induced to rise at a moment of crisis. it was considered doubtful whether such a rising was desirable, because the masses, being insufficiently prepared, might turn against the educated minority. in no case could a popular insurrection attain the object which the socialists had in view, because the power would either remain in the hands of the tsar--thanks to the devotion of the common people--or it would fall into the hands of the liberals, who would oppress the masses worse than the autocratic government had done. further, it was recognised that acts of terrorism were worse than useless, because they were misunderstood by the ignorant, and tended to inflame the masses against the leaders. it seemed necessary, therefore, to return to a pacific propaganda. tikhomirof, who was nominally directing the movement from abroad, became utterly discouraged, and wrote in to one of his emissaries in russia (lopatin): "you now see russia, and can convince yourself that it does not possess the material for a vast work of reorganisation. . . . i advise you seriously not to make superhuman efforts and not to make a scandal in attempting the impossible. . . . if you do not want to satisfy yourself with trifles, come away and await better times." in examining the material relating to this period one sees clearly that the revolutionary movement had got into a vicious circle. as pacific propaganda had become impossible, in consequence of the opposition of the authorities and the vigilance of the police, the government could be overturned only by a general insurrection; but the general insurrection could not be prepared without pacific propaganda. as for terrorism, it had become discredited. tikhomirof himself came to the conclusion that the terrorist idea was altogether a mistake, not only morally, but also from the point of view of political expediency. a party, he explained, has either the force to overthrow the government, or it has not; in the former case it has no need of political assassination, and in the latter the assassinations have no effect, because governments are not so stupid as to let themselves be frightened by those who cannot overthrow them. plainly there was nothing to be done but to wait for better times, as he had suggested, and the better times did not seem to be within measurable distance. he himself, after publishing a brochure entitled "why i ceased to be a revolutionist," made his peace with the government, and others followed his example.* in one prison nine made formal recantations, among them emilianof, who held a reserve bomb ready when alexander ii. was assassinated. occasional acts of terrorism showed that there was still fire under the smouldering embers, but they were few and far between. the last serious incident of the kind during this period was the regicide conspiracy of sheviryoff in march, . the conspirators, carrying the bombs, were arrested in the principal street of st. petersburg, and five of them were hanged. the railway accident of borki, which happened in the following year, and in which the imperial family had a very narrow escape, ought perhaps to be added to the list, because there is reason to believe that it was the work of revolutionists. * tikhomirof subsequently worked against the social democrats in moscow in the interests of the government. by this time all the cooler heads among the revolutionists, especially those who were living abroad in personal safety, had come to understand that the socialist ideal could not be attained by popular insurrection, terrorism, or conspiracies, and consequently that further activity on the old lines was absurd. those of them who did not abandon the enterprise in despair reverted to the idea that autocratic power, impregnable against frontal attacks, might be destroyed by prolonged siege operations. this change of tactics is reflected in the revolutionary literature. in , for example, the editor of the svobodnaya rossia declared that the aim of the movement now was political freedom--not only as a stepping-stone to social reorganisation, but as a good in itself. this is, he explains, the only possible revolution at present in russia. "for the moment there can be no other immediate practical aim. ulterior aims are not abandoned, but they are not at present within reach. . . the revolutionists of the seventies and the eighties did not succeed in creating among the peasantry or the town workmen anything which had even the appearance of a force capable of struggling with the government; and the revolutionists of the future will have no greater success until they have obtained such political rights as personal inviolability. our immediate aim, therefore, is a national assembly controlled by local self-government, and this can be brought about only by a union of all the revolutionary forces." there were still indications, it is true, that the old spirit of terrorism was not yet quite extinct: captain zolotykhin, for example, an officer of the moscow secret police, was assassinated by a female revolutionist in . but such incidents were merely the last fitful sputterings of a lamp that was going out for want of oil. in stepniak declared it evident to all that the professional revolutionists could not alone overthrow autocracy, however great their energy and heroism; and he arrived at the same conclusion as the writer just quoted. of course, immediate success was not to be expected. "it is only from the evolutionist's point of view that the struggle with autocracy has a meaning. from any other standpoint it must seem a sanguinary farce--a mere exercise in the art of self-sacrifice!" such are the conclusions arrived at in by a man who had been in one of the leading terrorists, and who had with his own hand assassinated general mezentsef, chief of the political police. thus the revolutionary movement, after passing through four stages, which i may call the academic, the propagandist, the insurrectionary, and the terrorist, had failed to accomplish its object. one of those who had taken an active part in it, and who, after spending two years in siberia as a political exile, escaped and settled in western europe, could write thus: "our revolutionary movement is dead, and we who are still alive stand by the grave of our beautiful departed and discuss what is wanting to her. one of us thinks that her nose should be improved; another suggests a change in her chin or her hair. we do not notice the essential that what our beautiful departed wants is life; that it is not a matter of hair or eyebrows, but of a living soul, which formerly concealed all defects, and made her beautiful, and which now has flown away. however we may invent changes and improvements, all these things are utterly insignificant in comparison with what is really wanting, and what we cannot give; for who can breathe a living soul into a corpse?" in truth, the movement which i have endeavoured to describe was at an end; but another movement, having the same ultimate object, was coming into existence, and it constitutes one of the essential factors of the present situation. some of the exiles in switzerland and paris had become acquainted with the social-democratic and labour movements in western europe, and they believed that the strategy and tactics employed in these movements might be adopted in russia. how far they have succeeded in carrying out this policy i shall relate presently; but before entering on this subject, i must explain how the application of such a policy had been rendered possible by changes in the economic conditions. russia had begun to create rapidly a great manufacturing industry and an industrial proletariat. this will form the subject of the next chapter. chapter xxxvi industrial progress and the proletariat russia till lately a peasant empire--early efforts to introduce arts and crafts--peter the great and his successors--manufacturing industry long remains an exotic--the cotton industry--the reforms of alexander ii.--protectionists and free trade--progress under high tariffs--m. witte's policy--how capital was obtained--increase of exports--foreign firms cross the customs frontier--rapid development of iron industry--a commercial crisis--m. witte's position undermined by agrarians and doctrinaires--m. plehve a formidable opponent--his apprehensions of revolution--fall of m. witte--the industrial proletariat. fifty years ago russia was still essentially a peasant empire, living by agriculture of a primitive type, and supplying her other wants chiefly by home industries, as was the custom in western europe during the middle ages. for many generations her rulers had been trying to transplant into their wide dominions the art and crafts of the west, but they had formidable difficulties to contend with, and their success was not nearly as great as they desired. we know that as far back as the fourteenth century there were cloth-workers in moscow, for we read in the chronicles that the workshops of these artisans were sacked when the town was stormed by the tartars. workers in metal had also appeared in some of the larger towns by that time, but they do not seem to have risen much above the level of ordinary blacksmiths. they were destined, however, to make more rapid progress than other classes of artisans, because the old tsars of muscovy, like other semi-barbarous potentates, admired and envied the industries of more civilised countries mainly from the military point of view. what they wanted most was a plentiful supply of good arms wherewith to defend themselves and attack their neighbours, and it was to this object that their most strenuous efforts were directed. as early as ivan iii., the grandfather of ivan the terrible, sent a delegate to venice to seek out for him an architect who, in addition to his own craft, knew how to make guns; and in due course appeared in the kremlin a certain muroli, called aristotle by his contemporaries on account of his profound learning. he undertook "to build churches and palaces, to cast big bells and cannons, to fire off the said cannons, and to make every sort of castings very cunningly"; and for the exercise of these various arts it was solemnly stipulated in a formal document that he should receive the modest salary of ten roubles monthly. with regard to the military products, at least, the venetian faithfully fulfilled his contract, and in a short time the tsar had the satisfaction of possessing a "cannon-house," subsequently dignified with the name of "arsenal." some of the natives learned the foreign art, and exactly a century later ( ) a russian, or at least a slav, called tchekhof, produced a famous "tsar-cannon," weighing as much as , lbs. the connection thus established with the mechanical arts of the west was always afterwards maintained, and we find frequent notices of the fact in contemporary writers. in the reign of the grandfather of peter the great, for example, two paper-works were established by an italian; and velvet for the tsar and his boyars, gold brocades for ecclesiastical vestments, and rude kinds of glass for ordinary purposes were manufactured under the august patronage of the enlightened ruler. his son alexis went a good many steps further, and scandalised his god-fearing orthodox subjects by his love of foreign heretical inventions. it was in his german suburb of moscow that young peter, who was to be crowned "the great," made his first acquaintance with the useful arts of the west. when the great reformer came to the throne he found in his tsardom, besides many workshops, some ten foundries, all of which were under orders "to cast cannons, bombs, and bullets, and to make arms for the service of the state." this seemed to him only a beginning, especially for the mining and iron industry, in which he was particularly interested. by importing foreign artificers and placing at their disposal big estates, with numerous serfs, in the districts where minerals were plentiful, and by carefully stipulating that these foreigners should teach his subjects well, and conceal from them none of the secrets of the craft, he created in the ural a great iron industry, which still exists at the present day. finding by experience that state mines and state ironworks were a heavy drain on his insufficiently replenished treasury, he transferred some of them to private persons, and this policy was followed occasionally by his successors. hence the gigantic fortunes of the demidofs and other families. the shuvalovs, for example, in possessed, for the purpose of working their mines and ironworks, no less than , serfs and a corresponding amount of land. unfortunately the concessions were generally given not to enterprising business-men, but to influential court-dignitaries, who confined their attention to squandering the revenues, and not a few of the mines and works reverted to the government. the army required not only arms and ammunition, but also uniforms and blankets. great attention, therefore, was paid to the woollen industry from the reign of peter downwards. in the time of catherine there were already cloth factories, but they were on a very small scale, according to modern conceptions. ten factories in moscow, for example, had amongst them only looms, workers, and a yearly output for , roubles. while thus largely influenced in its economic policy by military considerations, the government did not entirely neglect other branches of manufacturing industry. ever since russia had pretensions to being a civilised power its rulers have always been inclined to pay more attention to the ornamental than the useful--to the varnish rather than the framework of civilisation--and we need not therefore be surprised to find that long before the native industry could supply the materials required for the ordinary wants of humble life, attempts were made to produce such things as gobelin tapestries. i mention this merely as an illustration of a characteristic trait of the national character, the influence of which may be found in many other spheres of official activity. if russia did not attain the industrial level of western europe, it was not from want of ambition and effort on the part of the rulers. they worked hard, if not always wisely, for this end. manufacturers were exempted from rates and taxes, and even from military service, and some of them, as i have said, received large estates from the crown on the understanding that the serfs should be employed as workmen. at the same time they were protected from foreign competition by prohibitive tariffs. in a word, the manufacturing industry was nursed and fostered in a way to satisfy the most thorough-going protectionist, especially those branches which worked up native raw material such as ores, flax, hemp, wool, and tallow. occasionally the official interference and anxiety to protect public interests went further than the manufacturers desired. on more than one occasion the authorities fixed the price of certain kinds of manufactured goods, and in the senate, being anxious to protect the population from fires, ordered all glass and iron works within a radius of versts around moscow to be destroyed! in spite of such obstacles, the manufacturing industry as a whole made considerable progress. between and the number of establishments officially recognised as factories rose from to . these results did not satisfy catherine ii., who ascended the throne in . under the influence of her friends, the french encyclopedistes, she imagined for a time that the official control might be relaxed, and that the system of employing serfs in the factories and foundries might be replaced by free labour, as in western europe; monopolies might be abolished, and all liege subjects, including the peasants, might be allowed to embark in industrial undertakings as they pleased, "for the benefit of the state and the nation." all this looked very well on paper, but catherine never allowed her sentimental liberalism to injure seriously the interests of her empire, and she accordingly refrained from putting the laissez-faire principle largely into practice. though a good deal has been written about her economic policy, it is hardly distinguishable from that of her predecessors. like them, she maintained high tariffs, accorded large subsidies, and even prevented the export of raw material, in the hope that it might be worked up at home; and when the prices in the woollen market rose very high, she compelled the manufacturers to supply the army with cloth at a price fixed by the authorities. in short, the old system remained practically unimpaired, and notwithstanding the steady progress made during the reign of nicholas i. ( - ), when the number of factory hands rose from , to , , the manufacturing industry as a whole continued to be, until the serfs were emancipated in , a hothouse plant which could flourish only in an officially heated atmosphere. there was one branch of it, however, to which this remark does not apply. the art of cotton-spinning and cotton-weaving struck deep root in russian soil. after remaining for generations in the condition of a cottage industry--the yarn being distributed among the peasants and worked up by them in their own homes--it began, about , to be modernised. though it still required to be protected against foreign competition, it rapidly outgrew the necessity for direct official support. big factories driven by steam-power were constructed, the number of hands employed rose to , , and the foundations of great fortunes were laid. strange to say, many of the future millionaires were uneducated serfs. sava morozof, for example, who was to become one of the industrial magnates of moscow, was a serf belonging to a proprietor called ryumin; most of the others were serfs of count sheremetyef--the owner of a large estate on which the industrial town of ivanovo had sprung up--who was proud of having millionaires among his serfs, and who never abused his authority over them. the great movement, however, was not effected without the assistance of foreigners. foreign foremen were largely employed, and in the work of organisation a leading part was played by a german called ludwig knoop. beginning life as a commercial traveller for an english firm, he soon became a large cotton importer, and when in a feverish activity was produced in the russian manufacturing world by the government's permission to import english machines, his firm supplied these machines to the factories on condition of obtaining a share in the business. it has been calculated that it obtained in this way a share in no less than factories, and hence arose among the peasantry a popular saying: "where there is a church, there you find a pope, and where there is a factory, there you find a knoop."* the biggest creation of the firm was a factory built at narva in , with nearly half a million spindles driven by water-power. * gdye tserkov--tam pop; a gdye fabrika--tam knop. in the second half of last century a revolution was brought about in the manufacturing industry generally by the emancipation of the serfs, the rapid extension of railways, the facilities for creating limited liability companies, and by certain innovations in the financial policy of the government. the emancipation put on the market an unlimited supply of cheap labour; the construction of railways in all directions increased a hundredfold the means of communication; and the new banks and other credit institutions, aided by an overwhelming influx of foreign capital, encouraged the foundation and extension of industrial and commercial enterprise of every description. for a time there was great excitement. it was commonly supposed that in all matters relating to trade and industry russia had suddenly jumped up to the level of western europe, and many people in st. petersburg, carried away by the prevailing enthusiasm for liberalism in general and the doctrines of free trade in particular, were in favour of abolishing protectionism as an antiquated restriction on liberty and an obstacle to economic progress. at one moment the government was disposed to yield to the current, but it was restrained by an influential group of conservative political economists, who appealed to patriotic sentiment, and by the moscow manufacturers, who declared that free trade would ruin the country. after a little hesitation it proceeded to raise, instead of lowering, the protectionist tariff. in - the ad valorem duties were, on an average, under thirteen per cent., but from that time onwards they rose steadily, until the last five years of the century, when they averaged thirty-three per cent., and were for some articles very much higher. in this way the moscow industrial magnates were protected against the influx of cheap foreign goods, but they were not saved from foreign competition, for many foreign manufacturers, in order to enjoy the benefit of the high duties, founded factories in russia. even the firmly established cotton industry suffered from these intruders. industrial suburbs containing not a few cotton factories sprang up around st. petersburg; and a small polish village called lodz, near the german frontier, grew rapidly into a prosperous town of , inhabitants, and became a serious rival to the ancient muscovite capital. so severely was the competition of this young upstart felt, that the moscow merchants petitioned the emperor to protect them by drawing a customs frontier round the polish provinces, but their petition was not granted. under the shelter of the high tariffs the manufacturing industry as a whole has made rapid progress, and the cotton trade has kept well to the front. in that branch, between and , the number of hands employed rose from , to , , and the estimated value of the products from to millions of roubles. in the number of spindles was considerably over six millions, and the number of automatic weaving machines , . the iron industry has likewise progressed rapidly, though it has not yet outgrown the necessity for government support, and it is not yet able to provide for all home wants. about forty years ago it received a powerful impulse from the discovery that in the provinces to the north of the crimea and the sea of azof there were enormous quantities of iron ore and beds of good coal in close proximity to each other. thanks to this discovery and to other facts of which i shall have occasion to speak presently, this district, which had previously been agricultural and pastoral, has outstripped the famous ural region, and has become the black country of russia. the vast lonely steppe, where formerly one saw merely the peasant-farmer, the shepherd, and the tchumak,* driving along somnolently with his big, long-horned, white bullocks, is now dotted over with busy industrial settlements of mushroom growth, and great ironworks--some of them unfinished; while at night the landscape is lit up with the lurid flames of gigantic blast-furnaces. in this wonderful transformation, as in the history of russian industrial progress generally, a great part was played by foreigners. the pioneer who did most in this district was an englishman, john hughes, who began life as the son and pupil of a welsh blacksmith, and whose sons are now directors of the biggest of the south russian ironworks. * the tchumak, a familiar figure in the songs and legends of little russia, was the carrier who before the construction of railways transported the grain to the great markets, and brought back merchandise to the interior. he is gradually disappearing. much as the south has progressed industrially in recent years, it still remains far behind those industrial portions of the country which were thickly settled at an earlier date. from this point of view the most important region is the group of provinces clustering round moscow; next comes the st. petersburg region, including livonia; and thirdly poland. as for the various kinds of industry, the most important category is that of textile fabrics, the second that of articles of nutrition, and the third that of ores and metals. the total production, if we may believe certain statistical authorities, places russia now among the industrial nations of the world in the fifth place, immediately after the united states, england, germany, and france, and a little before austria. the man who has in recent times carried out most energetically the policy of protecting and fostering native industries is m. witte, a name now familiar to western europe. an avowed disciple of the great german economist, friedrich list, about whose works he published a brochure in , he held firmly, from his youth upwards, the doctrine that "each nation should above all things develop harmoniously its natural resources to the highest possible degree of independence, protecting its own industries and preferring the national aim to the pecuniary advantage of individuals." as a corollary to this principle he declared that purely agricultural countries are economically backward and intellectually stagnant, being condemned to pay tribute to the nations who have learned to work up their raw products into more valuable commodities. the good old english doctrine that certain countries were intended by providence to be eternally agricultural, and that their function in the economy of the universe is to supply raw material for the industrial nations, was always in his eyes an abomination--an ingenious, nefarious invention of the manchester school, astutely invented for the purpose of keeping the younger nations permanently in a state of economic bondage for the benefit of english manufacturers. to emancipate russia from this thraldom by enabling her to create a great native industry, sufficient to supply all her own wants, was the aim of his policy and the constant object of his untiring efforts. those who have had the good fortune to know him personally must have often heard him discourse eloquently on this theme, supporting his views by quotations from the economists of his own school, and by illustrations drawn from the history of his own and other countries. a necessary condition of realising this aim was that there should be high tariffs. these already existed, and they might be raised still higher, but in themselves they were not enough. for the rapid development of the native industry an enormous capital was required, and the first problem to be solved was how this capital could be obtained. at one moment the energetic minister conceived the project of creating a fictitious capital by inflating the paper currency; but this idea proved unpopular. when broached in the council of state it encountered determined opposition. some of the members of that body, especially m. bunge, who had been himself minister of finance, and who remembered the evil effects of the inordinate inflation of the currency on foreign exchanges during the turkish war, advocated strongly the directly opposite course--a return to gold monometallism, for which m. vishnegradski, m. witte's immediate predecessor, had made considerable preparations. being a practical man without inveterate prejudices, m. witte gave up the scheme which he could not carry through, and adopted the views of his opponents. he would introduce the gold currency as recommended; but how was the requisite capital to be obtained? it must be procured from abroad, somehow, and the simplest way seemed to be to stimulate the export of native products. for this purpose the railways were extended,* the traffic rates manipulated, and the means of transport improved generally. * in , when m. witte undertook the financial administration, there were , versts of railway, and at the end of there were , versts. a certain influx of gold was thus secured, but not nearly enough for the object in view.* some more potent means, therefore, had to be employed, and the inventive minister evolved a new scheme. if he could only induce foreign capitalists to undertake manufacturing industries in russia, they would, at one and the same time, bring into the country the capital required, and they would cooperate powerfully in that development of the national industry which he so ardently wished. no sooner had he roughly sketched out his plan--for he was not a man to let the grass grow under his feet--than he set himself to put it into execution by letting it be known in the financial world that the government was ready to open a great field for lucrative investments, in the form of profitable enterprises under the control of those who subscribed the capital. * in the total value of the exports was roughly , , pounds. it then fell, in consequence of bad harvests, to millions, and did not recover the previous maximum until , when it stood at millions. thereafter there was a steady rise till , when the total was estimated at millions. foreign capitalists responded warmly to the call. crowds of concession-hunters, projectors, company promoters, et hoc genus omne, collected in st. petersburg, offering their services on the most tempting terms; and all of them who could make out a plausible case were well received at the ministry of finance. it was there explained to them that in many branches of industry, such as the manufacture of textile fabrics, there was little or no room for newcomers, but that in others the prospects were most brilliant. take, for example, the iron industries of southern russia. the boundless mineral wealth of that region was still almost intact, and the few works which had been there established were paying very large dividends. the works founded by john hughes, for example, had repeatedly divided considerably over twenty per cent., and there was little fear for the future, because the government had embarked on a great scheme of railway extension, requiring an unlimited amount of rails and rolling-stock. what better opening could be desired? certainly the opening seemed most attractive, and into it rushed the crowd of company promoters, followed by stock-jobbers and brokers, playing lively pieces of what the germans call zukunftsmusik. an unwary and confiding public, especially in belgium and france, listened to the enchanting strains of the financial syrens, and invested largely. quickly the number of completed ironworks in that region rose from nine to seventeen, and in the short space of three years the output of pig-iron was nearly doubled. in there were blast furnaces in working order, and ten more were in course of construction. and all this time the imperial revenue increased by leaps and bounds, so that the introduction of the gold currency was effected without difficulty. m. witte was declared to be the greatest minister of his time--a russian colbert or turgot, or perhaps the two rolled into one. then came a change. competition and over-production led naturally to a fall in prices, and at the same time the demand decreased, because the railway-building activity of the government slackened. alarmed at this state of things, the banks which had helped to start and foster the huge and costly enterprises contracted their credits. by the end of the disenchantment was general and widespread. some of the companies were so weighted by the preliminary financial obligations, and had conducted their affairs in such careless, reckless fashion, that they had soon to shut down their mines and close their works. even solid undertakings suffered. the shares of the briansk works, for example, which had given dividends as high as per cent., fell from to . the mamontof companies--supposed to be one of the strongest financial groups in the country--had to suspend payment, and numerous other failures occurred. nearly all the commercial banks, having directly participated in the industrial concerns, were rudely shaken. m. witte, who had been for a time the idol of a certain section of the financial world, became very unpopular, and was accused of misleading the investing public. among the accusations brought against him some at least could easily be refuted. he may have made mistakes in his policy, and may have been himself over-sanguine, but surely, as he subsequently replied to his accusers, it was no part of his duty to warn company promoters and directors that they should refrain from over-production, and that their enterprises might not be as remunerative as they expected. as to whether there is any truth in the assertion that he held out prospects of larger government orders than he actually gave, i cannot say. that he cut down prices, and showed himself a hard man to deal with, there seems no doubt. the reader may naturally be inclined to jump to the conclusion that the commercial crisis just referred to was the cause of m. witte's fall. such a conclusion would be entirely erroneous. the crisis happened in the winter of - , and m. witte remained finance minister until the autumn of . his fall was the result of causes of a totally different kind, and these i propose now to explain, because the explanation will throw light on certain very curious and characteristic conceptions at present current in the russian educated classes. of course there were certain causes of a purely personal kind, but i shall dismiss them in a very few words. i remember once asking a well-informed friend of m. witte's what he thought of him as an administrator and a statesman. the friend replied: "imagine a negro of the gold coast let loose in modern european civilisation!" this reply, like most epigrammatic remarks, is a piece of gross exaggeration, but it has a modicum of truth in it. in the eyes of well-trained russian officials m. witte was a titanic, reckless character, capable at any moment of playing the part of the bull in the china-shop. as a masterful person, brusque in manner and incapable of brooking contradiction, he had made for himself many enemies; and his restless, irrepressible energy had led him to encroach on the provinces of all his colleagues. possessing as he did the control of the purse, his interference could not easily be resisted. the ministers of interior, war, agriculture, public works, public instruction, and foreign affairs had all occasion to complain of his incursions into their departments. in contrast to his colleagues, he was not only extremely energetic, but he was ever ready to assume an astounding amount of responsibility; and as he was something of an opportunist, he was perhaps not always quixotically scrupulous in the choice of expedients for attaining his ends. altogether m. witte was an inconvenient personage in an administration in which strong personality is regarded as entirely out of place, and in which personal initiative is supposed to reside exclusively in the tsar. in addition to all this he was a man who felt keenly, and when he was irritated he did not always keep the unruly member under strict control. if i am correctly informed, it was some imprudent and not very respectful remarks, repeated by a subordinate and transmitted by a grand duke to the tsar, which were the immediate cause of his transfer from the influential post of minister of finance to the ornamental position of president of the council of ministers; but that was merely the proverbial last straw that broke the camel's back. his position was already undermined, and it is the undermining process which i wish to describe. the first to work for his overthrow were the agrarian conservatives. they could not deny that, from the purely fiscal point of view, his administration was a marvellous success; for he was rapidly doubling the revenue, and he had succeeded in replacing the fluctuating depreciated paper currency by a gold coinage; but they maintained that he was killing the goose that laid the golden eggs. evidently the tax-paying power of the rural classes was being overstrained, for they were falling more and more into arrears in the payment of their taxes, and their impoverishment was yearly increasing. all their reserves had been exhausted, as was shown by the famines of - , when the government had to spend hundreds of millions to feed them. whilst the land was losing its fertility, those who had to live by it were increasing in numbers at an alarming rate. already in some districts one-fifth of the peasant households had no longer any land of their own, and of those who still possessed land a large proportion had no longer the cattle and horses necessary to till and manure their allotments. no doubt m. witte was beginning to perceive his mistake, and had done something to palliate the evils by improving the system of collecting the taxes and abolishing the duty on passports, but such merely palliative remedies could have little effect. while a few capitalists were amassing gigantic fortunes, the masses were slowly and surely advancing to the brink of starvation. the welfare of the agriculturists, who constitute nine-tenths of the whole population, was being ruthlessly sacrificed, and for what? for the creation of a manufacturing industry which rested on an artificial, precarious basis, and which had already begun to decline. so far the agrarians, who champion the interests of the agricultural classes. their views were confirmed and their arguments strengthened by an influential group of men whom i may call, for want of a better name, the philosophers or doctrinaire interpreters of history, who have, strange to say, more influence in russia than in any other country. the russian educated classes desire that the nation should be wealthy and self-supporting, and they recognise that for this purpose a large manufacturing industry is required; but they are reluctant to make the sacrifices necessary to attain the object in view, and they imagine that, somehow or other, these sacrifices may be avoided. sympathising with this frame of mind, the doctrinaires explain that the rich and prosperous countries of europe and america obtained their wealth and prosperity by so-called "capitalism"--that is to say, by a peculiar social organisation in which the two main factors are a small body of rich capitalists and manufacturers and an enormous pauper proletariat living from hand to mouth, at the mercy of the heartless employers of labour. russia has lately followed in the footsteps of those wealthy countries, and if she continues to do so she will inevitably be saddled with the same disastrous results--plutocracy, pauperism, unrestrained competition in all spheres of activity, and a greatly intensified struggle for life, in which the weaker will necessarily go to the wall.* * free competition in all spheres of activity, leading to social inequality, plutocracy, and pauperism, is the favourite bugbear of russian theorists; and who is not a theorist in russia? the fact indicates the prevalence of socialist ideas in the educated classes. happily there is, according to these theorists, a more excellent way, and russia can adopt it if she only remains true to certain mysterious principles of her past historic development. without attempting to expound those mysterious principles, to which i have repeatedly referred in previous chapters, i may mention briefly that the traditional patriarchal institutions on which the theorists found their hopes of a happy social future for their country are the rural commune, the native home-industries, and the peculiar co-operative institutions called artels. how these remnants of a semi-patriarchal state of society are to be practically developed in such a way as to withstand the competition of manufacturing industry organised on modern "capitalist" lines, no one has hitherto been able to explain satisfactorily, but many people indulge in ingenious speculations on the subject, like children planning the means of diverting with their little toy spades a formidable inundation. in my humble opinion, the whole theory is a delusion; but it is held firmly--i might almost say fanatically--by those who, in opposition to the indiscriminate admirers of west-european and american civilisation, consider themselves genuine russians and exceptionally good patriots. m. witte has never belonged to that class. he believes that there is only one road to national prosperity--the road by which western europe has travelled--and along this road he tried to drive his country as rapidly as possible. he threw himself, therefore, heart and soul into what his opponents call "capitalism," by raising state loans, organising banks and other credit institutions, encouraging the creation and extension of big factories, which must inevitably destroy the home industry, and even--horribile dictu!--undermining the rural commune, and thereby adding to the ranks of the landless proletariat, in order to increase the amount of cheap labour for the benefit of the capitalists. with the arguments thus supplied by agrarians and doctrinaires, quite honest and well-meaning, according to their lights, it was easy to sap m. witte's position. among his opponents, the most formidable was the late m. plehve, minister of interior--a man of a totally different stamp. a few months before his tragic end i had a long and interesting conversation with him, and i came away deeply impressed. having repeatedly had conversations of a similar kind with m. witte, i could compare, or rather contrast, the two men. both of them evidently possessed an exceptional amount of mental power and energy, but in the one it was volcanic, and in the other it was concentrated and thoroughly under control. in discussion, the one reminded me of the self-taught, slashing swordsman; the other of the dexterous fencer, carefully trained in the use of the foils, who never launches out beyond the point at which he can quickly recover himself. as to whether m. plehve was anything more than a bold, energetic, clever official there may be differences of opinion, but he certainly could assume the airs of a profound and polished statesman, capable of looking at things from a much higher point of view than the ordinary tchinovnik, and he had the talent of tacitly suggesting that a great deal of genuine, enlightened statesmanship lay hidden under the smooth surface of his cautious reserve. once or twice i could perceive that when criticising the present state of things he had his volcanic colleague in his mind's eye; but the covert allusions were so vague and so carefully worded that the said colleague, if he had been present, would hardly have been justified in entering a personal protest. a statesman of the higher type, i was made to feel, should deal not with personalities, but with things, and it would be altogether unbecoming to complain of a colleague in presence of an outsider. thus his attitude towards his opponent was most correct, but it was not difficult to infer that he had little sympathy with the policy of the ministry of finance. from other sources i learned the cause of this want of sympathy. being minister of interior, and having served long in the police department, m. plehve considered that his first duty was the maintenance of public order and the protection of the person and autocracy of his august master. he was therefore the determined enemy of revolutionary tendencies, in whatever garb or disguise they might appear; and as a statesman he had to direct his attention to everything likely to increase those tendencies in the future. now it seemed that in the financial policy which had been followed for some years there were germs of future revolutionary fermentation. the peasantry were becoming impoverished, and were therefore more likely to listen to the insidious suggestions of socialist agitators; and already agrarian disturbances had occurred in the provinces of kharkof and poltava. the industrial proletariat which was being rapidly created was being secretly organised by the revolutionary social democrats, and already there had been serious labour troubles in some of the large towns. for any future revolutionary movement the proletariat would naturally supply recruits. then, at the other end of the social scale, a class of rich capitalists was being created, and everybody who has read a little history knows that a rich and powerful tiers etat cannot be permanently conciliated with autocracy. though himself neither an agrarian nor a slavophil doctrinaire, m. plehve could not but have a certain sympathy with those who were forging thunderbolts for the official annihilation of m. witte. he was too practical a man to imagine that the hands on the dial of economic progress could be set back and a return made to moribund patriarchal institutions; but he thought that at least the pace might be moderated. the minister of finance need not be in such a desperate, reckless hurry, and it was desirable to create conservative forces which might counteract the revolutionary forces which his impulsive colleague was inadvertently calling into existence. some of the forgers of thunderbolts went a great deal further, and asserted or insinuated that m. witte was himself consciously a revolutionist, with secret, malevolent intentions. in support of their insinuations they cited certain cases in which well-known socialists had been appointed professors in academies under the control of the ministry of finance, and they pointed to the peasant bank, which enjoyed m. witte's special protection. at first it had been supposed that the bank would have an anti-revolutionary influence by preventing the formation of a landless proletariat and increasing the number of small land-owners, who are always and everywhere conservative so far as the rights of private property are concerned. unfortunately its success roused the fears of the more conservative section of the landed proprietors. these gentlemen, as i have already mentioned, pointed out that the estates of the nobles were rapidly passing into the hands of the peasantry, and that if this process were allowed to continue the hereditary noblesse, which had always been the civilising element in the rural population, and the surest support of the throne, would drift into the towns and there sink into poverty or amalgamate with the commercial plutocracy, and help to form a tiers etat which would be hostile to the autocratic power. in these circumstances it was evident that the headstrong minister of finance could maintain his position only so long as he enjoyed the energetic support of the emperor, and this support, for reasons which i have indicated above, failed him at the critical moment. when his work was still unfinished he was suddenly compelled, by the emperor's command, to relinquish his post and accept a position in which, it was supposed, he would cease to have any influence in the administration. thus fell the russian colbert-turgot, or whatever else he may be called. whether financial difficulties in the future will lead to his reinstatement as minister of finance remains to be seen; but in any case his work cannot be undone. he has increased manufacturing industry to an unprecedented extent, and, as m. plehve perceived, the industrial proletariat which manufacturing industry on capitalist lines always creates has provided a new field of activity for the revolutionists. i return, therefore, to the evolution of the revolutionary movement in order to describe its present phase, the first-fruits of which have been revealed in the labour disturbances in st. petersburg and other industrial centres. chapter xxxvii the revolutionary movement in its latest phase influence of capitalism and proletariat on the revolutionary movement--what is to be done?--reply of plekhanof--a new departure--karl marx's theories applied to russia--beginnings of a social democratic movement--the labour troubles of - in st. petersburg--the social democrats' plan of campaign--schism in the party--trade-unionism and political agitation--the labour troubles of --how the revolutionary groups are differentiated from each other--social democracy and constitutionalism--terrorism--the socialist revolutionaries--the militant organisation--attitude of the government--factory legislation--government's scheme for undermining social democracy--father gapon and his labour association--the great strike in st. petersburg--father gapon goes over to the revolutionaries. the development of manufacturing industry on capitalist lines, and the consequent formation of a large industrial proletariat, produced great disappointment in all the theorising sections of the educated classes. the thousands of men and women who had, since the accession of the tsar-emancipator in , taken a keen, enthusiastic interest in the progress of their native country, all had believed firmly that in some way or other russia would escape "the festering sores of western civilisation." now experience had proved that the belief was an illusion, and those who had tried to check the natural course of industrial progress were constrained to confess that their efforts had been futile. big factories were increasing in size and numbers, while cottage industries were disappearing or falling under the power of middlemen, and the artels had not advanced a step in their expected development. the factory workers, though all of peasant origin, were losing their connection with their native villages and abandoning their allotments of the communal land. they were becoming, in short, a hereditary caste in the town population, and the pleasant slavophil dream of every factory worker having a house in the country was being rudely dispelled. nor was there any prospect of a change for the better in the future. with the increase of competition among the manufacturers, the uprooting of the muzhik from the soil must go on more and more rapidly, because employers must insist more and more on having thoroughly trained operatives ready to work steadily all the year round. this state of things had a curious effect on the course of the revolutionary movement. let me recall very briefly the successive stages through which the movement had already passed. it had been inaugurated, as we have seen, by the nihilists, the ardent young representatives of a "storm-and-stress" period, in which the venerable traditions and respected principles of the past were rejected and ridiculed, and the newest ideas of western europe were eagerly adopted and distorted. like the majority of their educated countrymen, they believed that in the race of progress russia was about to overtake and surpass the nations of the west, and that this desirable result was to be attained by making a tabula rasa of existing institutions, and reconstructing society according to the plans of proudhon, fourier, and the other writers of the early socialist school. when the nihilists had expended their energies and exhausted the patience of the public in theorising, talking, and writing, a party of action came upon the scene. like the nihilists, they desired political, social, and economic reforms of the most thorough-going kind, but they believed that such things could not be effected by the educated classes alone, and they determined to call in the co-operation of the people. for this purpose they tried to convert the masses to the gospel of socialism. hundreds of them became missionaries and "went in among the people." but the gospel of socialism proved unintelligible to the uneducated, and the more ardent, incautious missionaries fell into the hands of the police. those of them who escaped, perceiving the error of their ways, but still clinging to the hope of bringing about a political, social, and economic revolution, determined to change their tactics. the emancipated serf had shown himself incapable of "prolonged revolutionary activity," but there was reason to believe that he was, like his forefathers in the time of stenka razin and pugatcheff, capable of rising and murdering his oppressors. he must be used, therefore, for the destruction of the autocratic power and the bureaucracy, and then it would be easy to reorganise society on a basis of universal equality, and to take permanent precautions against capitalism and the creation of a proletariat. the hopes of the agitators proved as delusive as those of the propagandists. the muzhik turned a deaf ear to their instigations, and the police soon prevented their further activity. thus the would-be root-and-branch reforms found themselves in a dilemma. either they must abandon their schemes for the moment or they must strike immediately at their persecutors. they chose, as we have seen, the latter alternative, and after vain attempts to frighten the government by acts of terrorism against zealous officials, they assassinated the tsar himself; but before they had time to think of the constructive part of their task, their organisation was destroyed by the autocratic power and the bureaucracy, and those of them who escaped arrest had to seek safety in emigration to switzerland and paris. then arose, all along the line of the defeated, decimated revolutionists, the cry, "what is to be done?" some replied that the shattered organisation should be reconstructed, and a number of secret agents were sent successively from switzerland for this purpose. but their efforts, as they themselves confessed, were fruitless, and despondency seemed to be settling down permanently on all, except a few fanatics, when a voice was heard calling on the fugitives to rally round a new banner and carry on the struggle by entirely new methods. the voice came from a revolutionologist (if i may use such a term) of remarkable talent, called m. plekhanof, who had settled in geneva with a little circle of friends, calling themselves the "labour emancipation group." his views were expounded in a series of interesting publications, the first of which was a brochure entitled "socialism and the political struggle," published in . according to m. plekhanof and his group the revolutionary movement had been conducted up to that moment on altogether wrong lines. all previous revolutionary groups had acted on the assumption that the political revolution and the economic reorganisation of society must be effected simultaneously, and consequently they had rejected contemptuously all proposals for reforms, however radical, of a merely political kind. these had been considered, as i have mentioned in a previous chapter, not only as worthless, but as positively prejudicial to the interests of the working classes, because so-called political liberties and parliamentary government would be sure to consolidate the domination of the bourgeoisie. that such has generally been the immediate effect of parliamentary institutions is undeniable, but it did not follow that the creation of such institutions should be opposed. on the contrary, they ought to be welcomed, not merely because, as some revolutionists had already pointed out, propaganda and agitation could be more easily carried on under a constitutional regime, but because constitutionalism is certainly the most convenient, and perhaps the only, road by which the socialistic ideal can ultimately be attained. this is a dark saying, but it will become clearer when i have explained, according to the new apostles, a second error into which their predecessors had fallen. that second error was the assumption that all true friends of the people, whether conservatives, liberals, or revolutionaries, ought to oppose to the utmost the development of capitalism. in the light of karl marx's discoveries in economic science every one must recognise this to be an egregious mistake. that great authority, it was said, had proved that the development of capitalism was irresistible, and his conclusions had been confirmed by the recent history of russia, for all the economic progress made during the last half century had been on capitalist lines. even if it were possible to arrest the capitalist movement, it is not desirable from the revolutionary point of view. in support of this thesis karl marx is again cited. he has shown that capitalism, though an evil in itself, is a necessary stage of economic and social progress. at first it is prejudicial to the interests of the working classes, but in the long run it benefits them, because the ever-growing proletariat must, whether it desires it or not, become a political party, and as a political party it must one day break the domination of the bourgeoisie. as soon as it has obtained the predominant political power, it will confiscate, for the public good, the instruments of production--factories, foundries, machines, etc.--by expropriating the capitalist. in this way all the profits which accrue from production on a large scale, and which at present go into the pockets of the capitalists, will be distributed equally among the workmen. thus began a new phase of the revolutionary movement, and, like all previous phases, it remained for some years in the academic stage, during which there were endless discussions on theoretical and practical questions. lavroff, the prophet of the old propaganda, treated the new ideas "with grandfatherly severity," and tikhomirof, the leading representative of the moribund narodnaya volya, which had prepared the acts of terrorism, maintained stoutly that the west european methods recommended by plekhanof were inapplicable to russia. the plekhanof group replied in a long series of publications, partly original and partly translations from marx and engels, explaining the doctrines and aims of the social democrats. seven years were spent in this academic literary activity--a period of comparative repose for the russian secret police--and about the propagandists of the new school began to work cautiously in st. petersburg. at first they confined themselves to forming little secret circles for making converts, and they found that the ground had been to some extent prepared for the seed which they had to sow. the workmen were discontented, and some of the more intelligent amongst them who had formerly been in touch with the propagandists of the older generation had learned that there was an ingenious and effective means of getting their grievances redressed. how was that possible? by combination and strikes. for the uneducated workers this was an important discovery, and they soon began to put the suggested remedy to a practical test. in the autumn of labour troubles broke out in the nevski engineering works and the arsenal, and in the following year in the thornton factory and the cigarette works. in all these strikes the social democratic agents took part behind the scenes. avoiding the main errors of the old propagandists, who had offered the workmen merely abstract socialist theories which no uneducated person could reasonably be expected to understand, they adopted a more rational method. though impervious to abstract theories, the russian workman is not at all insensible to the prospect of bettering his material condition and getting his everyday grievances redressed. of these grievances the ones he felt most keenly were the long hours, the low wages, the fines arbitrarily imposed by the managers, and the brutal severity of the foreman. by helping him to have these grievances removed the social democratic agents might gain his confidence, and when they had come to be regarded by him as his real friends they might widen his sympathies and teach him to feel that his personal interests were identical with the interests of the working classes as a whole. in this way it would be possible to awaken in the industrial proletariat generally a sort of esprit de corps, which is the first condition of political organisation. on these lines the agents set to work. having formed themselves into a secret association called the "union for the emancipation of the working classes," they gradually abandoned the narrow limits of coterie-propaganda, and prepared the way for agitation on a larger scale. among the discontented workmen they distributed a large number of carefully written tracts, in which the material grievances were formulated, and the whole political system, with its police, gendarmes, cossacks, and tax-gathers, was criticised in no friendly spirit, but without violent language. in introducing into the programme this political element, great caution had to be exercised, because the workmen did not yet perceive clearly any close connection between their grievances and the existing political institutions, and those of them who belonged to the older generation regarded the tsar as the incarnation of disinterested benevolence. bearing this in mind, the union circulated a pamphlet for the enlightenment of the labouring population, in which the writer refrained from all reference to the autocratic power, and described simply the condition of the labouring classes, the heavy burdens they had to bear, the abuses of which they were the victims, and the inconsiderate way in which they were treated by their employers. this pamphlet was eagerly read, and from that moment whenever labour troubles arose the men applied to the social democratic agents to assist them in formulating their grievances. of course, the assistance had to be given secretly, because there were always police spies in the factories, and all persons suspected of aiding the labour movement were liable to be arrested and exiled. in spite of this danger the work was carried on with great energy, and in the summer of the field of operations was extended. during the coronation ceremonies of that year the factories and workshops in st. petersburg were closed, and the men considered that for these days they ought to receive wages as usual. when their demand was refused, , of them went out on strike. the social democratic union seized the opportunity and distributed tracts in large quantities. for the first time such tracts were read aloud at workmen's meetings and applauded by the audience. the union encouraged the workmen in their resistance, but advised them to refrain from violence, so as not to provoke the intervention of the police and the military, as they had imprudently done on some previous occasions. when the police did intervene and expelled some of the strike-leaders from st. petersburg, the agitators had an excellent opportunity of explaining that the authorities were the protectors of the employers and the enemies of the working classes. these explanations counteracted the effect of an official proclamation to the workmen, in which m. witte tried to convince them that the tsar was constantly striving to improve their condition. the struggle was decided, not by arguments and exhortations, but by a more potent force; having no funds for continuing the strike, the men were compelled by starvation to resume work. this is the point at which the labour movement began to be conducted on a large scale and by more systematic methods. in the earlier labour troubles the strikers had not understood that the best means of bringing pressure on employers was simply to refuse to work, and they had often proceeded to show their dissatisfaction by ruthlessly destroying their employers' property. this had brought the police, and sometimes the military, on the scene, and numerous arrests had followed. another mistake made by the inexperienced strikers was that they had neglected to create a reserve fund from which they could draw the means of subsistence when they no longer received wages and could no longer obtain credit at the factory provision store. efforts were now made to correct these two mistakes, and with regard to the former they were fairly successful, for wanton destruction of property ceased to be a prominent feature of labour troubles; but strong reserve funds have not yet been created, so that the strikes have never been of long duration. though the strikes had led, so far, to no great practical, tangible results, the new ideas and aspirations were spreading rapidly in the factories and workshops, and they had already struck such deep root that some of the genuine workmen wished to have a voice in the managing committee of the union, which was composed exclusively of educated men. when a request to that effect was rejected by the committee a lengthy discussion took place, and it soon became evident that underneath the question of organisation lay a most important question of principle. the workmen wished to concentrate their efforts on the improvement of their material condition, and to proceed on what we should call trade-unionist lines, whereas the committee wished them to aim also at the acquisition of political rights. great determination was shown on both sides. an attempt of the workmen to maintain a secret organ of their own with the view of emancipating themselves from the "politicals" ended in failure; but they received sympathy and support from some of the educated members of the party, and in this way a schism took place in the social democrat camp. after repeated ineffectual attempts to find a satisfactory compromise, the question was submitted to a congress which was held in switzerland in ; but the discussions merely accentuated the differences of opinion, and the two parties constituted themselves into separate independent groups. the one under the leadership of plekhanof, and calling itself the revolutionary social democrats, held to the marx doctrines in all their extent and purity, and maintained the necessity of constant agitation in the political sense. the other, calling itself the union of foreign social democrats, inclined to the trade-unionism programme, and proclaimed the necessity of being guided by political expediency rather than inflexible dogmas. between the two a wordy warfare was carried on for some time in pedantic, technical language; but though habitually brandishing their weapons and denouncing their antagonists in true homeric style, they were really allies, struggling towards a common end--two sections of the social democratic party differing from each other on questions of tactics. the two divergent tendencies have often reappeared in the subsequent history of the movement. during ordinary peaceful times the economic or trade-unionist tendency can generally hold its own, but as soon as disturbances occur and the authorities have to intervene, the political current quickly gains the upper hand. this was exemplified in the labour troubles which took place at rostoff-on-the-don in . during the first two days of the strike the economic demands alone were put forward, and in the speeches which were delivered at the meetings of workmen no reference was made to political grievances. on the third day one orator ventured to speak disrespectfully of the autocratic power, but he thereby provoked signs of dissatisfaction in the audiences. on the fifth and following days, however, several political speeches were made, ending with the cry of "down with tsarism!" and a crowd of , workmen agreed with the speakers. thereafter occurred similar strikes in odessa, the caucasus, kief, and central russia, and they had all a political rather than a purely economic character. i must now endeavour to explain clearly the point of view and plan of campaign of this new movement, which i may call the revolutionary renaissance. the ultimate aim of the new reformers was the same as that of all their predecessors--the thorough reorganisation of society on socialistic principles. according to their doctrines, society as at present constituted consists of two great classes, called variously the exploiters and the exploited, the shearers and the shorn, the capitalists and the workers, the employers and the employed, the tyrants and the oppressed; and this unsatisfactory state of things must go on so long as the so-called bourgeois or capitalist regime continues to exist. in the new heaven and the new earth of which the socialist dreams this unjust distinction is to disappear; all human beings are to be equally free and independent, all are to cooperate spontaneously with brains and hands to the common good, and all are to enjoy in equal shares the natural and artificial good things of this life. so far there has never been any difference of opinion among the various groups of russian thorough-going revolutionists. all of them, from the antiquated nihilist down to the social democrat of the latest type, have held these views. what has differentiated them from each other is the greater or less degree of impatience to realise the ideal. the most impatient were the anarchists, who grouped themselves around bakunin. they wished to overthrow immediately by a frontal attack all existing forms of government and social organisation, in the hope that chance, or evolution, or natural instinct, or sudden inspiration or some other mysterious force, would create something better. they themselves declined to aid this mysterious force even by suggestions, on the ground that, as one of them has said, "to construct is not the business of the generation whose duty is to destroy." notwithstanding the strong impulsive element in the national character, the reckless, ultra-impatient doctrinaires never became numerous, and never succeeded in forming an organised group, probably because the young generation in russia were too much occupied with the actual and future condition of their own country to embark on schemes of cosmopolitan anarchism such as bakunin recommended. next in the scale of impatience came the group of believers in socialist agitation among the masses, with a view to overturning the existing government and putting themselves in its place as soon as the masses were sufficiently organised to play the part destined for them. between them and the anarchists the essential points of difference were that they admitted the necessity of some years of preparation, and they intended, when the government was overturned, not to preserve indefinitely the state of anarchy, but to put in the place of autocracy, limited monarchy, or the republic, a strong, despotic government thoroughly imbued with socialistic principles. as soon as it had laid firmly the foundations of the new order of things it was to call a national assembly, from which it was to receive, i presume, a bill of indemnity for the benevolent tyranny which it had temporarily exercised. impatience a few degrees less intense produced the next group, the partisans of pacific socialist propaganda. they maintained that there was no necessity for overthrowing the old order of things till the masses had been intellectually prepared for the new, and they objected to the foundation of the new regime being laid by despots, however well-intentioned in the socialist sense. the people must be made happy and preserved in a state of happiness by the people themselves. in the last place came the least impatient of all, the social democrats, who differ widely from all the preceding categories. all previous revolutionary groups had systematically rejected the idea of a gradual transition from the bourgeois to the socialist regime. they would not listen to any suggestion about a constitutional monarchy or a democratic republic even as a mere intermediate stage of social development. all such things, as part and parcel of the bourgeois system, were anathematised. there must be no half-way houses between present misery and future happiness; for many weary travellers might be tempted to settle there in the desert, and fail to reach the promised land. "ever onward" should be the watchword, and no time should be wasted on the foolish struggles of political parties and the empty vanities of political life. not thus thought the social democrat. he was much wiser in his generation. having seen how the attempts of the impatient groups had ended in disaster, and knowing that, if they had succeeded, the old effete despotism would probably have been replaced by a young, vigorous one more objectionable than its predecessor, he determined to try a more circuitous but surer road to the goal which the impatient people had in view. in his opinion the distance from the present russian regime protected by autocracy to the future socialist paradise was far too great to be traversed in a single stage, and he knew of one or two comfortable rest-houses on the way. first there was the rest-house of constitutionalism, with parliamentary institutions. for some years the bourgeoisie would doubtless have a parliamentary majority, but gradually, by persistent effort, the fourth estate would gain the upper hand, and then the socialist millennium might be proclaimed. meanwhile, what had to be done was to gain the confidence of the masses, especially of the factory workers, who were more intelligent and less conservative than the peasantry, and to create powerful labour organisations as material for a future political party. this programme implied, of course, a certain unity of action with the constitutionalists, from whom, as i have said, the revolutionists of the old school had stood sternly aloof. there was now no question of a formal union, and certainly no idea of a "union of hearts," because the socialists knew that their ultimate aim would be strenuously opposed by the liberals, and the liberals knew that an attempt was being made to use them as a cat's-paw; but there seemed to be no reason why they of the two groups should not observe towards each other a benevolent neutrality, and march side by side as far as the half-way house, where they could consider the conditions of the further advance. when i first became acquainted with the russian social democrats i imagined that their plan of campaign was of a purely pacific character; and that they were, unlike their predecessors, an evolutionary, as distinguished from a revolutionary, party. subsequently i discovered that this conception was not quite accurate. in ordinary quiet times they use merely pacific methods, and they feel that the proletariat is not yet sufficiently prepared, intellectually and politically, to assume the great responsibilities which are reserved for it in the future. moreover, when the moment comes for getting rid of the autocratic power, they would prefer a gradual process of liquidation to a sudden cataclysm. so far they may be said to be evolutionaries rather than revolutionaries, but their plan of campaign does not entirely exclude violence. they would not consider it their duty to oppose the use of violence on the part of the more impatient sections of the revolutionists, and they would have no scruples about utilising disturbances for the attainment of their own end. public agitation, which is always likely in russia to provoke violent repression by the authorities, they regard as necessary for keeping alive and strengthening the spirit of opposition; and when force is used by the police they approve of the agitators using force in return. to acts of terrorism, however, they are opposed on principle. who, then, are the terrorists, who have assassinated so many great personages, including the grand duke serge? in reply to this question i must introduce the reader to another group of the revolutionists who have usually been in hostile, rather than friendly, relations with the social democrats, and who call themselves the socialist-revolutionaries (sotsialisty-revolutsionery). it will be remembered that the terrorist group, commonly called narodnaya volya, or narodovoltsi, which succeeded in assassinating alexander ii., were very soon broken up by the police and most of the leading members were arrested. a few escaped, of whom some remained in the country and others emigrated to switzerland or paris, and efforts at reorganisation were made, especially in the southern and western provinces, but they proved ineffectual. at last, sobered by experience and despairing of further success, some of the prisoners and a few of the exiles--notably tikhomirof, who was regarded as the leader--made their peace with the government, and for some years terrorism seemed to be a thing of the past. passing through russia on my way home from india and central asia at that time, i came to the conclusion that the young generation had recovered from its prolonged attack of brain-fever, and had entered on a more normal, tranquil, and healthy period of existence. my expectations proved too optimistic. about the narodnaya volya came to life again, with all its terrorist traditions intact; and shortly afterwards appeared the new group which i have just mentioned, the socialist-revolutionaries, with somewhat similar principles and a better organisation. for some seven or eight years the two groups existed side by side, and then the narodnaya volya disappeared, absorbed probably by its more powerful rival. during the first years of their existence neither group was strong enough to cause the government serious inconvenience, and it was not till - that they found means of issuing manifestos and programmes. in these the narodovoltsi declared that their immediate aims were the annihilation of autocracy, the convocation of a national assembly and the reorganisation of the empire on the principles of federation and local self-government, and that for the attainment of these objects the means to be employed should include popular insurrections, military conspiracies, bombs and dynamite. very similar, though ostensibly a little more eclectic, was the programme of the socialist-revolutionaries. their ultimate aim was declared to be the transfer of political authority from the autocratic power to the people, the abolition of private property in the means of production, and in general the reorganisation of national life on socialist principles. on certain points they were at one with the social democrats. they recognised, for example, that the social reorganisation must be preceded by a political revolution, that much preparatory work was necessary, and that attention should be directed first to the industrial proletariat as the most intelligent section of the masses. on the other hand they maintained that it was a mistake to confine the revolutionary activity to the working classes of the towns, who were not strong enough to overturn the autocratic power. the agitation ought, therefore, to be extended to the peasantry, who were quite "developed" enough to understand at least the idea of land-nationalisation; and for the carrying out of this part of the programme a special organisation was created. with so many opinions in common, it seemed at one moment as if the social democrats and the socialist-revolutionaries might unite their forces for a combined attack on the government; but apart from the mutual jealousy and hatred which so often characterise revolutionary as well as religious sects, they were prevented from coalescing, or even cordially co-operating, by profound differences both in doctrine and in method. the social democrats are essentially doctrinaires. thorough-going disciples of karl marx, they believed in what they consider the immutable laws of social progress, according to which the socialistic ideal can be reached only through capitalism; and the intermediate political revolution, which is to substitute the will of the people for the autocratic power, must be effected by the conversion and organisation of the industrial proletariat. with the spiritual pride of men who feel themselves to be the incarnations or avatars of immutable law, they are inclined to look down with something very like contempt on mere empirics who are ignorant of scientific principles and are guided by considerations of practical expediency. the social-revolutionaries seem to them to be empirics of this kind because they reject the tenets, or at least deny the infallibility, of the marx school, cling to the idea of partially resisting the overwhelming influence of capitalism in russia, hope that the peasantry will play at least a secondary part in bringing about the political revolution, and are profoundly convinced that the advent of political liberty may be greatly accelerated by the use of terrorism. on this last point they stated their views very frankly in a pamphlet which they published in under the title of "our task" (nasha zadatcha). it is there said: "one of the powerful means of struggle, dictated by our revolutionary past and present, is political terrorism, consisting of the annihilation of the most injurious and influential personages of russian autocracy in given conditions. systematic terrorism, in conjunction with other forms of open mass-struggle (industrial riots and agrarian risings, demonstrations, etc.), which receive from terrorism an enormous, decisive significance, will lead to the disorganisation of the enemy. terrorist activity will cease only with the victory over autocracy and the complete attainment of political liberty. besides its chief significance as a means of disorganising, terrorist activity will serve at the same time as a means of propaganda and agitation, a form of open struggle taking place before the eyes of the whole people, undermining the prestige of government authority, and calling into life new revolutionary forces, while the oral and literary propaganda is being continued without interruption. lastly, the terrorist activity serves for the whole secret revolutionary party as a means of self-defence and of protecting the organisation against the injurious elements of spies and treachery." in accordance with this theory a "militant organisation" (boevaga organisatsia) was formed and soon set to work with revolvers and bombs. first an attempt was made on the life of pobedonostsef; then the minister of the interior, sipiagin, was assassinated; next attempts were made on the lives of the governors of vilna and kharkof, and the kharkof chief of police; and since that time the governor of ufa, the vice-governor of elizabetpol, the minister of the interior, m. plehve, and the grand duke serge have fallen victims to the terrorist policy.* * in this list i have not mentioned the assassination of m. bogolyepof, minister of public instruction, in , because i do not know whether it should be attributed to the socialist-revolutionaries or to the narodovoltsi, who had not yet amalgamated with them. though the social democrats have no sentimental squeamishness about bloodshed, they objected to this policy on the ground that acts of terrorism were unnecessary and were apt to prove injurious rather than beneficial to the revolutionist cause. one of the main objects of every intelligent revolutionary party should be to awaken all classes from their habitual apathy and induce them to take an active part in the political movement; but terrorism must have a contrary effect by suggesting that political freedom is to be attained, not by the steady pressure and persevering cooperation of the people, but by startling, sensational acts of individual heroism. the efforts of these two revolutionary parties, as well as of minor groups, to get hold of the industrial proletariat did not escape the notice of the authorities; and during the labour troubles of , on the suggestion of m. witte, the government had considered the question as to what should be done to counteract the influence of the agitators. on that question it had no difficulty in coming to a decision; the condition of the working classes must be improved. an expert official was accordingly instructed to write a report on what had already been done in that direction. in his report it was shown that the government had long been thinking about the subject. not to speak of a still-born law about a ten-hour day for artisans, dating from the time of catherine ii., an imperial commission had been appointed as early as , but nothing practical came of its deliberations until , when legislative measures were taken for the protection of women and children in factories. a little later ( ) other grievances were dealt with and partly removed by regulating contracts of hire, providing that the money derived from deductions and fines should not be appropriated by the employers, and creating a staff of factory inspectors who should take care that the benevolent intentions of the government were duly carried out. having reviewed all these official efforts in , the government passed in the following year a law prohibiting night work and limiting the working day to eleven and a half hours. this did not satisfy the workmen. their wages were still low, and it was difficult to get them increased because strikes and all forms of association were still, as they had always been, criminal offences. on this point the government remained firm so far as the law was concerned, but it gradually made practical concessions by allowing the workmen to combine for certain purposes. in , for example, in kharkof, the engineers' mutual aid society was sanctioned, and gradually it became customary to allow the workmen to elect delegates for the discussion of their grievances with the employers and inspectors. finding that these concessions did not check the growing influence of the social democratic agitators among the operatives, the government resolved to go a step further; it would organise the workers on purely trade-unionist lines, and would thereby combat the social democrats, who always advised the strikers to mix up political demands with their material grievances. the project seemed to have a good prospect of success, because there were many workmen, especially of the older generation, who did not at all like the mixing up of politics, which so often led to arrest, imprisonment and exile, with the practical concerns of every day life. the first attempt of the kind was made in moscow under the direction of a certain zubatof, chief of the secret police, who had been himself a revolutionary in his youth, and afterwards an agent provocateur. aided by tikhomirof, the repentant terrorist whom i have already mentioned, zubatof organised a large workmen's association, with reading-rooms, lectures, discussions and other attractions, and sought to convince the members that they should turn a deaf ear to the social democratic agents, and look only to the government for the improvement of their condition. in order to gain their sympathy and confidence, he instructed his subordinates to take the side of the workmen in all labour disputes, while he himself brought official pressure to bear on the employers. by this means he made a considerable number of converts, and for a time the association seemed to prosper, but he did not possess the extraordinary ability and tact required to play the complicated game successfully, and he committed the fatal mistake of using the office-bearers of the association as detectives for the discovery of the "evil-intentioned." this tactical error had its natural consequences. as soon as the workmen perceived that their professed benefactors were police spies, who did not obtain for them any real improvement of their condition, the popularity of the association rapidly declined. at the same time, the factory owners complained to the minister of finance that the police, who ought to be guardians of public order, and who had accused the factory inspectors of stirring up discontent in the labouring population, were themselves creating troubles by inciting the workmen to make inordinate demands. the minister of finance at the moment was m. witte, and the minister of interior, responsible for the acts of the police, was m. plehve, and between these two official dignitaries, who were already in very strained relations, zubatof's activity formed a new base of contention. in these circumstances it is not surprising that the very risky experiment came to an untimely end. in st. petersburg a similar experiment was made, and it ended much more tragically. there the chief rôle was played by a mysterious personage called father gapon, who acquired great momentary notoriety. though a genuine priest, he did not belong by birth, as most russian priests do, to the ecclesiastical caste. the son of a peasant in little russia, where the ranks of the clergy are not hermetically sealed against the other social classes, he aspired to take orders, and after being rusticated from a seminary for supposed sympathy with revolutionary ideas, he contrived to finish his studies and obtain ordination. during a residence in moscow he took part in the zubatof experiment, and when that badly conducted scheme collapsed he was transferred to st. petersburg and appointed chaplain to a large convict prison. his new professional duties did not prevent him from continuing to take a keen interest in the welfare of the working classes, and in the summer of he became, with the approval of the police authorities, president of a large labour union called the society of russian workmen, which had eleven sections in the various industrial suburbs of the capital. under his guidance the experiment proceeded for some months very successfully. he gained the sympathy and confidence of the workmen, and so long as no serious questions arose he kept his hold on them; but a storm was brewing and he proved unequal to the occasion. in the first days of , when the economic consequences of the war had come to be keenly felt, a spirit of discontent appeared among the labouring population of st. petersburg, and on sunday, january th--exactly a week before the famous sunday when the troops were called into play--a strike began in the putilof ironworks and spread like wildfire to the other big works in the neighbourhood. the immediate cause of the disturbance was the dismissal of some workmen and a demand on the part of the labour union that they should be reinstated. a deputation, composed partly of genuine workmen and partly of social democratic agitators, and led by gapon, negotiated with the managers of the putilof works, and failed to effect an arrangement. at this moment gapon tried hard to confine the negotiations to the points in dispute, whereas the agitators put forward demands of a wider kind, such as the eight-hour working day, and they gradually obtained his concurrence on condition that no political demands should be introduced into the programme. in defending this condition he was supported by the workmen, so that when agitators tried to make political speeches at the meetings they were unceremoniously expelled. a similar struggle between the "economists" and the "politicals" was going on in the other industrial suburbs, notably in the nevski quarter, where , operatives had struck work, and the social democrats were particularly active. in this section of the labour union the most influential member was a young workman called petroff, who was a staunch gaponist in the sense that he wished the workers to confine themselves to their own grievances and to resist the introduction of political demands. at first he succeeded in preventing the agitators from speaking at the meetings, but they soon proved too much for him. at one of the meetings on tuesday, when he happened to be absent, a social democrat contrived to get himself elected chairman, and from that moment the political agitators had a free hand. they had a regular organisation composed of an organiser, three "oratorical agitators," and several assistant-organisers who attended the small meetings in the operatives' sleeping-quarters. besides these there were a certain number of workmen already converted to social democratic principles who had learned the art of making political speeches. the reports of the agitators to the central organisation, written hurriedly during this eventful week, are extremely graphic and interesting. they declared that there is a frightful amount of work to be done and very few to do it. their stock of social democratic pamphlets is exhausted and they are hoarse from speech-making. in spite of their superhuman efforts the masses remain frightfully "undeveloped." the men willingly collect to hear the orators, listen to them attentively, express approval or dissent, and even put questions; but with all this they remain obstinately on the ground of their own immediate wants, such as the increase of wages and protection against brutal foremen, and they only hint vaguely at more serious demands. the agitators, however, are equally obstinate, and they make a few converts. to illustrate how conversions are made, the following incident is related. at one meeting the cry of "stop the war!" is raised by an orator without sufficient preparation, and at once a voice is heard in the audience saying. "no, no! the little japs (yaposhki) must be beaten!" thereupon a more experienced orator comes forward and a characteristic conversation takes place: "have we much land of our own, my friends?" asks the orator. "much!" replies the crowd. "do we require manchuria?" "no!" "who pays for the war?" "we do!" "are our brothers dying, and do your wives and children remain without a bit of bread?" "so it is!" say many, with a significant shake of the head. having succeeded so far, the orator tries to turn the popular indignation against the tsar by explaining that he is to blame for all this misery and suffering, but petroff suddenly appears on the scene and maintains that for the misery and suffering the tsar is not at all to blame, for he knows nothing about it. it is all the fault of his servants, the tchinovniks. by this device petroff suppresses the seditious cry of "down with autocracy!" which the social democrats were anxious to make the watchword of the movement, but he has thereby been drawn from his strong position of "no politics," and he is standing, as we shall see presently, on a slippery incline. on thursday and friday the activity of the leaders and the excitement of the masses increase. while the gaponists speak merely of local grievances and material wants, the social democrats incite their hearers to a political struggle, advising them to demand a constituent assembly, and explaining the necessity for all workmen to draw together and form a powerful political party. the haranguing goes on from morning to night, and agitators drive about from one factory to another to keep the excitement at fever-heat. the police, usually so active on such occasions, do not put in an appearance. prince sviatopolk mirski, the honest, well-intentioned, liberal minister of the interior, cannot make up his mind to act with energy, and lets things drift. the agitators themselves are astonished at this extraordinary inactivity. one of them, writing a few days afterwards, says: "the police was paralysed. it would have been easy to arrest gapon, and discover the orators. on friday the clubs might have been surrounded and the orators arrested. . . . in a word, decided measures might have been taken, but they were not." it is not only petroff that has abandoned his strong position of "no politics"; gapon is doing likewise. the movement has spread far beyond what he expected, and he is being carried away by the prevailing excitement. with all his benevolent intentions, he is of a nervous, excitable nature, and his besetting sin is vanity. he perceives that by resisting the social democrats he is losing his hold on the masses. early in the week, as we have seen, he began to widen his programme in the social democratic sense, and every day he makes new concessions. before the week is finished a social democratic orator can write triumphantly: "in three days we have transformed the gaponist assemblies into political meetings!" like petroff, gapon seeks to defend the tsar, and he falls into petroff's strategical mistake of pretending that the tsar knows nothing of the sufferings of his people. from that admission to the resolution that the tsar must somehow be informed personally and directly, by some means outside of the regular official channel, there is but one step, and that step is quickly taken. on friday morning gapon has determined to present with his own hands a petition to his majesty, and the petition is already drafted, containing demands which go far beyond workmen's grievances. after resisting the social democratic agitators so stoutly, he is now going over, bag and baggage, to the social democratic camp. this wonderful change was consummated on friday evening at a conference which he held with some delegates of the social democrats. from an account written by one of these delegates immediately after the meeting we get an insight into the worthy priest's character and motives. in the morning he had written to them: "i have , workmen, and i am going with them to the palace to present a petition. if it is not granted, we shall make a revolution. do you agree?" they did not like the idea, because the social democratic policy is to extort concessions, not to ask favours, and to refrain from anything that might increase the prestige of the autocratic power. in their reply, therefore, they consented simply to discuss the matter. i proceed now to quote from the delegate's account of what took place at the conference: "the company consisted of gapon, with two adherents, and five social democrats. all sat round a table, and the conversation began. gapon is a good-looking man, with dark complexion and thoughtful, sympathetic face. he is evidently very tired, and, like the other orators, he is hoarse. to the questions addressed to him, he replies: 'the masses are at present so electrified that you may lead them wherever you like. we shall go on sunday to the palace, and present a petition. if we are allowed to pass without hindrance, we shall march to the palace square, and summon the tsar from tsarskoe selo. we shall wait for him till the evening. when he arrives, i shall go to him with a deputation, and in presenting to him the petition, i shall say: 'your majesty! things cannot go on like this; it is time to give the people liberty.' (tak nelzya! para dat' narodu svobodu.) if he consents, we shall insist that he take an oath before the people. only then we shall come away, and when we begin to work, it will only be for eight hours a day. if, on the other hand, we are prevented from entering the city, we shall request and beg, and if they do not let us pass, we shall force our way. in the palace square we shall find troops, and we shall entreat them to come over to our side. if they beat us, we shall strike back. there will be sacrifices, but part of the troops will come over to us, and then, being ourselves strong in numbers, we shall make a revolution. we shall construct barricades, pillage the armourers' shops, break open the prisons, and seize the telephones and telegraphs. the socialist-revolutionaries have promised us bombs, and the democrats money: and we shall be victorious!* * this confirms the information which comes to me from other quarters that gapon was already in friendly relations with other revolutionary groups. "such, in a few words, were the ideas which gapon expounded. the impression he made on us was that he did not clearly realise where he was going. acting with sincerity, he was ready to die, but he was convinced that the troops would not fire, and that the deputation would be received by the emperor. he did not distinguish between different methods. though not at all a partisan of violent means, he had become infuriated against autocracy and the tsar, as was shown by his language when he said: 'if that blockhead of a tsar comes out' (yesli etot durak tsar vuidet) . . . burning with the desire to attain his object, he looked on revolution like a child, as if it could be accomplished in a day with empty hands!" knowing that no previous preparations had been made for a revolution such as gapon talked of, the social democratic agents tried to dissuade him from carrying out his idea on sunday, but he stood firm. he had already committed himself publicly to the project. at a workmen's meeting in another quarter (vassiliostrof) earlier in the day he had explained the petition, and said: "let us go to the winter palace and summon the emperor, and let us tell him our wants; if he does not listen to us we do not require him any longer." to a social democrat who shook him warmly by the hand and expressed his astonishment that there should be such a man among the clergy, he replied: "i am no longer a priest; i am a fighter for liberty! they want to exile me, and for some nights i have not slept at home." when offered assistance to escape arrest, he answered laconically: "thanks; i have already a place of refuge." after his departure from the meeting one of his friends, to whom he had confided a copy of the petition, rose and said: "now has arrived the great historical moment! now we can and must demand rights and liberty!" after hearing the petition read the meeting decided that if the tsar did not come out at the demand of the people strong measures should be taken, and one orator indicated pretty plainly what they should be: "we don't require a tsar who is deaf to the woes of the people; we shall perish ourselves, but we shall kill him. swear that you will all come to the palace on sunday at twelve o'clock!" the audience raised their hands in token of assent. finding it impossible to dissuade gapon from his purpose, the social democrats told him that they would take advantage of the circumstances independently, and that if he was allowed to enter the city with his deputation they would organise monster meetings in the palace square. the imperious tone used by gapon at the public meetings and private consultations was adopted by him also in his letters to the minister of the interior and to the emperor. to the former he wrote: "the workmen and inhabitants of st. petersburg of various classes desire to see the tsar at two o'clock on sunday in the winter palace square, in order to lay before him personally their needs and those of the whole russian people. . . . tell the tsar that i and the workmen, many thousands in number, have peacefully, with confidence in him, but irrevocably, resolved to proceed to the winter palace. let him show his confidence by deeds, and not by manifestos." to the tsar himself his language was not more respectful: "sovereign,--i fear the ministers have not told you the truth about the situation. the whole people, trusting in you, has resolved to appear at the winter palace at two o'clock in the afternoon, in order to inform you of its needs. if you hesitate, and do not appear before the people, then you tear the moral bonds between you and them. trust in you will disappear, because innocent blood will flow. appear to-morrow before your people and receive our address of devotion in a courageous spirit! i and the labour representatives, my brave comrades, guarantee the inviolability of your person." gapon was no longer merely the president of the workmen's union: inebriated with the excitement he had done so much to create, he now imagined himself the representative of the oppressed russian people, and the heroic leader of a great political revolution. in the petition which he had prepared he said little about the grievances of the st. petersburg workmen whose interests he had a right to advocate, and preferred to soar into much higher regions: "the bureaucracy has brought the country to the verge of ruin, and, by a shameful war, is bringing it to its downfall. we have no voice in the heavy burdens imposed on us; we do not even know for whom or why this money is wrung from the impoverished people, and we do not know how it is expended. this state of things is contrary to the divine laws, and renders life unbearable. assembled before your palace, we plead for our salvation. refuse not your aid; raise your people from the tomb, and give them the means of working out their own destiny. rescue them from the intolerable yoke of officialdom; throw down the wall that separates you from them, in order that they may rule with you the country that was created for their happiness--a happiness which is being wrenched from us, leaving nothing but sorrow and humiliation." with an innate sentiment of autocratic dignity the emperor declined to obey the imperious summons, and he thereby avoided an unseemly altercation with the excited priest, as well as the boisterous public meetings which the social democrats were preparing to hold in the palace square. orders were given to the police and the troops to prevent the crowds of workmen from penetrating into the centre of the city from the industrial suburbs. the rest need not be described in detail. on sunday the crowds tried to force their way, the troops fired, and many of the demonstrators were killed or wounded. how many it is impossible to say; between the various estimates there is an enormous discrepancy. at one of the first volleys father gapon fell, but he turned out to be quite unhurt, and was spirited away to his place of refuge, whence he escaped across the frontier. as soon as he had an opportunity of giving public expression to his feelings, he indulged in very strong language. in his letters and proclamations the tsar is called a miscreant and an assassin, and is described as traitorous, bloodthirsty, and bestial. to the ministers he is equally uncomplimentary. they appear to him an accursed band of brigands, mamelukes, jackals, monsters. against the tsar, "with his reptilian brood," and the ministers alike, he vows vengeance--"death to them all!" as for the means for realising his sacred mission, he recommends bombs, dynamite, individual and wholesale terrorism, popular insurrection, and paralysing the life of the cities by destroying the water-mains, the gas-pipes, the telegraph and telephone wires, the railways and tram-ways, the government buildings and the prisons. at some moments he seems to imagine himself invested with papal powers, for he anathematises the soldiers who did their duty on the eventful day, whilst he blesses and absolves from their oath of allegiance those who help the nation to win liberty. so far i have spoken merely of the main currents in the revolutionary movement. of the minor currents--particularly those in the outlying provinces, where the socialist tendencies were mingled with nationalist feeling--i shall have occasion to speak when i come to deal with the present political situation as a whole. meanwhile, i wish to sketch in outline the foreign policy which has powerfully contributed to bring about the present crisis. chapter xxxviii territorial expansion and foreign policy rapid growth of russia--expansive tendency of agricultural peoples--the russo-slavonians--the northern forest and the steppe--colonisation--the part of the government in the process of expansion--expansion towards the west--growth of the empire represented in a tabular form--commercial motive for expansion--the expansive force in the future--possibilities of expansion in europe--persia, afghanistan, and india--trans-siberian railway and weltpolitik--a grandiose scheme--determined opposition of japan--negotiations and war--russia's imprudence explained--conclusion. the rapid growth of russia is one of the most remarkable facts of modern history. an insignificant tribe, or collection of tribes, which, a thousand years ago, occupied a small district near the sources of the dnieper and western dvina, has grown into a great nation with a territory stretching from the baltic to the northern pacific, and from the polar ocean to the frontiers of turkey, persia, afghanistan, and china. we have here a fact well deserving of investigation, and as the process is still going on and is commonly supposed to threaten our national interests, the investigation ought to have for us more than a mere scientific interest. what is the secret of this expansive power? is it a mere barbarous lust of territorial aggrandisement, or is it some more reasonable motive? and what is the nature of the process? is annexation followed by assimilation, or do the new acquisitions retain their old character? is the empire in its present extent a homogeneous whole, or merely a conglomeration of heterogenous units held together by the outward bond of centralised administration? if we could find satisfactory answers to these questions, we might determine how far russia is strengthened or weakened by her annexations of territory, and might form some plausible conjectures as to how, when, and where the process of expansion is to stop. by glancing at her history from the economic point of view we may easily detect one prominent cause of expansion. an agricultural people, employing merely the primitive methods of agriculture, has always a strong tendency to widen its borders. the natural increase of population demands a constantly increasing production of grain, whilst the primitive methods of cultivation exhaust the soil and steadily diminish its productivity. with regard to this stage of economic development, the modest assertion of malthus, that the supply of food does not increase so rapidly as the population, often falls far short of the truth. as the population increases, the supply of food may decrease not only relatively, but absolutely. when a people finds itself in this critical position, it must adopt one of two alternatives: either it must prevent the increase of population, or it must increase the production of food. in the former case it may legalise the custom of "exposing" infants, as was done in ancient greece; or it may regularly sell a large portion of the young women and children, as was done until recently in circassia; or the surplus population may emigrate to foreign lands, as the scandinavians did in the ninth century, and as we ourselves are doing in a more peaceable fashion at the present day. the other alternative may be effected either by extending the area of cultivation or by improving the system of agriculture. the russo-slavonians, being an agricultural people, experienced this difficulty, but for them it was not serious. a convenient way of escape was plainly indicated by their peculiar geographical position. they were not hemmed in by lofty mountains or stormy seas. to the south and east--at their very doors, as it were--lay a boundless expanse of thinly populated virgin soil, awaiting the labour of the husbandman, and ready to repay it most liberally. the peasantry therefore, instead of exposing their infants, selling their daughters, or sweeping the seas as vikings, simply spread out towards the east and south. this was at once the most natural and the wisest course, for of all the expedients for preserving the equilibrium between population and food-production, increasing the area of cultivation is, under the circumstances just described, the easiest and most effective. theoretically the same result might have been obtained by improving the method of agriculture, but practically this was impossible. intensive culture is not likely to be adopted so long as expansion is easy. high farming is a thing to be proud of when there is a scarcity of land, but it would be absurd to attempt it where there is abundance of virgin soil in the vicinity. the process of expansion, thus produced by purely economic causes, was accelerated by influences of another kind, especially during the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. the increase in the number of officials, the augmentation of the taxes, the merciless exactions of the voyevods and their subordinates, the transformation of the peasants and "free wandering people" into serfs, the ecclesiastical reforms and consequent persecution of the schismatics, the frequent conscriptions and violent reforms of peter the great--these and other kinds of oppression made thousands flee from their homes and seek a refuge in the free territory, where there were no officials, no tax-gatherers, and no proprietors. but the state, with its army of tax-gatherers and officials, followed close on the heels of the fugitives, and those who wished to preserve their liberty had to advance still further. notwithstanding the efforts of the authorities to retain the population in the localities actually occupied, the wave of colonisation moved steadily onwards. the vast territory which lay open to the colonists consisted of two contiguous regions, separated from each other by no mountains or rivers, but widely differing from each other in many respects. the one, comprising all the northern part of eastern europe and of asia, even unto kamchatka, may be roughly described as a land of forests, intersected by many rivers, and containing numerous lakes and marshes; the other, stretching southwards to the black sea, and eastwards far away into central asia, is for the most part what russians call "the steppe," and americans would call the prairies. each of these two regions presented peculiar inducements and peculiar obstacles to colonisation. so far as the facility of raising grain was concerned, the southern region was decidedly preferable. in the north the soil had little natural fertility, and was covered with dense forests, so that much time and labour had to be expended in making a clearing before the seed could be sown.* in the south, on the contrary, the squatter had no trees to fell, and no clearing to make. nature had cleared the land for him, and supplied him with a rich black soil of marvellous fertility, which has not yet been exhausted by centuries of cultivation. why, then, did the peasant often prefer the northern forests to the fertile steppe where the land was already prepared for him? * the modus operandi has been already described; vide supra, pp. et seq. for this apparent inconsistency there was a good and valid reason. the muzhik had not, even in those good old times, any passionate love of labour for its own sake, nor was he by any means insensible to the facilities for agriculture afforded by the steppe. but he could not regard the subject exclusively from the agricultural point of view. he had to take into consideration the fauna as well as the flora of the two regions. at the head of the fauna in the northern forests stood the peace-loving, laborious finnish tribes, little disposed to molest settlers who did not make themselves obnoxiously aggressive; on the steppe lived the predatory, nomadic hordes, ever ready to attack, plunder, and carry off as slaves the peaceful agricultural population. these facts, as well as the agricultural conditions, were known to intending colonists, and influenced them in their choice of a new home. though generally fearless and fatalistic in a higher degree, they could not entirely overlook the dangers of the steppe, and many of them preferred to encounter the hard work of the forest region. these differences in the character and population of the two regions determined the character of the colonisation. though the colonisation of the northern regions was not effected entirely without bloodshed, it was, on the whole, of a peaceful kind, and consequently received little attention from the contemporary chroniclers. the colonisation of the steppe, on the contrary, required the help of the cossacks, and forms, as i have already shown, one of the bloodiest pages of european history. thus, we see, the process of expansion towards the north, east, and south may be described as a spontaneous movement of the agricultural population. it must, however, be admitted that this is an imperfect and one-sided representation of the phenomenon. though the initiative unquestionably came from the people, the government played an important part in the movement. in early times when russia was merely a conglomeration of independent principalities, the princes were under the moral and political obligation of protecting their subjects, and this obligation coincided admirably with their natural desire to extend their dominions. when the grand princes of muscovy, in the fifteenth century, united the numerous principalities and proclaimed themselves tsars, they accepted this obligation for the whole country, and conceived much grander schemes of territorial aggrandisement. towards the north and northeast no strenuous efforts were required. the republic of novgorod easily gained possession of northern russia as far as the ural mountains, and siberia was conquered by a small band of cossacks without the authorisation of muscovy, so that the tsars had merely to annex the already conquered territory. in the southern region the part played by the government was very different. the agricultural population had to be constantly protected along a frontier of enormous length, lying open at all points to the incursions of nomadic tribes. to prevent raids it was necessary to keep up a military cordon, and this means did not always ensure protection to those living near the frontier. the nomads often came in formidable hordes, which could be successfully resisted only by large armies, and sometimes the armies were not large enough to cope with them. again and again during the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries tartar hordes swept over the country--burning the villages and towns, and spreading devastation wherever they appeared--and during more than two centuries russia had to pay a heavy tribute to the khans. gradually the tsars threw off this galling yoke. ivan the terrible annexed the three khanates of the lower volga--kazan, kipttchak, and astrakhan--and in that way removed the danger of a foreign domination. but permanent protection was not thereby secured to the outlying provinces. the nomadic tribes living near the frontier continued their raids, and in the slave markets of the crimea the living merchandise was supplied by russia and poland. to protect an open frontier against the incursions of nomadic tribes three methods are possible: the construction of a great wall, the establishment of a strong military cordon, and the permanent subjugation of the marauders. the first of these expedients, adopted by the romans in britain and by the chinese on their northwestern frontier, is enormously expensive, and was utterly impossible in a country like southern russia, where there is no stone for building purposes; the second was constantly tried, and constantly found wanting; the third alone proved practicable and efficient. though the government has long since recognised that the acquisition of barren, thinly populated steppes is a burden rather than an advantage, it has been induced to go on making annexations for the purpose of self-defence, as well as for other reasons. in consequence of this active part which the government took in the extension of the territory, the process of political expansion sometimes got greatly ahead of the colonisation. after the turkish wars and consequent annexations in the time of catherine ii., for example, a great part of southern russia was almost uninhabited, and the deficiency had to be corrected, as we have seen, by organised emigration. at the present day, in the asiatic provinces, there are still immense tracts of unoccupied land, some of which are being gradually colonised. if we turn now from the east to the west we shall find that the expansion in this direction was of an entirely different kind. the country lying to the westward of the early russo-slavonian settlements had a poor soil and a comparatively dense population, and consequently held out little inducement to emigration. besides this, it was inhabited by warlike agricultural races, who were not only capable of defending their own territory, but even strongly disposed to make encroachments on their eastern neighbours. russian expansion to the westward was, therefore, not a spontaneous movement of the agricultural population, but the work of the government, acting slowly and laboriously by means of diplomacy and military force; it had, however, a certain historical justification. no sooner had russia freed herself, in the fifteenth century, from the tartar domination, than her political independence, and even her national existence, were threatened from the west. her western neighbours, were like herself, animated with that tendency to national expansion which i have above described; and for a time it seemed doubtful who should ultimately possess the vast plains of eastern europe. the chief competitors were the tsars of moscow and the kings of poland, and the latter appeared to have the better chance. in close connection with western europe, they had been able to adopt many of the improvements which had recently been made in the art of war, and they already possessed the rich valley of the dnieper. once, with the help of the free cossacks, they succeeded in overrunning the whole of muscovy, and a son of the polish king was elected tsar in moscow. by attempting to accomplish their purpose in a too hasty and reckless fashion, they raised a storm of religious and patriotic fanaticism, which very soon drove them out of their newly acquired possessions. the country remained, however, in a very precarious position, and its more intelligent rulers perceived plainly that, in order to carry on the struggle successfully, they must import something of that western civilisation which gave such an advantage to their opponents. some steps had already been taken in that direction. in the year an english navigator, whilst seeking for a short route to china and india, had accidentally discovered the port of archangel on the white sea, and since that time the tsars had kept up an intermittent diplomatic and commercial intercourse with england. but this route was at all times tedious and dangerous, and during a great part of the year it was closed by the ice. in view of these difficulties the tsars tried to import "cunning foreign artificers," by way of the baltic; but their efforts were hampered by the livonian order, who at that time held the east coast, and who considered, like the europeans on the coast of africa at the present day, that the barbarous natives of the interior should not be supplied with arms and ammunition. all the other routes to the west traversed likewise the territory of rivals, who might at any time become avowed enemies. under these circumstances the tsars naturally desired to break through the barrier which hemmed them in, and the acquisition of the eastern coast of the baltic became one of the chief objects of russia's foreign policy. after poland, russia's most formidable rival was sweden. that power early acquired a large amount of territory to the east of the baltic--including the mouths of the neva, where st. petersburg now stands--and long harboured ambitious schemes of further conquest. in the troublous times when the poles overran the tsardom of muscovy, she took advantage of the occasion to annex a considerable amount of territory, and her expansion in this direction went on in intermittent fashion until it was finally stopped by peter the great. in comparison with these two rivals russia was weak in all that regarded the art of war; but she had two immense advantages: she had a very large population, and a strong, stable government that could concentrate the national forces for any definite purpose. all that she required for success in the competition was an army on the european model. peter the great created such an army, and won the prize. after this the political disintegration of poland proceeded rapidly, and when that unhappy country fell to pieces russia naturally took for herself the lion's share of the spoil. sweden, too, sank to political insignificance, and gradually lost all her trans-baltic possessions. the last of them--the grand duchy of finland, which stretches from the gulf of finland to the polar ocean--was ceded to russia by the peace of friederichshamm in . the territorial extent of all these acquisitions will be best shown in a tabular form. the following table represents the process of expansion from the time when ivan iii. united the independent principalities and threw off the tartar yoke, down to the accession of peter the great in : english sq. miles. in the tsardom of muscovy contained about , " " " " " , " " " " " , , " " " " " , , " " " " " , , " " " " " , , of these , , english square miles about , , were in europe and about , , in asia. peter the great, though famous as a conqueror, did not annex nearly so much territory as many of his predecessors and successors. at his death, in , the empire contained, in round numbers, , , square miles in europe and , , in asia. the following table shows the subsequent expansion: in europe and the caucasus in asia. eng. sq. m eng. sq. m. in the russian empire contained about , , , , " " " " " , , , , " " " " " , , , , " " " " " , , , , " " " " " , , , , " " " " " , , , , " " " " " , , , , in this table is not included the territory in the north-west of america--containing about , english square miles--which was annexed to russia in and ceded to the united states in . when once russia has annexed she does not readily relax her grasp. she has, however, since the death of peter the great, on four occasions ceded territory which had come into her possession. to persia she ceded, in , mazanderan and astrabad, and in a large portion of the caucasus; in , by the treaty of paris, she gave up the mouths of the danube and part of bessarabia; in she sold to the united states her american possessions; in she retroceded to china the greater part of kuldja, which she had occupied for ten years; and now she is releasing her hold on manchuria under the pressure of japan. the increase in the population--due in part to territorial acquisitions--since , when the first census was taken, has been as follows:-- in the empire contained about million inhabitants. " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " " so much for the past. to sum up, we may say that, if we have read russian history aright, the chief motives of expansion have been spontaneous colonisation, self-defence against nomadic tribes, and high political aims, such as the desire to reach the sea-coast; and that the process has been greatly facilitated by peculiar geographical conditions and the autocratic form of government. before passing to the future, i must mention another cause of expansion which has recently come into play, and which has already acquired very great importance. russia is rapidly becoming, as i have explained in a previous chapter, a great industrial and commercial nation, and is anxious to acquire new markets for her manufactured goods. though her industries cannot yet supply her own wants, she likes to peg out claims for the future, so as not to be forestalled by more advanced nations. i am not sure that she ever makes a conquest exclusively for this purpose, but whenever it happens that she has other reasons for widening her borders, the idea of acquiring commercial advantages acts as a subsidiary incentive, and as soon as the territory is annexed she raises round it a line of commercial fortifications in the shape of custom-houses, through which foreign goods have great difficulty in forcing their way. this policy is quite intelligible from the patriotic point of view, but russians like to justify it, and condemn english competition, on higher ground. england, they say, is like a successful manufacturer who has oustripped his rivals and who seeks to prevent any new competitors from coming into the field. by her mercantile policy she has become the great blood-sucker of other nations. having no cause to fear competition, she advocates the insidious principles of free trade, and deluges foreign countries with her manufactures to such an extent that unprotected native industries are inevitably ruined. thus all nations have long paid tribute to england, but the era of emancipation had dawned. the fallacies of free trade have been detected and exposed, and russia, like other nations, has found in the beneficent power of protective tariffs a means of escape from british economic thraldom. henceforth, not only the muzhiks of european russia, but also the populations of central asia, will be saved from the heartless exploitation of manchester and birmingham--and be handed over, i presume, to the tender mercies of the manufacturers of moscow and st. petersburg, who sell their goods much dearer than their english rivals. having thus analysed the expansive tendency, let us endeavour to determine how the various factors of which it is composed are acting in the present and are likely to act in the future. in this investigation it will be well to begin with the simpler, and proceed gradually to the more complex parts of the problem. towards the north and the west the history of russian expansion may almost be regarded as closed. northwards there is nothing to be annexed but the arctic ocean and the polar regions; and, westwards, annexations at the expense of germany are not to be thought of. there remain, therefore, only sweden and norway. they may possibly, at some future time, come within the range of russia's territorial appetite, but at present the only part of the scandinavian peninsula on which she is supposed to cast longing eyes is a barren district in the extreme north, which is said to contain an excellent warm-water port. towards the south-west there are possibilities of future expansion, and already some people talk of austrian galicia being geographically and ethnographically a part of russia; but so long as the austro-hungarian empire holds together such possibilities do not come within the sphere of practical politics. farther east, towards the balkan peninsula, the expansive tendency is much more complicated and of very ancient date. the russo-slavs who held the valley of the dnieper from the ninth to the thirteenth century belonged to those numerous frontier tribes which the tottering byzantine empires attempted to ward off by diplomacy and rich gifts, and by giving to the troublesome chiefs, on condition of their accepting christianity, princesses of the imperial family as brides. vladimir, prince of kief, now recognised as a saint by the russian church, accepted christianity in this way (a. d. ), and his subjects followed his example. russia thus became ecclesiastically a part of the patriarchate of constantinople, and the people learned to regard tsargrad--that is, the city of the tsar, as the byzantine emperor was then called--with peculiar veneration. all through the long tartar domination, when the nomadic hordes held the valley of the dnieper and formed a barrier between russia and the balkan peninsula, the capital of the greek orthodox world was remembered and venerated by the russian people, and in the fifteenth century it acquired in their eyes a new significance. at that time the relative positions of constantinople and moscow were changed. constantinople fell under the power of the mahometan turks, whilst moscow threw off the yoke of the mahometan tartars, the northern representatives of the turkish race. the grand prince of moscow thereby became the protector of the faith, and in some sort the successor of the byzantine tsars. to strengthen this claim, ivan iii. married a niece of the last byzantine emperor, and his successors went further in the same direction by assuming the title of tsar, and inventing a fable about their ancestor rurik having been a descendant of caesar augustus. all this would seem to a lawyer, or even to a diplomatist, a very shadowy title, and none of the russian monarchs--except perhaps catherine ii., who conceived the project of resuscitating the byzantine empire, and caused one of her grandsons to learn modern greek, in view of possible contingencies--ever thought seriously of claiming the imaginary heritage; but the idea that the tsars ought to reign in tsargrad, and that st. sophia, polluted by moslem abominations, should be restored to the orthodox christians, struck deep root in the minds of the russian people, and is still by no means extinct. as soon as serious disturbances break out in the east the peasantry begin to think that perhaps the time has come for undertaking a crusade for the recovery of the holy city on the bosphorus, and for the liberation of their brethren in the faith who groan under turkish bondage. essentially different from this religious sentiment, but often blended with it, is a vague feeling of racial affinity, which has long existed among the various slav nationalities, and which was greatly developed during last century by writers of the panslavist school. when germans and italians were striving after political independence and unity, it naturally occurred to the slavs that they might do likewise. the idea became popular among the subject slav nationalities of austria and turkey, and it awoke a certain amount of enthusiasm in moscow, where it was hoped that "all the slav streams would unite in the great russian sea." it required no great political perspicacity to foresee that in any confederation of slav nationalities the hegemony must necessarily devolve on russia, the only slav state which has succeeded in becoming a great power. those two currents of national feeling ran parallel to, and intermingled with, the policy of the government. desirous of becoming a great naval power, russia has always striven to reach the sea-coast and obtain good harbours. in the north and north-west she succeeded in a certain degree, but neither the white sea nor the baltic satisfied her requirements, and she naturally turned her eyes to the mediterranean. with difficulty she gained possession of the northern shores of the black sea, but her designs were thereby only half realised, because the turks held the only outlet to the mediterranean, and could effectually blockade, so far as the open sea is concerned, all her black sea ports, without employing a single ship of war. thus the possession of the straits, involving necessarily the possession of constantinople, became a cardinal point of russia's foreign policy. any description of the various methods adopted by her at different times for the attainment of this end does not enter into my present programme, but i may say briefly that the action of the three factors above mentioned--the religious feeling, the panslavist sentiment, and the political aims--has never been better exemplified than in the last struggle with turkey, culminating in the treaty of san stefano and the congress of berlin. for all classes in russia the result of that struggle was a feeling of profound disappointment. the peasantry bewailed the fact that the crescent on st. sophia had not been replaced by the cross; the slavophil patriots were indignant that the "little brothers" had shown themselves unworthy of the generous efforts and sacrifices made on their behalf, and that a portion of the future slav confederation had passed under the domination of austria; and the government recognised that the acquisition of the straits must be indefinitely postponed. then history repeated itself. after the crimean war, in accordance with prince gortchakoff's famous epigram, la russie ne boude pas elle se recueille, the government had for some years abandoned an active policy in europe, and devoted itself to the work of internal reorganisation; whilst the military party had turned their attention to making new acquisitions of territory and influence in asia. in like manner, after the turkish campaign of - , alexander iii., turning his back on the slav brethren, inaugurated an era of peace in europe and of territorial expansion in the east. in this direction the expansive force was not affected by religious feeling, or panslavist sentiment, and was controlled and guided by purely political considerations. it is consequently much easier to determine in this field of action what the political aims really are. in asia, as in europe, the dominant factor in the policy of the government has been the desire to reach the sea-coast; and in both continents the ports first acquired were in northern latitudes where the coasts are free from ice during only a part of the year. in this respect, nikolaefsk and vladivostok in the far east correspond to archangel and st. petersburg in europe. such ports could not fulfil all the requirements, and consequently the expansive tendency turned southwards--in europe towards the black sea and the mediterranean, and in asia towards the persian gulf, the indian ocean and the gulf of pechili. in persia the russian government pursues the policy of pacific infiltration, and already the northern half of the shah's dominions is pretty well permeated with russian influence, commercial and political. in the southern half the infiltration is to some extent checked by physical obstacles and british influence, but it is steadily advancing, and the idea of obtaining a port on the persian gulf is coming within the range of practical politics. in afghanistan also the pressure is felt, and here too the expansive tendency meets with opposition from england. more than once the two great powers have come dangerously near to war--notably in , at the moment of the penjdeh incident, when the british parliament voted , , pounds for military preparations. fortunately on that occasion the problem was solved by diplomacy. the northern frontier of afghanistan was demarcated by a joint commission, and an agreement was come to by which this line should form the boundary of the british and russian spheres of influence. for some years russia scrupulously respected this agreement, but during our south african difficulties she showed symptoms of departing from it, and at one moment orders were issued from st. petersburg for a military demonstration on the afghan frontier. strange to say, the military authorities, who are usually very bellicose, deprecated such a movement, on the ground that a military demonstration in a country like afghanistan might easily develop into a serious campaign, and that a serious campaign ought not to be undertaken in that region until after the completion of the strategical railways from orenburg to tashkent. as this important line has now been completed, and other strategic lines are in contemplation, the question arises whether russia meditates an attack on india. it is a question which is not easily answered. no doubt there are many russians who think it would be a grand thing to annex our indian empire, with its teeming millions and its imaginary fabulous treasures, and not a few young officers imagine that it would be an easy task. further, it is certain that the problem of an invasion has been studied by the headquarters staff in st. petersburg, just as the problem of an invasion of england has been studied by the headquarters staff in berlin. it may be pretty safely asserted, however, that the idea of a conquest of india has never been seriously entertained in the russian official world. what has been seriously entertained, not only in the official world, but by the government itself, is the idea--strongly recommended by the late general skobelef--that russia should, as quickly as possible, get within striking distance of our indian possessions, so that she may always be able to bring strong diplomatic pressure on the british government, and in the event of a conflict immobilise a large part of the british army. the expansive tendency in the direction of the persian gulf and the indian ocean was considerably weakened by the completion of the trans-siberian railway and the rapid development of an aggressive policy in the far east. never, perhaps, has the construction of a single line produced such deep and lasting changes in the sphere of weltpolitik. as soon as the trans-siberian was being rapidly constructed a magnificent prospect opened up to the gaze of imaginative politicians in st. petersburg. the foreground was manchuria a region of , square miles, endowed by nature with enormous mineral resources, and presenting a splendid field for agricultural colonisation and commercial enterprise. beyond was seen korea, geographically an appendix of manchuria, possessing splendid harbours, and occupied by an effete, unwarlike population, wholly incapable of resisting a european power. that was quite enough to inflame the imagination of patriotic russians; but there was something more, dimly perceived in the background. once in possession of manchuria, supplied with a network of railways, russia would dominate peking and the whole of northern china, and she would thus be able to play a decisive part in the approaching struggle of the european powers for the far-eastern sick man's inheritance. of course there were obstacles in the way of realising this grandiose scheme, and there were some cool heads in st. petersburg who were not slow to point them out. in the first place the undertaking must be extremely costly, and the economic condition of russia proper was not such as to justify the expenditure of an enormous capital which must be for many years unproductive. any superfluous capital which the country might possess was much more urgently required for purposes of internal development, and the impoverished agricultural population ought not to be drained of their last meagre reserves for the sake of gigantic political schemes which did not directly contribute to their material welfare. to this the enthusiastic advocates of the forward policy replied that the national finances had never been in such a prosperous condition, that the revenue was increasing by leaps and bounds, that the money invested in the proposed enterprise would soon be repaid with interest; and that if russia did not at once seize the opportunity she would find herself forestalled by energetic rivals. there was still, however, one formidable objection. such an enormous increase of russia's power in the far east would inevitably arouse the jealousy and opposition of other powers, especially of japan, for whom the future of korea and manchuria was a question of life and death. here again these advocates of the forward policy had their answer ready. they declared that the danger was more apparent than real. in far-eastern diplomacy the european powers could not compete with russia, and they might easily be bought off by giving them a very modest share of the spoil; as for japan, she was not formidable, for she was just emerging from oriental barbarism, and all her boasted progress was nothing more than a thin veneer of european civilisation. as the moscow patriots on the eve of the crimean war said contemptuously of the allies, "we have only to throw our hats at them," so now the believers in russia's historic mission in the far east spoke of their future opponents as "monkeys" and "parrots." the war between china and japan in - , terminating in the treaty of shimonoseki, which ceded to japan the liaotung peninsula, showed russia that if she was not to be forestalled she must be up and doing. she accordingly formed a coalition with france and germany, and compelled japan to withdraw from the mainland, on the pretext that the integrity of china must be maintained. in this way china recovered, for a moment, a bit of lost territory, and further benefits were conferred on her by a guarantee for a foreign loan, and by the creation of the russo-chinese bank, which would assist her in her financial affairs. for these and other favours she was expected to be grateful, and it was suggested to her that her gratitude might take the form of facilitating the construction of the trans-siberian railway. if constructed wholly on russian territory the line would have to make an enormous bend to the northward, whereas if it went straight from lake baikal to vladivostok it would be very much shorter, and would confer a very great benefit on the north-eastern provinces of the celestial empire. this benefit, moreover, might be greatly increased by making a branch line to talienwan and port arthur, which would some day be united with peking. gradually li-hung-chang and other influential chinese officials were induced to sympathise with the scheme, and a concession was granted for the direct line to vladivostok through chinese territory. the retrocession of the liaotung peninsula had not been effected by russia alone. germany and france had co-operated, and they also expected from china a mark of gratitude in some tangible form. on this point the statesmen of berlin held very strong views, and they thought it advisable to obtain a material guarantee for the fulfilment of their expectations by seizing kiaochau, on the ground that german missionaries had been murdered by chinese fanatics. for russia this was a most unwelcome incident. she had earmarked kiaochau for her own purposes, and had already made an agreement with the authorities in peking that the harbour might be used freely by her fleet. and this was not the worst. the incident might inaugurate an era of partition for which she was not yet prepared, and another port which she had earmarked for her own use might be seized by a rival. already english ships of war were reported to be prowling about in the vicinity of the liaotung peninsula. she hastened to demand, therefore, as a set-off for the loss of kiaochau, a lease of port arthur and talienwan, and a railway concession to unite these ports with the trans-siberian railway. the chinese government was too weak to think of refusing the demands, and the process of gradually absorbing manchuria began, in accordance with a plan already roughly sketched out in st. petersburg. in the light of a few authentic documents and many subsequent events, the outline of this plan can be traced with tolerable accuracy. in the region through which the projected railways were to run there was a large marauding population, and consequently the labourers and the works would have to be protected; and as chinese troops can never be thoroughly relied on, the protecting force must be russian. under this rather transparent disguise a small army of occupation could be gradually introduced, and in establishing a modus vivendi between it and the chinese civil and military authorities a predominant influence in the local administration could be established. at the same time, by energetic diplomatic action at peking, which would be brought within striking-distance by the railways, all rival foreign influences might be excluded from the occupied provinces, and the rest might be left to the action of "spontaneous infiltration." thus, while professing to uphold the principle of the territorial integrity of the celestial empire, the cabinet of st. petersburg might practically annex the whole of manchuria and transform port arthur into a great naval port and arsenal, a far more effectual "dominator of the east" than vladivostok, which was intended, as its name implies, to fulfil that function. from manchuria the political influence and the spontaneous infiltration would naturally extend to korea, and on the deeply indented coast of the hermit kingdom new ports and arsenals, far more spacious and strategically more important than port arthur, might be constructed. the grandiose scheme was carefully laid, and for a time it was favoured by circumstances. in the boxer troubles justified russia in sending a large force into manchuria, and enabled her subsequently to play the part of china's protector against the inordinate demands of the western powers for compensation and guarantees. for a moment it seemed as if the slow process of gradual infiltration might be replaced by a more expeditious mode of annexation. as the dexterous diplomacy of ignatief in had induced the son of heaven to cede to russia the rich primorsk provinces between the amur and the sea, as compensation for russian protection against the english and french, who had burnt his summer palace, so his successor might now perhaps be induced to cede manchuria to the tsar for similar reasons. no such cession actually took place, but the russian diplomatists in peking could use the gratitude argument in support of their demands for an extension of the rights and privileges of the "temporary" occupation; and when china sought to resist the pressure by leaning on the rival powers she found them to be little better than broken reeds. france could not openly oppose her ally, and germany had reasons of her own for conciliating the tsar, whilst england and the united states, though avowedly opposing the scheme as dangerous to their commercial interests, were not prepared to go to war in defence of their policy. it seemed, therefore, that by patience, tenacity and diplomatic dexterity russia might ultimately attain her ends; but a surprise was in store for her. there was one power which recognised that her own vital interests were at stake, and which was ready to undertake a life-and-death struggle in defence of them. though still smarting under the humiliation of her expulsion from the liaotung peninsula in , and watching with the keenest interest every move in the political game, japan had remained for some time in the background, and had confined her efforts to resisting russian influence in korea and supporting diplomatically the powers who were upholding the policy of the open door. now, when it had become evident that the western powers would not prevent the realisation of the russian scheme, she determined to intervene energetically, and to stake her national existence on the result. ever since she had been making military and naval preparations for the day of the revanche, and now that day was at hand. against the danger of a coalition such as had checkmated her on the previous occasion she was protected by the alliance which she had concluded with england in , and she felt confident that with russia alone she was quite capable of dealing single-handed. her position is briefly and graphically described in a despatch, telegraphed at that time ( th july, ) by the japanese government to its representative at st. petersburg, instructing him to open negotiations: "the recent conduct of russia in making new demands at peking and tightening her hold upon manchuria has led the imperial government to believe that she must have abandoned her intention of retiring from that province. at the same time, her increased activity upon the korean frontier is such as to raise doubts as to the limits of her ambition. the unconditional and permanent occupation of manchuria by russia would create a state of things prejudicial to the security and interests of japan. the principle of equal opportunity (the open door) would thereby be annulled, and the territorial integrity of china impaired. there is, however, a still more serious consideration for the japanese government. if russia were established on the flank of korea she would constantly menace the separate existence of that empire, or at least exercise in it a predominant influence; and as japan considers korea an important outpost in her line of defence, she regards its independence as absolutely essential to her own repose and safety. moreover, the political as well as commercial and industrial interests and influence which japan possesses in korea are paramount over those of other powers; she cannot, having regard to her own security, consent to surrender them to, or share them with, another power." in accordance with this view of the situation the japanese government informed count lamsdorff that, as it desired to remove from the relations of the two empires every cause of future misunderstanding, it would be glad to enter with the imperial russian government upon an examination of the condition of affairs in the far east, with a view to defining the respective special interests of the two countries in those regions. though count lamsdorff accepted the proposal with apparent cordiality and professed to regard it as a means of preventing any outsider from sowing the seeds of discord between the two countries, the idea of a general discussion was not at all welcome. careful definition of respective interests was the last thing the russian government desired. its policy was to keep the whole situation in a haze until it had consolidated its position in manchuria and on the korean frontier to such an extent that it could dictate its own terms in any future arrangement. it could not, however, consistently with its oft-repeated declarations of disinterestedness and love of peace, decline to discuss the subject. it consented, therefore, to an exchange of views, but in order to ensure that the tightening of its hold on the territories in question should proceed pari passu with the diplomatic action, it made an extraordinary departure from ordinary procedure, entrusting the conduct of the affair, not to count lamsdorff and the foreign office, but to admiral alexeyef, the newly created viceroy of the far east, in whom was vested the control of all civil, military, naval, and diplomatic affairs relating to that part of the world. from the commencement of the negotiations, which lasted from august th, , to february th, , the irreconcilable differences of the two rivals became apparent, and all through the correspondence, in which a few apparent concessions were offered by japan, neither power retreated a step from the positions originally taken up. what japan suggested was, roughly speaking, a mutual engagement to uphold the independence and integrity of the chinese and korean empires, and at the same time a bilateral arrangement by which the special interests of the two contracting parties in manchuria and in korea should be formally recognised, and the means of protecting them clearly defined. the scheme did not commend itself to the russians. they systematically ignored the interests of japan in manchuria, and maintained that she had no right to interfere in any arrangements they might think fit to make with the chinese government with regard to that province. in their opinion, japan ought to recognise formally that manchuria lay outside her sphere of interest, and the negotiations should be confined to limiting her freedom of action in korea. with such a wide divergence in principle the two parties were not likely to agree in matters of detail. their conflicting aims came out most clearly in the question of the open door. the japanese insisted on obtaining the privileges of the open door, including the right of settlement in manchuria, and russia obstinately refused. having marked out manchuria as a close reserve for her own colonisation, trade, and industry, and knowing that she could not compete with the japanese if they were freely admitted, she could not adopt the principle of "equal opportunity" which her rivals recommended. a fidus achates of admiral alexeyef explained to me quite frankly, during the negotiations, why no concessions could be made on that point. in the work of establishing law and order in manchuria, constructing roads, bridges, railways, and towns, russia had expended an enormous sum--estimated by count cassini at , , pounds--and until that capital was recovered, or until a reasonable interest was derived from the investment, russia could not think of sharing with any one the fruits of the prosperity which she had created. we need not go further into the details of the negotiations. japan soon convinced herself that the onward march of the colossus was not to be stopped by paper barricades, and knowing well that her actual military and naval superiority was being rapidly diminished by russia's warlike preparations,* she suddenly broke off diplomatic relations and commenced hostilities. * according to an estimate made by the japanese authorities, between april, , and the outbreak of the war, russia increased her naval and military forces in the far east by nineteen war vessels, aggregating , tons, and , soldiers. in addition to this, one battleship, three cruisers, seven torpedo destroyers, and four torpedo boats, aggregating about , tons, were on their way to the east, and preparations had been made for increasing the land forces by , men. for further details, see asakawa, "the russo-japanese conflict" (london, ), pp. - . russia thus found herself engaged in a war of the first magnitude, of which no one can predict the ultimate consequences, and the question naturally arises as to why, with an emperor who lately aspired to play in politics the part of a great peacemaker, she provoked a conflict, for which she was very imperfectly prepared--imposing on herself the obligation of defending a naval fortress, hastily constructed on foreign territory, and united with her base by a single line of railway , miles long. the question is easily answered: she did not believe in the possibility of war. the emperor was firmly resolved that he would not attack japan, and no one would admit for a moment that japan could have the audacity to attack the great russian empire. in the late autumn of , it is true, a few well-informed officials in st. petersburg, influenced by the warnings of baron rosen, the russian minister in tokio, began to perceive that perhaps japan would provoke a conflict, but they were convinced that the military and naval preparations already made were quite sufficient to repel the attack. one of these officials--probably the best informed of all--said to me quite frankly: "if japan had attacked us in may or june, we should have been in a sorry plight, but now [november, ] we are ready." the whole past history of territoral expansion in asia tended to confirm the prevailing illusions. russia had advanced steadily from the ural and the caspian to the hindu kush and the northern pacific without once encountering serious resistance. not once had she been called on to make a great national effort, and the armed resistance of the native races had never inflicted on her anything worse than pin-pricks. from decrepit china, which possessed no army in the european sense of the term, a more energetic resistance was not to be expected. had not muravieff amurski with a few cossacks quietly occupied her amur territories without provoking anything more dangerous than a diplomatic protest; and had not ignatief annexed her rich primorsk provinces, including the site of vladivostok, by purely diplomatic means? why should not count cassini, a diplomatist of the same type as ignatief, imitate his adroit predecessor, and secure for russia, if not the formal annexation, at least the permanent occupation, of manchuria? remembering all this, we can perceive that the great mistake of the russian government is not so very difficult to explain. it certainly did not want war--far from it--but it wanted to obtain manchuria by a gradual, painless process of absorption, and it did not perceive that this could not be attained without a life-and-death struggle with a young, vigorous nationality, which has contrived to combine the passions and virtues of a primitive race with the organising powers and scientific appliances of the most advanced civilisation. russian territorial expansion has thus been checked, for some years to come, on the pacific coast; but the expansive tendency will re-appear soon in other regions, and it behooves us to be watchful, because, whatever direction it may take, it is likely to affect our interests directly or indirectly. will it confine itself for some years to a process of infiltration in mongolia and northern thibet, the line of least resistance? or will it impinge on our indian frontier, directed by those who desire to avenge themselves on japan's ally for the reverses sustained in manchuria? or will it once more take the direction of the bosphorous, where a campaign might be expected to awaken religious and warlike enthusiasm among the masses? to these questions i cannot give any answer, because so much depends on the internal consequences of the present war, and on accidental circumstances which no one can at present foresee. i have always desired, and still desire, that we should cultivate friendly relations with our great rival, and that we should learn to appreciate the many good qualities of her people; but i have at the same time always desired that we should keep a watchful eye on her irrepressible tendency to expand, and that we should take timely precautions against any unprovoked aggression, however justifiable it may seem to her from the point of view of her own national interests. chapter xxxix the present situation reform or revolution?--reigns of alexander ii. and nicholas ii. compared and contrasted--the present opposition--various groups--the constitutionalists--zemski sobors--the young tsar dispels illusions--liberal frondeurs--plehve's repressive policy--discontent increased by the war--relaxation and wavering under prince mirski--reform enthusiasm--the constitutionalists formulate their demands--the social democrats--father gapon's demonstration--the socialist-revolutionaries--the agrarian agitators--the subject-nationalities--numerical strength of the various groups--all united on one point--their different aims--possible solutions of the crisis--difficulties of introducing constitutional regime--a strong man wanted--uncertainty of the future. is history about to repeat itself, or are we on the eve of a cataclysm? is the reign of nicholas ii. to be, in its main lines, a repetition of the reign of alexander ii., or is russia about to enter on an entirely new phase of her political development? to this momentous question i do not profess to give a categorical answer. if it be true, even in ordinary times, that "of all forms of human folly, prediction is the most gratuitous," it is especially true at a moment like the present, when we are constantly reminded of the french proverb that there is nothing certain but the unforeseen. all i can hope to do is to throw a little light on the elements of the problem, and allow the reader to draw his own conclusions. between the present situation and the early part of alexander ii.'s reign there is undoubtedly a certain analogy. in both cases we find in the educated classes a passionate desire for political liberty, generated by long years of a stern, autocratic regime, and stimulated by military disasters for which autocracy is held responsible; and in both cases we find the throne occupied by a sovereign of less accentuated political convictions and less energetic character than his immediate predecessor. in the earlier case, the autocrat, showing more perspicacity and energy than were expected of him, guides and controls the popular enthusiasm, and postpones the threatened political crisis by effecting a series of far reaching and beneficent reforms. in the present case . . . the description of the result must be left to future historians. for the moment, all we can say is that between the two situations there are as many points of difference as of analogy. after the crimean war the enthusiasm was of a vague, eclectic kind, and consequently it could find satisfaction in practical administrative reforms not affecting the essence of the autocratic power, the main pivot round which the empire has revolved for centuries. now, on the contrary, it is precisely on this pivot that the reform enthusiasm is concentrated. mere bureaucratic reforms can no longer give satisfaction. all sections of the educated classes, with the exception of a small group of conservative doctrinaires, insist on obtaining a controlling influence in the government of the country, and demand that the autocratic power, if not abolished, shall be limited by parliamentary institutions of a democratic type. another difference between the present and the past, is that those who now clamour for radical changes are more numerous, more courageous, and better organised than their predecessors, and they are consequently better able to bring pressure to bear on the government. formerly the would-be reformers were of two categories; on the one hand, the constitutionalists, who remained within the bounds of legality, and confined themselves to inserting vague hints in loyal addresses to the tsar and making mild political demonstrations; and on the other hand, the so-called nihilists, who talked about organising society on socialistic principles, and who hoped to attain their object by means of secret associations. with both of these groups, as soon as they became aggressive, the government had no difficulty in dealing effectually. the leading constitutionalists were simply reprimanded or ordered to remain for a time in their country houses, while the more active revolutionaries were exiled, imprisoned, or compelled to take refuge abroad. all this gave the police a good deal of trouble, especially when the nihilists took to socialist propaganda among the common people, and to acts of terrorism against the officials; but the existence of the autocratic power was never seriously endangered. nowadays the liberals have no fear of official reprimands, and openly disregard the orders of the authorities about holding meetings and making speeches, while a large section of the socialists proclaim themselves a social democratic party, enrol large numbers of working men, organise formidable strikes, and make monster demonstrations leading to bloodshed. let us now examine this new opposition a little more closely. we can perceive at a glance that it is composed of two sections, differing widely from each other in character and aims. on the one hand, there are the liberals, who desire merely political reforms of a more or less democratic type; on the other, there are the socialists, who aim at transforming thoroughly the existing economic organisation of society, and who, if they desire parliamentary institutions at all, desire them simply as a stepping stone to the realisation of the socialist ideal. behind the socialists, and to some extent mingling with them, stand a number of men belonging to the various subject-nationalities, who have placed themselves under the socialist banner, but who hold, more or less concealed, their little national flags, ready to be unfurled at the proper moment. of these three sections of the opposition, the most numerous and the best prepared to undertake the functions and responsibilities of government is that of the liberals. the movement which they represent began immediately after the crimean war, when the upper ranks of society, smarting under defeat and looking about for the cause of the military disasters, came to the conclusion that autocracy had been put to a crucial test, and found wanting. the outburst of patriotic indignation at that time and the eager desire for a more liberal regime have been described in previous chapters. for a moment the more sanguine critics of the government imagined that the autocratic power, persuaded of its own inefficiency, would gladly accept the assistance of the educated classes, and would spontaneously transform itself into a constitutional monarchy. in reality alexander ii. had no such intentions. he was resolved to purify the administration and to reform as far as possible all existing abuses, and he seemed ready at first to listen to the advice and accept the co-operation of his faithful subjects; but he had not the slightest intention of limiting his supreme authority, which he regarded as essential to the existence of the empire. as soon as the landed proprietors began to complain that the great question of serf emancipation was being taken out of their hands by the bureaucracy, he reminded them that "in russia laws are made by the autocratic power," and when the more courageous marshals of noblesse ventured to protest against the unceremonious manner in which the nobles were being treated by the tchinovniks, some of them were officially reprimanded and others were deposed. the indignation produced by this procedure, in which the tsar identified himself with the bureaucracy, was momentarily appeased by the decision of the government to entrust to the landed proprietors the carrying out of the emancipation law, and by the confident hope that political rights would be granted them as compensation for the material sacrifices they had made for the good of the state; but when they found that this confident hope was an illusion, the indignation and discontent reappeared. there was still, however, a ray of hope. though the autocratic power was evidently determined not to transform itself at once into a limited constitutional monarchy, it might make concessions in the sphere of local self-government. at that moment it was creating the zemstvo, and the constitutionalists hoped that these new institutions, though restricted legally to the sphere of purely economic wants, might gradually acquire a considerable political influence. learned germans had proved that in england, "the mother of modern constitutionalism," it was on local self-government that the political liberties were founded, and the slavophils now suggested that by means of an ancient institution called the zemski sobor, the zemstvo might gradually and naturally acquire a political character in accordance with russian historic development. as this idea has often been referred to in recent discussions, i may explain briefly what the ancient institution in question was. in the tsardom of muscovy during the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries representative assemblies were occasionally called together to deal with matters of exceptional importance, such as the election of a tsar when the throne became vacant, a declaration of war, the conclusion of a peace, or the preparation of a new code of laws. some fifteen assemblies of the kind were convoked in the space of about a century ( - ). they were composed largely of officials named by the government, but they contained also some representatives of the unofficial classes. their procedure was peculiar. when a speech from the throne had been read by the tsar or his representative, explaining the question to be decided, the assembly transformed itself into a large number of commissions, and each commission had to give in writing its opinion regarding the questions submitted to it. the opinions thus elicited were codified by the officials and submitted to the tsar, and he was free to adopt or reject them, as he thought fit. we may say, therefore, that the zemski sobor was merely consultative and had no legislative power; but we must add that it was allowed a certain initiative, because it was permitted to submit to the tsar humble petitions regarding anything which it considered worthy of attention. alexander ii. might have adopted this slavophil idea and used the zemski sobor as a means of transition from pure autocracy to a more modern system of government, but he had no sooner created the zemstvo than he thought it necessary, as we have seen, to clip its wings, and dispel its political ambition. by this repressive policy the frondeur spirit of the noblesse was revived, and it has continued to exist down to the present time. on each occasion when i revisited russia and had an opportunity of feeling the pulse of public opinion, between and , i noticed that the dissatisfaction with the traditional methods of government, and the desire of the educated classes to obtain a share of the political power, notwithstanding short periods of apparent apathy, were steadily spreading in area and increasing in intensity, and i often heard predictions that a disastrous foreign war like the crimean campaign would probably bring about the desired changes. of those who made such predictions not a few showed clearly that, though patriotic enough in a certain sense, they would not regret any military disaster which would have the effect they anticipated. progress in the direction of political emancipation, accompanied by radical improvements in the administration, was evidently regarded as much more important and desirable than military prestige or extension of territory. during the first part of the turkish campaign of - , when the russian armies were repulsed in bulgaria and asia minor, the hostility to autocracy was very strong, and the famous acquittal of vera zasulitch, who had attempted to assassinate general trepof, caused widespread satisfaction among people who were not themselves revolutionaries and who did not approve of such violent methods of political struggle. towards the end of the war, when the tide of fortune had turned both in europe and in asia, and the russian army was encamped under the walls of constantinople, within sight of st. sophia, the chauvinist feelings gained the upper hand, and they were greatly intensified by the congress of berlin, which deprived russia of some fruits of her victories. this change in public feeling and the horror excited by the assassination of alexander ii. prepared the way for alexander iii.'s reign ( - ), which was a period of political stagnation. he was a man of strong character, and a vigorous ruler who believed in autocracy as he did in the dogmas of his church; and very soon after his accession he gave it clearly to be understood that he would permit no limitations of the autocratic power. the men with liberal aspirations knew that nothing would make him change his mind on that subject, and that any liberal demonstrations would merely confirm him in his reactionary tendencies. they accordingly remained quiet and prudently waited for better times. the better times were supposed to have come when nicholas ii. ascended the throne in november, , because it was generally assumed that the young tsar, who was known to be humane and well-intentioned, would inaugurate a more liberal policy. before he had been three months on the throne he summarily destroyed these illusions. on th ( th) january, , when receiving deputies from the noblesse, the zemstvo, and the municipalities, who had come to st. petersburg to congratulate him on his marriage, he declared his confidence in the sincerity of the loyal feelings which the delegates expressed; and then, to the astonishment of all present, he added: "it is known to me that recently, in some zemstvo assemblies, were heard the voices of people who had let themselves be carried away by absurd dreams of the zemstvo representatives taking part in the affairs of internal administration; let them know that i, devoting all my efforts to the prosperity of the nation, will preserve the principles of autocracy as firmly and unswervingly as my late father of imperishable memory." these words, pronounced by the young ruler at the commencement of his reign, produced profound disappointment and dissatisfaction in all sections of the educated classes, and from that moment the frondeur spirit began to show itself more openly than at any previous period. in the case of some people of good social position it took the unusual form of speaking disrespectfully of his majesty. others supposed that the emperor had simply repeated words prepared for him by the minister of the interior, and this idea spread rapidly, till hostility to the bureaucracy became universal. this feeling reached its climax when the ministry of the interior was confided to m. plehve. his immediate predecessors, though sincere believers in autocracy and very hostile to liberalism of all kinds, considered that the liberal ideas might be rendered harmless by firm passive resistance and mild reactionary measures. he, on the contrary, took a more alarmist view of the situation. his appointment coincided with the revival of terrorism, and he believed that autocracy was in danger. to save it, the only means was, in his opinion, a vigorous, repressive police administration, and as he was a man of strong convictions and exceptional energy, he screwed up his system of police supervision to the sticking-point and applied it to the liberals as well as to the terrorists. in the year , if we may credit information which comes from an apparently trustworthy source, no less than , political affairs were initiated by the police, and , persons were condemned inquisitorially to various punishments without any regular trial. whilst this unpopular rigorism was in full force the war unexpectedly broke out, and added greatly to the existing discontent. very few people in russia had been following closely the recent developments of the far eastern question, and still fewer understood their importance. there seemed to be nothing abnormal in what was taking place. russia was expanding, and would continue to expand indefinitely, in that direction, without any strenuous effort on her part. of course the english would try to arrest her progress as usual by diplomatic notes, but their efforts would be as futile as they had been on all previous occasions. they might incite the japanese to active resistance, but japan would not commit the insane folly of challenging her giant rival to mortal combat. the whole question could be settled in accordance with russian interests, as so many similar questions had been settled in the past, by a little skilful diplomacy; and manchuria could be absorbed, as the contiguous chinese provinces had been forty years ago, without the necessity of going to war. when these comforting illusions were suddenly destroyed by the rupture of diplomatic relations and the naval attack on port arthur, there was an outburst of indignant astonishment. at first the indignation was directed against japan and england, but it soon turned against the home government, which had made no adequate preparations for the struggle, and it was intensified by current rumours that the crisis had been wantonly provoked by certain influential personages for purely personal reasons. how far the accounts of the disorders in the military organisation and the rumours about pilfering in high quarters were true, we need not inquire. true or false, they helped greatly to make the war unpopular, and to stimulate the desire for political changes. under a more liberal and enlightened regime such things were supposed to be impossible, and, as at the time of the crimean war, public opinion decided that autocracy was being tried, and found wanting. so long as the stern, uncompromising plehve was at the ministry of the interior, enjoying the emperor's confidence and directing the police administration, public opinion was prudent and reserved in its utterances, but when he was assassinated by a terrorist (july th, ), and was succeeded by prince sviatopolk mirski, a humane man of liberal views, the constitutionalists thought that the time had come for making known their grievances and demands, and for bringing pressure to bear on the emperor. first came forward the leading members of the zemstvos. after some preliminary consultation they assembled in st. petersburg, with the consent of the authorities, in the hope that they would be allowed to discuss publicly the political wants of the country, and prepare the draft of a constitution. their wishes were only partially acceded to. they were informed semi-officially that their meetings must be private, but that they might send their resolutions to the minister of the interior for transmission to his majesty. a memorandum was accordingly drawn up and signed on november st by out of the representatives present. this hesitating attitude on the part of the government encouraged other sections of the educated classes to give expression to their long pent-up political aspirations. on the heels of the zemstvo delegates appeared the barristers, who discussed the existing evils from the juridical point of view, and prescribed what they considered the necessary remedies. then came municipalities of the large towns, corporations of various kinds, academic leagues, medical faculties, learned societies, and miscellaneous gatherings, all demanding reforms. great banquets were organised, and very strong speeches, which would have led in plehve's time to the immediate arrest of the orators, were delivered and published without provoking police intervention. in the memorandum presented to the minister of the interior by the zemstvo congress, and in the resolutions passed by the other corporate bodies, we see reflected the grievances and aspirations of the great majority of the educated classes. the theory propounded in these documents is that a lawless, arbitrary bureaucracy, which seeks to exclude the people from all participation in the management of public affairs, has come between the nation and the supreme power, and that it is necessary to eliminate at once this baneful intermediary and inaugurate the so-called "reign of law." for this purpose the petitioners and orators demanded: ( ) inviolability of person and domicile, so that no one should be troubled by the police without a warrant from an independent magistrate, and no one punished without a regular trial; ( ) freedom of conscience, of speech, and of the press, together with the right of holding public meetings and forming associations; ( ) greater freedom and increased activity of the local self-government, rural and municipal; ( ) an assembly of freely elected representatives, who should participate in the legislative activity and control the administration in all its branches; ( ) the immediate convocation of a constituent assembly, which should frame a constitution on these lines. of these requirements the last two are considered by far the most important. the truth is that the educated classes have come to be possessed of an ardent desire for genuine parliamentary institutions on a broad, democratic basis, and neither improvements in the bureaucratic organisation, nor even a zemski sobor in the sense of a consultative assembly, would satisfy them. they imagine that with a full-fledged constitution they would be guaranteed, not only against administrative oppression, but even against military reverses such as they have recently experienced in the far east--an opinion in which those who know by experience how military unreadiness and inefficiency can be combined with parliamentary institutions will hardly feel inclined to concur. it may surprise english readers to learn that the corruption and venality of the civil and military administration, of which we have recently heard so much, are nowhere mentioned in the complaints and remonstrances; but the fact is easily accounted for. though corrupt practices undoubtedly exist in some branches of the public service, they are not so universal as is commonly supposed in western europe; and the russian reformers evidently consider that the purifying of the administration is less urgent than the acquisition of political liberties, or that under an enlightened democratic regime the existing abuses would spontaneously disappear. the demands put forward in st. petersburg did not meet with universal approval in moscow. there they seemed excessive and un-russian, and an attempt was made to form a more moderate party. in the ancient capital of the tsars even among the liberals there are not a few who have a sentimental tenderness for the autocratic power, and they argue that parliamentary government would be very dangerous in a country which is still far from being homogeneous or compact. to maintain the integrity of the empire, and to hold the balance equally between the various races and social classes of which the population is composed, it is necessary, they think, to have some permanent authority above the sphere of party spirit and electioneering strife. while admitting that the government in its present bureaucratic form is unsatisfactory and stands in need of being enlightened by the unofficial classes, they think that a consultative assembly on the model of the old zemski sobors would be infinitely better suited to russian wants than a parliament such as that which sits at westminster. for a whole month the government took little notice of the unprecedented excitement and demonstrations. it was not till december th that a reply was given to the public demands. on that day the emperor signed an ukaz in which he enumerated the reforms which he considered most urgent, and instructed the committee of ministers to prepare the requisite legislation. the list of reforms coincided to a certain extent with the demands formulated by the zemstvos, but the document as a whole produced profound disappointment, because it contained no mention of a national assembly. to those who could read between the lines the attitude of the emperor seemed perfectly clear. he was evidently desirous of introducing very considerable reforms, but he was resolved that they must be effected by the unimpaired autocratic power in the old bureaucratic fashion, without any participation of the unofficial world. to obviate any misconception on this point, the government published, simultaneously with the ukaz, an official communication in which it condemned the agitation and excitement, and warned the zemstvos, municipalities, and other corporate bodies that in discussing political questions they were overstepping the limits of their legally-defined functions and exposing themselves to the rigours of the law. as might have been foreseen, the ukaz and the circular had not at all the desired effect of "introducing the necessary tranquillity into public life, which has lately been diverted from its normal course." on the contrary, they increased the excitement, and evoked a new series of public demonstrations. on december th, the very day on which the two official documents were published--the provincial zemstvo of moscow, openly disregarding the ministerial warnings, expressed the conviction that the day was near when the bureaucratic regime, which had so long estranged the supreme power from the people, would be changed, and when freely-elected representatives of the people would take part in legislation. the same evening, at st. petersburg, a great liberal banquet was held, at which a resolution was voted condemning the war, and declaring that russia could be extricated from her difficulties only by the representatives of the nation, freely elected by secret ballot. as an encouragement to the organs of local administration to persevere in their disregard of ministerial instructions, the st. petersburg medical society, after adopting the programme of the zemstvo congress, sent telegrams of congratulation to the mayor of moscow and the president of the tchernigof zemstvo bureau, both of whom had incurred the displeasure of the government. a similar telegram was sent by a congress of engineers to the moscow town council, in which the burning political questions had been freely discussed. in other large towns, when the mayor prevented such discussions, a considerable number of the town councillors resigned. from the zemstvos and municipalities the spirit of opposition spread to the provincial assemblies of the noblesse. the nobles of the province of st. petersburg, for example, voted by a large majority an address to the tsar recommending the convocation of a freely-elected national assembly; and in moscow, usually regarded as the fortress of conservatism, eighty members of the assembly entered a formal protest against a patriotic conservative address which had been voted two days before. even the fair sex considered it necessary to support the opposition movement. the matrons of moscow, in a humble petition to the empress, declared that they could not continue to bring up their children properly in the existing state of unconstitutional lawlessness, and their view was endorsed in several provincial towns by the schoolboys, who marched through the streets in procession, and refused to learn their lessons until popular liberties had been granted! again, for more than a month the government remained silent on the fundamental questions which were exercising the public mind. at last, on the morning of march d, appeared an imperial manifesto of a very unexpected kind. in it the emperor deplored the outbreak of internal disturbances at a moment when the glorious sons of russia were fighting with self-sacrificing bravery and offering their lives for the faith, the tsar, and the fatherland; but he drew consolation and hope from remembering that, with the help of the prayers of the holy orthodox church, under the banner of the tsar's autocratic might, russia had frequently passed through great wars and internal troubles, and had always issued from them with fresh strength. he appealed, therefore, to all right-minded subjects, to whatever class they might belong, to join him in the great and sacred task of overcoming the stubborn foreign foe, and eradicating revolt at home. as for the manner in which he hoped this might be accomplished, he gave a pretty clear indication, at the end of the document, by praying to god, not only for the welfare of his subjects, but also for "the consolidation of autocracy." this extraordinary pronouncement, couched in semi-ecclesiastical language, produced in the liberal world feelings of surprise, disappointment, and dismay. no one was more astonished and dismayed than the ministers, who had known nothing of the manifesto until they saw it in the official gazette. in the course of the forenoon they paid their usual weekly visit to tsarskoe selo, and respectfully submitted to the emperor that such a document must have a deplorable effect on public opinion. in consequence of their representations his majesty consented to supplement the manifesto by a rescript to the minister of the interior, in which he explained that in carrying out his intentions for the welfare of his people the government was to have the co-operation of "the experienced elements of the community." then followed the memorable words: "i am resolved henceforth, with the help of god, to convene the most worthy men, possessing the confidence of the people and elected by them, in order that they may participate in the preparation and consideration of legislative measures." for the carrying out of this resolution a commission, or "special conference," was to be at once convened, under the presidency of m. bulyghin, the minister of the interior. the rescript softened the impression produced by the manifesto, but it did not give general satisfaction, because it contained significant indications that the emperor, while promising to create an assembly of some kind, was still determined to maintain the autocratic power. so at least the public interpreted a vague phase about the difficulty of introducing reforms "while preserving absolutely the immutability of the fundamental laws of the empire." and this impression seemed to be confirmed by the fact that the task of preparing the future representative institutions was confided, not to a constituent assembly, but to a small commission composed chiefly or entirely of officials. in these circumstances the liberals determined to continue the agitation. the bulyghin commission was accordingly inundated with petitions and addresses explaining the wants of the nation in general, and of various sections of it in particular; and when the minister declined to receive deputations and discuss with them the aforesaid wants, the reform question was taken up by a new series of congresses, composed of doctors, lawyers, professors, journalists, etc. even the higher ecclesiastical dignitaries woke up for a moment from their accustomed lethargy, remembered how they had lived for so many years under the rod of m. pobedonostsef, recognised as uncanonical such subordination to a layman, and petitioned for the resurrection of the patriarchate, which had been abolished by peter the great. on may th a new zemstvo congress was held in moscow, and it at once showed that since their november session in st. petersburg the delegates had made a decided movement to the left. those of them who had then led the movement were now regarded as too conservative. the idea of a zemski sobor was discarded as insufficient for the necessities of the situation, and strong speeches were made in support of a much more democratic constitution. it was thus becoming clearer every day that between the liberals and the government there was an essential difference which could not be removed by ordinary concessions. the emperor proved that he was in favour of reform by granting a very large measure of religious toleration, by removing some of the disabilities imposed on the poles, and allowing the polish language to be used in schools, and by confirming the proposals of the committee of ministers to place the press censure on a legal basis. but these concessions to public opinion did not gain for him the sympathy and support of his liberal subjects. what they insisted on was a considerable limitation of the autocratic power; and on that point the emperor has hitherto shown himself inexorable. his firmness proceeds not from any wayward desire to be able to do as he pleases, but from a hereditary respect for a principle. from his boyhood he has been taught that russia owes her greatness and her security to her autocratic form of government, and that it is the sacred duty of the tsar to hand down intact to his successors the power which he holds in trust for them. while the liberals were thus striving to attain their object without popular disorders, and without any very serious infraction of the law, revolutionaries were likewise busy, working on different but parallel lines. in the chapter on the present phase of the revolutionary movement i have sketched briefly the origin and character of the two main socialist groups, and i have now merely to convey a general idea of their attitude during recent events. and first, of the social democrats. at the end of the social democrats were in what may be called their normal condition--that is to say, they were occupied in organising and developing the labour movement. the removal of plehve, who had greatly hampered them by his energetic police administration, enabled them to work more freely, and they looked with a friendly eye on the efforts of the liberal zemstvo-ists; but they took no part in the agitation, because the zemstvo world lay outside their sphere of action. in the labour world, to which they confined their attention, they must have foreseen that a crisis would sooner or later be produced by the war, and that they would then have an excellent opportunity of preaching their doctrine that for all the sufferings of the working classes the government is responsible. what they did not foresee was that serious labour troubles were so near at hand, and that the conflict with the authorities would be accelerated by father gapon. accustomed to regard him as a persistent opponent, they did not expect him to become suddenly an energetic, self-willed ally. hence they were taken unawares, and at first the direction of the movement was by no means entirely in their hands. very soon, however, they grasped the situation, and utilised it for their own ends. it was in great measure due to their secret organisation and activity that the strike in the putilof ironworks, which might easily have been terminated amicably, spread rapidly not only to the other works and factories in st. petersburg, but also to those of moscow, riga, warsaw, lodz, and other industrial centres. though they did not approve of father gapon's idea of presenting a petition to the tsar, the loss of life which his demonstration occasioned was very useful to them in their efforts to propagate the belief that the autocratic power is the ally of the capitalists and hostile to the claims and aspirations of the working classes. the other great socialist group contributed much more largely towards bringing about the present state of things. it was their militant organisation that assassinated plehve, and thereby roused the liberals to action. to them, likewise, is due the subsequent assassination of the grand duke serge, and it is an open secret that they are preparing other acts of terrorism of a similar kind. at the same time they have been very active in creating provincial revolutionary committees, in printing and distributing revolutionary literature, and, above all, in organising agrarian disturbances, which they intend to make a very important factor in the development of events. indeed, it is chiefly by agrarian disturbances that they hope to overthrow the autocratic power and bring about the great economic and social revolution to which the political revolution would be merely the prologue. therein lies a serious danger. after the failure of the propaganda and the insurrectionary agitation in the seventies, it became customary in revolutionary circles to regard the muzhik as impervious to socialist ideas and insurrectionary excitement, but the hope of eventually employing him in the cause never quite died out, and in recent times, when his economic condition in many districts has become critical, attempts have occasionally been made to embarrass the government by agrarian disturbances. the method usually employed is to disseminate among the peasantry by oral propaganda, by printed or hectographed leaflets, and by forged imperial manifestoes, the belief that the tsar has ordered the land of the proprietors to be given to the rural communes, and that his benevolent wishes are being frustrated by the land-owners and the officials. the forged manifesto is sometimes written in letters of gold as a proof of its being genuine, and in one case which i heard of in the province of poltava, the revolutionary agent, wearing the uniform of an aide-de-camp of the emperor, induced the village priest to read the document in the parish church. the danger lies in the fact that, quite independent of revolutionary activity, there has always been, since the time of the emancipation, a widespread belief among the peasantry that they would sooner or later receive the whole of the land. successive tsars have tried personally to destroy this illusion, but their efforts have not been successful. alexander ii., when passing through a province where the idea was very prevalent, caused a number of village elders to be brought before him, and told them in a threatening tone that they must remain satisfied with their allotments and pay their taxes regularly; but the wily peasants could not be convinced that the "general" who had talked to them in this sense was really the tsar. alexander iii. made a similar attempt at the time of his accession. to the volost elders collected together from all parts of the empire, he said: "do not believe the foolish rumours and absurd reports about a redistribution of the land, and addition to your allotments, and such like things. these reports are disseminated by your enemies. every kind of property, your own included, must be inviolable." recalling these words, nicholas ii. confirmed them at his accession, and warned the peasants not to be led astray by evil-disposed persons. notwithstanding these repeated warnings, the peasants still cling to the idea that all the land belongs to them; and the socialist-revolutionaries now announce publicly that they intend to use this belief for the purpose of carrying out their revolutionary designs. in a pamphlet entitled "concerning liberty and the means of obtaining it," they explain their plan of campaign. under the guidance of the revolutionary agents the peasants of each district all over the empire are to make it impossible for the proprietors to work their estates, and then, after driving away the local authorities and rural police, they are to take possession of the estates for their own use. the government, in its vain attempts to dislodge them, will have to employ all the troops at its disposal, and this will give the working classes of the towns, led by the revolutionists, an opportunity of destroying the most essential parts of the administrative mechanism. thus a great social revolution can be successfully accomplished, and any zemski sobor or parliament which may be convoked will merely have to give a legislative sanction to accomplished facts. these three groups--the liberals, the social democrats, and the socialist revolutionaries--constitute what may be called the purely russian opposition. they found their claims and justify their action on utilitarian and philosophic grounds, and demand liberty (in various senses) for themselves and others, independently of race and creed. this distinguishes them from the fourth group, who claim to represent the subject-nationalities, and who mingle nationalist feelings and aspirations with enthusiasm for liberty and justice in the abstract. the policy of russifying these subject-nationalities, which was inaugurated by alexander iii. and maintained by his successor, has failed in its object. it has increased the use of the russian language in official procedure, modified the system of instruction in the schools and universities, and brought, nominally, a few schismatic and heretical sheep into the eastern orthodox fold, but it has entirely failed to inspire the subject-populations with russian feeling and national patriotism; on the contrary, it has aroused in them a bitter hostility to russian nationality, and to the central government. in such of them as have retained their old aspirations of political independence--notably the poles--the semi-latent disaffection has been stimulated; and in those of them which, like the finlanders and the armenians, desire merely to preserve the limited autonomy they formerly enjoyed, a sentiment of disaffection has been created. all of them know very well that in an armed struggle with the dominant russian nationality they would speedily be crushed, as the poles were in . their disaffection shows itself, therefore, merely in resistance to the obligatory military service, and in an undisguised or thinly veiled attitude of systematic hostility, which causes the government some anxiety and prevents it from sending to the far east a large number of troops which would otherwise be available. they hail, however, with delight the liberal and revolutionary movements in the hope that the russians themselves may undermine, and possibly overthrow, the tyrannical autocratic power. towards this end they would gladly co-operate, and they are endeavouring, therefore, to get into touch with each other; but they have so little in common, and so many mutually antagonistic interests, that they are not likely to succeed in forming a solid coalition. while sympathising with every form of opposition to the government, the men of the subject-nationalities reserve their special affection for the socialists, because these not only proclaim, like the liberals, the principles of extensive local self-government and universal equality before the law, but they also speak of replacing the existing system of coercive centralisation by a voluntary confederation of heterogeneous units. this explains why so many poles, armenians and georgians are to be found in the ranks of the social democrats and the socialist-revolutionaries. of the recruits from oppressed nationalities the great majority come from the jews, who, though they have never dreamed of political independence, or even of local autonomy, have most reason to complain of the existing order of things. at all times they have furnished a goodly contingent to the revolutionary movement, and many of them have belied their traditional reputation of timidity and cowardice by taking part in very dangerous terrorist enterprises--in some cases ending their career on the scaffold. in they created a social-democratic organisation of their own, commonly known as the bund, which joined, in , the russian social-democratic labour party, on the understanding that it should retain its independence on all matters affecting exclusively the jewish population.* it now possesses a very ably-conducted weekly organ, and of all sections of the social-democratic group it is unquestionably the best organised. this is not surprising, because the jews have more business capacity than the russians, and centuries of oppression have developed in the race a wonderful talent for secret illegal activity, and for eluding the vigilance of the police. * the official title of this bund is the "universal jewish labour union in russia and poland." its organ is called sovremenniya izvestiya (contemporary news). it would be very interesting to know the numerical strength of these groups, but we have no materials for forming even an approximate estimate. the liberals are certainly the most numerous. they include the great majority of the educated classes, but they are less persistently energetic than their rivals, and their methods of action make less impression on the government. the two socialist groups, though communicative enough with regard to their doctrines and aims, are very reticent with regard to the number of their adherents, and this naturally awakens a suspicion that an authoritative statement on the subject would tend to diminish rather than enhance their importance in the eyes of the public. if statistics of the social democrats could be obtained, it would be necessary to distinguish between the three categories of which the group is composed: ( ) the educated active members, who form the directing, controlling element; ( ) the fully indoctrinated recruits from the working classes; and ( ) workmen who desire merely to better their material condition, but who take part in political demonstrations in the hope of bringing pressure to bear on their employers, and inducing the government to intervene on their behalf. the two socialist groups are not only increasing the number of their adherents; they are also extending and improving their organisation, as is proved by the recent strikes, which are the work of the social democrats, and by the increasing rural disturbances and acts of terrorism, which are the work of the socialist-revolutionaries. with regard to the unorganised nationalist group, all i can do towards conveying a vague, general idea of its numerical strength is to give the numbers of the populations--men, women, and children--of which the nationalist agitators are the self-constituted representatives, without attempting to estimate the percentage of the actively disaffected. the populations in question are: poles , , jews , , finlanders , , armenians , , georgians , ---------- , , if a national assembly were created, in which all the nationalities were represented according to the numbers of the population, the poles, roughly speaking, would have members, the jews , the finlanders , the armenians , and the georgians : whereas the russians would have about . the other subject-nationalities in which symptoms of revolutionary fermentation have appeared are too insignificant to require special mention. as the representatives of the various subject-nationalities are endeavouring to combine, so likewise are the liberals and the two socialist groups trying to form a coalition, and for this purpose they have already held several conferences. how far they will succeed it is impossible to say. on one point--the necessity of limiting or abolishing the autocratic power--they are unanimous, and there seems to be a tacit understanding that for the present they shall work together amicably on parallel lines, each group reserving its freedom of action for the future, and using meanwhile its own customary means of putting pressure on the government. we may expect, therefore, that for a time the liberals will go on holding conferences and congresses in defiance of the police authorities, delivering eloquent speeches, discussing thorny political questions, drafting elaborate constitutions, and making gentle efforts to clog the wheels of the administration,* while the social democrats will continue to organise strikes and semi-pacific demonstrations,** and the socialist-revolutionaries will seek to accelerate the march of events by agrarian disturbances and acts of terrorism. * as an illustration of this i may cite the fact that several zemstvos have declared themselves unable, under present conditions, to support the indigent families of soldiers at the front. ** i call them semi-pacific, because on such occasions the demonstrators are instructed to refrain from violence only so long as the police do not attempt to stop the proceedings by force. it is certain, however, that the parting of the ways will be reached sooner or later, and already there are indications that it is not very far off. liberals and social democrats may perhaps work together for a considerable time, because the latter, though publicly committed to socialistic schemes which the liberals must regard with the strongest antipathy, are willing to accept a constitutional regime during the period of transition. it is difficult, however, to imagine that the liberals, of whom a large proportion are landed proprietors, can long go hand in hand with the socialist-revolutionaries, who propose to bring about the revolution by inciting the peasants to seize unceremoniously the estates, live stock, and agricultural implements of the landlords. already the socialist-revolutionaries have begun to speak publicly of the inevitable rupture in terms by no means flattering to their temporary allies. in a brochure recently issued by their central committee the following passage occurs: "if we consider the matter seriously and attentively, it becomes evident that all the strength of the bourgeoisie lies in its greater or less capacity for frightening and intimidating the government by the fear of a popular rising; but as the bourgeoisie itself stands in mortal terror of the thing with which it frightens the government, its position at the moment of insurrection will be rather ridiculous and pitiable." to understand the significance of this passage, the reader must know that, in the language of the socialists, bourgeoisie and liberals are convertible terms. the truth is that the liberals find themselves in an awkward strategical position. as quiet, respectable members of society they dislike violence of every kind, and occasionally in moments of excitement they believe that they may attain their ends by mere moral pressure, but when they find that academic protests and pacific demonstrations make no perceptible impression on the government, they become impatient and feel tempted to approve, at least tacitly, of stronger measures. many of them do not profess to regard with horror and indignation the acts of the terrorists, and some of them, if i am correctly informed, go so far as to subscribe to the funds of the socialist-revolutionaries without taking very stringent precautions against the danger of the money being employed for the preparation of dynamite and hand grenades. this extraordinary conduct on the part of moderate liberals may well surprise englishmen, but it is easily explained. the russians have a strong vein of recklessness in their character, and many of them are at present imbued with an unquestioning faith in the miracle-working power of constitutionalism. these seem to imagine that as soon as the autocratic power is limited by parliamentary institutions the discontented will cease from troubling and the country will be at rest. it is hardly necessary to say that such expectations are not likely to be realised. all sections of the educated classes may be agreed in desiring "liberty," but the word has many meanings, and nowhere more than in russia at the present day. for the liberals it means simply democratic parliamentary government; for the social democrat it means the undisputed predominance of the proletariat; for the socialist-revolutionary it means the opportunity of realising immediately the socialist ideal; for the representative of a subject-nationality it means the abolition of racial and religious disabilities and the attainment of local autonomy or political independence. there is no doubt, therefore, that in russia, as in other countries, a parliament would develop political parties bitterly hostile to each other, and its early history might contain some startling surprises for those who had helped to create it. if the constitution, for example, were made as democratic as the liberals and socialists demand, the elections might possibly result in an overwhelming conservative majority ready to re-establish the autocratic power! this is not at all so absurd as it sounds, for the peasants, apart from the land question, are thoroughly conservative. the ordinary muzhik can hardly conceive that the emperor's power can be limited by a law or an assembly, and if the idea were suggested to him, he would certainly not approve. in his opinion the tsar should be omnipotent. if everything is not satisfactory in russia, it is because the tsar does not know of the evil, or is prevented from curing it by the tchinovniks and the landed proprietors. "more power, therefore, to his elbow!" as an irishman might say. such is the simple political creed of the "undeveloped" muzhik, and all the efforts of the revolutionary groups to develop him have not yet been attended with much success. how, then, the reader may ask, is an issue to be found out of the present imbroglio? i cannot pretend to speak with authority, but it seems to me that there are only two methods of dealing with the situation: prompt, energetic repression, or timely, judicious concessions to popular feeling. either of these methods might, perhaps, have been successful, but the government adopted neither, and has halted between the two. by this policy of drift it has encouraged the hopes of all, has satisfied nobody, and has diminished its own prestige. in defence or extenuation of this attitude it may be said that there is considerable danger in the adoption of either course. vigorous repression means staking all on a single card, and if it were successful it could not do more than postpone the evil day, because the present antiquated form of government--suitable enough, perhaps, for a simply organised peasant-empire vegetating in an atmosphere of "eternal stillness"--cannot permanently resist the rising tide of modern ideas and aspirations, and is incapable of grappling successfully with the complicated problems of economic and social progress which are already awaiting solution. sooner or later the bureaucratic machine, driven solely by the autocratic power in the teeth of popular apathy or opposition, must inevitably break down, and the longer the collapse is postponed the more violent is it likely to be. on the other hand, it is impossible to foresee the effects of concessions. mere bureaucratic reforms will satisfy no one; they are indeed not wanted except as a result of more radical changes. what all sections of the opposition demand is that the people should at least take part in the government of the country by means of freely elected representatives in parliament assembled. it is useless to argue with them that constitutionalism will certainly not work the miracles that are expected of it, and that in the struggles of political parties which it is sure to produce the unity and integrity of the empire may be endangered. lessons of that kind can only be learned by experience. other countries, it is said, have existed and thriven under free political institutions, and why not russia? why should she be a pariah among the nations? she gave parliamentary institutions to the young nationalities of the balkan peninsula as soon as they were liberated from turkish bondage, and she has not yet been allowed such privileges herself! let us suppose now that the autocratic power has come to feel the impossibility of remaining isolated as it is at present, and that it has decided to seek solid support in some section of the population, what section should it choose? practically it has no choice. the only way of relieving the pressure is to make concessions to the constitutionalists. that course would conciliate, not merely the section of the opposition which calls itself by that name and represents the majority of the educated classes, but also, in a lesser degree, all the other sections. no doubt these latter would accept the concession only as part payment of their demands and a means of attaining ulterior aims. again and again the social democrats have proclaimed publicly that they desire parliamentary government, not as an end in itself, but as a stepping stone towards the realisation of the socialist ideal. it is evident, however, that they would have to remain on this stepping stone for a long series of years--until the representatives of the proletariat obtained an overwhelming majority in the chamber. in like manner the subject-nationalities would regard a parliamentary regime as a mere temporary expedient--a means of attaining greater local and national autonomy--and they would probably show themselves more impatient than the social democrats. any inordinate claims, however, which they might put forward would encounter resistance, as the poles found in , not merely from the autocratic power, but from the great majority of the russian people, who have no sympathy with any efforts tending to bring about the disruption of the empire. in short, as soon as the assembly set to work, the delegates would be sobered by a consciousness of responsibility, differences of opinion and aims would inevitably appear, and the various groups transformed into political parties, instead of all endeavouring as at present to pull down the autocratic power, would expend a great part of their energy in pulling against each other. in order to reach this haven of safety it is necessary to pass through a period of transition, in which there are some formidable difficulties. one of these i may mention by way of illustration. in creating parliamentary institutions of any kind the government could hardly leave intact the present system of allowing the police to arrest without a proper warrant, and send into exile without trial, any one suspected of revolutionary designs. on this point all the opposition groups are agreed, and all consequently put forward prominently the demand for the inviolability of person and domicile. to grant such a concession seems a very simple and easy matter, but any responsible minister might hesitate to accept such a restriction of his authority. we know, he would argue, that the terrorist section of the socialist-revolutionary group, the so-called militant organisation, are very busy preparing bombs, and the police, even with the extensive, ill-defined powers which they at present possess, have the greatest difficulty in preventing the use of such objectionable instruments of political warfare. would not the dynamiters and throwers of hand-grenades utilise a relaxation of police supervision, as they did in the time of louis melikof,* for carrying out their nefarious designs? * vide supra, p. . i have no desire to conceal or minimise such dangers, but i believe they are temporary and by no means so great as the dangers of the only other alternatives--energetic repression and listless inactivity. terrorism and similar objectionable methods of political warfare are symptoms of an abnormal, unhealthy state of society, and would doubtless disappear in russia, as they have disappeared in other countries, with the conditions which produced them. if the terrorists continued to exist under a more liberal regime, they would be much less formidable, because they would lose the half-concealed sympathy which they at present enjoy. political assassinations may occasionally take place under the most democratic governments, as the history of the united states proves, but terrorism as a system is to be found only in countries where the political power is concentrated in the hands of a few individuals; and it sometimes happens that irresponsible persons are exposed to terrorist attacks. we have an instance of this at present in st. petersburg. the reluctance of the emperor to adopt at once a liberal programme is commonly attributed to the influence of two members of the imperial family, the empress dowager and the grand duke vladimir. this is a mistake. neither of these personages is so reactionary as is generally supposed, and their political views, whatever they may be, have no appreciable influence on the course of affairs. if the empress dowager had possessed the influence so often ascribed to her, m. plehve would not have remained so long in power. as for the grand duke vladimir, he is not in favour, and for nearly two years he has never been consulted on political matters. the so-called grand ducal party of which he is supposed to be the leader, is a recently invented fiction. when in difficulties the emperor may consult individually some of his near relatives, but there is no coherent group to which the term party could properly be applied. as soon as the autocratic power has decided on a definite line of action, it is to be hoped that a strong man will be found to take the direction of affairs. in russia, as in other autocratically governed countries, strong men in the political sense of the term are extremely rare, and when they do appear as a lusus naturae they generally take their colour from their surroundings, and are of the authoritative, dictatorial type. during recent years only two strong men have come to the front in the russian official world. the one was m. plehve, who was nothing if not authoritative and dictatorial, and who is no longer available for experiments in repression or constitutionalism. the other is m. witte. as an administrator under an autocratic regime he has displayed immense ability and energy, but it does not follow that he is a statesman capable of piloting the ship into calm waters, and he is not likely to have an opportunity of making the attempt, for he does not--to state the case mildly--possess the full confidence of his august master. even if a strong man, enjoying fully the imperial confidence, could be found, the problem would not be thereby completely and satisfactorily solved, because an autocrat, who is the lord's anointed, cannot delegate his authority to a simple mortal without losing something of the semi-religious halo and the prestige on which his authority rests. while a roi faineant may fulfil effectively all the essential duties of sovereignty, an autocrate faineant is an absurdity. in these circumstances, it is idle to speculate as to the future. all we can do is to await patiently the development of events, and in all probability it is the unexpected that will happen. the reader doubtless feels that i am offering a very lame and impotent conclusion, and i must confess that i am conscious of this feeling myself, but i think i may fairly plead extenuating circumstances. happily for my peace of mind i am a mere observer who is not called upon to invent a means of extricating russia from her difficult position. for that arduous task there are already brave volunteers enough in the field. all i have to do is to explain as clearly as i can the complicated problem to be solved. nor do i feel it any part of my duty to make predictions. i believe i am pretty well acquainted with the situation at the present moment, but what it may be a few weeks hence, when the words i am now writing issue from the press, i do not profess to foresee. and the online proofreading team. from october to brest-litovsk by leon trotzky authorized translation from the russian translator's notes: . in this book trotzky (until near the end) uses the russian calendar in indicating dates, which, as the reader will recall, is days behind the gregorian calendar, now introduced in russia. . the abbreviation s. r. and s. r.'s is often used for "social-revolutionist(s)" or "socialist-revolutionaries." . "maximalist" often appears instead of "bolshevik," and "minimalist" instead of "menshevik." the middle-class intellectuals in the revolution events move so quickly at this time, that it is hard to set them down from memory even in chronological sequence. neither newspapers nor documents are at our disposal. and vet the repeated interruptions in the brest-litovsk negotiations create a suspense which, under present circumstances, is no longer bearable. i shall endeavor, therefore, to recall the course and the landmarks of the october revolution, reserving the right to complete and correct this exposition subsequently in the light of documents. what characterized our party almost from the very first period of the revolution, was the conviction that it would ultimately come into power through the logic of events. i do not refer to the theorists of the party, who, many years before the revolution--even before the revolution of --as a result of their analysis of class relations in russia, came to the conclusion that the triumphant development of the revolution must inevitably transfer the power to the proletariat, supported by the vast masses of the poorest peasants. the chief basis of this prognosis was the insignificance of the russian bourgeois democracy and the concentrated character of russian industrialism--which makes of the russian proletariat a factor of tremendous social importance. the insignificance of bourgeois democracy is but the complement of the power and significance of the proletariat. it is true, the war has deceived many on this point, and, first of all, the leading groups of bourgeois democracy themselves. the war has assigned a decisive role in the events of the revolution to the army. the old army meant the peasantry. had the revolution developed more normally--that is, under peaceful circumstances, as it had in --the proletariat would always have held a dominant position, while the peasant masses would gradually have been taken in tow by the proletariat and drawn into the whirlpool of the revolution. but the war produced an altogether different succession of events. the army welded the peasants together, not by a political, but by a military tie. before the peasant masses could be drawn together by revolutionary demands and ideas, they were already organized in regimental staffs, divisions and army corps. the representatives of petty bourgeois democracy, scattered through this army and playing a leading role in it, both in a military and in a conceptual way, were almost completely permeated with middle-class revolutionary tendencies. the deep social discontent in the masses became more acute and was bound to manifest itself, particularly because of the military shipwreck of czarism. the proletariat, as represented in its advanced ranks, began, as soon as the revolution developed, to revive the tradition and called upon the masses of the people to organize in the form of representative bodies--soviets, consisting of deputies. the army was called upon to send its representatives to the revolutionary organizations before its political conscience caught up in any way with the rapid course of the revolution. whom could the soldiers send as deputies? eventually, those representatives of the intellectuals and semi-intellectuals who chanced to be among them and who possessed the least bit of knowledge of political affairs and could make this knowledge articulate. in this way, the petty bourgeois intellectuals were at once and of necessity raised to great prominence in the awakening army. doctors, engineers, lawyers, journalists and volunteers, who under pre-bellum conditions led a rather retired life and made no claim to any importance, suddenly found themselves representative of whole corps and armies and felt that they were "leaders" of the revolution. the nebulousness of their political ideology fully corresponded with the formlessness of the revolutionary consciousness of the masses. these elements were extremely condescending toward us "sectarians," for we expressed the social demands of the workers and the peasants most pointedly and uncompromisingly. at the same time, the petty bourgeois democracy, with the arrogance of revolutionary upstarts, harbored the deepest mistrust of itself and of the very masses who had raised it to such unexpected heights. calling themselves socialists, and considering themselves such, the intellectuals were filled with an ill-disguised respect for the political power of the liberal bourgeoisie, towards their knowledge and methods. to this was due the effort of the petty bourgeois leaders to secure, at any cost, a cooperation, union, or coalition with the liberal bourgeoisie. the programme of the social-revolutionists--created wholly out of nebulous humanitarian formulas, substituting sentimental generalizations and moralistic superstructures for a class-conscious attitude, proved to be the thing best adapted for a spiritual vestment of this type of leaders. their efforts in one way or another to prop up their spiritual and political helplessness by the science and politics of the bourgeoisie which so overawed them, found its theoretical justification in the teachings of the mensheviki, who explained that the present revolution was a bourgeois revolution, and therefore could not succeed without the participation of the bourgeoisie in the government. in this way, the natural bloc of social-revolutionists and mensheviki was created, which gave simultaneous expression to the political lukewarmness of the middle-class intellectuals and its relation of vassal to imperialistic liberalism. it was perfectly clear to us that the logic of the class struggle would, sooner or later, destroy this temporary combination and cast aside the leaders of the transition period. the hegemony of the petty bourgeois intellectuals meant, in reality, that the peasantry, which had suddenly been called, through the agency of the military machine, to an organized participation in political life, had, by mere weight of numbers, overshadowed the working class and temporarily dislodged it. more than this: to the extent that the middle-class leaders had suddenly been lifted to terrific heights by the mere bulk of the army, the proletariat itself, and its advanced minority, had been discounted, and could not but acquire a certain political respect for them and a desire to preserve a political bond with them; it might otherwise be in danger of losing contact with the peasantry. in the memories of the older generation of workingmen, the lesson of was firmly fixed; then, the proletariat was defeated just because the heavy peasant reserves did not arrive in time for the decisive battle. this is why in this first period of the revolution even the masses of workingmen proved so much more receptive to the political ideology of the social-revolutionists and the mensheviki. all the more so, since the revolution had awakened the hitherto dormant and backward proletarian masses, thus making uninformed intellectual radicalism into a preparatory school for them. the soviets of workingmen's, soldiers' and peasants' deputies meant, under these circumstances, the domination of peasant formlessness over proletarian socialism, and the domination of intellectual radicalism over peasant formlessness. the soviet institution rose so rapidly, and to such prominence, largely because the intellectuals, with their technical knowledge and bourgeois connections, played a leading part in the work of the soviet. it was clear to us, however, that the whole inspiring structure was based upon the deepest inner contradictions, and that its downfall during the next phase of the revolution was quite inevitable. the revolution grew directly out of the war, and the war became the great test for all parties and revolutionary forces. the intellectual leaders were "against the war." many of them, under the czarist regime, had considered themselves partisans of the left wing of the internationale, and subscribed to the zimmerwald resolution. but everything changed suddenly when they found themselves in responsible "posts." to adhere to the policy of revolutionary socialism meant, under those circumstances, to break with the bourgeoisie, their own and that of the allies. and we have already said that the political helplessness of the intellectual and semi-intellectual middle class sought shelter for itself in a union with bourgeois liberalism. this caused the pitiful and truly shameful attitude of the middle-class leaders towards the war. they confined themselves to sighs, phrases, secret exhortations or appeals addressed to the allied governments, while they were actually following the same path as the liberal bourgeoisie. the masses of soldiers in the trenches could not, of course, reach the conclusion that the war, in which they had participated for nearly three years, had changed its character merely because certain new persons, who called themselves "social-revolutionists" or "mensheviki," were taking part in the petrograd government. milyukov displaced the bureaucrat pokrovsky; tereshtchenko displaced milyukov--which means that bureaucratic treachery had been replaced first by militant cadet imperialism, then by an unprincipled, nebulous and political subserviency; but it brought no objective changes, and indicated no way out of the terrible war. just in this lies the primary cause of the subsequent disorganization of the army. the agitators told the soldiers that the czarist government had sent them into slaughter without any rime or reason. but those who replaced the czar could not in the least change the character of the war, just as they could not find their way clear for a peace campaign. the first months were spent in merely marking time. this tried the patience both of the army and of the allied governments, and prompted the drive of june , which was demanded by the allies, who insisted upon the fulfillment of the old czarist obligations. scared by their own helplessness and by the growing impatience of the masses, the leaders of the middle class complied with this demand. they actually began to think that, in order to obtain peace, it was only necessary for the russian army to make a drive. such a drive seemed to offer a way out of the difficult situation, a real solution of the problem--salvation. it is hard to imagine a more amazing and more criminal delusion. they spoke of the drive in those days in the same terms that were used by the social-patriots of all countries in the first days and weeks of the war, when speaking of the necessity of supporting the cause of national defence, of strengthening the holy alliance of nations, etc., etc. all their zimmerwald internationalistic infatuations had vanished as if by magic. to us, who were in uncompromising opposition, it was clear that the drive was beset with terrible danger, threatening perhaps the ruin of the revolution itself. we sounded the warning that the army, which had been awakened and deeply stirred by the tumultuous events which it was still far from comprehending, could not be sent into battle without giving it new ideas which it could recognize as its own. we warned, accused, threatened. but as for the dominant party, tied up as it was with the allied bourgeoisie, there was no other course; we were naturally threatened with enmity, with bitter hatred. the campaign against the bolsheviki the future historian will look over the pages of the russian newspapers for may and june with considerable emotion, for it was then that the agitation for the drive was being carried on. almost every article, without exception, in all the governmental and official newspapers, was directed against the bolsheviki. there was not an accusation, not a libel, that was not brought up against us in those days. the leading role in the campaign was played, of course, by the cadet bourgeoisie, who were prompted by their class instincts to the knowledge that it was not only a question of a drive, but also of all the further developments of the revolution, and primarily of the fate of government control. the bourgeoisie's machinery of "public opinion" revealed itself here in all its power. all the organs, organizations, publications, tribunes and pulpits were pressed into the service of a single common idea: to make the bolsheviki impossible as a political party. the concerted effort and the dramatic newspaper campaign against the bolsheviki already foreshadowed the civil war which was to develop during the next stage of the revolution. the purpose of the bitterness of this agitation and libel was to create a total estrangement and irrepressible enmity between the laboring masses, on the one hand, and the "educated elements" on the other. the liberal bourgeoisie understood that it could not subdue the masses without the aid and intercession of the middle-class democracy, which, as we have already pointed out, proved to be temporarily the leader of the revolutionary organizations. therefore, the immediate object of the political baiting of the bolsheviki was to raise irreconcilable enmity between our party and the vast masses of the "socialistic intellectuals," who, if they were alienated from the proletariat, could not but come under the sway of the liberal bourgeoisie. during the first all-russian council of soviets came the first alarming peal of thunder, foretelling the terrible events that were coming. the party designated the th of june as the day for an armed demonstration at petrograd. its immediate purpose was to influence the all-russian council of soviets. "take the power into your own hands"--is what the petrograd workingman wanted to say plainly to the social-revolutionists and the mensheviki. "sever relations with the bourgeoisie, give up the idea of coalition, and take the power into your own hands." to us it was clear that the break between the social-revolutionists and the mensheviki on the one hand, and the liberal bourgeoisie on the other, would compel the former to seek the support of the more determined, advanced organization of the proletariat, which would thus be assured of playing a leading role. and this is exactly what frightened the middle-class leaders. together with the government, in which they had their representatives, and hand in hand with the liberal and counter-revolutionary bourgeoisie, they began a furious and insane campaign against the proposed demonstration, as soon as they heard of it. all their forces were marshalled against us. we had an insignificant minority in the council and withdrew. the demonstration did not take place. but this frustrated demonstration left the deepest bitterness in the minds of the two opposing forces, widened the breach and intensified their hatred. at a secret conference of the executive committee of the council, in which representatives of the minority participated, tseretelli, then minister of the coalition government, with all the arrogance of a narrow-minded middle-class doctrinaire, said that the only danger threatening the revolution was the bolsheviki and the petrograd proletariat armed by them. from this he concluded that it was necessary to disarm the people, who "did not know how to handle fire-arms." this referred to the workingmen and to those parts of the petrograd garrison who were with our party. however, the disarming did not take place. for such a sharp measure the political and psychological conditions were not yet quite ripe. to afford the masses some compensation for the demonstration they had missed, the council of soviets called a general unarmed demonstration for the th of june. but it was just this very day that marked the political triumph of our party. the masses poured into the streets in mighty columns; and, despite the fact that they were called out by the official soviet organization, to counteract our intended demonstration of the th of june, the workingmen and soldiers had inscribed on their banners and placards the slogans of our party: "down with secret treaties," "down with political drives," "long live a just peace!" "down with the ten capitalistic ministers," and "all power to the soviets." of placards expressing confidence in the coalition government there were but three one from a cossack regiment, another from the plekhanov group, and the third from the petrograd organization of the bund, composed mostly of non-proletarian elements. this demonstration showed not only to our enemies, but also to ourselves as well that we were much stronger in petrograd than was generally supposed. the drive of june th a governmental crisis, as a result of the demonstration by these revolutionary bodies, appeared absolutely inevitable. but the impression produced by the demonstration was lost as soon as it was reported from the front that the revolutionary army had advanced to attack the enemy. on the very day that the workingmen and the petrograd garrison demanded the publication of the secret treaties and an open offer of peace, kerensky flung the revolutionary troops into battle. this was no mere coincidence, to be sure. the projectors had everything prepared in advance, and the time of attack was determined not by military but by political considerations. on the th of june, there was a so-called patriotic demonstration in the streets of petrograd. the nevsky prospect, the chief artery of the bourgeoisie, was studded with excited groups, in which army officers, journalists and well-dressed ladies were carrying on a bitter campaign against the bolsheviki. the first reports of the military drive were favorable. the leading liberal papers considered that the principal aim had been attained, that the drive of june , regardless of its ultimate military results, would deal a mortal blow to the revolution, restore the army's former discipline, and assure the liberal bourgeoisie of a commanding position in the affairs of the government. we, however, indicated to the bourgeoisie a different line of future events. in a special declaration which we made in the soviet council a few days before the drive, we declared that the military advance would inevitably destroy all the internal ties within the army, set up its various parts one against the other and turn the scales heavily in favor of the counter-revolutionary elements, since it would be impossible to maintain discipline in a demoralized army--an army devoid of controlling ideas--without recourse to severe repressive measures. in other words, we foretold in this declaration those results which later came to be known collectively under the name of "kornilovism." we believed that the greatest danger threatened the revolution in either case--whether the drive proved successful, which we did not expect, or met with failure, which seemed to us almost inevitable. a successful military advance would have united the middle class and the bourgeoisie in their common chauvinistic tendencies, thus isolating the revolutionary proletariat. an unsuccessful drive was likely to demoralize the army completely, to involve a general retreat and the loss of much additional territory, and to bring disgust and disappointment to the people. events took the latter course. the news of victory did not last long. it was soon replaced by gloomy reports of the refusal of many regiments to support the advancing columns, of the great losses in commanding officers, who sometimes composed the whole of the attacking units, etc. in view of its great historical significance, we append an extract from the document issued by our party in the all-russian council of soviets on the rd of june, , just two weeks before the drive. * * * * * "we deem it necessary to present, as the first order of the day, a question on whose solution depend not only all the other measures to be adopted by the council, but actually and literally the fate of the whole russian revolution the question of the military drive which is being planned for the immediate future. "having put the people and the army, which does not know in the name of what international ends it is called upon to shed its blood, face to face with the impending attack (with all its consequences), the counter-revolutionary circles of russia are counting on the fact that this drive will necessitate a concentration of power in the hands of the military, diplomatic, and capitalistic groups affiliated with english, french and american imperialism, and thus free them from the necessity of reckoning later with the organized will of russian democracy. "the secret counter-revolutionary instigators of the drive, who do not stop short even of military adventurism, are consciously trying to play on the demoralization in the army, brought about by the internal and international situation of the country, and to this end are inspiring the discouraged elements with the fallacious idea that the very fact of a drive can rehabilitate the army--and by this mechanical means hide the lack of a definite program for liquidating the war. at the same time, it is clear that such an advance cannot but completely disorganize the army by setting up its various units one against the other." * * * * * the military events were developing amid ever increasing difficulties in the internal life of the nation. with regard to the land question, industrial life, and national relations, the coalition government did not take a single resolute step forward. the food and transportation situations were becoming more and more disorganized. local clashes were growing more frequent. the "socialistic" ministers were exhorting the masses to be patient. all decisions and measures, including the calling of the constituent assembly, were being postponed. the insolvency and the instability of the coalition regime were obvious. there were two possible ways out: to drive the bourgeoisie out of power and promote the aims of the revolution, or to adopt the policy of "bridling" the people by resorting to repressive measures. kerensky and tseretelli clung to a middle course and only muddled matters the more. when the cadets, the wiser and more far-sighted leaders of the coalition government, understood that the unsuccessful military advance of june th might deal a blow not only to the revolution, but also to the government temporarily, they threw the whole weight of responsibility upon their allies to the left. on the nd of july came a crisis in the ministry, the immediate cause of which was the ukrainian question. this was in every respect a period of most intense political suspense. from various points at the front came delegates and private individuals, telling of the chaos which reigned in the army as a result of the advance. the so-called government press demanded severe repressions. such demands frequently came from the so-called socialistic papers, also kerensky, more and more openly, went over to the side of the cadets and the cadet generals, who had manifested not only their hatred of revolution, but also their bitter enmity toward revolutionary parties in general. the allied ambassadors were pressing the government with the demand that army discipline be restored and the advance continued. the greatest panic prevailed in government circles, while among the workingmen much discontent had accumulated, which craved for outward expression. "avail yourselves of the resignations of the cadet ministers and take all the power into your own hands!" was the call addressed by the workingmen of petrograd to the socialist-revolutionists and mensheviki in control of the soviet parties. i recall the session of the executive committee which was held on the nd of july. the soviet ministers came to report a new crisis in the government. we were intensely interested to learn what position they would take now that they had actually gone to pieces under the great ordeals arising from coalition policies. their spokesman was tseretelli. he nonchalantly explained to the executive committee that those concessions which he and tereshchenko had made to the kiev rada did not by any means signify a dismemberment of the country, and that this, therefore, did not give the cadets any good reason for leaving the ministry. tseretelli accused the cadet leaders of practising a centralistic doctrinairism, of failing to understand the necessity for compromising with the ukrainians, etc., etc. the total impression was pitiful in the extreme: the hopeless doctrinaire of the coalition government was hurling the charge of doctrinairism against the crafty capitalist politicians who seized upon the first suitable excuse for compelling their political clerks to repent of the decisive turn they had given to the course of events by the military advance of june th. after all the preceding experience of the coalition, there would seem to be but one way out of the difficulty--to break with the cadets and set up a soviet government. the relative forces within the soviets were such at the time that the soviet's power as a political party would fall naturally into the hands of the social-revolutionists and the mensheviki. we deliberately faced the situation. thanks to the possibility of reelections at any time, the mechanism of the soviets assured a sufficiently exact reflection of the progressive shift toward the left in the masses of workers and soldiers. after the break of the coalition with the bourgeoisie, the radical tendencies should, we expected, receive a greater following in the soviet organizations. under such circumstances, the proletariat's struggle for power would naturally move in the channel of soviet organizations and could take a more normal course. having broken with the bourgeoisie, the middle-class democracy would itself fall under their ban and would be compelled to seek a closer union with the socialistic proletariat. in this way the indecisiveness and political indefiniteness of the middle-class democratic elements would be overcome sooner or later by the working masses, with the help of our criticism. this is the reason why we demanded that the leading soviet parties, in which we had no real confidence (and we frankly said so), should take the governing power into their own hands. but even after the ministerial crisis of the nd of july, tseretelli and his adherents did not abandon the coalition idea. they explained in the executive committee that the leading cadets were, indeed, demoralized by doctrinairism and even by counter-revolutionism, but that in the provinces there were still many bourgeois elements which could still go hand in hand with the revolutionary democrats, and that in order to make sure of their co-operation it was necessary to attract representatives of the bourgeoisie into the membership of the new ministry. dan already entertained hopes of a radical-democratic party to be hastily built up, at the time, by a few pro-democratic politicians. the report that the coalition government had been broken up, only to be replaced by a new coalition, spread rapidly through petrograd and provoked a storm of indignation among the workingmen and soldiers everywhere. thus the events of july rd- th were produced. the july days already during the session of the executive committee we were informed by telephone that a regiment of machine-gunners was making ready for attack. by telephone, too, we adopted measures to check these preparations, but the ferment was working among the people. representatives of military units that had been disciplined for insubordination brought alarming news from the front, of repressions which aroused the garrison. among the petrograd workingmen the displeasure with the official leaders was intensified also by the fact that tseretelli, dan and cheidze misrepresented the general views of the proletariat in their endeavor to prevent the petrograd soviet from becoming the mouthpiece of the new tendencies of the toilers. the all-russian executive committee, formed in the july council and depending upon the more backward provinces, put the petrograd soviet more and more into the background and took all matters into its own hands, including even local petrograd affairs. a clash was inevitable. the workers and soldiers pressed from below, vehemently voiced their discontent with the official soviet policies and demanded greater resolution from our party. we considered that, in view of the backwardness of the provinces, the time for such a course had not yet arrived. at the same time, we feared that the events taking place at the front might bring extreme chaos into the revolutionary ranks, and desperation to the hearts of the people. the attitude of our party toward the movement of july rd- th was quite well defined. on the one hand, there was the danger that petrograd might break away from the more backward parts of the country; while on the other, there was the feeling that only the active and energetic intervention of petrograd could save the day. the party agitators who worked among the people were working in harmony with the masses, conducting an uncompromising campaign. there was still some hope that the demonstration of the revolutionary masses in the streets might destroy the blind doctrinairism of the coalitionists and make them understand that they could retain their power only by breaking openly with the bourgeoisie. despite all that had recently been said and written in the bourgeois press, our party had no intention whatever of seizing power by means of an armed revolt. in point of fact, the revolutionary demonstration started spontaneously, and was guided by us only in a political way. the central executive committee was holding its session in the taurida palace, when turbulent crowds of armed soldiers and workmen surrounded it from all sides. among them was, of course, an insignificant number of anarchistic elements, which were ready to use their arms against the soviet center. there were also some "pogrom" elements, black-hundred elements, and obviously mercenary elements, seeking to utilize the occasion for instigating pogroms and chaos. from among the sundry elements came the demands for the arrest of chernoff and tseretelli, for the dispersal of the executive committee, etc. an attempt was even made to arrest chernoff. subsequently, at kresty, i identified one of the sailors who had participated in this attempt; he was a criminal, imprisoned at kresty for robbery. but the bourgeois and the coalitionist press represented this movement as a pogromist, counter-revolutionary affair, and, at the same time, as a bolshevist crusade, the immediate object of which was to seize the reins of government by the use of armed force against the central executive committee. the movement of july rd- th had already disclosed with perfect clearness that a complete impotence reigned within the ruling soviet parties at petrograd. the garrison was far from being all on our side. there were still some wavering, undecided, passive elements. but if we should ignore the junkers, there were no regiments at all which were ready to fight us in the defense of the government or the leading soviet parties. it was necessary to summon troops from the front. the entire strategy of tseretelli, chernoff, and others on the rd of july resolved itself into this: to gain time in order to give kerensky an opportunity to bring up his "loyal" regiments. one deputation after another entered the hall of the taurida palace, which was surrounded by armed crowds, and demanded a complete separation from the bourgeoisie, positive social reforms, and the opening of peace negotiations. we, the bolsheviki, met every new company of disgruntled troops gathered in the yards and streets, with speeches, in which we called upon them to be calm and assured them that, in view of the present temper of the people, the coalitionists could not succeed in forming a new coalition. especially pronounced was the temper of the kronstadt sailors, whom we had to restrain from transcending the limits of a peaceful demonstration. the fourth demonstration, which was already controlled by our party, assumed a still more serious character. the soviet leaders were quite at sea; their speeches assumed an evasive character; the answers given by cheidze to the deputies were without any political content. it was clear that the official leaders were marking time. on the night of the th the "loyal" regiments began to arrive. during the session of the executive committee the taurida palace resounded to the strains of the marseillaise. the expression on the faces of the leaders suddenly changed. they displayed a look of confidence which had been entirely wanting of late. it was produced by the entry into the taurida palace of the volynsk regiment, the same one, which, a few months later, was to lead the vanguard of the october revolution, under our banners. from this moment, everything changed. there was no longer any need to handle the delegates of the petrograd workmen and soldiers with kid gloves. speeches were made from the floor of the executive committee, which referred to an armed insurrection that had been "suppressed" on that very day by loyal revolutionary forces. the bolsheviki were declared to be a counter-revolutionary party. the fear experienced by the liberal bourgeoisie during the two days of armed demonstration betrayed itself in a hatred that was crystallized not only in the columns of the newspapers, but also in the streets of petrograd, and more especially on the nevsky prospect, where individual workmen and soldiers caught in the act of "criminal" agitation were mercilessly beaten up. the junkers, army-officers, policemen, and the st. georgian cavaliers were now the masters of the situation. and all these were headed by the savage counter-revolutionists. the workers' organizations and establishments of our party were being ruthlessly crushed and demolished. arrests, searches, assaults and even murders came to be common occurrences. on the night of the th the then attorney-general, pereverzev, handed over to the press "documents" which were intended to prove that the bolshevist party was headed by bribed agents of germany. the leaders of the social-revolutionist and menshevik parties have known us too long and too well to believe these accusations. at the same time, they were too deeply interested in their success to repudiate them publicly. and even now one cannot recall without disgust that saturnalia of lies which was celebrated broadcast in all the bourgeois and coalition newspapers. our organs were suppressed. revolutionary petrograd felt that the provinces and the army were still far from being with it. in workingmen's sections of the city a short period of tyrannical infringements set in, while in the garrison repressive measures were introduced against the disorganized regiments, and certain of its units were disarmed. at the same time, the political leaders manufactured a new ministry, with the inclusion of representatives of third-rate bourgeois groups, which, although adding nothing to the government, robbed it of its last vestige of revolutionary initiative. meanwhile events at the front ran their own course. the organic unity of the army was shaken to its very depths. the soldiers were becoming convinced that the great majority of the officers, who, at the beginning of the revolution, bedaubed themselves with red revolutionary paint, were still very inimical to the new regime. an open selection of counter-revolutionary elements was being made in the lines. bolshevik publications were ruthlessly persecuted. the military advance had long ago changed into a tragic retreat. the bourgeois press madly libelled the army. whereas, on the eve of the advance, the ruling parties told us that we were an insignificant gang and that the army had never heard of us and would not have anything to do with us, now, when the gamble of the drive had ended so disastrously, these same persons and parties laid the whole blame for its failure on our shoulders. the prisons were crowded with revolutionary workers and soldiers. all the old legal bloodhounds of czarism were employed in investigating the july - affair. under these circumstances, the social-revolutionsts and the alensheviki went so far as to demand that lenin, zinoviev and others of their group should surrender themselves to the "courts of justice." the events following the july days the infringements of liberty in the working-men's quarters lasted but a little while and were followed by accessions of revolutionary spirit, not only among the proletariat, but also in the petrograd garrison. the coalitionists were losing all influence. the wave of bolshevism began to spread from the urban centers to every part of the country and, despite all obstacles, penetrated into the army ranks. the new coalition government, with kerensky at its head, had already openly embarked upon a policy of repression. the ministry had restored the death penalty in the army. our papers were suppressed and our agitators were arrested; but this only increased our influence. in spite of all the obstacles involved in the new elections for the petrograd soviet, the distribution of power in it had become so changed that on certain important questions we already commanded a majority vote. the same was the case in the moscow soviet. at that time i, together with many others, was imprisoned at kresty, having been arrested for instigating and organizing the armed revolt of july - , in collusion with the german authorities, and with the object of furthering the military ends of the hohenzollerns. the famous prosecutor of the czarist regime, aleksandrov, who had prosecuted numerous revolutionists, was now entrusted with the task of protecting the public from the counter-revolutionary bolsheviki. under the old regime the inmates of prisons used to be divided into political prisoners and criminals. now a new terminology was established: criminals and bolsheviks. great perplexity reigned among the imprisoned soldiers. the boys came from the country and had previously taken no part in political life. they thought that the revolution had set them free, once and for all. hence they viewed with amazement their doorlocks and grated windows. while taking their exercise in the prison-yard, they would always ask me what all this meant and how it would end. i comforted them with the hope of our ultimate victory. toward the end of august occurred the revolt of korniloff; this was the immediate result of the mobilization of the counter-revolutionary forces to which a forceful impulse had been imparted by the attack of july th. at the celebrated moscow congress, which took place in the middle of august, kerensky attempted to take a middle ground between the propertied elements and the democracy of the small bourgeoisie. the maximalists were on the whole considered as standing beyond the bounds of the "legal." kerensky threatened them with blood and iron, which met with vehement applause from the propertied half of the gathering, and treacherous silence on the part of the bourgeois democracy. but the hysterical outcries and threats of kerensky did not satisfy the chiefs of the counter-revolutionary interests. they had only too clearly observed the revolutionary tide flooding every portion of the country, among the working class, in the villages, in the army; and they considered it imperative to adopt without any delay the most extreme measures to curb the masses. after reaching an understanding with the property-owning bourgeoisie--who saw in him their hero--korniloff took it upon himself to accomplish this hazardous task. kerensky, savinkoff, filonenko and other socialist-revolutionists of the government or semi-government class participated in this conspiracy, but each and every one of them at a certain stage of the altering circumstances betrayed korniloff, for they knew that in the case of his defeat, they would turn out to have been on the wrong side of the fence. we lived through the events connected with korniloff, while we were in jail, and followed them in the newspapers; the unhindered delivery of newspapers was the only important respect in which the jails of kerensky differed from those of the old regime. the cossack general's adventure miscarried; six months of revolution had created in the consciousness of the masses and in their organization a sufficient resistance against an open counter-revolutionary attack. the conciliable soviet parties were terribly frightened at the prospect of the possible results of the korniloff conspiracy, which threatened to sweep away, not only the maximalists, but also the whole revolution, together with its governing parties. the social-revolutionists and the minimalists proceeded to legalize the maximalists--this, to be sure, only retrospectively and only half-way, inasmuch as they scented possible dangers in the future. the very same kronstadt sailors--whom they had dubbed burglars and counter-revolutionists in the days following the july uprising--were summoned during the korniloff danger to petrograd for the defence of the revolution. they came without a murmur, without a word of reproach, without recalling the past, and occupied the most responsible posts. i had the fullest right to recall to tseretelli these words which i had addressed to him in may, when he was occupied in persecuting the kronstadt sailors: "when a counter-revolutionary general attempts to throw the noose around the neck; of the revolution, the cadets will grease the rope with soap, while the kronstadt sailors will come to fight and die together with us." the soviet organizations had revealed everywhere, in the rear and at the front, their vitality and their power in the struggle with the korniloff uprising. in almost no instance did things ever come to a military conflict. the revolutionary masses ground into nothingness the general's conspiracy. just as the moderates in july found no soldiers among the petrograd garrison to fight against us, so now korniloff found no soldiers on the whole front to fight against the revolution. he had acted by virtue of a delusion and the words of our propaganda easily destroyed his designs. according to information in the newspapers, i had expected a more rapid unfolding of subsequent events in the direction of the passing of the power into the hands of the soviets. the growth of the influence and power of the maximalists became indubitable and had gained an irresistable momentum. the maximalists had warned against the coalition, against the attack of the th of july, they predicted the korniloff affair--the masses of the people became convinced by experience that we were right. during the most terrifying moments of the korniloff conspiracy, when the caucasian division was approaching petrograd, the petrograd soviet was arming the workingmen with the extorted consent of the authorities. army divisions which had been brought up against us had long since achieved their successful rebirth in the stimulating atmosphere of petrograd and were now altogether on our side. the korniloff uprising was destined to open definitely the eyes of the army to the inadmissibility of any continued policy of conciliation with the bourgeois counter-revolution. hence it was possible to expect that the crushing of the korniloff uprising would prove to be only an introduction to an immediate aggressive action on the part of the revolutionary forces under the leadership of our party for the purpose of seizing sole power. but events unfolded more slowly. with all the tension of their revolutionary feeling, the masses had become more cautious after the bitter lesson of the july days, and renounced all isolated demonstrations, awaiting a direct instruction and direction from above. and, also, among the leadership of our party there developed a "watchful-waiting" policy. under these circumstances, the liquidation of the korniloff adventure, irrespective of the profound regrouping of forces to our advantage, did not bring about any immediate political changes. the conflict with the soviets in the petrograd soviet, the domination of our party was definitely strengthened from that time on. this was evidenced in dramatic fashion when the question of the personnel of its presiding body came up. at that epoch, when the social-revolutionists and the minimalists were holding sway in the soviets, they isolated the maximalists by every means in their power. they did not admit even one maximalist into the membership of the executive committee at petrograd, even when our party represented at least one-third of all the soviet members. afterwards, when the petrograd soviet, by a dwindling majority, passed the resolution for the transfering of all power into the hands of the soviet, our party put forth the demand to establish a coalition executive committee formed on a proportional basis. the old presiding body, the members of which were cheidze, tseretelli, kerensky, skobeloff, chernoff, flatly refused this demand. it may not be out of place to mention this here, inasmuch as representatives of the parties broken up by the revolution speak of the necessity of presenting one front for the sake of democracy, and accuse us of separatism. there was called at that time a special meeting of the petrograd soviet, which was to decide the question of the presiding body's fate. all forces, all reserves had been mobilized on both sides. tseretelli came out with a speech embodying a programme, wherein he pointed out that the question of the presiding body was a question of orientation. we reckoned that we would sway somewhat less than half of the vote and were ready to consider that a sign of our progress. actually, however, the vote showed that we had a majority of nearly one hundred. "for six months," said tseretelli at that time, "we have stood at the head of the petrograd soviet and led it from victory to victory; we wish that you may hold for at least half of that time the positions which you are now preparing to occupy." in the moscow soviet a similar change of leadership among the parties took place. one after the other the provincial soviets joined the bolshevik position. the date of convoking the second all-russian congress of soviets was approaching. but the leading group of the central executive committee was striving with all its might to put off the congress to an indefinite future time, in order thus to destroy it in advance. it was evident that the new congress of soviets would give our party a majority, would correspondingly alter the make-up of the central executive committee, and deprive the fusionists of their most important position. the struggle for the convocation of the all-russian congress of soviets assumed the greatest importance for us. to counterbalance this, the mensheviks (minimalists) and the social-revolutionists put forth the democratic conference idea. they needed this move against both us and kerensky. by this time the head of the ministry assumed an absolutely independent and irresponsible position. he had been raised to power by the petrograd soviet during the first epoch of the revolution: kerensky had entered the ministry without a preliminary decision of the soviets, but his admission was subsequently approved. after the first congress of soviets, the socialist ministers were held accountable to the central executive committee. their allies, the cadets (constitutional democrats) were responsible only to their party. to meet the bourgeoisie's wishes, the general executive committee, after the july days, released the socialist ministers from all responsibility to the soviets, in order, as it were, to create a revolutionary dictatorship. it is rather well to mention this, too, now that the same persons who built up the dictatorship of a coterie, come forth with accusations and imprecations against the dictatorship of a class. the moscow conference, at which the skilfully manipulated professional and democratic elements balanced each other, aimed to strengthen kerensky's power over classes and parties. this aim was attained only in appearance. in reality, the moscow conference revealed kerensky's utter impotence, for he was equally remote from both the professional elements and the bourgeois democracy. but since the liberals and conservatives applauded his onslaughts against democracy, and the fusionists gave him ovations when he cautiously upbraided the counter-revolutionaries, the impression was growing upon him that he was supported, as it were, by both the former and the latter, and, accordingly, commanded unlimited power. over workingmen and revolutionary soldiers he held the threat of blood and iron. his policy continued the bargaining with korniloff behind the scenes--a bargaining which compromised him even in the fusionists' eyes: in evasively diplomatic terms, so characteristic of him, tseretelli spoke of "personal" movements in politics and of the necessity of curbing these personal movements. this task was to be accomplished by the democratic conference, which was called, according to arbitrary forms, from among representatives of soviets, dumas, zemstvos, professional trade unions and co-operative societies. still, the main task was to secure a sufficiently conservative composition of the conference, to dissolve the soviets once for all in the formless mass of democracy, and, on the new organizational basis, to gain a firm footing against the bolshevik tide. here it will not be out of place to note, in a few words, the difference between the political role of the soviets and that of the democratic organs of self-government. more than once, the philistines called our attention to the fact that the new dumas and zemstvos elected on the basis of universal suffrage, were incomparably more democratic than the soviets and were more suited to represent the population. however, this formal democratic criterion is devoid of serious content in a revolutionary epoch. the significance of the revolution lies in the rapid changing of the judgment of the masses, in the fact that new and ever new strata of population acquire experience, verify their views of the day before, sweep them aside, work out new ones, desert old leaders and follow new ones in the forward march. during revolutionary times, formally democratic organizations, based upon the ponderous apparatus of universal suffrage, inevitably fall behind the development of the political consciousness of the masses. quite different are the soviets. they rely immediately upon organic groupings, such as shop, mill, factory, volost, regiment, etc. to be sure, there are guarantees, just as legal, of the strictness of elections, as are used in creating democratic dumas and zemstvos. but there are in the soviet incomparably more serious, more profound guarantees of the direct and immediate relation between the deputy and the electors. a town-duma or zemstvo member is supported by the amorphous mass of electors, which entrusts its full powers to him for a year and then breaks up. the soviet electors remain always united by the conditions of their work and their existence; the deputy is ever before their eyes, at any moment they can prepare a mandate to him, censure him, recall or replace him with another person. if during the revolutionary month preceding the general political evolution expressed itself in the fact that the influence of the fusionist parties was being replaced by a decisive influence of the bolsheviki, it is quite plain that this process found its most striking and fullest expression in the soviets, while the dumas and zemstvos, notwithstanding all their formal democratism, expressed yesterday's status of the popular masses and not to-day's. this is exactly what explains the gravitation toward dumas and zemstvos on the part of those parties which were losing more and more ground in the esteem of the revolutionary class. we shall meet with the same question, only on a larger scale, later, when we come to the constituent assembly. the democratic conference the democratic conference, called by tseretelli and his fellow-combatants in mid-september, was totally artificial in character, representing as it did a combination of soviets and organs of self-government in a ratio calculated to secure a preponderance of the fusionist parties. born of helplessness and confusion, the conference ended in a pitiful fiasco. the professional bourgeoisie treated the conference with the greatest hostility, beholding in it an endeavor to push the bourgeoisie away from the positions it had approached at the moscow conference. the revolutionary proletariat, and the masses of soldiers and peasants connected with it, condemned in advance the fraudulent method of calling together the democratic conference. the immediate task of the fusionists was to create a responsible ministry. but even this was not achieved. kerensky neither wanted nor permitted responsibility, because this was not permitted by the bourgeoisie, which was backing him. irresponsibility towards the organs of the so-called democracy meant, in fact, responsibility to the cadets and the allied embassies. for the time being this was sufficient for the bourgeoisie. on the question of coalition the democratic conference revealed its utter insolvency: the votes in favor of a coalition with the bourgeoisie slightly outnumbered those against the coalition; the majority voted against a coalition with the cadets. but with the cadets left out, there proved to be, among the bourgeoisie, no serious counter-agencies for the coalition. tseretelli explained this in detail to the conference. if the conference did not grasp it, so much the worse for the conference. behind the backs of the conference, negotiations were carried on without concealment with the cadets, whom they had repudiated, and it was decided that the cadets should not appear as cadets, but as "social workers." pressed hard on both right and left, the bourgeois democracy tolerated all this dickering, and thereby demonstrated its utter political prostration. from the democratic conference a soviet was picked, and it was decided to complete it by adding representatives of the professional elements; this pre-parliament was to fill the vacant period before the convocation of the constituent assembly contrary to tseretelli's original plan, but in full accord with the plans of the bourgeoisie, the new coalition ministry retained its formal independence with regard to the pre-parliament. everything together produced the impression of a pitiful and impotent creation of an office clerk behind which was concealed the complete capitulation of the petty bourgeois democracy before the professional liberalism which, a month previously, had openly supported korniloff's attack on the revolution. the sum total of the whole affair was, therefore, the restoration and perpetuation of the coalition with the liberal bourgeoisie. no longer could there be any doubt that quite independently of the make-up of the future constituent assembly, the governmental power would, in fact, be held by the bourgeoisie, as despite all the preponderance given them by the masses of the people the fusionist parties invariably arrived at a coalition with the cadets, deeming it impossible, as they did, to create a state power without the bourgeoisie. the attitude of the masses toward milyukov's party was one of the deepest hostility. at all elections during the revolutionary period, the cadets suffered merciless defeat, and yet, the very parties--i.e., the social-revolutionists and mensheviks--which victoriously defeated the cadet party at the elections, after election gave it the place of honor in the coalition government. it is natural that the masses realized more and more that in reality the fusionist parties were playing the role of stewards to the liberal bourgeoisie. meantime, the internal situation was becoming more and more complicated and unfavorable. the war dragged on aimlessly, senselessly and interminably. the government took no steps whatever to extricate itself from the vicious circle. the laughable scheme was proposed of sending the menshevik skobeloff to paris to influence the allied imperialists. but no sane man attached any importance to this scheme. korniloff gave up riga to the germans in order to terrorize public opinion, and having brought about this condition, to establish the discipline of the knout in the army. danger threatened petrograd. and the bourgeois elements greeted this peril with unconcealed malicious joy. the former president of the duma, rodzyanko, openly said again and again that the surrender of debauched petrograd to the germans would not be a great misfortune. for illustration he cited riga, where the deputy soviets had been done away with after the coming of the germans, and firm order, together with the old police system, had been established. would the baltic fleet be lost? but the fleet had been debauched by the revolutionary propaganda; ergo the loss was not so great. the cynicism of a garrulous nobleman expressed the hidden thoughts of the greater part of the bourgeoisie, that to surrender petrograd to the germans did not mean to lose it. under the peace treaty it would be restored, but restored ravaged by german militarism. by that time the revolution would be decapitated, and it would be easier to manage. kerensky's government did not think of seriously defending the capital. on the contrary, public opinion was being prepared for its possible surrender. public institutions were being removed from petrograd to moscow and other cities. in this setting, the soldiers' section of the petrograd soviet had its meeting. feeling was tense and turbulent, was the government incapable of defending petrograd? if so, let it make peace. and if incapable of making peace, let it clear out. the frame of mind of the soldiers' section found expression in this resolution. this was already the heat-lightning of the october revolution. at the front, the situation grew worse day by day. chilly autumn, with its rains and winds, was drawing nigh. and there was looming up a fourth winter campaign. supplies deteriorated every day. in the rear, the front had been forgotten--no reliefs, no new contingents, no warm winter clothing, which was indispensable. desertions grew in number. the old army committees, elected in the first period of the revolution, remained at their places and supported kerensky's policy. re-elections were forbidden. an abyss sprang up between the committees and the soldier masses. finally the soldiers began to regard the committees with hatred. with increasing frequency delegates from the trenches were arriving in petrograd and at the sessions of the petrograd soviet put the question point blank: "what is to be done further? by whom and how will the war be ended? why is the petrograd soviet silent?" inevitability of the struggle for power the petrograd soviet was not silent. it demanded the immediate transfer of all power into the hands of the soviets in the capitals and in the provinces, the immediate transfer of the land to the peasants, the workingmen's control of production, and immediate opening of peace negotiations. so long as we remained an opposition party, the motto--all power to the soviets--was a propaganda motto. but as soon as we found ourselves in the majority in all the principal soviets, this motto imposed upon us the duty of a direct and immediate fight for power. in the country villages, the situation had grown entangled and complicated in the extreme. the revolution had promised land to the peasant, but at the same time, the leading parties demanded that the peasant should not touch this land until the constituent assembly should meet. at first the peasants waited patiently, but when they began to lose patience, the coalition ministry showered repressive measures upon them. meanwhile the constituent assembly was receding to ever remoter distances. the bourgeoisie insisted upon calling the constituent assembly after the conclusion of peace. the peasant masses were growing more and more impatient. what we had foretold at the very beginning of the revolution, was being realized: the peasants were seizing the land of their own accord. repressive measures grew, arrests of revolutionary land committees began. in certain uyezds (districts) kerensky introduced martial law. a line of delegates, who came on foot, flowed from the villages to the petrograd soviet. they complained that they had been arrested when they attempted to carry out the petrograd soviet's programme and to transfer the estate holder's land into the hands of the peasant committees. the peasants demanded protection of us. we replied that we should be in a position to protect them only if the power were in our hands. from this, however, it followed that the soviets must seize the power if they did not wish to become mere debating societies. "it is senseless to fight for the power of the soviets six or eight weeks before the constituent assembly," our neighbors on the right told us. we, however, were in no degree infected with this fetish worship of the constituent assembly. in the first place, there were no guarantees that it really would be called. the breaking up of the army, mass desertions, disorganization of the supplies department, agrarian revolution--all this created an environment which was unfavorable to the elections for the constituent assembly. the surrender of petrograd to the germans, furthermore, threatened to remove altogether the question of elections from the order of the day. and, besides, even if it were called according to the old registration lists under the leadership of the old parties, the constituent assembly would be but a cover and a sanction for the coalition power. without the bourgeoisie neither the s. r.'s nor the mensheviks were in a position to assume power. only the revolutionary class was destined to break the vicious circle wherein the revolution was revolving and going to pieces. the power had to be snatched from the hands of the elements which were directly or indirectly serving the bourgeoisie and making use of the state apparatus as a tool of obstruction against the revolutionary demands of the people. all power to the soviets! demanded our party. translated into party language, this had meant, in the preceding period, the power of the s. r.'s and mensheviks, as opposed to a coalition with the liberal bourgeoisie. now, in october , the same motto meant handing over all power to the revolutionary proletariat, at the head of which, at this period, stood the bolshevik party. it was a question of the dictatorship of the working class, which was leading, or, more correctly, was capable of leading the many millions of the poorest peasantry. this was the historical significance of the october uprising. everything led the party to this path. since the first days of the revolution, we had been preaching the necessity and inevitability of the power passing to the soviets. after a great internal struggle, the majority of the soviets made this demand their own, having accepted our point of view. we were preparing the second all-russian congress of soviets at which we: expected our party's complete victory. under dan's leadership (the cautious cheidze had departed for the caucasus), the central executive committee attempted to block in every way the calling of the congress of the soviets. after great exertions, supported by the soviet fraction of the democratic assembly, we finally secured the setting of the date of the congress for october th. this date was destined to become the greatest day in the history of russia. as a preliminary, we called in petrograd a congress of soviets of the northern regions, including the baltic fleet and moscow. at this congress, we had a solid majority, and obtained a certain support on the right in the persons of the left s. r. faction, besides laying important organizational premises for the october uprising. the conflict regarding the petrograd garrison but even earlier, previous to the congress of northern soviets, there occurred an event which was destined to play a most important role in the subsequent political struggle. early in october there came to a meeting of the petrograd executive committee, the soviet's representative in the staff of the petrograd military district and announced that headquarters demanded that two-thirds of the petrograd garrison should be sent to the front. for what purpose? to defend petrograd. they were not to be sent to the front at once, but still it was necessary to make ready immediately. the staff recommended that the petrograd soviet approve this plan. we were on our guard. at the end of august, also, five revolutionary regiments, complete or in parts, had been taken out of petrograd. this had been done at the request of the then supreme commander korniloff, who at that very time was preparing to hurl a caucasian division against petrograd, with the intention of once for all settling with the revolutionary capital. thus we had already the experience of purely political transfer of regiments under the pretext of military operations. anticipating events. i shall say, that from documents brought to light after the october revolution it became clear beyond any doubt that the proposed removal of the petrograd garrison actually had nothing to do with military purposes, but was forced upon commander-in-chief dukhonin, against his will, by none else but kerensky, who was striving to clear the capital of the most revolutionary soldiers, i.e., those most hostile to him. but at that time, early in october, our suspicions evoked at first a storm of patriotic indignation. the staff people were pressing us, kerensky was impatient, for the ground under his feet had grown too hot. we, on the other hand, delayed answering. danger undoubtedly threatened petrograd and the question of defending the capital loomed before us in all its terrible significance. but after the korniloff experience, after rodzyanko's words concerning the desirability of the german occupation, whence should we take the assurance that petrograd would not be maliciously given up to the germans in punishment for its seditious spirit? the executive committee refused to affix its seal blindly to the order to transfer two-thirds of the garrison. it was necessary to verify, we said, whether there really were military considerations back of this order, and therefore it was necessary to create an organization for this verification. thus was born the idea of creating--by the side of the soldiers' section of the soviet, i. e., the garrison's political representation--a purely military organization, in the form of a military revolutionary committee, which subsequently acquired enormous power and became the real tool of the october revolution. undoubtedly, even in those hours, when putting forth the idea of creating an organization in whose hands would be concentrated the threads for guiding the petrograd garrison on the purely military side, we clearly realized that this very organization might become an irreplaceable revolutionary tool. at that time we were already openly heading for the uprising, and were preparing for it in an organized way. as indicated above, the all-russian congress of soviets was ret for october th. there could be no longer any doubt that the congress would declare itself in favor of power being handed over to the soviets. but such a resolution must forthwith be put into actuality, else it would turn into a worthless, platonic demonstration. the logic of events, therefore, required us to set the uprising for october th. exactly so the entire bourgeois press interpreted it. but in the first place, the fate of the congress depended upon the petrograd garrison: would it allow kerensky to surround the congress of soviets and disperse it with the assistance of several hundred or thousand military cadets, ensigns and thugs? did not the very attempt to remove the garrison mean that the government was preparing to disperse the congress of soviets? and strange it would be if it were not preparing, since we were, before the entire land, openly mobilizing the soviet forces in order to deal the coalition forces a death blow. thus the conflict at petrograd was developing on the basis of the question of the garrison's fate. first and foremost this question touched all the soldiers to the quick. but the working-men, too, felt the liveliest interest in the conflict, fearing as they did that upon the garrison's removal they would be smothered by the cadets and cossacks. thus the conflict was assuming a character of the very keenest nature and developing on a soil extremely unfavorable for kerensky's government. parallel with this was going on the above-described struggle for convoking the all-russian congress of soviets--we, openly declaring, in the name of the petrograd soviet and the northern region congress, that the second congress of soviets must set kerensky's government aside and become the true master of the russian land. as a matter of fact the uprising was already on. it was developing quite openly before the eyes of the whole country. during october the question of the uprising played an important role in our party's inner life. lenin, who was in hiding in finland, insisted, in numerous letters, upon more resolute tactics. the lower strata were in ferment, and dissatisfaction was accumulating because the bolshevik party, which had proved to be in the majority in the petrograd soviet, was drawing no practical conclusions from its own mottos. on october th a conspiratory meeting of the central committee of our party took place, with lenin present. the question of the uprising was on the order of the day. by a majority of all against two votes it was decided that the only means of saving the revolution and the country from final dissolution lay in armed insurrection which must transfer power into the hands of the soviets. the democratic soviet and "pre-parliament" the democratic soviet which had detached itself from the democratic conference had absorbed all the helplessness of the latter. the old soviet parties, the social-revolutionists and the mensheviks, had created an artificial majority in it for themselves, only the more strikingly to reveal their political prostration. behind the soviet curtains, tseretelli was carrying on involved parleys with kerensky and the representatives of the "professional elements" as they began to say in the soviet,--in order to avoid the "insulting" term bourgeoisie. tseretelli's report on the course and issue of the negotiations was a sort of funeral oration over a whole period of the revolution. it turned out that neither kerensky nor the professional elements had consented to responsibility toward the new semi-representative institution. on the other hand, outside the limits of the cadet party, they had not succeeded in finding so-called "efficient" social leaders. the organizers of the venture had to capitulate on both points. the capitulation was all the more eloquent, because the democratic conference had been called exactly for the purpose of doing away with the irresponsible regime, while the conference, by a formal vote, rejected a coalition with the cadets. at several meetings of the democratic soviet which took place prior to the revolution, there prevailed an atmosphere of tenseness and utter incapacity for action. the soviet did not reflect the revolution's march forward but the dissolution of the parties that had lagged behind the revolution. even previous to the democratic conference, in our party faction, i had raised the question of demonstratively withdrawing from the conference and boycotting the democratic soviet. it was necessary to show the masses by action that the fusionists had led the revolution into a blind alley. the fight for building up the soviet power could be carried on only in a revolutionary way. the power must be snatched from the hands of those who had proven incapable of doing any good and were furthermore even losing their capacity for active evil. their method of working through an artificially picked pre-parliament and a conjectural constituent assembly, had to be opposed by our political method of mobilizing the forces around the soviets, through the all-russian congress of soviets and through insurrection. this could be done only by means of an open break, before the eyes of the entire people, with the body created by tseretelli and his adherents, and by focusing on the soviet institutions, the entire attention and all the forces of the working class. this is why i proposed the demonstrative withdrawal from the conference and a revolutionary agitation, in shops and regiments, against the attempt to play false with the will of the revolution and once again turn its progress into the channel of cooperation with the bourgeoisie. lenin, whose letter we received a few days later, expressed himself to the same effect. but in the party's upper circles hesitation was still apparent on this question. the july days had left a deep impression in the party's consciousness. the mass of workingmen and soldiers had recovered from the july debacle much more rapidly than had many of the leading comrades who feared the nipping of the revolution in the bud by a new premature onslaught of the masses. in our group of the democratic conference, i mustered votes in favor of my proposal against who declared for participating in the democratic council. however, the experience of this participation soon strengthened the party's left wing. it was growing too manifest that combinations bordering on trickery, combinations that aimed at securing further leadership in the revolution for the professional elements, with the assistance of the fusionists, who had lost ground among the lower levels of the people, offered no escape from the impasse into which the laxness of bourgeois democracy had driven the revolution. by the time the democratic soviet, its ranks filled up with professional elements, became a pre-parliament, readiness to break with this institution had matured in our party. the s. r.'s and mensheviks we were confronted with the question whether the s. r.'s would follow us in this path. this group was in the process of formation, but this process, according to the standards of our party, went on too slowly and irresolutely. at the outset of the revolution, the s. r.'s proved the predominating party in the whole field of political life. peasants, soldiers, even workingmen voted en masse for the s. r.'s. the party itself had not expected anything of the kind, and more than once it looked as if it were in danger of being swamped in the waves of its own success. excluding the purely capitalistic and landholder groups and the professional elements among the intellectuals, one and all voted for the revolutionary populists' party. this was natural in the initial stage of the revolution, when class lines had not had time to reveal themselves, when the aspirations of the so-called united revolutionary front found expression in the diffuse program of a party that was ready to welcome equally the workingman who feared to break away from the peasant; the peasant who was seeking land and liberty; the intellectual attempting to guide both of them; the chinovnik (officeholder) endeavoring to adjust himself to the new regime. when kerensky, who had been counted a laborite in the period of czarism, joined the s. r.'s party after the victory of the revolution, that party's popularity began to grow in proportion as kerensky mounted the rungs of power. out of respect, not always of a platonic nature, for the war minister, many colonels and generals hastened to enrol in the party of the erstwhile terrorists. old s. r.'s, with revolutionary traditions, regarded with some uneasiness the ever increasing number of "march s. r.'s" that is, such party members as had discovered within themselves a revolutionary populist soul only in march, after the revolution had overthrown the old regime and placed the revolutionary populists in authority. thus, within the limits of its formlessness, this party contained not only the inner contradictions of the developing revolution, but also the prejudices inherent in the backwardness of the peasant masses, and the sentimentalism, instability and career-chasing of the intellectual strata. it was perfectly clear that in that form the party could not last long. with regard to ideas, it proved impotent from the very start. politically, the guiding role belonged to the mensheviks who had gone through the school of marxism and derived from it certain procedures and habits, which aided them in finding their bearings in the political situation to the extent of scientifically falsifying the meaning of the current class struggle and securing the hegemony of the liberal bourgeoisie in the highest degree possible under the given circumstances. this is why the mensheviks, direct pleaders for the bourgeoisie's right to power, exhausted themselves so rapidly and, by the time of the october revolution, were almost completely played out. the s. r.'s, too, were losing influence more and more--first among the workingmen, then in the army, and finally in the villages. but toward the time of the october upheaval, they remained still a very powerful party, numerically. however, class contradictions were undermining them from within. in opposition to the right wing which, in its most chauvinistic elements, such as avksentyef, breshko-breshkovskaya, savinkoff, etc., had finally gone over into the counter-revolutionary camp, a left wing was forming, which strove to preserve its connection with the toiling masses. if we merely recall the fact that the s. r., avksentyef, as minister of the interior, arrested the peasant land committees, composed of s. r.'s, for their arbitrary solution of the agrarian question, the amplitude of "differences" within this party will become sufficiently clear to us. in its center stood the party's traditional leader, chernoff. a writer of experience, well-read in socialist literature, an experienced hand in factional strife, he had constantly remained at the head of the party, when party life was being built up in emigrant circles abroad. the revolution which had raised the s. r. party to an enormous height with its first indiscriminating wave, automatically raised chernoff, too, only to reveal his complete impotence even as compared with the other leading political lights of the first period. the paltry resources which had secured to chernoff a preponderance in the populist circles abroad, proved too light in the scales of the revolution. he concentrated his efforts on not taking any responsible decisions, evading in all critical cases, waiting and abstaining. for some little time, tactics of this kind secured for him the position as center between the ever more diverging flanks. but there was no longer any possibility of preserving party unity for long. the former terrorist, savinkof, took part in korniloff's conspiracy, was in touching unanimity with the counter-revolutionary circles of cossack officers and was preparing an onslaught on petrograd workingmen and soldiers, among whom there were quite a few left s. r.'s. as a sacrifice to the left wing, the center expelled savinkof from the party, but hesitated to raise a hand against kerensky. in the pre-parliament, the party showed signs of extreme disruption: three groups existed independently, though under the banner of one and the same party, but none of the groups knew exactly what it wanted. the formal domination of this "party" in the constituent assembly would have meant only a continuation of political prostration. withdrawing from the pre-parliament. the voice of the front before withdrawing from the membership in the pre-parliament where, according to kerensky's and tseretelli's political statistics, we were entitled to some half a hundred seats, we arranged a conference with the left s. r. group. they refused to follow us, claiming that they still had to demonstrate practically before the peasantry the insolvency of the pre-parliament. said one of the leaders of the left s. r.'s: "we deem it necessary to warn you that if you want to withdraw from the pre-parliament in order forthwith to go into the streets for an open fight, we shall not follow you." the bourgeois-fusionist press accused us of striving to kill prematurely the pre-parliament, for the very purpose of creating a revolutionary situation. at our faction meeting in the pre-parliament, it was decided to act independently and not wait for the left s. r.'s. our party's declaration, proclaimed from the pre-parliament rostrum and explaining why we were breaking with this institution, was greeted with a howl of hatred and impotence on the part of the majority groups. in the petrograd soviet of deputies, where our withdrawal from the pre-parliament was approved by an overwhelming majority, the leader of the tiny "internationalist" menshevik group, martof, explained to us that the withdrawal from the temporary soviet of the republic (such was the official appellation of this little-respected institution) would be sensible only in case we proposed immediately to assume an open offensive. but the point is that this is just what we intended. the prosecutors for the liberal bourgeoisie were right, when accusing us of striving to create a revolutionary situation. in open insurrection and direct seizure of power we beheld the only way out of the situation. again, as in the july days, the press and all the other organs of so-called public opinion were mobilized against us. from the july arsenals were dragged forth the most envenomed weapons which had been temporarily stored away there after the korniloff days. vain efforts! the mass was irresistibly moving toward us, and its spirit was rising hour by hour. from the trenches delegates kept arriving. "how long," said they, at the petrograd soviet meetings, "will this impossible situation last? the soldiers have told us to declare to you: if no decisive steps for peace are made by november st, the trenches will be deserted, the entire army will rush to the rear!" this determination was really spreading at the front. there the soldiers were passing on, from one unit to another, home-made proclamations, summoning them not to remain in the trenches later than the first snowfall. "you have forgotten about us," the delegates on foot from the trenches exclaimed at the soviet meetings. "if you find no way out of the situation, we shall come here ourselves, and with our bayonets we shall disperse our enemies, including you." in the course of a few weeks the petrograd council had become the center of attraction for the whole army. after its leading tendency had been changed and new presiding officers elected, its resolutions inspired the exhausted and despondent troops at the front with the hope that the way out of the situation could be practically found in the manner proposed by the bolsheviks: by publishing the secret treaties and proposing an immediate truce on all fronts. "you say that power must pass into the hands of the soviets, grasp it then. yon fear that the front will not support you. cast all misgivings aside, the soldier masses are with you in overwhelming majority." meanwhile the conflict regarding the transfer of the garrison kept on developing. almost daily, a garrison conference met, consisting of committees from the companies, regiments and commands. the influence of our party in the garrison was established definitely and indestructibly. the petrograd district staff was in a state of extreme perplexity. now it would attempt to enter into regular relations with us, then again, egged on by the leaders of the central executive committee, it would threaten us with repressive measures. above, mention has already been made of organizing, at the petrograd soviet, a military revolutionary committee, which was intended to be, in fact, the soviet staff of the petrograd garrison in opposition to kerensky's staff. "but the existence of two staffs is inadmissible," the representatives of the fusionist parties dogmatically admonished us. "but is a situation admissible, wherein the garrison mistrusts the official staff and fears that the transfer of soldiers from petrograd has been dictated by a new counter-revolutionary machination?" we retorted. "the creation of a second staff means insurrection," came the reply from the right. "your military revolutionary committee's task will not be so much to verify the operative projects and orders of the military authorities as the preparation and execution of an insurrection against the present government." this objection was just: but for that very reason it did not frighten anybody. an overwhelming majority of the soviet was aware of the necessity of overthrowing the coalition power. the more circumstantially the mensheviks and s. r.'s demonstrated that the military revolutionary committee would inevitably turn into an organ of insurrection, the greater the eagerness with which the petrograd soviet supported the new fighting organization. the military revolutionary committee's first act was to appoint commissioners to all parts of the petrograd garrison and all the most important institutions of the capital and environs. from various quarters we were receiving communications that the government, or more correctly, the government parties, were actively organizing and arming their forces. from various arms-depots-governmental and private-rifles, revolvers, machine guns and cartridges were being brought forth for arming cadets, students and bourgeois youths in general. it was necessary to take immediate preventive measures. commissioners were appointed to all arms-depots and stores. almost without opposition they became masters of the situation. to be sure, the commandants and proprietors of the depots tried not to recognize them, but a mere application to the soldiers' committee or the employees of each institution sufficed to cause the immediate breakdown of the opposition. after that, arms were issued only on order of our commissioners. even prior to that, regiments of the petrograd garrison had their commissioners, but these had been appointed by the central executive committee. above, we said that after the june congress of soviets, and particularly after the june th demonstration which revealed the ever growing power of the bolsheviks, the fusionist parties had almost entirely deprived the petrograd soviet of any practical influence on the course of events in the revolutionary capital. the leadership of the petrograd garrison was concentrated in the hands of the central executive committee. now the task everywhere was to put in the petrograd soviet's commissioners. this was achieved with the most energetic cooperation of the soldier masses. meetings, addressed by speakers of various parties, had the result, invariably, that regiment after regiment declared it would recognize only the petrograd soviet's commissioners and would not budge a step without its decision. an important role in appointing these commissioners was played by the bolsheviks' military organization. before the july days it had developed a widespread agitational activity. on july th, a battalion of cyclists, brought by kerensky to petrograd, battered down the isolated kshessinsky mansion where our party's military organization was quartered. the majority of leaders, and many privates among the members were arrested, the publications were stopped, the printing shop was wrecked. only by degrees did the organization begin to repair its machinery afresh, conspiratively this time. numerically it comprised in its ranks but a very insignificant part of the petrograd garrison, a few hundred men all told. but there were among them many soldiers and young officers, chiefly ensigns, resolute, and with heart and soul devoted to the revolution, who had passed through kerensky's prisons in july and august. all of them had placed themselves at the military revolutionary committee's disposal and were being assigned to the most responsible fighting posts. however, it would not be superfluous to remark that precisely the members of our party's military organization assumed in october an attitude of extraordinary caution and even some skepticism toward the idea of an immediate insurrection. the closed character of the organization and its officially military character involuntarily inclined its leaders to underestimate the purely technical and organizational resources of the uprising, and from this point of view we were undoubtedly weak. our strength lay in the revolutionary enthusiasm of the masses and their readiness to fight under our banner. parallel with the organizing activity a stormy agitation was being carried on. this was the period of incessant meetings at works, in the "modern" and "chinizelli" circuses, at clubs, in barracks. the atmosphere at all the meetings was charged with electricity. each mention of the insurrection was greeted with a storm of plaudits and shouts of delight. the bourgeois press merely increased the state of universal panic. an order issued over my signature to the syestroyetsk munitions factory to issue five thousand rifles to the red guard evoked an indescribable panic in bourgeois circles. "the general massacre" in course of preparation was talked and written about everywhere. of course, this did not in the least prevent the workingmen of the syestroyetsk munitions factory from handing the arms over to the red guards. the more frantically the bourgeois press slandered and baited us, the more ardently the masses responded to our call. it was growing clearer and clearer for both sides that the crisis must break within the next few days. the press of the s. r.'s and mensheviks was sounding an alarm. "the revolution is in the greatest danger. a repetition of the july days is being prepared--but on a much wider basis and therefore still more destructive in its consequences." in his novaya zhizn, gorki daily prophesied the approaching wreck of all civilization. in general, the socialistic veneer of the bourgeois intellectuals was wearing off at the approach of the stern domination of the workers' dictatorship. but, on the other hand, the soldiers of even the most backward regiments hailed with delight the military revolutionary committee's commissioners. delegates came to us from cossack units and from the socialist minority of military cadets. they promised at least to assure the neutrality of their units in case of open conflict. manifestly kerensky's government was losing its foundations. the district staff began negotiations with us and proposed a compromise. in order to size up the enemy's full resistance, we entered into pourparlers. but the staff was nervous; now they exhorted, then threatened us, they even declared our commissioners to be without power, which, however, did not in the least affect their work. in accord with the staff, the central executive committee appointed captain of staff malefski to be chief commissioner for the petrograd military district and magnanimously consented to recognize our commissioners, on condition of their being subordinate to the chief commissioner. the proposal was rejected and the negotiations broken off. prominent mensheviks and s. r.'s came to us as intermediaries, exhorted, threatened and foretold our doom and the doom of the revolution. the "petrograd soviet day" at this period the smolny building was already completely in the hands of the petrograd soviet and of our party. the mensheviks and the s. r.'s transferred their political activity to the maryiinsky palace, where the infant pre-parliament was already expiring. in the pre-parliament kerensky delivered a great speech, in which, stormily applauded by the bourgeois wing, he endeavored to conceal his impotence behind clamorous threats. the staff made its last attempt at opposition. to all units of the garrison it sent out invitations to appoint two delegates to conferences concerning the removal of troops from the capital. the first conference was called for october nd, at p. m. from the regiments we immediately received information about it. by telephone we issued a call for a garrison conference at a. m. withal, a part of the delegates did get to the staff quarters, only to declare that without the petrograd soviet's decision they would not move anywhere. almost unanimously the garrison conference confirmed its allegiance to the military revolutionary committee. objections came only from official representatives of the former soviet parties, but they found no response whatever among the regimental delegates. the staff's attempt brought out only more strikingly that we were standing on firm ground. in the front rank there was the volhynian regiment, the very one which on july th, with its band playing, had invaded the tauri'da palace, in order to put down the bolsheviks. as already mentioned earlier, the central executive committee had charge of the petrograd soviet's treasury and its publications. an attempt to obtain even a single one of these publications brought no results. beginning with the end of september, we initiated a series of measures toward creating an independent newspaper of the petrograd soviet. but all printing establishments were occupied and their owners boycotted us with the assistance of the central executive committee. it was decided to arrange for a "petrograd soviet day," for the purpose of developing a widespread agitation and collecting pecuniary resources for establishing a newspaper. about a fortnight before, this day was set for october nd, and consequently it coincided with the moment of the open outburst of the insurrection. with complete assurance, the hostile press announced that on october nd an armed insurrection of the bolsheviks would occur in the streets of petrograd. that the insurrection would occur, nobody had any doubt. they only tried to determine exactly when; they guessed, they prophesied, striving in this way to force a denial or confession on our part. but the soviet calmly and confidently marched forward, making no answer to the howl of bourgeois public opinion. october nd became the reviewing day for the forces of the proletarian army. it went off magnificently in every respect. in spite of the warnings coming from the right that blood would flow in torrents in the streets of petrograd, the masses of the populace were pouring in floods to the petrograd soviet meetings. all our oratorical forces were mobilized. all public places were filled. meetings were held unceasingly for hours at a stretch. they were addressed by speakers of our party, by delegates arriving for the soviet congress, by representatives from the front, by left s.r.'s and by anarchists. public buildings were flooded by waves of working-men, soldiers and sailors. there had not been many gatherings like that even in the time of the revolution. up rose a considerable mass of the petty townfolk, less frightened than aroused by the shouts, warnings and baiting of the bourgeois press. waves of people by tens of thousands dashed against the people's house building, rolled through the corridors, filled the halls. on the iron columns huge garlands of human heads, feet and hands were hanging like bunches of grapes. the air was surcharged with the electric tension that heralds the most critical moments of revolution. "down with kerensky's government! down with the war! all power to the soviets!" not one from the ranks of the previous soviet parties ventured to appear before those colossal throngs with a word of reply. the petrograd soviet held undivided sway. in reality the campaign had already been won. it only remained to deal the last military blow to this spectral authority. the most cautious in our midst were reporting that there still remained units that were not with us: the cossacks, the cavalry regiment, the semyonofski regiment, the cyclists. commissioners and agitators were assigned to these units. their reports sounded perfectly satisfactory: the red-hot atmosphere was infecting one and all, and the most conservative elements of the army were losing the strength to withstand the general tendency of the petrograd garrison. in the semyonofski regiment, which was considered the bulwark of kerensky's government, i was present at a meeting which took place in the open air. the most prominent speakers of the right wing addressed it. they clung to the conservative guard regiments as to the last support of the coalition power. nothing would avail. by an overwhelming majority of votes, the regiment expressed itself for us and did not even give the ex-ministers a chance to finish their speeches. the groups which still opposed the soviet watch-words were made up mainly of officers, volunteers and generally of bourgeois intellectuals and semi-intellectuals. the masses of peasants and workmen were with us one and all. the demarcation ran as a distinct social line. the fortress of peter and paul is the central military base of petrograd. as commandant thereof we appointed a young ensign. he proved the best man for the post and within a few hours he became master of the situation. the lawful authorities withdrew, biding their time. the element regarded as unreliable for us were the cyclists, who in july had smashed our party's military organization in the kshessinsky mansion and taken possession of the mansion itself. on the rd, i went to the fortress about p. m. within the courtyard a meeting was being held. the speakers of the right wing were cautious and evasive in the extreme, painstakingly avoiding the question of kerensky, whose name inevitably aroused shouts of protest and indignation even among the soldiers. we were listened to, and our advice vas followed. about four o'clock, the cyclists assembled nearby, in the "modern" circus, for a battalion meeting. among the speakers appearing there was quartermaster-general paradyelof. he spoke with extreme caution. the days had been left far behind, when official and semi-official speakers referred to the party of the workers merely as to a gang of traitors and hired agents of the german kaiser. the lieutenant-commander of the staff accosted me with: "we really ought to be able to come to some agreement." but it was already too late. the whole battalion, with only thirty dissenting votes, had voted for handing over all power to the soviets. the beginning of the revolution the government of kerensky was restlessly looking for refuge, now one way, now another. two new cyclist battalions, and the zenith battery were called back from the front, and an attempt was made to call back some companies of cavalry.... the cyclists telegraphed while on the road to the petrograd soviet: "we are led to petrograd without knowing the reasons. request explanations." we ordered them to stop and send a delegation to petrograd. their representatives arrived and declared at a meeting of the soviet that the battalion was entirely with us. this was greeted by enthusiastic cheers. the battalion received orders to enter the city immediately. the number of delegates from the front was increasing every day. they came to get information about the situation. they gathered our literature and went to bring the message to the front that the petrograd soviet was conducting a struggle for the power of the workers, soldiers and peasants. "the men in the trenches will support you," they told us. all the old army committees which had not been reelected for the last four or five months, sent threatening telegrams to us, which, however, made no impression. we knew that these committees were no less out of touch with the rank and file of the soldiers than the central executive committee with the local soviets. the military revolutionary committee appointed commissaries to all railroad depots. these commissaries kept a watchful eye upon all the arriving and departing trains and especially upon the movements of troops. continuous telephone and motor car communication was established with the neighboring cities and their garrisons. the soviets of all the communities near petrograd were charged with the duty of vigilantly preventing any counter-revolutionary troops, or, rather, troops misled by the government, from entering the capital. the railroad officials of lower rank and the workmen recognized our commissaries immediately. difficulties arose on the th at the telephone station. they stopped connecting us. the cadets took possession of the station and under their protection the telephone operators began to oppose the soviet. this was the first appearance of the future sabotage. the military revolutionary committee sent a detachment to the telephone station and placed two small cannons there. in this way the seizing of all departments of the government and instruments of administration was started. the sailors and red guards occupied the telegraph station, the post office and other institutions. measures were taken to take possession of the state bank. the center of the government, the institute of smolny, was turned into a fortress. there were in the garret, as a heritage of the old central executive committee, a score of machine guns, but they were in poor condition and had been entirely neglected by the caretakers. we ordered an additional machine gun company to the smolny institute. early in the morning the sailors rolled the machine gun with a deafening rumble over the cement floors of the long and half-dark corridors of the building. out of the doors the frightened faces of the few s. r.'s and mensheviks were looking and wondering. the soviet held daily meetings in the smolny and so did the garrison council. on the third floor of the smolny, in a small corner room, the military revolutionary committee was in continuous session. there was centered all the information about the movements of the troops, the spirit of the soldiers and workers, the agitation in the barracks, the undertakings of the pogrom instigators, the councils of the bourgeois politicians, the life at the winter palace, the plans of the former soviet parties. informers came from all sides. there came workers, officers, porters, socialist cadets, servants, ladies. many brought pure nonsense. others gave serious and valuable information. the decisive moment drew near. it was apparent that there was no going back. on the evening of the th of october, kerensky appeared in the preliminary parliament and demanded approval of repressive measures against the bolsheviki. the preliminary parliament, however, was in a sad state of indetermination and complete disintegration. the constitutional democrats tried to persuade the right s. r.'s to adopt a vote of confidence. the right s. r.'s exercised pressure upon the center. the center hesitated. the "left" wing conducted a policy of parliamentary opposition. after many conferences, debates, hesitations, the resolution of the "left" wing was adopted. this resolution condemned the rebellious movement of the soviet, but the responsibilities for the movement were laid at the door of the anti-democratic policy of the government. the mail brought scores of letters daily informing us of death sentences pronounced against us, of infernal machines, of the expected blowing up of the smolny, etc. the bourgeois press howled wildly, moved by hatred and terror. gorki, who had forgotten all about "the song of the falcon," continued to prophesy in his novaya zhizn the approach of the end of the world. the members of the military revolutionary committee did not leave the smolny during the entire week. they slept on sofas and only at odd intervals, wakened by couriers, scouts, cyclists, telegraph messengers and telephone calls. the night of the th- th was the most restless. we received a telephone communication from pavlovsky that the government had called artillery from the peterhof school of ensigns. at the winter palace, kerensky gathered the cadets and officers. we gave out orders over the telephone to place on all the roads leading to petrograd reliable military defence and to send agitators to meet the military detachment called by the government. in case persuasion would not help they were instructed to use armed force. all the negotiations were held over the telephone in the open, and therefore were accessible to the agents of the government. the commissaries informed us over the telephone that on all the roads leading to petrograd our friends were on the alert. a cadet detachment from oranienbaum nevertheless succeeded in getting by our military defence during the night and over the telephone we followed their further movements. the outer guard of the smolny was strengthened by another company. communications with all the detachments of the garrison went on continuously. the companies on guard in all the regiments were awake. the delegates of every detachment were day and night at the disposal of the military revolutionary committee. an order was given to suppress the agitation of the black hundred without reserve, and at the first attempts at pogroms on the streets, arms should be used without mercy. during this decisive night all the most important points of the city passed into our hands--almost without any opposition, without struggle and without bloodshed. the state bank was guarded by a government detachment and an armored car. the building was surrounded on all sides by our troops. the armored car was taken by an unexpected attack and the bank went over into the hands of the military revolutionary committee without a single shot being fired. there was on the river neva, behind the franco-russian plant, the cruiser aurora, which was under repair. its crew consisted entirely of sailors devotedly loyal to the revolution. when korniloff, at the end of august, threatened petrograd the sailors of the aurora were called by the government to guard the winter palace, and though even then they already hated the government of kerensky, they realized that it was their duty to dam the wave of the counter-revolution, and they took their post without objection. when the danger passed they were sent back. now, in the days of the october uprising, they were too dangerous. the aurora was ordered by the minister of the navy to weigh anchor and to get out of petrograd. the crew informed us immediately of this order. we annulled it and the cruiser remained where it was, ready at any moment to put all its military forces and means at the disposal of the soviets. the decisive day at the dawn of the th, a man and woman, employed in the party's printing office, came to smolny and informed us that the government had closed the official journal of our body and the "new gazette" of the petrograd soviet. the printing office was sealed by some agent of the government. the military revolutionary committee immediately recalled the orders and took both publications under its protection, enjoining upon the "gallant wolinsky regiment the great honor of securing the free socialist press against counter-revolutionary attempts." the printing, after that, went on without interruption and both publications appeared on time. the government was still in session at the winter palace, but it was no more than its own shadow. as a political power it no longer existed. on the th of october the winter palace was gradually surrounded by our troops from all sides. at one o'clock in the afternoon i declared at the session of the petrograd soviet, in the name of the military revolutionary committee, that the government of kerensky had ceased to exist and that forthwith, and until the all-russian convention of the soviets might decide otherwise, the power was to pass into the hands of the military revolutionary committee. a few days earlier lenin left finland and was hiding in the outskirts of the city, in the workingmen's quarters. on the evening of the th, he came secretly to the smolny. according to newspaper information, it seemed to him that the issue would be a temporary compromise between ourselves and the kerensky government. the bourgeois press had so often clamored about the approach of the revolution, about the demonstration of armed soldiers on the streets, about pillaging and unavoidable streams of blood, that now this press failed to notice the revolution which was really taking place, and accepted the negotiations of the general staff with us at their face value. meanwhile, without any chaos, without street fights, without firing or bloodshed, the government institutions were occupied one after another by severe and disciplined detachments of soldiers, sailors and red guards, in accordance with the exact telephone orders given from the small room on the third floor of the smolny institute. in the evening a preliminary session of the second all-russian convention of soviets was held. in the name of the central executive committee, dan presented a report. he presented an indictment of the rebellious usurpers and insurgents and attempted to frighten the convention with a vision of the inevitable failure of the insurrection, which, he claimed, would be suppressed by the forces from the front. his address sounded unconvincing and out of place within the walls of a hall where the overwhelming majority of the delegates were enthusiastically observing the victorious advance of the petrograd revolution. by this time the winter palace was surrounded, but it was not yet taken. from time to time there were shots from the windows upon the besiegers, who were closing in slowly and cautiously. from the petropavlovsk fortress, two or three shells from cannons were directed at the palace. their thunder was heard at the smolny. martof spoke with helpless indignation from the platform of the convention, about civil war and especially about the siege of the winter palace, where among the ministers there were--oh, horror!--members of the mensheviki party. the sailors who came to bring information from the battle-place around the palace took the floor against him. they reminded the accusers of the offensive of the th of june, of the treacherous policy of the old government, of the re-establishment of the death penalty for soldiers, of the annihilation of the revolutionary organization, and wound up by vowing to win or die. they also brought word of the first victims from our ranks in the battle before the palace. all arose as if at an unseen signal and, with a unanimity which could be created only by a high moral inspiration, sang the funeral march. he who lived through that moment will never forget it. the session was interrupted. it was impossible to deliberate theoretically the question of the means of reconstructing the government among the echoes of the fighting and shooting under the walls of the winter palace, where the fate of that very government was being decided in a practical way. the taking of the palace, however, was rather slow, and this caused hesitation among the less determined elements of the convention. the orators of the right wing prophesied our near destruction. all anxiously awaited news from the arena of the palace. presently antonoff appeared, who directed the operations against the palace. a death-like silence fell upon the hall. the winter palace was taken; kerensky had fled; other ministers had been arrested and consigned to the fortress of petropavlovsk. the first chapter of the october revolution was over. the right revolutionists and the mensheviki, altogether sixty men, that is, about one-tenth of the convention, left the session in protest. as there was nothing else left to' them, they "placed the entire responsibility" for the coming events upon the bolsheviki and left s. r.'s. the latter were passing through moments of indecision. the past tied them strongly to the party of chernoff. the right wing of this party swerved to the middle and petty bourgeois elements, to the intellectuals of the middle classes, to the well-to-do elements of the villages; and on all decisive questions went hand in hand with the liberal bourgeoisie against us. the more revolutionary elements of the party, reflecting the radicalism of the social demands of the poorest masses of the peasantry, gravitated to the proletariat and their party. they feared, however, to sever the umbilical cord which linked them to their old party. when we left the preliminary parliament, they refused to follow us and warned us against "adventurers," but the insurrection put before them the dilemma of taking sides for or against the soviets. not without hesitation, they assembled on our side of the barricades. the formation of the soviet of the people's commissaries the victory in petrograd was complete. the power went over entirely to the military revolutionary committee. we issued our first decree, abolishing the death penalty and ordering reelections in the army committees, etc. but here we discovered that we were cut off from the provinces. the higher authorities of the railroads, post office and telegraph were against us. the army committees, the municipalities, the zemstvos continued to bombard the smolny with threatening telegrams in which they declared outright war upon us and promised to sweep the insurgents out within a short time. our telegrams, decrees and explanations did not reach the provinces, for the petrograd telegraph agency refused to serve us. in this atmosphere, created by the isolation of the capital from the rest of the country, alarming and monstrous rumors easily sprang up and gained popularity. when finally convinced that the soviet had really taken over the powers of the government, that the old government was arrested, that the streets of petrograd were dominated by armed workers, the bourgeois press, as well as the press which was for effecting a compromise, started a campaign of incomparable madness indeed; there was not a lie or libel which was not mobilized against the military revolutionary committee, its leaders or its commissaries. on the th there was a session of the petrograd soviet, which was attended by delegates from the all-russian council, members of the garrison conference, and numerous members of various parties. here, for the first time in nearly six months, spoke lenin and zinoviev, who were given a stormy ovation. the jubilation over the recent victory was marred somewhat by apprehensions as to how the country would take to the new revolt and as to the soviets' ability to retain control. in the evening an executive session of the council of soviets was held. lenin introduced two decrees: on peace and on the land question. after brief discussion, both decrees were adopted unanimously. it was at this session, too, that a new central authority was created, to be known as the council of people's commissaries. the central committee of our party tried to win the approval of the left s. r.'s, who were invited to participate in establishing the soviet government. they hesitated, on the ground that, in their view, this government should bear a coalition character within the soviet parties. but the mensheviki and the right s. r.'s broke entirely with the council of soviets, deeming a coalition with anti-soviet parties necessary. there was nothing left for us to do but to let the party of left s. r.'s persuade their neighbors to the right to return to the revolutionary camp; and while they were engaged in this hopeless task, we thought it our duty to take the responsibility for the government entirely upon our party. the list of peoples' commissaries was composed exclusively of bolsheviki. there was undoubtedly some political danger in such a course. the change proved too precipitate. (one need but remember that the leaders of this party were only yesterday still under indictment under statute law no. --that is, accused of high treason). but there was no other alternative. the other soviet groups hesitated and evaded the issue, preferring to adopt a waiting policy. finally we became convinced that only our party could set up a revolutionary government. the first days of the new regime the decrees on land and peace, approved by the council, were printed in huge quantities and--through delegates from the front, peasant pedestrians arriving from the villages, and agitators sent by us to the trenches in the provinces--were strewn broadcast all over the country. simultaneously the work of organizing and arming the red guards was carried on. together with the old garrison and the sailors, the red guard was doing hard patrol duty. the council of people's commissaries got control of one government department after another, though everywhere encountering the passive resistance of the higher and middle grade officials. the former soviet parties tried their utmost to find support in this class and organize a sabotage of the new government. our enemies felt certain that the whole affair was a mere episode, that in a day or two--at most a week--the soviet government would be overthrown. the first foreign councillors and members of the embassies, impelled quite as much by curiosity as by necessary business on hand, appeared at the smolny institute. newspaper correspondents hurried thither with their notebooks and cameras. everyone hastened to catch a glimpse of the new government, being sure that in a day or two it would be too late. perfect order reigned in the city. the sailors, soldiers and the red guards bore themselves in these first days with excellent discipline and nobly supported the regime of stern revolutionary order. in the enemy's camp fear arose lest the "episode" should become too protracted, and so the first force for attacking the new government was being hastily organized. in this, the initiative was taken by the social-revolutionists and the mensheviki. in the preceding period they would not, and dared not, take all the power into their own hands. in keeping with their provisional political position, they contented themselves with serving in the coalition government in the capacity of assistants, critics, and benevolent accusers and defenders of the bourgeoisie. during all elections they conscientiously anathematized the liberal bourgeoisie, while in the government they just as regularly combined with it. in the first six months of the revolution they managed, as a result of this policy, to lose absolutely all the confidence of the populace and army; and now, the october revolt was dashing them from the helm of the state. and yet, only yesterday they considered themselves the masters of the situation. the bolshevik leaders whom they persecuted were in hiding, as under czarism. to-day the bolsheviki were in power, while yesterday's coalitionist ministers and their co-workers found themselves cast aside and suddenly deprived of every bit of influence upon the further course of events. they would not and could not believe that this sudden revolt marked the beginning of a new era. they preferred to consider it as merely accidental, the result of some misunderstanding, which could be removed by a few energetic speeches and accusational newspaper articles. but every hour they encountered more and more insurmountable obstacles. this is what caused their blind, truly furious hatred. the bourgeois politicians did not venture, to be sure, to get too close to danger. they pushed to the front the social-revolutionists and mensheviki, who, in the attack upon us acquired all that energy which they had lacked during the period when they were a semi-governing power. their organs circulated the most amazing rumors and lies. in their name it was that the proclamations containing open appeals to crush the new government were issued. it was they, too, who organized the government officials for sabotage and the cadets for military resistance. on the th and th we continued to receive persistent threats by telegraph from army committees, town dumas, vikzhel zemstvos, and organizations (which had charge of the management of the railroad union). on the nevsky prospect, the principal thoroughfare of the capital's bourgeoisie, things were becoming more and more lively. the bourgeois youth was emerging from its stupor and, urged on by the press, was developing a wider and wider agitation against the soviet government. with the help of the bourgeois crowd, the cadets were disarming individual red guardsmen. on the side-streets red guardsmen and sailors were being shot down. a group of cadets seized the telephone station. attempts were made by the same side to seize the telegraph office. finally, we learned that three armored cars had fallen into the hands of some inimical military organization. the bourgeois elements were clearly raising their heads. the newspapers heralded the fact that we had but a few hours more to live. our friends intercepted a few secret orders which made it clear, however, that a militant organization had been formed to fight the petrograd soviet. the leading place in this organization was taken by the so-called committee for the defence of the revolution, organized by the local duma and the central executive committee of the former regime. here and there right social-revolutionists and mensheviki held sway. at the disposal of this committee were the cadets, students, and many counter-revolutionary army officers, who sought, from under cover of the coalitions, to deal the soviets a mortal blow. the cadet uprising of october th the stronghold of the counter-revolutionary organization was the cadet schools and the engineering castle, where considerable arms and ammunition were stored, and from where attacks were made upon the revolutionary government's headquarters. detachments of red guards and sailors had surrounded the cadet schools and were sending in messengers demanding the surrender of all arms. some scattering shots came in reply. the besiegers were trampled upon. crowds of people gathered around them, and not infrequently stray shots fired from the windows would wound passers-by. the skirmishes were assuming an indefinitely prolonged character, and this threatened the revolutionary detachments with demoralization. it was necessary, therefore, to adopt the most determined measures. the task of disarming the cadets was assigned to the commandant of petropavlovsk fortress, ensign b. he closely surrounded the cadet schools, brought up some armored cars and artillery, and gave the cadets ten minutes' time to surrender. renewed firing from the windows was the answer at first. at the expiration of the ten minutes, b. ordered an artillery charge. the very first shots made yawning breaches in the walls of the schoolhouse. the cadets surrendered, though many of them tried to save themselves by flight, firing as they fled. considerable rancor was created, such as always accompanies civil war. the sailors undoubtedly committed many outrages upon individual cadets. the bourgeois press later accused the sailors and the soviet government of inhumanity and brutality. it never mentioned, however, the fact that the revolt of october th- th had been brought about with hardly any firing or sacrifice, and that only the counter-revolutionary conspiracy which was organized by the bourgeoisie and which threw the young generation into the flame of civil war against the workers, soldiers and sailors, led to unavoidable severities and sacrifices. the th of october marked a decided change in the mood of the inhabitants of petrograd. events took on a more tragic character. at the same time, our enemies realized that the situation was far more serious than they thought at first and that the soviet had not the slightest intention of relinquishing the power it had won just to oblige the junkers and the capitalistic newspapers. the work of clearing petrograd of counter-revolutionary centers was carried on intensively. the cadets were almost all disarmed, the participators in the insurrection were arrested and either imprisoned in the petropavlovsk fortress or deported to kronstadt. all publications which openly preached revolt against soviet authority were promptly suppressed. orders were issued for the arrest of such of the leaders of the former soviet parties whose names figured on the intercepted counter-revolutionary edicts. all military resistance in the capital was crushed absolutely. next came a long and exhausting struggle against the sabotage of the bureaucrats, technical workers, clerks, etc. these elements, which by their earning capacity belong largely to the downtrodden class of society, align themselves with the bourgeois class by the conditions of their life and by their general psychology. they had sincerely and faithfully served the government and its institutions when it was headed by czarism. they continued to serve the government when the authority passed over into the hands of the bourgeois imperialists. they were inherited with all their knowledge and technical skill, by the coalition government in the next period of the revolution. but when the revolting workingmen, soldiers and peasants flung the parties of the exploiting classes away from the rudder of state and tried to take the management of affairs into their own hands, then the bureaucrats and clerks flew into a passion and absolutely refused to support the new government in any way. more and more extensive became this sabotage, which was organized mostly by social-revolutionists and mensheviki, and which was supported by funds furnished by the banks and the allied embassies. kerensky's advance on petrograd the stronger the soviet government became in petrograd, the more the bourgeois groups placed their hopes on military aid from without. the petrograd telegraph agency, the railroad telegraph, and the radio-telegraph station of tsarskoye-selo brought from every side news of huge forces marching on petrograd with the object of crushing the rebels there and establishing order. kerensky was making flying trips to the front, and the bourgeois papers reported that he was leading innumerable forces against the bolsheviki. we found ourselves cut off from the rest of the country, as the telegraphers refused to serve us. but the soldiers, who arrived by tens and hundreds on commissions from their respective regiments, invariably said to us: "have no fears of the front; it is entirely on your side. you need but give the word, and we will send to your aid--even this very day--a division or a corps." it was the same in the army as everywhere else; the masses were for us, and the upper classes against us. in the hands of the latter was the military-technical machinery. various parts of the vast army proved to be isolated one from another. we were isolated from both the army and the people. nevertheless, the news of the soviet government at petrograd and its decrees spread throughout the country and roused the local soviets to rebel against the old government. the reports of kerensky's advance on petrograd, at the head of some forces or other, soon became more persistent and assumed more definite outlines. we were informed from tsarskoye-selo that cossack echelons were not far from there, while an appeal, signed by kerensky and general krassnov, was being circulated in petrograd calling upon the whole garrison to join the government's forces, which were expected any hour to enter the capital. the cadet insurrection of october th was undoubtedly connected with kerensky's undertaking, only that it broke out too soon, owing to determined action on our part. the tsarskoye-selo garrison was ordered to demand of the approaching cossack regiments recognition of the soviet government. in case of refusal, the cossacks were to be disarmed. but that garrison proved to be ill-fitted for military operations. it had no artillery and no leaders, its officers being unfriendly toward the soviet government. the cossacks took possession of the radio-telegraph station at tsarskoye-selo, the most powerful one in the country, and marched on. the garrisons of peterhof, krasnoye-selo and gatchina displayed neither initiative nor resolution. after the almost bloodless victory at petrograd, the soldiers confidently assumed that matters would take a similar course in the future. all that was necessary, they thought, was to send an agitator to the cossacks, who would lay down their arms the moment the object of the proletarian revolution was explained to them. korniloff's counter-revolutionary uprising was put down by means of speeches and fraternization. by agitation and well-planned seizure of certain institutions--without a fight--the kerensky government was overthrown. the same methods were now being employed by the leaders of the tsarskoye-selo, krasnoye-selo and the gatchina soviets with general krassnov's cossacks. but this time they did not work. though without determination or enthusiasm, the cossacks did advance. individual detachments approached gatchina and krasnoye-selo, engaged the scanty forces of the local garrisons, and sometimes disarmed them. about the numerical strength of kerensky's forces we at first had no idea whatever. some said that general krassnov headed ten thousand men; others affirmed that he had no more than a thousand; while the unfriendly newspapers and circulars announced, in letters an inch big, that two corps were lined up beyond tsarskoye-selo. there was a general want of confidence in the petrograd garrison. no sooner had it won a bloodless victory, than it was called upon to march out against an enemy of unknown numbers and engage in battles of uncertain outcome. in the garrison conference, the discussion centered about the necessity of sending out more and more agitators and of issuing appeals to the cossacks; for to the soldiers it seemed impossible that the cossacks would refuse to rise to the point of view which the petrograd garrison was defending in its struggle. nevertheless, advanced groups of cossacks approached quite close to petrograd, and we anticipated that the principal battle would take place in the streets of the city. the greatest resolution was shown by the red guards. they demanded arms, ammunition, and leadership. but everything in the military machine was disorganized and out of gear, owing partly to disuse and partly to evil intent. the officers had resigned. many had fled. the rifles were in one place and the cartridges in another. matters were still worse with artillery. the cannons, gun carriages and the military stores were all in different places; and all these had to be groped for in the dark. the various regiments did not have at their disposal either sappers' tools or field telephones. the revolutionary general staff, which tried to straighten out things from above, encountered insurmountable obstacles, the greatest of which was the sabotage of the military-technical employees. then we decided to appeal directly to the working class. we stated that the success of the revolution was most seriously threatened, and that it was for them--by their energy, initiative, and self-denial--to save and strengthen the regime of proletarian and peasant government. this appeal met with tremendous practical success almost immediately. thousands of workingmen proceeded toward kerensky's forces and began digging trenches. the munition workers manned the cannon, themselves obtaining ammunition for them from various stores; requisitioned horses; brought the guns into the necessary positions and adjusted them; organized a commissary department; procured gasoline, motors, automobiles; requisitioned provisions and forage; and put the sanitary trains on a proper footing--created, in short, the entire war machinery, which we had vainly endeavored to create from above. when scores of heavy guns reached the lines, the disposition of our soldiers changed immediately. under cover of the artillery they were ready to repulse the cossacks' attack. in the first lines were the sailors and red guards. a few officers, politically unrelated to us but sincerely attached to their regiments, accompanied their soldiers to the lines and directed their operations against krassnov's cossacks. collapse of kerensky's attempt meanwhile telegrams spread the report all over the country and abroad that the bolshevik "adventure" had been disposed of and that kerensky had entered petrograd and was establishing order with an iron hand. on the other hand, in petrograd itself, the bourgeois press, emboldened by the proximity of kerensky's troops, wrote about the complete demoralization of the petrograd garrison; about an irresistible advance of the cossacks, equipped with much artillery; and predicted the imminent fall of the smolny institute. our chief handicap was, as already stated, the lack of suitable mechanical accessories and of men able to direct military operations. even those officers who had conscientiously accompanied their soldiers to the lines, declined the position of commander-in-chief. after long deliberation, we hit upon the following combination: the garrison council selected a committee of five persons, which was entrusted with the supreme control of all operations against the counter-revolutionary forces moving on petrograd. this committee subsequently reached an understanding with colonel muravief, who was in the opposition party under the kerensky regime, and who now, on his own initiative, offered his services to the soviet government. on the cold night of october th, muravief and i started by automobile for the lines. wagons with provisions, forage, military supplies and artillery trailed along the road. all this was done by the workingmen of various factories. several times our automobile was stopped on the way by red guard patrols who verified our permit. since the first days of the october revolution, every automobile in town had been requisitioned, and no automobile could be ridden through the streets of the city or in the outskirts of the capital without a permit from the smolny institute. the vigilance of the red guards was beyond all praise. they stood on watch about small camp fires, rifle in hand, hours at a time. the sight of these young armed workmen by the camp fires in the snow was the best symbol of the proletarian revolution. many guns had been drawn up in position, and there was no lack of ammunition. the decisive encounter developed on this very day, between krasnoye-selo and tsarskoye-selo. after a fierce artillery duel, the cossacks, who kept on advancing as long as they met no obstacles, hastily withdrew. they had been fooled all the time by tales of harsh and cruel acts committed by the bolsheviki, who wished, as it were, to sell russia to the german kaiser. they had been assured that almost the entire garrison at petrograd was impatiently awaiting them as deliverers. the first serious resistance completely disorganized their ranks and sealed the fate of kerensky's entire undertaking. the retreat of krassnov's cossacks enabled us to get control of the radio station at tsarskoye-selo. we immediately wirelessed the news of our victory over kerensky's forces. our foreign friends informed us subsequently that the german wireless station refused, on orders from above, to receive this wireless message. [footnote: i cite here the text of this wireless message: "selo pulkovo. general staff : p. m. the night of october th- st will go down in history. kerensky's attempt to march counter-revolutionary forces upon the capital of the revolution has received a decisive check. kerensky is retreating, we are advancing. the soldiers, sailors and workingmen of petrograd have shown that they can and will, gun in hand, affirm the will and power of proletarian democracy. the bourgeoisie tried to isolate the army of the revolution and kerensky attempted to crush it by cossackism. both have been frustrated. "the great idea of the reign of a workingmen's and peasants' democracy united the ranks of the army and hardened its will. the whole country will now come to understand that the soviet government is not a passing phenomenon, but a permanent fact of the supremacy of the workers, soldiers and peasants. kerensky's repulse was the repulse of the middle class, the bourgeoisie and the kornilovites. kerensky's repulse means the affirmation of the people's rights to a free, peaceful life, to land, food and power. the pulkovsky division, by their brilliant charge, is strengthening the cause of the proletarian and peasant revolution. there can be no return to the past. there is still fighting, obstacles and sacrifice ahead of us. but the way is open and victory assured. "revolutionary russia and the soviet government may well be proud of their pulkovsky division, commanded by colonel walden. may the names of the fallen never be forgotten. all honor to the fighters for the revolution--the soldiers and the officers who stood by the people! long live revolutionary and socialist russia! in the name of the council of people's commissaries, l. trotzky, oct. st, ."] the first reaction of the german authorities to the events of october was thus one of fear--fear lest these events provoke disturbances in germany itself. in austria-hungary, part of our telegram was accepted and, so far as we can tell, has been the source of information for all europe upon the ill-starred attempt of kerensky to recover his power and its miserable failure. discontent was rife among krassnov's cossacks. they began sending their scouts into petrograd and even official delegates to smolny. there they had the opportunity to convince themselves that perfect order reigned in the capital, thanks to the petrograd garrison, which unanimously supported the soviet government. the cossacks' disorganization became the more acute as the absurdity of the plan to take petrograd with some thousand horsemen dawned upon them--for the supports promised them from the front never arrived. krassnov's detachment withdrew to gatchinsk, and when we started out thither the next day, krassnov's staff were already virtually prisoners of the cossacks themselves. our gatchinsk garrison was holding all the most important military positions. the cossacks, on the other hand, though not yet disarmed, were absolutely in no position for further resistance. they wanted but one thing: to be allowed as soon as possible to return to the don region or, at least, back to the front. the gatchinsk palace presented a curious sight. at every entrance stood a special guard, while at the gates were artillery and armored cars. sailors, soldiers and red guards occupied the royal apartments, decorated with precious paintings. scattered upon the tables, made of expensive wood, lay soldiers' clothes, pipes and empty sardine boxes. in one of the rooms general krassnov's staff had established itself. on the floor lay mattresses, caps and greatcoats. the representative of the revolutionary war committee, who escorted us, entered the quarters of the general staff, noisily dropped his rifle-butt to the floor and resting upon it, announced: "general krassnov, you and your staff are prisoners of the soviet authorities." immediately armed red guards barred both doors. kerensky was nowhere to be seen. he had again fled, as he had done before from the winter palace. as to the circumstances attending this flight, general krassnov made a written statement on november st. i cite here in full this curious document. * * * * * november st, , o'clock. about o'clock today, i was summoned by the supreme commander-in-chief, kerensky. he was very agitated and nervous. "general," said he, "you have betrayed me--your cossacks here positively say that they will arrest me and turn me over to the sailors." "yes," i answered, "there is talk about it, and i know that you have no sympathizers here at all." "but are the officers, too, of the same mind?" "yes, the officers are especially dissatisfied with you." "then, what am i to do? i'll have to commit suicide." "if you are an honest man, you will proceed immediately to petrograd under a flag of truce and report to the revolutionary committee, where you will talk things over, as the head of the government." "yes, i'll do that, general!" "i will furnish a guard for you and will ask that a sailor accompany you." "no, anyone but a sailor. don't you know that dybenko is here?" "no, i don't know who dybenko is." "he is an enemy of mine." "well, that can't be helped. when one plays for great stakes, he must be prepared to lose all." "all right. only i shall go at night." "why? that would be flight. go calmly and openly, so that everyone can see that you are fleeing." "well, all right. only you must provide for me a dependable convoy." "all right." i went and called out a cossack from the th don cossack regiment, a certain rysskov, and ordered him to appoint eight cossacks to guard the supreme commander-in-chief. half an hour later, the cossacks came and reported that kerensky had gone already--that he had fled. i gave an alarm and ordered a search for him. i believe that he cannot have escaped from gatchinsk and must now be in hiding here somewhere. commanding the rd corps, major-general krassnov. * * * * * thus ended this undertaking. our opponents still would not yield, however, and did not admit that the question of government power was settled. they continued to base their hopes on the front. many leaders of the former soviet parties--chernoff, tseretelli, avksentiev, gotz and others--went to the front, entered into negotiations with the old army committees, and, according to newspaper reports, tried even in the camp, to form a new ministry. all this came to naught. the old army committees had lost all their significance, and intensive work was going on at the front in connection with the conferences and councils called for the purpose of reorganizing all army organizations. in these re-elections the soviet government was everywhere victorious. from gatchinsk, our divisions proceeded along the railroad further in the direction of the luga river and pskov. on the way, they met a few more trainloads of shock-troops and cossacks, which had been called out by kerensky, or which individual generals had sent over. with one of these echelons there was even an armed encounter. but most of the soldiers that were sent from the front to petrograd declared, as soon as they met with representatives of the soviet forces, that they had been deceived and that they would not lift a finger against the government of soldiers and workingmen. internal friction in the meantime, the struggle for soviet control spread all over the country. in moscow, especially, this struggle took on an extremely protracted and bloody character. perhaps not the least important cause of this was the fact that the leaders of the revolt did not at once show the necessary determination in attacking. in civil war, more than in any other, victory can be insured only by a determined and persistent course. there must be no vacillation. to engage in parleys is dangerous; merely to mark time is suicidal. we are dealing here with the masses, who have never held any power in their hands, who are therefore most wanting in political self-confidence. any hesitation at revolutionary headquarters demoralizes them immediately. it is only when a revolutionary party steadily and resolutely makes for its goal, that it can help the toilers to overcome their century-old instincts of slavery and lead them on to victory. and only by these means of aggressive charges can victory be achieved with the smallest expenditure of energy and the least number of sacrifices. but the great difficulty is to acquire such firm and positive tactics. the people's want of confidence in their own power and their lack of political experience are naturally reflected in their leaders, who, in their turn, find themselves subjected, besides, to the tremendous pressure of bourgeois public opinion, from above. the liberal bourgeoisie treated with contempt and indignation the mere idea of the possibility of a working class government and gave free vent to their feelings on the subject, in the innumerable organs at their disposal. close behind them trailed the intellectuals, who, with all their professions of radicalism and all the socialistic coating of their world-philosophy, are, in the depths of their hearts, completely steeped in slavish worship of bourgeois strength and administrative ability. all these "socialistic" intellectuals hastily joined the right and considered the ever-increasing strength of the soviet government as the clear beginning of the end. after the representatives of the "liberal" professions came the petty officials, the administrative technicians--all those elements which materially and spiritually subsist on the crumbs that fall from the bourgeois table. the opposition of these elements was chiefly passive in character, especially after the crushing of the cadet insurrection; but, nevertheless, it might still seem formidable. we were being denied co-operation at every step. the government officials would either leave the ministry or refuse to work while remaining in it. they would turn over neither the business of the department nor its money accounts. the telephone operators refused to connect us, while our messages were either held up or distorted in the telegraph offices. we could not get translators, stenographers or even copyists. all this could not fail to create such an atmosphere as led various elements in the higher ranks of our own party to doubt whether, in the face of a boycott by bourgeois society, the toilers could manage to put the machinery of government in working order and continue in power. opinions were voiced as to the necessity of coalition. coalition with whom? with the liberal bourgeoisie. but an attempt at coalition with them had driven the revolution into a terrible morass. the revolt of the th of october was an act of self-preservation on the part of the masses after the period of impotence and treason of the leaders of coalition government. there remained for us only coalition in the ranks of so-called revolutionary democracy, that is, coalition of all the soviet parties. such a coalition we did, in fact, propose from the very beginning--at the session of the second all-russian council of soviets, on the th of october. the kerensky government had been overthrown, and we suggested that the council of soviets take the government into its own hands. but the right parties withdrew, slamming the door after them. and this was the best thing they could have done. they represented an insignificant section of the council. they no longer had any following in the masses, and those classes which still supported them out of mere inertia, were coming over to our side more and more. coalition with the right social-revolutionists and the mensheviki could not broaden the social basis of the soviet government; and would, at the same time, introduce into the composition of this government elements which were completely disintegrated by political skepticism and idolatry of the liberal bourgeoisie. the whole strength of the new government lay in the radicalism of its program and the boldness of its actions. to tie itself up with the chernofi and tseretelli factions would mean to bind the new government hand and foot--to deprive it of freedom of action and thereby forfeit the confidence of the masses in the shortest possible time. our nearest political neighbors to the right were the so-called "left social revolutionists." they were, in general, quite ready to support us, but endeavored, nevertheless, to form a coalition socialist government. the management of the railroad union (the so-called vikzhal), the central committee of the postal telegraph employees, and the union of government officials were all against us. and in the higher circles of our own party, voices were being raised as to the necessity of reaching an understanding with these organizations, one way or another. but on what basis? all the above-mentioned controlling organizations of the old period had outlived their usefulness. they bore approximately the same relation to the entire lower personnel as did the old army committees to the masses of soldiers in the trenches. history has created a big gulf between the higher classes and the lower. unprincipled combinations of these leaders of another day--leaders made antiquated by the revolution--were doomed to inevitable failure. it was necessary to depend wholly and confidently upon the masses in order, jointly with them, to overcome the sabotage and the aristocratic pretensions of the upper classes. we left it to the left social-revolutionists to continue the hopeless efforts for coalition. our policy was, on the contrary, to line up the toiling lower classes against the representatives of organizations which supported the kerensky regime. this uncompromising policy caused considerable friction and even division in the upper circles of our party. in the central executive committee, the left social revolutionists protested against the severity of our measures and insisted upon the necessity for compromises. they met with support on the part of some of the bolsheviki. three people's commissaries gave up their portfolios and left the government. a few other party leaders sided with them in principle. this created a very deep impression in intellectual and bourgeois circles. if the bolsheviki could not be defeated by the cadets and krassnov's cossacks, thought they, it is quite clear that the soviet government must now perish as a result of internal dissension. however, the masses never noticed this dissension at all. they unanimously supported the soviet of people's commissaries, not only against counter-revolutionary instigators and sabotagers but also against the coalitionists and the skeptics. the fate of the constituent assembly when, after the korniloff episode, the ruling soviet parties tried to smooth over their laxness toward the counter-revolutionary bourgeoisie, they demanded a speedier convocation of the constituent assembly. kerensky, whom the soviets had just saved from the too light embraces of his ally, korniloff, found himself compelled to make compromises. the call for the constituent assembly was issued for the end of november. by that time, however, circumstances had so shaped themselves that there was no guarantee whatever that the constituent assembly would really be convoked. the greatest degree of disorganization was taking place at the front. desertions were increasing every day; the masses of soldiers threatened to leave the trenches, whole regiments at a time, and move to the rear, devastating everything on their way. in the villages, a general seizure of lands and landholders' utensils was going on. martial law had been declared in several provinces. the germans continued to advance, captured riga, and threatened petrograd. the right wing of the bourgeoisie was openly rejoicing over the danger that threatened the revolutionary capital. the government offices at petrograd were being evacuated, and kerensky's government was preparing to move to moscow. all this made the actual convocation of the constituent assembly not only doubtful, but hardly even probable. from this point of view, the october revolution seems to have been the deliverance of the constituent assembly, as it has been the savior of the revolution generally. when we were declaring that the road to the constituent assembly was not by way of tseretelli's preliminary parliament, but by way of the seizure of the reigns of government by the soviets, we were quite sincere. but the interminable delay in convoking the constituent assembly was not without effect upon this institution itself. heralded in the first days of the revolution, it came into being only after eight or nine months of bitter class and party struggle. it came too late to play a creative role. its internal inadequacy had been predetermined by a single fact--a fact which might seem unimportant at first, but which subsequently took on tremendous importance for the fate of the constituent assembly. numerically, the principal revolutionary party in the first epoch was the party of social-revolutionists. i have already referred to its formlessness and variegated composition. the revolution led inevitably to the dismemberment of such of its members as had joined it under the banner of populism. the left wing, which had a following among part of the workers and the vast masses of poor peasants, was becoming more and more alienated from the rest. this wing found itself in uncompromising opposition to the party and middle bourgeois branches of social revolutionists. but the inertness of party organization and party tradition held back the inevitable process of cleavage. the proportional system of elections still holds full sway, as every one knows, in party lists. since these lists were made up two or three months before the october revolution and were not subject to change, the left and the right social revolutionists still figured in these lists as one and the same party. thus, by the time of the october revolution--that is, the period when the right social revolutionists were arresting the left and then the left were combining with the bolsheviki for the overthrow of kerensky's ministry, the old lists remained in full force; and in the elections for the constituent assembly the peasants were compelled to vote for lists of names at the head of which stood kerensky, followed by those of left social revolutionists who participated in the plot for his overthrow. if the months preceding the october revolution were months of continuous gain in popular support for the left--of a general increase in bolshevik following among workers, soldiers and peasants--then this process was reflected within the party of social revolutionists in an increase of the left wing at the expense of the right. nevertheless, on the party lists of the social revolutionists there was a predominance of three to one of old leaders of the right wing--of men who had lost all their revolutionary reputation in the days of coalition with the liberal bourgeoisie. to this should be added also the fact that the elections themselves were held during the first weeks after the october revolution. the news of the change traveled rather slowly from the capital to the provinces, from the cities to the villages. the peasantry in many places had but a very vague idea of what was taking place in petrograd and moscow. they voted for "land and liberty," for their representatives in the land committees, who in most cases gathered under the banner of populism: but thereby they were voting for kerensky and avksentiev, who were dissolving the land committees, and arresting their members. as a result of this, there came about the strange political paradox that one of the two parties which dissolved the constituent assembly--the left social-revolutionists--had won its representation by being on the same list of names with the party which gave a majority to the constituent assembly. this matter-of-fact phase of the question should give a very clear idea of the extent to which the constituent assembly lagged behind the course of political events and party groupings. we must consider the question of principles. the principles of democracy and proletarian dictatorship as marxists, we have never been idol-worshippers of formal democracy. in a society of classes, democratic institutions not only do not eliminate class struggle, but also give to class interests an utterly imperfect expression. the propertied classes always have at their disposal tens and hundreds of means for falsifying, subverting and violating the will of the toilers. and democratic institutions become a still less perfect medium for the expression of the class struggle under revolutionary circumstances. marx called revolutions "the locomotives of history." owing to the open and direct struggle for power, the working people acquire much political experience in a short time and pass rapidly from one stage to the next in their development. the ponderous machinery of democratic institutions lags behind this evolution all the more, the bigger the country and the less perfect its technical apparatus. the majority in the constituent assembly proved to be social revolutionists, and, according to parliamentary rules of procedure, the control of the government belonged to them. but the party of right social revolutionists had a chance to acquire control during the entire pre-october period of the revolution. yet, they avoided the responsibilities of government, leaving the lion's share of it to the liberal bourgeoisie. by this very course the right social revolutionists lost the last vestiges of their influence with the revolutionary elements by the time the numerical composition of the constituent assembly formally obliged them to form a government. the working class, as well as the red guards, were very hostile to the party of right social revolutionists. the vast majority of soldiers supported the bolsheviki. the revolutionary element in the provinces divided their sympathies between the left social revolutionists and the bolsheviki. the sailors, who had played such an important role in revolutionary events, were almost unanimously on our side. the right social revolutionists, moreover, had to leave the soviets, which in october--that is, before the convocation of the constituent assembly--had taken the government into their own hands. on whom, then, could a ministry formed by the constituent assembly's majority depend for support? it would be backed by the upper classes in the provinces, the intellectuals, the government officials, and temporarily by the bourgeoisie on the right. but such a government would lack all the material means of administration. at such a political center as petrograd, it would encounter irresistible opposition from the very start. if under these circumstances the soviets, submitting to the formal logic of democratic conventions, had turned the government over to the party of kerensky and chernov, such a government, compromised and debilitated as it was, would only introduce temporary confusion into the political life of the country, and would be overthrown by a new uprising in a few weeks. the soviets decided to reduce this belated historical experiment to its lowest terms, and dissolved the constituent assembly the very first day it met. for this, our party has been most severely censured. the dispersal of the constituent assembly has also created a decidedly unfavorable impression among the leading circles of the european socialist parties. kautsky has explained, in a series of articles written with his characteristic pedantry, the interrelation existing between the social-revolutionary problems of the proletariat and the regime of political democracy. he tries to prove that for the working class it is always expedient, in the long run, to preserve the essential elements of the democratic order. this is, of course, true as a general rule. but kautsky has reduced this historical truth to professorial banality. if, in the final analysis, it is to the advantage of the proletariat to introduce its class struggle and even its dictatorship, through the channels of democratic institutions, it does not at all follow that history always affords it the opportunity for attaining this happy consummation. there is nothing in the marxian theory to warrant the deduction that history always creates such conditions as are most "favorable" to the proletariat. it is difficult to tell now how the course of the revolution would have run if the constituent assembly had been convoked in its second or third month. it is quite probable that the then dominant social revolutionary and menshevik parties would have compromised themselves, together with the constituent assembly, in the eyes of not only the more active elements supporting the soviets, but also of the more backward democratic masses, who might have been attached, through their expectations not to the side of the soviets, but to that of the constituent assembly. under such circumstances the dissolution of the constituent assembly might have led to new elections, in which the party of the left could have secured a majority. but the course of events has been different. the elections for the constituent assembly occurred in the ninth month of the revolution. by that time the class struggle had assumed such intensity that it broke the formal frames of democracy by sheer internal force. the proletariat drew the army and the peasantry after it. these classes were in a state of direct and bitter war with the right social revolutionists. this party, owing to the clumsy electoral democratic machinery, received a majority in the constituent assembly, reflecting the pre-october epoch of the revolution. the result was a contradiction which was absolutely irreducible within the limits of formal democracy. and only political pedants who do not take into account the revolutionary logic of class relations, can, in the face of the post-october situation, deliver futile lectures to the proletariat on the benefits and advantages of democracy for the cause of the class struggle. the question was put by history far more concretely and sharply. the constituent assembly, owing to the character of its majority, was bound to turn over the government to the chernov, kerensky and tseretelli group. could this group have guided the destinies of the revolution? could it have found support in that class which constitutes the backbone of the revolution? no. the real kernel of the class revolution has come into irreconcilable conflict with its democratic shell. by this situation the fate of the constituent assembly had been sealed. its dissolution became the only possible surgical remedy for the contradiction, which had been created, not by us, but by all the preceding course of events. peace negotiations at the historic night session of the second all-russian congress of the soviets the decree on peace was adopted. (the full text is printed in the appendix.) at that moment the soviet government was only becoming established in the important centers of the country and there was very little confidence abroad in its power. the soviet adopted the decree unanimously. but this seemed to many no more than a political demonstration. those who were for a compromise preached at every opportunity that our resolution would bring no results; for, on the one hand, the german imperialists would not recognize and would not deal with us; on the other hand, our allies would declare war upon us as soon as we should start negotiating a separate peace. under the shadow of these predictions we took our first steps to secure a general democratic peace. the decree was adopted on the th of october, when kerensky and krassnov were at the gates of petrograd. on the th of november, we addressed by wireless an invitation to our allies and enemies to conclude a general peace. in reply the allied governments addressed to general dukhonin, then commander-in-chief, through their military attaches, a communication stating that further steps to separate peace negotiations would lead to the gravest consequences. to this protest we answered the th of november by appealing to all the workers, soldiers and peasants. in this appeal we declared that under no circumstances would we permit our army to shed its blood under the club of the foreign bourgeoisie. we swept aside the threat of the western imperialists and took upon ourselves the responsibility for our peace policy before the international working class. first of all, we published, in accordance with our promises, made as a matter of principle, the secret treaties and declared that we would relinquish everything in these treaties that was against the interests of the masses of the people in all countries. the capitalist governments made an attempt to make use of our disclosures against one another, but the masses of the people understood and recognized us. not a single social patriotic publication, as far as we know, dared to protest against having all the methods of diplomacy radically changed by a government of peasants and workers; they dared not protest against us for denouncing the dishonest cunning, chicanery and cheating of the old diplomacy. we made it the task of our diplomacy to enlighten the masses of the peoples, to open their eyes to the real meaning of the policy of their governments, in order to weld them together in a common struggle and a common hatred against the bourgeois capitalist order. the german bourgeois press accused us of "dragging on" the peace negotiations; but all nations anxiously followed the discussions at brest-litovsk, and in this way we rendered, during the two months and a half of peace negotiations, a service to the cause of peace which was recognized even by the more honest of our enemies. the question of peace was first put before the world in a shape which made it impossible to side-track it any longer by machinations behind the scenes. on the nd of november a truce was signed to discontinue military activities on the entire front from the baltic to the black sea. once more we requested our allies to join us and to conduct together with us the peace negotiations. there was no reply, though this time the allies did not again attempt to frighten us by threats. the peace negotiations were started december th, a month and a half after the peace decree was adopted. the accusations of the purchased press and of the social-traitor press that we had made no attempt to agree with our allies on a common policy was therefore entirely false. for a month and a half we kept our allies informed about every step we made and always called upon them to become a party to the peace negotiations. our conscience is clear before the peoples of france, italy and great britain.... we did all in our power to get all the belligerents to join the peace negotiations. if we were compelled to start separate peace negotiations, it was not because of any fault of ours, but because of the western imperialists, as well as those of the russian parties, which continued predicting the approaching destruction of the workmen's and peasants' government of russia and who persuaded the allies not to pay serious attention to our peace initiative. but be that as it may, on the th of december the peace conversations were started. our delegation made a statement of principles which set forth the basis of a general democratic peace in the exact expressions of the decree of the th of october ( th of november). the other side demanded that the session be broken off, and the reopening of the sessions was later, at the suggestion of kuehlmann, repeatedly delayed. it was clear that the delegation of the teuton allies experienced no small difficulty in the formulation of its reply to our delegation. on the th of december this reply was given. the diplomats of the teuton allies expressed agreement with our democratic formula of peace without annexations and indemnities, on the basis of self-determination of peoples. we saw clearly that this was but pretense; but we had not expected even that they would try to pretend; because, as the french writer has said, hypocrisy is the tribute that vice pays to virtue. the fact that the german imperialists found it necessary to make this tribute to the principles of democracy, was, in our eyes, evidence that the situation of affairs within germany was serious enough.... but if we, generally speaking, had no illusions concerning the love for democracy of messrs. kuehlmann and czernin--we know well enough the nature of the german and austro-hungarian dominating classes--it must nevertheless be admitted that we had not the slightest idea of the chasm which separated the real intentions of german imperialism from those principles which were put forth on the th of december by mr. von kuehlmann as a parody on the russian revolution--a chasm which was revealed so strikingly a few days later. such audacity we had never expected. kuehlmann's reply made a tremendous impression upon the working masses of russia. it was interpreted as a result of the fear felt by the dominant classes of the central empires because of the discontent and the growing impatience of the working masses of germany. on the th of december there took place in petrograd a joint demonstration of workmen and soldiers for a democratic peace. the next morning our delegation came back from brest-litovsk and brought those brigand demands which mr. von kuehlmann made to us in the name of the central empires as an interpretation of his "democratic" formulae. at the first glance it may seem incomprehensible why the german diplomacy should have presented its democratic formulae if it intended within two or three days to disclose its wolfish appetite. what was it that the german diplomacy expected to bring about? at least, the theoretic discussions which developed around the democratic formulae, owing largely to the initiative of kuehlmann himself, were not without their danger. that the diplomacy of the central empires could not reap many laurels in that way must have been clear beforehand to that diplomacy itself. but the secret of the conduct of the diplomacy of kuehlmann consisted in that that gentleman was sincerely convinced of our readiness to play a four-handed game with him. his way of reasoning was approximately as follows: russia needs peace. the bolsheviki got the power because of their struggle for peace. the bolsheviki desire to remain in power and this is possible for them only on condition that peace is concluded. it is true that they bound themselves to a definite democratic program of peace, but why do diplomats exist if not for the purpose of making black look white? we germans will make it easier for the bolsheviki by covering our plunders by democratic formulas. the bolshevist diplomacy will have plenty of reason not to dig for the political essence of the matter, or, rather, not to expose to the entire world the contents of the enticing formulae.... in other words, kuehlmann relied upon a silent agreement with us. he would return to us our fine formulas and we should give him a chance to get provinces and peoples for germany without a protest. in the eyes of the german workers, the annexations by force would thus receive the sanction of the russian revolution. when during the discussions, we showed that with us, it was not a matter of empty words or of camouflaging a conspiracy concluded behind the scenes, but a matter of democratic principles for the international life of the community of nations, kuehlmann took it as a willful and malicious breaking of the silent agreement. he would not by any means recede from the position taken in the formulas of the th of december. relying upon his cunning, bureaucratic and judicial logic, he tried in the face of the entire world to show that white is in no way different from black, and it was our own perverseness which made us insist that there was such a difference. count czernin, the representative of austria-hungary, played a part in those negotiations which no one would consider inspiring or satisfactory. he was an awkward second and upon instructions from kuehlmann took it upon himself in all critical moments to utter the most extreme and cynical declarations. general hoffmann brought a refreshing note into the negotiations. showing no great sympathy for the diplomatic constructions of kuehlmann, the general several times put his soldierly boot upon the table, around which a complicated judicial debate was developing. we, on our part, did not doubt for a single minute that just this boot of general hoffmann was the only element of serious reality in these negotiations. the important trump in the hands of mr. kuehlmann was the participation in the negotiations of a delegation of the kiev rada. for the ukrainian middle classes, who had seized the power, the most important factor seemed to be the "recognition" of their government by the capitalist governments of europe. at first the rada placed itself at the disposal of the allied imperialists, received from them some pocket money, and immediately thereupon sent their representatives to brest-litovsk in order to make a bargain behind the back of the russian people with the government of austria-hungary for the recognition of the legitimate birth of their government. they had hardly taken this first step on the road to "international" existence, when the kiev diplomacy revealed the same narrow-mindedness and the same moral standards which were always so characteristic of the petty politicians of the balkan peninsula. messrs. kuehlmann and czernin certainly had no illusions concerning the solidity of the new participant in the negotiations. but they thought, and correctly so, that the participation of the kiev delegation complicated the game not without advantage for themselves. at its first appearance at brest-litovsk, the kiev delegation characterized ukraine as a component part of the russian federated republic that was in progress of formation. this apparently embarrassed the diplomats of the central empires, who considered it their main task to convert the russian republic into a new balkan peninsula. at their second appearance the delegates of the rada declared, under dictation from the austro-hungarian diplomacy, that ukraine refused to join the russian federation and was becoming an entirely independent republic. in order to give the reader an opportunity to get a better idea of the situation which was thus created for the soviet power in the last moment of the peace negotiations, i think it best to reproduce here in its basic parts the address made by the author of these lines in his capacity as the people's commissar on foreign affairs at the session of the central executive committee on the th of february, . address of the peoples commissar on foreign affairs comrades: upon soviet russia has fallen the task not only to construct the new but also to recapitulate the old to a certain degree, or, rather, to a very large degree--to pay all bills, first of all the bills of the war, which has lasted three and a half years. the war put the economic power of the belligerent countries to a severe test. the fate of russia, a poor, backward country, in a protracted war was predetermined. in the terrible collision of the military machines the determining factor, after all is said and done, is the ability of the country to adapt its industries to the military needs, to rebuild it on the shortest notice and to produce in continuously increasing quantities the weapons of destruction which are used up at such an enormous rate during this massacre of peoples. almost every country, including the most backward, could and did have powerful weapons of destruction at the beginning of the war; that is, it obtained them from foreign countries. that is what all the backward countries did, and so did russia. but the war speedily wears out its dead capital, demanding that it be continuously replenished. the military power of every single country drawn into the whirlpool of the world massacre was, as a matter of fact, measured by its ability to produce independently and during the war itself, its cannons and shells and the other weapons of destruction. if the war had decided the problem of the balance of power in a very short time, russia might conceivably have turned out to be on that side of the trenches which victory favored. but the war dragged along for a long time, and it was not an accident that it did so. the fact alone that the international politics were for the last fifty years reduced to the construction of the so-called european "balance of power," that is, to a state in which the hostile powers approximately balance one another, this fact alone was bound--when the power and wealth of the present bourgeois nations is considered--to make it a war of an extremely protracted character. that meant first of all the exhaustion of the weaker and economically less developed countries. the most powerful country in a military sense proved to be germany, because of the strength of the industries and because of their modern and rational construction as against the archaic construction of the german state. france, with its undeveloped state of capitalism, proved to be far behind germany, and even such a powerful colonial power as great britain, owing to the conservative and routine character of the english industries, proved to be weaker than germany. when history put before the russian revolution the question of the peace negotiations, we had no doubt that in these negotiations, and so long as the decisive power of the revolutionary proletariat of the world had not interfered, we should be compelled to stand the bill of three and a half years of war. there was no doubt in our minds that in the person of the german imperialism we were dealing with an opponent who was saturated with the consciousness of his immense power, which was strikingly revealed during the present war. all the arguments made by bourgeois cliques that we might have been incomparably stronger if we had conducted these negotiations together with our allies are absolutely without foundation. in order that we might at an indefinite future date conduct negotiations together with our allies, we should first of all have had to continue the war together with them. and if our country was weakened and exhausted, the continuation of the war, a failure to bring it to a conclusion, would have still further weakened and exhausted it. we should have had to settle the war under conditions still more unfavorable to us. in the case even that the combination of which russia, owing to international intrigues of czarism and the bourgeoisie, had become a part--the combination headed by great britain--in the case even that this combination had come out of the war completely victorious--let us for a moment admit the possibility of such a not very probable issue--even in that case, comrades, it does not mean that our country would also have come out victorious. for during further continuation of this protracted war, russia would have become even more exhausted and plundered than now. the masters of that combination, who would concentrate in their hands the fruits of the victory, that is, great britain and america, would have displayed toward our country the same methods which were displayed by germany during the peace negotiations. it would be absurd and childish to appraise the politics of the imperialistic countries from the point of view of any considerations other than those considerations of naked interests and material power. consequently, if we, as a nation are at present weakened before the imperialism of the world, we are weakened, not because of extricating ourselves from the fiery ring of the war, having already previously extricated ourselves from the shackles of international military obligations: no! we are weakened by that very policy of the czarists and the bourgeois classes, which we, as a revolutionary party, have always fought against before this war and during this war. you remember, comrades, under what conditions our delegation went to brest-litovsk last time, right after one of the sessions of the third all-russian congress of the soviets. at that session, we reported on the state of the negotiations, and the demands of our opponents. these demands, as you remember, were really no more than masked, or, rather, half-masked annexationist aspirations at the expense of lithuania, courland, a part of livonia, the isles of moon sound, as well as a half-masked demand for a punitive war indemnity which we then estimated would amount to six, eight or even ten milliards of rubles. during interruption of the sessions, which continued for about ten days, a considerable disturbance took place in austria-hungary; strikes of masses of workers broke out, and these strikes were the first recognition of our methods of conducting peace negotiations that we met with from the proletariat of the central empires, as against the annexationist demands of the german militarism. we promised here no miracles but we did say that the road we were pursuing was the only road remaining to the revolutionary democracy for securing the possibility of its further development. there is room for complaint that the proletariat of the other countries, and particularly of the central empires, is too slow to enter the road of open revolutionary struggle, yes, it must be admitted that the pace of its development is all too slow--but, nevertheless, there could be observed a movement in austria-hungary which swept the entire state and which was a direct echo of the brest-litovsk negotiations. leaving for brest-litovsk, it was our common opinion that there was no ground to believe that just this wave would sweep away the austro-german militarism. if we had been convinced that this could be expected, we would gladly have given the promise that several persons demanded from us, namely, that under no circumstances would we sign a separate peace with germany. i said at that very time, that we could not make such a promise, for it would amount to taking upon ourselves the obligation of vanquishing the german militarism. the secret of attaining such a victory was not in our possession. and inasmuch as we would not undertake the obligation to change the balance of the world powers at a moment's notice, we frankly and openly declared that revolutionary power may under certain conditions be compelled to agree to an annexationist peace. a revolutionary power would fall short of its high principles only in the event that it should attempt to conceal from its own people the predatory character of the peace, but by no means, however, in the event that the course of the struggle should compel it to adopt such a peace. at the same time, we indicated that we were leaving to continue negotiations under conditions which were seemingly improving for us and becoming worse for our enemies. we observed the movement in austria-hungary, and there were signs indicating (this was made the basis for statements by representatives of the german social democracy in the reichstag) that germany was on the eve of similar events. we went with this hope. during the first days of this visit to brest-litovsk the wireless brought us from vilna the first news that in berlin an enormous strike movement was developing; this movement as well as that of austria-hungary was directly connected with the course of negotiations in brest. however, as is often the case, by reason of the dialectic of the class struggle, just this conspicuous beginning of the proletarian rising, which surpassed anything germany had ever seen, was bound to push the property classes to a closer consolidation and to greater hostility against the proletariat. the german dominating classes are saturated with a sufficiently strong instinct of self-preservation to understand that concessions in such an exigency as they were in, under the pressure of the masses of their own people--concessions however small--would amount to capitulation before the idea of the revolution. that is why, after the first moment of perplexity and panic, the time when kuehlmann deliberately dragged out the negotiations by minor and formal questions, had passed--as soon as the strikes were disposed of, as soon as he came to the conclusion that for the time being no imminent danger threatened his masters, he again changed front and adopted a tone of unlimited self-confidence and aggression. our negotiations were complicated by the participation of the kiev rada. we called attention to this last time, too. the delegation from the kiev rada appeared at a time when the rada represented a fairly strong organization in the ukraine and when the way out of the war had not yet been predetermined. just at that time, we made the rada an official offer to conclude a definite treaty with us, making as one of the conditions of such a treaty the following demand: that the rada declare kaledin and korniloff to be counter-revolutionists and put no hindrance in the way of our waging war on these two leaders. the delegation from the kiev rada arrived, just when we hoped to reach an understanding with it on these matters. we declared that as long as the people of the ukraine recognized the rada, we considered its independent participation in these negotiations permissible. but with the further development of events in russian territory and in the ukraine, and the more the antagonism between the ukrainian masses and the rada increased, the greater became the rada's readiness to conclude any kind of treaty with the governments of the central empires, and, if need be, to drag german imperialism into the internal affairs of the russian republic, in order to support the rada against the russian revolution. on the th day of february (n. s.) we learned that the peace negotiations carried on behind our backs between the rada and the central powers, had been signed. the th of february happened to be the birthday of leopold of bavaria, and, as is the custom in monarchical countries, the triumphant historical act was timed--with or without the consent of the kiev rada for this festive day. general hoffmann had a salute fired in honor of leopold of bavaria, having previously asked permission to do so of the kiev delegation, since by the treaty of peace brest-litovsk had been ceded to ukraine. events had taken such a turn, however, that at the time general hoffmann was asking permission for a military salute, the kiev rada had but very little territory left outside of brest-litovsk. on the strength of the telegrams we had received from petrograd, we officially made it known to the central powers' delegation that the kiev rada no longer existed, a circumstance which certainly had some bearing on the course of the peace negotiations. we suggested to count czernin that his representatives accompany our officers into ukrainian territory to ascertain whether the kiev rada existed or not. czernin seemed to welcome this suggestion, but when we asked him if this meant that the treaty made with the kiev delegation would not be signed before the return of his own mission, he hesitated and promised to ask kuehlmann about it. having inquired, he sent us an answer in the negative. this was on february th. by the th, they had to sign the treaty. this could not be delayed, not only on account of leopold's birthday, but for a more important reason, which kuehlmann undoubtedly explained to czernin: "if we should send our representatives into the ukraine just now, they might really convince themselves that the rada does not exist; and then we shall have to face a single all-russian delegation which would spoil our prospects in the negotiations."... by the austro-hungarian delegation we were advised to put principle aside and to place the question on a more practical plane. then the german delegation would be disposed to concessions.... it was unthinkable that the germans should decide to continue the war over, say, the moon islands, if you put this demand in concrete form. we replied that we were ready to look into such concessions as their german colleagues were prepared to make. "so far we have been contending for the self-determination of the lithuanians, poles, livonians, letts, esthonians, and other peoples; and on all these issues you have told us that such self-determination is out of the question. now let us see what your plans are in regard to the self-determination of another people--the russians; what designs and plans of a military strategic nature are behind your seizure of the moon islands. for these islands, as an integral part of an independent esthonian republic, or as a possession of the federated russian republic would have only a defensive military importance, while in the hands of germany they would assume offensive significance, menacing the most vital centers of our country, and especially petrograd." but, of course, hoffmann would make no concessions whatsoever. then the hour for reaching a decision had come. we could not declare war, for we were too weak. the army had lost all of its internal ties. in order to save our country, to overcome this disorganization, it was imperative to establish the internal coherence of the toilers. this psychological tie can only be created by constructive work in factory, field and workshop. we had to return the masses of laborers, who had been subjected to great and intense suffering--who had experienced catastrophes in the war--to the fields and factories, where they must find themselves again and get a footing in the labor world, and rebuild internal discipline. this was the only way to save the country, which was now atoning for the sins of czarism and the bourgeoisie. we had to get out of the war and withdraw the army from the slaughter house. nevertheless, we threw this in the face of the german militarism: the peace you are forcing down our throats is a peace of aggression and robbery. we cannot permit you, messrs. diplomats, to say to the german workingmen: "you have characterized our demands as avaricious, as annexationist. but look, under these very demands we have brought you the signature of the russian revolution." yes, we are weak, we cannot fight at present. but we have sufficient revolutionary courage to say that we shall not willingly affix our signature to the treaty which you are writing with the sword on the body of living peoples. we refused to affix our signature. i believe we acted properly, comrades. i do not mean to say, friends, that a german advance upon russia is out of the question. it were too rash to make such an assertion in view of the great strength of the german imperialistic party. but i do believe that the stand we have taken in the matter has rendered it far more difficult for german militarism to advance upon us. what would happen if it should advance? to this there is but one thing to say: if it is possible in our country, a country completely exhausted and in a state of desperation, to raise the spirits of the more revolutionary energetic elements; if a struggle in defence of our revolution and the territory comprised within it is still possible, then this is the case only as a result of our abandoning the war and refusing to sign the peace treaty. the second war and the signing of peace during the first few days following the breaking off of negotiations the german government hesitated, not knowing what course to pursue. the politicians and diplomats evidently thought that the principal objects had been accomplished and that there was no reason for coveting our signatures. the military men were ready, in any event, to break through the lines drawn by the german government at brest-litovsk. professor krigge, the advisor of the german delegation, told a member of our delegation that a german invasion of russia under the existing conditions was out of the question. count mirbach, then at the head of the german missions at petrograd, went to berlin with the assurance that an agreement concerning the exchange of prisoners of war had been satisfactorily reached. but all this did not in the least prevent general hoffmann from declaring on the fifth day after the brest-litovsk negotiations had been broken off--that the armistice was over, antedating the seven-day period from the time of the last brest-litovsk session. it were really out of place to dilate here on the moral indignation caused by this piece of dishonesty. it fits in perfectly with the general state of diplomatic and military morality of the ruling classes. the new german invasion developed under circumstances most fatal for russia. instead of the week's notice agreed upon, we received notice only two days in advance. this circumstance intensified the panic in the army which was already in state of chronic dissolution. resistance was almost unthinkable. the soldiers could not believe that the germans would advance after we had declared the state of war at an end. the panicky retreat paralyzed the will even of such individual detachments as were ready to make a stand. in the workingmen's quarters of petrograd and moscow, the indignation against the treacherous and truly murderous german invasion reached a pitch of greatest intensity. in these alarming days and nights, the workers were ready to enlist in the army by the ten thousand. but the matter of organizing lagged far behind. isolated tenacious detachments full of enthusiasm became convinced themselves of their instability in their first serious clashes with german regulars. this still further lowered the country's spirits. the old army had long ago been hopelessly defeated and was going to pieces, blocking all the roads and byways. the new army, owing to the country's general exhaustion, the fearful disorganization of industries and the means of transportation, was being got together too slowly. distance was the only serious obstacle in the way of the german invasion. the chief attention of the austro-hungarian government was centered on the ukraine. the rada, through its delegation, had appealed to the governments of the central empires for direct military aid against the soviets, which had by that time completely defeated the ukrainians. thus did the petty-bourgeois democracy of the ukraine, in its struggle against the working class and the destitute peasants, voluntarily open the gates to foreign invasion. at the same time, the svinhufvud government was seeking the aid of german bayonets against the finnish proletariat. german militarism, openly and before the whole world, assumed the role of executioner of the peasant and proletarian revolution in russia. in the ranks of our party hot debates were being carried on as to whether or not we should, under these circumstances, yield to the german ultimatum and sign a new treaty, which--and this no one doubted--would include conditions incomparably more onerous than those announced at brest-litovsk. the representatives of the one view held that just now, with the german intervention in the internal war of the russian republic, it was impossible to establish peace for one part of russia and remain passive, while in the south and in the north, german forces would be establishing a regime of bourgeois dictatorship. another view, championed chiefly by lenin, was that every delay, even the briefest breathing spell, would greatly help the internal stabilization and increase the russian powers of resistance. after the whole country and the whole world had come to know of our absolute helplessness against foreign invasion at this time, the conclusion of peace would everywhere be understood as an act forced upon us by the cruel law of disproportionate forces. it would be childish to argue from the standpoint of abstract revolutionary ethics. the point is not to die with honor but to achieve ultimate victory. the russian revolution wants to survive, must survive, and must by every means at its disposal avoid fighting an uneven battle and gain time, in the hope that the western revolutionary movement will come to its aid. german imperialism is still engaged in a fierce annexationist struggle with english and american militarism. only because of this is the conclusion of peace between russia and germany at all possible. we must fully avail ourselves of this situation. the welfare of the revolution is the highest law. we should accept the peace which we are unable to reject; we must secure a breathing spell to be utilized for intensive work within the country and, especially, for the creation of an army. at the conference of the communist party as well as at the fourth conference of the soviet, the peace partisans triumphed. they were joined by many of those who in january considered it impossible to sign the brest-litovsk treaty. "then," said they, "our signature would have been looked upon by the english and french workingmen as a shameful capitulation, without an attempt to fight. even the base insinuations of the anglo-french chauvinists to the secret compact between the soviet government and the germans, might in case that treaty had been signed find credence in certain circles of european laborers. but after we had refused to sign the treaty, after a new german invasion, after our attempt to resist it, and after our military weakness had become painfully obvious to the whole world, after all this, no one dare to reproach us for surrendering without a fight." the brest-litovsk treaty, in its second enlarged edition, was signed and ratified. in the meantime, the executioners were doing their work in finland and the ukraine, menacing more and more the most vital centers of great russia. thus the question of russia's very existence as an independent country is henceforth inseparably connected with the question of the european revolution. conclusion when our party took over the government, we knew in advance what difficulties we had to contend with. economically the country had been exhausted by the war to the very utmost. the revolution had destroyed the old administrative machinery and could not yet create anything to take its place. millions of workers had been wrested from their normal nooks in the national economy of things, declassified, and physically shattered by the three years' war. the colossal war industries, carried on on an inadequately prepared national foundation, had drained all the lifeblood of the people; and their demobilization was attended with extreme difficulties. the phenomena of economic and political anarchy spread throughout the country. the russian peasantry had for centuries been held together by barbarian national discipline from below and iron-czarist rule from above. economic development had undermined the former, the revolution destroyed the latter. psychologically, the revolution meant the awakening of a sense of human personality among the peasantry. the anarchic manifestations of this awakening are but the inevitable results of the preceding oppression. a new order of things, an order based on the workers' own control of industry, can come only through gradual and internal elimination of the anarchic manifestations of the revolution. on the other hand, the propertied classes, even though deprived of political power, will not relinquish their advantages without a fight. the revolution has brought to a head the question of private property in land and the tools of production--that is, the question of vital significance to the exploiting classes. politically this means ceaseless, secret or open civil war. in its turn, civil war inevitably nourishes anarchical tendencies within the workingmen's movement. with the disorganization of industries, of national finances, of the transportation and provisioning systems, prolonged civil strife thus sets up tremendous difficulties in the way of constructive organizing work. nevertheless, the soviet government can look the future in the face with perfect confidence. only a careful inventory of all the country's resources; only a rational organization of industries--an organization born of one general plan; only wise and careful distribution of all the products, can save the country. and this is socialism. either a complete descent to colonial status or a socialist resurrection--these are the alternatives before which our country finds itself. the war has undermined the soil of the entire capitalistic world. herein lies our unconquerable strength. the imperialistic ring that is pressing around us will lie burst asunder by the proletarian revolution. we do not doubt this for a minute, any more than we doubted during our decades of underground struggle the inevitableness of the downfall of czarism. to struggle, to unite our forces, to establish industrial discipline and a socialist regime, to increase the productivity of labor, and to press on in the face of all obstacles--this is our mission. history is working in our favor. the proletarian revolution will flare up, sooner or later, both in europe and america, and will bring emancipation not only to the ukraine, poland, lithuania, courland, and finland, but also to all suffering humanity. russian rambles by isabel f. hapgood author of "the epic songs of russia" boston and new york houghton, mifflin and company to russia and my russian friends i dedicate these notes of my sojourn with them. they may rest assured that, though many of my most cherished experiences are not recorded in these pages, they remain unforgotten, deeply imprinted on my heart. preface. the innumerable questions which have been put to me since my return to america have called to my attention the fact that, in spite of all that has been written about russia, the common incidents of everyday life are not known, or are known so imperfectly that any statement of them is a travesty. i may cite, as an example, a book published within the past two years, and much praised in america by the indiscriminating as a truthful picture of life. the whole story hung upon the great musical talent of the youthful hero. the hero skated to church through the streets, gazed down the long aisle where the worshipers were assembled (presumably in pews), ascended to the organ gallery, sang an impromptu solo with trills and embellishments, was taken in hand by the enraptured organist who had played there for thirty years, and developed into a great composer. omitting a mass of other absurdities scattered through the book, i will criticise this crucial point. there are no organs or organists in russia; there are no pews, or aisles, or galleries for the choir, and there are never any trills or embellishments in the church music. a boy could skate to church in new york more readily than in moscow, where such a thing was never seen, and where they are not educated up to roller skates. lastly, as the church specified, st. vasily, consists of a nest of small churches connected by narrow, labyrinthine corridors, and is approached from the street up two flights of low-ceiled stairs, it is an impossibility that the boy should have viewed the "aisle" and assembled congregation from his skates at the door. that is a fair specimen of the distortions of facts which i am constantly encountering. it has seemed to me that there is room for a book which shall impart an idea of a few of the ordinary conditions of life and of the characters of the inhabitants, illustrated by apposite anecdotes from my personal experience. for this purpose, a collection of detached pictures is better than a continuous narrative of travel. i am told that i must abuse russia, if i wish to be popular in america. why, is more than i or my russian friends can understand. perhaps it arises from the peculiar fact that people find it more interesting to hear bad things of their neighbors than good, and the person who furnishes startling tales is considered better company than the humdrum truth-teller or the charitably disposed. the truth is, that people too frequently go to russia with the deliberate expectation and intention of seeing queer things. that they do frequently contrive to see queer things, i admit. countess x. z., who in appearance and command of the language could not have been distinguished from an englishwoman, related to me a pertinent anecdote when we were discussing this subject. she chanced to travel from st. petersburg to moscow in a compartment of the railway carriage with two americans. the latter told her that they had been much shocked to meet a peasant on the nevsky prospekt, holding in his hand a live chicken, from which he was taking occasional bites, feathers and all. that they saw nothing of the sort is positive; but what they did see which could have been so ingeniously distorted was more than the combined powers of the countess and myself were equal to guessing. the general idea of foreign visitors seems to be that they shall find the russia of the seventeenth century. i am sure that the russia of ivan the terrible's time, a century earlier, would precisely meet their views. they find the reality decidedly tame in comparison, and feel bound to supply the missing spice. a trip to the heart of africa would, i am convinced, approach much nearer to the ideal of "adventure" generally cherished. the traveler to africa and to russia is equally bound to narrate marvels of his "experiences" and of the customs of the natives. but, in order to do justice to any foreign country, the traveler must see people and customs not with the eyes of his body only, but with the eyes of his heart, if he would really understand them. above all things, he must not deliberately buckle on blinders. of no country is this axiom more true than of russia. a man who would see russia clearly must strip himself of all preconceived prejudices of religion, race, and language, and study the people from their own point of view. if he goes about repeating napoleon i.'s famous saying, "scratch a russian and you will find a tatar," he will simply betray his own ignorance of history and facts. in order to understand matters, a knowledge of the language is indispensable in any country. naturally, very few possess this knowledge in russia, where it is most indispensable of all. there are guides, but they are a lottery at best: russians who know very little english, english who know very little russian, or germans who are impartially ignorant of both, and earn their fees by relating fables about the imperial family and things in general, when they are not candidly saying, "i don't know." i saw more or less of that in the case of other people's guides; i had none of my own, though they came to me and begged the privilege of taking me about gratuitously if i would recommend them. i heard of it from russians. an ideal cicerone, one of the attendants in the moscow historical museum, complained to me on this subject, and rewarded me for sparing him the infliction by getting permission to take us to rooms which were not open to the public, where the director himself did the honors for us. sometimes travelers dispense with the guides, as well as with a knowledge of the language, but if they have a talent for pronouncing what are called, i believe, "snap judgments," that does not prevent their fulfilling, on their return home, their tacitly implied duty of uttering in print a final verdict on everything from soup to government. if the traveler be unusually lucky, he may make acquaintance on a steamer with a russian who can talk english, and who can and will give him authentic information. these three conditions are not always united in one person. moreover, a stranger cannot judge whether his russian is a representative man or not, what is his position in the social hierarchy, and what are his opportunities for knowing whereof he speaks. "do you suppose that god, who knows all things, does not know our table of ranks?" asks an arrogant general in one of the old russian comedies. i have no doubt that the lord does know that remarkable jacob's ladder which conducts to the heaven of high public place and the good things of life, and whose every rung is labeled with some appetizing title and privilege. but a newly arrived foreigner cannot know it, or the traditions of the three greater, distinct classes into which the people are divided. russians have become so used to hearing and reading remarkable statements about themselves that they only smile indulgently at each fresh specimen of ill-will or ignorance. they keep themselves posted on what is said of them, and frequently quote choice passages for the amusement of foreigners who know better, but never when they would be forced to condescend to explanation. alexander dumas, senior, once wrote a book on russia, which is a fruitful source of hilarity in that country yet, and a fair sample of such performances. to quote but one illustration,--he described halting to rest under the shade of a great _kliukva_ tree. the _kliukva_ is the tiny russian cranberry, and grows accordingly. another french author quite recently contributed an item of information which russians have adopted as a characteristic bit of ignorance and erected into a standard jest. he asserted that every village in russia has its own gallows, on which it hangs its own criminals off-hand. as the death penalty is practically abolished in russia, except for high treason, which is not tried in villages, the russians are at a loss to explain what the writer can have mistaken for a gallows. there are two "guesses" current as to his meaning: the two uprights and cross-beam of the village swing; or the upright, surmounted by a cross-board, on which is inscribed the number of inhabitants in the village. most people favor the former theory, but consider it a pity that he has not distinctly pointed to the latter by stating that the figures there inscribed represent the number of persons hanged. that would have rendered the tale bloodthirsty, interesting, absolutely perfect,--from a foreign point of view. i have not attempted to analyze the "complicated" national character. indeed, i am not sure that it is complicated. russians of all classes, from the peasant up, possess a naturally simple, sympathetic disposition and manner, as a rule, tinged with a friendly warmth whose influence is felt as soon as one crosses the frontier. shall i be believed if i say that i found it in custom-house officers and gendarmes? for the rest, characters vary quite as much as they do elsewhere. it is a question of individuals, in character and morals, and it is dangerous to indulge in generalizations. my one generalization is that they are, as a nation, too long-suffering and lenient in certain directions, that they allow too much personal independence in certain things. if i succeed in dispelling some of the absurd ideas which are now current about russia, i shall be content. if i win a little comprehension and kindly sympathy for them, i shall be more than content. isabel f. hapgood. new york, january , . contents i. passports, police, and post-office in russia. ii. the nevsky prospekt iii. my experience with the russian censor iv. bargaining in russia v. experiences vi. a russian summer resort vii. a stroll in moscow with count tolstoy viii. count tolstoy at home ix. a russian holy city x. a journey on the volga xi. the russian kumys cure xii. moscow memories xiii. the nizhni-novgorod fair and the volga russian rambles. i. passports, police, and post-office in russia. we imported into russia, untaxed, undiscovered by the custom-house officials, a goodly stock of misadvice, misinformation, apprehensions, and prejudices, like most foreigners, albeit we were unusually well informed, and confident that we were correctly posted on the grand outlines of russian life, at least. we were forced to begin very promptly the involuntary process of getting rid of them. our anxiety began in berlin. we visited the russian consul-general there to get our passports _vised_. he said, "you should have got the signature of the american consul. do that, and return here." at that moment, the door leading from his office to his drawing-room opened, and his wife made her appearance on the threshold, with the emphatic query, "_when_ are you coming?" "immediately, my dear," he replied. "just wait a moment, until i get rid of these americans." then he decided to rid himself of us for good. "i will assume the responsibility for you," he said, affixed his signature on the spot, to spare himself a second visit, and, collecting his fees, bowed us out. i suppose he argued that we should have known the ropes and attended to all details accurately, in order to ward off suspicion, had we been suspicious characters. how could he know that the americans understood russian, and that this plain act of "getting rid" of us would weigh on our minds all the way to the russian frontier? at wirballen the police evoked a throb of gratitude from our relieved hearts. no one seemed to suspect that the american government owned a consul in berlin who could write his name on our huge parchments, which contrasted so strongly with the compact little documents from other lands. "which are your passports?" asked the tall gendarme who guarded the door of the restaurant, as we passed out to take our seats in the russian train. "the biggest," i replied, without mentioning names, and he handed them over with a grin. no fuss over passports or custom-house, though we had carefully provided cause! this was beginning badly, and we were disappointed at our tame experience. on our arrival in st. petersburg, we were not even asked for our passports. curiosity became restless within us. was there some sinister motive in this neglect, after the harrowing tales we had heard from a woman lecturer, and read in books which had actually got themselves printed, about gendarmes forcing themselves into people's rooms while they were dressing, demanding their passports, and setting a guard at their doors; after which, gendarmes in disguises (which they were clever enough to penetrate) followed them all over the country? why was it thus with them, and not with us? the _why_ ripened gradually. we inquired if the passports were not wanted. "no; if you intend to remain only a few days, it is not worth while to register them," was the startling reply; and those wretched, unwieldy parchments remained in our possession, even after we had announced that we did not meditate departing for some time. i hesitate to set down the whole truth about the anxiety they cost us for a while. how many innocent officers, in crack regiments (as we discovered when we learned the uniforms), in search of a breakfast or a dinner, did we not take for the police upon our tracks, in search of those concealed documents! our excitement was ministered to by the tatar waiters, who, not having knowledge of our nationality, mistook us for english people, and wrecked our nerves by making our tea as strong and black as beer, with a view to large "tea-money" for this delicate attention to our insular tastes. if no one wanted those documents, what were _we_ to do with them? wear them as breastplates (folded), or as garments (full size)? no pocket of any sex would tolerate them, and we had been given to understand by veracious (?) travelers that it was as much as our lives were worth to be separated from them for a single moment. at the end of a week we forced the hotel to take charge of them. they were registered, and immediately thrown back on our hands. then we built lean-tos on our petticoats to hold them, and carried them about until they looked aged and crumpled and almost frayed, like ancestral parchments. we even slept with them under our pillows. at last we also were nearly worn out, and we tossed those sindbad passports into a drawer, then into a trunk. there they remained for three months; and when they were demanded, we had to undertake a serious search, so completely had their existence and whereabouts been lost to our lightened spirits. in the mean time we had grasped the elementary fact that they would be required only on a change of domicile. by dint of experience we learned various other facts, which i may as well summarize at once. the legal price of registration is twenty kopeks (about ten cents), the value of the stamp. but hotel and lodging-house keepers never set it down in one's bill at less than double that amount. it often rises to four or five times the legal charge, according to the elegance of the rooms which one occupies, and also according to the daring of the landlord. in one house in moscow, they even tried to make us pay again on leaving. we refused, and as we already had possession of the passports, which, they pretended, required a second registry, they could do nothing. this abuse of overcharging for passport registration on the part of landlords seems to have been general. it became so serious that the argus-eyed prefect of st. petersburg, general gresser (now deceased), issued an order that no more than the law allowed should be exacted from lodgers. i presume, however, that all persons who could not read russian, or who did not chance to notice this regulation, continued to contribute to the pockets of landlords, since human nature is very much alike everywhere, in certain professions. i had no occasion to test the point personally, as the law was issued just previous to my departure from the country. the passport law seems to be interpreted by each man for himself in other respects, also. in some places, we found that we could stay overnight quite informally; at others, our passports were required. once we spent an entire month incognito. at kazan, our balcony commanded a full view of the police department of registry, directly opposite. the landlord sniffed disdainfully at the mention of our passports, and i am sure that we should not have been asked for them at all, had not one of the officials, who chanced to be less wilted by the intense heat than his fellows,--they had been gazing lazily at us, singly and in battalions, in the intervals of their rigorous idleness, for the last four and twenty hours,--suddenly taken a languid interest in us about one hour before our departure. the landlord said he was "simply ridiculous." on another occasion, a waiter in a hotel recognized the russians who were with us as neighbors of his former master in the days of serfdom. he suggested that he would arrange not to have our passports called for at all, since they might be kept overtime, and our departure would thus be delayed, and we be incommoded. only one of our friends had even taken the trouble to bring a "document;" but the whole party spent three days under the protection of this ex-serf. of course, we bespoke his attendance for ourselves, and remembered that little circumstance in his "tea-money." this practice of detaining passports arbitrarily, from which the ex-serf was protecting us, prevails in some localities, judging from the uproar about it in the russian newspapers. it is contrary to the law, and can be resisted by travelers who have time, courage, and determination. it appears to be a device of the landlords at watering places and summer resorts generally, who desire to detain guests. i doubt whether the police have anything to do with it. what we paid the ex-serf for was, practically, protection against his employer. our one experience of this device was coupled with a good deal of amusement, and initiated us into some of the laws of the russian post-office as well. to begin my story intelligibly, i must premise that no russian could ever pronounce or spell our name correctly unaided. a worse name to put on a russian official document, with its _h_ and its double _o_, never was invented! there is no letter _h_ in the russian alphabet, and it is customary to supply the deficiency with the letter _g_, leaving the utterer to his fate as to which of the two legitimate sounds--the foreign or the native--he is to produce. it affords a test of cultivation parallel to that involved in giving a man a knife and fork with a piece of pie, and observing which he uses. that is the american shibboleth. lomonosoff, the famous founder of russian literary language in the last century, wrote a long rhymed strophe, containing a mass of words in which the _g_ occurs legitimately and illegitimately, and wound up by wailing out the query, "who can emerge from the crucial test of pronouncing all these correctly, unimpeached?" that is the russian shibboleth. as a result of this peculiarity, our passports came back from each trip to the police office indorsed with a brand-new version of our name. we figured under gepgud, gapgod, gabgot, and a number of other disguises, all because they persisted in spelling by the eye, and would not accept my perfect phonetic version. the same process applied to the english name wylie has resulted in the manufacture of villie. and the pleasant jest of it all was that we never troubled ourselves to sort our passports, because, although there existed not the slightest family resemblance even between my mother and myself, we looked exactly alike in those veracious mirrors. this explained to our dull comprehension how the stories of people using stolen passports could be true. however, the russians were not to blame for this particular absurdity. it was the fault of the officials in america. on the occasion to which i refer, we had gone out of st. petersburg, and had left a written order for the post-office authorities to forward our mail to our new address. the bank officials, who should certainly have known better, had said that this would be sufficient, and had even prepared the form, on their stamped paper, for our signature. ten days elapsed; no letters came. then the form was returned, with orders to get our signatures certified to by the chief of police or the police captain of our district! when we recovered from our momentary vexation, we perceived that this was an excellent safeguard. i set out for the house of the chief of police. his orderly said he was not at home, but would be there at eleven o'clock. i took a little look into the church,--my infallible receipt for employing spare moments profitably, which has taught me many things. at eleven o'clock the chief was still "not at home." i decided that this was in an "official" sense only, when i caught sight of a woman surveying me cautiously through the crack of the opposite door to the antechamber. i immediately jumped to the conclusion that a woman calling upon a chief of police was regarded as a suspicious character; and rightly, after various shooting incidents in st. petersburg. my suspicions were confirmed by my memory of the fact that i had been told that the prefect of st. petersburg was "not at home" in business hours, though his gray lambskin cap--the only one in town--was lying before me at the time. but i also recollected that when i had made use of that cap as a desk, on which to write my request, to the horror of the orderly, and had gone home, the prefect had sent a gendarme to do what i wanted. accordingly, i told this orderly my business in a loud, clear voice. the crack of the door widened as i proceeded, and at my last word i was invited into the chief's study by the orderly, who had been signaled to. the chief turned out to be a polished and amiable baron, with a german name, who was eager to render any service, but who had never come into collision with that post-office regulation before. i remarked that i regretted not being able to certify to ourselves with our passports, as they had not been returned to us. he declared that the passports were quite unnecessary as a means of identification; my word was sufficient. but he flew into a rage over the detention of the passports. that something decidedly vigorous took place over those papers, and that the landlord of our hotel was to blame, it was easy enough to gather from the meek air and the apologies with which they were handed to us, a couple of hours later. the chief dispatched his orderly on the spot with my post-office petition. during the man's absence, the chief brought in and introduced to me his wife, his children, and his dogs, and showed me over his house and garden. we were on very good terms by the time the orderly returned with the signature of the prefect (who had never seen us) certifying to our signatures, on faith. the baron sealed the petition for me with his biggest coat of arms, and posted it, and the letters came promptly and regularly. thereafter, for the space of our four months' stay in the place, the baron and i saluted when we met. we even exchanged "shakehands," as foreigners call the operation, and the compliments of the day, in church, when the baron escorted royalty. i think he was a lutheran, and went to that church when etiquette did not require his presence at the russian services, where i was always to be found. as, during those four months, i obtained several very special privileges which required the prefect's signature,--as foreigners were by no means common residents there,--and as i had become so well known by sight to most of the police force of the town that they saluted me when i passed, and their dogs wagged their tails at me and begged for a caress, i imagined that i was properly introduced to the authorities, and that they could lay hands upon me at any moment when the necessity for so doing should become apparent. nevertheless, one friend, having applied to the police for my address, spent two whole days in finding me, at haphazard. after a residence of three months, other friends appealed in vain to the police; then obtained from the prefect, who had certified to us, the information that no such persons lived in the town, the only foreigners there being two sisters named genrut! with this lucid clue our friends cleverly found us. those who understand russian script will be able to unravel the process by which we were thus disguised and lost. we had been lost before that in st. petersburg, and we recognized the situation, with variations, at a glance. there is no such thing as a real practical directory in russian cities. when one's passport is _vised_ by the police, the name and information therein set forth are copied on a large sheet of paper, and this document takes its place among many thousand others, on the thick wire files of the address office. i went there once. that was enough in every way. it lingers in my mind as the darkest, dirtiest, worst-ventilated, most depressing place i saw in russia. if one wishes to obtain the address of any person, he goes or sends to this address office, fills out a blank, for which he pays a couple of kopeks, and, after patient waiting for the over-busy officials to search the big files, he receives a written reply, with which he must content himself. the difficulty, in general, about this system lies here: one must know the exact christian name, patronymic, and surname of the person wanted, and how to spell them correctly (according to police lights). one must also know the exact occupation of the person, if he be not a noble living on his income, without business or official position. otherwise, the attempt to find any one is a harder task than finding the proverbial needle in a haystack. a person who had been asked to call upon us, and who afterward became a valued friend, tried three times in vain to find us by this means, and was informed that we did not exist. this was owing to some eccentricity in the official spelling of our name. an application to the american legation, as a desperate final resort, served the purpose at last. the same thing happened when the telegraph messenger tried to find us, to deliver an important cablegram. still, in spite of this experience, i always regarded my passport as an important means of protection. in case of accident, one could be traced by it. a traveler's passport once registered at the police office, the landlord or lodging-house keeper is responsible for the life of his guest. if the landlord have any bandit propensities, this serves as a check upon them, since he is bound to produce the person, or to say what has become of him. in the same way, when one is traveling by imperial post carriage, the postilion must deliver his passenger safe and sound at the next post station, or be promptly arrested. the passport serves here as a sort of waybill for the human freight. when a foreigner's passport is registered for the first time, he receives permission to remain six months in the country. at the expiration of that period, on formal application, a fresh permit is issued, which must be paid for, and which covers one year. this takes the form of a special document, attached to the foreign passport with cord and sealing-wax; and attached to it, in turn, is a penalty for cutting the cord or tampering with the official seal. these acts must be done by the proper officials. i thought it might be interesting to attend to securing this special permit myself instead of sending the _dvornik_ (the yard porter), whose duties comprise as many odds and ends as those of the prime minister of an empire. at the office i was questioned concerning my religion and my occupation, which had not been inquired into previously. the question about religion was a mere formality, as they care nothing for one's creed. i stated, in reply to the last question, that i was merely "a traveler." "don't say that; it's too expensive," returned the official, in a friendly way. "to whom? how?" i asked. "to you, of course. a traveler, as a person of leisure, pays a huge tax." "call me a literary person, then, if you like." "that's not an occupation!" (observe the delicate, unconscious sarcasm of this rejoinder! as a matter of fact, the russian idea of literary men is that they all hold some government or other appointment, on the committee of censorship, for example,--some ratable position. upon this they can depend for a livelihood, aside from the product of their brains; which is practical, and affords a firm foundation upon which to execute caprices.) he suggested various things which i was not, and i declined to accept his suggestions. we got it settled at last, though he shook his head over my extravagant obstinacy in paying two dollars, when i might have got off with half the sum and a lie. he imparted a good deal of amusing information as to the manner in which people deliberately evade the passport tax with false statements; for example, governesses, who would scorn to be treated as nurses, get themselves described as _bonnes_ to save money. i have no doubt that the authorities amiably assist them by friendly suggestions, as in my own case; only i decline to sail under false colors, by the authority of my own government or any other; so his amiability was wasted so far as i was concerned. it would seem to the ordinary reader that the police would be able to lay hands on a man, when he was wanted, with tolerable promptness and accuracy, after all the details which the law requires in these "address tickets," as the local passports are called, had been duly furnished. but i remember one case among several which impressed me as instructive and amusing. the newspapers told the tale, which ran somewhat as follows: a wealthy woman of position, residing in one of the best quarters of st. petersburg, hired a prepossessing young lackey as one of her large staff of domestics. shortly after his advent, many articles of value began to disappear. finally, suspicion having turned on this lackey, he also disappeared, and the police undertook to find him. it then became apparent that the fellow had used a false passport and address, and was not to be found where he was inscribed. he caused an exciting chase. this ended in the discovery of a regular robbers' nest, where a large number of false passports were captured, the prepossessing lackey and his friends having abandoned them in their attempt to escape. the papers were also constantly remarking on the use made by peasant men of their passports. the wife is inscribed on the husband's "document," separate passports for wives being, as a rule, difficult of attainment in the lower classes. the peasants are thus able, and often willing, to control their wives' places of residence and movements, and preserve entire liberty of action for themselves, since their consent is required for the separate passport, or for the wives' movements on the common passport. in such cases the passport does become an instrument of oppression, from either the occidental or the oriental point of view. as for the stories told by travelers of officious meddling by the police on their arrival in russia, and of their footsteps being dogged, i have recently been favored with some light on that subject. i believe the tales, with reservations, since some perfectly innocent and truthful friends of mine related to me their own similar experience. a man, who seemed to their inexperienced eyes to be a police officer, told them that the authorities thought three weeks, one in petersburg and two elsewhere, would be amply sufficient for their travels in russia. they had a high-priced french courier, who pretended to know a little russian. perhaps he did know enough for his own purposes. he told them that they were watched constantly, and translated for the officer. but he did not tell them that they already had permission to remain in the country for the customary six months. i made them get out their passports, and showed them the official stamp and signature to that effect. this clever courier afterward stole from them, in warsaw, a quantity of diamonds which he had helped them to purchase in moscow, and of whose existence and whereabouts in their trunks no one but himself was aware. this helped me to an explanation. it is invariably the couriers or guides, i find, who tell travelers these alarming tales, and neglect to inform them of their rights. it certainly looks very much as if some confederate of theirs impersonates a police official, and as if they misinterpret. the stories of spies forever in attendance seem to be manufactured for the purpose of extorting handsome gratuities from their victims for their "protection," and for the purpose of frightening the latter out of the country before their own ignorance is discovered. as i never employed the guides, i never had any trouble with the police, either genuine or manufactured. i visited the police stations whenever i could make an excuse; and when i wished to know when and where the emperor was to be seen, i asked a policeman or a gendarme. he always told me the exact truth unhesitatingly, and pointed out the best position. it was refreshing after the german police, who put one through the inquisition as to one's self and one's ancestors as soon as one arrives, and who prove themselves lineal descendants of ananias or baron munchausen when a traveler asks for information. when we wished to leave the country, i again usurped the _dvornik's_ duties, and paid another visit to the passport office, to inspect its workings. our russian passports were clipped out, and little books were given us, which constituted our permission to leave russia at any time within the next three months, by any route we pleased, without further ceremony. these booklets contained information relating to the tax imposed on russians for absenting themselves from their country for various periods, the custom-house regulations which forbid the entry, duty free, of more than one fur cloak, cap, and muff to each person, etc., since these books form return passports for russians, though we surrendered ours at the frontier. as the hotel clerk or porter attends to all passport details, few foreigners see the inside of the office, or hear the catechisms which are conducted there, as i did. it is vulgar, it smacks of commercial life, to go one's self. apathy and lack of interest can always be relied upon to brand one as aristocratic. in this case, however, as in many others, i considered myself repaid for following poor richard's advice: "if you want a thing done, do it yourself; if not, send!" to sum up the passport question: if his passport is in order, the traveler need never entertain the slightest apprehension for a single moment, despite sensational tales to the contrary, and it will serve as a safeguard. if, for any good reason, his passport cannot be put in order, the traveler will do well to keep out of russia, or any other country which requires such documents. in truth, although we do not require them in this country, america would be better off if all people who cannot undergo a passport scrutiny, and a german, not a russian, passport examination, were excluded from it. i have mentioned the post-office in connection with our passports. subsequently, i had several entertaining interviews with the police and others on that point. one sunday afternoon, in moscow, we went to the police station of our quarter to get our change-of-address petition to the post-office authorities signed. there was nothing of interest about the shabby building or the rooms, on this occasion. the single officer on duty informed us that he was empowered to attend only to cases of drunkenness, breaches of the peace, and the like. we must return on monday, he declared. "no," said i. "why make us waste all that time in beautiful moscow? here are our passports to identify us. will you please to tell the captain, as soon as he arrives to-morrow morning, that we are genuine, and request him to sign this petition and post it?" the officer courteously declined to look at the passports, said that my word was sufficient, and accepted my commission. then, rising, drawing himself up, with the heels of his high wrinkled boots in regulation contact, and the scarlet pipings of his baggy green trousers and tight coat bristling with martial etiquette, he made me a profound bow, hand on heart, and said: "madam, accept the thanks of russia for the high honor you have done her in learning her difficult language!" i accepted russia's thanks with due pomp, and hastened into the street. that small, low-roofed station house seemed to be getting too contracted to contain all of us and etiquette. again, upon another occasion, also in moscow, it struck us that it would be a happy idea and a clever economy of time to get ourselves certified to before our departure, instead of after our arrival in st. petersburg. accordingly, we betook ourselves, in a violent snowstorm, to the police station inside the walls of the old city, as we had changed our hotel, and that was now our quarter. a vision of cells; of unconfined prisoners tranquilly executing hasty repairs on their clothing, with twine or something similar, in the anteroom; of a complete police hierarchy, running through all the gradations of pattern in gold and silver embroidery to the plain uniform of the roundsman, gladdened our sight while we waited. a gorgeous silver-laced official finally certified our identity, as usual without other proof than our statement, and, clapping a five-kopek stamp on our paper, bowed us out. i had never seen a stamp on such a document before, and had never been asked to pay anything; but i restrained my natural eagerness to reimburse the government and ask questions, with the idea that it might have been a purely mechanical action on the part of the officer, and in the hope of developments. they came. a couple of hours later, a messenger entered our room at the hotel, without knocking, in russian lower-class style, and demanded thirty kopeks for the signature. i offered to pay for the stamp on the spot, and supply the remaining twenty-five kopeks when furnished with an adequate reason therefor. "is the captain's signature worth so much?" i asked. "that is very little," was the answer. "so it is. is the captain's signature worth so little? tell me why." he could not, or would not. i made him wait while i wrote a petition to the police. the burden of it was: "why? i was born an american and curious; not too curious, but just curious enough to be interested in the ethnographical and psychological problems of foreign lands. why the twenty-five kopeks? it is plainly too little or too much. why?" the messenger accepted the five kopeks for the stamp, and set out to deliver the document. but he returned after a moment, and said that he would intrust the five kopeks to my safe-keeping until he brought the answer to my document,--which he had had just sufficient time to read, by the way. that was the last i ever heard of him or of it, and i was forced to conclude that some thirsty soul had been in quest of "tea-money" for _vodka_. i am still in debt to the russian government for five kopeks. the last time i arrived in petersburg, i tried a new plan. instead of making a trip of a couple of miles to get the signature of our police captain, or sending the petition at the languid convenience of the overworked _dvornik_, i went to the general post-office, which was close by, and made a personal request that my mail matter be delivered at my new address. the proper official, whom i found after a search through most of the building, during which i observed their methods, declared that my request was illegal, and ordered me to go for the customary signature. but by this time i had learned that the mere threat to make russian officials inspect my passport was productive of much the same effect as drawing a pistol on them would have had. it was not in the least necessary to have the document with me; going through the motions was easier, and quite as good. every man of them flushed up, and repelled the suggestion as a sort of personal insult; but they invariably came to terms on the spot. accordingly, i tried it here. this particular man, when i pretended to draw my "open sesame" spell from my pocket, instantly dropped his official air, asked me to write my name, with quite a human, friendly manner, and then remarked, with a very every-day laugh, "that is sufficient. i have seen so much of it on your previous petitions that i can swear to it myself much better than the police captain could." as an offset to my anecdotes about our being lost through inability to riddle out our name on the part of the police, i must relate an instance where the post-office displayed remarkable powers of divination. one day i received an official notification from the post-office that there was a misdirected parcel for me from moscow, lying in the proper office,-- would i please to call for it? i called. the address on the parcel was "madame argot," i was informed, but i must get myself certified to before i could receive it. "but how am i to do that? i am not madame argot. are you sure the parcel is for me?" "perfectly. it's your affair to get the certificate." i went to the police station, one which i had not visited before, and stated the case. "go home and send the _dvornik_, as is proper," replied the captain loftily. i argued the matter, after my usual fashion, and at last he affixed his signature to my document, with the encouraging remark: "well, even with this you won't get that parcel, because the name is not yours." "trust me for that," i retorted. "as they are clever enough to know that it is for me, they will be clever enough to give it to me, or i will persuade them that they are." back i went to the post-office. i had never been in that department previously, i may mention. then i was shown a box, and asked if i expected it, and from whom it came. i asserted utter ignorance; but, as i took it in my hand, i heard a rattling, and it suddenly flashed across my mind that it might be the proofs of some photographs which the moscow artist had "hurried" through in one month. the amiable post-office "blindman," who had riddled out the address, was quite willing to give me the parcel without further ado, but i said:-- "open it, and you will soon see whether it really belongs to me." after much protestation he did so, and then we exchanged lavish compliments,--he on the capital likenesses and the skill of the artist; i on the stupidity of the man who could evolve argot out of my legibly engraved visiting-card, and on the cleverness of the man who could translate that name back into its original form. the most prominent instance of minute thoughtfulness and care on the part of the post-office officials which came under my notice occurred in the depths of the country. i sent a letter with a ten-kopek stamp on it to the post town, twelve versts distant. foreign postage had been raised from seven to ten kopeks, and stamps, in a new design, of the latter denomination (hitherto non-existent) had been in use for about four months. the country postmaster, who had seen nothing but the old issues, carefully removed my stamp and sent it back to me, replacing it with a seven-kopek stamp and a three-kopek stamp. i felt, for a moment, as though i had been both highly complimented and gently rebuked for my remarkable skill in counterfeiting! as a parallel case, i may add that there were plenty of intelligent people in new york city and elsewhere who were not aware that the united states still issued three-cent stamps, or who could tell the color of them, until the columbian set appeared to attract their attention. ii. the nevsky prospekt. the nevsky prospekt! from the time when, as children, we first encounter the words, in geographical compilations disguised as books of travel, what visions do they not summon up! visions of the realm of the frost king and of his regent, the white tzar, as fantastic as any of those narrated of tropic climes by scheherezade, and with which we are far more familiar than we are with the history of our native land. when we attain to the reality of our visions, in point of locality at least, we find a definite starting-point ready to our hand, where veracious legend and more veracious history are satisfactorily blended. it is at the eastern extremity of the famous broad avenue,--which is the meaning of prospekt. here, on the bank of the neva, tradition alleges that alexander, prince of novgorod, won his great battle--and, incidentally, his surname of nevsky and his post of patron saint of russia--over the united forces of the swedes and oppressive knights of the teutonic order, in the year . nearly five hundred years later, the spot was occupied by rhitiowa, one of the forty finnish villages scattered over the present site of st. petersburg, as designated by the maps of the swedes, whom peter the great--practically russia's second patron saint--expelled anew when he captured their thriving commercial town, on the shore of the neva, directly opposite, now known as malaya okhta, possessed of extensive foreign trade, and of a church older than the capital, which recently celebrated its two-hundredth anniversary. it was in that peter i. named the place "victory," in honor of prince-saint alexander nevsky's conquest, and commanded the erection of a lavra, or first-class monastery, the seat of a metropolitan and of a theological seminary. by the monastery was completed, in wood, as engravings of that day show us, but in a very different form from the complex of stone buildings of the present day. its principal facade, with extensive, stiffly arranged gardens, faced upon the river,--the only means of communication in that town, planted on a bog, threaded with marshy streams, being by boat. in fact, for a long time horses were so scarce in the infant capital, where reindeer were used in sledges even as late as the end of the last century, that no one was permitted to come to court, during peter the great's reign, otherwise than by water. necessity and the enforced cultivation of aquatic habits in his inland subjects, which the enterprising emperor had so much at heart, combined to counsel this regulation. the bones of prince alexander were brought to st. petersburg, from their resting-place in the vladimir government, in , peter the great occupying his favorite post as pilot and steersman in the saint's state barge, and they now repose in the monastery cathedral, under a canopy, and in a tomb of silver, pounds in weight, given by peter's daughter, the devout empress elizabeth. in the cemetery surrounding the cathedral, under the fragrant firs and birches, with the blue neva rippling far below, lie many of the men who have contributed to the advancement of their country in literature, art, and science, during the last two centuries. of all the historical memories connected with this monastery none is more curious than that relating to the second funeral of peter iii. he had been buried by his wife, in , with much simplicity, in one of the many churches of the lavra, which contains the family tombs and monuments not only of members of the imperial family, but of the noble families most illustrious in the eighteenth century. when paul i. came to the throne, in , his first care was to give his long-deceased father a more fitting burial. the body was exhumed. surrounded by his court, pavel petrovitch took the imperial crown from the altar, placed it on his own head, then laid it reverently on his father's coffin. when peter iii. was transferred immediately afterward, with magnificent ceremonial, to the winter palace, there to lie in state by the side of his wife, katherine ii., and to accompany her to his proper resting-place among the sovereigns of russia, in the cathedral of the peter-paul fortress, count alexei grigorevitch orloff was appointed, with fine irony, to carry the crown before his former master, whom he had betrayed, and in the necessity for whose first funeral he had played the part of fate. it was with considerable difficulty that he was hunted up, while emperor and pageant waited, in the obscure corner where he was sobbing and weeping; and with still greater difficulty was he finally persuaded to perform the task assigned to him in the procession. outside the vast monastery, which, like most russian monasteries, resembles a fortress, though, unlike most of them, it has never served as such, the scene is almost rural. pigeons, those symbols of the holy ghost, inviolable in russia, attack with impunity the grain bags in the acres of storehouses opposite, pick holes, and eat their fill undisturbed. from this spot to the slight curve in the prospekt, at the znamenskaya square, a distance of about a mile, where the moscow railway station is situated, and where the train of steam tram-cars is superseded by less terrifying horse-cars, the whole aspect of the avenue is that of a provincial town, in the character of the people and the buildings, even to the favorite crushed strawberry and azure washes, and green iron roofs on the countrified shops. here and there, not very far away, a log-house may even be espied. during the next three quarters of a mile the houses and shops are more city-like, and, being newer than those beyond, are more ornamented as to the stucco of their windows and doors. here, as elsewhere in this stoneless land, with rare exceptions, the buildings are of brick or rubble, stuccoed and washed, generally in light yellow, with walls three feet or more apart, warmly filled in, and ventilated through the hermetically sealed windows by ample panes in the centre of the sashes, or by apertures in the string-courses between stories, which open into each room. shops below, apartments above, this is the nearly invariable rule. it is only when we reach the anitchkoff bridge, with its graceful railing of sea-horses, adorned with four colossal bronze groups of horse-tamers, from the hand of the russian sculptor, baron klodt, that the really characteristic part of the nevsky begins. it is difficult to believe that fifty years ago this spot was the end of the petersburg world. but at that epoch the nevsky was decorated with rows of fine large trees, which have now disappeared to the last twig. the fontanka river, or canal, over which we stand, offers the best of the many illustrations of the manner in which peter the great, with his ardent love of water and dutch ways, and his worthy successors have turned natural disadvantages into advantages and objects of beauty. the fontanka was the largest of the numerous marshy rivers in that arctic bog selected by peter i. for his new capital, which have been deepened, widened, faced with cut granite walls, and utilized as means of cheap communication between distant parts of the city, and as relief channels for the inundating waves of the gulf of finland, which rise, more or less, every year, from august to november, at the behest of the southwest gale. that this last precaution is not superfluous is shown by the iron flood-mark set into the wall of the anitchkoff palace, on the southern shore of the fontanka, as on so many other public buildings in the city, with " " appended,--the date of one celebrated and disastrous inundation which attained in some places the height of thirteen feet and seven inches. this particular river derived its name from the fact that it was trained to carry water and feed the fountains in peter the great's favorite summer garden, of which only one now remains. at the close of the last century, and even later, persons out of favor at court, or nobles who had committed misdemeanors, were banished to the southern shores of the fontanka, as to a foreign land. among the amusements at the _datchas_,--the wooden country houses,--in the wilder recesses of the vast parks which studded both shores, the chase after wild animals, and from bandits, played a prominent part. the stretch which we have traversed on our way from the monastery, and which is punctuated at the corner of the canal and the prospekt by the pleasing brick and granite palace of the emperor's brother, grand duke sergiei alexandrovitch, which formerly belonged to prince byeloselsky-byelozersky, was the suburb belonging to lieutenant-colonel anitchkoff, who built the first bridge, of wood, in . as late as the reign of alexander i., all persons entering the town were required to inscribe their names in the register kept at the barrier placed at this bridge. some roguish fellows having conspired to cast ridicule on this custom, by writing absurd names, the guards were instructed to make an example of the next jester whose name should strike them as suspicious. fate willed that the imperial comptroller, baltazar baltazarovitch kampenhausen, with his russianized german name, should fall a victim to this order, and he was detained until his fantastic cognomen, so harsh to slavic ears, could be investigated. by day or by night, in winter or summer, it is a pure delight to stand on the anitchkoff bridge and survey the scene on either hand. if we gaze to the north toward what is one of the oldest parts settled on the rivulet-riddled so-called "mainland," in this northern venice, we see the long, plain facade of the katherine institute for the education of the daughters of officers, originally built by peter the great for his daughter anna, as the "italian palace," but used only for the palace servants, until it was built over and converted to its present purpose. beyond, we catch a glimpse of the yellow wings of count scheremetieff's ancient house and its great iron railing, behind which, in a spacious courtyard, after the moscow fashion so rare in thrifty petersburg, the main building lies invisible to us. if we look to the south, we find the long ochre mass of the anitchkoff palace, facing on the nevsky, upon the right shore; on the left, beyond the palace of sergiei alexandrovitch, the branch of the alexander nevsky monastery, in old russian style, with highly colored saints and heads of seraphim on the outer walls; and a perspective of light, stuccoed building,--dwellings, markets, churches,--until the eye halts with pleasure on the distant blue dome of the troitzky cathedral, studded with golden stars. indeed, it is difficult to discover a vista in st. petersburg which does not charm us with a glimpse of one or more of these cross-crowned domes, floating, bubble-like, in the pale azure of the sky. though they are far from being as beautiful in form or coloring as those of moscow, they satisfy us at the moment. if it is on a winter night that we take up our stand here, we may catch a distant glimpse of the numerous "skating-gardens," laid out upon the ice cleared on the snowy surface of the canal. the ice-hills will be black with forms flitting swiftly down the shining roads on sledges or skates, illuminated by the electric light; a band will be braying blithely, regardless of the piercing cold, and the skaters will dance on, in their fancy-dress ball or prize races, or otherwise, clad so thinly as to amaze the shivering foreigner as he hugs his furs. by day the teamsters stand upon the quay, with rough aprons over their ballet-skirted sheepskin coats, waiting for a job. if we hire one of them, we shall find that they all belong to the ancient russian artel, or labor union, which prevents competition beyond a certain point. when the price has been fixed, after due and inevitable chaffering, one _lomovoi_ grasps his shapeless cap by its worn edge of fur, bites a kopek, and drops it in. each of the other men contributes a marked copper likewise, and we are invited to draw lots, in full view, to determine which of them shall have the job. the master of the artel sees to it that there is fair play on both sides. if an unruly member presumes to intervene with a lower bid, with the object of monopolizing the job out of turn, he is promptly squelched, and, though his bid may be allowed to stand, the man whose kopek we have drawn must do the work. the winner chee-ee-eeps to his little horse, whose shaggy mane has been tangled by the loving hand of the _domovoi_ (house-sprite) and hangs to his knees. the patient beast, which, like all russian horses, is never covered, no matter how severe the weather may be, or how hot he may be from exercise, rouses himself from his real or simulated slumber, and takes up the burden of life again, handicapped by the huge wooden arch, gayly painted in flowers and initials, which joins his shafts, and does stout service despite his sorry aspect. but the early summer is the season when the fontanka is to be seen in its most characteristic state. the brilliant blue water sparkles under the hot sun, or adds one more tint to the exquisite hues which make of the sky one vast, gleaming fire-opal on those marvelous "white nights" when darkness never descends to a depth beyond the point where it leaves all objects with natural forms and colors, and only spiritualizes them with the gentle vagueness of a translucent veil. small steamers, manned by wooden-faced, blond finns, connect the unfashionable suburban quarters, lying near the canal's entrance into the neva on the west, with the fashionable court quarter on the northern quays at its other entrance into the neva, seven versts away. they dart about like sea-gulls, picking their path, not unfraught with serious danger, among the obstructions. the obstructions are many: washing-house boats (it is a good old unexploded theory in petersburg that clothes are clean only when rinsed in running water, even though our eyes and noses inform us, unaided by chart, where the drainage goes); little flotillas of dingy flat-boats, anchored around the "fish-gardens," and containing the latter's stock in trade, where persons of taste pick their second dinner-course out of the flopping inmates of a temporary scoop-net; huge, unwieldy, wood barks, put together with wooden pegs, and steered with long, clumsy rudders, which the poor peasants have painfully poled --tramp, tramp, tramp, along the sides--through four hundred miles of tortuous waterways from that province of the former haughty republic, "lord novgorod the great," where prince rurik ruled and laid the foundations of the present imperial empire, and whence came prince-saint alexander, to win his surname of nevsky, as we have seen, at the spot where his monastery stands, a couple of miles, at most, away. the boatmen, who have trundled all day long their quaint little barrows over the narrow iron rails into the spacious inner courtyards of the houses on the quay, and have piled up their wood for winter fuel, or loaded it into the carts for less accessible buildings, now sit on the stern of their barks, over their coarse food,--sour black bread, boiled buckwheat groats, and salted cucumbers,--doffing their hats and crossing themselves reverently before and after their simple meal, and chatting until the red glow of sunset in the north flickers up to the zenith in waves of sea-green, lilac, and amber, and descends again in the north, at the pearl pink of dawn. sleep is a lost art with these men, as with all classes of people, during those nerve-destroying "white nights." when all the silvery satin of the birch logs has been removed from their capacious holds, these primitive barks will be unpegged, and the cheap "bark-wood," riddled with holes as by a _mitrailleuse_, will be used for poor structures on the outskirts of the town. on the upper shore of this river, second only to the neva in its perennial fascination, and facing on the prospekt, stands the anitchkoff palace, on the site of a former lumber-yard, which was purchased by the empress elizabeth, when she commissioned her favorite architect, rastrelli, to erect for count razumovsky a palace in that rococo style which he used in so many palaces and churches during her reign and that of katherine ii.,--the rococo style being, by the way, quite the most unsuited discoverable for russian churches. count alexei grigorevitch razumovsky was the empress elizabeth's husband, the uneducated but handsome son of a plain kazak from little russia, who attracted the attention of elizaveta petrovna as his sweet voice rang out in the imperial choir, at mass, in her palace church. when the palace was completed, in , it did not differ materially from its present appearance, as a painting in the winter palace shows, except that its colonnade, now inclosed for the imperial chancellery and offices, then abutted directly on the fontanka. it has had a very varied ownership, with some curious features in that connection which remind one of a gigantic game of ball between katherine ii. and prince potemkin. count razumovsky did not live in it until after the empress elizabeth's death, in . after his own death, his brother sold it to the state, and katherine ii. presented it to prince potemkin, who promptly resold it to a wealthy merchant-contractor in the commissariat department of the army, who in turn sold it to katherine ii., who gave it once more to potemkin. the prince never lived here, but gave sumptuous garden parties in the vast park, which is now in great part built over, and sold it back to the state again in . it was first occupied by royalty in , when the emperor alexander i. settled his sister here, with her first husband,--that prince of oldenburg whose territory in germany napoleon i. so summarily annexed a few years later, thereby converting the oldenburgs permanently into russian princes. the grand duke heir nicholas used it from until he ascended the throne, in , and since that time it has been considered the palace of the heir to the throne. but the present emperor has continued to occupy it since his accession, preferring its simplicity to the magnificence of the winter palace. the high walls, of that reddish-yellow hue, like the palace itself, which is usually devoted to government buildings in russia, continue the line of offices along the prospekt, and surround wooded gardens, where the emperor and his family coast, skate, and enjoy their winter pleasures, invisible to the eyes of passers-by. these woods and walls also form the eastern boundary of the alexandra square, in whose centre rises mikeshin and opekushin's fine colossal bronze statue of katherine ii., crowned, sceptred, in imperial robes, and with the men who made her reign illustrious grouped about her feet. among these representatives of the army, navy, literature, science, art, there is one woman,--that dashing princess elizaveta romanovna dashkoff, who helped katherine to her throne. as empress, katherine appointed her to be first president of the newly founded academy of sciences, but afterward withdrew her favor, and condemned her to both polite and impolite exile,--because of her services, the princess hints, in her celebrated and very lively "memoirs." in the alexandra theatre, for russian and german drama, which rears its new ( ) corinthian peristyle and its bronze quadriga behind the great empress, forming the background of the square, two of the empress's dramas still hold the stage, on occasion. for this busy and energetic woman not only edited and published a newspaper, the greater part of which she wrote with her own hand, but composed numerous comedies and comic operas, where the moral, though sufficiently obvious all the way through, one would have thought, in the good old style is neatly labeled at the end. these were acted first in the private theatres of the various palaces, by the dames and cavaliers of the court, after which professional actors presented them to the public in the ordinary theatres. it is in vain that we scrutinize the chubby-cheeked countenance of the bronze prince potemkin, at katherine ii.'s feet, to discover the secret of the charm which made the imperial lady who towers above him force upon him so often the ground upon which they both now stand. he stares stolidly at the prospekt, ignoring not only the theatre, but the vast structures containing the direction of theatres and prisons, the censor's office, theatrical school, and other government offices in the background; the new building for shops and apartments, where ancient russian forms have been adapted to modern street purposes; and even the wonderfully rich imperial public library, begun in , to contain the books brought from warsaw, with its corinthian peristyle interspersed with bronze statues of ancient sages, on the garden side,--all of which stand upon the scene of his former garden parties, as the name of the avenue beyond the plain end of the library on the prospekt--great garden street--reminds us. not far away is the site of the tunnel dug under the prospekt by the revolutionists, which, however, was fortunately discovered in time to prevent the destruction of one of the fairest parts of the city, and its most valuable buildings. with the next block we enter upon the liveliest, the most characteristic portion of the nevsky prospekt, in that scant fraction over a mile which is left to us above the anitchkoff bridge. here stands the vast bazaar known as the _gostinny dvor_,--"guests' court,"--a name which dates from the epoch when a wealthy merchant engaged in foreign trade, and owning his own ships, was distinguished from the lesser sort by the title of "guest," which we find in the ancient epic songs of russia. its frontage of seven hundred feet on the prospekt, and one thousand and fifty on great garden and the next parallel street, prepare us to believe that it may really contain more than five hundred shops in the two stories, the lower surrounded by a vaulted arcade supporting an open gallery, which is invaluable for decorative purposes at easter and on imperial festival days. erected in , very much in its present shape, the one common throughout the country, on what had been an impassable morass a short time before, and where the ground still quakes at dawn, it may not contain the largest and best shops in town, and its merchants certainly are not "guests" in the ancient acceptation of the word; but we may claim, nevertheless, that it presents a compendium of most purchasable articles extant, from _samovari_, furs, and military goods, to books, sacred images, and moscow imitations of parisian novelties at remarkably low prices, as well as the originals. the nooks and spaces of the arcade, especially at the corners and centre, are occupied by booths of cheap wares. the sacred image, indispensable to a russian shop, is painted on the vaulted ceiling; the shrine lamp flickers in the open air, thus serving many aproned, homespun and sheepskin clad dealers. the throng of promenaders here is always varied and interesting. the practiced eye distinguishes infinite shades of difference in wealth, social standing, and other conditions. the lady in the velvet _shuba_, lined with sable or black fox, her soft velvet cap edged with costly otter, her head wrapped in a fleecy knitted shawl of goat's-down from the steppes of orenburg, or pointed hood-- the _bashlyk_--of woven goat's-down from the caucasus, has driven hither in her sledge or carriage, and has alighted to gratify the curiosity of her sons. we know at a glance whether the lads belong in the aristocratic pages' corps, on great garden street, hard by, in the university, the law school, the lyceum, or the gymnasium, and we can make a shrewd guess at their future professions by their faces as well as by their uniforms. the lady who comes to meet us in sleeved pelisse, wadded with eider-down, and the one in a short jacket have arrived, and must return, on foot; they could not drive far in the open air, so thinly clad. at christmas-tide there is a great augmentation in the queer "vyazemsky" and other cakes, the peasant laces, sweet vyborg cracknels, fruit pastils, and other popular goods, on which these petty open-air dealers appear to thrive, both in health and purse. the spacious area between the bazaar and the sidewalk of the nevsky is filled with christmas-trees, beautifully unadorned, or ruined with misplaced gaudiness, brought in, in the majority of cases, by finns from the surrounding country. again, in the week preceding palm sunday, the _verbnaya yarmaraka_, or pussy willow fair, takes place here. nominally, it is held for the purpose of providing the public with twigs of that aesthetic plant (the only one which shows a vestige of life at that season), which are used as palms, from the emperor's palace to the poorest church in the land. in reality, it is a most amusing fair for toys and cheap goods suitable for easter eggs; gay paper roses, wherewith to adorn the easter cake; and that combination of sour and sweet cream and other forbidden delicacies, the _paskha_, with which the long, severe fast is to be broken, after midnight matins on easter. here are plump little red finland parrots, green and red finches, and other song-birds, which kindly people buy and set free, after a pretty custom. the board and canvas booths, the sites for which are drawn by lot by soldiers' widows, and sold or used as suits their convenience, are locked at night by dropping the canvas flap, and are never guarded; while the hint that thefts may be committed, or that watching is necessary, is repelled with indignation by the stall-keepers. there is always a popular toy of the hour. one year it consisted of highly colored, beautifully made bottle-imps, which were loudly cried as _amerikanskiya zhiteli_,--inhabitants of america. we inquired the reason for their name. "they are made in the exact image of the americans," explained the peasant vendor, offering a pale blue imp, with a long, red tongue and a phenomenal tail, for our admiration. "we are inhabitants of america. is the likeness very strong?" we asked. the crowd tittered softly; the man looked frightened; but finding that no dire fate threatened, he was soon vociferating again, with a roguish grin:-- "_kupiti, kupi-i-iti! prevoskhodniya amerikanskiya zhiteli! sa-a-miya nastoyashtschiya!_"--buy, buy, splendid natives of america! the most genuine sort! far behind this gostinny dvor extends a complex mass of other curious "courts" and markets, all worthy of a visit for the popular types which they afford of the lower classes. among them all none is more steadily and diversely interesting, at all seasons of the year, than the _syennaya ploshtschad_,--the haymarket,--so called from its use in days long gone by. here, in the fish market, is the great repository for the frozen food which is so necessary in a land where the church exacts a sum total of over four months' fasting out of the twelve. here the fish lie piled like cordwood, or overflow from casks, for economical buyers. merchants' wives, with heads enveloped in colored kerchiefs, in the olden style, well tucked in at the neck of their _salopi_, or sleeved fur coats, prowl in search of bargains. here sit the fishermen from the distant murman coast, from arkhangel, with weather-beaten but intelligent faces, in their quaint skull-caps of reindeer hide, and baggy, shapeless garments of mysterious skins, presiding over the wares which they have risked their lives to catch in the stormy arctic seas, during the long days of the brief summer-time; codfish dried and curled into gray unrecognizableness; yellow caviar which resists the teeth like tiny balls of gutta-percha,--not the delicious gray "pearl" caviar of the sturgeon,--and other marine food which is never seen on the rich man's table. but we must return to the nevsky prospekt. nestling at the foot of the city hall, at the entrance of the broad street between it and the gostinny dvor, on the nevsky, stands a tiny chapel, which is as thriving as the bazaar, in its own way, and as striking a compendium of some features in russian architecture and life. outside hangs a large image of the "saviour-not-made-with-hands,"--the russian name for the sacred imprint on st. veronica's handkerchief,--which is the most popular of all the representations of christ in _ikoni_. before it burns the usual "unquenchable lamp," filled with the obligatory pure olive-oil. beneath it stands a table bearing a large bowl of consecrated water. on hot summer days the thirsty wayfarer takes a sip, using the ancient russian _kovsh_, or short-handled ladle, which lies beside it, crosses himself, and drops a small offering on the dish piled with copper coins near by, making change for himself if he has not the exact sum which he wishes to give. inside, many _ikoni_ decorate the walls. the pale flames of their shrine-lamps are supplemented by masses of candles in the huge standing candlesticks of silver. a black-robed monk from the monastery is engaged, almost without cessation, in intoning prayers of various sorts, before one or another of the images. the little chapel is thronged; there is barely room for respectfully flourished crosses, such as the peasant loves, often only for the more circumscribed sign current among the upper classes, and none at all for the favorite "ground reverences." the approach to the door is lined with two files of monks and nuns: monks in high _klobuki_, like rimless chimney-pot hats, draped with black woolen veils, which are always becoming; _tchernitzi_, or lay sisters, from distant convents, in similar headgear, in caps flat or pointed like the small end of a watermelon, and with ears protected by black woolen shawls ungracefully pinned. serviceable man's boots do more than peep out from beneath the short, rusty-black skirts. each monk and nun holds a small pad of threadbare black velvet, whereon a cross of tarnished gold braid, and a stray copper or two, by way of bait, explain the eleemosynary significance of the bearers' "broad" crosses, dizzy "reverences to the girdle," and muttered entreaty, of which we catch only: "_khristi radi_"--for christ's sake. people of all classes turn in here for a moment of prayer, to "place a candle" to some saint, for the health, in body or soul, of friend or relative: the workman, his tools on his back in a coarse linen kit; the bearded _muzhik_ from the country, clad in his sheepskin _tulup_, wool inward, the soiled yellow leather outside set off by a gay sash; ladies, officers, civilians,--the stream never ceases. the only striking feature about the next building of importance, the _gradskaya duma_, or city hall, is the lofty tower, upon whose balcony, high in air, guards pace incessantly, on the watch for fires. by day they telegraph the locality of disaster to the fire department by means of black balls and white boards, in fixed combinations; by night, with colored lanterns. each section of the city has a signal-tower of this sort, and the engine-house is close at hand. gradskaya duma means, literally, city thought, and the profundity of the meditations sometimes indulged in in this building, otherwise not remarkable, may be inferred from the fact discovered a few years ago, that many honored members of the duma (which also signifies the council of city fathers), whose names still stood on the roll, were dead, though they continued to vote and exercise their other civic functions with exemplary regularity! naturally, in a city which lies on a level with the southern point of greenland, the most characteristic season to select for our observations of the life is winter. the prospekt wakes late. it has been up nearly all night, and there is but little inducement to early rising when the sun itself sets such a fashion as nine o'clock for its appearance on the horizon, like a pewter disk, with a well-defined hard rim, when he makes his appearance at all. if we take the prospekt at different hours, we may gain a fairly comprehensive view of many russian ways and people, cosmopolitan as the city is. at half-past seven in the morning, the horse-cars, which have been resting since ten o'clock in the evening, make a start, running always in groups of three, stopping only at turnouts. the _dvorniki_ retire from the entrance to the courtyards, where they have been sleeping all night with one eye open, wrapped in their sheepskin coats. a few shabby _izvostchiks_ make their appearance somewhat later, in company with small schoolboys, in their soldierly uniforms, knapsacks of books on back, and convoyed by servants. earliest of all are the closed carriages of officials, evidently the most lofty in grade, since it was decided, two or three years ago, by one of this class, that his subordinates could not reasonably be expected to arrive at business before ten or eleven o'clock after they had sat up until daylight over their indispensable club _vint_--which is russian whist. boots (_muzhiki_) in scarlet cotton blouses, and full trousers of black velveteen, tucked into tall wrinkled boots, dart about to bakery and dairy shop, preparing for their masters' morning "tea." venders of newspapers congregate at certain spots, and charge for their wares in inverse ratio to the experience of their customers; for regular subscribers receive their papers through the post-office, and, if we are in such unseemly haste as to care for the news before the ten o'clock delivery--or the eleven o'clock, if the postman has not found it convenient otherwise--we must buy on the street, though we live but half a block from the newspaper office, which opens at ten. by noon, every one is awake. the restaurants are full of breakfasters, and dominique's, which chances to stand on the most crowded stretch of the street, on the sunny north side beloved of promenaders, is dense with officers, cigarette smoke, and characteristic national viands judiciously mingled with those of foreign lands. mass is over, and a funeral passes down the nevsky prospekt, on its way to the fashionable alexander nevsky monastery or novo-dyevitche convent cemeteries. the deceased may have been a minister of state, or a great officer of the court, or a military man who is accompanied by warlike pageant. the choir chants a dirge. the priests, clad in vestments of black velvet and silver, seem to find their long thick hair sufficient protection to their bare heads. the professional mutes, with their silver-trimmed black baldrics and cocked hats, appear to have plucked up the street lanterns by their roots to serve as candles, out of respect to the deceased's greatness, and to illustrate how the city has been cast into darkness by the withdrawal of the light of his countenance. the dead man's orders and decorations are borne in imposing state, on velvet cushions, before the gorgeous funeral car, where the pall, of cloth of gold, which will be made into a priest's vestment once the funeral is over, droops low among artistic wreaths and palms, of natural flowers, or beautifully executed in silver. behind come the mourners on foot, a few women, many men, a grand duke or two among them, it may be; the carriages follow; the devout of the lower classes, catching sight of the train, cross themselves broadly, mutter a prayer, and find time to turn from their own affairs and follow for a little way, out of respect to the stranger corpse. more touching are the funerals which pass up the prospekt on their way to the unfashionable cemetery across the neva, on vasily ostroff; a tiny pink coffin resting on the knees of the bereaved parents in a sledge, or borne by a couple of bareheaded men, with one or two mourners walking slowly behind. from noon onward, the scene on the prospekt increases constantly in vivacity. the sidewalks are crowded, especially on sundays and holidays, with a dense and varied throng, of so many nationalities and types that it is a valuable lesson in ethnography to sort them, and that a secret uttered is absolutely safe in no tongue,--unless, possibly, it be that of patagonia. but the universal language of the eye conquers all difficulties, even for the remarkably fair tatar women, whose national garb includes only the baldest and gauziest apology for the obligatory veil. the plain facades of the older buildings on this part of the prospekt, which are but three or four stories in height,--elevators are rare luxuries in petersburg, and few buildings exceed five stories,--are adorned, here and there, with gayly-colored pictorial representations of the wares for sale within. but little variety in architecture is furnished by the inconspicuous armenian, and the uncharacteristic dutch reformed and lutheran churches which break the severe line of this "tolerance street," as it has been called. most fascinating of all the shops are those of the furriers and goldsmiths, with their surprises and fresh lessons for foreigners; the treasures of caucasian and asian art in the eastern bazaars; the "colonial wares" establishments, with their delicious game cheeses, and odd _studena_ (fishes in jelly), their pineapples at five and ten dollars, their tiny oysters from the black sea at twelve and a half cents apiece. enthralling as are the shop windows, the crowd on the sidewalk is more enthralling still. there are kazaks, dragoons, cadets of the military schools, students, so varied, though their gay uniforms are hidden by their coats, that their heads resemble a bed of verbenas in the sun. there are officers of every sort: officers with rough gray overcoats and round lambskin caps; officers in large, flat, peaked caps, and smooth-surfaced voluminous cape-coats, wadded with eider-down and lined with gray silk, which trail on their spurs, and with collars of costly beaver or striped american raccoon, and long sleeves forever dangling unused. a snippet of orange and black ribbon worn in the buttonhole shows us that the wearer belongs to the much-coveted military order of st. george. there are civilians in black cape-coats of the military pattern, topped off with cold, uncomfortable, but fashionable chimneypot hats, or, more sensibly, with high caps of beaver. it is curious to observe how many opinions exist as to the weather. the officers leave their ears unprotected; a passing troop of soldiers-- fine, large, hardy fellows--wear the strip of black woolen over their ears, but leave their _bashlyks_ hanging unused on their backs, with tabs tacked neatly under shoulder-straps and belts, for use on the balkans or some other really cold spot. most of the ladies, on foot or in sledges, wear bashlyks or orenburg shawls, over wadded fur caps, well pulled down to the brows. we may be sure that the pretty woman who trusts to her bonnet only has also neglected to put on the necessary warm galoshes, and that when she reaches home, sympathizing friends will rub her vain little ears, feet, and brow with spirits of wine, to rescue her from the results of her folly. only officers and soldiers possess the secret of going about in simple leather boots, or protected merely by a pair of stiff, slapping leather galoshes, accommodated to the spurs. for some mysterious reason, the picturesque nurses, with their pearl-embroidered, diadem-shaped caps, like the _kokoshniki_ of the empress and court ladies, their silver-trimmed petticoats and jackets patterned after the ancient russian "soul-warmers," and made of pink or blue cashmere, never have any children in their charge in winter. indeed, if we were to go by the evidence offered by the nevsky prospekt, especially in cold weather, we should assert that there are no children in the city, and that the nurses are used as "sheep-dogs" by ladies long past the dangerous bloom of youth and beauty. the more fashionable people are driving, however, and that portion of the one hundred and fourteen feet of the prospekt's width which is devoted to the roadway is, if possible, even more varied and entertaining in its kaleidoscopic features than the sidewalks. it is admirably kept at all seasons. with the exception of the cobblestone roadbed for the tramway in the centre, it is laid with hexagonal wooden blocks, well spiked together and tarred, resting upon tarred beams and planks, and forming a pavement which is both elastic and fairly resistant to the volcanic action of the frost. the snow is maintained at such a level that, while sledging is perfect, the closed carriages which are used for evening entertainments, calls, and shopping are never incommoded. street sweepers, in red cotton blouses and clean white linen aprons, sweep on calmly in the icy chill. the police, with their _bashlyks_ wrapped round their heads in a manner peculiar to themselves, stand always in the middle of the street and regulate the traffic. we will hire an _izvostchik_ and join the throng. the process is simple; it consists in setting ourselves up at auction on the curbstone, among the numerous cabbies waiting for a job, and knocking ourselves down to the lowest bidder. if our vanka (johnny, the generic name for cabby) drives too slowly, obviously with the object of loitering away our money, a policeman will give him a hint to whip up, or we may effect the desired result by threatening to speak to the next guardian of the peace. if vanka attempts to intrude upon the privileges of the private carriages, for whom is reserved the space next the tramway track and the row of high, silvered posts which bear aloft the electric lights, a sharp "_beregis!_" (look out for yourself!) will be heard from the first fashionable coachman who is impeded in his swift career, and he will be called to order promptly by the police. ladies may not, unfortunately, drive in the smartest of the public carriages, but must content themselves with something more modest and more shabby. but vanka is usually good-natured, patient, and quite unconscious of his shabbiness, at least in the light of a grievance or as affecting his dignity. it was one of these shabby, but democratic and self-possessed fellows who furnished us with a fine illustration of the peasant qualities. we encountered one of the emperor's cousins on his way to his regimental barracks; the grand duke mistook us for acquaintances, and saluted. our _izvostchik_ returned the greeting. "was that vasily dmitrich?" we asked in russian form. "yes, madam." "whom was he saluting?" "us," replied the man, with imperturbable gravity. very different from our poor fellow, who remembers his duties to the saints and churches, and salutes kazan cathedral, as we pass, with cross and bared head, is the fashionable coachman, who sees nothing but his horses. our man's cylindrical cap of imitation fur is old, his summer _armyak_ of blue cloth fits, as best it may, over his lean form and his sheepskin _tulup_, and is girt with a cheap cotton sash. the head of the fashionable coachman is crowned with a becoming gold-laced cap, in the shape of the ace of diamonds, well stuffed with down, and made of scarlet, sky-blue, sea-green, or other hue of velvet. his fur-lined armyak, reaching to his feet,--through whose silver buttons under the left arm he is bursting, with pads for fashion or with good living,--is secured about his portly waist by a silken girdle glowing with roses and butterflies. his legs are too fat to enter the sledge,--that is to say, if his master truly respects his own dignity, --and his feet are accommodated in iron stirrups outside. he leans well back, with arms outstretched to accord with the racing speed at which he drives. in the tiny sledge--the smaller it is, the more stylish, in inverse ratio to the coachman, who is expected to be as broad as it is --sits a lady hugging her crimson velvet _shuba_ lined with curled white thibetan goat, or feathery black fox fur, close about her ears. an officer holds her firmly with one arm around the waist, a very necessary precaution at all seasons, with the fast driving, where drozhkies and sledges are utterly devoid of back or side rail. the spans of huge orloff stallions, black or dappled gray, display their full beauty of form in the harnesses of slender straps and silver chains; their beautiful eyes are unconcealed by blinders. they are covered with a coarse-meshed woolen net fastened to the winged dashboard, black, crimson, purple, or blue, which trails in the snow in company with their tails and the heavy tassels of the fur-edged cloth robe. the horses, the wide-spreading reddish beard of the coachman, parted in the middle like a well-worn whisk broom, the hair, eyelashes, and furs of the occupants of the sledge, all are frosted with rime until each filament seems to have been turned into silver wire. there is an alarm of fire somewhere. a section of the fire department passes, that imposing but amusing procession of hand-engine, three water-barrels, pennons, and fine horses trained in the _haute ecole_, which does splendid work with apparently inadequate means. an officer in gray lambskin cap flashes by, drawn by a pair of fine trotters. "_vot on sam!_" mutters our _izvostchik_,--there he is himself! it is general gresser*, the prefect of the capital, who maintains perfect order, and demonstrates the possibilities of keeping streets always clean in an impossible climate. the pounding of those huge trotters' hoofs is so absolutely distinctive--as distinctive as the unique gray cap--that we can recognize it as they pass, cry like the _izvostchik_, "_vot on sam!_" and fly to the window with the certainty that it will be "he himself." * since the above was written, this able officer and very efficient prefect has died. court carriages with lackeys in crimson and gold, ambassadors' sledges with cock-plumed chasseurs and cockaded coachmen, the latter wearing their chevrons on their backs; rude wooden sledges, whose sides are made of knotted ropes, filled with superfluous snow; grand ducal _troikas_ with clinking harnesses studded with metal plaques and flying tassels, the outer horses coquetting, as usual, beside the staid trot of the shaft-horse,--all mingle in the endless procession which flows on up the nevsky prospekt through the bolshaya morskaya,--great sea street,--and out upon the neva quays, and back again, to see and be seen, until long after the sun has set on the short days, at six minutes to three. a plain sledge approaches. the officer who occupies it is dressed like an ordinary general, and there are thousands of generals! as he drives quietly along, police and sentries give him the salute of the ordinary general; so do those who recognize him by his face or his kazak orderly. it is the emperor out for his afternoon exercise. if we meet him near the gate of the anitchkoff palace, we may find him sitting placidly beside us, while our sledge and other sledges in the line are stopped for a moment to allow him to enter. here is another sledge, also differing in no respect from the equipages of other people, save that the lackey on the low knife-board behind wears a peculiar livery of dark green, pale blue, and gold (or with white in place of the green at easter-tide). the lady whose large dark eyes are visible between her sable cap and the superb black fox shawl of her crimson velvet cloak is the empress. the lady beside her is one of her ladies-in-waiting. attendants, guards, are absolutely lacking, as in the case of the emperor. here, indeed, is the place to enjoy winter. the dry, feathery snow descends, but no one heeds it. we turn up our coat collars and drive on. umbrellas are unknown abominations. the permanent marquises, of light iron-work, which are attached to most of the entrances, are serviceable only to those who use closed carriages, and in the rainy autumn. just opposite the centre of this thronged promenade, well set back from the street, stands the cathedral of the kazan virgin. outside, on the quay of the tortuous katherine canal, made a navigable water-way under the second katherine, but lacking, through its narrowness, the picturesque features of the fontanka, flocks of pigeons are fed daily from the adjoining grain shops. in the curve of the great colonnade, copied, like the exterior of the church itself, from that of st. peter at rome, bronze statues, heroic in size, of generals kutuzoff and barclay de tolly, by the russian sculptor orlovsky, stand on guard. hither the emperor and empress come "to salute the virgin," on their safe return from a journey. hither are brought imperial brides in gorgeous state procession--when they are of the greek faith--on their way to the altar in the winter palace. we can never step into this temple without finding some deeply interesting and characteristically russian event in progress. after we have run the inevitable gauntlet of monks, nuns, and other beggars at the entrance, we may happen upon a baptism, just beyond, the naked, new-born infant sputtering gently after his thrice-repeated dip in the candle-decked font, with the priest's hand covering his eyes, ears, mouth, and nostrils, and now undergoing the ceremony of anointment or confirmation. or we may come upon a bridal couple, in front of the solid silver balustrade; or the exquisite liturgy, exquisitely chanted by the fine choir in their vestments of scarlet, blue, and silver, with the seraphic wings upon their shoulders, and intoned, with a finish of art unknown in other lands, by priests robed in rich brocade. or it may be that a popular sermon by a well-known orator has attracted a throng of listeners among the lofty pillars of gray finland granite, hung with battle-flags and the keys of conquered towns. what we shall assuredly find is votaries ascending the steps to salute with devotion the benignant brown-faced byzantine virgin and christ-child, incrusted with superb jewels, or kneeling in "ground reverences," with brow laid to the marble pavement, before the _ikonostas_, or rood-screen, of solid silver. our lady of kazan has been the most popular of wonder-working virgins ever since she was brought from kazan to moscow, in , and transported to petersburg, in (although her present cathedral dates only from ), and the scene here on easter-night is second only to that at st. isaac's when the porticoes are thronged by the lower classes waiting to have their flower and candle decked cakes and cream blessed at the close of the easter matins. one of the few individual dwelling-houses which linger on the nevsky prospekt, and which presents us with a fine specimen of the rococo style which rastrelli so persistently served up at the close of the eighteenth century, is that of the counts stroganoff, at the lower quay of the moika. the moika (literally, washing) river is the last of the semicircular, concentric canals which intersect the nevsky and its two radiating companion prospekts, and impart to that portion of the city which is situated on the (comparative) mainland a resemblance to an outspread fan, whose palm-piece is formed by the admiralty on the neva quay. the stately pile, and the pompous air of the big, gold-laced swiss lounging at the entrance on the nevsky, remind us that the stroganoff family has been a power in russian history since the middle of the sixteenth century. it was a mere handful of their kazaks, led by yermak timofeevitch, who conquered siberia, in , under ivan the terrible, while engaged in repelling the incursions of the tatars and wild siberian tribes on the fortified towns which the stroganoffs had been authorized to erect on the vast territory at the western foot of the ural mountains, conveyed to them by the ancient tzars. later on, when alexei mikhailovitch, the father of peter the great, established a new code, grading punishments and fines by classes, the highest money tax assessed for insult and injury was fifty rubles; but the stroganoffs were empowered to exact one hundred rubles. opposite the stroganoff house, on the upper moika quay, rises the large, reddish-yellow club of the nobility, representing still another fashion in architecture, which was very popular during the last century for palaces and grand mansions,--the corinthian peristyle upon a solid, lofty basement. it is not an old building, but was probably copied from the palace of the empress elizabeth, which stood on this spot. elizaveta petrovna, though she used this palace a great deal, had a habit of sleeping in a different place each night, the precise spot being never known beforehand. this practice is attributed, by some russian historians, to her custom of turning night into day. she went to the theatre, for example, at eleven o'clock, and any courtier who failed to attend her was fined fifty rubles. it was here that the populace assembled to hurrah for elizaveta petrovna, on december , , when she returned with little ivan vi. in her arms from the winter palace, where she had made captive his father and his mother, the regent anna leopoldina. it may have been the recollection of the ease with which she had surprised indolent anna leopoldina in her bed-chamber which caused her to be so uncertain in her own movements, in view of the fact that there were persons so ill-advised as to wish the restoration of the slothful german regent and her infant son, disastrous as that would have been to the country. we must do the russians who occupy the building at the present day the justice to state that they uphold religiously the nocturnal tradition thus established by elizaveta petrovna, and even improve upon it. from six o'clock in the evening onward, the long windows of the club, on the _bel etage_, blaze with light. the occasional temporary obscurations produced by the steam from relays of _samovari_ do not interfere materially with the neighbors' view of the card-parties and the final exchange of big bundles of bank-bills, which takes place at five o'clock or later the next morning. even if players and bills were duly shielded from observation, the _mauvais quart d'heure_ would be accurately revealed by the sudden rush for the sledges, which have been hanging in a swarm about the door, according to the usual convenient custom of vanka, wherever lighted windows suggest possible patrons. poor, hard-worked vanka slumbers all night on his box, with one eye open, or falls prone in death-like exhaustion over the dashboard upon his sleeping horse, while his cap lies on the snow, and his shaggy head is bared to the bitter blasts. later on, the chief of police lived here, and the adjoining bridge, which had hitherto been known as the green bridge, had its name changed to the police bridge, which rather puzzling appellation it still bears. a couple of blocks beyond this corner of the nevsky, the moika and the grand morskaya, the nevsky prospekt ends at the alexander garden, backed by the admiralty and the neva, after having passed in its course through all grades of society, from the monks at the extreme limit, peasant huts,--or something very like them, on the outskirts,--artistic and literary circles in the peski quarter (the sands), well-to-do merchants and nobles, officials and wealthy courtiers, until now we have reached the culminating point, where the admiralty, imperial palace, and war office complete the national group begun at the church. when, in , peter the great founded his beloved admiralty, as the first building on the mainland then designed for such purposes as this, and not for residence, it was simply a shipyard, open to the neva, and inclosed on three sides by low wooden structures, surrounded by stone-faced earthworks, moats, and palisades. hither peter was wont to come of a morning, after having routed his ministers out of bed to hold privy council at three and four o'clock, to superintend the work and to lend a hand himself. the first stone buildings were erected in , after his death. in the early years of the present century, alexander i. rebuilt this stately and graceful edifice, after the plans of the russian architect zakharoff, who created the beautiful tower adorned with russian sculptures, crowned by a golden spire, in the centre of the immense facade, fourteen hundred feet long, which forms a feature inseparable from the vista of the prospekt for the greater part of its length, to the turn at the znamenskaya square. on this spire, at the present day, flags and lanterns warn the inhabitants of low-lying districts in the capital of the rate at which the water is rising during inundations. in case of serious danger, the flags are reinforced by signal guns from the fortress. but in peter i.'s day, these flags and guns bore exactly the opposite meaning to the unhappy nobles whom the energetic emperor was trying to train into rough-weather sailors. to their trembling imaginations these signal orders to assemble for a practice sail signified, "come out and be drowned!" since they were obliged to embark in the crafts too generously given to them by peter, and cruise about until their leader (who delighted in a storm) saw fit to return. there is a story of one unhappy wight, who was honored by the presence aboard his craft of a very distinguished and very seasick persian, making his first acquaintance with the pleasures of yachting, and who spent three days without food, tacking between petersburg and kronstadt, in the vain endeavor to effect a landing during rough weather. when the present admiralty was built, a broad and shady boulevard was organized on the site of the old glacis and covered way, and later still, when the break in the quay was filled in, and the shipbuilding transferred to the new admiralty a little farther down the river, the boulevard was enlarged into the new alexander garden, one of the finest squares in europe. it soon became the fashionable promenade, and the centre of popular life as well, by virtue of the merry-makings which took place. here, during the carnival of , the temporary cheap theatre of boards was burned, at the cost of one hundred and twenty-six lives and many injured persons, which resulted in these dangerous _balagani_ and other holiday amusements being removed to the spacious parade-ground known as the empress's meadow. if we pass round the admiralty to the neva, we shall find its frozen surface teeming with life. sledge roads have been laid out on it, marked with evergreen bushes, over which a _yamtschik_ will drive us with his _troika_ fleet as the wind, to kronstadt, twenty miles away. plank walks, fringed with street lanterns, have been prepared for pedestrians. broad ice paths have been cleared, whereon the winter ferry-boats ply, --green garden-chairs, holding one or more persons, furnished with warm lap-robes, and propelled by stout _muzhiks_ on skates, who will transport us from shore to shore for the absurdly small sum of less than a cent apiece, though a ride with the reindeer (now a strange sight in the capital), at the laplanders' encampment, costs much more. it is hard to tear ourselves from the charms of the river, with its fishing, ice-cutting, and many other interesting sights always in progress. but of all the scenes, that which we may witness on epiphany day--the "jordan," or blessing of the waters, in commemoration of christ's baptism in the jordan--is the most curious and typically russian. after mass, celebrated by the metropolitan, in the cathedral of the winter palace, whose enormous reddish-ochre mass we perceive rising above the frost-jeweled trees of the alexander garden, to our right as we stand at the head of the nevsky prospekt, the emperor, his heir, his brothers, uncles, and other great personages emerge in procession upon the quay. opposite the jordan door of the palace a scarlet, gold, and blue pavilion, also called the "jordan," has been erected over the ice. thither the procession moves, headed by the metropolitan and the richly vestured clergy, their mitres gleaming with gems, bearing crosses and church banners, and the imperial choir, clad in crimson and gold, chanting as they go. the empress and her ladies, clad in full court costume at midday, look on from the palace windows. after brief prayers in the pavilion, all standing with bared heads, the metropolitan dips the great gold cross in the rushing waters of the neva, through a hole prepared in the thick, opalescent, green ice, and the guns on the opposite shore thunder out a salute. the pontoon palace bridge, the quays on both sides of the river, all the streets and squares for a long distance round about, are densely thronged; and, as the guns announce the consecration, every head is bared, every right hand in the mass, thousands strong, is raised to execute repeated signs of the cross on brow and breast. from our post at the head of the prospekt we behold not the ceremony itself but the framework of a great national picture, the great palace square, whereon twenty thousand troops can manoeuvre, and in whose centre rises the greatest monolith of modern times, the shaft of red finland granite, eighty-four feet in height, crowned with a cross-bearing angel, the monument to alexander i. there stand the guards' corps, and the huge building of the general staff, containing the ministries of finance and of foreign affairs, and many things besides, originally erected by katherine ii. to mask the rears of the houses at the end of the nevsky, and rebuilt under nicholas i., sweeping in a magnificent semicircle opposite the winter palace. regiments restrain the zeal of the crowd to obtain the few posts of vantage from which the consecration of the waters is visible, and keep open a lane for the carriages of royalty, diplomats, and invited guests. they form part of the pageant, like the empress's cream-colored carriage and the white horses and scarlet liveries of the metropolitan. the crowd is devout and silent, as russian crowds always are, except when they see the emperor after he has escaped a danger, when they become vociferous with an animation which is far more significant than it is in more noisy lands. the ceremony over, the throngs melt away rapidly and silently; pedestrians, finnish ice-sledges, traffic in general, resume their rights on the palace sidewalks and the square, and after a state breakfast the emperor drives quietly home, unguarded, to his anitchkoff palace. if we glance to our left, and slightly to our rear, as we stand thus facing the neva and the admiralty, we see the prefecture and the ministry of war, the latter once the mansion of a grandee in the last century; and, rising above the latter, we catch a glimpse of the upper gallery, and great gold-plated, un-russian dome, of st. isaac's cathedral, which is visible for twenty miles down the gulf of finland. the granite pillars glow in the frosty air with the bloom of a delaware grape. we forgive st. isaac for the non-russian character of the modern ecclesiastical glories of which it is the exponent, as we listen eagerly to the soft, rich, boom-boom-bo-o-om of the great bourdon, embroidered with silver melody by the multitude of smaller bells chiming nearly all day long with a truly orthodox sweetness unknown to the western world, and which, to-day, are more elaborately beautiful than usual, in honor of the great festival. we appreciate to the full the wailing cry of the prisoner, in the ancient epic songs of the land: "he was cut off from the light of the fair, red sun, from the sound of sweet church-bells." on the great palace square another characteristic sight is to be seen on the nights of court balls, which follow the jordan, when the blaze of electric light from the rock-crystal chandeliers, big as haystacks, within the state apartments, is supplemented by the fires in the heater and on the snow outside, round which the waiting coachmen warm themselves, with rembrandtesque effects of _chiaro-oscuro_ second only to the picturesqueness of _dvorniki_ in their nondescript caps and shaggy coats, who cluster round blazing fagots in less aristocratic quarters when the thermometer descends below zero. when spring comes with the magical suddenness which characterizes northern lands, the gardens, quays, and the nevsky prospekt still preserve their charms for a space, and are thronged far into the night with promenaders, who gaze at the imperial crowns, stars, monograms, and other devices temporarily applied to the street lanterns, and the fairy flames on the low curb-posts (whereat no horse, though unblinded, ever shies), with which man attempts, on the numerous royal festival days of early summer, to rival the illumination of the indescribably beautiful tints of river and sky. but the peasant-_izvostchik_ goes off to the country to till his little patch of land, aided by the shaggy little farm-horse, which has been consorting on the prospekt with thoroughbred trotters all winter, and helping him to eke out his cash income, scanty at the best of times; or he emigrates to a summer resort, scorning our insinuation that he is so unfashionable as to remain in town. the deserted prospekt is torn up for repairs. the merchants, especially the goldsmiths, complain that it would be true economy for them to close their shops. the annual troops of foreign travelers arrive, view the lovely islands of the neva delta, catch a glimpse of the summer cities in the vicinity, and dream, ah, vain dream! that they have also really beheld the nevsky prospekt, the great avenue of the realm of the frost king and the white tzar!* * from _scribner's magazine_, by permission. iii. my experience with the russian censor. in spite of the advantage which i enjoyed in a preliminary knowledge of the russian language and literature, i was imbued with various false ideas, the origin of which it is not necessary to trace on this occasion. i freed myself from some of them; among others, from my theory as to the working of the censorship in the case of foreign literature. my theory was the one commonly held by americans, and, as i found to my surprise, by not a few russians, viz., that books and periodicals which have been wholly or in part condemned by the censor are to be procured only in a mutilated condition, or by surreptitious means, or not at all. that this is not the case i acquired ample proof through my personal experience. the first thing that an american does on his arrival in st. petersburg is to scan the foreign newspapers in the hotels eagerly for traces of the censor's blot,--_le masque noir_, "caviare,"--his idea being that at least one half of the page will be thus veiled from sight. but specimens are not always, or even very often, to be procured with ease. in fact, the demand exceeds the supply sometimes, if i may judge from my own observations and from the pressing applications for these curiosities which i received from disappointed seekers. the finest of these black diamonds may generally be found in the inventive news columns of the london dailies and in the flippant paragraphs of "punch." like the rest of the world, i was on the lookout for the censor's work from the day of my arrival, but it was a long time before my search was rewarded by anything except a caricature of the censor himself in "kladderadatsch." that it was left unmasked was my first proof that that gentleman, individually and collectively, was not deficient in a sense of humor. the sketch represented a disheveled scribe seated three quarters submerged in a bottle of ink, from the half-open cover of which his quill pen projected like a signal of distress. this was accompanied by an inscription to the effect that as the russian censor had blacked so many other people, he might now sit in the black for a while himself. perhaps the censor thought that remarks of that sort came with peculiar grace from martinet-ruled berlin. about this time i received a copy of the "century," containing--or rather, not containing--the first article in the prohibited series by mr. kennan. i made no remonstrance, but mentioned the fact, as an item of interest, to the sender, who forthwith dispatched the article in an envelope. the envelope being small, the plump package had the appearance of containing a couple of pairs of gloves, or other dutiable merchandise. probably that was the reason why the authorities cut open one end. finding that it was merely innocent printed matter, they gave it to me on the very day of its arrival in st. petersburg, and thirteen days from the date of posting in new york. i know that it was my duty to get excited over this incident, as did a foreign (that is, a non-russian) acquaintance of mine, when he received an envelope of similar plump aspect containing a bulky christmas card, which was delivered decorated with five very frank and huge official seals, after having been opened for contraband goods. i did not feel aggrieved, however, and, being deficient in that mother eve quality which attributes vast importance to whatever is forbidden, i suggested that nothing more which was obnoxious to the russian government should be sent to me. but when a foreigner offered the magazine to me regularly, unmutilated, i did not refuse it. when a russian volunteered to furnish me with it, later on, i read it. when i saw summaries of the prohibited articles in the russian press, i looked them over to see whether they were well done. when i saw another copy of the "century," with other american magazines, at the house of a second russian, i did not shut my eyes to the fact, neither did i close my ears when i was told that divers instructors of youth in petersburg, moscow, and elsewhere were in regular receipt of it, on the principle which is said to govern good men away from home, viz., that in order to preach effectively against evil one must make personal acquaintance with it. i was also told at the english bookstore that they had seven or eight copies of the magazine, which had been subscribed for through them, lying at the censor's office awaiting proper action on the part of the subscribers. what that action was i did not ask at the time, in my embarrassment of riches. it will be perceived that when we add the copies received by officials, and those given to the members of the diplomatic corps who desired it, there was no real dearth of the "century" at any time. about this time, also, i had occasion to hunt up a package of miscellaneous newspapers, which had lingered as such parcels are apt to linger in all post-offices. in pursuance of my preconceived notions, i jumped to the conclusion that the censor had them, regardless of the contingency that they might have been lost out of russia. i called to ask for the papers. the official whom i found explained, with native russian courtesy, that i had come to the wrong place, that office being devoted to foreign matter in book form; but that, in all probability, the papers had become separated from their wrapper in the newspaper department (which was heedless) when they had been opened for examination, and hence it had been impossible to deliver them. still, they might have been detained for some good reason, and he would endeavor to find some record of them. while he was gone, my eyes fell upon his account-book, which lay open before me. it constituted a sort of literary book-keeping. the entries showed what books had been received, what had been forbidden, what was to be erased, whose property had been manipulated, and, most interesting of all, which forbidden books had been issued by permission, and to whom. among these i read the titles of works by stepniak, and of various works on nihilism, all of which must certainly have come within the category of utterly proscribed literature, and not of that which is promptly forwarded to its address after a more or less liberal sprinkling of "caviare." as i am not in the habit of reading private records on the sly, even when thus tempted, i informed the official on his return of my action, and asked a question or two. "do you really let people have these forbidden books?" "certainly," was his half-surprised, half-indignant reply. "and what can one have?" "anything," said he, "only we must, of course, have some knowledge of the person. what would you like?" i could only express my regret that i felt no craving for any prohibited literature at that moment, but i told him that i would endeavor to cultivate a taste in that direction to oblige him; and i suggested that, as his knowledge of me was confined to the last ten minutes, i did not quite understand how he could pass judgment as to what mental and moral food was suited to my constitution, and as to the use i might make of it. he laughed amiably, and said: "_nitchevo_,--that's all right; you may have whatever you please." i never had occasion to avail myself of the offer, but i know that russians who are well posted do so, although i also know that many russians are not aware of their privileges in this direction. it is customary to require from russians who receive literature of this sort a promise that they will let no other person see it,--an engagement which is as religiously observed as might be expected, as the authorities are doubtless aware. i did not pursue my search for the missing papers. i had allowed so much time to elapse that i perceived the uselessness of further action; they were evidently lost, and it mattered little as to the manner. shortly afterwards i received the first of my only two specimens of censorial "caviare." it was on a political cartoon in a new york comic paper. i sent it back to america for identification of the picture, and it was lost between new york and boston; which reconciled me to the possible carelessness of the russian post-office in the case of the newspapers just cited. my next experience was with count lyeff n. tolstoy's work entitled "life." this was not allowed to be printed in book form, although nearly the whole of it subsequently appeared in installments, as "extracts," in a weekly journal. i received the manuscript as a registered mail packet. the author was anxious that my translation should be submitted in the proof-sheets to a philosophical friend of his in petersburg, who read english, in order that the latter might see if i had caught the sense of the somewhat abstract and complicated propositions. it became a problem how those proof-sheets were to reach me safely and promptly. the problem was solved by having them directed outright to the censor's office, whence they were delivered to me; and, as there proved to be nothing to alter, they speedily returned to america as a registered parcel. my own opinion now is that they would not have reached me a whit less safely or promptly had they been addressed straight to me. the bound volumes of my translation were so addressed later on, and i do not think that they were even opened at the office, the law to the contrary notwithstanding. all this time i had been receiving a new york weekly paper with very little delay and no mutilation. but at this juncture an amiable friend subscribed in my name for the "century," and i determined to make a personal trial of the workings of the censorship in as strong a case as i could have found had i deliberately desired to invent a test case. i may as well remark here that "the censor" is not the hard-worked, omnivorous reader of mountains of print and manuscript which the words represent to the mind of the ordinary foreigner. the work of auditing literature, so to speak, is subdivided among such a host of men that office hours are brief, much of the foreign reading, at least, is done at home, and the lucky members of the committee keep themselves agreeably posted upon matters in general while enjoying the fruits of office. the censor's waiting-room was well patronized on my arrival. an official who was holding a consultation with one of the visitors inquired my business. i stated it briefly, and shortly afterwards he retired into an adjoining room, which formed the beginning of a vista of apartments and officials. while i waited, a couple of men were attended to so near me that i heard their business. it consisted in obtaining official permission to print the bills and programmes of a musical and variety entertainment. to this end they had brought not only the list of performers and proposed selections, but also the pictures for advertisement, and the music which was to be given. as the rare traveler who can read russian is already aware, the programme of every public performance bears the printed authorization of the censor, as a matter of course, quite as much as does a book. it is an easy way of controlling the character of assemblages, the value of which can hardly be disputed even by those prejudiced persons who insist upon seeing in this russian proceeding something more arbitrary than the ordinary city license which is required for performances elsewhere, or the lord chancellor's license which is required in england. in russia, as elsewhere, an ounce of prevention is worth fully a pound of cure. this, by the way, is the only form in which a foreigner is likely to come in contact with the domestic censure in russia, unless he should wish to insert an advertisement in a newspaper, or issue printed invitations to a gathering at his house, or send news telegrams. in these cases he may be obliged to submit to delay in the appearance of his advertisement, or requested to go to the elegance and expense of engraved invitations, or to detain his telegram for a day or two. such things are not unknown in germany. just as these gentlemen had paid their fee, and resigned their documents to the official who had charge of their case, another official issued from the inner room, approached me, requested me to sign my name in a huge ledger, and, that being done, thrust into my hands a bulky manuscript and departed. the manuscript had a taking title, but i did not pause to examine it. penetrating the inner sanctum, i brought out the official and endeavored to return the packet. he refused to take it, --it was legally mine. this contest lasted for several minutes, until i saw a literary-looking man enter from the anteroom and look rather wildly at us. evidently this was the owner, and, elevating the manuscript, i inquired if it were his. he hastened to my assistance and proved his rights. but as erasures do not look well in account-books, and as my name already occupied the space allotted to that particular parcel, he was not requested to sign for it, and i believe that i am still legally qualified to read, perform, or publish--whatever it was --that talented production. a dapper little gentleman, with a dry, authoritative air, then emerged and assumed charge of me. i explained my desire to receive, uncensured, a journal which was prohibited. "certainly," said he, without inquiring how i knew the facts. "just write down your application and sign it." "i don't know the form," i answered. he seemed surprised at my ignorance of such an every-day detail, but fetched paper and dictated a petition, which i wrote down and signed. when we reached the point where the name of the publication was to be inserted, he paused to ask: "how many would you like?" "how many copies of the 'century'? only one," said i. "no, no; how many periodical publications would you like?" "how many can i have on this petition?" i retorted in yankee fashion. "as many as you please. do you want four--six--eight? write in the names legibly." i gasped, but told him that i was not grasping; i preferred to devote my time to russian publications while in russia, and that i would only add the name of the weekly which i was already receiving, merely with the object of expediting its delivery a little. the document was then furnished with the regulation eighty-kopek stamp (worth at that time about thirty-seven cents), and the business was concluded. as i was in summer quarters out of town, and it was not convenient for me to call in person and inquire whether permission had been granted, another stamp was added to insure the answer being sent to me. the license arrived in a few days, and the magazine began to come promptly, unopened. i was not even asked not to show it to other people. i may state here that, while i never circulated any of the numerous prohibited books and manuscripts which came into my possession during my stay in russia, i never concealed them. i showed the "century" occasionally to personal friends of the class who could have had it themselves had they taken any permanent interest in the matter; but it is certain that they kept their own counsel and mine in all respects. everything proceeded satisfactorily until i went to moscow to stay for a time. it did not occur to me to inform the censor of my move, and the result was that the first number of the magazine which i received there was as fine a "specimen" as heart could desire. the line on the title-page which referred to the obnoxious article had been scratched out; the body of the article had been cut out; the small concluding portion at the top of a page had been artistically "caviared." of course, the article ending upon the back of the first page extracted had been spoiled. on this occasion i was angry, not at the mutilation as such, but at the breach of faith. i sat down, while my wrath was still hot, and indited a letter to the head censor in petersburg. i do not recollect the exact terms of that letter, but i know i told him that he had no right to cut the book after granting me leave to receive it intact, without first sending me word that he had changed his mind, and giving valid reasons therefor; that the course he had adopted was injudicious in the extreme, since it was calculated to arouse curiosity instead of allaying it, and that it would be much better policy to ignore the matter. i concluded by requesting him to restore the missing article, if he had preserved it, and if he had not, to send at once to london (that being nearer than new york) and order me a fresh copy of the magazine at his expense. a month elapsed, no answer came; but at the end of the month another mutilated "century" arrived. this time i waited two or three days in the hope of inventing an epistle which should be more forcible--if such a thing were possible--than my last, and yet calm. the letter was half written when an official envelope made its appearance from petersburg, containing cut pages and an apologetic explanation to the effect that the moscow censor, through an oversight, had not been duly instructed in his duty toward me. a single glance showed me that the inclosed sheets belonged to the number just received, not to the preceding number. i drove immediately to the moscow office and demanded the censor. "you can tell me what you want with him," said the ante-room cerberus. "send me the censor," said i. after further repetition, he retired and sent in a man who requested me to state my business. "you are not the censor," i said, after a glance at him. "send him out, or i will go to him." then they decided that i was a connoisseur in censors, and the proper official made his appearance, accompanied by an interpreter, on the strength of the foreign name upon my card. convinced that the latter would not understand english well, like many russians who can talk the language fluently enough, i declined his services, produced my documents from the petersburg censor, and demanded restitution of the other confiscated article. i obtained it, being allowed my pick from a neatly labeled package of contraband goods. that scratched, cut, caviared magazine is now in my possession, with the restored sheets and the censor's apology appended. it is my proof to unbelievers that the russian censor is not so black as he is painted. as we shook hands with this moscow official, after a friendly chat, i asked him if he would be a little obtuse arithmetically as to the old and new style of reckoning, and let me have my january "century" if it arrived before my departure for petersburg, as my license expired january . he smilingly agreed to do so. i also called on the moscow book censor, to find some books. the courtesy and readiness to oblige me on the part of the officials had been so great, that i felt aggrieved upon this occasion when this censor requested me to return on the regular business day, and declined to overhaul his whole department for me on the spot. i did return on the proper day, and watched operations while due search was being made for my missing property. it reached me a few days later, unopened, the delay having occurred at my banker's, not in the post-office or censor's department. on my return to petersburg, my first visit was to the censor's office, where i copied my original petition, signed it, and dismissed the matter from my mind until my february "century" reached me with one article missing and two articles spoiled. i paid another visit to the office, and was informed that my petition for a renewal of permission had not been granted. "why didn't you send me word earlier?" i asked. "we were not bound to do so without the extra stamp," replied my dapper official. "but why has my application been refused?" "too many people are seeing that journal; some one must be refused." "nonsense," said i. "and if it is really so, _i_ am not the proper person to be rejected. it will hurt some of these russian subscribers more than it will me, because it is only a question of _when_ i shall read it, not of whether i shall read it at all. i wonder that so many demoralizing things do not affect the officials. however, that is not the point; pray keep for your own use anything which you regard as deleterious to me. i am obliged to you for your consideration. but you have no right to spoil three or four articles; and by a proper use of scissors and caviare that can easily be avoided. in any case, it will be much better to give me the book unmutilated." the official and the occupants of the reception-room seemed to find my view very humorous; but he declared that he had no power in the matter. "very well," said i, taking a seat. "i will see the censor. "i am the censor," he replied. "oh, no. i happen to be aware that the head censor is expected in a few minutes, and i will wait." my (apparently) intimate knowledge of the ways of censors again won the day. the chief actually was expected, and i was granted the first audience. i explained matters and repeated my arguments. he sent for the assistant. "why was not this application granted?" he asked impressively. "we don't know, your excellency," was the meek and not very consistent reply. "you may go," said his excellency. then he turned graciously to me. "you will receive it." "uncut?" "yes." "but will they let me have it?" "will--they--let--you--have--it--when--i--say--so?" he retorted with tremendous dignity. then i knew that i should have no further trouble, and i was right. i received no written permission, but the magazine was never interfered with again. thus it will be seen that one practically registers periodicals wholesale, at a wonderfully favorable discount. during the whole of my stay in russia i received many books unread, apparently even unopened to see whether they belonged on the free list. in one case, at least, volumes which were posted before the official date of publication reached me by the next city delivery after the letter announcing their dispatch. books which were addressed to me at the legation, to assure delivery when my exact address was unknown or when my movements were uncertain, were, in every case but one, sent to me direct from the post-office. i have no reason to suppose that i was unusually favored in any way. i used no "influence," i mentioned no influential names, though i had the right to do so. an incident which procured for me the pleasure of an interview with the chief censor for newspapers and so forth will illustrate some of the erroneous ideas entertained by strangers. i desired to send to some friends in russia a year's subscription each of a certain american magazine, which sometimes justly receives a sprinkling of caviare for its folly, but which is not on the black list, and is fairly well known in petersburg. after some delay i heard from home that the publishers had consulted the united states postal officials, and had been informed that "_no_ periodical literature could be sent to russia, this being strictly prohibited." i took the letter to the newspaper censor, who found it amusingly and amazingly stupid. he explained that the only thing which is absolutely prohibited is russian text printed outside of russia, which would never be delivered. he did not explain the reason, but i knew that he referred to the socialistic, nihilistic, and other proscribed works which are published in geneva or leipzig. daily foreign newspapers can be received regularly only by persons who are duly authorized. permission cannot be granted to receive occasional packages of miscellaneous contents, the reason for this regulation being very clear. and _all_ books must be examined if new, or treated according to the place assigned them on the lists if they have already had a verdict pronounced upon them. i may add, in this connection, that i had the magazines i wished subscribed for under another name, to avoid the indelicacy of contradicting my fellow-countrymen. they were then forwarded direct to the russian addresses, where they were duly and regularly received. whether they were mutilated, i do not know. they certainly need not have been, had the recipients taken the trouble to obtain permission as i did, if they were aware of the possibility. it is probable that i could have obtained permission for them, had i not been pressed for time. i once asked a member of the censorship committee on foreign books on what principle of selection he proceeded. he said that disrespect to the emperor and the greek church was officially prohibited; that he admitted everything which did not err too grossly in that direction, and, in fact, _everything_ except french novels of the modern realistic school. he drew the line at these, as pernicious to both men and women. he asked me if i had read a certain new book which was on the proscribed list. i said that i had, and in the course of the discussion which ensued, i rose to fetch the volume in question from the table behind him to verify a passage. (this occurred during a friendly call.) i recollected, however, that that copy had not entered the country by post, and that, consequently, the name of the owner therein inscribed would not be found on the list of authorized readers any more than my own. i am sure, however, that nothing would have happened if he had seen it, and he must have understood my movement. my business dealings were wholly with strangers. it seems to be necessary, although it ought not to be so, to remind american readers that russia is not the only land where the censorship exists, to a greater or less extent. even in the united states, which is popularly regarded as the land of unlicensed license in a literary sense,--even in the boston public library, which is admitted to be a model of good sense and wide liberality,--all books are not bought or issued indiscriminately to all readers, irrespective of age and so forth. the necessity for making special application may, in some cases, whet curiosity, but it also, undoubtedly, acts as a check upon unhealthy tastes, even when the book may be publicly purchased. i have heard russians who did not wholly agree with their own censorship assert, nevertheless, that a strict censure was better than the total absence of it, apparently, in america, the utterances of whose press are regarded by foreigners in general as decidedly startling.* * from _the nation_ iv. bargaining in russia. in russia one is expected to bargain and haggle over the price of everything, beginning with hotel accommodations, no matter how obtrusively large may be the type of the sign "_prix fixe_" or how strenuous may be the assertions that the bottom price is that first named. if one's nerves be too weak to play at this game of continental poker, he will probably share our fate, of which we were politely apprised by a word at our departure from a hotel where we had lived for three months--after due bargaining--at their price. "if you come back, you may have the corresponding apartments on the floor below [the _bel etage_] for the same price." in view of the fact that there was no elevator, it will be perceived that we had been paying from one third to one half too much, which was reassuring as to the prospect for the future, when we should decide to return! if there be a detestable relic of barbarism, it is this custom of bargaining over every breath one draws in life. it creates a sort of incessant internal seething, which is very wearing to the temper and destructive of pleasure in traveling. one feels that he must chaffer desperately in the dark, or pay the sum demanded and be regarded as a goose fit for further plucking. so he forces himself to chaffer, tries to conceal his abhorrence of the practice and his inexperience, and ends, generally, by being cheated and considered a grass-green idiot into the bargain, which is not soothing to the spirit of the average man. when i mention it in this connection i do not mean to be understood as confining my remarks exclusively to russia; the opportunities for being shorn to the quick are unsurpassed all over the continent, and "one price" america's house is too vitreous to permit of her throwing many stones at foreign lands. only, in america, the custom is now happily so obsolete in the ordinary transactions of daily life that one is astonished when he hears, occasionally, a woman from the country ask a clerk in a city shop, "is that the least you'll take? i'll give you so much for these goods." in russia, the surprise would be on the other side. the next time i had occasion to hire quarters in a hotel for a sojourn of any length i resorted to stratagem, by way of giving myself an object lesson. i looked at the rooms, haggled them down, on principle, to what seemed to me really the very lowest notch of price; i was utterly worn out before this was accomplished. i even flattered myself that i had done nearly as well as a native could have done, and was satisfied. but i sternly carried out my experiment. i did not close the bargain. i asked princess----to try her experienced hand. result, she secured the best accommodations in the house for less than half the rate at which i had been so proud of obtaining inferior quarters! when we moved in, the landlord was surprised, but he grasped the point of the transaction, and seemed to regard it as a pleasant jest against him, and to respect us the more for having outwitted him. the princess apologized for having made such bad terms for us, and meant it! i suspect that that was a very fair sample of the comparative terms obtained by natives and outsiders in all bargains. it is one of those things at which one smiles or fumes, according to the force of the instinct for justice with which he has been blessed--or cursed--by nature. nothing, unless it be a healthy, athletic conscience, is so wofully destructive of all happiness and comfort in this life as a keen sense of justice! there are, it is true, persons in russia who scorn to bargain as much as did the girl of the merchant class in one of ostrovsky's famous comedies, who was so generous as to blush with shame for the people whom she heard trying to beat down exorbitant prices in the shops, or whom she saw taking their change. the merchant's motto is, "a thing is worth all that can be got for it." consequently, it never occurs to him that even competition is a reason for being rational. one striking case of this in my own experience was provided by a hardware merchant, in whose shop i sought a spirit lamp. the lamps he showed me were not of the sort i wished, and the price struck me as exorbitant, although i was not informed as to that particular subject. i offered these suggestions to the fat merchant in a mild manner, and added that i would look elsewhere before deciding upon his wares. "you will find none elsewhere," roared the merchant--previously soft spoken as the proverbial sucking dove--through his bushy beard, in a voice which would have done credit to the proto-deacon of a cathedral. "and not one kopek will i abate of my just price, _yay bogu!_ [god is my witness!] they cost me that sum; i am actually making you a present of them out of my profound respect for you, _sudarynya!_ [he had called me madame before that, but now he lowered my social rank to that of a merchant's wife, out of revenge.] and you will be pleased not to come back if you don't find a lamp to suit your peculiar taste, for i will not sell to you. i won't have people coming here and looking at things and then not buying!" it was obviously my turn to retort, but i let the merchant have the last word--temporarily. in ten minutes another shopkeeper offered me lamps of identical quality and pattern at one half his price, and i purchased one, such as i wished, of a different design for a small sum extra. i may have been cheated, but, under the circumstances, i was satisfied. will it be believed? bushybeard was lying in wait for me at the door, ready to receive me, wreathed in smiles which i can describe only by the detestable adjective "affable," as i took pains to pass his establishment on my way back. then the spirit of mischief entered into me. i reciprocated his smiles and said: "ivan baburin, at shop no. , round the corner, has dozens of lamps such as you deal in, for half the price of yours. you might be able to get them even cheaper, if you know how to haggle well. but i'm afraid you don't, for you seem to have been horribly cheated in your last trade, when you bought your present stock at the price you mentioned. how could any one have the conscience to rob an honest, innocent man like you so dreadfully?" he looked dazed, and the last time i cast a furtive glance behind me he had not recovered sufficiently to dash after me and overwhelm me with protestations of his uprightness, _yay bogu!_ and other lingual cascades. from the zest with which i have beheld a shopman and a customer waste half an hour chaffering an article up and down five kopeks (two and a half cents or less), i am convinced that they enjoy the excitement of it, and that time is cheap enough with them to allow them to indulge in this exhilarating practice. what is the remedy for this state of things? how are foreigners, who pride themselves on never giving more than the value of an article, to protect themselves? there is no remedy, i should say. one must haggle, haggle, haggle, and submit. guides are useless and worse, as they probably share in the shopkeeper's profit, and so raise prices. recommendations of shops from guides or hotels are to be disregarded. not that they are worthless,--quite the reverse; only their value does not accrue to the stranger, but to the other parties. it may well be, as veteran travelers affirm, that one is compelled to contribute to this mutual benefit association in any case; but there is a sort of satisfaction after all in imagining that one is a free and independent being, and going to destruction in his own way, unguided, while he gets a little amusement out of his own shearing. any one who really likes bargaining will get his fill in russia, every time he sets foot out of doors, if he wishes merely to take a ride. there are days, it is true, when all the cabmen in town seem to have entered into a league and agreed to demand a ruble for a drive of half a dozen blocks; and again, though rarely, they will offer to carry one miles for one fifth of that sum, which is equally unreasonable in the other direction. in either case one has his bargaining sport, at one end of the journey or the other. i find among my notes an illustration of this operation, which, however, falls far short of a conversation which i once overheard between a lower-class official and an _izvostchik_, who could not come to terms. it ended in the uniformed official exclaiming: "you ask too much. i'll use my own horses," raising a large foot, and waving it gently at the cabmen. "home-made!" (literally, "self-grown") retorted one _izvostchik_. the rival bidders for custom shrieked with laughter at his wit, the official fled, and i tried in vain--wonderful to relate--to get the attention of the group and offer them a fresh opportunity for discussion by trying to hire one of them. my note-book furnishes the following: "if anybody wants a merry _izvostchik_, with a stylish flourishing red beard, i can supply him. i do not own the man at present, but he has announced his firm intention of accompanying me to america. i asked him how he would get along without knowing the language? "'i'd serve you forever!' said he. "'how could i send you on an errand?' said i. "'i'd serve you forever!' said he. "that was the answer to every objection on my part. he and a black-haired _izvostchik_ have a fight for my custom nearly every time i go out. fighting for custom--in words--is the regular thing, but the way these men do it convulses with laughter everybody within hearing, which is at least half a block. it is the fashion here to take an interest in chafferings with cabmen and in other street scenes. "'she's to ride with me!' shouts one. '_barynya_, i drove you to vasily island one day, you remember!' 'she's going with me; you get out!' yells the other. 'she drove on the nevsky with me long before she ever saw you; didn't you, _barynya_? and the liteinaya,' and so on till he has enumerated more streets than i have ever heard of. 'and we're old, old friends, aren't we, barynya? and look at my be-e-autiful horse!' "'your horse looks like a soiled and faded glove,' i retort, 'and i won't have you fight over me. settle it between yourselves,' and i walk off or take another man, neither proceeding being favorably regarded. if any one will rid me of redbeard i will sell him for his passage-money to america. i am also open to offers for blackbeard, as he has announced his intention of lying in wait for me at the door every day, as a cat sits before a mouse's hole." vanka (the generic name for all _izvostchiki_) gets about four dollars or four dollars and a half a month from his employer, when he does not own his equipage. in return he is obliged to hand in about a dollar and a quarter a day on ordinary occasions, a dollar and a half on the days preceding great festivals, and two dollars and a half on festival days. if he does not contrive to extract the necessary amount from his fares, his employer extracts it from his wages, in the shape of a fine. the men told me this. as there are no fixed rates in the great cities, a bargain must be struck every time, which begins by the man demanding twice or thrice the proper price, and ends in your paying it if you are not familiar with accepted standards and distances, and in selling yourself at open-air auction to the lowest bidder, acting as your own auctioneer, in case you are conversant with matters in general. foreigners can also study the bargaining process at its best--or worst --in the purchase of furs. the neva freezes over, as a rule, about the middle of november, and snow comes to stay, after occasional light flurries in september and october, a little later. sometimes, however, the river closes as early as the end of september, or as late as within a few days of christmas. or the rain, which begins in october, continues at intervals into the month of january. the price of food goes up, frozen provisions for the poorer classes spoil, and more suffering and illness ensue than when the normal arctic winter prevails. in spite of the cold, one is far more comfortable than in warmer climes. the "stone" houses are built with double walls, three or four feet apart, of brick or rubble covered with mastic. the space between the walls is filled in, and, in the newer buildings, apertures with ventilators near the ceilings take the place of movable panes in the double windows. the space between the windows is filled with a deep layer of sand, in which are set small tubes of salt to keep the glass clear, and a layer of snowy cotton wadding on top makes a warm and appropriate finish. the lower classes like to decorate their wadding with dried grasses, colored paper, and brilliant odds and ends, in a sort of toy-garden arrangement. the cracks of the windows are filled with putty or some other solid composition, over which are pasted broad strips of coarse white linen. the india rubber and other plants which seem so inappropriately placed, in view of the brief and scant winter light, in reality serve two purposes--that of decoration and that of keeping people at a respectful distance from the windows, because the cold and wind pass through the glass in dangerous volume. carpets are rare. inlaid wooden floors, with or without rugs, are the rule. birch wood is, practically, the exclusive material for heating. coal from south russia is too expensive in st. petersburg; and imported coal is of the lignite order, and far from satisfactory even for use in the open grates, which are often used for beauty and to supplement the stoves. in the olden times, the beautifully colored and ornamented tile stoves were built with a "stove bench," also of tiles, near the floor, on which people could sleep. nowadays, only peasants sleep on the stove, and they literally sleep on top of the huge, mud-plastered stone oven, close to the ceiling. in dwellings other than peasant huts, what is known as the "german stove" is in use. each stove is built through the wall to heat two rooms, or a room and corridor. the yard porter brings up ten or twelve birch logs, of moderate girth, peels off a little bark to use as kindling, and in ten minutes there is a roaring fire. the door is left open, and the two draught covers from the flues--which resemble the covers of a range in shape and size--are taken out until the wood is reduced to glowing coals, which no longer emit blue flames. then the door is closed, the flue plates are replaced, and the stove radiates heat for twenty-four hours, forty-eight hours, or longer, according to the weather and the taste of the persons concerned,--russian rooms not being kept nearly so hot as american rooms. in this soft, delightful, and healthy heat, heavy underclothing is a misery. very few russians wear anything but linen, and foreigners who have been used to wear flannels generally are forced to abandon them in russia. hence the necessity for wrapping up warmly when one goes out. whatever the caprices of the weather, during the winter, according to the almanac, furs are required, especially by foreigners, from the middle of october or earlier until may. people who come from southern climes, with the memory of the warm sun still lingering in their veins, endure their first russian winter better than the winters which follow, provided their rashness, especially during the treacherous spring or autumn, does not kill them off promptly. therefore, the wise foreigner who arrives in autumn sallies forth at once in quest of furs. he will get plenty of bargaining and experience thrown in. first of all, he finds that he must reconstruct his ideas about furs. if he be an american, his first discovery is that his favorite sealskin is out of the race entirely. no russian would pay the price which is given for sealskin in return for such a "cold fur," nor would he wear it on the outside for display, while it would be too tender to use as a lining. sealskin is good only for a short jacket between seasons for walking, and if one sets out on foot in that garb she must return on foot; she would be running a serious risk if she took a carriage or sledge. all furs are used for linings; in short, by thus reversing nature's arrangement, one obtains the natural effect, and wears the fur next his skin, as the original owner of the pelt did. squirrel is a "cold," cheap fur, used by laundresses and the like, while mink, also reckoned as a "cold" fur, though more expensive, is used by men only, as is the pretty mottled skin obtained by piecing together sable paws. the cheapest of the "downy" furs, which are the proper sort for the climate, is the brown goat, that constantly reminds its owner of the economy practiced, by its weight and characteristic strong smell, though it has the merit of being very warm. next come the various grades of red fox fur,--those abundantly furnished with hair,--where the red is pale and small in area, and the gray patches are large and dark, being the best. the _kuni_, which was the unit of currency in olden days, and was used by royalty, is the next in value, and is costly if dark, and with a tough, light-weight skin, which is an essential item of consideration for the necessary large cloaks. sables, rich and dark, are worn, like the _kuni_, by any one who can afford them,--court dames, cavaliers, archbishops, and merchants, or their wives and daughters,--while the climax of beauty and luxury is attained in the black fox fur, soft and delicate as feathers, warm as a july day. the silky, curly white tibetan goat, and the thick, straight white fur of the _psetz_, make beautiful evening wraps for women, under velvets of delicate hues, and are used by day also, though they are attended by the inconvenience of requiring frequent cleaning. cloth or velvet is the proper covering for all furs, and the colors worn for driving are often gay or light. a layer of wadding between the fur and the covering adds warmth, and makes the circular mantle called a _rotonda_ set properly. these sleeveless circular cloaks are not fit for anything but driving, however, although they are lapped across the breast and held firmly in place by the crossed arms,--a weary task, since they fall open at every breeze when the wearer is on foot,--but they possess the advantage over a cloak with sleeves that they can be held high around the ears and head at will. the most inveterate "shopper" would be satisfied with the amount of running about and bargaining which can be got out of buying a fur cloak and a cap! the national cap has a soft velvet crown, surrounded by a broad band of sable or otter, is always in fashion, and lasts forever. people who like variety buy each year a new cap, made of black persian lambskin, which resembles in shape that worn by the kazaks, though the shape is modified every year by the thrifty shopkeepers. the possibilities for self delusion, and delusion from the other quarter, as to price and quality of these fur articles, is simply enormous. i remember the amusing tags fastened to every cloak in the shop of a certain fashionable furrier in moscow, where "asking price" and "selling price" were plainly indicated. by dint of inquiry i found that "paying price" was considerably below "selling price." moscow is the place, by the way, to see the coats intended for "really cold weather" journeys, made of bear skin and of reindeer skin, impervious to cold, lined with downy siberian rat or other skins, which one does not see in petersburg shops. the furs and the russians' sensible manner of dressing in general, which i have described, have much to do with their comfort and freedom from colds. no russian enters a room, theatre, or public hall at any season of the year with his cloak and overshoes, and no well-trained servant would allow an ignorant foreigner to trifle with his health by so doing. even the foreign churches are provided with cloak-rooms and attendants. and the russian churches? on grand occasions, when space is railed off for officials or favored guests, cloak-racks and attendants are provided near the door for the privileged ones, who must display their uniforms and gowns as a matter of state etiquette. the women find the light shawl --which they wear under their fur to preserve the gown from hairs, to shield the chest, and for precisely such emergencies--sufficient protection. on ordinary occasions, people who do not keep a lackey to hold their cloaks just inside the entrance have an opportunity to practice russian endurance, and unless the crowd is very dense, the large and lofty space renders it quite possible, though the churches are heated, to retain the fur cloak; but it is not healthy, and not always comfortable. it would not be possible to provide cloak-rooms and attendants for the thousands upon thousands who attend church service on sundays and holidays. with the foreign churches, whose attendance is limited comparatively, it is a different matter. one difficulty about foreigners visiting russia in winter is, that those who come for a short visit are rarely willing to go to the expense of the requisite furs. in general, they are so reckless of their health as to inspire horror in any one who is acquainted with the treacherous climate. i remember a couple of americans, who resisted all remonstrances because they were on their way to a warmer clime, and went about when the thermometer was twenty-five to thirty degrees below zero reaumur, in light, unwadded mantles, reaching only to the waist line, and with loose sleeves. a russian remarked of them: "they might have shown some respect for the climate, and have put on flannel compresses, or a mustard plaster at least!" naturally, an illness was the result. if such people would try to bargain for the very handsome and stylish coffins which they would consider in keeping with their dignity, they would come to the conclusion that furs would prove cheaper and less troublesome. but furs or coffins, necessaries or luxuries, everything must be bargained for in holy russia, and with the american affection for the national game of poker, that should not constitute an objection to the country. only non-card-players will mind such a trifle as bluff.* * reprinted, in part, from _lippincott's magazine_. v. experiences. so much has been said about the habits of the late emperor alexander iii. in his capital, that a brief statement of them will not be out of place, especially as i had one or two experiences, in addition to the ordinary opportunities afforded by a long visit and knowledge of the language and manners of the people. when the emperor was in st. petersburg, he drove about freely every day like a private person. he was never escorted or attended by guards. in place of a lackey a kazak orderly sat beside the coachman. the orderlies of no other military men wore the kazak uniform. any one acquainted with this fact, or with the emperor's face, could recognize him as he passed. there was no other sign; even the soldiers, policemen, and gendarmes gave him the same salute which they gave to every general. at peterhoff, in summer, he often drove, equally unescorted, to listen to the music in the palace park, which was open to all the public. on occasions of state or ceremony, such as a royal wedding or the arrival of the shah of persia, troops lined the route of the procession, as part of the show, and to keep the quiet but vigorously surging masses of spectators in order; just as the police keep order on st. patrick's day in new york, or as the militia kept order and made part of the show during the land naval parade at the columbian festivities in new york. on such occasions the practice as to allowing spectators on balconies, windows, and roofs varied. for example, during the emperor's recent funeral procession in moscow, roofs, balconies, open windows, and every point of vantage were occupied by spectators. in st. petersburg, the public was forbidden to occupy roofs, balconies, lamp-posts, or railings, and it was ordered that all windows should be shut, though, as usual, no restriction was placed on benches, stools, and other aids to a view. a few days later, when the emperor nicholas ii. drove from his wedding in the winter palace to the anitchkoff palace, roofs, balconies, and open windows were crowded with spectators. i saw the emperor alexander iii. from an open balcony, and behind closed windows. on the regular festivals and festivities, such as st. george's day, new year's day, the epiphany (the "jordan," or blessing of the neva), the state balls, easter, and so forth, every one knew where to look for the emperor, and at what hour. the official notifications in the morning papers, informing members of the court at what hour and place to present themselves, furnished a good guide to the emperor's movements for any one who did not already know. on such days the approaches to the winter palace were kept open for the guests as they arrived; the crowd was always enormous, especially at the "jordan." but as soon as royalties and guests had arrived, and, on the "jordan" day, as soon as the neva had been blessed, ordinary traffic was resumed on sidewalks of the winter palace (those of the anitchkoff palace, where the emperor lived, were never cut off from public use), on streets, and palace square. royalties and guests departed quietly at their pleasure. i was driving down the nevsky prospekt on the afternoon of new year's day, , when, just at the gate of the anitchkoff palace, a policeman raised his hand, and my sledge and the whole line behind me halted. i looked round to see the reason, and beheld the emperor and empress sitting beside me in the semi-state cream-colored carriage, painted with a big coat of arms, its black hood studded with golden doubleheaded eagles, which the present emperor used on his wedding day. a coachman, postilion, and footman constituted the sole "guard," while the late prefect, general gresser, in an open calash a quarter of a mile behind, constituted the "armed escort." they were on the roadway next to the horse-car track, which is reserved for private equipages, and had to cross the lines of public sledges next to the sidewalk. on other occasions, such as launches of ironclad war vessels, the expected presence of the emperor and empress was announced in the newspapers. it was easy enough to calculate the route and the hour, if one wished to see them. i frequently made such calculations, in town and country, and, stranger though i was, i never made a mistake. when cabinet ministers or high functionaries of the court died, the emperor and empress attended one of the services before the funeral, and the funeral. thousands of people calculated the hour, and the best spot to see them with absolute accuracy. at one such funeral, just after rumors of a fresh "plot" had been rife, i saw the great crowd surge up with a cheer towards the emperor's carriage, though the russians are very quiet in public. the police who were guarding the route of the procession stood still and smiled approvingly. but sometimes the streets through which the emperor alexander iii. was to pass were temporarily forbidden to the public; such as the annual mass and parade of the regiments of the guards in their great riding-schools, and a few more. i know just how that device worked, because i put it to the proof twice, with amusing results. the first time it was in this wise: there exists in st. petersburg a ladies' artistic circle, which meets once a week all winter, to draw from models. social standing as well as artistic talent is requisite in members of this society, to which two or three grand duchesses have belonged, or do belong. the product of their weekly work, added to gifts from each member, is exhibited, sold, and raffled for each spring, the proceeds being devoted to helping needy artists by purchasing for them canvas, paints, and so forth, to clothing and educating their children, or aiding them in a dozen different ways, such as paying house-rent, doctor's bills, pensions, and so forth, to the amount of a great many thousand dollars every year. when i was in petersburg, the exhibitions took place in the ballroom and drawing-room of one grand ducal palace, while the home and weekly meetings were in the palace of the grand duchess ekaterina mikhailovna, now dead. an amiable poet, yakoff petrovitch, invited me to attend one of these meetings,--a number of men being honorary members, though the women manage everything themselves,--but illness prevented my accompanying him on the evening appointed for our visit. he told me, therefore, to keep my invitation card. three months elapsed before circumstances permitted me to use it. one evening, on my way from an informal call of farewell on a friend who was about to set out for the crimea, i ordered my _izvostchik_ to drive me to the michael palace. we were still at some distance from the palace when a policeman spoke to the _izvostchik_, who drove on instead of turning that corner, as he had been on the point of doing. "why don't you go on up that street?" i asked. "impossible! probably the _hosudar_ [emperor] is coming," answered cabby. "whither is he going?" "we don't know," replied cabby, in true russian style. "but i mean to go to that palace, all the same," said i. "of course," said cabby tranquilly, turning up the next parallel street, which brought us out on the square close to the palace. as we drove into the courtyard i was surprised to see that it was filled with carriages, that the plumed chasseurs of ambassadors and footmen in court liveries were flitting to and fro, and that the great flight of steps leading to the grand entrance was dotted thickly with officers and gendarmes, exactly as though an imperial birthday _te deum_ at st. isaac's cathedral were in progress, and twenty or twenty-five thousand people must be kept in order. "well!" i said to myself, "this appears to be a very elegant sort of sketch-club, with evening dress and all the society appurtenances. what did yakoff petrovitch mean by telling me that a plain street gown was the proper thing to wear? this enforced 'simplification' is rather trying to the feminine nerves; but i will not beat a retreat!" i paid and dismissed my _izvostchik_,--a poor, shabby fellow, such as fate invariably allotted to me,--walked in, gave my furs and galoshes to the handsome, big head swiss in imperial scarlet and gold livery, and started past the throng of servants, to the grand staircase, which ascended invitingly at the other side of the vast hall. unfortunately, that instinct with whose possession women are sometimes reproached prompted me to turn back, just as i had reached the first step, and question the swiss. "in what room shall i find the ladies' artistic circle?" "it does not meet to-night, madame," he answered. "her imperial highness has guests." "but i thought the circle met every wednesday night from november to may." "it does, usually, madame; to-night is an exception. you will find the ladies here next week." "then please to give me my _shuba_ and galoshes, and call a sledge." the swiss gave the order for a sledge to one of the palace servants standing by, and put on my galoshes and cloak. but the big square was deserted, the ubiquitous _izvostchik_ was absent, for once, it appeared, and after waiting a few minutes at the grand entrance, i repeated my request to an officer of gendarmes. he touched his cap, said: "_slushaiu's_" (i obey, madame), and set in action a series of shouts of "_izvostchik! izvo-o-o-o-stchik!_" it ended in the dispatch of a messenger to a neighboring street, and--at last--the appearance of a sledge, visibly shabby of course, even in the dark,--my luck had not deserted me. i could have walked home, as it was very close at hand, in much less time than it took to get the sledge, be placed therein, and buttoned fast under the robe by the gendarme officer: but my heart had quailed a little, i confess, when it looked for a while as if i should be compelled to do it and pass that array of carriages and lackeys afoot. i was glad enough to be able to spend double fare on the man (because i had not bargained in advance), in the support of my little dignity and false pride. as i drove out of one gate, a kind of quiet tumult arose at the other. on comparing notes, two days later, as to the hour, with a friend who had been at the palace that night (by invitation, not in my way), i found that the emperor and empress had driven up to attend these lenten _tableaux vivants_, in which several members of the imperial family figured, just as i had got out of the way. this was one of the very few occasions when i found any street reserved temporarily for the emperor, who usually drives like a private citizen. i have never been able to understand, however, what good such reservation does, if undertaken as a protective measure (as hasty travelers are fond of asserting), when a person can head off the emperor, reach the goal by a parallel street, and then walk into a small, select imperial party unknown, uninvited, unhindered, as i evidently could have done and almost did, woolen gown, bonnet, and all, barred solely by my own question to the swiss at the last moment. that the full significance of my semi-adventure may be comprehended, with all its irregularity, let me explain that my manner of arrival was as unsuitable--as suspicious, if you like--as it well could be. i had no business to drive up to a palace, in a common sledge hired on the street, on such an occasion. i had no business to be riding alone in an open sledge at night. officers from the regiments of the guards may, from economy, use such public open sledges (there are no covered sledges in town) to attend a reception at the winter palace, or a funeral mass at a church where the emperor and empress are present. i have seen that done. but they are careful to alight at a distance and approach the august edifice on their own noble, uniformed legs. but a woman-- without a uniform to consecrate her daring--! however, closed carriages do not stand at random on the street in st. petersburg, any more than they do elsewhere, and cannot often be had either quickly or easily, besides being expensive. nevertheless, neither then nor at any other time did i ever encounter the slightest disrespect from police, gendarmes, servants (those severe and often impertinent judges of one's attire and equipage), nor from their masters,--not even on this critical occasion when i so patently, flagrantly transgressed all the proprieties, yet was not interfered with by word or glance, but was permitted to discover my error for myself, or plunge headlong, unwarned, into the duchess's party, regardless of my unsuitable costume. on the following wednesday, i drove to the palace again in the same style of equipage, and the same gown, which proved to be perfectly proper, as mr. y. p. had told me, and was greeted with a courteous and amiable smile by the head swiss, who had the air of taking me under his special protection, as he conducted me in person, not by deputy, to the quarters of the circle. i had another illustrative experience with closed streets. in february come the two grand reviews of the guards, stationed in petersburg, peterhoff, and tzarskoe selo, on the palace place. they are fine spectacles, but only for those who have access to a window overlooking the scene, as all the streets leading to the place are blockaded by the gendarmerie, to obviate the disturbance of traffic. on one of these occasions, i inadvertently selected the route which the emperor was to use. i was stopped by mounted gendarmes. i told them that it was too far to walk, with my heavy furs and shoes, and they allowed me to proceed. a block further on, officers of higher grade in the gendarmerie rode up to me and again declared that it was impossible for me to go on; but they yielded, as did still higher officers, at two or three advanced posts. i believe that it was not intended that i should walk along that street either; i certainly had it all to myself. i know now how royalty feels when carefully coddled, and prefer to have my fellow-creatures about me. i alighted, at last, with the polite assistance of a gendarme officer, at the very spot where the emperor afterward alighted from his sledge and mounted his horse. at that time i was living in an extremely fashionable quarter of the city, where every one was supposed to keep his own carriage. the result was that the _izvostchiki_ never expected custom from any one except the servants of the wealthy, and none but the shabbiest sledges in town ever waited there for engagements. accordingly, my turnout was very shabby, and the gendarmes could not have been impressed with respect by it. on the other hand, had i used the best style of public equipage, the likatchi, the kind which consists of an elegant little sledge, a fine horse, and a spruce, well-fed, well-dressed driver, it is probable that they would not have let me pass at all. ladies are not permitted, by etiquette, to patronize these _likatchi_, alone, and no man will take his wife or a woman whom he respects to drive in one. had i foreseen that there would be any occasion for inspiring respect by my equipage, i would have gone to the trouble and expense of hiring a closed carriage, a thing which i did as rarely as possible, because nothing could be seen through the frozen window, because they seemed much colder than the open sledges, and had no advantage except style, and that of protecting one from the wind, which i did not mind. vi. a russian summer resort. the spring was late and cold. i wore my fur-lined cloak (_shuba_) and wrapped up my ears, by russian advice as well as by inclination, until late in may. but we were told that the summer heat would catch us suddenly, and that st. petersburg would become malodorous and unhealthy. it was necessary, owing to circumstances, to find a healthy residence for the summer, which should not be too far removed from the capital. with a few exceptions, all the environs of st. petersburg are damp. unless one goes as far as gatschina, or into the part of finland adjacent to the city, tzarskoe selo presents the only dry locality. in the finnish summer colonies, one must, perforce, keep house, for lack of hotels. in tzarskoe, as in peterhoff, villa life is the only variety recognized by polite society; but there we had--or seemed to have-- the choice between that and hotels. we decided in favor of tzarskoe, as it is called in familiar conversation. as one approaches the imperial village, it rises like a green oasis from the plain. it is hedged in, like a true russian village, but with trees and bushes well trained instead of with a wattled fence. during the reign of alexander ii., this inland village was the favorite court resort; not peterhoff, on the gulf of finland, as at present. it is situated sixteen miles from st. petersburg, on the line of the first railway built in russia, which to this day extends only a couple of miles beyond,--for lack of the necessity of farther extension, it is just to add. it stands on land which is not perceptibly higher than st. petersburg, and it took a great deal of demonstration before an empress of the last century could be made to believe that it was, in reality, on a level with the top of the lofty admiralty spire, and that she must continue her tiresome trips to and fro in her coach, in the impossibility of constructing a canal which would enable her to sail in comfort. tzarskoe selo, "imperial village:" well as the name fits the place, it is thought to have been corrupted from _saari_, the finnish word for "farm," as a farm occupied the site when peter the great pitched upon it for one of his numerous summer resorts. he first enlarged the farmhouse, then built one of his simple wooden palaces, and a greenhouse for katherine i. eventually he erected a small part of the present old palace. it was at the dedication of the church here, celebrated in floods of liquor (after a fashion not unfamiliar in the annals of new england in earlier days), that peter i. contracted the illness which, aggravated by a similar drinking-bout elsewhere immediately afterward, and a cold caused by a wetting while he was engaged in rescuing some people from drowning, carried him to his grave very promptly. his successors enlarged and beautified the place, which first became famous during the reign of katherine ii. at the present day, its broad macadamized streets are lighted by electricity; its _gostinny dvor_ (bazaar) is like that of a provincial city; many of its sidewalks, after the same provincial pattern, have made people prefer the middle of the street for their promenades. naturally, only the lower classes were expected to walk when the court resided there. before making acquaintance with the famous palaces and parks, we undertook to settle ourselves for the time being, at least. it appeared that "furnished" villas are so called in tzarskoe, as elsewhere, because they require to be almost completely furnished by the occupant on a foundation of bare bones of furniture, consisting of a few bedsteads and tables. this was not convenient for travelers; neither did we wish to commit ourselves for the whole season to the cares of housekeeping, lest a change of air should be ordered suddenly; so we determined to try to live in another way. boarding-houses are as scarce here as in st. petersburg, the whole town boasting but one,--advertised as a wonderful rarity,--which was very badly situated. there were plenty of _traktiri_, or low-class eating-houses, some of which had "numbers for arrivers"--that is to say, rooms for guests--added to their gaudy signs. these were not to be thought of. but we had been told of an establishment which rejoiced in the proud title of _gostinnitza_, "hotel," in city fashion. it looked fairly good, and there we took up our abode, after due and inevitable chaffering. this hotel was kept, over shops, on the first and part of the second floor of a building which had originally been destined for apartments. its only recommendation was that it was situated near a very desirable gate into the imperial park. our experience there was sufficient to slake all curiosity as to russian summer resort hotels, or country hotels in provincial towns, since that was its character; though it had, besides, some hindrances which were peculiar, i hope, to itself. the usual clean, large dining-room, with the polished floor, table decorated with plants, and lace curtains, was irresistibly attractive, especially to wedding parties of shopkeepers, who danced twelve hours at a stretch, and to breakfast parties after funerals, whose guests made rather more uproar on afternoons than did those of the wedding balls in the evening, as they sang the customary doleful chants, and then warmed up to the occasion with bottled consolation. the establishment being shorthanded for waiters, these entertainments interfered seriously with our meals, which we took in private; and we were often forced to go hungry until long after the hour, because there was so much to eat in the house! our first experience of the place was characteristic. the waiter, who was also "boots," chambermaid, and clerk, on occasion, distributed two sheets, two pillows, one blanket, and one "cold" (cotton) coverlet between the two beds, and considered that ample, as no doubt it was according to some lights and according to the almanac, though the weather resembled november just then, and i saw snow a few days later. having succeeded in getting this rectified, after some discussion, i asked for towels. "there is one," answered mikhei (micah), with his most fascinating smile. the towel was very small, and was intended to serve for two persons! eventually it did not; and we earned the name of being altogether too fastidious. the washstand had a tank of water attached to the top, which we pumped into the basin with a foot-treadle, after we became skillful, holding our hands under the stream the while. the basin had no stopper. "running water is cleaner to wash in," was the serious explanation. some other barbarian who had used that washstand before us must also have differed from that commonly accepted russian opinion: when we plugged up the hole with a cork, and it disappeared, and we fished it out of the still clogged pipe, we found that six others had preceded it. it took a champagne cork and a cord to conquer the orifice. among our vulgar experiences at this place were--fleas. i remonstrated with mikhei, our typical waiter from the government of yaroslavl, which furnishes restaurant _garcons_ in hordes as a regular industry. mikhei replied airily:-- "_nitchevo!_ it is nothing! you will soon learn to like them so much that you cannot do without them." i take the liberty of doubting whether even russians ever reach that last state of mind, in a lifetime of endurance. two rooms beyond us, in the same corridor, lodged a tall, thin, gray-haired russian merchant, who was nearly a typical yankee in appearance. every morning, at four o'clock, when the fleas were at their worst and roused us regularly (the "close season" for mortals, in russia, is between five and six a. m.), we heard this man emerge from his room, and shake, separately and violently, the four pieces of his bedclothing into the corridor; not out of the window, as he should have done. so much for the modern native taste. it is recorded that the beauties of the last century, in st. petersburg, always wore on their bosoms silver "flea-catchers" attached to a ribbon. these traps consisted of small tubes pierced with a great number of tiny holes, closed at the bottom, open at the top, and each containing a slender shaft smeared with honey or some other sticky substance. so much for the ancient native taste. again, we had a disagreement with mikhei on the subject of the roast beef. more than once it was brought in having a peculiar blackish-crimson hue and stringy grain, with a sweetish flavor, and an odor which was singular but not tainted, and which required imperatively that either we or it should vacate the room instantly. mikhei stuck firmly to his assertion that it was a prime cut from a first-class ox. we discovered the truth later on, in moscow, when we entered a tatar horse-butcher's shop--ornamented with the picture of a horse, as the law requires--out of curiosity, to inquire prices. we recognized the smell and other characteristics of our tzarskoe selo "roast ox" at a glance and a sniff, and remained only long enough to learn that the best cuts cost two and a half cents a pound. afterward we went a block about to avoid passing that shop. the explanation of the affair was simple enough. in our hotel there was a _traktir_, run by our landlord, tucked away in a rear corner of the ground floor, and opening on what thackeray would have called a "tight but elegant" little garden, for summer use. it was thronged from morning till night with tatar old-clothes men and soldiers from the garrison, for whom it was the rendezvous. the horse beef had been provided for the tatars, who considered it a special dainty, and had been palmed off upon us because it was cheap. i may dismiss the subject of the genial mikhei here, with the remark that we met him the following summer at the samson inn, in peterhoff, where he served our breakfast with an affectionate solicitude which somewhat alarmed us for his sobriety. he was very much injured in appearance by long hair thrown back in artistic fashion, and a livid gash which scored one side of his face down to his still unbrushed teeth, and nearly to his unwashed shirt, narrowly missing one eye, and suggested possibilities of fight in him which, luckily for our peace of mind, we had not suspected the previous season. our chambermaid at first, at the tzarskoe hostelry, was a lad fourteen years of age, who dusted in the most wonderfully conscientious way without being asked, like a veteran trained housekeeper. we supposed that male chambermaids were the fashion, judging from the offices which we had seen our st. petersburg hotel "boots" perform, and we said nothing. a russian friend who came to call on us, however, was shocked, and, without our knowledge, gave the landlord a lecture on the subject, the first intimation of which was conveyed to us by the appearance of a maid who had been engaged "expressly for the service of our high nobilities;" price, five rubles a month (two dollars and a half; she chanced to live in the attic lodgings), which they did not pay her, and which we gladly gave her. her conversation alone was worth three times the money. our "boots" in st. petersburg got but four rubles a month, out of which he was obliged to clothe himself, and furnish the brushes, wax, and blacking for the boots; and he had not had a single day's holiday in four years, when we made his acquaintance. i won his eternal devotion by "placing a candle" vicariously to the saviour for him on christmas day, and added one for myself, to harmonize with the brotherly spirit of the season. andrei, the boy, never wholly recovered from the grief and resentment caused by being thus supplanted, and the imputation cast upon his powers of caring for us. he got even with us on at least two occasions, for the offense of which we were innocent. once he told a fashionable visitor of ours that we dined daily in the _traktir_, with the tatar clothes peddlers and the soldiers of the garrison, with the deliberate intention of shocking her. i suppose it soothed his feelings for having to serve our food in our own room. again, being ordered to "place the _samovar_" he withdrew to his chamber, the former kitchen of the apartment, and went to sleep on the cold range, which was his bed, where he was discovered after we had starved patiently for an hour and a half. andrei's supplanter was named katiusha, but her angular charms corresponded so precisely with those of the character in "the mikado" that we referred to her habitually as katisha. she had been a serf, a member of the serf aristocracy, which consisted of the house servants, and had served always as maid or nurse. she was now struggling on as a seamstress. her sewing was wonderfully bad, and she found great difficulty in bringing up her two children, who demanded fashionable "european" clothing, and in eking out the starvation wages of her husband, a superannuated restaurant waiter, also a former serf, and belonging, like herself, to the class which received personal liberty, but no land, at the emancipation. her view of the emancipation was not entirely favorable. in fact, all the ex-serfs with whom i talked retained a soft spot in their hearts for the comforts and irresponsibility of the good old days of serfdom. katiusha could neither read nor write, but her naturally acute powers of observation, unconsciously trained by constant contact with her former owners, were of very creditable quality. she possessed a genuine talent for expressing herself neatly. for example, in describing a concert to which she had been taken, she praised the soprano singer's voice with much discrimination, winding up with, "it was--how shall i say it?-- round--as round--as round as--a cartwheel!" her great delight consisted in being sent by me to purchase eggs and fruit at the market, or in accompanying me to carry them home, when i went myself to enjoy the scene and her methods. in her i was able to study russian bargaining tactics in their finest flower. she would haggle for half an hour over a quarter of a cent on very small purchases, and then would carry whatever she bought into one of the neighboring shops to be reweighed. to my surprise, the good-natured venders seemed never to take offense at this significant act; and she never discovered any dishonesty. when wearied out by this sort of thing, i took charge of the proceedings, that i might escape from her agonized groans and grimaces at my extravagance. after choking down her emotion in gulps all the way home, she would at last clasp her hands, and moan in a wheedling voice:-- "please, _barynya_,* how much did you pay that robber?" * mistress. "two kopeks* apiece for the eggs. they are fine, large, and fresh, as you see. twenty kopeks a pound for the strawberries, also of the first quality." * about one cent. then would follow a scene which never varied, even if my indiscretion had been confined to raspberries at five cents a pound, or currants at a cent less. she would wring her hands, long and fleshless as fan handles, and, her great green eyes phosphorescent with distress above her hollow cheeks and projecting bones, she would cry:-- "oh, _barynya_, they have cheated you, cheated you shamefully! you must let me protect you." "come, don't you think it is worth a few kopeks to be called 'a pearl,' 'a diamond,' 'an emerald'?" "is _that_ all they called you?" she inquired, with a disdainful sniff. "no; they said that i was 'a real general-ess.' they knew their business, you see. and they said '_madame_' instead of '_sudarynya_.'* was there any other title which they could have bestowed on me for the money?" *_sudarynya_ is the genuine russian word for "madam," but, like _spasibo_, "thank you," it is used only by the lower classes. many merchants who know no french except _madame_ use it as a delicate compliment to the patron's social position. she confessed, with a pitying sigh, that there was not, but returned to her plaint over the sinfully wasted kopeks. once i offered her some "tea-money" in the shape of a basket of raspberries, which she wished to preserve and drink in her tea, with the privilege of purchasing them herself. as an experiment to determine whether bargaining is the outcome of thrift and economy alone, or a distinct pleasure in itself, it was a success. i followed her from vender to vender, and waited with exemplary patience while she scrutinized their wares and beat down prices with feverish eagerness, despite the fact that she was not to pay the bill. i put an end to the matter when she tried to persuade a pretty peasant girl, who had walked eight miles, to accept less than four cents a pound for superb berries. i think it really spoiled my gift to her that i insisted on making the girl happy with five cents a pound. after that i was not surprised to find russian merchants catering to the taste of their customers by refusing to adopt the one-price system. it was vulgar to go to market, of course. even the great mastiff who acted as yard dog at the bazaar made me aware of that fact. he always greeted me politely, like a host, when he met me in the court at market hours. but nothing could induce him even to look at me when he met me outside. i tried to explain to him that my motives were scientific, not economical, and i introduced katiusha to him as the family bargainer and scapegoat for his scorn. he declined to relent. after that i understood that there was nothing for it but to shoulder the responsibility myself, and i never attempted to palliate my unpardonable conduct in the eyes of the servants of my friends whom i occasionally encountered there. the market was held in the inner courtyard of the _gostinny dvor_, near the chapel, which always occupies a conspicuous position in such places. while the shops under the arcade, facing on the street, sold everything, from "gallantry wares" (dry goods and small wares) to nails, the inner booths were all devoted to edibles. on the rubble pavement of the court squatted peasants from the villages for many versts round about, both russian and finnish, hedged in by their wares, vegetables, flowers, fruit, and live poultry. the russians exhibited no beautiful costumes; their proximity to the capital had done away with all that. at first i was inexperienced, and went unprovided with receptacles for my marketing. the market women looked up in surprise. "what, have you no kerchief?" they asked, as though i were a peasant or petty merchant's wife, and could remove the typical piece of gayly colored cloth from my head or neck. when i objected to transporting eggs and berries in my only resource, my handkerchief, they reluctantly produced scraps of dirty newspaper, or of ledgers scrawled over with queer accounts. i soon grew wise, and hoarded up the splint strawberry baskets provided by the male venders, which are put to multifarious uses in russia. after being asked for a kerchief in the markets, and a sheet when i went to get my fur cloak from its summer storage at a fashionable city shop, and after making divers notes on journeys, i was obliged to conclude that the ancient merchant fashion in russia had been to seize the nearest fabric at hand,--the sheet from the bed, the cloth from the table,--and use it as a traveling trunk. the finns at the market were not to be mistaken for russians. their features were wooden; their expression was far less intelligent than that of the russians. the women were addicted to wonderful patterns in aprons and silver ornaments, and wore, under a white head kerchief, a stiff glazed white circlet which seemed to wear away their blond hair. these women arrived regularly every morning, before five o'clock, at the shops of the baker and the grocer opposite our windows. the shops opened at that hour, after having kept open until eleven o'clock at night, or later. after refreshing themselves with a roll and a bunch of young onions, of which the green tops appeared to be the most relished, the women made their town toilet by lowering the very much reefed skirt of their single garment, drawing on footless stockings, and donning shoes. at ten o'clock, or even earlier, they came back to fill the sacks of coarse white linen, borne over their shoulders, with necessaries for their households, purchased with the proceeds of their sales, and to reverse their toilet operations, preparatory to the long tramp homeward. i sometimes caught them buying articles which seemed extravagant luxuries, all things considered, such as raisins. one of their specialties was the sale of lilies of the valley, which grow wild in the russian forests. their peculiar little trot-trot, and the indescribable semi-tones and quarter-tones in which they cried, "_land-dy-y-y-shee!_" were unmistakably finnish at any distance. the scene at the market was always entertaining. tzarskoe is surrounded by market gardens, where vegetables and fruits are raised in highly manured and excessively hilled-up beds. it sends tons of its products to the capital as well as to the local market. everything was cheap and delicious. eggs were dear when they reached a cent and a half apiece. strawberries, huge and luscious, were dear at ten cents a pound, since in warm seasons they cost but five. another berry, sister to the strawberry, but differing from it utterly in taste, was the _klubnika_, of which there were two varieties, the white and the bluish-red, both delicious in their peculiar flavor, but less decorative in size and aspect than the strawberry. the native cherries, small and sour, make excellent preserves, with a spicy flavor, which are much liked by russians in their tea. the only objection to this use of them is that both tea and cherries are spoiled. raspberries, plums, gooseberries, and currants were plentiful and cheap. a vegetable delicacy of high order, according to katiusha, who introduced it to my notice, was a sort of radish with an extremely fine, hard grain, and biting qualities much developed, which attains enormous size, and is eaten in thin slices, salted and buttered. i presented the solitary specimen which i bought, a ninepin in proportions, to the grateful katiusha. it was beyond my appreciation. pears do not thrive so far north, but in good years apples of fine sorts are raised, to a certain extent, in the vicinity of st. petersburg. really good specimens, however, come from poland, the lower volga, little russia, and other distant points, which renders them always rather dear. we saw few in our village that were worth buying, as the season was phenomenally cold, and a month or three weeks late, so that we got our strawberries in august, and our linden blossoms in september. apples, plums, grapes, and honey are not eaten--in theory--until after they have been blessed at the feast of the transfiguration, on august (n. s.),--a very good scheme for giving them time to ripen fully for health. before that day, however, hucksters bearing trays of honey on their heads are eagerly welcomed, and the peasant's special dainty-- fresh cucumbers thickly coated with honey--is indulged in unblessed. honey is not so plentiful that one can afford to fling away a premature chance! when the mushroom season came in, the market assumed an aspect of half-subdued brilliancy with the many sombre and high-colored varieties of that fungus. the poorer people indulge in numerous kinds which the rich do not eat, and they furnish precious sustenance during fasts, when so many viands are forbidden by the russian church and by poverty. one of the really odd sights, during the fast of saints peter and paul (the first half of july), was that of people walking along the streets with bunches of pea-vines, from which they were plucking the peas, and eating them, pods and all, quite raw. it seemed a very summary and wasteful way of gathering them. this fashion of eating vegetables raw was imported, along with the liturgy, from the hot lands where the eastern church first flourished, and where raw food was suitable. these traditions, and probably also the economy of fuel, cause it to be still persisted in, in a climate to which it is wholly unsuited. near tzarskoe i found one variety of pea growing to the altitude of nearly seven feet, and producing pods seven inches long and three wide. the stalks of the double poppies in the same garden were six and seven feet high, and the flowers were the size of peonies, while the pods of the single poppies were nine inches in circumference. one of the great festivals of the russian church is whitsunday, the seventh sunday after easter; but it is called trinity sunday, and the next day is "the day of spirits," or pentecost. on this pentecost day a curious sight was formerly to be seen in st. petersburg. mothers belonging to the merchant class arrayed their marriageable daughters in their best attire; hung about their necks not only all the jewels which formed a part of their dowries, but also, it is said, the silver ladles, forks, and spoons; and took them to the summer garden, to be inspected and proposed for by the young men. but the place where this spectacle can be seen in the most charming way is tzarskoe selo. we were favored with superb weather on both the festal days. on sunday morning every one went to church, as usual. the small church behind the lyceum, where pushkin was educated, with its un-russian spire, ranks as a court church; that in the old palace across the way being opened only on special occasions, now that the court is not in residence. outside, the choir sat under the golden rain of acacia blossoms and the hedge of fragrant lilacs until the last moment, the sunshine throwing into relief their gold-laced black cloth vestments and crimson belts. they were singers from one of the regiments stationed in town, and crimson was the regimental color. the church is accessible to all classes, and it was crowded. as at easter, every one was clad in white or light colors, even those who were in mourning having donned the bluish-gray which serves them for festive garb. in place of the easter candle, each held a bouquet of flowers. in the corners of the church stood young birch-trees, with their satin bark and feathery foliage, and boughs of the same decked the walls. there is a law now which forbids this annual destruction of young trees at pentecost, but the practice continues, and the tradition is that one must shed as many tears for his sins as there are dewdrops on the birch bough which he carries, if he has no flowers. peasant women in clean cotton gowns elbowed members of the court in silks; fat merchants, with well-greased, odorous hair and boots, in hot, long-skirted blue cloth coats, stood side by side with shabby invalid soldiers or smartly uniformed officers. tiny peasant children seated themselves on the floor when their little legs refused further service, and imitated diligently all the low reverences and signs of the cross made by their parents. those of larger growth stood with the preternatural repose and dignity of the adult russian peasant, and followed the liturgy independently. one little girl of seven, self-possessed and serenely unconscious, slipped through the crowd to the large image of the virgin near the altar, grasped the breast-high guard-rail, and kissed the holy picture in the middle of her agile vault. when some members of the imperial family arrived, the crowd pressed together still more closely, to make a narrow passage to the small space reserved for them opposite the choir. after the ever beautiful liturgy, finely expressed special prayers were offered, during which the priest also carried flowers. another church service on the following day--a day when public offices are closed and business ceases--completed the religious duties of the festival. in the afternoon, the whole town began to flock to the imperial park surrounding the old palace,--people of the upper circles included,--the latter from motives of curiosity, of course. three bands of the guards furnished the music. on the great terrace, shaded by oak-trees hardly beyond the bronze-pink stage of their leafage, played the hussars. near the breakfast gallery, with its bronze statues of hercules and flora, which the common people call "adam and eve" (the ariadne on naxos, in a neighboring grotto, is popularly believed to be "a girl of seven years, who was bitten by a snake while roaming the russian primeval forest, and died"), were the cuirassiers. the _stryelki_ (sharpshooters) were stationed near the lake, the central point for meetings and promenades during the lovely "white nights;" where boats of every sort, from a sail-boat or a chinese sampan to an astrakhan fishing-boat or a snowshoe skiff, are furnished gratis all summer, with a sailor of the guard to row them, if desired. round and round and round, unweariedly, paced the girls. they were bareheaded and in slippered feet, as usual, but had abandoned the favorite ulster, which too often accompanies extremities thus unclad, to display their gayest gowns. the young men gazed with intense interest. here and there a young fellow in "european clothes" was to be seen conversing with the more conservative young merchants, who retained the wrinkled boots confining full trousers, the shirt worn outside the trousers, the cloth vest, and the blue cloth long coat of traditional cut. it was like a scene from the theatre. across the lake, dotted with boating parties, stretched lawns planted with trees chosen for their variety of foliage, from the silver willow to the darkest evergreens, while the banks were diversified with a boat-house, a terraced grotto, a turkish kiosk with a bath, bridges, and so on. of the immense palace which stood so near at hand the graceful breakfast gallery alone was visible, while high above the waving crests of the trees the five cupolas of the palace church, in the shape of imperial crowns, seemed to float in the clear blue sky like golden bubbles. the lawns within the acacia-hedged compartments were dazzling with campanulas, harebells, rose campions, and crimson and yellow columbine, or gleamed with the pale turquoise of forget-me-nots. we had only to enter the adjoining park surrounding the alexander palace, built for alexander i. by his grandmother, katherine ii., to find the field of the cloth of gold realized by acres of tall double siberian buttercups, as large and as fragrant as yellow roses. soldiers of the garrison strolled about quietly, as usual. the pet of the hussars was in great form, and his escort of admiring comrades was larger than ever. they thrust upon him half of their tidbits and sunflower seeds,--what masses of sunflower seeds and handbill cigarettes were consumed that day, not to mention squash seeds, by the more opulent!--and waited eagerly for his dimpled smile as their reward. when the bands were weary, the regimental singers ranged themselves in a circle, and struck up songs of love, of battle, and of mirth, amid the applause and laughter of the crowd. now and then a soldier would step into the middle of the circle and dance. the slight, agile, square-capped _stryelki_ spun round until their full-plaited black tunics stood out from their tightly belted waists like the skirts of ballet dancers. the slender, graceful hussars, with their yellow-laced scarlet jackets and tight blue trousers, flitted to and fro like gay birds. the best performer of all was a cuirassier, a big blond fellow, with ruddy cheeks and dazzling teeth. planting his peakless white cloth cap with its yellow band firmly on his head, he stepped forward, grasping in each hand a serried pyramid of brass bells, which chimed merrily as he squatted, leaped, and executed eccentric steps with his feet, while his arms beat time and his fine voice rolled out the solo of a rollicking ballad, to which the rest of the company furnished the chorus as well as their laughter and delighted applause of his efforts permitted. his tightly fitting dark green trousers, tall boots, and jacket of white cloth trimmed with yellow set off his muscular form to great advantage. a comrade stood by, shaking the _buntchuk_, an ornamental combination of brass half-moons, gay horsetails, and bells, --the turkish staff of command, which is carried as a special privilege by several russian cavalry regiments. there is nothing that a company of russians likes better than a spirited performance of their national dances, whether it be high-class russians at a russian opera in the imperial theatre, or the masses on informal occasions like the present. this soldier, who danced with joy in every fibre, was quite willing to oblige them indefinitely, and seemed to be made of steel springs. he stopped with great reluctance, and that only when his company was ordered peremptorily to march off to barracks at the appointed hour. how many weddings resulted from that day's dress parade i know not. but i presume the traditional "match-makers" did their duty, if the young men were sufficiently impressed by the girls' outfits to commission these professional proposers to lay their hearts and hands at the feet of the parents on the following day. they certainly could not have been hopelessly bewitched by any beauty which was on show. the presence of the soldiers, the singing, music, and dancing, framed in that exquisite park, combined to create a scene the impression of which is far beyond comparison with that of the same parade in the summer garden at st. petersburg. this grand terrace of the old palace is a favorite resort for mothers and children, especially when the different bands of the guards' regiments stationed in the town furnish music. but not far away, in the less stately, more natural park surrounding the alexander palace, the property of the crown prince, lies the real paradise of the children of all classes. there is the playground, provided with gymnastic apparatus, laid out at the foot of a picturesque tower, one of the line of signal towers, now mostly demolished, which, before the introduction of the telegraph, flashed news from warsaw to st. petersburg in the then phenomenally short space of twenty-four hours. the children's favorite amusement is the "net." sailors of the guard set up a full-rigged ship's mast, surrounded, about two feet from the ground, by a wide sweep of close-meshed rope netting well tarred. boys and girls of ambition climb the rigging, swing, and drop into the net. the little ones never weary of dancing about on its yielding surface. a stalwart, gentle giant of a sailor watches over the safety of the merrymakers, and warns, teaches, or helps them, if they wish it. their nurses, with pendent bosoms and fat shoulders peeping through the transparent muslin of their chemises, make a bouquet of colors, with their gay _sarafani_, their many-hued cashmere caps attached to pearl-embroidered, coronet-shaped _kokoshniki_, and terminating in ribbons which descend to their heels, and are outshone in color only by the motley assemblage of beads on their throats. here, round the gymnastic apparatus and the net, one is able for the first time to believe solidly in the existence of russian children. in town, in the winter, one has doubted it, despite occasional coveys of boys in military greatcoats, book-knapsacks of sealskin strapped to their shoulders to keep their backs straight, and officer-like caps. the summer garb of the lads from the gymnasia and other institutes consists of thin, dark woolen material or of coarse gray linen, made in the blouse or russian shirt form, which portraits of count lyeff nikolaevitch tolstoy, the author, have rendered familiar to foreigners. it must not be argued from this fact that count tolstoy set the fashion; far from it. it is the ordinary and sensible garment in common use, which he has adopted from others, not they from him. it can be seen on older students any day, even in winter, in the reading-room of the imperial public library in st. petersburg, on the imperial choir in the winter palace as undress uniform for week-day services, and elsewhere. some indulgent mothers make silk blouses for their sons, and embroider them with cross-stitch patterns in colored floss, as was the fashion a number of years ago, when a patriotic outburst of sentiment was expressed by the adoption of the "national costume," for house wear, by adults of both sexes. from this period dates also, no doubt, that style of "peasant dress" which can be seen occasionally, in unfashionable summer resorts, on girls not of the highest class by any means, and which the city shops furnish in abundance as genuine to misguided foreigners. every one is familiar with these fantastic combinations of colored lace insertion with bands of blue cotton worked in high colors, and fashioned into blouses and aprons such as no peasant maid ever wore or beheld. what strikes one very forcibly about russian children, when one sees them at play in the parks, is their quiet, self-possessed manners and their lack of boisterousness. if they were inclined to scream, to fling themselves about wildly and be rude, they would assuredly be checked promptly and effectually, since the rights of grown people to peace, respect, and the pursuit of happiness are still recognized in that land. but, from my observation of the same qualities in untutored peasant children, i am inclined to think that russian children are born more agreeable than western children; yet they seem to be as cheerful and lively as is necessary, and in no way restricted. whistling, howling, stamping, and kindred muscular exercises begin just over the western frontier, and increase in violence as one proceeds westward, until japan is reached, or possibly the sandwich islands, by which time, i am told, one enters the orient and the realm of peace once more. what noise we heard in tzarskoe came from quite another quarter. as we were strolling in the park one afternoon, we heard sounds of uproarious mirth proceeding from the little island in the private imperial garden, where the duchess of edinburgh, in her girlhood, had a pretty russian cottage, cow-stalls, and so forth, with flower and potato beds. she and her brothers were in the habit of planting their pussy willows, received on palm sunday, on the bank of the stream, and these, duly labeled, have now grown into a hedge of trees. the screen is not perfect, however, and glimpses of the playground are open to the public across the narrow stream. on this summer afternoon, there was a party of royalties on the island, swinging on the giant steps. the giant steps, i must explain, consist of a tall, stout mast firmly planted in the earth, bound with iron at the top, and upholding a thick iron ring to which are attached heavy cables which touch the ground. the game consists of a number of persons seizing hold of these cables, running round the mast until sufficient impetus is acquired, and then swinging through the air in a circle. the tzarevitch* who had driven over from the great camp at krasnoe selo, and whom i had seen in the church of the old palace that morning at a special mass, with the angelic imperial choir and the priests from the winter palace sent down from petersburg for the occasion, was now sailing through the air high up toward the apex of the mast. one of his imperial aunts, clad in a fleecy white gown, occupied a similar position on another cable. it was plain that they could not have done their own running to gain impetus, and that the gardeners must have towed them by the ends of the ropes. the other grand dukes and duchesses were managing their own cables in the usual manner. the party included the king and queen of greece and other royal spectators. what interested me most was to hear them all shrieking and conversing in russian, with only occasional lapses into french, instead of the reverse. * the present emperor, nicholas ii. but everything is not royal in the vicinity of these summer parks and palaces. for example, just outside of tzarskoe selo, on the petersburg highway, lies a russian village called kuzmino, whose inhabitants are as genuine, unmodified peasants as if they lived a hundred miles from any provincial town. here in the north, where timber is plentiful, cottages are raised from the ground by a half-story, without windows, which serves as a storeroom for carts, sledges, and farming implements. the entrance is through a door beside the large courtyard gate, which rears its heavy frame on the street line, adjoining the house, in russian fashion. a rough staircase leads to the dwelling-rooms over the shed storeroom. three tiny windows on the street front, with solid wooden shutters, are the ordinary allowance for light. in kuzmino, many of the windows had delicate, clean white curtains, and all were filled with blooming plants. a single window, for symmetry, and a carved balcony fill in the sharp gable end of such houses, but open into nothing, and the window is not even glazed. carved horses' heads, rude but recognizable, tuft the peak, and lacelike wood carving droops from the eaves. the roofs also are of wood. this was the style of the cottages in kuzmino. the name of the owner was inscribed on the corner of each house; and there appeared to be but two surnames, at most three, in the whole village. one new but unfinished house seemed to have been built from the ridgepole downward, instead of in the usual order. there were no doorways or stairs or apertures for communication between the stories, which were two in number. it was an architectural riddle. as a stroll to the village had consumed an unexpected amount of time, we found ourselves, at the breakfast hour, miles away from our hotel. we instituted a search for milk, and were directed at random, it seemed, until a withered little old peasant, who was evidently given to tippling, enlisted himself as our guide. he took us to the house of a woman who carried milk and cream to town twice a week, and introduced us with a comical flourish. the family consisted of an old woman, as dried and colorless as a russian codfish from arkhangel, but very clean and active; her son, a big, fresh-colored fellow, with a mop of dark brown curls, well set off by his scarlet cotton blouse; his wife, a slender, red-cheeked brunette, with delicate, pretty features; and their baby girl. they treated us like friends come to make a call; refused to accept money for their cream; begged us to allow them to prepare the _samovar_, as a favor to them, and send for white rolls, as they were sure we could not eat their sour black bread; and expressed deep regret that their berries were all gone, as the season was past. they showed us over their house in the prettiest, simplest way, and introduced us to the dark storeroom where their spare clothing and stores of food for the winter, such as salted cucumbers in casks, and other property, were packed away; to a narrow slip of a room on the front, where the meals for the family were prepared with remarkably few pots and no pans; to the living-room, with its whitewashed stone-and-mud oven in one corner, for both cooking and heating, a bench running round the walls on three sides, and a clean pine table in the corner of honor, where hung the holy images. they had a fine collection of these images, which were a sign of prosperity as well as of devotion. the existence of another tiny room also bore witness to easy circumstances. in this room they slept; and the baby, who was taking her noonday nap, was exhibited to us by the proud papa. her cradle consisted of a splint market basket suspended from the ceiling by a stout wire spring, like the spring of a bird-cage, and rocked gently. the baby gazed at us with bright, bird-like eyes and smiled quietly when she woke, as though she had inherited her parents' gentle ways. we believed them when they said that she never cried; we had already discovered that this was the rule with russian children of all classes. they were much interested to learn from what country we came. i was prepared to find them unacquainted with the situation of america, after having been asked by an old soldier in the park, "in what district of russia is america?" and after having been told by an _izvostchik_ that the late empress had come from my country, since "germany" meant for him all the world which was not russia, just as the adjective "german" signifies anything foreign and not wholly approved. "is america near berlin?" asked our peasant hosts. "farther than that," i replied. they laughed, and gave up the riddle after a few more equally wild guesses. "it is on the other side of the world," i said. "then you must be nearer god than we are!" they exclaimed, with a sort of reverence for people who came from the suburbs of heaven. "surely," i said, "you do not think that the earth is flat, and that we live on the upper side, and you on the lower?" but that was precisely what they did think, in their modesty, and, as it seemed a hopeless task to demonstrate to them the sphericity of the globe, i left them in that flattering delusion. i asked the old woman to explain her holy pictures to me, as i always enjoyed the quaint expressions and elucidations of the peasants, and inquired whether she thought the _ikona_ of the virgin was the virgin herself. i had heard it asserted very often by over-wise foreigners that this was the idea entertained by all russians, without regard to class, and especially by the peasants. "no," she replied, "but it shows the virgin mother to me, just as your picture would show you to me when you were on the other side of the world, and remind me of you. only--how shall i say it?--there is more power in a wonder-working _ikona_ like this." she handed me one which depicted the virgin completely surrounded by a halo of starlike points shaded in red and yellow flames. it is called "the virgin-of-the-bush-that-burned-but-was-not-consumed," evidently a reminiscence of moses. she attached particular value to it because of the aid rendered on the occasion which had demonstrated its "wonder-working" (miraculous) powers. it appeared that a dangerous fire had broken out in the neighborhood, and was rapidly consuming the close-set wooden village, as such fires generally do without remedy. as the fire had been started by the lightning, on st. ilya's day (st. elijah's), no earthly power could quench it but the milk from a jet-black cow, which no one chanced to have on hand. seeing the flames approach, my old woman, domna nikolaevna t., seized the holy image, ran out, and held it facing the conflagration, uttering the proper prayer the while. immediately a strong wind arose and drove the flames off in a safe direction, and the village was rescued. she had a thanksgiving service celebrated in the church, and placed i know not how many candles to the virgin's honor, as did the other villagers. thus they had learned that there was divine power in this _ikona_, although it was not, strictly speaking, "wonder-working," since it had not been officially recognized as such by the ecclesiastical authorities. these people seemed happy and contented with their lot. not one of them could read or write much, the old woman not at all. they cultivated berries for market as well as carried on the milk business; and when we rose to go, they entreated us to come out on their plot of land and see whether some could not be found. to their grief, only a few small cherries were to be discovered,--it was september,--and these they forced upon us. as we had hurt their feelings by leaving money on the table to pay for the cream, we accepted the cherries by way of compromise. the old woman chatted freely in her garden. she had been a serf, and, in her opinion, things were not much changed for the better, except in one respect. all the people in this village had been crown serfs, it seemed. the lot of the crown serfs was easier in every way than that of the ordinary private serfs, so that the emancipation only put a definite name to the practical freedom which they already enjoyed, and added a few minor privileges, with the ownership of a somewhat larger allotment of land than the serfs of the nobility received. i knew this: she was hardly capable of giving me so complete a summary of their condition. but--it was the usual _but_, i found--they had to work much harder now than before, in order to live. the only real improvement which she could think of, on the inspiration of the moment, was, that a certain irascible crown official, who had had charge of them in the olden days, and whose name she mentioned, who had been in the habit of distributing beatings with a lavish hand whenever the serfs displeased him or obeyed reluctantly, had been obliged to restrain his temper after the emancipation. "nowadays, there is no one to order us about like that, or to thrash us," she remarked. we found our fuddled old peasant guide hanging about for "tea-money," when we bade farewell to my friend domna, who, with her family, offered us her hand at parting. he was not too thoroughly soaked with "tea" already not to be able to draw the inference that our long stay with the milkwoman indicated pleasure, and he intimated that the introduction fee ought to be in proportion to our enjoyment. we responded so cheerfully to this demand that he immediately discovered the existence of a dozen historical monuments and points of interest in the tiny village, all invented on the spot; and when we dismissed him peremptorily, he took great care to impress his name and the position of his hut on our memories, for future use. we had already seen the only object of any interest, the large church far away down the mile-long street. we had found a festival mass in progress, as it happened to be one of the noted holidays of the year. as we stood a little to one side, listening to the sweet but unsophisticated chanting of the village lads, who had had no training beyond that given in the village school, a woman approached us with a tiny coffin tucked under one arm. trestles were brought; she set it down on them, beside us. it was very plain in form, made of the commonest wood, and stained a bright yellow with a kind of thin wash, instead of the vivid pink which seems to be the favorite hue for children's coffins in town. the baby's father removed the lid, which comprised exactly half the depth, the mother smoothed out the draperies, and they took their stand near by. several strips of the coarsest pink tarlatan were draped across the little waxen brow and along the edges of the coffin. on these lay such poor flowers as the lateness of the season and the poverty of the parents could afford,--small, half-withered or frost-bitten dahlias, poppies, and one stray corn-flower. the parents looked gently resigned, patient, sorrowful, but tearless, as is the russian manner. after the liturgy and special prayers for the day, the funeral service was begun; but we went out into the graveyard surrounding the church, and ran the gauntlet of the beggars at the door,--beggars in the midst of poverty, to whom the poor gave their mites with gentle sympathy. russian graveyards are not, as a rule, like the sunny, cheerful homes of the dead to which we are accustomed. this one was especially melancholy, with its narrow, tortuous paths, uncared-for plots, and crosses of unpainted wood blackened by the weather. the most elaborate monuments did not rise above tin crosses painted to simulate birch boughs. it was strictly a peasant cemetery, utterly lacking in graves of the higher classes, or even of the well to do. on its outskirts, where the flat, treeless plain began again, we found a peasant sexton engaged in digging a grave. his conversation was depressing, not because he dwelt unduly upon death and kindred subjects, but because his views of life were so pessimistic. why, for example, did it enter his brain to warn me that the finnish women of the neighboring villages,--all the country round about is the old finnish ingermannland,--in company with the women of his own village, were in the habit of buying stale eggs at the tzarskoe selo shops to mix with their fresh eggs, which they sold in the market, the same with intent to deceive? a stale egg explains itself as promptly and as thoroughly as anything i am acquainted with, not excepting limburger cheese, and katiusha and i had had no severe experiences with the women whom he thus unflatteringly described. he seemed a thoroughly disillusioned man, and we left him at last, with an involuntary burden of misanthropic ideas, though he addressed me persistently as _galubtchik_,--"dear little dove," literally translated. if i were to undertake to chronicle the inner life of tzarskoe, the characteristics of the inhabitants from whom i received favors and kind deeds without number, information, and whatever else they could think of to bestow or i could ask, i should never have done. but there is much that is instructive in all ranks of life to be gathered from a prolonged sojourn in this "imperial village," where world-famed palaces have their echoes aroused at seven in the morning by a gentle shepherd like the shepherd of the remotest provincial hamlets, a strapping peasant in a scarlet cotton blouse and blue homespun linen trousers tucked into tall wrinkled boots, and armed with a fish-horn, which he toots at the intersection of the macadamized streets to assemble the village cattle; where the strawberry peddler, recognizable by the red cloth spread over the tray borne upon his head, and the herring vender, and rival ice-cream dealers deafen one with their cries, in true city fashion; where the fire department alarms one by setting fire to the baker's chimneys opposite, and then playing upon them, by way of cleaning them; where tatars, soldiers, goats, cows, pet herons, rude peasant carts, policemen, and inhabitants share the middle of the road with the liveried equipages of royalty and courtiers; where the crows and pigeons assert rights equal to those of man, except that they go to roost at eight o'clock on the nightless "white nights;" and where one never knows whether one will encounter the emperor of all the russias or a barefooted finn when one turns a corner. vii. a stroll in moscow with count tolstoy. "have you ever visited a church of the old believers?" count tolstoy asked me one evening. we were sitting round the supper-table at count tolstoy's house in moscow. i was just experimenting on some pickled mushrooms from yasnaya polyana,--the daintiest little mushrooms which i encountered in that mushroom-eating land. the mushrooms and question furnished a diversion which was needed. the baby and younger children were in bed. the elders of the family, some relatives, and ourselves had been engaged in a lively discussion; or, rather, i had been discussing matters with the count, while the others joined in from time to time. it began with the moscow beggars. "i understand them now, and what you wrote of them," i said. "i have neither the purse of fortunatus nor a heart of flint. if i refuse their prayers, i feel wicked; if i give them five kopeks, i feel mean. it seems too little to help them to anything but _vodka_; and if i give ten kopeks, they hold it out at arm's length, look at it and me suspiciously; and then i feel so provoked that i give not a copper to any one for days. it seems to do no good." "no," said count tolstoy with a troubled look; "it does no good. giving money to any one who asks is not doing good; it is a mere civility. if a beggar asks me for five kopeks, or five rubles, or five hundred rubles, i must give it to him as a politeness, nothing more, provided i have it about me. it probably always goes for _vodka_." "but what is one to do? i have sometimes thought that i would buy my man some bread and see that he ate it when he specifies what the money is for. but, by a singular coincidence, they never ask for bread-money within eye-shot of a bakery. i suppose that it would be better for me to take the trouble to hunt one up and give the bread." "no; for you only buy the bread. it costs you no personal labor." "but suppose i had made the bread?--i can make capital bread, only i cannot make it here where i have no conveniences; so i give the money instead." "if you had made the bread, still you would not have raised the grain, --plowed, sowed, reaped, threshed, and ground it. it would not be your labor." "if that is the case, then i have just done a very evil thing. i have made some caps for the siberian exiles in the forwarding prison. it would have been better to let their shaved heads freeze." "why? you gave your labor, your time. in that time you could probably have done something that would have pleased you better." "certainly. but if one is to dig up the roots of one's deeds and motives, mine might be put thus: the caps were manufactured from remnants of wool which were of no use to me and only encumbered my trunk. i refused to go and deliver them myself. they were put with a lot of other caps made from scraps on equally vicious principles. and, moreover, i neither plowed the land, sowed the grass, fed the sheep, sheared him, cleansed and spun the wool, and so on; neither did i manufacture the needle for the work." the count retreated to his former argument,--that one's personal labor is the only righteous thing which can be given to one's fellow-man; and that the labor must be given unquestioningly when asked for. "but it cannot always be right to work unquestioningly. there are always plenty of people who are glad to get their work done for them. that is human nature." "we have nothing to do with that," he answered. "if a man asks me to build his house or plow his field, i am bound to do it, just as i am bound to give the beggar whatever he asks for, if i have it. it is no business of mine _why_ he asks me to do it." "but suppose the man is lazy, or wants to get his work done while he is idling, enjoying himself, or earning money elsewhere for _vodka_ or what not? i do not object to helping the weak, or those who do not attempt to shirk. one must use discrimination." but count tolstoy persisted that the reason for the request was no business of the man anxious to do his duty by aiding his fellow-men, although his sensible wife came to my assistance by saying that she always looked into the matter before giving help, on the grounds which i had stated. so i attacked from another quarter. "ought not every person to do as much as possible for himself, and not call upon others unless compelled to do so?" "certainly." "very good. i am strong, well, perfectly capable of waiting on myself. but i detest putting on my heavy russian galoshes, and my big cloak; and i never do either when i can possibly avoid it. i have no right to ask you to put on my galoshes, supposing that there were no lackey at hand. but suppose i were to ask it?" "i would do it with pleasure," replied the count, his earnest face relaxing into a smile. "i will mend your boots, also, if you wish." i thanked him, with regret that my boots were whole, and pursued my point. "but you _ought_ to _refuse_. it would be your duty to teach me my duty of waiting on myself. you would have no right to encourage me in my evil ways." we argued the matter on these lines. he started from the conviction that one should follow the example of christ, who healed and helped all without questioning their motives or deserts; i taking the ground that, while christ "knew the heart of man," man could not know the heart of his brother-man,---at least not always on first sight, though afterward he could make a tolerably shrewd guess as to whether he was being used as a cat's-paw for the encouragement of the shiftless. but he stuck firmly to his "resist not evil" doctrine; while i maintained that the very doctrine admitted that it was "evil" by making use of the word at all, hence a thing to be preached and practiced against. perhaps count tolstoy had never been so unfortunate as to meet certain specimens of the human race which it has been my ill-luck to observe; so we both still held our positions, after a long skirmish, and silence reigned for a few moments. then the count asked, with that winning air of good-will and interest which is peculiar to him:-- "have you ever visited a church of the old believers?" "no. they told me that there was one in petersburg, but that i should not be admitted because i wore a bonnet instead of a kerchief, and did not know how to cross myself and bow properly." "i'll take you, if you like," he said. "we will go as guests of the priest. he is a friend of mine." then he told us about it. many years ago, a band of kazaks and their priests migrated across the frontier into turkey because they were "old believers;" that is to say, they belonged to the sect which refused to accept the reforms of errors (which had crept into the service-books and ritual through the carelessness of copyists and ignorance of the proper forms) instituted by the patriarch nikon in the time of peter the great's father, after consulting the greek patriarchs and books. in earlier times, these old believers burned themselves by the thousand. in the present century, this band of kazaks simply emigrated. then came the crimean war. the kazaks set out for the wars, the priest blessed them for the campaign, and prayed for victory against russia. moreover, they went to battle with their flock, and were captured. prisoners of war, traitors to both church and state, these three priests were condemned to residence in a monastery in suzdal. "i was in the army then," said count tolstoy, "and heard of the matter at the time. then i forgot all about it; so did everybody else, apparently. long afterward, an old believer, a merchant in tula, spoke to me about it, and i found that the three priests were still alive and in the monastery. i managed to get them released, and we became friends. one died; one of the others is here in moscow, a very old man now. we will go and see him, but i must find out the hour of the evening service. you will see the ritual as it was three hundred years ago." "you must not utter a word, or smile," said one of the company. "they will think that you are ridiculing them, and will turn you out." "oh, no," said the count. "still, it is better not to speak." "i have had some experience," i remarked. "last sunday, at the saviour cathedral, i asked my mother if i should hold her heavy fur coat for her; and she smiled slightly as she said, 'no, thank you.' a peasant heard our foreign tongue, saw the smile, and really alarmed us by the fierce way in which he glared at us. we only appeased his wrath by bowing low when the priest came out with the incense." so that plan was made, and some others. when we were descending the stairs, count tolstoy came out upon the upper landing, which is decorated with the skin of the big bear which figures in one of his stories, and called after us:-- "shall you be ashamed of my dress when i come to the hotel for you?" "i am ashamed that you should ask such a question," i answered; and he laughed and retreated. i allowed the lackey to put on my galoshes and coat, as usual, by the way. the next afternoon there came a series of remarkable knocks upon our door, like a volley of artillery, which carried me across the room in one bound. servants, messengers, and the like, so rarely knock in russia that one gets into the way of expecting to see the door open without warning at any moment, when it is not locked, and rather forgets what to do with a knock when a caller comes directly to one's room and announces himself in the ordinary way. there stood count tolstoy. he wore a peasant's sheepskin coat (_tulup_). the _tulup_, i will explain, is a garment consisting of a fitted body and a full, ballet skirt, gathered on the waist line and reaching to the knees. the wool is worn on the inside. the tanned leather exterior varies, when new, from snow white to gray, pale or deep yellow, or black, according to taste. a little colored chain-stitching in patterns on the breast and round the neck gives firmness where required. in this case the _tulup_ was of a deep yellow hue; over it streamed his gray beard; peasant boots of gray felt, reaching to the knee, and a gray wool cap of domestic manufacture completed his costume. "it is too cold for our expedition, and i am afraid that i started a little late also," he said, as he divested himself of his sheepskin. "i will find out the exact hour of service, and we will go on christmas eve." it was only to degrees below zero fahrenheit, and i felt inclined to remonstrate. but it is useless to argue with a russian about the thermometer; and, moreover, i discovered that the count had come all the long way on foot, and was probably afraid of freezing us. i politely but not quite truthfully agreed that christmas eve was a better time. presently he proposed to go to the shop where books for popular reading are published by the million at from one and a half to five kopeks. he had business there in connection with some popular editions of the masterpieces of all ages and literatures. the temperature of our room was degrees, but the count's felt boots and a cardigan jacket, worn over his ordinary costume of dark blue trousers and strap-belted blouse, made him uncomfortable, and he sought coolness in the hall while we donned our outdoor garments. the only concession in the way of costume which i could make to suit the occasion was to use a wool instead of a fur cap. this was not sufficient to prevent us from being a remarkable trio in the eyes of all beholders, beginning with the real _muzhik_ ("boots") and the waiter, who were peering round corners in disapproval. our appearance at the door effected a miracle. i could not believe my ears, but not one of the numerous cabbies standing in front of the hotel opened his lips to offer his services. ordinarily, we had to run the gauntlet of offers. on this occasion the men simply ranged themselves in a silent, gaping row, and let us pass in peace. i had not supposed that anything could quell a russian cabby's tongue. did they recognize the count? i doubt it. i had been told that every one in moscow knew him and his costume; but diligent inquiry of my cabbies always elicited a negative. in one single instance the man added: "but the count's a good gentleman and a very intimate friend of a chum of mine!" "are you a good walker?" asked the count, as he plied his thick stick, evidently recently cut in the grove adjoining his house. "i walk everywhere myself. i never ride; i can't, for i never have any money." i announced myself as a crack pedestrian,--but not when burdened with russian coat and galoshes. and i added: "i hope that you do not expect us to walk all those versts to church, because we must stand through the whole service afterward; they would be too strict to allow us chairs." "we will go in the horse-cars, then," he replied. "but this constant use of horses is a relic of barbarism. as we are growing more civilized, in ten years from now horses will have gone out of use entirely. but i am sure that, in enlightened america, you do not ride so much as we do here." familiar as i am with count tolstoy's theories, this was a brand-new one to me. i thought of several answers. bicycles i rejected as a suggestion, because the physical labor seems to be counterbalanced by the cost of the steel steed. i also restrained myself from saying that we were coming to look upon horses as a rather antiquated, slow, and unreliable mode of locomotion. i did not care to destroy the count's admiration for american ways too suddenly and ruthlessly, so i said:-- "i think that people ride more and more, with us, every year. if they do not ride even more than they do, it is because we have not these thousands of delightful and cheap carriages and sledges. and how are people to get about, how are burdens to be carried, how is the day long enough, if one goes everywhere on foot? are the horses to be left to people the earth, along with the animals which we now eat and which we must give up eating?" "that will regulate itself. it is only those who have nothing to do who have no time to do it in, and must be carried, in all haste, from place to place. busy people always have time for everything." and the count proceeded to develop this argument. the foundation, of course, was the same as for his other doctrines,--the dependence on one's self, freeing others from bondage to his wants and whims. the principle is excellent; but it would be easier for most of us to resist the temptation to do otherwise on a desert island, than to lead such a robinson crusoe and physical encyclopedic existence in a city of today. this is almost the only argument which i felt capable of offering in opposition. thus we discussed, as we walked along the streets of china town. when the sidewalk was narrow, the count took to the gutter. and so we came to the old wall and the place where there is a perennial market, which bears various names,--the pushing market, the louse market, and so on, --and which is said to be the resort of thieves and receivers of stolen goods. strangers always hit upon it the first thing. we had ventured into its borders alone, had chatted with a cobbler, inspected the complete workshop on the sidewalk, priced the work,--"real, artistic, high-priced jobs were worth thirty to forty kopeks,"--had promised to fetch our boots to be repaired with tacks and whipcord,--"when they needed it,"--and had received an unblushing appeal for a bottle of _vodka_ in which to drink the health of ourselves and the cobblers. with true feminine faith in the efficacy of a man's presence, we now enjoyed the prospect of going through the middle of it, for its entire length. i related the cobbler episode to explain why i did not give the count a job, and the count seemed to find no little difficulty in not laughing outright. imagine a very broad street, extending for several blocks, flanked on one side by respectable buildings, on the other by the old, battlemented city wall, crowned with straggling bushes, into which are built tiny houses with a frontage of two or three windows, and the two stories so low that one fancies that he could easily touch their roofs. these last are the real old moscow merchant houses of two or three hundred years ago. they still serve as shops and residences, the lower floor being crammed with cheap goods and old clothes of wondrous hues and patterns, which overflow upon the very curbstone. the signs of the fur stores, with their odd pictures of peasant coats and fashionable mantles, add an advertisement of black sheepskins which precisely resemble rudely painted turtles. in the broad, place-like street surged a motley, but silent and respectful crowd. a russian crowd always is a marvel of quietness,--as far down as the elbows, no farther! along the middle of the place stood rows of rough tables, boxes, and all sorts of receptacles, containing every variety of bread and indescribable meats and sausages. men strolled about with huge brass teapots of _sbiten_ (a drink of honey, laurel leaves, spices, etc.), steaming hot. men with trays suspended by straps from their necks offered "delicious" snacks, meat patties kept hot in hot-water boxes, served in a gaudy saucer and flooded with hot bouillon from a brass flask attached to their girdles behind; or sandwiches made from a roll, split, buttered, and clapped upon a slice of very red, raw-looking sausage, fresh from the water-box. but we did not feel hungry just then, or thirsty. "there are but two genuine russian titles," said the count, as we walked among the merchants, where the women were dressed like the men in sheepskin coats, and distinguished only by a brief scrap of gay petticoat, and a gay kerchief instead of a cap on the head, while some of the dealers in clothing indulged in overcoats and flat caps with visors, of dark blue cloth. "now, if i address one of these men, he will call me _batiushka_, and he will call you _matushka_."* * a respectfully affectionate diminutive, equivalent to _dear little father, dear little mother_. we began to price shoes, new and old, and so forth, with the result which the count had predicted. "you can get very good clothing here," the count remarked, as a man passed us, his arm passed through the armholes of a pile of new vests. "these mittens," exhibiting the coarse, white-fingered mittens which he wore, piles of the same and stockings to match being beside us, "are very stout and warm. they cost only thirty kopeks. and the other day, i bought a capital shirt here, for a man, at fifty kopeks" (about twenty-five cents). i magnanimously refrained from applying to that shirt the argument which had been used against my suggestion in regard to giving bread. this market goes on every day in the year, hot or cold, rain, sun, or shine. it is a model of neatness. roofs improvised from scraps of canvas protect the delicate (?) eatables during inclement weather. in very severe weather the throng is smaller, the first to beat a retreat being, apparently, the tatars in their odd _kaftans_ "cut goring," as old women say, who deal in old clothes, lambskins, and "beggars' lace." otherwise, it is always the same. our publisher's shop proved to be closed, in accordance with the law, which permits trading--in buildings--only between twelve and three o'clock on sundays. on our way home the count expressed his regret at the rapid decline of the republican idea in america, and the surprising growth of the baneful "aristocratic"--not to say snobbish--sense. his deductions were drawn from articles in various recent periodical publications, and from the general tone of the american works which had come under his observation. i have heard a good deal from other russians about the snobbishness of americans; but they generally speak of it with aversion, not, as did count tolstoy, with regret at a splendid opportunity missed by a whole nation. i am sorry to say that we never got our expedition to the old believers' church, or the others that were planned. two days later, the count was taken with an attack of liver complaint, dyspepsia,--caused, i am sure, by too much pedestrian exercise on a vegetable diet, which does not agree with him,--and a bad cold. we attended christmas eve service in the magnificent new cathedral of the saviour, and left moscow before the count was able to go out-of-doors again, though not without seeing him once more. i am aware that it has become customary of late to call count tolstoy "crazy," or "not quite right in the head," etc. the inevitable conclusion of any one who talks much with him is that he is nothing of the sort; but simply a man with a hobby, or an idea. his idea happens to be one which, granting that it ought to be adopted by everybody, is still one which is very difficult of adoption by anybody,--peculiarly difficult in his own case. and it is an uncomfortable theory of self-denial which very few people like to have preached to them in any form. add to this that his philosophical expositions of his theory lack the clearness which generally--not always--results from a course of strict preparatory training, and we have more than sufficient foundation for the reports of his mental aberration. on personal acquaintance he proves to be a remarkably earnest, thoroughly convinced, and winning man, although he does not deliberately do or say anything to attract one. his very earnestness is provocative of argument.* * from _the independent_. viii. count tolstoy at home. on one winter's day in moscow, the countess tolstoy said to us: "you must come and visit us at yasnaya polyana next summer. you should see russian country life, and you will see it with us. our house is not elegant, but you will find it plain, clean, and comfortable." such an invitation was not to be resisted. when summer came, the family wrote to say that they would meet us at the nearest station, where no carriages were to be had by casual travelers, if we would notify them of our arrival. but the weather had been too bad for country visits, and we were afraid to give fate a hint of our intentions by announcing our movements; moreover, all the trains seemed to reach that station at a very late hour of the night. we decided to make our appearance from another quarter, in our own conveyance, on a fair day, and long before any meal. if it should prove inconvenient for the family to receive us, they would not be occasioned even momentary awkwardness, and our retreat would be secured. we had seen enough of the charmingly easy russian hospitality to feel sure of our ground otherwise. accordingly, we set out for tula on a june day that was dazzling with sunshine and heat, after the autumnal chill of the recent rains. as we progressed southward from moscow the country was more varied than north of it, with ever-changing vistas of gently sloping hills and verdant valleys, well cultivated, and dotted with thatched cottages which stood flatter on the ground here than where wood is more plentiful. the train was besieged at every station, during the long halts customary on russian railways, by hordes of peasant children with bottles of rich cream and dishes of fragrant wild strawberries. the strawberries cost from three to four cents a pound,--not enough to pay for picking,-- and the cream from three to five cents a bottle. halfway to tula the train crosses the river oka, which makes so fine a show when it enters the volga at nizhni novgorod, and which even here is imposing in breadth and busy with steamers. it was not far from here that an acquaintance of mine one day overtook a wayfarer. he was weather-beaten and travel-stained, dressed like a peasant, and carried his boots slung over his shoulder. but there was something about him which, to her woman's eye, seemed out of keeping with his garb. she invited him to take advantage of her carriage. he accepted gladly, and conversed agreeably. it appeared that it was count tolstoy making the journey between his estate and moscow. his utterances produced such an effect upon her young son that the lad insisted upon making his next journey on foot also. we reached tula late in the evening. the guidebook says, in that amusing german fashion on which a chapter might be written, that "the town lies fifteen minutes distant from the station." ordinarily, that would mean twice or thrice fifteen minutes. but we had a touch of our usual luck in an eccentric cabman. vanka--that is, johnny--set out almost before we had taken our seats; we clutched his belt for support, and away we flew through the inky darkness and fathomless dust, outstripping everything on the road. we came to a bridge; one wheel skimmed along high on the side rail, the loose boards rattled ominously beneath the other. there are no regulations for slow driving on russian bridges beyond those contained in admonitory proverbs and popular legends. one's eyes usually supply sufficient warning by day. but vanka was wedded to the true russian principle, and proceeded in his headlong course _na avos_ (on chance). in vain i cried, "this is not an obstacle race!" he replied cheerfully, "it is the horse!" we were forced to conclude that we had stumbled upon the hero of count tolstoy's story, kholstomir, in that gaunt old horse, racing thus by inspiration, and looking not unlike the portrait of kholstomir in his sad old age, from the hand of the finest animal-painter in russia, which, with its companion piece, kholstomir in his proud youth, hangs on the wall in the count's moscow house. our mad career ended at what vanka declared to be the best hotel; the one recommended by the guidebook had been closed for years, he said. i, who had not found the guide-book infallible, believed him, until he landed us at one which looked well enough, but whose chief furnishing was smells of such potency that i fled, handkerchief clapped to nose, while the limp waiter, with his jaw bound up like a figure from a german picture-book, called after me that "perhaps the drains _were_ a little out of order." thrifty vanka, in hopes of a commission, or bent upon paying off a grudge, still obstinately refused to take us to the hotel recommended; but a hint of application to the police decided him to deposit us at another door. this proved to be really the best house in town, though it does not grace the printed list. it was on the usual plan of inns in russian country towns. there was the large, airy dining-room, with clean lace curtains, polished floor, and table set with foliage plants in fancy pots; the bedrooms, with single iron beds, reservoir washstands, and no bed linen or towels without extra charge. the next morning we devoted to the few sights of the town. the kremlin, on flat ground and not of imposing size, makes very little impression after the moscow kremlin; but its churches exhibit some charming new fancies in onion-shaped cupolas which we had not noticed elsewhere, and its cathedral contains frescoes of a novel sort. in subject they are pretty equally divided between the song of solomon and the ecumenical councils, with a certain number of saints, of course, though these are fewer than usual. the artist was evidently a man who enjoyed rich stuffs of flowered patterns, and beautiful women. the imperial firearms factory we did not see. we had omitted to obtain from the minister of war that permission without which no foreigner of either sex can enter, though russians may do so freely, and we did not care enough about it to await the reply to a telegram. we contented ourselves with assuring the officer in charge that we were utter simpletons in the matter of firearms, afraid of guns even when they were not loaded,--i presume he did not understand that allusion,--and that it was pure curiosity of travelers which had led us to invade his office. however, there was no dearth of shops where we could inspect all the wares in metal for which this russian birmingham has been celebrated ever since the industry was founded by men from holland, in the sixteenth century. in the matter of _samovars_, especially, there is a wide range of choice in this cradle of "the portable domestic hearth," although there are only two or three among the myriad manufacturers whose goods are famed for that solidity of brass and tin which insures against dents, fractures, and poisoning. during the morning we ordered round a _troika_ from the posting-house. it did not arrive. probably it was asleep, like most other things on that warm day. it was too far off to invite investigation, and sallying forth after breakfast to hire an _izvostchik_, i became a blessed windfall to a couple of bored policemen, who waked up a cabman for me and took a kindly interest in the inevitable bargaining which ensued. while this was in progress, up came two dusty and tattered "pilgrims,"--"religious tramps" will designate their character with perfect accuracy,--who were sufficiently wide awake to beg. i positively had not a kopek in change; but not even a russian beggar would believe that. i parried the attack. "i'm not an orthodox christian, my good men. i am sure that you do not want money from a heretic." "never mind; i'm a bachelor," replied one of them bravely and consolingly. when we had all somewhat recovered from this, the policemen, catching the spirit of the occasion, explained to the men that i and my money were extremely dangerous to the orthodox, both families and bachelors, especially to pious pilgrims to the shrines, such as they were, and they gently but firmly compelled the men to move on, despite their vehement protestations that they were willing to run the risk and accept the largest sort of change from the heretic. but i was obdurate. i knew from experience that for five kopeks, or less, i should receive thanks, reverences to the waist or even to the ground; but that the gift of more than five kopeks would result in a thankless, suspicious stare, which would make me feel guilty of some enormous undefined crime. this was count tolstoy's experience also. we devoted ourselves to cabby once more. such a winning fellow as that vanka was, from the very start! after i had concluded the bargain for an extra horse and an apron which his carriage lacked, he persuaded me that one horse was enough--at the price of two. to save time i yielded, deducting twenty-five cents only from the sum agreed on, lest i should appear too easily cheated. that sense of being ridiculed as an inexperienced simpleton, when i had merely paid my interlocutor the compliment of trusting him, never ceased to be a pain and a terror to me. the friendly policemen smiled impartially upon vanka and us, as they helped to pack us in the drosky. tula as we saw it on our way out, and as we had seen it during our morning stroll, did not look like a town of sixty-four thousand inhabitants, or an interesting place of residence. it was a good type of the provincial russian town. there were the broad unpaved, or badly paved, dusty streets. there were the stone official buildings, glaring white in the sun, interspersed with wooden houses, ranging from the pretentious dwelling to the humble shelter of logs. for fifteen versts (ten miles) after we had left all these behind us, we drove through a lovely rolling country, on a fine macadamized highway leading to the south and to kieff. the views were wide, fresh, and fair. hayfields, plowed fields, fields of green oats, yellowing rye, blue-flowered flax, with birch and leaf trees in small groves near at hand, and forests in the distance, varied the scene. evergreens were rarer here, and oak-trees more plentiful, than north of moscow. the grass by the roadside was sown thickly with wild flowers: canterbury bells, campanulas, yarrow pink and white, willow-weed (good to adulterate tea), yellow daisies, spiraea, pinks, corn-flowers, melilot, honey-sweet galium, yellow everlasting, huge deep-crimson crane's-bill, and hosts of others. throughout this sweet drive my merry _izvostchik_ delighted me with his discourse. it began thus. i asked, "did he know count tolstoy?" "did he know count tolstoy? everybody knew him. he was the first gentleman in the empire [!]. there was not another such man in all the land." "could he read? had he read the count's 'tales'?" "yes. he had read every one of the count's books that he could lay his hands on. did i mean the little books with the colored covers and the pictures on the outside?" (he alluded to the little peasant "tales" in their original cheap form, costing two or three cents apiece.) "unfortunately they were forbidden, or not to be had at the tula shops, and though there were libraries which had them, they were not for such as he."* * at this time, in moscow, the sidewalk bookstalls, such as this man would have been likely to patronize, could not furnish a full set of the _tales_ in the cheap form. the venders said that they were "forbidden;" but since they openly displayed and sold such as they had, and since any number of complete sets could be obtained at the publishers' hard by, the prohibition evidently extended only to the issue of a fresh edition. meanwhile, the _tales_ complete in one volume were not forbidden. this volume, one of the set of the author's works published by his wife, cost fifty kopeks (about twenty-five cents), not materially more than the other sort. as there was a profit to the family on this edition, and none on the cheap edition, the withdrawal of the latter may have been merely a private business arrangement, to be expected under the circumstances, and the cry of "prohibition" may have been employed as a satisfactory and unanswerable tradesman's excuse for not being supplied with the goods desired. "how had they affected him? why, he had learned to love all the world better. he knew that if he had a bit of bread he must share it with his neighbor, even if he did find it hard work to support his wife and four small children. had such a need arisen? yes; and he had given his children's bread to others." (he pretended not to hear when i inquired why he had not given his own share of the bread.) "was he a more honest man than before? oh, yes, yes, indeed! he would not take a kopek from any one unless he were justly entitled to it." "and count tolstoy! a fine man, that! the emperor had conferred upon him the right to release prisoners from the jail,--had i noticed the big jail, on the left hand as we drove out of town?" (i took the liberty to doubt this legend, in strict privacy.) "tula was a very bad place; there were many prisoners. men went to the bad there from the lack of something to do." (this man was a philosopher, it seemed.) so he ran on enthusiastically, twisting round in his seat, letting his horse do as it would, and talking in that soft, gentle, charming way to which a dozen adjectives would fail to do justice, and which appears to be the heritage of almost every russian, high or low. it was an uncomfortable attitude for us, because it left us nowhere to put our smiles, and we would not for the world have had him suspect that he amused us. but the gem of his discourse dropped from his lips when i asked him what, in his opinion, would be the result if count tolstoy could reconstruct the world on his plan. "why, naturally," he replied, "if all men were equal, i should not be driving you, for example. i should have my own horse and cow and property, and i should do no work!" i must say that, on reflection, i was not surprised that he should have reached this rather astonishing conclusion. i have no doubt that all of his kind--and it is not a stupid kind, by any means--think the same. i tried to tell him about america, where we were all equals in theory (i omitted "theory"), and yet where some of us still "drive other people," figuratively speaking. but he only laughed and shook his head, and said he did not believe that all men were equal in such a land any more than they were in russia. that was the sort of wall against which i was always being brought up, with a more or less painful bump, when i attempted to elucidate the institutions of this land of liberty. he seemed to have it firmly fixed in his brain that, although count tolstoy worked in the fields "like one of us poor brethren," he really did no work whatever. thus did i obtain a foretaste of the views held by the peasant class upon the subject of count tolstoy's scheme of reformation, since this man was a peasant himself from one of the neighboring villages, and an average representative of their modes of thought. at last we reached the stone gateposts which mark the entrance to the park of yasnaya polyana (clearfield), and drove up the formerly splendid and still beautiful avenue of huge white birch-trees, from whose ranks many had fallen or been felled. the avenue terminated near the house in hedges of lilacs and acacias. most of the family were away in the fields, or bathing in the river. but we were cordially received, assured that our visit was well timed and that there were no guests, and were installed in the room of the count's eldest son, who was at his business in st. petersburg. then i paid and dismissed the beaming vanka, whose name chanced to be alexei, adding liberal "tea-money" for his charming manners and conversation. my sympathy with the hardship of being unable to procure books had moved me so deeply that i had already asked the man for his address, and had promised to send him a complete set of the count's "tales" from moscow. we parted with the highest opinion of each other. alas! a day or two later one of the count's daughters happened to inquire how much i had paid for the carriage, probably in consequence of former experiences, and informed me that i had given just twice as much as any cabman in tula would have been glad to take. (the boredom of those policemen must have been relieved by another smile--behind our backs.) then i repeated my conversation with that delicately conscientious _izvostchik_, nurtured on the "tales," and mentioned my promise. even the grave count was forced to laugh, and i declared that i should be afraid to send the set of books, for fear of the consequences. when we were ready, being unfamiliar with the house, we asked the maid to conduct us to the countess. she took this in its literal sense, and ushered us into the bedroom where the countess was dressing, an introduction to country life which was certainly informal enough. we dined at a long table under the trees at a little distance from the house. the breeze sifted the tiny papery birch seeds into our soup and water. clouds rolled up, and at every threat of the sky we grasped our plates, prepared to make a dash for the house. the count, who had been mowing, appeared at dinner in a grayish blouse and trousers, and a soft white linen cap. he looked even more weather-beaten in complexion than he had in moscow during the winter, if that were possible. his broad shoulders seemed to preserve in their enhanced stoop a memory of recent toil. his manner, a combination of gentle simplicity, awkward half-conquered consciousness, and half-discarded polish, was as cordial as ever. his piercing gray-green-blue eyes had lost none of their almost saturnine and withal melancholy expression. his sons were clad in the pretty blouse suits of coarse gray linen which are so common in russia in the summer, and white linen caps. after dinner, on that first evening, the countess invited us to go to the fields and see her husband at work. he had not observed the good old recipe, "after dinner, rest awhile," but had set off again immediately, and we had been eager to follow him. we hunted for him through several meadows, and finally came upon him in a sloping orchard lot, seated under the trees, in a violent perspiration. he had wasted no time, evidently. he was resting, and chatting with half a dozen peasants of assorted ages. it appeared that he had made a toilet for dinner, since he now wore a blue blouse faded with frequent washing, and ornamented with new dark blue patches on the shoulders. it was the same blouse with which repin's portrait of him engaged in plowing had already made us familiar. we talked with the peasants. they remained seated, and gave no greeting. i do not think they would have done so on any other estate in russia. it is not that the count has inspired his humble neighbors with a higher personal sense of independence and the equality of man; all russian peasants are pretty well advanced along that path already, and they possess a natural dignity which prevents their asserting themselves in an unpleasant manner except in rare cases. when they rise or salute, it is out of politeness, and with no more servility than the same act implies in an officer of the guards in presence of a court dame. the omission on this occasion interested me as significant. the conversation turned upon the marriage of one of the younger men, which was to come off in a neighboring village two days later, at the conclusion of the fast of saint peter and saint paul. a middle-aged peasant took up the subject in a rather unpleasant and not very respectful manner, saying that he saw no use for priests, who had everything provided for them (_na gatovayu ruku_), and charged so high for baptizing and marrying. "they demand seven rubles for marrying this fellow," said he. "i'll do it for a ruble, and be glad to." "if it is so easy, go pass your examinations and become a priest at once," replied the countess. "i don't know enough for that." "then go hire yourself out as a clown. you are always making bad jokes." the man was subdued. the count took no part in this conversation, and looked somewhat disturbed when the other men joined disagreeably in the laugh against their comrade. he turned the subject. "look at the oldest of these men," he said to us in english. "he has lost the first joint of all the fingers on one hand from frost." he was a weak-looking, withered little man, but when they began to mow again, at the count's suggestion, he grasped his scythe as well as any of them. the scythes were short, thick, straight, looked very heavy, and were set on very long, straight handles, so that it was not necessary to stoop in mowing. we watched the party for a while. the count made good progress over the uneven ground and thin grass, as though he were used to the work which he has described so inimitably in "anna karenin." (another reminder of this book is the old nurse of levin, who still lives on the place, has charge of the dogs because she is fond of animals, and carries her mania to the extent of feeding and petting the black beetles. the grave of karl ivanovitch, the tutor in "childhood, boyhood, youth," which lies in the cemetery a mile or two distant, is another memento of his writings.) as we strolled back to the house, we paused to look at the long white stables, the thatched granary with walls of wattled tree boughs, and other farm buildings. in the space between the house and the dining-table we found the children, with their cousins, the french tutor, and the english governess, engaged in a game of ball called _wapta_, which involves much running and some skill. to this table the _samovar_ was brought about half past seven, and the early tea, the children's tea, was served at twilight in the open air heavy with the perfume of the linden-trees. late tea was always served in the house, in the large hall, accompanied by various viands, and by wild strawberries fetched by the peasant children. that evening the count talked to me chiefly about the pamphlets on the hopedale community and the peace doctrines advocated by adin ballou, which had been sent to him shortly before from america. he had then learned for the first time that his principles in that direction had been anticipated, and he seemed to be genuinely gratified to know that this was the case. he prophesied that this movement in favor of non-resistance would attract much more attention in the future than it has attracted in the past. the fate of mr. ballou's community did not seem to shake his faith. naturally, the house was the first point which engaged our attention. in , count tolstoy, being then thirty-two years of age, made up his mind unalterably that he would never marry. all the world knows that when the count has irrevocably determined upon anything he immediately furnishes substantial proof of his convictions. on this occasion his demonstration took the form of selling the manor house, which was taken down and set up again on another estate in the same government by the purchaser. the wings of the former house alone remained, detached buildings, such as were used in the olden days to accommodate the embroiderers, weavers, peasant musicians and actors of the private troupes kept by wealthy grandees, as a theatre, or as extra apartments. the count occupied one of these wings. two years later, he changed his mind and married. he brought his beautiful bride of half his age to this tiny wing,--it chanced to be tiny in this case,--and there she lived for seventeen years. the horrible loneliness of it, especially in winter, with not a neighbor for miles, unless one reckon the village at the park gate, which could not have furnished anything but human beings, and never a congenial companion for her! needless to say that she never had on a low-bodied gown, never went to the theatre or a ball, in all her fair young life; and to the loneliness of the country must be added the absolute loneliness during the absences of the count, who had much reading to do in moscow for the historical portions of his great war drama. when he got tired of his village school, of his experiments upon the infant peasant mind, of things in general, he could and did go away for rest. the countess did not. decidedly, the countess sophia tolstoy is one of those truly feminine heroines who are cast into shadow by a brilliant light close to them, but a heroine none the less in more ways than need be mentioned. her self-denial and courage gave to the world "war and peace" and "anna karenin;" and she declares that were it to do over again she would not hesitate a moment. the public owes the count's wife a great debt of gratitude, and not of reproaches, for bravely opposing his fatal desire to live in every detail the life of a peasant laborer. can any one blessed with the faintest particle of imagination fail to perceive how great a task it has been to withstand him thus for his own good; to rear nine healthy, handsome, well-bred children out of the much larger family which they have had; to bear the entire responsibility of the household and the business? she remarked, one day, that there was no crying need for the russian nobility to follow her husband's teachings and give away all their goods in order to be on a level with the peasants. plenty of them would soon attain that blissful state of poverty in the natural course of things, since they were not only growing poorer every year, but the distribution of inheritances among the numerous children was completing the work, and very many would be reduced to laboring with their hands for a living. this is perfectly true. there is no law of primogeniture in russia. the one established by peter the great having produced divers and grievous evils, besides being out of harmony with the russian character, it was withdrawn. all the male children share equally in the father's estate as in title. the female children receive by law only an extremely small portion of the inheritance, but their dowry is not limited. among the count's most ardent followers is one of his daughters. she does everything for herself, according to his teachings, in a manner which american girls, in even moderately well-to-do families, would never dream of. she works for the peasants in various ways, and carries out her father's ideas in other matters as far as possible. her spartan (or tolstoyan) treatment of herself may be of value in character- building, as mortification of the flesh is supposed to be in general. practically, i think the relations between peasants and nobles render her sacrifices unavailing. for example: one of the peasant women having been taken ill,--there was a good deal of sickness in the village,--she went to the hayfield to do the woman's work and prevent the forfeit of fifteen or twenty cents, the price of the day's labor. we strolled out to find her. the thermometer must have stood at degrees f., and although the dry inland heat can be better borne than the same amount of damp heat, it was far from being comfortable weather even for indolent persons. we found her under a tree, resting and drinking cold tea, while she awaited the return, from some errand of their devising, of the peasant women who had been at work with her. she looked wretchedly ill, and we tried to prevail on her to go back to the house with us. but the count (who was not well enough to work) happened along, and as he said nothing she decided to stay and to resume labor at once, since the women seemed to have been detained. as we beat a retreat homeward under that burning sun, we discovered the nature of the peasant women's urgent business. they were engaged in stripping the count's bushes of their fruit and devouring it by the handful. we could not persuade him to interfere. "they want it, or they would not take it," he said. it was none of our business, to be sure, but those strong, muscular women offered such a contrast, in physique and conduct, to the fair, delicate young girl whom we had just left that we felt indignant enough to attack them ourselves, if it would have done any good. the next day his daughter was more seriously ill than the peasant woman whose place she had taken. i should not have felt unhappy to learn that those women had been uncomfortably ill in consequence of their greediness. the count has no longer a school for the peasant children, by the way. the necessity for that is past. but he must have been an original professor. a friend of mine in st. petersburg, who was interested, during the sixties, in the secular sunday-schools for workingmen who could not attend on week days, repeated to me the count's method as imparted to her by himself while visiting the capital. he objected to the rules which compelled the men to be regular in attendance, on the ground that learning must not be acquired thus mechanically, under compulsion, but when the scholar feels an inward impulse. he would not listen to the suggestion that this method would hardly answer when study must be prosecuted on specified days under penalty of eternal ignorance. he said that when he found his peasant pupils indisposed to learn he dismissed the school, went home, and occupied himself in his own affairs. after an interval, more or less long, a scuffling of feet and a rapping would become audible at the door, and small voices would plead: "please, lyeff nikola'itch, we want to study. please, come and teach us." he went, and they made rapid progress because all was purely voluntary. one of the whitened stone wings of the old manor house stands unchanged. it is occupied in summer by the countess's sister and her family. she is a handsome and clever woman, who translates, and who has written some strong short stories. the wing used by the count has been enlarged to meet the requirements of the large family, and yet it is not a great or imposing house. at one end a stone addition, like the original building, contains, on the ground floor, the count's two rooms, which open on an uncovered stone terrace facing the hedge-inclosed lawn, with beds of bright flowers bordering it, and the stately lindens of the grand avenues waving their crests beyond in the direction of the ponds. over these rooms and the vestibule is the hall, indispensable as a dining-room and a play-room for the small children in wet weather and in winter. a wooden addition at the other end furnishes half a dozen rooms for members of the family, the tutor and the maids. near by stand several log cottages,--the bakehouse, the servants' dining-room, and other necessary offices. the count's study is very plain. the walls are in part lined with bookcases; in part they are covered with portraits of relatives and of distinguished persons whom he admires. there are more bookcases in the vestibule, for people are constantly sending him books of every conceivable sort. i imagine that the first copies of every book, pamphlet, and journal on any hobby or "ism," especially from america, find their way to the address of count tolstoy. he showed me some very wild products of the human brain. the hall upstairs has a polished wood floor, as is usual with such rooms, and a set of very simple wicker furniture. portraits of ancestors, some of whom figure in "war and peace," hang upon the walls. a piano, on which the count sometimes plays, and a large table complete the furniture. everything in the house is severely simple. if i take the liberty of going into these details, it is in the interest of justice. the house has been described in print --from imagination, it would seem--as "a castle luxuriously furnished," and the count has been reproached with it. cheap as the furniture is, he grumbled at it when it was purchased; he grumbles at it still, and to me spoke of it as "sinful luxury." but then he cannot be regarded a fair judge of what constitutes luxury. the whole house, outside and in, is modest in the extreme. the park with its avenues of lindens, which were in full bloom during our visit, the ponds and lawns and forest, must have been superb in the time of his grandfather, and even of his mother, from whom he inherited it. a grove and thicket now occupy the site of the former manor, and screen the view of each wing from the other. vegetable gardens and berry patches lie near at hand, and beds of brilliant but not rare flowers enliven the immediate vicinity of the house. the estate is large and fertile, though it does not lie in the famous "black-earth zone." this begins a few miles south of it. plain wholesome food, simple dress, an open-air life without fixed programme, were what we found. in the morning, after drinking tea or coffee, with bread and butter, in the hall, we usually strolled through the lovely forest, filled with flowers and perfumes, to the little river about a mile distant, for a bath. the unpainted board bath-house had seats running along the walls, and steps leading down into the water. a framework supporting thick screens of golden rye straw extended far out over the stream. a door upstream swung open at will for ambitious swimmers. it was a solitary spot. the peasant girls pitching hay in the meadows beyond with three-pronged boughs stripped of their leaves were the only persons we ever saw. clad in their best scarlet cotton _sarafani_ and head kerchiefs, they added greatly to the beauty of the landscape. haying is such easy work compared to the rest of the summer labors, that the best gowns are donned as for a festival. if the boys got ahead of us on those hot mornings, when we had dispensed with every article of clothing not absolutely necessary, we lay in the shadow of the fragrant birches at the top of the hill on the soft, short sward, which seems in russia to grow as thick in dense forests as in open glades, and waited until they could tear themselves from the cool embrace of the stream. then we went in, great and small, but with no bathing-dress. the use of such a garment on such an occasion would be regarded as a sign that one was afflicted with some bodily defect which one was anxious to conceal. by the time we had refreshed ourselves and rambled back, searching for early mushrooms through the forest or the great plantation of birches set out by the count's own hands a quarter of a century before, and grown now to stout and serviceable giants, the twelve o'clock breakfast was ready under the trees. at this informal meal every one sat where he pleased, and helped himself. at dinner, on the contrary, my place was always at the count's left hand. we sat on whatever offered itself. sometimes i had a wooden chair, sometimes a bit of the long bench like a plasterer's horse. once, when some one rose suddenly from the other end of this, i tumbled over on the count and narrowly escaped wrecking his dinner. at no meal did the count ever eat a mouthful of meat, despite urgent persuasion. boiled buckwheat groats, salted cucumbers, black bread, eggs with spinach, tea and coffee, sour _kvas_ (beer made from black bread), and cabbage soup formed the staple of his diet, even when ill, and when most people would have avoided the cucumbers and _kvas_, at least. the family generally met as a whole for the first time at breakfast. the count had been busy at work in the fields, in writing or reading in his study; the boys with their tutor; the countess copying her husband's manuscript and ordering the household. after breakfast every one did what he pleased until dinner. there was riding, driving,--anything that the heat permitted. a second bath, late in the afternoon, was indulged in when it was very hot. the afternoon bathing party generally drove down in a _lineika_, a sort of long jaunting-car with a central bench, not too wide, on which the passengers sit back to back, their feet resting on a narrow footboard which curves over the wheels as a shield. this _lineika_ had also cross-seats at each end, and with judicious packing could be made to hold sixteen persons. as it was upholstered in leather and had no springs, there was some art in keeping one's seat when the three horses were going at full speed over the uneven forest road. after breakfast i sometimes sat under the trees with the countess, and helped her sew on baby ivan's clothes, for the pleasure of her conversation. nothing could be more fascinating. this beautiful woman has not rusted during her long residence in the country. there are few better informed women than she, few better women of business, few women who are so clever and practical. one day, as i was sitting, armed with thimble and needle, waiting for her, the count discovered a hole in his pocket, and asked his niece to mend it for him. she had not her implements. i volunteered,--to do the mending, not to lend the wherewithal. the pocket was of black silk, my thread of white cotton, but that was of no consequence. i seated myself comfortably on the sand, and speedily discovered not one hole, but a row of holes such as wear along the seams of pockets. the count was greatly annoyed at the trouble he was giving me, protested as i began on each new hole, and was very restless. i was finally obliged to speak. "lyeff nikola'itch," i said, "do me the favor to sit still. your reputation as well as mine is involved in this work. it must be done thoroughly and neatly quite as much for your sake as for mine." "how so?" he asked in surprise. "my woman's reputation for neat mending trembles in the balance; and do not you advocate the theory that we should help our fellow-men? you have helped others; it is your turn now to be experimented on. and besides, if the fellow-man obstinately refuses to be helped by others, how are we to do our duty by him? how could you work for others, if they persisted in following out the other half of your doctrine and doing everything for themselves? 'tis plain that you understand how to render services far better than to receive them. reform. submit." the count laughed, with a sort of grim bewilderment in his eye, and behaved in an exemplary manner for the few remaining moments. i mentally thanked fate for providing me with an opportunity for suggesting an object lesson on a point which had puzzled me not a little, and which i had been pining to attack in some form. he did not explain away my difficulties, it is true, but i was satisfied with having presented the other side of the shield to his attention. on another occasion, as we sat under the trees, a peasant came, scythe on shoulder, to complain to the countess of his wrongs. no one ever went to the count, knowing that his wife had full management. peasants who came in a deputation to parley about hiring or buying extra land, and so on, applied directly to her. the comrades of this vasily alexei'itch had got two buckets of _vodka_, and had forced him, who detested liquor, to drink of it. then they had become quarrelsome (he was peaceable), and they had torn his shirt--so! hereupon he flung back his coat, worn in russian fashion with the sleeves hanging, and let his faded red cotton shirt fall from his muscular shoulders, leaving him nude to the waist, save for the cheap little baptismal cross suspended round his neck by a cord. the small boys set up a shout of laughter at his story and his action. the countess rebuked him sharply for such conduct before the children, and refused to interfere in the quarrel. the man pulled his torn shirt over his body and slouched off. that evening, after tea, the count happened to hit upon a couple of mr. rider haggard's books for discussion, and, for the benefit of those in the company who had not read it, gave the chief points of "she" in particularly lively style, which kept us all in laughter. in describing the heroine, he said that "she was clothed in an airy garment, like vasily alexei'itch;" and again that "she dropped her garment, and stood like vasily alexei'itch." he pronounced "she" and other works of haggard "the lowest type of literature," and said that "it was astonishing how so many english people could go wild over them." he seemed to read everything, good and bad, and to possess not only an omnivorous literary appetite, but a wonderful memory for books, even in small details. among the innumerable things which he read were mormon publications, sent him regularly from headquarters. i cannot explain the object of the mormons in making him the point of attack. he thought very highly of the doctrines of the mormons as set forth by themselves, and could not understand why they were "persecuted" in america. no one had ever sent him documents on the other side of the question, and he seemed as ignorant of it as i was of the mormon arguments. in answer to his queries, i told him that the problems involved were too numerous, serious, and complicated for me to enter upon; that the best way, under such circumstances, was for him to read statements set down in black and white by recognized authorities on the subject; and that i would cause books on the matter to be forwarded to him, which i did. but he persisted that our government is in the wrong. "it is a shame," said he, "that in a great and free country like america a community of people should be so oppressed, and not allowed that liberty of which you boast." "you know your dickens well," i answered. "have you any recollection of martin chuzzlewit? you will remember that when martin was in america with mark tapley he saw a slave being sold. mark tapley observed that 'the americans were so fond of liberty that they took liberties with her.' that is, in brief, what ails the mormons. the only argument in favor of them which can possibly be made is that their practice, not their preaching, offers the only solution of your own theory that all women should be married. but that theory has never been advanced in extenuation of their behavior. i offer it to you brand new, as a slight illustration of a very unpleasant subject." one day, during a chat in his study, he had praised dickens. "there are three requisites which go to make a perfect writer," he remarked. "first, he must have something worth saying. second, he must have a proper way of saying it. third, he must have sincerity. dickens had all three of these qualities. thackeray had not much to say; he had a great deal of art in saying it; but he had not enough sincerity. dostoevsky possessed all three requisites. nekrasoff knew well how to express himself, but he did not possess the first quality; he forced himself to say something, whatever would catch the public at the moment, of which he was a very keen judge. as he wrote to suit the popular taste, believing not at all in what he said, he had none of the third requisite." he declared that america had not as yet produced any first-class woman writer, like george eliot and george sand. count tolstoy's latest book at that time was "what to do?" it was much discussed, though not very new. it will be remembered that in the final chapter of that work he argues that woman's whole duty consists in marrying and having as large a family as possible. but, in speaking of mr. howells's "the undiscovered country," which he had just discovered, --it was odd to think he had never heard of mr. howells before,--he remarked, in connection with the shakers, that "it was a good thing that they did not marry." he said this more than once and at some length. i did not like to enter on the subject lest he should go too far, in his earnestness, before the assembled company. therefore i seized an opportunity to ask his wife how he reconciled that remark with his creed that all women should marry. she answered that it certainly was not consistent, but that her husband changed his opinion every two years; and, to my consternation, she instantly appealed to him. he did not go into details, however. he pulled out a letter which he had received from a russian woman, a stranger to him. the writer said: "while acknowledging the justice of your views, i must remark that marriage is a fate which is not possible to every woman. what, then, in your opinion, should a woman who has missed that fate do?" i was interested in his reply, because six months earlier he had advised me to marry. i inquired what answer he intended to send,--that is, if he meant to reply at all. he said that he considered the letter of sufficient importance to merit an answer, and that he should tell her that "every woman who had not married, whatever the reason, ought to impose upon herself the hardest cross which she could devise, and bear it." "and so punish herself for the fault of others, perhaps?" i asked. "no. if your correspondent is a woman of sufficient spirit to impose that cross, she will also have sufficient spirit to retort that very few of us choose our own crosses; and that women's crosses imposed by fate, providence, or whatever one pleases to call it, are generally heavier, more cruel, than any which they could imagine for themselves in the maddest ecstasy of pain-worship. are the shaker women, of whom you approve, also to invent crosses? and how about the shaker men? what is their duty in the matter of invoking suffering?" he made no reply, except that "non-marriage was the ideal state," and then relapsed into silence, as was his habit when he did not intend to relinquish his idea. nevertheless i am convinced he is always open to the influence--quite unconsciously, of course--of argument from any quarter. his changes of belief prove it. these remarks anent the shakers seemed to indicate that another change was imminent; and as the history of his progress through the links of his chain of reasoning was a subject of the greatest interest to me, i asked his wife for it. it cannot be called anything but a linked progress, since the germs--nay, the nearly full-fledged idea--of his present moral and religious attitude can be found in almost all of his writings from the very beginning. when the count married, he had attained to that familiar stage in the spiritual life where men have forgotten, or outgrown, or thoroughly neglected for a long time the religious instruction inculcated upon them in their childhood. there is no doubt that the count had been well grounded in religious tenets and ceremonies; the russian church is particular on this point, and examinations in "the law of god" form part of the conditions for entrance to the state schools. but, having reached the point where religion has no longer any solid grasp upon a man, he did not like to see other people observe even the forms. later on he began a novel, to be called "the decembrists." the decembrists is the name given to the participants in the disorders of , on the accession of the emperor nicholas i. to the throne. among the preparations which he made for this work were excursions taken with the object of acquainting himself with the divers dialects and peculiarities of expression current in the different parts of the empire. these he collected from pilgrims on the highways and byways. "a pilgrim," said the witty countess, "is a man who has grown tired of the jars and the cares and responsibilities of the household; out of patience with the family in general. he feels the necessity, inborn in every russian, for roaming, for getting far away from people, into the country and the forests. so he makes a pilgrimage to some distant shrine. i should like to be a pilgrim myself, but the family ties me down. i feel the need of freshening up my ideas." in these excursions the count came to see how great a part religion plays in the life of the lower classes; and he argued that, in order to get into sympathy with them, one must share their ideas as to religion. accordingly he plunged into it with his customary ardor,--"he has a passionate nature,"--and for several years he attended every church service, observed every rite, kept every fast, and so on. he thought it horrible if those about him did not do the same,--if they neglected a single form. i think it quite probable that he initiated the trouble with his stomach by these fasts. they are nothing to a person who has always been used to them; but when we consider that the longer fasts cover about four solid months,--not to mention the usual abstinence on wednesdays and fridays and the special abstinences,--and that milk, eggs, cheese, and butter are prohibited, as well as other customary articles of food, it is not difficult to imagine the effect of sudden and strict observance upon a man accustomed during the greater part of his life to a meat diet. the vegetable diet in which he now persists only aggravates the evil in one who is afflicted with liver trouble, and who is too old to train his vital economy in fresh paths. his religious ardor lasted until he went to church one day, during the last russo-turkish war, when prayers were offered for the success of the russian army. it suddenly struck him that it was inconsistent with "love your enemies," "love one another," "do not kill," that prayers should be offered for the death of enemies. from that day forth he ceased to go to church, as he had also perceived that the practice of religious forms did not, in reality, bring him much nearer to the peasants, and that one must live among them, work among them, to appreciate their point of view. the only surprising thing about this is that he should never have noticed that the army is prayed for, essentially in the same sense, at every church service. after the petitions for the emperor and the imperial family, the liturgy proceeds, "and we pray for the army, that thou wilt assist them [that is, the imperial family and its army], and subdue all foes and enemies under their feet." perhaps these familiar words came home to him with special force on that particular day, as familiar words sometimes do. possibly it was a special prayer. in any case, the prayer was strictly logical. if you have an army, pray for it; and the only prayer that can be offered is, obviously, not for its defeat. that would be tantamount to praying for the enemy; which might be scriptural, in one way, but would be neither natural, popular, nor further removed from objections of murder than the other. but count tolstoy was logical, also, in another way. once started on this train of thought, most worldly institutions of the present day, beginning with the army, appeared to him opposed to the teaching of christ, on which point no rational man will differ from him. as to the possibility of living the life of christ, or even the advisability of trying it, at this period of the world, that is quite another matter. it is not necessary for me to recapitulate here that which all the world knows already,--the minute details of his belief in personal property, labor, the renunciation of art and science, and so forth. we discussed them. but i neglected my opportunities to worry him with demands for his catechism, which his visitors delight in grinding out of him as though from a machine, when the reading public must be sufficiently informed on that score already. i have endeavored to set down only the special illustrations of his doctrines, out of the rich mass of his conversation. those who have perused attentively his earlier works will have perceived that there is really very little that is absolutely new in these doctrines. they are so strictly the development of ideas which are an integral part of him, through heredity, environment, and personal bias, that the only surprise would be that he should not have ended in this way. community of goods, mutual help, and kindred doctrines are the national birthright of every russian, often bartered, it is true. but long residence in the country among the peasants who do not preach these doctrines, but simply practice them, naturally affected the thoughtful student of humanity though he was of a different rank. he began to announce his theories to the world, and found followers, as teachers of these views generally do,--a proof that they satisfy an instinct in the human breast. solitary country life anywhere is productive of such views. disciples, or "adepts," began to make pilgrimages to the prophet. there is a characteristic, a highly characteristic history of one such who came and established himself in the village at the count's park gate. "this f. was a jew, who did not finish his studies, got led astray by socialists, and joined a community where, like the other members, he lived out of marriage with a young girl student. at last he came across a treatise of lyeff nikolaevitch, and decided that he was wrong and lyeff nikolaevitch right. he removed to yasnaya polyana, married his former mistress, and began to live and work among the peasants." (he first joined the russian church, and one of the count's daughters stood godmother for him.) "his wife worked also; but, with delicate health and two small children to care for, she could do little, through weakness and lack of skill. the peasants laughed at him and at lyeff nikola'itch." mrs. f. came to the countess with her griefs, and the latter helped her with food, clothing, and in other ways. "one day nothing remained in the house to eat but a single crust. f. was ill. his wife, who was also ill and feeble, went off to work. on her return she found no bread. some one had come along begging '_khristi radi_' [for christ's sake], and f. had given him the crust,--with absolute consistency, it must be confessed. this was the end. there was a scene. the wife went back to her friends. f. also gave up, went off to ekaterinoslaff, learned the tailor's trade, and married again!" how he managed this second marriage without committing bigamy, in view of the laws of russia on that point, i am at a loss to understand. "all my husband's disciples," said the countess, "are small, blond, sickly, and homely; all as like one to another as a pair of old boots. you have seen them. x. z.--you know him--had a very pretty talent for verses; but he has ruined it and his mind, and made himself quite an idiot, by following my husband's teachings." the count provided a complement to these remarks in a conversation on russian writers. he said of a certain author; "that man has never been duly appreciated, has never received the recognition which his genius deserves. yet you know how superbly he writes,--or rather, did write. he has spoiled himself now by imitating me. it is a pity." this ingenuous comment is rescued from any tinge of conceit or egotism by its absolute simplicity and truth. the imitation referred to is of the moral "tales" for popular reading of the lower classes, which my cabman had studied. the pity of it is, when so many of the contemporary writers of russia owe their inspiration, their very existence, to turgeneff and tolstoy having preceded them, that a man who possesses personal talent and a delightful individual style should sacrifice them. in his case it is unnecessary. count tolstoy's recognition of this fact is characteristic. the countess's description of the "adepts" was as clever as the rest of her remarks, and absolutely accurate. one of them was at the house for a day or two. (i had seen them elsewhere as well.) he had evidently got himself a new blouse for the visit. it was of coarse blue and white cloth, checked, and so stiff with newness that, having a long slit and only one button, at the neck, i could see the whole of his hairy breast every time i looked at him from the left side. i sympathized with prince k., who being next him at table turned his back on him and ignored him conversationally; which embarrassed the young man extremely. apropos of his shirt, i never saw any one but the count himself wear a shirt that a real peasant would have worn; and i do not believe that even he had one of the characteristic red cotton garments which are the peasant's pride. i found this adept interesting when he sat opposite me, and he incited the count to vivacity. he contributed a very good anecdote illustrative of the count's followers. a man in one of the southern governments--which one is immaterial here --sent a quantity of lithographed copies of five or ten forbidden books (tolstoy's and others) to a disciple of tolstoy in one of the northern governments. in the village of this disciple, some young women students in the higher or university courses for women, and followers of tolstoy, were living for the summer in peasant fashion, and working in the fields, "_to the scornful pity of the peasants_" (i italicize this phrase as remarkable on the lips of an adept.) these young women, having heard of the dispatch by post of the books, and being in the town, thought to do the count's disciple a favor by asking if they had arrived. had they refrained, nothing would have happened and the books would have been delivered without a question. as it was, attention was attracted to the parcel by the inquiry of these girls of eccentric behavior. the fifty or sixty copies were confiscated; the girls' passports were taken from them. the disciple appealed to a relative in high official position in their behalf. the girls were informed, in consequence, that they might hire themselves out to work for this disciple of gentle birth as much as they liked; but they were forbidden to work for or among the peasants. the adventure was not ended when this story was told. whether the students were satisfied with the permission to work i do not know. probably not; their fellow-disciple would not have scorned them as the peasants did, and contradiction, that spice of life to enthusiastic worshipers of impracticable ideas, would have been lacking. in my opinion, the authorities committed an error in judgment. they should have shown more faith in the peasants, the toil, and the girls' unhardened frames. all three elements combined could have been trusted to effect a permanent cure of those disciples by the end of the harvest, had they been gently encouraged not only to work with the peasants but to prove that they were capable of toiling and enduring in precisely the same manner and measure. still the authorities very naturally looked upon the action of the girls as a case of _idti v narod_ (going to the people), in the sense understood by the revolutionary propagandists. their prohibition was based on this ground. in some way we got upon the subject of english things and ways. the count's eyes flashed. "the english are the most brutal nation on earth!" he exclaimed. "along with the zulus, that is to say. both go naked: the zulus all day long, the englishwomen as soon as dinner is served. the english worship their muscle; they think of it, talk of it. if i had time, i should like to write a book on their ways. and then their executions, which they go to see as a pleasure!" i asked which nation was a model, in his opinion. "the french," he answered, which seemed to me inconsistent, when he told of the execution which he had witnessed in paris, where a father had lifted up his little child that it might have a good view of the horrors of the guillotine. "defective as is russian civilization in many respects," he said, "you will never find the russian peasant like that. he abhors deliberate murder, like an execution." "yet he will himself commit murder," i objected. "there has been a perfect flood of murders reported in the newspapers this very spring. those perpetrated in town were all by men of the peasant class; and most of them were by lads under twenty years of age." he insisted that i must have misread the papers. so i proceeded to inquire, "what will a peasant do in case of an execution?" "he will murder, but without premeditation. what he will do in case of an execution i can illustrate for you by something which occurred in this very neighborhood some years ago. "the regimental secretary of a regiment stationed at z. was persecuted by one of his officers, who found fault with him continually, and even placed him under arrest for days at a time, when the man had only obeyed his own orders. at last the secretary's patience failed him, and one day he struck the officer. a court-martial followed. i was chosen to defend him. he was sentenced to death. i appealed to the emperor through madame a.,--you know her. for some reason she spoke to one of the ministers. 'you have not stated the number of his regiment; that is indispensable,' was the reply. evidently this was a subterfuge, that time might be consumed in correspondence, and the pardon might arrive too late. the reason for this was, in all probability, that just at this time a soldier had struck an officer in moscow and had been condemned. if one were pardoned, in justice the other must be also. otherwise discipline would suffer. this coincidence was awkward for the secretary, strong as his case was, and he was shot. "the adjutant's hands trembled so with emotion that he could not apply the bandage to the prisoner's eyes. others tried and gave it up. well, as soon as that man was buried his grave was covered with flowers, crosses, and all sorts of things by the peasants, who came many versts from all directions, as to the grave of a martyr. masses for the dead were ordered there, in uninterrupted succession, by these poor peasants. the feeling was so great and appeared to be spreading to such an extent that the authorities were forced not only to prohibit access to the grave, but even to level it off so that it could not be found. but an englishman! if he were told to cut the throat of his own father and eat him, he would do it." "still, in spite of your very striking illustration, and your doubts as to my having read the papers correctly," i remarked, "i am sure that the russian peasant does, occasionally, murder with premeditation. he is a fine-tempered, much-enduring, admirable fellow, i admit, but he is human. he cannot be so different in this respect from all other races of men. moreover, i have the testimony of a celebrated russian author on my side." "what author? what testimony?" "have you ever read the 'power of darkness'? the amount of deliberation, of premeditation, in any murder is often a matter of opinion; but the murder of the child in the last act of that comedy is surely deliberate enough to admit of no difference of judgment. don't you think that the author supports me?" he gasped at my audacity in quoting his own writings against him, and retreated into the silence which was his resource when he could not or would not answer. put him in a corner and he would refuse to come out. beggars used to come while we were eating out-of-doors; some called themselves "pilgrims." the count would give them a little money, and they would tramp off again. one day, when the birthday of an absent member of the family was being celebrated, and we were drinking healths in _voditchka_ (a sort of effervescent water flavored with fruit juices), we had a distinguished visitor, "prince romanoff." this was the crazy balakhin mentioned in "what to do?" as having had his brain turned by the sight of the luxury in the lives of others. his rags and patches, or rather his conglomeration of patches, surpassed anything we had seen in that line. one of the lads jumped up and gave him a glass of raspberry _voditchka_, telling him that it was rare old wine. the man sipped it, looked through it, and pretended (i am sure that it was mere pretense) to believe that it was wine. he promised us all large estates when the emperor should give him back his own, now wrongfully withheld from him. balakhin stayed about the place, making himself at home with the servants, for twenty-four hours or more. i believe that he strays about among the landed proprietors of the district as a profession. in spite of his willingness to call himself "prince romanoff" as often as any one chose to incite him thereto, this did not impress me as a proof that he was too deranged to earn his own living, with his healthy frame, if he saw fit. i had observed the mania for titles in other persons (not all russians, by any means) who would vigorously resent the imputation that they should be in a lunatic asylum. moreover, this imperial "prince romanoff" never forgot his "manners." he invariably rose when his superiors (or his inferiors, perhaps i should say) approached, like any other peasant, and he looked far more crafty than crazy. as the peasants were all busy haying, we postponed our visit to the village until the afternoon of peter and paul's day, in the hope that we should then find some of them at home. the butler's family were drinking tea on the porch of their neat new log house with a tinned roof, at the end of the village near the park gate. they rose and invited us to honor them with our company and share their meal. we declined, for lack of time. one of the count's daughters had told me of a curious difference existing between the cut of the aprons of maidens and of those of married women. i had been incredulous, and she suggested that i put the matter to the test by asking the first married woman whom we should see. we found a pretty woman, with beautiful brown eyes and exquisite teeth (whose whiteness and soundness are said to be the result of the sour black bread which the peasants eat exclusively), standing at the door of her cottage. "here's your chance!" "show me your window, please," i said. she laughed, and turned her back to me. there was the "window," sure enough. the peasant apron, which is fastened under the armpits, is pretty evenly distributed as to fullness all the way round, and in the case of a maiden falls in straight lines in the back. but the married woman makes hers with a semicircular opening a few inches below the band. the points of the opening are connected by a loop of fringe, a couple of cords not always tied, or anything that comes handy, apparently for ornament. now, when the husband feels moved to demonstrate his affection for his spouse by administering a beating, he is not obliged to fumble and grope among those straight folds for the awkward triangular little opening, quite unsuited to accommodate his fist. he can grasp her promptly by the neck of her chemise and this comfortable semicircle, and not force her to doubt his love by delay and hesitation in expression. i asked the pretty woman if her husband found it very useful. "sometimes," she answered nonchalantly. the russian peasant theory is: "no beating, no jealousy; no jealousy, no love." she offered to sell us a new petticoat similar to the one which she wore. it was of homespun, hard-twisted wool _etamine_ very durable, of a sort which is made, with slight variations, in several governments. ordinarily, in this district, it is of a bright scarlet plaided off with lines of white and yellow. a breadth of dark blue cotton is always inserted in the left side. when a woman is in mourning, the same plaid on a dark blue foundation is used. married women wear coarse chemises and aprons of homespun linen; and their braided hair coiled on top of the head imparts a coronet shape to the gay cotton kerchief which is folded across the brow and knotted at the nape of the neck. young girls wear cotton chemises and aprons and print dresses, all purchased, not home made. it is considered that if a girl performs her due share of the house and field work she will not have time to weave more than enough linen for her wedding outfit, and the purchase of what is needed before that unhappy event is regarded as a certificate of industry. i call it an unhappy event because from the moment of her betrothal the prospective bride wears mourning garments. black beads for the neck are the height of fashion here. the girl's gown, called a _sarafan_, is plaited straight and full into a narrow band, and suspended just below the armpits by cross-bands over the shoulders. she prefers for it plain scarlet cotton (_kumatch_), or scarlet printed in designs of yellow, white, and green. her head kerchief matches in style. her betrothal gown and kerchief have a dark blue or black ground with colored figures. the bargain for the petticoat was closed at two rubles, its real worth, subject to "sister's approbation,"--an afterthought on the part of the pretty woman. when she brought it to us at the house, a couple of hours later, modestly concealed under her apron, and with sister's blessing, she demanded half a ruble more, because we had not beaten her down, and perhaps also as an equivalent for sister's consent. she showed us her cottage, which was luxurious, since it had a brick half for winter use, exactly corresponding to the summer half of logs. behind, in a wattled inclosure, were the animals and farming implements. it was not a cheerful dwelling, with its tiny windows, wall benches to serve as seats and beds, pine table, images in the corner, great whitewashed oven, in which the cooking was done, and on which, near the ceiling, they could sleep, and sheepskin coats as well as other garments lying about. practically, a small russian village consists of one street, since those peasants who live on the occasional parallel or side lanes are "no account folks," and not in fashion. it seemed inconsistent that ranks and degrees should exist in peasant villages; but human nature is much the same in the country as in capitals, even in the village of the man who advocates absolute equality of poverty, and despite the views of my merry _izvostchik_ alexei. the aged mother of the woman to whom the count's daughter was carrying a gift of a new kerchief was at home, and bestowed some smacking kisses in thanks. the old woman even ran after us to discharge another volley of gratitude on the young countess's pretty cheeks. in the evening we set out once more for the village, to see the choral dances and hear the songs with which the peasants celebrate their holidays. a dozen or so of small peasant girls, pupils of the count's daughter, who had invited themselves to swing on the giant steps on the lawn opposite the count's study windows, abandoned their amusement and accompanied us down the avenue, fairly howling an endless song in shrill voices that went through one's nerves. as we emerged from the shadows of the avenue and proceeded up the broad, grassy village street to the place of assembly, the children dispersed. a crowd was collected at a fairly level spot ready for the dancing. all wore their gayest clothes. the full moon, with brilliant jupiter close beside her, furnished an ideally picturesque light, and displayed the scene to the greatest advantage. low gray cottages framed the whole. it was a grand occasion. one of the count's sons had brought his violin, his cousin had a _balalaika_, a triangular peasant guitar, and one of the lackeys had his harmonica, to play for the dancing. the young men sat on a rough improvised bench; the servant stood beside them. the peasants seemed shy. they hesitated and argued a good deal over beginning each song. finally they joined hands and circled slowly to the tones of the generally monotonous airs. some of the melodies were lively and pleasing, but the great russian peasant woman's voice is undeniably shrill. the dancing, when some bold peasant ventured to enter the circle, after much urging and pushing, was far tamer and more unvarying than i had seen elsewhere. we felt very grateful to our maid, tatiana, for stepping forward with spirit and giving us a touch of the genuine thing. alas! the fruits of tatiana's civilization were but too visible in her gown of yellow print flounced to the waist and with a tight-fitting bodice. the peasant costume suits the dance far better. her partner was unworthy of her, and did not perform the squat-and-leap step in proper form. she needed fomitch, the butler, who had been obliged to stay at home and serve tea; to his regret, no doubt, since we were informed that "he danced as though he had ten devils in his body." as we saw no prospect of any devils at all,--and they are very necessary for the proper dash in russian dancing,--we strolled home, past the pond where the women were wont to wash their clothes, and up the dark avenue. perhaps the requisite demons arrived after our departure. it was a characteristic scene, and one not readily to be forgotten. one of the most enjoyable incidents of the evening was the rehearsal of the maid's coquettish steps and graces given by one of our young hostesses for the benefit of those members of the family who had not been present. it reminded us of the scene in "war and peace" after the hunt, when charming young countess natalya ilinitchna astonishes her old relative by her artistic performance of the russian dance, which she must have inherited with the traditions of her native land, since she had never learned it. balalaika duets were one of the joys of our evenings under the trees, after dinner. the young men played extremely well, and the popular airs were fascinating. our favorite was the "_barynya-sudarynya_," which invariably brings out volleys of laughter and plaudits when it is sung on the stage. even a person who hears it played for the first time and is ignorant of the words is constrained to laughter by the merry air. in the evenings there were also hare-and-hounds hunts through the meadows and forests, bonfires over which the younger members of the family jumped in peasant fashion, and other amusements. in consequence of vegetarian indiscretions and of trifling with his health in other ways during the exceptionally hot weather then prevailing, the count fell ill. when he got about a little he delighted to talk of death. he said he felt that he was not going to live long, and was glad of it. he asked what we thought of death and the other world, declaring that the future life must be far better than this, though in what it consisted he could not feel any certainty. naturally he did not agree with our view, that for the lucky ones this world provides a very fair idea of heaven, because his ideal was not happiness for all, but misery for all. he will be forced to revise this ideal if he ever really comes to believe in heaven. during this illness i persuaded him to read "looking backward," which i had received as i was leaving moscow. when i presented it to him, he promised to examine it "some time;" but when i give books i like to hear the opinion of the recipient in detail, and i had had experience when i gave him "robert elsmere." especially in this case was i anxious to discuss the work. at first he was very favorably impressed, and said that he would translate the book into russian. he believed that this was the true way: that people should have, literally, all things in common, and so on. i replied that matters would never arrive at the state described unless this planet were visited by another deluge, and neither noah nor any other animal endowed with the present human attributes saved to continue this selfish species. i declared that nothing short of a new planet, utopia, and a newly created, selected, and combined race of utopian angels, would ever get as far as the personages in that book, not to speak of remaining in equilibrium on that dizzy point when it should have been once attained. he disagreed with me, and an argument royal ensued. in the course of it he said that his only objection lay in the degree of luxury in which the characters of the new perfection lived. "what harm is there in comfort and luxury to any extent," i asked, "provided that all enjoy it?" "luxury is all wrong," he answered severely. "you perceive the sinful luxury in which i live," waving his hand toward the excessively plain furniture, and animadverting with special bitterness on the silver forks and spoons. "it is all a fallacy that we can raise those below us by remaining above them. we must descend to their level in habits, intelligence, and life; then all will rise together." "even bread must have yeast; and if we all make ourselves exactly alike, who is to act as yeast? are we to adopt all vices of the lower classes? that would be the speediest way of putting ourselves on a complete equality with them. but if some of us do not remain yeast, we shall all turn out the flattest sort of dough." "we certainly cannot change the position of a thing unless we go close enough to grasp it, unless we are on the same plane with it." "perhaps not; but being on the same plane does not always answer. did you ever see an acrobat try that trick? he puts one leg on the table, then tries to lift his whole body by grasping the other leg and putting it on a level to begin with. logically, it ought to succeed and carry the body with it, if your theory is correct. however, it remains merely a curious and amusing experiment, likely to result in a broken neck to any one not skilled in gymnastics, and certain to end in a tumble even for the one who is thus skilled." he reiterated his arguments. i retorted that human beings were not moral kangaroos, who could proceed by leaps, and that even the kangaroo is obliged to allow the tip of his tail to follow his paws. i said that in the moral as well as in the physical world it is simply a choice between standing still and putting one foot before the other; that one cannot get upstairs by remaining on the bottom step; one member of the body must rise first. we were obliged to agree to disagree, as usual, but i fancy that he may have changed to my opinion of the book and the subject by this time. i have already noted that he is open to influence. one evening, as we sat on the steps of the uncovered terrace outside his study, the conversation fell on the book which he was then engaged upon, and which the countess had shown us that she was copying for the fourth time. he had been busy on it for two years. neither of them went into details nor mentioned the plot, but i had heard on my arrival in russia, twenty months previously, that it related to the murder of a woman by her husband, and had a railway scene in it. i did not interrogate them, and when the count said that he hoped i would translate the book when it should be finished i accepted the proposal with alacrity. i inquired whether i was to read it then. "you may if you wish," was the reply, "but i shall probably make some changes, and i should prefer that you would wait; but that shall be as you please." his wife said that he might suddenly take a fancy to view the subject from an entirely different point, and write the book all over. i declined to anticipate my future pleasure by even glancing at it, and i asked no questions. neither did i ask to see "the fruits of civilization," which was already written and named, i was not there to exploit their hospitality. the count and his wife differed as to what ought to be the fate of the coming volume. he wished to give it to the world (that is, to some publisher) for nothing. she argued that some one, the publisher at least, would make money out of it; then why not let his own family have the profit, as was just? he insisted that it was wrong, inconsistent, in the same strain as he discusses the subject of his writings in "what to do?" but she urged him, in case he would not consent to justice, to leave the manuscript with her, unpublished, so that the family could use it after his death. (when the book was ready it was named "the kreutzer sonata.") i think that every one must side with the countess in her view of this matter and in her management of the family. it is owing solely to her that the younger members of the family are receiving that education to fit them for their struggle with life which her husband bestowed upon the elder members voluntarily. it is due to her alone, also, that her husband is still alive. it is not an easy task to protect the count against himself. one adds to one's admiration for the count's literary genius an admiration for the countess's talent and good sense by an extended acquaintance with this family. more than one community has been organized for the express purpose of carrying out the life of toil which count tolstoy has advocated at times. one of these communities, of which i had direct information, purchased an estate of a landed proprietor, including the manor house, and began to work. this acquisition of an estate by them, while the count would like to give away his as sinful to retain, does not strike one as a good beginning. however, they did not use the manor house, but lived in one small peasant hut. "they all slept on the floor and benches, men and women," said a russian to me. a wealthy man had sold his property to join this community against the wishes of his wife, who accompanied him, nevertheless. when her baby came, they allowed her to occupy a room in the mansion and required no work from her, since she had the care of the child. "they never swept or scrubbed anything, and they propagated every insect known to man, and probably a few new ones." but the count has never preached this doctrine, or that an indefinite number of persons should occupy a single cottage. thus do his too enthusiastic disciples discredit him by running into excesses. so far as he is concerned, there is not the slightest doubt that he would gladly attempt the life which he advocates. but if he were to take up his residence in a peasant's cottage, and try to support himself on what his labors brought in exclusively, he would be dead in less than a month. he suffers from liver disease; he has not been used to hard labor from early youth; he cannot, at his age, accustom himself to it any more than he can compel his stomach to accept a purely vegetable diet in place of the meat diet on which he has been brought up. he strives conscientiously to do it. even the fits of illness caused by his severe treatment of himself do not break his spirit. he exercises not the slightest calculation or forethought in the care of his health, either before it breaks down or afterwards. for example: about five years ago he bruised his leg seriously against the wheel of a peasant cart. instead of resting it, he persisted in working. erysipelas developed. the tula doctor paid him numerous visits, at fifteen rubles a visit. then gangrene threatened, and a doctor was sent for from moscow. he was a celebrity; price three hundred and fifty rubles. this was penny wise and pound foolish, of course. but in all probability the count feels the responsibility of exerting his will in this matter of labor all the more because it does not come easy to him, and he attributes to weakness of will power what a peasant would recognize as simple physical exhaustion. the peasant would not hesitate to climb to the top of his oven and stay there until his illness was over, with not a thought whether the work were done or not; and yet the peasant would work far beyond the bounds of what one would suppose that a man could endure. but count tolstoy overrates his powers of endurance, and, having exhausted his forces in one desperate spurt, he is naturally obliged to spend more than a corresponding amount of time in recuperating, even if no serious complication intervenes; and this gives rise to the accusation of laziness and insincerity from those who chance to see him in one of these intervals of rest. another point which is too often lost sight of by people who disapprove of his labor theories is that, while he advocates living in all respects like a peasant, descending to that level in mind as well as in body, which doctrine seems to include the incessant toil of the masses, he has also announced his theory that men should divide their time each day between ( ) hard labor unto perspiration and callosities; ( ) the exercise of some useful handicraft; ( ) exercise of the brain in writing and reading; ( ) social intercourse; sixteen hours in all. this is not a programme which a peasant could follow out. in summer, during the "suffering" season, the peasant toils in the fields for nearly the whole of the twenty-four hours instead of the four thus allotted. in winter, when no field labor is possible, he is likely to spend much more than four hours at whatever remunerative handicraft he may be acquainted with, or in intercourse with his fellow-men (detrimental as likely as not), and a good deal less in reading at any season of the year, for lack of instruction, interest, or books. on the other hand, this reasonable _regime_ is not practicable for many men of other than peasant rank. it happens to be perfectly practicable for count tolstoy when his health permits. but as he has also said much about doing everything for one's self, earning in some form of common labor all that one spends, those who remember this only, and who know how little can be earned by a whole day's toil in russia, not to mention toil divided between two branches, which agriculture does not permit, are not altogether to blame for jumping to the conclusion that the count makes no effort to practice what he preaches. he does what he can. he is reproached with having made over his property to his wife and with living as before. it is really difficult to see what other course is open to him. an unmarried man, under obligations to no one but himself, may reasonably be blamed for not carrying out the doctrine which he volunteers to teach the world. a married man can only be blamed for volunteering the doctrine. no blame can possibly attach to the wife who defends the interest of the family to the extent of working havoc with his doctrines. even if count tolstoy were able to support himself, he certainly could not support a wife and the nine living children out of sixteen which he has had. there is no justice in expecting the adult members of the family to accept and practice his doctrines. they do not compel him to accept theirs, though they are in the majority. the little ones could not feed themselves, even were they ideal peasant children. it would be nearer the truth to say that the countess has taken possession of the property; she administers it wisely and economically, for the good of the family and her husband. she issued, about five years ago, a cheaper edition of her husband's works, the only edition available hitherto having been very expensive. the wisdom of her step was proved by the large profits derived from it in the course of three years,--fifty thousand dollars,--all of which was applied to the needs of the family. the count is not the only one at yasnaya polyana to deny himself. for the past two winters the whole family have remained on the estate, and have not gone to moscow, with the exception of one who is in business at the capital, one member who is at his studies, and one who is married and resides on another estate. this is because the income did not amount to a certain sum, a very moderate sum in american eyes, without which a stay in town would have been imprudent. the question naturally follows: if the countess holds the property, and the count continues to get the good of it, in a modest way; if the count does not do everything for himself, and earn his daily bread by manual toil, is not he mentally unbalanced to proclaim his theories to the world, and to change his mind so often on other points? the answer is: no. undoubtedly the count, when he attained to his convictions on the subject of poverty and labor, hoped to carry his family with him. the countess, like a brave woman, like a devoted wife and mother, refused to adopt his views. she is willing to shoulder the responsibility of her refusal, and her conduct is an honor to her. as for his changes of doctrine, we are all very much like him in the matter of inconsistency. only, as very few of us enjoy the renown or the authority of count tolstoy, it rarely occurs to us to proclaim our progressive opinions to the world; at most, one or two experiences cure us of that weakness, even if any one thinks it worth while to notice them in the slightest degree. very few of us are so deeply rooted in our convictions, or so impressed with their importance to the world as principles, that we will raise a finger to defend them. we alternately know that we shall never change them again, and suspect that we may see something better at any moment; and we refrain from committing ourselves unnecessarily in any form which can be brought up against us hereafter. the case is precisely the reverse with count tolstoy. he is so full of the missionary spirit, so persuaded of the truth and value of his beliefs, that he rushes into print with them instantly. there they are, all ready for those who do not sympathize with him to use as missiles when he gets a new inspiration. change of opinion is generally progress. continuity, an absolute lack of change, means stagnation and death in the mental as well as in the physical world. as the count is impressible and reads much, his reading and meditation are fruitful of novelties, which he bravely submits to the judgment of the world without pausing to consider whether they coincide with his other utterances or not. that he does not always express his abstract ideas clearly is the inevitable result of the lack of philosophical training. but enthusiastic souls who grieve over the imperfections in the present organization of society are always waiting for some one of warmer zeal to lead them. such persons perceive the ideal side of every argument, interpret doctrines with their hearts, not with their heads, and are fired by the newest conception of social relations. as one of the most marked characteristics of count tolstoy lies in infusing his own personality into every word he writes, it is only natural that these people should adopt him as their guide. it is not the fault of any one in particular that he has abandoned a doctrine by the time others have mastered it. the only refuge is in the cry of hamlet:-- "the time is out of joint; o cursed spite! that ever i was born to set it right." thus much i think i may say of the home life of the famous russian writer without sinning against the duties imposed by the frank and cordial hospitality for which we are indebted to the family. it has seemed time to enter a protest against various misrepresentations and misconceptions in regard to them which are current. in conclusion, i beg leave to explain that my spelling of the name is that used by themselves when writing in english, and in print upon their french cards. ix. a russian holy city. it was close on midnight when we left yasnaya polyana. a large and merry party of count tolstoy's children and relatives escorted us: some in the baggage cart, perched on our luggage; some in the jaunting-car-like _lineika_ with us, on our moonlight drive to the little station where we were to join the train and continue our journey southward. we should have preferred to travel by daylight, as we were possessed of the genuine tourist greed for seeing "everything;" but in this case, as in many others in russia, the trains were not arranged so that we could manage it. there is very little variety along the road through central russia, but the monotony is of a different character from that of the harsh soil and the birch and pine forests of the north. the vast plains of this _tchernozyom_--the celebrated "black earth zone"--swell in long, low billows of herbage and grain, diversified only at distant intervals by tracts of woodland. but the wood is too scarce to meet the demands for fuel, and the manure of the cattle, well dried, serves to eke it out, a traveling native in our compartment told us, instead of being used, as it should be, to enrich the land, which is growing poor. now and then, substantial brick cottages shone out amidst the gray and yellow of the thatched log huts in the hamlets. we heard of one landed proprietor who encouraged his peasant neighbors to avoid the scourge of frequent conflagrations by building with brick, and he offered a prize to every individual who should comply with the conditions. the prize consisted of a horse from the proprietor's stables, and of the proprietor's presence, in full uniform and all his orders, at the house-warming. the advantages of brick soon became so apparent to the peasants that they continued to employ it, even after their patron had been forced to abolish the reward, lest his horses and his time should be utterly exhausted. minor incidents were not lacking to enliven our long journey. in the course of one of the usual long halts at a county town, a beggar came to the window of our carriage. he was a tall, slender young fellow, about seven-and-twenty years of age. though he used the customary forms,-- "give me something, _sudarynya_* if only a few kopeks, _khristi radi!_"** there was something about him, despite his rags, there was an elegance of accent in his language, to which i was not accustomed in the "poor brethren" generally. * madam. ** for christ's sake. i pretended ignorance of russian and the sign language, but watched him as i continued my conversation in english. thereupon my man repeated his demands in excellent french, with a good accent. i turned on him. "this is unusual," i said in russian, by way of hinting that i belonged to the category of the willfully deaf. "accept my compliments on your knowledge of french and of russian. but be so good as to explain to me this mystery before i contribute." "madam," he retorted, "i'd have you know that i am a gentleman,--a gentleman of education." "then pray solve the other mystery,--why you, strong, young, healthy, handsome, are a professional beggar." he stalked off in a huff. evidently he was one of that class of "decayed nobles" of whom i had heard many curious tales in moscow; only he had decayed at a rather earlier age than the average. as we proceeded southward, pretty little russian girls took the place of the plainer-featured great russian maidens. familiar plants caught our eyes. mulleins--"imperial sceptre" is the pretty russian name--began to do sentinel duty along the roadside; sumach appeared in the thickets of the forests, where the graceful cut-leaved birch of the north was rare. the lombardy poplar, the favorite of the little russian poets, reared its dark columns in solitary state. at last, kieff, the holy city, loomed before us in the distance. i know no town in russia which makes so picturesque and characteristic an impression on the traveler as kieff. from the boundless plain over which we were speeding, we gazed up at wooded heights crowned and dotted with churches. at the foot of the slope, where golden domes and crosses, snowy white monasteries and battlemented walls, gleamed among masses of foliage punctuated with poplars, swept the broad dnyepr. it did not seem difficult then to enter into the feelings of prince oleg when he reached the infant town, on his expedition from unfertile novgorod the great, of the north, against byzantium, and, coveting its rich beauty, slew its rulers and entered into possession, saying, "this shall be the mother of all russian cities." we could understand the sentiments of the pilgrims who flock to the holy city by the million. the agreeable sensation of approach being over, our expectations, which had been waxing as the train threaded its way through a ravine to the station, received a shock. it was the shock to which we were continually being subjected whenever we made pious pilgrimages to places of historic renown. on each occasion of this sort we were moved to reflect deeply on the proverbial blessings of ignorance. it makes a vast difference in one's mental comfort, i find, whether he accepts the present unquestioningly, with enthusiasm, and reconstructs the historic past as an agreeable duty, or whether he already bears the past, in its various aspects, in his mind, in involuntary but irrational expectation of meeting it, and is forced to accept the present as a painful task! which of these courses to pursue in the future was the subject of my disappointed meditations, as we drove through the too europeanized streets, and landed at a hotel of the same pattern. it is easy to forgive st. petersburg, in its giddy youth of one hundred and seventy-five winters, for its western features and comforts; but that kieff, in its venerable maturity of a thousand summers, should be so spick and span with newness and reformation seemed at first utterly unpardonable. the inhabitants think otherwise, no doubt, and deplore the mediaeval hygienic conditions which render the town the most unhealthy in europe, in the matter of the death-rate from infectious diseases. our comfortable hotel possessed not a single characteristic feature, except a line on the printed placard of regulations posted in each room. the line said, "the price of this room is four rubles [or whatever it was] a day, except in contract time." "contract time," i found, meant the annual fair, in february, when the normal population of about one hundred and sixty-six thousand is swelled by "arrivers"--as travelers are commonly designated on the signboards of the lower-class hotels-- from all the country round about. when, prompted by this remarkable warning, i inquired the prices during the fair, the clerk replied sweetly,--no other word will do justice to his manner,--"all we can get!" such frankness is what the french call "brutal." the principal street of the town, the krestchatik, formerly the bed of a stream, in front of our windows, was in the throes of sewer-building. more civilization! sewage from the higher land had lodged there in temporary pools. the weather was very hot. the fine large yellow bricks, furnished by the local clay-beds, of which the buildings and sidewalks were made, were dazzling with heat. it is only when one leaves the low-lying new town, and ascends the hills, on which the old dwellers wisely built, or reaches the suburbs, that one begins thoroughly to comprehend the enthusiastic praises of many russians who regard kieff as the most beautiful town in the empire. the glare of the yellow brick melts softly into the verdure of the residence quarter, and is tempered into inoffensiveness in the old town by the admixture of older and plainer structures, which refresh the eye. but the chief charm, unfailing, inexhaustible as the sight of the ocean, is the view from the cliffs. beyond the silver sweep of the river at their feet, animated with steamers and small boats, stretches the illimitable steppe, where the purple and emerald shadows of the sea depths and shallows are enriched with hues of golden or velvet brown and misty blue. the steppe is no longer an unbroken expanse of waving plume-grass and flowers, wherein riders and horses are lost to sight as, in gogol's celebrated tale, were taras bulba and his sons, fresh from the famous academy of kieff, which lies at our feet, below the cliffs. increasing population has converted this virgin soil into vast grainfields, less picturesque near at hand than the wild growth, but still deserving, from afar, of gogol's enraptured apostrophe: "devil take you, steppe, how beautiful you are!" naturally, our first pilgrimage was to the famous kievo-petcherskaya lavra, that is, the first-class monastery of the kieff catacombs, the chief monastic institution and goal of pilgrims in all the country, of which we had caught a glimpse from the opposite shore of the river, as we approached the town. buildings have not extended so densely in this direction but that a semblance of ascetic retirement is still preserved. between the monastery and the city lies the city park, which is not much patronized by the citizens, and for good reasons. to the rich wildness of nature is added the wildness of man. hordes of desperadoes, "the barefoot brigade," the dregs of the local population, have taken up their residence there every spring, of late years, in the ravines and the caves which they have excavated, in humble imitation of the holy men of the monastery of old. from time to time the police make a skirmish there, but an unpleasant element of danger is still connected with a visit to this section of the city's heart, which deters most people from making the attempt. beyond this lie the heights, on which stand the fortress and the catacombs monastery. opposite the arsenal opens the "holy gate;" all russian monasteries seem to have a holy gate. "the wall, fourteen feet in height, and more in some places, surrounding the principal court, was built by hetman mazeppa," says the local guide-book. thus promptly did we come upon traces of that dashing kazak chieftain, who would seem, judging from the solid silver tombs for saints, the churches, academy, and many other offerings of that nature in kieff alone, to have spent the intervals between his deeds of outrageous treachery and immorality in acts of ostentatious piety. in fact, his piety had an object, as piety of that rampant variety usually has. he meditated betraying little russia into the power of poland; and knowing well how heartily the little russians detested the poles because of the submission to the pope of rome in those greek churches designated as uniates, he sought to soothe their suspicions and allay their fears by this display of attachment to the national church. his vaingloriousness was shown by his habit of having his coat of arms placed on bells, _ikonostasi_,* and windows of the churches he built. in one case, he caused his portrait to be inserted in the holy door of the _ikonostas_,--a very improper procedure,--where it remained until the middle of the last century. highly colored frescoes of the special monastery saints and of historical incidents adorned the wall outside the holy gate. inside, we found a monk presiding over a table, on which stood the image of the saint of the day, a platter covered with a cross-adorned cloth, for offerings, and various objects of piety for sale. * image screens. the first thing which struck us, as we entered the great court, was the peculiar south russian taste for filling in the line of roof between the numerous domes with curving pediments and tapering turned-wood spirelets surmounted by golden stars and winged seraphs' heads surrounded by rays. the effect of so many points of gold against the white of the walls, combined with the gold of the crosses, the high tints of the external frescoes, and the gold of the cupolas, is very brilliant, no doubt; but it is confusing, and constitutes what, for want of a better word, i must call a byzantine-rococo style of architecture. the domes, under western influence, during the many centuries when kieff was divorced from russia, under polish and lithuanian rule, assumed forms which lack the purity and grace of those in russia proper. octagonal cupolas supported on thick, sloping bases involuntarily remind one of the cup-and-ball game. not content with this degenerate beginning, they pursue their errors heavenward. instead of terminating directly in a cross, they are surmounted by a lantern frescoed with saints, a second octagonal dome, a ball, and a cross. these octagons constitute a feature in all south russian churches. along the sides of the court leading to the great assumption cathedral stood long, plain one and two story buildings, the cells of the monks. rugs of fine coloring and design were airing on the railings in front of them. i examined their texture, found it thick and silky, but could not class it with any manufacture of my acquaintance. i looked about for some one to question. a monk was approaching. his long, abundant hair flowed in waves from beneath the black veil which hung from his tall, cylindrical _klobuk_, resembling a rimless silk hat. his artistically cut black robe fell in graceful folds. i should describe him as dandified, did i dare apply such an adjective to an ecclesiastical recluse. i asked him where such rugs were to be found. he answered that they were of peasant manufacture, and that i could probably find them in podol, the market below the cliffs. these specimens had been presented to the monastery by "zealous benefactors." then he took his turn at questioning. i presume that my accent was not perfect, or that i had omitted some point of etiquette in which an orthodox russian would have been drilled, such as asking his blessing and kissing his hand in gratitude, by way of saying "good-morning," or something of that sort. his manner was that of a man of the world, artistically tinged with monastic conventionality, and i wondered whether he were not an ex-officer of the guards who had wearied of court and gayeties. he offered to show us about, and took us to the printing-house, founded in the sixteenth century. it is still one of the best and most extensive in the country, with a department of chromo-lithography attached for the preparation of cheap pictures of saints. one of the finest views in town is from the balcony at the rear of this building, and the monk explained all the points to us. there was an air of authority about our impromptu guide, and the profound reverences bestowed upon him and upon us by the workmen in the printing-house, as well as by all the monks whom we met, prompted me to inquire, as we parted from him, to whom we were indebted for such interesting guidance and explanations. "i am _otetz kaznatchei_," he replied, with a smile, as he not only offered his hand, but grasped mine and shook it, with an expression of his cordial good wishes, instead of bestowing upon me a mechanical cross in the air, and permitting me to kiss his plump little fingers in return, as he would undoubtedly have done had i been a russian. i understood the respect paid, and our reflected importance, when i discovered that the "father treasurer" occupies the highest rank next to the permanent head of the monastery officially, and the most important post of all practically. shortly after, the question fever having attacked me again, i accosted another monk, equal in stateliness of aspect to the father treasurer. he informed me that from seven hundred to one thousand persons lived in the monastery. not all of them were monks, some being only lay brethren. each monk, however, had his own apartments, with a little garden attached, and the beautiful rugs which i had seen formed part of the furnishings of their cells. a man cannot enter the monastery without money, but fifty rubles (about twenty-five dollars) are sufficient to gain him admittance. some men leave the monastery after a brief trial, without receiving the habit. "in such a throng one comes to know many faces," he said, "but not all persons." i inquired whether it were not a monotonous, tiresome life. "it seems so to you!" he replied, when he had recovered from his amazement; and when i mentioned the liturgy which is peculiar to the monastery cathedral, and famed throughout russia as "the kieff-catacombs singing," all he found to say was, "it is very long." he took advantage of the chance presented by a trip to his cell to get us some water, to remove his tall _klobuk_. he must have read in our glances admiration of his beauty mingled with a doubt as to whether it were not partly due to this becoming cowl and veil, and determined to convince us that it was nature, not adventitious circumstances, in his case. i think he must have been content with the expression of our faces, as he showed us the way to the most ancient of all the churches in kieff,--in russia, in fact,--built by prince-saint vladimir immediately after his return from the crusade in search of baptism. the church door was locked. the wife of the deacon in charge was paddling about barefooted, in pursuit of her fowls, in the long grass of the dooryard. she abandoned the chickens and hunted up her husband, who took a peep at us, and then kept us waiting while he donned his best cassock before escorting us. it is a very small, very plain church which adjoined prince vladimir's summer palace, long since destroyed, and still preserves its gallery for women and servants, and a box for the ladies of the household. everything about it is nine hundred years old, except the roof and the upper portion of the walls. the archaic frescoes of angels in the chancel, which date from the same period, and are the best in kieff, were the only objects which the deacon could find to expound, to enhance the "tea-money" value of his services in putting on his best gown and unlocking the door, and he performed his duty meekly, but firmly. we did ours by him, and betook ourselves to the principal church, the cathedral of the assumption, where less is left to the imagination. there, very few of the frescoes are more than a hundred and sixty years old, the majority dating back less than sixty years, and being in a style to suit the rococo gilt carving, and the silver-gilt imperial gate to the altar. in the _papert_, or corridor-vestibule, a monk who was presiding over a book of eternal remembrance invited us to enter our subscriptions for general prayers to be said on our behalf, or for special prayers to be said before the "wonder-working image" of the assumption so long as the monastery shall exist. "we are not _pravoslavny_" (orthodox christians), i said. but, instead of being depressed by this tacit refusal, he brightened up and plied us with a series of questions, until he really seemed to take a temporary interest in life, in place of his permanent official interest in death alone, or chiefly. service was in progress, in accordance with the canons of the studieff monastery, adopted by st. fedosy in the eleventh century. the singers, placed in an unusual position, in the centre of the church, were as remarkable for their hair as for their voices and execution. the russet-brown and golden locks of some of them fell in heavy waves to their waists. in fact, long, waving hair seemed to be a specialty with the monks of this monastery, and they wore it in braids when off duty. i had seen priests in st. petersburg who so utterly beyond a doubt frizzed their scanty hair on days of grand festivals, that the three tufts pertaining to the three too slender hair pins on which they had been done up stood out in painfully isolated disagreement. what would they not have given for such splendid manes as these kieff singers possessed! we ascended to the gallery, to obtain a better view of the scene. peasant men in sheepskins (_tulupi_),--the temperature verged on degrees fahrenheit,--in coats of dark brown homespun wool girt with sashes which had once been bright; female pilgrims in wadded coats girt into shapelessness over cotton gowns of brilliant hues, knelt in prayer all about the not very spacious floor. their traveling-sacks on their backs, the tin tea-kettles and cooking paraphernalia at their belts, swayed into perilous positions as they rocked back and forth, striking the floor devoutly with their brows, rising only to throw back their long hair, cross themselves rapidly, and resume the "ground salutations," until we were fairly dizzy at the sight. some of them placed red, yellow, or green tapers--the first instance of such a taste in colors which we had observed--on the sharp points of the silver candelabra standing before the holy pictures in the _ikonostas_, already overcrowded. a monk was incessantly engaged in removing the tapers when only half consumed, to make way for the ever-swelling flood of fresh tapers. another monk was as incessantly engaged in receiving the _prosfori_. a _prosfora_ is leavened bread in the shape of a tiny double loaf, which is sold at the doors of churches, and bears on its upper surface certain symbolic signs, as a rule. the communion is prepared from similar loaves by the priest, who removes certain portions with a spear-shaped knife, and places them in the wine of the chalice. the wine and bread are administered with a spoon to communicants. from the loaves bought at the door pieces are cut in memory of dead friends, whose souls are to be prayed for, or of living friends, whose health is prayed for by the priest at a certain point of the service, in accordance with the indications sent up to the altar with the loaves on slips of paper, such as "for the soul of ivan vasilievitch," "for the health of tatiana pavlovna." thus is preserved the memory of early christian times, when the christians brought wine and oil and bread for their worship; and the best having been selected for sacred use, portions were taken from the remainder in memory of those who sent or brought them, after the rest was used to refresh the congregation during a pause in the all-night service between vespers and matins. after the service, in our modern times, the _prosfori_ are given back to the owners, who cross themselves and eat the bread reverently on the spot or elsewhere, as blessed but not sacramental. at this monastery, the _prosfori_ prepared for memorial use had a group of the local saints stamped on top, instead of the usual cross and characters. it is considered a delicate attention on the part of a person who has been on a pilgrimage to any of the holy places to bring back a _prosfora_ for a friend. it is very good when sliced and eaten with tea, omitting the bottom crust, which may have been dated in ink by the pilgrim. some of the peasants at this monastery church sent in to be blessed huge packages of _prosfori_ tied up in gay cotton kerchiefs. the service ended, and the chief treasure of the monastery, the miraculous image of the assumption of the virgin,--the falling asleep of the virgin is the russian name,--was let slowly down on its silken cords from above the imperial gate, where a twelve-fold silver lamp, with glass cups of different colors, has burned unquenched since , in commemoration of russia's deliverance from "the twelve tribes," as the french invasion is termed. the congregation pressed forward eagerly to salute the venerated image. tradition asserts that it was brought from constantinople to kieff in the year , with the virgin's special blessing for the monastery. by reason of age and the smoke from conflagrations in which the monastery has suffered, the image is so darkened that one is cast back upon one's imagination and the copies for comprehension of this treasure's outlines. what is perfectly comprehensible, however, is the galaxy of diamonds, brilliants, and gems thickly set in the golden garments which cover all but the hands and feet of the personages in the picture, and illuminate it with flashes of many-hued light. after a few minutes, the image was drawn up again to its place,--a most unusual position for a valued holy image, though certainly safe, and one not occupied, so far as i am aware, by any other in the country. it occurred to us that it might prove an interesting experiment to try the monastery inn for breakfast, and even to sojourn there for a day or two, and abandon the open sewers and other traces of advanced civilization in the town. our way thither led past the free lodgings for poor pilgrims, which were swarming with the devout of both sexes, although it was not the busiest season for shrine-visiting. that comes in the spring, before the harvest, at all monasteries, and, in this particular monastery, on the feast of the assumption, august (russian style), (european style). but there was a sufficient contingent of the annual one million pilgrims present to give us a very fair idea of the reverence in which this, the chief of all russian monasteries, is held, and of the throngs which it attracts. but, as usual in russia, sight alone convinced us of their existence; they were chatting quietly, sitting and lying about with enviable calmness, or eating the sour black bread and boiled buckwheat groats provided by the monastery. i talked with several of them, and found them quite unconscious that they were not comfortably, even luxuriously, housed and fed. the inn for travelers of means was a large, plain, airy building, with no lodgers, apparently. the monks seemed frightened at the sight of us. that was a novelty. but they escorted us over the house in procession. we looked at a very clean, very plain room, containing four beds. it appeared, from their explanations, that pilgrims have gregarious tastes, and that this was their nearest approach to a single room. i inquired the price. "according to your zeal," was the reply. how much more effective than "what you please" in luring the silver from lukewarm pockets! the good monks never found out how warm our zeal was, after all, for the reason that their table was never furnished with anything but fish and "fasting food," they said, though there was no fast in progress. the reason why, i could not discover; but we knew our own minds thoroughly on the subject of "fasting food," from mushroom soup, fish fried in sunflower oil, and coffee without milk to that most insipid of dessert dishes, _kisel_, made of potato flour, sweetened, and slightly soured with fruit juice. they told us that we might have meat sent out from town, if we wished; but as the town lay several versts distant, that did not seem a very practical way of coquetting with the evil one under their roof. accordingly, we withdrew; to their relief, i am sure. as we had already lived in a monastery inn, it had not occurred to us that there could be any impropriety in doing so, but that must have been the cause of their looks of alarm. i believe that one can remain for a fortnight at this inn without payment, unless conscience interferes; and people who had stayed there told me that meat had been served to them from the monastery kitchen; so that puzzle still remains a puzzle to me. we went to see the brethren dine in the refectory, an ancient, vaulted building of stone, near the cathedral. under a white stone slab near the entrance lie the bodies of kotchubey and iskra, who were unjustly executed by peter the great for their loyal denunciation of mazeppa's meditated treachery. within, the walls of the antechamber were decorated with dizzy perspective views of jerusalem, the saints, and pious elders of the monastery. at the end of the long dining-hall, beyond an _ikonostas_, was a church, as is customary in these refectories. judging from the number of servitors whom we had met hurrying towards the cells with sets of porcelain dinner-trays, not many monks intended to join the common table, and it did not chance to be one of the four days in the year when the metropolitan of kieff and other dignitaries dine there in full vestments. at last, a score of monks entered, chanted a prayer at a signal from a small bell, and seated themselves on benches affixed to the wall which ran round three sides of the room. the napkins on the tables which stood before the benches consisted of long towels, each of which lay across four or five of the pewter platters from which they ate, as the table was set in preparation. if it had been a festal day, there would have been several courses, with beer, mead, and even wine to wash them down. as it was, the monks ate their black bread and boiled buckwheat groats, served in huge dishes, with their wooden spoons, and drank _kvas_, brewed from sour black bread, at a signal from the bell, after the first dish only, as the rule requires. while they ate, a monk, stationed at a desk near by, read aloud the extracts from the lives of the saints appointed for the day. this was one of the "sights," but we found it curious and melancholy to see strong, healthy men turned into monks and content with that meagre fare. frugality and dominion over the flesh are good, of course, but minds from west of the atlantic ocean never seem quite to get into sympathy with the monastic idea; and we always felt, when we met monks, as though they ought all to be off at work somewhere, --i will not say "earning money," for they do that as it is in such great monasteries as that of kieff, but lightening the burden of the peasants, impossible as that is under present conditions, or making themselves of some commonplace, practical use in the world. the strongest point of the lavra, even equal to the ancient and venerated _ikona_ of the assumption in the great cathedral, is the catacombs, from which the convent takes its name. in the days of the early princes of kieff, the heights now occupied by the lavra were covered with a dense growth of birch forest, and entirely uninhabited. later on, one of the hills was occupied by the village of berostovo, and a palace was built adjoining the tiny ancient "church of the saviour in the birch forest," which i have already mentioned. it was the favorite residence of prince-saint vladimir, and of his son, prince yaroslaff, after him. during the reign of the latter, early in the eleventh century, the priest of this little church, named ilarion, excavated for himself a tiny cave, and there passed his time in devout meditation and solitary prayer. he abandoned his cave to become metropolitan of kieff. in the year , the monk antony, a native of the neighboring government of tchernigoff, came to kieff from mount athos, being dissatisfied with the life led in the then existing monasteries. after long wanderings over the hills of kieff, he took possession of ilarion's cave, and spent his days and nights in pious exercises. the fame of his devout life soon spread abroad, and attracted to him, for his blessing, not only the common people, but persons of distinction. monks and worldlings flocked thither to join him in his life of prayer. among the first of these to arrive was a youth of the neighborhood, named fedosy. antony hesitated, but at last accepted the enthusiastic recruit. the dimensions of holy antony's cave were gradually enlarged; new cells, and even a tiny church, were constructed near it. then antony, who disliked communal life, retreated to the height opposite, separated from his first residence by a deep ravine, and dug himself another cave, where no one interfered with him. this was the origin of the caves of fedosy, known at the present day as the "far catacombs," and of the caves of antony, called the "near catacombs." the number of the monks continued to increase, and they soon erected a small wooden church aboveground, in the name of the assumption of the blessed virgin, as well as cells for those who could not be contained in the caverns. at the request of holy antony, the prince gave the whole of the heights where the catacombs are situated to the brethren, and in a large new monastery, surrounded by a stockade, was erected on the spot where the cathedral of the assumption now stands. thus was monastic life introduced into russia. the venerated monastery shared all the vicissitudes of the "mother of all russian cities" in the wars of the grand princes and the incursions of external enemies, such as poles and tatars. but after each disaster it waxed greater and more flourishing. restored, after a disastrous fire in , by the zeal of peter the great and his successors, enriched by the gifts of all classes, the lavra now consists of six monasteries,-- like a university of colleges,--four situated within the inclosure, while two are at a distance of several versts, and serve as retreats and as places of burial for the brethren. the catacombs, abandoned as residences on the construction of the cells above ground, have not escaped disasters by caving in. drains to carry off the percolating water, and stone arches to support the soil, have been constructed, and a flourishing orchard has been planted above them to aid in holding the soil together. earthquakes in the thirteenth and sixteenth centuries permanently closed many of them, and when the tatars attacked the town, in the thirteenth century, the monks boarded up all the niches and filled in the entrances with earth. some of these boards were removed about a hundred years ago; some are still in place. the original extent of the caves cannot now be determined. the entrance to the near catacombs of st. antony is through a long wooden gallery supported on stone posts, at a sharp slope, as they are situated twenty-four fathoms below the level of the cathedral, and twenty-two fathoms above the level of the dnyepr. a fat merchant, with glowing black eyes and flowing, crisp, black beard, his tall, wrinkled boots barely visible beneath his long, full-skirted coat of dark blue cloth, hooked closely across his breast, descended the gallery with us. roused to curiosity, probably, by our foreign tongue, he inquired, on the chance of our understanding russian, whence we came. i had already arrived at the conclusion that the people at kieff, especially the monks and any one who breathed the atmosphere within their walls, were of an enterprising, inquisitive disposition. my last encounter had been with the brother detailed, for his good looks and fascinating manners, to preside over the chief image shop of the monastery. "where do you come from?" he had opened fire, with his most bewitching glance. "from the best country on earth." "is it germany?" the general idea among the untraveled classes in russia is, that all of the earth which does not belong to their own emperor belongs to germany, just as _nyemetzky_ means "german" or "foreign," indifferently. "no; guess again," i said. "france?" "no; further away." "england, then?" "no." "hungary?" evidently that man's geography was somewhat mixed, so i told him. "america!" he exclaimed, with great vivacity. "yes, indeed, it is the best land of all. it is the richest!" so that is the monastic as well as the secular standard of worth! this experience, repeated frequently and nearly word for word, had begun to weary me. consequently i led the fat merchant a verbal chase, and baffled him until he capitulated with, "excuse me. take no offense, i beg, _sudarynya_. i only asked so by chance." then i told him with the same result. this was not the last time, by many, that i was put through my national catechism in kieff. every kievlyanin to whom i spoke quizzed me. of course i was on a grand quizzing tour myself, but that was different, in some way. over the entrance to these catacombs stands a church. the walls of the vestibule where my mother, the merchant, and i waited for a sufficient party to assemble, were covered with frescoes representing the passage of the soul through the various stages of purgatory. beginning with the death scene (which greatly resembled the _ikona_ of the assumption in the cathedral) in the lower left-hand corner, the white-robed soul, escorted by two angels, passed through all the halting-places for the various sins, each represented by the appointed devil, duly labeled. but the artist's fancy had not been very fruitful on this fascinating theme. the devils were so exactly alike that the only moral one could draw was, that he might as well commit the biggest and most profitable sin on the list, and make something out of it in this life, as to confine himself to the petty peccadilloes which profit not here, and get well punished hereafter. the series ended with the presentation of the soul before the judgment seat, on the fortieth day after death. round the corner, lazarus reclining in abraham's bosom and the rich man in the flames were conversing, their remarks crossing each other in mid-air, in a novel fashion. when the guide was ready, each of us bought a taper, and the procession set out through the iron grating, down a narrow, winding stair, from which low, dark passages opened out at various angles. on each side of these narrow passages, along which we were led, reposed the "incorruptible" bodies of st. antony and his comrades, in open coffins lacquered or covered with sheets of silver. the bodies seemed very small, and all of one size, and they were wrapped in hideous prints or plaid silks. at the head of each saint flickered a tiny shrine-lamp, before a holy picture (_ikona_) of the occupant of the coffin. it was a surprise to find the giant ilya of murom, who figures as the chief of the _bogatyri_ (heroes) in the russian epic songs, ensconced here among the saints, and no larger than they. next to the silk-enveloped head of st. john the great sufferer, which still projects as in life, when he buried himself to the neck in the earth,--as though he were not sufficiently underground already,--in order to preserve his purity, the most gruesome sight which we beheld in those dim catacombs was a group of chrism-exuding skulls of unknown saints, under glass bells. on emerging from this gloomy retreat, we postponed meditating upon the special pleasure which the lord was supposed to have taken in seeing beings made to live aboveground turning into troglodytes, and set out for the fedosy, or far catacombs, in the hope that they might assist us in solving that problem. we chose the most difficult way, descending into the intervening ravine by innumerable steps to view the two sacred wells, only to have our raging thirst and our curiosity effectually quenched by the sight of a pilgrim thrusting his head, covered with long, matted hair, into one of them. the ascent of more innumerable steps brought us to the cradle of the monastery, ilarion's caverns. in the antechamber we found a phenomenally stupid monk presiding over the sale of the indispensable tapers, and the offerings which the devout are expected to deposit, on emerging, as a memento of their visit. these offerings lay like mountains of copper before him. the guide had taken himself off somewhere, and the monk ordered us, and the five russians who were also waiting, to go in alone and "call to the monk in the cave." we flatly declined to take his word that there was any monk, or to venture into the dangerous labyrinth alone, and we demanded that he should accompany us. "no guide--no candles, no coppers," we said. that seemed to him a valid argument. loath to leave his money at the mercy of chance comers, he climbed up and closed the iron shutters of the grated window,--the cliff descended, sheer, one hundred and two feet to the dnyepr at that point,--double-locked the great iron doors, and there we were in a bank vault, with all possible customers excluded. luckily, the saints in these caverns, which differed very little from those in the former, were labeled in plain letters, since the monk was too dull-witted to understand the simplest questions from any of us. at intervals we were permitted a hasty glimpse of a cell, about seven feet square, furnished only with a stone bench, and a holy picture, with a shrine-lamp suspended before it. ugh! there were several sets of chrism-dripping saintly skulls in these catacombs, also,--fifteen of the ghastly things in one group. i braced my stomach to the task, and scrutinized them all attentively; but not a single one of them winked or nodded at me in approval, as a nun from kolomna, whom i had met in moscow, asserted that they had at her. i really wished to see how an eyeless skull could manage a wink, and hoped i might be favored. after traversing long distances of this subterranean maze, and peering into the "cradle of the monastery," st. antony's cell, the procession came to a halt in a tiny church. there stood a monk, actually, though we might have wandered all day and come out on the banks of the dnyepr without finding him, had we gone in without a guide. beside him, denuded of its glass bell, stood one of the miraculous skulls. the first russian approached, knelt, crossed himself devoutly, and received from the priest the sign of the cross on his brow, administered with a soft, small brush dipped in the oil from the skull. then he kissed the priest's hand, crossed himself again, and kissed the skull. when we beheld this, we modestly stood aside, and allowed our companions, the other four russian men, to receive anointment in like manner, and pass on after the monk, who was in haste to return to his bank vault. as i approached the priest, he raised his brush. "we are not orthodox christians, _batiushka_,"* i said. "but pray give us your blessing." * little father. he smiled, and, dropping his brush, made the sign of the cross over us. i was perfectly willing to kiss his pretty, plump hand,--i had become very skillful at that sort of thing,--but i confess that i shrank from the obligatory salute to the skull, and from that special chrism. nevertheless, i wished the russians to think that i had gone through with the whole ceremony, if they should chance to look back. i felt sure that i could trust the priest to be liberal, but i was not so certain that our lay companions, who were petty traders and peasants, might not be sufficiently fanatical to construe our refusal into disrespect for their church, and resent it in some way. though we returned to the monastery more than once after that, we were never attracted to the catacombs again, not even to witness the mass at seven o'clock in the morning in that subterranean church. the beautiful services in the cathedral, the stately monks, the picturesque pilgrims, with their gentle manners, ingenuous questions, and simple tales of their journeys and beliefs, furnished us with abundant interest in the cheerful sunlight aboveground. next to the catacombs monastery, the other most famous and interesting sight of kieff is the cathedral of st. sophia. built on the highest point of the ancient city, with nine apses turned to the east, crowned by one large dome and fourteen smaller domes,--all gilded, some terminating in crosses, some in sunbursts,--surrounded by turf and trees within a white wall, with entrance under a lofty belfry, it produces an imposing but reposeful effect. the ancient walls, dating from the year , are of red brick intermixed with stone, stuccoed and washed with white. it has undergone changes, external and internal, since that day, and its domes and spires are of the usual degenerate south russian type, without a doubt of comparatively recent construction. so many of its windows have been blocked up by additions, and so cut up is its space by large frescoed pillars, into sixteen sections, that one steps from brilliant sunshine into deep twilight when he enters the cathedral. it is a sort of church which possesses in a high degree that indefinable charm of sacred atmosphere that tempts one to linger on and on indefinitely within its precincts. not that it is so magnificent; many churches in the two capitals and elsewhere in russia are far richer. it is simply one of those indescribable buildings which console one for disappointments in historical places, as a rule, by making one believe, through sensations unconsciously influenced, not through any effort of the reason, that ancient deeds and memories do, in truth, linger about their birthplace. ancient frescoes, discovered about forty years ago, some remaining in their original state, others touched up with more or less skill and knowledge, mingle harmoniously with those of more recent date. very singular are the best preserved, representing hunting parties and banquets of the grand princes, and scenes from the earthly life of christ. but they are on the staircase leading to the old-fashioned gallery, and do not disturb the devotional character of the decoration in the church itself. from the wall of the apse behind the chief of the ten altars gazes down the striking image of the virgin, executed in ancient mosaic, with her hands raised in prayer, whom the people reverently call "the indestructible wall." this, with other mosaics and the frescoes on the staircase, dates from the eleventh century. i stood among the pillars, a little removed from the principal aisle, one afternoon near sunset, listening to the melodious intoning of the priest, and the soft chanting of the small week-day choir at vespers, and wondering, for the thousandth time, why protestants who wish to intone do not take lessons from those incomparable masters in the art, the russian deacons, and wherein lies the secret of the russian ecclesiastical music. that simple music, so perfectly fitted for church use, will bring the most callous into a devotional mood long before the end of the service. rendered as it invariably is by male voices, with superb basses in place of the non-existent organ, it spoils one's taste forever for the elaborate, operatic church music of the west performed by choirs which are usually engaged in vocal steeplechases with the organ for the enhancement of the evil effects. my meditations were interrupted by the approach of a young man, who asked me to be his godmother! he explained that he was a jew from minsk, who had never studied "his own religion," and was now come to kieff for the express purpose of getting himself baptized by the name of vladimir, the tenth century prince and patron saint of the town. as he had no acquaintances in the place, he was in a strait for god-parents, who were indispensable. "i cannot be your godmother," i answered. "i am neither _pravoslavnaya_ nor russian. cannot the priest find sponsors for you?" "that is not the priest's place. his business is merely to baptize. but perhaps he might be persuaded to manage that also, if i had better clothes." he wore a light print shirt, tolerably clean, belted outside his dark trousers, and his shoes and cap were respectable enough. i recalled instances which i had heard from the best authority--a priest--of priests finding sponsors for jews, and receiving medals or orders in reward for their conversion. i recalled an instance related to me by a russian friend who had acted, at the priest's request, as godmother to a jewess so fat that she stuck fast in the receptacle used for the baptism by immersion; and i questioned the man a little. he said that he had a sister living in new york, and gave me her name and address in a manner which convinced me that he knew what he was saying. he had no complaint to make of his treatment by either russians or jews; and when i asked him why he did not join his sister in america, he replied, "why should i? i am well enough off here." perhaps i ought to state that he was a plumber by trade. on the other hand, justice demands the explanation that russian plumbing in general is not of a very complicated character, and in minsk it must be of a very simple kind, i think. he intended to return to minsk as soon as he was baptized. how he expected to attend the russian church in minsk when he had found it inexpedient to be baptized there was one of the points which he omitted to explain. i was at last obliged to bid him a decisive "good-day," and leave the church. he followed, and passed me in the garden, his cap cocked jauntily over his tight bronze curls, and his hips swaying from side to side in harmony. under the long arch of the belfry-tower gate hung a picture, adapted to use as an _ikona_, which set forth how a mother had accidentally dropped her baby overboard from a boat on the dnyepr, and coming, disconsolate, to pray before the image of st. nicholas, the patron of travelers, she had found her child lying there safe and sound; whence this holy picture is known by the name of st. nicholas the wet. before this _ikona_ my jew pulled off his cap, and crossed himself rapidly and repeatedly, watching me out of the corner of his eye, meanwhile, to see how his piety impressed me. it produced no particular effect upon me, except to make me engage a smart-looking cabby to take me to my hotel, close by, by a roundabout route. whether this jew returned to minsk as vladimir or as isaac i do not know; but i made a point of mentioning the incident to several russian friends, including a priest, and learned, to my surprise, that, though i was not a member of a russian church, i could legally have stood godmother to a man, though i could not have done so to a woman; and that a godmother could have been dispensed with. men who are not members of the russian church can, in like manner, stand as godfathers to women, but not to men. moreover, every one seemed to doubt the probability of a jew quitting his own religion in earnest, and they thought that his object had been to obtain from me a suit of clothes, practical gifts to the godchild being the custom in such cases. i had been too dull to take the hint! a few months later, a st. petersburg newspaper related a notorious instance of a jew who had been sufficiently clever to get himself baptized a number of times, securing on each occasion wealthy and generous sponsors. why the man from minsk should have selected me, in my plain serge traveling gown, i cannot tell, unless it was because he saw that i did not wear the garb of the russian merchant class, or look like them, and observation or report had taught him that the aristocratic classes above the merchants are most susceptible to the pleasure of patronizing converts; though to do them justice, russians make no attempt at converting people to their church. i have been assured by a russian jew that his co-religionists never do, really, change their faith. indeed, it is difficult to understand how they can even be supposed to do so, in the face of their strong traditions, in which they are so thoroughly drilled. therefore, if russians stand sponsors to jews, while expressing skepticism as to conversion in general, they cannot complain if unscrupulous persons take advantage of their inconsistency. i should probably have refused to act as godmother, even had i known that i was legally entitled to do so. our searches in the lower town, podol, for rugs like those in the monastery resulted in nothing but amusement. those rugs had been made in the old days of serfdom, on private estates, and are not to be bought. by dint of loitering about in the churches, monasteries, catacombs, markets, listening to that little russian dialect which is so sweet on the lips of the natives, though it looks so uncouth when one sees their ballads in print, and by gazing out over the ever beautiful river and steppe, i came at last to pardon kieff for its progress. i got my historical and mythological bearings. i felt the spirit of the epic songs stealing over me. i settled in my own mind the site of fair-sun prince vladimir's palace of white stone, the scene of great feasts, where he and his mighty heroes quaffed the green wine by the bucketful, and made their great brags, which resulted so tragically or so ludicrously. i was sure i recognized the church where diuk stepanovitch "did not so much pray as gaze about," and indulged in mental comments upon clothes and manners at the easter mass, after a fashion which is not yet obsolete. i imagined that i descried in the blue dusk of the distant steppe ilya of murom approaching on his good steed cloudfall, armed with a damp oak uprooted from damp mother earth, and dragging at his saddle-bow fierce, hissing nightingale the robber, with one eye still fixed on kieff, one on tchernigoff, after his special and puzzling habit, and whom little russian tradition declares was chopped up into poppy seeds, whence spring the sweet-voiced nightingales of the present day. the "atmosphere" of the cradle of the epic songs and of the cradle of pravoslavnaya russia laid its spell upon me on those heights, and even the sight of the cobweb suspension bridge in all its modernness did not disturb me, since with it is connected one of the most charming modern traditions, a classic in the language, which only a perfect artist could have planned and executed. the thermometer stood at degrees fahrenheit when we took our last look at kieff, the holy city. x. a journey on the volga. i. we had seen the russian haying on the estate of count tolstoy. we were to be initiated into the remaining processes of the agricultural season in that famous "black earth zone" which has been the granary of europe from time immemorial, but which is also, alas! periodically the seat of dire famine. it was july when we reached nizhni novgorod, on our way to an estate on the volga, in this "black earth" grainfield, vast as the whole of france; but the flag of opening would not be run up for some time to come. the fair quarter of the town was still in its state of ten months' hibernation, under padlock and key, and the normal town, effective as it was, with its white kremlin crowning the turfed and terraced heights, possessed few charms to detain us. we embarked for kazan. if kazan is an article in the creed of all russians, whether they have ever seen it or not, matushka volga (dear mother volga) is a complete system of faith. certainly her services in building up and binding together the empire merit it, though the section thus usually referred to comprises only the stretch between nizhni novgorod and astrakhan, despite its historical and commercial importance above the former town. but kazan! a stay there of a day and a half served to dispel our illusions. we were deceived in our expectations as to the once mighty capital of the imperial tatar khans. the recommendations of our russian friends, the glamour of history which had bewitched us, the hope of the western for something oriental,--all these elements had combined to raise our expectations in a way against which our sober senses and previous experience should have warned us. it seemed to us merely a flourishing and animated russian provincial town, whose kremlin was eclipsed by that of moscow, and whose university had instructed, but not graduated, count tolstoy, the novelist. the bazaar under arcades, the popular market in the open square, the public garden, the shops,--all were but a repetition of similar features in other towns, somewhat magnified to the proportions befitting the dignity of the home port of the ural mountains and siberia. the tatar quarter alone seemed to possess the requisite mystery and "local color." here whole streets of tiny shops, ablaze with rainbow-hued leather goods, were presided over by taciturn, olive-skinned brothers of the turks, who appeared almost handsome when seen thus in masses, with opportunities for comparison. hitherto we had thought of the tatars only as the old-clothes dealers, peddlers, horse-butchers, and waiters of st. petersburg and moscow. here the dignity of the prosperous merchants, gravely recommending their really well-dressed, well-sewed leather wares, bespoke our admiration. the tatar women, less easily seen, glided along the uneven pavements now and then, smoothly, but still in a manner to permit a glimpse of short, square feet incased in boots flowered with gay hues upon a green or rose-colored ground, and reaching to the knee. they might have been houris of beauty, but it was difficult to classify them, veiled as they were, and screened as to head and shoulders by striped green _kaftans_ of silk, whose long sleeves depended from the region of their ears, and whose collar rested on the brow. what we could discern was that their black eyes wandered like the eyes of unveiled women, and that they were coquettishly conscious of our glances, though we were of their own sex. we found nothing especially striking among the churches, unless one might reckon the tatar mosques in the list; and, casting a last glance at sumbeka's curious and graceful tower, we hired a cabman to take us to the river, seven versts away. we turned our backs upon kazan without regret, in the fervid heat of that midsummer morning. we did not shake its dust from our feet. when dust is ankle-deep that is not very feasible. it rose in clouds, as we met the long lines of tatar carters, transporting flour and other merchandise to and from the wharves across the "dam" which connects the town, in summer low water, with mother volga. in spring floods matushka volga threatens to wash away the very walls of the kremlin, and our present path is under water. fate had favored us with a clever cabman. his shaggy little horse was as dusty in hue as his own coat,--a most unusual color for coat of either russian horse or _izvostchik_. the man's _armyak_ was bursting at every seam, not with plenty, but, since extremes meet, with hard times, which are the chronic complaint of kazan, so he affirmed. he was gentle and sympathetic, like most russian cabmen, and he beguiled our long drive with shrewd comments on the russian and tatar inhabitants and their respective qualities. "the tatars are good people," he said; "very clean,--cleaner than russians; very quiet and peaceable citizens. there was a time when they were not quiet. that was ten years ago, during the war with turkey. they were disturbed. the russians said that it was a holy war; the tatars said so, too, and wished to fight for their brethren of the moslem faith. but the governor was not a man to take fright at that. he summoned the chief men among them before him. 'see here,' says he. 'with me you can be peaceable with better conscience. if you permit your people to be turbulent, i will pave the dam with the heads of tatars. the dam is long. allah is my witness. enough. go!' and it came to nothing, of course. no; it was only a threat, though they knew that he was a strong man in rule. why should he wish to do that, really, even if they were not orthodox? a man is born with his religion as with his skin. the orthodox live at peace with the tatars. and the tatars are superior to the russians in this, also, that they all stick by each other; whereas a russian, _hospodi pomilui!_ [lord have mercy] thinks of himself alone, which is a disadvantage," said my humble philosopher. we found that we had underrated the power of our man's little horse, and had arrived at the river an hour and a half before the steamer was appointed to sail. it should be there lading, however, and we decided to go directly on board and wait in comfort. we gave patient vanka liberal "tea-money." hard times were evidently no fiction so far as he was concerned, and we asked if he meant to spend it on _vodka_, which elicited fervent asseverations of teetotalism, as he thrust his buckskin pouch into his breast. descending in the deep dust, with a sense of gratitude that it was not mixed with rain, we ran the gauntlet of the assorted peddlers stationed on both sides of the long descent with stocks of food, soap, white felt boots, gay sashes, coarse leather slippers too large for human wear, and other goods, and reached the covered wharf. the steamer was not there, but we took it calmly, and asked no questions--for a space. we whiled away the time by chaffering with the persistent tatar venders for things which we did not want, and came into amazed possession of some of them. this was a tribute to our powers of bargaining which had rarely been paid even when we had been in earnest. we contrived to avoid the bars of yellow "egg soap" by inquiring for one of the marvels of kazan,--soap made from mare's milk. an amused apothecary had already assured us that it was a product of the too fertile brain of baedeker, not of the local soap factories. may baedeker himself, some day, reap a similar harvest of mirth and astonishment from the sedate tatars, who can put mare's milk to much better use as a beverage! in the hope of obtaining a conversation-lesson in tatar, we bought a russo-tatar grammar, warranted to deliver over all the secrets of that gracefully curved language in the usual scant array of pages. but the peddler immediately professed as profound ignorance of tatar as he had of russian a few moments before, when requested to abate his exorbitant demands for the pamphlet. by the time we had exhausted these resources one o'clock had arrived. the steamer had not. the office clerk replied to all inquiries with the languid national "_saytchas_" which the dictionary defines as meaning "immediately," but which experience proves to signify, "be easy; any time this side of eternity,--if perfectly convenient!" under the pressure of increasingly vivacious attacks, prompted by hunger, he finally condescended to explain that the big mail steamer, finding too little water in the channel, had "sat down on a sand-bank," and that two other steamers were trying to pull her off. "she might be along at three o'clock, or later,--or some time." it began to be apparent to us why the success of the fair depends, in great measure, on the amount of water in the river. our first meal of bread and tea had been eaten at seven o'clock, and we had counted upon breakfasting on the steamer, where some of the best public cooking in the country, especially in the matter of fish, is to be found. it was now two o'clock. the town was distant. the memory of the ducks, the size of a plover, and other things in proportion, in which our strenuous efforts had there resulted, did not tempt us to return. russians have a way of slaying chickens and other poultry almost in the shell, to serve as game. accordingly, we organized a search expedition among the peddlers, and in the colony of rainbow-hued shops planted in a long street across the heads of the wharves, and filled chiefly with tatars and coarse tatar wares. for the equivalent of seventeen cents we secured a quart of rich cream, half a dozen hard-boiled eggs, a couple of pounds of fine raspberries, and a large fresh wheaten roll. these we ate in courses, as we perched on soap-boxes and other unconventional seats, surrounded by smoked fish, casks of salted cucumbers, festoons of dried mushrooms, "cartwheels" of sour black bread, and other favorite edibles, in the open-fronted booths. a delicious banquet it was,--one of those which recur to the memory unbidden when more elaborate meals have been forgotten. returning to the wharf with a fresh stock of patience, we watched the river traffic and steamers of rival lines, which had avoided sand-banks, as they took in their fuel supplies of refuse petroleum from the scows anchored in mid-stream, and proceeded on their voyage to astrakhan. some wheelbarrow steamers, bearing familiar names, "niagara" and the like, pirouetted about in awkward and apparently aimless fashion. passengers who seemed to be better informed than we as to the ways of steamers began to make their appearance. a handsome officer deposited his red-cotton-covered traveling-pillow and luggage on the dock and strolled off, certain that no one would unlock his trunk or make way with his goods. the trunk, not unusual in style, consisted of a red-and-white tea-cloth, whose knotted corners did not wholly repress the exuberance of linen and other effects through the bulging edges. a young tatar, endowed with india-rubber capabilities in the way of attitudes, and with a volubility surely unrivaled in all taciturn kazan, chatted interminably with a young russian woman, evidently the wife of a petty shopkeeper. they bore the intense heat with equal equanimity, but their equanimity was clad in oddly contrasting attire. the woman looked cool and indifferent buttoned up in a long wadded pelisse, with a hot cotton kerchief tied close over ears, under chin, and tucked in at the neck. the tatar squatted on his haunches, folded in three nearly equal parts. a spirally ribbed flat fez of dark blue velvet, topped with a black silk tassel, adorned his cleanly shaven head. his shirt, of the coarsest linen, was artistically embroidered in black, yellow, and red silks and green linen thread in turanian designs, and ornamented with stripes and diamonds of scarlet cotton bestowed unevenly in unexpected places. it lay open on his dusky breast, and fell unconfined over full trousers of home-made dark blue linen striped with red, like the gussets under the arms of his white shirt. the trousers were tucked into high boots, slightly wrinkled at the instep, with an inset of pebbled horsehide, frosted green in hue, at the heels. this green leather was a part of their religion, the tatars told me, but what part they would not reveal. as the soles were soft, like socks, he wore over his boots a pair of stiff leather slippers, which could be easily discarded on entering the mosque, in compliance with the moslem law requiring the removal of foot-gear. several peasants stood about silently, patiently, wrapped in their sheepskin coats. apparently they found this easier than carrying them, and they were ready to encounter the chill night air in the open wooden bunks of the third-class, or on the floor of the fourth-class cabin. the soiled yellow leather was hooked close across their breasts, as in winter. an occasional movement displayed the woolly interior of the _tulup's_ short, full ballet skirt attached to the tight-fitting body. the peasants who thus tranquilly endured the heat of fur on a midsummer noon would, did circumstances require it, bear the piercing cold of winter with equal calmness clad in cotton shirts, or freeze to death on sentry duty without a murmur. they were probably on their way to find work during the harvest and earn a few kopeks, and very likely would return to their struggling families as poor as they went. as we watched this imperturbable crowd, we became infected with their spirit of unconcern, and entered into sympathy with the national _saytchas_--a case of atmospheric influence. at last the steamer arrived, none the worse for its encounter with the bar. usually, the mail steamers halt three hours--half-merchandise steamers four hours--at kazan and other important towns on the volga, affording hasty travelers an opportunity to make a swift survey in a drosky; but on this occasion one hour was made to suffice, and at last we were really off on our way to the estate down the river where we were to pay our long-promised visit. we were still at a reach of the river where the big steamer might sit down on another reef, and the men were kept on guard at the bow, with hardly an intermission, gauging the depth of the water with their striped poles, to guide the helmsman by their monotonous calls: "_vosim!_" "_schest-s-polovino-o-o-iu!_" "_sim!_" (eight! six and a half! seven!) they had a little peculiarity of pronunciation which was very pleasing. and we soon discovered that into shallower water than five and a half quarters we might not venture. the river was extremely animated above the mouth of the kama, the great waterway from the mines and forests of the ural and siberia. now and then, the men on a float heavily laden with iron bars, which was being towed to the fair at nizhni novgorod, would shout a request that we would slacken speed, lest they be swamped with our swell. huge rafts of fine timber were abundant, many with small chapel-like structures on them, which were not chapels, however. cattle steamers passed, the unconfined beasts staring placidly over the low guards of the three decks, and uttering no sound. we had already learned that the animals are as quiet as the people, in russia, the great silent land. very brief were our halts at the small landings. the villagers, who had come down with baskets of fresh rolls and berries and bottles of cream, to supply hungry passengers whose means or inclination prevented their eating the steamer food, had but scant opportunity to dispose of their perishable wares. as the evening breeze freshened, the perfume of the hayfields was wafted from the distant shores in almost overpowering force. the high right bank, called the hills, and the low left shore, known as the forests, sank into half-transparent vagueness, which veiled the gray log-built villages with their tiny windows, and threw into relief against the evening sky only the green roofs and blue domes of the churches, surmounted by golden crosses, which gleamed last of all in the vanishing rays of sunset. a boatload of peasants rowing close in shore; a red-shirted solitary figure straying along the water's edge; tiny sea-gulls darting and dipping in the waves around the steamer; a vista up some wide-mouthed affluent; and a great peaceful stillness brooding over all,--such were the happenings, too small for incidents, which accorded perfectly with the character of the volga. for the volga cannot be compared with the rhine or the hudson in castles or scenery. it has, instead, a grand, placid charm of its own, imperial, indefinable, and sweet. one yields to it, and subscribes to the russian faith in the grand river. no one seemed to know how much of the lost time would be made up. were it spring, when mother volga runs from fifty to a hundred and fifty miles wide, taking the adjoining country into her broad embrace, and steamers steer a bee-line course to their landings, the officers might have been able to say at what hour we should reach our destination. as it was, they merely reiterated the characteristic "_ne znaem_" (we don't know), which possesses plural powers of irritation when uttered in the conventional half-drawl. perhaps they really did not know. owing to a recent decree in the imperial navy, officers who have served a certain number of years without having accomplished a stipulated amount of sea service are retired. since the russian war vessels are not many, while the naval academy continues to turn out a large batch of young officers every year, the opportunities for effecting the requisite sea service are limited. the officers who are retired, in consequence, seek positions on the volga steamers, which are sometimes commanded by a rear-admiral, in the imperial uniform, which he is allowed to retain, in addition to receiving a grade. but if one chances upon them during their first season on the river, their information is not equal to their fine appearance, since mother volga must be studied in her caprices, and navigation is open only, on the average, between the th of april and the th of november. useless to interrogate the old river dogs among the subordinates. the "we don't know" is even more inveterate with them, and it is reinforced with the just comment, "we are not the masters." knowing nothing, in the general uncertainty, except that we must land some time during the night, we were afraid to make ourselves comfortable even to the extent of unpacking sheets to cool off the velvet divans, which filled two sides of our luxurious cabin. when we unbolted the movable panels from the slatted door and front wall, to establish a draft of fresh air from the window, a counter-draft was set up of electric lights, supper clatter, cigarette smoke, and chatter, renewed at every landing with the fresh arrivals. we resolved to avoid these elegant mail steamers in the future, and patronize the half-merchandise boats of the same line, which are not much slower, and possess the advantage of staterooms opening on a corridor, not on the saloon, and are fitted with skylights, so that one can have fresh air and quiet sleep. at four o'clock in the morning we landed. the local policeman, whose duty it is to meet steamers, gazed at us with interest. the secret of his meditations we learned later. he thought of offering us his services. "they looked like strangers, but talked russian," he said. the combination was too much for him, and, seeing that we were progressing well in our bargain for a conveyance, he withdrew, and probably solved the riddle with the aid of the postboy. the estate for which we were bound lay thirty-five versts distant; but fearing that we might reach it too early if we were to start at once, i ordered an equipage for six o'clock. i was under the impression that the man from the posting-house had settled it for us that we required a pair of horses, attached to whatever he thought fit, and that i had accepted his dictation. the next thing to do, evidently, was to adopt the russian stop-gap of tea. the wharfinger, who occupied a tiny tenement on one end of the dock, supplied us with a bubbling _samovar_, sugar, and china, since we were not traveling in strictly russian style, with a fragile-nosed teapot and glasses. we got out our tea, steeped and sipped it, nibbling at a bit of bread, in that indifferent manner which one unconsciously acquires in russia. it is only by such experience that one comes to understand the full--or rather scanty--significance of that puzzling and oft-recurring phrase in russian novels, "drinking tea." as we were thus occupied in one of the cells, furnished with a table and two hard stuffed benches, to accommodate waiting passengers, our postboy thrust his head in at the door and began the subject of the carriage all over again. i repeated my orders. he said, "_kharasho_" (good), and disappeared. we dallied over our tea. we watched the wharfinger's boys trying to drown themselves in a cranky boat, like the young male animals of all lands; we listened to their shrill little songs; we counted the ducks, gazed at the peasants assembled on the brow of the steep hill above us, on which the town was situated, and speculated about the immediate future, until the time fixed and three quarters of an hour more had elapsed. the wharfinger's reply to my impatient questions was an unvarying apathetic "we don't know," and, spurred to action by this, i set out to find the posting-house. it was not far away, but my repeated and vigorous knocks upon the door of the _izba_ (cottage), ornamented with the imperial eagle and the striped pole, received no response. i pushed open the big gate of the courtyard alongside, and entered. half the court was roofed over with thatch. in the far corner, divorced wagon bodies, running-gear, and harnesses lay heaped on the earth. a horse, which was hitched to something unsubstantial among those fragments, came forward to welcome me. a short row of wagon members which had escaped divorce, and were united in wheeling order, stood along the high board fence. in one of them, a rough wooden cart, shaped somewhat like a barrel sawed in two lengthwise, pillowed on straw, but with his legs hanging down in an uncomfortable attitude, lay my faithless postboy (he was about forty years of age) fast asleep. the neighboring vehicle, which i divined to be the one intended for us, was in possession of chickens. a new-laid egg bore witness to their wakefulness and industry. while i was engaged in an endeavor to rouse my should-be coachman, by tugging at his sleeve and pushing his boots in the most painful manner i could devise, a good-looking peasant woman made her tardy appearance at the side door of the adjoining _izba_, and seemed to enjoy the situation in an impartial, impersonal way. the horse thrust his muzzle gently into his master's face and roused him for me, and, in return, was driven away. i demanded an explanation. extracted by bits in conversational spirals, it proved to be that he had decided that the carriage needed three horses, which he had known all along; and, chiefly, that he had desired to sleep upon a little scheme for exploiting the strangers. how long he had intended to pursue his slumberous meditations it is impossible to say. he dragged me through all the mazes of that bargain once more. evidently, bargaining was of even stricter etiquette than my extensive previous acquaintance had led me to suspect; and i had committed the capital mistake of not complying with this ancestral custom in the beginning. i agreed to three horses, and stipulated, on my side, that fresh straw should replace the chickens' nest, and that we should set out at once,--not _saytchas_ but sooner, "this very minute." i turned to go. a fresh difficulty arose. he would not go unless i would pay for three relays. he brought out the government regulations and amendments,--all that had been issued during the century, i should think. he stood over me while i read them, and convinced myself that his "_yay bogu_" (god is my witness) was accurately placed. the price of relays was, in reality, fixed by law; but though over-affirmation had now aroused my suspicions, in my ignorance of the situation i could not espy the loophole of trickery in which i was to be noosed, and i agreed once more. more quibbling. he would not stir unless he were allowed to drive the same horses the whole distance, though paid for three relays, because all the horses would be away harvesting, and so forth and so on. goaded to assert myself in some manner, to put an end to these interminable hagglings, i asserted what i did not know. "prince x. never pays for these relays," i declared boldly. "oh, no, he does n't," replied the man, with cheerful frankness. "but you must, or i'll not go." that settled it; i capitulated once more. we had omitted to telegraph to our friends, partly in order to save them the trouble of sending a carriage, partly because we were thirsting for "experiences." it began to look as though our thirst was to be quenched in some degree, since we were in this man's power as to a vehicle, and it might be true that we should not be able to obtain any other in the town, or any horses in the villages, if indeed there were any villages. fortified by another volley of "_yay bogu_" of triumphant fervor, we survived a second wait. at last, near nine o'clock, we were able to pack ourselves and our luggage. the body of our _tarantas_, made, for the sake of lightness, of woven elm withes, and varnished dark brown, was shaped not unlike a baby carriage. such a wagon body costs about eight dollars in kazan, where great numbers of them are made. it was set upon stout, unpainted running-gear, guiltless of springs, in cat's-cradle fashion. the step was a slender iron stirrup, which revolved in its ring with tantalizing ease. it was called a _pletuschka,_ and the process of entering it resembled vaulting on horseback. our larger luggage was tied on behind with ropes, in precarious fashion. the rest we took inside and deposited at our feet. as there was no seat, we flattened ourselves out on the clean hay, and practiced delsartean attitudes of languor. our three horses were harnessed abreast. the reins were made in part of rope; so were the traces. our _yamtschik_ had donned his regulation coat over his red shirt, and sat unblenchingly through the heat. all preliminaries seemed to be settled at last. i breathed a sigh of relief, as we halted at the posting-house to pay our dues in advance, and i received several pounds of copper coin in change, presumably that i might pay the non-existent relays. the _troika_ set off with spirit, and we flattered ourselves that we should not be long on the road. this being a county town, there were some stone official buildings in addition to the cathedral, of which we caught a glimpse in the distance. but our road lay through a suburb of log cabins, through a large gate in the wattled town fence, and out upon the plain. for nearly five hours we drove through birch forests, over rolling downs, through a boundless ocean of golden rye, diversified by small patches of buckwheat, oats, millet, and wheat. but wheat thrives better in the adjoining government, and many peasants, we are told, run away from pressing work and good wages at hand to harvest where they will get white bread to eat, and return penniless. here and there, the small, weather-beaten image of some saint, its face often indistinguishable through stress of storms, and shielded by a rough triangular penthouse, was elevated upon a pole, indicating the spot where prayers are said for the success of the harvest. corn-flowers, larkspur, convolvulus, and many other flowers grew profusely enough among the grain to come under the head of weeds. the transparent air allowed us vast vistas of distant blue hills and nearer green valleys, in which nestled villages under caps of thatch, encircled by red-brown fences cleverly wattled of long boughs. in one hollow we passed through a village of the tchuvashi, a turkish or finnish tribe, which was stranded all along the middle volga in unrecorded antiquity, during some of the race migrations from the teeming plateaux of asia. the village seemed deserted. only a few small children and grannies had been left at home by the harvesters, and they gazed curiously at us, aroused to interest by the jingling harness with its metal disks, and the bells clanging merrily from the apex of the wooden arch which rose above the neck of our middle horse. the grain closed in upon us. we plucked some ears as we passed, and found them ripe and well filled. the plain seemed as trackless as a forest, and our postboy suspected, from time to time, that he had lost his way among the narrow roads. a few peasant men whom we encountered at close quarters took off their hats, but without servility, and we greeted them with the customary good wishes for a plentiful harvest, "_bog v pomozh_" (god help), or with a bow. the peasant women whom we met rarely took other notice of us than to stare, and still more rarely did they salute first. they gazed with instinctive distrust, as women of higher rank are wont to do at a stranger of their own sex. although the grain was planted in what seemed to be a single vast field, belonging to one estate, it was in reality the property of many different peasants, as well as of some proprietors. each peasant had marked his plot with a cipher furrow when he plowed, and the outlines had been preserved by the growing grain. the rich black soil of the fallow land, and strips of turf separating sections, relieved the monotony of this waving sea of gold. the heat was intense. in our prone position, we found it extremely fatiguing to hold umbrellas. we had recourse, therefore, to the device practiced by the mountaineers of the caucasus, who, in common with the spaniards, believe that what will keep out cold will also keep out heat. we donned our heavy wadded pelisses. the experiment was a success. we arrived cool and tranquil, in the fierce heat, at the estate of our friends, and were greeted with fiery reproaches for not having allowed them to send one of their fifteen or twenty carriages for us. but we did not repent, since our conduct had secured for us that novel ride and a touch of our coveted "experience," in spite of the strain of our thirty hours' vigil and the jolts of the springless vehicle. then we discovered the exact extent of our _yamtschik's_ trick. he had let us off on fairly easy terms, getting not quite half more than his due. by the regular route, we might really have had three relays and made better time, had we been permitted. by the short cut which our wily friend had selected, but one change was possible. this left the price of two changes to be credited to his financial ability (in addition to the tea-money of gratitude, which came in at the end, all the same), and the price of the one which he would not make. and, as i was so thoughtless as not to hire him to carry away those pounds of "relay" copper, i continued to be burdened with it until i contrived to expend it on peasant manufactures. the postboy bore the reputation of being a very honest fellow, i learned,--something after the pattern of the charming cabby who drove us to count tolstoy's estate. the village, like most russian villages, was situated on a small river, in a valley. it consisted of two streets: one running parallel with the river, the other at right angles to it, on the opposite bank. the connecting bridge had several large holes in it, on the day of our arrival, which were mended, a few days later, with layers of straw and manure mixed with earth. we continued, during the whole period of our stay, to cross the bridge, instead of going round it, as we had been advised to do with russian bridges, by russians, in the certainty that, if we came near drowning through its fault, it would surely furnish us with an abundance of straws to catch at. in one corner of the settlement, a petty bourgeois,--there is no other word to define him,--the son of a former serf, and himself born a serf, had made a mill-pond and erected cloth-mills. his "european" clothes (long trousers, sack coat, derby hat) suited him as ill as his wife's gaudy silk gown, and sunday bonnet in place of the kerchief usual with the lower classes, suited her face and bearing. he was a quiet, unassuming man, but he was making over for himself a handsome house, formerly the residence of a noble. probably the money wherewith he had set up in business had been wrung out of his fellow-peasants in the profession of a _kulak_, or "fist," as the people expressively term peasant usurers. on the other side of the river stood the church, white-walled, green-roofed, with golden cross, like the average country church, with some weather stains, and here and there a paling missing from the fence. near at hand was the new schoolhouse, with accommodations for the master, recently erected by our host. beyond this began the inclosure surrounding the manor house, and including the cottages of the coachmen and the steward with their hemp and garden plots, the stables and carriage houses, the rickyard with its steam threshing machine and driers, and a vast abandoned garden, as well as the gardens in use. the large brick mansion, with projecting wings, had its drawing-rooms at the back, where a spacious veranda opened upon a flower-bordered lawn, terminating in shady acacia walks, and a grove which screened from sight the peasant cottages on the opposite bank of the river. a hedge concealed the vegetable garden, where the village urchins were in the habit of pilfering their beloved cucumbers with perfect impunity, since a wholesome spanking, even though administered by the elder of the commune, might result in the spanker's exile to siberia. another instance of the manner in which the peasants are protected by the law, in their wrongs as well as their rights, may be illustrated by the case of a load of hay belonging to the owner of the estate, which, entering the village in goodly proportions, is reduced to a few petty armfuls by the time it reaches the barn, because of the handfuls snatched in passing by every man, woman, and child in the place. no sound of the village reached us in our retreat except the choral songs of the maidens on holiday evenings. we tempted them to the lawn one night, and overcame their bashfulness by money for nuts and apples. the airs which they sang were charming, but their voices were undeniably shrill and nasal, and not always in harmony. we found them as reluctant to dance as had been the peasants at count tolstoy's village. here we established ourselves for the harvest-tide. ii. our life at prince x.'s estate on the volga flowed on in a semi-monotonous, wholly delightful state of lotus-eating idleness, though it assuredly was not a case which came under the witty description once launched by turgeneff broadside at his countrymen: "the russian country proprietor comes to revel and simmer in his ennui like a mushroom frying in sour cream." ennui shunned that happy valley. we passed the hot mornings at work on the veranda or in the well-filled library, varying them by drives to neighboring estates and villages, or by trips to the fields to watch the progress of the harvest, now in full swing. such a visit we paid when all the able-bodied men and women in the village were ranged across the landscape in interminable lines, armed with their reaping-hooks, and forming a brilliant picture in contrast with the yellow grain, in their blue and scarlet raiment. they were fulfilling the contract which bound them to three days' labor for their landlord, in return for the pasturage furnished by him for their cattle. a gay kerchief and a single clinging garment, generally made of red and blue in equal portions, constituted the costume of the women. the scanty garments were faded and worn, for harvesting is terribly hard work, and they cannot use their good clothes, as at the haying, which is mere sport in comparison. most of the men had their heads protected only by their long hair, whose sunburnt outer layer fell over their faces, as they stooped and reaped the grain artistically close to the ground. their shirts were of faded red cotton; their full trousers, of blue-and-red-striped home-made linen, were confined by a strip of coarse crash swathed around the feet and legs to the knee, and cross-gartered with ropes. the feet of men and women alike were shod with low shoes of plaited linden bark over these cloths. they smiled indulgently at our attempts to reap and make girdles for the sheaves,--the sickles seemed to grow dull and back-handed at our touch,--chatting with the dignified ease which characterizes the russian peasant. the small children had been left behind in the village, in charge of the grandams and the women unfit for field labor. baby had been brought to the scene of action, and installed in luxury. the cradle, a cloth distended by poles, like that of peter the great, which is preserved in the museum of the kremlin at moscow, was suspended from the upturned shafts of a _telyega_ by a stiff spiral spring of iron, similar to the springs used on bird-cages. the curtain was made of the mother's spare gown, her _sarafan_. baby's milk-bottle consisted of a cow's horn, over the tip of which a cow's teat was fastened. i had already seen these dried teats for sale in pairs, in the popular markets, but had declined to place implicit faith in the venders' solemn statements as to their use. it was the season which the peasants call by the expressive title _strada_ (suffering). nearly all the summer work must be done together, and, with their primitive appliances, suffering is the inevitable result. they set out for the fields before sunrise, and return at indefinite hours, but never early. sometimes they pass the night in the fields, under the shelter of a cart or of the grain sheaves. men and women work equally and unweariedly; and the women receive less pay than the men for the same work, in the bad old fashion which is, unhappily, not yet unknown in other lands and ranks of life. eating and sleeping join the number of the lost arts. the poor, brave people have but little to eat in any case,--not enough to induce thought or anxiety to return home. last year's store has, in all probability, been nearly exhausted. they must wait until the grain which they are reaping has been threshed and ground before they can have their fill. one holiday they observe, partly perforce, partly from choice, though it is not one of the great festivals of the church calendar,--st. ilya's day. st. ilya is the christian representative of the old slavic god of thunder, perun, as well as of the prophet elijah. on or near his name day, july (old style), he never fails to dash wildly athwart the sky in his chariot of fire; in other words, there is a terrific thunderstorm. such is the belief; such, in my experience, is the fact, also. sundays were kept so far as the field work permitted, and the church was thronged. even our choir of ill-trained village youths and boys could not spoil the ever-exquisite music. there were usually two or three women who expected to become mothers before the week was out, and who came forward to take the communion for the last time, after the newborn babes and tiny children had been taken up by their mothers to receive it. every one was quiet, clean, reverent. the cloth-mill girls had discovered our (happily) obsolete magenta, and made themselves hideous in flounced petticoats and sacks of that dreadful hue. the sister of our lukerya, the maid who had been assigned to us, thus attired, felt distinctly superior. lukerya would have had the bad taste to follow her example, had she been permitted, so fast are evil fashions destroying the beautiful and practical national costumes. little did lukerya dream that she, in her peasant garb, with her thick nose and rather unformed face, was a hundred times prettier than annushka, with far finer features and "fashionable" dress. independent and "fashionable" as many of these villagers were, they were ready enough to appeal to their former owners in case of illness or need; and they were always welcomed. like most russian women who spend any time on their estates, our hostess knew a good deal about medicine, which was necessitated by the circumstance that the district doctor lived eight miles away, and had such a wide circuit assigned to him that he could not be called in except for serious cases. many of the remedies available or approved by the peasants were primitive, not to say heroic. for example, one man, who had exhausted all other remedies for rheumatism, was advised to go to the forest, thrust the ailing foot and leg into one of the huge ant-hills which abounded there, and allow the ants to sting him as long as he could bear the pain, for the sake of the formic acid which would thus be injected into the suffering limb. i confess that i should have liked to be present at this bit of-- surgery, shall i call it? it would have been an opportunity for observing the russian peasant's stoicism and love of suffering as a thing good in itself. the peasants came on other errands, also. one morning we were startled, at our morning coffee, by the violent irruption into the dining-room, on his knees, of a man with clasped hands uplifted, rolling eyes, and hair wildly tossing, as he knocked his head on the floor, kissed our hostess's gown, and uttered heart-rending appeals to her, to heaven, and to all the saints. "_barynya!_ dear mistress!" he wailed. "forgive! _yay bogu_, it was not my fault. the virgin herself knows that the carpenter forced me to it. i'll never do it again, never. god is my witness! _barynya! ba-a-rynya! ba-a-a-a-a-a-rynya!_" in an indescribable, subdued howl. he was one of her former serfs, the keeper of the dramshop; and the carpenter, that indispensable functionary on an isolated estate, had "drunk up" all his tools (which did not belong to him, but to our hostess) at this man's establishment. the sly publican did not offer to return them, and he would not have so much as condescended to promises for the misty future, had he not been aware that the law permits the closing of pothouses on the complaint of proprietors in just such predicaments as this, as well as on the vote of the peasant commune. having won temporary respite by his well-acted anguish, he was ready to proceed again on the national plan of _avos_ which may be vulgarly rendered into english by "running for luck." but even more attractive than these house diversions and the village were the other external features of that sweet country life. the mushroom season was beginning. equipped with baskets of ambitious size, we roamed the forests, which are carpeted in spring with lilies of the valley, and all summer long, even under the densest shadow, with rich grass. we learned the home and habits of the shrimp-pink mushroom, which is generally eaten salted; of the fat white and birch mushrooms, with their chocolate caps, to be eaten fresh; of the brown and green butter mushroom, most delicious of all to our taste, and beloved of the black beetle, whom we surprised at his feast. however, the mushrooms were only an excuse for dreaming away the afternoons amid the sweet glints of the fragrant snowy birch-trees and the green-gold flickerings of the pines, in the "black forest," which is a forest composed of evergreens and deciduous trees. now and then, in our rambles, we met and skirted great pits dug in the grassy roads to prevent the peasants from conveniently perpetrating thefts of wood. once we came upon a party of timber-thieves (it was sunday afternoon), who espied us in time to rattle off in their rude _telyega_ with their prize, a great tree, at a rate which would have reduced ordinary flesh and bones to a jelly; leaving us to stare helplessly at the freshly hewn stump. tawny hares tripped across our path, or gazed at us from the green twilight of the bushes, as we lay on the turf and discussed all things in the modern heaven and earth, from theosophy and keely's motor to--the other extreme. when the peasants had not forestalled us, we returned home with masses of mushrooms, flower-like in hue,--bronze, pink, snow-white, green, and yellow; and osip cooked them delicately, in sour cream, to accompany the juicy young blackcock and other game of our host's shooting. osip was a _cordon bleu_, and taxed his ingenuity to initiate us into all the mysteries of russian cooking, which, under his tuition, we found delicious. the only national dish which we never really learned to like was one in which he had no hand,--fresh cucumbers sliced lengthwise and spread thick with new honey, which is supposed to be eaten after the honey has been blessed, with the fruits, on the feast of the transfiguration, but which in practice is devoured whenever found, as the village priest was probably aware. the priest was himself an enthusiastic keeper of bees in odd, primitive hives. it was really amazing to note the difference between the good, simple-mannered old man in his humble home, where he received us in socks and a faded cassock, and nearly suffocated us with vivaciously repetitious hospitality, tea, and preserves, and the priest, with his truly majestic and inspired mien, as he served the altar. among the wild creatures in our host's great forests were hares, wolves, moose, and bears. the moose had retreated, for the hot weather, to the lakes on the crown lands adjacent, to escape the maddening attacks of the gadflies. though it was not the hungry height of the season with the wolves, there was always an exciting possibility of encountering a stray specimen during our strolls, and we found the skull and bones of a horse which they had killed the past winter. from early autumn these gray terrors roam the scene of our mushroom-parties, in packs, and kill cattle in ill-protected farmyards and children in the villages. it was too early for hare-coursing or wolf-hunting, but feathered game was plentiful. great was the rivalry in "bags" between our host and the butler, a jealously keen sportsman. his dog, modistka (the little milliner), had taught the clever pointer milton terribly bad tricks of hunting alone, and was even initiating her puppies into the same evil ways. when "monsieur, madame, and bebe;" returned triumphantly from the forest with their booty, and presented it to their indignant masters, there were fine scenes! bebe and his brothers of the litter were so exactly alike in every detail that they could not be distinguished one from the other. hence they had been dubbed _tchinovniki_ (the officials), a bit of innocent malice which every russian can appreciate. of the existence of bears we had one convincing glimpse. we drove off, one morning, in a drizzling rain, to picnic on a distant estate of our host, in a "red" or "beautiful" forest (the two adjectives are synonymous in russian), which is composed entirely of pines. during our long tramp through a superb growth of pines, every one of which would have furnished a mainmast for the largest old-fashioned ship, a bear stepped out as we passed through a narrow defile, and showed an inclination to join our party. the armed russian and mordvinian foresters, our guides and protectors, were in the vanguard; and as misha seemed peaceably disposed we relinquished all designs on his pelt, consoling ourselves with the reflection that it would not be good at this season of the year. we camped out on the crest of the hill, upon a huge rug, soft and thick, the work of serfs in former days, representing an art now well-nigh lost, and feasted on nut-sweet crayfish from the volga, new potatoes cooked in our gypsy kettle, curds, sour black bread, and other more conventional delicacies. the rain pattered softly on us, --we disdained umbrellas,--and on the pine needles, rising in hillocks, here and there, over snowy great mushrooms, of a sort to be salted and eaten during fasts. the wife of the priest, who is condemned to so much fasting, had a wonderfully keen instinct for these particular mushrooms, and had explained to us all their merits, which seemed obscure to our non-fasting souls. our russian forester regaled us with forest lore, as we lay on our backs to look at the tops of the trees. but, to my amazement, he had never heard of the _leshi_ and the _vodyanoi_, the wood-king and water-king of the folk-tales. at all events, he had never seen them, nor heard their weird frolics in the boughs and waves. the mordvinian contributed to the entertainment by telling us of his people's costumes and habits, and gave us a lesson in his language, which was of the tatar-finnish variety. like the tchuvashi and other tribes here on the volga, the mordvinians furnish pleasurable excitement and bewilderment to ethnographists and students of religions. these simple amusements came to an end all too soon, despite the rain. we were seized with a fancy to try the peasant _telyega_ for the descent, and packed ourselves in with the rug and utensils. our mordvinian, swarthy and gray-eyed, walked beside us, casting glances of inquiry at us, as the shaggy little horse plunged along, to ascertain our degrees of satisfaction with the experiment. he thrust the dripping boughs from our faces with graceful, natural courtesy; and when we alighted, breathless and shaken to a pulp, at the forester's hut, where our carriages awaited us, he picked up the hairpins and gave them to us gravely, one by one, as needed. we were so entirely content with our _telyega_ experience that we were in no undue haste to repeat it. we drove home in the persistent rain, which had affected neither our bodies nor our spirits, bearing a trophy of unfringed gentians to add to our collection of goldenrod, harebells, rose-colored fringed pinks, and other familiar wild flowers which reminded us of the western hemisphere. the days were too brief for our delights. in the afternoons and evenings, we took breezy gallops through the forests, along the boundary sward of the fields, across the rich black soil of that third of the land which, in the "three-field" system of cultivation, is allowed to lie fallow after it has borne a crop of winter grain, rye, and one of summer grain, oats. we watched the peasants plowing or scattering the seed-corn, or returning, mounted side-saddle fashion on their horses, with their primitive plows reversed. only such rich land could tolerate these adam-like earth-scratchers. as we met the cows on their way home from pasture, we took observations, to verify the whimsical barometer of the peasants; and we found that if a light-hued cow headed the procession the next day really was pretty sure to be fair, while a dark cow brought foul weather. as the twilight deepened, the quail piped under the very hoofs of our horses; the moon rose over the forest, which would soon ring with the howl of wolves; the fresh breath of the river came to us laden with peculiar scents, through which penetrated the heavy odor of the green-black hemp. one day the horses were ordered, as usual. they did not appear. the cavalryman who had been hired expressly to train them had not only neglected his duty, but had run away, without warning, to reap his own little field, in parts unknown. he had carefully observed silence as to its existence, when he was engaged. this was item number one. item number two was that there was something the matter with all the horses, except little boy, little bird, and the small white bashkir horse from the steppes, whose ear had been slit to subdue his wildness. the truth was, the steward's young son had been practicing high jumping, bareback, in a circus costume of pink calico shirt and trousers, topped by his tow-colored hair. we had seen this surreptitious performance, but considered it best to betray nothing, as the lad had done so well in the village school that our hosts were about to send him to town, to continue his studies at their expense. the overseer, another soldier, was ordered to don his uniform and accompany us. he rebelled. "he had just got his hair grown to the square state which suited his peasant garb, and it would not go with his dragoon's uniform in the least. why, he would look like a kazak! impossible, utterly!" he was sternly commanded not to consider his hair; this was not the city, with spectators. when he finally appeared, in full array, we saw that he had applied the shears to his locks, in a hasty effort to compromise between war and peace without losing the cut. the effect was peculiar; it would strike his commanding officer dumb with mirth and horror. he blushed in a deprecating manner whenever we glanced at him. there was a bath-house beside the river. but a greater luxury was the hot bath, presided over by old alexandra. alexandra, born a serf on the estate, was now like a humble member of the family, the relations not having changed, perceptibly, since the emancipation, to the old woman's satisfaction. she believed firmly in the _domovoi_ (the house sprite), and told wonderful tales of her experiences with him. skepticism on that point did not please her. when the horses were brought round with matted manes, a sign of an affectionate visit from the _domovoi_, which must not be removed, under penalty of his displeasure, it was useless to tell alexandra that a weasel had been caught in the act, and that her sprite was no other. she clung to her belief in her dreaded friend. the bath was a small log house, situated a short distance from the manor. it was divided into anteroom, dressing-room, and the bath proper. when we were ready, alexandra, a famous bath-woman, took boiling water from the tank in the corner oven, which had been heating for hours, made a strong lather, and scrubbed us soundly with a wad of linden bast shredded into fibres. her wad was of the choicest sort; not that which is sold in the popular markets, but that which is procured by stripping into rather coarse filaments the strands of an old mat-sack, such as is used for everything in russia, from wrappers for sheet iron to bags for carrying a pound of cherries. after a final douche with boiling water, we mounted the high shelf, with its wooden pillow, and the artistic part of the operation began. as we lay there in the suffocating steam, alexandra whipped us thoroughly with a small besom of birch twigs, rendered pliable and secure of their tender leaves by a preliminary plunge in boiling water. when we gasped for breath, she interpreted it as a symptom of speechless delight, and flew to the oven and dashed a bucket of cold water on the red-hot stones placed there for the purpose. the steam poured forth in intolerable clouds; but we submitted, powerless to protest. alexandra, with all her clothes on, seemed not to feel the heat. she administered a merciless yet gentle massage to every limb with her birch rods,--what would it have been like if she had used nettles, the peasants' delight?--and rescued us from utter collapse just in time by a douche of ice-cold water. we huddled on all the warm clothing we owned, were driven home, plied with boiling tea, and put to bed for two hours. at the end of that time we felt made over, physically, and ready to beg for another birching. but we were warned not to expose ourselves to cold for at least twenty-four hours, although we had often seen peasants, fresh from their bath, birch besom in hand, in the wintry streets of the two capitals. we visited the peasants in their cottages, and found them very reluctant to sell anything except towel crash. all other linen which they wove they needed for themselves, and it looked as even and strong as iron. here in the south the rope-and-moss-plugged log house stood flat on the ground, and was thatched with straw, which was secured by a ladder-like arrangement of poles along the gable ends. three tiny windows, with tinier panes, relieved the street front of the house. the entrance was on the side, from the small farmyard, littered with farming implements, chickens, and manure, and inclosed with the usual fence of wattled branches. from the small ante-room designed to keep out the winter cold, the store-room opened at the rear, and the living-room at the front. the left hand corner of the living-room, as one entered, was occupied by the oven, made of stones and clay, and whitewashed. in it the cooking was done by placing the pots among the glowing wood coals. the bread was baked when the coals had been raked out. later still, when desired, the owners took their steam bath, more resembling a roasting, inside it, and the old people kept their aged bones warm by sleeping on top of it, close to the low ceiling. round three sides of the room ran a broad bench, which served for furniture and beds. in the right-hand corner, opposite the door,--the "great corner" of honor,--was the case of images, in front of which stood the rough table whereon meals were eaten. this was convenient, since the images were saluted, at the beginning and end of meals, with the sign of the cross and a murmured prayer. the case contained the sacred picture wherewith the young couple were blessed by their parents on their marriage, and any others which they might have acquired, with possibly a branch of their palm sunday pussy willows. a narrow room, monopolizing one of the windows, opened from the living-room, beyond the oven, and served as pantry and kitchen. a wooden trough, like a chopping-tray, was the washtub. the ironing or mangling apparatus consisted of a rolling-pin, round which the article of clothing was wrapped, and a curved paddle of hard wood, its under-surface carved in pretty geometrical designs, with which it was smoothed. this paddle served also to beat the clothes upon the stones, when the washing was done in the river, in warm weather. a few wooden bowls and spoons and earthen pots, including the variety which keeps milk cool without either ice or running water, completed the household utensils. add a loom for weaving crash, the blue linen for the men's trousers and the women's scant _sarafans_, and the white for their aprons and chemises, and the cloth for coats, and the furnishing was done. the village granaries, with wattled walls and thatched roofs, are placed apart, to lessen the danger from fire, near the large gates which give admission to the village, through the wattled fence encircling it. these gates, closed at night, are guarded by peasants who are unfitted, through age or infirmities, for field labor. they employ themselves, in their tiny wattled lean-tos, in plaiting the low shoes of linden bark, used by both men and women, in making carts, or in some other simple occupation. an axe--a whole armory of tools to the russian peasant-- and an iron bolt are their sole implements. we were cut off from intercourse with one of the neighboring estates by the appearance there of the siberian cattle plague, and were told that, should it spread, arrivals from that quarter would be admitted to the village only after passing through the disinfecting fumes of dung fires burning at the gate. incendiaries and horse-thieves are the scourges of village life in russia. such men can be banished to siberia, by a vote of the commune of peasant householders. but as the commune must bear the expense, and people are afraid that the evil-doer will revenge himself by setting the village on fire, if he discovers their plan, this privilege is exercised with comparative rarity. the man who steals the peasant's horse condemns him to starvation and ruin. such a man there had been in our friends' village, and for long years they had borne with him patiently. he was crafty and had "influence" in some mysterious fashion, which made him a dangerous customer to deal with. but at last he was sent off. now, during our visit, the village was trembling over a rumor that he was on his way back to wreak vengeance on his former neighbors. i presume they were obliged to have him banished again, by administrative order from the minister of the interior,--the only remedy when one of this class of exiles has served out his term,--before they could sleep tranquilly. when seen in his village home, it is impossible not to admire the hard-working, intelligent, patient, gentle, and sympathetic _muzhik_, in spite of all his faults. we made acquaintance with some of his democratic manners during a truly unique picnic, arranged by our charming hosts expressly to convince us that the famous sterlet merited its reputation. we had tried it in first-class hotels and at their own table, as well as at other private tables, and we maintained that it was merely a sweet, fine-grained, insipid fish. "wait until we show you _zhiryokha_ [sterlet grilled in its own fat] and _ukha_ [soup] as prepared by the fishermen of the volga. the petersburg and moscow people cannot even tell you the meaning of the word '_zhiryokha_'" was the reply. "as for the famous 'amber' soup, you have seen that even osip's efforts do not deserve the epithet." accordingly, we assembled one morning at seven o'clock, to the sound of the hunting-horn, to set out for a point on the volga twelve miles distant. we found milton, the milliner, and the whole litter of officials in possession of the carriage, and the coachman's dignity relaxed into a grin at their antics, evoked by a suspicion that we were going hunting. our vehicle, on this occasion, as on all our expeditions to field and forest, was a stoutly built, springless carriage, called a _lineika_, or little line, which is better adapted than any other to country roads, and is much used. in kazan, by some curious confusion of ideas, it is called a "guitar." another nickname for it is "the lieutenant's coach," which was bestowed upon it by the emperor nicholas. the tzar came to visit one of the volga provinces, and found a _lineika_ awaiting him at the landing, for the reason that nothing more elegant, and with springs, could scale the ascent to the town, over the rough roads. the landed proprietors of that government were noted for their dislike for the service of the state, which led them to shirk it, regardless of the dignity and titles to be thus acquired. they were in the habit of retiring to their beloved country homes when they had attained the lowest permissible rung of that wonderful jacob's ladder leading to the heaven of officialdom, established by peter the great, and dubbed the table of ranks. this grade was lieutenant in the army or navy, and the corresponding counselor in the civil service. the story runs that nicholas stretched himself out at full length on it for a moment, and gave it its name. naturally, such men accepted the emperor's jest as a compliment, and perpetuated its memory. this style of carriage, which i have already described in my account of our visit to count tolstoy, is a development of the russian racing-gig, which is also used for rough driving in the country, by landed proprietors. in the latter case it is merely a short board, bare or upholstered, on which the occupant sits astride, with his feet resting on the forward axle. old engravings represent this uncomfortable model as the public carriage of st. petersburg at the close of the last century. our _troika_ of horses was caparisoned in blue and red leather, lavishly decorated with large metal plaques and with chains which musically replaced portions of the leather straps. over the neck of the middle horse, who trotted, rose an ornamented arch of wood. the side horses, loosely attached by leather thongs, galloped with much freedom and grace, their heads bent downward and outward, so that we could watch their beautiful eyes and crimson nostrils. our coachman's long _armyak_ of dark blue cloth, confined by a gay girdle, was topped by a close turban hat of black felt, stuck all the way round with a row of eyes from a peacock's tail. he observed all the correct rules of russian driving, dashing up ascents at full speed, and holding his arms outstretched as though engaged in a race, which our pace suggested. our road to the volga lay, at first, through a vast grainfield, dotted with peasants at the harvest. miles of sunflowers followed. they provide oil for the poorer classes to use in cooking during the numerous fasts, when butter is forbidden, and seeds to chew in place of the unattainable peanut. our goal was a village situated beneath lofty chalk hills, dazzling white in the sun. a large portion of the village, which had been burned a short time before, was already nearly rebuilt, thanks to the ready-made houses supplied by the novel wood-yards of samara. the butler had been dispatched on the previous evening, with a wagon-load of provisions and comforts, and with orders to make the necessary arrangements for a boat and crew with fisherman piotr. but, for reasons which seemed too voluble and complicated for adequate expression, piotr had been as slow of movement as my bumptious _yamtschik_ of the posting-station, and nothing was ready. piotr, like many elderly peasants, might sit for the portrait of his apostolic namesake. but he approved of more wine "for the stomach's sake" than any apostle ever ventured to recommend, and he had ingenious methods of securing it. for example, when he brought crayfish to the house, he improved the opportunity. the fishermen scorn these dainties, and throw them out of the nets. the fact that they were specially ordered was sufficient hint to piotr. he habitually concealed them in the steward's hemp patch or some other handy nook, and presented himself to our host with the announcement that he would produce them when he was paid his "tea-money" in advance, in the shape of a glass of _vodka_. the swap always took place. in spite of this weakness, piotr was a very well-to-do peasant. we inspected his establishment and tasted his cream, while he was exhausting his stock of language. his house was like all others of that region in plan, and everything was clean and orderly. it had an air about it as if no one ever ate or really did any work there, which was decidedly deceptive, and his living-room contained the nearest approach to a bed and bedding which we had seen: a platform supported by two legs and the wall, and spread with a small piece of heavy gray and black felt. finding that piotr's eloquence had received lengthy inspiration, we bore him off, in the middle of his peroration, to the river, where we took possession of a boat with a chronic leak, and a prow the exact shape of a sterlet's nose reversed. but piotr swore that it was the stanchest craft between astrakhan and rybinsk, and intrepidly took command, steering with a long paddle, while four alert young peasants plied the oars. piotr's costume consisted of a cotton shirt and brief trousers. the others added caps, which, however, they wore only spasmodically. a picnic without singing was not to be thought of, and we requested the men to favor us with some folk-songs. no bashful schoolgirls could have resisted our entreaties with more tortuous graces than did those untutored peasants. one of them was such an exact blond copy of a pretty brunette american, whom we had always regarded as the most affected of her sex, that we fairly stared him out of countenance, in our amazement; and we made mental apologies to the american on the spot. "please sing 'adown dear mother volga,'" the conversation ran. "we can't sing." "we don't know it." "you sing it and show us how, and we will join in." the affected one capped the climax with "it's not in the mo-o-o-ode now, that song!" with a delicate assumption of languor which made his comrades explode in suppressed convulsions of mirth. finally they supplied the key, but not the keynote. "give us some _vodka_, and we may, perhaps, remember something." promises of _vodka_ at the end of the voyage, when the danger was over, were rejected without hesitation. we reached our breakfast-ground in profound silence. fortunately, the catch of sterlet at this stand had been good. the fishermen grilled some "in their own fat," by salting them and spitting them alive on peeled willow wands, which they thrust into the ground, in a slanting position, over a bed of glowing coals. anything more delicious it would be difficult to imagine; and we began to revise our opinion of the sterlet. in the mean time our boatmen had discovered some small, sour ground blackberries, which they gallantly presented to us in their caps. their feelings were so deeply wounded by our attempts to refuse this delicacy that we accepted and actually ate them, to the great satisfaction of the songless rogues who stood over us. our own fishing with a line resulted in nothing but the sport and sunburn. we bought a quantity of sterlet, lest the fishermen at the camp where we had planned to dine should have been unlucky, placed them in a net such as is used in towns for carrying fish from market, and trailed them in the water behind our boat. we were destined to experience all possible aspects of a volga excursion, that day, short of absolute shipwreck. as we floated down the mighty stream, a violent thunderstorm broke over our heads with the suddenness characteristic of the country. we were wet to the skin before we could get at the rain-cloaks on which we were sitting, but our boatmen remained as dry as ever, to our mystification. in the middle of the storm, our unworthy vessel sprung a fresh leak, the water poured in, and we were forced to run aground on a sand-bank for repairs. these were speedily effected, with a wad of paper, by piotr, who, with a towel cast about his head and shoulders, looked more like an apostle than ever. it appeared that our fishing-camp had moved away; but we found it, at last, several miles downstream, on a sand-spit backed with willow bushes. it was temporarily deserted, save for a man who was repairing a net, and who assured us that his comrades would soon return from their trip, for supplies, to the small town which we could discern on the slope of the hillshore opposite. there was nothing to explore on our sand-reef except the fishermen's primitive shelter, composed of a bit of sail-cloth and a few boards, furnished with simple cooking utensils, and superintended by a couple of frolicsome kittens, who took an unfeline delight in wading along in the edge of the water. so we spread ourselves out to dry on the clean sand, in the rays of the now glowing sun, and watched the merchandise, chiefly fish, stacked like cord wood, being towed up from astrakhan in great barges. at last our fisher hosts arrived, and greeted us with grave courtesy and lack of surprise. they began their preparations by scouring out their big camp kettle with beach sand, and building a fire at the water's edge to facilitate the cleaning of the fish. we followed their proceedings with deep interest, being curious to learn the secret of the genuine "amber sterlet soup." this was what we discovered. the fish must be alive. they remain so after the slight preliminaries, and are plunged into the simmering water, heads and all, the heads and the parts adjacent being esteemed a delicacy. no other fish are necessary, no spices or ingredients except a little salt, the cookery-books to the contrary notwithstanding. the sterlet is expensive in regions where the cook-book flourishes, and the other fish are merely a cheat of town economy. the scum is not removed,--this is the capital point,--but stirred in as fast as it rises. if the _ukha_ be skimmed, after the manner of professional cooks, the whole flavor and richness are lost. while the soup was boiling and more sterlet were being grilled in their own fat, as a second course, our men pitched our tent and ran up our flag, and the butler set the table on our big rug. it was lucky that we had purchased fish at our breakfast-place, as no sterlet had been caught at this camp. when the soup made its appearance, we comprehended the epithet "amber" and its fame. of a deep gold, almost orange color, with the rich fat, and clear as a topaz, it was utterly unlike anything we had ever tasted. we understood the despair of parisian gourmets and cooks, and we confirmed the verdict, provisionally announced at breakfast, that the sterlet is the king of all fish. as it is indescribable, i may be excused for not attempting to do justice to it in words. while we feasted, the fishermen cooked themselves a kettle of less dainty fish, as a treat from us, since the fish belong to the contractor who farms the ground, not to the men. their meal ended, the regulation cross and prayer executed, they amiably consented to anticipate the usual hour for casting their net, in order that we might see the operation. the net, two hundred and fifty fathoms in length, was manoeuvred down the long beach well out in the stream by one man in a boat, and by five men on shore, who harnessed themselves to a long cable by halters woven from the soft inner bark of the linden-tree. we grasped the rope and helped them pull. we might not have been of much real assistance, but we learned, at least, how heavy is this toil, repeated many times a day, even when the pouch reveals so slender a catch as in the present instance. there was nothing very valuable in it, though there was variety enough, and we were deceived, for a moment, by several false sterlet. the small _samovar_ which we had brought gave us a steaming welcome, on our return to camp. perched on the fishermen's seatless chair and stool, and on boxes, we drank our tea and began our preparations for departure, bestowing a reward on the men, who had acted their parts as impromptu hosts to perfection. it was late; but our men burst into song, when their oars dipped in the waves, as spontaneously as the nightingales which people these shores in springtime,--inspired probably by the full moon, which they melodiously apostrophized as "the size of a twenty-kopek bit." they sang of stenka razin, the bandit chief, who kept the volga and the caspian sea in a state of terror during the reign of peter the great's father; of his "poor people, good youths, fugitives, who were no thieves nor brigands, but only stenka razin's workmen." they declared, in all seriousness, that he had been wont to navigate upon a felt rug, like the one we had seen in piotr's cottage; and they disputed over the exact shade of meaning contained in the words which he was in the habit of using when he summoned a rich merchant vessel to surrender as his prize. evidently, stenka was no semi-epic, mythical hero to them, but a living reality. "adown dear mother volga, adown her mighty sweep," they sang; and suddenly ran the boat aground, and fled up the steep slope like deer, carrying with them their tall winter boots of gray felt, which had lain under the thwarts all day. we waited, shivering in the keen night air, and wondering whether we were deserted on this lonely reach of the river at midnight. if the apostle peter understood the manoeuvre, he was loyal and kept their counsel. he gave no comfort beyond the oracular _saytchas_, which we were intended to construe as meaning that they would be back in no time. when they did return, after a long absence, their feet were as bare as they had been all day. their boots were borne tenderly in their arms, and were distended to their utmost capacity with apples! in answer to our remonstrances, they replied cheerfully that the night was very warm, and that the apples came from "their garden, over yonder on the bank." on further questioning, their village being miles distant, they retorted, with a laugh, that they had gardens all along the river; and they offered to share their plunder with us. the affected one tossed an apple past my head, with the cry, "catch, sasha!" to our host, of whose familiar name he had taken note during the day. after this and other experiences, we were prepared to credit an anecdote which had been related to us of a peasant in that neighborhood, to illustrate the democratic notions of his class which prevailed even during the days of serfdom. one of the provincial assemblies, to which nobles and peasants have been equally eligible for election since the emancipation, met for the first time, thus newly constituted. one of the nobles, desirous of making the peasants feel at home, rose and began:-- "we bid you welcome, our younger brothers, to this "-- "we are nobody's inferiors or younger brothers any more," interrupted a peasant member, "and we will not allow you to call us so." the nobles took the hint, and made no further unnecessary advances. yes, these volga peasants certainly possess as strong a sense of democratic equality as any one could wish. but the soft ingenuousness of their manners and their tact disarm wrath at the rare little liberties which they take. even their way of addressing their former masters by the familiar "thou" betokens respectful affection, not impertinence. our men soon wearied of pulling against the powerful current, dodging the steamers and the tug-boats with their strings of barks signaled by constellations of colored lanterns high in air. perhaps they would have borne up better had we been able to obtain some astrakhan watermelons from the steamer wharves, which we besieged in turn as we passed. they proposed to tow us. on piotr's assurance that it would be a far swifter mode of locomotion, and that they would pay no more visits to "their gardens," we consented. they set up a mast through an opening in one of the thwarts, passed through a hole in its top a cord the size of a cod-line, fastened this to the stern of the boat, and leaped ashore with the free end. off they darted, galloping like horses along the old tow-path, and singing vigorously. piotr remained on board to steer. as we dashed rapidly through the water, we gained practical knowledge of the manner in which every pound of merchandise was hauled to the great fair from astrakhan, fourteen hundred and forty miles, before the introduction of steamers, except in the comparatively rare cases where oxen were made to wind windlasses on the deck of a bark. it would have required hours of hard rowing to reach our goal; but by this means we were soon walking across the yielding sands to piotr's cottage. our cunning rogues of boatmen took advantage of our scattered march to obtain from us separately such installments of tea-money as must, in the aggregate, have rendered them hilarious for days to come, if they paid themselves for their minstrelsy in the coin which they had suggested to us before breakfast. piotr's smiling wife, who was small, like most russian peasant women, had baked us some half-rye, half-wheat bread, to our order; she made it remarkably well, much better than osip. we secured a more lasting memento of her handiwork in the form of some towel ends, which she had spun, woven, drawn, and worked very prettily. some long-haired heads were thrust over the oven-top to inspect us, but the bodies did not follow. they were better engaged in enjoying the heat left from the baking. it was two o'clock in the morning when we drove through the village flock of sheep, that lay asleep on the grassy street. with hand on pistol, to guard against a possible stray wolf, we dashed past the shadowy chalk hills; past the nodding sunflowers, whose sleepy eyes were still turned to the east: past the grainfields, transmuted from gold to silver by the moonlight; past the newly plowed land, which looked like velvet billows in its depths of brown, as the moon sank lower and lower beyond in a mantle of flame. by this time practice had rendered us expert in retaining our seats in the low, springless _lineika_; fortunately, for we were all three quarters asleep at intervals, with excess of fresh air. even when the moon had gone down, and a space of darkness intervened before the day, our headlong pace was not slackened for a moment. as we drove up to the door, in the pearl-pink dawn, tulip, the huge yellow mastiff with tawny eyes, the guardian of the courtyard, received us with his usual ceremony, through which pierced a petition for a caress. we heeded him not. by six o'clock we were fast asleep. not even a packet of letters from home could keep our eyes open after that four-and-twenty hours' picnic, which had been unmarred by a single fault, but which had contained all the "experiences" and "local color" which we could have desired. how can i present a picture of all the variations in those sweet, busy-idle days? they vanished all too swiftly. but now the rick-yard was heaped high with golden sheaves; the carts came in steady lines, creaking under endless loads, from those fields which, two years later, lay scorched with drought, and over which famine brooded. the peasant girls tossed the grain, with forked boughs, to the threshing-machine, tended by other girls. the village boys had a fine frolic dragging the straw away in bundles laid artfully on the ends of two long poles fastened shaft-wise to the horse's flanks. we had seen the harvesting, the plowing with the primitive wooden plow, the harrowing with equally simple contrivances, and the new grain was beginning to clothe the soil with a delicate veil of green. it was time for us to go. during our whole visit, not a moment had hung heavy on our hands, here in the depths of the country, where visitors were comparatively few and neighbors distant, such had been the unwearied attention and kindness of our hosts. we set out for the river once more. this time we had a landau, and a cart for our luggage. as we halted to drink milk in the tchuvash village, the inhabitants who chanced to be at home thronged about our carriage. we espied several women arrayed in their native costume, which has been almost entirely abandoned for the russian dress, and is fast becoming a precious rarity. the men have already discarded their dress completely for the russian. we sent one of the women home to fetch her sunday gown, and purchased it on the spot. such a wonderful piece of work! the woman had spun, woven, and sewed it; she had embroidered it in beautiful turanian, not russian, patterns, with silks,--dull red, pale green, relieved by touches of dark blue; she had striped it lengthwise with bands of red cotton and embroidery, and crosswise with fancy ribbons and gay calicoes; she had made a mosaic of the back which must have delighted her rear neighbors in church; and she had used the gown with such care that, although it had never been washed, it was not badly soiled. one piece for the body, two for the head, a sham pocket,--that was all. the footgear consisted of crash bands, bast slippers, rope cross-garters. the artists to whom i showed the costume, later on, pronounced it an ethnographical prize. these tchuvashi are a small, gray-eyed, olive-skinned race, with cheek-bones and other features like the tatars, but less well preserved than with the latter, in spite of their always marrying among themselves. there must have been dilution of the race at some time, if the characteristics were as strongly marked as with the tatars, in their original ancestors from asia. most of them are baptized into the russian faith, and their villages have russian churches. nevertheless, along with their native tongue they are believed to retain many of their ancient pagan customs and superstitions, although baptism is in no sense compulsory. the priest in our friends' village, who had lived among them, had told us that such is the case. but he had also declared that they possess many estimable traits of character, and that their family life is deserving of imitation in more than one particular. this village of theirs looked prosperous and clean. the men, being brought more into contact with outsiders than the women, speak russian better than the latter, and more generally. it is not exactly a case which proves woman's conservative tendencies. on reaching the river, and finding that no steamer was likely to arrive for several hours, we put up at the cottage of a prosperous peasant, which was patronized by many of the neighboring nobles, in preference to the wretched inns of that suburb of the wharves. the "best room" had a citified air, with its white curtains, leaf plants, pretty china tea service, and photographs of the family on the wall. these last seemed to us in keeping with the sewing-machine which we had seen a peasant woman operating in a shop of the little posting-town inland. they denoted progress, since many peasants cherish religious scruples or superstitions about having their portraits taken in any form. the athletic sons, clad only in shirts and trousers of sprigged print, with fine chestnut hair, which compensated for their bare feet, vacated the room for our use. they and the house were as clean as possible. outside, near the entrance door, hung the family washstand, a double-spouted teapot of bronze suspended by chains. but it was plain that they did not pin their faith wholly to it, and that they took the weekly steam bath which is customary with the peasants. not everything was citified in the matter of sanitary arrangements. but these people seemed to thrive, as our ancestors all did, and probably regarded us as over-particular. to fill in the interval of waiting, we made an excursion to the heart of the town, and visited the pretty public garden overhanging the river, and noteworthy for its superb dahlias. as we observed the types of young people who were strolling there, we recognized them, with slight alterations only, which the lapse of time explained, from the types which we had seen on the stage in ostrovsky's famous play "the thunderstorm." the scene of that play is laid on the banks of the volga, in just such a garden; why should it not have been on this spot? all peasant _izbui_ are so bewilderingly alike that we found our special cottage again with some difficulty, by the light of the young moon. by this time "the oldest inhabitant" had hazarded a guess as to the line whose steamer would arrive first. accordingly, we gathered up our small luggage and our tchuvash costume, and fairly rolled down the steep, pathless declivity of slippery turf, groping our way to the right wharf. how the luggage cart got down was a puzzle. here we ordered in the _samovar_, and feasted until far into the night on the country dainties which we had brought with us, supplemented by one of the first watermelons from astrakhan, which we had purchased from a belated dealer in the deserted town market. the boat was late, as a matter of course; but we understood the situation now, and asked no questions. when it arrived, we and our charming hosts, whose society we were to enjoy for a few days longer, embarked for samara, to visit the famous kumys establishments on the steppes. russian harvest-tide was over for us, leaving behind a store of memories as golden as the grain, fitly framed on either hand by mother volga. xi. the russian kumys cure. it is not many years since every pound of freight, every human being, bound to astrakhan from the interior of russia simply floated down the river volga with the current. the return journey was made slowly and painfully, in tow of those human beasts of burden, the _burlaki_. the traces of their towpath along the shores may still be seen, and the system itself may even be observed at times, when light barks have to be forced upstream for short distances. then some enterprising individual set up a line of steamers, in the face of the usual predictions from the wiseacres that he would ruin himself and all his kin. the undertaking proved so fabulously successful and profitable that a wild rush of competition ensued. but the competition seems to have consisted chiefly in the establishment of rival lines of steamers, and there are some peculiarities of river travel which still exist in consequence. one of these curious features is that each navigation company appears to have adopted a certain type of steamer at the outset, and not to have improved on that original idea to any marked degree. there are some honorable exceptions, it is true, and i certainly have a very definite opinion concerning the line which i would patronize on a second trip. another idea, to which they have clung with equal obstinacy, though it is far from making amends for the other, is that a journey is worth a certain fixed sum per verst, utterly regardless of the vast difference in the accommodations offered. possibly it is a natural consequence of having been born in america, and of having heard the american boast of independence and progress and the foreign boast of conservatism contrasted ever since i learned my alphabet, not to exaggerate unduly, that i should take particular notice of all illustrations of these conflicting systems. generally speaking, i advocate a judicious mixture of the two, in varying proportions to suit my taste on each special occasion. but there are times when i distinctly favor the broadest independence and progress. these volga steamers had afforded me a subject for meditations on this point, at a distance, even before i was obliged to undergo personal experience of the defects of conservatism. before i had sailed four and twenty hours on the broad bosom of matushka volga, i was able to pick out the steamers of all the rival lines at sight with the accuracy of a veteran river pilot. there was no great cleverness in that, i hasten to add; anybody but a blind man could have done as much; but that only makes my point the more forcible. it was when we set out for samara that we realized most keenly the beauties of enterprise in this direction. we had, nominally, a wide latitude of choice, as all the lines made a stop at our landing. but when we got tired of waiting for the steamer of our preference,--the boats of all the lines being long overdue, as usual, owing to low water in the river,--and took the first which presented itself, we found that the latitude in choice, so far as accommodations were concerned, was even greater than had been apparent at first sight. fate allotted us one of the smaller steamers, the more commodious boats having probably "sat down on a sand-bar," as the local expression goes. the one on which we embarked had only a small dining-room and saloon, one first-class cabin for men and one for women, all nearly on a level with the water, instead of high aloft, as in the steamers which we had hitherto patronized, and devoid of deck-room for promenading. the third-class cabin was on the forward deck. the second-class cabin was down a pair of steep, narrow stairs, whose existence we did not discover when we went on board at midnight, and which did not tempt us to investigation even when we arose the next morning. fortunately, there were no candidates except ourselves and a russian friend for the six red velvet divans ranged round the walls of the tiny "ladies' cabin," and the adjoining toilet-room, and the man of the party enjoyed complete seclusion in the men's cabin. in the large boats, for the same price, we should have had separate staterooms, each accommodating two persons. however, everything was beautifully clean, as usual on russian steamers so far as my experience goes, and it made no difference for one night. the experience was merely of interest as a warning. the city of samara, as it presented itself to our eyes the next morning, was the liveliest place on the river volga next to nizhni novgorod. while it really is of importance commercially, owing to its position on the volga and on the railway from central russia, as a depot for the great siberian trade through orenburg, the impression of alertness which it produces is undoubtedly due to the fact that it presents itself to full view in the foreground, instead of lying at a distance from the wharves, or entirely concealed. an american, who is accustomed to see railways and steamers run through the very heart of the cities which they serve, never gets thoroughly inured to the russian trick of taking important towns on faith, because it has happened to be convenient to place the stations out of sight and hearing, sometimes miles out of the city. another striking point about samara is the abundance of red brick buildings, which is very unusual, not to say unprecedented, in most of the older russian towns, which revel in stucco washed with white, blue, and yellow. but the immediate foreground was occupied with something more attractive than this. the wharves, the space between them, and all the ground round about were fairly heaped with fruit: apples in bewildering variety, ranging from the pink-and-whiteskinned "golden seeds" through the whole gamut of apple hues; round striped watermelons and oval cantaloupes with perfumed orange-colored flesh, from astrakhan; plums and grapes. after wrestling with these fascinations and with the merry _izvostchiki_, we set out on a little voyage of discovery, preparatory to driving out to the famous kumys establishments, where we had decided to stay instead of in the town itself. much of samara is too new in its architecture, and too closely resembles the simple, thrifty builders' designs of a mushroom american settlement, to require special description. although it is said to have been founded at the close of the sixteenth century, to protect the russians from the incursions of the kalmucks, bashkirs, and nogai tatars, four disastrous conflagrations within the last forty-five years have made way for "improvements" and entailed the loss of characteristic features, while its rank as one of the chief marts for the great siberian trade has caused a rapid increase in population, which now numbers between seventy-five and eighty thousand. one modern feature fully compensates, however, by its originality, for a good many commonplace antiquities. near the wharves, on our way out of the town, we passed a lumber-yard, which dealt wholly in ready-made log houses. there stood a large assortment of cottages, in the brilliant yellow of the barked logs, of all sizes and at all prices, from fifteen to one hundred dollars, forming a small suburb of samples. the lumber is floated down the volga and her tributaries from the great forests of ufa, and made up in samara. the peasant purchaser disjoints his house, floats it to a point near his village, drags it piecemeal to its proper site, sets it up, roofs it, builds an oven and a chimney of stones, clay, and whitewash, plugs the interstices with rope or moss, smears them with clay if he feels inclined, and his house is ready for occupancy. although such houses are cheap and warm, it would be a great improvement if the people could afford to build with brick, so immense is the annual loss by fire in the villages. brick buildings are, however, far beyond the means of most peasants, let them have the best will in the world, and the ready-made cottages are a blessing, though every peasant is capable of constructing one for himself on very brief notice, if he has access to a forest. but forests are not so common nowadays along the volga, and, as the advertisements say, this novel lumber-yard "meets a real want." when the samarcand railway was opened, a number of these cottages, in the one-room size, were placed on platform cars, and to each guest invited to the ceremony was assigned one of these unique drawing-room-car coupes. about four miles from the town proper, on the steppe, lie two noted kumys establishments; one of them being the first resort of that kind ever set up, at a time when the only other choice for invalids who wished to take the cure was to share the hardships, dirt, bad food, and carelessly prepared kumys of the tented nomads of the steppes. the grounds of the one which we had elected to patronize extended to the very brink of the volga. in accordance with the admonitions of the specialist physicians to avoid many-storied, ill-ventilated buildings with long corridors, the hotel consists of numerous wooden structures, of moderate size, chiefly in moorish style, and painted in light colors, scattered about a great inclosure which comprises groves of pines and deciduous trees,--"red forest" and "black forest," as russians would express it,--lawns, arbors, shady walks, flower-beds, and other things pleasing to the eye, and conducive to comfort and very mild amusement. one of the buildings even contains a hall, where dancing, concerts, and theatricals can be and are indulged in, in the height of the season, although such violent and crowded affairs as balls are, in theory, discountenanced by the physicians. all these points we took in at one curious glance, as we were being conducted to the different buildings to inspect rooms. i am afraid that we pretended to be very difficult to please, in order to gain a more extensive insight into the arrangements. as the height of the season (which is may and june) was past, we had a great choice offered us, and i suppose that this made a difference in the price, also. it certainly was not unreasonable. we selected some rooms which opened on a small private corridor. the furniture consisted of the usual narrow iron bedstead (with linen and pillows thrown in gratis, for a wonder), a tiny table which disagreeably recalled american ideas as to that article, an apology for a bureau, two armchairs, and no washstand. the chairs were in their primitive stuffing-and-burlap state, loose gray linen covers being added when the rooms were prepared for us. any one who has ever struggled with his temper and the slack-fitting shift of a tufted armchair will require no explanation as to what took place between me and my share of those untufted receptacles before i deposited its garment under my bed, and announced that burlap and tacks were luxurious enough for me. that one item contained enough irritation and excitement to ruin any "cure." the washstand problem was even more complicated. a small, tapering brass tank, holding about two quarts of water, with a faucet which dripped into a diminutive cup with an unstoppered waste-pipe, was screwed to the wall in our little corridor. we asked for a washstand, and this arrangement was introduced to our notice, the chambermaid being evidently surprised at the ignorance of barbarians who had never seen a washstand before. we objected that a mixed party of men and women could not use that decently, even if two quarts of water were sufficient for three women and a man. after much argument and insistence, we obtained, piecemeal: item, one low stool; item, one basin; item, one pitcher. there were no fastenings on the doors, except a hasp and staple to the door of the corridor, to which, after due entreaty, we secured an oblong padlock. the next morning, the chambermaid came to the door of our room opening on the private corridor while we were dressing, and demanded the basin and pitcher. "some one else wants them!" she shouted through the door. we had discovered her to be a person of so much decision of character, in the course of our dealings with her on the preceding day, that we were too wary to admit her, lest she should simply capture the utensils and march off with them. as i was the heaviest of the party, it fell to my lot to brace myself against the unfastened door and parley with her. three times that woman returned to the attack; thrice we refused to surrender our hard-won trophies, and asked her pointedly, "what do you do for materials when the house is full, pray?" afterwards, while we were drinking our coffee on the delightful half-covered veranda below, which had stuffed seats running round the walls, and a flower-crowned circular divan in the centre, a lively testimony to the dryness of the atmosphere, we learned that the person who had wanted the basin and pitcher was the man of our party. he begged us not to inquire into the mysteries of his toilet, and refused to help us solve the riddle of the guests' cleanliness when the hotel was full. i assume, on reflection, however, that they were expected to take russian or plain baths every two or three days, to rid themselves of the odor of the kumys, which exudes copiously through the pores of the skin and scents the garments. on other days a "lick and a promise" were supposed to suffice, so that their journals must have resembled that of the man who wrote: "monday, washed myself. tuesday, washed hands and face. wednesday, washed hands only." that explanation is not wholly satisfactory, either, because the russians are clean people. as coffee is one of the articles of food which are forbidden to kumys patients, though they may drink tea without lemon or milk, we had difficulty in getting it at all. it was long in coming; bad and high-priced when it did make its appearance. as we were waiting, an invalid lady and the novice nun who was in attendance upon her began to sing in a room near by. they had no instrument. what it was that they sang, i do not know. it was gentle as a breath, melting as a sigh, soft and slow like a conventional chant, and sweet as the songs of the russian church or of the angels. there are not many strains in this world upon which one hangs entranced, in breathless eagerness, and the memory of which haunts one ever after. but this song was one of that sort, and it lingers in my memory as a pure delight; in company with certain other fragments of church music heard in that land, as among the most beautiful upon earth. i may as well tell at once the whole story of the food, so far as we explored its intricate mysteries. we were asked if we wished to take the _table d'hote_ breakfast in the establishment. we said "yes," and presented ourselves promptly. we were served with beefsteak, in small, round, thick pieces. "what queer beefsteak!" said one of our russian friends. "is there no other meat?" "no, madam." we all looked at it for several minutes. we said it was natural, when invalids drank from three to five bottles of the nourishing kumys a day, that they should not require much extra food, and that the management provided what variety was healthy and advisable, no doubt; only we would have liked a choice; and--what queer steak! the first sniff, the first glance at that steak, of peculiar grain and dark red hue, had revealed the truth to _us_. but we saw that our russian friends were not initiated, and we knew that their stomachs were delicate. we exchanged signals, took a mouthful, declared it excellent, and ate bravely through our portions. the russians followed our example. well--it was much tenderer and better than the last horseflesh to which we had been treated surreptitiously; but i do not crave horseflesh as a regular diet. it really was not surprising at a kumys establishment, where the horse is worshiped, alive or dead, apparently, in tatar fashion. that afternoon we made it convenient to take our dinner in town, on the veranda of a restaurant which overlooked the busy volga, with its mobile moods of sunset and thunderstorm, where we compensated ourselves for our unsatisfactory breakfast by a characteristically russian dinner, of which i will omit details, except as regards the soup. this soup was _botvinya_. a russian once obligingly furnished me with a description of a foreigner's probable views on this national delicacy: "a slimy pool with a rock in the middle, and creatures floating round about." the rock is a lump of ice (_botvinya_ being a cold soup) in the tureen of strained _kvas_ or sour cabbage. _kvas_ is the sour, fermented liquor made from black bread. in this liquid portion of the soup, which is colored with strained spinach, floated small cubes of fresh cucumber and bits of the green tops from young onions. the solid part of the soup, served on a platter, so that each person might mix the ingredients according to his taste, consisted of cold boiled sterlet, raw ham, more cubes of cucumber, more bits of green onion tops, lettuce, crayfish, grated horseradish, and granulated sugar. the first time i encountered this really delectable dish, it was served with salmon, the pale, insipid northern salmon. i supposed that the lazy waiter had brought the soup and fish courses together, to save himself trouble, and i ate them separately, while i meditated a rebuke to the waiter and a strong description of the weak soup. the tables were turned on me, however, when mikhei appeared and grinned, as broadly as his not overstrict sense of propriety permitted, at my unparalleled ignorance, while he gave me a lesson in the composition of _botvinya_. that _botvinya_ was not good, but this edition of it on the banks of the volga, with sterlet, was delicious. we shirked our meals at the establishment with great regularity, with the exception of morning coffee, which was unavoidable, but we did justice to its kumys, which was superb. theoretically, the mares should have had the advantage of better pasturage, at a greater distance from town; but, as they cannot be driven far to milk without detriment, that plan involves making the kumys at a distance, and transporting it to the "cure." there is another famous establishment, situated a mile beyond ours, where this plan is pursued. ten miles away the mares pasture, and the kumys is made at a subsidiary cure, where cheap quarters are provided for poorer patients. but, either on account of the transportation under the hot sun, or because the professional "taster" is lacking in delicacy of perception, we found the kumys at this rival establishment coarse in both flavor and smell, in comparison with that at our hostelry. our mares, on the contrary, were kept close by, and the kumys was prepared on the spot. it is the first article of faith in the creed of the kumys expert that no one can prepare this milk wine properly except tatars. hence, when any one wishes to drink it at home, a tatar is sent for, the necessary mares are set aside for him, and he makes what is required. but the second article of faith is that kumys is much better when made in large quantities. the third is that a kumys specialist, or doctor, is as indispensable for the regulation of the cure as he is at mineral springs. the fourth article in the creed is that mares grazing on the rich plume-grass of the steppe produce milk which is particularly rich in sugar, very poor in fat, and similar to woman's milk in its proportion of albumen, though better furnished: all which facts combine to give kumys whose chemical proportions differ greatly from those of kumys prepared elsewhere. moreover, on private estates it is not always possible to observe all the conditions regarding the choice and care of the mares. at our establishment there were several tatars to milk the mares and make the kumys. the wife of one of them, a tatar beauty, was the professional taster, who issued her orders like an autocrat on that delicate point. she never condescended to work, and it was our opinion that she ought to devote herself to dress, in her many leisure hours, instead of lounging about in ugly calico sacks and petticoats, as hideous as though they had originated in a backwoods farm in new england. she explained, however, that she was in a sort of mourning. her husband was absent, and she could not make herself beautiful for any one until his return, which she was expecting every moment. she spent most of her time in gazing, from a balcony on the cliff, up the river, toward the bend backed by beautiful hills, to espy her husband on the steamer. as he did not come, we persuaded her, by arguments couched in silver speech, to adorn herself on the sly for us. then she was afraid that the missing treasure might make his appearance too soon, and she made such undue haste that she faithlessly omitted the finishing touch,-- blacking her pretty teeth. i gathered from her remarks that something particularly awful would result should she be caught with those pearls obscured in the presence of any other man when her husband was not present; but she may have been using a little diplomacy to soothe us. though she was not a beauty in the ordinary sense of the occident, she certainly was when dressed in her national garb, as i had found to be the case with the russian peasant girls. her loose sack, of a medium but brilliant blue woolen material, fell low over a petticoat of the same terminating in a single flounce. her long black hair was carefully braided, and fell from beneath an embroidered cap of crimson velvet with a rounded end which hung on one side in a coquettish way. her neck was completely covered with a necklace which descended to her waist like a breast-plate, and consisted of gold coins, some of them very ancient and valuable, medals, red beads, and a variety of brilliant objects harmoniously combined. her heavy gold bracelets had been made to order in kazan after a pure tatar model, and her soft-soled boots of rose-pink leather, with conventional designs in many-colored moroccos, sewed together with rainbow-hued silks, reached nearly to her knees. her complexion was fresh and not very sallow, her nose rather less like a button than is usual; her high cheek-bones were well covered, and her small dark eyes made up by their brilliancy for the slight upward slant of their outer corners. tatar girls, who made no pretensions to beauty in dress or features, did the milking, and were aided in that and the other real work connected with kumys-making by tatar men. according to the official programme, the mares might be milked six or eight times a day, and the yield was from a half to a whole bottle apiece each time. milk is always reckoned by the bottle in russia. i presume the custom arose from the habit of sending the _muzhik_ ("boots") to the dairy-shop with an empty wine-bottle to fetch the milk and cream for "tea," which sometimes means coffee in the morning. the mare's milk has a sweetish, almond-like flavor, and is very thin and bluish in hue. at three o'clock in the morning, the mares are taken from the colts and shut up in a long shed which is not especially weather-proof. in fact, there is not much "weather" except wind to be guarded against on the steppe. in about two hours, when the milk has collected, the colts follow them voluntarily, and are admitted and allowed to suck for a few seconds. halters are then thrown about their necks, and they are led forward where the mothers can nose them over and lick them. the milkmaid's second assistant then puts a halter on the neck of a mare and holds her, or ties up one leg if she be restive. in the mean time the foolish creature continues to let down milk for her foal. the milkmaid kneels on one knee and holds her pail on the other, after having washed her hands carefully and wiped off the teats with a clean, damp cloth. if the mare resists at first, the milk obtained must not be used for kumys, as her agitation affects the milk unfavorably. roan, gray, and chestnut mares are preferred, and in order to obtain the best milk great care must be exercised in the choice of pasture and the management of the horses, as well as in all the minor details of preparation. the milking-pails are of tin or of oak wood, and, like the oaken kumys churn, have been boiled in strong lye to extract the acid, and well dried and aired. in addition to the daily washing they are well smoked with rotten birch trunks, in order to destroy all particles of kumys which may cling to them. the next step after the milk is obtained is to ferment it. the ferment, or yeast, is obtained by collecting the sediment of the kumys which has already germinated, and washing it off thoroughly with milk or water. it is then pressed and dried in the sun, the result being a reddish-brown mass composed of the micro-organisms contained in kumys ferment, casein, and a small quantity of fat. twenty grains of this yeast are ground up in a small quantity of freshly drawn milk in a clean porcelain mortar, and shaken in a quart bottle with one pound of fresh milk,--all mare's milk, naturally,--after which it is lightly corked with a bit of wadding and set away in a temperature of + degrees to + degrees reaumur. in about twenty-four hours small bubbles begin to make their appearance, accompanied by the sour odor of kumys. the bottle is then shaken from time to time, and the air admitted, until it is in a condition to be used as a ferment with fresh milk. sometimes this ferment fails, in which case an artificial ferment is prepared. one pint of ferment is allowed to every five pints of fresh milk in the cask or churn, and the whole is beaten with the dasher for about an hour, when it is set aside in a temperature of + degrees to + degrees reaumur. when, at the expiration of a few hours, the milk turns sour and begins to ferment vigorously, it is beaten again several times for about fifteen minutes, with intervals, with a dasher which terminates in a perforated disk, after which it is left undisturbed for several hours at the same temperature as before, until the liquid begins to exhale an odor of spirits of wine. the delicate offices of our tatar beauty, the taster, come in at this point to determine how much freshly drawn and cooled milk is to be added in order rightly to temper the sour taste. after standing over night it is ready for use, and is put up in seltzer or champagne bottles, and kept at a temperature of + degrees to + degrees reaumur. at a lower temperature vinegar fermentation sets in and spoils the kumys, while too high a temperature brings about equally disastrous results of another sort. kumys has a different chemical composition according to whether it has stood only a few hours or several days, and consequently its action differs, also. the weak kumys is ready for use at the expiration of six hours after fermentation has been excited in the mare's milk, and must be put into the strongest bottles. the medium quality is obtained after from twelve to fourteen hours of fermentation, and, if well corked, will keep two or three days in a cool atmosphere. the third and strongest quality is the product of diligent daily churning during twenty-four to thirty-six hours, and is thinner than the medium quality, even watery. when bottled, it soon separates into three layers, with the fatty particles on top, the whey in the middle, and the casein at the bottom. strong kumys can be kept for a very long time, but it must be shaken before it is used. it is very easy for a person unaccustomed to kumys to become intoxicated on this strong quality of milk wine. the nourishing effects of this spirituous beverage are argued, primarily, from the example of the bashkirs and the kirghiz, who are gaunt and worn by the hunger and cold of winter, but who blossom into rounded outlines and freshness of complexion three or four days after the spring pasturage for their mares begins. some persons argue that life with these bashkirs and an exclusive diet of kumys will effect a speedy cure of their ailments. hence they join one of the nomad hordes. this course, however, not only deprives them of medical advice and the comforts to which they have been accustomed, but often gives them kumys which is difficult to take because of its rank taste and smell, due to the lack of that scrupulous cleanliness which its proper preparation demands. there are establishments near st. petersburg and moscow where kumys may be obtained by those who do not care to make the long journey to the steppe; but the quality and chemical constituents are very different from those of the steppe kumys, especially at the best period, may and june, when the plumegrass and wild strawberry are at their finest development for food, and before the excessive heats of midsummer have begun. as i have said, when people wish to make the cure on their own estates, the indispensable tatar is sent for, and the requisite number of middle-aged mares, of which no work is required, are set aside for the purpose. but from all i have heard, i am inclined to think that benefit is rarely derived from these private cures, and this for several reasons. not only is the kumys said to be inferior when prepared in such small quantities, but no specialist or any other doctor can be constantly on hand to regulate the functional disorders which this diet frequently occasions. moreover, the air of the steppe plays an important part in the cure. when a person drinks from five to fifteen or more bottles a day, and sometimes adds the proper amount of fatty, starchy, and saccharine elements, some other means than the stomach are indispensable for disposing of the refuse. as a matter of fact, in the hot, dry, even temperature of the steppe, where patients are encouraged to remain out-of-doors all day and drink slowly, they perspire kumys. when the system becomes thoroughly saturated with this food-drink, catarrh often makes its appearance, but disappears at the close of the cure. colic, constipation, diarrhoea, nose-bleed, and bleeding from the lungs are also present at times, as well as sleeplessness, toothache, and other disorders. the effects of kumys are considered of especial value in cases of weak lungs, anaemia, general debility caused by any wasting illness, ailments of the digestive organs, and scurvy, for which it is taken by many naval officers. in short, although it is not a cure for all earthly ills, it is of value in many which proceed from imperfect nutrition producing exhaustion of the patient. there are some conditions of the lungs in which it cannot be used, as well as in organic diseases of the brain and heart, epilepsy, certain disorders of the liver, and when gallstones are present. it is drunk at the temperature of the air which surrounds the patient, but must be warmed with hot water, not in the sun, and sipped slowly, with pauses, not drunk down in haste; and generally exercise must be taken. turn where we would in those kumys establishments, we encountered a patient engaged in assiduous promenading, with a bottle of kumys suspended from his arm and a glassful in his hand. coffee, chocolate, and wine are some of the luxuries which must be renounced during a kumys cure, and though black tea (occasionally with lemon) is allowed, no milk or cream can be permitted to contend with the action of the mare's milk unless by express permission of the physician. "cream kumys," which is advertised as a delicacy in america, is a contradiction in terms, it will be seen, as it is made of cow's milk, and cream would be contrary to the nature of kumys, even if the mare's milk produced anything which could rightly pass as such. fish and fruits are also forbidden, with the exception of _klubniki_, which accord well with kumys. _klubnika_ is a berry similar to the strawberry in appearance, but with an entirely different taste. patients who violate these dietary rules are said to suffer for it,--in which case there must have been a good deal of agony inside the tall fence of our establishment, judging by the thriving trade in fruits driven by the old women, who did not confine themselves to the outside of the gate, as the rules required, but slipped past the porter and guardians to the house itself. we found the kumys a very agreeable beverage, and could readily perceive that the patients might come to have a very strong taste for it. we even sympathized with the thorough-going patient of whom we were told that he set oft regularly every morning to lose himself for the day on the steppe, armed with an umbrella against possible cooling breezes, and with a basket containing sixteen bottles of kumys, his allowance of food and medicine until sundown. the programme consisted of a walk in the sun, a drink, a walk, a drink, with umbrella interludes, until darkness drove him home to bed and to his base of supplies. we did not remain long enough, or drink enough kumys, to observe any particular effects on our own persons. as i have said, we ate in town, chiefly, after that breakfast of kumys-mare beefsteak and potatoes of the size and consistency of bullets. during our food and shopping excursions we found that samara was a decidedly wide-awake and driving town, though it seemed to possess no specialties in buildings, curiosities, or manufactures, and the statue to alexander ii., which now adorns one of its squares, was then swathed in canvas awaiting its unveiling. it is merely a sort of grand junction, through which other cities and provinces sift their products. in kumys alone does samara possess a characteristic unique throughout russia. consequently, it is for kumys that multitudes of russians flock thither every spring. the soil of the steppe, on which grows the nutritious plume-grass requisite for the food of the kumys mares, is very fertile, and immense crops of rye, wheat, buckwheat, oats, and so forth are raised whenever the rainfall is not too meagre. unfortunately, the rainfall is frequently insufficient, and the province of samara often comes to the attention of russia, or even of the world, as during the dearth in , because of scarcity of food, or even famine, which is no novelty in the government. in a district where the average of rain is twenty inches, there is not much margin of superfluity which can be spared without peril. wheat grows here better than in the government just north of it, and many peasants are attracted from the "black-bread governments" to samara by the white bread which is there given them as rations when they hire out for the harvest. but such a singular combination of conditions prevails there, as elsewhere in russia, that an abundant harvest is often more disastrous than a scanty harvest. the price of grain falls so low that the cost of gathering it is greater than the market value, and it is often left to fall unreaped in the fields. when the price falls very low, complaints arise that there is no place to send it, since, when the ruble stands high, as it invariably does at the prospect of large crops, the demand from abroad is stopped. the result is that those people who are situated near a market sell as much grain and leave as little at home as possible in order to meet their bills. the price rises; the unreaped surplus of the districts lying far from markets cannot fill the ensuing demand. the income from estates falls, and the discouraged owners who have nothing to live on resolve to plant a smaller area thereafter. estates are mortgaged and sold by auction; prices are very low, and often there are no buyers. the immediate result of an over-abundant harvest in far-off samara is that the peasants who have come hither to earn a little money at reaping return home penniless, or worse, to their suffering families. some of them are legitimate seekers after work; that is to say, they have no grain of their own to attend to, or they reap their own a little earlier or a little later, and go away to earn the ready money to meet taxes and indispensable expenditures of the household, such as oil, and so on. "_pri khlyeby bez khlyeby_" is their own way of expressing the situation, which we may translate freely as "starvation in the midst of plenty." thus the extremes of famine-harvest and the harvest which is an embarrassment of riches are equally disastrous to the poor peasant. samara offers a curious illustration of several agricultural problems, and a proof of some peculiar paradoxes. the peasants of the neighboring governments, which are not populated to a particularly dense degree,-- twenty male inhabitants to a square verst (two thirds of a mile), and not all engaged in agriculture,--have long been accustomed to look upon samara as a sort of promised land. they still regard it in that light, and endeavor to emigrate thither, for the sake of obtaining grants of state land, and certain immunities and privileges which are accorded to colonists. this action is the result of the paradox that overproduction exists hand in hand with too small a parcel of land for each peasant! volumes have been written, and more volumes might still be written, on this subject. but i must content myself here with saying that i believe there is no province which illustrates so thoroughly all the distressing features of these manifold and complicated problems of colonization, of permanent settlements, with the old evils of both landlords and peasants cropping up afresh, abundant and scanty harvests equally associated with famine, and all the troubles which follow in their train, as samara. hence it is that i can never recall the kumys, which is so intimately connected with the name of samara, without also recalling the famine, which is, alas, almost as intimately bound up with it. xii. moscow memories. st. petersburg is handsome, grand, impressive. moscow is beautiful, poetic, sympathetic, and pervaded by an atmosphere of ancient russia, which is indescribable, though it penetrates to the marrow of one's bones if he tarry long within her walls. emperor peter's new capital will not bear comparison, for originality, individuality, and picturesqueness with tzar peter's heart of holy russia, to which the heart of one who loves her must, perforce, often return with longing in after days,--"white-stoned golden-domed, holy mother moscow." but a volume of guide-book details, highly colored impressionist sketches, and dainty miniature painting combined would not do justice to moscow. therefore, i shall confine myself to a few random reminiscences which may serve to illustrate habits or traits in the character of the city or the people. "'eography," says mrs. booby, in one of the famous old russian comedies which we were so fortunate as to witness on the moscow stage: "ah! good heavens! and what are cabmen for, then? that's their business. it's not a genteel branch of learning. a gentleman merely says: 'take me to such or such a place,' and the cabman drives him wherever he pleases." nowadays, it is advisable to be vulgar and know the geography of moscow, if one is really enjoying it independently. it is a trifle less complicated than the geography of the balkan principalities, and, unlike that of the balkan principalities, it has its humorous side, which affords alleviation. the moscow cabby has now, as in the time of mrs. booby, the reputation of being a very hard customer to deal with. he is not often so ingenuous, even in appearance, as the man who drove close to the sidewalk and entreated our custom by warbling, sweetly: "we must have work or we can't have bread." he is only to be dreaded, however, if one be genteelly ignorant, after mrs. booby's plan. i cannot say that i ever had any difficulty in finding any place i wanted, either with the aid (or hindrance) of an _izvostchik_, or on foot, in moscow or other russian towns. but for this and other similar reasons i acquired a nickname among the natives,--_molodyetz_, that is to say, a dashing, enterprising young fellow, the feminine form of the word being nonexistent. a russian view of the matter is amusing, however. "i never saw such a town in which to hunt up any one," said a st. petersburg man in moscow to me. "they give you an address: 'such and such a street, such a house.' for instance, 'green street, house of mr. black.' you go. first you get hold of the street in general, and discover that the special name applies only to one block or so, two or three versts away from the part where you chance to have landed. moscow is even more a city of magnificent distances, you know, than st. petersburg. next you discover that there is no 'house of mr. black.' mr. black died, respected and beloved, god be with him! a hundred years ago or less, and the house has changed owners three times since. so far, it is tolerably plain sailing. then it appears that the house you are in search of is not in the street at all, but tucked in behind it, on a parallel lane, round several corners and elbows." (i will explain, in parenthesis, that the old system of designating a house by the name of the owner, which prevailed before the introduction of numbers, still survives extensively, even in petersburg.) "the next time you set out on a search expedition," continued my informant, after a cup of tea and a cigarette to subdue his emotions, "you insist on having the number of the house. do you get it? oh yes! and with a safeguard added, 'inquire of the laundress.' [this was a parody on, "inquire of the swiss," or "of the yard-porter."] you start off in high feather; number and guide are provided, only a fool could fail to find it, and you know that you are a person who is considered rather above the average in cleverness. but that is in petersburg, and i may as well tell you at once that clever petersburgers are fools compared to the moscow men, in a good many points, such as driving a hard bargain. well, suppose that the house you want is no. . you find no. or no. , and begin to crow over your cleverness. but the next house on one side is no. , and the house on the other side is no. ; the one opposite is no. , or no. , or something idiotic like that, and all because the city authorities permit people to retain the old district number of the house, to affix the new street number, or to post up both at their own sweet will! as you cannot find the laundress to question, under the circumstances, you interview every swiss [hall-porter], yard-porter, policeman, and peasant for a verst round about; and all the satisfaction you get is, 'in whose house? that is mr. green's and this is mr. bareboaster's, and yonder are count thingumbob's and prince whatyoumaycall's.' so you retreat once more, baffled." fortifying himself with more tea and cigarettes, the victim of moscow went on:-- "but there is still another plan. [a groan.] the favorite way to give an address is, 'in the parish of saint so-and-so.' it does n't pin you down to any special house, street, or number, which is, of course, a decided advantage when you are hunting for a needle in a haystack. and the moscow saints and parishes have such names!" here the narrator's feelings overcame him, and when i asked for some of the parochial titles he was too limp to reply. i had already noticed the peculiar designations of many churches, and had begun to suspect myself of stupidity or my cabman and other informants of malicious jesting. now, however, i investigated the subject, and made a collection of specimens. these extraordinary names are all derived--with one or two exceptions for which i can find no explanation--from the peculiarities of the soil in the parish, the former use to which the site of the church was put, or the avocations of the inhabitants of its neighborhood in the olden times, when most of the space outside of the kremlin and china town was devoted to the purveyors and servants of the tzars of muscovy. st. nicholas, a very popular saint, heads the list, as usual. "st. nicholas on chips" occupies the spot where a woodyard stood. "st. nicholas on the well," "st. nicholas fine chime," are easily understood. "st. nicholas white-collar" is in the ancient district of the court laundresses. "st. nicholas in the bell-ringers" is comprehensible; but "st. nicholas the blockhead" is so called because in this quarter dwelt the imperial hatmakers, who prepared "blockheads" for shaping their wares. "st. nicholas louse's misery" is, probably, a corruption of two somewhat similar words meaning muddy hill. "st. nicholas on chickens' legs" belonged to the poulterers, and was so named because it was raised from the ground on supports resembling stilts. "st. nicholas of the interpreters" is in the quarter where the court interpreters lived, and where the tatar mosque now stands. then we have: "the life-giving trinity in the mud," "st. john the warrior" and "st. john the theologian in the armory," "the birth of christ on broadswords," "st. george the martyr in the old jails," "the nine holy martyrs on cabbage-stalks," on the site of a former market garden, and the inexplicable "church of the resurrection on the marmot," besides many others, some of which, i was told, bear quite unrepeatable names, probably perverted, like the last and like "st. nicholas louse's misery," from words having originally some slight resemblance in sound, but which are now unrecognizable. great stress is laid, in hasty books of travel, on the contrasts presented by the moscow streets, the "palace of a prince standing by the side of the squalid log hut of a peasant," and so forth. that may, perhaps, have been true of the moscow of twenty or thirty years ago. in very few quarters is there even a semblance of truth in that description at the present day. the clusters of irish hovels in upper new york among the towering new buildings are much more picturesque and noticeable. the most characteristic part of the town, as to domestic architecture, the part to which the old statements are most applicable, lies between the two lines of boulevards, which are, in themselves, good places to study some russian tastes. for example, a line of open horse-cars is run all winter on the outer boulevard, and appreciated. another line has the centre of its cars inclosed, and uninclosed seats at the ends. the latter are the most popular, at the same price, and as for heating a street-car, the idea could never be got into a russian brain. a certain section of the inner boulevard, which forms a sort of slightly elevated garden, is not only a favorite resort in summer, but is thronged every winter afternoon with people promenading or sitting under the snow-powdered trees in an arctic fairyland, while the mercury in the thermometer is at a very low ebb indeed. it is fashionable in russia to grumble at the cold, but unfashionable to convert the grumbling into action. on the contrary, they really enjoy sitting for five hours at a stretch, in a temperature of degrees below zero, to watch the fascinating horse races on the ice. in the districts between the boulevards, one can get an idea of the town as it used to be. in this "earth town" typical streets are still to be found, but the chances are greatly against a traveler finding them. they are alleys in width and irregularity, paved with cobblestones which seem to have been selected for their angles, and with intermittent sidewalks consisting of narrow, carelessly joined flagstones. the front steps of the more pretentious houses must be skirted or mounted, the street must be crossed when the family carriage stands at the door, like the most characteristic streets in nantucket. some of the doorplates--which are large squares of tin fastened over the _porte cochere_, or on the gate of the courtyard--bear titles. next door, perhaps, stands a log house, flush with the sidewalk, its moss calking plainly visible between the huge ribs, its steeply sloping roof rising, almost within reach, above a single story; and its serpent-mouthed eave-spouts ingeniously arranged to pour a stream of water over the vulgar pedestrian. the windows, on a level with the eyes of the passer-by, are draped with cheap lace curtains. the broad expanse of cotton wadding between the double windows is decorated, in middle-class taste, with tufts of dyed grasses, colored paper, and other execrable ornaments. here, as everywhere else in moscow, one can never get out of eye-shot of several churches; white with brilliant external frescoes, or the favorite mixture of crushed strawberry and white, all with green roofs and surmounted with domes of ever-varying and original forms and colors, crowned with golden crosses of elaborate and beautiful designs. ask a resident, whether prince or peasant, "how many churches are there in 'holy moscow town'?" the answer invariably is, "who knows? a forty of forties," which is the old equivalent, in the epic songs, of incalculable numbers. after a while one really begins to feel that sixteen hundred is not an exaggerated estimate. very few of the streets in any part of the town are broad; all of them seem like lanes to a petersburger, and "they are forever going up and down," as a petersburg cabman described the moscow hills to me, in serious disapproval. he had found the ground too excitingly uneven and the inhabitants too evenly dull to live with for more than a fortnight, he confessed to me. many of the old mansions in the centre of the town have been converted into shops, offices, and lodgings; and huge, modern business buildings have taken the places formerly occupied, i presume, by the picturesque "hovels" of the travelers' tales. one of the most interesting places in the white town to me was the huge foundling asylum, established by katherine ii., immediately after her accession to the throne. there are other institutions connected with it, such as a school for orphan girls. but the hospital for the babies is the centre of interest. there are about six hundred nurses always on hand. very few of them have more than one nursling to care for, and a number of babies who enter life below par, so to speak, are accommodated with incubators. the nurses stand in battalions in the various large halls, all clad alike, with the exception of the woolen _kokoshnik_,-- the coronet-shaped headdress with its cap for the hair,--which is of a different color in each room. it requires cords of "cartwheels"--the big round loaves of black bread--to feed this army of nurses. if they are not fed on their ordinary peasant food, cabbage soup and sour black bread, they fall ill and the babies suffer, as no bottles are used. the fact that the babies are washed every day was impressed on my mind by the behavior of the little creatures while undergoing the operation. they protested a little in gentle squeaks when the water touched them, but quieted down instantly when they were wiped. it is my belief that russian children never cry except during their bath. i heard no infantile wailing except in this asylum, and very little there. many russian mothers of all ranks still tie up their babies tightly in swaddling clothes, on the old-fashioned theory that it makes their limbs straight. but these foundlings are not swaddled. after its bath, the baby is laid on a fresh, warm, linen cloth, which is then wrapped around it in a particular manner, so that it is securely fastened without the use of a single pin. two other cloths, similarly wrapped, complete the simple, comfortable toilet. this and another russian habit, that of allowing a baby to kick about in its crib clad only in its birthday suit, i commend to the consideration of american mothers. the last thing in the asylum which is shown to visitors is the manner in which the babies are received, washed, weighed, and numbered. it was early in december when i was there, but the numbers on the ivory disks suspended from the new arrivals' necks were a good many hundred above seventeen thousand. as they begin each year with no. , i think the whole number of foundlings for that particular year must have been between eighteen and nineteen thousand. the children are put out to board, after a short stay at the asylum, in peasant families, which receive a small sum per month for taking care of them. when the boys grow up they count as members of the family in a question of army service, and the sons of the family can escape their turn, i was told, if matters are rightly managed. the girls become uniformed servants in the government institutions for the education of girls of the higher classes, or marry peasants. the most famous of the gates which lead from the white town through the white, machicolated walls into china town* is the iversky, or gate of the iberian virgin. the gate has two entrances, and between these tower-crowned openings stands a chapel of malachite and marble, gilded bronze and painting. the iversky virgin who inhabits the chapel, though "wonder-working," is only a copy of one in the monastery on mount athos. she was brought to russia in , and this particular chapel was built for her by katherine ii. her garment and crown of gold weigh between twenty-seven and twenty-eight pounds, and are studded with splendid jewels. but the virgin whom one sees in the chapel is not even this copy, but a copy of the copy. the original virgin, as we may call the first copy for convenience, is in such great demand for visits to convents and monasteries, to private houses and the shops of wealthy and devout merchants, that she is never at home from early morn till late at night, and the second copy represents her to the thousands of prayerful people of all classes, literally, who stop to place a candle or utter a petition. the original virgin travels about the town, meanwhile, in a blue coach adorned with her special device, like a coat of arms, and drawn by six horses; and the persons whom she honors with a visit offer liberal gifts. the heads of her coachman, postilions, and footman are supposed to be respectfully bared in all weathers, but when it is very cold these men wind woolen shawls, of the nondescript, dirt color, which characterizes the hair of most peasants, adroitly round their heads, allowing the fringe to hang and simulate long locks. the large image of the virgin, in its massive frame, occupies the seat of honor. a priest and a deacon, clad in crimson velvet and gold vestments, their heads unprotected, even in the most severe weather, by anything but their own thick hair, sit respectfully with their backs to the horses. when the virgin drives along, passers-by pause, salute, and cross themselves. evidently, under these circumstances, it is difficult for a foreigner to get a view of the original virgin. we were fortunate, however. our first invitation in moscow was from the abbess of an important convent to be present at one of the services which i have mentioned,--a sort of invocation of the virgin's blessing,--in her cell, and at the conclusion of the service we were asked if we would not like to "salute the virgin" and take a sip of the holy water "for health." of course we did both, as courtesy demanded. some time after that, as we were driving along the principal street of china town, i saw an imposing equipage approaching, and remarked, "here comes the iversky virgin." * ancient moscow, lying in a walled semicircle just outside the walls of the kremlin. all the trading was done on the "red square," where the gostinny dvor now stands, and all oriental merchants were known by the common designation of "chinese." at the present day "chinese" has been replaced by "german," to designate foreigners in general. "excuse me, madam," said my cabman,--i had not addressed him, but as i had spoken involuntarily in russian he thought i had,--"it is not the virgin, it is only the saviour. don't you see that there are only four horses?" "very true; and st. sergius drives with three, and st. pantaleimon with two,--do they not? tell me, which of them all would you ask to visit you, if you wished a blessing?" "st. pantaleimon is a good, all-round saint, who helps well in most cases," he replied thoughtfully. this seemed a good opportunity to get a popular explanation of a point which had puzzled me. "which," i asked, "is the real miraculous iversky virgin?--the one in the chapel, the one who rides in the carriage, or the original on mount athos?" "it is plain that you don't understand in the least," answered my _izvostchik_, turning round in his seat and imperiling our lives by his driving, while he plunged into the subject with profound earnestness. "none of them is the virgin, and all of them are the virgin. all the different virgins are merely different manifestations of the virgin to men. the virgin herself is in heaven, and communicates her power where she wills. it is like the life-giving trinity." assuming that as a foreigner, and consequently a heretic, i did not understand the doctrine of the trinity, he proceeded to expound it, and did it extremely well. i lent half an ear in amazement to him, and half an ear i reserved for the objurgations of the drivers who were so good as to spare our lives in that crowded thoroughfare while my theological lesson was in progress. while i am speaking of this unusual cabman, i may mention some unusual private coachmen in moscow who use their masters' sledges and carriages for public conveyances while their owners are safely engaged in theatre or restaurant. i do not think that trick could be played in petersburg. i found it out by receiving an amazingly reasonable offer from a very well-dressed man with a superb gray horse and a fine sledge. as we dashed along at lightning speed, i asked the man whether he owned that fine turnout or worked on wages. "i own it myself," he said curtly. therefore, when i alighted, i slipped round behind the sledge and scrutinized it thoroughly under the gaslight. the back was decorated with a monogram and a count's coronet in silver! after that i never asked questions, but i always knew what had happened when i picked up very comfortable equipages at very reasonable rates in places which were between gas lanterns and near theatres and so forth. i should not be doing my duty by a very important factor in russian life if i omitted an illustration of the all-pervading influence of "official" rank, and the prestige which acquaintance with officialdom lends even to modest travelers like ourselves. it was, most appropriately, in the kremlin, the heart of russia, that we were favored with the most amusing of the many manifestations of it which came within our experience. we were looking at the objects of interest in the treasury, when i noticed a large, handsomely bound book, flanked by pen and ink, on a side table. i opened the book, but before i could read a word an attendant pounced upon me. "don't touch that," he said peremptorily. "why not? if you do not wish people to look at this collection of ancient documents,--i suppose that is what it is,--you should lock it up, or label it 'hands off!'" "it is n't ancient documents, and you are not to touch it," he said, taking the book out of my hands. "it is strictly reserved for the signatures of _distinguished_ visitors,--crowned heads, royal princes, ambassadors, and the like." "then it does not interest me in the least, and if you would label it to that effect, no one would care to disturb it," i said. very soon afterwards we were joined by one of the powerful officials of the kremlin. he had made an appointment to show us about, but was detained for a few moments, and we had come on alone and were waiting for him. as we went about with him the attendants hovered respectfully in the rear, evidently much impressed with the friendly, unofficial tone of the conversation. when we had made the round with much deliberation, we excused our official friend to his duties, saying that we wished to take another look at several objects. no sooner was he gone than the guardian of the autograph album pounced upon us again, and invited us to add our "illustrious" names to the list. i refused; he entreated and argued. it ended in his fairly dragging us to the table and standing guard over us while we signed the sacred book. i did not condescend to examine the book, though i should have been permitted then; but--i know which three royal princes immediately preceded us. as i am very much attached to the russian church, anything connected with it always interested me deeply. one of the prominent features of moscow is the number of monasteries and convents. the russian idea of monastic life is prayer and contemplation, not activity in good works. the ideal of devout secular life is much the same. to meet the wants in that direction of people who do not care to join the community, many of the convents have small houses within their inclosures, which they let out to applicants, of whom there is always an abundance. the occupants of these houses are under no restrictions whatever, except as to observing the hours of entry and exit fixed by the opening and closing of the convent gates; but, naturally, it is rather expected of them that they will attend more church services than the busy people of "the world." the sight of these little houses always oppressed me with a sense of my inferiority in the matter of devoutness. i could not imagine myself living in one of them, until i came across a group of their occupants engaged in discussing some racy gossip with the nuns on one of the doorsteps. gossip is not my besetting weakness, but i felt relieved. convents are not aristocratic institutions in russia as they are in roman catholic countries, and very few ladies by birth and education enter them. those who do are apt to rise to the post of abbess, influential connections not being superfluous in any calling in russia any more than in other countries. if i were a nun i should prefer activity. i think that contemplation, except in small doses, is calculated to produce stupidity. illustration: i was passing along a street in moscow when my eye fell upon an elderly nun seated at the gate of a convent, with a little table whereon stood a lighted taper. beside the taper, on a threadbare piece of black velvet, decorated with the customary cross in gold braid, lay a few copper coins before a dark and ancient _ikona_. evidently, the public was solicited to contribute in the name of the saint there portrayed, though i could not recollect that the day was devoted to a saint of sufficient importance to warrant the intrusion of that table on the narrow sidewalk. i halted and asked the nun what day it was, and who was the saint depicted in the image. she said she did not know. this seemed incredible, and i persisted in my inquiry. she called a policeman from the middle of the street, where he was regulating traffic as usual, and asked him about the _ikona_ and the day, with the air of a helpless child. church and state set to work guessing with great heartiness and good-will, but so awkwardly that it was the easiest thing in the world for me to refute each successive guess. when we tired of that, i gave the nun a kopek for the entertainment she had unconsciously afforded, and thanked the policeman, after which the policeman and i left the good nun sitting stolidly at the receipt of custom. quite at the opposite pole was my experience one hot summer day in the cathedral of the assumption, where the emperors have been crowned for centuries; or, to speak more accurately, the two poles met and embraced in that church, the heart of the heart of holy russia. the early patriarchs and metropolitans are buried in this cathedral in superb silver-gilt coffins. of these, the tomb and shrine of metropolitan jona seems to be the goal of the most numerous pilgrimages. i stood near it, in the rear corner of the church, one sunday morning, while mass was in progress. an unbroken stream of people, probably all of them pilgrims to the holy city, her saints and shrines, passed me, crossed themselves, knelt in a "ground reverence," kissed the saint's coffin, then the hand of the priest, who stood by to preserve order and bless each person as he or she turned away. to my surprise, i heard many of them inquire the name of the shrine's occupant _after_ they had finished their prayers. after the service and a little chat with this priest, who seemed a very sensible man, we went forward to take another look at the vladimir virgin, the most famous and historical in all russia, in her golden case. a gray-haired old army colonel, who wore the vladimir cross, perceiving from our speech that we were foreigners, politely began to explain to us the noteworthy points about the church and the virgin. it soon appeared, however, that we were far more familiar with them all than he was, and we fell into conversation. "i am stationed in poland," he said, "and i have never been in moscow before. i am come on a pilgrimage to the holy city, but everything is so dear here that i must deny myself the pleasure of visiting many of the shrines in the neighborhood. it is a great happiness to me to be present thus at the mass in my own _pravoslavny_ church, and in moscow." "but there are orthodox churches in poland, surely," i said. "yes," he replied, "there are a few; and i go whenever i get a chance." "what do you do when you have not the chance?" "i go to whatever church there is,--the roman catholic, the lutheran, the synagogue." "is that allowed?" i asked. i knew very well that russians attend roman catholic and protestant churches when abroad, as a matter of course, though i had not before heard of the synagogue in the list, and i wished to hear what the earnest old colonel would say. "why not? why should n't i?" he replied. "we all go to church to worship god and to pray to him. does it matter about the form or the language? a man has as much as he can do to be a christian and an honest man,-- which are two very different things nowadays, apparently,--without troubling himself about those petty details." it is almost superfluous to say that we swore friendship with the colonel on the spot, on those foundations. our acquaintance ended with our long talk there in the cathedral, since we could not well stop in poland to accept the delightful old officer's invitation to visit him and his wife. but the friendship remains, i hope. when he left us, a young fellow about seventeen years of age, who had been standing near us and listening to the last part of our conversation with an air of profound and respectful interest which obviated all trace of impertinence, stepped up and said:-- "may i have the pleasure of showing you about the cathedral? you seem to appreciate our russian ways and thoughts. i have taken a good deal of interest in studying the history and antiquities of my native city, and i may be able to point out a few things to you here." he was a pleasant-faced young fellow, with modest, engaging manners; a student in one of the government institutions, it appeared. he looked very cool and comfortable in a suit of coarse gray linen. he proved to be an admirable cicerone, and we let him escort us about for the pleasure of listening, though we had seen everything many times already. i commented on his knowledge, and on the evident pride which he took in his country, and especially in his church, remarking that he seemed to be very well informed on many points concerning the latter, and able to explain the reasons for things in an unusual way. "yes," he answered, "i am proud and fond of my country and my church. we russians do not study them as we should, i am ashamed to say. there, for instance, is my cousin, princess----, who is considered a very well-informed young woman on all necessary points. she was to make her communion, and so some one brought her to the church while the hours were being read, as is proper, though she usually comes very much later. she had not been there ten minutes before she began to ask: 'when does the sacrament come? is n't it pretty soon?' and she kept that up at short intervals, despite all i could do to stop her. i am quite sure," he added, "that i need not explain to you, though you are a foreigner, where the hours and the sacrament come in the service?" "no: the hours precede the liturgy, and the administration of the sacrament comes very nearly at the end of all." "exactly. you understand what a disgrace such ignorance was on my cousin's part." he was charming, amusingly frank on many points which i had supposed to be rather delicate with members of the "orthodox" (as i must call it for the lack of a possible english equivalent for _pravoslavny_) russian church, but so well-bred and intelligent, withal, that we were sincerely sorry to say good-by to him at the door of our hotel. xiii. the nizhni novgorod fair and the volga. the most picturesque and appropriate way of reaching nizhni novgorod is by the volga, with which its life is so intimately connected, and the most characteristic time to see the volga steamers is on the way upstream during the fair. what an assortment of people we had on board! to begin with, our boat was commanded by a vice-admiral in full uniform. his family was with him, spending the summer on board sailing up and down the river between nizhni novgorod and astrakhan. the passengers over whom the vice-admiral ruled were delightfully varied. there were russians from every quarter of the empire, and of as many races, including armenians. one of the latter, an old man with a physiognomy not to be distinguished, even by our russian friends who were traveling with us, from that of a jew, seemed to take no interest in anything except in telling over a short rosary of amber beads, and standing guard at all stopping-places over his cabin, which he was determined to occupy alone, though he had paid but one fare. after he had done this successfully at several landing-places and had consigned several men to the second cabin, an energetic man appealed to the admiral. it required some vigorous language and a threat to break open the door if the key were not forthcoming, before the admiral could overcome the resistance of the obstinate old armenian, who protested, in very bad russian, that he was very ill indeed, and should certainly die if any one entered his cabin. he was still alive when we reached the end of our voyage, and had cleverly made his cabin-mate pay for all his food. among the second-class passengers was a party of students returning to the university of kazan. they exhibited all degrees of shabbiness, but this was only the modest plumage of the nightingale, apparently. for hours they sang songs, all beautiful, all strange to us, and we listened entranced until tea, cigarettes, and songs came to an end in time to permit them a few hours of sleep before we reached their landing. the third-class passengers, who were also lodged on the upper deck, aft, included tatars and other mohammedans from the orient, who spread their prayer-rugs at sundown and went through their complicated devotions with an air of being quite oblivious to spectators. several got permission from the admiral to ascend to the hurricane deck. but this, while unnecessary as a precaution against crowding or interference from their numerous russian fellow-passengers, rendered them more conspicuous; and even this was not sufficient to make the instinctively courteous russians stare at or notice them. the fourth-class passengers were on the lower deck. among them was a company of soldiers in very shabby uniforms, who had been far down the river earning a little money by working in the harvest fields, where hands are always too few, and who were returning to garrison at kazan. some enterprising passengers from astrakhan had laid in a large stock of the delicious round watermelons and luscious cantaloupe melons. by the time we reached kazan, there were not many melons left in that improvised shop on the lower deck, russians are as fond of watermelons as are the american negroes. at samara we had seen enormous bales of camel's-hair, weighing upwards of eight hundred pounds, in picturesque mats of red, yellow, and brown, taken on board for the fair. the porters seemed to find it easy to carry them on their backs, aided only by a sort of small chair-back, with a narrow, seat-like projection at the lower end, which was fastened by straps passing over the shoulders and under the arms. when we left kazan, i noticed that a huge open barge was being towed upstream alongside us, that it was being filled with these bales, to lighten the steamer for the sand-bars and shallows of the upper river, and that a monotonous but very musical cadence was being repeated at intervals, in muffled tones, somewhere on board. i went down to the cargo department of the lower deck and found the singers,--the herculean porters. one after another they bent their backs, and two mates hoisted the huge bales, chanting a refrain which enabled them to move and lift in unison. the words were to the following effect: "if all don't grasp together, we cannot lift the weight." the music was sad, but irresistibly sweet and fascinating, and i stood listening and watching until the great barge was filled and dropped behind, for the company's tug to pick up and tow to nizhni with a string of other barges. it is probably a vulgar detail, but i must chronicle the fact that the cooking on these volga steamers--on the line we patronized, at least --is among the very best to be found in russia, in my experience. on the voyage upstream, when they are well supplied with sterlet and other fish, all alive, from astrakhan, the dinners are treats for which one may sigh in vain in the capitals of st. petersburg and moscow, with their mongrel german-french-russian cookery. the dishes are very russian, but they are very good. i remember one particularly delicious concoction was composed of fresh sterlet and sour cabbage, with white grapes on top, baked to a brown crispness. we arrived at our wharf on the volga front of the old town of nizhni novgorod about five o'clock in the afternoon. above us rose the steep green hills on whose crest stood the kremlin, containing several ancient churches, the governor's house, and so forth. on a lower terrace, to right and left, stood monasteries and churches intermingled with shops and mediocre dwellings. the only noteworthy church was that in front of us, with its picturesque but un-russian rococo plaster decoration on red brick, crowned by genuine russian domes and crosses of elaborately beautiful patterns. but we did not pause long to admire this part of the view, which was already familiar to us. what a change had come over the scene since we had bidden it farewell on our way downstream! then everything was dead, or slumbering, except the old town, the city proper; and that had not seemed to be any too much awake or alive. the fair town, situated on the sand-spit between the volga and the mouth of the oka, stood locked up and deserted, as it had stood since the close of last year's fair. now, as we gazed over the prow of the steamer, we could see the bridge across the oka black with the swarming masses of pedestrians and equipages. the steamer company allows its patrons to sleep (but not to eat) on board the night after arrival and the night before starting, and we availed ourselves of the privilege, having heard that it was often no easy matter to secure accommodations in the fair, and having no intention of returning to our former hotel, miles from all the fun, in the upper town, if we could help it. the only vacant rooms in the fair seemed to be at the "best hotel," to which we had been recommended, with a smile of amusement which had puzzled us, by a moscow friend, an officer in the army. prices were very high at this hotel, which, like american summer hotels, is forced to make its hay for the year during the season of six weeks, after which it is locked up. our room was small; the floor, of rough boards, was bare; the beds were not comfortable. for the same price, in petersburg or moscow, we should have had a spacious room on the _bel etage_, handsomely furnished, with rugs on an inlaid floor. across one corner of the dining-room was built a low platform, on which stood a piano. we soon discovered its use. coming in about nine o'clock in the evening, we ordered our _samovar_ for tea in the dining-room,-- a most unusual place. the proper place was our own room. but we had found a peculiar code of etiquette prevailing here, governed by excessive modesty and propriety, no doubt, but an obstructionist etiquette, nevertheless. the hall-waiter, whose business it is to serve the _samovar_ and coffee, was not allowed to enter our room, though his fellows had served us throughout the country, after the fashion of the land. here we were compelled to wait upon the leisure of the chambermaid, a busy and capricious person, who would certainly not be on hand in the evening if she was not in the morning. accordingly, we ordered our tea in the dining-room, as i have said. presently, a chorus of girls, dressed all alike, mounted the platform, and sang three songs to an accompaniment banged upon the piano by a man. being violently applauded by a long table-full of young merchants who sat near, at whom they had been singing and staring, without any attempt at disguise, and with whom they had even been exchanging remarks, they sang two songs more. they were followed by another set of girls, also in a sort of uniform costume, who sang five songs at the young merchants. it appeared that one party was called "russian singers," and the other "german singers." we found out afterwards, by watching operations on another evening, that these five songs formed the extent of their respective repertories. a woman about forty-five years of age accompanied them into the room, then planted herself with her back against the wall near us, which was as far away from her charges as space permitted. she was the "sheep-dog," and we soon saw that, while discreetly oblivious of the smiles, glances, and behavior of her lambs,--as all well-trained society sheep-dogs are,--she kept darting sharp looks at us as though we were doing something quite out of the way and improper. by that time we had begun to suspect, for various reasons, that the nizhni fair is intended for men, not for--ladies. but we were determined quietly to convince ourselves of the state of affairs, so we stood our ground, dallied with our tea, drank an enormous quantity of it, and kept our eyes diligently in the direction where those of the sheep-dog should have been, but never were. their very bad singing over, the lambs disappeared to the adjoining veranda. the young merchants slipped out, one by one. the waiters began to carry great dishes of peaches, and other dainty fruits,--all worth their weight in gold in russia, and especially at nizhni,--together with bottles of champagne, out to the veranda. when we were satisfied, we went to bed, but not to sleep. the peaches kept that party on the veranda and in the rooms below exhilarated until nearly daylight. i suppose the duenna did her duty and sat out the revel in the distant security of the dining-room. several of her charges added a number of points to our store of information the next day, at the noon breakfast hour, when the duenna was not present. we began to think that we understood our moscow friend's enigmatic smile, and to regret that we had not met him and his wife at the fair, as we had originally arranged to do. the far-famed fair of nizhni novgorod--"makary," the russians call it, from the town and monastery of st. makary, sixty miles farther down the volga, where it was held from until the present location was adopted in --was a disappointment to us. there is no denying that. until railways and steamers were introduced into these parts, and facilitated the distribution of goods, and of commonplaceness and monotony, it probably merited all the extravagant praises of its picturesqueness and variety which have been lavished upon it. the traveler arrives there with indefinite but vast expectations. a fancy dress ball on an enormous scale, combined with an international exposition, would seem to be the nearest approach possible to a description of his confused anticipations. that is, in a measure, what one sees; and, on the other hand, it is exactly the reverse of what he sees. i must confess that i think our disappointment was partly our own fault. had we, like most travelers who have written extravagantly about the fair, come to it fresh from a stay of (at most) three weeks in st. petersburg and moscow only, we should have been much impressed by the variety of types and goods, i have no doubt. but we had spent nearly two years in the land, and were familiar with the types and goods of the capitals and of other places, so that there was little that was new to us. consequently, though we found the fair very interesting, we were not able to excite ourselves to any extravagant degree of amazement or rapture. the fair proper consists of a mass of two-story "stone" (brick and cement) buildings, inclosed on three sides by a canal in the shape of a horseshoe. through the centre runs a broad boulevard planted with trees, ending at the open point of the horseshoe in the residence occupied by the governor during the fair (he usually lives in the kremlin of the upper town), the post-office, and other public buildings. across the other end of the boulevard and "rows" of the gostinny dvor, with their arcades full of benches occupied by fat merchants or indolent visitors, and serving as a chord to the arc of the horseshoe, run the "chinese rows," which derive their name from the style of their curving iron roofs and their ornaments, not from the nationality of the merchants, or of the goods sold there. it is, probably, a mere accident that the wholesale shops for overland tea are situated in the chinese rows. it is a good place to see the great bales of "kiakhta tea," still in their wrappings of rawhides, with the hair inside and the hieroglyphical addresses, weights, and so forth, cut into the skins, instead of being painted on them, just as they have been brought overland from kiakhta on the chinese border of siberia. here, also, rises the great makary cathedral, which towers conspicuously above the low-roofed town. inside the boundary formed by this belt canal, no smoking is allowed in the streets, under penalty of twenty-five rubles for each offense. the drainage system is flushed from the river every night; and from the ventilation towers, which are placed at short intervals, the blue smoke of purifying fires curls reassuringly. great care is necessary in this department, and the sanitary conditions, though as good as possible, are never very secure. the whole low sandspit is often submerged during the spring floods, and the retreating waters leave a deposit of slime and debris behind them, which must be cleared away, besides doing much damage to the buildings. the peculiarity of this makary fair is that nothing is sold by sample, in modern fashion; the whole stock of goods is on hand, and is delivered at once to purchasers. the taciturn, easy-going merchants in those insignificant-looking shops of the gostinny dvor "rows," and, to a small extent, in the supplementary town which has sprung up outside the canal, set the prices for tea and goods of all sorts all over russia and siberia for the ensuing year. contracts for the future are dated, and last year's bills fall due, at "makary." it is hard to realize. all the firms with whose shops we had been familiar in petersburg and moscow had establishments here, and, at first, it seemed not worth while to inspect their stocks, with which we felt perfectly acquainted. but we soon discovered that our previous familiarity enabled us to distinguish certain articles which are manufactured for the "fair" trade exclusively, and which are never even shown in the capitals. for example, the great porcelain houses of st. petersburg manufacture large pipe-bowls, ewers (with basins to match) of the oriental shape familiar to the world in silver and brass, and other things, all decorated with a deep crimson bordering on magenta, and with gold. the great silk houses of moscow prepare very rich and very costly brocades of this same deep crimson hue, besprinkled with gold and with tiny bouquets of bright flowers, or in which the crimson is prominent. they even copy the large, elaborate patterns from the robes of ancient doges of venice. all these, like the pipes and ewers, are made to suit the taste of customers in bokhara and other eastern countries, where a man's rank is, to a certain degree, to be recognized by the number and richness of the _khalati_ which he can afford to wear at one time. this is one of the points in which the civilization of the east coincides very nearly with the civilization of the west. the _khalat_ is a sort of dressing-gown, with wide sleeves, which is girt about the waist with a handsome shawl; but it would strike a european that eight or ten of these, worn one on top of the other, might conduce to the preservation of vanity, but not to comfort, in the hot countries where the custom prevails. the bokhariots bring to the fair _khalati_ of their own thin, strong silk, in hues more gaudy than those of the rainbow and the peacock combined, which are always lined with pretty green and white chintz, and can be bought for a very reasonable price in the oriental shops, together with jeweled arms and ornaments, rugs, and a great variety of fascinating wares. the choicest "overland" tea--the true name is "kiakhta tea"--can be had only by wholesale, alas! and it is the same with very many things. there are shops full of rolls of _sarpinka_, a fine, changeable gingham in pink and blue, green and yellow, and a score of other combinations, which washes perfectly, and is made by the peasants far down the volga, in the season when agricultural labor is impossible. there are furs of more sorts than the foreign visitor is likely ever to have seen before; iron from the ural mines by the ton, on a detached sand-spit in the oka river; dried and salted fish by the cord, in a distant, too odorous spot; goldsmiths' shops; old-clothes shops, where quaint and beautiful old costumes of russia abound; tatar shops, filled with fine, multi-colored leather work and other tatar goods, presided over by the stately tatars from whom we had bought at kazan; shops piled with every variety of dried fruit, where prime sultana raisins cost forty cents for a box of one hundred and twenty pounds. altogether, it is a varied and instructive medley. we learned several trade tricks. for example, we came upon the agency of a moscow factory, which makes a woolen imitation of an oriental silken fabric, known as _termalama_. the agent acknowledged that it was an imitation, and said that the price by the piece was twenty-five cents a yard. in the moscow oriental shops the dealers sell it for eight times that price, and swear that it is genuine from the east. a russian friend of ours had been cheated in this way, and the dealers attempted to cheat us also,--in vain, after our nizhni investigations. every one seemed to be absorbed in business, to the exclusion of every other thought. but sometimes, as we wandered along the boulevard, and among the rows, we found the ground of the gostinny dvor strewn with fresh sprays of fragrant fir, which we took at first to be a token that a funeral had occurred among some of the merchants' clerks who lived over the shops. however, it appeared that a holy picture had been carried along the rows, and into the shops of those who desired its blessing on their trade, and a short service had been held. the "zeal" of these numerous devout persons must have enriched the church where the _ikona_ dwelt, judging from the number, of times during our five days' stay that we came upon these freshly strewn paths. the part of the fair which is most interesting to foreigners in general, i think, is the great glass gallery filled with retail booths, where russians sell embroidery and laces and the handiwork of the peasants in general; where caucasians deal in the beautiful gold and silver work of their native mountains; where swarthy bokhariots sit cross-legged, with imperturbable dignity, among their gay wares, while the band plays, and the motley crowd bargains and gazes even in the evening when all the other shops are closed. i learned here an extra lesson in the small value attached by russians to titles in themselves. it was at the ekaterinburg booth, where precious and semi-precious stones from the ural and siberia, in great variety and beauty, were for sale. a russian of the higher classes, and, evidently, not poor, inquired the price of a rosary of amethysts, with a cross of assorted gems fit for a bishop. the attendant mentioned the price. it did not seem excessive, but the bargainer exclaimed, in a bantering tone,-- "come now, prince, that's the fancy price. tell me the real price." but the "prince" would not make any reduction, and his customer walked away. i thought i would try the effect of the title on the caucasians and bokhariots. i had already dropped into the habit of addressing tatars as "prince," except in the case of hotel waiters,--and i might as well have included them. i found to my amusement that, instead of resenting it as an impertinence, they reduced the price of the article for which i was bargaining by five kopeks (about two and a half cents) every time i used the title, though no sign of gratification disturbed the serene gravity of their countenances any more than if they had been americans and i had addressed them as "colonel" or "judge," at haphazard. truly, human nature varies little under different skies! but i know now, authoritatively, that the market value of the title of "prince" is exactly two and a half cents. one evening we drove across the bridge to take tea at a garden on the "atkos," or slope,--the crest of the green hill on which stands the kremlin. in this atkos quarter of the town there are some really fine houses of wealthy merchants, mingled with the curious old dwellings of the merely well-to-do and the poor. in the garden the tea was not very good, and the weedy-looking chorus of women, the inevitable adjunct to every eating establishment at the fair, as we had learned, sang wretchedly, and were rewarded accordingly when one of their number came round to take up a collection. but the view! far below, at our feet, swept broad "matushka volga." the wharves were crowded with vessels. steamers and great barges lay anchored in the stream in battalions. though the activity of the day was practically over, tugs and small boats were darting about and lending life to the scene. we were on the "hills" side of the river. far away, in dreamy dimness, lay the flat, blue-green line of the "forests" shore. on our left was the mouth of the oka, and the fair beyond, which seemed to be swarming with ants, lay flat on the water level. the setting sun tinged the scene with pale rose and amber in a mild glow for a while, and then the myriad lights shone out from the city and river with even more charming effect. our next visit to the old town was in search of a writer who had published a couple of volumes of agreeable sketches. it was raining hard, so we engaged an _izvostchik_ who was the fortunate possessor of an antiquated covered carriage, with a queer little drapery of scarlet cotton curtains hanging from the front of the hood, as though to screen the modesty of "the young person" from the manners, customs, and sights of the fair,--about which, to tell the truth, the less that is said in detail the better. certainly, more queer, old-fashioned carriages and cabmen's costumes are to be seen at the fair than anywhere else in the country. as we were about to enter our antique conveyance, my mother's foot caught in the braid on the bottom of her dress, and a long strip gave way. "i must go upstairs and sew this on before we start," said she, reentering the hotel. the _izvostchik_ ran after us. "let me sew it on, your high well-born," he cried. seeing our surprise, he added, "god is my witness,--_yay bogu!_ i am a tailor by trade." his rent and faded coat did not seem to indicate anything of the sort, but i thought i would try him, as i happened to have a needleful of silk and a thimble in my pocket. i gave them to him accordingly. he knelt down and sewed on the braid very neatly and strongly in no time. his simple, friendly manner was irresistibly charming. i cannot imagine accepting such an offer from a new york cabby,--or his offering to do such a job. when we reached the old town, i asked a policeman where to find my author. i thought he might be able to tell me at once, as the town is not densely populated, especially with authors;--and for other reasons. he did not know. "then where is the police office or the address office?" i asked. (there is no such thing as a directory in russian cities, even in st. petersburg. but there is an address office where the names and residences on passports are filed, and where one can obtain the address wanted by paying a small fee, and filling out a form. but he must know the baptismal name and the patronymic as well as the surname, and, if the person wanted be not "noble," his profession or trade in addition!) "there is no address office," he answered, "and the police office is closed. it is after four o'clock. besides, if it were open, you could not find out there. we keep no record here, except of soldiers and strangers." i thought the man was jesting, but after questioning him further, i was forced to conclude that it might be true, thought it certainly was amazing. as the author in question had been sent to siberia once or twice, on the charge of complicity in some revolutionary proceedings, it did seem as though the police ought to be able to give his address, if russia meant to live up to the reputation for strict surveillance of every soul within her borders which foreigners have kindly bestowed upon her. as a house-to-house visitation was impossible, i abandoned the quest, and drove to a photographer's to buy some views of the town. the photographer proved to be a chatty, vivacious man, and full of information. i mentioned my dilemma to him. he said that the policeman had told the exact truth, but that my author, to his positive knowledge, was in the crimea, "looking up material." then he questioned me as to what we had seen at the fair, mentioning one or two places of evening entertainment. i replied that we had not been to those places. i had understood that they were not likely to suit my taste. had i been rightly informed, or ought i to have gone to them in spite of warning? "no," he replied frankly, after a momentary hesitation, "you ought not to see them. but all the american women do go to them. there was a party here last year. o-o-o-oh, how they went on! they were told, as you have been, that they ought not to go to certain places; so of course they went, and took the men in the party with them,--which was just as well. i'd have given something to see their faces at the time, or even afterwards! an englishman, who had traveled everywhere, and had seen everything, told me that nowhere, even in india, had he seen the like of the doings at this fair; and he was greatly shocked." he added that an officer could not appear at these places in uniform. i begged the photographer to remember in future that there were several sorts of american women, and that not all of them worked by the law of contraries. in my own mind i wondered what those particular women had done, and wished, for the hundredth time, that american women abroad would behave themselves properly, and not earn such a reputation for their country-people. on sunday we went to the armenian church, to see the service and to meet some armenian acquaintances. we found the service both like and unlike the russian, in many points approaching more nearly to the greek form. the music was astonishing. an undercurrent of sound, alternating between a few notes, was kept up throughout the service, almost without a break. at times, this undercurrent harmonized with the main current of intoning and chanting, but quite as often the discord was positively distressing. perceiving that we were strangers, the armenians showed their hospitality in an original way. first, when one of the congregation went forward to the chancel railing and received from the priest the triple kiss of peace, which he then proceeded to communicate to another person, who passed it on in dumb show, and so on through the whole assembly, neither men nor women would run the risk of offending us by offering the simulated kiss. secondly, and more peculiar, besides throwing light on their motives in omitting the kiss, they deliberately passed us by when they brought round the plate for the collection! this was decidedly novel! a visit to the armenian church in st. petersburg convinced us that the discordant music was not an accident due to bad training, but deliberate and habitual. i noticed also that the men and women, though they stood on opposite sides of the church, as with the russian old ritualists, with the women on the left,--in the state church, at court, the women stand on the right,--they crossed themselves from left to right, like roman catholics, instead of the other way about, as do the russians. as we were exploring the tatar shops at noon, we heard the muezzin calling to prayer from the minaret of the mosque close by, and we set off to attend the service. if we had only happened to have on our galoshes, we might have complied with etiquette by removing them, i suppose, and could have entered in our shoes. at least, the russian policeman said so, and that is very nearly what the tatars did. they kicked off the stiff leather slippers in which they scuff about, and entered in their tall boots, with the inset of frosted green pebbled horsehide in the heel, and soft soles, like socks. as it was, we did not care to try the experiment of removing our shoes, and so we were obliged to stand in the vestibule, and look on from the threshold. each tatar, as he entered, pulled out the end of his turban, and let it float down his back. where the turban came from for the prayers, i do not know. none of the tatars had worn a turban in the shops from which they had just come in large numbers, abandoning the pressing engagements of the busy noontide. several individuals arrived very late, and decided not to enter. all of these late comers, one after the other, beckoned me mysteriously out of sight of the congregation and the _mollah_, and whispered eagerly:-- "how do you like it?" "_very_ much," i answered emphatically; whereupon they exhibited signs of delight which were surprising in such grave people, and even made a motion to kiss my hand. at least, that is what the motion would have meant from a russian. next to the magnificent ceremonial of the russian church, the opposite extreme, this simplicity of the congregational mussulman worship is the most impressive i have ever seen. the manner of our departure from nizhni novgorod was characteristically russian,--but not by our own choice. we decided to go on up the volga by steamer, see the river and a few of the towns, and return from some point, by rail, to moscow. the boat was advertised to start from the wharf, in the old town, at six o'clock in the evening. we went aboard in good season, and discovered that there were but three first-class staterooms, the best of which (the only good one, as it afterwards appeared) had been captured by some friends of the captain. we installed ourselves in the best we could get, and congratulated each other when the steamer started on time. we had hardly finished the congratulations when it drew up at another wharf and made fast. then it was explained to us that it was to load at this wharf, at the "siberian landing," a point on the volga shore of the fair sand-spit, miles nearer our hotel than the one to which we had driven through torrents of rain. we were to make our real start at ten o'clock that night! the cold was piercing. we wrapped ourselves up in our wadded cloaks and in a big down quilt which we had with us, and tried to sleep, amid the deliberate bang-bang-bang of loading. when the cargo was in we slept. when we woke in the morning we began to exchange remarks, being still in that half comatose condition which follows heavy slumber. "what a delightfully easy boat!" "who would have expected such smoothness of motion from such an inferior-looking old craft?" "it must be very swift to have no motion at all perceptible. whereabouts are we, and how much have we missed?" i rose and raised the blind. the low shore opposite and far away, the sandy islet near at hand, the river,--all looked suspiciously like what our eyes had rested upon when we went to bed the night before. we would not believe it at first, but it was true, that we had not moved a foot, but were still tied up at the siberian landing. thence we returned to the town wharf, no apologies or explanations being forthcoming or to be extracted, whence we made a final start at about nine o'clock, only fifteen hours late! and the company professed to be "american"! progress up the river was slow. the cold rain and wind prevented our availing ourselves of the tiny deck. the little saloon had no outlook, being placed in the middle of the boat. the shores and villages were not of striking interest, after our acquaintance with the lower volga. for hours all the other passengers (chiefly second-class) were abed, apparently. i returned to my cabin to kill time with reading, and presently found the divan and even the floor and partition walls becoming intolerably hot, and exhaling a disagreeable smell of charred wood. i set out on a tour of investigation. in the next compartment to us, which had the outward appearance of a stateroom, but was inclosed on the outside only by a lattice-work, was the smoke-pipe. the whistle was just over our heads, and the pipe almost touched the partition wall of our cabin. that partly explained the deadly chill of the night before, and the present suffocating heat. i descended to the lower deck. there stood the engine, almost as rudimentary as a parlor stove, in full sight and directly under our cabin; also close to the woodwork. it burned wood, and at every station the men brought a supply on board; the sticks, laid across two poles in primitive but adequate fashion, being deposited by the simple process of widening the space between the poles, and letting the wood fall on the deck with a noise like thunder. the halts and "wooding up" seemed especially frequent at night, and there was not much opportunity for sleep between them. our fear of being burned alive also deprived us of the desire to sleep. we were nearly roasted, as it was, and had to go out on the deck in the wind and rain at short intervals, to cool off. there was nothing especially worthy of note at any of the landings, beyond the peculiar windmills, except at gorodetz, which is renowned for the manufacture of spice-cakes, so the guide-book said. i watched anxiously for gorodetz, went ashore, and bought the biggest "spice-cake" i could find from an old woman on the wharf. all the other passengers landed for the same purpose, and the old woman did a rushing business. after taking a couple of mouthfuls, i decided that i was unable to appreciate the merits of my cake, as i had been, after repeated efforts, to appreciate those of a somewhat similar concoction known under the name of "vyazemsky." so i gave the cake to the grateful stewardess, and went out on deck to look at a ray of sunlight. "where's your cake?" asked a stern voice at my elbow. the speaker was a man with long hair and beard, dressed like a peasant, in a conical fur cap and a sheepskin coat, though his voice, manner, and general appearance showed that he belonged to the higher classes. perhaps he was an "adept" of count tolstoy, and was merely masquerading in that costume, which was very comfortable, though it was only september. "i gave it to the stewardess," i answered meekly, being taken by surprise. "what! didn't you eat it? don't you know, madam, that these spice-cakes are renowned for their qualities all over russia, and are even carried to the remotest parts of siberia and of china, also, i believe, in great quantities? [he had got ahead of the guide-book in that last particular!] _why_ didn't you eat it?" "it did not taste good; and besides, i was afraid of indigestion. it seemed never to have been cooked, unless by exposure to the sun, and it was soggy and heavy as lead. you know there has been a great deal of rain lately, and what sun we have even now is very pale and weak, hardly adapted to baking purposes." this seemed to enrage my hairy mentor, and he poured out a volume of indignant criticism, reproach, and ejaculations, all tangled up with fragments of cookery receipts, though evidently not the receipt for the gorodetz cakes, which is a secret. the other passengers listened in amazement and delight. when he paused for breath, i remarked:-- "well, i don't see any harm in having bestowed such a delicate luxury on the poor stewardess. did any of you think to buy a cake for her? and why not? i denied myself to give her pleasure. look at it in that light for a while, sir, if my bad taste offends you. and, in the mean while, tell me what has inspired you with the taste to dress like a peasant?" that settled him, and he retreated. that evening he and the friend with whom he seemed to be traveling talked most entertainingly in the little saloon, after supper. the friend, a round, rosy, jolly man, dressed in ordinary european clothes, was evidently proud of his flow of language, and liked to hear himself talk. actors, actresses, and theatres in russia, from the middle of the last century down to the present day, were his favorite topic, on which he declaimed with appropriate gestures and very noticeable management of several dimples in his cheeks. as a matter of course, he considered the present day degenerate, and lauded the old times and dead actors and actresses only. it seemed that the longer they had been dead, the higher were their merits. he talked very well, also, about books and social conditions. the progress of the weak-kneed steamer against wind and current was very slow and uncertain, and we never knew when we should reach any given point. even the mouths of the rivers were not so exciting or important in nature as they used to look to me when i studied geography. i imparted to the captain my opinion that his engine was no better than a _samovar_. he tried hard to be angry, but a glance at that ridiculous machine convinced him of the justice of my comparison, and he broke into a laugh. we left the steamer at yaroslavl (it was bound for rybinsk), two hundred and forty-one miles above nizhni-novgorod, and got our first view of the town at daybreak. it stands on the high west bank of the river, but is not so picturesque as nizhni. access to the town is had only through half a dozen cuts and ravines, as at nizhni; and what a singular town it is! with only a little over thirty thousand inhabitants, it has seventy-seven churches, besides monasteries and other ecclesiastical buildings. there are streets which seem to be made up chiefly of churches,--churches of all sizes and colors, crowned with beautiful and fantastic domes, which, in turn, are surmounted by crosses of the most charming and original designs. yaroslavl, founded in , claims the honor of having had the first russian theatre, and to have sheltered biron, the favorite of the empress anna ioannovna (a doubtful honor this), with his family, during nineteen years of exile. but its architectural hints and revelations of ancient fashions, forms, and customs, are its chief glory, not to be obscured even by its modern renown for linen woven by hand and by machinery. for a person who really understands russian architecture,-- not the architecture of st. petersburg, which is chiefly the invention of foreigners,--yaroslavl and other places on the northern volga in this neighborhood, widely construed, are mines of information and delight. however, as there are no books wherewith a foreigner can inform himself on this subject, any attempt at details would not only seem pedantic, but would be incomprehensible without tiresome explanations and many illustrations, which are not possible here. i may remark, however, that viollet-le-duc and fergusson do not understand the subject of russian architecture, and that their few observations on the matter are nearly all as erroneous as they well can be. i believe that very few russians even know much scientifically about the development of their national architecture from the byzantine style. yaroslavl is a good place to study it, and has given its name to one epoch of that development. with the exception of the churches, yaroslavl has not much to show to the visitor; but the bazaar was a delight to us, with its queer pottery, its baskets for moulding bread, its bread-trays for washtubs, and a dozen other things in demand by the peasants as to which we had to ask explanations. breezy, picturesque yaroslavl, with its dainty, independent cabbies, who object to the mud which must have been their portion all their lives, and reject rare customers rather than drive through it; with its churches never to be forgotten; its view of the volga, and its typical russian features! it was a fitting end to our volga trip, and fully repaid us for our hot-cold voyage with the _samovar_ steamer against the stream, though i had not believed, during the voyage, that anything could make up for the tedium. if i were to visit it again, i would approach it from the railway side and leave it to descend the river. but i would not advise any foreigner to tackle it at all, unless he be as well prepared as we were to appreciate its remarkable merits in certain directions. a night's journey landed us in moscow. but even the glories of moscow cannot make us forget the city of yaroslaff the great and nizhni novgorod. thirty days in lithuania in rev. peter p. saurusaitis being an account of personal experiences and observations encountered in a trip extending from august , , to february , printed by call printing company east st. louis, illinois exodium for all americans i hope the american people will be interested with the information i have just brought from my native country. i am writing the story of my trip to lithuania and return at the suggestion of some of my fellow citizens, to whom i have narrated some ideas of it, in which they took much interest as instructive information for anyone who prepares for a trip to any part of the world. as this country is composed of citizens and patriots of all nationalities, so every citizen may get attraction to visit his native land; and even those who are born in this country are sometimes tempted to visit the country of their fathers and forefathers. exodium for waterbury, conn., citizens only. my dear friends and fellow citizens: i am glad to be with you again. why am i glad? because of the thirty-six years since i came to america, most of the time i have spent in waterbury. here i have lived for twenty-one years. because in waterbury i had time enough to make many friends, and if i did not do so, it is my own fault. in a word, in waterbury my adopted citizenship must have rooted much deeper than in the other parts of the united states in which i have lived for a much shorter time. what i saw in lithuania no matter how zealous patriots we may become in our adopted country, we should not forget altogether our native country. as i did not venture to visit lithuania under the czar in , when i was visiting other parts of europe, i had a great desire to see my native land after the horrible war. anyone would be anxious to visit his native country after thirty-six years' absence. it was not an easy task for me to get a passport, as the united states government objected to letting me cross germany. there being no american consul to germany, our government would not take the responsibility of protecting me in that country. to avoid crossing germany i was advised to ask for a passport through denmark, switzerland and libow, which i did. but the consul at denmark refused to put the visa on my passport unless i would send a cable to denmark and get the consent of the government. i went to washington to see the ambassador of denmark personally, and he told me the same as the consul in new york. i then went to the state department asking to have a change made in my passport which would permit me to go through france. this the state department refused to do. finally i went to mr. walsh, the senator from massachusetts, who sent his secretary with me to the state department, and the change was made immediately. i then went to the french ambassador who put his visa on my passport, and i was ready to go by way of france. it took me about two months to get the passport. on august th, , i embarked from new york, west fourteenth street, on the ship transatlantique la lorraine, to havre, france. the second night of my trip was very foggy. our ship sounded fog horns all night. i felt that the ship was standing still and went on deck to see what had happened. i saw lights flashing in two places, as if two ships were sinking not far from each other. on making inquiry from the sailors i found that our ship had collided with a fishing boat from canada, cutting it in two. fortunately all the fishermen were saved by our ship. i saw them struggling in their small boats against the waves near our ship, till they came close and the ropes were let down, by means of which their small boats were pulled up to our ship and the men were saved. next day a collection for the fishermen was taken up among our passengers which amounted to francs, and they were carried to havre. all the voyage to france was very stormy except one day at the beginning and one day near france. eight days' trip from new york to havre. sunday night about eight o'clock we reached havre, but we were obliged to sleep on the ship because monday morning the inspectors came to examine all passports and luggage. it was after one o'clock in the afternoon when i reached paris, where i called at the lithuanian legation to get directions for going by way of switzerland and libow to lithuania. they directed me to cross germany, assuring me that two lithuanian priests just before me had crossed germany without any trouble. they were ignorant of the fact that one of those priests lost in germany two suit cases valued at about five hundred dollars. this priest told me this later, when i met him in lithuania. after remaining in paris for three days, trusting the advice of the lithuanian legation, having seen all authorities of france and england, i started for lithuania by way of belgium, cologne, berlin, eytkunen, to the first station of lithuania, called valkaviskis. my baggage was addressed by the same route and was carried on the same train. the train left paris at : p. m. i had a chance to see some of the ruined cities of belgium only in the morning--at night there was no possibility of seeing. when we came to the first station in germany, herbesthal, the german inspector of passports and baggage came to examine all trunks. i was told that the train would wait there at the station till all the trunks were carried back to the baggage room and the same train would carry them together with the passengers. but it was just to the contrary. when i returned from the station after unlocking and locking my trunk the train was gone, and my trunk was left in herbesthal and my two suit cases were carried away to cologne. i was obliged to take another train to cologne. on the first train we were supposed to arrive in cologne about : a. m.; on the second train we did not arrive until very near four p. m. i was afraid of losing both my suit case, portable altar and the trunk. the suit case and the portable altar i found in cologne, with the help of the british soldiers, but my trunk, worth about five hundred dollars, is lost forever in germany. in cologne i tried in vain to get breakfast about : p. m. if you do not drink beer you can get nothing to eat. those who drink beer get some herrings without bread. bread you get only once a day--two small thin slices, for supper. there are no dining rooms on the trains any more in germany. at : p. m. the train left cologne for berlin. near berlin the british inspector of passports told me: "i allow you this time to pass this way to lithuania if you promise me not to return to america the same way." i said: "i will return by way of libow." at : a. m. the train arrived in berlin and left for koenigsberg and eytkunen at : p. m. the evening trip from berlin was a regular torture to me which i shall never forget. it seems to me that on that evening there must have been some sort of revolution among the german parties. no matter what the classification of the ticket of any passenger, whether first, second, third or fourth class, there was no distinction in the service on the train. there was such a multitude of people flocking to the train, the stronger ones trampling over the weaker--especially the women. even after the train was filled there were many left to stand and wait for another train. i had a second class ticket and was obliged to sit in the corridor on my suit case all night and the greater part of the day. on the train were many armed german soldiers going to latvia and a part of lithuania. i heard them talking about littau and mittau shauliai. after we passed koeningsburg near the eytkunen limit of lithuania, some persons, one of them in the uniform of a soldier, began to speak the lithuanian language. i asked them who they were and they told me they were lithuanian officials returning from berlin. as soon as we arrived at eytkunen, the german inspector asked to see our passports, and seeing on mine no visa by the german authority, i was told to return to berlin for the necessary signature. i informed him that the consul of switzerland in new york put the visa on my passport, permitting me to cross germany. this was not sufficient as the swiss consul had lost this authority at the termination of the war. fortunately the lithuanians whom i met at eytkunen appealed to the mayor of virbalis, a city of lithuania, who came to eytkunen and obtained my release. what a joy it was when a german soldier came to me while i was preparing to return to berlin and told me to proceed to lithuania. he led me to the train leaving for vilkaviskis. i was very anxious to see that part of the country for i was well acquainted with it thirty-six years ago. i saw that lithuania is more devastated than belgium. the germans crossed through belgium once only, while lithuania had been the regular battlefield for the german and russian armies. it was alternately captured and recaptured by the contending armies. when the russian army was fleeing it destroyed whatever opportunity afforded, likewise the german army in its retreat carried everything in its wake, pillaged, burned and destroyed whatever it could not take. i noticed in particular one village which had been, only a few trees were visible. numerous farm houses had been destroyed and burned to the ground. people now live in huts made partly of straw, old boards and clay. not only the war, but nature has made changes in lithuania. rivers, such as the seimena and sirvinta, are only brooks. as we approached vilkaviskis, my native town, the passengers called my attention to the station. my imagination failed to picture the rudely constructed hut as the same station of former years, which had been entirely destroyed by the invading army. when i descended from the train, my sister's son-in-law, whom i had seen in germany ten years ago, recognized me and conducted me to his home nearby. after spending a few happy hours with my friends and relatives i proceeded to the rectory. the next morning i was fortunate indeed to say mass for the first time in the church in which i was baptized. that afternoon at a meeting of the lithuanian sales corporation, i lectured on american lithuanians and americans in general. monday i went to kaunas, or kovno, to meet the [a]president of lithuania, anthony smetona, to extend to him the congratulations of the lithuanian total abstinance organization of america. [footnote a: when i presented to the president of lithuania, mr. anthony smetona, the said recommendation of the lithuanian total abstinance organization in america, which is indeed a suggestion to introduce the prohibition of the manufacture and sale of intoxicating drinks in lithuania--in other words, to imitate the american government in this respect, he expressed himself sufficiently in favor of it, but it is quite self-evident that he, as the president of lithuania alone, cannot accomplish it. in our conversation he made a suggestion to me that i should strive to get a chance to speak publicly in kaunas and in other places as much as possible on the subject of total abstinance, to which i expressed my hope that some of the priests of kaunas, no doubt, would give me a chance there. then the president said to me: "i have read in the lithuanian american newspapers so much of you as the apostle of total abstinance among lithuanians in america, i wish you would do the same here." in lithuania the opportunity to speak to the people is offered only on sunday, and in that case it is better in the church. so i had an opportunity on sundays and delivered sermons in seven churches. in one a good number of priests as guests were assembled and listened to my sermon. they were pleased and at dinner table were discussing about american prohibition. a great many of them are boldly opposed to it; some even expressing their doubt about total abstinance. but they all were curious to know what those lithuanians will do who were arrested and punished for manufacturing at home and selling intoxicants without the license of the government, after hearing of that sermon in the church. lithuanians in lithuania have learned from the germans when they were in occupation, not only how to make intoxicants, but also soap, sugar, etc. at first i considered it might be an insult to speak about total abstinance in lithuania, after the horrible war; that those people could not get any attraction to intoxicants having witnessed such horrors of the war. but i was soon informed by some good souls of the necessity of total abstinance and of the dangers and temptations of many to intoxication. so i could not part with lithuania without making an effort to sow the seed that might produce some good effects in the field of total abstinance. as soon as i came to boston and worcester the lithuanian total abstinance central committee held its quarter-annual convention and caught me unexpectedly and cross-examined me on the situation in lithuania. i was obliged to give an account of all i had done in lithuania for total abstinance and prohibition. i told them that the president alone could not introduce prohibition, and that they will wait until a general convention of lithuanians will take place. then they appointed me to write to the president for an official answer to their communication, and that i should strive to find some way by which the total abstinance organization of america could unite in co-operation with the same organization in lithuania. so i undertook to do so, and am trying now to perform my obligation, but at present the correspondence with lithuania is very slow.] the president of lithuania was very thankful to the americans and lithuanians for the help they so generously extended to alleviate the sufferings of the people committed to his care. i visited the institution for teachers, called "saules namai", the home of the sun, which was almost miraculously saved from the devastations of war. while speaking of this institution i must also say a few words about the vast difference in spirit of the lithuanians of the past and present. in former years the parents were free to send or not to send their children to school under the regime of the czar. few parents grasped this opportunity for they despised education, saying our forefathers were very good people without education, so we and our children will remain without it. i was very much surprised to see the spirit among the lithuanians today. the young and old are eager to learn, to educate, to build schools and institutions of learning. the larger cities have gymnasiums or higher schools for girls and boys. they are creating new organizations to support these institutions and are exerting to the utmost to preserve them. the spirit of patriotism i would not dare to undertake to describe to you the spirit of patriotism of the lithuanians in their native land, for i am a lithuanian, and some may say that it is quite natural to praise one's own. but what i have heard from their enemies, the germans, would seem to be legitimate. even they are amazed to see the patriotic spirit of the lithuanians, especially young boys eighteen and nineteen years of age who are so anxious to defend their liberty. they are presenting themselves in great numbers to the officials of the present government to be enrolled in the army, but for the lack of ammunition and clothing great numbers are turned away. in my conversation with some of these soldiers i asked them if they really thought they could defend their country from the yoke of their oppressors. their answer was: "we will not submit to any yoke; we know well that our fathers and forefathers suffered for so many centuries, and we in turn shall defend our liberty to the last drop of blood." one of these soldiers was preparing to return to war against the kolchakians and germans, to expel them from the city called siauliai, which they had lately occupied. after repulsing the bolshevik from the dvinsk, they had a few weeks' rest and then marched to kaunas. at the time i was visiting lithuania she was surrounded by enemies--on the north and east by the bolsheviks, on the west by kolchak and the insurgent germans, and on the south by the poles. the most stupendous fact is that at present the poles are the most dangerous foes of the lithuanians. the poles, rejoicing in their own liberation from the yoke of oppression, are altogether unmindful that they are striving to place the lithuanian nation under worse oppression. when the germans occupied lithuania they did not treat them as roughly as the poles are doing at this moment. for example, i was in lithuania when the poles took seinai, the seat of bishop karosas, which is a lithuanian city, imprisoned the lithuanian bishop in his residence, expelled the ecclesiastical students from their seminary, arrested two priests and carried them to poland. if any of the remaining priests are called out on a sick call, they send armed soldiers to accompany the priest and guard his movements strictly. they did not permit the bishop to correspond with his pastors, or the priests of the diocese, nor was anyone permitted to call on him. the germans during their occupation never guarded a priest going to sick calls. here is a translation of a little article taken from a lithuanian political daily newspaper called lietuva (lithuania) of october , : "actions of the polish occupants.--the polish army came to the district of vilkaviskis in september. after two weeks they began to show their rapacity. they robbed augustin kliogutis of norvydai while he was going home from church, with five other companions, stripped them of their clothing and left them in puris naturalibus." similar notices filled the paper with the various robberies committed by soldiers of the polish army. on september , , one of the polish officials called the lithuanian people together and promised them great favors--while the people asked him to stop the robberies, which would have been the greatest favor possible. the lithuanians say: "if the poles could grant us favors they would not keep their soldiers half naked and half starved." for all this greediness and avariciousness of the polish people i do not blame the good polish citizens and patriots, because in our days in all nationalities there are a great many political parties, of which the governments are composed, the greater number of those compelling the entire nation to act against the good will of the citizens. on the other hand we lithuanians cannot boast too much of our patriotism, as though we had no traitor, even among the poles. there are many polonized lithuanians, or so-called poles who by the familiar and long intercourse with the polish race, gradually neglected and despised and finally rejected entirely the lithuanian language, adopted the polish language in such a manner that some of them do not acknowledge to be lithuanians but claim to be of polish descendency--in other words, polish by birth. these are the greatest persecutors of the lithuanians now. this is the principal reason why the poles took possession of vilna, the first capitol of lithuania. they maintain that all the province of vilna is purely polish. in this way the polish patriots, joined by the polonized lithuanian renegades and traitors, try to induce others to join their party, and to struggle to find the demarkation between the two countries would appear endless without the final decision of the allies. it is true what the rev. laukaitis remarked in his speech, that the poles are carrying on their propaganda to induce more of the lithuanian farmers, ignorant enough, to sign the polish alliance. they send their crafty speakers to the villages near the boundary trying to persuade the lithuanian government to permit a ballot to be cast in vilna as to which side they prefer to belong. these propagandists do not tell the truth. they, like the bolsheviks, promise mountains of gold, and in the end give bitter sorrow. it would indeed be foolish to allow a ballot after these speakers obtain the signatures of the farmers, who, through their ignorance, are misled by the vain promises and misleading arguments that the lithuanians are incapable of self-government, without first hearing our side. with such arguments it would take only a few months to lead astray all the lithuanians or vice versa lithuanian speakers could bring to our side all poles. members of the british mission at kaunas (kovo) told me that the lithuanians are very brave soldiers who have so many enemies, yet nevertheless keep their spirit of patriotism so long and so firmly. it stands to reason then, that the lithuanians, as a nation, are very brave, considering the numbers of poles and lithuanians, you could hardly imagine how the lithuanians could dare oppose the poles, and yet you see they attempt to oppose many armies. lithuania has about one-fifth the population of poland in europe and about one-third the population of the poles in america. while i was spending five days in kaunas, the temporary capital of lithuania, the president received a cable from lloyd george, london, recognizing the independence of lithuania. this was on the night of september th. as soon as the cable arrived the lithuanian government had the greatest demonstration in the history of the nation, wholly unmindful of the weather and rain. parades, speeches, and the wildest rejoicing for this newly realized dream took possession of the city. i intended to remain in lithuania until may, but was obliged to change my mind for more than one reason. my winter apparel was in the lost baggage in germany and the cold weather was approaching rapidly. there was no possibility for me to visit all the parish churches as intended. there was no means of travel, train or vehicle. during the war the lithuanians were deprived of all their horses. those which they have now are used on the farms. with the greatest difficulty i managed to visit the following: kybartai, virbalis, alvitas, lankeliskiai, valkaviskis, gizai, marjampole, kaunas, and kamendulai. i did not get the opportunity to see the bishop of vilona; for there was no consul of poland in lithuania to sign my passport. i spoke with the suffragan of the bishop of kaunas. the bishop of seinai was arrested by the poles. the last and to me the most important reason why i was determined to return to america immediately was because of the bad treatment the lithuanian bishops, priests and ecclesiastical students received in seinai. i resolved to return to appeal to the sympathetic hearts of the americans to protest against the wrong-doings of the poles. after visiting the above mentioned places, i decided to find out when and how i could get a ship from england to new york. i went to kaunas a second time, as i was advised that i should telephone to libow for information with regard to sailings of english ships--so as to know how long i could remain in lithuania. at kaunas i learned that the germans and kolchakians had taken siauliai, a city between kaunas and libow, and that i could not go back to america by way of libow. the telephone was interrupted by the occupants. then there was no way left to me but to go to the english mission at kaunas to get a permit to go back via germany, and to go to the german consul at kaunas to put a visa on my passport for the same purpose. having obtained all the documents i said adieu to kaunas, adieu lithuania, adieu vilkaviskis, adieu my sister and all her family. on october i took the german train from eytkunen to berlin and cologne. in cologne i remained three days, making investigation for my lost baggage, but in vain. via brussells to ostend, where i embarked on the four hours vessel from ostend to dower, an english port. on october i came to london at : p. m. there i was obliged to spend all night walking up and down the front of the church to avoid catching cold, because there was no possibility of getting a place in any of the hotels. next morning the first thing i went to find out how soon i could get the ship mauretania. i was informed that it was not sure if the mauretania would be able to start for new york on december , because it was in repair. there were some smaller ships to start sooner, which i did not risk. in scotland two lithuanian priests who were informed of my coming to london and would not be able to get a ship to america for a long time, invited me to scotland to give mission to the lithuanians there. having consented to do so, i came to glasgow november . in the following places i gave mission of four days each: graigneuk, motherwell, garfin, burnbank; and a whole week in each of the following places: mossend and glasgow. i also spent one week at manchester in england. the missions were very successful in all places. the lithuanians were rejoicing and saying that my not getting a ship was very providential. on december , i came back to london and bought my ticket to cross the ocean on the canadian ship called empress of france, which was to start january , . on december i came to liverpool to spend a few days there in getting ready for my voyage to canada and the united states. on coming to liverpool, i learned that the "empress of france" was to start four days later, than was intended, on january th. the lithuanian people of liverpool asked me to give a mission to them. on the sunday after christmas i opened a mission for the lithuanians of liverpool, and closed it the next sunday. on wednesday, january th, i embarked on the ship for st. john, canada. the "empress of france" claims to make her trip in six days, but in rough weather it took us fully eight days, so it was january th, about : p. m., we arrived in st. john, canada. next morning, after examining our passports and trunks, we landed. there was no train to boston, mass., till : p. m. i arrived at boston january th, just a few minutes before o'clock a. m. the object of this lecture. some one may inquire of me, what i wish the americans to do for lithuania? all small nations of the world, so far, had the greatest confidence in the +league of nations+, which promised to all equal liberty of existence and self-determination, toleration of its language, etc. the principal characteristic of any nation is the language of that nation. if the native language is forbidden to any nation by those becoming its conquerors, the nation is exterminated. all the enemies of lithuania seem to be very anxious to deprive the people of their language, for as soon as they take possession of some of the lithuanian cities or towns, the first step they take is to forbid the children to be taught the lithuanian language. now, with all the smaller nations of the world, lithuanians are crying: "where is justice? why are our enemies so anxious to deprive us of our language? in what respect is our enemies' language better than our own? is it our fault that we are born of lithuanian parents and speak lithuanian language?" philologists are demonstrating that the lithuanian language, of all european languages, is the nearest to sanscrit. all educated people are glad to know that there is some nation in existence using the oldest of speaking tongues. why is it that, in our days, people who claim to be very highly educated are attempting to exterminate the nation which is using the oldest language? nothing but envy, greed and grab! now, as the +league or nations+ is gradually dying, so all hope of preserving the lithuanian nation, together with its language, is diminishing. some people maintain that the +league of nations+ is diametrically opposed to the will of god, expressed in the prophesies of the bible; that there will be no end of wars to the very end of the world. but we know, positively, that god does not want wars; that god wants peace. we know very well that all the causes of the wars are to be found in the iniquities of men--in the seven capital sins. if not all the prophesies of the bible, at least a great many can be explained conditionally. if people mend their behaviour, the punishments, which have been foretold for their crimes, will not take place, because the nature itself, which has been so directed by the creator to punish man for deviating from the order, is changed by man's actions. in fact, some of the prophesies of the old testament we could not explain, save in this way. if all people would strive to stop the wars, the +league of nations+ would become the means of bringing universal peace on earth, according to the will of the almighty. i wish the american people would study this question as closely as possible, and bring all nations to everlasting peace. we can plainly see, from the following text of the bible, that god wants all people to live in peace always: "but if one strike thee on thy right cheek, turn to him also the other. * * * and if any man will contend with thee in judgment, and take away thy coat, let go thy cloak also unto him."--matt. v. . god could never have said this, unless he foresaw the possibility of lasting peace among all men and all nations in this world. just imagine, if all people and all nations in this world were readily prepared to turn their other cheek to the one who is ready to strike you on your right cheek. it is self evident there would be none to strike his neighbor on his right cheek. and if everybody in the world would be ready to let go his cloak to one who is ready to take away his coat, there would be none to deprive any one of his coat. as long as we believe that jesus christ, who said these words, is true god and true man; as long as we know that every man has free will, and can do what he pleases, so long is this principle possible to every man. even to those people who do not believe in the divinity of jesus christ, this principle could be explained as a natural law: do not do unto others what you do not want others to do unto you; do unto others what you wish others to do unto you. if all intelligent people, together with those who are aspiring to a higher education, would strive to organize a league to educate all people in this particular principle, there would be no doubt of its success, because no people would desire to have another war. everybody knows that war does no good to any one; and that another war would be ten times worse than the one we have had. i do not see why the +league of nations+ or another similar reorganized regulation of nations, should not attract all nations to a union of such principles as these. the objector insists: "i do not mean that the +league of nations+ is opposed to the will of god, as if god wanted wars, but god, foreseeing the wickedness of men, prophesied that there will be no peace among men to the end of the world." it is sufficient to us to know that god does not want war, that god wants peace; or, in other words, to know god's will, and to strive to do it. as long as we know that either the +league of nations+ or other international organization is in accordance to the will of god--who is striving to induce all nations to prevent wars in future--just as god wants all people to live in peace always--so we ought to strive, by word and example, to induce all nations to hate wars and live in peace. as every human being has a right to existence, so every family and every nation has a right to exist and use its own language, etc. no one has the right to destroy small nations because they are too small to govern themselves. for the very reason, if there be no more wars, if the +league of nations+ is to be sincere in every respect, to reject all greediness, which is the cause of wars, there would be no more necessity of greatness to be able to defend against foes. just as every family is capable of governing itself, so the smallest nation can govern itself. so far the league of nations does not produce its desired effect, because there is no confidence in some nations in one another. one nation does not trust the other. it is a new branch of science. it requires a good deal of study--and study by all nations and all persons--until some one may discover the means to induce the desired confidence satisfactory for all nations. i hope americans will make the greatest progress in this line, as in everything else. my opinion is that all nations could be induced to trust one another, if the above principle of natural law would be plainly explained, either in all languages or in +aspiranto+ language. if all representatives of all nations would sign the agreement, then the danger would be removed far away. if it is so difficult to induce one nation to trust the other nation to join the league, how can you expect any small nation to be inspired with any confidence when it is annexed to another greater nation by force? no matter how long it will be annexed, it will seek opportunity to free itself, and, unless you amputate its tongue, it will adhere to its language. just exactly like a cat and a dog in one bag, one will bark, the other will cry its own song, or, like a patched dress, will remain patched forever. [illustration: decoration] project gutenberg (this file was produced from images generously made available by the internet archive/american libraries.) the kingdom of georgia notes of travel in a land of women, wine, and song to which are appended historical, literary, and political sketches, specimens of the national music, and a compendious bibliography by oliver wardrop with illustrations and maps london sampson low, marston, searle, & rivington limited st. dunstan's house, fetter lane, fleet street, e.c. to professor james bryce, m.p., these notes are dedicated (by permission), with heartfelt gratitude and profound respect. preface. there were four of us--two frenchmen, an italian, and an englishman. we had ridden from damascus to baalbek, and had seen the ruins; after dinner, we were lying on heaps of cushions on the floor, in a hostelry little known to europeans. for some minutes the bubbling of our narghilés was the only sound that broke the stillness of the night. then the ex-cuirassier spoke out in a strong voice--the voice of a man accustomed to command--"gentlemen! i propose that we solemnly pass a vote of censure on the late m. de lamartine." "bravo!" was our unanimous cry; and the vote was carried, nemine contradicente. a rider was added, to the effect that poets should be discouraged from writing books of travel. "surely a strange proceeding!" says the reader. let me explain. we had been shut up in damascus for a long time by heavy snow-storms which blocked the roads; the most interesting book we had was lamartine's "voyage en orient," and we had read the long description of baalbek over and over again, until we almost knew it by heart. need i say that the reality disappointed us? if we had never read lamartine's book, we should have been delighted with the place; but having read it, we wanted the poet's eyes in order to see the temples as he saw them. but what has all this to do with georgia? simply this: the following pages are not written by a poet, and, gentle sir, if you ever pass a vote of censure on the writer of them, it will not be for the reason that he has painted things and places in a rose-coloured atmosphere. in publishing these notes i have had but one object--to excite the curiosity of my fellow-countrymen; the means of gratifying this curiosity are indicated in the bibliographical section. georgia is practically unknown to the british public; well-educated people know that the country is famous for its beautiful women, but they are not very sure whether those charming creatures live under persian, turkish, or russian rule, while not one person in a thousand knows that the georgians and circassians are distinct peoples. if you suggest that transcaucasia is a good place for a holiday, you meet with a look of blank astonishment--it is just as if you had said the sooloo islands, or vladivostok. when you explain that georgia is now a part of the russian empire, you hear stereotyped remarks about police and passports. the intending visitor need have no anxiety on this score; even in moscow a foreigner is seldom or never put to any inconvenience, in the caucasus he almost forgets that he has such a thing as a passport. there is no reason why georgia should not become as popular a resort as norway or switzerland. it is not so far away as people imagine--you can go from london to tiflis, overland, in a week; it is at least as beautiful as either of the countries just named; it has the great advantage of being almost unknown to tourists; there is none of the impudent extortion which ruffles our tempers nearer home, and it is, after all, a cheaper place to travel in than scotland. all these circumstances ought to have an influence on the holiday-maker in search of health and recreation. the botanist, the geologist, the archæologist, the philologist will all find there mines of rich materials yet unknown to their respective sciences. the mountaineer knows the country already, through mr. freshfield's excellent book; the sportsman knows it too, thanks to mr. wolley. artists will get there a new field for the brush, the pencil, and the camera. but, after all, georgia's chief attraction lies in its people; the georgians are not only fair to look upon, but they are essentially a lovable people; it is a true proverb that says, "the armenian's soul is in his head, the georgian's in his eyes;" to live among such gay, open-hearted, open-handed, honest, innocent folk is the best cure for melancholy and misanthropy that could well be imagined. the language will occur to most people as a difficulty. either russian or georgian carries the traveller from the black sea to the caspian, even turkish is pretty well known; in the larger towns one can always find hotels where french or german is understood, and where interpreters can be hired. those who have travelled know that a very slight knowledge of a language is sufficient for all practical purposes, and such a knowledge of georgian could be picked up in a week or so; russian is more difficult, both in grammar and pronunciation. it may be a consolation to some, to know that a lady, mme. carla serena, who travelled alone, and spent a long time in the wildest part of the caucasus, could not speak a dozen words of russian or georgian. let me clearly repeat what i said in the first paragraphs of this preface: in the following plain, matter-of-fact record of travel my aim has not been to give immediate pleasure, but rather to show how and where pleasure may be obtained. autumn is the best season for a visit, and spring is the next best time. my hearty thanks are due to mr. w. r. morfill, for his kindness in reading through the chapters on the history and literature of georgia. o. w. oxford, september, . note. in transcribing proper names i have tried to preserve the original orthography as far as possible. a should be pronounced as in father. e should be pronounced like a in made. i should be pronounced as in machine. u should be pronounced as in rude. ch should be pronounced as in church. kh should be pronounced like ch in scottish and german. s should be pronounced as in sun. z should be pronounced as in amaze. g should be pronounced as in gun. y should be pronounced as in yellow contents. page batum to tiflis tiflis the georgian military road between tiflis and vladikavkaz the kakhetian road--tiflis to signakh signakh a trip across the alazana signakh to telav, and thence to tiflis the history of georgia the language and literature of georgia the political condition of the kingdom of georgia appendix. bibliography statistics specimens of georgian vocal music list of illustrations. a few illustrations and the map at the end of the volume are not available in the scan-set used to prepare this ebook. several other illustrations still contain the perforated library markings. tiflis frontispiece maps of transcaucasian railway and military road to face page a georgian wrestler saint nina ananur dariel fort and ruins of tamara's castle dariel vladikavkaz an arba a street in signakh georgian national costume the city wall, telav queen tamara irakli ii rustaveli prince ilia chavchavadze prince ivané machabeli bishop gabriel of kutaïs map of georgia at the end. the kingdom of georgia. batum to tiflis. one morning in april, , after a five days' passage from odessa, we entered the harbour at batum. batum (hôtel imperial, hôtel de france, hôtel d'europe) is a town of , inhabitants, mostly georgians; it consists of an ancient asiatic quarter, dirty and tumble-down looking, and a european one only seven years old. its situation at the foot of the mountains is lovely beyond all description. the place has a decidedly "far west" look about it, everything seems half-finished; the streets are broad and, with a few exceptions, unpaved, the depth of the mud varies from three or four inches to half a yard, heaps of rotting filth furnish food for numerous pigs, and in the best thoroughfares ducks find convenient lakes on which to disport themselves. i took an early opportunity of presenting myself at the british vice-consulate, a small, two-storey cottage, the lower half of which is of brick, the upper of corrugated iron sheets. mr. demetrius r. peacock, the only representative of british interests in the caucasus, is a man whose services deserve fuller recognition. it would be hard to find a post where more diplomatic tact is required, yet he contrives to make himself respected and admired by all the many races with which he is in daily contact. mr. peacock was born in russia, and has spent most of his life in that empire, but he is nevertheless a thorough englishman. in tiflis i heard a good story about him. on one occasion the french consul-general jokingly said to him, "why, peacock, you are no englishman, you were born in russia." to which our representative replied, "our saviour was born in a stable, but for all that he did not turn out a horse." although batum is not very attractive as a town, it is at any rate far preferable to poti or sukhum, and it has undoubtedly a splendid future before it. even at the present time the exports amount to nearly , tons, chiefly petroleum, manganese ores, wool, cotton, maize, tobacco, wine, fancy woods, &c. it is essentially a city of the future; and its inhabitants firmly believe that it will yet be a powerful rival of odessa in trade, and of the crimean coast-towns as a watering-place. at present we should hardly recommend it to invalids; the marshes round about are gradually being drained; but they still produce enough malaria to make the place dangerous to europeans; the drinking-water, too, is bad. the harbour is fairly well sheltered, but rather small; yet, to the unprofessional eye, there seems no reason why it might not easily be enlarged if necessary. the entrance is protected by a fortification in the form of an irregular rectangle, lying on the s.w. corner of the bay, behind the lighthouse. the earthworks, about seventy or eighty feet high, and lined with masonry, cover a piece of ground apparently about paces long by paces broad; a broad-gauge railway surrounds the fortress. when i was there the work was being pushed forward very rapidly, and preparations were being made to fix a heavy gun close to the lighthouse--at that time there were only about a dozen guns of small calibre in position. in the town there is absolutely nothing to attract the stranger's attention; a few mosques and churches, petroleum refineries, half a dozen european shops, some half-finished public buildings, and the embryo of a public garden on the shore serve as an excuse for a walk; but if the traveller happens to hit upon a spell of wet weather, he will soon have seen all he wants to see of batum, and will get out of its atmosphere of marsh gas and petroleum as soon as possible. the only daily train leaves at eight o'clock in the morning; the station, although it is a terminus of so much importance, is a wretched wooden building, a striking contrast to the one at baku, which would not disgrace our own metropolis. the railway skirts the sea for about thirty miles, and on the right lies a range of hills covered with a luxuriant growth of fine forest-trees and thick undergrowth gay with blossoms; in the neighbourhood of the town there are already many pretty villas. the rain of the previous few weeks had made the woods wonderfully beautiful, and the moist air was heavy with fragrance; i never saw such a wealth of plant life before. at samtredi, where the lines from batum and poti meet, we leave guri and mingreli behind us and enter imereti. on the left we now have a fine broad plain, and near us flows the rion, the ancient phasis. the country is far more thickly populated than guri or mingreli, or any other part of trans-caucasia, but it could easily support a much larger number if the ground were properly worked. i was amazed when i saw, for the first time, five pairs of oxen dragging one wooden plough, but the sight of this became familiar to me before i had lived long in georgia. at the roadside stations (i need hardly say that our train stopped at all of them) i saw some fine faces--one poor fellow in a ragged sheepskin cloak quite startled me by his resemblance to dante alighieri. from the station of rion, on the river of that name, a branch line runs northward to kutaïs, none other than the cyta in colchis whence jason carried off medea and the golden fleece. kutaïs (hôtel de france, hôtel colchide, hôtel d'italie) is a beautiful town of , inhabitants, almost all georgians. the ruins of an old castle on the other side of the river show where the town stood a century ago, and from this point the best view of kutaïs is obtained. abundance of good building-stone, a rich soil, and plenty of trees, render the capital of imereti a charming sight; its elevation of about feet makes its atmosphere cool and bracing compared with that of the coast-towns. the traveller who wishes to become acquainted with georgian town-life cannot do better than stay in kutaïs a month or two. about five miles off is the monastery of gelati, built in the tenth century, and renowned as the burial-place of the glorious queen tamara. from kutaïs a journey may be made to svaneti, the last caucasian state conquered by russia, and even now only nominally a part of the tsar's dominions; mr. wolley's book, "savage svanetia," will give the intending visitor some idea of the sport that may be had in that wild region. the road across the caucasus from kutaïs to vladikavkaz is much higher and wilder than the famous dariel road, and i much regret that i had not time to travel by it. pursuing our journey from rion to the eastward we soon reach kvirili, which is about to be connected by a branch line of railway with chiaturi, the centre of the manganese district; at present all the ore is carried down to the main line, a distance of twenty-five miles, in the wooden carts called arbas. passing through glens of wondrous beauty, adorned with picturesque ruins of ancient strongholds, we at length arrive at the mountain of suram, feet above black sea level, the watershed which separates the valley of the kura, with its hot summers and cold winters, from the more temperate region drained by the rion. the railway climbs very rapidly to the summit of the pass, but it comes down still more rapidly; there is a slope of one in twenty for a distance of a thousand feet; at the bottom is the town of suram with its fine old castle. we now follow the course of the kura all the way to tiflis, passing mikhailovo (whence a road runs to borzhom, the most fashionable summer-resort in trans-caucasia) and gori, a good-sized town, near which is the rock city of uphlis tsikhe. it is half past nine at night before mtzkhet, the ancient capital of georgia, is reached, and at a quarter past ten we enter tiflis, ten hours from kutaïs, and fourteen hours from batum. our journey is not yet ended, however, for it takes half an hour to drive from the station to the fashionable quarter of the town where the hotels are situated. tiflis. the best hotels are kavkaz, rossiya, london; all pretty good. if the traveller intends to make a prolonged stay, he can easily find furnished apartments and dine at a restaurant (e.g. the french restaurant d'europe, opposite the palace). the best plan of all is to board with a georgian family; but without good introductions it is somewhat difficult to do this. although beef only costs - / d. a pound and chickens d. each, living is dear in tiflis; the necessaries of life, except house-rent and clothing, are cheap, and one need not, like alexandre dumas, pay three roubles for having his hair cut, but the "extras" are heavy, and if the visitor is not disposed to spend his roubles with a free hand and a light heart, he will meet with a poor reception, for the georgian hates nothing more than meanness, a vice from which he firmly believes englishmen to be free. tiflis takes its name from the hot medicinal springs, for which it has been famous for fourteen centuries at least; in georgian it is called tphilisi, which philologists assert to be derived from a root akin to or identical with the indo-european tep; the meaning of toeplitz and tiflis is thus the same. in the fifth century king vakhtang gurgaslan founded tiflis, and began to build the cathedral of sion, which still stands in the midst of the city. the castle, situated on a high, steep rock, near the kura, is older than the city itself, and its construction is attributed to the persians. tiflis has shared in all the triumphs and misfortunes which have befallen georgia, and the history of the capital would only be a repetition of the history of the nation. the city is built on both sides of the kura, at an elevation of feet, between two ranges of steep, bare hills, which rise to a height of feet, and hem it in on all sides, thus it lies at the bottom of a deep rock basin, and this accounts for the terrible heat which renders it such an unpleasant dwelling-place in july and august. the river kura is crossed by several fine bridges, the best of which is named after prince vorontsov, who during his governorship did great things for trans-caucasia, and gained for himself the lasting gratitude of all the peoples committed to his care. the population of , consists not only of georgians, but of russians (civil servants and soldiers), armenians (traders and money-lenders), persians, tatars, and a few europeans, viz. germans (colonists from suabia), frenchmen (milliners, hotel-keepers), &c. although the english residents might be counted on one's fingers, it seems a pity that her majesty's consulate should have been closed in ; surely great britain has in georgia interests at least equal to those of france, germany, belgium, and the other nations which have representatives in tiflis. the effect which tiflis produces on the mind of the stranger is perfectly unique; its position, its surroundings, the varied nature of its street-life, the gaiety and simplicity of its social life, all combine to form a most powerful and most pleasurable impression. if the reader will mentally accompany me, i shall take him through some of the more interesting quarters, and endeavour to give him some idea of the place. first of all, starting from the fashionable district called salalaki, let us climb the rocky road which leads to the ruins of the castle, whence we obtain the finest view of the city. the best time to enjoy the panorama is evening, and in summer no one would ever think of making the toilsome ascent much before sunset. from these crumbling walls one looks over a vast expanse of house-tops and church spires, through the midst of which winds the muddy kura. at our feet lies the old town, a labyrinth of narrow, crooked streets, stretching from the square of erivan down to the waterside, where stands the cathedral of sion. quite near at hand the river becomes very narrow, and advantage of this circumstance has been taken by building a bridge, which leads to the citadel of metekh (now used as a prison) and the large asiatic quarter called avlabar. on this side of the river, forming a continuation of the range of hills on which we are standing, rises the holy mount (mtatsminda), and perched high up near its summit is the pretty white church of st. david, behind which rises a wall of bare, black rock; half-way between it and the river is the governor's palace, with its extensive gardens, just at the beginning of the golovinskii prospekt, a long boulevard with fine shops and public buildings; between the boulevard and the river lies the municipal garden, named after alexander i. turning our eyes towards the other side of the kura, beyond avlabar, we see, on the hill facing st. david's, a large block of buildings used as a military depôt, arsenal, and barracks, and still farther on, on the river bank, is a thick green belt which we recognize as the gardens of mikhailovskaya street, ending in the splendid park called mushtaïd. crossing the ridge, we now turn our back on the city and descend into the botanical garden, situated in a sheltered ravine, a delightful place for an evening stroll; on the opposite side of the ravine is a tatar village with a lonely graveyard. the erivan square is the great centre of activity; in its midst is the caravanserai, a vast rectangular building full of shops, not unlike the gostinoï dvor, in petersburg, but poorer. from that corner of the square in which is the hôtel du caucase, runs palace street, all one side of which is occupied by the caravanserai of the late mr. artsruni, a wealthy armenian, and behind, in a fine garden, is the georgian theatre; both the garden and the theatre belong to the land bank of the nobles, an institution which deserves the attention of all who are interested in the iverian nation. the bank was founded in in order to aid farmers to work their lands by advancing them money at the lowest possible rate of interest; all the profits are spent in the furtherance of philanthropic schemes and in the encouragement of national education. it is a significant fact that the more intelligent members of georgian society should have chosen this mode of activity in preference to any other, but the reason of their choice is apparent; from the bitter experience of the last hundred years they have learnt that although munificence is one of the noblest of the virtues, extravagance and ostentation are hurtful, and they have, therefore, wisely determined to do all they can to improve the economic condition of the country. the public meetings of the shareholders give an opportunity for discussion and speech-making, and it is in this "gruzinskii parlament" (as the russians have nicknamed it) that prince chavchavadze has gained for himself the not unmerited title of the "georgian gambetta." i was an occupant of the ladies' gallery at one of these assemblies, and i shall never forget the impression produced upon me by the sight of these handsome, warlike asians in their picturesque garb, conducting their proceedings exactly in the same order as british investors do every day in the city of london. try and imagine the heroes of the elizabethan age at cannon street hotel discussing the current dividend of the s.e.r., and you will have some idea of my feelings. only those who have lived the life of the people in trans-caucasia know what a terrible curse the money-lending community are. a local proverb says, "a greek will cheat three jews, but an armenian will cheat three greeks," and the georgian, straightforward, honest fellow, is but too often cruelly swindled by the artful children of haïk. when the fraud is very apparent the armenian often pays for his greed with all the blood that can be extracted from his jugular vein. during my stay in tiflis, a certain wild young prince, avalov, had made himself popular by slaughtering a few armenians; his latest exploit made so much stir that a prosecution was talked of; but avalov was no dweller in towns, he spent his time merrily out in the greenwood, and it would have needed a company of kazaks to arrest him. while the authorities were deliberating, the prince sent a polite message to say that if they tried to make matters unpleasant for him, he would, with god's help, devote the remainder of his natural life to running amuck of every "salted" armenian (a reference to their habit of salting children as soon as they are born) that crossed his path. another young nobleman got three years' imprisonment for "perforating" an insulting usurer, and the cruelty of the sentence was much spoken of; a lady said to me, "just fancy, that fine young fellow imprisoned among common criminals for killing a rascal of an armenian," as who should say for killing a dog. let it be clearly understood that i say nothing against the armenian nation; i have the strongest admiration for their undoubted literary and administrative talent, and for the energy with which they resist all attempts to destroy their national spirit. the armenian not being a money-lender or trader, is a citizen of which any country might be proud; but the usurer, whether he be jew, armenian, or briton, is a most despicable character, and, unfortunately, the peculiar conditions under which the armenians have lived for many centuries have necessarily made shylocks of a large percentage of them. continuing our walk, we emerge from palace street into the wide golovinskii prospekt, which takes its name from golovin, a former governor of the caucasus. on the left lies the palace, a fine modern building in the european style, and on the right is the caucasian museum, in which the student will find geological, zoological, ethnographical, entomological, botanical, archeological, and numismatic collections of the highest interest. on the walls of the staircase are several large pictures, the most interesting of which are, a portrait of queen tamara, copied from the painting at gelati, and "the arrival of the argonauts in colchis," the figures in which are all portraits, the grand duke nicholas mikhailovich being represented as jason. there is also a very large collection of photographs, comprising all that is worth seeing in the caucasus and in persia. in the same block of buildings is the public library, in which will be found most of the literature relating to the country, and a fair number of books on general subjects. the library is at the corner of the prospekt and baronovskaya street, and turning down the latter, the first turning on the right brings us to the post office, facing which is a girls' grammar school. the traveller who happens to pass that way when the lessons for the day are over (and he might do worse if he likes to see pretty young faces), will be surprised, unless he has been in russia, to see that all the children are dressed alike, regardless of age, complexion, and taste; he will be still more surprised when he hears that if one of these uniforms is seen out after p.m., the fair wearer is severely punished, it being the opinion of the tsar's minister of education that school-girls, and school-boys too, should after that hour be at home preparing their tasks for next day. the school accommodation is lamentably inadequate; in the government of tiflis there are only about children at school for every , of the population, in the government of kutaïs only . returning to golovinskii prospekt, we pass on the right the staff headquarters of the army of the caucasus, the best restaurant in the city, some good shops, and then arrive at the aleksandrovskii garden, which slopes down to the river bank; its shady walks are thronged every evening when a military band performs. near its extreme corner, and almost on the waterside, is the russian theatre; although the house is a small one and only used as a makeshift until the new theatre is finished, it is a very pleasant place to spend an evening; good companies from petersburg and moscow play during the season, and i saw some of the stars of the profession there. unfortunately, there is a preference for translations of french and german pieces with which the european is already familiar, but russian plays are not totally ignored. i once saw a version of "le monde où l'on s'ennuie" which was in the smallest details of gesture and property a photographic reproduction of the comedy as i have seen it on the classic boards of the théâtre français--but there was one startling innovation, bellac was described on the programme as an abbé (sic!). the great charm of the tifliskii theatre is, however, its open air crush-room, a fine large garden where a band plays between the acts, and where refreshments may be partaken of and smoking indulged in. the new theatre on golovinskii prospekt is a handsome edifice which was still unfinished at the time of my visit. the farther you get from the erivan square the less aristocratic does the boulevard become, the only other building of note in that part of it being the cadets' college; the opening of the new theatre will, however, make a great difference, and in a few years the dirty little beershops on the left will doubtless disappear, and golovinskii prospekt will be one of the finest streets in the world. its situation is a splendid one, and is not unworthy of comparison with that of princes' street, edinburgh; the holy mount, rising black and steep to a considerable height, and adorned with the pretty white church of st. david, might not inaptly be said to be to tiflis what the castle hill is to the modern athens. at the end of the boulevard is the posting-station, whence we can return to our starting-place by tram-car. all the main thoroughfares of the city are now laid with tram-lines, the construction of which is due to a belgian company which is paying very good dividends. thursday afternoon is the best time for visiting the church of st. david, for a service is then held and large numbers of women attend. proceeding from salalaki along laboratornaya, which is parallel to the boulevard and is the most select street in tiflis, we reach the street of the holy mount (mtatsmindskaya), a steep, roughly-paved thoroughfare which leads up to st. david's place, and a winding mountain path takes us thence to the church. st. david was a syrian monk who came to georgia in the sixth century, and lived a hermit's life among the woods which at that time covered the hill. tradition says that the daughter of a wealthy man who lived near there, finding herself in an interesting condition, thought the best way of getting out of the difficulty would be to accuse the saint of being the cause of this state of affairs. the holy man, naturally, objected, and having made his accuser appear in an assembly of the people, he proved his innocence by making the unborn child say audibly who was its father. whereupon, in answer to the prayers of the saint, the child was converted into a stone, which the damsel brought forth immediately. this stone was made the foundation of a church. david then asked that a spring of living water of fructifying virtue might be made to flow; this fountain is still visible, and its water is largely used by married ladies; the climb of twenty minutes from st. david's place is so toilsome that even the most bitter malthusian would hasten to quench his thirst there; as far as i know, it is the only water in tiflis fit for human consumption. every pious lady who visits the shrine carries a stone or brick up the hill with her, and it is from these that the church was built and is still kept in repair. there is another interesting custom in which maidens and matrons alike take part; after adoring the picture of the virgin, the suppliant silently walks round the building three times, unwinding as she goes a reel of thread, fit symbol of the boundlessness of her love and veneration for the immaculate mother of god. then picking up one of the pebbles with which the ground is covered, she rubs it against the plastered wall, and with beating heart waits to see if it will stick--if it does, then her prayer has been heard, the lass will have a sweetheart, the wife will have a son. the church is of modern construction, but its design differs in no respect from the ancient byzantine style, specimens of which may be seen all over georgia. the interior is like that of any other greek church, and on the walls there are some quaint but rather crude pictures. the mass is, of course, in georgian, and the choral service strikes rather strangely on western ears, although not wanting in melody. just below the church is a monument bearing the inscription in russian: "aleksandr sergeyevich griboyedov, born january th, , killed in teheran, january th, . thy mind and thy deeds will never die in the memory of russia, but why did my love outlive thee?" the story of griboyedov's life is a sad but interesting one. by birth, education, and talents he was fitted to become one of the most brilliant members of russian society, but he was early infected with the restless critical spirit of the century, and at the age of seventeen he had already thought out the plot of his great comedy goré ot uma, which is a bitter satire on the fashionable life of his day. in his patriotism led him to join in the national defence, but he never saw active service; like his brother officers he enlivened the monotony of barrack life with the wildest dissipation and folly; for instance, we read that he galloped up two flights of stairs and into a ball-room, that he took advantage of his position as organist in a polish church, to strike up a well-known comical tune in the midst of high mass. but he soon abandoned this unsatisfactory life, went to petersburg in , turned his attention to dramatic literature, and produced some successful pieces. in we find him in persia as secretary to the embassy at tavriz; there he led a solitary life and studied the persian language, he read all the poetical literature of the country, and himself wrote persian lyrics. in he took a year's leave of absence, and employed much of the time in revising his great work; it was his aim to make his verse "as smooth as glass," and he sometimes re-wrote a phrase a dozen times before it pleased him. when it was at length finished, the severe censure prevented its representation, and it was many years after the poet's death before the full text of the play was heard in russia. after taking part in a war against the caucasian mountaineers, the persian war gave him an opportunity of exhibiting a bravery bordering on recklessness, and when erivan had been stormed it was through his skilful diplomacy that russia obtained such favourable terms of peace, although the british minister aided persia with his counsels. in he left petersburg with the rank of ambassador at the persian court. before leaving he expressed to his friends the most gloomy forebodings, he was sure that he would not return to russia alive. at tiflis, however, he found temporary relief from his mournful feelings in the society of nina chavchavadze, daughter of prince alexander chavchavadze, the poet, a lady whom he described as a "very madonna of murillo;" he married her, and she went with him as far as tavriz, he promising to come back to her as soon as possible. he had no sooner reached teheran, than his enemies at the court of the shah began to excite popular feeling against him, and an incident soon occurred which gave some excuse for an attack on the embassy. an armenian prisoner who had risen to the dignity of chief eunuch in the shah's household, and two women, an armenian and a german, from the harem of a powerful personage, fled to the russian ambassador and asked him to assist them to return to russian territory. griboyedov insisted that, according to the treaty of peace, all prisoners had a right to freedom, and he refused to give up the refugees. on the th of january, , a mad, yelling crowd of , men made an attack on the embassy. griboyedov, sword in hand, led out his handful of horsemen and was immediately killed; only one member of the embassy escaped death. it was griboyedov's wish that he should be buried in georgia, and they chose this romantic spot which the poet had loved so much during his stay in tiflis. the beautiful nina remained faithful to her husband's memory, and mourned for him eight-and-twenty years, until she was carried up the winding path to share his grave. the view from the churchyard is a splendid one; the whole city, with its wonderful diversity of form and colour, lies at your feet; on the right you can see far along the kakhetian road, and on the left the great highway to vladikavkaz follows the winding course of the kura. in the evening we often climbed to the top of a bare crag not far from the church, carrying with us a large earthenware flagon of wine, a roast leg of mutton, fruit, cucumbers, and other delicacies, and spreading out our cloaks on the ground lay there making merry, singing and telling tales until long after midnight; the lights of the town below us seemed like a reflection of the bright stars above us, and the music and laughter of many a jovial group came up the hillside to mingle with our own. after descending the hill, we cross the boulevard at the publishing office of kavkaz, the official organ, and skirting the alexandrovskii garden, soon reach the finest bridge in the town, vorontsovskii most, from which we get an interesting view of the waterside part of the asiatic quarter; most of the houses have balconies overhanging the river, and one is involuntarily reminded of the tiber banks at rome. on the other side of the bridge, in a small square, is a statue of prince vorontsov, governor of the caucasus, from to . during my stay the good people of that district were astonished one morning to see the prince's head surmounted by a tall, well-worn sheepskin hat, such as the lesghians wear; the effect was exceedingly ridiculous, and the youthful revellers who, at considerable risk of breaking their necks, were the authors of the joke, were well rewarded for their pains by the laughter of all who passed that way, for your georgian is a merry fellow. turning to the right, we traverse peski, a quarter very different from salalaki. here we see small open-fronted oriental shops in which dark persians ply their trades, making arms, saddlery, jewellery, selling carpets, and doing a hundred other things all before the eyes of men and in the open air. there is a strange confusion of tongues and dresses; a smart little grammar-school girl rubs shoulders with a veiled mussulman woman, and occasionally you see the uniform of a russian officer elbowing his way through a crowd of lesghians, armenians, georgians, persians; through the midst of all this confusion runs the tram-car. we are not beyond all the influences of civilization, for, besides the tram-way, we see on a sign-board the legend "deiches bir" (? deutsches bier), over the picture of a flowing tankard. we cross the narrow bridge and pay a visit to the baths. perhaps the reader knows something of the so-called turkish bath, and imagines that the baths of tiflis are of the same sort? there is certainly some similarity between the two, but there are profound differences; the treatment to which the visitor is subjected at a turkish bath in constantinople is not to be compared with what the persian shampooer puts you through in tiflis. he goes through a whole course of gymnastics with you, during which he jumps on your chest, on the small of your back, doubles you up as if you were a fowl ready for cooking, and, besides removing every particle of your epidermis, performs sundry other experiments at which the novice stares aghast. at the end of it all you make up your mind that it is not so terrible as it looks, and as you feel wonderfully refreshed you resolve to return again before long. the water is of a heat of about ° fahr., and is impregnated with sulphur and other substances which give it a healing virtue; it is to these springs that tiflis owes its existence, and they have always been of much importance in the daily life of the people. formerly it used to be the fashion for ladies of rank to hire baths and dressing-rooms for a whole day, spending the time in perfuming themselves, staining their finger tips, dressing the hair, and performing a dozen other ceremonies of the toilette, concluding with dinner, but the growth of european habits has rendered this custom less common. the cathedral of sion is, as we said before, as old as the city itself, but, of course, it has suffered considerably at the hands of destroyers and restorers. its style is the same as that of all the other churches in georgia, and it doubtless served as a pattern for most of them. the inside has been tastefully decorated in modern times, and produces a pleasing effect, although it seems small to anybody who is familiar with the cathedrals of europe. in front of the altar is the cross of st. nina, formed of two vine branches bound together with the saint's hair; this cross has always been the most sacred relic in georgia. there is also a modest tomb, which contains the body of prince tsitsishvili, a georgian who was appointed governor of the caucasus by alexander i., and who, after a glorious career, was foully murdered outside the walls of baku by the treacherous khan of that city. from the cathedral the way to the european quarter leads through the so-called armenian bazar, one of the most interesting parts of the city. old arms, coats of mail, helmets and shields, such as are still used by the khevsurs up in the mountains, silver ornaments and many other interesting trifles, may be purchased here, but nothing of great value is offered for sale, and the jewellery, with the exception of filigree work from akhaltsikhe (which is hard to get and very expensive) is not very good. on the birthday of the tsarevich, i was walking down to the cathedral in order to be present at high mass, when i saw an incident thoroughly characteristic of the arbitrary proceedings of the russian police. a burly gorodovoi, clad in white uniform and fully armed, was forcing the asiatic shopkeepers in the bazar to close their premises in order to do honour to the son of the autocrat. i remembered how i had seen the turkish soldiery in jerusalem perform a similar task a few months before, when the young prince of naples entered the holy city; it is true that the turks went a step further than the muscovites, for they drove the people out into the main street, and refused to let them go home until the evening, but the idea was the same in both cases. the best native tailor of tiflis lives in this neighbourhood, and i had the honour of having a circassian suit made for me by him; it fitted like a glove. i may say that, although a great many people in tiflis wear european dress, in the country it is almost unknown. i found that for travelling there is nothing better than the circassian garb; it stands a great deal of rough usage, and always looks respectable. mushtaid is the finest promenade in the city. it is situated at the west end, and is approached by the mikhailovskaya, a long, straight street, with fine gardens on either side of it. some of the best restaurants in the city are in these vine-shaded gardens, and one of them is devoted to wrestling matches. it was my good fortune to be present at a famous contest in which the kakhetian champion, grdaneli, fought a certain bold imeretian professor of the fancy art. the performance was highly interesting, and it was gratifying to learn from the bills that the proceeds were to be for the benefit of a young man who wanted to study at petersburg, but had not the necessary means. the inner ring was formed of country gentlemen and officers, all sitting cross-legged on the ground; behind them, tier above tier, were at least a thousand spectators, breathless with expectation. a primitive band, consisting of a drum and a zurna (an instrument which sounds like the bagpipes), played a warlike air, to the sound of which the heroes danced round the arena amid the frantic applause of the crowd. both men were fine fellows, but grdaneli was a very hercules, and withal amiable-looking; he was the favourite, and justified his reputation of being invincible by utterly demolishing the western man in a very short space of time. every incident of the battle called forth from the bystanders loud yells of praise and encouragement which might have been heard miles off. the two best clubs have summer quarters in mikhailovskaya street, by the waterside--the kruzhok (near the vera bridge) and the georgian club (nearer vorontsovskii bridge); both have concert-rooms and gardens attached to them, and the famous dance called lesginka may be seen there with its accompaniment of hand-clapping. the costumes worn by both sexes are picturesque and rich, and one meets people of all nationalities including political exiles from poland, russian officers and officials, german professors and representatives of many other races besides georgians. all arms must be left at the entrance. georgian music is very unlike our own, and at first it strikes the european as loud, wild, discordant, positively unpleasant, but when one is accustomed to it, it is very agreeable. before i had heard many of the national melodies, i was very much astonished when an accomplished lady told me that her reason for preferring the georgian club to the kruzhok was, that at the former asiatic music was performed; but i can now understand her liking for the music of her country. in the appendix i have written down a few melodies which will not, i think, grate harshly on english ears. the beauty of the georgian women has been called in question by some travellers, but these are nearly all men whose acquaintance with the people has been extremely limited. the favourite observation of these critics is a stereotyped phrase about "undeniably good features, but want of animation." surely alexandre dumas the elder knew a beautiful face when he saw it; he says: "la grèce, c'est galatée encore marbre; la géorgie, c'est galatée devenue femme." mushtaid, the town garden, owes nearly all its charms to nature, the walks and open spaces are neatly kept, but nearly the whole area is a forest in the recesses of which we may lie undisturbed for hours, looking down on the turbid waters of kura and listening to the rustling of the leaves above and around. every evening its avenues are crowded with carriages and horsemen; beautiful faces, tasteful toilettes, gay uniforms all combine to form a charming picture. fancy fairs are occasionally held, at which the visitor may mingle with all the social celebrities, lose his money in raffles, buy things he doesn't want--in short enjoy himself just as if he were at home. but i doubt whether many frequenters of bazaars in england have seen such an acrobatic feat as was performed in mushtaid last summer; an individual in tights hung himself by the neck on the upper end of an inclined wire, stretched over the heads of the spectators, and slid down it at lightning speed, firing half a dozen pistol-shots as he went. no week passes without a popular fête of some kind, for the georgians are as fond of gaiety as any nation in the world. from the above brief sketch the reader will see that tiflis is a city where one can live for a long time without suffering from ennui. although the immediate neighbourhood looks bare and uninviting, there are, within a few miles, many beautiful spots well worth a visit. the climate has been much abused by some writers, and it must be admitted that during the months of july and august the heat is very trying, but in my opinion tiflis is a healthy place; since the great plague of ninety years ago it has been pretty free from epidemics, and although fever and dysentery kill a good many people every year, the victims are nearly all residents of low-lying parts of the city, where no european would live if he could help it. during the warm weather there are often storms, characterized by all the grandeur that might be expected in a region of great mountains so near the tropics; after one of these the steep streets become foaming torrents. the sheltered position of the city protects it from the terrible gusts of wind which make the plain to the eastward almost uninhabitable, and the storms seldom cause any more serious damage than broken windows and flooded houses. hitherto all the town water was obtained from the kura, and delivered to the consumer from bullock-skins, but a well has now been dug a little below st. david's, whence the dwellers on the right bank will get a supply of a liquid which is not tepid, not opaque, not evil-smelling, and not semi-solid. the georgian military road between tiflis and vladikavkaz. the part which rivers have played in the history of civilization is well illustrated by this road. the aragva, flowing southward from gudaur, and the terek, running northward from it, have formed the highway along which countless crowds of asiatics have penetrated into europe. between the two streams there is a distance of some ten miles, forming a huge but not insurmountable barrier, the virtual removal of which did not take place until our own times. it was general yermolov who, in , succeeded in making the road practicable for troops of all kinds; but from the poet puskhin's "journey to erzerum" ( ), we learn that there was still room for improvement. the traveller had to go with a convoy of soldiers and a cannon, he dare not lag behind for fear of the mountaineers, provisions and lodgings were scarce and bad, the roads were impassable for carriages, the rate of speed was sometimes only ten miles a day. when we read pushkin's account, and the one given by lermontov, in "a hero of our times," we can only ask ourselves, "what was the road like before yermolov?" during the wars with kasi-mullah and shamil, it became indispensable to effect great improvements, and, at length, about five-and-twenty years ago, under the governorship of prince bariatinskii, the road was finished, and is now one of the finest in the world, besides being one of the highest--the simplon is only feet above sea-level, while the dariel road is nearly feet higher. the total distance from tiflis to vladikavkaz is miles, and the distance can be done comfortably in less than twenty hours. during the summer horses are kept in readiness at the stations, in the winter the number is reduced by about . two stage coaches start from each end every day, but as they run during the night also, much of the beauty of the scenery is lost by those who avail themselves of this mode of conveyance; besides, it is difficult to get an outside seat unless you book it a long time in advance. it is far better to travel by troïka, as you are then free to stop when you like and as long as you like, and you get an uninterrupted view of the country through which you pass. about the middle of june, having previously obtained a formidable-looking document by which alexander alexandrovich, autocrat of all the russias, commanded all postmasters to supply me with horses immediately on demand, i set out on my journey over the frosty caucasus, accompanied by a young russian friend. the troïka had been ordered for four a.m., but, of course, it did not turn up till half-past five. for the information of those who have never been in russia, i may say that a troïka is a team of three horses harnessed abreast in a vehicle of unique construction called a teliezhka. the form of the cart is like a longitudinal section of a beer barrel; it is large enough to contain an ordinary travelling trunk; it is of wood, has neither sides nor springs, and there are four wheels; the seat is made by slipping a piece of rope through a couple of rings on either side, and laying your cloak and a pillow on the rope; the driver sits on the front edge of the cart; the whole affair is invariably in the last stage of decay. the shafts are so long that the horses cannot kick the bottom out of the thing, and the horse in the centre has his head swung up in a wooden frame. the driver is always asleep or drunk, or both, but he never lets the reins fall, and at regular intervals mechanically applies the whip to his steeds; he only wakes up when there is a shaky bridge to cross, and, regardless of the notice "walking pace!", first crosses himself and commends his soul to the saints, then gallops over the creaking structure at racing speed. as we clattered down the steep rocky streets which lead to the boulevard, i had not much time to look round; all my attention was necessary to preserve myself from falling out of the cart, the jolting was terrible. however, by the time we had got to the outskirts of the town the road became much smoother; the driver got down and released the clappers of the bells above the middle horse's head, and we rattled along merrily to the tune of eight miles an hour. just outside the city an imposing cruciform monument marks the spot where the late tsar's carriage was overturned without injuring his majesty. passing the sakartvelo gardens, where the good people of tiflis often dine in vine-covered bowers by the river-side, we cross the vera, an important tributary of the kura, and then enter a broad plain which continues for many miles to the westward. on the other side of the kura we see mushtaid; a little farther on is the pretty german colony of alexandersdorf, with its poplar avenues, neat houses, and modest little white church. all the german colonies in the caucasus seem to be exactly alike, and they do not in any respect differ from german villages in the fatherland; the colonists altogether ignore the people of the country in which they have settled, and, although they make a comfortable livelihood, their isolated condition and the absence of all european influence must make their lives very narrow and joyless. some of these colonies were founded in order to set before the native peasantry examples of good agriculture and farm management, but this worthy object has not been attained, and the teutons are looked upon with feelings generally of indifference, sometimes of positive ill-will. high on the hills behind the colony stands the white monastery of st. antony, a favourite place for picnics. in the cliffs on the left of our road are numerous holes, variously conjectured to be troglodyte dwellings (like those at uphlis tsikhe), rock tombs, places of refuge in time of war, provision stores, &c. before us we see the road winding up between the hills in a northerly direction, and after crossing the transcaucasian railway and then the kura we arrive at the post-house of mtzkhet, not far from the village of that name. mtzkhet, if we are to believe local traditions, is one of the oldest cities on earth, for the story goes that it was founded by a great-grandson of the patriarch noah. be that as it may, there are unmistakable signs that a greek or roman town existed here at a remote date, and antiquaries generally agree in identifying mtzkhet with the acrostopolis of the romans, the headquarters of pompey after he had defeated mithridates and subdued iberia and albania. no better spot could have been chosen, for its position at the junction of the aragva and the kura commands the two great roads of the country and makes it the key of transcaucasia. mtzkhet, the ancient capital of georgia, was always a place of much importance in the annals of the kingdom; now it is a wretched village of some hundreds of inhabitants. it was here that st. nina began her work of converting the nation, and we propose to give a brief account of the legends relating to this event. tradition says that at the beginning of our era there lived in mtzkhet a wealthy jew named eleazar, who frequently made journeys to jerusalem on business. on the occasion of one of these visits he became possessed of the tunic of our lord, which he brought home with him as a present to his daughter. she, expecting a valuable gift, ran out to meet him, and with an angry expression snatched from his hands the precious relic, of which she little knew the worth; she fell dead on the spot, but no force could take the garment from her hands, so it was buried with her, and from her grave there soon grew up a tall cedar, from the bark of which oozed a fragrant myrrh, which healed the sick. now about three centuries later, that is in the third century of our era, st. nina was born in cappadocia. when she was twelve years of age her parents proceeded to jerusalem, and gave themselves up to religious work, leaving the maiden under the care of a devout old woman, who taught her to read the scriptures. nina was very anxious to learn what had become of christ's tunic, and said to her teacher, "tell me, i pray thee, where is that earthly purple of the son of god now kept?" to which the venerable matron replied that it had been taken to a heathen land called iveria, far away to the northward, and that it lay buried there in the city of mtzkhet. one night the blessed virgin appeared to the damsel in a dream, and said to her, "go to the iverian land, preach the gospel of the lord jesus, and he will reward thee. i will be thy guard and guide," and with these words she handed to her a cross made of vine branches. when nina awoke and saw in her hands the wondrous cross she wept for joy, and after reverently kissing the holy gift she bound the two loose sticks together with her own long hair. this cross has always been the palladium of georgia, and is still preserved in the sion cathedral at tiflis. now it so happened that at this time seven-and-thirty maidens, fleeing from the persecutions of diocletian, left jerusalem to spread the good tidings in armenia; st. nina went with them as far as vashgarabada, and then pursued her journey alone. as she was entering the city of mtzkhet, the king of georgia, marian, with all his people, went out to a hill in the neighbourhood to offer human sacrifices to idols, but in answer to her prayer a mighty storm arose and destroyed the images. she took up her abode in a cell in the king's garden, and soon became well-known as a healer of the sick. at length the queen fell ill, and st. nina, having made her whole in the name of jesus, converted the georgian court to christianity, and in a.d. baptized all the people of the city. over the spot in the royal garden where her cell had been, the king built the samtavr church, which still exists, and lies to the left of the post-road. it was then revealed to st. nina that the tunic, the object of her search, lay buried under a cedar in the middle of the town; the tree was cut down and the robe was found in the hands of the dead girl. on the spot where the cedar stood king marian built, in , the cathedral of the twelve apostles; the cedar was replaced by a column, and this column is said to drip myrrh occasionally, even in these degenerate days of ours. the sacred garment was preserved in the cathedral until the seventeenth century, when shah abbas sent it as a present to the tsar of russia, mikhail fedorovich. it was solemnly deposited in the cathedral of the assumption at moscow, where i saw it last autumn. having evangelized kartli, st. nina proceeded to kakheti, where she met with the same success, and died at bodbé, near signakh; her tomb is in a monastery overlooking one of the finest landscapes in all kakheti. the cathedral of the twelve apostles is the chief place of interest in mtzkhet. the original church was of wood, but in it was replaced by a stone edifice, which stood until the invasion of tamerlane. the existing church was built in the fifteenth century. a stone wall, with ruined towers, encloses a rectangular piece of ground, in which stands the cathedral, a fine building about seventy paces long by twenty-five paces broad. it is in the byzantine style, and the interior is divided into three parts by two rows of columns. here lie buried the last kings of georgia and their families, the patriarchs of the church, and other illustrious persons. the post-house at mtzkhet was a pleasant surprise to me, but i found nearly all the stations on this road equally comfortable; in many of them there are bed-rooms, a dining-room, a ladies' room, and one can get white bread and european food. those who have travelled on post-roads in russia will readily understand my surprise. leaving mtzkhet, our road follows the aragva along a smooth valley between forest-clad hills; the scenery reminded me very much of some of the dales of thelemarken in norway. the soil is rich and well cultivated, and here, as elsewhere, we saw a whole herd of oxen dragging one wooden plough. this valley is one of the most feverish places on the whole road, and the people attribute this to a yellow weed (carlina arcaulis), of which there is a great abundance; strange to say, other places where the plant flourishes have the same unpleasant reputation for unhealthiness, the explanation is doubtless to be found in the fact that this weed grows best in a damp soil. tsilkani is the next station, but there is no village there. while waiting for horses we saw in the yard a camel; there are plenty of these amiable animals in tiflis, but i did not think they went so far north as the aragva. the scenery continues to be of the same character as far as the station of dushet, some distance from the garrison-town of that name, which lies in rectangular regularity on the hillside, like a relief map; it is a place of some military importance on account of its position at the entrance of the narrow part of the valley, but it is as uninteresting as any russian provincial town. near it is a lake, said to cover a caucasian sodom; the traveller looks at the lake with more attention than he would bestow upon it if it were in switzerland, for lakes, like waterfalls, are very rare in the caucasus. soon after leaving dushet we climb a rather steep hill--the wilder part of the road is about to begin. on our left is a huge, antique-looking edifice with towers and battlements, which we feel sure has a romantic history, but we are disappointed to learn that the place is only a modern imitation. at a pretty spot on the river-bank near here i met on my return a party of about fifty prisoners on their way to siberia; they were, as a rule, honest enough looking fellows, and i could not help feeling pity for them when i remembered how many cases i knew of in which innocent men had been ruined in mind and body, by exile for crimes with which they had no connection. the road crosses a range of green hills, and passing through scenery very like that of kakheti, descends to the aragva again at ananur, the most picturesque village on the whole road, although the surrounding landscape is tame compared with that to the northward. ananur lies in a pretty little valley, amid well-wooded hills. at the southern end of the village, perched on a rising ground, is a partly ruined wall with towers and battlements, within which are two churches, one of them still used for divine service, the other a mouldering heap of moss-grown stones. the post-house is at the farther end of the village, and while the horses are being changed we have time to return to the ruins, about a quarter of an hour's walk; by the roadside are several little shops in which furs of all the wild animals of the country may be bought for a trifle; there is also a small barrack. we now climb up to the citadel, and as we enter we cannot help thinking of some of the scenes of blood which have taken place here, even as late as a century and a half ago, when giorgi, the eristav (or headman) of aragva, defended the castle against the eristav of ksan. when the place had been taken and all the garrison slain, giorgi and his family fled to the old church, thinking that no christian would violate the right of sanctuary, but the conqueror heaped up brushwood round the building and burnt it down; only one of the ill-fated family escaped alive. the door by which we are admitted lies on the side farthest removed from the road; it leads us through a square tower into the citadel proper, which occupied a piece of ground about one hundred paces long and forty paces broad; formerly it used to stretch down to the very bank of the river, where a ruined tower may still be seen. on entering we see immediately on the left the ruined house of the eristav giorgi; straight in front of us is a well-preserved tower, on the left of which may be seen the ruins of the old church, on the right is the modern church. the old church is, of course, quite ruined; it is only about five-and-twenty paces in length by fifteen paces broad. there still exist fragments of painting and carving which would doubtless prove highly interesting to those who are acquainted with the history of byzantine art. the building is said to date from the fourth century. there is also a small underground chapel which is fairly well preserved. the larger church was built by the eristav giorgi in ; it is thirty paces long by twenty paces broad, and is an enlarged copy of the older sanctuary; the stone of which it is built is yellowish. it is a very fine specimen of georgian architecture. beautifully carved in the stone, on each side of the building, is a gigantic cross of vine branches (the cross of st. nina). the decorative work is excellent throughout, both in design and workmanship; but the figures of animals, &c., are very poor indeed. ananur is connected with the darkest page in the mournful latter-day history of georgia. the persians had taken tiflis in , and reduced it to a smouldering heap of ruins. king irakli, with a few servants, had escaped almost by a miracle, and had taken refuge in the mountain fastness of ananur; abandoned by his cowardly, faithless children, betrayed by his most trusted dependents and allies, sick in body and weary in mind, the old man of seventy-seven was a sight sad enough to make angels weep. "in the old, half ruined monastery of ananur, in an ancient cell which used to stand in the corner of the monks' orchard, one might have seen a man dressed in a rough sheepskin cloak, sitting with his face turned to the wall. that man, once the thunderbolt of all transcaucasia, was the king of georgia, irakli ii. near him stood an old armenian servant. 'who is that sitting in the corner?' asked those who passed by. 'he whom thou seest,' replied the armenian, with a sigh, 'was once a man of might, and his name was honoured throughout asia. his people never had a better ruler. he strove for their welfare like a father, and for forty years kept his empire together; but old age has weakened him, and has brought everything to ruin. in order to prevent quarrels after his death, he determined to divide his kingdom among his children while he still lived, but his hopes in them were deceived. he who was chief eunuch of tamas khuli khan when irakli was a leader of the persian army, now marched against him in his feeble old age. his own children refused to help him and their native land, for there were many of them, and each thought he would be striving, not for himself, but for his brother's good. the king of georgia had to ask the help of the king of imereti, but if thou hadst been in tiflis thou hadst seen how shamefully the imeretians behaved. irakli, with but a handful of men, fought gallantly against a hundred thousand, and lost his throne only because his children pitilessly forsook him, leaving him to be defeated by a wretched gelding. his ancient glory is darkened, his capital in ruins, the weal of his folk is fled. under yon crumbling wall thou seest the mighty king of georgia hiding from the gaze of all men, helpless and clothed in a ragged sheepskin! his courtiers, all those who have eaten his bread and been pressed to his bosom, have left him; not one of them has followed his master, excepting only me--a poor, despised armenian.'" from ananur the road rises along the aragva valley, which is well cultivated, thanks to a fine system of artificial irrigation. on our left, about a couple of versts from the station, we see high up on a hill the ruined castle and church of sheupoval, where a grandson of the eristav giorgi shared the fate of the rest of his family; the place was burnt down with all its inhabitants. as we pass along the road we meet several pleasant-looking wayfarers, all armed with long, wide dagger, and many carrying in addition sword and rifle; this highway is, however, perfectly safe as far as brigands are concerned, the carrying of weapons is merely a custom which means little more than the use of a walking-stick in our country. several handsome ossets, as they pass, courteously salute us with the phrase, "may your path be smooth!" a peculiarly appropriate wish in such a region. when we go through a little village, pretty children run out to look at us, but they never beg, indeed i never saw or heard of a georgian beggar, although there is much poverty among the people. all along the road, wherever there is a coign of vantage one sees it topped by the ruins of a four-sided tapering tower, standing in the corner of a square enclosure; every foot of ground has its history of bloodshed and bravery, a history now long forgotten, save for the dim traditions of the peasantry. the stage between ananur and pasanaur ( versts), is the longest on the whole road, and, although it presents no engineering difficulties such as those which were met with farther to the northward, it is, nevertheless, a toilsome journey for the horses, as it rises about feet. i shall never forget the pleasant emotions i felt on making the night journey from pasanaur to ananur; although there was no moon, the stars shone with a brightness that is unknown in northern latitudes, and lighted up the strange, beautiful landscape; the glittering snow-peaks behind, the silvery stream at our side, the green forests and the lonely ruins made up a picture of surpassing loveliness and weirdness. fort gudomakarsk is soon visible, and we know that the station is not far off. i may as well say that almost all the so-called forts between tiflis and vladikavkaz are insignificant, neglected-looking places, merely small barracks; they formerly served to keep the mountaineers in order, but now there is really very little necessity for maintaining a garrison in them. pasanaur (which in old persian means "holy hill") is situated in a very narrow part of the valley, amid thick woods. the station is a pretty one, and, like that at ananur, so comfortable that the traveller who has to spend a night there need not be pitied. the only building of interest in the village is a modern church in the russian style of architecture, which looks as if it had been painted with laundry blue; for ugliness it can compare with any church in muscovy. to the eastward of pasanaur live the khevsurs, pshavs and tushes, peoples probably having a common origin, and speaking a language akin to georgian. their number is variously estimated, from twenty to thirty thousand. they live in a very primitive way, and the khevsurs still clothe themselves in chain armour and helmets; this circumstance, added to the fact that they have long been christians, has given rise to the supposition that they are descended from a party of crusaders who lost their way in trying to return to europe overland, and settled in these valleys. their country is among the wildest in the whole range, and their villages are perched high up among the rocks, like eagles' nests. the khevsurs live chiefly on the scanty products of agriculture; the pshavs and tushes are pastoral peoples, in winter they drive their flocks down into kakheti, and when the snow among the mountains begins to melt they return to their native valleys. all these tribes are wild and brave to the highest degree; from the earliest times they have formed part of the georgian kingdom, and have distinguished themselves in many a battle against the infidel. the christianity of this region is not so elaborate as that of rome or byzantium, but i suppose it is quite as reasonable as that of the russian muzhik or the english farm-labourer; they have made a saint of queen tamara, and they worship the god of war and several other deities in addition to the god christ. irakli ii. tried to reform their theology, but they replied, "if we, with our present worship, are firm in our obedience and loyalty to the king, what more does he ask of us?" there are now many orthodox greek churches in the villages, but the people totally ignore their existence. after leaving pasanaur the road bends to the westward, leaving on the right a high table-shaped mountain of granite which has for a long time seemed to bar our progress; we still keep close to the aragva, and the scenery becomes bolder, and the soil more barren; here and there we see high up on the face of the rock a cluster of osset houses; from the valley they look like small dark holes in the cliffs. pushkin has described them as "swallows' nests," and no happier name could have been chosen. the ossets call themselves ir or iran, the tatars and georgians call them oss or ossi. according to official accounts they number over , , about half of them being on each side of the caucasus. the majority of them profess the christian religion, but , are mahometans, and a considerable number are idolaters. their traditions say that they came from asia across the ural, and used at one time to dwell in the plain to the north of the caucasus, but were gradually driven into the mountains by stronger peoples. in the reign of queen tamara most of them embraced christianity, and tamara's second husband was an osset; they remained tributary to georgia until the beginning of the present century, and a traveller who visited tiflis about a hundred years ago says that irakli's bodyguard was composed of ossets "who never washed." the ossets were the first caucasian people to settle down quietly to russian rule, and they have never given any serious trouble, if we except their share in the imeretian rising of . the stories about the ossets being a teutonic people are as absurd as the assertion that there are in the crimea northmen who speak dutch. they live in a wretched manner, in houses built of loose stones, without mortar; but their physique is good, and their faces are handsome and engaging. after another long climb of feet we reach mleti. here, indeed, we have come to the end of the valley--we are at the bottom of a deep well with sides as bare and steep as walls, on the top glitters the everlasting snow. the engineering difficulties which we have hitherto encountered are as nothing compared with those before us. to our right rises a precipice over three thousand feet high, up which the road climbs in a series of zigzags. soon after leaving mleti we saw the sun set behind the silvery peaks to the west, and within half an hour it was dark; our driver was drunk and fast asleep, and we had occasionally to seize the reins in order to keep the horses from going too near the fenceless edge of the abyss. the distance to gudaur is only fourteen and a half versts, but nearly the whole ascent has to be done at walking pace; slowly we rose up the hillside, gazing silently now up at the glistening chain above us, now down into the gloomy valley behind us, where a fleecy waterfall shone in the starlight; we saw no wayfarers all the time, and no sound came to break the stillness of the summer night. at last we reached the tableland at the top, and were soon in the station-house of gudaur, almost feet above sea-level. although there were only patches of snow here and there on the ground near us, the air was very cool; only a few days ago we had been simmering in tiflis in a heat of over ° fahr., and now we saw the thermometer down at freezing-point. i knew that as far as comfort went mleti was a much better place than gudaur to spend the night at, but i was eager to enjoy the delightful intoxication of the mountain air as soon and as long as possible, and i did enjoy it thoroughly. after a very rough and hasty supper and a short walk on the edge of the plateau, we entered the common room, and wrapping ourselves up in our burkas, sought out the softest plank on the floor, and were soon sleeping the sleep of innocence. several travellers arrived during the night, for when we rose at dawn we found the room full. leaving our companions to snore in peace, we ordered the horses, and were soon on our way to the pass. on the grassy plain were feeding large flocks of goats and sheep, the latter with strange, large, fatty protuberances on either side of the tail. to the right is a remarkable-looking green hill of pyramidal shape, and beyond it an old castle looks down from an inaccessible crag. the scenery of the pass itself is imposing, but it is seen to better advantage when one comes in the opposite direction, i.e. from vladikavkaz to tiflis; in that case one leaves a scene of the wildest desolation for the luxuriant beauty of the aragva valley and kartli; on the northward journey it is, of course, the reverse. the road sinks very rapidly to a depth of almost feet; the long snow-sheds remind us that even at the present day a winter journey over the cross mountain is a serious undertaking; traffic is often stopped for several days at a time by avalanches, and in spring the rivers sometimes wash away the bridges and large pieces of the road. at the foot of the mountain we meet the foaming terek, a river almost as muddy as the kura, and following its course reach a vast plain, on the east side of which stands kobi. near kobi station there are two villages; the larger of the two lies under the shadow of a perpendicular rock on the one side, on the other side it is flanked by a rugged crag, on the top of which may be seen the ruins of a church and a castle. by the roadside are curious monumental tablets, painted with hieroglyphs of various kinds, among which the rising sun generally occupies the chief place. all round kobi there are numerous medicinal springs of all kinds, and the station-house is intended to accommodate a few patients. there may come a day when kobi will be as fashionable as kissingen, but in the meantime it is not the sort of place that one would recommend to an invalid. on the score of originality nothing can be said against the environs of kobi; when we looked round we could not help thinking of the phrase "riddlings of creation," which we have heard applied to the scottish highlands; it does, indeed, look as if some of the materials left over after the creation of our earth, had been left here in disordered heaps, to give us some idea of chaos. the road now follows the course of the terek, and the scenery is indescribably grand; straight before us lies snowy kazbek in all its rugged wildness, here and there are ruined towers, and about the middle of the stage a turn in the road brings us to an aul, or village, of mediæval appearance, by the side of which is a little copse, a rarity in this bleak district. the basaltic rocks present many fantastic shapes and colours to the eye; in several places i saw what looked like huge bundles of rods, reminding me of the giant's causeway. before reaching the station we were met by children who offered for sale all sorts of crystals, pieces of quartz and other pretty geological specimens. kazbek station is a very comfortable inn, where one can dine well, and is to be recommended as a place for a prolonged stay. the mountain, generally called kazbek, rises from the valley in one almost unbroken mass, reaching a height of , feet above sea-level; the georgians call it mkhinvari (ice mountain), and the ossets, christ's peak; kazbek is really the name of the family who own this part of the country, and is wrongly applied to the mountain. this peak, like ararat, enjoys the reputation of being inaccessible, and our countrymen, freshfield, moore, and tucker, who climbed to the top, without much difficulty, in june, , were not believed when they told the story of their ascent. on the mountain the sportsman can occasionally get a shot at a tur (aurochs, Ægoceros pallasii); but if he is unwilling to expose himself to the necessary danger and fatigue, he can for a few roubles buy a pair of horns at the station. those who invade the realm of the mountain spirit should not fail to visit devdorak glacier, the easiest way of making the ascent; there they will see a place where the native hunters make sacrifices of tur horns to propitiate the spirit, who might otherwise throw blocks of ice down on their heads. there is a popular legend to the effect that on the summit of mkhinvari is the tent of the patriarch abraham, within which, in a cradle held up by an unseen hand, lies the child jesus asleep; outside there grows some wheat of wonderful size, beside the tree of life; round the cradle are heaps of treasures. under the reign of king irakli ii., a priest and his son started for the summit in order to see these wonders; the boy returned alone, bearing samples of the material of the tent, some big grains of wheat, &c., the soles of his boots were covered with silver coins which had stuck to them--unfortunately it was found that the coins were quite modern! as is well known, mkhinvari is generally identified with the story of prometheus, although the mountain does not correspond with the description given by Æschylus. early travellers even went so far as to assert that they had seen the very chains with which the hero was bound, and there is a local legend to the effect that a giant still lies there in fetters. when i approached the mountain from kobi i could not help being reminded of prometheus. i saw a gigantic black space of irregular form with snow all round it; an imaginative mind found in this irregular tract a considerable resemblance to the human shape. no traveller should leave kazbek without making a pilgrimage to the monastery of st. stephen, which stands on the top of an isolated hill about feet above the station. at sunset the view is wonderfully beautiful. tradition says that the monastery was built by three kings, but does not give their names; in any case the building is of considerable antiquity. service is held in the church three times a year. the interior has been spoiled by that fiend the "restorer." from the church you look over a wide, uninhabited valley to the giant mountain, and on turning round you see the river terek, on the banks of which are the station and village; on either hand stretch dark cavernous-looking valleys. beyond the terek is the home of the ingushes, a people who frequently carry off the cattle of their more settled neighbours, and give the small garrison of kazbek some amusement in hunting them down. after leaving kazbek, we see on our right the manor-house of the princely family from which the place takes its name, a family which has produced, and doubtless will yet produce, sons which will be an honour to georgia; the house is a fine two-storey edifice, and there is a pretty chapel attached to it. in a few minutes we reach the mad ravine, so called from a torrent of terrible impetuosity, which has formed one of the most serious obstacles to the construction of the road. we now enter dariel, the pass from which the road takes its name, one of the grandest spots on earth. according to philologists, dariel is derived from an old persian word meaning gate (cf. der-bend, thuer, door, slav dver, &c.), and in fact it was here that the ancient geographers placed the site of the famous caucasian gates; but surely there is something to be said in favour of the local tradition which connects the place with darius i. of persia. as for the gates, it is, of course, impossible to say definitely whether they ever existed or not, at all events there are several points where it would not have been very difficult to construct them. at the entrance of the ravine, on the left bank of the terek, stands a high rock, on which may be seen the ruins of a castle, said to have been founded in b.c., but doubtless having a still longer history. this castle is always associated with the name of a certain wicked queen tamara, a mythical creation of the popular fancy, and lermontov has written a very pretty poem based on the legend. it is said that this tamara (not to be confounded with the good tamara), was very beautiful, and that she used to invite all the handsome young men who passed that way to come up and live with her, promising them all the delights that heart could wish for; after one night of bliss the unfortunate gentleman was deprived of his head, and was then thrown down into the terek, which bore away his body. if the legend is not wrong in saying that the river carried away the corpses, the frolicsome monarch must have been comparatively constant during the summer months, or else the pile of wantons would soon have become large enough to frighten all the passion out of intending visitors, for in the month of june, terek would not float a respectably-sized cat. by the road-side is dariel fort, a romantic-looking place with old-fashioned battlemented towers; a few kazaks are quartered here, and must find the time hang very heavily on their hands. when you reach this fort it looks as if it were impossible to go beyond it, a mighty wall stretches right across the path; but the road follows the course of the river, indeed it is built in the river-bed, and winds along between awful cliffs whose summits are lost in the clouds, and whose flanks are seldom or never touched by a ray of sunlight. we sometimes hear of places where a handful of men could keep back an army, this is one of them; a touch would send down upon the road some of the heavy, overhanging masses of rock, and effectually close the pass. about fifty years ago an avalanche fell here, from the glacier of devdorak, and it was two years before the rubbish was all cleared away. when the new road is blocked by snow or carried away by floods, the old road, high up near the snow-line, has to be used. the scenery of this pass has been described by pushkin, lermontov, and many others, but it is one of the few places that do not disappoint the traveller, however much he may have expected. it must not be forgotten that the road through this narrow gorge is the only passable one that crosses the caucasian range; there are, it is true, one or two other tracks, but they are not practicable for wheeled carriages. in the most gloomy part of the defile the road crosses by a bridge to the left bank of the terek, and a few versts farther on we emerge into comparatively open ground at lars. i had, as usual, given my podorozhnaia (road-pass) to a stable-boy, with a request to get the horses ready without delay, and was sitting drinking tea, when i was astonished to hear behind me the long unfamiliar tones of my native language; i was still more surprised when i saw that the speaker was the starosta, or superintendent of the station (the government inspector, or smatritel, is the real chief). he told me that he had seen from my pass that i was english, and had taken the liberty to come and have a chat with me. he spoke english fluently, and has spent five years in london, has travelled in the united states, and is altogether a very pleasant fellow; he had only been at lars a year and a half, and during all that time had not seen an englishman. we parted very good friends, expecting to meet again when i returned from vladikavkaz. the village of lars, north of the post-house, is inhabited, among others, by some of the tagaur ossets, descended from tagaur, an individual who at a remote period was heir to the armenian throne, and fled to the mountains for fear of his younger brothers. their royal descent leads them to think themselves superior to the poor folk among whom they dwell, and they are cordially disliked by the latter. just outside the village is one of the towers which are so common all along the road; it doubtless yielded a handsome revenue to its owner in the good old days when every traveller had to pay a heavy toll for the privilege of passing one of these fortresses. we still keep close to the terek, which comes rushing down from dariel with a fall of one foot in every thirty. pushkin, comparing the terek with imatra, in finland, unhesitatingly declares the superiority of the former in grandeur. of course the surrounding scenery in the two cases is quite different, but as far as the rivers themselves are concerned, i must dissent from the poet, for i know no part of the terek worthy of comparison with the fall of the wuokses at imatra, which is the very materialization of the idea of irresistible, pitiless power. although the valley is now a little wider than it was a few miles to the south, the scenery still has the same grandeur and sternness until we pass between the rocks that come down close to either bank of the river, and come out into the plain in which stands fort djerakhovsk, a rectangular edifice, about feet long, which is fully garrisoned. we are not quite clear of the mountains, however, until we have passed balta, and have got within five versts of vladikavkaz. before us stretches a smooth, green plain as far as the eye can reach; the contrast is most striking; it is as if we had been suddenly transported from switzerland to holland. vladikavkaz, versts from tiflis, lies at the foot of the caucasus, at a height of feet. the best hotel is the pochtovaya, at the post-station; the frantsiya is also good. vladikavkaz means, in russian, "master of the caucasus" (cf. vladivostok, vladimir, &c.--root vlad is akin to german walt-en, gewalt); the cherkesses (circassians) call it kapkai, "gate of the mountains." it has a population of over , souls, chiefly russians, cherkesses, georgians, armenians, persians, besides a strong garrison. a fortress was built here in , but the town never became a trading centre of much importance until the war with shamil; even now one is astonished to see how little activity them is in a place through which nearly all the overland traffic between europe and western asia passes. several chimney stalks bear witness to the existence of industry, but the only manufactory of any size is a spirit distillery. the silver work of vladikavkaz is renowned throughout the whole caucasus, and is much used for dagger hilts and sheaths, belts, &c. the city is built on the banks of the terek, which is here crossed by several bridges; the best quarter is on the right bank, where there are cool, shady gardens by the waterside, and a very respectable-looking boulevard. a few of the streets are fairly well paved, and there are one or two comfortable-looking houses with pleasant grounds; but on the whole the place is not one that anybody would care to settle down in. were it not for the frequency with which one sees asiatic costumes, and hears asiatic tongues, and the fact that the frosty caucasus may be seen, apparently perpendicular, rising to its loftiest points, it would be easy to imagine oneself in some provincial town not versts from moscow, instead of being versts from it. when you have lounged in the gardens, and on the boulevard, visited the cathedral, which is still in course of construction, the market, the military school, and the old fortress, you have obtained all the diversion that is to be had in vladikavkaz, unless you are fortunate enough to find the little theatre open, and the best thing to be done is to take the morning train to the mineral waters station ( versts in nine hours) for the town called five mountains (pyatigorsk), about twenty versts from the railway, which for almost a hundred years has enjoyed the reputation of being the most fashionable inland watering-place in the russian empire. the kakhetian road--tiflis to signakh. a few days after my return from vladikavkaz, i made preparations for leaving tiflis. it was near the end of june, and the unbearable heat had driven away nearly all those who were free to go; all the highways leading out of the city were crowded with carts and carriages of every description, carrying household goods and passengers. my friends had contracted with some molokans (russian heretics), belonging to the colony of azamburi, for the removal of their furniture to signakh; the carriers had promised to come to our house at four o'clock in the morning, but it was nine o'clock before they put in an appearance, and then their carts were half full of other people's goods, a direct violation of the agreement. if any man ever needed the patience which is proverbially ascribed to the patriarch job, it is the man who has business dealings with the muscovite muzhik. you may assail him with all the abuse which your knowledge of his language will permit, you may strike him, you may calmly endeavour to persuade him with the most lucid logic--it is all to no purpose; taking off his cap to scratch his head, he looks at you with an assumption of childlike simplicity, and replies with a proverb more remarkable for its laconism than for its applicability to the matter under discussion. in this case we wrangled for a long time, and then, being unwilling to risk a stroke of apoplexy by getting into a rage, appealed to the majesty of the law, represented by a stalwart policeman, at whose command the carts were emptied forthwith, the contents being deposited on the roadside, and our effects were soon put in their place, and the whole caravan rattled down the hillside about two hours before noon. an hour later a four-horse carriage with springs arrived, and the four of us, my georgian host, a russian lady and gentleman, and myself, set out for kakheti. after descending through the narrow streets which lie between the erivan square and the river, we crossed the busy bridge, and mounted the steep bank on the other side, passing through the liveliest part of the persian quarter. by the time we had got clear of the suburb called the dogs' village, with its camels and caravanserais, we had overtaken the waggons; exchanging friendly salutations with our volunteer baggage-guard, we were soon rolling along the smooth, dusty road in the direction of orkhevi. on our right, down by the side of the kura, lay naftluk, with its beautiful vineyards and orchards, and beyond it the road to akstafa and erivan; on the distant southern horizon were the blue mountains of armenia. on our left hand rose a range of bare-looking hills of no great height. the region through which the kakhetian road passes is a flat, waterless, almost uninhabited steppe; the winds which sometimes sweep across it are so violent that it is the custom to seek shelter from them by building the houses in the ground, with the roof on a level with the road. twenty years ago the "society for the re-establishment of orthodox christianity in the caucasus" obtained from the late tsar a large concession of land near kara yazi, and spent , roubles on the construction of a canal for irrigation (mariinskii kanal); the scheme was never completely carried out, and the results obtained have not hitherto been such as to encourage the society, although a few nestorians, assyrian christians, have been induced to settle in this unhealthy land. there are still unmistakable signs of the fact that in ancient times all this steppe was watered from the kura by an elaborate system of irrigation, which must have made the country very fertile; now the whole tract is an almost unbroken wilderness, where the antelope wanders, unharmed by any hunter. at orkhevi there is nothing but the station-house, and those whose only experience of posting has been derived from the military road between tiflis and vladikavkaz, are likely to be unpleasantly surprised at the primitive appearance of this traveller's rest. a bare, dirty room, with two wooden benches and a table, the walls tastefully decorated with official notices, among which the most prominent is one in four languages warning farmers against the phylloxera, thereon portrayed in all the various phases of its development. such is my remembrance of orkhevi. the only refreshment obtainable is a samovar (tea-urn) of boiling water, from which you can make your own tea if you have the necessary ingredients with you. a former journey along this road had already made me familiar with all the little discomforts and privations which must be undergone by the visitor to kakheti, so i was not disappointed. none of the stations are any better all the way to signakh, and he who does not bring with him his own food for the journey is likely to have a very good appetite by the time he reaches his destination. the sun had now reached the meridian, and beat down upon us with terrible force, for our carriage was an open one; we were half-choked with the dust, a thick white layer of which covered us from head to foot; on either side lay bare, brown fields, baked hard as stone, and deeply fissured; no water anywhere; the only thing which broke the monotony of the scene was the occasional passage of a train of arbas, laden with huge, bloated-looking ox-skins, full of wine. the arba is the national vehicle of georgia, and is said to have been used as a chariot by the ancient kings; it is constructed entirely of wood; there is not so much as a nail or pin of metal in it; the wheels are generally made of one piece of timber, and for this reason the arba is allowed to travel on the highways without paying the tolls which are imposed on carts with tires; a pair of oxen draw the cart, and the creaking of it may be heard afar off. parched with thirst, and almost stifled with dust, we were glad to reach vaziani, where we spread our cloaks under an oak-tree by the side of a spring, and proceeded to make a good lunch, after which we slept for a while. in the afternoon we left vaziani, and soon passed through the prosperous german colony of marienfeld, with its neat, homely cottages, shaded by fine poplar-trees. the vicinity of the river iora makes this a very fertile spot, cool and inviting even in the middle of summer. a little before reaching marienfeld we saw, on the left, the road to telav, and the kakhetian hills now seem to slope down very quickly to meet our road, but we know that we shall have to travel many a weary verst before we reach them. in the evening, at about six o'clock, we arrived at azamburi, a russian village not far from the station of sartachali. it had been agreed that we should spend the night here, so we alighted at the postoyalii dvor, or inn. azamburi is exactly like any other russian village, a long, dirty, double row of wretched hovels. each farmer has his house and buildings arranged round a square courtyard, in the midst of which lie carts, pigs, agricultural produce, and filth of all kinds. the inhabitants are molokans; some account of the religious opinions of these people will be found in mr. d. m. wallace's well-known work on russia; they have no priests nor sacraments, neither smoke nor drink, do not swear, and pay great reverence to the bible, a copy of which may be seen on a shelf in the living-room of every house. they are not at all attractive, either in physiognomy or conversation; their awful stupidity and ugliness are all the more powerfully felt from the contrast which the native population presents to them. their choice of a piece of ground for colonization would be inexplicable did we not remember their peculiar religious convictions; they have chosen the very worst place in the whole plain; the only drinking water in the neighbourhood is very bad, so bad that the tea made from it is almost undrinkable, even by people accustomed to kura water. quite near the village are stinking, stagnant marshes, which must make the place terribly unhealthy. after dinner we went outside to smoke, for the molokan will not suffer the mildest cigarette in his house, and even in the depth of winter the visitor who smokes must burn his weed in the open air. returning along the road for some little distance, followed by a crowd of children, who, evidently, had never before seen a lady in european dress, we mounted a little hill, whence we saw in the distance our baggage-waggons slowly approaching. in re-entering the village we overtook a farmer with an english reaping-machine; this man was less taciturn than his neighbours, and of his own accord entered into conversation with us; he was loud in his praises of the reaper, and said that the man who invented a certain part of it (a patent screw, i think) ought to be "kissed behind the ear." we tried to interest him in a pet idea of our own, viz., that village communities should buy machinery collectively, but we regret to say that we could not make a convert of him. it was nine o'clock before our young friend, prince giorgi, arrived with the goods under his charge; and while we were at supper much merriment was caused by his vain endeavours to check himself in the use of the word chort (the devil!), a pet expression of his, but strictly forbidden in the houses of all good molokans. the night being fine, although the air was cool, we made up our minds to sleep outside rather than risk the onslaughts of the molokan fleas, and we chose for our bivouac a thrashing-floor about a hundred yards from the house; here we lay down, wrapped in our burkas, and smoked and chatted until we fell asleep. but we were not to have a quiet night; we were roused by the attack of some ferocious dogs; we beat them off several times, but the numbers ever increased, until all the canine population of azamburi was howling round us. we were on foot at three o'clock, and, waking up the drivers, got the horses harnessed and started for kakabeti. in the early morning air flitted beautiful birds with wings as brilliant as those of butterflies, and butterflies as big as birds. it was not so terribly hot as i had found it some weeks before, when i passed through kakabeti in the afternoon, but it was still close enough to make us long for a breath of the mountain air. this region is swampy, and the fevers make it uninhabitable. kakabeti offers nothing of interest. the same wearisome plain stretches all the way to kajereti, near which is the hospitable abode of one of the andronikov family. we spent four hours there, and did not leave the station until an hour after noon. passing the inviting-looking post-road to bakurtsikhe, on our left, we kept to the plain for a while; then rapidly rising to the village of nukriani, signakh came into view at the top of the hill, and the lovely woodlands at our feet seemed all the more beautiful on account of the bare, monotonous character of the parched plain where we had spent the last two days. descending by a zigzag road, we entered the town, and, passing along the main street, through the market-place, soon reached the very edge of the steep, high hill which rises from the alazana valley. signakh. our new home turned out to be a very delightful place,--large, lofty rooms, two balconies; at the back, vineyards and gardens stretching far down the hillside. the view was more beautiful than any i had ever seen or imagined. the house was built on the edge of a deep, narrow ravine, the steep sides of which were covered with vines and mulberry-trees all the way down to the alazana valley, a smooth, fertile plain thirty miles broad. on the opposite side of the ravine, to the left, stood a very extensive fortification with ruined towers, a stronghold of some importance during the war with shamil; behind this could be seen the armenian church and the outskirts of the town. straight in front lay the grand caucasian mountains, rising like a wait from the plain, their glittering snow-clad tops dividing the dark forests on their flanks from the deep blue of the summer sky. in the midst of the plain flowed the silvery alazana, in its winding course dividing the cultivated land on this side from the virgin forest beyond. along the nearer edge lay scattered hamlets with their neat little white churches; farther off might be seen a wood, which we always thought of as that of the sleeping beauty. from the heights of signakh it does not look large, but it is six miles in diameter, and the underwood is so thick that it can only be penetrated by cutting a path with axes; it is full of all sorts of wild beasts and dangerous reptiles. in the distance on the left may be seen the mountains on which telav is situated; to the extreme right a few huts on the river bank indicate the position of the alazana bridge, and beyond this begins the long sandy steppe which stretches in unbroken barrenness to the caspian. signakh is versts to the eastward of tiflis, and stands about feet above the plain of the alazana. the population is over , , the majority being armenian shop-keepers, usurers, &c. the name signifies "city of refuge," and the place was founded and fortified in the last century, in order to serve as a retreat for the country people in times of lesghian raids. the fortress consists of a very large piece of ground enclosed by high walls, with towers at regular intervals, and the whole city used to be within these walls. the post-road to bakurtsikhe runs through the stronghold, and about sunset all the wealth and beauty of signakh may be seen promenading on the highway, for this is "the boulevard;" on sunday afternoon wrestling goes on merrily to the sound of the pipe and drum. at present the military importance of signakh is almost at an end, but if russia should ever find herself involved in a great war we might probably hear something of the doings of the lesghians in that region. the garrison is very small. the club is the centre of all the social life of signakh, and on saturday evenings there are informal dances, to which the stranger looks forward as a welcome break in the monotony of provincial life. the gostinnitsa "nadezhda" (hope inn), which we nicknamed "grand hôtel de kakhétie," is dirty and uninviting to a degree which europeans could hardly imagine possible; but it is the best hostelry in the town. the court-house is just opposite the inn, and i remember spending a very interesting evening there on one occasion, watching the trial of georgians, tatars, armenians, by a russian justice of the peace in a gorgeous uniform. the cases were settled with a rapidity to which the high court of chancery is a stranger. altogether, signakh is a dirty but highly picturesque little town; its streets are narrow, crooked, and ill-paved, the shops, as is usual in the east, are small, open rooms, in which saddlers, tailors, and smiths may be seen plying their respective trades; all round about the town are beautiful hills covered with oak, walnut, and other tall forest-trees. the only other place it reminded me of was amalfi, and even in this case the resemblance was but slight. on one of the neighbouring hills, at bodbé, is the monastery of st. nina. this venerable relic stands in one of the finest pieces of scenery in all kakheti, and is surrounded by a thick forest, which has from the earliest times been protected from destruction by a popular tradition, declaring that he who breaks off a branch therein will die within the same year. the monastery was originally built by king mirian immediately after the death of the apostle of georgia, and her tomb may still be seen in the present church, which, according to an inscription on one of the walls, was restored by a certain king giorgi, after the country had been laid waste by tamerlan. in the sacristy are many old manuscripts, amongst which there are doubtless some of great historical interest, but, as far as i know, they have not yet been catalogued. on the occasion of my visit to bodbé i passed a wine-shop, where three or four georgians were making merry; they pressed me to stay and drink with them, but, offering them my thanks, i begged to be excused on the ground of want of time. on my return they came out, hat in hand, to the middle of the road, and presented me with a goblet, which i could not refuse to drain without giving serious displeasure to my kind entertainers. this little incident is a very good illustration of the georgian character: when the georgian is merry, everybody else must share his jollity or he is unhappy. i have seen a squire quite unnecessarily leave a scene of revelry for a minute or two in order to heap up food in his horse's manger, so that the faithful beast might share in the universal joy. a trip across the alazana. bakurtsikhe--kartuban--lagodekh. by daily excursions among the sloping vine-clad hills i soon made myself familiar with kakheti, the garden of georgia; at kodalo i had shared the munificent hospitality of the andronikovs, at bakurtsikhe that of the vachnadzes; but i had never been in the wild country beyond the alazana, and it was with pleasure that i accepted the invitation of the princes vachnadze to accompany them on their yearly visit to their estates at kartuban, on the river kabalo, at the foot of the mountains on the other side of the plain. accordingly, on a certain bright summer morning our cavalcade might have been seen winding down the steep main street of signakh. the first halting-place was to be bakurtsikhe, seventeen versts from signakh, where we had been invited to meet a large company of kakhetian squires and ladies at dinner. our path, for some miles after leaving the town, lay in the dry bed of a torrent. the remembrance of the wild, beautiful scenery of that narrow gorge still fills me with delightful emotions. it was the scene of so many pleasant rides--in the fierce heat of the noonday sun, in the cool of evening, after midnight on stormy nights, when we had returned homewards drenched with rain, our path illumined only by dazzling flashes of lightning. as we picked our way among the stones we met many a courteous gentleman, most of them clad in the same circassian garb as ourselves, but not a few, especially the older men, in the true national garb--a short tunic, with long flaps of cloth hanging from the shoulders; a dress said to resemble the ancient polish costume. each raised his tall papakh of astrakhan fur, and, with graceful bow, saluted us, after the manner of the country, with the word gamardjwéba, which is, being interpreted, "i wish thee the victory," to which we answered gaguimardjos--"may god grant thee the victory." these salutations are as eloquent as a dozen volumes of history. i never heard them without thinking of the sad but glorious past of the georgian kingdom, nobly holding its own, unaided, and witnessing for christ and his cross against all the hosts of islam, performing prodigies of valour that would have added to the fame of greece or rome. god grant thee the victory, brave georgia! emerging from the glen, we joined the post road at anaga, and our impatient horses set off at a gallop. on we sped through the well-kept vineyards of a russian capitalist, count sheremetiev, who threatens to ruin all the poor squires of the district by selling his wines under cost price. at a little village, about half-way between signakh and bakurtsikhe, two of us had far outstripped the rest, and were racing neck to neck when my companion's horse cast a shoe; so leaving him at a roadside smithy, i went on alone. the fierce summer sun stood high in the blue arch of heaven; on my left were vine-clad crags; to the right, beyond the river, rose the white peaks of the mountain wall between me and europe. but i thought not of europe. i forgot kindred, country, humanity--everything. my horse and i were one, and we were merged in that great, living ocean of life--our mother earth. my pulse beat in harmony with the heart of nature herself, keeping time with the rippling rills, the whisper of the wandering airs to the leaves of the trembling trees. i had entered a blissful nirvana, in which all consciousness of self was swallowed up in the world's soul. i had ridden half a mile beyond the point whence i should have ascended by a bridle-path to our host's house, before the cool shade of a cliff aroused me from my state of forgetfulness. it was on the summit of this cliff that my friends had recently met their tenants to discuss some little differences that had arisen between them. honest folk do not like law-courts--especially russian law-courts--so the good kakhetians decided to settle their dispute in the old-fashioned, orthodox manner. a couple of horses were killed, and a good many men on either side were pretty severely hacked and bruised; but the landlords came off victorious. they, nevertheless, agreed to grant certain concessions to the farmers, so all left the field of battle delighted with one another. it is only just to say that this case was an exceptional one. the relations between the gentry and peasantry are excellent; they are on terms of such affectionate familiarity that the latter always address their prince by his pet name. soon after noon we were all enjoying the hospitality of our friend. when i say hospitality, i am not using the word in its conventional sense; a georgian displays towards his guest such courtesy and kindness as are unknown among european peoples. other friends soon arrived, and at three o'clock, the usual dinner-hour, a score of us sat down to dine in a shady arbour on the hillside. the dishes were purely oriental; rich pilavi (rice cooked with fruits, pistachio nuts, &c.), shishlik (a choice cut of mutton roasted on a silver skewer over a yard long, on which it is served up), and many another delicacy, the thought of which makes my mouth water even now. the wine deserves special mention. kakheti has one of the finest soils in the world for grape-growing, and any kind of wine, including fine champagne, can be produced there. unfortunately, the people in general have not yet become acquainted with the methods by which wine has to be "manipulated" in order to make it at once agreeable to a european palate. some of the best brands are not, however, open to this objection, and are largely sold in petersburg and moscow, but they are not so well known as they deserve to be. merchants discourage the introduction of new wines, as our australian and south african fellow-subjects know to their cost; but the day will undoubtedly come when caucasian vintages will be known and appreciated. the drinking habits of the georgians are interesting. a toastmaster (tolumbash) is always chosen, and it is his duty to propose the health of each guest in turn. to those who do not drain their glasses before the time for the next toast has arrived, the tolumbash cries alaverdi! to which the laggard replies, yakhsheol, and immediately finishes the draught, in order to escape the penalty of swallowing a large hornful of liquor at a breath. these words are of tatar origin, and commemorate a brave tatar named alaverdi, who fell in a battle between the georgians and persians. the glasses contain a quarter of a pint, and the stranger who sits down with a score of friends is somewhat apprehensive as to the condition in which he will leave the table. luckily, the wine is nothing but pure grape-juice, and a person with a tolerably strong head can dispose of two or three quarts of it without feeling much the worse. each toast is accompanied by the singing of a grand old song called mraval djamier ghmerthma inebos (may god grant thee many years), to which the person thus honoured must sing the reply, madlobeli vart (i thank you). i have transcribed the song in the appendix. the ladies drink water scarcely coloured with wine. our dinner lasted more than two hours, and concluded with some miscellaneous toasts, among which those of england and her queen were received with the greatest enthusiasm. then, after tea, the guests amused themselves with music and dancing, and nightfall found us all, young and old, chasing one another about on the hillside in the games of cat-and-mouse and blindman's buff. it was past midnight before we retired to rest; some of us lay on the low, carpet-covered takhti, or divans, which in georgia replace beds, while those who preferred it slept out on the green, wrapped up in their cloaks. it had been arranged that we should start for the alazana on the following morning at four o'clock, in order to escape the terrible midday heat of the low-lying plains by the river-side; but when we rose we found that a couple of the horses had disappeared, and this delayed us for two or three hours. at length we started, and, waving farewells to all our good friends at bakurtsikhe, we proceeded down the long slope to the plain. there were six of us, besides a servant, and we were armed to the teeth, after the manner of the country, with daggers, pistols, swords, and rifles--not an unnecessary precaution, for we saw ploughmen with a double-barrelled gun slung over the shoulder, and sword and dagger at the girdle, while a man stood at the end of the furrow ready to give the alarm. these fertile lands are only half tilled. the wild lesghian marauders come down upon the farms, and steal all that can be carried away, and in the event of a war they would simply burn up the whole country to the very gates of tiflis. it was a weary journey down to the river-bank, and we did not reach the ferry until noon. the ferryman lives in a hut a good way from the river, and it was only after firing half a dozen shots in the air that we succeeded in attracting his attention. that half-hour of waiting among the reeds, with the sun right overhead, was the warmest half-hour i ever spent. at length the ferry-boat, a long tree-trunk with the inside burnt out of it, came across the stream, and we took our saddles and bridles and laid them in it. the horses had, of course, to swim, and it was a long and difficult task to get them all over. the current is very strong, and it was a subject for congratulation that none of them were carried away by it. excepting at the ferry, the banks are so steep that it is impossible to land. when all had safely reached the other side we lay down under the shade of the trees, and lunched off cucumbers and coarse bread, washed down by the white kakhetian wine, of which we carried a full sheepskin. the hottest part of our day's work was over; instead of burnt, shadowless plains we should now have the sunless forest to ride through until we reached our halting-place for the night. but we well knew that we should not be in clover for the rest of the day, for we had often been told that this wood was infested by a horse-fly of a very malignant character, and as we rode along the northward path we had an opportunity of making the acquaintance of the insect in question. within a mile of the bank we were surrounded by swarms of them, and the horses, becoming more and more restless, at last went perfectly mad with pain, while the blood dripped plentifully from their flanks. to think of holding them in by bit and bridle was out of the question, the only thing to be done was to let them gallop ahead and to keep a sharp look-out for the many boughs that overhung the scarcely perceptible track. although georgia is not in the tropics, this was a truly tropical forest with all its luxuriant and beautiful vegetation; walnut and other fancy woods abound, but they are allowed to fall and rot unutilized; the undergrowth on either hand is so thick as to be impenetrable; on all sides are masses of strange, bright flowers, making the air heavy with perfume, and birds of dazzling plumage sit chattering on every tree. about an hour before sunset we reached the river kabalo, a swift, shallow mountain stream, which we forded, and then rode up a fine glade to the encampment of my friends' tatar herdsmen. about a score of families live there all the summer in large tents, which are not altogether devoid of comfort; in the interior may be seen carpeted divans, gold and silver ornaments are not uncommon, and the copper household utensils are thoroughly artistic in shape and beautifully engraved. we dismounted at the chief man's tent, and, lying down on the greensward, waited impatiently for dinner. the fare was abundant and good, as was to be expected in a country so rich in game and fish, and we slaked our thirst with cool kumiss (fermented mare's milk). the tatars are fine, bold-looking fellows; there is in their faces a look of wild freedom that is extremely attractive to one who has spent the most of his life in cities. i believe that if i had stayed a week or two in that camp on the kabalo, i should have been content to renounce civilized life altogether. a very houri, a gazelle of the wilderness, a sixteen-year old maiden in red tunic and wide trousers, with long dark hair in countless tiny braids and pretty little white bare feet and ankles, cast timid glances in our direction, and lovely, languorous eyes said as plainly as possible, "fly to the desert! fly with me" ... and many other things which the curious reader may find recorded in the works of the late mr. thos. moore. at nightfall we rode away, accompanied by a few tatars, to visit the large herds of horses and cattle which feed near here, and then proceeded to the little cluster of cottages where the georgian farm-labourers live, about a couple of miles higher up the river. we were received by the steward, a greek from cilicia, and after chatting merrily over our tea for a few hours, we spread our burkas on the ground and slept as well as the clouds of fierce mosquitoes would allow us to do, under the starlit sky, lulled by the music of the stream. about an hour before dawn the cold aroused us all, and after a bath in the icy waters of the kabalo, and a hasty breakfast, we visited the farm-buildings. tobacco is the chief commodity produced, but its cultivation is at present rather unprofitable; i saw three hundred bales of the finest leaves of last year's growth lying in the store unsold; it is quite equal to turkish, and can be bought at a ridiculously low price, but it is not yet known in europe, even in russia "batumskii tabak" has only recently been introduced, although it is far superior to that which is grown on the don. georgian landowners cannot afford to push the sale of their wares in europe, but i am sure that if english firms would send out buyers they would not regret it, unless they dealt with the wily armenian middle-man instead of the georgian producer. the fear of the lesghian robber-bands prevents any great outlay of capital in the development of such a district, and, indeed, nobody in georgia has much capital to spare, so the greater part of the estate i am speaking of, hundreds of square miles in extent, is a pathless forest. by eight o'clock we were in the saddle. the path rises through thick woodlands to the summit of a hill crossed by a narrow, rocky pass which has an unpleasant reputation as being the haunt of brigands; only a few weeks before, a party of travellers had been attacked there, two of their number were wounded, and they were all relieved of their purses, jewellery, and arms. we were within half a mile of the top when we perceived a lesghian prowling about a little in advance of us. we halted, unslung our fire-arms and loaded, then extending for attack, as far as the nature of of the country would allow, we went forward at a quick walking pace. we soon caught sight of three more lesghians, but this was evidently the whole force, for they contented themselves with looking at us from a distance, and seeing that the odds were in our favour, they galloped away into the depths of the forest, and left us to pursue our journey unmolested. climbing to the summit of the hill, we enjoyed a splendid view of the alazana valley from the opposite side to that whence we had been accustomed to see it; behind us rose the white peaks of the caucasus, looking very near in the clear morning air. a little way off the blue smoke rising from among the trees showed us where our friends, the highwaymen, were cooking their breakfast. to the eastward, almost at the foot of the hill, lay the russian military colony of mikhailovka, to which we descended. mikhailovka is fairly prosperous compared with other russian colonies in transcaucasia, but to a european it does not seem an arcadia; it is one wide, straggling street of poor, dirty-looking farmhouses. the colonists have to struggle with fever and ague, not to speak of lesghians, and altogether do not seem to enjoy their life very much. mikhailovka is the point at which the military road from signakh turns to the eastward, and about five miles farther on arrives at lagodekh, the staff head-quarters of an army corps, into which we rode about an hour before noon. lagodekh is a place of some size, with wide, clean streets and large grassy squares, planted with fine trees, the houses are neat and comfortable-looking. swift mountain streams run through it and supply delicious water. the public buildings comprise barracks, hospital, stores, a fine church of red sandstone, a modest club-house, bazar, &c. we made our way to the quarters of an officer of the th, whose hospitality we enjoyed until evening. in spite of the terrible heat, our host showed us everything worth seeing. the park is the great attraction, it is beautifully kept, and contains a fine long avenue of tall poplars; in the middle of it is a pavilion with the garrison ball-room, and near the entrance may be seen a small cemetery where there is a real, old-fashioned ghost, which, under the semblance of a white lady carrying a cross, affrights the local tommy atkins every year in the month of june. i commend this sprite to the attention of the psychical research society, and i am quite willing to proceed to lagodekh and spend a month there in investigating the matter--at the society's expense. the troops suffer a good deal in the summer months, and there are many casualties from apoplexy, dysentery, and other complaints. early in the afternoon we sat down to dinner, and did full justice to the fare. my neighbour on the right was the brother of a charming lady whom i had met in tiflis, and it so happened that he had that very day received from her a letter in which i was spoken of, for englishmen are rare birds in these lands. this gentleman had wandering proclivities almost as strong as my own, and he informed me that he thought of travelling overland by merv to india, "where the english pay private soldiers as much as the russians pay a captain." after dinner we all slept for an hour, and then, the heat having slightly diminished, we started for mikhailovka. a bear hunt was to take place on the following day, and we were urgently pressed to stay and take part in it, but we had to be back in signakh within the next twenty-four hours, and were therefore obliged to deny ourselves this pleasure. before we were clear of lagodekh somebody had the unfortunate idea of starting a wild gallop, but the spot was badly chosen, for a sudden turn in the road brought us to a river with a wide, stony bed. the leading horse threw his rider into the very middle of the stream, i was deposited on a heap of big stones on the other side; all the rest, warned by our mishap, escaped. it took over an hour to catch the runaway horses, and when we reached mikhailovka i felt as if i had passed through a thrashing-mill, every bone was aching. our camping-ground was under a large oak-tree, behind a peasant's house, and we lay there on the ground, a prey to the mosquitoes, until early morning. at half-past four we were in the saddle, and after a stirrup-cup of russian vodka, galloped down the smooth, well-kept military road towards the alazana, occasionally glancing back at the beautiful hill country behind us. i felt all my many bruises with double force after the night's rest, and it was as much as i could do to keep my seat, not to speak of emulating the exploits of my companions, who were amusing themselves with shots at the hares and feathered game with which the country abounds. at length, at about eight o'clock, we reached the chiauri bridge, a shaky-looking wooden structure. there is a wretched little wine-shop, where we dismounted for breakfast. a fine fish of fifteen pounds' weight, with some of the coarse, indiarubber-like bread of the country, formed the solid part of the meal; i need not say what the liquid part of it was; we emptied our sheepskin and then fell back on mine host's supplies. the river, in summer at least, is sluggish and dirty, and has an evil smell of decaying vegetable matter, very suggestive of malarial fever; if our acquaintance with the alazana had been confined to this portion of it, we should have been at a loss to understand the high praise which has been bestowed on it by all the sweet singers of rustaveli's land. we spent a couple of hours in rest and refreshment, and then started for home across the broad plain yellow with ripe grain. noon saw us begin the toilsome ascent of the hills of signakh, and an hour later we were lying on our balcony dreamily smoking cigarettes of kartuban tobacco, while we mentally retraced every step of our delightful journey among the fair scenes which now lay spread at our feet. signakh to telav, and thence to tiflis. my stay in kakheti was so pleasant that i found it very hard to leave. my good friends there insisted that i should marry a georgian lady and settle down as a country squire, to grow wine and drink it among them for the remainder of my natural life; when i finally decided upon the day for my departure they pressed me to stay, at least, until the vintage-time, but i still had much ground to go over, and i had made up my mind to return to england before winter set in. one morning in july i said good-bye to signakh, and set out in a post-cart for telav. as far as bakurtsikhe the road was quite familiar to me; it had never seemed so beautiful as it did when i said farewell to it. then came kalaki, which like bakurtsikhe, is full of members of the vachnadze family, and gurdjani, one of the villages belonging to the andronikovs. the andronikovs are descended from a byzantine prince who fled to georgia during the reign of queen tamara; they have always been distinguished for bravery and munificence, the two virtues which are most appreciated in this country; in the present century they have produced a general worthy to rank with any who have ever served the tsars. i may say, in passing, that it is astonishing to find what a large percentage of the great military leaders in the russian army have been and are of georgian birth. another curious circumstance is that some of the best families in georgia are of foreign origin; the bagrats, the royal family, were once hebrews, and claim to be descended from david, the son of jesse; the orbelianis, the second family in the kingdom, came from china; the andronikovs, as we have just remarked, were originally greeks. near gurdjani is akhtala, a muddy hollow in which are slime baths, resorted to by persons suffering from rheumatism, scrofula, and many other diseases; the baths are simply round holes full of mud, in the middle of which an evil-smelling gas slowly bubbles up; the largest bath of all is reserved for cattle. i need hardly say that all the bathing goes on al fresco, for nobody has thought of building a hydropathic establishment in this remote corner of the caucasus. akhtala has, of course, its legend. it is said that a farmer was once working in his vineyard on the feast of the transfiguration, when a passer-by asked him why he was not at church on so holy a day. the scoffer replied that he had seen enough of transfigurations, he and his wife had been transfigured into old people, and their children into men and women; the wayfarer, who was none other than our lord, said, "well, you shall see yet another transfiguration," whereupon the ground opened, and belched forth a liquid mass, which swallowed up the vineyard, with the sinner and all his household. the road continues to run parallel to the alazana, and the next station is mukuzani, seventeen versts from bakurtsikhe, near which is the flourishing town of velistsikhe. all this region is a fertile, well-cultivated plain, and there are many villages renowned for their wines; the peasants of the telav district are much wealthier than those near signakh. akuri, fourteen versts from mukuzani, is the last station. the city of telav is now visible on the top of a hill straight in front, and it has a very picturesque appearance. about half a dozen miles beyond akuri, in a beautiful valley, is tsinondal, formerly the home of prince david chavchavadze, but now the property of alexander alexandrovich, autocrat of all the russias, for whom a vast palace was being built at the time of my visit. the tsar would be far safer here than at gachina, for there are no anarchists among the georgians, and i cannot account for the rumour that it was proposed to exile a large number of the young nobles, in order to assure the monarch's safety during his sojourn in the caucasus. tsinondal is famous as the scene of one of the most dramatic incidents of the war with shamil, viz., the capture of princesses chavchavadze and orbeliani in july, . on account of rumours of lesghian raids the chavchavadze family had not left tiflis for their estates until the month of july. they arrived safely at tsinondal, and were soon joined by nina chavchavadze's sister, princess varvara orbeliani, whose husband had just been killed while fighting against the turks. they were but newly settled in their summer quarters, when prince chavchavadze received orders to go and take the command of a fortress some distance from home. before leaving, he reassured his family by telling them that reinforcements were about to be sent to telav, and that the alazana was so high that the enemy could not cross it. in a few days the prince wrote to his wife to say that he was besieged by a force of five or six thousand lesghians, but had no fear of the place being taken; if he thought it advisable for his family to leave tsinondal, he would let them know. meanwhile the lesghians were nearer than was imagined, and the flames from burning villages in the neighbourhood soon warned the family that no time was to be lost. first of all the peasants came and begged the princess to fly to the woods with them; then the gentry of the district offered their aid for the same purpose, but these offers were declined; her husband had told her to stay there, and there she would stay. at length, the advance of the enemy had proceeded so far in the direction of tsinondal, that the princess consented to have all her plate and jewels packed up one night, ready for flight on the morrow; but it was too late. soon after dawn the lesghians were in the gardens of the castle. the family doctor and a handful of servants gallantly held the gate for a few minutes, but they were soon shot down, and the place was in the hands of the wild men of the mountains. the women and children sought refuge in a garret, whence they heard the smashing of mirrors, pianos, and other furniture. a few lesghians soon discovered the hiding-place of the terrified family, and each seized a woman or child as his share of the booty. as they bore away their prisoners the staircase broke under their weight, and all fell in a confused heap on the lower floor. then there was a murderous fight for the possession of the ladies; their garments were torn to shreds, and some of them were wounded. the conquerors picked up the senseless victims from a heap of dead lesghians, and forced them to mount on horseback behind them. the passage of the alazana was accomplished with great danger, and when they reached the other side the half-naked ladies were wet, chilled, and miserable. strange to tell, princess baratov, a beautiful girl of eighteen, had not lost any article of dress, and was as richly attired as if she had been on her way to a ball. but poor mdme. drançay, the french governess, had nothing left but a chemise and a corset. a handful of georgians attempted a rescue; the lesghians mistook them for the skirmishers in advance of an army, and fled. princess nina chavchavadze had an infant in her arms, and after riding for some distance she was so wearied that the baby fell and was trampled under the horses' feet. she would have leaped after it, but her captor held her fast, and another man coolly cut the child's throat. finding the number of prisoners too large, the lesghians killed sixty of them on the road. all the villages on the way were burned, and their inhabitants butchered. then they mounted through a thick forest and up among the mountains to pokhalski, where shamil was staying with an army of ten thousand men. there they were joined by a new prisoner, niko chavchavadze, who, with thirty georgians, had held a castle for three days against five hundred lesghians, and only surrendered when he had not a cartridge left. shamil ordered the princess to write to tiflis saying that all the prisoners would be handed over to russia in exchange for his son, djemal eddin, and a fair ransom. in the meantime the ladies had to make themselves veils of muslin, and they lived in the harem of shamil. they were, however, treated honourably, and they always had the highest respect for the great warrior and prophet. eight months elapsed before the negotiations were concluded, and on the th of march, , the exchange took place at kasafiurte. djemal eddin, shamil's son, had since his early youth been held as a hostage at petersburg. he was a most amiable man; had become perfectly russian in his way of life, and spoke russian, french, and german fluently; he was colonel of a regiment, and aide-de-camp to the tsar. it was with deep regret that he left civilization to return to the wild life of his native mountains, and in he died of a broken heart. mounting the sloping tsivi hills, the road enters telav by the boulevard, at one end of which is the inn; but on my applying for lodgings i was told that the house was under repair, and travellers could not be entertained. i was recommended to go to "the club." at the club the room offered me was so dirty and cheerless that i decided to make the post-house my headquarters. it was only one o'clock in the afternoon, and i determined to have an early dinner. in a town like telav, thought i, it will be possible to get something to eat. i first addressed myself to the postmaster, who replied that boiling-water was the only refreshment he could offer me, but held out the hope that i might get dinner in the town. i wandered up and down the streets for an hour, hungry, thirsty, and hot, and then found a dirty eating-house where i refreshed myself with vodka, eggs, wine, and bread. it took three quarters of an hour to boil the eggs! i leave the reader to imagine whether my first impressions of telav were favourable or not. i returned to the station and slept. it was beginning to get cooler before i went to examine the objects of interest in the town. telav, the capital of the ancient kingdom of kakheti, lies in a very strong position on two hills, about feet above the alazana. it was founded by king grigal i., first king of kakheti, destroyed by the persians under shah abbas in the sixteenth century, and rebuilt by irakli ii. the present population is about eight or nine thousand. in going from the post-house to the centre of the town i passed through a gateway in the old wall, which used to surround the whole city, and is of great antiquity. on the left is the palace of irakli ii., now used as a grammar-school for young gentlewomen, and in it may be seen the room where the old hero died, on january th, . there are a couple of interesting old churches, containing curious pictures and ornaments of a certain artistic value. the main street is well paved, and has a long arcade under which are the chief shops. telav is much more cheerful than signakh, although the population is smaller, and there are comparatively few armenians. from a low bridge across the dry bed of a torrent, one gets a splendid view over the alazana to the caucasian range and the country of the tushes. when i had seen all the sights of telav, i felt bored to death, and was just preparing to leave the boulevard for a walk in the country, when a handsome boy of fourteen, in a cadet's uniform, ran up and welcomed me effusively. it was young prince m----, whom i had met in tiflis. he was soon followed by his father, a retired colonel, who has done good service for the great white tsar, and has been wounded more than once. although i had only seen him once or twice before, he reproached me for not coming to take up my quarters at his house, and repeatedly urged me to stay a few days with him. but i had made up my mind to leave for tiflis early on the following morning. we took a walk in the park called nadikari, given to the town by the vakhvakhovs, and enjoyed enchanting views of the alazana dale and the mountains. returning to my friend's house, we supped, and sat over our wine until past midnight. when i left for the post-house the grey-headed warrior and his pretty son embraced me and wished me every good thing. they insisted upon sending with me a servant who carried wine and bread for my journey. at four o'clock on the following morning i left my wooden couch, and seated myself in the stage-coach for tiflis. i only had two companions, an armenian trader of the most objectionable description, and a georgian schoolmaster on his way to odessa for a holiday. the latter was a very jolly fellow, and intelligent withal. he was an ardent champion of the doctrines of the first revolution, and of the modern principle of nationality. he soon entered into conversation with me. my unmistakably foreign accent immediately roused his curiosity, and when i told him that i was english he steadfastly refused to believe me, asserting that i was a mingrelian. the road passes through a few villages, and then, as it mounts by the side of the river, the houses become scarcer. on the right are many square holes in the face of a steep cliff; they are said, like those between tiflis and mtzkhet, to have been used as places of refuge in time of war, and they are approached from a monastery on the top of the hill. on the left is the monastery of the mother of god, a favourite resort of the people of telav. the track then runs along the bottom of the valley, on the right bank of the river turdo, amid rich woodland scenery. it takes a long time to mount to the summit of gambori. this winding road had only recently been opened to traffic, and there is no posting yet. the best means of conveyance is the daily coach, and it is a slow and uncomfortable vehicle. i had been advised to make a good meal at gambori station, and, as the coach waits there for half an hour, i entered the dukhan, or wine-shop, with this object in view. alas! nothing was to be had but vodka, tobacco, and matches! beyond gambori the scenery becomes quite english-looking for a time. there is abundance of game of all kinds, and i saw two fine deer run across the road behind us. climbing to a grassy knoll, bare of trees, we arrived at length at the pass of gambori, deservedly called cold mountain ( feet above sea level, and thirty-four versts from telav), and, leaving kakheti behind us, descended into the valley of the iora and the province of kartli. passing the ruined castle of verena, built in the fifth century by king gurgaslan, we enjoy an ever-changing view of indescribable loveliness all the way to lager. lager, as the name indicates, is a military post, and is of some importance on account of its position, about half-way between tiflis and telav; it is the summer quarters of a brigade. the garrison was not at that time very large, but there was some talk of increasing it; indeed, we met a couple of hundred men and half a dozen guns only a few versts beyond the village. the heat was terrible, and we could not help pitying the poor soldiers, who were cursing and sweating as they toiled up the mountain side. the radical schoolmaster began to descant on the advantages of universal disarmament, but he was interrupted by a good little peasant woman from the russian colony at lager, who replied that it was certainly very hard, but "if we had not a large army the english would come and make slaves of us all." the next station was udjarma, a fortress of great importance from the third century to the fifteenth, but now an uninteresting place, chiefly remarkable for the fact that the village graveyard is on the top of a very steep, isolated hill. from this point the road becomes dull; it crosses a bare, windy plain, and is as wearisome as the signakh road, which it meets near vaziani. the white church of st. david's was soon seen glittering in the sun; then orkhevi was passed, and not long after sunset we entered tiflis, hot, dusty, tired, and hungry, after our journey of versts. i spent two days in tiflis, where the heat had by that time become stifling; then i regretfully doffed my circassian garb, and again submitted to the bondage of the stiff linen collar. on the afternoon of the third day i was in baku. the history of georgia. georgian history may be said to begin with pharnavaz, the first king of the country, who reigned in the third century b.c. it is to him that the invention of the ordinary civil alphabet is commonly attributed. from this remote date down to the present time we have an almost unbroken narrative, the trustworthiness of which is proved by its agreement with the annals of other lands. those who are specially interested in the early history will find in the sequel such bibliographical references as will enable them to satisfy their curiosity; but the present sketch will be confined to the more modern period, beginning in the eleventh century a.d. in david ii., of the bagratid line, descended, if we are to believe tradition, from david the psalmist (note the harp and the sling in the royal arms of georgia), as well as from pharnavaz, came to the throne. during the reigns of his immediate predecessors the land had been mercilessly laid waste by the seldjukid turks; but the successes of the crusaders, and the temporary decline of the mahometan power in the east, enabled him to raise his country to a very high position. having boldly attacked the turks, and driven them out of every part of his dominions, he set himself to rebuild cities, fortresses, and churches, purged the state and the church of many abuses, and liberally encouraged education. these deeds have won for him the name of david the renewer. georgia enjoyed prosperity for the next hundred years, and then came the zenith of the national glory. in queen tamara succeeded her father, and reigned twenty-eight years, the happiest and most glorious period in the history of the country. the queen had the good fortune to be surrounded by wise counsellors and brave generals, but it is chiefly to her own virtues that her success is to be ascribed. the military exploits in which she was engaged spread her fame throughout the whole of asia. erzerum, dovin, trebizond, sinope, samsun, kars, and ani saw the triumph of the georgian arms, the renowned rokn eddin was signally defeated, and the persians were terror-stricken by her expedition to khorassan. yet she did not neglect home affairs; she was the orphan's mother, the widow's judge. religion was the moving force in everything that she did; when a large booty was captured, a portion of it was always set aside for the blessed virgin, and churches soon sprang up in every village. she daily spent much time in prayer, and made garments for the poor with her own fair, queenly hands. there is a tradition to the effect that she every day did as much work as would pay for her food, and although this is probably an exaggeration, it serves to show what the character of the queen was. her literary talents were of no mean order; when she had won a battle, she could, like deborah, tell forth her triumph in a sweet, glad song to the lord of hosts, and one, at least, of these psalms is still preserved; but it is chiefly as the inspirer and patroness of poets that she is famous. such fragments of her correspondence as we have before us reveal the fact that she was no mean diplomatist. one of them especially breathes forth a noble spirit of fearless faith. rokn eddin had raised an army of , men, and was preparing to march against georgia. before setting out he sent an ambassador to the queen, asking her to renounce christianity and become his wife, and concluding the letter with the threat that if she would not submit, he would come and make her his mistress. the ambassador who proposed such insolent terms would have been killed by tamara's courtiers if she had not protected him. she wrote back calmly, expressing her trust in god, and declaring her determination to destroy rokn eddin and his infidel hosts. she finishes with a truly womanly touch: "knowing how careless your men are, i do not return this by your messenger, but send one of my own servants with it." not contented with driving the mahometans out of her own land, she sent ambassadors to the christian communities in alexandria, libya, mount sinai, jerusalem, cyprus, greece, and rumania, to offer them help if they needed it; and in order to secure orthodoxy in the theology of her people, she commanded that a great disputation should be held between the doctors of the georgian and armenian churches. her private life was not free from trouble. three years after her accession she was prevailed upon to marry a russian prince, bogoliubovskoi, who had been driven out of his dominions in muscovy. this individual conducted himself towards his consort in a shameful manner, and, after enduring his indignities for a long time, she complained to the ecclesiastical authorities, who granted her a divorce. she had no children by her first husband, so the nobles of the kingdom pressed her to marry again, in order that she might have an heir. her beauty and her fame brought her suitors from the most distant lands. mahometans renounced their religion for her, and there were many that died for love of her. she chose prince david soslan, an osset, who, by his bravery and devotion, proved himself worthy to possess such a pearl among women, and she bore him a son, called giorgi lasha, in , and a daughter, rusudan, in . bogoliubovskoi, although he had been treated far beyond his deserts, twice invaded georgia, but without success. in , wearied by her continual campaigns, and sorrow-stricken at the death of her husband and her greatest general, tamara died, and left the throne to her son, giorgi lasha, at that time eighteen years of age. the young king was no sooner crowned than ganja revolted, and this was soon followed by a still greater calamity, the invasion of genghis khan. giorgi led , troops against the mongols, but was defeated. in the meantime the shah of persia had asked for the hand of the beautiful rusudan, and the shah of shirvan made a like demand. giorgi promised his sister to the latter, but he died in . rusudan now became queen, and rejected both suitors in favour of mogit eddin, lord of erzerum. the sultan of khorassan thereupon desolated georgia and took tiflis, and the persians and mongols together made terrible havoc for a time. rusudan at last submitted to the mongols, and sent her son to the great khan as a hostage. georgia had now sunk very low indeed, and in , on the death of rusudan, her son, david iv., and her nephew, david v., divided the kingdom between them. henceforth kartli and imereti were independent. for the next years we read of nothing but battles, sieges, raids, and in king alexander completely destroyed the unity of the kingdom by dividing it among his three sons. he gave kartli to vakhtang, imereti to dimitri, kakheti to giorgi. in course of time mingreli, guri, apkhazi, svaneti, all revolted, and the land became the prey of turks and persians alternately, although even in its distracted condition, its people never lost their bravery, and were always respected by their enemies. now and then the mahometans succeeded in conquering one or other of the provinces, but it was never long before they were driven out again, and fire and sword carried into their own land. towards the end of the sixteenth century we find the country divided between the two great mahometan powers, who had long made it their battle-field. mingreli, guri, saatabago, and imereti were held by the turks; kartli, kakheti, somkheti, and kartuban voluntarily submitted to persia, and were, in consequence, repeatedly devastated by the tatar allies of the ottoman empire. in king alexander ii. of kakheti sent ambassadors to the tsar feodor ivanovich, asking for help, and a treaty was signed, according to which the russian monarch agreed to protect kakheti against the turks, and to send troops to the caucasus for this purpose. shah abbas the great made no objection to this treaty, for he himself was anxious to gain the alliance of the muscovites against turkey. early in the seventeenth century king giorgi of kartli also sought russian protection, and it is probable that russia and georgia would have been brought into very intimate connection by royal marriages, &c., if the death of tsar boris godunov, and that of king giorgi, who was poisoned by order of shah abbas, had not broken off the negotiations. the persian shah, suspecting king alexander of kakheti of a treasonable correspondence with the turks, sent against him his (alexander's) own son, konstantin, who had been brought up at the persian court, and had embraced islam. this apostate mercilessly killed his father and brother; but the nobles rose against him, and almost annihilated his army, whereupon he fled to the lesghians, and offered to allow them to plunder tiflis for three days if they would help him. they agreed. the nobles were defeated, and the land was again given up to the devastating infidels. king teimuraz of kakheti, grandson of alexander, in , from a hiding-place in the mountains, sent an embassy to the tsar mikhail feodorovich, beseeching him to have pity on his georgian fellow-christians. the tsar requested shah abbas to cease from persecuting the georgians, and his wish was granted in the most friendly way possible. not only was teimuraz allowed to return to kakheti, but kartli also was given to him, and remained a part of his kingdom until , when it was taken from him and given to rostom, a mahometan. in rostom took kakheti also, and teimuraz was obliged to seek refuge at the court of imereti, whence he proceeded to moscow to ask for help; but in consequence of the war then being waged against poland, the tsar could not spare any troops. teimuraz returned to georgia, and was taken prisoner by the shah. imereti was at this time governed by king bagrat, who came to the throne at the age of fifteen, his stepmother, daredjan, being appointed regent. daredjan endeavoured to gain the love of the young king, who was already married to her niece, and on his refusal to listen to her incestuous proposals, she had his eyes put out, and married vakhtang dshudshuna, whom she proclaimed king. assisted by the pasha of akhaltsikhe, the loyal imeretians replaced bagrat the blind on the throne, and then the eyes of vakhtang were put out, and he and daredjan were imprisoned. on the death of rostom, in , vakhtang iv., of the mukhran family, became king of kartli and kakheti, and reigned till . when he died his son giorgi usurped the throne of kartli, leaving only kakheti to his elder brother archil, who journeyed to moscow, but did not get the desired aid from russia. he then returned to the caucasus, five times succeeded in obtaining the crown of imereti, and five times was deposed. he died in russia in . in vakhtang v. came to the throne of kartli. the first seven years of his reign were spent as a prisoner in ispahan. in there was a fresh invasion of turks, and, thinking his kingdom irrevocably lost, he fled to russia, where he died. shah nadir usurped the crown of persia in , and freed kartli and kakheti from the turkish yoke. a little before his accession, in , russia had renounced in favour of persia all right to the land between the terek and the kura. nadir ingratiated himself with the georgian nobility, and always gave them the post of honour in the victorious campaigns for which his reign is famous. almost all the great warriors of the land accompanied him on his indian march of conquest, and his especial favourite was irakli, the son of teimuraz, king of kartli and kakheti. an interesting story is told concerning the young warrior, in connection with this expedition. kandahar having been taken in , nadir was marching towards scinde, when he arrived at a certain column bearing an inscription which foretold death to those who went beyond it. irakli, at that time only nineteen years of age, solved the difficulty by ordering the stone to be placed on the back of an elephant, which was led before the army. scinde was conquered, and irakli was richly rewarded. the shah endeavoured to persuade the young prince to renounce the christian religion, but neither threats nor caresses prevailed. india having been conquered, nadir dismissed irakli in , and then invaded central asia, taking balkh, bokhara, samarkand, whence he returned to the caucasus and made war on the lesghians. irakli continued to distinguish himself by great bravery. on the aragva he defeated turks and lesghians, was the first to cross the swollen river under a heavy musketry fire, and killed the leader of the enemy with his own hand. for this service nadir bestowed upon him the kingdom of kakheti in . in shah nadir was assassinated, and a period of anarchy began in persia. aga mahmad khan, the chief eunuch, usurped the dignity of shah. teimuraz and irakli saved erivan from the persians in , and this city paid tribute to georgia until , when the people, not wishing to fall into the hands of russia, invited persia to take the place. in irakli, with men, signally defeated , persians at karaboulakh and again saved erivan; then granja was taken, the lesghians were dispersed, and an alliance was made with the cherkesses. teimuraz went to russia in ; tsaritsa elizabeth received him with great honour, and promised to send troops to georgia, but she died in , and teimuraz only survived her about a fortnight. irakli now succeeded to the throne of kartli, and thus reunited this kingdom to kakheti. the catholicos antoni, the most learned georgian of his time, was recalled from exile in russia and made patriarch; he founded at tiflis and telav schools where the "new philosophy" of bacmeister was taught, translated many educational works into his native tongue, reformed the church and encouraged literature. a plot was formed against the king's life in , under the following circumstances: elizabeth, irakli's sister, had been married for three years to a certain giorgi, son of dimitri amilakhorishvili, who, for physical reasons, had been unable to consummate the marriage. elizabeth applied for and obtained a divorce. dimitri thought himself insulted in the person of his son, and he and his friends began to conspire with paata, a natural son of vakhtang v., who had been educated in russia and england, and had just arrived in georgia from the persian court. paata was to kill irakli and proclaim himself king. the conspiracy was discovered in time, and all those who had taken part in it were punished with death or mutilation. solomon, king of imereti, had, in the meantime, been driven from his throne by the treachery of some of his nobles, who delivered kutais, shorapan and other fortresses to the turks. he appealed to catherine of russia for help. count todleben arrived in the caucasus with men in , and kutais was taken back, and imereti freed from the oppression of the turks. in the following year a great plague devastated the whole of transcaucasia, died in tiflis alone. the holy spear from the armenian convent at edchmiadzin was brought out, and the plague ceased; whereupon the lesghians demanded that the precious relic should be sent to them also; a spear was made exactly like the holy one, and it produced the same beneficent effect. todleben was succeeded by sukhotin, and in , peace having been restored, the russians returned homeward. but no sooner were they gone than the turks again invaded imereti; king solomon, however, defeated them with great slaughter, killing many with his own hand. irakli's kingdom enjoyed comparative peace and prosperity for a time, and advantage was taken of this to disband the regular army and organize a militia, for the defence of the country against the raids of the irrepressible lesghians. the king and his sons set an example to the people by subjecting themselves to the same discipline as private individuals, and those who did not present themselves for service were sought out and beaten with sticks. in the khan of erivan refused to pay tribute, and strongly fortified the city; the georgians took the place and carried off several armenians, who were removed to tiflis, gori, and signakh, where they now constitute the trading and money-lending community. in happened the terrible catastrophe which was to bring about the ruin of georgia--the destruction of tiflis by the shah aga mahmad. the persians marched through armenia in great force, and reached the banks of the kura without meeting with any serious opposition. their advanced guard was attacked by the georgians just outside the city, and was defeated on the th of september. speaking of this battle, the shah himself said, "i never saw so valorous a foe." on the following day the main body arrived, and tiflis was taken by storm. king irakli was so overcome with grief that he must have fallen into the hands of the enemy had not a few faithful nobles forcibly removed him from the captured city and conveyed him to mtiuleti, on the aragva. almost all the georgian artillery, thirty-five guns, was taken, and the city and its environs were burnt to the ground. for six days the work of destruction went on; women and young children were barbarously murdered, and the stench of rotting corpses made the place uninhabitable. a persian historian says, "the brave persian army showed the unbelieving georgians what is in store for them at the day of judgment." all this havoc might have been prevented if russia had sent the troops which she had solemnly promised by her treaties with irakli, for the shah had been making preparations for the invasion four months before it took place, and both russia and georgia were well aware of this. prince giorgi, unworthy son of such a father, had been repeatedly ordered to bring his army to tiflis, but he refused. no sooner did he hear of the fall of the capital than he prepared to flee from signakh, although the place was strongly fortified, and there were many armed men there; but the inhabitants refused to let him go, and it was only by bribing his guards that he succeeded in escaping to telav. not one of irakli's sons served him in the hour of his need. mtzkhet was captured and burnt, but the famous cathedral was spared, at the entreaty of the khan of nakhitshevan, who remonstrated against the desecration of the tomb of so many of georgia's brave kings. from mtiuleti, irakli proceeded to ananur. the shah sent after him men, guided by one of the king's own courtiers, but they were defeated. aga mahmad then offered to give up all the prisoners as well as the citadel of tiflis if irakli would renounce his treaty with russia, and become tributary to persia; but irakli would not hear of any terms, however favourable, which would force him to be false to his alliance with russia, although she, on her part, had forsaken him. he quickly assembled an army and marched to the southward, met the persians between kodjori and krtsani and defeated them, re-taking tiflis on the th of october. a large russian force now arrived and took derbent, shemakha, baku, and several other fortresses in daghestan, but the death of the empress catherine in put an end to the campaign, for tsar paul recalled all the troops from transcaucasia. in aga mahmad khan was again marching against georgia, when he was fortunately assassinated, like his predecessor nadir. plague and famine came to slay those who had escaped the sword of the persians, and, worst of all, the great irakli died in january, , at the age of eighty, after a career almost unparalleled in history. frederick of prussia might well say, "moi en europe, et en asie l'invincible hercule, roi de géorgie." giorgi now succeeded to the throne, and entered into negotiations with persia, but tsar paul heard of the proposed alliance and outbid the shah. a treaty was signed, confirming the throne to the bagratid dynasty for ever, and promising military aid whenever it might be necessary. alexander, the king's brother, now raised a revolt, which was put down with the help of the russians; after all he had a grievance, for irakli's will declared that he was to succeed giorgi, while the russians had persuaded the king to appoint as his heir his son david, a major-general in the russian army. alexander now appealed to persia for aid, which he obtained, and in a three hours' battle at kakabeti, on the iora, he and omar khan, with an army of , men, were defeated. giorgi died in , and georgia was then formally incorporated in the russian empire. general knorring, the first governor, proceeded to the country with , men, and in the following year, under tsar alexander i., the annexation was confirmed. in prince tsitsishvili, a georgian, succeeded knorring. by his advice all the royal family were summoned to russia, "in order to prevent civil dissensions," and this removal was accompanied by a very unfortunate incident. queen maria, widow of giorgi, refused to go; general lazarev proceeded early one morning to the queen's sleeping apartments with some soldiers and attempted to force her to accompany him; she killed him with a dagger which she had concealed under her dress, and her young son and daughter stabbed some of the soldiers. they were, of course, overpowered and carried off; at dariel, in the narrowest part of the pass, a few tagaur ossets made a vain attempt at a rescue. queen maria was kept imprisoned in a convent at voronezh for seven years, and never saw her native land again. tsitsishvili set himself to improve the condition of the country as much as possible. he began the military road over the caucasus in . he succeeded in persuading king solomon of imereti to acknowledge the tsar as his suzerain, but solomon soon began to intrigue with the turks again. after taking gandja by storm, and subduing a rising of the mountaineers under pharnavaz and iulon, sons of irakli, tsitsishvili marched against baku, where he was treacherously murdered by the khan of that city in . count gudovich was now appointed commander-in-chief, and his courtesy won for him the friendship of the georgian people. kakheti voluntarily submitted to his rule. he defeated the turks in several battles, but was unsuccessful in his attack on erivan, where he lost men. he was then recalled and made governor-general of moscow. general tormasov was the next ruler of georgia, and he continued the war against the turks, who were aided by king solomon of imereti. poti was taken in , and princess nina of mingreli, who was allied to the russians, herself led her troops to the assault. sukhum was also taken. king solomon was persuaded to go to a certain village in kartli to sign a treaty of peace with russia. the russians treacherously seized him by night, and carried him off to prison in tiflis, but he escaped in disguise, and fled to akhaltsikhe, where he was received by the turks with great honour. he returned to imereti, and the whole country rose in his favour. there were revolts in kakheti, and even among the ossets, but they were soon crushed by force of numbers. then came a plague which carried off vast numbers of victims in imereti. tormasov was replaced by paulucci, who, after a few months, was, in his turn, superseded by rtishtshef. in took place the famous storming of lenkoran, on the caspian, by general kotliarevski, followed by the gulistan treaty of peace, which was signed on behalf of persia by sir gore ouseley, british ambassador at teheran. king solomon died at trebizond in , and with him ended the troublous existence of imereti as an independent kingdom. in about three and a half centuries thirty kings had sat on the imeretian throne, twenty-two of them were dethroned (one of them, bagrat the blind, eight times), seven died a violent death, three were blinded. yermolov became governor-general in , and soon afterwards the chechens and daghestanians began to give the russians serious trouble. then the clergy raised a national movement in imereti, in which guri and apkhazi joined, and in mingreli, hitherto faithful, the dadian's brother revolted. all these efforts to shake off the russian yoke were, of course, fruitless, and they ended in with the capture of zakatali from the lesghians. then the cherkesses (circassians) broke into rebellion, and in persia again declared war against russia and marched , men into georgia. aided by the lesghians and the kakhetians, under alexander, son of irakli, they were at first successful, but the tide turned, and erivan, tavriz, and other places saw russia victorious. paskevich succeeded yermolov in , and the peace of turkmenchai having been concluded with persia, war was declared against turkey. the russians took kars, poti, akhalkalaki, akhaltsikhe, bayazid from the turks, and in the belligerents signed the treaty of adrianople. in kasi-mullah began his revolt, and brought about a general rising among the mahometan peoples of the caucasus. baron rosen, who took the command of the army in , captured gimri, and kasi-mullah was killed. golovin ( ), neidhart ( ), and prince vorontsov ( - ) enjoyed comparative peace, and were able to turn their attention to the internal condition of the country. prince vorontsov especially deserves credit for his honest and painstaking efforts to ameliorate the economic situation of georgia, and it flatters our national pride to remember that that statesman was english by birth and education, if not by blood. the pacification of daghestan did not, as was expected, follow the death of kasi-mullah. a greater prophet and warrior arose to take the place of the vanquished hero of gimri. shamil, after carrying on a guerilla warfare for about ten years, raised the whole of the eastern caucasus in , and continued to inflict a series of crushing defeats on the russian generals who were sent to oppose him. the declaration of war with turkey in raised the hopes of the lesghians, but the utter incapacity of the turkish leaders in armenia prevented the realization of those hopes. everybody is familiar with the incidents of shamil's career down to the capture at gunib in ; but it seems to me that too little attention has been devoted to the remarkable religious system which inspired the murids to their marvellous deeds of valour. it is surely a noteworthy fact that the mysticism of the sufis should have been found to be compatible with a purely militant faith like islam. during the last thirty years little of interest has happened in georgia. the appointment of the grand duke mikhail nikolaevich to the lieutenancy of the caucasus in , the gradual freeing of the serfs, the construction of railway and telegraph lines of communication, the founding of one or two banks, schools, and other establishments of public utility, are the chief events which the annalist has to chronicle. "free" svaneti was conquered a few years ago, and, for the present, russia's supremacy is undisputed as far as the frontiers of turkey and persia. even the last war between russia and turkey was not accompanied by any visible commotion among the peoples of the caucasus. there is as yet no history of georgia in the sense in which we now understand the word. those works which are dignified with the name are merely more or less trustworthy collections of materials, which in their present form produce only a feeling of bewilderment in the reader. we trust that a man worthy of the task will seriously take the annals of his nation in hand, and present them to the world in an intelligible form; and we also cherish the hope that he will not finish his task without being able to chronicle the new birth of a strong, independent state worthy to maintain the fame of irakli and tamara. the language and literature of georgia. the origin of the kartlian or kartvelian language is still involved in some doubt, but the general opinion of philologists seems to be that it does not belong to the indo-european family, although it has been powerfully influenced by zend, sanskrit, persian, and armenian. the ancient speech of the country is preserved to us in the ecclesiastical rituals and books of devotion, which are written in characters differing very considerably from the civil alphabet, the "war hand," the invention of the latter being ascribed to king pharnavaz i., a contemporary of alexander the great. the khutsuri, or ecclesiastical character, bears a striking resemblance to armenian; an excellent specimen of it may be seen in the british museum library, in the famous moscow bible of , recently purchased. the number of letters is the same in both alphabets, viz. thirty-eight, and the modern alphabet is as follows:-- a b g d e v z é (short) th (not english th but t followed by sound of h) i (english ee) c l m n i (short) o p zh r s t u (oo) vi (vee) ph (p followed by sound of h) k gh (guttural) _ (something like a guttural k) sh ch tz dz ts dch kh khh j h ho the orthography is purely phonetic. there is very little difference between the language of the sacred books and that of to-day, not nearly so much as between anglo-saxon and english; but many foreign words have been introduced in modern times. the earliest specimens of georgian literature which have come down to us are translations of the scriptures, and theological works written under the influence of the greek clergy, who, until the eleventh century, occupied almost all the high ecclesiastical offices in the land. in the eleventh and twelfth centuries of our era the relations between georgia and greece were of the most intimate character. the young nobles of the court of king david the renewer and his immediate successors frequented the schools of athens, and brought back with them platonic and aristotelian teachings which exerted a very powerful influence on the intellectual and social life of that period, and prepared the way for the golden age of georgian literature, which dawned on the accession of queen tamara. sulkhan orbeliani, in the preface to his dictionary, compiled early in the eighteenth century, says that he consulted translations of proklus, platonicus, nemesis, aristotle, damascenus, plato, porphyry, and many other greek writers. if these mss. were still extant, they might prove valuable to classical scholars. during the stormy times that soon followed, the countless lyrical pieces which were produced were nearly all lost, but the epic which is now looked upon as the greatest masterpiece in the language has escaped with but a few mutilations. this is "the man in the panther's skin" (vepkhvis tkaosani) by shota rustaveli. history tells us very little about shota rustaveli. we only know that he was born in the village of rustavi, near akhaltsikhe, that he received his education in athens, returned to his native land, where he wrote his great work, was secretary to queen tamara, then became a monk, and died in the monastery of the holy cross, near jerusalem, where his portrait may still be seen. tradition says that the poet was passionately enamoured of his royal mistress, and this assertion seems to be borne out by many passages in the poem. during nearly seven centuries of ceaseless struggles for freedom, the georgians have kept this great work fresh in their minds. it has inspired them with hope and courage in the darkest hours, and at the present day it is as great a favourite as it ever was. not only are many of its verses household words in cottage and hall, but there are not a few georgians, especially among the women, who know every word of it by heart; indeed, there was a time when no woman was allowed to marry unless she could repeat the whole poem. the reason for this extraordinary popularity is to be found in the fact that the poem is a thoroughly national one in its smallest details. although the heroes and heroines are described as arabians, indians, chinese, they are all georgians to the very finger tips. the plot is of the simplest description possible. rostevan, a patriarchal eastern king, who has renounced the throne of arabia in favour of his daughter tinatina, is out hunting one day with avtandil, one of his generals, when he sees a weeping youth of wondrous beauty, dressed in a panther's skin. the king orders his guards to seize the stranger, but the latter kills several of them and mysteriously escapes, whereupon the old king falls into a fit of sadness so deep that tinatina at length promises her hand to the knight who will satisfy her father's curiosity. avtandil sets out to seek the man in the panther's skin, wanders about for three years, meeting with wondrous adventures, before he finds the object of his search, who turns out to be tariel, a young knight enamoured of nestan daredjan, daughter of the king of india, and then returns to claim the hand of his queen. in avtandil we have a christian chevalier of the east who is worthy of comparison with our rolands and red cross knights, while tariel is a wild mussulman, whose passion drives him to excesses worthy of amadis of gaul. the interest is powerfully sustained all through the poem, and its dramatic unity is never lost sight of; yet, however interesting the narrative may be, it is chiefly as a picture of life in georgia in the days of tamara that "the man in the panther's skin" is valuable. tinatina, who is none other than tamara herself, is described as follows:-- "one daughter only had the aged king, and she was fair as is the eastern sun. he upon whom her gaze but once did rest was ravish'd of his heart and soul and thought." tinatina is a beautiful type of womanhood, such as we might expect to find in the literature of western europe, but hardly in a little country standing alone amid the wild hordes of asia. her wisdom, her strength of character, the purity and loyalty of her love, have made her the model of many a generation of rustaveli's countrywomen, who have ever behaved nobly alike in joy and sorrow. avtandil is thus portrayed:-- "a prince's son was avtandil, the very first 'mong all the bravest warriors of the aged king his form was slender as the cypress-tree, and clear and beauteous was his piercing glance. though young, his soul was true and strong as adamant is hard. the fire from tinatina's eyes had long set his young heart aflame with strong desire, and stricken him with wounds that never heal'd. many a day he hid his burning love, and sunder'd from his mistress, all the red fled from his roselike, tender cheeks; but soon as fate did bring him near to her again, the wildly beating heart crimson'd his face, and all his aching wounds did gape afresh. thus hidden love doth torture youthful breasts." from "the man in the panther's skin" we learn that the ideal hero of rustaveli's times was distinguished for bravery, truthfulness, loyalty to promises, self-sacrifice, munificence, and burning love. "falsehood's the root of all the thousand ills that curse our race. lying and faithlessness twin sisters are. why should i try to cheat my fellow-man? is this the use to which my learning should be put? ah, no! far other aims our hearts inspire, we learn, that we may near the angelic choir." the most famous line in the whole poem is, perhaps, the one which says:-- "a glorious death is better than a life of shame." and many a warrior has sought death, in the hour of defeat, with these words on his lips. another verse which has become proverbial is:-- "that which thou dost on other's wants bestow, is thine, while that thou hoardest is all lost to thee." the ideas of love expressed by rustaveli are partly of the ovidian type, without any of the indelicacy of the latin poet. but he had not studied plato for nought, and we see in his work traces of those metaphysical theories which s. bonaventura, dante, and many of their contemporaries and successors found in christianity. in the last strophe we have a prophecy, conscious or unconscious, of the evil days that were about to dawn. "their deeds are ended, like a dream at night. with them their golden age has ended too. far other days have dawn'd. such is that old deceiver time; he makes that which at first did everlasting seem as short as is the twinkling of an eye." as far as style is concerned, we find that rustaveli strikingly resembles the european writers of his own time, to wit the troubadours, and we can easily imagine that his career was not unlike that of some of those sweet singers who enjoyed the favour of the noble ladies of france and italy. among the great poets of europe, ariosto and tasso are, perhaps, the ones who are most akin to rustaveli. the platonism of the latter furnishes another ground of resemblance, in addition to the similarity of theme. the poem in its present form consists of about quatrains. there are sixteen syllables in each line, and the four lines end with the same rhyme. the rhythm is due to the accents, as in english verse, and may be called hexametric, i.e. there are in each line six feet, divided into two sets of three by means of the cæsura; the fourth line invariably begins with the particle i, which does not count as a syllable. as far as i know, the poem has not been translated into any european language; although fragments and abstracts of it have been published in russian and polish magazines, and i have seen the name of "rostavvelo" quoted in one of gioberti's works. by the publication of a carefully collated text, about a year ago, georgian critics have prepared the way for those who may wish to make the national epic known to european readers. among the contemporaries of rustaveli may be mentioned the following:-- chakhrukhadze, the author of the "tamariani," a long poem in honour of queen tamara; it is composed entirely of epithets, thus:-- "tamartsknari, shesatsknari, khmanarnari, pirmtsinari, mse mtsinari, sachinari, tskalimknari, momdinari," i.e. "tamara, the mild, the pleasing, the sweetly speaking, the kindly smiling, the sunlike shining one, the majestic, the gently moving, like a full river." shavteli was even more highly prized than rustaveli, but his greatest work is lost. khoneli and tmokveli, the former in "daredjaniani," the latter in "visramiani" and "dilariani," have left us romances of chivalry and adventure which are still much admired, and are well worthy of comparison with the best european literature of the same class. about the same time the national chronicle, called "kartlis tzkhovreba," i.e. georgia's life, was written. this period of literary activity was brought to an abrupt close by the terrible invasion of genghis khan, and for about four centuries the incessant wars in which the country was engaged gave plenty of opportunity for acting romances, but little time for writing them. towards the end of the seventeenth century prince sulkhan orbeliani described his "journey through europe," and wrote a collection of fables and folk-tales, lately published in russian. orbeliani had lived at the court of louis xiv., and was very friendly with la fontaine, who is indebted to the georgian prince for some of his fables. his greatest service to his country was, however, the compilation of a dictionary, containing , words, which has formed the basis for all later lexicographical works. in king vakhtang vi. opened a printing office in tiflis, and issued the chief poems and romances of the tamarian period at such a price as to make them attainable by all his subjects. irakli ii., of glorious memory, continued to act as the augustus of georgian literature, and in the catholicos antoni it found a mæcenas or pollio. the chief writers of the eighteenth century were prince vakhusht, son of vakhtang vi., who compiled a "history of georgia" and a "geography of georgia," and the catholicos antoni, who published many educational and religious works. guramoshvili and savatnava sang the triumphs of irakli in powerful lyrics which are still familiar to every peasant. the following serenade belongs to this period; it was copied down by pushkin in , and he says of it, "there is in it a certain oriental inconsequence which is not altogether devoid of poetical worth." "soul newly born in paradise! soul made for my delight! from thee, thou deathless one, i wait for life. from thee, thou flowery springtide, moon but two weeks old, from thee, my guardian angel, i wait for life. with joyous smiles thy face doth shine. i would not change thy glance against the throne of all the world. from thee i wait for life. rose of the mountain, wet with the dew of dawn! nature's chief favourite! hidden treasure house! from thee i wait for life." it was not, however, until the present century was well begun, that georgian poetry abandoned the "oriental inconsequence" to which i have just referred; the literary awakening which began about sixty or seventy years ago was largely due to the work of western poets, such as byron, with whom the georgians became familiar chiefly through pushkin and lermontov. prince alexander chavchavadze ( - ), a general in the russian service, was the founder of the modern school; his song is all of love and wine. the influence of western romanticism is still more clearly visible in the earlier productions of baratashvili ( - ), but he succeeded in throwing off the gloomy misanthropy of his youth, and had the courage to acknowledge that he had been deluded by that "evil spirit" of byronism. to prince giorgi eristavi fell the task of familiarizing his countrymen with the poetical literature of europe. he was exiled to poland for his share in a plot against the russian government, and spent his leisure in studying mickiewicz, schiller, petrarch, and pushkin, selections from whose works he published in his native tongue. on his return to tiflis he founded a national theatre, for which he himself wrote many comedies. with eristavi sentimentalism died, and the poets who succeeded him sought inspiration in patriotic ideals. prince grigor orbeliani ( - ), sang the past splendour of his fatherland, and bewailed the low estate to which it had fallen. in his "ode to tamara's portrait" he beseeches the great queen to look down with pity on georgia, and bless her sons with strength and wisdom; he despairingly asks:-- "shall that which once was wither'd, ne'er again enjoy the fragrance of its former bloom? shall that which fell, for ever fallen remain, o'erwhelm'd in an unchanging, cruel doom?" his lines on the death of irakli ii. breathe the same spirit:-- "ah! full of splendour were the fateful days that saw the quenching of thy quickening light, thou sun of georgia, yet thy dazzling rays still lighten up the darkness of our night. "thine all-o'erpowering sword, whose mighty blows scatter'd like chaff the bravest of the brave, shall never more affright thy country's foes-- georgia's fame lies buried in thy grave." orbeliani had a warm heart for the poor and suffering, and his "lopiana the fisherman" and "bokuladze the musha" (a musha is a carrier of heavy burdens) are masterpieces in their way. while orbeliani's eyes are ever turned regretfully to the past, akaki tsereteli (born ) looks hopefully forward to the future:-- "ah no! our love is not yet dead, it only sleeps awhile...." in elegant yet forcible lyrics he invites his countrymen to manfully follow the path of progress. tsereteli has written a great historical poem called "torniki," and is, besides, an orator and publicist of the first rank. of the same school is prince ilia chavchavadze (born ), who is in many respects the most remarkable man that georgia possesses. all his poems, and indeed all his work, whether as a poet, a novelist, a journalist, an orator, or a financier, breathe a spirit of the loftiest patriotism. the return of spring and the awakening of bird and flower to fuller life are to him a reminder of the long-delayed awakening of his beloved land; his elegies on the kura, the aragva, the alazana are all full of the same feeling. it is, however, in "lines to the georgian mother" that he most clearly expresses his ideas; after reminding the matrons of georgia how they have served their country in times past, cheerfully sending their sons forth to the fight and sustaining their courage in the hour of misfortune, he says:-- "... but why should we shed idle tears for glory that will ne'er return? the ever-flowing stream of years leaves us no time to idly mourn. "'tis ours to tread an untried path, 'tis ours the future to prepare. if forward thou dost urge thy sons, then answer'd is my earnest prayer. "this is the task that waits for thee, thou virtuous mother of our land, strengthen thy sons, that they may be their country's stay with heart and hand. "inspire them with fraternal love, freedom, equality and right, teach them to struggle 'gainst all ill, and give them courage for the fight." chavchavadze's tales and poems have done more than anything else to awaken the georgian people to a sense of the duties they have to perform in the altered conditions under which they now live. his poem, "memoirs of a robber," which portrayed the lazy country squires who lived on the toil of their serfs, made a powerful impression on the class it was meant for; and the tale, "is that a man?" which describes the life of a young noble who spends his whole time in eating, drinking, sleeping and folly, brought a blush to the faces of hundreds of his countrymen, and prompted them to seek a worthier mode of existence. at first, the more conservative part of the nobility were bitterly opposed to the radical ideas of chavchavadze, but he has now succeeded in bringing round the majority of them to his way of thinking. he is editor of a daily paper, iveria, which is read by all classes of society, and most of his time is spent between his journalistic duties and the management of the nobles' land bank, an institution founded for the relief of the farmers. besides those i have mentioned, chavchavadze has written many other works; with the following extract from "the phantom" i conclude this brief notice of him:-- "o georgia, thou pearl and ornament of the world. what sorrow and misfortune hast thou not undergone for the christian faith! tell me, what other land has had so thorny a path to tread? where is the land that has maintained such a fight twenty centuries long without disappearing from the earth? thou alone, georgia, couldst do it. no other people can compare with thee for endurance. how often have thy sons freely shed their blood for thee! every foot of thy soil is made fruitful by it. and even when they bowed under oppression they always bravely rose again. faith and freedom were their ideals." the novel of social life is represented by prince kazbek, a young and energetic writer, many of whose productions have appeared as serials in the newspapers. the best writer of historical novels is rtsheuli; his "queen tamara" is a great favourite with the people. the national theatre is kept well supplied with new and original comedies by tsagareli and others, and prince ivané machabeli, who, as far as i know, is the only georgian who can read english literature in the original, has translated some of shakspeare's plays; these always draw a full house, and are thoroughly appreciated. leaving out of the question "king lear," which has a special interest for the people, on account of its reminding them of irakli ii., this hearty admiration for shakspeare is somewhat remarkable; in my opinion it is to be explained by the fact that the georgian people are in almost the same state of intellectual and social development as were our forefathers in the days of queen elizabeth, and they can, therefore, the more fully enter into our great poet's way of thinking. besides the essential part of his work, the effect of which on the minds of men will always be the same, there is an accessory part, a tone, an atmosphere, which more particularly belongs to the early part of a period of transition from feudalism to freedom, from faith to rationalism, from the activity of war to the activity of peace; ten or a dozen generations have lived in england since this stage in our history was reached; in georgia there still live men who were born in the age of chivalry and adventure. prince machabeli, in spite of the fact that he is only about thirty years of age, is, perhaps, after prince ilia chavchavadze, the man who enjoys the greatest influence among his fellow-countrymen. his studies at the university of paris, and his intimate acquaintance with the intellectual and social life of europe, have enabled him to bring the younger generation at least to a fuller appreciation of the superiority of the west over the east; everything which savours of asia is now rigidly proscribed or ridiculed, and romano-germanic ideals prevail. as the editor of droeba (time), a capital daily paper, machabeli had an opportunity of spreading his opinions throughout the country, but an imprudent article brought about the suppression of the journal by the censure. this notice would be incomplete without a brief reference to the venerable bishop gabriel of kutais, whose homilies are at once elegant in style and simple in doctrine; they have had a very powerful influence on the georgian people, and their author is sincerely loved by all his countrymen. an english translation of his earlier sermons has been published by the rev. s. c. malan. the popular literature of georgia is rich in folk-tales, fables, ballads, riddles, &c., and would well repay an attentive study (v. bibliography). the political condition of the kingdom of georgia. it is well known that there are within the russian frontiers peoples not inferior in historical importance or intellectual development to the regnant race, and we might reasonably suppose that russophobes would give us some information about those nations which would probably be their allies in the struggle which they profess to consider inevitable. yet the course of action likely to be adopted by poland, finland, or georgia, in case of an anglo-russian war, is hardly ever discussed, and when a passing reference is made to the matter, the most erroneous ideas are expressed. as far as i know, the only living english statesman who knows anything at all about the condition of the caucasus, is professor james bryce, who, in a work published in , records the impressions received during a short visit made in the previous year. his remarks are interesting in the highest degree, and exhibit a rare keenness of insight; yet that part of them which refers more particularly to georgia is open to three very serious objections. . the shortness of the author's stay forced him to come to conclusions which a longer experience would have modified very considerably. he himself frankly acknowledged this in many places. . mr. bryce did not come into contact with any prominent georgians; he was, therefore, obliged to depend upon foreigners for information about the political condition of the country and the aspirations of the native population. this is why he said so little about georgia in the last chapter of his book. in that chapter the place of honour is reserved for the armenians, whose recognized champion our illustrious fellow-countryman has now become. . there has, of late, been a great change in the country. the georgia of to-day is not the georgia of . certain causes, which will be touched upon in the present article, have, in the meantime, brought about an awakening as sudden as it is complete. there is one englishman who could accurately describe the political condition of transcaucasia, and it is a subject for congratulation that he is her majesty's vice-consul at batum. when the british government wakes up to a recognition of the fact that we have interests to protect in the region between the black sea and the caspian, the consulate in tiflis (abolished in , "because the objects for which it was founded were not accomplished") may, perhaps, be re-established, and in that case no more able and sympathetic consul could be chosen than mr. d. r. peacock, who for so many years has upheld the honour of our flag in the fever-stricken swamps of poti and batum. the writer of the present article is well aware of his unfitness for the task he has set himself, yet he feels sure that the result of his unprejudiced observation cannot fail to be interesting; if he only succeeds in provoking adverse criticism he will be satisfied, for thereby attention will be drawn to a question the discussion of which must lead to a far better understanding of many points of vital importance. at the very outset it is necessary to remove from the mind of the reader an opinion which is almost universally held in europe, and which is, perhaps, the chief cause of that apathy with which politicians look upon the caucasus. it is generally believed, even by some of those who have been in the country, that transcaucasia is inhabited by a vast number of tribes, more or less wild, having nothing in common but the doubtful benefits of russian rule. nothing could be more misleading. students of ethnography may amuse themselves by making elaborate investigations into the origin and characteristics of the khevsur, the svan, the pshav, the osset, it is sufficient for us to know that all these peoples are, politically at least, georgians, and have fought under the kartvelian kings since the days of william the conqueror. between the caucasus, the black sea, the caspian, and the frontiers of turkey and persia, there are only three native peoples who deserve our consideration, viz.:-- the various lesghian tribes in the e., numbering about , , the armenians, in the s., numbering about , the georgians, in the w., numbering over , , the latter total is made up as follows:-- (a) kartlians, kakhetians, and ingiloitsi , (b) highlanders, i.e. khevsurs, pshavs, tushes , (c) imeretians and gurians , (d) adjartsi, kobuletsi (in valleys near artvin) , (e) mingrelians , (f) lazes (near batum). the majority are still in turkey , (g) svans , to these may be added:-- the apkhazi (near sukhum) , and the ossets (south of the caucasus) , there are also many georgians in turkey, and a few in persia. the numerous local appellations given above mean no more than yorkshireman, cornishman, or aberdonian do to us. if i succeed in impressing upon my readers the fact that there is a politically homogeneous region stretching from the steppe of baku to the black sea, my labour will not have been fruitless. it is a significant fact that the pure georgian language is now far more generally spoken than it has been for many centuries, and that the dialects are rapidly disappearing. this is due in a great measure to the growth of a taste for literature, which is fostered by the newspapers and other periodical publications. there are, besides, many schools where the language is taught, for the georgians have hitherto escaped the fate of the armenians, whose schools were closed after the recent insurrection, and a society exists in tiflis for the dissemination of the national literature among the peasants. all this has helped to produce a national feeling, stronger than any that has existed since the fatal partition of the kingdom in the fifteenth century. the petty jealousies between kartlian, kakhetian and imeretian have been forgiven and forgotten, and when georgia's voice is again heard in asia she will speak with that authority which belongs only to a united, patriotic people. in order to understand the state of political feeling in georgia during the present century, it is necessary to remember what her previous history has been. during a long period, stretching back to ages of which we have only fragmentary records, the country had ever been at war; often conquered, still more often conquering, never crushed, this brave little state maintained its existence for a thousand years, alone in the very midst of those fierce fanatics whose fame made all allied europe quake. at length, rent by civil war and ravaged by the infidel, it wisely resolved to throw itself into the hands of a christian power able and willing to protect and avenge. after availing themselves of russia's help, it was but natural that the georgians should seek the repose of which they were so much in need; and, though they were ever ready to fight against the common foe, yet, with a few praiseworthy exceptions, they busied themselves little with the internal administration of their land. indeed, there was no call for such interference as long as they were under the mild and beneficent rule of that ideal tsar, alexander i., represented by such worthy lieutenants as tsitsishvili and yermolov. they continued to live thus contentedly and, it must be confessed, lazily for about two generations; only ten years ago it used to be said in tiflis, "if you see a shopkeeper asleep, he is sure to be a georgian." this sleepiness is now at an end. opinions may differ as to the cause of the awakening; harsh measures on the part of russia, whose policy in transcaucasia has been becoming more and more irritating ever since the removal of prince vorontsov, in , and culminating last year in the enforcement of military service, have undoubtedly had some effect of this kind, but unless there had been a simultaneous progress in the intellectual and social development of the nation, this overbearing legislation might have been sullenly submitted to without complaint. there can be little doubt of the fact that the excessive precautions taken by the police, with a view to put down political agitation of any kind, have produced the very thing they are intended to prevent. a country squire in talking to me, one day, about a little market-town near his home, said, "they have posted a gendarme there. until he came nobody ever bothered about politics. now there is nothing else talked of." some time ago the young georgian nobles who were serving in the russian army became infected with the doctrines of revolutionary socialism, and not a few suffered for their imprudence (e.g. the famous tsitsianov, in ); at the present time the national feeling has become so strong as to leave no room for these ideas. nevertheless, during my stay in tiflis, last summer, a rumour was rife to the effect that a large number (a hundred or two) of young noblemen were about to be exiled, in view of the visit of the tsar, who was expected to arrive at his new palace at tsinondal, near telav, in the autumn. the fact that this report was believed by the parties interested, is a powerful testimony to the arbitrary character of the proceedings of the russian police. in the rural districts the people only know russia as a foreign power that sends them tax-collectors, justices of the peace, and other civil servants, who perform obnoxious functions in a manner not calculated to conciliate the ratepayers. it is notorious that the chinovnik has an unpleasant reputation, even among his fellow-countrymen, and those who consent to a temporary exile in transcaucasia are not precisely the flower of the profession, although their behaviour to europeans leaves little to be desired. the justices of the peace, as in poland, are directly appointed by the minister of justice at petersburg; all the evidence has to be translated into the official language, and this accentuates the natural feeling of the litigants that they are being tried by foreign laws arbitrarily imposed from without. the personal character of the judges is, in many cases, not such as to inspire respect for the law; the arrogant, bullying tone of these personages is intolerable at any time, but especially when aggravated by alcoholism. i shall never forget one scene in particular at which i was present; a fine, tall mountaineer came humbly to present a petition to a puny, besotted judge, who was a guest at the house where i was staying; the representative of law and order was drunk, hopelessly drunk, and treated the suppliant in such a manner that i blushed to be in his company; i feared that the petitioner would take summary revenge for the insult, but he restrained his wrath; as he turned away there was on his face a look of hellish hatred, and i do not think that he will trouble the court again as long as he has a sharp kinjal of his own wherewith to settle disputes. whatever may be the cause of the awakening, there cannot be any doubt of its reality. nevertheless, it is hard to give any definite description of the channels into which the national activity is finding its way. in any case it may be safely said that the georgian people are not likely to imitate the imprudent conduct of their neighbours the armenians, who have, more than once, unseasonably provoked popular movements which they had not the power to bring to a happy issue. the character of the georgians is too frank and open for the hatching of plots; however strong their feelings may be, they know how to wait until an opportunity arrives for the satisfaction of those feelings; the perfect unanimity in the aims of the people renders an elaborate organization unnecessary. it is interesting to notice that the political ideals of the country are borrowed from western europe. excepting in japan, perhaps, there is no such instance of a people passing directly from feudalism to liberalism. the grandsons of absolute monarchs, the men who little more than a quarter of a century ago were large slaveholders, are now ardent champions of the democratic idea, and loudly proclaim the freedom, the equality, the brotherhood, of prince and peasant, master and man. this is not the only case in which georgia has turned her back on asia and opened her arms to europe--parisian fashions, german rationalism, english sport and other products of our civilization are beginning to have an influence; however, it is a consolation to remember that the women, in every country the more conservative and, at the same time, more patriotic half of the community, may be counted upon to restrain their husbands and sons from a too hasty advance in the slippery paths of modern progress. it must not be supposed that the georgian people are forgetful of what russia has done for them in protecting them against persia and turkey; they have no hatred for their slav fellow-subjects, indeed, it is hard to imagine how any one could dislike such an amiable individual as the average russian, not being an official; but on the other hand, it must be remembered that this military aid is the only benefit georgia has ever received. it is true that roads have been made, but their construction was only undertaken in order to facilitate the movement of troops, and they are practically worthless for the purposes of trade. the industrial and commercial development of the country has been wholly neglected; and, at the instigation of the late editor of the moscow news, the transit of foreign merchandise was prohibited. at the present time a few russian capitalists are endeavouring to get a footing beyond the caucasus, but they experience some difficulty in doing so, for the georgians prefer to avail themselves of the services of european investors; among others, the rothschilds have not been slow to see that transcaucasian wines, ores and oils are worth attention. should russia ever become involved in a great war, georgia would undoubtedly declare her independence, and endeavour to seize the dariel road; the armenians and lesghians would also revolt, each in their own way. it is idle to speculate as to the result of such a movement, but it may interest the reader to know that it took an army of more than a quarter of a million men to conquer the lesghians alone, in the time of shamil. the russians put so little confidence in the loyalty of their caucasian army, that they took care to send a large part of it to poland in january last, when there seemed to be a prospect of war with austria. this was a prudent measure; but, after all, it does not matter so very much whether georgian soldiers mutiny in georgia or poland, poles in poland or georgia, the essential point at which diplomats hostile to russia would aim is, of course, to bring about perfectly simultaneous action on the part of all the enemies of that power, both at home and abroad. it is superfluous to add that the georgian troops are the flower of the russian army; every schoolboy can ride and shoot like a trained man; their officers are especially good, and there are at present many generals who are worthy successors of andronikov, bagration and loris melikov. the sympathy with which the armenian national movement has been regarded in western europe encourages the georgians to hope that a like feeling will be manifested towards them when the time is ripe for action. it is especially upon england that their hopes are fixed, for they are well aware of the fact that the existence of a strong, independent state between the black sea and the caspian would be an enormous advantage to our country. the possibility of armenians, georgians and lesghians consenting to combine into one homogeneous state is not to be thought of; but there is no reason why the descendants of the three sons of targamos, great-great-grandson of noah, should not, if they were free, form a defensive alliance for the protection of common interests; the lesghians have, in past times, done good service against both persians and turks. in any case, georgia has a frontier which she is quite able to defend, and she could always count upon the assistance of the mountaineers on the northern side of the caucasus. the cherkesses (circassians), whose hatred of russia is well known, have almost all migrated to asia minor. it is sincerely to be hoped that the present good feeling between the georgian and russian peoples may continue. if they were kindly treated, and trusted with some measure of local government, i am sure that the christian peoples of the caucasus would never cause the tsar's ministers any trouble; but if an attempt be made to crush the national spirit, the descendants of the men who fought under irakli will, at least, show despots how men can die. appendix. bibliography. the standard work on transcaucasian bibliography is miansarov (m.), bibliographia caucasica et transcaucasica. s. pbg., - , vo, pp., refs. it is rather scarce, as the edition was limited to copies. only one volume has been published, although a second was promised. most of the works mentioned are in russian or armenian, and as far as european publications are concerned, miansarov is very incomplete. in the following pages i have referred to comparatively few russian books. after miansarov, the following, among many others, may with advantage be consulted:-- catalogue de la section des russica, published by bibl. imp. publ. de st. pbg., . vols. vo. semenov (p.), geografichsko-statistichskii slovar rosiiskoi imperii. pbg., - . vols. to. stuckenberg (j. ch.), versuch eines quellen-anzeigers ... fuer das studium der geographie ... des russischen reichs. pbg., - . vols. vo. i am fully conscious of the shortcomings of this essay, and shall be glad to find it extended and corrected by later writers, to whom it may serve as a groundwork. works of special interest are marked *. geography, travels, and miscellaneous literature. * brosset (m. f.), description géographique de la géorgie par le tsarévitch wakhoucht. texte géorgien suivi d'une traduction française. avec cartes lith. s. pbg. acad. scient., . to. wakhoucht wrote to the local authorities all over the country, asking each for information about his own district; the present standard work was the result of his inquiries. ancient geography. cf. apollonius rhodius, strabo, plinius, arrianus, ptolemæus, c. rommel's caucasiarum regionum et gentium straboniana descriptio. lipsiæ, . vo. luenemann (g. h.), descriptio caucasi. lipsiæ, . to. carli (joh. rinaldi), de expeditione argonautorum in colchidem. venet., . vols. to. vivien de st. martin (louis), mémoire historique sur la géographie ancienne du caucase. paris, . ---- ----, etude géographique sur le caucase de strabon. in etudes de géogr. anc. paris, . preller (e.), bedeutung des schwarzen meeres fuer die handel und verkehr der alten welt. dorpat, . vo. mediæval geography. stephanus byzantinus, massudi, abulfeda. defrémery, fragments de géographes et d'historiens arabes et persans inédits, relatifs aux anciens peuples du caucase. in nouv. journ. asiat., - . paris. rubruquis ( ) in navigantium atque itinerantium bibliotheca, by john harris, d.d., continued by j. campbell. vols. in fol. london, . in this collection will be found other records of travel in georgia. barbaro (josafat), viaggio alla tana e nella persia ( ). in ramusio's raccolta di viaggi. venetia, . contarini (ambroise), voyage de perse ( ). in bergeron's collection de voyages. paris, . sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. hakluyt (richd.), the principall navigations, voiages, and discoveries of the english nation in ... the empire of russia, the caspian sea, georgia ... london, . fol. also . vols. fol. new edition, london, - . to. jenkinson (anthony), early voyages and travels to russia and persia, by a. j. and other englishmen (in reign of queen elizabeth). hakluyt soc. london, . vols. vo. zampi (giuseppe maria), relatione della cholchida. . lamberti (arcangelo), relatione della cholchida, hoggi detta mengrellia, nella quale si tratta dell' origine, costumi e cose naturali di quei paesi. nd edition. napoli, . to. olearius (adam), the voyages and travels of the ambassadors sent by frederick, duke of holstein, to the great duke of muscovy and the king of persia ... in - . translated from the dutch by j. davies. london, . vols. fol. dapper (olfert), asia ... beneffens en volkome beschryving van geheel persie, georgie, mengrelie en andere gebuur-gewesten. amsterdam, . fol. ----, german edition. nuernberg. translated by beern. vols. fol. . novikov, drevnaya rossiiskaya biblioteka. s. pbg., . vo. for travels of russian ambassadors to georgia in seventeenth century. moreri (ludvig), relations nouvelles du levant, ou traité de la religion, du gouvernement et des coutumes des perses, des arméniens et des gaures. lyon, . mo. bruin (c. de) (dutch painter), voyages au levant. delft, . fol. ---- ----, voyages dans la moscovie et la perse. amsterdam, . vols. fol. and paris, . vols. to. struys (jean), voyages en muscovie, en tatarie, en perse, etc. amsterdam, . vols. mo. tavernier, six voyages ... en perse ( - ). rouen, . chardin (sir john), the travels of sir john chardin into persia. london, . fol. vols. tournefort (pitton de), rélation d'un voyage du levant, contenant l'histoire ancienne et moderne de ... l'arménie, de la géorgie ... paris and lyon, . vols. to. amsterdam, . english edition, london, . dutch edition, amsterdam, . evliya (effendi), travels in europe, asia, and africa in the seventeenth century. translated from the turkish by j. von hammer. london, . eighteenth century. lerch (joh. jacob), zweite reise nach persien. in buesching's magazin. . reineggs (jacob), beschreibung des kaukasus. gotha, - . vo. and some other works. sketches in pallas's nordische beitraege, etc. a general, historical, and topographical description of mount caucasus. translated by ch. wilkinson. london, . (reineggs was a diplomatic agent of the russian court, and induced the ossets to submit, besides preparing the way for the annexation of georgia.) gueldenstaedt (joh. ant.), geografichskoie i statistichskoie opisanié gruzii (geographical and statistical description of georgia). s. pbg., . vo. ---- ----, reisen nach georgien und imerethi, ausg. von j. von klaproth. berlin, . vo. ---- ----, beschreibung der kaukasischen laender, ausg. von j. von klaproth. berlin. . vo. peyssonnel (french consul in smyrna), traité sur le commerce de la mer noire. paris, . vols. vo. memoir of a map of the countries comprehended between the black sea and the caspian; with an account of the caucasian nations, and vocabularies of their languages. london, . to. howell, journal of the passage from india through armenia, &c. wilford (francis), on mount caucasus. in asiatic researches. london, . potocki (jean), voyage dans les steps d'astrakhan et du caucase (in ) publié par klaproth. paris, . vo. voyages historiques et géographiques dans les pays situés entre la mer noire et la mer caspienne. paris, . biberstein (maréchal de), tableau des provinces situées sur la côte occidentale de la mer caspienne, entre les fleuves térek et kour. s. pbg., . to. mémoires historiques et géographiques sur les pays situés entre la mer noire et la mer caspienne. paris, . to. natolien, georgien ... in historischer, geographischer ... politischer hinsicht. berlin and leipzig, . vo. nineteenth century. zass (de), description du caucase, avec le précis historique et statistique de la géorgie. s. pbg., . vo. langen (jacob), opisanié kavkaza s kratkim istorichskim i statistichskim opisaniem gruzii (description of the caucasus, with a short historical and statistical description of georgia). translated from the french of j. l. s. pbg., . rommel (v. c.), die voelker des kaukasus. weimar, . lagorio, extrait du journal d'un voyage en mingrélie. in annales des voyages. paris, . ----, bemerkungen ueber mingrelien. in minerva. . clarke (e. d.), voyages en russie etc., trad. de l'anglais. paris, . vols. vo. i have not seen the english original. morier (john), journey through persia. london, . to. ---- ----, second journey through persia ... with an account of the embassy of sir gore ouseley. london, . to. kinneir, geographical memoir of the persian empire, interspersed with an account of manners and customs. london, . to. ----, journey through asia minor, armenia, &c. london, . vo. colchis oder mingrelien. in hormayr's archiv. . drouville, voyage en perse. s. pbg., . vols. vo. with atlas. freygang (wilhelm and frederica), lettres sur le caucase et la géorgie. hambourg, . vo. engelhardt (moritz von) and parrot (friedr.), reise in die krymm und den kaukasus. berlin, . parrot also wrote reise nach ararat. berlin, . translated by w. d. cooley, london, n.d. vo. kotzebue (moritz von), reise nach persien im jahre . johnson (john), a journey from india to england through persia, georgia.... london, . to. ker-porter (sir robt.), travels in georgia, persia, armenia, ancient babylonia, &c., during the years - . london, . vols. to. lumsden (thos.), a journey from merut in india to london, through arabia, persia, armenia, georgia.... london, . vo. gamba (jacques francois), voyage dans la russie méridionale, et particulièrement dans les provinces situées au-delà du caucase, fait depuis jusqu'en . with an atlas. tom. paris, . vo. lyall (robt.), travels in russia, the crimea, and georgia. london, . vols. vo. asiatic journal. london. former and present state of the road over mount caucasus, ; visit to the caucasian wall, ; the caucasian nations, ; and other articles. bronievskii, puteshestvié na kavkazié (journey in the caucasus). moskva, . vols. vo. henderson, biblical researches and travels in russia, including ... the passage of the caucasus. london, . vo. halen (d. juan van), dos años en rusia. valencia, . vo. also mémoires. paris and bruxelles, . vols. vo. ----, narrative of d. juan van halen's imprisonment ... his campaign with the army of the caucasus. translated from the spanish. london, . vols. vo. another edition in . klaproth (julius von), voyage au mont caucase. paris, . vo. ----, extraits d'une topographie de la géorgie. paris, n. d. vo. and several other works. seristori (comte), notes sur les provinces russes au-delà du caucase. odessa, . vetter (j. c. w.), meine reise nach grusien. leipzig, . rottiers, itinéraire de tiflis à constantinople. bruxelles, . jaeger (b.), reise von st. petersburg in die krim und die laender des kaukasus. leipzig, . vo. pushkin (a. s.), puteshestvié v erzerum (journey to erzerum). . lermontov (m. y.), geroi nashevo vremeni (a hero of our times). - . kupfer, voyage dans les environs du mont elbrous. s. pbg. acad. scient., . jaeger (b.), versuch einer darstellung des natuerlichen reichthums ... der russischen laender jenseit des kaukasus. leipzig, . vo. marigny (e. t. de), portulan de la mer noire. odessa, . guibal (paul), industrie et économie des abazes in courrier de la nouvelle russie. dec., . odessa. armstrong (t. b.), travels in russia and turkey.... itinerary through ... georgia. london, . vo. budberg (leonh., freiherr von), galerie der neuesten reisen von russen durch russland. s. pbg., . l. s. (cte.) (? seristori), notes statistiques sur le littoral de la mer noire. vienne, . vo. pp. nouv. annales des voyages. paris. many articles. nouv. journal asiatique. paris. description géographique du ghouria. . and many other articles. annalen der erdkunde. blick auf georgien. . georgien und seine umgebung. . and other articles. eichwald (carl eduard von), reise auf dem caspischen meere und in den caucasus. stuttgard, - . bde. vo. a scientific work. mignan, journal of a tour through georgia.... asiatic society. bombay, . smith (eli) and dwight (h.), missionary researches in armenia, including a journey ... into georgia. london, . vo. conolly (arthur), journey to the north of india overland. london, . vols. vo. famin (césar), region caucasienne in univers pittoresque. paris, n. d. vo. caucasien in weltgemaeldegallerie. stuttgard, . vo. hammer (joseph von), schwarzes meer. wien, . evetskii (orest), statistichskoé opisanié kavkaza (statistical description of the caucasus). s. pbg., . obozrenie russkikh vladenii za kavkazom (description of the russian possessions beyond the caucasus). s. pbg., . vols. vo. an official publication. zubov, kartina kavkazskavo kraya (picture of the caucasian land). s. pbg., - . vols. vo. ----, shest pisem o gruzii i kavkazié (six letters about georgia and the caucasus). moskva, . vo. besse, voyage en crimée, au caucase, etc. paris, . vo. belanger (ch.), voyage aux indes par ... la géorgie. paris, . vo. with atlas. spencer (edm.), travels in the western caucasus. london, . vols. vo. fragmens de lettres écrites de tiflis en géorgie. in bibl. univ. de genève, . wilbraham (capt. richard), travels in the transcaucasian provinces. london, . vo. *dubois de montpéreux (frédéric), voyage autour du caucase. paris, - . tom. vo. a well-written work. i am indebted to dubois for many bibliographical notes. the same author published an atlas in five parts in folio, neuchatel, , to illustrate his book (part , ancient geography; part , picturesque views; part , architecture; part , archeology; part , geology). hamilton (walter), researches in asia minor, armenia, &c. london, . vols. vo. southgate, horatio. narrative of a tour through armenia. new york, . mo. samuel (j.), the remnant found, or the place of israel's hiding discovered ... the result of personal investigation during a missionary tour in georgia. london, . vo. teule (jul. c.), pensées ... extraites du journal des mes voyages dans ... les provinces russes, géorgiennes et tartares du caucase.... paris, . vols. vo. hommaire de hell, voyage à la mer caspienne. paris, . vols. cameron (geo. poulett), personal adventures and excursions in georgia. london, . vols. vo. cf. united service journal. london, - . hagemeister, zakavkazskie ocherki (transcaucasian sketches). s. pbg., . vo. novie (new) do. do. s. pbg., . joselian (plato), opisanié shiomgvimskoi pustini v gruzii (description of the desert of shiomgvim in georgia). tiflis, . mo. ---- ----, puteviya zapiski po kakhetii (travel notes from kakheti). tiflis, . mo. suzannet (cte. de), souvenirs de voyage. les provinces du caucase. paris, . vo. danilevskii (n.), kavkaz i evo gorskie zhiteli (the caucasus and its mountaineers). moskva, . vo. ---- ----, der kaukasus. physisch-geographisch, statistisch, ethnographisch und strategisch. leipzig, . vo. kolenati, die ersteigung des kasbek. in russ. archiv. s. pbg., . wagner (moritz), reise nach kolchis und nach den deutschen kolonien jenseits des kaukasus. leipzig, . vo. and der kaukasus und das land der kosaken. te. ausg. leipzig, . bde. vo. translated into english as travels in persia, georgia, and koordistan. london, . vols. vo. *stackelberg (count ernst von), le caucase pittoresque, dessiné d'après nature par le prince g. gagarine; avec une introduction et un texte explicatif par le comte e. s. paris, - . fol. *---- ----, scènes, paysages, moeurs et costumes du caucase, dessinés d'après nature par le prince g. gagarine, et accompagnés d'un texte par le comte e. s. paris, , etc. fol. bodenstedt (fr.), tausend und ein tag im orient. berlin, . vols. vo. marmier (x.), du danube au caucase. paris, . vo. haxthausen (august, baron v.), transcaucasia. translated into english by j. e. taylor. london, . vo. golovine (ivan), the caucasus. london, . vo. spencer (edm.), turkey, russia, the black sea. london, . vo. thuemmel (a. r.), bunte bilder aus dem kaukasus. nuernberg, - . vols. vo. borozdin (k. a.), zakavkazskiya vospominaniya. mingrelia i svanetia s do g. s. pbg. *dumas (alexandre), le caucase. paris, . to. a charming book. gille (f.), lettres sur le caucase.... paris, . vo. cf.-- bocage (v. a. b. du), rapport fait à la société de géographie. paris, . vo. chodzko (general), die neuesten hoehenmessungen im kaukasus. in petermann's mittheilungen. gotha, . ---- ----, die russischen aufnahmen im kaukasus. ibid., . moynet, voyage à la mer caspienne et à la mer noire. in charton's "tour du monde," . er. sém. paris. blanchard, voyage de tiflis à stavropol. in charton's "tour du monde," . er. sém. paris. lapinskii (t.), die bergvoelker des kaukasus. hamburg, . vols. vo. bianchi (a. de), "viaggi in armenia ... e lazistan. milano, . vo. ruepprecht, barometrische hoehenbestimmungen im caucasus, - . in mém. de l'acad. de sc. s. pbg., . bergé (adolphe), voyage en mingrélie. paris, . vo. ussher (john), a journey from london to persepolis; including wanderings in ... georgia. london, . vo. stebnitzky, uebersicht der kaukasischen statthalterschaft. in petermann's mittheil. gotha, . petzholdt, der kaukasus. leipzig, . vols. vo. *radde (dr. gustav, curator of caucasian museum, and corresponding member of r.g.s., london), bericht ueber die biologisch-geographischen untersuchungen in den kaukasus-laendern. tiflis, . to. ---- ----, reisen und forschungen im kaukasus im . in petermann's mittheil. gotha, . to. ---- ----, vier vortraege ueber dem kaukasus. ibid., . ---- ----, die drei langenhochthaeler imeritiens. tiflis. ---- ----, das kaukasische museum in tiflis. in jahresbericht des vereins fuer erdkunde. dresden, . ---- ----, die chews'uren und ihr land. cassel, . vo. abich (hermann), geologische beobachtungen auf reisen in den gebirgslaendern zwischen kur und araxes. tiflis, . to. and other geological works. becker (a.), reise nach dem kaukasus. moskau, . vo. schlotheim, vier monate in grusien. hermansburg, . vo. favre, notes sur quelques glaciers de la chaîne du caucase. in bibl. universelle de génève, janv., . vereschaguine (basile), voyage dans les provinces du caucase. in charton's "tour du monde." paris, . to. *freshfield (douglas w.), travels in the central caucasus and bashan. london, . vo. contains an account of the famous ascent of mkhinvari (mt. kazbek). cf. mr. freshfield's lecture before the royal geographical society, london, march , . cunynghame (a.), travels in the eastern caucasus. london, . vo. mounsey (aug. h.), a journey through the caucasus. london, . vo. lyons (f. a.), adventures in lazistan. in bates's illustrated travels. london, . dilke (ashton), an article on transcaucasia in the fortnightly review. london, . grove (f. c.), the frosty caucasus. london, . vo. (account of ascent of elbruz in .) bunbury (e. h.), art. caucasus in encyc. brit. vol. v. . thielmann (baron max von), journey in the caucasus. translated by dr. c. hemeage. london, . vols. in . vo. ernouf, le caucase, le perse et la turquie d'asie. d'après la relation de m. le baron de thielmann. paris, . vo. schneider, vorlaeufiger bericht ueber im laufe des sommers in transkaukasien ausgefuehrte reisen. in "isis." . fuchs (p.), ethnologische beschreibung der osseten. in "ausland." . bernoville (raphael), la souanétie libre. illustr. paris, . to. also notes d'un voyage au caucase. in revue catholique de bordeaux, oct. . telfer (j. b., commander r.n.), the crimea and transcaucasia. london, . vols. vo. *bryce (prof. james), transcaucasia and ararat. london, . vo. bakradse (d.), das tuerkische grusien. aus d. russischen uebers. v. n. v. seidlitz. in russ. revue. . call (g. v.), eisenbahnen im kaukasus. in oesterr. monatsschrift fuer d. orient. wien, . kohn (a.), kaukasien und seine bewohner. in "grenzboten." . reisen im kaukasus gebiet. in "ausland." . travels in the caucasus. in edinburgh review. january, . cole (g. r. f.), transcaucasia. in fraser's magazine. december, . schweizer-lerchenfeld (a. v.), lazistan und die lazen. in monatsschrift fuer d. orient. wien, . karsten (k.), natur- und kulturbilder aus transkaukasien. in "aus allen welttheilen." . smirnow (m.), aperçu sur l'ethnographie du caucase. in revue d'anthropologie. paris, . kaukasische skizzen. in russ. revue. s. pbg., . art. georgia in encyc. brit. vol. x. . only remarkable for its typographical errors. vivien de saint-martin (louis), nouveau dictionnaire de géographie universelle. paris, . to. art. caucase and géorgie. also his nouv. annales des voyages. serena (mme. carla), articles in charton's "tour du monde." paris. to. iméréthi, . mingrélie, . kakhétie, . samourzakan, abkasie, . seidlitz (n. v.), die voelker des kaukasus. in russische revue. . vide also petermann's mittheilungen and russ. revue passim. reclus (elisée), nouvelle géographie universelle. paris, t. vi., . to. morrison (m. a.), caucasian nationalities. in journal of royal asiatic society. london, . wolley (clive phillips, formerly british vice-consul at kertch). sport in the crimea and caucasus. london, . vo. ---- ----, savage svanêtia. vols. london, . vo. koch (c.), wanderungen im oriente. weimar, - . vols. vo. ---- ----, die kaukasische militaerstrasse. leipzig, . vo. ---- ----, nachklaenge orientalischer wanderungen. erfurt, . vo. koechlin-schwartz (a.), un touriste au caucase. paris, . mo. bayern (fr.), contribution à l'archéologie du caucase. lyon, . wanderer (an english officer), notes on the caucasus. london, . vo. sobolsky (w.), spuren primitiver familienordnungen bei den kaukasischen bergvoelkern. in russ. revue. . vladikin, putevoditel po kavkazu (guide to the caucasus). moskva, . vols. vo. chantre (ernest), recherches anthropologiques dans le caucase. paris and lyon, . vols. to. erckert (r. von), der kaukasus und seine voelker. leipzig, . vo. ethnography. kovalevskii, customs of the ossetes. in journ. r. asiat. soc., july, . translated by e. delmar morgan, m.r.a.s. kavkaz, spravochnaya kniga. tiflis, . mo. weidenbaum (e.), putevoditel po kavkazu (guide to the caucasus). tiflis, . an official publication. a good guide on the principle of those of murray is much wanted, but murray's guide to russia, th edition, , gives very little information about the caucasus. *sbornik svdenii o kavkazié, tiflis, vols., to, beginning , contains a mass of interesting and useful information. vol. i. . monograph on the ossets, by pfaff. collection of georgian, armenian, and tatar proverbs, &c.--vol. ii. . statistical and economic condition of the ossets, by pfaff. serfdom in georgia at the beginning of the present century by kalantarov. railway routes to india.--vol. iii. . exhaustive treatise on viniculture in the caucasus.--vol. iv. and v. - . statistics.--vol. vi. . tiflis according to the census of march , . also contains a brief historical account of the city.--vol. vii. . and vols. viii. and ix. . statistics. *sbornik materialov dlya opisaniya myestnostei i plemen kavkaza. the sixth volume was published in tiflis this year. for archeology vide-- akti of the kavkazskaya arkhéografichskaya kommissiya of tiflis, from . in fol. also the zapiski and izvestiya of the obshchestvo lyubiteléi kavkazskoi arkhéologii of tiflis. former, from , in fol.; latter, from , in vo. the best map is that of the general staff. five versts to the inch. history. general. *brosset (m. f.), histoire de la géorgie (two volumes of georgian text, and six volumes of french translation and notes). s. pbg. (acad. scient.), - . to. m. brosset has written a great many books and articles on georgian history, published by the imperial academy of sciences in s. pbg.; some of them may still be purchased. cf. bibliographie analytique des ouvrages de m. marie-félicité brosset ... par m. laurent brosset. s. pbg., . joselian (plato), istoriya gruzinskoi tserkvi. s. pbg., . translated into english under the title of "a short history of the georgian church," translated from the russian by the rev. s. c. malan. london, . vo. ---- ----, razlichniya naimenovaniya gruzin (on the various appellations of the georgians). tiflis, . mo. ---- ----, istorichskii vzglad na sostoyanie drevnei gruzii (historical glance at the condition of ancient georgia). in zhurnal ministerstva narodn. prosv. s. pbg., . cf. also his periodical zakavkazskii vestnik from . tiflis. baratov (prince sulkhan), istoriya gruzii. s. pbg., , &c. vo. david (tsarevich of georgia), kratkaya istoriya o gruzii. s. pbg., . mo. barataiev, numizmatichskie fakti gruzinskavo tsarstva (georgian numismatics). s. pbg., . vo. villeneuve (de), la géorgie. paris, . vo. breitenbauch (georg aug. von), geschichte der staaten von georgien. memmingen, . thin vo. reineggs (jacob), kurzer auszug der geschichte von georgien. published in p. s. pallas's neue nordische beitraege, iii. bd., s. pbg., . vo. *evgeny (bolkovitinov, metropolitan of kiev), georgien, oder historisches gemaelde von grusien, aus dem russischen uebers. von f. schmidt. riga, . vo. a capital little book. malcolm (sir john), history of persia. nd edition. london, . vo. fraser, an historical and descriptive account of persia. edinburgh, . mo. kazem-beg, derbend nâmeh, or the history of derbend. translated from the turkish (into english). s. pbg., . to. early history. ditmar (t. j.), von den kaukasischen voelkern der mythischen zeit. berlin, . vo. ritter (carl), die vorhalle europaeischer voelkergeschichten vor herodotus, um den kaukasus und an den gestaden des pontus, eine abhandlung zur alterthumskunde. berlin, . vo. the copy in the british museum is lettered "ritter's wahnsinn," and we must own that we think the book more interesting than instructive. neumann (carl), die hellenen im skythenlande. berlin, . vo. shea (d.), mir khwand. history of the early kings of persia from kaiomars to ... alexander the great. london. oriental translation fund. . vo. procopius, de bello persico ... de bello gothico. continued down to a.d. by agathias. constantinus porphyrius (x. cent, a.d.), de administrando imperio. boyer, de muro caucasico. in vol. i. of comment. de l'acad. de sciences. s. pbg. polybius, de bello persico. lib. i., cap. xii. et passim. ruffinus, historia ecclesiastica. lib. i., cap. x. conversion of georgia. saint-martin (jean antoine), mémoires historiques et géographiques sur l'arménie. tom. paris, and . vo. ashik (anton), bosforskoye tsarstvo s yevo paleografichskimi i nadgrobnimi pamyatnikami, raspisnimi vasami, planami, kartami i vidami (the kingdom of the bosphorus, with its paleographic and monumental remains, inscribed vases, plans, maps, and views). odessa, - . three parts. to. neumann (c. f.), elisha vartabed. the history of vartan, and of the battles of the armenians. . vo. and vahram's chronicle of the armenian kingdom in cilicia. . vo. published by oriental translation fund. london. d'ohsson (chév.), des peuples du caucase au xe. siècle. paris, . lebeau (charles), histoire du bas empire. corrigée et augm. par m. de saint-martin et continuée par m. brosset jeune. tom. paris, - . vo. vivien de saint-martin (louis), recherches sur les populations primitives et les plus anciennes traditions du caucase. paris, . vo. stritter (j. g.), memoriæ populorum olim ad danubium, pontum euxinum, paludem mæotidem, caucasum, mare caspium, et inde magis ad septentriones, incolentium, e scriptoribus historiæ byzantinæ erutæ et digestæ. petropoli, - . vols. to. (vol. iv. refers to georgian history.) modern history. klaproth (j. von), aperçu des entreprises des mongols en géorgie ... dans le xiii. siècle. paris, . vo. comte l. s. (? seristori), memoria sulle colonie del mar nero nei secoli di mezzo. pp. vo. (n. d.) an account of the genoese trading colonies. dorn (b.), beitraege zur geschichte der kaukasischen laender und voelker, aus morgenlaendischen quellen. esp. iii. bd. (geschichte der georgier), which contains a work by a mahometan writer named iskender munshi, and a history of the szafid dynasty; it deals with the period - . acad. scient. s. pbg., . to. *perepiska na inostrannikh yazikakh gruzinskikh tsarei s rosiiskimi gosudaryami ot g. do g. (correspondence in foreign languages between the kings of georgia and the sovereigns of russia from to .) acad. scient. s. pbg., . to. hanway (jonas), the revolutions of persia during the present century (being the second volume of the historical account of the british trade over the caspian). nd edition. london, . to. der allerneueste staat von casan ... georgien und vieler andern dem czaren, sultan und schach ... unterthanen tartarn landschaften ... nuernberg, . vo. van der quelle (philander--pseudonym), leben und thaten des persischen monarchen schach nadyr. leipzig, . vo. peyssonnel (french consul in smyrna), histoire des troubles dans la géorgie. (? paris, .) vo. translated into german, also into english as a continuation of hanway's history. london, . to. ouosk' herdjan (jean), mémoire pour servir à l'histoire des événemens qui ont eu lieu en arménie et en géorgie à la fin du xviiie. siècle et au commencement du xixe. trad. de l'arménien par j. klaproth. paris, . vo. cirbied (j.), histoire arménienne; details sur les changements politiques en géorgie et en arménie dans les premières années du xixe. siècle. (? paris, .) vo. rottiers (col.), notice biographique sur marie, dernière reine de géorgie. journal asiatique. tom. . paris, . *zubov, podvigi russkikh voisk v stranakh kavkazskikh v - (the exploits of the russian army in the caucasian countries from to ). s. pbg., - . ten vols. vo. with portraits and plans. ----, kartina voini s persieiu (a picture of the war with persia). s. pbg., . vo. fonton (félix de), la russie dans l'asie mineure. histoire de la campagne du maréchal paskewitch. paris, . vo. with atlas. urquhart (david), progress and present position of russia in the east. london, . vo. and second edition "continued to the present time." london, . vo. hommaire de hell, situation des russes dans le caucase. paris, . vo. holland (thomas erskine), lecture on the treaty relations of russia and turkey from - . london and oxford, . vo. haxthausen (august, baron von), the tribes of the caucasus, with an account of shamyl. translated by j. e. taylor. london, . mo. moser (l.), der kaukasus, seine voelkerschaften ... nebst einer charakteristik schamils. wien, . vo. our dangerous neighbour over the way, and two questions upon the caucasus. london, . vo. *bodenstedt (friedrich martin), die voelker des kaukasus und ihre freiheitskaempfe gegen die russen. bde. te. ausg. berlin, . vo. wagner (dr. friedr.), schamyl als feldherr, sultan und prophet. leipzig, . vo. english translation by l. wraxall. london, . vo. douhaire (p.), les russes au caucase. prise de schamyl. paris, . vo. *dubrovin, istoriya voini i vladichestva russkikh na kavkazié (history of the war and supremacy of the russians in the caucasus). vols. s. pbg., . the first volume is introductory, and contains an excellent ethnographical account of the country. baumgarten (g.), sechzig jahre des kaukasischen krieges. nach russischen originalen.... leipzig, . vo. dulaurier, la russie dans le caucase. in revue des deux mondes. paris, - . boys (a. du), le caucase depuis shamyl. in le contemporain. paris, août, . the following periodical publications should also be consulted:-- the official newspaper kavkaz. - . tiflis. kavkazskii sbornik. - . vols. vo. tiflis. a series of articles chiefly referring to russian military exploits in the caucasus during the present century. for georgian jurisprudence, cf.-- sbornik zakonov gruzinskavo tsarya vakhtanga vi. (collection of the laws of the georgian king vakhtanga vi.), izd. a. s. frenkelya, pod redak. d. z. bakradze. tiflis, . bagaturov (s. j.), lichniya i pozemelniya prava v drevnei gruzii (personal and agrarian laws in ancient georgia). tiflis, . dareste, an art. in journ. des savants. paris, . kovalevskii, arts. in vestnik yevropi. language and literature. georgian grammars and dictionaries--comparative philology. alphabetum ibericum sive georgianum. romæ, . vo. paolini (stefano), dittionario giorgiano e italiano, composto da s. p. con l'aiuto del m. r. p. d. niceforo irbachi giorgiano. roma (propag.), . to. maggi (francesco maria), syntagmatwn linguarum orientalium quæ in georgiæ regionibus audiuntur. romæ, . fol. and . fol. hyde (thomas, d.d.), historia religionis veterum persarum .... oxonii, . to. and . to. contains georgian alphabet. tlulcaanti (david), dottrina cristiana per uso delle missioni della giorgia, tradotta dalla lingua italiana in lingua civile giorgiana. roma, . vo. and . vo. vocabularium catherinæ. nos. , , , &c. s. pbg. varlaamov, kratkaya gruzinskaya grammatika. s. pbg., . hervas, vocabolario poliglota, p. , &c. madrid. witsen, nord en oost tartarye ii., , . firalov, samouchitel, soderzhashchii v sebé grammatiku, razgovori, nravoucheniya i lexikon, na rossiiskom i gruzinskom yazikakh (grammar, dialogues, moral precepts, and dictionary in russian and georgian). s. pbg., . vo. vater (j. s.), vergleichungstafeln der europaeischen stamm-sprachen ... grusinische grammatik, nach maggio, ghai und firalow ... halle, . vo. klaproth (h. j. v.), kaukasische sprachen. halle and berlin, . vo. ---- ----, vocabulaire et grammaire de la langue géorgienne. paris (soc. asiat.), . vo. ---- ----, sur la langue géorgienne. in journal asiat. paris, . brosset (m. f.), l'art libéral ou grammaire géorgienne. paris, . vo. ---- ----, Éléments de la langue géorgienne. paris, . vo. soulkhanoff (a.), vocabulaire méthodique géorgien-français-russe. s. pbg., . vo. *chubinov (david), gruzinsko-russo-frantsuzkii slovar. dictionnaire géorgien-français-russe avec un abrégé de la grammaire géorgienne par m. brosset. s. pbg., . to. ---- ----, kratkaya gruzinskaya grammatika. s. pbg., . vo. ---- ----, russko-gruzinskii slovar. vnov sostavlenii po noveishim russkim slovaryam. s. pbg., . vo. bopp, kaukasische glieder des indo-europaeischen sprachstamms. berlin, . mueller (f. c. j.), zur conjugation des georgischens verbums. wien, . vo. schiefner (prof.), report on the languages of the caucasus. in transactions of philological society. london, . gatteyrias (j. a.), etudes linguistiques sur les langues de la famille géorgienne. in revue de linguistique. paris, juillet, . tsagareli (prof.), georgische inschrift aus jerusalem. in zeitschrift des palestina-vereins. . *---- ----, examen de la littérature relative à la grammaire géorgienne. s. pbg., . peacock (d. r.), original vocabularies of five west caucasian languages (georgian, mingrelian, lazian, svanetian, and apkhazian). journal of royal asiatic society, , pp. - . osset, mingrelian, abkhazian, svanetian, and lazian languages. sjögren (a. j.), ossetische sprachlehre (also published in russian). s. pbg. (acad. scient.), . to. ---- ----, ossetische studien. s. pbg. (acad. scient.), . to. schiefner (a.), ossetinskie texti (osset texts). s. pbg. (acad. scient.), . vo. ---- ----, versuch ueber die thusch-sprache. s. pbg. (acad. scient.), . to. and other works. mueller (f. c. j.), ueber die stellung des ossetischen. wien, . vo. ---- ----, beitraege zur lautlehre des ossetischen. wien, . vo. miller (vsyevolod, professor at moscow), ossetinskie etyudi. bartolomaei (lieut.-gen.), lushnu anban. svanetskaya azbuka (svanetian primer with georgian and russian translation. includes a large vocabulary, lord's prayer, colloquial phrases, &c.). tiflis, . to. pp. klaproth (j. de), détails sur le dialecte géorgien usité en mingrélie. in journ. asiat. paris, . rosen, sprache der lazen. berlin, . ----, abhandlungen ueber das mingrelische. berlin, . ----, ueber das suanische und abchasische. berlin, . georgian literature.--translations and criticisms. *brosset, articles, lectures, &c., published by acad. scient. s. pbg. in their periodical and other publications. *leist (arthur), georgische dichter. leipzig, . mo. a collection of modern lyrics translated into german verse. ---- ----, georgian, natur, sitten u. bewohner. leipzig, . (last chapter contains a short history of georgian literature, which i freely used in writing the present work.) *evgeny (bolkovitinov), georgien, oder historisches gemaelde von grusien, aus dem russischen uebers. von f. schmidt. riga, . vo. alter (franz c.), ueber georgianische litteratur. wien, . vo. *gulak (n. i.), o barsovoi kozhé rustaveli. (two lectures in russian on rustaveli's "man in the panther's skin.") tiflis, . vo. État actuel de la littérature géorgienne. in nouv. journ. asiat. vol. i., p. . gabriel (bishop of imereti), sermons, &c. translated from the georgian by s. c. malan, vicar of broadwindsor. london, . vo. orbeliani (prince sulkhan), kniga mudrosti i lzhi. (a russian translation of a collection of georgian fables and folk tales of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries.) perevod i obyasneniya a. tsagareli. s. pbg. (acad. scient.), . vo. bebur b ... gruzinskiya narodniya skazki. s. pbg., . vo. (a collection of folk tales, &c., chiefly from guri.) mueller (w.), prometheische sagen im kaukasus. in russische revue. . bleçki (r. v.), das schloss der tamara. eine kaukasische sage. s. pbg., . vo. tsagareli (prof.), svedeniya o pamyatnikakh gruzinskoi pismennosti (information concerning the monuments of georgian literature). s. pbg., . vo. morfill (w. r.), an article on georgian literature in "the academy," july , . mr. morfill has catalogued the georgian library presented to the indian institute at oxford by the rev. s. c. malan, with whom he shares the honour of being the only georgian scholar in england, and he will shortly publish a history of russia, a chapter of which will be devoted to georgia. statistics. all the following figures are from official papers, and they refer to the year . they must not be too implicitly believed:-- a. statistics of population. area in sq. km. total population. government of tiflis , , government of kutais , , population of the chief towns in georgia:-- government of tiflis. government of kutais. akhaltzikhe. , batum , akhalkalaki , kutais , gori , poti , dushet , sukhum , signakh , telav , tiflis , it will be seen that the urban population is very small. b. trade and agriculture ( ). total trade of transcaucasia (value in roubles at, say d. per rouble):-- exports. imports. total. , , , , , , rbl. trade of the interior of russia and transcaucasia with persia:-- exports. imports. total. , , , , , , rbl. transit trade through transcaucasia:-- from asia to europe. from europe to asia. total , , , , , traffic returns of transcaucasian railway. total weight of goods carried, , , puds (ton = puds). to batum and poti, for export, , , puds. viz. , , pd. petroleum and its products. , , pd. grain. , , pd. miscellaneous goods. goods imported from abroad and despatched from batum and poti by railway, , , pd. bread stuffs produced in transcaucasia:-- wheat , , puds. barley , , puds. maize , , puds. millet , , puds. rice , , puds. oats , puds. potatoes , , puds. total , , puds. wine.--the total annual production of wine in transcaucasia was about , , gallons, of which about , , gallons in the government of kutais. the transcaucasian rwy. carried a weight of , puds from stations in the government of kutais; , puds from stations in the government of tiflis. (as there is no railway to kakheti, the wine from that district comes to the capital by road, in carts.) two hundred thousand puds were sent to batum, presumably for export (chiefly to france, where it is "manipulated" and sold as burgundy). sundry goods despatched by transcaucasian railway. from stations in the from stations in govt. of kutais. the govt. of tiflis. puds. puds. manganese ore , , chiefly to great -- britain timber , , dried raisins -- , palm wood , -- walnut wood , , walnuts , , tobacco , , silk and cocoons -- , wool -- , fruits , , raw hides , , manufactured hides , , c. education ( ). no. of schools. higher lower private elementary total no. gymnasia, municipal. schools. schools. of &c. schools. government of tiflis government of kutais no. of pupils. boys. girls. total. for every , inhabitants there are-- schools. pupils. government of , , , · tiflis government of , , , · kutais specimens of georgian vocal music. .--the river aragva. .--the singer. .--avtandil's song. .--drinking song (p. ). russia its people and its literature by emilia pardo bazÁn translated from the spanish by fanny hale gardiner chicago a.c. mcclurg & co. translator's preface. emilia pardo bazán, the author of the following critical survey of russian literature, is a spanish woman of well-known literary attainments as well as wealth and position. her life has been spent in association with men of mark, both during frequent sojourns at madrid and at home in galicia, "the switzerland of spain," from which province her father was a deputy to cortes. books and libraries were almost her only pleasures in childhood, as she was allowed few companions, and she says she could never apply herself to music. by the time she was fourteen she had read widely in history, sciences, poetry, and fiction, excepting the works of the french romanticists, dumas, george sand, and victor hugo, which were forbidden fruit and were finally obtained and enjoyed as such. at sixteen she married and went to live in madrid, where, amid the gayeties of the capital, her love for literature suffered a long eclipse. her father was obliged, for political reasons, to leave the country after the abdication of amadeus, and she accompanied him in a long and to her profitable period of wandering, during which she learned french, english, and italian, in order to read the literatures of those tongues. she also plunged deep into german philosophy, at first out of curiosity, because it was then in vogue; but she confesses a debt of gratitude to it nevertheless. while she was thus absorbed in foreign tongues and literatures, she remained almost entirely ignorant of the new movement in her own land, led by valera, galdos, and alarcon. the prostration which characterized the reign of isabella ii. had been followed by a rejuvenation born of the revolution of . when this new literature was at last brought to her notice, she read it with delighted surprise, and was immediately struck by something resembling the spirit of cervantes, hurtado, and other spanish writers of old renown. inspired by the possibility of this heredity, she resolved to try novel-writing herself,--a thought which had never occurred to her when her idea of the novel had been bounded by the romantic limitations of victor hugo and his suite. but if the novel might consist of descriptions of places and customs familiar to us, and studies of the people we see about us, then she would dare attempt it. as yet, however, no one talked of realism or naturalism in spain; the tendency of spanish writers was rather toward a restoration of elegant castilian, and her own first novel followed this line, although evidently inspired by the breath of realism as far as she was then aware of it. the methods and objects of the french realists became fully manifest to her shortly afterward; for, being in poor health, she went to vichy, where in hours of enforced leisure she read for the first time balzac, flaubert, goncourt, and daudet. the result led her to see the importance of their aims and the force of their art, to which she added the idea that each country should cultivate its own tradition while following the modern methods. these convictions she embodied first in a prologue to her second novel, "a wedding journey," and then in a series of articles published in the "epoca" at madrid, and afterward in paris; these she avers were the first echoes in spain of the french realist movement. all of her novels have been influenced by the school of art to which she has devoted her attention and criticism, and her study of which has well qualified her for the essays contained in this volume. this work on russian literature was published in , but prior to its appearance in print the señora de bazán was invited to read selections from it before the ateneo de madrid,--an honor never before extended to a woman, i believe. few spanish women are accustomed to speaking in public, and she thus describes her own first attempt in , when, during the festivities attending the opening of the first railway between madrid and coruña, the capital of her native province, she was asked to address a large audience invited to honor the memory of a local poet:-- "fearful of attempting so unusual a performance, as well as doubtful of the ability to make my voice heard in a large theatre, i took advantage of the presence of my friend emilio castelar to read to him my discourse and confide to him my fears. on the eve of the performance, castelar, ensconced in an arm-chair in my library, puzzled his brains over the questions whether i should read standing or sitting, whether i should hold my papers in my hand or no, and having an artist's eye to the scenic effect, i think he would have liked to suggest that i pose before the mirror! but i was less troubled about my attitude than by the knowledge that castelar was to speak also, and before me, which would hardly predispose my audience in my favor.... the theatre was crowded to suffocation, but i found that this rather animated than terrified me. i rose to read (for it was finally decided that i should stand), and i cannot tell how thin and hard and unsympathetic my voice sounded in the silence. my throat choked with emotion; but i was scarcely through the first paragraph when i heard at my right hand the voice of castelar, low and earnest, saying over and over again, 'very good, very good! that is the tone! so, so! 'i breathed more freely, speaking became easier to me; and my audience, far from becoming impatient, gave me an attention and applause doubly grateful to one whose only hope had been to avoid a fiasco. castelar greeted me at the close with a warm hand-grasp and beaming eyes, saying, 'we ought to be well satisfied, emilia; we have achieved a notable and brilliant success; let us be happy, then!'" probably the señora de bazán learned her lesson well, and had no need of the friendly admonitions of castelar when she came to address the distinguished audience at the ateneo, for she is said to have "looked very much at ease," and to have been very well received, but a good deal criticised afterward, being the first spanish woman who ever dared to read in the ateneo. turning from the authoress to the work, i will only add that i hope the american reader may find it to be what it seemed to me as i read it in spanish,--an epitome of a vast and elaborate subject, and a guide to a clear path through this maze which without a guide can hardly be clear to any but a profound student of belles-lettres; for classicism, romanticism, and realism are technical terms, and the purpose of the modern novel is only just beginning to be understood by even fairly intelligent readers. in the belief that the interest awakened by russian literature is not ephemeral, and that this great, young, and original people has come upon the world's stage with a work to perform before the world's eye, i have translated this careful, critical, synthetical study of the russian people and literature for the benefit of my intelligent countrymen. f.h.g. chicago, march, . contents. book i. the evolution of russia. i. scope and purpose of the present essay ii. the russian country iii. the russian race iv. russian history v. the russian autocracy vi. the agrarian communes vii. social classes in russia viii. russian serfdom book ii. russian nihilism and its literature. i. the word "nihilism" ii. origin of the intellectual revolution iii. woman and the family iv. going to the people v. herzen and the nihilist novel vi. the reign of terror vii. the police and the censor book iii. rise of the russian novel. i. the beginnings of russian literature ii. russian romanticism.--the lyric poets iii. russian realism: gogol, its founder book iv. modern russian realism. i. turguenief, poet and artist ii. gontcharof and oblomovism iii. dostoiëwsky, psychologist and visionary iv. tolstoï, nihilist and mystic v. french realism and russian realism book i. the evolution of russia. i. scope and purpose of the present essay. the idea of writing something about russia, the russian novel, and russian social conditions (all of which bear an intimate relationship to one another), occurred to me during a sojourn in paris, where i was struck with the popularity and success achieved by the russian authors, and especially the novelists. i remember that it was in the month of march, , that the russian novel "crime and punishment," by dostoiëwsky, fell into my hands and left on my mind a deep impression. circumstances prevented my following up at that time my idea of literary work on the subject; but the next winter i had nothing more important to do than to make my projected excursion into this new realm. my interest was quickened by all the reports i read of those who had done the same. they all declared that one branch of russian literature, that which flourishes to-day in every part of europe, namely, the novel, has no rival in any other nation, and that the so much discussed tendency to the pre-eminence of truth in art, variously called realism, naturalism, etc., has existed in the russian novel ever since the romantic period, a full quarter of a century earlier than in france. i saw also that the more refined and select portion of the parisian public, that part which boasts an educated and exacting taste, bought and devoured the works of turguenief, tolstoï, and dostoiëwsky with as much eagerness as those of zola, goncourt, and daudet; and it was useless to ascribe this universal eagerness merely to a conspiracy intended to produce jealousy and humiliation among the masters and leaders of naturalism or realism in france, even though i may be aware that such a conspiracy tacitly exists, as well as a certain amount of involuntary jealousy, which, in fact, even the most illustrious artist is prone to display. i do not ignore the objections that might be urged against going to foreign lands in search of novelties, and i should decline to face them if russian literature were but one of the many caprices of the exhausted parisian imagination. i know very well that the french capital is a city of novelties, hungry for extravagances which may entertain for a moment and appease its yawning weariness, and that to this necessity for diversion the _decadent_ school (which has lately had such a revival, and claims the aberrations of the spanish gongora as its master), though aided by some talent and some technical skill, owes the favor it enjoys. some years ago i attended a concert in paris, where i heard an orchestra of bohemians, or zingaras, itinerant musicians from hungary. i was asked my opinion of them at the close, and i frankly confessed that the orchestra sounded to me very like a jangling of mule-bells or a caterwauling; they were only a little more tolerable than a street band of my own country (spain), and only because these were gypsies were their scrapings to be endured at all. literary oddities are puffed and made much of by certain parisian critics very much as the bohemian musicians were, as, for example, the japanese novel "the loyal ronins," and certain romantic sketches of north american origin. it is but just, nevertheless, to acknowledge that in france the mania for the exotic has a laudable aim and obeys an instinct of equity. to know everything, to call nothing outlandish, to accord the highest right of human citizenship, the right of creating their own art and of sacrificing according to their own rites and customs on the altar sacred to beauty, not only to the great nations, but to the decayed and obscure ones,--this surely is a generous act on the part of a people endowed with directive energies; the more so as, in order to do this, the french have to overcome a certain petulant vanity which naturally leads them to consider themselves not merely the first but the only people. but confining myself now to russia, i do not deny that to my curiosity there were added certain doubts as to the value of her literary treasures. during my investigations, however, i have discovered that, apart from the intrinsic merit of her famous authors, her literature must attract our attention because of its intimate connections with social, political, and historical problems which are occupying the mind of europe to-day, and are outcomes of the great revolutionary movement, unless it would be more correct to say that they inspired and directed that movement. i take this opportunity to confess frankly that i lack one almost indispensable qualification for my task,--the knowledge of the russian language. it would have been easy for me, during my residence in paris, to acquire a smattering of it perhaps, enough to conceal my ignorance and to enable me to read some selections in poetry and prose; but not so easy thus to learn thoroughly a language which for intricacy, splendid coloring, and marvellous flexibility and harmony can only be compared, in the opinion of philologists, to the ancient greek. of what use then a mere smattering, which would be insufficient to give to my studies a positive character and an indisputable authority? two years would not have been too long to devote to such an accomplishment, and in that length of time new ideas, different lines of thought, and unexpected obstacles might perhaps arise; the opportunity would be gone and my plan would have lost interest. still, i mentioned my scruples on this head to certain competent persons, and they agreed that ignorance of the russian language, though an ignorance scarcely uncommon, would be an insuperable difficulty if i proposed to write a didactic treatise upon russian letters, instead of a rapid review or a mere sketch in the form of a modest essay or two. they added that the best russian books were translated into french or german, and that in these languages, and also in english and italian, had been published several able and clever works relative to muscovite literature and institutions, solid enough foundations upon which to build my efforts. it may be said, and with good reason, that if i could not learn the language i might at least have made a trip to russia, and like madame de staël when she revealed to her countrymen the culture of a foreign land, see the places and people with my own eyes. but russia is not just around the corner, and the women of my country, though not cowardly, are not accustomed to travel so intrepidly as for example the women of great britain. i have often envied the good fortune of that clever scotchman, mackenzie wallace, who has explored the whole empire of russia, ridden in sleighs over her frozen rivers, chatted with peasants and _popes_, slept beneath the tents of the nomadic tribes, and shared their offered refreshment of fermented mare's-milk, the only delicacy their patriarchal hospitality afforded. but i acknowledge my deficiencies, and can only hope that some one better qualified than i may take up and carry on this imperfect and tentative attempt. i have tried to supply from other sources those things which i lacked. not only have i read everything written upon russia in every language with which i am acquainted, but i have associated myself with russian writers and artists, and noted the opinions of well-informed persons (who often, however, be it said in parenthesis, only served to confuse me by their differences and opposition). a good part of the books (a list of which i give at the end) were hardly of use to me, and i read them merely from motives of literary honesty. to save continual references i prefer to speak at once and now of those which i used principally: mackenzie wallace's work entitled "russia" abounds in practical insight and appreciation; anatole leroy-beaulieu's "the empire of the czars" is a profound, exact, and finished study, so acknowledged even by the russians themselves in their most just and calm judgments; tikomirov's "russia, political and social" is clear and comprehensible, though rather radical and passionate, as might be expected of the work of an exile; melchior de voguié's "the russian novel" is a critical study of incomparable delicacy, though i do not always acquiesce in his conclusions. from these four books, to which i would add the remarkable "history of russia" by rambaud, i have drawn copious draughts; and giving them this mention, i may dispense with further reference to them. ii. the russian country. if we consider the present state of european nations, we shall observe a decided decline of the political fever which excited them from about the end of the last century to the middle of the present one. a certain calm, almost a stagnation with some, has followed upon the conquest of rights more craved than appreciated. the idea of socialistic reforms is agitated darkly and threateningly among the masses, openly declaring itself from time to time in strikes and riots; but on the other hand, the middle classes almost everywhere are anxious for a long respite in which to enjoy the new social conditions created by themselves and for themselves. the middle classes represent the largest amount of intellectual force; they have withdrawn voluntarily (through egoism, prudence, or indifference) from active political fields, and renounced further efforts in the line of experiment; the arts and letters, which are in the main the work of well-to-do people, cry out against this withdrawal, and, losing all social affinities, become likewise isolated. france possesses at this moment that form of government for which she yearned so long and so convulsively; yet she has not found in it the sort of well-being she most desired,--that industrial and economical prosperity, that coveted satisfaction and compensation which should restore to the cock of brenus his glittering spurs and scarlet crest. she is at peace, but doubtful of herself, always fearful of having to behold again the vandalism of the commune and the catastrophes of the prussian invasion. italy, united and restored, has not regained her place as a european power, nor, in rising again from her glorious ashes, can she reanimate the dust of the heroes, the great captains and the sublime artists, that lie beneath her monuments. and it is not only the latin nations that stand in more or less anxious expectation of the future. if france has established her much desired republic, and italy has accomplished her union, england also has tasted all the fruits of the parliamentary system, has imparted her vigor to magnificent colonies, has succeeded in impressing her political doctrines and her positive ideas of life upon the whole continent; while germany has obtained the military supremacy and the amalgamation of the fatherland once dismembered by feudalism, as well as the fulfilment of the old teutonic dream of cæsarian power and an imperial throne,--a dream cherished since the middle ages. for the saxon races the hour of change has sounded too; in a certain way they have fulfilled their destinies, they have accomplished their historic work, and i think i see them like actors on the stage declaiming the closing words of their rôles. one plain symptom of what i have described seems to me to be the draining off of their creative forces in the domain of art. what proportion does the artistic energy of england and germany bear to their political strength? none at all. no names nowadays cross the channel to be put up beside--i will not say those of shakspeare and byron, but even those of walter scott and dickens; there is no one to wear the mantle of the illustrious author of "adam bede," who was the incarnation of the moral sense and temperate realism of her country, and at the same time an eloquent witness to the extent and limit allowed by these two tendencies, both of puritanic origin, to the laws of æsthetics and poetry. on the other side of the rhine the tree of romance is dry, though its roots are buried in the mysterious sub-soil of legend, and beneath its branches pass and repass the heroes of the ballads of bürger and goethe, and within its foliage are crystallized the brilliant dialectics of hegel. to put it plainly, germany to-day produces nothing within herself, particularly if we compare this to-day with the not distant yesterday. but i would be less general, and set forth my idea in a clearer manner. it is not my purpose to sacrifice on the altar of my theme the genius of all europe. i recognize willingly that there are in every nation writers worthy of distinction and praise, and not only in nations of the first rank but in some also of second and third, as witness those of portugal, belgium, sweden, modern greece, denmark, and even roumania, which can boast a queenly authoress, extremely talented and sympathetic. i merely say--and to the intelligent reader i need give but few reasons why--that it is easy to distinguish the period in which a people, without being actually sterile, and even displaying relatively a certain fecundity which may deceive the superficial observer, yet ceases to produce anything virile and genuine, or to possess vital and creative powers. to this general rule i consider france an exception, for she is really the only nation which, since the close of the romantic period, has seen any spontaneous literary production great enough to traverse and influence all europe,--a phenomenon which cannot be explained by the mere fact of the general use of the french tongue and customs. it will be understood that i refer to the rise and success of realism, and that i speak of it in a large sense, not limiting my thoughts to the master minds, but considering it in its entirety, from its origin to its newest ramifications, from its antecedent encyclopedists to its latest echoes, the pessimists, _decadents_, and other fanatics. looking at what are called french naturalists or realists in a group, as a unity which obliterates details, i cannot deny to france the glory of presenting to the world in the second half of this century a literary development, which, even if it carries within itself the germs of senility and decrepitude (namely, the very materialism which is its philosophic basis, its very extremes and exaggerations, and its erudite, and reflective character, a quality which however unapparent is nevertheless perfectly demonstrable), yet it shows also the vigor of a renaissance in its valiant affirmation of artistic truth, its zeal in maintaining this, in the faith with which it seeks this truth, and in the effectiveness of its occasional revelations thereof. when party feeling has somewhat subsided, french realism will receive due thanks for the impulse it has communicated to other peoples; not a lamentable impulse either, for nations endowed with robust national traditions always know how to give form and shape to whatever comes to them from without, and those only will accept a completed art who lack the true conditions of nationality, even though they figure as states on the map. there are two great peoples in the world which are not in the same situation as the latin and saxon nations of europe,--two peoples which have not yet placed their stones in the world's historic edifice. they are the great transatlantic republic and the colossal sclavonic empire,--the united states and russia. what artistic future awaits the young north american nation? that land of material civilization, free, happy, with wise and practical institutions, with splendid natural resources, with flourishing commerce and industries, that people so young yet so vigorous, has acquired everything except the acclimatization in her vast and fertile territory of the flower of beauty in the arts and letters. her literature, in which such names as edgar poe shine with a world-wide lustre, is yet a prolongation of the english literature, and no more. what would that country not give to see within herself the glorious promise of that spirit which produced a murillo, a cervantes, a goethe, or a meyerbeer, while she covers with gold the canvases of the mediocre painters of europe! but that art and literature of a national character may be spontaneous, a people must pass through two epochs,--one in which, by the process of time, the myths and heroes of earlier days assume a representative character, and the early creeds and aspirations, still undefined by reflection, take shape in popular poetry and legend; the other in which, after a period of learning, the people arises and shakes off the outer crust of artificiality, and begins to build conscientiously its own art upon the basis of its never-forgotten traditions. the united states was born full-grown. it never passed through the cloudland of myth; it is utterly lacking in that sort of popular poetry which to-day we call folk-lore. but when a nation carries within itself this powerful and prolific seed, sooner or later this will sprout. a people may be silent for long years, for ages, but at the first rays of its dawning future it will sing like the sphinx of egypt. russia is a complete proof of this truth. perhaps no other nation ever saw its æsthetic development unfold so unpromisingly, so cramped and so stunted. the stiff and unyielding garments of french classicism have compressed the spirit of its national literature almost to suffocation; german romanticism, since the beginning of this century, has lorded it triumphantly there more than in any other land. but in spite of so many obstacles, the genius of russia has made a way for itself, and to-day offers us a sight which other nations can only parallel in their past history; namely, the sudden revelation of a national literature. i do not mean to prophesy for others an irremediable sterility or decadence; i merely confine myself to noting one fact: russia is at this moment the only young nation in europe,--the last to arrive at the banquet. the rest live upon their past; this one sets out now impetuously to conquer the future. over russia are passing at present the hours of dawn, the golden days, the times that after a while will be called classic; some even of the men whom generations to come will call their glorious ancestors are living now. i insist upon this view in order to explain the curiosity which this empire of the north has aroused in europe, and also to explain why so much thoughtful and serious study and attention is given to russia by all foreigners; while every book or article on such a country as spain, for instance, is full of so many careless and superficial errors. that elegant and subtle author, voguié, in writing of léon tolstoï, says that this russian novelist is so great that he seems to belong to the dead,--meaning to express in this wise the idea that the magnitude of tolstoï's genius annuls the laws of temporal criticism by which we are accustomed to see the glory of our contemporaries less or more than the reality. i would apply voguié's phrase to the russian national literature as a whole. though i see it arise before my very eyes, yet i view it amid the halo of prestige enjoyed only by things that have been. there is indeed no parallel to it anywhere. the modern phenomenon of the resurrection of local literatures, and the reappearance of forgotten or amalgamated races, bears no analogy to this russian movement; for apart from the fact that the former represents a protest by race individualism against dominant nationalities, and the latter, on the contrary, bears the seal of strong unity of sentiment (which distinguishes russia), it must be borne in mind that local literatures are reactionary in themselves,--restorers of traditions more or less forgotten and lost sight of,--while russian literature is an innovation, which accepts the past, not as its ideal, but as its root. i have heard Émile zola say, with his usual ingenuousness, that between his own spirit and that of the russian novel there was something like a haze. this gray vapor may be the effect of the northern mist which is so asphyxiating to latin brains, or it may be owing to the eccentricity which sometimes produces a work entirely independent of accepted social notions and historical factors. in order to dissipate this haze, this mist, i must devote a part of this essay to a study of the race, the natural conditions, the history, the institutions, the social and political state of russia, especially to that revolutionary effervescence known as nihilism. without such a preliminary study i could scarcely give any idea of this literary phenomenon. let us, then, cross the russian frontier and enter her colossal expanse, without being too much abashed by its size, which, says humboldt, is greater than that of the disk of the full moon. really, when we cast our eyes upon the map, fancy refuses to believe or to conceive that so large an extent of territory can form but one nation and obey but one man. we are amazed by its geographical bigness, and a sentiment of respect involuntarily enters the mind, together with the instinctive conviction that god has not modelled the body of this titan without having in view for it some admirable historical destiny to be achieved by the fine diplomacy of providence. truly it is god's handiwork, as is proved by its solid unity,--geographical as well as ethnographical,--and its duration as an independent empire. russia is no artificial conglomeration, nor a federation of states,--each with distinct internal life and traditions,--the result of conquest or of the necessity of resistance to a common enemy; for while the strife against the nomadic asiatics may have contributed to solidify her union, it was nature that predisposed her to a community of aspirations and political existence. there are islands like sicily, peninsulas like spain, whose territory, though so small, is far more easily subdivided than russia, which is intersected by no mountain chains, and which is everywhere connected by rivers,--water-ways of communication. the vast surface of russia is like a piece of cloth which unfolds everywhere alike, seamless and level. the northern regions, which produce lumber, cannot exist without the southern regions, which produce cereals; the two halves of russia are complementary; there is nowhere any conception of the provincialisms which honeycomb the spanish peninsula; and in spite of the imposing magnitude of the nation, which at first glance would seem necessarily divided into different if not inimical provinces, especially those most distant, the cohesion is so strong that all russia considers herself, not so much a state as a family, subject to the law of a father; and father they call, with tender familiarity, the autocrat of all the russias. even to-day the name of the famous mazeppa, who tried to separate ukrania from russia, is a term of insult in the ukranian dialect, and his name is cursed in their temples. to this sublime sentiment russia owes that national independence which the other sclavonic peoples have lost. iii. the russian race. it is no hindrance to muscovite unity that within it there are two completely opposing elements, namely, the germanic and the semitic. the influence of the germans is about as irritating to the russians as was that of the flemings to the spaniards under charles v. they are petted and protected by the government, especially in the baltic provinces, all the while that the russians accuse them of having introduced two abominations,--bureaucracy and despotism. but even more aggravating to the russian is the jewish usurer, who since the middle ages has fastened himself like a leach upon producer and consumer, and who, if he does not borrow or lend, begs; and if he does not beg, carries on some suspicious business. a nation within a nation, the jews are sometimes made the victims of popular hatred; the usually gentle russians sometimes rise in sudden wrath, and the newspapers report to us dreadful accounts of an assault and murder of hebrews. russian national unity is not founded, however, upon community of race; on the contrary, nowhere on the globe are the races and tribes more numerous than those that have spread over that illimitable territory like the waves of the sea; and as the high tide washes away the marks of every previous wave, and levels the sandy surface, these divers races have gone on stratifying, each forgetful of its distinct origin. those who study russian ethnography call it a chaos, and declare that at least twenty layers of human alluvium exist in european russia alone, without counting the emigrations of prehistoric peoples whose names are lost in oblivion. and yet from these varied races and origins--scythians, sarmatians, kelts, germans, goths, tartars, and mongols--has proceeded a most homogeneous people, a most solid coalescence, little given to treasuring up ancient rights and lost causes. geographical oneness has superseded ethnographical variety, and created a moral unity stronger than all other. when so many races spread themselves over one country, it becomes necessary and inevitable that one shall exercise sovereignty. in russia this directive and dominant race was the sclav, not because of numerical superiority, but from a higher character more adaptable to european civilization, and perhaps by virtue of its capability for expansion. compare the ethnographical maps of russia in the ninth and nineteenth centuries. in the ninth the sclavs occupy a spot which is scarcely a fifth part of european russia; in the nineteenth the spot has spread like oil, covering two thirds of the russian map. and as the sclavonic inundation advances, the inferior races recede toward the frozen pole or the deserts of asia. when the monk nestor wrote the first account of russia, the sclavs lived hedged in by lithuanians, turks, and finns; to-day they number above sixty million souls. thus it is once more demonstrated that to the aryan race, naturally and without violence, is reserved the pre-eminence in modern civilization. a thousand years ago northern russia was peopled by finnish tribes; in still more recent times the asiatic fisherman cast his nets where now stands the capital of peter the great; and yet without any war of extermination, without any emigration of masses, without persecutions, or the deprivation of legal privileges, the aboriginal finns have subsided, have been absorbed,--have become russianized, in a word. this is not surprising, perhaps, to us who believe in the absolute superiority of the indo-european race, noble, high-minded, capable of the loftiest and profoundest conceptions possible to the human intellect. i may say that the russian ethnographical evolution may be compared with that of my own country, if we may trust recent and well-authenticated theories. the most remote peoples of russia were, like those of spain, of turanian origin, with flattish faces, and high cheek-bones, speaking a soft-flowing language; and to this day, as in spain also, one may see in some of the physiognomies clear traces of the old blood in spite of the predominance of the invading aryan. in spain, perhaps, the aboriginal turanian bequeathed no proofs of intellectual keenness to posterity, and the famous basque songs and legends of lelo and altobizkar may turn out to be merely clever modern tricks of imitation; but in russia the finnish element, whose influence is yet felt, shows great creative powers. one of the richest popular literatures known to the researches of folk-lore is the epic cycle of finland called the kalevala, which compares with the sanscrit poems of old. a castilian writer of note, absent at present from his country, in writing to me privately his opinions on russia, said that the civilization which we behold has been created, so far as concerns its good points, exclusively by the mediterranean race dwelling around that sea of inspiration which stretches from the pillars of hercules to tyre and sidon; that sea which brought forth prophets, incarnate gods, great captains and navigators, arch-philosophers, and the geniuses of mankind. recently the most celebrated of our orators has stirred up in paris some greco-latin manifestations whose political opportuneness is not to the point just here, but whose ethnographical significance, seeking to divide europe into northern barbarians and civilized latin folk,--just as happened at the fall of the roman empire,--is of no benefit to me. who would listen without protest nowadays to the famous saying that the north has given us only iron and barbarism, or read tranquilly grenville murray's exclamation in an access of britannic patriotism, "russia will fall into a thousand pieces, the common fate of barbarous states!" the intelligence of the hearers would be offended, for they would recall the part played in universal civilization by germans and saxons,--germany, holland, england; but confining myself to the subject in hand, i cannot credit those who taunt the sclav with being a barbarian, when he is as much an aryan, a descendant of japhet, as the latin, descended as much as he from the sacred sources beside which lay the cradle of humanity, and where it first received the revelation of the light. knowing their origin, are we to judge the sclav as the greeks, the contemporaries of herodotus, did the scythian and the sarmatian, relegating him forever to the cold eternal night of cimmerian regions? it is nothing remarkable that, in the varied fortunes of this great indo-european family of races, if the kelt came early to the front, the sclav came correspondingly late. who can explain the causes of this diversity of destiny between the two branches that most resemble each other on this great tree? in the study of russian writings i was ofttimes surprised at the resemblances in the character, customs, and modes of thought of the russian _mujik_ to those of the peasants of gallicia (northern spain), my native province. then i read in various authors that the sclav is more like the kelt than like his other ancestors, which observation applied equally well to my own people. perhaps the kelt brought to spain and france the first seeds of civilization; but the superiority of the greek and the latin obliterated the traces of that primitive culture which has left us no written monuments. more fortunate is the sclav, the last to put his hand to the great work, for he is sure of leaving the marks of his footprints upon the sands of time. it is undeniable that he has come late upon the world's stage, and after the ages of inspiration and of brilliant historic action have passed. it sometimes seems now as though the brain of the world had lost its freshness and plastic quality, as though every possible phase of civilization had been seen in greece and rome, the middle ages and the renaissance, and in the scientific and political development of our own day. but the backwardness of the russian has been caused by no congenital inferiority of race; his quickness and aptitude are apparent, and sufficient to prove it is the rich treasure of popular poetry to be found among the peoples of sclav blood,--servians, russians, and poles. such testimony is irrefutable, and is to groups of peoples what articulate speech is to the individual in the zoological scale. what the romanceros are to the spaniard, the bilinas are to the russian,--an immense collection of songs in which the people have immortalized the memory of persons and events indelibly engraved on their imagination; a copious spring, a living fountain, whither the future bards of russia must return to drink of originality. what the poem of the cid represents to spain, and the song of roland to france, is symbolized for the russian by the song of the tribe of igor, the work of some anonymous homer,--a pantheistic epic impregnated with the abounding and almost overwhelming sense of realism which seems to preponderate in the literary genius of russia. history--and i use this word in the broadest sense known to us to-day--thrusts some nations to the fore, as the latins, for example; others, like the sclavs, she holds back, restraining their instinctive efforts to make themselves heard. we are accustomed to say that russia is an asiatic country, and that the russian is a tartar with a thin coat of european polish. the mongolian element must certainly be taken into account in a study of muscovite ethnography, in spite of the supremacy of the byzantine and tartar influence, and in order to understand russia. in the interior of european russia the ugly _kalmuk_ is still to be seen, and who can say how many drops of asiatic blood run in the veins of some of the most illustrious russian families? yet within this question of purity of race lies a scientific and social _quid_ easily demonstrable according to recent startling biological theories, and only the thoughtless will censure the old spaniards for their efforts to prove their blood free of any taint of moor or jew. russia, with her double nature of european and asiatic, seems like a princess in a fairy-tale turned to stone by a malignant sorcerer's art, but restored to her natural and living form by the magic word of some valiant knight. her face, her hands, and her beautiful figure are already warm and life-like, but her feet are still immovable as stone, though the damsel struggles for the fulness of reanimation; even so imperial russia strives to become entirely european, to free herself from asiatic inertia to-day. apart from the undeniable asiatic influence, we must consider the extreme and cruel climate as among the causes of her backwardness. the young civilization flourishes under soft skies, beside blue seas whose soft waves lave the limbs of the new-born goddess. where nature ill-treats man he needs twice the time and labor to develop his vocation and tendencies. to us of a more temperate zone, the description of the rigorous and overpowering climate of russia is as full of terrors as dante's inferno. the formation of the land only adds to the trying conditions of the atmosphere. russia consists of a series of plains and table-lands without mountains, without seas or lakes worthy of the name,--for those that wash her coasts are considered scarcely navigable. the only fragments of a mountain system are known by the generic and expressive term _ural_, meaning a girdle; and in truth they serve only to engirdle the whole territory. to an inhabitant of the interior the sight of a mountainous country is entirely novel and surprising. almost all the russian poets and novelists exiled to the caucasus have found an unexpected fountain of inspiration in the panorama which the mountains afforded to their view. the hero of tolstoï's novel "the cossacks," on arriving at the caucasus for the first time, and finding himself face to face with a mountain, stands mute and amazed at its sublime beauty. "what is that?" he asked the driver of his cart. "the mountain," is the indifferent reply. "what a beautiful thing!" exclaims the traveller, filled with enthusiasm. "nobody at home can imagine anything like it!" and he loses himself in the contemplation of the snow-covered crests rising abruptly above the surface of the steppes. the oceans that lie upon the boundaries of russia send no refreshing breezes over her vast continental expanse, for the white sea, the arctic, the baltic, and sometimes the caspian, are often ice-bound, while the waves of the sea of asof are turbid with the slime of marshes. neither does russia enjoy the mild influence of the gulf stream, whose last beneficent waves subside on the shores of scandinavia. the winds from the arctic region sweep over the whole surface unhindered all the winter long, while in the short summer the fiery breath of the central asian deserts, rolling over the treeless steppes, bring an intolerable heat and a desolating drought. beyond astrakan the mercury freezes in winter and bursts in the summer sun. under the rigid folds of her winter shroud russia sleeps the sleep of death long months at a time, and upon her lifeless body slowly and pauselessly fall the "white feathers" of which herodotus speaks; the earth becomes marble, the air a knife. a snow-covered country is a beautiful sight when viewed through a stereopticon, or from the comfortable depths of a fur-lined, swift-gliding sleigh; but snow is a terrible adversary to human activity. if its effects are not as dissipating as excessive heat, it none the less pinches the soul and paralyzes the body. in extreme climates man has a hard time of it, and nature proves the saying of goethe: "it envelops and governs us; we are incapable of combating it, and likewise incapable of eluding its tyrannical power." formidable in its winter sleep, nature appears even more despotic perhaps in its violent resurrection, when it breaks its icy bars and passes at once from lethargy to an almost fierce and frenzied life. in the spring-time russia is an eruption, a surprise; the days lengthen with magic rapidity; the plants leaf out, and the fruits ripen as though by enchantment; night comes hardly at all, but instead a dusky twilight falls over the land; vegetation runs wild, as though with impatience, knowing that its season of happiness will be short. the great writer, nicolaï gogol, depicts the spring-time on the russian steppes in the following words: "no plough ever furrowed the boundless undulations of this wild vegetation. only the unbridled herds have ever opened a path through this impenetrable wilderness. the face of earth is like a sea of golden verdure, broken into a thousand shades. among the thin, dry branches of the taller shrubs climb the cornflowers,--blue, purple, and red; the broom lifts its pyramid of yellow flowers; tufts of white clover dot the dark earth, and beneath their poor shade glides the agile partridge with outstretched neck. the chattering of birds fills the air; the sparrow-hawk hangs motionless overhead, or beats the air with the tips of his wings, or swoops upon his prey with searching eyes. at a distance one hears the sharp cry of a flock of wild duck, hovering like a dark cloud over some lake lost or unseen in the immensity of the plain. the prairie-gull rises with a rhythmic movement, bathing his shining plumage in the blue air; now he is a mere speck in the distance, once more he glistens white and brilliant in the rays of the sun, and then disappears. when evening begins to fall, the steppes become quite still; their whole breadth burns under the last ardent beams; it darkens quickly, and the long shadows cover the ground like a dark pall of dull and equal green. then the vapors thicken; each flower, each herb, exhales its aroma, and all the plain is steeped in perfume. the crickets chirp vigorously.... at night the stars look down upon the sleeping cossack, who, if he opens his eyes, will see the steppes illuminated with sparks of light,--the fireflies. sometimes the dark depths of the sky are lighted up by fires among the dry reeds that line the banks of the little streams and lakes, and long lines of swans, flying northward and disclosed to view by this weird light, seem like bands of red crossing the sky." do we not seem to see in this description the growth of this impetuous, ardent, spasmodic life, goaded on to quick maturity by the knowledge of its own brevity? without entirely accepting montesquieu's theory as to climate, it is safe to allow that it contains a large share of truth. it is indubitable that the influence of climate is to put conditions to man's artistic development by forcing him to keep his gaze fixed upon the phenomena of nature and the alternation and contrast of seasons, and helps to develop in him a fine pictorial sense of landscape, as in the case of the russian writers. in our temperate zone we may live in relative independence of the outside world, and almost insensible to the transition from summer to winter. we do not have to battle with the atmosphere; we breathe it, we float in it. perhaps for this reason good word-painters of landscape are few in our (spanish) literature, and our descriptive poets content themselves with stale and regular phrases about the aurora and the sunset. but laying aside this parallel, which perhaps errs in being over-subtle, i will say that i agree with those who ascribe to the russian climate a marked influence in the evolution of russian character, institutions, and history. enveloped in snow and beaten by the north wind, the sclav wages an interminable battle; he builds him a light sleigh by whose aid he subjects the frozen rivers to his service; he strips the animals of their soft skins for his own covering; to accustom his body to the violent transitions and changes of temperature, he steams himself in hot vapors, showers himself with cold water, and then lashes himself with a whip of cords, and if he feels a treacherous languor in his blood he rubs and rolls his body in the snow, seeking health and stimulus from his very enemy. but strong as is his power of reaction and moral energy, put this man, overwrought and wearied, beside a genial fire, in the silence of the tightly closed _isba_, or hut, within his reach a jug of _kvass_ or _wodka_ (a terrible _fire-water_ more burning than any other), and, obeying the urgency of the long and cruel cold, he drinks himself into a drunken sleep, his senses become blunted, and his brain is overcome with drowsiness. do not exact of him the persevering activity of the german, nor talk to him of the public life which is adapted to the latin mind. who can imagine a forum, an oracle, a tribune, in russia? study the effect of an inclement sky upon a southern mind in the elegies of ovid banished to the pontus; his reiterated laments inspire a profound pity, like the piping of a sick bird cowering in the harsh wind. the poet's greatest dread is that his bones may lie under the earth of sarmatia; he, the latin voluptuary, son of a race that desires for its dead that the earth may lie lightly on them, shrinks in anticipation of the cold beyond the tomb, when he thinks that his remains may one day be covered by that icy soil. the sclav is the victim of his climate, which relaxes his fibres and clouds his spirit. the sclav, say those who know him well, lacks tenacity, firmness; he is flexible and variable in his impressions; as easily enthusiastic as indifferent; fluctuating between opposite conclusions; quick to assimilate foreign ideas; as quick to rid himself of them; inclined to dreamy indolence and silent reveries; given to extremes of exaltation and abasement; in fact, much resembling the climate to which he has to adapt himself. it needs not be said that this description, and any other which pretends to sum up the characteristics of the whole people, must have numerous exceptions, not only in individual cases but in whole groups within the russian nationality: the southerner will be more lively and vivacious; the muscovite (those properly answering to that name) more dignified and stable; the finlander, serious and industrious, like the swiss, to whose position his own is somewhat analogous. there is in every nation a psychical as well as physical type to which the rank and file more or less correspond, and it is only upon a close scrutiny that one notices differences. the influence of the tropics upon the human race has never been denied; we are forced to admit the influence of the pole also, which, while beneficial in those lands not too close upon it, invigorating both bodies and souls and producing those chaste and robust barbarians who were the regenerators of the effete empire, yet too close, it destroys, it annihilates. who can doubt the effect of the snow upon the russian character when it is stated upon the authority of positive data and statistics that the vice of drunkenness increases in direct proportion to the degrees of latitude? there is a fine russian novel, "oblomof" (of which i shall speak again later), which is more instructive than a long dissertation. the apathy, the distinctively russian enervation of the hero, puts the languor of the most indolent creole quite in the shade, with the difference that in the case of the sclav brain and imagination are at work, and his body, if well wrapped, is able to enjoy the air of a not unendurable temperature. not only the rigors of climate but the aspect of the outside world has a marked influence on character. ovid in exile lamented having to live where the fields produced neither fruits nor sweet grapes; he might have added, had he lived in russia, where the fields are all alike, where the eye encounters no variety to attract and please it. castile is flat and monotonous like russia, but there the sky compensates for the nakedness of the earth, and one cannot be sad beneath that canopy of turquoise blue. in russia the dark firmament seems a leaden vault instead of a silken canopy, and oppresses the breast. the only things to diversify the immense expanse of earth are the great rivers and the broad belts or zones of the land, which may be divided into the northern, covered with forests; the _black lands_, which have been the granary of the empire from time immemorial; the arable steppes, so beautifully described by gogol, like the american prairies, the land of the wild horses of the russian heroic age; and lastly, the sandy steppes, sterile deserts only inhabited by the nomadic shepherds and their flocks. throughout this vast body four large arteries convey the life-giving waters: the dnieper which brought to russia the culture of old byzantium; the neva, beside which sits the capital of its modern civilization; the don, legendary and romantic; and the volga, the great _mother volga_, the marvellous river, whose waters produce the most delicious fish in the world. without the advantage of these rivers, whose abundance of waters is almost comparable to an ocean, the plains of russia would be uninhabitable. land, land everywhere, an ocean of land, a uniformity of soil, no rocks, no hills, so that stone is almost unknown in russia. st. petersburg was the first city not built entirely of wood, and it is an axiom, that russian houses, as a rule, burn once in seven years. this dulness and desolation of nature's aspect must of course influence brain and imagination, and consequently must be reflected in the literature, where melancholy predominates even in satire, and whence is derived a tendency to pessimism and a sort of religious devotion tinged with misery and sadness. indolence, fatalism, inconstancy,--these are the defects of russian character; resignation, patience, kindness, tolerance, humility, its better qualities. its passive resignation may be readily transformed into heroism; and count léon tolstoï, in his military narrative of the "siege of sevastopol," and his novel "war and peace," studies and portrays in a wonderful way these traits of the national soul. iv. russian history. history has been for russia as inclement and hostile as nature. a cursory glance will suffice to show this, and it is foreign to my purpose to devote more than slight attention to it. the greeks, the civilizers of the world, brought their culture to colchis and became acquainted with the very southernmost parts of russia known as sarmatia and scythia. herodotus has left us minute descriptions of the inhabitants of the cimmerian plains, their ways, customs, religions, and superstitions, distinguishing between the industrious scythians who produce and sell grain, and the nomadic scythians, the cossacks, who, depending on their pastures, neither sow nor work. the sarmatian region was invaded and subjugated by the northern sclavs, who in turn were conquered by the goths, these by the huns, and finally, upon the same field, huns, alans, and bulgarians fought one another for the mastery. in this first confused period there is no historical outline of the russia that was to be. her real history begins in a, to us, strange event, whose authenticity historical criticism may question, but which is the basis of all tradition concerning the origin of russian institutions; i mean the famous message sent by the sclavs to those norman or scandinavian princes, those daring adventurers, the vikings supposedly (but it matters not), saying to this effect, more or less: "our land is broad and fertile, but there is neither law nor justice within it; come and possess it and govern it." upon the foundation provided by this strange proceeding many very original theories and philosophical conclusions have been built concerning russian history; and the partisans of autocracy and the ancient order of things consider it a sure evidence that russia was destined by heaven to acknowledge an absolute power of foreign derivation, and to bow voluntarily to its saving yoke. whether the triumphal rulers were normans or scandinavians or the original sclavs, it is certain that with their appearance on the scene as the element of military strength and of disciplined organization, the history of russia begins: the date of this foreign admixture (which would be for us a day of mourning and shame) russia to-day celebrates as a glorious millennium. heroic russia came into being with the varangian or viking chieftains, and it is that age which provides the subject of the _bilinas_; it was the ninth century after christ, at the very moment when the epic and romantic life of spain awoke and followed in the train of the cid. with the establishment of order and good government among the sclavs, rurik founded the nation, as certainly as he founded later the legendary city of novgorod, and his brother and successor, olaf, that of kief, mother of all the russian cities. it fell to rurik's race also to give the signal for that secular resistance which even to-day russia maintains toward her perpetual enemy, constantinople; the russian fleets descended the dnieper to the byzantine seas to perish again and again under the greek fire. russia received also from this same byzantium, against which her arms are ever turned, the christian religion, which was delivered to olga by constantine porfirogenitus. who shall say what a change there might have been over the face of the earth if the oriental sclavs had received their religion from rome, like the poles? olga was the saint clotilde of russia; in vladimir we see her clodovicus. he was a sensuous and sanguinary barbarian, though at times troubled with religious anxieties, who at the beginning of his reign upheld paganism and revived the worship of idols, at whose feet he sacrificed the christians. but his darkened conscience was tortured nevertheless by aspirations toward a higher moral light, and he opened a discussion on the subject of the best religion known to mankind. he dismissed mahometanism because it forbade the use of the red wine which rejoiceth the heart of man; judaism because its adherents were wanderers over the face of the earth; catholicism because it was not sufficiently splendid and imposing. his childish and primitive mind was taken with the asiatic splendors of the church of constantinople, and being already espoused to the sister of the byzantine emperor, he returned to his own country bringing its priests with him, cast his old idols into the river, and compelled his astonished vassals to plunge into the same waters and receive baptism perforce, while the divinity he venerated but yesterday was beaten, smeared with blood, and buried ignominiously. happy the people upon whom the gospel has not been forced by a cruel tyrant, at the point of the sword and under threats of torture, but to whom it has been preached by a humble apostle, the brother of innumerable martyrs and saintly confessors! in the twelfth century, when christianity inspired us to reconquer our country, russia, more than half pagan, wept for her idols, and seemed to see them rising from the depths of the river demanding adoration. from this corrupt byzantine source russia derived her second civilization, counting as the first that proceeding from the colonization and commerce of the greeks, as related by herodotus. the dream of yaroslaus, the russian charlemagne, was to make his capital, kief, a rival and imitator of byzantium. from byzantium came the arts, customs, and ideas; and it seemed the fate of the sclav race to get the pattern for its intellectual life from abroad. some russian thinkers deem it advantageous for their country to have received its christianity from byzantium, and consider it an element of greater independence that the national church never arrogated to itself the supremacy and dominion over the state. let such advantages be judged by the rule of autocracy and the nullity of the greek church. the catholic nations, being educated in a more spiritual and exalted idea of liberty, have never allowed that the monarch could be lord of the human conscience, and have never known that monstrous confusion of attributes which makes the sovereign absolute dictator of souls. the crusade, that fecund movement which was the work of rome, never spread over russia; and when the sclavs fell under the tartar yoke, the rest of europe left her to her fate. russia's choice of this branch of the christian religion was fatal to her dominion over other kindred sclavs; for it embittered her rivalry with the poles, and raised an insurmountable barrier between russia and european civilization which was inseparably intertwined with the catholic faith even in such phenomena as the renaissance, which seems at first glance laic and pagan. nevertheless, so much of christianity as fell to russia through the accepted channel sufficed to open to her the doors of the civilized world, and to rouse her from the torpid sleep of the oriental. it gave her the rational and proper form of family life as indicated by monogamy, whose early adoption is one of the highest and most distinguishing marks of the aryan race; and instead of the savage chieftain surrounded by his fierce vassals always ready for rebellion and bloodshedding, it gave the idea of a monarch who lives as god's vicar upon the earth, the living incarnation of law and order,--an idea which, in times of anarchy and confusion, served to constitute the state and establish it upon a firm basis. lastly, russia owes to christianity her ecclesiastical literature, the fount and origin of literary culture throughout europe. in the thirteenth century--that bright and luminous age, the time of saint thomas, of saint francis of assisi, of dante, of saint ferdinand--russia was suddenly invaded by the mongols, and, like locusts in a corn-field, those hideous and demoniacal foes fell upon her and made all christendom tremble, so that the french historian joinville records it as a sign of the coming of antichrist. "for our sins the unknown nations covered our land," say the russian chroniclers. genghis khan, after subduing all asia, drew around him an immense number of tribes, and fell upon russia with irresistible force, sowing the land with skulls as the flower of the field sows it with seeds, and compelling the once free and wealthy native boyars to bring grist to the mill and serve their conquerors as slaves. the russian towns and princes performed miracles of heroism, but in vain. the tartar hordes, let loose upon those vast plains where their horses found abundant pasture, rolled over the land like an inundation. in a more varied country, more densely populated and with better communication, the tartars would have been beaten back, as they were from moravia. again nature's hand was upon the destinies of russia; the topographical conditions laid her under the power of the golden horde. this great misfortune not only isolated russia from the occident and left her under asiatic sway, but it also subjugated her to the growing autocracy of the muscovite princes who were becoming formidable oppressors of their subjects, and they in turn were victims, tributaries, and vassals of the great khans. so the invasion came to exercise a decisive influence upon the institutions of the future empire, pernicious in consequence of the abnormal development allowed to monarchical authority, and beneficent inasmuch as it aided forcibly in the formation of the nationality. at the time of the mongol irruption russia was composed of various independent principalities governed by the descendants of rurik; the necessity of opposing the invader demonstrated the necessity also of uniting all under one sceptre. continually chafing at the bit, dissimulating and temporizing with the enemy by means of clever diplomatic envoys, the princes slowly cemented their power and prepared the land for a homogeneous state, until one day the chivalrous donskoï, the victor at the battle of the don, opened the era of reconquest, exclaiming in the exuberance of his first triumph over the tartars, "their day is past, and god is with us!" but russia's evil star awoke one of the greatest captains named in history, tamerlane, who ruined the work begun by donskoï, and toward the end of the fourteenth century once more laid the muscovite people under subjection. at the meeting of the council of florence, when the greek emperor john paleologos agreed to the reunion of the two churches, the prince of moscow, basil the blind, showed himself blind of soul as well as of eye, in obstinately opposing such a union, thus cutting off russia again from the occident. when the turks took constantinople and consummated the fall of the byzantine empire, moscow became the capital of the greek world, the last bulwark of the schismatic church, the asylum of the remains of a depraved and perishing organism, of the senile decadence of the last of the cæsars. v. the russian autocracy. such was the sad situation in russia at the opening of the period of european renaissance, out of which grew the modern age which was to provide the remedy for her ills through her own tyrants. for without intending a paradox, i will say that tyranny is the liberator of russia. twice these tyrants who have forced life into her, who have impelled her toward the future, have been called _the terrible_,--ivan iii., the uniter of the provinces, he whose very look made the women faint, and ivan iv., the first to use the title of czar. both these despots cross the stage of history like spectres called up by a nightmare: the former morose, dissimulating, and hypocritical, like louis xi. of france, whom he resembles; the latter demented, fanatical, epileptic, and hot-tempered, clutching his iron pike in hand, with which he transfixed russia as one may transfix a fluttering insect with a pin. but these tyrants, gifted and guided by a saving instinct, created the nation. ivan iii. instituted the succession to the throne, thus suppressing the hurtful practice of partition among brothers, and it was he who finally broke the yoke of the mongols. ivan iv. did more yet; he achieved the actual separation of europe from asia, put down the anarchy of the nobles, and taught them submission to law; and not content with this, he put himself at the head of the scanty literature of his time, and while he widened the domains of russia, he protected within her borders the establishment of the press, until then persecuted as sacrilegious. it is difficult to think what would have become of the russian nation without her great tyrants. therefore it is that the memory of ivan iv. still lives in the popular imagination, and the terrible czar, like pedro the cruel of spain, is neither forgotten nor abhorred. the consolidation of the autocratic idea is easily understood in the light of these historic figures. no wonder that the people accepted it, from a spirit of self-preservation, since it was despotism that sustained them, that formed them, so to speak. it is folly to consider the institutions of a nation as though they were extraneous to it, fruit of an individual will or of a single event; society obeys laws as exact as those which regulate the courses of the stars, and the historian must recognize and fix them. the autocracy and the unity of russia were consolidated together by the genius of ivan iii., who made their emblem the double-headed eagle, and by ivan iv., who sacrificed to them a sea of blood. the municipal autonomies and the petty independent princes frowned, but russia became a true nation; at the beginning of the sixteenth century, the brilliant age of the monarchical principle, no european sovereign could boast of being so thoroughly obeyed as the sovereign prince of moscow. the radical concept of omnipotent power, not tempered as in the west by the humanity of catholicism, at once rushed headlong to oppression and slavery. the ambitious regent boris godonof was not long in attaching the serfs to the soil, and upon the heels of this unscrupulous act followed the dark and bloody days of the false demetrii, in which the serf, irritated by the burden of his chains, welcomed, in every adventurer, in every impostor, a messiah come to redeem him. then the poles, the eternal enemies of russia, seized the kremlin, the swedes threatened to overcome her, and the nation seemed ready to perish had it not been for the heroism of a butcher and a prince; a suggestive example of the saving strength which at supreme moments rises up in every nation. but one more providential tyrant was needed, the greatest of all, the most extraordinary man of russia's history, of the house of romanoff, successor to the extinct dynasty of the terrible ivans. "terrible" might also be applied to the name of the imperial carpenter whose character and destiny are not unlike those of ivan iv. both were precocious in intellect, both were self-educated, and both cooled their hot youth in the hard school of abandonment. out of it came peter the great, determined at all costs to remodel his gigantic empire. herodotus relates how the young anacarsis, on returning from foreign lands wherein he had learned new arts and sciences, came to scythia his native country, and wished to celebrate there a great feast, after the manner of the greeks, in honor of the mother of the gods; hearing of which the king sarillius impaled him with a lance. he tells also how another king who wearied of the scythian mode of living, and craved the customs of the greeks, among whom he had been educated, endeavored to introduce the bacchanalian dances, himself taking part in them. the scythians refused to conform to these novel ideas, and finally cut off the king's head; for, adds the historian, "the scythians detest nothing so much as foreign customs." the tale of herodotus was in danger of being repeated at the beginning of the reign of peter romanoff. with him began the battle, not yet ended, between old russia, which calls itself holy, and new russia, cut after the western pattern. while peter travelled and studied the industry and progress of europe with the idea of bringing them to his byzantine empire, the rebels at home conspired to dethrone this daring innovator who threatened to use fire and sword, whips and scourges, the very implements of barbarism, against barbarism itself. it is a notable fact in russian history that none of her mighty sovereigns was possessed of moral conditions in harmony with the vigor of their intelligence and will force. russia has had great emperors but not good emperors. the halo that wreathes the head of berenguela of castile and isabel the catholic, saint ferdinand, or saint louis,--men and women in whom the ideal of justice seemed to become incarnate,--is lacking to vladimir the baptizer, to ivan iv., to peter the great. among occidental peoples the monarchy owed its prestige and sacred authority to good and just kings, vicars of god on earth, who were impressed with a sense of being called to play a noble part in the drama of history, conscious of grave responsibilities, and sure of having to render an account of their stewardship to a supreme power. the czars present quite a different aspect: they seem to have understood civilization rather by its externals than by its intrinsic doctrines, which demand first of all our inward perfecting, our gradual elevation above the level of the beast, and the continuous affirmation of our dignity. therefore they used material force as their instrument, and spared no means to crown their efforts. but with all it is impossible to withhold a tribute of admiration to peter the great. that fierce despot, gross and vicious, was not only a reformer but a hero. pultowa, which beheld the fall of the power of sweden, justified the reforms and the military organization instituted by the young emperor, and made russia a european power,--a power respected, influential, and great. whatever may be said against war, whatever sentimental comparisons may be made between the founder and the conqueror, it must still be admitted that the monarch who leads his people to victory will lead them _ipse facto_ to new destinies, to a more glorious and intense historic life. if peter the great had vacillated one degree, if he had squandered time and opportunity in studying prudent ways and means for planting his reforms, if his hand had trembled in laying the rod across the backs of his nobles, or had spared the lash upon the flesh of his own son, perhaps he would never have achieved the transformation of his oriental empire into a european state, a transformation which embraced everything,--the navy, the army, public instruction, social relations, commerce, customs, and even the beards of his subjects, the much respected traditional long beards, mercilessly shaven by order of the autocrat. in his zeal for illimitable authority, and that his decrees might meet with no obstacles either in heaven or earth, this czar conceived the bright idea of assuming the spiritual power, and having suppressed the patriarchy and created the synod, he held in his hands the conscience of his people, could count its every pulsation, and wind it up like a well-regulated clock. what considerations, human or divine, will check a man who, like abraham, sacrifices his first-born to an idea, and makes himself the executioner of his own son? the race sign was not obliterated from the russian culture produced by immoral and short-sighted reformers. a woman of low extraction and obscure history, elevated to the imperial purple, was the one to continue the work of peter the great; his daughter's favorite became the protector of public instruction and the founder of the university of moscow; a frivolous and dissolute czarina, elisabeth petrowna, modified the customs, encouraged intellectual pleasures and dramatic representations, and put russia in contact with the latin mind as developed in france; another empress, a parricide, a usurper and libertine, who deserves the perhaps pedantic name of the semiramis of the north given her by voltaire, hid her delinquencies under the splendor of her intellect, the refined delicacy of her artistic tastes, her gifts as a writer, and her magnificence as a sovereign. it was the profound and violent shock administered by the hard hand of peter the great that impelled russia along the road to french culture, and with equal violence she retraced her steps at the invasion of the armies of napoleon. the nobility and the patriots of russia cursed france in french,--the language which had been taught them as the medium of progress; and the nation became conscious of its own individuality in the hour of trial, in the sudden awakening of its independent instincts. but in proportion as the nationality arose in its might, the low murmur of a growing revolution made itself heard. this impulse did not burst first from the hearts of the people, ground down by the patriarchal despotism of old russia, but from the brain of the educated classes, especially the nobility. the first sign of the strife, predestined from the close of the war with the french, was the political repression of the last years of the reign of alexander i., and the famous republican conspiracy of december against nicholas,--an aristocratic outbreak contrived by men in whose veins ran the blood of princes. of these events i shall speak more fully when i come to the subject of nihilism; i merely mention it here in this general glimpse of russian history. menaced by asia, russia had willingly submitted to an absolute power, because, as we have seen, she lacked the elements that had concurred in the formation of modern europe. classic civilization never entered her veins; she had no other light than that which shone from byzantium, nor any other model than that offered by the later empire; she had no place in the great catholic fraternity which had its law and its focus in rome, and the mongolian invasion accomplished her complete isolation. spain also suffered an invasion of a foreign race, but she pulled herself together and sustained herself on a war-footing for seven centuries. russia could not do this, but bent her neck to the yoke of the conqueror. our national character would have chafed indeed to see the kings of asturias and castile, instead of perpetually challenging the moors, become their humble vassals, as the muscovite princes were to the khans. with us the struggle for re-conquest, far from exhausting us, redoubled our thirst for independence,--a thirst born farther back than that time, in spite of leroy-beaulieu's statement, although it was indeed confirmed and augmented during the progress of that hispano-saracenic iliad. the russians being obliged to lay down their arms, to suffer and to wait, assumed, instead of our ungovernable vehemence, a patient resignation. but they none the less considered themselves a nation, and entertained a hope of vindicating their rights, which they accomplished finally in the overthrow of the tartars, and in later days in rising against the french with an impetuosity and spontaneity almost as savage as spain had shown in her memorable days. moreover, russia lacked the elements of historic activity necessary to enable her to play an early part in the work of modern civilization. she had no feudalism, no nobility (as we understand the term), no chivalry, no gothic architecture, no troubadours, no knights. she lacked the intellectual impetus of mediæval courts, the sturdy exercise of scholastic disputations, the elucidations of the problems of the human race, which were propounded by the thirteenth century. she lacked the religious orders, that network which enclosed the wide edifice of catholicism; and the military, uniting in mystic sympathy the ascetic and chivalric sentiments. she lacked the councils of the laws of modern rights; and that her lack might be in nothing lacking, she lacked even the brilliant heresies of the west, the subtle rationalists and pantheists, the abelards and amalrics, whose followers were brilliant ignoramuses or rank bigots roused by a question of ritual. lastly, she lacked the sunny smile of pallas athene and the graces, the renaissance, which brightened the face of europe at the close of the middle ages. and as the civilization brought at last to russia was the product of nations possessed of all that russia lacked, and as finally, it was imposed upon her by force, and without those gradual transitions and insensible modifications as necessary to a people as to an individual, she could not accept it in the frank and cordial manner indispensable to its beneficent action. a nation which receives a culture ready made, and not elaborated by itself, condemns itself to intellectual sterility; at most it can only hope to imitate well. and so it happened with russia. her development does not present the continuous bent, the gentle undulations of european history in which yesterday creates to-day, and to-day prepares for to-morrow, without an irregular or awkward halt, or ever a trace broken. in the social order of russia primitive institutions coexist with products of our spick and span new sociology, and we see the deep waters of the past mixed with the froth of the utopia that points out the route of the unknown future. this confusion or inharmoniousness engenders russian dualism, the cause of her political and moral disturbances. russia contains an ancient people, to-day an anachronism, and a society in embryo struggling to burst its bounds. but above all it is evident there is a people eager to speak, to come forth, to have a weight in the world, because its long-deferred time has come; a race which, from an insignificant tribe mewed in around the sources of the dnieper, has spread out into an immense nation, whose territory reaches from the baltic to the pacific, from the arctic to the borders of turkey, persia, and china; a nation which has triumphed over sweden, poland, the turks, the mongols, and the french; a nation by nature expansive, colonizing, mighty in extent, most interesting in the qualities of the genius it is developing day by day, and which is more astonishing than its material greatness, because it is the privilege of intellect to eclipse force. half a dozen brains and spirits who are now spelling out their race for us, arrest and captivate all who contemplate this great empire. out of the poverty of traditions and institutions which russian history bewails, two characteristic ones appear as bases of national life: the autocracy, and the agrarian commune,--absolute imperial power and popular democracy. the geography of russia, which predisposes her both to unity and to invasion, which obliges her to concentrate herself, and to seek in a vigorous autocratic principle the consciousness of independent being as a people, created the formidable dominion of the muscovite czars, which has no equal in the world. like all primordial russian ideas, the plan of this cæsarian sovereignty proceeded from byzantium, and was founded by greek refugee priests, who surrounded it with the aureole of divinity indispensable to the establishment of advantageous superstitions so fecund in historical results. since the twelfth century the autocracy has been a fixed fact, and has gone on assuming all the prerogatives, absorbing all the power, and symbolizing in the person of one man this colossal nation. the sovereign princes, discerning clearly the object and end of these aims, have spared no means to attain to it. they began by checking the proud boyars in their train, reducing them from companions and equals to subjects; later on they devoted themselves to the suppression of all institutions of democratic character. for the sake of those who judge of a race by the political forms it uses, it should be observed that russia has not only preserved latent in her the spirit of democracy, but that she possessed in the middle ages republican institutions more liberal and radical than any in the rest of europe. the italian republics, which at bottom were really oligarchies, cannot compare with the municipal and communist republics of viatka, pskof, and especially the great city of novgorod, which called itself with pride lord novgorod the great. the supreme power there resided in an assembly of the citizens; the prince was content to be an administrator or president elected by free suffrage, and above all an ever-ready captain in time of war; on taking his office he swore solemnly to respect the laws, customs, and privileges of the republic; if he committed a perjury, the assembly convened in the public square at the clang of an ancient bell, and the prince, having been declared a traitor, was stripped, expelled, and _cast into the mud_, according to the forcible popular expression. this industrious republic reached the acme of its prosperity in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, after which the rising principality of moscow, now sure of its future, came and took down the bells of novgorod the great, and so silenced their voices of bronze and the voice of russian liberties, though not without a bloody battle, as witnesseth the whirlpool--which is still pointed out to the curious traveller--under the bridge of the ancient republican city, whose inhabitants were drowned there by ivan the terrible. upon their dead bodies he founded the unity of the empire. nor are the free towns the only tradition of autonomy which disturbed the growing autocratic power. the cossacks for a long time formed an independent and warlike aristocracy, proud and indomitable; and to subdue and incorporate these bellicose tribes with the rest of the nation it was necessary to employ both skill and force. we may say without vanity that although the spaniards exalted monarchical loyalty into a cult, they never depreciated human dignity. amongst us the king is he who makes right (_face derecho_), and if he makes it not, we consider him a tyrant, a usurper of the royal prerogative; in acknowledging him lord of life and property, we protest (by the mouth of calderon's honest rustic) against the idea that he can arrogate to himself also the dominion over conscience and soul; and the smallest subject in spain would not endure at the king's hand the blows administered by peter the great for the correction of his nobles, themselves descendants of rurik. in russia, where the inequalities and extremes of climate seem to have been communicated to its institutions, there was nothing between the independent republics and the autocracy. in spain, the slightest territorial disaffection, the fruit of partial conquests or insignificant victories, was an excuse for some upstart princeling, our instinctive tendencies being always monarchical and anything like absolute authority and cæsarism, so odious that we never allowed it even in our most excellent kings; a dream of imperial power would almost have cost them the throne. in russia, absolutism is in the air,--one sole master, one lord omnipotent, the image of god himself. read the muscovite code. the czar is named therein _the autocrat whose power is unlimited_. see the catechism which is taught in the schools of poland; it says that the subject owes to the czar, not love or loyalty, but adoration. hear the russian hymn; amid its harmonies the same idea resounds. in all the common forms of salutation to the czar we shall find something that excites in us a feeling of rebellion, something that represents us as unworthy to stand before him as one mortal before another. paul i. said to a distinguished foreigner, "you must know that in russia there is no person more important than the person to whom i speak and while i speak." a czar who directs by means of _ukases_ not only the dress but even the words of the language which his subjects must use, and changes the track of a railroad by a stroke of his pen, frightens one even more than when he signs a sentence of proscription; for he reaches the high-water mark of authority when he interferes in these simple and unimportant matters, and demonstrates what one may call the micrography of despotism. if anything can excuse or even commend to our eyes this obedience carried to an absurdity, it is its paternal character. there are no offences between fathers and sons, and the czar never can insult a subject. the serf calls him _thou_ and _father_, and on seeing him pass he takes off his cap though the snow falls, crossing his hands over his breast with religious veneration. for him the czar possesses every virtue, and is moved only by the highest purposes; he thinks him impeccable, sacred, almost immortal. if we abide by the judgment of those who see a symbol of the russian character in the call of rurik and the voluntary placing of the power in his hands, the autocracy will not seem a secular abuse or a violent tyranny, but rather an organic product of a soil and a race; and it will inspire the respect drawn forth by any spontaneous and genuine production. there exists in russia a small school of thinkers on public affairs, important by reason of the weight they have had and still have upon public opinion. they are called sclavophiles,--people enamoured of their ancient land, who affirm that the essence of russian nationality is to be found in the customs and institutions of the laboring classes who are not contaminated by the artificial civilization imported from the corrupt west; who make a point of appearing on occasions in the national dress,--the red silk blouse and velvet jacket, the long beard and the clumsy boots. according to them, the only independent forces on which russia can count are the people and the czar,--the immense herd of peasants, and, at the top, the autocrat. and in fact the russian empire, in spite of official hierarchies, is a rural state in which the sentiment of democratic equality predominates so entirely that the people, not content with having but yesterday taken the czar's part against the rich and mighty boyars, sustains him to-day against the revolution, loves him, and cannot conceive of intermediaries between him and his subjects, between lord and vassal, or, to put it still more truly, between father and son. and having once reduced the nobles, with the consent of the people, to the condition of inoffensive hangers-on of the court, many thinkers believe that the czar need only lean upon the rude hand of the peasant to quell whatever political disaffection may arise. so illimitable is the imperial power, that it becomes impotent against itself if it would reduce itself by relegating any of its influence to a class, such as, for instance, the aristocracy. if turbulent magnates or sullen conspirators manage to get rid of the person of the czar, the principle still remains inviolate. vi. the agrarian communes. at the right hand of the imperial power stands the second russian national institution, the municipal commune known as the _mir_, which is arresting the attention of european statesmen and sociologists, since they have learned of its existence (thanks to the work of baron haxsthausen on the internal life of russia). who is not astonished at finding realized in the land of the despots a large number of the communist theories which are the terror of the middle classes in liberal countries, and various problems, of the kind we call formidable, there practically solved? and why should not a nation often called barbarous swell with pride at finding itself, suddenly and without noise or effort, safely beyond what in others threatens the extremity of social revolution? therefore it happens that since the discovery of the _mir_, the russians have one argument more, and not a weak one, against the corrupt civilization of the occident. the european nations, they say, are running wildly toward anarchy, and in some, as england, the concentration of property in a few hands creates a proletariat a thousand times more unhappy than the russian serf ever was, a hungry horde hostile to the state and to the wealthy classes. russia evades this danger by means of the _mir_. in the russian village the land belongs to the municipality, amongst whose members it is distributed periodically; each able-bodied individual receives what he needs, and is spared hunger and disgrace. foreigners have not been slow to examine into the advantages of such an arrangement. mackenzie wallace has pronounced it to be truly constitutional, as the phrase is understood in his country; not meaning a sterile and delusive law, written upon much paper and enwrapped in formulas, but a traditional concept which came forth at the bidding of real and positive necessities. what an eloquent lesson for those who think they have improved upon the plan of the ages! history, scouting our thirst for progress, offers us again in the _mir_ the picture of the serpent biting his own tail. this institution, so much lauded by the astonished traveller and the meditative philosopher, is really a sociological fossil, remains of prehistoric times, preserved in russia by reason of the suspension or slow development of the history of the race. students of law have told me that in the ancient forms of castilian realty, those of santander, for example, there have been discovered traces of conditions analogous to the russian _mir_. and when i have seen the peasants of my own province assembled in the church-porch after mass, i have imagined i could see the remains of this saturnian and patriarchal type of communist partition. common possession of the land is a primitive idea as remote as the prehistoric ages; it belongs to the paleontology of social science, and in those countries where civilization early flourished, gave way before individual interest and the modern idea of property. "happy age and blessed times were those," exclaimed don quixote, looking at a handful of acorns, "which the ancients called golden, and not because gold which in our iron age has such a value set on it, not because gold could be got without any trouble, but because those who lived in it were ignorant of those two words, _mine_ and _thine_! in that blessed age everything was in common; nobody needed to take any more trouble for his necessities than to stretch forth his hand and take from the great oak-trees the sweet and savory fruit so liberally offered!" gone long ago for us is the time deplored by the ingenious knight, but it has reappeared there in the north, where, according to our information, it is still recent; for it is thought that the _mir_ was established about the sixteenth century. the character of the _mir_ is entirely democratic; the oldest peasant represents the executive power in the municipal assembly, but the authority resides in the assembly itself, which consists of all the heads of families, and convenes sundays in the open air, in the public square or the church-porch. the assembly wields a sacred power which no one disputes. next to the czar the russian peasant loves his _mir_, among whose members the land is in common, as also the lake, the mills, the canals, the flocks, the granary, the forest. it is all re-divided from time to time, in order to avoid exclusive appropriation. half the cultivable land in the empire is subject to this system, and no capitalist or land-owner can disturb it by acquiring even an inch of municipal territory; the laborer is born invested with the right of possession as certainly as we are all entitled to a grave. in spite of a feeling of distrust and antipathy against communism, and of my own ignorance in these matters which precludes my judgment of them, i must confess to a certain agreement with the ardent apologists of the russian agrarian municipality. tikomirov says that in russia individual and collective property-rights still quarrel, but that the latter has the upper hand; this seems strange, since the modern tendency is decidedly toward individualism, and it is hard to conceive of a return to patriarchal forms; but there is no reason to doubt the vitality of the _mir_ and its generation and growth in the heart of the fatherland, and this is certainly worthy of note, especially in a country like russia, so much given to the imitation of foreign models. mere existence and permanence is no _raison d'être_ for any institution, for many exist which are pernicious and abominable; but when an institution is found to be in harmony with the spirit of the people, it must have a true merit and value. it is said that the tendency to aggregate, either in agrarian municipalities or in trades guilds and corporations, is born in the blood and bred in the bone of the sclavs, and that they carry out these associations wherever they go, by instinct, as the bee makes its cells always the same; and it is certainly true that as an ethnic force the communistic principle claims a right to develop itself in russia. it is certain that the _mir_ fosters in the poor russian village habits of autonomous administration and municipal liberty, and that in the shadow of this humble and primitive institution men have found a common home within the fatherland, no matter how scattered over its vast plains. "the heavens are very high, and the czar is far off," says the russian peasant sadly, when he is the victim of any injustice; his only refuge is the _mir_, which is always close at hand. the _mir_ acts also as a counterbalance to a centralized administration, which is an inevitable consequence of the conformation of russian territory; and it creates an advantageous solidarity among the farmers, who are equal owners of the same heritages and subject to the same taxes. since the rural governments, released from all seignorial obligations, elect their officers from among themselves, and the smaller municipal groups, still preserving each its own autonomy, meet together in one larger municipal body called _volost_, which corresponds to the better-known term _canton_. no institution could be more democratic: here the laboring man discusses his affairs _en famille_, without interference from other social classes; the _mir_ boasts of it, as also of the fact that it has never in its corporate existence known head or chief, even when its members were all serfs. in fine, the _mir_ holds its sessions without any presiding officer; rooted in the communist and equal-rights idea, it acknowledges no law of superiority; it votes by unanimous acclamation; the minority yields always to the general opinion, to oppose which would be thought base obstinacy. "only god shall judge the _mir_" says the proverb; the word _mir_, say the etymological students and admirers of the institution, means, "world," "universe," "complete and perfect microcosm," which is sufficient unto itself and is governed by its own powers. to what does the _mir_ owe its vitality? to the fact that it did not originate in the mind of the utopian or the ideologist, but was produced naturally by derivation from the family, from which type the whole russian state organization springs. it should be understood, however, that the peasant family in russia differs from our conception of the institution, recalling as it does, like all purely russian institutions, the most ancient or prehistoric forms. the family, or to express it in the language of the best writers on the subject, _the great russian family_, is an association of members submitted to the absolute authority of the eldest, generally the grandfather,--a fact personally interesting to me because of the surprising resemblance it discloses between russia and the province of gallicia, where i perceive traces of this family power in the _petrucios_, or elders. in this association everything is in common, and each individual works for all the others. to the head of the house is given a name which may be translated as administrator, major-domo, or director of works, but conveys no idea of relationship. the laws of inheritance and succession are understood in the same spirit, and very differently from our custom. when a house or an estate is to be settled, the degree of relationship among the heirs is not considered; the whole property is divided equally between the male adults, including natural or adopted sons if they have served in the family the same as legitimate sons, while the married daughter is considered as belonging to the family of her husband, and she and the son who has separated himself from the parent house are excluded from the succession, or rather from the final liquidation or settlement between the associates. although there is a law of inheritance written in the russian code, it is a dead letter to a people opposed to the idea of individual property. intimately connected with this communist manner of interpreting the rights of inheritance and succession are certain facts in russian history. for a long time the sovereign authority was divided among the sons of the ruler; and as the russian nobility rebelled against the establishment of differences founded upon priority in birth, entail and primogeniture took root with difficulty, in spite of the efforts made by the emperors to import occidental forms of law. their idea of succession is so characteristic that, like the goths, they sometimes prefer the collateral to the immediate branch, and the brother instead of the son will mount the steps of the throne. it is important to note these radical differences, because a race which follows an original method in the matter of its laws has a great advantage in setting out upon genuine literary creations. but while the family, understood as a group or an association, offers many advantages from the agrarian point of view, its disadvantages are serious and considerable because it annuls individual liberty. it facilitates agricultural labors, it puts a certain portion of land at the service of each adult member, as well as tools, implements, fuel, and cattle; helps each to a maintenance; precludes hunger; avoids legal exactions (for the associated family cannot be taxed, just as the _mir_ cannot be deprived of its lands); but on the other hand it puts the individual, or rather the true family, the human pair, under an intolerable domestic tyranny. according to traditional usage, the authority of the head of the family was omnipotent: he ordered his house, as says an old proverb, like a khan of the crimea; his gray hairs were sacred, and he wielded the power of a tribal chieftain rather than of a head of a house. in our part of the world marriage emancipates; in russia, it was the first link in a galling chain. the oppression lay heaviest upon the woman: popular songs recount the sorrows of the daughters-in-law subjected to the maltreatment of mothers-in-law and sisters-in-law, or the victims of the vicious appetites of the chief, who in a literally biblical spirit thought himself lord of all that dwelt beneath his roof. truly those institutions which sometimes elicit our admiration for their patriarchal simplicity hide untold iniquities, and develop a tendency to the abuse of power which seems inherent in the human species. at first sight nothing could be more attractive than the great russian family, nothing more useful than the rural communes; and nowadays, when we are applying the laws and technicism of physiology to the study of society, this primordial association would seem the cell from which the true organism of the state may be born; the family is a sort of lesser municipality, the municipality is a larger family, and the whole russian people is an immense agglomeration, a great ant-hill whose head is the emperor. in the popular songs we see the oriental idea of the nation expressed as the family, when the peasant calls the czar _father_. but this primitive machinery can never prevail against the notion of individualism entertained among civilized peoples. our way of understanding property, which the admirers of the russian commune consider fundamentally vicious, is the only way compatible with the independence and dignity of work and the development of industries and arts. the russian _mir_ may prevent the growth of the proletariat, but it is by putting mankind in bonds. it may be said that agrarian communism only differs from servitude in that the latter provides one master and the former many; and that though the laboring man theoretically considers himself a member of a co-operative agricultural society, he is in reality a slave, subject to collective responsibilities and obligations, by virtue of which he is tied to the soil the same as the vassals of our feudal epochs. perhaps the new social conditions which are the fruit of the emancipation of the serfs, which struck at and violated the great associated family, will at last undermine the _mir_, unless the _mir_ learns some way to adapt itself to any political mutations. what is most important to the study of the historical development and the social ideas as shown in modern russian literature, is to understand how by means of the great family and the agrarian municipality, communism and socialism run in the veins of the people of russia, so that leroy-beaulieu could say with good reason, that if they are to be preserved from the pernicious effects of the occidental proletariat it must be by inoculation, as vaccination exempts from small-pox. the socialist leaven may be fairly said to lie in the most important class in the russian state,--important not alone by reason of numerical superiority, but because it is the depositary of the liveliest national energies and the custodian of the future: i mean the peasants. there are some who think that this _mitjik_, this _little man_ or _black man_, tiller of still blacker soil, holds the future destinies of europe in his hands; and that when this great new horde becomes conscious some day of its strength and homogeneity, it will rise, and in its concentrated might fall upon some portion of the globe, and there will be no defence or resistance possible. in the rest of europe it is the cities, the urban element, which regulates the march of political events. certainly spain is not ignorant of this fact, since she has a vivid remembrance of civil wars in which the rustic element, representing tradition, was vanquished. in russia, the cities have no proportionate influence, and that which demands the special attention of the governor or the revolutionist is the existence, needs, and thoughts of the innumerable peasant communities, who are the foundation and material of an empire justly termed rural. from this is derived a sort of cult, an apotheosis which is among the most curious to be found in russian modern literature. of the peasant, wrapped in badly cured sheepskins, and smelling like a beast; the humble and submissive peasant, yesterday laden with the chains of servitude; the dirty, cabbage-eating peasant, drunk with _wodka_, who beats his wife and trembles with fright at ghosts, at the devil, and at thunder,--of this peasant, the charity of his friends and the poetic imagination of russian writers has made a demi-god, an ideal. so great is the power of genius, that without detriment to the claims of truth, picturing him with accurate and even brutal realism (which we shall find native to the russian novel), russian authors have distilled from this peasant a poetic essence which we inhale involuntarily until we, aristocratic by instinct, disdainful of the rustic, given to ridicule the garlic-smelling herd, yield to its power. and not content with seeing in this peasant a brother, a neighbor, whom, according to the word of christ, we ought to love and succor, russian literature discovers in him a certain indefinable sublimity, a mysterious illumination which other social classes have not. not merely because of the introduction of the picturesque element in the description of popular customs has it been said that russian contemporary literature smells of the peasant, but far rather because it raises the peasant to the heights of human moral grandeur, marks in him every virtue, and presupposes him possessed of powers which he never puts forth. from turguenief, fine poet as he is, to chtchédrine, the biting satirist, all paint the peasant with loving touch, always find a ready excuse for his defects, and lend him rare qualities, without ever failing to show faithfully his true physiognomy. corruption, effeminacy, and vice characterize the upper classes, particularly the employees of government, or any persons charged with public trusts; and to make these the more odious, they are attributed with a detestable hypocrisy made more hateful by apparent kindliness and culture. there is a humorous little novel by chtchédrine (an author who merits especial mention) entitled "the generals[ ] and the _mujik_," which represents two generals of the most ostentatious sort, transported to a desert island, unable either to get food or to get away, until they meet with a _mujik_, who performs all sorts of services for them, even to _making broth in the hollow of his hand_, and then, after making a raft, conveys them safely to st. petersburg; whereupon these knavish generals, after recovering back pay, send to their deliverer a glass of whiskey and a sum amounting to about three cents. but this bitter allegory is a mild one compared with the mystical apotheosis of the _mujik_ as conceived by tolstoï. in one of his works, "war and peace," the hero, after seeking vainly by every imaginable means to understand all human wisdom and divine revelation, finds at last the sum of it in a common soldier, imperturbable and dull of soul, and poor in spirit, a prisoner of the french, who endures with calm resignation ill treatment and death without once entertaining the idea of taking the life of his foreign captors. this poor fellow, who, owing to his rude, uncouth mode of life, suffers persecution by other importunate lesser enemies which i forbear to name, is the one to teach pierre besukof the alpha and omega of all philosophy, wherein he is wise by intuition, and, in virtue of his condition as the peasant, fatalistic and docile. i have had the good fortune to see with my own eyes this idol of russian literature, and to satisfy a part of my curiosity concerning some features of holy russia. twenty or thirty peasants from smolensk who had been bitten by a rabid wolf were sent to paris to be treated by m. pasteur. in company with some russian friends i went to a small hotel, mounted to the fourth floor, and entered a narrow sleeping apartment. the air being breathed by ten or twelve human beings was scarcely endurable, and the fumes of carbolic acid failed to purify it; but while my companions were talking with their compatriots, and a russian young-lady medical student dressed their wounds, i studied to my heart's content these men from a distant land. i frankly confess that they made a profound impression upon me which i can only describe by saying that they seemed to me like biblical personages. it gave me a certain pleasure to see in them the marks of an ancient people, rude and rough in outward appearance, but with something majestic and monumental about them, and yet with a suggestion of latent juvenility, the grave and religious air of dreamer or seer, different from really oriental peoples. their features, as well as their limbs (which bearing the marks of the wild beast's teeth they held out to be washed and dressed with tranquil resignation), were large and mighty like a tree. one old man took my attention particularly, because he presented a type of the patriarchs of old, and might have served the painter as a model for abraham or job,--a wide skull bald at the top, fringed about with yellowish white hair like a halo; a long beard streaked with white also; well-cut features, frontal development very prominent, his eyes half hidden beneath bushy eyebrows. the arm which he uncovered was like an old tree-trunk, rough and knotty, the thick sinuous network of veins reminding one of the roots; his enormous hands, wrinkled and horny, bespoke a life of toil, of incessant activity, of daily strife with the energies of mother nature. i heard with delight, though without understanding a word, their guttural speech, musical and harmonious withal, and i needed not to heat my imagination overmuch to see in those poor peasants the realization of the great novelists' descriptions, and an expression of patience and sadness which raised them above vulgarity and coarseness. the sadness may have been the result of their unhappy situation; nevertheless it seemed sweet and poetic. the attraction which _the people_ exercises upon refined and cultivated minds is not surprising. who has not sometimes experienced with terrible keenness what may be called the æsthetic effect of collectivity? a regiment forming, the crew of a ship about to weigh anchor, a procession, an angry mob,--these have something about them that is epic and sublime; so any peasant, if we see in him an epitome of race or class, with his historic consequence and his unconscious majesty, may and ought to interest us. the _payo_ of avila who passes me indifferently in the street; the beggar in burgos who asks an alms with courteous dignity, wrapped in his tattered clothes as though they were garments of costly cloth; the gallician lad who guides his yoke of oxen and creaking cart,--these not only stir in my soul a sentiment of patriotism, but they have for me an æsthetic charm which i never feel in the presence of a dress-coat and a stiff hat. perhaps this effect depends rather on the spectator, and it may be our fancy that produces it; for, as regards the russian peasant, those who know him well say that he is by nature practical and positive, and not at all inclined to the romantic and sentimental. the sclav race is a rich poetic wellspring, but it depends upon what one means by poetry. for example, in love matters, the russian peasant is docile and prosaic to the last degree. the hardy rustic is supposed to need two indispensable accessories for his work,--a woman and a horse; the latter is procured for him by the head or _old man_ of the house, the former by the _old woman_; the wedding is nothing more than the matriculation of the farmer; the pair is incorporated with the great family, the agricultural commune, and that is the end of the idyl. amorous and gallant conduct among peasants would be little fitting, given the low estimation in which women are held. although the russian peasant considers the woman independent, subject neither to father nor husband, invested with equal rights with men; and although the widow or the unmarried woman who is head of the house takes part in the deliberations of the _mir_ and may even exercise in it the powers of a mayor (and in order to preserve this independence many peasant-women remain unmarried), this consideration is purely a social one, and individually the woman has no rights whatever. a song of the people says that seven women together have not so much as one soul, rather none at all, for their soul is smoke. the theory of marriage relations is that the husband ought to love his wife as he does his own soul, to measure and treasure her as he does his sheepskin coat: the rod sanctions the contract. in some provinces of finnish or tartar origin the bride is still bought and sold like a head of cattle; it is sometimes the custom still to steal her, or to feign a rape, symbolizing indeed the idea of woman as a slave and the booty of war. so rigorous is the matrimonial yoke, that parricides are numerous, and the jury, allowing attenuating circumstances, generally pardons them. tikomirov, who, though a radical, is a wise and sensible man, says, that far from considering the masses of the people as models worthy of imitation, he finds them steeped in absolute ignorance, the victims of every abuse and of administrative immorality; deprived for many centuries of intercourse with civilized nations, they have not outgrown the infantile period, they are superstitious, idolatrous, and pagan, as shown by their legends and popular songs. they believe blindly in witchcraft, to the extent that to discredit a political party with them one has only to insinuate that it is given to the use of sorcery and the black arts. the peasant has also an unconquerable propensity to stealing, lying, servility, and drunkenness. wherefore, then, is he judged superior to the other classes of society? in spite of the puerile humility to which the russian peasant is predisposed by long years of subjection, he yet obeys a democratic impulse toward equality, which servitude has not obliterated; the russian does not understand the english peasant's respect for the _gentleman_, nor the french reverence for the _chevalier_ well-dressed and decorated. when the government of poland ordered certain cossack executions of the nobility, these children of the steppes asked one another, "brother, has the shadow of my body increased?" taught to govern himself, thanks to the municipal regimen, the russian peasant manifests in a high degree the sentiment of human equality, an idea both christian and democratic, rather more deeply rooted in those countries governed by absolute monarchy and municipal liberty, than in those of parliamentary institutions. the spaniard says, "none lower than the king;" the russian says the same with respect to the czar. primitive and credulous, a philosopher in his way, the dweller on the russian steppes wields a dynamic force displayed in history by collectivities, be the moral value of the individual what it may. in nations like russia, in which the upper classes are educated abroad, and are, like water, reflectors and nothing more, the originality, the poetry, the epic element, is always with the masses of the people, which comes out strong and beautiful in supreme moments, a faithful custodian of the national life, as for example when the butcher minine saved his country from the yoke of sweden, or when, before the french invasion of , they organized bands of guerillas, or set fire to moscow. hence in russia, as in france prior to the revolution, many thinkers endeavor to revive the antiquated theory of the genevan philosopher, and proclaim the superiority of the natural man, by contact with whom society, infected with occidental senility, must be regenerated. discouraged by the incompatibility between the imported european progress and the national tradition, unable to still the political strife of a country where pessimist solutions are most natural and weighty, their patriotism now uplifts, now shatters their hopes, even in the case of those who disclaim and condemn individual patriotism, such as count tolstoï; and then ensues the apotheosis of the past, the veneration of national heroes and of the people. "the people is great," says turguenief in his novel "smoke;" "we are mere ragamuffins." and so _the people_, which still bears traces of the marks of servitude, has been converted into a mysterious divinity, the inspiration of enthusiastic canticles. [ ] voguié explains this title of "general" to be both in the civil and military order with the qualification of "excellency." without living in russia one can hardly understand the prestige attached to this title, or the facilities it gives everywhere for everything. to attain this dignity is the supreme ambition of all the servants of the state. the common salutation by way of pleasantry among friends is this line from the comedy of griboiëdof, which has become a proverb: "i wish you health and the tchin of a general."--tr. vii. social classes in russia. properly speaking, there are no social classes in russia, a phenomenon which explains to some extent the political life and internal constitution; there is no co-ordinate proportion between the rural and the urban element, and at first sight one sees in this vast empire only the innumerable mass of peasants, just as on the map one sees only a wide and monotonous plain. although it is true that a rural and commercial aristocracy did arise and flourish in old moscow in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, the era of invasions, yet the passions of the wars that followed gave it the death-blow. the middle classes in the rich and independent republics lost their wealth and influence, and the people, being unable of themselves to reorganize the state, sustained the princes, who soon became autocrats, ready at the first chance to subdue the nobles and unite the disintegrated and war-worn nation. with the sub-division into independent principalities and the institution of democratic municipalities the importance of the cities decreased, and the privileged classes were at an end. the middle class is the least important. in the same districts where formerly it was most powerful it has been dissolved by the continuous infusion of the peasant element, owing to the curious custom of emigration, which is spontaneous with this nomadic and colonizing people. many farmers, although enrolled in the rural villages, spend a large part of the year in the city, filling some office, and forming a hybrid class between the rural and artisan classes, thus sterilizing the natural instincts of the laboring proletariat by the enervation of city life. the emperors were not blind to the disproportion between the civic and rural elements, and have endeavored to remedy it. the industrial and commercial population fled from the cities to escape the taxes; therefore they promulgated laws prohibiting emigration and the renunciation of civic rights, under severe penalties. yet with all these the cities have taken but a second place in russian history. western annals are full of sieges, defences, and mutinies of cities; in russia we hear only of the insurrection of wandering tribes or hordes of peasants. russian cities exist and live only at the mandate or protection of the emperor. every one knows what extraordinary means were taken by peter the great to build st. petersburg upon the swamps along the neva; in twenty-three years that remarkable woman called the semiramis of the north founded no less than two hundred and sixteen cities, determined to create a mesocratic element, to the lack of which she attributed the ignorance and misery of her empire. whenever we see any rapid advancement in russia we may be sure it is the work of autocracy, a beneficence of despotism (that word so shocking to our ears). it was despotism which created the modern capital opposite the old byzantine, legendary, retrogressive town,--the new so different from the old, so full of the revolutionary spirit, its streets undermined by conspirators, its pavements red with the blood of a murdered czar. these cities, colleges, schools, universities, theatres, founded by imperial and autocratic hands, were the cradle of the political unrest that rebels against their power; were there no cities, there would be no revolutions in russia. although they do not harbor crowds of famishing authors like those of london and paris, who lie in wait for the day of sack and ruin, yet they are full of a strange element composed of people of divers extraction and condition, and of small intellect, but who call themselves emphatically _the intelligence of russia_. i have felt compelled to render justice to the good will of the autocrats; and to be equally just i must say that whatever has advanced culture in russia has proceeded from the nobility, and this without detriment to the fact that the larger energies lie with the masses of the people. the enlightenment and thirst for progress manifested by the nobility is everywhere apparent in russian history. they are descended from the retinues of the early muscovite czars, to whom were given wealth and lands on condition of military service, and they are therefore in their origin unlike any other european nobility; they have known nothing of feudalism, nor the germanic symbolism of blazons, arms, titles, and privileges, pride of race and notions of caste: these have had no influence over them. the boyars, who are the remnants of the ancient territorial aristocracy, on losing their sovereign rights, rallied round the czar in the quality of court councillors, and received gold and treasure in abundance, but never the social importance of the spanish grandee or the french baron. hence the russian aristocracy was an instrument of power, but without class interests, replenished continually by the infusion of elements from other social classes, for no barrier prevented the peasant from becoming a merchant and the merchant from becoming a noble, if the fates were kind. there are legally two classes of aristocracy in russia,--the transmissible, or hereditary, and the personal, which is not hereditary. if the latter surprise us for a moment, it soon strikes us with favor, since we all acknowledge to an occasional or frequent protest against the idea of hereditary nobility, as when we lament that men of glorious renown are represented by unworthy or insignificant descendants. in russia, krilof, the Æsop of moscow, as he is called, put this protest into words in the fable of the peasant who was leading a flock of geese to the city to sell. the geese complained of the unkindness with which they were treated, adding that they were entitled to respect as being the descendants of the famous birds that saved the capitol, and to whom rome had dedicated a feast. "and what great thing have _you_ done?" asked the peasant. "we? oh, nothing." "then to the oven!" he replied. the only title of purely national origin in russia is that of prince;[ ] all others are of recent importation from europe; in the family of the prince, as in that of the humblest _mujik_, the sons are equals in rights and honors, and the fortune of the father, as well as his title, descends equally to all. feudalism, the basis of nobility as a class, never existed in russia: according to sclavophiles, because russia never suffered conquest in those ancient times; according to positivist historians, by reason of geographical structure which did not favor seignorial castles and bounded domains, or any other of those appurtenances of feudalism dear to romance and poetry, and really necessary to its existence,--the moated wall, the mole overhanging some rocky precipice washed by an angry torrent, and below at its foot, like a hen-roost beneath a vulture's nest, the clustered huts of the vassals. but we have seen that the russian nobility acknowledges no law of superiority; like the people, they hold the idea of divisible and common property. hence this aristocracy, less haughty than that of europe, ruled by imperial power, subject until the time of peter iii. to insulting punishment by whip or rod, and which, at the caprice of the czar, might at any time be degraded to the quality of buffoons for any neglect of a code of honor imposed by the traditions of their race,--never drew apart from the life of the nation, and, on the contrary, was always foremost in intellectual matters. russian literature proves this, for it is the work of the russian nobility mainly, and the ardent sympathy for the people displayed in it is another confirmation. tolstoï, a noble, feels an irrepressible tenderness, a physical attraction toward the peasant; turguenief, a noble and a rich man, in his early years consecrated himself by a sort of vow to the abolition of servitude. the same lack of class prejudices has made the russian nobility a quick soil for the repeated ingrafting of foreign culture according to the fancy of the emperors. catherine ii. found little difficulty in modelling her court after that of versailles; but the same aristocracy that powdered and perfumed itself at her behest adopted more important reforms to a degree that caused count rostopchine to exclaim, "i can understand the french citizen's lending a hand in the revolution to acquire his rights, but i cannot understand the russian's doing the same to lose his." they are so accustomed to holding the first place in intellectual matters, that no privilege seems comparable to that of standing in the vanguard of advanced thought. they had been urged to frequent the lyceums and debating societies, to take up serious studies and scientific education by the word of rulers who were enlightened, and friends to progress (as were many of them), when all at once sciences and studies, books and the press, began to be suspected, the censorship was established, and the conspiracy of december was the signal for the rupture between authority and the liberal thought of the country. but the nobles who had tasted of the fruit of the knowledge of good and evil did not resign themselves easily to the limited horizon offered by the school of pages or the antechamber of the palace; their hand was upon the helm, and rather than let it go they generously immolated their material interests and social importance. the aristocracy is everywhere else the support of the throne, but in russia it is a destroying element; and while the people remains attached to the autocrat, the nobles learn in the very schools founded by the emperors to pass judgment upon the supreme authority and to criticise the sovereign. nicholas i. did not fail to realize that these establishments of learning were focuses of revolutionary ardor, and he systematically reduced the number of students and put limits to scientific education. it follows that the most reactionary class, or the most unstable class in russia, the class painted in darkest colors by the novelists and used as a target for their shafts by the satirists, is not the noble but the bureaucratic, the office-holders, the members of the _tchin_ (an institution asiatic in form, comparable perhaps to a chinese mandarinate). peter the great, in his zeal to set everything in order, drew up the famous categories wherein the russian official microcosm is divided into a double series of fourteen grades each, from ecclesiastical dignitaries to the military. this asiatic sort of machinery (though conceived by the great imitator of the west) became generally abhorred, and excited a national antipathy, less perhaps for its hollow formalism than on account of the proverbial immorality of the officers catalogued in it. mercenariness, pride, routine, and indolence are the capital sins of the russian office-holder, and the first has so strong a hold upon him that the people say, "to make yourself understood by him you must talk of rubles;" adding that in russia everybody robs but christ, who cannot because his hands are nailed down. corruption is general; it mounts upward like a turbid wave from the humblest clerk to the archduke, generalissimo, or admiral. it is a tremendous ulcer, that can only be cured by a cautery of literary satire, the avenging muse of gogol, and the dictatorial initiative of the czars. in a country governed by parliamentary institutions it would be still more difficult to apply a remedy. the contrast is notable between the odium inspired by the bureaucracy and the sympathy that greets the municipal institutions,--not only those of a patriarchal character such as the _mir_, but those too of a more modern origin. among the latter may be mentioned the _zemstvo_, or territorial assembly, analogous to our provincial deputations, but of more liberal stripe, and entirely decentralized. in this all classes are represented, and not, as in the _mir_, the peasants merely. the form of this local parliament is extremely democratic; the cities, the peasants, and the property-holders elect separate representatives, and the assembly devotes itself to the consideration of plain but interesting practical questions of hygiene, salubrity, safety, and public instruction. this offers another opportunity to the nobility, for this body engages itself particularly with the well-being and progress of the poorer classes, in providing physicians for the villages in place of the ignorant herb-doctors, in having the _mujiks_ taught to read, and in guarding their poor wooden houses from fire. while the russian nobility has never slept, the russian clergy, on the contrary, has been permanently wrapped in lethargy. the rôle accorded to the greek church is dull and depressing, a petrified image, fixed and archaic as the _icons_, or sacred pictures, which still copy the coloring and design of the byzantine epoch. ever since it was rent by schism from the parent trunk of catholicism, life has died in its roots and the sap has frozen in its veins. since peter the great abolished the patriarchy, the ecclesiastical authority resides in a synod composed of prelates elected by the government. according to the ecclesiastical statutes, the emperor is head of the church, supreme spiritual chief; and though there has been promulgated no dogma of his infallibility, it amounts to the same in effect, for he may bind and loose at will. at the czar's command the church anathematizes, as when for example to-day the _popes_ are ordered to preach against the growing desire for partition of land, against socialism, and against the political enemies of the government; the priest is given a model sermon after which he must pattern his own; and such is his humiliation that sometimes he is obliged by order of the synod to send information, obtained through his office as confessor, to the police, thus revealing the secrets of confiding souls. what a loss of self-respect must follow such a proceeding! is it a marvel that some independent schismatics called _raskolniks_, revivalists and followers of ancient rites and truths, should thrive upon the decadence of the official clergy, who are subjected to such insulting servitude and must give to cæsar what belongs to god? in view of these facts it is in vain to boast of spiritual independence and say that the greek church knows no head but christ. the government makes use of the clergy as of one arm more, which, however, is now almost powerless through corruption. the oriental church has no conception of the noble devotion which has honored catholicism in the lives of saint thomas of canterbury and cardinal cisneros. the russian clergy is divided into _black_ and _white_, or regular and secular; the former, powerful and rich, rule in ecclesiastical administration; the latter vegetate in the small villages, ill paid and needy, using their wits to live at the expense of their parishioners, and to wheedle them out of a dozen eggs or a handful of meal. is it strange that the parishioner respects them but little? is it strange that the _pope_ lives in gross pride or scandalous immorality, and that we read of his stealing money from under the pillow of a dying man, of one who baptized a dog, of another who was ducked in a frozen pond by his _barino_, or landlord, for the amusement of his guests? it is true that a few occasional facts prove nothing against a class, and that malice will produce from any source hurtful anecdotes and more or less profane details touching sacred things; but to my mind, that which tells most strongly against the russian clergy is its inanity, its early intellectual death, which shut it out completely from scientific reflection, controversy, and apology, and therefore from all philosophy,--realms in which the catholic clergy has excelled. like a stripped and lifeless trunk the oriental church produces no theologians, thinkers, or _savants_. there are none to elaborate, define, and ramify her dogmas; the human mind in her sounds no depths of mystery. if there are no conflicts between religion and science in russia, it is because the muscovite church weighs not a shadow with the free-thinkers. certainly the adherents and members of the earlier church bear away the palm for culture and spiritual independence. at the close of the seventeenth century, after the struggles with sweden and poland, the schismatic church aroused the national conscience, and satisfied, to a certain extent, the moral needs of a race naturally religious by temperament it began to discuss liturgical minutiæ, and persecuted delinquents so fiercely that it infused all dissenters with a spirit of protest against an authority which was disposed to treat them like bandits or wild beasts. such persecution demonstrates the fact that not only ecclesiastical but secular power is irritated by heterodoxy. in russia, whose slumbering church is unmoved even by a thunder-bolt, an instinct of orderliness led the less devout of the emperors against the schismatics. to-day there are from twelve to fifteen millions of schismatics and sects; and many among them are given to the coarsest superstitions, practise obscene and cruel rites, worship the devil, and mutilate themselves in their insane fervors. probably russia is the only country in the civilized world to-day where superstition, quietism, and mysticism, without law or limit, grow like poisonous trees; and in my work on saint francis of assisi i have remarked how the communist heresies of the middle ages have survived there in the north. some authors affirm that the clergy shut their eyes and open their hands to receive hush-money for their tolerance of heterodoxy. but let us not be too ready always to believe the worst. only lately there fell into my hands an article written by that much respected author, melchior de voguié, who assures us that he has observed signs of regeneration in many russian parishes. from this review of social classes in russia it may be deduced that the peasant masses are the repository of national energies, while the nobility has until now displayed the most apparent activity. the proof of this is to be found in the consideration of a memorable historical event,--the greatest perhaps that the present century has known,--the emancipation of the serfs. [ ] "the term translated 'prince' perhaps needs some explanation. a russian prince may be a bootblack or a ferryman. the word _kniaz_ denotes a descendant of any of the hundreds of petty rulers, who before the time of the unification of russia held the land. they all claim descent from the semi-mythical rurik; and as every son of a _kniaz_ bears the title, it may be easily imagined how numerous they are. the term 'prince,' therefore, is really a too high-sounding title to represent it."--nathan haskell dole. viii. russian serfdom. russia boasts of never having known that black stain upon ancient civilizations, slavery; but the pretension, notwithstanding many allegations thereto in her own chronicles, is refuted by herodotus, who speaks of the inhuman treatment inflicted by the scythians on their slaves, even putting out their eyes that they might better perform certain tasks; and the same historian refers to the treachery of the slaves to their masters in raping the women while they were at war with the medes, and to the insurrection of these slaves which was put down by the scythians by means of the whip alone,--the whip being in truth a characteristic weapon of a country accustomed to servitude. herodotus does say in another place that "among the scythians the king's servants are free youths well-born, for it is not the custom in scythia to buy slaves;" from which it may be inferred that the slaves were prisoners of war. howbeit, russian authors insist that in their country serfs were never slaves, and serfdom was rather an abuse of the power of the nobility and the government than an historic natural result. to my mind this is not so; and i must say that i think servitude had an actual beginning, and that there was a cause for it. the muscovite empire was but sparsely populated, and the population was by temperament adventurous, nomadic, restless, and expansive. we have observed that the limitless plains of russia offer no climatic antagonisms, for the reason that there are no climatic boundaries; but it was not merely the love of native province that was lacking in the russian, but the attachment to the paternal roof and to the home village. it is said that the origin of this sentiment is embedded in rock; where dwellings are built of wood and burn every seven years on an average, there is no such thing as the paternal roof, there is no such thing as home. with his hatchet in his belt the russian peasant will build another house wherever a new horizon allures him. but if the scanty rural population scatters itself over the steppes, it will be lost in it as the sand drinks in the rain, and the earth will remain unploughed and waste; there will be nothing to tax, and nobody to do military service. therefore, about the end of the sixteenth century, when all the rest of europe was beginning to feel the stirrings of political liberty and the breath of the renaissance, the regent, boris godonof, riveted the chains of slavery upon the wrists of many millions of human beings in russia. it is very true that russian servitude does not mean the subjection of man to man, but to the soil; for the decree of godonof converted the peasant into a slave merely by abrogating the traditional right of the "black man" to change his living-place on saint george's day. the peasant perceived no other change in his condition than that of finding himself fastened, chained, bound to the soil. the russian word which we translate "serf" means "consolidated," "adherent." it is easy to see the historical transition from the free state to that of servitude. the military and political organization of the russian state in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries hedged in the peasant's liberty of action, and his situation began to resemble that of the roman _colonus_, or husbandman, who was neither "bond nor free." when the nation was constituted upon firmer bases, it seemed indispensable to fix every man's limitation, to range the population in classes, and to lay upon them obligations consistent with the needs of the empire. these bonds were imposed just as the other peoples of europe were breaking away from theirs. servitude, or serfdom, did not succeed throughout the empire, however. siberia and the independent cossacks of the south rejected it; only passive consent could sanction a condition that was not the fruit of conquest nor had as an excuse the right of the strongest. even in the rest of russia the peasant never was entirely submissive, never willingly bent his neck to the yoke, and the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries witnessed bitter and sanguinary uprisings of the serfs, who were prompt to follow the first impostor who pronounced words of promise; and, strange to say, what was most galling was his entail upon the land rather than the deprivation of his own liberty. he imagined that the lord of the whole earth was the czar, that by his favor it was temporarily in possession of the nobles, but that in truth and justice it belonged to him who tilled it. pugatchef, the pretender to the title of peter iii., in order to rally to his standard an innumerable host of peasants, called himself the rural emperor, and declared that no sooner should he gain the throne of his ancestors than he would shower treasure upon the nobles and restore the land to the tillers of it. those who forged the fetters of serfdom had little faith in the stability of it, however. and although the abuses arising out of it were screened and tacitly consented to,--and never more so than during the reign of the humane philosopher, friend, and correspondent of voltaire, the empress catherine ii.,--yet law and custom forever refused to sanction them. russian serfdom assumed rather a patriarchal character, and this softened its harshness. it was considered iniquitous to alienate the serfs, and it was only lawful in case of parting with the land whereon those serfs labored; in this way was preserved the thin line of demarcation between agrarian servitude and slavery. there were, however, serfs in worse condition, true helots, namely, the domestic servants, who were at the mercy of the master's caprice, like the fowls in his poultry-yard. each proprietor maintained a numerous household below stairs, useless and idle as a rule, whose children he brought up and had instructed in certain ways in order to hire them out or sell them by and by. the players in the theatres were generally recruited from this class, and until alexander i. prohibited such shameless traffic, it was not uncommon to see announced in the papers the sale of a coachman beside that of a holstein cow. but like every other institution which violates and offends human conscience, russian serfdom could not exist forever, in spite of some political and social advantages to the empire. certain russian writers affirm that the assassination of masters and proprietors was of frequent occurrence in the days of serfdom, and that even now the peasant is disposed to quarrels and acts of violence against the nobles. yet, on the whole, i gather from my reading on the subject that the relations in general between the serf and the master were, on the one side, humble, reverent, and filial; on the other, kind, gentle, and protecting. the important question for the peasant is that of the practical ownership of the land. it is not his freedom but his agrarian rights that have been restored to him; and this must be borne in mind in order to understand why the recent emancipation has not succeeded in pacifying the public mind and bringing about a new and happy russia. given the same problem to the peasant and the man of mind, it will be safe to say that they will solve it in very different ways, if not in ways diametrically opposed. the peasant will be guided by the positive and concrete aspect of the matter; the man of mind by the speculative and ideal. the peasant calculates the influence of atmospheric phenomena upon his crops, while the other observes the beauty of the sunset or the tranquillity of the night. in social questions the peasant demands immediate utility, no matter how small it may be, while the other demands the application of principles and the triumph of ideas. under the care of a master the russian serf enjoyed a certain material welfare, and if he fell to the lot of a good master--and russian masters have the reputation of being in general excellent--his situation was not only tolerable but advantageous. on the other hand, the intelligent could not put up with the monstrous and iniquitous fact of human liberty being submitted to the arbitrary rule of a master who could apply the lash at will, sell men like cattle, and dispose as he would of bodies and souls. where this exists, since christ came into the world, either there is no knowledge, or the ignominy must be stamped out. we all know that celebrated story of "uncle tom's cabin," the famous abolitionist novel by mrs. harriet beecher stowe. there were also novelists in russia who set themselves to plead for the emancipation of the serfs. but there is a difference between them and the north american authoress, in that the russians, in order to achieve their object, had no need to exaggerate the reality, to paint sensitive slaves and children that die of pity, but, with an artistic instinct, they appealed to æsthetic truth to obtain human justice. "dead souls," by gogol, or one of the poetical and earnest _brochures_ of turguenief, awakens a more stirring and permanent indignation than the sentimental allegory of mrs. stowe; and neither gogol nor turguenief misrepresented the serf or defamed the master, but rather they present to us both as they were in life, scorning recourse to bad taste for the sake of capturing tender hearts. the noblest sentiments of the soul, divine compassion, equity, righteous vengeance, the generous pity that moves to sacrifice, rise to the inspired voice of great writers; we see the abuse, we feel it, it hurts us, it oppresses us, and by a spontaneous impulse we desire the good and abhor the evil. this enviable privilege has been granted to the russian novelists; had they no greater glory, this would suffice to save them from oblivion. the abolitionist propaganda subtly and surely spread through the intelligent classes, created an opinion, communicated itself naturally to the press in as far as the censor permitted, and little by little the murmur grew in volume, like that raised against the administrative corruption after the crimean war. and it is but just to add that the czars were never behind in this national movement. had it not been for their omnipotent initiative, who knows if even now slavery would not stain the face of europe? there is reason to believe it when one sees the obstacles that hinder other reforms in russia in which the autocrat takes no part. doubtless the mind of the emperor was influenced by the words of alexander ii., in , to the muscovite nobles: "it is better to abolish serfdom by decrees from above than to wait for it to be destroyed by an impulse from below." a purely human motive; yet in every generous act there may be a little egotistical leaven. let us not judge the unfortunate emancipator too severely. the crimean war and its grave internal consequences aided to undermine the infamous institution of serfdom, at the same time that it disclosed the hidden cancer of the administration, the misgovernment and ruin of the nation. with the ill success of the campaign, russia clearly saw the need for self-examination and reorganization. among the many and pressing questions presented to her, the most urgent was that of the serfs, and the impossibility of re-forming a prosperous state, modern and healthy, while this taint existed within her. alexander ii., whose variability and weakness are no bar to his claim of the honored title of the liberator, exhorted the aristocracy to consummate this great work, and (a self-abnegation worthy of all praise, and which only a blind political passion can deny them) the nobles coincided and co-operated with him with perfect good faith, and even with the electrical enthusiasm characteristic of the sclavic race. one cannot cease to extol this noble act, which, taken as a whole, is sublime, although, being the work of large numbers, it may be overloaded with details and incidents in which the interest flags. it may be easy to preach a reform whose aims do not hurt our pride, shatter our fortunes, alter our way of living, or conflict with the ideas inculcated upon us in childhood by our parents; but to do this to one's own detriment deserves especial recognition. the nobility on this occasion only put into practice certain theories which had stirred in their hearts of old. the first great russian poet, prince kantemire, wrote in , in his satires, that adam did not beget nobles, nor did noah save in the ark any but his equals,--humble husbandmen, famous only for their virtues. to my mind the best praise to the russian nobility is for having offered less hindrance to the emancipation of the serfs than the north american democracy to the liberation of the slaves; and i solicit especial applause for this self-sacrificing, redeeming aristocracy. the fruits of the emancipation were not what desire promised. the peasants, from their positivist point of view, set little value on liberty itself, and scarcely understood it. "we are yours," they were accustomed to say to their masters; "but the soil is ours." when it became known that they must go on paying even for the goods of the community, they rebelled; they declared that emancipation was a farce, a lie, and that true emancipation ought to abolish rent and distribute the land in equal parts. did not the proclamation of the czar read that they were free? well, freedom, in their language, meant emancipation from labor, and the possession of the land. one _mir_ even sent a deputation to the governor, announcing that as he had been a good master he would still be allowed the use and profit of his house and farm. the peasant believed himself free from all obligation, and even refused to work until the government forced him to do so; and the result was that the lash and the rod were never so frequently laid across russian shoulders as in the first three years of emancipation and liberty. what cared they--"the little black men"--for the dignity of the freeman or the rights of citizenship? that which laid strongest hold of their primitive imagination was the desire to possess the whole land,--the old dream of what they called the _black partition_, the national utopia. one russian revolutionary journal adopted the name of "land and liberty," a magic motto to a peasant country, giving the former the first place, or at least making the two synonymous. the russian people ask no political rights, but rather the land which is watered by the sweat of their brow; and if some day the anarchists--the agitators who go from village to village propagating their sanguinary doctrines--succeed in awakening and stirring this colossus to action, it will be by touching this tender spot and alluring by the promise of this traditional dream. the old serf lives in hopes of a messiah, be he emperor or conspirator, who shall deliver the earth into his hands; and at times the vehemence of this insatiable desire brings forth popular prophets, who announce that the millennium is at hand, and that by the will of heaven the land is to be divided among the cultivators thereof. from his great love to the autocrat the peasant believes that _he_ also desires this distribution, but being hampered by his counsellors and menaced by his courtiers, he cannot authorize it yet. "for," says the peasant, "the land never belonged to the lords, but first to the sovereign and then to the _mir_." the idea of individual proprietorship is so repugnant to this people that they say that even death is beautiful shared in common. all the schismatic sects in russia preach community of possessions. some among them live better than the orthodox greeks; some are voluntarily consecrated to absolute poverty, such as characterized the early orders of mendicants, and literally give their cloak to him who asks; but both the more temperate and the fanatics agree in the faith of the general and indisputable right of man to possess the land he cultivates. with society as with the individual, after great effort comes prostration, after a sudden change, inevitable uneasiness. so with russian emancipation. although in some localities the condition of the peasants was ameliorated, in others their misery and retrogression seemed only to increase, and led them to pine for the old bonds. the abuse, arbitrariness, and cruelty which are cited, and which shock the nerves of westerners, caused no alarm to the russian peasant, who was well used to baring his back in payment for any delinquency. the worst extent to which the master allowed his anger to spend itself was an unlimited number of stripes; and this very punishment, which to-day no master would inflict, and which the law expressly forbids, is still frequently imposed by the peasant tribunals of the _volost_ or _canton_; their confidence in its efficacy is well grounded, and it is well authorized by custom and experience. what the peasant fears and hates most is not the rod or the whip, but the rent-collector, the tax-gatherer, the burden of the taxes themselves, and hunger. what must be the æsthetic and political determination of this race, which prefers the possession of the soil to the liberty of the individual? in literature, toward a plain and candid realism; in form of government, a communist absolutism. the abstract constitutional idea, which, in spite of its anglo-saxon origin, meets perfectly the ideal entertained by latin minds, has no charm for the sclav. yet at the same time the russian combines, with his practical and concrete notions of life and his preponderating sense of realism, a dreamy and childlike imagination, which acts upon him like a dangerous dose of opium. in the next essay i propose to show how there has grown up within this patient and submissive rural people, and has finally burst forth, that most terrible of revolutionary volcanoes, nihilism. book ii. russian nihilism and its literature. i. the word "nihilism." i have scarcely realized until now the difficulties in the way of the subject i am treating. to talk of nihilism is an audacious undertaking, and in spite of all my endeavors to hold the balance true, and to consider calmly the social phenomena and the literature into which it has infiltrated, i shall perhaps not be able to avoid a note of partiality or emotion. to some i shall seem too indulgent with the russian revolutionaries, and they may say of me, as of m. leroy-beaulieu, that my opinions are imbibed from official sources and my words taken from the mouth of reactionaries. the first stumbling-block is the word "nihilism." in tikomirov's work on russia seven or eight pages are devoted to the severe condemnation of the use of the expressions "nihilism" and "nihilist," nevertheless, at the risk of offending my friend the author, i must make use of them, since, as he himself allows, they are employed universally, and all the world understands what is meant by them in an approximate and relative way. i do not reject the term proposed by tikomirov, who would call nihilism "the militant intelligence;" but this is much too long and obscure, and before accepting it, it behooves one to understand what is meant by _russian intelligence_. the nihilists call themselves by a variety of names,--democrats, socialists, propagandists, _new men_, or sometimes by the title of some organ of their clandestine press. this war of names seems puerile, and i prefer to face the fury of tikomirov against those who not only use the objectionable term but dedicate a chapter to what it represents, and study nihilism as a doctrine or tendency distinct among all that have arisen until now. i cannot agree to the idea that nihilism is merely a russian intellectual movement, nor do i think that all europe is mistaken in judging that the nihilist explosions are characteristic of the great sclav empire. on the contrary, i believe that if russia were to-morrow blotted from the map, and her history and every trace of her national individuality obliterated, only a few pages of her romances and a few fragments of her revolutionary literature being left to us, a philosopher or a critic could reconstruct, without other data, the spirit of the race in all its integrity and completeness. now, to begin, how did this much-discussed word originate? it was a novelist who first baptized the party who called themselves at that time _new men_. it was ivan turguenief, who by the mouth of one of the characters in his celebrated novel, "fathers and sons," gave the young generation the name of nihilists. but it was not of his coinage; royer-collard first stamped it; victor hugo had already said that the negation of the infinite led directly to nihilism, and joseph lemaistre had spoken of the nihilism, more or less sincere, of the contemporary generations; but it was reserved for the author of "virgin soil" to bring to light and make famous this word, which after making a great stir in his own country attracted the attention of the whole world. the reign of nicholas i. was an epoch of hard oppression. when he ascended the throne, the conspiracy of the decembrists broke out, and this sudden revelation of the revolutionary spirit steeled the already inflexible soul of the czar. nicholas, although fond of letters and an assiduous reader of homer, was disposed to throttle his enemies, and would not have hesitated to pluck out the brains of russia; he was very near suppressing all the universities and schools, and inaugurating a voluntary retrocession to asiatic barbarism. he did mutilate and reduce the instruction, he suppressed the chair of european political laws, and after the events of in france he seriously considered the idea of closing his frontiers with a cordon of troops to beat back foreign liberalism like the cholera or the plague. those who have had a near view of this iron czar have described him to me as tall, straight, stiff, always in uniform, a slave to his duties as sovereign, the living personification of the autocrat, and called, not without reason, the quixote of absolutism. at the close of a life devoted to the fanatical inculcation of his convictions, this inflexible emperor, who believed himself to be guided by the divine hand, saw only the dilapidation and ruin of his country, which then started up dismayed and raised a cry of reprobation, a chorus of malediction against the emperor and the order of things established by him. satire cried out in strident and indignant tones, and spit in the face of the czar with terrible anathemas. "oh, emperor," it said to him, "russia confided the supreme power to you; you were as a god upon the earth. what have you done? blinded by ignorance and selfishness, you longed for power and forgot russia; you spent your life in reviewing troops, in changing uniforms, in signing decrees. you created the vile race of press-censors, so that you might sleep in peace, that you might ignore the needs of the people, and turn a deaf ear to their cries; and the truth you buried deep, and rolled a great stone over the door of the sepulchre, and put a guard over it, so that you might think in your proud heart that it would never rise again. but the light of the third day is breaking, and truth will come forth from among the dead." and so the great autocrat heard the crash of the walls that he had built with callous hands and cemented with the blood and tears of two millions of human beings whom he had exiled to siberia. perhaps the inflexible principles, the mainspring of his hard soul, gave way then; but it was indeed too late to give the lie to his whole life, and according to well-authenticated reports he sought a sure and speedy death by wilful exposure to the rigors of the terrible climate. "i cannot go back," were the dying words of this upright and consistent man, who, notwithstanding his hardness, was yet not a tyrant. however, it was under his sceptre, under his systematic suppression, that, by confession of the great revolutionary statesman herzen, russian thought developed as never before; that the emancipation of the intelligence, which this very statesman calls a tragic event, was accomplished, and a national literature was brought to light and began to flourish. when alexander ii. succeeded to the throne, when the bonds of despotism were loosened and the blockade with which nicholas vainly tried to isolate his empire was raised, the field was ready for the intellectual and political strife. russia is prone to violent extremes in everything. no social changes are brought about in her with the slow gradations which make transitions easy and avoid shocks and collisions. in the rest of europe modern scientific progress was due to numerous coincident causes, such as the renaissance, the art of printing, the discovery of america; but in russia the will of the autocrat was the motor, and the country was forced and surprised into it. and when this drowsy land one day shakes off its lethargy and takes note of the latent political effervescence within itself, it will be with the same fiery earnestness, the same exaggeration, the same logical directness, straight to the end, even though that end culminate in absurdity. before explaining how nihilism is the outcome of intelligence, we must understand what is meant by intelligence in russia. it means a class composed of all those, of whatever profession or estate, who have at heart the advancement of intellectual life, and contribute in every way toward it. it may be said, indeed, that such a class is to be found in every country; but there is this difference,--in other countries the class is not a unit; there are factions, or a large number of its members shun political and social discussion in order to enjoy the serene atmosphere of the world of art, while in russia _the intelligence_ means a common cause, a homogeneous spirit, subversive and revolutionary withal. to write a history of modern literature, particularly of the novel, in russia, is equivalent to writing the history of the revolution. the subversive, dissolvent character of this intelligence--working now tacitly, now openly, and with a candor surprising in a country subjected to such suspicious censorship--explains why the czars, once the protectors of the arts, have become since the middle of this century so out of humor with authors, books, and the press. we have heard of one emperor--the cleverest of them all--who in the interest of his reforms had his own son whipped to death. russian art, also son of the czars, figuratively speaking, received scarcely better treatment when it signified a desire to stand on its own feet. long and painful is the list of persecutions directed against the growth of thought, in prose and verse, and above all against illustrious men. but we must make a distinction, so as not to be unjust. herzen, exiled and deprived of all his possessions, and the famous martyr tchernichewsky, confined twenty and odd years in a siberian prison or fortress, do not arouse our astonishment, for they suffered the common fate of the political agitator; but it seems a pity that such artists as dostoiëwsky and turguenief should suffer any such infliction at all. all russian literature is charged with a revolutionary spirit; but there is the same difference between those authors whose aim is political and those who merely speak of russia's wounds when occasion offers, that there is between those who are licentious and those who are simply open and candid. and by this i do not mean to compare the nihilist writers with licentious ones, nor to convey any stigma by my words. i merely say that when literature deliberately attacks established society, the instinct of self-preservation obliges the latter to defend itself even to persecuting its adversary. ii. origin of the intellectual revolution. whence came the revolutionary element in russia? from the occident, from france, from the negative, materialist, sensualist philosophy of the encyclopædia imported into russia by catherine ii. and later from germany, from kantism and hegelianism, imbibed by russian youth at the german universities, and which they diffused throughout their own country with characteristic sclav impetuosity. by "pure reason" and transcendental idealism, herzen and bakunine, the first apostles of nihilism, were inspired. but the ideas brought from europe to russia soon allied themselves with an indigenous or possibly an oriental element; namely, a sort of quietist fatalism, which leads to the darkest and most despairing pessimism. on the whole, nihilism is rather a philosophical conception of the sum of life than a purely democratic and revolutionary movement. since the beginning of this century europe has seen mobs and revolutions, dynasties wrecked and governments overturned; but these were political disturbances, and not the result of mind diseased or anguish of soul. nihilism had no political color about it at the beginning. during the decade between and the youth of russia was seized with a sort of fever for negation, a fierce antipathy toward everything that was,--authorities, institutions, customary ideas, and old-fashioned dogmas. in turguenief's novel, "fathers and sons," we meet with bazarof, a froward, ill-mannered, intolerable fellow, who represents this type. after the echo of the paris commune and emissaries of the internationals crossed the frontier, and the nihilists began to bestir themselves, to meet together clandestinely, and to send out propaganda. seven years later they organized an era of terror, assassination, and explosions. thus three phases have followed upon one another,--thought, word, and deed,--along that road which is never so long as it looks, the road that leads from the word to the act, from utopia to crime. and yet nihilism never became a political party as we understand the term. it has no defined creed or official programme. the fulness of its despair embraces all negatives and all acute revolutionary forms. anarchists, federalists, cantonalists, covenanters, terrorists, all who are unanimous in a desire to sweep away the present order, are grouped under the ensign of _nihil_. the frenzy which thus moves a whole people to tear their hair and rend their garments has at bottom an element of passionate melancholy born of just and noble aspirations crushed by fatal circumstances. we have seen what nature and history have made of russia,--a nation civilized by violence, whose natural and harmonious development was checked, and which was isolated from europe as soon as the ruling powers perceived the dangers likely to ensue from communication therewith. the impulse of youth toward the unknown and the new, toward vague dreams and abstractions, was thus exasperated; and from out the seminaries, universities, and schools, from the ranks of the nobility and from the bosom of the literature, there arose a host composed of women hungering for the ideal, and young students, poor in pocket and position, who gave themselves up to a bohemian sort of life well calculated to set at nought society and the world in general. a russian friend once told me that seeing a _mujik_ looking very dejected and melancholy he asked what was the matter, and received answer, "sir, we are a sick people." his reply defines the whole race; and of all the explanations of nihilism, that which describes it as a pathological condition of the nation is perhaps the most accurate. one must be prudent, however, in calling an intellectual phenomenon based upon historical reasons a sickness or dementia; and above all one must not confound the mental exaltation of the enthusiast with the vagaries of the unsound mind. we do not allow ourselves to call him a fool who does not think as we do, nor even him who leaves the beaten common track for dizzy heights above our ken. no reformer or other great man, however, has escaped the insinuation of foolishness, not even saint francis of assisi, who openly professed idiocy. but we have a kind of sympathy for madness of a speculative character,--the sort of lunacy which makes mankind dream sometimes that material good does not entirely satisfy, that makes it yearn anxiously for something that it may never obtain on this earth. to begin with, is nihilism pure negation? no. pure negation conceives nothing further, and whatever it denies it affirms at the same time. nihilism, or to use their own term, russian _intelligence_, contains the germs of social renovation; and before referring to its political history i will explain some of its strange and curious doctrines. iii. woman and the family. among the most important of the nihilist doctrines is that which refers to the condition of woman and the constitution of the family; and the attempt radically to modify things so guarded and so sacred presupposes an extraordinary power in the moving principle. the state of woman in russia has been far more bitter and humiliating than in the rest of europe; she wore her face covered with the oriental veil until an empress dared to cast it aside,--to the great horror of the court; among the peasants she was a beast of burden; among the nobles an odalisque; in the most enlightened classes of society the whip hung at the head of the bed as a symbol of the husband's authority. the law did not keep her perpetually a minor, as with us, but allowed her to administer her property freely; yet the invisible and unwritten bonds of custom made this freedom illusory. the new ideas have changed all this, however, and to-day the russian woman is more nearly equal to the man in condition, more free, intelligent, and respected than elsewhere in europe. even the peasants, accustomed to bestow a daily allowance of the lash upon their women, are beginning to treat them with more gentleness and regard, for they realize, tardily though certainly, the worth of the ideas of justice deduced from the gospels, which once planted can never be rooted out. their conquests are final. a few years hence the conjugal relation in russia will be based on ideas of equality, fraternity, and mutual respect. i have never gone about preaching emancipation or demanding rights, but i am nevertheless quite capable of appreciating everything that savors of equity. the great russian romantic poet, lermontof, lamented the moral inferiority of the women of his country. "man," said this russian byron, "should not be satisfied with the submission of his slave or the devotion of his dog; he needs the love of a human being who will repay insight for insight, soul for soul." this noble aspiration, derived from the profound platonic allegory of the two soul-halves that seek each other and thereby find completion, the russian intelligence desired to realize, and as a step toward it procured participation for woman in intellectual and political life; she, on her part, proved her worth by bringing to nihilism a passionate devotion, absolute faith, and initiative energy. when the early christians rehabilitated the pagan woman, somewhat the same thing happened, and a tender gratitude toward the gentle nazarene led virgins and matrons to vie with strong men in the heroism displayed in the amphitheatre. but in our times the systematic efforts toward female emancipation have a tendency to stumble into absurdities. to show to what an extent conjugal equality has been carried in certain russian families of humble position, i was told that the wife cooks one day and the husband the next! at the beginning of the reign of alexander ii. the longing for feminine independence was expressed in the wearing of short hair, blue spectacles, and extraordinary dress; in smoking, in scorn of neatness, and the assumption of viragoish and disgusting manners. the serious side of the movement led them on the other hand to study, to throw themselves into every career open to them, to show a brave front in the hospitals of typhus and the plague, to win honors in the clinics, and to practise medicine in the small villages with noble self-abnegation, seriousness, and sagacity. it is worthy of note, in examining russian revolutionary tendencies, that political rights are a secondary consideration, and that they go down to the root of the matter, and seek first to reclaim natural rights. in countries that are under parliamentary regimen, half of the human race is judicially and civilly the servant of the other half; while in the classic land of absolutism all parts are equal before the law, especially among the reformatory class, the nobility. there is one fact in this connection which, though rather dubious on the face of it, is yet so original and typical that it ought not to be omitted. owing to these modifications in the social condition of women, and also to political circumstances, we are told that one frequently hears in russia--among the _intelligent_ class particularly--of a sort of free unions, having no other bond than the mutual willingness of the contracting parties, and marked by singular characteristics. some of these unions may be compared to the espousals of saint cecilia and her husband, saint valerian, or to the nuptials of the legendary hero separated by a naked sword from the bride. the russians call this a fictitious marriage. it sometimes happens that a young girl, bold, determined, and full of a longing for life,--in the social sense of the word,--leaves the paternal roof and takes up her abode under that of another man. having obtained the liberty and individuality enjoyed by the married woman, the protector and the _protégée_ maintain a fraternal friendship mutually and willingly agreed to. in turguenief's novel, "virgin soil," a young lady runs away from her uncle's house with the tutor, a young nihilist poet, with whom she believes herself to be deeply in love; but she finds out that what she really loved and craved was liberty, and the chance to practise her politico-social principles; and as these two runaways live in chastity, the heroine finally, and without any conscientious scruples, marries another poet, also a nihilist, but more practical and intelligent, who has really succeeded in interesting her heart. is such a voluntary restriction the result of a hyperæsthesia of the fancy, natural to an age of persecution, in which those who fight for and defend an idea are ready at any moment to go to the gallows for its sake? is it mere woman's pride demanding for her sex liberty and franchises which she scorns to make use of? is it a manifestation of an idealist sentiment which is always present in revolutionary outbursts? is it a consequence of the theory which schopenhauer preached, but did not practise? is it malthusian pessimism which would refuse to provide any more subjects for despotism? is it a result of the natural coldness of the scythian? there seems to be no doubt, according to the statement of trustworthy authors, that there are nihilist virgins living promiscuously with students, helping them like sisters, united by this strange understanding. solovief, who made a criminal attempt on the life of alexander ii., was thus _married_, as was shown at his trial. among the young generation of nihilists this sort of union was really an affiliation in devotion to their party. the bride's dower went into the party treasury, her body was consecrated to the worship of the unknown god; and being but slightly bound to his or her nominal spouse, each one went his or her way, sometimes to distant provinces, to propagate and disseminate the good news. tikomirov (from whose interesting book i have taken most of my information concerning the constitution of the russian revolutionary family) seems to think that french authors have not done full justice to the austerity and purity of nihilist customs, and he depicts a charming scene in the home of intelligence, whose members are united and affectionate, where moral and intellectual equality produce solid friendship, precluding tyranny on the one hand and treason on the other; adding that in russia everybody is convinced of the superiority of this sort of family, and only foreigners think that nihilism undermines the foundations of conjugal union. is this really true? in any case it seems possible that such a beautiful ideal might be attained to in our latin societies, given the elevated conception of the catholic marriage, which makes it a sacrament, were there only a little more equity, toward which it is evident, however, that laws and customs are ever tending. in speaking of nihilist marriages, it is well to add that in general the russian revolutionary movement has a pronounced flavor of mysticism, although at first sight it seems an explosion of free-thinking and blasphemy. it is true that nihilist youth laughs at the supernatural, and has been steeped in the crudities of german materialism and in the pliant philosophies of the clinic and the laboratory; but at the same time, whether because of the religious character of the race, or because of a certain exaltation which may be the fruit of a period of stress, the nihilist young people are mystics in their own way, and talk about the martyrs to the cause with an inspired voice and with the unction of a devotee invoking the saints. in proof of this i will give here a nihilist madrigal dedicated to the young heroine in a political trial, lydia figuier, who had studied medicine in zurich and paris. "deep is the impression, o maiden, left by thy enchanting beauty; but more powerful than the charm of thy face is the purity of thy soul. full of pity is the image of the saviour, and his divine features are full of compassion; but in the unfathomable depths of thine eyes there is still more love and suffering." the extremes of this rare sort of fanaticism are still better shown in a famous novel of tchernichewsky, the hero of which outdoes the hindu fakirs and christian anchorites in point of macerations, penances, and austerities. he is offered several kinds of fruit, but he will taste only the apple, which is what the people eat; he fasts in grief and anguish, and one day, in order to accustom himself to bear any sort of trial, he lays himself down upon a cloth thickly studded with nails an inch long, points upward, and there he remains until his blood saturates the ground. not content with mortifying the flesh in this way, he disposes of all his worldly goods among the poor, and vows never to touch a drop of wine or the lips of woman. this is only the hero of a story-book; yes, but this story endeavors to present a type, an ideal pattern, to which the _new men_, or nihilists, try to conform themselves. it must be understood that when i say mysticism, i use the word in a generic and not in a theological sense. it seems contradictory to say that an atheist can do and feel like the most fervent believer; but a man may pass a whole lifetime in parrying logic, and yet sometimes what his reason refuses his imagination accepts. there is something in nihilism that recalls the transcendental contradictions of the hindu philosophies and religions, especially buddhism; and in russian brains there is a fermentation of heterodox illumination which is manifested among the common people by sects of tremblers, jumpers, and others, and among the more learned classes by revolutionary mysticism, amorphism, anarchy, and a gloomy and rebellious pessimism. the prophets of the ignorant sects among the people preach many of the revolutionary dogmas, teaching disobedience to all authority, community of goods, social liquidation and free love, yet without political intention; and better educated nihilists, even reactionary minds like dostoiëwsky, feel the pulse of mystic enthusiasm which runs in the blood. the people are so predisposed to color the language of the political devotee that they were quite satisfied with the answer given by the propagandist rogatchef to the peasants who asked what he sought among them. he replied, "the true faith." to the honor of humanity be it said that the most profound emotions it has experienced have been produced by its own thirst for the ideal, and caused by the need of belief, and of feeling in one form or another a religious excitement. it is this element which conquers our sympathy for nihilism; this shows us a young and enthusiastic people given to visions and sublime ardors. to put it more explicitly, i am not passing judgment upon the only revolutionaries just now extant in the world. i have very little liking for political upheavals; but, to the egotistical indifference that afflicts some nations, i believe that i prefer the passionate extremes of nihilism. in politics as in art we want the living. it will be seen therefore that the people were not irrelevant in confounding nihilism with a religions sect. as far as our rationalist age will admit, the nihilist dissenter resembles the great heretics of the middle ages; he has traces of the millenarian, of sakya muni, and of the german pantheists; and he has the blind faith, the hazy transports, the dogmatical and absolute affirmation of the persecuted religious sects, and of esoteric and subterranean beliefs. he adores a divinity without feelings, deaf and primitive, and this adoration is the corner-stone of the nihilist temple. the _mujik_ sublimated by russian literature is the god of nihilism. iv. going to the people. here is a passage from tikomirov's book to illustrate this aspect of russian revolution:-- "where is there any sociological theory that can explain the crusade taken up in by thousands of young men and women determined to _go to the people_? the word crusade is appropriate. our youths left the bosom of their families; our maidens abandoned the worldly pleasures of life. nobody thought of his own welfare; the great cause absorbed all attention, and the nervous tension was such that many were able to endure, without injury to health, unusual and dreadful privations. they gave up their past life and all their property, and if any vacillated in offering his fortune to the cause, he was looked upon with pity and contempt. some renounced official positions and gave all their means, even to thousands of rubles; others, like prince krapotkine, from being _savants_, diplomats and opulent, became humble artisans. the prince took to painting doors and windows. rich heiresses sought occupation as factory operatives, even some who had reigned as belles in aristocratic salons. it was as though, exiled from other classes of society, they found, in turning to the people, their souls' true country." do not these words almost seem to describe the beginnings of christianity in rome? the idol takes no notice of his fanatical adorers, nor perhaps does he understand them any better than the peasant-woman of toboso understood the amorous suit with which don quixote wooed her malformed and dishevelled person. the russian peasant cannot make anything of theories and apotheoses evolved from an intellectual condition amounting to rapturous frenzy. "oh that i might die," exclaims a devout nihilist, "and that my blood like a drop of hot lead could burn and arouse the people!" this thirst for martyrdom is common, but above all is the anxiety to be amalgamated with the people, to know them, and if possible to infuse them with the enthusiasm they feel themselves. it requires more courage to do what russians call _going to the people_, than to bear exile or the gallows. in our society, which boasts of its democracy, the very equalization of classes has strengthened the individual instinct of difference, and especially the aristocrats of mind, the writers and thinkers, have become terribly nervous, finicky, and inimical to the plebeian smell, to the extent that even novels which describe the common people with sincerity and truth displease the public taste. yet the nihilists, a select company from the point of view of intellectual culture, go, like apostles, in search of the poor in spirit, the ignorant and the humble. the sons of families belonging to the highest classes, alumni of universities, leave fine clothes and books, dress like peasants, and mix with factory hands, so as to know them and to teach them; young ladies of fine education return from a foreign tour and accept with the utmost contentment situations as cooks in manufacturers' houses, so as to be able to study the labor question in their workshops. we find very curious instances of this in turguenief's novel "virgin soil." the heroine, mariana, a nihilist, in order to learn how the people live, and to _simplify herself_ (this is a sacramental term), helps a poor peasant-woman in her domestic duties. here we have the way of the world reversed: the educated learns of the ignorant, and in all that the peasant-woman does or says the young lady finds a crumb of grace and wisdom. "we do not wish to teach the people," she explains, "we wish to serve them." "to serve them?" replies the woman, with hard practicality. "well, the best way to serve them is to teach them." equally fruitless are the efforts of mariana's _fictitious husband_, or _husband by free grace_, as the peasant-woman calls him,--the poet and dreamer nedjanof, who thinks himself a nihilist, but in the bottom of his soul has the aristocratic instincts of the artist. here is the passage where he presents himself to mariana dressed in workman's clothes:-- "mariana uttered an exclamation of surprise. at first she did not know him. he wore an old caftan of yellowish drill, short-waisted, and buttoned with small buttons; his hair was combed in the russian style, with the part in the middle; a blue kerchief was tied around his neck; he held in his hand an old cap with a torn visor, and his feet were shod with undressed calfskin." mariana's first act on seeing him in this guise is to tell him that he is indeed ugly, after which disagreeable piece of information, and a shudder of repugnance at the smell of his greasy cap and dirty sleeves, they provide themselves with pamphlets and socialist proclamations and start out on their odyssey among the people, hoping to meet with ineffable sufferings. he would be no less glad than she of a heroic sacrifice, but he is not content with a grotesque farce; and the girl is indignant when solomine, her professor in nihilism, tells her that her duty actually compels her to wash the children of the poor, to teach them the alphabet, and to give medicine to the sick. "that is for sisters of charity," she exclaims, inadvertently recognizing a truth; the catholic faith contains all ways of loving one's neighbor, and none can ever be invented that it has not foreseen. but the human type of the novel is nedjanof, although the nihilists have sought to deny it. there is one very sad and real scene in which he returns drunk from one of his propagandist excursions, because the peasants whom he was haranguing compelled him to drink as much as they. the poor fellow drinks and drinks, but he might as well have thrown himself upon a file of bayonets. he comes home befuddled with _wodka_, or perhaps more so with the disgust and nausea which the brutish and mal-odorous people produced in him. he had never fully believed in the work to which he had consecrated himself: now it is no longer scepticism, it is invincible disgust that takes hold upon his soul, urging him to despair and suicide. the lament of his lost revolutionary faith is contained in the little poem entitled "dreaming," which i give literally, as follows:-- "it was long since i had seen my birthplace, but i found it not at all changed. the deathlike sleep, intellectual inertia, roofless houses, ruined walls, mire and stench, scarcity and misery, the insolent looks of the oppressed peasants,--all the same! only in sleeping, we have outstripped europe, asia, and the whole world. never did my dear compatriots sleep a sleep so terrible! "everything sleeps: wherever i turn, in the fields, in the cities, in carnages, in sleighs, day and night, sitting or walking; the merchant and the functionary, and the watchman in the tower, all sleep in the cold or in the heat! the accused snores and the judge dozes; the peasants sleep the sleep of death; asleep they sow and reap and grind the corn; father, mother, and children sleep! the oppressed and the oppressor sleep equally well! "only the gin-shop is awake, with eyes ever open! and hugging to her breast a jug of fire-water, her face to the pole, her feet to the caucasus, thus sleeps and dreams on forever our mother, holy russia!" to all nihilist intents and purposes, particularly to those of a political character, the masses are apparently asleep. many eloquent anecdotes refer to their indifference. a young lady propagandist, who served as cook on a farm, confesses that the peasants spitefully accused her of taking bread from the poor. in order to get them to take their pamphlets and leaflets, the nihilists present them as religious tracts, adorning the covers with texts of scripture and pious mottoes and signs. only by making good use of the antiquated idea of distribution (of goods) have they any chance of success; it is of no use to talk of autonomous federations, or to attack the emperor, who has the people on his side. the active nihilists are always young people, and this is reason enough why they are not completely discouraged by the sterility of their efforts. old age abhors fruitless endeavors, and better appreciating the value of life, will not waste it in tiresome experiments. and this contrast between the ages, like that between the seasons, is nowhere so sharp as in russia; nowhere else is the difference of opinions and feelings between two generations so marked. some one has called nihilism a disease of childhood, like measles or diphtheria; perhaps this is not altogether erroneous, not only as regards individuals but also as regards society, for vehemence and furious radicalism are the fruit of historical inexperience, of the political youth of a nation. the precursor of nihilism, herzen, said, with his brilliant imagery and vigor of expression, that the russia of the future lay with a few insignificant and obscure young folks who could easily hide between the earth and the soles of the autocrat's boots; and the poet mikailof, who was sentenced to hard labor in , and subsequently died under the lash, exclaimed to the students, "even in the darkness of the dungeon i shall preserve sacredly in my heart of hearts the incomparable faith that i have ingrafted upon the new generation." it is sad to see youth decrepit and weary from birth, without enthusiasm or ambition for anything. it is more natural that the sap should overflow, that a longing for strife and sacrifice, even though foolish and vain, should arise in its heart. this truth cannot be too often repeated: to be enthusiastic, to be full of life, is not ridiculous; but our pusillanimous doctrine of disapproval is ridiculous indeed, especially in life's early years,--as ridiculous as baldness at twenty, or wrinkles and palsy at thirty. besides, we must recognize something more than youthful ardor in nihilism, and that is, sympathetic disinterestedness. the path of nihilism does not lead to brilliant position or destiny: it may lead to siberia or to the gibbet. v. herzen and the nihilist novel. but it is time to mention some of the precursors of nihilism. first of all there is alexander herzen, a brilliant, paradoxical writer, a great visionary, a keen satirist, the poet of denial, a romanticist and idealist to his own sorrow, and, in the bottom of his soul, sceptical and melancholy. herzen was born in moscow in the year of the fire, and his mind began to mature about the time the december conspirators forced nicholas i. into trembling retirement. he was wont to say that he had seen the most imposing personification of imperial power, had grown up under the shadow of the secret police and panted in its clutches. charmed by the philosophical doctrines of hegel and feuerbach, which were then superseding the french, he became a socialist and a revolutionary. just at the time when to have a constitution was the ideal and the dream of the latin peoples, who were willing to tear themselves to pieces to obtain it, this sclav was writing that a constitution was a miserable contract between a master and his slaves! herzen was but a little more than twenty years old when he was sent to siberia. on his return from exile he found at home a mental effervescence, a germanic and idealist current in the wake of the eminent critic bielinsky, sclavophiles singing hymns in praise of national life and repudiating european civilization which was in turn defended by the so-called occidentals; and lastly he found a set of literary, innovators who formed the famous _natural school_, at the head of which was the great gogol. herzen fell into this whirl of ideas, and his æsthetic doctrines and advanced hegelianism had great influence, and after some more serious works he published his celebrated novel, "who is to blame?"--a masterly effort, which gained him immense renown in russia. it was masterly more by reason of the popularity it achieved than by its literary merit, for herzen is, after all, not to be counted among the chief novel-writers of russia. herzen was born to point the way to a social utopia rather than the road to pure beauty. he invented new phases of civilization, societies transformed by the touch of a magic wand. the star of proudhon was at this time in the ascendant, and herzen, attracted by its brilliancy, left his country never to return; but he did not on this account cease to exercise a great influence upon her destinies, so great, indeed, that some profess to think that had herzen never lived, nihilism would have perished in the bud. herzen hailed with delight the french revolution of . he expected to behold a social liquidation, but he saw instead only a conservative republic,--a change of form. then he cried out in savage despair, and his words have become the true nihilist war-cry: "let the old world perish! let chaos and destruction come upon it! hail, death! welcome to the future!" to sweep away the past with one stroke became his perennial aspiration. he drew a vivid picture of a secret tribunal which every _new man_ carries within himself, to judge, condemn, and guillotine the past; he described how a man, fearful of following up his logical conclusions, after citing before this tribunal the church, the state, the family, the good, and the evil, might make an effort to save a rag of the worn-out yesterday, unable to see that the lightest weight would prove a hindrance to his passage from the old world to the new. "there is a remarkable likeness between logic and terror," he said. "it is not for us to pluck the fruits of the past, but to destroy them, to persecute them, to judge them, to unmask them, and to immolate them upon the altars of the future. terror sentenced human beings; it concerns us to judge institutions, demolish creeds, put no faith in old things, unsettle every interest, break every bond, without mercy, without leniency, without pity." this was his programme: not to civilize or to progress, but to obliterate, to demolish; to replace what he called the senile barbarity of the world with a juvenile barbarity; "to go to the very limits of absurdity,"--these are his own words. they contain the sum of nihilism; they include the pessimist despair, and the foolish proscription of art, beauty, and culture, which to an artistic mind is the greatest crime that can be laid at the door of any political or philosophical doctrine. a tendency that aspires to overthrow the altar sacred to the muses and the graces can never prevail. herzen went to london, established a press for the dissemination of political writings in russia, and organized a secret society for russian refugees, among whom he counted bakunine; and having refused to return to his country, he founded a singular paper called "the bell" (_kolokol_), of which thousands of copies, though strictly prohibited by the censor, crossed the frontier. they were distributed and read on every hand, and a copy was regularly placed, by invisible hands, in the chamber of the emperor, who devoured it no less eagerly than his faithful subjects. from the pages of this illegal publication the sovereign learned of secret intrigues in his palace, of plots among his high officials, and scandalous stories reported by the socialist refugee with incredible accuracy. by the side of these evidences of dexterity and cleverness, some of the stratagems recounted of the times of our own carlist war seem mere child's play. as the precursor of nihilism herzen excites great interest, but there is much to be said of tchernichewsky and bakunine. it is said that the latter's influence was more felt abroad than at home, and that he fanned the activity of the internationalist societies, and of the swiss, italian, and spanish laboring classes. be that as it may, bakunine was a classic type of the conspirator by profession,--in love with his dangerous work. he adopted as his motto that to destroy is to create. caussidière saw him and watched him during the insurrections in paris, and exclaimed, "what a man! the first day of the revolution he is a treasure; on the second we must shoot him!" paris was not the only witness of his feats; he fought like a lion at the barricades in dresden, and was elected dictator; he took an active part in the polish insurrection; he quite outshone carl marx in the international, and with him originated the anarchist faction, and that last grade of revolution, amorphism. as for tchernichewsky, he is considered the great master and inspirer of contemporary nihilism, his principal claim to such a place being based on a novel; and at the bottom of the russian revolution we shall always find the epic fictions of our day exerting a powerful influence. with herzen's novel the tendencies of nihilism were first revealed; with tchernichewsky's they became fixed and decisive. novels of gogol and turguenief overthrew serfdom, and novels of turguenief, dostoiëwsky, tolstoï, gontcharof, and tchedrine are the documents which historians will consult hereafter when the great contest between the revolution and the old society shall be written. when tchernichewsky wrote his famous novel, he had already tried his hand at various public questions, had made a compilation from the "political economy" of john stuart mill, and was a prisoner on the charge of organizing the revolutionary propaganda in russia along with herzen, ogaref, and bakunine, who were refugees in london. before setting out to suffer his sentence of fifteen years' imprisonment and perpetual residence in siberia, he was tied to a stake in a public square of st. petersburg, and after the reading of the sentence a sword was broken over his head. what a blow was dealt at absolute power by this man, shut up, annihilated, suppressed, and civilly dead! happy the cause that hath martyrs! his novel produced an indescribable sensation. the nihilists were inclined to resent turguenief's "fathers and sons," whose hero, the materialist bazarof, represented the new generation, or, according to them, caricatured it. tchernichewsky's book was considered to be a faithful picture, and a model besides for the party; it was the nihilists painted by one of themselves, so to speak. although it is tedious and inconsistent in its arguments, the book shows much talent and a fertile imagination; the author declares that it is his purpose to stereotype the personality of the _new man_, who is but an evanescent type, a sign of the times, destined to disappear with the epoch he has initiated. writing about the year , he says, "six years ago there were no such men; three years ago they were little noticed, and now--but what matters what is thought of them now? soon enough they will hear the cry, save us! and whatever they command shall be done." farther on he says that these _new men_ in turn shall disappear to the last man; and after a long time men shall say, "since the days of those men things go on better, although not entirely well yet." then the type shall reappear again in larger numbers and in greater perfection, and this will continue to happen until men say, "now we are doing well!" and when this hour arrives, there will be no special types of humanity, there will be no _new men_, for all shall realize the largest sum of perfection possible. such is the theory of this famous martyr, and it is certainly as original as it is curious. the admirers of tchernichewsky's novel compare it to "the city of the sun," by campanella, "utopia," by sir thomas more, "the journey to icaria," by cabet, and the phalansterian sketches by fourier's disciples. this comparison is alone sufficient to decide the rivalry in favor of turguenief; for the siberian exile wrought only in the interest of socialist propaganda, while the author of "virgin soil," whether accurate or not in detail, was a consummate artist. only political excitement can dictate certain judgments and decisions. if i speak now more at length of the exile's novel, it is for the sake of its representative value, and as a reflection of nihilism in literature. the title is, "what to do?" the author wishes to solve the problem put by herzen in the title to his novel, "who is to blame?" and under the guise of a love-quarrel he delineates the ideal of the contemporary generation represented by two favorite characters, the two classic types of the nihilist novel,--the student of medicine, a _new man_, saturated with science and german metaphysics, and a brave girl longing to be _initiated_ and thirsting to consecrate herself to some lofty cause. among other curiosities there is a nihilist husband, who, on discovering that his wife is enamoured of somebody else, calculates his moral sufferings as equivalent to the excitement produced by four cupfuls of strong coffee, and he therefore takes two morphine pills and declares that he feels better! in spite of being prohibited by the censor, this novel, as might be expected, had a great success; the editions multiplied clandestinely; the heroine's type became immensely popular; the young girls took to the study of medicine with an enthusiasm and a will to which i can personally testify; and if report be true, a part of the new ideas concerning conjugal equality and the constitution of the family proceeded from this novel. the popularity of the author, glorified by the halo of his sufferings and imprisonment, far superseded that of herzen. materialism and positivism soon came also to replace the visions of herzen; for when alexander ii. opened the frontiers which the inflexible nicholas had closed, the students brought home new idols from the german universities. schopenhauer and buchner superseded hegel and feuerbach. schopenhauer, with his pessimism, his theory of nirvana and universal annihilation, arrived just in time to foster the germs of fatalism dormant within the russian soul; and buchner, by means of his very superficial but eloquent book, was also in season to offer an accessible, clear, and popular formula to unthinking minds and negative or indolent temperaments; "force and matter" was for a time the bible of russian students. it will be readily seen that the revolutionary formula and methods in russia always came from abroad; but they met with tendencies which were unexpected, even though they proved favorable to development. the philosophy of nihilism was drawn from western sources, no doubt; yet this phenomenon made its appearance only in russia, a land predisposed to realism and mysticism, to brutality and languor, and above all to melancholy limitless as its plains. we are told of the now famous saying of a nihilist, who, being asked his doctrines, replied, "to see earth and heaven, church and state, god and king, and to spit upon them all!" although the verb to _spit_ is not so offensive in russia as here, and is rather a sign of repugnance than of insult, such a reply contains the sum of negative nihilism; and negation, the critical period, cannot last longer than the despairing sigh of the dying. the active phase of nihilism, the reign of terror, passed by quickly, and now the party is beginning to lay aside its ferocious radicalism and deal with realities. vi. the reign of terror. the reign of terror was short but tragic. we have seen that the active nihilists were a few hundred inexperienced youths without position or social influence, armed only with leaflets and tracts. this handful of boys furiously threw down the gauntlet of defiance at the government when they saw themselves pursued. resolved to risk their heads (and with such sincerity that almost all the associates who bound themselves to execute what they called _the people's will_ have died in prison or on the scaffold), they adopted as their watchword _man for man_. when the sanguinary reprisals fell upon russia from one end to the other, the frightened people imagined an immense army of terrorists, rich, strong, and in command of untold resources, covering the empire. in reality, the twenty offences committed from to , the mines discovered under the two capitals, the explosions in the station at moscow and in the palace at st. petersburg, the many assassinations, and the marvellous organization which could get them performed with circumstances so dramatic and create a mysterious terror against which the power of the government was broken in pieces,--all this was the work of a few dozens of men and women seemingly endowed with ubiquitousness, so rapid and unceasing their journeys, and so varied the disguises, names, and stratagems they made use of to bewilder and confound the police. it was whispered that millions of money were sent in from abroad, that there were members of the czar's family implicated in the conspiracy, that there was an unknown chief, living in a distant country, who managed the threads of a terrible executive committee which passed judgment in the dark, and whose decrees were carried out instantly. yet there were only a few enthusiastic students, a few young girls ready to perform any service, like the heroine of turguenief's "shadows;" a few thousand rubles, each contributing his share; and, after all, a handful of determined people, who, to use the words of leroy-beaulieu, had made a covenant with death. for a strong will, like intelligence or inspiration, is the patrimony of the few; and so, just as ten or twelve artist heads can modify the æsthetic tendency of an age, six or eight intrepid conspirators are enough to stir up an immense empire. after karakozof's attempt upon the life of the czar (the first spark of discontent), the government augmented the police and endowed muravief, who was nicknamed _the hangman_, with dictatorial powers. in the first notable political trial was held upon persons affiliated with a secret society. persecutions for political offences are a great mistake. maltreatment only inspires sympathy. after a few such trials the doors had to be closed; the public had become deeply interested in the accused, who declared their doctrines in a style only comparable to the acts of the early christian martyrs. who could fail to be moved at the sight of a young woman like sophia bardina, rising modestly and explaining before an audience tremulous with compassion her revolutionary ideas concerning society, the family, anarchy, property, and law? power is almost always blind and stupid in the first moments of revolutionary disturbances. in russia men risked life and security as often by acts of charity toward conspirators as by conspiracy itself. in odessa, which was commanded by general totleben, the little blond heads of two children appeared between the prison bars; they were the children of a poor wretch who had dropped five rubles into a collection for political exiles, and these two little ones were sentenced to the deserts of siberia with their father. and the poet mikailof chides the revolutionaries with the words: "why not let your indignation speak, my brothers? why is love silent? is our horrible misfortune worthy of nothing more than a vain tribute of tears? has your hatred no power to threaten and to wound?" the party then armed itself, ready to vindicate its political rights by means of terror. the executive committee of the revolutionary socialists--if in truth such a committee existed or was anything more than a triumvirate--favored this idea. spies and fugitives were quickly executed. the era of sanguinary nihilism was opened by a woman, the charlotte corday of nihilism,--vera zasulitch. she read in a newspaper that a political prisoner had been whipped, contrary to law,--for corporal punishment had been already abolished,--and for no worse cause than a refusal to salute general trepof; she immediately went and fired a revolver at his accuser. the jury acquitted her, and her friends seized her as she was coming out of court, and spirited her away lest she should fall into the hands of the police; the emperor thereupon decreed that henceforth political prisoners should not be tried by jury. shortly after this the substitute of the imperial deputy at kief was fired upon in the street; suspicion fell upon a student; all the others mutinied; sixteen of them were sent into exile. as they were passing through moscow their fellow-students there broke from the lecture-halls and came to blows with the police. some days later the rector of the university of kief, who had endeavored to keep clear of the affair, was found dead upon the stairs; and again later, heyking, an officer of the _gendarmerie_, was mortally stabbed in a crowded street. the clandestine press declared this to have been done by order of the executive committee; and it was not long before the chief of secret police of st. petersburg received a very polite notice of his death-sentence, which was accomplished by another dagger, and the clandestine paper, "land and liberty," said by way of comment, "the measure is filled, and we gave warning of it." months passed without any new assassinations; but in february, , prince krapotkine, governor of karkof, fell by the hand of a masked man, who fired two shots and fled, and no trace of him was to be found, though sentence of death against him was announced upon the walls of all the large towns of russia. the brother of prince krapotkine was a furious revolutionary, and conducted a socialist paper in geneva at that time. in march it fell to the turn of colonel knoup of the _gendarmerie_, who was assassinated in his own house, and beside him was found a paper with these words: "by order of the executive committee. so will we do to all tyrants and their accomplices." a pretty nihilist girl killed a man at a ball; it was at first thought to be a love-affair, but it was afterward found out that the murderess did the deed by order of the executive committee, or whatever the hidden power was which inspired such acts. on the th of this same march a plot against the life of the new chief of police, general drenteln, was frustrated, and the walls of the town then flamed with a notice that revolutionary justice was about to fall upon one hundred and eighty persons. it rained crimes,--against the governor of kief, against captain hubbenet, against pietrowsky, chief of police, who was riddled with wounds in his own room; and lastly on the th of april solovief attempted the life of the czar, firing five shots, none of which took effect. on being caught, the would-be assassin swallowed a dose of poison, but his suicide was also unsuccessful. solovief, however, had reached the heights of nihilism; he had dared to touch the sacred person of the czar. he was the ideal nihilist: he had renounced his profession, determined to _go with the people_, and became a locksmith, wearing the artisan's dress; he was married _mystically_, and by _free grace_ or _free will_, and it was said that he was a member of the terrible executive committee. he suffered death on the gallows with serenity and composure, and without naming his accomplices. "land and liberty" approved his acts by saying, "we should be as ready to kill as to die; the day has come when assassination must be counted as a political motor." from that day alexander ii. was a doomed man, and his fatal moment was not far off. the revolutionaries were determined to strike the government with terror, and to prove to the people that the sacred emperor was a man like any other, and that no supernatural charm shielded his life. at the end of and the beginning of two lugubrious warnings were forced upon the emperor: first, the mine which wrecked the imperial train, and then the explosion which threw the dining-room of the palace in ruins, which catastrophe he saw with his own eyes. about this time the office of a surreptitious paper was attacked, the editors and printers of which defended themselves desperately; alarmed by this significant event, the emperor intrusted to loris melikof, who was a liberal, an almost omnipotent dictatorship. the conciliatory measures of melikof somewhat calmed the public mind; but just as the czar had convened a meeting for the consideration of reforms solicited by the general opinion, his own sentence was carried out by bombs. it is worthy of note that both parties (the conservative and the revolutionary) cast in each other's face the accusation of having been the first to inflict the death-penalty, which was contrary to russian custom and law. if russia does not deserve quite so appropriately as spain to be called the country of _vice versas_, it is nevertheless worth while to note how she long ago solved the great juridical problem upon which we are still employing tongue and pen so busily. not only is capital punishment unknown to the russian penal code, but since even perpetual confinement has been abolished, twenty years being the maximum of imprisonment; and this even to-day is only inflicted upon political criminals, who are always treated there with greater severity than other delinquents. before the celebrated italian criminalist lawyer, beccaria, ever wrote on the subject, the czarina elisabeth petrowna had issued an edict suppressing capital punishment. the terrible muscovite whip probably equalled the gibbet, but aside from the fact that it had been seldom used, it was abolished by nicholas i. if we judge of a country by its penal laws, russia stands at the head of european civilization. the russians were so unaccustomed to the sight of the scaffold, that when the first one for the conspirators was to be built, there were no workmen to be found who knew how to construct it. vii. the police and the censor. it is not easy to say whether the government was ill-advised in confronting the terrors of nihilism with the terrors of authority. public executions are contageous in their effect, and blood intoxicates. the nihilists, even in the hour of death, did not neglect their propaganda, and held up to the people their dislocated wrists as evidences of their tortures. one must put one's self in the place of a government menaced and attacked in so unusual a manner. certain extreme measures which are the fruit of the stress of the moment are more excusable than the vacillating system commonly practised from time immemorial; and which is foster-mother to professional demagogues, and dynamiters by vocation and preference. the police as organized in russia seem to inspire greater horror even than the nihilist atrocities. in the face of judicial reforms there exists an irresponsible tribunal, called the third section of the imperial chancellorship. the worst of this kind of arbitrary and antipathetic institutions is that imagination attributes many more iniquities to them than they in reality commit. russian written law declares that no subject of the czar can be condemned without a public trial; but the special police has the right to arrest, imprison, and make way with, rendering no account to any one. thus absolute power leaps the barriers of justice. it must be acknowledged that the dark ways of the special police only reflected those of their nihilist adversary. nowhere in the world, however, is the police so hated; nowhere do they perform their work in so irritating a manner as in russia; and the public, far from assisting them, as in england and france, fights and circumvents them. the proneness to secret societies in russia is the result of the perpetual and odious tyranny of the police. the russian lives in clandestine association like a fish in water; so much so that after the fall of loris melikof the reactionaries were no less eager for it than the nihilists, and bound themselves together under the name of the holy league, taking as a model the revolutionary executive committee, and even including the death-sentence in their rules. war without quarter was declared, and the police organized a counter-terror characterized by impeachment, suspicion, espionage, and inquisition. there were domiciliary visitations; every one was obliged to take notice whether any illegal meetings were held in his neighborhood, or any proscribed books or explosive materials were to be seen; no posters were allowed to be put on the walls, and every one was expected to aid the arrest of any suspicious person; a vigilant watch was kept upon russian refugees; the rigors of confinement were enforced; and all this made the police utterly abhorred, even in a country accustomed to endure them as a traditional institution since the last of the ruriks and the first of the romanoffs. the chief of the third section became a power in the land. the section worked secretly and actively. the chief and the emperor maintained incessant communication, and the former was made a member of the cabinet, and could arrest, imprison, exile, and put out of the way, whomever he pleased. during the reign of the kind-hearted alexander ii. his power declined for a while, until nihilist plots and manoeuvres caused it to be redoubled. there was a struggle unto death between two powers of darkness, from which the police came out beaten, having been unable to save the lives of their chief and the sovereign. while the third section attacked personal security and liberty, the censorship, more intolerable still, hemmed in the spirit and condemned to a death by inanition a young people hungry for literature and science, for plays, periodicals, and books. mutilated as it is, the newspaper is bread to the soul of the russian. the russian press, like all the obstacles that absolute power finds in its way, was founded by one of their imperial civilizers, peter the great, and it maintained a purely literary character until the reign of alexander ii., when it took a political form. under the iron hand of the censor, the russian press has learned the manner and artifices of the slave; in allusions, insinuations, retentions, and half-meanings it is an adept, for only so can it convey all that it is forbidden to speak. it must emigrate and recross the frontier as contraband in order to speak freely. the censor lies ever in ambush like a mastiff ready to bite; and sometimes its teeth clinch the most inoffensive words on the page, the most innocent page in the book, the librettos of operas, as for example "the huguenots" and "william tell." in certain literary works were exempted from the previous censure, but this beneficence was not extended to the periodical press. the newspapers of st. petersburg and moscow were open to a choice between the new and old systems, between submitting to the rule of the censor and a deluge of denunciations, seizures, suspensions, and suppressions; and they willingly chose the former. so the russian press exists under an entirely arbitrary sufferance, and according as the political scales rise and fall they are allowed to-day what was prohibited yesterday, and sometimes their very means of sustenance are cut off by an embargo on certain numbers or the proscription of advertisements. if a liberal minister is to the fore, times are prosperous; if there is a reaction, they are crushed to death. this accounts for the popularity of the secret press, which is at work even in buildings belonging to the crown, in seminaries and convents, and in the very laboratory of dynamite bombs. books are as much harassed as periodicals. the russians, being very fond of everything foreign, sigh for books from abroad, especially those that deal with political and social questions; but the censor has custom-houses at the frontier, and the officials, with the usual perspicacity of literary monitors, finally let slip that which may prove most dangerous and subversive, and exercise their zeal upon the most ingenuous. they have even cut off the _feuilletines_ of thousands of french papers,--what patience it must have required to do it!--while madame gagneur's novel, "the russian virgins," passed unmutilated. i wonder what would be the fate of my peaceful essays should they receive the unmerited honor of translation and reach the frontiers of muscovy! as to the foreign reviews, they are submitted to a somewhat amusing process, called the _caviar_. suspicious passages, if they escape the scissors, get an extra dash of printing-ink. thus the russian is not even free to read till he goes from home, and by force of dieting he suffers from frequent mental indigestion, and the weakest sort of _spirits_ goes to his head! all this goes to prove that if speculative nihilism is a moral infirmity congenital to the soul of the russian, active and political nihilism is the fruit of the peculiar situation of the empire. the phrase is stale, but in the present case accurate. russia is passing through a period of transition. she goes forward to an uncertain future, stumbles and falls; her feet bleed, her senses swim; she has fits of dementia and even of epilepsy. good intention goes for nought, whether the latent generosity of revolutionaries, or of government and czar. where is there a person of nobler desires and projects than alexander ii.? but his great reforms seemed rather to accelerate than to calm the revolutionary fever. as long as the revolution does not descend from the cultivated classes upon the masses of the people, it must be content with occasional spurts, chimerical attempts, and a few homicides; but if some day the socialist propaganda, which now begins to take effect in the workshops, shall make itself heard in the country villages, and the peasant lend an ear to those who say to him, "rise, make the sign of the cross and take thy hatchet with thee," then russia will show us a most formidable insurrection, and that world of country-folk, patient as cattle, but fanatical and overwhelming in their fury, once let loose, will sweep everything before it. nothing will appease or satisfy it. the constitutions of western lands they have already torn in pieces without perusal. even the revolutionaries would prefer to those illusory statutes a czar standing at the head of the peasants, and institutions born within their own land. it is said that now, just as the nihilist frenzy is beginning to subside, one can perceive a smouldering agitation among the people manifesting itself occasionally in conflagrations, anti-semitic outbreaks, and frequent agrarian crimes. what a clouded horizon! what volcanic quakings beneath all that snow! on the one hand the autocratic power, the secular arm, consecrated by time, tradition, and national life; on the other the far-reaching revolution, fanatical and impossible to appease with what has satisfied other nations; and at bottom the cry of the peasants, like the sullen roar of the ocean, for--it is a little thing--the land! book iii. rise of the russian novel. i. the beginnings of russian literature. from this state of anguish, of unrest, of uncertainty, has been brought forth, like amber from the salt sea, a most interesting literature. into this relatively peaceful domain we are about to penetrate. but before speaking of the novel itself i must mention as briefly as possible the sources and vicissitudes of russian letters up to the time when they assumed a national and at the same time a social and political character. i will avoid tiresome details, and the repetition of russian names which are formidable and harsh to our senses, besides being confusing and at first sight all very much alike, and much given to terminating in _of_,--a syllable which on russian lips is nevertheless very euphonious and sweet. i will also avoid the mention of books of secondary importance; for as this is not a course of russian literature, it would be pedantry to refer to more than those i have read from cover to cover. i will mention in passing only a few authors of lesser genius than the four whom melchior de voguié very correctly estimates as the perfect national types; namely, gogol, turguenief, dostoiëwsky, and tolstoï, and i will give only a succinct review of the primitive period, the classicism and romanticism, the satire and comedy antecedent to gogol, this much being necessary in order to bring out the transformation due to the prodigious genius of this founder of realism, and consummated in the contemporary novel. literature, considered not as rhetorical feats or as the art of speaking and writing well, but as a manifestation of national life or of the peculiar inclinations of a people, exists from the time when the spirit of the people is spontaneously revealed in legends, traditions, proverbs, and songs. the fertility of russian popular literature is well known to students of folk-lore. critics have demonstrated to us that between the primitive oral, mythical, and poetical literature of russia and the present novel (which is profoundly philosophical in character, and inspired by that austere muse, the real) there is as close a relationship as between the gray-haired grandfather who has all his life followed the plough, and his offspring who holds a chair in a university. russian literature was born beside the danube, in the fatherland of the sclavonic people. the various tribes dispersed themselves over the black sea, and the russian sclavs, following the course of the dnieper, began to elaborate their heroic mythology with feats of gods and demi-gods against the forces of nature, and monsters and other fantastic beings. a warlike mode of life and a semi-savage imagination are reflected in their legends and songs. all this period is covered by the _bilinas_, a word which is explained by russian etymology to mean _songs of the past_. these epics tell of the exploits of ancient warriors who personify the blind and chaotic forces of nature and the elements. _esviatogor_, for example, represents a mountain; _volk_ may mean a wolf, a bull, or an ant; there is a godlike tiller of the soil who stands for russian agriculture, and who is the popular and indigenous hero, in opposition to the fighting and adventurous hero _volga_, who stands for the ruling classes. perhaps these _bilinas_ and the finnish kalevala are the only primitive epics in which the laborer plays a first part and puts the fighting hero into the shade. in these national poems of a people descended from the scythians, who in the days of herodotus were proud of calling themselves _farmers_ or _laborers_, the two most attractive figures are the heroes of the plough, mikula and ilia; it is as though the singers of long ago started the worship of the peasant, which is the dogma of the present novel, or as though the apotheosis of agriculture were an idea rooted in the deepest soil of the national thought of russia. next after this primitive cycle comes the age of chivalry, known under the name of kief cycle, which has its focus in the prince vladimir called the red sun; but even in this round table epic we find the heroic _mujik_, the giant cossack, ilias de moron. the splendor of the hero-mythical epoch faded after the advent of christianity, and the heroes of kief and novgorod fell into oblivion; one _bilina_ tells now "the paladins of holy russia disappeared; a great new force that was not of this world came upon them," and the paladins, unable to conquer it, and seeing that it multiplied and became only more powerful with every stroke, were afraid, and ran and hid themselves in the caverns, which closed upon them forever. since that day there are no more paladins in holy russia. in every _bilina_, and also in songs which celebrate the seed-time, the pagan feast of the summer solstice, and the spring-time, we notice the two characteristics of russian thought,--a lively imagination and a dreamy sadness, which is most evident in the love-songs. on coming in contact with christianity the pagan tale became a legend, and the clergy, brought from byzantium by valdimir the baptizer, gave the people the gospel in the sclavonic tongue, translated by two greek brothers, cyril and methodius, and the day of liturgical and sacred literature was at hand. the apostles of christianity arranged the alphabet of thirty-eight letters, which represent all the sounds in the sclav language, and founded also the grammar and rhetoric. as in every other part of christendom, these early preachers were the first to enlighten the people, bringing ideas of culture entirely new to the barbarous sclavonic tribes; and the poor monk, bent over his parchment, writing with a sharp-pointed reed, was the first educator of the nation. in the eleventh century the first russian literary efforts began to take shape, being, like all early-written literature, of essentially clerical origin and character,--such as epistles, sermons, and moral exhortations. the chief writers of that time were the monk nestor, the metropolitan nicephorous, and cyril the golden-mouthed, who imitated the florid byzantine eloquence. at the side of ecclesiastical literature history was born; the lives of the saints prepared the ground for the chroniclers, and nestor's chronicle, the first book on russian history, was written. the early essays in profane history, which took the form of fables and trenchant sayings disclosing a vein of satire, still smack of the ecclesiastical flavor, although they contain the instincts of a laic and civil literature. the people had their epic, the clergy accumulated their treasures, but the warriors and knights, who with the sovereign formed a separate society, must have their heroic cycle also; and bards and singers were found to give it to them in fragmentary pieces, among which the most celebrated is the "song of the host of igor," which relates the victories of a prince over the savage tribes of the steppes. the poem is a mixture of pagan and christian wonders, which is only natural, since in the twelfth century (the era of its composition) christianity, while triumphant in fact, had not yet succeeded in driving out the old sclavonic deities. in the eighth century the tartar invasion interrupted the course of civil literature. russia then had no time for the remembrance of anything but her disasters, and the church became again the only depository of the civilization brought from byzantium, and of the intellectual riches of the nation; for the khans, who destroyed everything else, regarded the churches and images with superstitious respect. the little then written expresses the grief of russia over her catastrophe, but in sermon form, presenting it as a punishment from heaven, and a portent of the end of the world; it was the universal panic of the middle ages arrived in russia three centuries late. until the fourteenth century there was no revival of historical narrations in sufficient numbers to show the preponderance of the epic spirit in the russian people. in the fifteenth century, for the first time, oral literature really penetrated into the domain of the written; but the inevitable and tiresome mediæval stories of alexander the great and the siege of troy, the thousand and one nights, and others, entering by way of servia and bulgaria, appear among the literature of the southern sclavs; and tales of chivalry from byzantium are also rearranged and copied,--an element of imitation and artificiality which never took deep root in russia, however. aside from some few tales, the only germs of vitality are to be found in the apocryphal religious narratives, which were an early expression of the spirit of mysticism and exegesis, natural to muscovite thought; and in the songs, also religious, chanted by pilgrims on their way to visit the shrines, and by the people also, but probably the work of the monks. these are still sung by beggars on the streets, and the people listen with delight. in the sixteenth century there were maximus the greek (the savonarola of russia), the priest silvester, author of "domostrof," a book which was held to contain the model of ancient russian society, and lastly the czar, ivan the terrible himself, who wrote many notable epistles, models of irony. the songs of the people still flourished, and they were provided with subject-matter by the awful figure and actions of the emperor, who was beloved by the people, because, like pedro the cruel of castile, he dared to bridle the nobles. the popular poet describes him as giving to a potter the insignia and dignity of a boyar. this tyrant, the most ferocious that humanity ever endured, busied himself with establishing the art of printing in russia, with the help of maximus the greek, who was a great friend of aldus the venetian, the famous printer. according to the metropolitan macarius, god himself from his high throne put this thought into the heart of the czar. on the st of may, , the first book printed in russia, "the acts of the apostles," made its appearance. the russian theatre grew out of the symbolic ceremonies of the church and the representations given by the polish jesuits in the colleges; and through poland, in the seventeenth century, by means of translations or imitations, came also that kind of literary recreations known in france and italy during the fourteenth century under the name of novels and facetias. but these did not intercept the natural course of the national spirit, nor drown the popular voice,--the _duma_, or meditation, the religious canticle, the satire, and especially the incessant reiteration of the _bilinas_, which were now devoted to relating the heroic conquests of the cossacks. the impulse communicated to russian thought by peter the great at last obliterated the chasm between popular and written literature. peter established in russia a school of translators; whatever he thought useful and beneficial he had correctly translated, and then he established the academy. he set up the first regular press and founded the first periodical paper. not having much confidence in ecclesiastical literature, he commanded that the monks should be deprived of pen, ink, and paper; and on the other hand he revived the theatre, which was apparently dead, and under the influence of his reforms there arose the first russian writer who can properly be called such,--lomonosof, the personification of academical classicism, who wrote because he thought it his business, in a well-ordered state, to write incessantly, to polish and perfect the taste, the speech, and even the characters of his fellow-countrymen; he was always a rhetorician, a censor, a corrector, and we seem to see him always armed with scissors and rule, pruning and shaping the myrtles in the garden of literature. the czar pensioned this ornamental poet, after the fashion of french monarchs, and he in turn bequeathed to his country, of course, a heroic poem entitled "petriada." his best service to the national literature was in the line of philology; he found a language unrefined and hampered by old sclavonic forms, and he refined it, softened it, made it more flexible, and ready to yield sweeter melody to those who played upon it thereafter. semiramis, in her turn, was not less eager to forward the cause of letters; she had also her palace poet, derjavine, the pindar of her court; and not being satisfied with this, her imperial hands grasped the foils and fought out long arguments in the periodicals, to which she contributed for a long time. woman, just at that time emerging from oriental seclusion, as during the renaissance in europe, manifested an extraordinary desire to learn and to exercise her mind. catherine became a journalist, a satirist, and a dramatic author; and a lady of her court, the princess daschkof, directed the academy of sciences, and presided over the russian academy founded by catherine for the improvement and purification of the language, while three letters in the new dictionary are the exclusive work of this learned princess. catherine effectively protected her literary men, being convinced that letters are a means of helping the advancement of a barbarous people, in fact the highways of communication; and under her influence a literary pleiad appeared, among whom were von-vizine, the first original russian dramatist; derjavine, the official bard and oracle; and kerakof, the pseudo-classic author of the "rusiada." court taste prevailed, and montesquieu, voltaire, rousseau, and diderot ruled as intellectual masters of a people totally opposed to the french in their inmost thoughts. the thing most grateful to the russian poet in catherine's time was to be called the horace or the pindar of his country; the nobles hid their muscovite ruggedness under a coat of voltairian varnish, and even the seminaries resounded with denunciations of _fanaticism_ and _horrid superstition_. other nations have been known to go thus masked unawares. but new currents were undermining the possessions of the encyclopedists. during the last years of catherine's reign the theosophical doctrines from sweden and germany infiltrated russia; mysticism brought free-masonry, which finally mounted the throne with alexander i., the tender friend of the sentimental valeria; and even had madame krudener never appeared to shape in her visions the protest of the russian soul against the dryness and frivolity of the french philosophers, the fresh lyric quality of rousseau, florian, and bernardin saint-pierre would still have flowed in upon the people of the north by means of that eminent man and historian, karamzine. before achieving the title of the titus livius of russia, karamzine, being a keen intellectual observer of what was going on abroad, founded, by means of a novel, the _emotional school_, declaring that the aim of art is "to pour out floods of grateful impressions upon the realms of the sentimental." this sounds like mere jargon, but such was their mode of speech at the time; and that their spirits demanded just such food is proved by the general use of it, and by the tears that rained upon the said novel, in which the russian _mujik_ appears in the disguise of a shepherd of arcadia. these innocent absurdities, which were the delight of our own grandmothers, prepared the way for romanticism, and the appearance of lermontof and puchkine. ii. russian romanticism.--the lyric poets. the period of lyric poetry represented by these two excellent poets, lermontof and puchkine, was considered the most glorious in russian literature, and there are yet many who esteem it as such in spite of the contemporary novel. undoubtedly rhyme can do wonders with this rich tongue in which words are full of color, melody, and shape, as well as ideas. a fine critic has said that russian poetry is untranslatable, and that one must feel the beauty of certain stanzas of lermontof and puchkine sensually, to realize why they are beyond even the most celebrated verses in the world. at the beginning of the century classicism was in its decline; russia was leaving her youth behind her, and after she became totally changed. the napoleonic wars caused the alliance with germany, and secret societies of german origin flourished under the favor of the versatile alexander i. weary of the artificial literature imposed by the iron will of peter the great, and stirred by a great desire for independence, like all the other nations awakened by napoleon, russia held her breath and listened to the birdlike song of the harbingers of a new era, to the great romantic poets who, almost simultaneously and with marvellous accord, burst forth in england, italy, france, spain, and russia. the air was full of melody like the sudden twang of harp-strings in the darkness of the night; and perhaps the autocratic severity of nicholas i. by forcing attention from public affairs and concentrating it upon literature, was a help rather than a hindrance to this revelation and development. alexander puchkine, the demi-god of russian verse, carried african as well as sclavonic blood in his veins, being the grandson of an abyssinian named abraham hannibal, a sort of othello upon whom peter the great bestowed the rank of general and married him to a lady of the court. during the poet's childhood an old servant beguiled him with legends, fables, and popular tales, and the seed fell upon good ground. he left home at the age of fourteen, having quarrelled with all his family and become an out-and-out voltairian; his professor at the lyceum--of whom no more needs be said than that he was a brother of marat--had instilled into his youthful mind the superficial atheism then the fashion; his other tutors declared that this impetuous and fanciful child was throwing away body and soul; yet, when the occasion came, puchkine remembered all that his old nurse had told him, and found himself with an exquisite æsthetic instinct, in touch with the popular feeling. when nicholas i., in december, , mounted the throne vacated by the death of alexander i. and the renunciation of the grand-duke constantine, puchkine, then scarcely more than twenty-six years of age, found himself in exile for the second time. his first appearance in public life coincided with the reactionary mood of alexander i. and the favoritism of the retrogressive minister, count arakschef; and the young men from the lyceum, who had been steeping their souls in liberalism, found themselves defrauded of their expectations of active life, discussions closed, meetings prohibited, and russia again in a trance of asiatic immobility. the young nobility began to entertain themselves with conspiracy; and those who had no talent for that, spent their time in drinking and dissipation. puchkine was as much inclined toward the one as the other. his passionate temperament led him into all sorts of adventures; his eager imagination and his literary tastes incited him to political essays, though under pain of censure. living amid a whirl of amusement, and coveting an introduction to aristocratic circles, he launched his celebrated poem of "russia and ludmilla," which placed him at once at the head of the poets of his day, who had formed themselves into a society called "arzamas," which was to russian romanticism what the cénacle was to the french,--a centre of attack and defence against classicism; but at length their literary discussions overstepped the forbidden territory of politics, and certain ideas were broached which ended in the conspiracy of december. if puchkine was not himself a conspirator, he was at least acquainted with the movement; his ode to liberty alarmed the police, and the czar said to the director of the lyceum, "your former pupil is inundating russia with revolutionary verses, and every boy knows them by heart." that same afternoon the czar signed the order for puchkine's banishment,--a great good-fortune for the poet; for had he not been banished he might have been implicated in the conspiracy about to burst forth, and sent to siberia or to the quicksilver mines. he was expelled from odessa, which was his first place of confinement, because his byronic bravado had a pernicious influence upon the young men of the place, and he was sent home to his father, with whom he could come to no understanding whatever. while there he heard of the death of alexander and the events of december. upon knowing that his friends were all compromised and under arrest, he started for st. petersburg, but having met a priest and seen a hare cross his path, he considered these ill omens, and, yielding to superstition, he turned back. soon afterward he wrote to the new czar begging reprieve of banishment, which was granted. the iron czar sent for him to come to the palace, and held with him a conversation or dialogue which has become famous in the annals of the historians: "if you had found yourself in st. petersburg on the th of december, where would you have been?" asked nicholas. "among the rebels," answered the poet. far from being angry, the sovereign was pleased with his reply, and he embraced puchkine, saying: "your banishment is at an end; and do not let fear of the censors spoil your poetry, alexander, son of sergius, for i myself will be your censor." this is not the only instance of this inflexible autocrat's warm-heartedness. more than once his imperial hand stayed the sentence of the censors and gave the wing to genius. nicholas was not afraid of art, and was, besides, an intelligent amateur of literature. we shall see how he protected even the satire of gogol. and so, with a royal suavity which softens the most selfish character, nicholas gained to his side the first poet of russia, and forever alienated him from the cause for which his friends suffered in gloomy fortresses and in exile, or perished on the scaffold. puchkine had no other choice than to accept the situation or forfeit his freedom,--to make peace with the emperor or to go and vegetate in some village and bury his talent alive. he chose his vocation as poet, accepted the imperial favor, and returned to st. petersburg, where he found a remnant of the arzamas, but now languid and without creative fire. being restored to his place in high society, he tasted the delights of living in a sphere with which his refined and aristocratic nature was in harmony. he was a poet; he enjoyed the privileges and immunities of a demi-god, the just tribute paid to the productive genius of beauty. and yet at times the pride and independence hushed within his soul stirred again, and he thought with horror upon the hypocrisy of his position as imperial oracle. but he found himself at the height of his glory, doing his best work, seldom annoyed by the censorial scissors, thanks to the czar; and so, flattered by the throne, the court, and the public, he led to the altar his "brown-skinned virgin," his beautiful natalia, with whom he was so deeply in love. having satisfied every earthly desire, he must needs, like polycrates, throw his ring into the sea. all his happiness came to a sudden end, and not only his happiness, but his life, went to pay his debt to that high society which had received him with smiles and fair promises. puchkine's end is as dramatic as any novel. a certain french legitimist who had been well received by the nobility at st. petersburg took advantage of the chivalrous customs then in vogue there, to pay court to the poet's beautiful wife, electing her as the lady of his thoughts without disguise. society protected this little skirmish, and assisted the gallant to meet his lady at every entertainment and in every _salon_; and as puchkine, though quite unsuspicious, showed plainly that he did not enjoy the game, they amused themselves with exciting and annoying him, ridiculing him, and making him the butt of epigrams and anonymous verses. the marriage of "dante"--as the adorer of his wife was called--with his wife's sister, far from calming his nerves, only irritated him the more, and he believed it to be a stratagem on the lover's part, a means of approaching the nearer to his desires. becoming desperate, he sought and obtained a challenge to a duel, and fell mortally wounded by a ball from his adversary. two days later he died, having just received a letter from the emperor, saying:-- "dear alexander, son of sergius,--if it is the will of providence that we should never meet again in this world, i counsel you to die like a christian. give yourself no anxiety for your wife and children; i will care for them." russia cried out with indignation at the news of his death, accusing polite society in round terms of having taken the part of the professional libertine against the husband,--of the french adventurer against their illustrious compatriot; and lermontof voiced the national anger in some celebrated lines to this effect:-- "thy last days were poisoned by the vicious ridicule of low detractors; thou hast died thirsting for vengeance, moaning bitterly to see thy most beautiful hopes vanished; none understood the deep emotion of thy last words, and the last sigh of thy dying lips was lost." but i agree with those who, in spite of this fine elegy, do not regret the premature end of the romantic poet. his life, exuberant, brilliant, fecund, passionate, like that of byron, could have no more appropriate termination than a pistol-shot. he died before the end of romanticism--his tragic history lent him a halo which lifts his figure above the mists of time. i have seen victor hugo and our own zorilla in their old age, and i was not guilty of wishing them anything but long life and prosperity; but, æsthetically speaking, it seemed to me that both of them had lived forty years too long, and that alfred de musset, espronceda, and byron were well off in their glorious tombs. puchkine belongs undeniably to the great general currents of european literature; only now and then does he manifest the peculiar genius of his country which was so strongly marked in gogol. but it would be unjust to consider him a mere imitator of foreign romanticists, and some even claim that he always had one foot upon the soil of classicism, taking the phrase in the helenic sense, as particularly shown in his "eugene oneguine," and that, were he to live again, his talents would undergo a transformation and shine forth in the modern novel and the national theatre. besides being a lyric poet of first rank, puchkine must also be considered a superb prose writer, having learned from voltaire a harmony of arrangement, a discreet selection of details, and a concise, clear, and rapid phrasing. his novel, "the captain's daughter," is extremely pretty and interesting, at times amusing, or again very touching, and in my opinion preferable in its simplicity to the interminable narratives of walter scott. but puchkine has one remarkable peculiarity, which is, that while he had a keen sympathy with the popular poetry, and was fully sensible of the revelation of it by gogol, which he applauded with all his heart, yet the author of "boris godonof" was so caught in the meshes of romanticism that he never could employ his faculties in poetry of a national character. puchkine's works have no ethnical value at all. his melancholy is not the despairing sadness of the russian, but the romantic _morbidezza_ expressed often in much the same words by byron, espronceda, and de musset. the phenomenon is common, and easily explained. it lies in the fact that romanticism was always and everywhere prejudicial to the manifestation of nationality, and made itself a nation apart, composed of half-a-dozen persons from every european country. realism, with its principles--whether tacitly or explicitly accepted--of human verities, heredity, atavism, race and place influences, etc., became a necessity in order that writers might follow their natural instincts and speak in their own mother tongue. within the restricted circle of poets who hovered around puchkine, one deserves especial mention, namely, lermontof. he is the second lyric poet of russia, and perhaps embodies the spirit of romanticism even more than puchkine; he is the real russian byron. his life is singularly like that of puchkine, he having also been banished to the caucasus, and for the very reason of having written the elegy upon puchkine's death; like him he was also killed in a duel, but still earlier in life, and before he had reached the plenitude of his powers. lermontof became the singer of the caucasian region. at that time it was really a great favor to send a poet to the mountains, for there he came in contact with things that reclaimed and lifted his fancy,--air, sun, liberty, a wooded and majestic landscape, picturesque and charming peasant-maidens, wild flowers full of new and virginal perfume like the haydees and fior d'alizas sung of by our western poets. there they forgot the deceits of civilization and the weariness of mind that comes of too much reading; there the brain was refreshed, the nerves calmed, and the moral fibre strengthened. puchkine, lermontof, and tolstoï, each in his own way, have lauded the regenerative virtue of the snow-covered mountains. but lermontof in particular was full of it, lived in it, and died in it, after his fatal wound at the age of twenty-six, when public opinion had just singled him out as puchkine's successor. he had drunk deeply of byron's fountain, and even resembled byron in his discontent, restlessness, and violent passions, which more than byron's were tinged with a stripe of malice and pride, so that his enemies used to say that to describe lucifer he needed only to look at himself in the glass. there is an unbridled freedom, a mocking irony, and at times a deep melancholy at the bottom of his poetic genius; it is inferior to puchkine's in harmony and completeness, but exceeds it in an almost painful and thrilling intensity; there was more gall in his soul, and therefore more of what has been called subjectivity, even amounting to a fierce egoism. lermontof is the high-water mark of romanticism, and after his death it necessarily began to ebb; it had exhausted curses, fevers, complaints, and spleens, and now the world of literature was ready for another form of art, wider and more human, and that form was realism. i am sorry to have to deal in _isms_, but the fault is not mine; we are handling ideas, and language offers no other way. the transition came by means of satire, which is exceptionally fertile in russia. a genius of wonderful promise arose in griboiëdof, a keen observer and moralist, who deserves to be mentioned after puchkine, if only for one comedy which is considered the gem of the russian stage, and is entitled (freely rendered) "too clever by half." the hero is a misanthropic patriot who sighs for the good old times and abuses the mania for foreign education and imitation. this shows the first impulse of the nation to know and to assert itself in literature as in everything else. being prohibited by the censor, the play circulated privately in manuscript; every line became a proverb, and the people found their very soul reflected in it. five years later, when puchkine was returning from the caucasus, he met with a company of georgians who were drawing a dead body in a cart: it was the body of griboiëdof, who had been assassinated in an insurrection. between the decline of the romantic period and the appearance of new forms inspired by a love of the truth, there hovered in other parts of europe undefined and colorless shapes, sterile efforts and shallow aspirations which never amounted to anything. but not so in russia. romanticism vanished quickly, for it was an aristocratic and artificial condition, without root and without fruit conducive to the well-being of a nation which had as yet scarcely entered on life, and which felt itself strong and eager for stimulus and aim, eager to be heard and understood; realism grew up quickly, for the very youth of the nation demanded it. russia, which until then had trod with docile steps upon the heels of europe, was at last to take the lead by creating the realistic novel. she had not to do violence to her own nature to accomplish this. the russian, little inclined to metaphysics, unless it be the fatalist philosophy of the hindus, more quick at poetic conceptions than at rational speculations, carries realism in his veins along with scientific positivism; and if any kind of literature be spontaneous in russia it is the epic, as shown now in fragmentary songs and again in the novels. before ever they were popular in their own country, balzac and zola were admired and understood in russia. the two great geniuses of lyric poetry, puchkine and lermontof, confirm this theory. though both perished before the descriptive and observing faculties of their countrymen were matured, they had both instinctively turned to the novel, and perhaps the possible direction of their genius was thus shadowed forth as by accident. puchkine seems to me endowed with qualities which would have made him a delightful novel-writer. his heroes are clearly and firmly drawn and very attractive; he has a certain healthy joyousness of tone which is quite classic, and a brightness and freedom of coloring that i like; in the short historic narrative he has left us we never see the slightest trace of the lyric poet. as to lermontof, is it not marvellous that a man who died at the age of twenty-six years should have produced anything like a novel? but he left a sort of autobiography, which is extremely interesting, entitled "a contemporary hero," which hero, petchorine by name, is really the type of the romantic period, exacting, egotistical, at war with himself and everybody else, insatiable for love, yet scorning life, a type that we meet under different forms in many lands; now swallowing poison like de musset's rolla, now refusing happiness like adolfo, now consumed with remorse like réné, now cocking his pistol like werther, and always in a bad humor, and to tell the truth always intolerable. "my hero," writes lermontof, "is the portrait of a generation, not of an individual." and he makes that hero say, "i have a wounded soul, a fancy unappeased, a heart that nothing can ease. everything becomes less and less to me. i have accustomed myself to suffering and joy alike, and i have neither feelings nor impressions; everything wearies me." but there are many fine pages in the narratives of lermontof besides these poetical declamations. perhaps the novel might also have offered him a brilliant future. the sad fate of the writers during the reign of nicholas i. is remarkable, when we consider how favorable it was to art in other respects. alexander herzen calculated that within thirty years the three most illustrious russian poets were assassinated or killed in a duel, three lesser ones died in exile, two became insane, two died of want, and one by the hand of the executioner. alas! and among these dark shadows we discern one especially sad; it is that of nicholas gogol, a soul crushed by its own greatness, a victim to the noblest infirmity and the most generous mania that can come upon a man, a martyr to love of country. iii. russian realism: gogol, its founder. gogol was born in ; he was of cossack blood, and first saw the light of this world amid the steppes which he was afterward to describe so vividly. his grandfather, holding the child upon his knee, amused him with stories of russian heroes and their mighty deeds, not so very long past either, for only two generations lay between gogol and the cossack warriors celebrated in the _bilinas_. sometimes a wandering minstrel sang these for him, accompanying himself on the _bandura_. in this school was his imagination taught. we may imagine the effect upon ourselves of hearing the romance of the cid under such circumstances. when gogol went to st. petersburg with the intention of joining the ranks of russian youth there, though ostensibly to seek employment, he carried a light purse and a glowing fancy. he found that the great city was a desert more arid than the steppes, and even after obtaining an office under the government he endured poverty and loneliness such as no one can describe so well as himself. his position offered him one advantage which was the opportunity of studying the bureaucratic world, and of drawing forth from amid the dust of official papers the material for some of his own best pages. on the expiration of his term of office he was for a while blown about like a dry leaf. he tried the stage but his voice failed him; he tried teaching but found he had no vocation for it. nor had he any aptitude for scholarship. in the gymnasium of niejine his rank among the pupils was only medium; german, mathematics, latin, and greek were little in his line; he was an illiterate genius. but in his inmost soul dwelt the conviction that his destiny held great things in store for him. in his struggle with poverty, the remembrance of the hours he had passed at school reading puchkine and other romantic poets began to urge him to try his fortune at literature. one day he knocked with trembling hand at puchkine's door; the great poet was still asleep, having spent the night in gambling and dissipation, but on waking, he received the young novice with a cordial welcome, and with his encouragement gogol published his first work, called "evenings at the farm." it met with amazing success; for the first time the public found an author who could give them a true picture of russian life. puchkine had hit the mark in advising him to study national scenes and popular customs; and who knows whether perhaps his conscience did not reproach him with shutting his own eyes to his country and the realities she offered him, and stopping his ears against the voice of tradition and the charms of nature? gogol's "evenings at the farm" is the echo of his own childhood; in these pages the russia of the people lives and breathes in landscapes, peasants, rustic customs, dialogues, legends, and superstitions. it is a bright and simple work, not yet marked with the pessimism which later on darkened the author's soul; it has a strong smell of the soil; it is full of dialect and colloquial diminutive and affectionate terms, with now and then a truly poetical passage. is it not strange that the intellect of a nation sometimes wanders aimlessly through foreign lands seeking from without what lies handier at home, and borrowing from strangers that of which it has a super-abundance already? and how sweet is the surprise one feels at finding so beautiful the things which were hidden from our understanding by their very familiarity! "the tales of mirgorod," which followed the "evenings at the farm," contain one of the gems of gogol's writings, the story of "taras boulba." gogol has the quality of the epic poet, though he is generally noted only for his merits as a novelist; but judging from his greatest works, "taras boulba" and "dead souls," i consider his epic power to be of the first class, and in truth i hold him to be, rather more than a modern novelist, a master poet who has substituted for the lyric poetry brought into favor by romanticism the epic form, which is much more suited to the russian spirit. he is the first who has caught the inspiration of the _bilinas_, the hero-songs, the sclavonic poetry created by the people. the novel, it is true, is one manifestation of epic poetry, and in a certain way every novelist is a rhapsodist who recites his canto of the poem of modern times; but there are some descriptive, narrative fictions, which, imbued with a greater amount of the poetic element united to a certain large comprehensive character, more nearly resemble the ancient idea of the epopee; and of this class i may mention "don quixote," and perhaps "faust," as examples. by this i do not mean to place gogol on the same plane as goethe and cervantes; yet i associate them in my mind, and i see in gogol's books the transition from the lyric to the epic which is to result in the true novel that begins with turguenief. all the world is agreed that "taras boulba" is a true prose poem, modelled in the homeric style, the hero of which is a people that long preserved a primitive character and customs. gogol declared that he merely allowed himself to reproduce the tales of his grandfather, who thus becomes the witness and actor in this cossack iliad. one charming trait in gogol is his love for the past and his fidelity to tradition; they have as strong an attraction for him certainly as the seductions of the future, and both are the outcome of the two sublime sentiments which divide every heart,--retrospection and anticipation. gogol, who is so skilful in sketching idyllic scenes of the tranquil life of country proprietors, clergy, and peasants, is no less skilful in his descriptions of the adventurous existence of the cossack; sometimes he is so faithful to the simple grandeur of his grandfather's style, that though the action in "taras boulba" takes place in recent times, it seems a tale of primeval days. the story of this novel--i had almost said this poem--unfolds among the cossacks of the don and the dnieper, who were at that time a well-preserved type of the ancient warlike scythians that worshipped the blood-stained sword. old taras boulba is a wild animal, but a very interesting wild animal; a rude and majestic warrior-like figure cast in homeric mould. there is, i confess, just a trace of the leaven of romanticism in taras. not all in vain had gogol hidden puchkine's works under his pillow in school-days; but the whole general tone recalls inevitably the grand naturalism of homer, to which is added an oriental coloring, vivid and tragical. taras boulba is an ataman of the cossacks, who has two young sons, his pride and his hope, studying at the university of kief. on a declaration of war between the savage cossack republic and poland, the old hawk calls his two nestlings and commands them to exchange the book for the sword. one of the sons, bewitched by the charms of a polish maiden, deserts from the cossack camp and fights in the ranks of the enemy; he at length falls into the power of his enraged father, who puts him to death in punishment for his treason. after dreadful battles and sieges, starvation and suffering, taras dies, and with him the glory and the liberty of the cossacks. such is the argument of this simple story, which begins in a manner not unlike the tale of the cid. the two sons of taras arrive at their father's house, and the father begins to ridicule their student garb. "'do not mock at us, father,' says the elder. "'listen to the gentleman! and why should i not mock at you, i should like to know?' "'because, even though you are my father, i swear by the living god, i will smite you.' "'hi! hi! what? your father?' cries taras, receding a step or two. "'yes, my own father; for i will take offence from nobody at all.' "'how shall we fight then,--with fists?' exclaims the father in high glee. "'however you like.' "'with fists, then,' answers taras, squaring off at him. 'let us see what sort of fellow you are, and what sort of fists you have.'" and so father and son, instead of embracing after a long absence, begin to pommel one another with naked fists, in the ribs, back, and chest, each advancing and receding in turn. "'why, he fights well,' exclaims taras, stopping to take breath. 'he is a hero,' he adds, readjusting his clothes. 'i had better not have put him to the proof. but he will be a great cossack! good! my son, embrace me now.'" this is like the delight of diego lainez in the spanish romanceros, when he says, "your anger appeases my own, and your indignation gives me pleasure." could gogol have been acquainted with the tale of the cid and the other spanish romanceros? i do not think it too audacious to believe it possible, when we know that this author was a delighted reader of "don quixote," and really drew inspiration from it for his greatest work. but let us return to "taras boulba." another admirable passage is on the parting of the mother and sons. the poor wife of taras is the typical woman of the warlike tribes, a gentle and miserable creature amid a fierce horde of men who are for the most part celibates,--a creature once caressed roughly for a few moments by her harsh husband, and then abandoned, and whose love instincts have concentrated themselves upon the fruits of his early fugitive affection. she sees again her beloved sons who are to spend but one night at home,--for at break of day the father leads them forth to battle, where perhaps at the first shock some tartar may cut off their heads and hang them by the hair at his saddle-girths. she watches them while they sleep, kept awake herself by hope and fear. "'perhaps,' she says to herself, 'when boulba awakes he will put off his departure one or two days; perhaps he was drunk, and did not think how soon he was taking them away from me.'" but at dawn her maternal hopes vanish; the old cossack makes ready to set off. "when the mother saw her sons leap to horse, she rushed toward the younger, whose face showed some trace of tenderness; she grasped the stirrup and the saddle-girth, and would not let go, and her eyes were wide with agony and despair. two strong cossacks seized her with firm but respectful hands, and bore her away to the house. but scarcely had they released her upon the threshold, when she sprang out again quicker than a mountain-goat, which was the more remarkable in a woman of her age; with superhuman effort she held back the horse, gave her son a wild, convulsive embrace, and again was carried away. the young cossacks rode off in silence, choking their tears for fear of their father; and the father, too, had a queer feeling about his heart, though he took care that it should not be noticed." in another place i have translated his magnificent description of the steppe, and i should like to quote the admirable paragraphs on starvation, on the killing of ostap boulba, and the death of taras. as an example of the extreme simplicity with which gogol manages his most dramatic passages and yet obtains an intense and powerful effect, i will give the scene in which taras takes the life of his son by his own hand,--a scene which prosper mérimée imitated in his celebrated sketch of "mateo falcone." andry comes out of the city, which was attacked by the cossacks. "at the head of the squadron galloped a horseman, handsomer and haughtier than the others. his black hair floated from beneath his bronze helmet; around his arm was bound a beautifully embroidered scarf. taras was stupefied on recognizing in him his son andry. but the latter, inflamed with the ardor of combat, eager to merit the prize which adorned his arm, threw himself forward like a young hound, the handsomest, the fleetest, the strongest of the pack.... old taras stood a moment, watching andry as he cut his way by blows to the right and the left, laying the cossacks about him. at last his patience was exhausted. "'do you strike at your own people, you devil's whelp?' he cried. "andry, galloping hard away, suddenly felt a strong hand pulling at his bridle-rein. he turned his head and saw taras before him. he grew pale, like a child caught idling by his master. his ardor cooled as though it had never blazed; he saw only his terrible father, motionless and calm before him. "'what are you doing?' exclaimed taras, looking at the young man sharply. andry could not reply, and his eyes remained fixed upon the ground. "'how now, my son? have your polish friends been of much use to you?' andry was dumb as before. "'you commit felony, you barter your religion, you sell your own people.... but wait, wait.... get down.' like an obedient child andry alighted from his horse, and, more dead than alive, stood before his father. "'stand still. do not move. i gave you life, i will take your life away,' said taras then; and going back a step he took the musket from his shoulder. andry was white as wax. he seemed to move his lips and to murmur a name. but it was not his country's name, nor his mother's, nor his brother's; it was the name of the beautiful polish maiden. taras fired. as the wheat-stalk bends after the stroke of the sickle, andry bent his head and fell upon the grass without uttering a word. the man who had slain his son stood a long time contemplating the body, beautiful even in death. the young face, so lately glowing with strength and winsome beauty, was still wonderfully comely, and his eyebrows, black and velvety, shaded his pale features. "'what was lacking to make him a true cossack?' said boulba. 'he was tall, his eyebrows were black, he had a brave mien, and his fists were strong and ready to fight. and he has perished, perished without glory, like a cowardly dog.'" in the opinion of guizot there is perhaps no true epic poem in the modern age besides "taras boulba," in spite of some defects in it and the temptation to compare it with homer to its disadvantage. but gogol's glory is not derived solely from his epopee of the cossacks. his especial merit, or at least his greatest service to the literature of his country, lies in his having been what neither lermontof nor puchkine could be; namely, the centre at which romanticism and realism join hands, the medium of a smooth and easy transition from lyric poetry, more or less imported from abroad, and the national novel; the founder of the _natural school_, which was the advance sentinel of modern art. this tendency is first exhibited in a little sketch inserted in the same volume with taras boulba, and entitled "the small proprietors of former times," also translated as "old-fashioned farmers," or "old-time proprietors,"--a story of the commonplace, full of keen observations and wrought out in the methods of the great contemporary novelists. about the year , at the height of the romantic period, gogol gave up his official employment forever, exclaiming, "i am going to be a free cossack again; i will belong to nobody but myself." he then published a little volume of _arabesques_,--a collection of disconnected articles, criticisms, and sketches, chiefly interesting because by him. his short stories of this period are the stirrings of his awakening realism; and among them the one most worthy of notice is "the cloak," which is filled with a strain of sympathy and pity for the poor, the ignorant, the plain, and the dull people,--social zeros, so different from the proud and aristocratic ideal of romanticism, and who owe their title of citizenship in russian literature to gogol. the hero of the story is an awkward, half-imbecile little office-clerk, who knows nothing but how to copy, copy, copy; a martyr to bitter cold and poverty, and whose dearest dream is to possess a new cloak, for which he saves and hoards sordidly and untiringly. the very day on which he at last fulfils his desire, some thieves make off with his precious cloak. the police, to whom he carries his complaint, laugh in his face, and the poor fellow falls a victim to the deepest melancholy, and dies of a broken heart shortly after. "and," says gogol, "st. petersburg went on its way without acacio, son of acacio, just exactly as though it had never dreamed of his existence. this creature that nobody cared for, nobody loved, nobody took any interest in,--not even the naturalist who sticks a pin through a common fly and studies it attentively under a microscope,--this poor creature disappeared, vanished, went to the other world without anything in particular ever having happened to him in this.... but at least once before he died he had welcomed that bright guest, fortune, whom we all hope to see; to his eyes she appeared under the form of a cloak. and then misfortune fell upon him as suddenly and as darkly as it ever falls upon the great ones of the earth." "the cloak" and his celebrated comedy, "the inspector," also translated as "the revizor," are the result of his official experiences. men who have been a good deal tossed about, who have drunk of life's cup of bitterness, who have been bruised by its sharp corners and torn by its thorns, if they have an analytical mind and a magnanimous heart, human kindness and a spark of genius, become the great satirists, great humorists, and great moralists. "the inspector" is a picture of russian public customs painted by a master hand; it is a laugh, a fling of derision, at the baseness of a society and a political regimen under which bureaucracy and official formalism can descend to incredible vice and corruption. it seems at first a mere farce, such as is common enough on the russian or any stage; but the covert strength of the satire is so far-reaching that the "inspector" is a symbolical and cruel work. the curtain rises at the moment when the officials of a small provincial capital are anxiously awaiting the inspector, who is about to make them a visit incognito. a traveller comes to the only hotel or inn of the town, and all believe him to be the dreaded governmental attorney. it turns out that the traveller who has given them such a fright is neither more nor less than an insignificant employee from st. petersburg, a madcap fellow, who, having run short of money, is obliged to cut his vacation journey short. when he is apprised of a visit from the governor, he thinks he is about to be arrested. what is his astonishment when he finds that, instead of being put in prison, a purse of five hundred rubles is slipped into his hand, and he is conducted with great ceremony to visit hospitals and schools. as soon as he smells the _quid pro quo_ he adapts himself to the part, dissimulates, and plays the protector, puts on a majestic and severe demeanor, and after having fooled the whole town and received all sorts of obsequious attentions, he slips out with a full purse. a few minutes afterward the real inspector appears and the curtain falls. gogol frankly confesses that in this comedy he has tried to put together and crystallize all the evil that he saw in the administrative affairs of russia. the general impression it gave was that of a satire, as he desired; the nation looked at itself in the glass, and was ashamed. "in the midst of my own laughter, which was louder than ever," says gogol, "the spectator perceived a note of sorrow and anger, and i myself noticed that my laugh was not the same as before, and that it was no longer possible to be as i used to be in my works; the need to amuse myself with innocent fictions was gone with my youth." this is the sincere confession of the humorist whose laughter is full of tears and bitterness. this rough satire on the government of the autocrat nicholas, this terrible flagellation of wickedness in high places raised to a venerated national institution, was represented before the court and applauded by it, and the satirical author of it was subjected to no censor but the emperor himself, who read the play in manuscript, burst into roars of laughter over it, and ordered his players to give it without delay; and on the first night nicholas appeared in his box, and his imperial hands gave the signal for applause. the courtiers could not do otherwise than swallow the pill, but it left a bad taste and a bitter sediment in their hearts, which they treasured up against gogol for the day of revenge. on this occasion the terrible autocrat acted with the same exquisite delicacy and truly royal munificence which he had shown toward puchkine. on allowing gogol a pension of five thousand rubles, he said to the person who presented the petition, "do not let your protégé know that this gift is from me; he would feel obliged to write from a government standpoint, and i do not wish him to do that." several times afterward the emperor secretly sent him such gifts under cover of his friend joukowsky the poet, by which means he was able to defray his journeys to europe. without apparent cause gogol's character became soured about the year ; he became a prey to hypochondria, probably, as may be deduced from a passage in one of his letters, on account of the atmosphere of hostility which had hung over him since the publication of "the inspector." "everybody is against me," he says, "officials, police, merchants, literary men; they are all gnashing and snapping at my comedy! nowadays i hate it! nobody knows what i suffer. i am worn out in body and soul." he determined to leave the country, and he afterward returned to it only occasionally, until he went back at last to languish and die there. like turguenief, and not without some, truth, he declared that he could see his country, the object of his study, better from a distance; it is the law of the painter, who steps away from his picture to a certain distance in order to study it better. he went from one place to another in europe, and in rome he formed a close friendship with the russian painter ivanof, who had retired to a capuchin convent, where he spent twenty years on one picture, "the apparition of christ," and left it at last unfinished. some profess to believe that gogol was converted to catholicism, and with his friend devoted himself to a life of asceticism and contemplation of the hereafter, toward which vexed and melancholy souls often feel themselves irresistibly drawn. gogol felt a strong desire to deal with the truth, with realities; he longed to write a book that would tell _the whole truth_, which should show russia as she was, and which should not be hampered by influences that forced him to temporize, attenuate, and weigh his words,--a book in which he might give free vent to his satirical vein, and put his faculties of observation to consummate use. this book, which was to be a _résumé_ of life, a _chef d'oeuvre_, a lasting monument (the aspiration of every ambitious soul that cannot bear to die and be forgotten), at last became a fixed idea in gogol's mind; it took complete possession of him, gave him no repose, absorbed his whole life, demanded every effort of his brain, and finally remained unfinished. and yet what he accomplished constitutes the most profoundly human book that has ever been written in russia; it contains the whole programme of the school initiated by gogol, and compels us to count the author of it among the descendants of cervantes. "don quixote" was in fact the model for "dead souls," which put an end to romanticism, as "quixote" did to books of chivalry. that none may say that this supposition is dictated by my national pride, i am going to quote literally two paragraphs, one by gogol himself, the other by melchior de voguié, the intelligent french critic whose work on the russian novel has been so useful to me in these studies. "puchkine," says gogol, "has been urging me for some time to undertake a long and serious work. one day he talked to me of my feeble health, of the frequent attacks which may cause my premature death; he mentioned as an example cervantes, the author of some short stories of excellent quality, but who would never have held the place he is awarded among the writers of first rank, had he not undertaken his 'don quixote.' and at last he suggested to me a subject of his own invention on which he had thought of making a poem, and said he would tell it to nobody but me. the subject was 'the dead souls.' puchkine also suggested to me the idea of 'the inspector.'" "in spite of this frank testimony," adds voguié, "equally honorable to both friends, i must continue to believe that the true progenitor of 'dead souls' was cervantes himself. on leaving russia gogol turned toward spain, and studied at close quarters the literature of this country, especially 'don quixote,' which was always his favorite book. the spanish humorist held up to him a subject marvellously suited to his plans, the adventures of a hero with a mania which leads him into all regions of society, and who serves as the pretext to show to the spectator a series of pictures, a sort of human magic-lantern. the near relationship of these two works is indicated at all points,--the cogitative, sardonic spirit, the sadness underlying the laughter, and the impossibility of classifying either under any definite literary head. gogol protested against the application of the word 'novel' to his book, and himself called it a poem, dividing it, not into chapters but into cantos. poem it cannot be called in any rigorous sense of the term; but classify 'don quixote,' and gogol's masterpiece will fall into the same category." i read "dead souls" before reading voguié's criticism, and my impression coincided exactly with his. i said to myself, "this book is the nearest like 'don quixote' of any that i have ever read." there are important differences--how could it be otherwise?--and even discounting the loss to gogol by means of translation, a marked inferiority of the russian to cervantes; but they are writers of the same species, and even at the distance of two centuries they bear a likeness to each other. and the intention to take "don quixote" as a model is evident, even though gogol had never set foot in spain, as some of his compatriots affirm. "dead souls" may be divided into three parts: the first, which was completed and published in ; the second, which was incomplete and rudimentary, and cast into the flames by the author in a fit of desperation, but published after his death from notes that had escaped this holocaust; and the third, which never took shape outside the author's mind. even the contrast between the heroes of cervantes and gogol--the ingenious knight avenger of wrongs, and the clever rascal who goes from place to place trying to carry out his extravagant schemes--illustrates still more clearly the cervantesque affiliation of the book. undoubtedly gogol purposely chose a contrast, because he wished to embody in the story the wrath he felt at the social state of russia, more lamentable and hateful even than that of spain in cervantes' time. no more profound diatribe than "dead souls" has ever been written in russia, though it is a country where satire has flourished abundantly. sometimes there is a ray of sunshine, and the poet's tense brows relax with a hearty laugh. in the first chapter is a description of the russian inns, drawn with no less graceful wit than that of the inns of la mancha. it is not difficult to go on with the parallel. in "dead souls," as in "don quixote," the hero's servants are important personages, and so are their horses, which have become typical under the names of rocinante and rucio; the dialogues between the coachman selifan and his horses remind one of some of the passages between sancho and his donkey. as in "don quixote," the infinite variety of persons and episodes, the physiognomy of the places, the animated succession of incidents, offer a panorama of life. as in "don quixote," woman occupies a place in the background; no important love-affair appears in the whole book. gogol, like cervantes, shows less dexterity in depicting feminine than masculine types, except in the case of the grotesque, where he also resembles the creator of maritornes and teresa panza. as in "don quixote," the best part of the book is the beginning; the inspiration slackens toward the middle, for the reason, probably, that in both the poetic instinct supersedes the prudent forecasting of the idea, and there is in both something of the sublime inconsistency common to geniuses and to the popular muse. and in "don quixote," as in "dead souls," above the realism of the subject and the vulgarity of many passages there is a sort of ebullient, fantastic life, something supersensual, which carries us along under full sail into the bright world of imagination; something which enlivens the fancy, takes hold upon the mind, and charms the soul; something which makes us better, more humane, more spiritual in effect. the subject of "dead souls"--so strange as never to be forgotten--gives gogol a wide range for his pungent satire. tchitchikof--there's a name, indeed!--an ex-official, having been caught in some nefarious affair, and ruined and dishonored by the discovery, conceives a bright idea as to regaining his fortune. he knows that the serfs, called in russia by the generic name of _souls_, can be pawned, mortgaged, and sold; and that on the other hand the tax-collector obliges the owners to pay a _per capita_ tax for each soul. he remembers also that the census is taken on the friday before easter, and in the mean time the lists are not revised, seeing that natural processes compensate for losses by death. but in case of epidemic the owner loses more, yet continues to pay for hands that no longer toil for him; so it occurs to tchitchikof to travel over the country buying at a discount a number of _dead souls_ whose owners will gladly get rid of them, the buyer having only to promise to pay the taxes thereon; then, having provided these dead souls (though to all legal intents still living) with this extraordinary nominal value, he will register them as purchased, take the deed of sale to a bank in st. petersburg, mortgage them for a good round sum, and with the money thus obtained, buy real live serfs of flesh and blood, and by this clever trick make a fortune. no sooner said than done. the hero gives orders to harness his _britchka_, takes with him his coachman and his lackey,--two delicious characters!--and goes all over russia, ingratiating himself everywhere, finding out all about the people and the estates, meeting with all sorts of proprietors and functionaries, and falling into many adventures which, if not quite as glorious as those of the knight of la mancha, are scarcely less entertaining to read about. and where is such another diatribe on serfdom as this lugubrious burlesque furnishes, or any spectacle so painfully ironical as that of these wretched corpses, who are neither free nor yet within the narrow liberty of the tomb,--these poor bones ridiculed and trafficked for even in the precincts of death? this remarkable book, which contains a most powerful argument against the inveterate abuses of slavery, unites to its value as a social and humanitarian benefactor that of being the corner-stone of russian realism,--the realism which, though already perceptible in the prose writings of the romantic poets, appears in gogol, not as a confused precursory intuition, nor as an instinctive impulsion of a national tendency, but as a rational literary plan, well based and firmly established. a few quotations from "dead souls," and some passages also from gogol's letters, will be enough to prove this. "happy is the writer,"[ ] he says sarcastically, "who refrains from depicting insipid, disagreeable, unsympathetic characters without any charms whatever, and makes a study of those more distinguished, refined, and exquisite; the writer who has a fine tact in selecting from the vast and muddy stream of humanity, and devoting his attention to a few honorable exceptions to the average human nature; who never once lowers the clear, high tone of his lyre; who never puts his melodies to the ignoble use of singing about folk of no importance and low quality; and who, in fact, taking care never to descend to the too commonplace realities of life, soars upward bright and free toward the ethereal regions of his poetic ideal!... he soothes and flatters the vanity of men, casting a veil over whatever is base, sombre, and humiliating in human nature. all the world applauds and rejoices as he passes by in his triumphal chariot, and the multitude proclaims him a great poet, a creative genius, a transcendent soul. at the sound of his name young hearts beat wildly, and sweet tears of admiration shine in gentle eyes.... oh, how different is the lot of the unfortunate writer who dares to present in his works a faithful picture of social realities, exactly as they appear to the naked eye! who bade him pay attention to the muddy whirlpool of small miseries and humiliations, in which life is perforce swallowed up, or take notice of the crowd of vulgar, indifferent, bungling, corrupt characters, that swarm like ants under our feet? if he commit a sin so reprehensible, let him not hope for the applause of his country; let him not expect to be greeted by maidens of sixteen, with heaving bosom and bright, enthusiastic eyes.... nor will he be able to escape the judgment of his contemporaries, a tribunal without delicacy or conscience, which pronounces the works it devours in secret to be disgusting and low, and with feigned repugnance enumerates them among the writings which are hurtful to humanity; a tribunal which cynically imputes to the author the qualities and conditions of the hero whom he describes, allowing him neither heart nor soul, and belittling the sacred flame of talent which is his whole life. "contemporary judgment is not yet able or willing to acknowledge that the lens which discloses the habits and movements of the smallest insect is worthy the same estimation as that which reaches to the farthest limits of the firmament. it seems to ignore the fact that it needs a great soul indeed to portray sincerely and accurately the life that is stigmatized by public opinion, to convert clay into precious pearls through the medium of art. contemporary judgment finds it hard to realize that frank, good-natured laughter may be as full of merit and dignity as a fine outburst of lyric passion. contemporary judgment pretends ignorance, and bestows only censure and depreciation upon the sincere author,--knows him not, disdains him; and so he is left wretched, abandoned, without sympathy, like the lonely traveller who has no companion but his own indomitable heart. "i understand you, dear readers; i know very well what you are thinking in your hearts; you curse the means that shows you palpable, naked human misery, and you murmur within yourselves, 'what is the use of such an exhibition? as though we did not already know enough of the absurd and base actions that the world is always full of! these things are annoying, and one sees enough of them without having them set before us in literature. no, no; show us the beautiful, the charming; that which shall lift us above the levels of reality, elevate us, fill us with enthusiasm.' and this is not all. the author exposes himself to the anger of a class of would-be patriots, who, at the least indication of injury to the country's decorum, at the first appearance of a book that dwells on some bitter truths, raise a dreadful outcry. 'is it well that such things should be brought to light?' they say; 'this description may apply to a good many people we know; it might be you, or i, or our friend there. and what will foreigners say? it is too bad to allow them to form so poor an opinion of us.' hypocrites! the motive of their accusations is not patriotism, that noble and beautiful sentiment; it is mean, low calculation, wearing the mask of patriotism. let us tear off the mask and tread it under foot. let us call things by their names; it is a sacred duty, and the author is under obligation to tell the truth, the whole truth." these passages just quoted are sufficiently explicit; but the following, taken from one of gogol's letters concerning "dead souls," is still more so. "those who have analyzed my talents as a writer have not been able to discover my chief quality. only puchkine noticed it, and he used to say that no author had, so much as i, the gift of showing the reality of the trivialities of life, of describing the petty ways of an insignificant creature, of bringing out and revealing to my readers infinitesimal details which would otherwise pass unnoticed. in fact, there is where my talent lies. the reader revolts against the meanness and baseness of my heroes; when he shuts the book he feels as though he had come up from a stifling cellar into the light of day. they would have forgiven me if i had described some picturesque theatrical knave, but they cannot forgive my vulgarity. the russians are shocked to see their own insignificance." "my friend," he writes again, "if you wish to do me the greatest favor that i can expect from a christian, make a note of every small daily act and fact that you may come across anywhere. what trouble would it be to you to write down every night in a sort of diary such notes as these,--to-day i heard such an opinion expressed, i spoke with such a person, of such a disposition, such a character, of good education or not; he holds his hands thus, or takes his snuff so,--in fact, everything that you see and notice from the greatest to the least?" what more could the most modern novelist say,--the sort that carries a memorandum-book under his arm and makes sketches, after the fashion of the painters? thus we see that a man gifted with epic genius became in , before zola was dreamt of, and when edmond de goncourt was scarcely twenty, the founder of realism, the first prophet of the doctrine not inexactly called by some the doctrine of literary microbes, the poet of social atoms whose evolution at length overturns empires, changes the face of society, and weaves the subtle and elaborate woof of history. i will not go so far as to affirm with some of the critics that this light proceeded from the orient, and that french realism is an outcome of distant russian influence; for certainly balzac had a large influence in his turn upon his muscovite admirers. but it is undeniable that gogol did anticipate and feel the road which literature, and indeed all forms of art, were bound to follow in the latter half of the nineteenth century. certain critics see, in this doctrine of literary microbes preached by gogol in word and deed, nothing less than an immense evolution, characteristic of and appropriate to our age. it is the advent of literary democracy, which was perhaps foreseen by the subtle genius of those early novelists who described the beggar, the lame, halt, and blind, thieves and robbers, and creatures of the lowest strata of society; with the difference that to-day, united to this spirit of æsthetic demagogy, there is a shade of christian charity, compassion, and sympathy for wretchedness and misery which sometimes degenerates, in less virile minds than gogol's, into an affected sentimentality. george eliot, that great author and great advocate of gogol's own theories, and the patroness of realism of humblest degree, speaks in words very like those used by the author of "taras," of the strength of soul which a writer needs to interest himself in the vulgar commonplaces of life, in daily realities, and in the people around us who seem to have nothing picturesque or extraordinary about them. if there be any who could carry out this rehabilitation of the miserable with charity and tenderness, it would be the saxon and the sclav rather than the refined and haughty latin, and in both these the seed scattered by gogol has brought forth fruit abundantly. modern russian literature is filled with pity and sincere love toward the poorer classes; one might almost term it evangelical unction; at the voice of the poet (i cannot refuse this title to the author of "taras") russia's heart softened, her tears fell, and her compassion, like a caressing wave, swept over the toiling _mujik_, the ill-clad government clerk, the ragged, ignorant beggar, the political convict in the grasp of the police, and even the criminal, the vulgar assassin with shaven head, mangled shoulders, blood-stained hands, and manacled wrists. and more; their pity extends even to the dumb beasts, and the death of a horse mentioned by one great russian novelist is more touching than that of any emperor. gogol is the real ancestor of the russian novel; he contained the germs of all the tendencies developed in the generation that came after him; in him even turguenief the poet and artist, tolstoï the philosopher, and dostoiëwsky the visionary, found inspiration. there are writers who seem possessed of the exalted privilege of uniting and accumulating all the characteristics of their race and country; their brain is like a cave filled with wonderful stalactites formed by the deposits of ages and events. gogol is one of these. the peculiarities of the russian soul, the melancholy dreaminess, the satire, the suppressed and resigned soul-forces, are all seen in him for the first time. to quote from "dead souls" would be little satisfaction. one must read it to understand the deep impression it made in russia. after looking it through, puchkine exclaimed, "how low is our country fallen!" and the people, much against their will, finally acknowledged the same conviction. after a hard fight with the censors, the work of art came off at last victorious; it captured all classes of minds, and became, like "don quixote," the talk of every drawing-room, the joke of every meeting-place, and a proverb everywhere. the serfs were now virtually set free by force of the opinion created, and the whole nation saw and knew itself in this æsthetic revelation. but the man who dares to make such a revelation must pay for his temerity with his life. gogol returned from rome intent upon the completion of the fatal book; but his nerves, which were almost worn out, failed him utterly at times, his soul overflowed with bitterness and gall, and at last in a fit of rage and desperation he burned the manuscript of the second part, together with his whole library. his darkened mind was haunted by the question in hamlet's monologue, the problem concerning "that bourn from which no traveller returns;" his meditations took a deeply religious hue, and his last work, "letters to my friends," is a collection of edifying epistles, urging the necessity of the consideration of the hereafter. to these exhortations he added one on sclavophile nationalism, exaggerated by a fanatical devotion; and in the same breath he heralds the spirit of the gospels and anathematizes the theories imported from the occident, and declares that he has given up writing for the sake of dedicating his time to self-introspection and the service of his neighbor, and that henceforth he recognizes nothing but his country and his god. the public was exasperated; it was gogol's fate to rouse the tiger. who ever heard of a satirist turning church father? it began to be whispered that gogol had become a devotee of mysticism; and it is quite true that on his return from a pilgrimage to jerusalem he lived miserably, giving all he had to the poor. he was hypochondriac and misanthropic, excepting when with children, whose innocent ways brought back traces of his former good-nature. his death is laid to two different causes. the general story is that during the revolution of he lost what little intelligence remained to him, under the conviction that there was no remedy for his country's woes; and at last, weighed down by an incurable melancholy and despair, and terrified by visions of universal destruction and other tremendous catastrophes, he fell on his knees and fasted for a whole day before the holy pictures that hung at the head of his bed, and was found there dead. recent writers modify this statement, and claim to know on good authority that gogol died of a typhoid fever, which, with his chronic infirmities, was a fatal complication. whatever may have been the illness which took him out of the world, it is certain that the part of gogol most diseased was his soul, and his sickness was a too intense love of country, which could not see with indifferent optimism the ills of the present or the menace of the future. gogol had no heart-burdens except the suffering he endured for the masses; he was unmarried, and was never known to have any passion but a love of country exaggerated to a dementia. it is a strange thing that gogol--the sincere reactionist, the admirer of absolutism and of autocracy, the pan-sclavophile, the habitual enemy of western paganism and liberal theories--should have been the one to throw russian letters into their present mad whirl, into the path of nihilism and into the currents of revolution,--a course which he seems to have described once in allegory, in one of the most admirable pages of "dead souls," where he compares russia to a _troïka_. i will quote it, and so take my farewell of this russian cervantes:-- "rapidity of motion [in travel] is like an unknown force, a hidden power which seizes us and carries us on its wings; we skim through the air, we fly, and everything else flies too; the verst-stones fly; the tradesmen's carts fly past on one side and the other; forests with dark patches of pines rush by, and the noise of destroying axes and the cawing of hungry crows; the road flies by and is lost in the distance where we can distinguish neither object nor form nor color, unless it be a bit of the sky or the moon continually crossed by patches of flying cloud. o troïka, troïka, bird-troïka! there is no need to ask who invented thee! thou couldst not have been conceived save in the breast of a quick, active people, in the midst of a gigantic territory that covers half the globe, and where nobody dares count the verst-stones on the roads for fear of vertigo! thou art not graceful in thy form, o telega, rustic britchka, kibitka, thou carriage for all roads in winter or summer! no, thou art not an object of art made to please the eye; dry wood, a hatchet, a chisel, a clever arm,--with these thou art set up; there is not a peasant in yaroslaf that knows not how to construct thee. now the troïka is harnessed. and where is the man? what man? the driver? aha! it is this same peasant! very well, let him put on his boots and get up on his seat. did you say his boots? this is no german postilion; he needs no boots nor any foot-gear at all. all that he needs is mittens for his hands and a beard on his chin! see him balancing himself; hear him sing. now he pulls away like a whirlwind; the wheels seem a smooth circle from centre to circumference, and the tires are invisible; the ground rushes to meet the clattering hoofs; the foot-traveller leaps to one side with a cry of fright, then stops and opens his mouth in astonishment; but the vehicle has passed, and on it flies, on it flies, and far away a little whirl of dust rises, spreads out, divides, and disappears in gauzy patches, falling gently upon the sides of the road. it is all gone; nothing remains of it. "thou art like the troïka, o russia, my beloved country! dost thou not feel thyself carried onward toward the unknown like this impetuous bird which nobody can overtake? the road is invisible under thy feet, the bridges echo and groan, and thou leavest everything behind thee in the distance. men stop and gaze surprised at this celestial portent. is it the lightning? is it the thunderbolt from heaven itself? what causes this movement of universal terror? what mysterious and incomprehensible force spurs on thy steeds? they are russian steeds, good steeds. doth the whirlwind sometimes nestle in their manes? the signal is given: three bronze breasts expand; twelve ready feet start with simultaneous impetus, their light hoofs scarce striking the ground; three horses are changed before, our very eyes into three parallel lines which fly like a streak through the tremulous air. the troïka flies, sails, bright as a spirit of god. o russia, russia! whither goest thou? answer! but there is no response; the bell clangs with a supernatural tone; the air, beaten and lashed, whistles and whirls, and rushes off in wide currents; the troïka cuts them all on the wing, and nations, monarchies, and empires stand aside and let her pass." [ ] i could take this passage bodily from the translation of "dead souls" made by isabella hapgood directly from the russian, but there are some discrepancies in which the spanish writer seems to be in the right, as in the use of the word _writer_ for _reader_.--tr. book iv. modern russian realism. i. turguenief, poet and artist. in reviewing the development of the school of realists founded by nicholas gogol, i shall begin with the one among his followers and descendants who is not merely the first in chronological order, but the most intelligible and sympathetic of the russian novelists, ivan turguenief. the name of turguenief has long been well known in russia. in , before the novelist made his appearance, humboldt said to a member of this family, "the name you bear commands the highest respect and esteem in this country." alexander turguenief was a savant, and the originator of a new style of historiography, in which he revealed traces of the communicative and cosmopolitan instincts that distinguish his nephew beyond other novelists of his country, for he--the uncle--courted acquaintance with many of the most eminent men of europe, among them walter scott. another member of the family, nicholaï turguenief, was a statesman who found himself obliged to reside in foreign lands on account of political vicissitudes; he had the honor of preceding his nephew ivan in the advocacy of serf-emancipation. ivan was the son of a country gentleman, and his real education began among the heathery hills and in the company of indefatigable hunters, whose stories, colored by the blaze of the camp-fire, were transcribed afterward by ivan's wonderful pen. his intellect was awakened and formed in berlin, where he ranged through the philosophies of kant and hegel, and, as he expresses it, threw himself head-first into the ocean of german thought and came out purified and regenerated for the rest of his life. is it not wonderful,--the power of this german philosophy, which, though it seems but a chilly and lugubrious labyrinth, gives a new temper to a mind of fine and artistic quality, like the toledo blade thrust into the cold bath, or achilles after washing in the waters of the styx? as scholasticism gave a strange power to the poetry of dante, so german metaphysics seems to give wings to the imagination in our times. those artist writers (like zola, for example) who have not wandered through this dark forest seem to lack a certain tension in their mental vigor, a certain tone in their artistic spectrum! russian youth, about the year , had their mecca in the faculty of philosophy at berlin, of which hegel held one chair; and there the future celebrities of russia were wont to meet. on leaving that radiant atmosphere of ideas and returning to his country home in russia, turguenief was overcome by the inevitable melancholy which attacks the man who leaves civilization behind with its intellectual brightness and activity, and enters a land where, according to the words of the hero of "virgin soil," "everything sleeps but the wine-shop." this feeling of nostalgia the novelist has analyzed with a master hand in the pages of "the nobles' nest."[ ] hungry for wider horizons and for a literary life and atmosphere, turguenief went to st. petersburg. all the intellect of the time was grouped about bielinsky, who was a rare critic, and its sentiments were voiced by a periodical called the "contemporary." bielinsky, who had adopted the pessimist theory that russian art could never exist until there was political emancipation, was obliged to acknowledge the indisputable worth of turguenief's first efforts, and encouraged him to publish some excellent sketches in a collection entitled "papers of a sportsman." contrary to bielinsky's prediction, turguenief's success was the greater because, with that exquisite artistic intuition which he alone of all russian writers possesses, he preached no moral and taught no lesson in it, which was the fashion or rather the pest of the novel in those days. turguenief again went abroad soon after and spent some time in paris, where he finished the "diary" and wrote "the nobles' nest." on his return to russia he wrote a clever criticism on the "dead souls," of gogol, whom he ventured to call a great man; and this called down upon his head the ire of the police and banishment to his estates, which punishment was not reprieved until the death of nicholas and the war of the crimea changed the aspect of everything in russia. notwithstanding the unjustifiable severity with which he was treated on this occasion, turguenief cherished no grievance or thought of revenge in his heart. it is one of the most beautiful and attractive traits in the amiable character of this man, that he could always preserve his serenity of soul in the midst of the distractions occasioned him by two equally violent parties each equally determined to embitter his life if he did not consent to embrace it. he stood in the gulf that separates the two halves of russia, yet he maintained that contemplative and thoughtful attitude which victor hugo ascribes to all true thinkers and poets. urged by family traditions and by the natural equilibrium of his mind to give the preference (in comparing russia with the rest of europe) to western civilization, he protested, with the courage born of conviction, against the blind vanity of the so-called national party of moscow, which, while it demanded the liberation of the serfs, was determined to create a new national condition which should be wholly sclavonic, and would tread under foot every vestige of foreign culture. with equal vigor, but with a fine tact and nothing of effeminacy or æsthetic repugnance, he protested also against the vandalism of the nihilists, whose propositions were set forth in a clever caricature in a satirical paper shortly after the explosion in the winter palace at st. petersburg. it represented the meeting of two nihilists amid a heap of ruins. one asks, "is everything gone up?" "no," replies the other, "the planet still exists." "blow it to pieces, then!" exclaims the first. yet turguenief, who was by no means what we should call a conservative, seeing that he lent his aid to the emancipation of the serfs, was far from approving the new revolutionary barbarism. those of turguenief's works which are best known and most discussed are consequently those which attack the ignominy of serfdom or the threats of revolutionary terror. in the first category may be mentioned "the diary of a hunter" and most of his exquisite short stories; in the second, "fathers and sons," a view of speculative nihilism, "virgin soil," the active side of the same, and "smoke," a harsh satire on the exclusiveness and fanaticism of the nationals, which cost him his popularity and made him innumerable enemies. i will speak more at length of each of these, and it is in no sense a digression from turguenief's biography to do so; for the life of this amiable dreamer and delicate poet is to be found in his books, and in the trials which he endured on their account. the first lengthy novel of turguenief is "demetrius rudine," a type which might have served as the model for alphonse daudet's "numa roumestan," a study of one of those complex characters, endowed with great aspirations and apparently rich faculties, but who lack force of will, and have no definite aim or career in view. "the nobles' nest" is to the rest of turguenief's works what the hour of supreme and tenderest emotion that even the hardest hearts must bow to some time is to human life as a whole; in none of his works, save perhaps in "living relics," has turguenief shown more depth of sentiment. the latter is a tear of compassion crystallized and set in gold; the former is a tragedy of happiness held before the eyes and then lost sight of, like the blue sky seen through a rent in the clouds and then covered over with a leaden and interminable veil. the hero is a russian gentleman or small proprietary nobleman, named lawretsky, who, deceived and betrayed by his wife, returns to his patrimonial estates, there to hide his dejection and loneliness. amid these scenes of honest, simple provincial life he meets with a cousin who is young, beautiful, and open-hearted, and who captures his heart. there is a rumor that his wife has died, and a hope of future happiness begins to revive in him; but the aforesaid deceased lady resuscitates, and makes her appearance, demanding with hypocritical humility her place beneath the conjugal roof, and the other poor girl retires to a convent. it is almost a sacrilege to extract the bare plot of the story in this way, for it is thus made to seem a mere vulgar complication, feeble and colorless. but the charm lies in the manner of presenting this simple drama; the novelist seems to hold a glass before our eyes through which we see the palpitations of these bruised and suffering hearts. the background is worthy of the figures on it. the description of provincial customs, the country, and the last chapter especially, are the perfection of art in the way of novel-writing. it is said that "the nobles' nest" produced in russia an effect comparable only to that of "paul and virginia" in france. then came the great change in russia: serfdom was no more! and turguenief, leaving these touching love-stories, threw himself into the new turmoil, and gave himself up to the study of the struggle between the new state of society and the old, which resulted in the novel, "fathers and sons." this book contains the pictures of two generations, and each one, says mérimée, shrewdly, found the portrait of the other well drawn, but called heaven to witness that that of himself was a caricature; and the cry of the fathers was exceeded by that of the sons, personified in the character of the positivist, bazarof. two old country gentlefolk, a physician and his wife, represent the elder generation, the society of yesterday, and two students the society and generation of to-day. bazarof is the leader, the ruling spirit of the two latter; the novelist has given him so much vivacity that we seem to hear him, to see his long, withered face, his broad brows, his great greenish eyes, and the prominent bulges on his heavy skull. i have seen such types as this many a time in the streets and alleys of the latin quarter, which is the lurking-place of russian refugees in paris, and i have said to myself, "there goes a bazarof, exiled and half dead with hunger, and yet perhaps more eager to set off a few pounds of dynamite under the grand opera-house than to breakfast!" bazarof, however, is not yet the nihilist who wishes to make a political system out of robbery and assassination, and to defend his theory in learned treatises; he is a young fellow smarting and burning under the contemplation of his country's sad state, and whom the knowledge got by his studies in medicine, natural sciences, and german materialist dogmas has made the bitterest and most intolerable of mortals, throwing away his gifts of intellect and his heart's best and most generous impulses. by reason of his energy of character and intellectual force, he takes the lead over his companion arcadio, an enthusiastic and unsophisticated boy; and the novel begins with the return of the latter to his father's country-house in company with his adored leader. the two generations then find themselves face to face, two atheistical and demagogic young students, and arcadio's father and uncle, conservative and ceremonious old men; the shock is immediate and terrible. bazarof, with his mania for dissecting frogs, his negligent dress, his harsh and dogmatic replies, his coarse frankness, and his odor of drugs and cheap tobacco, inspires antipathy from the first moment, and he is himself made more captious than usual by the appearance of the uncle, paul, an elegant and distinguished-looking man, who preserves the traditions of french culture, dresses with the utmost care, has a taste for all that is refined and poetical, and wears such finger-nails as, says bazarof, "would be worth sending to the exposition." the contrast is as lively as it is curious; every motion, every breath, produces conflict and augments the discord. arcadio, under his friend's influence, finds a thousand ways to annoy his elders; he sees his father reading a volume of puchkine, and snatches it out of his hands, giving him instead the ninth edition of "force and matter." and after all the poor boy really cannot follow the hard, harsh ideas of bazarof; but he is so completely under the latter's control, and looks upon him with so much respect and awe, and stands in such fear of his ridicule, that he hides his most innocent and natural sentiments as though they were sinful, and dares not even confess the pleasure he feels at sight of the country and his native village. "what sort of fellow is your friend bazarof?" arcadio's father and uncle inquire of him. "he is a nihilist," is the response. "that word must come from the latin _nihil_," says the father, "and must mean a man that acknowledges and respects nothing." "it means a man who looks at everything from a critical point of view," says arcadio, proudly. criticism, pitiless analysis, barren and overwhelming,--this is an epitome of bazarof, the spirit of absolute negation, the contemporary mephistopheles who begins by taking himself off to the inferno. the punishment falls in the right place. consistently with his physiological theories, bazarof denies the existence of love, calls it a mere natural instinct, and women _females_; but scarcely does he find himself in contact with a beautiful, interesting, clever woman--somewhat of a coquette too, perhaps--than he falls into her net like a clumsy idealogue that he is, and suffers and curses his fate like the most ardent romanticist. quite as curious as the antithesis of the two generations in the house of arcadio's aristocratic father, is the contrast shown in that of the more humble village physician, the father of bazarof, who is an altogether pathetic personage. he, too, is possessed of a certain pedantic and antiquated culture, and an excellent, kind heart; he adores his son, thinks him a demi-god, and yet cannot by any means understand him. arcadio's father, on hearing an exposition of the new theories, shrugs his shoulders and exclaims, "you turn everything inside out nowadays. god give you health and a general's position!" the physician, quite non-plussed, murmurs sadly, "i confess that i idolize my son, but i dare not tell him so, for he would be displeased;" and he adds with ridiculous pathos, "what comforts me most is to think that some day men will read in the biography of my son these lines: 'he was the son of an obscure regiment physician who nevertheless had the wisdom to discern his talents from the first, and spared no pains to give him an excellent education.' here the voice of the old man died away," says the writer. such details bespeak the great poet. again when bazarof is seized with typhus fever and dies, it is not his fate which affects us, but the grief of his old father and mother, who believe that one light of their country has been put out, and that they have lost the best treasure of their uncontaminated and tender old hearts. the death of this atheist makes an admirable page. when, as he is losing consciousness, extreme unction is administered to him, the shudder of horror that passes over his face at sight of the priest in his robes, the smoking incense, the candles burning before the images, is communicated to our own souls. from turguenief remained in france, bound by ties that shaped his course of life. he enjoyed there a reputation not inferior to that which he possessed in his own country; his works were all translated, and his soul was soothed by an almost fraternal intimacy with the greatest french writers, notably gustave flaubert and george sand; and yet his thoughts were never absent from his far-away fatherland, and as a reproof to his fruitless longings he wrote "smoke," which put the capital of russia almost in revolt. but turguenief was no bilious satirist after the style of gogol, much less a habitual vilifier of existing classes and institutions like tchedrine; on the contrary, he had a keen observation like alphonse daudet, and the sweeping artist-glance which takes in the moral weaknesses as well as physical deformities. the scene of "smoke" is laid in baden-baden, the resort of rich people who go there to enjoy themselves, to gossip, to intrigue, and to throw themselves aimlessly into the maelstrom of frivolous and idle life. the russian world passes rapidly before our eyes, and last of all the hero, weary and blasé, who with bitter words compares his country to the thin, feathery smoke that rises in the distance. everything in russia is smoke,--smoke, and nothing more! turguenief was one of those who loved his country well enough to tell her the truth, and to warn her--in an indirect and artistic manner, of course--persistently and incessantly. his was the jealous love of the master for the favorite pupil, of the confessor for the soul under his guidance, of the ardent patriot for his too backward and unambitious nation. turguenief compared himself, away from his country, to a dead fish kept sound in the snow, but spoiling in time of thaw. he said that in a strange land one lives isolated, without any real props or profound relation to anything whatever, and that he felt his own creative faculties decay for lack of inspiration from his native air; he complained of feeling the chill of old age upon him, and an incurable vacuity of soul. while he thus pined with homesickness, in russia his books wrought a wholesome change in criticism; the new generation turned its back upon him, and after a general scandal followed an oblivious silence, of the two perhaps the harder to bear. in the novel "virgin soil" appeared, first in french in the columns of "le temps," and then in russian. it dealt with the same ideas as "fathers and sons," save that the nihilism described in it was of the active rather than the speculative sort. it was said at the time that as turguenief had been fifteen years away from his own country, he was not capable of seeing the nihilist world in its true aspect, a thing to be felt rather than seen, difficult enough to describe near at hand, and much more difficult at a distance; but one must not expect of the novelist what would be impossible even to the political student. to us who are not too learned in revolutionary mysteries, turguenief's novel is delightful. i believe that there is more or less of political warmth in the judgments expressed upon this "virgin soil," and that if the book errs in any particular, it is on the side of the truthfulness of its representative and symbolic qualities. otherwise, how explain the fact that certain nihilists thought themselves personally portrayed in the character of the hero, or that turguenief was accused of having received notices and information provided by the police? yet it seems to me that this book, which gave such offence to the nihilists, shows a lively sympathy with them. all the revolutionary characters are grand, interesting, sincere, and poetic; on the other hand, the official world is made up of egoists, hypocrites, knaves, and fools. in reality, "virgin soil," like all the other writings of turguenief, is the product of a gentle and serene mind, independent of political bias, although both his artistic and his sclavonic nature weigh the balance in favor of the visionaries who represent the spirit rather than the letter. "virgin soil" was the last of turguenief's long novels. another russian novelist, isaac paulowsky, who knew him intimately, has given us some curious information concerning one he had in project, and which he believed would be found among his papers; but it has not yet come to light, and there remains only to speak of his short stories. perhaps his best claim to reputation and glory rests upon these admirable sketches; and it is zola's opinion that turguenief depreciated and wasted his proper talent when he left off making these fine cameo-like studies. perhaps this is true, as it is certainly undeniable that turguenief had a master touch in delicate work of this sort, and it suited his intensity of sentiment, his graceful style, and his skill in shading, which distinguish him above his contemporaries. of his short stories, his episodes of russian life, i know not which to select; they are filigree and jewels, wrought by the benvenuto of his trade; brass is gold in his hands, and his chisel excels at every point. but i must mention a few of the most important. "the knight of the steppes," in which the horse tells the story of the love and disappointment which leads his master to despair and suicide, is one of my favorites. the hero resembles taras boulba, perhaps, in his savage grandeur; he is a remnant of asiatic times, brave, proud, generous, uncultured; ruined, thirsting for battle, and perhaps for pillage, bloodshed, and violence. beside this i would put the first one in the collection translated and published under the title of "strange stories." it is a sketch of mysticism and religious mania peculiar, though not too common, to the russian temperament. sophia, a young girl at a ball, while dancing the mazurka with a stranger, speaks to him seriously concerning miracles, ghosts, the immortality of the soul, and the theory of quietism, and manifests a wish to mortify and subdue her nature and taste martyrdom; next day she carries out her desires by running away,--not with her partner in the dance, but with a demented fanatic, a man of the lowest condition, with whom she lives in chastity, and to whose infirmities she ministers like a mother, and serves him like a slave. such a picture could only have been conceived in a land that cradled the heroine of "the threshold," and many another enthusiastic nihilist girl who was ready to lay down her life for her ideals. the whole volume of "strange stories" fascinates us with a superstitious horror. elias teglevo, the hero of one of the best of these tales, although a pronounced sceptic, yet believes in the influence of his star, thinks he is predestined to a tragic death, and under this persuasion works himself into a state of mind and body that becomes a hallucination strong enough to lead to suicide, in obedience to what he considers a supernatural mandate. in another tale, "king lear of the steppes," the gigantic karlof has a presentiment of his death on seeing a black colt in his dreams. the great artist reproduced the souls of his characters with laudable fidelity. if supernatural terror is a real and genuine sentiment, the novel should not overlook it in its delineations of the truth. but perhaps the jewel of turguenief's narratives is that entitled "living relics." in this simple story he excels himself. the novel has no plot, and is nothing more than a silver lake which reflects a beautiful soul, calm and clear as the moon; and the crippled form of lukeria is only the pretext for the detention of such a soul in this world. who has not sometimes entered a convent church on leaving a ball-room,--in the early morning hours of ash-wednesday, for instance? the ears still echo the voluptuous and stirring sounds of the military band; one is ready to drop with fatigue, dizziness, glare of lights, and the unseasonable hour. but the church is dark and empty; the nuns in the choir are chanting the psalms; above the altar flickers a dim light, by whose aid one discerns a picture or a statue, though at a distance one cannot make out details of face or figure, only an expression of vague sweetness and mysterious peace. after a moment's contemplation of it, the body forgets its weariness and the soul is rocked in tranquillity. read some novel of the world's life, and then read "living relics": it is like going from the ball-room to the chapel of a convent. this faculty of putting the reader in contact with the invisible world is not the talent of turguenief exclusively, for all the great russian novelists possess it in some degree; but turguenief uses it with such exquisite tact and poetic charm that he seems to look serenely upon the strange psychical phenomenon he has produced in the soul of the reader, who is roused to a state of excitement that reflects the vision evoked by the artist's words. other instances of his power in this direction are "the dog," "apparitions," and "clara militch," a confession from beyond the tomb. the last page written by turguenief bore the title of "despair,"--the voice of the russian soul whose depths he had searched for forty years, says voguié. he was then laboring under an incurable disease, cancer of the brain, which, after causing him horrible sufferings, ended his life. but though worn-out, dying, and stupefied by doses of opium and injections of morphine, his artistic faculties died hard; and he related his dreams and hallucinations with wonderful vividness, only regretting his lack of strength to put them on paper. it is said that some of these feverish visions are preserved in his "prose poems," which are examples of the adaptability of turguenief's talent to miniature, condensed, bird's-eye pictures. like meissonier, turguenief saw the light upon small surfaces, enhanced rather than lessened in brilliancy. i will translate one of these prose-poems, so that the reader may see how turguenief cuts his medallions. this one is entitled "macha":-- "when i was living in st. petersburg, some time ago, i was in the habit of entering into conversation with the sleigh-driver, whenever i hired one. "i particularly liked to chat with those who were engaged at night,--poor peasants from the surrounding country, who came to town with their old-fashioned rattling vehicles, besmeared with yellow mud and drawn by one poor horse, to earn enough for bread and taxes. "on a certain day i called one of these to me. he was a lad of perhaps twenty years, strong and robust-looking, with blue eyes and red cheeks. ringlets of reddish hair escaped from under his patched cap, which was pressed down over his eyebrows, and a torn caftan, too small for him, barely covered his broad shoulders. "it seemed to me that this handsome, beardless young driver's face was sad and gloomy; we fell to chatting, and i noticed that his voice had a sorrowful tone. "why so sad, brother?' i asked. 'are you in trouble?' "at first he did not reply. "'yes, barino, i am in trouble,' he said at last,--'a trouble so great that there is no other like it,--my wife is dead.' "'by this i judge that you were very fond of her.' "the lad, without turning, nodded his head. "'barino, i loved her. it is now eight months, and i cannot get my thoughts away from her. there is something gnawing here at my heart continually. i do not understand why she died; she was young and healthy. in twenty-four hours she was carried off by the cholera.' "'and was she good?' "'ah, barino!' the poor fellow sighed deeply, 'we were such good friends! and she died while i was away. as soon as i heard up here that--that they had buried her--that very moment i started on foot to my village, to my home. i arrived; it was past midnight. i entered my _isba_; i stood still in the middle of it, and called very low, "macha, oh macha!" no answer,--nothing but the chirp of a cricket in a corner. then i burst into tears; i sat down on the ground and beat it with my hand, saying, "o thou greedy earth, thou hast swallowed her! thou must swallow me too! macha, oh macha!" i repeated hoarsely.' "without loosening his hold on the reins, he caught a falling tear on his leather glove, shook it off at one side, shrugged his shoulders, and said not another word. "on alighting from the sleigh i gave him a good fee; he bowed himself to the ground before me, taking off his cap with both hands, turned again to his sleigh, and started off at a weary trot down the frozen and deserted street, which was fast filling with a cold, gray, january fog." is it a mistake to say that in this commonplace little episode there is more of poetry than in many elegies and innumerable sonnets? i believe there is no spanish or french writer who would know how to gather up and thread like a pearl the tear of a common coachman. there is something in the latin character that makes us hard toward the lower classes and the vulgar professions. like many another author, turguenief was not a good judge of his own merits, and gave great importance to his longer novels in preference to his admirable shorter ones, in which he scarcely has a rival. he had great expectations of "smoke," and the dislike it met with in russia surprised him painfully. so keen was his disappointment that he determined to write no more original novels, but devote himself to his early cherished plan of translating "don quixote." he also suffered in one way like most souls who hang upon the lips of public opinion,--the slightest censure hurt him like a mortal wound. the cordial and enthusiastic reception which, in spite of past indignation, he was accorded in russia in , and the homage and attentions of the students of moscow, renewed his courage and reanimated his soul.... but his strong constitution failed him at last, and his physical and mental abilities weakened. "the saddest thing that has happened to me," he said to paulowsky, "is that i take no more pleasure in my work. i used to love literary labor, as one loves to caress a woman; now i detest it. i have many plans in my head, but i can do nothing at all with them." but after all, what posthumous work of turguenief would bear with a deeper meaning on his literary life than the admirable words of his letter to count léon tolstoï:-- "it is time i wrote you; for, be it said without the least exaggeration, i have been, i am, on my death-bed. i have no false hopes. i know there is no cure. let this serve to tell you that i rejoice to have been your contemporary, and to make of you one supreme last request to which you must not turn a deaf ear. go back, dear friend, to your literary work. the gift you have is from above, whence comes every good gift we possess. how happy i should be if i could believe that my entreaty would have the effect i desire! "as for myself, i am a drowning man. the physicians have not come to any conclusion about my disease. they say it may be gouty neuralgia of the stomach. i cannot walk, nor eat, nor sleep; but it would be tiresome to enter into details. my friend, great and beloved writer in russian lands, hear my prayer. with these few lines receive a warm embrace for yourself, your wife, and all your family. i can write no more. i am tired." this pathetic document contains the essence of the writer's life, the synthesis of a soul that loved art above all things else, and believed that of the three divine attributes, truth, goodness, and beauty, the last is the one especially revealed to the artist, and the one it is his especial duty to show forth; and that he who allows his sacred flame to go out, commits a sin which is great in proportion to his talents, and a sin incalculable when commensurate with the genius of tolstoï. turguenief is the supreme type of the artist, for he had the tranquillity and equipoise of soul, the bright serenity, and the æsthetic sensibility which should distinguish it. according to able critics, such as taine, turguenief was one of the most artistic natures that has been born among men since classic times. those who can read his works in the russian sing marvellous praises of his style, and even through the haze of translation we are caught by its charms. let me quote some lines of melchior de voguié: "turguenief's periods flow on with a voluptuous languor, like the broad expanse of the russian rivers beneath the shadows of the trees athwart them, slipping melodiously between the reeds and rushes, laden with floating blossoms and fallen bird's-nests, perfumed by wandering odors, reflecting sky and landscape, or suddenly darkened by a lowering cloud. it catches all, and gives each a place; and its melody is blended with the hum of bees, the cawing of the crows, and the sighing of the breeze. the most fugitive sounds of nature's great organ he can echo in the infinite variety of the tones of the russian speech,--flexible and comprehensive epithets, words strung together to please a poet's fancy, and bold popular sallies." such is the effect produced by a thorough reading of turguenief's works; it is a symphony, a sweet and solemn music like the sounds of the forest. turguenief is, without exaggeration, the best word-painter of landscape that ever wrote. his descriptions are neither very long nor very highly colored; there is a charming sobriety about them that reminds one of the saving strokes with which the skilful painter puts life into his trees and skies without stopping over the careful delineation of leaf and cloud after the manner of the japanese. the details are not visible, but felt. he rarely lays stress on minor points; but if he does so, it is with the same sense of congruity that a great composer reiterates a motive in music. turguenief's enemies make ground of this very dexterity, which is displayed in all his works, for denying him originality,--as though originality must need be independent of the eternal laws of proportion and harmony which are the natural measures of beauty. ernest renan pronounced quite another opinion, however, when, according to the custom of the french, he delivered a discourse over the tomb that was about to receive the mortal remains of turguenief, on the st of october, . he said that turguenief was not the conscience of one individual, but in a certain sense that of a whole people,--the incarnation of a race, the voice of past generations that slept the sleep of ages until he evoked them. for the multitude is silent, and the poet or the prophet must serve as its interpreter; and turguenief holds this attitude to the great sclavonic race, whose entrance upon the world's stage is the most astounding event of our century. divided by its own magnitude, the sclav race is united in the great soul and the conciliatory spirit of turguenief, genius having accomplished in a day that which time could not do in ages. he has created an atmosphere of beautiful peace, wherein those who fought as mortal enemies may meet and clasp each other by the hand. it was just this impartiality and universality, which renan praises so highly, that alienated from turguenief many of his contemporaries and compatriots. where ideas are at war, whoever takes a neutral position makes himself the enemy to both parties. turguenief knew this, and he used sometimes to say, on hearing the bitter judgments passed upon him, "let them do what they like: my soul is not in their hands." not only the revolutionaries took it ill that he did not explicitly cast his adhesion with them, but the country at large, whose national pride spurned foreign civilization, was offended at the candor and realism of his observations. and turguenief, though russian every inch of him, loved latin culture, and had developed and perfected by association with french writers, such as prosper mérimée and gustave flaubert, those qualities of precision, clearness, and skill in composition, which distinguish him above all his countrymen; yet this was a serious offence to the most of these latter. among modern french novelists, those who, to my mind, most resemble turguenief in the nature of their talents, are, first, daudet, for intensity of emotion and richness of design, and then the brothers goncourt in some, though not very many, pages. yet there is a notable difference in all. daudet is less the epic poet than turguenief, because he devotes himself to the study of certain special aspects of parisian fife, while turguenief takes in the whole physiognomy of his immense country. from the laboring peasants and the nihilist students to the generals and government clerks, he depicts every condition,--except the highest society, which has been reserved for léon tolstoï. and everything is vivid, interesting, fascinating,--the poor paralytic of "living relics," as well as the courageous heroine of "virgin soil,"--everything is real as well as poetical. truth and poetry are united in him as closely as soul and body. though he is an indefatigable observer, he never tires the reader; his heart overflowed with sentiment, yet his good taste never permitted him to utter a false note either of brutality or cant; he was a most eloquent advocate of emancipation, moderation, and peace, yet no diatribe of either a social or political character ever ruffled the celestial calm of his muse. puchkine and turguenief are, to my mind, the two russian spirits worthy to be called _classic_. those who knew him and associated with him speak of his goodness as one speaks of a mountain's height when gazing upward from its foot. voguié calls him a heavenly soul, one of the poor in spirit burning with the fire of inspiration, one who seemed, amid the hard and selfish world, the vain and jealous world of french letters, a visionary with gaze distraught and heart unsullied, a member of some shepherd tribe or patriarchal family. every russian that arrived penniless in paris went straight to his house for protection and assistance. [ ] this work is better known to american readers in a translation entitled "lisa."--tr. ii. gontcharof and oblomovism. the rival and competitor of turguenief--not in europe, but in russia--was a novelist of whom i must say something at least, though i do not consider that he holds a place among the great masters; i mean gontcharof. this author's talents were fostered under the influence of the famous critic bielinsky, who professed and taught the principles promulgated by gogol,--demanded that art should be a faithful representation of life, and its principal object the study of the people. ivan gontcharof was not of the nobility, like turguenief, but came of a family of traders, and was born in the critical year of . his life was humble and laborious; he was a tutor, and then a government employee, and made a tour of the world aboard the frigate "pallas." he began his literary career in the middle of that most glorious decade for russian letters known as "the forties." his first novel, entitled "a vulgar history," attracted public attention, and it is said that a secret notice from the imperial censor in consequence was the cause of the long silence of twelve years which the author maintained until the time when he wrote "oblomof," which is, to my mind, one of the most pleasing and characteristic russian novels. i must admit that i am acquainted with only the first volume of it, for the simple reason that it is the only one translated; and i must add that this volume begins with the moment when the hero awakes from sleep, and ends with his resolve to get up and dress and go out into the street! yet this odd little volume has an indescribable charm, an intensity of feeling which takes the place of action, and incidents as easily invented by the idealist as observed by the realist. in these days the art of story-telling has undergone a great change; the hero no longer keeps a dagger, a cup of poison, rope-ladders, and rivals at hand, but he runs to the other extreme, not less trivial and puerile perhaps, of exaggerating small incidents that are uninteresting, and irrelevant to the subject or the essential thought of the work from an artistic point of view. but in "oblomof," whose hero does nothing but lie still in bed, there is not a detail or a line that is superfluous to the harmonious effect of the whole. of course i can only speak of the one volume i have read. one may imagine that the author would like to portray the state of enervation and disorganization to which the essence of autocratic despotism had brought russian society; or perhaps it is one aspect of the russian soul, the dreamy indolence and insuperable apathy of the body, which weighs down the active work of the imagination. it is only a study of a psychical condition, yet what intense life throbs in its pages! perhaps this admirable and original novel was not translated in its entirety for fear of offending french taste, which demands more excitement, and could not stand a long analytical narrative full of detail, mere intellectual filigree. turguenief was undeniably a greater artist than his rival; but he never attained to the precision, lucidity, and singular strength of "oblomof" in any of his novels. as the character of the hero was drawn to the life, the nation recognized it at once, and the word _oblomovism_ became incorporated into the language, implying the typical indolence of the sclav. on some accounts i find turguenief's "living relics" more comparable to this novel than any others of his. both present one single phase or state of the soul; both are purely psychological studies; the chief character of both does not change position, the position in which he has been fixed by the will of the novelist,--i had almost said the dissecting surgeon. "oblomof" is in reality a type of the sclav who chases the butterfly of his dreams through the still air. study he regards, from his pessimist point of view, as useless, because it will not lead him to earthly happiness; and yet his soul is full of poetry and his heart of tenderness; he reaches out toward illimitable horizons, and his imagination is hard at work, but all his other faculties are asleep. iii. dostoiëwsky, psychologist and visionary. now let us turn to that visionary novelist whom voguié introduces to his readers in these words: "here comes the scythian, the true scythian, who puts off the habiliments of our modern intellect, and leads us by the hand to the centre of moscow, to the monstrous cathedral of st. basil, wrought and painted like a chinese pagoda, built by tartar architects, and yet consecrated to the god whom the christians adore. dostoiëwsky was educated at the same school, led by the same current of thought, and made his first appearance in the same year as turguenief and tolstoï; but the latter are opposite poles, and have but one ground in common, which is the sympathy for humanity, which was incarnate and expanded in dostoiëwsky to the highest degree of piety, to pious despair, if such a phrase is possible." dostoiëwsky is really the barbarian, the primitive type, whose heart-strings still reverberate certain motive tones of the russian soul that were incompatible with the harmonious and tranquil spirit of turguenief. dostoiëwsky has the feverish, unreasoning, abnormal psychological intensity of the cultivated minds of his country. let no one of tender heart and weak nerves read his books; and those who cling to classic serenity, harmony, and brightness should not so much as touch them. he leads us into a new region of æsthetics, where the horrible is beautiful, despair is consoling, and the ignoble has a halo of sublimity: where guilty women teach gospel truths, and men are regenerated by crimes; where the prison is the school of compassion, and fetters are a poetic element. much against our will we are forced to admire a novelist whose pages almost excite to assassination and nightmare horrors, this russian dante who will not allow us to omit a single circle of the inferno. feodor, son of michael dostoiëwsky, was born in moscow in , in a hospital at which his father was a medical attendant. there is frequently a strange connection between the environment of great writers and the development and direction of their genius, not always evident to the general public, but apparent to the careful critic; in dostoiëwsky's case it seems plain enough to all, however. his family belonged to the country gentlefolk from whom the class of government employees are drawn; feodor, with his brother alexis, whom he dearly loved, entered the school of military engineers, though his tastes were rather for belles-lettres and the humanities than for dry and unartistic details. his literary education was therefore reduced to fitful readings of balzac, eugene sue, george sand, and especially of gogol, whose works first inspired him with tenderness toward the humble, the outcast, and the miserable. shortly after leaving college he abandoned his career for a literary life, and began the usual struggle with the difficulties of a young writer's precarious condition. the struggle lasted almost to the end of his life; for forty years he was never sure of any other than prison bread. proud and suspicious by nature, the humiliations and bitterness of poverty must have contributed largely to unsettle his nerves, disconcert his mind, and undermine his health, which was so precarious that he used sometimes to leave on his table before going to sleep a paper with the words: "i may fall into a state of insensibility to-night; do not bury me until some days have passed." he was sometimes afflicted with epilepsy, cruelly aggravated later in siberia under the lashes laid upon his bleeding shoulders. like one of his own heroes he dreamed of fame; and without having read or shown his manuscripts to any one, alone with his chimeras and vagaries, he passed whole nights in imaginary intercourse with the characters he created, loving them as though they had been his relatives or his friends, and weeping over their misfortunes as though they had been real. these were hours of pure emotion, ideal love, which every true artist experiences some time in his life. dostoiëwsky was hen twenty-three years old. one day he begged a friend to take a few chapters of his first novel called "the poor people" to the popular poet nekrasof; his friend did so, and in the early hours of the morning the famous poet called at the door of the unknown writer and clasped him in his arms under the excitement of the emotion caused by perusal of the story. nekrasof did not remit his attentions; he at once sought the dreaded critic bielinsky, the intellectual chief and lawgiver of the glorious company of writers to which turguenief, tolstoï, and gontcharof belonged, the russian lessing, who died of consumption at the age of thirty-eight years, just when others are beginning to acquire discernment and tranquillity,--the great bielinsky, who had formed two generations of great artists and pushed forward the national literature to a complete development. a man in his position, more prone to meet with the sham than the genuine in art, would naturally be not over-delighted to receive people armed with rolls of manuscript. when nekrasof entered his room exclaiming, "a new gogol is born to us!" the critic replied in a bad humor, "gogols are born nowadays as easily as mushrooms in a cellar." but when the author came in a tremor to learn the dictum of the judge, the latter cried out impetuously, "young man, do you understand how much truth there is in what you have written? no, for you are scarcely more than twenty years old, and it is impossible that you should understand. it is a revelation of art, a gift of heaven. respect this gift, and you will be a great writer!" the success achieved by this novel on its publication in the columns of a review did not belie bielinsky's prophecy. it is easy to understand the surprise of the critic on reading this work of a scarcely grown man, who yet seemed to have observed life with a vivid and deep sense of realism, and an unequivocal minuteness that is generally learned only through the bitter experience of prosaic sufferings, and comes forth after the illusions and vague sentimentalities of youth have been dispelled and practical life has begun. i said once, and i repeat it, that a true artist under twenty-five would be a marvel; dostoiëwsky was indeed such a marvel. this first novel was the humble drama of two lonely souls, wounded and ground down by poverty, but not spoiled by it; a case such as one might meet with on turning the very next corner, and never think worthy of attention or study, and which, even in the midst of modern currents of thought, the novelist is quite likely to pass by. yet the book is a work of art,--of the new and the old art compounded, classic art infused with the new warm blood of truth. this work of dostoiëwsky, this touching, tearful story, had a model in gogol's "the cloak," but it goes beyond the latter in energy and depth of sadness. if dostoiëwsky ever invoked a muse, it must have been the muse of hypochondria. it was not likely that dostoiëwsky would escape the political fatality which pursued the generality of russian writers. during those memorable _forties_ the students were wont to meet more or less secretly for the purpose of reading and discussing fourier, louis blanc, and proudhon. about these circles began to expand, and to admit public and military men; they were moved by one desire, and what began as an intellectual effervescence ended in a conspiracy. dostoiëwsky was good material for any revolutionary cabal, being easily disposed thereto by his natural enmity to society, his continuous poverty, his nervous excitement, his utopian dreams, and his inordinate and fanatical compassion for the outcast classes. the occasion was ill-timed, and the hour a dangerous one, being just at the time of the french outbreak, which seemed a menace to every throne in europe. the police got wind of it, and on the rd of april, , thirty-four suspected persons were arrested, the brothers feodor and alexis dostoiëwsky among them. the novelist was thrown into a dungeon of the citadel, and when at last he came forth, it was to mount the scaffold in a public square with some of his companions. they stood there in shirt-sleeves, in an intense cold, expecting at first only to hear read the sentence of the council of war. while they waited, dostoiëwsky began to relate to a friend the plan of a new novel he had been thinking about in prison; but he suddenly exclaimed, as he heard the officer's voice, "is it possible we are to be executed?" his friend pointed to a car-load of objects which, though covered with a cloth, were shaped much like coffins. the suspicion was soon confirmed; the prisoners were all tied to posts, and the soldiers formed in line ready to fire. suddenly, as the order was about to be given, word arrived from the emperor commuting the death-sentence to exile to siberia. the prisoners were untied. one of them had lost his reason. dostoiëwsky and the others then set out upon their sad journey; on arriving at tobolsk they were each shaved, laden with chains, and sent to a different station. during this painful experience a pathetic incident occurred which engraved itself indelibly upon the mind of the novelist, and is said to have largely influenced his works. the wives of the "decembrists" (conspirators of twenty-five years before), most of them women of high rank who had voluntarily exiled themselves in order to accompany their husbands, came to visit in prison the new generation of exiles, and having nothing of material value to offer them, they gave each one a copy of the gospels. during his four years of imprisonment, dostoiëwsky never slept without this book under his pillow; he read it incessantly, and taught his more ignorant fellow-prisoners to read it also. he now found himself among outcasts and convicts, and his ears were filled with the sounds of unknown languages and dialects, and speech which, when understood, was profane and abhorrent, and mixed with yells and curses more dreadful than all complaints. what horrible martyrdom for a man of talent and literary vocation,--reckoned with evil-doers, compelled to grind gypsum, and deprived of every means of satisfying the hunger and activity of his mind! why did he not go mad? some may answer, because he was that already,--and perhaps they would not be far wrong; for no writer in russia, not excepting even gogol and tolstoï, so closely approaches the mysterious dividing line, thin as a hair, which separates insanity and genius. the least that can be said is, that if dostoiëwsky was not subject to mental aberration from childhood, he had a violent form of neurosis. he was a bundle of nerves, a harp with strings too tense; he was a victim of epilepsy and hallucinations, and the results are apparent in his life and in his books. but it is a strange fact that he himself said that had it not been for the terrible trials he endured, for the sufferings of the prison and the scaffold, he certainly _would have gone mad_, and he believed that these experiences fortified his mind; for, the year previous to his captivity, he declared that he suffered a terrible temptation of the devil, was a victim to chimerical infirmities, and overwhelmed with an inexplicable terror which he calls _mystic fear_, and thus describes in one of his novels: "on the approach of twilight i was attacked by a state of soul which frequently comes upon me in the night; i will call it _mystic fear_. it is an overwhelming terror of _something_ which i can neither define nor imagine, which has no existence in the natural order of things, but which i feel may at any moment become real, and appear before me as an inexorable and horrible _thing_." it seems then quite possible that the writer was cured of his imaginary ills by real ones. i have remarked that gogol's "dead souls" reminded me of "don quixote" more than any book i know; let me add that the book inspired by the prison-life of dostoiëwsky--"the dead house"--reminds me most strongly of dante's inferno. there is no exact likeness or affinity of literary style; for "the dead house" is not a poem, but a plain tale of the sufferings of a few prisoners in a miserable siberian fort. and yet it is certainly _dantesque_. instead of the laurel-crowned poet in scholar's gown, led by the bright genius of antiquity, we see the wistful-eyed, tearful sclav, his compressed lips, his attitude of resignation,--and in his hands a copy of the gospels; but the florentine and the russian manifest the same melancholy energy, use the same burin to trace their burning words on plates of bronze, and unite a prophetic vision with a brutal realism of miserable and sinful humanity. "the dead house" also has the merit of being perhaps the most profound study written in europe upon the penitentiary system and criminal physiology; it is a more powerful teacher of jurists and legislators than all didactic treatises. dostoiëwsky shows especially, and with implacable clearness, the effect produced on the minds of the prisoners by the cruel penalty of the lash. the complacency of narration, the elaborateness of detail, the microscopic precision with which he notes every phase of this torture, inflict positive pain upon the nervous system of the reader. it is fascinating, it is the refinement of barbarism, but it was also a work of charity, for it finally brought about the abolition of that kind of punishment, and wiped out a foul stain upon the russian code. it makes one turn cold and shudder to read those pages which describe this torture,--so calmly and carefully related without one exclamation of pity or comment, and even sometimes painfully humorous. the trepidation of the condemned for days before it is inflicted, his frenzy after it is over, his subterfuges to avoid it, the blind fury with which sometimes he yields to it, throwing himself under the painful blows as a despairing man throws himself into the sea,--these are word-pictures never to be forgotten. voguié makes a striking comparison of the different fates awarded to certain books, and says that while "my prisons," by silvio pellico, went all over the world, this autobiographical fragment by dostoiëwsky was unknown to europe until very recently; yet it is far superior in sincerity and energy to that of the italian prisoner. the most interesting and moving stories of captivity that i know of are russian, and chief among them i would mention "memories of a nihilist," by paulowsky. the tone of resignation, of melancholy simplicity, in all these tales, however, is sure to touch all hearts. i will not quote a line from "the dead house;" it must be read, attentively and patiently, and, like most russian books, it has not the merit of brevity. but the style is so shorn of artifice and rhetorical pretension, and the story runs along so unaffectedly, that i cannot select any one page as an example of excellence; for the excellence of the book depends on the whole,--on the accumulated force of observation, on the complete aspect of a soul that feels deeply and sees clearly,--and we must not break the icy ring of siberian winter which encloses it. it is enhanced by the apparent serenity of the writer, by his sweetness, his half-christian, half-buddhist resignation. with the gospels in his hand, dostoiëwsky at last leaves his house of pain, without rancor or hatred or choleric protests; more than this, he leaves it declaring that the trial has been beneficial to him, that it has regenerated body and soul; that in prison he has learned to love the brethren, and to find the spark of goodness and truth lighted by god's hand even in the souls of reprobates and criminals; to know the charity that passes understanding and the pity that is foolishness to the wise; he has learned, in fact, _to love_,--the only learning that can redeem the condemned. although he had been (at the time of writing this) four years released from prison, he delayed still six years longer before returning to europe to publish his works. when he began his labors for the press, he did not unite himself to the liberal party, but, erratic as usual, he turned to the sclavophiles,--the blind lovers of old usages and customs, the bitter enemies of the civilization of the occident. fate was not yet weary in persecuting him. after the death of his wife and brother he was obliged to flee the country on account of his creditors. his sorrows were not exactly of the sublime nature of puchkine's and the melancholy poet's; they were on the contrary very prosaic,--lack of money, combined with terrible fits of epilepsy. to understand the mortifications of poverty to a proud and sensitive man, one must read dostoiëwsky's correspondence,--so like balzac's in its incessant complaints against pecuniary affairs. he exclaims, "the details of my poverty are shameful. i cannot relate them. sometimes i spend the whole night walking my room like a caged beast, tearing my hair in despair. i must have such or such a sum to-morrow, without fail!" gloomy and ill, he wandered through germany, france, and italy, caring nothing for the wonders of civilization, and impressed by no sights except the guillotine. he wrote during this time his three principal novels, whose very names are nightmares,--"possessed with devils," "the idiot," and "crime and punishment." i know by experience the diabolical power of dostoiëwsky's psychological analysis. his books make one ill, although one appear to be well. no wonder that they exercise a perturbing influence on russian imaginations, which are only too prone to hallucination and mental ecstasy. i will briefly mention his best and most widely known book, "crime and punishment," of which the following is the argument: a student commits a crime, and then voluntarily confesses it to the magistrate. this seems neither more nor less than an ordinary notice in the newspaper, but what an analysis is conveyed by means of it! it is horrible to think that the sentiments so studiously wrought out can be human, and that we all carry the germs of them hidden in some corner of the soul; and not only human, but possessed even by a person of great intellectual culture, like the hero, whose crime is the result of great reading reduced to horrible sophisms. those two parisian students who, after saturating their minds with darwin and haeckel, cut a woman to pieces with their histories, must have been prototypes of rodion romanovitch, the hero of this novel of dostoiëwsky. this young man is not only clever, but possesses really refined sentiments; one of the motives that lead to his crime is that one of his sisters, the most dearly loved, may have to marry an unworthy man in order to insure the welfare of the family. such a _sale_ as this poor girl's marriage would be seems to the student a greater wrong than the assassination of the old money-lender. the first seed of the crime falls upon his soul on overhearing at a wine-shop a dialogue between another student and an officer. "here you have on the one hand," says the student, "an old woman, sick, stupid, wicked, useful to nobody, and only doing harm to all the world about her, who does not know what she lives for, and who, when you least expect it, will die a natural death; you have on the other hand a young creature whose strength is being wasted for lack of sustenance, a hundred lives that might be guided into a right path, dozens of families that might be saved from destitution, dissolution, ruin, and vice if that old woman's money were only available. if somebody were to kill her and use her fortune for the good of humanity, do you not think that a thousand good deeds would compensate for the crime? it is a mathematical question. what weight has a stupid, evil-minded old shrew in the social scale? about as much as a bed-bug." "without doubt," replies the officer, "the old woman does not deserve to live. but--what can you do? nature--" "my friend," the other replies, "nature can be corrected and amended. if it were not so we should all be buried to the neck in prejudices, and there would not be a great man amongst us." this atrocious ratiocination takes hold upon rodion's mind, and he carries it out to terribly logical consequences. napoleon sacrificed thousands of men on the altar of his genius; why had he not the right to sacrifice one ridiculous old woman to his own great needs? the ordinary man must not infringe the law; but the extraordinary man may authorize his conscience to do away with certain obstacles in his path. it has been said that dostoiëwsky's talents were influenced in some measure by the fascinating personality of edgar poe. the analogies are apparent; but the author of "the gold beetle," with all his suggestive intensity and his feverish imagination, never achieved any such tremendous psychological analyses as those of "crime and punishment." it is impossible to select an example from it; every page is full of it. the temptation that precedes the assassination, the horrible moment of committing it, the manner of disposing of the traces of it, the agonizing terror of being discovered, the instinct which leads him back to the scene of the crime with no motive but to yield to a desire as irresistible as inexplicable, his fearful visit to the place where he lives over again the moment when he plunged the knife into the old woman's skull,--examining all the furniture, laying his hand upon the bell again, with a fiendish enjoyment of the sound of it, and looking again for the marks of blood on the floor,--it is too well done; it makes one excited, nervous, and ill. "is this beautiful?" some will ask. all that dostoiëwsky has written bears the same character; it wrings the soul, perverts the imagination, overturns one's ideas of right and wrong to an incredible degree. sometimes one is lost in abysms of gloomy uncertainty, like hamlet; again one sees the struggle of the evil genius against providence, like faust, or a soul lacerated by remorse like macbeth; and all his heroes are fools, madmen, maniacs, and philosophers of hypochondria and desperation. and yet i say that this is beauty,--tortured, twisted, satanic, but intense, grand, and powerful. dostoiëwsky's are bad books to read during digestion, or on going to bed at night, when every dim object takes an unusual shape, and every breath stirs the window curtains; they are not good books to take to the country, where one sits under the spreading trees with a fresh and fragrant breeze and a soul expanded with contentment, and one thanks god only to be alive. but they are splendid books for the thinker who devours them with reflective attention,--his brow furrowed under the light of the student-lamp, and feeling all around him the stir and excitement of a great city like paris or st. petersburg. but there is a drop of balm in the cup of absinthe to which we may liken dostoiëwsky's books; it is the christianity which appears in them when and where its consoling presence is least expected. face to face with the student who becomes a criminal through pride and injudicious reading, we see the figure of a pure, modest, pious girl, who redeems him by her love. this unfortunate girl is a flower that fades before its time; it is she who, being sacrificed to provide bread for her family, comes in time to convince the criminal of his sin, enlightens his mind with the lamp of the gospels, and brings him to repentance, resignation, and the joy of regeneration, in the expiation of his crime by chastisement and the dungeon. there is one marked difference between "crime and punishment" and "the dead house." the novel is feverish, the autobiography is calm. dostoiëwsky is a madman who owes his lucid intervals to tribulations and torture. suffering clears his mind and alleviates his pain; tears sweeten his bitterness, and sorrow is his supreme religion; like his student hero, he prostrates himself before human suffering. the best way of taking the measure of dostoiëwsky's personality is to compare him with his competitor and rival, and perhaps his enemy, ivan turguenief. there could be no greater contrast. turguenief is above all an artist, almost classic in his serenity, master of the arts of form, delicate, refined, exquisite, a perfect scene-painter, an always interesting narrator, reasonable and temperately liberal in his opinions, optimist, or, if i may be allowed the word, olympic, to the extent that he could boast of being able to die tranquilly because he had enjoyed all that was truly beautiful in life. dostoiëwsky is a rabid psychologist, almost an enemy to nature and the sensuous world, a furious and implacable painter of prisons, hospitals, public houses and by-streets of great cities, awkward in his style, taking only a one-sided view of character, a revolutionary and yet a reactionary in politics, and not only adverse to every sort of paganism, but hazily mystical,--the apostle of redemption through suffering, and of the compassion which seeks wounds to cure with its healing lips. their two lives are correlative to their characters,--turguenief in the occident, famous and fortunate; dostoiëwsky in the orient, a barbarian, the plaything of destiny, fighting with poverty shoulder to shoulder. it was only natural that sooner or later the two novelists should know each other as enemies. it is sad to relate that dostoiëwsky attacked turguenief in so furious a manner that it can only be attributed to envy and malice. in his own country, however, and in respect to his popularity and influence with young people, the author of "crime and punishment" ranked higher than the author of "virgin soil." just in proportion as turguenief was attractive to us in the west, dostoiëwsky fascinated the people of his country. "crime and punishment" was an event in russia. dostoiëwsky had the honor--if honor it may be called--of dealing a blow upon the soul of his compatriots, and on this account, as he himself used sometimes to say, especially after his epileptic attacks, he felt himself to be a great criminal, and the guilt of a villanous act weighed upon his soul; and it happened that a certain student, after reading his book, thought himself possessed by the same impulses as the hero, and committed a murder with the same circumstances and details. after writing "crime and punishment," dostoiëwsky's talent declined; his defects became more marked, his psychology more and more involved and painful, his heroes more insensate, lunatic, epileptic, and overwrought, absorbed in inexplicable contemplations, or wandering, rapt in delirious dreams, through the streets. his novels are, in fact, the antechamber to the madhouse. but we may once more notice the influence of cervantes on russian minds; for the most important character created by dostoiëwsky, after the hero of "crime and punishment," is a type, imitated after quixote, in "the idiot,"--a righter of wrongs, a fool, or rather a sublime innocent. as much as dostoiëwsky excels in originality, he lacks in rhythm and harmony. his way of looking at the world is the way of the fever-stricken. no one has carried realism so far; but his may be called a mystic realism. neither he nor his heroes belong to our light-loving race or our temperate civilization; they are the outcome of russian exuberance, to us almost incomprehensible. he is at one moment an apostle, at another a maniac, now a philosopher, then a fanatic. voguié, in describing his physiognomy, says: "never have i seen in any other face such an expression of accumulated suffering; all the agonies of flesh and spirit were stamped upon it; one read in it, better than in any book, the recollection of the prison, the long habits of terror, torture, and anguish. when he was angry, one seemed to see him in the prisoner's dock. at other times his countenance had the sad meekness of the aged saints in russian sacred pictures." in his last years dostoiëwsky was the idol of the youth of russia, who not only awaited his novels most eagerly, but ran to consult him as they would a spiritual director, entreating his advice or consolation. the prestige of turguenief was for the moment eclipsed. tolstoï found his audience chiefly among _the intelligence_, and dostoiëwsky of the lacerated heart was the object of the love and devotion of the new generation. when the monument to puchkine was unveiled, in , the popularity of dostoiëwsky was at its height; when he spoke, the people sobbed in sympathy; they carried him in triumph; the students assaulted the drawing-rooms that they might see him near by, and one even fainted with ecstasy on touching him. he died, february , , almost crazed with patriotic love and enthusiasm, like gogol. the multitudes fought for the flowers that were strewn over his grave, as precious relics. his obsequies were an imposing manifestation. in a land without liberty this novelist was the messiah of the new generations. iv. tolstoï, nihilist and mystic. the youngest of the four great russian novelists, the only one living to-day, and in general opinion the most excellent, is léon, son of nicholas count tolstoï. his biography may be put into a few lines; it has no element of the dramatic or curious. he was born in ; he was brought up, like most russian noblemen of his class, in the country, on his patrimonial estates; he pursued his studies at the university of kazan, receiving the cosmopolitan education--half french, half german--which is the nursery of the russian aristocracy; he entered the military career, spent some years in the caucasus attached to a regiment of artillery, was transferred to sevastopol at his own desire, and witnessed there the memorable siege, the heroes of which he has immortalized in three of his volumes; on the conclusion of the peace he dedicated some time to travel; he resided by turns at both russian capitals, frequenting the best society, his congenial atmosphere, yet without being captivated by it; he finally renounced the life of the world, married in , and retired to his possessions near toula, where he has lived in his own way for twenty-five years or more, and where to-day the famous novelist, the gentleman, the scholar, the sceptic,--after falling like saul on the road to damascus, blinded by a heavenly vision, and being converted, as he himself says,--shows himself, to all who go to visit him, dressed in peasant's garb, swinging the scythe or drawing the sickle. the more important biography of count tolstoï is that which pertains to his soul, always restless, always in pursuit of absolute truth and the divine essence,--a noble aspiration which ameliorates even error. there is no book of tolstoï's but reveals himself, particularly so the autobiography entitled "my memories," and certain passages of his novels, and lastly, his theologico-moral works. tolstoï belongs to the class of souls that without god lose their hold on life; and yet, by his own confession, the novelist lived without any sort of faith or creed from his youth to maturity. ever since the time when tolstoï saw the dreams of his childhood vanish,--began to think for himself, and to experience the religious crisis which usually arrives between the ages of fifteen and twenty-five,--his soul, like a storm-tossed bark, has oscillated between pantheism and the blackest pessimism. what depths of despair a soul like that of tolstoï can know, unable to rest upon the pillow of doubt, when it abnegates the noblest of human faculties,--thought and intelligence,--and makes choice of a merely vegetative life in preference to that of the rational being! lost in the gloom of this dark wilderness, he falls into the region of absolute nihilism. he admits this in his confessions ("my religion") when he says: "for thirty-five years of my life i have been a nihilist in the rigorous acceptation of the term; that is to say, not merely a revolutionary socialist, but a man who believes in nothing whatever." in fact, since the age of sixteen, as we read in his "memoirs," his mind summoned to judgment all accepted and consecrated doctrines and philosophical opinions, and that which most suited the boy was scepticism, or rather a sort of transcendental egoism; he allows himself to think that nothing exists in the world but himself; that exterior objects are vain apparitions, no longer real to his mind; impressed and persuaded by this fixed idea, he believes he sees, materially, behind and all around him, the abyss of nothingness, and under the effect of this hallucination he falls into a state of mind that might be called truly motor madness, though it was transitory and momentary,--a state proper to the visionary peoples of the north, and to which they give an involved appellation difficult to pronounce; to translate it exactly, with all its shades of signification, i should have to mix and mingle together many words of ours, such as despair, fatalism, asceticism, intractability, brief delirium, lunacy, mania, hypochondria, and frenzy,--a species of dementia, in fine, which, snapping the mainspring of human will, induces inexplicable acts, such as throwing one's self into an abyss, setting fire to a house for the pleasure of it, holding the muzzle of a pistol to one's forehead and thinking, "shall i pull the trigger?" or, on seeing a person of distinction, to pull him by the nose and shake him like a child. this momentary but real dementia--from which nobody is perhaps entirely exempt, and which shakespeare has so admirably analyzed in some scenes of "hamlet"--is to the individual what panic is to the multitude, or like _epidemia chorea_, or a suicidal monomania which sometimes seems to be in the air; its origin lies deep in the mysterious recesses of our moral being, where other strange psychical phenomena are hidden, such as, for example, the fascination of seeing blood flow, and the innate love of destruction and death. but let us turn to the real literary work of tolstoï before referring to the actual cause of his perturbed conscience. after the beautiful story called "the cossacks," he prepared himself, by other short novels, for works of larger importance. among the former should be mentioned the sweet story of "katia," which already reveals the profound reader of the human heart and the great realist writer. for tolstoï, who knows how to cover vast canvases with vivid colors, is no less successful in small pictures; and his short novels, "the death of ivan illitch" and the first part of "the horse's romance," for example, are hardly to be excelled. but his fame was chiefly assured by two great works,--"war and peace" and "anna karénina." the former is a sort of cosmorama of russian society before and during the french invasion, a series of pictures that might be called russian national episodes. like our own galdos, tolstoï studied the formative epoch of modern society, the heroic age in which the great captain of the century awoke in the nations of europe, while endeavoring to subjugate them, a national conscience, just as he transmitted to them, though unwittingly, the impetus of the french revolution. russia heroically resisting the outsider is tolstoï's hero. the action of the novel merely serves as a pretext to intertwine chapters of history, politics, and philosophy; it is rather a general panorama of russian life than an artistic fiction. "war and peace" is a complement to the poetic satire of gogol, delineating the new society which was to rise upon the ruins of the past. if we apply the rules of composition in novel-writing, "war and peace" cannot be defended; there is neither unity, nor hero, nor hardly plot; so loose and careless is the thread that binds the story together, and so slowly does the argument develop, that sometimes the reader has already forgotten the name of a character when he meets with it again ten chapters farther on. the vast incoherence of the russian soul, its lack of mental discipline, its vagueness and liking for digressions, could have no more complete personification in literature. one therefore needs resolution to plunge into the perusal of works in which art mimics nature, copying the inimitable extension of the russian plains. i once asked a very clever friend how she was occupying herself. she replied, "i have fallen to the bottom of a russian novel, and i cannot get out!" but scarcely has one finished the first two hundred pages, as a first mouthful, when one's interest begins to awaken,--not a mere vulgar curiosity as to events, but a noble interest of mind and heart. it is the stream of life, grand and majestic, which passes before our eyes like the expanse of a mighty flowing river. tolstoï--more than turguenief, who is always and first of all the artist, and more than dostoiëwsky, who sees humanity from the point of view of his own turbulent mind and confused soul--tolstoï produces a supreme and absolute impression of the truth, although, in the light of his harmonious union of faculties, it is impossible to say whether he hits the mark by means of external or internal realism,--whether he is more perfect in his descriptions, his dialogues, or his studies of character. in reading tolstoï, we feel as though we were looking at the spectacle of the universe where nothing seems to us unreal or invented. tolstoï's fictitious characters are not more vivid than his historical ones,--napoleon or alexander i., for example; he is as careful in the expression of a sublime sentiment as in a minute and vulgar detail. every touch is wonderful. his description of a battle is amazing (and who else can describe a battle like tolstoï!), but he is charming when he gives us the day-dreams and love-fancies of a child still playing with her dolls. and what a clear intuition he has of the motives of human actions! what a penetrating, unwavering, scrutinizing glance that "trieth the hearts and the reins," as saith the scripture! tolstoï does not exhaust his perspicacity in the study of instinct alone; with eagle eye he pierces the most complex souls, refined and enveloped in the veil of education,--courtiers, diplomats, princes, generals, ladies of high rank, and famous statesmen. no one else has described the drawing-room so exquisitely and so truly as tolstoï; and it must be admitted that the picture of official good society is terribly embarrassing. some chapters of "anna karénina" and "war and peace" seem to exhale the warm soft air that greets us as we enter the door of a luxurious, aristocratic mansion. the master-painter controls the collectivity as well as the individual; he dissects the soul of the multitude, the spirit of the nation, with the same energy and dexterity as that of one man. the wonderful pictures of the invasion and burning of moscow are continual examples of this. is "war and peace" a historical novel in the limited, archæological, false, and conventional conception? certainly not. tolstoï's historical novel has realized the conjunction of the novel and the epic, with the good qualities of both. in this novel--so broad, so deep, so human, and at times so patriotic, as tolstoï understands patriotism--there is a subtle breath of nihilism, an essence of euphorbia, a poison of _ourare_, which colors the whole drift of russian literature. this tendency is personified in the hero (if the book may be said to have one at all), pierre besukof, a true sclavonic soul, expansive, full of unrest and disquietude, passionate, unstable, the character of a child united to the investigating intelligence of a philosopher,--a pre-nihilist (to coin a word) who goes in search of certainty and repose, and finds them not until he meets at last with one "poor in spirit," a wretched common soldier, a type of meek resignation and inconsequent fatalism, who shows him how to attain to his desires through a mystic indifferentism, a voluntary abrogation of the body, and a vegetative form of existence, in fact, a form of quietism, of indian nirvana. this same philosophical concept inspires all of tolstoï's writings. once a nihilist and now converted, culture and the exercise of reason are to him lamentable gifts; his ideal is not progression, but retrogression; the final word of human wisdom is to return to pure nature, the eternal type of goodness, beauty, and truth. the catholic church has also honored the saintly lives of the poor in spirit, such as pascual bailon and fray junipero, _the idiot_; but assuredly it has never presented them as models worthy of imitation in general, only as living examples of grace; and on the contrary, it is the intelligence of great thinkers, like augustine, thomas, and buenaventura, that is revered and written about. in the whole catalogue of sins there is perhaps none more blasphemous than that of spurning the light given by the creator to every creature. but to return to tolstoï. his literary testament is to be found in "anna karénina," a novel but little less prolix than "war and peace," published in . while "war and peace" pictured society at the beginning of the century, "anna karénina" pictures contemporary society,--a more difficult task, because it lacks perspective, yet an easier one, because one can better understand the mode of thought of one's contemporaries; therefore in "anna karénina" the epic quality is inferior to the lyric. the principal character is amply developed, and the study of passion is complete and profound. the argument in "anna karénina" is upon an illicit love, young, sincere, and overpowering. tolstoï does not justify it; the whole tone of the book is austere. it would seem as though he proposed to demonstrate--indirectly, and according to the demands of art--that a generous soul cannot live outside the moral law; and that even when circumstances seem entirely favorable, and those obstacles which society and custom oppose to his passion have disappeared, the discord within him is enough to poison happiness and make life intolerable. in both of tolstoï's novels there is much insistence on the necessity of believing and contemplating religious matters, the thirst of faith. although tolstoï observes the canon of literary impersonality with a rigorous care that is equal to that of flaubert himself, yet it is plainly to be seen that pierre besukof in "war and peace," and levine in "anna karénina" are one and the same with the author, with his doubts, his painful anxiety to get away from indifferentism and to solve the eternal problem whose explanation heine demanded of the waves of the north sea. tolstoï cannot consent to the idea of dying an atheist and a nihilist, or to living without knowing why or for what. referring to the autobiography called "memoirs," we see that from childhood he was troubled and tortured by the mystery of things about him and the hereafter. he tells there how his mind reasoned with, penetrated, and passed in review the diverse solutions offered to the great enigma; once he thought, like the stoics, that happiness depends not upon circumstances, but upon our manner of accepting them, and that a man inured to suffering could not be afflicted by misfortunes; possessed with this idea he held a heavy dictionary upon his outstretched hand for five minutes, enduring frightful pains; he disciplined himself with a whip until his tears started. then he turned to epicurus; he remembered that life is short; that to man belongs only the disposition of the present; and under the influence of these ideas he abandoned his lessons for three days, and spent the time lying on his bed reading novels or eating sweets. he sees a horse, and at once inquires, "when this animal dies, where will his spirit go? into the body of another horse? into the body of a man?" and he wearies himself with questionings, with struggling over knotty problems, with thoughts upon thoughts, and all the while his ardent imagination conjures before him dreams of love, happiness, and fame. beneath the restless effervescence of fancy and youth the religious sentiment was pulsating,--the strongest and most deeply rooted sentiment in his soul. one episode from the "memoirs" will prove to us the innate religious nature of the novelist. he tells us that once, when he was still a child in his father's country-house, a certain beggar came to the door, a poor vagabond, one-eyed and pock-marked, half idiot and foolish,--one of those coarse clay vessels in which, according to contemporaneous russian literature, the divine light is wont to be enclosed. he was offered shelter and hospitality, though none knew whence he came, nor why he followed a mysterious wandering life, always going from place to place, barefooted and poor, visiting the convents, distributing religious objects, murmuring incoherent words, and sleeping wherever a handful of straw was thrown down for him. within the house, at supper-time, they fall to discussing him. tolstoï's mother pities him, his father abuses him; the latter thinks him little better than a cheat and a sluggard, the former reveres him as one inspired of god, a holy man, who earns glory and reward every minute by wearing around his body a chain sixty pounds in weight. nevertheless, the vagabond obtains shelter and food, and the children, whose curiosity has been excited by the discussion, go and hide in a dark room next to his, so as "to see gricha's chain." tolstoï was filled with awe in his dark corner to hear the beggar pray, to see him throw himself upon the floor and writhe in mystic transports amid the clanking of his chain. "many things have happened since then," he exclaims, "many other memories have lost all importance for me; gricha, the wanderer, has long since reached the end of his last journey, but the impression which he produced upon me will never fade; i shall never forget the feelings that he awoke in my soul. o gricha! o great christian! thy faith was so ardent that thou couldst feel god near; thy love was so great that the words flowed of themselves from thy lips, and thou hadst not to ask thy reason for an examination of them. and how magnificently didst thou praise the almighty when, words failing to express the feelings of thy heart, thou threwest thyself weeping upon the floor!" this episode of childhood will indeed never fade from the memory or the heart of tolstoï. after seeking conviction and repose in arrogant human science and in philosophy, tolstoï, like his two heroes, finds them at last in the meekness and simplicity of the most abject classes. like his own pierre besukof, who receives the mystic illumination at the mouth of a common soldier who is to be shot by the french, or like his own levine, who gets the same from a poor laboring peasant stacking hay, tolstoï was converted by one sutayef, one of those innumerable _mujiks_ who go about the country announcing the good tidings of the day of communist fraternity. "five years ago," says tolstoï in "my religion," "my faith was given to me; i believed in the teachings of jesus, and my whole life suddenly changed; i abhorred what i had loved, and loved what i had abhorred; what before seemed bad to me, now seemed good, and _vice versa_." it was a sad day for art when this change of spirit came upon count tolstoï. its immediate effect was to suspend the publication of a novel he had begun, to make him despise his master-works, call them empty vanities, and accuse himself of having speculated with the public in arousing evil passions and fanning the fires of sensuality. a heretic and a rationalist (tolstoï is clearly both; for what he calls his conversion is neither to catholicism nor to the greek church), he now abuses the novel, like some persons nearer home with better intentions than intelligence, as being an incentive to loose actions, the devil's bait, and agrees with saint francis de sales that "novels are like mushrooms,--the best of them are good for nothing." tolstoï has not cast aside the pen; he continues to write, but no more such superb pages as we find in "war and peace" and "anna karénina," no more masterly silhouettes of fine society or the high ranks of the military, not the imperial profile of alexander i. or the charming figure of the princess marie; he writes edifying apologies, biblical parables dedicated to the enlightenment of village-folk; exegeses and religious controversies, professions of faith and dramas for the people. has the great writer died? nay, i believe that he still lives and breathes beneath the coarse tunic and rope girdle of the peasant-dress he wears, and which i have seen in his portraits; for in these same books, written with a moral and religious purpose, such as, for instance, that called "what to do?" in which he has endeavored to dispense with elegance and suppress beauty of rhetoric and style, the grace of the artist flows from his pen in spite of him; his descriptions are word-paintings, and the hand of the master is revealed in the admirable conciseness of diction; he controls every resource of art, and is inspired, will-he, nill-he. tolstoï was right in reminding himself that genius is a divine gift, and there is no law that can annul it or cast it out. i cannot believe that count tolstoï will persevere in his present path. in the first place, i have little confidence in conversion to a rationalist faith; in the second place, from what i have heard of the disposition of the incomparable novelist, i think it impossible that he should long remain stationary and satisfied. in his vigorous, passionate nature imagination has the strongest part; he is enthusiastic, and given to extremes, like prince besukof in "war and peace;" he is like a fiery charger dashing on at full gallop, that leaps and plunges, and stays not even upon the edge of the precipice. to-day, under the influence of an unbridled sentiment of compassion, he is playing the part of redeemer and apostle; he imitates in his proprietary mansion and in the neighboring towns the primitive fraternal customs of the early christians; he follows the plough and swings the scythe, and waits on himself, rejecting every offer of service and everything that refines life. to-morrow, perhaps, his lofty understanding will tell him that he was not born to make shoes but novels, and he will perhaps regret having thrown away his best years, the prime of life and creative activity. at present, he has abandoned himself to the grace of god; and to those of us who are interested in intellectual phenomena, his religious ideas, which are closely interwoven with his imaginative creations, are extremely attractive. "my religion" contains the fullest exposition of them. he states in it that the whole teaching of jesus christ is revealed in one single principle,--that of non-resistance to evil; it is to turn the other cheek, not to judge one's neighbor, not to be angry, not to kill. tolstoï's experience with the gospels is like that of the uninitiated who goes into a physical laboratory, and without having any previous instruction wishes to understand at once the management of this or that apparatus or machinery. the sublime and compendious message of the son of man has been for nineteen hundred years explained and defined by the loftiest minds in theology and philosophy, who have elucidated every real and profound phase of it as far as is compatible with human needs and laws; but tolstoï, extracting at pleasure that passage from the sacred book which most strikes his poetic imagination, deduces therefrom a social state impossible and superhuman; declares tribunals, prisons, authorities, riches, art, war, and armies, iniquitous and reprehensible. in his earliest years tolstoï dwelt much on thoughts of the tragedy of war, and in "war and peace" he gives utterance to some very original and extraordinary, and sometimes even most ingenious opinions concerning it. no historian that i know of can be compared to tolstoï on this point; none has succeeded in putting in relief the mysterious moral force, the blind and irresistible impulse which determines the great collisions between two peoples independently of the external and trivial causes to which history attributes them. nor has any one else brought out as clearly as tolstoï the part played in war by the army, the anonymous mass always sacrificed to the personality of two or three celebrated chiefs,--not only in the campaign bulletins but in the narratives of clio herself. i believe it will be long before such another man as tolstoï will arise, not only in the realms of the art of depicting great battle-scenes, but so rich in the gifts of military psychology and physiology; one who can describe the trembling fear in the recruit as well as the strategic calculations of the commander; one who can transfer the impression made upon the soul by the whistling of the bombs carrying death through the air, as well as the sudden impulse that at a certain decisive moment seizes upon thousands of souls that were before vacillating and unstable, lifts them up to a heroic temperature, and decides, in spite of all strategic combinations, the fate of the battle. though the strenuous enemy of war, tolstoï is perhaps the man who has written about it better than any other in the world; in every other respect i can compare him to some one else, but not in this. in french writings i recall only one page that could be placed beside tolstoï's; it is the admirable description of the battle of waterloo, by stendhal. in the name of his own gospel tolstoï condemns not only human institutions in general, but the church in particular (the greek church, of course), accusing it of having substituted the letter for the spirit, the word of the world for the word of god. it is not to our purpose to point out tolstoï's theological errors, but his artistic and social errors fall within the scope of our investigations. we know that, applying the principle of non-resistance in the most rigorous acceptation, he proscribes war, and, as a logical consequence, he disapproves the sacred love of country, which he qualifies as an absurd prejudice, and reproaches himself whenever his own instincts lead him to wish for the triumph of russia over other nations. in the light of his theory of non-resistance he condemns the revolution, and yet he is forwarding it all the while by his own radical socialism. tolstoï's social ideal is, not to lift up and instruct the ignorant, nor even to suppress pauperism, but to create a state entirely composed of the poor, to annihilate wealth, luxury, the arts, all delicacy and refinement of custom, and lastly--the lips almost refuse to utter it--even cleanliness and care of the body. yes, cleanliness and instruction, to wash and to learn, are, in tolstoï's eyes, great sins, the cause of separation and estrangement among mankind. besides this book in which he has set forth his religious ideas, he has written another called "my confession" and "a commentary on the gospels." in "my confession" he says that having lost faith when very young and given himself up for a time to the vanities of life, and to making literature in which he taught others what he himself knew nothing about, and then turning to science for light upon the enigma of life, he became at last inclined to suicide, when it suddenly occurred to him to look and see how the humbler classes lived, who suffer and toil and know the object of life; and it was borne in upon him that he must follow their example and embrace their simple faith. thus tolstoï formulated the principle enunciated by gogol, and which is dominant in russian literature,--the principle of a return to nature, for which the way was prepared by schopenhauer, and the sort of modern buddhism which leads to a subjection of the reason to the animal and the idiot, and a feeling of unbounded tenderness and reverence for inferior creatures. i have devoted thus much attention to tolstoï's social and religious ideas, not only because they are interlaced with his novels, and to a certain extent complement and explain them, but because tolstoï, though he has allied himself with no political party, not even with the sclavophiles, like dostoiëwsky, is yet a representative of an order of ideas and sentiments common in his country and proper to it; he is the supreme artist of nihilism and pessimism, and at the same time the apostle of a christian socialism newly derived from certain theories, dear to the middle ages, concerning the eternal gospels; he is the interpreter, to the world of culture, society, letters, and arts, of that feverish mysticism which manifests itself in more violent forms among certain russian sects, independent preachers, voluntary mortifiers of the body, the direct inheritors of those who, in dark ages past, declared themselves under the influence of spirits. the spectacle of the socialist fanatic united to the great writer, of the quietist almost exceeding the limits of evangelical charity joined to the novelist of realism almost _à la_ zola, is so interesting from an intellectual point of view, that it is hard to say which most attracts the attention, tolstoï or his books. he has made great mistakes, not the least of which is his renunciation of novel-writing, if indeed that be his intention, though i have heard some russians affirm the contrary. by condemning the arts and luxuries of urban life, and admitting only the good of the agricultural, for the sake of its simplicity and laboriousness, instead of helping on the golden age, he compels a retrogression to the age of the animal, as described by the roman poet,--"the troglodyte snores, being satisfied with acorns." by anathematizing letters, poetry, theatres, balls, banquets, and all the pleasures of intelligence and civilization, he condemns the most delicate instincts that we possess, sanctions barbarism, justifies a new irruption of huns and vandals, and endeavors to arrest the faculty of the perception of the beautiful, which is a glorious attribute of god himself. and all this for what? to find at the end of this harsh penance not the love of jesus christ, who bids us lean on his breast and rest after our labors, but a pantheistic numen, a blind and deaf deity hidden behind a gray mist of abstractions. with sorrow we hear tolstoï, the great artist, blaspheme when he would pray; hear him spurn the gifts of heaven, condemn that form of art in which his name shone brightest and shed lustre on his country and all the world,--calling the novel oil poured upon the flames of sensual love, a licentious pastime, food for the senses, and a noxious diversion. we see him, under the hallucination of his mysticism, making shoes and drawing water with the hands that god gave him for weaving forms and designs of artistic beauty into the texture of his marvellous narratives. v. french realism and russian realism. the russian naturalistic school seems to have reached its culmination in tolstoï. concerning russian naturalism i would say a few words more before leaving the subject. the opinions expressed are impartial, though long confirmed in my own mind. in recapitulating half a century of russian literature, we see that this _natural school_ followed close upon an imitation of foreign style and an effervescence of romanticism; it was founded by gogol, and defended by bielinsky, the estimable critic who did for russia what lessing did for germany. the _natural school_ professed the principle of adhering with strict fidelity to the reality, and of copying life exactly in all its humblest and most trivial details. and this new school, born before romanticism was well worn-out, grew and prospered quickly, producing a harvest of novelists even more fertile than the poets of the antecedent school. the date of its appearance was the period denominated _the forties_,--the decade between and . the general european political agitation, not being able to manifest itself in russia by means of insurrections, tumults, and proclamations, took an intellectual form; and young russia, returning from german universities intoxicated with metaphysics, saturated with liberalism and philanthropy, was eager to pour out its soul, and give vent to its plethora of ideas. a country without lecture-halls, free-press, or political liberty of any sort, had to recur to art as the only refuge. and making use of the sort of subterfuge that love employs when it hides itself under the veil of friendship, the political radical called himself in russia a sort of left-handed hegelian, to invent a phrase. thus russian letters, in assuming a national character, showed a strong social and political bias, which contains the clew to its qualities and defects, and especially to its originality. the academic idea of literature as a gentle solace and noble recreation has been for the last half-century less applicable in russia than anywhere else in the world; never has literature in russia become a profession as in france, where the writer is prone to become more or less the skilful artisan, quick to observe the variations of public taste, what sort of condiment most tickles its palate, and straightway takes advantage of it,--an artisan satisfied, with honorable exceptions, to sell his wares, and to snap his fingers at the world, at humanity, at france, and even at paris, exclusive of that strip of asphalt which runs from the madeleine to the porte st. martin. russian literature stands for more than this; persuaded of the importance of its task, and that it is charged with a great social work and the conduct of the progress of its country,--holy russia, which is itself called to regenerate the world,--neither glory nor gold will satisfy it; its object is to enlighten and to teach the generations. it is but a short step from this to an admonitory and directive literature; and the noblest russian geniuses have stumbled over this propensity at the end of their literary career. gogol finished by publishing edificatory epistles, believing them more advantageous than "dead souls;" an analogous condition has to-day befallen tolstoï. in spite of the severity of nicholas i., literature enjoyed a relative ease and freedom under his sceptre, either because the autocrat had a fondness for it, or was not afraid of it. under the shelter afforded by literature, political utopias, nihilistic germs, subversive philosophies, and dreams of social regeneration were fostered. the novel--more directly, actively, and efficaciously than the most careful treatises or occasional articles--propagated the seeds of revolution, and being filled with sociological ideas, was devoted to the study of the poor and humble classes, and was marked by realism and sincerity of design; while the flood of indignation consequent upon repressive and violent measures broke forth into copious satire. in this development of a literature aspiring to transform society, the love of beauty for beauty's sake plays a secondary part, though it is the proper end and aim of all forms of art. therefore that which receives least attention in the russian novel is perfection of form,--plot and method best revealing the æsthetic conception. it abounds in superb pages, admirable passages, prodigies of observation, and truth; but, except in the case of turguenief, the composition is always defective, and there is a sort of incoherence, of palpable and fearful obscurity, amid which we seem to discover gigantic shapes, vaguer but grander than those we are accustomed to see about us. during a period of twenty or thirty years the novel and the critic were everything to russia; the national intelligence lived in them, and within their precincts it elaborated a free world after its own heart. like a maiden perpetually shut away from the outside world, dreaming of some romantic lover whom she has never known or seen, consoling herself with novels, and fancying that all the fine adventures in them have happened to herself, russia has written into the national novel her own visionary nature, her thirst for political adventures, and her eagerness for transcendental reforms. one most important reform may be said to be directly the work of the novel, namely, the emancipation of the serfs. when the more clement alexander ii. succeeded the austere nicholas i., and the restraints laid upon the political press were loosened so that it could spread its wings, the novel suffered in consequence. the hope of great events to come, the approaching liberation of the serfs, the formation of a sort of liberal cabinet, the efflorescence of new illusions that bud under every new régime, concurred to infuse the literature with civic and social tendencies. beautiful and bright and poetical is art for art's sake, and as puchkine understood it; but at the hour of doubt and strife we ask even art for positive service and practical solutions. who stops to see whether the life-preservers thrown to drowning men struggling with death are of elegant workmanship? in speaking of nihilism i have mentioned the most important one of the directive russian novels, called "what to do?" by the martyr tchernichewsky,--a work of no great literary merit, but which was the gospel of young russia. in his wake followed a host of novelists of this tendency, but inferior, obscure, and without even the inventive power of their leader in dressing up their ideas as symbolic personages, like his ascetic socialist rakmetof, who laid himself down upon a board stuck through with nail-points. in their turn came the reactionaries, or rather the conservatives, and in novels as absurd as those of their predecessors they clothed the nihilists in purple and gold; it finally resulted that everybody was as ready to produce a novel as to write a serious article, or to handle a gun at a barricade. if any one of the neophytes of the school of directive novels possessed genius, it was swallowed up in the froth of political passion. as an accomplice in guilt, criticism did not weigh these works of art in the golden scales of beauty, but in the leaden ones of utility. there were critics who went so far as to declare war upon art, undertaking to ruin the fame of great authors, because they wrought not in the interests of transcendentalism; their motive was like that which impelled the early christians to destroy the great works of paganism. the popular novelists condemned the verses of puchkine and the music of glinka, in the name of the down-trodden and suffering people, just as tolstoï, in remembrance of the hungry family he had just visited, refused to partake of the appetizing meal offered him by servants in livery. as art had not achieved the amelioration of the people's condition, they considered it not merely a futile recreation, but actually an obnoxious thing. bielinsky, with a taint of this same mania, at last entertained scruples against the pure pleasure enjoyed in contemplation of the beautiful, and was almost inclined to stop his ears and shut his eyes so as not to fall into æsthetic sins. are the authors and critics the only ones responsible for this directive character of most russian novels? no. two factors are requisite to the work of art,--the artist and the public. the russians exact more of the novel than we; the latins, at least, regard the novel as a means of beguiling a few evening hours, or a summer siesta,--a way to kill time. not so the russians. they demand that the novelist shall be a prophet, a seer of a better future, a guide of new generations, a liberator of the serf, able to face tyranny, to redeem the country, to reveal the ideal, in fine, an evangelist and an apostle. given this conception, it ought not to astonish us that the students drag turguenief's carriage through the streets, that they faint with emotion at dostoiëwsky's touch, nor that the enthusiasm of the multitude--in itself contagious--should sometimes fill the heads of the novelists themselves. the novelists are, in reality and truth, a faithful echo of the aspirations and needs of the souls that feed upon their works. the occidentalism of turguenief, the mysticism of dostoiëwsky, the pessimism of tolstoï, the charity, the revolutionary spirit,--each is a manifestation of the national atmosphere condensed in the brains of two or three foremost geniuses. who can doubt the reflex action which the anonymous multitude exercises on eminent persons, when he contemplates the great russian novelists? there is a difference, however, between the novel which is purposely directive, the novel with a moral, so to speak, and the novel which is guided by a social drift, by "the spirit of the times." the former is liable to mediocrity and flatness, the latter is the patrimony of the loftiest minds. this spirit, this social sympathy, issued from every pore of ivan turguenief, the most able and exquisite of them all, indirectly and without detriment to his impersonality, and with the full conviction that it ought to be so; and novel-writing is useful in this way and no other. he says as much in a sort of autobiographical fragment, in which he explains how and why he left his country: "i felt that i must at all costs get away from my enemy in order the better to deal him a telling blow. and my enemy bore a well-known name; it was serfdom, slavery. under the name of slavery i included everything that i proposed to fight without truce and to the death. this was my oath, and i was not alone in subscribing thereto. and in order to be faithful to it i came to the occident." if i am not mistaken, the great difference between french and russian naturalism lies in this predominant characteristic of social expression. the defects and merits of french naturalism are bound up with its condition as a purely literary insurrection and protest against the rhetoric of romanticism. in vain zola exerts his titanic energies to impress on his works this social significance, whose invigorating power is not unheeded by his perspicacious mind. he fights against egoism without and perhaps within; but only in the two which he conceives to be his master works, "l'assommoir" and "germinal," has he approached the desired mark. the condition of france is diametrically opposed to that of russia. i am only repeating the opinion of a large number of illustrious frenchmen who have judged themselves without any great amount of optimism. they say, "we are an old people, depraved and worn-out, our illusions vanished, our hopes faded. we have proved all things, and now we cannot be moved either by military glory which has undone and ruined us, or by revolutions which have discredited us and made europe look upon us with suspicion. we have no religious faith, nor even social faith. we desire peace, and, if possible, that industry and commerce may flourish; we are not yet bereft of patriotism, and we expect art to entertain us, which is difficult,--for what new thing remains for the artist to discover? criticism, spread abroad among the multitudes, has killed inspiration; the generative forces are exhausted. we demand so much of the novelists that they are at a loss how to whet our appetites, and neither ugliness, nor unnatural crime, nor monstrous aberrations are sufficient to stimulate our cloyed palates. they are touched with our coldness, and, like ourselves, spiritless and inert, sick and disgusted, they feel beforehand the irremediable and fatal decadence that is coming upon us, and they believe that art in the latin races will die with the century." thus mourn some of the men of france, and to my mind they have a basis of truth. the artist never goes beyond the line marked out by his epoch. and how should he? of course there is, in every work of art, something that is the exclusive property of the individual, something of his own genius; but as the nature of the fish is to swim, but swim it cannot out of the water, and the nature of the bird is to fly, but lacking air it flies not, so, given a social atmosphere, the artist modifies and adapts himself to it. the novelist cannot have an ideal different from the society which reads him; and if one but perceives the rigor and inflexibility of this law, one may avoid many foolish sentiments expressed with the intent to censure the immorality of the novel. take any one of them, tolstoï's, zola's, goncourt's, dostoiëwsky's, look at it well, study it closely, and you will find in it the exact expression and even the artistic interpretation of a tendency of his epoch, his nation, and his race. this is as evident as that two and two make four. novelists are what they must be rather than what they would be, and it is not in their power to make a world after their own hearts or according to any ideal pattern. melchior de voguié, it seems to me, has not recognized this truth in accusing french novelists of materialism, dryness, egoism, and paganism, and has not taken into account the fact that the reflex action of the public upon the novelist is greater than that of the latter upon the former, or at least that the novelist is the first to be influenced, although afterward his works have an influence in turn, and in lesser proportion. "the french realists," says voguié, "ignore the better part of humanity, which is the spirit." this is true; and i have said and thought for a long time that realism, to realize to the full its own program, must embrace matter and spirit, earth and heaven, human and superhuman. i entirely agree with voguié in believing that naturalism--or to call it by a more comprehensive name, the school of truth or realism--should not close its eyes to the mystery that is beyond rational explanations, nor deny the divine as a known quantity. and so entirely is this my opinion, that i could never consent to the narrow and short-sighted idea of some who imagine that a catholic, by the act of admitting the supernatural, the miraculous, and the verity of revelation, is incapacitated for writing a profound, serious, and good novel, a realistic novel, a novel that shall breathe a fragrant essence of truth. aside from the fact that literary as well as scientific methods do not presuppose a negation of religion, when did it ever happen that catholicism, in the days of liveliest faith, impeded the production of the best of realist novels, as for example "don quixote"? the truth is that the novel, given the epic element, will be neither catholic nor religious in those societies which are neither one nor the other. the lyric element does not demand this harmony with society: a great catholic poet may be found in a most agnostic country, but not a catholic novelist. the novel is a clear mirror, a faithful expression of society, and the actual conditions of the novel in europe are a proof of it. i think i have shown that the russian novel reflects the dreams, sentiments, and changes of that country; it appears revolutionary and subversive, because the spirit of both russian _intelligence_ and russian educated people is so. in france, where to-day, in spite of the efforts of the spiritual and eclectic school, the traditions of the encyclopædia have prevailed together with a frivolous sensualist materialism, the novel follows this road also, and without meaning to strike up béranger's famous refrain,-- "c'est la faute de rousseau, c'est la faute de voltaire," i affirm that _animalism_, determined materialism, pessimism, and _decadentism_ may be explained by the light of the great writers of the eighteenth century, not only through their literary influence, but because the society which pores over the novels of the present day is the daughter of the french revolution, and the latter is the daughter of the encyclopædia. who does not know the relation which exists between the novel and the fashion in england, and how the former is conditioned, shaped, and limited exclusively by the latter? in germany another curious phenomenon is apparent. the novel in vogue is historical,--a condition appropriate to a country where everybody is interested only in epic life and the contingency of war. on account of this interdependence, or, in fact, unity, of the novel and society, i cannot agree with voguié when he says that the books that are influencing and stimulating the multitudes, the general ideas that are transforming europe, are proceeding nowadays not from france but from russia. it may be true of the northern races, but of latin races it cannot be more than partially and indirectly so. does voguié find in the french novel as in the russian the latent fermentation of the evangelical spirit, or are the currents of mysticism that impregnate russia circulating through france? russia is christian, in spite of german materialist philosophers who for a time set her brains in a whirl, but whom she has finally rejected, as the sea gives up a dead body; and if i have succeeded in showing clearly the forms adopted by the social revolution in russia, and the strange analogies these sometimes bear to the actions of the early christians, if i have shown the love of sacrifice, the ardent charity, the sympathetic pity and tenderness not only toward the oppressed but toward even the criminal, the despised, the idiot, and the outcast, which characterize this society and this literature; if i have shown the degrees of mystic fervor by which it is permeated and consumed,--no one need be surprised at my statement and conclusion that although buddha and schopenhauer have a goodly share in the present condition of russian thought, the larger part is nevertheless christian. it is my opinion that the world is more christian now than in the middle ages, not as to faith, but as to sentiments and customs; and if in hours of despondency i were sometimes inclined to doubt the efficiency of the word of christ, the sight of its prodigious effects in russia would certainly correct my doubts. the heterodox nature of the russian faith is not a nullification of it. the most heretical heretic, if he be a sincere christian, has more of truth than error in his faith. but error is like sin: one drop of poison is enough to permeate a glass of pure water; yet it is certain that there is more water than poison in the glass. to return to the literary question, the russian novel demonstrates, if such demonstration be necessary, the futility of the censures directed against naturalism, and which confound general principles with the circumstances and social conditions which environ the novelist. the russian novel proves that all the precepts of the art of naturalism may be realized and fulfilled without committing any of those sins of which it is accused by those who know it through the medium of half a dozen french novels. the charge that is oftenest made against the french realist is the having painted pictures of passion and vice too nakedly and with too much candor,--and the charge is certainly not without foundation; and it may be added that some novelists overload the canvas and go to the extreme of making humanity out to be more sinful than even physical possibilities admit; but they must not be made to bear the responsibility alone; the public that gloats and feeds on these comfits, and grumbles when they are not provided,--the public, i say, must share it. in russia, where the readers do not ask the novelist for intricate plot or high-colored sketches, the novel is chaste: i do not mean in the english sense of being moral with an air of affectation, and frowns and false modesty; i mean chaste without effort, like an ancient marble statue. in "anna karénina" tolstoï depicts an illicit passion, extravagant, vehement, full of youthful ardor; yet there is not a page of "anna karénina" which cannot be read aloud and without a blush. in "war and peace" the most candid pages are models of decorum, of true decorum, such as education, reason, and the dignity of man approve. in "crime and punishment" dostoiëwsky introduces the character of a prostitute; but this character is no such romantic creature as marie gautier or nana. she is not made poetical, nor is she embellished or exaggerated; yet she produces an impression (let him read the novel who doubts) of purity, of suffering, of austerity. in turguenief, by far the most sensual of the great russian novelists, and in pisemsky, of secondary rank, there is so much art in the disposition and harmony of detail and description, that the definitive impression, while less severe than in the case of the two others mentioned, is equally noble and lofty. are they any the less realists for this? they are rather more so, in my opinion. in order to carry out the great precept of modern art, the novelist must copy life,--the life that we live and that unfolds about us every day. but life does not unfold as it is represented in many novels that are the product of french naturalism. the zola school makes use of abstraction and accumulation in uniting in one scene and one character all the aberrations, abominations, and vices that only a collection of profligates could be capable of, with the result offered us in pictures such as the house in "pot-bouille," that should be handled with tongs for fear of soiling one's fingers. we turn to the reality, and we find that all these colors exist, that all these vices are actual,--yes, but one at a time, intermingled with a thousand good or commonplace things; then we are in a rage with the novelist, and ever after bear him a grudge for having a mania for ugliness. the impression which life makes upon us is quite different; the alternative of good is evil, of poetry is vulgarity; we demand a recognition of this from the novelist, and this the russian novelists have given us, yet without leaving the firm ground of realist art. they present the material, the bestial, the trivial, the vile, the obscene, the passionate, as they appear in life, in due proportion and no more. we have also to thank them for having recognized the psychical life, and the spiritual, moral, and religious needs of mankind. and i would make a distinction between the moral spirit of the english novel and the russian. the english judge of human actions according to preconceived notions derived from a general standard accepted by society and officially imposed by custom and the protestant religion. the russian moralist feels deeper and thinks higher; morality is not for him a system of narrow and inalterable rules, but the aspiration of a creature advancing toward a higher plane, and learning his lessons in the hard school of truth and the great theatre of art. the spiritual element in the russian novel is to me one of its most singular merits. the novel should not teach the supernatural, nor be the instrument of any religious propaganda. but from this premise to a condition of mutilation and mere dry chronicle of physiological functions is a long way. there are countless facts of our existence that cannot be explained by the most determined materialist; it is not the duty of art to explain them, but art cannot justly ignore them. Émile zola is both a thinker and an artist. as an artist he is admirable, and is hardly behind tolstoï either in poetic or descriptive faculties; but with the artist he combines the philosopher--may i call it so?--the philosopher of the lowest and coarsest fibre, whose influence upon french naturalism has been most pernicious, and has greatly limited the scope of the novel in his country. * * * * * in conclusion, it is my opinion that the only way to understand the naturalistic movement is in connection with its social environment; the impulse of our age toward a representation of truth in art everywhere prevails, and everywhere the novel has become a result of observation, an analytical study, as we notice in a general view of european literature for the last forty years. the century which began with lyric poetry is closing with a triumphant novel. but the great principle of reality is differently applied in different countries. why was romanticism so much the same in england, germany, spain, and russia? because it was chiefly rhetoric,--a literary protest, an artistic insurrection. and why the differences between french naturalism, the russian _natural school_, english and spanish realism, and italian _verismo_? because each one of these phases of the religion of truth is adequate to the country that conceived it, and to the hour and the occasion upon which it is focused. it is no objection that between these various forms there is close communication and relation. edmund de goncourt once remarked to me that the russian novel is not so original as people think, for besides the marked influence of hoffmann and edgar poe upon the genius of dostoiëwsky, it would not be difficult to trace in the other great writers the inspiration of balzac, flaubert, stendhal, and george sand. pie was right; and yet russian literature is not the less indigenous. i should always prefer the art that is disinterested, that carries within itself its aim and object, to the art that is directive, with a moral purpose; between the art that is pagan and the art that is imbecile, i should choose the pagan. if we spaniards, who are like the russians, at once an ancient and a young people, still ignorant of what the future may lead us to, and never able to make our traditions harmonize with our aspirations,--if we could succeed in incorporating in our novel not merely bits of fragmentary reality, artistic individualisms, but the spirit, the heart, the blood of our country, what we are doing, what we are feeling as a whole,--it would indeed be well. yet i think this impossible, not for lack of talent but for lack of preparation on the part of the public, upon whom at present the novel exercises no influence at all. the novel is read neither quantitatively nor qualitatively in spain. as to quantity, let the authors who publish, and the booksellers who sell, speak what they know; of the quality, let the numerous lovers of montepin and the eager readers of the translations in the _feuilletines_ tell us. the serious and profound novel dies here without an echo; criticism makes no comment upon it, and the public ignores its appearance. is there a single modern novel that is popular, in the true meaning of the word, among us? has any novel had any influence at all in spanish political, social, or moral life? on coming from france, i have often noticed a significant fact, which is, that at the french station of hendaye there is a stand for the sale of all the popular and celebrated novels; while at irun, just across the frontier, only a few steps away, but spanish, there is nothing to be had but a few miserable, trashy books, and not a sign of even our own best novelists' works. from the moment we set foot on spanish soil the novel, as a social element, disappears. it is sad to say, but it is so true that it would be madness to build any illusions on this matter. and yet the instinct, the desire, the inexplicable anxiety of the artist to embody and transmit the great truths of life, the impulse that lifts men to great deeds, and to desire to be the voice of the people, is secretly stimulating the spanish novelists to break the ice of general indifference, to put themselves in communication with the sixty million souls and intelligences that to-day speak our language. is the goal which we desire to attain inaccessible? perhaps; but as the immense difficulties in the way of penetrating to the arctic regions and the discovery of the open polar sea are but an incentive to the explorer, so the impossible in this undertaking should incite and spur on the masters of the iberian novel. a few words of humble confession, and i have done. i feel that there is a certain indecision and ambiguity running through these essays of mine. i could not quite condemn the revolution in russia, nor could i altogether approve its doctrines and discoveries. a book must reflect an intellectual condition which, in my case, is one of uncertainty, vacillation, anxiety, surprise, and interest. my vision has not been perfectly clear, therefore i have offered no conclusive judgments,--for conviction and affirmation can only proceed from the mind they have mastered. russia is an enigma; let those solve it who can,--i could not. the sphinx called to me; i looked into the depths of her eyes, i felt the sweet and bewildering attraction of the unknown, i questioned her, and like the german poet i wait, with but moderate hope, for the answer to come to me, borne by voices of the ocean of time. the crisis in russia by arthur ransome to william peters of aberdeen introduction the characteristic of a revolutionary country is that change is a quicker process there than elsewhere. as the revolution recedes into the past the process of change slackens speed. russia is no longer the dizzying kaleidoscope that it was in . no longer does it change visibly from week to week as it changed in l . already, to get a clear vision of the direction in which it is changing, it is necessary to visit it at intervals of six months, and quite useless to tap the political barometer several times a day as once upon a time one used to do.... but it is still changing very fast. my journal of "russia in ," while giving as i believe a fairly accurate picture of the state of affairs in february and march of , pictures a very different stage in the development of the revolution from that which would be found by observers today. the prolonged state of crisis in which the country has been kept by external war, while strengthening the ruling party by rallying even their enemies to their support, has had the other effects that a national crisis always has on the internal politics of a country. methods of government which in normal times would no doubt be softened or disguised by ceremonial usage are used nakedly and justified by necessity. we have seen the same thing in belligerent and non-revolutionary countries, and, for the impartial student, it has been interesting to observe that, when this test of crisis is applied, the actual governmental machine in every country looks very much like that in every other. they wave different flags to stimulate enthusiasm and to justify submission. but that is all. under the stress of war, "constitutional safeguards" go by the board "for the public good," in moscow as elsewhere. under that stress it becomes clear that, in spite of its novel constitution, russia is governed much as other countries are governed, the real directive power lying in the hands of a comparatively small body which is able by hook or crook to infect with its conscious will a population largely indifferent and inert. a visitor to moscow to-day would find much of the constitutional machinery that was in full working order in the spring of now falling into rust and disrepair. he would not be able once a week or so to attend all-russian executive and hear discussions in this parliament of the questions of the day. no one tries to shirk the fact that the executive committee has fallen into desuetude, from which, when the stress slackens enough to permit ceremonial that has not an immediate agitational value, it may some day be revived. the bulk of its members have been at the front or here and there about the country wrestling with the economic problem, and their work is more useful than their chatter. thus brutally is the thing stated. the continued stress has made the muscles, the actual works, of the revolution more visible than formerly. the working of the machine is not only seen more clearly, but is also more frankly stated (perhaps simply because they too see it now more clearly), by the leaders themselves. i want in this book to describe the working of the machine as i now see it. but it is not only the machine which is more nakedly visible than it was. the stress to which it is being subjected has also not so much changed its character as become easier of analysis. at least, i seem to myself to see it differently. in the earlier days it seemed quite simply the struggle between a revolutionary and non-revolutionary countries. i now think that that struggle is a foolish, unnecessary, lunatic incident which disguised from us the existence of a far more serious struggle, in which the revolutionary and non-revolutionary governments are fighting on the same side. they fight without cooperation, and throw insults and bullets at each other in the middle of the struggle, but they are fighting for the same thing. they are fighting the same enemy. their quarrel with each other is for both parties merely a harassing accompaniment of the struggle to which all europe is committed, for the salvage of what is left of european civilization. the threat of a complete collapse of civilization is more imminent in russia than elsewhere. but it is clear enough in poland, it cannot be disregarded in germany, there is no doubt of its existence in italy, france is conscious of it; it is only in england and america that this threat is not among the waking nightmares of everybody. unless the struggle, which has hitherto been going against us, takes a turn for the better, we shall presently be quite unable to ignore it ourselves. i have tried to state the position in russia today: on the one hand to describe the crisis itself, the threat which is forcing these people to an extreme of effort, and on the other hand to describe the organization that is facing that threat; on the one hand to set down what are the main characteristics of the crisis, on the other hand to show how the comparatively small body of persons actually supplying the russian people with its directives set about the stupendous task of moving that vast inert mass, not along the path of least resistance, but along a path which, while alike unpleasant and extremely difficult, does seem to them to promise some sort of eventual escape. no book is entirely objective, so i do not in the least mind stating my own reason for writing this one (which has taken time that i should have liked to spend on other and very different things). knowledge of this reason will permit the reader to make allowances for such bias i have been unable to avoid, and so, by judicious reading, to make my book perhaps nearly as objective as i should myself wish it to be. it has been said that when two armies face each other across a battle front and engage in mutual slaughter, they may be considered as a single army engaged in suicide. now it seems to me that when countries, each one severally doing its best to arrest its private economic ruin, do their utmost to accelerate the economic ruin of each other, we are witnessing something very like the suicide of civilization itself. there are people in both camps who believe that armed and economic conflict between revolutionary and non-revolutionary europe, or if you like between capitalism and communism, is inevitable. these people, in both camps, are doing their best to make it inevitable. sturdy pessimists, in moscow no less than in london and paris, they go so far as to say "the sooner the better," and by all means in their power try to precipitate a conflict. now the main effort in russia to-day, the struggle which absorbs the chief attention of all but the few communist churchills and communist millerands who, blind to all else, demand an immediate pitched battle over the prostrate body of civilization, is directed to finding a way for russia herself out of the crisis, the severity of which can hardly be realized by people who have not visited the country again and again, and to bringing her as quickly as possible into a state in which she can export her raw materials and import the manufactured goods of which she stands in need. i believe that this struggle is ours as well as russia's, though we to whom the threat is less imminent, are less desperately engaged. victory or defeat in this struggle in russia, or anywhere else on the world's surface, is victory or defeat for every one. the purpose of my book is to make that clear. for, bearing that in mind, i cannot but think that every honest man, of whatever parity, who cares more for humanity than for politics, must do his utmost to postpone the conflict which a few extremists on each side of the barricades so fanatically desire. if that conflict is indeed inevitable, its consequences will be less devastating to a europe cured of her wounds than to a europe scarcely, even by the most hopeful, to be described as convalescent. but the conflict may not be inevitable after all. no man not purblind but sees that communist europe is changing no less than capitalist europe. if we succeed in postponing the struggle long enough, we may well succeed in postponing it until the war-like on both sides look in vain for the reasons of their bellicosity. contents introduction the shortage of things the shortage of men the communist dictatorship a conference at jaroslavl the trade unions the propaganda trains saturdayings industrial conscription what the communists are trying to do in russia rykov on economic plans and on the transformation of the communist party non-partyism possibilities ***i am indebted to the editor of the "manchester guardian" for permission to make use in some of the chapters of this book of material which has appeared in his paper. the crisis in russia the shortage of things nothing can be more futile than to describe conditions in russia as a sort of divine punishment for revolution, or indeed to describe them at all without emphasizing the fact that the crisis in russia is part of the crisis in europe, and has been in the main brought about like the revolution itself, by the same forces that have caused, for example, the crisis in germany or the crisis in austria. no country in europe is capable of complete economic independence. in spite of her huge variety of natural resources, the russian organism seemed in to have been built up on the generous assumption that with europe at least the country was to be permanently at peace, or at the lost to engage in military squabbles which could be reckoned in months, and would keep up the prestige of the autocracy without seriously hampering imports and exports. almost every country in europe, with the exception of england, was better fitted to stand alone, was less completely specialized in a single branch of production. england, fortunately for herself, was not isolated during the war, and will not become isolated unless the development of the crisis abroad deprives her of her markets. england produces practically no food, but great quantities of coal, steel and manufactured goods. isolate her absolutely, and she will not only starve, but will stop producing manufactured goods, steel and coal, because those who usually produce these things will be getting nothing for their labor except money which they will be unable to use to buy dinners, because there will be no dinners to buy. that supposititious case is a precise parallel to what has happened in russia. russia produced practically no manufactured goods ( per cent. of her machinery she received from abroad), but great quantities of food. the blockade isolated her. by the blockade i do not mean merely the childish stupidity committed by ourselves, but the blockade, steadily increasing in strictness, which began in august, , and has been unnecessarily prolonged by our stupidity. the war, even while for russia it was not nominally a blockade, was so actually. the use of tonnage was perforce restricted to the transport of the necessaries of war, and these were narrowly defined as shells, guns and so on, things which do not tend to improve a country economically, but rather the reverse. the imports from sweden through finland were no sort of make-weight for the loss of poland and germany. the war meant that russia's ordinary imports practically ceased. it meant a strain on russia, comparable to that which would have been put on england if the german submarine campaign had succeeded in putting an end to our imports of food from the americas. from the moment of the declaration of war, russia was in the position of one "holding out," of a city standing a siege without a water supply, for her imports were so necessary to her economy that they may justly be considered as essential irrigation. there could be no question for her of improvement, of strengthening. she was faced with the fact until the war should end she had to do with what she had, and that the things she had formerly counted on importing would be replaced by guns and shells, to be used, as it turned out, in battering russian property that happened to be in enemy hands. she even learned that she had to develop gun-making and shell-making at home, at the expense of those other industries which to some small extent might have helped her to keep going. and, just as in england such a state of affairs would lead to a cessation of the output of iron and coal in which england is rich, so in russia, in spite of her corn lands, it led to a shortage of food. the russian peasant formerly produced food, for which he was paid in money. with that money, formerly, he was able to clothe himself, to buy the tools of his labor, and further, though no doubt he never observed the fact, to pay for the engines and wagons that took his food to market. a huge percentage of the clothes and the tools and the engines and the wagons and the rails came from abroad, and even those factories in russia which were capable of producing such things were, in many essentials, themselves dependent upon imports. russian towns began to be hungry in . in october of that year the empress reported to the emperor that the shrewd rasputin had seen in a vision that it was necessary to bring wagons with flour, butter and sugar from siberia, and proposed that for three days nothing else should be done. then there would be no strikes. "he blesses you for the arrangement of these trains." in the peasants were burying their bread instead of bringing it to market. in the autumn of i remember telling certain most incredulous members of the english government that there would be a most serious food shortage in russia in the near future. in came the upheaval of the revolution, in peace, but for russia, civil war and the continuance of the blockade. by july, , the rarity of manufactured goods was such that it was possible two hundred miles south of moscow to obtain ten eggs for a box of matches, and the rarity of goods requiring distant transport became such that in november, , in western russia, the peasants would sell me nothing for money, whereas my neighbor in the train bought all he wanted in exchange for small quantities of salt. it was not even as if, in vital matters, russia started the war in a satisfactory condition. the most vital of all questions in a country of huge distances must necessarily be that of transport. it is no exaggeration to say that only by fantastic efforts was russian transport able to save its face and cover its worst deficiencies even before the war began. the extra strain put upon it by the transport of troops and the maintenance of the armies exposed its weakness, and with each succeeding week of war, although in and russia did receive locomotives from abroad, russian transport went from bad to worse, making inevitable a creeping paralysis of russian economic life, during the latter already acute stages of which the revolutionaries succeeded to the disease that had crippled their precursors. in russia had in all , locomotives, of which , burnt coal, , burnt oil and wood. but that figure of twenty thousand was more impressive for a government official, who had his own reasons for desiring to be impressed, than for a practical railway engineer, since of that number over five thousand engines were more than twenty years old, over two thousand were more than thirty years old, fifteen hundred were more than forty years old, and patriarchs had passed their fiftieth birthday. of the whole twenty thousand only , were under ten years of age. that was six years ago. in the meantime russia has been able to make in quantities decreasing during the last five years by and per cent. annually, , new locomotives. in of the locomotives then in russia about , were in working condition. in there were, in spite of new ones, only , . in the number of healthy locomotives was slightly higher, owing partly to the manufacture of at home in the preceding year and partly to the arrival of from abroad. in in spite of the arrival of a further small contingent the number sank to between , and , . early in the germans in the ukraine and elsewhere captured , . others were lost in the early stages of the civil war. the number of locomotives fell from , in january to , in april, after which the artificially instigated revolt of the czecho-slovaks made possible the fostering of civil war on a large scale, and the number fell swiftly to , in december. in the numbers varied less markedly, but the decline continued, and in december last year , engines were in working order. in january this year the number was , , rising slightly in february, when the number was , . a calculation was made before the war that in the best possible conditions the maximum russian output of engines could be not more than , annually. at this rate in ten years the russians could restore their collection of engines to something like adequate numbers. today, thirty years would be an inadequate estimate, for some factories, like the votkinsky, have been purposely ruined by the whites, in others the lathes and other machinery for building and repairing locomotives are worn out, many of the skilled engineers were killed in the war with germany, many others in defending the revolution, and it will be long before it will be possible to restore to the workmen or to the factories the favorable material conditions of - . thus the main fact in the present crisis is that russia possesses one-fifth of the number of locomotives which in was just sufficient to maintain her railway system in a state of efficiency which to english observers at that time was a joke. for six years she has been unable to import the necessary machinery for making engines or repairing them. further, coal and oil have been, until recently, cut off by the civil war. the coal mines are left, after the civil war, in such a condition that no considerable output may be expected from them in the near future. thus, even those engines which exist have had their efficiency lessened by being adapted in a rough and ready manner for burning wood fuel instead of that for which they were designed. let us now examine the combined effect of ruined transport and the six years' blockade on russian life in town and country. first of all was cut off the import of manufactured goods from abroad. that has had a cumulative effect completed, as it were, and rounded off by the breakdown of transport. by making it impossible to bring food, fuel and raw material to the factories, the wreck of transport makes it impossible for russian industry to produce even that modicum which it contributed to the general supply of manufactured goods which the russian peasant was accustomed to receive in exchange for his production of food. on the whole the peasant himself eats rather more than he did before the war. but he has no matches, no salt, no clothes, no boots, no tools. the communists are trying to put an end to illiteracy in russia, and in the villages the most frequent excuse for keeping children from school is a request to come and see them, when they will be found, as i have seen them myself, playing naked about the stove, without boots or anything but a shirt, if that, in which to go and learn to read and write. clothes and such things as matches are, however, of less vital importance than tools, the lack of which is steadily reducing russia's actual power of food production. before the war russia needed from abroad huge quantities of agricultural implements, not only machines, but simple things like axes, sickles, scythes. in her own production of these things had fallen to . per cent. of her already inadequate peacetime output. in it had fallen to . per cent. the soviet government is making efforts to raise it, and is planning new factories exclusively for the making of these things. but, with transport in such a condition, a new factory means merely a new demand for material and fuel which there are neither engines nor wagons to bring. meanwhile, all over russia, spades are worn out, men are plowing with burnt staves instead of with plowshares, scratching the surface of the ground, and instead of harrowing with a steel-spiked harrow of some weight, are brushing the ground with light constructions of wooden spikes bound together with wattles. the actual agricultural productive powers of russia are consequently sinking. but things are no better if we turn from the rye and corn lands to the forests. saws are worn out. axes are worn out. even apart from that, the shortage of transport affects the production of wood fuel, lack of which reacts on transport and on the factories and so on in a circle from which nothing but a large import of engines and wagons will provide an outlet. timber can be floated down the rivers. yes, but it must be brought to the rivers. surely horses can do that. yes, but, horses must be fed, and oats do not grow in the forests. for example, this spring ( ) the best organized timber production was in perm government. there sixteen thousand horses have been mobilized for the work, but further development is impossible for lack of forage. a telegram bitterly reports, "two trains of oats from ekaterinburg are expected day by day. if the oats arrive in time a considerable success will be possible." and if the oats do not arrive in time? besides, not horses alone require to be fed. the men who cut the wood cannot do it on empty stomachs. and again rises a cry for trains, that do not arrive, for food that exists somewhere, but not in the forest where men work. the general effect of the wreck of transport on food is stated as follows: less than per cent. of the oats required, less than per cent. of the bread and salt required for really efficient working, were brought to the forests. nonetheless three times as much wood has been prepared as the available transport has removed. the towns suffer from lack of transport, and from the combined effect on the country of their productive weakness and of the loss of their old position as centres through which the country received its imports from abroad. townsfolk and factory workers lack food, fuel, raw materials and much else that in a civilized state is considered a necessary of life. thus, ten million poods of fish were caught last year, but there were no means of bringing them from the fisheries to the great industrial centres where they were most needed. townsfolk are starving, and in winter, cold. people living in rooms in a flat, complete strangers to each other, by general agreement bring all their beds into the kitchen. in the kitchen soup is made once a day. there is a little warmth there beside the natural warmth of several human beings in a small room. there it is possible to sleep. during the whole of last winter, in the case i have in mind, there were no means of heating the other rooms, where the temperature was almost always far below freezing point. it is difficult to make the conditions real except by individual examples. the lack of medicines, due directly to the blockade, seems to have small effect on the imagination when simply stated as such. perhaps people will realize what it means when instead of talking of the wounded undergoing operations without anesthetics i record the case of an acquaintance, a bolshevik, working in a government office, who suffered last summer from a slight derangement of the stomach due to improper and inadequate feeding. his doctor prescribed a medicine, and nearly a dozen different apothecaries were unable to make up the prescription for lack of one or several of the simple ingredients required. soap has become an article so rare (in russia as in germany during the blockade and the war there is a terrible absence of fats) that for the present it is to be treated as a means of safeguarding labor, to be given to the workmen for washing after and during their work, and in preference to miners, chemical, medical and sanitary workers, for whose efficiency and health it is essential. the proper washing of underclothes is impossible. to induce the population of moscow to go to the baths during the typhus epidemic, it was sufficient bribe to promise to each person beside the free bath a free scrap of soap. houses are falling into disrepair for want of plaster, paint and tools. nor is it possible to substitute one thing for another, for russia's industries all suffer alike from their dependence on the west, as well as from the inadequacy of the transport to bring to factories the material they need. people remind each other that during the war the germans, when similarly hard put to it for clothes, made paper dresses, table-cloths, etc. in russia the nets used in paper-making are worn out. at last, in april, (so lenin told me), there seemed to be a hope of getting new ones from abroad. but the condition of the paper industry is typical of all, in a country which, it should not be forgotten, could be in a position to supply wood-pulp for other countries besides itself. the factories are able to produce only sixty per cent. of demands that have previously, by the strictest scrutiny, been reduced to a minimum before they are made. the reasons, apart from the lack of nets and cloths, are summed up in absence of food, forage and finally labor. even when wood is brought by river the trouble is not yet overcome. the horses are dead and eaten or starved and weak. factories have to cease working so that the workmen, themselves underfed, can drag the wood from the barges to the mills. it may well be imagined what the effect of hunger, cold, and the disheartenment consequent on such conditions of work and the seeming hopelessness of the position have on the productivity of labor, the fall in which reacts on all the industries, on transport, on the general situation and so again on itself. mr. j. m. keynes, writing with central europe in his mind (he is, i think, as ignorant of russia as i am of germany), says: "what then is our picture of europe? a country population able to support life on the fruits of its own agricultural production, but without the accustomed surplus for the towns, and also (as a result of the lack of imported materials, and so of variety and amount in the salable manufactures of the towns) without the usual incentives to market food in exchange for other wares; an industrial population unable to keep its strength for lack of food, unable to earn a livelihood for lack of materials, and so unable to make good by imports from abroad the failure of productivity at home." russia is an emphasized engraving, in which every line of that picture is bitten in with repeated washes of acid. several new lines, however, are added to the drawing, for in russia the processes at work elsewhere have gone further than in the rest of europe, and it is possible to see dimly, in faint outline, the new stage of decay which is threatened. the struggle to arrest decay is the real crisis of the revolution, of russia, and, not impossibly, of europe. for each country that develops to the end in this direction is a country lost to the economic comity of europe. and, as one country follows another over the brink, so will the remaining countries be faced by conditions of increasingly narrow self-dependence, in fact by the very conditions which in russia, so far, have received their clearest, most forcible illustration. the shortage of men in the preceding chapter i wrote of russia's many wants, and of the processes visibly at work, tending to make her condition worse and not better. but i wrote of things, not of people. i wrote of the shortage of this and of that, but not of the most serious of all shortages, which, while itself largely due to those already discussed, daily intensifies them, and points the way to that further stage of decay which is threatened in the near future in russia, and, in the more distant future in europe. i did not write of the shortage deterioration of labor. shortage of labor is not peculiar to russia. it is among the postwar phenomena common to all countries. the war and its accompanying eases have cost europe, including russia, an enormous number of able-bodied men. many millions of others have lost the habit of regular work. german industrialists complain that they cannot get labor, and that when they get it, it is not productive. i heard complaints on the same subject in england. but just as the economic crisis, due in the first instance to the war and the isolation it imposed, has gone further in russia than elsewhere, so the shortage of labor, at present a handicap, an annoyance in more fortunate countries, is in russia perhaps the greatest of the national dangers. shortage of labor cannot be measured simply by the decreasing numbers of the workmen. if it takes two workmen as long to do a particular job in as it took one man to do it in , then, even if the number of workman has remained the same, the actual supply of labor has been halved. and in russia the situation is worse than that. for example, in the group of state metal-working factories, those, in fact which may be considered as the weapon with which russia is trying to cut her way out of her transport difficulties, apart from the fact that there were in , workmen, whereas in there are only , , labor has deteriorated in the most appalling manner. in in these factories per cent. of the nominal working hours were actually kept; in work goes on during only per cent. of the nominal hours. it is estimated that the labor of a single workman produces now only one quarter of what it produced in . to take another example, also from workmen engaged in transport, that is to say, in the most important of all work at the present time: in the moscow junction of the moscow kazan railway, between november st and february th ( ), workmen and clerks missed , working days, being absent, on in average, forty days per man in the four months. in moscow passenger-station on this line, workmen missed in november days, in december , in january , and in february ; in an appalling crescendo further illustrated by the wagon department, where workmen missed in november days and in february . in november workmen absented themselves for single days. in february the same workmen were absent for the greater part of the month. the invariable excuse was illness. many cases of illness there undoubtedly were, since this period was the worst of the typhus epidemic, but besides illness, and besides mere obvious idleness which no doubt accounts for a certain proportion of illegitimate holidays, there is another explanation which goes nearer the root of the matter. much of the time filched from the state was in all probability spent in expeditions in search of food. in petrograd, the council of public economy complain that there is a tendency to turn the eight-hour day into a four-hour day. attempts are being made to arrest this tendency by making an additional food allowance conditional on the actual fulfilment of working days. in the donetz coal basin, the monthly output per man was in poods, in poods, in poods (figures taken from ekaterinoslav government), and in the output per man is estimated at being something near poods. in the shale mines on the volga, where food conditions are comparatively good, productivity is comparatively high. thus in a small mine near simbirsk there are workmen, of' whom to are skilled. the output for the unskilled is . poods in a shift, for the skilled . . but even there per cent. of the workmen are regular absentees, and actually the mine works only or days in a month, that is, per cent. of the normal number of working days. the remaining per cent. of normal working time is spent by the workmen in getting food. another small mine in the same district is worked entirely by unskilled labor, the workers being peasants from the neighboring villages. in this mine the productivity per man is less, but all the men work full time. they do not have to waste time in securing food, because, being local peasants, they are supplied by their own villages and families. in moscow and petrograd food is far more difficult to secure, more time is wasted on that hopeless task; even with that waste of time, the workman is not properly fed, and it cannot be wondered at that his productivity is low. something, no doubt, is due to the natural character of the russians, which led trotsky to define man as an animal distinguished by laziness. russians are certainly lazy, and probably owe to their climate their remarkable incapacity for prolonged effort. the russian climate is such that over large areas of russia the russian peasant is accustomed, and has been accustomed for hundreds of years, to perform prodigies of labor during two short periods of sowing and harvest, and to spend the immensely long and monotonous winter in a hibernation like that of the snake or the dormouse. there is a much greater difference between a russian workman's normal output and that of which he is capable for a short time if he sets himself to it, than there is between the normal and exceptional output of an englishman, whose temperate climate has not taught him to regard a great part of the year as a period of mere waiting for and resting from the extraordinary effort of a few weeks. [*] * given any particular motive, any particular enthusiasm, or visible, desirable object, even the hungry russian workmen of to-day are capable of sudden and temporary increase of output. the "saturdayings" (see p. ) provide endless illustrations of this. they had something in the character of a picnic, they were novel, they were out of the routine, and the productivity of labor during a "saturdaying" was invariably higher than on a weekday. for example, there is a shortage of paper for cigarettes. people roll cigarettes in old newspapers. it occurred to the central committee of the papermakers' union to organize a "sundaying" with the object of sending cigarette paper to the soldiers in the red army. six factories took part. here is a table showing the output of these factories during the "sundaying" and the average weekday output. the figures are in poods. made on average week factory the sunday day output krasnogorodskaya......... ............... griaznovskaya............. ................ medianskaya.............. ................ dobruzhskaya............. ............... belgiiskaya.............. ................ ropshinskaya.............. ................ ] but this uneven working temperament was characteristic of the russian before the war as well as now. it has been said that the revolution removed the stimulus to labor, and left the russian laziness to have its way. in the first period of the revolution that may have been true. it is becoming day by day less true. the fundamental reasons of low productivity will not be found in any sudden or unusual efflorescence of idleness, but in economic conditions which cannot but reduce the productivity of idle and industrious alike. insufficient feeding is one such reason. the proportion of working time consumed in foraging is another. but the whole of my first chapter may be taken as a compact mass of reasons why the russians at the present time should not work with anything like a normal productivity. it is said that bad workmen complain of their tools, but even good ones become disheartened if compelled to work with makeshifts, mended tools, on a stock of materials that runs out from one day to the next, in factories where the machinery may come at any moment to a standstill from lack of fuel. there would thus be a shortage of labor in russia, even if the numbers of workmen were the same today as they were before the war. unfortunately that is not so. turning from the question of low productivity per man to that of absolute shortage of men: the example given at the beginning of this chapter, showing that in the most important group of factories the number of workmen has fallen per cent. is by no means exceptional. walking through the passages of what used to be the club of the nobles, and is now the house of the trades unions during the recent trades union congress in moscow, i observed among a number of pictorial diagrams on the walls, one in particular illustrating the rise and fall of the working population of moscow during a number of years. each year was represented by the picture of a factory with a chimney which rose and fell with the population. from that diagram i took the figures for , and . these figures should be constantly borne in mind by any one who wishes to realize how catastrophic the shortage of labor in russia actually is, and to judge how sweeping may be the changes in the social configuration of the country if that shortage continues to increase. here are the figures: workmen in moscow in ............ , workmen in moscow in ........... , workmen in moscow in ............ , that is to say, that one-third of the workmen of moscow ceased to live there, or ceased to be workmen, in the course of a single year. a similar phenomenon is observable in each one of the big industrial districts. what has become of those workmen? a partial explanation is obvious. the main impulse of the revolution came from the town workers. of these, the metal workers were the most decided, and those who most freely joined the red guard in the early and the red army in the later days of the revolution. many, in those early days, when there was more enthusiasm than discipline, when there were hardly any experienced officers, and those without much authority, were slaughtered during the german advance of . the first mobilizations, when conscription was introduced, were among the workers in the great industrial districts. the troops from petrograd and moscow, exclusively workmen's regiments, have suffered more than any other during the civil war, being the most dependable and being thrown, like the guards of old time, into the worst place at any serious crisis. many thousands of them have died for the sake of the revolution which, were they living, they would be hard put to it to save. (the special shortage of skilled workers is also partially to be explained by the indiscriminate mobilizations of - , when great numbers of the most valuable engineers and other skilled workers were thrown into the front line, and it was not until their loss was already felt that the tsar's government in this matter came belatedly to its senses.) but these explanations are only partial. the more general answer to the question, what has become of the workmen? lies in the very economic crisis which their absence accentuates. russia is unlike england, where starvation of the towns would be practically starvation of the whole island. in russia, if a man is hungry, he has only to walk far enough and he will come to a place where there is plenty to eat. almost every russian worker retains in some form or other connection with a village, where, if he returns, he will not be an entire stranger, but at worst a poor relation, and quite possibly an honored guest. it is not surprising that many thousands have "returned to the land" in this way. further, if a workman retains his connection, both with a distant village and with a town, he can keep himself and his family fat and prosperous by ceasing to be a workman, and, instead, traveling on the buffers or the roof of a railway wagon, and bringing back with him sacks of flour and potatoes for sale in the town at fantastic prices. thereby he is lost to productive labor, and his uncomfortable but adventurous life becomes directly harmful, tending to increase the strain on transport, since it is obviously more economical to transport a thousand sacks than to transport a thousand sacks with an idle workman attached to each sack. further, his activities actually make it more difficult for the town population to get food. by keeping open for the village the possibility of selling at fantastic prices, he lessens the readiness of the peasants to part with their flour at the lower prices of the government. nor is it as if his activities benefited the working population. the food he brings in goes for the most part to those who have plenty of money or have things to exchange for it. and honest men in russia to-day have not much money, and those who have things to exchange are not as a rule workmen. the theory of this man's harmfulness is, i know, open to argument, but the practice at least is exactly as i have stated it, and is obviously attractive to the individual who prefers adventure on a full stomach to useful work on an empty. setting aside the theory with its latent quarrel between free trade and state control, we can still recognize that each workman engaged in these pursuits has become an unproductive middleman, one of that very parasitic species which the revolutionaries had hoped to make unnecessary. it is bad from the revolutionary point of view if a workman is so employed, but it is no less bad from the point of view of people who do not care twopence about the revolution one way or the other, but do care about getting russia on her feet again and out of her economic crisis. it is bad enough if an unskilled workman is so employed. it is far worse if a skilled workman finds he can do better for himself as a "food speculator" than by the exercise of his legitimate craft. from mines, from every kind of factory come complaints of the decreasing proportion of skilled to unskilled workmen. the superior intelligence of the skilled worker offers him definite advantages should he engage in these pursuits, and his actual skill gives him other advantages in the villages. he can leave his factory and go to the village, there on the spot to ply his trade or variations of it, when as a handy man, repairing tools, etc., he will make an easy living and by lessening the dependence of the village on the town do as much as the "food speculator" in worsening the conditions of the workman he has left behind. and with that we come to the general changes in the social geography of russia which are threatened if the processes now at work continue unchecked. the relations between town and village are the fundamental problem of the revolution. town and countryside are in sharp contradiction daily intensified by the inability of the towns to supply the country's needs. the town may be considered as a single productive organism, with feelers stretching into the country, and actual outposts there in the form of agricultural enterprises taking their directives from the centre and working as definite parts of the state organism. all round this town organism, in all its interstices, it too, with its feelers in the form of "food speculators," is the anarchic chaos of the country, consisting of a myriad independent units, regulated by no plan, without a brain centre of any kind. either the organized town will hold its own against and gradually dominate and systematize the country chaos, or that chaos little by little will engulf the town organism. every workman who leaves the town automatically places himself on the side of the country in that struggle. and when a town like moscow loses a third of its working population in a year, it is impossible not to see that, so far, the struggle is going in favor of that huge chaotic, unconscious but immensely powerful countryside. there is even a danger that the town may become divided against itself. just as scarcity of food leads to food speculation, so the shortage of labor is making possible a sort of speculation in labor. the urgent need of labor has led to a resurrection of the methods of the direct recruiting of workmen in the villages by the agents of particular factories, who by exceptional terms succeed in getting workmen where the government organs fail. and, of course, this recruiting is not confined to the villages. those enterprises which are situated in the corn districts are naturally able to offer better conditions, for the sake of which workmen are ready to leave their jobs and skilled workmen to do unskilled work, and the result can only be a drainage of good workmen away from the hungry central industrial districts where they are most of all needed. summing up the facts collected in this chapter and in the first on the lack of things and the lack of men, i think the economic crisis in russia may be fairly stated as follows: owing to the appalling condition of russian transport, and owing to the fact that since russia has been practically in a state of blockade, the towns have lost their power of supplying, either as middlemen or as producers, the simplest needs of the villages. partly owing to this, partly again because of the condition of transport, the towns are not receiving the necessaries of life in sufficient quantities. the result of this is a serious fall in the productivity of labor, and a steady flow of skilled and unskilled workmen from the towns towards the villages, and from employments the exercise of which tends to assist the towns in recovering their old position as essential sources of supply to employments that tend to have the opposite effect. if this continues unchecked, it will make impossible the regeneration of russian industry, and will result in the increasing independence of the villages, which will tend to become entirely self-supporting communities, tilling the ground in a less and less efficient manner, with ruder tools, with less and less incentive to produce more than is wanted for the needs of the village itself. russia, in these circumstances, may sink into something very like barbarism, for with the decay of the economic importance of the towns would decay also their authority, and free-booting on a small and large scale would become profitable and not very dangerous. it would be possible, no doubt, for foreigners to trade with the russians as with the natives of the cannibal islands, bartering looking-glasses and cheap tools, but, should such a state of things come to be, it would mean long years of colonization, with all the new possibilities and risks involved in the subjugation of a free people, before western europe could count once more on getting a considerable portion of its food from russian corn lands. that is the position, those the natural tendencies at work. but opposed to these tendencies are the united efforts of the communists and of those who, leaving the question of communism discreetly aside, work with them for the sake of preventing such collapse of russian civilization. they recognize the existence of every one of the tendencies i have described, but they are convinced that every one of these tendencies will be arrested. they believe that the country will not conquer the town but the reverse. so far from expecting the unproductive stagnation described in the last paragraph, they think of russia as of the natural food supply of europe, which the communists among them believe will, in course of time, be made up for "working men's republics" (though, for the sake of their own republic, they are not inclined to postpone trade with europe until that epoch arrives). at the very time when spades and sickles are wearing out or worn out, these men are determined that the food output of russia shall sooner or later be increased by the introduction of better methods of agriculture and farming on a larger scale. we are witnessing in russia the first stages of a titanic struggle, with on one side all the forces of nature leading apparently to an inevitable collapse of civilization, and on the other side nothing but the incalculable force of human will. the communist dictatorship how is that will expressed? what is the organization welded by adversity which, in this crisis, supersedes even the soviet constitution, and stands between this people and chaos? it is a commonplace to say that russia is ruled, driven if you like, cold, starving as she is, to effort after effort by the dictatorship of a party. it is a commonplace alike in the mouths of those who wish to make the continued existence of that organization impossible and in the mouths of the communists themselves. at the second congress of the third international, trotsky remarked. "a party as such, in the course of the development of a revolution, becomes identical with the revolution." lenin, on the same occasion, replying to a critic who said that he differed from, the communists in his understanding of what was meant by the dictatorship of the proletariat, said, "he says that we understand by the words 'dictatorship of the proletariat' what is actually the dictatorship of its determined and conscious minority. and that is the fact." later he asked, "what is this minority? it may be called a party. if this minority is actually conscious, if it is able to draw the masses after it, if it shows itself capable of replying to every question on the agenda list of the political day, it actually constitutes a party." and trotsky again, on the same occasion, illustrated the relative positions of the soviet constitution and the communist party when he said, "and today, now that we have received an offer of peace from the polish government, who decides the question? whither are the workers to turn? we have our council of people's commissaries, of course, but that, too, must be under a certain control. whose control? the control of the working class as a formless chaotic mass? no. the central committee of the party is called together to discuss and decide the question. and when we have to wage war, to form new divisions, to find the best elements for them-to whom do we turn? to the party, to the central committee. and it gives directives to the local committees, 'send communists to the front.' the case is precisely the same with the agrarian question, with that of supply, and with all other questions whatsoever." no one denies these facts, but their mere statement is quite inadequate to explain what is being done in russia and how it is being done. i do not think it would be a waste of time to set down as briefly as possible, without the comments of praise or blame that would be inevitable from one primarily interested in the problem from the capitalist or communist point of view what, from observation and inquiry, i believe to be the main framework of the organization whereby that dictatorship of the party works. the soviet constitution is not so much moribund as in abeyance. the executive committee, for example, which used to meet once a week or even oftener, now meets on the rarest occasions. criticism on this account was met with the reply that the members of the executive committee, for example, which used to meet once a week or even oftener, now meets on the rarest occasions. criticism on this account was met with the reply that the members of the executive committee were busy on the front and in various parts of russia. as a matter of fact, the work which that committee used to do is now done by central committee of the bolshevik party, so that the bulk of the members of the central executive are actually free for other work, a saving of something like men. this does not involve any very great change, but merely an economy in the use of men. in the old days, as i well remember, the opening of a session of the executive committee was invariably late, the reason being that the various parties composing it had not yet finished their preliminary and private discussions. there is now an overwhelming communist majority in the executive committee, as elsewhere. i think it may be regarded as proved that these majorities are not always legitimately obtained. non-communist delegates do undoubtedly find every kind of difficulty put in their way by the rather jesuitical adherents of the faith. but, no matter how these majorities are obtained, the result is that when the communist party has made up its mind on any subject, it is so certain of being able to carry its point that the calling together of the all-russian executive committee is merely a theatrical demonstration of the fact that it can do what it likes. when it does meet, the communists allow the microscopical opposition great liberty of speech, listen quietly, cheer ironically, and vote like one man, proving on every occasion that the meeting of the executive committee was the idlest of forms, intended rather to satisfy purists than for purposes of discussion, since the real discussion has all taken place beforehand among the communists themselves. something like this must happen with every representative assembly at which a single party has a great preponderance and a rigid internal discipline. the real interest is in the discussion inside the party committees. this state of affairs would probably be more actively resented if the people were capable of resenting anything but their own hunger, or of fearing anything but a general collapse which would turn that hunger into starvation. it must be remembered that the urgency of the economic crisis has driven political questions into the background. the communists (compare rykov's remarks on this subject, p. ) believe that this is the natural result of social revolution. they think that political parties will disappear altogether and that people will band together, not for the victory of one of several contending political parties, but solely for economic cooperation or joint enterprise in art or science. in support of this they point to the number of their opponents who have become communists, and to the still greater number of non-communists who are loyally working with them for the economic reconstruction of the country. i do not agree with the communists in this, nor yet with their opponents, who attribute the death of political discussion to fear of the extraordinary commission. i think that both the communists and their opponents underestimate the influence of the economic ruin that affects everybody. the latter particularly, feeling that in some way they must justify themselves to politically minded foreign visitors, seek an excuse for their apathy in the one institution that is almost universally unpopular. i have many non-communist friends in russia, but have never detected the least restraint that could be attributed to fear of anybody in their criticisms of the communist regime. the fear existed alike among communists and non-communists, but it was like the fear of people walking about in a particularly bad thunderstorm. the activities and arrests of the extraordinary commission are so haphazard, often so utterly illogical, that it is quite idle for any one to say to himself that by following any given line of conduct he will avoid molestation. also, there is something in the russian character which makes any prohibition of discussion almost an invitation to discuss. i have never met a russian who could be prevented from saying whatever he liked whenever he liked, by any threats or dangers whatsoever. the only way to prevent a russian from talking is to cut out his tongue. the real reason for the apathy is that, for the moment, for almost everybody political questions are of infinitesimal importance in comparison with questions of food and warmth. the ferment of political discussion that filled the first years of the revolution has died away, and people talk about little but what they are able to get for dinner, or what somebody else his been able to get. i, like other foreign visitors coming to russia after feeding up in other countries, am all agog to make people talk. but the sort of questions which interest me, with my full-fed stomach, are brushed aside almost fretfully by men who have been more or less hungry for two or three years on end. i find, instead of an urgent desire to alter this or that at once, to-morrow, in the political complexion of the country, a general desire to do the best that can be done with things as they are, a general fear of further upheaval of any kind, in fact a general acquiescence in the present state of affairs politically, in the hope of altering the present state of affairs economically. and this is entirely natural. everybody, communists included, rails bitterly at the inefficiencies of the present system, but everybody, anti-communists included, admits that there is nothing whatever capable of taking its place. its failure is highly undesirable, not because it itself is good, but because such failure would be preceded or followed by a breakdown of all existing organizations. food distribution, inadequate as it now is, would come to an end. the innumerable non-political committees, which are rather like boards of directors controlling the timber, fur, fishery, steel, matches or other trusts (since the nationalized industries can be so considered) would collapse, and with them would collapse not only yet one more hope of keeping a breath of life in russian industry, but also the actual livelihoods of a great number of people, both communists and non-communists. i do not think it is realized out-side russia how large a proportion of the educated classes have become civil servants of one kind or another. it is a rare thing when a whole family has left russia, and many of the most embittered partisans of war on russia have relations inside russia who have long ago found places under the new system, and consequently fear its collapse as much as any one. one case occurs to me in which a father was an important minister in one of the various white governments which have received allied support, while his son inside russia was doing pretty well as a responsible official under the communists. now in the event of a violent change, the communists would be outlaws with a price on every head, and those who have worked with them, being russians, know their fellow countrymen well enough to be pretty well convinced that the mere fact that they are without cards of the membership of the communist party, would not save them in the orgy of slaughter that would follow any such collapse. people may think that i underestimate the importance of, the extraordinary commission. i am perfectly aware that without this police force with its spies, its prisons and its troops, the difficulties of the dictatorship would be increased by every kind of disorder, and the chaos, which i fear may come, would have begun long ago. i believe, too, that the overgrown power of the extraordinary commission, and the cure that must sooner or later be applied to it, may, as in the french revolution, bring about the collapse of the whole system. the commission depends for its strength on the fear of something else. i have seen it weaken when there was a hope of general peace. i have seen it tighten its grip in the presence of attacks from without and attempted assassination within. it is dreaded by everybody; not even communists are safe from it; but it does not suffice to explain the dictatorship, and is actually entirely irrelevant to the most important process of that dictatorship, namely, the adoption of a single idea, a single argument, by the whole of a very large body of men. the whole power of the extraordinary commission does not affect in the slightest degree discussions inside the communist party, and those discussions are the simple fact distinguishing the communist dictatorship from any of the other dictatorships by which it may be supplanted. there are , members of the communist party ( , on april , ). there are nineteen members of the central committee of that party. there are, i believe, five who, when they agree, can usually sway the remaining fourteen. there is no need to wonder how these fourteen can be argued into acceptance of the views of the still smaller inner ring, but the process of persuading the six hundred thousand of the desirability of, for example, such measures as those involved in industrial conscription which, at first sight, was certainly repugnant to most of them, is the main secret of the dictatorship, and is not in any way affected by the existence of the extraordinary commission. thus the actual government of russia at the present time may be not unfairly considered as a small group inside the central committee of the communist party. this small group is able to persuade the majority of the remaining members of that committee. the committee then sets about persuading the majority of the party. in the case of important measures the process is elaborate. the committee issues a statement of its case, and the party newspapers the pravda and its affiliated organs are deluged with its discussion. when this discussion has had time to spread through the country, congresses of communists meet in the provincial centres, and members of the central committee go down to these conferences to defend the "theses" which the committee has issued. these provincial congresses, exclusively communist, send their delegates of an all-russian congress. there the "theses" of the central committee get altered, confirmed, or, in the case of an obviously unpersuaded and large opposition in the party, are referred back or in other ways shelved. then the delegates, even those who have been in opposition at the congress, go back to the country pledged to defend the position of the majority. this sometimes has curious results. for example, i heard communist trades unionists fiercely arguing against certain clauses in the theses on industrial conscription at a communist congress at the kremlin; less than a week afterwards i heard these same men defending precisely these clauses at a trades union congress over the way, they loyally abiding by the collective opinion of their fellow communists and subject to particularly uncomfortable heckling from people who vociferously reminded them (since the communist debates had been published) that they were now defending what, a few days before, they had vehemently attacked. the great strength of the communist party is comparable to the strength of the jesuits, who, similarly, put themselves and their opinions at the disposal of the body politic of their fellow members. until a decision had been made, a communist is perfectly free to do his best to prevent it being made, to urge alterations in it, or to supply a rival decision, but once it has been made he will support it without changing his private opinion. in all mixed congresses, rather than break the party discipline, he will give his vote for it, speak in favor of it, and use against its adversaries the very arguments that have been used against himself. he has his share in electing the local communist committee, and, indirectly, in electing the all-powerful central committee of the party, and he binds himself to do at any moment in his life exactly what these committees decide for him. these committees decide the use that is to be made of the lives, not only of the rank and file of the party, but also of their own members. even a member of the central committee does not escape. he may be voted by his fellow members into leaving a job he likes and taking up another he detests in which they think his particular talents will better serve the party aims. to become a member of the communist party involves a kind of intellectual abdication, or, to put it differently, a readiness at any moment to place the collective wisdom of the party's committee above one's individual instincts or ideas. you may influence its decisions, you may even get it to endorse your own, but lenin himself, if he were to fail on any occasion to obtain the agreement of a majority in the central committee, would have to do precisely what the committee should tell him. lenin's opinion carries great weight because he is lenin, but it carries less weight than that of the central committee, of which he forms a nineteenth part. on the other hand, the opinion of lenin and a very small group of outstanding figures is supported by great prestige inside the committee, and that of the committee is supported by overwhelming prestige among the rank and file. the result is that this small group is nearly always sure of being able to use the whole vote of , communists, in the realization of its decisions. now , men and women acting on the instructions of a highly centralized directive, all the important decisions of which have been thrashed out and re-thrashed until they have general support within the party; , men and women prepared, not only to vote in support of these decisions, but with a carefully fostered readiness to sacrifice their lives for them if necessary; , men and women who are persuaded that by their way alone is humanity to be saved; who are persuaded (to put it as cynically and unsympathetically as possible) that the noblest death one can die is in carrying out a decision of the central committee; such a body, even in a country such as russia, is an enormously strong embodiment of human will, an instrument of struggle capable of working something very like miracles. it can be and is controlled like an army in battle. it can mobilize its members, per cent. of them, per cent., the local committees choosing them, and send them to the front when the front is in danger, or to the railways and repair shops when it is decided that the weakest point is that of transport. if its only task were to fight those organizations of loosely knit and only momentarily united interests which are opposed to it, those jerry-built alliances of reactionaries with liberals, united-indivisible-russians with ukrainians, agrarians with sugar-refiners, monarchists with republicans, that task would long ago have been finished. but it has to fight something infinitely stronger than these in fighting the economic ruin of russia, which, if it is too strong, too powerful to be arrested by the communists, would make short work of those who are without any such fanatic single-minded and perfectly disciplined organization. a conference at jaroslavl i have already suggested that although the small central committee of the communist party does invariably get its own way, there are essential differences between this dictatorship and the dictatorship of, for example, a general. the main difference is that whereas the general merely writes an order about which most people hear for the first time only when it is promulgated, the central committee prepares the way for its dictation by a most elaborate series of discussions and counter discussions throughout the country, whereby it wins the bulk of the communist party to its opinion, after which it proceeds through local and general congresses to do the same with the trades unions. this done, a further series of propaganda meetings among the people actually to be affected smooths the way for the introduction of whatever new measure is being carried through at the moment. all this talk, besides lessening the amount of physical force necessary in carrying out a decision, must also avoid, at least in part, the deadening effect that would be caused by mere compulsory obedience to the unexplained orders of a military dictator. of the reality of the communist dictatorship i have no sort of doubt. but its methods are such as tend towards the awakening of a political consciousness which, if and when normal conditions-of feeding and peace, for example-are attained, will make dictatorship of any kind almost impossible. to illustrate these methods of the dictatorship, i cannot do better than copy into this book some pages of my diary written in march of this year when i was present at one of the provincial conferences which were held in preparation of the all-russian communist conference at the end of the month. at seven in the evening radek called for me and took me to the jaroslavl station, where we met larin, whom i had known in . an old menshevik, he was the originator and most urgent supporter of the decree annulling the foreign debts. he is a very ill man, partially paralyzed, having to use both hands even to get food to his mouth or to turn over the leaves of a book. in spite of this he is one of the hardest workers in russia, and although his obstinacy, his hatred of compromise, and a sort of mixed originality and perverseness keep him almost permanently at loggerheads with the central committee, he retains everybody's respect because of the real heroism with which he conquers physical disabilities which long ago would have overwhelmed a less unbreakable spirit. both radek and larin were going to the communist conference at jaroslavl which was to consider the new theses of the central committee of the party with regard to industrial conscription. radek was going to defend the position of the central committee, larin to defend his own. both are old friends. as radek said to me, he intended to destroy larin's position, but not, if he could help it, prevent larin being nominated among the jaroslavl delegates to all-russian conference which was in preparation. larin, whose work keeps him continually traveling, has his own car, specially arranged so that his uninterrupted labor shall have as little effect as possible on his dangerously frail body. radek and i traveled in one of the special cars of the central executive committee, of which he is a member. the car seemed very clean, but, as an additional precaution, we began by rubbing turpentine on our necks and wrists and angles for the discouragement of lice, now generally known as "semashki" from the name of semashko, the commissar of public health, who wages unceasing war for their destruction as the carriers of typhus germs. i rubbed the turpentine so energetically into my neck that it burnt like a collar of fire, and for a long time i was unable to get to sleep. in the morning radek, the two conductors who had charge of the wagons and i sat down together to breakfast and had a very merry meal, they providing cheese and bread and i a tin of corned beef providently sent out from home by the manchester guardian. we cooked up some coffee on a little spirit stove, which, in a neat basket together with plates, knives, forks, etc. (now almost unobtainable in russia) had been a parting present from the german spartacists to radek when he was released from prison in berlin and allowed to leave germany. the morning was bright and clear, and we had an excellent view of jaroslavl when we drove from the station to the town, which is a mile or so off the line of the railway. the sun poured down on the white snow, on the barges still frozen into the volga river, and on the gilt and painted domes and cupolas of the town. many of the buildings had been destroyed during the rising artificially provoked in july, , and its subsequent suppression. more damage was done then than was necessary, because the town was recaptured by troops which had been deserted by most of their officers, and therefore hammered away with artillery without any very definite plan of attack. the more important of the damaged buildings, such as the waterworks and the power station, have been repaired, the tramway was working, and, after moscow, the town seemed clean, but plenty of ruins remained as memorials of that wanton and unjustifiable piece of folly which, it was supposed, would be the signal for a general rising. we drove to the hotel bristol, now the headquarters of the jaroslavl executive committee, where rostopchin, the president, discussed with larin and radek the programme arranged for the conference. it was then proposed that we should have something to eat, when a very curious state of affairs (and one extremely russian) was revealed. rostopchin admitted that the commissariat arrangements of the soviet and its executive committee were very bad. but in the center of the town there is a nunnery which was very badly damaged during the bombardment and is now used as a sort of prison or concentration camp for a labor regiment. peasants from the surrounding country who have refused to give up their proper contribution of corn, or leave otherwise disobeyed the laws, are, for punishment, lodged here, and made to expiate their sins by work. it so happens, rostopchin explained, that the officer in charge of the prison feeding arrangements is a very energetic fellow, who had served in the old army in a similar capacity, and the meals served out to the prisoners are so much better than those produced in the soviet headquarters, that the members of the executive committee make a practice of walking over to the prison to dine. they invited us to do the same. larin did not feel up to the walk, so he remained in the soviet house to eat an inferior meal, while radek and i, with rostopchin and three other members of the local committee walked round to the prison. the bell tower of the old nunnery had been half shot away by artillery, and is in such a precarious condition that it is proposed to pull it down. but on passing under it we came into a wide courtyard surrounded by two-story whitewashed buildings that seemed scarcely to have suffered at all. we found the refectory in one of these buildings. it was astonishingly clean. there were wooden tables, of course without cloths, and each man had a wooden spoon and a hunk of bread. a great bowl of really excellent soup was put down in the middle of table, and we fell to hungrily enough. i made more mess on the table than any one else, because it requires considerable practice to convey almost boiling soup from a distant bowl to one's mouth without spilling it in a shallow wooden spoon four inches in diameter, and, having got it to one's mouth, to get any of it in without slopping over on either side. the regular diners there seemed to find no difficulty in it at all. one of the prisoners who mopped up after my disasters said i had better join them for a week, when i should find it quite easy. the soup bowl was followed by a fry of potatoes, quantities of which are grown in the district. for dealing with these i found the wooden spoon quite efficient. after that we had glasses of some sort of substitute for tea. the conference was held in the town theatre. there was a hint of comedy in the fact that the orchestra was playing the prelude to some very cheerful opera before the curtain rang up. radek characteristically remarked that such music should be followed by something more sensational than a conference, proposed to me that we should form a tableau to illustrate the new peaceful policy of england with regard to russia. as it was a party conference, i had really no right to be there, but radek had arranged with rostopchin that i should come in with himself, and be allowed to sit in the wings at the side of the stage. on the stage were rostopchin, radek, larin and various members of the communist party committee in the district. everything was ready, but the orchestra went on with its jig music on the other side of the curtain. a message was sent to them. the music stopped with a jerk. the curtain rose, disclosing a crowded auditorium. everybody stood up, both on the stage and in the theater, and sang, accompanied by the orchestra, first the "internationale" and then the song for those who had died for the revolution. then except for two or three politically minded musicians, the orchestra vanished away and the conference began. unlike many of the meetings and conferences at which i have been present in russia, this jaroslavl conference seemed to me to include practically none but men and women who either were or had been actual manual workers. i looked over row after row of faces in the theatre, and could only find two faces which i thought might be jewish, and none that obviously belonged to the "intelligentsia." i found on inquiry that only three of the communists present, excluding radek and larin, were old exiled and imprisoned revolutionaries of the educated class. of these, two were on the platform. all the rest were from the working class. the great majority of them, of course, had joined the communists in , but a dozen or so had been in the party as long as the first russian revolution of . radek, who was tremendously cheered (his long imprisonment in germany, during which time few in russia thought that they would see him alive again, has made him something of a popular hero) made a long, interesting and pugnacious speech setting out the grounds on which the central committee base their ideas about industrial conscription. these ideas are embodied in the series of theses issued by the central committee in january (see p. ). larin, who was very tired after the journey and patently conscious that radek was a formidable opponent, made a speech setting out his reasons for differing with the central committee, and proposed an ingenious resolution, which, while expressing approval of the general position of the committee, included four supplementary modifications which, as a matter of fact, nullified that position altogether. it was then about ten at night, and the conference adjourned. we drove round to the prison in sledges, and by way of supper had some more soup and potatoes, and so back to the railway station to sleep in the cars. next day the conference opened about noon, when there was a long discussion of the points at issue. workman after workman came to the platform and gave his view. some of the speeches were a little naive, as when one soldier said that comrades lenin and trotsky had often before pointed out difficult roads, and that whenever they had been followed they had shown the way to victory, and that therefore, though there was much in the central committee's theses that was hard to digest, he was for giving them complete support, confident that, as comrades lenin and trotsky were in favor of them, they were likely to be right this time, as so often heretofore. but for the most part the speeches were directly concerned with the problem under discussion, and showed a political consciousness which would have been almost incredible three years ago. the red army served as a text for many, who said that the methods which had produced that army and its victories over the whites had been proved successful and should be used to produce a red army of labor and similar victories on the bloodless front against economic disaster. nobody seemed to question the main idea of compulsory labor. the contest that aroused real bitterness was between the methods of individual and collegiate command. the new proposals lead eventually towards individual command, and fears were expressed lest this should mean putting summary powers into the hands of bourgeois specialists, thus nullifying "workers' control". in reply, it was pointed out that individual command had proved necessary in the army and had resulted in victory for the revolution. the question was not between specialists and no specialists. everybody knew that specialists were necessary. the question was how to get the most out of them. effective political control had secured that bourgeois specialists, old officers, led to victory the army of the red republic. the same result could be secured in the factories in the same way. it was pointed out that in one year they had succeeded in training , red commanders, that is to say, officers from the working class itself, and that it was not utopian to hope and work for a similar output of workmen specialists, technically trained, and therefore themselves qualified for individual command in the factories. meanwhile there was nothing against the employment of political commissars in the factories as formerly in the regiments, to control in other than technical matters the doings of the specialists. on the other hand, it was said that the appointment of commissars would tend to make communists unpopular, since inevitably in many cases they would have to support the specialists against the workmen, and that the collegiate system made the workmen feel that they were actually the masters, and so gave possibilities of enthusiastic work not otherwise obtainable. this last point was hotly challenged. it was said that collegiate control meant little in effect, except waste of time and efficiency, because at worst work was delayed by disputes and at best the workmen members of the college merely countersigned the orders decided upon by the specialists. the enthusiastic work was said to be a fairy story. if it were really to be found then there would be no need for a conference to discover how to get it. the most serious opposition, or at least the most serious argument put forward, for there was less opposition than actual discussion, came from some of the representatives of the trade unionists. a good deal was said about the position of the trades unions in a socialist state. there was general recognition that since the trade unions themselves controlled the conditions of labor and wages, the whole of their old work of organizing strikes against capitalists had ceased to have any meaning, since to strike now would be to strike against their own decisions. at the same time, certain tendencies to syndicalism were still in existence, tendencies which might well lead to conflict between different unions, so that, for example, the match makers or the metal worker, might wish to strike a bargain with the state, as of one country with another, and this might easily lead to a complete collapse of the socialist system. the one thing on which the speakers were in complete agreement was the absolute need of an effort in industry equal to, if not greater than, the effort made in the army. i thought it significant that in many of the speeches the importance of this effort was urged as the only possible means of retaining the support of the peasants. there was a tacit recognition that the conference represented town workers only. larin, who had belonged to the old school which had grown up with its eyes on the industrial countries of the west and believed that revolution could be brought about by the town workers alone, that it was exclusively their affair, and that all else was of minor importance, unguardedly spoke of the peasant as "our neighbor." in javoslavl, country and town are too near to allow the main problem of the revolution to be thus easily dismissed. it was instantly pointed out that the relation was much more intimate, and that, even if it were only "neighborly," peace could not long be preserved if it were continually necessary for one neighbor to steal the chickens of the other. these town workers of a district for the most part agricultural were very sure that the most urgent of all tasks was to raise industry to the point at which the town would really be able to supply the village with its needs. larin and radek severally summed up and made final attacks on each other's positions, after which radek's resolution approving the theses of the central committee was passed almost unanimously. larin's four amendments received , , and vote apiece. this result was received with cheering throughout the theater, and showed the importance of such conferences in smoothing the way of the dictatorship, since it had been quite obvious when the discussion began that a very much larger proportion of the delegates than finally voted for his resolution had been more or less in sympathy with larin in his opposition to the central committee. there followed elections to the party conference in moscow. rostopchin, the president, read a list which had been submitted by the various ouyezds in the jaroslavl government. they were to send to moscow fifteen delegates with the right to vote, together with another fifteen with the right to speak but not to vote. larin, who had done much work in the district, was mentioned as one of the fifteen voting delegates, but he stood up and said that as the conference had so clearly expressed its disagreement with his views, he thought it better to withdraw his candidature. rostopchin put it to the conference that although they disagreed with larin, yet it would be as well that he should have the opportunity of stating his views at the all-russian conference, so that discussion there should be as final and as many-sided as possible. the conference expressed its agreement with this. larin withdrew his withdrawal, and was presently elected. the main object of these conferences in unifying opinion and in arming communists with argument for the defence of this unified opinion a mong the masses was again illustrated when the conference, in leaving it to the ouyezds to choose for themselves the non-voting delegates urged them to select wherever possible people who would have the widest opportunities of explaining on their return to the district whatever results might be reached in moscow. it was now pretty late in the evening, and after another very satisfactory visit to the prison we drove back to the station. larin, who was very disheartened, realizing that he had lost much support in the course of the discussion, settled down to work, and buried himself in a mass of statistics. i prepared to go to bed, but we had hardly got into the car when there was a tap at the door and a couple of railwaymen came in. they explained that a few hundred yards away along the line a concert and entertainment arranged by the jaroslavl railwaymen was going on, and that their committee, hearing that radek was at the station, had sent them to ask him to come over and say a few words to them if he were not too tired. "come along," said radek, and we walked in the dark along the railway lines to a big one-story wooden shanty, where an electric lamp lit a great placard, "railwaymen's reading room." we went into a packed hall. every seat was occupied by railway workers and their wives and children. the gangways on either side were full of those who had not found room on the benches. we wriggled and pushed our way through this crowd, who were watching a play staged and acted by the railwaymen themselves, to a side door, through which we climbed up into the wings, and slid across the stage behind the scenery into a tiny dressing-room. here radek was laid hold of by the master of the ceremonies, who, it seemed, was also part editor of a railwaymen's newspaper, and made to give a long account of the present situation of soviet russia's foreign affairs. the little box of a room filled to a solid mass as policemen, generals and ladies of the old regime threw off their costumes, and, in their working clothes, plain signalmen and engine-drivers, pressed round to listen. when the act ended, one of the railwaymen went to the front of the stage and announced that radek, who had lately come back after imprisonment in germany for the cause of revolution, was going to talk to them about the general state of affairs. i saw radek grin at this forecast of his speech. i understood why, when he began to speak. he led off by a direct and furious onslaught on the railway workers in general, demanding work, work and more work, telling them that as the red army had been the vanguard of the revolution hitherto, and had starved and fought and given lives to save those at home from denikin and kolchak, so now it was the turn of the railway workers on whose efforts not only the red army but also the whole future of russia depended. he addressed himself to the women, telling them in very bad russian that unless their men worked superhumanly they would see their babies die from starvation next winter. i saw women nudge their husbands as they listened. instead of giving them a pleasant, interesting sketch of the international position, which, no doubt, was what they had expected, he took the opportunity to tell them exactly how things stood at home. and the amazing thing was that they seemed to be pleased. they listened with extreme attention, wanted to turn out some one who had a sneezing fit at the far end of the hall, and nearly lifted the roof off with cheering when radek had done. i wondered what sort of reception a man would have who in another country interrupted a play to hammer home truths about the need of work into an audience of working men who had gathered solely for the purpose of legitimate recreation. it was not as if he sugared the medicine he gave them. his speech was nothing but demands for discipline and work, coupled with prophecy of disaster in case work and discipline failed. it was delivered like all his speeches, with a strong polish accent and a steady succession of mistakes in grammar. as we walked home along the railway lines, half a dozen of the railwaymen pressed around radek, and almost fought with each other as to who should walk next to him. and radek entirely happy, delighted at his success in giving them a bombshell instead of a bouquet, with one stout fellow on one arm, another on the other, two or three more listening in front and behind, continued rubbing it into them until we reached our wagon, when, after a general handshaking, they disappeared into the night. the trade unions trade unions in russia are in a different position from that which is common to all other trades unions in the world. in other countries the trades unions are a force with whose opposition the government must reckon. in russia the government reckons not on the possible opposition of the trades unions, but on their help for realizing its most difficult measures, and for undermining and overwhelming any opposition which those measures may encounter. the trades unions in russia, instead of being an organization outside the state protecting the interests of a class against the governing class, have become a part of the state organization. since, during the present period of the revolution the backbone of the state organization is the communist party, the trade unions have come to be practically an extension of the party organization. this, of course, would be indignantly denied both by trade unionists and communists. still, in the preface to the all-russian trades union reports for , glebov, one of the best-known trade union leaders whom i remember in the spring of last year objecting to the use of bourgeois specialists in their proper places, admits as much in the following muddleheaded statement:-- "the base of the proletarian dictatorship is the communist party, which in general directs all the political and economic work of the state, leaning, first of all, on the soviets as on the more revolutionary form of dictatorship of the proletariat, and secondly on the trades unions, as organizations which economically unite the proletariat of factory and workshop as the vanguard of the revolution, and as organizations of the new socialistic construction of the state. thus the trade unions must be considered as a base of the soviet state, as an organic form complementary to the other forms of the proletariat dictatorship." these two elaborate sentences constitute an admission of what i have just said. trades unionists of other countries must regard the fate of their russian colleagues with horror or with satisfaction, according to their views of events in russia taken as a whole. if they do not believe that there has been a social revolution in russia, they must regard the present position of the russian trades unions as the reward of a complete defeat of trade unionism, in which a capitalist government has been able to lay violent hands on the organization which was protecting the workers against it. if, on the other hand, they believe that there has been a social revolution, so that the class organized in trades unions is now, identical with the governing, class (of employers, etc.) against which the unions once struggled, then they must regard the present position as a natural and satisfactory result of victory. when i was in moscow in the spring of this year the russian trades unions received a telegram from the trades union congress at amsterdam, a telegram which admirably illustrated the impossibility of separating judgment of the present position of the unions from judgments of the russian revolution as a whole. it encouraged the unions "in their struggle" and promised support in that struggle. the communists immediately asked "what struggle? against the capitalist system in russia which does not exist? or against capitalist systems outside russia?" they said that either the telegram meant this latter only, or it meant that its writers did not believe that there had been a social revolution in russia. the point is arguable. if one believes that revolution is an impossibility, one can reason from that belief and say that in spite of certain upheavals in russia the fundamental arrangement of society is the same there as in other countries, so that the position of the trade unions there must be the same, and, as in other countries they must be still engaged in augmenting the dinners of their members at the expense of the dinners of the capitalists which, in the long run (if that were possible) they would abolish. if, on the other hand, one believes that social revolution has actually occurred, to speak of trades unions continuing the struggle in which they conquered something like three years ago, is to urge them to a sterile fanaticism which has been neatly described by professor santayana as a redoubling of your effort when you have forgotten your aim. it 's probably true that the "aim" of the trades unions was more clearly defined in russia than elsewhere. in england during the greater part of their history the trades unions have not been in conscious opposition to the state. in russia this position was forced on the trades unions almost before they had time to get to work. they were born, so to speak, with red flags in their hands. they grew up under circumstances of extreme difficulty and persecution. from on they were in decided opposition to the existing system, and were revolutionary rather than merely mitigatory organizations. before they were little more than associations for mutual help, very weak, spending most of their energies in self-preservation from the police, and hiding their character as class organizations by electing more or less liberal managers and employers as "honorary members." , however, settled their revolutionary character. in september of that year there was a conference at moscow, where it was decided to call an all-russian trades union congress. reaction in russia made this impossible, and the most they could do was to have another small conference in february, , which, however, defined their object as that of creating a general trade union movement organized on all-russian lines. the temper of the trades unions then, and the condition of the country at that time, may be judged from the fact that although they were merely working for the right to form unions, the right to strike, etc., they passed the following significant resolution: "neither from the present government nor from the future state duma can be expected realization of freedom of coalition. this conference considers the legalization of the trades unions under present conditions absolutely impossible." the conference was right. for twelve years after that there were no trades unions conferences in russia. not until june, , three months after the march revolution, was the third trade union conference able to meet. this conference reaffirmed the revolutionary character of the russian trades unions. at that time the dominant party in the soviets was that of the mensheviks, who were opposed to the formation of a soviet government, and were supporting the provisional cabinet of kerensky. the trades unions were actually at that time more revolutionary than the soviets. this third conference passed several resolutions, which show clearly enough that the present position of the unions has not been brought about by any violence of the communists from without, but was definitely promised by tendencies inside the unions at a time when the communists were probably the least authoritative party in russia. this conference of june, , resolved that the trades unions should not only "remain militant class organizations... but... should support the activities of the soviets of soldiers and deputies." they thus clearly showed on which side they stood in the struggle then proceeding. nor was this all. they also, though the mensheviks were still the dominant party, resolved on that system of internal organizations and grouping, which has been actually realized under the communists. i quote again from the resolution of this conference: "the evolution of the economic struggle demands from the workers such forms of professional organization as, basing themselves on the connection between various groups of workers in the process of production, should unite within a general organization, and under general leadership, as large masses of workers as possible occupied in enterprises of the same kind, or in similar professions. with this object the workers should organize themselves professionally, not by shops or trades, but by productions, so that all the workers of a given enterprise should belong to one union, even if they belong to different professions and even different productions." that which was then no more than a design is now an accurate description of trades union organization in russia. further, much that at present surprises the foreign inquirer was planned and considered desirable then, before the communists had won a majority either in the unions or in the soviet. thus this same third conference resolved that "in the interests of greater efficiency and success in the economic struggle, a professional organization should be built on the principle of democratic centralism, assuring to every member a share in the affairs of the organization and, at the same time, obtaining unity in the leadership of the struggle." finally "unity in the direction (leadership) of the economic struggle demands unity in the exchequer of the trades unions." the point that i wish to make in thus illustrating the pre-communist tendencies of the russian trades unions is not simply that if their present position is undesirable they have only themselves to thank for it, but that in russia the trades union movement before the october revolution was working in the direction of such a revolution, that the events of october represented something like a trade union victory, so that the present position of the unions as part of the organization defending that victory, as part of the system of government set up by that revolution, is logical and was to be expected. i have illustrated this from resolutions, because these give statements in words easily comparable with what has come to pass. it would be equally easy to point to deeds instead of words if we need more forcible though less accurate illustrations. thus, at the time of the moscow congress the soviets, then mensheviks, who were represented at the congress (the object of the congress was to whip up support for the coalition government) were against strikes of protest. the trades unions took a point of view nearer that of the bolsheviks, and the strikes in moscow took place in spite of the soviets. after the kornilov affair, when the mensheviks were still struggling for coalition with the bourgeois parties, the trades unions quite definitely took the bolshevik standpoint. at the so-called democratic conference, intended as a sort of life belt for the sinking provisional government, only eight of the trades union delegates voted for a continuance of the coalition, whereas seventy three voted against. this consciously revolutionary character throughout their much shorter existence has distinguished russian from, for example, english trades unions. it has set their course for them. in october, , they got the revolution for which they had been asking since march. since then, one congress after another has illustrated the natural and inevitable development of trades unions inside a revolutionary state which, like most if not all revolutionary states, is attacked simultaneously by hostile armies from without and by economic paralysis from within. the excited and lighthearted trades unionists of three years ago, who believed that the mere decreeing of "workers' control" would bring all difficulties automatically to an end, are now unrecognizable. we have seen illusion after illusion scraped from them by the pumice-stone of experience, while the appalling state of the industries which they now largely control, and the ruin of the country in which they attained that control, have forced them to alter their immediate aims to meet immediate dangers, and have accelerated the process of adaptation made inevitable by their victory. the process of adaptation has had the natural result of producing new internal cleavages. change after change in their programme and theory of the russian trades unionists has been due to the pressure of life itself, to the urgency of struggling against the worsening of conditions already almost unbearable. it is perfectly natural that those unions which hold back from adaptation and resent the changes are precisely those which, like that of the printers, are not intimately concerned in any productive process, are consequently outside the central struggle, and, while feeling the discomforts of change, do not feel its need. the opposition inside the productive trades unions is of two kinds. there is the opposition, which is of merely psychological interest, of old trades union leaders who have always thought of themselves as in opposition to the government, and feel themselves like watches without mainsprings in their new role of government supporters. these are men in whom a natural intellectual stiffness makes difficult the complete change of front which was the logical result of the revolution for which they had been working. but beside that there is a much more interesting opposition based on political considerations. the menshevik standpoint is one of disbelief in the permanence of the revolution, or rather in the permanence of the victory of the town workers. they point to the divergence in interests between the town and country populations, and are convinced that sooner or later the peasants will alter the government to suit themselves, when, once more, it will be a government against which the town workers will have to defend their interests. the mensheviks object to the identification of the trades unions with the government apparatus on the ground that when this change, which they expect comes about, the trade union movement will be so far emasculated as to be incapable of defending the town workers against the peasants who will then be the ruling class. thus they attack the present trades union leaders for being directly influenced by the government in fixing the rate of wages, on the ground that this establishes a precedent from which, when the change comes, it will be difficult to break away. the communists answer them by insisting that it is to everybody's interest to pull russia through the crisis, and that if the trades unions were for such academic reasons to insist on their complete independence instead of in every possible way collaborating with the government, they would be not only increasing the difficulties of the revolution in its economic crisis, but actually hastening that change which the mensheviks, though they regard it as inevitable, cannot be supposed to desire. this menshevik opposition is strongest in the ukraine. its strength may be judged from the figures of the congress in moscow this spring when, of , delegates, over , were communists or sympathizers with them; were mensheviks and were non-party, the bulk of whom, i fancy, on this point would agree with the mensheviks. but apart from opposition to the "stratification" of the trades unions, there is a cleavage cutting across the communist party itself and uniting in opinion, though not in voting, the mensheviks and a section of their communist opponents. this cleavage is over the question of "workers' control." most of those who, before the revolution, looked forward to the "workers' control", thought of it as meaning that the actual workers in a given factory would themselves control that factory, just as a board of directors controls a factory under the ordinary capitalist system. the communists, i think, even today admit the ultimate desirability of this, but insist that the important question is not who shall give the orders, but in whose interest the orders shall be given. i have nowhere found this matter properly thrashed out, though feeling upon it is extremely strong. everybody whom i asked about it began at once to address me as if i were a public meeting, so that i found it extremely difficult to get from either side a statement not free from electioneering bias. i think, however, that it may be fairly said that all but a few lunatics have abandoned the ideas of , which resulted in the workmen in a factory deposing any technical expert or manager whose orders were in the least irksome to them. these ideas and the miseries and unfairness they caused, the stoppages of work, the managers sewn up in sacks, ducked in ponds and trundled in wheelbarrows, have taken their places as curiosities of history. the change in these ideas has been gradual. the first step was the recognition that the state as a whole was interested in the efficiency of each factory, and, therefore, that the workmen of each factory had no right to arrange things with no thought except for themselves. the committee idea was still strong, and the difficulty was got over by assuring that the technical staff should be represented on the committee, and that the casting vote between workers and technical experts or managers should belong to the central economic organ of the state. the next stage was when the management of a workshop was given a so called "collegiate" character, the workmen appointing representatives to share the responsibility of the "bourgeois specialist." the bitter controversy now going on concerns the seemingly inevitable transition to a later stage in which, for all practical purposes, the bourgeois specialist will be responsible solely to the state. many communists, including some of the best known, while recognizing the need of greater efficiency if the revolution is to survive at all, regard this step as definitely retrograde and likely in the long run to make the revolution not worth preserving. [*] * thus rykov, president of the supreme council of public economy: "there is a possibility of so constructing a state that in it there will be a ruling caste consisting chiefly of administrative engineers, technicians, etc.; that is, we should get a form of state economy based on a small group of a ruling caste whose privilege in this case would be the management of the workers and peasants." that criticism of individual control, from a communist, goes a good deal further than most of the criticism from people avowedly in opposition.] the enormous importance attached by everybody to this question of individual or collegiate control, may be judged from the fact that at every conference i attended, and every discussion to which i listened, this point, which might seem of minor importance, completely overshadowed the question of industrial conscription which, at least inside the communist party, seemed generally taken for granted. it may be taken now as certain that the majority of the communists are in favor of individual control. they say that the object of "workers' control" before the revolution was to ensure that factories should be run in the interests of workers as well of employers. in russia now there are no employers other than the state as a whole, which is exclusively made up of employees. (i am stating now the view of the majority at the last trades union congress at which i was present, april, .) they say that "workers' control" exists in a larger and more efficient manner than was suggested by the old pre-revolutionary statements on that question. further, they say that if workers' control ought to be identified with trade union control, the trades unions are certainly supreme in all those matters with which they have chiefly concerned themselves, since they dominate the commissariat of labor, are very largely represented on the supreme council of public economy, and fix the rates of pay for their own members. [*] * the wages of workmen are decided by the trades unions, who draw up "tariffs" for the whole country, basing their calculations on three criteria: (i) the price of food in the open market in the district where a workman is employed, ( )the price of food supplied by the state on the card system, ( )the quality of the workman. this last is decided by a special section of the factory committee, which in each factory is an organ of the trades union.] the enormous communist majority, together with the fact that however much they may quarrel with each other inside the party, the communists will go to almost any length to avoid breaking the party discipline, means that at present the resolutions of trades union congresses will not be different from those of communists congresses on the same subjects. consequently, the questions which really agitate the members, the actual cleavages inside that communist majority, are comparatively invisible at a trades union congress. they are fought over with great bitterness, but they are not fought over in the hall of the unions-once the club of the nobility, with on its walls on congress days the hammer and spanner of the engineers, the pestle and trowel of the builders, and so on-but in the communist congresses in the kremlin and throughout the country. and, in the problem with which in this book we are mainly concerned, neither the regular business of the unions nor their internal squabbles affects the cardinal fact that in the present crisis the trades unions are chiefly important as part of that organization of human will with which the communists are attempting to arrest the steady progress of russia's economic ruin. putting it brutally, so as to offend trades unionists and communists alike, they are an important part of the communist system of internal propaganda, and their whole organization acts as a gigantic megaphone through which the communist party makes known its fears, its hopes and its decisions to the great masses of the industrial workers. the propaganda trains when i crossed the russian front in october, , the first thing i noticed in peasants' cottages, in the villages, in the little town where i took the railway to moscow, in every railway station along the line, was the elaborate pictorial propaganda concerned with the war. there were posters showing denizen standing straddle over russia's coal, while the factory chimneys were smokeless and the engines idle in the yards, with the simplest wording to show why it was necessary to beat denizen in order to get coal; there were posters illustrating the treatment of the peasants by the whites; posters against desertion, posters illustrating the russian struggle against the rest of the world, showing a workman, a peasant, a sailor and a soldier fighting in self-defence against an enormous capitalistic hydra. there were also-and this i took as a sign of what might be-posters encouraging the sowing of corn, and posters explaining in simple pictures improved methods of agriculture. our own recruiting propaganda during the war, good as that was, was never developed to such a point of excellence, and knowing the general slowness with which the russian centre reacts on its periphery, i was amazed not only at the actual posters, but at their efficient distribution thus far from moscow. i have had an opportunity of seeing two of the propaganda trains, the object of which is to reduce the size of russia politically by bringing moscow to the front and to the out of the way districts, and so to lessen the difficulty of obtaining that general unity of purpose which it is the object of propaganda to produce. the fact that there is some hope that in the near future the whole of this apparatus may be turned over to the propaganda of industry makes it perhaps worth while to describe these trains in detail. russia, for purposes of this internal propaganda, is divided into five sections, and each section has its own train, prepared for the particular political needs of the section it serves, bearing its own name, carrying its regular crew-a propaganda unit, as corporate as the crew of a ship. the five trains at present in existence are the "lenin," the "sverdlov," the "october revolution," the "red east," which is now in turkestan, and the "red cossack," which, ready to start for rostov and the don, was standing, in the sidings at the kursk station, together with the "lenin," returned for refitting and painting. burov, the organizer of these trains, a ruddy, enthusiastic little man in patched leather coat and breeches, took a party of foreigners-a swede, a norwegian, two czechs, a german and myself to visit his trains, together with radek, in the hope that radek would induce lenin to visit them, in which case lenin would be kinematographed for the delight of the villagers, and possibly the central committee would, if lenin were interested, lend them more lively support. we walked along the "lenin" first, at burov's special request. burov, it seems, has only recently escaped from what he considered a bitter affliction due to the department of proletarian culture, who, in the beginning, for the decoration of his trains, had delivered him bound hand and foot to a number of futurists. for that reason he wanted us to see the "lenin" first, in order that we might compare it with the result of his emancipation, the "red cossack," painted when the artists "had been brought under proper control." the "lenin" had been painted a year and a half ago, when, as fading hoarding in the streets of moscow still testify, revolutionary art was dominated by the futurist movement. every carriage is decorated with most striking but not very comprehensible pictures in the brightest colors, and the proletariat was called upon to enjoy what the pre-revolutionary artistic public had for the most part failed to understand. its pictures are "art for art's sake," and cannot have done more than astonish, and perhaps terrify, the peasants and the workmen of the country towns who had the luck to see them. the "red cossack" is quite different. as burov put it with deep satisfaction, "at first we were in the artists' hands, and now the artists are in our hands," a sentence suggesting the most horrible possibilities of official art under socialism, although, of course, bad art flourishes pretty well even under other systems. i inquired exactly how burov and his friends kept the artists in the right way, and received the fullest explanation. the political section of the organization works out the main idea and aim for each picture, which covers the whole side of a wagon. this idea is then submitted to a "collective" of artists, who are jointly responsible for its realization in paint. the artists compete with each other for a prize which is awarded for the best design, the judges being the artists themselves. it is the art of the poster, art with a purpose of the most definite kind. the result is sometimes amusing, interesting, startling, but, whatever else it does, hammers home a plain idea. thus the picture on the side of one wagon is divided into two sections. on the left is a representation of the peasants and workmen of the soviet republic. under it are the words, "let us not find ourselves again..." and then, in gigantic lettering under the right-hand section of the picture, "... in the heaven of the whites." this heaven is shown by an epauletted officer hitting a soldier in the face, as was done in the tsar's army and in at least one army of the counter revolutionaries, and workmen tied to stakes, as was done by the whites in certain towns in the south. then another wagon illustrating the methods of tsardom, with a state vodka shop selling its wares to wretched folk, who, when drunk on the state vodka, are flogged by the state police. then there is a wagon showing the different cossacks-of the don, terek, kuban, ural-riding in pairs. the cossack infantry is represented on the other side of this wagon. on another wagon is a very jolly picture of stenka razin in his boat with little old-fashioned brass cannon, rowing up the river. underneath is written the words: "i attack only the rich, with the poor i divide everything." on one side are the poor folk running from their huts to join him, on the other the rich folk firing at him from their castle. one wagon is treated purely decoratively, with a broad effective characteristically south russian design, framing a huge inscription to the effect that the cossacks need not fear that the soviet republic will interfere with their religion, since under its regime every man is to be free to believe exactly what he likes. then there is an entertaining wagon, showing kolchak sitting inside a fence in siberia with a red soldier on guard, judenitch sitting in a little circle with a sign-post to show it is esthonia, and denikin running at full speed to the asylum indicated by another sign-post on which is the crescent of the turkish empire. another lively picture shows the young cossack girls learning to read, with a most realistic old cossack woman telling them they had better not. but there is no point in describing every wagon. there are sixteen wagons in the "red cossack," and every one is painted all over on both sides. the internal arrangements of the train are a sufficient proof that russians are capable of organization if they set their minds to it. we went through it, wagon by wagon. one wagon contains a wireless telegraphy station capable of receiving news from such distant stations as those of carnarvon or lyons. another is fitted up as a newspaper office, with a mechanical press capable of printing an edition of fifteen thousand daily, so that the district served by the train, however out of the way, gets its news simultaneously with moscow, many days sometimes before the belated izvestia or pravda finds its way to them. and with its latest news it gets its latest propaganda, and in order to get the one it cannot help getting the other. next door to that there is a kinematograph wagon, with benches to seat about one hundred and fifty persons. but indoor performances are only given to children, who must come during the daytime, or in summer when the evenings are too light to permit an open air performance. in the ordinary way, at night, a great screen is fixed up in the open. there is a special hole cut in the side of the wagon, and through this the kinematograph throws its picture on the great screen outside, so that several thousands can see it at once. the enthusiastic burov insisted on working through a couple of films for us, showing the communists boy scouts in their country camps, children's meetings in petrograd, and the big demonstrations of last year in honor of the third international. he was extremely disappointed that radek, being in a hurry, refused to wait for a performance of "the father and his son," a drama which, he assured us with tears in his eyes, was so thrilling that we should not regret being late for our appointments if we stayed to witness it. another wagon is fitted up as an electric power-station, lighting the train, working the kinematograph and the printing machine, etc. then there is a clean little kitchen and dining-room, where, before being kinematographed-a horrible experience when one is first quite seriously begged (of course by burov) to assume an expression of intelligent interest--we had soup, a plate of meat and cabbage, and tea. then there is a wagon bookshop, where, while customers buy books, a gramophone sings the revolutionary songs of demian bledny, or speaks with the eloquence of trotsky or the logic of lenin. other wagons are the living-rooms of the personnel, divided up according to their duties-political, military, instructional, and so forth. for the train has not merely an agitational purpose. it carries with it a staff to give advice to local authorities, to explain what has not been understood, and so in every way to bring the ideas of the centre quickly to the backwoods of the republic. it works also in the opposite direction, helping to make the voice of the backwoods heard at moscow. this is illustrated by a painted pillar-box on one of the wagons, with a slot for letters, labelled, "for complaints of every kind." anybody anywhere who has grievance, thinks he is being unfairly treated, or has a suggestion to make, can speak with the centre in this way. when the train is on a voyage telegrams announce its arrival beforehand, so that the local soviets can make full use of its advantages, arranging meetings, kinematograph shows, lectures. it arrives, this amazing picture train, and proceeds to publish and distribute its newspapers, sell its books (the bookshop, they tell me, is literally stormed at every stopping place), send books and posters for forty versts on either side of the line with the motor-cars which it carries with it, and enliven the population with its kinematograph. i doubt if a more effective instrument of propaganda has ever been devised. and in considering the question whether or no the russians will be able after organizing their military defence to tackle with similar comparative success the much more difficult problem of industrial rebirth, the existence of such instruments, the use of such propaganda is a factor not to be neglected. in the spring of this year, when the civil war seemed to be ending, when there was a general belief that the poles would accept the peace that russia offered (they ignored this offer, advanced, took kiev, were driven back to warsaw, advanced again, and finally agreed to terms which they could have had in march without bloodshed any kind), two of these propaganda trains were already being repainted with a new purpose. it was hoped that in the near future all five trains would be explaining not the need to fight but the need to work. undoubtedly, at the first possible moment, the whole machinery of agitation, of posters, of broadsheets and of trains, will be turned over to the task of explaining the government's plans for reconstruction, and the need for extraordinary concentration, now on transport, now on something else, that these plans involve. saturdayings so much for the organization, with its communist party, its system of meetings and counter-meetings, its adapted trades unions, its infinitely various propaganda, which is doing its best to make headway against ruin. i want now to describe however briefly, the methods it has adopted in tackling the worst of all russia's problems-the non-productivity and absolute shortage of labor. i find a sort of analogy between these methods and those which we used in england in tackling the similar cumulative problem of finding men for war. just as we did not proceed at once to conscription, but began by a great propaganda of voluntary effort, so the communists, faced with a need at least equally vital, did not turn at once to industrial conscription. it was understood from the beginning that the communists themselves were to set an example of hard work, and i dare say a considerable proportion of them did so. every factory had its little communist committee, which was supposed to leaven the factory with enthusiasm, just as similar groups of communists drafted into the armies in moments of extreme danger did, on more than one occasion, as the non-communist commander-in-chief admits, turn a rout into a stand and snatch victory from what looked perilously like defeat. but this was not enough, arrears of work accumulated, enthusiasm waned, productivity decreased, and some new move was obviously necessary. this first move in the direction of industrial conscription, although no one perceived its tendency at the time, was the inauguration of what have become known as "saturdayings". early in the central committee of the communist party put out a circular letter, calling upon the communists "to work revolutionally," to emulate in the rear the heroism of their brothers on the front, pointing out that nothing but the most determined efforts and an increase in the productivity of labor would enable russia to win through her difficulties of transport, etc. kolchak, to quote from english newspapers, was it "sweeping on to moscow," and the situation was pretty threatening. as a direct result of this letter, on may th, a meeting of communists in the sub-district of the moscow-kazan railway passed a resolution that, in view of the imminent danger to the republic, communists and their sympathizers should give up an hour a day of their leisure, and, lumping these hours together, do every saturday six hours of manual labor; and, further, that these communist "saturdayings" should be continued "until complete victory over kolchak should be assured." that decision of a local committee was the actual beginning of a movement which spread all over russia, and though the complete victory over kolchak was long ago obtained, is likely to continue so long as soviet russia is threatened by any one else. the decision was put into effect on may th, when the first communist "saturdaying" in russia took place on the moscow-kazan railway. the commissar of the railway, communist clerks from the offices, and every one else who wished to help, marched to work, in all, and put in , hours of manual labor, in which they finished the repairs of four locomotives and sixteen wagons and loaded and unloaded , poods of engine and wagon parts and material. it was found that the productivity of labor in loading and unloading shown on this occasion was about per cent. of the normal, and a similar superiority of effort was shown in the other kinds of work. this example was immediately copied on other railways. the alexandrovsk railway had its first "saturdaying" on may th. ninety-eight persons worked for five hours, and here also did two or three times as much is the usual amount of work done in the same number of working hours under ordinary circumstances. one of the workmen, in giving an account of the performance, wrote: "the comrades explain this by saying that in ordinary times the work was dull and they were sick of it, whereas this occasion they were working willingly and with excitement. but now it will be shameful in ordinary hours to do less than in the communist 'saturdaying.'" the hope implied in this last sentence has not been realized. in pravda of june th there is an article describing one of these early "saturdayings," which gives a clear picture of the infectious character of the proceedings, telling how people who came out of curiosity to look on found themselves joining in the work, and how a soldier with an accordion after staring for a long time open-mouthed at these lunatics working on a saturday afternoon put up a tune for them on his instrument, and, delighted by their delight, played on while the workers all sang together. the idea of the "saturdayings" spread quickly from railways to factories, and by the middle of the summer reports of similar efforts were coming from all over russia. then lenin became interested, seeing in these "saturdayings" not only a special effort in the face of common danger, but an actual beginning of communism and a sign that socialism could bring about a greater productivity of labor than could be obtained under capitalism. he wrote: "this is a work of great difficulty and requiring much time, but it has begun, and that is the main thing. if in hungry moscow in the summer of hungry workmen who have lived through the difficult four years of the imperialistic war, and then the year and a half of the still more difficult civil war, have been able to begin this great work, what will not be its further development when we conquer in the civil war and win peace." he sees in it a promise of work being done not for the sake of individual gain, but because of a recognition that such work is necessary for the general good, and in all he wrote and spoke about it he emphasized the fact that people worked better and harder when working thus than under any of the conditions (piece-work, premiums for good work, etc.) imposed by the revolution in its desperate attempts to raise the productivity of labor. for this reason alone, he wrote, the first "saturdaying" on the moscow-kazan railway was an event of historical significance, and not for russia alone. whether lenin was right or wrong in so thinking, "saturdayings" became a regular institution, like dorcas meetings in victorian england, like the thousands of collective working parties instituted in england during the war with germany. it remains to be seen how long they will continue, and if they will survive peace when that comes. at present the most interesting point about them is the large proportion of non-communists who take an enthusiastic part in them. in many cases not more than ten per cent. of communists are concerned, though they take the initiative in organizing the parties and in finding the work to be done. the movement spread like fire in dry grass, like the craze for roller-skating swept over england some years ago, and efforts were made to control it, so that the fullest use might be made of it. in moscow it was found worth while to set up a special bureau for "saturdayings." hospitals, railways, factories, or any other concerns working for the public good, notify this bureau that they need the sort of work a "saturdaying" provides. the bureau informs the local communists where their services are required, and thus there is a minimum of wasted energy. the local communists arrange the "saturdayings," and any one else joins in who wants. these "saturdayings" are a hardship to none because they are voluntary, except for members of the communist party, who are considered to have broken the party discipline if they refrain. but they can avoid the "saturdayings" if they wish to by leaving the party. indeed, lenin points, out that the "saturdayings" are likely to assist in clearing out of the party those elements which joined it with the hope of personal gain. he points out that the privileges of a communists now consist in doing more work than other people in the rear, and, on the front, in having the certainty of being killed when other folk are merely taken prisoners. the following are a few examples of the sort of work done in the "saturdayings." briansk hospitals were improperly heated because of lack of the local transport necessary to bring them wood. the communists organized a "saturdaying," in which persons took part, including military specialists (officers of the old army serving in the new), soldiers, a chief of staff, workmen and women. having no horses, they harnessed themselves to sledges in groups of ten, and brought in the wood required. at nijni persons spent their saturday afternoon in unloading barges. in the basman district of moscow there was a gigantic "saturdaying" and "sundaying" in which , persons (in this case all but a little over being communists) worked in the heavy artillery shops, shifting materials, cleaning tramlines for bringing in fuel, etc. then there was a "saturdaying" the main object of which was a general autumn cleaning of the hospitals for the wounded. one form of "saturdaying" for women is going to the hospitals, talking with the wounded and writing letters for them, mending their clothes, washing sheets, etc. the majority of "saturdayings" at present are concerned with transport work and with getting and shifting wood, because at the moment these are the chief difficulties. i have talked to many "saturdayers," communist and non-communist, and all alike spoke of these saturday afternoons of as kind of picnic. on the other hand, i have met communists who were accustomed to use every kind off ingenuity to find excuses not to take part in them and yet to preserve the good opinion of their local committee. but even if the whole of the communist party did actually indulge in a working picnic once a week, it would not suffice to meet russia's tremendous needs. and, as i pointed out in the chapter specially devoted to the shortage of labor, the most serious need at present is to keep skilled workers at their jobs instead of letting them drift away into non-productive labor. no amount of saturday picnics could do that, and it was obvious long ago that some other means, would have to be devised. industrial conscription the general principle of industrial conscription recognized by the russian constitution, section ii, chapter v, paragraph , which reads: "the russian socialist federate soviet republic recognizes that work is an obligation on every citizen of the republic," and proclaims, "he who does not work shall not eat." it is, however, one thing to proclaim such a principle and quite another to put it into action. on december , , the moment it became clear that there was a real possibility that the civil war was drawing to an end, trotsky allowed the pravda to print a memorandum of his, consisting of "theses" or reasoned notes about industrial conscription and the militia system. he points out that a socialist state demands a general plan for the utilization of all the resources of a country, including its human energy. at the same time, "in the present economic chaos in which are mingled the broken fragments of the past and the beginnings of the future," a sudden jump to a complete centralized economy of the country as a whole is impossible. local initiative, local effort must not be sacrificed for the sake of a plan. at the same time industrial conscription is necessary for complete socialization. it cannot be regardless of individuality like military conscription. he suggests a subdivision of the state into territorial productive districts which should coincide with the territorial districts of the militia system which shall replace the regular army. registration of labor necessary. necessary also to coordinate military and industrial registration. at demobilization the cadres of regiments, divisions, etc., should form the fundamental cadres of the militia. instruction to this end should be included in the courses for workers and peasants who are training to become officers in every district. transition to the militia system must be carefully and gradually accomplished so as not for a moment to leave the republic defenseless. while not losing sight of these ultimate aims, it is necessary to decide on immediate needs and to ascertain exactly what amount of labor is necessary for their limited realization. he suggests the registration of skilled labor in the army. he suggests that a commission under general direction of the council of public economy should work out a preliminary plan and then hand it over to the war department, so that means should be worked out for using the military apparatus for this new industrial purpose. trotsky's twenty-four theses or notes must have been written in odd moments, now here now there, on the way from one front to another. they do not form a connected whole. contradictions jostle each other, and it is quite clear that trotsky himself had no very definite plan in his head. but his notes annoyed and stimulated so many other people that they did perhaps precisely the work they were intended to do. pravada printed them with a note from the editor inviting discussion. the ekonomitcheskaya jizn printed letter after letter from workmen, officials and others, attacking, approving and bringing new suggestions. larin, semashko, pyatakov, bucharin all took a hand in the discussion. larin saw in the proposals the beginning of the end of the revolution, being convinced that authority would pass from the democracy of the workers into the hands of the specialists. rykov fell upon them with sturdy blows on behalf of the trades unions. all, however, agreed on the one point--that something of the sort was necessary. on december th a commission for studying the question of industrial conscription was formed under the presidency of trotsky. this commission included the people's commissars, or ministers, of labor, ways of communication, supply, agriculture, war, and the presidents of the central council of the trades unions and of the supreme council of public economy. they compiled a list of the principal questions before them, and invited anybody interested to bring them suggestions and material for discussion. but the discussion was not limited to the newspapers or to this commission. the question was discussed in soviets and conferences of every kind all over the country. thus, on january st an all-russian conference of local "departments for the registration and distribution of labor," after prolonged argument, contributed their views. they pointed out ( ) the need of bringing to work numbers of persons who instead of doing the skilled labor for which they were qualified were engaged in petty profiteering, etc.; ( ) that there evaporation of skilled labor into unproductive speculation could at least be checked by the introduction of labor books, which would give some sort of registration of each citizen's work; ( ) that workmen can be brought back from the villages only for enterprises which are supplied with provisions or are situated in districts where there is plenty. ("the opinion that, in the absence of these preliminary conditions, it will be possible to draw workmen from the villages by measures of compulsion or mobilization is profoundly mistaken.") ( ) that there should be a census of labor and that the trades unions should be invited to protect the interests of the conscripted. finally, this conference approved the idea of using the already existing military organization for carrying out a labor census of the red army, and for the turning over to labor of parts of the army during demobilization, but opposed the idea of giving the military organization the work of labor registration and industrial conscription in general. on january , , the central committee of the communist party, after prolonged discussion of trotsky's rough memorandum, finally adopted and published a new edition of the "theses," expanded, altered, almost unrecognizable, a reasoned body of theory entirely different from the bundle of arrows loosed at a venture by trotsky. they definitely accepted the principle of industrial conscription, pointing out the immediate reasons for it in the fact that russia cannot look for much help from without and must somehow or other help herself. long before the all-russian congress of the communist party approved the theses of the committee, one form of industrial conscription was already being tested at work. very early in january, when the discussion on the subject was at its height, the soviet of the third army addressed itself to the council of defense of the republic with an invitation to make use of this army (which at least for the moment had finished its military task) and to experiment with it as a labor army. the council of defense agreed. representatives of the commissariats of supply, agriculture, ways and communications, labor and the supreme council of public economy were sent to assist the army soviet. the army was proudly re-named "the first revolutionary army of labor," and began to issue communiques "from the labor front," precisely like the communiques of an army in the field. i translate as a curiosity the first communique issued by a labor army's soviet: "wood prepared in the districts of ishim, karatulskaya, omutinskaya, zavodoutovskaya, yalutorovska, iushaly, kamuishlovo, turinsk, altynai, oshtchenkovo, shadrinsk, , cubic sazhins. working days, , . taken to the railway stations, , cubic sazhins. working days on transport, , . one hundred carpenters detailed for the kizelovsk mines. one hundred carpenters detailed for the bridge at ufa. one engineer specialist detailed to the government council of public economy for repairing the mills of chelyabinsk government. one instructor accountant detailed for auditing the accounts of the economic organizations of kamuishlov. repair of locomotives proceeding in the works at ekaterinburg. january , , midnight." the labor army's soviet received a report on the state of the district covered by the army with regard to supply and needed work. by the end of january it had already carried out a labor census of the army, and found that it included over , laborers, of whom a considerable number were skilled. it decided on a general plan of work in reestablishing industry in the urals, which suffered severely during the kolchak regime and the ebb and flow of the civil war, and was considering a suggestion of one of its members that if the scheme worked well the army should be increased to , men by way of mobilization. on january rd the council of defense of the republic, encouraged to proceed further, decided to make use of the reserve army for the improvement of railway transport on the moscow-kazan railway, one of the chief arteries between eastern food districts and moscow. the main object is to be the reestablishment of through traffic between moscow and ekaterinburg and the repair of the kazan-ekaterinburg line, which particularly suffered during the war. an attempt was to be made to rebuild the bridge over the kama river before the ice melts. the commander of the reserve army was appointed commissar of the eastern part of the moscow-kazan railway, retaining his position as commander of the army. with a view of coordination between the army soviet and the railway authorities, a member of the soviet was also appointed commissar of the railway. on january th it was announced that a similar experiment was being made in the ukraine. a month before the ice broke the first train actually crossed the kama river by the rebuilt bridge. by april of this year the organization of industrial conscription had gone far beyond the original labor armies. a decree of february th had created a chief labor committee, consisting of five members, serebryakov and danilov, from the commissariat of war; vasiliev, from the commissariat of the interior; anikst, from the commissariat of labor; dzerzhinsky, from the commissariat of internal affairs. dzerzhinsky was president, and his appointment was possibly made in the hope that the reputation he had won as president of the extraordinary committee for fighting counter-revolution would frighten people into taking this committee seriously. throughout the country in each government or province similar committees, called "troikas," were created, each of three members, one from the commissariat of war, one from the department of labor, one from the department of management, in each case from the local commissariats and departments attached to the local soviet. representatives of the central statistical office and its local organs had a right to be present at the meeting of these committees of three, or "troikas," but had not the right to vote. an organization or a factory requiring labor, was to apply to the labor department of the local soviet. this department was supposed to do its best to satisfy demands upon it by voluntary methods first. if these proved insufficient they were to apply to the local "troika," or labor conscription committee. if this found that its resources also were insufficient, it was to refer back the request to the labor department of the soviet, which was then to apply to its corresponding department in the government soviet, which again, first voluntarily and then through the government committee of labor conscription, was to try to satisfy the demands. i fancy the object of this arrangement was to prevent local "troikas" from referring to government "troikas," and so directly to dzerzhinsky's central committee. if they had been able to do this there would obviously have been danger lest a new network of independent and powerful organizations should be formed. experience with the overgrown and insuppressible committees for fighting counter-revolution had taught people how serious such a development might be. such was the main outline of the scheme for conscripting labor. a similar scheme was prepared for superintending and safeguarding labor when conscripted. in every factory of over , workmen, clerks, etc., there was formed a commission (to distinguish it from the committee) of industrial conscription. smaller factories shared such commissions or were joined for the purpose to larger factories near by. these commissions were to be under the direct control of a factory committee, thereby preventing squabbles between conscripted and non-conscripted labor. they were to be elected for six months, but their members could be withdrawn and replaced by the factory committee with the approval of the local "troika." these commissions, like the "troikas," consisted of three members: ( ) from the management of the factory, ( ) from the factory committee, ( ) from the executive committee of the workers. (it was suggested in the directions that one of these should be from the group which "has been organizing 'saturdayings,' that is to say that he or she should be a communist.) the payment of conscripted workers was to be by production, with prizes for specially good work. specially bad work was also foreseen in the detailed scheme of possible punishments. offenders were to be brought before the "people's court" (equivalent to the ordinary civil court), or, in the case of repeated or very bad offenses, were to be brought before the far more dreaded revolutionary tribunals. six categories of possible offenses were placed upon the new code: ( )avoiding registration, absenteeism, or desertion. ( )the preparation of false documents or the use of such. ( )officials giving false information to facilitate these crimes. ( )purposeful damage of instruments or material. ( )uneconomical or careless work. ( )(probably the most serious of all: instigation to any of these actions. the "troikas" have the right to deal administratively with the less important crimes by deprival of freedom for not more than two weeks. no one can be brought to trial except by the committee for industrial conscription on the initiative of the responsible director of work, and with the approval either of the local labor inspection authorities or with that of the local executive committee. no one with the slightest knowledge of russia will suppose for a moment that this elaborate mechanism sprang suddenly into existence when the decree was signed. on the contrary, all stages of industrial conscription exist simultaneously even today, and it would be possible by going from one part of russia to another to collect a series of specimens of industrial conscription at every stage of evolution, just as one can collect all stages of man from a baboon to a company director or a communist. some of the more primitive kinds of conscription were not among the least successful. for example, at the time (in the spring of the year) when the russians still hoped that the poles would be content with the huge area of non-polish territory they had already seized, the army on the western front was without any elaborate system of decrees being turned into a labor army. the work done was at first ordinary country work, mainly woodcutting. they tried to collaborate with the local "troikas," sending help when these committees asked for it. this, however, proved unsatisfactory, so, disregarding the "troikas," they organized things for themselves in the whole area immediately behind the front. they divided up the forests into definite districts, and they worked these with soldiers and with deserters. gradually their work developed, and they built themselves narrow-gauge railways for the transport of the wood. then they needed wagons and locomotives, and of course immediately found themselves at loggerheads with the railway authorities. finally, they struck a bargain with the railwaymen, and were allowed to take broken-down wagons which the railway people were not in a position to mend. using such skilled labor as they had, they mended such wagons as were given them, and later made a practice of going to the railway yards and in inspecting "sick" wagons for themselves, taking out any that they thought had a chance even of temporary convalescence. incidentally they caused great scandal by finding in the smolensk sidings among the locomotives and wagons supposed to be sick six good locomotives and seventy perfectly healthy wagons. then they began to improve the feeding of their army by sending the wood they had cut, in the trains they had mended, to people who wanted wood and could give them provisions. one such train went to turkestan and back from the army near smolensk. their work continually increased, and since they had to remember that they were an army and not merely a sort of nomadic factory, they began themselves to mobilize, exclusively for purposes of work, sections of the civil population. i asked unshlicht, who had much to do with this organization, if the peasants came willingly. he said, "not very," but added that they did not mind when they found that they got well fed and were given packets of salt as prizes for good work. "the peasants," he said, "do not grumble against the government when it shows the sort of common sense that they themselves can understand. we found that when we said definitely how many carts and men a village must provide, and used them without delay for a definite purpose, they were perfectly satisfied and considered it right and proper. in every case, however, when they saw people being mobilized and sent thither without obvious purpose or result, they became hostile at once." i asked unshlicht how it was that their army still contained skilled workmen when one of the objects of industrial conscription was to get the skilled workmen back into the factories. he said: "we have an accurate census of the army, and when we get asked for skilled workmen for such and such a factory, they go there knowing that they still belong to the army." that, of course, is the army point of view, and indicates one of the main squabbles which industrial conscription has produced. trotsky would like the various armies to turn into units of a territorial militia, and at the same time to be an important part of the labor organization of each district. his opponents do not regard the labor armies as a permanent manifestation, and many have gone so far as to say that the productivity of labor in one of these armies is lower than among ordinary workmen. both sides produce figures on this point, and trotsky goes so far as to say that if his opponents are right, then not only are labor armies damned, but also the whole principle of industrial conscription. "if compulsory labor-independently of social condition-is unproductive, that is a condemnation not of the labor armies, but of industrial conscription in general, and with it of the whole soviet system, the further development of which is unthinkable except on a basis of universal industrial conscription." but, of course, the question of the permanence of the labor armies is not so important as the question of getting the skilled workers back to the factories. the comparative success or failure of soldiers or mobilized peasants in cutting wood is quite irrelevant to this recovery of the vanished workmen. and that recovery will take time, and will be entirely useless unless it is possible to feed these workers when they have been collected. there have already been several attempts, not wholly successful, to collect the straying workers of particular industries. thus, after the freeing of the oil-wells from the whites, there was a general mobilization of naphtha workers. many of these had bolted on or after the arrival of krasnov or denikin and gone far into central russia, settling where they could. so months passed before the red army definitely pushed the area of civil war beyond the oil-wells, that many of these refugees had taken new root and were unwilling to return. i believe, that in spite of the mobilization, the oil-wells are still short of men. in the coal districts also, which have passed through similar experiences, the proportion of skilled to unskilled labor is very much smaller than it was before the war. there have also been two mobilizations of railway workers, and these, i think, may be partly responsible for the undoubted improvement noticeable during the year, although this is partly at least due to other things beside conscription. in the first place trotsky carried with him into the commissariat of transport the same ferocious energy that he has shown in the commissariat of war, together with the prestige that he had gained there. further, he was well able in the councils of the republic to defend the needs of his particular commissariat against those of all others. he was, for example able to persuade the communist party to treat the transport crisis precisely as they had treated each crisis on the front-that is to say, to mobilize great numbers of professed communists to meet it, giving them in this case the especial task of getting engines mended and, somehow or other, of keeping trains on the move. but neither the bridges mended and the wood cut by the labor armies, nor the improvement in transport, are any final proof of the success of industrial conscription. industrial conscription in the proper sense of the words is impossible until a government knows what it has to conscript. a beginning was made early this year by the introduction of labor books, showing what work people were doing and where, and serving as a kind of industrial passports. but in april this year these had not yet become general in moscow although the less unwieldy population of petrograd was already supplied with them. it will be long even if it is possible at all, before any considerable proportion of the people not living in these two cities are registered in this way. a more useful step was taken at the end of august, in a general census throughout russia. there has been no russian census since . there was to have been another about the time the war began. it was postponed for obvious reasons. if the communists carry through the census with even moderate success (they will of course have to meet every kind of evasion), they will at least get some of the information without which industrial conscription on a national scale must be little more than a farce. the census should show them where the skilled workers are. industrial conscription should enable them to collect them and put them at their own skilled work. then if, besides transplanting them, they are able to feed them, it will be possible to judge of the success or failure of a scheme which in most countries would bring a government toppling to the ground. "in most countries"; yes, but then the economic crisis has gone further in russia than in most countries. there is talk of introducing industrial conscription (one year's service) in germany, where things have not gone nearly so far. and perhaps industrial conscription, like communism itself, becomes a thing of desperate hope only in a country actually face to face with ruin. i remember saying to trotsky, when talking of possible opposition, that i, as an englishman, with the tendencies to practical anarchism belonging to my race, should certainly object most strongly if i were mobilized and set to work in a particular factory, and might even want to work in some other factory just for the sake of not doing what i was forced to do. trotsky replied: "you would now. but you would not if you had been through a revolution, and seen your country in such a state that only the united, concentrated effort of everybody could possibly reestablish it. that is the position here. everybody knows the position and that there is no other way." what the communists are trying to do in russia we come now to the communist plans for reconstruction. we have seen, in the first two chapters, something of the appalling paralysis which is the most striking factor in the economic problem to-day. we have seen how russia is suffering from a lack of things and from a lack of labor, how these two shortages react on each other, and how nothing but a vast improvement in transport can again set in motion what was one of the great food-producing machines of the world. we have also seen something of the political organization which, with far wider ambitions before it, is at present struggling to prevent temporary paralysis from turning into permanent atrophy. we have seen that it consists of a political party so far dominant that the trades unions and all that is articulate in the country may be considered as part of a machinery of propaganda, for getting those things done which that political party considers should be done. in a country fighting, literally, for its life, no man can call his soul his own, and we have seen how this fact-a fact that has become obvious again and again in the history of the world, whenever a nation has had its back to the wall-is expressed in russia in terms of industrial conscription; in measures, that is to say, which would be impossible in any country not reduced to such extremities; in measures which may prove to be the inevitable accompaniment of national crisis, when such crisis is economic rather than military. let us now see what the russians, with that machinery at their disposal are trying to do. it is obvious that since this machinery is dominated by a political party, it will be impossible to understand the russian plans, without understanding that particular political party's estimate of the situation in general. it is obvious that the communist plans for russia must be largely affected by their view of europe as a whole. this view is gloomy in the extreme. the communists believe that europe is steadily shaking itself to pieces. they believe that this process has already gone so far that, even given good will on the part of european governments, the manufacturers of western countries are already incapable of supplying them with all the things which russia was importing before the war, still less make up the enormous arrears which have resulted from six years of blockade. they do not agree with m. clemenceau that "revolution is a disease attacking defeated countries only." or, to put it as i have heard it stated in moscow, they believe that president wilson's aspiration towards a peace in which should be neither conqueror nor conquered has been at least partially realized in the sense that every country ended the struggle economically defeated, with the possible exception of america, whose signature, after all, is still to be ratified. they believe that even in seemingly prosperous countries the seeds of economic disaster are already fertilized. they think that the demands of labor will become greater and more difficult to fulfill until at last they become incompatible with a continuance of the capitalist system. they think that strike after strike, irrespective of whether it is successful or not, will gradually widen the cracks and flaws already apparent in the damaged economic structure of western europe. they believe that conflicting interests will involve our nations in new national wars, and that each of these will deepen the cleavage between capital and labor. they think that even if exhaustion makes mutual warfare on a large scale impossible, these conflicting interests will produce such economic conflicts, such refusals of cooperation, as will turn exhaustion to despair. they believe, to put it briefly, that russia has passed through the worst stages of a process to which every country in europe will be submitted in turn by its desperate and embittered inhabitants. we may disagree with them, but we shall not understand them if we refuse to take that belief into account. if, as they imagine, the next five years are to be years of disturbance and growing resolution, russia will get very little from abroad. if, for example, there is to be a serious struggle in england, russia will get practically nothing. they not only believe that these things are going to be, but make the logical deductions as to the effect of such disturbances on their own chances of importing what they need. for example, lenin said to me that "the shock of revolution in england would ensure the final defeat of capitalism," but he said at the same time that it would be felt at once throughout the world and cause such reverberations as would paralyze industry everywhere. and that is why, although russia is an agricultural country, the communist plans for her reconstruction are concerned first of all not with agriculture, but with industry. in their schemes for the future of the world, russia's part is that of a gigantic farm, but in their schemes for the immediate future of russia, their eyes are fixed continually on the nearer object of making her so far self-supporting that, even if western europe is unable to help them, they may be able to crawl out of their economic difficulties, as krassin put it to me before he left moscow, "if necessary on all fours, but somehow or other, crawl out." some idea of the larger ambitions of the communists with regard to the development of russia are given in a conversation with rykov, which follows this chapter. the most important characteristic of them is that they are ambitions which cannot but find an echo in russians of any kind, quite regardless of their political convictions. the old anomalies of russian industry, for example, the distances of the industrial districts from their sources of fuel and raw material are to be done away with. these anomalies were largely due to historical accidents, such as the caprice of peter the great, and not to any economic reasons. the revolution, destructive as it has been, has at least cleaned the slate and made it possible, if it is possible to rebuild at all, to rebuild russia on foundations laid by common sense. it may be said that the communists are merely doing flamboyantly and with a lot of flag-waving, what any other russian government would be doing in their place. and without the flamboyance and the flag-waving, it is doubtful whether in an exhausted country, it would be possible to get anything done at all. the result of this is that in their work of economic reconstruction the communists get the support of most of the best engineers and other technicians in the country, men who take no interest whatsoever in the ideas of karl marx, but have a professional interest in doing the best they can with their knowledge, and a patriotic satisfaction in using that knowledge for russia. these men, caring not at all about communism, want to make russia once more a comfortably habitable place, no matter under what government. their attitude is precisely comparable to that of the officers of the old army who have contributed so much to the success of the new. these officers were not communists, but they disliked civil war, and fought to put an end of it. as sergei kamenev, the commander-in-chief, and not a communist, said to me, "i have not looked on the civil war as on a struggle between two political ideas, for the whites have no definite idea. i have considered it simply as a struggle between the russian government and a number of mutineers." precisely so do these "bourgeois" technicians now working throughout russia regard the task before them. it will be small satisfaction to them if famine makes the position of any government impossible. for them the struggle is quite simply a struggle between russia and the economic forces tending towards a complete collapse of civilization. the communists have thus practically the whole intelligence of the country to help them in their task of reconstruction, or of salvage. but the educated classes alone cannot save a nation. muscle is wanted besides brain, and the great bulk of those who can provide muscle are difficult to move to enthusiasm by any broad schemes of economic rearrangement that do not promise immediate improvement in their own material conditions. industrial conscription cannot be enforced in russia unless there is among the conscripted themselves an understanding, although a resentful understanding, of its necessity. the russians have not got an army of martians to enforce effort on an alien people. the army and the people are one. "we are bound to admit," says trotsky, "that no wide industrial mobilization will succeed, if we do not capture all that is honorable, spiritual in the peasant working masses in explaining our plan." and the plan that he referred to was not the grandiose (but obviously sensible) plan for the eventual electrification of all russia, but a programme of the struggle before them in actually getting their feet clear of the morass of industrial decay in which they are at present involved. such a programme has actually been decided upon-a programme the definite object of which is to reconcile the workers to work not simply hand to mouth, each for himself, but to concentrate first on those labors which will eventually bring their reward in making other labors easier and improving the position as a whole. early this year a comparatively unknown bolshevik called gusev, to whom nobody had attributed any particular intelligence, wrote, while busy on the staff of an army on the southeast front, which was at the time being used partly as a labor army, a pamphlet which has had an extraordinary influence in getting such a programme drawn up. the pamphlet is based on gusev's personal observation both of a labor army at work and of the attitude of the peasant towards industrial conscription. it was extremely frank, and contained so much that might have been used by hostile critics, that it was not published in the ordinary way but printed at the army press on the caucasian front and issued exclusively to members of the communist party. i got hold of a copy of this pamphlet through a friend. it is called "urgent questions of economic construction." gusev sets out in detail the sort of opposition he had met, and says: "the anarchists, social revolutionaries and mensheviks have a clear, simple economic plan which the great masses can understand: 'go about your own business and work freely for yourself in your own place.' they have a criticism of labor mobilizations equally clear for the masses. they say to them, 'they are putting simeon in peter's place, and peter in simeon's. they are sending the men of saratov to dig the ground in the government of stavropol, and the stavropol men to the saratov government for the same purpose.' then besides that there is 'nonparty' criticism: "'when it is time to sow they will be shifting muck, and when it is time to reap they will be told to cut timber.' that is a particularly clear expression of the peasants' disbelief in our ability to draw up a proper economic plan. this belief is clearly at the bottom of such questions as, 'comrade gusev, have you ever done any plowing?' or 'comrade orator, do you know anything about peasant work?' disbelief in the townsman who understands nothing about peasants is natural to the peasant, and we shall have to conquer it, to get through it, to get rid of it by showing the peasant, with a clear plan in our hands that he can understand, that we are not altogether fools in this matter and that we understand more than he does." he then sets out the argument which he himself had found successful in persuading the peasants to do things the reward for which would not be obvious the moment they were done. he says, "i compared our state economy to a colossal building with scores of stories and tens of thousands of rooms. the whole building has been half smashed; in places the roof has tumbled down, the beams have rotted, the ceilings are tumbling, the drains and water pipes are burst; the stoves are falling to pieces, the partitions are shattered, and, finally, the walls and foundations are unsafe and the whole building is threatened with collapse. i asked, how, must one set about the repair of this building? with what kind of economic plan? to this question the inhabitants of different stories, and even of different rooms on one and the same story will reply variously. those who live on the top floor will shout that the rafters are rotten and the roof falling; that it is impossible to live, there any longer, and that it is immediately necessary, first of all, to put up new beams and to repair the roof. and from their point of view they will be perfectly right. certainly it is not possible to live any longer on that floor. certainly the repair of the roof is necessary. the inhabitants of one of the lower stories in which the water pipes have burst will cry out that it is impossible to live without water, and therefore, first of all, the water pipes must be mended. and they, from their point of view, will be perfectly right, since it certainly is impossible to live without water. the inhabitants of the floor where the stoves have fallen to pieces will insist on an immediate mending of the stoves, since they and their children are dying of cold because there is nothing on which they can heat up water or boil kasha for the children; and they, too, will be quite right. but in spite of all these just demands, which arrive in thousands from all sides, it is impossible to forget the most important of all, that the foundation is shattered and that the building is threatened with a collapse which will bury all the inhabitants of the house together, and that, therefore, the only immediate task is the strengthening of the foundation and the walls. extraordinary firmness, extraordinary courage is necessary, not only not to listen to the cries and groans of old men, women, children and sick, coming from every floor, but also to decide on taking from the inhabitants of all floors the instruments and materials necessary for the strengthening of the foundations and walls, and to force them to leave their corners and hearths, which they are doing the best they can to make habitable, in order to drive them to work on the strengthening of the walls and foundations." gusev's main idea was that the communists were asking new sacrifices from a weary and exhausted people, that without such sacrifices these people would presently find themselves in even worse conditions, and that, to persuade them to make the effort necessary to save themselves, it was necessary to have a perfectly clear and easily understandable plan which could be dinned into the whole nation and silence the criticism of all possible opponents. copies of his little book came to moscow. lenin read it and caused excruciating jealousy in the minds of several other communists, who had also been trying to find the philosopher's stone that should turn discouragement into hope, by singling out gusev for his special praise and insisting that his plans should be fully discussed at the supreme council in the kremlin. trotsky followed lenin's lead, and in the end a general programme for russian reconstruction was drawn up, differing only slightly from that which gusev had proposed. i give this scheme in trotsky's words, because they are a little fuller than those of others, and knowledge of this plan will explain not only what the communists are trying to do in russia, but what they would like to get from us today and what they will want to get tomorrow. trotsky says:-- "the fundamental task at this moment is improvement in the condition of our transport, prevention of its further deterioration and preparation of the most elementary stores of food, raw material and fuel. the whole of the first period of our reconstruction will be completely occupied in the concentration of labor on the solution of these problems, which is a condition of further progress. "the second period (it will be difficult to say now whether it will be measured in months or years, since that depends on many factors beginning with the international situation and ending with the unanimity or the lack of it in our own party) will be a period occupied in the building of machines in the interest of transport, and the getting of raw materials and provisions. "the third period will be occupied in building machinery, with a view to the production of articles in general demand, and, finally, the fourth period will be that in which we are able to produce these articles." does it not occur, even to the most casual reader, that there is very little politics in that program, and that, no matter what kind of government should be in russia, it would have to endorse that programme word for word? i would ask any who doubt this to turn again to my first two chapters describing the nature of the economic crisis in russia, and to remind themselves how, not only the lack of things but the lack of men, is intimately connected with the lack of transport, which keeps laborers ill fed, factories ill supplied with material, and in this way keeps the towns incapable of supplying the needs of the country, with the result that the country is most unwilling to supply the needs of the town. no russian government unwilling to allow russia to subside definitely to a lower level of civilization can do otherwise than to concentrate upon the improvement of transport. labor in russia must be used first of all for that, in order to increase its own productivity. and, if purchase of help from abroad is to be allowed, russia must "control" the outflow of her limited assets, so that, by healing transport first of all, she may increase her power of making new assets. she must spend in such a way as eventually to increase her power of spending. she must prevent the frittering away of her small purse on things which, profitable to the vendor and doubtless desirable by the purchaser, satisfy only individual needs and do not raise the producing power of the community as a whole. rykov on economic plans and on the transformation of the communist party alexei rykov, the president of the supreme council of public economy, is one of the hardest worked men in russia, and the only time i was able to have a long talk with him (although more than once he snatched moments to answer particular questions) was on a holiday, when the old siberian hotel, now the offices of the council, was deserted, and i walked through empty corridors until i found the president and his secretary at work as usual. after telling of the building of the new railway from alexandrovsk gai to the emba, the prospects of developing the oil industry in that district, the relative values of those deposits and of those at baku, and the possible decreasing significance of baku in russian industry generally, we passed to broader perspectives. i asked him what he thought of the relations between agriculture and industry in russia, and supposed that he did not imagine that russia would ever become a great industrial country. his answer was characteristic of the tremendous hopes that nerve these people in their almost impossible task, and i set it down as nearly as i can in his own words. for him, of course, the economic problem was the first, and he spoke of it as the director of a huge trust might have spoken. but, as he passed on to talk of what he thought would result from the communist method of tackling that problem, and spoke of the eventual disappearance of political parties, i felt i was trying to read a kind of palimpsest of the economist and news from nowhere, or listening to a strange compound of william morris and, for example, sir eric geddes. he said: "we may have to wait a long time before the inevitable arrives and there is a supreme economic council dealing with europe as with a single economic whole. if that should come about we should, of course, from the very nature of our country, be called upon in the first place to provide food for europe, and we should hope enormously to improve our agriculture, working on a larger and larger scale, using mechanical plows and tractors, which would be supplied us by the west. but in the meantime we have to face the fact that events may cause us to be, for all practical purposes, in a state of blockade for perhaps a score of years, and, so far as we can, we must be ready to depend on ourselves alone. for example, we want mechanical plows which could be procured abroad. we have had to start making them ourselves. the first electric plow made in russia and used in russia started work last year, and this year we shall have a number of such plows made in our country, not because it is economic so to make them, but because we could get them in no other way. in so far as is possible, we shall have to make ourselves self-supporting, so as somehow or other to get along even if the blockade, formal or perhaps willy-nilly (imposed by the inability of the west to supply us), compels us to postpone cooperation with the rest of europe. every day of such postponement is one in which the resources of europe are not being used in the most efficient manner to supply the needs not only of our own country but of all." i referred to what he had told me last year about the intended electrification of moscow by a station using turf fuel. "that," he said, "is one of the plans which, in spite of the war, has gone a very long way towards completion. we have built the station in the ryezan government, on the shadul peat mosses, about versts from moscow. before the end of may that station should be actually at work. (it was completed, opened and partially destroyed by a gigantic fire.) another station at kashira in the tula government (on the oka), using the small coal produced in the moscow coalfields, will be at work before the autumn. this year similar stations are being built at ivano-voznesensk and at nijni-novgorod. also, with a view to making the most economic use of what we already possess, we have finished both in petrograd and in moscow a general unification of all the private power-stations, which now supply their current to a single main cable. similar unification is nearly finished at tula and at kostroma. the big water-power station on the rapids of the volkhov is finished in so far as land construction goes, but we can proceed no further until we have obtained the turbines, which we hope to get from abroad. as you know, we are basing our plans in general on the assumption that in course of time we shall supply the whole of russian industry with electricity, of which we also hope to make great use in agriculture. that, of course, will take a great number of years." [nothing could have been much more artificial than the industrial geography of old russia. the caprice of history had planted great industrial centers literally at the greatest possible distance from the sources of their raw materials. there was moscow bringing its coal from donetz, and petrograd, still further away, having to eke out a living by importing coal from england. the difficulty of transport alone must have forced the russians to consider how they could do away with such anomalies. their main idea is that the transport of coal in a modern state is an almost inexcusable barbarism. they have set themselves, these ragged engineers, working in rooms which they can hardly keep above freezing-point and walking home through the snow in boots without soles, no less a task than the electrification of the whole of russia. there is a state committee presided over by an extraordinary optimist called krzhizhanovsky, entrusted by the supreme council of public economy and commissariat of agriculture with the working out of a general plan. this committee includes, besides a number of well-known practical engineers, professors latsinsky, klassen, dreier, alexandrov, tcharnovsky, dend and pavlov. they are investigating the water power available in different districts in russia, the possibilities of using turf, and a dozen similar questions including, perhaps not the least important, investigation to discover where they can do most with least dependence on help from abroad.] considering the question of the import of machinery from abroad, i asked him whether in existing conditions of transport russia was actually in a position to export the raw materials with which alone the russians could hope to buy what they want. he said: "actually we have in hand about two million poods (a pood is a little over thirty-six english pounds) of flax, and any quantity of light leather (goat, etc.), but the main districts where we have raw material for ourselves or for export are far away. hides, for example, we have in great quantities in siberia, in the districts of orenburg and the ural river and in tashkent. i have myself made the suggestion that we should offer to sell this stuff where it is, that is to say not delivered at a seaport, and that the buyers should provide their own trains, which we should eventually buy from them with the raw material itself, so that after a certain number of journeys the trains should become ours. in the same districts we have any quantity of wool, and in some of these districts corn. we cannot, in the present condition of our transport, even get this corn for ourselves. in the same way we have great quantities of rice in turkestan, and actually are being offered rice from sweden, because we cannot transport our own. then we have over a million poods of copper, ready for export on the same conditions. but it is clear that if the western countries are unable to help in the transport, they cannot expect to get raw materials from us." i asked about platinum. he laughed. "that is a different matter. in platinum we have a world monopoly, and can consequently afford to wait. diamonds and gold, they can have as much as they want of such rubbish; but platinum is different, and we are in no hurry to part with it. but diamonds and gold ornaments, the jewelry of the tsars, we are ready to give to any king in europe who fancies them, if he can give us some less ornamental but more useful locomotives instead." i asked if kolchak had damaged the platinum mines. he replied, "not at all. on the contrary, he was promising platinum to everybody who wanted it, and he set the mines going, so we arrived to find them in good condition, with a considerable yield of platinum ready for use." (i am inclined to think that in spite of rykov's rather intransigent attitude on the question, the russians would none the less be willing to export platinum, if only on account of the fact in comparison with its great value it requires little transport, and so would make possible for them an immediate bargain with some of the machinery they most urgently need.) finally we talked of the growing importance of the council of public economy. rykov was of opinion that it would eventually become the centre of the whole state organism, "it and trades unions organizing the actual producers in each branch." "then you think that as your further plans develop, with the creation of more and more industrial centres, with special productive populations concentrated round them, the councils of the trades unions will tend to become identical with the soviets elected in the same districts by the same industrial units?" "precisely," said rykov, "and in that way the soviets, useful during the period of transition as an instrument of struggle and dictatorship, will be merged with the unions." (one important factor, as lenin pointed out when considering the same question, is here left out of count, namely the political development of the enormous agricultural as opposed to industrial population.) "but if this merging of political soviets with productive unions occurs, the questions that concern people will cease to be political questions, but will be purely questions of economics." "certainly. and we shall see the disappearance of political parties. that process is already apparent. in the present huge trade union conference there are only sixty mensheviks. the communists are swallowing one party after another. those who were not drawn over to us during the period of struggle are now joining us during the process of construction, and we find that our differences now are not political at all, but concerned only with the practical details of construction." he illustrated this by pointing out the present constitution of the supreme council of public economy. there are under it fifty-three departments or centres (textile, soap, wool, timber, flax, etc.), each controlled by a "college" of three or more persons. there are members of these colleges or boards in all, and of them are workmen, are engineers, was an ex-director, were from the clerical staff, and unclassified. politically were communists, were "non-party," and were of non-communist parties. he continued, "further, in swallowing the other parties, the communists themselves will cease to exist as a political party. think only that youths coming to their manhood during this year in russia and in the future will not be able to confirm from their own experience the reasoning of karl marx, because they will have had no experience of a capitalist country. what can they make of the class struggle? the class struggle here is already over, and the distinctions of class have already gone altogether. in the old days, members of our party were men who had read, or tried to read, marx's "capital," who knew the "communist manifesto" by heart, and were occupied in continual criticism of the basis of capitalist society. look at the new members of our party. marx is quite unnecessary to them. they join us, not for struggle in the interests of an oppressed class, but simply because they understand our aims in constructive work. and, as this process continues, we old social democrats shall disappear, and our places will be filled by people of entirely different character grown up under entirely new conditions." non-partyism rykov's prophecies of the disappearance of political parties may be falsified by a development of that very non-partyism on which he bases them. it is true that the parties openly hostile to the communists in russia have practically disappeared. many old-time mensheviks have joined the communist party. here and there in the country may be found a social revolutionary stronghold. here and there in the ukraine the mensheviks retain a footing, but i doubt whether either of these parties has in it the vitality to make itself once again a serious political factor. there is, however, a movement which, in the long run, may alter russia's political complexion. more and more delegates to soviets or congresses of all kinds are explicitly described as "non-party." non-partyism is perhaps a sign of revolt against rigid discipline of any kind. now and then, of course, a clever menshevik or social revolutionary, by trimming his sails carefully to the wind, gets himself elected on a non-party ticket. 'when this happens there is usually a great hullabaloo as soon as he declares himself. a section of his electors agitates for his recall and presently some one else is elected in his stead. but non-partyism is much more than a mere cloak of invisibility for enemies or conditional supporters of the communists. i know of considerable country districts which, in the face of every kind of agitation, insist on returning exclusively non-party delegates. the local soviets in these districts are also non-party, and they elect usually a local bolshevik to some responsible post to act as it were as a buffer between themselves and the central authority. they manage local affairs in their own way, and, through the use of tact on both sides, avoid falling foul of the more rigid doctrinaires in moscow. eager reactionaries outside russia will no doubt point to non-partyism as a symptom of friendship for themselves. it is nothing of the sort. on all questions of the defense of the republic the non-party voting is invariably solid with that of the communists. the non-party men do not want denikin. they do not want baron wrangel. they have never heard of professor struhve. they do not particularly like the communists. they principally want to be left alone, and they principally fear any enforced continuation of war of any kind. if, in the course of time, they come to have a definite political programme, i think it not impossible that they may turn into a new kind of constitutional democrat. that does not mean that they will have any use for m. milukov or for a monarch with whom m. milukov might be ready to supply them. the constitution for which they will work will be that very soviet constitution which is now in abeyance, and the democracy which they associate with it will be that form of democracy which were it to be accurately observed in the present state of russia, that constitution would provide. the capitalist in russia has long ago earned the position in which, according to the constitution, he has a right to vote, since he has long ago ceased to be a capitalist. supposing the soviet constitution were today to be literally applied, it would be found that practically no class except the priests would be excluded from the franchise. and when this agitation swells in volume, it will be an agitation extremely difficult to resist, supposing russia to be at peace, so that there will be no valid excuse with which to meet it. these new constitutional democrats will be in the position of saying to the communists, "give us, without change, that very constitution which you yourselves drew up." i think they will find many friends inside the communist party, particularly among those communists who are also trade unionists. i heard something very like the arguments of this new variety of constitutional democrat in the kremlin itself at an all-russian conference of the communist party. a workman, sapronov, turned suddenly aside in a speech on quite another matter, and said with great violence that the present system was in danger of running to seed and turning into oligarchy, if not autocracy. until the moment when he put his listeners against him by a personal attack on lenin, there was no doubt that he had with him the sympathies of quite a considerable section of an exclusively communist audience. given peace, given an approximate return to normal conditions, non-partyism may well profoundly modify the activities of the communists. it would certainly be strong enough to prevent the rasher spirits among them from jeopardizing peace or from risking russia's chance of convalescence for the sake of promoting in any way the growth of revolution abroad. of course, so long as it is perfectly obvious that soviet russia is attacked, no serious growth of non-partyism is to be expected, but it is obvious that any act of aggression on the part of the soviet government, once russia had attained peace-which she has not known since -would provide just the basis of angry discontent which might divide even the disciplined ranks of the communists and give non-partyism an active, instead of a comparatively passive, backing throughout the country. non-partyism is already the peasants' way of expressing their aloofness from the revolution and, at the same time, their readiness to defend that revolution against anybody who attacks it from outside. lenin, talking to me about the general attitude of the peasants, said: "hegel wrote 'what is the people? the people is that part of the nation which does not know what it wants.' that is a good description of the russian peasantry at the present time, and it applies equally well to your arthur hendersons and sidney webbs in england, and to all other people like yourself who want incompatible things. the peasantry are individualists, but they support us. we have, in some degree, to thank kolchak and denikin for that. they are in favor of the soviet government, but hanker after free trade, not understanding that the two things are self-contradictory. of course, if they were a united political force they could swamp us, but they are disunited both in their interests and geographically. the interests of the poorer and middle class peasants are in contradiction to those of the rich peasant farmer who employs laborers. the poorer and middle class see that we support them against the rich peasant, and also see that he is ready to support what is obviously not in their interests." i said, "if state agriculture in russia comes to be on a larger scale, will there not be a sort of proletarianization of the peasants so that, in the long run, their interests will come to be more or less identical with those of the workers in other than agricultural industry!" he replied, "something in that direction is being done, but it will have to be done very carefully and must take a very long time. when we are getting many thousands of tractors from abroad, then something of the sort would become possible." finally i asked him point blank, "did he think they would pull through far enough economically to be able to satisfy the needs of the peasantry before that same peasantry had organized a real political opposition that should overwhelm them!" lenin laughed. "if i could answer that question," he said, "i could answer everything, for on the answer to that question everything depends. i think we can. yes, i think we can. but i do not know that we can." non-partyism may well be the protoplasmic stage of the future political opposition of the peasants. possibilities i have done my best to indicate the essential facts in russia's problem today, and to describe the organization and methods with which she is attempting its solution. i can give no opinion as to whether by these means the russians will succeed in finding their way out of the quagmire of industrial ruin in which they are involved. i can only say that they are unlikely to find their way out by any other means. i think this is instinctively felt in russia. not otherwise would it have been possible for the existing organization, battling with one hand to save the towns front starvation, to destroy with the other the various forces clothed and armed by western europe, which have attempted its undoing. the mere fact of continued war has, of course, made progress in the solution of the economic problem almost impossible, but the fact that the economic problem was unsolved, must have made war impossible, if it were not that the instinct of the people was definitely against russian or foreign invaders. consider for one moment the military position. although the enthusiasm for the polish war began to subside (even among the communists) as soon as the poles had been driven back from kiev to their own frontiers, although the poles are occupying an enormous area of non-polish territory, although the communists have had to conclude with poland a peace obviously unstable, the military position of soviet russia is infinitely better this time than it was in or . in the ukraine was held by german troops and the district east of the ukraine was in the hands of general krasnov, the author of a flattering letter to the kaiser. in the northwest the germans were at pskov, vitebsk and mohilev. we ourselves were at murmansk and archangel. in the east, the front which became known as that of kolchak, was on the volga. soviet russia was a little hungry island with every prospect of submersion. a year later the germans had vanished, the flatterers of the kaiser had joined hands with those who were temporarily flattering the allies, yudenitch's troops were within sight of petrograd, denikin was at orel, almost within striking distance of moscow; there had been a stampede of desertion from the red army. there was danger that finland might strike at any moment. although in the east kolchak had been swept over the urals to his ultimate disaster, the situation of soviet russia seemed even more desperate than in the year before. what is the position today! esthonia, latvia, lithuania, and finland are at peace with russia. the polish peace brings comparative quiet to the western front, although the poles, keeping the letter rather than the spirit of their agreement, have given balahovitch the opportunity of establishing himself in minsk, where, it is said, that the pogroms of unlucky jews show that he has learnt nothing since his ejection from pskov. balahovitch's force is not important in itself, but its existence will make it easy to start the war afresh along the whole new frontier of poland, and that frontier shuts into poland so large an anti-polish population, that a moment may still come when desperate polish statesmen may again choose war as the least of many threatening evils. still, for the moment, russia's western frontier is comparatively quiet. her northern frontier is again the arctic sea. her eastern frontier is in the neighborhood of the pacific. the ukraine is disorderly, but occupied by no enemy; the only front on which serious fighting is proceeding is the small semi-circle north of the crimea. there denikin's successor, supported by the french but exultantly described by a german conservative newspaper as a "german baron in cherkass uniform," is holding the crimea and a territory slightly larger than the peninsula on the main land. only to the immense efficiency of anti-bolshevik propaganda can be ascribed the opinion, common in england but comic to any one who takes the trouble to look at a map, that soviet russia is on the eve of military collapse. in any case it is easy in a revolution to magnify the influence of military events on internal affairs. in the first place, no one who has not actually crossed the russian front during the period of active operations can well realize how different are the revolutionary wars from that which ended in . advance on a broad front no longer means that a belt of men in touch with each other has moved definitely forward. it means that there have been a series of forward movements at widely separated, and with the very haziest of mutual, connections. there will be violent fighting for a village or a railway station or the passage of a river. small hostile groups will engage in mortal combat to decide the possession of a desirable hut in which to sleep, but, except at these rare points of actual contact, the number of prisoners is far in excess of the number of casualties. parties on each side will be perfectly ignorant of events to right or left of them, ignorant even of their gains and losses. last year i ran into whites in a village which the reds had assured me was strongly held by themselves, and these same whites refused to believe that the village where i had spent the preceding night was in the possession of the reds. it is largely an affair of scouting parties, of patrols dodging each other through the forest tracks, of swift raids, of sudden conviction (often entirely erroneous) on the part of one side or the other, that it or the enemy has been "encircled." the actual number of combatants to a mile of front is infinitely less than during the german war. further, since an immense proportion of these combatants on both sides have no wish to fight at all, being without patriotic or political convictions and very badly fed and clothed, and since it is more profitable to desert than to be taken prisoner, desertion in bulk is not uncommon, and the deserters, hurriedly enrolled to fight on the other side, indignantly re-desert when opportunity offers. in this way the armies of denikin and yudenitch swelled like mushrooms and decayed with similar rapidity. military events of this kind, however spectacular they may seem abroad, do not have the political effect that might be expected. i was in moscow at the worst moment of the crisis in when practically everybody outside the government believed that petrograd had already fallen, and i could not but realize that the government was stronger then than it had been in february of the same year, when it had a series of victories and peace with the allies seemed for a moment to be in sight. a sort of fate seems to impel the whites to neutralize with extraordinary rapidity any good will for themelves which they may find among the population. this is true of both sides, but seems to affect the whites especially. although general baron wrangel does indeed seem to have striven more successfully than his predecessors not to set the population against him and to preserve the loyalty of his army, it may be said with absolute certainty that any large success on his part would bring crowding to his banner the same crowd of stupid reactionary officers who brought to nothing any mild desire for moderation that may have been felt by general denikin. if the area he controls increases, his power of control over his subordinates will decrease, and the forces that led to denikin's collapse will be set in motion in his case also. [*] * on the day on which i send this book to the printers news comes of wrangel's collapse and flight. i leave standing what i have written concerning him, since it will apply to any successor he may have. each general who has stepped into kolchak's shoes has eventually had to run away in them, and always for the same reasons. it may be taken almost as an axiom that the history of great country is that of its centre, not of its periphery. the main course of english history throughout the troubled seventeenth and eighteenth centuries was never deflected from london. french history did not desert paris, to make a new start at toulon or at quiberon bay. and only a fanatic could suppose that russian history would run away from moscow, to begin again in a semi-tartar peninsula in the black sea. moscow changes continually, and may so change as to make easy the return of the "refugees." some have already returned. but the refugees will not return as conquerors. should a russian napoleon (an unlikely figure, even in spite of our efforts) appear, he will not throw away the invaluable asset of a revolutionary war-cry. he will have to fight some one, or he will not be a napoleon. and whom will he fight but the very people who, by keeping up the friction, have rubbed aladdin's ring so hard and so long that a djinn, by no means kindly disposed towards them, bursts forth at last to avenge the breaking of his sleep? and, of course, should hostilities flare up again on the polish frontier, should the lions and lambs and jackals and eagles of kossack, russian, ukrainian and polish nationalists temporarily join forces, no miracles of diplomacy will keep them from coming to blows. for all these reasons a military collapse of the soviet government at the present time, even a concerted military advance of its enemies, is unlikely. it is undoubtedly true that the food situation in the towns is likely to be worse this winter than it has yet been. forcible attempts to get food from the peasantry will increase the existing hostility between town and country. there has been a very bad harvest in russia. the bringing of food from siberia or the kuban (if military activities do not make that impossible) will impose an almost intolerable strain on the inadequate transport. yet i think internal collapse unlikely. it may be said almost with certainty that governments do not collapse until there is no one left to defend them. that moment had arrived in the case of the tsar. it had arrived in the case of kerensky. it has not arrived in the case of the soviet government for certain obvious reasons. for one thing, a collapse of the soviet government at the present time would be disconcerting, if not disastrous, to its more respectable enemies. it would, of course, open the way to a practically unopposed military advance, but at the same time it would present its enemies with enormous territory, which would overwhelm the organizing powers which they have shown again and again to be quite inadequate to much smaller tasks. nor would collapse of the present government turn a bad harvest into a good one. such a collapse would mean the breakdown of all existing organizations, and would intensify the horrors of famine for every town dweller. consequently, though the desperation of hunger and resentment against inevitable requisitions may breed riots and revolts here and there throughout the country, the men who, in other circumstances, might coordinate such events, will refrain from doing anything of the sort. i do not say that collapse is impossible. i do say that it would be extremely undesirable from the point of view of almost everybody in russia. collapse of the present government would mean at best a reproduction of the circumstances of , with the difference that no intervention from without would be necessary to stimulate indiscriminate slaughter within. i say "at best" because i think it more likely that collapse would be followed by a period of actual chaos. any government that followed the communists would be faced by the same economic problem, and would have to choose between imposing measures very like those of the communists and allowing russia to subside into a new area for colonization. there are people who look upon this as a natural, even a desirable, result of the revolution. they forget that the russians have never been a subject race, that they have immense powers of passive resistance, that they respond very readily to any idea that they understand, and that the idea of revolt against foreigners is difficult not to understand. any country that takes advantage of the russian people in a moment of helplessness will find, sooner or later, first that it has united russia against it, and secondly that it has given all russians a single and undesirable view of the history of the last three years. there will not be a russian who will not believe that the artificial incubation of civil war within the frontiers of old russia was not deliberately undertaken by western europe with the object of so far weakening russia as to make her exploitation easy. those who look with equanimity even on this prospect forget that the creation in europe of a new area for colonization, a knocking out of one of the sovereign nations, will create a vacuum, and that the effort to fill this vacuum will set at loggerheads nations at present friendly and so produce a struggle which may well do for western europe what western europe will have done for russia. it is of course possible that in some such way the russian revolution may prove to be no more than the last desperate gesture of a stricken civilization. my point is that if that is so, civilization in russia will not die without infecting us with its disease. it seems to me that our own civilization is ill already, slightly demented perhaps, and liable, like a man in delirium, to do things which tend to aggravate the malady. i think that the whole of the russian war, waged directly or indirectly by western europe, is an example of this sort of dementia, but i cannot help believing that sanity will reassert itself in time. at the present moment, to use a modification of gusev's metaphor, europe may be compared to a burning house and the governments of europe to fire brigades, each one engaged in trying to salve a wing or a room of the building. it seems a pity that these fire brigades should be fighting each other, and forgetting the fire in their resentment of the fact that some of them wear red uniforms and some wear blue. any single room to which the fire gains complete control increases the danger of the whole building, and i hope that before the roof falls in the firemen will come to their senses. but turning from grim recognition of the danger, and from speculations as to the chance of the russian government collapsing, and as to the changes in it that time may bring, let us consider what is likely to happen supposing it does not collapse. i have already said that i think collapse unlikely. do the russians show any signs of being able to carry out their programme, or has the fire gone so far during the quarrelling of the firemen as to make that task impossible? i think that there is still a hope. there is as yet no sign of a general improvement in russia, nor is such an improvement possible until the russians have at least carried out the first stage of their programme. it would even not be surprising if things in general were to continue to go to the bad during the carrying out of that first stage. shortages of food, of men, of tools, of materials, are so acute that they have had to choose those factories which are absolutely indispensable for the carrying out of this stage, and make of them "shock" factories, like the "shock" troops of the war, giving them equipment over and above their rightful share of the impoverished stock, feeding their workmen even at the cost of letting others go hungry. that means that other factories suffer. no matter, say the russians, if only that first stage makes progress. consequently, the only test that can be fairly applied is that of transport. are they or are they not gaining on ruin in the matter of wagons and engines! here are the figures of wagon repairs in the seven chief repairing shops up to the month of june: december ............ wagons were repaired. january ............. february................. march................... april................... may..................... june.................... after elaborate investigation last year, trotsky, as temporary commissar of transport, put out an order explaining that the railways, to keep up their present condition, must repair roughly engines every month. during the first six months of they fulfilled this task in the following percentages: january.................. per cent february................. march.................... april.................... may...................... june.................... i think that is a proof that, supposing normal relations existed between russia and ourselves, the russian would be able to tackle the first stage of the problem that lies before them, and would lie before them whatever their government might be. unfortunately there is no proof that this steady improvement can be continued, except under conditions of trade with western europe. there are russians who think they can pull through without us, and, remembering the miracles of which man is capable when his back is to the wall, it would be rash to say that this is impossible. but other russians point out gloomily that they have been using certain parts taken from dead engines (engines past repair) in order to mend sick engines. they are now coming to the mending, not of sick engines merely, but of engines on which post-mortems have already been held. they are actually mending engines, parts of which have already been taken out and used for the mending of other engines. there are consequently abnormal demands for such things as shafts and piston rings. they are particularly short of babbitt metal and boiler tubes. in normal times the average number of new tubes wanted for each engine put through the repair shops was ( to for engines used in the more northerly districts, and to for engines in the south where the water is not so good). this number must now be taken as much higher, because during recent years tubes have not been regularly renewed. further, the railways have been widely making use of tubes taken from dead engines, that is to say, tubes already worn. putting things at their very best, assuming that the average demand for tubes per engine will be that of normal times, then, if , engines are to be repaired monthly, , tubes will be wanted every six months. now on the th of june the total stock of tubes ready for use was , , and the railways could not expect to get more than another , in the near future. unless the factories are able to do better (and their improvement depends on improvement in transport), railway repairs must again deteriorate, since the main source of materials for it in russia, namely the dead engines, will presently be exhausted. on this there is only one thing to be said. if, whether because we do not trade with them, or from some other cause, the russians are unable to proceed even in this first stage of their programme, it means an indefinite postponement of the moment when russia will be able to export anything, and, consequently, that when at last we learn that we need russia as a market, she will be a market willing to receive gifts, but unable to pay for anything at all. and that is a state of affairs a great deal more serious to ourselves than to the russians, who can, after all, live by wandering about their country and scratching the ground, whereas we depend on the sale of our manufactured goods for the possibility of buying the food we cannot grow ourselves. if the russians fail, their failure will affect not us alone. it will, by depriving her of a market, lessen germany's power of recuperation, and consequently her power of fulfilling her engagements. what, then, is to happen to france? and, if we are to lose our market in russia, and find very much weakened markets in germany and france, we shall be faced with an ever-increasing burden of unemployment, with the growth, in fact, of the very conditions in which alone we shall ourselves be unable to recover from the war. in such conditions, upheaval in england would be possible, and, for the dispassionate observer, there is a strange irony in the fact that the communists desire that upheaval, and, at the same time, desire a rebirth of the russian market which would tend to make that upheaval unlikely, while those who most fear upheaval are precisely those who urge us, by making recovery in russia impossible, to improve the chances of collapse at home. the peasants in russia are not alone in wanting incompatible things. [illustration: moscow.] russia as _seen_ and _described_ by famous writers _edited and translated by_ esther singleton _author of_ "turrets, towers and temples," "great pictures," and "a guide to the opera," and _translator of_ "the music dramas of richard wagner." with numerous illustrations new york dodd, mead and company _preface_ this is intended to be a companion volume to _japan_, and therefore follows the same general plan and arrangement. it aims to present in small compass a somewhat comprehensive view of the great muscovite power. after a short description of the country and race, we pass to a brief review of the history and religion including ritual and ceremonial observances of the greek church. next come descriptions of regions, cities and architectural marvels; and then follow articles on the various manners and customs of rural and town life. the arts of the nation are treated comprehensively; and a chapter of the latest statistics concludes the rapid survey. the material is all selected from the writings of those who speak with authority on the subjects with which they deal. the russian empire is so vast that it would be impossible to give detailed descriptions of all its parts in a work of this size: therefore i have been forced to be content with more general descriptions of provinces with an occasional addition of a typical city. e. s. _new york, april , ._ _contents_ part i the country and race the russian empire _prince kropotkine._ siberia _jean jacques Élisée reclus._ the russian races _w. r. morfill._ part ii history and religion the history of russia _w. r. morfill._ church service _alfred maskell._ the creeds of russia _ernest w. lowry._ part iii descriptions st. petersburg _j. beavington atkinson._ finland _harry de windt._ lapland _alexander platonovich engelhardt._ moscow (the kremlin and its treasuries--the ancient regalia--the romanoff house) _alfred maskell._ vassili-blagennoi (st. basil the blessed) _théophile gautier._ poland _thomas michell._ kief, the city of pilgrimage _j. beavington atkinson._ nijni-novgorod _antonio gallenga._ the volga basin. (the great river--kasan--tsaritzin--astrakhan) _antonio gallenga._ odessa _antonio gallenga._ the don cossacks _thomas michell._ in the caucasus _j. buchan teller._ khiva _fred burnaby._ the trans-siberian railway _william durban._ part iv manners and customs high life in russia _the countess of galloway._ rural life in russia _lady verney_ food and drink _h. sutherland edwards._ carnival-time and easter _a. nicol simpson._ russian tea and tea-houses _h. sutherland edwards._ how russia amuses itself _fred whishaw._ the kirghiz and their horses _fred burnaby._ winter in moscow _h. sutherland edwards._ a journey by sleigh _fred burnaby._ part v art and literature russian architecture _eugène emmanuel viollet-le-duc._ sculpture and painting _philippe berthelot._ russian music _a. e. keeton._ russian literature _w. r. morfill._ part vi statistics present conditions _e. s._ illustrations moscow archangel revel siberian natives samojedes of nova zembla room of the tsar michailowitch, moscow church of the assumption a religious procession, kola shrine in the convent solovetskii, kola st. petersburg the hermitage, st. petersburg helsingfors, finland reindeer travelling moscow the kremlin, moscow vassili--blagennoi (st. basil the blessed), moscow nowo zjazd street, warsaw hotel deville, warsaw the dnieper at kief la lavra, kief nijni--novgorod (bridge of the fair) from the ramparts of the kremlin, nijni--novgorod place turemnaja, odessa sebastopol kharkoff tiflis the winter palace, st. petersburg russian farm scene the tsar's dining-room, moscow st. isaac's cathedral, st. petersburg st. anne restaurant, wiborg the red square, moscow church of the redeemer, moscow statue of peter the great and the admiralty palace, st. petersburg the theatre, odessa the library, odessa the tsar nicholas the tsarina kalkstrasse and promenade, riga _the russian empire_ _prince kropotkine_ the russian empire is a very extensive territory in eastern europe and northern asia, with an area exceeding , , square miles, or one-sixth of the land surface of the globe (one twenty-third of its whole superficies). it is, however, but thinly peopled on the average, including only one-fourteenth of the inhabitants of the earth. it is almost entirely confined to the cold and temperate zones. in nova zembla (novaya zemlya) and the taimir peninsula, it projects within the arctic circle as far as ° ' and ° ' n. latitude; while its southern extremities reach ° ' in armenia, about ° on the afghan frontier, and ° ' on the coasts of the pacific. to the west it advances as far as ° ' e. longitude in lapland, ° ' in poland, and ° ' on the black sea; and its eastern limit--east cape in the bering strait--extends to ° e. longitude. the arctic ocean--comprising the white, barents, and kara seas--and the northern pacific, that is the seas of bering, okhotsk, and japan, bound it on the north and east. the baltic, with its two deep indentations, the gulfs of bothnia and finland, limits it on the north-west; and two sinuous lines of frontier separate it respectively from sweden and norway on the north-west, and from prussia, austria and roumania on the west. the southern frontier is still unsettled. in asia beyond the caspian, the southern boundary of the empire remains vague; the advance into the turcoman steppes and afghan turkestan, and on the pamir plateau is still in progress. bokhara and khiva, though represented as vassal khanates, are in reality mere dependencies of russia. an approximately settled frontier-line begins only farther east, where the russian and chinese empires meet on the borders of eastern turkestan, mongolia and manchuria. russia has no oceanic possessions, and has abandoned those she owned in the last century; her islands are mere appendages of the mainland to which they belong. such are the aland archipelago, hochland, tütters, dagö and osel in the baltic sea; nova zembla, with kolgueff and vaigatch, in the barents sea; the solovetsky islands in the white sea; the new siberian archipelago and the small group of the medvyezhii islands off the siberian coast; the commandor islands off kamchatka; the shantar islands and saghalin in the sea of okhotsk. the aleutian archipelago was sold to the united states in , together with alaska, and in the kurile islands were ceded to japan. [illustration: archangel.] a vast variety of physical features is obviously to be expected in a territory like this, which comprises on the one side the cotton and silk regions of turkestan and trans-caucasia, and on the other the moss and lichen-clothed arctic _tundras_ and the verkhoyansk siberian pole of cold--the dry transcaspian deserts and the regions watered by the monsoons on the coasts of the sea of japan. still, if the border regions, that is, two narrow belts in the north and south, be left out of account, a striking uniformity of physical feature prevails. high plateaus, like those of pamir (the "roof of the world") or of armenia, and high mountain chains like the snow-clad summits of the caucasus, the alay, the thian-shan, the sayan, are met with only on the outskirts of the empire. viewed broadly by the physical geographer, it appears as occupying the territories to the north-west of that great plateau-belt of the old continent--the backbone of asia--which spreads with decreasing height and width from the high table-land of tibet and pamir to the lower plateaus of mongolia, and thence north-eastwards through the vitim region to the furthest extremity of asia. it may be said to consist of the immense plains and flat-lands which extend between the plateau-belt and the arctic ocean, including all the series of parallel chains and hilly spurs which skirt the plateau-belt on the north-west. it extends over the plateau itself, and crosses it beyond lake baikal only. a broad belt of hilly tracts--in every respect alpine in character, and displaying the same variety of climate and organic life as alpine tracts usually do--skirts the plateau-belt throughout its length on the north and north-west, forming an intermediate region between the plateaus and the plains. the caucasus, the elburz, the kopetdagh, and paropamisus, the intricate and imperfectly known network of mountains west of the pamir, the thian-shan and ala-tau mountain regions, and farther north-east the altai, the still unnamed complex of minusinsk mountains, the intricate mountain-chains of sayan, with those of the olekma, vitim, and aldan, all of which are ranged _en échelon_,--the former from north-west to south-east, and the others from south-west to north-east--all these belong to one immense alpine belt bordering that of the plateaus. these have long been known to russian colonists, who, seeking to escape religious persecutions and exactions by the state, early penetrated into and rapidly pushed their small settlements up the better valleys of these tracts, and continued to spread everywhere as long as they found no obstacles in the shape of a former population or in unfavourable climatic conditions. as for the flat-lands which extend from the alpine hill-foots to the shores of the arctic ocean, and assume the character either of dry deserts in the aral-caspian depression, or of low table-lands in central russia and eastern siberia, of lake-regions in north-west russia and finland, or of marshy prairies in western siberia, and of _tundras_ in the north,--their monotonous surfaces are diversified by only a few, and these for the most part low, hilly tracts. as to the picturesque bureya mountains on the amur, the forest-clothed sikhota-alin on the pacific, and the volcanic chains of kamchatka, they belong to quite another orographical world; they are the border-ridges of the terraces by which the great plateau-belt descends to the depths of the pacific ocean. it is owing to these leading orographical features--divined by carl ritter, but only within the present day revealed by geographical research--that so many of the great rivers of the old continent are comprised within the limits of the russian empire. taking rise on the plateau-belt, or in its alpine outskirts, they flow first, like the upper rhone and rhine, along high longitudinal valleys formerly filled up with great lakes; next they find their way through the rocky walls; and finally they enter the lowlands, where they become navigable, and, describing great curves to avoid here and there the minor plateaus and hilly tracts, they bring into water-communication with one another places thousands of miles apart. the double river-systems of the volga and kama, the obi and irtish, the angara and yenisei, the lena and vitim on the arctic slope, the amur and sungari on the pacific slope, are instances. they were the true channels of russian colonization. a broad depression--the aral-caspian desert--has arisen where the plateau-belt has reached its greatest height and suddenly changes its direction from a north-western into a north-eastern one; this desert is now filled only to a small extent by the salt waters of the caspian, aral and balkash inland seas; but it bears unmistakable traces of having been during post-pliocene times an immense inland basin. there the volga, the ural, the sir daria, and the oxus discharge their waters without reaching the ocean, but continue to bring life to the rapidly drying transcaspian steppes, or connect by their river network, as the volga does, the most remote parts of european russia. the above-described features of the physical geography of the empire explain the relative uniformity of this wide territory, in conjunction with the variety of physical features on the outskirts. they explain also the rapidity of the expansion of sclavonic colonization over these thinly-peopled regions; and they also throw light upon the internal cohesion of the empire, which cannot fail to strike the traveller as he crosses this immense territory, and finds everywhere the same dominating race, the same features of life. in fact, as their advance from the basins of the volkhoff and dnieper to the foot of the altai and sayan mountains, that is, along nearly a quarter of the earth's circumference, the russian colonizers could always find the same physical conditions, the same forest and prairies as they had left at home, the same facilities for agriculture, only modified somewhat by minor topographical features. new conditions of climate and soil, and consequently new cultures and civilizations, the russians met with, in their expansion towards the south and east, only beyond the caucasus in the aral-caspian region, and in the basin of the usuri on the pacific coast. favoured by these conditions, the russians not only conquered northern asia--they colonized it. the russian empire falls into two great subdivisions, the european and the asiatic, the latter of which, representing an aggregate of nearly , , square miles, with a population of only sixteen million inhabitants may be considered as held by colonies. the european dominions comprise european russia, finland, which is, in fact, a separate nationality treated to some extent as an allied state, and poland, whose very name has been erased from official documents, but which nevertheless continues to pursue its own development. the asiatic dominions comprise the following great subdivisions:--caucasia, under a separate governor-general; the transcaspian region, which is under the governor-general of caucasus; the kirghiz steppes; turkestan under separate governors-general, western siberia and eastern siberia; and the amur region, which last comprises also the pacific coast region and kamchatka. _climate of russia in europe_.--notwithstanding the fact that russia extends from north to south through twenty-six degrees of latitude, the climate of its different portions, apart from the crimea and the caucasus, presents a striking uniformity. the aerial currents--cyclones, anti-cyclones and dry south-east winds--extend over wide surfaces and cross the flat plains freely. everywhere we find a cold winter and a hot summer, both varying in their duration, but differing little in the extremes of temperature recorded. throughout russia the winter is of long continuance. the last days of frost are experienced for the most part in april, but also in may to the north of fifty-five degrees. the spring is exceptionally beautiful in central russia; late as it usually is, it sets in with vigour and develops with a rapidity which gives to this season in russia a special charm, unknown in warmer climates; and the rapid melting of snow at the same time raises the rivers, and renders a great many minor streams navigable for a few weeks. but a return of cold weather, injurious to vegetation, is observed throughout central and eastern russia between may and , so that it is only in june that warm weather sets in definitely, reaching its maximum in the first half of july (or of august on the black sea coast). the summer is much warmer than might be supposed; in south-eastern russia it is much warmer than in the corresponding latitudes of france, and really hot weather is experienced everywhere. it does not, however, prevail for long, and in the first half of september the first frosts begin to be experienced on the middle urals; they reach western and southern russia in the first days of october, and are felt on the caucasus about the middle of november. the temperature descends so rapidly that a month later, about october on the middle urals and november throughout russia the thermometer ceases to rise above the freezing-point. the rivers rapidly freeze; towards november all the streams of the white sea basin are covered with ice, and so remain for an average of days; those of the baltic, black sea, and caspian basins freeze later, but about december nearly all the rivers of the country are highways for sledges. the volga remains frozen for a period varying between days in the north and days at astrakhan, the don for to days, and the dneiper for to days. on the dwina ice prevents navigation for days and even the vistula at warsaw remains frozen for days. the lowest temperatures are experienced in january, in which month the average is as low as ° to ° fahr. throughout russia; in the west only does it rise above °. _the flora and fauna of russia_.--the flora of russia, which represents an intermediate link between those of germany and siberia, is strikingly uniform over a very large area. though not poor at any given place, it appears so if the space occupied by russia be taken into account, only , species of phanerogams and ferns being known. four great regions may be distinguished:--the arctic, the forest, the steppe, and the circum-mediterranean. the _arctic region_ comprises the _tundras_ of the arctic littoral beyond the northern limit of forests, which last closely follows the coast-line with bends towards the north in the river valleys ( ° n. lat. in finland, on the arctic circle about archangel, ° n. on the urals, ° on west siberia). the shortness of summer, the deficiency of drainage and the thickness of the layer of soil which is frozen through in winter are the elements which go to the making of the characteristic features of the _tundras_. their flora is far nearer those of northern siberia and north america than that of central europe. mosses and lichens cover them, as also the birch, the dwarf willow, and a variety of shrubs; but where the soil is drier, and humus has been able to accumulate, a variety of herbaceous flowering plants, some of which are familiar also in western europe, make their appearance. the _forest region_ of the russian botanists occupies the greater part of the country, from the arctic _tundras_ to the steppes, and it maintains over this immense surface a remarkable uniformity of character. viewed as a whole, the flora of the forest region must be regarded as european-siberian; and though certain species disappear towards the east, while new ones make their appearance, it maintains, on the whole, the same characters throughout from poland to kamchatka. thus the beech, a characteristic tree of western europe, is unable to face the continental climate of russia, and does not penetrate beyond poland and the south-western provinces, reappearing again in the crimea. the silver fir does not extend over russia, and the oak does not cross the urals. on the other hand, several asiatic species (siberian pine, larch, cedar) grow freely in the north-east, while several shrubs and herbaceous plants, originally from the asiatic steppes, have spread into the south-east. but all these do not greatly alter the general character of the vegetation. the _region of the steppes_, which covers all southern russia, may be subdivided into two zones--an intermediate zone and that of the steppes proper. the ante-steppe of the preceding region and the intermediate zone of the steppes include those tracts where the west-european climate struggles with the asiatic, and where a struggle is being carried on between the forest and the steppe. the steppes proper are very fertile elevated plains, slightly undulated, and intersected by numerous ravines which are dry in summer. the undulations are scarcely apparent to the eye as it takes in a wide prospect under a blazing sun and with a deep-blue sky overhead. not a tree is to be seen, the few woods and thickets being hidden in the depressions and deep valleys of the rivers. on the thick sheet of black earth by which the steppe is covered a luxuriant vegetation develops in spring; after the old grass has been burned a bright green covers immense stretches, but this rapidly disappears under the burning rays of the sun and the hot easterly winds. the colouring of the steppe changes as if by magic, and only the silvery plumes of the _kovyl_ (_stipa pennata_) wave under the wind, giving the steppe the aspect of a bright, yellow sea. for days together the traveller sees no other vegetation; even this, however, disappears as he nears the regions recently left dry from the caspian, where salted clays covered with a few _salsolace�_, or mere sands, take the place of the black earth. here begins the aral-caspian desert. the steppe, however, is not so devoid of trees as at first sight appears. innumerable clusters of wild cherries, wild apricots, and other deep-rooted shrubs grow in the depressions of the surface, and on the slopes of the ravines, giving the steppe that charm which manifests itself in popular poetry. unfortunately, the spread of cultivation is fatal to these oases (they are often called "islands" by the inhabitants); the axe and the plough ruthlessly destroy them. the vegetation of the _poimy_ and _zaimischas_ in the marshy bottoms of the ravines, and in the valleys of streams and rivers, is totally different. the moist soil gives free development to thickets of various willows, bordered with dense walls of worm-wood and needle-bearing _composita_, and interspersed with rich but not extensive prairies harbouring a great variety of herbaceous plants; while in the deltas of the black sea rivers impenetrable masses of rush shelter a forest fauna. but cultivation rapidly changes the physiognomy of the steppe. the prairies are superseded by wheat-fields, and flocks of sheep destroy the true steppe-grass (_stipa-pennata_), which retires farther east. the _circum-mediterranean region_ is represented by a narrow strip of land on the south coast of the crimea, where a climate similar to that of the mediterranean coast has permitted the development of a flora closely resembling that of the valley of the arno. [illustration: revel] the fauna of european russia does not very materially differ from that of western europe. in the forests not many animals which have disappeared from western europe have held their ground; while in the urals only a few--now siberian, but formerly also european--are met with. on the whole, russia belongs to the same zoo-geographical region as central europe and northern asia, the same fauna extending in siberia as far as the yenisei and lena. in south-eastern russia, however, towards the caspian, we find a notable admixture of asiatic species, the deserts of that part of russia belonging in reality rather to the aral-caspian depression than to europe. for the zoo-geographer only three separate sub-regions appear on the east-european plains--the _tundras_, including the arctic islands, the forest region, especially the coniferous part of it, and the ante-steppe and steppes of the black-earth region. the ural mountains might be distinguished as a fourth sub-region, while the south-coast of the crimea and caucasus, as well as the caspian deserts, have their own individuality. as for the adjoining seas, the fauna of the arctic ocean off the norwegian coast corresponds, in its western parts at least, to that of the north atlantic gulf stream. the white sea and the arctic ocean to the east of svyatoi nos belong to a separate zoological region connected with, and hardly separable from, that part of the arctic ocean which extends along the siberian coast as far as to about the lena. the black sea, of which the fauna was formerly little known but now appears to be very rich, belongs to the mediterranean region, slightly modified, while the caspian partakes of the characteristic fauna inhabiting the lakes and seas of the aral-caspian depression. in the region of the _tundras_ life has to contend with such unfavourable conditions that it cannot be abundant. still the reindeer frequents it for its lichens, and on the drier slopes of the moraine deposits four species of lemming, hunted by the _canis lagopus_, find quarters. two species of the white partridge, the lark, one _plectrophanes_, two or three species of _sylvia_, one _phylloscopus_, and the _motacilla_ must be added. numberless aquatic birds, however, visit it for breeding purposes. ducks, divers, geese, gulls, all the russian species of snipes and sandpipers, etc., cover the marshes of the _tundras_, or the crags of the lapland coast. the forest region, and especially its coniferous portion, though it has lost some of its representatives within historic times, is still rich. the reindeer, rapidly disappearing, is now met with only in olonetz and vologda; the _cervus pygargus_ is found everywhere, and reaches novgorod. the weasel, the fox and the hare are exceedingly common, as also the wolf and the bear in the north; but the glutton, the lynx, and even the elk are rapidly disappearing. the wild boar is confined to the basin of the dwina, and the _bison eropea_ to the bielovyezha forests. the sable has quite disappeared, being found only on the urals; the beaver is found at a few places in minsk, and the otter is very rare. on the other hand, the hare and also the grey partridge, the hedgehog, the quail, the lark, the rook, and the stork find their way into the coniferous region as the forests are cleared. the avifauna is very rich; it includes all the forest and garden birds which are known in western europe, as well as a very great variety of aquatic birds. hunting and shooting give occupation to a great number of persons. the reptiles are few. as for fishes, all those of western europe, except the carp, are met with in the lakes and rivers in immense quantities, the characteristic feature of the region being its wealth in _coregoni_ and in _salmonid�_ generally. in the ante-steppe the forest species proper, such as _pteromys volans_ and _tamias striatus_, disappear, but the common squirrel, the weasel, and the bear are still met with in the forests. the hare is increasing rapidly, as well as the fox. the avifauna, of course, becomes poorer; nevertheless the woods of the steppe, and still more the forests of the ante-steppe, give refuge to many birds, even to the hazel-hen, the woodcock and the black-grouse. the fauna of the thickets at the bottom of the river-valleys is decidedly, rich and includes aquatic birds. the destruction of the forests and the advance of wheat into the prairies are rapidly impoverishing the steppe fauna. the various species of rapacious animals are disappearing, together with the colonies of marmots; the insectivores are also becoming scarce in consequence of the destruction of insects, while vermin, such as the suslik (_spermophilus_), become a real plague, as also the destructive insects which have been a scourge to agriculture during recent years. the absence of _coregoni_ is a characteristic feature of the fish-fauna of the steppes; the carp, on the contrary, reappears, and the rivers are rich in sturgeons. on the volga below nijni novgorod the sturgeon, and others of the same family, as also a very great variety of ganoids and _teleostei_, appear in such quantities that they give occupation to nearly , people. the mouths of the caspian rivers are especially celebrated for their wealth of fish. _siberia_ _jean jacques ÉlisÉe reclus_ siberia is emphatically the "land of the north." its name has by some etymologists been identified with "severia," a term formerly applied to various northern regions of european russia. the city of sibir, which has given its name to the whole of north asia, was so called only by the russians, its native name being isker. the cossacks, coming from the south and centre of russia, may have naturally regarded as pre-eminently the "northern land" those cold regions of the ob basin lying beyond the snowy mountains which form the "girdle of the world." long before the conquest of sibir by the cossacks, this region was known to the arab traders and missionaries. the tatars of sibir were mahommedans and this town was the centre of the great fur trade. the russians themselves had constant relations with the inhabitants of the asiatic slopes of the urals, and the novgorodians were acquainted with the regions stretching "beyond the portages." early in the sixteenth century the moscow tsars, heirs of the novgorod power, called themselves lords of obdoria and kondina; that is of all the lower ob basin between the konda and the irtish confluence, and the station of obdorsk, under the arctic circle. their possessions--that is, the hunting grounds visited by the russian agents of the strogonov family--consequently skirted the great river for a distance of miles. but the slav power was destined soon to be consolidated by conquest, and such is the respect inspired by force that the successful expedition of a cossack brigand, on whose head a price had been set, was supposed to have led to the discovery of siberia, although really preceded by many visits of a peaceful character. even still the conquering yermak is often regarded as a sort of explorer of the lands beyond the urals. but he merely establishes himself as a master where the strogonov traders had been received as guests. maps of the ob and of the ostiak country had already been published by sebastian munster and by herberstein a generation before the cossacks entered sibir. the very name of this town is marked on munster's map. in , yermak began the second plundering expedition, which in two years resulted in the capture of the tatar kingdom. when the conquerors entered sibir they had been reduced from over to about men. but this handful represented the power of the tsars and yermak could sue for pardon, with the offer of a kingdom as his ransom. before the close of the sixteenth century the land had been finally subdued. sibir itself, which stood on a high bluff on the right bank of the irtish, exists no more, having probably been swept away by the erosions of the stream. but ten miles farther down another capital, tobolsk, arose, also on the right bank, and the whole of the north was gradually added to the tsar's dominions. the fur trappers, more even than the soldiers, were the real conquerors of siberia. nevertheless, many battles had to be fought down to the middle of the seventeenth century. the buriats of the angora basin, the koriaks, and other tribes long held out; but most of the land was peacefully acquired, and permanently secured by the forts erected by the cossacks at the junction of the rivers, at the entrance of the mountain passes, and other strategic points. history records no other instance of such a vast dominion so rapidly acquired, and with such slender means, by a handful of men acting mostly on their own impulse, without chiefs or instructions from the centre of authority. even china allowed the cossacks to settle on the banks of the amur, though the treaty of nerchinsk required the russians to withdraw from that basin in . but during the present century they have been again attracted to this region, and the government of st. petersburg is now fully alive to the advantages of a free access by a large navigable stream to the pacific seaboard. hence, in , muraviov established the factory of nikolaievsk, near the mouth of the amur, and those of mariinsk and alexandrovsk at either end of the portage connecting that river with the bay of castries. during the crimean war its left bank was definitely secured by a line of fortified posts, and in a ukase confirmed the possession of a territory torn from china in time of peace. lastly, in , while the anglo-french forces were entering pekin, russia obtained without a blow the cession of the region south of the amur and east of the ussuri, stretching along the coast to the corean frontier. and thus was completed the reduction of the whole of north asia, a territory of itself alone far more extensive than the european continent. in other respects there is, of course, no point of comparison between these two regions. this siberian world, where vast wildernesses still remain to be explored, has a foreign trade surpassed by that of many a third-rate european seaport, such as dover or boulogne. embracing a thirteenth part of the dry land on the surface of the globe, its population falls short of that of london alone; it is even more sparsely peopled than caucasia and turkestan, having little over one inhabitant to , acres. accurate surveys of the physical features and frontier-lines are still far from complete. only quite recently the first circumnavigation of the old world round the northern shores of siberia has been accomplished by the swedish explorer, nordenskjöld. the early attempts made by willoughby, chancellor, and burrough failed even to reach the siberian coast. hoping later on to reach china by ascending the ob to the imaginary lake kitaï--that is, kathay, or china--the english renewed their efforts to discover the "north-east passage," and in two vessels, commanded by arthur ket and charles jackman, sailed for the arctic ocean; but they never got beyond the kara sea. the dutch succeeded no better, none of the voyages undertaken by barents and others between and reaching farther than the spitzbergen and novaya zembla waters. nor were these limits exceeded by hendrick hudson in . this was the last attempt made by the navigators of west europe; but the russian traders and fishers of the white sea were familiar with the routes to the ob and yenisei gulfs, as is evident from a map published in by boris godunov. however, sixteen years afterwards the navigation of these waters was interdicted under pain of death, lest foreigners should discover the way to the siberian coast. [illustration: siberian natives.] the exploration of this seaboard had thus to be prosecuted in siberia itself by means of vessels built for the river navigation. in , the cossack dejnev sailed with a flotilla of small craft from the kolîma round the north-east extremity of asia, passing long before the birth of bering through the strait which now bears the name of that navigator. stadukhin also explored these eastern seas in search of the islands full of fossil ivory, of which he had heard from the natives. in , pronchishchev and lasinius embarked at yakutsk and sailed down the lena, exploring its delta and neighbouring coasts. pronchishchev reached a point east of the taimir peninsula, but failed to double the headlands between the lena and the yenisei estuaries. the expedition begun by laptiev in , after suffering shipwreck, was continued overland, resulting in the exploration of the taimir peninsula and the discovery of the north cape of the old world, pliny's tabin, and the cheluskin of modern maps, so named from the pilot who accompanied pronchishchev and laptiev. the western seaboard between the yenisei and ob estuaries had already been surveyed by ovtzin and minin in - . but the problem was already being attacked from the side of the pacific ocean. in , the danish navigator, bering, in the service of russia, crossed siberia overland to the pacific, whence he sailed through the strait now named from him, and by him first revealed to the west, though known to the siberian cossacks eighty years previously. even bering himself, hugging the asiatic coast, had not descried the opposite shores of america, and was uncertain as to the exact position of the strait. this point was not cleared up till cook's voyage of , and even after that the sakhalin, yezo and kurile waters still remained to be explored. the shores of the mainland and islands were first traced by la pérouse, who determined the insular character of sakhalin, and ascertained the existence of a strait connecting the japanese sea with that of okhotsk. this completed the general survey of the whole siberian seaboard. the scientific exploration of the interior began in the eighteenth century with messerschmidt, followed by gmelin, müller, and delisle de la croyère, who determined many important physical points between the years and . the region stretching beyond lake baikal was explored by pallas and his associates in - . the expeditions, interrupted by the great wars following on the french revolution, were resumed in by the norwegian hansteen, whose memorable expedition in company with erman had such important results for the study of terrestrial magnetism. while hansteen and erman were still prosecuting their labours in every branch of natural science, alexander von humboldt, ehrenberg, and gustav rose made a short visit to siberia, which, however, remained one of the most important in the history of science. middendorff's journeys to north and east siberia had also some very valuable results, and were soon followed, in , by the "expedition to siberia" undertaken by schwartz, schmidt, glehn, usoltzev, and associates, extending over the whole region of the trans-baikal to the lena and northern tributaries of the amur. thus began the uninterrupted series of modern journeys, which are now being systematically continued in every part of siberia, and which promise soon to leave no blanks on the chart of that region. the work of geographical discovery, properly so called, may be said to have been brought to a close by nordenskjöld's recent determination of the north-east passage, vainly attempted by willoughby, barents, and so many other illustrious navigators. such a vast region as siberia, affected in the west by atlantic, in the east by pacific influences, and stretching north and south across ° of latitude, must obviously present great diversities of climate. even this bleak land has its temperate zones, which the slav colonists are fond of calling their "italies." nevertheless as compared with europe, siberia may, on the whole, be regarded as a country of extreme temperatures--relatively great heats, and, above all, intense colds. the very term "siberian" has justly become synonymous with a land of winds, frosts, and snows. the mean annual temperature in this region comprised between the rivers anabara and indigirka is ° fahr. below freezing point. the pole of cold, oscillating diversely with the force of the lateral pressure from yakutsk to the lena estuary, is the meteorological centre round which the atmosphere revolves. here are to a large extent prepared the elements of the climate of west europe. travellers speak of the siberian winters with mingled feelings of terror and rapture. an infinite silence broods over the land--all is buried in deep sleep. the animals hibernate in their dens, the streams have ceased to flow, disappearing beneath the ice and snow; the earth, of a dazzling whiteness in the centre of the landscape, but grey in the distance, nowhere offers a single object to arrest the gaze. the monotony of endless space is broken by no abrupt lines or vivid tints. the only contrast with the dull expanse of land is the everlasting azure sky, along which the sun creeps at a few degrees only above the horizon. in these intensely cold latitudes it rises and sets with hard outlines, unsoftened by the ruddy haze elsewhere encircling it on the edge of the horizon. yet such is the strength of its rays that the snow melts on the housetop exposed to its glare, while in the shade the temperature is ° to ° below freezing point. at night, when the firmament is not aglow with the many-tinted lights and silent coruscations of the aurora borealis, the zodiacal light and the stars still shine with intense brightness. to this severe winter, which fissures the surface and rends the rocks of the rivers into regular basalt-like columns, there succeeds a sudden and delightful spring. so instantaneous is the change that nature seems as if taken by surprise and rudely awakened. the delicate green of the opening leaf, the fragrance of the budding flowers, the intoxicating balm of the atmosphere, the radiant brightness of the heavens, all combine to impart to mere existence a voluptuous gladness. to siberians visiting the temperate climes of western europe, spring seems to be unknown beyond their lands. but these first days of new life are followed by a chill, gusty and changeful interval, arising from the atmospheric disturbances caused by the thawing of the vast snowy wastes. a relapse is then experienced analogous to that too often produced in england by late east winds. the apple blossom is now nipped by the night frosts falling in the latter part of may. hence no apples can be had in east siberia, although the summer heats are otherwise amply sufficient for the ripening of fruit. after the fleeting summer, winter weather again sets in. it will often freeze at night in the middle of july; and after the th of august the sear leaf begins to fall, and in a few days all are gone, except perhaps the foliage of the larch. the snow will even sometimes settle early in august on the still leafy branches, bending and breaking them with its weight. below the surface of the ground, winter reigns uninterrupted even by the hottest summers. with its vast extent and varied climate, siberia naturally embraces several vegetable zones, differing more from each other even than those of europe. the southern steppes have a characteristic and well-marked flora, forming a continuation of that of the aral, caspian and volga plains. the treeless northern _tundras_ also constitute a vegetable domain as sharply defined as the desert itself, while between these two zones of steppe and _tundra_ the forest region of europe stretches, with many subdivisions, west and east right across the continent. of these subdivisions the chief are those of the ob, yenisei, lena, and amur basins. beyond the northern _tundras_ and southern steppes by far the greatest space is occupied by the forest zone. from the urals to kamchatka the dense _taiga_, or woodlands are interrupted only by the streams, a few natural glades and some tracts under cultivation. the term _taiga_ is used in a general way for all lands under timber, but east of the altai it is applied more especially to the moist and spongy region overgrown with tangled roots and thickets, where the _mari_, or peat bogs, and marshes alternate with the _padi_, or narrow ravines. the miners call by this name the wooded mountains where they go in search of auriferous sands. but everywhere the _taiga_ is the same dreary forest, without grass, birds, or insects, gloomy and lifeless, and noiseless but for the soughing of the wind and crackling of the branches. the most common tree in the _taiga_ is the larch, which best resists the winter frost and summer chills. but the siberian woodlands also include most of the trees common to temperate europe--the linden, alder, juniper, service, willow, aspen, poplar, birch, cherry, apricot--whose areas are regulated according to the nature of the soil, the elevation or aspect of the land. towards the south-east, on the chinese frontier, the birch is encroaching on the indigenous species, and the natives regard this as a sure prognostic of the approaching rule of the "white tsar." conflagrations are very frequent in the siberian forests, caused either by lightning, the woodmen, or hunters, and sometimes spreading over vast spaces till arrested by rivers, lakes or morasses. one of the pleasures of siberian travelling is the faint odour of the woods burning in the distance. the native flora is extremely rich in berries of every kind, supplying food for men and animals. the extreme eastern regions of the amur basin and russian manchuria, being warmer, more humid and fertile, also abound more in animal life than the other parts of asiatic russia. on the other hand, the siberian bear, deer, roebuck, hare, squirrel, marmot and mole are about one-third larger, and often half as heavy again as their european congeners. this is doubtless due partly to the greater abundance of nourishment along the rivers and shores of siberia, and partly to the fact that for ages the western species have been more preyed upon by man, living in a constant state of fear, and mostly perishing before attaining their full development. the arctic seas abound probably as much as the pacific ocean with marine animals. nordenskjöld found the siberian waters very rich in molluscs and other lower organisms, implying a corresponding abundance of larger animals. hence fishing, perhaps more than navigation, will be the future industry of the siberian coast populations. cetacea, fishes, molluscs, and other marine organisms are cast up in such quantities along both sides of bering strait that the bears and other omnivorous creatures have here become very choice as to their food. but on some parts of the coast in the chukchi country whales are never stranded, and since the arrival of the russians certain species threaten to disappear altogether. the _rhytina stelleri_, a species of walrus formerly frequenting bering strait in millions, was completely exterminated between the years - . many of the fur-bearing animals, which attracted the cossacks from the urals to the sea of okhotsk, and which were the true cause of the conquest of siberia, have become extremely rare. their skins are distinguished, above all others, for their great softness, warmth, lightness, and bright colours. the more alpine or continental the climate, the more beautiful and highly prized become the furs, which diminish in gloss towards the coast and in west siberia, where the south-west winds prevail. the sables of the north urals are of small value, while those of the upper lena, fifteen degrees farther south, are worth a king's ransom. many species assume a white coat in winter, whereby they are difficult to be distinguished from the surrounding snows. amongst these are the polar hare and fox, the ermine, the campagnol, often even the wolf and reindeer, besides the owl, yellow-hammer, and some other birds. those which retain their brown or black colour are mostly such as do not show themselves in winter. the fur of the squirrels also varies with the surrounding foliage, those of the pine forests being ruddy, those of the cedar, _taiga_, and firs inclining to brown, and all varying in intensity of colour with that of the vegetation. other species besides the peltry-bearing animals have diminished in numbers since the arrival of the russian hunters. the reindeer, which frequented the south siberian highlands, and whose domain encroached on that of the camel, is now found only in the domestic state amongst the soyotes of the upper yenisei and is met with in the wild state only in the dwarf forests and _tundras_ of the far north. the argali has withdrawn to mongolia from the siberian mountains and plains, where he was still very common at the end of the last century. on the other hand, cold and want of food yearly drive great numbers of antelopes and wild horses from the gobi steppes towards the siberian lowlands, tigers, wolves and other beasts of prey following in their track, and returning with them in the early spring. several new species of animals have been introduced by man and modified by crossings in the domestic state. in the north, the samoyeds, chukchis, and kamchadales have the reindeer and dog, while the horse and ox are everywhere the companions of man in the peopled regions of siberia. the yak has been tamed by the soyotes of the upper yenisei, and the camel, typical of a distinctly eastern civilization, follows the nomads of the kirghiz and mongolian steppes. all these domesticated animals seem to have acquired special qualities and habits from the various indigenous or russian peoples of siberia. _the russian races_ _w. r. morfill_ the vast empire of russia, as may be readily imagined, is peopled by many different races. these may ethnologically be catalogued as follows: i. sclavonic races, the most important in numbers and culture. under this head may be classified:-- ( ) the great russians, or russians properly so called, especially occupying the governments round about moscow, and from thence scattered in the north to novgorod and vologda, on the south to kiev and to voronezh, on the east to penza, simbirsk, and viatka, and on the west to the baltic provinces. moreover, the great russians, as the ruling race, are to be found in small numbers in all quarters of the empire. they amount to about , , . ( ) little russians (malorossiani), dwelling south of the russians, upon the shores of the black sea. these, together with the rusniaks, amount to , , . the cossacks come under these two races. to the great russians belong the don cossacks, with those sprung from them--the kouban, stavropol, khoperski, volga, mosdok, kizlarski and grebenski. [illustration: samoyedes of nova zembla.] to the little russian: the malorossiiski, with those sprung from them--the zaporoghian, black sea (chernomorski), and those of azov and of the danube. ( ) the white russians, inhabiting the western governments. their number amounts to , , . ( ) poles, living in the former kingdom of poland and the western governments of the empire. their number amounts to , , . ( ) servians, bulgarians, and other slavs, inhabiting especially bessarabia and the country called new russia. their number reaches , . ii. the non-sclavonic races comprise either original inhabitants of the country who have been subdued by the russians, or later comers. among races originally inhabiting the country, and subjugated by the russians, are included--the lithuanians and letts, the finns, the samoyeds, the mongol-manzhurians, the races of eastern siberia, the turko-tartar, the caucasian, the german, and the hebrew. . the lithu-lettish race inhabits the country between the western dwina and the nieman. in numbers they do not amount to more than , , . the lithu-lettish population is divided into the two following branches:-- (a) the lithuanians properly so called (including the samogitans or zhmudes), who inhabit the governments of vilno, kovno, courland, and the northern parts of those of augustovo and grodno ( , , ). (b) the letts, who inhabit the governments of courland, vitebsk, livonia, kovno, pskov, and st. petersburg ( , , ). . the finnish race--known in the old sclavonic chronicles under the name of chouds--at one time inhabited all the north-eastern part of russia. the finns, according to the place of their habitation, are divided into four groups:--the baltic finns, the finns in the governments of the volga, the cis-oural and the trans-oural finns. (a) the baltic finns: the chouds (in the governments of novgorod and olonetz); the livonians (in courland); the esthonians (in the governments of esthonia, livonia, vitebsk, pskov, and st. petersburg); the lopari (in northern finland and in the government of archangel); the corelians (in the government of archangel, novgorod, olonetz, st. petersburg, tver, and jaroslav); evremeiseti (in the governments of novgorod and st. petersburg), savakoti, vod, and izhora. (b) to the finns of the governments of the volga, who have become almost lost in the russians, belong the cheremisians (in the governments of kazan, viatka, kostroma, nijni-novgorod, orenburg and perm). (c) to the cis-uralian finns, who occupy the country from the borders of finland to the oural, belong the permiaks (in the governments of viatka and perm); zîranians (in the governments of archangel and vologda); votiaks (in the governments of viatka and kazan); and vogoulichi (in the governments of perm). (d) among the trans-oural finns are also to be numbered the zîranians and vogoulichi (the first in the government of tobolsk, and the second in the governments of tobolsk and tomsk); and the ostiaks, who, according to the places of their habitation, are called obski and berezovski. the finns amount altogether to , , . . the samoyeds, in number , , live in the territory extending from the white sea to the yenesei; to these belong the samoyeds properly so called, the narîmski and the yenesei ostiaks, the olennie choukchi, etc. . the mongolo-manzhourian race amounting to , . among this race may be remarked the mongolians properly so called, on the selenga; the kalmucks, a nomad people in the government of astrakhan, as also in tomsk, in the country of the don cossacks, and partly in the government of stavropol. the kalmucks appeared first on the eastern confines of russia in the year . about a century later we find them become the regular subjects of the tsar. they seem, however, to have found the russian yoke irksome, and resolved to return to their original home on the coasts of lake balkach, and at the foot of the altai mountains. nearly the whole nation, amounting to almost , persons, began their march in the winter of - . the passage of this vast horde lasted for weeks, but the rear were prevented from escaping by the kirghiz and cossacks, who intercepted them. they were compelled to remain in russia, where their territory was more accurately defined than had been done previously. the kalmucks are obliged to serve with the cossack troops, but their duties are mostly confined to looking after the cattle and horses which accompany the army. their religion is buddhism, and a conspicuous object in the aouls, or temporary villages which they construct, is the pagoda. their personal appearance is by no means prepossessing--small eyes and high cheekbones, with scanty hair of a very coarse texture. in every sense of the word they are still strictly nomads; their children and tents are carried by camels, and in a few hours their temporary village, or oulous, is established. to these also belong the bouriats, by lake baikal; the toungusians from the yenesei to the amur; the lamorets, by the sea of okhotsk; and the olentzi, in the government of irkutsk. . races of eastern siberia: the koriaks, living in the north-eastern corner of siberia; the youkagirs, in the territory of yakutsk; the kamchadales, in kamchatka. their number amounts to , . . the turko-tartar race amount in number to , , . to their branch belong the chouvashes, in the governments of orenburg, simbursk, saratov and samaria; the mordvinians, in the same governments as the chouvashes,[ ] and in those of tambov, penza, and nijni-novgorod; the tartars of the crimea and kazan; the nagais, on the kouban and don; the mestcheriaki, in the governments of orenburg, perm, saratov, and viatka; koumki, in the caucasus; kirghizi, yakouti, on the lena; troukhmentzi and khivintzi; karakalpaks (lit. black caps), teleoûti, in the government of tomsk, siberia. [footnote : some writers consider the chouvashes to belong to the finnish race.] . the caucasian races inhabiting georgia, the valleys and defiles of the caucasian mountains have different appellations and different origins. among them may be noticed the armenians, georgians, circassians, abkhasians, lesghians, osetintzi, chechentzi, kistentzi, toushi, and others. their number is about , , . the languages of the caucasus must be regarded as a group distinct both from the aryan and semitic families. they are agglutinative, and are divided into two branches. (a) the northern division, extending along the northern slopes of the caucasus, between the caspian and the northern shores of the black sea, as far as the straits of yenikale; its subdivisions are lesghian, kistian, and circassian, each with its dialects. formerly the circassians numbered about , , but large numbers of them emigrated to european turkey, where they were dexterously planted by the government to impede the social progress of their bulgarian and greek subjects. (b) the southern division, comprising georgian, suanian, mingrelian, and lazian. . the german race, in number about , , . the germans are chiefly in the baltic provinces, in the government of st. petersburg, in the grand duchy of finland, and the colonies, especially those on the lower volga, the don, the crimea, and new russia. the germans have acquired great influence throughout the country; they are represented in the court, in the army, and in the administration. here also may be mentioned the swedes, amounting to , . . the jews inhabit especially the former kingdom of poland, the western governments, and the crimea. their number amounts to , , . among the jews the karaimite are noticeable, living in the governments of vilno, volinia, kovno, kherson, and the taurida. among the europeans and asiatics who have come in later times to settle in russia, are greeks, amounting to , , in the governments of new russia and chernigov; french, italians, and englishmen, in the capitals and chief commercial towns; wallachians or moldavians (now generally included under the name of roumanians), in bessarabia; albanians; gipsies, especially in the territory of bessarabia, amounting to , ; persians, to , , etc. _the history of russia_ _w. r. morfill_ i shall follow the divisions given in his first volume by oustrialov. he divides russian history into two great parts, the ancient and modern. i. ancient history from the commencement of russia to the time of peter the great ( - ). this first period is subdivided into (_a_) the foundation of russia and the combination of the sclavonians into a political unity under the leadership of the normans and by means of the christian faith under vladimir and the legislation of yaroslav. according to the theory commonly received at the present day, the foundation of the russian empire was laid by rurik at novgorod. the name russian seems to be best explained as meaning "the seamen" from the finnish name for the swedes or norsemen, ruotsi, which itself is a corruption of a scandinavian word. it has been shown by thomsen, that all the names mentioned in early russian history admit of a scandinavian explanation; thus ingar becomes igor, and helga, oleg. in a few generations the scandinavian origin of the settlers was forgotten. the grandson of rurik, sviatoslav, has a purely sclavonic name. christianity was introduced into the country by vladimir, and the first code of russian laws was promulgated by yaroslav, called rousskaia pravda, of which a transcript was found among the chronicles of novgorod. (_b_) breaking up of russia, under the system of appanages, into some confederate principalities, governed by the descendants of rurik. this unfortunate disruption of the country paved the way for the invasion of the mongols, whose domination lasted for nearly two centuries. during their occupation the russians were ingrafted with many oriental habits, which were only partially removed by peter the great, and in fact many of them have lasted till the present day. the influence of the mongolians upon the national language has been greatly exaggerated, as the words introduced are confined almost exclusively to articles of dress, money, etc. had the conquests of the mongols been permanent, russia would have become definitely attached to asia, to which its geographical position seems to assign it. (_c_) division of russia into eastern and western under the mongolian yoke - . this is a very dreary period of the national history. (_d_) formation in eastern russia of the government of moscow - , which by the energy of its princes became the nucleus of the future empire; and in western russia of the principality of lithuania, and its union with poland - . (_e_) consolidation of the muscovite power under ivan iii., who married the daughter of the greek emperor, and succeeded in expelling the tartars, and making himself master of their city kazan. he was followed by his son vasilii, who was succeeded by ivan iv., who has gained a very unenviable reputation on account of his cruelties. already the yoke of the tartars had begun to have a very deteriorating effect upon the russian character, and the more sanguinary code of the asiatics had effaced the tradition of the laws of yaroslav. mutilation, flagellation, and the abundant use of the knout prevailed. the servile custom of chelobitye, or knocking the head on the ground, which was exacted from all subjects on entering the royal presence, was certainly of tartar origin, as also the punishment inflicted upon refractory debtors, called the pravezh. they were beaten on the shins in a public square every day from eight to eleven o'clock, till the money was paid. the custom is fully described by giles fletcher and olearius. another strange habit, savouring too much of the tartar servitude, was that recorded by peter heylin in his _little description of the great world_ (oxford, ), who says: "it is the custom over all muscovie, that a maid in time of wooing sends to that suitor whom she chooseth for her husband such a whip curiously by herself wrought, in token of her subjection unto him." a russian writer also tells us that it was usual for the husband on the wedding day to give his bride a gentle stroke over the shoulders with his whip, to show his power over her. herberstein's story of the german jordan and his russian wife will perhaps occur to some of my readers. she complained to her husband that he did not love her; but upon his expressing surprise at the doubt, she gave as her reason that he had never beaten her! indeed the position of a woman in russia till the time of peter was a very melancholy one. her place in society is accurately marked out in the domostroi, or regulations for governing one's household, written at the time of ivan the terrible. as this book presents us with some very curious pictures of russian family life in the olden time, a few words may be permitted describing its contents. it was written by the monk sylvester, who was one of the chief counsellors of ivan, and at one time in great favour with him, but afterwards fell into disgrace and was banished by the capricious tyrant to the solovetzki monastery, where he died. the work was primarily addressed by the worthy priest to his son anthemus and his daughter-in-law, pelagia, but as the bulk of it was of a general character it soon became used in all households. nothing escapes this father of the church from the duties of religion, down to the minor details of the kitchen and the mysteries of cookery. the wife is constantly recommended to practise humility, in a way which would probably be repulsive to many of our modern ladies. her industry in weaving and making clothes among her domestics is very carefully dwelt upon. she lived in a kind of oriental seclusion, and saw no one except her nearest relatives. the bridegroom knew nothing of his bride, she was only allowed to be seen a few times before marriage by his female relatives, and on these occasions all kinds of tricks were played. a stool was placed under her feet that she might seem taller, or a handsome female attendant, or a better-looking sister were substituted. "nowhere," says kotoshikhin, "is there such trickery practised with reference to the brides as at moscow." the innovations of peter the great broke through the oriental seclusion of the terem, as the women's apartments were called. during the minority of ivan iv. the regency was committed to the care of his mother elena, and was at best but a stormy period. when i van came to the throne the country was not even yet free from the incursions of the tartars. in hakluyt's voyages we have a curious account of one of these devastations in a "letter of richard vscombe to m. henrie lane, touching the burning of the city of mosco by the crimme tartar, written the fifth day of august, ." "the mosco is burnt every sticke by the crimme, the th day of may last, and an innumerable number of people; and in the english house was smothered thomas southam, tosild, waverley, green's wife and children, two children of rafe, and more to the number of twenty-five persons were stifled in oure beere seller, and yet in the same seller was rafe, his wife, john browne, and john clarke preserved, which was wonderful. and there went to that seller master glover and master rowley also; but because the heat was so great they came foorth againe with much perill, so that a boy at their heeles was taken with the fire, yet they escaped blindfold into another seller, and there as god's will was they were preserved. the emperor fled out of the field, and many of his people were carried away by the crimme tartar. and so with exceeding much spoile and infinite prisoners, they returned home againe. what with the crimme on the one side and his cruelties on the other, he hath but few people left" (hakluyt, i. ). [illustration: room of the tsar michailowitch, moscow.] it is well known that the english first became acquainted with russia in the time of ivan the terrible. in the reign of edward vi. a voyage was undertaken by sir hugh willoughby and richard chancellor, who attempted to reach russia by way of the north sea. willoughby and his crew were unfortunately lost, but chancellor succeeded in reaching moscow, and showing his letters to the tsar, in reply to which an alliance was concluded and an ambassador soon afterwards visited the english court. in spite of his brutal tyrannies, for which no apologies can be offered, although some of the russian authorities have attempted to gloss them over, the reign of ivan was distinctly progressive for russia. the introduction of the printing-press, the conquest of siberia, the development of commerce, were all in advance of what had been done by his predecessors. he also had the leading idea afterwards fully carried out by peter the great of extending the dominions on the north, and ensuring a footing on the baltic. the relations of ivan with england are fully described in the very interesting diary of sir jerome horsey, the ambassador from this country, the manuscript of which is preserved in the british museum. he was anxious to have an english wife, and elizabeth selected one for him, lady mary hastings, but when the bride-elect had been made acquainted with the circumstance that ivan had been married several times before, and was a most truculent and blood-thirsty sovereign, she entreated her father with many tears not to send her to such a man. the character given of ivan by horsey is very graphic, and is valuable as the narration of a person who had frequently been in intimate relations with the tsar. we give it in the original spelling:-- "thus much to conclude with this emperor ivan vasiliwich. he was a goodlie man of person and presence, well favoured, high forehead, shrill voice, a right sithian, full of readie wisdom, cruell, blondye, merciless; his own experience mannaged by direction both his state and commonwealth affairs; was sumptuously intomed in michell archangell church, where he, though guarded daye and night, remaines a fearfull spectacle to the memorie of such as pass by or heer his name spoken of [who] are contented to cross and bless themselves from his resurrection againe." passing over his feeble son, we come to the era of boris godunov, a man in many respects remarkable, but not the least that he saw the necessity of western culture. his plans for educating russia were extensive, and several youths were sent abroad for this purpose, including some to england. but his reign ended gloomily, and was followed by the period of the pretenders (samozvantzi), during which russia was rent by opposing factions; and almost ended in receiving a foreign sovereign, in the person of ladislaus (wladyslaw), the son of sigismund iii., the king of poland. the romanovs finally ascended the throne in the person of michael in . the son of michael, alexis, was a thoroughly reforming sovereign, and took many foreigners into his pay. with the reign of ivan v., son of alexis, closes the old period of russian history. ii. the new history from the days of peter the great to the present time. the reforms introduced into russia by peter the great are too well known to need recapitulation here. there will be always many different opinions about this wonderful man. some have not hesitated to say that he "knouted" russia into civilization; others can see traces of the hero mixed with much clay. one of the darkest pages in the annals of his reign, is that upon which is written the fate of his unfortunate son, alexis. all russia seems but one vast monument of his genius. he gave her six new provinces, a footing upon two seas, a regular army trained on the european system, a large fleet, an admiralty, and a naval academy; besides these, some educational establishments, a gallery of painting and sculpture, and a public library. nothing escaped his notice, even to such minutiæ as the alteration of russian letters to make them more adapted to printing, and changing the dress of his subjects so as to be more in conformity with european costume. all this interference savoured of despotism, no doubt, but it led to the consolidation of a great nationality. the russians belong to the european family, and must of necessity return to fulfil their destiny, although they had been temporarily diverted from their bondage under the mongols. owing to the mistake peter had committed in allowing the succession to be changed at the will of the ruling sovereign, the country was for some time after his death in the hands of russian and german adventurers. on the death of peter he was succeeded by his wife catherine, an amiable but illiterate woman, who was wholly under the influence of menshikov, one of peter's chief favourites. after a short reign of two years, she was succeeded by peter ii., son of the unfortunate alexis, in whose time menshikov and his family were banished to berezov in siberia. after his banishment, peter, who was a weak prince, and showed every inclination to undo his grandfather's work, fell under the influence of the dolgoroukis. there is something very touching in the fate of this poor child--he was but fifteen years of age when he died--tossed about amidst the opposing factions of the intriguing courtiers, each of whom cared nothing for the good of the country, but only how to find the readiest means to supplant his rival. the last words of the boy as he lay on his death-bed were, "get ready the sledge! i want to go to my sister!" alluding to the princess natalia, the other child of alexis who had died three years previously. on his death anne, duchess of courland, and daughter of ivan, the elder brother of peter, was called to the throne. after her death, by a second _révolution de palais_, elizabeth, the daughter of peter the great, was made sovereign. in this reign her alliance was concluded with maria theresa of austria, and during the seven years' war, a large russian force invaded prussia; another took berlin in . during the whole of her reign elizabeth was under the influence of favourites, or _vremenstchiki_, as the russians call them. she appears to have been an indolent, good-tempered woman, and exceedingly superstitious. during her reign russia made considerable progress in literature and culture. a national theatre, of which there had been a few germs even at so early a period as the youth of peter the great, was thoroughly developed, and at yaroslavl, volkov, the son of a merchant, earned such a reputation as an actor, that he was summoned to st. petersburg by elizabeth, who took him under her patronage. dramatists now sprang up on every side, but at first were merely translators of corneille, racine, and molière. the russian arms were successful during her reign, and the capture of berlin in , had a great effect upon european politics. two years afterwards elizabeth died, and her nephew peter iii. succeeded, who admired frederick the great, and at once made peace with him. this unfortunate man, however, only reigned six months, having been dethroned and put to death by order of his wife, who became empress of russia under the title of catherine ii. however unjustifiable the means may have been by which catherine became possessed of the throne, and in mere justice to her we must remember that she had been brutally treated by her husband, and was in hourly expectation of being immured for life in a dungeon by his orders, she exercised her power to the advantage of the country. in , a russian fleet appeared for the first time in the mediterranean, and the turkish navy was destroyed at chesme. by the treaty of kutchuk kainardji ( ), turkey was obliged to recognize the independence of the crimea, and cede to russia a considerable amount of territory. in , russia gained the crimea, and in , by the last partition of poland, a very large portion of that country. the subsequent events of the history are well known. paul, who succeeded catherine, was assassinated in . the reign of this emperor has been made very familiar to englishmen by the highly coloured portrait given by the traveller clarke, who laboured under the most aggravated russophobia. that paul did many cruel and capricious things does not admit of a doubt, but he was capable of generous feelings, and sometimes surprised people as much by his liberality as by his despotic conduct. thus he set kosciuscko at liberty as soon as he had ascended the throne; and there was a fine revenge in his compelling orlov to follow the coffins of peter and catherine, when by his order they were buried together in the petropavlovski church. alexander i., his son, added finland to the russian empire, and saw his country invaded by napoleon in . the horrors of this campaign have been well described by segur, wilson, and labaume. at his death in , his brother nicholas succeeded, not without opposition, which led to bloodshed and the execution of the five dekabrists (conspirators of december). the schemes of these men were impracticable; so little did the common people understand the very rudiments of liberalism, that when the soldiers were ordered to shout for konstitoutzia (the constitution, a word the foreign appearance of which shows how alien it was to the national spirit), one of them naively asked, if that was the name of the wife of the grand duke constantine. the policy of the emperor nicholas was one of complete isolation of the country, and the prevention of his subjects as much as possible from holding intercourse with the rest of europe, hence permission to travel was but sparingly given, nor were foreigners encouraged to visit russia. in , war broke out with persia, the result of which was that the latter power was compelled to cede erivan and the country as far as the araxes (or aras). russia also made further additions to her territory by the treaty of adrianople in , after diebich had crossed the balkans. in , the great polish rebellion broke out, which was crushed after much bloodshed in sept. , by the capture of warsaw. in , the russians assisted austria in crushing the revolt of her hungarian subjects. in broke out the crimean war, the details of which are so well known as to require no enumeration. peace was concluded between russia and the allies, after the death of the emperor nicholas in , who was succeeded by his son, alexander ii. the two great events of the reign of this monarch have been the emancipation of the serfs in , by which , , received their liberty, and the war with turkey. _church service_ _alfred maskell_ the history of the introduction and early progress of christianity in russia is involved in obscurity and overlaid with legendary stories. there is little doubt that it came from constantinople, and was not only rapidly spread, but firmly established in the country within a short space of time. the date most generally accepted is that of the reign of vladimir, the great prince of kief, grandson of olga. as dean stanley remarks in his _lectures on the eastern church_: "it coincides with a great epoch in europe, the close of the tenth century, when throughout the west the end of the world was fearfully expected, when the latin church was overclouded with the deepest despondency, when the papal see had become the prey of ruffians and profligates, then it was that the eastern church, silently and almost unconsciously, bore into the world her mightiest offspring." [illustration: church of the assumption, moscow.] the eastern church was then at the zenith of its splendour. the envoys sent by vladimir to constantinople to examine and report upon the religion which he had almost decided to adopt were dazzled with the magnificence of the ceremonial. they were wavering in their choice and weighing the merits of the different systems which had been brought before them. rome they had not seen; mohammedanism was foreign to their tastes; judaism had been found wanting; but the eastern church appealed strongly to their imaginations and barbaric love of splendour. hers was st. sophia, magnificent now, but how much more gorgeous then! every effort was made to win them, and the victory was easy. the intercourse of the newly formed empire of russia with byzantium was at that time great. the change of religion had been very sudden and it was necessary to build at once new edifices for the new order of things. it was naturally to byzantium that they turned for their form and ornament. very quickly churches arose. novgorod, the cradle of the empire and the capital until the removal to kief, was the metropolitan see, and the first cathedral is said to have been built there as early as a. d. . the form of a russian church underwent little change up to the seventeenth century. in the thirteenth century the architects imported from lombardy brought to bear on the exterior the style of the lombardic or romanesque architecture which had so long prevailed in their own country. the gilded dome or cupola, of peculiar onion-shaped form which is so especially russian, was added soon afterwards. the central cupola, which was adopted from the first, was afterwards surrounded by others; their number reached even to twenty or thirty, and it was not until the sixteenth century at the time of the establishment of the patriarchate ( ), that these were authoritatively restricted to five, which is now the orthodox and obligatory number. the practice of having two, three, five, seven, nine and thirteen cupolas or spires is as early as the eleventh century. the numbers were figurative; two signifying the two natures of jesus christ, three, a symbol of the trinity, five, our lord and the four evangelists or the five wounds, seven, the seven sacraments, the seven gifts of the holy spirit, or the seven recumenical councils, nine, the nine celestial hierarchies, and thirteen, our lord and the twelve apostles. within the dimensions are small and the light obscure. still, the simple, nearly square disposition of the building, the enormous plain-shafted pillars which support the domes, the mass of gilding, the multitude of lamps, produce an undoubtedly grand effect. it is strikingly oriental; and as in russian churches there are no seats, but the people stand in a mingled throng, now and then prostrating themselves and beating their foreheads on the ground, each as his own devotion may dictate, the resemblance is still more marked. all the interior is covered with fresco pictures; even the pillars have gigantic figures of the saints and doctors of the church painted upon them. from the high roof hang immense brass chandeliers of a peculiar form with many branches, capable of holding hundreds of candles. in the dim distance, seemingly a wall of gold, is the iconostas, the solid screen which in every church divides the sanctuary from the rest of the sacred edifice. the iconostas is in all cases decorated with a large number of holy pictures or icons, arranged in formal rows one above the other. it is a solid erection from side to side, from floor to roof, and in the centre are the _royal doors_, through which none may pass but the consecrating priest, or the emperor: and the last once only, at the time of his coronation. at no time is any woman permitted to enter the sanctuary. the iconostas contains sometimes as many as seven rows of images: that of the _uspenski sobor_[ ] has five. their arrangement is guided by certain rules and restrictions. our lord and the blessed virgin must be represented on each side of the royal doors, and on the doors themselves the annunciation and the four evangelists. on the side doors angels must be represented. above must be the usual symbol of the trinity figured by abraham entertaining the three angels. [footnote : cathedral of the assumption, moscow.] the whole of the space behind the screen is known as the altar. the altar itself is square, or rather a double cube. above it four small columns with a canopy form a baldachino; and the cross is laid flat upon it. here also is placed the tabernacle or _zion_ which is often an architectural structure in pure gold with figures. there are five zions of this kind in the cathedrals of st. sophia at novgorod and at the troitsa monastery. in the apse behind the altar and facing it is the _thronos_, the seat of the archbishop, with seats for priests on either side. besides the icons and holy pictures on the screen (and in the cathedral of the assumption the latter contains the most highly venerated in russia) other smaller icons are set apart in various parts of the church. as is now the custom, though it is comparatively a recent one, the greater part of the picture, with the exception of the faces, hands and feet, is covered with an embossed and chased plaque in gold or silver-gilt representing the form and garments. glories or nimbuses in high relief set thick with gems surround the faces, and sparkle as they reflect the light from the multitude of candles burnt in their honour. some are covered to overloading with jewels, necklets, and bracelets; pearls, diamonds, and rubies of large size and value adorning them in profusion. the ceremonial of the greek church is excessively complex, and the symbolical meanings by which it represents the dogmas of religion are everywhere made the subjects of minute observance. during the greater part of the mass the royal doors are closed: the deacons remain for the most part without, now and again entering for a short time. from time to time a pope or popes pass throughout the church, amongst the crowds, incensing all the holy pictures in turn; the voice of the officiating priest is raised within, and is answered in deep tones by the deacons without. now from one corner comes a chant of many voices, now for another a single one in tones (it may be), the epistle or gospel of the day. now the doors fly open and a fleeting glimpse is gained of the celebrant through the thick rolling clouds of incense. then they are closed again suddenly. to a stranger unable to follow and in ignorance of the meaning, the effect is bewildering. in writing, even generally, of the arts in russia some reference to religious music is excusable. that of russia has a peculiar charm of its own, far above the barbarous discords that are to be heard in greek and other churches of the east at the present day. there is a sweetness and attractiveness in the unaccompanied chanting of the choir, in the deep bass tones of the men mingling with the plaintive trebles of younger voices, which is indescribable in its harmony. it is unlike any other; yet underneath lies the original tinge of orientalism, the wailing semitones of all barbaric music. no accompaniment, no instrumental music of any kind is permitted. bass voices of extraordinary depth and power are the most desired. it is said that the tones now used in the russian church are comparatively modern. the principal churches and monasteries in russia possess rich stores of vestments; some of comparatively high antiquity which are preserved with scrupulous care and still used on occasions of great ceremony. in more modern vestments the ancient ornament is to a great extent strictly copied. the _saccos_, formerly the principal vestment of the patriarchs and an emblem of sovereign power, is now common to all russian bishops. it is in the shape of a dalmatic, formed of two square pieces of stuff joined together at the neck and open at the sides, having wide short sleeves. many of the finest of these vestments are elaborately embroidered in gold and silver and ornamented with figures of saints; and in the stuffs themselves sacred subjects are often woven. they are also thickly sown with rows of seed-pearls which follow the lines and edgings of the vestment and border the sacred images. they are besides set with enamelled, nielloed, or jewelled plaques of gold or silver. texts in greek or sclavonic often border the whole of the edges of the garment. these are elaborately worked in gold or silver, or the letters formed completely of seed-pearls. the _saccos_ of the metropolitan peter (made in ), of alexis ( ), of photius ( ), and of dionysius (made in ), are remarkable vestments of this character, to be found in the patriarchal sacristy at moscow. the stoles, which usually correspond, are long, narrow, and nearly straight-sided to the bottom. a peculiar episcopal ornament is the _epigonation_. it is a large lozenge-shaped ornament embroidered and worked in a similar manner to the other vestments, and by bishops is worn hanging from the right side. the usual form of mitre of a pope of the russian church is well-known. the earlier kind was a sort of low cap with a border of fur, something like the cap of a royal crown, and probably not different in type from the head-dresses of bishops of the west. some are sewn thick with pearls bordering and heightening the lines of the figures of saints, and forming the outlines of the sclavonic inscriptions. such is that of joassof, first patriarch of the russian church ( ). those of later times are often of metal richly set with precious stones. sometimes they assume a more conical form, surmounted by a cross, like an imperial crown, as that which is termed the constantinople mitre, said to have been made in the time of ivan the terrible. the mitre of the celebrated nikon ( ), who aspired to papal prerogatives, is diadem-shaped and remarkable for the richness of the precious stones with which it is set. the most usual shape recalls to some extent the favourite cupola, spreading out from the base to the top. the form of the chalice used in the russian church varies considerably, as it does also in that of the latin church. in general characteristics the two have much in common. in early times the chalice was made of wood or crystal as well as of gold and silver. an ancient chalice of crystal is preserved in the cathedral of the assumption at moscow, and the wooden ones of ss. sergius and nikon are in the sacristy at troitsa. on some old icons our lord is represented as giving the holy communion to the apostles out of narrow-necked vessels which appear to be made of alabaster. the greek rite for the celebration of the holy eucharist requires three things which are not used in the western church. these are the knife or spear, the star or asterisk, and the spoon for the administration of the chalice as the sacrament is received by the laity under both kinds. it may naturally be supposed that such sacred objects would be the subjects of high artistic workmanship. the paten itself is often elaborately enamelled and otherwise decorated, whereas in the western church the rubrics require it to be plain. the ceremonial of the preparation of the bread (which is leavened and in the form of a small loaf) is exceedingly complex. portions are cut out for consecration, and for this purpose a knife called a "spear" is used. these portions placed on the paten are covered with a veil, and in order to prevent the latter from touching the elements a piece of metal is placed over them: two strips crossed, and bent so as to have four feet. the tabernacle, or perhaps more properly ciborium, is sometimes in the form of a hill or mount of gold or silver-gilt, or of a temple, and there are many remarkable examples. one at troitsa is of solid gold with the exception of judas, which is of brass. another is in the sacristy of the church of the assumption at moscow. from its inscription we learn that it was made for the grand duke ivan vassilievitch in , and it is a characteristic specimen of russian art of the period. a peculiar ornament or sacred vessel of the russo-greek church is known under the name of _panagia_, and of this there are two kinds. one is a jewel or pectoral worn suspended from the neck by bishops, and is an object on which much care and rich decoration are lavished. in a somewhat altered form it is worn by priests in the same way for carrying the holy sacrament on a journey or to the sick. pectoral crosses for the dignitaries of the church are of course not uncommon; not only priests, however, but every russian man, woman or child carries a small cross, more or less ornamental. they are various in form and richness of decoration; from the simple bronze cross, rudely stamped, of the peasant, to the enamelled and jewelled one of the metropolitan or noble. nearly always the plain three-armed cross is set in the centre of another more elaborate or conventional. almost invariably also the sacred monograms and invocations in sclavonic characters are engraved in the field. in some cases it is more a medallion than a cross, the form of the cross being indicated by cutting four segments in the manner of the ancient stone crosses to be seen in many parts of england. besides the inscriptions, emblems such as the spear and nails and crown of thorns are often to be distinguished though conventionally indicated. crosses on church tops are made of silver, wood, lead, and even gold. the open-worked designs of many of them, although intended to be placed at great height, are extremely elegant. they were occasionally ornamented with coins, and those on churches erected by the tsar are surmounted by an imperial crown. a crescent as a symbol beneath the cross is very frequent. various explanations of this symbol have been given. according to some it is in remembrance of the victory of the cross over the crescent on the deliverance from the mongol yoke. others think it to have originated simply in the freak of some goldsmith, afterwards copied by others until it came to be accepted as a necessity. it is certain that the use of the crescent is anterior to the mongol invasion, and was an old symbol in byzantium, as appears from coins. the pastoral staff of russian bishops is tau-shaped; and there are many good old examples, a few in ivory, but for the most part in silver-gilt. processional crosses are also used. the censer is a piece of church furniture in constant use in the russo-greek church, and we find several examples very characteristic of russian art. as in the west, the application of architectural forms is very frequent, and it is not surprising that the peculiarities of russian ecclesiastical ornament should be prominent and especially the dome which naturally suggests itself. amongst the objects kept in the sacristy of the patriarchs in the cathedral of the assumption, in moscow, is one which is held in special veneration. this is the vase in which is preserved the deposit of holy chrism used in the annual preparation of holy oils for distribution to the various churches of the empire. the preparation of this oil is an occasion of great ceremony in holy week. from the fourth week in lent the preliminary mixings of oil, wine, herbs, and a variety of different ingredients begin. in the holy week these ingredient are prepared in a public ceremony: two large boilers, several bowls and sixteen vases together with other vessels being used. all of these are of great size of massive silver, and, presented by catherine ii. in , are specimens of silver work of that time. _the creeds of russia_ _ernest w. lowry_ a report was brought to basil, the metropolitan of moscow, in the year , by merchants of novgorod, who asserted that they had beheld a glimpse of paradise from the shores of the white sea. whether their vision were merely the dazzling reflection of some sunlit iceberg, or only the glow of poetic imagination, it so fired the ardour of the mediæval prelate that he longed to set sail for this golden gleam. be the old legend true or false, it is certain that to this day the northern mujik shows an even more marked religious enthusiasm than his brother of the central governments. fanaticism, mysticism, and fatalism go ever hand in hand in northern russia. the empire of the tsars being so vast in area and so embracive of races affords space for all forms of belief, or want of belief, within her boundaries. all creeds are represented, from the pagan samoyede of the _tundras_ to the mohammedan tartar of the steppes. our concern is with but one of these--the old believers. but to understand their doctrine, we must glance at the clergy of the state church from which they dissent. [illustration: a religious procession, loka.] the clergy of the orthodox russian church are divided into black or monks of st. basil, and the white or parish priests. the latter must be married before they are ordained, and may not marry again (which has led to the saying, "a priest takes good care of his wife, for he cannot get another"), while the monasteries, of course, require celibacy. from the latter the bishops are elected, so that they--in contradistinction to the priests--must be single. this system is much condemned by the lower clergy, who ask pertinently, "how can the bishop know the hardships of our lives? for he is single and well paid, we poor and married." the rule, observed elsewhere, holds good in russia, the poorer the priest, the larger the family. few village priests receive any regular stipend, but are allowed a plot of land in the commune wherein they minister. this allowance is generally from thirty to forty dessiatines (eighty to one hundred and eight acres), and can only be converted into money, or food products, by the labour of the parson and his family upon it--very literally must they put their hand to the plough. priests are paid for special services, such as christenings or weddings, at no fixed tariff, but at a sliding rate, according to the means of the payer, the price being arrived at by means of prolonged bargaining between the shepherd and his flock. would-be couples often wait for months until a sum can be fixed upon with his reverence for tying the knot; and sometimes, by means of daily haggling, the amount first asked can be reduced by one-half, for the cost of the ceremony varies--according to the social status of the happy pair--from ten to one hundred roubles. funerals, too, are at times postponed for most unhealthy periods during this process. generally, however, the white clergy[ ] are so miserably poor that they cannot be blamed for making the best market they can for their priestly offices. whether the system or the salary be at fault it is hard to say, but from whatever cause the fact remains that the parish clergy of the villages are not always all they might be; there are many among them who lead upright lives and gain the respect of their parishioners, but it would be idle to deny that there are many whose thoughts turn more to _vodka_ than piety, the _kabak_ than the church. such shepherds have little in common with the best elements of their flocks, and much with the worst, in whose company they are generally seen. [footnote : the white clergy wear any colour but that from which they take their name--a deer-skin cap and long felt boots.] the poor "pope" spends much of his time going from _izba_ to _izba_, giving his blessing and receiving in return drink and a few copecks; from this come, all too easily, the proverbs of his parishioners, "am i a priest, that i should sup twice?" etc. count tolstoi makes his hero remark in the trial scene of the _resurrection_, when his fellow jurymen are more friendly than he would wish, "the son of a priest will speak to me next." but most of them have a side to their natures which, though not always to be seen, is, nevertheless, latent--the hour of need often lifts them to the lofty plane of their sublime functions; the labouring--often hungry--peasant of the weekdays becomes on sunday exalted above the petty surroundings of mujik life, and becomes indeed the "little father" of his people. from the established church of the state, the church of the few in the north, let us turn to the old faith, the church of the many. the old believers, raskolniks, or dissenters, are indeed a numerous, although officially an uncounted, body in the north; half the trade of moscow, most of that which is russian at all, in the port of archangel, all the pomor shipping lies in their hands. the word raskolnik means, literally, one who splits asunder, and that is just what the old believer is--one who has split off from the orthodox church. two hundred and fifty years ago nikon, a friar of solovetsk, an island monastery in the white sea, having quarrelled alike with equal and superior, was set adrift in an open boat; he reached the mainland at ki, a small cape in onega bay, wandered southward to olonets, where he got together a band of followers, proceeded to moscow, obtained the notice of the throne, got preferment, was soon made patriarch. he ruled with an iron hand, made many enemies, and when at last he obtained from mount santo, in roumelia, authentic greek church-service books, and, having had them translated into sclavonic, forced their use upon the church, with the aid of the tsar alexis, in the place of those previously in use, the revolt began in earnest. in addition to the altered service book, nikon introduced a cross with but two beams, a new stamp for the holy wafer, a different way of holding the fingers in pronouncing the blessing, and a new way of spelling the name jesus, to which the church was unaccustomed. in each of these changes nikon and his party really wished to go back to older and purer forms of greek ritual, but many resisted the alterations, believing them to be innovations. such was the beginning of raskol; the end is not yet. those who could not accept these reforms, or returns to older forms, took up the name of "staro-obriadtsi," or old believers, holding that theirs was indeed the true old faith of their fathers. for them began, in very truth a hard time; a time which has left its mark most clearly upon their descendants to-day. excommunicated and persecuted under alexis and peter i., they were driven in thousands from their village homes to seek refuge where they could, in forest, mountain or island; a party reaching in the year , even to kolgueff island, where, as might be expected, they perished during the following year from scurvy. to these brave bands of old believers, setting forth under their banner of the "eight-ended cross," to find new homes beyond the reach of persecution, is, in large part, due the colonization of the huge province of archangel and the northern portion of siberia. that it was not always easy for the raskolnik to get beyond the range of official persecutions is shown by many an old "_ukas_," and by many an old entry in the books of far-distant communes. farther north and farther east, from forest to _tundra_ and steppe were they driven, spreading as they went their russian nationality over regions asiatic; as exiles they settled among polish romanists, baltic protestants, and caucasian mussulmans, and with the heathen lapp and samoyede, and ostiac, on the murman coast of russian lapland, in the bleak northern _tundra_, on the petchora, and away beyond the ural spur, they found at last the rest they sought. their most dangerous enemy was not, however, the persecution of the dominant church; they had placed themselves geographically beyond the reach of that: far more dangerous was further raskol--splitting--among themselves, and it was not long before this overtook them. cut off by their own faith, as well by excommunication, from the orthodox church, the supply of consecrated priests soon gave out; they had lost their apostolic succession and could not renew it, for the one bishop--paul of kalomna--who had joined them, had died in prison, without appointing a successor. without an episcopate they were soon without a priesthood; and the vital question, "how shall we get priests and through them sacraments?" was answered in two ways, and according to the answer, so were the old believers divided into two main sects. one sect declared that, as there were no longer faithful priests, they were cut off from all the sacraments except baptism, which could be administered by laymen. these "bespopoftsi," or priestless people, were unable to marry; and to this--in a land where the economic unit, is not man, but man and wife, where the ties of family life are so strong--was due their further splitting. in , however, they persuaded an outcast bishop to join their ranks, and founded a see at bielokrinitzkaga, in austrian bukovina, beyond the russian empire; from thence the succession was handed down, and now after long decades of waiting, they have bishops and priests of their own. the practice of hiring a priest from the orthodox church, to conduct a service for the old believers, is still very common in the far north, where all villages have not the means to keep a "pope" of their own; and many an orthodox clergyman thus adds considerably to his precarious income by officiating for those whom his great-grandfathers excommunicated as heretics; indeed, the government now encourages this practice, and has made some attempt to heal up the schism by allowing its priests to adopt, to a slight extent, the old customs in villages where all the inhabitants are raskolniks. this can the more readily be understood when it is remembered that the old believers hold in all essential points the same creed as the orthodox; they are--and their name implies--believers in the old faith of the russian branch of the greek church, as expressed since the day of st. vladimir until the seventeenth century, but not in the so-called innovations of nikon. the points of difference are so small that it seems impossible a church should by them have been cleft in twain. the orthodox sign the cross with three fingers extended, the dissenters with two, holding that the two raised fingers indicate the dual nature of christ, while the three bent ones represent the trinity. it does not seem to have occurred to either party that the reverse holds true as well. the orthodox cross has but two beams, while that of the raskolnik has four, and is made of four woods--cypress, cedar, palm, and olive; the latter, too, repeats his allelujah thrice, the orthodox but twice. such are the points to which in all probability, the peopling of the outlying portions of the empire of the tsars is due. the raskolniks have set a far higher value upon education than the orthodox; the instruction given in their settlements often sheds a strong light upon the darkness of orthodox ignorance around, and with the spread of education so does the sect extend and multiply. their house can generally be distinguished by cleanliness, the presence of many eicons, brass and silver crosses, and ancient books; its mistress by her greater thoughtfulness and capability. old believers are always glad to seize the opportunity, given so well by the long northern winter, with its almost endless night, of reading, and on their shelves are seen translations of our best authors, from whom, perhaps, it is that they have taken their advanced political views, and the outcome of whose perusal is that the hunter and fisherman will often propound to one questions which show a mind well trained in logical thought. the raskolnik is generally fairly well to do, for, like the quaker and the puritan, he finds a turn for business not incompatible with religious exercise, and to this is in part due the superiority and comfort of their homes. most of them in the far north are fishers and hunters, sealers and sailors, and in these and kindred trades they make use of better and more modern appliances than their neighbours, and so generally realize more for their commodities. far from civilization, in the impenetrable forests of the great lone land of archangel, the fugitive raskolniks were able to found retreats for themselves, untroubled and unobserved; these refuges still exist, and are called "obitel" or cells. in the district of mezen there are many such establishments, both for men and women; among the former the anuphief hermitage, or cells of koida, stand in a splendid position, on the banks of both lake and river koida, some versts in summer by river, and in winter, over ice, from the town of that name. on nonconformist, as on orthodox, is laid the burden of severe fasting; as master chancellour tells us, in , "this people hath four lents,"--indeed, the eating working year is reduced to some days. in the north, where vegetables and berries are few and fruit non-existent, the mujik is left to fast on "_treska_," rotten codfish--and the condition of the man who begins lent underfed is indeed pitiable when he ends it. the endurance of the old believer is marvellous; no offer of food will tempt him from what he considers his duty. let us turn our attention from the raskolniks, or old believers of the far north, who, as we have seen, so literally "forsook all" for their ancient faith, to some few of the many new, or lately developed creeds whose followers are seeking after truth with equal earnestness and vigour, but along very different lines. sect begets sect in the world of theology, much as cell begets cell in the economy of life. change seems the active principle of all dissent; new cults are forever springing up in the mystic childlike minds of the tsar's great peasant family, nor could one expect uniformity of confession, when the size and neighbours of that family are considered, for mohammedan, protestant, catholic, buddhist, and shamanist surround it, are made subject to it, and eventually become a part thereof. a mosque stands opposite the orthodox church in the great square which forms the centre of nijni-novgorod, a roman catholic and a german lutheran church almost face the magnificent kazan cathedral, in the nevski-prospekt of st. petersburg. the waiters of nearly all restaurants, from archangel to baku, are mohammedan tartars, the jew is in every market-place, the native heathen races, lapp, samoyede, ostiac, yakout, and a score of others, are closely connected by the bonds of commerce: can it be wondered at if the ideas of the peasant become tinted by his surroundings? it cannot be gainsaid that the lifelessness and emptiness of the state church, with its hireling and often ignorant priesthood, fails to satisfy the great mind of russia--the peasant mind--but now awakening from its long infant slumber, as did the mind of western europe three centuries ago. next perhaps to the extreme literalness with which the mujik interprets holy writ, this dissatisfaction with the official church is the greatest cause of the grip which the chameleon-like "dissent" has taken hold of the popular mind. with very few exceptions--notably the skoptsy--the sects which are stated to exist within the pale of christianity and the borders of the empire of the tsar, begin and end with the mujik; the official world is of necessity orthodox, the wealthy world careless, and this fact, of the peasant origin and development of the denominations, must be carefully borne in mind when attempting to form any idea of the widely different meanings and shades of meaning which have been put upon the one bible story. of the strictly rational, and more or less protestant, portion of russian dissent, the dukhobortsy, or "wrestlers with the holy spirit," and their descendants in the faith, the molokans, or "milk drinkers," are perhaps the best known to us, from the fact of their having emigrated to english-speaking lands, and from the valiant championing of their cause by count l. d. tolstoi. they form the antithesis of the old believers, as is well set forth in the conversation between a. leroy-beauleau (in the _empire of the tsars_) and a fisherman of the persuasion, who said, "the raskolniks would go to the block for the sign of the cross with two fingers. as for us, we don't cross ourselves at all, either with two fingers or with three, but we strive to gain a better knowledge of god"; and, indeed, his words may stand for a declaration of the simple faith of his people, for their worship is marked by a deep contempt for tradition, dogma, and ceremony. they have even done away with the church, and, as a rule, use the house of their elders as a meeting-place. communion has been simplified away, marriage reduced to a simple declaration, and invocation of god's blessing, the priesthood question, the rock which first split the old faith, solved by making every man a priest in his own family: surely their motto, "the letter killeth, but the spirit giveth life," has been well acted up to. indeed, the whole theology of the dukhobortsy may be summed up as a bold attempt to depart from the empty greek formalism and arrive at a spiritual and unconventional worship, an enlargement of the outline given in the shortest and grandest of sermons. the molokani are said to have obtained this name from taking milk and butter during fast times when they are forbidden to the orthodox, but more probably from the fact of their having colonies on either bank of the river molochnaia, so called from the whiteness of its waters, due to potassium salts. they are very closely akin to the dukhobortsy, of which sect they are an offshoot. they hope for a millennium, and to this end tend all their communistic experiments; for each of their village settlements is striving to manufacture its own earthly paradise and run it on its own lines. [illustration: shrine in the convent solovetskii, kola.] the stunda is perhaps the largest and most rapidly developing faction of nonconformity, for it has ramified from odessa--its starting point--throughout tsarland, save in the extreme north and north-east. this faith can be traced directly to the influence of certain lutherans who emigrated from würtemberg and settled in the fruitful "_tchenoziom_," or black earth lands, some half-century ago. the stundist organization is much like that of the "low church" division of protestantism, save that it has no ordained clergy, a body whom it regards as a somewhat expensive luxury, and replaces by elected elders, who lead the very simple services, at which any man or woman who feels called upon to do so may say what he or she will. these gatherings are more prayer-meetings than services, for there is no "form of prayer" to be used, but simply informal prayer, praise and song in the best room of a farmhouse, though, now that the government are not so strict in their search after heretics, regular wooden "meeting-houses" have appeared in some of the stundist villages. if few of the rational sects have committed their history and their views, or indeed their creeds, to writing, lest they should fall into the hands of spies and be used in evidence against them, much more is this the case with those whose search after truth has led them to forsake the lines of rationalism and enter the land of mysticism and spiritualism. but two of these mystic schisms need we touch upon in this article, in order to show to what lengths the mujik will go in his efforts to escape from the trammels of orthodoxy, and with what logic he will follow up any given line of thought. most of the irrational sects are older than those already mentioned, and do not seem to have their roots in other lands, but to be the expression of the mujik's own mind in its waking moments: thus the "khlystsy"--the name is a nickname taken from the word "khlyst" (a whip)--date back to the early days of the seventeenth century. they hold that christ has made and still makes repeated appearances on earth and in russia, and indeed they are seldom without an incarnate god present with them in flesh and blood. the khlystsy meet by night, with the utmost secrecy, and are reported to dance, after the manner of the dervishes, with ever-increasing rapidity, until their feelings are worked up to such a pitch that they are able to receive messages of inspiration, which they shout out to their fellows. if one of their number has a fit--not an uncommon event in some communes where close intermarriage among relations has been the practice for generations--he is safe to be regarded as an inspired messenger and duly honoured as such. charges of every kind of vice have been laid at the door of the khlystsy; their secret services have been called cloaks for immorality, and doubtless on occasion have been used as such; but, as the character of their congregation stands for high honesty and industry, it is surely more charitable to assume that their worst feature is their extreme secrecy, and that this, when added to the hatred of orthodox marriage which the sect shows, lies at the base of most of the accusations. closely connected with these dancing khlystsy are the jumping shakuny, whose jumps are said to increase in height as do the circular movements of the former, until the proper state of mind for inspired prophecy is reached. among the stockbrokers and money-changers of russian cities, as well as among peasants, may be seen the pale and almost hairless face, wavering voice, and mild manner of the "skopets" who has put in practice upon himself the strange doctrine of self-mutilation. these "white doves" as they call themselves, base their self-sacrifice upon the literal rendering of such texts as, "if thy right eye offend thee, pluck it out," "except a man become as a little child, he shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven," and argue that in order to be pleasing to god, man--and in some instances woman--must become like the angels, whom they assert to be sexless, on the ground that "they neither marry nor are given in marriage." we notice the hold which religion, in its vast variety of forms, has over the popular mind of russia. no one who has visited, however casually, a russian city can doubt this; the icon hangs in the station office, and men bow to it, the cabman crosses himself ere he drives over a bridge; shrines are interposed between shops, many of which latter are devoted to the sale of crucifixes, swinging lamps and sacred pictures; green cupolas and golden crosses gleam against the sky, look which way you will. so it is in the village, the white wooden church stands out in front of the black wooden houses, crosses are placed in the cattle pastures to ward off evil spirits, the folk cross themselves if they yawn, lest "chort," the devil jump in at their mouth, and the drunkard, at the tavern door, kneels and uncovers as the procession passes on its way, may be to bless the waters but now released from the winter grip of ice, or may be to leave some neighbour in the communal graveyard. we notice, too, the stern logic with which the peasant theologian follows up the ideas of his sect, how he works out his own salvation along lines which he himself lays down, and in so doing invents some new creed almost daily; for a russian newspaper can hardly ever be taken up without seeing the discovery of such in one corner or other of the vast empire. that he has the full courage of his opinions, that he will suffer for conscience' sake--russian officials only know how bitterly--that he will lay down his life, or--almost equal sacrifice for him--forsake his land and "_izba_," and face the future among the wild native races which bound european tsarland on its north and east--not so very long ago--he suffered the knout and the stake rather than recant one iota of what he thinks to be the only true rendering of the biblical text, all this must in common fairness be allowed to the poor russian. _st. petersburg_ _j. beavington atkinson_ cronstadt, the strong fortress which stopped the advance of the english squadron in the last russian war, is as the water-gate of st. petersburg. a bright july sun made no unpleasing picture of the huge hulks of the men-of-war, and of the many-masted merchant ships which lay within the harbour, or behind the fortifications. passing cronstadt the capital soon comes in sight; the water is so smooth and shallow, and the banks are so low, that i was actually reminded of the lagoons of venice. far away in the distance glittered in the sunlight cupola beyond cupola, covered with burnished gold or sparkling with bright stars on a blue ground. the river, stretching wide as an estuary, was thronged with merchandise as the tagus or the thames: yachts were flying before the wind and steam-tugs laboured slowly against the stream, dragging behind the heavily-laden lighter. warehouses and wharfs and timber-yards now begin to line either bank; yet the materials for a sketch-book are scanty and uninviting: an artist who, like mr. whistler, has etched at battersea and blackwell, would find by comparison on the neva the forms without character, the surface without texture, the masses without light, shade, or colour. as the boat advances the imperial city grows in scale and pomp. the river view becomes imposing, the banks are lined on either side by granite quays, which for solidity, strength, and area, have no parallel in europe. beneath the bridges the unruly river rushes, bearing along rafts and merchandise, and in the broad-laid streets people hurry to and fro, as if the day were too short for the press of business: only in great commercial capitals, the centres of large populations, is life thus rapid and overburdened. throughout russia generally time hangs heavily, but here at the seat of empire, the focus of commerce, life under high pressure moves at full speed. i know of no european capital, excepting perhaps london and vienna, which leaves on the mind so strong an impression of power, wealth, and ostentation, as the city of st. petersburg. possibly the first idea which may strike the stranger on driving from the steamer to the hotel, is the large scale on which the city has been planned; the area of squares and streets seems proportioned to the vast dimensions of the russian empire: indeed the silent solitudes of the city may be said to symbolize the desert tracks of central russia and siberia. only on the continent of america is so much land at command, so large a sweep of territory brought within the circuit of city life. in the old world, munich offers the closest analogy to st. petersburg, and that not only by wide and half-occupied areas, but by a certain pretentious and pseudo-classic architecture, common to the two cities alike: the design of the hermitage in fact came from munich. st. petersburg, like munich too, has been forced into rapid growth; indeed while looking at the works raised by successive tsars, i was reminded of the boast of augustus that he found rome of brick and left her of marble. st. petersburg, though sometimes decried as a city of shams, is certainly not surpassed in the way of show by any capital in europe. as to natural situation she may be said to be at once fortunate and infelicitous: the flatness of the land is not redeemed by fertility, the monotony of the panorama is not broken by mountains; the city rides as a raft upon the waters, so heavily freighted as to run the risk of sinking. and yet i know of no capital more imposing when taken from the strong points of view. almost beyond parallel is the array of palaces and public buildings which meets the traveller's eye in a walk or sail from the english quay up to the gardens of the summer palace. the structures it is true tend a little too much of what may be termed buckram and fustian styles; indeed there is scarcely a form or a detail which an architect would care to jot down in his note-book. and yet the general effect is grand: a big river rushing with large volume of water through the arches of bridges, along granite quays and before marble palaces, is a noble and living presence in the midst of city life. the waters of "the great neva" and of "the little neva" appear as an omnipresence; the rivers are in the streets, and great buildings, such as the admiralty, the fortress, and the cathedral of st. peter and st. paul, ride as at anchor on a swelling flood. the views from the three chief bridges--nicholas bridge, palace bridge, and troitska bridge--are eminently palatial and imperial. the academy of arts, the academy of sciences, st. isaac's cathedral, the admiralty, the winter palace, the hermitage, and the fortress and cathedral of st. peter and st. paul, give to the stranger an overpowering impression of the wealth and the strength of the empire. the englishman, while standing on these bridges, will naturally recall analogous positions on the river thames; such comparison is not wholly to the disadvantage of the northern capital, yet on the banks of the neva rise no structures which in architectural design equal st. paul's cathedral, somerset house, westminster abbey, and the houses of parliament. indeed, with the exception of the spire of the admiralty, i did not find in st. petersburg a single new idea. [illustration: st. petersburg.] of the famous nevski-prospekt, the chief street in st. petersburg, it may be said as of our london regent street, that it can stand neither weather nor criticism. as to style of architecture, strictly speaking the nevski-prospekt has none: the buildings, consisting of shops, interspersed with a few churches and public edifices, so much partake of the modern and mongrel italian manner, that the traveller might easily fancy himself in paris, brussels, or turin. few cities are so pretentious in outside appearances as st. petersburg, and yet the show she makes is that of the whited sepulchre: false construction and rottenness of material, façades of empty parade, and plaster which feigns to be stone, constitute an accumulative dishonesty which has few parallels in the history of architecture. classic pillars and porticos, which have been thrust in everywhere on slightest pretext, are often built up of brick covered with cement and coloured yellow. columns, here the common and constant expedient, are mostly mismanaged; they are as it were gratuitous intrusions, they seem to be stuck on, they fail to compose with the rest of the building. neither do the architects of st. petersburg understand mouldings or the value of shadow, there is scarcely a moulding in the city which casts a deep, broad or delicate shadow: hence the façades look flat and thin as if built of cards. in the same way the details are poor and treated without knowledge; it thus happens that conceptions bold and grand are carried out incompletely. the great mistake is that the architects have made no attempt to gather together the scattered elements of a national style. with the noteworthy exception of the use of fine, fanciful and fantastic domes, often gilt or brightly coloured, the architecture of russian capitals is either classic or renaissance of the most commonplace description. i shall not think it worth while to dwell on the very many churches which adorn the northern capital, because, with few exceptions, there is nothing in point of art which merits to be recorded. yet i can scarcely refrain from again referring to the fine fantasy played by many-coloured domes against the blue sky. the forms are beautiful, the colours decorative. the city in its sky outline presents a succession of strange pictures, at one point the eye might seem to range across a garden of gourds, at other positions peer above house-tops groups which might be mistaken for turbaned turks; and when the sun shines vividly, and throws glittering light on the "patens of bright gold," over these many-domed churches, a stranger might almost fancy that above the city floated fire balloons or bright-coloured lanterns. the large cupola of st. isaac, covered with copper overlaid with gold, has been said to burn on a bright day like the sun when rising on a mountain top. i can never forget the sight when i returned to st. petersburg from the most brilliant civic and military spectacle i ever witnessed, the fête of the empress at tsarskoé sélo. it was still dark, but before i reached my hotel for the short repose of a night which already brightened into morning, every cupola on the way was awakening into daylight; the sun, hesitating for a moment on the horizon, announced his coming as by electric light on the golden stars which shone on domes more blue than the grey sky of morning. in moscow church cupolas playa part in the city panorama still more conspicuous than in st. petersburg. the cathedral of st. isaac is the most costly and pretentious of russian churches. the noble edifice has the advantage of a commanding situation; not, it is true, as to elevation--for that is impossible in a city set throughout on a dead level--but the surface area in its wide sweeping circuit at all events contrasts strikingly with that cribbed and cabined church-yard of st. paul's in london, which the englishman may have just left behind him. yet st. isaac's can scarcely venture on comparison with st. paul's, though the style of the two buildings is similar. the great cathedral of st. petersburg has, however, the advantage of that concentration which belongs to the greek as distinguished from the latin cross, a distinction which has always been to the disadvantage of st. peter's in rome. a cross of four equal arms, with columned porticos mounted nobly on steps at the four extremities, the whole composition crowned by central and surrounding cupolas, is assuredly an imposing conception, of which the french artist m. montferrand has known how to make the most. i may here, by way of parenthesis, remark that the two works which do most honour to st. petersburg, the cathedral of st. isaac and the adjacent equestrian statue of peter the great, are severally due not to russian but to french artists. this is one example among many of the foreign origin of the arts in russia. but at all events let it be admitted that the materials used, as well as the ideas often brought to bear, are local or national. for example, the grandest of all architectural conceptions, the idea of a dome, is here glorified in true russian or oriental manner, not so much by magnitude of proportion as by decorative splendour, heightened to the utmost by a surface of burnished gold. then the four porticos which terminate each end of the greek cross with stately columns and entablatures of granite from finland, albeit in design mere commonplace complications, are wholly national in the material used. i do not now stop to mention the large and bold reliefs in bronze, which though french in design were, i believe, cast in st. petersburg: indeed here, as in munich, the government makes that liberal provision which only governments can make, for noble but unremunerative art. the great dome is said to be sustained by iron; indeed the science of construction brought to bear is great, yet again it must be acknowledged that whether the material be iron, bronze, or stone, the art, the skill, and even the commercial capital, are not russian but foreign, and often english. russian workmen, however, are employed as mechanics or machines, partly because in copyism and mechanism russian artisans cannot throughout europe be surpassed. when i got to st. petersburg i could scarcely believe the statement to be true that the "english magazine" and not any russian factory had executed the eight stupendous malachite pillars within the church, weighing about , pounds and costing £ , sterling. yet while the organization might be english, the operatives were russians. the unsurpassed malachite pillars combine in the grand altar-screen with columns of lapis-lazuli: the latter are said to have cost per pair £ , sterling. i need scarcely observe that this parade of precious metals partakes more of barbaric magnificence than of artistic taste; indeed these columns of malachite and lapis-lazuli, which to the eye present themselves as solid and honest, have been built up as incrustations on hollow cast-iron tubes. thus hollow are the most precious arts of russia. justice, however, demands that i should speak hereafter in fair appreciation of the interiors of russian churches, whereof the cathedral of st. isaac is among the chief. nevertheless, material rather than mind, money rather than art, is the governing power; malachite, lapis-lazuli, gold, and other precious substances are heaped together profusely, yet no architect in europe of the slightest intellectual pretensions, would care to look a second time at the constructive or decorative conceptions which the churches of st. petersburg display. st. isaac's in fact is miraculous only in its monoliths. i could scarcely believe my eyes when first i stood beneath the stately porticos and looked from top to bottom of the very many columns, seven feet in diameter and sixty feet high, all polished granite monoliths from finland. already i had made the assertion that there was nothing new in st. petersburg when these granite monoliths at once compelled a recantation. the monoliths in st. petersburg are so exceptional in number and often so gigantic in dimension as to call for special mention. the monolith obelisks of ancient egypt are scarcely more remarkable. in addition to the magnificent columns, each sixty feet high, which sustain the four porticos of the cathedral of st. isaac, are fifty-six monoliths, also of granite from finland, thirty-five feet high in the kazan cathedral; likewise the noble entrance-hall of the hermitage is sustained by sixteen monoliths, and the magnificent room which receives the treasures from the cimmerian bosphorus has the support of twenty monoliths. but the greatest single block of modern times stands in front of the winter palace, as a monument to alexander i. the height is eighty-four feet, and the weight nearly four hundred tons. the story goes that the contractor in finland, finding that he had exceeded the required length, actually cut off ten or fifteen feet. the vast granite quarries of finland supply the tsars with these stupendous columns, just as the granite quarries of syene on the nile furnished the pharaohs with obelisks. these enormous masses are too heavy to be conveyed on wheels, the only practicable mode of transit is on rollers. in this way each of the sixty-feet columns for st. isaac's was transported across country all the way from finland. each column represents so incredible an amount of labour as to make it evident that monoliths are luxuries in which only emperors can indulge. and even when these heavy weights have reached their destination the difficulty next occurs how to secure a solid foundation. st. petersburg was once a swamp, and so rotten is the ground that it would be quite possible for a monolith to sink out of sight and never more be heard of. to provide against such contingencies a forest of piles was driven into the earth at the cost of £ , as the foundation of st. isaac, and yet the cathedral sinks. like causes render the roads of st. petersburg the worst in europe; winter frosts, which penetrate several feet below the surface, seize on the imprisoned waters and tear up the streets. the surface thus broken is so destructive to wheels that i have known an englishman, who, though he kept four carriages, had not one in a condition to use. the jolting on the roads is so great as to make it wise for a traveller to hold on fast, and when a lady and gentleman ride side by side, it is usual for the gentleman to protect the lady by throwing his arm round his companion's waist. this delicate attention is so much of a utilitarian necessity as in no way to imply further obligations. st. petersburg is considerably indebted to the art of sculpture: public monuments adorn her squares and gardens. indeed the art of sculpture has, like the sister arts of architecture and painting, been forced into preternatural proportions. in the large area within sight of the church of st. isaac and of the admiralty, stands conspicuously one of the few successful equestrian statues in modern or ancient times, the colossal bronze to peter the great. the huge block of granite, which is said to weigh upwards of , tons, was conveyed from a marsh, four miles distance from st. petersburg, by means of ropes, pulleys, and windlasses, worked by men and horses. a drummer stationed on the rock itself gave the signal for onward movement. it would seem that the methods used in russia to this day for transporting granite monoliths, are curiously similar to the appliances of the ancient egyptians for moving like masses. in point of art this equestrian statue, though grand in conception, is, after the taste of barbarous nations, colossal in size. peter the great is eleven feet in stature, the horse is seventeen feet high. the nobility lies in the action, the horse rears on his hind legs after the favourite manner of velasquez in well-known equestrian portraits of ferdinand iv. the attitude assumed by the great emperor is triumphant, the fiery steed has dashed up the rock and pauses as in mid-air on the brink of the precipice. the idea is that peter the great surveys from the height the capital of his creation, as it may be supposed to rise from the waters. his hand is stretched forth for the protection of the city. this work, like many other proud achievements in the empire, unfortunately is not russian. the design is due to the frenchman falconet; marie callot is said to have modelled the head, and the casting was done by martelli, an italian. falconet, in order to be true to the life, carefully studied again and again a fine arab horse, mounted by a russian general who was famous as a rider; the general day by day made a rush up a mound, artificially constructed for the purpose, and when just short of the precipice the horse was reined in and thrown on its hind legs. the artist watched the action and made his studies; the work accordingly has nature, movement, vigour. i may here mention that i have nowhere found such large masses of stone conveyed from place to place as here in st. petersburg. it is true i have seen marble fresh from the mountains of carrara tugged along by teams of bullocks, but i have nowhere witnessed so much power brought to bear as in the transit of the granite used in the immense memorial to the empress catherine. the art collections in st. petersburg may give the traveller pleasant occupation for several weeks; indeed if the tourist be an art student he will find work for months. the winter palace, adjoining the hermitage, on the neva, is like the palace at versailles, conspicuous for rooms or galleries commemorative of military exploits. here are well-painted battle-pieces by willewalde and kotzbue, also naval engagements by aivasovsky, highly coloured as a matter of course. likewise are hung the best battle-pieces i have ever seen, by peter hess, the renowned bavarian painter, who appears to less credit in munich than in the winter palace, st. petersburg. also may be noted the portrait of alexander i. by dawe, the englishman, who worked much in russia. here likewise is the imperial gallery of portraits of all the sovereigns of the reigning russian house. i pass over these multitudinous works thus briefly, because, though the collection is of importance in the history of the empire, it has little value in art. "the crown jewels" i shall not attempt to describe; no description of jewels can be worth much. i may venture to say, however, that after seeing all the royal jewellery in europe, i found these russian crowns, sceptres, etc., richer in diamonds than any other. also pearls, rubies, siberian aqua-marines, etc., add colour and splendour to the imperial treasure. the comparison on the spot, which i not unnaturally instituted, was with the imperial treasury at vienna. next, a word may be given to the room in which the proud, stern, and unrelenting nicholas died, where all is kept intact as he left it. i have seldom been more impressed than with this small, simple, and almost penurious apartment, so striking in contrast with the splendour of the rest of the palace. silence, solitude, and solemnity all the more attach to the spot from the statement to which credence is given that the great emperor, on learning of the reverses in the crimea, here committed suicide. in other words, it is said that he directed his physician to prepare a medicine which after having taken he died. the sword, helmet, and grey military cloak are where he laid them. here lies a historic tragedy which remains to be painted; one of the most dramatic pictorial scenes in europe, the death of wallenstein in schiller's drama, painted by professor piloty and now in the new pinakothek, munich, might in the death of the great nicholas find a parallel. the emperor lies buried with all the sovereigns of russia since the foundation of st. petersburg, in the cathedral fortress of st. peter and st. paul. nothing in europe is grander in the simplicity and silence which befit a sepulchre--not even the imperial tombs in vienna--than this stately mausoleum of the tsars. the emperor nicholas lies opposite to peter the great. in the hermitage, or rather in the winter palace, is a gallery illustrative of the life and labours of peter the great. the collection, besides turning-lathes and other instruments with which the monarch worked, contains curiosities, knickknacks, as well as some works of real art value: the connecting point of the whole collection is in peter himself. an analogous collection was some years ago opened in the louvre as the museum of napoleon i. dynasties all the world over thus seek to perpetuate their memories. [illustration: the hermitage, st. petersburg.] the academy of fine arts is a noble institution, imposing in its architecture, and richly endowed. the corps des mines must also be visited, the collection of minerals proves the amazing riches of european and asiatic russia. i wish i had knowledge and space to describe this unexampled collection, which though not falling within my art province has direct art relations. nothing beauteous or wondrous in nature lies beyond the sphere of art; the forms of crystals, the colours of precious stones are specially objects of delight to the artist's eye. the imperial public library is one of the richest libraries in europe; its literary treasures can hardly be overrated; i regret that i cannot enter into its contents. private collections, though scarcely numerous, are choice; the celebrated leuchtenberg gallery, formerly in munich, is the richest. the royal residences of peterhof and tsarshoé sélo i also found to contain much in the way of art, and yet scarcely of sufficient importance to need special description. the imperial hermitage alone repays a journey to st. petersburg; for a whole fortnight i visited almost every day the picture and sculpture galleries of this vast and rich museum, and in the end i left with the feeling that i had done but inadequate justice to these valuable and exhaust-less collections. i am tolerably well acquainted with the great museums in the south and west of europe, and i was interested to find that the hermitage does not suffer by comparison with the vatican, the museum of naples, the galleries of florence, the louvre in paris, or the great picture gallery in madrid. in some departments, indeed, st. petersburg has the advantage over other capitals; the collection of gold ornaments from kertch is not surpassed by the gold work in the etruscan room of the vatican; the coins are not inferior to the numismatic collections in paris, or in the british museum; the dutch pictures are not to be equalled save in holland or in dresden; the spanish school has no competitor save in madrid and seville; the portraits by vandyck, and the sketches by rubens, are only surpassed in england and bavaria. it is thus obvious that the collective strength of the assembled collections, is very great. the picture galleries contain more than , works; the number of drawings is upwards of , the coins and medals amount to , , the painted vases are above , , the ancient marbles number , and the collection of gems is one of the largest in existence. the hermitage has been enriched partly to the prejudice of other cities or palaces. from the tauris palace came classic sculpture. tsarshoé sélo also furnished contributions. the policy has been to make one astounding museum, which shall represent not a capital but an empire, and stand before the world as the exponent of the wealth, the resource, and the refined taste of the nation and its rulers. _finland_ _harry de windt_ "what sort of a place is finland?" asked a friend whom i met, on my return from that country, in london. "very much the same as lapland, i suppose? snow, sleighs, and bears, and all that kind of thing?" my friend was not singular in his idea, for they are probably those of most people in england. at present finland is a _terra incognita_, though fortunately not likely to remain one. nevertheless, it will probably take years to eradicate a notion that one of the most attractive and advanced countries in europe, possessed in summer of the finest climate in the world, is not the eternal abode of poverty, cold, and darkness. it was just the same before the railway opened up siberia and revealed prosperous cities, fertile plains, and boundless mineral resources to an astonished world. a decade ago my return from this land of civilization, progress, and, above all, humanity was invariably met by the kind of question that heads this chapter, with the addition, as a rule, of facetious allusions to torture and the knout! my ignorance, however, of finland as she really is was probably unsurpassed before my eyes were opened by a personal inspection, so i cannot afford to criticise. what is finland, and what are its geographical and climatic characteristics? i will try to answer these questions briefly and clearly without wearying the reader with statistics. in the first place, finland (in finnish, "suomi") is about the size of great britain, holland, and belgium combined, with a population of about , , . its southern and western shores are washed by the baltic sea, while lake ladoga and the russian frontier form the eastern boundary. finland stretches northward far beyond the head of the gulf of bothnia, where it joins norwegian territory. there are thirty-seven towns, of which only seven have a population exceeding , , viz., helsingfors, abo, tammerfors, viborg, uleaborg, vasa (nikolaistad), and bjorneborg. finland is essentially a flat country, slightly mountainous towards the north, but even her highest peak (haldesjock, in finnish lapland) is under , feet in height. south of this a hill of feet is called a mountain; therefore alpine climbers have no business here. the interior may be described as an undulating plateau largely composed of swamp and forest, broken with granite rocks and gravel ridges and honeycombed with the inland waters known as "the thousand lakes" (although ten thousand would be nearer the mark), one of which is three times the size of the lake of geneva. the rivers are small and unimportant, the largest being only about the size of the seine. on the other hand, the numerous falls and rapids on even the smallest streams render their ascent in boats extremely difficult and often impossible. but lakes and canals are the natural highways of the country; rivers are only utilized as a motive power for electricity, manufactories, and for conveying millions of logs of timber yearly from the inland forests to the sea. a curious fact is that, although many parts of the interior are far below the level of the baltic, the latter is gradually but surely receding from the coast, and many hitherto submerged islets off the latter have been left high and dry by the waves. you may now in places walk from one island to another on dry land, which, fifty years ago, was many fathoms under water, while signs of primitive navigation are constantly being discovered as far as twenty miles inland! it is therefore probable that the millions of islands which now fringe these shores, formed, at some remote period, one continuous strip of land. how vessels ever find their way, say from hangö to nystad, is a mystery to the uninitiated landsman. at a certain place there are no less than islands of various sizes crowded into an area of six square miles! heaven preserve the man who finds himself there, in thick weather, with a skipper who does not quite know the ropes! the provinces of which the grand duchy is composed are as follows, running from north to south: ( ) finnish lapland, ( ) ostrobothnia, ( ) satakunta, ( ) tavastland, ( ) savolax, ( ) karelia, ( ) finland proper, ( ) nyland, and ( ) the aland islands. finnish lapland may be dismissed without comment, for it is a wild, barren region, sparsely populated by nomad tribes, and during the summer is practically impassable on account of its dense forests, pathless swamps, and mosquitoes of unusual size and ferocity. in winter-time journeys can be made quickly and pleasantly in sledges drawn by reindeer, but at other times the country must be crossed in cranky canoes by means of a network of lakes and rivers; and the travelling is about as tough as monotony, short rations, and dirt can make it. i am told that gold has lately been discovered there, but it would need a considerable amount of the precious metal to tempt me into finnish lapland in summer-time. ostrobothnia, which lies immediately south of this undesirable district, contains the towns of tornea and uleaborg. we will pass on to the provinces of central finland, viz., tavastland, savolax, and karelia. the finns say that this is the heart of their country, while helsingfors and tammerfors constitute its brains. so crowded and complicated is the lake system in this part of finland that water almost overwhelms dry land, and the district has been likened to one huge archipelago. forests abound, especially in tavastland, whence timber is exported in large quantities, while agriculture flourishes in all these provinces. crops are generally grown in the valleys, while in other parts the sides and summits of the hills are usually selected for cultivation. large tracts of country about here once laid out for arable are now converted into grazing grounds, for the number of cattle is yearly on the increase. dairy-farming is found to be more profitable and less risky than the raising of wheat and barley in a land where one night of frost sometimes destroys the result of a whole year's patient care and labour. the land is cleared for cultivation by felling and burning, and it is then ploughed in primitive fashion and sown, but only one harvest is generally gathered on one spot. the latter is then deserted, and the following year another patch of virgin soil takes its place. there is thus a good deal of waste, not only in land, but also in trees, which are wantonly cut down for any trifling purpose, regardless of their value or the possible scarcity in the future of timber. accidental forest fires also work sad havoc at times, destroying thousands of pounds' worth of timber in a few hours. pine resin burns almost as fiercely as petroleum, and it sometimes takes days to extinguish a conflagration. many of the poorer people in the central provinces live solely by fishing in the lakes teeming with salmon, which find a ready market both salted and fresh. there is plenty of rough shooting to be had for the asking, but no wild animals of any size. in the far north bears are still numerous, and elk were formerly obtainable. a few of the latter still exist in the wilder parts of the country, but it is now forbidden to kill them. some years ago the forests of tavastland were infested with wolves, and during one fatal season a large number of cattle and even some children were devoured, but a _battue_ organized by the peasantry cleared the brutes out of the country. you may now shoot hares here, and any number of wild fowl, but that is about all. the remainder of finland consists of finland proper and nyland on the south and south-western coasts, and as these comprise not only the capital, but also the large towns of abo and viborg, they may be regarded as the most important, politically, commercially, and socially, in the country. here lakes are still numerous, but insignificant in size compared with those of the interior. on the other hand, the vegetation is richer, for the oak, lime, and hazel do well, and the flora, both wild and cultivated, is much more extensive than in the central and northern districts. several kinds of fruit are grown, and nyland apples are famous for their flavour, while very fair pears, plums, and cherries can be bought cheaply in the markets. currants and gooseberries are, however, sour and tasteless. in these southern districts the culture of cereals has reached a perfection unknown further north, for the farms are usually very extensive, the farmers up to date, and steam implements in general use. dairy-farming is also carried on with excellent results and yearly increasing prosperity. amongst the towns, bjorneborg, nystad, hangö, and kotka will in a few years rival the capital in size and commercial importance. the last on the list is the aland archipelago, which consists of one island of considerable size surrounded by innumerable smaller ones, and situated about fifty miles off the south-western coast of finland. here, oddly enough, nature has been kinder than almost anywhere on the mainland, for although the greater part of the island is wild and forest-clad, the eternal pines and silver birch-trees are blended with the oak, ash and maple, and bright blossoms such as may and hawthorn relieve to a great extent the monotonous green foliage of northern europe. that the alander has much of the swede in his composition is shown by the neatness of his dwellings and cleanly mode of life. he is an amphibious creature, half mariner, half yeoman, a sober, thrifty individual, who spends half of his time at the plough-tail and the other half at the helm. fishing for a kind of small herring called "strömming" is perhaps the most important industry, and a lucrative one, for this fish (salted) is sent all over the country and even to russia proper. farming is a comparatively recent innovation, for the alanders are born men of the sea, and were once reckoned the finest sailors in finland. less than a century ago aland harboured a fine fleet of sailing-ships owned by syndicates formed amongst the peasantry, and engaged in a profitable trade with great britain and denmark. but steamers have knocked all this upon the head, and the commercial future of the islands would now seem to depend chiefly upon the fishing and agricultural industries. the population of these islands is under , , of which the small town of mariehamm, the so-called capital, contains about souls. steamers touch here, so that there is no difficulty in reaching the place, which is certainly worth a visit not only for its antiquity (the alands were inhabited long before the mainland), but on account of the interesting ruins it contains--amongst them the castle of castelholm, built by birger jarl in the fourteenth century, and the time-worn walls of which could tell an interesting history. a part of the famous fortress of bomarsund, destroyed by an anglo-french fleet in , may also be seen not far from mariehamm. plain but decent fare may be obtained here, but the fastidious will do well to avoid the smaller villages, where the alander's diet generally consists solely of seal-meat, salt fish, bread and milk. a delicacy eaten with gusto by these people is composed of seal-oil and the entrails of sea-birds, and is almost identical with one i saw amongst the tchuktchis on bering straits. and yet the alanders are cleanly enough in their habits and the smallest village has its bath-house. at one time aland was famous for sport, and in olden days swedish sovereigns visited the island to hunt the elk, which were then numerous. but these and most other wild animals are now extinct and even wild fowl are scarce. only one animal appears to thrive,--the hedgehog; but the natives do not appear to have discovered its edible qualities. an english tramp could enlighten them on this point. [illustration: helsingfors, finland] the entire population of finland amounts to rather over , , , including a considerable number of swedes, who are found chiefly in the aland islands, nyland, and finland proper. helsingfors, the capital, contains over , souls, and kemi, the smallest town, near the northern frontier, under . of the other cities, abo has , , tammerfors, , , and viborg, , inhabitants. i should add that there is probably no country in creation where the population has so steadily increased, notwithstanding adverse conditions, as finland. after the russian campaign of the country contained barely , souls, and yet, although continually harassed by war and its attendant evils, these had increased thirty years later to , . fifty years ago the finns numbered , , , and the latest census shows nearly double these figures, although in pestilence and famine swept off over , victims. the languages spoken in the grand duchy are finnish and swedish, the former being used by at least eighty-five per cent. of the population. russian-speaking inhabitants number about , , while the lapps amount to , only, other nationalities to under , . although swedish is largely spoken in the towns, finnish only is heard, as a rule, in the rural districts. there is scarcely any nobility in the country, if we except titled swedish settlers. most finns belong to the middle class of life, with the exception of a few families ennobled in by the tsar of russia on his accession as grand duke of finland. the lower orders are generally quiet and reserved in their demeanour, even on festive public occasions, and make peaceable, law-abiding citizens. "'arry" is an unknown quantity here, and "'arriet" does not exist. a stranger will everywhere meet with studied politeness in town and country. drive along a country road, and every peasant will raise his hat to you, not deferentially, but with the quiet dignity of an equal. the high standard of education, almost legally exacted from the lowest classes in finland, is unusually high, for the most illiterate plough boy may not marry the girl of his choice until he can read the bible from end to end to the satisfaction of his pastor, and the same rule applies to the fair sex. the climate of finland is by no means so severe as is generally imagined. as a matter of fact, no country of a similar latitude, with the exception of sweden, enjoys the same immunity from intense cold. this is owing to the gulf stream, which also imparts its genial influence to scandinavia. in summer the heat is never excessive, the rainfall is insignificant, and thunderstorms are rare. july is the warmest, and january the coldest month, but the mean temperature of helsingfors in mid-winter has never fallen below that of astrakhan, on the caspian sea. the weather is, however, frequently changeable, and even in summer the thermometer often rises or falls many degrees in the space of a few hours. you may sit down to dinner in the open air in helsingfors in your shirt-sleeves, and before coffee is served be sending home for a fur coat. but this is an unusual occurrence, for a summer in finland has been my most agreeable climatic experience in any part of the world. the winter is unquestionably hard, and lasts about six months, from november till the middle of april. at christmas time the sun is only visible for six hours a day. the entire surface of the country, land, lake, and river, then forms one vast and frozen surface of snow, which may be traversed by means of sledge, snowshoes, or ski. a good man on the last-named will easily cover his seven miles an hour. although tourists generally affect this country in the open season, a true finlander loves the winter months as much as he dislikes the summer. in his eyes boredom, heat, and mosquitoes are a poor exchange for merry picnics on ski, skating contests, and sledge expeditions by starlight with pretty women and gay companions, to say nothing of the nightly balls and theatre and supper parties. helsingfors is closed to navigation from november until june, for the sea forms an icy barrier around the coast of finland, now no longer impenetrable, thanks to the ice-breakers at hangö. in the north the gulf of bothnia is frozen for even longer. towards april winter shows signs of departure. by the middle of may ice and snow have almost disappeared, except in the north, where uleaborg is, climatically, quite three weeks behind any of the southern towns. before the beginning of june verdure and foliage have reappeared in all their luxuriance, and birds and flowers once more gladden field and forest with perfume and song. even now an occasional shower of sleet besprinkles the land, only to melt in a few minutes, and leave it fresher and greener than before. may and june are, perhaps, the best months, for july and august are sometimes too warm to be pleasant. october and november are gloomy and depressing. never visit finland in the late autumn, for the weather is then generally dull and overcast, while cold, raw winds, mist and sleet, are not the exception. midwinter and midsummer are the most favourable seasons, which offer widely different but equally favourable conditions for the comfort and amusement of the traveller. and, if possible, choose the former, if only for one reason. no one who has ever witnessed the unearthly beauty of a summer night in finland is likely to forget it. the arctic circle should, of course, be crossed to witness the midnight sun in all its glory, but i doubt if the quiet _crépuscule_ (i can think of no other word) of the twilit hours of darkness is not even more weird and fascinating viewed from amid silent streets and buildings than from the sullen dreariness of an arctic desert, which is generally (in summer) as drab and as flat as a biscuit. in arctic lapland, where for two months the sun never sinks below the horizon, you may read small print without difficulty throughout the night between june and august. this would be impossible in helsingfors, where nevertheless from sunset till dawn it is never quite dark. in the far north the midnight sun affords a rather garish light; down south it sheds grey but luminous rays, so faint that they cast no shadows, but impart a weird and mysterious grace to the most commonplace surroundings. no artist has yet successfully portrayed the indescribable charm and novelty of a summer night under these conditions, and, in all probability, no artist ever will! his majesty the tsar's manifesto has not as yet (outwardly, at any rate) russianized the capital of finland. it will probably take centuries to do that, for finland, like france, has an individuality which the combined powers of europe would be puzzled to suppress. a stranger arriving at the railway station of helsingfors, for instance, may readily imagine himself in germany, austria, or even switzerland, but certainly not within a thousand miles of petersburg. everything is so different, from the dapper stationmaster with gold-laced cap of german build down to the porters in clean white linen blouses, which pleasantly contrast with the malodorous sheepskins of unwashed russia. at helsingfors there is nothing, save the soldiery, to remind one of the proximity of tsarland. and out in the country it is the same. the line from mikkeli traverses a fair and prosperous district, as unlike the monotonous scenery over the border as the proverbial dock and daisy. here are no squalid hovels and roofless sheds where half-starved cattle share the misery of their owners; no rotting crops and naked pastures; but snug homestead, flower gardens, and neat wooden fences encircling fields of golden grain and rich green meadow land. to travel in southern finland after northern russia is like leaving the most hideous parts of the black country to suddenly emerge into the brightness and verdure of a sunlit devonshire. _lapland_ _alexander platonovich engelhardt_ the peninsula of kola, which forms the district of that name, extends about versts, or miles, from west to east, from the frontiers of norway and finland to the white sea, and about versts, or miles, from north to south, from the arctic ocean to the gulf of kandalax, covering an area of , square versts, or , , acres. the coast belt from the norwegian border-line to holy cape (or sweet-nose), is called the murman coast, or simply the murman; the eastern and south-eastern part, from holy cape along the white sea to the mouth of the varzuga, goes by the name of the tierski coast; and the southern part, from the varzuga to kandalax, the kandalax coast; whilst the whole of the interior bears the name of russian lapland. the surface of the peninsula is either mountainous, or covered with _tundras_ (i. e., moss-grown wilds), and swamps. the scandinavian mountain range, which divides sweden from norway, extending to the kola peninsula, breaks up into several separate branches. along the shores of the murman they form craggy coast cliffs, rising at times to an elevation of feet. further to the east they become gradually lower, so that near the white sea they seldom exceed fifty or one hundred feet, with less precipitous descents. the reach their greatest height further inland, to the east of lake imandra, where they form the hibinski and luiavrout chains, veiled in perpetual snow. some of the peaks rise to feet above the level of the lake, which, in its turn, is feet higher than the sea-level, so that the mountains surrounding the lake are over , feet above the level of the sea. not far from lake imandra is the lofty mount bozia, (or gods' hill), at the foot of which, according to the traditions of the lapps, their ancestors offered up sacrifices to their gods. even at the present time the lapps of the district speak of this site with peculiar veneration. between the village of kashkarantz and the varzuga rises mt. korable, remarkable for its many caverns, studded with crystals of translucent quartz and amethyst, the former, together with fluor and heavy spar, being met with, too, in the eastern parts of the mountain. the kola peninsula was carefully explored by finnish expeditions in - . the climate of lapland is not everywhere uniform, but in general it is bleak and raw. winter begins about the end of september and continues till may. it is colder inland than by the ice-free shores of the northern ocean, where the warm currents of the gulf stream moderate the cold. and yet the severity of the weather does not injuriously affect the health or longevity of the inhabitants. the winter roads are well set in by the end of october (or early in november), the snow-fall during the winter months amounting to seven quarters, or four feet one inch. the polar night lasts from the th of november to the th of january, but the darkness is not by any means so great as one would imagine. the white of the snow gives a certain glimmer of light, and the frequent and prolonged flashes of aurora borealis set the heavens in a blaze as with clouds of fire, turning night into twilight, as it were, and by their brilliancy and beauty making some amends to the natives for the absence of the sun's rays. it is easy even to read by their light; while each day, about noon, there is enough daylight for an hour or so to enable one to dispense with candles. so that under the name of polar night should be understood not the total absence of light, but rather the season when the sun no longer appears above the horizon. it begins to show itself again about the th of january, gradually rising higher and higher as the days advance. [illustration: reindeer travelling] snow vanishes from the plains towards the middle (or end) of may, but remains the whole year round in the gorges of the mountains. the rivers are clear of ice about the beginning (or middle) of may, and within a month from that time the first shoots of verdure begin to appear on the meadows and hill-sides. the sun never sets from the th of may to the st of july. there is neither twilight nor night,--the long arctic day has set in. during this period the sun warms the soil only at noon, simply shining for the rest of the day, seemingly a golden orb without heat. summer, beginning about the middle (_i. e._, end) of june, barely lasts two months. by july flowers are already shedding their blossoms, their rapid growth being aided by the unbroken daylight. any attempts at agriculture in such a climate are, of course, foredoomed to failure, but along the river banks some fairly good meadows enable the settlers of the murman to rear all the cattle they need. turnips are the only vegetables that can be raised, with, here and there, a few potatoes. the southern and western portions of the peninsula are covered with pretty good timber, mostly pine (_pinus silvestris_). as you go further north, the timber becomes more and more stunted, consisting chiefly of birchwood, till you reach the open _tundra_, which is clothed in moss and low-growing shrubs. the lapps lead a semi-nomadic life. the settlements in which they live are called _pagosts_, each group of lapps having its particular summer and winter _pagost_. the latter is usually inland near the forests, where they herd their deer in winter. in summer they wander nearer to the coasts and lakes for the sake of the fishing. the winter dwelling of the lapp is called a _toopa_, a small smoky sod-covered hut, covering some to square feet; whereas in summer he lives in his _vieja_, a large wigwam resembling a samoyede _choom_, but covered over, not with skins as with the samoyedes, but with branches, tree-bark and turfs. the typical lapp is dwarf-like and thick-set. he usually wears a grey cloth jacket, his head being encircled in a high woollen cap tapering to a tassel at the top, while his feet, wrapped up in rags, are then covered with big shoes. in general, his whole appearance, with his pointed beard, bears a striking resemblance to the familiar representations of "gnomes," as these denizens of the subterranean world are pictured to us in fairy books. few of the lapps, however, confine themselves to this characteristic type of lapp costume, but wear whatever comes to their hands,--hats, caps, clothes "made in germany" and so on. among the women, especially the younger ones, some fairly pretty faces may be met with. their dress is usually a calico _sarafan_, and generally speaking, there is nothing specially distinguishing about their apparel. the lapp race is evidently dying out, or rather, is gradually intermingling with, and being absorbed by, the neighbouring races. with neither written memorials nor a historic past to cling to, nor any particular religious belief, they are all of the orthodox faith. in assuming the customs and civilization of the russians, the lapps often abandon their own tribe, and assimilate with the stronger race. i have often heard such sayings as the following from lapps who have more or less settled down: "i'm not a lapp at all, i'm a russian now," or "he's a good man" (_i. e._, active, energetic) "and not a lapp." so that they evidently have no particularly high opinion of themselves, and put no great value on their tribal individuality; and yet, as the free-born child of the broad and boundless _tundra_, the lapp dearly loves his home and open roving life. the chief occupations of the lapps are reindeer-rearing and fishing, and in winter, the transport of goods by means of their deer. they are unfortunately bad husbandmen, utterly reckless about the increase of their herds, and never dreaming of looking upon them as sources of gain. deer-herding is not, in their eyes, a regular business, they merely keep such head as are required for domestic uses, that is, for food, clothing and travelling. very few lapps own big herds, while most of them hardly know or care how many in reality they have. in summer, when the deer are not wanted for travelling purposes, they dismiss them to range at large, without any surveillance whatever. to escape the persecutions of gadflies and mosquitoes the deer generally flock to the hibinski mountains, or else wander to the sea-shore. when thus at large they multiply freely of themselves, and, by this time half wild, often stray away from the herds altogether. the rearing of reindeer might easily be made such a profitable business as to be sufficient in itself to insure a comfortable livelihood to the lapps. the deer itself hardly requires any looking after the whole year round. all through the summer it feeds on various grasses, and in winter on the _yagel_, or reindeer lichen (_cladonia rangiferina_), which it scratches out from under the snow, with its hoofs. this lichen, or moss, grows in profusion all over the _tundras_ and forests of the kola peninsula. it is his deer which supply the lapp with food and clothing, convey his family and goods hundreds of versts in his wanderings, and, finally, give him the opportunity of adding to his income by acting as carrier, and by supplying teams to the government postal-stations, etc. some years ago some ziriàns from the petchora settled in the kola peninsula with their herds, numbering some , head. the lapps welcomed them into their community, looking upon them, indeed, as benefactors, as the ziriàns, a smart and enterprising race, get everything needed for household purposes, which they obtain much cheaper than the lapps themselves could before, at the same time giving good prices for the skins of reindeer and other wild animals killed by the lapps. so far no want of grazing plots has been felt. the ziriàns have already over , head of deer, deriving, comparatively speaking, enormous gains from them. but then, unlike the lapps, the ziriàns go about their business in systematic and sensible fashion, safeguarding their stock from the incursions of beasts of prey, tending them carefully winter and summer, driving them from time to time to suitable pastures, etc. _moscow_ _the kremlin and its treasuries. the ancient regalia. the romanoff house_ _alfred maskell_ moscow is the second capital of the empire, but by ancient right the first, although now surpassed both in commerce and population by the modern city of peter the great. moscow occupies almost exactly the geographical centre of european russia. artistically it is of far greater interest to us than its northern rival. it has preserved the old oriental type: in its palaces has been displayed the barbaric pomp of the muscovite tsars of which much yet remains, not only in their renovated halls but also in what is left of the plate, jewels and ornaments with which they once abounded. the general plan resembles somewhat that of paris; the different quarters have gradually developed around a centre, and the river moskva meanders through them as the seine. the centre is the kremlin; in shape an irregular triangle surrounded by high walls, outside which is the first walled-in quarter--the kitai-gorod, that is the chinese city, about the meaning of which term there is some dispute. it is not, nor ever has been, in any way chinese. the name of moscow appears first in the chronicles in , when youri, a son of vladimir monomachus, built the first houses of a town on the hill where the kremlin now stands, but it was not until at least a century later that the city became of any importance. in , it was burned by the tartars and the real founder was daniel, a son of alexander nevski. he was the first prince buried in the church of st. michael where, until the time of peter the great, all the sovereigns of russia have been buried; as in the metropolitan cathedral of the assumption, but a few steps distant, they have all been crowned up to the present day. from the fifteenth to the seventeenth centuries, at the time when the arts flourished in russia, in the greatest profusion and magnificence, moscow was endowed with her richest monuments. it was then the numerous churches arose, the kremlin, and the palaces of the boyars. at that time the city consisted of the kremlin and the three walled-in enclosures which encircle it and each other as the several skins and shell inclose the kernel of a walnut. it appears to have been built in a haphazard fashion, though the old plans, with the houses sketched in rows, exhibit an uniformity of streets and buildings. they show us also that the houses were for the most part of wood, having each a covered outside staircase leading to the upper stories. built so much of wood it was exposed to frequent conflagrations, the last being the great burning at the time of the french invasion in . but so quickly was it always rebuilt and on the same lines that it has ever retained its original and irregular aspect. the kremlin was at first of wood, but under the two ivans it was surrounded by the solid stone walls of white stone cut in facets, which have given to the city the name "white mother," or "holy mother moscow with the white walls." [illustration: moscow.] the kremlin is at the same time a fortress and a city contained within itself, with its streets and palaces, churches, monasteries, and barracks. eighteen towers and five gateways garnish the long extent of the inclosing wall; two of the gateways are interesting; that of the saviour built by pietro solario in , and that of the trinity by christopher galloway in the seventeenth century. here, among the churches are those of the assumption and of st. michael; here are the new palace of the tsar, the restored terem (what is left of the old palace), the sacristy and library of the patriarchs, the treasure and regalia, the great tower of ivan veliki in which hangs the largest bell in the world that will ring, and beneath it the "tsar kolokol," the king of bells, which it is supposed has never been rung and the king of cannons which has never been fired. the ancient "kazna," or treasury of the kremlin, where the riches of the tsars have been preserved from time immemorial was in the reign of ivan iii. situated within the walls of the kremlin, between the cathedrals of st. michael and of the annunciation. here it remained until the great fire of . the treasure had already suffered a heavy loss: in the early part of the seventeenth century, at the time of the war with poland, a large quantity of plate was melted down to provide for the payment of the troops. the fire of caused a further and greater loss and destroyed also a large part of the armoury. at the time of the french invasion in the whole of the treasure, together with the regalia, was removed to novgorod, and thus escaped destruction of seizure. on its return to moscow in , systematic arrangements were made for its preservation, and for the formation and arrangement of the museum in which it is now exhibited. in the year the new building of the orujénaia palata which forms part of the modern palace of the kremlin was completed, and to this the entire collection was transferred. the treasury of moscow has been almost from the time of the establishment of the russian empire the place where the riches of the tsars have been kept; consisting of the regalia, of the state costumes, of the plate and vases used in the service of their table, of their most magnificent armour and horse-trappings, of their state carriages and sledges and of the presents which from time to time the sovereigns of other countries sent through their ambassadors, of whose embassies so many interesting accounts have come down to us. the collection of plate is exposed on open stands arranged in tiers round the pillars, or otherwise displayed in a vast hall of the new building of the orujénaia palata. the riches thus brought together have suffered many changes. the court was frequently moved, the state of the empire was continually disturbed, fires were of frequent occurrence, and necessity at times caused much treasure to be melted down. the tsar's favourites received no doubt from time to time acceptable marks of his approbation in the shape of rich presents, and many specimens of plate found their way probably in a similar manner to the churches and monasteries. but notwithstanding all this, there still remains permanently installed and carefully guarded in the treasury of the kremlin a collection of plate which, for extent, variety, and interest, may rival that in any other palace in the world. it appears to have been customary during the last two centuries at least to make a grand display of this treasure on the occasion of the visit of the sovereign, and especially during the ceremonies of the coronation. then, in the centre of the hall in the ancient _terem_, known as the gold room, where the tsar dines in solitary state, a kind of buffet is arranged and other stands disposed, loaded and groaning with this rich accumulation. great splendour and richness of material, the lavish use of jewels in the decoration, and the brilliant colour derived from the employment of enamels are characteristics of eastern art in the precious metals. but while we are struck by the delicacy and refinement with which these are employed by many eastern countries, and while we admire the taste and harmony of colour displayed by the workmen of india or of persia, it must be confessed that the russian tempted by the glitter and display which are so much in accordance with his own taste, has been unable to use the same judgment as those whom he has taken as his models. few would deny that there reigns throughout his work that quality which is best expressed by the term--barbaric magnificence. this is not vulgarity: such a term is not applicable; it is the outcome of the desire which is to be found amongst all nations who have attained a certain degree of civilization and riches to impose respect and awe by a lavish display of material wealth or by the use of gorgeous colour, which always calls forth the admiration of the multitude. in the plate and jewelled ornament which we find in the treasury of the kremlin, we shall find that russian taste was fond of solid material and ornament, enriched with many and large precious stones of value. all oriental nations have ever loved to accumulate riches of this description which, at the same time that they are of use as ornament, are also of intrinsic value. the crowns, and thrones, and sceptres, the ornaments of the imperial costume, the gold and silver plate and vases and other precious objects of the court of the tsars have, therefore, a character of solid splendour, a want of refinement and delicacy, which is almost uniformly characteristic. still they are not deficient in a certain grandeur and even elegance, and in details there is much that is admirable, much that is strikingly original. by far the greater number of pieces that we shall find in the kremlin and elsewhere belong to the seventeenth century. in the treasury of the kremlin we have but one piece of the twelfth century and some few of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries. all the rest are later. the entire number of pieces in the kremlin amounts to sixteen hundred. after the disasters of , all the ancient plate for the service of the tsar's table was melted down and converted into money; many objects in gold and silver and jewelled work being at the same time given in pledge to the troops of vladislas iv. there are therefore few examples earlier than the dynasty of the romanoffs. the treasure contains also some of the most highly venerated icons, crosses, and reliquaries in russia. as regards many of these it is difficult to assign a date or a place of production. many of them have histories more or less legendary, but while some may appear to belong absolutely to the greek school, we must not forget that russia sent its workmen to mount athos to be instructed and to work there, and on their return the traditions and models of the school were scrupulously observed in the workshops of moscow. the regalia of the ancient tsars scarcely yield in interest to that of any other country. they consist of a large number of crowns or jewelled caps of peculiar form, of orbs and sceptres, of the imperial costume, and especially of that peculiar part of the latter, a kind of collar or shoulder ornament, known as the _barmi_. other important pieces of the regalia of alexis michailovitch are the orbs and sceptres, the bow and arrow case of the same description of workmanship. these are gorgeous specimens of jewelled and enamelled work attributed to constantinople. the sceptre of the tsar michailovitch is of similar enamelled work, and is probably a good specimen of the effect of western influence on the goldsmiths of moscow. the figures especially appear to be of the italian renaissance. another sceptre is unmistakably russian work, and if not of pure taste is at least of fine workmanship and imposing magnificence. the thrones are of high interest from more than one point of view. we must content ourselves with choosing two from amongst them, viz.: the ivory throne of ivan iii. (_antiquities of the russian empire_, ii. - ), and the throne known as the persian throne (_ibid_, ii. - ). the first was brought from constantinople in by the tsarina sophia paleologus, who, by her marriage with ivan iii., united the coats of arms of byzantium and russia. there is a certain resemblance between this throne and that known as the chair of st. peter at rome. the general form is the same, as is the manner in which the ivory plaques and their borderings are placed. the second throne is a magnificent work, which, according to a register as the _book of embassies_, was sent from persia in the year to the tsar alexis by a certain ichto modevlet, of the shah's court. m. weltman, in his enumeration of the treasury of the kremlin, says: "it was therefore probably made in the workshops of ispahan about the same time that the globe, sceptre, and _barmi_ were ordered from constantinople." [illustration: the kremlin, moscow.] the kremlin contains a large number of pieces of decorative plate of all kinds made for the service of the table of the tsars, or displayed on buffets on state occasions. much of it is the production of other countries, presented by their ambassadors or purchased for the tsar. the frequent fires and the melting down of treasure during the polish disturbances have much diminished this collection, and possibly also many of the finest pieces have disappeared. of the large service of gold plate of the tsar alexis, which consisted of covers, two plates are all that remain. these are, however, sufficient evidence of the skill and taste of the moscow goldsmiths of the period and of their dexterity in the use of enamel. the treasury of the kremlin contains a large number of cups or vases of silver-gilt, for table use, of russian work. there is no great variety in the cups, but some forms are peculiar to the country. there are especially the cups called _bratini_ (loving cups, from _brat_, a brother), the bowls or ladles termed _kovsh_, and the small cups with one flat handle for strong liquors. tall beakers expanding at the lip and contracted at the middle are also favourite forms, but the bulbous shape is the most frequent. indeed, that form of bulb or cupola which we see upon the churches is peculiarly characteristic. we find it with more or less resemblance, in the ancient crowns, in the mitres of the popes, in the bowls of chalices and in vases and bowls for drinking. in the _bratini_ and _kovsh_ the bulging form of ornament, the coving up of the bottoms of the bowls, and the use of twisted lobes are very common. the cathedral of the assumption is one of the many churches situated within the precincts of the kremlin. it was reconstructed by fioraventi in after the model of the cathedral of vladimir, and in spite of the frequent calamities and fires which have half ruined moscow still preserves in a great measure its primitive character. the church of the assumption has five domes resting in the centre of the building on four massive circular pillars, and the sanctuary is composed of four hemicycles. the cathedral of the archangel michael is close by and was built in in imitation of it. near this again is the cathedral of the annunciation. this, which was built in , is more original in style and recalls the churches of mount athos, or that of kertch, which dates from the tenth century. mention must be made of an ancient building, the house known as the romanoff house in moscow. it was the birthplace of the tsar michael theodorovitch, founder of the now reigning family, and also of his father theodore nikitisch, who became patriarch under the name of philaret. in its restored state the romanoff house is still perhaps the most remarkable ancient building existing in russia as a perfect specimen of the old dwelling-houses of the boyards. it is built of stone, and the solid exterior walls are as they originally stood. the interior restoration, completed by the emperor alexander in , has been carried out with great care in the exact style of the time, the furniture and ornaments being authentic and placed as they would have been. _vassili-blagennoi_ (_st. basil the blessed_) _thÉophile gautier_ we soon reached the kitai-gorod, which is the business quarter, upon the krasnaia, the red square, or rather the beautiful square, for in russia the words red and beautiful are synonymous. upon one side of this square is the long façade of the gostinnoi-dvor, an immense bazaar with streets enclosed by glass-like passages, and which contains no less than , shops. the outside wall of the kremlin rears itself on another side, with gates piercing the towers of sharply peaked roofs, permitting you to see above it the turrets, the domes, the belfries and the spires of the churches and convents it encloses. on another side, strange as the architecture of dreamland, stands the chimerical and impossible church of vassili-blagennoi, which makes your reason doubt the testimony of your eyes. although it appears real enough, you ask yourself if it is not a fantastic mirage, a building made of clouds curiously coloured by the sunlight, and which the quivering air will change or cause to dissolve. without any doubt, it is the most original building in the world; it recalls nothing that you have ever seen and it belongs to no style whatever: you might call it a gigantic madrepore, a colossal formation of crystals, or a grotto of stalactites inverted. but let us not search for comparisons to give an idea of something that has no prototype. let us try rather to describe vassili-blagennoi, if indeed there exists a vocabulary to speak of what had never been imagined previously. there is a legend about vassili-blagennoi, which is probably not true, but which nevertheless expresses with strength and poetry the sense of wondering stupefaction felt at the semi-barbarous period when that singular edifice, so remote from all architectural traditions, was erected. ivan the terrible had this cathedral built as a thank-offering for the conquest of kasan, and when it was finished, he found it so beautiful, wonderful and astounding, that he ordered the architect's eyes to be put out--they say he was an italian--so that he could never erect anything similar. according to another version of the same legend, the tsar asked the originator of this church if he could not erect a still more beautiful one, and upon his reply in the affirmative, he cut off his head, so that vassili-blagennoi might remain unrivalled forever. a more flattering exhibition of jealous cruelty cannot be imagined, but this ivan the terrible was at bottom a true artist and a passionate dilettante. such ferocity in matters of art is more pleasing to me than indifference. imagine on a kind of platform which lifts the base from the ground, the most peculiar, the most incomprehensible, the most prodigious heaping up of large and little cabins, outside stairways, galleries with arcades and unexpected hiding-places and projections, unsymmetrical porches, chapels in juxtaposition, windows pierced in the walls at haphazard, indescribable forms and a rounding out of the interior arrangement, as if the architect, seated in the centre of his work had produced a building by thrusting it out from him. from the roof of this church which might be taken for a hindu, chinese, or thibetan pagoda, there springs a forest of belfries of the strangest taste, fantastic beyond anything else in the world. the one in the centre, the tallest and most massive, shows three or four stories from base to spire. first come little columns, and toothed string-courses, then come some pilasters framing long mullioned windows, then a series of blank arches like scales, overlapping one another, and on the sides of the spire wart-like ornaments outlining each spire, the whole terminated by a lantern surmounted by an inverted golden bulb bearing on its tip the russian cross. the others, which are slenderer and shorter, affect the form of the minaret, and their fantastically ornamented towers end in cupolas that swell strangely into the form of onions. some are tortured into facets, others ribbed, some cut into diamond-shaped points like pineapples, some striped with fillets in spirals, others again decorated with lozenge-shaped and overlapping scales, or honeycombed like a bee-hive, and all adorned at their summit with the golden ball surmounted by the cross. [illustration: vassili-blagennoi (st. basil the blessed), moscow.] what adds still more to the fantastic effect of vassili-blagennoi, is that it is coloured with the most incongruous tones which nevertheless produce a harmonious effect that charms the eye. red, blue, apple-green and yellow meet here in all portions of the building. columns, capitals, arches and ornaments are painted with startling shades which give a strong relief. on the plain spaces of rare occurrence, they have simulated divisions or panels framing pots of flowers, rose-windows, wreathing vines, and chimæras. the domes of the bell-towers are decorated with coloured designs that recall the patterns of india shawls; and, displayed thus on the roofs of the church, they recall the kiosks of the sultans. the same fantastic genius presided over the plan and ornamentation of the interior. the first chapel, which is very low and in which a few lamps glimmer, resembles a golden cavern; unexpected stars throw their rays across the dusky shadows and make the stiff images of the greek saints stand out like phantoms. the mosaics of st. mark's in venice alone can give an approximate idea of the effect of this astonishing richness. at the back, the iconostas looms up in the twilight shot through with rays like a golden and jewelled wall between the faithful and the priests of the sanctuary. vassili-blagennoi does not present, like other churches, a simple interior composed of several naves communicating and cut at certain points of intersection after the laws of the rites followed in the temple. it is formed of a collection of churches, or chapels, in juxtaposition and independent of each other. each bell-tower contains a chapel, which arranges itself as it pleases in this mass. the dome is the terminal of the spire or the bulb of the cupola. you might believe yourself under the enormous casque of some circassian or tartar giant. these calottes are, moreover, marvellously painted and decorated in the interior. it is the same with the walls covered with those barbaric and hieratic figures, the traditional designs for which the greek monks of mount athos have preserved from century to century, and which, in russia, often deceive the careless observer regarding the age of a building. it is a peculiar sensation to find yourself in these mysterious sanctuaries, where personages familiar to the roman catholic cult, mingle with the saints peculiar to the greek calendar, and seem in their archaic byzantine and constrained appearance to have been translated awkwardly into gold by the childish devotion of a primitive race. these images that you view across the carved and silver-gilt work of the iconostas, where they are ranged symmetrically upon the golden screen opening their large fixed eyes and raising their brown hand with the fingers turned in a symbolic fashion, produce, by means of their somewhat savage, superhuman and immutable traditional aspect, a religious impression not to be found in more advanced works of art. these figures, seen amid the golden reflections and twinkling light of the lamps, easily assume a phantasmagorical life, capable of impressing sensitive imaginations and of creating, especially at the twilight hour, a peculiar kind of sacred awe. narrow corridors, low arched passages, so narrow that your elbows brush the walls and so low that you have to bend your head, circle about these chapels and lead from one to the other. nothing could be more fantastic than these passages; the architect seems to have taken pleasure in tangling up their threading ways. you ascend, you descend, you seem to go out of the building, you seem to return, twisting about a cornice to follow the curves of a bell-tower, and walking through thick walls in tortuous passages that might be compared to the capillary tubes of madrepores, or to the roads made by insects in the barks of trees. after so many turnings and windings, your head swims, a vertigo seizes you, and you wonder if you are not a mollusk in an immense shell. i do not speak of the mysterious corners, of inexplicable c�cums, low doors opening no one knows whither, dark stairways descending into profound depths; for i could never finish talking of this architecture, which you seem to walk through as if in a dream. _poland_ _thomas michell_ the tsar still bears the title of king of poland, but the constitutional kingdom created at the great settlement of political accounts in has been officially styled "the cis-vistula provinces," ever since the absolute incorporation with the russian empire in . the provinces in question, ten in number, have an aggregate area of , english square miles, and a population of eight millions, composed to the extent of sixty-five per cent. of poles, the remainder being jews (in the proportion of thirteen per cent., and settled chiefly in towns), lithuanians, russians, germans, and other aliens. the poles (the polacks of shakespeare), are a branch of the sclav race, their language differing but little from that of the russians, czechs (bohemians), servians, bulgarians, and other kindred remnants. contact and co-operation with western civilization, and escape from tartar subjugation, permitted the poles to work out their own development on lines so widely apart from those pursued by their russian brethren, that the complete amalgamation of these two great sclav branches has long been a matter of practical impossibility. polish history begins, like that of russia, with scandinavian invasion; szainocha, a reliable authority of the present century, asserted that the northmen descended on the polish coast of the baltic, and became, as in russia, ancestors of the noble houses. on the other hand, it is on record that the first grand duke of poland (about a. d. ), was piastus, a peasant, who founded a dynasty that was superseded only in by the lithuanian jagellons. christianity was introduced by the fourth of the piasts, a. d. , and it was a sovereign of the same house, boleslas i., the brave, who gave a solid foundation to the polish state. he conquered dantzig and pomerania, silesia, moravia, and white russia, as far as the dnieper. after being partitioned, in accordance with the principle that long obtained in the neighbouring russian principalities, the component territories of poland were reunited by vladislaf (ladislaf) the short, who established his capital, in , at cracow, where the polish kings were ever after crowned. casimir the great, the polish justinian ( - ), gained for himself the title of _rex rusticorum_, by the bestowal of benefits on the peasantry, who were _adscripti gleh�_, and by the limitation of the power of the nobles, or freeholders. on his death, louis, king of hungary, his sister's son, was called to the throne; but in order to insure its continued possession he was compelled to reinstate the nobles in all their privileges, under a _pacta conventa_, which, subject to alterations made at diets, was retained as part of the coronation oath so long as there were polish kings to be consecrated. he was the last sovereign of the piast period. after compelling his daughter to marry, not william of austria, whom she loved, but jagellon, duke of lithuania, who offered to unite his extensive and adjacent dominions with those of poland, and to convert his own pagan subjects to christianity, the nobles, in virtue of their magna charta, elected jagellon (baptized under the name of ladislas) to the throne of poland, which thus became dynastically united ( ), with that of lithuania. on the death, in , of sigismund ii., augustus, the last of the jagellons, the power of the king, already limited by that of two chambers, was still further diminished, and the crown became elective. while occupied in besieging the huguenots at rochelle, and at a time when poland enjoyed more religious liberty than any other country in europe, henry of valois was elected to the throne, in succession to sigismund ii.; but he quickly absconded from cracow in order to become henry iii. of france. the jesuits, introduced in the next reign, that of stephen bathori, brought strong intolerance with them, and one of the reasons that led the cossacks of the polish ukraine to solicit russian protection was the inferior position to which their greek religion had been reduced in relation to roman catholicism. the russians and poles had been at war with each other for two centuries. moscow had been occupied in by the poles in the name of ladislas, son of sigismund iii., of the swedish wasa family, elected to the muscovite throne by the russian boyars, but soon expelled by the patriots, under minin and pojarski. sobieski, who had saved vienna for the austrians, could not keep kief and little russia for the poles. such was the outcome of disorders and revolutions in the state, and of wars with muscovy, turkey, and sweden, as well as with tartars and cossacks. frederick augustus ii., elector of saxony, succeeded sobieski, and reigned until , with an interval of five years, during which he was superseded by stanislas i. [illustration: nowo zjazd street, warsaw.] dissension and anarchy became still more general, in the reign of the next sovereign, augustus iii. civil war, in which the question of the rights of lutherans, calvinists, and other "dissidents" obnoxious to the roman catholic church played a great part, resulted in the intervention of russia and prussia, and in the first partition of poland was consummated. the second followed in , under an arrangement between the same countries, which had taken alarm at a liberal constitution voted by the polish diet in , especially as it had provided for the emancipation of the _adscripti gleb�_. the struggle made by thaddeus kosciuszko ended in the entry of suvoroff into warsaw over the ashes of the prague suburb, and in the third dismemberment ( ), of ancient poland, under which even warsaw was absorbed by russia. previous to these several partitions, poland occupied a territory much more extensive than that of france. in addition to the kingdom proper, it included the province of posen and part of west prussia, cracow, and galicia, lithuania, the provinces of volhynia and podolia, and part of the present province of kief. in , dantzig was a seaport of poland, kaminets, in podolia, its border stronghold against turkey; while to the west and north its frontier extended almost to the walls of riga, and to within a short distance from moscow. in still earlier times, bessarabia, moldavia, silesia, and livonia were embraced within the polish possessions. these successive partitions gave the most extensive portion of polish territory to russia, the most populous to austria, and the most commercial to prussia. napoleon i. revived a polish state out of the provinces that had been seized by prussia and austria. this was first constituted into a grand duchy under the king of saxony, and in , when galicia (with cracow) was restored to austria, and posen to prussia, warsaw became again a kingdom under a constitution granted by alexander i. the old polish provinces that had fallen to the share of catherine ii. at the partitions remained incorporated with the russian empire, but were not fully subjected to a russian administration until after the great polish insurrection of , when also the constitution of was withdrawn, the national army abolished, and the polish language proscribed in the public offices. notwithstanding the wide measures of home rule introduced by alexander ii. into the administration of the kingdom, and which, in combination with many liberal and pregnant reforms in russia proper appeared to offer to the poles the prospect of no inconsiderable influence over the destinies of the russian empire, the old spirit of national independence began to manifest itself, and in , not without encouragement from napoleon iii., an insurrection broke out at warsaw. outside warsaw and its immediate vicinity there is little in russian poland to interest the tourist. the country is generally level and monotonous, with wide expanses of sand, heath, and forest, and it is only towards the north and east that the ground may be said to be heavily timbered. dense forests stretch down from the russian, anciently polish, province of grodno, and now form the last retreat in europe of the _bison europeans_, the survivor of the aurochs (_bos primigenius_), which is supposed to have been the original stock of our horned cattle. although much worried by the wolf, the bear, and the lynx, the bison is strictly preserved from the hunter, and are not therefore likely to disappear like the _bos americanus_, or buffalo, which has so long been ruthlessly slaughtered in the united states. interspersed among these barren or wooded tracts are areas containing some of the finest corn-bearing soil in europe, supplying from time immemorial vast quantities of superior grain for shipment from ports in the baltic. it is produced on the larger estates of two hundred to fifteen hundred acres, belonging to more than eight thousand proprietors. the peasantry, who hold more than , farms--seldom exceeding forty acres--contribute next to nothing towards exportation, their mode of agriculture being almost as rude as that of the russian peasantry, and their habits of life but little superior, especially in the matter of drink. towns, large and small, occur more frequently than in russia, and while some are rich and industrial, others--we may say the great majority--are poor and squalid, affording no accommodation that would render possible the visit of even the least fastidious traveller. consequently we confine ourselves to warsaw, which we take on our way by rail to or from st. petersburg or moscow. founded in the twelfth century, and, during the piast period, the seat of the appanaged dukes of masovia, warszawa, replaced cracow as the residence of the polish kings and therefore as the capital of poland, on the election of sigismund iii. ( ). it has now a population of about , , not including the russian garrison of , officers and men. the left bank of the vistula, on which warsaw is chiefly built, is high, and the pretty, gay, and animated city, with its stately lines of streets, wide squares, and spacious gardens, is picturesquely disposed along the brow of the cliff and on the plains above. across the broad sandy bed of the stream, here "shallow, ever-changing, and divided as poland itself," and which is on its way from the carpathians to the baltic, is the prague suburb, which, formerly fortified, has never recovered from the assault by suvoroff in , when its sixteen thousand inhabitants were indiscriminately put to the sword. a vast panorama spreads out in every direction from this melancholy and dirty point of vantage. opposite is the zamek, or castle, built by the dukes of masovia, and enlarged and restored by several of the polish kings, from sigismund iii. to stanislas augustus poniatovski. its pictures and objects of art are now at st. petersburg, and moscow, and the old royal apartments are occupied by the governor-general. the square in front of the castle was the scene of the last polish "demonstrations," in , when it was twice stained with blood. in the stare miasto, or old town, strongly old german in aspect, stands the cathedral, built in the thirteenth century, and restored on the last occasion by king john sobieski. a still more ancient sacred edifice is the church of our lady in the nove miasto, or new town; but it certainly retains no traces of deep antiquity. beyond the great sapieha and sierakovski barracks towers the alexander citadel, with its outlying fortifications, built in - , at the expense of the city, as a penalty for the insurrection in . in the same direction, but a considerable distance from the town, is mariemont, the country seat of the consort of john sobieski; also kaskada, a place of entertainment much frequented by the inhabitants of warsaw, and bielany, a pretty spot on the vistula commanding a fine view. the churches and chapels, mostly roman catholic, are numerous (eighty-five), and so are the monasteries and convents (twenty-two). near novi sviat (new world) street, we find the avenues, or _champs elysées_, bordered by fine lime-trees, in front of elegant private residences. crossing a large square, in which the troops are exercised, and the military hospital at uiazdov, formerly a castle of the kings of poland, we reach the fine park of lazienki, a country seat of much elegance built by king stanislas augustus, and now the residence of the emperor when he visits warsaw. the ceilings of this _château_ were painted by bacciarelli, and its walls are hung with portraits of numerous beautiful women. contiguous to the lazienki park are the extensive gardens of the belvedere palace, in which the poles attempted in to get rid of their viceroy, the grand duke constantine. we drive hence in less than an hour to one of the most interesting places near warsaw. this is the castle of villanov, built by john sobieski, who died in it. to this retreat he brought back the trophies of his mighty deeds in arms, and here sought repose after driving the turks from the walls of vienna. the _château_, now the property of countess potoçka, is full of historical portraits, objects of art, and other curiosities, of which the most interesting is the magnificent suit of armour presented by the pope to sobieski in memory of his great victory. the apartments of his beautiful consort are of great elegance. in the gallery of pictures we notice an admirable rubens--the _death of seneca_; although we are more strongly attracted by an original portrait of bacon, which is but little known in england. [illustration: hotel de ville, warsaw.] for want of space, again we must plead guilty of omitting to describe many palatial residences, and several noticeable monuments, among which is one to copernicus, the polish founder of modern astronomy. on the same ground we pass over handsome public buildings, theatres, gardens and cemeteries, in one of which, the evangelical cemetery, is buried john cockerell, to whom belgium owes so much of her industrial prosperity. _kief, the city of pilgramage_ _j. beavington atkinson_ kief, the jerusalem of russia, is by nature marked for distinction; she rises like an etruscan city from the plain; she is flanked by fortifications; she is pleasantly clothed by trees, and height beyond height is crowned by castle or by church. fifty thousand pilgrims annually, many of whom are footsore from long and weary journeying, throw themselves on their knees as they see the sacred city from afar: her holy places shine in the sun as a light set upon a hill which cannot be hid. three holy shrines which i can recall to mind--kief, assisi, and jerusalem--are alike fortunate in command of situation; the approach to each is most impressive. in kief particularly the natural landscape is heightened in pictorial effect by the picturesque groups of pilgrims, staves in hand and wallets on back, who may be seen at all hours of the day clambering up the hill, resting under the shadow of a tree, or reverently bowing the head at the sound of a convent bell. kief is not one city, but three cities, each with its own fortification. the old town, strong in position, and enclosing within its circuit the cathedral of st. sophia and the palace of the metropolitan, was in remote ages a sclavonian pantheon, sacred to the russian jupiter and other savage gods. the new town, separated from the old town by a deep ravine, stands on a broad platform which rises precipitously from the banks of the dnieper. the walls are massive, the fort is strong, and the famous monastery, the first in rank in russia, with its gilt and coloured domes, shines from out the shade of a deep wood. the third division, "the town of the vale," situated between the hills and the river, is chiefly devoted to commerce. without much stretch of fancy it might be said that kief, like rome, lisbon and some other cities, is built on seven hills. and thus the pictorial aspect changes almost at every step; a winding path will bring to view an unsuspected height, or open up a valley previously hid. the traveller has in the course of his wanderings often to feel thankful that a kind providence has planted sacred places in the midst of lovely scenery. the holy mountain at varallo, the sacred hill at orta, are, like the shrines of kief, made doubly pleasant for pilgrimage through the beauties of nature by which they are surrounded. it is said that at the monastery of the grande chartreuse the monks do not permit themselves to look too much at the outward landscape, lest their hearts should by the loveliness of earth be estranged from heaven. i do not think that russian priests or pilgrims incur any such danger. when they are neither praying nor eating they are sleeping; in short, i did not among the motley multitude see a single eye open to the loveliness of colour in the sky above, or to the beauty of form in the earth beneath. it is singular how obtuse these people are; i have noticed in a crowded railway carriage that not a face would be turned to the glory of the setting sun, but if a church tower came into view on the distant horizon, every hand was raised to make the sign of the cross. while taking my observations among the pilgrims at kief i was struck with the fact, not only that a superstitious faith, but that a degraded art blinds the eye to the beauty of nature. it is one of the high services of true art to lead the mind to the contemplation, to the love and the better understanding, of the works of creation. but, on the contrary, it is the penalty of this byzantine art to close the appointed access between nature and nature's god. an art which ignores and violates truth and beauty cannot do otherwise than lead the mind away from nature. this seemed one of the several lessons taught by kief, the city of pilgrimage. sketchers of character and costume will find excellent studies among the pilgrims of kief. the upper and educated classes, who in russia are assimilating with their equals in other nations, and are therefore not tempting to the pencil or the brush, do not, as we have already seen, come in any numbers to these sacred shrines. it is the lower orders, who still preserve the manners and customs of their ancestors, that make these church festivals so attractive to the artist. the variety of races brought together from afar--a diversity only possibly within an empire, like russia, made up of heterogeneous materials--might serve not only to fill a portfolio, but to illustrate a volume; the ethnologist equally with the painter would find at the time of great festivities curious specimens of humanity. i remember some years ago to have met with the french artist, m. théodore valerio, when he had brought home the _album ethnographique_ from hungary, croatia, and the more distant borders of the danube. it was quite refreshing, after the infinite number of costume-studies i had seen from italian peasantry, to find that art had the possibility of an entirely new sphere among the sclavonic races. a like field for any painter of enterprise is now open in russia. the large and famous composition, _the butter week (carnival) in st. petersburg_, by c. makowski, may serve to indicate the hitherto undeveloped pictorial resources of the empire. when the conditions are new there is a possibility that the art may be new also. the ethnology, the physical geography, the climate, the religion, the products of the animal and vegetable kingdoms, so far as they are peculiar to russia, will some day become reflected into the national art. it is true that the painter may occasionally feel a want of colour, the costumes of the peasant are apt to be dull and heavy, yet not unfrequently rags and tatters bring compensation by picturesque outlines and paintable surface-textures. at kief, however, the traveller is sufficiently south and east to fall in with warm southern hues and oriental harmonies, broken and enriched, moreover, among the lower orders by that engrained dirt which i have usually noted as the special privilege and prerogative of pilgrims in all parts of the world. the use of soap would seem to be accounted as sacrilege on religious sentiment. what with dust, and what with sun, the wayfarers who toil up the heights leading to the holy hill have gained a colour which a murillo would delight in. the face and neck bronzed by the hot sun tell out grandly from a flowing mass of hair worthy of a patriarch. [illustration: the dnieper at kief.] beggars, who in russia are as thick about the churches as the pigeons that pick up crumbs in front of st. mark's, are almost essential to the histrionic panoramas at these places of pilgrimage. i have never seen so large or so varied a collection of professional and casual mendicants as within and about the sacred enclosures of kief. some appeared to enjoy vested rights; these privileged personages would as little endure to be driven from a favoured post as with us a sweeper at a crossing would tolerate a rival broom. several of these waiters upon charity might be termed literary beggars; their function is to read aloud from a large book in the hearing of the passers-by. they are often infirm, and occasionally blind, but they read just the same. another class may be called the incurables; in england they would be kept out of sight, but here in russia, running sores, mutilated hands and legs, are valuable as stock-in-trade. loathsome diseases are thrust forward as a threat, distorted limbs are extortionate for alms; it is a piteous sight to see; some of these sad objects are in the jaws of death, and come apparently that they may die on holy ground. another class may be called the pious beggars; they stand at the church doors; they are picturesque and apostolic; long beards and quiet bearing, with a certain professional get-up of misery and desolation, make these sacred mendicants grand after their kind. such figures are usually ranged on either side of the chief entrance; they are motionless as statues, save when in the immediate act of soliciting alms; indeed i have sometimes noticed how beggars standing before a church façade are suggestive of statuary, the want of which is so much felt in the unsculpturesque architecture of russia. pilgrims and beggars--the line of demarcation it is not always easy to define--have an oriental way of throwing themselves into easy and paintable attitudes; in fact posture plays a conspicuous part in the devotions of such people; they pray bodily almost more than mentally,--the figure and its attendant costume become instruments of worship. the cathedral of st. sophia, which dates back to the eleventh century, is of interest from its resemblance to st. mark's, venice, in the plan of the greek cross, in the use of domes and galleries, and in the introduction of mosaics as surface-decorations. i saw the galleries full of fashionable worshippers; the galleries in st. mark's on the contrary, are always empty and useless, though constructed for use. in the apse are the only old mosaics i have met with in russia; it is strange that an art which specially pertains to byzantium was not turned to more account by the greco-russian church. there is in the apse, besides, a subject composition,--a noble female figure, colossal in size, the arms upraised in attitude of prayer, the drapery cast broadly and symmetrically. in the same interior are associated with mosaics, frescoes, or rather wall-paintings in _secco_. on the columns which support the cupola are frescoes which, though of no art value, naturally excited curiosity when they were discovered some few years since, after having been hid for two or more centuries by a covering of whitewash. some other wall-pictures are essentially modern, and others have been restored, after russian usage, in so reckless and wholesale a fashion as to be no longer of value as archæologic records. in the staircase leading to the galleries are some further wall-paintings, said to be contemporaneous with the building of the cathedral; the date, however, is wholly uncertain. these anomalous compositions represent a boar-hunt and other sports, with groups of musicians, dancers, and jugglers, intervening. in accord with the secular character of the subjects is the rude naturalism of the style. positive knowledge as to date being wanting, it is impossible to speak of these works otherwise than to say that they cannot be of byzantine origin. if of real antiquity they will have to join company with other semi-barbaric products in metal, etc., which prove, as we have seen, that russia has two historic schools, the byzantine, on the one hand, debilitated and refined, as of periods of decline, and, on the other, a non-byzantine and barbarous style, strong and coarse as of races still vital and vigorous. a like conflict is found in the north of italy between the byzantine and the lombard manner; and even in england the west front of wells cathedral presents the same unresolved contradictions. it would seem that over the greater part of europe, eastern as well as western, these two hostile arts were practiced contemporaneously; at all events the same buildings are found to display the two opposite styles. it would appear probable, however, that the respective artists or artisans belonged to at least two distinct nationalities. the pecherskoi monastery, or kievo-pecherskaya lavra, at kief, the kremlin in moscow, and the grand monastery of troitza, have this in common, that the situation is commanding, the site elevated. also, these three venerable sanctuaries are strongholds, for though the holy places at kief are not on all sides fortified, yet the approach from the old city, which is the most accessible, lies along bastions and walls. in fact, here we have again a semblance to the ancient idea of a church, a citadel, and a palace united, as in an acropolis--the church and the state being one; the arm of the flesh sustaining the sword of the spirit,--a condition of things which has always given to the world its noblest art. the walk to this most ancient monastery in russia passes pleasantly by the side of a wood; then opens a view of the vast plain beneath, intersected by the river dnieper, over which is flung the great suspension-bridge built by the english engineer, charles vignolles, at the cost of £ , . the immediate approach is lined with open shops or stalls for the sale of sacred pictures, engravings of saints, and other articles which pilgrims love to carry back to their homes. within the enclosure trees throw a cool shade, under which, as in the courtyards of mosques in constantinople, the hot and weary may repose. the cathedral dedicated to the ascension of the virgin, has not the slightest pretence to external architecture. the walls are mostly whitewashed, and some of the windows have common square heads crowned by mean pediments; the intervening pilasters and floral decorations in relief, and all in the midst of whitewash, are of the poorest character. the seven gilded cupolas or domes may be compared to inverted cups surmounted by crosses. the form resembles the cup commonly combined in the fantastic towers and spires of protestant churches in germany, where, however, it has been supposed to signify that the laity partake of the chalice. these domes are made further decorative at the point of the small circular neck which connects the cupola with the upper member or finial; around this surface is painted a continuous series of single saints standing; the effect of these pictures against the sky, if not quite artistic, is striking. other parts of the exterior may indicate italian rather than oriental origin, but the style is far too mongrel to boast of any legitimate parentage. here, as in the kremlin, are external wall-paintings of saints, some standing on solid ground, others sitting among clouds; the madonna is of course of the company, and the first and second persons of the trinity crown the composition. the ideas are trite and the treatment is contemptible--the colours pass from dirty red into brown and black. these certainly are the worst wall-paintings i have ever met with, worse even than the coarsest painted shrines on the waysides of italy; indeed no church save the greek church would tolerate an art thus debased. a year after my journey to kief i travelled through the tyrol on my way from the ammergau passion play. the whole of this district abounds in frescoes, many being on the external walls of private dwellings. this village art of the bavarian highlands, though often the handiwork of simple artisans, puts to shame both the external and the internal wall-paintings at kief, troitza, and the kremlin. yet this contrast between russia and southern nations does not arise so much from the higher ability of the artists, as from the superiority of the one school to the other school. the pictorial arts fostered by the western church are fundamentally true, while the arts which the eastern church has patronized and petrified are essentially false and effete. the scene which strikes the eye on entering this parti-coloured cathedral of the assumption, though strange, is highly picturesque. to this holy shrine are brought the halt, the lame, and the blind, as to the moving of the waters. some press forward to kiss the foot of a crucifix, others bow the head and kiss the ground, a servile attitude of worship, which in the greco-russian church has been borrowed from the mohammedans. the groups which throng the narrow, crowded floor, are wonderfully effective; an artist with sketch-book in hand would have many a good chance of catching graphic heads and costumes, and all the more easily because these pilgrims are not so lively as lethargic. still, for grand scenic impression, i have never in russia witnessed any church function so striking as the piazza in front of st. peter's on easter day, when all rome flocks to receive the pope's blessing from the balcony. yet the whole interior of this cathedral is itself a picture, or rather a countless succession of pictures; as to the architecture there is not the minutest space that has not been emblazoned by aid of a paint-pot. but the greatest marvel in this cathedral of the assumption is the iconostas, or screen for the sacred pictures, a structure indispensable to all russian churches, of which i have withheld the description till now, when i find myself in front of a large and more astounding erection than can be found in st. petersburg, moscow, or troitza. in small churches these sacred placards, bearing the character of drop-scenes, are apt to be paltry, indeed the irreverent stranger may even be reminded of painted caravans at village fairs. but in large cathedrals the screen which stands between the people in the nave and the priests in the holy of holies, presents a vast façade, upon which are ranged, in three, four, or five stories, a multitude of sacred pictures covered with gold and decked with jewels. these elaborate contrivances correspond to the reredos in western churches, only with this important difference, that they are not behind the holy place but in front of it. they might, perhaps, with more correctness be compared to the rood-screens which in our churches stand between the altar and the people. the sacred screen now before me mounts its head into the dome, and presents an imposing and even an architectonic aspect, but certain details, such as classic mouldings of columns, and a broken entablature, pronounce the edifice to be comparatively modern. the summit is fitly crowned by a crucifix, almost in the flat, in order not to evade the law of the russian church, which prohibits statues in the round; the figure of christ is silver, the cross and the drapery of gold or silver-gilt. on either side of the crucifix stand in their prescriptive stations the madonna and st. john. on the story beneath comes the entombment, all covered with gold and silver, in a low-relief which indicates the forms of the figures beneath; the heads, which are not in relief but merely pictorial, are the only portions of the picture actually visible. these altar-screens, which in russia are counted not by tens but by hundreds and thousands, are highly ornate. silver and gold and jewellery are conjoined with painting after the nursery and doll-like fashion approved in the south of spain and at naples. only in the most corrupt of roman catholic capitals does ecclesiastical art assume the childish forms common in russia. resuming the description of the above altar-screen, we find next in range below the entombment a large composition, comprising god the father surrounded by cherubs, with two full-grown seraphs, encircled by six gold wings, standing on either side. again, the only parts of the picture permitted to be seen are the heads, crossed hands, black legs and feet. christ with the open book of judgment is another conspicuous figure; also a companion head, gigantic in size, is the madonna, directly byzantine in type, though its smooth and well-kept surface gives little sign of age. the christ, too, must be accounted but as modernized byzantine; here is none of the severity or of the tenuity of the early periods. the type is poor though refined, debilitated though ideal. the hair, parted on the forehead, falls thickly on the shoulders. the face is youthful, not more than thirty, and without a wrinkle; the cheeks are a little flushed, the prevailing expression is placidity. the accessories of glory, drapery, and open book are highly decorative; here embossed patterns on the gold coverings enhance the richness of the surface-ornament. once again the russians appear supreme in metal-work, especially in the elaboration of decoration in the flat. most of the pictures above mentioned are evidently supremely holy; they are black and highly gilded; moreover, they move most deeply all sorts and conditions of men, women, and children. i may here again mention that one purpose of my russian journey was to discover whether there were heads of christ in the possession of the russian church older or nobler than the ivory carvings, the frescoes, or easel pictures which are found in italy and other southern or western nations. and i was, i confess, disappointed not to meet with any data which could materially enlarge or enrich this most interesting of subjects. as to priority of date, it seems to be entirely on the side of the roman catacombs and the latin church; moreover, in russia, as i before frequently remarked, chronology is untrustworthy, inasmuch as comparatively modern works assume and parody the style of the most ancient. the heads of christ in russia, one of which has been just described, are, as already said, more or less servile reproductions of byzantine types. still the typical form is found under varying phases; the general tendency in these replicas of anterior originals would appear to be towards the mitigation of the asperities in the confirmed byzantine formulas. thus the more recent heads of the saviour in the churches of st. petersburg, moscow, troitza and kief, assume a certain modern manner, and occasionally wear a smooth, pretty and ornamental aspect. in these variations on the prescriptive eastern type, the hair usually flows down upon the shoulders, as with the greek and russian priests in the present day. as to the beard, it is thick and full, or short and scant, but the cheeks are left uncovered, and show an elongated face and chin. these russian heads of the saviour in softening down the severe and aged type common to byzantium, assume a physiognomy not sufficiently intellectual for the greatest of teachers. these "images" in fact inspire little reverence except with blind worshippers; they are mostly wrought up and renovated, so as to fulfil the preconceived conditions of sanctity: undefined generality, weakness, smoothness, and blackness, are the common characteristics of these supposititious heads of the saviour. it will thus again be easily understood how opposite has been the practice of the eastern and western churches; it is a striking fact that at the time when, in italy, under leonardo da vinci, raphael and others, the mystery of a god manifest in the flesh had been as it were solved by a perfected art, this russian church was still under bondage to the once accepted but now discarded notion that the redeemer ought to be represented as one who had no form or comeliness. art in the western world gained access to the beautiful, the perfect, and the divine, as soon as it was permitted to the painter or the sculptor to develop to uttermost perfection the idea of the man-god. all such conceptions of the infinite, whether it be that of jupiter in pagan periods, or of christ under our divine dispensation, have always been the life and inspiration of the arts. but in russia ignoble heads of christ convinced me that such life and inspiration were denied. and i look upon the head of christ as the turning point in the christian art of a nation. if that head be conceived of unworthily there is no possibility that prophets, apostles, martyrs, shall receive their due. [illustration: la lavra, kief.] _nijni-novgorod_ _antonio gallenga_ nijni-novgorod, or lower new-town, is older than moscow, and only not so old as novgorod the great, which was a contemporary of venice, and was still new when the semi-fabulaus ruric and his varangians are supposed to have given their name to russia. nijni-novgorod, which everybody here calls simply "nijni," dates from ; and mention of its fair occurs, we are told, in , since which epoch its celebration has suffered very rare and only violent interruption. to understand why this venerable spot should have been for so many years, and should be still, so extensively favoured by the world's trade, it is hardly necessary to see it. we only need bear in mind that nijni lies near the confluence of the oka and the volga, two of the greatest rivers of this russia which alone of all countries of europe may be said to have great rivers; the volga having a course of , miles, and the oka, a mere tributary, of miles. it is the position which the saöne and the rhone have made for lyons; the position for which st. louis is indebted to the mississippi and missouri; the position which corientes will soon owe to the parana and the paraguay. nijni lies at the very centre of that water communication which joins the caspian and the black sea to the white sea and the baltic, and which, were it always summer, might almost have enabled russia to dispense with roads and railroads. but nijni is, besides, the terminus of the railway from moscow. that line places this town and its fair in communication with all the lines of russia and the western world, while the volga, with its tributary, the kama, leads to perm, and the pass of the ural mountains, and the vast regions of siberia and central asia. nijni-novgorod is thus one of the most important links between the two great continents, the point of contact between asiatic wealth and european industry; and its fair the best meeting-place for the interchange of commodities between the nations that still walk, ride, or row at the rate of three to five miles an hour, and those who fly on the wings of steam at the rate of thirty to fifty. the site of nijni is somewhat like what i still remember of st. louis after a seventeen years' interval. we travelled from moscow over a distance of miles in thirteen hours. for the last hour or two before we reached our journey's end, we had on our right the river oka and a hilly ridge rising all along it and forming its southern bank. on alighting at the station we drove through a flat, marshy ground, intersected by broad canals, to a triangular space between the oka and the volga at their confluence, where the fair is held. we went through the maze of bazaars and market buildings, of rows of booths, shops and stalls, eating and drinking sheds, warehouses and counting-houses. we struggled through long lines of heavy-laden country carts, and swarms of clattering _droskies_, all striving to force their way along with that hurry-skurry that adds to confusion and lessens speed; and we came at last to a long pontoon bridge, over which we crossed the oka, and beyond which rises the hill-range or ravine, on the top and at the foot of which is built the straggling town of nijni-novgorod. nijni-novgorod is a town of , inhabitants, and, like most russian towns, it occupies a space which could accommodate half a million of people. like many old russian towns, also, it is laid out on the pattern of moscow, as far as its situation allowed; and, to keep up the resemblance, it boasts a kremlin of its own, a grim, struggling citadel with battlemented walls and mediæval towers over its gates, with its scores of byzantine churches, most of them with their five cupolas _de rigueur_, clustering together like a bunch of radishes--one big radish between four little radishes--but not as liberally covered with gilding as those which glisten on the top of sacred buildings in st. petersburg or moscow; down the slopes and ravines are woods and gardens, with coffee-houses and eating-houses, and other places of popular entertainment. it is a town to be admired on the outside and at a distance as a picture, but most objectionable as a residence on account of its marvellous distances and murderous pavement, a stroll on which reminds you of the martyrdom of those holy pilgrims who, to give glory to god, walked with dry peas in their shoes. the pavements are bad in nijni town, but worse in nijni fair, for if in the former all is hard, sharp, uneven flint, in the latter, what is not wood is mud, and what is not mud is dust, for heavy showers alternate with stifling heat; and, after a three hours' drought one would say that these good people, who live half in and half out of a swamp, and who drink anything rather than water, can never spare a poor drop to slake the pulverized clay of their much trodden thoroughfares. with all these drawbacks, however, and even with the addition of its villainous smells, this is an interesting and striking spot. no place can boast of a more sublime view than one can get here from the imperial palace and terrace, or from the church-domes or spires on the kremlin; or, even better, from the esplanade of mouravief's folly--a tower erected by the well-known general of that name on the highest and foremost ravine, and on the summit of which he had planned to place a fac-simile of the famous strassburg clock, but constructed on so gigantic a scale that hours and minutes, the moon's phases, the planets' cycles and all besides, should be distinctly visible from every locality of the town and fair for miles and miles around. from any of those vantage-grounds on the hill look down. the town is at your feet; the fair--a city, a babylon of shops--stretches beyond the bridge; the plain, a boundless ocean of green, field and forest, dotted here and there with church-spires and factory-shafts at prodigious distances; and the two broad rivers, bearing the tribute of remote regions from north and south in numberless boats and lighters, and neat gallant steamers; the two streams meeting here at right angles just below the pontoon-bridge where an immense five-domed church of recent construction has been reared to mark and hallow the spot. down at the fair, in the centre of its hubbub, rises the governor's summer-place. the governor dwells there with his family during the few weeks of the fair (mid-august to mid-september), coming down hither from the imperial palace in the town kremlin, and occupying the upper floor. the whole basement, the entrance-hall, and all passages--with the exception of a narrow, private, winding staircase--are invaded by the crowd and converted into a bazaar, the noisiest in the fair, where there is incessant life and movement, and music and hurly-burly at every hour between noon and night--a lively scene upon which his excellency and his guests and friends look down from the balcony after their five o'clock dinner, smoking their cigarettes, and watching the policemen as they pounce like trained hawks on the unwary pick-pockets prowling among the crowd. of this immense mass of strangers now in nijni, the town itself, and especially the upper town, sees and hears but little. the fair has its own ground, on its own side of the bridge, its own hotels and lodging-houses, its own churches, chapels, theatres, eating, gambling, and other houses, its long straight streets and boulevards, and pleasure as well as business resorts. it has its fine chinese row, though chinamen have lately discontinued their attendance; it has rich traders' temporary homes, fitted up with comfort, and even taste and luxury; and it has its charity dormitory, a vast wooden shed, built by court ignatieff, and bearing his name, intended to accommodate houseless vagrants, but alas! in a place where there must be , , if not , persons answering that description. of women coming to this market the number is comparatively small--one, i should say, for every men; of ladies not one in , , or , . of those who muster sufficiently strong at the evening promenade on the boulevard, indigenous or resident, for the most part, rather the look than the number is formidable; and it is here in nijni, as it is generally in russia, that a mussulman becomes convinced of the wisdom of his arabian prophet, who invented the yashmak as man's best protection, and hallowed it; for of the charms of most russian women, blessed are those who believe without seeing! in working hours only men and beasts are to be seen--a jumble and scramble of men and beasts: car-loads of goods; piles of hogsheads, barrels, bales, boxes, and bundles, merchandise of all kinds, of every shape, colour, or smell, all lying in a mass topsy-turvy, higgledy-piggledy; the thoroughfares blocked up, the foot-paths encumbered; chaos and noise all-pervading; and yet, by degrees, almost imperceptibly, you will see everything going its way, finding its own place; for every branch of trade has, or was at least intended to have, here its appointed abode; and there are tea rows; silversmiths and calico streets; fur lanes; soap, candle, and caviare alleys; photograph, holy images, and priestly vestments bazaars; boot, slop, tag and rag marts and depositories--all in their compartments, kin with kin, and like with like; and everything is made to clear out of the way, and all is smoothed down; all subsides into order and rule, and not very late at night--quiet. the tartars do the most of the work. they are the descendants of the old warriors of genghis khan and timour the lame, of the ruthless savages who for years overran all russia, spreading death and desolation wherever their coursers' hoofs trod, making slaves of the people, and tributary vassals of their princes; but, who by their short-sighted policy favoured the rise of that dynasty of moscow grand princes, who presently became strong enough to extend their sway both over russ and tartar. the great merchants of moscow and st. petersburg or their representatives and partners come here for a few days, partners and clerks taking up the task by turns, according as business allows them absence from their chief establishments. they bring here no goods, but merely samples of goods--tea, cotton, woollen and linen tissues, silk, cutlery, jewellery, and generally all articles of european (home russian) manufacture. they have most of them good apartments in the upper floors of their warehouses; they see their customers, mostly provincial retail dealers; they show their samples, drive their bargains, receive orders, attend on 'change (for they have a _bourse_ at the fair, near the bridge), smoke indoors (for in the streets that indulgence is forbidden all over the fair for fear of fire), lunch or dine together often by mutual invitation. they are gentlemenly men, young men for the most part (for their elders are at home minding the main business), young russians or russified germans, some of whom adopt and even affect and exaggerate russian feeling and habits; young men to whom it seems to be a principle that easy-made money should be readily spent; leisurely, business young men, who sit up late and get up later, take the world and its work and pleasure at their ease; understand little and care even less about politics; profess to be neither great readers nor great thinkers; but are, as a rule, free-handed, hospitable, sociable, most amiable, and anything rather than unintelligent men. of all the articles of trade which come to court public favour in nijni, the most important and valuable is tea; and although the moscow merchants, by the excellence of their sea-faring tea, chiefly imported from odessa or through england, have almost entirely driven from the market the caravan tea, still about one-tenth of the enormous quantity of tea sold here is grown in the north of china, and comes overland from kiakhta, the city on the border between the asiatic-russian and the celestial empire. i was curious to compare the taste of some of the very best qualities of both kinds, and was brought to the conclusion, confirmed by the opinion of gentlemen interested in the sale of sea-faring tea, that, although some of their own is more high-flavoured and stronger, there is in the kiakhta tea an exquisite delicacy, which will always receive in its favour a higher price. the difference, i am told, mainly arises from the fact that the caravan tea, exposed to the air during its twelve months' journey in loose and clumsy and much-shaken paper and sheep-skin bundles, gets rid of the tannin and other gross substances, a process of purification which cannot be effected in the necessarily sealed and hermetically-closed boxes in which it reaches europe by the sea-route; so that if sea-faring tea, like port-wine, easily recommends itself to the taste and nerves of a strong, hard-working man, a dainty, refined lady will give preference to a cup of kiakhta tea, as she would to a glass of château yquem. the interest of a european, however, would be chiefly attracted by what is less familiar in his own part of the world; and, short of an actual journey to the remote regions of siberia and central asia, nothing is calculated to give him a more extensive idea of the produce of those trans-uralian russian possessions than a survey of the goods they send here for sale. what astonishes a stranger at first sight is the quantity. you may walk for hours along yards and sheds, the repositories of iron from siberia. you pass hundreds of shops of malachite and lapis-lazuli, and a variety of gold and silver work and precious stones from the caucasus, cut with all the minute diligence of asiatic skill. you will see turkish carpets, persian silks, and above all things the famous orenburg shawls, so finely knitted, and with such patience that one can (they say, but i have not made the experiment), be made to pass through a lady's ring, though they be so broad on all sides as to wrap the lady all around from head to foot. one may, besides, have his choice of hundreds and thousands of those delightful curiosities and knickknacks, recommendable less for their quaintness than for the certainty one feels that there is no possible use in the world they may be put to. there is no novelty at nijni; no new shape, pattern, or colour just coming out to catch popular favour; no unknown mechanical contrivance; no discovery likely to affect human progress and brought here for the entertainment of the intelligent, un-commercial visitor. there are only the shop-keeper and his customer, though it is a wholesale shop and on a very large scale. the fair, moreover, has not the duration that is generally allowed for an exhibition. [illustration: nijni-novgorod (bridge of the fair).] though officially opened on the th of july, the fair does not begin in good earnest till the th of august; and it reaches its height on the th, when accounts are settled, and payments ensue; after which, goods are removed, and the grounds cleared; only a portion of the business lingering throughout september. about half a score of days, out of the two months during which the fair is held, are all that may have attraction for the generality of strangers. and although many come from all parts of russia, and from foreign countries, i do not think they tarry here for pleasure beyond two or three days. it would be interesting to anticipate what change a few weeks will effect in this scene which is now so full of life, bustle, and gaiety; this stage, where so great a variety of human beings from nearly all regions of the world, with their money or money's worth, with their hopes and fears, their greed and extravagance, all their good and evil instincts and faculties at play. in a few weeks the flags will be furled, the tents struck; the pontoon-bridge removed; the shops closed; hotels, bazaars, and churches, all private and public edifices, utterly deserted and silent; and every house stripped of the last stick of valuable furniture; every door locked, barred, and sealed; the place left to take care of itself. for autumn rains and spring thaws must set in, when the seven or eight square miles of the ground of the fair, as well as the country to an immense extent, will be under water. _the volga basin_ _the great river--kasan, tsaritzin--astrakhan_ _antonio gallenga_ it is hardly possible to travel on the volga without falling in love with the great river at first sight. the range of low hills which we had on our right as we descended the oka continued now on the same side as we came down the volga. the volga, however, has nothing of the wild, erratic instincts of its tributary. it is a grand, calm, dignified stream, keeping to its course as a respectable matron, and gliding down in placid loveliness, without weir or leap, fall or rapids, or break of any kind--a fine, broad, almost unrippled sheet of water, with an even, steady, and grandly monotonous flow, like that of the stanzas of tasso. its width, so far as eye can judge, does not greatly exceed that of the thames at gravesend, but it is always the same from the bridge at twer above moscow to the only other bridge, one mile in length, between syzran and samara; everywhere the same "full bumper" for a run of , english miles. though the volga is numbered among the european rivers, and has its sources on the valdaï hills between the european cities, st. petersburg and moscow, it is a frontier stream, and seemed intended to form the natural line of demarcation between two parts of the world--between two worlds. up to the middle of the sixteenth century, kasan was the advanced guard of the tartar hordes. these wandering tribes, which, profiting by dissensions among the russian princes, overcame and overran all russia, weakened in their turn by division, fell back from the main part of the invaded territory, but still held for some time their own on the volga, from kasan to astrakhan, till they were utterly routed and brought under russian sway by ivan the terrible. even then, however, though their strength was broken, their spirit was untamed. the men of high warrior caste who survived their defeat sought a refuge among their kindred tribes further east, at samarkand, bokhara, and khiva, where the russians have now overtaken them; but a large part of the mere multitude laid aside without giving up their arms, passively accepted without formally acknowledging the tsar's sway, and abided in their tents,--swallowed at once, but very leisurely digested, by the all-absorbing russian civilization. large bodies of the nation, however, migrated _en masse_ from time to time, the lands they left vacant being rapidly filled up by bands of cossacks, and by foreign (chiefly german), colonists. for more than three centuries, though already mistress of siberia and victorious in remote asia, russia proper might be considered as ending at the volga; so that most of the older and most important towns south of kasan and north of astrakhan, such as simbirsk, syzran, volsk, saratof, kamyshin, and tsaritzin, lie on the right, or russo-european bank of the stream. tsaritzin is at the head of the delta of the volga, and it lies versts above astrakhan, which is said to be at the river's mouth, but which is still versts from the roadstead or anchorage, called the nine feet station; the spot on the caspian where sea navigation really begins. at tsaritzin we might have fancied ourselves in some brand-new town in one of the remote backwoods of america. it was nothing of a place before the railway reached it. no one can foretell what it may become before the locomotive travels past it. for under present circumstances all the postal service, the light goods and time-saving passenger traffic from all parts of russia to astrakhan, the caspian and the trans-caspian region, or _vice versâ_, must pass between the tsaritzin pier on the volga and the platforms of the tsaritzin railway station. we did not see much of the upstart town, for the horrible clouds of thick, dung-impregnated dust would not allow us to keep our eyes open. but we perceived that almost every trace of what was once little better than a second rate fortress and a village was obliterated; the old inhabitants were nowhere, and a bustling set of new settlers were sharing the broad area among themselves, taking as much of it as suited their immediate wants, and extending it to the utmost limits of their sanguine expectations; drawing lines of streets at great distances, tracing the sides of broad squares and crescents, and laying the foundations of what would rise in time into shops and houses, hotels, bazaars, theatres and churches. tzaritzin when we saw it was merely the embryo of a city. those that may visit it a score of years hence will tell us what they find it. two more nights and a day down the sluggish waters of the main channel of the volga landed us on the tenth day after our departure from nijni-novgorod, at astrakhan, where we stayed a whole week. from tsaritzin to astrakhan the volga flows through the steppe, the great asiatic grass desert extending from the caucasus to the frontier of china. the wild tenants of this wilderness, the various tribes of tartars, once the terror of east and west, were like a vast ocean of human beings swayed to and fro by nomadic and predatory instincts, which for centuries threatened to overwhelm and efface every vestige of the world's civilization. the russians who were first invested and overpowered by the flood, were able by the valour and more by the craft of their princes, first to stem the tide, then to force it back, and in the end to rear such bulwarks as might for ever baffle its fury, and prevent its further onset. such bulwarks were once the strong places of kasan and astrakhan, the former seats of tartar hordes, which the tsars of moscow made their bases of operations for the indefinite extension of their civilized empire over tartar barbarism. for the experience of centuries had proved that the steppe was not everywhere and altogether an irreclaimable land, nor the tartars an utterly untameable race. astrakhan, like kasan, is a russian town, of whose , inhabitants one-fourth or one-fifth at least are tamed tartars, and the sands around which can be made to yield grapes and peaches, and a profusion of melons and watermelons. beyond the immediate neighbourhood, over the whole province or "government" of astrakhan, stretches the vast land of the steppe, the wide and thin pasture-grounds on which the tartar tribes roam at will with their flocks; a pastoral set of men; without fixed homes, and, in our sense of the word, without laws; and yet perfectly harmless and peaceful--exempt, at least till very lately, from military service, and only paying a tribute of , roubles, at so much a head for each horse, ox, or camel, ranging over an extent of , , dessiatines ( , , acres) of land, an area of , kilometers, or about half of that of france, with a population, including that of the capital, of , inhabitants. astrakhan is a modern town, with the usual broad, straight streets, most of them boasting no other pavement than sand, with brick side-walks, much worn and dilapidated, and, like those of buenos ayres and many other american cities, so raised above the roadway as to require great attention from those who do not wish to run the risk of broken shins. the town has its own kremlin, apart from the citadel. the kremlin is a kind of cathedral-close, with the cathedral and the archbishop's palace, and several monasteries and priests' habitations. the whole town, besides, and the environs, as usual in russia, muster more churches than they can number priests or worshippers. in a walk of two or three miles i took outside the town and as far as the cemeteries, i had a scattered group of at least half a score of churches all around me, but there was scarcely a human habitation within sight. the governor's palace is a low building over a row of shops in the main square of the city. the square itself and the thoroughfares were enveloped in thick clouds of blinding dust, almost as troublesome as that of tsaritzin; but on the whole, the place is less unclean than one might expect from a population made up of russians, tartars, calmucks, persians, armenians and jews. the volga and the hundred channels which constitute its delta, and the northern shores of the caspian sea into which they flow, yield more fish than the coasts of norway and newfoundland put together. the nets employed in catching them would, if laid side by side on the ground in all their length, extend over a line of , versts, or twice the distance from st. petersburg to tashkend and back. the annual produce of these astrakhan fisheries--sturgeon, sterlet, salmon, pike, shad, etc.--amounts to , , puds of fish (the pud thirty-six english pound weight) of the value of , , roubles, the herrings alone yielding a yearly income of , , roubles. with the exception of the caviare, which is sold all over the world, the produce of these fisheries, salted or pickled, is destined for home consumption, and travels all over the empire, although as far as i have been, i have found everywhere the waters equally well-stocked by nature with every description of fish; a provident dispensation, since the russian clergy, like the roman catholic, are indefatigable in their promotion of what they call "the apostles' trade," by their injunction of fast or fish days throughout the year. the delta of the volga and the caspian sea lie twenty-five metres below the level of the black sea. the city of astrakhan, placed on the left bank of the main channel of the delta, and, as i said, versts above its anchorage, becomes like an island in the midst of a vast sea when the volga comes down in its might with the thaw of the northern ice in late spring; and most of its lowest wards would be overwhelmed were it not for the dikes that encompass it like a town in holland. the eight principal branches and the hundred minor channels and outlets of the delta, breaking up the land into a labyrinth of hundreds of islets, are then blended together in one watery surface, out of which only the crests of these islets emerge with isolated villages, with log-huts and long whitewashed buildings, and high-domed churches, all dammed and diked up like the town itself--tartar villages, calmuck villages, cossack villages, all or most of them fishers' homes and fishing establishments--a population of , to , souls being thus scattered on the bare sand-hills and dunes; men of all race, colour, and faith, all employed in the same fishing pursuit; the tartars and calmucks usually as rank and file, the russians and other europeans as overseers, foremen, and skilled labourers. from astrakhan, the queen of the steppes, to tiflis the queen of the caucasus, we had a choice of routes. tourists from england, or from any part of western europe, may easily visit the great mountain-chain on which prometheus was found, by crossing the black sea from constantinople or from odessa, and landing at poti, where the russians have constructed a railway to tiflis, once the capital of georgia, now the residence of the governor-general of the whole caucasus region. a traveller from the north, bound to the same goal, can take the train at moscow, and come down by rail, _via_ rostov-on-the-don, all the way to vladikavkas, a distance of , versts; and about additional versts, by post, over a good military road, and across the main caucasian chain, will bring him from vladikavkas to tiflis. but we had descended the volga, and were now near its mouth. we had to go down the volga to the nine feet station below astrakhan, embark there on the caspian sea, and cross over either to baku, whence we could go by post round the mountain-chain at its southern extremity as far as tiflis; or land at petrofsk, and travel along the chain to vladikavkas and the good military road across the chain to tiflis. we gave our preference to the last-named route. we left astrakhan at ten in the evening on board a heavy barge belonging to the caucasus and mercury steam-navigation company, towed by a tug down stream at the rate of five or six miles an hour. we were all that afternoon and night, and part of the following day, descending the main channel of the volga, and it was past noon before we reached the nine feet station, for so they call the roadstead above which vessels of more than nine feet draught dare not venture. all sight of land, of the seventy larger islands of the delta, and even of the minor islets, and of the lowest sand-banks, had been lost for several hours, and we were here in the open sea, though scarcely beyond the boundary that the creator has elsewhere fixed between land and water. for the station which, if i can allow myself an apparent irishism, is a moveable one, has to be pushed forward almost day by day as the sands of the volga silt up far beyond the choked-up lands of the delta, encroaching with a steady inroad on the depths of the waves; the steppe everywhere widening as the sea dwindles, and suggesting the thought that the whole region that is now steppe must in remote ages have been sea, and that whatever is now sea, must in time become steppe. indeed, it seems not impossible to calculate how many years or centuries it may take for the sands of the volga, aided by those of the ural and the emba on the eastern, and of the kuma, the terek, and the kur or kura, with its tributary the aras, on the western shore, to fill up the land-locked caspian, though its extreme depth, according to the gazetteers, is feet, and the area covered by it probably exceeds , square miles, a surface as large as that of spain. kasan, once the residence of a redoubted horde, was probably, under tartar sway, in a great measure a mere encampment, chiefly a city of tents; for whatever the guide-books may say, there is no positive evidence of its present buildings belonging to a date anterior to the russian conquest. its situation probably recommended itself to the tartars chiefly on the score of strength; for although it stands high above the river, its present distance from it is at least three miles, and it is surrounded by a sandy and marshy plain, intersected by the channels of the kasana river, erratic water-courses which may have proved sufficient obstacles to the onset of an invader, but which raise no less serious hindrances to the conveyance of goods from the landing-place to the town; an inconvenience hitherto not removed by the tramway, as it as yet only carries passengers. kasan is on the main line of communication between central russia and siberia. the travellers bound to that bourne embark here on steamers that go down the volga as far as its confluence with the kama, a tributary stream, and thence ascend the kama, which is navigable all the way to perm. from perm a railway runs up to the pass of the ural mountains to ekaterinenburg, probably to be in course of time continued to tiumen, tobolsk, tomsk, irkutsk, the baikal lake, the chinese frontier at kiakhta, the banks of the amoor, and the shores of the pacific ocean. along this route it is calculated that some £ , , worth of merchandise are brought yearly from siberia down the kama and up the volga to the nijni-novgorod fair. kasan is a highly flourishing city. it has a population of , to , inhabitants, one-fourth of whom are tartars. these descendants of the old nomad race are now here at home, and live in the city perfectly at peace with their russian fellow-subjects, though being mahometans, they have distinct, if not separate, quarters, and mosques and a burial-ground of their own. it would seem impossible for two races which have so little reason for mutual good-will, to show so little disposition to quarrel. but it should be remembered that sclav and tartar were not in former times so far asunder in manners, in language, in polish, nor so free from admixture in blood as the russians fondly believe. the town has its kremlin, on the site of the old citadel, with its cathedral and other churches, and several "telescope towers," if they may be so called, built on several stories, dwindling in size from floor to floor as they rise one above the other, so that one can conceive how they might easily sink into one another and shut up like a spy-glass. the great brick tower of pier crescenzi in rome is such a tower; and here are many in the same style at moscow and in most other old russian cities. kasan has several public edifices of some pretension: the admiralty; the university--one of the seven of the empire, etc. but we had enough of it all after two or three hours, and were glad to shun the heat of the rest of the day in the cool sitting-room of commonen's hotel, which alone may be taken as a voucher for the high degree of civilization reached by kasan. we gave even less time to the other cities of the volga, not thinking it always worth while to alight at all the stations, though the steamer stopped at some of these for many a long, weary hour. with the exception of kasan, samara, and astrakhan, the most important cities are, as i said, on the right or russian bank of the river; and three of them, syzran, saratof, and tsaritzin, are connected by various railways with moscow and all the other important centres of life in the empire. the volga, which between nijni-novgorod and kasan flows in an almost straight easterly direction, takes a turn to the southward after leaving kasan and the confluence of the kama; but it makes a loop below simbirsk, turning eastward to samara, and again west to syzran, after which it resumes its southerly course to saratof, tsaritzin, and astrakhan. the railway from moscow to syzran, upon reaching syzran, crosses the volga on an iron bridge, one verst and a half, or one english mile, in length, and high enough to allow the largest steamer pass without lowering its funnel--a masterpiece of engineering greatly admired by the people here, who describe it as the longest bridge in russia and in the world. we went under it at midnight by a dim moonlight which barely allowed us to see it looming in the distance not much bigger than a telegraph-wire drawn all across the valley, the gossamer line of the bridge and all the landscape round striking us as dreamlike and unreal. after crossing the river the railway proceeds to samara, and hence versts further to orenburg, a large and thriving place on the ural river, the spot from which the straightest and probably the shortest way is, or will be, open to all parts of siberia or central asia; preferable, i should think, to that of perm and ekaterinenburg above-mentioned, which is now the most frequented route. beyond syzran and samara the river scenery, which has hitherto been verdant, assumes a southerly aspect; the hill-sides sloping to the river have a parched and faded brown look; the hill-tops are bared and seamed with chalky ravines; every trace of the forests has disappeared; and it is only at rare intervals that the banks are clad with the verdure of the new growth. [illustration: from the ramparts of the kremlin nijni-novgorod.] from nijni to tsaritzin we have stopped at more than thirty different stations, and no pen could describe the stir and bustle of goods and passengers that awaited us at every wharf and pier. several of these stations are towns of , to , inhabitants, and, besides their corn trade and tobacco, they all deal in some articles of necessity or luxury, of which they produce enough for their own, if not always for their neighbours', consumption. everywhere one sees huge buildings--steam flour-mills, tobacco-factories, salt-mines, soap and candle factories, tanneries--and last, not least, palaces for the sale of _koumiss_ or fermented mare's milk, a sanitary beverage; and extensive establishments, especially near samara, for the _koumiss_ cure,--fashionable resorts as watering-places, frequented by persons affected by consumption, and other real or imaginary ailments. there is something appalling in the thought that all this busy, and, on the whole, merry life on the banks of the volga must come to a dead stand-still for six or seven months in the year. i have been vainly taxing my brain to guess what may become of the captains, mates and crews of the steamers, and of the , heavy barges with which the river is now swarming; of the porters, agents, clerks, and other officials at the various stations; of the thousands of women employed to carry all the firewood from the piers to the steam-boats. what becomes of all these, and of the men and horses toiling at the steam-row and tow-boats on the oka, the kama, the don, the dnieper, and a hundred other rivers during the long season in which the vast plains of russia are turned into a howling wilderness of snow and ice from end to end? railway communication and sledge-driving may, by doubling their activity, afford employment to some of the men and beasts who would otherwise be doomed to passive and torpid hybernation. but much of the work that is practicable in other countries almost throughout the year--nearly all that is done in the open air--suffers here grievous interruption. what should we think in england of a six months' winter, in which the land were as hard as a rock, in which all the cattle had to be kept within doors, in which the bricklayer's trowel and the road-mender's roller had to be laid aside? and, by way of compensation, what mere human bone and muscle can stand the crushing labour by which the summer months, with their long days of twenty hours' sunlight, must make up for the winter's forced idleness; in a climate too, where, as far as my own experience goes, the heat is hardly less oppressive and stifling than in the level lands of lombardy or the emilia? _odessa_ _antonio gallenga_ from yalta to sebastopol there are two routes. one strikes across the yaïla hills to simpheropol, whence we could proceed by rail to sebastopol; the other runs along the coast, high up on the hills, to the baidar gate and through the baidar valley leading to balaclava and the other well-known spots encompassing the ruins of what was once the great naval station of the russians on the black sea. we chose the coast route, and travelled for five hours in the afternoon over forty-eight versts of the most singular road in the world. it rambles up and down along the side of the hills--as a road did once on the beautiful cornice along the ligurian riviera--midway between the upper hill crest and the sea, having on the right the mountains, a succession of wall-like, perpendicular, hoary cliffs, between , feet and , feet high, a great wall riven into every variety of fantastic shapes of bastions, towers, and pyramids, all bare and rugged, crumbling here and there into huge boulders, strewn along the slopes down to the road, across the road, and further down to the water-edge, a scene which might befit the battle-field of the titans against the gods; and on the left the wide expanse of the waters, with a coast like a fringe of little glens and creeks and headlines, and the sun's glitter on the waves like dante's "_tremolar della marina_" on the shore of purgatory. between the road and the sea far below us, in the distance, embosomed in woods still untouched by the autumn frosts, lay the marine villas of livadia, orianda, alupka, etc., very edens, where on their first annexation of the crimea the wealthy russians sought a refuge against the horrors of their wintry climate; more recently, imperial residences--livadia, the darling of the late emperor; orianda, now a mere wreck from the recent conflagration, the seat of the grand duke constantine; alupka, the abode of prince woronzoff, the son of the benevolent genius of these districts, the road-maker, the patron of yalta, the second founder of odessa. a scene of irresistible enchantment is the whole of what the russians emphatically call their "southern coast." and, as if to enhance its charm by contrast, everything changes as you pass the baidar gate, and when you have crossed the baidar valley the balmy air becomes raw and chill, the bald mountains tame and common-place, and the long descent is through an ashy-gray country, swept over by an icy blast, saddened by a lowering sky, unrelieved by a flower, a bush, or a cottage. so marvellous is the power of mere position, so great the difference between the two sides of the same mountain-wall! you pass at once from a garden to a steppe. away from these sheltering rocks, away from the southern slopes of the caucasian ridges, you are in russia. the only mountains throughout all the rest of the tsar's european territories are the urals, which nowhere reach even the heights of the apennines, which do not form everywhere a continuous chain, and which run in almost a straight line from north to south. from the icy pole the wind sweeping over the frozen ocean and the snowy wastes of the northern provinces finds nowhere a hindrance to its cruel blasts, and spreads its chill over the whole land with such steady keenness as to make the climate of the exposed parts of the black sea coast almost as wintry as that of the white sea. at odessa in the early days of october both our hotel and the private houses we had occasion to enter had already put up double doors and windows, and people lived in apartments as hermetically closed as if their homes had been in st. petersburg. we slept at baidar, a tartar village, where a maiden of that moslem race was the only attendant at the russian inn, and on the morrow we drove in three hours to sebastopol, a distance of forty-two versts. sebastopol has still not a little of that pompeian look which it bore on the day after its surrender to the western allies in . we drove through miles of ruins, the roofless walls staring at us from the dismantled doors and windows, the dust from the rubbish-heaps of brick and mortar blinding us at every turning of the streets, though, we were told, the city is looking up and thriving, and both house-rent and building-ground are rising in price from day to day. we had to wait two days for the "olga," detained by stress of weather, and it was with a hope of enlivening ourselves that, under the escort of the english consul, a crimean veteran who takes care of the heroic dead, and actually lives with as well as for them, we drove out to some of the eleven english cemeteries, to the house where lord raglan died, and the monument marking the spot where "the six hundred rode into the jaws of death"--those localities made forever memorable by a war than which none was ever undertaken with less distinct aims, none fought with greater valour, none brought to an end with less important results. we left sebastopol at three in the afternoon in the "olga," and landed at odessa in the morning at ten. throughout the first week after our arrival, we never caught a single glimpse of the sun. odessa, like sebastopol, like kertch, like astrakhan, and other places lying on the edge of the russian steppe, seems habitually, under the influence of the wind in peculiar quarters, to be haunted by fogs that set in at sunrise and only sometimes clear off after sunset. during this gloomy state of the atmosphere the night is usually warmer than the day. [illustration: place turemnaja odessa.] odessa has a magnificent position, for it lies high on ravines, which give it a wide command over its large harbour, lately improved, as well as on the open sea and coast, the striking feature of the place being its _boulevard_, a terrace or platform about yards in length, laid out and planted as a promenade, looking out seawards and accessible by a flight of stairs of steps from the landing-place. odessa is not an old town, but it looks brand-new, for there has been of late a great deal of building, and the crumbling nature of the stone keeps the mason and white-washer perpetually at work. it is lively, though monotonous, for its broad, straight streets are astir with business, and the rattle of hackney-carriages, heavy-laden vans, and tramway-cars is incessant. it boasts many private palaces and has few public edifices, and in its municipal institutions it is, or used to be, taxed with consulting rather more the purposes of luxury and ornament than the real wants of the people or the interests of charity. odessa is in russia, but not of russia, for among its citizens, we are told, possibly with exaggeration, more than one-third ( , ) are jews, besides , greeks and germans, and italians in good number. it is unlike any other russian city, for it is tolerably well paved, has plenty of drinking-water, and rows of trees--however stunted, wind-nipped, and sickly--in every street. it is not russian, because few russians succeed here in business; but strenuous efforts are made to russify it, for the names of the streets, which were once written in italian as well as in russian, are now only set up in russian, unreadable to most foreign visitors; and the so-called "italian street" (strada italiana), reminding one of what the town owes to its first settlers, has been rebaptized as "pushkin street." of the three french newspapers which flourished here till very lately, not one any longer exists, for whatever is not russian is discountenanced and tabooed in a town which, in spite of all, is not and never will be, russian. french is, nevertheless, more generally understood than in most russian cities, but italian is dying off here as in all the levant and the north coast of africa, italy losing as a united nation such hold as she had as a mere nameless cluster of divided states. it is difficult to foresee what results the great change that is visibly going on in the economical and commercial conditions of the russian empire may have on the destinies of odessa. half a century ago, if we may trust the statistics of the _journal d' odessa_, this city had only the third rank among the commercial places of russia. at the head of all then was st. petersburg, whose harbour was frequented by , to , vessels, the exports being , , to , , roubles, and the imports , , to , , roubles. next in importance came riga, with , to , vessels, , , to , , roubles exports, and , , to , , roubles imports; and odessa, as third, received to vessels, her exports amounting from , , to , , roubles, and her imports from , , to , , roubles. the relative commercial importance of the three ports was, therefore, as twenty-five to six and five. matters have undergone a considerable alteration since then. st. petersburg, whose imports and exports doubled in amount those of all the other ports of the empire put together, has been gradually declining, the ports of esthonia, livonia, and courland threatening to deprive her inconvenient harbour of a great part of the baltic trade, and the centre of general business being rapidly removed from the present seat of government to the old capital, moscow. riga, also, has been and is slowly sinking from its high position in the baltic, and may, perhaps, eventually succumb to the active rivalry of revel and libau. odessa, on the contrary, has been looking up for these many years, absorbing nearly all the russian trade in the black sea, and rapidly rising from the third to the second rank as a seaport. the main cause of the rise and progress of odessa was owing to the development of agricultural enterprise in the provinces of what is called "little" and "new russia," or the "black earth country" the granary of the empire and for a long time of all europe. beyond the steppes which encompass the whole southern seacoast of russia, from the sea of azof to the danube, there spreads far inland a fertile region, embracing the whole or part of the governments of podolia, poltava, kharkof, kief, voronei, don cossacks, etc., including the districts of what was once known as the "ukraine," which was for many years debatable land between poland, turkey, and russia, and on which roamed the mongrel bands of the cossacks, an uncouth population recruited among the many tramps and vagabonds from the northern provinces, mixed with all the races of men with whom they came into contact, settling here and there in new, loose, and almost lawless communities, organized as military colonies, and perpetually shifting their allegiance from one to the other of these three powers, till the policy and good fortune of peter the great and catherine ii. extended the sway of russia over the whole territory. at the close of the last century, and contemporaneously with the foundation of odessa ( ), the bountiful nature of the soil of this region became known, and the country was overrun by colonists from "great" or "northern russia," from germany, and from bulgaria and wallachia; and its rich harvests were soon sufficient, not only to satisfy, but to exceed the wants of the whole empire. odessa, endowed by its founder, catherine ii., with the privilege of a free port, which it enjoyed till after the war of the crimea, monopolized during that time the export of the produce of this southern land, consisting chiefly of grain and wool; and its prosperity went on, always on the increase--affected only temporarily by wars and bad harvests--to such an extent that the total value of the exports, which was, in round numbers, about , , roubles in , rose to , , roubles in , to , , roubles in , and fell, owing to the bad harvest, to , , roubles in . the odessa trade was for a long time in the hands of greek and italian merchants, the original settlers in the town at its foundation, the produce being, before the invention of steamers, conveyed to italy, france and england in italian bottoms. but, of late years, preference being given to steamers over sailing vessels, and the italians, either failing to perceive the value of time and the importance of the revolution that steam had effected, or lacking capital to profit by it, allowed the english to have the lion's share of the black sea trade, so that, in , the english vessels entering the port of odessa were steamers and four sailing vessels, with , tons, while the italians had only fifty steamers and sailing vessels, with , tons. next to the english were, in the same year, the austrians (eighty-seven steam and sailing vessels, , tons). the russians, at home here, had steam and eight sailing vessels and , tons. odessa, however, though she had so much of the trade to herself, had not of late years the whole of it. as the means of land and water conveyance improved, and especially after the construction of railways, a number of minor rivals arose all along the coast--rostov, at the mouth of the don; taganrog, mariupol or marianopolis, and berdianski, on the north coast of the sea of azof, where greek colonies are flourishing; kherson, at the mouth of the dnieper; nicolaief, at the mouth of the bug; and others. odessa was thus reduced to the trade of the region to the west of the last-named river, having lost that of the provinces of poltava, kharkof, kursk, orel, ekaterinoslaf, etc., and only retaining kherson, bessarabia, volhynia, kief, etc., which would still be sufficient for her commercial well-being. but odessa is threatened with a new and far more formidable rival in sebastopol. sebastopol, with all its inlets, is by far the most perfect harbour in the black sea, and has the inestimable advantage that it never freezes, while in odessa the ice brings all trade to a standstill for two or three weeks every winter, and all the ports of azof and the mouths of the rivers are frozen from november to march or even mid-april. sebastopol has the additional advantage of being in the most direct and nearest communication by rail with kharkof, the very heart of the black earth country, and with moscow, the centre of the russian commercial and industrial business. the people in sebastopol have hopes that the imperial government, giving up all thought of bringing back their great black sea naval station from nicolaief to its former seat, may not be unwilling that their fine harbour be turned to the purposes of trading enterprise, and even to favour it for a few years with the privileges of a free port. [illustration: sebastopol.] the citizens of odessa, on the other hand, scout such expectations as over-sanguine, if not quite chimerical, laugh to scorn the idea that the government may at any time lay aside its intention of going back with its naval establishment to sebastopol; and, in that case, they contend that the juxtaposition of a commercial with an imperial naval port would be as monstrous a combination as would be in france that of marseilles and toulon, or in england that of portsmouth and liverpool, in one and the same place. they add that the railway between moscow and sebastopol is ill-constructed and almost breaking down; that, although it is by some hundred miles shorter than that from odessa to moscow, the express and mail trains are so arranged that the most rapid communication between north and south is effected between odessa and st. petersburg, which route is travelled over in less than three days. whichever of the contending parties may have the best of the argument, there is no doubt that, were even the government to be favourable to the wishes of the people of sebastopol, there would be no just reason for jealousy between the two cities, for odessa has already proved that she can manage to grow richer than ever upon one-half of the trade of southern russia, while sebastopol might safely rely on carrying on the other half--that other half which is now already in the hands of taganrog, mariupol, nicolaief, etc. for all these ports of azof and the mouths of the rivers, besides being closed by ice for at least four months in the year, are so shallow that no amount of dredging can keep back the silting sands, and vessels must anchor at distances of ten to twenty and even thirty miles outside the harbours. _the don cossacks_ _thomas michell_ coming from the north, the first town of any importance in southern russia is kursk, three hundred and thirty-five miles from moscow in an almost direct line, the railway passing through the cities of tula (the russian birmingham), and orel, the centre of a rich agricultural district connected by rail, on the west, with riga on the baltic, and on the south-east with tsaritzin on the volga. authentic records attest the existence of kursk in , and in it was held by isiaslaf, son of vladimir monomachus, from whom it passed alternately to the princes of chernigof and of pereyaslasl. in the thirteenth century it was razed to the ground by the tartars. in the southern frontiers of moscovy were fortified, and kursk became one of the principal places on that line of defence against the crimean tartars and the poles. its disasters and sufferings as a military outpost ceased only towards the end of the seventeenth century, after little russia (the more southerly districts watered by the dnieper), submitted to the tsar alexis. we are now almost in the heart of the _chernozem_, or black soil country, so called from the rich black loam of which its surface is composed to a depth of two and three yards and more. these vast plains were known to herodotus, strabo, and other ancient geographers only in their present _steppe_, or flat and woodless condition. it is a great relief to the eye to see at last a handsomely-built city like kursk, perched, relatively to the surrounding flatness, on an elevation and almost smothered in the verdure of numerous gardens. there is, however, not much to see within it, for even the churches are mostly not older than the second half of the eighteenth century. the more southerly part of the province of kursk is in the _ukraine_, or ancient border country. its semi-nomadic population obtained in early days the designation of cossacks. this word is not sclavonic, but turkish; and although it long denoted in russia a free man, or, rather, a man free to do anything he chose, it had been used by the tartar hordes to designate the lower class of their horsemen. from the princes of the house of rurik these southerly districts passed into the possession of lithuania, and, later, into those of poland. little russia was another arbitrary name anciently given to a great part of what has been also known as the ukraine. no fixed geographical limits can be assigned to either of these designations, and especially to the ukraine of the poles or the muscovites; for as the borders or marshes became safe and populated, they were absorbed by the dominant power, and ultimately incorporated into provinces. little russia is, in fact, a term now used only to denote the southern russians as distinguished principally from the great russians of the more central part of the empire. there is a strongly-marked difference in the outward appearance, the mode of life, and even the cast of thought of these two branches of the sclav race. the language of the little russian, or _hohol_, as he is contemptuously called by his more vigorous northern brother, is a cross between the polish and the russian, although nearer akin to the muscovite than to the polish tongue. ethnographically, also, the little russians become gradually fused with the white russians of the north-west (mohilef and vitebsk) and with the slovaks of the other side of the carpathians. the _malo-ros_ (little russian) is physically a better, though a less muscular man than the _veliko-ros_, or great russian. he is taller, finer-featured, and less rude and primitive in his domestic surroundings. the women have both beauty and grace, and make the most of those qualities by adorning themselves in neat and picturesque costumes, resembling strongly those of the roumanian and transylvanian peasantry. their houses are not like those of other parts of russia--log huts, full, generally, of vermin and cockroaches; but wattled, thatched, and whitewashed cottages, surrounded by gardens, and kept internally in order and cleanliness. their lives are altogether more happy, although their songs, full of deep feeling, and not without a vein of romance are, like those of all sclavs, plaintive and in the minor key. the men sing of the daring exploits of their cossack forefathers, who were not free-booters like the old cossacks of the volga, but courageous men engaged in a life-and-death struggle with nomadic hordes, and later with internal enemies, poles and rebels. the greater refinement of the women of little russia is attributable to the comparative ease of their lives in a fertile country, with a climate more genial than that of the more northerly parts of the empire. there the great and the white russians had to contend with a soil much less productive, with swamps which had to be drained, with thick forests which had to be cleared, with wild beasts which had to be destroyed or guarded against, and with frost and snow that left scarcely four months in the year for labour in the field. the upper classes of south russia, enriched by the cultivation of large and fertile estates, and favoured in their social development by long contact with the ancient western civilization of poland, exhibit a similar superiority over the bulk of their compeers in great russia. except, however, in the case of the larger landed proprietors, the everyday life of the southern russian bears a strong resemblance to that of the irish squireen. there is a strong tinge of the same _insouciance_ as to the material future, and an equal propensity to reckless hospitality, to sport (principally coursing), social jollification, and to a great extent to card-playing. indeed, there are well-appointed country seats in the south of russia in which the long summer days are entirely spent in card-playing, with interruptions only for meals. there are horses in plenty in the stable, and vehicles of every description to which they can be harnessed; but "taking a drive" through endless cornfields along natural roads or tracks, parched, cracked, and dusty one day, and presenting the next a surface of black mud, offers but few attractions to the ladies, and vehicular locomotion is therefore resorted to only as a matter of necessity, on journeys to estates or towns often fifty to one hundred miles distant. country life, indeed, has no great attractions in any part of russia proper, and ever since the emancipation of the serfs and the accompanying extinction of the power and authority of the proprietary classes, absenteeism has been largely on the increase, to the advantage solely of the principal provincial towns, and of certain capitals and watering-places in western europe. thus, while kursk and kharkof owe much of their riches and progress to the immigration of landed proprietors from the northerly and eastern districts of the "black soil zone," kief is the resort of more princely landlords of the south-western districts, strongly and favourably affected by polish culture. kharkof, to the east of kief, is the principal seat of trade in south russia, being a centre from which the products and manufactures of northern and central russia are spread throughout the provinces to the east and south, down even to the caucasus. sugar, largely produced in this part of russia from beet-root and "bounty-fed," and corn, brandy, wool and hides from the central provinces, are largely sold at the five fairs held each year at kharkof, which has also reason to be proud of its university with upwards of six hundred students, and of its connection by rail with the shores of the baltic and those of the black and azof seas. in , kharkof became the capital of the ukraine, after having been a cossack outpost town since , when poland finally ceded the province to muscovy. anciently, this was the camping-ground of nomadic tribes, particularly of the khazars, and later the high road of the tartar invaders of russia, whether from the crimea or the shores of the caspian. in the province of kharkof are found those remarkable idols of stone which we have seen in the historical museum at moscow, and a vast number of tumuli, which have yielded coins establishing the fact of an early intercourse both with rome and arabia. poltava, also a place of extensive trade, principally in wool, horses, and cattle, is familiar to us in connection with the defeat of charles xii. by peter the great in . the centre of the field so disastrous to the swedes is marked by a mound which covers the remains of their slain. two monuments commemorate the victory. at ekaterinoslaf we are again on the great dnieper. it was only a village when catherine ii., descending the river from kief in a stately barge accompanied by joseph ii. of austria, king stanislaus augustus of poland and a brilliant suite, raised it to the dignity of a town bearing her own name. on that occasion she laid the first stone of a cathedral which was not destined to be completed on the imposing scale she had projected, and which has been reduced to one-sixth in the edifice that was consecrated only in . the town consists of only one row of buildings, almost concealed in gardens and running for nearly three miles parallel with the dnieper. catherine's palace, a bronze statue which represents her clad in roman armour and crowned, and the garden of her magnificent favourite, prince potemkin, constitute the "sights" of ekaterinoslaf, the more striking feature of which, however, is its jewish population, huddled together in a special quarter between the river and the bazaar. a considerable number of them pursue the favourite jewish occupation of money-changing, and the ekaterinoslaf prospekt is dotted with their stands and their money-chests, painted blue and red. a drive over forty miles of steppe, somewhat relieved in its monotony by numerous ancient tumuli, bring those who do not proceed by steamer to the great naval station and commercial port of nicolaief, at the junction of the ingul with the bug. it was the site until of a cossack _setch_, or fortified settlement, and in it received its present appellation in commemoration of the capture of otchakof from the turks on the feast-day of st. nicholas. destined from the first by potemkin to be the harbour of a russian fleet in the black sea, temporarily neglected by the naval authorities, nicolaief reasserted its claim to that proud position after the fall of sebastopol. it owes much of its present affluence to the sound administration of admiral samuel greig, son of the admiral of scotch parentage who, with the aid of some equally gallant countrymen, won for the russians the naval battle of chesmé in . next to odessa, nicolaief is the handsomest town in new russia, as this part of the country was called after its conquest from the turks and tartars. its large trade, mostly in grain, has been greatly promoted by the railway, which now connects this important harbour with kharkof and other rich agricultural centres. of the six ports on the neighbouring sea of azof, taganrog, where alexander i. died in , is the most considerable, although steamers have to anchor at a considerable distance from it, owing to the shallowness of the roadstead. the annual value of its exports of corn, wool, tallow, etc., is about five millions sterling, and, as at nicolaief, british shipping is chiefly employed in the trade. much of the produce shipped here comes from rostov-on-the-don, the chief centre of inland trade in the south-east provinces of russia, and one in which many industries (especially the manipulation of tobacco grown in the caucasus and the crimea), are pursued. a short distance above this great mart is novocherkask, the capital of the "country of the don cossacks," anciently the abode of scythians, sarmatians, huns, bolgars, khazars and tartars. the present population dates from the sixteenth century, when renegades from muscovy and vagrants of every description formed themselves into cossack, or robber communities. they attacked the tartars and turks, and in took the turkish fortress of azof. under the reign of peter the great the powerful and independent cossacks were not much interfered with, but from they were gradually brought under subjection to the tsar, whom they powerfully assisted in subsequent wars. the town was founded in , and is adorned with a bronze monument to the famous hetman (ataman or chief) platof, leader of the cossacks between and . it is usual to bestow on the russian heir-apparent the title of "ataman" of the don cossacks. the last investiture with cossack _bâton_ took place in , when also the reigning emperor confirmed, at a "circle," or open-air assemblage, all the ancient rights and privileges of the warlike cossacks of the don. [illustration: kharkof.] the chief town of the kuban district is ekaterinodar, a name which signifies, literally, "catherine's gift," from having been founded by the sovereign of that name and bestowed, in , together with the adjacent territory, on the zaporogian, subsequently known as the black sea cossacks. catherine mistrusted their power and influence, and tempted them to the kuban with grants of land and other privileges. the first service of some , of those new warrior settlers consisted in barring all egress from the mountains, by means of a "first fortified line" of stations that extended to vladikavkas, where they united with the descendants of the grebenski cossacks, with whom they are not to be confounded. the predominant type amongst the zaporogians is still that of the little russians, the grebenski continuing to preserve their identity with the natives of great russia, whence their origin; and although the whole of this imposing force, maintained at half a million, has long since adopted the dress of the caucasian mountaineers, the cossacks remain true to the orthodox faith and to the customs of their forefathers, whose vernacular tongue has never been forgotten by them. the dress so universally worn by the male sex, even from boyhood, in all parts of the caucasus, consists of a single-breasted garment, like a frock-coat, but reaching almost to the ankles, tightened in closely at the waist, with a belt from which are suspended dagger, sword, and frequently a pistol, and having on either breast a row of ten or twelve sockets, each of a size to hold a cartridge. a rifle, which every man possesses, is slung across the back; and a tall sheep-skin hat finished off at its summit with a piece of coloured cloth completes the costume. the number of cossacks in transcaucasia being very limited, for a few only are stationed in each principal town, chiefly as an escort to the governor of the province, their duties are performed by _chapars_, an irregular force, equally dashing horsemen, and trained in like manner from early youth in those singular exercises and breakneck evolutions for which the cossacks of the caucasus have become so famous. setting their horses at full gallop, they will stand on the saddle and fire all around at an imaginary enemy; or throw the body completely over to the right, with the left heel resting on their steed's hind quarter, and fire as if at an enemy in pursuit, or turn clean round, and sitting astride facing the horse's tail, keep up a rapid fire. a favourite feat, among many others, is to throw their hat and rifle to the ground, wheel, and pick them up whilst going at the horse's fullest speed. should the traveller elect to proceed eastward, but north of the great range, he will meet with the kabardines, the first amongst the circassians to enter into friendly relations with russia; they are the "blood" of the caucasus, a noble race, thoroughly domesticated, hospitable to strangers, and useful breeders of cattle. to the south of the circassians, and occupying about one hundred miles of the coast in the black sea, are the abkhases, who have enjoyed the reputation, from time immemorial, of being an indolent and lawless race, anciently given to piracy, now addicted to thieving when the opportunity is afforded them, for they are determinedly inimical to strangers. their mountains abound in forests of magnificent walnut and box, where the enthusiastic sportsman will find the bear, hyena, and wolf, and plenty of smaller game, with seldom a roof to cover him other than the vault of heaven; but the ordinary traveller is likely to encounter difficulties and delays that he would prefer to avoid. christianity was here introduced by justinian, who constructed many churches that would have been notable specimens of byzantine architecture, had the abkhases not destroyed them in their struggles against the russians, every such edifice being occupied and converted by the latter into a military post. one church, at pitzunda on the coast, remarkable as being the place to which john chrysostom was banished at the instance of empress eudoxia--although the exile never reached his destination--having escaped the general destruction, has been thoroughly restored of late years, and is a striking object to passing vessels. being the mother church in the caucasus, pitzunda, then pityus, continued to be the seat of the catholics of abkhasia until the twelfth century. practically, the abkhases are at present heathens. farther south, and extending some way inland from the sea, is the principality of mingrelia, where we again tread classic ground, inasmuch as our wanderings have brought us to the Æa of circe and the argonauts. in a mingrelian landscape we are struck at the aspect afforded by the numerous whitewashed cottages as they dot the well-wooded hills. the mingrelians, too, like their neighbours whom we have just quitted, are incurably given to indolence, except in the making of wine from their abundant vineyards; otherwise they are content to live on the produce of their orchards, prolific through the interposition of a beneficent providence rather than to any agricultural diligence on their part. they may certainly be included amongst the handsomest people in transcaucasia, with their well-defined features and usually raven black hair. the dadian, or prince, is the wealthiest of the dispossessed rulers: the foresight of his predecessor and his own european training having taught him the danger of disposing of land and squandering the proceeds, rather than preserving the property and contenting himself with a smaller income. between mingrelia and abkhasia courses the ingur, and if we ascend to near its water-shed--a journey easily accomplished on horse-back, say from sougdidi, the well-known military station--we should find ourselves amongst a very wild and singular people, the svanni, whose complete subjugation dates back no farther it may be said than , although they made a formal submission in . they occupy some forty or fifty miles of the upper valley of the ingur, at no part exceeding ten miles in width, and are cut off from all outside communication between the beginning of september and the end of may, in consequences of the passes being blocked with snow. "the scenery in this valley," writes a recent traveller, "is of great beauty and wildness, and grand beyond description; amid the most profuse vegetation, every imaginable flower is seen in its wild state, and bank, meadow, hill-side and grass plot are literally covered with all that is most lovely; in every forest and grove, and all undergrowth even, indeed wherever the pure air of heaven and its divine light is not obstructed, the earth is thus gorgeously arrayed." _in the caucasus_ _j. buchan teller_ returning to mingrelia, we find it bounded on the south by the river rion, the ancient phasis, which flows through the country whence was introduced into europe the phasian bird--our pheasant. the rion divides mingrelia from guria, another principality, where is situated batoum, a somewhat pestiferous but important military station and commercial port, that has tended in no small degree, since its annexation to russia in , towards the development of the resources of this beautiful country, intersected with good roads through valleys highly cultivated with maize, corn, and barley, the hills and their declivities being overspread with the oak and box, exported in large quantities, and yielding handsome returns. ozurgheti, the chief town, attractively situated, was the residence of the rulers who lie interred at the ancient monastery and episcopal church, chemokmedy, about six miles distant. passengers from odessa and the crimea landing at batoum find the train in readiness to convey them to tiflis, the capital of the whole transcaucasia, reached in about fifteen hours, the train travelling slowly enough, but through a land of much interest, historically and pictorially. on the right, in the distance, are the highlands of the old kingdom of armenia, to the left is imeritia, a glory, like mingrelia and guria, of the past. if so inclined, the traveller may exchange, at rion station, the main for a branch line, which will take him to kutaïs, the chief town of the old kingdom of imeritia, where he may tarry for a while to great advantage. it is the ancient khytæa, the residence of Ætes; at any rate a city of great antiquity, beautifully situated on the banks of the rion. between kutaïs and tiflis is the pass of suram, at an altitude of three thousand and twenty-seven feet, over which are laid the lines of rail by gradients of one in twenty-two feet over a distance of about eight miles; a triumph of engineering skill due, as is the entire railway, to british capital and enterprise. beyond this pass the train stops at gori, situated at the limits of a glorious plain, watered by the kur and its tributaries. since fairly good accommodation is obtainable, it were well to halt at this station for the purpose of visiting the unique rock-cut town, uplytztzykhé, some eight miles off. here is a town--there can be no other designation for it--consisting of public edifices--if such a term may be employed--of large habitations, presumably for the great, smaller dwellings for others, each being conveniently divided, and having doorways, openings for light, and partitions, while many are ornamented with cornices, mouldings, beams and pillars. the groups are separated by streets and lanes, and grooves have been cut, unquestionably for water-courses, and yet the whole has been entirely hewn and shaped out of the solid rock. tradition is replete with incidents in the history of these remarkable excavations, but faithful historiographers have hitherto refrained from endorsing any of the tales that have been handed down by romancers of georgia. tiflis, the chief seat of government and residence of the governor-general, having a population of about one hundred thousand souls, is unpleasantly situated between ranges of perfectly barren hills, and but for the river kur, on the banks of which it is built, would be almost uninhabitable. having driven through the suburbs on his way from the railway terminus, the traveller crosses the kur over the woronzoff bridge, which at once brings him to the principal street, where he passes in succession the public gardens, gymnasium, law-courts, palace of the governor-general, the main guard-house, public library, museum, etc.; by which time he will have reached palace street and erivan square, where are situated the best hotels and restaurants, and the national theatre. from the square three main thoroughfares lead to as many separate quarters, viz.: the european, where the wealthy live in well-built houses of elegant construction; the native bazaars, and the marketplace and russian bazaar. an extensive view of the city and an interesting sight is obtained from the eminence crowned by the old fortress which immediately overlooks the asiatic quarter and bazaars, whence rise the confused sounds of human cries and the din from the iron, brass, and copper-workers. as is the custom elsewhere in the east, those of one trade congregate together, apart from the other trades, and so are passed a succession of silversmiths in their stalls, of furriers, armourers, or eating and wine-shops, the wine of the country being kept in buffalo, goat, or sheep-skins laid on their back, and presenting the disagreeable appearance of carcases swollen after lengthened immersion in water. the georgians are merry folk, rarely allowing themselves to be depressed by the troubles of life. they love wine and music, and ever seek to drive away dull care by indulging in their favourite kakhety--two bottles being the usual allowance to a man's dinner, an allowance, however, greatly exceeded when, of an evening, friends meet together to join in the national dance, called the lezghinka. the cathedral of zion was formerly the church of the patriarch of georgia. it dates from the fifth century, and encloses that most precious relic, with which the nation was converted to christianity in the fourth century--nothing less than a cross of vine stems bound with the hair of st. nina, the patron saint, who first preached the truth! the patriarchate has long been suppressed, and is replaced by a russian exarch, so that the georgian church may be considered in all respects identical with that of russia. the palace of the kings has entirely disappeared, for not a vestige remains. george xiii. signed his renunciation of the crown in favour of the emperor paul in , and died shortly afterwards amid the execrations of his subjects, for having ignominiously betrayed them. many of his descendants are in the service of russia, and are the representatives of one of the most ancient monarchies of the world--for the bagrations first rose to power in ; and if allowance be made for interregnums it will be found that their reign extended over years, during the twelve centuries that elapsed from their earliest election. as georgia is the land of wine and song, so is armenia essentially the land of legend and tradition, for which must be held in great part responsible the magnificent mountain that exhibits itself suddenly at a dip in the road long before the plains are in sight. well may the armenians glory in "their" ararat, peerless among the mighty works of the creator, almost symmetrical in its outlines, and rising to an altitude of , feet above the sea, lesser ararat, , feet, looking almost dwarfed by the side of its mighty neighbour. at erivan, the largest city in russian armenia, the traveller will find fairly good accommodation, but the place is dull enough, whether in the persian quarter, where crooked lanes are lined with high walls, that mask the dwellings within like the defences of a fortress, or in the broad streets and unpaved quarter laid out by the russians since their occupation of the province in , even though enlivened by a boulevard and gardens fair to look upon. the population is armenian and persian, for persia ruled here during a considerable period until vanquished by russia; but at the bazaar one meets with other nationalities, such as tartars from the steppes, kurds, greeks, and turkish dealers in search of good horses, upon which they will fly across the frontier, defying cossacks and custom officers alike. within a short distance of erivan, and the post-station nearest to the persian frontier, is nahitchevan, the first abode of noah after he came forth from the ark, and probably also his last, since his tomb is reverently shown by the inhabitants, who eagerly escort strangers to see it. other still more important towns in armenia, available by carriage-road, are alexandropol and kars, the former being the largest and most powerful fortress and the principal arsenal in transcaucasia; the latter, long a turkish fortress town, was gallantly defended in by sir fenwick williams and a few british officers, until the garrison was starved into surrender by general mouravieff. kars was finally ceded to russia by the treaty of berlin in . [illustration: tiflis.] a tartar city brought into prominence of late years through the introduction of railways is elizavetpol, on the line between tiflis and the caspian, where we must now pick ourselves up after having retraced our steps from the plains, to journey by rail to dismal looking bakù--a town of recent creation, approached through a desert of sand and stones, where neither vegetable nor animal life can possibly find an existence. viewed from the sea, bakù presents a distinctly picturesque appearance, with its sombre citadel, numerous minarets, and the palace of the princes of bygone days towering above the old town, where the houses look as if they were piled the one above the other--the new or russian quarter being at the base, and lining the shore of the pretty little bay. modern bakù contains some handsome residences and well-paved streets, the principal being the busy quay, constructed of massive blocks of greystone masonry, where the naphtha, the wealth of bakù, is embarked for transport to the interior of russia by the volga, or for conveyance across the caspian to central asia. numerous refineries, worth inspecting, at the west end of bakù compose the black town, so called from its begrimed condition, and from being ever enveloped in clouds of the densest smoke. since a remote period has this neighbourhood been considered holy by fire-worshippers, because of the many naphtha springs that were constantly burning, some even perpetually; indeed, the fires at surakan, a suburb of bakù, continued to be guarded by fire-worshippers from yezd in persia, and even from india, until, with the connivance of the government, they were hustled away some ten years ago by the increasing number of speculators engaged in a trade which has now completely driven out of the market all american produce. in daghestan is gunib, the last stronghold of the brave shamyl, whom the strength of russia was unequal to subdue during the space of thirty years. "do the russians say that they are numerous as the grains of sand? then are we the waves that will carry away that sand," said the great tartar chief addressing the numerous tribes who placed themselves under his leadership to repel the invader. the mountaineers posted themselves on the heights, and, hidden by trees, shot down their enemies in scores as they advanced in column up the narrow defiles. the great thoroughfare between transcaucasia and russia is from tiflis to vladikavkaz, the terminus of the moscow-rostof railway, by way of the dariel road, a stupendous engineering success completed in the reign of nicholas. this road winds over a pass , feet above the sea, and is kept in repair and clear for traffic in winter by the ossets, whose country it traverses, in return for which service they are exempt from all taxes. when the traveller will have completed the journey from tiflis to vladikavkaz, he will have arrived at the dépôt and point of transit for all goods brought by rail from russia, and there transferred, for conveyance to the transcaucasian provinces, to clumsy, unwieldly carts or vans drawn by horses or oxen; those in charge of the caravans never being in a hurry, completely indifferent as to when they start, or when they arrive at their destination, and rejoicing in a lengthened stay at mlety station, after having accomplished the most tiresome part of the distance--the ascent and descent of the pass. vladikavkaz was founded in on the site of an osset village, and became the headquarters and chief military dépôt of the russians during their lengthened struggle for supremacy with the stout-hearted hillmen; it is now the chief town and seat of government for the province of kuban, and still an important military station. the population is made up of circassians, armenians, and russians, and a few ossets at the bazaars, for the natives made off long ago. the chief industries are the manufacture of silver and gold lace, arms, _burkas_, the caucasian's all-weathers cloak, silver ornaments, etc. the hotels are fairly good, but there being nothing at vladikavkaz itself sufficiently inviting to encourage a longer stay than is absolutely necessary, the following choice of routes lays before the stranger. he may post through eastern caucasus and embark at petrovsk for astrakhan and the tedious voyage up the volga; or take the railway to rostof _en route_ to moscow; or travel by rail to novorossisk on the black sea, and there embark; or, following that line as far as ekaterinodar, post thence to taman and cross the straits to kertch. _khiva_ _fred burnaby_ we were now fast nearing khiva, which could be just discerned in the distance, but was hidden, to a certain extent, from our view by a narrow belt of tall, graceful trees; however, some richly-painted minarets and high domes of coloured tiles could be seen towering above the leafy groves. orchards surrounded by walls eight and ten feet high, continually met the gaze, and avenues of mulberry-trees studded the landscape in all directions. the two khivans rode first; i followed, having put on my black fur pelisse instead of the sheep-skin garment, so as to present a more respectable appearance on entering the city. nazar, who was mounted on the horse that stumbled, brought up the rear. he had desired the camel-driver to follow in the distance with the messenger and the caravan; my servant being of opinion that the number of our animals was not sufficient to deeply impress the khivans with my importance, and that on this occasion it was better to ride in without any caravan than with the small one i possessed. we now entered the city, which is of an oblong form, and surrounded by two walls: the outer one is about fifty feet high: its basement is constructed of baked bricks, the upper part being built of dried clay. this forms the first line of defense, and completely encircles the town, which is about a quarter of a mile within the wall. four high wooden gates, clamped with iron, barred the approach from the north, south, east, and west, while the walls themselves were in many places out of repair. the town itself is surrounded by a second wall, not quite so high as the one just described, and with a dry ditch, which is now half filled with ruined _débris_. the slope which leads from the wall to the trench has been used as a cemetery, and hundreds of sepulchres and tombs were scattered along some undulating ground just without the city. the space between the first and second walls is used as a market-place, where cattle, horses, sheep, and camels are sold, and where a number of carts were standing, filled with corn and grass. here an ominous-looking cross-beam had been erected, towering high above the heads of the people with its bare, gaunt poles. this was the gallows on which all people convicted of theft are executed; murderers being put to death in a different manner, having their throats cut from ear to ear in the same way that sheep are killed. this punishment is carried out by the side of a large hole in the ground, not far from the principal street in the centre of the town. but i must here remark that the many cruelties stated to have been perpetrated by the present khan previous to the capture of his city did not take place. indeed, they only existed in the fertile muscovite imagination, which was eager to find an excuse for the appropriation of a neighbour's property. on the contrary, capital punishment was only inflicted when the laws had been infringed; and there is no instance of the khan having arbitrarily put any one to death. the two walls above mentioned appear to have made up the defenses of the city, which was also armed with sixteen guns. these, however, proved practically useless against the russians, as the garrison only fired solid shot, not being provided with shell. the khan seemed to have made no use whatever of the many inclosed gardens in the vicinity of the city during the russian advance, as, if he had, and firmly contested each yard of soil, i much doubt whether the tsar's troops could have ever entered the city. it is difficult to estimate the population of an oriental city by simply riding round its walls; so many houses are uninhabited, and others again are densely packed with inhabitants. however, i should say, as a mere guess, that there are about , human beings within the walls of khiva. the streets are broad and clean, while the houses belonging to the richer inhabitants are built of highly polished bricks and coloured tiles, which lend a cheerful aspect to the otherwise somewhat sombre colour of the surroundings. there are nine schools: the largest, which contains pupils, was built by the father of the present khan. these buildings are all constructed with high, coloured domes, and are ornamented with frescoes and arabesque work, the bright aspect of the cupolas first attracting the stranger's attention on his nearing the city. presently we rode through a bazaar similar to the one at oogentch, thin rafters and straw uniting the tops of the houses in the street, and forming a sort of roof to protect the stall-keepers and their customers from the rays of a summer sun. we were followed by crowds of people; and as some of the more inquisitive approached too closely, the khivans who accompanied me, raising their whips in the air, freely belaboured the shoulders of the multitude, thus securing a little space. after riding through a great number of streets, and taking the most circuitous course--probably in order to duly impress me with an idea of the importance of the town--we arrived before my companion's house. several servants ran forward and took hold of the horses. the khivan dismounted, and, bowing obsequiously, led the way through a high door-way constructed of solid timber. we next entered a square open court, with carved stone pillars supporting a balcony which looked down upon a marble fountain, or basin, the general appearance of the court being that of a _patio_ in some nobleman's house in cordova or seville. a door of a similar construction to the one already described, though somewhat lower, gave access to a long, narrow room, a raised daïs at each end being covered with handsome rugs. there were no windows, glass being a luxury which has only recently found its way to the capital; but the apartment received its light from an aperture at the side, which was slightly concealed by some trellis-work, and from a space left uncovered in the ceiling, which was adorned with arabesque figures. the two doors which led from the court were each of them handsomely carved, and in the middle of the room was a hearth filled with charcoal embers. my host, beckoning to me to take the post of honour by the fire, retired a few paces and folded his arms across his chest; then, assuming a deprecatory air, he asked my permission to sit down. grapes, melons, and other fruit, fresh as on the day when first picked, were brought in on a large tray and laid at my feet, while the host himself, bringing in a russian tea-pot and cup, poured out some of the boiling liquid and placed it by my side; i all this time being seated on a rug, with my legs crossed under me, in anything but a comfortable position. he then inquired if i had any commands for him, as the khan had given an order that everything i might require was instantly to be supplied. in the afternoon two officials arrived from the khan's palace, with an escort of six men on horseback and four on foot. the elder of the two dignitaries said that his majesty was waiting to receive me, and my horse being brought round, i mounted, and accompanied him towards the palace. the six men on horseback led the way, then i came between the two officials, and nazar brought up the rear with some attendants on foot, who freely lashed the crowd with their whips whenever any of the spectators approached our horses too closely. the news that the khan was about to receive me had spread rapidly through the town, and the streets were lined with curious individuals all eager to see the englishman. perhaps in no part of the world is india more talked of than in the central asian khanates; and the stories of our wealth and power, which have reached khiva through afghan and bokharan sources, have grown like a snow-ball in its onward course, until the riches described in the garden discovered by aladdin would pale if compared with the fabled treasures of hindoostan. after riding through several narrow streets, where, in some instances, the house-tops were thronged with people desirous of looking at our procession, we emerged on a small, flat piece of ground which was not built over, and which formed a sort of open square. here a deep hole was pointed out to me as the spot where criminals who have been found guilty of murder had their throats cut from ear to ear. the khan's palace is a large building, ornamented with pillars and domes, which, covered with bright-coloured tiles, flash in the sun, and attract the attention of the stranger approaching khiva. a guard of thirty or forty men armed with cimeters stood at the palace gates. we next passed into a small court-yard. the khan's guards were all arrayed in long flowing silk robes of various patterns, bright-coloured sashes being girt around their waists, and tall fur hats surmounting their bronzed countenances. the court-yard was surrounded by a low pile of buildings, which are the offices of the palace, and was filled with attendants and menials of the court, while good-looking boys of an effeminate appearance, with long hair streaming down their shoulders, and dressed a little like the women, lounged about, and seemed to have nothing in particular to do. a door at the farther end of the court gave access to a low passage, and, after passing through some dirty corridors, where i had occasionally to stoop in order to avoid knocking my head against the ceiling, we came to a large, square-shaped room. here the treasurer was seated, with three moullahs, who were squatted by his side, while several attendants crouched in humble attitudes at the opposite end of the apartment. the treasurer and his companions were busily engaged in counting some rolls of ruble-notes and a heap of silver coin, which has been received from the khan's subjects, and were now to be sent to petro-alexandrovsk as part of the tribute to the tsar. the great man now made a sign to some of his attendants, when a large wooden box, bearing signs of having been manufactured in russia, was pushed a little from the wall and offered to me as a seat. nazar was accommodated among the dependents at the other end of the room. after the usual salaams had been made, the functionary continued his task, leaving me in ignorance as to what was to be the next part of the programme; nazar squatting himself as far as possible from one of the attendants, who was armed with a cimeter, and whom he suspected of being the executioner. after i had been kept waiting for about a quarter of an hour, a messenger entered the room and informed the treasurer that the khan was disengaged, and ready to receive me. we now entered a long corridor, which led to an inner court-yard. here we found the reception-hall, a large tent, or _kibitka_, of a dome-like shape. the treasurer, lifting up a fold of thick cloth, motioned to me to enter, and on doing so i found myself face to face with the celebrated khan, who was reclining against some pillows or cushions, and seated on a handsome persian rug, warming his feet by a circular hearth filled with burning charcoal. he raised his hand to his forehead as i stood before him, a salute which i returned by touching my cap. he then made a sign for me to sit down by his side. before i relate our conversation, it may not be uninteresting if i describe the sovereign. he is taller than the average of his subjects, being quite five feet ten in height, and is strongly built: his face is of a broad, massive type, he has a low, square forehead, large dark eyes, a short straight nose with dilated nostrils, and a coal-black beard and mustache; while an enormous mouth, with irregular but white teeth, and a chin somewhat concealed by his beard, and not at all in character with the otherwise determined appearance of his face, must complete the picture. he did not look more than eight-and-twenty, and has a pleasant, genial smile, and a merry twinkle in his eye, very unusual among orientals; in fact, to me an expression in spanish would better describe his face than any english one i can think of. it is very _simpatica_, and i must say i was greatly surprised, after all that has been written in russian newspapers about the cruelties and other iniquities perpetrated by this khivan potentate, to find the original such a cheery sort of fellow. his countenance was of a very different type from his treasurer's. the hang-dog expression of the latter made me bilious to look at him, and it was said that he carried to great lengths these peculiar vices and depraved habits to which orientals are so often addicted. the khan was dressed in a similar sort of costume to that generally worn by his subjects, but it was made of much richer materials, and a jewelled sword was lying by his seat. his head was covered by a tall black astrakhan hat, of a sugar-loaf shape; and on my seeing that all the officials who were in the room at the same time as myself kept on their fur hats, i did the same. the sovereign, turning to an attendant, gave an order in a low tone, when tea was instantly brought, and handed to me in a small porcelain tea-cup. a conversation with the khan was now commenced, and carried on through nazar and a kirghiz interpreter who spoke russian, and occasionally by means of a moullah, who was acquainted with arabic, and had spent some time in egypt. _the trans-siberian railway_ _william durban_ the general characteristics of the trans-siberian railroad may be described in a few words. it is by far the longest railway on earth. it is very much more solidly constructed, for the most part, than is generally supposed. the road bed is perfectly firm, and the track is well ballasted. though in certain of the sections far to the east great engineering difficulties had to be contended with, the gradients on the greater part of the route are remarkably easy. uniformity of gauge is the keynote of russian railway engineers. accordingly in possessing a five-foot guage, the great siberian is uniform with all the railroads throughout the russian empire. thus, the ample breadth of the cars harmonizes with the luxury which astonishes the traveller who visits russia for the first time, no matter in what region of the empire he happens to be touring. the great height of the carriages, proportionate with the width, adds to the imposing aspect of the trains. it is necessary to bear these considerations in mind, for the idea prevails throughout the world outside russia that this colossal road was carried through, not only with great haste, but also on a flimsy and superficial system. the bridges are necessarily very numerous, for siberia is a land of mighty rivers with countless tributaries. all the permanent bridges are of iron. those which were temporarily made of timber are being in every case reconstructed, and the great siberian includes some of the most magnificent bridges in the world. the bridge over the irtish is unrivalled. being nearly four miles long, it is on that account phenomenal; but its stupendous piers, designed specially to resist the fearful pressure of the ice, would alone convince any sceptic of the determination of the russian administration to spare none of the resources of the empire in order to make this railway absolutely efficient, alike for mercantile and military purposes. the trans-siberian railway is intended to create a new siberia. it is already fulfilling that aim, as i shall show. the most potent of the civilizing factors of the twentieth century is in this enterprise presented to the world, and in a very few years people will realize with astonishment what this railway means. the trans-siberian nominally begins in europe. it is inaugurated by the magnificent iron bridge which spans the volga at samara in east russia. the volga is here a giant river, and this noble bridge joins the european railway system with the new asiatic line. but practically the asian line commences in the heart of the ural mountains, if that long and broad chain of low and pretty hills ought to be dignified with the name of mountains. here lies the little town of cheliabinsk, which in was the terminus of the european system. it is an interesting fact that americans and englishmen were the real authors of this splendid and romantic scheme for spanning the asiatic continent with a railway from west to east. in , an american named collins came forward with a scheme for the formation of an amur railway company, to lay a line from irkutsk to chita. although his plan was not officially adopted, it was carefully kept in mind, and it actually forms the main and central part of the present line. an english engineer offered to lay a tramroad across siberia, after muravieff had carried russia to the pacific by his brilliant annexation of the mouths of the amur. in , three englishmen offered to construct a railway from moscow through nijni-novgorod to tartar bay. though all proposals by foreigners have been courteously shelved, they have in reality formed the bases of native enterprise. it is to the credit of russia that she has determined to depend on the energy and ability of her own sons to carry out this colossal undertaking. one of the chronic troubles of the russian government arises from the uneven distribution of the population. it happens that those are the most thickly inhabited districts which are the least able to support a dense population. for instance, an immense number of villages are scattered through the vast forest regions of central and western russia, where birch trees grow by millions, while the great wheat-growing plains of the west centre and south-west are but sparsely inhabited. then again, the infatuation of the military oligarchy has been evidenced in the plan by which all the railways except this new siberian line have been designed for purely military purposes. the emperor nicholas insisted on all the lines being developed without the slightest regard to the wants of the towns and the conveniences of commerce. even the natural facilities for engineering operations were not allowed by that autocrat to be for a moment taken into consideration. his engineers were once consulting him as to the expediency of taking the line from st. petersburg to moscow by a slight detour, to avoid some very troublesome obstacles. the tsar took up a ruler, and with his pencil drew a straight line from the old metropolis. handing back the chart, he peremptorily said: "there, gentlemen, that is to be the route for the line!" and certainly there is not a straighter reach of miles on any railroad in the world, as every tourist knows who has journeyed between the two chief cities of the russian empire. for instance, not very far beyond the urals there is one magnificent stretch of perfectly straight road for versts, or nearly eighty miles. the traveller who expects that on the great siberian route he will speedily find himself plunged into semi-savagery, or that he will on leaving europe begin to realize the solitude of a vast forlorn wilderness, will be agreeably disappointed. this great line is intended to carry forward in its progress all the comforts of modern civilization. every station is picturesque and even artistic. no two stations are alike in style, and all are neat, substantial, comfortable, and comparable to the best rural stations anywhere in europe or america. in one respect russian provision for travellers is always far in advance of that in other countries. those familiar with the country will know at once that i refer to the railway restaurants. the great siberian follows the rule of excellence and abundance. there, at every station, just as on the european side of the urals, the traveller sees on entering the handsome dining-room the immense buffet loaded with freshly cooked russian dishes, always hot and steaming, and of a variety not attempted in any other land excepting at great hotels. you select what fancy and appetite dictate, without any supervision. to dine at a railway restaurant anywhere in the russian empire is one of the luxuries of travel. your dinner costs only a rouble--about two shillings, and what a dinner you secure for the money! soup, beef, sturgeon, trout, poultry, game, bear's flesh, and vegetables in profusion are supplied _ad libitum_, the visitor simply helping himself just as he pleases. i mention these little details to prove that the longest railway in the world is to push civilization with it as it goes forward. readers who will glance at any map of the new line will notice that the track runs across the upper waters of the great rivers, just about where they begin to be navigable. all through the summer, at any rate, america and england will, by the arctic passage and by these mighty rivers, communicate with the heart of asia, the railway in the far interior completing the circle of commerce. other results will follow. siberia at present contains a population of four million--less by more than a million than london reckons within its borders. millions of the russian peasantry in europe are in a condition of chronic semi-starvation. ere long thousands of these will weekly stream to the new canaan in the east. within the borders of siberia, the whole of the united states of america could be enclosed, with a great spare ring around for the accommodation of a collection of little kingdoms. in the wake of the new line towns are springing up like mushrooms. many of these will become great cities. there are several reasons for this development. the first is that the railway runs through south siberia, where the climate is delightfully mild compared with the rigorous conditions of the atmosphere further north. the next reason is that all the chief gold-fields are in this southern latitude. one characteristic worthy of note is the absolute security aimed at by the administration of the line. train and track are protected by an immense army of guards. the road is divided into sections of a verst each, a verst being about two-thirds of a mile. every section is marked by a neat cottage, the home of the guard and his family. night and day the guard or one of his household must patrol the section. a train is never out of sight of the guards, several of whom are employed wherever there are heavy curves. there are nearly , of these guards on the stretch between the urals and tomsk. all sense of solitude is thus removed from the mind of the traveller. the old post road through siberia is one of the most dangerous routes in the world, being infested by murderous "brodyags," or runaway convicts; but the siberian line is as safe as cheapside or oxford street. with the fact of perfect safety is soon blended in the mind of the observer that of plenty. all along this wonderful route grass is seen growing in rank luxuriance that can hardly be equalled in any other part of the globe, siberia being emphatically a grass-growing country. it is the original home of the whole graniferous stock. wheat is indigenous to siberia. here is the largest grazing region in existence. through this the train rolls on hour after hour, as in european russia it goes on and on through interminable birch forests. countless herds of animals in superb condition are everywhere seen roaming over these magnificent flowering steppes, over which the muscovite eagle proudly floats. parts of the great railway, however, traverse regions other than these. to make the reader understand the general characteristics of siberia and the importance of the railway in the light of these characteristics, a few words must be said about the three great zones which mainly make up the country. the first is the _tundra_, the vast region which stretches through the northern sub-arctic latitudes. this desolate belt is not less than , miles in extent. in breadth it varies from to miles. in winter the _tundra_ is, of course, one vast frozen sheet. in the brief summer it is swampy, steaming, and swarming with mosquitoes. treeless and sterile, the _tundra_ is the home of strange uncouth tribes, but it is a valuable training ground for hardy hunters. to the minds of most people the _tundra_ is siberia. this mischievous fallacy is difficult to dispel. in a few years the siberian railway will have completely dissipated it. much more valuable is the far wider zone called the _taiga_, the most wonderful belt of forest on the surface of the earth. i can testify to the profound impression of mingled mystery and delight produced on the mind by riding a thousand miles through russian forests as they still exist in european russia, where myriads of square miles in the north and centre of the land are covered by birch, spruce, larch, pine, and oak plantations. where do these forests begin and where do they have an end? that is the traveller's thought. he finds that they thicken and broaden, and deepen as they sweep in their majestic gloom across the urals, and make up for thousands of miles the grand siberian arboreal belt. in this _taiga_ the tsar possesses wealth beyond all computation; and the railway will put it actually at his disposal. the third zone, the most valuable of all, is that which mainly constitutes southern siberia. it is the region of the steppes, that endless natural garden which again makes siberia an incomparable land. sheeted with flowers, variegated by woodlands, it holds in its lap ranges of mountains, all running with fairly uniform trend from north to south, while in its heart lies the romantic and mysterious baikal, the deepest of lakes. through the spurs of the _taiga_, running irregularly through the lovely steppes, passes the new railroad, which thus taps the chief resources of the land. it will open up the forests, the arable country land, the cattle-breeding districts, and, above all, the mineral deposits. here is a fine coming opportunity for the capitalists of the world. the siberian railway starts at cheliabinsk, just across the ural mountains, which it reaches through samara on the volga from the european side, coming over the boundary hills through ufa, miass and zlatoust. shortly after leaving the latter town, which is the centre of the uralian iron industry, the train passes that pathetic "monument of tears," which marks the boundary between europe and asia. the triangular post of white marble, which thousands of weeping exiles every year embrace as they pay their sad farewell to europe, is simply inscribed on one of its three sides, "asia," on another, "europe." passing down the eastern slopes of the urals the train soon reaches cheliabinsk, running beside the isset, a tributary of the irtish, one of the main branches of the grand obi river. on leaving cheliabinsk, the traveller begins to realize that he is in siberia. in the near future this section of the line will be traversed by many an explorer and many a hunter, who will in summer come to seek fresh fields on the course of the obi, to track out towards the north the haunts of the seal, the walrus, and the white bear. the line crosses the tobol at kurgan, the ishim at patropavlosk, and the irtish at omsk, where the majestic new bridge spans a stream of two hundred yards. the three fine rivers are confluents of the obi. kurgan lies embosomed in the finest and richest, as well as the largest pasturage in the world. the magnitude of this undertaking may be imagined from the fact that the yenisei river is only reached after a ride of , miles from cheliabinsk, and then the traveller has not traversed half the distance across the continent which this railroad spans. we arrive at the main stream of the obi when the train rolls into the station at kolivan. thus tomsk, one of the chief cities of siberia, is missed, for it lies further north on the obi. in the same way does the line ignore tobolsk, the siberian capital, as it touches the irtish far south of the city. these important places will be served by branch lines. indeed, the branch to tomsk is already finished. it is eighty miles long, and runs down the tom valley northward to the city, which is the largest and most important in all siberia. tomsk will become the "hub" of asia. it lies near the centre of the new railway system. it has a telephone system, is lighted by electricity, and possesses a flourishing university with thirty professors and students. tomsk, tobolsk, and yeniseisk would be difficult to reach by the main line as they are surrounded by vast swamps, and therefore the line is thus laid considerably south of these great towns. they are accessible with ease by side lines down their respective rivers. the siberian line is designed to run through the arable lands of the fertile zone. the adjacent land will be worth countless millions of roubles to a government which has not had to pay a single copeck for it. on for many hundreds of versts rolls the train through the pasture lands of the splendid kirghiz race. the kirghiz are by far the finest of the tartars. they are a purely pastoral people, frugal, cleanly, and hospitable, living mainly on meats, and milk and cheese, the products of their herds. both for pasture and for the culture of cereals, the vast territory between the obi and the yenisei will be unrivalled in the whole world. kurgan is the capital. it will become an asiatic chicago. on the shim river, a fairly important though minor tributary of the obi, is patropavlosk, with a population already of , . it is growing rapidly, and fine buildings are springing up, in attestation of the immense influence of the new line. this city was once the frontier fortress erected by russia against the kirghiz. it was of commercial importance before the railroad was thought of, as the emporium of the brisk trade with samarkand and central asia; great camel caravans constantly reaching it. all the old towns which are traversed by the great siberian are being transformed as if by magic. from patropavlosk to omsk is a distance equal to that between london and edinburgh, about miles. new and promising villages are frequently espied in the midst of the level, fertile flowery plains, varied by great patches of cultivated land. all along the track the land is being taken up on each side, and crops are being raised. we are in the midst of the great future granary of the whole russian empire, and not of that empire alone. reaching the yenisei river, the grandest stream in siberia, the train crosses a bridge , yards in length. but some time before this a stoppage is made at the town of obb, which is a striking sample of the magical results of the railway. the whole country was till recently a scene of wild desolation. the thriving community, busy with a prosperous trade, is typical of the coming transformation of siberia. a short distance beyond irkutsk the line reaches one of the most remarkable places in the world--lake baikal. this grand lake is as long as england. it is nearly a mile deep, and covers an area of , square miles. its surface is , feet above the level of the sea. on every side it is hemmed in by lofty mountains, covered with thick forest. only a few tiny villages relieve its dreary solitude. the early russian settlers, impressed by the mystic silence and gloomy grandeur of baikal, named it the "holy sea." it abounds in fish of many species, and every season thousands of pounds' worth of salmon are caught and dried. at the north end great numbers of seals have their habitat, the buriat hunters sometimes taking as many as , in a single season. baikal is the only fresh-water sea in the world in which this animal is found. the transbaikalian section takes the line from lake baikal to the great amur river. the line gradually ascends to the crest of the yablonoi mountains, reaching a height of , feet above the sea level. this is the greatest altitude of the siberian railway. in this province of transbaikalia lies the interesting city of chita, the far-off home of the most famous and estimable socialist exiles sent from russia. from this point to the amur, where manchuria is reached, the line is carried down the pacific slope, through one of the wildest and most romantic tracks ever penetrated by railway engineers. it is not generally remembered that the great siberian railway was begun at the pacific end, and that the present tsar nicholas ii., when tsarevitch, inaugurated the colossal enterprise by laying the first stone of the eastern terminus at vladivostock, on may , . _high life in russia_ _the countess of galloway_ the russian aristocracy and plutocracy have few powers or privileges beyond that of serving their sovereign, and their position depends entirely on the will of the emperor. official rank is the only distinction, and all ranks or "tchin," as it is called, is regulated according to the army grades. by this "tchin" alone is the right of being received at court acquired. society is, therefore, subservient to the court, and occupies itself more with those whose position can best procure them what they desire than with any other ideas. the court itself is very magnificent, and its entertainments display unbounded splendour, taste, and art. in the midst of winter the whole palace is decorated for the balls with trees of camellias, dracænas and palms. the suppers seem almost to be served by magic. two thousand people sup at the same moment: they all sit down together, and all finish together in an incredibly short space of time. the palace is lit by the electric light, the tables are placed under large palm-trees, and the effect is that of a grove of palms by moonlight. at these court balls, besides the royal family of grand dukes and duchesses, with gorgeous jewels, may be seen many of the great generals and governors of the provinces who come to st. petersburg to do homage to their sovereign; a splendid-looking circassian prince, whose costume of fur and velvet is covered with chains of jewels and gold; the commander of the cossack guard, tchérévine, who watches over the emperor's safety, dressed in what resembles a well-fitting scarlet dressing-gown, with a huge scimitar in his belt sparkling with precious stones; prince dondoukoff korsakoff, the governor of the caucasus, also in cossack attire, with the beard which is the privilege of the cossack birth. m. de giers, whose civilian blue coat with gold buttons is remarkable among the numberless brilliant uniforms, talks to the ambassadors with the wearied anxious expression habitual to his countenance. the empress dances, but not the emperor; he does not sit down to supper either, but walks about, after the russian fashion of hospitality, to see that all his guests are served. [illustration: the winter palace, st. petersburg] if, to the outsider, society seems to lack the serious side, science, learning, and politics, it gains energy from its contact with men who are continually engaged in distant provinces, carrying russian rule and civilization to the conquered eastern tribes. notwithstanding the great ease and luxury, the fact that so much of the male portion is composed of officers, who wear no other clothes than their uniforms, gives something of a business-like air, and produces a sense of discipline at the entertainments. individually, the russians have much sympathy with english ways and habits, and the political antagonism between the two nations does not appear to affect their social intercourse. they are exceedingly courteous, hospitable, and friendly, throwing themselves with much zest into the occupation or amusement of the moment. in these days of rapid communication social life is much the same in every great capital. st. petersburg is a very gay society, and the great troubles underlying the fabric do not come to the surface in the daily life. there are of course representatives of all the different lines of thought and policy, and because they cannot govern themselves, it must not be supposed that they have not predilections in favour of this or that line of action. the season in st. petersburg begins on the russian new year's day, which is thirteen days late, for they adhere to what the western nations now call the old style. it lasts till lent, which the eastern church fixes also by a different calculation from the western, and during that time there are court balls twice a week and dancing at private houses nearly every other night, sundays included. private balls begin, as in london, very late and end very late. the dancing is most vigorous and animated. the specially russian dance is the mazurka, of polish origin, and very pretty and graceful. like the scotch reel, it is a series of different figures with numerous and varied steps. the music, too, is special and spirited. the supper, which is always eaten sitting down, is a great feature of the evening, and there is invariably a cotillon afterwards. the pleasantest and most sociable entertainments are the little suppers every evening, where there is no dancing, and where the menu is most _recherché_ and the conversation brilliant. the houses are well adapted for entertainments, and those we saw comfortable and luxurious as far as the owners are concerned. the bedrooms were prettily furnished, and the dressing-rooms attached fitted up with a tiled bath, hot and cold water, and numberless mirrors. the wives of the great court and state officials, as well as many other ladies, have one afternoon in the week on which they sit at home and receive visitors. there is always tea and russian bonbons, which are most excellent. what strikes an english-woman is the number of men, officers of the army, and others, who attend these "jours," as they are called in french. many of noted activity, such as general kaulbars, may be seen quietly sipping their tea and talking of the last ball to the young lady of the house. a fête given by madame polovtsoff, wife of the secrétaire de l'empire, was wonderfully conducted and organized. it took place at a villa on the islands, as that part of st. petersburg which lies between the two principal branches of the neva is called. it is to villas here that the officials can retire after the season when obliged to remain near the capital. the rooms and large conservatories were lit by electricity. at the further end of the conservatory, buried in palm-trees were the gipsies chanting and wailing their savage national songs and choruses, while the guests wandered about amongst groves of camellias, and green lawns studded with lilies-of-the-valley and hyacinths; rose-bushes in full flower at the corners. when the gipsies were exhausted, dancing began, and later there was an excellent supper in another still more spacious conservatory. the entertainment ended with a cotillon, and for the stranger its originality was only marred by the fact that it had been thawing, and the company could not arrive or depart in "_troikas_,"--sleighs with three horses which seem to fly along the glistening moonlit snow. a favourite amusement, even in winter, is racing these "_troikas_," or sleighs, with fast trotters. the races are to be seen from stands, as in england, and are only impeded by falling snow. the pretty little horses are harnessed, for trotting races, singly, to a low sleigh (in summer to a drosky) driven by one man, wearing the colours of the owner. two of these start at once in opposite directions on a circular or oblong course marked out on a flat expanse of snow and ice, which may be either land or water, as is found most convenient. it is a picturesque sight, and reminds one of the pictures of ancient chariot races on old vases and carved monuments. the character of a nation can scarcely fail to be affected by the size of the country it inhabits, and a certain indifference to time and distance is produced by this circumstance. there is also a peculiar apathy as regards small annoyances and casualties. whatever accident befalls the russian of the lower orders, his habitual remark is "_nitchivo_" ("it is nothing"). nevertheless, northern blood and a northern climate have mixed a marvellous amount of energy and enterprise with this oriental characteristic. take for example the caspian railway, undertaken by general annenkoff. this general completes fifteen hundred miles of railway in the incredibly short space of time of a year and a half, and almost before the public is aware of its having been commenced, he is back again in st. petersburg dancing at a court ball in a quadrille opposite the empress. the railway made by him runs at present from the caspian sea to the amou-daria river, and will be continued to bokhara, samarkand, and tashkend, in a northerly direction, while on the south it is to enter persia. should european complications, by removing the risk of foreign interposition, make it possible for a russian army to reach the caspian by way of the black sea and the caucasus, this railway gives it the desired approach to india. by attacking us in india, which they possibly do not desire to conquer, the panslavists and russian enthusiasts believe they would establish their empire at constantinople, and unite the whole sclav race under the dominion of the tsar. the one preponderating impression produced by a short visit to russia is an almost bewildering sense of its vastness, with an equally bewildering feeling of astonishment at the centralization of all government in the hands of the emperor. this impression is perhaps increased by the nature of the town of st. petersburg. long, broad streets, lit at night by the electric light, huge buildings, public and private, large and almost deserted places or squares, all tend to produce the reflection that the russian nation is emerging from the long ages of cimmerian darkness into which the repeated invasions of asiatic hordes had plunged it, and that it is full of the energy and aspirations belonging to a people conscious of a great future in the history of mankind. _rural life in russia_ _lady verney_ the amount of territory given up to the serfs by the emancipation act of was about one-half of the arable land of the whole empire, so that the experiment of cutting up the large properties of a country, and the formation instead of a landed peasantry, has now been tried on a sufficiently large scale for a quarter of a century to enable the world to judge of its success or failure. there is no doubt of the philanthropic intentions of alexander the first, but he seems to have also aimed (like richelieu) at diminishing the power of the nobles, which formed some bulwark between the absolute sway of the crown and the enormous dead level of peasants. the serfs belonged soul and body to the landowner: even when they were allowed to take service or exercise a trade in distant towns, they were obliged to pay a due, "_obrok_," to their owner, and to return home if required; while the instances of oppression were sometimes frightful, husbands and wives were separated, girls were sold away from their parents, young men were not allowed to marry. on the other hand, when the proprietor was kind, and rich enough not to make money of his serfs, the patriarchal form of life was not unhappy. "see now," said an old peasant, "what have i gained by the emancipation? i have nobody to go to to build my house, or to help in the ploughing time; the seigneur, he knew what i wanted, and he did it for me without any bother. now if i want a wife, i have got to go and court her myself; he used to choose for me, and he knew what was best. it is a great deal of trouble, and no good at all!" under the old arrangements three generations were often found living in one house, and the grandfather, who was called "the big one," bore a very despotic sway. the plan allowed several of the males of the family to seek work at a distance, leaving some at home to perform the "_corvêe_" (forced labour) three days a week; but the families quarrelled among themselves, and the effect of the emancipation has been to split them up into different households. a considerable portion of the serfs were not really serfs at all. they were coachmen, grooms, gardeners, gamekeepers, etc., while their wives and daughters were nurses, ladies'-maids, and domestic servants. their number was out of all proportion to their work, which was always carelessly done, but there was often great attachment to the family they served. the serfs proper lived in villages, had houses and plots of land of their own, and were nominally never sold except with the estate. the land, however, was under the dominion of the "_mir_"; they could neither use it nor cultivate it except according to the communal obligations. the outward aspect of a russian village is not attractive, and there is little choice in the surrounding country between a wide grey plain with a distance of scrubby pine forest, or the scrubby pine forest with distant grey plains. the peasants' houses are scattered up and down without any order or arrangement, and with no roads between, built of trunks of trees, unsquared, and mortised into each other at the corners, the interstices filled with moss and mud, a mode of building warmer than it sounds. in the interior there is always an enormous brick stove, five or six feet high, on which and on the floor the whole family sleep in their rags. the heat and the stench are frightful. no one undresses, washing is unknown, and sheepskin pelisses with the wool inside are not conducive to cleanliness. wood, however, is becoming very scarce, the forests are used up in fuel for railway engines, for wooden constructions of all kind, and are set fire to wastefully--in many places the peasants are forced to burn dung, weeds, or anything they can pick up--fifty years, it is said, will exhaust the peasant forests, and fresh trees are never planted. the women are more diligent than the men, and the hardest work is often turned over to them, as is generally the case in countries where peasant properties prevail. "they are only the females of the male," and have few womanly qualities. they toil at the same tasks in the field as the men, ride astride like them, often without saddles, and the mortality is excessive among the neglected children, who are carried out into the fields, where the babies lie the whole day with a bough over them and covered with flies, while the poor mother is at work. eight out of ten children are said to die before ten years old in rural russia. in the little church (generally built of wood) there are no seats, the worshippers prostrate themselves and knock their heads two or three times on the ground, and must stand or kneel through the whole service. the roof consists of a number of bulbous-shaped cupolas; four, round the central dome, in the form of a cross is the completed ideal, with a separate minaret for the virgin. these are covered with tiles of the brightest blue, green, and red, and gilt metal. the priest is a picturesque figure, with his long unclipped hair, tall felt hat largest at the top, and a flowing robe. he must be married when appointed to a cure, but is not allowed a second venture if his wife dies. until lately they formed an hereditary caste, and it was unlawful for the son of a pope to be other than a pope. they are taken from the lowest class, and are generally quite as uneducated, and are looked down upon by their flocks. "one loves the pope, and one the popess" is an uncomplimentary proverb given by gogol. "to have priests' eyes," meaning to be covetous or extortionate, is another. the drunkenness in all classes strikes russian statesmen with dismay, and the priests and the popes, are among the worst delinquents. they are fast losing the authority they once had over the serfs, when they formed part of the great political system, of which the tsar was the religious and political head. a russian official report says that "the churches are now mostly attended by women and children, while the men are spending their last kopeck, or getting deeper into debt, at the village dram shop." church festivals, marriages, christenings, burials and fairs, leave only two hundred days in the year for the russian labourer. the climate is so severe as to prevent out-of-door work for months, and the enforced idleness increases the natural disposition to do nothing. "we are a lethargic people," says gogol, "and require a stimulus from without, either that of an officer, a master, a driver, the rod, or _vodki_ (a white spirit distilled from corn); and this," he adds in another place, "whether the man be peasant, soldier, clerk, sailor, priest, merchant, seigneur or prince." at the time of the crimean war it was always believed that the russian soldier could only be driven up to an attack, such as that of inkermann, under the influence of intoxication. the russian peasant is indeed a barbarian at a very low stage of civilization. in the crimean hospitals every nationality was to be found among the patients, and the russian soldier was considered far the lowest of all. stolid, stupid, hard, he never showed any gratitude for any amount of care and attention, or seemed, indeed, to understand them; and there was no doubt that during the war he continually put the wounded to death in order to possess himself of their clothes. the greek church is a very dead form of faith, and the worship of saints of every degree of power "amounts to a fetishism almost as bad as any to be found in africa." i am myself the happy possessor of a little rude wooden bas-relief, framed and glazed, of two saints whose names i have ungratefully forgotten, to whom if you pray as you go out to commit a crime, however heinous, you take your pardon with you--a refinement upon the whipping of the saints in calabria and spanish hagiolatry. the icons, the sacred images, are hung in the chief corner, called "the beautiful," of a russian _izba_. a lamp is always lit before them, and some food spread "for the ghosts to come and eat." the well-to-do peasant is still "strict about his fasts and festivals, and never neglects to prepare for lent. during the whole year his forethought never wearies; the children pick up a number of fungi, which the english kick away as toadstools, these are dried in the sun or the oven, and packed in casks with a mixture of hot water and dry meal in which they ferment. the staple diet of the peasant consists of buckwheat, rye meal, sauerkraut, and coarse cured fish" (little, however, but black bread, often mouldy and sauerkraut, nearly putrid, is found in the generality of russian peasant homes). no milk, butter, cheese, or eggs are allowed in lent, all of which are permitted to the roman catholic, and the oil the peasant uses for his cooking is linseed instead of olive oil, which last he religiously sets aside for the lamps burning before the holy images. "to neglect fasting would cause a man to be shunned as a traitor, not only to his religion, but to his class and country." [illustration: russian farm scene.] in a bettermost household, the samovar, the tea-urn, is always going. if a couple of men have a bargain to strike, the charcoal is lighted inside the urn, which has a pipe carried into the stone chimney, and the noise of the heated air is like a roaring furnace. they will go on drinking boiling hot weak tea, in glasses, for hours, with a liberal allowance of _vodki_. the samovar, however, is a completely new institution, and the old peasants will tell you, "ah, holy russia has never been the same since we drank so much tea." the only bit of art or pastime to be found among the peasants seems to consist in the "circling dances" with songs, at harvest, christmas, and all other important festivals, as described by mr. ralston. and even here "the settled gloom, the monotonous sadness," are most remarkable. wife-beating, husbands' infidelities, horrible stories of witches and vampires, are the general subjects of the songs. the lament of the young bride who is treated almost like a slave by her father and mother-in-law, has a chorus: "thumping, scolding, never lets his daughter sleep"; "up, you slattern! up, you sloven, sluggish slut!" a wife entreats: "oh, my husband, only for good cause beat thou thy wife, not for little things. far away is my father dear, and farther still my mother." the husband who is tired of his wife sings: "thanks, thanks to the blue pitcher (_i. e._, poison), it has rid me of my cares; not that cares afflicted me, my real affliction was my wife," ending, "love will i make to the girls across the stream." next comes a wife who poisons her husband: "i dried the evil root, and pounded it small;" but in this case the husband was hated because he had killed her brother. the most unpleasant of all, however, are the invocations to _vodki_. a circle of girls imitate drunken women, and sing as they dance: "_vodki_ delicious i drank, i drank; not in a cup or a glass, but a bucketful i drank.... i cling to the posts of the door. oh, doorpost, hold me up, the drunken woman, the tipsy rogue." the account of the baba zaga, a hideous old witch, is enough to drive children into convulsions. she has a nose and teeth made of strong sharp iron. as she lies in her hut she stretches from one corner to the other, and her nose goes through the roof. the fence is made of the bones of the people she has eaten, and tipped with their skulls. the uprights of the gate are human legs. she has a broom to sweep away the traces of her passage over the snow in her seven-leagued boots. she steals children to eat them. remains of paganism are to be found in some of the sayings. a curse still existing says, "may perun (_i. e._, the lightning) strike thee." the god perun, the thunderer, resembles thor, and like him carries a hammer. he has been transformed into elijah, the prophet ilya, the rumbling of whose chariot as he rolls through heaven, especially on the week in summer when his festival falls, may be heard in thunder. there is a dismal custom by which the children are made to eat the mouldy bread, "because the rusalkas (the fairies) do not choose bread to be wasted." inhuman stories about burying a child alive in the foundation of a new town to propitiate the earth spirit; that a drowning man must not be saved, lest the water spirit be offended; that if groans or cries are heard in the forest, a traveller must go straight on without paying any attention, "for it is only the wood demon, the lyeshey," seem only to be invented as excuses for selfish inaction. wolves bear a great part in the stories. a peasant driving in a sledge with three children is pursued by a pack of wolves: he throws out a child, which they stop to devour; then the howls come near him again, and he throws out a second; again they return, when the last is sacrificed; and one is grieved to hear that he saves his own wretched cowardly life at last. the emancipation was doubtless a great work. twenty million serfs belonging to private owners, and , , more, the serfs of the crown were set free. they had always, however, considered the communal land as in one sense their own. "we are yours but the land is ours," was the phrase. the act was received with mistrust and suspicion, and the owners were supposed to have tampered with the good intentions of the tsar. land had been allotted to each peasant family sufficient, as supposed, for its support, besides paying a fixed yearly sum to government. much of it, however, is so bad that it cannot be made to afford a living and pay the tax, in fact a poll tax, not dependent on the size of the strip, but on the number of the souls. the population in russia has always had a great tendency to migrate, and serfdom in past ages is said to have been instituted to enable the lord of the soil to be responsible for the taxes. "it would have been impossible to collect these from peasants free to roam from archangel to the caucasus, from st. petersburg to siberia." it was therefore necessary to enforce the payments from the village community, the mir, which is a much less merciful landlord than the nobles of former days, and constantly sells up the defaulting peasant. the rule of the mir is strangely democratic in so despotic an empire. the government never interferes with the communes if they pay their taxes, and the ignorant peasants of the rural courts may pass sentences of imprisonment for seven days, inflict twenty strokes with a rod, impose fines, and cause a man who is pronounced "vicious or pernicious" to be banished to siberia. the authority of the mir, of the starosta, the whiteheads, the chief elders, seems never to be resisted, and there are a number of proverbs declaring "what the mir decides must come to pass"; "the neck and shoulders of the mir are broad"; "the tear of the mir is cold but sharp." each peasant is bound hand and foot by minute regulations; he must plough, sow and reap only when his neighbours do, and the interference with his liberty of action is most vexatious and very injurious. the agriculture enforced is of the most barbarous kind. jensen, professor of political economy at moscow, says: "the three-field system--corn, green crops and fallow--which was abandoned in europe two centuries ago, has most disastrous consequences here. the lots are changed every year, and no man has any interest in improving property which will not be his in so short a time. hardly any manure is used, and in many places the corn is threshed out by driving horses and wagons over it. the exhaustion of the soil by this most barbarous culture has reached a fearful pitch." the size of the allotments varies extremely in the different climates and soils, and the country is so enormous that the provinces were divided into zones to carry out the details of the emancipation act--the zone without black soil; the zone with black soil; and, third, the great steppe zone. in the first two the allotments range from two and two-thirds to twenty acres, in the steppes from eight and three-quarters to thirty-four and one-third. "whether, however," says jensen, "the peasants cultivate their land as proprietors at _s_. _d_. or hire it at _s_. _d_. the result is the same--the soil is scourged and exhausted, and semi-starvation has become the general feature of peasant life." usury is the great nightmare of rural russia, at present, an evil which seems to dog the peasant proprietor in all countries alike. the "gombeen man" is fast getting possession of the little irish owners. a man who hires land cannot borrow on it; the little owner is tempted always to mortgage it at a pinch. in russia he borrows to the outside of its value to pay the taxes and get in his crop. "the bondage labourers," _i. e._, men bound to work on their creditor's land as interest for money lent, receive no wages and are in fact a sort of slaves. they repay their extortioners by working as badly as they can--a "level worst," far inferior to that of the serfs of old, they harvest three and a half or four stacks of corn where the other peasants get five. the koulaks and mir-eaters, and other usurers, often of peasant origin, exhaust the peasant in every way; they then foreclose the mortgages, unite the small pieces of land once more, and reconstitute large estates. a koulak is not to be trifled with; he finds a thousand occasions for revenge; the peasant cannot cheat the jew as he does the landlord, and is being starved out--the mortality is enormous. the peasant class comprises five-sixths of the whole population--a stolid, ignorant, utterly unprogressive mass of human beings. they have received in gift nearly half the empire for their own use, and cling to the soil as their only chance of existence. they consequently dread all change, fearing that it should endanger this valuable possession. a dense solid stratum of unreasoning conservatism thus constitutes the whole basis of russian society backed by the most corrupt set of officials to be found in the whole world. the middle and upper classes are often full of ardent wishes for the advancement of society and projects for the reform of the state. these are generally of the wildest and most terrible description, but their objects are anything but unreasonable. they desire to share in political power and the government of their country, as is the privilege of every other nation in europe, and they hope to do something for the seething mass of ignorance and misery around them. the nihilists have an ideal at least of good, and the open air of practical politics would probably get rid of the unhealthy absurdities and wickedness of their creeds. but the russian peasant cares neither for liberty nor politics, neither for education, nor cleanliness, nor civilization of any kind. his only interest is to squeeze just enough out of his plot of ground to live upon and get drunk as many days in the year as possible.[ ] with such a base to the pyramid as is constituted by the peasant proprietors of russia, aided by the enormous army, recruited almost to any extent from among their ranks, whose chief religion is a superstitious reverence for the "great father," the tsar is safe in refusing all concessions, all improvements; and the hopeless nature of russian reform hitherto, mainly hangs upon the conviction of the government that nothing external can possibly act upon this inert mass. "great is stupidity, and shall prevail." but surely not forever! [footnote : "when god created the world he made different nations and gave them all sorts of good things--land, corn and fruit. then he asked them if they were satisfied, and they all said 'yes' except the russian, who had got as much as the rest, but simpered 'please lord, some _vodki_.'"--_russian popular tale_.] _food and drink_ _h. sutherland edwards_ the essential point in the service of the russian dinner is--as is now generally known throughout europe--that the dishes should be handed round instead of being placed on the table, which is covered throughout the meal with flowers, fruit, and the whole of the dessert. one advantage of this plan is, that it makes the dinner-table look well; another, that it renders the service more rapid, and saves much trouble to the host. the dishes are brought in one by one; or two at a time, and of the same kind, if a large number are dining. the ordinary wines are on the table, and nothing has to be changed except the plates. at the end of dinner, as the cloth is not removed, the dessert is ready served; and this has always been one of the great glories of a russian banquet. "i was particularly struck," says archdeacon coxe, "with the quantity and quality of the fruit which made its appearance in the dessert. pines, peaches, apricots, grapes, pears, and cherries, none of which can in this country be obtained without the assistance of hot-houses,[ ] were served," he tells us, "in the greatest profusion. there was a delicious species of small melon, which had been sent by land-carriage from astrakhan to moscow--a distance of a thousand miles. these melons," he adds, "sometimes cost five pounds apiece, and at other times may be purchased in the markets of moscow for less than half-a-crown apiece." one "instance of elegance" which distinguished the dessert, and which appears to have made an impression on the archdeacon, is then mentioned. "at the upper and lower ends of the table were placed two china vases, containing cherry-trees in full leaf, and fruit hanging on the boughs which was gathered by the company." this cherry-tree is also a favourite, and certainly a very agreeable ornament, in the present day. at the conclusion of the dessert coffee is served as in france and england. men and women leave the table together, and after dinner no wine is taken. later in the evening tea is brought in, with biscuits, cakes, and preserved fruits. [footnote : that is to say, not in the winter. in the summer, pears and cherries abound in moscow, and every kind of fruit ripens in the south.] the reception-rooms in russian houses are all _en suite_; and instead of doors you pass from room to room through arches hung with curtains. the number of the apartments in most of the houses i remember varied from three to six or seven; but in the clubs and in large mansions there are more. grace before or after dinner is never said under any circumstances; but all the guests make the sign of the cross before sitting down to table, usually looking at the same time towards the eastern corner of the room, where the holy image hangs. this ceremony is never omitted in families, though in the early part of the century, when the gallomania was at its height, it is said to have been much neglected. in club dinners, when men are dining alone, it will be easily believed that the same importance is not attached to it; but the custom may be described as almost universal among the rich, and quite universal among the poor. indeed, a peasant or workman would not on any account eat without first making the sign of the cross. in russia, with its "patriarchal" society (as the russians are fond of saying), it is usual to thank the lady of the house, either by word or gesture, after dining at her table; and those who are sufficiently intimate kiss her hand. [illustration: the tsar's dining-room, moscow.] we now come to the composition of the russian dinners; and here i must repeat with archdeacon coxe, that although the russians have adopted many of the delicacies of french cookery, they "neither affect to despise their native dishes nor squeamishly reject the solid joints which characterize our own repasts." i was astonished, at one russian dinner, which i was assured was thoroughly national in style, to meet with the homely roast leg of mutton and baked potatoes of my native land. like the english, the russians take potatoes with nearly every dish--either plain boiled, fried, or with parsley and butter over them. plum-pudding, too, and boiled rice-pudding with currants in it, and with melted butter, are known in russia--at all events in moscow and st. petersburg; and goose is not considered complete without apple-sauce. as in france, every dinner begins with soup; but this custom has not been borrowed from the french. it seems to date from time immemorial, for all the russian peasants, a thoroughly stationary class, take their soup daily. the russians are very successful with some kinds of pickles, such as salted cucumbers and mushrooms; and they excel in salads, composed not only of lettuce, endive, and beetroot, but also of cherries, grapes, and other fruits, preserved in vinegar. the fruit is always placed at the top, and has a very picturesque effect in the midst of the green leaves. altogether it may be said that the russian _cuisine_ is founded on a system of eclecticism, with a large number of national dishes for its base. of course, in some russian houses, as in some english ones, the cooking is nearly all in the french style; but even then there are always a few dishes on the table that might easily be recognized as belonging to the country. we need scarcely remark, that only very rich persons dine every day in the sumptuous style described by archdeacon coxe, though the rule as to service may be said to be general--one dish at a time, and nothing on the table but flowers and the dessert. in the winter, when it is difficult and expensive to get dessert, those who are rich send for it where it _can_ be obtained--perhaps to their own hot-houses; and those who are not rich, as in other countries, go without. at the _traktirs_, or _restaurants_, the usual dinner supplied for three-quarters of a rouble consists of soup, with a pie of mince-meat, or minced vegetables, an _entrée_, roast meat, and some kind of sweet. that, too, may be considered the kind of dinner which persons of moderate means have every day at home. rich proprietors, who keep a head-cook, a roaster, a pastry-cook, and two or three assistant-cooks, would perhaps despise so moderate a repast; but from a little manual of cookery which a friend has been kind enough to send me from russia, it would appear that the generality of persons do not have more than four dishes at each meal. the most ancient and popular drinks in russia are hydromel or mead (called by the same name in russia), beer, and _kvass_. mead, the fine old scandinavian drink, is mentioned as far back as the tenth century; and in a chronicle of novgorod of the year , it is stated that "a great festival took place, at which a hundred and twenty thousand pounds of honey were consumed." hydromel is flavoured with various kinds of spices and fermented with hops. gerebtzoff states that beer is mentioned (under the name of _oloul_--the present word being _pivo_) in the _book of ranks_, written in the eleventh and twelfth centuries. but no drink is so ancient as _kvass_, which, according to the chronicle of nestor, was in use among the sclavonians in the first century of our era. among the laws of yaroslaff there is an old edict determining the quantity of malt to be furnished for making _kvass_ to workmen engaged in building a town. the russians learnt to drink wine from the greeks, during their frequent intercourse with the eastern empire, long before the mongol invasion. during the tartar domination there was less communication with constantinople and the consumption of wine decreased, but it became greater again during the period of the tsars. in the beginning of the seventeenth century wine was supplied to ambassadors, but the russians for the most part still preferred their native drinks. the cultivation of the vine was introduced at astrakhan in , and a german traveller named strauss, who visited the city in , found that it had been attended with great success; so much so, that, without counting what was sold in the way of general trade, the province supplied to the tsar alone every year two hundred tuns of wine, and fifty tuns of grape brandy. the wines of greece were at the same time replaced by those of hungary, which were in great demand when peter came and introduced the vintage of france. this by many persons will be considered not the least of his reforms. the russians acquired the art of distilling from grain in the fourteenth century from the genoese established in the crimea, and seem to have lost no time in profiting by their knowledge. they soon began to invent infusions of fruit and berries, which under the name of "_nalivka_" have long been known to travellers, and which i for my part found excellent. "_raki_," about the consumption of which by the russian soldiers so much was written during the crimean war, is a turkish spirit, and is unknown in russia. the russian grain-spirit is called "_vodka_." the best qualities are more like the best whiskey than anything else, only weaker; but it is of various degrees of excellence as of price. the new common _vodka_, like other new spirits, is fiery; but when purified, and kept for some time, it is excellent and particularly mild. travellers to moscow who are curious on the subject of _vodka_ may visit a gigantic distillery in the neighbourhood, to which it is easy to gain admission, and where they can obtain information and samples in abundance. _vodka_ is sometimes made in imitation of brandy, and there are also sweet and bitter _vodkas_; and, indeed, _vodka_ of all flavours. but the british spirit which the ordinary _vodka_ chiefly resembles is whiskey. there is one curious custom connected with drinking in russia which, as far as i am aware, has never been noticed. the russians drink first and eat afterwards, and never drink without eating. if wine and biscuits are placed on the table, everyone takes a glass of wine first, and then a biscuit; and at the _zakouska_ before dinner, those who take the customary glass of _vodka_ take an atom of caviare or cheese after it, but not before. it may also be remarked that, as a general rule, the russians, like the orientals, drink only at the beginning of a repast. a hospitable englishman entertaining a russian, on seeing him eat after drinking, would press him to drink again, and having drunk a second time, the russian would eat once more on his own account; which would involve another invitation to drink on the part of the englishman. as a hospitable russian, on the other hand, entertaining an englishman, would endeavour to prevail upon him to eat after drinking, and as it is the englishman's habit to drink after eating, it is easy to see that too much attention on either side might lead to very unfortunate results. a great deal is said about the enormous quantity of champagne consumed in russia. champagne, however, costs five roubles (from sixteen to seventeen shillings) a bottle--the duty alone amounting to one rouble a bottle--and is only drunk habitually by persons of considerable means. nor does the champagne bottle go round so frequently at russian as at english dinners. it is usually given, as in france, with the pastry and dessert, and no other wine is taken after it. the rich merchants are said to drink champagne very freely at their evening entertainments; but the only merchant at whose house i dined had, unfortunately, adopted western manners, and gave nothing during the evening but tea. however, at festivals and celebrations of all kinds--whether of congratulation, of welcome, or of farewell--champagne is indispensable. what alphonse karr says of women and their toilette--that they regard every event in life as an occasion for a new dress--may certainly be paraphrased and applied to the russians in connection with champagne. besides the champagne which is given as a matter of course at dinner-parties and balls, there must be champagne at birthdays, champagne at christenings, champagne at, or in honour of, betrothals, champagne in abundance at weddings, champagne at the arrival of a friend, and champagne at his departure. for those who cannot afford veritable champagne, russian viniculture supplies an excellent imitation in the shape of "_donskoi_" and "_crimskoi_,"--the wines of the don and of the crimea. as "_donskoi_" costs only a fifth of the price of real champagne, it will be understood that it is not seldom substituted for the genuine article, both by fraudulent wine merchants and economic hosts. however, it is a true wine, and far superior to the fabrications of hamburg, which, under the name of champagne, find their way all over the north of europe. it has often been said that the russians drink champagne merely because it is dear. but the fact is, they have a liking for all effervescing drinks, and naturally, therefore, for champagne, the best of all. among the effervescing drinks peculiar to russia, we may mention apple _kvass, kislya shchee_, and _voditsa. kislya shchee_ is made out of two sorts of malt, three sorts of flour, and dried apples; in apple _kvass_ there are more apples and less malt and flour. _voditsa_ (a diminutive of _voda_, water), is made of syrup, water, and a little spirit. all these summer-drinks are bottled and kept in the ice-house. _carnival-time and easter_ _a. nicol simpson_ lent is heralded by carnival, called by russians "maslanitza"--the "_butter wochen_" of the germans. _maslanitza_ is held during the eighth week preceding easter, the fast proper is observed during the intervening seven weeks. during maslanitza every article of diet, flesh excepted, is allowed to be partaken of, but over-indulgence in other articles, including drinks, is not forbidden. carnival commences on sunday at noon and continues till the close of the succeeding sunday. the salutation during the week is "_maslanitza_," or "_sherokie maslanitza_," "_sherokie_" meaning, literally "broad," indicating a full amount of pleasure, and the facial expression accompanying this salutation shows plainly that unrestrained enjoyment is the aim and object for the week. upon the discharge of the time gun at noon, there emerge from all parts of the city tiny sleighs driven by peasants, chiefly finns, who for the time are allowed to ply for hire by the payment of a nominal tax imposed by the police or city corporation. most of these finns are unable to speak russian intelligibly, although living at no great distance from the capital. it is said that from , to , of these jehus come annually to st. petersburg for _maslanitza_, and they add materially to the gaiety of the city as they drive along the streets. these finns are mostly patronized by the working-classes, for the simple reason that their charges are lower than the ordinary _isvozchick_, or cabby. during the festivities the great centre of attraction for the working population is the "marco polo," or "champ de mars," an immense plain on the banks of the neva. here a huge fair is held, with the usual assortment of stalls, loaded with sweetmeats and similar dainties. actors from the city theatres are upon the ground, with smaller booths where the stage-struck hero acts the leading part. there are dwarfs, fat women, giants, and the renowned ubiquitous punch and judy, merry-go-rounds, card-sharpers, cheap-jacks, and a medley crowd of men and women all catering for the roubles of the crowd. what are termed the "ice-hills" are perhaps the most attractive feature of the gathering. in the city feasting and visiting are the order of the day. there is no limit to the consumption of "_bleenies_," a kind of pancake made of buckwheat flour, and eaten with butter sauce or fresh caviare, according to the circumstances of the families. morn, noon, and night _bleenies_ are cooked and eaten by the dozen, moistened, of course, with the indispensable _vodka_ or native gin, which is distilled from rye. when midnight of the second sunday arrives, all gaieties are supposed to vanish, and a subdued and demure aspect must be assumed, and the form of congratulation between friends and acquaintances is--"_pozdravlin vam post_," or "i congratulate you on the fast." the church bells toll mournfully at brief intervals from or a. m., when early mass is celebrated until about p. m., when evening service closes. before the passion--like the jews, who at passover search diligently for and cast out the old leaven--the russian housewife likewise searches out every corner, most remorselessly sweeps from its hiding-place every particle of dust. everything is done to make the house and its contents fit to meet a risen saviour. the streets, always very clean, receive special attention, even the lamp-posts are carefully washed down and the kerbs sanded. everything that will clean has brush and soap-and-water applied to it. the reason of this is the belief that our saviour invisibly walks about the earth for forty days after easter, that is, until ascension day. on the thursday of passion week "_strashnaya nedelli_," _i. e._, "_terrible week_," is enacted in a very realistic fashion one of the last acts of our saviour--"the washing of the disciples' feet." after the close of the second diet of worship at st. isaac's cathedral this ceremony is performed. the most important day of the week is that of "_strashnaya piatnitsa_," or good friday, when the burial of our lord is enacted before the people in a truly solemn and impressive manner. in every church there is a sarcophagus in imitation of our saviour's tomb, and many of these sarcophagi are of elaborate workmanship with gorgeous gilt and otherwise ornamented. the lid is adorned with a painting representing our saviour in death. at dawn this lid is carried into the chapel, and by p. m. the sarcophagus is in its place on the daïs ready to receive the body of our lord. shortly before the service is concluded, all the worshippers have their tapers lighted, the flame being procured from a candelabrum in front of the sacred icon. this is done by those nearest to the candelabrum lighting their tapers, while those behind them get the sacred flame from them, and in this way all get their tapers lit. many endeavour to carry their burning tapers home, so that they may have the holy flame in their dwellings. [illustration: st. isaac's cathedral, st. petersburg.] leaving the chapel the crowd musters in the street. then there emerges a church dignitary bearing a large brightly-burnished crucifix, followed by others bearing bannerettes and other symbols, the names and uses of which are to us a mystery. last of all come forth four priests, clad in their gorgeous canonical vestments, bearing the lid of the sarcophagus which is supported on brass rods. under the lid walks an aged priest clad in his clerical vestments, representing the dead christ being carried to his tomb. slowly, sadly, and reverently he is borne to the tomb, the worshippers crossing themselves most devoutly. a sudden rush is made for the church to witness the interment, the big bell meanwhile tolling mournfully as the procession moves on. the sad procession enters the church, and, going up to where the sarcophagus is placed with all the external appearances of love, mourning, and lamentation, the lid is placed on the sarcophagus and the last obsequies of the crucified "christ" are over. preparations are now industriously made for the due celebration of the resurrection morn. shopping, shopping, shopping goes on without intermission. those who can, prepare to adorn their bodies with one or more articles of new clothing, but all make preparations for a sumptuous feast. it is interesting to watch the shops, especially in the public markets, to see the avidity with which every article of food is bought up. the butchers come in, perhaps, for the largest share of custom, as flesh, especially smoked ham, is in universal demand. ham among all classes of the community is indispensable for the breaking of the fast and the due celebration of the feast. dyed eggs are in universal request. the exchange of eggs, accompanied with kissing on the lips and cheeks in the form of the cross, accompanies all gifts or exchange. the _koolitch_ and _paska_ have also to be bought. the _koolitch_ is a sweet kind of wheaten bread, circular in form, in which there are raisins. it is ornamented with candied sugar and usually has the easter salutation on it: "_christos vozkress_"--"christ is risen"--the whole surmounted with a large gaudy red-paper rose. the _paska_ is made of cords, pyramidal in shape, and contains a few raisins, and, like the former, has also a paper rose inserted on the top. these are the _sine qua non_ for the due observance of easter, but what relation they may have, if any, to the jewish feast of the passover, it is difficult to see, although in many other respects there is a striking resemblance to the service of the temple in jerusalem in the ritual of the russo-greek church. the _koolitch_ and _paska_ and dyed eggs are brought to, but not into, the church on the saturday evening. some have burning tapers inserted into them, while a pure white table napkin is spread on the ground, or on benches specially provided for the purpose, awaiting the priests' blessing. the hours for this purpose are six, eight, and ten o'clock. the priests sprinkle the _koolitch, paska_, and dyed eggs at these hours, those to whom they belong slipping a silver or copper coin into his hand as a reward for his services. these articles are then carried home, and along with the other necessities for the feast are laid out on a table, there to lie untouched till the resurrection of the "saviour" is an accomplished fact. meanwhile the lessons are being read over the tomb of "christ," and the devotees, still in large numbers, kiss his face and feet. about p. m. the sarcophagus is wheeled to its usual place in the church, where it remains until the following easter. all the churches by this time are densely packed with worshippers, silently waiting with eager expectancy the time when their "saviour" will break the bonds of death and rise from the tomb in which he has now lain for three days. as if by magic, everyone has lighted his or her taper, and looks anxiously towards the altar-screen, where preparations are being made by the priests to go to joseph of arimathea's garden, as the disciples and women did of old to visit the tomb where christ was buried. this they do by forming a procession with the crucifix, bannerettes, etc., each carrying a lighted candle in his hand. there is a rush among the worshippers to join the procession. they walk thrice round the church, searching diligently by the aid of their candles for "christ," and not finding him, they go to bring the disciples word that he is risen from the dead. when the procession enters the threshold of the church, the royal gates are thrown back, suddenly displaying a marvellously beautiful stained glass window, and all eyes behold an enchanting representation of the saviour in the act of rising from the cold grave. the priests with the choristers, as they enter the church, proclaim in joyful tones, "_christos vozkress_" ("christ is risen"), the response being "_voestenno vozkress_" ("truly he is risen"). it is really a jubilant song of praise they sing--the finely trained voices of the choir and priests, joined with those of the worshippers, making it most impressive. every face in the vast crowd bears the joyous expression of gladness, for to these men and women a really dead christ has risen, and is now invisibly in their midst. relatives and friends kiss each other and shake hands, and the salutation, "_christos vozkress_," with the refrain, "_voestenno vozkress_," is heard on every side. the officiating priest begins the usual early morning service (celebrated on ordinary sundays at a. m.), which continues until nearly three o'clock, when the churches are closed for the day. immediately after midnight a salute of one hundred and one guns is given from the fortress to greet the sacred morn. the whole city is stirred as the loud peal of cannon reverberates, proclaiming to the faithful that christ is indeed risen from the dead. some few worshippers remain in church until the early service is over, but the majority retire to their homes to tender the greetings of the day. then families and friends assemble at the domestic board that groans under a load of the good things of this life, according to their circumstances, and to make reparation to their stomachs for the privation they have endured during the seven weeks of lent. and full compensation their stomachs get, as the feast is a literal gorge of meat and drink. ham is on the table of prince and peasant alike, and it is first partaken of. the table of the rich is spread with all gastronomical luxuries, _vodka_ and wines, cold roast beef, eggs, etc. these dainties remain on the table for several days; indeed a free table is kept, and all who call to congratulate are expected to partake of the hospitality. not to do so is regarded in the light of an insult. on easter sunday only gentlemen pay visits of congratulation; ladies remain at home for that day to receive and entertain visitors. presents are dispensed to domestic and other servants. a good drink is as indispensable to the feast among the peasant class as a good feed, and they neither deny themselves the one nor the other, their potations lasting for several days. to the western mind the continual kissing and giving of eggs on the streets appear strangely out of keeping with the solemnity of the hour. to see a couple of bearded men hugging and kissing each other and each other's wives on the public streets, with the salutation, "_christos vozkress_," is indeed peculiar. but use and wont justify this, and it would be a breach of courtesy to withhold the lips and cheeks, and would be regarded as indicating indifference to the great feast of the church. present-giving, although on somewhat similar lines to our christmas greetings, is a much heavier tax on a russian household than christmas gifts are with us. in the ordinary house in st. petersburg, the master, on gaining his breakfast-room, is saluted by his domestic servant with "_prazdnik_ (holiday), _christos vozkress_," which involves a new dress for the female, or a money equivalent. then the _dvorniks_, or house-porters, resplendent in clean white aprons, make their appearance, giving the usual salutation, and one or two roubles must be given. they have scarcely vanished when a couple of chimney-sweepers put in an appearance, necessitating another appeal to the purse; postmen follow, and in their rear come the juvenile representatives of your butcher, greengrocer, etc., all bent upon testing your liberality. you go to church and the doorkeeper gravely says, "_christos vozkress_," while he of the cloak-room echoes the sentiment to the impoverishment of one's exchequer. but this seeming mendicancy is not confined to these classes, for even the reverend fathers and brethren walk in the same footsteps unblushingly. either on foot or by carriage they call upon the well-to-do of their church, give the usual salutation, "_christos vozkress_," and the kiss, partake of the general hospitality, and get their gratuity or "_na chai_," as it is called, and retire. they are scarcely gone when the "_staroste_," or elders, put in an appearance, followed by the "_pyefche_," or choristers, all of whom share in the bounty and hospitality of those on whom they call. the priests, of course, come in for the largest share, and, generally speaking, they know the value of the adage, "first come first served." at mid-day of easter sunday a salute is fired from the fortress, and carnival begins again. it is a repetition of the same amusements as in carnival before lent, and continues until the following sunday evening. _russian tea and tea-houses_ _h. sutherland edwards_ a true russian _restaurant_, or _traktir_ (probably from the french _traiteur_), is not to be found in st. petersburg, whose _cafés_ and _restaurants_ are either german or french, or imitated from german or french models. one of the large moscow _traktirs_ is not only very much larger, but at least twelve times larger than an ordinary french _café_. the best of them is the troitzkoi _traktir_, where the merchants meet to complete the bargains they have commenced on the exchange--that is to say--in the street beneath, where all business is carried on, summer and winter, in the open air. st. petersburg is more fortunate, and has a regular bourse, with a chapel attached to it. the merchants always enter this chapel before commencing their regular afternoon's work ('change is held at four o'clock in st. petersburg), and remain for several minutes at their devotions, occasionally offering a candle to the virgin or some saint. now and then it must happen that a speculator for the rise and a speculator for the fall enter the chapel and commence their orisons at the same time. probably they pray that they may not be tempted to cheat one another. there is no special chapel for the moscow merchants, nor is there one attached to the troitzkoi _traktir_, which i am inclined to look upon after all as the real moscow exchange. but in each of the rooms, of which the entrances as usual are arched, and which together form an apparently interminable suite, the indispensable holy picture is to be seen; and no russian goes in or out without making the sign of the cross. no russian, to whatever class he may belong, remains for a moment with his hat on in any inhabited place; whether out of compliment to those who inhabit it, or from respect to the holy pictures, or from mixed reasons. the waiters, of whom there are said to be a hundred and fifty at the troitzkoi _traktir_, are all dressed in white, and it is facetiously asserted that they are forbidden to sit down during the day for fear of disturbing the harmony and destroying the purity of their spotless linen. the service is excellent. the waiters watch and divine the wishes of the guests, instead of the guests having to watch, seek, and sometimes scream for the waiters, as is too often the case in england. here the attendants do everything for the visitor; cut up his _pirog_ (meat, or fish patty), so that he may eat it with his fork; pour out his tea, fill his _chibouk_, and even bring it to him ready lighted. the reader perceives that there is a certain oriental style about the russian _traktirs_. the great article of consumption in them is tea. every one orders tea, either by itself, or to follow the dinner; and the majority of those who come into the place take nothing else. you can have a tumbler of tea, or a pot of tea; but in ordering it you do not ask for tea at all, but for so many portions of sugar. the origin of this curious custom it is scarcely worth while to consider; but it apparently dates from the last european war, when, during the general blockade, the price of sugar in russia rose to about four shillings a pound. all sorts of stories have been told about the quantity of tea consumed by russian merchants, nor do i look upon any of them as exaggerated. from twelve to twenty cups are thought nothing of. i have seen two merchants enter a _traktir_, order so many portions of sugar, and drink cup after cup of tea, until the tea-urn before them is empty; yet the ordinary tea-urn of the _traktir_ holds at least a gallon, or a gallon and a half. "tea," says m. gerebtzoff, "has become, for every one, an habitual article of consumption, and replaces, advantageously for morality, brandy and beer; for on all occasions when a bargain has to be concluded, or when a companion has to be entertained, or on receiving or taking leave of a friend, tea is given instead of wine or brandy." indeed, i not only observed that in the moscow _traktirs_ nearly every one drank tea, but that it was a favourite beverage with all classes on all occasions. the middle and upper classes take tea twice or three times a day,--always in the morning, and often twice in the evening. the _isvostchik_, who formerly had a reputation for drunkenness, which travellers of the present day continue to ascribe to him, appears to prefer tea to every other drink. such, at least, was my experience; and his mode of asking for a _pour boire_ seems to confirm it. some years since travellers used to tell us of the _isvostchik_ asking at the end of his drive for _vodka_ money ("_na votkou_"); at present the invariable request is for tea-money ("_na tchai_"). even in roadside inns, where i have seen from twelve to twenty coachmen and postilions sitting down together, nothing but tea was being drunk. a well-known tourist has told us that every russian peasant possesses a tea-urn, or _samovar_; but this is not the case. the majority of the peasants are too poor to afford such a luxury as tea, except on rare occasions, but a tea-urn is one of the first objects that a peasant who has saved a little money buys; and it is true, that in some prosperous villages there is a samovar in every hut; and in all the post-houses and inns each visitor is supplied with a separate one. [illustration: st. anne restaurant, wiborg.] the samovar, which, literally, means "self-boiler," is made of brass lined with tin, with a tube in the centre. in fact, it resembles the english urn, except that in the centre-tube red-hot cinders are placed instead of the iron heater. of course, the charcoal, or _braise_, has to be ignited in a back kitchen or court-yard; for in a room the carbonic acid proceeding from it would prove injurious. it has no advantage then, whatever, over the english urn, except that it can be heated with facility in the open air, with nothing but some charcoal, a few sticks of thin dry wood, and a lucifer; hence its value at picnics, where it is considered indispensable. in the woods of sakolniki, in the gardens of marina roschia, and in the grounds adjoining the petrovski palace, all close to moscow, large supplies of samovars are kept at the tea-houses, and each visitor, or party of visitors, is supplied with one. indeed, the quantity of tea consumed at these suburban retreats in the spring and summer is prodigious. in russia there is no interval between winter and spring. as soon as the frost breaks up the grass sprouts, the trees blossom, and all nature is alive. in that country of extremes there is sometimes as much difference between april and may as there is in england between january and june. the summer is celebrated by various promenades to the country, which take place at easter, on the first of may, ascension day, trinity sunday, and other occasions. the great majority of these promenades are of a festive nature, but some, like that which is made on the th of may to the monastery and cemetery of the don, have a penitential, or, at least, a mournful character. the samovar, however, is present even in the churchyard. i never joined in one of the funeral pilgrimages to the donskoi convent; but in other cemeteries outside moscow and st. petersburg (intramural burial not being tolerated), i noticed that the custodians kept in their lodges a supply of samovars for the benefit of visitors. and, after all, what can be more appropriate than an urn in a cemetery? between st. petersburg and kovno or tauroggen, there are upwards of fifty "stations," at each of which tea can be procured. travellers whose route does not lie along the government post-roads, take samovars with them in their carnages; and small samovars that can be packed into the narrowest compass are made for the use of officers starting on a campaign, and other persons likely to find themselves in places where it may be difficult to procure hot water. small tea-caddies are also manufactured with a similar object. each caddy contains one or more glasses; for men among themselves usually drink their tea, not out of tea-cups, but out of tumblers. not many years since it was the fashion to give cups to women and tumblers to men in the evening; but the tumbler is gradually being banished, at least from the drawing-room. the russians never take milk in their tea; they take either cream, or a slice of lemon or preserved fruit, or simply sugar without the addition of anything else. they hold that milk spoils tea, and they are right. tea with lemon or preserves (forming a kind of tea-punch, well worthy the attention of tea-totallers), is only taken in the evening. sometimes the men add rum. _how russia amuses itself_ _fred whishaw_ if i were asked to state what a russian schoolboy does with his spare time after working hours are over, i should be much puzzled what to say. unfortunately young russia has not the faintest glimmering of knowledge of the practice or even of the existence of such things as football, cricket, fives, rackets, golf, athletic sports, hockey, or any other of the numerous pastimes which play so important a part in the life of every schoolboy in this merry land of england. therefore there is no question, for him, of staying behind at the school premises after working hours, in order to take part in any game. he goes home; that much is certain; most of his time is loafed away--that, too, is beyond question. he may skate a little, perhaps, in the winter, if he happens to live near a skating ground, but he will not go far for it; and in the summer, which is holiday time for him, from june to september, he walks up and down the village street clothed in white calico garments, or plays cup and ball in the garden; fishes a little, perhaps, in the river or pond if there happen to be one, and lazies his time away without exertion. of late years "lorteneece," as lawn-tennis is called in the tsar's country has been slightly attempted; but it is not really liked: too many balls are lost and the rules of the game have never yet been thoroughly grasped. a quartette of men will occasionally rig up their net, which they raise to about the height of a foot and a half, and play a species of battledore and shuttlecock over it until the balls disappear; but it is scarcely tennis. as a matter of fact, a russian generally rushes at the ball and misses it; on the rare occasions when he strikes the object, he does so with so much energy that the ball unless stopped by the adversary's eye, or his partner's, disappears forever into "the blue." croquet is a mild favourite, too; but it is played very languidly and unscientifically. most gardens in russian country houses contain a swing, a rotting horizontal bar for the gymnastically (and suicidally) inclined, and a giant stride. occasionally there is a flower-bed in the centre, in which our dear old british friend the rhubarb, monopolizes the space, and makes a good show as an ornamental plant; for he is not known in that benighted country as a comestible, though, of course, children are acquainted with and hate him in his medicinal capacity. besides the swings and the rhubarb, there are sand or gravel paths; and built out over the dusty road is an open summer-house, wherein the muscovitish householder and his ladies love to sit and sip their tea for the greater part of each day--this being their acme of happiness. the dust may lie half-an-inch thick over the surface of their tea and bread and butter, but this does not detract from the delights of the fascinating occupation. i should point out that in all i have said above, i refer not so much to the highest or to the lowest classes of russian society, as to that middle stratum to which belong the families of the _chinovnik_, of the infantry officer, or the well-to-do merchant. the aristocracy amuse themselves very much in the same way as our own. they shoot, they loaf and play cards in their clubs, they butcher pigeons out of traps, they have their race-meetings, they dance much and well; some have yachts of their own. many of them keep english grooms, and their english--when they speak it--for this reason smacks somewhat of the stable, though they are not usually aware that this is the case. if a russian autocrat has succeeded in making himself look like an englishman, and behaves like one, he is happy. of winter sports--in which, however, but a small minority of the russian youth care to take part--there are skating, ice-yatching, snow-shoeing, and ice-hilling. the skating ought, naturally, to be very good in russia. as a matter of fact the ice is generally dead and lacking in that elasticity and spring which is characteristic of our english ice. it is too thick for elasticity, though the surface is beautifully kept and scientifically treated with a view to skating wherever a space is flooded or an acre or two of the neva's broad bosom is reclaimed to make a skating-ground. some of the russian amateurs skate marvellously, as also do many of the english and other foreign residents. ice-yachting is confined almost entirely to these latter, the natives not having as yet awakened to the merits of this fine pastime. ice-hilling, however, at fair-time--that is, during the carnival week, preceding the "long fast" or lent--is much practised by the people. this is a kind of cross between the switchback and tobogganing, and is an exceedingly popular amusement among the english residents of st. petersburg. snow-shoeing, again, is a fine and healthful recreation; it is the "ski"-running of norway, and is beloved and much practised by all englishmen who are fortunate enough to be introduced to its fascinations. it is too difficult and requires too much exertion, however, for young russia, and that indolent individual, in consequence, rarely dons the snow-shoe. the russians are a theatre-loving people, and the acting must be very good to please their critical taste. many of their theatres are "imperial," that is, the state "pays the piper" if the receipts of the theatre so protected do not balance the expenditure. in paying for good artists, whether operatic or dramatic, the russians are most lavish, and the imperial italian opera must have been a source of considerable expense to the authorities in the days of its state endowment. nearly every russian is a natural musician, and cannot only sing in tune, but can take a part "by ear." the man with the _balaleika_, or _garmonka_, is always sure of an admiring audience, whether in town or village; and there is not a tiny hamlet in the empire but resolves itself, on holidays, into a pair of choral societies--one for male and one for female voices--which either parade up and down the village street, singing, without, of course, either conductor or accompaniment, or sit in rows upon the benches outside the huts, occupied in a similar manner. occasionally, but very rarely, you may see a party of russian children, or young men and women, playing, in the open air, at one of two games. the first is a variant of "prisoner's base"; the other is a species of ninepins, or skittles, played with a group of uprights at which short, thick clubs are thrown. the russian youth--those who are energetic enough to practise the game--sometimes attain considerable proficiency with these grim little weapons, and make wonderful shots at a distance of some thirty yards or so. as for the middle-class russian sportsman, he forms a class by himself, and is a very original person indeed, unless taught the delights of the chase by an englishman. in his eyes the be-all and end-all of a true sportsman is to purchase the orthodox equipment of a green-trimmed coat, tyrolese hat, and long boots, and to pay his subscription to a shooting club. he rarely discharges a gun; the rascally thing kicks, he finds; and the birds _will_ fly before he can point his weapon at them as they crouch in the heather at his feet; of course he is not such a fool as to fire after they are up and away. as a rule, however, he goes no farther afield than the card-table of the club-house. why should he? he has bought all the clothes; and what more does a man need to be a sportsman? i cannot honestly affirm that i ever saw one of these good fellows actually fire off a gun; for whenever i have been informed that such an event is about to take place, i have always done my best to put two or three good miles, or a village or two, between myself and the muscovitish "sportsman." _the kirghiz and their horses_ _fred burnaby_ the aspect of the country now underwent an entire change. we had left all traces of civilization behind us, and were regularly upon the steppes. not the steppes as they are described to us in the summer months, when hundreds of nomad tribes, like their forefathers of old, migrate from place to place, with their families, flocks, and herds, and relieve the dreary aspect of this vast flat expanse with their picturesque _kibitkas_, or tents, while hundreds of horses, grazing on the rich grass, are a source of considerable wealth to the kirghiz proprietors. a large dining-table covered with naught but its white cloth is not a cheery sight. to describe the country for the next one hundred miles from orsk, i need only extend the table-cover. for here, there, and everywhere was a dazzling, glaring sheet of white, as seen under the influence of a mid-day sun; then gradually softening down as the god of light sunk into the west, it faded into a vast, melancholy-looking, colourless ocean. this was shrouded in some places from the view by filmy clouds of mist and vapour, which rose in the evening air and shaded the wilderness around--a picture of desolation which wearied, by its utter loneliness, and at the same time appalled by its immensity; a circle of which the centre was everywhere, and the circumference nowhere. such were the steppes as i drove through them at night-fall or in the early morn; and where, fatigued by want of sleep, my eye searched eagerly, but in vain, for a station. on arriving at the halting-place, which was about twenty-seven versts from orsk, nazar came to me, and said, "i am very sleepy; i have not slept for three nights, and shall fall off if we continue the journey." when i began to think of it, the poor fellow had a good deal of reason on his side. i could occasionally obtain a few moments' broken slumber, which was out of the question for him. i felt rather ashamed that in my selfishness i had over-driven a willing horse, and the fellow had shown first-class pluck when we had to pass the night out on the roadside; so, saying that he ought to have told me before that he wanted rest, i sent him to lie down, when, stretching his limbs alongside the stove, in an instant he was fast asleep. the inspector was a good-tempered, fat old fellow, with red cheeks and an asthmatic cough. he had been a veterinary surgeon in a cossack regiment, and consequently his services were much in request with the people at orsk. he informed me that land could be bought on these flats for a rouble and a half a _desyatin_ ( , acres); that a cow cost £ s. d.; a fat sheep, two years old, s. d.; and mutton or beef, a penny per pound. a capital horse could be purchased for three sovereigns, a camel for £ s., while flour cost s. d. the pood of forty pounds. these were the prices at orsk, but at times he said that provisions could be bought at a much lower rate, particularly if purchased from the tartars themselves. the latter had suffered a great deal of late years from the cattle-pest, and vaccinating the animals had been tried as an experiment, but, according to my informant, with but slight success. the kirghiz themselves have but little faith in doctors or vets. it is with great difficulty that the nomads can be persuaded to have their children vaccinated; the result is, that when small-pox breaks out among them it creates fearful havoc in the population. putting this epidemic out of the question, the roving tartars are a peculiarly healthy race. the absence of medical men does not seem to have affected their longevity, the disease they most suffer from being ophthalmia, which is brought on by the glare of the snow in the winter, and by the dust and heat in the summer months. the country now began to change its snowy aspect, and party-coloured grasses of various hues dotted the steppes around. the kirghiz had taken advantage of the more benignant weather, and hundreds of horses were here and there to be seen picking up what they could find. in fact, it is extraordinary how any of these animals manage to exist through the winter months, as the nomads hardly ever feed them with corn, trusting to the slight vegetation which exists beneath the snow. occasionally the poor beasts perish by thousands, and a tartar who is a rich man one week may find himself a beggar the next. this comes from the frequent snow-storms, when the thermometer sometimes descends to from forty to fifty degrees below zero, fahrenheit; but more often from some slight thaw taking place for perhaps a few hours. this is sufficient to ruin whole districts, for the ground becomes covered with an impenetrable coating of ice, and the horses simply die of starvation, not being able to kick away the frozen substance as they do the snow from the grass beneath their hoofs. no horses which i have ever seen are so hardy as these little animals, which are indigenous to the kirghiz steppes; perhaps for the same reason that the spartans of old excelled all other nations in physical strength, but with this difference, that nature doles out to the weakly colts the same fate which the spartan parents apportioned to their sickly offspring. the kirghiz never clothe their horses, even in the coldest winter. they do not even take the trouble to water them, the snow eaten by the animals supplying this want. towards the end of the winter months the ribs of the poor beasts almost come through their sides; but once the snow disappears and the rich vegetation which replaces it in the early spring comes up, the animals gain flesh and strength, and are capable of performing marches which many people in this country would deem impossible, a hundred-mile ride not being at all an uncommon occurrence in tartary. kirghiz horses are not generally well shaped, and cannot gallop very fast, but they can traverse enormous distances without water, forage, or halting. when the natives wish to perform any very long journey they generally employ two horses: on one they carry a little water in a skin, and some corn, while they ride the other, changing from time to time, to ease the animals. it is said that a kirghiz chief once galloped with a cossack escort (on two horses) miles in twenty-four hours, the path extending for a considerable distance over a mountainous and rocky district. the animals, however, soon recovered from the effects of the journey, although they were a little lame for the first few days. an extraordinary march was made by count borkh to the sam, in may, . the object of his expedition was to explore the routes across the ust urt, and if possible to capture some kirghiz _aúls_ (villages), which were the headquarters of some marauding bands from the town of kungrad. the russian officer determined to cross the northern tchink, and by a forced march to surprise the tribes which nomadized on the sam. up to that time only small cossack detachments had ever succeeded in penetrating to this locality. to explain the difficulties to be overcome, it must be observed that the ust urt plateau is bounded on all sides by a scarped cliff, known by the name of the tchink. it is very steep, attaining in some places an elevation of from to feet, and the tracks down its rugged sides are blocked up by enormous rocks and loose stones. count borkh resolved to march as lightly equipped as possible, and without baggage, as he wished to avoid meeting any parties of the nomad tribes on his road. his men carried three days' rations on their saddles, while the artillery took only as many rounds as the limber-box would contain. the expedition was made up of orenburg cossacks, sixty mounted riflemen, and a gun, which was taken more by way of experiment than for any other reason, the authorities being anxious to know if artillery could be transported in that direction. the detachment reached ak-tiube in six days without _contretemps_, after a march of miles, and with the loss of only two lame horses. _winter in moscow_ _h. sutherland edwards_ russia in the summer is no more like russia in the winter than a camp in time of peace is like a camp in the presence of the enemy. moreover, snow is one of the chief natural productions of the country; and without it russia is as uninteresting as an orchard without fruit. one always thinks of russia in connection with its frosts, and of its frosts in connection with such great events as the campaign of , or the winter of in the crimea. accordingly, a foreigner in russia naturally looks forward to the winter with much interest, mingled perhaps with a certain amount of awe. he waits for it, in fact, as a man waits for a thief, expecting the visitor with a certain kind of apprehension, and not without a due provision of life-preservers in the shape of goloshes, seven-leagued boots, scarves, fur coats, etc. the house i lived in was in the middle of moscow; and with the exception of the stoves, the internal arrangement seemed like that of most other dwellings in europe. the russian stoves, however, are, in fact, thick hollow party-walls, built of brick, and sometimes separating, or connecting, as many as three or four rooms, and heating them all from one common centre. the outer sides of these lofty intramural furnaces are usually faced with a kind of white porcelain, though in some houses they are papered like the rest of the wall, so that the presence of the stove is only known in summer by two or three apertures like port-holes, which have been made for the purpose of admitting the hot air, and which, when there is no heat within, are closed with round metal covers like the tops of canisters. sometimes, especially in country houses, the stove, or _peitchka_ as it is called, is not only a wall, but a wall which, towards the bottom, projects so as to form a kind of dresser or sofa, and which the lazier of the inmates use not infrequently in the latter capacity. in the huts the _peitchka_ is almost invariably of this form; and the peasants not only lie and sleep upon it as a matter of course, but even get inside and use it as a bath. not that they fill their stoves with water--that would be rather difficult. but the russian bath is merely a room paved with stone slabs and heated like an oven, in which the bather stands to be rubbed and lathered, and to have buckets of water poured over him, or thrown at him, by naked attendants; and accordingly a stove makes an excellent bath on a small scale. as a general rule, every row of huts has one or more baths attached to it, which the inhabitants support by subscription; but when this is not the case, the peasant, after carefully raking out the ashes, creeps into the hot _peitchka_, and is soon bathed in his own perspiration. he would infallibly be baked alive but for the pailfuls of water with which he soon begins to cool his heated skin. thanks, however, to this precaution, he issues from the fiery furnace uninjured, and, it is to be hoped, benefited. [illustration: the red square, moscow.] when a stove is being heated, the port-holes are kept carefully shut, to prevent the egress of carbonic-acid gas. but after the wood has become thoroughly charred, and every vestige of flame has disappeared, the chimney is closed on a level with the garret floor, the covers are removed from the apertures in the side of the stove, and the hot air is allowed to penetrate freely into the room; which, if enough wood has been put into the _peitchka_, and the lid of the chimney closes hermetically, will, by this one fire, be kept warm for twelve or fourteen hours. occasionally it happens that the port-holes are opened while there still flickers a little blue flame above the whitening embers. in this case there is death in the stove. the carbonic-acid gas, which is still proceeding from the burning charcoal, enters the room, and produces asphyxia, or at all events some of its symptoms. if you have not time, or if you are already too weak, to open the door when you find yourself attacked by _ougar_ (as the russians call this gas), you had better throw the first thing you have at hand through the window; and the cold air, rushing rapidly into the room, will save you. a foreigner unaccustomed to the hot apartments of russia will scarcely perceive the presence of _ougar_ until he is already seriously affected by it; and in this manner the son of the persian ambassador lost his life, some years since, in one of the principal hotels of moscow. a native, however, if the stove should chance to be "covered" before the wood is thoroughly charred, will detect the presence of the fatal gas almost instantaneously; and having done so, the best remedy he can adopt for the headache and sickness, which even then will inevitably follow, is to rush into the open air, and cool his temples by copious applications of snow. persons who are almost insensible from the effect of _ougar_ have to be carried out and rolled in the snow,--a process which speedily restores them to their natural condition. one morning there was a fall of snow; and the cream was brought in from the country in jars wrapped carefully round with matting to prevent its freezing. hundreds of cabbages and thousands of potatoes, similarly protected, were purchased and stowed away. furlongs of wood (in russia wood is sold by the foot), were laid up in the courtyard; an inspector of stoves arrived to see that every _peitchka_ was in proper working order; and an examiner and fitter-in of windows was summoned to adjust the usual extra sash. at last the windows had been made fast, each pane being at the same time reputtied into its frame. on the window-sill, in the space between the outer and inner panes, was something resembling a long deep line of snow, which was, however, merely a mass of cotton-wool placed there as an additional protection against the external air. indeed, the winds of the russian winter have such powers of penetration that, in a room guarded by _triple_ windows, besides shutters closed with the greatest exactness, i have seen the curtains slightly agitated when the howling outside was somewhat louder than usual. "the wind," says gregorovitch in his _winter's tale_, "howls like a dog; and like a dog will bite the feet and calves of those who have not duly provided themselves with fur-goloshes and doubly-thick pantaloons." such a wind must not be suffered to intrude into any house intended to be habitable. besides the cotton-wool, which is a special provision against draughts, the space between the two sashes is usually adorned with artificial flowers; indeed, the fondness of the russians for flowers and green leaves during the winter is remarkable. the corridors are converted into greenhouses, by means of trellis-work covered with creepers. the windows of many of the apartments are encircled by evergreens, and in the drawing-rooms, flower-stands form the principal ornaments. at the same time enormous sums are paid for bouquets from the hot-houses which abound in both the capitals. doubtless the long winters have some share in the production of this passion for flowers and green plants, just as love of country is increased by exile, and love of liberty by imprisonment. there are generally at least two heavy snow-storms by way of warning before winter fairly commences its reign. the first fall of snow thaws perhaps a few days afterwards, the second in about a week, the third in five months. if a lady drops her bracelet or brooch in the street during the period of this third fall, she need not trouble herself to put out handbills offering a reward for its discovery, at all events not before the spring; for it will be preserved in its hiding-place, as well as ice can preserve it, until about the middle of april, when, if the amount of the reward be greater than the value of the article lost, it will in all probability be restored to her. the russians put on their furs at the first signs of winter, and the sledges make their appearance in the streets as soon as the snow is an inch or two thick. of course at such a time a sledge is far from possessing any advantage over a carriage on wheels; but the russians welcome their appearance with so much enthusiasm, that the first sledge-drivers are sure of excellent receipts for several days. the _droshkies_ disappear one by one with the black mud of autumn; and by the time the gilt cupolas of the churches, and the red and green roofs of the houses, have been made whiter than their own walls, the city swarms with sledges. it is not, however, until near christmas, when the "frost of st. nicholas" sets in, that they are seen in all their glory. the earlier frosts of october and november mayor may not be attended to without any very dangerous results ensuing; but when the frigid st. nicholas makes his appearance,--staying the most rapid currents, forming bridges over the broadest rivers, and converting seas into deserts of ice,--then a blast from his breath, if not properly guarded against, may prove fatal. it has been said that it is not until the _nikòlskoi maros_, or frost of st. nicholas, that the sledges fly through the streets in all their glory. by that time the rich "boyars"[ ] (as foreigners persist in styling the russian proprietors of the present day), have arrived from their estates, and the poor peasants, who have long ceased to till the ground, and have not thrashed all the corn, begin to come in from theirs; for, humble and dependent as he may be, each peasant has nevertheless his own patch of land. for the former are the elegant sledges of polished nut-wood, with rugs of soft, thick fur to protect the legs of the occupants; whose drivers, in their green caftans fastened round the waist with red sashes, and in their square thickly-wadded caps of crimson velvet, like sofa-cushions, urge on the prodigiously fast trotting horses, at the same time throwing themselves back in their seats with outstretched arms and tightened reins, as though the animals were madly endeavouring to escape from their control. the latter bring with them certain strongly-made wooden boxes, with a seat at the back for two passengers and a perch in front for a driver. these boxes are put upon rails, and called sledges. the bottom of each box (or sledge), is plentifully strewn with hay, which after a few days becomes converted, by means of snow and dirty goloshes, into something very like manure. the driver is immediately in front of you, with his brass badge hanging on his back like the label on a box of sardines. he wears a sheepskin; but it is notorious that after ten years' wear the sheepskin loses its odour, besides which it is winter, so that your sense of smell has really nothing to fear. the one thing necessary is to keep your legs to yourself, or at all events not to obtrude them beneath the perch of the driver, or you will run the chance of having your foot crushed by that gentleman's heel. sometimes the horse is fresh from the plough, and requires a most vigorous application of the driver's thong to induce him to quit his accustomed pace; but for the most part the animals are willing enough, and as rapid as their masters are skilful. the driver is generally much attached to his horse, whom he affectionately styles his "dove" or his "pigeon," assuring him that although the ground is covered with snow, there is still grass in the stable for his _galoùpchik_--as the favourite bird is called, etc., etc. [footnote : it would be equally correct to speak of the english nobility of the present day as "the barons."] as for the real pigeons and doves, they are to be found everywhere,--on the belfries of the churches, in the courtyards of the houses, in the streets blocking up the pavement, and above all, beneath the projecting edges of the roofs, where you may see them clustering in long deep lines like black cornices. at home we associate snow with darkness and gloom; but, when once the snow has fallen, the sky of moscow is as bright and as blue as that of italy; the atmosphere is clear and pure; the sun shines for several hours in the day with a brightness from which the reflection of the snow becomes perfectly dazzling; and if the frost be intense, there is not a breath of wind. the breath that really does attract your notice is that of the pedestrians, who appear to be blowing forth columns of smoke or steam into the rarefied atmosphere, and who look like so many walking chimneys or human locomotives. and if breath looks like smoke, smoke itself looks almost solid. rise early, when the fires are being lighted which are to heat the stoves through the entire day, and if the thermometer outside your window marks more than °, you will see the grey columns rising heavily into the air, until at a certain height the smoke remains stationary, and hangs in clouds above the houses. looking from some great elevation, such as the tower of ivan veliki in the kremlin, you see these clouds beneath you, agitated like waves, and forming a kind of nebulous sea, which is, however, soon taken up by the surrounding atmosphere. it is astonishing how much cold one can support when the sky is bright and the sun shining; certainly ten or fifteen degrees more by réaumur's thermometer, than when the day is dark and gloomy. and the effect is the same on all. on one of these fine frosty days there is unwonted cheerfulness in the look, unwonted energy in the movements of everyone you meet. if there were the slightest wind with so keen a temperature, you would feel, every time it grazed your face, as if you were being shaved with a blunt razor,--for to be cut with a sharp one is comparatively nothing. but the air is calm; and as the day exhilarates you generally, it makes you walk more briskly than you are in the habit of doing in your _shouba_ of cloth, wadding, and fur; and the result is, you are so warm and so surrounded by sunshine, that, but for seeing the cold, you might fancy yourself on the shores of the mediterranean instead of on the banks of the moskva, which is now a long, shiny, serpent-like path of ice. in london, on a damp, foggy, sunless winter's day, when the thermometer is not quite down to freezing-point, the system is so depressed by the atmosphere and the cheerless aspect of the streets, that you feel the cold more acutely than you would do on a sunshiny morning in moscow with ten degrees of frost. in st. petersburg, where the winter sun is, "as in northern climes, but dimly bright," and where the city is frequently enveloped in a mist (which is, however, ethereal vapour compared to the opaque fogs of london), the cold is, on the same principle, more severely felt than in moscow. nevertheless, in st. petersburg people go about far more lightly clad than in the more southern towns of the empire,--for st. petersburg is half a foreign city, and the numerous pedestrians have found it necessary to reject the ponderous _shouba_ for a long wadded paletot with a fur-collar. the real russian _shouba_ is undoubtedly very warm; for it enables the moscow merchant to go upon 'change, which in the old capital, during the coldest weather, is held in the open air. in considering the advantages and disadvantages of a russian winter, one should not forget the question of rain. it is evident, then, that where there is frost there can be no rain; and accordingly, for nearly six months in the year, you can dispense altogether with that most unpleasant encumbrance, the umbrella. for it must be remembered that in russia the snow does not fall in the soft feathery flakes to which we are accustomed in the more temperate latitudes. it comes down in showers of microscopic darts, which, instead of intercepting the light of the sun, like the arrows of xerxes' army, glitter and sparkle in the rays as they reflect them in every direction. the minute crystals, or rather crystalline fragments, can be at once shaken from the collars of fur, on the points of which they hang like needles, but above all like epsom salts; and on the cloth of the men's _shoubas_ and the satin of the women's cloaks they have scarcely any hold. the most pleasant time of the whole winter is during the moonlight nights, when the wind is still and the snow deep on the ground. in the streets the sparkling _trottoir_, which appears literally paved with diamonds, is as hard as the agate floor of the cathedral of the annunciation in the kremlin. in the country, where alone you can enjoy the night in all its beauty, the frozen surface crunches, but scarcely sinks, beneath the sledge, as your _troika_ tears along the road as fast as the centre horse can trot and the two outsiders gallop. for it is a peculiarity of the _troika_ that the three horses that constitute it are harnessed abreast; and that while the one in the shafts, whose head is upheld by a bow, with a little bell suspended from the top, is trained to trot, and never to leave that pace, however fast he may be driven, the two who are harnessed outside must gallop, even if they gallop but six miles an hour; though it is far more likely that they will be called upon to do twelve. lastly, the _troika_ must present a fan-like front; to produce which the driver tightens the outside reins till the heads of the outriggers stand out at an angle of forty or fifty degrees from that of the horse in the shafts. at the same time the centre horse trots with his head high in the air, while the two who have their existences devoted to galloping have their noses depressed towards the ground, like bulls running at a dog. there may be enough moonlight to read by when the moon itself is obscured by clouds. but if it shines directly on the white ermine-like snow, which covers the vast plains like an interminable carpet, the atmosphere becomes full of light, and the night in its brightness, its solitude, and its silence, broken only by the bells of some distant team, reminds you of the calmness of an unusually quiet and beautiful day. as you turn away from the main road towards the woods, you pass groups of tall slender birch-trees, with their white silvery bark, and their delicate thread-like fibres hanging in frozen showers from the ends of the branches, and clothing the birch with a kind of icy foliage, while the other trees remain bare and ragged. the birch is eminently a winter tree, and its tresses of fibres, whether petrified and covered with crystal by the frost, or waving freely in the breeze which has stripped them of their snow, are equally ornamental. the ground is strewed with the shadows of the trees, traced with exquisite fineness on the white snow, from which these lunar photographs stand forth with wonderful distinctness. to drive out with an indefinite number of _troikas_ to some village in the environs, or to the first station on one of the government roads, is a common mode of spending a fine winter's night, and one which is equally popular in moscow and st. petersburg. these excursions, which always partake more or less of the nature of a picnic, form one of the chief pleasures of the cold season. of course such expeditions also take place during the day, but, whatever the hour of the departure, if there happen to be a moon that night, the return is sure not to take place before it has made its appearance. _a journey by sleigh_ _fred burnaby_ "bring out another sleigh," said my friend. "how the wind cuts! does it not?" he continued, as the breeze, whistling against our bodies, made itself felt in spite of all the precautions we had taken. the vehicle now brought was broader and more commodious than the previous one, which, somewhat in the shape of a coffin, seemed especially designed so as to torture the occupants, particularly if, like my companion and self, they should happen to be endowed by nature with that curse during a sleigh journey--however desirable appendages they may be when in a crowd--long legs. three horses abreast, their coats white with pendent icicles and hoar-frost, were harnessed to the sleigh; the centre animal was in the shafts and had his head fastened to a huge wooden head-collar, bright with various colors. from the summit of the head-collar was suspended a bell, while the two outside horses were harnessed by cord traces to splinter-bars attached to the sides of the sleigh. the object of all this is to make the animal in the middle trot at a brisk pace, while his two companions gallop, their necks arched round in a direction opposite to the horse in the centre, this poor beast's head being tightly reined up to the head-collar. a well-turned-out _troika_ with three really good horses, which get over the ground at the rate of twelve miles an hour, is a pretty sight to witness, particularly if the team has been properly trained, and the outside animals never attempt to break into a trot, while the one in the shafts steps forward with high action; but the constrained position in which the horses are kept must be highly uncomfortable to them, and one not calculated to enable a driver to get as much pace out of his animals as they could give him if harnessed in another manner. off we went at a brisk pace, the bell dangling from our horse's head-collar, and jingling merrily at every stride of the team. the sun rose high in the heavens: it was a bright and glorious morning in spite of the intense cold, and the amount of oxygen we inhaled was enough to elevate the spirits of the most dyspeptic of mankind. presently, after descending a slight declivity, our jehu turned sharply to the right; then came a scramble and a succession of jolts and jerks as we slid down a steep bank, and we found ourselves on what appeared to be a broad high-road. here the sight of many masts and shipping which, bound in by the fetters of a relentless winter, would remain imbedded in the ice till the ensuing spring, showed me that we were on the volga. it was an animated spectacle, this frozen highway, thronged with peasants who strode beside their sledges, which were bringing cotton and other goods from orenburg to the railway. now a smart _troika_ would dash by us, its driver shouting as he passed, when our jehu, stimulating his steeds by loud cries and frequent applications of the whip, would vainly strive to overtake his brother coachman. old and young alike seemed like octogenarians, their short thick beards and mustaches being white as hoar-frost from the congealed breath. according to all accounts the river had not been long frozen, and till very recently steamers laden with corn from southern russia had plied between sizeran and samara. the price of corn is here forty copecks the pood of forty pounds, while the same quantity at samara could be purchased for eighteen copecks. an iron bridge was being constructed a little farther down the volga. here the railroad was to pass, and it was said that in two years' time there would be railway communication, not only between samara and the capital, but even as far as orenburg. presently the scenery became very picturesque as we raced over the glistening surface, which flashed like a burnished cuirass beneath the rays of the rising sun. now we approach a spot where seemingly the waters from some violent blast or other had been in a state of foam and commotion, when a stern frost transformed them into a solid mass. pillars and blocks of the shining and hardened element were seen modelled into a thousand quaint and grotesque patterns. here a fountain, perfectly formed with ionic and doric columns, was reflecting a thousand prismatic hues from the diamond-like stalactites which had attached themselves to its crest. there a huge obelisk, which, if of stone, might have come from ancient thebes, lay half buried beneath a pile of fleecy snow. farther on we came to what might have been a roman temple or vast hall in the palace of a cæsar, where many half-hidden pillars and monuments erected their tapering summits above the piles of the _débris_. the wind had done in that northern latitude what has been performed by some violent pre-adamite agency in the berber desert. take away the ebon blackness of the stony masses which have been there cast forth from the bowels of the earth, and replace them on a smaller scale by the crystal forms i have faintly attempted to describe, and the resemblance would be striking. now we came to some fishing-huts, which were constructed on the frozen river, the traffic in the finny tribe which takes place in this part of russia being very great, the volga producing the sterlet (a fish unknown in other rivers of europe), in large quantities. i have often eaten them, but must say i could never appreciate this so-called delicacy. the bones are of a very glutinous nature, and can be easily masticated, while the taste of a sterlet is something between that of a barbel and a perch, the muddy flavour of the former predominating. however, they are an expensive luxury, as, to be perfection for the table, they should be taken out of the water alive and put at once into the cooking-pot. the distance to st. petersburg from the volga is considerable, and a good-sized fish will often cost from thirty to forty roubles, and sometimes even a great deal more. we were now gradually nearing our first halting-place, where it was arranged that we should change horses. this was a farm-house known by the name of nijnege pegersky hootor, twenty-five versts distant from sizeran. some men were engaged in winnowing corn in a yard hard by the dwelling; and the system they employed to separate the husks from the grain probably dates from before the flood, for, throwing the corn high up into the air with a shovel, they let the wind blow away the husks, and the grain descended on to a carpet set to catch it in the fall. it was then considered to be sufficiently winnowed, and fit to be sent to the mill. the farm-house was fairly clean, and, for a wonder, there were no live animals inside the dwelling. it is no uncommon thing in farm-houses in russia to find a calf domesticated in the sitting-room of the family, and this more particularly during the winter months. but here the good housewife permitted no such intruders, and the boards were clean and white, thus showing that a certain amount of scrubbing was the custom. the habitation, which was of a square shape, and entirely made of wood, contained two good-sized but low rooms, a large stove made of dried clay being so arranged as to warm both the apartments. a heavy wooden door on the outside of the building gave access to a small portico, at the other end of which there was the customary _obraz_, or image, which is to be found in almost every house in russia. these _obrazye_ are made of different patterns, but generally take the form of a picture of saints or of the trinity. they are executed in silver-gilt or brass relief, and adorned with tawdry fringe or other gewgaws. the repeated bows and crosses made by the peasantry before these idols is very surprising to an englishman, who may have been told that there is little difference between the greek religion and his own; but if this is the case, the sooner the second commandment is omitted from our service, the better. it may be said that the russian peasantry only look upon these images as symbols, and that in reality they are praying to the living god. let any one who indulges in this delusion travel in russia and talk to the inhabitants with reference to the _obrazye_, or go to kief at the time of a pilgrimage to the mummified saints in that sanctuary, and i think he will then say that no country in the world is so imbued with superstitious credences as russia. above the stove, which was about five feet high, a platform of boards had been erected at a distance of about three feet from the ceiling. this was the sleeping resort of the family, and occasionally used for drying clothes during the day. the russian _moujik_ likes this platform more than any other part of the habitation, and his great delight is to lie there and perspire profusely, after which he finds himself the better able to resist the cold of the elements outside. the farm-house in which i now found myself had cost in building two hundred roubles, about twenty-six pounds of our money, and her home was a source of pride to the good housewife, who could read and write, an accomplishment not often possessed by the women of this class in the province of russia. by this time our former team had been replaced by three fresh horses, and the driver who was to accompany us had nearly finished making his own preparations for the sleigh journey. several long bands of cloth, first carefully warmed at the stove, were successively wound round his feet, and then, having put on a pair of thick boots and stuffed some hay into a pair of much larger dimensions, he drew the latter on as well, when, with a thick sheep-skin coat, cap, and _vashlik_, he declared that he was ready to start. the cold was very intense when we quitted the threshold, and the thermometer had fallen several degrees during the last half-hour; the wind had also increased, and it howled and whistled against the eaves of the farm-house, bearing millions of minute snowy flakes before it in its course. presently the sound of a little stamping on the bottom of the sleigh announced to me that the cold had penetrated to my companion's feet, and that he was endeavouring to keep up the circulation. very soon that so-called "pins-and-needles" sensation, recalling some snow-balling episodes of my boyish days, began once more to make itself felt, and i found myself commencing a sort of double-shuffle against the boards of the vehicle. the snow was falling in thick flakes, and with great difficulty our driver could keep the track, his jaded horses sinking sometimes up to the traces in the rapidly forming drifts, and floundering heavily along the now thoroughly hidden road. the cracks of his whip sounded like pistol-shots against their jaded flanks, and volumes of invectives issued from his lips. "oh, sons of animals!"--[whack]. "oh, spoiled one!"--[whack]. this to a brute which looked as if he never had eaten a good feed of corn in his life. "oh, woolly ones!" [whack! whack! whack!]. "o lord god!" this as we were all upset into a snowdrift, the sleigh being three parts overturned, and our jehu precipitated in the opposite direction. "how far are we from the next halting-place?" suddenly inquired my companion, with an ejaculation which showed that even his good temper had given way under the cold and our situation. "only four versts, one of noble birth," replied the struggling jehu, who was busily engaged endeavouring to right the half-overturned sleigh. a russian verst about night-fall, and under such conditions as i have endeavoured to point out to the reader, is an unknown quantity. a scotch mile and a bit, an irish league, a spanish _legua_, or the german _stunde_, are at all times calculated to call forth the wrath of the traveller, but in no way equal to the first-named division of distance. for the verst is barely two-thirds of an english mile, and when, after driving yet for an hour, we were told that there were still two versts more before we could arrive at our halting-place, it began fully to dawn upon my friend that either our driver's knowledge of distance, or otherwise his veracity, was at fault. at last we reached a long, struggling village, formed of houses constructed much in the same way as that previously described, when our horses stopped before a detached cottage. the proprietor came out to meet us at the threshold. "_samovar, samovar!_" (urn), said my companion. "quick, quick! _samovar!_" and hurrying by him, and hastily throwing off our furs, we endeavoured to regain our lost circulation beside the walls of a well-heated stove. the russian peasants are not ignorant of the good old maxim that the early bird gets the worm, and the few hours' daylight they enjoy during the winter months makes it doubly necessary for them to observe this precept. we were all up a good hour before sunrise, my companion making the tea, while our driver was harnessing the horses, but this time not three abreast, for the road was bad and narrow; so we determined to have two small sleighs with a pair of horses to each, and put our luggage in one vehicle while we travelled in the other. off we went, a motley crew. first, the unwashed peddler who had wished to be my companion's bedfellow the night before; then our luggage sleigh; and, finally, my friend and self, who brought up the rear, with a careful eye upon our effects, as the people in that part of the country were said to have some difficulty in distinguishing between _meum_ and _tuum_. the sun was bright and glorious, and in no part of the world hitherto visited have i ever seen aurora in such magnificence. first, a pale blue streak, gradually extending over the whole of the eastern horizon, arose like a wall barring the unknown beyond; then, suddenly changing colour until the summit was like lapis-lazuli, and its base a sheet of purple waves of grey and crystal, radiating from the darker hues, relieved the eye, appalled by the vastness of the barrier; the purple foundations were in turn upheaved by a sea of fire, which dazzled the eye with its glowing brilliancy, and the wall of colours floating in space broke up into castles, battlements, and towers, which were wafted by the breeze far away from our view. the sea of flame meanwhile had lighted up the whole horizon; the eye quailed beneath the glare. the snowy carpet at our feet reflected like a camera the wonderful panorama overhead. flakes of light in rapid succession bound earth to sky, until the globe of sparkling light arising from the depths of this ocean of flame dimmed into insignificance the surroundings of the picture. presently a sudden check and exclamation of our jehu told us that the harness had given way, and a conversation, freely interlarded with epithets exchanged between the driver and the peddler, showed that there was decidedly a difference of opinion between them. it appeared that the man of commerce was the only one of the party who knew the road, and having discovered this fact, he determined to make use of his knowledge by refusing to show the way unless the proprietor of the horses who drove the vehicle containing our luggage would abate a little from the price he had demanded for the hire of the horse in the peddler's sleigh. "a bargain is a bargain!" cried our driver, wishing to curry favour with his master, now a few yards behind him. "a bargain is a bargain. oh, thou son of an animal, drive on!" "it is very cold," muttered my companion. "for the sake of god," he shouted, "go on!" but neither the allusion to the peddler's parentage nor the invocation of the deity had the slightest effect upon the fellow's mercenary soul. "i am warm, and well wrapped up," he said; "it is all the same to me if we wait here one hour or ten;" and with the most provoking indifference he commenced to smoke, not even the manner in which the other drivers aspersed the reputation of his mother appearing to have the smallest effect. at last the proprietor, seeing it was useless holding out any longer, agreed to abate somewhat from the hire of the horse, and once more the journey continued over a break-neck country, though at anything but a break-neck pace, until we reached the station--a farm-hause--eighteen versts from our sleeping quarters, and, as we were informed, forty-five from samara. _russian architecture_ _eugÈne emmanuel viollet-le-duc_ the russian people, composed of diverse elements in which the sclav predominated at the moment when that vast empire began to be established under great princes and amid incessant struggle, was in too close communication with byzantium not to have been to a certain extent in submission to byzantine art; but nevertheless each of these elements was in possession of certain notions of art which we must not neglect. the sclavs, like the varangians, knew scarcely anything but construction by wood, but at a comparatively early period they had already carried the art of carpentry very far, and in many different channels. the sclavs (as extant traditions show), proceeded by piles in their wooden buildings: and the scandinavians resorted to joining and dove-tailing. thus, the latter early attained great skill in naval construction. these two methods of construction in wood have persisted till the present day, which fact is easily established on examining the rural dwellings of russia. the sclavs, moreover, as well as the varangians, possessed certain art expressions which denote an asiatic origin. even in byzantine art, so far as ornamentation is concerned, there were origins that were evidently common to those that are felt in the sclav arts; and these original elements are again found in central asia. that ornamentation, composed of interlacings and conventional floral motives, dry and metallic, which was adopted at byzantium, where it very soon destroyed the last vestiges of roman art, also appears on the most ancient monuments of the sclavs, and even on objects that in france are attributed to the merovingians, that is to say, the franks who came from the shores of the baltic. thus, russia was to take her arts, as regards ornamentation, from branches that are far apart from one another in time and distance, but which sprang from a common trunk. about the tenth century, the russian buildings were of wood; all texts agree on this point, and consequently these constructions could have no part in byzantine architecture, which does not recall even the traditions of carpentry work. towards the eleventh century, when the russians began to build religious edifices of masonry, the structure of which, particularly in the vaulting, is inspired by byzantine art, they adapted to this structure, together with a sensibly modified byzantine garb, an ornamentation, derived from asiatic, sclavic and turanian elements in variable, that is to say local, proportions. [illustration: church of the redemer, moscow.] for at least three centuries, byzantium was the great school sought by the latin, visigothic and germanic nations of europe for art teaching, and it was not till the end of the twelfth century that the french broke away from these traditions. their example was followed in italy, england and germany more or less successfully. russia held aloof from these attempts: she was too closely identified with byzantine art to try any other course; it may be said that she was the guardian of that art, and was to carry on its traditions by mingling with it elements due to the asiatic sclavic genius. all the dominant elements in russian art, whether they come from the north or south, belong to asia. iranians or persians, indians, turanians, or mongols have furnished tribute, though in unequal quantities, to this art. it may also be said that if russia has borrowed much from byzantium, the art elements among her population have not been without influence upon the formation of byzantine art. we think even that the influence of byzantine upon russian art has been greatly exaggerated, and that persia may have had at least as much effect upon the course of art in russia. however, we must except everything pertaining to images. but even here asiatic influence makes itself felt, not in the form, but in the preservation of the types. the imagery of the greek school has never gone out of favour in russia, and it still holds its place there in the representation of holy personages. in this, russia shows her attachment to tradition, as all the asiatic races do, and shows how little her intimate sentiments have suffered modification. the russians avoided the influence of the iconoclasts which was felt so violently in the western empire in the eighth century, and later still in various parts of western europe; among the vaudois and albigenses in the twelfth and thirteenth century, the hussites in the fifteenth, and the reformers in the sixteenth. but if russian architecture and ornamentation show marked originality, this does not seem to be the case with the representation of holy personages. these remain byzantine. it was the school of mount athos that supplied russia with the types, as it did to almost all the greek christians of the orient. in these representations, we have difficulty in finding a tendency towards realism, which, morever, does not appear till quite late, and does not come to full bloom. in russian art, it is possible to find a few scandinavian traces, or, to be more exact, in the arts of scandinavia we find some elements borrowed from the same sources whence the russians took theirs. russia has been one of the laboratories in which the arts, brought from all parts of asia, have been united to adopt an intermediate form between the eastern and the western world. geographically, she was favourably placed to gather together these influences; and, ethnologically, she was entirely prepared to assimilate these arts and develop them. if she has stopped short in this work, it was only at a very recent period, and when repudiating her origin and traditions, she tried to become western, in spite of her own genius. in the first place, the oldest religious edifices of russia affect slender forms, in elevation, which distinguishes them from the purely byzantine buildings. evidently, the russians, from the twelfth century on, employed in their religious edifices a geometrical plan that was different from that employed by the byzantine architects, but one very close to that admitted by the architects of greece during the early years of the middle ages. in georgia and armenia, a number of ancient churches, the majority of which are very small, are also of this character. but, while submitting to these dispositions, as soon as they adopted masonry instead of wood for building, the russians gave quite individual proportions to their religious edifices. by the fifteenth century, russia had combined all the various elements by the aid of which a national art should be constituted. to recapitulate these origins: we find already among the scythians some elements of art fairly well developed, foreign to greek art and derived from oriental tradition. byzantium, in constant contact with the people of southern russia, made its arts felt there; but in the north, some slight finnish influences and then some scandinavian ones, make themselves felt. from persia likewise, russia received impulses in art, on account of her commercial relations with that country through georgia and armenia. in the thirteenth century, the tartar-mongol domination was imposed upon russia, employed her artists and craftsmen, and thus placed her in direct contact with that mediæval orient that was so mighty and so brilliant in all its art productions. at length left to herself, in the fifteenth century, russia constituted her own art from these various sources. but this variety of sources is more apparent than real. it is enough to examine scythian ornamentation to recognize that it is of a pronounced indo-oriental character. byzantine taste has exerted a preponderating influence upon russia. but it has been recognized that this byzantine style is itself composed of very varied elements among which figure most largely the art of eastern asia, and that from this byzantine art russia likes to appropriate the asiatic side in particular. so that we may regard russian art as composed of elements borrowed from the orient to the almost complete exclusion of all others. moreover, if we follow the streams of art to their sources, we soon come to recognize that the tributaries are not at all numerous. in the matter of architecture, there are only two principles: structure by wood and concrete structure: grottoes, and construction with clay, and with masonry, which is derived from it. as to construction with cut stones, there results, either from a tradition of building with wood or from concrete construction, grottoes or conglomerate masses, sometimes both, as in egyptian art, for example. the innumerable races who issued from the east and finally overwhelmed the roman empire had preserved from their cradle their own traditions, and continued to keep up communication with their old homes. better than any other nation, the russians preserved these traditions, and they were, so to speak, rejuvenated every time a new wave passed across their territories; for it was always from the northern or southern orient, from the ural or the taurus, that the invaders came. whether they presented themselves as enemies or colonists they brought with them something of asia, the great mother of civilizations. this russian art, therefore, was never struck with decadence as was the byzantine art. it did not live solely upon itself, but profited by all that was brought from the orient. so, when the eastern empire fell during the fifteenth century, leaving only a pale trace of the last expressions of its arts, russia, on the contrary, was raising edifices and fabricating objects of great value from an artistic point of view. the west had only a small share in these productions, but even this was enough to enable russian art to be distinguished from the arts of the east by a certain freedom of conception and variety in the execution that rendered it an original product full of promise, the developments of which might have been marvellous if the natural course of events had not been hindered by the passion with which high russian society threw itself on the works of art of italy, germany and france. _sculpture and painting_ _philippe berthelot_ western influence was very strongly felt in sculpture and painting in russia during the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. narrowly confined to the representation of conventional types of saints, these arts did not acquire either personality or expression for two centuries. it was not until the eighteenth century that they began to raise statues to the memory of russia's great men: one of the first monuments was consecrated, as was indeed just, to peter the great, russia's great reformer; in his lifetime, count bartolomeo rastrelli the sculptor, father of the architect, executed a _peter the great on horseback_, which was cast in bronze in ; but the successors of peter the great did not like this group which they did not consider sufficiently animated and would not allow it to be erected on a public square. catherine ii. had falconet model a _peter the great_ mounted on a fiery horse climbing up a rock; this bronze group is placed in the centre of the square of peter the great on the neva, at st. petersburg. among the most celebrated works of russian sculpture, we may cite the bronze monument erected to the memory of prince poyarski and the butcher minine on the red square, moscow (by martoss, rector of the academy of fine arts, st. petersburg, in ); lomonossov's monument (by martoss); those of generals barclay de tolly and koutousov ( - after the model by b. orlovski, placed in front of the cathedral of kazan, st. petersburg); the colossal bust of alexander i. (by orlovski); the commemorative monument of alexander i. ( , by montferrand), with a statue of the angel of peace, by orlovski; the statue of krilov, the fabulist, , by baron clodt in the summer garden, st. petersburg; an equestrian statue of the emperor nicholas i. (by clodt, , on the st. mary square); the monument of novgorod, elevated in memory of the millenary of the russian occupation ( ), in the form of a gigantic bell containing scenes from russian history, by mikiechin; the monument to catherine ii. by mikiechin, she being represented as surrounded by her generals and statesmen ( , before the alexander theatre); the monument to pushkin in moscow ( , by objekuchin and bogomolov); the monument to bohdan-chmelnizki, at kiev ( , by mikiechin and other sculptors). the principal russian sculptors are popov, antokolski (statue of ivan the terrible, , in st. petersburg), tchichov and e. lanceray. they are characterized by a very pronounced realism that is common to all. russian painting has developed in various directions during the last two centuries under the influence of western europe; until the first half of the nineteenth century the imitation of italian painting, the classical french school and the execution of strictly academic painting were the three principal paths attempted by the russian artists. but for half a century, art has found a national expression for itself. at the end of the eighteenth and beginning of the nineteenth century, the principal representatives of religious and historical painting were losenko (died in ), antropov (died in ), akimov (died in ), ugriumov (died in ), levizki (died in ), ivanov (died in ), and moschov (died in ). the landscape and marine painters of greatest repute are sim. and sil. schtchedrin (the first died in , and the second in ), pritchetnikov (died in ), f. alekseiev (died in ). academic painting was cultivated principally by tropinin (died in ), warnek (died in ), lebediev (died in ), worobiev (died in ), k. rabus (died in ), bruni (died in ), markov (died in ), a. beidemann (died in ) and willewalde. the chief painter of the romantic school is k. brullov, who formed a school and had numerous scholars. other romantic painters of repute are bronnikov and various landscape and marine painters such as aivasovski, bogolnibov, l. lagorio and a. mechtcherski. religious and popular painting has a. ivanov for its representative. the principal realistic painters in genre and historical painting are fedotov, makovski, perov, polenor, vereschagin, etc. [illustration: statue of peter the great and the admiralty palace, st. petersburg.] ornamental sculpture seems to be superior to statuary in russia: it is abundantly practised in the decoration of churches; the innumerable chapels standing at the street corners in honour of some saint possess icons and lamps of bronze and silver; the iconostases of the cathedrals are extremely rich,--gold, silver-gilt, silver, lapis-lazuli, malachite and enamel-work are lavishly employed there. in the churches of saint isaac and the saviour there are many admirable and veritable _chefs d'�uvre_ of originality and brilliancy to be found. the industry of bronze and goldsmith's work in religious objects is very flourishing and gives occupation to numerous workmen and artists in moscow and st. petersburg. an imperial manufactory produces the mosaics which occupy such a great place in the decoration of the churches. industrial arts are very prosperous in russia and have made great progress during the last century: silken goods are no longer imported from lyons; and the russian cabinet-makers produce beautiful furniture, not only in their national style, but in the purest forms of french art of the louis xv. and louis xvi. styles. civil goldsmith's work and jewellery have also been benefited by the national renaissance: the emperor alexander iii. restored to honour the national feminine costume for official balls, and ordered works of art to be made after the models of the muscovite style, and indeed even after the marvels found in the excavations of the cimmerian bosphorus. the religious images, particularly those made in moscow and kazan, come very near being works of art. numerous manufactories produce icons painted on wood or copper, ornamented with reliefs of copper, _crysocale_, silver, silver-gilt and gold. the workmen are monks and peasants: each part of the icon--eyes, nose, mouth, hands and feet--is executed by a specialist who always makes the same thing, after the immutable types that the muscovite convents received from mount athos. _russian music_ _a. e. keeton_ russian music is the strangest paradox--it owes more to the music of other countries than any other school, yet no music is more thoroughly individual and unmistakable. it clothes itself after the form and fashion of its neighbours, but beneath its garb peeps out a physiognomy indubitably sclavonic. its utterances impress us as the most modern--yet the student who would correctly analyze many of its unique characteristics of harmony and modulation is often obliged to take a flying leap backwards over a space of centuries in order to investigate old church modes, or persian and arabian scale systems, both so ancient as to be well-nigh forgotten in western europe. sixty years ago, there was no russian school of music, properly speaking; then suddenly it sprang into being. the wonderful rapidity of its growth almost confuses one. its exponents at once displayed the astonishing receptiveness common to their race. _d'un trait_, as the french would say, they appropriated the knowledge and experience which the italian and german schools had been slowly amassing for centuries. technique, form, counterpoint--all these they found ready made to their hand, and borrowed them unstintingly. had they done this and no more, the onlooker might have dismissed them as clever plagairists, and probably no one would have paid them any further attention. but they had other means at their disposal. their country contained a treasure-house of native melody and rhythm; a region albeit which few russians had hitherto thought it worth their while to explore. it is true that, since the middle of the seventeenth century, tentative excursions had been made in this direction from time to time, chiefly, though, by outsiders settled in russia, nor had any of their efforts led to very appreciable results. the man who first turned with serious intent to the pent-up musical resources of his own country was michael ivanovitch glinka. he had sufficient strength of purpose to carry out his designs--he became the founder of the modern russian school of music and the father of russian opera. glinka belonged to a good if not very wealthy family, who lived upon their estate in the government of smolensk, where he was born in . from babyhood upwards he delighted his friends and relations by his aptitude not for music alone, but also for languages, literature, zoology, botany--in fact, for each and every intellectual pursuit which came in his way. the brilliance of his college course in st. petersburg was noteworthy. he quitted it to occupy a civil post under government, a position, however, which he soon abandoned, in order to devote himself solely to music. like so many other men of genius, he married a woman quite incapable of comprehending his artistic aims and ambitions; to quote the words of a russian writer, madame glinka, _née_ maria petrovna, "was only a pretty doll, who loved society and fine clothes, and had no sympathy whatever with her husband's romantic, poetic side." one is glad to state that glinka never had to struggle with poverty. he died at berlin in . he did for russian music what his contemporary, pushkin, did for russian literature, each in his own department representing a national movement. perhaps it is not too far-fetched a theory to trace this movement to the momentous date of , when it fell to the lot of russia to administer the first check in napoleon's triumphant career. ever since the reign of peter the great it had been the fashion to ape foreign habits, to speak foreign tongues, to import foreign music, to mimic foreign literature. but when a foreign invader, who had marched all-conquering through the rest of europe, appeared in serious earnest at the very gates of moscow, there was a rebound: slumbering patriotism awoke with a great shout, and, united by a common danger, all classes gathered together for the protection of their tsar and their kremlin. to have repulsed a napoleon was a mighty deed, which could reveal to the russians of what stuff they were made. it taught them to rely upon each other and be strong in themselves; and as the art of a nation is invariably the outcome of its history, so the rising generation of russian thinkers looked inwards rather than abroad. glinka, pushkin, and their followers sought no foreign aid; they represent a russian renaissance. they were content, indeed, to abide by the forms universally adopted elsewhere, but the spirit of their art manifestation was russian to its core. in literature, pushkin and gogol were never weary of delineating their compatriots in every grade of sclavonic society, whilst glinka took his musical inspirations from his native folk-songs and dance-rhythms--from the historic chronicles of his country or its legendary lore. in reality, the foreign influences and environment with which he came so continuously into contact served more and more to convince him that russia in her turn had as great a mission in music as any other nation. for thirty years the idea was gradually gaining strength in his mind. "i want," he said to a friend, "to write an essentially national opera both as regards subject and music; something which no foreigner can possibly accuse of being borrowed, and which shall come home to my compatriots as a part of themselves." his fame depends solely upon the two operas, _la vie pour le tsar_ and _russlan et ludmille_. that he should have chosen to express himself especially in opera is a significant fact. the unerring instinct of his genius evidently told him that in this form, rather than in purely instrumental music, he would most truly represent that people whose musical aspirations he wished above all else to portray faithfully, and certainly in opera lay his surest way towards enlisting the sympathies of his compatriots. as before remarked, one might have imagined that opera would scarcely ally itself to his personal individuality; it seems probable, therefore, that various salient traits inherent in the russians as a nation must have led him to the choice. first and foremost, any music which claims to proceed from the very heart of the russian people must contain a vocal element. so universal a love of singing as exists throughout russia is to be met with in no other country. by this one does not mean to infer that russian cultivated singing, either solo or choral, is in any way superior to what is heard elsewhere. the russian peasant knows absolutely nothing about voice production, nor, maybe, is he gifted with any unusual vocal material, nevertheless, singing is closely bound up with every rural event of his cheerless existence. during the last half-century many hundreds of the native melodies sung by the russian country people for generations past have been collected and written down by different musicians--balakireff, rimsky-korsakoff, prokoudin, and lisenko amongst others. the variety of these folk-songs is astonishing. they never become monotonous, each song having its distinctive climax, and the air always suits the words. often the untutored singer has one melody in his _répertoire_, but intuitively he modifies its strains according to the sentiment of his subject. this general love of music applies as much to the noble as to the peasant. "where there is a sclav there is a song," says a sclavonic proverb, and no public ceremony or court function is ever deemed complete in russia without an outburst of singing to heighten its impressiveness. there is besides a marked dramatic ingredient in the sclavonic character. the typical russian loves acting. to discover this, it is only necessary to visit a russian village and witness the unconscious presentments of lyric drama or of desolate tragedy set forth by the quaint rites of a country wedding or a rustic funeral. or study a russian legend. it at once impresses you with its wealth of dramatic situations most concisely defined. in this, the sclavonic folktale differs radically from its celtic neighbour. a comparison of the two types suggests that the russian principally desires a clear statement of facts; a poetic idea which must be extracted from clouds of metaphor conveys but little significance to his mind. an innate love of song, an innate love of acting, a keen perception of dramatic unity, combined with a passionate love of colour and a strong sense of movement--here surely, without any manner of doubt, one has the basis of a well-nigh perfect school of opera. glinka, the cultivated musician, himself a russian, thoroughly appreciated these national qualities; indeed they were part and parcel of his birthright. he could assimilate the characteristics of his race and merge them into his own very remarkable originality. the first product of the combined motors was _la vie pour le tsar_, given at st. petersburg in . fifty years later it had reached its th performance, and from all accounts it still retains an undiminished popularity. [illustration: the theater, odessa.] if we dissect this opera and examine its wonderful mastery of technique and its depth of musical inspiration, it displays beauties which cannot fail to appeal to connoisseurs of every race and school. but regarded as a whole, one is inclined to doubt its ever becoming a standard work outside its native home. its true scope and meaning can only be justly estimated by a public acquainted with russia herself, with her people, her history and her innermost modes of thought. glinka attached the highest value to the folk-song, of which, as already stated, he found a treasure trove ready to his hand. nothing, though, was further from his thoughts than to employ this material in _pot-pourri_ style. russians themselves are all agreed that it would be difficult to select one whole folk-song from any single work of glinka's. it would naturally require a native of russia with an accurate knowledge of these native tunes to tell us exactly when and where he used them. he seized their mood. in this way he developed every species of sclavonic folk-song--great russian, little russian, circassian, polish, finnish--with a passing flavour contributed by persia, for undoubtedly oriental music had, at some remote period, influenced its sclavonic neighbour very strongly. glinka may be said to have attained his end almost unconscious of his mode of procedure. determined to compose russian music, he pursued his idea unremittingly, but it was only towards the close of his life that he began to seriously analyze his effects, asking himself whence he had obtained them and in what essential points they exhibited their nationality. this inquiry involved him in a field of research bewildering in its magnitude, and one which his early death unfortunately prevented him from thoroughly investigating. nor is the task by any means completed now, some forty years later, although many russian musicians have thrown considerable light upon its varied aspects. the first step towards a folk-song analysis was the collecting of the melodies in sufficient numbers for comparison. so much being done, it flashed upon glinka that there was an intimate connection between the russian folk-song and the most ancient russian church music. that is to say, the melody and the freedom of rhythm typical of the folk-song had been evolved by the people, whilst its harmonization, in which lay one of its most striking essentialities, had been bequeathed it by the church. from all that can be gathered concerning music in muscovy prior to the introduction of christianity, it seems justifiable to admit that harmony, or part singing, was already practised amongst the inhabitants, in what manner it is impossible to conjecture. at any rate, when the church of byzantium took root there, the sclav was sufficiently advanced musically to imbibe a new idea. we know that the byzantine church modes were purely diatonic, so is the harmonization of the russian folk-song in its most elementary and uncorrupted form. that the one produced the other is a most natural conclusion. in the oldest of the russian national melodies glinka discovered the most clearly defined type of the earliest christian songs on record. a wonderful testimony this to the indwelling religious spirit of the russian people, who change but little and who are singularly tenacious of their customs in spite of all their ready receptiveness. in one sense the folk-song is as rude and hardy as its singer; from another point of view it is a shy, delicate emanation shrinking from all human intercourse outside its own small coterie of familiar voices. in russia, as in every other country, it has had to be sought in the remote steppes and far-off districts where foreign influences had never penetrated, and by a curious inverse process its harmonies, of course, transmitted orally, were the means of preserving the byzantine church tonality long after this "first cause" had accepted chromatic and enharmonic modulations. in the chief russian cities and more opened-up parts of the country, the italian, french, and later on german elements gradually formed themselves into church as well as secular music, and only within the last sixty years have attempts been made to restore this to its pristine and, perhaps it may be added, somewhat monotonous purity. the minor key in which the sclavonic folksong was usually couched, together with its extraordinary variety of rhythm and phrase, protected it from this monotony, the minor keys having infinitely richer resources of colour, even when strictly diatonically treated, than the major. sclavonic music figures so constantly upon every concert programme in these days that we are probably most of us accustomed to its vagaries of rhythm, or what may be styled irregularity of metre. this is a direct heritage from the folk-song, which glinka and his successors have borrowed largely. the leading musical spirits of his day were quick to accredit him a kindred genius. berlioz welcomed him gladly, and furthered his cause by eloquent writing as well as by obtaining him a hearing in paris. liszt was another enthusiastic "glinkite," and schumann, unfailingly keen to notice new talent pursuing a new path, speedily drew attention to a russian who was doing for the music of his country what chopin and moniusco had done for poland. rubinstein, who was still a boy when glinka's sun was near setting, grew up with a warm admiration for the founder of his native school, and in he spent some of his ardour upon a highly laudatory article in the _wiener zeitschrift fir musik_, placing glinka on a par with beethoven. glinka thoroughly detesting anything that savoured of flattery, took the young musician soundly to task for his pains; but rubinstein remained true to his tenets, and later on, when years had matured his judgment, we find him including the name of glinka with that of bach, beethoven, schubert and chopin, as the chief germinators of modern music; whilst one of the last acts of his generous public career was a concert given in aid of a national monument to the composer of _la vie pour le tsar_. with one or two minor exceptions, successive russian masters have followed faithfully in glinka's footsteps. to borodine, dargomijsky, seroff, balakireff, and rimsky-korsakoff a full meed of nationality has been granted. to rubinstein and tscháikowski criticism is at present disposed to deny the quality in its most salient features. but their prolific mass of compositions has so far scarcely been sufficiently explored outside their own russian domain for a final judgment to be hazarded. a nearer inspection of their work, indeed, together with a more accurate study of russian art as a whole, distinctly leads to the opinion that a revolution of feeling may eventually spring up, especially on the subject of their operas. also rubinstein's dramatic works, now mostly dismissed by foreigners as his weakest productions, may in due course be accepted as his finest creations. from the different reasons previously deduced there can be little doubt that in opera glinka purposely laid the corner-stone of what he earnestly believed to be a true russian school, and a glance at contemporary musical activity shows that here russia has every opportunity for distinguishing herself, and that with very little competition. _russian literature_ _w. r. morfill_ of the russian there are the following chief dialects--great, little, and white russian. the great russian is the literary and official language of the empire. in its structure it is highly synthetic, having three genders and seven cases, and the nouns and adjectives being fully inflected. its great peculiarity (which it shares in common with all the sclavonic languages), is the structure of the verbs, which are divided into so-called "aspects," which modify the meaning, just as the latin terminations _sco, urio_, and _ita_, only the forms are developed into a more perfect system. the letters employed are the cyrillian, held to have been invented by st. cyril in the ninth century. they are on the whole well adapted to express the many sounds of the russian alphabet, for which the latin letters would be wholly inadequate, and must perforce be employed in some such uncouth combinations as those which communicate a grotesque appearance to polish. it would be out of place here to discuss the ecclesiastical sclavonic employed in so many of the early writings composed in russian. i shall proceed to speak of the literature in russian properly so-called. the great epochs of this will be-- i. from the earliest times to the reign of peter the great. ii. from the reign of peter the great to our own time. the russians, like the rest of the sclavonic peoples are very rich in national songs, many (as one may judge from the allusions found in them), going back to a remote antiquity. for a long time, and especially during the period of french influence, these productions were neglected. in the last twenty years, however, they have been assiduously collected by bezsonov, kirievski, rîbnikov, hilferding and others. the russian legendary poems are called _bîlini_ (literally, tales of old time), and may be most conveniently divided into the following classes:-- . that of the earlier heroes. . the cycle of vladimir. . the royal, or moscow cycle. the early heroes are of a half-mythical type, and perform prodigies of valour. to this class belong volga vseslavich, mikoula selianinovich and sviatogor. the great glory of the cycle of vladimir is ilya murometz. the _bîlinas_ are filled with his magnificent exploits, either alone, or in the company of sviatogor. the national songs are carried on through the troublous times of boris godunov, and the false dimitri, to the days of peter the great, when they seem to have acquired new vigour on account of the military achievements of the regenerator of his country. nor are they extinct in our own time, for we find exploits of napoleon, especially his disastrous expedition to russia, made the subject of verse. the interest, however, of these legendary poems fades away as we advance into later days. the number of minstrels is rapidly diminishing; and riabanin, and his companions among the great russians, and ostap veresai among the malo-russians, will probably be the last of these generations of rhapsodists, who have transmitted their traditional chants from father to son, from tutor to pupil. a great feature in russian literature is the collection of chronicles, which begin with nestor, monk of the pestcherski cloister at kiev, who was born about a. d. , and died about . during the time when russia groaned under the yoke of the mongols, the nation remained silent, except here and there, perhaps, in some legendary song, sung among peasants, and destined subsequently to be gathered from oral tradition by a rîbnikov and a hilferding. such literature as was cultivated formed the recreation of the monks in their cells. a new era, however, was to come. ivan iii. established the autocracy and made moscow the centre of the new government. the russians naturally looked to constantinople as the centre of their civilization; and even when the city was taken by the turks its influence did not cease. many learned greeks fled to russia, and found an hospitable reception in the dominions of the grand duke. during the reigns of ivan the terrible and his immediate successors, although the material progress of the country was considerably advanced, and a strong government founded, yet little was done for learning. simeon polotzki ( - ), tutor to the tsar feodor, son of alexis, was an indefatigable writer of religious and educational books, but his productions can now only interest the antiquarian. the verses composed by him on the new palace built by the tsar alexis, at kolomenski are deliciously quaint. of a more important character is the sketch of the russian government, and the habits of the people, written by one koshikin (or kotoshikin--for the name is found in both forms), a renegade diak or secretary, which, after having lain for a long time in manuscript in the library of upsala, in sweden, was edited in , by the russian historian soloviev. kotoshikin terminated a life of strange vicissitudes by perishing at the hands of the public executioner at stockholm, about . with the reforms of peter the great commences an entirely new period in the history of russian literature, which was now to be under western influence. the epoch was inaugurated by lomonosov, the son of a poor fisherman of archangel, who forms one of the curious band of peasant authors--of very various merit, it must be confessed--who present such an unexpected phenomenon in russian literature. occasionally we have men of real genius, as in the cases of koltzov, nikitin, and shevchenko, the great glory of southern russia; sometimes, perhaps, a man whose abilities have been overrated as in the instance of slepoushkin. lemonosov is more praised than read by his countrymen. his turgid odes, stuffed with classical allusions, in praise of anne and elizabeth, are still committed to memory by pupils at educational establishments. his panegyrics are certainly fulsome, but probably no worse than those of boileau in praise of louis xiv., who grovelled without the excuse of the imperfectly educated scythian. the reign of catherine ii. ( - ), saw the rise of a whole generation of court poets. the great maxim, "_un auguste peut aisément faire un virgile_," was seen in all its absurdity in semi-barbarous russia. these wits were supported by the empress and her immediate _entourage_, to whom their florid productions were ordinarily addressed. [illustration: the library, odessa.] from byzantine traditions, from legends of saints, from confused chronicles, and orthodox hymnologies, russia was to pass by one of the most violent changes ever witnessed in the literature of any country, into epics moulded upon the _henriade_, and tedious odes in the style of boileau and jean baptiste rousseau. oustrialov, the historian, truly characterizes most of the voluminous writers of this epoch, as mediocre verse makers, for claiming merits in the cases of bogdanovich, khemnitzer, von vizin, dmitriev, and derzhavin. bogdanovich wrote a very pretty lyric piece, styled _dushenka_ based on the story of cupid and psyche, and partly imitated from lafontaine, with a sportive charm about the verse which will preserve it from becoming obsolete. with khemnitzer begin the fabulists. but i shall reserve my remarks upon this species of literature and its russian votaries until i come to krîlov, who may be said to be one of the few sclavonic authors who have gained a reputation beyond the limits of their own country. in denis von vizin, born at moscow, but as his name shows, of german extraction, russia saw a writer of genuine national comedy. hitherto she had to content herself with poor imitations of molière. his two plays, the _brigadier_ and the _minor_ (_nederosl_), have much original talent. no such vigorous representations of character appeared again on the stage till _the misfortune of being too clever_ (_gore et ouma_) of griboiedov, and the _revisor_ of gogol. dmitriev deserves perhaps no more than a passing mention. the name of derzhavin is spoken of with reverence among his countrymen: he was the laureate of the epoch of catherine, and had a fresh ode for every new military glory. there is much fire and vigour in his productions and he could develop the strength and flexibility of his native language which can be made as expressive and concise as greek. perhaps, however, we get a little tired of his endless perfections of felitza, the name under which he celebrates the empress catherine, a woman who--whatever her private faults may have been,--did a great deal for russia. in nicholas karamzin appeared the first russian historian who can properly claim the title. his poems are almost forgotten: here and there we come upon a solitary lyric in a book of extracts. his _history of the russian empire_, however, is a work of extensive research, and must always be quoted with respect by sclavonic scholars. unfortunately, it only extends to the election of michael romanov. karamzin was followed by nicholas polevoi, son of a siberian merchant, who hardly left any species of literature untouched. his _history of the russian people_, however, did not add to his reputation, and is now almost forgotten. in later times both these authors have been eclipsed by such writers as soloviev and kostomarov. a new and more critical school of russian historians has sprung up; but for the early history of the sclavonic peoples, the great work is still schafarik's _sclavonic antiquities_, first published in the bohemian language, and more familiar to scholars in the west of europe in its german version. with the breaking up of old forms of government caused by the french revolution, came the dislocation of the old conventional modes of thought. classicism in literature was dead, having weighed like an incubus upon the fancy and fresh life of many generations. england and germany were at the head of the new movement, which was at a later period to be joined to france. the influence was to extend to russia, and may be said to date from the reign of alexander i. it was headed by zhukovski, who was rather a fluent translator than an original poet. he has given excellent versions of schiller, goethe, moore, and byron, and has better enriched the literature of his country in this way than by his original productions. he had, however, some lyric fire of his own; the ode entitled _the poet in the camp of the russian warriors_, written in the memorable year , did something to stimulate the national feelings, and procure for the poet a good appointment at court. in alexander pushkin, the russians were destined to find their greatest poet. his first work, _rouslan and lioudmilla_, was a tale of half-mythical times, in which the influence of byron was clearly visible, but the author had never allowed himself to become a mere copyist. the same may be said of _the prisoner of the caucasus_, in which pushkin had an opportunity of describing the romantic scenery of that wild country, which was then entirely new ground. in the _fountain of bakchiserai_ he chose an episode in the history of the khans of the crimea, which he has handled very poetically. the _gipsies_ is a wild oriental tale of passion and vengeance. the poet, who had been spending some time amid the steppes of bessarabia, has left us wonderful pictures of the wandering tribes and their savage life. many russians consider the _evgenié oniegin_ of pushkin to be his best effort. it is a powerfully written love-story, full of sketches of modern life, interspersed with satire and pathos. a criticism of pushkin would necessarily be imperfect, which left out of all consideration his drama on the subject of _boris godunov_. here he has used shakespeare as his model. up to this time the traditions of the russian stage--such as they were--were wholly french. the piece is undoubtedly very clever, and conceived with true dramatic power. since pushkin's attempt, the historical drama based upon the english, has been very successfully cultivated. a fine trilogy has been composed by count a. tolstoi (whose premature death all russia deplored), on the three subjects, _the death of ivan the terrible_ ( ), _the tsar feodor_ ( ) and the _tsar boris_ ( ). the russian fabulists, whose name is legion, demand some mention; khemnitzer, dmitriev, ivanov and others, have attempted this style of poetry; but the most celebrated of all is ivan krilov ( - ). many of his short sentences have become proverbs among the russian people, like the couplets of lafontaine among the french, and butler's _hudibras_ among ourselves. his pictures of life and manners are most thoroughly national. in koltzov the true voice of the people, which had before only expressed itself in the national ballads was heard. the life of this sensitive and warm-hearted man of genius was clouded by poverty and suffering. the poems of koltzov are written, for the most part, in an unrhymed verse; the sharp, well-defined accent in russian amply satisfying the ear, as in german. his poetical taste had been nurtured by the popular lays of his country. he has caught their colouring as truly as burns did that of the scottish minstrelsy. he is unquestionably the most national poet that russia has produced; slepoushkin and alipanov, two other peasant poets, who made some little noise in their time, cannot for one moment be compared with him; but, on the other hand, he has been excelled by the fiery energy and picturesque power of the cossack, taras shevchenko, of whom i shall speak. since the death of pushkin, lermontov alone has appeared to dispute the poetical crown with him. the short life of this author ( - ), ended in the same way as pushkin's--in a duel provoked by himself. many of his lyrics are exquisite, and have become standard poems in russia, such as the _gifts of terek_ and _the cradle song of the cossack mother_. in gogol, who died in , the russians had to lament the loss of a keen and vigorous satirist. with a happy humour reminding us of dickens in his best moods, he has sketched all classes of society in the _dead souls_, perhaps the cleverest of all russian novels. no one, also has reproduced the scenery and habits of little russia, of which he was a native, more vigorously than gogol, whether in the pictures of country life in his _old-fashioned household_ (if we may translate in so free a manner the title _starovetskie pomestchiki_), or in the wilder sketches of the struggles which took place between the poles and cossacks in _taras boulba_. in the _portrait_ and _memoirs of a madman_, gogol shows a weird power, which may be compared with that of the fantastic american, edgar allan poe. besides his novels, he wrote a brilliant comedy called the _revisor_, dealing with the evils of bureaucracy. towards the end of the year , died nicholas nekrasov, the most remarkable poet produced by russia since lermontov. he has left six volumes of poetry, of a peculiarly realistic type, chiefly dwelling upon the misfortunes of the russian peasantry, and putting before us most forcibly the dull grey tints of their monotonous and purposeless lives. i have not space to enumerate here even the most prominent russian novelists. no account, however, of their literature would be anything like complete which omitted the name of ivan tourgheniev, whose reputation is european. with the russians the english novel of the realistic type is the fashionable model. in this branch of literature, french influences have hardly been felt at all. the historical novel--an echo of the great romances of sir walter scott--had its cultivators in such writers as zagoskin and lazhechnikov; but at the present time, with the exception of the recent productions of count tolstoi, it is a form of literature as dead in russia as in our own country. the novel of domestic life bids fair to swallow up all the rest, and it is to this that the russians are devoting their attention. tourgheniev first made a name by his _memoirs of a sportsman_, a powerfully written work, in which harrowing descriptions are given of the miserable condition of the russian serfs. since the publication of this novel, or rather series of sketches, he has written a succession of able works of the same kind, in which all classes of russian society have been reviewed. no more pathetic tale than the _gentleman's retreat_ (_dvorianskoe gnezdo_) can be shown in the literature of any country. there are touches in it worthy of george eliot. in _fathers and children_ and _smoke_, tourgheniev has grappled with the nihilistic ideas which for a long time have been so current in russia. the study of russian history, so well commenced by karamzin, has been further developed by oustrialov and soloviev. the malo-russian is very rich in _skazki_ (national tales) and in songs. peculiar to them is the _douma_, a kind of narrative poem, in which the metre is generally very irregular; but a sort of rhythm is preserved by the recurrence of accentuated syllables. the _douma_ of the little russians corresponds to the _bîlina_ of the great russians. as might naturally be expected, most malo-russian authors of eminence, have preferred using the great russian, notably gogol, who however is very fond of introducing provincial expressions which require a glossary. the foundation of the malo-russian cultivated literature was laid by the travisty of the _Æneid_, by kotliarevski, which enjoys great popularity among his countrymen. a truly national poet appeared in taras shevchenko, born a serf in the government of kiev, at the village of kirilovka. of the literature of the white russians, but little need be said, as it is very scanty, amounting to a few collections of songs edited by shein, bezsonov and others. _present conditions_ _e. s._ nicholas i., tsar of all the russias (born in ), the eldest son of alexander iii. and the princess dagmar, daughter of king christian ix. of denmark, ascended the throne on the death of his father in . he is descended from michael romanof, elected tsar in , after the extinction of the house of rurik, and also from the oldenburg family. nicholas ii. was married in to princess alexandra alix (alexandra feodorovina), daughter of ludwig iv., grand duke of hesse, and alice maud mary, daughter of queen victoria. their four daughters are: olga (born ); tatiana (born ); marie (born ); and anastasia (born ). the grand duke michael (born ), brother of the emperor, is the heir presumptive. the emperor's vast revenue is derived from crown domains: the amount is unknown, as no reference is made in the budgets or finance accounts. it consists, however, of more than a million of square miles of cultivated lands and forests, besides gold and other mines in siberia. [illustration: the tsar nicholas.] russia is an absolute hereditary monarchy. the emperor's will is law, and in him the whole legislative, executive and judicial power is united. the administration of the empire is entrusted to four great boards or councils: the council of the state; the ruling senate; the holy synod; and the committee of ministers. the council of state, established by alexander i. in , consists of a president nominated every year by the emperor and a large number of members appointed by him. this council is divided into four departments: legislation; civil and church administration; state's economy and industry; sciences and commerce. the ruling senate, founded by peter i. in , is really the high court of justice for the empire. it is divided into six departments, or sections. the holy synod, founded by peter i. in , has charge of the religious affairs of the empire. its members are the metropolitans of st. petersburg, moscow and kief, the archbishop of georgia and several bishops who sit in turn. the president is antonious, the metropolitan of st. petersburg. the emperor has to approve of all the decisions of the holy synod. european russia consists of russia proper ( provinces), poland ( provinces), and finland (grand duchy). the population in was respectively, , , ; , , ; and , , . asiatic russia consists of caucasia ( provinces; population , , ); siberia ( provinces and regions; population , , ); and central asia ( provinces and regions; population , , ). russian subjects in khiva and bokhara number , . of the total population , , , , , were men and , , , women. in european russia the annual increase of population is at the rate of nearly a million and a half. the chief cities of european russia are st. petersburg ( , , ); moscow ( , ); warsaw ( , ); odessa ( , ); lodz ( , ); riga ( , ); kief ( , ); kharkoff ( , ); tiflis ( , ); vilna ( , ); tashkend ( , ); saratov ( , ); kasan ( , ); ekaterinoslav ( , ); rostov-on-the-don ( , ); astrakhan ( , ); baku ( , ); tula ( , ), and kishineff( , ). the population of novgorod, samara, minsk and nikolaieff is between , and , . tiflis and baku in the caucasus have respective populations of , and , . the largest towns in the trans-caspia are askhabad ( , ) and merv ( , ), and those of turkestan are tashkend, namangan samarkand and andijan. there are about , in each of the siberian towns of tomsk, irkutsk and ekaterinburg. [illustration: the tsarina.] there has been no census since , but in the population of st. petersburg was , , ; moscow, , , ; and riga, , . the mortality in the towns is so great that the deaths exceed the births. emigration is on the increase, and, of late years, the russians, particularly the jews, flock to the united states, chiefly through hamburg, lübeck and bremen. in , , emigrated to the united states; , to argentina; and numbers to canada and brazil. emigration to siberia varies from year to year, but is on the increase. in , , went and in from , to , . there is also much emigration to the southern ural and the steppe provinces. in european russia, there is an average of a town or village to every four or seven square miles, and in the caucasus, one to every nine square miles; but in asiatic russia the average varies; for example, in samarkand there is one to every fourteen square miles, and in the province of yakutsk, one to every , square miles. the principal ports are st. petersburg, cronstadt, narva, riga, libau, pernau and vindau (on the baltic); hango (on the gulf of bothnia); revel, helsingförs and wiborg (on the gulf of finland); archangel and ekaterinsk (arctic and white seas); odessa, nicolaieff, sebastopol, nova-rossiisk, berdiansk and batoum, taganrog, marinpol, rostov and kertch (on the black sea and sea of azov); astrakhan, derbent and baku (on the caspian sea); nicolaieffsk, vladivostok and petrapaulovsk in kamtchatka; and port arthur and dalni or ta-lien-wan (gulf of pechili), have been occupied since the russo-chinese treaty of . the established religion is the russo-greek, or græco-russian, known officially as the orthodox catholic faith. it maintains the relations of a sister church with the four patriarchates of constantinople, antioch, jerusalem and alexandria. the emperor is the head of the church. the russian empire is divided into bishoprics, under metropolitans, archbishops and bishops; in , there were , churches ( of which were cathedrals), and monasteries. with the exception of the jewish, all religions are allowed to be professed. there are more than , , dissenters scattered throughout the empire. the numbers are: orthodox greek, , , ; dissenters, , , ; roman catholic, , , ; protestants, , , ; other christians, , , ; mohammedans, , , ; jews, , , ; and other religions, , . in , the holy synod received , , roubles from the imperial budget, besides other revenue and gifts. the empire is divided into educational districts: st. petersburg, moscow, kasan, orenburg, kharkoff, odessa, kief, vilna, warsaw, riga, caucasus, turkestan, west siberia, east siberia and amur. in some of the primary village schools, there are school-gardens, while bee-keeping and silk-worm culture, as well as trades and handiwork, are taught. in , the ministers contributed , , roubles for schools and universities. the universities are in moscow ( , students in ); st. petersburg ( , ); kief ( , ); kharkov ( , ); dorpat ( , ); warsaw ( , ); kasan ( ); odessa ( , ); and tomsk ( ). helsingfors, finland, had , students in - . since military service has been obligatory for all men from the age of . the period of service in european russia is five years in the active army (reduced by furloughs to four) in the zapas those who have passed through active service and five years in the opolchenie, or reserve; in asiatic russia, seven years in the active army and six in the zapas; and in caucasia, three years in the active army and in the zapas. the opolchenie is a reserve force of drilled conscripts. the cossacks (don, kuban terek, astrakhan, orenburg, ural, siberia, semiryetchensk, transbaikalia, amur and usuri) are divided in three classes; the first in active service, the second on furlough with their arms and horses; the third with arms and without horses. some of the cossack cavalry serves with the regular cavalry. military service is also obligatory in finland. the russian army consists of corps. the lowest estimate of its peace strength is about , , with , officers; the war strength about , officers, , , men and , horses. owing to its widely separated seas, the russian navy maintains four squadrons: the baltic, the black sea, the pacific and the caspian. cronstadt is the chief base of the baltic fleet; sebastopol of the black sea; and vladivostok and port arthur of the pacific. the caspian fleet is comparatively insignificant. in , the navy consisted of battleships, coast defence ships, first-class cruisers, second-class cruisers, gunboats and torpedo craft. the ocean shipping of the russian empire is not relatively large, but its lake and river shipping is very extensive. in , the sea-going marine consisted of , sailing vessels and steamers. the total length of railway open for traffic and travel on january , , was , miles (not including , miles in finland). of this , miles were in asiatic russia. the legal unit of money is the silver rouble of kopecks of the value of s. . d., or about fifty cents of american money. the coins called imperial and half-imperial contain and - / roubles respectively. there are also credit notes of , , , , and rouble. russia's chief source of revenue is the liquor traffic. her chief exports are spirits, tallow, wool, tow, bristles, timber, hides and skins, grain, raw and dressed flax, linseed and hemp. her principal imports are tea, cotton and other colonial produce, iron, machinery, wool, wine, fruits, vegetables and oil. russia is the second largest european grower of wheat. hemp, flax, potatoes and tobacco are also raised in large quantities. barley, buckwheat, oats, millet and rye form the staple food of the inhabitants. mines of great value exist in the ural, obdorsk and altai mountains, which produce gold, copper, iron, silver, platinum, rock-salt, marble and kaolin or china clay. rich naphtha springs exist on the caspian and an immense bed of coal has been discovered between the donetz and dnieper rivers. the grand duchy of finland, which russia conquered from sweden and finally annexed in , had a population in of about , , ( , , finns; , swedes; , russians; , germans; and , laps). the chief religion is the lutheran. the capital is helsingfors with a population of , , including the russian garrison. the tsar of russia is the grand duke; lieut.-gen. n. bobrikov, the governor-general; and v. von plehwe, secretary of state. the diet, convoked triennially, consists of nobles, clergy, burgesses and peasants, but the country is chiefly governed by the imperial finnish senate of twenty-two members. the army consists of nine battalions of finnish rifles ( , men), and one regiment of dragoons ( men, with a reserve of , ). the chief export is timber and the chief industry iron mines. in , the marine comprised , vessels of , tons. bokhara and khiva in central asia are vassal states of russia. bokhara, bounded on the north by russian turkestan, was once the most famous state of central asia. genghis khan took it from the arabs in the thirteenth century, and it was taken by the uzbegs, fanatical sunni mahommedans of turkish extraction, in . after the russian capture of tashkend in , the amir muzeffared-din proclaimed a holy war against the russians, who invaded his province and captured samarkand in . by a treaty of , no foreigner may be admitted into bokhara without a russian passport. the population is estimated at , , . the amir syed abdul ahad succeeded in . the uzbegs are still the dominant race. the religion is mahommedan. the chief towns are bokhara (about , ) and karshi ( , ). the chief products are sheep, goats, camels, horses, rice, cotton, silk, corn, fruit, hemp and tobacco. gold, salt, alum and sulphur are the chief minerals. there are cotton, woollen and silk manufacturers. many indian goods such as shawls, tea, drugs, indigo and muslins are imported. the amir has , troops, , of which are quartered in bokhara. the russian trans-caspian railway runs through bokhara and there is steam navigation on the oxus. a telegraph connects bokhara with tashkend. the conquest of khiva, another uzbeg state also founded on the ruins of tamerlane's central asian empire, was attempted by peter the great in and again in by the tsar nicholas. on the pretext that the khivans had aided the rebellious kirghiz, the russians invaded khiva in and forced the khan to sign a treaty putting the khanate under russian government. the reigning sovereign is seyid mahomed rahim khan who succeeded his father in . he was born about . the population is estimated at , , including , nomad turcomans. the principal towns are khiva (about , ) and new urgenj ( , ). the religion is mahommedan. the army consists of about , men. the chief productions are silk and cotton. [illustration: kalkstrasse and the promenade, riga.] in , russia obtained a lease of twenty-five years from china of point arthur and ta-lien-wan with the adjacent seas and territory to the north. to this the name of kwang-tung was given in . port arthur, the capital, is a naval station for russian and chinese ships. at the end of the port a new town, dalni, has been founded; it is connected by rail with the trans-siberian railway system. russia's history in was marked by general disquietude and turbulence. the disorders among the peasantry in led to a special committee being appointed to inquire into and ameliorate their condition and also to improve agriculture. on march , , the tsar issued a manifesto promising reform in the government of local towns and tolerance in religion. as little or no improvement was noticed, strike riots resulted in slatoust (ufa) and at nijni-novgorod, and riots also broke out in the university of st. petersburg. in may, the governor of ufa was assassinated. to these disturbances, the anti-semitic outrages were encouraged at kishineff (bessarabia) when forty-five jews were killed, injured, houses demolished, and houses sacked. strike riots also broke out in south russia and the caucasus, particularly in the towns of kief, odessa, baku, rostov, nikolaieff. many smaller towns also suffered loss of life. military troops were called out to quell the rioters. the policy of russification was carried on in finland as well as in the more recent acquisitions. the chief interest, however, lay in the extension of russia's diplomatic and military policy in the far east under admiral alexeieff (appointed august , ). a letter to american workingmen _from the socialist soviet republic of russia_ by n. lenin reprinted from the class struggle december, price-- cents new york the socialist publication society pulaski st., brooklyn, n. y. december, [illustration] a letter to american workingmen by n. lenin. moscow, august , . comrades: a russian bolshevik who participated in the revolution of and for many years afterwards lived in your country has offered to transmit this letter to you. i have grasped this opportunity joyfully for the revolutionary proletariat of america--insofar as it is the enemy of american imperialism--is destined to perform an important task at this time. the history of modern civilized america opens with one of those really revolutionary wars of liberation of which there have been so few compared with the enormous number of wars of conquest that were caused, like the present imperialistic war, by squabbles among kings, landholders and capitalists over the division of ill-gotten lands and profits. it was a war of the american people against the english who despoiled america of its resources and held in colonial subjection, just as their "civilized" descendants are draining the life-blood of hundreds of millions of human beings in india, egypt and all corners and ends of the world to keep them in subjection. since that war years have passed. bourgeois civilization has born its most luxuriant fruit. by developing the productive forces of organized human labor, by utilizing machines and all the wonders of technique america has taken the first place among free and civilized nations. but at the same time america, like a few other nations, has become characteristic for the depth of the abyss that divide a handful of brutal millionaires who are stagnating in a mire of luxury, and millions of laboring starving men and women who are always staring want in the face. four years of imperialistic slaughter have left their trace. irrefutably and clearly events have shown to the people that both imperialistic groups, the english as well as the german, have been playing false. the four years of war have shown in their effects the great law of capitalism in all wars; that he who is richest and mightiest profits the most, takes the greatest share of the spoils while he who is weakest is exploited, martyred, oppressed and outraged to the utmost. in the number of its colonial possessions, english imperialism has always been more powerful than any of the other countries. england has lost not a span of its "acquired" land. on the other hand it has acquired control of all german colonies in africa, has occupied mesopotamia and palestine. german imperialism was stronger because of the wonderful organization and ruthless discipline of "its" armies, but as far as colonies are concerned, is much weaker than its opponent. it has now lost all of its colonies, but has robbed half of europe and throttled most of the small countries and weaker peoples. what a high conception of "liberation" on either side! how well they have defended their fatherlands, these "gentlemen" of both groups, the anglo-french and the german capitalists together with their lackeys, the social-patriots. american plutocrats are wealthier than those of any other country partly because they are geographically more favorably situated. they have made the greatest profits. they have made all, even the weakest countries, their debtors. they have amassed gigantic fortunes during the war. and every dollar is stained with the blood that was shed by millions of murdered and crippled men, shed in the high, honorable and holy war of freedom. had the anglo-french and american bourgeoisie accepted the soviet invitation to participate in peace negotiations at brest-litovsk, instead of leaving russia to the mercy of brutal germany a just peace without annexations and indemnities, a peace based upon complete equality could have been forced upon germany, and millions of lives might have been saved. because they hoped to reestablish the eastern front by once more drawing us into the whirlpool of warfare, they refused to attend peace negotiations and gave germany a free hand to cram its shameful terms down the throat of the russian people. it lay in the power of the allied countries to make the brest-litovsk negotiations the forerunner of a general peace. it ill becomes them to throw the blame for the russo-german peace upon our shoulders! the workers of the whole world, in whatever country they may live, rejoice with us and sympathize with us, applaud us for having burst the iron ring of imperialistic agreements and treaties, for having dreaded no sacrifice, however great, to free ourselves, for having established ourselves as a socialist republic, even so rent asunder and plundered by german imperialists, for having raised the banner of peace, the banner of socialism over the world. what wonder that we are hated by the capitalist class the world over. but this hatred of imperialism and the sympathy of the class-conscious workers of all countries give us assurance of the righteousness of our cause. he is no socialist who cannot understand that one cannot and must not hesitate to bring even that greatest of sacrifice, the sacrifice of territory, that one must be ready to accept even military defeat at the hands of imperialism in the interests of victory over the bourgeoisie, in the interests of a transfer of power to the working-class. for the sake of "their" cause, that is for the conquest of world-power, the imperialists of england and germany have not hesitated to ruin a whole of row of nations, from belgium and servia to palestine and mesopotamia. shall we then hesitate to act in the name of the liberation of the workers of the world from the yoke of capitalism, in the name of a general honorable peace; shall we wait until we can find a way that entails no sacrifice; shall we be afraid to begin the fight until an easy victory is assured; shall we place the integrity and safety of this "fatherland" created by the bourgeoisie over the interests of the international socialist revolution? we have been attacked for coming to terms with german militarism. is there no difference between a pact entered upon by socialists and a bourgeoisie (native or foreign) against the working-class, against labor, and an agreement that is made between a working-class that has overthrown its own bourgeoisie and a bourgeoisie of one side against a bourgeoisie of another nationality for the protection of the proletariat? shall we not exploit the antagonism that exists between the various groups of the bourgeoisie. in reality every european understands this difference, and the american people, as i will presently show, have had a very similar experience in its own history. there are agreements and agreements, fagots et fagots, as the frenchman says. when the robber-barons of german imperialism threw their armies into defenseless, demobilized russia in february when russia had staked its hopes upon the international solidarity of the proletariat before the international revolution had completely ripened, i did not hesitate for a moment to come to certain agreements with french monarchists. the french captain sadoul, who sympathized in words with the bolsheviki while in deeds he was the faithful servant of french imperialism, brought the french officer de lubersac to me. "i am a monarchist. my only purpose is the overthrow of germany," de lubersac declared to me. "that is self understood (cela va sans dire)," i replied. but this by no means prevented me from coming to an understanding with de lubersac concerning certain services that french experts in explosives were ready to render in order to hold up the german advance by the destruction of railroad lines. this is an example of the kind of agreement that every class-conscious worker must be ready to adopt, an agreement in the interest of socialism. we shook hands with the french monarchists although we knew that each one of us would rather have seen the other hang. but temporarily our interests were identical. to throw back the rapacious advancing german army we made use of the equally greedy interests of their opponents, thereby serving the interests of the russian and the international socialist revolution. in this way we furthered the cause of the working-class of russia and of other countries; in this way we strengthened the proletariat and weakened the bourgeoisie of the world by making use of the usual and absolutely legal practice of manoevering, shifting and waiting for the moment the rapidly growing proletarian revolution in the more highly developed nations had ripened. long ago the american people used these tactics to the advantage of its revolution. when america waged its great war of liberation against the english oppressors, it likewise entered into negotiations with other oppressors, with the french and the spaniards who at that time owned a considerable portion of what is now the united states. in its desperate struggle for freedom the american people made "agreements" with one group of oppressors against the other for the purpose of weakening all oppressors and strengthening those who were struggling against tyranny. the american people utilized the antagonism that existed between the english and the french, at times even fighting side by side with the armies of one group of oppressors, the french and the spanish against the others, the english. thus it vanquished first the english and then freed itself (partly by purchase) from the dangerous proximity of the french and spanish possessions. the great russian revolutionist tchernychewski once said: political activity is not as smooth as the pavement of the nevski prospect. he is no revolutionist who would have the revolution of the proletariat only under the "condition" that it proceed smoothly and in an orderly manner, that guarantees against defeat be given beforehand, that the revolution go forward along the broad, free, straight path to victory, that there shall not be here and there the heaviest sacrifices, that we shall not have to lie in wait in besieged fortresses, shall not have to climb up along the narrowest path, the most impassible, winding, dangerous mountain roads. he is no revolutionist, he has not yet freed himself from the pedantry of bourgeois intellectualism, he will fall back, again and again, into the camp of the counter-revolutionary bourgeoisie. they are little more than imitators of the bourgeoisie, these gentlemen who delight in holding up to us the "chaos" of revolution, the "destruction" of industry, the unemployment, the lack of food. can there be anything more hypocritical than such accusations from people who greeted and supported the imperialistic war and made common cause with kerensky when he continued the war? is not this imperialistic war the cause of all our misfortune? the revolution that was born by the war must necessarily go on through the terrible difficulties and sufferings that war created, through this heritage of destruction and reactionary mass murder. to accuse us of "destruction" of industries and "terror" is hypocrisy or clumsy pedantry, shows an incapability of understanding the most elemental fundamentals of the raging, climatic force of the class struggle, called revolution. in words our accusers "recognize" this kind of class struggle, in deeds they revert again and again to the middle class utopia of "class-harmony" and the mutual "interdependence" of classes upon one another. in reality the class struggle in revolutionary times has always inevitably taken on the form of civil war, and civil war is unthinkable without the worst kind of destruction, without terror and limitations of form of democracy in the interests of the war. one must be a sickly sentimentalist not to be able to see, to understand and appreciate this necessity. only the tchechov type of the lifeless "man in the box" can denounce the revolution for this reason instead of throwing himself into the fight with the whole vehemence and decision of his soul at a moment when history demands that the highest problems of humanity be solved by struggle and war. the best representatives of the american proletariat--those representatives who have repeatedly given expression to their full solidarity with us, the bolsheviki, are the expression of this revolutionary tradition in the life of the american people. this tradition originated in the war of liberation against the english in the th and the civil war in the th century. industry and commerce in were in a much worse position than in . but where can you find an american so pedantic, so absolutely idiotic who would deny the revolutionary and progressive significance of the american civil war of - ? the representatives of the bourgeoisie understand very well that the overthrow of slavery was well worth the three years of civil war, the depth of destruction, devastation and terror that were its accompaniment. but these same gentlemen and the reform socialists who have allowed themselves to be cowed by the bourgeoisie and tremble at the thought of a revolution, cannot, nay will not, see the necessity and righteousness of a civil war in russia, though it is facing a far greater task, the work of abolishing capitalist wage slavery and overthrowing the rule of the bourgeoisie. the american working class will not follow the lead of its bourgeoisie. it will go with us against the bourgeoisie. the whole history of the american people gives me this confidence, this conviction. i recall with pride the words of one of the best loved leaders of the american proletariat, eugene v. debs, who said in the "appeal to reason" at the end of , when it was still a socialist paper, in an article entitled "why should i fight?" that he would rather be shot than vote for war credits to support the present criminal and reactionary war, that he knows only one war that is sanctified and justified from the standpoint of the proletariat: the war against the capitalist class, the war for the liberation of mankind from wage slavery. i am not surprised that this fearless man was thrown into prison by the american bourgeoisie. let them brutalize true internationalists, the real representatives of the revolutionary proletariat. the greater the bitterness and brutality they sow, the nearer is the day of the victorious proletarian revolution. we are accused of having brought devastation upon russia. who is it that makes these accusations? the train-bearers of the bourgeoisie, of that same bourgeoisie that almost completely destroyed the culture of europe, that has dragged the whole continent back to barbarism, that has brought hunger and destruction to the world. this bourgeoisie now demands that we find a different basis for our revolution than that of destruction, that we shall not build it up upon the ruins of war, with human beings degraded and brutalized by years of warfare. o, how human, how just is this bourgeoisie! its servants charge us with the use of terroristic methods.--have the english forgotten their , the french their ? terror was just and justified when it was employed by the bourgeoisie for its own purposes against feudal domination. but terror becomes criminal when workingmen and poverty stricken peasants dare to use it against the bourgeoisie. terror was just and justified when it was used to put one exploiting minority in the place of another. but terror becomes horrible and criminal when it is used to abolish all exploiting minorities, when it is employed in the cause of the actual majority, in the cause of the proletariat and the semi-proletariat, of the working-class and the poor peasantry. the bourgeoisie of international imperialism has succeeded in slaughtering millions, in crippling millions in its war. should our war, the war of the oppressed and the exploited, against oppressors and exploiters cost a half or a whole million victims in all countries, the bourgeoisie would still maintain that the victims of the world war died a righteous death, that those of the civil war were sacrificed for a criminal cause. but the proletariat, even now, in the midst of the horrors of war, is learning the great truth that all revolutions teach, the truth that has been handed down to us by our best teachers, the founders of modern socialism. from them we have learned that a successful revolution is inconceivable unless it breaks the resistance of the exploiting class. when the workers and the laboring peasants took hold of the powers of state, it became our duty to quell the resistance of the exploiting class. we are proud that we have done it, that we are doing it. we only regret that we did not do it, at the beginning, with sufficient firmness and decision. we realize that the mad resistance of the bourgeoisie against the socialist revolution in all countries is unavoidable. we know too, that with the development of this revolution, this resistance will grow. but the proletariat will break down this resistance and in the course of its struggle against the bourgeoisie the proletariat will finally become ripe for victory and power. let the corrupt bourgeois press trumpet every mistake that is made by our revolution out into the world. we are not afraid of our mistakes. the beginning of the revolution has not sanctified humanity. it is not to be expected that the working classes who have been exploited and forcibly held down by the clutches of want, of ignorance and degradation for centuries should conduct its revolution without mistakes. the dead body of bourgeois society cannot simply be put into a coffin and buried. it rots in our midst, poisons the air we breathe, pollutes our lives, clings to the new, the fresh, the living with a thousand threads and tendrils of old customs, of death and decay. but for every hundred of our mistakes that are heralded into the world by the bourgeoisie and its sycophants, there are ten thousand great deeds of heroism, greater and more heroic because they seem so simple and unpretentious, because they take place in the everyday life of the factory districts or in secluded villages, because they are the deeds of people who are not in the habit of proclaiming their every success to the world, who have no opportunity to do so. but even if the contrary were true,--i know, of course, that this is not so--but even if we had committed , mistakes to every wise and righteous deeds, yes, even then our revolution would be great and invincible. and it will go down in the history of the world as unconquerable. for the first time in the history of the world not the minority, not alone the rich and the educated, but the real masses, the huge majority of the working-class itself, are building up a new world, are deciding the most difficult questions of social organization from out of their own experience. every mistake that is made in this work, in this honestly conscientious cooperation of ten million plain workingmen and peasants in the re-creation of their entire lives--every such mistake is worth thousands and millions of "faultless" successes of the exploiting minority, in outwitting and taking advantage of the laboring masses. for only through these mistakes can the workers and peasants learn to organize their new existence, to get along without the capitalist class. only thus will they be able to blaze their way, through thousands of hindrances to victorious socialism. mistakes are being made by our peasants who, at one stroke in the night from october to october , (russian calendar) , did away with all private ownership of land, and are now struggling, from month to month, under the greatest difficulties, to correct their own mistakes, trying to solve in practice the most difficult problems of organizing a new social state, fighting against profiteers to secure the possession of the land for the worker instead of for the speculator, to carry on agricultural production under a system of communist farming on a large scale. mistakes are being made by our workmen in their revolutionary activity, who, in a few short months, have placed practically all of the larger factories and workers under state ownership, and are now learning, from day to day, under the greatest difficulties, to conduct the management of entire industries, to reorganize industries already organized, to overcome the deadly resistance of laziness and middle-class reaction and egotism. stone upon stone they are building the foundation for a new social community, the self-discipline of labor, the new rule of the labor organizations of the working-class over their members. mistakes are being made in their revolutionary activity by the soviets which were first created in by the gigantic upheaval of the masses. the workmen's and peasant's soviets are a new type of state, a new highest form of democracy, a particular form of the dictatorship of the proletariat, a mode of conducting the business of the state without the bourgeoisie and against the bourgeoisie. for the first time democracy is placed at the service of the masses, of the workers, and ceases to be a democracy for the rich, as it is, in the last analysis, in all capitalist, yes, in all democratic republics. for the first time the masses of the people, in a nation of hundreds of millions, are fulfilling the task of realizing the dictatorship of the proletariat and the semi-proletariat, without which socialism is not to be thought of. let incurable pedants, crammed full of bourgeois democratic and parliamentary prejudices, shake their heads gravely over our soviets, let them deplore the fact that we have no direct elections. these people have forgotten nothing, have learned nothing in the great upheaval of - . the combination of the dictatorship of the proletariat with the new democracy of the proletariat, of civil war with the widest application of the masses to political problems, such a combination cannot be achieved in a day, cannot be forced into the battered forms of formal parliamentary democratism. in the soviet republic there arises before us a new world, the world of socialism. such a world cannot be materialized as if by magic, complete in every detail, as minerva sprang from jupiter's head. while the old bourgeoisie democratic constitutions, for instance, proclaimed formal equality and the right of free assemblage, the constitution of the soviet republic repudiates the hypocrisy of a formal equality of all human beings. when the bourgeoisie republicans overturned feudal thrones, they did not recognize the rules of formal equality of monarchists. since we here are concerned with the task of overthrowing the bourgeoisie, only fools or traitors will insist on the formal equality of the bourgeoisie. the right of free assemblage is not worth an iota to the workman and to the peasant when all better meeting places are in the hands of the bourgeoisie. our soviets have taken over all usable buildings in the cities and towns out of the hands of the rich and have placed them at the disposal of the workmen and peasants for meeting and organization purposes. that is how our right of assemblage looks--for the workers. that is the meaning and content of our soviet, of our socialist constitution. and for this reason we are all firmly convinced that the soviet republic, whatever misfortune may still lie in store for it, is unconquerable. it is unconquerable because every blow that comes from the powers of madly raging imperialism, every new attack by the international bourgeoisie will bring new, and hitherto unaffected strata of workingmen and peasants into the fight, will educate them at the cost of the greatest sacrifice, making them hard as steel, awakening a new heroism in the masses. we know that it may take a long time before help can come from you, comrades, american workingmen, for the development of the revolution in the different countries proceeds along various paths, with varying rapidity (how could it be otherwise!) we know full well that the outbreak of the european proletarian revolution may take many weeks to come, quickly as it is ripening in these days. we are counting on the inevitability of the international revolution. but that does not mean that we count upon its coming at some definite, nearby date. we have experienced two great revolutions in our own country, that of and that of , and we know that revolutions cannot come neither at a word of command nor according to prearranged plans. we know that circumstances alone have pushed us, the proletariat of russia, forward, that we have reached this new stage in the social life of the world not because of our superiority but because of the peculiarly reactionary character of russia. but until the outbreak of the international revolution, revolutions in individual countries may still meet with a number of serious setbacks and overthrows. and yet we are certain that we are invincible, for if humanity will not emerge from this imperialistic massacre broken in spirit, it will triumph. ours was the first country to break the chains of imperialistic warfare. we broke them with the greatest sacrifice, but they are broken. we stand outside of imperialistic duties and considerations, we have raised the banner of the fight for the complete overthrow of imperialism for the world. we are in a beleaguered fortress, so long as no other international socialist revolution comes to our assistance with its armies. but these armies exist, they are stronger than ours, they grow, they strive, they become more invincible the longer imperialism with its brutalities continues. workingmen the world over are breaking with their betrayers, with their gompers and their scheidemanns. inevitably labor is approaching communistic bolshevistic tactics, is preparing for the proletarian revolution that alone is capable of preserving culture and humanity from destruction. we are invincible, for invincible is the proletarian revolution. the class struggle devoted to international socialism edited by louis c. fraina and ludwig lore articles have been contributed by lenin, trotzky, litvinoff, katayama, franz mehring, friedrich adler, karl liebknecht, rosa luxemburg, santeri nuorteva, and others. $ . per year; cents a copy. we have also on hand the following pamphlets, some of which are reprints from the class struggle: an open letter to american liberals, by s. nuorteva cents the crisis in the german social-democracy, by k. liebknecht, f. mehring, and r. luxemburg " j'accuse, by friedrich adler " revolutionary socialism, by louis c. fraina " special rates to agents and socialist locals the socialist publication society pulaski st., brooklyn, n. y. [illustration] the co operative press, spruce st., new york transcriber's note: text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_). the russian turmoil [illustration: the stavka quartermaster-general's branch. standing on the pathway, from left to right (centre): generals denikin (chief of staff), alexeiev (supreme c.-in-c.), josephovitch and markov (first and second quartermasters-general).] the russian turmoil memoirs: military, social, and political by general a. i. denikin with illustrations, diagrams and maps london: hutchinson & co. paternoster row contents page foreword chapter i. the foundations of the old power: faith, the czar, and the mother country chapter ii. the army chapter iii. the old army and the emperor chapter iv. the revolution in petrograd chapter v. the revolution and the imperial family chapter vi. the revolution and the army chapter vii. impressions of petrograd at the end of march, chapter viii. the stavka: its rÔle and position chapter ix. general markov chapter x. the power--the duma--the provisional government--the high command--the soviet of workmen's and soldiers' delegates chapter xi. the bolshevik struggle for power--the power of the army and the idea of a dictatorship chapter xii. the activities of the provisional government--internal politics, civil administration--the town, the village, and the agrarian problem chapter xiii. the activities of the provisional government: food supplies, industry, transport, and finance chapter xiv. the strategical position of the russian front chapter xv. the question of the advance of the russian army chapter xvi. military reforms--the generals--the dismissal from the high command chapter xvii. "democratisation of the army"--administration, service and routine chapter xviii. the declaration of the rights of the soldier and committees chapter xix. the democratisation of the army: the commissars chapter xx. the democratisation of the army--the story of "the declaration of the rights of the soldier" chapter xxi. the press and propaganda chapter xxii. the condition of the army at the july advance chapter xxiii. officers' organisations chapter xxiv. the revolution and the cossacks chapter xxv. national units chapter xxvi. may and the beginning of june in the sphere of military administration--the resignation of gutchkov and general alexeiev--my departure from the stavka--the administration of kerensky and general brussilov chapter xxvii. my term as commander-in-chief on the western russian front chapter xxviii. the russian advance in the summer of --the dÉbÂcle chapter xxix. the conference at the stavka of ministers and commanders-in-chief on july th chapter xxx. general kornilov chapter xxxi. my service as commander-in-chief of the south-western front--the moscow conference--the fall of riga chapter xxxii. general kornilov's movement and its repercussion on the south-west front chapter xxxiii. in berdichev gaol--the transfer of the "berdichev group" of prisoners to bykhov chapter xxxiv. some conclusions as to the first period of the revolution [illustration: the old banner] [illustration: and the new.] list of illustrations the stavka quartermaster-general's branch _frontispiece_ the old banner and the new facing page the grand duke nicholas distributes crosses of st. george " " funeral of the first victims of the march revolution in petrograd " " general alexeiev " " general kornilov " " general markov " " foreign military representatives at the stavka " " the conference of commanders-in-chief " " a group of "prisoners" at berdichev " " the old army: a review. general ivanov " " the revolutionary army: a review. kerensky " " before the battle in the revolutionary army: a meeting " " types of men in the revolutionary army " " before the battle in the old army: prayers " " types of soldiers of the old army " " general alexeiev's farewell " " kerensky addressing soldiers' meeting " " general kornilov's arrival at petrograd " " general kornilov in the trenches " " general kornilov's welcome in moscow " " list of diagrams and maps page . diagram of the comparative forces of the germans in different theatres of war . diagram indicating the political party divisions in russia after the revolution . map of the russian european front in . map of the russian caucasian front in . map of the russian front in june and july, . map of the russian front till august th and after foreword in the midst of the turmoil and bloodshed in russia people perish and the real outlines of historical events are obliterated. it is for this reason that i have decided to publish these memoirs, in spite of the difficulties of work in my present condition of a refugee, unable to refer to any archives or documents and deprived of the possibility of discussing events with those who have taken part in them. the first part of my book deals chiefly with the russian army, with which my life has been closely linked up. political, social and economic questions are discussed only in so far as i have found it necessary to describe their influence upon the course of events. in the army played a decisive part in the fate of russia. its participation in the progress of the revolution, its life, degradation and collapse should serve as a great warning and a lesson to the new builders of russian life. this applies not only to the struggle against the present tyrants. when bolshevism is defeated, the russian people will have to undertake the tremendous task of reviving its moral and material forces, as well as that of preserving its sovereign existence. never in history has this task been as arduous as it is now, because there are many outside russia's borders waiting eagerly for her end. they are waiting in vain. the russian people will rise in strength and wisdom from the deathbed of blood, horror and poverty, moral and physical. the russian turmoil chapter i. the foundations of the old power: faith, the czar and the mother country. the inevitable historical process which culminated in the revolution of march, , has resulted in the collapse of the russian state. philosophers, historians and sociologists, in studying the course of russian life, may have foreseen the impending catastrophe. but nobody could foresee that the people, rising like a tidal wave, would so rapidly and so easily sweep away all the foundations of their existence: the supreme power and the governing classes which disappeared without a struggle; the intelligencia, gifted but weak, isolated and lacking will-power, which at first, in the midst of a deadly struggle, had only words as a weapon, later submissively bent their necks under the knife of the victors; and last, but not least, an army of ten million, powerful and imbued with historic traditions. that army was destroyed in three or four months. this last event--the collapse of the army--was not, however, quite unexpected, as the epilogue of the manchurian war and the subsequent events in moscow, kronstadt and sevastopol were a terrible warning. at the end of november, , i lived for a fortnight in harbin, and travelled on the siberian railway for thirty-one days in december, , through a series of "republics" from harbin to petrograd. i thus gained a clear indication of what might be expected from a licentious mob of soldiers utterly devoid of restraining principles. all the meetings, resolutions, soviets--in a word, all the manifestations of a mutiny of the military--were repeated in with photographic accuracy, but with greater impetus and on a much larger scale. it should be noted that the possibility of such a rapid psychological transformation was not characteristic of the russian army alone. there can be no doubt that war-weariness after three years of bloodshed played an important part in these events, as the armies of the whole world were affected by it and were rendered more accessible to the disintegrating influences of extreme socialist doctrines. in the autumn of the german army corps that occupied the region of the don and little russia were demoralised in one week, and they repeated to a certain extent the process which we had already lived through of meetings, soviets, committees, of doing away with commanding officers, and in some units of the sale of military stores, horses and arms. it was not till then that the germans understood the tragedy of the russian officers. more than once our volunteers saw the german officers, formerly so haughty and so frigid, weeping bitterly over their degradation. "you have done the same to us; you have done it with your own hands," we said. "not we; it was our government," was their reply. in the winter of , as commander-in-chief of the volunteer army, i received an offer from a group of german officers to join our army as volunteers in the ranks. the collapse of the army cannot be explained away as the psychological result of defeats and disasters. even the victors experienced disturbances in the army. there was a certain amount of disaffection among the french troops occupying, in the beginning of , the region of odessa and roumania, in the french fleet cruising in the black sea, among the british troops in the region of constantinople and transcaucasia. the troops did not always obey the orders of their commanding officers. rapid demobilisation and the arrival of fresh, partly volunteer elements, altered the situation. [illustration: the grand duke nicholas distributes crosses of st. george.] what was the condition of the russian army at the outbreak of the revolution? from time immemorial the entire ideology of our soldiers was contained in the well-known formula: "for god, for the czar and for the mother country." generation after generation was born and bred on that formula. these ideas, however, did not penetrate deeply enough into the masses of the people and of the army. for many centuries the russian people had been deeply religious, but their faith was somewhat shaken in the beginning of the twentieth century. the russian people, as the russian saying goes, was "the bearer of christ"--a people inwardly disposed towards universal brotherhood, great in its simplicity, truthfulness, humility and forgiveness. that people, christian in the fullest sense of the word, was gradually changing as it came under the influence of material interests, and learnt or was taught to see in the gratifying of those interests the sole purpose of life. the link between the people and its spiritual leaders was gradually weakening as these leaders were detached from the people, entered into the service of the governing powers, and shared the latter's deficiencies. the development of this moral transformation of the russian people is too deep and too complex to fall within the scope of these memoirs. it is undeniable that the youngsters who joined the ranks treated questions of the faith and of the church with indifference. in barracks they lost the habits of their homes, and were forcibly removed from a more wholesome and settled atmosphere, with all its creeds and superstitions. they received no spiritual or moral education, which in barracks was considered a matter of minor importance, completely overshadowed by practical and material cares and requirements. a proper spirit could not be created in barracks, where christian morals, religious discourses, and even the rites of the church bore an official and sometimes even compulsory character. commanding officers know how difficult it was to find a solution of the vexed question of attendance at church services. war introduced two new elements into the spiritual life of the army. on the one hand, there was a certain moral coarseness and cruelty; on the other, it seemed as if faith had been deepened by constant danger. i do not wish to accuse the orthodox military clergy as a body. many of its representatives proved their high valour, courage and self-sacrifice. it must, however, be admitted that the clergy failed to produce a religious revival among the troops. it is not their fault, because the world-war into which russia was drawn was due to intricate political and economic causes, and there was no room for religious fervour. the clergy, however, likewise failed to establish closer connection with the troops. after the outbreak of the revolution the officers continued for a long time to struggle to keep their waning power and authority, but the voice of the priests was silenced almost at once, and they ceased to play any part whatsoever in the life of the troops. i recall an episode typical of the mental attitude of military circles in those days. one of the regiments of the fourth rifle division had built a camp church quite close to its lines, and had built it with great care and very artistically. the revolution came. a demagogue captain decided that his company had inadequate quarters and that a church was a superstition. on his own authority he converted the church into quarters for his company, and dug a hole where the altar stood for purposes which it is better not to mention. i am not surprised that such a scoundrel was found in the regiment or that the higher command was terrorised and silent. but why did two or three thousand orthodox russians, bred in the mystic rites of their faith, remain indifferent to such a sacrilege? be that as it may, there can hardly be any doubt that religion ceased to be one of the moral impulses which upheld the spirit of the russian army and prompted it to deeds of valour or protected it later from the development of bestial instincts. the orthodox clergy, generally speaking, was thrown overboard during the storm. some of the high dignitaries of the church--the metropolitans--pitirim and makarius--the archbishop varnava and others, unfortunately were closely connected with the governing bureaucracy of the rasputin period of petrograd history. the lower grades of the clergy, on the other hand, were in close touch with the russian intellectuals. i cannot take it upon myself to judge of the extent to which the russian church remained an active force after it came under the yoke of the bolsheviks. an impenetrable veil hangs over the life of the russian church in soviet russia, but there can be no doubt that spiritual renaissance is progressing and spreading, that the martyrdom of hundreds, nay, thousands, of priests is waking the dormant conscience of the people and is becoming a legend in their minds. the czar. it is hardly necessary to prove that the enormous majority of the commanding officers were thoroughly loyal to the monarchist idea and to the czar himself. the subsequent behaviour of the higher commanding officers who had been monarchists was due partly to motives of self-seeking, partly to pusillanimity and to the desire to conceal their real feelings in order to remain in power and to carry out their own plans. cases in which a change of front was the result of the collapse of ideals, of a new outlook, or was prompted by motives of practical statesmanship, were rare. for example, it would have been childish to have believed general brussilov when he asserted that from the days of his youth he had been "a socialist and a republican." he was bred in the traditions of the old guards, was closely connected with circles of the court, and permeated with their outlook. his habits, tastes, sympathies and surroundings were those of a _barin_.[ ] no man can be a lifelong liar to himself and to others. the majority of the officers of the regular russian army had monarchist principles and were undoubtedly loyal. after the japanese war, as a result of the first revolution, the officers' corps was, nevertheless, placed, for reasons which are not sufficiently clear, under the special supervision of the police department, and regimental commanding officers received from time to time "black lists." the tragedy of it was that it was almost useless to argue against the verdict of "unreliability," while, at the same time, it was forbidden to conduct one's own investigation, even in secret. this system of spying introduced an unwholesome spirit into the army. not content with this system, the war minister, general sukhomlinov, introduced his own branch of counter-spies, which was headed unofficially by colonel miassoyedov, who was afterwards shot as a german spy. at every military district headquarters an organ was instituted, headed by an officer of the gendarmerie dressed up in g.h.q. uniform. officially, he was supposed to deal with foreign espionage, but general dukhonin (who was killed by the bolsheviks), when chief of the intelligence bureau of the kiev g.h.q. before the war, bitterly complained to me of the painful atmosphere created by this new organ, which was officially subordinate to the quartermaster-general, but in reality looked on him with suspicion, and was spying not only upon the staff, but upon its own chiefs. life itself seemed to induce the officers to utter some kind of protest against the existing order. of all the classes that served the state, there had been for a long time no element so downtrodden and forlorn or so ill-provided for as the officers of the regular russian army. they lived in abject poverty. their rights and their self-esteem were constantly ignored by the senior officers. the utmost the rank and file could hope for as the crowning of their career was the rank of colonel and an old age spent in sickness and semi-starvation. from the middle of the nineteenth century the officers' corps had completely lost its character as a class and a caste. since universal compulsory service was introduced and the nobility ceased to be prosperous the gates of military schools were opened wide to people of low extraction and to young men belonging to the lower strata of the people, but with a diploma from the civil schools. they formed a majority in the army. mobilisations, on the other hand, reinforced the officers' corps by the infusion of a great many men of the liberal professions, who introduced new ideas and a new outlook. finally, the tremendous losses suffered by the regular officers' corps compelled the high command to relax to a certain extent the regulations concerning military training and education, and to introduce on a broad scale promotions from the ranks for deeds of valour, and to give rankers a short training in elementary schools to fit them to be temporary officers. these circumstances, characteristic of all armies formed from the masses, undoubtedly reduced the fighting capacity of the officers' corps, and brought about a certain change in its political outlook, bringing it nearer to that of the average russian intellectual and to democracy. this the leaders of the revolutionary democracy did not, or, to be more accurate, would not, understand in the first days of the revolution. in the course of my narrative i will differentiate between the "revolutionary democracy"--an agglomeration of socialist parties--and the true russian democracy, to which the middle-class intelligencia and the civil service elements undoubtedly belong. the spirit of the regular officers was, however, gradually changing. the japanese war, which disclosed the grave shortcomings of the country and of the army, the duma and the press, which had gained a certain liberty after , played an important part in the political education of the officers. the mystic adoration of the monarch began gradually to vanish. among the junior generals and other officers there appeared men in increasing numbers capable of differentiating between the idea of the monarchy and personalities, between the welfare of the country and the form of government. in officer circles opportunities occurred for criticism, analysis, and sometimes for severe condemnation. it is to be wondered that in these circumstances our officers remained steadfast and stoutly resisted the extremist, destructive currents of political thought. the percentage of men who reached the depths and were unmasked by the authorities was insignificant. with regard to the throne, generally speaking, there was a tendency among the officers to separate the person of the emperor from the miasma with which he was surrounded, from the political errors and misdeeds of the government, which was leading the country steadily to ruin and the army to defeat. they wanted to forgive the emperor, and tried to make excuses for him. in spite of the accepted view, the monarchical idea had no deep, mystic roots among the rank and file, and, of course, the semi-cultured masses entirely failed to realise the meaning of other forms of government preached by socialists of all shades of opinion. owing to a certain innate conservatism, to habits dating from time immemorial, and to the teaching of the church, the existing régime was considered as something quite natural and inevitable. in the mind and in the heart of the soldier the idea of a monarch was, if i may so express it, "in a potential state," rising sometimes to a point of high exaltation when the monarch was personally approached (at reviews, parades and casual meetings), and sometimes falling to indifference. at any rate, the army was in a disposition sufficiently favourable to the idea of a monarchy and to the dynasty, and that disposition could have easily been maintained. but a sticky cobweb of licentiousness and crime was being woven at petrograd and czarskoe selo. the truth, intermingled with falsehood, penetrated into the remotest corners of the country and into the army, and evoked painful regrets and sometimes malicious rejoicings. the members of the house of romanov did not preserve the "idea" which the orthodox monarchists wished to surround with a halo of greatness, nobility and reverence. i recall the impression of a sitting of the duma which i happened to attend. for the first time, gutchkov uttered a word of warning from the tribune of the duma about rasputin. "all is not well with our land." the house, which had been rather noisy, was silent, and every word, spoken in a low voice, was distinctly audible in remote corners. a mysterious cloud, pregnant with catastrophe, seemed to hang over the normal course of russian history. i will not dwell on the corrupt influences prevailing in ministerial dwellings and imperial palaces to which the filthy and cynical impostor found access, who swayed ministers and rulers. the grand duke nicholas is supposed to have threatened to hang rasputin should he venture to appear at g.h.q. general alexeiev also disapproved strongly of the man. that the influence of rasputin did not spread to the old army is due entirely to the attitude of the above-named generals. all sorts of stories about rasputin's influence was circulated at the front, and the censor collected an enormous amount of material on the subject, even from soldiers' letters from the front; but the gravest impression was produced by the word "treason" with reference to the empress. in the army, openly and everywhere, conversations were heard about the empress' persistent demands for a separate peace and of her treachery towards lord kitchener, of whose journey she was supposed to have informed the germans. as i recall the past, and the impression produced in the army by the _rumour_ of the empress' treason, i consider that this circumstance had a very great influence upon the attitude of the army towards the dynasty and the revolution. in the spring of i questioned general alexeiev on this painful subject. his answer, reluctantly given, was vague. he said: "when the empress' papers were examined she was found to be in possession of a map indicating in detail the disposition of the troops along the entire front. only two copies were prepared of this map, one for the emperor and one for myself. i was very painfully impressed. god knows who may have made use of this map." history will undoubtedly throw light on the fateful influence exercised by the empress alexandra upon the russian government in the period preceding the revolution. as regards the question of treason, this disastrous rumour has not been confirmed by a single fact, and was afterwards contradicted by the investigations of a commission specially appointed by the provisional government, on which representatives of the soviet of workmen and soldiers served. we now come to the third foundation--the _mother country_. deafened as we were, alas! by the thunder and rattle of conventional patriotic phrases, endlessly repeated along the whole length and breadth of russia, we failed to detect the fundamental, innate defect of the russian people--its lack of patriotism. it is no longer necessary to force an open door by proving this statement. the brest-litovsk treaty provoked no outburst of popular wrath. russian society was indifferent to the separation of the border states, even those that were russian in spirit and in blood. what is more, russian society approved of this dismemberment. we know of the agreement between poland and petlura, between poland and the soviet. we know that russian territorial and material riches were sold for a song to international, political usurers. need we adduce further proofs? there can be no doubt that the collapse of russian statehood as manifested in "self-determination" was in several instances caused by the desire to find a temporary safeguard against the bedlam of the soviet republic. life, however, unfortunately does not stop at the practical application of this peculiar "sanitary cordon," but strikes at the very idea of statehood. this occurred even in such stable districts as the cossack provinces, not, however, among the masses, but among the leaders themselves. thus at ekaterinodar in , at the "high krug" (assembly) of the three cossack armies, the mention of russia was omitted after a heated discussion from the proposed formula of the oath.... is crucified russia unworthy of our love? what, then, was the effect of the mother country idea upon the conscience of the old army? the upper strata of the russian intellectuals were well aware of the reasons for the world conflagration, of the conflict of the powers for political and economic supremacy, for free routes, for markets and colonies--a conflict in which russia's part was merely one of self-defence. on the other hand, the average number of the russian _intelligencia_, as well as officers, were often satisfied merely with the immediate and more obvious and easily comprehensible causes. nobody wanted the war, except, perhaps, the impressionable young officers yearning for exploits. it was believed that the powers-that-be would take every precaution in order to avoid a rupture. gradually, however, the fatal inevitability of war was understood. there was no question on our part of aggressiveness or self-interest. to sympathise sincerely with the weak and the oppressed was in keeping with the traditional attitude of russia. also, we did not draw the sword--the sword was drawn against us. that is why, when the war began, the voices were silenced of those who feared that, owing to the low level of her culture and economic development, russia would be unable to win in the contest with a strong and cultured enemy. war was accepted in a patriotic spirit, which was at times akin to enthusiasm. like the majority of the intellectuals, the officers did not take much interest in the question of war aims. the war began; defeat would have led to immeasurable disaster to our country in every sphere of its life, to territorial losses, political decadence and economic slavery. victory was, therefore, a necessity. all other questions were relegated to the background. there was plenty of time for their discussion, for new decisions and for changes. this simplified attitude towards the war, coupled with a profound understanding and with a national self-consciousness, was not understood by the left wing of the russian politicians, who were driven to zimmerwald and kienthal. no wonder, therefore, that when the anonymous and the russian leaders of the revolutionary democracy were confronted in february, , before the army was deliberately destroyed, with the dilemma: "are we to save the country or the revolution?" they chose the latter. still less did the illiterate masses of the people understand the idea of national self-preservation. the people went to war submissively, but without enthusiasm and without any clear perception of the necessity for a great sacrifice. their psychology did not rise to the understanding of abstract national principles. "the people-in-arms," for that was what the army really was, were elated by victory and downhearted when defeated. they did not fully understand the necessity for crossing the carpathians, and had, perhaps, a clearer idea of the meaning of the struggle on the styr and the pripet. and yet it found solace in the thought: "we are from tambov; the germans will not reach us." it is necessary to repeat this stale saying, because it expresses the deep-rooted psychology of the average russian. as a result of this predominance of material interests in the outlook of "the people-in-arms," they grasped more easily the simple arguments based on realities in favour of a stubborn fight and of victory, as well as the impossibility of admitting defeat. these arguments were: a foreign german domination, the ruin of the country and of the home, the weight of the taxes which would inevitably be levied after defeat, the fall in the price of grain, which would have to go through foreign channels, etc. in addition, there was some feeling of confidence that the government was doing the right thing, the more so as the nearest representatives of that power, the officers, were going forward with the troops and were dying in the same spirit of readiness and submission as the men, either because they had been ordered to do so, or else because they thought it their duty. the rank and file, therefore, bravely faced death. afterwards when confidence was shaken, the masses of the army were completely perplexed. the formulas, "without annexations and indemnities," "the self-determination of peoples," etc., proved more abstract and less intelligible than the old repudiated and rusty idea of the mother country, which still persisted underneath them. in order to keep the men at the front, the well-known arguments of a materialistic nature, such as the threat of german domination, the ruin of the home, the weight of taxes, were expounded from platforms decorated with red flags. they were taught by socialists, who favoured a war of defence. thus the three principles which formed the foundations of the army were undermined. in describing the anomalies and spiritual shortcomings of the russian army, far be it from me to place it below the level of armies of other countries. these shortcomings are inherent in all armies formed from the masses, which are almost akin to a militia, but this did not prevent these armies or our own from gaining victories and continuing the war. it is necessary, however, to draw a complete picture of the spirit of the army in order to understand its subsequent destiny. chapter ii. the army. the russo-japanese war had a very great influence upon the development of the russian army. the bitterness of defeat and the clear consciousness that the policy governing military affairs was disastrously out of date gave a great impulse to the junior military elements and forced the slack and inert elements gradually to alter their ways or else to retire. in spite of the passive resistance of several men at the head of the war ministry and the general staff, who were either incompetent or else treated the interests of the army with levity and indifference, work was done at full speed. in ten years the russian army, without of course attaining the ideal, made tremendous progress. it may be confidently asserted that, had it not been for the hard lessons of the manchurian campaign, russia would have been crushed in the first months of the great war. yet the cleansing of the commanding personnel went too slowly. our softness ("poor devil! we must give him a job"), wire-pulling, intrigues, and too slavish an observance of the rules of seniority resulted in the ranks of senior commanding officers being crowded with worthless men. the high commission for granting testimonials, which sat twice a year in petrograd, hardly knew any of those to whom these testimonials were given. therein lies the reason for the mistakes made at the outbreak of war in many appointments to high commands. four commanders-in-chief (one of them suffered from mental paralysis--it is true that his appointment was only temporary), several army commanders, many army corps and divisional commanders had to be dismissed. in the very first days of the concentration of the eighth army, in july, , general brussilov dismissed three divisional and one army corps commanders. yet nonentities retained their commands, and they ruined the troops and the operations. under the same general brussilov, general d., relieved several times of his command, went from a cavalry division to three infantry divisions in turn, and found final repose in german captivity. most unfortunately, the whole army was aware of the incompetence of these commanding officers, and wondered at their appointments. owing to these deficiencies, the strategy of the entire campaign lacked inspiration and boldness. such, for example, were the operations of the north-western front in east prussia, prompted solely by the desire of g.h.q. to save the french army from a desperate position. such, in particular, was rennenkampf's shameful manoeuvre, as well as the stubborn forcing of the carpathians, which dismembered the troops of the south-western front in , and finally our advance in the spring of . the last episode was so typical of the methods of our high command and its consequences were so grave that it is worth our while to recall it. when the armies of the south-western front took the offensive in may, the attack was eminently successful and several austrian divisions were heavily defeated. when my division, after the capture of lutsk, was moving by forced marches to vladimir volynsk, i considered--and we all considered--that our manoeuvre represented the entire scheme of the advance, that our front was dealing the main blow. we learnt afterwards that the task of dealing the main blow had been entrusted to the western front, and that brussilov's armies were only making a demonstration. there, towards vilna, large forces had been gathered, equipped with artillery and technical means such as we had never had before. for several months the troops had been preparing _places d'armes_ for the advance. at last all was ready, and the success of the southern armies that diverted the enemy's attention and his reserves also promised success to the western front. almost on the eve of the contemplated offensive the historical conversation took place on the telephone between general evert, c.-in-c. of the western front, and general alexeiev, chief of staff of the supreme commander-in-chief. the gist of the conversation was the following: _a._ circumstances require an immediate decision. are you ready for the advance and are you certain to be successful? _e._ i have no certainty of success. the enemy's positions are very strong. our troops will have to attack the positions against which their previous attacks have failed. _a._ if that is the case, you must give immediate orders for the transfer of troops to the south-western front. i will report to the emperor. so the operation, so long awaited and so methodically prepared, collapsed. the western army corps, sent to reinforce us, came too late. our advance was checked. the senseless slaughter on the swampy banks of the stokhod then began. incidentally, the guards lost the flower of their men in those battles. meanwhile, the german eastern front was going through a period of intense anxiety. "it was a critical time," says ludendorff in his _mes souvenirs de guerre_. "we had spent ourselves, and we knew full well that no one would come to our assistance if the russians chose to attack us." an episode may be mentioned in this connection, which occurred to general brussilov. the story is not widely known, and may serve as an interesting sidelight on the character of the general--one of the leaders of the campaign. after the brilliant operations of the eighth army, which ended in the crossing of the carpathians and the invasion of hungary, the c.-in-c., general brussilov, suffered a curious psychological breakdown. under the impression that a partial reverse had been sustained by one of the army corps, he issued an order for a general retreat, and the army began rapidly to roll back. he was haunted by imaginary dangers of the enemy breaking through, surrounding our troops, of attacks of enemy cavalry which were supposed to threaten the g.h.q. twice general brussilov moved his h.q. with a swiftness akin to a panicky flight. the c.-in-c. was thus detached from his armies and out of touch with them. we were retreating day after day in long, weary marches, and utterly bewildered. the austrians did not outnumber us, and their moral was no higher than ours. they did not press us. every day, my riflemen and kornilov's troops in our vicinity delivered short counter-attacks, took many prisoners, and captured machine-guns. the quartermaster-general's branch of the army was even more puzzled. every day it reported that the news of the retreat was unfounded; but brussilov at first disregarded these reports, and later became greatly incensed. the general staff then had recourse to another stratagem: they approached brussilov's old friend, the veteran general panchulidzev, chief of the army sanitation branch, and persuaded him that, if this retreat continued, the army might suspect treason and things might take an ugly turn. panchulidzev visited brussilov. an intensely painful scene took place. as a result, brussilov was found weeping bitterly and panchulidzev fainted. on the same day, an order was issued for an advance, and the troops went forward rapidly and easily, driving the austrians before them. the strategical position was restored as well as the reputation of the army commander. it must be admitted that not only the troops but the commanders were but scantily informed of the happenings of the front, and had hazy ideas on the general strategical scheme. the troops criticised them only when it was obvious that they had to pay the price of blood for these schemes. so it was in the carpathians, at stokhod, during the second attack on przemyshl in the spring of , etc. the moral of the troops was affected chiefly by the great galician retreat, the unhappy progress of the war on the northern and western fronts--where no victories were won--and by the tedious lingering for over a year in positions of which everyone was sick to death. * * * * * i have already mentioned the cadres of commissioned officers. the great and small shortcomings of these cadres increased as the cadres became separated. no one expected the campaign to be protracted, and the army organisation was not careful to preserve the cadres of officers and non-commissioned officers. they were drafted wholesale into the ranks at the outbreak of war. i remember so well a conversation that took place during the period of mobilisation, which was then contemplated against austria alone. it occurred in the flat of general v. m. dragomirov, one of the prominent leaders of the army. a telegram was brought in announcing that germany had declared war. there was a dead silence. everyone was deep in thought. somebody asked dragomirov: "how long do you think the war will last?" "four months." companies went to the front sometimes with five to six officers. regular officers, and later the majority of other officers, invariably and in all circumstances gave the example of prowess, pluck and self-sacrifice. it is only natural that most of them were killed. another reliable element--the n.c.o.'s of the reserve--was also recklessly squandered. in the beginning of the war they formed sometimes per cent. of the rank and file. relations between officers and men in the old army were not always based upon healthy principles. it cannot be denied that there was a certain aloofness caused by the insufficient attention paid by the officers to the spiritual requirements of the soldier's life. these relations, however, gradually improved as the barriers of caste and class were broken down. the war drew officers and men ever closer together, and in some regiments, mostly of the line, there was a true brotherhood in arms. one reservation must here be made. the outward intercourse bore the stamp of the general lack of culture from which not only the masses but also the russian intellectuals suffered. heartfelt solicitude, touching care of the men's needs, simplicity and friendliness--all these qualities of the russian officer, who lay for months on end in the wet, dirty trenches beside their men, ate out of the same pot, died quietly and without a murmur, was buried in the same "fraternal grave"--were marred by an occasional roughness, swearing, and sometimes by arbitrariness and blows. there can be no doubt that the same conditions existed within the ranks, and the only difference was that the sergeant and the corporal were rougher and more cruel than the officers. these deplorable circumstances coupled with the boredom and stupidity of barrack life, and the petty restrictions imposed upon the men by the military regulations, gave ample scope for underground seditious propaganda in which the soldier was described as the "victim of the arbitrariness of the men with golden epaulettes." the sound feeling and naturally healthy outlook of the men was not mentioned while the discomforts of military life were insisted on in order to foster a spirit of discontent. this state of affairs was all the more serious because during the war the process of consolidating the different units became more and more difficult. these units, and especially the infantry regiments, suffering terrible losses and changing their personnel ten or twelve times, became to some extent recruiting stations through which men flowed in an uninterrupted stream. they remained there but a short time, and failed to become imbued with the military traditions of their unit. the artillery and some other special branches remained comparatively solid, and this was due in some measure to the fact that their losses were, as compared with the losses suffered by the infantry, only in the proportion of one to ten or one to twenty. on the whole the atmosphere in the army and in the navy was not, therefore, particularly wholesome. in varying degrees, the two elements of the army--the rank and file and the commanding cadres--were divided. for this the russian officers, as well as the intellectuals, were undoubtedly responsible. their misdeeds resulted in the idea gaining ground that the _barin_ (master) and the officer were opposed to the _moujik_ and the soldier. a favourable atmosphere was thus created for the work of destructive forces. anarchist elements were by no means predominant in the army. the foundations, though somewhat unstable, had to be completely shattered; the new power had to commit a long series of mistakes and crimes to convert the state of smouldering discontent into active rebellion, the bloody spectre of which will for some time to come hang over our hapless russian land. destructive outside influences were not counteracted in the army by a reasonable process of education. this was due partly to the political unpreparedness of the officers, partly to the instinctive fear felt by the old régime of introducing "politics" into barracks, even with a view to criticising subversive doctrines. this fear was felt not only in respect of social and internal problems but even in respect of foreign policy. thus, for example, an imperial order was issued shortly before the war, strictly prohibiting any discussion amongst the soldiers on the subject of the political issues of the moment (the balkan question, the austro-serbian conflict, etc.). on the eve of the inevitable national war, the authorities persistently refrained from awakening wholesome patriotism by explaining the causes and aims of the war, and instructing the rank and file on the slav question and our long-drawn struggle against germanism. i must confess that, like many others, i did not carry out that order, and that i endeavoured properly to influence the moral of the archangel regiment which i then commanded. i published an impassioned article against the order in the military press, under the title _do not quench the spirit_. i feel certain that the statue of strassbourg in the place de la concorde in paris, draped in a black veil, played an important part in fostering the heroic spirit of the french army. propaganda penetrated into the old russian armies from all sides. there can be no doubt that the fitful attempts of the ever-changing governments of goremykin, sturmer, trepov, etc., to arrest the normal course of life in russia, provided ample material for propaganda and roused the anger of the people, which was reflected in the army. socialist and defeatist writers took advantage of this state of affairs. lenin first contrived to introduce his doctrines into russia through the social democratic party of the duma. the germans worked with even greater intensity. it should, however, be noted that all this propaganda from outside and from within affected chiefly the units of the rear, the garrisons and reserve battalions of the main centres, and especially of petrograd, and that, before the revolution, its influence at the front was comparatively insignificant. reinforcements reached the front in a state of perplexity, but under the influence of a saner atmosphere, and of healthier, albeit more arduous, conditions of warfare, they rapidly improved. the effect of destructive propaganda was, however, noticeable in certain units where the ground was favourable, and two or three cases of insubordination of entire units occurred before the revolution, and were severely repressed. finally, the bulk of the army--the peasantry--was confronted with one practical question which _prompted them instinctively to delay the social revolution_: "the land would be divided in our absence. when we return we shall divide it." * * * * * the inadequate organisation of the rear, the orgy of theft, high prices, profiteering and luxury, for which the front paid in blood, naturally afforded material for propaganda. the army, however, suffered most heavily from the lack of technical means, especially of ammunition. it was only in that general sukhomlinov's trial disclosed to the russian army and to public opinion the main causes of the military catastrophe of . plans for replenishing the russian army stores had been completed, and credits for that purpose assigned as early as in . curiously enough, these credits were increased on the initiative of the commission for national defence, not of the ministry of war. as a rule, neither the duma nor the ministry of finance ever refused war credits or reduced them. during sukhomlinov's tenure of office the war ministry obtained a special credit of million roubles, of which less than millions were spent. before the war, the question of providing the army with munitions after the peace-time stores were exhausted was never even raised. it is true that the intensity of firing reached, from the very outbreak of war, unexpected and unheard-of proportions, which upset all the theoretical calculations of military specialists in russia and abroad. naturally, heroic measures were necessary in order to deal with this tragic situation. meanwhile, the supplies of ammunition for the reinforcements that came to the front--at first only / th equipped, and later without any rifles at all--were exhausted as early as in october, . the commander-in-chief of the south-western front telegraphed to g.h.q.: "the machinery for providing ammunition has completely broken down. in the absence of fresh supplies, we shall have to cease fighting, or else send troops to the front in an extremely precarious condition." at the same time (the end of september) marshal joffre inquired "whether the imperial russian army was adequately supplied with shells for the uninterrupted conduct of war." the war minister, general sukhomlinov, replied: "the present condition of the russian army in respect of ammunition gives no ground for serious apprehension." orders were not placed abroad, and japanese and american rifles were refused "in order to avoid the inconvenience due to different calibres." when the man who was responsible for the military catastrophe faced his judges in august, , his personality produced a pitiful impression. the trial raised a more serious, painful question: "how could this irresponsible man, with no real knowledge of military matters, and perhaps even consciously a criminal, have remained in power for six years?" how "shamelessly indifferent to good and evil," according to pushkin's saying, the military bureaucracy must have been, that surrounded him and tolerated the sins of omission and commission, which invariably and systematically injured the interests of the state. the final catastrophe came in . i shall never forget the spring of , the great tragedy of the russian army---the galician retreat. we had neither cartridges nor shells. from day to day, we fought heavy battles and did lengthy marches. we were desperately tired--physically and morally. from hazy hopes we plunged into the depths of gloom. i recall an action near przemyshl in the middle of may. the fourth rifle division fought fiercely for eleven days. for eleven days the german heavy guns were roaring, and they literally blew up rows of trenches, with all their defenders. we scarcely replied at all--we had nothing to reply with. utterly exhausted regiments were beating off one attack after another with bayonets, or firing at a close range. blood was flowing, the ranks were being thinned, and graveyards growing. two regiments were almost entirely annihilated by firing. i would that our french and british friends, whose technical achievement is so wondrous, could note the following grotesque fact, which belongs to russian history: our only six-inch battery had been silent for three days. when it received fifty shells the fact was immediately telephoned to all regiments and companies, and all the riflemen heaved a sigh of relief and joy. what painful, insulting irony there was in brussilov's circular, in which the c.-in-c., incapable of providing us with ammunition, and with a view to raising our spirits and our moral, advised us not to lay too much stress upon the german superiority in heavy guns, because there had been many cases of the germans inflicting but small losses in our ranks by spending an enormous amount of shells.... on may st, general yanushkevitch (chief of the staff of the supreme c.-in-c., the grand duke nicholas nicholaievitch) telegraphed to the war minister: "the evacuation of przemyshl is an accomplished fact. brussilov alleges a shortage of ammunition, that _bête noire_, yours and mine ... a loud cry comes from all the armies: 'give us cartridges.'" * * * * * i am not inclined to idealise our army. i have to speak many sad truths about it. but when the pharisees--the leaders of the russian revolutionary democracy--endeavour to explain away the collapse of the army for which they are mainly responsible, by saying that the army was already on the verge of collapse, they are lying. i do not deny the grave shortcomings of our system of appointments to the high command, the errors of our strategy, tactics and organisation, the technical backwardness of our army, the defects of the officers' corps, the ignorance of the rank and file, and the vices of barrack life. i know the extent of desertions and shirking, of which our intellectuals were hardly less guilty than the ignorant masses. the revolutionary democracy did not, however, devote special attention to _these_ serious defects of the army. it could not remedy these evils, did not know how to cure them, and, in fact, did not combat them at all. speaking for myself, i do not know that the revolutionary democracy has cured or even dealt seriously and effectively with any one of these evils. what of the famous "freedom from bondage" of the soldier? discarding all the exaggerations which this term implies, it may be said that the mere fact of the revolution brought about a certain change in the relations between the officers and the men. in normal circumstances, and without coarse and malicious outside interference, this change might have become a source of great moral strength, instead of a disaster. it was into this sore that the revolutionary democracy poured poison. the very essence of the military organisation: its eternal, unchangeable characteristics, discipline, individual authority, and the non-political spirit of the army, were ruthlessly assailed by the revolutionary democracy. these characteristics were lost. and yet it seemed as if the downfall of the old régime opened new and immense possibilities for cleansing and uplifting the russian people's army and its command morally and technically. like people, like army. after all, the old russian army, albeit suffering from the deficiencies of the russian people, had also the people's virtues, and particularly an exceptional power of endurance in facing the horrors of war. the army fought without a murmur for nearly three years. with extraordinary prowess and self-sacrifice the men went into action with empty hands against the deadly technique of the enemy. the rivers of blood shed by the rank and file atoned for the sins of the supreme power, the government, the people, and of the army itself.[ ] our late allies should never forget that in the middle of january, , the russian army was holding on its front enemy divisions, or per cent. of the enemy's forces operating on the european and asiatic fronts. the old russian army was still strong enough to continue the war and to win victories. [diagram: comparative forces of the germans in different theatres of war] chapter iii. the old army and the emperor. in august, , the emperor, influenced by the entourage of the empress and of rasputin, decided to take the supreme command of the army. eight cabinet ministers and some politicians warned the emperor against this dangerous step, but their pleadings were of no avail. the official motives they adduced were, on the one hand, the difficulty of combining the tasks of governing the country and commanding the army, and, on the other, the risk of assuming responsibility for the army at a time when it was suffering reverses and retreating. the real motive, however, was the fear lest the difficult position of the army be further imperilled by the lack of knowledge and experience of the new supreme c.-in-c., and that the german-rasputin clique that surrounded him, having already brought about the paralysis of the government and its conflict with the duma, would bring about the collapse of the army. there was a rumour, which was afterwards confirmed, that the emperor came to this decision partly because he feared the entourage of the empress, and partly because of the popularity of the grand duke nicholas, which was growing in spite of the reverses suffered by the army. on august rd, an order was issued to the army and navy. to the official text, the emperor added a note in his own hand, a facsimile of which is reproduced overleaf: this decision, in spite of its intrinsic importance, produced no strong impression upon the army. the high commanding officers and the lower grades of commissioned officers were well aware that the emperor's personal part in the supreme command would be purely nominal, and the question in everyone's mind was: "who will be the chief of staff?" the appointment of general alexeiev appeased the anxiety of the officers. the rank and file cared but little for the technical side of the command. to them, the czar had always been the supreme leader of the army. one thing, however, somewhat perturbed them: the belief had gained ground among the people years before that the emperor was unlucky. [illustration: note added by the emperor to army and navy order _translation_:--"with firm faith in the grace of god, and with unshaken assurance of final victory, let us fulfil our sacred duty of defending russia till the end, and let us not bring shame to the russian land.--nicholas."] in reality, it was general m. v. alexeiev who took command of the armed forces of russia. in the history of the russian war and the russian turmoil, general alexeiev holds so prominent a place that his importance cannot be gauged in a few lines. a special historical study would be necessary in order to describe the career of a man whose military and political activities, which some have severely criticised and others extolled, never caused anyone to doubt that (in the words of an army order to the volunteer army) "his path of martyrdom was lighted by crystalline honesty and by a fervent love for his mother country--whether great or downtrodden." alexeiev sometimes did not display sufficient firmness in enforcing his demands, but, in respect of the independence of the "stavka" (g.h.q.) from outside influences, he showed civic courage which the high officials of the old régime, who clung to their offices, completely lacked. one day, after an official dinner at mohilev, the empress took alexeiev's arm, and went for a walk in the garden with him. she mentioned rasputin. in terms of deep emotion she tried to persuade the general that he was wrong in his attitude towards rasputin, that "the old man is a wonderful saint," that he was much calumniated, that he was deeply devoted to the imperial family, and, last but not least, that his visit would bring luck to the "stavka." alexeiev answered dryly that, so far as he was concerned, the question had long since been settled. should rasputin appear at g.h.q., he would immediately resign his post. "is this your last word?" "yes, certainly." the empress cut the conversation short, and left without saying good-bye to the general, who afterwards admitted that the incident had an ill-effect upon the emperor's attitude towards him. contrary to the established opinion, the relations between the emperor and alexeiev, outwardly perfect, were by no means intimate or friendly, or even particularly confidential. the emperor loved no one except his son. therein lies the tragedy of his life as a man and as a ruler. several times general alexeiev, depressed by the growth of popular discontent with the regime and the crown, endeavoured to exceed the limits of a military report and to represent to the emperor the state of affairs in its true light. he referred to rasputin and to the question of a responsible ministry. he invariably met with the impenetrable glance, so well-known to many, and the dry retort: "i know." not another word. in matters of army administration, the emperor fully trusted alexeiev, and listened attentively to the general's long, and perhaps even too elaborate, reports. attentively and patiently he listened, but these matters did not seem to appeal to him. there were differences of opinion in regard to minor matters, appointments to g.h.q., new posts, etc. no doubt was left in my mind as to the emperor's complete indifference in matters of high strategy after i read an important record--that of the deliberations of a military council held at g.h.q. at the end of , under the chairmanship of the emperor. all the commanders-in-chief and the high officials of g.h.q. were present, and the plans of the campaign and of a general advance were discussed. every word uttered at the conference was placed on record. one could not fail to be impressed by the dominating and guiding part played by general gourko--chief of the general staff _pro tem._--by the somewhat selfish designs of various commanders-in-chief, who were trying to adapt strategical axioms to the special interests of their fronts, and finally by the total indifference of the supreme c.-in-c. relations similar to those just described continued between the emperor and the chief of staff when general gourko took charge of that office while alexeiev, who had fallen seriously ill in the autumn of , was undergoing a cure at sevastopol, without, however, losing touch with g.h.q., with which he communicated by direct wire. * * * * * meanwhile, the struggle between the progressive block of the duma and the government (general alexeiev and the majority of the commanding officers undoubtedly sympathised with the former) was gradually becoming more and more acute. the record of the sitting of the duma of november st, (of which the publication was prohibited and an abridged version did not appear in the press till the beginning of january, ), when shulgin and miliukov delivered their historical speeches, was circulated everywhere in the army in the shape of typewritten leaflets. feeling was already running so high that these leaflets were not concealed, but were read and provoked animated discussions in officers' messes. a prominent socialist, an active worker of the union of towns, who paid his first visit to the army in , said to me: "i am amazed at the freedom with which the worthlessness of the government and the court scandals are being discussed in regiments and messes in the presence of commanding officers, at army headquarters, etc., and that in our country of arbitrary repression ... at first it seemed to me that i was dealing with 'agents provocateurs.'" the duma had been in close connection with the officers' corps for a long time. young officers unofficially partook in the work of the commission of national defence during the period of the reorganisation of the army and revival of the fleet after the japanese war. gutchkov had formed a circle, in which savitch, krupensky, count bobrinski and representatives of the officers, headed by general gourko, were included. apparently, general polivanov (who afterwards played such an important part in contributing to the disintegration of the army, as chairman of the "polivanov commission") also belonged to the circle. there was no wish to "undermine the foundations," but merely to push along the heavy, bureaucratic van, to give impetus to the work, and initiative to the offices of the inert military administration. according to gutchkov, the circle worked quite openly, and the war ministry at first even provided the members with materials. subsequently, however, general sukhomlinov's attitude changed abruptly, the circle came under suspicion, and people began to call it "the young turks." the commission of national defence was, nevertheless, very well informed. general lukomski, who was chief of the mobilisation section, and later assistant war minister, told me that reports to the commission had to be prepared extremely carefully, and that general sukhomlinov, trivial and ignorant, produced a pitiful impression on the rare occasions on which he appeared before the commission, and was subjected to a regular cross-examination. in the course of his trial, sukhomlinov himself recounted an episode which illustrates this state of affairs. one day, he arrived at a meeting of the commission when two important military questions were to be discussed. he was stopped by rodzianko,[ ] who said to him: "get away, get away. you are to us as a red rag to a bull. as soon as you come, your requests are turned down." after the galician retreat, the duma succeeded at last in enforcing the participation of its members in the task of placing on a proper basis all orders for the army, and the unions of zemstvos and towns were permitted to create the "general committee for provisioning the army." the hard experience of the war resulted at last in the simple scheme of mobilising the russian industries. no sooner did this undertaking escape from the deadening atmosphere of military offices than it advanced with giant strides. according to official data, in july, , each army received parks of artillery instead of the requisite , whereas, in september, the figure rose to , owing to the fact that private factories had been brought into the scheme. i am in a position to state, not only on the strength of figures, but from personal experience, that, at the end of , our army, albeit falling short of the high standards of the allied armies in respect of equipment, had sufficient stores of ammunition and supplies wherewith to begin an extensive and carefully-planned operation along the entire front. these circumstances were duly appreciated in the army, and confidence in the duma and in social organisations was thereby increased. the conditions of internal policy, however, were not improving. in the beginning of , out of the extremely tense atmosphere of political strife, there arose the idea of a new remedy: "revolution." * * * * * representatives of certain duma and social circles visited alexeiev, who was ill at sevastopol. they told the general quite frankly that a revolution was brewing. they knew what the effect would be in the country, but they could not tell how the front would be impressed, and wanted advice. alexeiev strongly insisted that violent changes during the war were inadmissible, that they would constitute a deadly menace to the front, which, according to his pessimistic view, "was already by no means steady," and pleaded against any irretrievable steps for the sake of preserving the army. the delegates departed, promising to take the necessary measures in order to avert the contemplated revolution. i do not know upon what information general alexeiev based his subsequent statement to the effect that the same delegates afterwards visited generals brussilov and ruzsky, and after these generals had expressed an opposite view to his, altered their previous decision; but the preparations for the revolution continued. it is as yet difficult to elucidate all the details of these negotiations. those who conducted them are silent; there are no records; the whole matter was shrouded in secrecy, and did not reach the bulk of the army. certain facts, however, have been ascertained. several people approached the emperor, and warned him of the impending danger to the country and the dynasty--alexeiev, gourko, the archbishop shavelski, purishkevitch (a reactionary member of the duma), the grand dukes nicholas mikhailovitch and alexander mikhailovitch, and the dowager empress. after rodzianko's visit to the army in the autumn of , copies of his letter to the emperor gained circulation in the army. in that letter the president of the duma warned the emperor of the grave peril to the throne and the dynasty caused by the disastrous activities of the empress alexandra in the sphere of internal policy. on november st, the grand duke nicholas mikhailovitch read a letter to the emperor, in which he pointed out the impossible manner, known to all classes of society, in which ministers were appointed, through the medium of the appalling people who surrounded the empress. the grand duke proceeded: "... if you could succeed in removing this perpetual interference, the renascence of russia would begin at once, and you would recover the confidence of the vast majority of your subjects which is now lost. when the time is ripe--and it is at hand--you can yourself grant from the throne the desired responsibility (of the government) to yourself and the legislature. this will come about naturally, easily, without any pressure from without, and not in the same way as with the memorable act of october th, .[ ] i hesitated for a long time to tell you the truth, but made up my mind when your mother and your sisters persuaded me to do so. you are on the eve of new disturbances, and, if i may say so, new attempts. believe me, if i so strongly emphasise the necessity for your liberation from the existing fetters, i am doing so not for personal motives, but only in the hope of saving you, your throne, and our beloved country from irretrievable consequences of the gravest nature." all these representations were of no avail. several members of the right and of the liberal wing of the duma and of the progressive bloc, members of the imperial family, and officers, joined the circle. one of the grand dukes was to make a last appeal to the emperor before active measures were undertaken. in the event of failure, the imperial train was to be stopped by an armed force on its way from g.h.q. to petrograd. the emperor was to be advised to abdicate, and, in the event of his refusal, he was to be removed by force. the rightful heir, the czarevitch alexis, was to be proclaimed emperor, and the grand duke michael, regent. at the same time, a large group of the progressive bloc of the duma, of representatives of zemstvos and towns--well versed in the activities of the circle--held several meetings, at which the question was discussed of "the part the duma was to play after the _coup d'état_."[ ] the new ministry was then outlined, and of the two suggested candidates for the premiership, rodzianko and prince lvov, the latter was chosen. fate, however, decreed otherwise. before the contemplated _coup d'état_ took place, there began, in the words of albert thomas, "the brightest, the most festive, the most bloodless russian revolution." chapter iv. the revolution in petrograd. i did not learn of the course of events in petrograd and at g.h.q. until some time had elapsed, and i will refer to these events briefly in order to preserve the continuity of my narrative. in a telegram addressed to the emperor by the members of the council of the empire on the night of the th february, the state of affairs was described as follows:-- "owing to the complete disorganisation of transport and to the lack of necessary materials, factories have stopped working. forced unemployment, and the acute food crisis due to the disorganisation of transport, have driven the popular masses to desperation. this feeling is further intensified by hatred towards the government and grave suspicions against the authorities, which have penetrated deeply into the soul of the nation. all this has found expression in a popular rising of elemental dimensions, and the troops are now joining the movement. the government, which has never been trusted in russia, is now utterly discredited and incapable of coping with the dangerous situation." preparations for the revolution found favourable ground in the general condition of the country, and had been made long since. the most heterogeneous elements had taken part in these activities; the german government, which spared no means for socialist and defeatist propaganda in russia, and especially among the workmen; the socialist parties, who had formed "cells" among the workmen and in the regiments; undoubtedly, too, the protopopov ministry, which was said to have been provoking a rising in the streets in order to quell it by armed force, and thus clear the intolerably tense atmosphere. it would seem that all these forces were aiming at the same goal, which they were trying to reach by diverse means, actuated by diametrically opposed motives. at the same time, the progressive block and social organisations began to prepare for great events which they considered inevitable, and other circles, in close touch with these organisations or sharing their views, were completing the arrangements for a "_palace coup d'état_" as the last means of averting the impending revolution. nevertheless, the rebellion started as an elemental force and caught everybody unawares. several days later, when general kornilov visited the executive committee of the petrograd soviet of workmen and soldiers' deputies, prominent members of that body incidentally explained that "the soldiers mutinied independently of the workmen, with whom the soldiers had not been in touch on the eve of the rebellion," and that the "mutiny had not been prepared--hence the absence of a corresponding administrative organ." as regards the circles of the duma and the social organisations, they were prepared for a _coup d'état_, but not for the revolution. in the blazing fire of the outbreak they failed to preserve their moral balance and judgment. the first outbreak began on february rd, when crowds filled the streets, meetings were held, and the speakers called for a struggle against the hated power. this lasted till the th, when the popular movement assumed gigantic proportions and there were collisions with the police, in which machine-guns were brought into action. on the th an ukaze was received proroguing the duma, and on the morning of the th the members of the duma decided not to leave petrograd. on the same morning the situation underwent a drastic change, because the rebels were joined by the reserve battalions of the litovski, volynski, preobrajenski, and sapper guards' regiments. they were reserve battalions, as the real guards' regiments were then on the south-western front. these battalions did not differ, either in discipline or spirit, from any other unit of the line. in several battalions the commanding officers were disconcerted, and could not make up their minds as to their own attitude. this wavering resulted, to a certain extent, in a loss of prestige and authority. the troops came out into the streets without their officers, mingled with the crowds, and were imbued with the crowds' psychology. armed throngs, intoxicated with freedom, excited to the utmost, and incensed by street orators, filled the streets, smashed the barricades, and new crowds of waverers joined them. police detachments were mercilessly slaughtered. officers who chanced to be in the way of the crowds were disarmed and some of them killed. the armed mob seized the arsenal, the fortress of peter and paul, and the kresti prison. on that decisive day there were no leaders--there was only the tidal wave. its terrible progress appeared to be devoid of any definite object, plan, or watchword. the only cry that seemed to express the general spirit was "_long live liberty_." somebody was bound to take the movement in hand. after violent discussions, much indecision and wavering, that part was assumed by the duma. a committee of the duma was formed, which proclaimed its objects on february th in the following guarded words:-- "in the strenuous circumstances of internal strife caused by the activities of the old government, the temporary committee of the members of the duma has felt compelled to undertake the task of restoring order in the state and in society.... the committee expresses its conviction that the population and the army will render assistance in the difficult task of creating a new government, which will correspond to the wishes of the population, and which will be in a position to enjoy its confidence." there can be no doubt that the duma, having led the patriotic and national struggle against the government detested by the people, and having accomplished great and fruitful work in the interests of the army, had obtained recognition in the country and in the army. the duma now became the centre of the political life of the country. no one else could have taken the lead in the movement. no one else could have gained the confidence of the country, or such rapid and full recognition as the supreme power, as the power that emanated from the duma. the petrograd soviet of workmen and soldiers' deputies was fully aware of this fact, and it did not then claim _officially_ to represent the russian government. such an attitude towards the duma at that moment created the illusion of the _national_ character of the provisional government created by the duma. alongside, therefore, with the troops that mingled with the armed mob and destroyed in their trail everything reminiscent of the old power, alongside with the units that had remained faithful to that power and resisted the mob, regiments began to flock to the taurida palace with their commanding officers, bands and banners. they greeted the new power in the person of rodzianko, president of the duma, according to the rules of the old ritual. the taurida palace presented an unusual sight--legislators, bureaucrats, soldiers, workmen, women; a chamber, a camp, a prison, a headquarters, ministries. everyone foregathered there seeking protection and salvation, demanding guidance and answers to puzzling questions which had suddenly arisen. on the same day, february th, an announcement was made from the taurida palace:-- "citizens. representatives of the workmen, soldiers and people of petrograd, sitting in the duma, declare that the first meeting of their representatives will take place at seven o'clock to-night on the premises of the duma. let the troops that have joined the people immediately elect their representatives--one to each company. let the factories elect their deputies--one to each thousand. factories with less than a thousand workmen to elect one deputy each." this proclamation had a grave and fateful effect upon the entire course of events. in the first place, it created an organ of unofficial, but undoubtedly stronger, power alongside with the provisional government--the soviet of workmen and soldiers' deputies, against which the government proved impotent. in the second place, it converted the political and bourgeois revolution, both outwardly and inwardly, into a social revolution, which was unthinkable, considering the condition of the country at that time. such a revolution in war time could not fail to bring about terrible upheavals. lastly, it established a close connection between the soviet, which was inclined towards bolshevism and defeatism, and the army, which was thus infected with a ferment which resulted in its ultimate collapse. when the troops, fully officered, smartly paraded before the taurida palace, it was only for show. the link between the officers and the men had already been irretrievably broken; discipline had been shattered. henceforward, the troops of the petrograd district represented a kind of pretorian guard, whose evil force weighed heavily over the provisional government. all subsequent efforts made by gutchkov, general kornilov and g.h.q. to influence them and to send them to the front were of no avail, owing to the determined resistance of the soviet. the position of the officers was undoubtedly tragic, as they had to choose between loyalty to their oath, the distrust and enmity of the men, and the dictates of practical necessity. a small portion of the officers offered armed resistance to the mutiny, and most of them perished. some avoided taking any part in the events, but the majority in the regiments, where comparative order prevailed, tried to find in the duma a solution of the questions which perturbed their conscience. at a big meeting of officers held in petrograd on march st, a resolution was carried: "to stand by the people and unanimously to recognise the power of the executive committee of the duma, pending the convocation of the constituent assembly; because a speedy organisation of order and of united work in the rear were necessary for the victorious end of the war." * * * * * owing to the unrestrained orgy of power in which the successive rulers appointed at rasputin's suggestion had indulged during their short terms of office, there was in no political party, no class upon which the czarist government could rely. everybody considered that government as the enemy of the people. extreme monarchists and socialists, the united nobility, labour groups, grand dukes and half-educated soldiers--all were of the same opinion. i do not intend to examine the activities of the government which led to the revolution, its struggle against the people and against representative institutions. i will only draw a summary of the accusations which were justly levelled by the duma against the government on the eve of its downfall: all the institutions of the state and of society--the council of the empire, the duma, the nobility, the zemstvos, the municipalities--were under suspicion of disloyalty, and the government was in open opposition to them, and paralysed all their activities in matters of statesmanship and social welfare. lawlessness and espionage had reached unheard-of proportions. the independent russian courts of justice became subservient to "the requirements of the political moment." [illustration: funeral of the first victims of the march revolution in petrograd.] whilst in the allied countries all classes of society worked whole-heartedly for the defence of their countries, in russia that work was repudiated with contempt, and the work was done by unskilled and occasionally criminal hands, which resulted in such disastrous phenomena as the activities of sukhomlinov and protopopov. the committee "of military industries," which had rendered great services in provisioning the army, was being systematically destroyed. shortly before the revolution its labour section was arrested without any reason being assigned, and this very nearly caused sanguinary disturbances in the capital. measures adopted by the government without the participation of social organisations shattered the industrial life of the country. transport was disorganised, and fuel was wasted. the government proved incapable and impotent in combating this disorder, which was undoubtedly caused to a certain extent by the selfish and sometimes rapacious designs of industrial magnates. the villages were derelict. a series of wholesale mobilisations, without any exemptions granted to classes which worked for defence, deprived the villages of labour. prices were unsettled, and the big landowners were given certain privileges. later, the grain contribution was gravely mismanaged. there was no exchange of goods between towns and villages. all this resulted in the stopping of food supplies, famine in the towns, and repression in the villages. government servants of all kinds were impoverished by the tremendous rise in prices of commodities, and were grumbling loudly. ministerial appointments were staggering in their fitfulness, and appeared to the people as a kind of absurdity. the demands of the country for a responsible cabinet were voiced by the duma and by the best men. as late as the morning of february th, the duma considered that the granting of the minimum of the political desiderata of russian society was sufficient to postpone "the last hour in which the fate of the mother country and of the dynasty was to be settled." public opinion and the press were smothered; the military censorship of all internal regions (including moscow and petrograd) had made the widest use of its telephones. it was impregnable, protected by all the powers of martial law. ordinary censorship was no less severe. the following striking fact was discussed in the duma: in february, , a strike movement, prompted to a certain extent by the germans, began to spread in the factories. the labour members of the military industries committee then drafted a proclamation, as follows:--"comrades, workmen of petrograd, we deem it our duty to address to you an urgent request to resume work. the labouring class, fully aware of its present-day responsibilities, must not weaken itself by a protracted strike. the interests of the labouring class are calling upon you to resume work." in spite of gutchkov's appeal to the minister of the interior and to the chief censor, this appeal was twice removed from the printing press, and was prohibited. the question is still open for discussion and investigation as to what proportion of the activities of the old régime in the domain of economics can be attributed to individuals, what to the system, and what to the insuperable obstacles created in the country by a devastating war. but no excuse will ever be found for stifling the conscience, the mind, and the spirit of the people and all social initiative. no wonder, therefore, that moscow and the provinces joined the revolution without any appreciable resistance. outside petrograd, where the terror of street fighting and the rowdiness of a bloodthirsty mob were absent (there were, however, many exceptions), the revolution was greeted with satisfaction, and even with enthusiasm, not only by the revolutionary democracy, but by the real democracy, the bourgeoisie and the civil service. there was tremendous animation; thousands of people thronged the streets. fiery speeches were made. there was great rejoicing at the deliverance from the terrible nightmare; there were bright hopes for the future of russia. there was the word: "liberty." it was in the air. it was reproduced in speeches, drawings, in music, in song. it was stimulating. it was not yet stained by stupidity, by filth and blood. prince eugene troubetskoi wrote: "this revolution is unique. there have been bourgeois revolutions and proletarian revolutions, but such a national revolution, in the broadest sense of the word, as the present russian revolution, there has never been. everyone took part in this revolution, everyone made it: the proletariat, the troops, the bourgeoisie, even the nobility ... all the live forces of the country.... may this unity endure!" in these words the hopes and fears of the russian intelligencia, not the sad russian realities, are reflected. the cruel mutinies at helsingfors, kronstadt, reval, and the assassination of admiral nepenin and of many officers were the first warnings to the optimists. * * * * * in the first days of the revolution the victims in the capital were few. according to the registration of the all-russian union of towns, the total number of killed and wounded in petrograd was , , including soldiers (of whom were officers). of course, many wounded were not registered. the condition of petrograd, however, out of gear and full of inflammable material and armed men, remained for a long time strained and unstable. i heard later from members of the duma and of the government that the scales were swaying violently, and that they felt like sitting on a powder-barrel which might explode at any moment and blow to bits both themselves and the structure of the new government which they were creating. the deputy-chairman of the soviet of workmen and soldiers' deputies, skobelev, said to a journalist:-- "i must confess that, when in the beginning of the revolution, i went to the entrance of the taurida palace to meet the first band of soldiers that had come to the duma, and when i addressed them, i was almost certain that i was delivering one of my last speeches, and that in the course of the next few days i should be shot or hanged." several officers who had taken part in the events assured me that disorder and the universal incapacity for understanding the position in the capital were so great that _one solid battalion_, commanded by an officer who knew what he wanted, might have upset the entire position. be that as it may, the temporary committee of the duma proclaimed on march nd the formation of a provisional government. after lengthy discussions with the parallel organs of "democratic power," the soviet of workmen and soldiers' deputies, the provisional government issued a declaration:-- "( ) full and immediate amnesty for all political, religious and terrorist crimes, military mutinies and agrarian offences, etc. "( ) freedom of speech, the press, meetings, unions and strikes. political liberties to be granted to all men serving in the army within the limits of military requirements. "( ) cancellation of all restrictions of class, religion and nationality. "( ) immediate preparation for the convocation of a constituent assembly elected by universal, equal, direct and secret suffrage for the establishment of a form of government and of the constitution of the country. "( ) the police to be replaced by a people's militia, with elected chiefs, subordinate to the organ of local self-government. "( ) members of local self-governing institutions to be elected by universal, equal, direct and secret suffrage. "( ) the units of the army that have taken part in the revolutionary movement are not to be disarmed or removed from petrograd. "( ) military discipline to be preserved on parade and on duty. the soldiers, however, are to be free to enjoy all social rights enjoyed by other citizens. "the provisional government deems it its duty to add that it has no intention of taking advantage of wartime to delay carrying out the aforesaid reforms and measures." this declaration was quite obviously drafted under pressure from the "parallel power." in his book, _mes souvenirs de guerre_, general ludendorff says: "i often dreamt of that revolution which was to alleviate the burdens of our war. eternal chimera! to-day, however, the dream suddenly and unexpectedly came true. i felt as if a heavy load had fallen off my shoulders. i could not, however, foresee that it would be the grave of our might." one of the most prominent leaders of germany--the country that had worked so hard for the poisoning of the soul of the russian people--has come to the belated conclusion that "our moral collapse began with the beginning of the russian revolution." chapter v. the revolution and the imperial family. alone in the governor's old palace at mohilev the czar suffered in silence; his wife and children were far away, and there was no one with him in whom he was able or willing to confide. protopopov and the government had at first represented the state of affairs as serious, but not alarming--popular disturbances to be suppressed with "a firm hand." several hundred machine-guns had been placed at the disposal of general habalov, commander of the troops of the petrograd district. both he and prince golitzin, president of the cabinet, had been given full authority to make use of exceptional means of quelling the riots. on the morning of the th general ivanov had been despatched with a small detachment of troops and a secret warrant, to be made public after the occupation of czarskoe selo. the warrant invested him with full military and civic powers. no one could have been less fitted than general ivanov to occupy so highly important a position, which amounted actually to a military dictatorship. ivanov was a very old man--an honest soldier, unfitted to cope with political complications and no longer in possession of strength, energy, will-power, or determination.... his success in dealing with the kronstadt disturbances of most probably suggested his present nomination. afterwards, when looking over habalov's and bieliaiev's[ ] reports, i was aghast at the pusillanimity and the shirking of responsibility which they revealed. the clouds continue to darken. on february th the empress wired to the czar: "am very anxious about the state of affairs in town...." on the same day rodzianko sent his historic telegram: "position serious. anarchy in the capital. government paralysed. transport, supplies of fuel and other necessaries completely disorganised. general discontent grows. disorderly firing in the streets. military units fire at each other. imperative necessity that some person popular in the country should be authorised to form new cabinet. no delay possible. any delay fatal. i pray god that the monarch be not now held responsible." rodzianko forwarded copies of his telegram to all the commanders-in-chief, asking their support. early on the th the president of the duma wired again to the czar: "position constantly aggravated. measures must be taken immediately, as to-morrow may be too late. this hour decides the fate of our country and the dynasty." it is incredible that, after this, the czar should not have realised the impending catastrophe, but, in the weakness and irresolution that characterised him, it is probable that he seized the slightest available excuse to postpone his decision, and in a fatalistic manner, left to fate to carry out her secret decrees.... be that as it may, another impressive warning from general alexeiev, confirmed by telegrams from the commanders-in-chief, yielded no better results, and the czar, anxious about the fate of his family, left for czarskoe selo on the morning of the th, without coming to any final decision on the concessions to be granted to his people. general alexeiev, although straightforward, wise, and patriotic, was lacking in firmness, and his power and influence with the emperor were too slight to permit of his insisting on a step the obvious necessity for which was evident even to the empress. she wired to her husband on the th: "concessions inevitable." the futile journey was two days in accomplishment. two days without any correspondence or news as to the course of events, which were developing and changing every hour.... the imperial train, taking a roundabout course, was stopped at vishera by orders from petrograd. on hearing that the petrograd garrison had acclaimed the provisional committee of the duma, and that the troops of czarskoe selo had sided with the revolution, the czar returned to pskov. at pskov, on the evening of march st, the czar saw general ruzsky, who explained the position to him, but no decision was arrived at, except that on the nd of march, at a.m., the czar again sent for ruzsky, and handed him an ukase, which made the cabinet responsible to the duma. "i knew that this compromise had come too late," said ruzsky to a correspondent, "but i had no right to express my opinion, not having received any instructions from the executive committee of the duma, so i suggested that the emperor should see rodzianko."[ ] all night long discussions full of deep interest and importance to the fate of the country were held over the wire--between ruzsky, rodzianko, and alexeiev; between headquarters and the commanders-in-chief, and between lukomsky[ ] and danilov.[ ] they unanimously agreed that the abdication of the emperor was unavoidable. before midday on march nd ruzsky communicated the opinion of rodzianko and the military commanders to the czar. the emperor heard him calmly, with no sign of emotion on his fixed, immovable countenance, but at p.m. he sent ruzsky a signed act of abdication in favour of his son--a document drawn up at headquarters and forwarded to him at pskov. if the sequence of historical events follows immutable laws of its own, there also seems to be a fate influencing casual happenings of a simple, everyday nature, which otherwise seem quite avoidable. the thirty minutes that elapsed after ruzsky had received the act of abdication materially affected the whole course of subsequent events: before copies of the document could be despatched, a communication, announcing the delegates of the duma, gutchkov and shulgin, was received.... the czar again postponed his decision and stopped the publication of the act. the delegates arrived in the evening. amidst the complete silence of the audience,[ ] gutchkov pictured the abyss that the country was nearing, and pointed out the only course to be taken--the abdication of the czar. "i have been thinking about it all yesterday and to-day, and have decided to abdicate," answered the czar. "until three o'clock to-day i was willing to abdicate in favour of my son, but i then came to realise that i could not bear to part with him. i hope you will understand this? as a consequence, i have decided to abdicate in favour of my brother." the delegates, taken aback by such an unexpected turn of events, made no objection. emotion kept gutchkov silent. "he felt he could not intrude on paternal relations, and considered that any pressure brought to bear upon the emperor would be out of place." shulgin was influenced by political motives. "he feared the little czar might grow up harbouring feelings of resentment against those who had parted him from his father and mother; also the question whether a regent could take the oath to the constitution on behalf of an emperor, who was not of age was a matter of debate."[ ] "the resentment" of the little czar concerned a distant future. as to legality, the very essence of a revolution precludes the legality of its consequences. also the _enforced_ abdication of nicholas ii., his rejection of the rights of inheritance of _his son_, a minor, and, lastly, the transfer of supreme power by michael alexandrovitch, a person who _had never_ held it, to the provisional government by means of an act, in which the grand duke "appeals" to russian citizens to obey the government, are all of doubtful legality. it is not surprising that, "in the minds of those living in those first days of the revolution"--as miliukov says--"the new government, established by the revolution, was looked upon, not as a consequence of the acts of march nd and rd, but as a result of the events of february th...." i may add that later, in the minds of many commanding officers--amongst them, kornilov, alexeiev, romanovsky and markov, who played a leading part in the attempt to save russia--legal, party or dynastic considerations had no place. this circumstance is of primary importance for a proper understanding of subsequent events. about midnight on march nd the czar handed rodzianko and ruzsky two slightly amended copies of the manifesto of his abdication. * * * * * "in the midst of our great conflict with a foreign enemy, who has been striving for close on three years to enslave our country, it has been the will of god to subject russia to new and heavy trials. incipient popular disturbances now imperil the further course of the stubborn war. the fate of russia, the honour of our heroic army, the entire future of our beloved land, demand that the war should be carried to a victorious conclusion. "the cruel foe is nearly at his last gasp, and the hour approaches when our gallant army, together with our glorious allies, will finally crush our enemy's resistance. in these decisive days of russia's existence we feel it our duty to further the firm cohesion and unification of all the forces of the people, and, with the approval of the state duma, consider it best to abdicate the throne of russia and lay down our supreme power. not wishing to part from our beloved son, we transmit our inheritance to our brother, the grand duke michael alexandrovitch, and give him our blessing in ascending the throne of the russian empire. "we command our brother to rule the state in complete and undisturbed union with the representatives of the people in such legislative institutions as the people will see fit to establish, binding himself by oath thereto in the name of our beloved country. "i call all true sons of the fatherland to fulfil their sacred duty--to obey the czar in this time of sore distress and help him, together with the representatives of the people, to lead the russian state along the road to victory, happiness and glory. "may the lord our god help russia! "nicholas." * * * * * late at night the imperial train left for mohilev. dead silence, lowered blinds and heavy, heavy thoughts. no one will ever know what feelings wrestled in the breast of nicholas ii., of the monarch, the father and the man, when, on meeting alexeiev at mohilev, and looking straight at the latter with kindly, tired eyes, he said irresolutely:-- _"i have changed my mind. please send this telegram to petrograd."_ _on a small sheet of paper, in a clear hand, the czar had himself traced his consent to the immediate accession to the throne of his son, alexis_.... alexeiev took the telegram, and--did not send it. it was too late; both manifestoes had already been made public to the army and to the country. for fear of "unsettling public opinion," alexeiev made no mention of the telegram, and kept it in his portfolio until he passed it on to me towards the end of may, when he resigned his post of supreme commander-in-chief. the document, of vast importance to future biographers of the czar, was afterwards kept under seal at the operations department of general headquarters. * * * * * meantime, the members of the cabinet and of the provisional committee[ ] had assembled at the palace of the grand duke michael alexandrovitch about midday on may rd. since the th of february, the latter had been cut off from all communication with headquarters or with the emperor. but the issue of this conference was practically predetermined by the spirit prevailing in the soviet of workmen's delegates, after the gist of the manifesto became known to them, by the resolution of protest passed by their executive committee and forwarded to the government, by kerensky's uncompromising attitude, and by the general correlation of forces. except miliukov and gutchkov, all the others, "without the faintest desire of influencing the grand duke in any way," eagerly advised him to abdicate. miliukov warned them that "the support of a symbol familiar to the masses is necessary, if decided authority is to be maintained, and that the provisional government, if left alone, might founder in the sea of popular disturbances, and that it might not survive until the convocation of the constituent assembly...." after another conference with rodzianko, president of the duma, the grand duke came to his final decision to abdicate. the "declaration" of the grand duke was published on the same day: "a heavy burden has been laid on me by the wish of my brother, who has transferred the imperial throne of all russia to me at a time of unexampled warfare and popular disturbances. "animated, together with the nation, by one thought, that the welfare of our country must prevail over every other consideration, i have decided to accept supreme power only if such be the will of our great people, whose part it is to establish the form of government and new fundamental laws of the russian state through their representatives in the constituent assembly. "with a prayer to god for his blessing, i appeal to all citizens of the russian state to obey the provisional government, which is constituted and invested with full powers by the will of the state duma, until a constituent assembly, convoked at the earliest possible moment by universal, direct, equal and secret suffrage, can establish a form of government which will embody the will of the people." "michael." after his abdication, the grand duke resided in the neighbourhood of gatchino, and stood completely aloof from political life. about the middle of march, , he was arrested by order of the local bolshevik committee, taken to petrograd, and, some time later, exiled to the government of perm. it was rumoured that the grand duke, accompanied by his faithful english valet, had escaped about the middle of july; since then nothing definite has been heard about him. the search organised by the siberian government and by that of southern russia, as also by the desire of the dowager empress, yielded no certain results. the bolsheviks, for their part, volunteered no official information whatever. but subsequent investigations brought some data to light which indicated that the "release" was a deception, and that the grand duke was secretly carried off by bolsheviks, murdered in the vicinity of perm, and his body drowned under the ice. the mystery of the grand duke's fate gave rise to fanciful rumours and even to the appearance of impostors in siberia. during the summer of , at the time of the first successful advance of the siberian troops, it was widely reported both in soviet russia and in the south that the siberian anti-bolshevist forces were led by the grand duke michael alexandrovitch. periodically, until late in , his spurious manifestoes appeared in the provincial press, chiefly in papers of the extreme right. it must be noted, however, that when, in the summer of , the kiev monarchists carried on an active campaign to impart a monarchical character to the anti-bolshevist military movement, they rejected the principle of legitimacy, partly because of the personality of some of the candidates, and, in regard to michael alexandrovitch, because he had "tied himself" by a solemn promise to the constituent assembly. in consideration of the complexity and confusion of the conditions that obtained in march, , i have come to the conclusion that a struggle to retain nicholas ii. at the head of the state would have led to anarchy, disruption of the front, and terrible consequences, both for the czar and for the country. a regency, with michael alexandrovitch as regent, might have involved conflict, but no disturbance, and was certain of success. it would have been more difficult to place michael alexandrovitch on the throne, but even that would have been possible if a constitution on broad, democratic lines had been accepted by him. the members of the provisional government and of the provisional committee--miliukov and gutchkov excepted--terrorised by the soviets of workmen's delegates, and attributing too much importance to them and to the excited workmen and soldier masses in petrograd, took on themselves a heavy responsibility for the future when they persuaded the grand duke to decline the immediate assumption of supreme power.[ ] i am not referring to monarchism or to a particular dynasty. these are secondary questions. i am speaking of russia only. it is certainly hard to say whether this power would have been lasting and stable, whether it would not have undergone changes later on; but, if it had even succeeded in maintaining the army during the war, the subsequent course of russian history might have been one of progress, and the upheavals that now endanger her very existence might have been avoided. * * * * * on march th the provisional government issued an order according to which "the ex-emperor and his consort are deprived of liberty, and the ex-emperor is to be taken to czarskoe selo." the duty of arresting the empress was laid on kornilov, and orthodox monarchists never forgave him for it. but, strangely enough, alexandra fedorovna, after hearing of the warrant, expressed her satisfaction that the renowned general kornilov, and not a member of the new government, had been sent to her. the emperor was arrested by four members of the duma. on march th, after leave-takings at headquarters, the czar quitted mohilev amidst the stony silence of the crowd, and under the tearful eyes of his mother, who never saw her son again. to understand the seemingly incomprehensible behaviour of the government to the imperial family during the period of their residence both at czarskoe selo and at tobolsk, the following circumstances must be kept in mind. notwithstanding that, in the seven and a half months of the existence of the provisional government, not one single serious attempt was made to liberate the captives, yet they attracted the exclusive attention of the soviet of workmen and soldiers' delegates. on march th vice-president sokolov made the following announcement to a unanimously approving audience: "i was informed yesterday that the provisional government had consented to allow nicholas ii. to go to england and that it is discussing arrangements with the british authorities without the knowledge or the consent of the executive committee of workmen's and soldiers' delegates. we have mobilised all the military units that we can influence, and have taken measures to prevent nicholas ii. from leaving czarskoe without our permission. telegrams have been sent down the railway lines ... to detain the train of nicholas ii. should it appear.... we have despatched our commissars with the necessary number of troops and armoured cars, and have closely surrounded the alexander palace. after that we conferred with the provisional government, who confirmed all our orders. at present the late czar is under our protection, as well as under that of the provisional government...." on the st august, , the imperial family was exiled to tobolsk, and, after the establishment of bolshevist rule in siberia, they were transferred to ekaterinburg, and were the victims of incredible insults and cruelty by the mob, until they were put to death.[ ] thus did nicholas ii. atone for his grievous sins, voluntary and involuntary, against the russian people.[ ] in the course of the second kuban campaign i received the news of the death of the emperor nicholas ii., and ordered memorial services for the soul of the former leader of the russian army to be held in the volunteer army. democratic circles and the press criticised me severely for this. the words of wisdom, _vengeance is mine: i will repay_, were obviously forgotten. chapter vi. the revolution and the army. order no. . these events found me far away from the capital, in roumania, where i was commanding the eighth army corps. in our remoteness from the mother country we felt a certain tension in the political atmosphere, but we certainly were not prepared for the sudden _dénouement_ or for the shape it assumed. on the morning of march rd i received a telegram from army headquarters--"for personal information"--to the effect that a mutiny had broken out in petrograd, that the duma had assumed power, and that the publication of important state documents was expected. a few hours later the wire transmitted the manifestoes of the emperor nicholas the second and of the grand duke michael. at first an order was given for their distribution, then, much to my amazement (as the telephones had already been spreading the news) the order was countermanded and finally confirmed. these waverings were apparently due to the negotiations between the temporary committee of the duma and the headquarters of the norman front about postponing the publication of these acts owing to a sudden change in the emperor's fundamental idea, namely, the substitution of the grand duke michael for the grand duke alexis as heir to the throne. it proved, however, impossible to delay the distribution. the troops were thunderstruck. no other word can describe the first impression produced by the _manifestoes_. there was neither sorrow nor rejoicing. there was deep, thoughtful silence. thus did the regiments of the fourteenth and fifteenth divisions take the news of the abdication of their emperor. only occasionally on parade did the rifle waver and tears course down the cheeks of old soldiers. in order accurately to describe the spirit of the moment, undimmed by the passing of time, i will quote extracts from a letter i wrote to a near relation on march th: "a page of history has been turned. the first impression is stunning because it is so unexpected and so grandiose. on the whole, however, the troops have taken the events quietly. they express themselves with caution; but three definite currents in the mentality of the men can easily be traced: ( ) a return to the past is impossible; ( ) the country will receive a constitution worthy of a great people, probably a constitutional limited monarchy; ( ) german domination will come to an end and the war will be victoriously prosecuted." the emperor's abdication was considered as the inevitable result of the internal policy of the last few years. there was, however, no irritation against the emperor personally or against the imperial family. everything was forgiven and forgotten. on the contrary, everyone was interested in their fate, and feared the worst. the appointment of the grand duke nicholas as supreme commander-in-chief, and of general alexeiev as his chief-of-staff, was favourably received, alike by officers and men, and interest was manifested in the question as to whether the army would be represented in the constituent assembly. the composition of the provisional government was treated more or less as a matter of indifference. the appointment of a civilian to the war ministry was criticised, and it was only the part he had taken in the council of national defence, and his close connection with the officers' circles, that mitigated the unfavourable impression. a great many people have found it surprising and incomprehensible that the collapse of a monarchist régime several centuries old should not have provoked in the army, bred in its traditions, either a struggle or even isolated outbreaks, or that the army should not have created its own vendée. i know of three cases only of stout resistance: the march of general ivanov's detachment on czarskoe selo, organised by headquarters in the first days of the risings in petrograd, very badly executed and soon countermanded, and two telegrams addressed to the emperor by the commanding officers of the third cavalry and the guards cavalry corps, count keller (killed in kiev in by petlura's men) and khan nachitchevansky. they both offered themselves and their troops for the suppression of the mutiny. it would be a mistake to assume that the army was quite prepared to accept the provisional "democratic republic," that there were no "loyal" units or "loyal" chiefs ready to engage in the struggle. they undoubtedly existed. there were, however, two circumstances which exercised a restraining influence. in the first place, both acts of abdication were apparently legal, and the second of these acts, in summoning the people to submit to the provisional government "invested with full power," took the wind out of the sails of the monarchists. in the second place, it was apprehended that civil war might open the front to the enemy. the army was _then_ obedient to its leaders, and they--general alexeiev and all the commanders-in-chief--recognised the new power. the newly-appointed supreme commander-in-chief, the grand duke nicholas, said in his first order of the day: "the power is established in the person of the new government. i, the supreme commander-in-chief, have recognised that power for the good of our mother country, serving as an example to us of our duty as soldiers. i order all ranks of our gallant army and navy implicitly to obey the established government through their direct chiefs. only then will god grant us victory." * * * * * the days went by. i began to receive many--both slight and important-- expressions of bewilderment and questions from the units of my corps: who represents the supreme power in russia? is it the temporary committee which created the provisional government, or is it the latter? i sent an inquiry, but received no answer. the provisional government itself, apparently, had no clear notion of the essence of its power. for whom should we pray at divine service? should we sing the national anthem and "o god, save thy people!" (a prayer in which the emperor was mentioned)? these apparent trifles produced, however, a certain confusion in the minds of the men and interfered with established military routine. the commanding officers requested that the oath should be taken as soon as possible. there was also the question whether the emperor nicolas had the right to abdicate not only for himself, but for his son, who had not yet attained his majority. other questions soon began to interest the troops. we received the first order of the day of the war minister, gutchkov, with alterations of the army regulations in favour of the "democratisation of the army" (march th). by this order, inoffensive at first sight, the officers were not to be addressed by the men according to their rank, and were not to speak to the men in the second person singular. a series of petty restrictions established by army regulations for the men, such as no smoking in the streets and other public places, no card-playing, and exclusion from clubs and meetings, were removed. the consequences came as a surprise to those who were ignorant of the psychology of the rank and file. the commanding officers understood that if it were necessary to do away with certain out-of-date forms the process should be gradual and cautious, and should by no means be interpreted as one of "the fruits of the revolutionary victory." the bulk of the men did not trouble to grasp the meaning of these insignificant changes in the army regulations, but merely accepted them as a deliverance from the restrictions imposed on them by routine and by respect to the senior officers. "there is liberty, and that's all there is to it." all these minor alterations of the army regulations, broadly interpreted by the men, affected, to a certain degree, the discipline of the army. but that soldiers should be permitted, during the war and during the revolution, to join in the membership of various unions and societies formed for political purposes, was a menace to the very existence of the army. g.h.q., perturbed by this situation, had recourse to a measure hitherto unknown in the army--to a kind of plébiscite. all commanding officers, including regimental commanders, were advised to address direct telegrams to the minister of war, expressing their views on the new orders. i do not know whether the telegraph was able to cope with this task and whether the enormous mass of telegrams reached their destination, but i know that those that came to my notice were full of criticism and of fears for the future of the army. at the same time, the army council in petrograd, consisting of senior generals--the would-be guardians of the experience and traditions of the army--decided at a meeting held on march th to make the following report to the provisional government: "the army council deems it its duty to declare its full solidarity with the energetic measures contemplated by the provisional government in re-modelling our armed forces in accordance with the new forms of life in the country and in the army. we are convinced that these reforms will be the best means of achieving rapid victory and the deliverance of europe from the yoke of prussian militarism." i cannot help sympathising with a civilian war minister after such an occurrence. it was difficult for us to understand the motives by which the war ministry was guided in issuing its orders of the day. we were unaware of the unrestrained opportunities of the men who surrounded the war minister, as well as of the fact that the provisional government was already dominated by the soviet and had entered upon the path of compromise, being invariably on the losing side. at the congress of the soviets on march th, one of the speakers stated that in the conciliation commission there never was a case in which the provisional commission did not give way on important matters. * * * * * on the first of march the soviet of workmen and soldiers' delegates issued an order of the day no. ., which practically led to the transfer of actual military power to the soldiers' committees, to a system of elections and to the dismissal of commanding officers by the men. that order of the day gained wide and painful notoriety and gave the first impetus to the collapse of the army. _order no. ._ march st, . to the garrison of the petrograd district, to all guardsmen, soldiers of the line, of the artillery, and of the fleet, for immediate and strict observance, and to the workmen of petrograd for information. the soviet of workmen and soldiers' delegates has decreed: ( ) that committees be elected of representatives of the men in all companies, battalions, regiments, parks, batteries, squadrons and separate services of various military institutions, and on the ships of the fleet. ( ) all military units not yet represented on the soviet of workmen's delegates to elect one representative from each company. these representatives to provide themselves with written certificates and to report to the duma at a.m. on march nd. ( ) in all its political activities the military unit is subordinate to the soviet,[ ] and to its committees. ( ) the orders of the military commission of the duma are to be obeyed only when they are not in contradiction with the orders and decrees of the soviet. ( ) all arms--rifles, machine-guns, armoured cars, etc.--are to be at the disposal and under the control of company and battalion committees, and should never be handed over to the officers even should they claim them. ( ) on parade and on duty the soldiers must comply with strict military discipline; but off parade and off duty, in their political, social and private life, soldiers must suffer no restriction of the rights common to all citizens. in particular, saluting when off duty is abolished. ( ) officers are no longer to be addressed as "your excellency," "your honour," etc. instead, they should be addressed as "mr. general," "mr. colonel," etc. rudeness to soldiers on the part of all ranks, and in particular addressing them in the second person singular, is prohibited, and any infringement of this regulation and misunderstandings between officers and men are to be reported by the latter to the company commanders. (signed) the petrograd soviet. the leaders of the revolutionary democracy understood full well the results of order no. . kerensky is reported to have declared afterwards pathetically that he would have given ten years of his life to prevent the order from being signed. the investigation made by military authorities failed to detect the authors of this order. tchkeidze and other members of the soviet afterwards denied their personal participation and that of the members of the committee in the drafting of the order. pilates! they washed their hands of the writing of their own credo. for their words are placed on record, in the report of the secret sitting of the government, the commanders-in-chief and the executive committee of the workmen and soldiers' deputies of may th, : _tzeretelli_: you might, perhaps, understand order no. if you knew the circumstances in which it was issued. we were confronted with an unorganised mob, and we had to organise. _skobelev_: i consider it necessary to explain the circumstances in which order no. . was issued. among the troops that overthrew the old régime, the commanding officers did not join the rebels. in order to deprive the former of their importance, we were forced to issue order no. . we had inward apprehensions as to the attitude of the front towards the revolution. certain instructions were given, which provoked our distrust. to-day we have ascertained that this distrust was well founded. a member of the soviet, joseph goldenberg, editor of _new life_, was still more outspoken. he said to the french journalist, claude anet: (claude anet: _la révolution russe_) "order no. . was not an error, but a necessity. it was not drafted by sokolov. it is the expression of the unanimous will of the soviet. on the day we 'made the revolution,' we understood that if we did not dismember the old army, it would crush the revolution. we had to choose between the army and the revolution. we did not hesitate--we chose the latter, and i dare say that we were right." order no. . was disseminated rapidly and everywhere along the whole front and in the rear, because the ideas which it embodied had developed for many years, in the slums of petrograd as well as in the remote corners of the empire, such as vladivostock. they had been preached by all local army demagogues and were being repeated by all the delegates who visited the front in vast numbers and were provided with certificates of immunity by the soviet. * * * * * the masses of the soldiery were perturbed. the movement began in the rear, always more easily demoralised than the front, among the half-educated clerks, doctors' assistants, and technical units. in the latter part of march in our units, breaches of discipline only became more frequent. the officer in command of the fourth army was expecting every hour that he would be arrested at his headquarters by the licentious bands of men attached to service battalions for special duty, such as tailoring, cooking, bootmaking, etc. the text of the oath of allegiance to the russian state was received at last. the idea of supreme power was expressed in these words: "i swear to obey the provisional government now at the head of the russian state, pending the expression of the popular will through the medium of the constituent assembly." the oath was taken by the troops everywhere without any disturbance, but the idyllic hopes of the commanding officers were not fulfilled. there was no uplifting of the spirit and the perturbed minds were not quieted. i may quote two characteristic episodes. the commander of one of the corps on the roumanian front died of heart-failure during the ceremony. count keller declared that he would not compel his corps to take the oath because he did not understand the substance and the legal foundations of the supreme power of the provisional government. (replying to a question addressed from the crowd as to who had elected the provisional government, miliukov had answered: "we have been elected by the russian revolution"). count keller said he did not understand how one could swear allegiance to lvov, kerensky and other individuals, because they could be removed or relinquish their posts. was the oath a sham? i think that not only for the monarchists, but for many men who did not look upon the oath as a mere formality, it was in any case a great, moral drama difficult to live through. it was a heavy sacrifice made for the sake of the country's salvation and for the preservation of the army.... in the middle of may i was ordered to attend a council at the headquarters of the general-in-command of the fourth army. a long telegram was read from general alexeiev full of the darkest possible pessimism, recounting the beginning of the administrative machine and of the army. he described the demagogic activities of the soviet, which dominated the will-power and the conscience of the provisional government, the complete impotence of the latter and the interference of both in army administration. in order to counteract the dismemberment of the army, the despatch was contemplated of members of the duma and of the soviet, possessing a certain amount of statesmanlike experience, to the front for purposes of propaganda.... this telegram impressed us all in the same way: _general headquarters had ceased to be the chief administrative authority in the army._ and yet a stern warning and remonstrance from the high command, supported by the army, which in the first fortnight had still retained discipline and obedience might, perhaps, have relegated the soviet, which over-estimated its importance, to its proper place; might have prevented the "democratisation" of the army and might have exercised a corresponding pressure upon the entire course of political events, albeit devoid of any character of counter-revolution or of military dictatorship. the loyalty of the commanding officers and the complete absence of active resistance on their part to the destructive policy of petrograd exceeded all the expectations of the revolutionary democracy. kornilov's movement came too late. we drafted a reply suggesting stringent measures against intrusion into the sphere of military administration. on march th i received orders to proceed forthwith to petrograd and to report to the war minister. i left on the same night and by means of a complex system of carts, motor cars and railway carriages arrived in the capital after five days' journey. on my way i passed through the headquarters of generals letchitski, kaledin, and brussilov. i met many officers and many men connected with the army. everywhere i heard the same bitter complaint and the same request: "tell _them_ that _they_ are ruining the army." the summons i had received gave no indication as to the object of my errand. i was completely in the dark and made all kinds of surmises. in kiev i was struck by the cry of a newsboy who ran past. he shouted: "latest news. general denikin is appointed chief of the staff of the supreme commander-in-chief." chapter vii. impressions of petrograd at the end of march, . before his abdication the emperor signed two ukazes--appointing prince lvov president of the council of ministers and the grand-duke nicholas supreme commander-in-chief. "in view of the general attitude towards the romanov dynasty," as the official petrograd papers said, and in reality for fear of the soviet's attempting a military _coup d'état_, the grand-duke nicholas was informed on march th by the provisional government that it was undesirable that he should remain in supreme command. prince lvov wrote: "the situation makes your resignation imperative. public opinion is definitely and resolutely opposed to any members of the house of romanov holding any office in the state. the provisional government is not entitled to disregard the voice of the people, because such disregard might bring about serious complications. the provisional government is convinced that, for the good of the country, you will bow to the necessity and will resign before returning to g.h.q." this letter reached the grand-duke when he had already arrived at g.h.q. deeply offended, he immediately handed over to general alexeiev and replied to the government: "i am glad once more to prove my love for my country, which russia _heretofore_ has never doubted...." the very serious question then arose of who was to succeed him. there was great excitement at g.h.q., and all sorts of rumours were circulated, but on the day i passed mohilev nothing was known. on the rd i reported to the war minister gutchkov, whom i had never met before. he informed me that the government had decided to appoint general alexeiev to the supreme command. at first there had been differences of opinion. rodzianko and others were against alexeiev. rodzianko suggested brussilov; but now the choice had definitely fallen on alexeiev. the government considered him as a man of lenient disposition, and deemed it necessary to reinforce the supreme command by a fighting general as chief-of-staff. i had been selected on condition that general klembovski, who was then alexeiev's assistant, should remain in charge _pro tem._ until i became familiar with the work. i had been, in part, prepared for this offer by the news columns of the kiev paper. nevertheless, i felt a certain emotion, and apprehended the vast amount of work which was being thrust upon me so unexpectedly and the tremendous moral responsibility inherent in such an appointment. at great length and quite sincerely i adduced arguments against the appointment. i said that my career had been spent among my men and at fighting headquarters, that during the war i had commanded a division and an army corps, and that i was very anxious to continue this work at the front. i said that i had never dealt with matters of policy, of national defence, or of administration on such a colossal scale. the appointment, moreover, had an unpleasant feature. it appears that gutchkov had quite frankly explained to alexeiev the reasons for my appointment on behalf of the provisional government, and had given the matter the character of an ultimatum. a grave complication had thus arisen. a chief-of-staff was being imposed upon the supreme c.-in-c., and for motives not altogether complimentary to the latter. my arguments, however, were unavailing. i succeeded in obtaining a delay and the privilege of discussing the matter with general alexeiev before taking a definite decision. in the war minister's office i met my colleague, general krymov, and we were both present while the minister's assistants reported on uninteresting matters of routine. we then retired into the next room and began to talk frankly. "for god's sake," said krymov, "don't refuse the appointment. it is absolutely necessary." he imparted to me his impressions in abrupt sentences in his own peculiar and somewhat rough language, but with all his usual sincerity. he had arrived on march th, summoned by gutchkov, with whom he had been on friendly terms, and they had worked together. he was offered several prominent posts, had asked leave to look round, and then had refused them all. "i saw that there was nothing for me to do in petrograd, and i disliked it all." he particularly disliked the men who surrounded gutchkov. "i am leaving colonel samarine, of the general staff, as a liaison officer. there will be at least one live man." by the irony of fate that officer whom krymov trusted so well afterwards played a fatal part, as he was the indirect cause of the general's suicide.... krymov was very pessimistic in his account of the political situation: "nothing will come of it in any case. how can business be done when the soviet and the licentious soldiery hold the government pinioned? i offered to cleanse petrograd in two days with one division; but, of course, not without bloodshed. 'not for anything in the world,' they said. gutchkov refused. prince lvov, with a gesture of despair, exclaimed: 'oh! but there would be such a commotion!' things will get worse. one of these days i shall go back to my army corps. i cannot afford to lose touch with the troops, as it is upon them that i base all my hopes. my corps maintains complete order and, perhaps, i shall succeed in preserving that spirit." * * * * * i had not seen petrograd for four years. the impression produced by the capital was painful and strange.... to begin with, the hotel astoria, where i stayed, had been ransacked. in the hall there was a guard of rough and undisciplined sailors of the guards. the streets were crowded, but dirty and filled with the new masters of the situation in khaki overcoats. remote from the sufferings of the front, they were "deepening and saving" the revolution. from whom? i had read a great deal about the enthusiasm in petrograd, but i found none. it was nowhere to be seen. the ministers and rulers were pale, haggard, exhausted by sleepless nights and endless speeches at meetings and councils, by addresses to various delegations and to the mob. their excitement was artificial, their oratory was full of sonorous phrases and commonplaces, of which the orators themselves were presumably thoroughly sick. inwardly in their heart of hearts they were deeply anxious. no practical work was being done; in fact, the ministers had no time to concentrate their thoughts upon the current affairs of state in their departments. the old bureaucratic machine, creaking and groaning, continued to work in a haphazard manner. the old wheels were still revolving while a new handle was being applied. the officers of the regular army felt themselves to be stepsons of the revolution and were unable to hit upon a proper tone in dealing with the men. among the higher ranks, and especially the officers of the general staff, there appeared already a new type of opportunist and demagogue. these men played upon the weaknesses of the soviet and of the new governing class of workmen and soldiers, to flatter the instincts of the crowd, thereby gaining their confidence and making new openings for themselves and for their careers against the background of revolutionary turmoil. i must, however, admit that in those days the military circles proved sufficiently stolid in spite of all the efforts to dismember them, and that the seeds of demoralisation were not allowed to grow. men of the type described above, such as the young assistant of the war minister, kerensky, as well as generals brussilov, cheremissov, bonch-bruevitch, verkhovsky, admiral maximov and others were unable to strengthen their influence and their position with the officers. the citizen of petrograd, in the broadest sense of the word, was by no means enthusiastic. the first enthusiasm was exhausted and was followed by anxiety and indecision. another feature of the life in petrograd deserves to be noticed. men have ceased to be themselves. most of them seem to be acting a part instead of living a life inspired by the new breath of revolution. such was the case even in the councils of the provisional government, in which the deliberations were not altogether sincere, so i was told, owing to the presence of kerensky, the "hostage of democracy." tactical considerations, caution, partisanship, anxiety for one's career, feelings of self-preservation, nervousness and various other good and bad feelings prompted men to wear blinkers and to walk about in these blinkers as apologists for, or at least passive witnesses of, "the conquests of the revolution." such conquests as obviously savoured of death and corruption. hence the false pathos of endless speeches and meetings; hence these seemingly strange contradictions. prince lvov saying in a public speech: "the process of the great russian revolution is not yet complete, but every day strengthens our faith in the inexhaustible creative forces of the russian people, in its statesmanlike wisdom and in the greatness of its soul."... the same prince lvov bitterly complaining to alexeiev of the impossible conditions under which the provisional government was working, owing to the rapid growth of demagogy in the soviet and in the country. kerensky, the exponent of the idea of soldiers' committees, and kerensky sitting in his railway carriage and nervously whispering to his adjutant: "send these d.... committees to h...." tchkheidze and skobelev warmly advocating full democratisation of the army at a joint sitting of the soviet, of the government and of the commanders-in-chief, and during an interval in private conversation admitting the necessity of rigid military discipline and of their own incapacity to convince the soviet of this necessity.... i repeat that even then, at the end of march, one could clearly feel in petrograd that the ringing of the easter bells had lasted too long, and that they would have done better to ring the alarm bell. there were only two men of all those to whom i had the occasion to speak who had no illusions whatever: krymov and kornilov. * * * * * i met kornilov for the first time on the galician plains, near galtich, at the end of august, , when he was appointed to the command of the th infantry division and myself to the th (iron) rifle brigade. since that day, for four months, our troops went forward side by side as part of the th corps, fighting incessant, glorious and heavy battles, defeating the enemy, crossing the carpathians and invading hungary. owing to the wide extent of the front we did not often meet; nevertheless, we knew each other very well. i had already then a clear perception of kornilov's main characteristics as a leader. he had an extraordinary capacity for training troops: out of a second-rate unit from the district of kazan he made, in several weeks, an excellent fighting division. he was resolute and extremely pertinacious in conducting the most difficult and even apparently doomed operations. his personal prowess, which provoked boundless admiration and gave him great popularity among the troops, was admirable. finally, he scrupulously observed military ethics with regard to units fighting by his side and to his comrades-in-arms. many commanding officers and units lacked that quality. after kornilov's astounding escape from austrian captivity, into which he fell when heavily wounded, and covering brussilov's retreat from the carpathians, towards the beginning of the revolution, he commanded the th corps. all those who knew kornilov even slightly felt that he was destined to play an important part in the russian revolution. on march nd rodzianko telegraphed direct to kornilov: "the temporary committee of the duma requests you, for your country's sake, to accept the chief command in petrograd and to arrive at the capital at once. we have no doubt that you will not refuse the appointment, and will thereby render an inestimable service to the country." such a revolutionary method of appointing an officer to a high command, without reference to g.h.q., obviously produced a bad impression at the "stavka." the telegram received at the "stavka" is marked "undelivered," but on the same day general alexeiev, having requested the permission of the emperor, who was then at pskov, issued an order of the day (no. ): "... i agree to general kornilov being in temporary high command of the troops of the petrograd military district." i have mentioned this insignificant episode in order to explain the somewhat abnormal relations between two prominent leaders, which were occasioned by repeated, petty, personal friction. i talked to kornilov at dinner in the war minister's house. it was the only moment of rest he could snatch during the day. kornilov, tired, morose and somewhat pessimistic, discussed at length the conditions of the petrograd garrison, and his intercourse with the soviet. the hero-worship with which he had been surrounded in the army had faded in the unhealthy atmosphere of the capital among the demoralised troops. they were holding meetings, deserting, indulging in petty commerce in shops and in the street, serving as hall-porters and as personal guards to private individuals, partaking in plundering and arbitrary searches, but were not serving. it was difficult for a fighting general to understand their psychology. he often succeeded by personal pluck, disregard of danger, and by a witty, picturesque word in holding the mob, for that was what military units were. there were, however, cases when the troops did not come out of barracks to meet their commander-in-chief, when he was hissed and the flag of st. george was torn from his motor-car (by the finland regiment of the guards). kornilov's description of the political situation was the same as that given by krymov: powerlessness of the government and the inevitability of a fierce cleansing of petrograd. on one point they differed: kornilov stubbornly clung to the hope that he would yet succeed in gaining authority over the majority of the petrograd garrison. as we know, that hope was never fulfilled. chapter viii. the stavka: its rÔle and position. on march th i arrived at the stavka, and was immediately received by general alexeiev. of course he was offended. "well," he said, "if such are the orders, what's to be done?" again, as at the war ministry, i pointed out several reasons against my appointment, among others, my disinclination for staff work. i asked the general to express his views quite frankly, and in disregard of all conventionalities as my old professor, because i would not think of accepting the appointment against his will. alexeiev spoke politely, dryly, evasively, and showed again that he was offended. "the scope," he said, "was wide, work difficult, and much training necessary. let us, however, work harmoniously." in the course of my long career i have never been placed in such a position, and could not, of course, be reconciled to such an attitude. "in these circumstances," i said, "i absolutely refuse to accept the appointment. in order to avoid friction between yourself and the government, i will declare that it is entirely my own personal decision." alexeiev's tone changed immediately. "oh! no," he said, "i am not asking you to refuse. let us work together, and i will help you. also, there is no reason, if you feel that the work is not to your liking, why you should not take command of the first army, in which there will be a vacancy two or three months hence. i will have to talk the matter over with general klembovski. he could not, of course, remain here as my assistant." [illustration: general alexeiev.] [illustration: general kornilov.] our parting was not quite so frigid; but a couple of days went by and there were no results. i lived in a railway carriage, and did not go to the office or to the mess. as i did not intend to tolerate this silly and utterly undeserved position, i was preparing to leave petrograd. on march th the war minister came to the stavka and cut the gordian knot. klembovski was offered the command of an army or membership of the war council. he chose the latter, and on april th i took charge as chief of the staff. nevertheless, such a method of appointing the closest assistant to the supreme commander-in-chief, practically by force, could not but leave a certain trace. a kind of shadow seemed to lie between myself and general alexeiev, and it did not disappear until the last stage of his tenure of office. alexeiev saw in my appointment a kind of tutelage on the part of the government. from the very first moment i was compelled to oppose petrograd. i served our cause and tried to shield the supreme c.-in-c.--and of this he was often unaware--from many conflicts and much friction, taking them upon myself. as time went by friendly relations of complete mutual trust were established, and these did not cease until the day of alexeiev's death. on april nd the general received the following telegram: "the provisional government has appointed you supreme commander-in-chief. it trusts that, under your firm guidance, the army and the navy will fulfil their duty to the country to the end." my appointment was gazetted on april th. * * * * * the stavka, on the whole was not favoured. in the circles of the revolutionary democracy it was considered a nest of counter-revolution, although such a description was utterly undeserved. under alexeiev there was a loyal struggle against the disruption of the army. under brussilov--opportunism slightly tainted with subservience to the revolutionary democracy. as regards the kornilov movement, although it was not essentially counter-revolutionary, it aimed, as we shall see later, at combatting the soviets that were half-bolshevik. but, even then, the loyalty of the officers of the stavka was quite obvious. only a few of them took an active part in the kornilov movement. after the office of supreme commander-in-chief was abolished, and the new office created of supreme commanding committees, nearly all the members of the stavka under kerensky, and the majority of them under krylenko, continued to carry on the routine work. the army also disliked the stavka--sometimes wrongly, sometimes rightly--because the army did not quite understand the distribution of functions among the various branches of the service, and ascribed to the stavka many shortcomings in equipment, organisation, promotion, awards, etc., whereas these questions belonged entirely to the war ministry and its subordinates. the stavka had always been somewhat out of touch with the army. under the comparatively normal and smoothly working conditions of the pre-revolutionary period this circumstance did not greatly prejudice the working of the ruling mechanism; but now, when the army was not in a normal condition, and had been affected by the whirlwind of the revolution, the stavka naturally was behind the times. finally, a certain amount of friction could not fail to arise between the government and the stavka, because the latter constantly protested against many government measures, which exercised a disturbing influence on the army. there were no other serious reasons for difference of opinion, because neither alexeiev nor myself, nor the various sections of the stavka, ever touched upon matters of internal policy. the stavka was non-political in the fullest sense of the word, and during the first months of the revolution was a perfectly reliable technical apparatus in the hands of the provisional government. the stavka did but safeguard the highest interests of the army, and, within the limits of the war and of the army, demanded that full powers be given to the supreme commander-in-chief. i may even say that the personnel of the stavka seemed to me to be bureaucratic and too deeply immersed in the sphere of purely technical interests; they were not sufficiently interested in the political and social questions which events had brought to the fore. * * * * * in discussing the russian strategy in the great war, after august, , one should always bear in mind that it was the personal strategy of general alexeiev. he alone bears the responsibility before history for its course, its successes and failures. a man of exceptional conscientiousness and self-sacrifice, and devoted to his work, he had one serious failing: all his life he did the work of others as well as his own. so it was when he held the post of quartermaster-general of the general staff, of chief-of-staff of the kiev district, and later of the south-western front and finally of chief-of-staff to the supreme c.-in-c. nobody influenced strategical decisions, and, as often as not, final instructions, written in alexeiev's tiny and neat hand-writing, appeared unexpectedly on the desk of the quartermaster-general, whose duty under the law and whose responsibility in these matters were very grave. if such a procedure was to a certain extent justifiable, when the post of quartermaster-general was occupied by a nonentity, there was no excuse for it when he was superseded by other quartermasters-general, such as lukomski or josephovitch. these men could not accept such a position. the former, as a rule, protested by sending in memoranda embodying his opinion, which was adverse to the plan of operations. such protests, of course, were purely academic, but presented a guarantee against the judgment of history. general klembovski, my predecessor, was compelled to demand non-interference with the rightful sphere of his competence as a condition of his tenure of office. till then, alexeiev had directed all the branches of administration. when these branches acquired a still broader scope, this proved practically impossible, and i was given full liberty in my work except ... in respect of strategy. again, alexeiev began to send telegrams in his own hand of a strategical nature, orders and directions, the motives of which the quartermaster-general and myself could not understand. several times, three of us, the quartermaster-general, josephovitch, his assistant, general markov, and myself, discussed this question. the quick-tempered josephovitch was greatly excited, and asked to be appointed to a divisional command. "i cannot be a clerk," he said. "there is no need for a quartermaster-general at the stavka if every clerk can type instructions." the general and myself began to contemplate resignation. markov said that he would not stay for a single day if we went. i finally decided to have a frank talk with alexeiev. we were both under the strain of emotion. we parted as friends, but we did not settle the question. alexeiev said: "do i not give you a full share of the work? i do not understand you." alexeiev was quite sincerely surprised because during the war he had grown accustomed to a régime which appeared to him perfectly normal. so we three held another conference. after a lengthy discussion, we decided that the plan of campaign for had long since been worked out, that preparations for that campaign had reached a stage in which substantial alterations had become impossible, that the details of the concentration and distribution of troops were in the present condition of the army a difficult matter, allowing for differences of opinion; that we could perhaps manage to effect certain alterations of the plan, and that finally our retirement _in corpore_ might be detrimental to the work, and might undermine the position of the supreme c.-in-c., which was already by no means stable. we therefore decided to wait and see. we did not have to wait very long, because, at the end of may, alexeiev left the stavka, and we followed him very soon afterwards. * * * * * what place did the stavka occupy as a military and political factor of the revolutionary period? the importance of the stavka diminished. in the days of the imperial régime, the stavka, from the military point of view, occupied a predominant position. no individual or institution in the state was entitled to issue instructions or to call to account the supreme commander-in-chief, and it was alexeiev and not the czar who in reality held that office. not a single measure of the war ministry, even if indirectly affecting the interests of the army, could be adopted without the sanction of the stavka. the stavka gave direct orders to the war minister and to his department on questions appertaining to the care of the army. the voice of the stavka had a certain weight and importance in the practical domain of administration at the theatre of war, albeit without any connection with the general trend of internal policy. that power was not exercised to a sufficient degree; but on principle it afforded the opportunity of carrying on the defence of the country in co-operation with other branches of the administration, which were to a certain extent subordinate to it. with the beginning of the revolution, these conditions underwent a radical change. contrary to the examples of history and to the dictates of military science, the stavka became practically subordinate to the war minister. this was not due to any act of the government, but merely to the fact that the provisional government combined supreme power with executive power, as well as to the combination of the strong character of gutchkov and the yielding nature of alexeiev. the stavka could no longer address rightful demands to the branches of the war ministry which were attending to army equipments. it conducted a lengthy correspondence and appealed to the ministry of war. the war minister, who now signed orders instead of the emperor, exercised a strong influence upon appointments and dismissals of officers in high command. these appointments were sometimes made by him after consultation with the fronts, but the stavka was not informed. army regulations of the highest importance altering the conditions of the troops in respect of reinforcements, routine and duty, were issued by the ministry without the participation of the supreme command, which learnt of their issue only from the press. in fact, such a participation would have actually been useless. two products of the polivanov commission--the new courts and the committees--which gutchkov _accidentally_ asked me to look through, were returned with a series of substantial objections of my own, and gutchkov expounded them in vain before the representatives of the soviet. the only result was that certain changes in the drafting of the regulations were made. all these circumstances undoubtedly undermined the authority of the stavka in the eyes of the army, and prompted the generals in high command to approach the more powerful central government departments without reference to the stavka, as well as to display excessive individual initiative in matters of paramount importance to the state and to the army. thus, in may, , on the northern front, all the pre-war soldiers were discharged instead of the prescribed percentage, and this created grave difficulties on other fronts. on the south-western front ukranian units were being formed. the admiral in command of the baltic fleet ordered the officers to remove their shoulder-straps, etc. the stavka had lost influence and power, and could no longer occupy the commanding position of an administrative and moral centre. this occurred at the most terrible stage of the world war, when the army was beginning to disintegrate, and when not only the entire strength of the people was being put to the test, but the necessity had arisen for a power exceptionally strong and wide in its bearing. meanwhile, the matter was quite obvious: if alexeiev and denikin did not enjoy the confidence of the government, and were considered inadequate to the requirements of the supreme command, they should have been superseded by new men who did enjoy that confidence and who should have been invested with full powers. as a matter of fact, changes were made twice. but only the men were changed, not the principles of the high command. in the circumstances, when no one actually wielded power, military power was not centred in anybody's hands. neither the chiefs who enjoyed the reputation of serving their country loyally and with exceptional devotion, like alexeiev, and later the "iron chiefs," such as kornilov undoubtedly was and as brussilov was supposed to be, nor all the chameleons that fed from the hand of the socialist reformers of the army had any real power. the entire military hierarchy was shaken to its very foundations, though it retained all the attributes of power and the customary routine--instructions which could not move the armies, orders that were never carried out, verdicts of the courts which were derided. the full weight of oppression, following the line of the least resistance, fell solely upon the loyal commanding officers, who submitted without a murmur to persecution from above as well as from below. the government and the war ministry, having abolished repressions, had recourse to a new method of influencing the masses--to _appeals_. appeals to the people, to the army, to the cossacks, to everybody, flooded the country, inviting all to do their duty. unfortunately, only those appeals were successful that flattered the meanest instincts of the mob, inviting it to neglect its duty. as a result, it was not counter-revolution, buonapartism, or adventure, but the elemental desire of the circles where the ideas of statesmanship still prevailed, to restore the broken laws of warfare, that soon gave rise to a new watchword: "_military power must be seized_." such a task was not congenial to alexeiev or brussilov. kornilov subsequently endeavoured to undertake it, and began independently to carry out a series of important military measures and to address ultimatums on military questions to the government. at first, the only question raised was that of granting "full powers" to the supreme command within the scope of its competence. it is interesting to compare this state of affairs with that of the command of the armies of our powerful foe. ludendorff, the first quartermaster-general of the german army says (_mes souvenirs de guerre_): "in peace-time the imperial government exercised full power over its departments.... when the war began the ministers found it difficult to get used to seeing in g.h.q. a power which was compelled, by the immensity of its task, to act with greater resolution as that resolution weakened in berlin. would that the government could clearly have perceived this simple truth.... the government went its own way, and never abandoned any of its designs in compliance with the wishes of g.h.q. on the contrary, it disregarded much that we considered necessary for the prosecution of the war." if we recall that in march, , the deputy of the reichstag, haase, was more than justified in saying that the chancellor was nothing but a figure-head covering the military party, and that ludendorff was actually governing the country, we will understand the extent of the power which the german command deemed it necessary to exercise in order to win the world war. i have drawn a general picture of the stavka, such as it was when i took charge as chief-of-staff. taking the entire position into consideration, i had two main objects in view: first, to counteract with all my strength the influences which were disrupting the army, so as to preserve that army and to hold the eastern front in the world struggle; and secondly, to reinforce the rights, the power, and the authority of the supreme commander-in-chief. a loyal struggle was at hand. in that struggle, which only lasted two months, all sections of the stavka had their share. [illustration: general markov.] chapter ix. general markov. the duties of the quartermaster-general in the stavka were many-sided and complex. as in the european army, it proved therefore necessary to create the office of a second quartermaster-general. the first dealt merely with matters concerning the conduct of operations. i invited general markov to accept this new office. his fate was linked up with mine until his glorious death at the head of a volunteer division. that division afterwards bore with honour his name, which has become legendary in the volunteer army. at the outbreak of war he was a lecturer at the academy of the general staff. he went to the war as staff-officer to general alexeiev. then he joined the th division, and in december, , he served under my command as chief-of-staff of the th rifle brigade, which i then commanded. when he came to our brigade he was unknown and unexpected, as i had asked the army g.h.q. for another man to be appointed. immediately upon his arrival he told me that he had recently undergone a slight operation, was not feeling well, was unable to ride, and would not go up to the front line. i frowned, and the staff exchanged significant glances. the "professor," as we afterwards often called him as a friendly jest, was obviously out of place in our midst. i started one day with my staff, all mounted, towards the line where my riflemen were fiercely fighting, near the town of friestach. the enemy was upon us, and the fire was intense. suddenly, repeated showers of shrapnel came down upon us. we wondered what it meant, and there was markov gaily smiling, openly driving to the firing line in a huge carriage. "i was bored staying in, so i have come to see what is going on here." from that day the ice was broken, and markov assumed a proper place in the family of the "iron division." i have never met a man who loved military work to such an extent as markov. he was young (when he was killed in the summer of in action he was only years of age), impetuous, communicative, eloquent. he knew how to approach, and closely, too, any _milieu_--officers, soldiers, crowds--sometimes far from sympathetic, and how to instil into them his straightforward, clear, and indisputable articles of faith. he was very quick to grasp the situation in battle, and made work much easier for me. markov had one peculiarity. he was quite exceptionally straightforward, frank, and abrupt when attacking those who, in his opinion, did not display adequate knowledge, energy, or pluck. while he was at headquarters the troops therefore viewed him (as in the brigade) with a certain reserve, and sometimes even with intolerance (as in the rostov period of the volunteer army). no sooner, however, did markov join the division than the attitude towards him became one of love on the part of the riflemen, or even enthusiasm on the part of the volunteers. the army had its own psychology. it would have no abruptness and blame from markov as a staff officer. but when _their_ markov, in his usual short fur coat with his cap at the back of his head, waving his inevitable whip, was in the rifleman's firing line, under the hot fire of the enemy, he could be as violent as possible, he could shout and swear--his words provoked sometimes sorrow, sometimes mirth, but there was always a sincere desire to be worthy of his praise. i recall the heavy days which the brigade endured in february, . the brigade was pushed forward, was surrounded by a semi-circle of hills occupied by the enemy, who was in a position to snipe us. the position was intolerable, the losses were heavy, and nothing could be gained by keeping us on that line. but the th infantry division next to us reported to the army h.q.: "our blood runs cold at the thought of abandoning the position and having afterwards once more to attack the heights which have already cost us rivers of blood." i remained. matters, however, were so serious that one had to be in close touch with the men. i moved the field h.q. up to the position. count keller, in command of our section, having travelled for eleven hours in deep mud and over mountain paths, arrived at that moment, and rested for a while. "let us now drive up to the line." we laughed. "how shall we drive? would you come to the door, enemy machine-guns permitting?" count keller left fully determined to extricate the brigade from the trap. the brigade was melting away. in the rear there was only one ramshackle bridge across the san. we were in the hands of fate. will the torrent swell? if it does, the bridge will be swept away, and our retreat will be cut off. at this difficult moment the colonel in command of the th rifle regiment was severely wounded by a sniper as he was coming out of the house where the h.q. were stationed. all officers of his rank having been killed, there was nobody to replace him. i was pacing up and down the small hut, in a gloomy mood. markov rose. "give me the th regiment, sir," said markov. "of course, with pleasure." i had already thought of doing so. but i hesitated to offer it to markov lest he should think it was my intention to remove him from the staff. markov afterwards went with his regiment from one victory to another. he had already earned the cross of st. george and the sword of st. george, but for nine months the stavka would not confirm his appointment, because he had not reached the dead line of seniority. i recall the days of the heavy galician retreat, when a tidal wave of maddened peasants, with women, children, cattle and carts, was following the army, burning their villages and houses.... markov was in the rear, and was ordered promptly to blow up the bridge at which this human tide had stopped. he was, however, moved by the sufferings of the people, and for six hours he fought for the bridge at the risk of being cut off, until the last cart of the refugees had crossed the bridge. his life was a perpetual fiery impulse. on one occasion i had lost all hope of ever seeing him again. in the beginning of september, , in the course of the lutsk operation, in which our division so distinguished itself, between olyka and klevan, the left column commanded by markov broke the austrian line and disappeared. the austrians closed the line. during the day we heard no news, and the night came. i was anxious for the fate of the th regiment, and rode to a high slope, observing the enemy's firing line in the silent distance. suddenly, from afar, from the dense forest, in the far rear of the austrians, i heard the joyous strains of the regimental march of the th. what a relief it was! "i got into such a fix," said markov afterwards, "the devil himself could not have known which were my riflemen and which were austrians. i decided to cheer up my men and to collect them by making the band play." markov's column had smashed the enemy, had taken two thousand prisoners and a gun, and had put the austrians to disorderly flight towards lutsk. in his impulsiveness he sometimes went from one extreme to another, but, as soon as matters grew really desperate, he immediately regained self-possession. in october, , the th rifle division was conducting the famous chartoriisk operation, had broken the enemy on a front about twelve miles wide and over fifteen miles deep. brussilov, having no reserves, hesitated to bring up troops from another front in order to take advantage of this break. time was short. the germans centred their reserves, and they were attacking me on all sides. the situation was difficult. markov, from the front line, telephoned: "the position is peculiar. i am fighting the four quarters of the earth. it is so hard as to be thoroughly amusing." only once did i see him in a state of utter depression, when, in the spring of , near przemyshl, he was removing from the firing line the remnants of his companies. he was drenched with the blood of the c.o. of the th regiment, who had been standing by, and whose head had been torn off by a shell. markov never took any personal precautions. in september, , the division was fighting in the direction of kovel. on the right our cavalry was operating, was moving forward irresolutely, and was perturbing us by incredible news of the appearance of important enemy forces on its front, on our bank of the river styr. markov became annoyed with this indecision, and reported to me: "i went to the styr with my orderly to give the horses a drink. between our line and the styr there is no one, neither our cavalry nor the enemy." i reported him for promotion to general's rank, as a reward for several battles, but my request was not granted on the plea that he was "a youngster." verily youth was a great defect. in the spring of the division was feverishly preparing for the break-through at lutsk. markov made no secret of his innermost wish: "it is to be either one or the other--a wooden cross or the cross of st. george of the third degree." but the stavka, after several refusals, compelled him to accept "promotion"--once again the office of divisional chief-of-staff. (this measure was due to a great dearth of officers of the general staff, because the normal activities of the academy had come to an end. colonels and generals were made to hold for a second time and on special conditions the office of chief of divisional staff before they were appointed to divisional commands.) after several months on the caucasian front, where markov suffered from inaction, he lectured for some time at the academy, which had then reopened, and later returned to the army. at the outbreak of the revolution he was attached to the commanding officer of the tenth army as general for special missions. * * * * * in the beginning of march a mutiny broke out at briansk in the big garrison. it was attended by pogroms and by the arrest of officers. the townfolk were terribly excited. markov spoke several times in the crowded council of military deputies. after tempestuous and passionate debates, he succeeded in obtaining a resolution for restoring discipline and for freeing twenty of those arrested. nevertheless, after midnight several companies in arms moved to the railway station in order to do away with markov and with the arrested officers. the mob was infuriated and markov seemed to be doomed, but his resourcefulness saved the situation. trying to make his voice heard above the tumult, he addressed an impassioned appeal to the mob. the following sentence occurred in his speech: "had any of my 'iron' riflemen been here, he would have told you who general markov is." "i served in the th regiment," came a voice from the crowd. markov pushed aside several men who were surrounding him, advanced rapidly towards the soldier, and seized him by the scruff of the neck. "you? you? then why don't you thrust the bayonet into me? the enemy's bullet has spared me, so let me perish by the hand of my own rifleman...." the mob was still more intoxicated, but with admiration. accompanied by tempestuous cheering, markov and the arrested officers left for minsk. markov was lifted by the wave of events, and gave himself entirely to the struggle, without a thought for himself or for his family. faith and despair succeeded each other in his mind; he loved his country and felt sorry for the army, which never ceased to occupy a prominent place in his heart and in his mind. reference will be made more than once in the course of this narrative to the personality of markov, but i could not refrain from satisfying my heart's desire in adding a few laurels to his wreath--the wreath that was placed upon his tomb by two faithful friends, with the inscription:-- "he lived and died for the good of his country." chapter x. the power--the duma--the provisional government--the high command--the soviet of workmen's and soldiers' delegates. russia's exceptional position, confronted on the one hand with a world war and on the other with a revolution, made the establishment of a strong power an imperative necessity. the duma, which, as i have already said, unquestionably enjoyed the confidence of the country, refused, after lengthy and heated discussions, to head the revolutionary power. temporarily dissolved by the imperial ukaze of february th, it remained loyal, and "did not attempt to hold an official sitting," as it "considered itself a legislative institution of the old régime, co-ordinated by fundamental law with the obviously doomed remnants of autocracy." (miliukov, _history of the second russian revolution_.) the subsequent decrees emanated from the "private conference of the members of the duma." this body elected the "temporary committee of the duma," which exercised supreme power in the first days of the revolution. when power was transferred to the provisional government, the duma and the committee retired to the background, but did not cease to exist, and endeavoured to give moral support and a _raison d'être_ to the first three cabinets of the government. on may nd, during the first government crisis, the committee still struggled for the right to _appoint_ members of the government; subsequently it reduced its demands to that of the right to _participate_ in the formation of the government. thus, on july th, the committee of the duma protested against its exclusion from the formation of a new provisional government by kerensky, as it considered such a course as "legally inadmissible and politically disastrous." the duma, of course, was fully entitled to participate in the direction of the life of the country, as, even in the camp of its enemies, the signal service was recognised which the duma had rendered to the revolution "in converting to it the entire front and all the officers" (stankevitch: _reminiscences_). there can be no doubt that, had the soviet taken the lead in the revolution, there would have been a fierce struggle against it, and the revolution would have been squashed. it might, perhaps, have then given the victory to the liberal democracy, and would have led the country to a normal evolutionary development. who knows? the members of the duma themselves felt the strain of inactivity which was at first voluntary and later compulsory. there were many absentees, and the president of the duma had to combat this attitude. nevertheless, the duma and the committee were quite alive to the importance of the trend events were taking. they issued resolutions condemning, warning, and appealing to the common sense, the heart, and the patriotism of the people, of the army, and of the government. the duma, however, had already been swept aside by the revolutionary elements. its statesmanlike appeals, full of the clear consciousness of impending perils, had ceased to impress the country, and were ignored by the government. even a duma so peaceable that it did not even fight for power aroused the apprehensions of the revolutionary democracy, and the soviets led a violent campaign for the abolition of the council of the state and of the duma. in august the duma relaxed its efforts in issuing proclamations, and when kerensky dissolved the duma at the bidding of the soviets, nineteen days before the expiration of its five years' term, on october th, this news did not produce any appreciable effect in the country. rodzianko kept alive for a long time the idea of the fourth duma or of the assembly of all dumas as the foundation of the power of the state. he stuck to this idea throughout the kuban campaigns and the ekaterinodar volunteer period of the anti-bolshevik struggle. but the duma was dead.... none can tell whether the duma's abdication of power was inevitable in the days of march, and whether it was rendered imperative by the relative strength of the forces that struggled for power, whether the "class" duma could have retained the socialist elements in its midst and have continued to wield a certain influence in the country, acquired as a result of its fight against autocracy. it is at least certain that, in the years of trouble in russia, when no normal, popular representation was possible, all governments invariably felt the necessity for some substitute for this popular representation, were it only as a kind of tribune from which expression could be given to different currents of thought, a rock upon which to stand and to divine moral responsibilities. such was the "temporary council of the russian republic" at petrograd in october, , which, however, had been started by the revolutionary democracy, as a counter-blast to the contemplated bolshevik second congress of soviets. such was the partial constituent assembly of , which was held on the volga in the summer of , and such the proposed convocation of the high council and assembly (_sobor_) of the zemstvos in the south of russia and in siberia in . even the highest manifestation of collective dictatorship--"the soviet of people's commissars"--which reached a level of despotism and had suppressed social life and all the live forces of the country to an extent unknown in history, and reduced the country to a graveyard, still considered it necessary to create a kind of theatrical travesty of such a representative institution by periodically convoking the "all-russian congress of soviets." the authority of the provisional government contained the seed of its own impotence. as miliukov has said, that power was devoid of the "symbol" to which the masses were accustomed. the government yielded to the pressure of the soviet, which was systematically distorting all state functions and making them subservient to the interests of class and party. kerensky, the "hostage of democracy," was in the government. in a speech delivered in the soviet he thus defined his rôle: "i am the representative of democracy, and the provisional government should look upon me as expressing the demands of democracy, and should particularly heed the opinions which i may utter." last, but not least, there were in the government representatives of the russian liberal intelligencia, with all its good and bad qualities, and with the lack of will-power characteristic of that class, the will-power which, by its boundless daring, its cruelty in removing obstacles, and its tenacity in seizing power, gives victory in the struggle for self-preservation to class, caste and nationality. during the four years of the russian turmoil the russian intelligencia and bourgeoisie lived in a state of impotence and of non-resistance, and surrendered every stronghold; they even submitted to physical extermination and extinction. strong will-power appeared to exist only on the two extreme flanks of the social front. unfortunately it was a will to destroy and not to create. one flank has already produced lenin, bronstein, apfelbaum, uritzki, dzerjinski, and peters.... the other flank, defeated in march, , may not yet have said its last word. the russian revolution was undoubtedly national in its origin, being a mode of expressing the universal protest against the old régime. but, when the time came for reconstruction, two forces came into conflict which embodied and led two different currents of political thought, two different outlooks. according to the accepted phrase, it was a struggle between the bourgeoisie and the democracy. but it would be more correct to describe it as a struggle between the bourgeois and the socialist democracies. both sides derived their leading spirits from the same source--the russian intelligencia--by no means numerous and heterogeneous, not so much in respect of class and wealth as of political ideas and methods of political contest. both sides inadequately reflected the thoughts of the popular masses in whose name they spoke. at first these masses were merely an audience applauding the actors who most appealed to its impassioned, but not altogether idealistic, instincts. it was only after this psychological training that the inert masses, and in particular the army, became, in the words of kerensky, "an elemental mass melted in the fire of the revolution and ... exercising tremendous pressure which was felt by the entire organism of the state." to deny this would be tantamount to the denial, in accordance with tolstoi's doctrine, of the influence of leaders upon the life of the people. this theory has been completely shattered by bolshevism, which has conquered for a long time the masses of the people with whom it has nothing in common and who are inimical to the communist creed. in the first weeks of the new government the phenomenon became apparent, which was described in the middle of july by the committee of the duma in its appeal to the government in the following words: "the seizure of the power of the state by irresponsible organisations, the creation by these organisations of a dual power in the centre, and of the absence of power in the country." * * * * * the power of the soviet was also conditional in spite of a series of government crises and of opportunities thereby provided for seizing that power and wielding it without opposition and unreservedly (the provisional government offered no resistance). the revolutionary democracy, as represented by the soviet, categorically declined to assume that rôle because it realised quite clearly that it lacked the strength, the knowledge, and the skill to govern the country in which it had as yet no real support. tzeretelli, one of the leaders of revolutionary democracy, said: "the time is not yet ripe for the fulfilment of the ultimate aims of the proletariat and for the solution of class questions.... we understand that a bourgeois revolution is in progress ... as we are unable fully to attain to our bright ideal ... and we _do not wish to assume that responsibility for the collapse of the movement_, which we could not avoid if we made the desperate attempt to impose our will upon events at the present moment." another representative, nahamkes, said that they preferred "to compel the government to comply with their demands by means of perpetual organised pressure." a member of the executive committee of the soviet, stankevitch, thus describes the soviet in his _reminiscences_, which reflect the incorrigible idealism of a socialist who is off the rails and who has now reached the stage of excusing bolshevism, but who nevertheless impresses one as being sincere: "the soviet, a gathering of illiterate soldiers, took the lead because it asked nothing and because it was only a screen covering what was actually complete anarchy." two thousand soldiers from the rear and eight hundred workmen from petrograd formed an institution which pretended to guide the political, military, economic and social life of an enormous country. the records of the meetings of the soviet, as reported in the press, testify to the extraordinary ignorance and confusion which reigned at these meetings. one could not help being painfully impressed by such a "representation" of russia. an impotent and subdued anger against the soviet was growing in the circles of the intelligencia, the democratic bourgeoisie and the officers. all their hatred was concentrated upon the soviet, which they abused in terms of excessive bitterness. that hatred, often openly expressed, was wrongly interpreted by the revolutionary democracy as abhorrence of the very _idea of democratic representation_. in time the supremacy of the petrograd soviet, which ascribed to itself the exceptional merit of having destroyed the old régime, began to wane. a vast network of committees and soviets, which had flooded the country and the army, claimed the right to participate in the work of the state. in april, therefore, a congress was held of the delegates of workmen and soldiers' soviets. the petrograd soviet was reorganised on the basis of a more regular representation, and in june the all-russian congress of representatives of the soviets was opened. the composition of this fuller representation of democracy is interesting:-- revolutionary socialists social democrats (mensheviks) social democrats (bolsheviks) internationalists other socialists united social democrats members of the "bund" members of the "edimstvo" (unity) group popular socialists trudovik (labour) communist anarchists thus, the overwhelming masses of non-socialist russia were not represented at all; even the elements that were either non-political or belonged to the groups of the right and were elected by the soviets and army committees as non-party members, hastened for motives altogether in the interests of the state to profess the socialistic creed. in these circumstances the revolutionary democracy could hardly be expected to exercise self-restraint, and there could be no hope of keeping the popular movement within the limits of the bourgeois revolution. in reality the ramshackle helm was seized by a block of social revolutionaries and mensheviks, in which first the former and then the latter predominated. it is that narrow partisan block which held in bondage the will of the government and is primarily responsible for the subsequent course of the revolution. the composition of the soviet was heterogeneous: intellectuals, bourgeoisie, workmen, soldiers and many deserters. the soviet and the congresses, and especially the former, were a somewhat inert mass, utterly devoid of political education. action, power and influence afterwards passed therefore into the hands of executive committees in which the socialist intellectual elements were almost exclusively represented. the most devastating criticism of the executive committee of the soviet came from that very institution, and was made by one of its members, stankevitch: the meetings were chaotic, political disorganisation, indecision, haste, and fitfulness showed themselves in its decisions, and there was a complete absence of administrative experience and true democracy. one of the members advocated anarchy in the "izvestia," another sent written permits for the expropriation of the landlords, a third explained to a military delegation which had complained of the commanding officers that these officers should be dismissed and arrested, etc. "the most striking feature of the committee is the preponderance of the alien element," wrote stankevitch. "jews, georgians, letts, poles, and lithuanians were represented out of all proportion to their numbers in petrograd and in the country." russia during the turmoil. +----------+----------+-----------+-------+-----------+ | | | | | | anarcho-communists | non-party | non-party conservatives ######## | ----#### | -------- -------- | (peasants) | | workmen (few) | | | socialists liberals | -------- +-----------+-------------+ | | | | +--------------+ | non-party | | | | ----#### | constitutional- radical- | mostly workmen | -------- -------- | | democrats democrats social-democrats populists | | +--+---+----+ +---------------+-----------+ | | | | | | bolsheviks | edinstvo social popular labour ######## | -------- revolutionaries -------- -------- | | socialists "trudovik" mensheviks | | +------+-------+ +---+-----------+ | | | | | left centre right internationalists defencists #### ---### ---- ######## -------- -------- defencists ----#### partly defencist partly defeatist ######## defeatists the following is a list of the first presidium of the all-russian central committee of the soviets:-- georgian jews armenian pole russian (if his name was not an assumed one). this exceptional preponderance of the alien element, foreign to the russian national idea, could not fail to tinge the entire activities of the soviet with a spirit harmful to the interests of the russian state. the provisional government was the captive of the soviet from the very first day, as it had under-estimated the importance and the power of that institution, and was unable to display either determination or strength in resisting the soviet. the government did not even hope for victory in that struggle, as, in its endeavour to save the country, it could not very well proclaim watchwords which would have suited the licentious mob and which emanated from the soviet. the government talked about duty, the soviet about rights. the former "prohibited," the latter "permitted." the government was linked with the old power by the inheritance of statesmanship and organisation, as well as the external methods of administration; whereas the soviet, springing from mutiny and from the slums, was the direct negation of the entire old régime. it is a delusion to think, as a small portion of the moderate democracy still appear to do, that the soviet played the part of "restraining the tidal wave of the people." _the soviet did not actually destroy the russian state, but was shattering it, and did so to the extent of smashing the army and imposing bolshevism on it._ hence the duplicity and insincerity of its activities. apart from its declarations, all the speeches, conversations, comments, and articles of the soviet and of the executive committee, of its groups and individuals, came to the knowledge of the country and of the front, and tended towards the destruction of the authority of the government. stankevitch wrote that not deliberately, but persistently, the committee was dealing death-blows to the government. who, then, were the men who were trying to democratise the army regulations, smashing all the foundations of the army, inspiring the polivanov commission, and tying the hands of two war ministers? the following is the personnel elected in the beginning of april from the soldiers' section of the soviet to the executive committee:-- war-time officers clerks cadets soldiers from the rear scribes and men on special duty i will leave their description to stankevitch, who said: "at first hysterical, noisy, and unbalanced men were elected, who were utterly useless to the committee...." new elements were subsequently added. "the latter tried consciously, and in the measure of their ability, to cope with the ocean of military matters. two of them, however, seemed to have been inoffensive scribes in reserve battalions, who had never taken the slightest interest in the war, the army, or the political revolution." the duplicity and the insincerity of the soviet were clearly manifested in regard to the war. the intellectual circles of the left and of the revolutionary democracy mostly espoused the idea of zimmerwald and of internationalism. it was natural, therefore, that the first word which the soviet addressed on march , , "to the peoples of the whole world," was: "peace." the world problems, infinitely complex, owing to the national, political, and economic interests of the peoples who differed in their understanding of the eternal truth, could not be solved in such an elementary fashion. bethmann-holweg was contemptuously silent. on march th, , the reichstag, by a majority against the votes of both social democratic parties, declined the offer of peace without annexations. noske voiced the views of the german democracy in saying: "we are offered from abroad to organise a revolution. if we follow that advice the working classes will come to grief." among the allies and the allied democracies the soviet manifesto provoked anxiety, bewilderment, and discontent, which were vividly expressed in the speeches made by albert thomas, henderson, vandervelde, and even the present-day french bolshevik, cachin, upon their visits to russia. the soviet subsequently added to the word "peace" the definition, "without annexations and indemnities on the basis of the self-determination of peoples." the theory of this formula promptly clashed with the actual question of western and southern russia occupied by the germans; of poland, of roumania, belgium, and serbia, devastated by the germans; of alsace-lorraine and posen, as well as of the servitude, expropriations, and compulsory labour which had been imposed upon all the countries invaded by the germans. according to the programme of the german social democrats, which was at length published in stockholm, the french in alsace-lorraine, the poles in posen, and the danes in schleswig were only to be granted national autonomy under the sceptre of the german emperor. at the same time, the idea of the independence of finland, russian poland, and ireland was strongly advocated. the demand for the restoration of the german colonies was curiously blended with the promises of independence for india, siam, korea. the sun did not rise at the bidding of chanticleer. the _ballon d'essai_ failed. the soviet was forced to admit that "time is necessary in order that the peoples of all countries should rise, and with an iron hand compel their rulers and capitalists to make peace.... meanwhile, the comrade-soldiers who have sworn to defend russian liberties should not refuse to advance, as this may become a military necessity...." the revolutionary democracy was perplexed, and their attitude was clearly expressed in the words of tchkeidze: "we have been preaching against the war all the time. how can i appeal to the soldiers to continue the war and to stay at the front?" be that as it may, the words "war" and "advance" had been uttered. they divided the soviet socialists into two camps, the "defeatists" and "defensists."[ ] theoretically, only the right groups of the social revolutionaries, the popular socialists, the "unity" ("edistvo") group, and the labour party ("trudoviki") belonged to the latter. all other socialists advocated the immediate cessation of the war and the "deepening" of the revolution by means of internal class war. in practice, when the question of the continuation of the war was put to the vote, the defensists were joined by the majority of the social revolutionaries and of the social democrat mensheviks. the resolutions, however, bore the stamp of ambiguity--neither war nor peace. tzeretelli was advocating "a movement against the war in all countries, allied and enemy." the congress of the soviets at the end of may passed an equally ambiguous resolution, which, after demanding that annexations and indemnities should be renounced by all belligerents, pointed out that, "so long as the war lasts, the collapse of the army, the weakening of its spirit, strength and capacity for _active_ operations would constitute a strong menace to the cause of freedom and to the vital interests of the country." in the beginning of june the second congress passed a new resolution. on the one hand, it emphatically declared that "the question of the advance should be decided solely from the point of view of purely military and strategical considerations"; on the other hand, it expressed an obviously defeatist idea: "should the war end by the complete defeat of one of the belligerent groups, this would be a source of new wars, would increase the enmity between peoples, and would result in their complete exhaustion, in starvation and doom." the revolutionary democracy had obviously confused two ideas: the _strategic victory_ signifying the end of the war and _the terms of the peace treaty_, which might be humane or inhuman, righteous or unjust, far-seeing or short-sighted. in fact, what they wanted was war and an advance, but _without a victory_. curiously enough, the prussian deputy, strebel, the editor of _vorwaerts_, invented the same formula as early as in . he wrote: "i openly profess that a complete victory of the empire would not benefit the social democracy." there was not a single branch of administration with which the soviet and the executive committee did not interfere with the same ambiguity and insincerity, due on the one hand to the fear of any action contrary to the fundamentals of their doctrine, and on the other to the obvious impossibility of putting these doctrines into practice. the soviet did not, and could not, partake in the creative work of rebuilding the state. with regard to economics, agriculture, and labour, the activities of the soviet were reduced to the publication of pompous socialist party programmes, which the socialist ministers themselves clearly understood to be impracticable in the atmosphere of war, anarchy, and economic crisis prevailing in russia. nevertheless, these resolutions and proclamations were interpreted in the factories and in the villages as a kind of "absolution." they roused the passions and provoked the desire, immediately and arbitrarily, to put them into practice. this provocation was followed by restraining appeals. in an appeal addressed to the sailors of kronstadt on may th, , the soviet suggested "that they should demand immediate and implicit compliance with all the orders of the provisional government given in the interests of the revolution and of the security of the country...." all these literary achievements are not, however, the only form of activity in which the soviet indulged. the characteristic feature of the soviet and of the executive committee was the complete absence of discipline in their midst. with reference to the special delegation of the committee, whose object it was to be in contact with the provisional government, stankevitch says: "what could that delegation do? while it was arguing and reaching a complete agreement with the ministers, dozens of members of the committee were sending letters and publishing articles; travelling in the provinces, and at the front in the name of the committee; receiving callers at the taurida palace, everyone of them acting independently and taking no heed of instructions, resolutions, or decisions of the committee." was the central committee of the soviet invested with actual power? a reply to this question can be found in the appeal of the organising committee of the labour socialist democratic party of july th. "the watchword 'all-power to the soviets,' to which many workmen adhere, is a dangerous one. _the following of the soviets represents a minority in the population_, and we must make every effort in order that the bourgeois elements, who are still willing and capable of joining us in preserving the conquests of the revolution, shall share with us the burdens of the inheritance left by the old régime, which we have shouldered, and the enormous responsibility for the outcome of the revolution which we bear in the eyes of the people." the soviet, and later the all-russian central committee, could not, and would not, by reason of its composition and their political ideas, exercise a powerful restraining influence upon the masses of the people, who had thrown off the shackles and were perturbed and mutinous. the movement had been inspired by the members of the soviet, and the influence and authority of the soviet were, therefore, entirely dependent on the extent to which they were able to flatter the instincts of the masses. these masses, as karl kautsky, an observer from the marxist camp, has said, "were concerned merely with their requirements and their desires as soon as they were drawn into the revolution, and they did not care a straw whether their demands were practicable or beneficial to society." had the soviet endeavoured to resist with any firmness or determination whatsoever the pressure of the masses, it would have run the risk of being swept away. also, day after day and step by step, the soviet was coming under the influence of anarchist and bolshevik ideas. chapter xi. the bolshevik struggle for power--the power of the army and the idea of a dictatorship. in the first period--from the beginning of the revolution until the _coup d'état_ of november--the bolsheviks were engaged in struggling to seize power by destroying the bourgeois régime and disorganising the army, thus paving the way for the _avénement_ of bolshevism, as trotsky solemnly expressed it. on the day after his arrival in russia lenin published his programme, of which i will here mention the salient points: ( ) the war waged by the "capitalist government" is an imperialistic, plundering war. no concessions, therefore, should be made to revolutionary "defensism." the representatives of that doctrine and the army in the field should be made clearly to understand that the war cannot end in a truly democratic peace, without coercion, _unless_ capitalism is destroyed. the troops must fraternize with the enemy. ( ) the first stage of the revolution by which the bourgeoisie came into power must be followed by the second stage in which power must pass into the hands of the proletariat and of the poorest peasants. ( ) no support should be given to the provisional government, and the fallacy of its promises should be exposed. ( ) the fact must be acknowledged that, in the majority of the soviets, the bolshevik party is in a minority. the policy must therefore be continued of criticising and exposing mistakes, while at the same time advocating the necessity for the transfer of supreme power to the soviet. ( ) russia is not a parliamentary republic--that would have been a step backwards--but a republic of the soviets of workmen's and peasants' deputies. the police (militia?), the army, and the civil service must be abolished. ( ) with regard to the agrarian question, the soviets of farm-labourers' deputies must come to the fore. all landowners' estates must be confiscated, and all land in russia nationalised and placed at the disposal of local soviets of peasants' deputies. the latter to be elected among the poorest peasants. ( ) all the banks in the country must be united in one national bank, controlled by the soviet. ( ) socialism must not be introduced now, but a step must be taken towards the ultimate control by the soviet of all industries and of the distribution of materials. ( ) the state shall become a commune, and the socialist democratic bolshevik party shall henceforward be called "the communist party." i shall not dwell upon this programme, which was put into practice, with certain reservations, in november, . during the first period the activities of the bolsheviks, which are of great importance, were based upon the following three principles: ( ) the overthrow of the government and the demoralisation of the army. ( ) the promotion of class war in the country and discontent in the villages. ( ) the seizure of power by the minority, which, according to lenin, was to be "well-organised, armed and centralised," _i.e._, the bolshevik party. (this was, of course, a negation of democratic forms of government.) the ideas and aims of the party were, of course, beyond the understanding not only of the ignorant russian peasantry, but even of the bolshevik underlings scattered throughout the land. the masses wanted simple and clear watchwords to be immediately put into practice, which would satisfy their wishes and demands arising from the turmoil of the revolution. that "simplified" bolshevism inherent in all popular movements against the established power in russia was all the easier to institute in that it had freed itself from all restraining moral influences and was aiming primarily at destruction pure and simple, ignoring the consequences of military defeat and of the ruin of the country. the provisional government was the first target. in the bolshevik press, at public meetings, in all the activities of the soviets and congresses, and even in their conversations with the members of the provisional government, the bolshevik leaders stubbornly and arrogantly advocated its removal, describing it as an instrument of counter-revolution and of international reaction. the bolsheviks, however, refrained from decisive action, as they feared the political backwardness of the country as a whole. they began what soldiers call "a reconnaissance," and carried it out with great intensity. they seized several private houses in petrograd, and organised a demonstration on the th and st of april. that was the first "review" of the proletariat, at which an estimate was made of the bolshevik forces. the excuse for this demonstration, in which the workmen and the troops participated, was given by miliukov's note on international policy. i say _excuse_ because the real reason lay in the fundamental divergence of opinion mentioned above. everything else was only a pretext. as a result of the demonstration there were great disturbances and armed conflicts in the capital, and many casualties. the crowds carried placards bearing the inscriptions: "down with the miliukov policy of conquests," and "down with the provisional government." the review was a failure. in the course of the debate in the soviet on this occasion, the bolsheviks demanded that the government be deposed, but there was a note of hesitation in their speeches: "the proletariat should first discuss the existing conditions and form an estimate of its strength." the soviet passed a resolution condemning both the government's policy of conquest and the bolshevik demonstration, while at the same time "congratulating the revolutionary democracy of petrograd, which had proved its intense interest in international politics by meetings, resolutions and demonstrations." lenin was planning another armed demonstration on a large scale on june th during the congress of the soviets; but it was countermanded, as the great majority of the congress was opposed to it. the demonstration was likewise intended as a means of seizing power. this internal struggle between the two wings of the revolutionary democracy, which were bitterly antagonistic to one another, is extremely interesting. the left wing made every endeavour to induce the "defensist" block, which was preponderant, to break with the bourgeoisie and to assume power. the block was also resolutely opposed to such a course. within the soviets new combinations were coming into being. on certain questions the social revolutionaries of the left and the social democrats--internationalists--were leaning towards the bolsheviks. nevertheless, until september the bolsheviks were not in a majority in the petrograd soviet or in many provincial soviets. it was only on september th that bronstein trotsky succeeded tchkeidze as chairman of the petrograd soviet. the motto, "all power to the soviets," sounded from their lips like self-sacrifice or provocation. trotsky explained this contradiction by saying that, owing to constant re-elections, the soviets reflected the true (?) spirit of the masses of workmen and soldiers, who were leaning to the left, whereas, after the break with the bourgeoisie, extremist tendencies were bound to prevail in the soviets. as the true aspect of bolshevism gradually revealed itself these dissensions deepened, and were not limited to the social democratic programme or to party tactics. it was a struggle between democracy and the proletariat, between the majority and a minority, which was intellectually backward, but strong in its mutinous daring and headed by strong and unprincipled men. it was a struggle between the democratic principles of universal suffrage, political liberties, equality, etc., and the dictatorship of a privileged class, madness, and imminent slavery. on the nd july there was a second ministerial crisis, for which the outward cause was the disapproval of the liberal ministers of the act of ukrainian autonomy. on july rd- th the bolsheviks made another riot in the capital, in which workmen, soldiers and sailors participated. it was done this time on a large scale, and was accompanied by plunder and murder. there were many victims, and the government was in great difficulty. kerensky was at that time visiting us on the western front. his conversations with petrograd over the direct wire indicated that prince lvov and the government were deeply depressed. prince lvov summoned kerensky to return to petrograd at once, but warned him that he could not be responsible for his safety. the rebels demanded that the soviet and the central executive committee of the congress should assume power. these wings of the revolutionary democracy returned another categorical refusal. the movement found no support in the provinces, and the mutiny was quelled chiefly by the vladimir military school and the cossack regiments. several companies of the petrograd garrison likewise remained loyal. bronstein trotsky wrote that the movement was premature because there were too many passive and irresolute elements in the garrison; but that it had nevertheless been proved that, "except the cadets, no one wanted to fight against the bolsheviks _for the government and for the leading parties in the soviet_." the tragedy of the government headed by kerensky, and of the soviet, lay in the fact that the masses would not follow abstract watchwords. they proved equally indifferent to the country and to the revolution, as well as to the international, and had no intention of shedding their blood and sacrificing their lives for any of these ideas. the crowd followed those who gave practical promises and flattered its instincts. * * * * * when we speak of "power," with reference to the first period of the russian revolution, we actually mean only its outward forms; for under the exceptional conditions imposed by a world war on a scale unequalled in history, when per cent. of the entire male population was under arms, the power was really concentrated in the hands of the army. that army had been led astray, had been demoralised by false doctrines, had lost all sense of duty, and all fear of authority. last, but not least, it had no leader. the government, kerensky, the commanding corps, the soviet, regimental committees--for many reasons none of these could claim that title. the dissensions between all these contending forces were reflected in the minds of the men, and hastened the ruin of the army. it is useless to make any surmises which cannot be proved by realities, especially in the absence of historical perspective; but there can be no doubt the question, whether or not it would have been possible to erect a dam which would have stemmed the tide and preserved discipline in the army, will continue to arouse attention. personally, i believe that it was possible. at first the supreme command might have done it, as well as the government, had it shown sufficient resolve to squash the soviets or sufficient strength and wisdom to draw them into the orbit of statesmanship and of truly democratic constructive work. there can be no doubt that, in the beginning of the revolution, the government was recognised by all the sane elements of the population. the high command, the officers, many regiments, the bourgeoisie, and those democratic elements which had not been led astray by militant socialism adhered to the government. the press in those days was full of telegrams, addresses and appeals from all parts of russia, from various social, military and class organisations and institutions whose democratic attitude was undoubted. as the government weakened and was driven into two successive coalitions, that confidence correspondingly decreased and could not find compensation in fuller recognition by the revolutionary democracy; because anarchist tendencies, repudiating all authority, were gaining ground within these circles. in the beginning of may, after the armed rising in the streets of petrograd, which took place without the knowledge of the soviet, but with the participation of its members; after the resignation of miliukov and gutchkov, the complete impotence of the provisional government became so clearly apparent that prince lvov appealed to the soviet, with the consent of the duma committee and of the constitutional democratic party. he invited "the active creative forces of the country to participate directly in the government which had hitherto refrained from any such participation." after some hesitation, the soviet deemed it necessary to accept the offer, thereby assuming direct responsibility for the fate of the revolution. (four members of the soviet accepted ministerial posts.) the soviet declined to assume full power "because the transfer of power to the soviets in that period of the revolution would have weakened it and would have prematurely estranged the elements capable of serving it, which would constitute a menace to the revolution." the impression produced by such declarations upon the bourgeoisie and upon the "hostages" in the coalition government can be imagined. although the soviet expressed full confidence in the government and appealed to the democracy to grant it full support, which would guarantee the authority of the government, that government was already irretrievably discredited. the socialist circles which had sent their representatives to join it neither altered nor strengthened its intellectual level. on the contrary, it was weakened, inasmuch as the gulf was widened which separated the two political groups represented in the government. while officially expressing confidence in the government, the soviet continued to undermine its power and became somewhat lukewarm towards the socialist ministers, who had been compelled by circumstances to deviate, to a certain extent, from the programme of the socialist party. the people and the army did not pay much attention to these events, as they were beginning to forget that there was any power at all, owing to the fact that the existence of that power had no bearing upon their everyday life. the blood shed during the petrograd rising organised by the anarchist-bolshevik section of the soviet on july th- th, prince lvov's resignation, and the formation of a new coalition in which the socialists, nominated by the soviet, definitely predominated were but stepping stones towards the complete collapse of the power of the state. as i have already said, the first government crisis was occasioned by events which, however important politically, were only "excuses." in the new coalition the democratic bourgeoisie played but a secondary part, and its "temporary" assistance was only required in order that responsibility might be shared; while everything was decided behind the curtain, in the circles closely connected with the soviet. such a coalition could have no vitality and could not reconcile even the opportunist elements of the bourgeoisie with the revolutionary democracy. apart from political and social considerations, the relative strength of the forces which were brought into play was influenced by the growing discontent of the masses with the activities of the government owing to the general condition of the country. the masses accepted the revolution not as an arduous, transitory period, linked up with the past and present political development of russia and of the world, but as an independent reality of the day, carrying in its trail real calamities such as the war, banditism, lawlessness, stoppage of industry, cold and hunger. the masses were unable to grasp the situation in its complex entirety and could not differentiate between elemental, inevitable phenomena inherent in all revolutions and the will for good or evil of departments of the government, institutions or individuals. they felt that the situation was intolerable and tried to find a remedy. as a result of the universal recognition of the impotence of the existing power, a new idea began to occupy the minds of the people: a dictatorship. i emphatically declare that in the social and military circles with which i was in touch the tendency towards a dictatorship was prompted by a patriotic and clear consciousness of the abyss into which the russian people was rapidly sinking. _it was not in the slightest degree inspired by any reactionary or counter-revolutionary motives._ there can be no doubt that the movement found adherents among the reactionaries and among mere opportunists; but both these elements were accessory and insignificant. kerensky thus interpreted the rise of the movement which he described as "the tide of conspiracy": "the tarnopol defeat created a movement in favour of conspiracies, while the bolshevik rising of july demonstrated to the uninitiated the _depth of the disruption of democracy, the impotence of the revolution_ against anarchy, as well as the strength of the organised minority which acted spontaneously." it would be difficult to find a better excuse for the movement. in the atmosphere of popular discontent, universal disorder and approaching anarchy, endeavours at creating a dictatorship were the natural outcome of the existing conditions. these endeavours had their origin in a search for a _strong national and democratic power, but not a reactionary one_. on the whole the revolutionary democracy lived in an atmosphere poisoned by the fear of a counter-revolution. all its cares, measures, resolutions and appeals, as well as the disruption of the army and the abolition of the police in the villages, tended towards a struggle with this imaginary foe, which was supposed to menace the conquests of the revolution. were the conscious leaders of the soviet really convinced that such a danger existed, or were they fanning this unfounded fear as a tactical move? i am inclined to accept the second solution, because it was quite obvious, not only to myself, but to the soviet as well, that the activities of the democratic bourgeoisie meant not counter-revolution, but merely opposition. and yet in the russian partisan press and in wide circles outside russia it is precisely in the former sense that the pre-november period of the revolution was interpreted. the provisional government proclaimed a broad, democratic programme upon its formation. in the circles of the right this programme was criticised and there was discontent; but no active opposition. in the first four or five months after the beginning of the revolution there was not a single important counter-revolutionary organisation in the country. these organisations became more or less active and other secret circles, especially officers' circles, were formed in july in connection with the plans for a dictatorship. there can be no doubt that many people with pronounced tendencies towards a restoration joined these circles. but their main object was to combat the unofficial government, which was a class government, as well as the personnel of the soviet and the executive committee. had these circles not collapsed prematurely owing to their weakness, numerical insignificance and lack of organisation, some of the members of those institutions might very possibly have been destroyed. while constantly resisting counter-revolution from the right, the soviet gave every opportunity for the preparations for a real counter-revolution emanating from its own midst, from the bolsheviks. i remember that different persons who came to the stavka began to discuss the question of a dictatorship and to throw out feelers, as it were, approximately in the beginning of june. all these conversations were stereotyped to such an extent that i have no difficulty in summarising them. "russia is moving towards inevitable ruin. the government is utterly powerless. we must have a strong power. sooner or later we shall have to come to a dictatorship." nobody mentioned restoration or a change of policy in a reactionary direction. the names were mentioned of kornilov and brussilov. i warned them against hasty decisions. i must confess that we still entertained the illusory hope that the government--by internal evolution, under the influence of a new, armed demonstration on the part of the anti-national extremist elements towards which they were so lenient--would realise the futility and hopelessness of continuing in their present position and would come to the idea of power vested in one man, which might be achieved in a constitutional manner. the future seemed pregnant with disaster in the absence of a truly lawful power. i pointed out that there were no military leaders enjoying sufficient authority with the demoralised soldiery, but that if a military dictatorship should become necessary for the state and practicable, kornilov was already very much respected by the officers, whereas brussilov's reputation had been injured by his opportunism. in his book kerensky says that "cossack circles and certain politicians" had suggested repeatedly to him that the impotent government should be replaced by a personal dictatorship. it was only when society was disappointed in him as the "possible organiser and chief agent for altering the system of government" that "a search began for another individual." there can be no doubt that the men and social circles that appealed to kerensky in the question of a dictatorship were not his apologists and did not belong to the "revolutionary democracy," but the mere fact of their appeal is sufficient proof that their motives could not have been reactionary, and that it reflected the sincere desire of the russian patriotic elements to see a strong man at the helm in days of storm and strife. perhaps there may also have been another motive; there had been a short period, approximately in june, when not only the russian public, but also the officers had succumbed to the charm of the war minister's impassioned oratory and pathos. the russian officers, who were being sacrificed wholesale, had forgotten and forgiven and were desperately hoping that he would save the russian army. and their promise to die in the front line was by no means an empty one. during kerensky's visits to the front, it was a painful sight to see these doomed men, their eyes shining with exaltation, and their hearts beating with hope, a hope that was destined to be so bitterly and mercilessly disappointed. it is to be noted that kerensky, seeking in his book to justify the temporary "concentration of power" which he assumed on august th, says: "in the struggle against the conspiracy conducted by a single will, the state was compelled to set against it a will capable of resolute and quick action. no collective power, much less a coalition, can possess such a single will." i think that the internal condition of the russian state threatened with a monstrous joint conspiracy of the german general staff and the anti-national and anti-constitutional elements of the russian exiles was sufficiently grave to warrant the demand for a strong power "capable of resolute and quick action." chapter xii. the activities of the provisional government--internal politics, civil administration--the town, the village and the agrarian problem. i will deal in this and in the subsequent chapters with the internal condition of russia in the first period of the revolution only in so far as it affected the conduct of the world war. i have already mentioned the duality of the supreme administration of the country and the incessant pressure of the soviet upon the provisional government. a member of the duma, mr. shulgin, wittily remarked: "the old régime is interned in the fortress of peter and paul, and the new one is under domiciliary arrest." the provisional government did not represent the people as a whole; it could not and would not forestall the will of the constituent assembly by introducing reforms which would shake the political and social structure of the state to its very foundations. it proclaimed that "not violence and compulsion, but the voluntary obedience of free citizens to the power which they had themselves created, constituted the foundation of the new administration of the state. not a single drop of blood has been shed by the provisional government which has erected no barrier against the free expression of public opinion...." this non-resistance to evil at the moment when a fierce struggle, unfettered by moral or patriotic considerations, was being conducted by some groups of the population for motives of self-preservation and by others for the attainment by violence of extreme demands, was undoubtedly a confession of impotence. in the subsequent declarations of the second and third coalition governments mention was made "of stringent measures" against the forces of disorganisation in the country. these words, however, were never translated into deeds. the idea of not forestalling the will of the constituent assembly was not carried out by the government, especially in the domain of national self-determination. the government proclaimed the independence of poland, but made "the consent to such alterations of the territory of the russian state as may be necessary for the creation of independent poland" dependent upon the all-russian constituent assembly. that proclamation, the legal validity of which is contestable, was, however, in full accord with the juridical standpoint of society. with regard to finland, the government did not alter her legal status towards russia, but confirmed the rights and privileges of the country, cancelled all the limitations of the finnish constitution and intended to convoke the finnish chamber ("seim") that was to confirm the new constitution of the principality. the government subsequently adhered to their intention to entertain favourably all the just demands of the finns for local reconstruction. nevertheless, both the provisional government and finland were engaged in a protracted struggle for power on account of the universal desire for the immediate satisfaction of the interests of the separate nationalities. on july th the finnish assembly passed a law (by the majority of social-democratic votes) proclaiming the assumption by that body of supreme power after the abdication "of the finnish grand-duke" (the official title of the russian emperor). only foreign affairs, military legislation and administration were left to the provisional government. this decision corresponded to a certain degree with the resolution of the congress of soviets, which demanded that full independence should be granted to finland before the convocation of the constituent assembly, with the above-mentioned restrictions. the russian government answered this declaration of the actual independence of finland by dissolving the assembly, which met, however, once again in september of its own free will. in this struggle, the intensity of which varied according to the rise and fall of the political barometer in petrograd, the finnish politicians, disregarding the interests of the state and having no support whatsoever in the army, counted exclusively upon the loyalty or, to be more correct, the weakness of the provisional government. matters never reached the stage of open rebellion. the conscious elements of the population kept the country within the limits of reasonableness, not out of loyalty, but perhaps because they feared the consequences of civil war and especially of the sabotage in which the licentious soldiers and sailors would have presumably indulged. may and june were spent in a struggle for power between the government and the self-appointed central rada (assembly). the all-ukrainian military congress, also convened arbitrarily on june th, demanded that the government should immediately comply with all the demands of the central rada and the congresses, and suggested that the rada should cease to address the government, but should begin at once to organise the autonomous administration of the ukraine. on june th the autonomous constitution of the ukraine was adopted and a secretariat (council of ministers) formed under the chairmanship of mr. vinnichenko. after the government envoys--the ministers kerensky, tereschenko and tzeretelli--had negotiated with the rada, a proclamation was issued on july nd, which forestalled the decision of the constituent assembly and proclaimed the autonomy of the ukraine with certain restrictions. the central rada and the secretariat were gradually seizing the administration, creating a dual power on the spot and discrediting the all-russian government. they thus provoked civil strife and provided moral excuses for every endeavor to shirk civic and military duties to the common mother country. the central rada, moreover, contained from the outset sympathisers with germany and was undoubtedly connected through the "union for the liberation of the ukraine" with the headquarters of the central powers. bearing in mind the ample material collected by the stavka, vinnichenko's half-hearted confession to a french correspondent (?) with regard to germanophil tendencies in the rada, and finally the report of the procurator of the kiev court of appeal at the end of august, , i cannot doubt that the rada played a criminal part. the procurator complained that the complete destruction of the machinery of intelligence and of criminal investigation deprived the government prosecutors of the possibility of investigating the situation; he said that not only german espionage and propaganda, but the mutinies of the ukrainian troops, as well as the destination of obscure funds of undoubted austro-german origin ... could be traced to the rada. * * * * * the ministry of the interior, which, in the old days, practically controlled the autocracy and provoked universal hatred, now went to the other extreme. it all but abolished itself, and the functions of that branch of the administration were divided among local, self-appointed organisations. the history of the organs of the ministry of the interior is, in many ways, similar to the fate of the supreme command. on march th the minister-president issued an order for the suppression of the offices of governor and of inspector of police ("ispravnik"), which were to be replaced by the presidents of the provincial and district self-governing councils ("oupravas"), and for the police to be replaced by a militia organised by social institutions. this measure, adopted owing to the universal dislike for the agents of the old régime, was, in fact, the only actual manifestation of the government's will; because the status of the commissars was not established by law until the month of september. the instructions and orders of the government were, on the whole, of an academic nature, because life followed its own course, and was regulated, or, to be more correct, muddled up, by local revolutionary changes of the law. the office of government commissars became a sinecure from the very outset. they had no power or authority, and became entirely dependent upon revolutionary organisations. when the latter passed a vote of censure upon the activities of a commissar, he could practically do nothing more. the organisations elected a new one, and his confirmation in office by the provisional government was a mere formality. in the first six weeks seventeen provincial commissars and a great many district commissars were thus removed. later, in july, tzeretelli, during his tenure of the office of minister of the interior, which lasted for a fortnight, gave official sanction to this procedure and sent a circular to the local soviets and committees, inviting them to send in to him the names of desirable candidates, which were to replace the unsuitable ones. thus there remained no representatives of the central power on the spot. in the beginning of the revolution the so-called "social committees" or "soviets of social organisation" really represented a social institution comprising the union of towns and _zemstvos_, of municipal dumas, professional unions, co-operatives, magistrates, etc. things went from bad to worse when these social committees were dissolved into class and party organisations. local power passed into the hands of the soviets of workmen and soldiers and in places before the law had been produced to "democratised" socialistic dumas, closely reminiscent of semi-bolshevik soviets. the regulations issued by the government on april th, on the organisation of municipal self-government, comprised the following main points: ( ) all citizens of both sexes, having attained the age of twenty, were given the suffrage in the town. ( ) no domiciliary qualification was established. ( ) a proportional system of elections was introduced. ( ) the military were given the suffrage in the localities in which the respective garrisons were quartered. i will not examine in detail these regulations, which are probably the most democratic ever known in municipal law, because the experience gained in their application was too short to afford any ground for discussion. i will only note one phenomenon which accompanied the introduction of these regulations in the autumn of . the free vote in many places became a mockery. throughout the length and breadth of russia, all the non-socialist and politically neutral parties were under suspicion and were subjected to persecution. they were not allowed to conduct propaganda, and their meetings were dispersed. electioneering was characterised by blatant abuses. occasionally election agents were subjected to violence and lists of candidates destroyed. at the same time the licentious and demoralised soldiery of many garrisons--chance guests in the town in which, as often as not, they had only appeared a day or two before--rushed to the polls and presented lists drawn up by the extreme anti-national parties. there were cases when military units, arriving after the elections, demanded a re-election and accompanied this demand by threats and sometimes murders. there can be no doubt that, among the circumstances that affected the august elections in petrograd to the municipal duma, to which sixty-seven bolsheviks out of two hundred were elected, the presence in the capital of numerous demoralised garrisons was not the least important. the authorities were silent because they were absent. the _petite bourgeoisie_, the intellectual workers, in a word, the town democracy in the widest sense, was the weakest party and was always defeated in that revolutionary struggle. the mutinies, rebellions, and separations of various republics--the precursors of the bloody soviet régime--had the most painful effect on the life of that portion of the community. the "self-determination" of the soldiers caused uneasiness and even fear of unrestricted violence. even travelling was unsafe and difficult, because the railways fell into the hands of deserters. the "self-determination" of the workmen resulted in the impossibility of obtaining supplies of the most necessary commodities, owing to a tremendous rise in prices. the "self-determination" of the villages produced a stoppage of supplies, and the villages were thus left to starve; not to mention the moral ordeal of the class which was subjected to insults and degradation. the revolution had raised hopes for the betterment of the conditions of life for everyone except the _bourgeois_ democracy, because even the moral conquests proclaimed by the new revolutionary power--liberty of speech, of the press and of meetings, etc.--soon belonged exclusively to the revolutionary democracy. the upper _bourgeoisie_ (intellectually superior) was organised to a certain extent by means of the constitutional democratic party, but the _petite bourgeoisie_ (the _bourgeois_ democracy) had no organisation whatsoever and no means for an organised struggle. the democratic municipalities were losing their true democratic aspect--not as a result of the new municipal law, but of revolutionary practice--and became mere class organs of the proletariat, or the representatives of purely socialistic parties, completely out of touch with the people. self-government in the districts and in the villages in the first period of the revolution was of more or less the same nature. towards the autumn there should have been a democratic system of _zemstvo_ administration, on the same basis as that in the municipalities. the district (volost) _zemstvo_ was to undertake the administration of local agriculture, education, order and safety. as a matter of fact, the villages were administered--if such a word can be applied to anarchy--by a complex agglomeration of revolutionary organisations, such as peasant congresses, supply and land committees, popular soviets, village councils, etc. very often another peculiar organisation--that of the deserters--dominated them all. at any rate, the all-russian union of peasants agreed with the following declaration made by the left wing: "all our work for the organisation of various committees will be of no avail if these social organisations are to remain under the constant threat of being terrorised by accidental armed bands." the only question that deeply perturbed the minds of the peasantry and overshadowed all other events, was the old, painful, traditional question: the question of the land. it was an exceptionally complex and tangled question. it arose more than once in the shape of fruitless mutinies, which were ruthlessly suppressed. the wave of agrarian troubles which swept over russia in the years of the first revolution ( - ) and left a trail of fire and ruined estates was an indication of the consequences that were bound to follow the revolution of . it is difficult to form an exhaustive idea of the motives which prompted the land-owners to defend their rights so stubbornly and so energetically: was it atavism, a natural yearning for the land, statesmanlike considerations as to the desirability of increasing the productivity of the land by introducing higher methods of agriculture, a desire to maintain a direct influence over the people, or was it merely selfishness?... one thing is certain--the agrarian reforms were overdue. retribution could not fail to overtake the government and the ruling classes for the long years of poverty, oppression, and, what is most important, the incredible moral and intellectual darkness in which the peasant masses were kept, their education being entirely neglected. the peasants demanded that all land should be surrendered to them, and would not wait for the decision of the central land committee or of the constituent assembly. this impatience was undoubtedly due, to a great extent, to the weakness of the government and to outside influences, which will be described later. there was no divergence of opinion as to the fundamental idea of the reforms. the liberal democracy and the _bourgeoisie_, the revolutionary democracy and the provisional government, all spoke quite definitely about "handing the land over to the workers." with the same unanimity these elements favoured the idea of leaving the final decision on the reform of the land and legislation on the subject to the constituent assembly. this irreconcilable divergence of opinion arose by reason of the very essence of land reform. liberal circles in russia stood for the private ownership of the land--an idea which found increasing favour with the peasants--and demanded that the peasants should receive allotments rather than that the land should be entirely redistributed. on the other hand, the revolutionary democracy advocated, at all meetings of every party, class and profession, the adoption of the resolution of the all-russian congress of peasants, which was passed on may th, with the approval of the minister tchernov on "the transfer of all lands ... _to the people as a whole, as their patrimony, on the basis of equal possession without any payment_." the peasants did not or would not understand this social revolutionary resolution, which caused dissensions. the peasants were private owners by nature and could not understand the principle of nationalisation. the principle of equal possession meant that many millions of peasants, whose allotments were larger than the normal, would lose their surplus allotments, and the whole question of the redistribution of the land would lead to endless civil war; because there were innumerable peasants who had no land at all, and only , , dessiatines of arable land which did not belong to the peasants to divide among , , peasant households. the provisional government did not consider itself entitled to solve the land problem. under the pressure of the masses, it transferred its rights partly to the ministry of agriculture, partly to the central land committee, which was organised on the basis of broad, democratic representation. the latter was entrusted with the task of collecting data and of drawing up a scheme of land reform, as well as of regulating the existing conditions with regard to the land. in practice, the use of the land transfer, rent, employment of labour, etc., were dealt with by the local land committees. these bodies contained illiterate elements--the intellectuals as a rule were excluded--which had selfish motives and had no perception either of the extent or of the limits of their powers. the central representative institutions and the ministry of agriculture, under tchernov, issued appeals against arbitrariness and for the preservation of the land, pending the decision of the constituent assembly. at the same time they overtly encouraged "temporary possession of the land," as seizure of the land was then described, on the excuse that the government were obliged to sell as much land as possible. the propaganda that was conducted on a large scale in the villages by irresponsible representatives of socialist and anarchist circles completed tchernov's work. the results of this policy were soon apparent. in one of his circulars to provincial commissars, the minister of the interior, tzeretelli, admitted that complete anarchy reigned in the villages: "land is being seized and sold, agricultural labourers are forced to stop working, and landowners are faced with demands which are economically impossible. breeding stock is being destroyed and implements plundered. model farms are being ruined. forests are being cut down irrespective of ownership, timber and logs are being stolen, and their shipment prevented. no sowing is done on privately-owned farms, and harvests of grain and hay are not reaped." the minister accused the local committees and the peasant congresses of organising arbitrary seizures of the land, and came to the conclusion that the existing conditions of agriculture and forestry "would inevitably bring about endless calamities for the army and the country, and threatened the very existence of the state." if we recall the fires, the murders, the lynchings, the destruction of estates, which were often filled with treasures of great historical and artistic value, we shall have a true picture of the life of the villages in those days. the question of the ownership of the land by the landlords was thus not merely a matter of selfish class interest, all the more as, not only the landlords but the wealthy peasants were subjected to violence by order of the committees, and in spite of them. one village rose against another. it was not a question of the transfer of riches from one class or individual to another, but of the destruction of treasures, of agriculture, and of the economic stability of the state. the instincts of proprietorship inherent in the peasantry irresistibly grew as these seizures and partitions took place. the mental attitude of the peasantry upset all the plans of the revolutionary democracy. by converting the peasants into a _petite bourgeoisie_, it threatened to postpone to an indefinite date the triumph of socialism. the villagers were obsessed by the idea of land distribution and by their own interests, and were not in the least concerned with the war, with politics, or with social questions which did not directly affect them. the workers of the village were being killed and maimed at the front, and the village, therefore, considered the war as a burden. the authorities disallowed seizures of the land and imposed restrictions in the shape of monopolies and fixed prices for corn. the peasantry, therefore, bore a grudge against the government. the towns ceased to supply manufactured goods and the villages were estranged from the towns and ceased to supply them with grain. this was the only real "conquest" made by the revolution, and those who profited by it grew very anxious as to the attitude of future governments towards the arbitrary solution of the land question. they therefore actively encouraged anarchy in the villages, condoned seizures and undermined the authority of the provisional government. by this means they hoped to bring the peasants over to their side as supporters, or, at least, as a neutral element, in the impending decisive struggle for power. * * * * * the abolition of the police by the order issued on april th was one of the acts of the government which seriously complicated the normal course of life. in reality, this act only confirmed the conditions which had arisen almost everywhere in the first days of the revolution, and were directly due to the wrath of the people against the executive of the old regime, and especially of those who had been oppressed and persecuted by the police and had suddenly found themselves on the crest of the wave. it would be a hopeless task to defend the russian police as an institution. it could only be considered good by comparing it with the militia and with the extraordinary bolshevik commission.... in any case it would have been useless to resist the abolition of the police, because it was a psychological necessity. there can be no doubt that the attitude and actions of the old police were due less to their political opinions than to the instructions of their employers and to their own personal interests. no wonder, therefore, that the gendarmes and the policemen, insulted and persecuted, introduced a very bad element into the army, into which they were subsequently forcibly drafted. the revolutionary democracy, in self defence, grossly exaggerated their counter-revolutionary activities in the army; nevertheless, it is absolutely true that a great many ex-officers of the police and of the gendarmerie, partly, perhaps, from motives of self-defence, chose for themselves a most lucrative profession--that of the demagogue and the agitator. the fact is that the abolition of the police in the very midst of the turmoil--when crime was on the increase and the guarantees of public safety and of the safety of individual property were weakened--was a real calamity. the militia, indeed, far from being a substitute for the police, was a caricature of them. in western countries the police is placed as a united force under the orders of a department of the central government. the provisional government placed the militia under the orders of _zemstvo_ and municipal administrations. the government commissars were only entitled to make use of the militia for certain definite purposes. the cadres of the militia were filled by untrained men, devoid of technical experience, and, as often as not, criminals. by virtue of the new law, there were admitted to the militia persons under arrest or who had served a term of imprisonment for comparatively grave offences. the system of recruiting practised by some forcibly "democratised" _zemstvo_ and municipal institutions tended quite as much as the new law towards the deterioration of the personnel of the militia. the chief of the central administration of the militia himself admitted that escaped convicts were sometimes placed in command of the militia. the villages were sometimes without any militia at all, and they administered themselves as best they could. in its proclamation of april th the provisional government gave an accurate description of the condition of the country in stating that "the growth of new social ties was slower than the process of disruption caused by the collapse of the old régime." in every feature of the life of the people this fact was clearly to be observed. chapter xiii. the activities of the provisional government: food supplies, industry, transport and finance. in the early spring of the deficiency in supplies for the army and for the towns was rapidly growing. in one of its appeals to the peasants the soviet said: "the enemies of freedom, the supporters of the deposed czar, are taking advantage of the shortage of food in the towns _for which they are themselves responsible_ in order to undermine your freedom and ours. they say that the revolution has left the country without bread...." this simple explanation, adduced by the revolutionary democracy in every crisis, was, of course, one-sided. there was the inheritance of the old régime as well as the inevitable consequences of three years of war, during which imports of agricultural implements had come to a standstill, labourers were taken from the land, and, as a result, the area under crops was diminished. but these were not the only reasons for the food shortage in a fertile country--a shortage which in the autumn was considered by the government as disastrous. the food policy of the government and the fluctuation of prices, the depreciation of the currency and a rise in the price of commodities entirely out of proportion to the fixed prices for grain also largely contributed to this result. this rise in prices was due to general economic conditions, and especially to a very rapid rise in wages; to the agrarian policy of the government, the inadequacy of the area under crops, to the turmoil in the villages, and to the breakdown of transport. private trade was abolished and the entire matter of food supplies was handed over to food supply committees--undoubtedly democratic in character, but, with the exception of the representatives of the co-operatives, inexperienced and devoid of a creative spirit. there are many more reasons, great and small, which may be included in the formula: the old régime, the war and the revolution. on march th the provisional government introduced the grain monopoly. the entire surplus of grain, excluding normal supplies, seed corn and fodder, reverted to the state. at the same time the government once again raised the fixed price of grain, and promised to introduce fixed prices for all necessary commodities, such as iron, textiles, leather, kerosine oil, etc. this last measure, which was universally recognised as just, and to which the minister of supplies attributed a very great importance, proved impossible of application owing to the confused condition of the country. russia was covered by a huge network of food supply institutions, which cost , , roubles a year, but could not cope with their work. the villages, on the other hand, had ceased to pay taxes and rents, were flooded with paper money, for which they could get no equivalent in manufactured goods, and were by no means anxious to supply grain. propaganda and appeals were of no avail, and, as often as not, force had to be applied. in its proclamation of august th the government admitted that the country was in a desperate position; the government stores were emptying; towns, provinces, and armies at the front were in dire need of bread, _although, in fact, there was sufficient bread in the country_. some had not delivered last year's harvest; some were agitating and preventing others from doing their duty. in order to avert grave danger, the government once more raised the fixed prices and threatened to apply stringent measures against the offenders, and to regulate prices and the distribution of articles required by the villages. but the vicious circle of conflicting political, social and class interests was narrowing, like to a tight noose, round the neck of the government, paralysing its will-power and energy. * * * * * the condition of industry was no less acute, and it was steadily falling into ruin. here, as in the matter of supplies, the calamity cannot be ascribed to one set of causes, as happened when the employers and the workmen levelled accusations against one another. the former were charged with taking excessive profits and having recourse to sabotage in order to upset the revolution, while the latter were blamed for slackness and greed and for deriving selfish gains from the revolution. the causes may be divided into three categories. owing to various political and economic reasons and to the fact that the old government did not devote sufficient attention to the development of the natural resources of the country, our industries were not placed on a solid basis, and were to a great extent dependent upon foreign markets even for such material as might easily have been found in russia. thus in there was a serious shortage of pig-iron, and in of fuel. from to imports of metals from abroad rose from to per cent. before the war we imported per cent. of cotton. we needed , , pouds[ ] of wool from abroad out of a total of the , , pouds produced. the war unquestionably affected industry very deeply. normal imports came to a standstill. the mines of dombrovsk were lost. owing to strategical requirements, transport was weakened, supplies of fuel and of raw materials diminished. most of the factories had to work for the army, and their personnel was curtailed by mobilisations. from an economic point of view, the militarisation of industry was a heavy burden for the population, because, according to the estimates made by one of the ministers, the army absorbed to per cent. of the total of goods produced by the country. finally, the war widened the gulf between the employers and the workmen, as the former made immense profits, whereas the latter were impoverished, and their condition was further aggravated by the suspension of certain professional guarantees on account of the war by the fact that certain categories of workmen were drafted by conscription to definite industrial concerns, and by the general burden of inflated prices and inadequate food supplies. even in these abnormal circumstances russian industries to some extent fulfilled the requirements of the moment, but the revolution dealt them a death blow, which caused their gradual dislocation and ultimate collapse. on the one hand, the provisional government was legislating for the establishment of a strict government control of the industries of the country and for regulating them by heavily taxing profits and excess war profits, as well as by government distribution of fuel, raw materials and food. the latter measure caused the trading class to be practically eliminated and to be replaced by democratic organisations. whether excess profits disappeared as a result of this policy, or were merely transferred to another class, it is not easy to decide. on the other hand, the government were deeply concerned with the protection of labour, and were drafting and passing various laws concerning the freedom of unions, labour exchanges, conciliation boards, social insurance, etc. unfortunately, the impatience and the desire for "law-making" which had seized the villages were also apparent in the factories. heads of industrial concerns were dismissed wholesale, as well as the administrative and technical staffs. these dismissals were accompanied by insults and sometimes by violence, out of revenge for past offences, real or imaginary. some of the members of the staffs resigned of their own accord, because they were unable to endure the humiliating position into which they were forced by the workmen. given our low level of technical and educational standards, such methods were fraught with grave danger. as in the army, so in the factories, committees replaced by elections the dismissed personnel with utterly untrained and ignorant men. sometimes the workmen completely seized the industrial concerns. ignorant and unprovided with capital, they led these concerns to ruin, and were themselves driven to unemployment and misery. labour discipline in the factories completely vanished, and no means was left of exercising moral, material or judicial pressure or compulsion. the "consciousness" alone of the workers proved inadequate. the technical and administrative personnel which remained or was newly elected could no longer direct the industries and enjoyed no authority, as it was thoroughly terrorised by the workmen. naturally, therefore, the working hours were still further curtailed, work became careless, and production fell to its lowest ebb. the metallurgical industries of moscow fell per cent. and the productivity of the petrograd factories to per cent. as early as in the month of april. in june the production of coal and the general production of the donetz basin fell per cent. the production of oil in baku and grozni also suffered. the greatest injury, however, was inflicted upon the industries by the monstrous demands for higher wages, completely out of proportion to the cost of living and to the productivity of labour, as well as to the actual paying capacity of the industries. these demands greatly exceeded all excess profits. the following figures are quoted in a report to the provisional government: in eighteen concerns in the donetz basin, with a total profit of , , roubles per annum, the workmen demanded a wage increase of , , roubles per annum; the total amount of increased wages in all the mining and metallurgical factories of the south was , , roubles per annum. in the urals the total budget was , , , while the wages rose to , , . in the putilov factory alone, in petrograd, before the end of , the increase in wages amounted to , , roubles. the wages rose from to per cent. the increase in the wages of the textile workers of moscow rose per cent., as compared to . the burden of these increases naturally fell on the government, as most of the factories were working for the defence of the country. owing to the condition of industry described above, and to the psychology of the workmen, industrial concerns collapsed, and the country experienced an acute shortage of necessary commodities, with a corresponding increase in prices. hence the rise in the price of bread and the reluctance of the villages to supply the towns. at the same time bolshevism introduced a permanent ferment into the labouring masses. it flattered the lowest instincts, fanned hatred against the wealthy classes, encouraged excessive demands, and paralysed every endeavour of the government and of the moderate democratic organisations to arrest the disruption of industry: "all for the proletariat and through the proletariat...." bolshevism held up to the working class vivid and entrancing vistas of political domination and economic prosperity, through the destruction of the capitalist régime and the transfer to the workmen of political power, of industries, of the means of production, and of the wealth of the country. and all this was to come at once, immediately, and not as a result of a lengthy, social, economic process and organised struggle. the imagination of the masses, unfettered by knowledge or by the authority of leading professional unions, which were morally undermined by the bolsheviks, and were on the verge of collapse, was fired by visions of avenging the hardships and boredom of heavy toil in the past, and of enjoying amenities of a _bourgeois_ existence, which they despised and yet yearned for with equal ardour. it was "now or never: all or nothing!" as life was destroying illusions, and the implacable law of economics was meting out the punishment of high prices, hunger and unemployment, bolshevism was the more convincingly insisting upon the necessity of rebellion and explaining the causes of the calamity and the means of averting it. the causes were: the policy of the provisional government, which was trying to reintroduce enslavement by the bourgeoisie, the sabotage of the employers, and the connivance of the revolutionary democracy, including the mensheviks, which had sold itself to the bourgeoisie. the means was the transfer of power to the proletariat. all these circumstances were gradually killing russian industry. in spite of all these disturbances, the dislocation of industry was not immediately felt in the army to an appreciable degree, because attention was concentrated upon the army at the expense of the vital necessities of the country itself, and also because for several months there had been a lull at the front. in june, , therefore, we were provided adequately, if not amply, for an important offensive. imports of war material through archangel, murmansk, and partly through vladivostok had increased, but had not been sufficiently developed by reason of the natural shortcomings of maritime routes, and of the low carrying capacity of the siberian and of the murmansk railways. only per cent. of the actual needs of the army were satisfied. the military administration, however, clearly saw that we were living on the old stores collected by the patriotic impulse and effort of the country in . by august, , the most important factories for the production of war materials had suffered a check. the production of guns and of shells had fallen per cent., and of aircraft per cent. the possibility of continuing the war under worse material conditions was, however, amply proved later by the soviet government, which had been using the supplies available in and the remnants of russian industrial production for the conduct of civil war for more than three years. this, of course, was only possible through such an unexampled curtailment of the consuming market that we are practically driven back to primitive conditions of life. * * * * * transport was likewise in a state of dislocation. as early as may, , at the regular congress of railway representatives at the stavka, the opinion was expressed, and confirmed by many specialists, that, unless the general conditions of the country changed, our railways would come to a standstill within six months. practice has disproved theory. for over three years, under the impossible conditions of civil war and of the bolshevik régime, the railways have continued to work. it is true that they did not satisfy the needs of the population even in a small measure, but they served the strategical purposes. that this situation cannot last, and that the entire network of the russian railways is approaching its doom, is hardly open to doubt. in the history of the disintegration of the russian railway system the same conditions are traceable which i have mentioned in regard to the army, the villages, and especially the industries: the inheritance of the unwise policy of the past in regard to railways, the excessive demands of the war, the wear and tear of rolling stock, and anarchy on the line, due to the behaviour of a licentious soldiery; the general economic condition of the country, the shortage of rails, of metal and of fuel; the "democratisation" of railway administration, in which the power was seized by various committees; the disorganisation of the administrative and technical personnel, which was subjected to persecution; the low producing power of labour and the steady growth of the economic demands of the railway employees and workmen. in other branches of the administration the government offered a certain resistance to the systematic seizure of power by private organisations, but in the ministry of railways that pernicious system was introduced by the government itself, in the person of the minister nekrassov. he was the friend and the inspirer of kerensky, alternately minister of railways and of finance, assistant and vice-president of the council of ministers, governor-general of finland, octobrist, cadet (constitutional democrat), and radical democrat, holding the scales between the government and the soviet. nekrassov was the darkest and the most fatal figure in the governing circles, and left the stamp of destruction upon everything he touched--the all-russian executive committee of the union of railways, the autonomy of the ukraine, or the kornilov movement. the ministry had no economic or technical plan. as a matter of fact, no such plan could ever be carried out, because nekrassov decided to introduce into the railway organisation, hitherto strongly disciplined, "the new principles of democratic organisation, instead of the old watchwords of compulsion and fear"(?). soviets and committees were implanted upon every branch of the railway administration. enormous sums were spent upon this undertaking, and, by his famous circular of may th, the minister assigned to these organisations a very wide scope of control and management, as well as of the "direction" which they were henceforward entitled to give to the responsible personnel in the administration. executive functions were subsequently promised to these organisations.... "meanwhile the ministry of railways and its subordinate branches will work in strict accordance with the ideas and wishes of the united railway workers." nekrassov thus handed over to a private organisation the most important interests of the state--the direction of the railway policy, the control of the defence, of industries, and of all other branches dependent upon the railway system. as one of our contemporary critics has said, this measure would have been entirely justified had the whole population of russia consisted of railway employees. this reform, carried out by nekrassov on a scale unprecedented in history, was something worse than a mere blunder. the general trend of ministerial policy was well understood. in the beginning of august, at the moscow congress, which was turned into a weapon for the socialist parties of the left, one of the leaders declared that "the railway union must be fully autonomous and no authority except that of the workers themselves should be entitled to interfere with it." in other words, a state within a state. disruption ensued. a new phase of the arbitrariness of ever-changing organisations was introduced into the strict and precise mechanism of the railway services in the centre as well as throughout the country. i understand the democratisation that opens to the popular masses wide access to science, technical knowledge, and art, but i do not understand the democratisation of these achievements of human intellect. there followed anarchy and the collapse of labour discipline. as early as in july the position of the railways was rendered hopeless through the action of the government. after holding the office of minister of railways for four months, nekrassov went to the ministry of finance, of which he was utterly ignorant, and his successor, yurenev, began to struggle against the usurpation of power by the railwaymen, as he considered "the interference of private persons and organisations with the executive functions of the department as a crime against the state." the struggle was conducted by the customary methods of the provisional government, and what was lost could no longer be recovered. at the moscow congress the president of the union of the railwaymen, fully conscious of its power, said that the struggle against democratic organisations was a manifestation of counter-revolution, that the union would use every weapon in order to counteract these endeavours, and "would be strong enough to slay this counter-revolutionary hydra." as is well known, the all-russian executive committee of the union of railways subsequently became a political organisation pure and simple, and betrayed kornilov to kerensky and kerensky to lenin. with a zeal worthy of the secret police of the old régime, it hunted out kornilov's followers, and finally met an inglorious end in the clutches of bolshevik centralisation. * * * * * we now come to another element in the life of the state--finance. every normal financial system is dependent upon a series of conditions: general political conditions, offering a guarantee of the external and internal stability of the state and of the country; strategical conditions, defining the measure of efficiency of the national defence; economic conditions, such as the productivity of the country's industries and the relation of production to consumption; the conditions of labour, of transport, etc. the government, the front, the villages, the factories, and the transport offered no necessary guarantees, and the ministry of finance could but have recourse to palliatives in order to arrest the disruption of the entire system of the currency and the complete collapse of the budget, pending the restoration of comparative order in the country. according to the accepted view, the main defects of our pre-war budget were that it was based upon the revenue of the spirit monopoly ( , , roubles), and that there was scarcely any direct taxation. before the war the budget of russia was about ½ milliards of roubles; the national debt was about ½ milliards, and we paid nearly , , roubles interest per annum; half of that sum went abroad, and was partially covered by ½ milliards of our exports. the war and prohibition completely upset our budget. government expenses during the war reached the following figures: ½ milliards of roubles. " " " " seven months, " " the enormous deficit was partially covered by loans and by paper currency. the expenses of the war were met, however, out of the so-called "war fund." at the stavka, in accordance with the dictates of practical wisdom, expenditure was under the full control of the chief-of-staff of the supreme commander-in-chief, who determined the heads of expenditure in his orders, schedules, and estimates. the revolution dealt the death-blow to our finance. as shingarev, the minister of finance, said, the revolution "induced everyone to claim more rights, and stifled any sense of duty. everybody demanded higher wages, but no one dreamt of paying taxes, and the finances of the country were thus placed in a hopeless position." there was a real orgy; everyone was desperately trying to grab as much as possible from the treasury under the guise of democratisation, taking advantage of the impotence of the government and of powerlessness to resist. even nekrassov had the courage to declare at the moscow congress that "never in history had any czarist government been as generous and prodigal as the government of revolutionary russia," and that "the new revolutionary régime is much more expensive than the old one." suffice it to quote a few "astronomic" figures in order to gauge the insuperable obstacles in the way of a reasonable budget. the decline of production and the excessive rise in wages resulted in the necessity of enormous expenditure for subsidies to expiring concerns and for overpayments for means of production. these over-payments in the donetz basin alone amounted to , , , roubles; the increase in the soldiers' pay, , , roubles; railwaymen's pay, , , roubles; post office employees, , , roubles. after a month the latter demanded another , , roubles, while the entire revenue of the posts and telegraphs was , , roubles. the soviet demanded milliards (in other words, nearly the total of the budget for ) for allowances to soldiers' wives, whereas only milliards had been spent till under this head. the food supply committees cost , , roubles per annum, and the land committee , , roubles, etc., etc. meanwhile the revenue was falling steadily. thus, for example, the land tax fell per cent. in the first few months of the revolution; the revenue from town property, per cent.; the house tax, per cent., etc. at the same time, our internal troubles caused the depreciation of the rouble and a fall in the price of russian securities abroad. the provisional government based its financial policy upon "reorganisation of the financial system on democratic lines and the direct taxation of the propertied classes" (death duties, excess profits taxes, income taxes, etc.). the government, however, would not adopt the measure recommended by the revolutionary democracy--a compulsory loan or a high capital levy--a measure distinctly tainted with bolshevism. all these just taxes, introduced or planned, did not suffice even partially to satisfy the growing needs of the state. in the month of august the finance ministry was compelled to increase indirect taxation on certain monopolies, such as tea, sugar, and matches. these measures were, of course, extremely burdensome, and therefore highly unpopular. expenditure was growing, revenue was not forthcoming. the liberty loan was not progressing favourably, and there could be no hope for foreign loans on account of the condition of the russian front. internal loans and treasury bonds yielded ½ milliards in the first half of . ordinary revenue was expected to yield , , , roubles. there remained one weapon established by the historical tradition of every revolution--the printing press. paper currency reached colossal proportions: ½ , , , roubles. , , , " , , , " ½ , , , " according to the estimates of july, , the total of paper currency was , , , roubles (the gold reserve was , , , roubles), as against milliards before the war. four successive finance ministers were unable to drag the country out of the financial morass. this might possibly have been achieved by the awakening of the national spirit and an understanding of the interests of the state, or by the growth of a wise and strong power which could have dealt a final blow to the anti-state, selfish motives of the bourgeois elements that based their well-being upon the war and upon the blood of the people, as well as of the democracy, which, in the words of shingarev, "so severely condemned through its representatives in the duma the very same poison (paper currency) which it was now drinking greedily at the moment when that democracy had become its own master." chapter xiv. the strategical position of the russian front. the first and fundamental question with which i was confronted at the stavka was _the objective of our front_. the condition of the enemy did not appear to us as particularly brilliant. but i must confess that the truth as at present revealed exceeds all our surmises, especially according to the picture drawn by hindenburg and ludendorff of the condition of germany and of her allies in . i will not dwell upon the respective numerical strength, armaments, and strategical positions on the western front. i will only recall that in the middle of june hindenburg gave rather a gloomy description of the condition of the country in his telegram to the emperor. he said: "we are very much perturbed by the depression of the spirits of the people. that spirit must be raised, _or we shall lose the war_. our allies also require support, lest they desert us.... economic problems must be solved, which are of paramount importance to our future. the question arises--is the chancellor capable of solving them? a solution must be found _or else we perish_." the germans were anticipating a big offensive of the british and the french on the western front, where they had concentrated their main attention and their main forces, leaving on the eastern front after the russian revolution only such numbers as were scarcely sufficient for defence. and yet the position on the eastern front continued to create a certain nervousness at the german g.h.q. will the russian people remain steadfast, or will the defeatist tendencies prevail? hindenburg wrote: "as the condition of the russian army prevented us from finding a clear answer to that question, our position in regard to russia remained insecure." in spite of all its defects, the russian army in march, , was a formidable force, with which the enemy had seriously to reckon. owing to the mobilisation of industry, to the activities of the war-industries committees, and partly to the fact that the war ministry was showing increased energy, our armaments had reached a level hitherto unknown. also, the allies were supplying us with artillery and war materials through murmansk and archangel on a larger scale. in the spring we had the powerful forty-eighth corps--a name under which heavy artillery of the highest calibre for special purposes, "taon," was concealed. in the beginning of the year the engineering troops were reorganised and amplified. at the same time new infantry divisions were beginning to deploy. this measure, adopted by general gourko during his temporary tenure of office as chief-of-staff of the supreme c.-in-c., consisted in the reduction of regiments from four battalions to three, as well as the reduction of the number of guns to a division. a third division was thus created in every army corps, with artillery. there can be no doubt that, had this scheme been introduced in peace-time, the army corps would have been more pliable and considerably stronger. it was a risky thing to do in war-time. before the spring operations the old divisions were disbanded, whereas the new ones were in a pitiable state in regard to armaments (machine-guns, etc.), as well as technical strength and equipment. many of them had not been sufficiently blended together--a circumstance of particular importance in view of the revolution. the position was so acute that in may the stavka was compelled to sanction the disbanding of those of the third division which should prove feeble, and to distribute the men among units of the line. this idea, however, was hardly ever put into practice, as it encountered strong opposition on the part of units already disaffected by the revolution. another measure which weakened the ranks of the army was the dismissal of the senior men in the ranks. this decision, fraught with incalculable consequences, was taken on the eve of a general offensive. it was due to a statement made at a council at the stavka by the minister of agriculture (who was also in charge of supplies) that the condition of supplies was critical, and that he could not undertake the responsibility of feeding the army unless about a million men were removed from the ration list. in the debate attention was drawn to the presence in the army of an enormous number of non-combatants, quite out of proportion to the numbers of fighting men, and to the inclusion in the army of a quantity of auxiliary bodies, which were hardly necessary, such as of labour organisations, chinese, and other alien labour battalions, etc. mention was also made of the necessity of having a younger army. i very much feared this trend of mind, and gave orders to the staff to draw up accurate lists of all the above-named capitalists. while this work was still in preparation the war minister issued, on april th, an order of the day giving leave, in the internal districts, to soldiers over forty to work in the fields till may th. leave was afterwards extended till june th, but practically hardly anyone returned. on april th the provisional government discharged all men over forty-three. under the pressure of the men it became unavoidable to spread the provisions of the first order to the army, which would not be reconciled to any privileges granted to the rear. the second order gave rise to a very dangerous tendency, as it practically amounted to a _beginning of demobilisation_. the elemental desire of those who had been given leave to return to their homes could not be controlled by any regulations, and the masses of these men, who flooded the railway stations, caused a protracted disorganisation of the means of transport. some regiments formed out of reserve battalions lost most of their men. in the rear of the army transport was likewise in a state of confusion. the men did not wait to be relieved, but left the lorries and the horses to their fate; supplies were plundered and the horses perished. the army was weakened as a result of these circumstances, and the preparations for the defensive were delayed. [map: the russian (european) front in .] [map: the russian caucasian front in march .] the russian army occupied an enormous front, from the baltic to the black sea and from the black sea to hamadan. sixty-eight infantry and nine cavalry corps occupied the line. both the importance of and the conditions obtaining on these fronts varied. our northern front, including finland, the baltic and the line of the western dvina, was of great importance, as it covered the approaches to petrograd. but the importance at that front was limited to defensive purposes, and for that reason it was impossible to keep at that front large forces or considerable numbers of guns. the conditions of that theatre--the strong defensive line of the dvina--a series of natural positions in the rear linked up with the main positions of the western russian front, and the impossibility of any important operations in the direction of petrograd without taking possession of the sea, which was in our hands--all this would have justified us in considering that the front was, to a certain extent, secure, had it not been for two circumstances, which caused the stavka serious concern: the troops of the northern front, owing to the vicinity of revolutionary petrograd, were more demoralised than any other, and the baltic fleet and its bases--helsingfors and kronstadt, of which the latter served as the main base of anarchism and bolshevism--were either "autonomous" or in a state of semi-anarchy. while preserving to a certain degree the outward form of discipline, the baltic fleet was actually in a state of complete insubordination. the admiral in command, maximov, was entirely in the hands of the central committee of sailors. not a single order for naval operations could be carried out without the sanction of that committee, not to speak of naval actions. even the work of laying and repairing minefields--the main defence of the baltic--met with opposition from sailors' organisations and the crews. not only the general decline of discipline, but the well-planned work of the german general staff were quite obvious, and apprehensions were entertained lest naval secrets and codes be revealed to the enemy. at the same time, the troops of the forty-second corps, quartered along the finnish coast and on the monzund islands, had been idle for a long time and their positions scattered. with the beginning of the revolution they were, therefore, rapidly demoralised, and some of them were nothing but physically and morally degenerate crowds. to relieve or to move them was an impossibility. i recall that in may, , i made several unavailing endeavours to send an infantry brigade to the monzund islands. suffice it to say that the army corps commander would not make up his mind to inspect his troops and get into touch with them--a circumstance which is typical of the troops as well as of the personality of their commander. in a word, the position on the northern front in the spring of was the following: we received daily reports of the channel between the islands of the gulf of riga and the mainland being blocked with ice, and this ice appeared to be the chief real obstacle to an invasion of the german fleet and expeditionary forces. the western front extended from the disna to the pripet. on this long line two sectors--minsk-vilna and minsk-baranovitchi--were of the greatest importance to us, as they represented the two directions in which our troops, as well as the germans, might undertake offensive operations, for which there had already been precedents. the other sections of the front, and especially the southern--the pollessie, with its forests and marshes--owing to the conditions of the country and of the railways, were passive. along the river pripet, its tributaries and canals, a kind of half-peaceful intercourse with the germans had long since been established, as well as a secret exchange of goods, which was of some advantage to the "comrades." for example, we received reports that russian soldiers from the line, with bags, appeared daily in the market of pinsk, and that their advent was for many reasons encouraged by the german authorities. there was another vulnerable point--the bridge-head on the stokhod by the station, chrevishe-golenin, occupied by one of the army corps of general lesh. on march st, after strong artillery preparation and a gas attack, the germans fell upon our corps and smashed it to pieces. our troops had heavy casualties, and the remnants of the corps retreated behind the stokhod. the stavka did not get an accurate list of the casualties, because it was impossible to ascertain the numbers of killed or wounded under the head of "missing." the german official communiqué gave a list of prisoners-- officers and about , men. owing to the conditions in that theatre of war, this tactical success was of no strategical importance, and could lead to no dangerous developments. nevertheless, we could not but wonder at the frankness of the cautious _norddeutsche allgemeine zeitung_, the official organ of the german chancellor, which wrote: "the communiqué of the stavka of the russian supreme command of march th is mistaken in interpreting the operations undertaken by the german troops, and dictated by a tactical necessity which had arisen only within the limits of a given sector, was an operation of general importance." the paper knew the facts of which we were not certain and which have now been explained by ludendorff. from the beginning of the russian revolution, germany had a new aim: _unable to conduct operations on both the main fronts, she had decided attentively to follow and to encourage the process of demoralisation in russia, striking at her not by arms, but by developing propaganda_. the battle of the stokhod was fought on the personal initiative of general linsingen, and the german government was frightened because it considered that "at a moment when fraternisation was proceeding at full speed" german attacks might revive the dying flames of patriotism in russia and postpone her collapse. the chancellor asked the german g.h.q. to make as little as possible of that success, and the g.h.q. cancelled all further offensives "in order not to dash the hopes for peace which were about to be realised." our reverse on the stokhod produced a strong impression in the country. it was the first fighting experience of the "freest revolutionary army in the world...." the stavka merely gave the facts in a spirit of impartiality. in the circles of the revolutionary democracy the reverse was explained partly by the treachery of the commanding officers and partly by a conspiracy to emphasise by this example the impracticability of the new army regulations and the danger of the collapse of discipline, partly by the incompetence of the military authorities. the moscow soviet wrote to the stavka accusing one of the assistants of the war minister who had commanded a division on that front of being a traitor. others attributed our defeat solely to the demoralisation of the troops. in reality, the reasons for the defeat were two-fold: the _tactical_ reason--the doubtful practicability of occupying a narrow bridge-head when the river was swollen, the insecurity of the rear and perhaps inadequate use of the troops and of technical means; and the _psychological_ reason, the collapse of the _moral_ and of the discipline of the troops. the last circumstance, apparent in the enormous number of prisoners, gave both the russian stavka and hindenburg's headquarters much food for thought. the south-western front, from the pripet to moldavia, was the most important, and attracted the greatest attention. from that front, operating lines of the highest importance led to the north-west, into the depths of galicia and poland, to cracow, warsaw and brest-litovsk. the advance along these lines was covered from the south by the carpathians, separated the southern austrian group of armies from the northern german, and threatened the rear and the communications of the latter. these operating lines, upon which no serious obstacles were encountered, led us to the front of the austrian troops, whose fighting capacity was lower than the germans. the rear of our south-western front was comparatively well-organised and prosperous. the psychology of the troops, of the command, and of the staffs always differed considerably from the psychology of other fronts. in the glorious, but joyless, campaign only the armies of the south-western front had won splendid victories, had taken hundreds of thousands of prisoners, had made victorious progress hundreds of miles deep into the enemy territory, and had descended into hungary from the carpathians. these troops had formerly always believed in success. brussilov, kornilov, kaledin had made their reputations on that front. owing to all these circumstances the south-western front was regarded as the natural base and the centre of the impending operations. consequently, troops, technical means, the greater part of the heavy artillery ("taon") and munitions were concentrated at that front. the region between the upper seret and the carpathians was, therefore, being prepared for the offensive, _places d'armes_ erected, roads made. further south there was the roumanian front, stretching to the black sea. after the unsuccessful campaign of our troops occupied the line of the danube, the seret and the carpathians, and it was sufficiently fortified. part of general averesco's roumanian troops occupied the front between our fourth and ninth armies, and part were being organised under the direction of the french general, berthelot, assisted by russian gunner instructors. the reorganisation and formation proceeded favourably, the more so as the roumanian soldier is excellent war material. i became acquainted with the roumanian army in november, , when i was sent with the eighth army corps to buseo, into the thick of the retreating roumanian armies. curiously enough, i was ordered to advance in the direction of bucarest until i came into contact with the enemy, and to cover that direction with the assistance of the retreating roumanian troops. for several months i fought by buseo, rymnik and fokshany, having two roumanian corps at times under my command and averesco's army on my flank. i thus gained a thorough knowledge of the roumanian troops. in the beginning of the campaign the roumanian army showed complete disregard of the experience of the world war. in matters of equipment and ammunition their levity was almost criminal. there were several capable generals, the officers were effeminate and inefficient, and the men were splendid. the artillery was adequate, but the infantry was untrained. these are the main characteristics of the roumanian army, which soon afterwards acquired better organisation and improved in training and equipment. the relations between the actual russian commander-in-chief, who was designated as the assistant c.-in-c., and the king of roumania, who was nominally in chief command, were fairly cordial. although the russian troops began to commit excesses, which had a bad effect upon the attitude of the roumanians, the condition of the front did not, however, cause serious apprehension. owing to the general conditions at the theatre of war, only an advance in great strength in the direction of bucarest and an invasion of transylvania could have had a political and strategical effect. but new forces could not be moved to roumania, and the condition of the roumanian railways excluded all hope of the possibility of transport and supplies on a large scale. the theatre, therefore, was of secondary importance, and the troops of the roumanian front were preparing for a local operation, with a view to attracting the austro-german forces. the caucasian front was in an exceptional position. it was far distant. for many years the caucasian administration and command had enjoyed a certain degree of autonomy. from august, , the army was commanded by the grand-duke nicholas, a man of commanding personality, who took advantage of his position whenever there was a difference of opinion between himself and the stavka. finally, the natural conditions of the theatre of war and the peculiarities of the enemy rendered that front entirely different from the european. all this led to a kind of remoteness and aloofness of the caucasian army and too abnormal relations with the stavka. general alexeiev repeatedly stated that, in spite of all his efforts, he was unable clearly to discern the situation in the caucasus. the caucasus lived independently, and told the government only as much as it considered necessary; and the reports were coloured in accordance with local interests. in the spring of the caucasian army was in a difficult position, not by reason of the strategical or fighting advantages of the enemy--the turkish army was by no means a serious menace--but of internal disorganisation. the countryside was roadless and bare. there were no supplies or forage, and the difficulties of transport made the life of the troops very arduous. the army corps on the right flank was comparatively well supplied, owing to facilities for transport across the black sea, but the other army corps, and especially those of the left flank, fared very badly. owing to geographical conditions, light transport required an enormous number of horses, while there was no fodder on the spot. railways of all kinds were being built very slowly, partly owing to a lack of railway material and partly because that material had been wasted by the caucasian front upon the trapezund railway, which was of secondary importance, owing to the parallel maritime transport. in the beginning of may general yudenitch reported that, owing to disease and loss of horses, transport was completely disorganised, batteries in position had no horses, half of the transport was non-existent, and , horses were needed. tracks, rolling stock and forage were urgently required. in the first half of april , men ( per cent.) of the infantry of the line had died of typhus and scurvy. yudenitch therefore foreshadowed the necessity of a compulsory retreat to points of supply, the centre towards erzerum and the right flank to the frontier. the solution suggested by general yudenitch could not be accepted, both for moral reasons and because our retreat would have freed turkish troops for action on other asiatic fronts. this circumstance particularly worried the british military representative at the stavka, who repeatedly conveyed to us the desire of the british g.h.q. that the left flank of our troops should advance in the valley of the river diala for a combined operation with general maude's mesopotamian contingent against halil pasha's army. this advance was necessary to the british rather for political considerations than for strategical requirements. the actual condition of our left flank army corps was, moreover, truly desperate, and in may tropical heat set in in the valley of the diala. as a result the caucasian front was unable to advance, and was ordered actively to defend its position. the advance of the army corps of the left flank, in contact with the british, was made conditional upon the latter supplying the troops. as a matter of fact, in the middle of april, a partial retreat took place in the direction of ognot and mush; at the end of april the left flank began its fruitless advance in the valley of the diala, and subsequently a condition arose on the caucasian front which was something between war and peace. in conclusion, mention must be made of another portion of the armed forces of russia in that theatre--the black sea fleet. in may and in the beginning of june serious disturbances had already occurred, which led to the resignation of admiral koltchak. the fleet, however, was still considered strong enough to carry out its task--to hold the black sea and also to blockade the turkish and bulgarian coasts and guard the maritime routes to the caucasian and roumanian fronts. i have given a short summary of the conditions of the russian front without indulging in a detailed examination of strategical possibilities. whatever our strategy during that period may have been, it was upset by the masses of the soldiery, for from petrograd to the danube and the diala demoralisation was spreading and growing. in the beginning of the revolution it was impossible to gauge the extent of its effects upon various fronts and upon future operations. but many were those whose minds were poisoned by a suspicion as to the futility of all our plans, calculations and efforts. chapter xv. the question of the advance of the russian army. we were thus confronted with a crucial question: should the russian army advance? on march th the provisional government issued a proclamation "to the citizens" on the subject of war aims. the stavka could not detect any definite instructions for governing the russian army in the midst of a series of phrases in which the true meaning of the appeal was obscured in deference to the revolutionary democracy. "the defence at all costs of our national patrimony and the liberation of the country from the enemy who has invaded it is the first and vital aim of our soldiers, who are defending the freedom of the people.... free russia does not aim at domination over other peoples, at depriving them of _their_ national patrimony, or at the forcible seizure of foreign territories. she aims at a lasting peace, on the basis of the self-determination of peoples. the russian people do not wish to increase their external power at the expense of other peoples ... but ... will not allow their mother country to come out of the great struggle downtrodden and weakened. these principles will constitute the basis of the foreign policy of the provisional government ... _while all the obligations to our allies will be respected_." in the note of april th, addressed to the allied powers by the foreign minister, miliukov, we find yet another definition: "the universal desire of the people to carry the world war to a victorious conclusion ... has grown owing to the consciousness of the common responsibility of everyone. this desire has become more active, because it is concentrated on the aim which is immediate and clear to everyone--_that of repelling the enemy who has invaded the territory of our mother country_." these, of course, were mere phrases, which described the war aims in cautious, timorous and nebulous words, allowing of any interpretation, and deprived, moreover, any foundation in fact. the will for victory in the people and in the army had not only not grown, but was steadily decreasing, as a result of weariness and waning patriotism, as well as of the intense work of the abnormal coalition between the representatives of the extreme elements of the russian revolutionary democracy and the german general staff. that coalition was formed by ties which were unseen and yet quite perceptible. i will deal with that question later, and will only say here that the destructive work, in accordance with the zimmerwald programme, for ending the war began long before the revolution and was conducted from within as well as from without. the provisional government was trying to pacify the militant element of the revolutionary democracy by expounding meaningless and obscure formulas with regard to the war aims, but it did not interfere with the stavka in regard to the choice of strategical means. we were, therefore, to decide the question of the advance independently from the prevailing currents of political opinion. the only clear and definite object upon which the commanding staffs could not fail to agree was to defeat the enemy in close union with the allies. otherwise our country was doomed to destruction. such a decision implied an advance on a large scale because victory was impossible without it, and a devastating war might otherwise become protracted. the responsible organs of the democracy, the majority of whom had defeatist tendencies, tried correspondingly to influence the masses. even the moderate socialist circles were not altogether free from these tendencies. the masses of the soldiery utterly failed to understand the ideas behind of the zimmerwald programme; but the programme itself offered a certain justification for the elementary feelings of self-preservation. in other words, it was a question with them of saving their skin. the idea of an advance could not, therefore, be particularly popular with the army, as demoralisation was growing. there was no certainty not only that the advance would be successful, but even that the troops would obey the order to go forward. the colossal russian front was still steady ... by the force of inertia. the enemy feared it, as, like ourselves, he was unable to gauge its potential strength. what if the advance were to disclose our impotence? such were the motives adduced against an advance. but there were too many weighty reasons in favour of it, and these reasons were imperative. the central powers had exhausted their strength, moral and material, and their man power. if our advance in the autumn of , which had no decisive strategical results, had placed the enemy forces in a critical position, what might not happen now, when we had become stronger and, technically better equipped, when we had the advantage in numbers, and the allies were planning a decisive blow in the spring of ? the germans were awaiting the blow with feverish anxiety, and in order to avert it they had retreated thirty miles on a front of miles between arras and soissons to the so-called hindenburg line, after causing incredibly ruthless and inexcusable devastation to the relinquished territory. this retreat was significant, as it was an indication of the enemy's weakness, and gave rise to great hopes. _we had to advance._ our intelligence service was completely destroyed by the suspicions of the revolutionary democracy, which had foolishly believed that this service was identical with the old secret police organisation, and had therefore abolished it. many of the delegates of the soviet were in touch with the german agents. the fronts were in close contact, and espionage was rendered very easy. in these circumstances our decision not to advance would have been undoubtedly communicated to the enemy, who would have immediately commenced the transference of his troops to the western front. this would have been tantamount to treason to our allies, and would have inevitably led to a separate peace--with all its consequences--if not officially, at least practically. the attitude of the revolutionary elements in petrograd in this matter was, however, so unstable that the stavka had at first suspected--without any real foundation--the provisional government itself. this caused the following incident: at the end of april, in the temporary absence of the supreme c.-in-c., the chief of the diplomatic chancery reported to me that the allied military attaches were greatly perturbed because a telegram had just been received from the italian ambassador at petrograd, in which he categorically stated that the provisional government had decided to conclude a separate peace with the central powers. when the receipt of a telegram had been ascertained, i sent a telegram to the war minister, because i was then unaware of the fact that the italian embassy, owing to the impulsiveness of its personnel, had more than once been the channel through which false rumours had been spread. my telegram was most emphatic, and ended thus: "posterity will stigmatise with deep contempt the weak-kneed, impotent, irresolute generation which was good enough to destroy the rotten régime, but not good enough to preserve the honour, the dignity, and the very existence of russia." the misunderstanding was painful indeed; the news was false, the government was not thinking of a separate peace. later, at the fateful sitting of the conference at the stavka of commanders-in-chief and members of the government, on july th, i had an opportunity of expressing my views once more. i said: "... there is another way--the way of treason. it would give a respite to our distressed country.... but the curse of treachery will not give us happiness. at the end of that way there is slavery--political, economical, and moral." i am aware that in certain russian circles such a straightforward profession of moral principles in politics was afterwards condemned. it was stated that such idealism is misplaced and pernicious, that the interests of russia must be considered above all "conventional political morality."... a people, however, lives not for years, but for centuries, and i am certain that, had we then altered the course of our external policy, the sufferings of the russian people would not have been materially affected, and the gruesome, blood-stained game with marked cards would have continued ... at the expense of the people. the psychology of the russian military leaders did not allow of such a change, of such a compromise with conscience. alexeiev and kornilov, abandoned by all and unsupported, continued for a long time to follow that path, trusting and relying upon the common-sense, if not the noble spirit, of the allies and preferring to be betrayed rather than betray. was that playing the part of a don quixote? it may be so. but the other policy would have had to be conducted by other hands less clean. as regards myself, three years later, having lost all my illusions and borne the heavy blows of fortune, having knocked against the solid wall of the overt and blind egoism of the "friendly" powers, and being therefore free from all obligations towards the allies, almost on the eve of the final betrayal by these powers of the real russia, i remained the convinced advocate of _honest policy_. now the tables are turned. at the end of april, , i had to try and convince british members of parliament that a healthy national policy cannot be free from all moral principles, and that an obvious crime was being committed because no other name could be given to the abandonment of the armed forces of the crimea to the discontinuance of the struggle against bolshevism, its introduction into the family of civilised nations, and to its indirect recognition; that this would prolong for a short while the days of bolshevism in russia, but would open wide the gates of europe to bolshevism. i am firmly convinced that the nemesis of history will not forgive them, as it would not have then forgiven us. the beginning of was a moment of acute peril for the central powers and a decisive moment for the entente. the question of the russian advance greatly perturbed the allied high command. general barter, the representative of great britain, and general janin, the french representative at russian headquarters, often visited the supreme c.-in-c. and myself, and made inquiries on the subject. but the statements of the german press, with reference to pressure from the allies and to ultimatums to the stavka, are incorrect. these would have simply been useless, because janin and barter understood the situation, and knew that it was the condition of the army that hindered the beginning of the advance. they tried to hurry and to increase technical assistance, while their more impulsive compatriots--thomas, henderson, and vandervelde--were making hopeless endeavours to fan the flame of patriotism by their impassioned appeals to the representatives of the russian revolutionary democracy and to the troops. the stavka also took into consideration the strong probability that the russian army would have rapidly and finally collapsed had it been left in a passive condition and deprived of all impulses for active hostilities, whereas a successful advance might lift and heal the _moral_, if not through sheer patriotism, at least through the intoxication of a great victory. such feelings might have counteracted all international formulas sown by the enemy on the fertile soil of the defeatist tendencies of the socialistic party. victory would have given external peace, and some chance of peace within. defeat opened before the country an abyss. the risk was inevitable, and was justified by the aim of saving russia. the supreme commander-in-chief, the quartermaster-general, and myself fully agreed as to the necessity of an advance. and this view was shared in principle by the senior commanding officers. different views were held on various fronts as to the degree of fighting capacity of the troops and as to their preparedness. i am thoroughly convinced that the decision itself independently of its execution rendered the allies a great service, because the forces, the means, and the attention of the enemy were kept on the russian front, which, although it had lost its former formidable power, still remained a potential danger to the enemy. the same question, curiously enough, was confronting hindenburg's headquarters. ludendorff writes: "the general position in april and in may precluded the possibility of important operations on the eastern front." later, however, "... there were great discussions on the subject at g.h.q. would not a rapid advance on the eastern front with the available troops, reinforced by a few divisions from the west, offer a better chance than mere waiting? it was a most propitious moment, as some people said, for smashing the russian army, when its fighting capacity had deteriorated.... i disagreed, in spite of the fact that our position in the west had improved. i would not do anything that might destroy the real chances of peace." ludendorff means, of course, separate peace. what such a peace was to be we learnt later, at brest-litovsk.... the armies were given directions for a new offensive. the general idea was to break through the enemy positions on sectors specially prepared on all european fronts, to advance on a broad front in great strength on the south-western front, in the direction from kamenetz-podolsk to lvov, and further to the line of the vistula, while the striking force of our western front was to advance from molodetchno to vilna and the niemen, throwing back northwards the german armies of general eichorn. the northern and the roumanian fronts were to co-operate by dealing local blows and attracting the forces of the enemy. the time for the advance was not definitely fixed, and a broad margin was allowed. but the days went by, and the troops, who had hitherto obeyed orders and carried out the most difficult tasks without a murmur, the same troops that had hitherto withstood the onset of the austro-german armies with naked breasts, without cartridges or shells, now stood with their will-power paralysed and their reason obscured. the offensive was still further delayed. meanwhile the allies, who had been preparing a big operation for the spring, as they had counted upon strong reinforcements being brought up by the enemy in the event of the complete collapse of the russian front, began the great battle in france, as had been planned, at the end of march, and _without awaiting_ the final decision on our advance. the allied headquarters, however, did not consider simultaneous action as a necessary condition of the contemplated operations, even before disaffection had begun in the russian army. owing to the natural conditions of our front we were not expected to begin the advance before the month of may. meanwhile, according to the general plan of campaign for , which had been drawn up in november, , at the conference at chantilly, general joffre intended to begin the advance of the anglo-french army at the end of january and the beginning of february. general nivelle, who superseded him, altered the date to the end of march after the conference at calais of february th, . the absence of co-ordination between the western and eastern european fronts was bearing bitter fruit. it is difficult to tell whether the allies would have deferred their spring offensive for two months, and whether the advances of a combined operation with the russian front would have been a compensation for the delay, which gave germany the opportunity of reinforcing and reorganising her armies. one thing is certain--that that lack of co-ordination gave the germans a great respite. ludendorff wrote: "i detest useless discussions, but i cannot fail to think of what would have happened had russia advanced in april and may and had won a few minor victories. we would have been faced, as in the autumn of , with a fierce struggle. our munitions would have reached a very low ebb. after careful consideration, i fail to see how our high command could have remained the master of the situation had the russians obtained in april and may even the same scant successes which crowned their efforts in june. in april and may of , in spite of our victory (?) on the aisne and in champagne, it was only the russian revolution that saved us." * * * * * apart from the general advance on the austro-german front, another question of considerable interest arose in april--that of an _independent operation for the conquest of constantinople_. inspired by young and spirited naval officers, the foreign minister, miliukov, repeatedly negotiated with alexeiev, and tried to persuade him to undertake that operation, which he considered likely to be successful, and which would, in his opinion, confront the revolutionary democracy, which was protesting against annexations, with an accomplished fact. the stavka disapproved of this undertaking, as the condition of our troops would not permit of it. the landing of an expeditionary force--in itself a very delicate task--demanded stringent discipline, preparation, and perfect order. what is more, the expeditionary force, which would lose touch with the main army, should be imbued with a very strong sense of duty. to have the sea in the rear is a circumstance which depresses even troops with a very strong _moral_. these elements had already ceased to exist in the russian army. the minister's requests were becoming, however, so urgent that general alexeiev deemed it necessary to give him an object-lesson, and a small expedition was planned to the turkish coast of asia minor. as far as i can remember, zunguldak was the objective. this insignificant operation required a detachment consisting of one infantry regiment, one armoured car division, and a small cavalry contingent, and was to have been carried out by the troops of the roumanian front. after a while the headquarters of that front had shamefacedly to report that the detachment could not be formed because the troops declined to join the expeditionary force. this episode was due to a foolish interpretation of the idea of peace without annexations, which distorted the very principles of strategy and was also, perhaps, due to the same instinct of self-preservation. it was another ill omen for the impending general advance. that advance was still being prepared, painfully and desperately. the rusty, notched russian sword was still brandished. the question was, when would it stop and upon whose head would it fall? [illustration: foreign military representatives at the stavka. standing on the pathway, from left to right: lieut.-col. marsengo (italy); . general janin (france); . general alexeiev; . general barter (great britain); . general romei longhena (italy).] chapter xvi. military reforms--the generals--the dismissal from the high command. preparations for the advance continued alongside of the so-called "democratisation." these phenomena must be here recorded, as they had a decisive effect upon the issue of the summer offensive and upon the final destinies of the army. military reforms began by the dismissal of vast numbers of commanding generals. in military circles this was described, in tragic jest, as "the slaughter of the innocents." it opened with the conversation between the war minister, gutchkov, and the general on duty at the stavka, komzerovski. at the minister's request the general drew up a list of the senior commanding officers, with short notes (records of service). this list, afterwards completed by various people who enjoyed gutchkov's confidence, served as a basis for the "slaughter." in the course of a few weeks senior officers, including seventy commanders of infantry and cavalry divisions, were placed on the retired list. in his speech to the delegates of the front on april th, , gutchkov gave the following reasons for this measure: "it has been our first task, after the beginning of the revolution, to make room for talent. among our commanding officers there were many honest men; but some of them were unable to grasp the new principles of intercourse, and in a short time more changes have been made in our commanding personnel than have ever been made before in any army.... i realised that there could be no mercy in this case, and i was merciless to those whom i considered incapable. of course, i may have been wrong. there may have been dozens of mistakes, but i consulted knowledgeable people and took decisions only when i felt that they were in keeping with the general opinion. at any rate, we have promoted all those who have proved their capacity among the commanding officers. i disregarded hierarchical considerations. there are men who commanded regiments in the beginning of the war and are now commanding armies.... we have thus attained not only an improvement, but something different and equally important. by proclaiming the watchword 'room for talent' we have instilled joy into the hearts, and have induced the officers to work with impetus and inspiration...." what did the army gain by such drastic changes? did the _cadres_ of the commanding officers really improve? in my opinion that object was not attained. new men appeared on the scene, owing to the newly-introduced right of selecting assistants, not without the interference of our old friends--family ties, friendship and wire-pulling. could the revolution give new birth to men or make them perfect? was a mechanical change of personnel capable of killing a system which for many years had weakened the impulse for work and for self-improvement? it may be that some talented individuals did come to the fore, but there were also dozens, nay, hundreds, of men whose promotion was due to accident and not to knowledge or energy. this accidental character of appointments was further intensified when later kerensky abolished for the duration of the war all the existing qualifications, as well as the correlation of rank and office. the qualification of knowledge and experience was also thereby set aside. i have before me a list of the senior commanding officers of the russian army in the middle of may, , when gutchkov's "slaughter" had been accomplished. the list includes the supreme commander-in-chief, the commanders-in-chief of fronts, armies and fleets, and their chiefs of staff--altogether forty-five men: opportunists. ------------+----------------+----------------+----------------+------ the | approving | non-resisters | opponents | commanding | of | to | of |total. personnel. |democratisation.|democratisation.|democratisation.| ------------+----------------+----------------+----------------+------ the supreme | | | | c.-in-c. | | | | army | | | | commanders| | | | fleet | | | | commanders| | | | chiefs | | | | of staff | | | | ------------+----------------+----------------+----------------+------ | | | | ------------+----------------+----------------+----------------+------ i have excluded five names, as i have no data about them. these men were the brain, the soul and the will-power of the army. it is difficult to estimate their military capacity according to their last tenures of office, because strategy and military science in had almost entirely ceased to be applied and became slavishly subservient to the soldiery, but i know the activities of these men in regard to the struggle against democratisation--_i.e._, the disruption of the army, and the above table indicates the three groups into which they were divided. subsequently, after , some of these men took part in the struggle or kept aloof from it. opportunists. --------------+----------------+----------------+----------------+------ the | approving | non-resisters | opponents | commanding | of | to | of |total. personnel. |democratisation.|democratisation.|democratisation.| --------------+----------------+----------------+----------------+------ in anti- | | | | bolshevik | | | | organisations| | | | with the | | | | bolsheviks | | -- | | retired from | | | | the struggle | | | | --------------+----------------+----------------+----------------+------ such are the results of the changes in the high command, where men were in the public eye and where their activities attracted the critical attention not only of the government, but of military and social circles. i think that in the lower grades things were no better. the question of the justice of this measure may be open to discussion, but, personally, i have no doubt whatsoever about its extreme impracticability. the dismissal _en masse_ of army chiefs definitely undermined the faith in the commanding staffs, and afforded an excuse for the arbitrariness and violence of the committees and of the men towards individual representatives of the commanding staff. constant changes and transfers removed most officers from their units, where they may have enjoyed respect and authority acquired by military prowess. these men were thrown into new circles strange to them, and time was needed, as well as difficult work, in the new and fundamentally changed atmosphere in order to regain that respect and authority. the formation of third infantry divisions was still proceeding, and was also occasioning constant changes in the commanding personnel. that chaos was bound to ensue as a result of all these circumstances is fairly obvious. so delicate a machine as the army was in the days of war and revolution could only be kept going by the force of inertia, and could not withstand new commotions. pernicious elements, of course, should have been removed and the system of appointments altered, and the path opened for those who were worthy; beyond that the matter ought to have been allowed to follow its natural course without laying too much stress upon it and without devising a new system. apart from the commanding officers who were thus removed, several generals resigned of their own accord--such as letchitzki and mistchenko--who could not be reconciled to the new régime, and many commanders who were evicted in a revolutionary fashion by the direct or indirect pressure of the committee or of the soldiery. admiral koltchak was one of them. further changes were made, prompted by varying and sometimes self-contradictory views upon the army administration. these changes were, therefore, very fitful, and prevented a definite type of commanding officer from being introduced. alexeiev dismissed the commander-in-chief, ruzsky, and the army commander, radko-dmitriev, for their weakness and opportunism. he visited the northern front, and, having gained an unfavourable impression of the activities of these generals, he discreetly raised the question of their being "overworked." that is the interpretation given by the army and society to these dismissals. brussilov dismissed yudenitch for the same reasons. i dismissed an army commander (kvietsinski) because his will and authority were subservient to the disorganising activities of the committees who were democratising the army. kerensky dismissed the supreme commander-in-chief and the commanders-in-chief, gourko and dragomirov, because they were strenuously opposed to the democratisation of the army. he also dismissed brussilov for the opposite motives, because brussilov was an opportunist, pure and simple. brussilov dismissed the commander of the eighth army, general kaledin--who later became the ataman of the don and was universally respected--on the plea that he had "lost heart" and did not approve of democratisation. this dismissal of a general with a magnificent war record was effected in a rude and offensive manner. he was at first offered the command of another army, and then offered to retire. kaledin then wrote to me: "my record entitles me to be treated otherwise than as a stop-gap, without taking my own views into consideration." general vannovski, who was relieved of the command of an army corps by the army commander because he refused to acknowledge the priority of the army committee, was immediately appointed by the stavka to a higher command and given an army on the south-western front. general kornilov, who had refused the chief command of the troops of the petrograd district, "because he considered it impossible to be a witness of and a contributor to the disruption of the army by the soviet," was afterwards appointed to the supreme command at the front. kerensky removed me from the office of chief-of-staff of the supreme c.-in-c. because i did not share the views of the government and openly disapproved of its activities, but, at the same time, he allowed me to assume the high office of commander-in-chief of our western front. things also happened of an entirely different nature. the supreme commander-in-chief, general alexeiev, made several unavailing efforts to dismiss admiral maximov, who had been elected to the command of the baltic fleet and was entirely in the hands of the mutinous executive committee of the baltic fleet. it was necessary to remove that officer, who had brought about so much evil, influenced, no doubt, by his surroundings, because the committee refused to release him, and maximov refused all summonses to come to the stavka on the plea that the condition of the fleet was critical. in the beginning of june brussilov managed to remove him from the fleet ... at the price of appointing him chief of the naval staff of the supreme c.-in-c. many other examples might be quoted of incredible contrasts in principles of army administration occasioned by the collision of two opposing forces and two schools of thought. * * * * * i have already said that the entire commanding staff of generals was strictly loyal to the provisional government. general kornilov, the would-be "rebel," addressed the following speech to a meeting of officers: "the old régime has collapsed. the people are building a new structure of liberty, and it is the duty of the people's army wholeheartedly to support the new government in its difficult, creative work." the commanding staff may have taken some interest in questions of general policy and in the socialistic experiments of the coalition governments, but no more than was taken by all cultured russians, and they did not consider themselves entitled or obliged to induce the troops to participate in the solution of social problems. their only concern was to preserve the army and the foreign policy which contributed to the victory. such a connection between the commanding staff and the government, at first "a love match" and later one of convenience, prevailed until the general offensive in june, while there still remained a flicker of hope that the mood of the army would change. that hope was destroyed by events, and, after the advance, the attitude of the commanding staff was somewhat shaken. i may add that the _entire_ senior commanding staff considered as inadmissible the democratisation of the army which the government was enforcing. from the table which i have quoted it can be seen that per cent. of the commanding officers did not raise a sufficiently strong protest against the disruption of the army. the reasons were manifold and entirely different. some did it for tactical considerations, as they thought that the army was poisoned and that it should be healed by such dangerous antidotes. others were prompted by purely selfish motives. i do not speak from hearsay, but because i know the _milieu_ and the individuals, many of whom have discussed the matter with me with perfect frankness. cultured and experienced generals could not frankly and scientifically advocate such "military" views as, for example, klembovski's suggestion that a triumvirate should be placed at the head of the army, consisting of the commander-in-chief, a commissar, and an elected soldier; kvietzinski's suggestion that the army committee should be invested with special plenary power by the war minister and the central committee of the soviet, which would entitle them to act in the name of that committee; or viranovski's suggestion that the entire commanding staff should be converted into "technical advisers" and their power transferred entirely to the commissars and the committee. the loyalty of the high commanding staff can be gauged from the following fact: at the end of april general alexeiev, despairing of the possibility of personally preventing the government from adopting measures which tended to disrupt the army, and before issuing the famous proclamation of the rights of the soldier, wired in cipher to all the commanders-in-chief a draft of a strong and resolute collective appeal from the army to the government. this appeal pointed to the abyss into which the army was being hurled. in the event of the draft being approved, it was to have been signed by all senior ranks, including divisional commanders. the fronts, however, for various reasons, disapproved of such means of influencing the government. general ragosa, the temporary c.-in-c. of the roumanian front, who was afterwards ukrainian war minister under the hetman, replied that the russian people seemed to be ordained by the almighty to perish, and it was therefore useless to struggle against fate. with a sign of the cross, one should patiently await the dictates of fate!... this was literally the sense of his telegram. such was the attitude and the confusion in the higher ranks of the army. as regards the commanders, who fought unremittingly against the disruption of the army, many of them struggled against the tide of democratisation, as they considered it their duty to the people. they did this in disregard of the success or failure of their efforts, of the blows of fate, or of the dark future, of which some already had a premonition, and which was already approaching with disaster in its train. on they went, with heads erect, misunderstood, slandered and savagely hated, as long as life and courage permitted. chapter xvii. "democratisation of the army"--administration, service and routine. in order to carry out the democratisation of the army and the reform of the war ministry in accordance with the new régime, gutchkov established a commission under the chairmanship of the late war minister, polivanov, who died at riga in , where he was the expert of the soviet government in the delegation for making peace with poland. the commission was composed of representatives of the military commission of the duma and of representatives of the soviet. there was a similar commission in the ministry of the navy under the chairmanship of savitch, a prominent member of the duma. i know more about the work of the first commission, and will therefore dwell upon it. the regulations drafted by the commission were not confirmed until they had been approved by the military section of the executive committee of the soviet, which enjoyed great authority and often indulged in independent military law-making. no future historian of the russian army will be able to avoid mention of the polivanov commission--this fatal institution whose stamp is affixed to every one of the measures which destroyed the army. with incredible cynicism, not far removed from treachery, this institution, comprising many generals and officers appointed by the war minister, systematically and daily introduced pernicious ideas and destroyed the rational foundations of military administration. very often drafts of regulations, which appeared to the government as excessively demagogic and were not sanctioned, appeared in the press and came to the knowledge of the masses of the soldiery. they were instilled into the army, and subsequently caused pressure to be brought to bear upon the government by the soldiery. the military members of the commission seemed to be competing with one another in slavish subservience to the new masters, and endorsed by their authority the destructive ideas. men who reported to the committee have told me that civilians occasionally protested during the debates and warned the committee against going too far, but no such protests ever came from the military members. i fail to understand the psychology of the men, who came so rapidly and unreservedly under the heel of the mob. the list of military members of the commission of the month of may indicates that most of them were staff officers and representatives of other departments, mostly of petrograd (twenty-five); only nine were from the army, and these do not seem to have been drawn from the line. petrograd has its own psychology different from that of the army. the most important and detrimental democratic regulations were passed concerning the organisation of committees, disciplinary action, the reform of the military courts, and, finally, the famous "declaration of the rights of the soldier." _military chiefs were deprived of disciplinary power._ it was transferred to regimental and company disciplinary courts, which also had to settle "misunderstandings" between officers and men. there is no need to comment upon the importance of this curtailment of the disciplinary power of the officers; it introduced complete anarchy in the internal life of regimental units, and the officer was discredited _by the law_. the latter circumstance is of paramount importance, and the revolutionary democracy took full advantage of this procedure in all its attempts at law-making. the reform of the courts aimed at weakening the influence of military judges by appointment upon the course of the trial, the introduction of juries and the general weakening of military justice. field courts-martial were abolished, which meted out quick punishment on the spot for obvious and heavy crimes, such as treason, desertion, etc. the democratisation of the military courts might be excused to a certain extent by the fact that confidence in the officers, having been undermined, it was necessary to create judicial courts of a mixed composition on an elective basis, which in theory were supposed to enjoy to a greater extent the confidence of the revolutionary democracy. but that object was not attained, because the military courts--one of the foundations of order in the army--fell entirely into the hands of the mob. the investigating organs were completely destroyed by the revolutionary democracy, and investigation was strongly resisted by the armed men and sometimes by the regimental revolutionary institutions. the armed mob, which included many criminal elements, exercised unrestrained and ignorant pressure upon the conscience of the judges, and passed sentences in advance of the verdicts of the judges. army corps tribunals were destroyed, and members of the jury who had dared to pass a sentence distasteful to the mob were put to flight. these were common occurrences. the case was heard in kiev of the well-known bolshevik, dzevaltovski, a captain of the grenadier regiment of the guards, who was accused, with seventy-eight other men, of having refused to join in the advance and of having dragged his regiment and other units to the rear. the circumstances of the trial were these: in court there was a mob of armed soldiers, who shouted approval of the accused on his way from the prison to the court. dzevaltovski called, together with his escort, at the local soviet, where he received an ovation. finally, while the jury were deliberating, the armed reserve battalions paraded before the court with the band and sang the "international." dzevaltovski and all his companions were, of course, found "not guilty." military courts were thus gradually abolished. it would be a mistake, however, to ascribe this new tendency solely to the influence of the soviets. it may also be explained by kerensky's point of view. he said: "i think that no results can be achieved by violence and by mechanical compulsion in the present conditions of warfare, where huge masses are concerned. the provisional government in the three months of its existence has come to the conclusion that it is necessary to appeal to the common-sense, the conscience and the sense of duty of the citizens, and that it is the only means of achieving the desired results." in the first days of the revolution the provisional government abolished capital punishment by the ukase of march th. the liberal press greeted this measure with great pathos. articles were written expressing strongly humanitarian views, but scant understanding of realities, of the life of the army, and also scant foresight. v. nabokoff, the russian abolitionist, who was general secretary to the provisional government, wrote: "this happy event is a sign of true magnanimity and of wise foresight.... capital punishment is abolished unconditionally and for ever.... it is certain that in no other country has the moral condemnation of this, the worst kind of murder, reached such enormous proportions as in russia.... russia has joined the states that no longer know the shame and degradation of judicial murder." it is interesting to note that the ministry of justice drafted two laws, in one of which capital punishment was maintained for the most serious military offences--espionage and treason. but the department of military justice, headed by general anushkin, emphatically declared in favour of complete abolition of capital punishment. july came. russia had already become used to anarchist outbreaks, but was nevertheless horror-stricken at the events that took place on the battlefields of galicia, near kalush and tarnopol. the telegrams of the government commissars, savinkov and filonenko, and of general kornilov, who demanded the immediate reintroduction of capital punishment, were as a stroke of a whip to the "revolutionary conscience." on july th, kornilov wrote: "the army of maddened, ignorant men, who are not protected by the government from systematic demoralisation and disruption, and who have lost all sense of human dignity, is in full flight. on the fields, which can no longer be called battlefields, shame and horror such as the russian army has never known reign supreme.... the mild government measures have destroyed discipline, and are provoking the fitful cruelty of the unrestrained masses. these elemental feelings find expression in violence, plunder and murders.... capital punishment would save many innocent lives at the price of a few traitors and cowards being eliminated." on july th the government restored capital punishment and revolutionary military tribunals, which replaced the former field courts-martial. the difference was that the judges were elected (three officers and three men) from the list of the juries or from regimental committees. this measure, the restoration of capital punishment, due to pressure having been brought to bear upon the government by the military command, the commissars, and the committees, was, however, foredoomed to failure. kerensky subsequently tried to apologise to the democracy at the "democratic conference": "wait till i have signed a single death sentence, and i will then allow you to curse me...." on the other hand, the very personnel of the courts and their surroundings, described above, made the very creation of these courts impossible: there were hardly any judges capable of passing a death sentence or any commissars willing to endorse such a sentence. on the fronts which i commanded there were, at any rate, no such cases. after the new revolutionary military tribunals had been functioning for two months, the department of military justice was flooded with reports from military chiefs and commissars on the "blatant infringements of judicial procedure, upon the ignorance and lack of experience of the judges." the disbandment of mutinous regiments was one of the punitive measures carried out by the supreme administration or command. this measure had not been carefully thought out, and led to thoroughly unexpected consequences--it provoked mutinies, prompted by a desire to be disbanded. regimental honour and other moral impulses had long since been characterised as ridiculous prejudices. the actual advantages of disbanding, on the other hand, were obvious to the men: regiments were removed from the firing line for a long time, disbanding continued for months, and the men were sent to new units, which were thus filled with vagabond and criminal elements. responsibility for this measure can be equally divided between the war ministry, the commissars, and the stavka. the whole burden of it finally fell once more upon the guiltless officers, who lost their regiments--which were their families--and their appointments, and were compelled to wander about in new places or find themselves in the desolate condition of the reserve. apart from this undesirable element, units were filled with the late inmates of convict prisons, owing to the broad amnesty granted by the government to criminals, who were to expiate their crimes by military service. my efforts to combat this measure were unavailing, and resulted in the formation of a special regiment of convicts--a present from moscow--and in the formation of solid anarchist cadres in the reserve battalions. the _naïf_ and insincere argument of the legislator that crimes were committed because of the czarist régime, and that a free country would convert the criminal into a self-sacrificing hero, did not come true. in the garrisons, where amnestied criminals were for some reason or other more numerous, they became a menace to the population before they ever saw the front. thus, in june, in the units quartered at tomsk, there was an intense propaganda of wholesale plunder and of the suppression of all authority. soldiers formed large robber bands and terrorized the population. the commissar, the chief of the garrison, and all the local revolutionary organisations started a campaign against the plunderers; after much fighting, no less than , amnestied criminals were turned out of the garrison. reforms were intended to affect the entire administration of the army and of the fleet, but the above-mentioned committees of polivanov and savitch failed to carry them out, as they were abolished by kerensky, who recognised at last all the evil they had wrought. the committees merely prepared the democratisation of the war and naval councils by introducing elected soldiers into them. this circumstance is the more curious because, according to the legislator's intention, these councils were to consist of men of experience and knowledge, capable of solving questions of organisation, service, and routine, of military and naval legislation, and of making financial estimates of the cost of the armed forces of russia. this yearning of the uncultured portion of democracy for spheres of activity foreign to it was subsequently developed on an extensive scale. thus, for example, many military colleges were, to a certain extent, managed by committees of servants, most of whom were illiterate. under the bolshevik régime, university councils numbered not only professors and students, but also hall-porters. i will not dwell upon the minor activities of the committees, the reorganisation of the army, and the new regulations, but will describe the most important measure--the committees and the "declaration of the rights of the soldier." chapter xviii. the declaration of the rights of the soldier and committees. elective bodies from the military section of the soviet to committees and soviets of various denominations in regimental units and in the departments of the army, the fleet and the rear, were the most prominent factor of "democratisation." these institutions were partly of a mixed type, and included both officers and men and partly soldiers and workers' institutions pure and simple. committees and soviets were formed everywhere as the common feature of revolutionary organisations, planned before the revolution and sanctioned by the order no. . elections from the troops to the soviet in petrograd were fixed for february th, and the first army committees came into being on march st, in consequence of the above-mentioned order no. . towards the month of april self-appointed soviets and committees, varying in denomination, personnel and ability, existed in the army and in the rear, and introduced incredible confusion into the system of military hierarchy and administration. in the first month of the revolution the government and the military authorities did not endeavour to put an end to or to restrict this dangerous phenomenon. they did not at first realise its possible consequences, and counted upon the moderating influence of the officer element. they occasionally took advantage of the committees for counteracting acute manifestations of discontent among the soldiers, as a doctor applies small doses of poison to a diseased organism. the attitude of the government and of the military authorities towards these organisations was irresolute, but was one of semi-recognition. on april th, addressing the army delegates, gutchkov said at yassy: "a congress will soon be held of the delegates of all army organisations, and general regulations will then be drawn up. meanwhile, you should _organise as best you can_, taking advantage of the existing organisations and working for general unity." in april the position became so complicated that the authorities could no longer shirk the solution of the question of committees. at the end of march there was a conference at the stavka, attended by the supreme commander-in-chief, the war minister, gutchkov, his assistants, and officers of the general staff. i was also present in my capacity as future chief-of-staff to the supreme c.-in-c. a draft was presented to the conference, brought from sevastopol by the staff-colonel verkhovski (afterwards war minister). the draft was modelled upon the regulations already in force in the black sea fleet. the discussion amounted to the expression of two extreme views--mine and those of colonel verkhovski. the latter had already commenced those slightly demagogic activities by which he had at first gained the sympathies of the soldiers and of the sailors. he had had a short experience in organising these masses. he was persuasive because he used many illustrations--i do not know whether the facts he mentioned were real or imaginary--his views were pliable, and his eloquence was imposing. he idealised the committees, and argued that they were very useful, even necessary and statesmanlike, inasmuch as they were capable of bringing order into the chaotic movements of the soldiery. he emphatically insisted upon the competence and the rights of these committees being broadened. i argued that the introduction of committees was a measure which the army organisation would be unable to understand, and that it amounted to disruption of the army. if the government was unable to cope with the movement, it should endeavour to paralyse its dangerous consequences. with that end in view, i advocated that the activities of the committees should be limited to matters of internal organisation (food supplies, distribution of equipment, etc.), that the officer element should be strengthened, and that the committees should remain within the sphere of the lower grades of the army, in order to prevent them from spreading and acquiring a preponderating influence upon larger formations such as divisions, armies, and fronts. unfortunately, i only succeeded in compelling the conference to accept my views to an insignificant degree, and on march th the supreme c.-in-c. issued an order of the day on the "transition to the new forms of life," and appealing to the officers, men, and sailors wholeheartedly to unite in the work of introducing strict order and solid discipline within the units of the army and navy. the main principles of the regulations were the following: ( ) the _fundamental objects_ of the organisation were (_a_) to increase the fighting power of the army and of the navy in order to win the war; (_b_) to devise new rules for the life of the soldier-citizen of free russia; and (_c_) to contribute to the education of the army and of the fleet. ( ) the _structure_ of the organisation: permanent sections--company, regimental, divisional, and army committees. temporary sections--conferences, attached to the stavka, of army corps, of the fronts, and of the centre. the latter to form permanent soviet. ( ) the conferences to be called by the respective commanding officers or on the initiative of the army committees. all the resolutions of the conferences and committees to be confirmed by the respective military authorities prior to publication. ( ) the _competence_ of the committees was limited to enforcing order and fighting power (discipline, resistance to desertion, etc.), routine (leave, barrack life, etc.), internal organisation (control of food supplies and equipment), and education. ( ) _questions of training_ were unreservedly excluded from discussion. ( ) the _personnel of the committees_ was determined in proportion to elected representatives--one officer to two men. in order to give an idea of the slackening of discipline in the higher ranks i may mention that, immediately after receiving these regulations, and obviously under the influence of army organisations, general brussilov issued the following order: "officers to be excluded from company committees, and in higher committees the proportion lowered from one-third to one-sixth...." in less than a fortnight, however, the war ministry, in disregard of the stavka, published its own regulations, drafted by the famous polivanov committee, with the assistance of soviet representatives. in these new regulations substantial alterations were made: the percentage of officers in committees was reduced; divisional committees abolished; "the taking of rightful measures against abuses by commanding officers in the respective units" were added to the powers of the committees; the company committees were not permitted to discuss the matter of military preparedness and other purely military matters affecting the unit, but no such reservation was made with regard to regimental committees; the regimental commanding officer was entitled to appeal against but not to suspend the decisions of the committee; finally, the committees were given the task of negotiating with political parties of every description in the matter of sending delegates, speakers, and pamphlets explaining the political programme before the elections to the constituent assembly. these regulations, which were tantamount to converting the army in war-time into an arena of political strife and depriving the commanding officer of all control over his unit, constituted, in fact, one of the main turning points on the path of destruction of the army. the following appreciation of these regulations by the anarchist, makhno (the order of the day of one of his subordinate commanders of november th, ), is worthy of note: "as any party propaganda at the present moment strongly handicaps the purely military activities of the rebel armies, i emphatically declare to the population that all party propaganda is strictly prohibited pending the complete victory over the white armies...." several days later, in view of a protest from the stavka, the war ministry issued orders for the immediate suspension of the regulations concerning the committees. where the committees had already been formed, they were allowed to carry on in order to avoid misunderstandings. the ministry decided to alter the section of the regulations concerning the committees, in accordance with the orders of the supreme commander-in-chief, in which fuller consideration was given to the interests of the troops. thus, in the middle of april there was an infinite variety in the organisation of the army. some institutions were illegal, others were sanctioned by the stavka, and others still by the war ministry. all these contradictions, changes, and re-elections might have led to ridiculous confusion had not the committees simplified matters: they simply cast off all restrictions and acted arbitrarily. wherever troops or army departments were quartered among the population local soldiers' soviets or soviets of soldiers and workmen were formed, which recognised no regulations, and were particularly intent upon covering deserters and mercilessly exploiting municipalities, zemstvos, and the population. the authorities never opposed them, and it was only at the end of august that the war ministry lost patience with the abuses of these "institutions of the rear," and informed the press that it _intended_ to undertake the drafting of special regulations concerning these institutions. who were the members of the committees? the combatant element, living for and understanding the interests of the army and imbued with its traditions, was scantily represented. valour, courage and a sense of duty were rated very low on the market of soldiers' meetings. the masses of the soldiery, who were, alas! ignorant, illiterate, and already demoralised and distrusted their chiefs, elected mostly men who imposed on them by smooth talking, purely external political knowledge derived from the revelation of party propaganda; chiefly, however, by shamelessly bowing to the instincts of the men. how could a real soldier, appealing to the sense of duty, to obedience and to a struggle for the mother country, compete with such demagogues? the officers did not enjoy the confidence, they did not wish to work in the committees, and their political education was probably inadequate. in the higher committees one met honest and sensible soldiers more often than officers, because a man wearing a soldier's tunic was in a position to address the mob in a manner in which the officer could never dare to indulge. the russian army was henceforward administered by committees formed of elements foreign to the army and representing rather socialist party organs. it was strange and insulting to the army that congresses of the front, representing several million combatants and many magnificent units with a long and glorious record, and comprising officers and men of whom any army might be proud, were held under the chairmanship of such men as civilian jews and georgians, who were bolsheviks, mensheviks, or social revolutionaries--posner on the western front, gegetchkory on the caucasian, and doctor lordkipanitze on the roumanian. * * * * * what, then, were these army organisations doing that were supposed to reconstruct "the freest army in the world"? i will quote a list of questions discussed at conferences of the front and which influenced the front and army committees: ( ) the attitude towards the government, the soviet and the constituent assembly. ( ) the attitude towards war and peace. ( ) the question of a democratic republic as a desirable form of government. ( ) the question of the land. ( ) the labour question. these intricate and burning political and social questions, to which a radical solution was being given and which created partisanship and class strife, were thus introduced into the army that was facing a strong and cruel enemy. the effect was self-evident. but even in strictly military matters certain utterances were made at the conference at minsk, which attracted the particular attention of the military and civil authorities, and caused us gravely to ponder. it was suggested that the rank of officer, individual disciplinary power, etc., should be abolished, and that the committees should be entitled to remove commanding officers of whom they disapproved. from the very first days of their existence the committees fought stubbornly to obtain full power not only with regard to the administration of the army, but even for the formula: "all power to the soviets." at first, however, the attitude of the army committees towards the provisional government was perfectly loyal, and the lower the committee the more loyal it was. the petrograd papers of march th were full of resolutions proclaiming unrestricted obedience to the provisional government, of telegrams greeting and of records of delegations sent by the troops, who were perturbed by rumours of the opposition of the soviet. this attitude later underwent several changes, due to the propaganda of the soviet. a powerful influence was exercised by the resolution of the congress of soviets, which i have already quoted, and which appealed to the russian revolutionary democracy to organise under the guidance of the soviets and to be prepared to resist all the attempts of the government to avoid the control of the democracy or the fulfilment of their pledges. the higher committees indulged chiefly in political activities and in the strengthening of revolutionary tendencies in the army, while the lower committees gradually became absorbed in matters of service and routine, and were weakening and discrediting the authority of the commanding officers. the right to remove these officers was practically established, because the position of those who had received a vote of censure became intolerable. thus, for instance, on the western front, which i commanded, about sixty senior officers resigned--from army corps to regimental commanders. what was, however, infinitely more tragic was the endeavour of the committees, on their own initiative and under pressure from the troops, to interfere with purely military and technical orders, thus rendering military operations difficult or even impossible. the commanding officer who was discredited, fettered and deprived of power, and, therefore, of responsibility, could no longer confidently lead the troops into the field of victory and death.... as there was no authority the commanding officers were compelled to have recourse to the committees, which sometimes did exercise a restraining influence over the licentious soldiery, resisted desertion, smoothed friction between officers and men, appealed to the latter's sense of duty--in a word, tried to arrest the collapse of the crumbling structure. these activities of some of the committees still misled their apologists, including kerensky. it is no use to argue with men who think that a structure may be erected by one laying bricks one day and pulling them to pieces on the next. the work, overt and unseen, of army committees, alternating between patriotic appeals and internationalist watchwords, between giving assistance to commanding officers and dismissing them, between expressions of confidence in, or of distrust of, the provisional government, and ultimatums for new boots or travelling allowances for members of committees.... the historian of the russian army, in studying these phenomena, will be amazed at the ignorance of the elementary rules governing the very existence of an armed force, which was displayed by the committees in their decisions and in their writings. the committees of the rear and of the fleet were imbued with a particularly demagogic spirit. the baltic fleet was in a state approaching anarchy all the time; the black sea fleet was in a better condition, and held out until june. it is difficult to estimate the mischief made by these committees and soviets in the rear, scattered all over the country. their overbearing manner was only comparable with their ignorance. i will mention a few examples illustrating these activities. the regional committee of the army, the fleet and the workmen of finland issued a declaration in may, in which, not content with the autonomy granted to finland by the provisional government, they demanded her complete independence, and declared that "they would give every support to all the revolutionary organisations working for a speedy solution of that question." the central committee of the baltic fleet, in conjunction with the above-mentioned committee, made a declaration, which coincided with the bolshevik outbreak in petrograd in the beginning of june. they demanded "all power to the soviets. we shall unite in the revolutionary struggle of our working democracy for power, and will not allow the ships to be called out by the provisional government for the suppression of the mutiny to leave petrograd." the committee of the minsk military district, shortly before the advance, gave leave to all the reservists to proceed to their farms. i gave orders for the trial of the committee, but the order was of no avail, because, in spite of all my representations, the war ministry had not established any legal responsibility for the committees, whose decisions were recorded by vote and occasionally by secret ballot. i will mention yet another curious episode. the committee of one of the cavalry depôts on my front decided that horses should be watered only once a day, so most of the horses were lost. it would be unjust to deny that the organisations of the rear occasionally did adopt reasonable measures, but these instances are few indeed, and they were drowned in the general wave of anarchy which these organisations had raised. the attitude of the committees towards the war, and in particular towards the proposed advance, was, of course, a momentous matter. in chapter x. i have already described the self-contradictions of the soviets and congresses, as well as the ambiguous and insincere directions which they gave to the army organisations, and which amounted to the acceptance of war and of the advance, but without victory. the same ambiguity prevailed in the high committees, with the exception, however, of the committee of our western front, which passed in june a truly bolshevik resolution to the effect that war has been engendered by the plundering policy of the government; that the only means of ending the war was for the united democracies of all countries to resist their governments; and that a decisive victory of one or the other of the contending groups of powers would only tend to increase militarism at the expense of democracy. as long as the front was quiet the troops accepted all these discourses and resolutions in a spirit of comparative indifference. but when the time came for the advance, many people thought of saving their skins, and the ready formulas of defeatism proved opportune. besides the committees, who were continuing to pass patriotic resolutions, certain organisations reflecting the views of the units of the army, or their own, violently opposed the idea of an advance. entire regiments, divisions, and even army corps, especially on the northern and western russian fronts, refused to conduct preparatory work or to advance to the firing line. on the eve of the advance we had to send large forces for the suppression of units that had treacherously forgotten their duty. i have already mentioned the attitude of many senior commanders towards the committees. the best summary of these views can be found in the appeal of general fedotov, in temporary command of an army, to the army committee: "our army is at present organised as no other army in the world.... elected bodies play an important part. we--_the former leaders_--can only give the army our military knowledge of strategy and tactics. you--the committees--are called upon to organise the army and to create its internal strength. great indeed is the part which you--the committees--are called upon to play in the creation of a new and strong army. history will recognise this...." before the army organisations were sanctioned the commander of the caucasian front issued an order for the decisions of the self-appointed tiflis soldiers' soviet to be published in the orders of the day, and for all regulations appertaining to the organisation and routine of the army to be sanctioned by that soviet. is one to wonder that such an attitude of a certain portion of the commanding staffs gave an excuse and a foundation for the growing demands of the committees? as regards the western and south-western fronts, which i commanded, i definitely refused to have anything to do with the committees, and suppressed, whenever possible, such of their activities as were contrary to the interests of the army. one of the prominent commissars, a late member of the executive committee of the soviet, stankevitch, wrote: "theoretically, it became increasingly apparent that either the army must be abolished or else the committees. in practice, one could do neither one nor the other. the committees were a vivid expression of the incurable sociological disease of the army, and a sign of its certain collapse and paralysis. was it not for the war ministry to hasten the death by a resolute and hopeless surgical operation?" the once great russian army of the first period of the revolution dwindled inevitably to nothing under such conditions as these: there was no mother country. the leader had been crucified. in his stead a group appeared at the front of five defensists and three bolsheviks, and made an appeal to the army: "forward, to battle for liberty and for the revolution, but ... without inflicting a decisive defeat upon the enemy," cried the former. "down with the war and all power to the proletariat!" shouted the others. the army listened and listened, but would not move. and then ... it dispersed! [illustration: the conference of commanders-in-chief. standing on the pathway, from left to right: generals denikin, danilov, hanjin. seated (left): doukhonin, gourko, brussilov. centre: alexeiev. right: dragomirov, scherbatchev.] [illustration: a group of "prisoners" at berdichev. from left to right: captain kletzando, general elsner, general vannovsky, general denikin, general erdeli, general markov, general orlov.] chapter xix. the democratisation of the army: the commissars. the next measure for the democratisation of the army was the introduction of the institution of commissars. the idea was derived from the history of the french revolutionary wars, and was fostered in various circles at different times; it was prompted chiefly by _distrust of the commanding staffs_. pressure was brought to bear from below. the conference of the delegates of the front addressed an emphatic demand to the soviet in the middle of april that commissars should be introduced in the army. the excuse was that it was no longer possible to preserve order in respect of the attitude of the men towards individual commanding officers, and that, if cases of arbitrary dismissal had as yet been avoided, it was only due to the fact that the army expected the soviet and the government to take the necessary steps and did not wish to handicap their work. at the same time, the conference suggested the absurd idea of the simultaneous appointment to the army of three kinds of commissars: ( ) from the provisional government, ( ) from the soviets, and ( ) from the army committees. the conference went very far in their demands, and demanded that the commissariats, as controlling organs, should: discuss _all_ matters appertaining to the competence of the commanders of armies and fronts; counter-sign _all_ army orders; investigate the activities of the commanding staffs, with the right to recommend their dismissal. protracted negotiations on this matter ensued between the soviet and the government, and at the end of april it was agreed that commissars would be appointed to the army--one from the provisional government and one from the soviet. this decision, however, was subsequently altered, probably as the result of the formation of a coalition ministry (may th). one commissar was appointed by agreement between the government and the soviet. he represented both these bodies, and was responsible to them. at the end of june the provisional government introduced the office of commissar of the fronts, and thus defined their function: according to the instructions of the war ministry, they were to see that all political questions arising within the armies of the front should be given a uniform solution, and that the work of the army commissars should be co-ordinated. at the end of july a final touch was given by the appointment of a high commissar attached to the stavka, and the entire official correspondence was concentrated in the political section of the war ministry. no law, however, was passed defining the rights and the duties of the commissars. the commanding staffs, at any rate, were unaware of such laws, and this alone gave rise to all the misunderstandings and conflicts that followed. the commissars had secret instructions to watch the commanding staffs and headquarters in respect of their political reliability. from that point of view the democratic régime went further, perhaps, than the autocratic. of this i became convinced during my command of the western and south-western fronts, in reading the telegrams exchanged between the commissariats and petrograd. these telegrams--may the commissars forgive me!--were handed to me, de-coded, by my staff, immediately after their despatch. this part of the commissars' duty required a certain training in political intelligence, but their overt duties were infinitely more complex: they demanded statesmanship, a clear knowledge of the aims to be pursued, an understanding of the psychology, not merely of the officers and men, but of the senior commanding staff, acquaintance with the fundamental principles of service and routine in the army, great tact, and, finally, the personal qualities of courage, strong will, and energy. only such qualifications were capable of mitigating to a certain degree the disastrous consequences of a measure which deprived (to be more accurate, sanctioned the deprivation of) the commanding officers of the possibility of influencing the troops--that influence being the only means of strengthening the hope and faith in victory. such elements were not to be found, unfortunately, in the circles connected with the government and the soviet and enjoying their confidence. the personnel of the commissars whom i met may be described thus: war-time officers, doctors, solicitors, newspaper men, exiles and _emigrés_ completely out of touch with russian life, members of militant revolutionary organisations, etc. these men had, obviously, inadequate knowledge of the army. all these men belonged to socialist parties, from social-democrat mensheviks to the group "edinstvo" (unity), war party blinkers, and very often did not follow the political lines of the government because they considered themselves tied by soviet and party discipline. owing to political differences of opinion, the attitude of the commissars towards the war also varied. stankevitch, one of the commissars, who carried out his duties in his own way most conscientiously, when proceeding to visit an advancing division was beset with doubts: "the soldiers believe that we do not wish to deceive them; they force themselves, therefore, to forget their doubts, and they go forward to death and murder. but we, are we entitled not only to encourage them, but to take upon ourselves the decision?" according to savinkov (who was commissar of the seventh army of the south-western front, and later war minister), not all the commissars agreed upon the question of bolshevism, and not all of them considered a resolute struggle against the bolsheviks possible or desirable. savinkov was an exception. although not a soldier by profession, he was steeled in struggle and wanderings, in constant danger, and his hands were stained with the blood of political victims. this man, however, understood the laws of the struggle, threw off the yoke of the party, and fought more resolutely than others against the disorganisation of the army. but the personal touch in his attitude towards the events was somewhat too marked. none of the commissars, with the exception of very few men of the savinkov type, displayed personal strength or energy. they were men of words, not of deeds. their lack of training would not have had such negative results had it not been for the fact that, their functions not being clearly defined, they gradually began to interfere with every feature of the life and service of the troops, partly on their own initiative, partly at the instigation of the men and of the army committees, and partly even of commanding officers, who were trying to escape responsibility. questions of appointments, dismissals, and even operative plans attracted the attention of the commissars, not only from the point of view of "covert counter-revolution," but from the point of view of practicability. the confusion in their minds was so great that the weaker elements among the commanding staffs were sometimes completely disheartened. i remember one case during the july retreat on the south-western front. one of the army corps commanders rashly destroyed a well-equipped military railway, thereby placing the army in an exceedingly difficult position. he was dismissed by the army commander, and afterwards expressed to me his sincere astonishment: "why had he been dismissed? he had acted--upon the instructions of the commissar." the commissars carried out the ideas of the soviet and whole-heartedly defended the sacred newly-acquired rights of the soldier, but failed to fulfil their primary duty--direct the political life of the army. very often the most destructive propaganda was permitted. soldiers' meetings and committees were allowed to pass all kinds of anti-national and anti-government resolutions, and the commissars only interfered when the tension of the atmosphere resulted in an armed mutiny. such a policy puzzled the troops, the committees, and the commanding officers. the institution of commissars did not attain its purpose. among the soldiers the commissars could not be popular because they were to a certain extent an instrument of compulsion, and occasionally of suppression. at the same time, the extent of their power was not well defined, and they could not gain proper authority over the most undisciplined units. this was confirmed later after the seizure of power by the bolsheviks, when the commissars were the first to flee from their posts in a great hurry and in secret. there thus appeared in the russian army, instead of one authority, three different authorities, which excluded one another--the commanding officer, the committee, and the commissar. they were shadowy authorities. another authority was overhanging, and was oppressing them morally with all its insensate weight--the power of the mob. * * * * * in examining the question of the new institutions--commissars and committees--and of their bearing upon the destinies of the russian army, i have done so solely from the point of view of the preservation of our armed forces as an important factor in the future of our country. it would, however, be a mistake to overlook the connection between these measures and the entirety of laws which govern the life of the people and the course of the revolution. these measures, moreover, bear the stamp of logic and of inevitability owing to the part which the revolutionary democracy had chosen to play. therein lies the tragedy of the situation. the socialist democracy did not possess any elements sufficiently trained to become the instruments of army administration. at the same time, it did not have the courage or the possibility to quell the resistance of the bourgeois democracy and of the commanding staffs, and to compel them to work for the glorification of socialism, as the bolsheviks afterwards did, who forced the remnants of the russian _intelligencia_ and of the officers to serve communism by applying methods of sanguinary and ruthless extermination. when the revolutionary democracy actually assumed power and set up to fulfil certain aims it was well aware of the fact that those elements in the administration and the command who were called upon to carry out these aims did not share the views of the revolutionary democracy. hence the inevitable distrust of these elements and the desire to weaken their influence and their authority. what methods did the democracy have recourse to? as the central revolutionary organ was utterly devoid of statesmanship and of patriotism, it applied in its struggle against political opponents destructive methods, completely disregarding the fact that by these methods they were destroying the country and the army. another circumstance must be borne in mind--the revolution that had shaken the state to its very foundations and upset the established class relations occurred at the moment when the flower of the nation--over , , men--were under arms. elections to the constituent assembly were impending. in these circumstances it was impossible to avoid politics being introduced into the army, as it is impossible to arrest the course of a river. but it would have been possible to divert it to proper channels. in this matter, however, the two contending forces (that which wished to preserve the state and the demagogic force) also collided, as both endeavoured to influence the attitude of the army, which was a decisive factor in the revolution. these were the propositions which pre-ordained and explained the subsequent course of the democratisation of the army. the socialist democracy, which governed at first behind the scenes and then overtly, was endeavouring to strengthen its position and to bow to the instincts of the crowd, destroyed the military power and connived at the institution of elective military organisations, which were less dangerous and more open to its influence than the commanding staffs, although they did not answer the requirements of the soviet. the necessity of military authority of some sort was clearly realised. the commanding staffs were distrusted, and there was a desire to create a buffer between the two artificially separated elements of the army. these considerations inspired the creation of the office of commissars, who bore the dual responsibility before the soviet and the government. neither the men nor the officers were satisfied with these institutions, which fell together with the provisional government, were revived with certain modifications in the red army, and once again swept away by the tide of events. "peoples cannot choose their institutions, as man cannot choose his age. peoples obey the institutions to which they are tied by their past, their creed, by the economic laws and surroundings in which they live. there are many examples in history when the people have destroyed by violent revolution the institutions which it has taken a dislike for. but there is not a case in history of these new institutions forcibly imposed upon the people becoming permanent and solid. after a while the past comes again into force, because we are created entirely by that past and it is our supreme ruler."[ ] it is obvious that the russian national army will be revived not only on democratic, but on historical foundations. chapter xx. the democratisation of the army--the story of "the declaration of the rights of the soldier." the ill-famed law, emanating from the polivanov committee and known as the "declaration of the rights of the soldier," was confirmed by kerensky on may th. i will give the main points of that law: ( ) "all soldiers of the army enjoy full rights of citizenship." ( ) every soldier is entitled to the membership of any political, national, religious, economic, or professional organisation, society or union. ( ) every soldier off duty has the right freely and openly to express in word, writing, or in the press his political, religious, social and other views. ( ) all printed matter (periodicals and other) should be delivered to the addressees. ( ) soldiers are not to be appointed as orderlies. officers are entitled to have one servant, appointed by mutual consent (of the soldier and of the officer); wages also to be settled by mutual consent, but there should be no more than one servant to each officer, army doctor, army clerk, or priest. ( ) saluting is abolished for men as well as for units. ( ) no soldier is to be punished or fined without trial. at the front the commanding officer is entitled, on his own responsibility, to take the necessary steps, including armed force, against disobedient subordinates. such steps are not to be considered as disciplinary punishments. internal administration, punishments, and control in cases defined by army regulations, belong to elective army organisations. this "declaration of rights," of which the above is but a brief summary, gave official sanction to the malady with which the army was stricken, and which spread in varying degrees owing to mutinies, violence, and "by revolutionary methods," as the current expression goes. it dealt a death-blow to the old army. it introduced boundless political discussions and social strife into the unbalanced armed masses which had already become aware of their rough physical power. "the declaration" admitted and sanctioned wide propaganda by speech and pamphlet of anti-national, immoral and anti-social doctrines, and even the doctrines that repudiated the state and the very existence of the army. finally, it deprived commanding officers of disciplinary power, which was handed over to elective bodies, and once again insulted and degraded the commanding staff. in his remarks attached to the text of the "declaration," kerensky says: "let the freest army and navy of the world prove that there is strength and not weakness in liberty, let them forge a new iron discipline of duty and raise the armed power of the country." and the "great silent one," as the french picturesquely describe the army, began to talk and to shout louder and louder still, enforcing its demands by threats, by arms, and by shedding the blood of those who dared to resist its folly. at the end of april the final draft of the "declaration" was sent by gutchkov to the stavka for approval. the supreme commander-in-chief and myself returned an emphatic disapproval, in which we gave vent to all our moral sufferings and our grief for the dark future of the army. our conclusion was that the "declaration" "was the last nail driven into the coffin which has been prepared for the russian army." on may st gutchkov resigned from the war ministry, as he did not wish "to share the responsibility for the heavy sin which was committed against the mother country," and in particular to sign the "declaration." * * * * * the stavka sent copies of the draft "declaration" to the commander-in-chief of the fronts for reference, and they were called by general alexeiev to moghilev, in order to discuss the fateful position. this historical conference took place on may nd. the speeches, in which the collapse of the russian army was described, were restrained and yet moving, as they reflected deep sorrow and apprehension. brussilov, in a low voice expressing sincere and unfeigned pain, ended thus: "all this can yet be borne, and there still remains some hope of saving the army and leading it forward, provided the 'declaration' is not issued. if it is, there is no salvation, and i would not remain in office for a single day." this last sentence provoked a warm protest from general stcherbatchov, who argued that no one should resign, that, however arduous and hopeless the position may be, the leaders cannot abandon the army.... somebody suggested that all the commanders-in-chief should immediately proceed to petrograd, and address to the provisional government a stern warning and definite demands. the general who suggested this thought that such a demonstration would produce a very strong impression and might arrest the progress of destructive legislation. others thought that it was a dangerous expedient and our last trump card, and that, should the step prove ineffective, the high command would be definitely discredited. the suggestion, however, was accepted, and, on the th may, a conference took place of all the commanders-in-chief (with the exception of the caucasian front), the provisional government, and the executive committee of the soviet. i am in possession of the record of that conference, of which i give extensive extracts below. the condition of the army, such as it appeared to its leaders, in the course of events, and without, therefore, any historical perspective, is therein described, as well as the characteristics of the men who were then in power. the trend of the speeches made by the commander-in-chief was the same as in the stavka, but they were less emphatic and less sincere. brussilov smoothed over his accusations, lost his pathos, "warmly greeted the coalition ministry," and did not repeat his threat of resignation. the record. _general alexeiev._--i consider it necessary to speak quite frankly. we are all united in wishing for the good of our country. our paths may differ, but we have a common goal of ending the war in such a manner as to allow russia to come out of it unbroken, albeit tired and suffering. only victory can give us the desired consummation. only then will creative work be possible. but victory must be achieved, and that is only possible if the orders of the commanding officers are obeyed. if not, it is not an army, but a mob. to sit in the trenches does not mean to reach the end of the war. the enemy is transferring, in great haste, division after division from our front to the franco-british front, and we continue to sit still. meanwhile, the conditions are most favourable for our victory, but we must advance in order to win it. our allies are losing faith in us. we must reckon with this in the diplomatic sphere, and i particularly in the military one. it seemed as if the revolution would raise our spirits, would give us impetus, and therefore victory. in that, unfortunately, we have so far been mistaken. not only is there no enthusiasm or impetus, but the lowest instincts have come to the fore, such as self-preservation. the interests of the mother country and its future are not being considered.... you will ask what has happened to the authority, to principles, or even to physical compulsion? i am bound to state that the reforms to which the army has as yet failed to adapt itself have shaken it, have undermined order and discipline. discipline is the mainstay of the army. if we follow that path any further there will be a complete collapse.... the commanders-in-chief will give you a series of facts describing the condition of the armies. i will offer a conclusion and will give expression to our desires and demands, which must be complied with. _general brussilov._--i must first of all describe to you the present condition of the officers and men. cavalry, artillery and engineering troops have retained about per cent. of their cadres. but in the infantry, which is the mainstay of the army, the position is entirely different. owing to enormous casualties in killed, wounded and prisoners, as well as many deserters, some regiments have changed their cadres nine or ten times, so that only from three to ten men remain of the original formation. reinforcements are badly trained and their discipline is still worse. of the regular officers from two to four remain and in many cases they are wounded. other officers are youngsters commissioned after a short training and enjoying no authority owing to their lack of experience. it is upon these new cadres that the task has fallen to remodel the army on a new basis, and that task has so far proved beyond their capacity. although we felt that a change was necessary and that it had already come too late, the ground was nevertheless unprepared. the uneducated soldier understood it as a deliverance from the officers' yoke. the officers greeted the change with enthusiasm. had this not been so, the revolution may not have probably passed so smoothly. the result, however, was that freedom was only given to the men, whereas the officers had to be content to play the part of pariahs of liberty. the unconscious masses were intoxicated with liberty. everyone knows that extensive rights have been granted, but they do not know what these rights are, and nobody bothers about duties. the position of the officers is very difficult. from to per cent. have rapidly adapted themselves to the new conditions, because they believed that these conditions were all to the good. those of the officers who were trusted by the men did not lose that trust. some, however, became too familiar with the men, were too lenient and even encouraged internal dissensions amongst the men. but the majority of the officers, about per cent., were unable to adapt themselves. they were offended, retired to the background and do not know what to do now. we are trying to bring them into contact with the soldiers once more, because we need the officers for continued fighting, and we have no other cadres. many of the officers have no political training, do not know how to make speeches--and this, of course, handicaps the work of mutual understanding. it is necessary to explain and to instil into the masses the idea that freedom has been granted to _everyone_. i have known our soldiers for forty-five years, i love them and i will do my best to bring them into close touch with the officers, but the provisional government, the duma and particularly the soviet should also make every effort in order to assist in that work which must be done as soon as possible in the interests of the country. it is also necessary, owing to the peculiar fashion in which the illiterate masses have understood the watchword "without annexations and indemnities." one of the regiments has declared that not only would it refuse to advance, but desired to leave the front and to go home. the committees opposed this tendency, but were told that they would be dismissed. i had a lengthy argument with the regiment, and when i asked the men whether they agreed with me, they begged leave to give me a written answer. a few minutes later they presented to me a poster: "peace at any price and down with the war." in the course of a subsequent talk i had with one of the men, he said to me: "if there are to be no annexations, why do we want that hill top?" my reply was: "i also do not want the hill top, but we must beat the enemy who is occupying it." finally, the men promised to hold on, but refused to advance, arguing that "the enemy is good to us and has informed us that he will not advance provided we do not move. it is important that we should go home to enjoy freedom and the land. why should we allow ourselves to be maimed?" is it to be an offensive or a defensive campaign? success can be only obtained by an offensive. if we conduct a passive defence the front is bound to be broken. if discipline is strong a break-through may yet be remedied. but we must not forget that we have no well-disciplined troops, that they are badly trained and that the officers have no authority. in these circumstances an enemy success may easily become a catastrophe. the masses must, therefore, be persuaded that we must advance instead of remaining on the defensive. we thus have many shortcomings, but numerical superiority is still on our side. if the enemy succeeds in breaking the french and the british, he will throw his entire weight upon us and we will then be lost. we need a strong government upon which we could rely, and we whole-heartedly greet the coalition government. the power of the state can only be strong when it leans upon the army, which represents the armed forces of the nation. _general dragomirov._--the prevailing spirit in the army is the desire of peace. anyone might be popular in the army who would preach peace without annexations and would advocate self-determination. the illiterate masses have understood the idea of "no annexations" in a peculiar fashion. they do not understand the conditions of different peoples, and they repeatedly ask the question: "why do not the allied democracies join in our declarations?" the desire for peace is so strong that reinforcements refuse to accept equipment and arms and say: "they are no good to us as we do not intend to fight." work has come to a standstill and it is even necessary to see to it that trenches are not dismantled and that roads are mended. in one of the best regiments we found, on the sector which it had occupied, a red banner inscribed: "peace at all costs." the officer who tore that banner had to flee for his life. during the night men from that regiment were searching for the officer at dvinsk, as he had been concealed by the headquarters staff. the dreadful expression "adherents of the old régime" caused the best officers to be cast out of the army. we all wanted a change, and yet many excellent officers, the pride of the army, had to join the reserve simply because they tried to prevent the disruption of the army, but failed to adapt themselves to the new conditions. what is much more fatal is the growth of slackness and of a lingering spirit. egoism is reaching terrible proportions, and each unit thinks only of its own welfare; endless deputations come to us daily, demanding to be relieved, to remove commanding officers, to be re-equipped, etc. all these deputations have to be addressed, and this hinders our work. orders that used to be implicitly obeyed now demand lengthy arguments; if a battery is moved to a different sector, there is immediate discontent, and the men say: "you are weakening us--you are traitors." owing to the weakness of the baltic fleet, we found it necessary to send an army corps to the rear to meet the eventual landing of an enemy force, but we were unable to do so, because the men said: "our line is long enough as it is and if we lengthen it still more we will be unable to hold the enemy." formerly we had no difficulty whatsoever in regrouping the troops. in september, , eleven army corps were removed from the western front, and this saved us from a defeat which might have decided the fate of the war. at present such a thing would be impossible, as every unit raises objections to the slightest move. it is very difficult to compel the men to do anything in the interests of the mother country. regiments refuse to relieve their comrades in the firing line under various excuses--such as bad weather, or the fact that not all their men had had their baths. on one occasion a unit refused to go to the front on the plea that it had already been in the firing line at easter time. we are compelled to ask the committees of various regiments to argue the matter out. only a small minority of officers is behaving in an undignified manner, trying to make themselves popular by bowing to the instincts of the men. the system of elections has not been introduced in its entirety, but many unpopular officers have been summarily dismissed as they were accused of being adherents to the old régime; other commanding officers, who had been considered incompetent and liable to dismissal, have been made to stay. it was quite impossible not to grant the demands for their retention. with regard to excesses there have been individual cases of shootings of officers.... things cannot continue on these lines. we want strong power. we have fought for the country. you have taken the ground from under our feet. will you kindly restore it? our obligations are colossal, and we must have the power in order to be able to lead to victory the millions of soldiers who are entrusted to our care. _general stcherbatchov._--the illiteracy of the soldiery is the main reason of all these phenomena. it is not, of course, the fault of our people that it is illiterate. for this the old régime is entirely responsible, as it looked upon education from the point of view of the ministry of the interior. nevertheless, we have to reckon with the fact that the masses do not understand the gravity of our position, and that they misinterpret even such ideas as may be considered reasonable.... if we do not wish russia to collapse, we must continue the struggle and we must advance. otherwise we shall witness a grotesque sight. the representatives of oppressed russia fought heroically; but having overthrown the government that was striving for peace with dishonour, the citizens of free russia are refusing to fight and to safeguard their liberties. this is grotesque, strange, incomprehensible. but it is so. the reason is that discipline has gone and there is no faith in the commanding officers. mother country, to most men, is an empty sound. these conditions are most painful, but they are particularly painful on the roumanian front, where one has to reckon not only with military surroundings of specific difficulty, but also with a very complex political atmosphere. our people are used to plains, and the mountainous nature of the theatre of war has a depressing effect upon the troops. we often hear the complaint: "do not keep us in these cursed mountains." we have only one railway line to rely upon for supplies, and have great difficulty in feeding the troops. this, of course, enhances discontent. the fact that we are fighting on roumanian territory is interpreted as a fight "for roumania," which is also an unpopular idea. the attitude of the local population is not always friendly, and the men come to the conclusion that they are being refused assistance by those on whose behalf they are fighting. friction thus arises and deepens, because some of the roumanians blame us for the defeats which they have themselves suffered and owing to which they have lost most of their territory and of their belongings. the roumanian government and the allied representatives are well aware of the ferment in our army, and their attitude towards us is changing. i personally noticed that a shadow has fallen between us, and that the former respect and faith in the prowess of the russian army have vanished. i still enjoy great authority, but if the disruption of the army continues not only shall we lose our allies but make enemies of them, and there would then be a danger of peace being made at our expense. in we advanced across the whole of galicia. in , in our retreat, we took at the south-western front , prisoners. you may judge what that retreat was like and what was the spirit of the troops. in the summer of we saved italy from disaster. is it possible that we may now abandon the allied cause and be false to our obligations? the army is in a state of disruption, but that can be remedied. should we succeed, within a month and a half our brave officers and men would advance again. history will wonder at the inadequate means with which we achieved brilliant results in . if you wish to raise the russian army and to convert it into a strong organised body which will dictate the terms of peace, you must help us. all is not lost yet, but only on condition that the commanding officers will regain prestige and confidence. we hope that full powers in the army will once again be vested in the supreme commander-in-chief, who alone can manage the troops. we will obey the will of the provisional government, but you must give us strong support. _general gourko._--if you wish to continue the war till the desired end, you must restore the power of the army. we have received the draft of the "declaration" (of the rights of the soldier). gutchkov would not sign it and has resigned. i am bound to say that if a civilian has resigned and refused to sign that declaration--to us, the army chiefs, it is inacceptable. it simply completely destroys everything that is left. i will recount to you an episode which occurred while i was temporarily holding the office of chief-of-staff of the supreme c.-in-c. on february th i had a long talk with the late czar, trying to persuade him to grant a responsible ministry. as a last trump card, i alluded to our international position, to the attitude of our allies and to the probable consequences of this measure. but my card was already beaten. i will now endeavour to describe our international position. we have no direct indication of the attitude of our allies towards our intentions to give up the struggle. we cannot, of course, force them to express their innermost thoughts. as in time of war, one is often compelled to come to a decision "for the enemy," i will now try to argue "for the allies." it was easy to begin the revolution, but we have been submerged by its tidal wave. i trust that common sense will help us to survive this. if not, if the allies realise our impotence, the principles of practical policy will force upon them the only issue--a separate peace. that would not be on their part a breach of obligations, because we had promised to fight together and have now come to a standstill. if one of the parties is fighting and the other is sitting in the trenches, like a chinese dragon, waiting for the result of the fight--you must agree that the fighting side may begin to think of making separate peace. such a peace would, of course, be concluded at our expense. the austrians and the germans can get nothing from our allies: their finance is in a state of collapse and they have no natural riches. our finances are also in a state of collapse, but we have immense untouched natural resources. our allies would, of course, come to such a decision only as a last resort, because it would be not peace, but a lengthy armistice. bred as they are upon the ideals of the nineteenth century, the germans, having enriched themselves at our expense, would once again fall upon us and upon our late allies. you may say that if this is possible why should we not conclude a separate peace first. here i will mention first of all the moral aspect of the question. the obligation was undertaken by russia, not merely by the late autocrat. i was aware--long before you had heard of it--of the duplicity of the czar, who had concluded soon after the russo-japanese war of - an alliance with the emperor william, while the franco-russian alliance was still in existence. the free russian people, responsible for its acts, cannot renounce its obligations. but setting aside the moral aspect, there remains the material problem. if we open negotiations they cannot remain secret, and our allies would hear of it within two or three days. they would also enter into a parley, and a kind of auction sale would begin. the allies are, of course, richer than ourselves, but on their side the struggle has not yet ended; besides, our enemies could get much more at our expense. it is precisely from the international point of view that we must prove our capacity for a continued struggle. i will not continue to revolutionise the army, because if i should we might find ourselves powerless not only to advance but even to remain on the defensive. the latter is infinitely more difficult. in we retreated and orders were obeyed. you were entitled to expect this, because we had trained the army. the position has now been altered; you have created something new and have deprived us of power. you can no longer hold us responsible, and the responsibility must fall heavily upon your heads. you say that the revolution is still proceeding. listen to us. we are better acquainted with the psychology of the troops, we have gone with them through thick and thin. stop the revolution and give us, the military chiefs, a chance to do our duty and to bring russia to such a condition in which you may continue your work. otherwise, we will hand over to you not russia, but a field in which our enemies will sow and reap, and democracy itself will curse you. it will be democracy that will suffer if the germans win. democracy will be starving--while the peasants will always manage to feed themselves on their own land. it was said of the old régime that it "played into the hands of william." will it be possible to level the same accusation against you? william is fortunate indeed, as both monarchs and democracies are playing into his hands. the army is on the eve of disruption. our mother country is in danger and is nearing a collapse. you must help. it is easy to destroy, and if you know how to destroy--you should also know how to rebuild. _general alexeiev._--the main points have been stated, and they are true. the army is on the brink of the abyss. another step and it will fall into the abyss and will drag along russia and all her liberties, and there will be no return. everyone is guilty, and the guilt lies heavily upon all that has been done in that direction for the last two and a half months. we have made every effort and are now devoting all our strength to the task of restoring the army. we trust that mr. kerensky will apply all his qualities of mind and character and all his influence to that consummation, and will help us. but that is not enough. those who have been disrupting the army must also help. those who have issued the order no. must issue a series of orders and comments. if the "declaration" is published, as gutchkov said, the last flimsy foundations will fall into dust and the last hope will be dashed. be patient, there is time still. that which has been granted in the last two and a half months has not as yet taken root. we have regulations defining rights and duties. all the regulations that are issued nowadays only mention rights. you must do away with the idea that peace will come by itself. those who say "down with the war" are traitors, and those who say "there should be no advance" are cowards. we still have men with sincere convictions. let them come to us not as passing stars, but let them live with us and dispel the misunderstandings that have arisen. you have the press. may it encourage patriotism and demand that everyone do his duty. _prince lvov._--we have heard the commanders-in-chief, we understand all they have said and will do our duty to our country till the end. _tzeretelli._--there is no one here who has contributed to the disruption of the army and played into the hands of william. i have heard the accusation that the soviet has contributed to the disruption of the army. and yet everyone agrees that the soviet is the only institution that enjoys authority at present. what would happen were there no soviet? fortunately, democracy has come to the rescue and we still have hope in salvation. what can you do? there are only two paths for you to follow. one is to reject the policy of the soviets. but you would then have no source of power wherewith to hold the army and to lead it for the salvation of russia. your other path is the true path, which we have tried; the path of unity with the desires and expectations of the people. if the commanding officers have failed to make it quite clear that the whole strength of the army for the defence of the country lay in the advance, there is no magic wand capable of doing it. it is alleged that the watchword "without annexations or indemnities" has demoralised the army and the masses. it is quite likely that it has been misunderstood, but it should have been explained that this was the ultimate aim; we cannot renounce that watchword. we are aware that russia is in danger, but her defence is a matter for the people as a whole. the power must be united and must enjoy the confidence of the people, but this can only be achieved if the old policy is completely discarded. unity can only be based on confidence, which cannot be bought. the ideals of the soviet are not those of separate and small groups--they are the ideals of the country. to renounce them is to renounce the country. you might, perhaps, understand order no. if you knew the conditions in which it was issued. we were confronted with an unorganised mob and we had to organise it. the masses of the soldiery do not wish to go on with the war. they are wrong, and i cannot believe that they are prompted by cowardice. it is the result of distrust. discipline should remain. but if the soldiers realise that you are not fighting against democracy, they will trust you. by this means the army may yet be saved. by this means the authority of the soviet will be strengthened. there is only one way of salvation, the way of confidence and of the democratisation of the country and of the army. it is by accepting those principles that the soviet has gained the confidence of the people and is now in a position to carry out its ideas. as long as that is so, not all is lost. you must try to enhance the confidence in the soviet. _skobelev._--we have not come here to listen to reproaches. we know what is going on in the army. the conditions which you have described are undoubtedly ominous. it will depend upon the spirit of the russian people whether the ultimate goal will be reached and whether we shall come out of the present difficulty with honour. i consider it necessary to explain the circumstances in which order no. was issued. in the troops which had overthrown the old régime, the commanding officers had not joined the mutineers; we were compelled to issue that order so as to deprive these officers of authority. we were anxious about the attitude of the front towards the revolution and about the instructions that were being given. we have proved to-day that our misgivings were not unfounded. let us speak the truth: the activities of the commanding staff have prevented the army, in these two and a half months, from understanding the revolution. we quite realise the difficulties of your position. but when you say that the revolution must be stayed, we are bound to reply that the revolution cannot begin or end to order. revolution may take its normal course when the mental process of the revolution spreads all over the country, when it is understood by the per cent. of illiterate people. far be it from us to demand that all commanding officers be elected. we agree with you that we have power and have succeeded in attaining it. when you will understand the aims of the revolution and will help the people to understand our watchword, you will also acquire the necessary power. the people must know what they are fighting for. you are leading the army for the defeat of the enemy, and you must explain that a strategical advance is necessary in order that the watchwords that have been proclaimed may be vindicated. we trust the new war minister and hope that a revolutionary minister will continue our work and will hasten the mental process of the revolution in the heads of those who think too slowly. _the war minister--kerensky._--as minister and member of the government, i must say that we are trying to save the country and to restore the fighting capacity and activities of the russian army. _we assume responsibility, but we also assume the right to lead the army_ and to show it the path of future development. nobody has been uttering reproaches here. everyone has described what he has lived through and has tried to define the causes of events, but our aims and desires are the same. the provisional government recognises that the soviet has played a prominent part and admits its work of organisation--otherwise i would not be war minister. no one can level accusations at the soviet. but no one can accuse the commanding staffs either, because the officers have borne the brunt of the revolution quite as much as the rest of the russian people. everyone understands the position. now that my comrades are joining the government, it will be easier to attain our common aims. there is but one thing for us to do--to save our freedom. i will ask you to proceed to your commands and to remember that the whole of russia stands behind you and behind the army. it is our aim to give our country complete freedom. but this cannot be done unless we show the world at large that we are strong in spirit. _general gourko_ (replying to skobelev and tzeretelli).--we are discussing the matter from different angles. discipline is the fundamental condition of the existence of the army. the percentage of losses which a unit may suffer without losing its fighting capacity is the measure of its endurance. i have spent eight months in the south african republics and have seen regiments of two different kinds: ( ) small, disciplined and ( ) volunteer, undisciplined. the former continued to fight and did not lose their fighting power when their losses amounted to per cent. the latter, although they were volunteers who knew what they were fighting for, left the ranks and fled from the battlefield after losing per cent. no force on earth could induce them to fight. that is the difference between disciplined and undisciplined troops. we demand discipline. we do all we can to persuade. but your authoritative voice must be heard. we must remember that if the enemy advances, we shall fall to pieces like a pack of cards. if you will not cease to revolutionise the army--you must assume power yourselves. _prince lvov._--our ends are the same and everyone will do his duty. i thank you for your visit and for giving us your views. * * * * * the conference came to a close. the commanders-in-chief rejoined their fronts, fully conscious that the last card had been beaten. at the same time, the soviet orators and the press started a campaign of abuse against generals alexeiev, gourko and dragomirov, which rendered their resignations imperative. on the th of may, as i already mentioned, kerensky confirmed the "declaration" while issuing an order of the day on the inadmissibility of senior commanding officers relinquishing their posts "in order to shirk responsibility." what was the impression produced by that fateful order? kerensky _afterwards_ tried to adduce the excuse that the regulation was drafted before he had assumed office and was approved of by the executive committee as well as by "military authorities," and that he had no reason to refuse to confirm it; in a word, that he was compelled to do so. but i recall more than one of kerensky's speeches in which, believing his course to be the right one, he prided himself on his courage in issuing a declaration "which gutchkov had not dared to sign, and which had evoked the protests of all the commanding officers." on may th the executive committee of the soviets responded to the declaration by an enthusiastic proclamation which dwelt mainly upon the question of saluting. poor, indeed, was the mind that inspired this verbiage: "two months we have waited for this day.... now the soldier is by law a citizen.... henceforward the citizen soldier is free from the servile saluting, and will greet anyone he chooses as an equal and free man.... in the revolutionary army discipline will live through popular enthusiasm ... and not by means of compulsory saluting...." such were the men who undertook to reorganise the army. as a matter of fact, the majority of the revolutionary democracy of the soviets were not satisfied with the declaration. they described it as "a new enslavement of the soldier," and a campaign was opened for further widening of these rights. members of the defencist coalition demanded that the regimental committees should be empowered to challenge the appointments of the commanding officers and to give them attestations, as well as that freedom of speech should be granted on service. their chief demand, however, was for the exclusion of paragraph of the declaration entitling the commanding officer to use arms in the firing line against insubordination. i need hardly mention the disapproval of the left, "defeatist" section of the soviet. the liberal press utterly failed to appraise the importance of the declaration and never treated it seriously. the official organ of the constitutional democratic party (_retch_, may th) had an article which expressed great satisfaction that the declaration "afforded every soldier the chance of taking part in the political life of the country, definitely freed him from the shackles of the old régime and led him from the stale atmosphere of the old barracks into the fresh air of liberty." it also said that "throughout the world all other armies are remote from politics, whilst the russian army will be the first to enjoy the fullness of political rights." even the conservative paper (_novoc vremia_) said in a leading article: "it is a memorable day; to-day the great army of mighty russia becomes truly the army of the revolution.... intercourse between warriors of all ranks will henceforward be placed upon the common foundation of a sense of duty binding on every citizen, irrespective of rank. and the revolutionary army of regenerated russia will go forward to the great ordeal of blood with faith in victory and in peace." difficult, indeed, was the task of the commanding officers who were endeavouring to preserve the army when they found that the fundamental principles upon which the very existence of the army depended were misunderstood so grossly, even in circles which had heretofore been considered as the mainstay of russian statesmanship. the commanding officers were still more disheartened, and the army fell into the abyss with ever-increasing rapidity. chapter xxi. the press and propaganda. in the late world war, along with aeroplanes, tanks, poison gases and other marvels of military _technique_, a new and powerful weapon came to the fore, viz: _propaganda_. strictly speaking, it was not altogether new, for as far back as canning said, in the house of commons: "should we ever have to take part in a war we shall gather under our flag all the rebels, all those who, with or without cause, are discontented in the country that goes against us." but now this means of conflict attained an extraordinary development, intensity and organisation, attacking the most morbid and sensitive points of national psychology. organised on a large scale, supplied with vast means, the propaganda organs of great britain, france and america, especially those of great britain, carried on a terrible warfare by word of mouth, in the press, in the films and ... with gold, extending this warfare over the territories of the enemy, the allies and the neutrals, introducing it into all spheres--military, political, moral and economic. the more so, that germany especially gave grounds enough for propaganda to have a plentiful supply of irrefragable, evidential material at its disposal. it is difficult to enumerate, even in their general features alone, that enormous arsenal of ideas which, step by step, drop by drop, deepened class differences, undermined the power of the state, sapped the moral powers of the enemy and their confidence in victory, disintegrated their alliance, roused the neutral powers against them and finally raised the falling spirits of their allied peoples. nevertheless, we should not attach exceptional importance to this external moral pressure, as the leaders of the german people are now doing, to justify themselves: germany has suffered a political, economic, military and moral defeat. it was only the interaction of all these factors that determined the fatal issue of the struggle, which, towards its end, became a lingering death-agony. one could only marvel at the vitality of the german people, which, by its intellectual power and the stability of its political thought, held out so long, until at last, in november, , "a double death-blow, both at the front and in the rear," laid it in the dust. in connection with this, history will undoubtedly note a great analogy between the parts played by the "revolutionary democracies" of russia and of germany in the destinies of these peoples. after the _débâcle_ the leader of the german independent social democrats acquainted the country with the great and systematic work which they had carried on, from the beginning of , for the breaking down of the german army and navy, to the glory of the social revolution. in this work one is struck by the similarity of method and _modus operandi_ with those practised in russia. while unable to resist british and french propaganda, the germans were very successful in applying this means to their eastern antagonist, the more so that: "russia created her own misfortunes," said ludendorff, "and the work which we carried on there was not too hard." the results of the interaction of the skilful hand of germany with the movements which arose, less from the fact itself of the revolution than from the individual character of the russian rebellion, exceeded the highest hopes of the germans. the work was carried on in three directions--political, military and social. in the first we note the idea, quite clearly and definitely formulated and systematically carried out by the german government, _of the dismemberment of russia_. its realisation took shape in the proclamation, on november , , of the kingdom of poland[ ] _with a territory which was to extend eastward "as far as possible"_; in the creation of the states of courland and lithuania--"independent," but in union with germany; in the sharing of the white russian provinces between poland and lithuania, and, finally, in the prolonged and very persistent preparation of the secession of little russia, which took place later, in . while the former facts had a meaning only in principle, concerning, as they did, territories actually occupied by the germans and defined the character of the future "annexations," the attitude assumed by the central powers with respect to little russia exercised a direct influence on the stability of our south-western front, creating political complications in the country and separatist tendencies in the army. i shall return to this question later. the german headquarters included an excellently organised "press-bureau," which, besides influencing and directing the home press, also guided german propaganda, which penetrated mainly into russia and france. miliukov quotes a circular issued by the german foreign office to all its representatives in neutral countries: "you are informed that on the territory of the country to which you are accredited, special offices have been instituted for the organisation of propaganda in the states, now fighting with the german coalition. the propaganda will be engaged in exciting the social movement and, in connection with the latter, strikes, revolutionary outbreaks, separatism, among the constituent parts of these states, and civil war, as well as agitation in favour of disarmament and the cessation of the present sanguinary slaughter. you are instructed to afford all possible protection and support to the directors of the said propaganda offices." it is curious that, in the summer of , the british press took up arms against sir george buchanan and the british propaganda ministry for their inertness in the matter of influencing the democracy of russia and of fighting german propaganda in that country. one of the papers pointed out that the british bureau of russian propaganda had at its head a novelist and literary beginners who had "as much idea of russia as of chinese metaphysics." as for us, neither in our government departments nor at the stavka did we have any organ whatever which was even in some degree reminiscent of the mighty western propaganda institutions. one of the sections of the quartermaster-general's department had charge of technical questions, concerning relations with the press, and was left without importance, influence, or any active task. the russian army, well or badly, fought in primitive ways, without ever having recourse to that "poisoning of the enemy's spirit," which was so widely practised in the west. and it paid for this with superfluous torrents of blood. but if opinions may differ regarding the morality of destructive propaganda, we cannot but note our complete inertness and inactivity in another and perfectly pure sphere. we did absolutely nothing to acquaint foreign public opinion with the exceptionally important part played by russia and the russian army in the world war, with the enormous losses suffered and the sacrifices made by the russian people, with those constant majestic deeds of self-sacrifice, incomprehensible, perhaps, to the cold understanding of our western friends, which the russian army made whenever the allied front was within a hair's-breadth of defeat.... such a want of comprehension of the part played by russia i have met with almost everywhere, in wide social circles, long after the conclusion of peace, in my wanderings over europe. the following small episode is a burlesque, but very characteristic instance of this. on a banner presented to marshal foch "from american friends" are depicted the flags of all countries, lands and colonies, which in one way or another came within the orbit of the entente; the russian flag occupies the forty-sixth place, after hayti and uruguay and immediately after san-marino. is this ignorance or triviality? we did nothing to lay a firm moral foundation for national unity during our occupation of galicia, did not draw public opinion to our side during the occupation of roumania by the russian troops, did nothing to restrain the bulgarian people from betraying the interests of the slavonic races. finally, we took no advantage of the presence on russian soil of an enormous number of prisoners, to give them at least a correct idea of russia. the stavka, firmly barricaded within the sphere of purely military questions connected with the carrying out of the campaign, made no attempt to gain any influence over the general course of political events, which agrees completely with the service idea of a national army. but, at the same time, the stavka distinctly avoided influencing the public spirit of the country so as to lead this powerful factor to moral co-operation in the struggle. there was no connection with the leading organs of the press, which was represented at the stavka by men possessing neither weight nor influence. when the thunderstorm of the revolution broke and the political whirlwind swept up and convulsed the army, the stavka could remain inert no longer. it had to respond. the more so, that suddenly no source of moral power was to be found in russia which might have protected the army. the government, especially the war office, rushed irresistibly down the path of opportunism; the soviets and the socialist press undermined the army; the bourgeois press now cried "videant consules ne quid imperio detrimenti caparet," now naïvely rejoiced at the "democratisation and liberation" which were taking place. even in what might have been considered the competent spheres of the higher military bureaucracy of petrograd there reigned such a variety of views, as plunged the public opinion of the country into perplexity and bewilderment. it turned out, however, that for the conflict the stavka possessed neither organisation nor men, neither technique nor knowledge and experience. and, worst of all, the stavka was in some way or other shoved and thrown aside by the madly-careering chariot of life. its voice grew weaker and sank into silence. [illustration: the old army: a review. general ivanov.] [illustration: the revolutionary army: a review. kerensky.] the second quartermaster-general--general markov--had a serious task before him--he had to create the necessary apparatus, to establish communications with the important papers, to supply the stavka with a "megaphone" and raise the condition of the army press, which was leading a wretched existence and which the army organisations were trying to destroy. markov took up the task warmly, but failed to do anything serious, as he only remained in office two months. every step of the stavka in this direction called forth from the revolutionary democracy a disingenuous accusation of counter-revolutionary action. and liberal bourgeois moscow, to which he turned for aid, in the form of intellectual and technical assistance in his task, replied with eloquent promises, but did absolutely nothing. thus the stavka had no means at all, not only for actively combating the disintegration of the army, but for resisting german propaganda, which was spreading rapidly. * * * * * ludendorff says frankly and with a national egotism rising to a high degree of cynicism: "i did not doubt that the _débâcle_ of the russian army and the russian people was fraught with great danger for germany and austria-hungary.... _in sending lenin to russia_ our government assumed an enormous responsibility! this journey was justified from a military point of view; _it was necessary that russia should fall_. but our government should have taken measures that this should not happen to germany."[ ] even now the boundless sufferings of the russian people, now "out of the ranks," did not call forth a single word of pity or regret from its moral corrupters.... with the beginning of the campaign, the germans altered the direction of their work with respect to russia. without breaking their connections with the well-known reactionary circles at court, in the government and in the duma, using all means for influencing these circles and all their motives--greed, ambition, german atavism, and sometimes a peculiar understanding of patriotism--the germans entered at the same time into close fellowship with the russian revolutionaries in the country, and especially abroad, amongst the multitudinous emigrant colony. directly or indirectly, all were drawn into the service of the german government--great agents in the sphere of spying and recruiting, like parvus (helfand); provocateurs, connected with the russian secret police, like blum; propaganda agents--oulianoff (lenin), bronstein (trotsky), apfelbaum (zinovieff), lunacharsky, ozolin, katz (kamkoff), and many others. and in their wake went a whole group of shallow or unscrupulous people, cast over the frontier and fanatically hating the _régime_ which had rejected them--hating it to the degree of forgetfulness of their native land, or squaring accounts with this _régime_, acting sometimes as blind tools in the hands of the german general staff. what their motives were, what their pay, how far they went--these are details; what is important is that they sold russia, serving those aims which were set before them by our foe. they were all closely interlaced with one another and with the agents of the german secret service, forming with them one unbroken conspiracy. the work began with a widespread revolutionary and separatist (ukrainian) propaganda among the prisoners of war. according to liebknecht, "the german government not only helped this propaganda, but carried it on itself." these aims were served by the committee of revolutionary propaganda, founded in at the hague by the union for the liberation of the ukraine in austria by the copenhagen institute (parvus's organisation), and a whole series of papers of a revolutionary and defeatist character, partly published at the expense of the german staff, partly subsidised by it--the _social democrat_ (geneva--lenin's paper), _nashe slovo_ (paris--trotsky's paper), _na tchoozhbeenie_ (geneva--contributions from tchernoff, katz and others), _russkii viestnik_, _rodnaya retch_, _nedielia_, and so forth. similar to this was the activity--the spread of defeatist and revolutionary literature, side by side with purely charitable work--of the committee of intellectual aid to russian prisoners of war in germany and austria (geneva), which was in connection with official moscow and received subsidies from it. to define the character of these publications it is enough to quote two or three phrases expressing the views of their inspirers. lenin said in the _social democrat_: "the least evil will be the defeat of the czarist monarchy, the most barbarous and reactionary of all governments." tchernoff, the future minister of agriculture, declared in the _mysl_ that he had one fatherland only--the international! along with literature the germans invited lenin's and tchernoff's collaborators, especially from the editorial staff of _na tchoozhbeenie_, to lecture in the camps, while a german spy, consul von pelche, carried on a large campaign for the recruiting of agitators for propaganda in the ranks of the army--among the russian emigrants of conscript age and of left wing politics. all this was but preparatory work. the russian revolution opened boundless vistas for german propaganda. along with honest people, once persecuted, who had struggled for the good of the people, there rushed into russia all that revolutionary riff-raff which absorbed the members of the russian secret police, the international informers and the rebels. the petrograd authorities feared most of all the accusation of want of democratic spirit. miliukov, as minister, stated repeatedly that "the government considers unconditionally possible the return to russia of all emigrants, regardless of their views on the war and independently of their registration in the international control list."[ ] this minister carried on a dispute with the british, demanding the release of the bolsheviks, bronstein (trotsky), zourabov and others, who had been arrested by the british. matters were more complicated in the case of lenin and his supporters. despite the demands of the russian government, the allies would undoubtedly have refused to let them through. therefore, as ludendorff acknowledges, the german government despatched lenin and his companions (the first group consisted of seventeen persons) to russia, allowing them free transit through germany. this undertaking, which promised extraordinarily important results, was richly financed with gold and credit through the stockholm (ganetsky-fuerstenberg) and copenhagen (parvus) centres and through the russian siberian bank. that gold which, as lenin expressed it, "does not smell." in october, , bourtsev published a list of persons brought through germany to russia by order of the german general staff. nearly all of them, according to bourtsev, "were revolutionaries who, during the war, had carried on a defeatist campaign in switzerland and were now william's voluntary or involuntary agents." many of them at once assumed a prominent position in the social democratic party, in the soviet, the committee[ ] and the bolshevik press. the names of lenin, tsederbaum (martov), lunacharsky, natanson, riazanov, apfelbaum (zinoviev) and others soon became the most fateful in russian history. on the day of lenin's arrival in petrograd the german paper _die woche_ devoted an article to this event, in which he was called "a true friend of the russian people and an honourable antagonist." and the cadet semi-official organ, the _retch_, which afterwards boldly and unwaveringly waged war against the lenin party, greeted his arrival with the words: "such a generally acknowledged leader of the socialist party ought now to be in the arena, and his arrival in russia, whatever opinion may be held of his views, should be welcomed." on april rd lenin arrived in petrograd, where he was received with much state, and in a few days declared his theses, part of which formed the fundamental themes of german propaganda: "down with war and all power to the soviet!" lenin's first actions seemed so absurd and so clearly anarchistic that they called forth protests not only in the whole of the liberal press, but also in the greater part of the socialist press. but, little by little, the left wing of the revolutionary democracy, reinforced by german agents, joined overtly and openly in the propaganda of its chief, without meeting any decisive rebuff either from the double-minded soviet or the feeble government. the great wave of german and mutinous propaganda engulfed more and more the soviet, the committee, the revolutionary press, and the ignorant masses, and was reflected, consciously or unconsciously, even among those who stood at the helm of the state. from the very first lenin's organisation, as was said afterwards, in july, in the report of the procurator of the petrograd high court of justice, "aiming at assisting the states warring against russia in their hostile actions against her, entered into an agreement with the agents of the said states to forward the disorganisation of the russian army and the russian rear, for which purpose it used the financial means received from these states to organise a propaganda among the population and the troops ... and also, for the same purpose, organised in petrograd, from july rd to th, an armed insurrection against the supreme power existing in the state." the stavka had long and vainly raised its voice of warning. general alexeiev had, both personally and in writing, called on the government to take measures against the bolsheviks and the spies. several times i myself applied to the war office, sending in, among other things, evidential material concerning rakovsky's spying and documents certifying the treason of lenin, skoropis-yoltoukhovsky and others. the part played by the union for the liberation of the ukraine (of which, besides others, melenevsky and v. doroshenko were members)[ ] as an organisation of the central powers for propaganda, spying and recruiting for "setch ukraine units," was beyond all doubt. in one of my letters (may th), based on the examination of a russian officer, yermolenko, who had been a prisoner of war and had accepted the part of a german agent for the purpose of disclosing the organisation, the following picture was revealed: "yermolenko was transferred to our rear, on the front of the sixth army, to agitate for a speedy conclusion of a separate peace with germany. yermolenko accepted this commission at the insistence of his comrades. two officers of the german general staff, schiditzky and lubar, informed him that a similar agitation was being carried on in russia by the sectional president of the union for the liberation of the ukraine, a. skoropis-yoltoukhovsky, and by lenin, as agents of the german general staff. lenin had been instructed to seek to undermine by all means the confidence of the russian people in the provisional government. the money for this work was received through one svendson, an employee of the german embassy in stockholm. these methods were practised before the revolution also. our command turned its attention to the somewhat too frequent appearance of "escaped prisoners." many of them having surrendered to the enemy, passed through a definite course of intelligence work, and having received substantial pay and "papers," were permitted to pass over to us through the line of trenches. being altogether unable to decide what was a case of courage and what of treachery, we nearly always sent all escaped prisoners from the european to the caucasian front. all the representations of the high command as to the insufferable situation of the army, in the face of such vast treachery, remained without result. kerensky carried on free debates in the soviet with lenin on the subject whether the country and the army should be broken down or not, basing his action on the view that he was the "war minister of the revolution," and that "freedom of opinion was sacred to him, whencesoever it might proceed." tzeretelli warmly defended lenin: "i do not agree with lenin and his agitation. but what has been said by deputy shulgin is a slander against lenin, _never has lenin called for actions which would infringe upon the course of the revolution. lenin is carrying on an idealist propaganda._" this much-talked-of freedom of opinion extremely simplified the work of german propaganda, giving rise to such an unheard-of phenomenon as the open preaching in german, at public meetings and in kronstadt, of a separate peace and of distrust of the government, by an agent of germany, the president of the zimmerwald and kienthal conference, robert grimm!... what a state of moral prostration and loss of all national dignity, consciousness, and patriotism is presented by the picture of tzeretelli and skobelev "vouching" for the _agent provocateur_; of kerensky importuning the government to grant grimm the right of entry into russia; of tereshtchenko permitting it, and of russians listening to grimm's speeches--without indignation, without resentment. during the bolshevik insurrection of july the officials of the ministry of justice, exasperated by the laxity of the leaders of the government, decided, with the knowledge of their minister, pereverzev, to publish my letter to the minister of war and other documents, exposing lenin's treason to his country. the documents being a statement signed by two socialists, alexinsky and pankratov, were given to the printers. the premature disclosure of this fact called forth a passionate protest from tchkheidze and tzeretelli, and terrible anger on the part of the ministers nekrassov and tereshtchenko. the government forbade the publication of information which sullied the good name of comrade lenin, and had recourse to reprisals against the officials of the ministry of justice. however, the statement appeared in the press. in its turn the executive committee of the soviet of workmen's and soldiers' delegates exhibited a touching care, not only for the inviolability of the bolsheviks, but even for their honour, by issuing on july th a special appeal calling on people "to refrain from the spreading of accusations reflecting dishonour" on lenin and "other political workers" pending the investigation of the matter by a special commission. this consideration was openly expressed in a resolution passed by the central executive committees (on july th), which, while condemning the attempt of the anarchist-bolshevist elements to overthrow the government, expressed the fear that the "inevitable" measures to which the government and the military authorities must have recourse ... would create a basis for the demagogic agitation of the counter-revolutionaries who, for the time being, gathered round the flag of the revolutionary régime, but who might pave the way for a military dictatorship." however, the exposure of the direct criminal participation of the leaders of bolshevism in acts of mutiny and treason may have obliged the government to begin repressions. lenin and apfelbaum (zinoviev) escaped to finland, while bronstein (trotsky), kozlovsky, raskolnikov, remniov, and many others were arrested. several anarchist-bolshevist newspapers were suspended. these repressions, however, were not of a serious character. many persons known to have been leaders in the mutiny were not charged at all, and their work of destruction was continued with consistency and energy. * * * * * while carrying the war into our country the germans persistently and methodically put into practice another watchword--peace at the front. fraternisation had taken place earlier as well, before the revolution; but it was then due to the hopelessly wearisome life in the trenches, to curiosity, to a simple feeling of humanity even towards the enemy--a feeling exhibited by the russian soldier more than once on the battlefield of borodino, in the bastions of sevastopol, and in the balkan mountains. fraternisation took place rarely, was punished by the commanders, and had no dangerous tendencies in it. but now the german general staff organised it on a large scale, systematically and along the whole front, with the participation of the higher staff organs and the commanders, with a detailed code of instructions, which included the observation of our forces and positions, the demonstration of the impressive armament and strength of their own positions, persuasion as to the aimlessness of the war, the incitement of the russian soldiers against the government and their commanders, in whose interest exclusively this "sanguinary slaughter" was being continued. masses of the defeatist literature manufactured in germany were passed over into our trenches, and at the same time agents of the soviet and the committee travelled quite freely along the front with similar propaganda, with the organisation of "exhibition fraternisation," and with whole piles of _pravda_, _trench pravda_, _social democrat_, and other products of our native socialist intellect and conscience--organs which, in their forceful argumentation, left the jesuitical eloquence of their german brethren far behind. at the same time a general meeting of simple "delegates from the front" in petrograd was passing a resolution in favour of allowing fraternisation for the purpose of revolutionary propaganda among the enemy's ranks! one cannot read without deep emotion of the feelings of kornilov, who, for the first time after the revolution, in the beginning of may, when in command of the eighth army, came into contact with this fatal phenomenon in the life of our front. they were written down by nezhintsev, at that time captain of the general staff and later the gallant commander of the kornilov regiment, who in fell in action against the bolsheviks at the storm of ekaterinodar. "when we had got well into the firing zone of the position," writes nezhintsev, "the general (kornilov) looked very gloomy. his words, 'disgrace, treason,' showed his estimate of the dead silence of the position. then he remarked: "'do you feel all the nightmare horror of this silence? you understand that we are watched by the enemy artillery observers and that we are not fired at. yes, the enemy are mocking us as weaklings. can it be that the russian soldier is capable of informing the enemy of my arrival at the position?' "i was silent, but the sacred tears in the eyes of this hero touched me deeply, and at this moment i vowed in my mind that i would die for him and for our common motherland. general kornilov seemed to feel this. he turned to me suddenly, pressed my hand, and turned away, as if ashamed of his momentary weakness. "the acquaintance of the new commander with the infantry began with the units in the reserve, when formed in rank, holding a meeting and replying to all appeals for the necessity of an advance by pointing out how useless it was to continue a bourgeois war, carried on by 'militarists.' when, after two hours of fruitless discussion, general kornilov, worn out morally and physically, proceeded to the trenches, he found a scene there which could scarcely have been foreseen by any soldier of this age. "we entered into a system of fortifications where the trench-lines of both sides were separated or, more correctly, joined by lines of barbed wire.... the appearance of general kornilov was greeted ... by a group of german officers, who gazed insolently on the commander of the russian army; behind them stood some prussian soldiers. the general took my field-glasses and, ascending the parapet, began to examine the arena of the fights to come. when someone expressed a fear that the prussians might shoot the russian commander, the latter replied: "'i would be immensely glad if they did; perhaps it might sober our befogged soldiers and put an end to this shameful fraternisation.' "at the positions of a neighbouring regiment the commander of the army was greeted by the _bravura_ march of a german jaeger regiment, to whose band our 'fraternising' soldiers were making their way. with the remark, 'this is treason!' the general turned to an officer standing next him, ordering the fraternisers from both sides to be told that if this disgraceful scene did not cease at once he would turn the guns loose on them. the disciplined germans ceased playing and returned to their own trenches, seemingly ashamed of the abominable spectacle. but our soldiers--oh! they held meetings for a long time, complaining of the way their 'counter-revolutionary commanders oppressed their liberty.'" in general i do not cherish feelings of revenge. yet i regret exceedingly that general ludendorff left the german army prematurely, before its break-up, and did not experience directly in its ranks those inexpressibly painful moral torments which we russian officers have suffered. [illustration: before the battle in the revolutionary army: a meeting.] [illustration: types of men in the revolutionary army.] besides fraternisation, the enemy high command practised, on an extensive scale and with provocatory purpose, the dispatch of flags of truce directly to the troops, or rather to the soldiers. thus, about the end of april on the dvinsk front there came with a flag of truce a german officer, who was not received. he managed, however, to address to the crowd of soldiers the words: "i have come to you with offers of peace, and am empowered to speak even with the provisional government, but your commanders do not wish for peace." these words were spread rapidly, and caused agitation among the soldiers and even threats to desert the front. therefore when, a few days later, in the same section, _parliamentaires_ (a brigade commander, two officers, and a bugler) made their appearance again, they were taken to the staff quarters of the fifth army. it turned out, of course, that they had no authorisations, and could not even state more or less definitely the object of their coming, since "the sole object of the pseudo-_parliamentaires_ appearing on our front," says an order of the commander-in-chief, "has been to observe our dispositions and our spirit, and, by a lying exhibition of their pacific feelings, to incline our troops to an inaction profitable to the germans and ruinous to russia and her freedom." similar cases occurred on the fronts of the eighth, ninth, and other armies. it is characteristic that the commander-in-chief of the eastern german front, prince leopold of bavaria, found it possible to take a personal part in this course of provocation. in two radiograms, bearing the systematic character of the customary proclamations and intended for the soldiers and the soviet, he stated that the high command was ready to meet half-way "the repeatedly expressed desire of the russian soldiers' delegates to put an end to bloodshed"; that "military operations between us (the central powers) and russia could be put an end to _without russia breaking with her allies_"; that "if russia wants to know the particulars of our conditions, let her give up her demand for their publication...." and he finishes with a threat: "does the new russian government, instigated by its allies, wish to satisfy itself whether divisions of heavy guns are still to be found on our eastern front?" earlier, when leaders did discreditable things to save their armies and their countries, at least they were ashamed of it and kept silence. nowadays military traditions have undergone a radical change. to the credit of the soviet it must be said that it took a proper view of this provocationary invitation, saying in reply: "the commander-in-chief of the german troops on the eastern front offers us 'a separate truce and secrecy of negotiations.' but russia knows that the _débâcle_ of the allies will be the beginning of the _débâcle_ of her own army, and the _débâcle_ of the revolutionary troops of free russia would mean not only new common graves, but the failure of the revolution, the fall of free russia." * * * * * from the very first days of the revolution a marked change naturally took place in the attitude of the russian press. it expressed itself on the one hand in a certain differentiation of all the bourgeois organs, which assumed a liberal-conservative character, the _tactics_ of which were adopted by an inconsiderable part of the socialist press, of the type of plekhanov's _yedinstvo_; and on the other in the appearance of an immense number of socialist organs. the organs of the right wing underwent a considerable evolution, a characteristic indication of which was the unexpected declaration of a well-known member of the _novoye vremya_ staff, mr. menshikov: "we must be grateful to destiny that the monarchy, which for a thousand years has betrayed the people, has at last betrayed itself and put a cross on its own grave. to dig it up from under that cross and start a great dispute about the candidates for the fallen throne would be, in my opinion, a fatal mistake." in the course of the first few months the right press partly closed down--not without pressure and violence on the part of the soviets--partly it assumed a pacific-liberal attitude. it was only in september, , that its tone grew extremely violent in connection with the final exposure of the weakness of the government, the loss of all hope of a legal way out of the "no thoroughfare" which had arisen, and the echoes of kornilov's venture. the attacks of the extremist organs on the government passed into solid abuse of it. though differing in a greater or lesser degree in its understanding of the social problems which the revolution had to solve, though guilty, perhaps, along with russian society, of many mistakes, yet the russian liberal press showed an exceptional unanimity in the more important questions of a constitutional and national character: full power to the provisional government, democratic reforms in the spirit of the programme of march nd,[ ] war until victory along with the allies, an all-russia constituent assembly as the source of the supreme power and of the constitution of the country. in yet another respect has the liberal press left a good reputation behind it in history: in the days of lofty popular enthusiasm, as in the days of doubt, vacillation and general demoralisation, which distinguished the revolutionary period of , no place was found in it, nor in the right press either, for the distribution of german gold.... the appearance, on a large scale, of the new socialist press was accompanied by a series of unfavourable circumstances. it had no normal past, no traditions. its prolonged life below the surface, the exclusively destructive method of action adopted by it, its suspicious and hostile attitude towards all authority, put a certain stamp on the whole tendency of this press, leaving too little place and attention for creative work. the complete discord in thought, the contradictions and vacillation which reigned both within the soviet and also among the party groups and within the parties, were reflected in the press, just as much as the elemental pressure from below of irresistible, narrowly egotistic class demands; for neglect of these demands gave rise to the threat, which was once expressed by the "beauty and pride of the revolution," the kronstadt sailors to tchernov, the minister: "if you will not give us anything, michael alexandrovitch will." finally, the press was not uninfluenced by the appearance in it of a number of such persons as brought into it an atmosphere of uncleanness and perfidy. the papers were full of names, which had emerged from the sphere of crime, of the secret police and of international espionage. all these gentlemen--tchernomazov (a provocator in the secret police and director of the pre-revolutionary _pravda_), berthold (the same and also editor of the _communist_), dekonsky, malinovsky, matislavsky, those colleagues of lenin and gorky--nahamkes, stoutchka, ouritsky, gimmer (soukhanov), and a vast number of equally notorious names--brought the russian press to a hitherto unknown degree of moral degradation. the difference was only a matter of scope. some papers, akin to the soviet semi-official organ, the _izvestia of the workmen's and soldiers' delegates_, undermined the country and the army, while others of the _pravda_ type (the organ of the bolshevik social democrats) broke them down. at the same time as the _izvestia_ would call on its readers to support the provisional government, while secretly ready to strike a blow at it, the _pravda_ would declare that "the government is counter-revolutionary, and therefore there can be no relations with it. the task of the revolutionary democracy is to attain to the dictatorship of the proletariat." and tchernov's socialist revolutionary organ, the _delo naroda_, would discover a neutral formula: all possible support to the coalition government, but "there is not, and cannot be, any unanimity in this question; more than that, there must not be, in the interests of the double defence." at the same time as the _izvestia_ began to preach an advance, but without a final victory, not abandoning, however, the intention of "deciding over the heads of the government and the ruling classes the conditions on which the war might be stopped," the _pravda_ called for universal fraternisation, and the socialist revolutionary, _zemlia i volia_, alternately grieved that germany still wished for conquest, or demanded a separate peace. tchernov's paper, which in march had considered that, "should the enemy be victorious, there would be an end to russian freedom," now, in may, saw in the preaching of an advance "the limit of unblushing gambling on the fate of the fatherland, the limit of irresponsibility and demagogy." gorky's paper, _novaya zhizn_, speaking through gimmer (soukhanov), rises to cynicism when it says: "when kerensky gives orders for _russian soil to be cleared of enemy troops_, his demands far exceed the limits of military _technique_. he calls for a political act, one which has never been provided for by the coalition government. for clearing the country by an advance signifies 'complete victory'...." altogether the _novaya zhizn_ supported german interests with especial warmth, raising its voice in all cases when german interests were threatened with danger, either on the part of the allies or on ours. and when the advance of the disorganised army ended in failure--in tarnopol and kalush--when riga had fallen, the left press started a bitter campaign against the stavka and the commanding personnel, and tchernov's paper, in connection with the proposed reforms in the army, cried hysterically: "let the proletarians know that it is proposed again to give them up to the iron embrace of beggary, slavery and hunger.... let the soldiers know that it is proposed again to enslave them with the 'discipline' of their commanders and to force them to shed their blood without end, so long as the belief of the allies in russia's 'gallantry' is restored." the most straightforward of all, however, was afterwards the _iskra_, the organ of the menshevist internationalists (martov-zederbaum), which, on the day of the occupation of the island of oesel by a german landing-party, published an article entitled "welcome to the german fleet!" the army had its own military press. the organs of the army staffs and of those at the front, which used to appear before the revolution, were of the nature of purely military bulletins. beginning with the revolution, these organs, with their weak literary forces, began to fight for the existence of the army, conscientiously, honestly, but not cleverly. meeting with indifference or exasperation on the part of the soldiers, who had already turned their backs on the officers, and especially on the part of the committee organs of the "revolutionary" movement, which existed side by side with them, they began to weaken and die out, until at last, in the days of august, an order from kerensky closed them altogether; the exclusive right of publishing army newspapers was transferred to the army committee and the committees of the troops at the front. the same fate befell the _news of the active army_, the stavka organ, started by general markov and left without support from the weighty powers of the press of the capital. the committee press, widely spread among the troops at the expense of the government, reflected those moods of which i have spoken earlier in the chapter on the committees, ranging from constitutionalism to anarchism, from complete victory to an immediate conclusion of peace, without orders. it reflected--but in a worse, more sorry form, as regards literary style and content--that disharmony of thought and those tendencies towards extreme theories which characterised the socialist press of the capital. in this respect, in accordance with the personnel of the committees, and to some extent with their proximity to petrograd, the respective fronts differed somewhat from one another. the most moderate was the south-western front, somewhat worse, the western, while the northern front was pronouncedly bolshevist. besides local talent, the columns of the committee press were in many cases opened wide to the resolutions not only of the extreme national parties, but even of the german parties. it would be incorrect, however, to speak of the immediate action of the press on the masses of the soldiers. it did not exist any more than there were any popular newspapers which these masses could understand. the press exercised an influence principally on the semi-educated elements in the ranks of the army. this sphere turned out to be nearer to the soldiers, and to it passed a certain share of that authority which was enjoyed earlier by the officers. ideas gathered from the papers and refracted through the mental prism of this class passed in a simplified form to the soldiery, the vast majority of which unfortunately consisted of ignorant and illiterate men. and among these masses all these conceptions, stripped of cunningly-woven arguments, premises and grounds, were transformed into wondrously simple and terrifically logical conclusions. in them dominated the straightforward negation: "down!" down with the bourgeois government, down with the counter-revolutionary commanders, down with the "sanguinary slaughter," down with everything of which they were sick, of which they were wearied, all that in one way or another interfered with their animal instincts and hampered "free will"--down with them all! in such an elementary fashion did the army at innumerable soldiers' meetings settle all the political and social questions that were agitating mankind. * * * * * the curtain has fallen. the treaty of versailles has for a time given pause to the armed conflict in central europe. evident to the end that, having regained their strength, the nations may again take up their arms, so as to burst the chains in which defeat has fettered them. the idea of the "world-peace," which the christian churches have been preaching for twenty centuries, is buried for years to come. to us, how childishly naïve now seem the efforts of the humanists of the nineteenth century, who by prolonged, ardent propaganda sought to soften the horrors of war and to introduce the limiting norms of international law! yes, now, when we know that one may not only infringe the neutrality of a peaceful, cultured country, but give it to be ravaged and plundered; when we can sink peaceable ships, with women and children on board, by means of submarines; poison people with suffocating gases and tear their bodies with the fragments of explosive bullets; when a whole country, a whole nation, is quoted by cold, political calculation merely as a "barrier" against the invasion of armed force and pernicious ideas, and is periodically either helped or betrayed in turn. but the most terrible of all weapons ever invented by the mind of man, the most shameful of all the methods permitted in the late world war was _the poisoning of the soul of a people_! germany assigns the priority of this invention to great britain. let them settle this matter between themselves. but i see my native land crushed, dying in the dark night of horror and insanity. and i know her tormentors. two theses have arisen before mankind in all their grim power and all their shameless nakedness: _all is permissible for the advantage of one's country!_ _all is permissible for the triumph of one's party, one's class!_ all, even the moral and physical ruin of an enemy country, even the betrayal of one's native land and the making on its living body of _social experiments_, the failure of which threatens it with paralysis and death. germany and lenin unhesitatingly decided these questions in the affirmative. the world has condemned them; but are all those who speak of the matter so unanimous and sincere in their condemnation? have not these ideas left somewhat too deep traces in the minds, not so much perhaps of the popular masses as of their leaders? i, at least, am led to such a conclusion by all the present soulless world policy of the governments, especially towards russia, by all the present utterly selfish tactics of the class organisations. this is terrible. i believe that every people has the right to defend its existence, sword in hand; i know that for many years to come war will be the customary method of settling international disputes, and that methods of warfare will be both honourable and, alas! dishonourable. but there is a certain limit, beyond which even baseness ceases to be simply baseness and becomes insanity. this limit we have already reached. and if religion, science, literature, philosophers, humanitarians, teachers of mankind do not arouse a broad, idealistic movement against the hottentot morality with which we have been inoculated, the world will witness the decline of its civilisation. [illustration: before the battle in the old army: prayers.] chapter xxii. the condition of the army at the july advance. having outlined a whole series of conditions which exercised an influence on the life, spirit, and military efficiency of the once famous russian army, i shall now pass to the sorrowful tale of its fall. i was born in the family of an officer of the line, and for twenty-two years (including the two years of the russo-japanese war) before the european war served in the ranks of modest line units and in small army staffs. i shared the life, the joys and the sorrows of the officer and the soldier, and devoted many pages in the military press to their life which was my own. from to , almost without interval, i stood at the head of the troops and led them into battle on the fields of white russia, volynia, galicia, in the mountains of hungary, in roumania, and then--then in the bitter internecine war which, with bloody share, ploughed up our native land. i have more grounds and more right to speak of the army and in the name of the army than all those strangers of the socialist camp, who, in their haughty self-conceit, as soon as they touched the army, began breaking down its foundations, judging its leaders and fighters and diagnosing its serious disease, who even now, after grievous experiments and experiences, have not given up the hope of transforming this mighty and terrible weapon of national self-preservation into a means for satisfying party and social appetites. for me, the army is not only an historical, social, national phenomenon, but nearly the whole of my life, in which lie many memories, precious and not to be forgotten, in which all is bound up and interlaced into one general mass of swiftly passing days of sadness and of joy, in which there are hundreds of cherished graves, of buried dreams and unextinguishable faith. the army should be approached cautiously, never forgetting that not only its historical foundations, but even such details of its life as may, perhaps, seem strange and absurd, have their meaning and significance. when the revolution began that old veteran, beloved by both officers and soldiers, general p. i. mishtchenko, being unable to put up with the new régime, retired from the army. he lived at temir-han shoura, never went outside his garden fence, and always wore his general's uniform and his crosses of st. george, even in the days of bolshevik power. one day the bolsheviks came to search his house, and, among other things, wanted to deprive him of his shoulder straps and decorations. the old general retired to a neighbouring room and shot himself. let whoever will laugh at "old-fashioned prejudices." we shall reverence his noble memory. and so the storm-cloud of the revolution broke. there was no doubt whatever that such a cataclysm in the life of the nation could not but have a grave effect. the revolution was _bound_ to convulse the army, greatly weakening and breaking all its historic ties. such a result was normal, natural and unavoidable, independently of the condition of the army at the moment, independently of the mutual relations of commanders and subordinates. we can speak only of the circumstances which arrested or hastened the disintegration of the army. a government appeared. its source might have been one of three elements: the high command (a military dictatorship), the bourgeois state duma (the provisional government), or the revolutionary democracy (the soviet). it was the provisional government that was acknowledged. the attitude of the other two elements towards it was different; the soviet practically robbed the government of its power, while the high command submitted to it implicitly, and was therefore obliged to carry out its plans. the government had two courses open to it; it could combat the disintegrating influences which began to appear in the army by stern and ruthless measures, or it could encourage them. owing to pressure from the soviet and partly through want of firmness and through misunderstanding of the laws of existence of armed forces, the government chose the second course. this circumstance decided the fate of the army. all other circumstances could but influence the duration of the process of disruption and its depth. [illustration: types of soldiers of the old army. this company was sent to the west european front.] the festive days of touching and joyous union between the officers and the soldiers vanished rapidly, being replaced by tiresome, weary week-days. but they had been in the past, those days of joy, and, therefore, no impassable abyss existed between the two ranks, over which the inexorable logic of life had long been casting a bridge. the unnecessary, obsolete methods, which had introduced an element of irritation into the soldiery, fell away at once, as of themselves; the officers became more thoughtful and industrious. then came a torrent of newspapers, appeals, resolutions, orders, from some unknown authority, and with them a whole series of new ideas, which the soldier masses were unable to digest and assimilate. new people appeared, with a new speech, so fascinating and promising, liberating the soldiers from obedience and inspiring hope that they would be saved from deadly danger immediately. when one regimental commander naïvely inquired whether these people might not be tried by field court-martial and shot, his telegram, after passing through all official stages, called forth the reply from petrograd that these people were inviolable, and had been sent by the soviet to the troops for the very purpose of explaining to them the true meaning of current events. when such leaders of the revolutionary democracy, as have not yet lost their feeling of responsibility for crucified russia, now say that the movement, caused by the deep class differences between the officers and the soldiers and by "the enslavement" of the latter, was of an elemental nature, which they could not resist, this is deeply untrue. all the fundamental slogans, all the programmes, tactics, instructions and text-books, forming the foundation of the "democratisation" of the army, had been drawn up by the military sections of the secret socialist parties long before the war, outside of "elemental" pressure, on the grounds of clear, cold calculation, as a product of "socialist reasoning and conscience." true, the officers strove to persuade the men not to believe the "new words" and to do their duty. but from the very beginning the soviets had declared the officers to be foes of the revolution; in many towns they had been subjected to cruel torture and death, and this with impunity. evidently not without some reason, when even the "bourgeois" duma issued such a strange and unexpected "announcement" as the following: "this first day of march, rumours were spread among the soldiers of the garrison of petrograd to the effect that the officers in the regiments were disarming the soldiers. these rumours were investigated and found to be false. as president of the military commission of the provisional committee of the state duma, i declare that the most decided measures _will be_ taken to prevent such action on the part of the officers, up to the shooting of those guilty of it. signed, colonel engelhardt." next came order no. ., the declaration and so forth. perhaps, however, it might have been possible to combat all this verbal ocean of lies and hypocrisy which flowed from petrograd and from the local soviets and was echoed by the local demagogues had it not been for a circumstance which paralysed all the efforts of the commanders, viz., the animal feeling of self-preservation which had flooded the whole mass of the soldiers. this feeling had always existed. but it had been kept under and restrained by examples of duty fulfilled, by flashes of national self-consciousness, by shame, fear and pressure. when all these elements had disappeared, when for the soothing of a drowsy conscience there was a whole arsenal of new conceptions, which justified the care for one's own hide and furnished it with an ideal basis, then the army could exist no longer. this feeling upset all the efforts of the commanders, all moral principles and the whole regiment of the army. * * * * * in a large, open field, as far as the eye can see, run endless lines of trenches, sometimes coming close up to each other, interlacing their barbed wire fences, sometimes running far off and vanishing behind a verdant crest. the sun has risen long ago, but it is still as death in the field. the first to rise are the germans. in one place and another their figures look out from the trenches; a few come out on to the parapet to hang their clothes, damp after the night, in the sun. a sentry in our front trench opens his sleepy eyes, lazily stretches himself, after looking indifferently at the enemy trenches. a soldier in a dirty shirt, bare-footed, with coat slung over his shoulders, cringing under the morning cold, comes out of his trench and plods towards the german positions, where, between the lines, stands a "postbox"; it contains a new number of the german paper, _the russian messenger_, and proposals for barter. all is still. not a single gun is to be heard. last week the regimental committee issued a resolution against firing, even against distance firing; let the necessary distances be estimated by the map. a lieutenant-colonel of the gunners--a member of the committee--gave his full approval to this resolution. when yesterday the commander of a field battery began firing at a new enemy trench, our infantry opened rifle fire on our observation post and wounded the telephone operator. during the night the infantry lit a fire on the position being constructed for a newly arrived heavy battery.[ ] nine a.m. the first company gradually begins to awaken. the trenches are incredibly defiled; in the narrow communication trenches and those of the second line the air is thick and close. the parapet is crumbling away. no one troubles to repair it; no one feels inclined to do so, and there are not enough men in the company. there is a large number of deserters; more than fifty have been allowed to go. old soldiers have been demobilised, others have gone on leave with the arbitrary permission of the committee. others, again, have been elected members of numerous committees, or gone away as delegates; a while ago, for instance, the division sent a numerous delegation to "comrade" kerensky to verify whether he had really given orders for an advance. finally, by threats and violence, the soldiers have so terrorised the regimental surgeons that the latter have been issuing medical certificates even to the "thoroughly fit." in the trenches the hours pass slowly and wearily, in dullness and idleness. in one corner men are playing cards, in another a soldier returned from leave is lazily and listlessly telling a story; the air is full of obscene swearing. someone reads aloud from the _russian messenger_ the following: "the english want the russians to shed the last drop of their blood for the greater glory of england, who seeks her profit in everything.... dear soldiers, you must know that russia would have concluded peace long ago had not england prevented her.... we must turn away from her--the russian people demand it; such is their sacred will." someone or other swears. "don't you wish for peace. _they_ make peace, the ----; we shall die here, without getting our freedom!" along the trenches came lieutenant albov, the company commander. he said to the groups of soldiers, somewhat irresolutely and entreatingly: "comrades, get to work quickly. in three days we have not made a single communication trench to the firing line." the card players did not even look round; someone said in a low voice, "all right." the man reading the newspaper rose and reported, in a free and easy manner: "the company does not want to dig, because that would be preparation for an advance, and the committee has resolved...." "look here, you understand nothing at all about it, and, moreover, why do you speak for the whole company? even if we remain on the defensive we are lost in case of an alarm; the whole company cannot get out to the firing line along a single trench." he said this, and with a gesture of despair went on his way. matters were hopeless. every time he tried to speak with them for a time, and in a friendly way, they would listen to him attentively; they liked to talk to him, and, on the whole, his company looked on him favourably in their own way. but he felt that between him and them a wall had sprung up, against which all his good impulses were shattered. he had lost the path to their soul--lost it in the impassable jungle of darkness, roughness, and that wave of distrust and suspicion which had overwhelmed the soldiers. was it, perhaps, that he used the wrong words, or was not able to say what he meant? scarcely that. but a little while before the war, when he was a student and was carried away by the popular movement, he had visited villages and factories and had found "real words" which were clear and comprehensible to all. but, most of all, with what words can one move men to face death when all their feelings are veiled by one feeling--that of self-preservation? the train of his thoughts was broken by the sudden appearance of the regimental commander. "what the devil does this mean? the man on duty does not come forward. the men are not dressed. filth and stench. what are you about, lieutenant?" the grey-headed colonel cast a stern glance on the soldiers which involuntarily impressed them. they all rose to their feet. he glanced through a loop-hole and, starting back, asked nervously: "what is that?" in the green field, among the barbed wire, a regular bazaar was going on. a group of germans and of our men were bartering vodka, tobacco, lard, bread. some way off a german officer reclined on the grass--red-faced, sturdy, with an arrogant look on his face--and carried on a conversation with a soldier named soloveytchick; and, strange to say, the familiar and insolent soloveytchick stood before the lieutenant respectfully. the colonel pushed the observer aside and, taking his rifle from him, put it through the loop-hole. a murmur was heard among the soldiers. they began to ask him not to shoot. one of them, in a low voice, as if speaking to himself, remarked: "this is provocation." the colonel, crimson with fury, turned to him for a moment and shouted: "silence!" all grew silent and pressed to the loop-hole. a shot was heard, and the german officer convulsively stretched himself out and was still; blood was running from his head. the haggling soldiers scattered. the colonel threw the rifle down and, muttering through his teeth "scoundrels!" strode further along the trenches. the "truce" was infringed. the lieutenant went off to his hut. his heart was sad and empty. he was oppressed by the realisation of his unwantedness and uselessness in these absurd surroundings, which perverted the whole meaning of that service to his country, which alone justified all his grave troubles and the death which might perhaps be near. he threw himself on his bed, where he lay for an hour, for two hours, striving to think of nothing, to forget himself. but from beyond the mud wall, where the shelter lay, there crept someone's muffled voice, which seemed to wrap his brain in a filthy fog: "it is all very well for them, the ----. they receive their hundred and forty roubles a month clear, while we--so generous of them--get seven and a half. wait a bit, our turn will come." silence. "i hear they are sharing the land in our place in the province of kharkov. if i could only get home." there was a knock at the door. the sergeant-major had come. "your honour (so he always addressed his company commander in the absence of witnesses), the company is angry, and threatens to leave the position if it is not relieved at once. the second battalion should have relieved us at five o'clock, and it is not here yet. couldn't they be rung up?" "they will not go away. all right, i shall inquire; but, all the same, it is too late now. after this morning's incident the germans will not allow us to be relieved by day." "they will allow us. the committee members know about it already. i think"--he lowered his voice--"that soloveytchick has managed to slip across and explain matters. it is rumoured that the germans have promised to overlook it, on condition that next time the colonel comes to visit the trenches we should let them know, and they will throw a bomb. you had better report it or else, who knows?" "all right." the sergeant-major was preparing to leave. the lieutenant stopped him. "matters are bad, petrovitch. they do not trust us." "god alone knows whom they trust; only last week the sixth company elected their sergeant-major themselves, and now they are making a mock of him; they won't let him say a word." "what will things be afterwards?" the sergeant-major blushed, and said softly: "then the soloveytchicks will rule over us, and we shall be, so to speak, dumb animals before them--that is how matters will be, your honour." the relief came at last. captain bouravin, the commander of the fifth company, came into the hut. albov offered to show him the section and explain the disposition of the enemy. "very well, though that does not matter, because i am not really in command of the company--i am boycotted." "how?" "just so. they have elected the nd lieutenant, my subaltern, as company commander, and degraded me as a supporter of the old régime, because, you see, i had drill twice a day--you know that the marching contingents come up here absolutely untrained. indeed, the nd lieutenant was the first to vote for my removal. 'we have been slave-driven long enough,' said he. 'now we are free. we must clean out everyone, beginning with the head. a young man can manage the regiment just as well, so long as he is a true democrat and supports the freedom of the soldier.' i would have left, but the colonel flatly refused to allow it, and forbids me to hand over the company. so now, you see, we have two commanders. i have stood the situation for five days. look here, albov, you are not in a hurry, are you? very good, then; let us have a chat. i am feeling depressed. albov, have you not yet thought of suicide?" "not as yet." bouravin rose to his feet. "understand me, they have desecrated my soul, outraged my human dignity, and so every day, every hour, in every word, glance or gesture one sees a constant outrage. what have i done to them? i have been in the service for eight years; i have no family, no house or home. all this i have found in the regiment, my own regiment. twice i have been badly wounded, and before my wounds were healed have rushed back to the regiment--so there you are! and i loved the soldier--i am ashamed to speak of it myself, but they must remember how, more than once, i have crept out under the barbed wire to drag in the wounded. and now! well, yes, i reverence the regimental flag and hate their crimson rags. i accept the revolution. but to me russia is infinitely dearer than the revolution. all these committees and meetings, all this adventitious rubbish which has been sown in the army i am organically unable to swallow and digest. but, after all, i interfere with no one; i say nothing of this to anyone, i strive to convince no one. if only the war could be ended honourably, and then i am ready to break stones on the highway, only not to remain in an army democratised in such a manner. take my subaltern; he discusses everything with them--nationalisation, socialisation, labour control. now i cannot do so--i never had time to study it, and i confess i never took any interest in the matter. you remember how the army commander came here and, amidst a crowd of soldiers, said: 'don't say "general"; call me simply comrade george.' now i cannot do such things; besides, all the same, they would not believe me. so i am silent. but they understand and pay me off. and, you know, with all their ignorance, what subtle psychologists they are! they are able to find the place where the sting hurts most. now, yesterday for instance...." he stooped down to albov's ear, and continued in a whisper: "i returned from our mess. in my tent, at the head of my bed, i have a photograph--well, just a treasured memory. there they had drawn an obscenity!" bouravin rose and wiped his brow with his handkerchief. "well, let us take a look at the positions. god willing, we shall not have to stand it long. no one in the company wants to go scouting. i go myself every night; sometimes there is a volunteer who accompanies me--he has a hunter's strain in him. should anything happen, please, albov, see to it that a little packet--it is in my bag--is sent to its destination." the company, without waiting for the completion of the relief, wandered away in disorder. albov plodded after them. the communication trench ended in a broad hollow. like a great ant-hill the regimental bivouac stretched in rows of huts, tents, smoking camp-kitchens and horse-lines. they had once been carefully masked by artificial plantations, which had now withered, lost their leaves, and were merely leafless poles. on an open green soldiers were drilling here and there--listlessly, lazily, as if to create an impression that they were doing something; after all, it would be awkward to be doing absolutely nothing at all. there were few officers about; the good ones were sick of the trivial farce into which real work was now transformed, while the inferior ones had a moral justification for their laziness and idleness. in the distance something between a mob and a column marched along the road towards the regimental staff quarters, carrying crimson flags. before them went a huge banner bearing the inscription, in white letters, visible in the distance: "down with war!" these were reinforcements coming up. at once, all the soldiers drilling on the green, as if at a signal, broke their ranks and ran towards the column. "hey, countrymen! what province are you from?" an animated conversation began on the usual anxious themes: how did matters stand with the land; would peace be concluded soon? much interest, also, was shown in the question as to whether they had brought any home-brewed spirits, as "their own regimental" home brew, manufactured in fairly large quantities at "the distillery" of the third battalion, was very disgusting, and gave rise to painful symptoms. albov made his way to the mess-room. the officers were gathering for dinner. what had become of the former animation, friendly talk, healthy laughter and torrents of reminiscences of a stormy, hard, but glorious life of war? the reminiscences had faded, the dreams had flown away, and stern reality crushed them all down with its weight. they spoke in low voices, sometimes breaking off or expressing themselves figuratively: the mess servants might denounce them, and also new faces had appeared among themselves. not so long ago the regimental committee, on the report of a servant, had tried an officer of the regiment, who wore the cross of st. george and to whom the regiment owed one of its most famous victories. this lieutenant-colonel had said something about "mutinous slaves." and though it was proved that those were not his own words and that he had only quoted a speech made by comrade kerensky, the committee "expressed its indignation at him"; he had to leave the regiment. the personnel of the officers, too, was much changed. of the original staff, some two or three remained. some had perished, others had been crippled, others again, having earned "distrust," were wandering about the front, importuning staffs, joining shock battalions, entering institutions in the rear, while some of the weaker brethren had simply gone home. the army had ceased to need the bearers of the traditions of its units, of its former glory--of those old bourgeois prejudices, which had been swept into the dust by the revolutionary creative power. everyone in the regiment knows already of that morning's event in albov's company. he is questioned about details. a lieutenant-colonel sitting next him wagged his head. "well done, our old man. there was something in the fifth company, too. but i am afraid it will end badly. have you heard what was done to the commander of the doubov regiment, because he refused to confirm an elected company commander and put three agitators under arrest? _he was crucified._ yes, my boy! they nailed him to a tree and began, in turn, to stick their bayonets into him, to cut off his ears, his nose, his fingers." he seized his head in his hands. "my god! where do these men get so much brutality, so much baseness?" at the other end of the table the ensigns are carrying on a conversation on that ever harassing theme--where to get away to. "have you applied for admission to the revolutionary battalion?" "no, it is not worth while. it seems that it is being formed under the superintendence of the executive committee, with committees, elections and "revolutionary" discipline. it does not suit me." "they say that shock units are being formed in kornilov's army and at minsk also. that would be good...." "i have applied for transfer to our rifle brigade in france. only i do not know what i am to do about the language." "alas! my boy, you are too late," remarked the lieutenant-colonel from the other end of the table. "the government has long ago sent 'emigrant comrades' there to enlighten minds. and now our brigades, somewhere in the south of france, are in the situation of something like either prisoners of war or disciplinary battalions." this talk, however, was realised by all to be of a purely platonic character, in view of the hopelessness of a situation from which there was no escape. it was only a case of dreaming a little, as tchekhov's _three sisters_ once dreamed of moscow. dreaming of such a wondrous place, where human dignity is not trampled into the mud daily, where one can live quietly and die honourably, without violence and without outrage to one's service. such a very little thing. "mitka, bread!" boomed out the mighty bass of nd lieutenant yassny. he is quite a character, this yassny. tall and sturdy, with a thick crop of hair and a copper-coloured beard, he is altogether an embodiment of the strength and courage of the soil. he wears four crosses of st. george, and has been promoted from the rank of sergeant for distinction in action. he does not adapt himself to his new surroundings in the least, said "levorution" for "revolution" and "mettink" for "meeting," and cannot reconcile himself to the new order. yassny's undoubted "democratic" views, his candour and sincerity, have given him an exceptionally privileged position in the regiment. without enjoying any special influence, he can, however, condemn, rudely, harshly, sometimes with an oath, both people and ideas, which are jealously guarded and worshipped by the regimental "revolutionary democracy." the men are angry, but suffer him. "there is no bread, i say." the officers, absorbed in their thoughts and in their conversation, had not even noticed that they had eaten their soup without bread. "there will be no bread to-day," answered the waiter. "what is the meaning of this? call the mess-sergeant." the mess-sergeant came, and began to justify himself in a bewildered manner; he had sent in a request that morning for two pouds of bread. the head of the commissariat had endorsed it "to be issued," but the clerk, fedotov, a member of the commissariat committee, had endorsed it in his turn "not to be issued." so the storehouse would not issue any bread. no one made any objection, so painfully ashamed was everyone both of the mess-sergeant and of those depths of inanity which had suddenly broken into their life and swamped it with a grey, filthy slime. only yassny's bass voice rang out distinctly under the arches of the mess-room: "what swine!" albov was just preparing for a nap after dinner when the flap of his tent was lifted, and through the aperture appeared the bald head of the chief of the commissariat--a quiet, elderly colonel, who had joined the army again from the retired list. "may i come in?" "i beg your pardon, colonel." "never mind, my dear fellow, don't get up. i have just come in for a second. you see, to-day at six o'clock there is to be a regimental meeting. it will hear the report of the committee for verifying the commissariat, and apparently they will go for me. i am no speech-maker, but you are a master of it. take my part, should it be necessary." "certainly. i did not intend going, but once it is necessary, i shall be there." "thank you, then, my dear fellow." by six o'clock the square next to the regimental staff quarters was completely covered with men. at least two thousand had turned up. the crowd moved, chattered, laughed--just such a russian crowd as on the khodynka in moscow or the _champs de mars_ in petrograd at a holiday entertainment. the revolution could not transform it all at once, either mentally or spiritually. but, having stunned it with a torrent of new words and opened up before it unbounded possibilities, the revolution had destroyed its equilibrium and made it nervously susceptible and stormily reactive to all methods of external influence. an ocean of words--both morally lofty and basely criminal--flowed through their minds as through a sieve, which passed through the trend of the new ideas and retained only those grains which had a real applied meaning in their daily life, in the surroundings of the soldier, the peasant, the workman. hence the absolute absence of results from the torrents of eloquence which flooded the army at the instance of the minister of war; hence, too, the illogical warm sympathy with both speakers of clearly opposed politics. under such conditions, what practical meaning could the crowd find in such ideas as duty, honour, interests of the state, on the one hand; annexations, indemnities, the self-determination of peoples, conscious discipline, and other dim conceptions on the other. the whole regiment had turned out; the soldiers were attracted by the meeting, as by any other spectacle. delegates had been sent by the second battalion, which was in the trenches--about one-third of the battalion. in the middle of the square stood a platform for the speakers; it was decorated with red flags, faded with time and rain; they have been there since the platform was erected for a review by the commander of the army. reviews are now held not among the ranks, but from a tribune. to-day the agenda of the meeting contain two questions: "( ) the report of the commissariat committee on the anomalies in the supply of officers' rations; and ( ) the report of comrade sklianka, an orator specially invited from the moscow soviet to speak about the formation of a coalition ministry." during the preceding week a stormy meeting, which nearly ended in a riot, had been held in connection with the complaint of one of the companies that the soldiers had to eat lentils, which they hated, and thin soup, simply because all the groats and butter were taken for the officers' mess. this was clearly nonsense. nevertheless, it was resolved to appoint a committee for investigation, which would report to a general meeting of the regiment. the report was drawn up by a member of the committee, lieutenant-colonel petrov, who had been removed the year before from the post of chief of the commissariat and was now settling accounts with his successor. in a petty, cavilling way, with a sort of mean irony, he enumerated slight, irrelevant, inaccuracies in the commissariat department of the regiment--there were no serious ones--and dragged out his report endlessly in his creaking, monotonous voice. the crowd, which at first had kept quiet, now hummed again, having ceased to listen. from different sides voices were heard: "enough!" "that will do!" the chairman of the commission ceased reading and suggested that "those comrades who wished" should express their opinions. a tall, stout soldier ascended the platform, and began speaking in a loud, hysterical voice: "comrades, you have heard? that is where the soldiers' property goes. we suffer, our clothes are worn out, we are covered with lice, we go hungry, while they pull the last piece of food out of our mouths." as he spoke a spirit of nervous excitement kept growing in the crowd, muffled murmurs ran through it, and shouts of approval burst from it here and there. "when will there be an end to all this? we are worn out, weary to death." suddenly nd lieut. yassny's deep voice was heard from the rear ranks, drowning the voices both of the speaker and of the crowd. "what is your company?" some confusion took place. the orator was dumb. shouts of indignation were flung at yassny. "what is your company, i ask you?" "the seventh!" voices were heard in the ranks: "we have no such man in the seventh company." "wait a bit, my friend," boomed yassny, "was it not you that came in to-day with the new lot ... you were carrying a large placard? when have you had time to get worn out, poor fellow?" the spirit of the crowd changed in an instant. it began to hiss, laugh, shout, and crack jokes. the unsuccessful orator disappeared in the crowd. someone shouted: "pass a resolution!" lieutenant-colonel petrov mounted the platform again, and began to read out a ready resolution for transferring the officers' mess to privates' rations. but no one listened to him now. two or three voices shouted "that's right!" petrov hesitated a little, then put the paper in his pocket and left the platform. the second question, concerning the removal of the chief of the commissariat and the immediate election of his successor (the author of the report was the candidate proposed) remained unread. the chairman of the committee then announced: "comrade sklianka, member of the executive committee of the moscow council of workmen's and soldiers' delegates, will now address the meeting." they were tired of their own speakers--it was always one and the same thing--and the arrival of a new man, somewhat advertised by the committee, aroused general interest. the crowd closed up round the platform and was still. a small, black-haired man, nervous and short-sighted, who constantly adjusted the eyeglasses which kept slipping off his nose, mounted the platform, or rather quickly ran up on to it. he began speaking rapidly, with much spirit and much gesticulation. "soldier comrades! three months have passed already since the petrograd workers and revolutionary soldiers threw off the yoke of the czar and of all his generals. the bourgeoisie, in the person of tereshtchenko, the well-known sugar refiner; konovalov, the factory owner; the landowners, gutchkov, rodzianko, miliukov, and other traitors to the interests of the people, having seized the supreme power, have tried to deceive the popular masses. "the demand of the people that negotiations be commenced at once for that peace which we are offered by our german worker and soldier brethren--who are just as much bereft of all that makes life worth living as we are--has ended in a fraud--a telegram from miliukov to england and france to say that the russian people are ready to fight until victory is attained. "the unfortunate people understood that the supreme power had fallen into even worse hands, _i.e._, into those of the sworn foes of the workman and the peasant. therefore the people shouted mightily: 'down with you, hands off!' "and the accursed bourgeoisie shook at the mighty cry of the workers and hypocritically invited to a share in their power the so-called democracy--the socialist-revolutionaries and the mensheviks, who always associated with the bourgeoisie for the betrayal of the interests of the working people." having thus outlined the process of the formation of the coalition ministry, comrade sklianka passed in greater detail to the fascinating prospects of rural and factory anarchy, where "the wrath of the people sweeps away the yoke of capital" and where "bourgeois property gradually passes into the hands of its real masters--the workmen and the poorer peasants." "the soldiers and the workmen still have enemies," he continued. "these are the friends of the overthrown czarist government, the hardened admirers of shooting, the knout, and blows. the most bitter foes of freedom, they have now donned crimson rosettes, call you 'comrades' and pretend to be friends, but cherish the blackest intentions in their hearts, preparing to restore the rule of the romanovs. "soldiers, do not trust these wolves in sheep's clothing! they call you to fresh slaughter. well, follow them if you like! let them pave the path for the return of the bloody czar with your corpses. let your orphans, your widows and children, deserted by all, pass again into slavery, hunger, beggary, and disease!" the speech undoubtedly had a great success. the atmosphere grew red-hot, the excitement increased--that excitement of the "molten mass," in the presence of which it is impossible to foresee either the limits or the tension, or the tracks along which the torrent will pour. the crowd was noisy and agitated, accompanying with shouts of approval or curses against "the enemies of the people" those parts of the speech which especially touched its instincts, its naked, cruel egotism. albov, pale, with burning eyes, made his appearance on the platform. he spoke excitedly of something or other to the chairman, who then addressed the crowd. the chairman's words were inaudible amidst the noise; for a long time he waved his hands and the flag which he had pulled down, until at last the noise had subsided somewhat. "comrades, lieutenant albov wishes to address you!" shouts and hisses were heard. "down with him! we do not want him!" but albov was already on the platform, gripping hard, bending downwards towards the sea of heads. and he said: "no, i will speak, and you dare not refuse to listen to one of those officers whom this man has been abusing and dishonouring here before you. who he may be, whence he has come, who pays him for his speeches, so profitable to the germans, not one of you knows. he has come here, befogged you, and will go on his way to sow evil and treason. and you have believed him. and we, who along with you have now carried our heavy cross into the fourth year of the war--we are now to be regarded as your enemies? why? is it because we never sent you into action, but led you, bestrewing with officers' corpses the whole of the path covered by the regiment? is it because that, of the officers who led you in the beginning, there is not one left in the regiment who is not maimed?" he spoke with deep sincerity and pain in his voice. there were moments when it seemed as if his words were breaking through the withered crust of those hardened hearts, as if a break would again take place in the attitude of the crowd. "he, your 'new friend,' is calling you to mutiny, to violence, to robbery. do you understand who will benefit when, in russia, brother rises against brother, so as to turn to ashes, in sack and fire, the last property left not only to the 'capitalists,' but to the poverty-stricken workers and peasants? no, it is not by violence, but by law and right, that you will acquire land and liberty and a tolerable existence. your enemies are not here, among the officers, but there--beyond the barbed wire. and we shall not attain either to freedom or to peace by a dishonourable, cowardly standing in one and the same place, but in the general mighty rush of an _advance_." was it that the impression of sklianka's speech was still too vivid or that the regiment took offence at the word "cowardly"--for the most arrant coward will never forgive such a reminder--or, finally, was it the fault of the magic word "advance," which for some time past had ceased to be tolerated in the army? but anyhow albov was not allowed to continue his speech. the crowd bellowed, belched forth curses, pressed forward more and more, advancing toward the platform, and broke down the railing. an ominous roar, faces distorted with fury, and hands stretched forth towards the platform. the situation was becoming critical. nd lieut. yassny pushed his way through to albov, took him by the arm, and forcibly led him to the exit. the soldiers of the first company had already rushed up to it from all sides, and with their aid albov, with great difficulty, made his way out of the crowd, amidst a shower of choice abuse. someone shouted out after him: "wait a bit, you ----; we will settle accounts with you!" night. the bivouac had grown quiet. clouds had covered the sky. it was dark. albov, sitting on his bed in his narrow tent, illuminated by the stump of a candle, was writing a report to the commander of the regiment: "the officers--powerless, insulted, meeting with distrust and disobedience from their subordinates--can be of no further use. i beg of you to apply for my reduction to the ranks, so that there i might fulfil my duty honestly and to the end." he lay down on his bed. he gripped his head in his hands. a kind of uncanny, incomprehensible emptiness seized him, just as if some unseen hand had drawn out of his head all thought, out of his heart all pain. what was that? a noise was heard, the tent-pole fell down, the light went out. a number of men on the tent. hard, cruel blows were showered on the whole of his body. a sharp, intolerable pain shot through his head and his chest. then his whole face seemed covered with a warm, sticky veil, and soon everything became still and calm again, as if all that was terrible and hard to bear had torn itself away, had remained here, on earth, while his soul was flying away somewhere and was feeling light and joyous. albov awoke to feel something cold touching him: a private of his company, goulkin, an elderly man, was sitting at the foot of his bed and wiping away the blood from his head with a wet towel. he noticed that albov had regained consciousness. "look how they have mangled the man, the scum! it can have been no other than the fifth company--i recognised one of them. does it hurt you much? perhaps you would like me to go for the doctor?" "no, my friend, it does not matter. thank you!" and albov pressed his hand. "and their commander, too, captain bouravin, has met with a misfortune. during the night they carried him past us on a stretcher, wounded in the abdomen; the _sanitar_ said that he would not live. he was returning from reconnoitring, and the bullet took just at our very barbed wire. whether it was a german one or whether our own people did not recognise him--who knows?" he was silent for a while. "what has come to the people one simply can't understand. and all this is just put on. it is not true--that which they say against the officers--we understand that ourselves. of course, there are all sorts among you. but we know them very well. don't we see for ourselves that you, now, are for us with all your heart. or let us say nd lieut. yassny. could such a one sell himself? and yet, try to say a word, to take your part--there would be no living for us. there is a great deal of hooliganism now. it is only hooligans that men listen to. my idea is that all this is taking place because men have forgotten god. men have nothing to be afraid of." albov closed his eyes from weakness. goulkin hastily arranged the blanket, which had slipped to the floor, made the sign of the cross over him, and quietly slipped out of the tent. but sleep would not come. his heart was full of an inexhaustible sadness and an oppressive feeling of loneliness. he yearned so much to have some living being at hand, so that he might silently, wordlessly feel its proximity, and not remain alone with his dreadful thoughts. he regretted that he had not detained goulkin. all was quiet. the whole camp was sleeping. albov leaped from his bed and lit the candle again. he was seized with a dull, hopeless despair. he had no more faith in anything. impenetrable darkness lay before him. to make his exit from life? no, that would be surrender. he must go on, with clenched teeth and hardened heart, until some stray bullet--russian or german--broke the thread of his wearisome days. dawn was coming on. a new day was beginning, new army week-days, horribly like their predecessors. * * * * * afterwards? afterwards the "molten element" overflowed its banks completely. officers were killed, burnt, drowned, torn asunder and had their heads broken through with hammers, slowly, with inexpressible cruelty. afterwards--millions of deserters. like an avalanche the soldiery moved along the railways, water-ways and country roads, trampling down, breaking and destroying the last nerves of poor, roadless russia. afterwards--tarnopol, kalush, kazan. like a whirlwind robbery, murder, violence, incendiarism swept over galicia, volynia, the podolsk and other provinces, leaving behind it everywhere a trail of blood and arousing in the minds of the russian people, crazed with grief and weak in spirit, the monstrous thought: "o lord! if only the germans would come quickly." this was done by the soldier. that soldier of whom a great russian writer, with intuitive conscience and a bold heart, has said:[ ] "... how many hast thou killed during these days, oh soldier? how many orphans hast thou made? how many inconsolable mothers hast thou left? dost thou hear the whisper on their lips, from which thou hast driven the smile of joy for evermore? "murderer! murderer! "but why speak of mothers, of orphaned children? a more terrible moment came, which none had expected--and thou didst betray russia, thou didst cast the whole of the motherland, which had bred thee, under the feet of the foe! "thou, oh soldier, whom we loved so--and whom we still love." chapter xxiii. officers' organisations. in the early days of april the idea arose among the headquarters' officers of organising a "union of the officers of the army and the navy." the initiators of the union[ ] started with the view that it was necessary "to think alike, so as to understand alike the events that were taking place, to work in the same direction," for up to the present time "the voice of the officers--of all the officers--has been heard by none. as yet we have said nothing about the great events amidst which we are living. everyone who chooses says for us whatever he chooses. military questions, and even the questions of our daily life and internal order, are settled for us by anyone who likes and in any way he likes." there were two objections made in principle, one being the objection to the introduction by the officers themselves into their ranks of those principles of collective self-government with which the army had been inoculated from outside, in the form of soviets, committees and congresses, and had brought disintegration into it. the second objection was the fear lest the appearance of an independent officers' organisation should deepen still more those differences which had arisen between the soldiers and the officers. on the basis of these views we, along with the commander-in-chief, at first took up an altogether negative attitude towards this proposal. but life had already broken out of its bounds and laughed at our motives. a draft declaration was published, granting the army full freedom for forming unions and meetings, and it would now have been an injustice to the officers to deprive them of the right of professional organisation, if only as a means of self-preservation. in practice, officers' societies had sprung up in many of the armies, and in kiev, moscow, petrograd and other towns they had done so from the earlier days of the revolution. they all wandered in different directions, groping their way, while some unions in the large centres, under the influence of the disintegrating conditions of the rear, displayed a strong leaning towards the policy of the soviets. the officers of the rear frequently lived a completely different spiritual life from those of the front. thus, for instance, the moscow soviet of officers' delegates passed, in the beginning of april, a resolution to the effect that "the work of the provisional government should proceed ... in the spirit of the socialistic and political demands of the democracy, represented by the council of workmen's and soldiers' delegates," and expressed a wish that there should be more representatives of the socialist parties in the provisional government. an adulteration of the officers' views was also developing on a larger scale; the petrograd officers' council summoned an "all-russia congress of officers' delegates, army surgeons and officers" in petrograd for may th. this circumstance was the more undesirable in that the initiator of the congress--the executive committee, with lieutenant-colonel goushchin, of the general staff, at its head--had already disclosed to the full its negative policy by its participation in the drafting of the declaration of soldiers' rights, by its active co-operation in the polivanov commission and its servility before the council of workmen's and soldier's delegates, and by its endeavours to unite with it. a proposal in this sense being made, the council, however, replied that such a union was "as yet impossible on technical grounds." having discounted all these circumstances, the supreme commander-in-chief gave his approval to the summoning of a congress of officers, on condition that no pressure should be exercised either in his name or in that of the chief-of-staff. this scrupulous attitude somewhat complicated matters. some of the staffs, being out of sympathy with the idea, prevented the circulation of the appeal, while some of the high commanders, as, for example, the commander of the troops of the omsk district, forbade the delegation of officers altogether. in some places also this question roused the suspicion of the soldiers and caused some complications, in consequence of which the initiators of the congress invited the units to delegate soldiers as well as officers to be present at the sessions. despite all obstacles, over officer delegates gathered in moghilev, per cent. being from the front, per cent. from fighting units in the rear, and per cent. from the rear. on may th the congress was opened with a speech by the supreme commander-in-chief. on that day, for the first time, the high command said, not in a secret meeting, not in a confidential letter, but openly, before the whole country: "russia is perishing." general alexeiev said: "in appeals, in general orders, in the columns of the daily press, we often meet with the short sentence: 'our country is in danger.' "we have grown too well accustomed to this phrase. we feel as if we were reading an old chronicle of bygone days, and do not ponder over the grim meaning of this curt sentence. but, gentlemen, this is, i regret to say, a serious fact. _russia is perishing. she stands on the brink of an abyss. a few more shocks, and she will crash with all her weight into it._ the enemy has occupied one-eighth part of her territory. he cannot be bribed by the utopian phrase: 'peace without annexations or indemnities.' he says frankly that he will not leave our soil. he is stretching forth his greedy grip to lands where no enemy soldier has ever set foot--to the rich lands of volynia, podolia and kiev--_i.e._, to the whole right bank of our dnieper. "and what are we going to do? will the russian army allow this to happen? will we not thrust this insolent foe out of our country and let the diplomatists conclude peace afterwards, with annexations or without them? "let us be frank. the fighting spirit of the russian army has fallen; but yesterday strong and terrible, it now stands in fatal impotence before the foe. its former traditional loyalty to the motherland has been replaced by a yearning for peace and rest. instead of fortitude, the baser instincts and a thirst for self-preservation are rampant. "at home, where is that strong authority for which the whole country is craving? where is that powerful authority which would force every citizen to do his duty honestly by the motherland? "we are told that it will soon appear, but as yet it does not exist. "where is the love of country, where is patriotism? "the great word 'brotherhood' has been inscribed on our banners, but it has not been inscribed in our hearts and minds. class enmity rages amongst us. whole classes which have honestly fulfilled their duty to their country have fallen under suspicion, and on this foundation a deep gulf has been created between two parts of the army--the officers and the soldiers. "and it is at this very moment that the first congress of officers of the russian army has been summoned. i am of the opinion that a more convenient, a more timely moment, could not have been chosen to attain unity in our family, to form a general united family of the corps of russian officers, to discuss the means of breathing ardour into our hearts, _for without ardour there is no victory, without victory there is no salvation, no russia_. "may your work therefore be inspired with love for your motherland and with heartfelt regard for the soldier; mark the ways for raising the moral and intellectual calibre of the soldiers, so that they may become your sincere and hearty comrades. do away with that estrangement which has been artificially sown in our family. "at the present moment--this is a disease common to all--people would like to set all the citizens of russia on platforms or pedestals and scrutinise how many stand behind each of them. what does it matter that the masses of the army accepted the new order and the new constitution sincerely, honestly and with enthusiasm? "_we must all unite on one great object: russia is in danger. as members of the great army, we must save her. let this object unite us and give us strength to work._" this speech, in which the leader of the army expressed "the anxiety of his heart," served as the prologue to his retirement. the revolutionary democracy had already passed its sentence on general alexeiev at its memorable session with the commanders-in-chief on may th; now, after may th, a bitter campaign was begun against him in the radical press, in which the soviet semi-official organ _isvestia_ competed with lenin's papers in the triviality and impropriety of its remarks. this campaign was the more significant in that the minister of war, kerensky, was clearly on the side of the soviet in this matter. as if to supplement the words of the supreme commander-in-chief, i said in my speech, when touching on the internal situation in the country: "... under pressure of the unavoidable laws of history, autocracy has fallen, and our country has passed under the rule of the people. we stand on the threshold of a new life, long and passionately awaited, for which many thousand idealists have gone to the block, languished in the mines and pined in the _tundras_. "but we look to the future with anxiety and perplexity. "for there is no liberty in the revolutionary torture-chamber. "there is no righteousness in misrepresenting the voice of the people. "there is no equality in the hounding down of classes. "and there is no strength in that insane rout where all around seek to grasp all that they possibly can, at the expense of their suffering country, where thousands of greedy hands are stretched out towards power, breaking down the foundations of that country...." then the sessions of the congress began. whoever was present has carried away, probably for the rest of his life, an indelible impression produced by the story of the sufferings of the officers. it could never be written, as it was told with chilling restraint by these, captain bouravin and lieutenant albov, who touched upon their most intimate and painful experiences. they had suffered till they could suffer no more; in their hearts there were neither tears nor complaints. i looked at the boxes, where the "younger comrades" sat who had been sent to watch for "counter-revolution." i wanted to read in their faces the impression produced by all that they had heard. and it seemed to me that i saw the blush of shame. probably it only seemed so to me, for they soon made a stormy protest, demanded the right of voting at the congress, and--five roubles per day "officer's allowance." at thirteen general meetings the congress passed a series of resolutions. among all the classes, castes, professions and trades which exhibited a general elemental desire to get from the weak government all that was possible, in their own private interests, the officers were the only corporation which never asked anything _for itself personally_. the officers requested and demanded _authority_--over themselves and over the army. a firm, single, national authority--"commanding, not appealing." the authority of a government leaning on the trust of the nation, not on irresponsible organisations. such an authority the officers were prepared wholeheartedly and unreservedly to obey, _quite irrespective of differences of political opinions_. i affirm, moreover, that all the inner social class conflict which was blazing up more and more throughout the country did not affect the officers at the front, who were immersed in their work and in their sorrows; it did not touch them deeply; the conflict attracted the attention of the officers only when its results obviously endangered the very existence of the country, and of the army in particular. of course, i am speaking of the mass of the officers; individual leanings towards reaction undoubtedly existed, but they were in no respect characteristic of the officers' corps in . one of the finest representatives of the officers' class, general markov, a thoroughly educated man, wrote to kerensky, condemning his system of slighting the command: "being a soldier by nature, birth and education, i can judge and speak only of my own military profession. all other reforms and alterations in the constitution of our country interest me only as an ordinary citizen. but i know the army; i have devoted to it the best days of my life; i have paid for its successes with the blood of those who were near to me, and have myself come out of action steeped in blood." this the revolutionary democracy had not understood or taken into consideration. the officers' congress in petrograd, at which about delegates were gathered (may - ), passed off in a totally different manner. it split into two sharply-divided camps: the officers and officials of the rear who had given themselves to politics and a smaller number of real officers of the line who had become delegates through a misunderstanding of the matter. the executive committee drew up their programme in strict agreement with the custom of the soviet congresses: ( ) the attitude of the congress towards the provisional government and the soviet; ( ) the war; ( ) the constituent assembly; ( ) the labour question; ( ) the land question; and ( ) the reorganisation of the army on democratic principles. an exaggerated importance was attached to the congress in petrograd, and at its opening pompous speeches were made by many members of the government and by foreign representatives; the congress was even greeted in the name of the soviet by nahamkes. the very first day revealed the irreconcilable differences between the two groups. these differences were inevitable, if only because, even on such a cardinal question as "order no. .," the vice-chairman of the congress, captain brzozek, expressed the view that "its issue was dictated by historical necessity: the soldier was downtrodden, and it was imperatively necessary to free him." this declaration was greeted with prolonged applause by part of the delegates! after a series of stormy meetings, a resolution was passed by a majority of against , which stated that "the revolutionary power of the country was in the hands of the organised peasants, workmen and soldiers, who form the predominating mass of the population," and that therefore the government must be responsible to the all-russia soviet! even the resolution advocating an advance was passed by a majority of little more than two-thirds of those who cast their votes. the attitude of the petrograd congress is to be explained by the declaration made on may th by that group, which, reflecting the real opinion of the front, took the point of view of "all possible support to the provisional government." "in summoning the congress the executive committee of the petrograd council of officers' delegates did not seek for the solution of the most essential problem of the moment--the regeneration of the army--since the question of the fighting capacity of the army and of the measures for raising its level was not even mentioned in the programme, and was included only at our request. if we are to believe the statement--strange, to say no more--made by the chairman, lieutenant-colonel goushchin, the object of the summoning of the congress was the desire of the executive committee to pass under our flag into the council of workmen's and soldiers' delegates." this declaration led to a series of serious incidents; three-quarters of the delegates left the meeting and the congress came to an end. i have mentioned the question of the petrograd officers' council and congress only in order to show the spirit of a certain section of the officers of the rear, which was in frequent contact with the official and unofficial rulers, and represented, in the eyes of the latter, the "voice of the army." the moghilev congress, which attracted the unflagging attention of the supreme commander-in-chief, and was much favoured by him, closed on may nd. at this time general alexeiev had already been relieved of the command of the russian army. so deeply had this episode affected him that he was unable to attend the last meeting. i bade farewell to the congress in the following words: "the supreme commander-in-chief, who is leaving his post, has commissioned me, gentlemen, to convey to you his sincere greetings, and to say that his heart, that of an old soldier, beats in unison with yours, that it aches with the same pain, and lives with the same hope for the regeneration of the disrupted, but ever great, russian army. "let me add a few words from myself. "you have gathered here from the distant blood-bespattered marches of our land, and laid before us your quenchless sorrow and your soul-felt grief. "you have unrolled before us a vivid and painful picture of the life and work of the officers amidst the raging sea of the army. "you, who have stood a countless number of times in the face of death! you, who have intrepidly led your men against the dense rows of the enemy's barbed wire, to the rare boom of your own guns, treacherously deprived of ammunition! you, who, hardening your hearts, but keeping up your spirits, have cast the last handful of earth into the grave of your fallen son, brother, or friend! "will you quail now? "no! "you who are weak, raise your heads. you who are strong, give of your determination, of your aspirations, of your desire to work for the happiness of your motherland--pour them into the thinned ranks of your comrades at the front. you are not alone. with you are all those who are honourable, all who think, all who have paused at the brink of that common sense which is now being abolished. "the soldiers also will go with you, understanding clearly that you are leading them, not backwards, to serfdom and to spiritual poverty, but forwards, to freedom and to light. "and then such a thunderstorm will break over the foe as will put an end both to him and to the war. "these three years of the war i have lived one life with you, thought the same thoughts, shared with you the joy of victory and the burning pain of retreat. i have therefore the right to fling into the faces of those who have outraged our hearts, who from the very first days of the revolution have wrought the work of cain on the corps of officers--i have the right to fling in their faces the words: 'you lie! the russian officer has never been either a mercenary or a pretorian.' "under the old régime you were victimised, down-trodden, and deprived of all that makes life worth living. in no less a degree than yourselves, leading a life of semi-beggary, our officers of the line have managed to carry through their wretched, laborious life like a burning torch, the thirst for achievement for the happiness of his motherland. "then let my call be heard through these walls by the builders of the new life of the state: "take care of the officer! for from the beginning and till now he has stood, faithfully and without relief, on guard over the order of the russian state. he can be relieved by death alone." printed by the committee, the text of my speech was circulated at the front, and i was happy to learn, from many letters and telegrams, that the words spoken in defence of the officer had touched his aching heart. the congress left a permanent institution at the stavka--the "chief committee of the officers' union."[ ] during the first three months of its existence the committee did not succeed in rooting itself deeply in the army. its activities were confined to organising branches of the union in the armies and in military circles, to the examination of the complaints that reached it. in exceptional cases incompetent officers were recommended for dismissal (the "black-board"); to a certain very limited degree officers expelled by the soldiers were granted assistance, and declarations were addressed to the government and to the press in connection with the more important events in public and military life. after the june advance the tone of these declarations became acrimonious, critical, and defiant, which seriously disturbed the prime minister, who persistently sought to have the chief committee transferred from moghilev to moscow, as he considered that its attitude was a danger to the stavka. the committee, which was somewhat passive during the command of general brussilov, did, indeed, take part afterwards in general kornilov's venture. but it was not this circumstance that caused the change in its attitude. _the committee undoubtedly reflected the general spirit with which the command and the russian officers were then imbued, a spirit which had become hostile to the provisional government._ also, no clear idea had been formed among the officers of the political groups within the government of the covert struggle proceeding between them, or of the protective part played by many representatives of the liberal democracy among them. a hostile attitude was thus created towards the government as a whole. having remained hitherto perfectly loyal and in the majority of cases well-disposed, having patiently borne, much against the grain, the experiments which the provisional government made, deliberately or involuntarily, on the country and on the army, these elements lived only in the hope of the regeneration of the army, of an advance and of victory. when all these hopes crashed to the ground, then, not being united in their ideals with the second coalitional government, but, on the contrary, deeply distrusting it, the masses of the officers abandoned the provisional government, which thus lost its last reliable support. this moment is of great historical importance, giving the key to the understanding of many later events. as a whole, deeply democratic in their personnel, views and conditions of life, _rejected by the revolutionary democracy_ with incredible harshness and cynicism, and finding no real support in the liberal circles in close touch with the government, the russian officers found themselves in a state of tragic isolation. this isolation and bewilderment served more than once afterwards as a fertile soil for outside influences, foreign to the traditions of the officer caste and to its former political character--influences which led to dissension, and in the end to fratricide. for there can be no doubt that all the power, all the organisation, both of the red and of the white armies, rested exclusively on the personality of the former russian officer. and if afterwards, in the course of three years of conflict, we have witnessed the rise of two conflicting forces in the russian public life of the anti-bolshevist camp, we must seek for their original source not in political differences only, but also in that work of cain towards the officers' caste, which was wrought by the revolutionary democracy from the first days of the revolution. as everyone realised that the "new order" and the front itself are on the verge of collapse, it was obvious that officers should have attempted some organisation to meet such a contingency. but the advocates of action were lying in prison; the chief council of the officers' union, which was best suited for this task, had been broken up by kerensky in the latter days of august. the majority of the responsible leaders of the army were perturbed by a terrible and not unfounded fear for the fate of the russian officers. in this respect the correspondence between general kornilov and general doukhonin is very characteristic. after the bolshevist _coup d'état_ on november ( ), , general kornilov wrote to doukhonin from his prison in bykhov: "foreseeing the further course of events, i think that it is necessary for you to take such measures as would create a favourable atmosphere, while thoroughly safeguarding headquarters, for a struggle against the coming anarchy." among these measures general kornilov suggested "the concentration in moghilev, or in a point near to it, under a reliable guard, of a store of rifles, cartridges, machine-guns, automatic guns and hand-grenades for distribution among the officer-volunteers, who will undoubtedly gather together in this region." doukhonin made a note against this point: "this might lead to excesses." thus the constant morbid fears of an officers' "counter-revolution" proved to be in vain. events took the officers unawares. they were unorganised, bewildered; they did not think of their own safety, and finally scattered their forces. chapter xxiv. the revolution and the cossacks. a peculiar part was played by the cossacks in the history of the revolution. built up historically, in the course of several centuries, the relations of the cossacks with the central government, common to russia, were of a dual character. the government did all to encourage the development of cossack colonisation on the russian south-eastern borders, where war was unceasing. it made allowances for the peculiarities of the warlike, agricultural life of the cossacks, and allowed them a certain degree of independence and individual forms of democratic rule, with representative organs (the kosh, kroog, rada), an elected "army elder" and hetmans. "in its weakness," says solovyov, "the state did not look too strictly on the activities of the cossacks, so long as they were directed only against foreign lands; the state being weak, it was considered needful to give these restless forces an outlet." but the "activities" of the cossacks were more than once directed against moscow as well. this circumstance led to a prolonged internecine struggle, which lasted until the end of the eighteenth century, when, after a ferocious suppression of the pougatchov rebellion, the free cossacks of the south-east were dealt a final blow; they gradually lost their markedly oppositionary character, and even gained the reputation of the most conservative element in the state, the pillars of the throne and the régime. from that time onward the government incessantly showed favour to the cossacks by emphasising their really great merits, by solemn promises to preserve their "cossack liberties,"[ ] and by the appointment of members of the imperial family to honorary posts among the cossacks. at the same time, the government took all measures to prevent these "liberties" from developing to excess at the expense of that ruthless centralisation, which was a historical necessity in the beginning of the building up of the russian state and a vast historical blunder in its later development. to the number of these measures we must refer the limitation of cossack self-government, and, latterly, the traditional appointment to the post of hetman of persons not belonging to the cossack caste, and often complete strangers to the life of the cossacks. the oldest and most numerous cossack army, that of the don, has had generals of german origin at its head more than once. it seemed as if the czarist government had every reason to depend upon the cossacks. the repeated repression of the local political labour and agrarian disturbances which broke out in russia, the crushing of a more serious rising--the revolution of - , in which a great part was played by the cossack troops--all this seemed to confirm the established opinion of the cossacks. on the other hand, sundry episodes of the "repressions," accompanied by inevitable violence, sometimes cruelty, were widely spread among the people, were exaggerated, and created a hostile attitude towards the cossacks at the factories, in the villages, among the liberal _intelligencia_, and especially among those elements which are known as the revolutionary democracy. throughout the whole of the underground literature--in its appeals, leaflets, and pictures--the idea of a "cossack" became synonymous with "servant" of the reactionary party. this definition was greatly exaggerated. the bard of the don cossacks, mitrophan bogayevsky, says of the political character of the cossacks: "the first and fundamental condition which prevented the cossacks, at least in the beginning, from breaking up was the idea of the state, a lawful order, a deep-seated realisation of the necessity of a life within the bounds of law. this seeking of a lawful order runs, and has run, like a scarlet thread through all the circles of all the cossack armies." but such altruistic motives, by themselves, do not exhaust the question. notwithstanding the grievous weight of universal military service, the cossacks, especially those of the south, enjoyed a certain prosperity which excluded that important stimulus which roused against the government and the régime both the workers' class and the peasantry of central russia. an extraordinarily complicated agrarian question set the caste economic interests of the cossacks against the interests of the "outsider"[ ] settlers. thus, for instance, in the oldest and largest cossack army, that of the don, the amount of land secured to an individual farm was, on the average, in _dessiateens_: for cossacks, . to ; for native peasants, . ; for immigrant peasants, . . finally, owing to historical conditions and a narrow territorial system of recruiting, the cossack units possessed a perfectly homogeneous personnel, a great internal unity, and a discipline which was firm, though somewhat peculiar as to the mutual relations between the officers and the privates, and therefore they conceded complete obedience to their chiefs and to the supreme power. with the support of all these motives, the government made a wide use of cossack troops for suppressing popular agitation, and thus roused against them the mute exasperation of the fermenting, discontented masses of the population. in return for their historical "liberties," the cossack armies, as i have said, give all but universal military service. its burden and the degree of relative importance of these troops among the armed forces of the russian empire are shown in the following table: composition of the cossack troops in the autumn of . ---------------+------------+---------------+------------- armies. | cavalry | sotnias not | infantry | regiments. | included | battalions. | | in regiments. | ---------------+------------+---------------+------------- don | | | -- kouban | | | orenburg | | | -- terek | | | ural | | | -- siberian | | | -- trans-baikal | | -- | -- semiretchensk | | | -- astrakhan | | -- | -- amur | | | -- ---------------+------------+---------------+------------- total[ ] | | | ---------------+------------+---------------+------------- partly as cavalry of the line--in divisions and corps, partly as army corps and divisional cavalry--in regiments, sub-divisions and detached _sotnias_, the cossack units were scattered over all the russian fronts, from the baltic to persia. _among the cossacks, as against all the other component parts of the army, desertion was unknown._ at the outbreak of revolution all the political groups, and even the representatives of the allies, devoted great attention to the cossacks--some building exaggerated hopes on them, others regarding them with unconcealed suspicion. the circles of the right looked to the cossacks for restoration; the liberal bourgeoisie, for active support of law and order; while the parties of the left feared that they were counter-revolutionary, and therefore started a strong propaganda in the cossack units, seeking to disintegrate them. this was to some extent assisted by the spirit of repentance which showed itself at all cossack meetings, congresses, "circles" and "radas" at which the late power was accused of systematically rousing the cossacks against the people. the mutual relations between the cossacks and the local agricultural population were unusually complicated, especially in the cossack territories of european russia.[ ] intermingled with the cossack allotments were peasant lands--those of whilom settlers (the indigenous peasantry)--lands let on long lease, on which large settlements had sprung up, finally lands which had been granted by the emperor to various persons and which had gradually passed into the hands of "outsiders." on the basis of these mutual relations dissension now arose which began to assume the character of violence and forcible seizures. with respect to the don army, which gave the keynote to all others, the provisional government considered it necessary to publish on april th an appeal in which, while affirming that "the rights of the cossacks to the land, as they have grown historically, remain inviolable," also promised the "outsider" population, "whose claim to the land is also based on historical rights," that it would be satisfied, in as great a measure as possible, by the constituent assembly. this agrarian puzzle, which surrounded with uncertainty the most tender point of the cossacks' hopes, was explained unequivocally, in the middle of may, by the minister of agriculture, tchernov (at the all-russia peasant congress), who stated that the cossacks held large tracts of land and that now they would have to surrender a portion of their lands. in the cossack territories meanwhile work was in full swing in the sphere of self-determination and self-government; the information supplied by the press was vague and contradictory; no one had yet heard the voice of the cossacks as a whole. one can understand, therefore, that general attention which was concentrated on the all-russia cossack congress, which gathered in petrograd in the beginning of june. the cossacks paid a tribute to the revolution and to the state, referred to their own needs (after all, the question of their holdings was the most vital one), and ... smiled to the soviet.... the impression thus produced was indefinite; neither were the hopes of the one side fulfilled nor the fears of the other dissipated. meanwhile, at the initiative of the revolutionary democracy, a violent propaganda was set on foot for introducing the idea of doing away with the cossacks as a separate caste. but, on the whole, this idea of self-abolition had no success. on the contrary, a growing aspiration spread among the cossacks for maintaining their internal organisation and for the union of all the cossack armies. cossack governments sprang up everywhere, elected hetmans and representative institutions ("circles" and radas), whose authority increased in accordance with the weakening of the authority and power of the provisional government. such eminent men appeared at the head of the cossacks as kaledin (the don), doutov (orenburg), and karaoulov (the terek). a triple power was formed in the cossack territories; the hetman with his government, the commissary of the provisional government, and the soviet.[ ] the commissaries, however, after a short and unsuccessful struggle, soon subsided and exhibited no activity. far more serious became the struggle of the cossack authority with the local soviets and committees, which sought support in the unruly mob of soldiers who flooded the territories under the name of reserve army battalions and rear army units. this curse of the population positively terrorised the land, creating anarchy in the towns and settlements, instituting sacks, seizing lands and businesses, trampling upon all rights, all authority, and creating intolerable conditions of life. the cossacks had nothing with which to combat this violence--all their units were at the front. only in the don territory, accidentally, in the autumn of , not without the deliberate connivance of the stavka, a division was concentrated, and afterwards three divisions, with the aid of which general kaledin attempted to restore order. but all the measures taken by him, as for instance the occupation by armed forces of railway junctions, of the more important mines, and of large centres, which secured normal communication and supplies for the centre and the fronts, were met not only with violent resistance on the part of the soviets and with accusations of counter-revolutionism, but even with some suspicion on the part of the provisional government. at the same time the cossacks of the kouban and of the terek asked the don to send them if only a few _sotnias_, as it was "becoming impossible to breathe for _comrades_." the friendly relations, instituted in the early days of the revolution, between the general russian and the cossack revolutionary democracies were soon broken off finally. "cossack socialism" turned out to be so self-sufficing, so concentrated in its own castes and corporation limits, that it could find no place in that doctrine. the soviets insisted on the equalising of the holdings of the cossacks and the peasants, while the cossacks vigorously defended their right of property and disposal in the cossack lands, basing it on their historical merits as conquerors, protectors, and colonisers of the former marches of russia's territory. the organisation of a general territorial government failed. an internecine struggle began. the consequences were two-fold: the first was a painful atmosphere of estrangement and hostility between the cossacks and the "outsider" population, which later, in the swiftly changing kaleidoscope of the civil war, sometimes assumed monstrous forms of mutual extermination, as the power passed from the hands of one side into those of the other. along with this, one or the other half of the population of the larger cossack territories were generally deemed as participating in the building up and the economy of the land.[ ] the second was the so-called cossack separatism or self-determination. the cossacks had no reason to expect from the revolutionary democracy a favourable settlement of their destiny, especially in the question most vital to it--the land question. on the other hand, the provisional government had also assumed an ambiguous attitude in this matter, and the government power was openly tending to its fall. the future assumed altogether indefinite outlines. hence, independently of the general healthy aspiration towards decentralisation, there appeared among the cossacks, who for centuries had been seeking "freedom," a tendency themselves to secure the maximum of independence, so as to place the future constituent assembly before an accomplished fact, or as the more outspoken cossack leaders put it, "that there should be something from which to knock off." hence a gradual evolution from territorial self-government to autonomy, federation, and confederation. hence, finally--with the intrusion of individual local self-love, ambition, and interests--a permanent struggle began with every principle of an imperial tendency, a struggle which weakened both sides and greatly prolonged the civil war.[ ] it was these circumstances, too, that gave birth to the idea of an independent cossack army, which first arose among the cossacks of the kouban and was not then supported by kaledin and the more imperialistic elements of the don. all that i have related refers mainly to the three cossack bodies (the don, the kouban, and the terek) which form more than sixty per cent. of cossack-dom. but the general characteristic features belong to the other cossack armies as well. along with the alterations in the composition of the provisional government and with the decline of its authority, changes took place in the attitude toward it of cossack-dom, expressing themselves in the resolutions and appeals of the council of the union of the cossack armies, of the hetmans, circles, and governments. if before july the cossacks voted for all possible support to the government and for complete obedience, later, however, _while acknowledging the authority of the government to the very end_, it comes forward in sharp opposition to it on the questions of the organisation of the cossack administration and _zemstvo_, of the employment of cossacks for the repression of rebellious troops and districts and so forth. in october the kouban rada assumes constituent powers and publishes the constitution of the "kouban territory." it speaks of the government in such a manner as the following: "when will the provisional government shake off these fumes (the bolshevist aggression) and put an end, by resolute measures, to these scandals?" the provisional government, being already without authority and without any real power, surrendered all its positions and agreed to peace with the cossack governments. it is remarkable that, even at the end of october, when, owing to the breach of communications, no correct information had yet been received on the don about the events in petrograd and moscow and about the fate of the provisional government, and when it was supposed that its fragments were functioning somewhere or other, the cossack elders, in the person of the representatives of the south-eastern union, then gathering,[ ] sought to get into touch with the government, offering it aid against the bolsheviks, but conditioning this aid with a whole series of economic demands: a non-interest-bearing loan of , , roubles, the state to pay all the expenses of supporting cossack units outside the territory of the union, the institution of a pension fund for all sufferers, and the right of the cossacks to all "spoils of war"(?) which might be taken in the course of the coming civil war. it is not without interest that for a long time pourishkevitch cherished the idea of the transfer of the state duma to the don, as a counterpoise to the provisional government and for the preservation of the source of authority, in case of the fall of the latter. kaledin's attitude towards this proposal was negative. a characteristic indication of the attitude which the cossacks had succeeded in retaining towards themselves in the most varied circles was that attraction to the don which later, in the winter of , led thitherward rodzianko, miliukov, general alexeiev, the bykhov prisoners, savinkov, and even kerensky, who came to general kaledin, in novotcherkassk, in the latter days of november, but was not received by him. pourishkevitch alone did not come, and that only because he was then in prison in petrograd, in the hands of the bolsheviks. and suddenly it turned out that the whole thing was a mystification, pure and simple, that at that time the cossacks had no power left whatever. in view of the growing disorders on the cossack territory, the hetmans repeatedly appealed for the recall from the front of if only part of the cossack divisions. they were awaited with enormous impatience, and the most radiant hopes were built on them. in october these hopes seemed to be on the eve of fulfilment; the cossack divisions had started for home. overcoming all manner of obstacles on their way, retarded at every step by the vikzhel (all-russia executive railway committee) and the local soviets, subjected more than once to insults, disarmament, resorting in one place to requests, in another to cunning, and in some places to armed threats, the cossack units forced their way into their territories. but no measures could preserve the cossack units from the fate which had befallen the army, for the whole of the psychological atmosphere and all the factors of disruption, internal and external, were absorbed by the cossack masses, perhaps less intensively, but on the whole in the same way. the two unsuccessful and, for the cossacks, incomprehensible marches on petrograd, with krymov[ ] and krasnov,[ ] introduced still greater confusion into their vague political outlook. the return of the cossack troops to their homeland brought complete disenchantment with it: they--at least the cossacks of the don, the kouban, and the terek[ ]--brought with them from the front the most genuine bolshevism, void, of course, of any kind of ideology, but with all the phenomena of complete disintegration which we know so well. this disintegration ripened gradually, showed itself later, but at once exhibiting itself in the denial of the authority of the "elders," the negation of all power, by mutiny, violence, the persecution and surrender of the officers, but principally by complete abandonment of any struggle against the soviet power, which falsely promised the inviolability of the cossack rights and organisation. bolshevism and the cossack organisation! such grotesque contradictions were brought to the surface daily by the reality of russian life, on the basis of that drunken debauch into which its long-desired freedom had degenerated. now began the tragedy of cossack life and the cossack family in which an insurmountable barrier had arisen between the "elders" and the "men of the front," destroying their life and rousing the children against their fathers. chapter xxv. national units. in the old russian army the national question scarcely existed. among the soldiery the representatives of the races inhabiting russia experienced somewhat greater hardships in the service, caused by their ignorance or imperfect knowledge of the russian language, in which their training was carried on. it was only this ground--the technical difficulties of training--and perhaps that of general roughness and barbarism, but in no case that of racial intolerance, that often led to that friction, which made the position of the alien elements difficult, the more so that, according to the system of mixed drafting, they were generally torn from their native lands; the territorial system of filling the ranks of the army was considered to be technically irrational and politically--not void of danger. the little russian question in particular did not exist _at all_. the little russian speech (outside the limits of official training), songs and music received full recognition and did not rouse in anyone any feeling of separateness, being accepted as russian, as one's own. in the army, with the exception of the jews, all the other alien elements were absorbed fairly quickly and permanently; the community of the army was in no way a conductor either for compulsory russification or for national chauvinism. still less were national differences to be noticed in the community of officers. qualities and virtues--corporative, military, pertaining to comradeship or simply human, overshadowed or totally obliterated racial barriers. personally, during my twenty-five years of service before the revolution, it never came into my head to introduce this element into my relations as commander, as colleague, or as comrade. and this was done intuitively, not as the result of certain views and convictions. the national questions which _were raised outside the army_, in the political life of the country, interested me, agitated me, were settled by me in one or the other direction, harshly and irreconcilably at times, but always without trespassing on the boundaries of military life. the jews occupied a somewhat different position. i shall return to this question later. but it may be said that, with respect to the old army, this question was of popular rather than of political significance. it cannot be denied that in the army there was a certain tendency to oppress the jews, but it was not at all a part of any system, was not inspired from above, but sprang up in the lower strata and in virtue of complex causes, which spread far outside of the life, customs, and mutual relations of the military community. in any case, the war overthrew all barriers, while the revolution brought with it the repeal, in legislative order, of all religious and national restrictions. with the beginning of the revolution and the weakening of the government, a violent centrifugal tendency arose in the borderlands of russia, and along with it a tendency towards the nationalisation, _i.e._, the dismemberment, of the army. undoubtedly, the need of such dismemberment did not at that time spring from the consciousness of the masses and had no real foundation (i do not speak of the polish formations). the sole motives for nationalisation then lay in the seeking of the political upper strata of the newly formed groups to create a real support for their demands, and in the feeling of self-preservation which urged the military element to seek in new and prolonged formations a temporary or permanent relief from military operations. endless national military congresses began, without the permission of the government and of the high command. all races suddenly began to speak; the lithuanians, the esthonians, the georgians, the white russians, the little russians, the mohammedans--demanding the "self-determination" proclaimed--from cultural national autonomy to full independence inclusive, and principally the immediate formation of separate bodies of troops. finally, more serious results, undoubtedly negative as regards the integrity of the army, were attained by the ukrainian, polish, and partially by the trans-caucasian formations. the other attempts were nipped in the bud. it was only during the last days of the existence of the russian army, in october, , that general shcherbatov, seeking to preserve the roumanian front, began the classification of the army, on a large scale, according to race--an attempt which ended in complete failure. i must add that one race only made no demand for self-determination with regard to military service--the jewish. and whenever a proposal was made from any source--in reply to the complaints of the jews--to organise special jewish regiments, this proposal roused a storm of indignation among the jews and in the circles of the left, and was stigmatised as deliberate provocation. the government showed itself markedly opposed to the reorganisation of the army according to race. in a letter to the polish congress (june st, ) kerensky expressed the following view: "the great achievement of the liberation of russia and poland can be arrived at only under the condition that the organism of the russian army is not weakened, that no alterations in its organisation infringe its unity.... the extrusion from it of racial troops ... would, at this difficult moment, tear its body, break its power, and spell ruin both for the revolution and for the freedom of russia, poland, and of the other nationalities inhabiting russia." the attitude of the commanding element towards the question of nationalisation was dual. the majority was altogether opposed to it; the minority regarded it with some hope that, by breaking their connection with the council of workmen's and soldiers' delegates, the newly created national units might escape the errors and infatuations of democratisation and become a healthy nucleus for fortifying the front and building up the army. general alexeiev resolutely opposed all attempts at nationalisation, but encouraged the polish and tchekho-slovak formations. general brussilov allowed the creation of the first ukrainian formation on his own responsibility, after requesting the supreme commander-in-chief "not to repeal it and not to undermine his authority thereby."[ ] the regiment was allowed to exist. general ruzsky, also without permission, began the esthonian formations,[ ] and so forth. from the same motives, probably, which led some commanders to allow formations, but with a reverse action, the whole of the russian revolutionary democracy, in the person of the soviets and the army committees, rose against the nationalisation of the army. a shower of violent resolutions poured in from all sides. among others, the kiev council of workmen's and soldiers' delegates, about the middle of april, characterised ukrainisation in rude and indignant language, as simple desertion and "hide-saving," and by a majority of against demanded the repeal of the formation of ukrainian regiments. it is interesting to note that as great an opponent of nationalisation was found in the polish "left," which had split off from the military congress of the poles in june, because of the resolution for the formation of polish troops. the government did not long adhere to its original firm decision against nationalisation. the declaration of july nd, along with the grant of autonomy to the ukraine, also decided the question of nationalising the troops: "the government considers it possible to continue its assistance to a closer national union of the ukrainians in the ranks of the army itself, or to the drafting into individual units of ukrainians exclusively, in so far as such a measure does not injure the fighting capacity of the army ... and considers it possible to attract to the fulfilment of those tasks the ukrainian soldiers themselves, who are sent by the central rada to the war ministry, the general staff, and the stavka." a great "migration of peoples" began. other ukrainian agents journeyed along the front, organising ukrainian _gromadas_ and committees, getting resolutions passed for transfers to ukrainian units, or concerning reluctance to go to the front under the plea that "the ukraine was being stifled" and so forth. by october the ukrainian committee of the western front was already calling for armed pressure on the government for the immediate conclusion of peace. petlura affirmed that he had , ukrainian troops at his disposal. yet the commander of the kiev military district, colonel oberoutchev,[ ] bears witness as follows: "at the time when heroic exertions were being made to break the foe (the june advance) _i was unable to send a single soldier to reinforce the active army_. as soon as i gave an order to some reserve regiment or other to send detachments to reinforce the front, a meeting would be called by a regiment which had until then lived, peaceably, without thinking of ukrainisation, the yellow and blue ukrainian flag would be unfurled and the cry raised: 'let us march under the ukrainian flag!' "and after that they would not move. weeks would pass, a month, but the detachments would not stir, either under the red, or under the blue and yellow flag." was it possible to combat this unconcealed care for their own safety? the answer is given by oberoutchev again--an answer very characteristic in its lifeless party rigour: "of course, i could have used force to get my orders obeyed. and that force lay in my hands." but "by using force against the disobedient, who are acting under the ukrainian flag, one risks the reproach that one is struggling not against acts of anarchy, but against national freedom and the self-determination of nations. and for me, a socialist-revolutionary, to risk such a reproach, and in the ukraine too, with which i had been connected all my life, was impossible. and so i decided to resign."[ ] and he resigned. true, it was only in october, shortly before the bolshevist _coup d'état_, having occupied the post of commander of the troops in the most important district next the front for nearly five months. as a development of the orders of the government, the stavka appointed special divisions on each front for ukrainisation, and on the south-western front also the th army corps, which was under the command of general skoropadsky. to these units, which were mostly quartered in the deep reserve, the soldiers flocked from the whole front, without leave asked or given. the hopes of the optimists on the one hand and the fears of the left circles on the other that nationalisation would create "firm units" (counter-revolutionary in the terminology of the left) were speedily dispersed. the new ukrainian troops were permeated with the same elements of disintegration as the regulars. meanwhile, among the officers and old soldiers of many famous regiments with a great historical past, now transformed into ukrainian units, this measure roused acute pain and the recognition that the end of the army was near.[ ] in august, when i was in command of the south-western front, bad news began to come to me from the th army corps. the corps seemed to be escaping from direct subordination, receiving both directions and reinforcements from the "general secretary petlura" directly. his commissary was attached to the staff of the corps, over which waved the "yellow-blue flag." the former russian officers and sergeants, left in the regiments because there was no ukrainian command, were treated with contumely by the often ignorant ukrainian ensigns set over them and by the soldiers. an extremely unhealthy atmosphere of mutual hostility and estrangement was gathering in these units. i sent for general skoropadsky and invited him to moderate the violent course of the process of ukrainisation and, in particular, either to restore the rights of the commanders or to release them from service in the corps. the future hetman declared that a mistaken idea had been formed of his activity, probably because of the historical past of the skoropadsky family,[ ] that he was a true russian, an officer of the guards and was altogether free of all seeking for self-determination, that he was only obeying orders, for which he himself had no sympathy. but immediately afterwards skoropadsky went to the stavka, whence my staff received directions to aid the speedy ukrainisation of the th army corps. the question of the polish formations was in a somewhat different position. the provisional government had declared the independence of poland, and the poles now counted themselves "foreigners"; polish formations had long ago existed on the south-western front, though they were breaking up (with the exception of the polish lancers); having given permission to the ukrainians, the government could not refuse it to the poles. finally, the central powers, by creating the appearance of polish independence, also had in view the formation of a polish army, which, however, ended in failure. america also formed a polish army on french territory. in july, , the formation of a polish corps was assigned to the western front, of which i was then commander-in-chief. at the head of the corps i put general dovbor-mousnitsky,[ ] who is now in command of the polish army at poznan. a strong, energetic, resolute man, who fearlessly waged war on the disintegration of the russian troops and on the bolshevism among them, he succeeded in a short time in creating units which, if not altogether firm, were, in any case, strikingly different from the russian troops in their discipline and order. it was the old discipline, rejected by the revolution--without meetings, commissaries or committees. such units roused another attitude towards them in the army, notwithstanding the rejection of nationalisation in principle. being supplied with the property of the disbanded mutinous divisions and treated with complaisance by the chief of supplies, the corps was soon able to organise its own commissariat. by order, the ranks of the officers in the polish corps were filled by the transfer of those who desired it, and the ranks of the soldiers--exclusively by volunteers or from reserve battalions; practically, however, the inevitable current from the front set in, caused by the same motives which influenced the russian soldiers, devastating the thinned ranks of the army. in the end the polish formations turned out to be altogether useless to us. even at the june military congress of the poles, fairly unanimous and unambiguous speeches were heard which defined the aims of these formations. their synthesis was thus expressed by one of the delegates: "it is a secret for no one that the war is coming to an end, and we need the polish army, not for the war, not for fighting; we need it so that at the coming international conference we may be reckoned with, that there should be power at our backs." and indeed the corps did not make its appearance at the front--it is true that it was not yet finally formed; it did not wish to interfere in the "home affairs" of the russians (october and later--the struggle against bolshevism) and soon assumed completely the position of "a foreign army," being taken over and supported by the french command. but neither were the hopes of the polish nationalists fulfilled. in the midst of the general break-down and fall of the front in the beginning of and after the irruption of the germans into russia, part of the corps was captured and disarmed, part of it dispersed and the remnants of the polish troops afterwards found a hospitable asylum in the ranks of the volunteer army. personally, i cannot but say a good word for the st polish corps, to the units of which, quartered in bykhov, we owe much in the protection of the lives of general kornilov and the other bykhov prisoners, in the memorable days of september to november. centrifugal forces were scattering the country and the army. to class and party intolerance was added the embitterment of national dissensions, partly based on the historically-created relations between the races inhabiting russia and the imperial government, and partly altogether baseless, absurd, fed by causes which had nothing in common with healthy national feeling. latent or crushed at an earlier date, these dissensions broke out rudely at just that moment, unfortunately, when the general russian authority was voluntarily and conscientiously taking the path of recognition of the historical rights and the national cultural self-determination of the component elements of the russian state. [illustration: general alexeiev's (centre) farewell.] chapter xxvi. may and the beginning of june in the sphere of military administration--the resignation of gutchkov and general alexeiev--my departure from the stavka--the administration of kerensky and general brussilov. on may st the minister of war, gutchkov, left his post. "we wished," so he explained the meaning of the "democratisation" of the army which he tried to introduce, "to give organised forms and certain channels to follow, to that awakened spirit of independence, self-help and liberty which had swept over all. but there is a line, beyond which lies the beginning of the ruin of that living, mighty organism which is the army." undoubtedly that line was crossed even before the first of may. i am not preparing to characterise gutchkov, whose sincere patriotism i do not doubt. i am speaking only of the system. it is difficult to decide who could have borne the heavy weight of administering the army during the first period of the revolution; but, in any case, gutchkov's ministry had not the slightest grounds to seek the part of guiding the life of the army. it did not lead the army. on the contrary, submitting to a "parallel power" and impelled from below, the ministry, somewhat restively, _followed the army_, until it came right up to the line, beyond which final ruin begins. "to restrain the army from breaking up completely under the influence of that pressure which proceeded from the socialists, and in particular from their citadel--the soviet of workmen's and soldiers' delegates--to gain time, to allow the diseased process to be absorbed, to help the healthy elements to gain strength, such was my aim," wrote gutchkov to kornilov in june, . the whole question is whether the resistance to the destroying powers was resolute enough. the army did not feel this. the officers read the orders, signed by gutchkov, which broke up completely the foundations of military life and custom. that these orders were the result of a painful internal drama, a painful struggle and defeat--this the officers did not know, nor did it interest them. their lack of information was so great that many of them even now, four years later, ascribe to gutchkov the authorship of the celebrated "order no. ." however it may be, the officers felt themselves deceived and deserted. their difficult position they ascribed principally to the reforms of the minister of war, against whom a hostile feeling arose, heated still more by the grumbling of hundreds of generals removed by him and of the ultra-monarchical section of the officers, who could not forgive gutchkov his supposed share in the preparation of the palace _coup d'état_ and of the journey to pskov.[ ] thus the resignation of this minister, even if caused "by those conditions, in which the government power was placed in the country, and in particular the power of the minister of the army and the navy with respect to the army and the fleet,"[ ] had another justification as well--the want of support among the officers and the soldiery. in a special resolution the provisional government condemned gutchkov's action in "resigning responsibility for the fate of russia," and appointed kerensky minister of the army and the navy. i do not know how the army received this appointment in the beginning, but the soviet received it without prejudice. kerensky was a complete stranger to the art of war and to military life, but could have been surrounded by honest men; what was then going on in the army was simple insanity, and this even a civilian might have understood. gutchkov was a representative of the bourgeoisie, a member of the right, and was distrusted; now, perhaps, a socialist minister, the favourite of the democracy, might have succeeded in dissipating the fog in which the soldiers' consciousness was wrapped. nevertheless, to take up such a burden called for enormous boldness or enormous self-confidence, and kerensky emphasised this circumstance more than once when speaking to an army audience: "at a time when many soldiers, who had studied the art of war for decades, declined the post of minister of war, i--a civilian, accepted it." no one, however, had ever heard that the ministry of war had been offered to a soldier that may. the very first steps taken by the new minister dissipated our hopes: the choice of collaborators, who were even greater opportunists than their predecessors, but void of experience in military administration and in active service;[ ] the surrounding of himself with men from "underground"--perhaps having done very great work in the cause of the revolution, but without any comprehension of the life of the army--all this introduced into the actions of the war ministry a new party element, foreign to the military service. a few days after his appointment kerensky issued the declaration of the rights of the soldier, thereby predestining the entire course of his activity. on may th the minister was passing through moghilev to the front. we were surprised by the circumstance that the passage was timed for a.m., and that only the chief-of-staff was invited into the train. the minister of war seemed to avoid meeting the supreme commander-in-chief. his conversation with me was short and touched on details--the suppression of some disturbances or other that had broken out at one of the railway junctions and so forth. the most capital questions of the existence of the army and of the coming advance, the necessity for unity in the views of the government and the command, the absence of which was showing itself with such marked clearness--all this, apparently, did not attract the attention of the minister. among other things, kerensky passed a few cursory remarks on the inappropriateness of generals gourko and dragomirov, commanders-in-chief of fronts, to their posts, which drew a protest from me. all this was very symptomatic and created at the stavka a condition of tense, nervous expectation. kerensky was proceeding to the south-western front, to begin his celebrated verbal campaign which was to rouse the army to achievement. the _word_ created hypnosis and self-hypnosis. brussilov reported to the stavka that throughout the army the minister of war had been received with extraordinary enthusiasm. kerensky spoke with unusual pathos and exaltation, in stirring "revolutionary" images, often with foam on his lips, reaping the applause and delight of the mob. at times, however, the mob would turn to him the face of a wild beast, the sight of which made words to stick in the throat and caused the heart to fail. they sounded a note of menace, these moments, but fresh delight drowned their alarming meaning. and kerensky reported to the provisional government that "the wave of enthusiasm in the army is growing and widening," and that a definite change in favour of discipline and the regeneration of the army was displaying itself. in odessa he became even more irresistibly poetical: "in your welcome i see that great enthusiasm which has overwhelmed the country and feel that great exaltation which the world experiences but once in hundreds of years." let us be just. kerensky called on the army to do its duty. he spoke of duty, honour, discipline, obedience, trust in its commanders; he spoke of the necessity for advancing and for victory. he spoke in the language of the established revolutionary ritual, which ought to have reached the hearts and minds of the "revolutionary people." sometimes, even, feeling his power over his audience, he would throw at it the words, which became household words, of "rebel slaves" and "revolutionary tyrants." in vain! at the conflagration of the temple of russia, he called to the fire: "be quenched!" instead of extinguishing it with brimful pails of water. words could not fight against facts, nor heroic poems against the stern prose of life. the replacement of the motherland by liberty and revolution did not make the aims of the conflict any clearer. the constant scoffing at the old "discipline," at the "czar's generals," the reminders of the knout, the stick, and the "former unprivileged condition of the soldier" or of the soldier's blood "shed in vain" by someone or other--nothing of this could bridge the chasm between the two component parts of the army. the passionate preaching of a "new, conscious, iron revolutionary discipline," _i.e._, a discipline based on the "declaration of the rights of the soldier"--a discipline of meetings, propaganda, political agitation, absence of authority in the commanders, and so forth--this preaching was in irreconcileable opposition to the call to victory. having received his impressions in the artificially exalted, theatrical atmosphere of meetings, surrounded both in the ministry and in his journeyings, by an impenetrable wall of old political friends and of all manner of delegations and deputations from the soviets and the committees, kerensky looked on the army through the prism of their outlook, either unwilling or unable to sink himself in the real life of the army and in its torments, sufferings, searchings, and crimes, and finally to attain a real standing-ground, get at vital themes and real words. these everyday questions of army life and organisation--dry in their form and deeply dramatic in their content--never served as themes for his speeches. they contained only a glorification of the revolution and a condemnation of certain perversions of the idea of national defence, created by that revolution itself. the masses of the soldiery, eager for sentimental scenes, listened to the appeals of the recognised chief for self-sacrifice, and they were inflamed with the "sacred fire"; but as soon as the scene was over, both the chief and the audiences reverted to the daily occupations: the chief--to the "democratisation" of the army, and the masses--to "deepening the revolution." in the same way, probably, djerzinsky's executioners in soviet russia now admire, in the temple of proletarian art, the sufferings of young werther--before proceeding to their customary occupation of hanging and shooting. at any rate, there was much noise. so much, that hindenburg sincerely believes even to this day that in june, , the south-western front was commanded by kerensky. in his book _aus meinem leben_ the german field-marshal relates that kerensky succeeded brussilov, "who was swept away from his post by the rivers of russian blood which he shed in galicia and macedonia (?) in " (the field-marshal has confused the theatres of war), and tells the story of kerensky's "advance" and victories over the austrians near stanislavov. * * * * * meanwhile life at the stavka was gradually waning. the wheels of administration were still revolving, everybody was doing something, issuing orders and giving directions. the work was purely formal, because all the plans and directions of the stavka were upset by unavoidable and incalculable circumstances. petrograd never took the stavka into serious account, but at that time the attitude of the government was somewhat hostile, and the war ministry was conducting the work of reorganisation without ever consulting the stavka. this position was a great burden to general alexeiev, the more so that the attacks of his old disease became more frequent. he was extremely patient and disregarded all personal pin-pricks and all efforts at undermining his prerogatives which emanated from the government. in his discussions with numerous army chiefs, and organisations which took advantage of his accessibility, he was likewise patient, straightforward, and sincere. he worked incessantly, in order to preserve the remnants of the army. seeking to give an example of discipline, he protested but obeyed. he was not sufficiently strong and masterful by nature to compel the provisional government and the civilian reformers of the army to take the demands of the supreme command into account; at the same time, he never did violence to his conscience in order to please the powers that be or the mob. on may th, kerensky stopped for a few hours at moghilev on his way home from the south-western front. he was full of impressions, praised brussilov, and expressed the view that the general spirit at the front and the relations between officers and men were excellent. although in his conversation with alexeiev kerensky made no hint, we noticed that his entourage was somewhat uneasy, and realised that decisions in regard to certain changes had already been taken. i did not consider it necessary to acquaint the supreme commander-in-chief with these rumours, and merely seized the first opportunity for postponing his intended visit to the western front so as not to put him into a false position. in the night of the nd a telegram was received dismissing general alexeiev and appointing general brussilov by order of the provisional government. the quartermaster-general josephovitch woke up alexeiev and handed him the telegram. the supreme commander-in-chief was deeply moved, and tears came down his cheeks. may the members of the provisional government who are still alive forgive the vulgarity of the language: in a subsequent conversation with me the supreme commander-in-chief inadvertently uttered the following words: "the cads! they have dismissed me like a servant without notice." a great statesman and military leader had thus left the stage, whose virtue--one of many--was his implicit loyalty (or was it a defect?) to the provisional government. on the next day kerensky was asked--at a meeting of the soviet--what steps he had taken in view of the supreme commander-in-chief's speech at the officers' conference (see chapter xxiii). he replied that alexeiev had been dismissed, and that he, kerensky, believed that a late french politician was right in saying that "discipline of duty" should be introduced from the top. the bolshevik rosenfeldt (kamenev) expressed satisfaction, because this decision fully coincided with the repeated demands of the soviet. on the same day the government published an official communiqué to the effect that: "in spite of the fact that general alexeiev was naturally very tired and needed rest from his arduous labours, it was considered impossible to lose the services of this exceptionally experienced and talented leader, and general alexeiev was therefore to remain at the disposal of the provisional government." the supreme commander-in-chief issued the following order of the day as a farewell to the armies. "for nearly three years i have walked with you along the thorny path of the russian army. your glorious deeds have filled me with joyful elation, and i was filled with sorrow in the days of our reverses. but i continued with implicit hope in providence, in the mission of the russian people, and in the prowess of the russian soldier. now that the foundations of our military power are shattered, i still preserve the same faith, as life would not be worth living without it. i reverently salute you, my comrades in arms, all those who have done their duty faithfully, all those whose hearts beat with the love of their country, all those who in the days of the popular turmoil were determined not to allow the mother country to be disrupted. i, the old soldier, and your late supreme commander-in-chief, once more reverently salute you. pray think kindly of me." (signed) general alexeiev. towards the end of our work in common my intercourse with general alexeiev was one of cordial friendship. in parting with me, he said: "all this structure will undoubtedly soon collapse. you will have to resume work once again. would you then agree to work with me again?" i naturally expressed my readiness to collaborate in the future. brussilov's appointment signified definite elimination of the stavka, as a decisive factor, and a change in its direction. brussilov's unrestrained and incomprehensible opportunism, and his endeavour to gain the reputation of a revolutionary, deprived the commanding staffs of the army of the moral support which the former stavka still gave them. the new supreme commander-in-chief was given a very frigid and dry reception at moghilev. instead of the customary enthusiastic ovation to which the "revolutionary general" had been accustomed, whom the mob had carried shoulder high at kamenetz-podolsk, he found a lonely railway station and a strictly conventional parade. faces were sulky and speeches were stereotyped. brussilov's first steps, insignificant but characteristic episodes, had a further disheartening effect. as he was reviewing the guard of honour of men with the cross of st. george, he did not greet their gallant wounded commander, colonel timanovsky, or the officers, but shook hands with the men--the messenger and the orderly. they were so much perturbed by the unexpected inconvenience of such greetings on parade that they dropped their rifles. brussilov handed to me his order of the day intended as a greeting to the armies, which he had written in his own hand, and asked me to send it to kerensky for approval. in his speech to the members of the stavka, who had foregathered to bid farewell to general alexeiev, brussilov tried to make excuses. for excuses they were--his confused explanations of the sin of "deepening the revolution" with kerensky and "democratising" the army with the committees. the closing sentence of his order, addressed to the retiring chief, sounded, therefore, out of tune: "your name will always remain unstained and pure as that of a man who has worked incessantly and has given himself entirely to the service of the army. in the dark days of the past and in the present turmoil you have had the courage, resolutely and loyally, to oppose violence, to combat mendacity, flattery, subservience, to resist anarchy in the country and disruption in the ranks of its defenders." my activities were disapproved by the provisional government as much as those of general alexeiev, and i could not work with brussilov owing to fundamental differences of opinion. i presume that during kerensky's visit to the south-western front, brussilov agreed with his suggestion of appointing general lukomsky chief-of-staff. i was therefore surprised at the conversation which took place on the first day of brussilov's arrival. he said to me: "well, general, i thought i was going to meet a comrade-in-arms and that we were going to work together at the stavka, but you look very surly." "that is not quite true. i cannot stay at the stavka any longer. i also know that general lukomsky is to supersede me." "what? how have they dared to appoint him without my knowledge?" we never touched upon that subject again. i continued to work with brussilov for about ten days pending my successor's arrival, and i must confess that work was unpleasant from the moral point of view. from the very first days of the war brussilov and i had served together. for the first month i was quartermaster-general on the staff of his eighth army, then for two years in command of the th rifle division in that same glorious army, and commander of the th army corps on his front. the "iron division" went from victory to victory, and brussilov particularly favoured it and constantly acknowledged its achievements. his attitude towards the commander of the division was correspondingly cordial. i shared with brussilov many hardships as well as many unforgettable happy days of military triumphs. and i found it difficult to speak to him now, for he was a different man and was so recklessly, from the personal point of view--which, after all, did not matter--as well as from the point of view of the interests of the army, throwing his reputation to the four winds. when i reported to him, every question which might be described as "un-democratic," but was, in reality, an endeavour to maintain the reasonable standard of efficiency, was invariably negatived. argument was useless. brussilov sometimes interrupted me and said with strong feeling: "do you think that i am not disgusted at having constantly to wave the red rag? what can i do? russia is sick, the army is sick. it must be cured, and i know of no other remedy." the question of my appointment interested him more than it interested me. i refused to express any definite desire and said that i would accept any appointment. brussilov was negotiating with kerensky. he once said to me, "_they_ are afraid that if i give you an appointment at the front, you will begin to oust the committees." i smiled. "no, i will not appeal to the committees for help, but will also leave them alone." i attributed no importance to this conversation, which was conducted almost in jest; but on the same day a telegram was sent to kerensky, of which the following was the approximate wording: "i have talked it over with deniken. the obstacles have been removed. i request that he be appointed commander-in-chief of the western front." [illustration] [illustration: kerensky addressing soldiers' meeting.] in the beginning of august i proceeded to minsk and took general markov as chief-of-staff of the front. i had no regrets in leaving the stavka. for two months i had worked like a slave and my outlook had widened, but had i achieved anything for the preservation of the army? positive results were nil. there may have been some negative results; the process of disruption of the army had been to a certain extent stayed. and that is all. one of kerensky's assistants, afterwards high commissar, stankevitch, thus describes my activities: "nearly every week telegrams were sent to petrograd (by deniken) containing provocative and harsh criticisms on the new methods in the army; criticisms they were, not advice. is it possible to advise that the revolution should be cancelled." if that was only stankevitch discussing denikin it would not matter. but these views were shared by the wide circles of the revolutionary democracy and referred not to the individual, but to all those who "impersonated the tragedy of the russian army." the appreciation must therefore be answered. yes, the revolution could not be cancelled, and what is more, i may state that the majority of the russian officers, with whom i agreed, _did not wish to cancel the revolution_. they demanded one thing only--that the army should not be revolutionised from the top. none of us could give any other advice. and if the commanding staffs appeared to be "insufficiently tied to the revolution" they should have been mercilessly dismissed and other people--were they but unskilled artisans in military matters--should have been appointed, and given full power and confidence. personalities do not matter. alexeiev, brussilov, kornilov--represent periods and systems. alexeiev protested. brussilov submitted. kornilov claimed. in dismissing these men one after another did the provisional government have a definite idea, or were they simply distracted to the point of convulsion and completely lost in the morass of their own internal dissensions? would it not appear that had the order been changed in which the links had stood in that chain salvation might have ensued? chapter xxvii. my term as commander-in-chief on the western russian front. i took over the command from general gourko. his removal had already been decided on may th, and an order of the day had been drafted at the war ministry. gourko, however, sent a report in which he stated that it was impossible for him to remain morally responsible for the armies under his command in the present circumstances (after the "declaration of the soldier's rights" had been issued). this report afforded kerensky an excuse for issuing on may th an order relieving gourko of his post and appointing him to the command of a division. the motive was adduced that gourko was "not up to the mark," and that "as the country was in danger, every soldier should do his duty and not be an example of weakness to others." also that "the commander-in-chief enjoys the full confidence of the government, and should apply all his energies to the task of carrying out the intentions of the government; to decline to bear the moral responsibility was on general gourko's part tantamount to dereliction of duty, which he should have continued to perform according to his strength and judgment." not to speak of the fact that gourko's dismissal had already been decided, suffice it to recall similar instances, such as the resignations of gutchkov and miliukov, in order to realise the hypocrisy of these excuses. and what is more--kerensky himself, during one of the government crises caused by the uncompromising attitude of the "revolutionary democracy," had threatened to resign, and had stated in writing to his would-be successor, nekrassov, that: "owing to the impossibility of introducing into the government such elements as were required in the present exceptional circumstances, he could no longer bear the responsibility before the country according to his conscience and judgment, and requested therefore to be relieved of all his duties." the papers said that he had "departed from petrograd." on october th, as we know, kerensky fled, abandoning the post of supreme commander-in-chief. the old commanding staffs were in a difficult position. i refer not to men of definite political convictions, but of the average honest soldier. they could not follow kerensky (the system, not the man) and destroy with their own hands the edifice which they had themselves spent their lives in building. they could not resign because the enemy was on russian soil and they would be deserters according to their own conscience. it was a vicious circle. upon my arrival at minsk i addressed two large gatherings of members of the staff and departments of the front, and later the army commanders, and expounded my fundamental views. i did not say much, but stated clearly that i accepted the revolution without any reservations. i considered, however, that to "revolutionise" the army was a fatal procedure, and that to introduce demagogy into the army would mean the ruin of the country. i declared that i would oppose it with all my might and invited my collaborators to do the same. i received a letter from general alexeiev, who wrote: "congratulations on your appointment. rouse them! make your demands calmly but persistently. i trust that the revival will come without coaxing, without red ribbons, without sonorous and empty phrases. the army cannot continue as it is now, for russia is being transformed into a multitude of idlers who have an exaggerated idea of their own importance (value their movements in gold). i am in heart and in thought with you, with your work and with your wishes. god help you." the committee of the front impersonated at minsk "military politics." on the eve of my arrival that semi-bolshevik organisation had passed a resolution protesting against an advance and in favour of the struggle of united democracies against their governments; this naturally helped to define my attitude towards that body. i had no direct intercourse with the committee, which "stewed in its own juice," argued the matter of preponderant influences of the social democratic and social revolutionary factions, passed resolutions which puzzled even the army committees by their demagogic contents, distributed defeatist pamphlets, and incensed the men against their chiefs. according to the law, the committees were not responsible and could not be tried. the committee was educating in the same sense the pupils of the "school for agitators," who were afterwards to spread these doctrines along the front. i will quote one instance showing the real meaning of these manifestations "of civic indignation and sorrow." pupils of the school often appealed to the chief-of-staff and sent in "demands." on one occasion the demand for an extra pair of boots was couched in offensive terms. general markov refused it. on the next day a resolution was published (in the paper _the front_, no. ) of the conference of pupils of the school of agitators to the effect that they had personally tested the reluctance of headquarters to take elective organisations into account. the pupils declared that the committee of the front will find in them and in those who sent them full support against "counter-revolution," and even armed assistance. was work in common possible in these circumstances? the idea of the advance was finally, however, accepted by the committee of the front, which demanded that from itself and from army committees "fighting committees of contact" be established which would be entitled to partake in the drafting of plans of operations to control the commanding officers and headquarters of the advancing troops, etc. i naturally refused the request, and a conflict ensued. the war minister was very much perturbed, and sent to minsk the chief of his chancery, colonel baronovsky, a young staff officer who prompted kerensky in all military matters, and the commissar stankevitch, who remained at the western front for two days, was removed to the northern front and replaced by kalinin. baronovsky's friends afterwards told me that the question of my dismissal had been raised in view of "friction with the committee of the front." stankevitch appeased the committee and "fighting committees of contact" were allowed to take part in the advance, but were denied the right of control over the operations and of assisting in drawing up plans. * * * * * of the three army commanders at that front, two were entirely in the hands of the committees. as their sectors were inactive, their presence could be temporarily tolerated. the advance was to begin on the front of the th army, commanded by general kisselevsky, in the region of molodetchno. i inspected the troops and the position, interviewed the commanding officers and addressed the troops. in the preceding chapters i have recounted impressions, facts, and episodes of the life of the western front. i will, therefore, mention here only a few details. i saw the troops on parade. some units had preserved the appearance and the routine of the normal pre-revolutionary times. these, however, were exceptions, and were to be found chiefly in the army corps of general dovbor-mussnitzki, who was persistently and sternly maintaining the old discipline. most of the units, however, were more akin to a devastated ants-nest than to an organised unit, although they had retained a semblance of discipline and drill. after the review i walked down the ranks and spoke to the soldiers. i was deeply depressed by their new mental attitude. their speeches were nought but endless complaints, suspicions and grievances against everyone and everything. they complained of all the officers, from the platoon commander to the army corps commander, complained of the lentil soup, of having to stand at the front for ever, of the next regiment of the line, and of the provisional government for being implacably hostile to the germans. i witnessed scenes which i shall not forget till my last hour. in one of the army corps i asked to be shown the worst unit. i was taken to the rd suram regiment. we drove up to a huge crowd of unarmed men who were standing, sitting, wandering about the plain behind the village. having sold their clothes for cash or for drink, they were dressed in rags, bare-footed, ragged, unkempt, and seemed to have reached the utmost limit of physical degradation. i was met by the divisional commander, whose lower lip trembled, and by a regimental commander who had the face of a condemned man. nobody gave the order "attention!" and none of the soldiers rose. the nearest ranks moved towards our motor cars. my first impulse was to curse the regiment and turn back. but that might have been interpreted as cowardice, so i went into the thick of the crowd. i stayed there for about an hour. good heavens, what was the matter with these men, with the reasonable creature of god, with the russian field-labourer? they were like men possessed, their brain dimmed, their speech stubborn and completely lacking logic or common-sense; their shrieks were hysterical, full of abuse and foul swearing. we tried to speak, but the replies were angry and stupid. i remember that my feelings of indignation as an old soldier receded to the background and i merely felt infinitely sorry for these uncouth, illiterate russians to whom little was given and of whom little will, therefore, be asked. one wished that the leaders of the revolutionary democracy had been on that plain and had seen and heard everything. one wished one could have said to them: "it is not the time to find out who is guilty, it doesn't matter whether the guilt is ours, yours, of the bourgeoisie or of autocracy. give the people education and an 'image of man' first, and then socialise, nationalise, communise, if the people will then follow you." the same suram regiment, a few days later, gave a sound thrashing to sokolov, the man who drafted order no. , the creator of the new régime for the army, because he demanded, in the name of the soviet, that the regiment should do its duty and join in the advance. after visiting the regiment, in compliance with persistent invitations from a special delegation, i went to a conference of the nd caucasian army corps. the members of that conference had been elected; their discussions were more reasonable and their aims more practical. among the various groups of delegates whom our _aides-de-camp_ had joined, the argument was put forward that, as the commander-in-chief and all the senior commanding officers were present, would it not be expedient to finish them off at once? that would put an end to the advance. to meet the senior commanding officer was by no means a consolation. one of the army corps commanders led his troops with a firm hand, but experienced strong pressure from the army organisations; another was afraid to visit his troops. i found the third in a state of complete collapse and in tears because someone had passed a vote of censure upon him: "and this after forty years' service! i loved the men and they loved me, but now they have dishonoured me, and i cannot serve any longer!" i had to allow him to retire. in the next room a young divisional commander was already in secret consultation with members of the committee, who immediately requested me, in a most peremptory fashion, to appoint the young general to the command of the army corps. the visit left me with a painful impression. disruption was growing and my hopes were waning; and yet one had to continue the work, of which there was plenty for all of us. the western front lived by theory and by the experience of others. it had won no striking victories, which alone can inspire confidence in the methods of warfare, and had no real experience in breaking through the defensive line of the enemy. one was very often compelled to discuss the general plan, the plan of artillery attack, and to establish the points of initiative with those who were to carry out the general plan. we found the greatest difficulty in preparing the plans for storming a position. owing to demoralisation, every movement of troops, every relief, trench digging, bringing batteries into position, either were not carried out at all, or else attended by delays, tremendous efforts or persuasion, and meetings. every slightest excuse was made use of in order to avoid preparations for the advance. owing to the technical unpreparedness of the positions, the chiefs had to perform the arduous and unnatural task of making tactical considerations subservient to the qualities of the commanding officers, instead of giving directions to the troops in accordance with tactical considerations. the degree of the demoralisation of different units and the condition of different sectors of a given firing line, purely accidental, had also to be taken into account. and yet the statement that our technical backwardness was one of the reasons of our collapse in should be accepted with reservations. of course, our army was backward, but in it was infinitely better equipped, had more guns and ammunition and wider experience of her own and of other fronts than in . our technical backwardness was a relative factor which was present at all times in the great war before the revolution, but was remedied in , and cannot, therefore, be taken into account as a decisive feature in estimating the russian revolutionary army and its work in the field. it was the work of sisyphus. the commanding officers gave their heart and soul to the work because in its success they saw the last ray of hope for the salvation of the army and of the country. technical difficulties could be overcome, as long as the moral could be raised. brussilov arrived and addressed the regiment. as a result, the officer commanding the th army was relieved against my will ten days before the decisive advance. and it was not without difficulty that i secured the appointment of general lomnovsky, the gallant commander of the th army corps, who had arrived at the front ten days before the action. there was an unpleasant misunderstanding about brussilov's visit. headquarters had mistakenly informed the troops that kerensky was coming. this substitution provoked strong discontent among the troops. many units declared that they were being deceived, and that unless comrade kerensky himself orders them to advance they would not advance. the nd caucasian division sent delegates to petrograd to make inquiries. and efforts had to be made to appease them by promising that comrade kerensky was due to arrive in a few days. the war minister had to be invited. kerensky came reluctantly, because he was already disillusioned by the failure of his oratorical campaign on the south-western front. for several days he reviewed the troops, delivered speeches, was enthusiastically received and sometimes unexpectedly rebuked. he interrupted his tour, as he was invited to hurry to petrograd on july th, but he returned with renewed energy and with a new up-to-date theme, making full use of the "knife with which the revolution had been stabbed in the back" (the petrograd rising of july rd- th). having, however, completed his tour and returned to the stavka, he emphatically declared to brussilov: "i have no faith whatsoever in the success of the advance." kerensky was equally pessimistic in those days with regard to another matter, the future destinies of the country. he discussed in conversation with myself and two or three of his followers, the stages of the russian revolution, and expressed the conviction that whatever happened we should not escape the reign of terror. the days went by and the advance was further delayed. as early as on june th, i issued the following order of the day to the armies of my front: "the russian army of the south-western front have this day defeated the enemy and broken through his lines. a decisive battle has begun on which depends the fate of the russian people and of its liberties. our brethren on the south-western front are victoriously advancing, sacrificing their lives and expecting us to render them speedy assistance. we shall not be traitors. the enemy shall soon hear the roaring of our guns. i appeal to the troops of the western front to make every effort and to prepare as soon as possible for an advance, otherwise we shall be cursed by the russian people who have entrusted to us the defence of their liberty, honour, and property." i do not know whether those who read this order, published in the papers in complete contravention of all the conditions of secrecy of operation, understood all the inner tragedy of the russian army. all strategy was turned topsy-turvy. the russian commander-in-chief, powerless to advance his troops and thus alleviate the position of the neighbouring front, wanted (even at the cost of exposing his intentions) to hold the german divisions which were being moved from his front and sent to the south-western and the allied front. the germans responded immediately by sending the following proclamation to the front: "russian soldiers! your commander-in-chief of the western front is again calling on you to fight. we know of his order, and also know of the false report that our line to the south-east of lvov has been broken. do not believe it. in reality thousands of russian corpses are lying before our trenches. an advance will never lead to peace. if, nevertheless, you obey the call of your commanders, who are bribed by england, then we shall continue the struggle until you are overthrown." finally, on july th, the thunder of our guns was heard. on july th the storming began, and three days after i was on my way from the th army to minsk, with despair in my heart, and clearly recognising that the last hope of a miracle was gone. chapter xxviii. the russian advance in the summer of --the dÉbÂcle. the russian offensive which had been planned for the month of may was being delayed. at first a simultaneous advance on all fronts had been contemplated; later, however, owing to the psychological impossibility of a forward movement on all fronts, it was decided to advance gradually. the western front was of secondary importance, and the northern was intended only for demonstration. they should have moved first in order to divert the attention and the forces of the enemy from the main front--the south-western. the first two of the above-named fronts were not, however, ready for the advance. the supreme command finally decided to abandon the strategical plan and to give the commanders of various fronts a free hand in starting operations as the armies would be ready, provided these operations were not delayed too long and the enemy was not given the opportunity of carrying out re-groupings on a large scale. even such a strategy, simplified as it had been owing to the revolution, might have yielded great results, considering the world-wide scope of the war; if the german armies on the eastern front could not have been utterly defeated, that front might at least have been restored to its former importance. the central powers might have been compelled to send to that front large forces, war material and munitions, thus severely handicapping hindenburg's strategy and causing him constant anxiety. the operations were finally fixed for the following dates: they were to begin on the south-western front on june th, on the western on july th, on the northern on july th, and on the roumanian on july th. the last three dates almost coincide with the beginning of the collapse (july th- th) of the south-western front. as mentioned above, in june, , the revolutionary democracy had already acquiesced in the idea that an advance was necessary, although this acquiescence was qualified. the offensive thus had the moral support of the provisional government, the commanding staffs, all the officers, the liberal democracy, the defencist coalition of the soviet, the commissars, of nearly all army committees, and of many regimental committees. against the offensive the minority of the revolutionary democracy was ranged--the bolsheviks, the social-revolutionaries of tchernov's and of martov's (zederbaum) group. there was a small appendix to this minority--the democratisation of the army. at the moment of writing i do not possess a complete list of the russian armies, but i may confidently assert that on all sectors upon which the advance had been planned we had a numerical and a technical superiority over the enemy, more especially in guns, of which we had larger quantities than ever. it fell to the lot of the south-western front to test the fighting capacity of the revolutionary army. the group of armies under general bohm-ermolli (the th and nd austrian armies and the southern german armies) stood between the upper sereth and the carpathians (brody-nadvorna) on the position north of the dniester which we had captured after brussilov's victorious advance in the autumn of . south of the dniester stood the rd austrian army of general kirchbach, which formed the left wing of the archduke joseph's carpathian front. our best army corps, which were intended as shock troops, were opposed to the last three armies mentioned above. these austro-german troops had already been dealt many heavy blows by the russian armies in the summer and in the autumn of . since then, the southern german divisions of general botmer, which had been hard hit, had been replaced by fresh troops from the north. although the austrian armies had been to a certain extent reorganised by the german high command and reinforced by german divisions, they did not represent a formidable force and, according to the german headquarters, were not fit for active operations. since the germans had occupied the cherviche "place d'armes" on the stokhod, hindenburg's headquarters had given orders that no operations should be conducted, as it was hoped that the disruption of the russian army and of the country would follow its natural course, assisted by german propaganda. the germans estimated the fighting capacity of our army very low. nevertheless, when hindenburg realised in the beginning of june that a russian advance was a contingency to be reckoned with, he moved six divisions from the western-european front and sent them to reinforce the group of armies of bohm-ermolli. the enemy was perfectly well aware of the directions in which we intended to advance.... the russian armies of the south-western front, commanded by general gutor, were to strike in the main direction of kamenetz-podolsk-lvov. the armies were to move along both banks of the dniester: general erdely's th army in the direction of zlochev, general selivatchev's th army towards brjeczany, and general kornilov's th army towards galitch. in the event of victory we would reach lvov, break through between the fronts of bohm-ermolli and the archduke joseph, and would drive the latter's left wing to the carpathians, cutting it off from all available natural means of communication. the remainder of our armies on the south-western front were stretched along a broad front from the river pripet to brody for active defence and demonstration. on june th the guns of the shock troops of the th and th army opened a fire of such intensity as had never been heard before. after two days of continuous fire, which destroyed the enemy's strong position, the russian regiments attacked. the enemy line was broken between zvorov and brjeczany on a front of several miles; we took two or three fortified lines. on june th the attack was renewed on a front of forty miles, between the upper strypa and the narauvka. in this heavy and glorious battle the russian troops took three hundred officers and eighteen thousand men prisoners in two days, twenty-nine guns, and other booty. the enemy positions were captured on many sectors, and we penetrated the enemy lines to an average depth of over two miles, driving him back to the strypa in the direction of zlochev. the news of our victory spread all over russia, evoked universal rejoicings, and raised the hopes for the revival of the former strength of the russian army. kerensky reported to the provisional government as follows: "this day is the day of a great triumph for the revolution. on june th the russian revolutionary army, in very high spirits, began the advance and has proved before russia and before the world its ardent devotion to the cause of the revolution and its love of country and liberty.... the russian warriors are inaugurating a new discipline based upon feelings of a citizen's duty.... an end has been made to-day of all the vicious calumnies and slander about the organisation of the russian army, which has been rebuilt on democratic lines...." the man who wrote these words had afterwards the courage to claim that it was not he who had destroyed the army, because he had taken over the organisation as a fatal inheritance! after three days' respite, a violent battle was resumed on the front of the th army on both sides of the railway line on the front batkuv-koniuchi. by that time the threatened german regiments were reinforced, and stubborn fighting ensued. the th army captured several lines, but suffered heavy losses. the trenches changed hands several times after a hand-to-hand battle, and great efforts had to be made in order to break the resistance of the enemy, who had been reinforced and had recovered. this action practically signified the end of the advance of the th and th armies. the impetus was spent and the troops began once more to sit in the trenches, the monotony of this pastime being only broken in places by local skirmishes, austro-german counter-attacks, and intermittent gunfire. meanwhile preparations for the advance began on june rd in kornilov's army. on june th his troops broke through general kirchbach's positions west of stanislavov and reached the line of jesupol-lyssetz. after a stubborn and sanguinary battle kirchbach's troops, utterly defeated, ran and dragged along in their headlong flight the german division which had been sent to reinforce them. on the th general cheremissov's right column captured galitch, some of his troops crossed the dniester. on the th the left column overcame the stubborn resistance of the austro-germans and captured kalush. in the next two or three days, the th army was in action on the river lomnitza and finally established itself on the banks of the river and in front of it. in the course of this brilliant operation kornilov's army broke through the rd austrian army on a front of over twenty miles and captured officers, , men, and about guns. the capture of lomnitza opened to kornilov the road to dolina-stryi and to the communications of botmer's army. german headquarters described the position of the commander-in-chief of the western front as _critical_. general bohm-ermolli meanwhile was concentrating all his reserves in the direction of zlochev, the point to which the german divisions were likewise sent which had been taken from the western european front. some of the reserves had to be sent, however, across the dniester against the th russian army. they arrived on july nd, reinforced the shattered ranks of the rd austrian army, and from that day positional battles began on the lomnitza, with varying success, and occasionally stubborn fighting. the concentration of the german shock troops between the upper sereth and the railway line tarnopol-zlochev was completed on july th. on the next day, after strong artillery preparations, this group attacked our th army, broke our front and moved swiftly towards kamenetz-podolsk, pursuing the army corps of the th army who were fleeing in panic. the army headquarters, the stavka and the press, losing all perspective, blamed the th mlynov regiment as the chief cause of the catastrophe. the demoralised, worthless regiment had left the trenches of their own accord and opened the front. it was, of course, a very sad occurrence, but it would be naïve to describe it even as an excuse. for as early as on the th of july the committees and commissars of the th army were telegraphing to the provisional government: "the truth and nothing but the truth about the events." "the german offensive on the front of the th army, which began on july th, is growing into an immeasurable calamity which threatens perhaps the very existence of revolutionary russia. the spirit of the troops, that were prompted to advance by the heroic efforts of the minority, has undergone a decisive and fatal change. the impetus of the advance was soon spent. most of the units are in a condition of increasing disruption. there is not a shadow of discipline or obedience; persuasion is likewise powerless and is answered by threats and sometimes by shootings. cases have occurred when orders to advance immediately to reinforce the line were debated for hours at meetings, and reinforcements were twenty-four hours late. some units arbitrarily leave the trenches without even waiting for the enemy to advance.... for hundreds of miles strings of deserters--healthy, strong men who thoroughly realise their impunity--are to be seen moving along with rifles or without.... the country should know the whole truth. it will shudder and will find the strength to fall with all its might upon all those whose cowardice is ruining and bartering russia and the revolution." the stavka wrote: "in spite of its enormous numerical and technical superiority, the th army was retreating uninterruptedly. on the th of july it had already reached the serenth, never halting at the very strong fortified position to the west of the river, which had been our starting point in the glorious advance of . bohm-ermolli had detached some of his forces for the pursuit of the russian troops in the direction of tarnapol and had moved his main forces southwards between the serenth and the strypa, threatening to cut off the communication of the th army, to throw them into the dniester and, perhaps, cut off the retreat of the th army. on july th the austro-germans had already reached mikulinze, a distance of one march south of tarnapol.... the armies of general selivatchev and cheremissov (who had succeeded general kornilov upon the latter's appointment on july th to the high command of the south-western front) were in great difficulty. they could not hope to resist the enemy by manoeuvring, and all that was left to them was to escape the enemy's blows by forced marches. the th army was in particularly dire straits, as it was retreating under the double pressure of the army corps of general botmer, who was conducting a frontal attack, and of the troops of bohm-ermolli, striking from the north against the denuded right flank. the th army had to march over one hundred miles under pressure from the enemy. on july th the austro-germans advanced to the line mikulinze-podgaitze-stanilavov. on the th the germans occupied tarnapol, abandoned without fighting by the st guards army corps. on the next day they broke through our position on the rivers gniezno and sereth, south of trembovlia, and developed their advance in the eastern and south-eastern directions. on the same day, pursuing the th and th armies, the enemy occupied the line from the sereth to monsaterjisko-tlumatch. on the th july, seeing that the position was desperate, the commander-in-chief issued orders for a retreat from the sereth, and by the st the armies of the south-western front, having cleared galicia and bukovina, reached the russian frontier. their retreat was marked by fires, violence, murders and plunder. a few units, however, fought the enemy stubbornly and covered the retreat of the maddened mob of deserters by sacrificing their lives. among them were russian officers, whose bodies covered the battlefields. the armies were retreating in disorder; the same armies that, only a year ago, had captured lutsk, brody-stanislavov, chernovetz in their triumphal progress ... were retreating before the same austro-german troops that only a year ago had been completely defeated and had strewn with fugitives the plains of volynia, galicia and bukovina, leaving hundreds of thousands of prisoners in our hands. we shall never forget that in brussilov's advance of , the th, th, th and th armies took , prisoners, guns, , , machine guns, etc. our allies are not likely to forget this either; they know full well that the loud echo of the galician battle sounded on the somme and at goritza. the commissars savinkov and filonenko telegraphed to the provisional government: "there is no choice; the traitors must be executed.... capital punishment must be meted out to all those who refuse to sacrifice their lives for their country...." in the beginning of july, after the russian advance had ostensibly failed, it was decided at hindenburg's headquarters to undertake a new extensive operation against the roumanian front by a simultaneous advance of the rd and th austrian armies across bukovina into moldavia and of the right group of general mackensen on the lower sereth. the objective was to seize moldavia and bessarabia. but on july th the russian army of general ragosa and the roumanian army of general averesco took the offensive between the rivers susitsa and putna against the th austrian army. the attack was successful, the enemy positions were captured, the armies moved forward several miles, took , prisoners and over guns, but the operation was not developed. owing to the natural conditions of the theatre of war and to the direction in which the operation was undertaken, it was more akin to a demonstration in order to relieve the south-western front. also the troops of the th russian army soon lost all impetus for the advance. in july and until august th, the troops of the archduke joseph and of mackensen attacked in several directions and gained local successes, but without any appreciable result. although the russian divisions repeatedly disobeyed orders and occasionally left the trenches during the battle, yet the condition of the roumanian front was somewhat better than that of the other front, owing to its distance from petrograd, to the presence of disciplined roumanian troops and to the natural conditions of the country. for these reasons we were able to keep that front somewhat longer. this circumstance, together with the apparent weakness of the austrian armies, especially the rd and the th, and the complete dislocation of the communications of bohm-ermolli's group and of the archduke joseph's left wing--caused hindenburg's headquarters indefinitely to postpone the operation, and a period of calm ensued along the entire south-western front. on the roumanian front local actions were fought until the end of august. at the same time, german divisions began to move from the sbrucz northwards in the direction of riga. hindenburg's plan was to deal the russian army local blows, without straining his own resources or spending large reserves, so urgently needed, on the western-european front. by these tactics he intended to contribute to the natural course of the collapse of the russian front, for it was upon this collapse that the central powers based all their calculations in regard to operations and even in regard to the possibility of continuing the campaign in . our efforts at advancing on other fronts also ended in complete failure. on the th of july operations began on the western front, which i commanded. the details will be given in the next chapter. of this operation ludendorf wrote: "of all the attacks directed against the former eastern front of general eichhorn, the attacks of july th, south of smorgom, and at krevo were particularly fierce.... for several days the position was extremely difficult until our reserves and our gunfire restored the front. the russians left our trenches; they were no longer the russians of the old days." on the northern front, in the th army, everything was over in one day. the stavka wrote: "south-west of the dvinsk our troops, after strong artillery preparation, captured the german position across the railway dvinsk-vilna. subsequently, entire divisions, without pressure from the enemy, deliberately retreated to their own trenches." the stavka noted the heroic behaviour of several units, the prowess of the officers and the tremendous losses which the latter had suffered. this fact, however unimportant from the strategical point of view, deserves to be specially noted. as a matter of fact, the th army was commanded by general danilov (afterwards a member of the bolshevik delegation at brest-litovsk. he served in in the russian army in the crimea). he enjoyed exceptional prestige with the revolutionary democracy. according to stankevitch, the commissar of the northern front, danilov "was the only general who had remained, in spite of the revolution, full master in the army and had succeeded in so dealing with the new institutions--the commissars and the committees--that they strengthened his authority instead of weakening it.... he knew how to make use of these elements, and he overcame all obstacles in a spirit of complete self-control and firmness. in the th army everyone was working, learning and being educated.... as the best and the most cultured elements of the army were working to that end." this is a striking proof of the fact that even when the commanding officer becomes thoroughly familiar with revolutionary institutions, this does not serve as a guarantee of the fighting capacity of his troops. * * * * * on july th kornilov, upon his appointment to the chief command of the south-western front, sent to the provisional government his well-known telegram, of which he forwarded a copy to the supreme commander-in-chief. in that telegram, already quoted above, kornilov demanded the reintroduction of capital punishment, and wrote: "... i declare that the country is on the verge of collapse and that, although i have not been consulted, i _demand_ that the offensive be stopped on all fronts in order that the army may be saved, preserved and re-organised on the basis of strict discipline, and in order that the lives may not be sacrificed of a few heroes who are entitled to see better days." in spite of the peculiar wording of this appeal, the idea of stopping the advance was immediately accepted by the supreme command, the more so that the operations had practically come to a standstill irrespective of orders as a result of the reluctance of the russian army to fight and to advance, as well as of the schemes of the german headquarters. capital punishment and revolutionary courts-martial were introduced at the front. kornilov gave an order to shoot deserters and robbers and to expose their bodies with corresponding notices on the roads and in other prominent places. special shock battalions were formed of cadets and volunteers to fight against desertion, plunder and violence. kornilov forbade meetings at the front and gave an order to stop them by the force of arms. these measures--which were introduced by kornilov at his own risk and peril, his manly, straightforward utterances, and the firm tone in which, disregarding discipline, he began to address the provisional government, and last, but not least, his resolute action--considerably enhanced his authority with the wide circles of liberal democracy and with the officers. even the revolutionary democracy within the army, stunned and depressed as it was by the tragic turn of events, saw in kornilov, for some time after the _débâcle_, the last resource and the only possible remedy in the desperate position. it may be stated that the date of july th, on which kornilov took command of the south-western front and addressed his first demand to the provisional government, sealed his fate: in the eyes of many people he became a national hero and great hopes were centred upon him--he was expected to save the country. during my stay at minsk i was not very well informed of the unofficial tidings prevailing in military circles, yet i felt that the centre of moral influence had moved to berditchev (headquarters of the south-western front). kerensky and brussilov had somehow suddenly receded to the background. a new method of administration was put into practice: we received from kornilov's headquarters copies of his "demands" or notices of some strong and striking decision he had adopted, and in a few days these were repeated from petrograd or from the stavka, but in the shape of an order or of a regulation. the tragedy of july undoubtedly had a sobering effect upon the men. in the first place, they were ashamed because things had happened that were so shameful and so disgraceful that even the dormant conscience and the deadened spirit of the men could not find excuses for these happenings. several months later, in november, after fleeing from the captivity of bykhov, i spent several days under an assumed name and in civilian clothes among the soldiers who had flooded all the railways. they were discussing the past. i never heard a single man confessing openly or cynically his participation in the treachery of july. they all tried to explain away the matter and chiefly attributed it to somebody's treason, especially, of course, the treason of the officers. none spoke of his own treachery. in the second place, the men were frightened. they felt that a kind of power, a kind of authority had arisen, and they were quietly waiting for developments. lastly, operations had ended and nervous tension had been relieved--which caused a certain reaction, apathy and indifference. _this was the second occasion (the first took place in march) on which, had the moment been immediately and properly taken advantage of--it might have been the turning point in the history of the russian revolution._ as the sounds were dying out of the last shots fired at the front, the men who had been stunned by the disaster began to recover their senses. kerensky was the first to return to sanity. the horror had passed away, the nerve-wrecking, maddening fear which had prompted the issue of the first stringent order. kerensky's will-power was dominated by his fear of the soviet, of the danger of definitely losing all prestige with the revolutionary democracy by resentment against kornilov for the resolute tone of the latter's messages and by the shadow of the potential dictator. the drafts of military regulations by which it was intended to restore the power of the commanding officers and of the army were drowned in red tape and in the turmoil of personal conflicts, suspicions and hatreds. the revolutionary democracy once again sternly opposed the new course, as it interpreted this course as an infringement upon the liberties and as a menace to its own existence. the same attitude was adopted by the army committees, whose powers were to be curtailed as a first step in the proposed changes. in these circles the new course was described as counter-revolutionary. the masses of the soldiery, on the other hand, soon appraised the new situation. they saw that stern words were mere words, that capital punishment was only a bogy, because there was no real force capable of mastering their arbitrariness. so fear vanished again. the hurricane did not clear the close and tense atmosphere. new clouds were overhanging and peals of a new deafening thunder were to be heard in the distance. [illustration: general kornilov's arrival at petrograd.] [illustration: general kornilov in the trenches.] chapter xxix. the conference at the stavka of ministers and commanders-in-chief on july th. upon my return from the front to minsk i was summoned to the stavka at moghilev, where a conference was to be held on july th. kerensky suggested that brussilov should invite, of his own accord, the prominent military chiefs, in order to discuss the actual condition of the front, the consequences on the july disaster, and to determine the course of future military policy. it transpired that general gourko, who had been invited by brussilov, had not been admitted to the conference by kerensky. a telegram was sent to kornilov from the stavka saying that, in view of the difficult position of the south-western front, his attendance was impossible, and that he was requested to present in writing his views on the questions under discussion. it should be noted that, at that time, on july th and th, the th army was in full retreat from the sereth to the zbrucz, and that everyone was anxious to hear whether the th army had succeeded in crossing the lower sereth and the th the line of zalestchiki, thus avoiding the blows of the german armies that were trying to cut their retreat. so sad was the plight of the country and the army that i decided to disclose to the conference the full truth on the condition of the army in all its hideous nakedness, and in disregard of all conventionalities. i reported myself to the supreme commander-in-chief. brussilov surprised me. he said: "i have come to the conclusion that this is the limit and we must put the question squarely. all these commissars, committees and democratisations are driving the army and russia to ruin. i have decided categorically to demand that they should cease to disorganise the army. i hope that you will back me?" i answered that this was in full accord with my intentions and that the object of my visit was to put the question squarely of the future destinies of the army. i must confess that brussilov's words reconciled me with him and i therefore decided to eliminate from my speech all the bitter things which i had intended to say against the supreme command. we waited about an hour and a half for the conference to meet. we afterwards learnt that a small incident had occurred. the prime minister had not been met at the station either by brussilov or by his chief-of-staff (general lukomsky), who had been detained by urgent military business. kerensky waited for some time and grew nervous. he finally sent his _aide-de-camp_ to brussilov with the order to come to the station at once and to report. the incident was not commented upon, but all those who have been in touch with politics know that the actors on that stage are mere men, with all their weaknesses, and that the game is often continued behind the curtain. the conference was attended by the prime minister kerensky, the foreign minister terestchenko, the supreme c.-in-c. brussilov, his chief-of-staff general lukomsky, generals alexeiev and ruzsky, the c.-in-c. of the northern front general klembovsky, by myself as c.-in-c. of the western front, and by my chief-of-staff general markov, admiral maximov, generals velitchko and romanovsky, the commissar of the western front savinkov, and two or three young men of kerensky's suite. general brussilov addressed the conference in a short speech, which struck me as being very vague and commonplace. in fact, he said nothing at all. i had hoped that brussilov would keep his word and would sum up the situation and draw conclusions. i was mistaken. brussilov did not speak again. i opened the discussion. i said: "it is with deep emotion and in full consciousness of a grave responsibility that i am delivering my report to the conference. i beg to be excused if i speak as openly and frankly as i have always done. i was outspoken with the old autocracy, and intend to be just as outspoken with the new--the revolutionary autocracy. "when i took command of the front, i found the armies in a state of complete disruption. this seemed the more strange that neither in the reports received at the stavka or in those i received upon taking over the command had the situation been described in such gloomy colours. the explanation is obvious: as long as the army corps were not conducting active operations, excesses were comparatively few; but no sooner was the order given for doing the duty of a soldier, for taking up positions or for the advance, than the instinct of self-preservation asserted itself and the picture of disruption was unveiled. some ten divisions refused to take up positions. all commanding officers of all grades had to work very hard, to argue, to persuade.... in order to be able to carry out the slightest measure of any importance, it became imperative to reduce the numbers of mutinous troops. a whole month was thus lost, although some divisions obeyed orders. disruption was rampant in the nd caucasian corps and in the th infantry division. several units had lost human appearance, not only morally but physically. i shall never forget the hour which i spent in the rd suram regiment. there were up to ten private stills in each regiment; drunkenness, cardplaying, rioting, plunder and even murder. i took a drastic step. i sent the nd caucasian corps (except the st infantry division and the th infantry division) to the rear and ordered them to be disbanded. before the operation had developed, i thus lost about , bayonets without firing a shot. the th and th infantry divisions, which were considered the best, were sent to occupy the sector of the caucasians. what happened? the th division, after a forced march to its destination, returned on the next day almost in its entirety (two and a half regiments). the th division sent one regiment to the trenches, and that regiment passed a resolution against advancing. every possible measure was taken in order to raise the spirit of the troops. the supreme commander-in-chief visited the front. from his conversations with the members of committee and with the men elected from two army corps he gathered the impression that 'the soldiers were all right, but the commanding officers had lost heart.' that is not so. the commanding officers did all they could in extremely difficult and painful surroundings, but the supreme commander-in-chief is unaware of the fact that the meeting of the st siberian corps, where his speech was most enthusiastically received, continued after his departure. new speakers came forward and appealed to the men not to listen to the 'old bourgeois' (forgive me, that is so.... brussilov interjected: "i do not mind") and they heaped vile abuse upon his head. these appeals were also enthusiastically greeted. the war minister, who visited the troops and by his fiery eloquence incited them to deeds of valour, was enthusiastically received by the th division. upon his return to the train he was met by a regimental deputation which announced that half an hour after the minister had gone the regiment, as well as another one, had decided not to advance. the picture was particularly moving and evoked great enthusiasm when, in the th division, the commanding officer of the poti infantry regiment knelt to receive the red banner. the men swore--there were three speakers and passionate cheering--to die for the country. on the first day of the advance the regiment did not reach our trenches, but turned round in a disgraceful manner and retreated six miles behind the battlefield. "the commissars and the committee were among the factors which were meant to give moral support to the troops, but practically contributed to their demoralisation. among the commissars there may have been favourable exceptions of men who did a certain amount of good without interfering with other people's business. but the institution itself cannot fail to contribute to the disruption of the army because it implies a dual power, friction and interference uncalled for and criminal. i am compelled to describe the commissars of the western front. one of them, for all i know, may be a good and honest man, but he is an utopian and not only ignorant of army life, but of life in general. he has a great idea of his own importance. in demanding that the chief-of-staff should obey his orders, he declares that he is entitled to dismiss commanding officers, including the general officer commanding the army. in explaining to the troops the extent of his authority, he thus describes it: 'as the fronts are subordinate to the war minister, i am the war minister for the western front.' another commissar, who knows about as much of army life as the first one, is a social democrat standing somewhere on the verge between bolshevism and menchevism. he is the noted reporter of the military section of the all-russian congress of soviets who has expressed the view that the army has not been sufficiently disorganised by the 'declaration' and demanded further 'democratisation.' he claimed the right for the men to veto appointments of commanding officers, insisted upon part of paragraph of the declaration which empowered the commanding officers to use arms against cowards and traitors being cancelled, and upon freedom of speech being granted not only off parade, but on duty. the rd commissar, who was not a russian, and who appeared to treat the russian soldier with contempt, in addressing the regiment used such foul language as had never fallen from the commanding officers under the czar's régime. curiously enough the conscious and free revolutionary warriors accept such treatment as their due and obey him. that commissar, according to the commanding officers, is undoubtedly useful. "the committees are another disintegrating force. i do not deny that some of the committees have done excellent work, and have done their best to fulfil their duty. in particular some of their members have been exceedingly useful, and have rendered their country the supreme service of dying the death of heroes. but i affirm that the good they have done will not compensate for the tremendous mischief done to the army by the introduction of all these new authorities, by friction, by interference, and by discrediting the commands. i might quote hundreds of resolutions bearing that stamp, but will confine myself merely to the most blatant cases. the struggle for seizing power in the army is carried on openly and systematically. the chairman of the committee of the front has published in his paper an article advocating that governmental powers be granted to the committee. the army committee of the rd army has passed the resolution, which to my intense surprise was endorsed by the commanding officer, requesting 'that the army committees be invested with the plenary powers of the war minister and of the central committee of the soviets which would entitle them to act in the name of that committee.' when the famous 'declaration' was discussed opinions varied in the committee of the front in regard to paragraph . some members wanted the second part to be eliminated; others demanded that a proviso be added empowering the members of the committee of the front to take the same measures including armed force against the same persons, and even against the commanding officers themselves. is that not the limit? in the report of the all-russian congress a demand is formulated for the soldiers' committees to be allowed to cancel appointments of commanding officers, and to partake in the administration of the army. you must not think that this is merely theory. far from it. the committees endeavour to get hold of everything, to interfere with purely military questions, with the routine and the administration. and this is being done in an atmosphere of complete anarchy caused by wholesale insubordination. "moral preparations for the advance were proceeding apace. on june th the committee of the front passed a resolution against the advance, but changed its mind on the th. the committee of the nd army decided against the offensive on june st, but cancelled its decision on june th. in the minsk soviet votes against decided against the advance. all the committees of the th infantry division passed a vote of censure on the provisional government, and described the offensive as "treason to the revolution." the campaign against the authorities manifested itself in a series of dismissals of senior commanders, in which the committees almost invariably participated. shortly before the opening of the operations an army corps commander, the chief-of-staff, and a divisional commander of the most important sector occupied by the shock troops, had to resign, and the same fate was shared by about commanding officers, from army corps commander to regimental commander. it is impossible to estimate the amount of harm done by the committee. they have no proper discipline of their own. if the majority passes a reasonable resolution, that does not suffice. it is put into practice by individual members of the committee. taking advantage of their position as members of army committees, the bolsheviks have more than once spread mutiny and rebellion with impunity. as a result, authority is undermined instead of being strengthened, because so many different individuals and institutions are supposed to exercise that authority. and the commander in the field, who is being discredited, dismissed, controlled and watched from all sides, is nevertheless expected to lead the troops into action with a strong hand. such was the moral preparation. the troops have not yet been deployed. but the south-western front required immediate assistance. the enemy had already removed from my front to the south-west three or four divisions. i decided to attack with the troops which presented at least a semblance of loyalty. in three days our guns had smashed the enemy trenches and wrought havoc among them, had inflicted heavy losses among the germans, and had opened the way for our infantry. the first line had been almost entirely broken, and our men had already visited the enemy batteries. that breach of the front promised to develop into a great victory, for which we had been hoping for so long.... i now revert to descriptions of the battle. 'the units of the th infantry division took up their positions only four hours before the attack; of the th regiment only two and a half companies, with four machine-guns and officers, reached the appointed line; only one-half of the th came up. two battalions of the th regiment, who had occupied the defiles, refused to advance; men of the th regiment retired to the rear in batches. units of the th division were met by a strong artillery fire, machine-gun and rifle fire, and remained behind their barbed wire, as they were incapable of advancing. only a few shock troops and volunteers of the volga regiment, with a company of officers, succeeded in capturing the first line, but the fire was so strong that they failed to keep the position, and towards the afternoon units of the th division returned to their original lines after suffering heavy losses, especially in officers. on the sector of the st division the attack began at five minutes past seven. the nd gori regiment and the th ardagan-michailovsky regiment, as well as two companies of the sukhum regiment, with a shock company of the poti regiment, made a dash across two lines of trenches, bayoneted the enemy, and began to storm the third line at half-past seven. the break was so rapid and so unexpected that the enemy failed to establish a barrage. the st poti regiment, which was following the advance troops, approached our first line of trenches, but refused to go any further, so that our troops who had broken through were not reinforced in time. the units of the th division, which followed, could not carry out their orders because the men of the poti regiment had crowded in the trenches, while the enemy had opened a very strong gun fire. these units, therefore, partly dispersed and partly lay in our trenches. seeing that no reinforcements were forthcoming from the rear and from the flanks, the men of the gori and ardagan regiments lost heart, and some of the companies, in which all the officers had been killed, began to retire. they were followed by the remainder of the troops without, however, any pressure from the germans, who did not put their batteries and machine-guns into action until the retreat had begun.... the units of the th division were late in going into position, because the men advanced reluctantly, as their mood had changed. a quarter of an hour before the appointed time the th regiment on the right flank refused to advance, and the erivan regiment had to be drawn up from the army corps reserves. for some unknown reason the th and th regiments also failed to move.... after this failure desertion began to grow, and at dawn became general. the men were tired, nervous; they had lost the habit of fighting, and were unaccustomed to the roar of the guns owing to long months of inactivity, of fraternisation, and of meetings. they left the trenches _en masse_, they abandoned the machine-guns and retired to the rear.... _the headquarters of the th army corps sent the following report of the battle: 'the cowardice and lack of discipline in certain units reached such a pitch that the commanding officers were compelled to ask our artillery to cease firing, because the fire of our own guns caused a panic among our soldiers.'_ "i will quote another description of the battle made by an army corps commander who took command on the eve of battle, and whose impressions are therefore totally unbiassed: '... everything was ready for the advance: the plan had been worked out in detail; we had a powerful and efficient artillery; the weather was favourable because it did not allow the germans to take advantage of their superiority in aircraft; we had superior numbers, our reserves were drawn up in time, we had plenty of ammunition, and the sector was well chosen for the advance, because we were in a position to conceal strong artillery forces in the close neighbourhood of our trenches. the undulations of ground also afforded many hidden approaches to the front; the distance between ourselves and the enemy was small, and there were no natural obstacles between us which would have had to have been forced under fire. finally, the troops had been prepared by the committees, the commanding officers and the war minister, kerensky, and their efforts induced the troops to take the first, the most arduous steps. we attained considerable success without suffering appreciable losses. three fortified lines had been broken through and occupied, and there remained only separate defensive positions. the fighting might soon have reached the phase of bayonet fighting; the enemy artillery was silenced, over , germans, many machine-guns and other booty had been captured. also, our guns had inflicted heavy casualties in killed and wounded upon the enemy, and it may be confidently stated that the forces that were opposing our corps had been temporarily knocked out. along the entire front of our corps only three or four enemy batteries and occasionally three or four machine-guns were firing, and there were isolated rifle shots. but--night came. immediately i began to receive anxious reports from officers commanding sectors at the front to the effect that the men were abandoning the unattacked front line _en masse_, entire companies deserting. it was stated in some of the reports that the firing line in places was only occupied by the commanding officer, his staff, and a few men. the operations ended in an irretrievable and hopeless failure. in one day we had lived through the joy of victory, which had been won in spite of the low spirits of the men, as well as the horror of seeing the fruits of victory deliberately cast away by the soldiery. and yet the country needed that victory for its very life. i realised that we, the commanding officers, are powerless to alter the elemental psychology of the men, and i wept long and bitterly.' "this inglorious operation, however, resulted in serious losses, which it is now difficult to estimate, as crowds of fugitives returned daily. over , wounded men have already passed through sorting stations in the rear. i will refrain at present from drawing any conclusion, but the percentage of various kinds of wounds is symptomatic: per cent. heavily wounded, per cent. finger and wrist wounds, per cent. light wounds from which bandages were not removed at the dressing stations (many wounds were probably simulated), and per cent. bruised and sick. such was the end of the operation. i have never yet gone into battle with such superiority in numbers and technical means. never had the conditions been more full of such brilliant promise. on a front of about miles i had battalions against enemy battalions; guns against german: of my battalions came into action against german battalions of the st line. all that was wasted. reports from various commanders indicate that the temper of the troops immediately after the operation was just as indefinite as before. three days ago i summoned the army commanders and addressed to them the question: 'could their armies resist a strong enemy attack, provided reserves were forthcoming?' the answer was in the negative. 'could the armies resist an organised german offensive in their present condition, numerical and technical?' two of the army commanders gave indefinite replies, and the commanding officer of the th army answered in the affirmative. they all said: 'we have no infantry.' i will go further, and i will say: "_we have no army. it is necessary immediately, and at all costs to create that army._ the new government regulations, which are supposed to raise the spirit of the army, have not yet penetrated into its depths, and the impression they have produced cannot yet be defined. one thing is certain--that repression alone cannot drag the army out of the morass into which it has fallen. it is repeated every day that the bolsheviks have caused the disruption of the army, but i disagree. it is not so. the army has been disrupted by others, and the bolsheviks are like worms which have bred in the wounds of the army. the army has been disrupted by the regulations of the last four months, and it is the bitter irony of fate that this has been done by men who, however honest and idealistic, are unaware of the historical laws governing the existence of the army, of its life and routine. at first this was done under pressure from the soviet, which was primarily an anarchist institution. later it developed into a fatal, mistaken policy. soon after the war minister had taken up his duties he said to me: 'the process of revolutionising the country and the army has been completed. now we must proceed with creative work....' i ventured to reply: 'the process is completed, but it is too late.'" general brussilov here interrupted me, and asked me to curtail my report, as the conference would otherwise be too protracted. i realised that the length of the report was not what mattered, but it was its risky substance, and i replied: "i consider that this question is of paramount importance, and request that i be allowed to complete my statement, otherwise i shall have to cease speaking." a silence ensued, which i interpreted as a permission to continue. i then proceeded: "the declaration of the soldiers' rights has been issued. every one of the commanding officers has stated that it would bring about the ruin of the army. the late supreme c.-in-c., general alexeiev, telegraphed that the declaration was the last nail which was being driven into the coffin prepared for the russian army. the present supreme c.-in-c., when in command of the south-western front, declared here, at moghilev, at the conference of commanders-in-chief, that the army may yet be saved and may advance, but on one condition--if the declaration is not issued. our advice, however, was unheeded. paragraph of the declaration authorises free and open expressions of political, religious, social, and other views. the army was thus flooded by politics. when the men of the nd caucasian grenadier division were disbanded they were quite sincerely puzzled. 'what is the reason? we were allowed to speak whenever and whatever we wished, and now we are being disbanded....' you must not think that such a broad interpretation of the 'liberties' is confined to the illiterate masses. when the th infantry division was morally disrupted, and all the committees of that division passed a vote of censure upon the provisional government and categorically refused to advance, i disbanded the division. but there arose an unexpected complication: the commissars came to the conclusion that no crime had been committed, because the spoken and the written word were unrestricted. the only thing that could be incriminated was direct disobedience of army orders.... paragraph stipulates that all literature should be delivered to the addressees, and the army was flooded with criminal bolshevik and defeatist literature. the stuff upon which our army was fed--and apparently at the expense of government funds and of the people's treasure--can be gauged from the report of the moscow military bureau, which alone supplied to the front the following publications: from march th to may st-- , copies of the _pravda_ , " " _soldiers' pravda_ , " " _social democrat_ from may st to june th-- , copies of the _soldiers' pravda_ , " " _social democrat_ , " " _pravda_ and so on. the same kind of literature was sent to the villages by the soldiers. "paragraph stipulates that no soldier can be punished without a trial. of course, this liberty applied only to the men, because the officers continued to suffer the heaviest penalty of dismissal. what was the result? the central military justice administration, without reference to the stavka and in view of the impending democratisation of the courts, suggested that the latter should suspend their activities, except for cases of special importance, such, for example, as treason. the commanding officers were deprived of disciplinary powers. disciplinary courts were partly inactive, partly were boycotted. justice completely disappeared from the army. this boycott of disciplinary court and reports on the reluctance of certain units to elect juries are symptomatic. the legislator may come across the same phenomenon in respect of the new revolutionary military courts, in which juries may also have to be replaced by appointed judges. as a result of a series of legislative measures, authority and discipline have been eliminated, the officers are dishonoured, distrusted, and openly scorned. generals in high command, not excluding commanders-in-chief, are being dismissed like domestic servants. in one of his speeches at the northern front the war minister inadvertently uttered the following significant words: 'it lies within my power to dismiss the entire personnel of the high command in twenty-four hours, and the army would not object.' in the speeches addressed to the western front it was said that 'in the czarist army we were driven into battle with whips and machine-guns ... that czarist commanders led us to slaughter, but now every drop of our blood is precious....' i, the commander-in-chief, stood by the platform erected for the war minister, and i was heart-broken. my conscience whispered to me: 'that is a lie. my "iron" rifles, only eight battalions and then twelve, took over , prisoners and guns.... i have never driven them into battle with machine-guns. i have never led my troops to slaughter at mezolaborch, lutovisko, lutsk, chartoriisk.' to the late commander-in-chief of the south-western front these names are indeed familiar.... "everything may be forgiven and we can stand a great deal if it is necessary for victory, if the troops can regain their spirit and can be induced to advance.... i will venture to draw a comparison. sokolov and other petrograd delegates came to our front, to the rd suram regiment. he came with the noble object of combating dark ignorance and moral decrepitude, which were particularly apparent in that regiment. he was mercilessly flogged. we were, of course, revolted against that crowd of savage scoundrels, and everyone was perturbed. all kinds of committees passed votes of censure. the war minister condemned the behaviour of the suram regiment in fiery speeches and army orders, and sent a telegram of sympathy to sokolov. "and here is another story. i well remember january, , near lutovisko. there was a heavy frost. colonel noskov, the gallant one-armed hero, up to the waist in snow, was leading his regiment to the attack under a heavy fire against the steep and impregnable slopes of height .... death spared him then. and now two companies came, asked for general noskov, surrounded him, killed him and went away. i ask the war minister, did he condemn these foul murderers with the whole might of his fiery eloquence, of his wrath and of his power, and did he send a telegram of sympathy to the hapless family of the fallen hero? "when we were deprived of power and authority, when the term 'commanding officer' was sterilised, we have once again been insulted by a telegram from the stavka to the effect that: 'commanding officers who will now hesitate to apply armed force will be dismissed and tried.' no, gentlemen, you will not intimidate those who are ready to lose their lives in the service of their country. "the senior commanding officers may now be divided into three categories: some of them disregarding the hardships of life and service with a broken heart, are doing their duty devotedly to the end; others have lost heart and are following the tide; the third are curiously brandishing the red flag, and mindful of the traditions of the tartar captivity, are crawling before new gods of the revolution as they crawled before the czars. it causes me infinite pain to mention the question of the officers.... it is a nightmare, and i will be brief. when sokolov became familiar with the army, he said: 'i could not imagine that your officers could be such martyrs. i take off my hat to them.' yes, in the darkest days of czarist autocracy, the police and the gendarmerie never subjected the would-be criminal to such moral torture and derision as the officers have to endure at present from the illiterate masses, led by the scum of the revolution. officers who are giving their lives for the country. they are insulted at every turn. they are beaten. yes, beaten. but they will not come and complain to you. they are ashamed, dreadfully ashamed. alone, in their dug-outs, many of them are silently weeping over their dismal fate. no wonder many officers consider that the best solution is to be killed in action. listen to the subdued and placid tragedy of the following words which occur in a field report: 'in vain did the officers marching in front try to lead the men into action. at that a moment a white flag was raised on redoubt no. . fifteen officers and a small batch of soldiers then went forward. their fate is unknown--they did not return.' ( th corps). may these heroes rest in peace and their blood be upon the heads of their conscious and unconscious executioners. "the army is falling to pieces. heroic measures are needed for its salvation: ( ) the provisional government should recognise its mistakes and its guilt, as it has not understood and estimated the noble and sincere impulse of the officers who had greeted the news of the revolution with joy, and had sacrificed innumerable lives for their country. ( ) petrograd, entirely detached from the army, and ignorant of its life and of the historical foundations of its existence, should cease to enact military regulations. full power must be given to the supreme commander-in-chief, who should be responsible only to the provisional government. ( ) politics must disappear from the army. ( ) the 'declaration' must be rescinded in its fundamentals. commissars and committees must be abolished, and the functions of the latter must gradually be altered. ( ) commanding officers must be restored to power. discipline and the outward form of order and good conduct must likewise be restored. ( ) appointments to prominent posts must be made not only according to the standard of youth and strength, but also of experience in the field and in administration. ( ) special law-abiding units of all arms must be placed at the disposal of commanding officers as a bulwark against mutiny, and against the horrors of possible demobilisation. ( ) military revolutionary courts must be established and capital punishment introduced in the rear for the troops and for civilians guilty of the same crimes. "if you ask me whether these measures are likely to produce good results, i will answer frankly: yes, but not at once. it is easy to destroy the army, but time is needed for its reconstruction. the measures i suggest would at least lay the foundations for the creation of a strong army. in spite of the disruption of the army, we must continue the struggle, however arduous it may be, and we must even be prepared to retreat into the depths of the country. our allies should not count upon immediate relief through our advance. even in retreating and remaining on the defensive, we are drawing upon us enormous enemy forces, which, were they relieved, would be sent to the western front and would crush the allies and then turn against us. upon this new calvary the russian people and the russian army may yet shed rivers of blood and endure privations and misfortunes. but at the end of the calvary a bright future is in store. "there is another way. the way of treason. it would give a respite to our martyred country.... but the curse of treachery cannot give us happiness. at the end of that path there is political, moral and economic slavery. the destinies of the country are in the hands of the army. i now appeal to the provisional government represented here by two ministers: "you must lead russia towards truth and enlightenment under the banner of liberty, but you must give us a real chance of leading the troops in the name of that same liberty under our old banners. you need have no fear. the name of the autocrat has been removed from these banners as well as from our hearts. it is no longer there. but there is a mother country; there is a sea of blood; and there is the glory of our former victories. you have trampled that banner into the dust. the time has now come. raise the banners and bow to them if your conscience is still within you." * * * * * i had finished. kerensky rose, shook hands with me, and said: "thank you, general, for your outspoken and sincere speech." in the evidence which kerensky subsequently gave to the high commission for the investigation of kornilov's movement, the prime minister explained this gesture by the fact that he approved, not of the contents of my speech, but of my courage, and that he wished to emphasise his respect for every independent opinion, albeit entirely divergent from the views of the provisional government. in substance, according to kerensky, "general deniken had for the first time drawn a plan for the revanche--that music of the future military reaction." there is in these words a deep misinterpretation. we had not forgotten the galician retreat of or its causes, but, at the same time, we could not forgive kalush and tarnopol in . it was our duty, our right, and our moral obligation not to wish for either of these contingencies. i was followed by general klembovsky. i had left the assembly, and only heard the end of his speech. he described the condition of his front in terms almost identical to mine, with great restraint, and came to a conclusion that could only have been prompted by deep despair: he suggested that power should be vested at the front in a kind of peculiar triumvirate consisting of the commander-in-chief, a commissar, and an elected soldier.... general alexeiev was unwell, spoke briefly, described the condition of the rear, of the reserves and garrison troops, and endorsed the suggestions i had made. general ruzsky, who had been undergoing a protracted cure in the caucasus, and was therefore out of touch with the army, analysed the situation such as it appeared to him from the speeches that had been made. he quoted a series of historical comparisons between the old army and the new revolutionary one with such emphasis and bluntness that kerensky, in replying, accused ruzsky of advocating the return to czarist autocracy. the new men were unable to understand the passionate grief of an old soldier for the army. kerensky was probably unaware of the fact that ruzsky had been repudiated, and also passionately accused by the reactionary circles of the opposite crime, for the part which he had played in the emperor's abdication. a telegram was read from general kornilov, urging that capital punishment should be introduced in the rear, chiefly in order to cope with the licentious bands of reservists; that disciplinary powers should be vested in the commanding officers; that the competence of the army committees should be restricted and their responsibilities fixed; that meetings should be prohibited as well as anti-national propaganda, and visits to the front prohibited to various delegations and agitators. all this was practically implied in my programme, but under another shape, and was described as "military reaction." but kornilov had other suggestions. he advocated that commissars should be introduced into the army corps and given the right to confirm the verdicts of the military revolutionary tribunals, as well as to effect a "cleansing" of the commanding staffs. this last proposal impressed kerensky by its "breadth and depth of vision"--greater than those which emanated from the "old wiseacres," whom he considered intoxicated "with the wine of hate...." there was an obvious misunderstanding, because kornilov's "cleansing" was not intended against the men of solid military traditions (mistakenly identified with monarchist reaction), but against the hirelings of the revolution--unprincipled men, deprived of will-power and of the capacity of taking the responsibility upon their own shoulders. savinkov, the commissar of the south-western front, also spoke, expressing his own views only. he agreed with the general description of the front which we had given, and pointed out that it is not the fault of the revolutionary democracy that the soldiery of the old régime is still distrustful of their commanding officers; that all is not well with the latter from the military and political points of view, and that the main object of the new revolutionary institutions was to restore normal relations between these two elements of the army. kerensky made the closing speech of the conference. he tried to justify himself--spoke of the elemental character of the inevitable "democratisation" of the army. he blamed us for seeing in the revolution, and in its influence upon the russian soldier, the only cause of the _débâcle_ of july, and he severely condemned the old régime. finally, he gave us no definite directions for future work. the members of the conference dispersed with a heavy feeling of mutual misunderstanding. i was also discouraged, but at the bottom of my heart i was pleased to think--alas! i was mistaken--that our voices had been heeded. my hopes were confirmed by a letter from kornilov which i received soon after his appointment to the supreme command: "i have read the report you made at the stavka on july th with deep and sincere satisfaction. i would sign such a report with both hands; i take off my hat to you, and i am lost in admiration before your firmness and courage. i firmly believe that, with the help of the almighty, we will succeed in accomplishing the task of reconstructing our beloved army and of restoring its fighting power." fate has, indeed, cruelly derided our hopes! chapter xxx. general kornilov. two days after the moghilev conference general brussilov was relieved of the supreme command. the attempt to give the leadership of the russian armies to a person who had not only given proof of the most complete loyalty to the provisional government, but had evinced sympathy with its reforms, had failed. a leader had been superseded, who, on assuming the supreme command, gave utterance to the following: "i am the leader of the revolutionary army, appointed to this responsible post by the people in revolution and the provisional government, in agreement with the petrograd soviet of workmen's and soldiers' delegates. i was the first to go over to the people, serve the people. i will continue to serve them, will never desert them."[ ] kerensky, in his evidence before the commission of inquiry, explained brussilov's dismissal by the catastrophal condition of the front, by the possible development of the german offensive, the absence of a firm hand at the front, and of a definite plan; by brussilov's inability to evaluate and forestall the complications of the military situation, and lastly, by his lack of influence over both officers and men. be it as it may, general brussilov's retirement from the pages of military history can in no wise be regarded as a simple episode of an administrative character. _it marks a clear recognition by the government of the wreck of its entire military policy._ on july th, by an order of the provisional government, lavr georgievich kornilov, general of infantry, was appointed to the post of supreme commander-in-chief. [map: the russian front in june and july, ] in chapter vii. i spoke of my meeting with kornilov, then commander-in-chief of the petrograd district. the whole meaning of his occupation of this post lay in the chance of bringing the petrograd garrison to a sense of duty and subordination. this kornilov failed to accomplish. a fighting general who carried fighting men with him by his courage, coolness, and contempt of death, had nothing in common with that mob of idlers and hucksters into which the petrograd garrison had been transformed. his sombre figure, his dry speech, only at times softened by sincere feeling, and above all, its tenour so far removed from the bewildering slogans of the revolution, so simple in its profession of a soldier's faith--could neither fire nor inspire the petrograd soldiery. inexperienced in political chicanery, by profession alien to those methods of political warfare which had been developed by the joint efforts of the bureaucracy, party sectarianism, and the revolutionary underworld, kornilov, as commander-in-chief of the petrograd district, could neither influence the government nor impress the soviet, which, without any cause, distrusted him from the very beginning. kornilov would have managed to suppress the petrograd praetorians, even if he had perished in doing so, but he could not attract them to himself. he felt that the petrograd atmosphere did not suit him, and when on april st, the executive committee of the soviet, after the first bolshevist attacks, passed a resolution that no military unit could leave barracks in arms without the permission of the committee, it was totally impossible for kornilov to remain at a post which gave no rights and imposed enormous responsibilities. there was yet another reason: the commander-in-chief of the petrograd district was subordinated, not to the stavka, but to the minister of war. gutchkov had left that post on april th, and kornilov did not wish to remain under kerensky, the vice-president of the petrograd soviet. [map: the russian front till august th and after] the position of the petrograd garrison and command was so incongruous that this painful problem had to be solved by artificial measures. on kornilov's initiative, and with general alexeiev's full approval, the stavka, in conjunction with the headquarters of the petrograd district, drew up a scheme for the organisation of the petrograd front, covering the approaches to the capital through finland and the finnish gulf. this front was to include the troops in finland and kronstadt, on the coast, of the reval fortified region and the petrograd garrison, the depôt battalions of which it was proposed to expand into active regiments and form into brigades; the inclusion of the baltic fleet was likewise probable. such an organisation--logical from a strategical point of view, especially in connection with the information received of the reinforcement of the german front on the line of advance on petrograd--gave the commander-in-chief the legal right to alter the dispositions to relieve the troops at the front and behind, etc. i do not know whether this would have really made it possible to free petrograd from the garrison which had become a veritable scourge to the capital, the provisional government, and even (in september) to the non-bolshevist sections of the soviet. the government most thoughtlessly bound itself by a promise, given in its first declaration, that "the troops which had taken part in the revolutionary movement should not be either disarmed or moved from petrograd." this plan, however, naturally failed on kornilov's departure, as his successors, appointed one after another by kerensky, were of such an indefinite political character, and so deficient in military experience, that it was impossible to place them at the head of so large a military force. at the end of april, just before his retirement, gutchkov wished to make kornilov commander-in-chief of the northern front, a post which had become vacant after general ruzsky's dismissal. general alexeiev and i were at the conference with thomas and the french military representatives, when i was called up to the telegraph instrument to talk with the minister of war. as general alexeiev remained at the meeting, and gutchkov was ill in bed, the negotiations, in which i acted as an intermediary, were exceedingly difficult to carry on, both technically and because, in view of the indirect transmission, it was necessary to speak somewhat guardedly. gutchkov insisted, alexeiev refused. no less than six times did i transmit their replies, which were at first reserved and then more heated. gutchkov spoke of the difficulty of managing the northern front, which was the most unruly, and of the need of a firm hand there. he said that it was desirable to retain kornilov in the immediate vicinity of petrograd, in view of future political possibilities. alexeiev refused flatly. he said nothing about "political possibilities," basing his refusal on the grounds of kornilov's inadequate service qualifications for command, and the awkwardness of passing over senior commanders more experienced and acquainted with the front, such as general abram dragomirov, for instance. nevertheless, when the next day an official telegram arrived from the ministry in connection with kornilov's appointment, alexeiev replied that he was uncompromisingly against it, and that if the appointment were made in spite of this, he would immediately send in his resignation. never had the supreme commander-in-chief been so inflexible in his communications with petrograd. some persons, including kornilov himself (as he confessed to me afterwards), involuntarily gained the impression that the question was a somewhat wider basis one than that of the appointment of the commander-in-chief ... that the fear of a future dictator played a certain part. however, this supposition is flatly contradicted by placing this episode in conjunction with the fact that the petrograd front was created for kornilov--a fact that was of no less importance and fraught with possibilities. in the beginning of may kornilov took over the th army on the south-western front. general dragomirov was appointed commander-in-chief of the northern front. this is the second event which gives the key to the understanding of the subsequent relations between alexeiev and kornilov. according to kornilov, the th army was in a state of complete disintegration when he assumed command. "for two months," says he, "i had to visit the units nearly every day and personally explain to the soldiers the necessity for discipline, encourage the officers, and urge upon the troops the necessity of an advance.... here i became convinced that firm language from the commander and definite action were necessary in order to arrest the disintegration of our army. i understood that such language was expected both by the officers and the men, the more reasonable of whom were already tired of the complete anarchy...." under what conditions kornilov made his rounds we have already shown in chapter xxiii. i hardly think that he managed to arouse the mass of soldiers to consciousness. the kalush of june th and the kalush of july th show the th army equally as heroes and as beasts. the officers and a small part of the real soldiers, however, were more than ever under the spell of kornilov's personality. its power increased among the non-socialistic sections of the russian public likewise. when, after the rout of july th, general gutor--who had been appointed to the highly responsible post of commander-in-chief of the south-western front, merely not to resist the democratisation of the army--yielded to despair and collapsed, there was no one to replace him except kornilov (on the night of july th).... the spectre of the "general on a white horse" was already looming in sight and disturbing the spiritual peace of many. brussilov was strongly opposed to this appointment. kerensky hesitated for a moment. the position, however, was catastrophical. kornilov was bold, courageous, stern, resolute and independent, and would never hesitate to show initiative or to undertake any responsibility if circumstances required it. kerensky was of the opinion[ ] that kornilov's downright qualities, though dangerous in case of success, would be only too useful in case of a panic-stricken retreat. and "when the moor has done his work, let the moor go...." so kerensky insisted on kornilov's appointment as commander-in-chief of the south-western front. on the third day after taking over his duties, kornilov wired to the provisional government: "i declare that if the government does not confirm the measures proposed by me, and deprives me of the only means of saving the army and of using it for its real purpose of defending the motherland and liberty, then i, general kornilov, will of my own accord lay down my authority as commander-in-chief...." a series of political telegrams from kornilov produced a profound impression on the country, and inspired some with fear, some with hate, and others with hope. kerensky hesitated, but what about the support of the commissars and committees? the tranquilisation and reduction to order of the south-western front attained, among other means, by kornilov's bold, resolute struggle against the army bolsheviks? the oppressive isolation felt by the minister of war after the conference of july th? the uselessness of retaining brussilov as supreme commander-in-chief and the hopelessness of placing at the head of the army generals of the new type, as shown by the experiment of appointing brussilov and gutor? savinkov's persistent advice? such were the reasons which forced kerensky--who fully recognised the inevitability of the coming collision with the man who repudiated his military policy with every fibre of his soul--to decide on the appointment of kornilov to the post of supreme commander-in-chief. there is not the slightest doubt that kerensky did this in a fit of despair. probably it was the same feeling of fatality that induced him to appoint savinkov acting minister of war. the collisions occurred sooner than might have been expected. on receiving the order for his appointment, kornilov at once sent the provisional government a telegram "reporting" that he could accept command and "lead the nation to victory and to the prospect of a just and honourable peace only on the following conditions: "( ) responsibility to his own conscience and to the whole nation. "( ) complete non-interference with his orders relating to military operations and, therefore, with the appointment of the higher command. "( ) the application of the measures recently introduced at the front to all places in the rear where drafts for the army were quartered. "( ) acceptance of his proposals telegraphed to the conference at the stavka on july th." when in due course i read this telegram in the newspapers, i was not a little surprised at the first condition, which established a highly original form of suzerainty on the part of the supreme command until the convocation of the constituent assembly. i waited impatiently for the official reply. there was none. as it turned out, on receiving kornilov's ultimatum, the council of the government hotly debated the matter, and kerensky demanded that the prestige of the high command should be upheld by the immediate removal of the new supreme commander-in-chief. the government did not agree to this, and kerensky, ignoring the other points mentioned in the telegram, replied only to the second, by recognising the right of the supreme commander-in-chief to select his own direct assistants. diverging from the established procedure of appointments, the government, simultaneously with kornilov's appointment and without his knowledge, issued an order appointing general cheremissov commander-in-chief of the south-western front. kornilov regarded this as a complete violation of his rights, and sent another ultimatum, declaring that he could continue to hold supreme command only on condition of cheremissov's immediate removal. he declined to go to moghilev before this question was settled. cheremissov, on his part, was very "nervy," and threatened to "bomb his way" into front headquarters and to establish his rights as commander-in-chief. this complicated matters still further, and kornilov reported by wire[ ] to petrograd that, in his opinion, it would be more regular to dismiss cheremissov. "for the purpose of strengthening discipline in the army, we decided to take severe measures with the soldiers; the same measures must likewise apply to the higher military commanders." the revolution had upset all mutual relations and the very essence of discipline. as a soldier, i was bound to see in all this the undermining of the authority of the provisional government (if such existed), and i could not but recognise that it was both the right and the duty of the government to make everyone respect its authority. as a chronicler, however, i must add that the military leaders had no other means of stopping this disintegration of the army, proceeding from above. and had the government actually possessed the power, and in full panoply of right and might had been able to assert itself, there would have been no ultimatums either from the soviet or from the military leaders. furthermore, there would have been no need for the events of the th of august, and those of the th of october would have been impossible. the matter finally resolved itself into the arrival of commissar filonenko at front headquarters. he informed kornilov that all his recommendations had been accepted by the government, in principle, while cheremissov was placed at the disposal of the provisional government. general balnev was hastily, at random, selected to command the south-western front, and kornilov assumed the supreme command on the th of july. the spectre of the "general on the white horse" became more and more clearly visible. and the eyes of many, suffering at the sight of the madness and the shame now engulfing russia, were again and again turned to this spectre. honest and dishonest, sincere and insincere, politicians, soldiers and adventurers, all turned to it. and all with one voice cried out, "save us!" he, the stern and straightforward soldier, deeply patriotic, untried in politics, knowing little of men, hypnotised both by truth and flattery, and by the general longing expectation of someone's coming, moved by a fervent desire for deeds of sacrifice--he truly believed in the predestined nature of his appointment. he lived and fought with this belief, and died for it on the banks of the kuban. kornilov became a sign and rallying point. to some, of counter-revolution; to others, of the salvation of their native land. around this point a struggle for influence and power was commenced by people who, unaided, without him could not have attained to such power. a characteristic episode had already taken place on the th of july, at kamenetz-podolsk. here, in kornilov's entourage, there occurred the first conflict between savinkov and zavoiko, the former being the most prominent russian revolutionary, leader of the terrorist fighting group of the social-revolutionary party, organiser of the most notorious political assassinations--those of plehve, minister of the interior, of the grand duke serge, etc. strong-willed and cruel by nature, completely lacking in the controlling influences of "conventional morality," despising both the provisional government and kerensky, supporting the provisional government from motives of expediency, as he understood it, ready at any moment to sweep them aside--he saw in kornilov merely a weapon in the fight for revolutionary power, in which _he_ must have a dominant interest. zavoiko was one of those peculiar personages who afterwards clustered closely round kornilov and played such a prominent part in the august days. he was not very well known even to kornilov. the latter stated, in his evidence before the supreme commission of inquiry, that he became acquainted with zavoiko in april, ; that zavoiko had been "marechal de noblesse" of the haisin district of podolia, had been employed on the nobel oilfields in baku, and, by his own statements, had been employed in prospecting for minerals in turkestan and western siberia. he arrived in czernowitz, enrolled as a volunteer in the daghestan mounted regiment, and was retained at army headquarters as personal aide to kornilov. that is all that is known of zavoiko's past. kornilov's first telegram to the provisional government was edited by zavoiko, who "gave it the form of an ultimatum with a concealed threat, in case of non-compliance with the demands presented to the provisional government, to proclaim a military dictatorship on the south-western front."[ ] i discovered all this subsequently. during all these events i continued working at minsk, completely engrossed now, not by the offensive, but by the organisation of any sort of skeleton defence of the half-collapsed front. there was no information, no rumours even, of what was going on at the head of affairs. only an increased tension was noticeable in all official relations. * * * * * quite unexpectedly, in the end of july the stavka offered me the post of commander-in-chief of the south-western front. i communicated by wire with general lukomsky, the chief-of-staff of the supreme commander-in-chief, and told him that i should obey orders and go wherever i was sent, but would like to know the reason for this exchange. if the reasons were political i should ask to be left at my old post. lukomsky assured me that what kornilov had in view was only the military importance of the south-western front and the proposed strategical operations in that quarter. i accepted the post. i parted from my assistants with regret, and, having transferred my friend, general markov, to the new front, left for my new place of service together with him. on my way i stopped at moghilev. the stavka was in a very optimistic mood; everyone was animated and hopeful, but there were no signs of any "underground" conspiratory working. it should be mentioned that in this respect the military were so naïvely inexperienced, that when they really began to "conspire" their work took such _obvious_ forms that the deaf could not help hearing, nor the blind seeing, what was going on. on the day of our arrival kornilov held a council of the chiefs of departments of the stavka, at which the so-called "kornilov programme" for the restoration of the army was discussed. i was invited to attend. i shall not repeat all the fundamental propositions, which have already been mentioned both by me and in kornilov's telegrams--such demands, for instance, as the introduction of revolutionary courts-martial and capital punishment in the rear, the restoration of disciplinary authority to commanders and raising their prestige, the limitation of the activity of the committees and their responsibility, etc. i remember that side by side with clear and irrefutable propositions--the draft memorandum drawn up by the departments of the stavka--there were bureaucratic lucubrations hardly applicable in actual life. for instance, with the object of making disciplinary authority more palatable to revolutionary democracy, the authors of the memorandum had drawn up a curiously detailed list of disciplinary misdemeanour with a corresponding scale of penalties. and this was meant for the seething whirlpool of life, where all relations were trampled underfoot, all standards violated, where every fresh day brought forward an endless variety of departures from the regulations! at any rate, the supreme command was finding the proper path, and apparently kornilov's personality was a guarantee that the government would be obliged to follow that path. undoubtedly a long struggle with the soviets, committees, and soldiery was still to be waged, but, at least, the definiteness of the policy gave moral support and a tangible basis for this heavy task in the future. on the other hand, the support given to kornilov's measures by savinkov's war ministry gave reason to hope that kerensky's vacillations and indecision would finally be overcome. the attitude to this question of the provisional government as a whole was of no practical importance, and could not even be officially expressed. at that time it seemed as if kerensky had, in some degree, freed himself from the yoke of the soviet, but, just as formerly all the most important questions of state had been settled by him apart from the government, in conjunction with the leading soviet circles, now, in august, the direction of state affairs passed into the hands of a triumvirate composed of kerensky, nekrassov, and tereschenko, leaving both the socialist and liberal groups of the government out of the running. after the meeting was over kornilov asked me to stay, and, when all had left, said to me, almost in a whisper: "it is necessary to struggle, otherwise the country will perish. n. came to see me at the front. he is nursing his scheme of a _coup d'état_ and of placing the grand-duke dmitri on the throne. he is organising something or other, and has suggested collaboration. i told him flatly that i would take no part in any romanov adventures. the government itself understands that it can do nothing. they have offered my joining in the government.... no, thank you! these gentlemen are far too much entangled with the soviets, and cannot decide on anything. i have told them that if authority is given me i shall carry on a decisive struggle. we must lead russia to a constituent assembly, and then let them do what they like. i shall stand aside and not interfere in any way. now, general, may i rely on your support?" "to the fullest extent." this was my second meeting and my second conversation with kornilov. we embraced heartily and parted ... only to meet again in the bykhov prison. chapter xxxi. my service as commander-in-chief of the south-western front--the moscow conference--the fall of riga. i was touched by general alexeiev's letter: "my thoughts are with you in your new appointment. i consider that you have been sent to perform a superhuman task. much has been said, but apparently little has been done there. nothing has been done even after the th july by russia's chief babbler.... the authority of the commanders is being steadily curtailed. should you want my help in anything i am ready to go to berdichev, to go to the front, to one command or another.... god preserve you!" here was a man, indeed, whom neither an exalted position nor misfortunes could change. he was full of his modest, disinterested work for the good of his native land. a new front, new men. the south-western front, shaken by the events in july, was gradually recovering. not, however, in the sense of real convalescence, as the optimists thought, but of a return approximately to its condition prior to the offensive. there were the same strained relations between officers and men, the same slip-shod service, the desertion, and open unwillingness to fight, which was only less actively expressed owing to the lull in operations; finally there was the same bolshevist propaganda, only more active, and not infrequently disguised under the form of committee "fractions" and preparations for the constituent assembly. i have a document referring to the nd army of the western front. it is highly characteristic as an indication of the unparalleled toleration and, indeed, encouragement of the disintegration of the army on the part of the representatives of the government and commanders, under the guise of liberty and conscious voting at the elections. here is a copy of the telegram sent to all the senior officers of the nd army: the army commander, in agreement with the commissar, and at the request of the army fraction of the bolshevist social-democrats, has permitted the organisation, from the th to th october, of preparatory courses for instructors of the aforesaid fraction for the elections to the constituent assembly, one representative of the bolshevist organisation of each separate unit being sent to the said courses. no. . suvorov.[ ] the same toleration had been exercised in many cases previously, and was founded on the exact meaning of the regulations for army committees and of the "declaration of soldiers' rights." carried away by the struggle against counter-revolution, the revolutionary institutions had paid no attention to such facts as public meetings with extreme bolshevist watchwords being held at the very place where the front headquarters were situated, or that the local paper, _svobodnaia mysl_,[ ] most undisguisedly threatened the officers with a st. bartholomew's eve. the front was _holding out_. that is all that could be said of the situation. at times there would be disturbances ending tragically, such as the brutal murder of generals girshfeld, hirschfeld, and stefanovich, commissar linde. the preliminary arrangements and the concentration of the troops for the coming partial offensive were made, but there was no possibility of launching the actual attack until the "kornilov programme" had been put into practice and the results known. i waited very impatiently. the revolutionary organisations (the commissariat and committee) of the south-western front were in a position; they had not yet seized power, but some of it had already been yielded to them voluntarily by a series of commanders-in-chief--brussilov, gutor, baluev. therefore, my coming at once roused their antagonism. the committee of the western front lost no time in sending a scathing report on me to berdichev on the basis of which the next issue of the committee's organ published an impressive warning to the "enemies of democracy." as usual, i totally omitted to invoke the aid of the commissariat, and sent a message to the committee saying that i could have nothing to do with it unless it kept rigidly within the limits of the law. the commissar of the front was a certain gobechio. i saw him once only, on my arrival. in a few days he got transferred to the caucasus, and his post was taken by iordansky.[ ] as soon as he arrived he issued an "order to the troops at the front." afterwards he was unable to understand that two persons could not command the front at one and the same time. iordansky and his assistants, kostitsin and grigorier--a literary man, zoologist, and doctor respectively--were probably rather prominent men in their own profession, but utterly ignorant of military life. the committee of the front was no better and no worse than others.[ ] it took the "defencist" point of view, and even supported the repressive measures taken by kornilov in july, but at that time the committee was not in the least degree a _military_ institution organically connected--for good or evil--with the true army life. it was merely a mixed party organ. divided into "fractions" of all the socialist parties, the committee positively revelled in politics, and introduced them at the front likewise. the committee carried on propaganda on a large scale, convened congresses of representatives in order to have them converted by socialist fractions, including such as were openly antagonistic to the policy of the government. i made an attempt to stop this work in view of the impending strategical operations and the difficult period of transition, but met with determined opposition on the part of commissar iordansky. at the same time, the committee was perpetually interfering in all questions of military authority, spreading sedition and distrust to the commanders. * * * * * meanwhile, both in petrograd and moghilev, events were taking their course, and we could grasp their meaning only in so far as they were reflected by newspaper reports, rumours and gossip. there was still no "programme." the moscow state conference[ ] raised great hopes, but it met without making any changes in either state or military policy. on the contrary, it even outwardly emphasises the irreconcilable enmity between the revolutionary democracy and the liberal bourgeoisie, between the commanders and the soldiers' representatives. if the moscow conference yielded no positive results, nevertheless, it fully exposed the mood of the opponents, the leaders and the rulers. all unanimously recognised that the country was in deadly peril. everyone understood that the social relations had suffered an upheaval, that all branches of the nation's economy had been uprooted. each party reproached the other with supporting the selfish interests of their class. this, however, was not the most important matter, for, strange as it may seem, the primary causes of social class war, even the agrarian and labour questions, merely led to disagreement, without rousing any irreconcilable dissentions. even when plekhanov, the old leader of the social-democrats, amid universal approval, turned to the right demanding sacrifice, and to the left demanding moderation, it seemed as if the chasm between the two opposing social camps was not so very great. all the attention of the conference was taken up by other questions, those of _authority and of the army_. miliukov enumerated all the sins of the government, vanquished by the soviets, its "capitulation" to the ideology of the socialist parties and zimmerwaldists, capitulation in the army, in foreign policy, to the utopian demands of the working classes, to the extreme demands of nationalities. "the usurpation of the authority of the state by central and local committees and soviets," said general kaledin distinctly, "must be stopped at once and decisively." maklakov smoothed the way for his attack: "i demand nothing, but i cannot help drawing attention to the alarm felt by the social conscience when it sees that the 'defeatists' of yesterday have been invited to join the government." shulgin (right) is agitated. he says: "i want your (the provisional government's) authority to be really strong, really unlimited. i want this, though i know that a strong government easily turns to despotism, which is more likely to crush me than you, the friends of that government." on the left, jehkheidze sings the praises of the soviets: "it is only owing to the revolutionary organisations that the creative spirit of the revolution has been preserved, for the salvation of the country from the disintegration of authority and from anarchy...." "there is no power higher than that of the provisional governments," says tzeretelli, "because the source of this power the sovereign people has, through all the organs at its disposal, directly delegated this power to the provisional government." of course, in so far as that government submits to the will of the soviets?... and over all one hears the dominating voice of the president of the congress, who is seeking for "heavenly words" in order to "express his shuddering horror" at coming events, "and at the same time brandishing a wooden sword and threatening his hidden enemies thus: 'be it known to everyone who has once tried to offer armed resistance to the authority of the people that the attempt will be smothered in blood and iron. let those beware who think that the time has come for them to overthrow the revolutionary government with the help of bayonets.'" the contradiction was still more striking in military matters. in a dry but powerful speech, the supreme commander-in-chief drew a picture of the destruction of the army, involving the whole country in its ruin, and with great reserve explained the gist of his programme. general alexeiev related, with genuine bitterness, the sad story of the sins, sufferings and gallantry of the former army. "weak in technical resources and morally strong in spirit and discipline," he related how the army had lived to see the bright days of the revolution, and how later on, "when it was thought to be a danger to the conquests of the revolution, it was inoculated with deadly poison." kaledin, the don cossack attaman, representing thirteen cossack armies and unhampered by any official position, spoke sharply and distinctly: "the army must keep out of politics. there must be no political meetings with their party struggles and disputes. all the (army) soviets and committees must be abolished. the declaration of soldiers' rights must be revised. discipline must be raised both at the front and in the rear. the disciplinary authority of the commanders must be restored. all power to the leaders of the army!" kuchin, the representative of the army and front committees, rose to reply to these trite military axioms. "the committees were a manifestation of the instinct of self-defence.... they had to be formed as organs for the protection of the privates, as hitherto there had been nothing but oppression ... the committees had brought light and knowledge to the soldiers.... then came the second period--one of decay and disorganisation ... 'rearguard consciousness' made its appearance, but failed to digest all the mass of questions which the revolutions had raised in the minds of the soldiery...." now the speaker did not deny the necessity for repressive measures, but they "must be compatible with the definite work of army organisations...." how this was to be done had been shown by the united front of revolutionary democracy, namely, the army must be animated, not by the desire of victory over the enemy, but by "a repudiation of imperialistic aims, and a desire for the speedy attainment of universal peace on democratic principles.... the commanders should possess complete independence in the conduct of military operations, and have a decisive voice in questions of discipline and service training." the object of the organisations, on the other hand, was to introduce their policy wholesale among troops, and "the commissars must be the introducers of (this) single revolutionary policy of the provisional government, the army committees must direct the social and political life of the soldiers. the restoration of the disciplinary authority of the commanders is not to be thought of," etc. what is the government going to do? will it find enough strength and boldness to burst the fetters placed on it by the bolshevistic soviet?[ ] kornilov said firmly, repeating his words twice: "i do not doubt for a moment that the (my) measures will be carried out without delay." and if not--was it to be war? he also said: "it is impossible to admit that the determination to carry out these measures should in every case be aroused merely by the pressure of defeats and loss of territory. if the rout at tarnopol and the loss of galicia and bukovina did indeed result in restoration of discipline at the front, it cannot be admitted that order in the rear should be restored at the cost of the loss of riga, and that order on the railways should be restored by the cession of moldavia and bessarabia to the enemy." on the th riga fell. both strategically and tactically the front of the lower dvina was in complete preparedness. taking into consideration the strength of the defensive positions, the forces were also sufficient. the officers in command were general parsky, army commander, and general boldyrev, corps commander; both experienced generals, and certainly not inclined to counter-revolution in the opinion of the democrats.[ ] finally, from deserters' reports, our headquarters knew not only the direction but even the day and the hour of the contemplated attack. nevertheless, on the th august the germans (von hutier's th army), after heavy artillery preparation, occupied the uxküll bridgehead in the face of feeble opposition on our part, and crossed the dvina. on th august the germans assumed the offensive also along the mitau road; towards evening of the same day the enemy's uxküll group, having pierced our lines on the egel, began deploying in a northerly direction, threatening the retreat of the russian troops towards wenden. the th army, abandoning riga, retired some - versts, losing touch with the enemy, and on the th occupied the so-called wenden position. the army lost in prisoners alone some , men, besides guns, machine-guns, etc. a further advance did not enter into the german plans, and they commenced to establish themselves on the extensive terrain of the right bank of the dvina, immediately sending off two divisions to the western front. we lost the rich industrial town of riga, with all its military structures and supplies; more important still, we lost a safe defensive line, the abandonment of which placed both the dvina front and the way to petrograd under a constant threat. the fall of riga made a great impression in the country. quite unexpectedly, however, it called forth from the revolutionary democracy, not repentance, not patriotic fervour, but, instead, a still greater bitterness towards the leaders and officers. the stavka in one _communiqué_[ ] inserted the following sentence: "the disorganised masses of the soldiery are flocking in uncontrollable masses along the pskov high road and the road to bieder-limburg." this statement, undoubtedly true, and neither mentioning nor relating to the causes of the above, raised a storm amongst the revolutionary democracy. the commissars and committees of the northern front sent a series of telegrams refuting the "provocative attacks of the stavka" and assuring that "there was no shame in this reverse"; that "the troops honestly obey all demands of their leaders ... there have been no cases of flight or treachery on the part of the troops." the commissar for the front, stankevitch, while demurring against there being no shame in such a causeless and inglorious retreat, pointed out, amongst other things, a series of errors and delinquencies on the part of the commanders. it is extremely possible that there were errors, both personal and of leadership, as well as purely objective deficiencies, caused by mutual mistrust, slackening of obedience, and the _débâcle_ of the technical services. at the same time, it is undoubtedly a fact that the troops of the northern front, and especially the th army, were the most disorganised of all, and, logically, could not offer the necessary resistance. even the apologist of the th army, commissar voitinsky, who always considerably exaggerated the fighting value of these troops, telegraphed on the nd to the petrograd soviet: "the troops show want of confidence in their powers, absence of training for battle, and, consequently, insufficient steadiness in open warfare.... many units fight bravely, as in the early days; others show signs of weariness and panic." actually, the debauched northern front had lost all power of resistance. the troops rolled back to the limit of pursuit by the german advanced detachments, and only moved forward subsequently on losing touch with hutier's main body, which had no intention of passing, beyond a definite line. meanwhile, all the papers of the left commenced a fierce campaign against the stavka and the commands. the word "treachery" was heard.... tchernov's _delo naroda_, a defeatist paper, complained: "a torturing fear creeps into the mind: are not the mistakes of the commanders, the deficiencies in artillery, and the incapacity of the leaders being unloaded on to the soldiers--courageous, heroic, perishing in thousands." the _izvestia_ announced also the motives for the "provocation": "the stavka, by putting forth the bogy of menacing events, is trying to terrorise the provisional government and make it adopt a series of measures, directly and indirectly aimed at the revolutionary democracy and their organisations...." in conjunction with all these events, the feeling against the supreme commander-in-chief, general kornilov, was increasing in the soviets, and rumours of his approaching dismissal appeared in the press. in answer to these, a series of angry resolutions addressed to the government, and supporting kornilov, made their appearance.[ ] the resolution of the council of the union of cossack troops contained even the following passage: "the supersession of kornilov will inevitably imbue the cossacks with the fatal impression of the futility of further cossack sacrifices"; and, further, that the council "declines all responsibility for the cossack troops at and behind the front should kornilov be removed." such was, then, the situation. instead of pacification, passions burned fiercer, contradictions increased, the atmosphere of mutual mistrust and morbid suspicion was thickened. * * * * * i still postponed my tour of the troops, not abandoning hope of a satisfactory issue to the struggle and of the publication of the "kornilov programme."[ ] what could i bring the men? a deep, painful feeling, words appealing to "common-sense and conscience," concealing my helplessness, and like the voice of one crying in the wilderness? all had been and gone, leaving bitter memories behind. it will always be so: thoughts, ideas, words, moral persuasion will never cease to rouse men to deeds of merit; but what if overgrown, virgin soil must be torn up with an iron plough?... what should i say to the officers, sorrowfully and patiently awaiting the end of the regular and merciless lingering death of the army? for i could only say to them: if the government does not radically alter its policy the end of the army has come. on the th august orders were received to move the caucasian native ("wild") division from under my command northwards; on the th the same order was received for the rd cavalry corps, then in reserve, and later for the kornilov "shock" regiment. as always, their destination was not indicated. the direction prescribed, on the other hand, equally pointed to the northern front, at that time greatly threatened, and to ... petrograd. i recommended general krymov, commanding the rd cavalry corps, for the command of the th army. the stavka agreed, but demanded his immediate departure for moghilev on a special mission. on his way there krymov reported to me. apparently he had not yet received definite instructions--at any rate, he spoke of none; however, neither he nor i doubted that the mission was in connection with the expected change in military policy. krymov was at this time cheerful and confident, and had faith in the future; as formerly, he considered that only a crushing blow to the soviets could save the situation. following on this, official information was received of the formation of the detached petrograd army, and the appointment of an officer of the general staff to be quartermaster-general of this army was desired. finally, about the th, the situation became somewhat clearer. an officer reported to me at berdichev, and handed me a personal letter from kornilov, wherein the latter suggested i should hear this officer's verbal report. he stated as follows: "according to reliable information, a rising of the bolsheviks will take place at the end of august. by this time the rd cavalry corps,[ ] commanded by krymov, would reach petrograd, would crush the rising, and simultaneously put an end to the soviets."[ ] simultaneously, petrograd would be proclaimed in a state of war, and the laws resulting from the "kornilov programme" would be published. the supreme commander-in-chief requested me to despatch to the stavka a score or more of reliable officers--officially "for trench mortar instruction"; actually they would be sent to petrograd, and incorporated in the officers' detachment. in the course of the conversation he communicated the news from the stavka, painting all in glowing colours. he told me, among other things, of rumours concerning new appointments to the kiev, odessa and moscow commands, and of the proposed new government, mentioning some existing ministers, and some names entirely unknown to me. the part played in this matter by the provisional government, in particular by kerensky, was not clear. had he decided on an abrupt change of military policy, would he resign, or would he be swept away by developments impossible of prediction by pure logic, or the most prophetic common sense? _in this volume i described the entire course of events during august in that sequence and in that light, in which these tragic days were experienced on the south-western front, not giving them the perspective of the stage and the actors acquired subsequently._ the seconding of the officers--with all precautions to prevent either them or their superiors being placed in a false position--was commenced, but it is hardly likely that it could have been accomplished by the th. not one army commander was supplied by me with the information i had received; in fact, not one of the senior officers at the front knew anything of the events brewing. it was clear that the history of the russian revolution had entered on a new phase. what would the future bring? general markov and i spent many hours discussing this subject. he--nervous, hot-headed and impetuous--constantly wavered between the extremes of hope and fear. i also felt much the same; and both of us quite clearly saw and felt the _fatal inevitability_ of a crisis. the soviets--bolshevists or semi-bolshevists, no matter which--would unfailingly bring russia to her doom. a conflict was unavoidable. but _over there_, was there an actual chance, or was everything being done in heroic desperation? [illustration: general kornilov's welcome in moscow.] chapter xxxii. general kornilov's movement and its repercussion on the south-west front. on august th i was thunderstruck by receiving from the stavka news of the dismissal of general kornilov from the post of supreme commander-in-chief. a telegram, unnumbered, and signed "kerensky," requested general kornilov to transfer the supreme command temporarily to general lukomsky, and, without awaiting the latter's arrival to proceed to petrograd. such an order was quite illegal, and not binding, as the supreme commander-in-chief was in no way under the orders either of the war minister or of the minister-president, certainly not of comrade kerensky. general lukomsky, chief-of-staff, answered the minister-president in telegram no. , which i give below. its contents were transmitted to us, the commanders-in-chief by telegram no. . which i have not preserved. its tenor, however, is clear from the deposition of kornilov, in which he says: "i ordered that my decision (not to surrender my command, and first to elucidate the situation), and that of general lukomsky, be communicated to the commanders-in-chief on all fronts." lukomsky's telegram, no. , ran as follows: all persons in touch with military affairs were perfectly aware that, in view of the existing state of affairs, when the actual direction of internal policy was in the hands of irresponsible public organisations, having an enormously deleterious effect on the army, it would be impossible to resurrect the latter; on the contrary, the army, properly speaking, would cease to exist in two or three months. russia would then be obliged to conclude a shameful separate peace, whose consequences to the country would be terrible. the government took half measures, which, changing nothing, merely prolonged the agony, and, in saving the revolution, did not save russia. at the same time, the preservation of the benefits of the revolution depended solely on the salvation of russia, for which purpose the first step must be the establishment of a really strong government and the reform of the home front. general kornilov drew up a series of demands, the execution of which has been delayed. in these circumstances, general kornilov, actuated by no motives of personal gain or aggrandisement, and supported by the clearly-expressed will of the entire right-thinking sections of the army and the civil community, who demanded the speedy establishment of a strong government for the saving of their native land, and of the benefits of the revolution, considered more severe measures requisite which would secure the re-establishment of order in the country. the arrival of savinkov and lvov, who in your name made general kornilov similar proposals,[ ] only brought general kornilov to a speedy decision. in accordance with your suggestions, he issued his final orders, which it is now too late to repeal. your telegram of to-day shows that you have now altered your previous decision, communicated in your name by savinkov and lvov. conscience demands from me, desiring only the good of the motherland, to declare to you absolutely that it is now impossible to stop what was commenced with your approval; this will lead but to civil war, the final dissolution of the army, and a shameful separate peace, as a consequence of which the conquests of the revolution will certainly not be secured to us. in the interests of the salvation of russia you must work with general kornilov, and not dismiss him. the dismissal of general kornilov will bring upon russia as yet unheard-of horrors. personally, i decline to accept any responsibility for the army, even though it be for a short period, and do not consider it possible to take over the command from general kornilov, as this would occasion an outburst in the army which would cause russia to perish. lukomsky. all the hopes which had been entertained of the salvation of the country and the regeneration of the army by peaceful means had now failed. i had no illusions as to the consequences of such a conflict between general kornilov and kerensky, and had no hopes of a favourable termination if only general krymov's corps did not manage to save the situation. at the same time, not for one moment did i consider it possible to identify myself with the provisional government, which i considered criminally incapable, and therefore immediately despatched the following telegram: i am a soldier and am not accustomed to play hide and seek. on the th of july, in a conference with members of the provisional government, i stated that, by a series of military reforms, they had destroyed and debauched the army, and had trampled our battle honours in the mud. my retention as commander-in-chief i explained as being a confession by the provisional government of their deadly sins before the motherland, and of their wish to remedy the evil they had wrought. to-day i receive information that general kornilov, who had put forward certain demands capable yet of saving the country and the army,[ ] has been removed from the supreme command. seeing herein a return to the planned destruction of the army, having as its consequence the downfall of our country, i feel it my duty to inform the provisional government that i cannot follow their lead in this. denikin. simultaneously markov sent a telegram to the government stating his concurrence in the views expressed by me.[ ] at the same time i ordered the stavka to be asked in what way i could assist general kornilov. he knew that, besides moral support, i had no actual resources at my disposal, and, therefore, thanking me for this support, demanded no more. i ordered copies of my telegrams to be sent to all commanders-in-chief, the army commanders of the south-western front, and the inspector-general of lines of communication. i also ordered the adoption of measures which would isolate the front against the penetration of any news of events, without the knowledge of the staff, until the conflict had been decided. i received similar instructions from the stavka. i think it hardly necessary to state that the entire staff warmly supported kornilov, and all impatiently awaited news from moghilev, still hoping for a favourable termination. absolutely no measures for the detention of any persons were taken: this would have been of no use, and did not enter into our plans. meanwhile, the revolutionary democracy at the front were in great agitation. the members of the front committee on this night left their quarters and lodged in private houses on the outskirts of the town. the assistants of the commissar were at the time away on duty, and iordansky himself in zhitomir. an invitation from markov to him to come to berdichev had no result, either that night or on the th. iordansky expected a "treacherous ambush." night fell, a long, sleepless night, full of anxious waiting and oppressive thoughts. never had the future of the country seemed so dark, never had our powerlessness been so galling and oppressive. a historic tragedy, played out far from us, lay like a thundercloud over russia. and we waited, waited. i shall never forget that night. those hours still live in mental pictures. successive telegrams by direct wire: agreement apparently possible. no hopes of a peaceful issue. supreme command offered to klembovsky. klembovsky likely to refuse. one after another copies of telegrams to the provisional government from all army commanders of my front, from general oelssner and several other senior officers, voicing their adherence to the opinion expressed in my telegram. a touching fulfilment of their _civic duty_ in an atmosphere saturated with hate and suspicion. their _soldier's oath_ they could no longer keep. finally, the voice of despair from the stavka. for that is the only name for the general orders issued by kornilov on the night of the th: the telegram of the minister-president, no. [ ] in its entire first part is a downright lie: it was not i who sent vv. n. lvov, a member of the state duma, to the provisional government. he came to me as a messenger from the minister-president. my witness to this is alexei aladyin, member of the state duma. the great provocation, placing the motherland on the turn of fate, is thus accomplished. people of russia. our great motherland is dying. her end is near. forced to speak openly, i, general kornilov, declare that the provisional government, under pressure from the bolshevik majority in the soviets, is acting in complete accordance with the plans of the german general staff and simultaneously with the landing of enemy troops near riga, is killing the army, and convulsing the country internally. the solemn certainty of the doom of our country drives me in these terrible times to call upon all russians to save their dying native land. all in whose breasts a russian heart still beats, all who believe in god, go into the churches, pray our lord for the greatest miracle, the salvation of our dear country. i, general kornilov, son of a peasant cossack, announce to all and everyone that i personally desire nothing save the preservation of our great russia, and vow to lead the people, through victory over our enemies, to a constituent assembly, when they themselves will settle their fate and select the form of our new national life. i cannot betray russia into the hands of her ancient enemy--the german race!--and make the russian people german slaves. and i prefer to die honourably on the field of battle, that i may not see the shame and degradation of our russian land. people of russia, in your hands lies the life of your native land! this order was despatched to the army commanders for their information. the next day one telegram from kerensky was received at the commissariat, and from then all our communications with the outside world were interrupted.[ ] well, the die was cast. a gulf had opened between the government and the stavka, to bridge which was now impossible. on the following day, the th, the revolutionary institutions, seeing that absolutely nothing threatened them, exhibited a feverish activity. iordansky assumed the "military authority," made a series of unnecessary arrests in zhitomir among the senior officials of the chief board of supplies, and issued, under his signature and in his own name, that of the revolutionary organisations and that of the commissary of the province, an appeal, telling, in much detail and in the usual language of proclamations, how general denikin was planning "to restore the old régime and deprive the russian people of land and freedom." at the same time similar energetic work was being carried on in berdichev under the guidance of the frontal committee. meetings of all the organisations went on incessantly, along with the "education" of the typical rear units of the garrison. here the accusation brought forward by the committee was different: "the counter-revolutionary attempt of the commander-in-chief, general denikin, to overthrow the provisional government and restore nicholas ii. to the throne." proclamations to this effect were circulated in numbers among the units, pasted on walls, and scattered from motor-cars careering through the town. the nervous tension increased, the streets were full of noise. the members of the committee became more and more peremptory and exigent in their relations with markov. information was received of disorders which had arisen on the lyssaya gora (bald hill). the staff sent officers thither to clear up the matter and determine the possibility of pacification. one of them--a tchekh officer, lieutenant kletsando--who was to have spoken with the austrian prisoners, was attacked by russian soldiers, one of whom he wounded slightly. this circumstance increased the disturbance still more. from my window i watched the crowds of soldiers gathering on the lyssaya gora, then forming in column, holding a prolonged meeting, which lasted about two hours, and apparently coming to no conclusion. finally the column, which consisted of a troop of orderlies (formerly field military police), a reserve _sotnia_, and sundry other armed units, marched on the town with a number of red flags and headed by two armoured cars. on the appearance of an armoured car, which threatened to open fire, the orenburg cossack _sotnia_, which was on guard next the staff quarters and the house of the commander-in-chief, scattered and galloped away. we found ourselves completely in the power of the revolutionary democracy. "revolutionary sentries" were posted round the house. the vice-president of the committee, koltchinsky, led four armed "comrades" into the house for the purpose of arresting general markov, but then began to hesitate, and confined himself to leaving in the reception-room of the chief-of-staff two "experts" from the frontal committee to control his work. the following wireless was sent to the government: "general denikin and all his staff have been subjected to personal detention at his stavka. in the interests of the defence the guidance of the activity of the troops has been left in their hands, but is strictly controlled by the delegates of the committee." now began a series of long, endless, wearisome hours. they will never be forgotten. nor can words express the depth of the pain which now enveloped our hearts. at p.m. on the th markov asked me into the reception-room, where assistant-commissary kostitsin came with ten to fifteen armed committee members and read me an "order from the commissary of the south-western front, iordansky," according to which i, markov, and quartermaster-general orlov were to be subjected to preliminary arrest for an attempt at an armed rising against the provisional government. as a man of letters iordansky seemed to have become ashamed of the arguments about "land," "freedom," and "nicholas ii.," designed exclusively for inflaming the passions of the mob. i replied that a commander-in-chief could be removed from his post only by the supreme commander-in-chief or by the provisional government; that commissary iordansky was acting altogether illegally, but that i was obliged to submit to force. motor-cars drove up, accompanied by armoured cars, and markov and i took our seats. then came the long waiting for orlov, who was handing over the files; then the tormenting curiosity of the passers-by. then we drove on to lyssaya gora. the car wandered about for a long time, halting at one building after another, until at last we drove up to the guard-house; we passed through a crowd of about a hundred men who were awaiting our arrival, and were greeted with looks full of hatred and with coarse abuse. we were taken into separate cells; kostitsin very civilly offered to send me any of my things i might require, but i brusquely declined any services from him; the door was slammed to, the key turned noisily in the lock, and i was alone. in a few days the stavka was liquidated. kornilov, lukomsky, romanovsky, and others were taken off to the bykhov prison. the revolutionary democracy was celebrating its victory. yet at that very time the government was opening wide the doors of the prisons in petrograd and liberating many influential bolsheviks--to enable them to continue, publicly and openly, their work of destroying the russian empire. on september the provisional government arrested general kornilov; on september the provisional government liberated bronstein trotsky. these two dates should be memorable for russia. * * * * * cell no. . the floor is some seven feet square. the window is closed with an iron grating. the door has a small peep-hole in it. the cell is furnished with a sleeping bench, a table, and a stool. the air is close--an evil-smelling place lies next door. on the other side is cell no. , with markov in it; he walks up and down with large, nervous strides. somehow or other i still remember that he makes three steps along his cell, while i manage, on a curve, to make five. the prison is full of vague sounds. the strained ear begins to distinguish them, and gradually to make out the course of prison life, and even its moods. the guards--i guess them to be soldiers of the prison guard company--are rough and revengeful men. it is early morning. someone's voice is booming. whence? outside of the window, clinging to the grating, hang two soldiers. they look at me with cruel, savage eyes, and hysterically utter terrible curses. they throw in something abominable through the open window. there is no escape from their gaze. i turn to the door--there another pair of eyes, full of hatred, peers through the peep-hole; thence choice abuse pours in also. i lie down on the sleeping-bench and cover my head with my cloak. i lie for hours. the whole day, one after another, the "public accusers" replace each other at the window and at the door--the guards allow all to come freely. and into the narrow, close kennel pours, in an unceasing torrent, a foul stream of words, shouts, and curses, born of immense ignorance, blind hate, and bottomless coarseness. one's whole soul seems to be drenched with that abuse, and there is no deliverance, no escape from this moral torture chamber. what is it all about? "wanted to open the front" ... "sold himself to the germans"--the sum, too, was mentioned--"for twenty thousand roubles" ... "wanted to deprive us of land and freedom." this was not their own, this was borrowed from the committee. but commander-in-chief, general, gentleman--this, indeed, was their own! "you have drunk our blood, ordered us about, kept us stewing in prison; now we are free and you can sit behind the bars yourself. you pampered yourself, drove about in motor-cars; now you can try what lying on a wooden bench is, you ----. you have not much time left. we shan't wait till you run away--we will strangle you with our own hands." these warriors of the rear scarcely knew me at all. but all that had been gathering for years, for centuries, in their exasperated hearts against the power they did not love, against the inequality of classes, because of personal grievances and of their shattered lives--for which someone or other was to blame--all this now came to the surface in the form of unmitigated cruelty. and the higher the standing of him who was reckoned the enemy of the people, and the deeper his fall, the more violent was the hostility of the mob and the greater the satisfaction of seeing him in its hands. meanwhile, behind the wings of the popular stage stood the managers, who inflamed both the wrath and the delight of the populace; who did not believe in the villainy of the actors, but permitted them even to perish for the sake of greater realism in the performance and to the greater glory of their sectarian dogmatism. these motives of party policy, however, were called "tactical considerations." i lay, covered head and all by my cloak and, under a shower of oaths, tried to see things clearly: "what have i done to deserve this?" i went through the stages of my life.... my father was a stern soldier with a most kindly heart. up to thirty years of age he had been a peasant serf and was drafted into the army, where, after twenty-two years of hard service in the ranks, under the severe discipline of the times of nicholas i, he was promoted to the rank of nd lieutenant. he retired with the rank of major. my childhood was hard and joyless, amidst the poverty of a pension of roubles a month. then my father died. life became still harder. my mother's pension was roubles a month. my youth was passed in study and in working for my daily bread. i became a volunteer in the army, messing in barracks with the privates. then came my officer's commission, then the staff college. the unfairness of my promotion, my complaint to the emperor against the all-powerful minister of war, and my return to the nd artillery brigade. my conflict with a moribund group of old adherents of serfdom; their accusation of demagogy. the general staff. my practice command of a company in the rd pultussk regiment. here i put an end to the system of striking the soldiers and made an unsuccessful experiment in "conscious discipline." yes, mr. kerensky, i did this also in my younger days. i privately abolished disciplinary punishment--"watch one another, restrain the weak-spirited--after all, you are decent men--show that you can do your duty without the stick." i finished my command: during the year the behaviour of the company had not been above the average, it drilled poorly and lazily. after my departure the old sergeant-major, stsepoura, gathered the company together, raised his fist significantly in the air and said distinctly, separating his words: "now it is not captain denikin whom you will have. do you understand?" "yes, sergeant-major." it was said, afterwards, that the company soon showed improvement. then came the war in manchuria; active service; hopes for the regeneration of the army. then an open struggle, in a stifled press, with the higher command of the army, against stagnation, ignorance, privileges and licence--a struggle for the welfare of the officer and the soldier. the times were stern--all my service, all my military career was at stake. then came my command of a regiment, constant care for the improvement of the condition of the soldiers, after my pultussk experience--strict service demands, but also respect for the human dignity of the soldier. at that time we seemed to understand one another and were not strangers. then came war again, the "iron" division, nearer relations with the rifleman and work with him in common. the staff was always near the positions, so as to share mud, want of space, and dangers with the men. then a long, laborious path, full of glorious battles, in which a common life, common sufferings and common fame brought us still closer together, and created a mutual faith and a touching proximity. no, i have never been an enemy to the soldier. i threw off my cloak, and, jumping from the wooden bed, went up to the window, where the figure of a soldier clung to the grating, belching forth curses. "you lie, soldier! it is not your own words that you are speaking. if you are not a coward, hiding in the rear, if you have been in action, you have seen how your officers could die. you have seen that they...." his hands loosened their grip and the figure disappeared. i think it was simply because of my stern address, which, despite the impotence of a prisoner, produced its usual effect. fresh faces appeared at the window and at the peep-hole in the door. it was not always, however, that we met with insolence alone. sometimes, through the assumed rudeness of our gaolers we could see a feeling of awkwardness, confusion and even commiseration. but of these feelings they were ashamed. on the first cold night, when we had none of our things, a guard brought markov, who had forgotten his overcoat, a soldier's overcoat, but half an hour later--whether he had grown ashamed of his good action, or whether his comrades had shamed him--he took it back. in markov's cursory notes we find: "we are looked after by two austrian prisoners.... besides them, we have as our caterer a soldier, formerly of the finland rifles (a russian), a very kind and thoughtful man. during our first days he, too, had a hard time of it--his comrades gave him no peace; now, however, matters are all right; they have quieted down. his care for our food is simply touching, while the news he brings is delightful in its simplicity. yesterday, he told me that he would miss us when we are taken away. "i soothed him by saying that our places would soon be filled by new generals--that all had not yet been destroyed." my heart is heavy. my feelings seem to be split in two: i hate and despise the savage, cruel, senseless mob, but still i feel the old pity for the soldier: an ignorant, illiterate man, who has been led astray, and is capable both of abominable crimes and of lofty sacrifices! soon the duty of guarding us was given to the cadets of the nd zhitomir school of nd lieutenants. our condition became much easier from the moral point of view. they not only watched over the prisoners, but also guarded them from the mob. and the mob, more than once, on various occasions, gathered near the guard-room and roared wildly, threatening to lynch us. in such cases the company on guard gathered hastily in a house nearly opposite us and the cadets on guard made ready their machine-guns. i recall that, calmly and clearly realising my danger, when the mob was especially stormy, i planned out my method of self-defence: a heavy water-bottle stood upon my table; with it i might hit the first man to break into my cell; his blood would infuriate and intoxicate the "comrades," and they would kill me at once, without torturing me.... with the exception, however, of such unpleasant moments, our life in prison went on in a measured, methodical way; it was quiet and restful; after the strain of our campaigning, and in comparison with the moral suffering we had undergone, the physical inconveniences of the prison régime were mere trifles. our life was varied by little incidents. sometimes a bolshevist cadet standing at the door would tell the sentry loudly, so that his words might be heard in the cell, that at their last meeting the comrades of lyssaya gora, having lost all patience, had finally decided to lynch us, and added that this was what we deserved. another time, markov, passing along the corridor, saw a cadet sentry leaning on his rifle, with the tears streaming from his eyes--he felt sorry for us. what a strange, unusual exhibition of sentiment in our savage days. for a fortnight i did not leave my cell for exercise, not wishing to be an object of curiosity for the "comrades," who surrounded the square before the guard-room and examined the arrested generals as if they were beasts in a menagerie. i had no communication with my neighbours, but much time for meditation and thought. and every day as i open my window i hear from the house opposite a high, tenor voice--whether of friend or foe i know not--singing: "this is the last day that i ramble with you, my friends." chapter xxxiii. in berdichev gaol--the transfer of the "berdichev group" of prisoners to bykhov. besides markov and me, whose share in events has been depicted in the preceding chapters, the following were cast into prison: . general erdeli, commander of the special army. . lieutenant-general varnovsky, commander of the st army. . lieutenant-general selivatchev, commander of the th army. . lieutenant-general eisner, chief of supplies to the south-western front. the guilt of these men lay in their expression of solidarity with my telegram no. , and of the last, moreover, in his fulfilment of my orders for the isolation of the frontal region with respect to kiev and zhitomir. and . general eisner's assistants--general parsky and general sergievsky--men who had absolutely no connection with events. . major-general orlov, quartermaster-general of the staff of the front--a wounded man with a withered arm, timid, and merely carrying out the orders of the chief-of-staff. . lieutenant kletsando, of the tchekh troops, who had wounded a soldier of lyssaya gora on august th. . captain prince krapotkin, a man over sixty years of age, a volunteer, and the commandant of the commander-in-chief's train. he was not initiated into events at all. general selivatchev, general parsky and general sergievsky were soon released. prince krapotkin was informed on september th that his actions had not been criminal, but was set free only on september rd, when it appeared that we were not to be tried at berdichev. for a charge of rebellion to hold good against us an association of eight men at the very least had to be discovered. our antagonists were much interested in this figure, being desirous of observing the rules of decorum.... there was another prisoner, however, kept in reserve and separate from us, at the commandant's office, and even afterwards transferred to bykhov--a military official named boudilovitch--a youth weak in body, but strong in spirit, who on one occasion dared to tell a wrathful mob that it was not worth the little finger of those whom it was maltreating.[ ] no other crime was imputed to him. on the second or third day of my imprisonment i read in a newspaper, which had accidentally or purposely found its way into my cell, an order from the provisional government to the senate, dated august th, which ran as follows: "lieutenant-general denikin, commander-in-chief of the armies of the south-western front, to be removed from the post of commander-in-chief and brought to trial for rebellion.--signed: minister-president a. kerensky and b. savinkov--in charge of the war ministry." on the same date similar orders were issued concerning generals kornilov, lukomsky, markov and kisliakov. later an order was issued for the removal of general romanovsky. on the second or the third day of my arrest the guard-room was visited, for our examination, by a committee of investigation, under the superintendence of the chief field prosecutor of the front, general batog, and under the presidency of assistant-commissar kostitsin, consisting of: lieutenant-colonel shestoperov, in charge of the juridical section of the commissariat; lieutenant-colonel frank, of the kiev military court; nd lieut. oudaltsov and junior sergeant of artillery levenberg, members of the committee of the front. my evidence, in view of the facts of the case, was very short, and consisted of the following statements: ( ) none of the persons arrested with me had taken part in any active proceedings against the government; ( ) all orders given to and through the staff during my last days, in connection with general kornilov's venture, proceeded from me; ( ) i considered, and still consider, that the activity of the provisional government is criminal and ruinous for russia, but that nevertheless i had not instituted a rebellion against it, but having sent my telegram no. , i had left it to the provisional government to take such action towards me as it might see fit. later the chief military prosecutor, shablovsky, having acquainted himself with the material of the investigation and with the circumstances which had arisen around it in berdichev, was horrified at the "uncautious formulation" of my evidence. by september st iordansky was already reporting to the war ministry that the committee of investigation had discovered documents establishing the existence of a conspiracy which had long been preparing.... at the same time, iordansky, man of letters, inquired of the government whether, in the matter of the direction of the cases of the generals arrested, he could act within the limits of the law, _in conformity with local circumstances_, or whether he was bound to be guided by any _political considerations_ of the central authority. in reply he was informed that he must act reckoning with the law alone and ... _taking into consideration local circumstances_.[ ] in view of this explanation, iordansky decided to commit us for trial by a revolutionary court-martial, to which end a court was formed of members of one of the divisions formerly subordinated to me at the front, while captain pavlov, member of the executive committee of the south-western front, was marked down for public prosecutor. thus the interests of competency, impartiality and fair play were observed. iordansky was so anxious to obtain a speedy verdict for myself and for the generals imprisoned with me that on september rd he proposed that the commission, without waiting for the elucidation of the circumstances, should present the cases to the revolutionary court-martial in groups, as the guilt of one or other of the accused was established. we were much depressed by our complete ignorance of what was taking place in the outer world. on rare occasions kostitsin acquainted us with the more important current events, but in the commissar's comments on the events only depressed us still more. it was clear, however, that the government was breaking up altogether, that bolshevism was raising its head higher and higher, and that the country must inevitably perish. about september th or th, when the investigation was over, our prison surroundings underwent, to some extent, a change. newspapers began to appear in our cells almost daily; at first secretly, afterwards, from september nd, officially. at the same time, after the relief of one of the companies of guards, we decided to try an experiment: during our exercise in the corridor i approached markov and started talking with him; the sentries did not interfere. from that time we began talking with one another every day; sometimes the sentries demanded that we should stop, and then we were silent at once, but more frequently they did not interfere. in the second half of september visitors also were allowed; the curiosity of the "comrades" of lyssaya gora was now apparently satisfied; fewer of them gathered about the square, and i used to go out to walk every day, was able to see all the prisoners and exchange a few words with them now and again. now, at least, we knew what was doing in the world, while the possibility of meeting one another removed the depression caused by isolation. from the papers we learned that the investigation of the kornilov case was committed to the supreme investigation committee, presided over by the chief military and naval prosecutor, shablovsky.[ ] about september th, in the evening, a great noise and the furious shouts of a large crowd were heard near the prison. in a little while four strangers entered my cell--confused and much agitated by something or other. they said they were the president and members of the supreme committee of investigation for the kornilov case.[ ] shablovsky, in a still somewhat broken voice, began to explain that the purpose of their arrival was to take us off to bykhov, and that, judging by the temper which had developed in berdichev, and by the fury of the mob which now surrounded the prison, they could see that there were no guarantees for justice here, but only savage revenge. he added that the committee had no doubt as to the inadmissibility of any segregation of our cases, and as to the necessity of a common trial for all the participators in the kornilov venture, but that the commissariat and the committees were using all means against this. the committee, therefore, asked me whether i would not wish to supplement my evidence by any facts which might yet more clearly establish the connection between our case and kornilov's. in view of the impossibility of holding the examination amidst the roar of the crowd which had gathered, they decided to postpone it to the following day. the committee departed; soon after the crowd dispersed. what more could i tell them? only, perhaps, something of the advice which kornilov had given me at moghilev, and through a messenger. but this was done as a matter of exceptional confidence on the part of the supreme commander-in-chief, which i could in no case permit myself to break. therefore, the few details which i added next day to my original evidence did not console the commission and did not, apparently, satisfy the volunteer, a member of the committee of the front, who was present at the examination. nevertheless, we waited with impatience for our liberation from the berdichev chamber of torture. but our hopes were clouded more and more. the newspaper of the committee of the front methodically fomented the passions of the garrison; it was reported that at all the meetings of all the committees resolutions were passed against letting us out of berdichev; the committee members were agitating mightily among the rear units of the garrison, and meetings were held which passed off in a spirit of great exaltation. the aim of the shablovsky commission was not attained. as it turned out in the beginning of september, to shablovsky's demand that a separate trial of the "berdichev group" should not be allowed, iordansky replied that "to say nothing of the transfer of the generals to any place whatsoever, even the least postponement of their trial would threaten russia with incalculable calamities--complications at the front, and a new civil war in the rear," and that both on political and on tactical grounds it was necessary to have us tried in berdichev, in the shortest possible time, and by revolutionary court-martial.[ ] the committee of the front and the kiev soviet of workmen's and soldiers' delegates would not agree to our transfer, despite all the arguments and persuasions brought forward at their meeting by shablovsky and the members of his commission. on the way back, at moghilev, a consultation took place on this question between kerensky, shablovsky, iordansky and batog. all, excepting shablovsky, came to the altogether unequivocal conclusion that the front was shaken, that the soldiery was restless and demanding a victim, and that it was necessary to enable the tense atmosphere to discharge itself, even at the cost of injustice.... shablovsky rose and declared that he would not permit such a cynical attitude toward law and justice. i remember that this tale perplexed me. it is not worth while disputing about points of view. but if the minister-president is convinced that in the matter of protecting the state it is admissible to let oneself be guided by expediency, in what way, then, was kornilov to blame? on september th a debate took place in petrograd, in the last "court of appeal"--in the military section of the executive committee of the council of workmen's and soldiers' delegates--between shablovsky and the representative of the committee of the south-western front, fully supported by iordansky. the last two declared that if the revolutionary court-martial was not held on the spot, in berdichev, in the course of the next five days the lynching of the prisoners was to be feared. however, the central committee agreed with shablovsky's arguments, and sent its resolution to that effect to berdichev. so an organised lynching was prevented. but the revolutionary institutions of berdichev had at their service another method for liquidating the "berdichev group," an easy and irresponsible one--the method of popular wrath.... a rumour spread that we were to be taken away on the rd, then it was stated that our departure would take place on the th at p.m. from the passenger station. to take the prisoners away without making the fact public was in no way difficult: in a motor-car, on foot in a column of cadets, or, again, in a railway carriage--a narrow gauge-line came close up to the guard-house and joined on to the broad gauge-line outside the town and the railway station.[ ] but such a method of transferring us did not agree with the intentions of the commissariat and the committees. general doukhonin inquired from the stavka, of the staff of the front, whether there were any reliable units in berdichev, and offered to send a detachment to assist in our move. the staff of the front declined assistance. the commander-in-chief, general volodchenko, had left on the eve, the th, for the front.... much talk and an unhealthy atmosphere of expectation and curiosity were being artificially created around this question.... kerensky sent a telegram to the commissariat: "i am sure of the prudence of the garrison, which may elect, from among its numbers, two representatives to accompany." in the morning the commissariat began visiting all the units in the garrison, to obtain their consent to our transfer. the committee had appointed a meeting of the whole garrison for p.m., _i.e._, three hours before our departure, and in the field, moreover, immediately beside our prison. this mass meeting did indeed take place; at it the representatives of the commissariat and of the committee of the front announced the orders for our transfer to bykhov, thoughtfully announced the hour of our departure and appealed to the garrison ... to be prudent; the meeting continued for a long time and, of course, did not disperse. by o'clock an excited crowd of thousands of men had surrounded the guard-room, and its dull murmur made its way into the building. among the officers of the cadet battalion of the nd zhitomir school of nd lieutenants, which was on guard this day, was captain betling, wounded in many battles, who before the war had served in the th archangelogorod infantry regiment, which i commanded.[ ] betling asked the superior officer of the school to replace by his half-company the detachment appointed to accompany the prisoners to the railway station. we all dressed and came out into the corridor. we waited. an hour, two hours passed.... the meeting continued. numerous speakers called for an immediate lynching.... the soldier who had been wounded by lieutenant kletsando was shouting hysterically and demanding his head.... standing in the porch of the guard-room, assistant commissaries kostitsin and grigoriev were trying persuasion with the mob. that dear betling, too, spoke several times, hotly and passionately. we could not hear his words. at last, pale and agitated, betling and kostitsin came up to me. "how will you decide? the crowd has promised not to touch anyone, only it demands that you should be taken to the station on foot. but we cannot answer for anything." i replied: "let us go." i took off my cap and crossed myself: "lord, bless us!" * * * * * the crowd raged. we, the seven of us, surrounded by a group of cadets, headed by betling, who marched by my side with drawn sword, entered the narrow passage through this living human sea, which pressed on us from all sides. in front were kostitsin and the delegates (twelve to fifteen) chosen by the garrison to escort us. night was coming on, and in its eerie gloom, with the rays of the searchlight on the armoured car cutting through it now and then, moved the raving mob, growing and rolling on like a flaming avalanche. the air was full of a deafening roar, hysterical shouts, and mephitic curses. at times they were covered by betling's loud, anxious voice: "comrades, you have given your word!... comrades, you have given your word!..." the cadets, those splendid youths, crushed together on all sides, push aside with their bodies the pressing crowd, which disorders their thin ranks. passing the pools left by yesterday's rain, the soldiers fill their hands with mud and pelt us with it. our faces, eyes, ears, are covered with its fetid, viscid slime. stones come flying at us. poor, crippled general orlov has his face severely bruised; erdeli and i, as well, were struck--in the back and on the head. on our way we exchanged monosyllabic remarks. i turned to markov: "what, my dear professor, is this the end?" "apparently...." the mob would not let us come up to the station by the straight path. we were taken by a roundabout way, some three miles altogether, through the main streets of the town. the crowd is growing. the balconies of the berdichev houses are full of curious spectators; the women wave their handkerchiefs. gay, guttural voices come from above: "long live freedom!" the railway station is flooded with light. there we find a new, vast crowd of several thousand people. and all this has merged in the general sea which rages and roars. with enormous difficulty we are brought through it under a hail of curses and of glances full of hatred. the railway carriage. an officer--elsner's son--sobbing hysterically and addressing impotent threats to the mob, and his soldier servant, lovingly soothing him, as he takes away his revolver; two women, dumb with horror--kletsando's wife and sister, who had thought to see him off.... we wait for an hour, for another. the train is not allowed to leave--a prisoner's car is demanded. there were none at the station. the mob threatens to do for the commissaries. kostitsin is slightly buffeted. a goods car is brought, all defiled with horse-dung--what a trifle! we enter it without the assistance of a platform; poor orlov is lifted in with difficulty; hundreds of hands are stretched towards us through the firm and steady ranks of the cadets.... it is already p.m. the engine gives a jerk. the crowd booms out still louder. two shots are heard. the train starts. the noise dies away, the lights grow dimmer. farewell berdichev! kerensky shed a tear of delight over the self-abnegation of "our saviours"--as he called--not the cadets, but the commissaries and the committee members. "what irony of fate! general denikin, arrested as kornilov's accomplice, was saved from the rage of the frenzied soldiers by the members of the executive committee of the south-western front and by the commissaries of the provisional government." "i remember with what agitation i and the never-to-be-forgotten doukhonin read the account of how a handful of these brave men escorted the arrested generals through a crowd of thousands of soldiers who were thirsting for their blood...."[ ] why slander the dead? certainly, doukhonin was no less anxious for the fate of the prisoners than for ... the fate of their revolutionary escort.... that roman citizen, pontius pilate, smiled mockingly through the gloom of the ages.... chapter xxxiv. some conclusions as to the first period of the revolution. history will not soon give us a picture of the revolution in a broad, impartial light. those prospects which are now opening out to our view are sufficient only to enable us to grasp certain particular phenomena in it and, perhaps, to reject the prejudices and misconceptions which have sprung up around them. the revolution was inevitable. it is called a revolution of the whole people. this is correct only in so far as the revolution was the result of the discontent of literally all classes of the population with the old power. but upon the question of its achievements opinions were divided, and deep breaches were bound to appear between classes on the very next day after the downfall of the old power. the revolution was many-faced. for the peasants--the ownership of the land; for the workmen--the ownership of profits; for the liberal bourgeoisie--changed political conditions of life in the land and moderate social reforms; for the revolutionary democracy--power and the maximum of social achievement; for the army--absence of authority and the cessation of the war. with the downfall of the power of the czar, there was left in the country, until the summoning of a constituent assembly, no lawful power, no power that had a juridical basis. this is perfectly natural and follows from the very nature of a revolution. but whether through genuine misconception or deliberately perverting the truth, men have fabricated theories, known to be false, about the "general popular origin of the provisional government" or about the "full powers of the soviet of workmen's and soldiers' delegates," as an organ supposed to represent the "whole of the russian democracy." what an elastic conscience one must have, if, while professing democratic principles and protesting violently against the slightest deviation from orthodox conditions of the lawfulness of elections, one can still ascribe full powers, as the organ of democracy, to the petrograd soviet or to the congress of soviets, the election of which is of an extraordinary simplified and one-sided character. it was not without reason that for a long time the petrograd soviet hesitated to publish lists of its members. as to the supreme power, to say nothing of its "popular origin" from a "private meeting of the state duma," the technique of its construction was so imperfect that repeated crises might have put an end to its very existence and to every trace of its continuity. finally, a really "popular" government could not have remained isolated, left by all to the will of a group of usurpers of authority. that same government which, in the days of march, so easily obtained general recognition. recognition, yes, but not practical support. after march rd, and up to the constituent assembly, _every_ supreme authority bore the marks of self-assumed power, and _no_ power could satisfy all classes of the population, in view of the irreconciliableness of their interests and the intemperance of their desires. neither of the ruling powers (the provisional government and the soviet) enjoyed the due support of the _majority_. for this majority ( per cent.) said, through its representatives in the constituent assembly of : "we peasants make no difference between parties; parties fight for power, while our peasant business is the land alone." but even if, forestalling the will of the constituent assembly, the provisional government had satisfied these desires of the majority in full, it could not have reckoned on this majority's immediate submission to the general interests of the state, nor on its _active_ support: engaged in the redistribution of the land, which also had a strong attraction for the elements at the front, the peasantry would scarcely have given the state, voluntarily, the forces and the means for putting it in order, _i.e._ plenty of corn and plenty of soldiers--brave, faithful and obedient to the law. even then the government would have been faced with insoluble problems: an army which did not fight, an unproductive industry, a transport system which was being broken down and ... the civil war of parties. let us, therefore, set aside the popular and democratic origin of the provisional authority. let it be self-assumed, as it has been in the history of all revolutions and of all peoples. but the very fact of the wide recognition of the provisional government gave it a vast advantage over all the other forces which disputed its authority. it was necessary, however, that this power should become so strong, so absolute in its nature, so autocratic, as, having crushed all opposition by force, perhaps by arms, to have led the country to a constituent assembly, elected in surroundings which did not admit of the falsification of the popular vote, and to have protected this assembly. we are apt to abuse the words "elemental force," as an excuse for many phenomena of the revolution. that "molten element" which swept kerensky away with the greatest ease, has it not fallen into the iron grip of lenin-bronstein and, for more than three years, been unable to escape from bolshevist duress? if such a power, harsh, but inspired by reason and by a true desire for popular rule, had assumed authority and, having crushed the _licence_ into which _freedom_ had been transmuted, had led this authority to a constituent assembly, the russian people would have blessed, not condemned it. in such a position will every provisional authority find itself which accepts the heritage of bolshevism; and russia will judge it, not by the juridical marks of its origin, but by its works. why is the overthrow of the incompetent authority of the old government to be an achievement, to the memory of which the provisional government proposed erecting a monument in the capital, while the attempt to overthrow the incompetent authority of kerensky, made by kornilov, after exhausting all lawful means and after provocation on the part of the minister-president, is to be counted rebellion? but the need for a powerful authority is far from being exhausted by the period preceding the constituent assembly. did not the assembly of call in vain on the country, not for submission, but simply for protection from physical outrage on the part of the turbulent sailor horde? yet not a hand was raised in its defence. let us grant that _that_ assembly, born in an atmosphere of mutiny and violence, did not express the will of the russian people and that the future assembly will reflect that will more perfectly. i think, however, that even those who have the most exalted faith in the infallibility of the democratic principle do not close their eyes to the unbounded possibilities of the future which will be the heritage of such a physical and psychological transformation in the people as is unknown to history and has never yet been investigated by anyone. who knows whether it may not be necessary to confirm the democratic principle, the authority itself of the constituent assembly, and its commands, by iron and fresh bloodshed.... be that as it may, the _outward_ recognition of the provisional government took place. it would be difficult and useless to separate, in the work of the government, that which proceeded from its free will and sincere convictions from what bears the stamp of the forcible influence of the soviet. if tzeretelli was entitled to declare that "there has never yet been a case when, in important questions, the provisional government has not been ready to come to an agreement," so have we the right to identify their work and their responsibility. all this activity, _volens nolens_, bore the character of destruction, not creation. the government repealed, abolished, disbanded, permitted.... in this lay the centre of gravity of its work. i picture to myself the russia of that period as a very old house, in need of capital reconstruction. in the absence of means and while waiting for the building season (the constituent assembly), the builders began extracting the decayed girders, some of which they did not replace at all, others they replaced with light, temporary props, and others again they reinforced with new baulks without fastenings--the latter means turning out to be the worst. and the house crashed down. the causes of such a method of building were first: the absence of a complete and symmetrical plan among the russian political parties, the whole energy, mental and will tension of which were directed mainly towards the destruction of the former order. for we cannot give the name of practical plans to the abstract outlines of the party programmes; they are rather lawful or unlawful diplomas for the right of building. secondly--that the new ruling classes did not possess the most elementary technical knowledge of the art of ruling, as the result of a systematic, age-long setting them aside from these functions. thirdly--the non-forestalling of the will of the constituent assembly, which, in any case, called for heroic measures for its summoning, and therewith no less heroic measures for securing real freedom of election. fourthly--the odiousness of all that bore the stamp of the old order, even though it were sound at bottom. fifthly--the self-conceit of the political parties, each of which individually represented the "will of the whole people" and was distinguished by extreme irreconciliableness towards its antagonists. i might probably continue this list for a long time, but i shall pause on one fact which has a significance which is far from being confined to the past. the revolution was expected, it was prepared, but _no one_, not a single one of the political groups _had prepared itself for it_. and the revolution came by night, finding everyone, like the foolish virgins in the gospel, with lamps unlit. one cannot explain and excuse everything by elemental forces alone. no one had troubled to construct beforehand a general plan of the canals and sluices necessary to prevent the inundation from becoming a flood. not one of the leading parties possessed a programme for the interregnum in the life of the country, a programme which, in its character and scale, could not correspond with normal plans of construction, either in the system of administration or in the sphere of economic and social relations. it would scarcely be an exaggeration to say that the only assets in the possession of the progressive and socialist blocks on march th, , were: for the former--the choice for the post of minister-president of prince lvov, for the latter--the soviets and order no. . after this began the convulsive, unsystematic vacillation of the government and of the soviet. it is to be regretted that this difference, which constitutes a marked distinction between two periods--the provisional and the constructive--two systems, two programmes, has not yet become sufficiently clear in public consciousness. the whole period of the active struggle with bolshevism passed under the sign of the mingling of these two systems, of divergent views and of incapacity to construct a provisional form of authority. it would seem that now, too, the anti-bolshevist forces, while increasing the divergence of their views and building plans for the future, are not preparing for the process of assuming the power after the downfall of bolshevism, and will again approach the task with naked hands and wavering mind. only now the process will be immeasurably more difficult. for the second excuse--after "elemental forces"--for the failure of the revolution, or rather of its leading men--"the heritage of the czarist régime"--has paled very much on the background of the sanguinary bolshevist mist which has enveloped the land of russia. * * * * * the new power (the provisional government) was faced by a question of the first importance--the war. on its decision rested the fate of the country. the decision in favour of continuing the alliance and the war rested on ethical motives, which at that time did not rouse any doubts, and on practical motives, which were in some degree disputable. now, even the former have been shaken, since both the allies and the enemy have treated the fate of russia with cruel, cynical egotism. nevertheless, i have no doubt of the correctness of the decision then taken to continue the war. many suppositions might be made as to the possibilities of a separate peace--whether that of brest-litovsk or one less grievous for the state and for our national self-love. but it is to be thought that such a peace in the spring of would have led either to the dismemberment of russia and her economic _débâcle_ (a general peace at the expense of russia), or to the complete victory of the central powers over our allies, which would have produced incomparably deeper convulsions in their countries than those which the german people are now experiencing. both in the one case and in the other, no objective data would be present for any change for the better in the political, social and economic conditions of russian life and any turning of the russian revolution into other channels. only, besides bolshevism, russia would have added to her liabilities the hatred of the defeated for many years. having decided to fight, it was necessary to preserve the army by admitting a certain conservatism into it. such a conservatism serves as a guarantee for the stability of the army and of that authority which seeks support in it. if the participation of the army in historical cataclysms cannot be avoided, neither can it be turned into an arena for political struggle, creating, instead of the principle of service--_pretorians or opritchniks_, whether of the czar, of the revolutionary democracy, or of any party is a matter of indifference. the army was broken up. on those principles which the revolutionary democracy took as a basis for the existence of the army, the latter could neither build nor live. it was no mere chance that all the later attempts at armed conflict with bolshevism began with the organisation of an army on the normal principles of military administration, to which the soviet command as well sought to pass gradually. no elemental circumstances, no errors on the part of military dictatorships and of the powers co-operating with or opposing them which led to the failure of the struggle (of this some truths will be spoken later) are able to cast this undeniable fact into the shade. nor is it a mere chance that the leading circles of the revolutionary democracy could create no armed forces, except that pitiful parody on them--the "national army" on the so-called "front of the constituent assembly." it was just this circumstance that led the russian socialist emigrants to the theory of non-resistance, of the negation of armed struggle, to the concentration of all their hopes on the inner degeneration of bolshevism and its overthrow by some immaterial "forces of the people themselves," which, however, could not express themselves otherwise than by blood and iron: "the great, bloodless" revolution is drowned in blood from its beginning to its end. to refuse to consider that vast question--the re-creation of a national army on firm principles--is not to solve it. what then? on the day that bolshevism falls will peace and good-will immediately show forth in a land corrupted by a slavery worse than that of the tartar yoke, saturated with dissension, revenge, hatred, and ... an enormous quantity of arms? or, from that day forward, will the self-interested desires of many foreign governments disappear, or will they grow stronger when the menace of the moral infection of the soviet has vanished? finally, even should the whole of old europe, morally regenerated, beat out its swords into ploughshares, is it impossible for a new tchingiz-khan to come out of the depths of that asia which has accounts age-long and huge beyond measure, against europe? the army will be regenerated. of that there can be no doubt. shaken in its historical foundations and traditions, like the heroes of the russian legends, it will stand for no short time at the cross-roads, gazing anxiously into the misty distances, still wrapped in the gloom before the dawn, and listening intently to the vague sounds of the voices calling to it. and among the delusive calls it will seek, straining its hearing to the utmost, for the real voice ... the voice of its own people. printed by the field press ltd., windsor house, bream's buildings, london, e.c. . footnotes: [ ] _barin_ is the russian word for master. it also means gentleman, and was used by the peasants and by servants in addressing their superiors. [ ] the french deputy, louis martin, estimates the losses of the armies in killed alone as follows:--(in millions) russia ½, germany , austria ½, france . , great britain . , italy . , etc. russia's share of the martyrdom of all the allied forces is per cent. [ ] president of the duma. [ ] the grand duke here refers to the manifesto drafted by witte, granting various liberties and decreeing the convocation of the duma. [ ] miliukov: _history of the second russian revolution_. [ ] minister of war. [ ] chessin: _la révolution russe_. [ ] quartermaster-general of the commander-in-chief of all fronts. [ ] chief of staff of the northern front (com.-in-ch., general ruzsky). [ ] count fredericks, narishkine, ruzsky, gutchkov, shulgin. [ ] shulgin's narrative. [ ] prince lvov, miliukov, kerensky, nekrassov, teresvtchenko, godnev, lvov, gutchkov, and rodzianko. [ ] miliukov: _history of the second russian revolution_. [ ] the murder took place on the night of july th, . [ ] much time, pains and labour were devoted to the task of collecting information about the murdered imperial family by general dietrichs. [ ] the term _soviet_ for brevity will be used in the course of the narrative instead of _soviet of workmen's and soldiers' delegates_. [ ] the word _defensists_ is used as a translation of the newly-coined russian word _oboronetz_, which means "he who is in favour of a defensive war." [ ] a "poud" is equal to pounds. [ ] gustave le-bon, _the psychology of socialism_. [ ] the restoration of poland in her _ethnographic_ frontiers was intended by russia also. [ ] _mes souvenirs de guerre._ [ ] these lists contained the names of those suspected of relations with the enemy governments. [ ] among the members of the committee were, for instance, zourabov and perzitch, who had served under parvus. [ ] it is curious that bronstein (trotsky)--a person sufficiently competent in the matter of secret communications with the staffs of our antagonists--said in the _izvestia_ for july th, : "in the paper _nashe slovo_ i have exposed and pilloried skoropis-yoltoukhovsky, potok and melenevsky as agents of the austrian general staff." [ ] v. chap. iv.--of course articles and did not meet with the approval of public opinion. [ ] generally speaking, the special services, and especially the artillery, retained their likeness to human beings, as well as a certain amount of discipline, much longer than the infantry. [ ] leonid andreiev's article: "_to thee, oh soldier!_" [ ] the greatest part was played by lieutenant-colonels of the general staff, lebedev (afterwards chief-of-staff to admiral koltchak) and pronin. [ ] the president was colonel novosiltsev, a member of the fourth state douma, a cadet (constitutional democrat). [ ] the last charter to the cossacks of the don was granted on january , , by the emperor nicholas ii., and contained the following words: "... we confirm all the rights and privileges granted to it (the cossack army), affirming by our imperial word both the indefeasibility of its present form of service, which has earned the army of the don historic glory and the inviolability of all its estates and lands, gained by the labours, merits and blood of its ancestors...." [ ] such was the name given to the non-cossack immigrant element in the territory. [ ] with artillery to correspond. [ ] in the territory of the don the peasants formed per cent. of the population and the cossacks per cent. [ ] in places, the territorial council of "outsiders." [ ] in the principal territories--on the don and on the kouban--the cossacks formed about one-half of the population. [ ] of these phenomena i shall speak later in more detail. [ ] the don, the kouban, the terek, astrakhan, and the mountaineers of the northern caucasus. i shall speak of this later. [ ] the third cavalry corps, in kornilov's advance against kerensky. [ ] the third cavalry corps with kerensky against the bolsheviks. [ ] the ural cossacks, until their tragic fall in the end of , knew not bolshevism. [ ] general alexeiev ordered its disbandment, but kerensky permitted it to remain. [ ] they were disbanded. [ ] a socialist-revolutionary emigrant and an active worker in his party. he was appointed to this post by kerensky, at the desire of the kiev council of soldiers' delegates. [ ] oberoutchev. _in the days of the revolution._ [ ] among others, my former th rifle division was subjected to ukrainisation. [ ] the ukrainian hetman skoropadsky was one of his ancestors. [ ] formerly commander of the th army corps. [ ] the proposal of abdication made to the emperor nicholas ii. [ ] gutchkov's official letter to the president of the government. [ ] colonels: baranovsky, yakoubovitch, prince toumanov, and later verkhovsky. [ ] th july--reply to the greeting of the moghilev soviet. [ ] see his evidence before the commission of inquiry. [ ] conversation by telegraph with colonel bazanovsky. [ ] savinkov: _the kornilov affair_. savinkov's expostulations prevailed. kornilov even consented to remove zavoiko from the limits of the front, but soon recalled him. [ ] chief of staff of the army. [ ] free thought. (transl. note). [ ] former editor of the _sovremenny mir_ (contemporary world), and social-democrat of the _yedinstvo_ group. in he edited the bolshevist newspaper in helsingfors. [ ] undoubtedly better than the committee of the western front. [ ] held on august th, . [ ] in august the balance of forces in the soviet altered rapidly in favour of the bolsheviks, giving them a majority. [ ] general parsky now occupies an important post in the soviet army, while general boldyrev was subsequently commander-in-chief of the anti-bolshevist "front of the constituent assembly" on the volga. [ ] st august. [ ] from the chief committee of the union of officers, the military league, the council of the union of cossack troops, the union of the knights of st. george, the conference of public men, etc. [ ] until august th, _i.e._, until the rupture with kornilov, kerensky could not bring himself to sign the draft laws embodying the "programme." [ ] the rd cavalry corps was summoned to petrograd by the provisional government. [ ] from the report of the inquiry it is seen that savinkov, in charge of the ministry of war, and the head of kerensky's secretariat, colonel baranovsky, despatched to the stavka, themselves admitted the possibility of simultaneous action by the soviet of workmen's and soldiers' delegates and the bolsheviks, the former under the influence of the publication of the "kornilov programme," and the necessity for ruthlessly suppressing this. (protocol appendix xiii. to kornilov's deposition.) [ ] as we shall see later, savinkov stated in his evidence that he "suggested no political combinations in the name of the minister-president." [ ] the "kornilov programme" is meant here. [ ] the commanders-in-chief of the other fronts sent the provisional government telegrams of a completely loyal nature on august th. their tenor is seen from the following extracts: "northern front--general klembovsky: consider change in supreme command extremely dangerous when the threat of an external enemy to the integrity of our native land and our freedom demands the speedy adoption of measures for the strengthening of the discipline and fighting value of our army." "western front--general baluev: the present situation of russia demands the immediate adoption of exceptional measures, and the retention of general kornilov at the head of the army is an imperative necessity, no matter what the political situation." "roumanian front--general scherbachev: the dismissal of general kornilov will infallibly have a fatal effect on the army and the defence of the motherland. i appeal to your patriotism in the name of the salvation of our native land." all the commanders-in-chief mentioned the necessity for the introduction of the measures demanded by kornilov. [ ] this telegram was not received at headquarters. kerensky gives the episode with lvov thus: "on august th general kornilov sent to me vv. n. lvov, member of the state duma, with a demand that the provisional government should cede all its military and civil authority, leaving him to form a government for the country in accordance with his own personal views." [ ] on the morning of the th a telegram from the quartermaster-general at the stavka somehow reached us, in which again hopes of a peaceful settlement were held out. [ ] he went through the kouban campaigns with the volunteer army and served in it to the day of his death, from spotted typhus, in . [ ] official communication. [ ] the members of the commission were: col. raupach and col. oukraintsev, military jurists; kolokolov, examining magistrate; and lieber and krochmal, members of the executive committee of the soviet of workmen's and soldiers' delegates. [ ] shablovsky, kolokolov, raupach and oukraintsev. [ ] shablovsky's interview in the "retch." [ ] on that same morning we had been taken without any escort, with only one guard accompanying us, to the bath, about two-thirds of a mile from the guard-house, without attracting any attention. [ ] this gallant officer was afterwards one of the first volunteers, was wounded again in kornilov's first kouban campaign in , and died in the spring of of spotted typhus. [ ] the kornilov case. * * * * * * transcriber's note: every effort has been made to replicate this text as faithfully as possible. soviet order number is referred to as "order no. ." and "order no. i." in the printed text: this has been standardised to "order no. ." the original contained several unmatched double quotation marks. it was not possible to determine where the matching double quotation marks belonged, and none were added. the reference to the footnote "miliukov: _history of the second russian revolution_" on page was missing in the original. the following is a list of changes made to the original. the first line is the original line, the second the corrected one. shulguin and miliukov delivered their historical speeches, was shulgin and miliukov delivered their historical speeches, was upon which the czarist government could reply. everybody considered upon which the czarist government could rely. everybody considered the villages. government servants of all kinds were impoverishd the villages. government servants of all kinds were impoverished the proletariat, the troops, the bourgoisie, even the nobility ... the proletariat, the troops, the bourgeoisie, even the nobility ... terrorist crimes, military mutinies and aggrarian offences, etc. terrorist crimes, military mutinies and agrarian offences, etc. at pskov, on the evening of march st, the czar saw general rusky, at pskov, on the evening of march st, the czar saw general ruzsky, on the south-western front ukranian units were being formed. on the south-western front ukrainian units were being formed. socialistic dumas, closely reminiscent of semi-boshevik soviets. socialistic dumas, closely reminiscent of semi-bolshevik soviets. administration, on the same basis as that in the munipalities. administration, on the same basis as that in the municipalities. of agriculture, and of the economic stablity of the state. of agriculture, and of the economic stability of the state. as life was destroying allusions, and the implacable law as life was destroying illusions, and the implacable law new revolutionary régime is much more expensive that the old one. new revolutionary régime is much more expensive than the old one. the baltic fleet was actally in a state of complete insubordination. the baltic fleet was actually in a state of complete insubordination. and avaresco's army on my flank. i thus gained a and averesco's army on my flank. i thus gained a south-western front, in the direction from kamemetz-podolsk to lvov, south-western front, in the direction from kamenetz-podolsk to lvov, and afforded an excuse for the abitrariness and violence and afforded an excuse for the arbitrariness and violence senior commanding staff considered as inadmissable the democratisation senior commanding staff considered as inadmissible the democratisation gutchov, his assistants, and officers of the general staff. gutchkov, his assistants, and officers of the general staff. demanded that the regimetal committees should be empowered demanded that the regimental committees should be empowered of their registration in the international control list. of their registration in the international control list." in the secret police and director of the pre-revolutionary _pravdo_ in the secret police and director of the pre-revolutionary _pravda_ (the organ of the bolshevik social domocrats) broke them down. (the organ of the bolshevik social democrats) broke them down. issuing medical certicates even to the "thoroughly fit." issuing medical certificates even to the "thoroughly fit." he had sent in a request that morning for two poods of bread. he had sent in a request that morning for two pouds of bread. force every citizen to do his duty honestly by the motherland?" force every citizen to do his duty honestly by the motherland? factories, in the villages, among the liberal _intelligentcia_, factories, in the villages, among the liberal _intelligencia_, the don, the kouban, the terex, astrakhan, and the mountaineers the don, the kouban, the terek, astrakhan, and the mountaineers as soon as i give an order to some reserve regiment or other as soon as i gave an order to some reserve regiment or other that "discipline of duty" should be introduced from the top." that "discipline of duty" should be introduced from the top. broke our front and moved swiftly towards kaminetz-podolsk, broke our front and moved swiftly towards kamenetz-podolsk, on july th the austro-germans had aready reached mikulinze, on july th the austro-germans had already reached mikulinze, in the eyes of many people he bacame a national hero in the eyes of many people he became a national hero his chief-of-staff general lukomsky, generals alexeiev and russky, his chief-of-staff general lukomsky, generals alexeiev and ruzsky, manifested itself in a series of dismissal of senior commanders, manifested itself in a series of dismissals of senior commanders, a silence ensued, which i intrepreted as a permission to continue. a silence ensued, which i interpreted as a permission to continue. had already taken place on the th of july, at kamenets-podolsk. had already taken place on the th of july, at kamenetz-podolsk. was subordinated, not to the stavka, but to the minister of war, was subordinated, not to the stavka, but to the minister of war. the petrograd garrison, the depôt ballations of which it was proposed the petrograd garrison, the depôt battalions of which it was proposed honest and dishonest, sincere and insincere, politicans, soldiers honest and dishonest, sincere and insincere, politicians, soldiers even when the plekhanov, the old leader of the social-democrats, even when plekhanov, the old leader of the social-democrats, kornilov, loukomsky, romanovsky, and others were taken off kornilov, lukomsky, romanovsky, and others were taken off isolation of the frontal region wtih respect to kiev and zhitomir. isolation of the frontal region with respect to kiev and zhitomir. in the shortest possible time, and by revolutionary court-martial." in the shortest possible time, and by revolutionary court-martial. through its representatives in the consituent assembly of : through its representatives in the constituent assembly of : [ ] prince lvov, miliukov, kerensky, nekrasso, teresvtchenko, [ ] prince lvov, miliukov, kerensky, nekrassov, teresvtchenko, [ ] former editor of the _souvremenny mir_ (contemporary world), [ ] former editor of the _sovremenny mir_ (contemporary world), team. tent-life in siberia by george kennan [illustration: george kennan ] tent life in siberia a new account of an old undertaking adventures among the koraks and other tribes in kamchatka and northern asia by george kennan author of "siberia and the exile system," "campaigning in cuba," "the tragedy of pelee," "folk tales of napoleon" _with illustrations and maps_ preface to revised edition. this narrative of siberian life and adventure was first given to the public in --just forty years ago. since that time it has never been out of print, and has never ceased to find readers; and the original plates have been sent to the press so many times that they are nearly worn out. this persistent and long-continued demand for the book seems to indicate that it has some sort of perennial interest, and encourages me to hope that a revised, illustrated, and greatly enlarged edition of it will meet with a favourable reception. _tent life in siberia_ was put to press for the first time while i was absent in russia. i wrote the concluding chapters of it in st. petersburg, and sent them to the publishers from there in the early part of . i was then so anxious to get started for the mountains of the caucasus that i cut the narrative as short as i possibly could, and omitted much that i should have put in if i had had time enough to work it into shape. the present edition contains more than fifteen thousand words of new matter, including "our narrowest escape" and "the aurora of the sea," and it also describes, for the first time, the incidents and adventures of a winter journey overland from the okhotsk sea to the volga river--a straightaway sleigh-ride of more than five thousand miles. the illustrations of the present edition, which will, i hope, add greatly to its interest, are partly from paintings by george a. frost, who was with me on both of my siberian expeditions; and partly from photographs taken by messrs. jochelson and bogoras, two russian political exiles, who made the scientific investigations for the jesup north pacific expedition on the asiatic side of bering strait. i desire gratefully to acknowledge my indebtedness to the century company for permission to use parts of two articles originally written for _st. nicholas_; to mrs. a.d. frost, of north cambridge, mass., for photographs of her late husband's paintings; and to the american museum of natural history for the right to reproduce the siberian photographs of messrs. jochelson and bogoras. george kennan. beaufort, s.c. february , . preface the attempt which was made by the western union telegraph company, in - and , to build an overland line to europe via alaska, bering strait, and siberia, was in some respects the most remarkable undertaking of the nineteenth century. bold in its conception, and important in the ends at which it aimed, it attracted at one time the attention of the whole civilised world, and was regarded as the greatest telegraphic enterprise which had ever engaged american capital. like all unsuccessful ventures, however, in this progressive age, it has been speedily forgotten, and the brilliant success of the atlantic cable has driven it entirely out of the public mind. most readers are familiar with the principal facts in the history of this enterprise, from its organisation to its ultimate abandonment; but only a few, even of its original projectors, know anything about the work which it accomplished in british columbia, alaska, and siberia; the obstacles which were met and overcome by its exploring and working parties; and the contributions which it made to our knowledge of an hitherto untravelled, unvisited region. its employees, in the course of two years, explored nearly six thousand miles of unbroken wilderness, extending from vancouver island on the american coast to bering strait, and from bering strait to the chinese frontier in asia. the traces of their deserted camps may be found in the wildest mountain fastnesses of kamchatka, on the vast desolate plains of north-eastern siberia, and throughout the gloomy pine forests of alaska and british columbia. mounted on reindeer, they traversed the most rugged passes of the north asiatic mountains; they floated in skin canoes down the great rivers of the north; slept in the smoky _pologs_ of the siberian chukchis (chook'-chees); and camped out upon desolate northern plains in temperatures of ° and ° below zero. the poles which they erected and the houses which they built now stand alone in an encircling wilderness,--the only results of their three years' labour and suffering, and the only monuments of an abandoned enterprise. it is not my purpose to write a history of the russian-american telegraph. the success of its rival, the atlantic cable, has completely overshadowed its early importance, and its own failure has deprived it of all its interest for american readers. though its history, however, be unimportant, the surveys and explorations which were planned and executed under its auspices have a value and an interest of their own, aside from the object for which they were undertaken. the territory which they covered is little known to the reading world, and its nomadic inhabitants have been rarely visited by civilised man. only a few adventurous traders and fur-hunters have ever penetrated its almost unbroken solitudes, and it is not probable that civilised men will ever follow in their steps. the country holds out to the ordinary traveller no inducement commensurate with the risk and hardship which its exploration involves. two of the employees of the russian-american telegraph company, messrs. whymper and dall, have already published accounts of their travels in various parts of british columbia and alaska; and believing that a history of the company's explorations on the other side of bering strait will possess equal interest, i have written the following narrative of two years' life in north-eastern siberia. it makes no pretensions whatever to fulness of scientific information, nor to any very extraordinary researches of any kind. it is intended simply to convey as clear and accurate an idea as possible of the inhabitants, scenery, customs, and general external features of a new and comparatively unknown country. it is essentially a personal narrative of life in siberia and kamchatka; and its claim to attention lies rather in the freshness of the subject, than in any special devotion to science or skill of treatment. [illustration: head covering used in stalking seals] contents preface chapter i the overland telegraph line to russia--sailing of the first siberian exploring party from san francisco chapter ii crossing the north pacific--seven weeks in a russian brig chapter iii the picturesque coast of kamchatka--arrival in petropavlovsk chapter iv things russian in kamchatka--a verdant and flowery land--the village of two saints chapter v first attempt to learn russian--plan of exploration--division of party chapter vi a cossack wedding--the peninsula of kamchatka chapter vii starting northward--kamchatkan scenery, villages, and people chapter viii bridle paths of southern kamchatka--houses and food of the people--reindeer tongues and wild-rose petals--a kamchatkan driver's canticle chapter ix the beautiful valley of genal--walls of literature--scaring up a bear--end of horseback ride chapter x the kamchatka river--life on a canoe raft--reception at milkova--mistaken for the tsar chapter xi arrival at kluchei--the kluchefskoi volcano--a question of route--a russian "black bath" chapter xii canoe travel on the yolofka--volcanic conversation--"o susanna!"--talking "american"--a difficult ascent chapter xiii a dismal night--crossing the kamchatkan divide--another bear hunt--breakneck riding--tigil--steppes of northern kamchatka chapter xiv okhotsk seacoast--lesnoi--the "devil's pass"--lost in snow-storm--saved by brass box--wild scene chapter xv cut off by storm--starvation threatened--race with a rising tide--two days with food--return to lesnoi chapter xvi kamchatkan nights' entertainments--character of people-- salmon-fishing--sable-trapping--kamchadal language--native music--dog-driving--winter dress chapter xvii a fresh start--crossing the samanka mouns on a korak encampment-- nomads and their tents--door-holes and dogs--pologs--korak bread chapter xviii why the koraks wander--their independence--cheerless life--uses of the reindeer--korak ideas of distance--"monarch of the brass-handled sword." chapter xix the snow-drift compass--marriage by capture--an intoxicating fungus--monotony of korak life chapter xx the korak tongue--religion of terror--incantations of shamans--killing of old and sick--reindeer superstition--korak character chapter xxi first frost-bite--the settled koraks--hour-glass yurts--climbing down chimneys--yurt interiors--legs as features--travelling by "pavoska"--bad character of settled koraks chapter xxii first attempt at dog-driving--unpremeditated profanity--a runaway--arrival at gizhiga--hospitality of the ispravnik--plans for the winter chapter xxiii dog-sledge travel--arctic mirages--camp at night a howling chorus--northern lights chapter xxiv dismal shelter--arrival of a cossack courier--americans on the anadyr--arctic firewood--a siberian blizzard--lost on the steppe chapter xxv penzhina--posts for elevated road--fifty-three below zero--talked out--astronomical lectures--eating planets--the house of a priest chapter xxvi anadyrsk--an arctic outpost--severe climate--christmas services and carols--a siberian ball--music and refreshments--excited dancing--holiday amusements chapter xxvii news from the anadyr party--plan for its relief--the story of a stove-pipe--start for the seacoast chapter xxviii a sledge journey eastward--reaching tidewater--a night search for a stove-pipe--finding comrades--a voice from a stove--story of the anadyr party chapter xxix classification of natives--indian type, mongolian type, and turkish type--eastern view of western arts and fashions--an american saint chapter xxx an arctic aurora--orders from the major--adventures of macrae and arnold with the chukchis--return to gizhiga--review of winter's work chapter xxxi last work of the winter--birds and flowers of spring--continuous daylight--social life in gizhiga--a curious sickness--summer days and nights--news from america chapter xxxii dull life--arctic mosquitoes--waiting for supplies--ships signalled--bark "clara bell"--russian corvette "varag" chapter xxxiii arrival of bark "palmetto"--driven ashore by gale--discharging cargo under difficulties--negro crew mutinies--lonely trip to anadyrsk--stupid koraks--explosive provisions chapter xxxiv a meeting in the night--hardships of bush's party--siberian famines--fish savings banks--work in the northern district--starving pole cutters--a journey to yamsk chapter xxxv yurt on the topolofka--the valley of tempests--river of the lost--storm bound--escape by the ice-foot--a sleepless night--leet reported dead--yamsk at last chapter xxxvi bright anticipations---a whale-ship signalled--the bark "sea breeze"--news from the atlantic cable--reported abandonment of the overland line chapter xxxvii official confirmation of the bad news--the enterprise abandoned--a voyage to okhotsk--the aurora of the sea chapter xxxviii closing up the business--a bargain sale--telegraph teacups reduced--cheap shovels for grave-digging--wire fish nets at a sacrifice--our narrowest escape--blown out to sea--saved by the "onward" chapter xxxix start for st. petersburg--route to yakutsk--a tunguse encampment-- crossing the stanavoi mountains--severe cold--fire-lighted smoke pillars--arrival in yakutsk chapter xl the greatest horse-express service in the world--equipment for the road--a siberian "send-off"--post travel on the ice--broken sleep--driving into an air-hole--repairing damages--first sight of irkutsk chapter xli a plunge into civilisation--the nobles' ball--shocking language-- shakespeare's english--the great siberian road--passing tea caravans--rapid travel--fifty-seven hundred miles in eleven weeks--arrival in st. petersburg index illustrations george kennan, a tent of the wandering koraks in summer toward night: a tired dog-team from a painting by george a. frost. wandering koraks with their reindeer and sledges from a painting by george a. frost. a man of the wandering koraks tents and reindeer of the wandering koraks from a painting by george a. frost. drawings of the koraks. illustrative of their myths a korak girl korak dogs sacrificed to propitiate the spirits of evil a race of wandering korak reindeer teams from a painting by george a. frost. hour-glass houses of the settled koraks from a model in the american museum of natural history. interior of a korak yurt. getting fire with the fire drill from a photograph in the american museum of natural history. a woman entering a yurt of the settled koraks settled koraks in a trial of strength an old man of the settled koraks from a photograph in the american museum of natural history. yurt and dog-team of the settled koraks from a painting by george a. frost. a woman feeding a dog-team in gizhiga from a, painting by george a. frost. interior of a yurt of the settled koraks dog-teams descending a steep mountain slope chukchis assembling at anadyrsk for the winter fair anadyrsk in winter a man of the yukagirs a man of the wandering chukchis tunguse man and woman in best summer dress a tunguse summer tent a chukchi rug of reindeer skin tunguses on reindeer-back moving their encampment from a photograph in the american museum of natural history. a yurt of the settled koraks in midwinter an arctic funeral the yurt in the "stormy gorge of the viliga" from a painting by george a. frost. maps tent life in siberia chapter i the overland telegraph line to russia--sailing of the first siberian exploring party from san francisco. the russian-american telegraph company, otherwise known as the "western union extension," was organised at new york in the summer of . the idea of a line from america to europe, by way of bering strait, had existed for many years in the minds of several prominent telegraphers, and had been proposed by perry mcd. collins, as early as , when he made his trip across northern asia. it was never seriously considered, however, until after the failure of the first atlantic cable, when the expediency of an overland line between the two continents began to be earnestly discussed. the plan of mr. collins, which was submitted to the western union telegraph company of new york as early as , seemed to be the most practicable of all the projects which were suggested for intercontinental communication. it proposed to unite the telegraphic systems of america and russia by a line through british columbia, russian america, and north-eastern siberia, meeting the russian lines at the mouth of the amur (ah-moor) river on the asiatic coast, and forming one continuous girdle of wire nearly round the globe. this plan possessed many very obvious advantages. it called for no long cables. it provided for a line which would run everywhere overland, except for a short distance at bering strait, and which could be easily repaired when injured by accident or storm. it promised also to extend its line eventually down the asiatic coast to peking, and to develop a large and profitable business with china. all these considerations recommended it strongly to the favour of capitalists and practical telegraph men, and it was finally adopted by the western union telegraph company in . it was foreseen, of course, that the next atlantic cable might succeed, and that such success would prove very damaging, if not fatal, to the prospects of the proposed overland line. such an event, however, did not seem probable, and in view of all the circumstances, the company decided to assume the inevitable risk. a contract was entered into with the russian government, providing for the extension of the latter's line through siberia to the mouth of the amur river, and granting to the company certain extraordinary privileges in russian territory. similar concessions were obtained in from the british government; assistance was promised by the united states congress; and the western union extension company was immediately organised, with a nominal capital of $ , , . the stock was rapidly taken, principally by the stockholders of the original western union company, and an assessment of five per cent. was immediately made to provide funds for the prosecution of the work. such was the faith at this time in the ultimate success of the enterprise that in less than two months its stock sold for seventy-five dollars per share, with only one assessment of five dollars paid in. in august, , colonel charles s. bulkley, formerly superintendent of military telegraphs in the department of the gulf, was appointed engineer-in-chief of the proposed line, and in december he sailed from new york for san francisco, to organise and fit out exploring parties, and to begin active operations. led by a desire of identifying myself with so novel and important an enterprise, as well as by a natural love of travel and adventure which i had never before been able to gratify, i offered my services as an explorer soon after the projection of the line. my application was favourably considered, and on the th of december i sailed from new york with the engineer-in-chief, for the proposed headquarters of the company at san francisco. colonel bulkley, immediately after his arrival, opened an office in montgomery street, and began organising exploring parties to make a preliminary survey of the route of the line. no sooner did it become noised about the city that men were wanted to explore the unknown regions of british columbia, russian america, and siberia, than the company's office was thronged with eager applicants for positions, in any and every capacity. adventurous micawbers, who had long been waiting for something of this kind to turn up; broken-down miners, who hoped to retrieve their fortunes in new gold-fields yet to be discovered in the north; and returned soldiers thirsting for fresh excitement,--all hastened to offer their services as pioneers in the great work. trained and skilled engineers were in active demand; but the supply of only ordinary men, who made up in enthusiasm what they lacked in experience, was unlimited. month after month passed slowly away in the selection, organisation, and equipment of parties, until at last, in june, , the company's vessels were reported ready for sea. the plan of operations, so far as it had then been decided upon, was to land one party in british columbia, near the mouth of the frazer river; one in russian-america, at norton sound; and one on the asiatic side of bering strait, at the mouth of the anadyr (ah-nah'-dyr) river. these parties, under the direction respectively of messrs. pope, kennicott, and macrae, were directed to push back into the interior, following as far as practicable the courses of the rivers near which they were landed; to obtain all possible information with regard to the climate, soil, timber, and inhabitants of the regions traversed; and to locate, in a general way, a route for the proposed line. the two american parties would have comparatively advantageous bases of operations at victoria and fort st. michael; but the siberian party, if left on the asiatic coast at all, must be landed near bering strait, on the edge of a barren, desolate region, nearly a thousand miles from any known settlement. thrown thus upon its own resources, in an unknown country, and among nomadic tribes of hostile natives, without any means of interior transportation except canoes, the safety and success of this party were by no means assured. it was even asserted by many friends of the enterprise, that to leave men in such a situation, and under such circumstances, was to abandon them to almost certain death; and the russian consul at san francisco wrote a letter to colonel bulkley, advising him strongly not to land a party on the asiatic coast of the north pacific, but to send it instead to one of the russian ports of the okhotsk sea, where it could establish a base of supplies, obtain information with regard to the interior, and procure horses or dog-sledges for overland explorations in any desired direction. the wisdom and good sense of this advice were apparent to all; but unfortunately the engineer-in-chief had no vessel that he could send with a party into the okhotsk sea, and if men were landed at all that summer on the asiatic coast, they must be landed near bering strait. late in june, however, colonel bulkley learned that a small russian trading-vessel named the _olga_ was about to sail from san francisco for kamchatka (kam-chat'-kah) and the south-western coast of the okhotsk sea, and he succeeded in prevailing upon the owners to take four men as passengers to the russian settlement of nikolaievsk (nik-o-lai'-evsk), at the mouth of the amur river. this, although not so desirable a point for beginning operations as some others on the northern coast of the sea, was still much better than any which could be selected on the asiatic coast of the north pacific; and a party was soon organised to sail in the _olga_ for kamchatka and the mouth of the amur. this party consisted of major s. abaza, a russian gentleman who had been appointed superintendent of the work, and leader of the forces in siberia; james a. mahood, a civil engineer of reputation in california; r. j. bush, who had just returned from three years' active service in the carolinas, and myself,--not a very formidable force in point of numbers, nor a very remarkable one in point of experience, but strong in hope, self-reliance, and enthusiasm. on the th of june, we were notified that the brig _olga_ had nearly all her cargo aboard, and would have "immediate despatch." this marine metaphor, as we afterward learned, meant only that she would sail some time in the course of the summer; but we, in our trustful inexperience, supposed that the brig must be all ready to cast off her moorings, and the announcement threw us into all the excitement and confusion of hasty preparation for a start. dress-coats, linen shirts, and fine boots were recklessly thrown or given away; blankets, heavy shoes, and overshirts of flannel were purchased in large quantities; rifles, revolvers, and bowie-knives of formidable dimensions gave our room the appearance of a disorganised arsenal; pots of arsenic, jars of alcohol, butterfly-nets, snake-bags, pill-boxes, and a dozen other implements and appliances of science about which we knew nothing, were given to us by our enthusiastic naturalists and packed away in big boxes; wrangell's (vrang'el's) _travels_, gray's _botany_, and a few scientific works were added to our small library; and before night we were able to report ourselves ready--armed and equipped for any adventure, from the capture of a new species of bug, to the conquest of kamchatka! as it was against all precedent to go to sea without looking at the ship, bush and i appointed ourselves an examining committee for the party, and walked down to the wharf where she lay. the captain, a bluff americanised german, met us at the gangway and guided us through the little brig from stem to stern. our limited marine experience would not have qualified us to pass an _ex cathedra_ judgment upon the seaworthiness of a mud-scow; but bush, with characteristic impudence and versatility of talent, discoursed learnedly to the skipper upon the beauty of his vessel's "lines" (whatever those were), her spread of canvas and build generally,--discussed the comparative merits of single and double topsails, and new patent yard-slings, and reef-tackle, and altogether displayed such an amount of nautical learning that it completely crushed me and staggered even the captain. i strongly suspected that bush had acquired most of his knowledge of sea terms from a cursory perusal of bowditch's _navigator_, which i had seen lying on the office table, and i privately resolved to procure a compact edition of marryat's sea tales as soon as i should go ashore, and overwhelm him next time with such accumulated stores of nautical erudition that he would hide his diminished head. i had a dim recollection of reading something in cooper's novels about a ship's deadheads and cat's eyes, or cat-heads and deadeyes, i could not remember which, and, determined not to be ignored as an inexperienced landlubber, i gazed in a vague way into the rigging, and made a few very general observations upon the nature of deadeyes and spanker-booms. the captain, however, promptly annihilated me by demanding categorically whether i had ever seen the spanker-boom jammed with the foretopsailyard, with the wind abeam. i replied meekly that i believed such a catastrophe had never occurred under my immediate observation, and as he turned to bush with a smile of commiseration for my ignorance i ground my teeth and went below to inspect the pantry. here i felt more at home. the long rows of canned provisions, beef stock, concentrated milk, pie fruits, and a small keg, bearing the quaint inscription, "zante cur.," soon soothed my perturbed spirit and convinced me beyond the shadow of a doubt that the _olga_ was stanch and seaworthy, and built in the latest and most improved style of marine architecture. i therefore went up to tell bush that i had made a careful and critical examination of the vessel below, and that she would undoubtedly do. i omitted to state the nature of the observations upon which this conclusion was founded, but he asked no troublesome questions, and we returned to the office with a favourable report of the ship's build, capacity, and outfit. on saturday, july st, the _olga_ took in the last of her cargo, and was hauled out into the stream. our farewell letters were hastily written home, our final preparations made, and at nine o'clock on monday morning we assembled at the howard street wharf, where the steam-tug lay which was to tow us out to sea. a large party of friends had gathered to bid us good-bye; and the pier, covered with bright dresses and blue uniforms, presented quite a holiday appearance in the warm clear sunshine of a california morning. our last instructions were delivered to us by colonel bulkley, with many hearty wishes for our health and success; laughing invitations to "come and see us" were extended to our less fortunate comrades who were left behind; requests to send back specimens of the north pole and the aurora borealis were intermingled with directions for preserving birds and collecting bugs; and amid a general confusion of congratulations, good wishes, cautions, bantering challenges, and tearful farewells, the steamer's bell rang. dall, ever alive to the interests of his beloved science, grasped me cordially by the hand, saying, "good-bye, george. god bless you! keep your eye out for land-snails and skulls of the wild animals!" miss b---- said pleadingly: "take care of my dear brother"; and as i promised to care for him as if he were my own, i thought of another sister far away, who, could she be present, would echo the request: "take care of my dear brother." with waving handkerchiefs and repeated good-byes, we moved slowly from the wharf, and, steaming round in a great semicircle to where the _olga_ was lying, we were transferred to the little brig, which, for the next two months, was to be our home. the steamer towed us outside the "heads" of the golden gate, and then cast off; and as she passed us on her way back, our friends gathered in a little group on the forward deck, with the colonel at their head, and gave three generous cheers for the "first siberian exploring party." we replied with three more,--our last farewell to civilisation,--and silently watched the lessening figure of the steamer, until the white handkerchief which arnold had tied to the backstays could no longer be seen, and we were rocking alone on the long swells of the pacific. chapter ii crossing the north pacific--seven weeks in a russian brig "he took great content and exceeding delight in his voyage, as who doth not as shall attempt the like."--burton. at sea, miles n.w. of san francisco. _wednesday, july , _. ten days ago, on the eve of our departure for the asiatic coast, full of high hopes and joyful anticipations of pleasure, i wrote in a fair round hand on this opening page of my journal, the above sentence from burton; never once doubting, in my enthusiasm, the complete realisation of those "future joys," which to "fancy's eye" lay in such "bright uncertainty," or suspecting that "a life on the ocean wave" was not a state of the highest felicity attainable on earth. the quotation seemed to me an extremely happy one, and i mentally blessed the quaint old anatomist of melancholy for providing me with a motto at once so simple and so appropriate. of course "he took great content and exceeding delight in his voyage"; and the wholly unwarranted assumption that because "he" did, every one else necessarily must, did not strike me as being in the least absurd. on the contrary, it carried all the weight of the severest logical demonstration, and i would have treated with contempt any suggestion of possible disappointment. my ideas of sea life had been derived principally from glowing poetical descriptions of marine sunsets, of "summer isles of eden, lying in dark purple spheres of sea," and of those "moonlight nights on lonely waters" with which poets have for ages beguiled ignorant landsmen into ocean voyages. fogs, storms, and seasickness did not enter at all into my conceptions of marine phenomena; or if i did admit the possibility of a storm, it was only as a picturesque, highly poetical manifestation of wind and water in action, without any of the disagreeable features which attend those elements under more prosaic circumstances. i had, it is true, experienced a little rough weather on my voyage to california, but my memory had long since idealised it into something grand and poetical; and i looked forward even to a storm on the pacific as an experience not only pleasant, but highly desirable. the illusion was very pleasant while it lasted; but--it is over. ten days of real sea life have converted the "bright uncertainty of future joys" into a dark and decided certainty of future misery, and left me to mourn the incompatibility of poetry and truth. burton is a humbug, tennyson a fraud, i'm a victim, and byron and procter are accessories before the fact. never again will i pin my faith to poets. they may tell the truth nearly enough for poetical consistency, but their judgment is hopelessly perverted, and their imagination is too luxuriantly vivid for a truthful realistic delineation of sea life. byron's _london packet_ is a brilliant exception, but i remember no other in the whole range of poetical literature. our life since we left port has certainly been anything but poetical. for nearly a week, we suffered all the indescribable miseries of seasickness, without any alleviating circumstances whatever. day after day we lay in our narrow berths, too sick to read, too unhappy to talk, watching the cabin lamp as it swung uneasily in its well-oiled gimbals, and listening to the gurgle and swash of the water around the after dead-lights, and the regular clank, clank of the blocks of the try-sail sheet as the rolling of the vessel swung the heavy boom from side to side. we all professed to be enthusiastic supporters of the tapleyan philosophy--jollity under all circumstances; but we failed most lamentably in reconciling our practice with our principles. there was not the faintest suggestion of jollity in the appearance of the four motionless, prostrate figures against the wall. seasickness had triumphed over philosophy! prospective and retrospective reverie of a decidedly gloomy character was our only occupation. i remember speculating curiously upon the probability of noah's having ever been seasick; wondering how the sea-going qualities of the ark would compare with those of our brig, and whether she had our brig's uncomfortable way of pitching about in a heavy swell. if she had--and i almost smiled at the idea--what an unhappy experience it must have been for the poor animals! i wondered also if jason and ulysses were born with sea-legs, or whether they had to go through the same unpleasant process that we did to get them on. concluded finally that sea-legs, like some diseases must be a diabolical invention of modern times, and that the ancients got along in some way without them. then, looking intently at the fly-specks upon the painted boards ten inches from my eyes, i would recall all the bright anticipations with which i had sailed from san francisco, and turn over, with a groan of disgust, to the wall. i wonder if any one has ever written down on paper his seasick reveries. there are "evening reveries," "reveries of a bachelor," and "seaside reveries" in abundance; but no one, so far as i know, has ever even attempted to do his seasick reveries literary justice. it is a strange oversight, and i would respectfully suggest to any aspiring writer who has the reverie faculty, that there is here an unworked field of boundless extent. one trip across the north pacific in a small brig will furnish an inexhaustible supply of material. our life thus far has been too monotonous to afford a single noticeable incident. the weather has been cold, damp, and foggy, with light head winds and a heavy swell; we have been confined closely to our seven-by-nine after-cabin; and its close, stifling atmosphere, redolent of bilge-water, lamp oil, and tobacco smoke, has had a most depressing influence upon our spirits. i am glad to see, however, that all our party are up today, and that there is a faint interest manifested in the prospect of dinner; but even the inspiriting strains of the faust march, which the captain is playing upon a wheezy old accordion, fail to put any expression of animation into the woebegone faces around the cabin table. mahood pretends that he is all right, and plays checkers with the captain with an air of assumed tranquillity which approaches heroism, but he is observed at irregular intervals to go suddenly and unexpectedly on deck, and to return every time with a more ghastly and rueful countenance. when asked the object of these periodical visits to the quarter-deck, he replies, with a transparent affectation of cheerfulness, that he only goes up "to look at the compass and see how she's heading." i am surprised to find that looking at the compass is attended with such painful and melancholy emotions as those expressed in mahood's face when he comes back; but he performs the self-imposed duty with unshrinking faithfulness, and relieves us of a great deal of anxiety about the safety of the ship. the captain seems a little negligent, and sometimes does not observe the compass once a day; but mahood watches it with unsleeping vigilance. brig "olga," miles n.w. of san francisco. _sunday, july , _. the monotony of our lives was relieved night before last, and our seasickness aggravated, by a severe gale of wind from the north-west, which compelled us to lie to for twenty hours under one close-reefed maintopsail. the storm began late in the afternoon, and by nine o'clock the wind was at its height and the sea rapidly rising. the waves pounded like titanic sledgehammers against the vessel's quivering timbers; the gale roared a deep diapason through the cordage; and the regular thud, thud, thud of the pumps, and the long melancholy whistling of the wind through the blocks, filled our minds with dismal forebodings, and banished all inclination for sleep. morning dawned gloomily and reluctantly, and its first grey light, struggling through the film of water on the small rectangular deck lights, revealed a comical scene of confusion and disorder. the ship was rolling and labouring heavily, and mahood's trunk, having in some way broken from its moorings, was sliding back and forth across the cabin floor. bush's big meerschaum, in company with a corpulent sponge, had taken up temporary quarters in the crown of my best hat, and the major's box of cigars revolved periodically from corner to corner in the close embrace of a dirty shirt. sliding and rolling over the carpet in every direction were books, papers, cigars, brushes, dirty collars, stockings, empty wine-bottles, slippers, coats, and old boots; and a large box of telegraph material threatened momentarily to break from its fastenings and demolish everything. the major, who was the first to show any signs of animation, rose on one elbow in bed, gazed fixedly at the sliding and revolving articles, and shaking his head reflectively, said: "it is a c-u-r-ious thing! it _is_ a _c-u-r-_ious thing!" as if the migratory boots and cigar-boxes exhibited some new and perplexing phenomena not to be accounted for by any of the known laws of physics. a sudden roll in which the vessel indulged at that particular moment gave additional force to the sentiment of the soliloquy; and with renewed convictions, i have no doubt, of the original and innate depravity of matter generally, and of the pacific ocean especially, he laid his head back upon the pillow. it required no inconsiderable degree of resolution to "turn out" under such unpromising circumstances; but bush, after two or three groans and a yawn, made the attempt to get up and dress. climbing hurriedly down when the ship rolled to windward, he caught his boots in one hand and trousers in the other, and began hopping about the cabin with surprising agility, dodging or jumping over the sliding trunk and rolling bottles, and making frantic efforts, apparently, to put both legs simultaneously into one boot. surprised in the midst of this arduous task by an unexpected lurch, he made an impetuous charge upon an inoffensive washstand, stepped on an erratic bottle, fell on his head, and finally brought up a total wreck in the corner of the room. convulsed with laughter, the major could only ejaculate disconnectedly, "i tell you--it is a--curious thing how she--rolls!" "yes," rejoined bush savagely, as he rubbed one knee, "i should think it was! just get up and try it!" but the major was entirely satisfied to see bush try it, and did nothing but laugh at his misfortunes. the latter finally succeeded in getting dressed, and after some hesitation i concluded to follow his example. by dint of falling twice over the trunk, kneeling upon my heels, sitting on my elbows, and executing several other equally impracticable feats, i got my vest on inside out, both feet in the wrong boots respectively, and staggered up the companionway on deck. the wind was still blowing a gale, and we showed no canvas but one close-reefed maintopsail. great massive mounds of blue water piled themselves up in the concealment of the low-hanging rain-clouds, rushed out upon us with white foaming crests ten feet above the quarterdeck, and broke into clouds of blinding, strangling spray over the forecastle and galley, careening the ship until the bell on the quarter-deck struck and water ran in over the lee gunwale. it did not exactly correspond with my preconceived ideas of a storm, but i was obliged to confess that it had many of the characteristic features of the real phenomenon. the wind had the orthodox howl through the rigging, the sea was fully up to the prescribed standard, and the vessel pitched and rolled in a way to satisfy the most critical taste. the impression of sublimity, however, which i had anticipated, was almost entirely lost in the sense of personal discomfort. a man who has just been pitched over a skylight by one of the ship's eccentric movements, or drenched to the skin by a burst of spray, is not in a state of mind to contemplate sublimity; and after going through a varied and exhaustive course of such treatment, any romantic notions which he may previously have entertained with regard to the ocean's beauty and sublimity are pretty much knocked and drowned out of him. rough weather makes short work of poetry and sentiment. the "wet sheet" and "flowing sea" of the poet have a significance quite the reverse of poetical when one discovers the "wet sheet" in his bed and the "flowing sea" all over the cabin floor, and our experience illustrates not so much the sublimity as the unpleasantness and discomfort of a storm at sea. brig "olga," at sea, _july , _. i used often to wonder, while living in san francisco, where the chilling fogs that toward night used to drift in over lone mountain and through the golden gate came from. i have discovered the laboratory. for the past two weeks we have been sailing continually in a dense, wet, grey cloud of mist, so thick at times as almost to hide the topgallant yards, and so penetrating as to find its way even into our little after-cabin, and condense in minute drops upon our clothes. it rises, i presume, from the warm water of the great pacific gulf stream across which we are passing, and whose vapour is condensed into fog by the cold north-west winds from siberia. it is the most disagreeable feature of our voyage. our life has finally settled down into a quiet monotonous routine of eating, smoking, watching the barometer, and sleeping twelve hours a day. the gale with which we were favoured two weeks ago afforded a pleasant thrill of temporary excitement and a valuable topic of conversation; but we have all come to coincide in the opinion of the major, that it was a "curious thing," and are anxiously awaiting the turning up of something else. one cold, rainy, foggy day succeeds another, with only an occasional variation in the way of a head wind or a flurry of snow. time, of course, hangs heavily on our hands. we are waked about half-past seven in the morning by the second mate, a funny, phlegmatic dutchman, who is always shouting to us to "turn out" and see an imaginary whale, which he conjures up regularly before breakfast, and which invariably disappears before we can get on deck, as mysteriously as "moby dick." the whale, however, fails to draw after a time, and he resorts to an equally mysterious and eccentric sea-serpent, whose wonderful appearance he describes in comical broken english with the vain hope that we will crawl out into the raw foggy atmosphere to look at it. we never do. bush opens his eyes, yawns, and keeps a sleepy watch of the breakfast table, which is situated in the captain's cabin forward. i cannot see it from my berth, so i watch bush. presently we hear the humpbacked steward's footsteps on the deck above our heads, and, with a quick succession of little bumps, half a dozen boiled potatoes come rolling down the stairs of the companionway into the cabin. they are the forerunners of breakfast. bush watches the table, and i watch bush more and more intently as the steward brings in the eatables; and by the expression of bush's face, i judge whether it be worth while to get up or not. if he groans and turns over to the wall, i know that it is only hash, and i echo his groan and follow his example; but if he smiles, and gets up, i do likewise, with the full assurance of fresh mutton-chops or rice curry and chicken. after breakfast the major smokes a cigarette and looks meditatively at the barometer, the captain gets his old accordion and squeezes out the russian national hymn, while bush and i go on deck to inhale a few breaths of pure fresh fog, and chaff the second mate about his sea-serpent. in reading, playing checkers, fencing, and climbing about the rigging when the weather permits, we pass away the day, as we have already passed away twenty and must pass twenty more before we can hope to see land. at sea, near the aleutian islands. _august , _. "now would i give a thousand furlongs of sea for an acre of barren ground, ling, heath, broom, furze, anything," except this wearisome monotonous waste of water! let kamchatka be what it will, we shall welcome it with as much joy as that with which columbus first saw the flowery coast of san salvador. i am prepared to look with complacency upon a sandbar and two spears of grass, and would not even insist upon the grass if i could only be sure of the sand-bar. we have now been thirty-four days at sea without once meeting a sail or getting a glimpse of land. our chief amusement lately has been the discussion of controverted points of history and science, and wonderful is the forensic and argumentative ability which these debates have developed. they are getting to be positively interesting. the only drawback to them is, that in the absence of any decisive authority they never come to any satisfactory conclusion. we have now been discussing for sixteen days the uses of a whale's blow-holes; and i firmly believe that if our voyage were prolonged, like the flying dutchman's, to all eternity, we should never reach any solution of the problem that would satisfy all the disputants. the captain has an old dutch _history of the world_, in twenty-six folio volumes, to which he appeals as final authority in all questions under the heavens, whether pertaining to love, science, war, art, politics, or religion; and no sooner does he get cornered in a discussion than he entrenches himself behind these ponderous folios, and keeps up a hot fire of terrific dutch polysyllables until we are ready to make an unconditional surrender. if we venture to suggest a doubt as to the intimacy of the connection between a whale's blow-holes and the _history of the world_, he comes down upon us with the most withering denunciations as wrongheaded sceptics who won't even believe what is _printed_--and in a dutch history too! as the captain dispenses the pie, however, at dinner, i have found it advisable to smother my convictions as to the veracity of his teutonic historian, and join him in denouncing that pernicious heretic bush, who is wise beyond what is written. result--bush gets only one small piece of pie, and i get two, which of course is highly gratifying to my feelings, as well as advantageous to the dispersion of sound historical learning! i begin to observe at dinner an increasing reverence on bush's part for dutch histories. [illustration: snow scrapers] chapter iii the picturesque coast op kamchatka--arrival in petropavlovsk brig "olga," at sea, miles from kamchatka. _august , ._ our voyage is at last drawing to a close, and after seven long weeks of cold, rainy, rough weather our eyes are soon to be gladdened again by the sight of land, and never was it more welcome to weary mariner than it will be to us. even as i write, the sound of scraping and scrubbing is heard on deck, and proclaims our nearness to land. they are dressing the vessel to go once more into society. we were only miles from the kamchatkan seaport of petropavlovsk (pet-ro-pav'-lovsk) last night, and if this favourable breeze holds we expect to reach there to-morrow noon. it has fallen almost to a dead calm, however, this morning, so that we may be delayed until saturday. at sea, off the coast of kamchatka. _friday, august , ._ we have a fine breeze this morning; and the brig, under every stitch of canvas that will draw, is staggering through the seas enveloped in a dense fog, through which even her topgallant sails show mistily. should the wind continue and the fog be dissipated we may hope to see land tonight. a.m. i have just come down from the topgallant yard, where for the last three hours i have been clinging uncomfortably to the backstays, watching for land, and swinging back and forth through the fog in the arc of a great circle as the vessel rolled lazily to the seas. we cannot discern any object at a distance of three ships' lengths, although the sky is evidently cloudless. great numbers of gulls, boobies, puffin, fish-hawks, and solan-geese surround the ship, and the water is full of drifting medusae. noon. half an hour ago the fog began to lift, and at . the captain, who had been sweeping the horizon with a glass, shouted cheerily, "land ho! land ho! hurrah!" and the cry was echoed simultaneously from stem to stern, and from the galley to the topgallant yard. bush, mahood, and the major started at a run for the forecastle; the little humpbacked steward rushed frantically out of the galley with his hands all dough, and climbed up on the bulwarks; the sailors ran into the rigging, and only the man at the wheel retained his self-possession. away ahead, drawn in faint luminous outlines above the horizon, appeared two high conical peaks, so distant that nothing but the white snow in their deep ravines could be seen, and so faint that they could hardly be distinguished from the blue sky beyond. they were the mountains of villuchinski (vil-loo'-chin-ski) and avacha (ah-vah'-chah), on the kamchatkan coast, fully a hundred miles away. the major looked at them through a glass long and eagerly, and then waving his hand proudly toward them, turned to us, and said with a burst of patriotic enthusiasm, "you see before you my country--the great russian empire!" and then as the fog drifted down again upon the ship, he dropped suddenly from his declamatory style, and with a look of disgust exclaimed, "chort znaiet shto etta takoi [the devil only knows what it means]--it _is_ a curious thing! fog, fog, nothing but fog!" in five minutes the last vestige of "the great russian empire" had disappeared, and we went below to dinner in a state of joyful excitement, which can never be imagined by one who has not been forty-six days at sea in the north pacific. p.m. we have just been favoured with another view of the land. half an hour ago i could see from the topgallant yard, where i was posted, that the fog was beginning to break away, and in a moment it rose slowly like a huge grey curtain, unveiling the sea and the deep-blue sky, letting in a flood of rosy light from the sinking sun, and revealing a picture of wonderful beauty. before us, stretching for a hundred and fifty miles to the north and south, lay the grand coast-line of kamchatka, rising abruptly in great purple promontories out of the blue sparkling sea, flecked here with white clouds and shreds of fleecy mist, deepening in places into a soft quivering blue, and sweeping backward and upward into the pure white snow of the higher peaks. two active volcanoes, , and , feet in height, rose above the confused jagged ranges of the lower mountains, piercing the blue sky with sharp white triangles of eternal snow, and drawing the purple shadows of evening around their feet. the high bold coast did not appear, in that clear atmosphere, to be fifteen miles away, and it seemed to have risen suddenly like a beautiful mirage out of the sea. in less than five minutes the grey curtain of mist dropped slowly down again over the magnificent picture, and it faded gradually from sight, leaving us almost in doubt whether it had been a reality, or only a bright deceptive vision. we are enveloped now, as we have been nearly all day, in a thick clammy fog. harbour op petropavlovsk, kamchatka. _august , ._ at dark last night we were distant, as we supposed, about fifteen miles from cape povorotnoi (po-vo-rote'-noi) and as the fog had closed in again denser than ever, the captain dared not venture any nearer. the ship was accordingly put about, and we stood off and on all night, waiting for sunrise and a clear atmosphere, to enable us to approach the coast in safety. at five o'clock i was on deck. the fog was colder and denser than ever, and out of it rolled the white-capped waves raised by a fresh south-easterly breeze. shortly before six o'clock it began to grow light, the brig was headed for the land, and under foresail, jib, and topsails, began to forge steadily through the water. the captain, glass in hand, anxiously paced the quarterdeck, ever and anon reconnoitring the horizon, and casting a glance up to windward to see if there were any prospect of better weather. several times he was upon the point of putting the ship about, fearing to run on a lee shore in that impenetrable mist; but it finally lightened up, the fog disappeared, and the horizon line came out clear and distinct. to our utter astonishment, not a foot of land could be seen in any direction! the long range of blue mountains which had seemed the previous night to be within an hour's sail--the lofty snowy peaks--the deep gorges and the bold headlands, had all "--melted into thin air, leaving not a rack behind." there was nothing to indicate the existence of land within a thousand miles, save the number and variety of the birds that wheeled curiously around our wake, or flew away with a spattering noise from under our bows. many were the theories which were suggested to account for the sudden disappearance of the high bold land. the captain attempted to explain it by the supposition that a strong current, sweeping off shore, had during the night carried us away to the south-east. bush accused the mate of being asleep on his watch, and letting the ship run over the land, while the mate declared solemnly that he did not believe that there had been any land there at all; that it was only a mirage. the major said it was "pagánni" (abominable) and "a curious thing," but did not volunteer any solution of the problem. so there we were. we had a fine leading wind from the south-east, and were now going through the water at the rate of seven knots. eight o'clock, nine o'clock, ten o'clock, and still no appearance of land, although we had made since daylight more than thirty miles. at eleven o'clock, however, the horizon gradually darkened, and all at once a bold headland, terminating in a precipitous cliff, loomed up out of a thin mist at a distance of only four miles. all was at once excitement. the topgallant sails were clewed up to reduce the vessel's speed, and her course was changed so that we swept round in a curve broadside to the coast, about three miles distant. the mountain peaks, by which we might have ascertained our position, were hidden by the clouds and fog, and it was no easy matter to ascertain exactly where we were. away to the left, dimly defined in the mist, were two or three more high blue headlands, but what they were, and where the harbour of petropavlovsk might be, were questions that no one could answer. the captain brought his charts, compass, and drawing instruments on deck, laid them on the cabin skylight, and began taking the bearings of the different headlands, while we eagerly scanned the shore with glasses, and gave free expressions to our several opinions as to our situation. the russian chart which the captain had of the coast was fortunately a good one, and he soon determined our position, and the names of the headlands first seen. we were just north of cape povorotnoi, about nine miles south of the entrance of avacha bay. the yards were now squared, and we went off on the new tack before a steady breeze from the south-east. in less than an hour we sighted the high isolated rocks known as the "three brothers," passed a rocky precipitous island, surrounded by clouds of shrieking gulls and parrot-billed ducks, and by two o'clock were off "the heads" of avacha bay, on which is situated the village of petropavlovsk. the scenery at the entrance more than equalled our highest anticipations. green grassy valleys stretched away from openings in the rocky coast until they were lost in the distant mountains; the rounded bluffs were covered with clumps of yellow birch and thickets of dark-green chaparral; patches of flowers could be seen on the warm sheltered slopes of the hills; and as we passed close under the lighthouse bluff, bush shouted joyously, "hurrah, there's clover!" "clover!" exclaimed the captain contemptuously, "there ain't any clover in the ar'tic regions!" "how do you know, you've never been there," retorted bush caustically; "it _looks_ like clover, and"--looking through a glass--"it _is_ clover"; and his face lighted up as if the discovery of clover had relieved his mind of a great deal of anxiety as to the severity of the kamchatkan climate. it was a sort of vegetable exponent of temperature, and out of a little patch of clover, bush's imagination developed, in a style undreamt of by darwin, the whole luxuriant flora of the temperate zone. the very name of kamchatka had always been associated in our minds with everything barren and inhospitable, and we did not entertain for a moment the thought that such a country could afford beautiful scenery and luxuriant vegetation. in fact, with us all it was a mooted question whether anything more than mosses, lichens, and perhaps a little grass maintained the unequal struggle for existence in that frozen clime. it may be imagined with what delight and surprise we looked upon green hills covered with trees and verdant thickets; upon valleys white with clover and diversified with little groves of silver-barked birch, and even the rocks nodding with wild roses and columbine, which had taken root in their clefts as if nature strove to hide with a garment of flowers the evidences of past convulsions. just before three o'clock we came in sight of the village of petropavlovsk--a little cluster of red-roofed and bark-thatched log houses; a greek church of curious architecture, with a green dome; a strip of beach, a half-ruined wharf, two whale-boats, and the dismantled wreck of a half-sunken vessel. high green hills swept in a great semicircle of foliage around the little village, and almost shut in the quiet pond-like harbour--an inlet of avacha bay--on which it was situated. under foresail and maintopsail we glided silently under the shadow of the encircling hills into this landlocked mill-pond, and within a stone's throw of the nearest house the sails were suddenly clewed up, and with a quivering of the ship and a rattle of chain cable our anchor dropped into the soil of asia. [illustration: boy's boots of sealskin] chapter iv things russian in kamchatka--a verdant and flowery land--the village of two saints. it has been well observed by irving, that to one about to visit foreign countries a long sea voyage is an excellent preparative. to quote his words, "the temporary absence of worldly scenes and employments produces a state of mind peculiarly fitted to receive new and vivid impressions." and he might have added with equal truth--favourable impressions. the tiresome monotony of sea life predisposes the traveller to regard favourably anything that will quicken his stagnating faculties and perceptions and furnish new matter for thought; and the most commonplace scenery and circumstances afford him gratification and delight. for this reason one is apt, upon arriving after a long voyage in a strange country, to form a more favourable opinion of its people and scenery than his subsequent experience will sustain. but it seems to me particularly fortunate that our first impressions of a new country, which are most clear and vivid and therefore most lasting, are also most pleasant, so that in future years a retrospective glance over our past wanderings will show the most cheerful pictures drawn in the brightest and most enduring colours. i am sure that the recollection of my first view of the mountains of kamchatka, the delight with which my eye drank in their bright aërial tints, and the romance with which my ardent fancy invested them, will long outlive the memory of the hardships i have endured among them, the snow-storms that have pelted me on their summits, and the rains that have drenched me in their valleys. fanciful perhaps, but i believe true. the longing for land which one feels after having been five or six weeks at sea is sometimes so strong as to be almost a passion. i verily believe that if the first land we saw had been one of those immense barren moss steppes which i afterward came to hold in such detestation, i should have regarded it as nothing less than the original site of the garden of eden. not all the charms which nature has lavished upon the vale of tempe could have given me more pleasure than did the little green valley in which nestled the red-roofed and bark-covered log houses of petropavlovsk. the arrival of a ship in that remote and unfrequented part of the world is an event of no little importance; and the rattling of our chain cable through the hawse-holes created a very perceptible sensation in the quiet village. little children ran bareheaded out of doors, looked at us for a moment, and then ran hastily back to call the rest of the household; dark-haired natives and russian peasants, in blue shirts and leather trousers, gathered in a group at the landing; and seventy-five or a hundred half-wild dogs broke out suddenly into a terrific chorus of howls in honour of our arrival. it was already late in the afternoon, but we could not restrain our impatience to step once more upon dry land; and as soon as the captain's boat could be lowered, bush, mahood, and i went ashore to look at the town. [illustration] petropavlovsk is laid out in a style that is very irregular, without being at all picturesque. the idea of a street never seems to have suggested itself either to the original settlers or to their descendants; and the paths, such as they are, wander around aimlessly among the scattered houses, like erratic sheepwalks. it is impossible to go for a hundred yards in a straight line, in any direction, without either bringing up against the side of a house or trespassing upon somebody's backyard; and in the night one falls over a slumbering cow, upon a fair average, once every fifty feet. in other respects it is rather a pretty village, surrounded as it is by high green hills, and affording a fine view of the beautiful snowy peak of avacha, which rises to a height of , feet directly behind the town. mr. fluger, a german merchant of petropavlovsk who had boarded us in a small boat outside the harbour, now constituted himself our guide; and after a short walk around the village, invited us to his house, where we sat in a cloud of fragrant cigar-smoke, talking over american war news, and the latest _on dit_ of kamchatkan society, until it finally began to grow dark. i noticed, among other books lying upon mr. fluger's table, _life thoughts_, by beecher, and _the schönberg-cotta family,_ and wondered that the latter had already found its way to the distant shores of kamchatka. as new-comers, it was our first duty to pay our respects to the russian authorities; and, accompanied by mr. fluger and mr. bollman, we called upon captain sutkovoi (soot-ko-voi'), the resident "captain of the port." his house, with its bright-red tin roof, was almost hidden by a large grove of thrifty oaks, through which tumbled, in a succession of little cascades, a clear, cold mountain stream. we entered the gate, walked up a broad travelled path under the shade of the interlocking branches, and, without knocking, entered the house. captain sutkovoi welcomed us cordially, and notwithstanding our inability to speak any language but our own, soon made us feel quite at home. conversation however languished, as every remark had to be translated through two languages before it could be understood by the person to whom it was addressed; and brilliant as it might have been in the first place, it lost its freshness in being passed around through russian, german, and english to us. i was surprised to see so many evidences of cultivated and refined taste in this remote corner of the world, where i had expected barely the absolute necessaries of life, or at best a few of the most common comforts. a large piano of russian manufacture occupied one corner of the room, and a choice assortment of russian, german, and american music testified to the musical taste of its owner. a few choice paintings and lithographs adorned the walls, and on the centre-table rested a stereoscope with a large collection of photographic views, and an unfinished game of chess, from which captain and madame sutkovoi had risen at our entrance. after a pleasant visit of an hour we took our leave, receiving an invitation to dinner on the following day. it was not yet decided whether we should continue our voyage to the amur river, or remain in petropavlovsk and begin our northern journey from there, so we still regarded the brig as our home and returned, every night to our little cabin. the first night in port was strangely calm, peaceful, and quiet, accustomed as we had become to the rolling, pitching, and creaking of the vessel, the swash of water, and the whistling of the wind. there was not a zephyr abroad, and the surface of the miniature bay lay like a dark mirror, in which were obscurely reflected the high hills which formed its setting. a few scattered lights from the village threw long streams of radiance across the dark water, and from the black hillside on our right was heard at intervals the faint lonely tinkle of a cow-bell or the long melancholy howl of a wolf-like dog. i tried hard to sleep; but the novelty of our surroundings, the thought that we were now in asia, and hundreds of conjectures and forecastings as to our future prospects and adventures, put sleep for a long time at defiance. the hamlet of petropavlovsk, which, although not the largest, is one of the most important settlements in the kamchatkan peninsula, has a population of perhaps two or three hundred natives and russian peasants, together with a few german and american merchants, drawn thither by the trade in sables. it is not fairly a representative kamchatkan village, for it has felt in no inconsiderable degree the civilising influences of foreign intercourse, and shows in its manners and modes of life and thought some evidences of modern enterprise and enlightenment. it has existed since the early part of the eighteenth century, and is old enough to have acquired some civilisation of its own; but age in a siberian settlement is no criterion of development, and petropavlovsk either has not attained the enlightenment of maturity, or has passed into its second childhood, for it is still in a benighted condition. why it was and is called petropavlovsk--the village of st. peter and st. paul--i failed, after diligent inquiry, to learn. the sacred canon does not contain any epistle to the kamchatkans, much as they need it, nor is there any other evidence to show that the ground on which the village stands was ever visited by either of the eminent saints whose names it bears. the conclusion to which we are driven therefore is, that its inhabitants, not being distinguished for apostolic virtues, and feeling their need of saintly intercession, called the settlement after st. peter and st. paul, with the hope that those apostles would feel a sort of proprietary interest in the place, and secure its final salvation without any unnecessary inquiries into its merits. whether that was the idea of its original founders or not i cannot say; but such a plan would be eminently adapted to the state of society, in most of the siberian settlements, where faith is strong, but where works are few in number and questionable in tendency. the sights of petropavlovsk, speaking after the manner of tourists, are few and uninteresting. it has two monuments erected to the memory of the distinguished navigators bering and la perouse, and there are traces on its hills of the fortifications built during the crimean war to repel the attack of the allied french and english squadrons; but aside from these, the town can boast of no objects or places of historical interest. to us, however, who had been shut up nearly two months in a close dark cabin, the village was attractive enough of itself, and early on the following morning we went ashore for a ramble on the wooded peninsula which separates the small harbour from avacha bay. the sky was cloudless, but a dense fog drifted low over the hilltops and veiled the surrounding mountains from sight. the whole landscape was green as emerald and dripping with moisture, but the sunshine struggled occasionally through the grey cloud of vapour, and patches of light swept swiftly across the wet hillsides, like sunny smiles upon a tearful face. the ground everywhere was covered with flowers. marsh violets, dotted the grass here and there with blue; columbine swung its purple spurred corollas over the grey mossy rocks; and wild roses appeared everywhere in dense thickets, with their delicate pink petals strewn over the ground beneath them like a coloured shadow. climbing up the slope of the steep hill between the harbour and the bay, shaking down little showers of water from every bush, we touched, and treading under foot hundreds of dewy flowers, we came suddenly upon the monument of la perouse. i hope his countrymen, the french, have erected to his memory some more tasteful and enduring token of their esteem than this. it is simply a wooden frame, covered with sheet iron, and painted black. it bears no date or inscription whatever, and looks more like the tombstone over the grave of a criminal, than a monument to keep fresh the memory of a distinguished navigator. bush sat down on a little grassy knoll to make a sketch of the scene, while mahood and i wandered on up the hill toward the old russian batteries. they are several in number, situated along the crest of the ridge which divides the inner from the outer bay, and command the approaches to the town from the west. they are now almost overgrown with grass and flowers, and only the form of the embrasures distinguishes them from shapeless mounds of earth. it would be thought that the remote situation and inhospitable climate of kamchatka would have secured to its inhabitants an immunity from the desolating ravages of war. but even this country has its ruined forts and grass-grown battle-fields; and its now silent hills echoed not long ago to the thunder of opposing cannon. leaving mahood to make a critical survey of the entrenchments--an occupation which his tastes and pursuits rendered more interesting to him than to me--i strolled on up the hill to the edge of the cliff from which the storming party of the allies was thrown by the russian gunners. no traces now remain of the bloody struggle which took place upon the brink of this precipice. moss covers with its green carpet the ground which was torn up in the death grapple; and the nodding bluebell, as it bends to the fresh sea-breeze, tells no story of the last desperate rally, the hand to hand conflict, and the shrieks of the overpowered as they were thrown from the russian bayonets upon the rocky beach a hundred feet below. it seems to me that it was little better than wanton cruelty in the allies to attack this unimportant and isolated post, so far from the real centre of conflict. could its capture have lessened in any way the power or resources of the russian government, or, by creating a diversion, have attracted attention from the decisive struggle in the crimea, it would perhaps have been justifiable; but it could not possibly have any direct or indirect influence upon the ultimate result, and only brought misery upon a few inoffensive kamchadals who had never heard of turkey or the eastern question and whose first intimation of a war probably was the thunder of the enemy's cannon and the bursting of shells at their very doors. the attack of the allied fleet, however, was signally repulsed, and its admiral, stung with mortification at being foiled by a mere handful of cossacks and peasants, committed suicide. on the anniversary of the battle it is still customary for all the inhabitants, headed by the priests, to march in solemn procession round the village and over the hill from which the storming party was thrown, chanting hymns of joy and praise for the victory. after botanising a while upon the battle-field, i was joined by bush, who had completed his sketch, and we all returned, tired and wet, to the village. our appearance anywhere on shore always created a sensation among the inhabitants. the russian and native peasants whom we met removed their caps, and held them respectfully in their hands while we passed; the windows of the houses were crowded with heads intent upon getting a sight of the "amerikanski chinóvniki" (american officers); and even the dogs broke into furious barks and howls at our approach. bush declared that he could not remember a time in his history when he had been of so much consequence and attracted such general attention as now; and he attributed it all to the discrimination and intelligence of kamchatkan society. prompt and instinctive recognition of superior genius he affirmed to be a characteristic of that people, and he expressed deep regret that it was not equally so of some other people whom he could mention. "no reference to an allusion intended!" chapter v first attempt to learn russian--plan of exploration--division op party one of the first things which the traveller notices in any foreign country is the language, and it is especially noticeable in kamchatka, siberia, or any part of the great russian empire. what the ancestors of the russians did at the tower of babel to have been afflicted with such a complicated, contorted, mixed up, utterly incomprehensible language, i can hardly conjecture. i have thought sometimes that they must have built their side of the tower higher than any of the other tribes, and have been punished for their sinful industry with this jargon of unintelligible sounds, which no man could possibly hope to understand before he became so old and infirm that he could never work on another tower. however they came by it, it is certainly a thorn in the flesh to all travellers in the russian empire. some weeks before we reached kamchatka i determined to learn, if possible, a few common expressions, which would be most useful in our first intercourse with the natives, and among them the simple declarative sentence, "i want something to eat." i thought that this would probably be the first remark that i should have to make to any of the inhabitants, and i determined to learn it so thoroughly that i should never be in danger of starvation from ignorance. i accordingly asked the major one day what the equivalent expression was in russian. he coolly replied that whenever i wanted anything to eat, all that i had to do was to say, "vashavwesokeeblagarodiaeeveeleekeeprevoskhodeetelstvoeetakdalshai." i believe i never felt such a sentiment of reverential admiration for the acquired talents of any man as i did for those of the major when i heard him pronounce, fluently and gracefully, this extraordinary sentence. my mind was hopelessly lost in attempting to imagine the number of years of patient toil which must have preceded his first request for food, and i contemplated with astonishment the indefatigable perseverance which has borne him triumphant through the acquirement of such a language. if the simple request for something to eat presented such apparently insurmountable obstacles to pronunciation, what must the language be in its dealings with the more abstruse questions of theological and metaphysical science? imagination stood aghast at the thought. i frankly told the major that he might print out this terrible sentence on a big placard and hang it around my neck; but as for learning to pronounce it, i could not, and did not propose to try. i found out afterwards that he had taken advantage of my inexperience and confiding disposition by giving me some of the longest and worst words in his barbarous language, and pretending that they meant something to eat. the real translation in russian would have been bad enough, and it was wholly unnecessary to select peculiarly hard words. the russian language is, i believe, without exception, the most difficult of all modern languages to learn. its difficulty does not lie, as might be supposed, in pronunciation. its words are all spelled phonetically, and have only a few sounds which are foreign to english; but its grammar is exceptionally involved and intricate. it has seven cases and three genders; and as the latter are dependent upon no definite principle whatever, but are purely arbitrary, it is almost impossible for a foreigner to learn them so as to give nouns and adjectives their proper terminations. its vocabulary is very copious; and its idioms have a peculiarly racy individuality which can hardly be appreciated without a thorough acquaintance with the colloquial talk of the russian peasants. the russian, like all the indo-european languages, is closely related to the ancient sanscrit, and seems to have preserved unchanged, in a greater degree than any of the others, the old vedic words. the first ten numerals, as spoken by a hindoo a thousand years before the christian era, would, with one or two exceptions, be understood by a modern russian peasant. during our stay in petropavlovsk we succeeded in learning the russian for "yes," "no," and "how do you do?" and we congratulated ourselves not a little upon even this slight progress in a language of such peculiar difficulty. our reception at petropavlovsk by both russians and americans was most cordial and enthusiastic, and the first three or four days after our arrival were spent in one continuous round of visits and dinners. on thursday we made an excursion on horseback to a little village called avacha, ten or fifteen versts distant across the bay, and came back charmed with the scenery, climate, and vegetation of this beautiful peninsula. the road wound around the slopes of grassy, wooded hills, above the clear blue water of the bay, commanding a view of the bold purple promontories which formed the gateway to the sea, and revealing now and then, between the clumps of silver birch, glimpses of long ranges of picturesque snow-covered mountains, stretching away along the western coast to the white solitary peak of villúchinski, thirty or forty miles distant. the vegetation everywhere was almost tropical in its rank luxuriance. we could pick handfuls of flowers almost without bending from our saddles, and the long wild grass through which we rode would in many places sweep our waists. delighted to find the climate of italy where we had anticipated the biting air of labrador, and inspirited by the beautiful scenery, we woke the echoes of the hills with american songs, shouted, halloed, and ran races on our little cossack ponies until the setting sun warned us that it was time to return. upon the information which he obtained in petropavlovsk, major abaza formed a plan of operations for the ensuing winter, which was briefly as follows: mahood and bush were to go on in the _olga_ to nikolaievsk at the mouth of the amur river, on the chinese frontier, and, making that settlement their base of supplies, were to explore the rough mountainous region lying west of the okhotsk sea and south of the russian seaport of okhotsk. the major and i, in the meantime, were to travel northward with a party of natives through the peninsula of kamchatka, and strike the proposed route of the line about midway between okhotsk and bering strait. dividing again here, one of us would go westward to meet mahood and bush at okhotsk, and one northward to a russian trading station called anadyrsk (ah-nah'-dyrsk), about four hundred miles west of the strait. in this way we should cover the whole ground to be traversed by our line, with the exception of the barren desolate region between anadyrsk and bering strait, which our chief proposed to leave for the present unexplored. taking into consideration our circumstances and the smallness of our force, this plan was probably the best which could be devised, but it made it necessary for the major and me to travel throughout the whole winter without a single companion except our native teamsters. as i did not speak russian, it would be next to impossible for me to do this without an interpreter, and the major engaged in that capacity a young american fur-trader, named dodd, who had been living seven years in petropavlovsk, and who was familiar with the russian language and the habits and customs of the natives. with this addition our whole force numbered five men, and was to be divided into three parties; one for the western coast of the okhotsk sea, one for the northern coast, and one for the country between the sea and the arctic circle. all minor details, such as means of transportation and subsistence, were left to the discretion of the several parties. we were to live on the country, travel with the natives, and avail ourselves of any and every means of transportation and subsistence which the country afforded. it was no pleasure excursion upon which we were about to enter. the russian authorities at petropavlovsk gave us all the information and assistance in their power, but did not hesitate to express the opinion that five men would never succeed in exploring the eighteen hundred miles of barren, almost uninhabited country between the amur river and bering strait. it was not probable, they said, that the major could get through the peninsula of kamchatka at all that fall as he anticipated, but that if he did, he certainly could not penetrate the great desolate steppes to the northward, which were inhabited only by wandering tribes of chukchis (chook'-chees) and koraks. the major replied simply that he would show them what we could do, and went on with his preparations. on saturday morning, august th, the _olga_ sailed with mahood and bush for the amur river, leaving the major, dodd, and me at petropavlovsk, to make our way northward through kamchatka. as the morning was clear and sunny, i engaged a boat and a native crew, and accompanied bush and mahood out to sea. as we began to feel the fresh morning land-breeze, and to draw out slowly from under the cliffs of the western coast, i drank a farewell glass of wine to the success of the "amur river exploring party," shook hands with the captain and complimented his dutch _history_, and bade good-bye to the mates and men. as i went over the side, the second mate seemed overcome with emotion at the thought of the perils which i was about to encounter in that heathen country, and cried out in funny, broken english, "oh, mr. kinney! [he could not say kennan] who's a g'un to cook for ye, and ye can't get no potatusses?" as if the absence of a cook and the lack of potatoes were the summing up of all earthly privations. i assured him cheerfully that we could cook for ourselves and eat roots; but he shook his head, mournfully, as if he saw in prophetic vision the state of misery to which siberian roots and our own cooking must inevitably reduce us. bush told me afterward that on the voyage to the amur he frequently observed the second mate in deep and melancholy reverie, and upon approaching him and asking him what he was thinking about, he answered, with a mournful shake of the head and an indescribable emphasis: "poor mr. kinney! _poor_ mr. kinney!" notwithstanding the scepticism with which i treated his sea-serpent, he gave me a place in his rough affections, second only to "tommy," his favourite cat, and the pigs. as the _olga_ sheeted home her topgallant sails, changed her course more to the eastward, and swept slowly out between the heads, i caught a last glimpse of bush, standing on the quarter-deck by the wheel, and telegraphing some unintelligible words in the morse alphabet with his arm. i waved my hat in response, and turning shoreward, with a lump in my throat, ordered the men to give way. the _olga_ was gone, and the last tie which connected us with the civilised world seemed severed. [illustration: bone knife or scraper] chapter vi a cossack wedding--the peninsula op kamchatka our time in petropavlovsk, after the departure of the _olga_, was almost wholly occupied in making preparations for our northern journey through the kamchatkan peninsula. on tuesday, however, dodd told me that there was to be a wedding at the church, and invited me to go over and witness the ceremony. it took place in the body of the church, immediately after some sort of morning service, which had nearly closed when we entered. i had no difficulty in singling out the happy individuals whose fortunes were to be united in the holy bonds of matrimony. they betrayed their own secret by their assumed indifference and unconsciousness. the unlucky (lucky?) man was a young, round-headed cossack about twenty years of age, dressed in a dark frock-coat trimmed with scarlet and gathered like a lady's dress above the waist, which, with a reckless disregard for his anatomy, was assumed to be six inches below his armpits. in honour of the extraordinary occasion he had donned a great white standing collar which projected above his ears, as the mate of the _olga_ would say, "like fore to'gallant studd'n' s'ls." owing to a deplorable lack of understanding between his cotton trousers and his shoes they failed to meet by about six inches, and no provision had been made for the deficiency. the bride was comparatively an old woman--at least twenty years the young man's senior, and a _widow_. i thought with a sigh of the elder mr. weller's parting injunction to his son, "bevare o' the vidders," and wondered what the old gentleman would say could he see this unconscious "wictim" walking up to the altar "and thinkin' in his 'art that it was all wery capital." the bride wore a dress of that peculiar sort of calico known as "furniture prints," without trimming or ornaments of any kind. whether it was cut "bias" or with "gores," i'm sorry to say i do not know, dress-making being as much of an occult science to me as divination. her hair was tightly bound up in a scarlet silk handkerchief, fastened in front with a little gilt button. as soon as the church service was concluded the altar was removed to the middle of the room, and the priest, donning a black silk gown which contrasted strangely with his heavy cowhide boots, summoned the couple before him. after giving to each three lighted candles tied together with blue ribbon, he began to read in a loud sonorous voice what i supposed to be the marriage service, paying no attention whatever to stops, but catching his breath audibly in the midst of a sentence and hurrying on again with tenfold rapidity. the candidates for matrimony were silent, but the deacon, who was looking abstractedly out of a window on the opposite side of the church, interrupted him occasionally with doleful chanted responses. at the conclusion of the reading they all crossed themselves devoutly half a dozen times in succession, and after asking them the decisive question the priest gave them each a silver ring. then came more reading, at the end of which he administered to them a teaspoonful of wine out of a cup. reading and chanting were again resumed and continued for a long time, the bridegroom and bride crossing and prostrating themselves continually, and the deacon closing up his responses by repeating with the most astounding rapidity, fifteen times in five seconds, the words "gáspodi pomilui" (goss'-po-dee-po-mee'-loo-ee), "god have mercy upon us." he then brought in two large gilt crowns ornamented with medallions, and, blowing off the dust which had accumulated upon them since the last wedding, he placed them upon the heads of the bridegroom and bride. the young cossack's crown was altogether too large, and slipped down over his head like a candle-extinguisher until it rested upon his ears, eclipsing his eyes entirely. the bride's hair--or rather the peculiar manner in which it was "done up"--precluded the possibility of making a crown stay on her head, and an individual from among the spectators was detailed to hold it there. the priest then made the couple join hands, seized the groom's hand himself, and they all began a hurried march around the altar--the priest first, dragging along the cossack, who, blinded by the crown, was continually stepping on his leader's heels; the bride following the groom, and trying to keep the crown from pulling her hair down; and lastly, the supernumerary stepping on the bride's dress and holding the gilt emblem of royalty in its place. the whole performance was so indescribably ludicrous that i could not possibly keep my countenance in that sober frame which befitted the solemnity of the occasion, and nearly scandalised the whole assembly by laughing out loud. three times they marched in this way around the altar, and the ceremony was then ended. the bride and groom kissed the crowns reverently as they took them off, walked around the church, crossing themselves and bowing in succession before each of the pictures of saints which hung against the wall, and at last turned to receive the congratulations of their friends. it was expected of course that the "distinguished americans," of whose intelligence, politeness, and suavity so much had been heard would congratulate the bride upon this auspicious occasion; but at least one distinguished but unfortunate american did not know how to do it. my acquirements in russian were limited to "yes," "no," and "how do you do?" and none of these expressions seemed fully to meet the emergency. desirous, however, of sustaining the national reputation for politeness, as well as of showing my good-will to the bride, i selected the last of the phrases as probably the most appropriate, and walking solemnly, and i fear awkwardly, up i asked the bride with a very low bow, and in very bad russian--how she did; she graciously replied, "cherasvwechiano khorasho pakornashae vass blagadoroo," and the distinguished american retired with a proud consciousness of having done his duty. i was not very much enlightened as to the state of the bride's health; but, judging from the facility with which she rattled off this tremendous sentence, we concluded that she must be well. nothing but a robust constitution and the most excellent health would have enabled her to do it. convulsed with laughter, dodd and i made our escape from the church and returned to our quarters. i have since been informed by the major that the marriage ceremony of the greek church, when properly performed, has a peculiar impressiveness and solemnity; but i shall never be able to see it now without having my solemnity overcome by the recollection of that poor cossack, stumbling around the altar after the priest with his head extinguished in a crown! from the moment when the major decided upon the overland journey through kamchatka, he devoted all his time and energies to the work of preparation. boxes covered with sealskin, and intended to be hung from pack-saddles, were prepared for the transportation of our stores; tents, bearskins, and camp equipage were bought and packed away in ingeniously contrived bundles; and everything that native experience could suggest for lessening the hardships of outdoor life was provided in quantities sufficient for two months' journey. horses were then ordered from all the adjacent villages, and a special courier was sent throughout the peninsula by the route that we intended to follow, with orders to apprise the natives everywhere of our coming, and to direct them to remain at home with all their horses until after our party should pass. thus prepared, we set out on the th of september for the far north. the peninsula of kamchatka, through which we were about to travel, is a long irregular tongue of land lying east of the okhotsk sea, between the fifty-first and sixty-second degrees of north latitude, and measuring in extreme length about seven hundred miles. it is almost entirely of volcanic formation, and the great range of rugged mountains by which it is longitudinally divided comprises even now five or six volcanoes in a state of almost uninterrupted activity. this immense chain of mountains, which has never even been named, stretches from the fifty-first to the sixtieth degree of latitude in one almost continuous ridge, and at last breaks off abruptly into the okhotsk sea, leaving to the northward a high level steppe called the "dole" or desert, which is the wandering ground of the reindeer koraks. the central and southern parts of the peninsula are broken up by the spurs and foot-hills of the great mountain range into deep sequestered valleys of the wildest and most picturesque character, and afford scenery which, for majestic and varied beauty, is not surpassed in all northern asia. the climate everywhere, except in the extreme north, is comparatively mild and equable, and the vegetation has an almost tropical freshness and luxuriance totally at variance with all one's ideas of kamchatka. the population of the peninsula i estimate from careful observation at about , and it is made up of three distinct classes--the russians, the kamchadals or settled natives, and the wandering koraks. the kamchadals, who compose the most numerous class, are settled in little log villages throughout the peninsula, near the mouths of small rivers which rise in the central range of mountains and fall into the okhotsk sea or the pacific. their principal occupations are fishing, fur-trapping, and the cultivation of rye, turnips, cabbages, and potatoes, which grow thriftily as far north as lat. °. their largest settlements are in the fertile valley of the kamchatka river, between petropavlovsk and kluchei (kloo-chay'). the russians, who are comparatively few in number, are scattered here and there among the kamchadal villages, and are generally engaged in trading for furs with the kamchadals and the nomadic tribes to the northward. the wandering koraks, who are the wildest, most powerful, and most independent natives in the peninsula, seldom come south of the th parallel of latitude, except for the purpose of trade. their chosen haunts are the great desolate steppes lying east of penzhinsk (pen'-zhinsk) gulf, where they wander constantly from place to place in solitary bands, living in large fur tents and depending for subsistence upon their vast herds of tamed and domesticated reindeer. the government under which all the inhabitants of kamchatka nominally live is administered by a russian officer called an "ispravnik" (is-prav'-nik) or local governor [footnote: strictly, a chief of district police.] who is supposed to settle all questions of law which may arise between individuals or tribes, and to collect the annual "yassák" or tax of furs, which is levied upon every male inhabitant in his province. he resides in petropavlovsk, and owing to the extent of country over which he has jurisdiction, and the imperfect facilities which it affords for getting about, he is seldom seen outside of the village where he has his headquarters. the only means of transportation between the widely separated settlements of the kamchadals are packhorses, canoes, and dog-sledges, and there is not such a thing as a road in the whole peninsula. i may have occasion hereafter to speak of "roads," but i mean by the word nothing more than the geometrician means by a "line"--simple longitudinal extension without any of the sensible qualities which are popularly associated with it. [illustration: a tent of the wandering koraks in summer] through this wild, sparsely populated region, we purposed to travel by hiring the natives along our route to carry us with their horses from one settlement to another until we should reach the territory of the wandering koraks. north of that point we could not depend upon any regular means of transportation, but would be obliged to trust to luck and the tender mercies of the arctic nomads. [illustration: reindeer bridle and snow shovel.] chapter vii starting northward--kamchatkan scenery, villages, and people i cannot remember any journey in my whole life which gave me more enjoyment at the time, or which is more pleasant in recollection, than our first horseback ride of versts over the flowery hills and through the green valleys of southern kamchatka. surrounded as we continually were by the wildest and most beautiful scenery in all northern asia, experiencing for the first time the novelty and adventurous excitement of camp life, and rejoicing in a newly found sense of freedom and perfect independence, we turned our backs gaily on civilisation, and rode away with light hearts into the wilderness, making the hills ring to the music of our songs and halloos. our party, aside from drivers and guides, consisted of four men--major abaza, chief of asiatic exploration, dodd the young american, whom we had engaged in petropavlovsk, viushin (view'-shin) a cossack orderly, and myself. the biting sarcasm directed by mithridates at the army of lucullus--that if they came as ambassadors they were too many, if as soldiers too few--would have applied with equal force to our small party made up as it was of only four men; but strength is not always to be measured by numbers, and we had no fears that we should not be able to cope with any obstacles which might lie in our way. we could certainly find subsistence where a larger party might starve. on sunday, september d, our horses were loaded and despatched in advance to a small village on the opposite side of the bay, where we intended to meet them with a whale-boat. on monday the th, we made our farewell calls upon the russian authorities, drank an inordinate quantity of champagne to our own health and success, and set out in two whale-boats for avacha, accompanied by the whole american population of petropavlovsk. crossing the bay under spritsail and jib, with a slashing breeze from the south-west, we ran swiftly into the mouth of the avacha river, and landed at the village to refresh ourselves for the fifteenth time with "fifteen drops," and take leave of our american friends, pierce, hunter, and fronefield. copious libations were poured out to the tutelary saint of kamchatkan explorers, and giving and receiving three hearty cheers we pushed off and began to make our way slowly up the river with poles and paddles toward the kamchadal settlement of okuta (o-koo'-tah). our native crew, sharing in the universal dissipation which had attended our departure, and wholly unaccustomed to such reckless drinking, were reduced by this time to a comical state of happy imbecility, in which they sang kamchadal songs, blessed the americans, and fell overboard alternately, without contributing in any marked degree to the successful navigation of our heavy whale-boat. viushin, however, with characteristic energy, hauled the drowning wretches in by their hair, rapped them over the head with a paddle to restore consciousness, pushed the boat off sand-bars, kept its head up stream, poled, rowed, jumped into the water, shouted, swore, and proved himself fully equal to any emergency. it was considerably after noon when we left petropavlovsk, and owing to the incompetency of our kamchadal crew, and the frequency of sand-bars, night overtook us on the river some distance below okuta. selecting a place where the bank was dry and accessible, we beached our whale-boat and prepared for our first bivouac in the open air. beating down the high wet grass, viushin pitched our little cotton tent, carpeted it with warm, dry bearskins, improvised a table and a cloth out of an empty candle-box and a clean towel, built a fire, boiled tea, and in twenty minutes set before us a hot supper which would not have done discredit to the culinary skill of soyer himself. after supper we sat by the fire smoking and talking until the long twilight died away in the west, and then, rolling ourselves up in heavy blankets, we lay down on our bearskins and listened to the low quacking of a half-awakened duck in the sedges, and the lonely cries of night birds on the river until at last we fell asleep. day was just breaking in the east when i awoke. the mist, which for a week had hung in grey clouds around the mountains, had now vanished, and the first object which met my eyes through the open door of the tent was the great white cone of villuchinski gleaming spectrally through the greyness of the dawn. as the red flush in the east deepened, all nature seemed to awake. ducks and geese quacked from every bunch of reeds along the shore; the strange wailing cries of sea-gulls could be heard from the neighbouring coast; and from the clear, blue sky came down the melodious trumpeting of wild swans, as they flew inland to their feeding-places. i washed my face in the clear, cold water of the river, and waked dodd to see the mountains. directly behind our tent, in one unbroken sheet of snow, rose the colossal peak of korátskoi (ko-rat'-skoi), ten thousand five hundred feet in height, its sharp white summit already crimsoning with the rays of the rising sun, while the morning star yet throbbed faintly over the cool purple of its eastern slope. a little to the right was the huge volcano of avacha, with a long banner of golden smoke hung out from its broken summit, and the raselskoi (rah'-sel-skoi) volcano puffing out dark vapour from three craters. far down the coast, thirty miles away, stood the sharp peak of villúchinski, with the watch-fires of morning already burning upon its summit, and beyond it the hazy blue outlines of the coast range. shreds of fleecy mist here and there floated up the mountain sides, and vanished like the spirits of the night dews rising from earth to heaven in bright resurrection. steadily the warm, rosy flush of sunrise crept down the snowy slopes of the mountains, until at last, with a quick sudden burst, it poured a flood of light into the valley, tinging our little white tent with a delicate pink, like that of a wild-rose petal, turning every pendent dewdrop into a twinkling brilliant, and lighting up the still water of the river, until it became a quivering, flashing mass of liquid silver. "i'm not romantic, but, upon my word, there are some moments when one can't help feeling as if his heart's chords were so strongly stirred by things around him, that 'tis vain concealing a little music in his soul still lingers, whene'er the keys are touched by nature's fingers." i was just delivering the above quotation in impassioned style, when dodd, who never allowed his enthusiasm for the beauties of nature to interfere with a proper regard for the welfare of his stomach, emerged from the tent, and, with a mock solemn apology for interrupting my soliloquy, said that if i could bring my mind down to the contemplation of material things he would inform me that breakfast was ready, and begged to suggest that the little music in my soul be allowed to "linger," since it could do so with less detriment than the said breakfast. the force of this suggestion, seconded as it was by a savoury odour from the interior of the tent, could not be denied. i went, but still continued between the spoonfuls of hot soup to "rave," as dodd expressed it, about the scenery. after breakfast the tent was struck, camp equipage packed up, and taking seats in the stern-sheets of our whale-boat we pushed off and resumed our slow ascent of the river. the vegetation everywhere, untouched as yet by the autumn frosts, seemed to have an almost tropical luxuriance. high wild grass, mingled with varicoloured flowers, extended to the very river's brink; alpine roses and cinquefoil grew in dense thickets along the bank, and dropped their pink and yellow petals like fairy boats upon the surface of the clear still water; yellow columbine drooped low over the river, to see its graceful image mirrored beside that of the majestic volcano; and strange black kamchatkan lilies, with downcast looks, stood here and there in sad loneliness, mourning in funeral garb some unknown flowery bereavement. nor was animal life wanting to complete the picture. wild ducks, with long outstretched necks, shot past us, continually in their swift level flight, uttering hoarse quacks of curiosity and apprehension; the honking of geese came to us, softened by distance, from the higher slopes of the mountains; and now and then a magnificent eagle, startled from his solitary watch on some jutting rock, expanded his broad-barred wings, launched himself into air, and soared upward in ever-widening circles until he became a mere moving speck against the white snowy crater of the avachinski volcano. never had i seen a picture of such wild primitive loneliness as that presented by this beautiful fertile valley, encircled by smoking volcanoes and snow-covered mountains, yet green as the vale of tempe, teeming with animal and vegetable life, yet solitary, uninhabited by man, and apparently unknown. about noon the barking of dogs announced our approach to a settlement, and turning an abrupt bend in the river we came in sight of the kamchadal village of okuta (o-koo'-tah). a kamchadal village differs in some respects so widely from an american frontier settlement, that it is worthy, perhaps, of a brief description. it is situated generally on a little elevation near the bank of some river or stream, surrounded by scattered clumps of poplar and yellow birch, and protected by high hills from the cold northern winds. its houses, which are clustered irregularly together near the beach, are very low, and are made of logs squared and notched at the ends, and chinked with masses of dry moss. the roofs are covered with a rough thatch of long coarse grass or with overlapping strips of tamarack bark, and project at the ends and sides into wide overhanging eaves. the window-frames, although occasionally glazed, are more frequently covered with an irregular patchwork of translucent fish bladders, sewn together with thread made of the dried and pounded sinews of the reindeer. the doors are almost square, and the chimneys are nothing but long straight poles, arranged in a circle and plastered over thickly with clay. here and there between the houses stand half a dozen curious architectural quadrupeds called "balagáns" (bah-lah-gans'), or fish storehouses. they are simply conical log tents, elevated from the ground on four posts to secure their contents from the dogs, and resemble as much as anything small haystacks trying to walk away on four legs. high square frames of horizontal poles stand beside every house, filled with thousands of drying salmon; and "an ancient and fish-like smell," which pervades the whole atmosphere, betrays the nature of the kamchadals' occupation and of the food upon which they live. half a dozen dugout canoes lie bottom upward on the sandy shelving beach, covered with large neatly tied seines; two or three long, narrow dog-sledges stand up on their ends against every house, and a hundred or more sharp-eared wolfish dogs, tied at intervals to long heavy poles, lie panting in the sun, snapping viciously at the flies and mosquitoes which disturb their rest. in the centre of the village, facing the west, stands, in all the glory of kamchatko-byzantine architecture, red paint, and glittering domes, the omnipresent greek church, contrasting strangely with the rude log houses and conical _balagáns_ over which it extends the spiritual protection of its resplendent golden cross. it is built generally of carefully hewn logs, painted a deep brick-red, covered with a green sheet-iron roof, and surmounted by two onion-shaped domes of tin which are sometimes coloured sky-blue and spangled with golden stars. standing with all its glaring contrasts of colour among a few unpainted log houses in a primitive wilderness, it has a strange picturesque appearance not easily described. if you can imagine a rough american backwoods settlement of low log houses clustered round a gaily coloured turkish mosque, half a dozen small haystacks mounted on high vertical posts, fifteen or twenty titanic wooden gridirons similarly elevated and hung full of drying fish, a few dog-sledges and canoes lying carelessly around, and a hundred or more grey wolves tied here and there between the houses to long heavy poles, you will have a general but tolerably accurate idea of a kamchadal settlement of the better class. they differ somewhat in respect to their size and their churches; but the grey log houses, conical _balagáns_ drying fish, wolfish dogs, canoes, sledges, and fishy odours are all invariable features. the inhabitants of these native settlements in southern kamchatka are a dark swarthy race, considerably below the average stature of siberian natives, and are very different in all their characteristics from the wandering tribes of koraks and chukchis who live farther north. the men average perhaps five feet three or four inches in height, have broad flat faces, prominent cheek bones, small and rather sunken eyes, no beards, long, lank, black hair, small hands and feet, very slender limbs, and a tendency to enlargement and protrusion of the abdomen. they are probably of central asiatic origin, but they certainly have had no very recent connection with any other siberian tribe with which i am acquainted, and are not at all like the chukchis, koraks, yakuts (yah-koots'), or tunguses (toon-goo'-ses). from the fact of their living a settled instead of a wandering life they were brought under russian subjection much more easily than their nomadic neighbours, and have since experienced in a greater degree the civilising influences of russian intercourse. they have adopted almost universally the religion, customs, and habits of their conquerors, and their own language, which is a very curious one, is already falling into disuse. it would be easy to describe their character by negatives. they are not independent, self-reliant, or of a combative disposition like the northern chukchis and koraks; they are not avaricious or dishonest, except where those traits are the results of russian education; they are not suspicious or distrustful, but rather the contrary; and for generosity, hospitality, simple good faith, and easy, equable good-nature under all circumstances, i have never met their equals. as a race they are undoubtedly becoming extinct. since , they have diminished in numbers more than one half, and frequently recurring epidemics and famines will soon reduce them to a comparatively weak and unimportant tribe, which will finally be absorbed in the growing russian population of the peninsula. they have already lost most of their distinctive customs and superstitions, and only an occasional sacrifice of a dog to some malignant spirit of storm or disease enables the modern traveller to catch a glimpse of their original paganism. they depend mainly for subsistence upon the salmon, which every summer run into these northern rivers in immense numbers to spawn, and are speared, caught in seines, and trapped in weirs by thousands. these fish, dried without salt in the open air, are the food of the kamchadals and of their dogs throughout the long, cold northern winter. during the summer, however, their bill of fare is more varied. the climate and soil of the river bottoms in southern kamchatka admit of the cultivation of rye, potatoes, and turnips, and the whole peninsula abounds in animal life. reindeer and black and brown bears roam everywhere over the mossy plains and through the grassy valleys; wild sheep and a species of ibex are not unfrequently found in the mountains; and millions upon millions of ducks, geese, and swans, in almost endless variety, swarm about every river and little marshy lake throughout the country. these aquatic fowls are captured in great multitudes while moulting by organised "drives" of fifty or seventy-five men in canoes, who chase the birds in one great flock up some narrow stream, at the end of which a huge net is arranged for their reception. they are then killed with clubs, cleaned, and salted for winter use. tea and sugar have been introduced by the russians, and have been received with great favour, the annual consumption now being more than , pounds of each in the kamchatkan peninsula alone. bread is now made of rye, which the kamchadals raise and grind for themselves; but previous to the settlement of the country by the russians, the only native substitute for bread was a sort of baked paste, consisting chiefly of the grated tubers of the purple kamchatkan lily. [footnote: a species of fritillaria.] the only fruits in the country are berries and a species of wild cherry. of the berries, however, there are fifteen or twenty different kinds, of which the most important are blueberries, "maróshkas" (mah-ro'-shkas), or yellow cloud-berries, and dwarf cranberries. these the natives pick late in the fall, and freeze for winter consumption. cows are kept in nearly all the kamchadal settlements, and milk is always plenty. a curious native dish of sour milk, baked curds, and sweet cream, covered with powdered sugar and cinnamon, is worthy of being placed upon a civilised table. it will thus be seen that life in a kamchatkan settlement, gastronomically considered, is not altogether so disagreeable as we have been led to believe. i have seen natives in the valley of the kamchatka as pleasantly situated, and enjoying as much comfort and almost as many luxuries, as nine tenths of the settlers upon the frontiers of our western states and territories. [illustration: travelling bag made of reindeer skin] chapter viii bridle paths op southern kamchatka--houses and food of the people--reindeer tongues and wild-rose petals--a kamchatkan driver's canticle at okuta we found our horses and men awaiting our arrival; and after eating a hasty lunch of bread, milk, and blueberries in a little native house, we clambered awkwardly into our saddles, and filed away in a long irregular line through the woods, dodd and i taking the advance, singing _bonnie dundee_. we kept continually near the group of mountains which had presented so beautiful an appearance in the morning; but, owing to the forest of birch and mountain ash which clothed the foot-hills, we caught only occasional glimpses between the tree-tops of their white snowy summits. just before sunset, we rode into another little native village, whose ingeniously constructed name defied all my inexperienced attempts to pronounce it or write it down. dodd was good-natured enough to repeat it to me five or six times; but as it sounded worse and more unintelligible every time, i finally called it jerusalem, and let it go at that. for the sake of geographical accuracy i have so marked it down on my map; but let no future commentator point to it triumphantly as a proof that the lost tribes of israel emigrated to kamchatka; i don't believe that they did, and i know that this unfortunate settlement, before i took pity on it and called it jerusalem, was distinguished by a name so utterly barbarous that neither the hebrew alphabet nor any other known to ancient literature could have begun to do it justice. tired by the unusual exercise of horseback riding, i entered jerusalem at a walk, and throwing my bridle to a kamchadal in blue nankeen shirt and buckskin trousers, who saluted me with a reverential bow, i wearily dismounted and entered the house which viushin indicated as the one we were to occupy. the best room, which had been prepared for our reception, was a low bare apartment about twelve feet square, whose walls, ceiling, and floor of unpainted birch planks were scoured to a smooth snowy purity which would have been creditable even to the neat housewives of the dutch paradise of broek. an immense clay oven, neatly painted red, occupied one side of the room; a bench, three or four rude chairs, and a table, were arranged with severe propriety against the other. two windows of glass, shaded by flowery calico curtains, admitted the warm sunshine; a few coarse american lithographs hung here and there against the wall; and the air of perfect neatness, which prevailed everywhere, made us suddenly and painfully conscious of our own muddy boots and rough attire. no tools except axes and knives had been used in the construction of the house or of its furniture; but the unplaned, unpainted boards had been diligently scrubbed with water and sand to a delicate creamy whiteness, which made amends for all rudeness of workmanship. there was not a plank in the floor from which the most fastidious need have hesitated to eat. the most noticeable peculiarity of this, as of all the other kamchadal houses which we saw in southern kamchatka, was the lowness of its doors. they seemed to have been designed for a race of beings whose only means of locomotion were hands and knees, and to enter them without making use of those means required a flexibility of spinal vertebrae only to be acquired by long and persevering practice. viushin and dodd, who had travelled in kamchatka before, experienced no difficulty in accommodating themselves to this peculiarity of native architecture; but the major and i, during the first two weeks of our journey, bore upon the fore parts of our heads, bumps whose extraordinary size and irregularity of development would have puzzled even spurzheim and gall. if the abnormal enlargement of the bumps had only been accompanied by a corresponding enlargement of the respective faculties, there would have been some compensation for this disfiguration of our heads; but unfortunately "perception" might be suddenly developed by the lintel of a door until it looked like a goose-egg, without enabling us to perceive the very next beam which came in our way until after we had struck our heads against it. the cossack who had been sent through the peninsula as an avant-courier to notify the natives of our coming, had carried the most exaggerated reports of our power and importance, and elaborate preparations had been made by the jerusalemites for our reception. the house that was to be honoured by our presence had been carefully scrubbed, swept, and garnished; the women had put on their most flowery calico dresses, and tied their hair up in their brightest silk handkerchiefs; most of the children's faces had been painfully washed and polished with soap, water, and wads of fibrous hemp; the whole village had been laid under contribution to obtain the requisite number of plates, cups, and spoons, for our supper-table, while offerings of ducks, reindeer-tongues, blueberries, and clotted cream poured in upon us with a profusion which testified to the good-will and hospitality of the inhabitants, as well as to their ready appreciation of tired travellers' wants. in an hour we sat down, with appetites sharpened by the pure mountain air, to an excellent supper of cold roast duck, broiled reindeer-tongues, black-bread and fresh butter, blueberries and cream, and wild-rose petals crushed with white sugar into a rich delicious jam. we had come to kamchatka with minds and mouths heroically made up for an unvarying diet of blubber, tallow candles, and train-oil; but imagine our surprise and delight at being treated instead to such sybaritic luxuries as purple blueberries, cream, and preserved rose-leaves! did lucullus ever feast upon preserved rose-petals in his, vaunted pleasure-gardens of tusculum? never! the original recipe for the preparation of celestial ambrosia had been lost before ever "lucullus supped with lucullus"; but it was rediscovered by the despised inhabitants of kamchatka, and is now offered, to the world as the first contribution of the hyperboreans to gastronomical science. take equal quantities of white loaf sugar and the petals of the alpine rose, add a little juice of crushed blueberries, macerate together to a rich crimson paste, serve in the painted cups of trumpet honeysuckles, and imagine yourself feasting with the gods upon the summit of high olympus! as soon as possible after supper, i stretched myself out upon the floor under a convenient table, which answered practically and aesthetically all the purposes of a four-post bedstead, inflated my little rubber pillow, rolled myself up, _à la_ mummy, in a blanket, and slept. the major, always an early riser, was awake on the following morning at daylight. dodd and i, with a coincidence of opinion as rare as it was gratifying, regarded early rising as a relic of barbarism which no american, with a proper regard for the civilisation of the nineteenth century, would demean himself by encouraging. we had therefore entered into a mutual agreement upon this occasion to sleep peacefully until the "caravan," as dodd irreverently styled it, should be ready to start, or at least until we should receive a summons for breakfast. soon after daybreak, however, a terrific row began about something, and with a vague impression that i was attending a particularly animated primary meeting in the ninth ward, i sprang up, knocked my head violently against a table-leg, opened my eyes in amazement, and stared wildly at the situation. the major, in a scanty _déshabillé,_ was storming furiously about the room, cursing our frightened drivers in classical russian, because the horses had all stampeded during the night and gone, as he said with expressive simplicity, "chort tolko znal kooda"--"the devil only knew where." this was rather an unfortunate beginning of our campaign; but in the course of two hours most of the wandering beasts were found, packs were adjusted, and after an unnecessary amount of profanity from the drivers, we turned our backs on jerusalem and rode slowly away over the rolling grassy foot-hills of the avachinski volcano. it was a warm, beautiful indian summer day, and a peculiar stillness and sabbath-like quiet seemed to pervade all nature. the leaves of the scattering birches and alders along the trail hung motionless in the warm sunshine, the drowsy cawing of a crow upon a distant larch came to our ears with strange distinctness, and we even imagined that we could hear the regular throbbing of the surf upon the far-away coast. a faint murmurous hum of bees was in the air, and a rich fruity fragrance came up from the purple clusters of blueberries which our horses crushed under foot at every step. all things seemed to unite in tempting the tired traveller to stretch himself out on the warm fragrant grass, and spend the day in luxurious idleness, listening to the buzzing of the sleepy bees, inhaling the sweet smell of crushed blueberries, and watching the wreaths of curling smoke which rose lazily from the lofty crater of the great white volcano. i laughingly said to dodd that instead of being in siberia--the frozen land of russian exiles--we had apparently been transported by some magical arabian night's contrivance to the clime of the "lotus eaters," which would account for the dreamy, drowsy influence of the atmosphere. "clime of the lotus eaters be hanged!" he broke out impetuously, making a furious slap at his face; "the poet doesn't say that the lotus eaters were eaten up themselves by such cursed mosquitoes as these, and they're sufficient evidence that we're in kamchatka--they don't grow as big as bumblebees in any other country!" i reminded him mildly that according to walton--old isaac--every misery we missed was a new mercy, and that, consequently, he ought to be thankful for every mosquito that didn't bite him. his only reply was that he "wished he had old isaac there." what summary reprisals were to be made upon old isaac i did not know, but it was evident that dodd did not approve of his philosophy, or of my attempt at consolation, so i desisted. maximof (max-im'-off), the chief of our drivers, labouring under a vague impression that, because everything was so still and quiet, it must be sunday, rode slowly through the scattered clumps of silver birch which shaded the trail, chanting in a loud, sonorous voice a part of the service of the greek church, suspending this devotional exercise, occasionally, to curse his vagrant horses in a style which would have excited the envy and admiration of the most profane trooper of the army in flanders. "oh! let my pray-er be-e-e (_here! you pig! keep in the road_!) set forth as the in-cense; and let the lifting up of my han-n-n-ds be--(_get up! you korova! you old, blind, broken-legged son of the evil spirit! where you going to_!)--an eve-n-ing sacrifice: let not my heart be inclined to--(_lie down again, will you! thwack? take that, you old sleepy-headed svinya proclatye_!)--any e-vil thing; let me not be occupied with any evil works (_akh! what a horse! bokh s'nim_!). set a watch before my mouth, and keep the do-o-o-r of my lips--(_whoa! you merzavitz! what did you run into that tree for? ecca voron! podletz! slepoi takoi! chart tibi vasmee_!)"--and maximof lapsed into a strain of such ingenious and metaphorical profanity that my imagination was left to supply the deficiencies of my imperfect comprehension. he did not seem to be conscious of any inconsistency between the chanted psalm and the profane interjections by which it was accompanied; but, even if he had been fully aware of it, he probably would have regarded the chanting as a fair offset to the profanity, and would have gone on his way with serene indifference, fully assured that if he sang a sacred verse every time he swore, his celestial account must necessarily balance! the road, or rather trail, from jerusalem turned away to the westward, and wound around the bases of a range of low bare mountains, through a dense forest of poplar and birch. now and then we would come out into little grassy openings, where the ground was covered with blueberries, and every eye would be on the lookout for bears; but all was still and motionless--even the grasshoppers chirping sleepily and lazily, as if they too were about to yield to the somnolence which seemed to overpower all nature. to escape the mosquitoes, whose relentless persecution became almost unendurable, we rode on more briskly through a broad, level valley, filled with a dense growth of tall umbelliferous plants, trotted swiftly up a little hill, and rode at a thundering gallop into the village of korak, amid the howling and barking of a hundred and fifty half-wild dogs, the neighing of horses, running to and fro of men, and a scene of general confusion. at korak we changed most of our horses and men, ate an _al fresco_ lunch under the projecting eaves of a mossy kamchadal house, and started at two o'clock for malqua, another village, fifty or sixty miles distant, across the watershed of the kamchatka river. about sunset, after a brisk ride of fifteen or eighteen miles, we suddenly emerged from the dense forest of poplar, birch, and mountain ash which had shut in the trail, and came out into a little grassy opening, about an acre in extent, which seemed to have been made expressly with a view to camping out. it was surrounded on three sides by woods, and opened on the fourth into a wild mountain gorge, choked up with rocks, logs, and a dense growth of underbrush and weeds. a clear cold stream tumbled in a succession of tinkling cascades down the dark ravine, and ran in a sandy flower-bordered channel through the grassy glade, until it disappeared in the encircling forest. it was useless to look for a better place than this to spend the night, and we decided to stop while we still had daylight. to picket our horses, collect wood for a fire, hang over our teakettles, and pitch our little cotton tent, was the work of only a few moments, and we were soon lying at full length upon our warm bearskins, around our towel-covered candle-box, drinking hot tea, discussing kamchatka, and watching the rosy flush of sunset as it slowly faded over the western mountains. as i was lulled to sleep that night by the murmuring plash of falling water, and the tinkling of our horses' bells from the forest behind our tent, i thought that nothing could be more delightful than camp life in kamchatka. we reached malqua on the following day, in a generally exhausted and used-up condition. the road had been terribly rough and broken, running through narrow ravines blocked up with rocks and fallen trees, across wet mossy swamps, and over rugged precipitous hills, where we dared not attempt to ride our horses. we were thrown repeatedly from our saddles; our provision-boxes were smashed against trees, and wet through by sinking in swamps; girths gave way, drivers swore, horses fell down, and we all came to grief, individually and collectively. the major, unaccustomed as he was to these vicissitudes of kamchatkan travel, held out like a spartan; but i noticed that for the last ten miles he rode upon a pillow, and shouted at short intervals to dodd, who, with stoical imperturbability, was riding quietly in advance: "dodd! oh, dodd! haven't we got most to that _con-found-ed_ malqua yet?" dodd would strike his horse a sharp blow with a willow switch, turn half round in his saddle, and reply, with a quizzical smile, that we were "not most there yet, but would be soon!"--an equivocal sort of consolation which did not inspire us with much enthusiasm. at last, when it had already begun to grow dark, we saw a high column of white steam in the distance, which rose, dodd and viushin said, from the hot springs of malqua; and in fifteen minutes we rode, tired, wet, and hungry, into the settlement. supper was a secondary consideration with me _that_ night. all i wanted was to crawl under a table where no one would step on me, and be let alone. i had never before felt such a vivid consciousness of my muscular and osseous system. every separate bone and tendon in my body asserted its individual existence by a distinct and independent ache, and my back in twenty minutes was as inflexible as an iron ramrod. i felt a melancholy conviction that i never should measure five feet ten inches again, unless i could lie on some procrustean bed and have my back stretched out to its original longitude. repeated perpendicular concussions had, i confidently believed, telescoped my spinal vertebrae into each other, so that nothing short of a surgical operation would ever restore them to their original positions. revolving in my mind such mournful considerations, i fell asleep under a table, without even pulling off my boots. [illustration: cap of brown and white fur] chapter ix the beautiful valley of genal--walls of literature--scaring up a bear--end of horseback ride it was hard work on the following morning to climb again into the saddle, but the major was insensible to all appeals for delay. stern and inflexible as rhadamanthus, he mounted stiffly upon his feather pillow and gave the signal for a start. with the aid of two sympathetic kamchadals, who had perhaps experienced the misery of a stiff back, i succeeded in getting astride a fresh horse, and we rode away into the genal (gen-ahl') valley--the garden of southern kamchatka. the village of malqua lies on the northern slope of the kamchatka river watershed, surrounded by low barren granite hills, and reminded me a little in its situation of virginia city, nevada. it is noted chiefly for its hot mineral springs, but as we did not have time to visit these springs ourselves, we were compelled to take the natives' word for their temperature and their medicinal properties, and content ourselves with a distant view of the pillar of steam which marked their location. north of the village opens the long narrow valley of genal--the most beautiful as well as the most fertile spot in all the kamchatkan peninsula. it is about thirty miles in length, and averages three in breadth, and is bounded on both sides by chains of high snow-covered mountains, which stretch away from malqua in a long vista of white ragged peaks and sharp cliffs, almost to the head-waters of the kamchatka river. a small stream runs in a tortuous course through the valley, fringed with long wild grass four or five feet in height, and shaded here and there by clumps of birches, willows, and alders. the foliage was beginning already to assume the brilliant colours of early autumn, and broad stripes of crimson, yellow, and green ran horizontally along the mountain sides, marking on a splendid chromatic scale the successive zones of vegetation as they rose in regular gradation from the level of the valley to the pure glittering snows of the higher peaks. as we approached the middle of the valley just before noon, the scenery assumed a vividness of colour and grandeur of outline which drew forth the most enthusiastic exclamations of delight from our little party. for twenty-five miles in each direction lay the sunny valley, through which the genal river was stretched like a tangled chain of silver, linking together the scattered clumps of birch and thickets of alder, which at intervals diversified its banks. like the happy valley of rasselas, it seemed to be shut out from the rest of the world by impassable mountains, whose snowy peaks and pinnacles rivalled in picturesque beauty, in variety and singularity of form, the wildest dream of eastern architect. half down their sides was a broad horizontal belt of dark-green pines, thrown into strong and beautiful contrast with the pure white snow of the higher summits and the rich crimson of the mountain ash which flamed below. here and there the mountains had been cleft asunder by some titanic power, leaving deep narrow gorges and wild ravines where the sunlight could hardly penetrate, and the eye was lost in soft purple haze. imagine with all this, a warm fragrant atmosphere and a deep blue sky in which floated a few clouds, too ethereal even to cast shadows, and you will perhaps have a faint idea of one of the most beautiful landscapes in all kamchatka. the sierra nevadas may afford views of more savage wildness, but nowhere in california or nevada have i ever seen the distinctive features of both winter and summer--snow and roses, bare granite and brilliantly coloured foliage--blended into so harmonious a picture as that presented by the genal valley on a sunshiny day in early autumn. dodd and i devoted most of our leisure time during the afternoon to picking and eating berries. galloping furiously ahead until we had left the caravan several miles behind, we would lie down in a particularly luxuriant thicket by the river bank, tie our horses to our feet, and bask in the sunshine and feast upon yellow honeyed "moroshkas" (mo-ro'-shkas) and the dark purple globes of delicious blueberries, until our clothes were stained with crimson spots, and our faces and hands resembled those of a couple of comanches painted for the war-path. the sun was yet an hour high when we approached the native village of genal. we passed a field where men and women were engaged in cutting hay with rude sickles, returned their stare of amazement with unruffled serenity, and rode on until the trail suddenly broke off into a river beyond which stood the village. kneeling upon our saddles we succeeded in fording the shallow stream without getting wet, but in a moment we came to another of about the same size. we forded that, and were confronted by a third. this we also passed, but at the appearance of the fourth river the major shouted despairingly to dodd, "ay! dodd! how many _pagánni_ rivers do we have to wade through in getting to this beastly village?" "only one," replied dodd composedly. "one! then how many times does this one river run past this one settlement?" "five times," was the calm response. "you see," he explained soberly, "these poor kamchadals haven't got but one river to fish in, and that isn't a very big one, so they have made it run past their settlement five times, and by this ingenious contrivance they catch five times as many salmon as they would if it only passed once!" the major was surprised into silence, and seemed to be considering some abstruse problem. finally he raised his eyes from the pommel of his saddle, transfixed the guilty dodd with a glance of severe rebuke, and demanded solemnly, "how many times must a given fish swim past a given settlement, in order to supply the population with food, provided the fish is caught every time he goes past?" this _reductio ad absurdum_ was too much for dodd's gravity; he burst into a laugh, and digging his heels into his horse's ribs, dashed with a great splatter into the fourth arm or bend of the river, and rode up on the other side into the village of genal. we took up our quarters at the house of the "starosta" (stah'-ro-stah) or head man of the village, and spread our bearskins out on the clean white floor of a low room, papered in a funny way with old copies of the _illustrated london news_. a coloured american lithograph, representing the kiss of reconciliation between two offended lovers, hung against the wall on one side, and was evidently regarded with a good deal of pride by the proprietor, as affording incontestable evidence of culture and refined taste, and proving his familiar acquaintance with american art, and the manners and customs of american society. dodd and i, notwithstanding our fatigue, devoted the evening entirely to literary pursuits; searching diligently with tallow candles over the wall and ceiling for consecutive numbers of the _illustrated london news_, reading court gossip from a birch plank in the corner, and obituaries of distinguished englishmen from the back of a door. by dint of industry and perseverance we finished one whole side of the house before bedtime, and having gained a vast amount of valuable information with regard to the war in new zealand, we were encouraged to pursue our investigations in the morning upon the three remaining sides and the ceiling. to our great regret, however, we were obliged to start on our pilgrimage without having time to find out how that war terminated, and we have never been able to ascertain to this day! long before six o'clock we were off with fresh horses for a long ride of ninety versts to pushchin (poosh´-chin). the costumes of our little party had now assumed a very motley and brigandish appearance, every individual having discarded from time to time, such articles of his civilised dress as proved to be inconvenient or uncomfortable, and adopted various picturesque substitutes, which filled more nearly the requirements of a barbarous life. dodd had thrown away his cap, and tied a scarlet and yellow handkerchief around his head. viushin had ornamented his hat with a long streamer of crimson ribbon, which floated gayly in the wind like a whip-pennant. a blue hunting-shirt and a red turkish fez had superseded my uniform coat and cap. we all carried rifles slung across our backs, and revolvers belted around our waists, and were transformed generally into as fantastic brigands as ever sallied forth from the passes of the apennines to levy blackmail upon unwary travellers. a timid tourist, meeting us as we galloped furiously across the plain toward pushchin would have fallen on his knees and pulled out his purse without asking any unnecessary questions. being well mounted on fresh, spirited horses, the major, dodd, viushin, and i rode far in advance of the rest of the party throughout the day. late in the afternoon, as we were going at a slashing rate across the level plain known as the kamchatkan _tundra_, [footnote: a treeless expanse carpeted with moss and low berry-bushes.] the major suddenly drew his horse violently back on his haunches, wheeled half round, and shouted, "medveid! medveid!" and a large black bear rose silently out of the long grass at his very feet. the excitement, i can conscientiously affirm, was terrific. viushin unslung his double-barrelled fowling-piece, and proceeded to pepper him with duck-shot; dodd tugged at his revolver with frantic energy while his horse ran away with him over the plain; the major dropped his bridle, and implored me by all i held sacred not to shoot _him_, while the horses plunged, kicked, and snorted in the most animated manner. the only calm and self-possessed individual in the whole party was the bear! he surveyed the situation coolly for a few seconds, and then started at an awkward gallop for the woods. in an instant our party recovered its conjoint presence of mind, and charged with the most reckless heroism upon his flying footsteps, shouting frantically to "stop him!" popping away in the most determined and unterrified manner with four revolvers and a shotgun, and performing prodigies of valour in the endeavour to capture the ferocious beast, without getting in his way or coming nearer to him than a hundred yards. all was in vain. the bear vanished in the forest like a flying shadow; and, presuming from his known ferocity and vindictiveness that he had prepared an ambuscade for us in the woods, we deemed it the better part of valour to abandon the pursuit. upon comparing notes, we found that we had all been similarly impressed with his enormous size, his shagginess, and his generally savage appearance, and had all been inspired at the same moment with an irresistible inclination to take him by the throat and rip him open with a bowie-knife, in a manner so beautifully illustrated by the old geographies. nothing but the fractiousness of our horses and the rapidity of his flight had prevented this desirable consummation. the major even declared positively that he had seen the bear a long time before, and only rode over him "to scare him up," and said almost in the words of the redoubtable falstaff, "that if we would do him honour for it, so; if not, we might scare up the next bear ourselves." looking at the matter calmly and dispassionately afterward, i thought it extremely probable that if another bear did not scare the major up, he never would go out of his way to scare up another bear. we felt it to be our duty, however, to caution him against imperilling the success of our expedition by such reckless exploits in the way of scaring up wild beasts. long before we reached pushchin it grew dark; but our tired horses freshened up after sunset, with the cool evening air, and about eight o'clock we heard the distant howling of dogs, which we had already come to associate with hot tea, rest, and sleep. in twenty minutes we were lying comfortably on our bearskins in a kamchadal house. we had made sixty miles since daybreak; but the road had been good. we were becoming more accustomed to horseback riding, and were by no means so tired as we had been at malqua. only thirty versts now intervened between us and the head-waters of the kamchatka river, where we were to abandon our horses and float down two hundred and fifty miles on rafts or in native canoes. a sharp trot of four hours over a level plain brought us on the following morning to sherom (sheh-rome´), where rafts had already been prepared for our use. it was with no little regret that i ended for the present my horseback travel. the life suited me in every respect, and i could not recall any previous journey which had ever afforded me more pure, healthful enjoyment, or seemed more like a delightful pleasure excursion than this. all siberia, however, lay before us; and our regret at leaving scenes which we should never again revisit was relieved by anticipations of future adventures equally novel, and prospective scenery grander even than anything which we had yet witnessed. chapter x the kamchatka river--life on a canoe raft--reception at milkova--mistaken for the tsar to a person of an indolent disposition there is something particularly pleasant in floating in a boat down a river. one has all the advantages of variety, and change of incident and scenery, without any exertion; all the lazy pleasures--for such they must be called--of boat life, without any of the monotony which makes a long sea voyage so unendurable. i think it was gray who said that his idea of paradise was "to lie on a sofa and read eternally new romances of marivaux and crebillon." could the author of the "elegy" have stretched himself out on the open deck of a kamchadal boat, covered to a depth of six inches with fragrant flowers and freshly cut hay; could he have floated slowly down a broad, tranquil river through ranges of snow-clad mountains, past forests glowing with yellow and crimson, and vast steppes waving with tall, wild grass; could he have watched the full moon rise over the lonely, snowy peak of the kluchefskoi (kloo'-chef-skoi') volcano, bridging the river with a narrow trail of quivering light, and have listened to the plash of the boatman's paddles, and the low melancholy song to which they kept time--he would have thrown marivaux and crebillon overboard, and have given a better example of the pleasures of paradise. i know that i am laying myself open to the charge of exaggeration by thus praising kamchatkan scenery, and that my enthusiasm will perhaps elicit a smile of amusement from the more experienced traveller who has seen italy and the alps; still, i am describing things as they appeared to me, and do not assert that the impressions they made were those that should or would have been made upon a man of more extensive experience and wider observation. to use the words of a spanish writer, which i have somewhere read, "the man who has never seen the glory of the sun cannot be blamed for thinking that there is no glory like that of the moon; nor he who has never seen the moon, for talking of the unrivalled brightness of the morning star." had i ever sailed down the rhine, climbed the matterhorn, or seen the moon rise over the bay of naples, i should have taken perhaps a juster and less enthusiastic view of kamchatka; but, compared with anything that i had previously seen or imagined, the mountain landscapes of southern and central kamchatka were superb. at sherom, thanks to the courier who had preceded us, we found a boat, or kamchatkan raft, ready for our reception. it was composed of three large dugout canoes placed parallel to one another at distances of about three feet, and lashed with sealskin thongs to stout transverse poles. over these was laid a floor or platform about ten feet by twelve, leaving room at the bow and stern of each canoe for men with paddles who were to guide and propel the unwieldy craft in some unknown, but, doubtless, satisfactory manner. on the platform, which was covered to a depth of six inches with freshly cut grass, we pitched our little cotton tent, and transformed it with bearskins, blankets, and pillows into a very cosy substitute for a stateroom. rifles and revolvers were unstrapped from our tired bodies, and hung up against the tent poles; heavy riding boots were unceremoniously kicked off, and replaced by soft buckskin _torbasses_ [footnote: moccasin boots.]; saddles were stored away in convenient nooks for future use; and all our things disposed with a view to the enjoyment of as much luxury as was compatible with our situation. after a couple of hours' rest, during which our heavy baggage was transferred to another similar raft, we walked down to the sandy beach, bade good-bye to the crowd which had assembled to see us off, and swung slowly out into the current, the kamchadals on the shore waving hats and handkerchiefs until a bend in the river hid them from sight. the scenery of the upper kamchatka for the first twenty miles was comparatively tame and uninteresting, as the mountains were entirely concealed by a dense forest of pine, birch, and larch, which extended down to the water's edge. it was sufficient pleasure, however, at first, to lie back in the tent upon our soft bearskins, watching the brilliantly coloured and ever varying foliage of the banks, to sweep swiftly but silently around abrupt bends into long vistas of still water, startling the great kamchatkan eagle from his lonely perch on some jutting rock, and frightening up clouds of clamorous waterfowl, which flew in long lines down the river until out of sight. the navigation of the upper kamchatka is somewhat intricate and dangerous at night, on account of the rapidity of the current and the frequency of snags; and as soon as it grew dark our native boatmen considered it unsafe to go on. we accordingly beached our rafts and went ashore to wait for moonrise. a little semicircle was cut in the thick underbrush at the edge of the beach, fires were built, kettles of potatoes and fish hung over to boil, and we all gathered around the cheerful blaze to smoke, talk, and sing american songs until supper time. the scene to civilised eyes was strangely wild and picturesque. the dark, lonely river gurgling mournfully around sunken trees in its channel; the dense primeval forest whispering softly to the passing wind its amazement at this invasion of its solitude; the huge flaming camp-fire throwing a red lurid glare over the still water, and lighting up weirdly the encircling woods; and the groups of strangely dressed men lounging carelessly about the blaze upon shaggy bearskins--all made up a picture worthy of the pencil of rembrandt. after supper we amused ourselves by building an immense bonfire of driftwood on the beach, and hurling blazing firebrands at the leaping salmon as they passed up the river, and the frightened ducks which had been roused from sleep by the unusual noise and light. when nothing remained of our bonfire but a heap of glowing embers, we spread our bearskins upon the soft, yielding sand by the water's edge, and lay staring up at the twinkling stars until consciousness faded away into dreams, and dreams into utter oblivion. i was waked about midnight by the splashing of rain in my face and the sobbing of the rising wind in the tree-tops, and upon crawling out of my water-soaked blankets found that dodd and the major had brought the tent ashore, pitched it among the trees, and availed themselves of its shelter, but had treacherously left me exposed to a pelting rain-storm, as if it were a matter of no consequence whatever whether i slept in a tent or a mud-puddle! after mentally debating the question whether i had better go inside or revenge myself by pulling the tent down over their heads, i finally decided to escape from the rain first and seek revenge at some more propitious time. hardly had i fallen asleep again when "spat" came the wet canvas across my face, accompanied by a shout of "get up! it is time to start"; and crawling out from under the fallen tent i walked sullenly down to the raft, revolving in my mind various ingenious schemes for getting even with the major and dodd, who had first left me out in the rain, and then waked me up in the middle of the night by pulling a wet tent down over my head. it was one o'clock in the morning--dark, rainy, and dismal--but the moon was supposed to have risen, and our kamchadal boatmen said that it was light enough to start. i didn't believe that it was, but my sleepily expressed opinions had no weight with the major, and my protests were utterly ignored. hoping in the bitterness of my heart that we _should_ run against a snag, i lay down sullenly in the rain on the wet soaking grass of our raft, and tried to forget my misery in sleep. on account of the contrary wind we could not put up our tent, and were obliged to cover ourselves as best we could with oilcloth blankets and shiver away the remainder of the night. about an hour after daylight we approached the kamchadal settlement of milkova (mil'-ko-vah), the largest native village in the peninsula. the rain had ceased, and the clouds were beginning to break away, but the air was still cold and raw. a courier, who had been sent down in a canoe from sherom on the previous day, had notified the inhabitants of our near approach, and the signal gun which we fired as we came round the last bend of the river brought nearly the whole population running helter-skelter to the beach. our reception was "a perfect ovation." the "city fathers," as dodd styled them, to the number of twenty, gathered in a body at the landing and began bowing, taking off their hats, and shouting "zdrastvuitie?" [footnote: how do you do?] while we were yet fifty yards from the shore; a salute was fired from a dozen rusty flint-lock muskets, to the imminent hazard of our lives; and a dozen natives waded into the water to assist us in getting safely landed. the village stood a short distance back from the river's bank, and the natives had provided for our transportation thither four of the worst-looking horses that i had seen in kamchatka. their equipments consisted of wooden saddles, modelled after the gables of an angular house; stirrups about twelve inches in length, patched up from discarded remnants of sealskin thongs; cruppers of bearskin, and halters of walrus hide twisted around the animals' noses. the excitement which prevailed when we proceeded to mount was unparalleled i believe in the annals of that quiet settlement. i don't know how the major succeeded in getting upon his horse, but i do know that a dozen long-haired kamchadals seized dodd and me, regardless of our remonstrances, hauled us this way and that until the struggle to get hold of some part of our unfortunate persons resembled the fight over the dead body of patroclus, and finally hoisted us triumphantly into our saddles in a breathless and exhausted condition. one more such hospitable reception would forever have incapacitated us for the service of the russian american telegraph company! i had only time to cast a hurried glance back at the major. he looked like a frightened landsman straddling the end of a studdingsail-boom run out to leeward on a fast clipper, and his face was screwed up into an expression of mingled pain, amusement, and astonishment, which evidently did not begin to do justice to his conflicting emotions. i had no opportunity of expressing my sympathetic participation in his sufferings; for an excited native seized the halter of my horse, three more with reverently bared heads fell in on each side, and i was led away in triumph to some unknown destination! the inexpressible absurdity of our appearance did not strike me with its full force until i looked behind me just before we reached the village. there were the major, viushin, and dodd, perched upon gaunt kamchadal horses, with their knees and chins on nearly the same level, half a dozen natives in eccentric costumes straggling along by their sides at a dog-trot, and a large procession of bareheaded men and boys solemnly bringing up the rear, punching the horses with sharp sticks into a temporary manifestation of life and spirit. it reminded me faintly of a roman triumph--the major, dodd, and i being the victorious heroes, and the kamchadals the captives, whom we had compelled to go _sub jugum_, and who now graced our triumphal entry into the seven-hilled city. i mentioned this fancy of mine to dodd, but he declared that one would have had to do violence to his imagination to make "victorious heroes" out of us on that occasion, and suggested "heroic victims" as equally poetical and more in accordance with the facts. his severely practical mind objected to any such fanciful idealisation of our misery. the excitement increased rather than diminished as we entered the village. our motley escort gesticulated, ran to and fro, and shouted unintelligible orders in the most frantic manner; heads appeared and disappeared with startling kaleidoscopic abruptness at the windows of the houses; and three hundred dogs contributed to the general confusion by breaking out into an infernal canine peace jubilee which fairly made the air quiver with sound. at last we stopped in front of a large one-story log house, and were assisted by twelve or fifteen natives to dismount and enter. as soon as dodd could collect his confused faculties he demanded: "what in the name of all the russian saints is the matter with this settlement; is everybody insane?" viushin was ordered to send for the _starosta_, or head man of the village, and in a few moments he made his appearance, bowing with the impressive persistency of a chinese mandarin. a prolonged colloquy then took place in russian between the major and the _starosta_, broken by explanatory commentaries in the kamchadal language, which did not tend materially to elucidate the subject. an evident and increasing disposition to smile gradually softened the stern lines of the major's face, until at last he burst into a laugh of such infectious hilarity that, notwithstanding my ignorance of the nature of the fun, i joined in with hearty sympathy. as soon as he partially recovered his composure he gasped out, "the natives took you for the emperor!"--and then he went off in another spasm of merriment which threatened to terminate either in suffocation or apoplexy. lost in bewilderment i could only smile feebly until he recovered sufficiently to give me a more intelligible explanation of his mirth. it appeared that the courier who had been sent from petropavlovsk to apprise the natives throughout the peninsula of our coming, had carried a letter from the russian governor giving the names and occupations of the members of our party, and that mine had been put down as "yagor kennan, telegraphist and _operator_." it so happened that the _starosta_ of milkova possessed the rare accomplishment of knowing how to read russian writing, and the letter had been handed over to him to be communicated to the inhabitants of the village. he had puzzled over the unknown word "telegraphist" until his mind was in a hopeless state of bewilderment, but had not been able to give even the wildest conjecture as to its probable meaning. "_operator_," however, had a more familiar sound; it was not spelled exactly in the way to which he had been accustomed, but it was evidently intended for "imperator," the emperor!--and with his heart throbbing with the excitement of this startling discovery and his hair standing on end from the arduous nature of his exegetical labours, he rushed furiously out to spread the news that the tsar of all the russias was on a visit to kamchatka and would pass through milkova in the course of three days! the excitement which this alarming announcement created can better be imagined than described. the all-absorbing topic of conversation was, how could milkova best show its loyalty and admiration for the head of the imperial family, the right arm of the holy orthodox church, and the mighty monarch of seventy millions of devoted souls? kamchadal ingenuity gave it up in despair! what could a poor kamchatkan village do for the entertainment of its august master? when the first excitement passed away, the _starosta_ was questioned closely as to the nature of the letter which had brought this news, and was finally compelled to admit that it did not say distinctly, "alexander nikolaivitch, _imperator_," but "yagor" something "_operator,_" which he contended was substantially the same thing, because if it didn't mean the emperor himself it meant one of his most intimate relations, who was entitled to equal honour and must be treated with equal reverence. the courier had already gone, and had said nothing about the rank of the travellers whom he heralded, except that they had arrived at petropavlovsk in a ship, wore gorgeous uniforms of blue and gold, and were being entertained by the governor and the captain of the port. public opinion finally settled down into the conviction that "_op_-erator", etymologically considered, was first cousin to "_im_-perator," and that it must mean some dignitary of high rank connected with the imperial family. with this impression they had received us when we arrived, and had, poor fellows, done their very best to show us proper honour and respect. it had been a severe ordeal to us, but it had proved in the most unmistakable manner the loyalty of the kamchadal inhabitants of milkova to the reigning family of russia. the major explained to the _starosta_ our real rank and occupation, but it did not seem to make any difference whatever in the cordial hospitality of our reception. we were treated to the very best that the village afforded, and were stared at with a curiosity which showed that travellers through milkova had hitherto been few and far between. after eating bread and reindeer meat and tasting experimentally various curiously compounded native dishes, we returned in state to the landing-place, accompanied by another procession, received a salute of fifteen guns, and resumed our voyage down the river. [illustration: war and hunting knives.] [illustration: snowbeaters used for beating snow from the clothing.] chapter xi arrival at kluchei--the kluchefskoi volcano--a question of route--a russian "black bath" the valley of this river is unquestionably the most fertile part of the whole kamchatkan peninsula. nearly all of the villages that we passed were surrounded by fields of rye and neatly fenced gardens; the banks everywhere were either covered with timber or waving with wild grass five feet in height; and the luxuriant growth in many places of flowers and weeds testified to the richness of the soil and the warm humidity of the climate. primroses, cowslips, marsh violets, buttercups, wild-roses, cinquefoil, iris, and azure larkspur grow everywhere throughout the valley in the greatest abundance; and a peculiar species of umbelliferae, with hollow-jointed stems, attains in many places a height of six feet, and grows so densely that its huge serrated leaves hide a man from sight at a distance of a few yards. all this is the growth of a single summer. there are twelve native settlements between the head-waters of the river and the kluchefskoi volcano, and nearly all are situated in picturesque locations, and surrounded by gardens and fields of rye. nowhere does the traveller see any evidences of the barrenness, sterility, and frigid desolation which have always been associated with the name of kamchatka. after leaving our hospitable native friends and our imperial dignity at milkova, on monday morning, we floated slowly down the river for three days, catching distant glimpses of the snowy mountain ranges which bounded the valley, roaming through the woods in search of bears and wild cherries, camping at night on the river-bank among the trees, and living generally a wild, free, delightful life. we passed the native settlements of kirgánic (keer-gan'-ic), márshura (mar'-shoo-rah), shchápina (shchap'-in-ah), and tolbachic, where we were received with boundless hospitality; and on wednesday, september th, camped in the woods south of kazerefski (kaz-er-ef'-ski), only a hundred and twenty versts distant from the village of kluchei (kloo-chay'). it rained nearly all day wednesday, and we camped at night among the dripping trees, with many apprehensions that the storm would hide the magnificent scenery of the lower kamchatka, through which we were about to pass. it cleared away, however, before midnight; and i was awakened at an early hour in the morning by a shouted summons from dodd to get up and look at the mountains. there was hardly a breath of air astir, and the atmosphere had that peculiar crystalline transparency which may sometimes be seen in california. a heavy hoar-frost lay white on the boats and grass, and a few withered leaves dropped wavering through the still cool air from the yellow birch trees which overhung our tent. there was not a sound to break harshly upon the silence of dawn; and only the tracks of wild reindeer and prowling wolves, on the smooth sandy beach showed that there was life in the quiet lonely wilderness around us. the sun had not yet risen, but the eastern heavens were aglare with yellow light, even up to the morning-star, which, although "paling its ineffectual fires," still maintained its position as a glittering outpost between the contending powers of night and day. far away to the north-eastward, over the yellow forest, in soft purple relief against the red sunrise, stood the high sharp peaks of kluchei, grouped around the central wedge-like cone of the magnificent kluchefskoi volcano. nearly a month before i had seen these noble mountains from the tossing deck of a little brig, seventy-five miles at sea; but i little thought then that i should see them again from a lonely camp in the woods of the kamchatka river. for nearly half an hour dodd and i sat quietly on the beach, absent-mindedly throwing pebbles into the still water, watching the illumination of the distant mountains by the rising sun, and talking over the adventures which we had experienced since leaving petropavlovsk. with what different impressions had i come to look at siberian life since i first saw the precipitous coast of kamchatka looming up out of the blue water of the pacific! then it was an unknown, mysterious land of glaciers and snowy mountains, filled with possibilities of adventure, but lonely and forbidding in its uninhabited wildness. now it was no longer lonely or desolate. every mountain peak was associated with some hospitable village nestled at its feet; every little stream was connected with the great world of human interests by some pleasant recollection of camp life. the possibilities of adventure were still there, but the imaginary loneliness and desolation had vanished with one week's experience. i thought of the vague conceptions which i had formed in america of this beautiful country, and tried to compare them with the more recent impressions by which they had been crowded out, but the effort was vain. i could not surround myself again with the lost intellectual atmosphere of civilisation, nor reconcile those earlier anticipations with this strangely different experience. the absurd fancies, which had seemed so vivid and so true only three months before, had now faded away into the half-remembered imagery of a dream, and nothing was real but the tranquil river which flowed at my feet, the birch tree which dropped its yellow leaves upon my head, and the far-away purple mountains. i was roused from my reverie by the furious beating of a tin mess-kettle, which was the summons to breakfast. in half an hour breakfast was despatched, the tent struck, camp equipage packed up, and we were again under way. we floated all day down the river toward kluchei, getting ever-changing views of the mountains as they were thrown into new and picturesque combinations by our motion to the northward. we reached kazerefski at dark, and, changing our crew, continued our voyage throughout the night. at daybreak on friday we passed kristi (kris-tee'), and at two o'clock in the afternoon arrived at kluchei, having been just eleven days out from petropavlovsk. the village of kluchei is situated in an open plain on the right bank of the kamchatka river, at the very foot of the magnificent kluchefskoi volcano, and has nothing to distinguish it from other kamchadal towns, except the boldness and picturesque beauty of its situation. it lies exactly in the midst of the group of superb isolated peaks which guard the entrance to the river, and is shadowed over frequently by the dense, black smoke of two volcanoes. it was founded early in the eighteenth century by a few russian peasants who were taken from their homes in central russia, and sent with seeds and farming utensils to start a colony in far-away kamchatka. after a long adventurous journey of six thousand miles across asia by way of tobolsk (to-bolsk'), irkutsk (eer-kootsk'), yakutsk (yah-kootsk'), and kolyma (kol-e-mah'), the little band of involuntary emigrants finally reached the peninsula, and settled boldly on the kamchatka river, under the shadow of the great volcano. here they and their descendants have lived for more than a hundred years, until they have almost forgotten how they came there and by whom they were sent. notwithstanding the activity and frequent eruption of the two volcanoes behind the village, its location never has been changed, and its inhabitants have come to regard with indifference the occasional mutterings of warning which come from the depths of the burning craters, and the showers of ashes which are frequently sifted over their houses and fields. never having heard of herculaneum or pompeii, they do not associate any possible danger with the fleecy cloud of smoke which floats in pleasant weather from the broken summit of kluchefskoi, or the low thunderings by which its smaller, but equally dangerous, neighbour asserts its wakefulness during the long winter nights. another century may perhaps elapse without bringing any serious disaster upon the little village; but after hearing the kluchefskoi volcano rumble at a distance of sixty miles, and seeing the dense volumes of black vapour which it occasionally emitted, i felt entirely satisfied to give its volcanic majesty a wide berth, and wondered at the boldness of the kamchadals in selecting such a site for their settlement. the kluchefskoi is one of the highest as well as one of the most uninterruptedly active volcanoes in all the great volcanic chain of the north pacific. since the seventeenth century very few years have elapsed without an eruption of greater or less violence, and even now, at irregular intervals of a few months, it bursts into flame and scatters ashes over the whole width of the peninsula and on both seas. the snow in winter is frequently so covered with ashes for twenty-five miles around kluchei that travel upon sledges becomes almost impossible. many years ago, according to the accounts of the natives, there was an eruption of terrible magnificence. it began in the middle of a clear, dark winter's night, with loud thunderings and tremblings of the earth, which startled the inhabitants of kluchei from their sleep and brought them in affright to their doors. far up in the dark winter's sky, , feet above their heads, blazed a column of lurid flame from the crater, crowned by a great volume of fire-lighted vapour. amid loud rumblings, and dull reverberations from the interior, the molten lava began to flow in broad fiery rivers down the snow-covered mountain side, until for half the distance to its base it was one glowing mass of fire which lighted, up the villages of kristi, kazerefski, and kluchei like the sun, and illuminated the whole country within a radius of twenty-five miles. this eruption is said to have scattered ashes over the peninsula for three hundred versts to a depth of an inch and a half. the lava has never yet descended much, if any, below the snow line; but i see no reason why it may not at some future time overwhelm the settlement of kluchei and fill the channel of the kamchatka river with a fiery flood. the volcano, so far as i know, has never been ascended, and its reported height, , feet, is probably the approximative estimate of some russian officer. it is certainly, however, the highest peak of the kamchatkan peninsula, and is more likely to exceed , feet than fall below it. we felt a strong temptation to try to scale its smooth snowy sides and peer over into its smoking crater; but it would have been folly to make the attempt without two or three weeks' training, and we had not the time to spare. the mountain is nearly a perfect cone, and from the village of kluchei it is so deceitfully foreshortened that the last , feet appear to be absolutely perpendicular. there is another volcano whose name, if it have any, i could not ascertain, standing a short distance south-east of the kluchefskoi, and connected with it by an irregular broken ridge. it does not approach the latter in height, but it seems to draw its fiery supplies from the same source, and is constantly puffing out black vapour, which an east wind drives in great clouds across the white sides of kluchefskoi until it is sometimes almost hidden from sight. we were entertained at kluchei in the large comfortable house of the _starosta_, or local magistrate of the village. the walls of our room were gayly hung with figured calico, the ceiling was covered with white cotton drill, and the rude pine furniture was scoured with soap and sand to the last attainable degree of cleanliness. a coarsely executed picture, which i took to be moses, hung in a gilt frame in the corner; but the sensible prophet had apparently shut his eyes to avoid the smoke of the innumerable candles which had been burned in his honour, and the expression of his face was somewhat marred in consequence. table-cloths of american manufacture were spread on the tables, pots of flowers stood in the curtained windows, a little mirror hung against the wall opposite the door, and all the little fixtures and rude ornaments of the room were disposed with a taste and a view to general effect which the masculine mind may admire but never can imitate. american art, too, had lent a grace to this cottage in the wilderness, for the back of one of the doors was embellished with pictorial sketches of virginian life and scenery from the skilful pencil of porte crayon. i thought of the well-known lines of pope: "the things, we know, are neither rich nor rare, but wonder how the d---- they came there." in such comfortable, not to say luxurious, quarters as these, we succeeded, of course, in passing away pleasantly the remainder of the day. at kluchei we were called upon to decide what route we would adopt in our journey to the northward. the shortest, and in many respects the best, was that usually taken by the russian traders--crossing the central range of mountains to tigil (tee-gill'), by the pass of the yolofka (yo-loff'-ka), and then following up the west coast of the peninsula to the head of the okhotsk sea. the only objections to this were the lateness of the season and the probability of finding deep snow in the mountain passes. our only alternative was to continue our journey from kluchei up the eastern coast to a settlement called dranka (dran'-kah), where the mountains sank into insignificant hills, and cross there to the kamchadal village of lesnoi (less-noi') on the okhotsk sea. this route was considerably longer than the one by the yolofka pass, but its practicability was much more certain. after a great many prolonged consultations with sundry natives, who were supposed to know something about the country, but who carefully avoided responsibility by telling as little as possible, the major concluded to try the yolofka pass, and ordered canoes to be ready on saturday morning to carry us up the yolofka river. at the worst, we could only fail to get over the mountains, and there would be time enough then to return to kluchei, and try the other route before the opening of winter. as soon as we had decided the momentous question of our route, we gave ourselves up to the unrestrained enjoyment of the few pleasures which the small and sedate village of kluchei afforded. there was no afternoon promenade where we could, as the russians say, "show ourselves and see the people"; nor would an exhibition of our tattered and weather-stained garments on a public promenade have been quite the proper thing, had it been possible. we must try something else. the only places of amusement of which we could hear were the village bath-house and the church; and the major and i started out, late in the afternoon, with the intention of "doing" these points of interest in the most approved style of modern tourists. for obvious reasons we took the bath-house first. taking a steam-bath was a very mild sort of dissipation; and if it were true that "cleanliness was next to godliness," the bath-house certainly should precede the church. i had often heard dodd speak of the "black baths" of the kamchadals; and without knowing definitely what he meant, i had a sort of vague impression that these "black baths" were taken in some inky fluid of kamchatkan manufacture, which possessed peculiar detersive properties. i could think of no other reason than this for calling a bath "black." upon entering the "black bath," however, at kluchei, i saw my mistake, and acknowledged at once the appropriateness of the adjective. leaving our clothes in a little rude entry, which answered the purposes without affording any of the conveniences of a dressing-room, we stooped to a low fur-clad door and entered the bath-room proper, which was certainly dark enough and black enough to justify the gloomiest, murkiest adjective in the language. a tallow candle, which was burning feebly on the floor, gave just light enough to distinguish the outlines of a low, bare apartment, about ten feet square, built solidly of unhewn logs, without a single opening for the admission of air or light. every square inch of the walls and ceiling was perfectly black with a sooty deposit from the clouds of smoke with which the room had been filled in the process of heating. a large pile of stones, with a hollow place underneath for a fire, stood in one end of the room, and a series of broad steps, which did not seem to lead anywhere, occupied the other. as soon as the fire had gone out, the chimney-hole had been closed and hermetically sealed, and the pile of hot stones was now radiating a fierce dry heat, which made _res_piration a painful duty, and _per_spiration an unpleasant necessity. the presiding spirit of this dark, infernal place of torture soon made his appearance in the shape of a long-haired, naked kamchadal, and proceeded to throw water upon the pile of red-hot stones until they hissed like a locomotive, and the candle burned blue in the centre of a steamy halo. i thought it was hot before, but it was a siberian winter compared with the temperature which this manoeuvre produced. my very bones seemed melting with fervent heat. after getting the air of the room as nearly as possible up to °, the native seized me by the arm, spread me out on the lowest of the flight of steps, poured boiling suds over my face and feet with reckless impartiality, and proceeded to knead me up, as if he fully intended to separate me into my original elements. i will not attempt to describe the number, the variety, and the diabolical ingenuity of the tortures to which i was subjected during the next twenty minutes. i was scrubbed, rolled, pounded, drenched with cold water and scalded with hot, beaten with bundles of birch twigs, rubbed down with wads of hemp which scraped like brickbats, and finally left to recover my breath upon the highest and hottest step of the whole stairway. a douse of cold water finally put an end to the ordeal and to my misery; and, groping my way out into the entry, i proceeded, with chattering teeth, to dress. in a moment i was joined by the major, and we resumed our walk, feeling like disembodied spirits. owing to the lateness of the hour, we were compelled to postpone indefinitely our visit to the church; but we had been sufficiently amused for one day, and returned to the house satisfied, if not delighted, with our experience of kamchatkan black baths. the evening was spent in questioning the inhabitants of the village about the northern part of the peninsula, and the facilities for travel among the wandering koraks; and before nine o'clock we went to bed, in order that we might make an early start on the following morning. [illustration: wooden mortar used for grinding tobacco] chapter xii canoe travel on the yolofka--volcanic conversation--"o susanna!"--talking "american"--a difficult ascent there was a great variety in the different methods of transportation which we were compelled to adopt in our journey through kamchatka; and to this fact was attributable perhaps, in a great degree, the sense of novelty and freshness which during our three months' travel in the peninsula never entirely wore off. we experienced in turn the pleasures and discomforts of whale-boats, horses, rafts, canoes, dog-sledges, reindeer-sledges, and snow-shoes; and no sooner did we begin to tire of the pleasures and ascertain the discomforts of one, than we were introduced to another. at kluchei we abandoned our rafts, and took kamchadal log canoes, which could be propelled more easily against the rapid current of the yolofka river, which we had now to ascend. the most noticeable peculiarity of this species of craft, and a remarkable one it is, is a decided and chronic inclination to turn its bottom side upward and its upper side bottomward without the slightest apparent provocation. i was informed by a reliable authority that a boat capsized on the kamchatka, just previous to our arrival, through the carelessness of a kamchadal in allowing a jack-knife to remain in his right-hand pocket without putting something of a corresponding weight into the other; and that the kamchadal fashion of parting the hair in the middle originated in attempts to preserve personal equilibrium while navigating these canoes. i should have been somewhat inclined to doubt these remarkable and not altogether new stories, were it not for the reliability and unimpeachable veracity of my informant, mr. dodd. the seriousness of the subject is a sufficient guarantee that he would not trifle with my feelings by making it the pretext for a joke. we indulged ourselves on saturday morning in a much later sleep than was consistent with our duty, and it was almost eight o'clock before we went down to the beach. upon first sight of the frail canoes, to which our destinies and the interests of the russian-american telegraph company were to be intrusted, there was a very general expression of surprise and dissatisfaction. one of our party, with the rapid _à priori_ reasoning for which he was distinguished, came at once to the conclusion that a watery death would be the inevitable termination of a voyage made in such vessels, and he evinced a very marked disinclination to embark. it is related of a great warrior, whose _commentaries_ were the detestation of my early life, that during a very stormy passage of the ionian sea he cheered up his sailors with the sublimely egotistical assurance that they carried "caesar and his fortunes"; and that, consequently, nothing disastrous could possibly happen to them. the kamchatkan caesar, however, on this occasion seemed to distrust his own fortunes, and the attempts at consolation came from the opposite quarter. his boatman did not tell him, "cheer up, caesar, a kamchadal and his fortunes are carrying you," but he _did_ assure him that he had navigated the river for several years, and had "never been drowned _once_." what more could caesar ask!--after some demur we all took seats upon bearskins in the bottoms of the canoes, and pushed off. all other features of natural scenery in the vicinity of kluchei sink into subordination to the grand central figure of the kluchefskoi volcano, the monarch of siberian mountains, whose sharp summit, with its motionless streamer of golden smoke, can be seen anywhere within a radius of a hundred miles. all other neighbouring beauties of scenery are merely tributary to this, and are valued only according to their capability of relieving and setting forth this magnificent peak, whose colossal dimensions rise in one unbroken sweep of snow from the grassy valleys of the kamchatka and yolofka, which terminate at its base. "heir of the sunset and herald of morning," its lofty crater is suffused with a roseate blush long before the morning mists and darkness are out of the valleys, and long after the sun has set behind the purple mountains of tigil. at all times, under all circumstances, and in all its ever-varying moods, it is the most beautiful mountain i have ever seen. now it lies bathed in the warm sunshine of an indian summer's day, with a few fleecy clouds resting at the snow-line and dappling its sides with purple shadows; then it envelops itself in dense volumes of black volcanic smoke, and thunders out a hoarse warning to the villages at its feet; and finally, toward evening, it gathers a mantle of grey mists around its summit, and rolls them in convulsed masses down its sides, until it stands in the clear atmosphere a colossal pillar of cloud, sixteen thousand feet in height, resting upon fifty square miles of shaggy pine forest. you think nothing can be more beautiful than the delicate tender colour, like that of a wild-rose leaf, which tinges its snows as the sun sinks in a swirl of red vapours in the west; but "visit it by the pale moonlight," when its hood of mist is edged with silver, when black shadows gather in its deep ravines and white misty lights gleam from its snowy pinnacles, when the host of starry constellations seems to circle around its lofty peak, and the tangled silver chain of the pleiades to hang upon one of its rocky spires--then say, if you can, that it is more beautiful by daylight. we entered the yolofka about noon. this river empties into the kamchatka from the north, twelve versts above kluchei. its shores are generally low and marshy, and thickly overgrown with rushes and reedy grass, which furnish cover for thousands of ducks, geese, and wild swans. we reached, before night, a native village called harchina (har'-chin-ah) and sent at once for a celebrated russian guide by the name of nicolai bragan (nick-o-lai' brag'-on) whom we hoped to induce to accompany us across the mountains. from bragan we learned that there had been a heavy fall of snow on the mountains during the previous week; but he thought that the warm weather of the last three or four days had probably melted most of it away, and that the trail would be at least passable. he was willing at all events to try to take us across. relieved of a good deal of anxiety, we left harchina early on the morning of the th, and resumed our ascent of the river. on account of the rapidity of the current in the main stream, we turned aside into one of the many "protoks" (pro-tokes') or arms into which the river was here divided, and poled slowly up for four hours. the channel was very winding and narrow, so that one could touch with a paddle the bank on either side, and in many places the birches and willows met over the stream, dropping yellow leaves upon our heads as we passed underneath. here and there long scraggy tree-trunks hung over the bank into the water, logs green with moss thrust their ends up from the depths of the stream, and more than once we seemed about to come to a stop in the midst of an impassable swamp. nicolai alexandrovich, our guide, whose canoe preceded ours, sang for our entertainment some of the monotonous melancholy songs of the kamchadals, and dodd and i in turn made the woods ring with the enlivening strains of "kingdom coming" and "upidee." when we tired of music we made an amicable adjustment of our respective legs in the narrow canoe, and lying back upon our bearskins slept soundly, undisturbed by the splash of the water and the scraping of poles at our very ears. we camped that night on a high sandy beach over the water, ten or twelve miles south of yolofka. it was a warm still evening, and as we all sat on our bearskins around the camp-fire, smoking and talking over the day's adventures, our attention was suddenly attracted by a low rumbling, like distant thunder, accompanied by occasional explosions. "what's that?" demanded the major quickly. "that," said nicolai soberly, as he emptied his lungs of smoke, "is the kluchefskoi volcano talking to the peak of suveilich" (soo-veil'-itch). "nothing private in the conversation, i suppose," observed dodd dryly; "he shouts it out loud enough." the reverberations continued for several minutes, but the peak of suveilich made no response. that unfortunate mountain had recklessly expended its volcanic energies in early life, and was now left without a voice to answer the thundering shouts of its mighty comrade. there was a time when volcanoes were as numerous in kamchatka as knights around the table of king arthur, and the peninsula trembled to the thunder of their shoutings and midnight jollity; but one after another they had been suffocated with the fiery streams of their own eloquence, until at last kluchefskoi was left alone, calling to its old companions throughout the silent hours of long winter nights, but hearing no response save the faint far-away echoes of its own mighty voice. i was waked early on the following morning by the jubilant music of "oh, su-_san'_-na-a-a, don't ye cry for me!" and crawling out of the tent i surprised one of our native boatmen in the very act of drumming on a frying-pan and yelling out joyously: "litenin' struck de telegraf, killed two thousand niggers; shut my eyes to hole my breff, su-_san'_-na-a-a, don't ye cry!" a comical skin-clad native, in the heart of kamchatka, playing on a frying-pan and singing, "oh, susanna!" like an arctic negro minstrel, was too much for my gravity, and i burst into a fit of laughter, which, soon brought out dodd. the musician, who had supposed that he was exercising his vocal organs unheard, stopped suddenly, and looked sheepishly around, as if conscious that he had been making himself ridiculous in some way, but did not know exactly how. "why, andrei," said dodd, "i didn't know you could sing in english." "i can't, barin," was the reply; "but i can sing a little in _american_." dodd and i went off in another roar of laughter, which puzzled poor andrei more and more. "where did you learn?" dodd asked. "the sailors of a whaling-ship learned it to me when i was in petropavlovsk, two years ago; isn't it a good song?" he said, evidently fearing that there might be something improper in the sentiment. "it's a capital song," dodd replied reassuringly; "do you know any more american words?" "oh yes, your honour!" (proudly) "i know 'dam yerize,' 'by 'm bye tomorry,' 'no savey john,' and 'goaty hell,' but i don't know what they all mean." it was evident that he didn't! his american education was of limited extent and doubtful utility; but not even cardinal mezzofanti himself could have been more proud of his forty languages than poor andrei was of "dam yerize" and "goaty hell." if ever he reached america, the blessed land that he saw in his happier dreams, these questionable phrases would be his passports to the first society. while we had been talking with andrei, viushin had built a fire and prepared breakfast, and just as the sun peered into the valley we sat down on bearskins around our little candle-box and ate some "selánka," or sour soup, upon which viushin particularly prided himself, and drank tumbler after tumbler of steaming tea. _selánka_, hardtack, and tea, with an occasional duck roasted before the fire on a sharp stick, made up our bill of fare while camping out. only in the settlements did we enjoy such luxuries as milk, butter, fresh bread, preserved rose-petals, and fish pies. taking our places again in the canoes after breakfast, we poled on up the river, shooting occasionally at flying ducks and swans, and picking as we passed long branches full of wild cherries which drooped low over the water. about noon we left the canoes to go around a long bend in the river, and started on foot with a native guide for yolofka. the grass in the river bottom and on the plains was much higher than our waists, and walking through it was very fatiguing exercise; but we succeeded in reaching the village about one o'clock, long before our canoes came in sight. yolofka, a small kamchadal settlement of half a dozen houses, is situated among the foot-hills of the great central kamchatkan range, immediately below the pass which bears its name, and on the direct route to tigil and the west coast. it is the head of canoe navigation on the yolofka river, and the starting-point for parties intending to cross the mountains. anticipating difficulty in getting horses enough for our use at this small village, the major had sent eight or ten overland from kluchei, and we found them there awaiting our arrival. nearly the whole afternoon was spent in packing the horses and getting ready for a start, and we camped for the night beside a cold mountain spring only a few versts away from the village. the weather, hitherto, had been clear and warm, but it clouded up during the night, and we began the ascent of the mountains tuesday morning the th, in a cold, driving rain-storm from the north-west. the road, if a wretched foot-path ten inches wide can be said in any metaphorical sense to _be_ a road, was simply execrable. it followed the track of a swollen mountain torrent, which had its rise in the melting snows of the summit, and tumbled in roaring cascades down a narrow, dark, precipitous ravine. the path ran along the edge of this stream, first on one side, then on the other, and then in the water, around enormous masses of volcanic rock, over steep lava slopes, where the water ran like a mill-race through dense entangling thickets of trailing pine, into ragged heaps of fallen tree-trunks, and along narrow ledges of rock where it would be thought that a mountain sheep could hardly pass. i would guarantee, with twenty men, to hold that ravine against the combined armies of europe! our packhorses rolled down steep banks into the stream, tore their loads off against tree-trunks, stumbled, cut their legs in falling over broken volcanic rocks, took flying leaps across narrow chasms of roaring water, and performed feats which would have been utterly beyond the strength and endurance of any but kamchatkan horses. finally, in attempting to leap a distance of eight or ten feet across the torrent, i was thrown violently from the saddle, and my left foot caught firmly, just above the instep, in the small iron stirrup. the horse scrambled up the other side and started at a frightened gallop up the ravine, dragging my body over the ground by one leg. i remember making a desperate effort to protect my head, by raising myself upon my elbows, but the horse kicked me suddenly in the side, and i knew nothing more until i found myself lying upon the ground with my foot still entangled in the broken stirrup, while the horse galloped away up the ravine. the giving way of a single strap had saved my skull from being crushed like an egg-shell against the jagged rocks. i was badly bruised and very faint and dizzy, but no bones seemed to be broken, and i got up without assistance. thus far the major had kept his quick temper under strong control; but this was too much, and he hurled the most furious invectives at poor nicolai for leading us over the mountains by such a horrible pass, and threatened him with the direst punishment when we should reach tigil. it was of no use for nicolai to urge in self-defence that there _was_ no other pass; it was his business to _find_ another, and not imperil men's lives by leading them into a god-forsaken ravine like this, choked up with landslides, fallen trees, water, lava, and masses of volcanic rock! if anything happened to any member of our party in this cursed gorge, the major swore he would shoot nicolai on the spot! pale and trembling with fright, the poor guide caught my horse, mended my stirrup strap, and started on ahead to show that he was not afraid to go where he asked us to follow. i believe we must have jumped our horses across that mountain torrent fifty times in an ascent of feet, to avoid the rocks and landslides which appeared first on one side and then on the other. one of our packhorses had given out entirely, and several others were nearly disabled, when, late in the afternoon, we finally reached the summit of the mountains, feet above the sea. before us, half hidden by grey storm-clouds and driving mist, lay a great expanse of level table-land, covered to a depth of eighteen inches with a soft dense cushion of arctic moss, and holding water like an enormous sponge. not a tree nor a landmark of any kind could be seen--nothing but moss and flying scud. a cold piercing wind from the north swept chilly storm-clouds across the desolate mountain top, and drove tiny particles of half-frozen rain into our faces with blinding, stinging force. drenched to the skin by eight or nine hours' exposure to the storm, tired and weak from long climbing, with boots full of icy water, and hands numb and stiff from cold, we stopped for a moment to rest our horses and decide upon our course. brandy was dealt out freely to all our men in the cover of a tin pail, but its stimulating influence was so counteracted by cold that it was hardly perceptible. the poor _starosta_ of yolofka, with dripping clothes, blue lips, chattering teeth, and black hair plastered over his white cheeks, seemed upon the point of giving out. he caught eagerly at the pail-cover full of brandy which the major handed to him, but every limb was shaking spasmodically, and he spilled most of it in getting it to his mouth. fearing that darkness would overtake us before we could reach shelter, we started on toward a deserted, half-ruined "yurt" (yoort) [footnote: a mongolian name for a portable or permanent house-like shelter, made of logs, skins, or felt.] which nicolai said stood near the western edge of this elevated plateau, about eight versts distant. our horses sank to the knee at every step in the soft, spongy cushion of wet moss, so that we could travel no faster than a slow walk, and the short distance of eight versts seemed to be interminable. after four more dreary hours, spent in wandering about through grey drifting clouds, exposed to a bitter north-west wind, and a temperature of just °, we finally arrived in a half-frozen condition at the _yurt_. it was a low, empty hut, nearly square in shape, built of variously sized logs, and banked over with two or three feet of moss and grass-grown earth, so as to resemble an outdoor cellar. half of one side had been torn down by storm-besieged travellers for firewood; its earthen floor was dank and wet with slimy tricklings from its leaky roof; the wind and rain drove with a mournful howl down through its chimney-hole; its door was gone, and it presented altogether a dismal picture of neglected dilapidation. nothing daunted, viushin tore down another section of the ruined side to make a fire, hung over teakettles, and brought our provision boxes under such shelter as the miserable hut afforded. i never could ascertain where viushin obtained the water that night for our tea, as there was no available stream within ten miles, and the drippings of the roof were thick and discoloured with mud. i have more than a suspicion, however, that he squeezed it out of bunches of moss which he tore up from the soaking _tundra_ (toon'-drah). dodd and i took off our boots, poured about a pint of muddy water out of each, dried our feet, and, as the steam rose in clouds from our wet clothes, began to feel quite comfortable. viushin was in high good humour. he had voluntarily assumed the whole charge of our drivers during the day, had distinguished himself by most unwearied efforts in raising fallen horses, getting them over breakneck places, and cheering up the disconsolate kamchadals, and he now wrung the water out of his shirt, and squeezed his wet hair absent-mindedly into a kettle of soup, with a countenance of such beaming serenity and a laugh of such hearty good-nature that it was of no use for anybody to pretend to be cross, tired, cold, or hungry. with that sunny face irradiating the smoky atmosphere of the ruined _yurt_, and that laugh ringing joyously in our ears, we made fun of our misery and persuaded ourselves that we were having a good time. after a scanty supper of _selánka_, dried fish, hardtack, and tea, we stretched our tired bodies out in the shallowest puddles we could find, covered ourselves with blankets, overcoats, oilcloths, and bearskins, and succeeded, in spite of our wet clothes and wetter beds, in getting to sleep. [illustration: horn spoon] [illustration: drinking vessel made of horn] chapter xiii. a dismal night--crossing the kamchatkan divide--another bear hunt--breakneck riding--tigil--steppes of northern kamchatka i awoke about midnight with cold feet and shivering limbs. the fire on the wet muddy ground had died away to a few smouldering embers, which threw a red glow over the black, smoky logs, and sent occasional gleams of flickering light into the dark recesses of the _yurt_. the wind howled mournfully around the hut, and the rain beat with intermittent dashes against the logs and trickled through a hundred crevices upon my already water-soaked blankets. i raised myself upon one elbow and looked around. the hut was deserted, and i was alone. for a moment of half-awakened consciousness i could not imagine where i was, or how i came in such a strange, gloomy situation; but presently the recollection of the previous day's ride came back and i went to the door to see what had become of all our party. i found that the major and dodd, with all the kamchadals, had pitched tents upon the spongy moss outside, and were spending the night there, instead of remaining in the _yurt_ and having their clothes and blankets spoiled by the muddy droppings of its leaky roof. the tents were questionable improvements; but i agreed with them in preferring clean water to mud, and gathering up my bedding i crawled in by the side of dodd. the wind blew the tent down once during the night, and left us exposed for a few moments to the storm; but it was repitched in defiance of the wind, ballasted with logs torn from the sides of the _yurt_, and we managed to sleep after a fashion until morning. we were a melancholy-looking party when we emerged from the tent at daylight. dodd looked ruefully at his wet blankets, made a comical grimace as he felt of his water-soaked clothes, and then declared that "the weather was not what he knew it once-- the nights were terribly damp; and he never was free from the rheumatiz except when he had the cramp!" in which poetical lament we all heartily sympathised if we did not join. our wet, low-spirited horses were saddled at daylight; and as the storm showed signs of a disposition to break away, we started again, immediately after breakfast, for the western edge of the high table-land which here formed the summit of the mountain range. the scenery from this point in clear weather must be magnificent, as it overlooks the tigil valley and the okhotsk sea on one side, and the pacific ocean, the valleys of the yolofka and the kamchatka, and the grand peaks of suveilich and kluchefskoi on the other. we caught occasional glimpses, through openings in the mist, of the yolofka river, thousands of feet below, and the smoke-plumed head of the distant volcano, floating in a great sea of bluish clouds; but a new detachment of straggling vapours from the okhotsk sea came drifting across the mountain-top, and breaking furiously in our faces, blotted out everything except the mossy ground, over which plodded our tired, dispirited horses. it did not seem possible that human beings could live, or would care to live, on this desolate plain of moss, feet above the sea, enveloped half the time in drifting clouds, and swept by frequent storms of rain and snow. but even here the wandering koraks herd their hardy reindeer, set up their smoky tent-poles, and bid contemptuous defiance to the elements. three or four times during the day we passed heaps of reindeer's antlers, and piles of ashes surrounded by large circles of evergreen twigs, which marked the sites of korak tents; but the band of wild nomads which had left these traces had long before disappeared, and was now perhaps herding its deer on the wind-swept shores of the arctic ocean. owing to the dense mist in which we were constantly enveloped we could get no clear ideas as to the formation of the mountain range over which we were passing, or the extent and nature of this great plain of moss which lay so high up among extinct volcanic peaks. i only know that just before noon we left the _tundra_, as this kind of moss steppe is called, and descended gradually into a region of the wildest, rockiest character, where all vegetation disappeared except a few stunted patches of trailing-pine. for at least ten miles the ground was covered everywhere with loose slab-shaped masses of igneous rock, varying in size from five cubic feet to five hundred, and lying one upon another in the greatest disorder. the heavens at some unknown geological period seemed to have showered down huge volcanic paving-stones, until the earth was covered fifty feet deep with their broken fragments. nearly all of these masses had two smooth flat sides, and resembled irregular slices of some black plutonian pudding hardened into stone. i was not familiar enough with volcanic phenomena to be able to decide in what manner or by what agency the earth had been thus overwhelmed with loose rocky slabs; but it looked precisely as if great sheets of solidified lava had fallen successively from the sky, and had been shattered, as they struck the earth, into millions of angular slabs. i thought of scott's description of the place where bruce and the lord of the isles landed after leaving the castle of lorn, as the only one i had ever read which gave me an idea of such a scene. we drank tea at noon on the west side of this rocky wilderness, and before night reached a spot where bushes, grass, and berries again made their appearance. we camped in a storm of wind and rain, and at daybreak on the st continued our descent of the western slope of the mountains. early in the forenoon we were inspirited by the sight of fresh men and horses which had been sent out to meet us from a native village called sidanka (see-dahn'-kah), and exchanging our tired, lame, and disheartened animals for these fresh recruits, we pushed rapidly on. the weather soon cleared up warm and bright, the trail wound around among the rolling foot-hills through groves of yellow birch and scarlet mountain ash, and as the sun gradually dried our water-soaked clothes, and brought a pleasant glow of returning circulation to our chilled limbs, we forgot the rain and dreary desolation of the mountain-top and recovered our usual buoyancy of spirit. i have once before, i believe, given the history of a bear hunt in which our party participated while crossing the kamchatka _tundra_; but as that was a mere skirmish, which did not reflect any great credit upon the individuals concerned, i am tempted to relate one more bear adventure which befell us among the foot-hills of the tigil mountains. it shall be positively the last. ye who listen with credulity to the stories of hunters, and pursue with eagerness the traces of bears; who expect that courage will rise with the emergency and that the deficiencies of bravery will be supplied by the tightness of the fix, attend to the history of rasselas, an inexperienced bear-slayer. about noon, as we were making our way along the edge of a narrow grassy valley, bordered by a dense forest of birch, larch, and pine, one of our drivers suddenly raised the cry of _medveid_, and pointed eagerly down the valley to a large black bear rambling carelessly through the long grass in search of blueberries, and approaching gradually nearer and nearer to our side of the ravine. he evidently had not yet seen us, and a party to attack him was soon made up of two kamchadals, the major, and myself, all armed to the teeth with rifles, axes, revolvers, and knives. creeping cautiously around through the timber, we succeeded in gaining unobserved a favourable position at the edge of the woods directly in front of his bruinic majesty, and calmly awaited his approach. intent upon making a meal of blueberries, and entirely unconscious of his impending fate, he waddled slowly and awkwardly up to within fifty yards. the karnchadals kneeled down, threw forward their long heavy rifles, fixed their sharp-pronged rests firmly in the ground, crossed themselves devoutly three times, drew a long breath, took a deadly and deliberate aim, shut their eyes, and fired. the silence was broken by a long fizzle, during which the kamchadals conscientiously kept their eyes shut, and finally a terrific bang announced the catastrophe, followed immediately by two more sharp reports from the rifles of the major and myself. as the smoke cleared away i looked eagerly to see the brute kicking around in the agonies of death; but what was my amazement to find that instead of kicking around in the agonies of death, as a beast with any sense of propriety _would_ after such a fusillade, the perverse animal was making directly for us at a gallop! here was a variation introduced that was not down in the programme! we had made no calculations upon a counter-attack, and the ferocity of his appearance, as he came tearing through the bushes, left no room for doubt as to the seriousness of his intentions. i tried to think of some historic precedent which would justify me in climbing a tree; but my mind was in a state of such agitation that i could not avail myself of my extensive historical knowledge. "a man may know the seven portions of the koran by heart, but when a bear gets after him he will not be able to remember his alphabet!" what we should have done in the last extremity will never be known. a shot from the major's revolver seemed to alter the bear's original plan of operations, and, swerving suddenly to one side, he crashed through the bushes ten feet from the muzzles of our empty rifles, and disappeared in the forest. a careful examination of the leaves and grass failed to reveal any signs of blood, and we were reluctantly forced to the conclusion that he escaped unscathed. hunting a bear with a russian rifle is a very pleasant and entirely harmless diversion. the animal has plenty of time, after the gun begins to fizzle, to eat a hearty dinner of blueberries, run fifteen miles across a range of mountains into a neighbouring province, and get comfortably asleep in his hole before the deadly explosion takes place! it would have been unsafe for any one to suggest "bear steaks" to the major or me at any time during the succeeding week. we camped for the night under the huge spreading branches of a gnarled birch, a few versts from the scene of our exploit, and early friday morning were off for sidanka. when about fifteen versts from the village dodd suggested a gallop, to try the mettle of our horses and warm our blood. as we were both well mounted, i challenged him to a steeplechase as far as the settlement. of all the reckless breakneck riding that we ever did in kamchatka, this was the worst. the horses soon became as excited as their riders, and tore through the bushes and leaped over ravines, logs, rocks, and swamps with a perfect frenzy. once i was dragged from my saddle by the catching of my rifle against a limb, and several times we both narrowly escaped knocking our brains out against trees. as we approached the town we saw three or four kamchadals cutting wood a short distance ahead. dodd gave a terrifying shout like a sioux war-whoop, put spurs to his horse, and we came upon them like a thunderbolt. at the sight of two swarthy strangers in blue hunting-shirts, top-boots, and red caps, with pistols belted around their waists, and knives dangling at their girdles, charging down upon them like mamelukes at the battle of the pyramids, the poor kamchadals flung away their axes and fled for their lives to the woods. except when i was dragged off my horse, we never once drew rein until our animals stood panting and foaming in the village. if you wish to draw a flash of excitement from dodd's eyes, ask him if he remembers the steeplechase to sidanka. that night we floated down the tigil river to tigil, where we arrived just at dark, having accomplished in sixteen days a journey of eleven hundred and thirty versts. my recollections of tigil are somewhat vague and indefinite. i remember that i was impressed with the inordinate quantities of champagne, cherry cordial, white rum, and "vodka" which its russian inhabitants were capable of drinking, and thought that tigil was a somewhat less ugly village than the generality of kamchatkan towns, but nothing more. next to petropavlovsk, however, it is the most important settlement in the peninsula, and is the trading centre of the whole western coast. a russian supply steamer and an american trading vessel touch at the mouth of the tigil river every summer, and leave large quantities of rye flour, tea, sugar, cloth, copper kettles, tobacco, and strong russian vodka, for distribution through the peninsula. the brágans, vorrebeoffs (vor-re-be-offs'), and two or three other trading firms make it headquarters, and it is the winter rendezvous of many of the northern tribes of chukchis and koraks. as we should pass no other trading post until we reached the settlement of gizhiga (gee'-zhee-gah'), at the head of the okhotsk sea, we determined to remain a few days at tigil to rest and refit. we were now about to enter upon what we feared would prove the most difficult part of our journey--both on account of the nature of the country and the lateness of the season. only seven more kamchadal towns lay between us and the steppes of the wandering koraks, and we had not yet been able to think of any plan of crossing these inhospitable wastes before the winter's snows should make them passable on reindeer-sledges. it is difficult for one who has had no experience of northern life to get from a mere verbal description a clear idea of a siberian moss steppe, or to appreciate fully the nature and extent of the obstacles which it presents to summer travel. it is by no means easy to cross, even in winter, when it is frozen and covered with snow; but in summer it becomes practically impassable. for three or four hundred square miles the eternally frozen ground is covered to a depth of two feet with a dense luxuriant growth of soft, spongy arctic moss, saturated with water, and sprinkled here and there with little hillocks of stunted blueberry bushes and clusters of labrador tea. it never dries up, never becomes hard enough to afford stable footing. prom june to september it is a great, soft, quaking cushion of wet moss. the foot may sink in it to the knee, but as soon as the pressure is removed it rises again with spongy elasticity, and no trace is left of the step. walking over it is precisely like walking over an enormous wet sponge. the causes which produce this extraordinary, and apparently abnormal, growth of moss are those which exercise the most powerful influence over the development of vegetation everywhere,--viz., heat, light, and moisture,--and these agencies, in a northern climate, are so combined and intensified during the summer months as to stimulate some kinds of vegetation into almost tropical luxuriance. the earth thaws out in spring to an average depth of perhaps two feet, and below that point there is a thick, impenetrable layer of solid frost. the water produced by the melting of the winter's snows is prevented by this stratum of frozen ground from sinking any farther into the earth, and has no escape except by slow evaporation. it therefore saturates the cushion of moss on the surface, and, aided by the almost perpetual sunlight of june and july, excites it to a rapid and wonderfully luxuriant growth. it will readily be seen that travel in summer, over a great steppe covered with soft elastic moss, and soaking with water, is a very difficult if not absolutely impracticable undertaking. a horse sinks to his knees in the spongy surface at every step, and soon becomes exhausted by the severe exertion which such walking necessitates. we had had an example of such travel upon the summit of the yolofka pass, and it was not strange that we should look forward with considerable anxiety to crossing the great moss steppes of the koraks in the northern part of the peninsula. it would have been wiser, perhaps, for us to wait patiently at tigil until the establishment of winter travel upon dog-sledges; but the major feared that the chief engineer of the enterprise might have landed a party of men in the dangerous region around bering strait, and he was anxious to get where he could find out something about it as soon as possible. he determined, therefore, to push on at all hazards to the frontier of the korak steppes, and then cross them on horses, if possible. a whale-boat was purchased at tigil, and forwarded with a native crew to lesnoi, so that in case we failed to get over the korak steppes we might cross the head of the okhotsk sea to gizhiga by water before the setting in of winter. provisions, trading-goods, and fur clothes of all sorts were purchased and packed away in skin boxes, and every preparation made which our previous experience could suggest for rough life and bad weather. [illustration: drill] chapter xiv okhotsk seacoast--lesnoi--the "devil's pass"--lost in snow-storm--saved by brass box--wild scene on wednesday, september th, we again took the field, with two cossacks, a korak interpreter, eight or ten men, and fourteen horses. a little snow fell on the day previous to our departure, but it did not materially affect the road, and only served as a warning to us that winter was at hand, and we should not expect much more pleasant weather. we made our way as rapidly as possible along the coast of the okhotsk sea, partly on the beach under the cliffs, and partly over low wooded hills and valleys, extending down to the coast from the central mountain range. we passed the settlements of amanina (ah-man'-in-ah), vaempolka (vah-yem'-pol-kah), kakhtana (kakh'-tan-ah'), and polan (po-lahn'), changing horses and men at every village and finally, on the d of october, reached lesnoi--the last kamchadal settlement in the peninsula. lesnoi was situated, as nearly as we could ascertain, in lat. ° ', long. ° ', about a hundred and fifty versts south of the korak steppes, and nearly two hundred miles in an air line from the settlement of gizhiga, which for the present was our objective point. we had hitherto experienced little difficulty in making our way through the peninsula, as we had been especially favoured by weather, and there had been few natural obstacles to stop or delay our progress. now, however, we were about to enter a wilderness which was entirely uninhabited, and little known even to our kamchadal guides. north of lesnoi the great central range of the kamchatka mountains broke off abruptly into the okhotsk sea, in a long line of tremendous precipices, and interposed a great rugged wall between us and the steppes of the wandering koraks. this mountain range was very difficult to pass with horses, even in midsummer, and was of course infinitely worse now, when the mountain streams were swollen by the fall rains into foaming torrents, and the storms which herald the approach of winter might be at any moment expected. the kamchadals at lesnoi declared positively that it was of no use to attempt to cross this range until the rivers should freeze over and snow enough fall to permit the use of dog-sledges, and that they were not willing to risk fifteen or twenty horses, to say nothing of their own lives, in any such adventure. the major told them, in language more expressive than polite, that he didn't believe a word of any such yarn; that the mountains had to be crossed, and that go they must and should. they had evidently never had to deal before with any such determined, self-willed individual as the major proved to be, and, after some consultation among themselves, they agreed to make the attempt with eight unloaded horses, leaving all our baggage and heavy equipage at lesnoi. this the major at first would not listen to; but after thinking the situation over he decided to divide our small force into two parties--one to go around the mountains by water with the whale-boat and heavy baggage, and one over them with twenty unloaded horses. the road over the mountains was supposed to lie near the seacoast, so that the land party would be most of the time within signalling distance of the whale-boat, and in case either party met with any accident or found its progress stopped by unforeseen obstacles the other could come to its assistance. near the middle of the mountainous tract, just west of the principal ridge, there was said to be a small river called the samanka (sa-mahn'-kah), and the mouth of this river was agreed upon as a rendezvous for the two parties in case they lost sight of each other during storms or foggy weather. the major decided to go with dodd in the whale-boat, and gave me command of the land party, consisting of our best cossack, viushin, six kamchadals, and twenty light horses. flags were made, a code of signals was agreed upon, the heavy baggage was transferred to the whale-boat and a large sealskin canoe, and early on the morning of october th i bade the major and dodd good-bye at the beach, and they pushed off. we started up our train of horses as the boats disappeared around a projecting bluff, and cantered away briskly across the valley toward a gap in the mountains, through which we entered the "wilderness." the road for the first ten or fifteen versts was very good; but i was surprised to find that, instead of leading us along the seashore, it went directly back into the mountains away from the sea, and i began to fear that our arrangements for cooperation would be of little avail. thinking that the whale-boat would not probably get far the first day under oars and without wind, we encamped early in a narrow valley between two parallel ranges of mountains. i tried, by climbing a low mountain back of our tent, to get a sight of the sea; but we were at least fifteen versts from the coast, and the view was limited by an intervening range of rugged peaks, many of which reach the altitude of perpetual snow. it was rather lonely to camp that night without seeing dodd's cheerful face by the fireside, and i missed more than i thought i should the lively sallies, comical stories and good-humoured pleasantry which had hitherto brightened the long hours of camp life. if dodd could have read my thoughts that evening, as i sat in solitary majesty by the fireside, he would have been satisfied that his society was not unappreciated, nor his absence unfelt. viushin took especial pains with the preparation of my supper, and did the best he could, poor fellow, to enliven the solitary meal with stories and funny reminiscences of kamchatkan travel; but the venison cutlets had lost somehow their usual savour, and the russian jokes and stories i could not understand. after supper i lay down upon my bearskins in the tent, and fell asleep watching the round moon rise over a ragged volcanic peak east of the valley. on the second day we travelled through a narrow tortuous valley among the mountains, over spongy swamps of moss, and across deep narrow creeks, until we reached a ruined subterranean hut nearly half way from lesnoi to the samanka river. here we ate a lunch of dried fish and hardbread, and started again up the valley in a heavy rain-storm, surrounded on all sides by rocks, snow-capped mountains, and extinct volcanic peaks. the road momentarily grew worse. the valley narrowed gradually to a wild rocky cañon, a hundred and fifty feet in depth, at the bottom of which ran a swollen mountain torrent, foaming around sharp black rocks, and falling over ledges of lava in magnificent cascades. along the black precipitous sides of this "devil's pass" there did not seem to be footing for a chamois; but our guide said that he had been through it many times before, and dismounting from his horse he cautiously led the way along a narrow rocky ledge in the face of the cliff which i had not before noticed. over this we carefully made our way, now descending nearly to the water's edge, and then rising again until the roaring stream was fifty feet below, and we could drop stones from our outstretched arms directly into the boiling, foaming waters. presuming too much upon the sagacity of a sure-footed horse, i carelessly attempted the passage of the ravine without dismounting, and came near paying the penalty of my rashness by a violent death. about half way through, where the trail was only eight or ten feet above the bed of the torrent, the ledge, or a portion of it, gave way under my horse's feet, and we went down together in a struggling mass upon the rocks in the channel of the stream. i had taken the precaution to disengage my feet from the treacherous iron stirrups, and as we fell i threw myself toward the face of the cliff so as to avoid being crushed by my horse. the fall was not a very long one, and i came down uppermost, but narrowly escaped having my head broken by my animal's hoofs as he struggled to regain his feet. he was somewhat cut and bruised, but not seriously hurt, and tightening the saddle-girth i waded along through the water, leading him after me until i was able to regain the path. then climbing into the saddle again, with dripping clothes and somewhat shaken nerves, i rode on. just before dark we reached a point where further progress in that direction seemed to be absolutely cut off by a range of high mountains which ran directly across the valley. it was the central ridge of the samanka mountains. i looked around with a glance of inquiring surprise at the guide, who pointed directly over the range, and said that there lay our road. a forest of birch extended about half way up the mountain side, and was succeeded by low evergreen bushes, trailing-pine, and finally by bare black rocks rising high over all, where not even the hardy reindeer-moss could find soil enough to bury its roots. i no longer wondered at the positive declaration of the kamchadals, that with loaded horses it would be impossible to cross, and began to doubt whether it could be done even with light horses. it looked very dubious to me, accustomed as i was to rough climbing and mountain roads. i decided to camp at once where we were, and obtain as much rest as possible, so that we and our horses would be fresh for the hard day's work which evidently lay before us. night closed in early and gloomily, the rain still falling in torrents, so that we had no opportunity of drying our wet clothes. i longed for a drink of brandy to warm my chilled blood, but my pocket flask had been forgotten in the hurry of our departure from lesnoi, and i was obliged to content myself with the milder stimulus of hot tea. my bedding, having been wrapped up in an oilcloth blanket, was fortunately dry, and crawling feet first, wet as i was, into my bearskin bag, and covering up warmly with heavy blankets, i slept in comparative comfort. viushin waked me early in the morning with the announcement that it was snowing. i rose hastily and putting aside the canvas of the tent looked out. that which i most dreaded had happened. a driving snowstorm was sweeping down the valley, and nature had assumed suddenly the stern aspect and white pitiless garb of winter. snow had already fallen to a depth of three inches in the valley, and on the mountains, of course, it would be deep, soft, and drifted. i hesitated for a moment about attempting to cross the rugged range in such weather; but my orders were imperative to go on at least to the samanka river, and a failure to do so might defeat the object of the whole expedition. previous experience convinced me that the major would not let a storm interfere with the execution of his plans; and if he should succeed in reaching the samanka river and i should not, i never could recover from the mortification of the failure, nor be able to convince him that anglo-saxon blood was as good as slavonic. i reluctantly gave the order therefore to break camp, and as soon as the horses could be collected and saddled we started for the base of the mountain range. hardly had we ascended two hundred feet out of the shelter of the valley before we were met by a hurricane of wind from the northeast, which swept blinding, suffocating clouds of snow down the slope into our faces until earth and sky seemed mingled and lost in a great white whirling mist. the ascent soon became so steep and rocky that we could no longer ride our horses up it. we therefore dismounted, and wading laboriously through deep soft drifts, and climbing painfully over sharp jagged rocks, which cut open our sealskin boots, we dragged our horses slowly upward. we had ascended wearily in this way perhaps a thousand feet, when i became so exhausted that i was compelled to lie down. the snow in many places was drifted as high as my waist, and my horse refused to take a step until he was absolutely dragged to it. after a rest of a few moments we pushed on, and after another hour of hard work we succeeded in gaining what seemed to be the crest of the mountain, perhaps feet above the sea. here the fury of the wind was almost irresistible. dense clouds of driving snow hid everything from sight at a distance of a few steps, and we seemed to be standing on a fragment of a wrecked world enveloped in a whirling tempest of stinging snowflakes. now and then a black volcanic crag, inaccessible as the peak of the matterhorn, would loom out in the white mist far above our heads, as if suspended in mid-air, giving a startling momentary wildness to the scene; then it would disappear again in flying snow, and leave us staring blindly into vacancy. a long fringe of icicles hung round the visor of my cap, and my clothes, drenched with the heavy rain of the previous day, froze into a stiff crackling armour of ice upon my body. blinded by the snow, with benumbed limbs and chattering teeth, i mounted my horse and let him go where he would, only entreating the guide to hurry and get down somewhere off from this exposed position. he tried in vain to compel his horse to face the storm. neither shouts nor blows could force him to turn round, and he was obliged finally to ride along the crest of the mountain to the eastward. we went down into a comparatively sheltered valley, up again upon another ridge higher than the first, around the side of a conical peak where the wind blew with great force, down into another deep ravine and up still another ridge, until i lost entirely the direction of our route and the points of the compass, and had not the slightest idea where we were going. i only knew that we were half frozen and in a perfect wilderness of mountains. i had noticed several times within half an hour that our guide was holding frequent and anxious consultations with the other kamchadals about our road, and that he seemed to be confused and in doubt as to the direction in which we ought to go. he now came to me with a gloomy face, and confessed that we were lost. i could not blame the poor fellow for losing the road in such a storm, but i told him to go on in what he believed to be the direction of the samanka river, and if we succeeded in finding somewhere a sheltered valley we would camp and wait for better weather. i wished to caution him also against riding accidentally over the edges of precipices in the blinding snow, but i could not speak russian enough to make myself understood. we wandered on aimlessly for two hours, over ridges, up peaks, and down into shallow valleys, getting deeper and deeper apparently into the heart of the mountains but finding no shelter from the storm. it became evident that something must be done, or we should all freeze to death. i finally called the guide, told him i would take the lead myself, and opening my little pocket compass, showed him the direction of the sea-coast. in that direction i determined to go until we should come out somewhere. he looked in stupid wonder for a moment at the little brass box with its trembling needle, and then cried out despairingly, "oh, barin! how does the come-_páss_ know anything about these accursed mountains? the come-_páss_ never has been over this road before. i've travelled here all my life, and, god forgive me, i don't know where the sea is!" hungry, anxious, and half frozen as i was, i could not help smiling at our guide's idea of an inexperienced compass which had never travelled in kamchatka, and could not therefore know anything about the road. i assured him confidently that the "come-_páss_" was a great expert at finding the sea in a storm; but he shook his head mournfully, as if he had little faith in its abilities, and refused to go in the direction that i indicated. finding it impossible to make my horse face the wind, i dismounted, and, compass in hand, led him away in the direction of the sea, followed by viushin, who, with an enormous bearskin wrapped around his head, looked like some wild animal. the guide, seeing that we were determined to trust in the compass, finally concluded to go with us. our progress was necessarily very slow, as the snow was deep, our limbs chilled and stiffened by their icy covering, and a hurricane of wind blowing in our faces. about the middle of the afternoon, however, we came suddenly out upon the very brink of a storm-swept precipice a hundred and fifty feet in depth, against the base of which the sea was hurling tremendous green breakers with a roar that drowned the rushing noise of the wind. i had never imagined so wild and lonely a scene. behind and around us lay a wilderness of white, desolate peaks, crowded together under a grey, pitiless sky, with here and there a patch of trailing-pine, or a black pinnacle of trap-rock, to intensify by contrast the ghastly whiteness and desolation of the weird snowy mountains. in front, but far below, was the troubled sea, rolling mysteriously out of a grey mist of snowflakes, breaking in thick sheets of clotted froth against the black cliff, and making long reverberations, and hollow, gurgling noises in the subterranean caverns which it had hollowed out. snow, water, and mountains, and in the foreground a little group of ice-covered men and shaggy horses, staring at the sea from the summit of a mighty cliff! it was a simple picture, but it was full of cheerless, mournful suggestions. our guide, after looking eagerly up and down the gloomy precipitous coast in search of some familiar landmark, finally turned to me with a brighter face, and asked to see the compass. i unscrewed the cover and showed him the blue quivering needle still pointing to the north. he examined it curiously, but with evident respect for its mysterious powers, and at last said that it was truly a "great master," and wanted to know if it always pointed toward the sea! i tried to explain to him its nature and use, but i could not make him understand, and he walked away firmly believing that there was something uncanny and supernatural about a little brass box that could point out the road to the sea in a country where it had never before been! we pushed on to the northward throughout the afternoon, keeping as near the coast as possible, winding around among the thickly scattered peaks and crossing no less than nine low ridges of the mountain range. i noticed throughout the day the peculiar phenomenon of which i had read in tyndall's _glaciers of the alps_--the blue light which seemed to fill every footprint and little crevice in the snow. the hole made by a long slender stick was fairly luminous with what appeared to be deep blue vapour. i never saw this singular phenomenon so marked at any other time during nearly three years of northern travel. about an hour after dark we rode down into a deep lonely valley, which came out, our guide said, upon the sea beach near the mouth of the samanka river. here no snow had fallen, but it was raining heavily. i thought it hardly possible that the major and dodd could have reached the appointed rendezvous in such a storm; but i directed the men to pitch the tent, while viushin and i rode on to the mouth of the river to ascertain whether the whale-boat had arrived or not. it was too dark to see anything distinctly, but we found no evidence that human beings had ever been there, and returned disappointed to camp. we were never more glad to get under a tent, eat supper, and crawl into our bearskin sleeping-bags, than after that exhausting day's work. our clothes had been either wet or frozen for nearly forty-eight hours, and we had been fourteen hours on foot and in the saddle, without warm food or rest. [illustration: wooden cup] chapter xv cut off by storm--starvation threatened--race with a rising tide--two days without food--return to lesnoi early saturday morning we moved on to the mouth of the valley, pitched our tent in a position to command a view of the approaches to the samanka river, ballasted its edges with stones to keep the wind from blowing it down, and prepared to wait two days, according to orders, for the whale-boat. the storm still continued, and the heavy sea, which dashed sullenly all day against the black rocks under our tent, convinced me that nothing could be expected from the other party. i only hoped that they had succeeded in getting safely landed somewhere before the storm began. caught by a gale under the frowning wall of rock which stretched for miles along the coast, the whale-boat, i knew, must either swamp with all on board, or be dashed to pieces against the cliffs. in either case not a soul could escape to tell the story. that night viushin astonished and almost disheartened me with the news that we were eating the last of our provisions. there was no more meat, and the hardbread which remained was only a handful of water-soaked crumbs. he and all the kamchadals, confidently expecting to meet the whale-boat at the samanka river, had taken only three days' food. he had said nothing about it until the last moment, hoping that the whale-boat would arrive or something turn up; but it could no longer be concealed. we were three days' journey from any settlement, and without food. how we were to get back to lesnoi i did not know, as the mountains were probably impassable now, on account of the snow which had fallen since we crossed, and the weather did not permit us to indulge a hope that the whale-boat would ever come. much as we dreaded it, there was nothing to be done but to attempt another passage of the mountain range, and that without a moment's delay. i had been ordered to wait for the whale-boat two days; but circumstances, i thought, justified a disobedience of orders, and i directed the kamchadals to be ready to start for lesnoi early the next morning. then, writing a note to the major, and enclosing it in a tin can, to be left on the site of our camp, i crawled into my fur bag to sleep and get strength for another struggle with the mountains. the following morning was cold and stormy, and the snow was still falling in the mountains, and heavy rain in the valley. we broke camp at daylight, saddled our horses, distributed what little baggage we had among them, as equally as possible, and made every preparation for deep snow and hard climbing. our guide, after a short consultation with his comrades, now came to me and proposed that we abandon our plan of crossing the mountains as wholly impracticable, and try instead to make our way along the narrow strip of beach which the ebbing tide would leave bare at the foot of the cliffs. this plan, he contended, was no more dangerous than attempting to cross the mountains, and was much more certain of success, as there were only a few points where at low water a horse could not pass with dry feet. it was not more than thirty miles to a ravine on the south side of the mountain range, through which we could, leave the beach and regain our old trail at a point within one hard day's ride of lesnoi. the only danger was in being caught by high water before we could reach this ravine, and even then we might save ourselves by climbing up on the rocks, and abandoning our horses to their fate. it would be no worse for them than starving and freezing to death in the mountains. divested of its verbal plausibility, his plan was nothing more nor less than a grand thirty-mile race with a high tide along a narrow beach, from which all escape was cut off by precipitous cliffs one and two hundred feet in height. if we reached the ravine in time, all would be well; but if not, our beach would be covered ten feet deep with water, and our horses, if not ourselves, would be swept away like corks. there was a recklessness and dash about this proposal which made it very attractive when compared with wading laboriously through snow-drifts, in frozen clothes, without anything to eat, and i gladly agreed to it, and credited our guide with more sense and spirit than i had ever before seen exhibited by a kamchadal. the tide was now only beginning to ebb, and we had three or four hours to spare before it would be low enough to start. this time the kamchadals improved by catching one of the dogs which had accompanied us from lesnoi, killing him in a cold-blooded way with their long knives, and offering his lean body as a sacrifice to the evil spirit, in whose jurisdiction these infernal mountains were supposed to be. the poor animal was cut open, his entrails taken out and thrown to the four corners of the earth, and his body suspended by the neck from the top of a long pole set perpendicularly in the ground. the evil spirit's wrath, however, seemed implacable, for it stormed worse after the performance of these propitiatory rites than it did before. this did not weaken at all the faith of the kamchadals in the efficacy of their atonement. if the storm did not abate, it was only because an unbelieving american with a diabolical brass box called a "come-_pass'_" had insisted upon crossing the mountains in defiance of the _genius loci_ and all his tempestuous warnings. one dead dog was no compensation at all for such a sacrilegious violation of the evil spirit's clearly expressed wishes! the sacrifice, however, seemed to relieve the natives' anxiety about their own safety; and, much as i pitied the poor dog thus ruthlessly slaughtered, i was glad to see the manifest improvement which it worked in the spirits of my superstitious comrades. about ten o'clock, as nearly as i could estimate the time without a watch, our guide examined the beach and said we must be off; we would have between four and five hours to reach the ravine. we mounted in hot haste, and set out at a swinging gallop along the beach, overshadowed by tremendous black cliffs on one side, and sprinkled with salt spray from the breakers on the other. great masses of green, slimy seaweed, shells, water-soaked driftwood, and thousands of medusas, which had been thrown up by the storm, lay strewn in piles along the beach; but we dashed through and over them at a mad gallop, never drawing rein for an instant except to pick our way among enormous masses of rock, which in some places had caved away from the summit of the cliff and blocked up the beach with grey barnacle-encrusted fragments as large as freight-cars. we had got over the first eighteen miles in splendid style, when viushin, who was riding in advance, stopped suddenly, with an abruptness which nearly threw him over his horse's head, and raised the familiar cry of "medveidi! medveidi! dva." bears they certainly seemed to be, making their way along the beach a quarter of a mile or so ahead; but how bears came in that desperate situation, where they must inevitably be drowned in the course of two or three hours, we could not conjecture. it made little difference to us, however, for the bears were there and we must pass. it was a clear case of breakfast for one party or the other. there could be no dodging or getting around, for the cliffs and the sea left us a narrow road. i slipped a fresh cartridge into my rifle and a dozen more into my pocket; viushin dropped a couple of balls into his double-barrelled fowling-piece, and we crept forward behind the rocks to get a shot at them, if possible, before we should be seen. we were almost within rifle range when viushin suddenly straightened up with a loud laugh, and cried out, "liudi"--"they are people." coming out from behind the rocks, i saw clearly that they were. but how came people there? two natives, dressed in fur coats and trousers, approached us with violent gesticulations, shouting to us in russian not to shoot, and holding up something white, like a flag of truce. as soon as they came near enough one of them handed me a wet, dirty piece of paper, with a low bow, and i recognised him as a kamchadal from lesnoi. they were messengers from the major! thanking god in my heart that the other party was safe, i tore open the note and read hastily: sea shore, versts from lesnoi, october th. driven ashore here by the storm. hurry back as fast as possible. s. abaza. the kamchadal messengers had left lesnoi only one day behind us, but had been detained by the storm and bad roads, and had only reached on the previous night our second camp. finding it impossible to cross the mountains on account of the snow, they had abandoned their horses, and were trying to reach the samanka river on foot by way of the sea beach. they did not expect to do it in one tide but intended to take refuge on high rocks during the flood, and resume their journey as soon as the beach should be left bare by the receding water. there was no time for any more explanations. the tide was running in rapidly, and we must make twelve miles in a little over an hour, or lose our horses. we mounted the tired, wet kamchadals on two of our spare animals, and were off again at a gallop. the situation grew more and more exciting as we approached the ravine. at the end of every projecting bluff the water was higher and higher, and in several places it had already touched with foam and spray the foot of the cliffs. in twenty minutes more the beach would be impassable. our horses held out nobly, and the ravine was only a short distance ahead--only one more projecting bluff intervened. against this the sea was already beginning to break, but we galloped past through several feet of water, and in five minutes drew rein at the mouth of the ravine. it had been a hard ride, but we had won the race with a clear ten minutes to spare, and were now on the southern side of the snowy mountain range, less than sixty miles from lesnoi. had it not been for our guide's good sense and boldness we should still have been floundering through the snow, and losing our way among the bewildering peaks, ten miles south of the samanka river. the ravine up which our road lay was badly choked with massive rocks, patches of trailing-pine, and dense thickets of alder, and it cost us two hours' more hard work to cut a trail through it with axes. before dark, however, we had reached the site of our second day's camp, and about midnight we arrived at the ruined _yurt_ where we had eaten lunch five days before. exhausted by fourteen hours' riding without rest or food, we could go no farther. i had hoped to get something to eat from the kamchadal messengers from lesnoi, but was disappointed to find that their provisions had been exhausted the previous day. viushin scraped a small handful of dirty crumbs out of our empty bread-bag, fried them in a little blubber, which i suppose he had brought to grease his gun with, and offered them to me; but, hungry as i was, i could not eat the dark, greasy mass, and he divided it by mouthfuls among the kamchadals. the second day's ride without food was a severe trial of my strength, and i began to be tormented by a severe gnawing, burning pain in my stomach. i tried to quiet it by eating seeds from the cones of trailing-pine and drinking large quantities of water; but this afforded no relief, and i became so faint toward evening that i could hardly sit in my saddle. about two hours after dark we heard the howling of dogs from lesnoi, and twenty minutes later we rode into the settlement, dashed up to the little log house of the _starosta_, and burst in upon the major and dodd as they sat at supper. our long ride was over. thus ended our unsuccessful expedition to the samanka mountains--the hardest journey i ever experienced in kamchatka. two days afterward, the anxiety and suffering which the major had endured in a five days' camp on the sea beach during the storm, brought on a severe attack of rheumatic fever, and all thoughts of farther progress were for the present abandoned. nearly all the horses in the village were more or less disabled, our samanka mountain guide was blind from inflammatory erysipelas brought on by exposure to five days of storm, and half my party were unfit for duty. under such circumstances, another attempt to cross the mountains before winter was impossible. dodd and the cossack meranef (mer-ah'-nef) were sent back to tigil after a physician and a new supply of provisions, while viushin and i remained at lesnoi to take care of the major. [illustration: stone lamps] chapter xvi kamchatkan nights' entertainments--character of people--salmon-fishing-- sable-trapping--kamchadal language--native music--dog-driving--winter dress after our unsuccessful attempt to pass the samanka mountains, there was nothing for us to do but wait patiently at lesnoi until the rivers should freeze over, and snow fall to a depth which would enable us to continue our journey to gizhiga on dog-sledges. it was a long, wearisome delay, and i felt for the first time, in its full force, the sensation of exile from home, country, and civilisation. the major continued very ill, and would show the anxiety which he had felt about the success of our expedition by talking deliriously for hours of crossing the mountains, starting for gizhiga in the whale-boat, and giving incoherent orders to viushin, dodd, and myself, about horses, dog-sledges, canoes, and provisions. the idea of getting to gizhiga, before the beginning of winter, filled his mind, to the exclusion of everything else. his sickness made the time previous to dodd's return seem very long and lonesome, as i had absolutely nothing to do except to sit in a little log room, with opaque fish-bladder windows, and pore over shakespeare and my bible, until i almost learned them by heart. in pleasant weather i would sling my rifle across my back and spend whole days in roaming over the mountains in pursuit of reindeer and foxes; but i rarely met with much success. one deer and a few arctic ptarmigan were my only trophies. at night i would sit on the transverse section of a log in our little kitchen, light a rude kamchadal lamp, made with a fragment of moss and a tin cup full of seal oil, and listen for hours to the songs and guitar-playing of the kamchadals, and to the wild stories of perilous mountain adventure which they delighted to relate. i learned during these kamchatkan nights' entertainments many interesting particulars of kamchadal life, customs, and peculiarities of which i had before known nothing; and, as i shall have no occasion hereafter to speak of this curious little-known people, i may as well give here what account i can of their language, music, amusements, superstitions, and mode of life. the people themselves i have already described as a quiet, inoffensive, hospitable tribe of semi-barbarians, remarkable only for honesty, general amiability, and comical reverence for legally constituted authority. such an idea as rebellion or resistance to oppression is wholly foreign to the kamchadal character _now_, whatever it may have been in previous ages of independence. they will suffer and endure any amount of abuse and ill-treatment, without any apparent desire for revenge, and with the greatest good-nature and elasticity of spirit. they are as faithful and forgiving as a dog. if you treat them well, your slightest wish will be their law; and they will do their best in their rude way to show their appreciation of kindness, by anticipating and meeting even your unexpressed wants. during our stay at lesnoi the major chanced one day to inquire for some milk. the _starosta_ did not tell him that there was not a cow in the village, but said that he would try to get some. a man was instantly despatched on horseback to the neighbouring settlement of kinkil, and before night he returned with a champagne-bottle under his arm, and the major had milk that evening in his tea. from this time until we started for gizhiga--more than a month--a man rode twenty miles every day to bring us a bottle of fresh milk. this seemed to be done out of pure kindness of heart, without any desire or expectation of future reward; and it is a fair example of the manner in which we were generally treated by all the kamchadals in the peninsula. the settled natives of northern kamchatka have generally two different residences, in which they live at different seasons of the year. these are respectively called the "zimovie" or winter settlement, and the "letovie" (let'-o-vye) or summer fishing-station, and are from one to five miles apart. in the former, which is generally situated under the shelter of timbered hills, several miles from the seacoast, they reside from september until june. the _letovie_ is always built near the mouth of an adjacent river or stream, and consists of a few _yurts_ or earth-covered huts, eight or ten conical _balagáns_ mounted on stilts, and a great number of wooden frames on which fish are hung to dry. to this fishing-station the inhabitants all remove early in june, leaving their winter settlement entirely deserted. even the dogs and the crows abandon it for the more attractive surroundings and richer pickings of the summer _balagáns._ early in july the salmon enter the river in immense numbers from the sea, and are caught by the natives in gill-nets, baskets, seines, weirs, traps, and a dozen other ingenious contrivances--cut open, cleaned, and boned by the women, with the greatest skill and celerity, and hung in long rows upon horizontal poles to dry. a fish, with all the confidence of sea life, enters the river as a sailor comes ashore, intending to have a good time; but before he fairly knows what he is about, he is caught in a seine, dumped out upon the beach with a hundred more equally unsophisticated and equally unfortunate sufferers, split open with a big knife, his backbone removed, his head cut off, his internal arrangements scooped out, and his mutilated remains hung over a pole to simmer in a hot july sun. it is a pity that he cannot enjoy the melancholy satisfaction of seeing the skill and rapidity with which his body is prepared for a new and enlarged sphere of usefulness! he is no longer a fish. in this second stage of passive unconscious existence he assumes a new name, and is called a "yukala" (yoo'-kah-lah). it is astonishing to see in what countless numbers and to what great distances these fish ascend the siberian rivers. dozens of small streams which we passed in the interior of kamchatka, seventy miles from the seacoast, were so choked up with thousands of dying, dead, and decayed fish, that we could not use the water for any purpose whatever. even in little mountain brooks, so narrow that a child could step across them, we saw salmon eighteen or twenty inches in length still working their way laboriously up stream, in water which was not deep enough to cover their bodies. we frequently waded in and threw them out by the dozen with our bare hands. they change greatly in appearance as they ascend a river. when they first come in from the sea their scales are bright and hard, and their flesh fat and richly coloured; but as they go higher and higher up stream; their scales lose their brilliancy and fall off, their flesh bleaches out until it is nearly white, and they become lean, dry, and tasteless. for this reason all the fishing-stations in kamchatka are located, if possible, at or near the mouths of rivers. to the instinct which leads the salmon to ascend rivers for the purpose of depositing its spawn, is attributable the settlement of all north-eastern siberia. if it were not for the abundance of fish, the whole country would be uninhabited and uninhabitable, except by the reindeer koraks. as soon as the fishing season is over, the kamchadals store away their dried _yukala_ in _balagáns_ and return to their winter quarters to prepare for the fall catch of sables. for nearly a month they spend all their time in the woods and mountains, making and setting traps. to make a sable-trap, a narrow perpendicular slot, fourteen inches by four in length and breadth, and five inches in depth, is cut in the trunk of a large tree, so that the bottom of the slot will be about at the height of a sable's head when he stands erect. the stem of another smaller tree is then trimmed, one of its ends raised to a height of three feet by a forked stick set in the ground, and the other bevelled off so as to slip up and down freely in the slot cut for its reception. this end is raised to the top of the slot and supported there by a simple figure-four catch, leaving a nearly square opening of about four inches below for the admission of the sable's head. the figure-four is then baited and the trap is ready. the sable rises upon his hind legs, puts his head into the hole, and the heavy log, set free by the dropping of the figure-four, falls and crushes the animal's skull, without injuring in the slightest degree the valuable parts of his skin. one native frequently makes and sets as many as a hundred of these traps in the fall, and visits them at short intervals throughout the winter. not content, however, with this extensive and well organised system of trapping sables, the natives hunt them upon snow-shoes with trained dogs, drive them into holes which they surround with nets, and then, forcing them out with fire or axe, they kill them with clubs. the number of sables caught in the kamchatkan peninsula annually varies from six to nine thousand, all of which are exported to russia and distributed from there over northern europe. a large proportion of the whole number of russian sables in the european market are caught by the natives of kamchatka and transported by _american_ merchants to moscow. w.h. bordman, of boston, and an american house in china--known, i believe, as russell & co.--practically control the fur trade of kamchatka and the okhotsk seacoast. the price paid to the kamchadals for an average sable skin in was nominally fifteen rubles silver, or about eleven dollars gold; but payment was made in tea, sugar, tobacco, and sundry other articles of merchandise, at the trader's own valuation, so that the natives actually realised only a little more than half the nominal price. nearly all the inhabitants of central kamchatka are engaged directly or indirectly during the winter in the sable trade and many of them have acquired by it a comfortable independence. fishing and sable-hunting, therefore, are the serious occupations of the kamchadals throughout the year; but as these are indications of the nature of the country rather than of the characteristics of its inhabitants, they give only an imperfect idea of the distinctive peculiarities of kamchadals and kamchadal life. the language, music, amusements, and superstitions of a people are much more valuable as illustrations of their real character than are their regular occupations. the kamchadal language is to me one of the most curious of all the wild tongues of asia; not on account of its construction, but simply from the strange, uncouth sounds with which it abounds, and its strangling, gurgling articulation. when rapidly spoken, it always reminded me of water running out of a narrow-mouthed jug! a russian traveller in kamchatka has said that "the kamchadal language is spoken half in the mouth and half in the throat"; but it might be more accurately described as spoken half in the throat and half in the stomach. it has more guttural sounds than any other asiatic language that i have ever heard, and differs considerably in this respect from the dialects of the chukchis and koraks. it is what comparative philologists call an agglutinative language, and seems to be made up of permanent unchangeable roots with variable prefixes. it has, so far as i could ascertain, no terminal inflections, and its grammar seemed to be simple and easily learned. most of the kamchadals throughout the northern part of the peninsula speak, in addition to their own language, russian and korak, so that, in their way, they are quite accomplished linguists. it has always seemed to me that the songs of a people, and especially of a people who have composed them themselves, and not adopted them from others, are indicative to a very great degree of their character; whether, as some author supposed, the songs have a reflex influence on the character, or whether they exist simply as its exponents, the result is the same, viz., a greater or less correspondence between the two. in none of the siberian tribes is this more marked than in the kamchadals. they have evidently never been a warlike, combative people. they have no songs celebrating the heroic deeds of their ancestors, or their exploits in the chase or in battle, as have many tribes of our north american indians. their ballads are all of a melancholy, imaginative character, inspired apparently by grief, love, or domestic feeling, rather than by the ruder passions of pride, anger, and revenge. their music all has a wild, strange sound to a foreign ear, but it conveys to the mind in some way a sense of sorrow, and vague, unavailing regret for something that has for ever passed away, like the emotion excited by a funeral dirge over the grave of a dear friend. as ossian says of the music of carryl, "it is like the memory of joys that are past--sweet, yet mournful to the soul." i remember particularly a song called the penzhinski, sung one night by the natives at lesnoi, which was, without exception, the sweetest, and yet the most inexpressibly mournful combination of notes that i had ever heard. it was a wail of a lost soul, despairing, yet pleading for mercy. i tried in vain to get a translation of the words. whether it was the relation of some bloody and disastrous encounter with their fiercer northern neighbours, or the lament over the slain body of some dear son, brother, or husband, i could not learn; but the music alone will bring the tears near one's eyes, and has an indescribable effect upon the singers, whose excitable feelings it sometimes works up almost to the pitch of frenzy. the dancing tunes of the kamchadals are of course entirely different in character, being generally very lively, and made up of energetic staccato passages, repeated many times in succession, without variation. nearly all the natives accompany themselves upon a three-cornered guitar with two strings, called a _ballalaika_ (bahl-lah-lai'-kah), and some of them play quite well upon rude home-made violins. all are passionately fond of music of every kind. the only other amusements in which they indulge are dancing, playing football on the snow in winter, and racing with dog-teams. the winter travel of the kamchadals is accomplished entirely upon dog-sledges, and in no other pursuit of their lives do they spend more time or exhibit their native skill and ingenuity to better advantage. they may even be said to have made dogs for themselves in the first place, since the present siberian animal is nothing more than a half-domesticated arctic wolf, and still retains all his wolfish instincts and peculiarities. there is probably no more hardy, enduring animal in the world. you may compel him to sleep out on the snow in a temperature of ° below zero, drive him with heavy loads until his feet crack open and stain the snow with blood, or starve him until he eats up his harness; but his strength and his spirit seem alike unconquerable. i have driven a team of nine dogs more than a hundred miles in a day and a night, and have frequently worked them hard for forty-eight hours without being able to give them a particle of food. in general they are fed once a day, their allowance being a single dried fish, weighing perhaps a pound and a half or two pounds. this is given to them at night, so that they begin another day's work with empty stomachs. the sledge, or _nart_, to which they are harnessed is about ten feet in length and two in width, made of seasoned birch timber, and combines to a surprising degree the two most desirable qualities of strength and lightness. it is simply a skeleton framework, fastened together with lashings of dried sealskin, and mounted on broad, curved runners. no iron whatever is used in its construction, and it does not weigh more than twenty pounds; yet it will sustain a load of four or five hundred pounds, and endure the severest shocks of rough mountain travel. the number of dogs harnessed to this sledge varies from seven to fifteen, according to the nature of the country to be traversed and the weight of the load. under favourable circumstances eleven dogs will make from forty to fifty miles a day with a man and a load of four hundred pounds. they are harnessed to the sledge in successive couples by a long central thong of sealskin, to which each individual dog is attached by a collar and a short trace. they are guided and controlled entirely by the voice and by a lead-dog who is especially trained for the purpose. the driver carries no whip, but has instead a stick about four feet in length and two inches in diameter, called an _oerstel_ (oar'-stel). this is armed at one end with a long iron spike, and is used to check the speed of the sledge in descending hills, and to stop the dogs when they leave the road, as they frequently do in pursuit of reindeer and foxes. the spiked end is then thrust down in front of one of the knees or uprights of the runners, and drags in that position through the snow, the upper end being firmly held by the driver. it is a powerful lever, and when skilfully used brakes up a sledge very promptly and effectively. [illustration: toward night; a tired dog-team from a painting by george a. frost] the art of driving a dog-team is one of the most deceptive in the world. the traveller at first sight imagines that driving a dog-sledge is just as easy as driving a street-car, and at the very first favourable opportunity he tries it. after being run away with within the first ten minutes, capsized into a snow-drift, and his sledge dragged bottom upward a quarter of a mile from the road, the rash experimenter begins to suspect that the task is not quite so easy as he had supposed, and in less than one day he is generally convinced by hard experience that a dog-driver, like a poet, is born, not made. the dress of the kamchadals in winter and summer is made for the most part of skins. their winter costume consists of sealskin boots or _torbasses_ worn over heavy reindeerskin stockings and coming to the knee; fur trousers with the hair inside; a foxskin hood with a face border of wolverine skin; and a heavy _kukhlánka_ (kookh-lan'-kah), or double fur overshirt, covering the body to the knees. this is made of the thickest and softest reindeerskin, ornamented around the bottom with silk embroidery, trimmed at the sleeves and neck with glossy beaver, and furnished with a square flap under the chin, to be held up over the nose, and a hood behind the neck, to be drawn over the head in bad weather. in such a costume as this the kamchadals defy for weeks at a time the severest cold, and sleep out on the snow safely and comfortably in temperatures of twenty, thirty, and even forty degrees below zero, fahr. most of our time during our long detention at lesnoi was occupied in the preparation of such costumes for our own use, in making covered dog-sledges to protect ourselves from winter storms, sewing bearskins into capacious sleeping-bags, and getting ready generally for a hard winter's campaign. [illustration: root digger] chapter xvii a fresh start--crossing the samanka mountains--descent on a korak encampment--nomads and their tents--door-holes and dogs--pologs--korak bread about the th of october a russian physician arrived from tigil, and proceeded to reduce the little strength that the major had by steaming, bleeding, and blistering him into a mere shadow of his former robust self. the fever, however, abated under this energetic treatment, and he began gradually to amend. sometime during the same week, dodd and meranef returned from tigil with a new supply of tea, sugar, rum, tobacco, and hardbread, and we began collecting dogs from the neighbouring settlements of kinkil and polan for another trip across the samanka mountains. snow had fallen everywhere to a depth of two feet, the weather had turned clear and cold, and there was nothing except the major's illness to detain us longer at lesnoi. on the th he declared himself able to travel, and we packed up for a start. on november st we put on our heavy fur clothes, which turned us into wild animals of most ferocious appearance, bade good-by to all the hospitable people of lesnoi, and set out with a train of sixteen sledges, eighteen men, two hundred dogs, and forty days' provisions, for the territory of the wandering koraks. we determined to reach gizhiga this time, or, as the newspapers say, perish in the attempt. late in the afternoon of november d, just as the long northern twilight was fading into the peculiar steely blue of an arctic night, our dogs toiled slowly up the last summit of the samanka mountains, and we looked down from a height of more than two thousand feet upon the dreary expanse of snow which stretched away to the far horizon. it was the land of the wandering koraks. a cold breeze from the sea swept across the mountain-top, soughing mournfully through the pines as it passed, and intensifying the loneliness and silence of the white wintry landscape. the faint pale light of the vanishing sun still lingered upon the higher peaks; but the gloomy ravines below us, shaggy with forests of larch and dense thickets of trailing-pine, were already gathering the shadows and indistinctness of night. at the foot of the mountains stood the first encampment of koraks. as we rested our dogs a few moments upon the summit, before commencing our descent, we tried to discern through the gathering gloom the black tents which we imagined stood somewhere beneath our feet; but nothing save the dark patches of trailing-pine broke the dead white of the level steppe. the encampment was hidden by a projecting shoulder of the mountain. [illustration: wandering koraks with their reindeer and sledges from a painting by george a. frost] the rising moon was just throwing into dark, bold relief the shaggy outlines of the peaks on our right, as we roused up our dogs and plunged into the throat of a dark ravine which led downward to the steppe. the deceptive shadows of night, and the masses of rock which choked up the narrow defile made the descent extremely dangerous; and it required all the skill of our practised drivers to avoid accident. clouds of snow flew from the spiked poles with which they vainly tried to arrest our downward rush; cries and warning shouts from those in advance, multiplied by the mountain echoes, excited our dogs to still greater speed, until we seemed, as the rocks and trees flew past, to be in the jaws of a falling avalanche, which was carrying us with breathless rapidity down the dark canon to certain ruin. gradually, however, our speed slackened, and we came out into the moonlight on the hard, wind-packed snow of the open steppe. half an hour's brisk travel brought us into the supposed vicinity of the korak encampment, but we saw as yet no signs of either reindeer or tents. the disturbed, torn-up condition of the snow usually apprises the traveller of his approach to the _yurts_ of the koraks, as the reindeer belonging to the band range all over the country within a radius of several miles, and paw up the snow in search of the moss which constitutes their food. failing to find any such indications, we were discussing the probability of our having been misdirected, when suddenly our leading dogs pricked up their sharp ears, snuffed eagerly at the wind, and with short, excited yelps made off at a dashing gallop toward a low hill which lay almost at right angles with our previous course. the drivers endeavoured in vain to check the speed of the excited dogs; their wolfish instincts were aroused, and all discipline was forgotten as the fresh scent came down upon the wind from the herd of reindeer beyond. a moment brought us to the brow of the hill, and before us in the clear moonlight, stood the conical tents of the koraks, surrounded by at least four thousand reindeer, whose branching antlers looked like a perfect forest of dry limbs. the dogs all gave voice simultaneously, like a pack of foxhounds in view of the game, and dashed tumultuously down the hill, regardless of the shouts of their masters, and the menacing cries of three or four dark forms which rose suddenly up from the snow between them and the frightened deer. above the tumult i could hear dodd's voice, hurling imprecations in russian at his yelping dogs, which, in spite of his most strenuous efforts, were dragging him and his capsized sledge across the steppe. the vast body of deer wavered a moment and then broke into a wild stampede, with drivers, korak sentinels, and two hundred dogs in full pursuit. not desirous of becoming involved in the mêlée, i sprang from my sledge and watched the confused crowd as it swept with shout, bark, and halloo, across the plain. the whole encampment, which had seemed in its quiet loneliness to be deserted, was now startled into instant activity. dark forms issued suddenly from the tents, and grasping the long spears which stood upright in the snow by the doorway, joined in the chase, shouting and hurling lassos of walrus hide at the dogs, with the hope of stopping their pursuit. the clattering of thousands of antlers dashed together in the confusion of flight, the hurried beat of countless hoofs upon the hard snow, the deep, hoarse barks of the startled deer, and the unintelligible cries of the koraks, as they tried to rally their panic-stricken herd, created a pandemonium of discordant sounds which could be heard far and wide through the still, frosty atmosphere of night. it resembled a midnight attack of comanches upon a hostile camp, rather than the peaceful arrival of three or four american travellers; and i listened with astonishment to the wild uproar of alarm which we had unintentionally aroused. the tumult grew fainter and fainter as it swept away into the distance, and the dogs, exhausting the unnatural strength which the excitement had temporarily given them, yielded reluctantly to the control of their drivers and turned toward the tents. dodd's dogs, panting with the violence of their exertions, limped sullenly back, casting longing glances occasionally in the direction of the deer, as if they more than half repented the weakness which had led them to abandon the chase. "why didn't you stop them?" i inquired of dodd, laughingly. "a driver of your experience ought to have better control of his team than that." "stop them!" he exclaimed with an aggrieved air. "i'd like to see _you_ stop them, with a rawhide lasso round your neck, and a big korak hauling like a steam windlass on the other end of it! it's all very well to cry 'stop 'em'; but when the barbarians haul you off the rear end of your sledge as if you were a wild animal, what course would your sublime wisdom suggest? i believe i've got the mark of a lasso round my neck now," and he felt cautiously about his ears for the impression of a sealskin thong. as soon as the deer had been gathered together again and a guard placed over them, the koraks crowded curiously around the visitors who had entered so unceremoniously their quiet camp, and inquired through meranef, our interpreter, who we were and what we wanted. a wild, picturesque group they made, as the moonlight streamed white and clear into their swarthy faces, and glittered upon the metallic ornaments about their persons and the polished blades of their long spears. their high cheek-bones, bold, alert eyes, and straight, coal-black hair, suggested an intimate relationship with our own indians; but the resemblance went no further. most of their faces wore an expression of bold, frank honesty, which is not a characteristic of our western aborigines, and which we instinctively accepted as a sufficient guarantee of their friendliness and good faith. contrary to our preconceived idea of northern savages, they were athletic, able-bodied men, fully up to the average height of americans. heavy _kukh-lánkas_ (kookh-lan'-kas), or hunting-shirts of spotted deerskin, confined about the waist with a belt, and fringed round the bottom with the long black hair of the wolverine, covered their bodies from the neck to the knee, ornamented here and there with strings of small coloured beads, tassels of scarlet leather, and bits of polished metal. fur trousers, long boots of sealskin coming up to the thigh, and wolfskin hoods, with the ears of the animal standing erect on each side of the head, completed the costume which, notwithstanding its _bizarre_ effect, had yet a certain picturesque adaptation to the equally strange features of the moonlight scene. leaving our cossack meranef, seconded by the major, to explain our business and wants, dodd and i strolled away to make a critical inspection of the encampment. it consisted of four large conical tents, built apparently of a framework of poles and covered with loose reindeerskins, confined in their places by long thongs of seal or walrus hide, which were stretched tightly over them from the apex of the cone to the ground. they seemed at first sight to be illy calculated to withstand the storms which in winter sweep down across this steppe from the arctic ocean; but subsequent experience proved that the severest gales cannot tear them from their fastenings. neatly constructed sledges of various shapes and sizes were scattered here and there upon the snow, and two or three hundred pack-saddles for the reindeer were piled up in a symmetrical wall near the largest tent. finishing our examination, and feeling somewhat bored by the society of fifteen or twenty koraks who had constituted themselves a sort of supervisory committee to watch our motions, we returned to the spot where the representatives of civilisation and barbarism were conducting their negotiations. they had apparently come to an amicable understanding; for, upon our approach, a tall native with shaven head stepped out from the throng, and leading the way to the largest tent, lifted a curtain of skin and revealed a dark hole about two feet and a half in diameter, which he motioned to us to enter. now, if there was any branch of viushin's siberian education upon which he especially prided himself, it was his proficiency in crawling into small holes. persevering practice had given him a flexibility of back and a peculiar sinuosity of movement which we might admire but could not imitate; and although the distinction was not perhaps an altogether desirable one, he was invariably selected to explore all the dark holes and underground passages (miscalled doors) which came in our way. this seemed to be one of the most peculiar of the many different styles of entrance which we had observed; but viushin, assuming as an axiom that no part of his body could be greater than the (w)hole, dropped into a horizontal position, and requesting dodd to give his feet an initial shove, crawled cautiously in. a few seconds of breathless silence succeeded his disappearance, when, supposing that all must be right, i put my head into the hole and crawled warily after him. the darkness was profound; but, guided by viushin's breathing, i was making very fair progress, when suddenly a savage snarl and a startling yell came out of the gloom in front, followed instantly by the most substantial part of viushin's body, which struck me with the force of a battering-ram on the top of the head, and caused me, with the liveliest apprehensions of ambuscade and massacre, to back precipitately out. viushin, with the awkward retrograde movements of a disabled crab, speedily followed. "what in the name of chort [footnote: the devil.] is the matter?" demanded dodd in russian, as he extricated viushin's head from the folds of the skin curtain in which it had become enveloped. "you back out as if shaitan and all his imps were after you!"--"you don't suppose," responded viushin, with excited gestures, "that i'm going to stay in that hole and be eaten up by korak dogs? if i was foolish enough to go in, i've got discretion enough to know when to come out. i don't believe the hole leads anywhere, anyhow," he added apologetically; "and it's all full of dogs." with a quick perception of viushin's difficulties and a grin of amusement at his discomfiture, our korak guide entered the hole, drove out the dogs, and lifting up an inner curtain, allowed the red light of the fire to stream through. crawling on hands and knees a distance of twelve or fifteen feet through the low doorway, we entered the large open circle in the interior of the tent. a crackling fire of resinous pine boughs burned brightly upon the ground in the centre, illuminating redly the framework of black, glossy poles, and flickering fitfully over the dingy skins of the roof and the swarthy tattooed faces of the women who squatted around. a large copper kettle, filled with some mixture of questionable odour and appearance, hung over the blaze, and furnished occupation to a couple of skinny, bare-armed women, who with the same sticks were alternately stirring its contents, poking up the fire, and knocking over the head two or three ill-conditioned but inquisitive dogs. the smoke, which rose lazily from the fire, hung in a blue, clearly defined cloud about five feet from the ground, dividing the atmosphere of the tent into a lower stratum of comparatively clear air, and an upper cloud region where smoke, vapours, and ill odours contended for supremacy. the location of the little pure air which the _yurt_ afforded made the boyish feat of standing upon one's head a very desirable accomplishment; and as the pungent smoke filled my eyes to the exclusion of everything else except tears, i suggested to dodd that he reverse the respective positions of his head and feet, and try it--he would escape the smoke and sparks from the fire, and at the same time obtain a new and curious optical effect. with the sneer of contempt which always met even my most valuable suggestions, he replied that i might try my own experiments, and throwing himself down at full length on the ground, he engaged in the interesting diversion of making faces at a korak baby. viushin's time, as soon as his eyes recovered a little from the effects of the smoke, was about equally divided between preparations for our evening meal, and revengeful blows at the stray dogs which ventured in his vicinity; while the major, who was probably the most usefully employed member of the party, negotiated for the exclusive possession of a _polog_. the temperature of a korak tent in winter seldom ranges above ° or ° fahr., and as constant exposure to such a degree of cold would be at least very disagreeable, the koraks construct around the inner circumference of the tent small, nearly air-tight apartments called _pologs_, which are separated one from another by skin curtains, and combine the advantages of exclusiveness with the desirable luxury of greater warmth. these _pologs_ are about four feet in height, and six or eight feet in width and length. they are made of the heaviest furs sewn carefully together to exclude the air, and are warmed and lighted by a burning fragment of moss floating in a wooden bowl of seal oil. the law of compensation, however, which pervades all nature, makes itself felt even in the _pologs_ of a korak _yurt_, and for the greater degree of warmth is exacted the penalty of a closer, smokier atmosphere. the flaming wick of the lamp, which floats like a tiny burning ship in a miniature lake of rancid grease, absorbs the vital air of the _polog_, and returns it in the shape of carbonic acid gas, oily smoke, and sickening odours. in defiance, however, of all the known laws of hygiene, this vitiated atmosphere seems to be healthful; or, to state the case negatively, there is no evidence to prove its unhealthfulness. the korak women, who spend almost the whole of their time in these _pologs_, live generally to an advanced age, and except a noticeable tendency to angular outlines, and skinniness, there is nothing to distinguish them physically from the old women of other countries. it was not without what i supposed to be a well-founded apprehension of suffocation, that i slept for the first time in a korak _yurt_; but my uneasiness proved to be entirely groundless, and gradually wore away. [illustration: a man of the wandering koraks] with a view to escape from the crowd of koraks, who squatted around us on the earthen floor, and whose watchful curiosity soon became irksome, dodd and i lifted up the fur curtain of the _polog_ which the major's diplomacy had secured, and crawled in to await the advent of supper. the inquisitive koraks, unable to find room in the narrow _polog_ for the whole of their bodies, lay down to the number of nine on the outside, and poking their ugly, half-shaven heads under the curtain, resumed their silent supervision. the appearance in a row of nine disembodied heads, whose staring eyes rolled with synchronous motion from side to side as we moved, was so ludicrous that we involuntarily burst into laughter. a responsive smile instantly appeared upon each of the nine swarthy faces, whose simultaneous concurrence in the expression of every emotion suggested the idea of some huge monster with nine heads and but one consciousness. acting upon dodd's suggestion that we try and smoke them out, i took my brier-wood pipe from my pocket and proceeded to light it with one of those peculiar snapping lucifers which were among our most cherished relics of civilisation. as the match, with a miniature fusillade of sharp reports, burst suddenly into flame, the nine startled heads instantly disappeared, and from beyond the curtain we could hear a chorus of long-drawn "tye-e-e's" from the astonished natives, followed by a perfect babel of animated comments upon this diabolical method of producing fire. fearful, however, of losing some other equally striking manifestation of the white men's supernatural power, the heads soon returned, reenforced by several others which the report of the wonderful occurrence had attracted. the fabled watchfulness of the hundred-eyed argus was nothing compared with the scrutiny to which we were now subjected. every wreath of curling smoke which rose from our lips was watched by the staring eyes as intently as if it were some deadly vapour from the bottomless pit, which would shortly burst into report and flame. a loud and vigorous sneeze from dodd was the signal for a second panic-stricken withdrawal of the row of heads, and another comparison of respective experiences outside the curtain. it was laughable enough; but, tired of being stared at and anxious for something to eat, we crawled out of our _polog_ and watched with unassumed interest the preparation of supper. out of a little pine box which contained our telegraphic instruments, viushin had improvised a rude, legless mess-table, which he was engaged in covering with cakes of hardbread, slices of raw bacon, and tumblers of steaming tea. these were the luxuries of civilisation, and beside them on the ground, in a long wooden trough and a huge bowl of the same material, were the corresponding delicacies of barbarism. as to their nature and composition we could, of course, give only a wild conjecture; but the appetites of weary travellers are not very discriminating, and we seated ourselves, like cross-legged turks, on the ground, between the trough and the instrument-box, determined to prove our appreciation of korak hospitality by eating everything which offered itself. the bowl with its strange-looking contents arrested, of course, the attention of the observant dodd, and, poking it inquiringly with a long-handled spoon, he turned to viushin, who, as _chef-de-cuisine_, was supposed to know all about it, and demanded: "what's this you've got?" "that?" answered viushin, promptly, "that's _kasha_" (hasty pudding made of rice). "_kasha_!" exclaimed dodd, contemptuously. "it looks more like the stuff that the children of israel made bricks of. they don't seem to have wanted for straw, either," he added, as he fished up several stems of dried grass. "what is it, anyhow?" "that," said viushin again, with a comical assumption of learning, "is the celebrated 'jamuk chi a la poosteretsk,' the national dish of the koraks, made from the original recipe of his high excellency oollcot ootkoo minyegeetkin, grand hereditary taiyon and vwisokee prevoskhodeetelstvo--" "hold on!" exclaimed dodd, with a deprecating gesture, "that's enough, i'll eat it"; and taking out a halfspoonful of the dark viscid mass, he put it to his lips. "well," said we expectantly, after a moment's pause, "what does it taste like?" "like the mud pies of infancy!" he replied sententiously. "a little salt, pepper, and butter, and a good deal of meat and flour, with a few well selected vegetables, would probably improve it; but it isn't particularly bad as it is." upon the strength of this rather equivocal recommendation i tasted it. aside from a peculiar earthy flavour, it had nothing about it which was either pleasant or disagreeable. its qualities were all negative except its grassiness, which alone gave character and consistency to the mass. the mixture, known among the koraks as _manyalla,_ is eaten by all the siberian tribes as a substitute for bread, and is the nearest approximation which native ingenuity can make to the staff of life. it is valued, we were told, more for its medicinal virtues than for any intrinsic excellence of taste, and our limited experience fully prepared us to believe the statement. its original elements are clotted blood, tallow, and half-digested moss, taken from the stomach of the reindeer, where it is supposed to have undergone some essential change which fits it for second-hand consumption. these curious and heterogeneous ingredients are boiled up together with a few handfuls of dried grass to give the mixture consistency, and the dark mass is then moulded into small loaves and frozen for future use. our host was evidently desirous of treating us with every civility, and, as a mark of especial consideration, bit off several choice morsels from the large cube of venison in his grimy hand, and taking them from his mouth, offered them to me. i waived graciously the implied compliment, and indicated dodd as the proper recipient of such attentions; but the latter revenged himself by requesting an old woman to bring me some raw tallow, which he soberly assured her constituted my only food when at home. my indignant denials, in english were not, of course, understood; and the woman, delighted to find an american whose tastes corresponded so closely with her own, brought the tallow. i was a helpless victim, and i could only add this last offence to the long list of grievances which stood to dodd's credit, and which i hoped some time to settle in full. supper, in the social economy of the koraks, is emphatically the meal of the day. around the kettle of _manyalla_, or the trough of reindeer meat; gather the men of the band, who during the hours of daylight have been absent, and who, between mouthfuls of meat or moss, discuss the simple subjects of thought which their isolated life affords. we availed ourselves of this opportunity to learn something of the tribes that inhabited the country to the northward, the reception with which we should probably meet, and the mode of travel which we should be compelled to adopt. [illustration: small adze with bone headpiece] chapter xviii why the koraks wander--their independence--cheerless life--uses of the reindeer--korak ideas of distance--"monarch of the brass-handled sword" the wandering koraks of kamchatka, who are divided into about forty different bands, roam over the great steppes in the northern part of the peninsula, between the th and the d parallels of latitude. their southern limit is the settlement of tigil, on the west coast, where they come annually to trade, and they are rarely found north of the village of penzhina, two hundred miles from the head of the okhotsk sea. within these limits they wander almost constantly with their great herds of reindeer, and so unsettled and restless are they in their habits, that they seldom camp longer than a week in any one place. this, however, is not attributable altogether to restlessness or love of change. a herd of four or five thousand reindeer will in a very few days paw up the snow and eat all the moss within a radius of a mile from the encampment, and then, of course, the band must move to fresh pasture ground. their nomadic life, therefore, is not entirely a choice, but partly a necessity, growing out of their dependence upon the reindeer. they _must_ wander or their deer will starve, and then their own starvation follows as a natural consequence. their unsettled mode of life probably grew, in the first place, out of the domestication of the reindeer, and the necessity which it involved of consulting first the reindeer's wants; but the restless, vagabondish habits thus produced have now become a part of the korak's very nature, so that he could hardly live in any other way, even had he an opportunity of so doing. this wandering, isolated, independent existence has given to the koraks all those characteristic traits of boldness, impatience of restraint, and perfect self-reliance, which distinguish them from the kamchadals and the other settled inhabitants of siberia. give them a small herd of reindeer, and a moss steppe to wander over, and they ask nothing more from all the world. they are wholly independent of civilisation and government, and will neither submit to their laws nor recognise their distinctions. every man is a law unto himself so long as he owns a dozen reindeer; and he can isolate himself, if he so chooses, from all human kind, and ignore all other interests but his own and his reindeer's. for the sake of convenience and society they associate themselves in bands of six or eight families each; but these bands are held together only by mutual consent, and recognise no governing head. they have a leader called a _taiyón_ who is generally the largest deer-owner of the band, and he decides all such questions as the location of camps and time of removal from place to place; but he has no other power, and must refer all graver questions of individual rights and general obligations to the members of the band collectively. they have no particular reverence for anything or anybody except the evil spirits who bring calamities upon them, and the "shamáns" or priests, who act as infernal mediators between these devils and their victims. earthly rank they treat with contempt, and the tsar of all the russias, if he entered a korak tent, would stand upon the same level with its owner. we had an amusing instance of this soon after we met the first koraks. the major had become impressed in some way with the idea that in order to get what he wanted from these natives he must impress them with a proper sense of his power, rank, wealth, and general importance in the world, and make them feel a certain degree of reverence and respect for his orders and wishes. he accordingly called one of the oldest and most influential members of the band to him one day, and proceeded to tell him, through an interpreter, how rich he was; what immense resources, in the way of rewards and punishments, he possessed; what high rank he held; how important a place he filled in russia, and how becoming it was that an individual of such exalted attributes should be treated by poor wandering heathen with filial reverence and veneration. the old korak, squatting upon his heels on the ground, listened quietly to the enumeration of all our leader's admirable qualities and perfections without moving a muscle of his face; but finally, when the interpreter had finished, he rose slowly, walked up to the major with imperturbable gravity, and with the most benignant and patronising condescension, patted him softly on the head! the major turned red and broke into a laugh; but he never tried again to overawe a korak. notwithstanding this democratic independence of the koraks, they are almost invariably hospitable, obliging, and kind-hearted; and we were assured at the first encampment where we stopped, that we should have no difficulty in getting the different bands to carry us on deer-sledges from one encampment to another until we should reach the head of penzhinsk gulf. after a long conversation with the koraks who crowded around us as we sat by the fire, we finally became tired and sleepy, and with favourable impressions, upon the whole, of this new and strange people, we crawled into our little _polog_ to sleep. a voice in another part of the _yurt_ was singing a low, melancholy air in a minor key as i closed my eyes, and the sad, oft-repeated refrain, so different from ordinary music, invested with peculiar loneliness and strangeness my first night in a korak tent. to be awakened in the morning by a paroxysm of coughing, caused by the thick, acrid smoke of a low-spirited fire--to crawl out of a skin bedroom six feet square into the yet denser and smokier atmosphere of the tent--to eat a breakfast of dried fish, frozen tallow, and venison out of a dirty wooden trough, with an ill-conditioned dog standing at each elbow and disputing one's right to every mouthful, is to enjoy an experience which only korak life can afford, and which only korak insensibility can long endure. a very sanguine temperament may find in its novelty some compensation for its discomfort, but the novelty rarely outlasts the second day, while the discomfort seems to increase in a direct ratio with the length of the experience. philosophers may assert that a rightly constituted mind will rise superior to all outward circumstances; but two weeks in a korak tent would do more to disabuse their minds of such an erroneous impression than any amount of logical argument. i do not myself profess to be preternaturally cheerful, and the dismal aspect of things when i crawled out of my fur sleeping-bag, on the morning after our arrival at the first encampment, made me feel anything but amiable. the first beams of daylight were just struggling in misty blue lines through the smoky atmosphere of the tent. the recently kindled fire would not burn but would smoke; the air was cold and cheerless; two babies were crying in a neighbouring _polog_; the breakfast was not ready, everybody was cross, and rather than break the harmonious impression of general misery, i became cross also. three or four cups of hot tea, however, which were soon forthcoming, exerted their usual inspiriting influence, and we began gradually to take a more cheerful view of the situation. summoning the _taiyón,_ and quickening his dull apprehension with a preliminary pipe of strong circassian tobacco, we succeeded in making arrangements for our transportation to the next korak encampment in the north, a distance of about forty miles. orders were at once given for the capture of twenty reindeer and the preparation of sledges. snatching hurriedly a few bites of hardbread and bacon by way of breakfast, i donned fur hood and mittens, and crawled out through the low doorway to see how twenty trained deer were to be separated from a herd of four thousand wild ones. [illustration: tents and reindeer of the wandering koraks] surrounding the tent in every direction were the deer belonging to the band, some pawing up the snow with their sharp hoofs in search of moss, others clashing their antlers together and barking hoarsely in fight, or chasing one another in a mad gallop over the steppe. near the tent a dozen men with lassos arranged themselves in two parallel lines, while twenty more, with a thong of sealskin two or three hundred yards in length, encircled a portion of the great herd, and with shouts and waving lassos began driving it through the narrow gantlet. the deer strove with frightened bounds to escape from the gradually contracting circle, but the sealskin cord, held at short distances by shouting natives, invariably turned them back, and they streamed in a struggling, leaping throng through the narrow opening between the lines of lassoers. ever and anon a long cord uncoiled itself in air, and a sliding noose fell over the antlers of some unlucky deer whose slit ears marked him as trained, but whose tremendous leaps and frantic efforts to escape suggested very grave doubts as to the extent of the training. to prevent the interference and knocking together of the deer's antlers when they should be harnessed in couples, one horn was relentlessly chopped off close to the head by a native armed with a heavy sword-like knife, leaving a red ghastly stump from which the blood trickled in little streams over the animal's ears. they were then harnessed to sledges in couples, by a collar and trace passing between the forelegs; lines were affixed to small sharp studs in the headstall, which pricked the right or left side of the head when the corresponding rein was jerked, and the equipage was ready. bidding good-by to the lesnoi kamchadals, who returned from here, we muffled ourselves from the biting air in our heaviest furs, took seats on our respective sledges, and at a laconic "tok" (go) from the _taiyón_ we were off; the little cluster of tents looking like a group of conical islands behind us as we swept out upon the limitless ocean of the snowy steppe. noticing that i shivered a little in the keen air, my driver pointed away to the northward, and exclaimed with a pantomimic shrug, "tam _shipka_ kholodno"--"there it's awful cold." we needed not to be informed of the fact; the rapidly sinking thermometer indicated our approach to the regions of perpetual frost, and i looked forward with no little apprehension to the prospect of sleeping outdoors in the arctic temperatures of which i had read, but which i had never yet experienced. this was my first trial of reindeer travel, and i was a little disappointed to find that it did not quite realise the expectations that had been excited in my boyish days by the pictures of galloping lapland deer in the old geographies. the reindeer were there, but they were not the ideal reindeer of early fancy, and i felt a vague sense of personal injury and unjustifiable deception at the substitution of these awkward, ungainly beasts for the spirited and fleet-footed animals of my boyish imagination. their trot was awkward and heavy, they carried their heads low, and their panting breaths and gaping mouths were constantly suggestive of complete exhaustion, and excited pity for their apparently laborious exertions, rather than admiration for the speed which they really did exhibit. my ideal reindeer would never have demeaned himself by running with his mouth wide open. when i learned, as i afterward did, that they were compelled to breathe through their mouths, on account of the rapid accumulation of frost in their nostrils, it relieved my apprehensions of their breaking down, but did not alter my firm conviction that my ideal reindeer was infinitely superior in an aesthetic point of view to the real animal. i could not but admit, however, the inestimable value of the reindeer to his wandering owners. besides carrying them from place to place, he furnishes them with clothes, food, and covering for their tents; his antlers are made into rude implements of all sorts; his sinews are dried and pounded into thread, his bones are soaked in seal oil and burned for fuel, his entrails are cleaned, filled with tallow, and eaten; his blood, mixed with the contents of his stomach, is made into _manyalla_; his marrow and tongue are considered the greatest of delicacies; the stiff, bristly skin of his legs is used to cover snow-shoes; and finally his whole body, sacrificed to the korak gods, brings down upon his owners all the spiritual and temporal blessings which they need. it would be hard to find another animal which fills so important a place in the life of any body of men, as the reindeer does in the life and domestic economy of the siberian koraks. i cannot now think of one which furnishes even the four prime requisites of food, clothing, shelter, and transportation. it is a singular fact, however, that the siberian natives--the only people, so far as i know, who have ever domesticated the reindeer, except the laps--do not use in any way the animal's milk. why so important and desirable an article of food should be neglected, when every other part of the deer's body is turned to some useful account, i cannot imagine. it is certain, however, that no one of the four great wandering tribes of north-eastern siberia, koraks, chukchis, tunguses, and lamutkis, uses in any way the reindeer's milk. by two o'clock in the afternoon it began to grow dark, but we estimated that we had accomplished at least half of our day's journey, and halted for a few moments to allow our deer to eat. the last half of the distance seemed interminable. the moon rose round and bright as the shield of achilles, and lighted up the vast, lonely _tundra_ with noonday brilliancy; but the silence and desolation, the absence of any dark object upon which the fatigued eye could rest, and the apparently boundless extent of this dead sea of snow, oppressed us with new and strange sensations of awe. a dense mist or steam, which is an unfailing indication of intense cold, rose from the bodies of the reindeer and hung over the road long after we had passed. beards became tangled masses of frozen iron wire; eyelids grew heavy with white rims of frost and froze together when we winked; noses assumed a white, waxen appearance with every incautious exposure, and only by frequently running beside our sledges could we keep any "feeling" in our feet. impelled by hunger and cold, we repeated twenty times the despairing question, "how much farther is it?" and twenty times we received the stereotyped but indefinite answer of "cheimuk," near, or occasionally the encouraging assurance that we would arrive in a minute. now we knew very well that we _should not_ arrive in a minute, nor probably in forty minutes; but it afforded temporary relief to be _told_ that we would. my frequent inquiries finally spurred my driver into an attempt to express the distance arithmetically, and with evident pride in his ability to speak russian, he assured me that it was only "dva verst," or two versts more. i brightened up at once with anticipations of a warm fire and an infinite number of cups of hot tea, and by imagining prospective comfort, succeeded in forgetting the present sense of suffering. at the expiration, however, of three-quarters of an hour, seeing no indication of the promised encampment, i asked once more if it were much farther away. one korak looked around over the steppe with a well assumed air of seeking some landmark, and then turning to me with a confident nod, repeated the word "verst" and held up _four fingers_! i sank back upon my sledge in despair. if we had been three-quarters of an hour in losing two versts, how long would be we in losing versts enough to get back to the place from which we started. it was a discouraging problem, and after several unsuccessful attempts to solve it by the double rule of three backwards, i gave it up. for the benefit of the future traveller, i give, however, a few native expressions for distances, with their numerical equivalents: "cheimuk"--near, twenty versts; "bolshe nyet"--there is no more, fifteen versts; "sey chas priyédem"--we will arrive this minute, means any time in the course of the day or night; and "dailóko"--far, is a week's journey. by bearing in mind these simple values, the traveller will avoid much bitter disappointment, and _may_ get through without entirely losing faith in human veracity. about six o'clock in the evening, tired, hungry, and half-frozen, we caught sight of the sparks and fire-lit smoke which arose from the tents of the second encampment, and amid a general barking of dogs and hallooing of men we stopped among them. jumping hurriedly from my sledge, with no thought but that of getting to a fire, i crawled into the first hole which presented itself, with a firm belief, founded on the previous night's experience, that it must be a door. after groping about some time in the dark, crawling over two dead reindeer and a heap of dried fish, i was obliged to shout for assistance. great was the astonishment of the proprietor, who came to the rescue with a torch, to find a white man and a stranger crawling around aimlessly in his fish storehouse. he relieved his feelings with a ty-e-e-e of amazement, and led the way, or rather crawled away, to the interior of the tent, where i found the major endeavouring with a dull korak knife to cut his frozen beard loose from his fur hood and open communication with his mouth through a sheet of ice and hair. the teakettle was soon simmering and spouting over a brisk fire, beards were thawed out, noses examined for signs of frost-bites, and in half an hour we were seated comfortably on the ground around a candle-box, drinking tea and discussing the events of the day. just as viushin was filling up our cups for the third time, the skin curtain of the low doorway at our side was lifted up, and the most extraordinary figure which i ever beheld in kamchatka crawled silently in, straightened up to its full height of six feet, and stood majestically before us. it was an ugly, dark-featured man about thirty years of age. he was clothed in a scarlet dress-coat with blue facings and brass buttons, with long festoons of gold cord hung across the breast, trousers of black, greasy deerskin, and fur boots. his hair was closely shaven from the crown of his head, leaving a long fringe of lank, uneven locks hanging about his ears and forehead. long strings of small coloured beads depended from his ears, and over one of them he had plastered for future use a huge quid of masticated tobacco. about his waist was tied a ragged sealskin thong, which supported a magnificent silver-hilted sword and embossed scabbard. his smoky, unmistakably korak face, shaven head, scarlet coat, greasy skin trousers, gold cord, sealskin belt, silver-hilted sword, and fur boots, made up such a remarkable combination of glaring contrasts that we could do nothing for a moment but stare at him in utter _amazement_. he reminded me of "talipot, the immortal potentate of manacabo, messenger of the morning, enlightener of the sun, possessor of the whole earth, and mighty monarch of the brass-handled sword." "who are you?" suddenly demanded the major, in russian. a low bow was the only response. "where in the name of chort did you come from?" another bow. "where did you get that coat? can't you say something? ay! meranef! come and talk to this--fellow, i can't make him say anything." dodd suggested that he might be a messenger from the expedition of sir john franklin, with late advices from the pole and the north-west passage, and the silent owner of the sword bowed affirmatively, as if this were the true solution of the mystery. "are you a pickled cabbage?" suddenly inquired dodd in russian. the unknown intimated by a very emphatic bow that he was. "_he_ doesn't understand anything!" said dodd in disgust; "where's meranef?" meranef soon made his appearance, and began questioning the mysterious visitor in a scarlet coat as to his residence, name, and previous history. for the first time he now found a voice. "what does he say?" asked the major; "what's his name?" "he says his name is khanálpooginuk." "where did he get that coat and sword?" "he says 'the great white chief' gave it to him for a dead reindeer." this was not very satisfactory, and meranef was instructed to get some more intelligible information. who the "great white chief" might be, and why he should give a scarlet coat and a silver-hilted sword for a dead reindeer, were questions beyond our ability to solve. finally, meranef's puzzled face cleared up, and he told us that the coat and sword had been presented to the unknown by the emperor, as a reward for reindeer given to the starving russians of kamchatka during a famine. the korak was asked if he had received no paper with these gifts, and he immediately left the tent, and returned in a moment with a sheet of paper tied up carefully with reindeer's sinews between a couple of thin boards. this paper explained everything. the coat and sword had been given to the present owner's father, during the reign of alexander i., by the russian governor of kamchatka as a reward for succour afforded the russians in a famine. from the father they had descended to the son, and the latter, proud of his inherited distinction, had presented himself to us as soon as he heard of our arrival. he wanted nothing in particular except to show himself, and after examining his sword, which was really a magnificent weapon, we gave him a few bunches of tobacco and dismissed him. we had hardly expected to find in the interior of kamchatka any relics of alexander i., dating back to the time of napoleon. [illustration: iron skin scraper] chapter xix the snow-drift compass--marriage by capture--an intoxicating fungus--monotony of korak life on the following morning at daybreak we continued our journey, and rode until four hours after dark, over a boundless level steppe, without a single guiding landmark to point the way. i was surprised to see how accurately our drivers could determine the points of the compass and shape their course by simply looking at the snow. the heavy north-east winds which prevail in this locality throughout the winter sweep the snow into long wave-like ridges called _sastrugi_ (sas-troo'-gee), which are always perpendicular to the course of the wind, and which almost invariably run in a north-west and south-east direction. they are sometimes hidden for a few days by fresh-fallen snow; but an experienced korak can always tell by removing the upper layer which way is north, and he travels to his destination by night or day in a nearly straight line. we reached the third encampment about six o'clock, and upon entering the largest tent were surprised to find it crowded with natives, as if in expectation of some ceremony or entertainment. inquiry through our interpreter elicited the interesting fact that the ceremony of marriage was about to be performed for, or rather by, two members of the band; and instead of taking up our quarters, as we at first intended, in another less crowded tent, we determined to remain and see in what manner this rite would be solemnised by a wholly uncivilised and barbarous people. the marriage ceremony of the koraks is especially remarkable for its entire originality, and for the indifference which it manifests to the sensibilities of the bridegroom. in no other country does there exist such a curious mixture of sense and absurdity as that which is dignified in the social life of the koraks with the name of marriage; and among no other people, let us charitably hope, is the unfortunate bridegroom subjected to such humiliating indignities. the contemplation of marriage is, or ought to be, a very serious thing to every young man; but to a korak of average sensibility it must be absolutely appalling. no other proof of bravery need ever be exhibited than a certificate of marriage (if the koraks have such documents), and the bravery rises into positive heroism when a man marries two or three times. i once knew a korak in kamchatka who had four wives, and i felt as much respect for his heroic bravery as if he had charged with the six hundred at balaklava. the ceremony, i believe, has never been described; and inadequate as a description may be to convey an idea of the reality, it will perhaps enable american lovers to realise what a calamity they escaped when they were born in america and not in kamchatka. the young korak's troubles begin when he first falls in love; this, like achilles' wrath, is "the direful spring of woes unnumbered." if his intentions are serious, he calls upon the damsel's father and makes formal proposals for her hand, ascertains the amount of her dower in reindeer, and learns her estimated value. he is probably told that he must work for his wife two or three years--a rather severe trial of any young man's affection. he then seeks an interview with the young lady herself, and performs the agreeable or disagreeable duty which corresponds in korak to the civilised custom of "popping the question." we had hoped to get some valuable hints from the koraks as to the best method which their experience suggested for the successful accomplishment of this delicate task; but we could learn nothing that would be applicable to the more artificial relations of civilised society. if the young man's sentiments are reciprocated, and he obtains a positive promise of marriage, he goes cheerfully to work, like ferdinand in _the tempest_ for miranda's father, and spends two or three years in cutting and drawing wood, watching reindeer, making sledges, and contributing generally to the interests of his prospective father-in-law. at the end of this probationary period comes the grand "experimentum crucis," which is to decide his fate and prove the success or the uselessness of his long labour. at this interesting crisis we had surprised our korak friends in the third encampment. the tent which we had entered was an unusually large one, containing twenty-six _pologs_, arranged in a continuous circle around its inner circumference. the open space in the centre around the fire was crowded with the dusky faces and half-shaven heads of the korak spectators, whose attention seemed about equally divided between sundry kettles and troughs of _manyalla_, boiled venison, marrow, frozen tallow, and similar delicacies, and the discussion of some controverted point of marriage etiquette. owing to my ignorance of the language, i was not able to enter thoroughly into the merits of the disputed question; but it seemed to be ably argued on both sides. our sudden entrance seemed to create a temporary diversion from the legitimate business of the evening. the tattooed women and shaven-headed men stared in open-mouthed astonishment at the pale-faced guests who had come unbidden to the marriage-feast, having on no wedding garments. our faces were undeniably dirty, our blue hunting-shirts and buckskin trousers bore the marks of two months' rough travel, in numerous rips, tears, and tatters, which were only partially masked by a thick covering of reindeer hair from our fur _kukhlánkas._ our general appearance, in fact, suggested a more intimate acquaintance with dirty _yurts_, mountain thickets, and siberian storms, than with the civilising influences of soap, water, razors, and needles. we bore the curious scrutiny of the assemblage, however, with the indifference of men who were used to it, and sipped our hot tea while waiting for the ceremony to begin. i looked curiously around to see if i could distinguish the happy candidates for matrimonial honours; but they were evidently concealed in one of the closed _pologs_. the eating and drinking seemed by this time to be about finished, and an air of expectation and suspense pervaded the entire crowd. suddenly we were startled by the loud and regular beating of a native _barabán_ or bass drum, which fairly filled the tent with a great volume of sound. at the same instant the tent opened to permit the passage of a tall, stern-looking korak, with an armful of willow sprouts and alder branches, which he proceeded [illustration: drawings of the koraks. illustrative of their myths.] to distribute in all the _pologs_ of the tent. "what do you suppose that's for?" asked dodd in an undertone. "i don't know," was the reply; "keep quiet and you'll see." the regular throbs of the drum continued throughout the distribution of the willow sticks and at its close the drummer began to sing a low, musical recitative, which increased gradually in volume and energy until it swelled into a wild, barbarous chant, timed by the regular beats of the heavy drum. a slight commotion followed, the front curtains of all the _pologs_ were thrown up, the women stationed themselves in detachments of two or three at the entrance of each polog, and took up the willow branches which had been provided. in a moment a venerable native, whom we presumed to be the father of one of the parties, emerged from one of the _pologs_ near the door, leading a good-looking young korak and the dark-faced bride. upon their appearance the excitement increased to the pitch of frenzy, the music redoubled its rapidity, the men in the centre of the tent joined in the uncouth chant, and uttered at short intervals peculiar shrill cries of wild excitement. at a given signal from the native who had led out the couple, the bride darted suddenly into the first _polog_, and began a rapid flight around the tent, raising the curtains between the _pologs_ successively, and passing under. the bridegroom instantly followed in hot pursuit; but the women who were stationed in each compartment threw every possible impediment in his way, tripping up his unwary feet, holding down the curtains to prevent his passage, and applying the willow and alder switches unmercifully to a very susceptible part of his body as he stooped to raise them. the air was filled with drum-beats, shouts of encouragement and derision, and the sound of the heavy blows which were administered to the unlucky bridegroom by each successive detachment of women as he ran the gantlet. it became evident at once that despite his most violent efforts he would fail to overtake the flying atalanta before she completed the circuit of the tent. even the golden apples of hesperides would have availed him little against such disheartening odds; but with undismayed perseverance he pressed on, stumbling headlong over the outstretched feet of his female persecutors, and getting constantly entangled in the ample folds of the reindeerskin curtains, which were thrown with the skill of a matador over his head and eyes. in a moment the bride had entered the last closed _polog_ near the door, while the unfortunate bridegroom was still struggling with his accumulating misfortunes about half-way around the tent. i expected to see him relax his efforts and give up the contest when the bride disappeared, and was preparing to protest strongly in his behalf against the unfairness of the trial; but, to my surprise, he still struggled on, and with a final plunge burst through the curtains of the last _polog_ and rejoined his bride. the music suddenly ceased, and the throng began to stream out of the tent. the ceremony was evidently over. turning to meranef, who with a delighted grin had watched its progress, we inquired what it all meant. "were they married?"--"da's," was the affirmative reply. "but," we objected, "he didn't catch her."--"she waited for him, your honour, in the last _polog_, and if he caught her there it was enough."--"suppose he had _not_ caught her there, then what?"--"then," answered the cossack, with an expressive shrug of commiseration, "the _beidnak_ [poor fellow] would have had to work two more years." this was pleasant--for the bridegroom! to work two years for a wife, undergo a severe course of willow sprouts at the close of his apprenticeship, and then have no security against a possible breach of promise on the part of the bride. his faith in her constancy must be unlimited. the intention of the whole ceremony was evidently to give the woman an opportunity to marry the man or not, as she chose, since it was obviously impossible for him to catch her under such circumstances, unless she voluntarily waited for him in one of the _pologs_. the plan showed a more chivalrous regard and deference for the wishes and preferences of the gentler sex than is common in an unreconstructed state of society; but it seemed to me, as an unprejudiced observer, that the same result might have been obtained without so much abuse of the unfortunate bridegroom! some regard ought to have been paid to his feelings, if he _was_ a man. i could not ascertain the significance of the chastisement which was inflicted by the women upon the bridegroom with the willow switches. dodd suggested that it might be emblematical of married life--a sort of foreshadowing of future domestic experience; but in view of the masculine korak character, this hardly seemed to me probable. no woman in her senses would try the experiment a second time upon one of the stern, resolute men who witnessed that ceremony, and who seemed to regard it _then_ as perfectly proper. circumstances would undoubtedly alter cases. mr. a.s. bickmore, in the _american journal of science_ for may, , notices this curious custom of the koraks, and says that the chastisement is intended to test the young man's "ability to bear up against the ills of life"; but i would respectfully submit that the ills of life do not generally come in that shape, and that switching a man over the back with willow sprouts is a very singular way of preparing him for future misfortunes of any kind. whatever may be the motive, it is certainly an infringement upon the generally recognised prerogatives of the sterner sex, and should be discountenanced by all koraks who favour masculine supremacy. before they know it, they will have a woman's suffrage association on their hands, and female lecturers will be going about from band to band advocating the substitution of hickory clubs and slung-shots for the harmless willow switches, and protesting against the tyranny which will not permit them to indulge in this interesting diversion at least three times a week. [footnote: it is now well known that this ceremony is a form of "marriage by capture" which is widely prevalent among barbarous peoples.--g.k. ( ).] after the conclusion of the ceremony we removed to an adjacent tent, and were surprised, as we came out into the open air, to see three or four koraks shouting and reeling about in an advanced stage of intoxication--celebrating, i suppose, the happy event which had just transpired. i knew that there was not a drop of alcoholic liquor in all northern kamchatka, nor, so far as i knew, anything from which it could be made, and it was a mystery to me how they had succeeded in becoming so suddenly, thoroughly, hopelessly, undeniably drunk. even ross browne's beloved washoe, with its "howling wilderness" saloons, could not have turned out more creditable specimens of intoxicated humanity than those before us. the exciting agent, whatever it might be, was certainly as quick in its operation, and as effective in its results, as any "tanglefoot" or "bottled lightning" known to modern civilisation. upon inquiry we learned to our astonishment that they had been eating a species of the plant vulgarly known as toadstool. there is a peculiar fungus of this class in siberia, known to the natives as "muk-a-moor," and as it possesses active intoxicating properties, it is used as a stimulant by nearly all the siberian tribes. [footnote: _agaricus muscarius_ or fly-agaric.] taken in large quantities it is a violent narcotic poison; but in small doses it produces all the effects of alcoholic liquor. its habitual use, however, completely shatters the nervous system, and its sale by russian traders to the natives has consequently been made a penal offence by russian law. in spite of all prohibitions, the trade is still secretly carried on, and i have seen twenty dollars' worth of furs bought with a single fungus. the koraks would gather it for themselves, but it requires the shelter of timber for its growth, and is not to be found on the barren steppes over which they wander; so that they are obliged for the most part to buy it, at enormous prices, from the russian traders. it may sound strangely to american ears, but the invitation which a convivial korak extends to his passing friend is not, "come in and have a drink," but, "won't you come in and take a toadstool?" not a very alluring proposal perhaps to a civilised toper, but one which has a magical effect upon a dissipated korak. as the supply of these toadstools is by no means equal to the demand, korak ingenuity has been greatly exercised in the endeavour to economise the precious stimulant, and make it go as far as possible. sometimes, in the course of human events, it becomes imperatively necessary that a whole band shall get drunk together, and they have only one toadstool to do it with. for a description of the manner in which this band gets drunk collectively and individually upon one fungus, and keeps drunk for a week, the curious reader is referred to goldsmith's _citizen of the world_, letter . it is but just to say, however, that this horrible practice is almost entirely confined to the settled koraks of penzhinsk gulf--the lowest, most degraded portion of the whole tribe. it may prevail to a limited extent among the wandering natives, but i never heard of more than one such instance outside of the penzhinsk gulf settlements. our travel for the next few days after leaving the third encampment was fatiguing and monotonous. the unvarying routine of our daily life in smoky korak tents, and the uniform flatness and barrenness of the country over which we journeyed, became inexpressibly tiresome, and we looked forward in longing anticipation to the russian settlement of gizhiga, at the head of gizhiginsk gulf, which was the mecca of our long pilgrimage. to spend more than a week at one time with the wandering koraks without becoming lonesome or homesick, requires an almost inexhaustible fertility of mental resource. one is thrown for entertainment entirely upon himself. no daily paper, with its fresh material for thought and discussion, comes to enliven the long blank evenings by the tent fire; no wars or rumours of wars, no _coup d'état_ of diplomacy, no excitement of political canvass ever agitates the stagnant intellectual atmosphere of korak existence. removed to an infinite distance, both physically and intellectually, from all of the interests, ambitions, and excitements which make up our world, the korak simply exists, like a human oyster, in the quiet waters of his monotonous life. an occasional birth or marriage, the sacrifice of a dog, or, on rare occasions, of a man to the korak ahriman, and the infrequent visits of a russian trader, are the most prominent events in his history, from the cradle to the grave. i found it almost impossible sometimes to realise, as i sat by the fire in a korak tent, that i was still in the modern world of railroads, telegraphs, and daily newspapers. i seemed to have been carried back by some enchantment through the long cycles of time, and made a dweller in the tents of shem and japheth. not a suggestion was there in all our surroundings of the vaunted enlightenment and civilisation of the nineteenth century, and as we gradually accustomed ourselves to the new and strange conditions of primitive barbarism, our recollections of a civilised life faded into the unreal imagery of a vivid dream. [illustration: ice scratcher used in stalking seals] chapter xx the korak tongue--religion of terror--incantations of shamans--killing of old and sick--reindeer superstition--korak character our long intercourse with the wandering koraks gave us an opportunity of observing many of their peculiarities, which would very likely escape the notice of a transient visitor; and as our journey until we reached the head of penzhinsk gulf was barren of incident, i shall give in this chapter all the information i could gather relative to the language, religion, superstitions, customs, and mode of life of the kamchatkan koraks. there can be no doubt whatever that the koraks and the powerful siberian tribe known as chukchis (or tchucktchis, according to wrangell) descended originally from the same stock, and migrated together from their ancient locations to the places where they now live. even after several centuries of separation, they resemble each other so closely that they can hardly be distinguished, and their languages differ less one from the other than the portuguese differs from the spanish. our korak interpreters found very little difficulty in conversing with chukchis; and a comparison of vocabularies which we afterward made showed only a slight dialectical variation, which could be easily accounted for by a few centuries of separation. none of the siberian languages with which i am acquainted are written, and, lacking a fixed standard of reference, they change with great rapidity. this is shown by a comparison of a modern chukchi vocabulary with the one compiled by m. de lesseps in . many words have altered so materially as to be hardly recognisable. others, on the contrary, such as "tin tin," ice, "oottoot," wood, "weeñgay," no, "ay," yes, and most of the numerals up to ten, have undergone no change whatever. both koraks and chukchis count by fives instead of tens, a peculiarity which is also noticeable in the language of the co-yukons in alaska. the korak numerals are:-- innín, one. née-ak°h, two. nee-ók°h, three. née-ák°h, four. míl-li-gen, five. in-nín míl-li-gen, five-one. née-ak°h " five-two. nee-ók°h " five-three. née-ák°h " five-four. meen-ye-geet-k°hin, ten. after ten they count ten-one, ten-two, etc., up to fifteen, and then ten-five-one; but their numerals become so hopelessly complicated when they get above twenty, that is would be easier to carry a pocketful of stones and count with them, than to pronounce the corresponding words. fifty-six, for instance, is "nee-akh-khleep-kin-meen-ye-geet-khin-par-ol-in-nín-míl-li-gen," and it is only fifty-six after it is all pronounced! it ought to be at least two hundred and sixty-three millions nine hundred and fourteen thousand seven hundred and one--and then it would be long. but the koraks rarely have occasion to use high numbers; and when they do, they have an abundance of time. it would be a hard day's work for a boy to explain in korak one of the miscellaneous problems in ray's higher arithmetic. to say × = , , would certainly entitle him to a recess of an hour and a reward of merit. we were never able to trace any resemblance whatever between the koraki-chukchi language and the languages spoken by the natives on the eastern side of bering strait. if there be any resemblance, it must be in grammar rather than in vocabulary. [illustration: a korak girl] the religion of all the natives of north-eastern siberia, wandering and settled, including six or seven widely different tribes, is that corrupted form of buddhism known as shamanism. it is a religion which varies considerably in different places and among different people; but with the koraks and chukchis it may be briefly defined as the worship of the evil spirits who are supposed to be embodied in all the mysterious powers and manifestations of nature, such as epidemic and contagious diseases, severe storms, famines, eclipses, and brilliant auroras. it takes its name from the shamáns or priests, who act as interpreters of the evil spirits' wishes and as mediators between them and man. all unnatural phenomena, and especially those of a disastrous and terrible nature, are attributed to the direct action of these evil spirits, and are considered as plain manifestations of their displeasure. it is claimed by many that the whole system of shamanism is a gigantic imposture practised by a few cunning priests upon the easy credulity of superstitious natives. this i am sure is a prejudiced view. no one who has ever lived with the siberian natives, studied their character, subjected himself to the same influences that surround them, and put himself as far as possible in their places, will ever doubt the sincerity of either priests or followers, or wonder that the worship of evil spirits should be their only religion. it is the only religion possible for such men in such circumstances. a recent writer [footnote: w.e.h. lecky, _history of rationalism in europe_.] of great fairness and impartiality has described so admirably the character of the siberian koraks, and the origin and nature of their religious belief, that i cannot do better than quote his words:-- "terror is everywhere the beginning of religion. the phenomena which impress themselves most forcibly on the mind of the savage are not those which enter manifestly into the sequence of natural laws, and which are productive of most beneficial effects; but those which are disastrous and apparently abnormal. gratitude is less vivid than fear, and the smallest infraction of a natural law produces a deeper impression than the most sublime of its ordinary operations. when, therefore, the most startling and terrible aspects of nature are presented to his mind--when the more deadly forms of disease or natural convulsion desolate his land, the savage derives from them an intensely realised perception of diabolical presence. in the darkness of the night; amid the yawning chasms and the wild echoes of the mountain gorge; under the blaze of the comet or the solemn gloom of the eclipse; when famine has blasted the land; when the earthquake and the pestilence have slaughtered their thousands; in every form of disease which refracts and distorts the reason, in all that is strange, portentous, and deadly, he feels and cowers before the supernatural. completely exposed to all the influences of nature, and completely ignorant of the chain of sequence that unites its various parts, he lives in continual dread of what he deems the direct and isolated acts of evil spirits. feeling them continually near him, he will naturally endeavour to enter into communion with them. he will strive to propitiate them with gifts. if some great calamity has fallen upon him, or if some vengeful passion has mastered his reason, he will attempt to invest himself with their authority, and his excited imagination will soon persuade him that he has succeeded in his desire." these pregnant words are the key to the religion of the siberian natives, and afford the only intelligible explanation of the origin of shamans. if any proof were needed that this system of religion is the natural outgrowth of human nature in certain conditions of barbarism, it would be furnished by the universal prevalence of shamanism in north-eastern siberia among so many diverse tribes of different character and different origin. the tribe of tunguses for instance, is certainly of chinese descent, and the tribe of yakuts is certainly turkish. both came from different regions, bringing different beliefs, superstitions, and modes of thought; but, when both were removed from all disturbing agencies and subjected to the same external influences, both developed precisely the same system of religious belief. if a band of ignorant, barbarous mahometans were transported to north-eastern siberia, and compelled to live alone in tents, century after century, amid the wild, gloomy scenery of the stanavoi mountains, to suffer terrific storms whose causes they could not explain, to lose their reindeer suddenly by an epidemic disease which defied human remedies, to be frightened by magnificent auroras that set the whole universe in a blaze, and decimated by pestilences whose nature they could not understand and whose disastrous effects they were powerless to avert--they would almost inevitably lose by degrees their faith in allah and mahomet, and become precisely such shamanists as the siberian koraks and chukchis are today. even a whole century of partial civilisation and christian training cannot wholly counteract the irresistible shamanistic influence which is exerted upon the mind by the wilder, more terrible manifestations of nature in these lonely and inhospitable regions. the kamchadals who accompanied me to the samanka mountains were the sons of christian parents, and had been brought up from infancy in the greek church; they were firm believers in the divine atonement and in divine providence, and prayed always night and morning for safety and preservation; yet, when overtaken by a storm in that gloomy range of mountains, the sense of the supernatural overcame their religious convictions, god seemed far away while evil spirits were near and active, and they sacrificed a dog, like very pagans, to propitiate the diabolical wrath of which the storm was an evidence. i could cite many similar instances, where the strongest and apparently most sincere convictions of the reality of divine government and superintendence have been overcome by the influence upon the imagination of some startling and unusual phenomenon of nature. man's actions are governed not so much by what he intellectually believes as by what he vividly realises; and it is this vivid realisation of diabolical presence which has given rise to the religion of shamanism. the duties of the shamans or priests among the koraks are, to make incantations over the sick, to hold communication with the evil spirits, and to interpret their wishes and decrees to man. whenever any calamity, such as disease, storm, or famine, comes upon a band, it is of course attributed to some spirit's displeasure, and the shaman is consulted as to the best method of appeasing his wrath. the priest to whom application is made assembles the people in one of the largest tents of the encampment, puts on a long robe marked with fantastic figures of birds and beasts and curious hieroglyphic emblems, unbinds his long black hair, and taking up a large native drum, begins to sing in a subdued voice to the accompaniment of slow, steady drum-beats. as the song progresses it increases in energy and rapidity, the priest's eyes seem to become fixed, he contorts his body as if in spasms, and increases the vehemence of his wild chant until the drum-beats make one continuous roll. then, springing to his feet and jerking his head convulsively until his long hair fairly snaps, he begins a frantic dance about the tent, and finally sinks apparently exhausted into his seat. in a few moments he delivers to the awe-stricken natives the message which he has received from the evil spirits, and which consists generally of an order to sacrifice to them a certain number of dogs or reindeer, or perhaps a man. [illustration: korak dogs sacrificed to propitiate the spirits of evil] in these wild incantations the priests sometimes practise all sorts of frauds upon their credulous followers, by pretending to swallow live coals and to pierce their bodies with knives; but, in a majority of instances, the shaman seems actually to believe that he is under the control and guidance of diabolical intelligence. the natives themselves, however, seem to doubt occasionally the priest's pretended inspiration, and whip him severely to test the sincerity of his professions and the genuineness of his revelations. if his fortitude sustains him under the infliction without any exhibition of human weakness or suffering, his authority as a minister of the evil spirits is vindicated, and his commands obeyed. aside from the sacrifices which are ordered by the shamans, the koraks offer general oblations at least twice a year, to assure a good catch of fish and seal and a prosperous season. we frequently saw twenty or thirty dogs suspended by the necks on long poles over a single encampment. quantities of green grass are collected during the, summer and twisted into wreaths, to be hung around the necks of the slaughtered animals; and offerings of tobacco are always thrown to the evil spirits when the koraks cross the summit of a mountain. the bodies of the dead, among all the wandering tribes, are burned, together with all their effects, in the hope of a final resurrection of both spirit and matter; and the sick, as soon as their recovery becomes hopeless, are either stoned to death or speared. we found it to be true, as we had been told by the russians and the kamchadals, that the koraks murdered all their old people as soon as sickness or the infirmities of age unfitted them for the hardships of a nomadic life. long experience has given them a terrible familiarity with the best and quickest methods of taking life; and they often explained to us with the most sickening minuteness, as we sat at night in their smoky _pologs_, the different ways in which a man could be killed, and pointed out the vital parts of the body where a spear or knife thrust would prove most instantly fatal. i thought of de quincey's celebrated essay upon "murder considered as one of the fine arts," and of the field which a korak encampment would afford to his "society of connoisseurs in murder." all koraks are taught to look upon such a death as the natural end of their existence, and they meet it generally with perfect composure. instances are rare where a man desires to outlive the period of his physical activity and usefulness. they are put to death in the presence of the whole band, with elaborate but unintelligible ceremonies; their bodies are then burned, and the ashes suffered to be scattered and blown away by the wind. these customs of murdering the old and sick, and burning the bodies of the dead, grow naturally out of the wandering life which the koraks have adopted, and are only illustrations of the powerful influence which physical laws exert everywhere upon the actions and moral feelings of men. they both follow logically and almost inevitably from the very nature of the country and climate. the barrenness of the soil in north-eastern siberia, and the severity of the long winter, led man to domesticate the reindeer as the only means of obtaining a subsistence; the domestication of the reindeer necessitated a wandering life; a wandering life made sickness and infirmity unusually burdensome to both sufferers and supporters; and this finally led to the murder of the old and sick, as a measure both of policy and mercy. the same causes gave rise to the custom of burning the dead. their nomadic life made it impossible for them to have any one place of common sepulture, and only with the greatest difficulty could they dig graves at all in the perpetually frozen ground. bodies could not be left to be torn by wolves, and burning them was the only practicable alternative. neither of these customs presupposes any original and innate savageness or barbarity on the part of the koraks themselves. they are the natural development of certain circumstances, and only prove that the strongest emotions of human nature, such as filial reverence, fraternal affection, selfish love of life, and respect for the remains of friends, all are powerless to oppose the operation of great natural laws. the russian church is endeavouring by missionary enterprise to convert all the siberian tribes to christianity; and although they have met with a certain degree of apparent success among the settled tribes of yukagirs (yoo-kag'-eers), chuances (choo-an'-ces), and kamchadals, the wandering natives still cling to shamanism, and there are more than , followers of that religion in the scanty population of north-eastern siberia. any permanent and genuine conversion of the wandering koraks and chukchis must be preceded by some educational enlightenment and an entire change in their mode of life. among the many superstitions of the wandering koraks and chukchis, one of the most noticeable is their reluctance to part with a living reindeer. you may purchase as many dead deer as you choose, up to five hundred, for about seventy cents apiece; but a living deer they will not give to you for love nor money. you may offer them what they consider a fortune in tobacco, copper kettles, beads, and scarlet cloth, for a single live reindeer, but they will persistently refuse to sell him; yet, if you will allow them to kill the very same animal, you can have his carcass for one small string of common glass beads. it is useless to argue with them about this absurd superstition. you can get no reason for it or explanation of it, except that "to sell a live reindeer would be _atkin_ [bad]." as it was very necessary in the construction of our proposed telegraph line to have trained reindeer of our own, we offered every conceivable inducement to the koraks to part with one single deer; but all our efforts were in vain. they could sell us a hundred dead deer for a hundred pounds of tobacco; but five hundred pounds would not tempt them to part with a single animal as long as the breath of life was in his body. during the two years and a half which we spent in siberia, no one of our parties, so far as i know, ever succeeded in buying from the koraks or chukchis a single living reindeer. all the deer which we eventually owned--some eight hundred--we obtained from the wandering tunguses. [footnote: this feeling or superstition eventually disappeared or was overcome. many years later, living reindeer were bought in north-eastern siberia for transportation to alaska.] [illustration: a race of wandering korak reindeer teams] the koraks are probably the wealthiest deer-owners in siberia, and consequently in the world. many of the herds which we saw in northern kamchatka numbered from eight to twelve thousand; and we were told that a certain rich korak, who lived in the middle of the great tundra, had three immense herds in different places, numbering in the aggregate thirty thousand head. the care of these great herds is almost the only occupation of the koraks' lives. they are obliged to travel constantly from place to place to find them food, and to watch them night and day to protect them from wolves. every day eight or ten koraks, armed with spears and knives, leave the encampment just before dark, walk a mile or two to the place where the deer happen to be pastured, build themselves little huts of trailing pine branches, about three feet in height and two in diameter, and squat in them throughout the long, cold hours of an arctic night, watching for wolves. the worse the weather is, the greater the necessity for vigilance. sometimes, in the middle of a dark winter's night, when a terrible north-easterly storm is howling across the steppe in clouds of flying snow, a band of wolves will make a fierce, sudden attack upon a herd of deer, and scatter it to the four winds. this it is the business of the korak sentinels to prevent. alone and almost unsheltered on a great ocean of snow, each man squats down in his frail beehive of a hut, and spends the long winter nights in watching the magnificent auroras, which seem to fill the blue vault of heaven with blood and dye the earth in crimson, listening to the pulsating of the blood in his ears and the faint distant howls of his enemies the wolves. patiently he endures cold which freezes mercury and storms which sweep away his frail shelter like chaff in a mist of flying snow. nothing discourages him; nothing frightens him into seeking the shelter of the tents. i have seen him watching deer at night, with nose and cheeks frozen so that they had turned black; and have come upon him early cold winter mornings, squatting under three or four bushes, with his face buried in his fur coat, as if he were dead. i could never pass one of those little bush huts on a great desolate tundra without thinking of the man who had once squatted in it alone, and trying to imagine what had been his thoughts while watching through long dreary nights for the first faint flush of dawn. had he never wondered, as the fiery arms of the aurora waved over his head, what caused these mysterious streamers? had the solemn far-away stars which circled ceaselessly above the snowy plain never suggested to him the possibility of other brighter, happier worlds than this? had not some "--revealings faint and far, stealing down from moon and star, kindled in that human clod thought of destiny and god?" alas for poor unaided human nature! supernatural influences he could and did feel; but the drum and wild shrieks of the shamán showed how utterly he failed to understand their nature and teachings. the natural disposition of the wandering koraks is thoroughly good. they treat their women and children with great kindness; and during all my intercourse with them, extending over two years, i never saw a woman or a child struck. their honesty is remarkable. frequently they would harness up a team of reindeer after we had left their tents in the morning, and overtake us at a distance of five or ten miles, with a knife, a pipe, or some such trifle which we had overlooked and forgotten in the hurry of departure. our sledges, loaded with tobacco, beads, and trading goods of all kinds, were left unguarded outside their tents; but never, so far as we knew, was a single article stolen. we were treated by many bands with as much kindness and generous hospitality as i ever experienced in a civilised country and among christian people; and if i had no money or friends, i would appeal to a band of wandering koraks for help with much more confidence than i should ask the same favour of many an american family. cruel and barbarous they may be, according to our ideas of cruelty and barbarity; but they have never been known to commit an act of treachery, and i would trust my life as unreservedly in their hands as i would in the hands of any other uncivilised people whom i have ever known. night after night, as we journeyed northward, the polar star approached nearer and nearer to the zenith, until finally, at the sixty-second parallel of latitude, we caught sight of the white peaks of the stanavoi mountains, at the head of penzhinsk gulf, which marked the northern boundary of kamchatka. under the shelter of their snowy slopes we camped for the last time in the smoky tents of the kamchatkan koraks, ate for the last time from their wooden troughs, and bade good-by with little regret to the desolate steppes of the peninsula and to tent life with its wandering people. [illustration: women's knives used in making clothing] chapter xxi first frost-bite--the settled koraks hour-glass yurts--climbing down chimneys--yurt interiors--legs as features--travelling by "pavoska"--bad character of settled koraks on the morning of november d, in a clear, bracing atmosphere of twenty-five degrees below zero, we arrived at the mouth of the large river called the penzhina, which empties into penzhinsk gulf, at the head of the okhotsk sea. a dense cloud of frozen mist, which hung over the middle of the gulf, showed the presence there of open water; but the mouth of the river was completely choked up with great hummocks, rugged green slabs, and confused masses of ice, hurled in by a south-westerly storm, and frozen together in the wildest shapes of angular disorder. through the grey mist we could see dimly, on a high bluff opposite, the strange outlines of the x-shaped _yurts_ of the kamenoi koraks. leaving our drivers to get the reindeer and sledges across as best they could, the major, dodd, and i started on foot, picking our way between huge irregular blocks of clear green ice, climbing on hands and knees over enormous bergs, falling into wide, deep crevices, and stumbling painfully across the _chevaux-de-frise_ of sharp splintered fragments into which the ice had been broken by a heavy sea. we had almost reached the other side, when dodd suddenly cried out, "_oh_, kennan! your nose is all white; rub it with snow--quick!" i have not the slightest doubt that the rest of my face also turned white at this alarming announcement; for the loss of my nose at the very outset of my arctic career would be a very serious misfortune. i caught up a handful of snow, however, mixed with sharp splinters of ice, and rubbed the insensible member until there was not a particle of skin left on the end of it, and then continued the friction with my mitten until my arm ached. if energetic treatment would save it, i was determined not to lose it that time. feeling at last a painful thrill of returning circulation, i relaxed my efforts, and climbed up the steep bluff behind dodd and the major, to the korak village of kamenoi. the settlement resembled as much as anything a collection of titanic wooden hour-glasses, which had been half shaken down and reduced to a state of rickety dilapidation by an earthquake. the houses--if houses they could be called--were about twenty feet in height, rudely constructed of driftwood which had been brought down by the river, and could be compared in shape to nothing but hour-glasses. they had no doors, or windows of any kind, and could be entered only by climbing up a pole on the outside, and sliding down another pole through the chimney--a mode of entrance whose practicability depended entirely upon the activity and intensity of the fire which burned underneath. the smoke and sparks, although sufficiently disagreeable, were trifles of comparative insignificance. i remember being told, in early infancy, that santa claus always came into a house through the chimney; and although i accepted the statement with the unreasoning faith of childhood, i could never understand how that singular feat of climbing down a chimney could be safely accomplished. to satisfy myself, i felt a strong inclination, every christmas, to try the experiment, and was only prevented from doing so by the consideration of stove-pipes. i might succeed, i thought, in getting down the chimney; but coming out into a room through an eight-inch stove-pipe and a narrow stove-door was utterly out of the question. my first entrance into a korak _yurt_, however, at kamenoi, solved all my childish difficulties, and proved the possibility of entering a house in the eccentric way which santa claus is supposed to adopt. a large crowd of savage-looking fur-clad natives had gathered around us when we entered the village, and now stared at us with stupid curiosity as we made our first attempt at climbing a pole to get into a house. out of deference for the major's rank and superior attainments, we permitted him to go first. he succeeded very well in getting up the first pole, and lowered himself with sublime faith into the dark narrow chimney hole, out of which were pouring clouds of smoke; but at this critical moment, when his head was still dimly visible in the smoke, and his body out of sight in the chimney, he suddenly came to grief. the holes in the log down which he was climbing were too small to admit even his toes, covered as they were with heavy fur boots; and there he hung in the chimney, afraid to drop and unable to climb out--a melancholy picture of distress. tears ran out of his closed eyes as the smoke enveloped his head, and he only coughed and strangled whenever he tried to shout for help. at last a native on the inside, startled at the appearance of his struggling body, came to his assistance, and succeeded in lowering him safely to the ground. profiting by his experience, dodd and i paid no attention to the holes, but putting our arms around the smooth log, slid swiftly down until we struck bottom. as i opened my tearful eyes, i was saluted by a chorus of drawling "zda-ro'-o-o-va's" from half a dozen skinny, greasy old women, who sat cross-legged on a raised platform around the fire, sewing fur clothes. the interior of a korak _yurt_--that is, of one of the wooden _yurts_ of the _settled_ koraks--presents a strange and not very inviting appearance to one who has never become accustomed by long habit to its dirt, smoke, and frigid atmosphere. it receives its only light, and that of a cheerless, gloomy character, through the round hole, about twenty feet above the floor, which serves as window, door, and chimney, and which is reached by a round log with holes in it, that stands perpendicularly in the centre. the beams, rafters, and logs which compose the _yurt_ are all of a glossy blackness, from the smoke in which they are constantly enveloped. a wooden platform, raised about a foot from the earth, extends out from the walls on three sides to a width of six feet, leaving an open spot eight or ten feet in diameter in the centre for the fire and a huge copper kettle of melting snow. on the platform are pitched three or four square skin _pologs_, which serve as sleeping apartments for the inmates and as refuges from the smoke, which sometimes becomes almost unendurable. a little circle of flat stones on the ground, in the centre of the _yurt_, forms the fireplace, over which is usually simmering a kettle of fish or reindeer meat, which, with dried salmon, seal's blubber, and rancid oil, makes up the korak bill of fare. everything that you see or touch bears the distinguishing marks of korak origin--grease and smoke. whenever any one enters the _yurt_, you are apprised of the fact by a total eclipse of the chimney hole and a sudden darkness, and as you look up through a mist of reindeer hairs, scraped off from the coming man's fur coat, you see a thin pair of legs descending the pole in a cloud of smoke. the legs of your acquaintances you soon learn to recognise by some peculiarity of shape or covering; and their faces, considered as means of personal identification, assume a secondary importance. if you see ivan's legs coming down the chimney, you feel a moral certainty that ivan's head is somewhere above in the smoke; and nicolai's boots, appearing in bold relief against the sky through the entrance hole, afford as satisfactory proof of nicolai's identity as his head would, provided that part of his body came in first. legs, therefore, are the most expressive features of a korak's countenance, when considered from an interior standpoint. when snow drifts up against the _yurt_, so as to give the dogs access to the chimney, they take a perfect delight in lying around the hole, peering down into the _yurt_, and snuffing the odours of boiling fish which rise from the huge kettle underneath. not unfrequently they get into a grand comprehensive free fight for the best place of observation; and just as you are about to take your dinner of boiled salmon off the fire, down comes a struggling, yelping dog into the kettle, while his triumphant antagonist looks down through the chimney hole with all the complacency of gratified vengeance upon his unfortunate victim. a korak takes the half-scalded dog by the back of the neck, carries him up the chimney, pitches him over the edge of the _yurt_ into a snow-drift, and returns with unruffled serenity to eat the fish-soup which has thus been irregularly flavoured with dog and thickened with hairs. hairs, and especially reindeer's hairs, are among the indispensable ingredients of everything cooked in a korak _yurt_, and we soon came to regard them with perfect indifference. no matter what precautions we might take, they were sure to find their way into our tea and soup, and stick persistently to our fried meat. some one was constantly going out or coming in over the fire, and the reindeerskin coats scraping back and forth through the chimney hole shed a perfect cloud of short grey hairs, which sifted down over and into everything of an eatable nature underneath. our first meal in a korak _yurt_, therefore, at kamenoi, was not at all satisfactory. [illustration: hour-glass houses of the settled koraks from a model in the american museum of natural history] we had not been twenty minutes in the settlement before the _yurt_ that we occupied was completely crowded with stolid, brutal-looking men, dressed in spotted deerskin clothes, wearing strings of coloured beads in their ears, and carrying heavy knives two feet in length in sheaths tied around their legs. they were evidently a different class of natives from any we had yet seen, and their savage animal faces did not inspire us with much confidence. a good-looking russian, however, soon made his appearance, and coming up to us with uncovered head, bowed and introduced himself as a cossack from gizhiga, sent to meet us by the russian governor at that place. the courier who had preceded us from lesnoi had reached gizhiga ten days before us, and the governor had despatched a cossack at once to meet us at kamenoi, and conduct us through the settled korak villages around the head of penzhinsk gulf. the cossack soon cleared the _yurt_ of natives, and the major proceeded to question him about the character of the country north and west of gizhiga, the distance from kamenoi to the russian outpost of anadyrsk, the facilities for winter travel, and the time necessary for the journey. fearful for the safety of the party of men which he presumed to have been landed by the engineer-in-chief at the mouth of the anadyr river, major abaza had intended to go directly from kamenoi to anadyrsk himself in search of them, and to send dodd and me westward along the coast of the okhotsk sea to meet mahood and bush. the cossack, however, told us that a party of men from the anadyr river had arrived at gizhiga on dog-sledges just previous to his departure, and that they had brought no news of any americans in the vicinity of anadyrsk or on the river. col. bulkley, the chief-engineer of the enterprise, had promised us, when we sailed from san francisco, that he would land a party of men with a whale boat at or near the mouth of the anadyr river, early enough in the season so that they could ascend the river to the settlement of anadyrsk and open communication with us by the first winter road. this he had evidently failed to do; for, if a party had been so landed, the anadyrsk people would certainly have heard something about it. the unfavourable nature of the country around bering strait, or the lateness of the season when the company's vessels reached that point, had probably compelled the abandonment of this part of the original plan. major abaza had always disapproved the idea of leaving a party near bering strait; but he could not help feeling a little disappointment when he found that no such party had been landed, and that he was left with only four men to explore the eighteen hundred miles of country between the strait and the amur river. the cossack said that no difficulty would be experienced in getting dog-sledges and men at gizhiga to explore any part of the country west or north of that place, and that the russian governor would give us every possible assistance. [illustration: interior of a korak yurt. getting fire with the fire drill photograph in the american museum of natural history] under these circumstances there was nothing to be done but to push on to gizhiga, which could be reached, the cossack said, in two or three days. the kamenoi koraks were ordered to provide a dozen dog-sledges at once, to carry us on to the next settlement of shestakóva; and the whole village was soon engaged, under the cossack's superintendence, in transferring our baggage and provisions from the deer-sledges of the wandering koraks to the long, narrow dog-sledges of their settled relations. our old drivers were then paid off in tobacco, beads, and showy calico prints, and after a good deal of quarrelling and disputing about loads between the koraks and our new cossack kerrillof, everything was reported ready. although it was now almost noon, the air was still keen as a knife; and, muffling up our faces and heads in great tippets, we took seats on our respective sledges, and the fierce kamenoi dogs went careering out of the village and down the bluff in a perfect cloud of snow, raised by the spiked _oerstels_ of their drivers. the major, dodd, and i were travelling in covered sledges, known to the siberians as "pavoskas" (pah-voss'-kahs), and the reckless driving of the kamenoi koraks made us wish, in less than an hour, that we had taken some other means of conveyance, from which we could escape more readily in case of accident or overturn. as it was, we were so boxed up that we could hardly move without assistance. our _pavoskas_ resembled very much long narrow coffins, covered with sealskin, mounted on runners, and roofed over at the head by a stiff hood just large enough to sit up in. a heavy curtain was fastened to the edge of this top or hood, and in bad weather it could be pulled down and buttoned so as to exclude the air and flying snow. when we were seated in these sledges our legs were thrust down into the long coffin-shaped boxes upon which the drivers sat, and our heads and shoulders sheltered by the sealskin hoods. imagine an eight-foot coffin mounted on runners, and a man sitting up in it with a bushel basket over his head, and you will have a very correct idea of a siberian _pavoska_. our legs were immovably fixed in boxes, and our bodies so wedged in with pillows and heavy furs that we could neither get out nor turn over. in this helpless condition we were completely at our drivers' mercy; if they chose to let us slide over the edge of a precipice in the mountains, all we could do was to shut our eyes and trust in providence. seven times in less than three hours my kamenoi driver, with the assistance of fourteen crazy dogs and a spiked stick, turned my _pavoska_ exactly bottom side up, dragged it in that position until the hood was full of snow, and then left me standing on my head, with my legs in a box and my face in a snow-drift, while he took a smoke and calmly meditated upon the difficulties of mountain travel and the versatility of dog-sledges! it was enough to make job curse his grandmother! i threatened him with a revolver, and swore indignantly by all the evil spirits in the korak theogony, that if he upset me in that way again i would kill him without benefit of clergy, and carry mourning and lamentation to the houses of all his relatives. but it was of no use. he did not know enough to be afraid of a pistol, and could not understand my murderous threats. he merely squatted down upon his heels on the snow, puffed his cheeks out with smoke, and stared at me in stupid amazement, as if i were some singular species of wild animal, which exhibited a strange propensity to jabber and gesticulate in the most ridiculous manner without any apparent cause. then, whenever he wanted to ice his sledge-runners, which was as often as three times an hour, he coolly capsized the _pavoska_, propped it up with his spiked stick, and i stood on my head while he rubbed the runners down with water and a piece of deerskin. this finally drove me to desperation, and i succeeded, after a prolonged struggle, in getting out of my coffin-shaped box, and seated myself with indignant feelings and murderous inclinations by the side of my imperturbable driver. here my unprotected nose began to freeze again, and my time, until we reached shestakóva, was about equally divided between rubbing that troublesome feature with one hand, holding on with the other, and picking myself up out of snow-drifts with both. the only satisfaction i had was in seeing the state of exasperation to which the major was reduced by the stupidity and ugliness of his driver. whenever he wanted to go on, the driver insisted upon stopping to take a smoke; when he wanted to smoke, the driver capsized him skilfully into a snow-drift; when he wanted to walk down a particularly steep hill, the driver shouted to his dogs and carried him to the bottom like an avalanche, at the imminent peril of his life; when he desired to sleep, the driver intimated by impudent gestures that he had better get out and walk up the side of a mountain; until, finally, the major called kerrillof and made him tell the korak distinctly and emphatically, that if he did not obey orders and show a better disposition, he would be lashed on his sledge, carried to gizhiga, and turned over to the russian governor for punishment. he paid some attention to this; but all our drivers exhibited an insolent rudeness which we had never before met with in siberia, and which was very provoking. the major declared that when our line should be in process of construction and he should have force enough to do it, he would teach the kamenoi koraks a lesson that they would not soon forget. we travelled all the afternoon over a broken country, perfectly destitute of vegetation, which lay between a range of bare white mountains and the sea, and just before dark reached the settlement of shestakóva, which was situated on the coast, at the mouth of a small wooded stream. stopping there only a few moments to rest our dogs, we pushed on to another korak village called mikina (mee-kin-ah), ten miles farther west, where we finally stopped for the night. [illustration: a woman entering a yurt of the settled koraks] mikina was only a copy of kamenoi on a smaller scale. it had the same hour-glass houses, the same conical _balagáns_ elevated on stilts, and the same large skeletons of sealskin _baideras_ (bai'-der-ahs') or ocean canoes were ranged in a row on the beach. we climbed up the best-looking _yurt_ in the village--over which hung a dead disembowelled dog, with a wreath of green grass around his neck--and slid down the chimney into a miserable room filled to suffocation with blue smoke, lighted only by a small fire on the earthen floor, and redolent of decayed fish and rancid oil. viushin soon had a teakettle over the fire, and in twenty minutes we were seated like cross-legged turks on the raised platform at one end of the _yurt_, munching hardbread and drinking tea, while about twenty ugly, savage-looking men squatted in a circle around us and watched our motions. the settled koraks of penzhinsk gulf are unquestionably the worst, ugliest, most brutal and degraded natives in all north-eastern siberia. they do not number more than three or four hundred, and live in five different settlements along the seacoast; but they made us more trouble than all the other inhabitants of siberia and kamchatka together. they led, originally, a wandering life like the other koraks; but, losing their deer by some misfortune or disease, they built themselves houses of driftwood on the seacoast, settled down, and now gain a scanty subsistence by fishing, catching seals, and hunting for carcasses of whales which have been killed by american whaling vessels, stripped of blubber, and then cast ashore by the sea. they are cruel and brutal in disposition, insolent to everybody, revengeful, dishonest, and untruthful. everything which the wandering koraks are they are not. the reasons for the great difference between the settled and the wandering koraks are various. in the first place, the former live in fixed villages, which are visited very frequently by the russian traders; and through these traders and russian peasants they have received many of the worst vices of civilisation without any of its virtues. to this must be added the demoralising influence of american whalers, who have given the settled koraks rum and cursed them with horrible diseases, which are only aggravated by their diet and mode of life. they have learned from the russians to lie, cheat, and steal; and from whalers to drink rum and be licentious. besides all these vices, they eat the intoxicating siberian toadstool in inordinate quantities, and this habit alone will in time debase and brutalise any body of men to the last degree. from nearly all these demoralising influences the wandering koraks are removed by the very nature of their life. they spend more of their time in the open air, they have healthier and better-balanced physical constitutions, they rarely see russian traders or drink russian vodka, and they are generally temperate, chaste, and manly in their habits. as a natural consequence they are better men, morally, physically, and intellectually, than the settled natives ever will or can be. i have very sincere and hearty admiration for many wandering koraks whom i met on the great siberian tundras but their settled relatives are the worst specimens of men that i ever saw in all northern asia, from bering strait to the ural mountains. chapter xxii first attempt at dog-driving--unpremeditated profanity--a runaway--arrival at gizhiga--hospitality of the ispravnik--plans for the winter we left mikina early, november d, and started out upon another great snowy plain, where there was no vegetation whatever except a little wiry grass and a few meagre patches of trailing-pine. ever since leaving lesnoi i had been studying attentively the art, or science, whichever it be, of dog-driving, with the fixed but unexpressed resolution that at some future time, when everything should be propitious, i would assume the control of my own team, and astonish dodd and the natives with a display of my skill as a _kaiur_ (kai-oor). [illustration: settled koraks in a trial of strength] i had found by some experience that these unlettered koraks estimated a man, not so much by what he knew which they did not, as by what he knew concerning their own special and peculiar pursuits; and i determined to demonstrate, even to their darkened understandings, that the knowledge of civilisation was universal in its application, and that the white man, notwithstanding his disadvantage in colour, could drive dogs better by intuition than they could by the aggregated wisdom of centuries; that in fact he could, if necessary, "evolve the principles of dog-driving out of the depths of his moral consciousness." i must confess, however, that i was not a thorough convert to my own ideas; and i did not disdain therefore to avail myself of the results of native experience, as far as they coincided with my own convictions, as to the nature of the true and beautiful in dog-driving. i had watched every motion of my korak driver; had learned theoretically the manner of thrusting the spiked stick between the-uprights of the runners into the snow, to act as a brake; had committed to memory and practised assiduously the guttural monosyllables which meant, in dog-language, "right" and "left," as well as many others which meant something else, but which i had heard addressed to dogs; and i laid the flattering unction to my soul that i could drive as well as a korak, if not better. to my inexperienced eye it was as easy as losing money in california mining stocks. on this day, therefore, as the road was good and the weather propitious, i determined to put my ideas, original as well as acquired, to the test of practice. i accordingly motioned my korak driver to take a back seat and deliver up to me the insignia of office. i observed in the expression of his lips, as he handed me the spiked stick, a sort of latent smile of ridicule, which indicated a very low estimate of my dog-driving abilities; but i treated it as knowledge should always treat the sneers of ignorance--with silent contempt; and seating myself firmly astride the sledge back of the arch, i shouted to the dogs, "noo! pashol!" my voice failed to produce the startling effect that i had anticipated. the leader--a grim, bluff nestor of a dog--glanced carelessly over his shoulder and very perceptibly slackened his pace. this sudden and marked contempt for my authority on the part of the dogs did more than all the sneers of the koraks to shake my confidence in my own skill. but my resources were not yet exhausted, and i hurled monosyllable, dissyllable, and polysyllable at their devoted heads, shouted "akh! te shelma! proclataya takaya! smatree! ya tibi dam!" but all in vain; the dogs were evidently insensible to rhetorical fireworks of this description, and manifested their indifference by a still slower gait. as i poured out upon them the last vial of my verbal wrath, dodd, who understood the language that i was so recklessly using, drove slowly up, and remarked carelessly, "you swear pretty well for a beginner." had the ground opened beneath me i should have been less astonished. "swear! i swear! you don't mean to say that i've been swearing?"--"certainly you have, like a pirate." i dropped my spiked stick in dismay. were these the principles of dog-driving which i had evolved out of the depths of my _moral_ consciousness? they seemed rather to have come from the depths of my _im_moral _un_consciousness. "why, you reckless reprobate!" i exclaimed impressively, "didn't you teach me those very words yourself?"--"certainly i did," was the unabashed reply; "but you didn't ask me what they meant; you asked how to pronounce them correctly, and i told you. i didn't know but that you were making researches in comparative philology--trying to prove the unity of the human race by identity of oaths, or by a comparison of profanity to demonstrate that the digger indians are legitimately descended from the chinese. you know that your head (which is a pretty good one in other respects) always _was_ full of such nonsense."--"dodd," i observed, with a solemnity which i intended should awaken repentance in his hardened sensibilities, "i have been betrayed unwittingly into the commission of sin; and as a little more or less won't materially alter my guilt, i've as good a notion as ever i had to give you the benefit of some of your profane instruction." dodd laughed derisively and drove on. this little episode considerable dampened my enthusiasm, and made me very cautious in my use of foreign language. i feared the existence of terrific imprecations in the most common dog-phrases, and suspected lurking profanity even in the monosyllabic "khta" and "hoogh," which i had been taught to believe meant "right" and "left." the dogs, quick to observe any lack of attention on the part of their driver, now took encouragement from my silence and exhibited a doggish propensity to stop and rest, which was in direct contravention of all discipline, and which they would not have dared to do with an experienced driver. determined to vindicate my authority by more forcible measures, i launched my spiked stick like a harpoon at the leader, intending to have it fall so that i could pick it up as the sledge passed. the dog however dodged it cleverly, and it rolled away ten feet from the road. just at that moment three or four wild reindeer bounded out from behind a little rise of ground three or four hundred yards away, and galloped across the steppe toward a deep precipitous ravine, through which ran a branch of the mikina river. the dogs, true to their wolfish instincts, started with fierce, excited howls in pursuit. i made a frantic grasp at my spiked stick as we rushed past, but failed to reach it, and away we went over the tundra toward the ravine, the sledge half the time on one runner, and rebounding from the hard _sastrugi_ (sas-troo'-gee) or snow-drifts with a force that suggested speedy dislocation of one's joints. the korak, with more common sense than i had given him credit for, had rolled off the sledge several seconds before, and a backward glance showed a miscellaneous bundle of arms and legs revolving rapidly over the snow in my wake. i had no time, however, with ruin staring me in the face, to commiserate his misfortune. my energies were all devoted to checking the terrific speed with which we were approaching the ravine. without the spiked stick i was perfectly helpless, and in a moment we were on the brink. i shut my eyes, clung tightly to the arch, and took the plunge. about half-way down, the descent became suddenly steeper, and the lead-dog swerved to one side, bringing the sledge around like the lash of a whip, overturning it, and shooting me like a huge living meteor through the air into a deep soft drift of snow at the bottom. i must have fallen at least eighteen feet, for i buried myself entirely, with the exception of my lower extremities, which, projecting above the snow, kicked a faint signal for rescue. encumbered with heavy furs, i extricated myself with difficulty; and as i at last emerged with three pints of snow down my neck, i saw the round, leering face of my late driver grinning at me through the bushes on the edge of the bluff. "ooma," he hailed. "well," replied the snowy figure standing waist-high in the drift.--"amerikanski nyett dobra kaiur, eh?" [american no good driver]. "nyett sofsem dobra" was the melancholy reply as i waded out. the sledge, i found, had become entangled in the bushes near me, and the dogs were all howling in chorus, nearly wild with the restraint. i was so far satisfied with my experiment that i did not desire to repeat it at present, and made no objections to the korak's assuming again his old position. i was fully convinced, by the logic of circumstances, that the science of dog-driving demanded more careful and earnest consideration than i had yet given to it; and i resolved to study carefully its elementary principles, as expounded by its korak professors, before attempting again to put my own ideas upon the subject into practice. as we came out of the ravine upon the open steppe i saw the rest of our party a mile away, moving rapidly toward the korak village of kuil (koo-eel'). we passed kuil late in the afternoon, and camped for the night in a forest of birch, poplar, and aspen trees, on the banks of the paren river. we were now only about seventy miles from gizhiga. on the following night we reached a small log _yurt_ on a branch of the gizhiga river, which had been built there by the government to shelter travellers, and friday morning, november th, about eleven o'clock, we caught sight of the red church-steeple which marked the location of the russian settlement of gizhiga. no one who has not travelled for three long months through a wilderness like kamchatka, camped out in storms among desolate mountains, slept for three weeks in the smoky tents, and yet smokier and dirtier _yurts_ of the koraks, and lived altogether like a perfect savage or barbarian---no one who has not experienced this can possibly understand with what joyful hearts we welcomed that red church steeple, and the civilisation of which it was the sign. for almost a month we had slept every night on the ground or the snow; had never seen a chair, a table, a bed, or a mirror; had never been undressed night or day; and had washed our faces only three or four times in an equal number of weeks! we were grimy and smoky from climbing up and down korak chimneys; our hair was long and matted around our ears; the skin had peeled from our noses and cheek-bones where it had been frozen; our cloth coats and trousers were grey with reindeer hairs from our fur _kukhlankas_; and we presented, generally, as wild and neglected an appearance as men could present, and still retain any lingering traces of better days. we had no time or inclination, however, to "fix up"; our dogs dashed at a mad gallop into the village with a great outcry, which awakened a responsive chorus of howls from two or three hundred other canine throats; our drivers shouted "khta! khta! hoogh! hoogh!" and raised clouds of snow with their spiked sticks as we rushed through the streets, and the whole population came running to their doors to ascertain the cause of the infernal tumult. one after another our fifteen sledges went careering through the village, and finally drew up before a large, comfortable house, with double glass windows, where arrangements had been made, kerrillof said, for our reception. hardly had we entered a large, neatly swept and scrubbed room, and thrown off our heavy frosty furs, than the door again opened, and in rushed a little impetuous, quick-motioned man, with a heavy auburn moustache, and light hair cut short all over his head, dressed in neat broadcloth coat and trousers and a spotless linen shirt, with seal rings on his fingers, a plain gold chain at his vest button, and a cane. we recognised him at once as the ispravnik, or russian governor. dodd and i made a sudden attempt to escape from the room, but we were too late, and saluting our visitor with "zdrastvuitia," [footnote: "good health," or "be in health," the russian greeting.] we sat down awkwardly enough on our chairs, rolled our smoky hands up in our scarlet and yellow cotton handkerchiefs, and, with a vivid consciousness of our dirty faces and generally disreputable appearance, tried to look self-possessed, and to assume the dignity which befitted officers of the great russian-american telegraph expedition! it was a pitiable failure. we could not succeed in looking like anything but wandering koraks in reduced circumstances. the ispravnik, however, did not seem to notice anything unusual in our appearance, but rattled away with an incessant fire of quick, nervous questions, such as "when did you leave petropavlovsk? are you just from america? i sent a cossack. did you meet him? how did you cross the tundras; with the koraks? _akh!_ those _proclatye_ koraks! any news from st. petersburg? you must come over and dine with me. how long will you stay in town? you can take a bath now before dinner. ay! _lòodee!_ [very loud and peremptory]. go and tell my ivan to heat up the bath quick! _akh chort yeekh! vazmee!_" and the restless little man finally stopped from sheer exhaustion, and began pacing nervously across the room, while the major related our adventures, gave him the latest news from russia, explained our plans, the object of our expedition, told him of the murder of lincoln, the end of the rebellion, the latest news from the french invasion of mexico, the gossip of the imperial court, and no end of other news which had been old with us for six months, but of which the poor exiled ispravnik had never heard a word. he had had no communication with russia in almost eleven months. after insisting again upon our coming over to his house immediately to dine, he bustled out of the room, and gave us an opportunity to wash and dress. two hours afterward, in all the splendour of blue coats, brass buttons, and shoulder-straps, with shaven faces, starched shirts, and polished leather boots, the "first siberian exploring party" marched over to the ispravnik's to dine. the russian peasants whom we met instinctively took off their frosty fur hoods and gazed wonderingly at us as we passed, as if we had mysteriously dropped down from some celestial sphere. no one would have recognised in us the dirty, smoky, ragged vagabonds who had entered the village two hours before. the grubs had developed into blue and golden butterflies! we found the ispravnik waiting for us in a pleasant, spacious room furnished with, all the luxuries of a civilised home. the walls were papered and ornamented with costly pictures and engravings, the windows were hung with curtains, the floor was covered with a soft, bright-coloured carpet, a large walnut writing-desk occupied one corner of the room, a rosewood melodeon the other, and in the centre stood the dining-table, covered with a fresh cloth, polished china, and glittering silver. we were fairly dazzled at the sight of so much unusual and unexpected magnificence. after the inevitable "fifteen drops" of brandy, and the lunch of smoked fish, rye bread, and caviar, which always precedes a russian dinner, we took seats at the table and spent an hour and a half in getting through the numerous courses of cabbage soup, salmon pie, venison cutlets, game, small meat pies, pudding, and pastry, which were successively set before us, and in discussing the news of all the world, from the log villages of kamchatka to the imperial palaces of moscow and st. petersburg. our hospitable host then ordered champagne, and over tall, slender glasses of cool beaded cliquot we meditated upon the vicissitudes of siberian life. yesterday we sat on the ground in a korak tent and ate reindeer meat out of a wooden trough with our fingers, and today we dined with the russian governor, in a luxurious house, upon venison cutlets, plum pudding, and champagne. with the exception of a noticeable but restrained inclination on the part of dodd and myself to curl up our legs and sit on the floor, there was nothing i believe in our behaviour to betray the barbarous freedom of the life which we had so recently lived, and the demoralising character of the influences to which we had been subjected. we handled our knives and forks, and leisurely sipped our champagne with a grace which would have excited the envy of lord chesterfield himself. but it was hard work. no sooner did we return to our quarters than we threw off our uniform coats, spread our bearskins on the floor and sat down upon them with crossed legs, to enjoy a comfortable smoke in the good old free-and-easy style. if our faces had only been just a little dirty we should have been perfectly happy! the next ten days of our life at gizhiga were passed in comparative idleness. we walked out a little when the weather was not too cold, received formal calls from the russian merchants of the place, visited the ispravnik and drank his delicious "flower tea" and smoked his cigarettes in the evening, and indemnified ourselves for three months of rough life by enjoying to the utmost such mild pleasures as the little village afforded. this pleasant, aimless existence, however, was soon terminated by an order from the major to prepare for the winter's campaign, and hold ourselves in readiness to start for the arctic circle or the west coast of the okhotsk sea at a moment's notice. he had determined to explore a route for our proposed line from bering strait to the amur river before spring should open, and there was no time to be lost. the information which we could gather at gizhiga with regard to the interior of the country was scanty, indefinite, and unsatisfactory. according to native accounts, there were only two settlements between the okhotsk sea and bering strait, and the nearest of these--penzhina--was four hundred versts distant. the intervening country consisted of great moss tundras impassable in summer, and perfectly destitute of timber; and that portion of it which lay north-east of the last settlement was utterly uninhabitable on account of the absence of wood. a russian officer by the name of phillippeus had attempted to explore it in the winter of , but had returned unsuccessful, in a starving and exhausted condition. in the whole distance of eight hundred versts between gizhiga and the mouth of the anadyr river there were said to be only four or five places where timber could be found large enough for telegraph poles, and over most of the route there was no wood except occasional patches of trailing-pine. a journey from gizhiga to the last settlement, anadyrsk, on the arctic circle, would occupy from twenty to thirty days, according to weather, and beyond that point there was no possibility of going under any circumstances. the region west of gizhiga, along the coast of the okhotsk sea, was reported to be better, but very rugged and mountainous, and heavily timbered with pine and larch. the village of okhotsk, eight hundred versts distant, could be reached on dog-sledges in about a month. this, in brief, was all the information we could get, and it did not inspire us with very much confidence in the ultimate success of our enterprise. i realised for the first time the magnitude of the task which the russian-american telegraph company had undertaken. we were "in for it," however, now, and our first duty was obviously to go through the country, ascertain its extent and nature, and find out what facilities, if any, it afforded for the construction of our line. [illustration: an old man of the settled koraks photograph in the american museum of natural history] the russian settlements of okhotsk and gizhiga divided the country between bering strait and the amur river into three nearly equal sections, of which two were mountainous and wooded, and one comparatively level and almost barren. the first of these sections, between the amur and okhotsk, had been assigned to mahood and bush, and we presumed that they were already engaged, in its exploration. the other two sections, comprising all the region between okhotsk and bering straits, were to be divided between the major, dodd, and myself. in view of the supposed desolation of the unexplored territory immediately west of bering strait, it was thought best to leave it unsurveyed until spring, and perhaps until another season. the promised co-operation of the anadyr river party had failed us, and without more men, the major did not think it expedient to undertake the exploration of a region which presented so many and so great obstacles to midwinter travel. the distance which remained to be traversed, therefore, was only about fourteen hundred versts from okhotsk to the russian outpost of anadyrsk, just south of the arctic circle. after some deliberation the major concluded to send dodd and me with a party of natives to anadyrsk, and to start himself on dog-sledges for the settlement of okhotsk, where he expected to meet mahood and bush. in this way it was hoped that we should be able in the course of five months to make a rough but tolerably accurate survey of nearly the whole route of the line. the provisions which we had brought from petropavlovsk had all been used up, with the exception of some tea, sugar, and a few cans of preserved beef; but we obtained at gizhiga two or three _puds_ (poods) [footnote: one _pud_ = lbs.] of black rye-bread, four or five frozen reindeer, some salt, and an abundant supply of _yukala_ or dried fish. these, with some tea and sugar, and a few cakes of frozen milk, made up our store of provisions. we provided ourselves also with six or eight _puds_ of circassian leaf tobacco to be used instead of money; divided equally our little store of beads, pipes, knives, and trading-goods, purchased new suits of furs throughout, and made every preparation for three or four months of camp life in an arctic climate. the russian governor ordered six of his cossacks to transport dodd and me on dog-sledges as far as the korak village of shestakóva, and sent word to penzhina by the returning anadyrsk people to have three or four men and dog-teams at the former place by december th, ready to carry us on to penzhina and anadyrsk. we engaged an old and experienced cossack named gregorie zinovief as guide and chukchi interpreter, hired a young russian called yagór as cook and aid-de-camp (in the literal sense), packed our stores on our sledges and secured them with lashings of sealskin thongs, and by december th were ready to take the field. that evening the major delivered to us our instructions. they were simply to follow the regular sledge road to anadyrsk via shestakóva and penzhina, to ascertain what facilities it offered in the way of timber and soil for the construction of a telegraph line, to set the natives at work cutting poles at penzhina and anadyrsk, and to make side explorations where possible in search of timbered rivers connecting penzhinsk gulf with bering sea. late in the spring we were to return to gizhiga with all the information which we could gather relative to the country between that point and the arctic circle. the major himself would remain at gizhiga until about december th, and then leave on dog-sledges with viushin and a small party of cossacks for the settlement of okhotsk. if he made a junction with mahood and bush, at that place, he would return at once, and meet us again at gizhiga by the first of april, . chapter xxiii dog-sledge travel--arctic mirages--camp at night--a howling chorus--northern lights the morning of december th dawned clear, cold, and still, with a temperature of thirty-one degrees below zero; but as the sun did not rise until half-past ten, it was nearly noon before we could get our drivers together, and our dogs harnessed for a start. our little party of ten men presented quite a novel and picturesque appearance in their gaily embroidered fur coats, red sashes, and yellow foxskin hoods, as they assembled in a body before our house to bid good-bye to the ispravnik and the major. eight heavily loaded sledges were ranged in a line in front of the door, and almost a hundred dogs were springing frantically against their harnesses, and raising deafening howls of impatience, as we came out of the house into the still, frosty atmosphere. we bade everybody good-bye, received a hearty "god bless you, boys!" from the major, and were off in a cloud of flying snow, which stung our faces like burning sparks of fire. old paderin, the chief of the gizhiga cossacks, with white frosty hair and beard, stood out in front of his little red log house as we passed, and waved us a last good-bye with his fur hood as we swept out upon the great level steppe behind the town. it was just midday; but the sun, although at its greatest altitude, glowed like a red ball of fire low down in the southern horizon, and a peculiar gloomy twilight hung over the white wintry landscape. i could not overcome the impression that the sun was just rising and that it would soon be broad day. a white ptarmigan now and then flew up with a loud whir before us, uttered a harsh "querk, querk, querk" of affright, and sailing a few rods away, settled upon the snow and suddenly became invisible. a few magpies sat motionless in the thickets of trailing-pine as we passed, but their feathers were ruffled up around their heads, and they seemed chilled and stupefied by the intense cold. the distant blue belt of timber along the gizhiga river wavered and trembled in its outlines as if seen through currents of heated air, and the white ghost-like mountains thirty miles away to the southward were thrown up and distorted by refraction into a thousand airy, fantastic shapes which melted imperceptibly one into another, like a series of dissolving views. every feature of the scenery was strange, weird, arctic. the red sun rolled slowly along the southern horizon, until it seemed to rest on a white snowy peak far away in the south-west, and then, while we were yet expecting day, it suddenly disappeared and the gloomy twilight deepened gradually into night. only three hours had elapsed since sunrise, and yet stars of the first magnitude could already be plainly distinguished. [illustration: yurt and dog-team of the settled koraks. from a painting by george a. frost] we stopped for the night at the house of a russian peasant who lived on the bank of the gizhiga river, about fifteen versts east of the settlement. while we were drinking tea a special messenger arrived from the village, bringing two frozen blueberry pies as a parting token of regard from the major, and a last souvenir of civilisation. pretending to fear that something might happen to these delicacies if we should attempt to carry them with us, dodd, as a precautionary measure, ate one of them up to the last blueberry; and rather than have him sacrifice himself to a mistaken idea of duty by trying to eat the other, i attended to its preservation myself and put it for ever beyond the reach of accidental contingencies. on the following day we reached the little log _yurt_ on the malmofka, where we had spent one night on our way to gizhiga; and as the cold was still intense we were glad to avail ourselves again of its shelter, and huddle around the warm fire which yagór kindled on a sort of clay altar in the middle of the room. there was not space enough on the rough plank floor to accommodate all our party, and our men built a huge fire of tamarack logs outside, hung over their teakettles, thawed out their frosty beards, ate dry fish, sang jolly russian songs, and made themselves so boisterously happy, that we were tempted to give up the luxury of a roof for the sake of sharing in their out-door amusements and merriment. our thermometers, however, marked ° below zero, and we did not venture out of doors except when an unusually loud burst of laughter announced some stupendous siberian joke which we thought would be worth hearing. the atmosphere outside seemed to be just cool enough to exert an inspiriting influence upon our lively cossacks, but it was altogether too bracing for unaccustomed american constitutions. with a good fire, however, and plenty of hot tea, we succeeded in making ourselves very comfortable inside the _yurt_, and passed away the long evening in smoking circassian tobacco and pine bark, singing american songs, telling stories, and quizzing our good-natured but unsophisticated cossack meranef. it was quite late when we finally crawled into our fur bags to sleep; but long afterward we could hear the songs, jokes, and laughter of our drivers as they sat around the camp-fire, and told funny stories of siberian travel. we were up on the following morning long before daylight; and, after a hasty breakfast of black-bread, dried fish, and tea, we harnessed our dogs, wet down our sledge-runners with water from the teakettle to cover them with a coating of ice, packed up our camp equipage, and, leaving the shelter of the tamarack forest around the _yurt_, drove out upon the great snowy sahara which lies between the malmofka river and penzhinsk gulf. it was a land of desolation. a great level steppe, as boundless to the weary eye as the ocean itself, stretched away in every direction to the far horizon, without a single tree or bush to relieve its white, snowy surface. nowhere did we see any sign of animal or vegetable life, any suggestion of summer or flowers or warm sunshine, to brighten the dreary waste of storm-drifted snow. white, cold, and silent, it lay before us like a vast frozen ocean, lighted up faintly by the slender crescent of the waning moon in the east, and the weird blue streamers of the aurora, which went racing swiftly back and forth along the northern horizon. even when the sun rose, huge and fiery, in a haze of frozen moisture at the south, it did not seem to infuse any warmth or life into the bleak wintry landscape. it only drowned, in a dull red glare, the blue, tremulous streamers of the aurora and the white radiance of the moon and stars, tinged the snow with a faint colour like a stormy sunset, and lighted up a splendid mirage in the north-west which startled us with its solemn mockery of familiar scenes. the wand of the northern enchanter touched the barren snowy steppe, and it suddenly became a blue tropical lake, upon whose distant shore rose the walls, domes, and slender minarets of a vast oriental city. masses of luxuriant foliage seemed to overhang the clear blue water, and to be reflected in its depths, while the white walls above just caught the first flush of the rising sun. never was the illusion of summer in winter, of life in death, more palpable or more perfect. one almost instinctively glanced around to assure himself, by the sight of familiar objects, that it was not a dream; but as his eyes turned again to the north-west across the dim blue lake, the vast tremulous outlines of the mirage still confronted him in their unearthly beauty, and the "cloud-capped towers and gorgeous palaces" seemed, by their mysterious solemnity, to rebuke the doubt which would ascribe them to a dream. the bright apparition faded, glowed, and faded again into indistinctness, and from its ruins rose two colossal pillars sculptured from rose quartz, which gradually united their capitals and formed a titanic arch like the grand portal of heaven. this, in turn, melted into an extensive fortress, with, massive bastions and buttresses, flanking towers and deep embrasures, and salient and re-entering angles whose shadows and perspective were as natural as reality itself. nor was it only at a distance that these deceptive mirages seemed to be formed. a crow, standing upon the snow at a distance of perhaps two hundred yards, was exaggerated and distorted beyond recognition; and once, having lingered a little behind the rest of the party, i was startled at seeing a long line of shadowy dog-sledges moving swiftly through the air a short distance ahead, at a height of eight or ten feet from the ground. the mock sledges were inverted in position, and the mock dogs trotted along with their feet in the air; but their outlines were almost as clear as those of the real sledges and real dogs underneath. this curious phenomenon lasted only a moment, but it was succeeded by others equally strange, until at last we lost faith in our eyesight entirely, and would not believe in the existence of anything unless we could touch it with our hands. every bare hillock or dark object on the snow was a nucleus around which were formed the most deceptive images, and two or three times we started out with our rifles in pursuit of wolves or black foxes, which proved, upon closer inspection, to be nothing but crows. i had never before known the light and atmosphere to be so favourable to refraction, and had never been so deceived in the size, shape, and distance of objects on the snow. [illustration: a woman feeding a dog-team in gizhiga from a painting by george a. frost] the thermometer at noon marked - °, and at sunset it was - °, and sinking. we had seen no wood since leaving the _yurt_ on the malmofka river, and, not daring to camp without a fire, we travelled for five hours after dark, guided only by the stars and a bluish aurora which was playing away in the north. under the influence of the intense cold, frost formed in great quantities upon everything which was touched by our breaths. beards became stiff tangled masses of frozen iron wire, eyelids grew heavy with long white rims of frost, and froze together when we winked, and our dogs, enveloped in dense clouds of steam, looked like snowy polar wolves. only by running constantly beside our sledges could we keep any sensation of life in our feet. about eight o'clock a few scattered trees loomed up darkly against the eastern sky, and a joyful shout from our leading drivers announced the discovery of wood. we had reached a small stream called the usinova (oo-seen'-ova), seventy-five versts east of gizhiga, in the very middle of the great steppe. it was like coming to an island after having been long at sea. our dogs stopped and curled themselves up into little round balls on the snow, as if conscious that the long day's journey was ended, while our drivers proceeded to make rapidly and systematically a siberian half-faced camp. three sledges were drawn up together, so as to make a little semi-enclosure about ten feet square; the snow was all shovelled out of the interior, and banked up around the three closed sides, like a snow fort, and a huge fire of trailing-pine branches was built at the open end. the bottom of this little snow-cellar was then strewn to a depth of three or four inches with twigs of willow and alder, shaggy bearskins were spread down to make a warm, soft carpet, and our fur sleeping-bags arranged for the night. upon a small table extemporised out of a candle-box, which stood in the centre, yagór soon placed two cups of steaming hot tea and a couple of dried fish. then stretching ourselves out in luxurious style upon our bearskin carpet, with our feet to the fire and our backs against pillows, we smoked, drank tea, and told stories in perfect comfort. after supper the drivers piled dry branches of trailing-pine upon the fire until it sent up a column of hot ruddy flame ten feet in height, and then gathering in a picturesque group around the blaze, they sang for hours the wild melancholy songs of the kamchadals, and told never-ending stories of hardship and adventure on the great steppes and along the coast of the "icy sea." at last the great constellation of orion marked bedtime. amid a tumult of snarling and fighting the dogs were fed their daily allowance of one dried fish each, fur stockings, moist with perspiration, were taken off and dried by the fire, and putting on our heaviest fur _kukhlankas_ we crawled feet first into our bearskin bags, pulled them up over our heads, and slept. a camp in the middle of a clear, dark winter's night presents a strange, wild appearance. i was awakened, soon after midnight, by cold feet, and, raising myself upon one elbow, i pushed my head out of my frosty fur bag to see by the stars what time it was. the fire had died away to a red heap of smouldering embers. there was just light enough to distinguish the dark outlines of the loaded sledges, the fur-clad forms of our men, lying here and there in groups about the fire, and the frosty dogs, curled up into a hundred little hairy balls upon the snow. away beyond the limits of the camp stretched the desolate steppe in a series of long snowy undulations, which blended gradually into one great white frozen ocean, and were lost in the distance and darkness of night. high overhead, in a sky which was almost black, sparkled the bright constellations of orion and the pleiades--the celestial clocks which marked the long, weary hours between sunrise and sunset. the blue mysterious streamers of the aurora trembled in the north, now shooting up in clear bright lines to the zenith, then waving back and forth in great majestic curves over the silent camp, as if warning back the adventurous traveller from the unknown regions around the pole. the silence was profound, oppressive. nothing but the pulsating of the blood in my ears, and the heavy breathing of the sleeping men at my feet, broke the universal lull. suddenly there rose upon the still night air a long, faint, wailing cry like that of a human being in the last extremity of suffering. gradually it swelled and deepened until it seemed to fill the whole atmosphere with its volume of mournful sound, dying away at last into a low, despairing moan. it was the signal-howl of a siberian dog; but so wild and unearthly did it seem in the stillness of the arctic midnight, that it sent the startled blood bounding through my veins to my very finger-ends. in a moment the mournful cry was taken up by another dog, upon a higher key--two or three more joined in, then ten, twenty, forty, sixty, eighty, until the whole pack of a hundred dogs howled one infernal chorus together, making the air fairly tremble with sound, as if from the heavy bass of a great organ. for fully a minute heaven and earth seemed to be filled with yelling, shrieking fiends. then one by one they began gradually to drop off, the unearthly tumult grew momentarily fainter and fainter, until at last it ended as it began, in one long, inexpressibly melancholy wail, and all was still. one or two of our men moved restlessly in their sleep, as if the mournful howls had blended unpleasantly with their dreams; but no one awoke, and a death-like silence again pervaded heaven and earth. suddenly the aurora shone out with increased brilliancy, and its waving swords swept back and forth in great semicircles across the dark starry sky, and lighted up the snowy steppe with transitory flashes of coloured radiance, as if the gates of heaven were opening and closing upon the dazzling brightness of the celestial city. presently it faded away again to a faint diffused glow in the north, and one pale-green streamer, slender and bright as the spear of ithuriel, pushed slowly up toward the zenith until it touched with its translucent point the jewelled belt of orion; then it, too, faded and vanished, and nothing but a bank of pale white mist on the northern horizon showed the location of the celestial armory whence the arctic spirits drew the gleaming swords and lances which they shook and brandished nightly over the lonely siberian steppes. crawling back into my bag as the aurora disappeared, i fell asleep, and did not wake until near morning. with the first streak of dawn the camp began to show signs of animation. the dogs crawled out of the deep holes which their warm bodies had melted in the snow; the cossacks poked their heads out of their frosty fur coats, and whipped off with little sticks the mass of frost which had accumulated around their breathing-holes; a fire was built, tea boiled, and we crawled out of our sleeping-bags to shiver around the fire and eat a hasty breakfast of rye-bread, dried fish, and tea. in twenty minutes the dogs were harnessed, sledges packed, and runners covered with ice, and one after another we drove away at a brisk trot from the smoking fire, and began another day's journey across the barren steppe. in this monotonous routine of riding, camping, and sleeping on the snow, day after day slowly passed until, on december th, we arrived at the settled korak village of shestakóva, near the head of penzhinsk gulf. from this point our gizhiga cossacks were to return, and here we were to wait until the expected sledges from penzhina should arrive. we lowered our bedding, pillows, camp-equipage, and provisions down through the chimney hole of the largest _yurt_ in the small village, arranged them as tastefully as possible on the wide wooden platform which extended out from the wall on one side, and made ourselves as comfortable as darkness, smoke, cold, and dirt would permit. [illustration: korak adzes] chapter xxiv dismal shelter--arrival of a cossack courier americans on the anadyr--arctic firewood a siberian blizzard lost on the steppe our short stay at shestakóva, while waiting for the penzhina sledges, was dismal and lonesome beyond expression. it began to storm furiously about noon on the th, and the violent wind swept up such tremendous clouds of snow from the great steppe north of the village, that the whole earth was darkened as if by an eclipse, and the atmosphere, to a height of a hundred feet from the ground, was literally packed with a driving mist of white snowflakes. i ventured to the top of the chimney hole once, but i was nearly blown over the edge of the _yurt_, and, blinded and choked by snow, i hastily retreated down the chimney, congratulating myself that i was not obliged to lie out all day on some desolate plain, exposed to the fury of such a storm. to keep out the snow, we were obliged to extinguish the fire and shut up the chimney hole with a sort of wooden trap-door, so that we were left to total darkness and a freezing atmosphere. we lighted candles and stuck them against the black smoky logs above our heads with melted grease, so that we could see to read; but the cold was so intense that we were finally compelled to give up the idea of literary amusement, and putting on fur coats and hoods, we crawled into our bags to try to sleep away the day. shut up in a dark half-underground dungeon, with a temperature ten degrees below the freezing-point, we had no other resource. it is a mystery to me how human beings with any feeling at all can be satisfied to live in such abominable, detestable houses as those of the settled koraks. they have not one solitary redeeming feature. they are entered through the chimney, lighted by the chimney, and ventilated by the chimney; the sunshine falls into them only once a year--in june; they are cold in winter, close and uncomfortable in summer, and smoky all the time. they are pervaded by a smell of rancid oil and decaying fish; their logs are black as jet and greasy with smoke, and their earthen floors are an indescribable mixture of reindeer hairs and filth dried and trodden hard. they have no furniture except wooden bowls of seal oil, in which burn fragments of moss, and black wooden troughs which are alternately used as dishes and as seats. sad is the lot of children born in such a place. until they are old enough to climb up the chimney pole they never see the outside world. the weather on the day after our arrival at shestakóva was much better, and our cossack meranef, who was on his way back to tigil, bade us good-bye, and started with two or three natives for kamenoi. dodd and i managed to pass away the day by drinking tea eight or ten times simply as an amusement, reading an odd volume of cooper's novels which we had picked up at gizhiga, and strolling along the high bluffs over the gulf with our rifles in search of foxes. soon after dark, just as we were drinking tea in final desperation for the seventh time, our dogs who were tied around the _yurt_ set up a general howl, and yagór came sliding down the chimney in the most reckless and disorderly manner, with the news that a russian cossack had just arrived from petropavlovsk, bringing letters for the major. dodd sprang up in great excitement, kicked over the teakettle, dropped his cup and saucer, and made a frantic rush for the chimney pole; but before he could reach it we saw somebody's legs coming down into the _yurt_, and in a moment a tall man in a spotted reindeerskin coat appeared, crossed himself carefully two or three times, as if in gratitude for his safe arrival, and then turned to us with the russian salutation, "zdrastvuitia."--"at kooda?"--"where from?" demanded dodd, quickly. "from petropavlovsk with letters for the _maiur_," (mai-oor'), was the reply; "three telegraph ships have been there, and i am sent with important letters from the american _nachalnik_ [footnote: commander.]; i have been thirty-nine days and nights on the road from petropavlovsk." this was important news. colonel bulkley had evidently touched at the southern end of kamchatka on his return from bering sea, and the letters brought by the courier would undoubtedly explain why he had not landed the party at the mouth of the anadyr river, as he had intended. i felt a strong temptation to open the letters; but not thinking that they could have any bearing upon my movements, i finally concluded to send them on without a moment's delay to gizhiga, in the faint hope that the major had not yet left there for okhotsk. in twenty minutes the cossack was gone, and we were left to form all sorts of wild conjectures as to the contents of the letters, and the movements of the parties which colonel bulkley had carried up to bering strait. i regretted a hundred times that i had not opened the letters, and found out to a certainty that the anadyr river party had not been landed. but it was too late now, and we could only hope that the courier would overtake the major before he had started from gizhiga, and that the latter would send somebody to us at anadyrsk with the news. [illustration: interior of a yurt of the settled koraks] there were no signs yet of the penzhina sledges, and we spent another night and another long dreary day in the smoky _yurt_ at shestakóva, waiting for transportation. late in the evening of december d, yagór, who acted in the capacity of sentinel, came down the chimney with another sensation. he had heard the howling of dogs in the direction of penzhina. we went up on the roof of the _yurt_ and listened for several minutes, but hearing nothing but the wind, we concluded that yagór had either been mistaken, or that a pack of wolves had howled in the valley east of the settlement. yagór however was right; he had heard dogs on the penzhina road, and in less than ten minutes the long-expected sledges drew up, amid general shouting and barking, before our _yurt_. in the course of conversation with the new arrivals, i thought i understood one of the penzhina men to say something about a party who had mysteriously appeared near the mouth of the anadyr river, and who were building a house there as if with the intention of spending the winter. i did not yet understand russian very well, but i guessed at once that the long-talked-of anadyr river party had been landed, and springing up in considerable excitement, i called dodd to interpret. it seemed from all the information which the penzhina men could give us that a small party of americans had mysteriously appeared, early in the winter, near the mouth of the anadyr, and had commenced to build a house of driftwood and a few boards which had been landed from the vessel in which they came. what their intentions were, who they were, or how long they intended to stay, no one knew, as the report came through bands of wandering chukchis, who had never seen the americans themselves, but who had heard of them from others. the news had been passed along from one encampment of chukchis to another until it had finally reached penzhina, and had thus been brought on to us at shestakóva, more than five hundred miles from the place where the americans were said to be. we could hardly believe that colonel bulkley had landed an exploring party in the desolate region south of bering strait, at the very beginning of an arctic winter; but what could americans be doing there, if they did not belong to our expedition? it was not a place which civilised men would be likely to select for a winter residence, unless they had in view some very important object. the nearest settlement--anadyrsk--was almost two hundred and fifty miles distant; the country along the lower anadyr was said to be wholly destitute of wood, and inhabited only by roving bands of chukchis, and a party landed there without an interpreter would have no means of communicating even with these wild, lawless natives, or of obtaining any means whatever of transportation. if there were any americans there, they were certainly in a very unpleasant situation. dodd and i talked the matter over until nearly midnight, and finally concluded that upon our arrival at anadyrsk we would make up a strong party of experienced natives, take thirty days' provisions, and push through to the pacific coast on dog-sledges in search of these mysterious americans. it would be an adventure just novel and hazardous enough to be interesting, and if we succeeded in reaching the mouth of the anadyr in winter, we should do something never before accomplished and never but once attempted. with this conclusion we crawled into our fur bags and dreamed that we were starting for the open polar sea in search of sir john franklin. on the morning of december d, as soon as it was light enough to see, we loaded our tobacco, provisions, tea, sugar, and trading-goods upon the penzhina sledges, and started up the shallow bushy valley of the shestakóva river toward a mountainous ridge, a spur of the great stanavoi range, in which the stream had its source. we crossed the mountain early in the afternoon, at a height of about a thousand feet, and slid swiftly down its northern slope into a narrow valley, which opened upon the great steppes which bordered the river aklán. the weather was clear and not very cold, but the snow in the valley was deep and soft, and our progress was provokingly slow. we had hoped to reach the aklán by night, but the day was so short and the road so bad that we travelled five hours after dark, and then had to stop ten versts south of the river. we were rewarded, however, by seeing two very fine mock moons, and by finding a magnificent patch of trailing-pine, which furnished us with dry wood enough for a glorious camp-fire. the curious tree or bush known to the russians as _kedrovnik_ (keh-drove'-nik), and rendered in the english translation of wrangell's travels as "trailing cedar," is one of the most singular productions of siberia. i hardly know whether to call it a tree, a bush, or a vine, for it partakes more or less of the characteristics of all three, and yet does not look much like any of them. it resembles as much as anything a dwarf pine tree, with a remarkably gnarled, crooked, and contorted trunk, growing horizontally like a neglected vine along the ground, and sending up perpendicular branches through the snow. it has the needles and cones of the common white pine, but it never stands erect like a tree, and grows in great patches from a few yards to several acres in extent. a man might walk over a dense growth of it in winter and yet see nothing but a few bunches of sharp green needles, sticking up here and there through the snow. it is found on the most desolate steppes and upon the rockiest mountain-sides from the okhotsk sea to the arctic ocean, and seems to grow most luxuriantly where the soil is most barren and the storms most severe. on great ocean-like plains, destitute of all other vegetation, this trailing-pine lurks beneath the snow, and covers the ground in places with a perfect network of gnarled, twisted, and interlocking trunks. for some reason it always seems to die when it has attained a certain age, and wherever you find its green spiny foliage you will also find dry white trunks as inflammable as tinder. it furnishes almost the only firewood of the wandering koraks and chukchis, and without it many parts of north-eastern siberia would be absolutely uninhabitable by man. scores of nights during our explorations in siberia, we should have been compelled to camp without fire, water, or warm food, had not nature provided everywhere an abundance of trailing-pine, and stored it away under the snow for the use of travellers. [illustration: dog-teams descending a steep mountain slope] we left our camp in the valley early on the following morning, pushed on across the large and heavily timbered river called the aklán, and entered upon the great steppe which stretches away from its northern bank toward anadyrsk. for two days we travelled over this barren snowy plain, seeing no vegetation but stunted trees and patches of trailing-pine along the banks of occasional streams, and no life except one or two solitary ravens and a red fox. the bleak and dreary landscape could have been described in two words--snow and sky. i had come to siberia with full confidence in the ultimate success of the russian-american telegraph line, but as i penetrated deeper and deeper into the country and saw its utter desolation i grew less and less sanguine. since leaving gizhiga we had travelled nearly three hundred versts, had found only four places where we could obtain poles, and had passed only three settlements. unless we could find a better route than the one over which we had been, i feared that the siberian telegraph line would be a failure. up to this time we had been favoured with unusually fine weather; but it was a season of the year when storms were of frequent occurrence, and i was not surprised to be awakened christmas night by the roaring of the wind and the hissing sound of the snow as it swept through our unprotected camp and buried up our dogs and sledges. we were having a slight touch of a siberian _purga_ (poor'-gah = blizzard). a fringe of trees along the little stream on which we were camped sheltered us in a measure from the storm, but out on the steppe it was evidently blowing a gale. we rose as usual at daylight and made an attempt to travel; but no sooner did we leave the cover of the trees than our dogs became almost unmanageable, and, blinded and half suffocated with flying snow, we were driven back again into the timber. it was impossible to see thirty feet, and the wind blew with such fury that our dogs would not face it. we massed our sledges together as a sort of breastwork against the drifting snow, spread our fur bags down behind them, crawled in, covered up our heads with deerskins and blankets, and prepared for a long dismal siege. there is nothing so thoroughly, hopelessly dreary and uncomfortable, as camping out upon a siberian steppe in a storm. the wind blows with such violence that a tent cannot possibly be made to stand; the fire is half extinguished by drifting snow, and fills the eyes with smoke and cinders when it burns at all; conversation is impossible on account of the roaring of the wind and the beating of the snow in one's face; bearskins, pillows, and furs become stiff and icy with half-melted sleet, sledges are buried up, and there remains nothing for the unhappy traveller to do but crawl into his sleeping-bag, cover up his head, and shiver away the long, dismal hours. we lay out on the snow in this storm for two days, spending nearly all the time in our fur bags and suffering severely from the cold during the long, dark nights. on the th, about four o'clock in the morning, the storm began to abate, and by six we had dug out our sledges and were under way. there was a low spur of the stanavoi mountains about ten versts north of our camp, and our men said that if we could get across that before daylight we should probably have no more bad weather until we reached penzhina. our dog-food was entirely exhausted, and we must make the settlement within the next twenty-four hours if possible. the snow had been blown hard by the wind, our dogs were fresh from two days' rest, and before daylight we had crossed the ridge and stopped in a little valley on the northern slope of the mountain to drink tea. when compelled to travel all night, the siberian natives always make a practice of stopping just before sunrise and allowing their dogs to get to sleep. they argue that if a dog goes to sleep while it is yet dark, and wakes up in an hour and finds the sun shining, he will suppose that he has had a full night's rest and will travel all day without thinking of being tired. an hour's stop, however, at any other time will be of no use whatever. as soon as we thought we had deluded our dogs into the belief that they had slept all night, we roused them up and started down the valley toward a tributary of the penzhina river, known as the uskanova (oo-skan'-o-vah). the weather was clear and not very cold, and we all enjoyed the pleasant change and the brief two hours of sunshine which were vouchsafed us before the sun sank behind the white peaks of stanavoi. just at dark we crossed the river kondra, fifteen miles from penzhina, and in two hours more we were hopelessly lost on another great level steppe, and broken up into two or three separate and bewildered parties. i had fallen asleep soon after passing the kondra, and had not the slightest idea how we were progressing or whither we were going, until dodd shook me by the shoulder and said, "kennan, we're lost." rather a startling announcement to wake a man with, but as dodd did not seem to be much concerned about it, i assured him that i didn't care, and lying back on my pillow went to sleep again, fully satisfied that my driver would find penzhina sometime in the course of the night. guided by the stars, dodd, gregorie, and i, with one other sledge which remained with us, turned away to the eastward, and about nine o'clock came upon the penzhina river somewhere below the settlement. we started up it on the ice, and had gone but a short distance when we saw two or three sledges coming down the river. surprised to find men travelling away from the village at that hour of the night, we hailed them with a "halloo!" "halloo!" "vwe kooda yáydetia?"--"where are you going?" "we're going to penzhina; who are you?" "we're gizhigintsi, also going to penzhina; what you coming down the river for?" "we're trying to find the village, devil take it; we've been travelling all night and can't find anything!" upon this dodd burst into a loud laugh, and as the mysterious sledges drew nearer we recognised in their drivers three of our own men who had separated from us soon after dark, and who were now trying to reach penzhina by going down the river toward the okhotsk sea. we could hardly convince them that the village did not lie in that direction. they finally turned back with us, however, and some time after midnight we drove into penzhina, roused the sleeping inhabitants with a series of unearthly yells, startled fifty or sixty dogs into a howling protest against such untimely disturbance, and threw the whole settlement into a general uproar. in ten minutes we were seated on bearskins before a warm fire in a cozy russian house, drinking cup after cup of fragrant tea, and talking over our night's adventures. [illustration: ladle made of caribou antler] [illustration: woman's knife for cutting meat] chapter xxv penzhina--posts for elevated road--fifty-three below zero--talked out--astronomical lectures--eating planets--the house of a priest the village of penzhina is a little collection of log houses, flat-topped _yurts_, and four-legged _balagáns,_ situated on the north bank of the river which bears its name, about half-way between the okhotsk sea and anadyrsk. it is inhabited principally by _meshcháns_ (mesh-chans'), or free russian peasants, but contains also in its scanty population a few "chuances" or aboriginal siberian natives, who were subjugated by the russian cossacks in the eighteenth century, and who now speak the language of their conquerors and gain a scanty subsistence by fishing and trading in furs. the town is sheltered on the north by a very steep bluff about a hundred feet in height, which, like all hills in the vicinity of russian settlements, bears upon its summit a greek cross with three arms. the river opposite the settlement is about a hundred yards in width, and its banks are heavily timbered with birch, larch, poplar, willow, and aspen. owing to warm springs in its bed, it never entirely freezes over at this point, and in a temperature of ° below zero gives off dense clouds of steam which hide the village from sight as effectually as a london fog. we remained at penzhina three days, gathering information about the surrounding country and engaging men to cut poles for our line. we found the people to be cheerful, good-natured, and hospitable, and disposed to do all in their power to further our plans; but of course they had never heard of a telegraph, and could not imagine what we were going to do with the poles which we were so anxious to have cut. some said that we intended to build a wooden road from gizhiga to anadyrsk, so that it would be possible to travel back and forth in the summer; others contended with some show of probability that two men, even if they _were_ americans, could not construct a wooden road, six hundred versts long, and that our real object was to build some sort of a huge house. when questioned as to the use of this immense edifice, however, the advocates of the house theory were covered with confusion, and could only insist upon the physical impossibility of a road, and call upon their opponents to accept the house or suggest something better. we succeeded in engaging sixteen able-bodied men, however, to cut poles for a reasonable compensation, gave them the required dimensions--twenty-one feet long and five inches in diameter at the top--and instructed them to cut as many as possible, and pile them up along the banks of the river. i may as well mention here, that when i returned from anadyrsk in march i went to look at the poles, in number, which the penzhina men had cut. i found, to my great astonishment, that there was hardly one of them less than twelve inches in diameter at the top, and that the majority were so heavy and unwieldy that a dozen men could not move them. i told the natives that they would not do, and asked why they had not cut smaller ones, as i had directed. they replied that they supposed i wanted to build some kind of a road on the tops of these poles, and they knew that poles only five inches in diameter would not be strong enough to hold it up! they had accordingly cut trees large enough to be used as pillars for a state-house. they still lie there, buried in arctic snows; and i have no doubt that many years hence, when macaulay's new zealander shall have finished sketching the ruins of st. paul's and shall have gone to siberia to complete his education, he will be entertained by his native drivers with stories of how two crazy americans once tried to build an elevated railroad from the okhotsk sea to bering strait. i only hope that the new zealander will write a book, and confer upon the two crazy americans the honour and the immortality which their labours deserved, but which the elevated railroad failed to give. we left penzhina on the st day of december for anadyrsk. after travelling all day, as usual, over a barren steppe, we camped for the night near the foot of a white isolated peak called nalgim, in a temperature of ° below zero. it was new year's eve; and as i sat by the fire in my heaviest furs, covered from head to foot with frost, i thought of the great change which a single year had made in my surroundings. new year's eve, , i had spent in central america, riding on a mule from lake nicaragua to the pacific coast, through a magnificent tropical forest. new year's eve, , found me squatting on a great snowy plain near the arctic circle, trying, in a temperature of ° below zero, to eat up my soup before it froze solidly to the plate. hardly could there have been a greater contrast. our camp near mount nalgim abounded in trailing-pine and we made a fire which sent up a column of ruddy flame ten feet in height; but it did not seem to have much influence upon the atmosphere. our eyelids froze together while we were drinking tea; our soup, taken hot from the kettle, froze in our tin plates before we could possibly finish eating it; and the breasts of our fur coats were covered with a white rime, while we sat only a few feet from a huge blazing camp-fire. tin plates, knives, and spoons burned the bare hand when touched, almost exactly as if they were red-hot; and water, spilled on a little piece of board only fourteen inches from the fire, froze solid in less than two minutes. the warm bodies of our dogs gave off clouds of steam; and even the bare hand, wiped perfectly dry, exhaled a thin vapour when exposed to the air. we had never before experienced so low a temperature; but we suffered very little except from cold feet, and dodd declared that with a good fire and plenty of fat food he would not be afraid to try fifteen degrees lower. the greatest cause of suffering in siberia is wind. twenty degrees below zero, with a fresh breeze, is very trying; and a gale of wind, with a temperature of - °, is almost unendurable. intense cold of itself is not particularly dangerous to life. a man who will eat a hearty supper of dried fish and tallow, dress himself in a siberian costume, and crawl into a heavy fur bag, may spend a night out-doors in a temperature of - ° without any serious danger; but if he is tired out, with long travel, if his clothes are wet with perspiration, or if he has not enough to eat, he may freeze to death with the thermometer at zero. the most important rules for an arctic traveller are: to eat plenty of fat food; to avoid over-exertion and night journeys; and never to get into a profuse perspiration by violent exercise for the sake of temporary warmth. i have seen wandering chukchis in a region destitute of wood and in a dangerous temperature, travel all day with aching feet rather than exhaust their strength by trying to warm them in running. they would never exercise except when it was absolutely necessary to keep from freezing. as a natural consequence, they were almost as fresh at night as they had been in the morning, and if they failed to find wood for a fire, or were compelled by some unforeseen exigency to travel throughout the twenty-four hours, they had the strength to do it. an inexperienced traveller under the same circumstances, would have exhausted all his energy during the day in trying to keep perfectly warm; and at night, wet with perspiration and tired out by too much violent exercise, he would almost inevitably have frozen to death. for two hours after supper, dodd and i sat by the fire, trying experiments to see what the intense cold would do. about eight o'clock the heavens became suddenly overcast with clouds, and in less than an hour the thermometer had risen nearly thirty degrees. congratulating ourselves upon this fortunate change in the weather, we crawled into our fur bags and slept away as much as we could of the long arctic night. our life for the next few days was the same monotonous routine of riding, camping, and sleeping with which we were already so familiar. the country over which we passed was generally bleak, desolate, and uninteresting; the weather was cold enough for discomfort, but not enough so to make outdoor life dangerous or exciting; the days were only two or three hours in length and the nights were interminable. going into camp early in the afternoon, when the sun disappeared, we had before us about twenty hours of darkness, in which we must either amuse ourselves in some way, or sleep. twenty hours' sleep for any one but a rip van winkle was rather an over-dose, and during at least half that time we could think of nothing better to do than sit around the camp-fire on bearskins and talk. ever since leaving petropavlovsk, talking had been our chief amusement; and although it had answered very well for the first hundred nights or so, it was now becoming a little monotonous and our mental resources were running decidedly low. we could not think of a single subject about which we knew anything that had not been talked over, criticised, and discussed to the very bone. we had related to each other in detail the whole history of our respective lives, together with the lives of all our ancestors as far back as we knew anything about them. we had discussed in full every known problem of love, war, science, politics, and religion, including a great many that we knew nothing whatever about, and had finally been reduced to such topics of conversation as the size of the army with which xerxes invaded greece and the probable extent of the noachian deluge. as there was no possibility of arriving at any mutually satisfactory conclusion with regard to either of these important questions, the debate had been prolonged for twenty or thirty consecutive nights and the questions finally left open for future consideration. in cases of desperate emergency, when all other topics of conversation failed, we knew that we could return to xerxes and the flood; but these subjects had been dropped by the tacit consent of both parties soon after leaving gizhiga, and were held in reserve as a "dernier ressort" for stormy nights in korak _yurts_. one night as we were encamped on a great steppe north of shestakóva, the happy idea occurred to me that i might pass away these long evenings out of doors, by delivering a course of lectures to my native drivers upon the wonders of modern science. it would amuse me and at the same time instruct them--or at least i hoped it would, and i proceeded at once to put the plan into execution. i turned my attention first to astronomy. camping out on the open steppe, with no roof above except the starry sky, i had every facility for the illustration of my subject, and night after night as we travelled northward i might have been seen in the centre of a group of eager natives, whose swarthy faces were lighted up by the red blaze of the camp-fire, and who listened with childish curiosity while i explained the phenomena of the seasons, the revolution of the planets around the sun, and the causes of a lunar eclipse. i was compelled, like john phoenix, to manufacture my own orrery, and i did it with a lump of frozen, tallow to represent the earth, a chunk of black bread for the moon, and small pieces of dried meat for the lesser planets. the resemblance to the heavenly bodies was not, i must confess, very striking; but by making believe pretty hard we managed to get along. a spectator would have been amused could he have seen with what grave solemnity i circulated the bread and tallow in their respective orbits, and have heard the long-drawn exclamations of astonishment from the natives as i brought the bread into eclipse behind the lump of tallow. my first lecture would have been a grand success if my native audience had only been able to understand the representative and symbolical character of the bread and tallow. the great trouble was that their imaginative faculties were weak. they could not be made to see that bread stood for the moon and tallow-for the earth, but persisted in regarding them as so many terrestrial products having an intrinsic value of their own. they accordingly melted up the earth to drink, devoured the moon whole, and wanted another lecture immediately. i endeavoured to explain to them that these lectures were intended to be _as_tronomical, not _gas_tronomical, and that eating and drinking up the heavenly bodies in this reckless way was very improper. astronomical science i assured them did not recognise any such eclipses as those produced by swallowing the planets, and however satisfactory such a course might be to them, it was very demoralising to my orrery. remonstrances had very little effect, and i was compelled to provide a new sun, moon, and earth for every, lecture. it soon became evident to me that these astronomical feasts were becoming altogether too popular, for my audience thought nothing of eating up a whole solar system every night, and planetary material was becoming scarce. i was finally compelled, therefore, to use stones and snowballs to represent celestial bodies, instead of bread and tallow, and from that time the interest in astronomical phenomena gradually abated and the popularity of my lectures steadily declined until i was left without a single hearer. the short winter day of three hours had long since closed and the night was far advanced when after twenty-three days of rough travel we drew near our final destination--the _ultima thule_ of russian civilisation. i was lying on my sledge nearly buried in heavy furs and half asleep, when the distant barking of dogs announced our approach to the village of anadyrsk. i made a hurried attempt to change my thick fur _torbassa_ and overstockings for american boots, but was surprised in the very act by the drawing up of my sledge before the house of the russian priest, where we intended to stop until we could make arrangements for a house of our own. a crowd of curious spectators had gathered about the door to see the wonderful amerikanse about whom they had heard, and prominent in the centre of the fur-clad group stood the priest, with long flowing hair and beard, dressed in a voluminous black robe, and holding above his head a long tallow candle which flared wildly in the cold night air. as soon as i could disencumber my feet of my overstockings i alighted from my sledge, amid profound bows and "zdrastvuitias" from the crowd, and received a hearty welcome from the patriarchal priest. three weeks roughing it in the wilderness had not, i fancy, improved my personal appearance, and my costume would have excited a sensation anywhere except in siberia. my face, which was not over clean, was darkened by three weeks' growth of beard; my hair was in confusion and hung in long ragged locks over my forehead, and the fringe of shaggy black bearskin around my face gave me a peculiarly wild and savage expression of countenance. the american boots which i had hastily drawn on as we entered the village were all that indicated any previous acquaintance with civilisation. replying to the respectful salutations of the chuances, yukagirs, and russian cossacks who in yellow fur hoods and potted deerskin coats crowded about the door, i followed the priest into the house. it was the second dwelling worthy the name of house which i had entered in twenty-two days, and after the smoky korak _yurts_ of kuil, mikina, and shestakóva, it seemed to me to be a perfect palace. the floor was carpeted with soft, dark deerskins in which one's feet sank deeply at every step; a blazing fire burned in a neat fireplace in one corner, and flooded the room with cheerful light; the tables were covered with bright american table-cloths; a tiny gilt taper was lighted before a massive gilt shrine opposite the door; the windows were of glass instead of the slabs of ice and the smoky fish bladders to which i had become accustomed; a few illustrated newspapers lay on a stand in one corner, and everything in the house was arranged with a taste and a view to comfort which were as welcome to a tired traveller as they were unexpected in this land of desolate steppes and uncivilised people. dodd, who was driving his own sledge, had not yet arrived; but from the door we could hear a voice in the adjoining forest singing "won't i be glad when i get out of the wilderness, out o' the wilderness, out o' the wilderness," the musician being entirely unconscious that he was near the village, or that his melodiously expressed desire to "get out o' the wilderness" was overheard by any one else. my russian was not extensive or accurate enough to enable me to converse very satisfactorily with the priest, and i was heartily glad when dodd _got_ out of the wilderness, and appeared to relieve my embarrassment. he didn't look much better than i did; that was one comfort. i drew mental comparisons as soon as he entered the room and convinced myself that one looked as much like a korak as the other, and that neither could claim precedence in point of civilisation on account of superior elegance of dress. we shook hands with the priest's wife--a pale slender lady with light hair and dark eyes,--made the acquaintance of two or three pretty little children, who fled from us in affright as soon as they were released, and finally seated ourselves at the table to drink tea. our host's cordial manner soon put us at our ease, and in ten minutes dodd was rattling off fluently a highly coloured account of our adventures and sufferings, laughing, joking, and drinking vodka with the priest, as unceremoniously as if he had known him for ten years instead of as many minutes. that was a peculiar gift of dodd's, which i often used to envy. in five minutes, with the assistance of a little vodka, he would break down the ceremonious reserve of the severest old patriarch in the whole greek church, and completely carry him by storm; while i could only sit by and smile feebly, without being able to say a word. great is "the gift o' gab." after an excellent supper of _shchi_ (shchee) or cabbage-soup, fried cutlets, white bread and butter, we spread our bearskins down on the floor, undressed ourselves for the second time in three weeks, and went to bed. the sensation of sleeping without furs, and with uncovered heads, was so strange, that for a long time we lay awake, watching the red flickering firelight on the wall, and enjoying the delicious warmth of soft, fleecy blankets, and the luxury of unconfined limbs and bare feet. chapter xxvi anadyrsk--an arctic outpost--severe climate christmas services and carols--a siberian ball--music and refreshments--excited dancing holiday amusements the four little russian and native villages, just south of the arctic circle, which are collectively known as anadyrsk, form the last link in the great chain of settlements which extends in one almost unbroken line from the ural mountains to bering strait. owing to their peculiarly isolated situation, and the difficulties and hardships of travel during the only season in which they are accessible, they had never, previous to our arrival, been visited by any foreigner, with the single exception of a swedish officer in the russian service, who led an exploring party from anadyrsk toward bering strait in the winter of - . cut off, during half the year, from all the rest of the world, and visited only at long intervals by a few half-civilised traders, this little quadruple village was almost as independent and self-sustained as if it were situated on an island in the midst of the arctic ocean. even its existence, to those who had no dealings with it, was a matter of question. it was founded early in the eighteenth century, by a band of roving, adventurous cossacks, who, having conquered nearly all the rest of siberia, pushed through the mountains from kolyma to the anadyr, drove out the chukchis, who resisted their advance, and established a military post on the river, a few versts above the site of the present settlement. a desultory warfare then began between the chukchis and the russian invaders, which lasted, with varying success, for many years. during a considerable part of the time anadyrsk was garrisoned by a force of six hundred men and a battery of artillery; but after the discovery and settlement of kamchatka it sank into comparative unimportance, the troops were mostly withdrawn, and it was finally captured by the chukchis and burned. during the war which resulted in the destruction of anadyrsk, two native tribes, chuances and yukagirs, who had taken sides with the russians, were almost annihilated by the chukchis, and were never able afterward to regain their distinct tribal individuality. the few who were left lost all their reindeer and camp-equipage, and were compelled to settle down with their russian allies and gain a livelihood by hunting and fishing. they have gradually adopted russian customs and lost all their distinctive traits of character; and in a few years not a single living soul will speak the languages of those once powerful tribes. by the russians, chuances, and yukagirs, anadyrsk was finally rebuilt, and became in time a trading-post of considerable importance. tobacco, which had been introduced by the russians, soon acquired great popularity with the chukchis; and for the sake of obtaining this highly prized luxury they ceased hostilities, and began making yearly visits to anadyrsk for the purpose of trade. they never entirely lost, however, a certain feeling of enmity toward the russians who had invaded their territory, and for many years would have no dealings with them except at the end of a spear. they would hang a bundle of furs or a choice walrus tooth upon the sharp polished blade of a long chukchi lance, and if a russian trader chose to take it off and suspend in its place a fair equivalent in the shape of tobacco, well and good; if not, there was no trade. this plan guaranteed absolute security against fraud, for there was not a russian in all siberia who dared to cheat one of these fierce savages, with the blade of a long lance ten inches from his breast bone. honesty was emphatically the best policy, and the moral suasion of a chukchi spear developed the most disinterested benevolence in the breast of the man who stood at the sharp end. the trade which was thus established still continues to be a source of considerable profit to the inhabitants of anadyrsk, and to the russian merchants who come there every year from gizhiga. [illustration: chukchis assembling at anadyrsk for the winter fair] the four small villages which compose the settlement, and which are distinctively known as "pokorukof," "osolkin," "markova," and "the crepast," have altogether a population of perhaps two hundred souls. the central village, called markova, is the residence of the priest and boasts a small rudely built church, but in winter it is a dreary place. its small log houses have no windows other than thick slabs of ice cut from the river; many of them are sunken in the ground for the sake of greater warmth, and all are more or less buried in snow. a dense forest of larch, poplar, and aspen surrounds the town, so that the traveller coming from gizhiga sometimes has to hunt for it a whole day, and if he be not familiar with the net-work of channels into which the anadyr river is here divided, he may not find it at all. the inhabitants of all four settlements divide their time in summer between fishing, and hunting the wild reindeer which make annual migrations across the river in immense herds. in winter they are generally absent with their sledges, visiting and trading with bands of wandering chukchis, going with merchandise to the great annual fair at kolyma, and hiring their services to the russian traders from gizhiga. the anadyr river, in the vicinity of the village and for a distance of seventy-five miles above, is densely wooded with trees from eighteen to twenty-four inches in diameter, although the latitude of the upper portion of it is ° n. the climate is very severe; meteorological observations which we made at markova in february, , showed that on sixteen days in that month the thermometer went to - °, on eight days it went below - °, five days below - °, and once to - °. this was the lowest temperature we ever experienced in siberia. the changes from intense cold to comparative warmth are sometimes very rapid. on february th, at a.m., the thermometer stood at - °, but in twenty-seven hours it had risen seventy-three degrees and stood at + °. on the st it marked + ° and on the d - °, an equally rapid change in the other direction. notwithstanding the climate, however, anadyrsk is as pleasant a place to live as are nine tenths of the russian settlements in north-eastern siberia, and we enjoyed the novelty of our life there in the winter of as much as we had enjoyed any part of our previous siberian experience. the day which succeeded our arrival we spent in resting and making ourselves as presentable as possible with the limited resources afforded by our sealskin trunks. thursday, january th, n.s. was the russian christmas, and we all rose about four hours before daylight to attend an early service in the church. everybody in the house was up; a fire burned brightly in the fireplace; gilded tapers were lighted before all the holy pictures and shrines in our room, and the air was fragrant with incense. out of doors there was not yet a sign of daybreak. the pleiades were low down in the west, the great constellation of orion had begun to sink, and a faint aurora was streaming up over the tree-tops north of the village. from every chimney rose a column of smoke and sparks, which showed that the inhabitants were all astir. we walked over to the little log church as quickly as possible, but the service had already commenced when we entered and silently took our places in the crowd of bowing worshippers. the sides of the room were lined with pictures of patriarchs and russian saints, before which were burning long wax candles wound spirally with strips of gilded paper. clouds of blue fragrant incense rolled up toward the roof from swinging censers, and the deep intonation of the gorgeously attired priest contrasted strangely with the high soprano chanting of the choir. the service of the greek church is more impressive, if possible, than that of the romish; but as it is conducted in the old slavonic language, it is almost wholly unintelligible. the priest is occupied, most of the time, in gabbling rapid prayers which nobody can understand; swinging a censer, bowing, crossing himself, and kissing a huge bible, which i should think would weigh thirty pounds. the administration of the sacrament and the ceremonies attending the transubstantiation of the bread and wine are made very effective. the most beautiful feature in the whole service of the greco-russian church is the music. no one can listen to it without emotion, even in a little log chapel far away in the interior of siberia. rude as it may be in execution, it breathes the very spirit of devotion; and i have often stood through a long service of two or three hours, for the sake of hearing a few chanted psalms and prayers. even the tedious, rapid, and mixed-up jabbering of the priest is relieved at short intervals by the varied and beautifully modulated "gospodi pameelui" [god, have mercy!] and "padai gospodin" [grant, o lord!] of the choir. the congregation stands throughout even the longest service, and seems to be wholly absorbed in devotion. all cross themselves and bow incessantly in response to the words of the priest, and not unfrequently prostrate themselves entirely, and reverently press their foreheads and lips to the floor. to a spectator this seems very curious. one moment he is surrounded by a crowd of fur-clad natives and cossacks, who seem to be listening quietly to the service; then suddenly the whole congregation goes down upon the floor, like a platoon of infantry under the fire of a masked battery, and he is left standing alone in the midst of nearly a hundred prostrate forms. at the conclusion of the christmas morning service the choir burst forth into a jubilant hymn, to express the joy of the angels over the saviour's birth; and amid the discordant jangling of a chime of bells, which hung in a little log tower at the door, dodd and i made our way out of the church, and returned to the house to drink tea. i had just finished my last cup and lighted a cigarette, when the door suddenly opened, and half a dozen men, with grave, impassive countenances, marched in in single file, stopped a few paces from the holy pictures in the corner, crossed themselves devoutly in unison, and began to sing a simple but sweet russian melody, beginning with the words, "christ is born." not expecting to hear christmas carols in a little siberian settlement on the arctic circle, i was taken completely by surprise, and could only stare in amazement--first at dodd, to see what he thought about it, and then at the singers. the latter, in their musical ecstasy, seemed entirely to ignore our presence, and not until they had finished did they turn to us, shake hands, and wish us a merry christmas. dodd gave each of them a few kopecks, and with repeated wishes of merry christmas, long life, and much happiness to our "high excellencies," the men withdrew to visit in turn the other houses of the village. one band of singers came after another, until at daylight all the younger portion of the population had visited our house, and received our kopecks. some of the smaller boys, more intent upon the acquisition of coppers than they were upon the solemnity of the ceremony, rather marred its effect by closing up their hymn with "christ is born, gim'me some money!" but most of them behaved with the utmost propriety, and left us greatly pleased with a custom so beautiful and appropriate. at sunrise all the tapers were extinguished, the people donned their gayest apparel, and the whole village gave itself up to the unrestrained enjoyment of a grand holiday. bells jangled incessantly from the church tower; dog-sledges, loaded with girls, went dashing about the streets, capsising into snow-drifts and rushing furiously down hills amid shouts of laughter; women in gay flowery calico dresses, with their hair tied up in crimson silk handkerchiefs, walked from house to house, paying visits of congratulation and talking over the arrival of the distinguished american officers; crowds of men played football on the snow, and the whole settlement presented an animated, lively appearance. on the evening of the third day after christmas, the priest gave in our honour a grand siberian ball, to which all the inhabitants of the four villages were invited, and for which the most elaborate preparations were made. a ball at the house of a priest on sunday night struck me as implying a good deal of inconsistency and i hesitated about sanctioning so plain a violation of the fourth commandment. dodd, however, proved to me in the most conclusive manner that, owing to difference in time, it was saturday in america and not sunday at all; that our friends at that very moment were engaged in business or pleasure and that our happening to be on the other side of the world was no reason why we should not do what our antipodal friends were doing at exactly the same time. i was conscious that this reasoning was sophistical, but dodd mixed me up so with his "longitude," "greenwich time," "bowditch's _navigator_," "russian sundays" and "american sundays," that i was hopelessly bewildered, and could not have told for my life whether it was today in america or yesterday, or when a siberian sunday did begin. i finally concluded that as the russians kept saturday night, and began another week at sunset on the sabbath, a dance would perhaps be sufficiently innocent for that evening. according to siberian ideas of propriety it was just the thing. a partition was removed in our house, the floor made bare, the room brilliantly illuminated with candles stuck against the wall with melted grease, benches placed around three sides of the house for the ladies, and about five o'clock the pleasure-seekers began to assemble. rather an early hour perhaps for a ball, but it seemed a very long time after dark. the crowd which soon gathered numbered about forty, the men being all dressed in heavy fur _kukhlánkas,_ fur trousers, and fur boots, and the ladies in thin white muslin and flowery calico prints. the costumes of the respective sexes did not seem to harmonise very well, one being light and airy enough for an african summer, while the other seemed suitable for an arctic expedition in search of sir john franklin. however, the general effect was very picturesque. the orchestra which was to furnish the music consisted of two rudely made violins, two _ballalaikas_ (bal-la-lai'-kahs) or triangular native guitars with two strings each, and a huge comb prepared with a piece of paper in a manner familiar to all boys. feeling a little curiosity to see how an affair of this kind would be managed upon siberian principles of etiquette, i sat quietly in a sheltered corner and watched the proceedings. the ladies, as fast as they arrived, seated themselves in a solemn row along a wooden bench at one end of the room, and the men stood up in a dense throng at the other. everybody was preternaturally sober. no one smiled, no one said anything; and the silence was unbroken save by an occasional rasping sound from an asthmatic fiddle in the orchestra, or a melancholy toot, toot, as one of the musicians tuned his comb. if this was to be the nature of the entertainment, i could not see any impropriety in having it on sunday. it was as mournfully suggestive as a funeral. little did i know, however, the capabilities of excitement which were concealed under the sober exteriors of those natives. in a few moments a little stir around the door announced refreshments, and a young chuancee brought round and handed to me a huge wooden bowl, holding about four quarts of raw frozen cranberries. i thought it could not be possible that i was expected to eat four quarts of frozen cranberries! but i took a spoonful or two, and looked to dodd for instructions. he motioned to me to pass them along, and as they tasted like acidulated hailstones, and gave me a toothache, i was very glad to do so. the next course consisted of another wooden bowl, filled with what seemed to be white pine shavings, and i looked at it in perfect astonishment. frozen cranberries and pine shavings were the most extraordinary refreshments that i had ever seen--even in siberia; but i prided myself upon my ability to eat almost anything, and if the natives could stand cranberries and shavings i knew i could. what seemed to be white pine shavings i found upon trial to be thin shavings of raw frozen fish--a great delicacy among the siberians, and one with which, under the name of "struganini" (stroo-gan-nee'-nee), i afterward became very familiar. i succeeded in disposing of these fish-shavings without any more serious result than an aggravation of my toothache. they were followed by white bread and butter, cranberry tarts, and cups of boiling hot tea, with which the supper finally ended. we were then supposed to be prepared for the labours of the evening; and after a good deal of preliminary scraping and tuning the orchestra struck up a lively russian dance called "kapalooshka." the heads and right legs of the musicians all beat time emphatically to the music, the man with the comb blew himself red in the face, and the whole assembly began to sing. in a moment one of the men, clad in a spotted deerskin coat and buckskin trousers, sprang into the centre of the room and bowed low to a lady who sat upon one end of a long crowded bench. the lady rose with a graceful courtesy and they began a sort of half dance half pantomime about the room, advancing and retiring in perfect time to the music, crossing over and whirling swiftly around, the man apparently making love to the lady, and the lady repulsing all his advances, turning away and hiding her face with her handkerchief. after a few moments of this dumb show the lady retired and another took her place; the music doubled its energy and rapidity, the dancers began the execution of a tremendous "break-down," and shrill exciting cries of "heekh! heekh! heekh! vallai-i-i! ne fstavai-i-i!" resounded from all parts of the room, together with terrific tootings from the comb and the beating of half a hundred feet on the bare planks. my blood began to dance in my veins with the contagious excitement. suddenly the man dropped down upon his stomach on the floor at the feet of his partner, and began jumping around like a huge broken-legged grasshopper upon his elbows and the ends of his toes! this extraordinary feat brought down the house in the wildest enthusiasm, and the uproar of shouting and singing drowned all the instruments except the comb, which still droned away like a scottish bagpipe in its last agonies! such singing, such dancing, and such excitement, i had never before witnessed. it swept away my self-possession like the blast of a trumpet sounding a charge. at last, the man, after dancing successively with all the ladies in the room, stopped apparently exhausted--and i have no doubt that he was--and with the perspiration rolling in streams down his face, went in search of some frozen cranberries to refresh himself after his violent exertion. to this dance, which is called the "russki" (roo'-ski), succeeded another known as the "cossack waltz," in which dodd to my great astonishment promptly joined. i knew i could dance anything he could; so, inviting a lady in red and blue calico to participate, i took my place on the floor. the excitement was perfectly indescribable, when the two americans began revolving swiftly around the room; the musicians became almost frantic in their endeavours to play faster, the man with the comb blew himself into a fit of coughing and had to sit down, and a regular tramp, tramp, tramp, from fifty or sixty feet, marked time to the music, together with encouraging shouts of "vallai! amerikansi! heekh! heekh! heekh!" and the tumultuous singing of the whole crazy multitude. the pitch of excitement to which these natives work themselves up in the course of these dances is almost incredible, and it has a wonderfully inspiriting effect even upon a foreigner. had i not been temporarily insane with unnatural enthusiasm, i should never have made myself ridiculous by attempting to dance that cossack waltz. it is regarded as a great breach of etiquette in siberia, after once getting upon the floor, to sit down until you have danced, or at least offered to dance, with all the ladies in the room; and if they are at all numerous, it is a very fatiguing sort of amusement. by the time dodd and i finished we were ready to rush out-doors, sit down on a snow-bank, and eat frozen fish and cranberry hailstones by the quart. our whole physical system seemed melting with fervent heat. as an illustration of the esteem with which americans are regarded in that benighted settlement of anadyrsk, i will just mention that in the course of my cossack waltz i stepped accidentally with my heavy boot upon the foot of a russian peasant. i noticed that his face wore for a moment an expression of intense pain, and as soon as the dance was over, i went to him, with dodd as interpreter, to apologise. he interrupted me with a profusion of bows, protested that it didn't hurt him _at all_, and declared, with an emphasis which testified to his sincerity, that he regarded it as an honour to have his toe stepped on by an american! i had never before realised what a proud and enviable distinction i enjoyed in being a native of our highly favoured country! i could stalk abroad into foreign lands with a reckless disregard for everybody's toes, and the full assurance that the more toes i stepped on the more honour i would confer upon benighted foreigners, and the more credit i would reflect upon my own benevolent disposition! this was clearly the place for unappreciated americans to come to; and if any young man finds that his merits are not properly recognised at home, i advise him in all seriousness to go to siberia, where the natives will regard it as an honour to have him step on their toes. dances interspersed with curious native games and frequent refreshments of frozen cranberries prolonged the entertainment until two o'clock, when it finally broke up, having lasted nine hours. i have described somewhat in detail this dancing party because it is the principal amusement of the semi-civilised inhabitants of all the russian settlements in siberia, and shows better than anything else the careless, happy disposition of the people. throughout the holidays the whole population did nothing but pay visits, give tea parties, and amuse themselves with dancing, sleigh-riding, and playing ball. every evening between christmas and new year, bands of masqueraders dressed in fantastic costumes went around with music to all the houses in the village and treated the inmates to songs and dances. the inhabitants of these little russian settlements in north-eastern siberia are the most careless, warmhearted, hospitable people in the world, and their social life, rude as it is, partakes of all these characteristics. there is no ceremony or affectation, no "putting on of style" by any particular class. all mingle unreservedly together and treat each other with the most affectionate cordiality, the men often kissing one another when they meet and part, as if they were brothers. their isolation from all the rest of the world seems to have bound them together with ties of mutual sympathy and dependence, and banished all feelings of envy, jealousy, and petty selfishness. during our stay with the priest we were treated with the most thoughtful consideration and kindness, and his small store of luxuries, such as flour, sugar, and butter, was spent lavishly in providing for our table. as long as it lasted he was glad to share it with us, and never hinted at compensation or seemed to think that he was doing any more than hospitality required. [illustration: anadyrsk in winter] with the first ten days of our stay at anadyrsk are connected some of the pleasantest recollections of our siberian life. [illustration: woman's mittens of elk skin] chapter xxvii news from the anadyr party--plan for its relief--the story of a stove-pipe--start for the seacoast immediately after our arrival at anadyrsk we i had made inquiries as to the party of americans who were said to be living somewhere near the mouth of the anadyr river; but we were not able to get any information in addition to that we already possessed. wandering chukchis had brought the news to the settlement that a small band of white men had been landed on the coast south of bering strait late in the fall, from a "fire-ship" or steamer; that they had dug a sort of cellar in the ground, covered it over with bushes and boards, and gone into winter quarters. who they were, what they had come for, and how long they intended to stay, were questions which now agitated the whole chukchi nation, but which no one could answer. their little subterranean hut had been entirely buried, the natives said, by the drifting snows of winter, and nothing but a curious iron tube out of which came smoke and sparks showed where the white men lived. this curious iron tube which so puzzled the chukchis we at once supposed to be a stove-pipe, and it furnished the strongest possible confirmation of the truth of the story. no siberian native could ever have invented the idea of a stove-pipe--somebody must have seen one; and this fact alone convinced us beyond a doubt that there were americans living somewhere on the coast of bering sea--probably an exploring party landed by colonel bulkley to cooperate with us. the instructions which the major gave me when we left gizhiga did not provide for any such contingency as the landing of this party near bering strait, because at that time we had abandoned all hope of such cooperation and expected to explore the country by our own unaided exertions. the engineer-in-chief had promised faithfully, when we sailed from san francisco, that, if he should leave a party of men at the mouth of the anadyr river at all, he would leave them there early in the season with a large whale-boat, so that they could ascend the river to a settlement before the opening of winter. when we met the anadyrsk people, therefore, at gizhiga, late in november, and learned that nothing had been heard of any such party, we of course concluded that for some reason the plan which colonel bulkley proposed had been given up. no one dreamed that he would leave a mere handful of men in the desolate region south of bering strait at the beginning of an arctic winter, without any means whatever of transportation, without any shelter, surrounded by fierce tribes of lawless natives, and distant more than two hundred miles from the nearest civilised human being. what was such an unfortunate party to do? they could only live there in inactivity until they starved, were murdered, or were brought away by an expedition sent to their rescue from the interior. such was the situation when dodd and i arrived at anadyrsk. our orders were to leave the anadyr river unexplored until another season; but we knew that as soon as the major should receive the letters which had passed through our hands at shestakóva he would learn that a party had been landed south of bering strait, and would send us orders by special courier to go in search of it and bring it to anadyrsk, where it would be of some use. we therefore determined to anticipate these orders and hunt up that american stove-pipe upon our own responsibility. our situation, however, was a very peculiar one. we had no means of finding out where we were ourselves, or where the american party was. we had not been furnished with instruments for making astronomical observations, could not determine with any kind of accuracy our latitude and longitude, and did not know whether we were two hundred miles from the pacific coast or five hundred. according to the report of lieutenant phillippeus, who had partially explored the anadyr river, it was about a thousand versts from the settlement to anadyr bay, while according to the dead reckoning which we had kept from gizhiga it could not be over four hundred. the real distance was to us a question of vital importance, because we should be obliged to carry dog-food for the whole trip, and if it was anything like a thousand versts we should in all probability lose our dogs by starvation before we could possibly get back. besides this, when we finally reached anadyr bay, if we ever did, we should have no means of finding out where the americans were; and unless we happened to meet a band of chukchis who had seen them, we might wander over those desolate plains for a month without coming across the stove-pipe, which was the only external sign of their subterranean habitation. it would be far worse than the proverbial search for a needle in a haystack. when we made known to the people of anadyrsk our intention of going to the pacific coast, and called for volunteers to make up a party, we met with the most discouraging opposition. the natives declared unanimously that such a journey was impossible, that it had never been accomplished, that the lower anadyr was swept by terrible storms and perfectly destitute of wood, that the cold there was always intense, and that we should inevitably starve to death, freeze to death, or lose all our dogs. they quoted the experience of lieutenant phillippeus, who had narrowly escaped starvation in the same region in , and said that while he started in the spring we proposed to go in midwinter, when the cold was most intense and the storms most severe. such an adventure they declared was almost certain to end in disaster. our cossack gregorie, a brave and trustworthy old man, had been lieutenant phillippeus's guide and chukchi interpreter in , had been down the river about a hundred and fifty miles in winter, and knew something about it. we accordingly dismissed the natives and talked the matter over with him. he said that as far as he had ever gone towards anadyr bay there was trailing-pine enough along the banks of the river to supply us with firewood, and that the country was no worse than much of that over which we had already travelled between gizhiga and anadyrsk. he said that he was entirely willing to undertake the trip, and would go with his own team of dogs wherever we would lead the way. the priest also, who had been down the river in summer, believed the journey to be practicable, and said he would go himself if he could do any good. upon the strength of this encouragement we gave the natives our final decision, showed them the letter which we brought from the russian governor at gizhiga authorising us to demand men and sledges for all kinds of service, and told them that if they still refused to go we would send a special messenger to gizhiga and report their disobedience. this threat and the example of our cossack gregorie, who was known to be an experienced guide from the okhotsk sea to the arctic ocean, finally had the desired effect. eleven men agreed to go, and we began at once to collect dog-food and provisions for an early start. we had as yet only the vaguest, most indefinite information with regard to the situation of the american party, and we determined to wait a few days until a cossack named kozhevin (ko-zhay'-vin), who had gone to visit a band of wandering chukchis, should return. the priest was sure that he would bring later and more trustworthy intelligence, because the wandering natives throughout the whole country knew of the arrival of the mysterious white men, and would probably tell kozhevin approximately where they were. in the meantime we made some additions to our heavy suits of furs, prepared masks of squirrelskin to be worn over the face in extremely low temperatures, and set all the women in the village at work upon a large fur tent. on saturday, jan. th, n.s., kozhevin returned from his visit to the chukchis north of anadyrsk, bringing as we expected later and fuller particulars with regard to the party of exiled americans south of bering strait. it consisted, according to the best chukchi intelligence, of only five men, and was located on or near the anadyr river, about one day's journey above its mouth. these five men were living, as we had previously been told, in a little subterranean house rudely constructed of bushes and boards, and entirely buried in drifted snow. they were said to be well supplied with provisions, and had a great many barrels, which the chukchis supposed to contain vodka, but which we presumed to be barrels of salt-beef. they made a fire, the natives said, in the most wonderful manner by burning "black stones in an iron box," while all the smoke came out mysteriously through a crooked iron tube which turned around when the wind blew! in this vivid but comical description we of course recognised a coal stove and a pipe with a rotary funnel. they had also, kozhevin was told, an enormous tame black bear, which they allowed to run loose around the house, and which chased away the chukchis in a most energetic manner. when i heard this i could no longer restrain a hurrah of exultation. the party was made up of our old san francisco comrades, and the tame black bear was robinson's newfoundland dog! i had petted him a hundred times in america and had his picture among my photographs. he was the dog of the expedition. there could no longer be any doubt whatever that the party thus living under the snow on the great steppes south of bering strait was the long talked of anadyr river exploring party, under the command of lieutenant macrae; and our hearts beat fast with excitement as we thought of the surprise which we should give our old friends and comrades by coming upon them suddenly in that desolate, godforsaken region, almost two thousand miles away from the point where they supposed we had landed. such a meeting would repay us tenfold for all the hardships of our siberian life. everything, by this time, was ready for a start. our sledges were loaded five feet high with provisions and dog-food for thirty days; our fur tent was completed and packed away, to be used if necessary in intensely cold weather; bags, overstockings, masks, thick sleeping-coats, snow-shovels, axes, rifles, and long siberian snow-shoes were distributed around among the different sledges, and everything which gregorie, dodd, and i could think of was done to insure the success of the expedition. on monday morning, jan. d, the whole party assembled in front of the priest's house. for the sake of economising transportation, and sharing the fortunes of our men, whatever they might be, dodd and i abandoned our _pavoskas_, and drove our own loaded sledges. we did not mean to have the natives say that we compelled them to go and then avoided our share of work and hardships. the entire population of the village, men, women, and children, turned out to see us off, and the street before the priest's house was blocked up with a crowd of dark-faced men in spotted fur coats, scarlet sashes, and fierce-looking foxskin hoods, anxious-faced women running to and fro and bidding their husbands and brothers good-bye, eleven long, narrow sledges piled high with dried fish and covered with yellow buckskin and lashings of sealskin thongs, and finally a hundred and twenty-five shaggy wolfish dogs, who drowned every other sound with their combined howls of fierce impatience. our drivers went into the priest's house, and crossed themselves and prayed before the picture of the saviour, as is their custom when starting on a long journey; dodd and i bade good-bye to the kind-hearted priest, and received the cordial "s' bokhem" (go with god), which is the russian farewell; and then springing upon our sledges, and releasing our frantic dogs, we went flying out of the village in a cloud of snow which glittered like powdered jewel-dust in the red sunshine. beyond the two or three hundred miles of snowy desert which lay before us we could see, in imagination, a shadowy stove-pipe rising out of a bank of snow--the "san greal" of which we, as arctic knights-errant, were in search. [illustration: ceremonial masks of wood] chapter xxviii a sledge journey eastward--reaching tide-water--a night search for a stove-pipe--finding comrades--a voice from a stove--story of the anadyr party i will not detain the reader long with the first part of our journey from anadyrsk to the pacific coast, as it did not differ much from our previous siberian experience. riding all day over the ice of the river, or across barren steppes, and camping out at night on the snow, in all kinds of weather, made up our life; and its dreary monotony was relieved only by anticipations of a joyful meeting with our exiled friends and the exciting consciousness that we were penetrating a country never before visited by civilised man. day by day the fringe of alder bushes along the river bank grew lower and more scanty, and the great steppes that bordered the river became whiter and more barren as the river widened toward the sea. finally we left behind us the last vestige of vegetation, and began the tenth day of our journey along a river which had increased to a mile in width, and amidst plains perfectly destitute of all life, which stretched away in one unbroken white expanse until they blended with the distant sky. it was not without uneasiness that i thought of the possibility of being overtaken by a ten days' storm in such a region as this. we had made, as nearly as we could estimate, since leaving anadyrsk, about two hundred versts; but whether we were anywhere near the seacoast or not we had no means of knowing. the weather for nearly a week had been generally clear, and not very cold; but on the night of february st the thermometer sank to - °, and we could find only just enough small green bushes to boil our teakettle. we dug everywhere in the snow in search of wood, but found nothing except moss, and a few small cranberry bushes which would not burn. tired with the long day's travel, and the fruitless diggings for wood, dodd and i returned to camp, and threw ourselves down upon our bearskins to drink tea. hardly had dodd put his cup to his lips when i noticed that a curious, puzzled expression came over his face, as if he found something singular and unusual in the taste of the tea. i was just about to ask him what was the matter, when he cried in a joyful and surprised voice, "tide-water! the tea is salt!" thinking that perhaps a little salt might have been dropped accidentally into the tea, i sent the men down to the river for some fresh ice, which we carefully melted. it was unquestionably salt. we had reached the tide-water of the pacific, and the ocean itself could not be far distant. one more day must certainly bring us to the house of the american party, or to the mouth of the river. from all appearances we should find no more wood; and anxious to make the most of the clear weather, we slept only about six hours, and started on at midnight by the light of a brilliant moon. [illustration: a man of the yukagirs] on the eleventh day after our departure from anadyrsk, toward the close of the long twilight which succeeds an arctic day, our little train of eleven sledges drew near the place where, from chukchi accounts, we expected to find the long-exiled party of americans. the night was clear, still, and intensely cold, the thermometer at sunset marking forty-four degrees below zero, and sinking rapidly to - ° as the rosy flush in the west grew fainter and fainter, and darkness settled down upon the vast steppe. many times before, in siberia and kamchatka, i had seen nature in her sterner moods and winter garb; but never before had the elements of cold, barrenness, and desolation seemed to combine into a picture so dreary as the one which was presented to us that night near bering strait. far as eye could pierce the gathering gloom in every direction lay the barren steppe like a boundless ocean of snow, blown into long wave-like ridges by previous storms. there was not a tree, nor a bush, nor any sign of animal or vegetable life, to show that we were not travelling on a frozen ocean. all was silence and desolation. the country seemed abandoned by god and man to the arctic spirit, whose trembling banners of auroral light flared out fitfully in the north in token of his conquest and dominion. about eight o'clock the full moon rose huge and red in the east, casting a lurid glare over the vast field of snow; but, as if it too were under the control of the arctic spirit, it was nothing more than the mockery of a moon, and was constantly assuming the most fantastic and varied shapes. now it extended itself laterally into a long ellipse, then gathered itself up into the semblance of a huge red urn, lengthened out to a long perpendicular bar with rounded ends, and finally became triangular. it can hardly be imagined what added wildness and strangeness this blood-red distorted moon gave to a scene already wild and strange. we seemed to have entered upon some frozen abandoned world, where all the ordinary laws and phenomena of nature were suspended, where animal and vegetable life were extinct, and from which even the favour of the creator had been withdrawn. the intense cold, the solitude, the oppressive silence, and the red, gloomy moonlight, like the glare of a distant but mighty conflagration, all united to excite in the mind feelings of awe, which were perhaps intensified by the consciousness that never before had any human being, save a few wandering chukchis, ventured in winter upon these domains of the frost king. there was none of the singing, joking, and hallooing, with which our drivers were wont to enliven a night journey. stolid and unimpressible though they might be, there was something in the scene which even _they_ felt and were silent. hour after hour wore slowly away until midnight. we had passed by more than twenty miles the point on the river where the party of americans was supposed to be; but no sign had been found of the subterranean house or its projecting stove-pipe, and the great steppe still stretched away before us, white, ghastly, and illimitable as ever. for nearly twenty-four hours we had travelled without a single stop, night or day, except one at sunrise to rest our tired dogs; and the intense cold, fatigue, anxiety, and lack of warm food, began at last to tell upon our silent but suffering men. we realised for the first time the hazardous nature of the adventure in which we were engaged, and the almost absolute hopelessness of the search which we were making for the lost american party. we had not one chance in a hundred of finding at midnight on that vast waste of snow a little buried hut, whose location we did not know within fifty miles, and of whose very existence we were by no means certain. who could tell whether the americans had not abandoned their subterranean house two months before, and removed with some friendly natives to a more comfortable and sheltered situation? we had heard nothing from them later than december st, and it was now february. they might in that time have gone a hundred miles down the coast looking for a settlement, or have wandered far back into the interior with a band of reindeer chukchis. it was not probable that they would have spent four months in that dreary, desolate region without making an effort to escape. even if they were still in their old camp, however, how were we to find them? we might have passed their little underground hut unobserved hours before, and might be now going farther and farther away from it, from wood, and from shelter. it had seemed a very easy thing before we left anadyrsk, to simply go down the river until we came to a house on the bank, or saw a stove-pipe sticking out of a snow-drift; but now, two hundred and fifty or three hundred miles from the settlement, in a temperature of ° below zero, when our lives perhaps depended upon finding that little buried hut, we realised how wild had been our anticipations, and how faint were our prospects of success. the nearest wood was more than fifty miles behind us, and in our chilled and exhausted condition we dared not camp without a fire. we must go either forward or back--find the hut within four hours, or abandon the search and return as rapidly as possible to the nearest wood. our dogs were beginning already to show unmistakable signs of exhaustion, and their feet, lacerated by ice which had formed between the toes, were now spotting the snow with blood at every step. unwilling to give up the search while there remained any hope, we still went on to the eastward, along the edges of high bare bluffs skirting the river, separating our sledges as widely as possible, and extending our line so as to cover a greater extent of ground. a full moon now high in the heavens, lighted up the vast lonely plain on the north side of the river as brilliantly as day; but its whiteness was unbroken by any dark object, save here and there little hillocks of moss or swampy grass from which the snow had been swept by furious winds. we were all suffering severely from cold, and our fur hoods and the breasts of our fur coats were masses of white frost which had been formed by our breaths. i had put on two heavy reindeerskin _kukhlankas_ weighing in the aggregate about thirty pounds, belted them tightly about the waist with a sash, drawn their thick hoods up over my head and covered my face with a squirrelskin mask; but in spite of all i could only keep from freezing by running beside my sledge. dodd said nothing, but was evidently disheartened and half-frozen, while the natives sat silently upon their sledges as if they expected nothing and hoped for nothing. only gregorie and an old chukchi whom we had brought with us as a guide showed any energy or seemed to have any confidence in the ultimate discovery of the party. they went on in advance, digging everywhere in the snow for wood, examining carefully the banks of the river, and making occasional détours into the snowy plain to the northward. at last dodd, without saying anything to me, gave his spiked stick to one of the natives, drew his head and arms into the body of his fur coat, and lay down upon his sledge to sleep, regardless of my remonstrances, and paying no attention whatever to my questions. he was evidently becoming stupefied by the deadly chill, which struck through the heaviest furs, and which was constantly making insidious advances from the extremities to the seat of life. he probably would not live through the night unless he could be roused, and might not live two hours. discouraged by his apparently hopeless condition, and exhausted by the constant struggle to keep warm, i finally lost all hope and reluctantly decided to abandon the search and camp. by stopping where we were, breaking up one of our sledges for firewood, and boiling a little tea, i thought that dodd might be revived; but to go on to the eastward seemed to be needlessly risking the lives of all without any apparent prospect of discovering the party or of finding wood. i had just given the order to the natives nearest me to camp, when i thought i heard a faint halloo in the distance. all the blood in my veins suddenly rushed with a great throb to the heart as i threw back my fur hood and listened. again, a faint, long-drawn cry came back through the still atmosphere from the sledges in advance. my dogs pricked up their ears at the startling sound and dashed eagerly forward, and in a moment i came upon several of our leading drivers gathered in a little group around what seemed to be an old overturned whale-boat, which lay half buried in snow by the river's bank. the footprint in the sand was not more suggestive to robinson crusoe than was this weather-beaten, abandoned whale-boat to us, for it showed that somewhere in the vicinity were shelter and life. one of the men a few moments before had driven over some dark, hard object in the snow, which he at first supposed to be a log of driftwood; but upon stopping to examine it, he found it to be an american whale-boat. if ever we thanked god from the bottom of our hearts, it was then. brushing away with my mitten the long fringes of frost which hung to my eyelashes, i looked eagerly around for a house, but gregorie had been quicker than i, and a joyful shout from a point a little farther down the river announced another discovery. i left my dogs to go where they chose, threw away my spiked stick, and started at a run in the direction of the sound. in a moment i saw gregorie and the old chukchi standing beside a low mound of snow, about a hundred yards back from the river-bank, examining some dark object which projected from its smooth white surface. it was the long talked-of, long-looked-for stove-pipe! the anadyr river party was found. the unexpected discovery, at midnight, of this party of countrymen, when we had just given up all hope of shelter, and almost of life, was a god-send to our disheartened spirits, and i hardly knew in my excitement what i did. i remember now walking hastily back and forth in front of the snow-drift, repeating softly to myself at every step, "thank god!" "thank god!" but at the time i was not conscious of anything except the great fact that we had found that party. dodd, who had been roused from his half-frozen lethargy by the strong excitement of the discovery, now suggested that we try to find the entrance to the house and get in as quickly, as possible, as he was nearly dead from cold and exhaustion. there was no sound of life in the lonely snow-drift before us, and the inmates, if it had any, were evidently asleep. seeing no sign anywhere of a door, i walked up on the drift, and shouted down through the stove-pipe in tremendous tones, "halloo the house!" a startled voice from under my feet demanded "who's there?" "come out and see! where's the door?" my voice seemed to the astounded americans inside to come out of the stove--a phenomenon which was utterly unparalleled in all their previous experience; but they reasoned very correctly that any stove which could ask in good english for the door in the middle of the night had an indubitable right to be answered; and they replied in a hesitating and half-frightened tone that the door was "on the south-east corner." this left us about as wise as before. in the first place we did not know which way south-east was, and in the second a snow-drift could not properly be described as having a corner. i started around the stove-pipe, however, in a circle, with the hope of finding some sort of an entrance. the inmates had dug a deep ditch or trench about thirty feet in length for a doorway, and had covered it over with sticks and reindeerskins to keep out the drifting snow. stepping incautiously upon this frail roof i fell through just as one of the startled men was coming out in his shirt and drawers, holding a candle above his head, and peering through the darkness of the tunnel to see who would enter. the sudden descent through the roof of such an apparition as i knew myself to be, was not calculated to restore the steadiness of startled nerves. i had on two heavy _kukhlankas_ which swelled out my figure to gigantic proportions; two thick reindeerskin hoods with long frosty fringes of black bearskin were pulled up over my head, a squirrelskin mask frozen into a sheet of ice concealed my face, and nothing but the eyes peering out through tangled masses of frosty hair showed that the furs contained a human being. the man took two or three frightened steps backward and nearly dropped his candle. i came in such a "questionable shape" that he might well demand "whether my intents were wicked or charitable!" as i recognised his face, however, and addressed him again in english, he stopped; and tearing off my mask and fur hoods i spoke my name. never was there such rejoicing as that which then took place in that little underground cellar, as i recognised in the exiled party two of my old comrades and friends, to whom eight months before i had bid good-bye, as the _olga_ sailed out of the golden gate of san francisco. i little thought when i shook hands with harder and robinson then, that i should next meet them at midnight, in a little snow-covered cellar, on the great lonely steppes of the lower anadyr. as soon as we had taken off our heavy furs and seated ourselves beside a warm fire, we began to feel the sudden reaction which necessarily followed twenty-four hours of such exposure, suffering, and anxiety. our overstrained nerves gave way all at once, and in ten minutes i could hardly raise a cup of coffee to my lips. ashamed of such womanish weakness, i tried to conceal it from the americans, and i presume they do not know to this day that dodd and i nearly fainted several times within the first twenty minutes, from the suddenness of the change from ° below zero to ° above, and the nervous exhaustion produced by anxiety and lack of sleep. we felt an irresistible craving for some powerful stimulant and called for brandy, but there was no liquor of any kind to be had. this weakness, however, soon passed away, and we proceeded to relate to one another our respective histories and adventures, while our drivers huddled together in a mass at one end of the little hut and refreshed themselves with hot tea. the party of americans which we had thus found buried in the snow, more than three hundred versts from anadyrsk, had been landed there by one of the company's vessels, some time in september. their intention had been to ascend the river in a whale-boat until they should reach some settlement, and then try to open communication with us; but winter set in so suddenly, and the river froze over so unexpectedly, that this plan could not be carried out. having no means of transportation but their boat, they could do nothing more than build themselves a house, and go into winter quarters, with the faint hope that, some time before spring, major abaza would send a party of men to their relief. they had built a sort of burrow underground, with bushes, driftwood, and a few boards which had been left by the vessel, and there they had been living by lamp-light for five months, without ever seeing the face of a civilised human being. the wandering chukchis had soon found out their situation and frequently visited them on reindeer-sledges, and brought them fresh meat, and blubber which they used for lamp-oil; but these natives, on account of a superstition which i have previously mentioned, refused to sell them any living reindeer, so that all their efforts to procure transportation were unavailing. the party originally consisted of five men--macrae, arnold, robinson, harder, and smith; but macrae and arnold, about three weeks previous to our arrival, had organised themselves into a "forlorn hope," and had gone away with a large band of wandering chukchis in search, of some russian settlement. since that time nothing had been heard from them, and robinson, harder, and smith had been living alone. such was the situation when we found the party. of course, there was nothing to be done but carry these three men and all their stores back to anadyrsk, where we should probably find macrae and arnold awaiting our arrival. the chukchis came to anadyrsk, i knew, every winter, for the purpose of trade, and would probably bring the two americans with them. after three days spent in resting, refitting, and packing up, we started back with the rescued party, and on february th we returned in safety to anadyrsk. [illustration: stone hatchet for cutting edible grass] chapter xxix classification of natives--indian type, mongolian type, and turkish type--eastern view of western arts and fashions--an american saint all the inhabitants of the settlement were in the streets to meet us when we returned; but we were disappointed not to see among them the faces of macrae and arnold. many bands of chukchis from the lower anadyr had arrived at the village, but nothing had been heard of the missing men. forty-five days had now elapsed since they left their camp on the river, and, unless they had died or been murdered, they ought long since to have arrived. i should have sent a party in search of them, but i had not the slightest clue to the direction in which they had gone, or the intentions of the party that had carried them away; and to look for a band of wandering chukchis on those great steppes was as hopeless as to look for a missing vessel in the middle of the pacific ocean, and far more dangerous. we could only wait, therefore, and hope for the best. we spent the first week after our return in resting, writing up our journals, and preparing a report of our explorations, to be forwarded by special courier to the major. during this time great numbers of wild, wandering natives--chukchis, lamutkis (la-moot'-kees) and a few koraks--came into the settlement to exchange their furs and walrus teeth for tobacco, and gave us an excellent opportunity of studying their various characteristics and modes of life. the wandering chukchis, who visited us in the greatest numbers, were evidently the most powerful tribe in north-eastern siberia, and impressed us very favourably with their general appearance and behaviour. except for their dress, they could hardly have been distinguished from north american indians--many of them being as tall, athletic, and vigorous specimens of savage manhood as i had ever seen. they did not differ in any essential particular from the wandering koraks, whose customs, religion, and mode of life i have already described. [illustration: a man of the wandering chukchis] the lamutkis, however, were an entirely different race, and resembled the chukchis only in their nomadic habits. all the natives in north-eastern siberia, except the kamchadals, chuances, and yukagirs, who are partially russianised, may be referred to one or another of three great classes. the first of these, which may be called the north american indian class, comprises the wandering and settled chukchis and koraks, and covers that part of siberia lying between the th meridian of east longitude and bering strait. it is the only class which has ever made a successful stand against russian invasion, and embraces without doubt the bravest, most independent savages in all siberia. i do not think that this class numbers all together more than six or eight thousand souls, although the estimates of the russians are much larger. the second class comprises all the natives in eastern siberia who are evidently and unmistakably of mongolian origin, including the tunguses, the lamutkis, the manchus, and the gilyaks of the amur river. it covers a greater extent of ground probably than both of the other classes together, its representatives being found as far west as the yenesei, and as far east as anadyrsk, in ° e. long. the only branches of this class that i have ever seen are the lamutkis and the tunguses. they are almost exactly alike, both being very slenderly built men, with straight black hair, dark olive complexions, no beards, and more or less oblique eyes. they do not resemble a chukchi or a korak any more than a chinaman resembles a comanche or a sioux. their dress is very peculiar. it consists of a fur hood, tight fur trousers, short deerskin boots, a masonic apron, made of soft flexible buckskin and elaborately ornamented with beads and pieces of metal, and a singular-looking frock-coat cut in very civilised style out of deerskin, and ornamented with long strings of coloured reindeer hair made into chenille. you can never see one without having the impression that he is dressed in some kind of a regalia or uniform. the men and women resemble each other very much in dress and appearance, and by a stranger cannot be distinguished apart. like the chukchis and koraks, they are reindeer nomads, but differ somewhat from the former in their mode of life. their tents are smaller and differently constructed and instead of dragging their tent-poles from place to place as the chukchis do, they leave them standing; when they break camp, and either cut new ones or avail themselves of frames left standing by other bands. tent-poles in this way serve as landmarks, and a day's, journey is from one collection of frames to another. few of the tunguses or lamutkis own many deer. two or three hundred are considered to be a large herd, and a man who owns more than that is regarded as a sort of millionaire. such herds as are found among the koraks in northern kamchatka, numbering from five to ten thousand, are never to be seen west of gizhiga. the tunguses, however, use their few deer to better advantage and in a greater variety of ways than do the koraks. the latter seldom ride their deer or train them to carry packs, while the tunguses do both. the tunguses are of a mild, amiable disposition, easily governed and easily influenced, and seem to have made their way over so large an extent of country more through the sufferance of other tribes than through any aggressive power or disposition of their own. their original religion was shamanism, but they now profess almost universally the greco-russian faith and receive christian names. they acknowledge also their subjection to the authority of the tsar, and pay a regular annual tribute in furs. nearly all the siberian squirrelskins which reach the european market are bought by russian traders from wandering tunguses around the okhotsk sea. when i left the settlement of okhotsk, in the fall of , there were more than seventy thousand squirrelskins there in the hands of one russian merchant, and this was only a small part of the whole number caught by the tunguses during that summer. the lamutkis, who are first cousins to the tunguses, are fewer in number, but live in precisely the same way. i never met more than three or four bands during two years of almost constant travel in all parts of north-eastern siberia. the third great class of natives is the turkish. it comprises only the yakuts (yah-koots') who are settled chiefly along the lena river from its head-waters to the arctic ocean. their origin is unknown, but their language is said to resemble the turkish or modern osmanli so closely that a constantinopolitan of the lower class could converse fairly well with a yakut from the lena. i regret that i was not enough interested in comparative philology while in siberia to compile a vocabulary and grammar of the yakut language. i had excellent opportunities for doing so, but was not aware at that time of its close resemblance to the turkish, and looked upon it only as an unintelligible jargon which proved nothing but the active participation of the yakuts in the construction of the tower of babel. the bulk of this tribe is settled immediately around the asiatic pole of cold, and they can unquestionably endure a lower temperature with less suffering than any other natives in siberia. they are called by the russian explorer wrangell, "iron men," and well do they deserve the appellation. the thermometer at yakutsk, where several thousands of them are settled, _averages_ during the three winter months thirty-seven degrees below zero; but this intense cold does not seem to occasion them the slightest inconvenience. i have seen them in a temperature of - °, clad only in a shirt and one sheepskin coat, standing quietly in the street, talking and laughing as if it were a pleasant summer's day and they were enjoying the balmy air! they are the most thrifty, industrious natives in all northern asia. it is a proverbial saying in siberia, that if you take a yakut, strip him naked, and set him down in the middle of a great desolate steppe, and then return to that spot at the expiration of a year, you will find him living in a large, comfortable house, surrounded by barns and haystacks, owning herds of horses and cattle, and enjoying himself like a patriarch. they have all been more or less civilised by russian intercourse, and have adopted russian manners and the religion of the greek church. those settled along the lena cultivate rye and hay, keep herds of siberian horses and cattle, and live principally upon coarse black-bread, milk, butter, and horse-flesh. they are notorious gluttons. all are very skilful in the use of the "topor" or short russian axe, and with that instrument alone will go into a primeval forest, cut down trees, hew out timber and planks, and put up a comfortable house, complete even to panelled doors and window-sashes. they are the only natives in all north-eastern siberia who can do and are willing to do hard continuous work. [illustration: tunguse man and woman in best summer dress] these three great classes, viz., american indian natives, mongolian natives, and turko-yakut natives, comprise all the aboriginal inhabitants of north-eastern siberia except the kamchadals, the chuances, and the yukagirs. [footnote: there are a few eskimo-like natives living in permanent habitations near bering strait, but we did not see them.] these last have been so modified by russian influence, that it is hard to tell to which class they are most nearly allied, and the ethnologist will shortly be relieved from all further consideration of the problem by their inevitable extinction. the chuances and yukagirs have already become mere fragments of tribes, and their languages will perish with the present generation. the natives of whom we saw most at anadyrsk were, as i have already said, the chukchis. they frequently called upon us in large parties, and afforded us a great deal of amusement by their naïve and childlike comments upon americans, american instruments, and the curious american things generally which we produced for their inspection. i shall never forget the utter astonishment with which a band of them once looked through my field-glass. i had been trying it one clear cold day out-of-doors, and quite a crowd of chukchis and yukagirs had gathered around me to see what i was doing. observing their curiosity, i gave the glass to one of them and told him to look through it at another native who happened to be standing out on the plain, at a distance of perhaps a hundred yards. the expression of blank, half-incredulous surprise which gradually came over his features as he saw that native brought up, apparently within a few feet, was irresistibly comical. he did not dream for a moment that it was a mere optical illusion; he supposed that the wonderful instrument had actually transported the man physically from a distance of a hundred yards up to the place where he stood, and as he held the glass to his eyes with one hand, he stretched out the other to try to catch hold of him. finding to his great astonishment that he could not, he removed the glass, and saw the man standing quietly as before, a hundred yards away. the idea then seemed to occur to him that if he could only get this mysterious instrument to his eyes quickly enough, he would surprise the man in the very act of coming up--catch him perhaps about half-way--and find out how it was done. he accordingly raised the glass toward his face very slowly (watching the man meanwhile intently, to see that he took no unfair advantage and did not start too soon) until it was within an inch of his eyes, and then looked through it suddenly. but it was of no use. the man was right beside him again, but how he came there he didn't know. perhaps he could catch him if he made a sudden dash, and he tried it. this, however, was no more successful than his previous experiments, and the other natives looked at him in perfect amazement, wondering what he was trying to do with all these singular motions. he endeavoured to explain to them in great excitement that the man had been brought up apparently within arm's length, and yet he could not touch him. his comrades of course denied indignantly that the man had moved at all, and they engaged in a furious dispute as to whether this innocent and unconscious man had been anywhere near them or not. the native who maintained the affirmative appealed to me; but, convulsed with laughter, i could make no reply, and he started off at a run, to see the man and find out whether he had been brought up or not, and how it felt to be transported over a hundred yards of space in an instant of time! we who are familiar with these discoveries of science can hardly realise how they appear to a wholly uneducated savage; but if a superior race of beings should come from the planet mars and show us a mysterious instrument which enabled a man to be in two different places at the same time, we should understand the sensations of a chukchi in looking through a field-glass. soon after this i happened to be encamped one night on a great plain near anadyrsk, with a party of these same natives; and having received a note from dodd by a special messenger, i was engaged in reading it by the camp-fire. at several humorous passages i burst into a loud laugh; whereupon the natives nudged one another with their elbows and pointed significantly at me, as much as to say, "just look at the crazy american! what's the matter with him now?" finally one of them, an old grey-haired man, asked me what i was laughing at. "why," said i, "i am laughing at this," and pointed to the piece of paper. the old man thought about it for a moment, compared notes with the others, and they all thought about it; but no one seemed to succeed in getting any light as to the cause of my incomprehensible laughter. in a few moments the old man picked up a half-burned stick which was lying by the fire and said: "now suppose i should look at this stick for a minute and then laugh; what would you think?" "why," said i candidly, "i should think you were a fool." "well," he rejoined with grave satisfaction, "that's just exactly what i think of you!" he seemed to be very much pleased to find that our several opinions of such insane conduct so exactly coincided. looking at a stick and laughing, and looking at a piece of paper and laughing, seemed to him equally absurd. the languages of the chukchis and koraks have never-been reduced to writing; nor, so far as i know, do either of those tribes ever attempt to express ideas by signs or pictures. written thought is to many of them an impossible conception. it can be imagined, perhaps, with what wonder and baffled curiosity they pore over the illustrated newspapers which are occasionally given to them by the sailors of whaling vessels which visit the coast. some of the pictures they recognise as representations of things with which they are acquainted; but by far the greater number are as incomprehensible as the hieroglyphics of the aztecs. i remember that a korak once brought to me an old tattered fashion-plate from _frank leslie's illustrated newspaper_ containing three or four full-length figures of imaginary ladies, in the widest expansion of crinoline which fashion at that time prescribed. the poor korak said he had often wondered what those curious objects could be; and now, as i was an american, perhaps i could tell him. he evidently had not the most remote suspicion that they were intended to represent human beings. i told him that those curious objects, as he called them, were american women. he burst out into a "tyée-e-e-e!" of amazement, and asked with a wondering look, "are _all_ the women in your country as big as that at the bottom?" it was a severe reflection upon our ladies' dress, and i did not venture to tell him that the bigness was artificial, but merely replied sadly that they were. he looked curiously down at my feet and then at the picture, and then again at my feet, as if he were trying to trace some resemblance between the american man and the american woman; but he failed to do it, and wisely concluded that they must be of widely different species. [illustration: a tunguse summer tent] the pictures from these papers are sometimes put to curious uses. in the hut of a christianised but ignorant native near anadyrsk, i once saw an engraved portrait, cut from _harper's weekly_, of major general dix, framed, hung up in a corner of the room and worshipped as a russian saint! a gilded candle was burning before his smoky features, and every night and morning a dozen natives crossed themselves and said their prayers to a major-general in the united states army! it is the only instance, i believe, on record, where a major-general has been raised to the dignity of a saint without even being dead. st. george of england, we are told, was originally a corrupt army contractor of cappadocia, but he was not canonised until long after his death, when the memory of his contracts was no more. for major-general dix was reserved the peculiar privilege of being at the same time united states minister in paris and a saint in siberia! [illustration: woman's fur lined hood] chapter xxx an arctic aurora--orders from the major--adventures of macrae and arnold with the chukchis--return to gizhiga--review of winter's work among the few pleasures which reward the traveller for the hardships and dangers of life in the far north, there are none which are brighter or longer remembered than the magnificent auroral displays which occasionally illumine the darkness of the long polar night, and light up with a celestial glory the whole blue vault of heaven. no other natural phenomenon is so grand, so mysterious, so terrible in its unearthly splendour as this. the veil which conceals from mortal eyes the glory of the eternal throne seems drawn aside, and the awed beholder is lifted out of the atmosphere of his daily life into the immediate presence of god. on the th of february, while we were all yet living together at anadyrsk, there occurred one of the grandest displays of the arctic aurora which had been observed there for more than fifty years, and which exhibited such unusual and extraordinary brilliancy as to astonish and frighten even the natives. it was a cold, dark, but clear winter's night, and the sky in the earlier part of the evening showed no signs of the magnificent illumination which was already being prepared. a few streamers wavered now and then in the north, and a faint radiance like that of the rising moon shone above the dark belt of shrubbery which bordered the river; but these were common occurrences, and excited no notice or remark. late in the evening, just as we were preparing to go to bed, dodd happened to go outside for a moment to look after his dogs; but no sooner had he reached the outer door of the entry than he came rushing back, his face ablaze with excitement, shouting: "kennan! robinson! come out, quick!" with a vague impression that the village must be on fire, i sprang up, and without stopping to put on my furs, fan hastily out, followed closely by robinson, harder, and smith. as we emerged into the open air there burst suddenly upon our startled eyes the grandest exhibition of vivid dazzling light and colour of which the mind can conceive. the whole universe seemed to be on fire. a broad arch of brilliant prismatic colours spanned the heavens from east to west like a gigantic rainbow, with a long fringe of crimson and yellow streamers stretching up from its convex edge to the very zenith. at intervals of one or two seconds, wide, luminous bands, parallel with the arch, rose suddenly out of the northern horizon and swept with a swift, steady majesty across the whole heavens, like long breakers of phosphorescent light rolling in from some limitless ocean of space. every portion of the vast arch was momentarily wavering, trembling, and changing colour, and the brilliant streamers which fringed its edge swept back and forth in great curves, like the fiery sword of the angel at the gate of eden. in a moment the great auroral rainbow, with all its wavering streamers, began to move slowly up toward the zenith, and a second arch of equal brilliancy formed directly under it, shooting up a long serried row of slender, coloured lances toward the north star, like a battalion of the celestial host presenting arms to its commanding angel. every instant the display increased in unearthly grandeur. the luminous bands revolved swiftly, like the spokes of a great wheel of light, across the heavens; the streamers hurried back and forth with swift, tremulous motion from the ends of the arches to the centre; and now and then a great wave of crimson would surge up from the north and fairly deluge the whole sky with colour, tingeing the white snowy earth far and wide with its rosy reflection. but as the words of the prophecy, "and the heavens shall be turned to blood," formed themselves upon my lips, the crimson suddenly vanished, and a lightning flash of vivid orange startled us with its wide, all-pervading glare, which extended even to the southern horizon, as if the whole volume of the atmosphere had suddenly taken fire. i even held my breath a moment, as i listened for the tremendous crash of thunder which it seemed to me must follow this sudden burst of vivid light; but in heaven or earth there was not a sound to break the stillness of midnight save the hastily muttered prayers of the frightened native at my side, as he crossed himself and kneeled down before the visible majesty of god. i could not imagine any possible addition which even almighty power could make to the grandeur of the aurora as it now appeared. the rapid alternations of crimson, blue, green, and yellow in the sky were reflected so vividly from the white surface of the snow, that the whole world seemed now steeped in blood, and then quivering in an atmosphere of pale, ghastly green, through which shone the unspeakable glories of the two mighty crimson and yellow arches. but the end was not yet. as we watched with upturned faces the swift ebb and flow of these great celestial tides of coloured light, the last seal of the glorious revelation was suddenly broken, and both arches were simultaneously shivered into a thousand parallel perpendicular bars, every one of which displayed in regular order, from top to bottom, the primary colours of the solar spectrum. from horizon to horizon there now stretched two vast curving bridges of coloured bars, across which we almost expected to see, passing and repassing, the bright inhabitants of another world. amid cries of astonishment and exclamations of "god have mercy!" from the startled natives, these innumerable bars began to move back and forth, with a swift dancing motion, along the whole extent of both arches, passing one another from side to side with such bewildering rapidity that the eye was lost in the attempt to follow them. the whole concave of heaven seemed transformed into one great revolving kaleidoscope of shattered rainbows. never had i even dreamed of such an aurora as _this_, and i am not ashamed to confess that its magnificence for a moment overawed and almost frightened me. the whole sky, from zenith to horizon, was "one molten mantling sea of colour and fire;--crimson and purple, and scarlet and green, and colours for which there are no words in language and no ideas in the mind--things which can only be conceived while they are visible." the "signs and portents" in the heavens were grand enough to herald the destruction of a world; flashes of rich quivering colour, covering half the sky for an instant and then vanishing like summer lightning; brilliant green streamers shooting swiftly but silently up across the zenith; thousands of variegated bars sweeping past one another in two magnificent arches, and great luminous waves rolling in from the inter-planetary spaces and breaking in long lines of radiant glory upon the shallow atmosphere of a darkened world. with the separation of the two arches into bars the aurora reached its utmost magnificence, and from that time its supernatural beauty slowly but steadily faded. the first arch broke up, and soon after it the second; the flashes of colour appeared less and less frequently; the luminous bands ceased to revolve across the zenith; and in an hour nothing remained in the dark starry heavens to remind us of the aurora, except a few faint magellan clouds of luminous vapour. the month of february wore slowly away, and march found us still living in anadyrsk, without any news from the major, or from the missing men, arnold and macrae. fifty-seven days had now elapsed since they left their camp on the lower anadyr, and we began to fear that they would never again be seen. whether they had starved, or frozen to death on some great desolate plain south of bering strait, or been murdered by the chukchis, we could not conjecture, but their long absence was a proof that they had met with some misfortune. i was not at all satisfied with the route over which we had passed from shestakóva to anadyrsk, on account of its barrenness, and the impossibility of transporting heavy telegraph poles over its great snowy steppes from the few wooded rivers by which it was traversed. i accordingly started from anadyrsk with five dog-sledges on march th, to try to find a better route between the anadyr and the head-waters of the penzhina river. three days after our departure we met, on the road to penzhina, a special messenger from gizhiga, bringing a letter from the major dated okhotsk, january th. enclosed were letters from colonel bulkley, announcing the landing of the anadyr river party under lieutenant macrae, and a map showing the location of their camp. the major wrote as follows: "in case--what god forbid--macrae and party have not arrived at anadyrsk, you will immediately, upon the receipt of this letter, do your utmost to deliver them from their too long winter quarters at the mouth of the anadyr, where they were landed in september. i was told that macrae would be landed _only in case of perfect certainty_ to reach anadyrsk in boats, and i confess i don't like such surprises as colonel bulkley has made me now. for the present our duty consists in doing our utmost to extricate them from where they are, and you must get every dog-sledge you can, stuff them with dog-food and provisions, and go at once in search of macrae's camp." these directions i had already anticipated and carried out, and macrae's party, or at least all i could find of it, was now living in anadyrsk. when the major wrote this letter, however, he did not suppose that dodd and i would hear of the landing of the party through the wandering chukchis, or that we would think of going in search of them without orders. he knew that he had told us particularly not to attempt to explore the anadyr river until another season, and did not expect that we would go beyond the last settlement. i wrote a hasty note to dodd upon the icy runner of my overturned sledge--freezing two fingers in the operation--and sent the courier on to anadyrsk with the letters. the mail also included letters to me from captain scammon, commander of the company's fleet, and one from my friend w.h. dall, who had returned with the vessels to san francisco, and had written me while stopping a few days at petropavlovsk. he begged me, by all the sacred interests of science, not to let a single bug or living thing of any kind escape my vigilant eye; but, as i read his letter that night by the camp-fire, i thought with a smile that snowy siberian steppes and temperatures of ° and ° below zero were not very favourable to the growth and dispersion of bugs, nor to efforts for their capture and preservation. i will not go into a detailed account of the explorations which lieutenant robinson and i made in search of a more practicable route for our line between the penzhina river and anadyrsk. we found that the river system of the anadyrsk was divided from that of the penzhina only by a low mountain ridge, which could be easily passed, and that, by following up certain tributaries of the latter, crossing the watershed, and descending one of the branches of the anadyr, we should have almost unbroken water communication between the okhotsk sea and bering strait. along these rivers timber was generally abundant, and where there was none, poles could be distributed easily in rafts. the route thus indicated was everything which could be desired; and, much gratified by the results of our labours, we returned on march th to anadyrsk. we were overjoyed to learn from the first man who met us after we entered the settlement that macrae and arnold had arrived, and in five minutes we were shaking them by the hand, congratulating them, upon their safe arrival, and overwhelming them with questions as to their travels and adventures, and the reasons of their long absence. for sixty-four days they had been living with the wandering chukchis, and making their way slowly and by a circuitous route towards anadyrsk. they had generally been well treated, but the band with which they travelled had been in no hurry to reach the settlement, and had been carrying them at the rate of ten or twelve miles a day all over the great desolate steppes which lie south of the anadyr river. they had experienced great hardships; had lived upon reindeer's entrails and tallow for weeks at a time; had been alive almost constantly with vermin; had spent the greater part of two long months in smoky chukchi _pologs_, and had despaired, sometimes, of ever reaching a russian settlement or seeing again a civilised human being; but hope and courage had sustained them through it all, and they had finally arrived at anadyrsk safe and well. the sum-total of their baggage when they drove into the settlement was a quart bottle of whisky wrapped up in an american flag! as soon as we were all together, we raised the flag on a pole over our little log house, made a whisky punch out of the liquor which had traversed half north-eastern siberia, and drank it in honour of the men who had lived sixty-four days with the wandering chukchis, and carried the stars and stripes through the wildest, least known region on the face of the globe. having now accomplished all that could be done in the way of exploration, we began making preparations for a return to gizhiga. the major had directed me to meet him there with macrae, arnold, robinson, and dodd, as soon as the first of april, and the month of march was now rapidly drawing to a close. [illustration: a chukchi rug of reindeer skin] on the th we packed up our stores, and bidding good-bye to the kind-hearted, hospitable people of anadyrsk, we set out with a long train of sledges for the coast of the okhotsk sea. our journey was monotonous and uneventful, and on the second of april, late at night, we left behind us the white desolate steppe of the paren, and drew near the little flat-topped _yurt_ on the malmofka, which was only twenty-five versts from gizhiga. here we met fresh men, dogs, and sledges, sent out to meet us by the major, and, abandoning our loaded sledges and tired dogs, we took seats upon the light _narts_ of the gizhiga cossacks, and dashed away by the light of a brilliant aurora toward the settlement. about one o'clock we heard the distant barking of dogs, and in a few moments we rushed furiously into the silent village, and stopped before the house of the russian merchant vorrebeof (vor'-re-be-off') where we had lived the previous fall, and where we expected to find the major. i sprang from my sledge, and groping my way through the entry into a warm dark room i shouted "fstavaitia!" to arouse the sleeping inmates. suddenly some one rose up from the floor at my feet, and, grasping me by the arm, exclaimed in a strangely familiar voice, "kennan, is that you?" startled and bewildered with half-incredulous recognition, i could only reply, "bush, is that you?" and, when a sleepy boy came in with a light, he was astonished to find a man dressed in heavy frosty furs embracing another who was clad only in a linen shirt and drawers. there was a joyful time in that log house when the major, bush, macrae, arnold, robinson, dodd, and i gathered around a steaming samovar or tea-urn which stood on a pine table in the centre of the room, and discussed the adventures, haps, and mishaps of our first arctic winter. some of us had come from the extremity of kamchatka, some from the frontier of china, and some from bering strait, and we all met that night in gizhiga, and congratulated ourselves and one another upon the successful exploration of the whole route of the proposed russian-american telegraph line from anadyr bay to the amur river. the different members of the party there assembled had, in seven months, travelled in the aggregate almost ten thousand miles. the results of our winter's work were briefly as follows: bush and mahood, after leaving the major and me at petropavlovsk, had gone on to the russian settlement of nikolaievsk, at the mouth of the amur river, and had entered promptly upon the exploration of the west coast of the okhotsk sea. they had travelled with the wandering tunguses through the densely timbered region between nikolaievsk and aian, ridden on the backs of reindeer over the rugged mountains of the stanavoi range south of okhotsk, and had finally met the major at the latter place on the d. of february. the major, alone, had explored the whole north coast of the okhotsk sea and had made a visit to the russian city of yakutsk, six hundred versts west of okhotsk, in quest of labourers and horses. he had ascertained the possibility of hiring a thousand yakut labourers in the settlements along the lena river, at the rate of sixty dollars a year for each man, and of purchasing there as many siberian horses as we should require at very reasonable prices. he had located a route for the line from gizhiga to okhotsk, and had superintended generally the whole work of exploration. macrae and arnold had explored nearly all the region lying south of the anadyr and along the lower myan, and had gained much valuable information concerning the little-known tribe of wandering chukchis. dodd, robinson, and i had explored two routes from gizhiga to anadyrsk, and had found a chain of wooded rivers connecting the okhotsk sea with the pacific ocean near bering strait. the natives we had everywhere found to be peaceable and well disposed, and many of them along the route of the line were already engaged in cutting poles. the country, although by no means favourable to the construction of a telegraph line, presented no obstacles which energy and perseverance could not overcome; and, as we reviewed our winter's work, we felt satisfied that the enterprise in which we were engaged, if not altogether an easy one, held out at least a fair prospect of success. chapter xxxi last work of the winter--birds and flowers of spring continuous daylight--social life in gizhiga--a curious sickness--summer days and nights--news from america the months of april and may, owing to the great length of the days and the comparative mildness of the weather, are the most favourable months in north-eastern siberia for outdoor work and travel; and as the company's vessels could not be expected to arrive at gizhiga before the early part of june, major abaza determined to make the most of the intervening time. as soon as he had recovered a little, therefore, from the fatigue of his journey, he started with bush, macrae, and the russian governor, for anadyrsk, intending to engage there fifty or sixty native labourers and begin at once the construction of station-houses and the cutting and distribution of poles along the anadyr river. my own efforts to that end, owing to the laziness of the anadyrsk people, had been unsuccessful; but it was hoped that through the influence and cooperation of the civil authority something might perhaps be done. major abaza returned by the very last winter road in may. his expedition had been entirely successful; mr. bush had been put in command of the northern district from penzhina to bering strait, and he, together with macrae, harder, and smith, had been left at anadyrsk for the summer. as soon as the anadyr river should open, this party was directed to descend it in canoes to its mouth, and there await the arrival of one of the company's vessels from san francisco, with reinforcements and supplies. in the meantime fifty native labourers from anadyrsk, osolkin, and pokorukof, had been hired and placed at their disposal, and it was hoped that by the time the ice should be out of the river they would have six or eight station-houses prepared, and several thousand poles cut, ready for distribution in rafts between the settlements of anadyrsk and the pacific coast. having thus accomplished all that it was possible to accomplish with the limited means and force at his disposal, major abaza returned to gizhiga, to await the arrival of the promised vessels from america with men, material, and supplies, for the prosecution of the work. the season for dog-sledge travel was now over; and as the country afforded no other means of interior transportation, we could not expect to do any more work, or have any further communication with our outlying parties at anadyrsk and okhotsk until the arrival of our vessels. we therefore rented for ourselves a little log house overlooking the valley, of the gizhiga river, furnished it as comfortably as possible with a few plain wooden chairs and tables, hung up our maps and charts on the rough log-walls, displayed our small library of two books--shakespeare and the new testament--as advantageously as possible in one corner, and prepared for at least a month of luxurious idleness. it was now june. the snow was rapidly disappearing under the influence of the warm long-continued sunshine; the ice in the river showed unmistakable signs of breaking up; patches of bare ground appeared here and there along the sunny hillsides, and everything foretold the speedy approach of the short but hot arctic summer. winter in most parts of north-eastern siberia begins to break up in may, and summer advances with rapid strides upon its retreating footsteps, covering instantly with grass and flowers the ground that it reclaims from the melting snow-drifts of winter. hardly is the snow off the ground before the delicate wax-like petals of the blueberry and star-flower, and the great snowy clusters of labrador tea begin to whiten the mossy plains; the birches, willows, and alders burst suddenly into leaf, the river banks grow green with a soft carpet of grass, and the warm still air is filled all day with the trumpet-like cries of wild swans and geese, as they come in great triangular flocks from the sea and pass high overhead toward the far north. in three weeks after the disappearance of the last snow all nature has put on the garments of midsummer and rejoices in almost perpetual sunshine. there is no long wet, lingering spring, no gradual unfolding of buds and leaves one by one as with us. the vegetation, which has been held in icy fetters for eight long months, bursts suddenly its bonds, and with one great irresistible sweep takes the world by storm. there is no longer any night; one day blends almost imperceptibly into another, with only a short interval of twilight, which has all the coolness and repose of night without its darkness. you may sit by your open window and read until twelve o'clock, inhaling the fragrance of flowers which is brought to you on the cool night wind, listening to the murmur and plash of the river in the valley below, and tracing the progress of the hidden sun by the flood of rosy light which streams up in the north from behind the purple mountains. it is broad daylight, and yet all nature is asleep, and a strange mysterious stillness, like that of a solar eclipse, pervades heaven and earth. you can even hear the faint roar of the surf on the rocky coast ten miles away. now and then a song-sparrow hidden in the alder thicket by the river bank dreams that it is morning and breaks out into a quick unconscious trill of melody; but as he wakes he stops himself suddenly and utters a few "peeps" of perplexity, as if not quite sure whether it be morning, or only last evening, and whether he ought to sing or go to sleep again. he finally seems to decide upon the latter course, and all becomes silent once more save the murmur of the river over its rocky bed and the faint roar of the distant sea. soon after one o'clock a glittering segment of the sun appears between the cloud-like peaks of the distant mountains, a sudden flash of golden light illumines the green dewy landscape, the little sparrow in the alder thicket triumphantly takes up again his unfinished song, the ducks, geese, and aquatic birds renew their harsh discordant cries from the marshy flats along the river, and all animated nature wakes suddenly to a consciousness of daylight as if it were a new thing. there has been no night--but it is another day. the traveller who has never before experienced an arctic summer, and who has been accustomed to think of siberia as a land of eternal snow and ice, cannot help being astonished at the sudden and wonderful development of animal and vegetable life throughout that country in the month of june, and the rapidity of the transition from winter to summer in the course of a few short weeks. in the early part of june it is frequently possible to travel in the vicinity of gizhiga upon dog-sledges, while by the last of the same month the trees are all in full leaf, primroses, cowslips, buttercups, valerian, cinquefoil, and labrador tea, blossom everywhere upon the higher plains and river banks, and the thermometer at noon frequently reaches ° fahr. in the shade. there is no spring, in the usual acceptation of the word, at all. the disappearance of snow and the appearance of vegetation are almost simultaneous; and although the _tundras_ or moss steppes, continue for some time to hold water like a saturated sponge, they are covered with flowers and blossoming blueberry bushes, and show no traces of the long, cold winter which has so recently ended. in less than a month after the disappearance of snow in , i collected from one high plain about five acres in extent, near the mouth of the gizhiga river, more than sixty species of flowers. animal life of all kinds is equally prompt in making its appearance. long before the ice is out of the gulfs and bays along the coast, migratory birds begin to come in from the sea in immense numbers. innumerable species of ducks, geese, and swans--many of them unknown to the american ornithologist--swarm about every little pool of water in the valleys and upon the lower plains; gulls, fish-hawks, and eagles, keep up a continual screaming about the mouths of the numerous rivers; and the rocky precipitous coast of the sea is literally alive with countless millions of red-beaked puffin or sea-parrots, which build their nests in the crevices and upon the ledges of the most inaccessible cliffs, and at the report of a pistol fly in clouds which fairly darken the air. besides these predatory and aquatic birds, there are many others which are not so gregarious in their habits, and which, consequently, attract less notice. among these are the common barn and chimney swallows, crows, ravens, magpies, thrushes, plover, ptarmigan, and a kind of grouse known to the russians as "teteref." only one singing-bird, as far as i know, is to be found in the country, and that is a species of small ground-sparrow which frequents the drier and more grassy plains in the vicinity of the russian settlements. the village of gizhiga, where we had temporarily established our headquarters, was a small settlement of perhaps fifty or sixty plain log houses, situated upon the left bank of the gizhiga river, eight or ten miles from the gulf. it was at that time one of the most important and flourishing settlements upon the coast of the okhotsk sea, and controlled all the trade of north-eastern siberia as far north at the anadyr and as far west as the village of okhotsk. it was the residence of a local governor, the headquarters of four or five russian merchants, and was visited annually by a government supply steamer, and several trading vessels belonging to wealthy american houses. its population consisted principally of siberian cossacks and the descendants of compulsory emigrants from russia proper, who had received their freedom as compensation for forcible expatriation. like all other _settled_ inhabitants of siberia and kamchatka, they depended for their subsistence principally upon fish; but as the country abounded in game, and the climate and soil in the valley of the gizhiga river permitted the cultivation of the hardier kinds of garden vegetables, their condition was undoubtedly much better than it would have been in russia proper. they were perfectly free, could dispose of their time and services as they chose, and by hiring themselves and their dog-sledges to russian traders in the winter, they earned money enough to keep themselves supplied with the simpler luxuries, such as tea, sugar, and tobacco, throughout the year. like all the inhabitants of siberia, and indeed like all russians, they were extremely hospitable, good-natured, and obliging, and they contributed not a little to our comfort and amusement during the long months which we were obliged to spend in their far-away isolated settlement. the presence of americans in a village so little frequented by strangers as gizhiga had a very enlivening influence upon society, and as soon as the inhabitants ascertained by experiment that these distinguished sojourners did not consider it beneath their dignity to associate with the _prostoi narod_, or common people, they overwhelmed us with invitations to tea-parties and evening dances. anxious to see more of the life of the people, and glad to do anything which would diversify our monotonous existence, we made it a point to accept every such invitation which we received, and many were the dances which arnold and i attended during the absence of the major and the russian governor at anadyrsk. we had no occasion to ask our cossack yagór when there was to be another dance. the question was rather, "where is the dance to be tonight?" because we knew to a certainty that there would be one somewhere, and wished only to know whether the house in which it was to be held had a ceiling high enough to insure the safety of our heads. it would seem like a preposterous idea to invite people to dance the russian jig in a room which was too low to permit a man of average stature to stand upright; but it did not seem at all so to these enthusiastic pleasure-seekers in gizhiga, and night after night they would go hopping around a seven-by-nine room to the music of a crazy fiddle and a two-stringed guitar, stepping on one another's toes and bumping their heads against the ceiling with the most cheerful equanimity imaginable. at these dancing parties the americans always received a hearty welcome, and were fed with berries, black-bread, and tea, until they could eat and dance no more. occasionally, however, siberian hospitality took a form which, to say the least, was not altogether pleasant. for instance, dodd and i were invited one evening to some kind of an entertainment at the house of one of the cossacks, and, as was customary in such cases, our host set before us a plain lunch of black-bread, salt, raw frozen fish, and a small pepper-sauce bottle about half full of some liquid which he declared to be vodka. knowing that there was no liquor in the settlement except what we had, dodd inquired where he had obtained it. he replied with evident embarrassment that it was some which he had bought from a trading vessel the previous fall, and which he had reserved for cases of emergency! i didn't believe that there was a cossack in all north-eastern siberia who was capable of _reserving_ a bottle of liquor for any such length of time, and in view of his evident uneasiness we thought best to decline to partake of the liquid refreshments and to ask no further questions. it might be vodka, but it was not free from suspicion. upon our return home i called our boy and inquired if he knew anything about the cossack's liquor--how he obtained it, and where it came from at that season of the year, when none of the russian merchants had any for sale. the boy hesitated a moment, but upon being questioned closely he explained the mystery. it appeared that the liquor was ours. whenever any of the inhabitants of the village came to call upon us, as they frequently did, especially upon holidays, it was customary to give each one of them a drink. taking advantage of this custom, our friend the cossack used to provide himself with a small bottle, hang it about his neck with a string, conceal it under his fur coat, and present himself at our house every now and then for the ostensible purpose of congratulating us upon some russian holiday. of course we were expected to reward this disinterested sociability with a drink. the cossack would swallow all he could of the fiery stuff, and then holding as much as possible in his mouth he would make a terrible grimace, cover his face with one hand as if the liquor were very strong, and start hurriedly for the kitchen to get some water. as soon as he was secure from observation he would take out his bottle, deposit in it the last mouthful of liquor which he had _not_ swallowed, and return in a few-moments to thank us for our hospitality--and our vodka. this manoeuvre he had been practising at our expense for an unknown length of time, and had finally accumulated nearly a pint. he then had the unblushing audacity to set this half-swallowed vodka before us in an old pepper-sauce bottle, and pretend that it was some that he had reserved since the previous fall for cases of emergency! could human impudence go farther? i will relate one other incident which took place during the first month of our residence at gizhiga, and which illustrates another phase of the popular character, viz. extreme superstition. as i was sitting in the house one morning, drinking tea, i was interrupted by the sudden entrance of a russian cossack named kolmagórof. he seemed to be unusually sober and anxious about something, and as soon as he had bowed and bade me good-morning, he turned to our cossack, viushin, and began in a low voice to relate to him something which had just occurred, and which seemed to be of great interest to them both. owing to my imperfect knowledge of the language, and the low tone in which the conversation was carried on, i failed to catch its purport; but it closed with an earnest request from kolmagórof that viushin should give him some article of clothing, which i understood to be a scarf or tippet. viushin immediately went to a little closet in one corner of the room, where he was in the habit of storing his personal effects, dragged out a large sealskin bag, and began searching in it for the desired article. after pulling out three or four pair of fur boots, a lump of tallow, some dogskin stockings, a hatchet, and a bundle of squirrelskins, he finally produced and held up in triumph one-half of an old, dirty, moth-eaten woollen tippet, and handing it to kolmagórof, he resumed his search for the missing piece. this also he presently found, in a worse state of preservation, if possible, than the other. they looked as if they had been discovered in the bag of some poor rag-picker who had fished them up out of a gutter in the five points. kolmagórof tied the two pieces together, wrapped them up carefully in an old newspaper, thanked viushin for his trouble, and, with an air of great relief, bowed again to me and went out. wondering what use he could make of such a worn, dirty, tattered article of clothing as that which he had received, i applied to viushin for a solution of the mystery. "what did he want that tippet for?" i inquired; "it isn't good for anything." "i know," replied viushin, "it is a miserable old thing; but there is no other in the village, and his daughter has got the 'anadyrski bol'" (anadyrsk sickness). "anadyrski bol!" i repeated in astonishment, never having heard of the disease in question; "what has the 'anadyrski bol' got to do with an old tippet?" "why, you see, his daughter has asked for a tippet, and as she has the anadyrsk sickness, they must get one for her. it don't make any difference about its being old." this struck me as being a very singular explanation of a very curious performance, and i proceeded to question viushin more closely as to the nature of this strange disease, and the manner in which an old moth-eaten tippet could afford relief. the information which i gathered was briefly as follows: the "anadyrski bol," so called from its having originated at anadyrsk, was a peculiar form of disease, resembling very much the modern spiritual "trance," which had long prevailed in north-eastern siberia, and which defied all ordinary remedies and all usual methods of treatment. the persons attacked by it, who were generally women, became unconscious of all surrounding things, acquired suddenly an ability to speak languages which they had never heard, particularly the yakut language, and were gifted temporarily with a sort of second sight or clairvoyance which enabled them to describe accurately objects that they could not see and never had seen. while in this state they would frequently ask for some particular thing, whose appearance and exact location they would describe, and unless it were brought to them they would apparently go into convulsions, sing in the yakut language, utter strange cries, and behave generally as if they were insane. nothing could quiet them until the article for which they had asked was produced. thus kolmagórof's daughter had imperatively demanded a woollen tippet, and as the poor cossack had nothing of the sort in the house, he had started out through the village to find one. this was all the information that viushin could give me. he had never seen one of these possessed persons himself, and had only heard of the disease from others; but he said that paderin, the chief of the gizhiga cossacks, could undoubtedly tell me all about it, as his daughter had been similarly afflicted. surprised to find among the ignorant peasantry of north-eastern siberia a disease whose symptoms resembled so closely the phenomena of modern spiritualism, i determined to investigate the subject as far as possible, and as soon as the major came in, i persuaded him to send for paderin. the chief of the cossacks--a simple, honest old fellow, whom it was impossible to suspect of intentional deception--confirmed all that viushin had told me, and gave us many additional particulars. he said that he had frequently heard his daughter talk the yakut language while in one of these trances, and had even known her to relate events which were occurring at a distance of several hundred miles. the major inquired how he knew that it was the yakut language which his daughter spoke. he said he did not know certainly that it was; but it was not russian, nor korak, nor any other native language with which he was familiar, and it sounded very much like yakut. i inquired what was done in case the sick person demanded some article which it was impossible to obtain. paderin replied that he had never heard of such an instance; if the article asked for were an uncommon one, the girl always stated where it was to be found--frequently describing with the greatest minuteness things which, so far as he knew, she had never seen. on one occasion, he said his daughter asked for a particular spotted dog which he was accustomed to drive in his team. the dog was brought into the room, and the girl at once became quiet; but from that time the dog itself became so wild and restless as to be almost unmanageable, and he was finally obliged to kill him. "and do you believe in all this stuff?" broke in the major impatiently, as paderin hesitated for a moment. "i believe in god and in our saviour jesus christ," replied the cossack, as he crossed himself devoutly. "that's all right, and so you ought," rejoined the major; "but that has nothing whatever to do with the 'anadyrski bol.' do you really believe that these women talk in the yakut language, which they have never heard, and describe things which they have never seen?" [illustration: tunguses on reindeer-back moving their encampment photograph in the american museum of natural history] paderin shrugged his shoulders expressively and said that he believed what he saw. he then proceeded to relate to us further and still more incredible particulars as to the symptoms of the disease, and the mysterious powers which it developed in the persons attacked, illustrating his statements by reference to the case of his own daughter. he was evidently a firm believer in the reality of the sickness, but would not say to what agency he ascribed the phenomena of second sight and the ability to speak strange languages, which were its most remarkable symptoms. during the day we happened to call upon the ispravnik or russian governor, and in course of conversation mentioned the "anadyrski bol," and related some of the stories which we had heard from paderin. the ispravnik--skeptical upon all subjects, and especially upon this--said that he had often heard of the disease, and that his wife was a firm believer in it, but that in his opinion it was a humbug, which deserved no other treatment than severe corporal punishment. the russian peasantry, he said, were very superstitious and would believe almost anything, and the "anadyrski bol" was partly a delusion and partly an imposition practised by the women upon their male relatives to further some selfish purpose. a woman who wanted a new bonnet, and who could not obtain it by the ordinary method of teasing, found it very convenient as a _dernier ressort_ to fall into a trance state and demand a bonnet as a physiological necessity. if the husband still remained obdurate, a few well-executed convulsions and a song or two in the so-called yakut language were generally sufficient to bring him to terms. he then related an instance of a russian merchant whose wife was attacked by the "anadyrski bol," and who actually made a winter journey from gizhiga to yamsk--a distance of versts--to procure a silk dress for which she had asked and which could not be elsewhere obtained! of course the women do not always ask for articles which they might be supposed to want in a state of health. if they did, it would soon arouse the suspicions of their deluded husbands, fathers, and brothers, and lead to inconvenient inquiries, if not to still more unpleasant experiment, upon the character of the mysterious disease. to avoid this, and to blind the men to the real nature of the deception, the women frequently ask for dogs, sledges, axes, and other similar articles of which they can make no possible use, and thus persuade their credulous male relatives that their demands are governed only by diseased caprice and have in view no definite object. such was the rationalistic explanation which the ispravnik gave of the curious delusion known as the "anadyrski bol"; and although it argued more subtlety on the part of the women and more credulity on the part of the men than i had supposed either sex to be capable of, i could not but admit that the explanation was a plausible one, and accounted satisfactorily for most of the phenomena. in view of this remarkable piece of feminine strategy, our strong-minded women in america must admit that their siberian sisters show greater ingenuity in obtaining their rights and throwing dust in the eyes of their lords and masters than has yet been exhibited by all the women's rights associations in christendom. to invent an imaginary disease with such peculiar symptoms, cause it to prevail as an epidemic throughout a whole country, and use it as a lever to open the masculine pocketbooks and supply feminine wants, is the greatest triumph which woman's craft has ever achieved over man's stupidity. the effect of the ispravnik's revelation upon dodd was very singular. he declared that he felt the premonitory symptoms of the "anadyrski bol" coming on, and was sure that he was destined to be a victim to the insidious disease. he therefore requested the major not to be surprised if he should come home some day and find him in strong convulsions, singing "yankee doodle" in the yakut language, and demanding his back pay! the major assured him that, in a case of such desperate emergency, he should be compelled to apply the ispravnik's remedy, viz., twenty lashes on the bare back, and advised him to postpone his convulsions until the exchequer of the siberian division should be in a condition to meet his demands. our life at gizhiga during the early part of june was a very decided improvement upon the experience of the previous six months. the weather was generally warm and pleasant, the hills and valleys were green with luxuriant vegetation, daylight had become perpetual, and we had nothing to do but ramble about the country in pursuit of game, row down to the mouth of the river occasionally to look for vessels, and plan all sorts of amusements to pass away the time. the nights were the most glorious parts of the days, but the perpetual light seemed even more strange to us at first than the almost perpetual darkness of winter. we could never decide to our own satisfaction when one day ended and another began, or when it was time to go to bed. it seemed ridiculous to make any preparations for retiring before the sun had set; and yet, if we did not, it was sure to rise again before we could possibly get to sleep, and then it seemed just as preposterous to lie in bed as it did in the first place. we finally compromised the matter by putting tight wooden shutters over all our windows, and then, by lighting candles inside, succeeded in persuading our unbelieving senses that it was night, although the sun outside was shining with noonday brilliancy. when we awoke, however, another difficulty presented itself. did we go to bed today? or was it yesterday? and what time is it now? today, yesterday, and to-morrow were all mixed up, and we found it almost impossible to distinguish one from the other. i caught myself repeatedly making two entries in my journal in the course of twenty-four hours, with the mistaken impression that two days had passed. as soon as the ice was fairly out of gizhiginsk gulf, so that vessels might be expected to enter, major abaza caused a number of cossacks to be stationed at the mouth of the river, with orders to watch night and day for sails and warn us at once if any appeared. on the th of june the trading brig _hallie jackson_, belonging to w.h. bordman, of boston, entered the gulf, and, as soon as the tide permitted, ran into the mouth of the river to discharge her cargo. this vessel brought us the first news from the great outside world which we had received in more than eleven months, and her arrival was hailed with the greatest enthusiasm by both russians and americans. half the population of the village came hurrying down to the mouth of the river as soon as it became known that a ship had arrived and the landing-place for several days was a scene of unwonted activity and excitement. the _jackson_ could give us no information with regard to the vessels of our company, except that when she sailed from san francisco in march they were being rapidly loaded and fitted for sea. she brought, however, all the stores which we had left at petropavlovsk the previous fall, as well as a large cargo of tea, sugar, tobacco, and sundries for the siberian trade. we had found by our winter's experience that money could not be used to advantage in payment for native labour, except in the settlements of okhotsk, gizhiga, and anadyrsk; and that tea, sugar, and tobacco were in every way preferable, on account of the universal consumption of those articles throughout the country and the high price which they commanded during the winter months. a labourer or teamster, who would demand _twenty_ roubles _in money_ for a month's work, was entirely satisfied if we gave him eight pounds of tea and ten pounds of sugar in its stead; and as the latter cost us only _ten_ roubles, we made a saving of one-half in all our expenditures. in view of this fact, major abaza determined to use as little money as possible, and pay for labour in merchandise at current rates. he accordingly purchased from the _jackson_ , lbs. of tea and , or , lbs. of white loaf-sugar, which he stored away in the government magazines, to be used during the coming winter instead of money. the _jackson_ discharged all the cargo that she intended to leave at gizhiga, and as soon as the tide was sufficiently high to enable her to cross the bar at the mouth of the river, she sailed for petropavlovsk and left us again alone. chapter xxxii dull life--arctic mosquitoes--waiting for supplies--ships signalled--bark "clara bell"--russian corvette "varag" after the departure of the _jackson_, we began to look forward with eager anticipation to the arrival of our own vessels and the termination of our long imprisonment at gizhiga. eight months of nomadic camp life had given us a taste for adventure and excitement which nothing but constant travel could gratify, and as soon as the first novelty of idleness wore off we began to tire of our compulsory inactivity, and became impatient for work. we had exhausted all the amusements of gizhiga, read all the newspapers which had been brought by the _jackson_, discussed their contents to the minutest details, explored every foot of ground in the vicinity of the settlement, and tried everything which our ingenuity could devise to pass away the time, but all to no avail. the days seemed interminable, the long-expected ships did not come, and the mosquitoes and gnats made our life a burden. about the tenth of july, the mosquito--that curse of the northern summer--rises out of the damp moss of the lower plains, and winds his shrill horn to apprise all animated nature of his triumphant resurrection and his willingness to furnish musical entertainment to man and beast upon extremely reasonable terms. in three or four days, if the weather be still and warm, the whole atmosphere will be literally filled with clouds of mosquitoes and from that time until the th of august they persecute every living thing with a bloodthirsty eagerness which knows no rest and feels no pity. escape is impossible and defence useless; they follow their unhappy victims everywhere, and their untiring perseverance overcomes every obstacle which human ingenuity can throw in their way. smoke of any ordinary density they treat with contemptuous indifference; mosquito-bars they either evade or carry by assault, and only by burying himself alive can man hope to finally escape their relentless persecution. in vain we wore gauze veils over our heads and concealed ourselves under calico _pologs_. the multitude of our tiny assailants was so great that some of them sooner or later were sure to find an unguarded opening, and just when we thought ourselves most secure we were suddenly surprised and driven out of our shelter by a fresh and unexpected attack. mosquitoes, i know, do not enter into the popular conception of siberia; but never in any tropical country have i seen them in such immense numbers as in north-eastern siberia during the month of july. they make the great moss tundras in some places utterly uninhabitable, and force even the reindeer to seek the shelter and the cooler atmosphere of the mountains. in the russian settlements they torment dogs and cattle until the latter run furiously about in a perfect frenzy of pain, and fight desperately for a place to stand in the smoke of a fire. as far north as the settlement of kolyma, on the coast of the arctic ocean, the natives are compelled, in still, warm weather, to surround their houses with a circle of smudges, to protect themselves and their domestic animals from the ceaseless persecution of mosquitoes. early in july all the inhabitants of gizhiga, with the exception of the governor and a few russian merchants, closed their winter-houses, and removed to their "letovies" or summer fishing-stations along the banks of the river, to await the arrival of the salmon. finding the deserted village rather dull, dodd, robinson, arnold, and i removed to the mouth of the river, and took up our quarters once more in the empty government storehouse which we had occupied during the stay of the _hallie jackson_. i shall not dwell long upon the monotonous discomfort of the life which we led for the next month. it may all be comprised in four words--inactivity, disappointment, mosquitoes, and misery. looking for vessels was our only duty, fighting mosquitoes our only diversion; and as the former never appeared and the latter never disappeared, both occupations were equally unprofitable and unsatisfactory. twenty times a day we put on our gauze veils, tied our clothing down at the wrists and ankles, and climbed laboriously to the summit of a high bluff to look for vessels; but twenty times a day we returned disappointed to our bare, cheerless rooms, and vented our indignation indiscriminately upon the country, the company, the ships, and the mosquitoes. we could not help feeling as if we had dropped out of the great current of human affairs, as if our places in the distant busy world had been filled and our very existence forgotten. the chief engineer of our enterprise had promised faithfully that ships with men, material, and supplies for the immediate prosecution of the work, should be at gizhiga and at the mouth of the anadyr river as early in the season as ice would permit them to enter; but it was now august, and they had not yet made their appearance. whether they had been lost, or whether the whole enterprise had been abandoned, we could only conjecture; but as week after week passed away without bringing any news, we gradually lost all hope and began to discuss the advisability of sending some one to the siberian capital to inform the company by telegraph of our situation. it is but justice to major abaza to say that during all these long weary months of waiting he never entirely gave up to discouragement, or allowed himself to doubt the perseverance of the company in the work which it had undertaken. the ships might have been belated or have met with some misfortune, but he did not think it possible that the work had been abandoned, and he continued throughout the summer to make such preparations as he could for another winter's campaign. early in august, dodd and i, tired of looking for vessels which never came, and which we firmly believed never would come, returned on foot to the settlement, leaving arnold and robinson to maintain the watch at the mouth of the river. late in the afternoon of the th, while i was busily engaged in drawing maps to illustrate the explorations of the previous winter, our cossack servant came rushing furiously into the house, breathless with haste and excitement, crying out: "pooshka! soodna!"--"a cannon! a ship!" knowing that three cannon-shots were the signals which arnold and robinson had been directed to make in case a vessel was seen entering the gulf, we ran hurriedly out of doors and listened eagerly for a second report. we had not long to wait. another faint, dull explosion was heard in the direction of the lighthouse, followed at an interval of a moment by a third, leaving no room for a doubt that the long-expected ships had arrived. amid great excitement a canoe was hastily prepared and launched, and taking our seats upon bearskins in the bottom, we ordered our cossack rowers to push off. at every _letoie_ or fishing-station which we passed in our rapid descent of the river, we were hailed with shouts of: "soodnat soodna"--"aship! aship!" and at the last one--volinkina (vo-lin'-kin-ah)--where we stopped for a moment to rest our men, we were told that the vessel was now in plain sight from the hills, and that she had anchored near an island known as the matuga (mat'-oo-gah), about twelve miles distant from the mouth of the river. assured that it was no false alarm, we pushed on with redoubled speed, and in fifteen minutes more landed at the head of the gulf. arnold and robinson, with the russian pilot, kerrillof, had already gone off to the vessel in the government whale-boat, so that there remained nothing for us to do but climb to the summit of lighthouse bluff and watch impatiently for their return. it was late in the afternoon when the signal of a vessel in sight had been given, and by the time we reached the mouth of the river, it was nearly sunset. the ship, which was a good-sized bark, lay quietly at anchor near the middle of the gulf, about twelve miles distant, with a small american flag flying at her peak. we could see the government whale-boat towing astern, and knew that arnold and robinson must be on board; but the ship's boats still hung at the davits, and no preparations were apparently being made to come ashore. the russian governor had made us promise, when we left the settlement, that if the reported vessel turned out a reality and not a delusion, we would fire three more guns. frequent disappointment had taught him the fallibility of human testimony touching the arrival of ships at that particular port, and he did not propose to make a journey to the lighthouse in a leaky canoe, unless further intelligence should fully justify it. as there could no longer be any doubt about the fact, we loaded up the old rusty cannon once more, stuffed it full of wet grass to strengthen its voice, and gave the desired signals, which echoed in successive crashes from every rocky promontory along the coast, and died away to a faint mutter far out at sea. in the course of an hour the governor made his appearance, and as it was beginning to grow dark, we all climbed once more to the summit of the bluff to take a last look at the ship before she should be hidden from sight. there was no appearance of activity on board, and the lateness of the hour made it improbable that arnold and robinson would return before morning. we went back therefore to the empty government house, or "kazarm," and spent half the night in fruitless conjectures as to the cause of the vessel's late arrival and the nature of the news which she would bring. with the earliest morning twilight, dodd and i clambered again to the crest of the bluff, to assure ourselves by actual observation that the ship had not vanished like the _flying dutchman_ under cover of darkness, and left us to mourn another disappointment. there was little ground for fear. not only was the bark still in the position which she had previously occupied, but there had been another arrival during the night. a large three-masted steamer, of apparently tons, was lying in the offing, and three small boats could be seen a few miles distant pulling swiftly toward the mouth of the river. great was the excitement which this discovery produced. dodd rushed furiously down the hill to the _kazarm_, shouting to the major that there was a steamer in the gulf, and that boats were within five miles of the lighthouse. in a few moments we were all gathered in a group on the highest point of the bluff, speculating upon the character of the mysterious steamer which had thus taken us by surprise, and watching the approach of the boats. the largest of these was now within three miles, and our glasses enabled us to distinguish in the long, regular sweep of its oars, the practised stroke of a man-of-war's crew, and in its stem-sheets the peculiar shoulder-straps of russian officers. the steamer was evidently a large war-ship, but what had, brought her to that remote, unfrequented part of the world we could not conjecture. in half an hour more, two of the boats were abreast of lighthouse bluff, and we descended to the landing-place to meet them in a state of excitement not easily imagined. fourteen months had elapsed since we had heard from home, and the prospect of receiving letters and of getting once more to work was a sufficient excuse for unusual excitement. the smallest boat was the first to reach the shore, and as it grated on the sandy beach an officer in blue naval uniform sprang out and introduced himself as captain sutton, of the russian-american telegraph company's bark _clara bell_, two months from san francisco, with men and material for the construction of the line. "where have you been all summer?" demanded the major as he shook hands with the captain; "we have been looking for you ever since june, and had about come to the conclusion that the work was abandoned." captain sutton replied that all of the company's vessels had been late in leaving san francisco, and that he had also been detained some time in petropavlovsk by circumstances explained in his letters. "what steamer is that lying at anchor beyond the _clara bell_?" inquired the major. "that is the russian corvette _varag_, from japan."--"but what is she doing up here?" "why," said the captain with a quizzical smile, "you ought to know, sir; i understand that she reports to you for orders. i believe she has been detailed by the russian government to assist in the construction of the line; at least that was what i was told when we met her at petropavlovsk. she has a russian commissioner on board, and a correspondent of the _new york herald_." this was unexpected news. we had heard that the navy departments of russia and the united states had been instructed to send ships to bering sea to assist the company in making soundings and laying down the cable between the american and siberian coasts, but we had never expected to see either of these vessels at gizhiga. the simultaneous arrival of a loaded bark, a steam corvette, a russian commissioner, and a correspondent of the _new york herald_ certainly looked like business, and we congratulated ourselves and each other upon the improving prospects of the siberian division. the corvette's boat by this time had reached the shore, and after making the acquaintance of mr. anóssof, colonel knox, the _herald_ correspondent, and half a dozen russian officers who spoke english with the greatest fluency, we proceeded to open and read our long-delayed mail. the news, as far as it related to the affairs of the company and the prospects of the enterprise, was very satisfactory. colonel bulkley, the engineer-in-chief, had touched at petropavlovsk on his way north, and had written us from there, by the _varag_ and the _clara bell_, full particulars as to his movements and dispositions. three vessels--the _clara bell, palmetto_, and _onward_--had been sent from san francisco to gizhiga with a force of about sixty men, and large assorted cargoes to the value of sixty thousand dollars. one of these, the _clara bell_, loaded with brackets and insulators, had already arrived; and the other two, with commissary stores, wire, instruments, and men, were _en route_. a fourth vessel with thirty officers and workmen, a small river-steamer, and a full supply of tools and provisions, had also been sent to the mouth of the anadyr river, where it would be received by lieutenant bush. the corvette _varag_ had been detailed by the russian navy department to assist in laying the cable across bering strait; but as the cable, which was ordered in england, had not arrived, there was nothing in particular for the _varag_ to do, and colonel bulkley had sent her with the russian commissioner to gizhiga. owing to her great draught of water--twenty-two feet--she could not safely come within less than fifteen or twenty miles of the okhotsk sea coast, and could not, of course, give us much assistance; but her very presence, with a special russian commissioner on board, invested our enterprise with a sort of governmental authority and sanction, which enabled us to deal more successfully with the local authorities and people than would otherwise have been possible. it had been major abaza's intention, as soon as one of the company's vessels should arrive, to go to the russian city and province of yakutsk, on the lena river, engage there five or six hundred native labourers, purchase three hundred horses, and make arrangements for their distribution along the whole route of the line. the peculiar state of affairs, however, at the time the _varag_ and the _clara bell_ reached gizhiga, made it almost impossible for him to leave. two vessels--the _onward_ and the _palmetto_--were yet to arrive with large and valuable cargoes, whose distribution along the coast of the okhotsk sea he wished to superintend in person. he decided, therefore, to postpone his trip to yakutsk until later in the fall, and to do what he could in the meantime with the two vessels already at his disposal. the _clara bell_, in addition to her cargo of brackets and insulators, brought a foreman and three or four men as passengers, and these major abaza determined to send under command of lieutenant arnold to yamsk, with orders to hire as many native labourers as possible and begin at once the work of cutting poles and preparing station-houses. the _varag_ he proposed to send with stores and despatches to mahood, who had been living alone at okhotsk almost five months without news, money, or provisions, and who it was presumed must be nearly discouraged. on the day previous to the _varag's_ departure, we were all invited by her social and warm-hearted officers to a last complimentary dinner; and although we had not been and should not be able with our scanty means to reciprocate such attentions, we felt no hesitation in accepting the invitation and tasting once more the pleasures of civilised life. nearly all the officers of the _varag_, some thirty in number, spoke english; the ship itself was luxuriously fitted up; a fine military band welcomed us with "hail, columbia!" when we came on board, and played selections from _martha, traviata_, and _der freischütz_ while we dined, and all things contributed to make our visit to the _varag_ a bright spot in our siberian experience. on the following morning at ten o'clock, we returned to the _clara bell_ in one of the latter's small-boats, and the corvette steamed slowly out to sea, her officers waving their hats from the quarter-deck in mute farewell, and her band playing the pirate's chorus--"ever be happy and blest as thou art"--as if in mockery of our lonely, cheerless exile! it was a gloomy party of men which returned that afternoon to a supper of reindeer-meat and cabbage in the bare deserted rooms of the government storehouse at gizhiga! we realised then, if never before, the difference between _life_ in "god's country" and _existence_ in north-eastern asia. as soon as possible after the departure of the _varag_, the _clara bell_ was brought into the mouth of the river, her cargo of brackets and insulators discharged, lieutenant arnold and party sent on board, and with the next high tide, august th, she sailed for yamsk and san francisco, leaving no one at gizhiga but the original kamchatkan party, dodd, the major, and myself. chapter xxxiii arrival of bark "palmetto"--driven ashore by gale--discharging cargo under difficulties--negro crew mutinies--lonely trip to anadyrsk--stupid koraks--explosive provisions the brief excitement produced by the arrival of the _varag_ and the _clara bell_ was succeeded by another long, dreary month of waiting, during which we lived as before in lonely discomfort at the mouth of the gizhiga river. week after week passed away without bringing any tidings from the missing ships, and at last the brief northern summer closed, snow appeared upon the mountains, and heavy long-continued storms announced the speedy approach of another winter. more than three months had elapsed since the supposed departure of the _onward_ and _palmetto_ from san francisco, and we could account for their non-appearance only by the supposition that they had either been disabled or lost at sea. on the th of september, major abaza determined to send a messenger to the siberian capital, to telegraph the company for instructions. left as we were at the beginning of a second winter without men, tools, or materials of any kind, except , insulators and brackets, we could do nothing toward the construction of the line, and our only resource was to make our unpleasant situation known to the company. on the th, however, before this resolution could be carried into effect, the long-expected bark _palmetto_ arrived, followed closely by the russian supply-steamer _saghalin_, from nikolaievsk. the latter, being independent of wind and drawing very little water, had no difficulty in crossing the bar and gaining the shelter of the river; but the _palmetto_ was compelled to anchor outside and await a higher tide. the weather, which for several days had been cold and threatening, grew momentarily worse, and on the d the wind was blowing a close-reefed-topsail gale from the south-east, and rolling a tremendous sea into the unprotected gulf. we felt the most serious apprehensions for the safety of the unfortunate bark; but as the water would not permit her to cross the bar at the mouth of the river, nothing could be done until another high tide. on the d, it became evident that the _palmetto_--upon which now rested all our hopes--must inevitably go ashore. she had broken her heaviest anchor, and was drifting slowly but surely against the rocky, precipitous coast on the eastern side of the river, where nothing could prevent her from being dashed to pieces. as there was now no other alternative, captain arthur slipped his cable, got his ship under way, and stood directly in for the mouth of the river. he could no longer avoid going ashore somewhere, and it was better to strike on a yielding bar of sand than to drift helplessly against a black perpendicular wall of rock, where destruction would be certain. the bark came gallantly in until she was only half a mile distant from the lighthouse, and then grounded heavily in about seven feet of water. as soon as she struck she began pounding with tremendous violence against the bottom while the seas broke in great white clouds of spray entirely over her quarter-deck. it did not seem probable, that she would live through the night. as the tide rose, however, she drove farther and farther in toward the mouth of the river until, at full flood, she was only a quarter of a mile distant. being a very strongly built ship, she suffered less damage than we had supposed, and, as the tide ran out, she lay high and dry on the bar, with no more serious injury than the loss of her false keel and a few sections of her copper sheathing. as she was lying on her beam-ends, with her deck careened at an angle of forty-five degrees, it was impossible to hoist anything out of her hold, but we made preparations at once to discharge her cargo in boats as soon as another tide should raise her into an upright position. we felt little hope of being able to save the ship, but it was all-important that her cargo should be discharged before she should go to pieces. captain tobézin, of the russian steamer _saghalin_, offered us the use of all his boats and the assistance of his crew, and on the following day we began work with six or seven boats, a large lighter, and about fifty men. the sea still continued to run very high; the bark recommenced her pounding against the bottom; the lighter swamped and sank with a full load about a hundred yards from shore, and a miscellaneous assortment of boxes, crates, and flour-barrels went swimming up the river with the tide. notwithstanding all these misfortunes, we kept perseveringly at work with the boats as long as there was water enough around the bark to float them, and by the time the tide ran out we could congratulate ourselves upon having saved provisions enough to insure us against starvation, even though the ship should go to pieces that night. on the th, the wind abated somewhat in violence, the sea went down, and as the bark did not seem to be seriously injured we began to entertain some hope of saving both ship and cargo. from the th until the th of september, all the boats of the _saghalin_ and of the _palmetto_, with the crews of both vessels, were constantly engaged in transporting stores from the bark to the shore, and on the th at least half of the _palmetto's_ cargo was safely discharged. so far as we could judge, there would be nothing to prevent her from going to sea with the first high tide in october. a careful examination proved that she had sustained no greater injury than the loss of her false keel, and this, in the opinion of the _saghalin's_ officers, would not make her any the less seaworthy, or interfere to any extent with her sailing. a new difficulty, however, presented itself. the crew of the _palmetto were_ all negroes; and as soon as they learned that major abaza intended to send the bark to san francisco that fall, they promptly refused to go, declaring that the vessel was unseaworthy, and that they preferred to spend the winter in siberia rather than risk a voyage in her to america. major abaza immediately called a commission of the officers of the _saghalin_, and requested them to make another examination of the bark and give him their opinion in writing as to her seaworthiness. the examination was made, and the opinion given that she was entirely fit for a voyage to petropavlovsk, kamchatka, and probably to san francisco. this decision was read to the negroes, but they still persisted in their refusal. after warning them of the consequences of mutiny, the major ordered their ringleader to be put in irons, and he was conveyed on board the _saghalin_ and imprisoned in the "black hole"; but his comrades still held out. it was of vital importance that the _palmetto_ should go to sea with the first high tide, because the season was already far advanced, and she must inevitably be wrecked by ice if she remained in the river later than the middle of october. besides this, major abaza would be compelled to leave for yakutsk on the steamer _saghalin_, and the latter was now ready to go to sea. on the afternoon of the st, just as the _saghalin_ was getting up steam to start, the negroes sent word to the major that if he would release the man whom he had caused to be put in irons, they would do their best to finish unloading the _palmetto_ and to get her back to san francisco. the man was promptly released, and two hours afterwards major abaza sailed on the _saghalin_ for okhotsk, leaving us to do the best we could with our half-wrecked stranded ship and her mutinous crew. the cargo of the bark was still only half discharged, and we continued for the next five days to unload in boats, but it was hard, discouraging work, as there were only six hours in the twenty-four during which boats could reach the ship, and those six hours were from eleven o'clock p.m. to five in the morning. at all other times the ship lay on her beam-ends, and the water around her was too shallow to float even a plank. to add, if possible, to our difficulties and to our anxiety, the weather became suddenly colder, the thermometer fell to zero, masses of floating ice came in with every tide and tore off great sheets of the vessel's copper as they drifted past, and the river soon became so choked up with icy fragments that we were obliged to haul the boats back and forth with ropes. in spite of weather, water, and ice, however, the vessel's cargo was slowly but steadily discharged, and by the th of october nothing remained on board except a few hogsheads of flour, some salt-beef and pork which we did not want, and seventy-five or a hundred tons of coal. these we determined to let her carry back to san francisco as ballast. the tides were now getting successively higher and higher every day, and on the th the _palmetto_ floated for the first time in almost three weeks. as soon as her keel cleared the bar she was swung around into the channel, head to sea, and moored with light kedge-anchors, ready for a start on the following day. since the intensely cold weather of the previous week, her crew of negroes had expressed no further desire to spend a winter in siberia, and, unless the wind should veer suddenly to the southward, we could see nothing to prevent her from getting safely out of the river. the wind for once proved favourable, and at p.m. on the th of october the _palmetto_ shook out her long-furled courses and topsails, cut the cables of her kedge-anchors, and with a light breeze from the north-east, moved slowly out into the gulf. never was music more sweet to my ears than the hearty "yo heave ho!" of her negro crew as they sheeted home the topgallant sails outside the bar! the bark was safely at sea. she was not a day too soon in making her escape. in less than a week after her departure, the river and the upper part of the gulf were so packed with ice that it would have been impossible for her to move or to avoid total wreck. the prospects of the enterprise at the opening of the second winter were more favourable than they had been at any time since its inception. the company's vessels, it is true, had been very late in their arrival, and one of them, the _onward_, had not come at all; but the _palmetto_ had brought twelve or fourteen more men and a full supply of tools and provisions, major abaza had gone to yakutsk to hire six or eight hundred native labourers and purchase three hundred horses, and we hoped that the first of february would find the work progressing rapidly along the whole extent of the line. as soon as possible after the departure of the _palmetto_, i sent lieutenant sandford and the twelve men whom she had brought into the woods on the gizhiga river above the settlement, supplied them with axes, snow-shoes, dog-sledges, and provisions, and set them at work cutting poles and building houses, to be distributed across the steppes between gizhiga and penzhinsk gulf. i also sent a small party of natives under mr. wheeler to yamsk, with five or six sledge-loads of axes and provisions for lieutenant arnold, and despatches to be forwarded to major abaza. for the present, nothing more could be done on the coast of the okhotsk sea, and i prepared to start once more for the north. we had heard nothing whatever from lieutenant bush and party since the first of the previous may, and we were of course anxious to know what success he had met with in cutting and rafting poles down the anadyr river, and what were his prospects and plans for the winter. the late arrival of the _palmetto_ at gizhiga had led us to fear that the vessel destined for the anadyr might also have been detained and have placed lieutenant bush and party in a very unpleasant if not dangerous situation. major abaza had directed me, therefore, when he sailed for okhotsk, to go by the first winter road to anadyrsk and ascertain whether the company's vessels had been at the mouth of the river, and whether bush needed any assistance. as there was no longer anything to detain me at gizhiga, i packed up my camp-equipage and extra fur clothes, loaded five sledges with tea, sugar, tobacco, and provisions, and on november d started with six cossacks for my last journey to the arctic circle. in all my siberian experience i can recall no expedition which was so lonely and dismal as this. for the sake of saving transportation, i had decided not to take any of my american comrades with me; but by many a silent camp-fire did i regret my self-denying economy, and long for the hearty laugh and good-humoured raillery of my "fidus achates"--dodd. during twenty-five days i did not meet a civilised being or speak a word of my native language, and at the end of that time i should have been glad to talk to an intelligent american dog. "aloneness," says beecher, "is to social life what rests are to music"; but a journey made up entirely of "aloneness" is no more entertaining than a piece of music made up entirely of rests--only a vivid imagination can make anything out of either. [illustration: a yurt of the settled koraks in midwinter] at kuil, on the coast of penzhinsk gulf, i was compelled to leave my good-humoured cossacks and take for drivers half a dozen stupid, sullen, shaven-headed koraks, and from that time i was more lonesome than ever. i had been able to talk a little with the cossacks, and had managed to pass away the long winter evenings by the camp-fire in questioning them about their peculiar beliefs and superstitions, and listening to their characteristic stories of siberian life; but now, as i could not speak the korak language, i was absolutely without any resource for amusement. my new drivers were the ugliest, most villainous-looking koraks that it would have been possible to select in all the penzhinsk gulf settlements, and their obstinacy and sullen stupidity kept me in a chronic state of ill-humour from the time we left kuil until we reached penzhina. only by threatening them periodically with a revolver could i make them go at all. the art of camping out comfortably in bad weather they knew nothing whatever about, and in vain did i try to teach them. in spite of all my instructions and illustrations, they would persist night after night in digging a deep narrow hole in the snow for a fire, and squatting around the top of it like frogs around the edge of a well, while i made a camp for myself. of the art of cooking they were equally ignorant, and the mystery of canned provisions they could never fathom. why the contents of one can should be boiled, while the contents of another precisely similar can should be fried--why one turned into soup and another into a cake--were questions which they gravely discussed night after night, but about which they could never agree. astounding were the experiments which they occasionally tried upon the contents of these incomprehensible tin boxes. tomatoes they brought to me fried into cakes with butter, peaches they mixed with canned beef and boiled for soup, green corn they sweetened, and desiccated vegetables they broke into lumps with stones. never by any accident did they hit upon the right combination, unless i stood over them constantly and superintended personally the preparation of my own supper. ignorant as they were, however, of the nature of these strange american eatables, they always manifested a great curiosity to taste them, and their experiments in this way were sometimes very amusing. one evening, soon after we left shestakóva, they happened to see me eating a pickled cucumber, and as this was something which had never come within the range of their limited gastronomical experience, they asked me for a piece to taste. knowing well what the result would be, i gave the whole cucumber to the dirtiest, worst-looking vagabond in the party, and motioned to him to take a good bite. as he put it to his lips his comrades watched him with breathless curiosity to see how he liked it. for a moment his face wore an expression of blended surprise, wonder, and disgust, which was irresistibly ludicrous, and he seemed disposed to spit the disagreeable morsel out; but with a strong effort he controlled himself, forced his features into a ghastly imitation of satisfaction, smacked his lips, declared it was "akhmel nemélkhin"--very good,--and handed the pickle to his next neighbour. the latter was equally astonished and disgusted with its unexpected sourness, but, rather than admit his disappointment and be laughed at by the others, he also pretended that it was delicious, and passed it along. six men in succession went through with this transparent farce with the greatest solemnity; but when they had all tasted it, and all been victimised, they burst out into a simultaneous "ty-e-e-e" of astonishment, and gave free expression to their long-suppressed emotions of disgust. the vehement spitting, coughing, and washing out of mouths with snow, which succeeded this outburst, proved that the taste for pickles is an acquired one, and that man in his aboriginal state does not possess it. what particularly amused me, however, was the way in which they imposed on one another. each individual korak, as soon as he found that he had been victimised, saw at once the necessity of getting even by victimising the next man, and not one of them would admit that there was anything bad about the pickle until they had all tasted it. "misery loves company," and human nature is the same all the world over. dissatisfied as they were with the result of this experiment, they were not at all daunted, but still continued to ask me for samples of every tin can i opened. just before we reached penzhina, however, a catastrophe occurred which relieved me from their importunity, and inspired them with a superstitious reverence for tin cans which no subsequent familiarity could ever overcome. we were accustomed, when we came into camp at night, to set our cans into a bed of hot ashes and embers to thaw out, and i had cautioned my drivers repeatedly not to do this until after the cans had been opened. i could not of course explain to them that the accumulation of steam would cause the cans to burst; but i did tell them that it would be "atkin"--bad--if they did not make a hole in the cover before putting the can on the fire. one evening, however, they forgot or neglected to take this precaution, and while they were all squatting in a circle around the fire, absorbed in meditation, one of the cans suddenly blew up with a tremendous explosion, set free an immense cloud of steam, and scattered fragments of boiling hot mutton in every direction. had a volcano opened suddenly under the camp-fire, the koraks could not have been more dismayed. they had not time to get up and run away, so they rolled over backward with their heels in the air, shouted "kammuk!"--"the devil!"--and gave themselves up for lost. my hearty laughter finally reassured them, and made them a little ashamed of their momentary panic; but from that time forward they handled tin cans as if they were loaded percussion shells, and could never again be induced to taste a morsel of their contents. our progress toward anadyrsk after we left the coast of the okhotsk sea was very slow, on account both of the shortness of the days, and the depth and softness of the freshly fallen snow. frequently, for ten or fifteen miles at a stretch, we were compelled to break a road on snow-shoes for our heavily loaded sledges, and even then our tired dogs could hardly struggle through the soft powdery drifts. the weather, too, was so intensely cold that my mercurial thermometer, which indicated only - °, was almost useless. for several days the mercury never rose out of the bulb, and i could only estimate the temperature by the rapidity with which my supper froze after being taken from the fire. more than once soup turned from a liquid to a solid in my hands, and green corn froze to my tin plate before i could finish eating it. on the fourteenth day after leaving gizhiga we reached the native settlement of penzhina, two hundred versts from anadyrsk. ours was the first arrival at that place since the previous may, and the whole population of the village--men, women, children, and dogs--turned out _en masse_ to meet us, with the most joyful demonstrations. six months had elapsed since they last saw a strange face or heard from the outside world, and they proceeded to fire a salute from half a dozen rusty old muskets, as a faint expression of their delight. i had confidently expected when i left gizhiga that i should meet somewhere on the road a courier with news and despatches from bush; and i was very much disappointed and a little alarmed when i reached penzhina to find that no one had arrived at that place from anadyrsk, and that nothing had been heard from our party since the previous spring. i felt a presentiment that something was wrong, because bush had been expressly directed to send a courier to gizhiga by the first winter road, and it was now late in november. on the following day my worst anticipations were realised. late in the evening, as i was sitting in the house of one of the russian peasants drinking tea, the cry was raised that "anadyrski yaydoot"--"some one is coming from anadyrsk"; and running hastily out of the house i met the long-haired anadyrsk priest just as he stepped from his sledge in front of the door. my first question of course was, "where's bush?" but my heart sank as the priest replied: "bokh yevo znaiet"--"god only knows." "but where did you see him last?--where did he spend the summer?" i inquired. "i saw him last at the mouth of the anadyr river, in july," said the priest, "and since that time nothing has been heard from him." a few more questions brought out the whole dismal story. bush, macrae, harder, and smith had gone down the anadyr river in june with a large raft of station-houses, intended for erection along its banks. after putting up these houses at necessary points, they had gone on in canoes to anadyr bay, to await the arrival of the company's vessels from san francisco. here the priest had joined them and had lived with them several weeks; but late in july their scanty supply of provisions had given out, the expected ships had not come, and the priest returned to the settlement, leaving the unfortunate americans in a half-starving condition at the mouth of the river. since that time nothing had been heard from them, and, as the priest mournfully said, "god only knew" where they were and what had happened to them. this was bad news, but it was not the worst. in consequence of the entire failure of the salmon fisheries of the anadyr river that season, a terrible famine had broken out at anadyrsk, part of the inhabitants and nearly all the dogs had died of starvation, and the village was almost deserted. everybody who had dogs enough to draw a sledge had gone in search of the wandering chukchis, with whom they could live until another summer; and the few people who were left in the settlement were eating their boots and scraps of reindeerskin to keep themselves alive. early in october a party of natives had gone in search of bush and his comrades on dog-sledges, but more than a month had now elapsed since their departure and they had not yet returned. in all probability they had starved to death on the great desolate plains of the lower anadyr, as they had been compelled to start with only ten days' provisions, and it was doubtful whether they would meet wandering chukchis who could supply them with more. such was the first news which i heard from the northern district--a famine at anadyrsk, bush and party absent since july, and eight natives and dog-sledges missing since the middle of october. i did not see how the state of affairs could be any worse, and i spent a sleepless night in thinking over the situation and trying to decide upon some plan of operations. much as i dreaded another journey to the mouth of the anadyr in midwinter, i saw no way of avoiding it. the fact that nothing had been heard from bush in four months proved that he had met with some misfortune, and it was clearly my duty to go to anadyr bay in search of him if there was a possibility of doing so. on the following morning, therefore, i began buying a supply of dog-food, and before night i had collected dried fish and a quantity of seals' blubber, which i felt sure would last five dog teams at least forty days. i then sent for the chief of a band of wandering koraks who happened to be encamped near penzhina, and prevailed upon him to drive his herd of reindeer to anadyrsk, and kill enough to supply the starving inhabitants with food until they could get other help. i also sent two natives back to gizhiga on dog-sledges, with a letter to the russian governor, apprising him of the famine, and another to dodd, directing him to load all the dog-sledges he could get with provisions and send them at once to penzhina, where i would make arrangements for their transportation to the famine-stricken settlement. i started myself for anadyrsk on november th with five of the best men and an equal number of the best dog-teams in penzhina. these men and dogs i intended to take with me to the mouth of the anadyr river if i heard nothing from bush before i reached anadyrsk. [illustration: box for holding cups and teapot] chapter xxxiv a meeting in the night--hardships of bush's party--siberian famines--fish savings banks--work in the northern district--starving pole cutters--a journey to yamsk availing ourselves of the road which had been broken by the sledges of the priest, we made more rapid progress toward anadyrsk than i had anticipated, and on november d we camped at the foot of a range of low mountains known as the "russki krebet," only thirty versts south of the settlement. with the hope of reaching our destination before the next morning, we had intended to travel all night; but a storm sprang up most inopportunely just before dark and prevented us from getting over the pass. about midnight the wind abated a little, the moon came out occasionally through rifts in the clouds, and, fearing that we should have no better opportunity, we roused up our tired dogs and began the ascent of the mountain. it was a wild, lonely scene. the snow was drifting in dense clouds down the pass, half hiding from sight the bare white peaks on either side, and blotting out all the landscape behind us as we ascended. now and then the misty moonbeams would struggle faintly through the clouds of flying snow and light up for a moment the great barren slope of the mountain above our heads; then they would be suddenly smothered in dark vapour, the wind would come roaring down the ravine again, and everything would vanish in clouds and darkness. blinded and panting for breath, we finally gained the summit, and as we stopped for a moment to rest our tired dogs, we were suddenly startled by the sight of a long line of dark objects passing swiftly across the bare mountain-top only a few yards away and plunging down into the ravine out of which we had just come. i caught only a glimpse of them, but they seemed to be dog-sledges, and with a great shout we started in pursuit. dog-sledges they were, and as we drew nearer i recognised among them the old sealskin covered _pavoska_ which i had left at anadyrsk the previous winter, and which i knew must be occupied by an american. with heart beating fast from excitement i sprang from my sledge, ran up to the _pavoska_, and demanded in english, "who is it?" it was too dark to recognise faces, but i knew well the voice that answered "bush!" and never was that voice more welcome. for more than three weeks i had not seen a countryman nor spoken a word of english; i was lonely and disheartened by constantly accumulating misfortunes, when suddenly at midnight on a desolate mountain-top, in a storm, i met an old friend and comrade whom i had almost given up as dead. it was a joyful meeting. the natives who had gone to anadyr bay in search of bush and his party had returned in safety, bringing bush with them, and he was on his way to gizhiga to carry the news of the famine and get provisions and help. he had been stopped by the storm as we had, and when it abated a little at midnight we had both started from opposite sides to cross the mountain, and had thus met upon the summit. we went back together to my deserted camp on the south side of the mountain, blew up the embers of my still smouldering fire, spread down our bearskins, and sat there talking until we were as white as polar bears with the drifting snow, and day began to break in the east. bush brought more bad news. they had gone down to the mouth of the anadyr, as the priest had already informed me, in the early part of june, and had waited there for the company's vessels almost four months. their provisions had finally given out, and they had been compelled to subsist upon the few fish that they were able to catch from day to day, and go hungry when they could catch none. for salt they scraped the staves of an old pork-barrel which had been left at macrae's camp the previous winter, and for coffee they drank burned rice water. at last, however, salt and rice both failed, and they were reduced to an unvarying and often scanty diet of boiled fish, without coffee, bread, or salt. living in the midst of a great moss swamp fifty miles from the nearest tree, dressing in skins for the want of anything else, suffering frequently from hunger, tormented constantly by mosquitoes, from which they had no protection, and looking day after day and week after week for vessels which never came, their situation was certainly miserable. the company's bark _golden gate_ had finally arrived in october, bringing twenty-five men and a small steamer; but winter had already set in, and five days afterwards, before they could finish discharging the vessel's cargo, she was wrecked by ice. her crew and nearly all her stores were saved, but by this misfortune the number of the party was increased from twenty-five to forty-seven, without any corresponding increase in the quantity of provisions for their subsistence. fortunately, however, there were bands of wandering chukchis within reach, and from them bush succeeded in buying a considerable number of reindeer, which he caused to be frozen and stored away for future use. after the freezing over of the anadyr river, bush was left, as macrae had been the previous winter, without any means of getting up to the settlement, a distance of miles; but he had foreseen this difficulty, and had left orders at anadyrsk that if he failed to return in canoes before the river closed, dog-sledges should be sent to his assistance. notwithstanding the famine the dog-sledges were sent, and bush, with two men, had returned on them to anadyrsk. finding that settlement famine-stricken and deserted, he had started without a moment's delay for gizhiga, his exhausted and starving dogs dying along the road. the situation of affairs, then, when i met bush on the summit of the russki krebet, was briefly as follows: forty-four men were living at the mouth of the anadyr river, miles from the nearest settlement, without provisions enough to last them through the winter, and without any means whatever of getting away. the village of anadyrsk was deserted, and with the exception of a few teams at penzhina, there were no available dogs in all the northern district, from the okhotsk sea to bering strait. under such circumstances, what could be done? bush and i discussed the question all night beside our lonely camp-fire under the russki krebet, but could come to no decision, and after sleeping three or four hours we started for anadyrsk. late in the afternoon we drove into the settlement--but it could be called a settlement no longer. the two upper villages--"osolkin" and "pokorukof," which on the previous winter had presented so thriving an appearance, were now left without a single inhabitant, and markova itself was occupied only by a few starving families whose dogs had all died, and who were therefore unable to get away. no chorus of howls announced our arrival; no people came out to meet us; the windows of the houses were closed with wooden shutters, and half buried in drifts; the snow was unbroken by paths, and the whole village was silent and desolate. it looked as if one-half of the inhabitants had died and the other half had gone to the funeral! we stopped at a small log-house where bush had established his headquarters, and spent the remainder of the day in talking over our respective experiences. the unpleasant situation in which we found ourselves placed was due almost entirely to the famine at anadyrsk. the late arrival and consequent wreck of the _golden gate_ was of course a great misfortune; but it would not have been irretrievable had not the famine deprived us of all means of transportation. the inhabitants of anadyrsk, as well as of all the other russian settlements in siberia, are dependent for their very existence upon the fish which enter the rivers every summer to spawn, and are caught by thousands as they make their way up-stream toward the shallow water of the tributary brooks in the interior of the country. as long as these migrations of the fish are regular the natives have no difficulty in providing themselves with an abundance of food; but once in every three or four years, for some unexplained reason, the fish fail to come, and the following winter brings precisely such a famine as the one which i have described at anadyrsk, only frequently much worse. in more than a hundred and fifty natives died of starvation in four settlements on the coast of penzhinsk gulf, and the peninsula of kamchatka has been swept by famines again and again since the russian conquest, until its population has been reduced more than one-half. were it not for the wandering koraks, who come to the relief of the starving people with their immense herds of reindeer, i firmly believe that the _settled_ population of siberia, including the russians, chuances, yukagirs, and kamchadals, would become extinct in less than fifty years. the great distance of the settlements one from another, and the absence of any means of intercommunication in summer, make each village entirely dependent upon its own resources, and prevent any mutual support and assistance, until it is too late to be of any avail. the first victims of such famines are always the dogs; and the people being thus deprived of their only means of transportation, cannot get away from the famine-stricken settlement, and after eating their boots, sealskin thongs, and scraps of untanned leather, they finally die of pure starvation. for this, however, their own careless improvidence is primarily responsible. they might catch and dry fish enough in one year to last them three; but instead of doing this, they provide barely food enough to last them through one winter, and take the chances of starvation on the next. no experience, however severe--no suffering, however great, teaches them prudence. a man who has barely escaped starvation one winter, will run precisely the same risk on the next, rather than take a little extra trouble and catch a few more fish. even when they see that a famine is inevitable, they take no measures to mitigate its severity or to obtain relief, until they find themselves absolutely without a morsel to put in their mouths. [illustration: an arctic funeral] a native of anadyrsk once happened to tell me, in the course of conversation, that he had only five days' dog-food left. "but," said i, "what do you intend to do at the end of those five days?"--"bokh yevo znaiet"--god only knows!--was the characteristic response, and the native turned carelessly away as if it were a matter of no consequence whatever. if god only knew, he seemed to think that it made very little difference whether anybody else knew or not. after he had fed his dogs the last dried fish in his storehouse, it would be time enough to look about for more; but until then he did not propose to borrow any unnecessary trouble. this well known recklessness and improvidence of the natives finally led the russian government to establish at several of the north-eastern siberian settlements a peculiar institution which may be called a fish savings bank, or starvation insurance office. it was organised at first by the gradual purchase from the natives of about a hundred thousand dried fish, or _yukala_, which constituted the capital stock of the bank. every male inhabitant of the settlement was then obliged by law to pay into this bank annually one-tenth of all the fish he caught, and no excuse was admitted for a failure. the surplus fund thus created was added every year to the capital, so that as long as the fish continued to come regularly, the resources of the bank were constantly accumulating. when, however, the fish for any reason failed and a famine was threatened, every depositor--or, more strictly speaking, tax-payer--was allowed to borrow from the bank enough fish to supply his immediate wants, upon condition of returning the same on the following summer, together with the regular annual payment of ten per cent. it is evident that an institution once thoroughly established upon such a basis, and managed upon such principles, could never fail, but would constantly increase its capital of dried fish until the settlement would be perfectly secure against even the possibility of famine. at kolyma, a russian post on the arctic ocean, where the experiment was first tried, it proved a complete success. the bank sustained the inhabitants of the village through severe famines during two consecutive winters, and its capital in amounted to , dried fish, and was accumulating at the rate of , a year. anadyrsk, not being a russian military post, had no bank of this kind; but had our work been continued another year, we intended to petition the government for the organisation of such institutions at all the settlements, russian and native, along the whole route of our line. in the meantime, however, the famine was irremediable, and on december , , poor bush found himself in a deserted settlement versts from gizhiga without money, without provisions, and without means of transportation--but with a helpless party of forty-four men, at the mouth of the anadyr river, dependent upon him for support. building a telegraph line under such circumstances was out of the question. all that he could hope to do would be to keep his parties supplied with provisions until the arrival of horses and men from yakutsk should enable him to resume work. on november th, finding that i could be of no further assistance at anadyrsk, and that i was only helping to eat up more rapidly bush's scanty supply of provisions, i started with two penzhina sledges for gizhiga. as i did not again visit the northern district, and shall have no further occasion to refer to it, i will relate briefly here the little which i afterward learned by letter with regard to the misfortunes and unhappy experiences of the company's employés in that region. the sledges that i had ordered from gizhiga reached penzhina late in december, with about pounds of beans, rice, hard-bread, and assorted stores. as soon as possible after their arrival bush sent half a dozen sledges and a small quantity of provisions to the party at the mouth of the anadyr river and in february they returned, bringing six men. determined to accomplish something, however little, bush sent these six men to a point on the myan river, about seventy-five versts from anadyrsk, and set them at work on snow-shoes cutting poles along the route of the line. later in the winter another expedition was sent to anadyr bay, and on the th of march it also returned, bringing lieutenant macrae and seven more men. this party experienced terrible weather on its way from the mouth of the river to anadyrsk, and one of its members--a man named robinson--died in a storm about versts east of the settlement. his body was left unburied in one of the houses which bush had erected the previous summer and his comrades pushed on. as soon as they reached anadyrsk they were sent to the myan, and by the middle of march the two parties together had cut and distributed along the banks of that river about poles. in april, however, their provisions began again to run short, they were gradually reduced to the verge of starvation, and bush started a second time for gizhiga with a few miserable half-starved and exhausted dog-teams, to get more provisions. during his absence the unfortunate parties on the myan were left to take care of themselves, and after consuming their last morsel of food and eating up three horses which had previously been sent to them from anadyrsk, they organised themselves into a forlorn hope, and started on snow-shoes for the settlement. it was a terrible walk for half-starving men; and although they reached their destination in safety, they were entirely exhausted, and when they approached the village could hardly go a hundred yards at a time without falling. at anadyrsk they succeeded in obtaining a small quantity of reindeer-meat, upon which they lived until the return of lieutenant bush from gizhiga with provisions, some time in may. thus ended the second winter's work in the northern district. as far as practical results were concerned, it was an almost complete failure; but it developed in our officers and men a courage, a perseverance, and a patient endurance of hardships which deserved, and which under more favourable auspices would have achieved, the most brilliant success. in the month of february, while mr. norton and his men were at work on the myan river, the thermometer indicated more than forty degrees below zero during sixteen days out of twenty-one, sank five times to - ° and once to - °, or one hundred degrees below the freezing point of water. cutting poles on snow-shoes, in a temperature ranging from ° to ° below zero is, in itself, no slight trial of men's hardihood; but when to this are added the sufferings of hunger and the peril of utter starvation in a perfect wilderness, it passes human endurance, and the only wonder is that norton and macrae could accomplish as much as they did. returning from anadyrsk, i reached gizhiga on the th of december, after a hard and lonely journey of sixteen days. a special courier had just arrived there from yakutsk, bringing letters and orders from major abaza. he had succeeded, with the sanction and cooperation of the governor of that province, in hiring for a period of three years a force of eight hundred yakut labourers, at a fixed rate of sixty rubles, or about forty dollars a year for each man. he had also purchased three hundred yakut horses and pack-saddles, and an immense quantity of material and provisions of various kinds for the equipment and subsistence of horses and workmen. a portion of these men were already on their way to okhotsk, and the whole force would be sent thither in successive detachments as rapidly as possible, and distributed from there along the whole route of the line. it would be necessary, of course, to put this large force of native labourers under skilled american superintendence; and as we had not foremen enough in all our parties to oversee more than five or six gangs of men, major abaza determined to send a courier to petropavlovsk for the officers who had sailed from san francisco in the bark _onward_, and who he presumed had been landed by that vessel in kamchatka. he directed me, therefore, to make arrangements for the transportation of these men from petropavlovsk to gizhiga; to prepare immediately for the reception of fifty or sixty yakut labourers; to send six hundred army rations to yamsk for the subsistence of our american party there, and three thousand pounds of rye flour for a party of yakuts who would reach there in february. to fill all these requisitions i had at my disposal about fifteen dog-sledges, and even these had gone with provisions to penzhina for the relief of lieutenant bush. with the assistance of the russian governor i succeeded in getting two cossacks to go to petropavlovsk after the americans who were presumed to have been left there by the _onward_, and half a dozen koraks to carry provisions to yamsk, while lieutenant arnold himself sent sledges for the six hundred rations. i thus retained my own fifteen sledges to supply lieutenant sandford and party, who were now cutting poles on the tilghai river, north of penzhinsk gulf. one day late in december, while dodd and i were out on the river above the settlement training a team of dogs, word was brought to us that an american had arrived from kamchatka, bringing news from the long-missing bark _onward_ and the party of men whom she landed at petropavlovsk. hurrying back to the village with all possible speed, we found mr. lewis, the american in question, seated comfortably in our house drinking tea. this enterprising young man--who, by the way, was a telegraph operator, wholly unaccustomed to rough life--without being able to speak a word of russian, had traversed alone, in mid-winter, the whole wilderness of kamchatka from petropavlovsk to gizhiga. he had been forty-two days on the road, and had travelled on dog-sledges nearly twelve hundred miles, with no companions except a few natives and a cossack from tigil. he seemed disposed to look upon this achievement very modestly, but in some respects it was one of the most remarkable journeys ever made by one of the company's employés. the _onward_, as we had supposed, being unable to reach gizhiga, on account of the lateness of the season, had discharged her cargo and landed most of her passengers at petropavlovsk; and mr. lewis had been sent by the chief of the party to report their situation to major abaza, and find out what they should do. after the arrival of mr. lewis nothing of special importance occurred until march. arnold at yamsk, sandford on the tilghai, and bush at anadyrsk, were trying, with the few men they had, to accomplish some work; but, owing to deep snow-storms, intensely cold weather, and a general lack everywhere of provisions and dogs, their efforts were mostly fruitless. in january i made an excursion with twelve or fifteen sledges to sandford's camp on the tilghai, and attempted to move his party to another point thirty or forty versts nearer gizhiga; but in a severe storm on the kuil steppe we were broken up, dispersed, and all lost separately, and after wandering around four or five days in clouds of drifting snow which hid even our dogs from sight, sandford with a portion of his party returned to the tilghai, and i with the remainder to gizhiga. late in february the cossack kolmagórof arrived from petropavlovsk, kamchatka, bringing three of the men who had been landed there by the _onward_. in march i received by a special courier from yakutsk another letter and more orders from major abaza. the eight hundred labourers whom he had engaged were being rapidly sent forward to okhotsk, and more than a hundred and fifty were already at work at that place and at yamsk. the equipment and transportation of the remainder still required his personal supervision, and it would be impossible, he wrote, for him to return that winter to gizhiga. he could come however, as far as the settlement of yamsk, three hundred versts west of gizhiga, and requested me to meet him at that place within twelve days after the receipt of his letter. i started at once with one american companion named leet, taking twelve days' dog-food and provisions. the country between gizhiga and yamsk was entirely different in character from anything which i had previously seen in siberia. there were no such great desolate plains as those between gizhiga and anadyrsk and in the northern part of kamchatka. on the contrary, the whole coast of the okhotsk sea, for nearly six hundred miles west of gizhiga, was one wilderness of rugged, broken, almost impassable mountains, intersected by deep valleys and ravines, and heavily timbered with dense pine and larch forests. the stanavoi range of mountains, which sweeps up around the okhotsk sea from the chinese frontier, keeps everywhere near the coast line, and sends down between its lateral spurs hundreds of small rivers and streams which run through deep wooded valleys to the sea. the road, or rather the travelled route from gizhiga to yamsk, crosses all these streams and lateral spurs at right angles, keeping about midway between the great mountain range and the sea. most of the dividing ridges between these streams are nothing but high, bare watersheds, which can be easily crossed; but at one point, about a hundred and fifty versts west of gizhiga, the central range sends out to the seacoast, a great spur of mountains or feet in height, which completely blocks up the road. along the bases of these mountains runs a deep, gloomy valley known as the viliga, whose upper end pierces the central stanavoi range and affords an outlet to the winds pent up between the steppes and the sea. in winter when the open water of the okhotsk sea is warmer than the frozen plains north of the mountains, the air over the former rises, and a colder atmosphere rushes through the valley of the viliga to take its place. in summer, while the water of the sea is still chilled with masses of unmelted ice, the great steppes behind the mountains are covered with vegetation and warm with almost perpetual sunshine, and the direction of the wind is consequently reversed. this valley of the viliga, therefore, may be regarded as a great natural breathing-hole, through which the interior steppes respire once a year. at no other point does the stanavoi range afford an opening through which the air can pass back and forth between the steppes and the sea, and as a natural consequence this ravine is swept by one almost uninterrupted storm. while the weather everywhere else is calm and still, the wind blows through the viliga in a perfect hurricane, tearing up great clouds of snow from the mountain sides and carrying them far out to sea. for this reason it is dreaded by all natives who are compelled to pass that way, and is famous throughout north-eastern siberia as "the stormy gorge of the viliga!" on the fifth day after leaving gizhiga, our small party, increased by a russian postilion and three or four sledges carrying the annual kamchatkan mail, drew near the foot of the dreaded viliga mountains. owing to deep snow our progress had not been so rapid as we had anticipated, and we were only able to reach on the fifth night a small _yurt_ built to shelter travellers, near the mouth of a river called the topólofka, thirty versts from the viliga. here we camped, drank tea, and stretched ourselves out on the rough plank floor to sleep, knowing that a hard day's work awaited us on the morrow. [illustration: head covering used in stalking seals] chapter xxxv yurt on the topolofka--the valley of tempests--river of the lost--storm bound--escape by the ice-foot--a sleepless night--leet reported dead--yamsk at last "kennan! oh, kennan! turn out! it's day light!" a sleepy grunt and a still more drowsy "is it?" from the pile of furs lying on the rough plank floor betrayed no very lively interest on the part of the prostrate figure in the fact announced, while the heavy, long-drawn breathing which soon succeeded this momentary interruption proved that more active measures must be taken to recall him from the land of dreams. "i say! kennan! wake up! breakfast has been ready this half-hour." the magic word "breakfast" appealed to a stronger feeling than drowsiness, and, thrusting my head out from beneath its covering of furs, i took a sleepy, blinking view of the situation, endeavouring in a feeble sort of way to recollect where i was and how i came there. a bright crackling fire of resinous pine boughs was burning on the square log altar in the centre of the hut, radiating a fierce heat to its remotest corner, and causing the perspiration to stand in great beads on its mouldy logs and rough board ceiling. the smoke rose lazily through the square hole in the roof toward the white, solemn-looking stars, which winked soberly at us between the dark overhanging branches of the larches. mr. leet, who acted as the soyer of our campaign, was standing over me with a slice of bacon impaled on a bowie-knife in one hand, and a poker in the other--both of which insignia of office he was brandishing furiously, with the intention of waking me up more effectually. his frantic gesticulations had the desired result. with a vague impression that i had been shipwrecked on the cannibal islands and was about to be sacrificed to the tutelary deities, i sprang up and rubbed my eyes until i gathered together my scattered senses. mr. leet was in high glee. our travelling companion, the postilion, had manifested for several days an inclination to shirk work and allow us to do all the road-breaking, while he followed comfortably in our tracks, and by this strategic manoeuvre had incurred mr. leet's most implacable hatred. the latter, therefore, had waked the unfortunate man up before he had been asleep five hours, and had deluded him into the belief that the aurora borealis was the first flush of daylight. he had accordingly started off at midnight and was laboriously breaking a road up the steep mountain side through three feet of soft snow, relying upon mr. leet's promise that we would be along before sunrise. at five o'clock, when i got up, the voices of the postilion's men could still be heard shouting to their exhausted dogs near the summit of the mountain. we all breakfasted as slowly as possible, in order to give them plenty of time to break a road for us, and did not finally start until after six o'clock. it was a beautifully clear, still morning when we crossed the mountain above the _yurt_, and wound around through bare open valleys, among high hills, toward the seacoast. the sun had risen over the eastern hill-tops, and the snow glittered as if strewn with diamonds, while the distant peaks of the viliga, appeared-- "bathed in the tenderest purple of distance tinted and shadowed by pencils of air"-- as calm and bright in their snowy majesty as if the suspicion of a storm had never attached to their smooth white slopes and sharp pinnacles. the air, although intensely cold, was clear and bracing; and as our dogs bounded at a gallop over the hard, broken road, the exhilarating motion caused the very blood in our veins "--to dance blithe as the sparkling wine of france." about noon we came out of the mountains upon the sea beach and overtook the postilion, who had stopped to rest his tired dogs. our own being fresh, we again took the lead, and drew rapidly near to the valley of the viliga. i was just mentally congratulating myself upon our good fortune in having clear weather to pass this dreaded point, when my attention was attracted by a curious white cloud or mist, extending from the mouth of the viliga ravine far out over the black open water of the okhotsk sea. wondering what it could be, i pointed it out to our guide, and inquired if it were fog. his face clouded up with anxiety as he glanced at it, and replied laconically, "viliga dooreet," or "the mountains are fooling." this oracular response did not enlighten me very much, and i demanded an explanation. i was then told, to my astonishment and dismay, that the curious white mist which i had taken to be fog was a dense driving cloud of snow, hurled out of the mouth of the ravine by a storm, which had apparently just begun in the upper gorges of the stanavoi range. it would be impossible, our guide said, to cross the valley, and dangerous to attempt it until the wind should subside. i could not see either the impossibility or the danger, and as there was another _yurt_ or shelter-house on the other side of the ravine, i determined to go on and make the attempt at least to cross. where we were the weather was perfectly calm and still; a candle would have burned in the open air without flickering; and i could not realise the tremendous force of the hurricane which, only a mile ahead, was vomiting snow out of the mouth of that ravine and carrying it four miles to sea. seeing that leet and i were determined to cross the valley, our guide shrugged his shoulders expressively, as much as to say, "you will soon regret your haste," and we went on. as we gradually approached the white curtain of mist, we began to feel sharp intermittent puffs of wind and little whirlwinds of snow, which increased constantly in strength and frequency as we drew nearer and nearer to the mouth of the ravine. our guide once more remonstrated with us upon the folly of going deliberately into such a storm as this evidently would be; but leet laughed him to scorn, declaring in broken russian that he had seen storms in the sierra nevadas to which this was not a circumstance--"bolshoi storms, you bet!" but in five minutes more mr. leet himself was ready to admit that this storm on the viliga would not compare unfavourably with anything of the kind that he had ever seen in california. as we rounded the end of a protecting bluff on the edge of the ravine, the gale burst upon us in all its fury, blinding and suffocating us with dense clouds of driving snow, which blotted out instantly the sun and the clear blue sky, and fairly darkened the whole earth. the wind roared as it sometimes does through the cordage of a ship at sea. there was something almost supernatural in the suddenness of the change from bright sunshine and calm still air to this howling, blinding tempest, and i began to feel doubtful myself as to the practicability of crossing the valley. our guide turned with a despairing look to me, as if reproaching me with my obstinacy in coming into the storm against his advice, and then urged on with shouts and blows his cowering dogs. the sockets of the poor brutes' eyes were completely plastered up with snow, and out of many of them were oozing drops of blood; but blind as they were they still struggled on, uttering at intervals short mournful cries, which alarmed me more than the roaring of the storm. in a moment we were at the bottom of the ravine; and before we could check the impetus of our descent we were out on the smooth glare ice of the "propashchina," or "river of the lost," and sweeping rapidly down toward the open water of the okhotsk sea, only a hundred yards below. all our efforts to stop our sledges were at first unavailing against the force of the wind, and i began to understand the nature of the danger to which our guide had alluded. unless we could stop our sledges before we should reach the mouth of the river we must inevitably be blown off the ice into three or four fathoms of water. precisely such a disaster had given the river its ominous name, leet and the cossack paderin, who were alone upon their respective sledges, and who did not get so far from the shore in the first place, finally succeeded with the aid of their spiked sticks in getting back; but the old guide and i were together upon one sledge, and our voluminous fur clothes caught so much wind that our spiked sticks would not stop or hold us, and our dogs could not keep their feet. believing that the sledge must inevitably be blown into the sea if we both clung to it, i finally relinquished my hold and tried to stop myself by sitting down, and then by lying down flat upon my face on the ice; but all was of no avail; my slippery furs took no hold of the smooth, treacherous surface, and i drifted away even faster than before. i had already torn off my mittens, and as i slid at last over a rough place in the ice i succeeded in getting my finger-nails into the little corrugations of the surface and in stopping my perilous drift; but i hardly dared breathe lest i should lose my hold. seeing my situation, leet slid to me the sharp iron-spiked _oerstel_, which is used to check the speed of a sledge in descending hills, and by digging this into the ice at short intervals i crept back to shore, only a short distance above the open water at the mouth of the river, into which my mittens had already gone. our guide was still sliding slowly and at intervals down stream, but paderin went to his assistance with another _oerstel_, and together they brought his sledge once more to land. i would have been quite satisfied now to turn back and get out of the storm; but our guide's blood was up, and cross the valley he would if we lost all our sledges in the sea. he had warned us of the danger and we had insisted upon coming on; we must now take the consequences. as it was evidently impossible to cross the river at this point, we struggled up its left bank in the teeth of the storm almost half a mile, until we reached a bend which put land between us and the open water. here we made a second attempt, and were successful. crossing a low ridge on the west side of the "propashchina," we reached another small stream known as the viliga, at the foot of the viliga mountains. along this there extended a narrow strip of dense timber, and in this timber, somewhere, stood the _yurt_ of which we were in search. our guide seemed to find the road by a sort of instinct, for the drifting clouds of snow hid even our-leading dogs from sight, and all that we could see of the country was the ground on which we stood. about an hour before dark, tired and chilled to the bone, we drew up before a little log hut in the woods, which our guide said was the viliga _yurt_. the last travellers who had occupied it had left the chimney hole open, and it was nearly filled with snow, but we cleared it out as well as we could, built a fire on the ground in the centre, and, regardless of the smoke, crouched around it to drink tea. we had seen nothing of the postilion since noon, and hardly thought it possible that he could reach the _yurt_; but just as it began to grow dark we heard the howling of his dogs in the woods, and in a few moments he made his appearance. our party now numbered nine men--two americans, three russians, and four koraks--and a wild-looking crowd it was, as it squatted around the fire in that low smoke-blackened hut, drinking tea and listening to the howling wind. as there was not room enough for all to sleep inside the _yurt_, the koraks camped out-doors on the snow, and before morning were half buried in a drift. [illustration: the yurt in the "stormy gorge of the viliga" from a painting by george a. frost] all night the wind roared a deep, hoarse bass through the forest which sheltered the _yurt_, and at daylight on the following morning there was no abatement of the storm. we knew that it might blow without intermission in that ravine for two weeks, and we had only four days' dog-food and provisions left. something must be done. the viliga mountains which blocked up the road to yamsk were cut by three gaps or passes, all of which opened into the valley, and in clear weather could be easily found and crossed. in such a storm, however, as the one which had overtaken us, a hundred passes would be of no avail, because the drifting snow hid everything from sight at a distance of thirty feet, and we were as likely to go up the side of a peak as up the right pass, even if we could make our dogs face the storm at all, which was doubtful. after breakfast we held a council of war for the purpose of determining what it would be best to do. our guide thought that our best course would be to go down the viliga river to the coast, and make our way westward, if possible, along what he called the "pripaika"--a narrow strip of sea ice generally found at the water's edge under the cliffs of a precipitous coast line. he could not promise us that this route would be practicable, but he had heard that there was a beach for at least a part of the distance between the viliga and yamsk, and he thought that we might make our way along this beach and the _pripaika_, or ice-foot, to a ravine, twenty-five or thirty miles farther west, which would lead us up on the tundra beyond the mountains. we could at least try this shelf of ice under the cliffs, and if we should find it impassable we could return, while if we went into the mountains in such a blizzard we might never get back. the plan suggested by the guide seemed to me a bold and attractive one and i decided to adopt it. making our way down the river, in clouds of flying snow, we soon reached the coast, and started westward, along a narrow strip of ice-encumbered beach, between the open water of the sea and a long line of black perpendicular cliffs, one hundred and fifty to three hundred feet in height. we were making very fair progress when we found ourselves suddenly confronted by an entirely unexpected and apparently insurmountable obstacle. the beach, as far as we could see to the westward, was completely filled up from the water's edge to a height of seventy-five or a hundred feet by enormous drifts of snow, which had been gradually accumulating there throughout the winter, and which now masked the whole face of the precipice, and left no room for passage between it and the sea. these snow-drifts, by frequent alternations of warm and cold weather, had been rendered almost as hard and slippery as ice, and as they sloped upward toward the tops of the cliffs at an angle of seventy-five or eighty degrees, it was impossible to stand upon them without first cutting places for the feet with an axe. along the face of this smooth, snowy escarpment, which rose directly out of two or three fathoms of water, lay our only route to yamsk. the prospect of getting over it without meeting with some disaster seemed very faint, for the slightest caving away of the snow would tumble us all into the open sea; but as there was no alternative, we fastened our dogs to cakes of ice, distributed our axes and hatchets, threw off our heavy fur coats, and began cutting out a road. we worked hard all day, and by six o'clock in the evening had cut a deep trench three feet in width along the face of the escarpment to a point about a mile and a quarter west of the mouth of the viliga. here we were again stopped, however, by a difficulty infinitely worse than any that we had surmounted. the beach, which had previously extended in one unbroken line along the foot of the cliffs, here suddenly disappeared, and the mass of snow over which we had been cutting a road came to an abrupt termination. unsupported from beneath, the whole escarpment had caved away into the sea, leaving a gap of open water about thirty-five feet in width, out of which rose the black perpendicular wall of the coast. there was no possibility of getting across without the assistance of a pontoon bridge. tired and disheartened, we were compelled to camp on the slope of the escarpment for the night, with no prospect of being able to do anything in the morning except return with all possible speed to the viliga, and abandon the idea of reaching yamsk altogether. a wilder, more dangerous location for a camp than that which we occupied could hardly be found in siberia, and i watched with the greatest uneasiness the signs of the weather as it began to grow dark. the huge sloping snow-drift upon which we stood rose directly out of the water, and, so far as we knew, it might have no other foundation than a narrow strip of ice. if so, the faintest breeze from any direction except north would roll in waves high enough to undermine and break up the whole escarpment, and either precipitate us with an avalanche of snow into the open sea, or leave us clinging like barnacles to the bare face of the precipice, seventy-five feet above it. neither alternative was pleasant to contemplate, and i determined, if possible, to find a place of greater security. leet, with his usual recklessness, dug himself out what he called a "bedroom" in the snow about fifty feet above the water, and promised me "a good night's sleep" if i would accept his hospitality and share his cave; but under the circumstances i thought best to decline. his "bedroom," bed, and bedding might all tumble into the sea before morning, and his "good night's sleep" be indefinitely prolonged. going back a short distance in the direction of the viliga, i finally discovered a place where a small stream had once fallen over the summit of the cliff, and had worn out a steep narrow channel in its face. in the rocky, uneven bed of this little ravine the natives and i stretched ourselves out for the night, our bodies inclined at an angle of forty-five degrees--our heads, of course, up-hill. if the reader can imagine himself camping out on the steep sloping roof of a great cathedral, with a precipice a hundred feet high over his head and three or four fathoms of open water at his feet, he will be able, perhaps, to form some idea of the way in which we spent that dismal night. with the first streak of dawn we were up. while we were gloomily making preparations to return to the viliga, one of the koraks who had gone to take a last look at the gap of open water came hurriedly climbing back, shouting joyfully, "mozhno perryékat, mozhno perryékat!"--"it is possible to cross." the tide, which had risen during the night, had brought in two or three large cakes of broken ice, and had jammed them into the gap in such a manner as to make a rude bridge. fearing, however, that it would not support a very heavy weight, we unloaded all our sledges, carried the loads, sledges, and dogs across separately, loaded up again on the other side, and went on. the worst of our difficulties was past. we still had some road-cutting to do through occasional snow-drifts; but as we went farther and farther to the westward the beach became wider and higher, the ice disappeared, and by night we were thirty versts nearer to our destination. the sea on one side, and the cliffs on the other, still hemmed us in; but on the following day we succeeded in making our escape through the valley of the kánanaga river. the twelfth day of our journey found us on a great steppe called the málkachán, only thirty miles from yamsk; and although our dog-food and provisions were both exhausted, we hoped to reach the settlement late in the night. darkness came on, however, with another blinding snow-storm, in which we again lost our way; and, fearing that we might drive over the edges of the precipices into the sea by which the steppe was bounded on the east, we were finally compelled to stop. we could find no wood for a fire; but even had we succeeded in making a fire, it would have been instantly smothered by the clouds of snow which the furious wind drove across the plain. spreading down our canvas tent upon the ground, and capsizing a heavy dog-sledge upon one edge of it to hold it fast, we crawled under it to get away from the suffocating snow. lying there upon our faces, with the canvas flapping furiously against our backs, we scraped our bread-bag for the last few frozen crumbs which remained, and ate a few scraps of raw meat which mr. leet found on one of the sledges. in the course of fifteen or twenty minutes we noticed that the flappings of the canvas were getting shorter and shorter, and that it seemed to be tightening across our bodies, and upon making an effort to get out we found that we were fastened down. the snow had drifted in such masses upon the edges of the tent and had packed there with such solidity that it could not be moved, and after trying once or twice to break out we concluded to lie still and make the best of our situation. as long as the snow did not bury us entirely, we were better off under the tent than anywhere else, because we were protected from the wind. in half an hour the drift had increased to such an extent that we could no longer turn over, and our supply of air was almost entirely cut off. we must either get out or be suffocated. i had drawn my sheath-knife fifteen minutes before in expectation of such a crisis, and as it was already becoming difficult to breathe, i cut a long slit in the canvas above my head and we crawled out. in an instant eyes and nostrils were completely plastered up with snow, and we gasped for breath as if the stream of a fire-engine had been turned suddenly in our faces. drawing our heads and arms into the bodies of our _kukhlankas_, we squatted down upon the snow to wait for daylight. in a moment i heard mr. leet shouting down into the neck-hole of my fur coat, "what would our mothers say if they could see us now?" i wanted to ask him how this would compare with a gale in his boasted sierra nevadas, but he was gone before i could get my head out, and i heard nothing more from him that night. he went away somewhere in the darkness and squatted down alone upon the snow, to suffer cold, hunger and anxiety until morning. for more than ten hours we sat in this way on that desolate storm-swept plain, without fire, food, or sleep, becoming more and more chilled and exhausted, until it seemed as if daylight would never come. morning dawned at last through gray drifting clouds of snow, and, getting up with stiffened limbs, we made feeble attempts to dig out our buried sledges. but for the unwearied efforts of mr. leet we should hardly have succeeded, as my hands and arms were so benumbed with cold that i could not hold an axe or a shovel, and our drivers, frightened and discouraged, seemed unable to do anything. by mr. leet's individual exertions the sledges were dug out and we started. his brief spasm of energy was the last effort of a strong will to uphold a sinking and exhausted body, and in half an hour he requested to be tied on his sledge. we lashed him on from head to foot with sealskin thongs, covered him up with bearskins, and drove on. in about an hour his driver, padarin, came back to me with a frightened look in his face, and said that mr. leet was dead; that he had shaken him and called him several times, but could get no reply. alarmed and shocked, i sprang from my sledge and ran up to the place where he lay, shouted to him, shook him by the shoulder, and tried to uncover his head, which he had drawn down into the body of his fur coat. in a moment, to my great relief, i heard his voice, saying that he was all right and could hold out, if necessary, until night; that he had not answered padarin because it was too much trouble, but that i need not be alarmed about his safety; and then i thought he added something about "worse storms in the sierra nevadas," which convinced me that he was far from being used up yet. as long as he could insist upon the superiority of californian storms, there was certainly hope. early in the afternoon we reached the yamsk river and, after wandering about for an hour or two in the timber, came upon one of lieutenant arnold's yakut working-parties and were conducted to their camp, only a few miles from the settlement. here we obtained some rye bread and hot tea, warmed our benumbed limbs, and partially cleared the snow out of our clothing. when i saw mr. leet undressed i wondered that he had not died. while squatting out on the ground during the storm of the previous night, snow in great quantities had blown in at his neck, had partially melted with the warmth of his body, and had then frozen again in a mass of ice along his whole spine, and in that condition he had lived to be driven twenty versts. nothing but a strong will and the most intense vitality enabled him to hold out during these last six dismal hours. when we had warmed, rested, and dried ourselves at the camp-fire of the yakuts, we resumed our journey, and late in the afternoon we drove into the settlement of yamsk, after thirteen days of harder experience than usually falls to the lot of siberian travellers, mr. leet so soon recovered his strength and spirits that three days afterwards he started for okhotsk, where the major wished him to take charge of a gang of yakut labourers. the last words that i remember to have ever heard him speak were those which he shouted to me in the storm and darkness of that gloomy night on the málkachán steppe: "what would our mothers say if they could see us now?" the poor fellow was afterwards driven insane by excitements and hardships such as these which i have described, and probably to some extent by this very expedition, and finally committed suicide by shooting himself at one of the lonely siberian settlements on the coast of the okhotsk sea. i have described somewhat in detail this trip to yamsk because it illustrates the darkest side of siberian life and travel. it is not often that one meets with such an experience, or suffers so many hardships in any one journey; but in a country so wild and sparsely populated as siberia, winter travel is necessarily attended with more or less suffering and privation. [illustration: iron skin scraper] chapter xxxvi bright anticipations--a whale-ship signalled--the bark sea breeze--news from the atlantic cable--reported abandonment of the overland line when, in the latter part of march, major abaza returned to yakutsk to complete the organisation and equipment of our yakut labourers, and i to gizhiga to await once more the arrival of vessels from america, the future of the russian-american telegraph company looked much brighter. we had explored and located the whole route of the line, from the amur river to bering sea; we had half a dozen working-parties in the field, and expected to reinforce them soon with six or eight hundred hardy native labourers from yakutsk; we had cut and prepared fifteen or twenty thousand telegraph poles, and were bringing six hundred siberian ponies from yakutsk to distribute them; we had all the wire and insulators for the asiatic division on the ground, as well as an abundant supply of tools and provisions; and we felt more than hopeful that we should be able to put our part of the overland line to st. petersburg in working order before the beginning of . so confident, indeed, were some of our men, that, in the pole-cutting camps, they were singing in chorus every night, to the air of a well known war-song. "in eighteen hundred and sixty-eight hurrah! hurrah! in eighteen hundred and sixty-eight hurrah! hurrah! in eighteen hundred and sixty-eight, the cable will be in a miserable state, and we'll all feel gay when they use it to fish for whales. "in eighteen hundred and sixty-nine hurrah! hurrah! in eighteen hundred and sixty-nine hurrah! hurrah! in eighteen hundred and sixty-nine we're going to finish this overland line; and we'll all feel gay when it brings us good news from home." but it was fated that our next news from home should not be brought by the overland line, and should not be of such a nature as to make any of us "feel gay." on the evening of may , , as i sat trying to draw a topographical map in the little one-story log house which served as the headquarters of the asiatic division, i was interrupted by the sudden and hasty entrance of my friend and comrade mr. lewis, who rushed into the room crying excitedly: "o mr. kennan! did you hear the cannon?" i had not heard it, but i understood instantly the significance of the inquiry. a cannon-shot meant that there was a ship in sight from the beacon-tower at the mouth of the river. we were accustomed, every spring, to get our earliest news from the civilised world through american whaling vessels, which resort at that season of the year to the okhotsk sea. about the middle of may, therefore, we generally sent a couple of cossacks to the harbour at the mouth of the river, with instructions to keep a sharp lookout from the log beacon-tower on the bluff, and fire three cannon-shots the moment they should see a whaler or other vessel cruising in the gulf. in less than ten minutes, the news that there was a vessel in sight from the beacon-tower had reached every house in the village, and a little group of cossacks gathered at the landing-place, where a boat was being prepared to take lewis, robinson, and me to the sea-coast. half an hour later we were gliding swiftly down the river in one of the light skiffs known in that part of siberia as "lodkas." we had a faint hope that the ship which had been signalled would prove to be one of our own vessels; but even if she should turn out to be a whaler, she would at least bring us late news from the outside world, and we felt a burning curiosity to know what had been the result of the second attempt to lay the atlantic cable. had our competitors beaten us, or was there still a fighting chance that we might beat them? we reached the mouth of the river late in the evening, and were met at the landing by one of the cossacks from the beacon-tower. "what ship is it?" i inquired. "we don't know," he replied. "we saw dark smoke, like the smoke of a steamer, off matuga island just before we fired the cannon, but in a little while it blew away and we have seen nothing since." "if it's a whaler trying out oil," said robinson, "we'll find her there in the morning." leaving the cossack to take our baggage out of the _lodka_, we all climbed up to the beacon-tower, with the hope that, as it was still fairly light, we might be able to see with a glass the vessel that had made the smoke; but from the high black cliffs of matuga island on one side of the gulf, to the steep slope of cape catherine on the other, there was nothing to break the horizon line except here and there a field of drifting ice. returning to the cossack barrack, we spread our bearskins and blankets down on the rough plank floor and went disconsolate to bed. early the next morning, i was awakened by one of the cossacks with the welcome news that there was a large square-rigged vessel in the offing, five or six miles beyond matuga island. i climbed hastily up the bluff, and had no difficulty in making out with a glass the masts and sails of a good-sized bark, evidently a whaler, which, although hull down, was apparently cruising back and forth with a light southerly breeze across the gulf. we ate breakfast hastily, put on our fur _kukhlankas_ and caps, and started in a whale-boat under oars for the ship, which was distant about fifteen miles. although the wind was light and the sea comparatively smooth, it was a hard, tedious pull; and we did not get alongside until after ten o'clock. pacing the quarter-deck, as we climbed on board was a good-looking, ruddy-faced, gray-haired man whom i took to be the captain. he evidently thought, from our outer fur dress, that we were only a party of natives come off to trade; and he paid no attention whatever to us until i walked aft and said: "are you the captain of this bark?" at the first word of english, he stopped as if transfixed, stared at me for a moment in silence, and then exclaimed in a tone of profound astonishment: "well! i'll be dod-gasted! has the universal yankee got up here?" "yes, captain," i replied, "he is not only here, but he has been here for two years or more. what bark is this?" "the _sea breeze_, of new bedford, massachusetts," he replied, "and i am captain hamilton. but what are you doing up in this god-forsaken country? have you been shipwrecked?" "no," i said, "we're up here trying to build a telegraph line." "a telegraph line!" he shouted. "well, if that ain't the craziest thing i ever heard of! who's going to telegraph from here?" i explained to him that we were trying to establish telegraphic communication between america and europe by way of alaska, bering strait, and siberia, and asked him if he had never heard of the russian-american telegraph company. "never," he replied. "i didn't know there was such a company; but i've been out two years on a cruise, and i haven't kept up very well with the news." "how about the atlantic cable?" i inquired. "do you know anything about that?" "oh, yes," he replied cheerfully, as if he were giving me the best news in the world, "the cable is laid all right." "does it work?" i asked, with a sinking heart. "works like a snatch-tackle," he responded heartily. "the 'frisco papers are publishing every morning the london news of the day before. i've got a lot of 'em on board that i'll give you. perhaps you'll find something in them about your company." i think the captain must have noticed, from the sudden change in the expression of our faces, that his news about the atlantic cable was a staggering blow to us, for he immediately dropped the subject and suggested the expediency of going below. we all went down into the cosy, well-furnished cabin, where refreshments were set before us by the steward, and where we talked for an hour about the news of the world, from whaling in the south pacific to dog-driving in arctic asia, and from weston's walk across the north american continent to karakozef's attempt to assassinate the tsar. but it was, on our side at least, a perfunctory conversation. the news of the complete success of the atlantic cable was as unexpected as it was disheartening, and it filled our minds to the exclusion of everything else. the world would have no use for an overland telegraph-line through alaska and siberia if it already possessed a working cable between london and new york. we left the hospitable cabin of the _sea breeze_ about noon, and prepared to return to gizhiga. captain hamilton, with warm-hearted generosity, not only gave us all the newspapers and magazines he had on board, but literally filled our boat with potatoes, pumpkins, bananas, oranges, and yams, which he had brought up from the sandwich islands. i think he saw that we were feeling somewhat disheartened, and wanted to cheer us up in the only way he could--by giving us some of the luxuries of civilised life. we had not seen a potato, nor tasted any other fresh vegetable or fruit, in nearly two years. we left the ship reluctantly, at last, giving three cheers and a "tiger" for captain hamilton and the _sea breeze_, as we went over the side. when we had pulled three or four miles away from the bark, lewis suggested that instead of returning at once to the mouth of the river we should go ashore at the nearest point on the coast, and look over the newspapers while the cossacks made a fire and roasted some potatoes. this seemed to us all a good plan, and half an hour later we were sitting around a fire of driftwood on the beach, each of us with a newspaper in one hand and a banana or an orange in the other, and all feeding mind and body simultaneously. the papers were of various dates from september, , to march, , and were so mixed up that it was impossible to follow the course of events chronologically or consecutively. we were not long, however, in ascertaining not only that the new atlantic cable had been successfully laid, but that the broken and abandoned cable of had been picked up in mid-ocean, repaired, and put in perfect working order. i think this discouraged us more than anything else. if cables could be found in the middle of the atlantic, picked up in ten or twelve thousand feet of water, and repaired on the deck of a steamer, the ultimate success of submarine telegraphy was assured, and we might as well pack up our trunks and go home. but there was worse news to come. a few minutes later, lewis, who was reading an old copy of the san francisco _bulletin_, struck his knee violently with his clenched fist and exclaimed; "boys! the jig is up! listen to this! "'special dispatch to the _bulletin_ "'new york, october . "'in consequence of the success of the atlantic cable, all work on the russian-american telegraph line has been stopped and the enterprise has been abandoned.'" "well!" said robinson, after a moment of thoughtful silence, "that seems to settle it. the cable has knocked us out." late in the afternoon, we pulled back, with heavy hearts, to the beacon-tower at the mouth of the river, and on the following day returned to gizhiga, to await the arrival of a vessel from san francisco with an official notification of the abandonment of the enterprise. [illustration: women's knives used in making clothing] chapter xxxvii official confirmation of the bad news--the enterprise abandoned--a voyage to okhotsk--the aurora of the sea on the th of july, the company's bark _onward_ (which should have been named _backward_) arrived at gizhiga with orders to sell all of our stores that were salable; use the proceeds in the payment of our debts; discharge our native labourers; gather up our men, and return to the united states. the atlantic cable had proved to be a complete success, and our company, after sinking about $ , , in the attempt to build an overland line from america to europe, had finally decided to put up with its loss and abandon the undertaking. letters from the directors to major abaza, stated that they would be willing to go on with the work, in spite of the success of the atlantic cable, if the russian government would agree to complete the line on the siberian side of bering strait; but they did not think they should be required, under the circumstances, to do all the work on the american side and half of that on the russian. major abaza, hoping that he could prevail upon the russian minister of ways and communications to take the asiatic division off the hands of the american company, and thus prevent the complete abandonment of the enterprise, decided at once to go to st. petersburg overland. he therefore sailed in the _onward_ with me for okhotsk, intending to disembark there, start for yakutsk on horseback, and send me back in the ship to pick up our working parties along the coast. the last of july found us becalmed, about fifty miles off the harbour and river of okhotsk. i had been playing chess all the evening in the cabin, and it was almost eleven o'clock when the second mate called to me down the companionway to come on deck. wondering if we had taken a favourable slant of wind, i went up. it was one of those warm, still, almost tropical nights, so rarely seen on northern waters, when a profound calm reigns in the moonless heavens, and the hush of absolute repose rests upon the tired, storm-vexed sea. there was not the faintest breath of air to stir even the reef-points of the motionless sails, or roughen the dark, polished mirror of water around the ship. a soft, almost imperceptible haze concealed the line of the far horizon, and blended sky and water into one great hollow sphere of twinkling stars. earth and sea seemed to have passed away, and our motionless ship floated, spell-bound, in vacancy--the only earthly object in an encircling universe of stars and planets. the great luminous band of the milky way seemed to sweep around beneath us in a complete circle of white, misty light, and far down under our keel gleamed the three bright stars in the belt of orion. only when a fish sprang with a little splash out of one of these submarine constellations and shattered it into trembling fragments of broken light could we realise that it was nothing but a mirrored reflection of the heavens above. absorbed in the beauty of the scene, i had forgotten to ask the mate why he had called me on deck, and started with surprise as he touched me on the shoulder and said: "curious thing, ain't it?" "yes," i replied, supposing that he referred to the reflection of the heavens in the water, "it's the most wonderful night i ever saw at sea. i can hardly make myself believe that we _are_ at sea--the ship seems to be hanging in space with a great universe of stars above and below." "what do you suppose makes it?" he inquired. "makes what--the reflection?" "no, that light. don't you see it?" following the direction of his outstretched arm, i noticed, for the first time, a bank of pale, diffused radiance, five or six degrees in height, stretching along the northern horizon from about n.n.w. to e.n.e. and resembling very closely the radiance of a faint aurora. the horizon line could not be distinguished; but the luminous appearance seemed to rise in the haze that hid it from sight. "have you ever seen anything like it before?" i inquired. "never," the mate replied; "but it looks like the northern lights on the water." wondering what could be the nature of this mysterious light, i climbed into the shrouds, in order to get a better view. as i watched it, it suddenly began to lengthen out at both ends, like a rapidly spreading fire, and drew a long curtain of luminous mist around the whole northern horizon. another similar light then appeared in the south-east, and although it was not yet connected with the first, it also seemed to be extending itself laterally, and in a moment the two luminous curtains united, forming a great semicircular band of pale, bluish-white radiance around the heavens, like a celestial equator belting a vast universe of stars. i could form, as yet, no conjecture as to the cause or nature of this strange phenomenon which looked and behaved like an aurora, but which seemed to rise out of the water. after watching it five or ten minutes, i went below to call the captain. hardly had i reached the foot of the companionway when the mate shouted again; "o kennan! come on deck quick!" and rushing hastily up i saw for the first time, in all its glorious splendour, the phosphorescence of the sea. with almost incredible swiftness, a mantle of bluish-white fire had covered nearly all the dark water north of us, and its clearly defined edge wavered and trembled for an instant, like the arch of an aurora, within half a mile of the ship. another lightning-like flash brought it all around us, and we floated, literally, in a sea of liquid radiance. not a single square foot of dark water could be seen, in any direction, from the maintop, and all the rigging of the ship, to the royal yards, was lighted up with a faint, unearthly, blue glare. the ocean looked like a vast plain of snow, illuminated by blue fire and overhung by heavens of almost inky blackness. the milky way disappeared completely in the blaze of light from the sea, and stars of the first magnitude twinkled dimly, as if half hidden by fog. only a moment before, the dark, still water had reflected vividly a whole hemisphere of spangled constellations, and the outlines of the ship's spars were projected as dusky shadows against the milky way. now, the sea was ablaze with opaline light, and the yards and sails were painted in faint tints of blue on a background of ebony. the metamorphosis was sudden and wonderful beyond description! the polar aurora seemed to have left its home in the higher regions of the atmosphere and descended in a sheet of vivid electrical fire upon the ocean. as we stood, silent with amazement, upon the quarter-deck, this sheet of bluish flame suddenly vanished, over at least ten square miles of water, causing, by its almost instantaneous disappearance, a sensation of total blindness, and leaving the sea, for a moment, an abyss of blackness. as the pupils of our eyes, however, gradually dilated, we saw, as before, the dark shining mirror of water around the ship, while far away on the horizon rose the faint luminous appearance which had first attracted our attention, and which was evidently due to the lighting up of the haze by areas of phosphorescent water below the horizon line. in a moment the mate shouted excitedly: "here it comes again!" and again the great tide of fire came sweeping up around the vessel, and we floated in a sea of radiance that extended in every direction beyond the limits of vision. as soon as i had recovered a little from the bewildered amazement into which i was thrown by the first phosphorescent flash, i observed, as closely and carefully as possible, the nature and conditions of the extraordinary phenomenon. in the first place, i satisfied myself beyond question, that the radiance was phosphorescent and not electrical, although it simulated the light of the aurora in the rapidity of its movements of translation from one area to another. when it flashed around the ship the second time, i got down close to the luminous surface and discovered that what seemed, from the deck, to be a mantle of bluish fire was, in reality, a layer of water closely packed with fine bright spangles. it looked like water in which luminous sand was constantly being stirred or churned up. the points of light were so numerous that, at a distance of ten or twelve feet, the eye failed to notice that there was any dark water in the interspaces, and received merely an impression of diffused and unbroken radiance. in the second place, i became convinced that the myriads of microscopic organisms which pervaded the water did not light up their tiny lamps in response to a mechanical shock, such as would be produced by agitation of the medium in which they floated. there was no breeze, at any time, nor was there the faintest indication of a ripple on the glassy surface of the sea. between the flashes of phosphorescence, the polished mirror of dark water was not blurred by so much as a breath. the sudden lighting up of myriads of infusorial lamps over vast areas of unruffled water was not due, therefore, to mechanical agitation, and must have had some other and more subtle cause. what the nature was of the impulse that stimulated whole square miles of floating protoplasm into luminous activity so suddenly as to produce the visual impression of an electric flash, i could not conjecture. the officers of the u. s. revenue cutter _mcculloch_ observed and recorded in bering sea, in august, , a display of phosphorescence which was almost as remarkable as the one i am trying to describe [footnote: _n.y. sun_, nov. .]; but in that case the sea was rough; there were no sudden flashes of appearance and disappearance; and the excitation of the light-bearing organisms may have been due--and probably was due--to mechanical shock. in the third place, i observed that in the intervals between the flashes, when the water was dark, all objects immersed in that water were luminous. the ship's copper was so bright that i could count every tack and seam; the rudder was lighted to its lowest pintle; and medusae, or jelly-fish, drifting past, with slow pulsations, at a depth of ten or twelve feet, looked like submerged moons. it thus appeared that protozoa floating freely in the water lighted their lamps only in response to excitation, of some sort, which affected, almost instantaneously, areas many square miles in extent; while those that were attached to, or in contact with, solid matter kept their lamps lighted all the time. during one of the periods of illumination, which lasted several minutes, i hauled up a bucketful of the phosphorescent liquid and took it into the cabin. nothing whatever could be seen in it by artificial light, but when the light had been removed, the inside of the bucket glowed, although the water itself remained dark. the sea in the vicinity of the ship became phosphorescent three or four times; the sheet of fire in every case, sweeping down upon us from the north at a rate of speed that seemed to be about equal to the speed of sound-waves in air. the duration of the phosphorescence, at each separate appearance, was from a minute and a half to three or four minutes, and it vanished every time with a flash-like movement of translation to another and remoter area. the whole display, so far as we were concerned, was over in about twenty minutes; but long after the sheet of phosphorescence disappeared from the neighbourhood of the ship, we could see it lighting up the overhanging haze as it moved swiftly from place to place beyond the horizon line. at one time, there were three or four such areas of bright water north of us, but as they were below the curve of the earth's convexity we could not see them, and traced them only by the shifting belts or patches of irradiated mist. [illustration: reindeer bridle snow shovel] chapter xxxviii closing up the business--a bargain sale--telegraph teacups reduced--cheap shovels for grave digging--wire fish nets at a sacrifice--our narrowest escape--blown out to sea--saved by the "_onward_" we reached okhotsk about the st of august, and after seeing the major off for st. petersburg, i sailed again in the _onward_ and spent most of the next month in cruising along the coast, picking up our scattered working-parties, and getting on board such stores and material as happened to be accessible and were worth saving. early in september, i returned to gizhiga and proceeded to close up the business and make preparations for final departure. our instructions from the company were to sell all of our stores that were salable and use the proceeds in the payment of our debts. i have no doubt that this seemed to our worthy directors a perfectly feasible scheme, and one likely to bring in a considerable amount of ready money; but, unfortunately, their acquaintance with our environment was very limited, and their plan, from our point of view, was open to several objections. in the first place, although we had at gizhiga fifteen or twenty thousand dollars' worth of unused material, most of it was of such a nature as to be absolutely unsalable in that country. in the second place, the villages of okhotsk, yamsk, and gizhiga, taken together, did not have more than five hundred inhabitants, and it was doubtful whether the whole five hundred could make up a purse of as many rubles, even to ensure their eternal salvation. assuming, therefore, that the natives wanted our crowbars, telegraph poles, and pickaxes they had little or no money with which to pay for them. however orders were orders; and as soon as practicable we opened, in front of our principal storehouse, a sort of international bazaar, and proceeded to dispose of our superfluous goods upon the best terms possible. we put the price of telegraph wire down until that luxury was within the reach of the poorest korak family. we glutted the market with pickaxes and long-handled shovels, which we assured the natives would be useful in burying their dead, and threw in a lot of frozen cucumber pickles and other anti-scorbutics which we warranted to fortify the health of the living. we sold glass insulators by the hundred as patent american teacups, and brackets by the thousand as prepared american kindling-wood. we offered soap and candles as premiums to anybody who would buy our salt pork and dried apples, and taught the natives how to make cooling drinks and hot biscuits, in order to create a demand for our redundant lime-juice and baking-powder. we directed all our energies to the creation of artificial wants in that previously happy and contented community, and flooded the whole adjacent country with articles that were of no more use to the poor natives than ice-boats and mouse-traps would be to the tuaregs of the saharan desert. in short, we dispensed the blessings of civilisation with a free hand. but the result was not as satisfactory as our directors doubtless expected it to be. the market at last refused to absorb any more brackets and pickaxes; telegraph wire did not make as good fish-nets and dog-harnesses as some of our salesmen confidently predicted that it would; and lime-juice and water, as a beverage, even when drunk out of pressed-crystal insulators, beautifully tinted with green, did not seem to commend itself to the aboriginal mind. so we finally had to shut up our store. we had gathered in--if i remember rightly--about three hundred rubles ($ .), which, with the money that major abaza had left us, amounted to something like five hundred. i did not use this cash, however, in the payment of the company's debts. i expected to have to return to the united states through siberia, and i did not propose to put myself in such a position that i should be compelled to defray my travelling expenses by peddling lime-juice, cucumber pickles, telegraph wire, dried apples, glass insulators, and baking-powder along the road. i therefore persuaded the company's creditors, who, fortunately, were not very numerous, to take tea and sugar in satisfaction of their claims, so that i might save all the cash i had for the overland trip from okhotsk to st. petersburg. our business in gizhiga was finally adjusted and settled; our working-parties were all called in; and we were just about to sail in the bark _onward_ for okhotsk, when we were suddenly confronted by the deadliest peril that we had encountered in more than two years of arctic experience. every explorer who goes into a wild, unknown part of the world to make scientific researches, to find a new route for commerce, or to gratify an innate love of adventure, has, now and then, an escape from a violent death which is so extraordinary that he classifies it under the head of "narrow." the peril that he incurs may be momentary in duration, or it may be prolonged for hours, or even days; but in any case, while it lasts it is imminent and deadly. it is something more than ordinary danger--it is peril in which the chances of death are a hundred and of life only one. such peril advances, as a rule, with terrifying swiftness and suddenness; and if one be unaccustomed to danger, he is liable to be beaten down and overwhelmed by the quick and unexpected shock of the catastrophe. he has no time to rally his nervous forces, or to think how he will deal with the emergency. the crisis comes like an instantaneous "vision of sudden death," which paralyses all his faculties before he has a chance to exercise them. swift danger of this kind tests to the utmost a man's inherited or acquired capacity for instinctive and purely automatic action; but as it generally passes before it has been fairly comprehended, it is not so trying, i think, to the nerves and to the character as the danger that is prolonged to the point of full realisation, and that cannot then be averted or lessened by any possible action. it is only when a man has time to understand and appreciate the impending catastrophe, and can do absolutely nothing to avert it, that he fully realises the possibility of death. action of any kind is tonic, and when a man can fight danger with his muscles or his brain, he is roused and excited by the struggle; but when he can do nothing except wait, watch the suspended sword of damocles, and wonder how soon the stroke will come, he must have strong nerves long to endure the strain. just before we sailed from gizhiga in the _onward_, eight of us had an escape from death in which the peril came with great swiftness and suddenness, and was prolonged almost to the extreme limit of nervous endurance. on account of the lateness of the season and the rocky, precipitous, and extremely dangerous character of the coast in the vicinity of gizhiga, the captain of the bark had not deemed it prudent to run into the mouth of the gizhiga river at the point of the long a-shaped gulf, but had anchored on a shoal off the eastern coast, at a distance from the beacon-tower of nearly twenty miles. from our point of view on land, the vessel was entirely out of sight; but i knew where she lay, and did not anticipate any difficulty in getting on board as soon as i should finish my work ashore. i intended to go off to the ship with the last of sandford's party on the morning of september th, but i was detained unexpectedly by the presentation of a number of native claims and other unforeseen matters of business, and when i had finally settled and closed up everything it was four o'clock in the afternoon. in the high latitude of north-eastern siberia a september night shuts in early, and i felt some hesitation about setting out at such an hour, in an open boat, for a vessel lying twenty miles at sea; but i knew that the captain of the _onward_ was very nervous and anxious to get away from that dangerous locality; the wind, which was blowing a fresh breeze off shore, would soon take us down the coast to the vessel's anchorage; and after a moment of indecision i gave the order to start. there were eight men of us, including sandford, bowsher, heck, and four others whose names i cannot now recall. our boat was an open sloop-rigged sail-boat, about twenty-five feet in length, which we had bought from a russian merchant named phillipeus. i had not before that time paid much attention to her, but so far as i knew she was safe and seaworthy. there was some question, however, as to whether she carried ballast enough for her sail-area, and at the last moment, to make sure of being on the safe side, i had two of sandford's men roll down and put on board two barrels of sugar from the company's storehouse. i then bade good-bye to dodd and frost, the comrades who had shared with me so many hardships and perils, took a seat in the stern-sheets of the little sloop, and we were off. it was a dark, gloomy, autumnal evening, and the stiff north-easterly breeze which came to us in freshening gusts over the snow-whitened crest of the stanavoi range had a keen edge, suggestive of approaching winter. the sea, however, was comparatively smooth, and until we got well out into the gulf the idea of possible danger never so much as suggested itself to me. but as we left the shelter of the high, iron-bound coast the wind seemed to increase in strength, the sea began to rise, and the sullen, darkening sky, as the gloom of night gathered about us, gave warning of heavy weather. it would have been prudent, while it was still light, to heave the sloop to and take a reef, if not a double reef, in the mainsail; but heck, who was managing the boat, did not seem to think this necessary, and in another hour, when the necessity of reefing had become apparent to everybody, the sea was so high and dangerous that we did not dare to come about for fear of capsizing, or shipping more green water than we could readily dispose of. so we staggered on before the rising gale, trusting to luck, and hoping every moment that we should catch sight of the _onward's_ lights. it has always seemed to me that the most dangerous point of sailing in a small open boat in a high combing sea is running dead before the wind. when you are sailing close-hauled, you can luff up into a squall, if necessary, or meet a steep, dangerous sea bow on; but when you are scudding you are almost helpless. you can neither luff, nor spill the wind out of the sail by slackening off the sheet, nor put your boat in a position to take a heavy sea safely. the end of your long boom is liable to trip as you roll and wallow through the waves, and every time you rise on the crest of a big comber your rudder comes out of water, and your bow swings around until there is imminent danger of an accidental jibe. heck, who managed our sloop, was a fairly good sailor, but as the wind increased, the darkness thickened, and the sea grew higher and higher, it became evident to me that nothing but unusually good luck would enable us to reach the ship in safety. we were not shipping any water, except now and then a bucketful of foam and spray blown from the crest of a wave; but the boat was yawing in a very dangerous way as she mounted the high, white-capped rollers, and i was afraid that sooner or later she would swing around so far that even with the most skilful steering a jibe would be inevitable. it was very dark; i had lost sight of the land; and i don't know exactly in what part of the gulf we were when the dreaded catastrophe came. the sloop rose on the back of an exceptionally high, combing sea, hung poised for an instant on its crest, and then, with a wide yaw to starboard which the rudder was powerless to check, swooped down sidewise into the hollow, rolling heavily to port and pointing her boom high up into the gale. when i saw the dark outline of the leech of the mainsail waver for an instant, flap once or twice, and then suddenly collapse, i knew what was coming, and shouting at the top of my voice, "look out heck! she'll jibe!" i instinctively threw myself into the bottom of the boat to escape the boom. with a quick, sudden rush, ending in a great crash, the long heavy spar swept across the boat from starboard to port, knocking bowsher overboard and carrying away the mast. the sloop swung around into the trough of the sea, in a tangle of sails, sheets, halyards, and standing rigging; and the next great comber came plump into her, filling her almost to the gunwales with a white smother of foam. i thought for a moment that she had swamped and was sinking; but as i rose to a crouching posture and rubbed the saltwater out of my eyes, i saw that she was less than half full, and that if we did not ship another sea too soon, prompt and energetic bailing might yet keep her afloat. "bail her out, boys! for your lives! with your hats!" i shouted: and began scooping out the water with my fur hood. eight men bailing for life, even with hats and caps, can throw a great deal of water out of a boat in a very short time; and within five or ten minutes the first imminent danger of sinking was over. bowsher, who was a good swimmer and had not been seriously hurt by the boom, climbed back into the boat; we cut away the standing rigging, freed the sloop from the tangle of cordage, and got the water-soaked mainsail on board; and then, tying a corner of this sail to the stump of the mast, we spread it as well as we could, so that it would catch a little wind and give the boat steerage-way. under the influence of this scrap of canvas the sloop swung slowly around, across the seas; the water ceased to come into her; and wringing out our wet caps and clothing, we began to breathe more freely. when the first excitement of the crisis had passed and i recovered my self-possession, i tried to estimate, as coolly as possible, our prospects and our chances. the situation seemed to me almost hopeless. we were in a dismasted boat, without oars, without a compass, without a morsel of food or a mouthful of water, and we were being blown out to sea in a heavy north-easterly gale. it was so dark that we could not see the land on either side of the constantly widening gulf; there was no sign of the _onward_; and in all probability there was not another vessel in any part of the okhotsk sea. the nearest land was eight or ten miles distant; we were drifting farther and farther away from it; and in our disabled and helpless condition there was not the remotest chance of our reaching it. in all probability our sloop would not live through the night in such a gale; and even should she remain afloat until morning, we should then be far out at sea, with nothing to eat or drink, and with no prospect of being picked up. if the wind should hold in the direction in which it was blowing, it would carry us past the _onward_ at a distance of at least three miles; we had no lantern with which to attract the attention of the ship's watch, even should we happen to drift past her within sight; the captain did not know that we were coming off to the bark that night, and would not think of looking out for us; and so far as i could discover, there was not a ray of hope for us in any direction. how long we drifted out in black darkness, and in that tumbling, threatening, foam-crested sea, i do not know. it seemed to me many hours. i had a letter in my pocket which i had written the day before to my mother, and which i had intended to send down to san francisco with the bark. in it i assured her that she need not feel any further anxiety about my safety, because the russian-american telegraph line had been abandoned. i was to be landed by the _onward_ at okhotsk; i was coming home by way of st. petersburg over a good post-road; and i should not be exposed to any more dangers. as i sat there in the dismasted sloop, shivering with cold and drifting out to sea before a howling arctic gale, i remembered this letter, and wondered what my poor mother would think if she could read its contents and at the same time see in a mental vision the situation of the writer. so far as i can remember, there was very little talking among the men during these long, dark hours of suspense. none of us, i think, had any hope; it was hard to make one's voice heard above the roaring of the wind; and we all sat or cowered in the bottom of the boat, waiting for an end which could not be very far away. now and then a heavy sea would break over us, and we would all begin bailing again with our hats; but aside from this there was nothing to be done. it did not seem to me probable that the half-wrecked sloop would live more than three or four hours. the gale was constantly rising, and every few minutes we were lashed with stinging whips of icy spray, as a fierce squall struck the water to windward, scooped off the crests of the waves, and swept them horizontally in dense white clouds across the boat. it must have been about nine o'clock when somebody in the bow shouted excitedly, "i see a light!" "where away?" i cried, half rising from the bottom of the boat in the stern-sheets. "three or four points off the port bow," the voice replied. "are you sure?" i demanded. "i'm not quite sure, but i saw the twinkle of something away over on the matuga island side. it's gone now," the voice added, after a moment's pause; "but i saw something." we all looked eagerly and anxiously in the direction indicated; but strain our vision as we might, we could not see the faintest gleam or twinkle in the impenetrable darkness to leeward. if there was a light visible, in that or in any other direction, it could only be the anchor-light of the _onward_, because both coasts of the gulf were uninhabited; but it seemed to me probable that the man had been deceived by a sparkle of phosphorescence or the gleam of a white foam-crest. for fully five minutes no one spoke, but all stared into the thick gloom ahead. then, suddenly, the same voice cried aloud in a tone of still greater excitement, assurance, and certainty, "there it is again! i knew i saw it! it's a ship's light!" in another moment i caught sight of it myself--a faint, distant, intermittent twinkle on the horizon nearly dead ahead. "it's the anchor-light of the _onward_!" i shouted in fierce excitement. "spread the corner of the mainsail a little more if you can, boys, so as to give her better steerage-way. we've got to make that ship! hold her steady on the light, heck, even if you have to put her in the trough of the sea. we might as well founder as drift past!" the men forward caught up the loose edges of the mainsail and extended it as widely as possible to the gale, clinging to the thwarts and the stump of the mast to avoid being jerked overboard by the bellying canvas. heck brought the sloop's head around so that the light was under our bow, and on we staggered through the dark, storm-lashed turmoil of waters, shipping a sea now and then, but half sailing, half drifting toward the anchored bark. the wind came in such fierce gusts and squalls that one could hardly say from what quarter it was blowing; but, as nearly as i could judge in the thick darkness, it had shifted three or four points to the westward. if such were the case, we had a fair chance of making the ship, which lay nearer the eastern than the western coast of the gulf. "don't let her head fall off any, heck," i cried. "jam her over to the eastward as much as you can, even if the sea comes into her. we can keep her clear with our hats. if we drift past we're gone!" as we approached the bark the light grew rapidly brighter: but i did not realise how near we were until the lantern, which was hanging in the ship's fore-rigging, swung for an instant behind the jib-stay, and the vessel's illuminated cordage suddenly came out in delicate tracery against the black sky, less than a hundred yards away. "there she is!" shouted sandford. "we're close on her!" the bark was pitching furiously to her anchors, and as we drifted rapidly down upon her we could hear the hoarse roar of the gale through her rigging, and see a pale gleam of foam as the sea broke in sheets of spray against her bluff bows. "shall i try to round to abreast of her?" cried heck to me, "or shall i go bang down on her?" "don't take any chances," i shouted. "better strike her, and go to pieces alongside, than miss her and drift past. make ready now to hail her--all together--one,--two,--three! bark aho-o-y! stand by to throw us a line!" but no sound came from the huge black shadow under the pitching lantern save the deep bass roar of the storm through the cordage. we gave one more fierce, inarticulate cry as the dark outline of the bark rose on a sea high above our heads; and then, with a staggering shock and a great crash, the boat struck the ship's bow. what happened in the next minute i hardly know. i have a confused recollection of being thrown violently across a thwart in a white smother of foam; of struggling to my feet and clutching frantically at a wet, black wall, and of hearing some one shout in a wild, despairing voice: "watch ahoy! we're sinking! for god's sake throw us a line!"--but that is all. the water-logged sloop seesawed up and down past the bark's side, one moment rising on a huge comber until i could almost grasp the rail, and the next sinking into a deep hollow between the surges, far below the line of the copper sheathing. we tore the ends of our finger-nails off against the ship's side in trying to stop the boat's drift, and shouted despairingly again and again for help and a line; but our voices were drowned in the roar of the gale, there was no response, and the next sea carried us under the bark's counter. i made one last clutch at the smooth, wet planks; and then, as we drifted astern past the ship, i abandoned hope. the sloop was sinking rapidly,--i was already standing up to my knees in water,--and in thirty seconds more we should be out of sight of the bark, in the dark, tumbling sea to leeward, with no more chance of rescue than if we were drowning in mid-atlantic. suddenly a dark figure in the boat beside me,--i learned afterward that it was bowsher,--tore off his coat and waistcoat and made a bold leap into the sea to windward. he knew that it was certain death to drift out of sight of the bark in that sinking sloop, and he hoped to be able to swim alongside until he should be picked up. i myself had not thought of this before, but i saw instantly that it offered a forlorn hope of escape, and i was just poised in the act of following his example when on the quarter-deck of the bark, already twenty feet away, a white ghost-like figure appeared with uplifted arm, and a hoarse voice shouted, "stand by to catch a line!" it was the _onward's_ second mate. he had heard our cries in his state-room as we drifted under the ship's counter, and had instantly sprung from his berth and rushed on deck in his night-shirt. by the dim light of the binnacle i could just see the coil of rope unwind as it left his hand; but i could not see where it fell; i knew that there would be no time for another throw; and it seemed to me that my heart did not beat again until i heard from the bow of the sloop a cheery shout of "all right! i've got the line! slack off till i make it fast!" in thirty seconds more we were safe. the second mate roused the watch, who had apparently taken refuge in the forecastle from the storm; the sloop was hauled up under the bark's stern; a second line was thrown to bowsher, and one by one we were hoisted, in a sort of improvised breeches-buoy, to the _onward's_ quarterdeck. as i came aboard, coatless, hatless, and shivering from cold and excitement, the captain stared at me in amazement for a moment, and then exclaimed: "good god! mr. kennan, is that you? what possessed you to come off to the ship such a night as this?" "well, captain," i replied, trying to force a smile, "it didn't blow in this way when we started; and we had an accident--carried our mast away." "but," he remonstrated, "it has been blowing great guns ever since dark. we've got two anchors down, and we've been dragging them both. i finally had them buoyed, and told the mate that if they dragged again we'd slip the cables and run out to sea. you might not have found us here at all, and then where would you have been?" "probably at the bottom of the gulf," i replied. "i haven't expected anything else for the last three hours." the ill-fated sloop from which we made this narrow escape was so crushed in her collision with the bark that the sea battered her to pieces in the course of the night, and when i went on deck the next morning, a few ribs and shattered planks, floating awash at the end of the line astern, were all of her that remained. [illustration: war and hunting knives. snowbeaters used for beating snow from the clothing.] chapter xxxix start for st. petersburg route to yakutsk--a tunguse encampment-- crossing the stanavoi mountains--severe cold--fire-lighted smoke pillars--arrival in yakutsk when we reached okhotsk, about the middle of september, i found a letter from major abaza, brought by special courier from yakutsk, directing me to come to st. petersburg by the first winter road. the _onward_ sailed for san francisco at once, carrying back to home and civilisation all of our employees except four, viz., price, schwartz, malchanski, and myself. price intended to accompany me to st. petersburg, while schwartz and malchanski, who were russians, decided to go with us as far as irkutsk, the east-siberian capital. snow fell in sufficient quantities to make good sledging about the th of october; but the rivers did not freeze over so that they could be crossed until two weeks later. on the st of the month, schwartz and malchanski started with three or four light dog-sledges to break a road through the deep, freshly fallen snow, in the direction of the stanavoi mountains, and on the th price and i followed with the heavier baggage and provisions. the whole population of the village turned out to see us off. the long-haired priest, with his cassock flapping about his legs in the keen wind of a wintry morning, stood bareheaded in the street and gave us his farewell blessing; the women, whose hearts we had made glad with american baking-powder and telegraph teacups, waved bright-coloured handkerchiefs to us from their open doors; cries of "good-bye!" "god grant you a fortunate journey!" came to us from the group of fur-clad men who surrounded our sledges; and the air trembled with the incessant howls of a hundred wolfish dogs, as they strained impatiently against their broad sealskin collars. "ai! maxim!" shouted the ispravnik to our leading driver, "are you all ready?" "all ready," was the reply. "well, then, go, with god!" and, amid a chorus of good wishes and good-byes from the crowd, the spiked sticks which held our sledges were removed; the howls instantly ceased as the dogs sprang eagerly into their collars, and the group of fur-clad men, the green, bulbous church domes, and the grey, unpainted log houses of the dreariest village in all siberia vanished behind us forever in a cloud of powdery snow. the so-called "post-road" from kamchatka to st. petersburg, which skirts the okhotsk sea for more than a thousand miles, passes through the village of okhotsk, and then, turning away from the coast, ascends one of the small rivers that rise in the stanavoi mountains; crosses that range at a height of four or five thousand feet; and finally descends into the great valley of the lena. it must not be supposed, however, that this "post-road" resembles anything that we know by that name. the word "road," in north-eastern siberia, is only a verbal symbol standing for an abstraction. the thing symbolised has no more real, tangible existence than a meridian of longitude. it is simply lineal extension in a certain direction. the country back of okhotsk, for a distance of six hundred miles, is an unbroken wilderness of mountains and evergreen forests, sparsely inhabited by wandering tunguses, with here and there a few hardy yakut squirrel hunters. through this wilderness there is not even a trail, and the so-called "road" is only a certain route which is taken by the government postilion who carries the yearly mail to and from kamchatka. the traveller who starts from the okhotsk sea with the intention of going across asia by way of yakutsk and irkutsk must make up his mind to be independent of roads;--at least for the first fifteen hundred miles. the mountain passes, the great rivers, and the post-stations, will determine his general course; but the wilderness through which he must make his way has never been subdued by the axe and spade of civilisation. it is now, as it always has been, a wild, primeval land of snowy mountains, desolate steppes, and shaggy pine forests, through which the great arctic rivers and their tributaries have marked out the only lines of intercommunication. the worst and most difficult part of the post-route between okhotsk and yakutsk, viz., the mountainous part, is maintained by a half-wild tribe of arctic nomads known to the russians as tunguses. living originally, as they did, in skin tents, moving constantly from place to place, and earning a scanty subsistence by breeding reindeer, they were easily persuaded by the russian government to encamp permanently along the route, and furnish reindeer and sledges for the transportation of couriers and the imperial mails, together with such travellers as should be provided with government orders, or "podorozhnayas." in return for this service they were exempted from the annual tax levied by russia upon her other siberian subjects; were supplied with a certain yearly allowance of tea and tobacco; and were authorised to collect from the travellers whom they carried a fare to be computed at the rate of about two and a half cents per mile for every reindeer furnished. between okhotsk and yakutsk, along the line of this post-route, there are seven or eight tunguse encampments, which vary a little in location, from season to season, with the shifting areas of available pasturage, but which are kept as nearly as possible equidistant from one another in a direct line across the stanavoi range. we hoped to make the first post-station on the third day after our departure; but the soft freshly fallen snow so retarded our progress that it was nearly dark on the fourth day before we caught sight of the little group of tunguse tents where we were to exchange our dogs for reindeer. if there be, in "all the white world," as the russians say, anything more hopelessly dreary than one of the tunguse mountain settlements in winter, i have never seen it. away up above the forests, on some elevated plateau, or desolate, storm-swept height, where nothing but berry bushes and arctic moss will grow, stand the four or five small, grey reindeerskin tents which make up the nomad encampment. there are no trees or shrubs around them to shut out a part of the sky, limit the horizon, or afford the least semblance of shelter to the lonely settlement, and there is no wall or palisade to fence in and domesticate for finite purposes a little corner of the infinite. the grey tents seem to stand alone in the great universe of god, with never-ending space and unbounded desolation stretching away from their very doors. take your stand near such an encampment and look at it more closely. the surface of the snowy plain around you, as far as you can see, has been trampled and torn up by reindeer in search of moss. here and there between the tents stand the large sledges upon which the tunguses load their camp-equipage when they move, and in front is a long, low wall, made of symmetrically piled reindeer packs and saddles. a few driving deer wander around, with their noses to the ground, looking for something that they never seem to find; evil-looking ravens--the scavengers of tunguse encampments--flap heavily past with hoarse croaks to a patch of blood-stained snow where a reindeer has recently been slaughtered; and in the foreground, two or three grey, wolfish dogs with cruel, light-coloured eyes, are gnawing at a half-stripped reindeer's head. the thermometer stands at forty-five degrees below zero, fahrenheit, and the breasts of deer, ravens, and dogs are white with frost. the thin smoke from the conical fur tents rises perpendicularly to a great height in the clear, still air; the ghostly mountain peaks in the distance look like white silhouettes on a background of dark steel-blue; and the desolate snow-covered landscape is faintly tinged with a yellow glare by the low-hanging wintry sun. every detail of the scene is strange, wild, arctic,--even to the fur-clad, frost-whitened men who come riding up to the tents astride the shoulders of panting reindeer and salute you with a drawling "zdar-o-o-va!" as they put one end of their balancing poles to the ground and spring from their flat, stirrupless saddles. you can hardly realise that you are in the same active, bustling, money-getting world in which you remember once to have lived. the cold, still atmosphere, the white, barren mountains, and the great lonely wilderness around you are all full of cheerless, depressing suggestions, and have a strange unearthliness which you cannot reconcile or connect with any part of your pre-siberian life. at the first tunguse encampment we took a rest of twenty-four hours, and then, exchanging our dogs for reindeer, we bade good-bye to our okhotsk drivers and, under the guidance of half a dozen bronze-faced tunguses in spotted reindeerskin coats, pushed westward, through snow-choked mountain ravines, toward the river aldan. our progress, for the first two weeks, was slow and fatiguing and attended with difficulties and hardships of almost every possible kind. the tunguse encampments were sometimes three or four days' journey apart; the cold, as we ascended the stanavoi range, steadily increased in intensity until it became so severe as to endanger life, and day after day we plodded wearily on snowshoes ahead of our heavily loaded sledges, breaking a road in three feet of soft snow for our struggling, frost-whitened deer. we made, on an average, about thirty miles a day; but our deer often came in at night completely exhausted, and the sharp ivory goads of our tunguse drivers were red with frozen blood. sometimes we bivouacked at night in a wild mountain gorge and lighted up the snow-laden forest with the red glare of a mighty camp-fire; sometimes we shovelled the drifted snow out of one of the empty _yurts_, or earth-covered cabins, built by the government along the route to shelter its postilions, and took refuge therein from a howling blizzard. hardened as we were by two previous winters of arctic travel, and accustomed as we were to all the vicissitudes of northern life, the crossing of the stanavoi range tried our powers of endurance to the uttermost. for four successive days, near the summit of the pass on the western slope, mercury froze at noon. [footnote: we had only a mercurial thermometer, so that we did not know how much below - ° the temperature was.] the faintest breath of air seared the face like a hot iron; beards became tangled masses of frosty wire; eyelids grew heavy with long snowy fringes which half obscured the sight; and only the most vigorous exercise would force the blood back into the benumbed extremities from which it was constantly being driven by the iron grasp of the cold. schwartz, the oldest member of our party, was brought into a tunguse encampment one night in a state of unconsciousness that would soon have ended in death, and even our hardy native drivers came in with badly frozen hands and faces. the temperature alone would have been sufficient evidence, if evidence were needed, that we were entering the coldest region on the globe--the siberian province of yakutsk. [footnote: in some parts of this province the freezing point of mercury, or about forty degrees below zero fahrenheit, is the average temperature of the three winter months, and eighty-five degrees below zero have sometimes been observed.] in a monotonous routine of walking on snowshoes, riding on reindeer-sledges, camping in the open, or sleeping in smoky tunguse tents, day after day and week after week passed, until at last we approached the valley of the aldan--one of the eastern tributaries of that great arctic river the lena. climbing the last outlying ridge of the stanavoi range, one dark, moonless evening in november, we found ourselves at the head of a wild ravine leading downward into an extensive open plain. away below and in front, outlined against the intense blackness of the hills beyond the valley, rose four or five columns of luminous mist, like pillars of fire in the wilderness of the exodus. "what are those?" i inquired of my tunguse driver. "yakut," was the brief reply. they were columns of smoke, sixty or seventy feet in height, over the chimneys of yakut farmhouses; and they stood so vertically in the cold, motionless air of the arctic night that they were lighted up, to their very summits, by the hearth-fires underneath. as i stood looking at them, there came faintly to my ears the far-away lowing of cattle. "thank god!" i said to malchanski, who at that moment rode up, "we are getting, at last, where they live in houses and keep cows!" no one can fully understand the pleasure that these columns of fire-lighted smoke gave us until he has ridden on dog- or reindeer-sledges, or walked on snowshoes, for twenty interminable days, through an arctic wilderness. it seemed to me a year since our departure from okhotsk; for weeks we had not taken off our heavy armour of furs; mirrors, beds and clean linen were traditions of the remote past; and american civilisation, as we looked back at it across twenty-seven months of barbarism, faded into the unreal imagery of a dream. but the pillars of fire-lighted smoke and the lowing of domestic cattle were a promise of better things. in less than two hours, we were sitting before the glowing fireplace of a comfortable yakut house, with a soft carpet under our feet; real crockery cups of fragrant kiakhta tea on a table beside us, and pictures on the wall over our heads. the house, it is true, had slabs of ice for windows; the carpet was made of deerskins; and the pictures were only woodcuts from _harper's weekly_ and _frank leslie's_; but to us, fresh from the smoky tents of the tunguses, windows, carpets, and pictures, of any kind, were things to be wondered at and admired. between the yakut settlements on the aldan and the town of yakutsk, there was a good post-road--really a road; so, harnessing shaggy white yakut ponies to our okhotsk dog-sledges, we drove swiftly westward, to the unfamiliar music of russian sleigh-bells, changing horses at every post-station and riding from fifteen to eighteen hours out of the twenty-four. on the th of november, after twenty-three days of continuous travel, we reached yakutsk; and there, in the house of a wealthy russian merchant who threw his doors open to us with warm-hearted hospitality, we washed from our bodies the smoke and grime of tunguse tents and _yurts_; put on clean, fresh clothes; ate a well cooked and daintily served supper; drank five tumblers of fragrant overland tea; smoked two manila cheroots; and finally went to bed, excited but happy, in beds that were provided with hair mattresses, fleecy russian blankets, and linen sheets. the sensation of lying without furs and between sheets in a civilised bed was so novel and extraordinary that i lay awake for an hour, trying experiments with that wonderful mattress and luxuriously exploring, with bare feet, the smooth cool expanses of linen sheeting. [illustration: travelling bag made of reindeer skin] chapter xl the greatest horse-express service in the world--equipment for the road--a siberian "send-off"--post travel on the ice--broken sleep--driving into an air-hole--repairing damages--first sight of irkutsk we remained in yakutsk only four days--just long enough to make the necessary preparations for a continuous sleigh-ride of five thousand one hundred and fourteen miles to the nearest railway in european russia. the imperial russian post, by which we purposed to travel from yakutsk to nizhni novgorod, was, at that time, the longest and best organised horse-express service in the world. it employed or drivers, with twice as many _telegas, tarantases_ and sleighs, and kept in readiness for instant use more than , horses, distributed among post-stations, along a route that covered a distance as great as that between new york city and the sandwich islands. if one had the requisite physical endurance, and could travel night and day without stop, it was possible, with a courier's "podorozhnaya" (po-do-rozh'-na-yah), or road-ticket, to go from yakutsk to nizhni novgorod, a distance of miles, in twenty-five days, or only eleven days more than the time occupied by a railway train in covering about the same distance. before the establishment of telegraphic communication between china and russia, imperial couriers, carrying important despatches from peking, often made the distance between irkutsk and st. petersburg-- miles--in sixteen days, with two hundred and twelve changes of horses and drivers. in order to accomplish this feat they had to eat, drink, and sleep in their sleighs and make an average speed-rate of ten miles an hour for nearly four hundred consecutive hours. we did not expect, of course, to travel with such rapidity as this; but we intended to ride night and day, and hoped to reach st. petersburg before the end of the year. with the aid and advice of baron maidel, a russian scientist who had just come over the route that we purposed to follow, price and i bought a large open _pavoska_ or siberian travelling sleigh, which looked like a huge, burlap-covered baby-carriage on runners; had it brought into the courtyard of our house, and proceeded to fit it up for six weeks' occupancy as a bedchamber and sitting-room. first of all, we repacked our luggage in soft, flat, leather pouches, and stowed it away in the bottom of the deep and capacious vehicle as a foundation for our bed. we then covered these flat pouches with a two-foot layer of fragrant hay, to lessen the shock of jolting on a rough road; spread over the hay a big wolfskin sleeping-sack, about seven feet in length and wide enough to hold our two bodies; covered that with two pairs of blankets; and finally lined the whole back part of the sleigh with large, soft, swan's-down pillows. at the foot of the sleeping-sack, under the driver's seat, we stowed away a bag of dried rye-bread, another bag filled with cakes of frozen soup, two or three pounds of tea, a conical loaf of white sugar, half a dozen dried and smoked salmon, and a padded box containing teapot, tea-cannister, sugar-jar, spoons, knives and forks, and two glass tumblers. schwartz; and malchanski bought another _pavoska_ and fitted it up in similar fashion, and on the th of november we obtained from the bureau of posts two _podorozhnayas_, or, as price called them, "ukases," directing every post-station master between yakutsk and irkutsk to furnish us, "by order of his imperial majesty alexander nikolaivitch, autocrat of all the russias," etc., etc., six horses and two drivers to carry us on our way. in every part of the world except siberia it is customary to start on a long journey in the morning. in siberia, however, the proper time is late in the evening, when all your friends can conveniently assemble to "provozhat," or, in colloquial english, give you a send-off. judging from our experience in yakutsk, the siberian custom has the support of sound reason, inasmuch as the amount of drinking involved in the riotous ceremony of "provozhanie" unfits a man for any place except bed, and any occupation more strenuous than slumber. a man could never see his friend off in the morning and then go back to his business. he would see double, if not quadruple, and would hardly be able to speak his native language without a foreign accent. when the horses came from the post-station for us, at ten o'clock on the evening of november th, we had had one dinner and two or three incidental lunches; had "sampled" every kind of beverage that our host had in the house, from vodka and cherry cordial to "john collins" and champagne; had sung all the songs we knew, from "john brown's body" in english to "nastóichka travnáya" in russian; and schwartz and malchanski were ready, apparently, to make a night of it, send the horses back to the station, and have another _provozhanie_ the next day. price and i, however, insisted that the czar's ukase to the station-masters was good only for that evening; that if we didn't take the horses immediately we should have to pay demurrage; that the curfew bell had rung; that the town gates would close at ten thirty sharp; and that if we didn't get under way at once, we should probably be arrested for riotous disturbance of the peace! we put on our _kukhlankas_ and fur hoods at last; shook hands once more all around; and finally got out into the street;--malchanski dragging schwartz off to his sleigh singing the chorus of a russian drinking song that ended in "ras-to-chee'-tel-no! vos-khe-tee'-tel-no! oo-dee-vee'-tel-no!" we then drank a farewell stirrup cup, which our bareheaded host brought out to us after we had taken our seats, and were just about to start, when baron maidel shouted to me, with an air of serious concern, "have you got a club--for the drivers and station-masters?" "no," i replied, "i don't need a club; i can talk to them in the most persuasive russian you ever heard." "akh! neilza!" ("impossible") he exclaimed. "it is impossible to go so! you must have a club! wait a minute!" and he rushed back into the house to get me a bludgeon from his private armory. my driver, meanwhile, who evidently disapproved, on personal grounds, of this suggestion, laid his whip across his horses' backs with a cry of "noo, rebatta!" ("now then, boys") and we dashed away from the house, just as the baron reappeared on the steps brandishing a formidable cudgel and shouting: "pastoy! neilza!" ("stop, it's impossible.") "you can't go without a club!" when we turned a neighbouring corner and lost sight of the house, our host was waving a bottle in one hand and a lighted candle in the other; baron maidel was still gesticulating on the steps, shouting: "neilza! hold on! club! for your drivers! it's impossible to go so!" and the little group of "provozhatters" on the sidewalk were laughing, cheering, and shouting "good-bye! good luck! with god!" we dashed away at a gallop through the snow-drifted streets, past earth-banked _yurts_ whose windows of ice were irradiated with a warm glow by the open fires within; past columns of luminous smoke rising from the wide chimneys of yakut houses; past a red stuccoed church upon whose green, balloon-shaped domes golden stars glittered in the frosty moonlight; past a lonely graveyard on the outskirts of the city; and finally down a gentle decline to the snow-covered river, which had a width of nearly four miles and which stretched away to the westward like a frozen lake surrounded by dark wooded hills. up this great river--the lena--we were to travel on the ice for a distance of nearly a thousand miles, following a sinuous, never-ending line of small evergreen trees, which had been cut in the neighbouring forests and set up at short intervals in the snow, to guide the drivers in storms and to mark out a line of safety around air-holes and between areas of thin ice or stretches of open water. i fell asleep, shortly after leaving yakutsk, but was awakened, two or three hours later, at the first post-station, by the voice of our driver shouting: "ai! boys! out with the horses--lively!" two of us then had to alight from our sleighs, go into the post-station, show our _podorozhnayas_ to the station-master, and superintend the harnessing of two fresh teams. getting back into my fur bag, i lay awake for the next three hours, listening to the jangle of a big bell on the wooden arch over the thill-horse's back, and watching, through frosty eyelashes, the dark outlines of the high wooded shores as they seemed to drift swiftly past us to the eastward. the severest hardship of post travel in eastern siberia in winter is not the cold, but the breaking up of all one's habits of sleep. in the first stages of our journey, when the nights were clear and the river ice was smooth and safe, we made the distances between stations in from two to three hours; and at the end of every such period we were awakened, and had to get out of our warm fur bags into a temperature that was almost always below zero and sometimes forty or fifty degrees below. when we got back into our vehicles and resumed our journey, we were usually cold, and just as we would get warm enough to go to sleep, we would reach another station and again have to turn out. sleeping in short snatches, between shivers, to the accompaniment of a jangling dinner-bell and a driver's shouts, and getting out into an arctic temperature every two or three hours, night and day, for a whole week, reduces one to a very fagged and jaded condition. at the end of the first four days, it seemed to me that i should certainly have to stop somewhere for an unbroken night's rest; but man is an animal that gets accustomed to things, and in the course of a week i became so used to the wild cries of the driver and the jangle of the thill-horse's bell that they no longer disturbed me, and i gradually acquired the habit of sleeping, in brief cat-naps, at all hours of the day and night. as we ascended the river, the moon rose later and later and the nights were often so dark that our drivers had great difficulty in following the line of evergreen trees that marked the road. finally, about five hundred miles from yakutsk, a particularly reckless or self-confident driver got off the road, went ahead at a venture instead of stopping to look for the evergreen trees, and just after midnight drove us into an air-hole, about a quarter of a mile from shore, where the water was thirty feet deep. price and i were fast asleep, and were awakened by the crashing of ice, the snorting of the terrified horses, and the rush of water into the sleigh. i cannot remember how we got out of our fur bags and gained the solid ice. i was so bewildered by sleep and so completely taken by surprise that i must have acted upon blind impulse, without any clear consciousness of what i was doing. from subsequent examination of the air-hole and the sleigh, i concluded that we must have jumped from the widely extended outriggers, which were intended to guard against an accidental capsize, which had a span of ten or twelve feet, and which rested on the broken ice around the margin of the hole in such a way as to prevent the sleigh from becoming completely submerged. but be that as it may, we all got out on the solid ice in some way, and the first thing i remember is standing on the edge of the hole, staring at the swimming, snorting horses, the outlines of whose heads and necks i could just make out, and wondering whether this were not a particularly vivid and terrifying nightmare. for an instant, i could not be absolutely sure that i was awake. in a moment, the other sleigh, which was only a short distance behind, loomed up through the darkness and its driver shouted to our man, "what's the matter?" "oootonoole!" ("we got drowned") was the reply. "get out your ropes, quick, while i run to the shore for some driftwood. the horses will freeze and sink in a few minutes. akh! my god! my god! what a punishment!" and, tearing off his outer fur coat, he started at a run for the shore. i did not know what he expected to do with driftwood, but he seemed to have a clear vital idea of some sort, so price and i rushed away after him. "we must get a tree, or a small log," he explained breathlessly as we overtook him, "so i can crawl out on it and cut the horses loose. but god knows," he added, "whether they'll hold out till we get back. the water is killing cold." after a few minutes on the snowy beach, we found a long, slender tree-trunk that our driver said would do, and began to drag it across the ice. our breath, by this time, was coming in short, panting gasps, and when schwartz, malchanski, and the other driver, who ran to our assistance, took hold of the heavy log, we were on the verge of physical collapse. when we got back to the air-hole, the horses were still swimming feebly, but they were fast becoming chilled and exhausted, and it seemed doubtful whether we should save them. we pushed the log out over the broken edge of the ice, and five of us held it while our driver, with a knife between his teeth and a rope about his shoulders, crawled out on it, cut loose one of the outside horses and fastened the line around its neck. he then crept back, and we all hauled on the line until we dragged the poor beast out by the head. it was very much exhausted and badly scraped by the sharp edge of the ice, but it had strength enough to scramble to its feet. we then cut loose and hauled out in the same way the outside horse on the other side. this one was nearly dead and made no attempt to get up until it had been cruelly flogged, but it struggled to its feet at last. cutting loose the thill-horse was more difficult, as its body was completely submerged and it was hard to get at the rawhide fastening that held the collar, the wooden arch, and the thills together, but our plucky driver succeeded at last, and we dragged the half-frozen animal out. rescue came for him, however, too late. he could not rise to his feet and died, a few moments afterward, from exhaustion and cold. fastening ropes to the half-submerged sleigh and harnessing to it the horses of the other team, we finally pulled that up on the ice. leaving it there for the present, we made traverses back and forth across the river until we found the line of evergreen trees, and then started for the nearest post-station--price and i riding with malchanski and schwartz while our driver followed with the two rescued horses. when we reached the post-station, which was about seven miles away, it was between three and four o'clock in the morning; and, after rousing the station-master and sending a driver with a team of fresh horses after the abandoned sleigh, we drank two or three tumblerfuls of hot tea, brought in blankets and pillows from the sleigh of schwartz and malchanski, and went to bed on the floor. as a result of this misadventure, our homeward progress was stopped, and we had to stay at the village of krestófskaya two days, while we repaired damages. our sleigh, when it came in that morning, was a mass of ice; our fur bag, blankets, pillows, and spare clothing were water-soaked and frozen solid; and the contents of our leather pouches were almost ruined. by distributing our things among half a dozen houses we succeeded in getting them thawed out and dried in time to make another start at the end of the second day; but after that time i did not allow myself to fall asleep at night. we had escaped once, but we might not be so fortunate again, and i decided to watch the line of evergreen bushes myself. when we lost the road in the darkness afterward, as we frequently did, i made the driver stop and searched the river myself on foot until i found it. the danger that i feared was not so much getting drowned as getting wet. in temperatures that were almost continuously below zero, and often twenty or thirty degrees below, a man in water-soaked clothing would freeze to death in a very short time, and there were so many air-holes and areas of thin ice that watchfulness was a matter of vital necessity. day after day and night after night we rode swiftly westward, up a river that was always more than a mile in width and often two or three; past straggling villages of unpainted log houses clinging to the steep sides of the mountainous shores; through splendid precipitous gorges, like those above the iron gate of the danube; along stretches of flat pasture land where shaggy, white yakut ponies were pawing up the snow to get at the withered grass; through good-sized towns like kirinsk and vitimsk, where we began to see signs of occidental civilisation; and finally, past a stern-wheel, ohio-river steamboat, of primitive type, tied up and frozen in near the head of navigation at verkholénsk. "just look at that steamer!" cried price, with an unwonted glow of enthusiasm in his boyish face. "doesn't that look like home?" at verkholénsk we abandoned the lena, which we had followed up almost to its source, and, leaving the ice for the first time in two weeks, we started across country in a line nearly parallel with the western coast of lake baikal. we had been forty-one days on the road from okhotsk; had covered a distance of about miles, and were within a day's ride of irkutsk. one bright sunshiny morning in early december, from the crest of a high hill on the verkholénsk road, we got our first view of the east-siberian capital--a long compact mass of wooden houses with painted window-shutters; white-walled buildings with roofs of metallic green; and picturesque russo-byzantine churches whose snowy towers were crowned with inverted balloons of gold or covered with domes of ultramarine blue spangled with golden stars. long lines of loaded sledges from the mongolian frontier could be seen entering the city from the south; the streets were full of people; flags were flying here and there over the roofs of government buildings; and from the barracks down the river came faintly the music of a regimental band. our driver stopped his horses, took off his hat, and turning to us, with the air of one who owns what he points out, said, proudly, "irkutsk!" if he expected us to be impressed--as he evidently did--he was not disappointed; because irkutsk, at that time and from that point of view, was a very striking and beautiful city. we, moreover, had just come from the desolate moss tundras and wild, lonely forests of arctic asia and were in a state of mind to be impressed by anything that had architectural beauty, or indicated culture, luxury, and wealth. we had seen nothing that even remotely suggested a city in two years and a half; and we felt almost as if we were gothic barbarians gazing at rome. it did not even strike us as particularly funny when our buriat driver informed us seriously that irkutsk was so great a place that its houses had to be numbered in order to enable their owners to find them! to us, fresh from gizhiga, penzhina, and okhotsk, a city with numbered houses was really too remarkable and impressive a thing to be treated with levity, and we therefore received the information with proper awe and in silence. we could share the native feeling, even if numbered houses had once been known to us. twenty minutes later, we dashed into the city at a gallop, as if we were imperial couriers with war news; rushed at break-neck speed past markets, bazaars, telegraph poles, street lamps, big shops with gilded sign-boards, polished droshkies drawn by high-stepping orloff horses, officers in uniform, grey-coated policemen with sabres, and pretty women hooded in white caucasian _bashliks_; and finally drew up with a flourish in front of a comfortable-looking stuccoed hotel--the first one we had seen in more than twenty-nine months. chapter xli a plunge into civilisation--the nobles' ball--shocking language-- shakespeare's english--the great siberian road--passing tea caravans--rapid travel--fifty-seven hundred miles in eleven weeks--arrival in st. petersburg at irkutsk, we plunged suddenly from a semi-barbaric environment into an environment of high civilisation and culture; and our attempts to adjust ourselves to the new and unfamiliar conditions were attended, at first, with not a little embarrassment and discomfort. as we were among the first americans who had been seen in that far eastern capital, and were officers, moreover, of a company with which the russian government itself had been in partnership, we were not only treated with distinguished consideration, but were welcomed everywhere with warm-hearted kindness and hospitality; and we found it necessary at once to exchange calls with high officials; accept invitations to dinner; share the box of the governor-general's chief of staff at the theatre, and go to the weekly ball of the "noble-born" in the hall of the "blagorodnaya sobrania," (assembly of nobles). the first difficulty that we encountered, of course, was the lack of suitable clothing. after two and a half years of campaigning in an arctic wilderness, we had no raiment left that was fit to wear in such a city as irkutsk, and--worse than that--we had little money with which to purchase a new supply. the two hundred and fifty dollars with which we left okhotsk had gradually dribbled away in the defrayment of necessary expenses along the road, and we had barely enough left to pay for a week's stay at the hotel. in this emergency we fell back upon our telegraph-company uniforms. they had been soaked in the lena, frozen into masses of ice, and stretched all out of shape in the process of wringing and drying at krestófskaya; but we got an irkutsk tailor to press them and polish up the tarnished gilt buttons, and after spending most of the money we had left in the purchase of new fur overcoats to replace the dirty, travel-worn _kukhlankas_ in which we had arrived, we got ourselves up in presentable form to call on the governor-general. the severest ordeal through which we had to pass, however, was the dance at the hall of the blagorodnaya sobrania to which we were escorted by general kukel (koo'-kel), the governor-general's chief of staff. the spacious and brilliantly lighted apartment, draped with flags and decorated with evergreens; the polished dancing-floor; the crash and blare of the music furnished by a military band; the beautiful women in rich evening toilettes; and the throng of handsome young officers in showy and diversified uniforms, simply overwhelmed us with feelings of mingled excitement and embarrassment. i felt, myself, like a uniformed eskimo at a charity ball, and should have been glad to skulk in a corner behind the band! all i wanted was an opportunity to watch, unobserved, the brilliant picture of colour and motion, and to feel the thrill of the music as the band swept, with wonderful dash, swing, and precision, through the measures of a spirited polish mazurka. general kukel, however, had other views for us, and not only took us about the hall, introducing us to more beautiful women than we had seen, we thought, in the whole course of our previous existence, but said to every lady, as he presented us: "mr. kennan and mr. price, you know, speak russian perfectly." price, with discretion beyond his years, promptly disclaimed the imputed accomplishment; but i was rash enough to admit that i did have some knowledge of the language in question, and was forthwith drawn into a stream of rapid russian talk by a young woman with sympathetic face and sparkling eyes, who encouraged me to describe dog-sledge travel in north-eastern asia and the vicissitudes of tent life with the wandering koraks. on this conversational ground i felt perfectly at home; and i was succeeding, as i thought, admirably, when the girl suddenly blushed, looked a trifle shocked, and then bit her lip in a manifest effort to restrain a smile of amusement not warranted by anything in the life that i was trying to describe. she was soon afterward carried away by a young cossack officer who asked her to dance, and i was promptly engaged in conversation by another lady, who also wanted "to hear an american talk russian." my self-confidence had been a little shaken by the blush and the amused smile of my previous auditor, but i rallied my intellectual forces, took a firm grip of my russian vocabulary, and, as price would say, "sailed in." but i soon struck another snag. this young woman, too, began to show symptoms of shock, which, in her case, took the form of amazement. i was absolutely sure that there was nothing in the subject-matter of my remarks to bring a blush to the cheek of innocence, or give a shock to the virgin mind of feminine youth, and yet it was perfectly evident that there was something wrong. as soon as i could make my escape, i went to general kukel and said: "will you please tell me, your excellency, what's the matter with my russian?" "what makes you think there's anything the matter with it?" he replied evasively, but with a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. "it doesn't seem to go very well," i said, "in conversation with women. they appear to understand it all right, but it gives them a shock. is my pronunciation so horribly bad?" "you speak russian," he said, "with quite extraordinary fluency, and with a-a-really interesting and engaging accent; but--excuse me please--shall i be entirely frank? you see you have learned the language, under many disadvantages, among the koraks, cossacks, and chukchis of kamchatka and the okhotsk sea coast, and--quite innocently and naturally of course--you have picked up a few words and expressions that are not--well, not--" "not used in polite society," i suggested. "hardly so much as that," he replied deprecatingly. "they're a little queer, that 's all--quaint--bizarre--but it's nothing! nothing at all! all you need is a little study of good models--books, you know--and a few months of city life." "that settles it!" i said. "i talk no more russian to ladies in irkutsk." when, upon my arrival in st. petersburg, i had an opportunity to study the language in books, and to hear it spoken by educated people, i found that the russian i had picked up by kamchatkan camp-fires and in cossack _izbas_ on the coast of the okhotsk sea resembled, in many respects, the english that a russian would acquire in a colorado mining camp, or among the cowboys in montana. it was fluent, but, as general kukel said, "quaint--bizarre," and, at times, exceedingly profane. i was not the only person in irkutsk, however, whose vocabulary was peculiar and whose diction was "quaint" and "bizarre." a day or two after the ball of the blagorodnaya sobrania we received a call from a young russian telegraph operator who had heard of our arrival and who wished to pay his respects to us as brother telegraphers from america. i greeted him cordially in russian; but he began, at once, to speak english, and said that he would prefer to speak that language, for the sake of practice. his pronunciation, although queer, was fairly intelligible, and i had little difficulty in understanding him; but his talk had a strange, mediaeval flavour, due, apparently, to the use of obsolete idioms and words. in the course of half an hour, i became satisfied that he was talking the english of the fifteenth century--the english of shakespeare, beaumont, and fletcher--but how he had learned such english, in the nineteenth century and in the capital of eastern siberia, i could not imagine. i finally asked him how he had managed to get such command of the language in a city where, so far as i knew, there was no english teacher. he replied that the russian government required of its telegraph operators a knowledge of russian and french, and then added two hundred and fifty rubles a year to their salaries for every additional language that they learned. he wanted the two hundred and fifty rubles, so he began the study of english with a small english-french dictionary and an old copy of shakespeare. he got some help in acquiring the pronunciation from educated polish exiles, and from foreigners whom he occasionally met, but, in the main, he had learned the language alone, and by committing to memory dialogues from shakespeare's plays. i described to him my recent experience with russian, and told him that his method was, unquestionably, better than mine. he had learned english from the greatest master of the language that ever lived; while i had picked up my russian from cossack dog-drivers and illiterate kamchadals. he could talk to young women in the eloquent and impassioned words of romeo, while my language was fit for backwoodsmen only. at the end of our first week in irkutsk, we were ready to resume our journey; but we had no money with which to pay our hotel bill, still less our travelling expenses. i had telegraphed to major abaza repeatedly for funds, but had received no reply, and i was finally compelled to go, in humiliation of spirit, to governor general sheláshnikoff, and borrow five hundred rubles. on the th of december, we were again posting furiously along the great siberian road, past caravans, of tea from hankow; detachments of cossacks convoying gold from the placers of the lena; parties of hard-labour convicts on their way to the mines of the trans-baikal; and hundreds of sleighs loaded with the products or manufactures of russia, siberia, and the far east. for the first thousand miles, our progress was retarded and our rest greatly broken--particularly at night--by tea caravans. with the establishment of the winter road, in november, hundreds of low, one-horse sledges, loaded with hide-bound boxes of tea that had come across the desert of gobi from peking, left irkutsk, every day, for nizhni novgorod. they moved in solid caravans, a quarter of a mile to a mile in length, and in every such caravan there were from fifty to two hundred sledges. as the tea-horses went at a slow, plodding walk, their drivers were required, by law, to turn out for private travellers and give the latter the road; but they seldom did anything of the kind. there were only twelve or fifteen of them to a caravan of a hundred sledges; and as they usually curled up on their loads at night and went fast asleep, it was practically impossible to arouse them and get the caravan out of the middle of the road. in order to pass, therefore, we ourselves had to turn out and drive three quarters of a mile, or possibly a mile, through the deep soft snow on one side of the beaten track. this so exasperated our driver that he would give every horse and every sleeping teamster in the whole caravan a slashing cut with his long rawhide whip, shouting, in almost untranslatable russian, "wake up!" (whack.) "get a move on you!" (whack.) "what are you doing in the middle of the road there?" (whack.) "akh! you ungodly tartar pagans!" (whack.) "go to sleep in the middle of the night, will you?" (whack, whack.) meanwhile, the strongly braced outrigger of our _pavoska_, on the caravan side, would strike every one of the tea-sledges, as we passed, and the long series of violent shocks, combined with the rolling and pitching of our vehicle, as it wallowed through the deep snow, would be enough to awaken a man from anything except the last sleep of death. usually, we were aroused by our driver's preliminary shouts when we first came in sight of a caravan; but sometimes we were in such a stupor of sleep that we did not awake until the outrigger collided with the first load of tea and brought us suddenly to consciousness with a half-dazed impression that we had been struck by lightning, or hit by a falling tree. if we had had to undergo this experience only once or twice in the course of the night, it would not have been so bad; but we sometimes passed half a dozen caravans between sunset and dawn; threw every one of them into disorder and confusion with outrigger and whip; and left behind us a wake of russian and tartar profanity almost fiery enough to be luminous in the dark. shortly after leaving tomsk, however, we passed the vanguard of these tea caravans and saw them no more. the road in western siberia was hard and smooth, and the horses were so good that we made very rapid progress with comparatively little discomfort. we stopped only twice a day for meals, and every night found us or miles nearer our destination than we had been the night before. we succeeded in getting across the urals before the end of the year, and on the th of january, after twenty-five days of almost incessant night-and-day travel, we drew up before a hotel in the city of nizhni novgorod, which, at that time, was the eastern terminus of the russian railway system. we sold our sleigh, fur bag, pillows, tea-equipment, and the provisions we had left, for what they would bring--a beggarly sum; took a train the same day for st. petersburg; and reached the russian capital on the th of january, eleven weeks from the okhotsk sea by way of yakutsk, irkutsk, tomsk, tiumen, ekaterineburg, and nizhni novgorod. in the eleven weeks we had changed dogs, reindeer, or horses more than two hundred and sixty times and had made a distance of five thousand seven hundred and fourteen miles, nearly all of it in a single sleigh. [illustration: wooden cup] index a abaza, major s., appointed superintendent of siberian division; forms plan of operations; starts northward from petropavlovsk; scares up a bear; falls ill at lesnoi; leaves gizhiga for okhotsk; orders from; returns to gizhiga; makes trip to anadyrsk; sails for okhotsk; visits yakutsk; comes to yamsk; returns to yakutsk; starts for st. petersburg; letter from. agaricus muscarius, korak intoxicant. air-hole, driving into aklán, river aldan, river amur, river anadyr, river; work on. anadyr river party; finding of; experience of; orders concerning. anadyrsk, village; arrival at; priest's house in; history and description of; climate of; ball at; character of inhabitants; famine at. anadyrsk sickness animals, of kamchatka anóssof, russian commissioner arnold, member of anadyr river party astronomical lectures atlantic cable, failure of first; final success of. aurora borealis; remarkable display of. aurora of the sea avacha, bay avacha, river avacha, village avacha, volcano b "baideras," korak skin boats "balagáns," fish storehouses ball, at anadyrsk; at irkutsk. "ballalaikas," siberian guitars "barabans," korak drums baths, "black," kamchatkan steam baths bear hunts bears bering, monument to, in petropavlovsk berries bickmore, a.s., reference to korak marriage ceremony birds bivouacs, kamchatkan blueberries bollman, merchant in petropavlovsk bordman, w.h. bowsher, member of sandford's party bragan, nicolai, guide bragans, kamchatkan traders british columbia british government, concessions from bulkley, colonel charles s. bush, richard j., becomes member of siberian party; sails for amur river; meeting with, at gizhiga; put in command of northern district; bad news from; night meeting with; experience in summer of buttercups c cable, atlantic, failure of first; final success of camp, a winter camps canoe travel canticle, a driver's christmas, in a storm; in anadyrsk christmas carols chuances chukchis church, greek, architecture and color; services cinquefoil _clara bell_, bark climate clover cold, asiatic pole of; phenomena of; on myan river; lowest temperature observed; in stanavoi mountains collins, p. mcd., suggests overland telegraph to europe congress, of u. s., promises assistance cossack waltz cossacks cows cowslips crimean war, connection of petropavlovsk with crinoline, korak comment on crows d dall, w. h. dances, siberian distance, korak ideas of divide, kamchatkan, crossing of dix, major general, worshipped as a saint dodd, james, engaged as member of party in petropavlovsk; goes to tigil; left in gizhiga dogs, ancestry: endurance; food; sledges; loads; driving of; first experiment in driving; howling of, in chorus; rest; cutting of feet by ice "dole," arctic desert dranka, village dress; of kamchadals; of wandering koraks; of zamutkis and tunguses drunkenness, from poisonous toadstool ducks e eagles english, shakespearian, in irkutsk equipment, in san francisco; in petropavlovsk; in lesnoi; in gizhiga; in anadyrsk; in yakutsk escape, narrowest eskimo-like natives ethnology, of siberian natives evil spirits, propitiation of exploration, plans for f famines fashion-plate, korak comment on field glass, chukchi experiments with fish-hawks fish savings banks flowers, in gizhiga; in petropavlovsk; in kamchatka fluger, german merchant in petropavlovsk fly agaric, as intoxicant food, of kamchadals fort st. michael _frank leslie's_, fashion-plate from; pictures from frazer river fritillaria; bulbs eaten fronefield, american in petropavlovsk frost, george a. fruits, of kamchatka fur trade, of kamchatka g gale, in north pacific geese genal, valley genal, village gilyaks gizhiga, village; arrival at; first days in; departure from; return to, from anadyrsk; spring in; climate of; dancing parties in _golden gate_, bark, wreck of goldsmith, oliver, reference to korak intoxicant grouse "teteer" gulls h _hallie jackson_, brig hamilton, captain of whaling bark _sea breeze_ harchina, village harder, member of anadyr river party _harper's weekly_, pictures from heck, member of sandford's party _herald, n.y._, correspondent of horseback travel horse-express, siberian houses, kamchadal hunter, american in petropavlovsk i _illustrated london news_, as wall paper imperator and operator indian type, of siberian native intoxicant, korak irkutsk, city "ispravnik," local governor of petropavlovsk; of gizhiga; of okhotsk j jelly-fish; luminous "jerusalem," village k kamchadals, character; food; language; music; numbers; physique; religion; sable trapping; summer settlements; transportation kamchatka, animals; berries; birds; climate; first impressions; first view of coast; flowers; fruits; government; mail; population; scenery; topography; transportation; volcanoes kamchatka river; raft, life on; valley of kamchatkan divide, crossing of kamchatkan lily kamchatkan mountains kamenoi kazarefski, village "kazarm," a russian barrack "kedrovnik," see "pine" kennicott, leader of alaskan exploring party kirinsk, town on lena river kluchei, village kluchefskoi volcano knox, colonel t. w., correspondent of _n.y. herald_ kolyma, mosquitoes in korak, village koraks, settled, appearance; experiments with american food; in kamenoi; stupidity and ugliness; yurts koraks, wandering, arrival at first encampment; appearance; character; comment on dress of american woman; food; geographical range; intoxicant; language; marriage ceremony; monotonous life; old and sick killed; pologs; reindeer; relation to chukchis; relieve starving anadyrsk people; religion; social organisation; superstitions; tents koratskoi, volcano krestofskaya, village kristi, village kuil, village of settled koraks kukel, general "kukhlanka" fur overshirt l labrador tea lamutkis land, longing for language, "american"; russian difficulty of learning; grammar of; specimen; experience with, in irkutsk la perouse, monument to, in petropavlovsk lecky, w.h., reference to religion of terror lectures, astronomical leet, american brought by bark _onward_; suicide of lesnoi, village letovies, summer settlements lewis, richard, telegraph operator brought by bark _onward_ lily, kamchatkan "lodkas," siberian skiffs m macrae, leader of anadyr river party macrae and arnold, go with chukchis; no news from; arrive in anadyrsk; experience with chukchis; first winter's work magpies mahood, captain james a. mahood and bush maidel, baron malchanski malqua, village manchus "manyalla," korak bread marriage ceremonies, russian korak matches, koraks see for first time matuga, island maximof, kamchatkan driver medusae; luminous mikina, village milkova, village mirages mongolian type of natives "moroshkas," berries mosquitoes moss steppe mountains, kamchatkan "muk-a-moor," korak intoxicant music, american, in kamchatka; of kamchadals; of greek church; on corvette _varag_ myan, river n nalgim, mountain "nart," siberian dog-sledge _new york herald_, correspondent of nights, in summer nikolaievsk, town nizhni novgorod northern district, famine in; work in norton, forearm of pole-cutting party norton, sound o "oerstel," a spiked stick okhotsk sea; coast of; temperatures of; phosphorescence of okuta, village _olga_, brig, passage engaged on; inspection of; sails from san francisco; life on; sails for amur river _onward_, bark operator and imperator p _palmetto_, bark paren, river "pavoskas," travelling sleighs or sledges penzhina, river penzhina, village penzhinsk gulf petropavlovsk phillippeus, trip down the anadyr; boat of phosphorescence, of the sea pierce, american in petropavlovsk pine, trailing or "kedrovnik" plans, at gizhiga plover "podorozhnaya," order for post-horses "pologs," skin bedrooms pope, leader of alaskan party porte crayon, sketches of, in kamchatka post-road to irkutsk povorotnoi, cape price, telegraph operator, brought by _onward_ primroses "pripaika," ice-foot propashchina, river of the lost "protoks," arms of stream ptarmigan puffin "purgas," blizzards pushchin, village r raft, kamchatkan raft travel raselskoi, volcano ravens reception, kamchatkan reindeer catching; driving; food; guarding; habits; of koraks; of tunguses; stampede; superstition about sale of; uses reindeer koraks, see "koraks, wandering" reindeer-sledge travel religion, of kamchadals; of wandering koraks reveries, seasick river of the lost roads robinson, member of anadyr river party roses, wild route of line routes from kluchei russell and co. russian-american telegraph co. organisation of failure of russian government russian language s sables, trapping; trade in skins _saghalin_, russian supply steamer st. petersburg sale, a bargain salmon, catching and curing; failure of; frozen; dependence of siberians upon samanka mountains samanka river sandford, lieut., foreman of pole-cutting party "sastrugi," permanent drifts of snow scammon, captain, commander of company's fleet scenery of kamchatka scenery, siberian, in winter schwartz _sea breeze_, whaling bark sea life "selánka," kamchatkan soup send-off, a siberian shamanism "shchi," cabbage soup sheláshnikoff, governor-general sherom, village shestakóva, village sidanka, village smith, member of anadyr river party sparrow song spring, in gizhiga squirrel skins stanavoi mountains star-flower "starosta," head man of village steeplechase, to sidanka stock, of western union extension co. storm in northern pacific; on the viliga river; on the málkachán steppe; in gizhiginsk gulf stovepipe, search for; finding of "struganini," frozen fish sugar, used instead of money sulkavoi, captain of port of petropavlovsk sutton, captain of bark _clara bell_ suveilich, volcano swallows swans sword-bearer t "taiyon," korak chief "tarantas," siberian travelling carriage tea, used instead of money "tea caravans," telega, four-wheeled siberian wagon tents, of koraks, life in "teteer," russian grouse thrushes tide, a race with tigil, village time, expedients to pass away tobacco, used instead of money tobézin, captain of steamer, _saghalin_ topolofka, river "topor," russian axe "torbasses," fur boots trances, in anadyrsk sickness trailing-pine. see "pine" transportation, means of, in kamchatka tundras, mossy plains tunguses; encampments turkish type of natives u ural mountains usinova, brook v valerian _varag_, russian corvette verkholénsk, town on lena river victoria viliga, stormy gorge of; mountains villages, kamchatkan, descriptions villuchinski, volcano vitimsk, town on lena river volcanoes of kamchatka vorrebeoffs, kamchatkan traders, w wages, paid yakut laborers wedding, in petropavlovsk; in korak tent western union extension co. western union telegraph co. wheeler, sent to yamsk whymper, book of wild-rose petals, as food women, american, korak comment on dress of work accomplished up to march writing, korak and chukchi, ignorance of y yakuts yakutsk; winter temperatures yamsk, village; trip to, in march "yassak," a tax on furs yolofka, pass yolofka, river, canoe travel on yolofka, village "yukola," dried fish "yurts," asiatic habitations; of settled koraks, z "zimovie," winter settlement zinovief, gregorie, cossack guide transcriber's note: every effort has been made to replicate this text as faithfully as possible, including inconsistent spelling and tenses. some changes have been made. they are listed at the end of the text. the table of contents was created by the transcriber. italic text has been marked with _underscores_. oe ligatures have been expanded. [illustration: _h. corbould._ _w. chevalier._ _he ran every where in person to put a stop to the pillage and slaughter._ _chap. ._] the history _of_ peter the great. [illustration: _h. corbould._ _w. chevalier._ _council him for his own safety, not to pardon me._ _chap. ._] london: engraved for the english classics. published by samuel johnson & son. manchester. the history of peter the great, emperor of russia. from the french of voltaire, by smollett. manchester: s. johnson & son, no. , oldham-street; and , church-st., liverpool. mdcccxlv. contents chapter i. description of russia. ii. continuation of the description of russia, population, finances, armies, customs, religion: state of russia before peter the great. iii. the ancestors of peter the great. iv. john and peter. horrible sedition among the strelitzes. v. administration of the princess sophia. extraordinary quarrel about religion. a conspiracy. vi. the reign of peter the first.--beginning of the grand reformation. vii. congress and treaty with the chinese. viii. expedition to the palus mæotis; conquest of azoph.--the czar sends young gentlemen into foreign countries for improvement. ix. travels of peter the great. x. a conspiracy punished.--the corps of strelitzes abolished, alterations in customs, manners, church, and state. xi. war with sweden.--the battle of narva. xii. resources after the battle of narva. that disaster entirely repaired. peter gains a victory near the same place. the person who was afterwards empress made prisoner at the storming of a town. peter's successes. his triumph at moscow. xiii. reformation at moscow.--further successes.--founding of petersburg.--the czar takes narva, &c. xiv. peter the great keeps possession of all ingria, while charles xii. is triumphant in other places.--rise of menzikoff.--petersburg secured.--the czar executes his designs notwithstanding the victories of the king of sweden. xv. while peter is strengthening his conquests, and improving the police of his dominion, his enemy charles xii. gains several battles: gives laws to poland and saxony, and to augustus, notwithstanding a victory gained by the russians.--augustus resigns the crown, and delivers up patkul, the czar's ambassador.--murder of patkul, who is sentenced to be broke upon the wheel. xvi. attempts made to set up a third king of poland.--charles xii. sets out from saxony with a powerful army, and marches through poland in a victorious manner.--cruelties committed.--conduct of the czar.--successes of the king of sweden, who at length advances towards russia. xvii. charles xii. crosses the boristhenes, penetrates into the ukraine, but concerts his measures badly.--one of his armies is defeated by peter the great: he loses his supply of provisions and ammunition: advances forward through a desert country: his adventures in the ukraine. xviii. battle of pultowa. xix. consequences of the battle of pultowa.--charles xii. takes refuge among the turks.--augustus, whom he had dethroned, recovers his dominions.--conquests of peter the great. xx. campaign of pruth. xxi. conclusion of the affairs of pruth. xxii. marriage of the czarowitz.--the marriage of peter and catherine publicly solemnized.--catherine finds her brother. xxiii. taking of stetin.--descent upon finland.--event of the year . xxiv. successes of peter the great.--return of charles xii. into his own dominions. xxv. state of europe at the return of charles xii. siege of stralsund. xxvi. new travels of the czar. xxvii. continuation of the travels of peter the great.--conspiracy of baron gortz.--reception of the czar in france. xxviii. of the return of the czar to his dominions.--of his politics and occupations. xxix. proceedings against prince alexis petrowitz. xxx. works and establishments in , and the following years. xxxi. of the trade of russia. xxxii. of the laws. xxxiii. of religion. xxxiv. the congress of aland or oeland. death of charles xii., &c. the treaty of nystadt. xxxv. conquests in persia. xxxvi. of the coronation of the empress catherine i. and the death of peter the great. original pieces relative to this history: sentence pronounced against the czarowitz alexis. the peace of nystadt. ordinance of the emperor peter i. for the crowning of the empress catherine. peter the great. chap. i. description of russia. the empire of russia is the largest in the whole globe, extending from west to east upwards of two thousand common leagues of france,[ ] and about eight hundred in its greatest breadth from north to south. it borders upon poland and the frozen sea, and joins to sweden and china. its length from the island of dago, in the westernmost part of livonia, to its most eastern limits, takes in near one hundred and seventy degrees, so that when it is noon in the western parts of the empire, it is nearly midnight in the eastern. its breadth from north to south is three thousand six hundred wersts, which make eight hundred and fifty of our common french leagues. the limits of this country were so little known in the last century, that, in , when it was reported, that the chinese and the russians were at war, and that in order to terminate their differences, the emperor _camhi_ on the one hand, and the czars ivan or john, and peter, on the other, had sent their ministers to meet an embassy within three hundred leagues of pekin, on the frontiers of the two empires, the account was at first treated as a fiction. the country now comprehended under the name of russia, or the russias, is of a greater extent than all the rest of europe, or than ever the roman empire was, or that of darius subdued by alexander; for it contains upwards of one million one hundred thousand square leagues. neither the roman empire, nor that of alexander, contained more than five hundred and fifty thousand each; and there is not a kingdom in europe the twelfth part so extensive as the roman empire; but to make russia as populous, as plentiful, and as well stored with towns as our southern countries, would require whole ages, and a race of monarchs such as peter the great. the english ambassador, who resided at petersburg in , and who had been at madrid, says, in his manuscript relation, that in spain, which is the least populous state in europe, there may be reckoned forty persons to every square mile, and in russia not above five. we shall see in the second chapter, whether this minister was mistaken. marshal vauban, the greatest of engineers, and the best of citizens, computes, that, in france, every square mile contains two hundred inhabitants. these calculations are never very exact, but they serve to shew the amazing disproportion in the population of two different countries. i shall observe here, that from petersburg to pekin, there is hardly one mountain to be met with in the route which the caravans might take through independent tartary, and that from petersburg to the north of france, by the road of dantzic, hamburg, and amsterdam, there is not even a hill of any eminence to be seen. this observation leaves room to doubt of the truth of that theory, which makes the mountains to have been formed by the rolling of the waves of the sea, and supposes all that is at present dry land, to have been for a long time covered with water: but how comes it to pass, that the waves, which, according to the supposition, formed the alps, the pyrenees, and mount taurus, did not likewise form some eminence or hill from normandy to china, which is a winding space of above three thousand leagues? geography, thus considered, may furnish lights to natural philosophy, or at least give room for rational doubts. formerly we called russia by the name of muscovy, from the city of moscow, the capital of that empire, and the residence of the grand dukes: but at present the ancient name of russia prevails. it is not my business in this place to inquire, why the countries from smolensko, to the other side of moscow, were called white russia, or why hubner gives it the name of black, nor for what reason the government of kiow should be named red russia. it is very likely that madies the scythian, who made an irruption into asia, near seven hundred years before our vulgar æra, might have carried his arms into these regions, as gengis-khan and tamerlane did afterwards, and as probably others had done long before madies. every part of antiquity is not deserving of our inquiries; that of the chinese, the indians, the persians, and the egyptians, is ascertained from illustrious and interesting monuments; but these monuments suppose others of a far more ancient date, since it required many ages to teach men the art of transmitting their thoughts by permanent signs, and no less time was required to form a regular language; and yet we have no such monuments even in this polite part of europe. the art of writing was a long time unknown to all the north: the patriarch constantine, who wrote the history of kiow in the russian language, acknowledges, that the use of writing was not known in these countries in the fifth century. let others examine whether the huns, the slavi, and the tartars, formerly led their wandering and famished tribes towards the source of the boristhenes;[ ] my design is to shew what czar peter created, and not to engage in a useless attempt, to clear up the chaos of antiquity. we should always keep in mind, that no family upon earth knows its first founder, and consequently, that no nation knows its first origin. i use the name of russians to designate the inhabitants of this great empire. that of roxolanians, which was formerly given them, would indeed be more sonorous, but we shall conform to the custom of the language in which we write. news-papers and other memoirs have for some time used the word russians; but as this name comes too near to that of prussians, i shall abide by that of russ, which almost all our writers have given them. besides, it appeared to me, that the most extensive people on the earth ought to be known by some appellation that may distinguish them absolutely from all other nations.[ ] this empire is at present divided into sixteen large governments, that will one day be subdivided, when the northern and eastern countries come to be more inhabited. these sixteen governments, which contain several immense provinces are the following:-- livonia. the nearest province to our part of the world is that of livonia, one of the most fruitful in the whole north. in the twelfth century the inhabitants were pagans; at this time certain merchants of bremen and lubeck traded to this country, and a body of religious crusaders, called _port-glaives_, or sword-bearers, who were afterwards incorporated in the teutonic order, made themselves masters of this province in the thirteenth century, at the time when the fury of the crusades armed the christians against every one who was not of their religion. albert, margrave of brandenburg, grand-master of these religious conquerors, made himself sovereign of livonia and of brandenburg-prussia, about the year . from that time, the russians and poles began to dispute for the possession of this province. soon afterwards it was invaded by the swedes, and for a long while continued to be ravaged by these several powers. gustavus adolphus having conquered it, it was then ceded to the swedes in , by the famous treaty of oliva; and, at length, czar peter wrested it from these latter, as will be seen in the course of this history. courland, which joins to livonia, is still in vassalage to poland, though it depends greatly upon russia. these are the western limits of this empire in christendom. _of the governments of_ revel, petersburg, _and_ wyburg. more northward is the government of revel and esthonia. revel was built by the danes in the thirteenth century. the swedes were in possession of this province, from the time that country put itself under the protection of that crown in . this is another of the conquests of peter the great. on the borders of esthonia lies the gulf of finland. to the eastward of this sea, and at the junction of the neva with the lake ladoga,[ ] is situated petersburg, the most modern and best built city in the whole empire, founded by czar peter, in spite of all the united obstacles which opposed its foundation. this city is situated on the bay of kronstat, in the midst of nine rivers, by which its different quarters are divided. in the centre of this city is almost an impregnable fortress, built on an island, formed by the main-stream of the river neva: seven canals are cut from the rivers, and wash the walls of one of the royal palaces of the admiralty, of the dock-yard for the galleys, and of several buildings of manufactories. thirty-five large churches contribute to adorn the city; among which five are allotted for foreigners of the roman catholic, calvinist, and lutheran religions: these are as so many temples raised to toleration, and examples to other nations. there are five palaces; the old one, called the summer palace, situated on the river neva, has a very large and beautiful stone balustrade, which runs all along the river side. the new summer palace near the triumphal gate, is one of the finest pieces of architecture in europe. the admiralty buildings, the school for cadets, the imperial college, the academy of sciences, the exchange, and the merchants' warehouses, are all magnificent structures, and monuments of taste and public utility. the town-house, the public dispensary, where all the vessels are of porcelain, the court magazines, the foundery, the arsenal, the bridges, the markets, the squares, the barracks for the horse and foot guards, contribute at once to the embellishment and safety of the city, which is said to contain at present four hundred thousand souls. in the environs of the city are several villas or country-seats, which surprise all travellers by their magnificence. there is one in particular which has water-works superior to those of versailles. there was nothing of all this in , the whole being then an impassable morass. petersburg is considered as the capital of ingria, a small province subdued by peter i. wyburg, another of his conquests, and that part of finland which was lost, and ceded by the swedes in , make another government. archangel. higher up, proceeding towards the north, is the province of archangel, a country entirely new to the southern nations of europe. it took its name from st. michael, the archangel, under whose patronage it was put long after the russians had embraced christianity, which did not happen till the beginning of the eleventh century; and they were not known to the other nations of europe till the middle of the sixteenth. the english, in , endeavouring to find out a north-east passage to the east indies, chancellor, captain of one of the ships fitted out for this expedition, discovered the port of archangel in the white sea; at that time it was a desert place, having only one convent, and a little church, dedicated to st. michael, the archangel. the english sailing up the river dwina,[ ] arrived at the midland part of the country, and at length at moscow. here they easily made themselves masters of the trade of russia, which was removed from the city of novogorod, where it was carried on by land to this sea-port, which is inaccessible indeed during seven months in the year; but, nevertheless, this trade proved more beneficial to the empire than the fairs of novogorod, that had fallen to decay in consequence of the wars with sweden. the english obtained the privilege of trading thither without paying any duties; a manner of trading which is apparently the most beneficial to all nations. the dutch soon came in for a share of the trade of archangel, then unknown to other nations. long before this time, the genoese and venetians had established a trade with the russians by the mouth of the tanais or don,[ ] where they had built a town called tana. this branch of the italian commerce was destroyed by the ravages of tamerlane, in that part of the world; but that of archangel continued, with great advantages both to the english and dutch, till the time that peter the great opened a passage into his dominions by the baltic sea. russian lapland. _of the government of archangel._ to the west of archangel, and within its government, lies russian lapland, the third part of this country, the other two belonging to sweden and denmark. this is a very large tract, occupying about eight degrees of longitude, and extending in latitude from one polar circle to the north cape[ ]. the natives of this country were confusedly known to the ancients, under the name of troglodytes and northern pigmies; appellations suitable enough to men, who, for the most part, are not above four feet and a half high, and dwell in caverns; they are just the same people they were at that time. they are of a tawny complexion, though the other people of the north are white, and for the most part very low in stature; though their neighbours, and the people of iceland, under the polar circle, are tall: they seem made for their mountainous country, being nimble, squat, and robust; their skins are hard, the better to resist the cold, their thighs and legs are slender, their feet small, to enable them to run more nimbly amongst the rocks, with which their province is covered. they are passionately fond of their own country, which none but themselves can be pleased with, and are able to live no where else. some have affirmed, upon the credit of olaus, that these people were originally natives of finland, and that they removed into lapland, where they diminished in stature: but why might they not as well have made choice of lands less northerly, where the conveniences of life were to be had in greater plenty? how comes it that they differ so totally from their pretended ancestors in features, figure, and complexion? methinks we might, with as great reason, suppose that the grass which grows in lapland is produced from that of denmark, and that the fishes, peculiar to their lakes, came from those of sweden. it is most likely that the laplanders are, like their animals, the produce of their own country, and that nature has made the one for the other. those who inhabit the frontiers of finland, have adopted some of the expressions of their neighbours, as happens to every people: but when two nations give to things of common use, to objects which are continually before their eyes, names absolutely different, it affords a strong presumption, that one of them is not a colony from the other. the finlanders call a bear karu, the laplanders muriet: the sun in the finnish language is called auringa, in the lapland tongue beve. here is not the least analogy. the inhabitants of finland, and swedish lapland, formerly worshipped an idol whom they called iumalac, and since the reign of gustavus adolphus, to whom they are indebted for the appellation of lutherans, they call jesus christ the son of iumalac. the muscovite or russian laplanders, are at present thought to be of the greek church; but those who wander about the mountains of the north cape, are satisfied with adoring one god under certain rude forms, as has been the ancient custom of all the nations called nomades, or wandering nations. this race of people, who are inconsiderable in numbers, have but very few ideas, and are happy in not having more, which would only occasion them to have new wants which they could not satisfy: at present they live contented, and free from diseases, notwithstanding the excessive coldness of their climate; they drink nothing but water, and attain to a great age. the custom imputed to them of entreating strangers to lie with their wives and daughters, which they esteem as an honour done to them, probably arose from a notion of the superiority of strangers, and a desire of amending, by their means, the defects of their own race. this was a custom established amongst the virtuous lacedemonians. a husband would entreat a favour of a comely young man, to give him handsome children, whom he might adopt. jealousy, and the laws, prevent the rest of mankind from giving their wives up to the embraces of another; but the laplanders have few or no laws, and are in all probability, strangers to jealousy. moscow. ascending the river dwina from north to south, we travel up the country till we come to moscow, the capital of the empire. this city was long the centre of the russian dominions, before they were extended on the side of china and persia. moscow, lying in degrees and a half, north latitude, in a warmer climate, and more fruitful soil than that of petersburg, is situated in the midst of a large and delightful plain on the river moskwa, and two lesser rivers, which with the former lose themselves in the occa, and afterwards help to swell the stream of the wolga. this city, in the th century, was only a collection of huts inhabited by a set of miserable wretches, oppressed by the descendants of gengis khan. the kremlin, or ancient palace of the great dukes, was not built till the th century; of such modern date are cities in this part of the world. this palace was built by italian architects, as were several churches in the gothic taste which then prevailed throughout all europe. there are two built by the famous aristotle, of bologna, who flourished in the th century; but the private houses were no better than wooden huts. the first writer who brought us acquainted with moscow, was olearius; who, in , went thither as the companion of an embassy from the duke of holstein. a native of holstein must naturally be struck with wonder at the immense extent of the city of moscow, with its five quarters, especially the magnificent one belonging to the czars, and with the asiatic splendour which then reigned at that court. there was nothing equal to it in germany at that time, nor any city by far so extensive or well peopled. on the contrary, the earl of carlisle, who was ambassador from charles ii. to the czar alexis, in , complains in his relation that he could not meet with any one convenience of life in moscow; no inns on the road, nor refreshments of any kind. one judged as a german, the other as an englishman, and both by comparison. the englishman was shocked to see most of the boyards or muscovite noblemen, sleep upon boards or benches, with only the skins of animals under them; but this was the ancient practice of all nations. the houses, which were almost all built of wood, had scarcely any furniture, few or none of their tables were covered with cloth; there was no pavement in the streets; nothing agreeable; nothing convenient; very few artificers, and those few extremely awkward, and employed only in works of absolute necessity. these people might have passed for spartans, had they been sober. but, on public days, the court displays all the splendour of a persian monarch. the earl says, he could see nothing but gold and precious stones on the robes of the czar and his courtiers. these dresses were not manufactured in the country; and yet, it is evident, that the people might be rendered industrious long before that time. in the reign of the czar boris godonow, the largest bell was cast at moscow, in europe; and in the patriarchal church there were several ornaments in silver, worked in a very curious manner. these pieces of workmanship, which were made under the direction of germans and italians, were only transient efforts. it is daily industry, and the continual exercise of a great number of arts, that makes a nation flourishing. poland, and the neighbouring nations, were at that time very little superior to the russians. the handicraft trades were not in greater perfection in the north of germany, nor were the polite arts much better known, than in the middle of the seventeenth century. though the city of moscow, at that time, had neither the magnificence nor arts of our great cities in europe, yet its circumference of twenty miles; the part called the chinese town, where all the rarities of china are exhibited; the spacious quarter of the kremlin, where stood the palace of the czars; the gilded domes, the lofty and conspicuous turrets; and, lastly, the prodigious number of its inhabitants, amounting to near , . all this together, rendered moscow one of the most considerable cities in the world. theodore, or foedor, eldest brother to peter the great, began to improve moscow. he ordered several large houses to be built of stone, though without any regular architecture. he encouraged the principal persons of his court to build, advancing them sums of money, and furnishing them with materials. he was the first who collected studs of fine horses, and made several useful embellishments. peter, who was attentive to every thing, did not neglect moscow at the time he was building petersburg; for he caused it to be paved, adorned it with noble edifices, and enriched it with manufactures; and, within these few years, m. de showalow, high chamberlain to the empress elizabeth, daughter to peter the great, has founded an university in this city. this is the same person who furnished me with the memorials, from which i have compiled the present history, and who was himself much more capable to have done it, even in the french language, had not his great modesty determined him to resign the task to me, as will evidently appear from his own letters on this subject, which i have deposited in the public library of geneva. smolensko. westward of the duchy of moscow, is that of smolensko, a part of the ancient sarmatia europea. the duchies of moscow and smolensko composed what is properly called white russia. smolensko, which at first belonged to the great dukes of russia, was conquered by the great duke of lithuania, in the beginning of the fifteenth century, and was retaken one hundred years afterwards by its old masters. sigismund iii. king of poland, got possession of it in . the czar alexis, father of peter i. recovered it again in , since which time it has always constituted part of the russian empire. the panegyric of peter the great, pronounced in the academy of sciences at paris, takes notice, that before his time the russians had made no conquests either to the west or south; but this is evidently a mistake. _of the governments of_ novogorod _and_ kiow, _or the_ ukraine. between petersburg and smolensko, lies the province of novogorod;[ ] and is said to be the country in which the ancient _slavi_, or sclavonians, made their first settlements. but from whence came these _slavi_, whose language has spread over all the north-east part of europe? _sla_ signifies a chief, and _slave_ one belonging to a chief. all that we know concerning these ancient _slaves_ is, that they were a race of conquerors; that they built the city of novogorod the great, at the head of a navigable river; and that this city was for a long time in possession of a flourishing trade, and was a potent ally to the hanse towns. czar iwan wassiliawitsch (or john basilowitz) made a conquest of it in , and carried away all its riches, which contributed to the magnificence of the court of moscow, till then almost unknown. to the south of the province of smolensko, we meet with the province of kiow, otherwise called the lesser russia, red russia, or the ukraine, through which runs the dnieper, called by the greeks the boristhenes. the difference of these two names, the one so harsh to pronounce, and the other so melodious, served to shew us, together with a hundred other like instances, the rudeness of all the ancient people of the north, in comparison with the graces of the greek language. kiow, the capital city, formerly kisow, was built by the emperors of constantinople, who made it a colony: here are still to be seen several greek inscriptions upwards of twelve hundred years old. this is the only city of any antiquity in these countries, where men lived so long together without building walls. here it was that the great dukes of russia held their residence in the eleventh century, before the tartars brought it under their subjection. the inhabitants of the ukraine, called cossacks, are a mixture of the ancient roxolanians, sarmatians, and tartars, blended together. rome and constantinople, though so long the mistress of other nations, are not to compare in fertility of country with the ukraine. nature has there exerted her utmost efforts for the service of mankind; but they have not seconded those efforts by industry, living only upon the spontaneous productions of an uncultivated, but fruitful soil, and the exercise of rapine. though fond, to a degree of enthusiasm, of that most valuable of all blessings, liberty; yet they were always in subjection, either to the poles or to the turks, till the year , when they threw themselves into the arms of russia, but with some limitations. at length they were entirely subdued by peter the great. other nations are divided into cities and towns; this into ten regiments. at the head of which is a chief, who used to be elected by a majority of votes, and is called by the name of hetman, or itman. this captain of the nation was not invested with supreme power. at present the itman is a person nominated by the czar, from among the great lords of the court; and is, in fact, no more that the governor of the province, like governors of the _pays d'etats_ in france, that have retained some privileges. at first the inhabitants of this country were all either pagans or mahometans; but, when they entered into the service of poland, they were baptized christians of the roman communion; and now, that they are in the service of russia, they belong to the greek church. amongst these are comprehended the zaporavian cossacks, who are much the same as our bucaniers, or freebooters, living upon rapine. they are distinguished from all other people, by never admitting women to live among them; as the amazons are said never to have admitted any man. the women, whom they make use of for propagation, live upon other islands on the river; they have no marriages amongst them, nor any domestic economy; they inroll the male children in their militia, and leave the girls to the care of their mothers. a brother has frequently children by his sister, and a father by his daughter. they know no other laws than customs, introduced by necessity: however, they make use of some prayers from the greek ritual. fort st. elizabeth has been lately built on the boristhenes, to keep them in awe. they serve as irregulars in the russian armies, and hapless is the fate of those who fall into their hands. _of the governments of_ belgorod, woronitz, _and_ nischgorod. to the north-east of the province of kiow, between the boristhenes and the tanais, or don, is the government of belgorod, which is as large as that of kiow. this is one of the most fruitful provinces of russia, and furnishes poland with a prodigious number of that large cattle known by the name of ukraine oxen. these two provinces are secured from the incursions of the petty tartar tribes, by lines extending from the boristhenes to the tanais, and well furnished with forts and redoubts. farther northward we cross the tanais, and come into the government of worownitz, or veronise, which extends as far as the banks of the palus mæotis. in the neighbourhood of the capital of this province, which is called, by the russians, woronestch, at the mouth of the river of the same name, which falls into the don, peter the great built his first fleet; an undertaking which was at that time entirely new to the inhabitants of these vast dominions. from thence we come to the government of nischgorod, abounding with grain, and is watered by the river wolga. astracan. from the latter province we proceed southward to the kingdom of astracan. this country reaches from forty-three and a half degrees north latitude (in a most delightful climate) to near fifty, including about as many degrees of longitude as of latitude. it is bounded on one side by the caspian sea, and on the other by the mountains of circassia, projecting beyond the caspian, along mount caucasus. it is watered by the great river wolga, the jaick, and several other lesser streams, between which, according to mr. perry, the english engineer, canals might be cut, that would serve as reservoirs to receive the overflowing of the waters; and by that means answer the same purposes as the canals of the nile, and make the soil more fruitful: but to the right and left of the wolga and jaick, this fine country was inhabited, or rather infested, by tartars, who never apply themselves to agriculture, but have always lived as strangers and sojourners upon the face of the earth. the above named engineer, perry, who was employed by peter the great in these parts, found a vast track of land covered with pasture, leguminous plants, cherry and almond trees, and large flocks of wild sheep, who fed in these solitary places, and whose flesh was excellent. the inhabitants of these countries must be conquered and civilized, in order to second the efforts of nature, who has been forced in the climate of petersburg. the kingdom of astracan is a part of the ancient capshak, conquered by gengis-khan, and afterwards by tamerlane, whose dominion extended as far as moscow. the czar, john basilides, grandson of john basilowitz, and the greatest conqueror of all the russian princes, delivered his country from the tartarian yoke, in the sixteenth century, and added the kingdom of astracan to his other conquests, in . astracan is the boundary of asia and europe, and is so situated as to be able to carry on a trade with both; as merchandizes may be conveyed from the caspian sea, up to this town, by means of the wolga. this was one of the grand schemes of peter the great, and has been partly carried into execution. an entire suburb of astracan is inhabited by indians. oremburg. to the south-east of the kingdom of astracan, is a small country, newly planted, called oremburg. the town of this name was built in the year , on the banks of the river jaick. this province is thick covered with hills, that are parts of mount caucasus. the passes in these mountains, and of the rivers that run down from them, are defended by forts raised at equal distances. in this region, formerly uninhabited, the persians come at present, to hide from the rapacity of robbers, such of their effects as have escaped the fury of the civil wars. the city of oremburg is become the asylum of the persians and their riches, and is grown considerable by their calamities. the natives of great bukari come hither to trade, so that it is become the mart of asia. _of the government of_ casan, _and of_ great permia. beyond the wolga and jaick, towards the north, lies the kingdom of casan, which, like that of astracan, fell by partition to one of the sons of gengis khan, and afterwards to a son of tamerlane, and was at length conquered by john basilides. it is still inhabited by a number of mahometan tartars. this vast country stretches as far as siberia; it is allowed to have been formerly very flourishing and rich, and still retains some part of its pristine opulence. a province of this kingdom, called great permia, and since solikam, was the staple for the merchandizes of persia, and the furs of tartary. there has been found in permia a great quantity of the coin of the first caliphs, and some tartarian idols, made of gold;[ ] but these monuments of ancient opulence were found in the midst of barren deserts and extreme poverty, where there were not the least traces of commerce: revolutions of this nature may easily happen to a barren country, seeing they are so soon brought about in the most fruitful provinces. the famous swedish prisoner, strahlemberg, who made such advantageous use of his misfortunes, and who examined those extensive countries with so much attention, was the first who gave an air of probability to a fact, which before had been always thought incredible; namely, concerning the ancient commerce of these provinces. pliny and pomponius mela relate, that, in the reign of augustus, a king of the suevi made a present to metellus celer of some indians who had been cast by a storm upon the coasts bordering on the elbe. but how could inhabitants of india navigate the germanic seas? this adventure was deemed fabulous by all our moderns, especially after the change made in the commerce of our hemisphere by the discovery of the cape of good hope. but formerly it was no more extraordinary to see an indian trading to the parts to the north west of his country, than to see a roman go from india by the way of arabia. the indians went to persia, and thence embarked on the hyrcanian sea, and ascending the rha, now the wolga, got to great permia through the river kama; from whence they might take shipping again on the black sea, or the baltic. they have, in all times, been enterprising men. the tyrians undertook most surprising voyages. if after surveying all these vast provinces, we direct our view towards the east, we shall find the limits of europe and asia again confounded. a new name is wanting for a considerable part of the globe. the ancients divided their known world into europe, asia, and africa: but they had not seen the tenth part of it: hence it happens, that when we pass the palus mæotis we are at a loss to know where europe ends, or asia begins; all that tract of country lying beyond mount taurus was distinguished by the general appellation of scythia, and afterwards by that of tartary. it might not be improper, perhaps, to give the name of terræ arcticæ, or northern lands, to the country extending from the baltic sea to the confines of china; as that of terræ australes, or southern lands, are to that equally extensive part of the world, situated under the antarctic pole, and which serves to counterpoise the globe. _of the governments of_ siberia, _of the_ samojedes, _the_ ostiaks kamtshatka, _&c._ siberia, with the territories beyond it, extends from the frontiers of the provinces of archangel, casan, and astracan, eastward as far as the sea of japan: it joined the southern parts of russia by mount caucasus; from thence, to the country of kamtshatka, is about one thousand two hundred computed french leagues; and from southern tartary, which serves as its boundary, to the frozen sea, about four hundred, which is the least breadth of the russian empire. this country produces the richest furs; and this occasioned the discovery of it in the year . in the sixteenth century, in the reign of the czar, john basilides, and not in that of foedor johannowitz, a private person in the neighbourhood of archangel, named anika, one tolerably rich for his condition of life and country, took notice that certain men of an extraordinary figure, and dressed in a manner unknown to that country, and who spoke a language understood by none but themselves, came every year down a river which falls into the dwina,[ ] and brought martens and black foxes, which they trucked for nails and pieces of glass; just as the first savages of america used to exchange their gold with the spaniards: he caused them to be followed by his sons and servants, as far as their own country. these were the samojedes, a people who seem to resemble the laplanders, but are of a different race. they are, like that people, unacquainted with the use of bread; and like them, they yoke rein-deer to draw their sledges. they live in caverns and huts, amidst the snow;[ ] but in other respects, nature has made a visible difference between this species of men and the laplanders. their upper jaw projects forward, so as to be on a level with their nose, and their ears are placed higher. both the men and women have no hair in any other part of their bodies, but their heads; and their nipple is of a deep black, like ebony. the lapland men and women are distinguished by no such marks. by memoirs sent from these countries so little known, i have been informed, that the author of the curious natural history of the king's garden, is mistaken, where, in speaking of the many curiosities of human nature, he confounds the lapland race with that of the samojedes. there are many more different species of men than is commonly thought. the samojedes, and the hottentots, seem to be the two extremes of our continent; and if we observe the black nipples of the samojedian women, and the apron with which nature has furnished the hottentot females, and which hangs half way down their thighs, we may have some idea of the great variety of our animal species, a variety unknown to those inhabiting great cities, who are generally strangers to almost every thing that is not immediately within their view. the samojedes are as singular in their moral as in their physical distinctions; they pay no worship to the supreme being; they border upon manicheism, or rather upon the religion of the ancient magi in this one point, that they acknowledge a good and an evil principle. the horrible climate they inhabit may in some measure excuse this belief, which is of such ancient date, and so natural to those who are ignorant and unhappy. theft, or murder, is never heard of amongst them; being in a manner devoid of passions, they are strangers to injustice; they have no terms in their language to denote vice and virtue, their extreme simplicity has not yet permitted them to form abstract ideas, they are wholly guided by pensation, and this is perhaps an incontestable proof that men naturally love justice, when not blinded by inordinate passions. some of these savages were prevailed on to suffer themselves to be carried to moscow, where many things they saw struck them with admiration. they gazed upon the emperor as their god, and voluntarily engaged for themselves and countrymen a present of two martens, or sables, every year for each inhabitant. colonies were soon settled beyond the oby,[ ] and the irtis,[ ] and some forts built. in the year , a cossack officer was sent into this country, who conquered it for the czar with only a few soldiers and some artillery, as cortez did mexico; but he only made a conquest of barren deserts. in sailing up the oby to the junction of the river irtis with the tobol, they found a petty settlement, which they converted into the town of tobol,[ ] now the capital of siberia, and a considerable place. who could imagine that this country was for a long time the residence of those very huns, who under attila carried their depredations as far as the gates of rome, and that these huns came from the north of china? the usbeck tartars succeeded the huns, and the russians the usbecks. the possession of these savage countries has been disputed with as much murderous fury, as that of the most fruitful provinces. siberia was formerly better peopled than it is at present, especially towards the southern parts; if we may judge from the rivers and sepulchral monuments. all this part of the world, from the sixtieth degree of latitude, or thereabouts, as far as those mountains of perpetual ice which border the north seas, is totally different from the regions of the temperate zone, the earth produces neither the same plants, nor the same animals, nor are there the same sort of fishes in their lakes and rivers. below the country of the samojedes lies that of the ostiaks, along the river oby. these people have no resemblance in any respect with the samojedes, save that like them and all the first race of men, they are hunters, fishermen, and shepherds; some of them have no religion, not being formed into any society, and the others who live together in herds or clans, have a kind of worship, and pray to the principal object of their wants; they adore the skin of a sheep, because this creature is of all others the most serviceable to them; just as the egyptian husbandmen made choice of an ox, as an emblem of the deity who created that creature for the use of man. the ostiaks have likewise other idols, whose origin and worship are as little deserving our notice as their worshippers. there were some converts to christianity made amongst them in the year ; but these, like the lowest of our peasants, are christians without knowing what they profess. several writers pretend that these people were natives of great permia, but as great permia is in a manner a desert, how comes it that its inhabitants should settle themselves at such a distance, and so inconveniently? this is a difficulty not worth clearing up. every nation which has not cultivated the polite arts, deserves to remain in obscurity. in the country of the ostiaks in particular, and amongst their neighbours the burates and jakutians, they often discover a kind of ivory under ground, the nature of which is as yet unknown. some take it to be a sort of fossil, and others the tooth of a species of elephants, the breed of which have been destroyed: but where is the country that does not afford some natural productions, which at once astonish and confound philosophy. several mountains in this country abound with the amianthes or asbestos, a kind of incombustible flax, of which a sort of cloth and paper is sometimes made. to the south of the ostiaks are the burates, another people, who have not yet been made christians. eastward there are several hordes, whom the russians have not as yet entirely subdued. none of these people have the least knowledge of the calendar: they reckon their time by snows, and not by the apparent motion of the sun: as it snows regularly, and for a long time every winter, they say, 'i am so many snows old,' just as we say, i am so many years. and here i must relate the accounts given by the swedish officer strahlemberg, who was taken prisoner in the battle of pultowa, and lived fifteen years in siberia, and made the entire tour of that country. he says, that there are still some remains of an ancient people, whose skin is spotted or variegated with different colours, and that he himself had seen some of them, and the fact has been confirmed to me by russians born at tobolsky. the variety of the human species seems to be greatly diminished, as we find very few of these extraordinary people, and they have probably been exterminated by some other race: for instance there are very few albinos, or white moors; one of them was presented to the academy of sciences at paris, which i saw. it is the same with respect to several other species of animals which are rare. as to the borandians, of whom mention is made so frequently in the learned history of the king's garden, my memoirs say, that this race of people is entirely unknown to the russians. all the southern part of these countries is peopled by numerous hordes of tartars. the ancient turks came from this part of tartary to conquer these extensive countries, of which they are at present in possession. the calmucs and monguls are the very scythians who, under madies, made themselves masters of upper asia, and conquered cyaxares, king of the medes. they are the men, whom gengis khan and his sons led afterwards as far as germany, and was termed the mogul empire under tamerlane. these people afford a lively instance of the vicissitudes which have happened to all nations; some of their hordes, so far from being formidable now, are become vassals to russia. among these is a nation of calmucs, dwelling between siberia and the caspian sea, where, in the year , there was discovered a subterraneous house of stone, with urns, lamps, earrings, an equestrian statue of an oriental prince, with a diadem on his head, two women seated on thrones, and a roll of manuscripts, which were sent by peter the great to the academy of inscriptions at paris, and proved to be written in the thibet language: all these are striking proofs, that the liberal arts formerly resided in this now barbarous country, and are lasting evidences of the truth of what peter the great was wont several times to say, viz. that the arts had made the tour of the globe. the last province is kamtshatka, the most eastern part of the continent. the inhabitants were absolutely void of all religion when they were first discovered. the north part of this country likewise affords fine furs, with which the inhabitants clothed themselves in winter, though they went naked all the summer season. the first discoverers were surprised to find in the southern parts men with long beards, while in the northern parts, from the country of the samojedes, as far as the mouth of the river amur, they have no more beards than the americans. thus, in the empire of russia, there is a greater number of different species, more singularities, and a greater diversity of manners and customs, than in any country in the known world. the first discovery of this country was made by a cossack officer, who went by land from siberia to kamtshatka, in , by order of peter the great, who, notwithstanding his misfortune at narva, still continued to extend his care from one extremity of the continent to the other. afterwards, in , some time before death surprised him, in the midst of his great exploits, he sent captain bering, a dane, with express orders to find out, if possible, a passage by the sea of kamtshatka, to the coast of america. bering did not succeed in his first attempt; but the empress anne sent him out again in . m. spengenberg, captain of a ship, his associate in this voyage, set out the first from kamtshatka, but could not put to sea till the year , so much time was taken up in getting to the port where they were to embark, in building and fitting out the ships, and providing the necessaries. spengenberg sailed as far as the north part of japan, through a streight, formed by a long chain of islands, and returned without having discovered the passage. in , bering cruised all over this sea, in company with de lisle de la croyere, the astronomer, of the same family of l'isle, which has produced such excellent geographers: another captain likewise went upon the same discovery. they both made the coast of america, to the northward of california. thus the north-east passage, so long sought after, was at length discovered, but there were no refreshments to be met with in those barren coasts. their fresh water failed them, and part of the crew perished with the scurvy. they saw the northern bank of california for above a hundred miles, and saw some leathern canoes, with just such a sort of people in them as the canadians. all their endeavours however proved fruitless: bering ended his life in an island, to which he gave his name. the other captain, happening to be closer in with the californian coast, sent ten of his people on shore, who never returned. the captain, after waiting for them in vain, found himself obliged to return back to kamtshatka, and de lisle died as he was going on shore. such are the disasters that have generally attended every new attempt upon the northern seas. but what advantages may yet arise from these powerful and dangerous discoveries, time alone can prove. we have now described all the different provinces that compose the russian dominions, from finland to the sea of japan. the largest parts of this empire have been all united at different times, as has been the case in all other kingdoms in the world. the scythians, huns, massagetes, slavians, cimbrians, getes, and sarmatians, are now subjects of the czar. the russians, properly so called, are the ancient roxolani or slavi. upon reflection, we shall find that most states were formed in the same manner. the french are an assemblage of goths, of danes called normands, of northern germans, called burgundians; of franks, allmans, and some romans, mixed with the ancient celtæ. in rome and italy there are several families descended from the people of the north, but none that we know of from the ancient romans. the supreme pontiff is frequently the offspring of a lombard, a goth, a teuton, or a cimbrian. the spaniards are a race of arabs, carthaginians, jews, tyrians, visigoths, and vandals, incorporated with the ancient inhabitants of the country. when nations are thus intermixed, it is a long time before they are civilized, or even before their language is formed. some, indeed, receive these sooner, others later. polity and the liberal arts are so difficult to establish, and the new raised structure is so often destroyed by revolutions, that we may wonder all nations are not so barbarous as tartars. chap. ii. continuation of the description of russia, population, finances, armies, customs, religion: state of russia before peter the great. the more civilized a country is, the better it is peopled. thus china and india are more populous than any other empires, because, after a multitude of revolutions, which changed the face of sublunary affairs, these two nations made the earliest establishments in civil society: the antiquity of their government, which has subsisted upwards of four thousand years, supposes, as we have already observed, many essays and efforts in preceding ages. the russians came very late; but the arts having been introduced amongst them in their full perfection, it has happened, that they have made more progress in fifty years, than any other nation had done before them in five hundred. the country is far from being populous, in proportion to its extent; but, such as it is, it has as great a number of inhabitants as any other state in christendom. from the capitation lists, and the register of merchants, artificers, and male peasants, i might safely assert, that russia, at present, contains at least twenty-four millions of male inhabitants: of these twenty-four millions, the greatest part are villains or bondmen, as in poland, several provinces of germany, and formerly throughout all europe. the estate of a gentleman in russia and poland is computed, not by his increase in money, but by the number of his slaves. the following is a list, taken in , of all the males who paid the capitation or poll-tax:-- merchants or tradesmen handicrafts peasants incorporated with the merchants and handicrafts peasants called odonoskis, who contribute to maintain the militia others who do not contribute thereto workmen of different trades, whose parents are not known others who are not incorporated with the companies of tradesmen peasants immediately dependent on the crown, about persons employed in the mines belonging to the crown, partly christians, partly mahometans and pagans other peasants belonging to the crown, who work in the mines, and in private manufactories new converts to the greek church tartars and ostiaks (peasants) mourses, tartars, mordauts, and others, whether pagans or christians, employed by the admiralty tartars subject to contribution, called tepteris, bobilitz, &c. bondmen to several merchants, and other privileged persons, who though not landholders, are allowed to have slaves peasants in the lands set apart for the support of the crown peasants on the lands belonging to her majesty, independently of the rights of the crown peasants on the lands confiscated to the crown bondmen belonging to the assembly of the clergy, and who defray other expenses bondmen belonging to gentlemen bondmen belonging to bishops bondmen belonging to convents, whose numbers were reduced by peter the great bondmen belonging to cathedral and parish churches peasants employed as labourers in the docks of the admiralty, or in other public works, about labourers in the mines, and in private manufactures peasants on the lands assigned to the principal manufactures labourers in the mines belonging to the crown bastards brought up by the clergy sectaries called raskolniky ------- total ------- here we have a round number of six millions six hundred forty-six thousand three hundred and ninety male persons, who pay the poll-tax. in this number are included boys and old men, but girls and women are not reckoned, nor boys born between the making of one register of the lands and another. now, if we only reckon triple the number of heads subject to be taxed, including women and girls, we shall find near twenty millions of souls. to this number we may add the military list, which amounts to three hundred and fifty thousand men: besides, neither the nobility nor clergy, who are computed at two hundred thousand, are subject to this capitation. foreigners, of whatever country or profession, are likewise exempt: as also the inhabitants of the conquered countries, namely, livonia, esthonia, ingria, carelia, and a part of finland, the ukraine, and the don cossacks, the calmucks, and other tartars, samojedes, the laplanders, the ostiaks, and all the idolatrous people of siberia, a country of greater extent than china. by the same calculation, it is impossible that the total of the inhabitants of russia should amount to less than twenty-four millions. at this rate, there are eight persons to every square mile. the english ambassador, whom i have mentioned before, allows only five; but he certainly was not furnished with such faithful memoirs as those with which i have been favoured. russia therefore is exactly five times less populous than spain, but contains near four times the number of inhabitants: it is almost as populous as france or germany; but, if we consider its vast extent, the number of souls is thirty times less. there is one important remark to be made in regard to this enumeration, namely, that out of six million six hundred and forty thousand people liable to the poll-tax, there are about nine hundred thousand that belong to the russian clergy, without reckoning either the ecclesiastics of the conquered countries, of the ukraine, or of siberia. therefore, out of seven persons liable to the poll-tax, the clergy have one; but, nevertheless, they are far from possessing the seventh part of the whole revenues of the state, as is the case in many other kingdoms, where they have at least a seventh of all estates; for their peasants pay a capitation to the sovereign; and the other taxes of the crown of russia, in which the clergy have no share, are very considerable. this valuation is very different from that of all other writers, on the affairs of russia; so that foreign ministers, who have transmitted memoirs of this state to their courts, have been greatly mistaken. the archives of the empire are the only things to be consulted. it is very probable, that russia has been better peopled than it is at present; before the small-pox, that came from the extremities of arabia, and the great-pox that came from america, had spread over these climates, where they have now taken root. the world owes these two dreadful scourges, which have depopulated it more than all its wars, the one to mahomet, and the other to christopher columbus. the plague, which is a native of africa, seldom approached the countries of the north: besides, the people of those countries, from sarmatia to the tartars, who dwell beyond the great wall, having overspread the world by their irruptions, this ancient nursery of the human species must have been surprisingly diminished. in this vast extent of country, there are said to be about seventy-four thousand monks, and five thousand nuns, notwithstanding the care taken by peter the great to reduce their number; a care worthy the legislator of an empire where the human race is so remarkably deficient. these thirteen thousand persons, thus immured and lost to the state, have, as the reader may have observed, seventy-two thousand bondmen to till their lands, which is evidently too great a number: there cannot be a stronger proof how difficult it is to eradicate abuses of a long standing. i find, by a list of the revenues of the empire in , that reckoning the tribute paid by the tartars, with all taxes and duties in money, the sum total amounted to thirteen millions of rubles, which makes sixty-five millions of french livres, exclusive of tributes in kind. this moderate sum was at that time sufficient to maintain three hundred and thirty-nine thousand five hundred, as well sea as land forces: but both the revenues and troops are augmented since that time. the customs, diets, and manners of the russians, ever bore a greater affinity to those of asia than to those of europe: such was the old custom of receiving tributes in kind, of defraying the expenses of ambassadors on their journeys, and during their residence in the country, and of never appearing at church, or in the royal presence with a sword; an oriental custom, directly the reverse of that ridiculous and barbarous one amongst us, of addressing ourselves to god, to our king, to our friends, and to our women, with an offensive weapon, which hangs down to the bottom of the leg. the long robe worn on public days, had a more noble air than the short habits of the western nations of europe. a vest lined and turned up with fur, with a long scimar, adorned with jewels for festival days; and those high turbans, which add to the stature, were much more striking to the eye than our perukes and close coats, and more suitable to cold climates; but this ancient dress of all nations seems to be not so well contrived for war, nor so convenient for working people. most of their other customs were rustic; but we must not imagine, that their manners were so barbarous as some writers would have us believe. albert krants relates a story of an italian ambassador, whom the czar ordered to have his hat nailed to his head, for not pulling it off while he was making his speech to him. others attribute this adventure to a tartar, and others again to a french ambassador. olearius pretends, that the czar michael theodorowitz, banished the marquis of exideüil, ambassador from henry iv. of france, into siberia; but it is certain, that this monarch sent no ambassador to moscow, and that there never was a marquis of exideüil in france. in the same manner do travellers speak about the country of borandia, and of the trade they have carried on with the people of nova zémbla, which is scarcely inhabited at all, and the long conversations they have had with some of the samojedes, as if they understood their language. were the enormous compilations of voyages to be cleared of every thing that is not true nor useful in them, both the works and the public would be gainers by it. the russian government resembled that of the turks, in respect to the standing forces, or guards, called strelitzes, who, like the janissaries, sometimes disposed of the crown, and frequently disturbed the state as much as they defended it. their number was about forty thousand. those who were dispersed in the provinces, subsisted by rapine and plunder; those in moscow lived like citizens, followed trades, did no duty, and carried their insolence to the greatest excess: in short, there was no other way to preserve peace and good order in the kingdom, but by breaking them; a very necessary, and at the same time a very dangerous step. the public revenues did not exceed five millions of rubles, or about twenty-five millions of french livres. this was sufficient when czar peter came to the crown to maintain the ancient mediocrity, but was not a third part of what was necessary to go certain lengths, and to render himself and people considerable in europe: but at the same time many of their taxes were paid in kind, according to the turkish custom, which is less burthensome to the people than that of paying their tributes in money. of the title of czar. as to the title of czar, it may possibly come from the tzars or tchars of the kingdom of casan. when john, or ivan basilides, completed the conquest of this kingdom in the sixteenth century, which had been begun by his grandfather, who afterwards lost it, he assumed this title, which his successors have retained ever since. before john basilides, the sovereign of russia, took the title of welike knez, i. e. great prince, great lord, great chief, which the christian nations afterwards rendered by that of great duke. czar michael theodorowitz, when he received the holstein embassy, took to himself the following titles: 'great knez, and great lord, conservator of all the russias, prince of wolodomer, moscow, novogorod, &c. tzar of casan, tzar of astracan, and tzar of siberia.' tzar was, therefore, a title belonging to these eastern princes; and, therefore, it is more probable to have been derived from the tshas of persia, than from the roman cæsars, whom the siberian tzars, on the banks of the oby, can hardly be supposed to have ever heard. no title, however pompous, is of any consequence, if those who bear it are not great and powerful themselves. the word emperor, which originally signified no more than general of the army, became the title of the sovereign of the roman republic: it is now given to the supreme governor of all the russias, more justly than to any other potentate, if we consider the power and extent of his dominions. religion. the established religion of this country has, ever since the eleventh century, been that of the greek church, so called in opposition to the latin; though there were always a greater number of mahometan and pagan provinces, than of those inhabited by christians. siberia, as far as china, was in a state of idolatry; and, in some of the provinces, they were utter strangers to all kind of religion. perry, the engineer, and baron strahlemberg, who both resided so many years in russia, tell us, that they found more sincerity and probity among the pagans than the other inhabitants; not that paganism made them more virtuous, but their manner of living, which, was that of the primitive ages, as they are called, freed them from all the tumultuous passions; and, in consequence, they were known for their integrity. christianity did not get footing in russia and the other countries of the north, till very late. it is said, that a princess, named olha, first introduced it, about the end of the tenth century, as clotilda, niece to an arian prince, did among the franks; the wife of miceslaus, duke of poland, among the poles; and the sister of the emperor henry ii. among the hungarians. women are naturally easily persuaded by the ministers of religion, and as easily persuade the other part of mankind. it is further added, that the princess olha caused herself to be baptized at constantinople, by the name of helena; and that, as soon as she embraced christianity, the emperor john zimisces fell in love with her. it is most likely that she was a widow; however, she refused the emperor. the example of the princess olha, or olga, as she is called, did not at first make many proselytes. her son,[ ] who reigned a long time, was not of the same way of thinking as his mother, but her grandson, wolodomer, who was born of a concubine, having murdered his brother and mounted the throne, sued for the alliance of basiles, emperor of constantinople, but could obtain it only on condition of receiving baptism: and this event, which happened in the year , is the epocha when the greek church was first established in russia. photius, the patriarch, so famous for his immense erudition, his disputes with the church of rome, and for his misfortunes, sent a person to baptize wolodomer, in order to add this part of the world to the patriarchal see.[ ] wolodimer, or wolodomer, therefore completed the work which his grandmother had begun. a greek was made the first metropolitan, or patriarch of russia; and from this time the russians adopted an alphabet, taken partly from the greek. this would have been of advantage to them, had they not still retained the principles of their own language, which is the sclavonian in every thing, but a few terms relating to their liturgy and church government. one of the greek patriarchs, named jeremiah, having a suit depending before the divan, came to moscow to solicit it; where, after some time, he resigned his authority over the russian churches, and consecrated patriarch, the archbishop of novogorod, named job. this was in the year , from which time the russian church became as independent as its empire. the patriarch of russia has ever since been consecrated by the russian bishops, and not by the patriarch of constantinople. he ranked in the greek church next to the patriarch of jerusalem, but he was in fact the only free and powerful patriarch; and, consequently, the only real one. those of jerusalem, constantinople, antioch, alexandria, are mercenary chiefs of a church, enslaved by the turks; and even the patriarchs of jerusalem and antioch are no longer considered as such, having no more credit or influence in turkey, than the rabbins of the jewish synagogues settled there. it was from a person who was a patriarch of all the russias, that peter the great was descended in a right line. these new prelates soon wanted to share the sovereign authority with the czars. they thought it not enough that their prince walked bare-headed, once a year before the patriarch, leading his horse by the bridle. these external marks of respect only served to increase their thirst for rule; a passion which proved the source of great troubles in russia, as well as in other countries. nicon, a person whom the monks look upon as a saint, and who was patriarch in the reign of alexis, the father of peter the great, wanted to raise his dignity above that of the throne; for he not only assumed the privilege of sitting by the side of the czar in the senate, but pretended that neither war nor peace could be made without his consent. his authority was so great, that, being supported by his immense wealth, and by his intrigues with the clergy and the people, he kept his master in a kind of subjection. he had the boldness to excommunicate some senators who opposed his excessive insolence; till at last, alexis, finding himself not powerful enough to depose him by his own authority, was obliged to convene a synod of all the bishops. there the patriarch was accused of having received money from the poles; and being convicted, was deposed, and confined for the remainder of his days in a monastery, after which the prelates chose another patriarch in his stead. from the first infancy of christianity in russia, there have been several sects there, as well as in other countries; for sects are as frequently the fruits of ignorance, as of pretended knowledge: but russia is the only christian state of any considerable extent, in which religion has not excited civil wars, though it has felt some occasional tumults. the raskolnikys, who consist at present of about two thousand males, and who are mentioned in the foregoing list,[ ] are the most ancient sect of any in this country. it was established in the twelfth century, by some enthusiasts, who had a superficial knowledge of the new testament: they made use then, and still do, of the old pretence of all sectaries, that of following the letter, and accused all other christians of remissness. they would not permit a priest, who had drank brandy, to confer baptism; they affirmed, in the words of our saviour, that there is neither a first nor a last, among the faithful; and held, that one of the elect might kill himself for the love of his saviour. according to them it is a great sin to repeat the hallelujah three times; and, therefore, repeat it only twice. the benediction is to be given only with three fingers. in other respects, no society can be more regular, or strict in its morals. they live like the quakers, and, like them, do not admit any other christians into their assemblies, which is the reason that these have accused them of all the abominations of which the heathens accused the primitive galileans: these latter, the gnostics, and with which the roman catholics have charged the protestants. they have been frequently accused of cutting the throat of an infant, and drinking its blood; and of mixing together in their private ceremonies, without distinction of kindred, age, or even of sex. they have been persecuted at times, and then they shut themselves up in their hamlets, set fire to their houses, and thrown themselves into the flames. peter took the only method of reclaiming them, which was by letting them live in peace. but to conclude, in all this vast empire, there are but twenty-eight episcopal sees; and in peter's time there were but twenty-two. this small number was, perhaps, one of the causes to which the russian church owes its tranquillity. so very circumscribed was the knowledge of the clergy, that czar theodore, brother to peter the great, was the first who introduced the custom of singing psalms in churches. theodore and peter, especially the latter, admitted indifferently, into their councils and their armies, those of the greek, the latin, the lutheran, and the calvinist communion, leaving every one at liberty to serve god after his own conscience, provided he did his duty to the state. at that time there was not one latin church in this great empire of two thousand leagues, till peter established some new manufactures at astracan, when there were about sixty roman catholic families, under the direction of the capuchins; but the jesuits endeavouring to establish themselves in his dominions, he drove them out by an edict, published in the month of april, . he tolerated the capuchins as an insignificant set of monks, but considered the jesuits as dangerous politicians. the greek church has at once the honour and satisfaction to see its communion extended throughout an empire of two thousand leagues in length, while that of rome is not in possession of half that tract in europe. those of the greek communion have, at all times, been particularly attentive to maintain an equality between theirs and the latin church; and always upon their guard against the zeal of the see of rome, which they look upon as ambition; because, in fact, that church, whose power is very much circumscribed in our hemisphere, and yet assumes the title of universal, has always endeavoured to act up to that title. the jews never made any settlements in russia, as they have done in most of the other states of europe, from constantinople to rome. the russians have carried on their trade by themselves, or by the help of the nations settled amongst them. theirs is the only country of the greek communion, where synagogues are not seen by the side of christian temples. _conclusion of the state of_ russia _before_ peter _the_ great. russia is indebted solely to czar peter for its great influence in the affairs of europe; being of no consideration in any other reign, since it embraced christianity. before this period, the russians made the same figure on the black sea, that the normans did afterwards on the coasts of the ocean. in the reign of the emperor heraclius, they fitted out an armament of forty thousand small barks; appeared before constantinople, which they besieged, and imposed a tribute on the greek emperors; but the grand knez wolodimar, being wholly taken up with the care of establishing christianity in his dominions, and wearied out with intestine broils in his own family, weakened his dominions by dividing them between his children. they almost all fell a prey to the tartars, who held russia in subjection near two hundred years. at length john basilides freed it from slavery, and enlarged its boundaries: but, after his time, it was ruined again by civil wars. before the time of peter the great, russia was neither so powerful, so well cultivated, so populous, nor so rich as at present. it had no possessions in finland, nor in livonia; and this latter alone had long been worth more than all siberia. the cossacks were still unsubjected, nor were the people of astracan reduced to obedience; what little trade was carried on, was rather to their disadvantage. the white sea, the baltic, the pontus euxinus, the sea of azoph, and the caspian sea, were entirely useless to a nation that had not a single ship, nor even a term in their language to express a fleet. if nothing more had been wanting but to be superior to the tartars, and the other nations of the north, as far as china, the russians undoubtedly had that advantage, but they were to be brought upon an equality with civilized nations, and to be in a condition, one day, of even surpassing several of them. such an undertaking appeared altogether impracticable, inasmuch as they had not a single ship at sea, and were absolutely ignorant of military discipline by land: nay, the most common manufactures were hardly encouraged, and agriculture itself, that _primum mobile_ of trade, was neglected. this requires the utmost attention and encouragement on the part of a government; and it is to this that the english are indebted, for finding in their corn a treasure far superior to their woollen manufacture. this gross neglect of the necessary arts, sufficiently shews that the people of russia had no idea of the polite arts, which become necessary, in their turn, when we have cultivated the others. they might indeed, have sent some of the natives to gain instruction among foreigners, but the difference of languages, manners, and religion, opposed it. besides, there was a law of state and religion, equally sacred and pernicious, which prohibited any russian from going out of his country, and thus seemed to devote this people to eternal ignorance. they were in possession of the most extensive dominions in the universe, and yet every thing was wanted amongst them. at length peter was born, and russia became a civilized state. happily, of all the great lawgivers who have lived in the world, peter is the only one whose history is well known. those of theseus and romulus, who did far less than him, and of the founders of all well-governed states, are blended with the most absurd fictions: whereas here, we have the advantage of written truths, which would pass for fictions, were they not so well attested. chap. iii. the ancestors of peter the great. the family of peter the great have been in possession of the throne ever since the year . before that time, russia had undergone revolutions, which had retarded the reformation of her police, and the introduction of the liberal arts. this has been the fate of all human societies. no kingdom ever experienced more cruel troubles. in the year , the tyrant boris godonow assassinated demetrius (or demetri, as he was called), the lawful heir, and usurped the empire. a young monk took the name of demetrius, pretending to be that prince who had escaped from his murderers; and with the assistance of the poles, and a considerable party (which every tyrant has against him), he drove out the usurper, and seized the crown himself. the imposture was discovered as soon as he came to the sovereignty, because the people were not pleased with him; and he was murdered. three other false demetrius's started up, one after another. such a succession of impostors, supposes a country in the utmost distraction. the less men are civilized, the more easily they are imposed on. it may readily be conceived, how much these frauds augmented the public confusion and misfortunes. the poles, who had begun the revolutions, by setting up the first false demetrius, were on the point of being masters of russia. the swedes shared in the spoils on the coast of finland, and laid claim to the crown. the state seemed on the verge of utter destruction. in the midst of these calamities, an assembly, composed of the principal boyards, chose for their sovereign a young man of fifteen years of age: this happened in , and did not seem a very likely method of putting an end to these troubles. this young man was michael romanow,[ ] grandfather to czar peter, and son to the archbishop of rotow, surnamed philaretes, and of a nun, and related by the mother's side to the ancient czars. it must be observed, that this archbishop was a powerful nobleman, whom the tyrant boris had obliged to become priest. his wife, scheremetow, was likewise compelled to take the veil; this was the ancient custom of the western tyrants of the latin church, as that of putting out the eyes was with the greek christians. the tyrant demetrius made philaretes archbishop of rostow, and sent him ambassador to poland, where he was detained prisoner by the poles, who were then at war with the russians; so little was the law of nations known to the different people of these times. during his father's confinement, young romanow was elected czar. the archbishop was exchanged against some polish prisoners; and, at his return, his son created him patriarch, and the old man was in fact king, under his son's name. if such a government appears extraordinary to strangers, the marriages of czar michael romanow, will seem still more so. the russian princes had never intermarried with foreign states since the year , or after they became masters of casan and astracan; they seem to have followed the asiatic customs in almost every thing, and especially in that of marrying only among their own subjects. this conformity to the ancient customs of asia, was still more conspicuous at the ceremonies observed at the marriage of a czar. a number of the most beautiful women in the provinces were sent for to court, where they were received by the grand gouvernante of the court, who provided apartments for them in her own house, where they all eat together. the czar paid them visits, sometimes incognito, and sometimes in his real character. the wedding-day was fixed, without its being declared on whom the choice had fallen. at the appointed time, the happy she was presented with a rich wedding-suit, and other dresses were given to the rest of the fair candidates, who then returned home. there have been four instances of these marriages. in this manner was michael romanow espoused to eudocia, the daughter of a poor gentleman, named streschneu. he was employed in ploughing his grounds with his servants, when the lords of the bed-chamber came to him with presents from the czar, and to acquaint him that his daughter was placed on the throne. the name of the princess is still held in the highest veneration by the russians. this custom is greatly different from ours, but not the less respectable on that account. it is necessary to observe, that before romanow was elected czar, a strong party had made choice of prince ladislaus, son to sigismund iii. king of poland. at the same time, the provinces bordering on sweden had offered the crown to a brother of gustavus adolphus: so that russia was in the same situation then in which we have so frequently seen poland, where the right of electing a king has been the source of civil wars. but the russians did not follow the example of the poles, who entered into a compact with the prince whom they elected; notwithstanding they had smarted from the oppression of tyrants, yet they voluntarily submitted to a young man, without making any conditions with him. russia never was an elective kingdom; but the male issue of the ancient sovereigns failing, and six czars, or pretenders, having perished miserably in the late troubles, there was, as we have observed, a necessity for electing a monarch; and this election occasioned fresh wars with poland and sweden, who maintained, with force of arms, their pretended rights to the crown of russia. the right of governing a nation against its own will, can never be long supported. the poles, on their side, after having advanced as far as moscow, and exercised all the ravages in which the military expeditions of those times chiefly consisted, concluded a truce for fourteen years. by this truce, poland remained in possession of the duchy of smolensko, in which the boristhenes has its source. the swedes also made peace, in virtue of which they remained in possession of ingria, and deprived the russians of all communication with the baltic sea, so that this empire was separated more than ever from the rest of europe. michael romanow, after this peace, reigned quietly, without making any alteration in the state, either to the improvement or corruption of the administration. after his death, which happened in , his son, alexis michaelowitz (or son of michael), ascended the throne by hereditary right. it may be observed, that the czars were crowned by the patriarch of russia, according to the ceremonies in use at constantinople, except that the patriarch of russia, was seated on the same ascent with the sovereign, and constantly affected an equality highly insulting to the supreme power. alexis michaelowitz. alexis was married in the same manner as his father, and from among the young women presented, he chose the one who appeared the most amiable in his eyes. he married a daughter of the boyard meloslauski, in ; his second wife, whom he married in , was of the family of nariskin, and his favourite morosow was married to another. there cannot be a more suitable title found for this favourite than that of vizier, for he governed the empire in a despotic manner; and, by his great power, excited several commotions among the strelitzes and the populace, as frequently happens at constantinople. the reign of alexis was disturbed by bloody insurrections, and by domestic and foreign wars. a chief of the don cossacks, named stenko-rasin, endeavoured to make himself king of astracan, and was for a long time very formidable; but, being at length defeated and taken prisoner, he ended his life by the hands of the executioner; like all those of this stamp, who have nothing to expect but a throne or a scaffold. about twelve thousand of his adherents are said to have been hanged on the high road to astracan. in this part of the world, men being uninfluenced by morality, were to be governed only by rigour; and from this severity, frequently carried on to a degree of cruelty, arose slavery, and a secret thirst of revenge. alexis had a war with the poles that proved successful, and terminated in a peace, which secured to him the possession of smolensko, kiow, and the ukraine: but he was unfortunate against the swedes, and the boundaries of the russian empire were contracted within a very narrow compass on that side of the kingdom. the turks were at that time his most formidable enemies: they invaded poland, and threatened the dominions of the czar that bordered upon crim tartary, the ancient taurica chersonesus. in , they took the important city of kaminiek, and all that belonged to poland in the ukraine. the cossacks of that country, ever averse to subjection, knew not whether they belonged to the turks, poland, or russia. sultan mahomet iv. who had conquered the poles, and had just imposed a tribute upon them, demanded, with all the haughtiness of an ottoman victor, that the czar should evacuate his possessions in the ukraine, but received as haughty a denial from that prince. men did not know at that time how to disguise their pride, by an outside of civility. the sultan, in his letter, styled the sovereign of the russias only christian hospodar, and entitled himself 'most gracious majesty, king of the universe.' the czar replied in these terms, 'that he scorned to submit to a mahometan dog, and that his scimetar was as good as the grand seignior's sabre.' alexis at that time formed a design which seemed to presage the influence which the russian empire would one day obtain in the christian world. he sent ambassadors to the pope, and to almost all the great sovereigns in europe, excepting france (which was in alliance with the turks), in order to establish a league against the ottoman porte. his ambassadors at the court of rome succeeded only in not being obliged to kiss the pope's toe; and in other courts they met with only unprofitable good wishes; the quarrels of the christian princes between themselves, and the jarring interests arising from those quarrels, having constantly prevented them from uniting against the common enemy of christianity. in the mean time, the turks threatened to chastise the poles, who refused to pay their tribute: czar alexis assisted on the side of crim tartary, and john sobieski, general of the crown, wiped off his country's stain in the blood of the turks, at the famous battle of choczim,[ ] in , which paved his way to the throne. alexis disputed this very throne with him, and proposed to unite his extensive dominions to poland, as the jagellons had done; but in regard to lithuania, the greatness of his offer was the cause of its being rejected. he is said to have been very deserving of the new kingdom, by the manner in which he governed his own. he was the first who caused a body of laws to be digested in russia, though imperfect; and introduced both linen and silk manufactures, which indeed were not long kept up; nevertheless, he had the merit of their first establishment. he peopled the deserts about the wolga and the kama, with lithuanian, polish, and tartarian families, whom he had taken prisoners in his wars: before his reign, all prisoners of war were the slaves of those to whose lot they fell. alexis employed them in agriculture: he did his utmost endeavours to introduce discipline among his troops. in a word, he was worthy of being the father of peter the great; but he had no time to perfect what he had begun, being snatched away by a sudden death, at the age of forty-six, in the beginning of the year , according to our style, which is eleven days forwarder than that of russia. foedor, or theodore alexiowitz. upon the death of alexis, son of michael, all fell again into confusion. he left, by his first marriage, two princes, and six princesses. theodore, the eldest, ascended the throne at fifteen years of age. he was a prince of a weak and sickly constitution, but of merit superior to his bodily infirmities. his father alexis had caused him to be acknowledged his successor, a year before his death: a conduct observed by the kings of france from hugh capet down to lewis the young, and by many other crowned heads. the second son of alexis was iwan, or john, who was still worse treated by nature than his brother theodore, being almost blind and dumb, very infirm, and frequently attacked with convulsions. of six daughters, born of this first marriage, the only one who made any figure in europe was the princess sophia, who was remarkable for her great talents; but unhappily still more so for the mischief she intended against peter the great. alexis, by his second marriage with another of his subjects, daughter of the boyard nariskin, had peter and the princess nathalia. peter was born the th of may (or the th of june new stile), in the year , and was but four years old when he lost his father. as the children of a second marriage were not much regarded in russia, it was little expected that he would one day mount the throne. it had ever been the character of the family of romanow to civilize their state. it was also that of theodore. we have already remarked, in speaking of moscow, that this prince encouraged the inhabitants of that city to build a great number of stone houses. he likewise enlarged that capital, and made several useful regulations in the general police; but, by attempting to reform the boyards, he made them all his enemies: besides, he was not possessed of sufficient knowledge, vigour, or resolution, to venture upon making a general reformation. the war with the turks, or rather with the crim tartars, in which he was constantly engaged with alternate success, would not permit a prince of his weak state of health to attempt so great a work. theodore, like the rest of his predecessors, married one of his own subjects, a native of the frontiers of poland; but having lost her in less than a year after their nuptials, he took for his second wife, in , martha matweowna, daughter of the secretary nariskin.[ ] some months after this marriage, he was seized with the disorder which ended his days, and died without leaving any children. as the czars married without regard to birth, they might likewise (at least at that time) appoint a successor without respect to primogeniture. the dignity of consort and heir to the sovereign seemed to be entirely the reward of merit; and, in that respect, the custom of this empire was much preferable to the customs of more civilized states. theodore, before he expired, seeing that his brother iwan was by his natural infirmities incapable of governing, nominated his younger brother peter, heir to the empire of russia. peter, who was then only in his tenth year, had already given the most promising hopes. if, on the one hand, the custom of raising a subject to the rank of czarina, was favourable to the females, there was another which was no less hard upon them; namely, that the daughters of the czars were very seldom married, but were most of them obliged to pass their lives in a monastery. the princess sophia, third daughter of czar alexis, by his first marriage, was possessed of abilities, equally great and dangerous. perceiving that her brother theodore had not long to live, she did not retire to a convent; but finding herself situated between two brothers, one of whom was incapable of governing, through his natural inability; and the other, on account of his youth, she conceived the design of placing herself at the head of the empire. hence, in the last hours of czar theodore, she attempted to act the part that pulcheria had formerly played with her brother, the emperor theodosius. chap. iv. john and peter. horrible sedition among the strelitzes.[ ] [sidenote: .] czar theodore's eyes were scarcely closed, when the nomination of a prince of only ten years old to the throne, the exclusion of the elder brother, and the intrigues of the princess sophia, their sister, excited a most bloody revolt among the strelitzes. never did the janissaries, nor the prætorian guards, exercise more horrible barbarities. the insurrection began two days after the interment of theodore, when they all ran to arms in the kremlin, which is the imperial palace at moscow. there they began with accusing nine of their colonels, for keeping back part of their pay. the ministry was obliged to break the colonels, and to pay the strelitzes the money they demanded: but this did not satisfy them, they insisted upon having these nine officers delivered up to them, and condemned them, by a majority of votes, to suffer the battogs, or knout; the manner of which punishment is as follows:-- the delinquent is stripped naked, and laid flat on his belly, while two executioners beat him over the back with switches, or small canes, till the judge, who stands by to see the sentence put in execution, says, 'it is enough.' the colonels, after being thus treated by their men, were obliged to return them thanks, according to the custom of the eastern nations; where criminals, after undergoing their punishment, must kiss the judge's hand. besides complying with this custom, the officers gave them a sum of money, which was something more than the custom. while the strelitzes thus began to make themselves formidable, the princess sophia, who secretly encouraged them, in order to lead them by degrees from crime to crime, held a meeting at her house, consisting of the princesses of the blood, the generals of the army, the boyards, the patriarch, the bishops, and even some of the principal merchants; where she represented to them, that prince john, by right of birth and merit, was entitled to the empire, the reins of which she intended to keep in her own hands. at the breaking up of the assembly, she caused a promise to be made to the strelitzes, of an augmentation of pay, besides considerable presents. her emissaries were in particular employed to stir up the soldiery against the nariskin family, especially the two brothers of the young dowager czarina, the mother of peter the first. these persuaded the strelitzes, that one of the brothers, named john, had put on the imperial robes, had seated himself on the throne, and had attempted to strangle prince john; adding, moreover, that the late czar theodore had been poisoned by a villain, named daniel vongad, a dutch physician. at last sophia put into their hands a list of forty noblemen, whom she stiled enemies to their corps, and to the state, and as such worthy of death. these proceedings exactly resembled the proscriptions of sylla, and the roman triumvirate, which had been revived by christian ii. in denmark and sweden. this may serve to shew, that such cruelties prevail in all countries in times of anarchy and confusion. the mutineers began the tragedy with throwing the two knez, or princes, dolgorouki and matheof, out of the palace-windows; whom the strelitzes received upon the points of their spears, then stripped them, and dragged their dead bodies into the great square; after this they rushed into the palace, where meeting with athanasius nariskin, a brother of the young czarina, and one of the uncles of czar peter, they murdered him in like manner; then breaking open the door of a neighbouring church, where three of the proscribed persons had taken refuge, they drag them from the altar, strip them naked, and stab them to death with knives. they were so blinded with their fury, that seeing a young nobleman of the family of soltikoff, a great favourite of theirs, and who was not included in the list of the proscribed, and some of them mistaking him for john nariskin, whom they were in search of, they murdered him upon the spot; and what plainly shews the manners of those times, after having discovered their error, they carried the body of young soltikoff, to his father to bury it; and the wretched parent, far from daring to complain, gave them a considerable reward for bringing him the mangled body of his son. being reproached by his wife, his daughters, and the widow of the deceased, for his weakness, 'let us wait for an opportunity of being revenged,' said the old man. these words being overheard by some of the soldiers, they returned furiously back into the room, dragged the aged parent by the hair, and cut his throat at his own door. another party of the strelitzes, who were scouring the city in search of the dutch physician, vongad, met with his son, of whom they inquired for his father; the youth trembling, replied, he did not know where he was, upon which they immediately dispatched him. soon after, a german physician falling in their way, 'you are a doctor,' said they, 'and if you did not poison our master, theodore, you have poisoned others, and therefore merit death;' and thereupon killed him. at length they found the dutchman, of whom they were in quest, disguised in the garb of a beggar; they instantly drag him before the palace. the princesses who loved this worthy man, and placed great confidence in his skill, begged the strelitzes to spare him, assuring them that he was a very good physician, and had taken all possible care of their brother theodore. the strelitzes made answer, that he not only deserved to die as a physician, but also as a sorcerer; and that they had found in his house, a great dried toad, and the skin of a serpent. they furthermore required to have young nariskin delivered up to them, whom they had searched for in vain for two days: alleging, that he was certainly in the palace, and that they would set fire to it, unless he was put into their hands. the sister of john nariskin, and the other princesses, terrified by their menaces, went to acquaint their unhappy brother in the place of his concealment, with what had passed; upon which the patriarch heard his confession, administers the viaticum, and extreme unction to him, and then, taking an image of the blessed virgin, which was said to perform miracles, he leads the young man forth by the hand, and presents him to the strelitzes, shewing them, at the same time, the image of the virgin. the princesses, who in tears surrounded nariskin, falling upon their knees before the soldiers, besought them, in the name of the blessed virgin, to spare their relation's life; but the inhuman wretches tore him from their arms, and dragged him to the foot of the stairs, together with the physician vongad, where they held a kind of tribunal among themselves, and condemned them both to be put to the torture. one of the soldiers, who could write, drew up a form of accusation, and sentenced the two unfortunate princes to be cut in pieces; a punishment inflicted in china and tartary on parricides, and called the punishment of ten thousand slices. after having thus used nariskin and vongad, they exposed their heads, feet, and hands, on the iron points of a balustrade. while this party of the strelitzes were thus glutting their fury in the sight of the princesses, the rest massacred every one who was obnoxious to them, or suspected by the princess sophia. this horrid tragedy concluded with proclaiming the two princes, john and peter, in june, , joint sovereigns, and associating their sister sophia with them, in the quality of co-regent; who then publicly approved of all their outrages, gave them rewards, confiscated the estates of the proscribed, and bestowed them upon their murderers. she even permitted them to erect a monument, with the names of the persons they had murdered, as being traitors to their country: and to crown all, she published letters-patent, thanking them for their zeal and fidelity. chap. v. administration of the princess sophia. extraordinary quarrel about religion. a conspiracy. such were the steps by which the princess sophia did in effect ascend the throne of russia, though without being declared czarina; and such the examples that peter the first had before his eyes. sophia enjoyed all the honours of a sovereign; her bust was on the public coin; she signed all dispatches, held the first place in council, and enjoyed a power without control. she was possessed of a great share of understanding, and some wit; made verses in the russian language, and both spoke and wrote extremely well. these talents were set off by the addition of an agreeable person, and sullied only by her ambition. she procured a wife for her brother john, in the manner already described in several examples. a young lady named soltikoff, of the family with the nobleman of that name who had been assassinated by the seditious strelitzes, was sent for from the heart of siberia, where her father commanded a fortress, to be presented to czar john at moscow. her beauty triumphed over all the intrigues of her rivals, and john was married to her in . at every marriage of a czar we seem to read the history of ahasuerus, or that of theodosius the younger. in the midst of the rejoicings on account of this marriage, the strelitzes raised a new insurrection, and (who would believe it?) on account of religion! of a particular tenet! had they been mere soldiers, they would never have become controvertists, but they were also citizens of moscow. whosoever has, or assumes a right of speaking in an authoritative manner to the populace, may found a sect. this has been seen in all ages, and all parts of the world, especially since the passion of dogmatizing has become the instrument of ambition, and the terror of weak minds. russia had experienced some previous disturbances on occasion of a dispute, whether the sign of the cross was to be made with three fingers, or with two! one abakum, who was also a priest, had set up some new tenets at moscow, in regard to the holy spirit; which according to the scriptures, enlightened all the faithful; as likewise with respect to the equality of the primitive christians, and these words of christ:--'there shall be amongst you neither first nor last.' several citizens and many of the strelitzes, embraced the opinions of abakum. one raspop[ ] was the chief of this party, which became considerable. the sectaries, at length, entered (july , , new stile) the cathedral, where the patriarch and his clergy were officiating; drove them out of the church with stones, and seated themselves very devoutly in their places, to receive the holy spirit. they called the patriarch the 'ravenous wolf in the sheepfold;' a title which all sects have liberally bestowed on each other. the princess sophia, and the two czars, were immediately made acquainted with these disturbances: and the other strelitzes, who were staunch to the good old cause, were given to understand, that the czars and the church were in danger. upon this the strelitzes and burghers of the patriarchal party attacked the abakumists: but a stop was put to the carnage, by publishing a convocation of a council, which was immediately assembled in a hall of the palace. this took up very little time, for they obliged every priest they met to attend. the patriarch, and a bishop, disputed against raspop; but at the second syllogism, they began to throw stones at one another. the council ended with ordering raspop, and some of his faithful disciples to have their heads struck off; and the sentence was executed by the sole order of the three sovereigns, sophia, john, and peter. during these troubles, there was a knez, named chowanskoi, who having been instrumental in raising the princess sophia to the dignity she then held, wanted, as a reward for his services, to have a share in the administration. it may be supposed, that he found sophia not so grateful as he could wish; upon which he espoused the cause of religion, and the persecuted raspopians, and stirred up a party among the strelitzes and the people, in defence of god's name. this conspiracy proved a more serious affair than the enthusiastic riot of raspop. an ambitious hypocrite always carries things farther than a simple fanatic. chowanskoi aimed at no less than the imperial dignity; and to rid himself of all cause of fear, he resolved to murder the two czars, sophia, the other princesses, and every one who was attached to the imperial family. the czars and the princesses were obliged to retire to the monastery of the holy trinity, within twelve leagues of petersburg.[ ] this was, at the same time, a convent, a palace, and a fortress, like mount cassino,[ ] corhy,[ ] fulda,[ ] kempten,[ ] and several others belonging to the latin church. this monastery of the trinity belongs to the monks of st. basil. it is surrounded by deep ditches, and ramparts of brick, on which is planted a numerous artillery. the monks are possessed of all the country round for four leagues. the imperial family were in full safety there, but more on account of the strength, than the sanctity of the place. here sophia treated with the rebel knez; and having decoyed him half way, caused his head to be struck off, together with those of one of his sons, and thirty-seven strelitzes who accompanied him. [sidenote: .] the body of strelitzes upon this news, fly to arms, and march to attack the convent of trinity, threatening to destroy every thing that came in their way. the imperial family stood upon their defence; the boyards arm their vassals, all the gentlemen flocked in, and a bloody civil war seemed on the point of beginning. the patriarch somewhat pacified the strelitzes, who began to be intimidated with the number of troops that were marching towards them on all sides: in short, their fury was changed into fear, and their fear into the most abject submission; a change common to the multitude. three thousand seven hundred of this corps, followed by their wives and children, with ropes tied about their necks, went in procession to the convent of the trinity, which three days before they had threatened to burn to the ground. in this condition, these unhappy wretches present themselves before the gate of the convent, two by two, one carrying a block and another an axe; and prostrating themselves on the ground, waited for their sentence. they were pardoned upon their submission, and returned back to moscow, blessing their sovereigns; and still disposed, though unknown to themselves, to commit the same crime upon the very first opportunity. these commotions being subsided, the state resumed an exterior of tranquillity; but sophia still remained possessed of the chief authority, leaving john to his incapacity, and keeping peter in the subjection of a ward. in order to strengthen her power, she shared it with prince basil galitzin, whom she created generalissimo, minister of state, and lord keeper. galitzin was in every respect superior to any person in that distracted court: he was polite, magnificent, full of great designs, more learned than any of his countrymen, as having received a much better education, and was even master of the latin tongue, which was, at that time, almost entirely unknown in russia. he was of an active and indefatigable spirit, had a genius superior to the times he lived in, and capable, had he had leisure and power, as he had inclination, to have changed the face of things in russia. this is the eulogium given of him by la neuville, at that time the polish envoy in russia; and the encomiums of foreigners are seldom to be suspected. this minister bridled the insolence of the strelitzes, by distributing the most mutinous of that body among the several regiments in the ukraine, in casan, and siberia. it was under his administration that the poles, long the rivals of russia, gave up, in , all pretensions to the large provinces of smolensko and the ukraine. he was the first who sent an embassy to france, in ; a country which had, for upwards of twenty years, been in the zenith of its glory, by the conquests, new establishments, and the magnificence of lewis xiv. and especially by the improvement of the arts, there can be not only external grandeur, but solid glory. france had not then entered into any correspondence with russia, or rather was unacquainted with that empire; and the academy of inscriptions ordered a medal to be struck to commemorate this embassy, as if it had come from the most distant part of the indies; but notwithstanding all this, the ambassador dolgorouski miscarried in his negotiation, and even suffered some gross affronts on account of the behaviour of his domestics, whose mistakes it would have been better to have overlooked; but the court of lewis xiv. could not then foresee, that france and russia would one day reckon among the number of their advantages, that of being cemented by the closest union. russia was now quiet at home, but she was still pent up on the side of sweden, though enlarged towards poland, her new ally, in continual alarms on the side of crim tartary, and at variance with china in regard to the frontiers. the most intolerable circumstance for their empire, and which plainly shewed, that it had not yet attained to a vigorous and regular administration, was, that the khan of the crim tartars exacted an annual tribute of rubles, in the nature of that which the turk had imposed on the poles. crim tartary is the ancient taurica chersonesus, formerly so famous by the commerce of the greeks, and still more by their fables, a fruitful but barbarous country. it took its name of crimea, or crim, from the title of its first khans, who took this name before the conquests of the sons of gengis khan. to free his country from this yoke, and wipe off the disgrace of such tribute, the prime minister, galitzin, marched in person ( , ,) into crim tartary, at the head of a numerous army. these armies were not to be compared to the present troops; they had no discipline; there was hardly one regiment completely armed; they had no uniform clothing, no regularity: their men indeed were inured to hard labour and a scarcity of provisions, but then they carried with them such a prodigious quantity of baggage, as far exceeded any thing of the kind in our camps, where the greatest luxury prevails. their vast numbers of waggons for carrying ammunition and provisions, in an uninhabitable and desert country, greatly retarded the expedition against crim tartary. the army found itself in the midst of the vast deserts, on the river samara, unprovided with magazines. here galitzin did what in my opinion, was never done any where else: he employed thirty thousand men in building a town on the banks of the samara, to serve as a place for magazines in the ensuing campaign: it was begun in one year, and finished in the third month of the following; the houses indeed were all wood except two, which were brick; the ramparts were of turf, but well lined with artillery; and the whole place was in a tolerable state of defence. this was all that was done of any consequence in this ruinous expedition. in the mean while sophia continued to govern in moscow, while john had only the name of czar; and peter, now at the age of seventeen, had already the courage to aim at real sovereignty. la neuville, the polish envoy, then resident at moscow, and who was eye-witness to all that passed, pretends that sophia and galitzin had engaged the new chief of the strelitzes, to sacrifice to them their young czar: it appears, at least, that six hundred of these strelitzes were to have made themselves masters of his person. the private memoirs which have been entrusted to my perusal by the court of russia, affirm, that a scheme had actually been laid to murder peter the first: the blow was on the point of being struck, and russia for ever deprived of the new existence she has since received. the czar was once more obliged to take refuge in the convent of the trinity, the usual asylum of the court when threatened by the soldiers. there he assembled the boyards of his party, raised a body of forces, treats with the captains of the strelitzes, and called in the assistance of certain germans, who had been long settled in moscow, and were all attached to his person from his having already shewn himself the encourager of strangers. sophia and john, who continued at moscow, used every means to engage the strelitzes to remain firm to their interests; but the cause of young peter, who loudly complained of an attempt meditated against himself and his mother, prevailed over that of the princess, and of a czar, whose very aspect alienated all hearts. all the acomplices were punished with a severity to which that country was as much accustomed as to the crimes which occasioned it. some were beheaded after undergoing the punishment of the knout or battocks. the chief of the strelitzes was put to death in the same manner, and several other suspected persons had their tongues cut out. prince galitzin escaped with his life, through the intercession of one of his relations, who was a favourite of czar peter; but he was stripped of all his riches, which were immense, and banished to a place in the neighbourhood of archangel. la neuville, who was present at the whole of this catastrophe, relates, that the sentence pronounced upon galitzin was in these terms: 'thou art commanded, by the most clement czar, to repair to karga, a town under the pole, and there to continue the remainder of thy days. his majesty, out of his extreme goodness, allows thee three pence per day for thy subsistence.' there is no town under the pole. karga is in the nd degree of latitude, and only six degrees and a half further north than moscow. whoever pronounced this sentence must have been a very bad geographer. la neuville was probably imposed upon by a false account. .] at length the princess sophia was once more sent back to her monastery at moscow,[ ] after having so long held the reins of government; and this revolution proved, to a woman of her disposition, a sufficient punishment. from this instant peter began to reign in reality; his brother john having no other share in the government, but that of seeing his name to all public acts. he led a retired life, and died in . chap. vi. the reign of peter the first.--beginning of the grand reformation. peter the great was tall, genteel, well made, with a noble aspect, piercing eyes and a robust constitution, fitted for all kinds of hardship and bodily exercise. he had a sound understanding, which is the basis of all real abilities; and to this was joined an active disposition, which prompted him to undertake and execute the greatest things. his education was far from being worthy of his genius. the princess sophia was, in a peculiar manner, interested to let him remain in ignorance, and to indulge himself in those excesses which youth, idleness, custom, and the high rank he held, made but too allowable. nevertheless, he had been lately married, (june ) like others of his predecessors, to one of his own subjects, the daughter of colonel lapuchin; but, as he was young, and for some time enjoyed none of the prerogatives of the crown, but that of indulging his pleasures without restraint, the ties of wedlock were not always sufficient to keep him within just bounds. the pleasures of the table, in which he indulged himself rather too freely, with foreigners, who had been invited to moscow by prince galitzin, seemed not to presage that he would one day become the reformer of his country; however, in spite of bad examples, and even the allurements of pleasure, he applied himself to the arts of war and government, and which, even then, shewed that he had the seeds of greatness in him. it was still less expected, that a prince, who was subject to such a constitutional dread of water, as to subject him to cold sweats, and even convulsions, when he was obliged to cross a small river or brook, should become one of the best seamen in all the north. in order to get the better of nature, he began by jumping into the water, notwithstanding the horror he felt at it, till at length this aversion was changed into a fondness for that element.[ ] he often blushed at the ignorance in which he had been brought up. he learned, almost of himself, without the help of a master, enough of german and high dutch, to be able to write and explain himself tolerably well in both those languages. the germans and dutch appeared to him as the most civilized nations, because the former had already erected, in moscow, some of those arts and manufactures which he was desirous of seeing established in his empire, and the latter excelled in the art of navigation, which he already began to look upon as the most necessary of all others. such were the dispositions which peter cherished, notwithstanding the follies of his youth. at the same time, he found himself disturbed by factions at home, had the turbulent spirit of the strelitzes to keep under, and an almost uninterrupted war to manage against the crim tartars. for though hostilities had been suspended in , by a truce, it had no long continuance. during this interval, peter became confirmed in his design of introducing the arts into his country. his father alexis had, in his lifetime, entertained the same views, but he wanted leisure, and a favourable opportunity to carry them into execution; he transmitted his genius to his son, who was more clear-sighted, more vigorous, and more unshaken by difficulties and obstacles. alexis had been at a great expense in sending for bothler,[ ] a ship builder and sea captain, from holland, together with a number of shipwrights and sailors. these built a large frigate and a yacht upon the wolga, which they navigated down that river to astracan, where they were to be employed in building more vessels, for carrying on an advantageous trade with persia, by the caspian sea. just at this time the revolt of stenko-rasin broke out, and this rebel destroyed these two vessels, which he ought to have preserved for his own sake, and murdered the captain; the rest of the crew fled into persia, from whence they got to some settlements belonging to the dutch east india company. a master-builder, who was a good shipwright, staid behind in russia, where he lived a long time in obscurity. one day, peter taking a walk at ishmaelof, a summer-palace built by his grandfather, he perceived, among several other rarities, an old english shallop, which had lain entirely neglected: upon which he asked timmerman, a german, and his mathematical teacher, how came that little boat to be of so different a construction from any he had seen on the moska? timmerman replied, that it was made to go with sails and oars. the young prince wanted instantly to make a trial of it; but it was first to be repaired and rigged. brant, the ship-builder abovementioned, was by accident found out at moscow, where he lived retired; he soon put the boat in order, and worked her upon the river yauza, which washes the suburbs of the town. peter caused his boat to be removed to a great lake, in the neighbourhood of the convent of the trinity; he likewise made brant build two more frigates, and three yachts, and piloted them himself. a considerable time afterwards, viz. in , he made a journey to archangel, and having ordered a small vessel to be built in that port, by the same brant, he embarked therein on the frozen sea, which no sovereign beside himself had ever beheld. on this occasion, he was escorted by a dutch man of war, under the command of captain jolson, and attended by all the merchant-vessels then in the port of archangel. he had already learned the manner of working a ship; and, notwithstanding the pains his courtiers took to imitate their master, he was the only one who made a proficiency in it. he found it no less difficult to raise a well disciplined body of land forces, on whom he could depend, than to establish a navy. his first essay in navigation, on a lake, previous to his journey to archangel, was looked upon only as the amusements of a young prince of genius; and his first attempt to form a body of disciplined troops, likewise appeared as nothing more than that of diversion. this happened during the regency of the princess sophia; and, had he been suspected of meaning any thing serious by this amusement, it might have been attended with fatal consequences to him. he placed his confidence in a foreigner, the celebrated le fort, of a noble and ancient family in piedmont, transplanted near two centuries ago to geneva, where they have filled the most considerable posts in the state. he was intended to have been brought up to the trade, to which the town is indebted for the figure it now makes; having formerly been known only as the seat of religious controversies. but his genius, which prompted him to the greatest undertakings, engaged him to quit his father's house at the age of fourteen; and he served four months[ ] in quality of a cadet in the citadel of marseilles; from thence he went to holland, where he served some time as a volunteer, and was wounded at the siege of grave, a strong fortified town on the meuse, which the prince of orange, afterwards king of england, retook from lewis xiv. in . after this, led by hopes of preferment, wherever he could find it, he embarked with a german colonel, named verstin, who had obtained a commission from peter's father, the czar alexis, to raise soldiers in the netherlands, and bring them to archangel. but, when he arrived at that port, after a most fatiguing and dangerous navigation, the czar alexis was no more; the government was changed, and russia in confusion. the governor of archangel suffered verstin, le fort, and his whole troop, to remain a long time, in the utmost poverty and distress, and even threatened to send them into the extremity of siberia; upon which every man shifted for himself. le fort, in want of every thing, repaired to moscow, where he waited upon the danish resident, named de horn, who made him his secretary: there he learned the russian language, and some time afterwards found means to be introduced to the czar peter; the elder brother, iwan, not being a person for his purpose. peter was taken with him, and immediately gave him a company of foot. le fort had seen very little service, he knew but little of letters, not having studied any particular art or science; but he had seen a great deal, and had a talent of making the most of what he saw. like the czar, he owed every thing to his own genius; he understood the german and dutch languages, which peter was learning, as those of two nations that might be of service in his designs. every thing conspired to make him agreeable to peter, to whom he strictly attached himself. from being the companion of his pleasures, he became his favourite, and confirmed himself in that station by his abilities. the czar made him his confidant in the most dangerous design that a prince of that country could possibly form, namely, that of putting himself in a condition to be able one day to break the seditious and barbarous body of forces called the strelitzes. it had cost the great sultan or basha osman his life, for attempting to disband the janissaries. peter, young as he was, went to work in a much abler manner than osman. he began with forming, at his country-seat at preobrazinski, a company of fifty of his youngest domestics; and some young gentlemen, the sons of boyards, were chosen for their officers: but, in order to teach these young noblemen a subordination, to which they were wholly unaccustomed, he made them pass through all the different military degrees, and himself set them the example, by serving first as a drum, then as a private soldier, a serjeant, and a lieutenant of the company. nothing was ever more extraordinary, nor more useful, than this conduct. the russians had hitherto made war in the same manner as our ancestors at the time of the feudal tenures, when the unexperienced nobles took the field at the head of their vassals, undisciplined, and ill armed: a barbarous method, sufficient indeed to act against the like armies, but of no use against regular troops. this company, which was formed wholly by peter himself, soon increased in numbers, and became afterwards the regiment of preobrazinski guards. another regiment, formed on the same plan, became in time the regiment of semeniousky guards. the czar had already a regiment of five thousand men that could be depended upon, trained by general gordon, a scotchman, and composed almost entirely of foreigners. le fort, who had borne arms but a short time, but whose capacity was equal to every thing, undertook to raise a regiment of twelve thousand men, which he effected: five colonels were appointed to serve under him, and he saw himself on a sudden general of this little army, which had been raised, as much to oppose the strelitzes, as the enemies of the state. one thing worthy of being remarked,[ ] and which fully confutes the hasty error of those who pretend that france lost very few of its inhabitants by the revocation of the edict of nantz, is, that one-third of his army, which was only called a regiment, consisted of french refugees. le fort disciplined his new troops, as if he had been all his lifetime a soldier. peter was desirous of seeing one of those images of war, the mock fights, which had lately been introduced in times of peace: a fort was erected, which was to be attacked by one part of his new troops, and defended by the other. the difference between this fight, and others of the like nature, was, that instead of a sham engagement, there was a real one, in which some of his men were slain, and a great many wounded.[ ] le fort, who commanded the attack, received a considerable wound. these bloody sports were intended to initiate the young troops into the service of the field; but it required much labour, and even some degree of sufferings to compass this end. these warlike amusements did not take off the czar's attention to his naval project. as he had made le fort a general by land, notwithstanding his having never borne a command; he now made him admiral, though he had never had the direction of a ship, but he knew him deserving both of the one and the other. it is true, that he was an admiral without a fleet, and a general with only his regiment for an army. by degrees the czar reformed that great abuse in the army, viz. the independence of the boyards, who, in time of war, used to bring into the field a multitude of their vassals and peasants: this was exactly the ancient government of the franks, huns, goths, and vandals, who indeed subdued the roman empire in its state of decline, but would have been totally destroyed, had they had the warlike disciplined legions of ancient rome to encounter, or such armies as are now brought into the field. admiral le fort was not long, however, before he had something more than an empty title. he employed some dutchmen and venetians in building a number of barcolongos, or kind of long barks, and also two ships of about thirty guns each, at the mouth of the woronitz, which falls into the tanais, or don: these vessels were to fall down the river, and keep in awe the crim tartars, with whom hostilities had been renewed. the czar was now to determine (in ) against which of the following powers he would declare war, whether against the turks, the swedes, or the chinese. but here it will be proper to premise on what terms he then stood with china, and which was the first treaty of peace concluded by that nation. chap. vii. congress and treaty with the chinese.[ ] we must set out by forming a proper idea of the limits of the chinese and russian empires at this period. when we leave siberia, properly so called, and also far behind us to the south, a hundred hordes of tartars, with white and black calmucks, and mahometan and pagan monguls, we come to the th degree of longitude, and the d of latitude upon the river amur.[ ] to the northward is a great chain of mountains, that stretches as far as the frozen sea, beyond the polar circle. this river, which runs upwards of five hundred leagues,[ ] through siberia and chinese tartary, falls, after many windings, into the sea of kamtshatka. it is affirmed for a truth, that at its mouth, which opens with this sea, there is sometimes caught a monstrous fish, much larger than the hippopotamus of the nile, and that the tooth thereof is the finest ivory. it is furthermore said, that this ivory was formerly an object of trade; that they used to convey it through siberia, which is the reason why several pieces of it are still found under the ground in that country. this is the most probable account of the fossil ivory, of which we have elsewhere spoken; for it appears highly chimerical to pretend, that there were formerly elephants in siberia. this amur is likewise called the black river by the mantechoux tartars, and the dragon's river by the chinese. it was in these countries, so long unknown, that the russians and chinese contested the limits of their empires.[ ] the russians had some forts on the river amur, about three hundred leagues from the great wall. many hostilities had arisen between these two nations on account of these forts: at length both began to understand their interests better; the emperor camhi preferred peace and commerce to an unprofitable war, and sent several ambassadors to niptchou, one of those settlements. the ambassadors had ten thousand men in their retinue, including their escort: this was asiatic pomp; but what is very remarkable, is, that there was not an example in the annals of the empire, of an embassy being sent to another potentate; and what is still more singular, that the chinese had never concluded a treaty of peace since the foundation of their monarchy. though twice conquered by the tartars, who attacked and subjected them, they never made war upon any people, excepting a few hordes that were quickly subdued, or as quickly left to themselves, without any treaty. so that this nation, so renowned for morality, knew nothing of what we call the 'law of nations;' that is to say, of those vague rules of war and peace, of the privileges of foreign ministers, of the formalities of treaties, nor of the obligations resulting from thence, nor of the disputes concerning precedency and point of honour. but in what language were the chinese to negotiate with the russians, in the midst of deserts? this difficulty was removed by two jesuits, the one a portuguese, named pereira, the other a frenchman, whose name was gerbillon; they set out from pekin with the chinese ambassadors, and were themselves the real negotiators. they conferred in latin with a german belonging to the russian embassy, who understood this language. the chief of that embassy was golowin, governor of siberia, who displayed a greater magnificence than the chinese themselves, and thereby gave a high idea of the russian empire, to a people who thought themselves the only powerful nation under the sun. the two jesuits settled the limits of both empires at the river kerbechi, near the spot where the treaty was concluded. all the country, to the southward of this line of partition, was adjudged to the chinese, and the north to the russians, who only lost a small fort which was found to have been built beyond the limits: a peace was agreed to, and after some few altercations, both parties swore to observe it, in the name of the same god;[ ] and in these terms, 'if any of us shall entertain the least thought of kindling anew the flames of war, we beseech the supreme lord of all things, and who knows all hearts, to punish the traitor with sudden death.' from this form of treaty, used alike by chinese and christians, we may infer two important truths: the first, that the chinese government is neither atheistical nor idolatrous, as has been so frequently and falsely charged upon it, by contradictory imputations. secondly, that all nations, who cultivate the gift of reason and understanding, do, in effect, acknowledge the same god, notwithstanding the particular deviations of that reason, through the want of being properly instructed. the treaty was drawn up in latin, and two copies were made of it. the russian ambassadors set their names the first to the copy that remained in their possession, and the chinese also signed theirs the first, agreeable to the custom observed by european nations, when two equal powers conclude a treaty with each other. on this occasion was observed another custom belonging to the asiatic nations, and which was indeed, that of the earliest ages. the treaty was engraven on two large marble pillars, erected on the spot, to determine the boundaries of the two empires. three years after this, the czar sent isbrand ides, a dane, his ambassador to china; and the commerce he then established between the two nations, continued with advantage to each, till the rupture between them in the year ; but since this short interruption, it has been revived with redoubled vigour. chap. viii. expedition to the palus mæotis; conquest of azoph.--the czar sends young gentlemen into foreign countries for improvement. it was not so easy to have peace with the turks, and indeed, the time seemed come for the russians to rise upon their ruins. the republic of venice, that had long groaned under their yoke, began now to rouse itself. the doge morosini, the same who had surrendered candy to the turks, afterwards took from them the peloponnesus, which conquest got him the title of peloponnesian, an honour which revived the memory of the roman republic. leopold, emperor of germany, had proved successful against the ottoman power in hungary; and the poles made shift to check the incursions of the crim tartars. peter took advantage of these circumstances, to discipline his troops, and to procure himself the empire of the black sea. general gordon marched along the tanais, towards azoph, with his numerous regiment of five thousand men, followed by general le fort, with his regiment of twelve thousand; by a body of strelitzes, under the command of sheremeto and schein, natives of prussia; by a body of cossacks, and by a large train of artillery: in a word, every thing was ready for this expedition. .] this grand army began its march under the command of marshal sheremeto, or scheremetoff, in the beginning of the summer of , to attack the town of azoph, at the mouth of the tanais, and at the extremity of the palus mæotis, now called the zaback sea. the czar himself was with the army, but only in quality of a volunteer, being determined to learn, some time before he took upon him to command. during their march, they stormed two forts which the turks had built on the banks of the river. this expedition was attended with some considerable difficulties. the place was well fortified, and defended by a numerous garrison. a number of barcolongos, resembling the turkish saicks, and built by venetians, with two small dutch ships of war, that were to sail out of the woronitz, could not be got ready soon enough to enter the sea of azoph. all beginnings meet with obstacles. the russians had never yet made a regular siege; and the first attempt did not meet with all the success that could be desired. one jacob, a native of dantzic, had the direction of the artillery, under the command of general schein; for as yet they had none but foreign officers belonging to the train, and none but foreign engineers and pilots. this jacob had been condemned to the bastinade, or _knout_, by schein, the russian general. at that time rigorous discipline was thought to be the only method of strengthening command; and the russians quietly submitted to it, notwithstanding their natural bent to sedition; and after the punishment, did their duty as usual. but the dane thought in a different manner, and resolved to be revenged for the treatment he had received, and thereupon nailed up the cannon, deserted to the turks, turned mahometan, and defended azoph, with great success, against his former masters. this instance shews, that the lenity which is now practised in russia, is much preferable to the former severities; and is better calculated to retain those in their duty, who by a good education, have a proper sense of honour. it was absolutely necessary at that time, to use the utmost rigour towards the common people; but since their manners have been changed, the empress elizabeth[ ] has completed, by clemency, the work her father begun, by the authority of the laws. this lenity has even been carried, by this princess, to a degree unexampled, in the history of any nation. she has promised, that, during her reign, no person shall be punished with death, and she has kept her word. she is the first sovereign who ever shewed so much regard for the lives of men. by an institution, equally prudent and humane, malefactors are now condemned to serve in the mines, and other public works: by which means their very punishments prove of service to the state. in other countries, they know only how to put a criminal to death, with all the apparatus of execution, without being able to prevent the perpetration of crimes. the apprehension of death makes, perhaps, less impression on those miscreants, who are, for the most part, bred up in idleness, than the fear of punishment and hard labour, renewed every day. to return to the siege of azoph, which place was now defended by the same person who had before directed the attacks against it; the russians, in vain, attempted to take it by storm; and after losing a great number of men, were obliged to raise the siege. perseverance in his undertakings, was the distinguishing character of peter the great. in the spring of , he brought a still more considerable army before azoph. about this time died czar john, his brother, who though he had not, while living, been the least curb to peter's authority, having enjoyed only the bare title of czar, yet he had been some restraint upon him in regard to appearances. the money which had been appropriated to the support of john's dignity and household, were now applied to the maintenance of the army. this proved no small help to a government, whose revenues were not near so great as they are at present. peter wrote to the emperor leopold, to the states-general, and to the elector of brandenburg, to obtain engineers, gunners, and seamen. he likewise took some calmucks into his pay, whose light horse are very useful against the crim tartars. the most agreeable of the czar's successes, was that of his little fleet, which was at length completed, and well commanded. it defeated the turkish saicks, sent from constantinople, and took some of them. the siege was carried on regularly by trenches, but not altogether in our method; the trenches being three times deeper than ours, with parapets as high as ramparts. at length the garrison surrendered, the th of july, . n. s. without being allowed the honours of war, or to carry out with them either arms or ammunition: they were likewise obliged to deliver up the renegade, jacob, to the conquerors. the czar immediately set about fortifying azoph, built strong forts to protect it, and made a harbour capable of holding large vessels, with a design to make himself master of the streights of caffa, or the cimmerian bosphorus, which commands the entrance into the pontus euxinus, or black sea; places famous in ancient times, by the naval armaments of mithridates. he left thirty-two armed saicks before azoph,[ ] and made all the necessary preparations for fitting out a fleet against the turks, to consist of nine ships of sixty guns, and of forty-one, from thirty to fifty. he obliged his principal nobles, and the richer merchants, to contribute towards this armament; and thinking that the estates of the clergy ought to help towards the common cause, he obliged the patriarch, the bishops, and principal clergy, to pay down a sum of ready money to forward this expedition, in honour of their country, and the advantage of the christian faith. the cossacks were employed in building a number of those light boats in use amongst them, and which were excellent for the purpose of cruising on the coast of crim tartary. the ottoman empire was alarmed at this powerful armament; the first that had ever been attempted on the palus mæotis. the czar's scheme was to drive the turks and the tartars for ever out of the taurica chersonesus, and afterwards to establish a free and easy commerce with persia through georgia. this is the very trade which the greeks formerly carried on to colchos, and to this peninsula of crim tartary, which peter now seemed on the point of conquering. having subdued the turks and the tartars, he was willing to accustom his people to splendid shows as well as to military labour. he made his army to enter into moscow, under triumphal arches, in the midst of superb fire-works, and every thing that could add to the lustre of the festival. the soldiers who had fought on board the venetian saicks against the turks, and who were a distinct corps of themselves, marched first. marshal sheremeto, the generals gordon and schein, admiral le fort, and the other general officers, all took the precedence of their monarch in this procession, who declared he had no rank in the army, being desirous to convince the nobility, by his example, that the only way to acquire military preferment, was to deserve it.[ ] this triumphal entry seemed somewhat a-kin to those of the ancient romans, in which the conquerors were wont to expose the prisoners they had taken, to public view, and sometimes put them to death: in like manner, the slaves, taken in this expedition, follow the army; and the deserter jacob, who had betrayed them, was drawn in an open cart, in which was a gibbet, to which his body was fastened after he had been broke upon the wheel. on this occasion was struck the first medal in russia, with this remarkable legend, in the language of the country. 'peter the first, august emperor of muscovy.' on the reverse was the city of azoph, with these words; 'victorious by fire and water.' peter felt a sensible concern in the midst of all these successes, that his ships and gallies in the sea of azoph, had been built entirely by the hands of foreigners; and wished as earnestly to have a harbour in the baltic sea, as upon the pontus euxinus. accordingly, in the month of march , he sent threescore young russians of le fort's regiment, into italy, most of them to venice, and the rest to leghorn, to instruct themselves in the naval art, and the manner of constructing gallies. he likewise sent forty others into holland,[ ] to learn the method of building and working large ships: and others likewise into germany, to serve in the land forces, and instruct themselves in the military discipline of that nation. at length he took a resolution to absent himself for a few years from his own dominions, in order to learn how to govern them the better. he had an irresistible inclination to improve himself by his own observation and practice in the knowledge of naval affairs, and of the several arts which he was so desirous to establish in his own country. he proposed to travel _incognito_ through denmark, brandenburg, holland, vienna, venice, and rome. france and spain were the only countries he did not take into his plan; spain, because the arts he was in quest of, were too much neglected there; and france, because in that kingdom they reigned with too much ostentation, and that the parade and state of lewis xiv. which had disgusted so many crowned heads, ill agreed with the private manner in which he proposed to travel. moreover, he was in alliance with most of the powers, whose dominions he intended to visit, except those of france and rome. he likewise remembered, with some degree of resentment, the little respect shewn by lewis xiv. to his embassy in , which had proved more famous than successful; and lastly he already began to espouse the cause of augustus, elector of saxony, with whom the prince of conti had lately entered into a competition for the crown of poland. chap. ix. travels of peter the great. [sidenote: .] having thus determined to visit the several countries and courts above-mentioned in a private character, he put himself into the retinue of three ambassadors, in the same manner as he had before mingled in the train of his generals at his triumphant entry into moscow. [ ] the three ambassadors were, general le fort, the boyard alexis gollowin, commissary-general of war, and governor of siberia, the same who signed the perpetual treaty of peace with the plenipotentiaries of china, on the frontiers of that empire; and wonitzin, diak, or secretary of state, who had been long employed in foreign courts. four principal secretaries, twelve gentlemen, two pages for each ambassador, a company of fifty guards, with their officers, all of the regiment of preobrazinski, composed the chief retinue of this embassy, which consisted in the whole of two hundred persons; and the czar, reserving to himself only one valet de chambre, a servant in livery, and a dwarf, mingled with the crowd. it was a thing unparalleled in history, for a king of five-and-twenty years of age, to quit his dominions, in order to learn the art of governing. his victory over the turks and tartars, the splendour of his triumphant entry into moscow, the number of foreign troops attached to his service, the death of his brother john, his co-partner in the empire, and the confinement of the princess sophia to a cloister, and above all the universal respect shewn to his person, seemed to assure him the tranquillity of his kingdom during his absence. he intrusted the regency in the hands of the boyard strechnef, and the knez or prince romadonowski, who were to deliberate with the rest of the boyards in cases of importance. two troops raised by general gordon remained behind in moscow, to keep every thing quiet in that capital. those strelitzes, who were thought likely to create a disturbance, were distributed in the frontiers of crim tartary, to preserve the conquest of azoph, and to check the incursions of the tartars. having provided against every incident, he gave a free scope to his passion and desire of improvement. as this journey proved the cause, or at least the pretext, of the bloody war, which so long traversed, but in the end promoted, all the designs of the czar; which drove augustus, king of poland, from the throne; placed that crown on the head of stanislaus, and then stript him of it; which made charles xii. king of sweden, the first of conquerors for nine years, and the most unfortunate of kings for nine more; it is necessary, in order to enter into a detail of these events, to take a view of the state of europe at that time. sultan mustapha ii. sat at that time on the ottoman throne; the weakness of whose administration would not permit him to make any great efforts, either against leopold, emperor of germany, whose arms were successful in hungary, nor against the czar, who had lately taken azoph from him, and threatened to make himself master of the pontus euxinus; nor even against the venetians, who had made themselves masters of all the peloponnesus. john sobieski, king of poland, for ever famous by the victory of chocksim, and the deliverance of vienna, died the th of june, , and the possession of that crown was in dispute between augustus, elector of saxony, who obtained it, and armond, prince of conti, who had only the honour of being elected. .] sweden had lately lost, but without regret, charles xi. her sovereign, who was the first king who had ever been really absolute in that country, and who was the father of a prince still more so, and with whom all despotic power ceased. he left the crown to his son charles xii. a youth of only fifteen years of age. this was in all appearance a conjuncture the most favourable for the czar's design; he had it in his power to extend his dominions on the gulf of finland, and on the side of livonia. but he did not think it enough to harass the turks on the black sea; the settlements on the palus mæotis, and the borders of the caspian sea, were not sufficient to answer his schemes of navigation, commerce, and power. besides, glory, which is the darling object of every reformer, was to be found neither in persia, nor in turkey, but in our parts of europe, where great talents are rendered immortal. in a word, peter did not aim at introducing either the persian or turkish manners among his subjects. germany, then at war both with the turks and with the french, and united with spain, england, and holland, against the single power of lewis xiv. was on the point of concluding peace, and the plenipotentiaries were already met at the castle of ryswick, in the neighbourhood of the hague. it was during this situation of affairs, that peter and his ambassador began their journey in the month of april, , by the way of great novogorod: from thence they travelled through esthonia and livonia, provinces formerly disputed by the russians, swedes, and poles, and which the swedes at last acquired by superiority of arms. the fertility of livonia, and the situation of its capital, riga, were temptations to the czar, to possess himself of that country. he expressed a curiosity to see the fortifications of the citadel. but count d'alberg, governor of riga, taking umbrage at this request, refused him the satisfaction he desired, and affected to treat the embassy with contempt. this behaviour did not at all contribute to cool the inclination the czar might have, to make himself one day master of those provinces. from livonia they proceeded to brandenburg-prussia, part of which had been inhabited by the ancient vandals; polish prussia had been included in european sarmatia. brandenburg-prussia was a poor country and badly peopled; but its elector, who afterwards took the name of king, displayed a magnificence on this occasion, equally new and destructive to his dominions. he piqued himself upon receiving this embassy in his city of konigsberg, with all the pomp of royalty. the most sumptuous presents were made on both sides. the contrast between the french dress which the court of berlin affected, and the long asiatic robes of the russians, with their caps buttoned up with pearls and diamonds, and their scimitars hanging at their belts, produced a singular effect. the czar was dressed after the german fashion. the prince of georgia, who accompanied him, was clad in a persian habit, which displayed a different magnificence. this is the same who was taken prisoner afterwards at the battle of narva, and died in sweden. peter despised all this ostentation; it was to have been wished that he had shewn an equal contempt for the pleasures of the table, in which the germans, at that time, placed their chiefest glory. it was at one of those entertainments,[ ] then too much in fashion, and which are alike fatal to health and morality, that he drew his sword upon his favourite, le fort; but he expressed as much contrition for this sudden sally of passion, as alexander did for the murder of clytus; he asked pardon of le fort, saying, that he wanted to reform his subjects, and could not yet reform himself. general le fort, in his manuscript praises the czar more for this goodness of heart, than he blames him for his excess of passion. the ambassadors then went through pomerania and berlin; and, from thence, one part took its way through magdeburg, and the other by hamburg, a city which already began to be considerable by its extensive commerce, but not so rich and populous as it has become since. from thence they directed their route towards minden, crossed westphalia, and at length, by the way of cleves, arrived at amsterdam. the czar reached this city fifteen days before the ambassadors. at his first coming, he lodged in a house belonging to the east india company; but soon afterwards he took a small apartment in the dock-yard, belonging to the admiralty. he then put on the habit of a dutch skipper, and in that dress went to the village of saardam, a place where a great many more ships were built at that times, than at present. this village is as large, as populous, and as rich, and much neater, than many opulent towns. the czar greatly admired the multitude of people who were constantly employed there, the order and regularity of their times of working, the prodigious dispatch with which they built and fitted out ships, the incredible number of warehouses, and machines, for the greater ease and security of labour. the czar began with purchasing a bark, to which he made a mast with his own hands; after that, he worked upon all the different parts in the construction of a vessel, living in the same manner as the workmen at saardam, dressing and eating the same as them, and working in the forges, the rope-walks, and in the several mills, which are in prodigious numbers in that village, for sawing timber, extracting oil, making paper, and wire-drawing. he caused himself to be enrolled in the list of carpenters, by the name of peter michaelhoff, and was commonly called peter bas, or master peter: the workmen were at first confounded at having a crowned head for a fellow-labourer, but soon became familiarized to the sight. while he was thus handling the compass and the axe at saardam, a confirmation was brought him of the division in poland, and of the double nomination of the elector augustus, and the prince of conti. the carpenter of saardam immediately promised king augustus to assist him with thirty thousand men; and, from his work-loft, issued out orders to his army that was assembled in the ukraine against the turks. th aug. .] his troops gained a victory over the tartars near azoph, and a few months afterwards took from them the city of or, or orkapi, which we call precop.[ ] as to himself, he still continued improving in different arts: he went frequently from saardam to amsterdam, to hear the lectures of the celebrated anatomist, ruysch; and made himself master of several operations in surgery, which, in case of necessity, might be of use both to himself and his officers. he went through a course of natural philosophy, in the house of the burgomaster witzen, a person for ever estimable for his patriotic virtue, and the noble use he made of his immense riches, which he distributed like a citizen of the world, sending men of abilities, at a great expense, to all parts of the globe, in search of whatever was most rare and valuable, and fitting out vessels at his own charge to make new discoveries. peter bas gave a truce to his labours for a short time, but it was only to pay a private visit at utrecht, and at the hague, to william, king of england, and stadtholder of the united provinces. general le fort was the only one admitted to the private conference of the two monarchs. peter assisted afterwards at the public entry of his ambassadors, and at their audience: they presented, in his name, to the deputy of the states, six hundred of the most beautiful sables that could be procured; and the states, over and above the customary presents on these occasions, of a gold chain and a medal, gave them three magnificent coaches. they received the first visits of all the plenipotentiaries who were at the congress of ryswick, excepting those of france, to whom they had not notified their arrival, not only because the czar espoused the cause of augustus against the prince of conti, but also because king william, whose friendship he was desirous of cultivating, was averse to a peace with france. at his return to amsterdam he resumed his former occupations, and completed with his own hands, a ship of sixty guns, that he had begun himself, and sent her to archangel; which was the only port he had at that time on the ocean. he not only engaged in his service several french refugees, swiss, and germans; but he also sent all sorts of artists over to moscow, and he previously made a trial of their several abilities himself. there were few trades or arts which he did not perfectly well understand, in their minutest branches: he took a particular pleasure in correcting with his own hands, the geographical maps, which at that time laid down at hazard the positions of the towns and rivers in his vast dominions, then very little known. there is still preserved, a map, on which he marked out, with his own hand, his projected communication of the caspian and black seas, the execution of which he had given in charge to mr. brekel, a german engineer. the junction of these two seas was indeed a less difficult enterprise than that of the ocean and mediterranean, which was effected in france; but the very idea of joining the sea of azoph with the caspian, astonished the imagination at that time: but new establishments in that country became the object of his attention, in proportion as his successes begat new hopes. his troops, commanded by general schein and prince dolgorowski, had lately gained a victory over the tartars near azoph, and likewise over a body of janissaries sent by sultan mustapha to their assistance. (july .) this success served to make him more respected, even by those who blamed him, as a sovereign, for having quitted his dominions, to turn workman at amsterdam. they now saw, that the affairs of the monarch did not suffer by the labours of the philosopher, the traveller, and the artificer. he remained at amsterdam, constantly employed in his usual occupations of shipbuilding, engineering, geography, and the practice of natural philosophy, till the middle of january , and then he set out for england, but still as one of the retinue of his ambassadors. king william sent his own yacht to meet him, and two ships of war as convoy. in england he observed the same manner of living as at amsterdam and saardam; he took an apartment near the king's dockyard, at deptford, where he applied himself wholly to gain instruction. the dutch builders had only taught him their method, and the practical part of shipbuilding. in england he found the art better explained; for there they work according to mathematical proportion. he soon made himself so perfect in this science, that he was able to give lessons to others. he began to build a ship according to the english method of construction, and it proved a prime sailor. the art of watchmaking, which was already brought to perfection in london, next attracted his attention, and he made himself complete master of the whole theory. captain perry, the engineer, who followed him from london to russia, says, that from the casting of cannon, to the spinning of ropes, there was not any one branch of trade belonging to a ship that he did not minutely observe, and even put his hand to, as often as he came into the places where those trades were carried on. in order to cultivate his friendship, he was allowed to engage several english artificers into his service, as he had done in holland; but, over and above artificers, he engaged likewise some mathematicians, which he would not so easily have found in amsterdam. ferguson, a scotchman, an excellent geometrician, entered into his service, and was the first person who brought arithmetic into use in the exchequer in russia, where before that time, they made use only of the tartarian method of reckoning, with balls strung upon a wire; a method which supplied the place of writing, but was very perplexing and imperfect, because, after the calculation, there was no method of proving it, in order to discover any error. the indian ciphers, which are now in use, were not introduced among us till the ninth century, by arabs; and they did not make their way into the russian empire till one thousand years afterwards. such has been the fate of the arts, to make their progress slowly round the globe. he took with him two young students from a mathematical school,[ ] and this was the beginning of the marine academy, founded afterwards by peter the great. he observed and calculated eclipses with ferguson. perry, the engineer, though greatly discontented at not being sufficiently rewarded, acknowledges, that peter made himself a proficient in astronomy; that he perfectly well understood the motions of the heavenly bodies, as well as the laws of gravitation, by which they are directed. this force, now so evidently demonstrated, and before the time of the great newton so little known, by which all the planets gravitate towards each other, and which retain them in their orbits, was already become familiar to a sovereign of russia, while other countries amused themselves with imaginary vertices, and, in galileo's nation, one set of ignorant persons ordered others, as ignorant, to believe the earth to be immoveable. perry set out in order to effect a communication between rivers, to build bridges, and construct sluices. the czar's plan was to open a communication by means of canals between the ocean, the caspian, and the black seas. we must not forget to observe, that a set of english merchants, with the marquis of caermarthen[ ] at their head, gave peter fifteen thousand pounds sterling, for the permission of vending tobacco in russia. the patriarch, by a mistaken severity, had interdicted this branch of trade; for the russian church forbid smoking, as an unclean and sinful action. peter, who knew better things, and who, amongst his many projected changes, meditated a reformation of the church, introduced this commodity of trade into his dominions. before peter left england, he was entertained by king william with a spectacle worthy such a guest: this was a mock sea-fight. little was it then imagined, that the czar would one day fight a real battle on this element against the swedes, and gain naval victories in the baltic. in fine, william made him a present of the vessel in which he used to go over to holland, called the royal transport, a beautiful yacht, and magnificently adorned. in this vessel peter returned to holland the latter end of , taking with him three captains of ships of war, five and twenty captains of merchant ships, forty lieutenants, thirty pilots, as many surgeons, two hundred and fifty gunners, and upwards of three hundred artificers. this little colony of persons skilful in all branches, sailed from holland to archangel, on board the royal transport, and from thence were distributed into all the different places where their services were necessary. those who had been engaged at amsterdam went by the way of narva, which then belonged to the swedes. while he was thus transplanting the arts and manufacture of england and holland into his own country, the officers, whom he had sent to rome, and other places in italy, had likewise engaged some artists in his service. general sheremeto, who was at the head of his embassy to italy, took the tour of rome, naples, venice, and malta, while the czar proceeded to vienna with his other ambassadors. he had now only to view the military discipline of the germans, after having seen the english fleets, and the dock-yards of holland. politics had likewise as great a share in this journey as the desire of instruction. the emperor was his natural ally against the turks. peter had a private audience of leopold, and the two monarchs conferred standing, to avoid the trouble of ceremony. there happened nothing worthy remark during his stay at vienna, except the celebration of the ancient feast of the landlord and landlady, which had been disused for a considerable time, and which leopold thought proper to revive on the czar's account. this feast, which by the germans is called wurtchafft, is celebrated in the following manner:-- the emperor is landlord and the empress landlady, the king of the romans, the archdukes and the archduchesses are generally their assistants: they entertain people of all nations as their guests, who come dressed after the most ancient fashion of their respective countries: those who are invited to the feast, draw lots for tickets, on each of which is written the name of the nation, and the character or person they are to represent. one perhaps draws a ticket for a chinese mandarin; another for a tartarian mirza; a third a persian satrap; and a fourth for a roman senator; a princess may, by her ticket, be a gardener's wife, or a milk-maid; a prince a peasant, or a common soldier. dances are composed suitable to all those characters, and the landlord and landlady with their family wait at table. such was the ancient institution; but on this occasion[ ] joseph, king of the romans, and the countess of traun, represented the ancient egyptians. the archduke charles, and the countess of walstein, were dressed like flemings in the time of charles the fifth. the archduchess mary elizabeth and count traun were in the habits of tartars; the archduchess josephina and the count of workslaw were habited like persians, and the archduchess mariamne and prince maximilian of hanover in the character of north holland peasants. peter appeared in the dress of a friesland boor, and all who spoke to him addressed him in that character, at the same time talking to him of the great czar of muscovy. these are trifling particulars; but whatever revives the remembrance of ancient manners and customs, is in some degree worthy of being recorded. peter was ready to set out from vienna, in order to proceed to venice, to complete his tour of instruction, when he received the news of a rebellion, which had lately broke out in his dominions. chap. x. a conspiracy punished.--the corps of strelitzes abolished, alterations in customs, manners, church, and state. czar peter, when he left his dominions to set out on his travels, had provided against every incident, even that of rebellion. but the great and serviceable things he had done for his country, proved the very cause of this rebellion. certain old boyards, to whom the ancient customs were still dear, and some priests, to whom the new ones appeared little better than sacrilege, began these disturbances, and the old faction of the princess sophia took this opportunity to rouse itself anew. it is said, that one of her sisters, who was confined to the same monastery, contributed not a little to excite these seditions. care was taken to spread abroad the danger to be feared from the introduction of foreigners to instruct the nation. in short, who would believe, that[ ] the permission which the czar had given to import tobacco into his empire, contrary to the inclination of the clergy, was one of the chief motives of the insurrection? superstition, the scourge of every country, yet the darling of the multitude, spread itself from the common people to the strelitzes, who had been scattered on the frontiers of lithuania: they assembled in a body, and marched towards moscow, with the intent to place the princess sophia on the throne, and for ever to prevent the return of a czar who had violated the established customs,[ ] by presuming to travel for instruction among foreigners. the forces commanded by schein and gordon, who were much better disciplined than the strelitzes, met them fifteen leagues from moscow, gave them battle, and entirely defeated them: but this advantage, gained by a foreign general over the ancient militia, among whom were several of the burghers of moscow, contributed still more to irritate the people. to quell these tumults, the czar sets out privately from vienna, passes through poland, has a private interview with augustus, concerts measures with that prince for extending the russian dominions on the side of the baltic, and at length arrived at moscow, where he surprised every one with his presence: he then confers rewards on the troops who had defeated the strelitzes, (sept. ,) of whom the prisons were now full. if the crimes of these unhappy wretches were great, their punishment was no less so. their leaders, with several of their officers and priests, were condemned to death; some were broken upon the wheel,[ ] and two women were buried alive; upwards of two thousand of the strelitzes were executed, part of whom were hung round about the walls of the city, and others put to death in different manners, and their dead bodies remained exposed for two days in the high roads,[ ] particularly about the monastery where the princesses sophia and eudocia resided.[ ] monuments of stone were erected, on which their crimes and punishments were set forth. a great number of them who had wives and children at moscow, were dispersed with their families into siberia, the kingdom of astracan, and the country of azoph. this punishment was at least of service to the state, as they helped to cultivate and people a large tract of waste land. perhaps, if the czar had not found it absolutely necessary to make such terrible examples, he might have employed part of those strelitzes whom he put to death, upon the public works; whereas they were now lost both to him and the state: the lives of men ought to be held in great estimation, especially in a country where the increase of inhabitants ought to have been the principal care of the legislature: but he thought it necessary to terrify and break the spirit of the nation by executions, and the parade attending them. the entire corps of the strelitzes, whose number not one of his predecessors had even dared to think of diminishing, was broke for ever, and their very name abolished. this change was effected without any resistance, because matters had been properly prepared beforehand. the turkish sultan, osman, as i have already remarked, was deposed and murdered in the same century, only for giving the janissaries room to suspect that he intended to lessen their number. peter had better success, because he had taken better measures. of this powerful and numerous body of the strelitzes, he left only two feeble regiments, from whom there could no longer be any danger; and yet these still retaining their old spirit of mutiny, revolted again in astracan, in the year , but were quickly suppressed. but while we are relating peter's severity in this affair of state, let us not forget to commemorate the more than equal humanity he shewed some time afterwards, when he lost his favourite le fort, who was snatched away by an untimely fate, march , n. s. , at the age of . he paid him the same funeral honours as are bestowed on the greatest sovereigns, and assisted himself in the procession, carrying a pike in his hand, and marching after the captains, in the rank of a lieutenant, which he held in the deceased general's regiment, hereby setting an example to his nobles, of the respect due to merit and the military rank. after the death of le fort, it appeared plainly, that the changes in the state were not owing to that general, but to the czar himself. peter had indeed been confirmed in his design by his several conversations with le fort; but he had formed and executed them all without his assistance. as soon as he had suppressed the strelitzes, he established regular regiments on the german model, who were all clothed in a short and commodious uniform, in the room of those long and troublesome coats, which they used to wear before; and, at the same time, their exercise was likewise more regular. the regiment of preobrazinski guards was already formed; it had taken its name from the first company of fifty men, whom the czar had trained up in his younger days, in his retreat at preobrazinski, at the time when his sister sophia governed the state, and the other regiment of guards was also established. as he had himself passed through the lowest degrees in the army, he was resolved that the sons of his boyards and great men, should serve as common soldiers before they were made officers. he sent some of the young nobility on board of his fleet at woronitz and azoph, where he obliged them to serve their apprenticeship as common seamen. no one dared to dispute the commands of a master who had himself set the example. the english and dutch he had brought over with him were employed in equipping this fleet for sea, in constructing sluices, and building docks, for careening the ships, and to resume the great work of joining the tanais, or don, and the wolga, which had been dropped by brekel, the german. and now he began to set about his projected reformations in the council of state, in the revenue, in the church, and even in society itself. the affairs of the revenue had been hitherto administered much in the same manner as in turkey. each boyard paid a stipulated sum for his lands, which he raised upon the peasants, his vassals; the czar appointed certain burghers and burgomasters to be his receivers, who were not powerful enough to claim the right of paying only such sums as they thought proper into the public treasury. this new administration of the finances, was what cost him the most trouble: he was obliged to try several methods before he could fix upon a proper one. the reformation of the church, which in all other countries is looked upon as so dangerous and difficult an attempt, was not so to him. the patriarchs had at times opposed the authority of the crown, as well as the strelitzes; nicon with insolence, joachin, one of his successors, in an artful manner. the bishops had arrogated the power of life and death, a prerogative directly contrary to the spirit of religion, and the subordination of government. this assumed power, which had been of long standing, was now taken from them. the patriarch adrian, dying at the close of this century, peter declared that there should for the future be no other. this dignity then was entirely suppressed, and the great income belonging thereto was united to the public revenue, which stood in need of this addition. although the czar did not set himself up as the head of the russian church, as the kings of great britain have done in regard to the church of england; yet he was, in fact, absolute master over it, because the synods did not dare either to disobey the commands of a despotic sovereign, or to dispute with a prince who had more knowledge than themselves. we need only to cast an eye on the preamble to the edict, concerning his ecclesiastical regulations, issued in , to be convinced that he acted at once as master and legislator: 'we should deem ourselves guilty of ingratitude to the most high, if, after having reformed the military and civil orders, we neglect the spiritual, &c. for this cause, following the example of the most ancient kings, who have been famed for piety, we have taken upon us to make certain wholesome regulations, touching the clergy.' it is true, he convened a synod for carrying into execution his ecclesiastical decrees, but the members of this synod, at entering upon their office, were to take an oath, the form of which had been drawn up and signed by himself. this was an oath of submission and obedience, and was conceived in the following terms: 'i swear to be a faithful and obedient servant and subject to my true and natural sovereign, and to the august successors whom it shall please him to nominate, in virtue of the incontestable right of which he is possessed: i acknowledge him to be the supreme judge of this spiritual college: i swear by the all-seeing god, that i understand and mean this oath in the full force and sense, which the words convey to those who read or hear it.' this oath is much stronger than that of the supremacy in england. the russian monarch was not, indeed, one of the fathers of the synod, but he dictated their laws; and, though he did not touch the holy censer, he directed the hands that held it. previous to this great work, he thought, that in a state like his, which stood in need of being peopled, the celibacy of the monks was contrary to nature, and to the public good. it was the ancient custom of the russian church, for secular priests to marry at least once in their lives: they were even obliged so to do: and formerly they ceased to be priests as soon as they lost their wives. but that a multitude of young people of both sexes should make a vow of living useless in a cloister, and at the expense of others, appeared to him a dangerous institution. he, therefore, ordered that no one should be admitted to a monastic life, till they were fifty years old, a time of life very rarely subject to a temptation of this kind; and he forbid any person to be admitted, at any age soever, who was actually in possession of any public employ. this regulation has been repealed since his death, because the government has thought proper to shew more complaisance to the monasteries: but the patriarchal dignity has never been revived, and its great revenues are now appropriated to the payment of the troops. these alterations at first excited some murmurings. a certain priest wrote, to prove that peter was antichrist, because he would not admit of a patriarch; and the art of printing, which the czar encouraged in his kingdom, was made use of to publish libels against him: but, on the other hand, there was another priest who started up to prove that peter could not be antichrist, because the number was not to be found in his name, and that he had not the sign of the beast. all complaints, however, were soon quieted. peter, in fact, gave much more to the church than he took from it; for he made the clergy, by degrees, more regular and more learned. he founded three colleges at moscow, where they teach the languages, and where those who are designed for the priesthood are obliged to study. one of the most necessary reforms was the suppression, or at least the mitigation of the three lents, an ancient superstition of the greek church, and as prejudicial with respect to those who are employed in public works, and especially to soldiers, as was the old jewish superstition of not fighting on the sabbath-day. accordingly the czar dispensed with his workmen and soldiers at least, observing these lents, in which, though they were not permitted to eat, they were accustomed to get drunk. he likewise dispensed with their observance of meagre days; the chaplains of the fleet and army were obliged to set the example, which they did without much reluctance. the calendar, another important object. formerly, in all the countries of the world, the chiefs of religion had the care of regulating the year, not only on account of the feasts to be observed, but because, in ancient times, the priests were the only persons who understood astronomy. the year began with the russians on the st of september. peter ordered, that it should for the future commence the first day of january, as among the other nations of europe. this alteration was to take place in the year , at the beginning of the century, which he celebrated by a jubilee, and other grand solemnities. it was a matter of surprise, to the common people, how the czar should be able to change the course of the sun. some obstinate persons, persuaded that god had created the world in september, continued their old style: but the alteration took place in all the public offices, in the whole court of chancery, and in a little time throughout the whole empire. peter did not adopt the gregorian calendar, because it had been rejected by the english mathematicians; but which must, nevertheless, be one day received in all countries. ever since the th century, the time when letters first came into use amongst them, they had been accustomed to write upon long rolls, made either of the bark of trees, or of parchment, and afterwards of paper; and the czar was obliged to publish an edict, ordering every one, for the future, to write after our manner. the reformation now became general. their marriages were made formerly after the same manner as in turkey and persia, where the bridegroom does not see his bride till the contract is signed, and they can no longer go from their words. this custom may do well enough among those people, where polygamy prevails, and where the women are always shut up; but it is a very bad one in countries where a man is confined to one wife, and where divorces are seldom allowed. the czar was willing to accustom his people to the manners and customs of the nations which he had visited in his travels, and from whence he had taken the masters who were now instructing them. it appeared necessary that the russians should not be dressed in a different manner from those who were teaching them the arts and sciences; because the aversion to strangers, which is but too natural to mankind, is not a little kept up by a difference of dress. the full dress, which at that time partook of the fashions of the poles, the tartars, and the ancient hungarians, was, as we have elsewhere observed, very noble; but the dress of the burghers and common people resembled those jackets plaited round the waist, which are still given to the poor children in some of the french hospitals.[ ] in general, the robe was formerly the dress of all nations, as being a garment that required the least trouble and art; and, for the same reason, the beard was suffered to grow. the czar met with but little difficulty in introducing our mode of dress, and the custom of shaving among his courtiers; but the people were more obstinate, he found himself obliged to lay a tax on long coats and beards. patterns of close-bodied coats were hung up in public places; and whoever refused to pay the tax were obliged to suffer their robes and their beards to be curtailed: all this was done in a jocular manner, and this air of pleasantry prevented seditions. it has ever been the aim of all legislators to render mankind more sociable; but it is not sufficient to effect this end, that they live together in towns, there must be a mutual intercourse of civility. this intercourse sweetens all the bitterness of life. the czar, therefore, introduced those assemblies which the italians call _ridotti_. to these assemblies he invited all the ladies of his court, with their daughters; and they were to appear dressed after the fashions of the southern nations of europe. he was even himself at the pains of drawing up rules for all the little decorums to be observed at these social entertainments. thus, even to good breeding among his subjects, all was his own work, and that of time. to make his people relish these innovations the better, he abolished the word _golut_, _slave_, always made use of by the russians when they addressed their czar, or presented any petition to him; and ordered, that, for the future, they should make use of the word _raab_, which signifies _subject_. this alteration in no wise diminished the obedience due to the sovereign, and yet was the most ready means of conciliating their affections. every month produced some new change or institution. he carried his attention even to the ordering painted posts to be set up in the road between moscow and woronitz, to serve as mile stones at the distance of every verst; that is to say, every seven hundred paces, and had a kind of caravanseras, or public inns, built at the end of every twentieth verst. while he was thus extending his cares to the common people, to the merchants, and to the traveller, he thought proper to make an addition to the pomp and splendour of his own court; for though he hated pomp or show in his own person, he thought it necessary in those about him; he therefore instituted the order of st. andrew,[ ] in imitation of the several orders with which all the courts of europe abound. golowin, who succeeded le fort in the dignity of high admiral, was the first knight of this order. it was esteemed a high reward to have the honour of being admitted a member. it was a kind of badge that entitled the person who bore it to the respect of the people. this mark of honour costs nothing to the sovereign, and flatters the self-love of a subject, without rendering him too powerful. these many useful innovations were received with applause by the wiser part of the nation; and the murmurings and complaints of those who adhered to the ancient customs were drowned in the acclamations of men of sound judgment. while peter was thus beginning a new creation in the interior part of his state, he concluded an advantageous truce with the turks, which gave him the liberty to extend his territories on another side. mustapha the second, who had been defeated by prince eugene, at the battle of zeuta, in , stripped of the morea by the venetians, and unable to defend azoph, was obliged to make peace with his victorious enemies, which peace was concluded at carlowitz, (jan. , ,) between peterwaradin and salankamon, places made famous by his defeats. temeswaer was made the boundary of the german possessions, and of the ottoman dominions. kaminieck was restored to the poles; the morea, and some towns in dalmatia, which had been taken by the venetians, remained in their hands for some time; and peter the first continued in possession of casaph, and of a few forts built in its neighbourhood. it was not possible for the czar to extend his dominions on the side of turkey, without drawing upon him the forces of that empire, before divided, but now united. his naval projects were too vast for the palus mæotis, and the settlements on the caspian sea would not admit of a fleet of men of war: he therefore turned his views towards the baltic sea, but without relinquishing those in regard to the tanais and wolga. chap. xi. war with sweden.--the battle of narva. [sidenote: .] a grand scene was now opened on the frontiers of sweden. one of the principal causes of all the revolutions which happened from ingria, as far as dresden, and which laid waste so many countries for the space of eighteen years, was the abuse of the supreme power, by charles xi. king of sweden, father of charles xii. this is a fact which cannot be too often repeated, as it concerns every crowned head, and the subjects of every nation. almost all livonia, with the whole of esthonia, had been ceded by the poles to charles xi. king of sweden, who succeeded charles x. exactly at the time of the treaty of oliva. it was ceded in the customary manner, with a reservation of rights and privileges. charles xi. shewing little regard to these privileges, john reinhold patkul, a gentleman of livonia, came to stockholm in , at the head of six deputies from the province, and laid their complaints at the foot of the throne, in respectful, but strong terms.[ ] instead of an answer, the deputies were ordered to be imprisoned, and patkul was condemned to lose his honour and his life. but he lost neither, for he made his escape to the country of vaud, in switzerland, where he remained some time; when he afterwards was informed, that augustus, elector of saxony, had promised, at his accession to the throne of poland, to recover the provinces that had been wrested from that kingdom; he hastened to dresden, to represent to that prince, how easily he might make himself master of livonia, and revenge upon a king, only seventeen years of age, the losses that poland had sustained by his ancestors. at this very time czar peter entertained thoughts of seizing upon ingria and carelia. these provinces had formerly belonged to the russians, but the swedes had made themselves masters of them by force of arms, in the time of the false demetriuses, and had retained the possession of them by treaties: another war and new treaties might restore them again to russia. patkul went from dresden to moscow, and, by exciting up the two monarchs to avenge his private causes, he cemented a close union between them, and directed their preparations for invading all the places situated to the east and south of finland. just at this period, the new king of denmark, frederick iv. entered into an alliance with the czar and the king of poland, against charles, the young king of sweden, who seemed in no condition to withstand their united forces. patkul had the satisfaction of besieging the swedes in riga, the capital of livonia, and directing the attack in quality of major-general. the czar marched near eighty thousand men into ingria. it is true, that, in this numerous army, he had not more than twelve thousand good soldiers, being those he had disciplined himself; namely, the two regiments of guards, and some few others, the rest being a badly armed militia, with some cossacks, and circassian tartars; but he carried with him a train of a hundred and forty-five pieces of cannon. he laid siege to narva, a small town in ingria, that had a very commodious harbour, and it was generally thought the place would prove an easy conquest. sept.] it is known to all europe, how charles xii. when not quite eighteen years of age, made head against all his enemies, and attacked them one after another; he entered denmark, put an end to the war in that kingdom in less than six weeks, sent succours to riga, obliged the enemy to raise the siege, and marched against the russians encamped before narva, through the midst of ice and snow, in the month of november. the czar, who looked upon narva as already in his possession, was gone to novogorod, (nov. ,) and had taken with him his favourite, menzikoff, then a lieutenant in the company of bombardiers, of the preobrazinski regiment, and afterwards raised to the rank of field-marshal and prince; a man whose singular fortunes entitle him to be spoken of more at large in another place. peter left the command of the army, with his instructions for the siege, with the prince of croi; whose family came from flanders, and who had lately entered into the czar's service.[ ] prince dolgorouki acted as commissary of the army. the jealousy between these two chiefs, and the absence of the czar, were partly the occasion of the unparalleled defeat at narva. charles xii. having landed at pernau, in livonia, with his troops, in the month of october advanced northward to revel, where he defeated an advanced body of russians. he continued his march, and meeting with another body, routed that likewise. the runaways returned to the camp before narva, which they filled with consternation. the month of november was now far advanced; narva, though unskilfully besieged, was on the point of surrendering. the young king of sweden had not at that time above nine thousand men with him, and could bring only six pieces of cannon to oppose to a hundred and forty-five, with which the russian intrenchments were defended. all the relations of that time, and all historians without exception, concur in making the russian army then before narva amount to eighty thousand men. the memoirs with which i have been furnished say sixty thousand; be that as it may, it is certain, that charles had not quite nine thousand; and that this battle was one of those which have proved, that the greatest victories have been frequently gained by inferior numbers, ever since the famed one of arbela.[ ] nov. .] charles did not hesitate one moment to attack with his small troop this army, so greatly superior; and, taking advantage of a violent wind, and a great storm of snow, which blew directly in the faces of the russians, he attacked their intrenchments under cover of some pieces of cannon, which he had posted advantageously for the purpose. the russians had not time to form themselves in the midst of that cloud of snow, that beat full in their faces, and astonished by the discharge of cannon, that they could not see, and never imagined how small a number they had to oppose. the duke de croi attempted to give his orders, but prince dolgorouki would not receive them. the russian officers rose upon the german officers; the duke's secretary, with colonel lyon, and several others, were murdered. every one abandoned his post; and tumult, confusion, and a panic of terror, spread through the whole army. the swedish troops had nothing more to do, but to cut in pieces those who were flying. some threw themselves into the river narva, where great numbers were drowned; others threw down their arms, and fell upon their knees before the conquering swedes. the duke de croi, general alland, and the rest of the general officers, dreading the russians more than the swedes, went in a body and surrendered themselves prisoners to count steinbock. the king of sweden now made himself master of all the artillery. thirty thousand of the vanquished enemy laid down their arms at his feet, and filed off bare-headed and disarmed before him. prince dolgorouki, and all the russian generals, came and surrendered themselves, as well as the germans, but did not know till after they had surrendered, that they had been conquered by eight thousand men. amongst the prisoners, was the son of a king of georgia, whom charles sent to stockholm: his name was mittelesky czarovits, or czar's son, an additional proof that the title of czar, or tzar, had not its original from the roman cæsars. charles xii. did not lose more than one thousand two hundred men in this battle. the czar's journal, which has been sent me from petersburg, says, that including those who died at the siege of narva, and in the battle, and those who were drowned in their flight, the russians lost no more than six thousand men. want of discipline, and a panic that seized the army, did all the work of that fatal day. the number of those made prisoners of war, was four times greater than that of the conquerors; and if we may believe norberg,[ ] count piper, who was afterwards taken prisoner by the russians, reproached them, that the number of their people made prisoners in the battle, exceeded by eight times the number of the whole swedish army. if this is truth, the swedes must have made upwards of seventy-two thousand prisoners. this shews how seldom writers are well informed of particular circumstances. one thing, however, equally incontestable and extraordinary, is, that the king of sweden permitted one half of the russian soldiers to retire back, after having disarmed them, and the other half to repass the river, with their arms; by this unaccountable presumption, restoring to the czar troops that, being afterwards well disciplined, became invincible.[ ] charles had all the advantages that could result from a complete victory. immense magazines, transports loaded with provisions, posts evacuated or taken, and the whole country at the mercy of the swedish army, were consequences of the fortune of this day. narva was now relieved, the shattered remains of the russian army did not shew themselves; the whole country as far as pleskow lay open; the czar seemed bereft of all resource for carrying on the war; and the king of sweden, victor in less than twelve months over the monarchs of denmark, poland, and russia, was looked upon as the first prince in europe, at an age when other princes hardly presume to aspire at reputation. but the unshaken constancy that made a part of peter's character, prevented him from being discouraged in any of his projects. a russian bishop composed a prayer to st. nicholas,[ ] on account of this defeat, which was publicly read in all the churches throughout russia. this composition shews the spirit of the times, and the inexpressible ignorance from which peter delivered his country. amongst other things, it says, that the furious and terrible swedes were sorcerers; and complains that st. nicholas had entirely abandoned his russians. the prelates of that country would blush to write such stuff at present; and, without any offence to the holy st. nicholas, the people soon perceived that peter was the most proper person to be applied to, to retrieve their losses. chap. xii. resources after the battle of narva. that disaster entirely repaired. peter gains a victory near the same place. the person who was afterwards empress made prisoner at the storming of a town. peter's successes. his triumph at moscow.[ ] the years and . the czar having, as has been already observed, quitted his army before narva, in the end of november, , in order to go and concert matters with the king of poland, received the news of the victory gained by the swedes, as he was on his way. his constancy in all emergencies was equal to the intrepidity and valour of charles. he deferred the conference with augustus, and hastened to repair the disordered state of his affairs. the scattered troops rendezvoused at great novogorod, and from thence marched to pleskow, on the lake peipus. it was not a little matter to be able to stand upon the defensive, after so severe a check: 'i know very well,' said peter, 'that the swedes will have the advantage of us for some time, but they will teach us at length to conquer them.' .] having provided for the present emergency, and ordered recruits to be raised on every side, he sent to moscow to cast new cannon, his own having been all taken before narva. there being a scarcity of metal, he took all the bells of the churches, and of the religious houses in moscow. this action did not savour much of superstition, but at the same time it was no mark of impiety. with those bells he made one hundred large cannon, one hundred and forty-three field-pieces, from three to six pounders, besides mortars and howitzers, which were all sent to pleskow. in other countries the sovereign orders, and others execute; but here the czar was obliged to see every thing done himself. while he was hastening these preparations, he entered into a negotiation with the king of denmark, who engaged to furnish him with three regiments of foot, and three of cavalry; an engagement which that monarch could not fulfil. as soon as this treaty was signed, he hurried to the theatre of war. he had an interview with king augustus, at birzen, (feb. .) on the frontiers of courland and lithuania. his object was, to confirm that prince in his resolution of maintaining the war against charles xii. and at the same time to engage the polish diet to enter into the quarrel. it is well known, that a king of poland is no more than the head person in a republic. the czar had the advantage of being always obeyed; but the kings of poland, and england, at present the king of sweden, are all obliged to treat with their subjects.[ ] patkul and a few poles in the interest of their monarch, assisted at these conferences. peter promised to aid them with subsidies, and an army of twenty-five thousand men. livonia was to be restored to poland, in case the diet would concur with their king, and assist in recovering this province: the diet hearkened more to their fears, than to the czar's proposals. the poles were apprehensive of having their liberties restrained by the saxons and russians, and were still more afraid of charles xii. it was therefore agreed by the majority, not to serve their king, and not to fight. the partisans of augustus grew enraged against the contrary faction, and a civil war was lighted up in the kingdom; because their monarch had an intention to restore to it a considerable province. feb.] peter then had only an impotent ally in king augustus, and feeble succours in the saxon troops; and the terror which charles xii. inspired on every side, reduced peter to the necessity of depending entirely upon his own strength. march .] after travelling with the greatest expedition from moscow to courland, to confer with augustus: he posted back from courland to moscow, to forward the accomplishment of his promises. he actually dispatched prince repnin, with four thousand men, to riga, on the banks of the duna, where the saxon troops were intrenched. july.] the general consternation was now increased; for charles, passing the duna in spite of all the saxons, who were advantageously posted on the opposite side, gained a complete victory over them; and then, without waiting a moment, he made himself master of courland, advanced into lithuania, and by his presence encouraged the polish faction that opposed augustus. peter, notwithstanding all this, still pursued his designs. general patkul, who had been the soul of the conference at birzen, and who had engaged in his service, procured him some german officers, disciplined his troops, and supplied the place of general le fort: the czar ordered relays of horses to be provided for all the officers, and even for the german, livonian, and polish soldiers, who came to serve in his armies. he likewise inspected in person into every particular relating to their arms, their clothing, and subsistence. on the confines of livonia and esthonia, and to the eastward of the province of novogorod, lies the great lake peipus, which receives the waters of the river velika, from out of the middle of livonia, and gives rise in its northern part to the river naiova, that washes the walls of the town of narva, near which the swedes gained their famous victory. this lake is upwards of thirty leagues in length, and from twelve to fifteen in breadth. it was necessary to keep a fleet there, to prevent the swedish ships from insulting the province of novogorod; to be ready to make a descent upon their coasts, and above all, to be a nursery for seamen. peter employed the greatest part of the year , in building on this lake an hundred half gallies, to carry about fifty men each; and other armed barks were fitted out on the lake ladoga. he directed all these operations in person, and set his new sailors to work: those who had been employed in , at the palus mæotis were then stationed near the baltic. he frequently quitted those occupations to go to moscow, and the rest of the provinces, in order to enforce the observance of the late customs he had introduced, or to establish new ones. those princes who have employed the leisure moments of peace in raising public works, have acquired to themselves a name: but that peter, just after his misfortune at narva, should apply himself to the junction of the baltic, caspian, and the black seas, by canals, has crowned him with more real glory than the most signal victory. it was in the year , that he began to dig that deep canal, intended to join the tanais and the wolga. other communications were likewise to be made, by means of lakes between the tanais and the duna; whose waters empty themselves into the baltic, in the neighbourhood of riga. but this latter project seemed to be still at a great distance, as peter was far from having riga in his possession. while charles was laying all poland waste, peter caused to be brought from that kingdom, and from saxony, a number of shepherds, with their flocks, in order to have wool fit for making good cloth; he likewise erected manufactories of linen and paper: gave orders for collecting a number of artificers; such as smiths, braziers, armourers, and founders, and the mines of siberia were ransacked for ore. thus was he continually labouring for the embellishment and defence of his dominions. charles pursued the course of his victories, and left a sufficient body of troops, as he imagined, on the frontiers of the czar's dominions, to secure all the possessions of sweden. he had already formed a design to dethrone augustus, and afterwards to pursue the czar with his victorious army to the very gates of moscow. there happened several slight engagements in the course of this year, between the russians and swedes, in which the latter did not always prove superior; and even in those where they had the advantage, the russians improved in the art of war. in short, in little more than twelve months after the battle of narva, the czar's troops were so well disciplined, that they defeated one of the best generals belonging to the king of sweden. peter was then at pleskow, from whence he detached numerous bodies of troops, on all sides, to attack the swedes; who were now defeated by a native of russia, and not a foreigner. his general, sheremeto, by a skilful manoeuvre, beat up the quarters of the swedish general, slipenbak, in several places, near derpt, on the frontiers of livonia; and at last obtained a victory over that officer himself. (jan. , .) and now, for the first time, the russians took from the swedes four of their colours; which was thought a considerable number. may.] the lakes peipus and ladoga were for some time afterwards the theatres of sea-fights between the russians and swedes; in which the latter had the same advantages as by land: namely, that of discipline and long practice; but the russians had some few successes with their half gallies, at the lake peipus, and the field-marshal sheremeto took a swedish frigate. by means of this lake, the czar kept livonia and esthonia in continual alarms; his gallies frequently landed several regiments in those provinces; who reimbarked whenever they failed of success, or else pursued their advantage: the swedes were twice beaten in the neighbourhood of derpt, (june, july,) while they were victorious every where else. in all these actions the russians were always superior in number; for this reason, charles xii. who was so successful in every other place, gave himself little concern about these trifling advantages gained by the czar: but he should have considered, that these numerous forces of his rival were every day growing more accustomed to the business of fighting, and might soon become formidable to himself. while both parties were thus engaged, by sea and land, in livonia, ingria, and esthonia, the czar is informed that a swedish fleet had set sail, in order to destroy archangel; upon which he immediately marched thither, and every one was astonished to hear of him on the coasts of the frozen sea, when he was thought to be at moscow. he put the town into a posture of defence, prevented the intended descent, drew the plan of a citadel, called the new dwina, laid the first stone, and then returned to moscow, and from thence to the seat of war. charles made some alliances in poland; but the russians, on their side, made a progress in ingria and livonia. marshal sheremeto marched to meet the swedish army, under the command of slipenbak, gave that general battle near the little river embac, and defeated him, taking sixteen colours, and twenty pieces of cannon. norberg places this action on the first of december, ; but the journal of peter the great, fixes it on the nineteenth of july, . th aug.] after this advantage, the russian general marched onwards, laid the whole country under contributions, and takes the little town of marienburg, on the confines of ingria and livonia. there are several towns of this name in the north of europe; but this, though it no longer exists, is more celebrated in history than all the others, by the adventure of the empress catherine. this little town, having surrendered at discretion, the swedes, who defended it, either through mistake or design, set fire to the magazine. the russians, incensed at this, destroyed the town, and carried away all the inhabitants. among the prisoners was a young woman, a native of livonia, who had been brought up in the house of a lutheran minister of that place, named gluck, and who afterwards became the sovereign of those who had taken her captive, and who governed russia by the name of the empress catherine. there had been many instances before this, of private women being raised to the throne; nothing was more common in russia, and in all asiatic kingdoms, than for crowned heads to marry their own subjects; but that a poor stranger, who had been taken prisoner in the storming of a town, should become the absolute sovereign of that very empire, whither she was led captive, is an instance which fortune never produced before nor since in the annals of the world. the russian arms proved equally successful in ingria: for their half gallies on the lake ladoga compelled the swedish fleet to retire to wibourg,[ ] a town at the other extremity of this great lake, from whence they could see the siege of the fortress of notebourg, which was then carrying on by general sheremeto. this was an undertaking of much greater importance than was imagined at that time, as it might open a communication with the baltic sea, the constant aim of peter the great. notebourg was a strong fortified town, built on an island in the lake ladoga, which it entirely commands, and by that means, whoever is in possession of it, must be masters of that part of the river neva, which falls into the sea not far from thence. the russians bombarded the town night and day, from the th of september to the th october; and at length gave a general assault by three breaches. the swedish garrison was reduced to a hundred men only capable of defending the place; and, what is very astonishing, they did defend it, and obtain, even in the breach, an honourable capitulation: moreover, colonel slipenbak, who commanded there, would not surrender the town, but on condition of being permitted to send for two swedish officers from the nearest post, to examine the breaches (oct. .), in order to be witnesses for him to the king his master, that eighty-three men, who were all then left of the garrison capable of bearing arms, besides one hundred and fifty sick and wounded, did not surrender to a whole army, till it was impossible for them to fight longer, or to preserve the place. this circumstance alone shews what sort of an enemy the czar had to contend with, and the necessity there was of all his great efforts and military discipline. he distributed gold medals among his officers on this occasion, and gave rewards to all the private men; except a few, whom he punished for running away during the assault. their comrades spit in their faces, and afterwards shot them to death; thus adding ignominy to punishment. notebourg was repaired, and its name changed to that of shlusselburg, or the city of the key; that place being the key of ingria and finland. the first governor was that menzikoff, whom we have already mentioned, and who was become an excellent officer, and had merited this honour by his gallant behaviour during the siege. his example served as an encouragement to all who have merit without being distinguished by birth. after this campaign of , the czar resolved that sheremeto, and the officers who had signalized themselves, should make a triumphal entry into moscow. (dec. .) all the prisoners taken in this campaign marched in the train of the victors, who had the swedish colours and standards carried before them, together with the flag of the swedish frigate taken on the lake peipus. peter assisted in the preparations for this triumphal pomp, as he had shared in the great actions it celebrated. these shows naturally inspired emulation, otherwise they would have been no more than idle ostentation. charles despised every thing of this kind, and, after the battle of narva, held his enemies, their efforts, and their triumphs, in equal contempt. chap. xiii. reformation at moscow.--further successes.--founding of petersburg.--the czar takes narva, &c. the short stay which the czar made at moscow, in the beginning of the winter , was employed in seeing all his new regulations put into execution, and in improving the civil as well as the military government. even his very amusements were calculated to inspire his subjects with a taste for the new manner of living he had introduced amongst them. in this view, he invited all the boyards, and principal ladies of moscow, to the marriage of one of his sisters, at which every one was required to appear dressed after the ancient fashion. a dinner was served up just in the same manner as those in the sixteenth century.[ ] by an old superstitious custom, no one was to light a fire on the wedding-day, even in the coldest season. this custom was rigorously observed upon this occasion. the russians formerly never drank wine, but only mead and brandy; no other liquors were permitted on this day, and, when the guests made complaints, he replied, in a joking manner, 'this was a custom with your ancestors, and old customs are always the best.' this raillery contributed greatly to the reformation of those who preferred past times to the present, at least it put a stop to their murmurings; and there are several nations that stand in need of the like example. a still more useful establishment than any of the rest, was that of a printing-press, for russian and latin types; the implements of which were all brought from holland. they began by printing translations in the russian language of several books of morality and polite literature. ferguson founded schools for geometry, astronomy, and navigation. another foundation, no less necessary, was that of a large hospital; not one of those houses which encourage idleness, and perpetuate the misery of the people, but such as the czar had seen at amsterdam, where old persons and children are employed at work, and where every one within the walls is made useful in some way or other. he established several manufactories; and, as soon he had put in motion all those arts to which he gave birth in moscow, he hastened to woronitz, to give directions for building two ships, of eighty guns each, with long cradles, or caserns, fitted to the ribs of the vessel, to buoy her up, and carry her safely over the shoals and banks of sand that lay about azoph; an ingenious contrivance, similar to that used by the dutch in holland, to get their large ships over the pampus. having made all the necessary preparations against the turks, he turned his attention, in the next place, against the swedes. he went to visit the ships that were building at olonitz (march , .), a town between the lakes ladago and onega, where he had established a foundry for making all kinds of arms; and, when every thing bore a military aspect, at moscow flourished all the arts of peace. a spring of mineral waters, which has been lately discovered near olonitz, has added to the reputation of that place. from thence he proceeded to shlusselburg, which he fortified. we have already observed, that peter was determined to pass regularly through all the military degrees: he had served as lieutenant of bombardiers, under prince menzikoff, before that favourite was made governor of shlusselburg, and he now took the rank of captain, and served under marshal sheremeto. there was an important fortress near the lake ladoga, and not far from the river neva, named nyantz, or nya.[ ] it was necessary to make himself master of this place, in order to secure his conquest, and favour his other designs. he therefore undertook to transport a number of small barks, filled with soldiers, and to drive off the swedish vessels that were bringing supplies, while sheremeto had the care of the trenches. (may .) the citadel surrendered, and two swedish vessels arrived, too late to assist the besieged, being both attacked and taken by the czar. his journal says, that, as a reward for his service, 'the captain of bombardiers was created knight of the order of st. andrew by admiral golowin, the first knight of that order.' after the taking of the fort of nya, he resolved upon building the city of petersburg, at the mouth of the neva, upon the gulf of finland. the affairs of king augustus were in a desperate way; the excessive victories of the swedes in poland had emboldened his enemies in the opposition; and even his friends had obliged him to dismiss a body of twenty thousand russians, that the czar had sent him to reinforce his army. they thought, by this sacrifice, to deprive the malcontents of all pretext for joining the king of sweden: but enemies are disarmed by force, a show of weakness serving only to make them more insolent. these twenty thousand men, that had been disciplined by patkul, proved of infinite service in livonia and ingria, while augustus was losing his dominions. this reinforcement, and, above all, the possession of nya, enabled the czar to found his new capital. it was in this barren and marshy spot of ground, which has communication with the main land only by one way, that peter laid the foundation of petersburg, in the sixtieth degree of latitude, and the forty-fourth and a half of longitude. the ruins of some of the bastions of nya was made use of for the first stones of the foundation.[ ] they began by building a small fort upon one of the islands, which is now in the centre of the city. the swedes beheld, without apprehension, a settlement in the midst of a morass, and inaccessible to vessels of burden; but, in a very short time, they saw the fortifications advanced, a town raised, and the little island of cronstadt, situated over against it, changed, in , into an impregnable fortress, under the cannon of which even the largest fleets may ride in safety. these works, which seemed to require a time of profound peace, were carried on in the very bosom of war; workmen of every sort were called together, from moscow, astracan, casan, and the ukraine, to assist in building the new city. neither the difficulties of the ground, that was to be rendered firm, and raised, the distance of the necessary materials, the unforeseen obstacles, which are for ever starting up in all great undertakings; nor, lastly, the epidemical disorder, which carried off a prodigious number of the workmen, could discourage the royal founder; and, in the space of five months, a new city rose from the ground. it is true, indeed, it was little better than a cluster of huts, with only two brick houses, surrounded by ramparts; but this was all that was then necessary. time and perseverance accomplished the rest. in less than five months, after the founding of petersburg, a dutch ship came to trade there, (nov.) the captain of which was handsomely rewarded, and the dutch soon found the way to petersburg. while peter was directing the establishment of this colony, he took care to provide every day for its safety, by making himself master of the neighbouring posts. a swedish colonel, named croniort, had taken post on the river sestra, and thence threatened the rising city. peter, without delay, marched against him with his two regiments of guards, defeated him, (july .) and obliged him to repass the river. having thus put his town in safety, he repaired to olonitz,(sep.) to give directions for building a number of small vessels, and afterwards returned to petersburg, on board a frigate that had been built by his direction, taking with him six transport vessels, for present use, till the others could be got ready. even at this juncture he did not forget his ally, the king of poland, but sent him (nov.) a reinforcement of twelve thousand foot, and a subsidy in money of three hundred thousand rubles, which make about one million five hundred thousand french livres.[ ] it has been remarked, that his annual revenue did not exceed then five million rubles; a sum, which the expense of his fleets, of his armies, and of his new establishments, seemed more than sufficient to exhaust. he had, at almost one and the same time, fortified novogorod, pleskow, kiow, smolensko, azoph, archangel, and founded a capital. notwithstanding all which, he had still a sufficiency left to assist his ally with men and money. cornelius le bruine, a dutchman, who was on his travels, and at that time in russia, and with whom he frequently conversed very freely, as indeed he did with all strangers, says, that the czar himself assured him, that he had still three hundred thousand rubles remaining in his coffers, after all the expenses of the war were defrayed. in order to put his infant city of petersburg out of danger of insult, he went in person to sound the depth of water thereabouts, fixed upon a place for building the fort of cronstadt; and, after making the model of it in wood with his own hands, he employed prince menzikoff to put it in execution. from thence he went to pass the winter at moscow, (nov. .) in order to establish, by degrees, the several alterations he had made in the laws, manners, and customs of russia. he regulated the finances, and put them upon a new footing. he expedited the works that were carrying on in the woronitz, at azoph, and in a harbour which he had caused to be made on the palus mæotis, under the fort of taganrock. jan. .] the ottoman porte, alarmed at these preparations, sent an embassy to the czar, complaining thereof: to which he returned for answer that he was master in his own dominions, as well as the grand seignior was in turkey, and that it was no infringement of the peace to render the russian power respectable on the euxine sea. march .] upon his return to petersburg, finding his new citadel of cronstadt, which had been founded in the bosom of the sea, completely finished, he furnished it with the necessary artillery. but, in order to settle himself firmly in ingria, and entirely to repair the disgrace he had suffered before narva, he esteemed it necessary to take that city. while he was making preparations for the siege, a small fleet appeared on the lake of peipus, to oppose his designs. the russian half galleys went out to meet them, gave them battle, and took the whole squadron, which had on board ninety-eight pieces of cannon. after this victory, the czar lays siege to narva both by sea and land, (april.) and, which was most extraordinary, he lays siege to the city of derpt in esthonia at the same time. who would have imagined, that there was a university in derpt? gustavus adolphus had founded one there, but it did not render that city more famous, derpt being only known by these two sieges. peter was incessantly going from the one to the other, forwarding the attacks, and directing all the operations. the swedish general slipenbak was in the neighbourhood of derpt, with a body of two thousand five hundred men. the besiegers expected every instant when he would throw succours into the place; but peter, on this occasion, had recourse to a stratagem worthy of more frequent imitation: he ordered two regiments of foot, and one of horse, to be clothed in the same uniform, and to carry the same standards and colours as the swedes: these sham swedes attack the trenches, (june .) and the russians pretend to be put to flight; the garrison, deceived by appearances, make a sally; upon which the mock combatants join their forces and fall upon the swedes, one half of whom were left dead upon the place, and the rest made shift to get back to the town. slipenbak arrives soon after with succours to relieve it, but is totally defeated. at length derpt was obliged to capitulate, (july .) just as the czar was preparing every thing for a general assault. at the same time peter met with a considerable check, on the side of his new city of petersburg; but this did not prevent him either from going on with the works of that place, or from vigorously prosecuting the siege of narva. it has already been observed, that he sent a reinforcement of troops and money to king augustus, when his enemies were driving him from his throne; but both these aids proved useless. the russians having joined the lithuanians in the interest of augustus, were totally defeated in courland by the swedish general levenhaupt: (july .) and had the victors directed their efforts towards livonia, esthonia, and ingria, they might have destroyed the czar's new works, and baffled all the fruits of his great undertakings. peter was every day sapping the breast-work of sweden, while charles seemed to neglect all resistance, for the pursuit of a less advantageous, though a more brilliant fame. on the th of july, , only a single swedish colonel, at the head of his detachment, obliged the polish nobility to nominate a new king, on the field of election, called kolo, near the city of warsaw. the cardinal-primate of the kingdom, and several bishops, submitted to a lutheran prince, notwithstanding the menaces and excommunications of the supreme pontiff: in short, every thing gave way to force. all the world knows in what manner stanislaus leczinsky was elected king, and how charles xii. obliged the greatest part of poland to acknowledge him. peter, however, would not abandon the dethroned king, but redoubled his assistance, in proportion to the necessities of his ally; and, while his enemy was making kings, he beat the swedish generals one after another in esthonia and ingria; from thence he passed to the siege of narva, and gave several vigorous assaults to the town. there were three bastions, famous at least for their names, called victory, honour, and glory. the czar carried them all three sword-in-hand. the besiegers forced their way into the town, where they pillaged and exercised all those cruelties which were but too customary at that time, between the swedes and russians. august .] peter, on this occasion, gave an example that ought to have gained him the affections of all his new subjects: he ran every where in person, to put a stop to the pillage and slaughter, rescues several women out of the clutches of the brutal soldiery, and, after having, with his own hand, killed two of those ruffians who had refused to obey his orders, he enters the town-house, whither the citizens had ran in crowds for shelter, and laying his sword, yet reeking with blood, upon the table--'this sword,' said he, 'is not stained with the blood of your fellow citizens, but with that of my own soldiers, which i have spilt to save your lives'. chap. xiv. peter the great keeps possession of all ingria, while charles xii. is triumphant in other places.--rise of menzikoff.--petersburg secured.--the czar executes his designs notwithstanding the victories of the king of sweden.[ ] [sidenote: .] peter being now master of all ingria, conferred the government of that province upon menzikoff; and at the same time gave him the title of prince, and the rank of major-general. pride and prejudice might, in other countries, find means to gainsay, that a pastry cook's boy should be raised to be a general and governor, and to princely dignity; but peter had already accustomed his subjects to see, without surprise, every thing given to merit, and nothing to mere nobility. menzikoff, by a lucky accident, had, while a boy, been taken from his original obscurity, and placed in the czar's family,[ ] where he learnt several languages, and acquired a knowledge of public affairs, both in the cabinet and field; and having found means to ingratiate himself with his master, he afterwards knew how to render himself necessary. he greatly forwarded the works at petersburg, of which he had the direction; several brick and stone houses were already built, with an arsenal and magazines; the fortifications were completed, but the palaces were not built till some time afterwards. peter was scarcely settled in narva, when he offered fresh succours to the dethroned king of poland; he promised him a body of troops over and above the twelve thousand men he had already sent him, and actually dispatched general repnin (aug. .) from the frontiers of lithuania, with six thousand horse, and the same number of foot. all this while he did not lose sight of his colony of petersburg: the buildings went on very fast; his navy encreased daily; several ships and frigates were on the stocks at olmutz; these he took care to see finished, and brought them himself into the harbour of petersburg. oct. .] each time he returned to moscow, was distinguished by triumphal entries. in this manner did he revisit it this year, from whence he made only one excursion, to be present at the launching of his first ship of eighty guns upon the woronitz, (dec. .) of which ship he himself had drawn the dimensions the preceding year. may, .] as soon as the campaign could be opened in poland, he hastened to the army, which he had sent to the assistance of augustus, on the frontiers of that kingdom; but, while he was thus supporting his ally, a swedish fleet put to sea, to destroy petersburg, and the fortress of cronslot, as yet hardly finished. this fleet consisted of twenty-two ships of war, from fifty-four to sixty-four guns each, besides six frigates, two bomb-ketches, and two fire-ships. the troops that were sent on this expedition, made a descent on the little island of kotin; but a russian colonel, named tolbogwin, who commanded a regiment there, ordered his soldiers to lie down flat on their bellies, while the swedes were coming on shore, and then suddenly rising up, they threw in so brisk and well directed a fire, that the swedes were put into confusion, and forced to retreat with the utmost precipitation to their ships, leaving behind them all their dead, and upwards of three hundred prisoners. (june .) however, their fleet still continued hovering about the coast, and threatened petersburg. they made another descent, and were repulsed as before (june .): a body of land-forces were also advancing from wiburn,[ ] under the command of the swedish general meidel, and took their route by shlusselburg: this was the most considerable attempt that charles had yet made upon those territories, which peter had either conquered or new formed. the swedes were every where repulsed, and petersburg remained in security. peter, on the other hand, advanced towards courland, with a design to penetrate as far as riga. his plan was to make himself master of livonia, while charles xii. was busied in reducing the poles entirely under the obedience of the new king he had given them. the czar was still at wilnaw in lithuania, and his general sheremeto was approaching towards mittau, the capital of courland; but there he was met by general levenhaupt, already famous by several victories, and a pitched battle was fought between the two armies at a place called gemavershoff, or gemavers. in all those actions where experience and discipline decide the day, the swedes, though inferior in number, had the advantage. the russians were totally defeated, (june .) and lost their artillery. peter, notwithstanding the loss of three battles, viz. at gemavers, at jacobstadt, and at narva, always retrieved his losses, and even converted them to his advantage. after the battle of gemavers, he marched his army into courland; came before mittau, made himself master of the town, and afterwards laid siege to the citadel, which he took by capitulation. sept. , .] the russian troops at that time had the character of distinguishing their successes by rapine and pillage; a custom of too great antiquity in all nations. but peter, at the taking of narva, had made such alterations in this custom, that the russian soldiers appointed to guard the vaults where the grand dukes of courland were buried, in the castle of mittau, perceiving that the bodies had been taken out of their tombs, and stripped of their ornaments, refused to take possession of their post, till a swedish colonel had been first sent for to inspect the condition of the place; who gave them a certificate that this outrage had been committed by the swedes themselves. a rumour which was spread throughout the whole empire, that the czar had been totally defeated at the battle of gemavers, proved of greater prejudice to his affairs, than even the loss of that battle. the remainder of the ancient strelitzes in garrison at astracan, emboldened by this false report, mutinied, and murdered the governor of the town. peter was obliged to send marshal sheremeto with a body of forces to quell the insurrection, and punish the mutineers. every thing seemed now to conspire against the czar; the success and valour of charles xii.; the misfortunes of augustus; the forced neutrality of denmark; the insurrection of the ancient strelitzes; the murmurs of a people, sensible of the restraint, but not of the utility of the late reform; the discontent of the grandees, who found themselves subjected to military discipline; and, lastly, the exhausted state of the finances, were sufficient to have discouraged any prince except peter: but he did not despond, even for an instant. he soon quelled the revolt, and having provided for the safety of ingria, and secured the possession of the citadel of mittau, in spite of the victorious levenhaupt, who had not troops enough to oppose him; he found himself at liberty to march an army through samojitia and lithuania. he now shared with charles xii. the glory of giving laws to poland. he advanced as far as tikoczin: where he had an interview for the second time with king augustus; when he endeavoured to comfort him under his misfortunes, promising to revenge his cause, and, at the same time, made him a present of some colours, which menzikoff had taken from the troops of his rival. the two monarchs afterwards went together to grodno, the capital of lithuania, where they staid till the th of december. at their parting, peter presented him both men and money, and then, according to his usual custom, went to pass some part of the winter at moscow, ( dec.) to encourage the arts and sciences there, and to enforce his new laws there, after having made a very difficult and laborious campaign. chap. xv. while peter is strengthening his conquests, and improving the police of his dominion, his enemy charles xii. gains several battles: gives laws to poland and saxony, and to augustus, notwithstanding a victory gained by the russians.--augustus resigns the crown, and delivers up patkul, the czar's ambassador.--murder of patkul, who is sentenced to be broke upon the wheel. [sidenote: .] peter was hardly returned to moscow, when he heard that charles xii. after being every where victorious, was advancing towards grodno, to attack the russian troops. king augustus had been obliged to fly from grodno, and retire with precipitation towards saxony, with four regiments of russian dragoons; a step which both weakened and discouraged the army of his protector. peter found all the advances to grodno occupied by the swedes, and his troops dispersed. while he was with the greatest difficulty assembling his troops in lithuania, the famous schullemburg, who was the last support augustus had left, and who afterwards gained so much glory by the defence of corfu against the turks, was advancing on the side of great poland, with about twelve thousand saxons, and six thousand russians, taken from the body troops with which the czar had entrusted that unfortunate prince. schullemburg expected with just reason, that he should be able to prop the sinking fortunes of augustus; he perceived that charles xii. was employed in lithuania, and that there was only a body of ten thousand swedes under general renschild to interrupt his march; he therefore advanced with confidence as far as the frontiers of silesia; which is the passage out of saxony into upper poland. when he came near the village of fraustadt, on the frontiers of that kingdom, he met marshal renschild, who was advancing to give him battle. whatever care i take to avoid repeating what has been already mentioned in the history of charles xii., i am obliged in this place to take notice once more, that there was in the saxon army a french regiment, that had been taken prisoners at the famous battle of hochsted (or blenheim) and obliged to serve in the saxon troops. my memoirs say, that this regiment had the charge of the artillery, and add, that the french, struck with the fame and reputation of charles xii., and discontented with the saxon service, laid down their arms as soon as they came in sight of the enemy (feb.), and desired to be taken into the swedish army, in which they continued to the end of the war. this defection was as the beginning, or signal of a total overthrow to the russian army, of which no more than three battalions were saved, and almost every man of these was wounded; and as no quarter was granted, the remainder was cut in pieces. norberg, the chaplain, pretends, that the swedish word at this battle was, 'in the name of god,' and that of the russians, 'kill all;' but it was the swedes who killed all in god's name. the czar himself declares, in one of his manifestoes,[ ] that a number of russians, cossacks, and calmucks, that had been made prisoners, were murdered in cool blood three days after that battle. the irregular troops on both sides had accustomed their generals to these cruelties, than which greater were never committed in the most barbarous times. i had the honour to hear king stanislaus himself say, that in one of those engagements which were so frequent in poland, a russian officer who had formerly been one of his friends, came to put himself under his protection, after the defeat of the corps he commanded; and that the swedish general steinbock shot him dead with a pistol, while he held him in his arms. this was the fourth battle the russians had lost against the swedes, without reckoning the other victories of charles xii. in poland. the czar's troops that were in grodno, ran the risk of suffering a still greater disgrace, by being surrounded on all sides; but he fortunately found means to get them together, and even to strengthen them with new reinforcements. but necessitated at once to provide for the safety of this army, and the security of his conquests in ingria, he ordered prince menzikoff to march with the army under his command eastward, and from thence southward as far as kiow. while his men were upon their march, he repairs to shlusselburg, from thence to narva, and to his colony of petersburg (august), and puts those places in a posture of defence. from the baltic he flies to the banks of the boristhenes, to enter into poland by the way of kiow, making it still his chief care to render those victories of charles, which he had not been able to prevent, of as little advantage to the victor as possible. at this very time he meditated a new conquest; namely, that of wibourg, the capital of carelia, situated on the gulf of finland. he went in person to lay siege to this place, but for this time it withstood the power of his arms; succours arrived in season, and he was obliged to raise the siege. (oct.) his rival, charles xii. did not, in fact, make any conquests, though he gained so many battles: he was at that time in pursuit of king augustus in saxony, being always more intent upon humbling that prince, and crushing him beneath the weight of his superior power and reputation, than upon recovering ingria, that had been wrested from him by a vanquished enemy. he spread terror through all upper poland, silesia, and saxony. king augustus's whole family, his mother, his wife, his son, and the principal nobility of the country, were retired into the heart of the empire. augustus now sued for peace, choosing rather to trust himself to the mercy of his conqueror, than in the arms of his protector. he entered into a treaty which deprived him of the crown of poland, and covered him at the same time with ignominy. this was a private treaty, and was to be concealed from the czar's generals, with whom he had taken refuge in poland, while charles xii. was giving laws in leipsic, and acting as absolute master throughout his electorate. his plenipotentiaries had already signed the fatal treaty (sept. .), by which he not only divested himself of the crown of poland, but promised never more to assume the title of king; at the same time he recognized stanislaus, renounced his alliance with the czar his benefactor; and, to complete his humiliation, engaged to deliver up to charles xii. john reinold patkul, the czar's ambassador and general in the russian service, who was then actually fighting in his cause. he had some time before ordered patkul to be arrested upon false suspicions, contrary to the law of nations; and now, in direct violation of these laws, he delivered him up to the enemy. it had been better for him to have died sword-in-hand, than to have concluded such a treaty; a treaty, which not only robbed him of his crown, and of his reputation, but likewise endangered his liberty, because he was at that time in the power of prince menzikoff in posnania, and the few saxons that he had with him, were paid by the russians. prince menzikoff was opposed in that district by a swedish army, reinforced with a strong party of poles, in the interest of the new king stanislaus, under the command of general meyerfeld; and not knowing that augustus had engaged in a treaty with the enemies of russia, had proposed to attack them, and augustus did not dare to refuse. the battle was fought near calish (oct. .), in the palatinate belonging to stanislaus; this was the first pitched battle the russians had gained against the swedes. prince menzikoff had all the glory of the action, four thousand of the enemy were left dead on the field, and two thousand five hundred and ninety-eight were made prisoners. it is difficult to comprehend how augustus could be prevailed on, after this battle, to ratify a treaty which deprived him of all the fruits of his victory. but charles was still triumphant in saxony, where his very name spread terror. the success of the russians appeared so inconsiderable, and the polish party against augustus was so strong, and, in fine, that monarch was so ill-advised, that he signed the fatal convention. neither did he stop here: he wrote to his envoy finkstein a letter, that was, if possible, more shameful than the treaty itself; for therein he asked pardon for having obtained a victory, 'protesting, that the battle had been fought against his will; that the russians and the poles, his adherents, had obliged him to it; that he had, with a view of preventing it, actually made some movements to abandon menzikoff; that meyerfeld might have beaten him, had he made the most of that opportunity; that he was ready to restore all the swedish prisoners, or to break with the russians; and that, in fine, he would give the king of sweden all possible satisfaction,' for having dared to beat his troops. this whole affair, unparalleled and inconceivable as it is, is, nevertheless, strictly true. when we reflect, that, with all this weakness, augustus was one of the bravest princes in europe, we may plainly perceive, that the loss or preservation, the rise or decline of empires, are entirely owing to fortitude of mind. two other circumstances concurred to complete the disgrace of the king of poland elector of saxony, and heighten the abuse which charles xii. made of his good fortune; the first was his obliging augustus to write a letter of congratulation to the new king stanislaus on his election: the second was terrible, he even compelled augustus to deliver up patkul, the czar's ambassador and general.[ ] it is sufficiently known to all europe, that this minister was afterwards broke alive upon the wheel at casimir, in the month of september, . norberg, the chaplain, confesses that the orders for his execution were all written in charles's own hand. there is not a civilian in all europe, nay even the vilest slave, but must feel the whole horror of this barbarous injustice. the first crime of this unfortunate man was, the having made an humble representation of the rights and privileges of his country, at the head of six livonian gentlemen, who were sent as deputies from the whole province: having been condemned to die for fulfilling the first of duties, that of serving his country agreeable to her laws. this iniquitous sentence put him in full possession of a right, which all mankind derive from nature, that of choosing his country. being afterwards made ambassador to one of the greatest monarchs in the universe, his person thereby became sacred. on this occasion the law of force violated that of nature and nations. in former ages cruelties of this kind were hidden in the blaze of success, but now they sully the glory of a conqueror. chap. xvi. attempts made to set up a third king of poland.--charles xii. sets out from saxony with a powerful army, and marches through poland in a victorious manner.--cruelties committed.--conduct of the czar.--successes of the king of sweden, who at length advances towards russia. [sidenote: .] charles xii. enjoyed the fruits of his good fortune in altranstadt near leipsic, whither the protestant princes of the german empire repaired in droves to pay homage to him, and implore his protection. he received ambassadors from almost all the potentates in europe. the emperor joseph implicitly followed his directions. peter then perceiving that king augustus had renounced his protection and his own crown, and that a part of the polish nation had acknowledged stanislaus, listened to the proposals made him by yolkova, of choosing a third king. a diet was held at lublin, in which several of the palatines were proposed; and among others, prince ragotski was put upon the list; that prince, who was so long kept in prison, when young, by the emperor leopold, and who afterwards when he procured his liberty, was his competitor for the throne of hungary. this negotiation was pushed very far, and poland was on the point of having three kings at one time. prince ragotski not succeeding, peter thought to bestow the crown on siniauski, grand general of the republic; a person of great power and interest, and head of a third party, that would neither acknowledge the dethroned king, nor the person elected by the opposed party. in the midst of these troubles, there was a talk of peace, as is customary on the like occasions. besseval the french envoy in saxony interposed, in order to bring about a reconciliation between the czar and the king of sweden. it was thought at that time by the court of france, that charles, having no longer either the russians or poles to fight against, might turn his arms against the emperor joseph, with whom he was not on very good terms, and on whom he had imposed several laws during his stay in saxony. but charles made answer, that he would treat with the czar in moscow. it was on this occasion that peter said, 'my brother charles wants to act the alexander, but he shall not find a darius in me.' the russians however were still in poland, and were in the city of warsaw, while the king whom charles xii. had set over the poles was hardly acknowledged by that nation. in the mean time, charles was enriching his army with the spoils of saxony. aug. .] at length he began his march from altranstadt, at the head of an army of forty-five thousand men; a force which it seemed impossible for the czar to withstand, seeing he had been entirely defeated by eight thousand only at narva. aug. .] it was in passing by the walls of dresden, that charles made that very extraordinary visit to king augustus, which, as norberg says, 'will strike posterity with admiration.' it was running an unaccountable risk, to put himself in the power of a prince whom he had deprived of his kingdom. from thence he continued his march through silesia, and re-entered poland. this country has been entirely ravaged by war, ruined by factions, and was a prey to every kind of calamity. charles continued advancing with his army through the province of muscovia, and chose the most difficult ways he could take. the inhabitants, who had taken shelter in the morasses, resolved to make him at least pay for his passage. six thousand peasants dispatched an old man of their body to speak to him: this man who was of a very extraordinary figure, clad in white, and armed with two carabines, made a speech to charles; but as the standers by did not well understand what he said, they, without any further ceremony, dispatched him in his harangue, and before their king's face. the peasants, in a rage, immediately withdrew, and took up arms. all who could be found were seized, and obliged to hang one another; the last was compelled to put the rope about his neck himself, and to be his own executioner. all their houses were burnt to the ground. this fact is attested by norberg, who was an eye-witness, and therefore cannot be contradicted, as it cannot be related without inspiring horror. , feb. .] charles being arrived within a few leagues of grodno in lithuania, is informed of the czar's being there in person with a body of troops; upon which, without staying to deliberate, he takes only eight hundred of his guards, and sets out for grodno. a german officer, named mulfels, who commanded a body of troops, posted at one of the gates of the town, making no doubt, when he saw charles, but that he was followed by his whole army, instead of disputing the passage with him, leaves it open, and takes to flight. the alarm is now spread through the whole town; every one imagines the whole swedish army already entered; the few russians who made any resistance, are cut in pieces by the swedish guards; and all the officers assure the czar, that the victorious army had made itself master of the place. hereupon peter retreats behind the ramparts, and charles plants a guard of thirty men at the very gate through which the czar had just before entered. in this confusion some of the jesuits, whose college had been taken to accommodate the king of sweden, as being the handsomest structure in the place, went by night to the czar, and for this time told the whole truth. upon this, peter immediately returns into the town, and forces the swedish guards. an engagement ensues in the streets and public places; but, at length, the whole swedish army appearing in sight, the czar is obliged to yield to superior numbers, and leaves the town in the hands of the victor, who made all poland tremble. charles had augmented his forces in livonia and finland, and peter had every thing to fear, not only for his conquests on this side, together with those in lithuania, but also for his ancient territories, and even for the city of moscow itself. he was obliged then to provide at once for the safety of all these different places, at such a distance from each other. charles could not make any rapid conquest to the eastward of lithuania in the depth of winter, and in a marshy country, subject to epidemical disorders, which had been spread by poverty and famine, from warsaw, as far as minski. peter posted his troops so as to command the passes of the rivers, (april .) guarded all the important posts, and did every thing in his power to impede the marches of his enemy, and afterwards hastened to put things in a proper situation at petersburg. though charles was lording it in poland, he took nothing from the czar; but peter, by the use he made of his new fleet, by landing his troops in finland, by the taking and dismantling the town of borgau, (may .) and by seizing a great booty, was procuring many real and great advantages to himself, and distressing his enemy. charles, after being detained a long time in lithuania, by continual rains, at length reached the little river of berezine, some few leagues from the boristhenes. nothing could withstand his activity: he threw a bridge over the river in sight of the russians; beat a detachment that guarded the passage, and got to holozin on the river bibitsch, where the czar had posted a considerable body of troops to check the impetuous progress of his rival. the little river of bibitsch is only a small brook in dry weather; but at this time it was swelled by the rains to a deep and rapid stream. on the other side was a morass, behind which the russians had thrown up an intrenchment for above a quarter of a league, defended by a large and deep ditch, and covered by a parapet, lined with artillery. nine regiments of horse, and eleven of foot, were advantageously posted in these lines, so that the passage of the river seemed impracticable. the swedes, according to the custom of war, got ready their pontoons, and erected batteries to favour their passage; but charles, whose impatience to engage would not let him brook the least delay, did not wait till the pontoons were ready. marshal schwerin, who served a long time under him, has assured me several times, that one day that they were to come to action, observing his generals to be very busy in concerting the necessary dispositions, said tartly to them, 'when will you have done with this trifling?' and immediately advanced in person at the head of his guards, which he did particularly on this memorable day. he flung himself into the river, followed by his regiment of guards. their numbers broke the impetuosity of the current, but the water was as high as their shoulders, and they could make no use of their firelocks. had the artillery of the parapet been but tolerably well served, or had the infantry but levelled their pieces in a proper manner, not a single swede would have escaped. july .] the king, after wading the river, passed the morass on foot. as soon as the army had surmounted these obstacles within sight of the russians, they drew up in order of battle, and attacked the enemies intrenchments seven different times, and it was not till the seventh attack that the russians gave way. by the accounts of their own historians, the swedes took but twelve field-pieces, and twenty-four mortars. it was therefore evident, that the czar had at length succeeded in disciplining his troops, and this victory of holozin, while it covered charles xii. with glory, might have made him sensible of the many dangers he must have to encounter in adventuring into such distant countries, where his army could march only in small bodies, through woods, morasses, and where he would be obliged to fight out every step of his way; but the swedes, being accustomed to carry all before them, dreaded neither danger nor fatigue.[ ] chap. xvii. charles xii. crosses the boristhenes, penetrates into the ukraine, but concerts his measures badly.--one of his armies is defeated by peter the great: he loses his supply of provisions and ammunition: advances forward through a desert country: his adventures in the ukraine. [sidenote: .] at last charles arrives on the borders of the boristhenes, at a small town called mohilow. this was the important spot where it was to be determined, whether he should direct his march eastward, towards moscow; or southwards, towards the ukraine. his own army, his friends, his enemies, all expected that he would direct his course immediately for the capital of russia. which ever way he took, peter was following him from smolensko with a strong army; no one expected that he would turn towards the ukraine. he was induced to take this strange resolution by mazeppa, hetman of the cossacks, who, being an old man of seventy and without children, ought to have thought only of ending his days in peace: gratitude should have bound him to the czar, to whom he was indebted for his present dignity; but whether he had any real cause of complaint against that prince, or that he was dazzled with the lustre of charles's exploits, or whether, in time, he thought to make himself independent, he betrayed his benefactor, and privately espoused the interests of the king of sweden, flattering himself with the hopes of engaging his whole nation in a rebellion with himself. charles made not the least doubt of subduing the russian empire, as soon as his troops should be joined by so warlike a people as the cossacks. mazeppa was to furnish him with what provisions, ammunition, and artillery, he should want; besides these powerful succours, he was to be joined by an army of sixteen or seventeen thousand men, out of livonia, under the command of general levenhaupt, who was to bring with him a prodigious quantity of warlike stores and provisions. charles was not at the trouble of reflecting, whether the czar was within reach of attacking the army, and depriving him of these necessary supplies. he never informed himself whether mazeppa was in a condition to observe his promises; if that cossack had credit enough to change the disposition of a whole nation, who are generally guided only by their own opinion; or whether his army was provided with sufficient resources in case of an accident; but imagined, if mazeppa should prove deficient in abilities or fidelity, he could trust in his own valour and good fortune. the swedish army then advanced beyond the boristhenes towards the desna; it was between these two rivers, that he expected to meet with mazeppa. his march was attended with many difficulties and dangers, on account of the badness of the road, and the many parties of russians that were hovering about these regions. sept. .] menzikoff, at the head of some horse and foot, attacked the king's advanced guard, threw them into disorder, and killed a number of his men. he lost a great number of his own, indeed, but that did not discourage him. charles immediately hastened to the field of battle, and with some difficulty repulsed the russians, at the hazard of his own life, by engaging a party of dragoons, by whom he was surrounded. all this while mazeppa did not appear, and provisions began to grow scarce. the swedish soldiers, seeing their king share in all their dangers, fatigues, and wants, were not dispirited; but though they admired his courage, they could not refrain from murmuring at his conduct. the orders which the king had sent to levenhaupt to march forward with all haste, to join him with the necessary supplies, were not delivered by twelve days so soon as they should have been. this was a long delay as circumstances then stood. however, levenhaupt at length began his march; peter suffered him to pass the boristhenes, but as soon as his army was got between that river and the lesser ones, which empty themselves into it, he crossed over after him, and attacked him with his united forces, which had followed in different corps at equal distances from one another. this battle was fought between the boristhenes and the sossa.[ ] prince menzikoff was upon his return with the same body of horse, with which he had lately engaged charles xii. general baur followed him, and the czar himself headed the flower of his army. the swedes imagined they had to deal with an army of forty thousand men, and the same was believed for a long time on the faith of their relation; but my late memoirs inform me, that peter had only twenty thousand men in this day's engagement, a number not much superior to that of the enemy: but his vigour, his patience, his unwearied perseverance, together with that of his troops, animated by his presence, decided the fate, not of that day only, but of three successive days, during which the fight was renewed at different times. they made their first attack upon the rear of the swedish army, near the village of lesnau, from whence this battle borrows its name. this first shock was bloody, without proving decisive. levenhaupt retreated into a wood, and thereby saved his baggage. (oct. .) the next morning, when the swedes were to be driven from this wood, the fight was still more bloody, and more to the advantage of the russians. here it was that the czar, seeing his troops in disorder, cried out to fire upon the runaways, and even upon himself, if they saw him turn back. the swedes were repulsed, but not thrown into confusion. at length a reinforcement of four thousand dragoons arriving, he fell upon the swedes a third time; who retreated to a small town called prospock, where they were again attacked; they then marched towards the desna, the russians still pursuing them: yet they were never broken, but lost upwards of eight thousand men, seventeen pieces of cannon, and forty-four colours: the czar took fifty-six officers and near nine hundred private men prisoners; and the great convoy of provisions and ammunition that were going to charles's army, fell into the hands of the conqueror. this was the first time that the czar in person gained a pitched battle, against an enemy who had distinguished himself by so many victories over his troops: he was employed in a general thanksgiving for his success, when he received advice that general apraxin had lately gained an advantage over the enemy in ingria, (sept. ,) some leagues from narva, an advantage less considerable indeed than that of lesnau; but this concurrence of fortunate events greatly raised the hopes and courage of his troops. charles xii. heard of these unfortunate tidings just as he was ready to pass the desna, in the ukraine. mazeppa at length joined him; but instead of twenty thousand men, and an immense quantity of provisions, which he was to have brought with him, he came with only two regiments, and appeared rather like a fugitive applying for assistance, than a prince, who was bringing powerful succours to his ally. this cossack had indeed begun his march with near fifteen or sixteen thousand of his people, whom he had told, at their first setting out, that they were going against the king of sweden; that they would have the glory of stopping that hero on his march, and that he would hold himself eternally obliged to them for so great a service. but when they came within a few leagues of the desna, he made them acquainted with his real design. these brave people received his declaration with disdain: they refused to betray a monarch, against whom they had no cause of complaint, for the sake of a swede, who had invaded their country with an armed force, and who, after leaving it, would be no longer able to defend them, but must abandon them to the mercy of the incensed russians, and of the poles, once their masters, and always their enemies: they accordingly returned home, and gave advice to the czar of the defection of their chief: mazeppa found himself left with only two regiments, the officers of which were in his own pay. he was still master of some strong posts in the ukraine, and in particular of bathurin, the place of his residence, looked upon as the capital of the country of the cossacks: it is situated near some forests on the desna, at a great distance from the place where peter had defeated general levenhaupt. there were always some russian regiments quartered in these districts. prince menzikoff was detached from the czar's army, and got thither by round-about marches. charles could not secure all the passes; he did not even know them all, and had neglected to make himself master of the important post of starowdoub, which leads directly to the bathurin, across seven or eight leagues of forest, through which the desna directs its course. his enemy had always the advantage of him, by being better acquainted with the country. menzikoff and prince galitzin, who had accompanied him, easily made their passage good, and presented themselves before the town of bathurin, (nov. ,) which surrendered almost without resistance, was plundered, and reduced to ashes. the russians made themselves masters of a large magazine destined for the use of the king of sweden, and of all mazeppa's treasures. the cossacks chose another hetman, named skoropasky, who was approved by the czar, who being willing to impress a due sense of the enormous crime of treason on the minds of the people, by a striking example of justice, the archbishop of kiow, and two other prelates, were ordered to excommunicate mazeppa publicly, (nov. ,) after which he was hanged in effigy, and some of his accomplices were broken upon the wheel. in the meanwhile, charles xii. still at the head of about twenty-five or twenty-seven thousand swedes, who were reinforced by the remains of levenhaupt's army, and the addition of between two or three thousand men, whom mazeppa had brought with him, and still infatuated with the same notion of making all the ukraine declare for him, passed the desna at some distance from bathurin, and near the boristhenes, in spite of the czar's troops which surrounded him on all sides; part of whom followed close in the rear, while another part lined the opposite side of the river to oppose his passage. he continued his march through a desert country, where he met with nothing but burned or ruined villages. the cold began to set in at the beginning of december so extremely sharp, that in one of his marches near two thousand of his men perished before his eyes: the czar's troops did not suffer near so much, being better supplied; whereas the king of sweden's army, being almost naked, was necessarily more exposed to the inclemency of the weather. in this deplorable situation, count piper, chancellor of sweden, who never gave his master other than good advice, conjured him to halt, and pass at least the severest part of the winter in a small town of the ukraine, called romna, where he might intrench himself, and get some provisions by the help of mazeppa; but charles replied, that--he was not a person to shut himself up in a town. piper then intreated him to re-pass the desna and the boristhenes, to return back into poland, to put his troops into winter quarters, of which they stood so much in need, to make use of the polish cavalry, which was absolutely necessary; to support the king he had nominated, and to keep in awe the partisans of augustus, who began already to bestir themselves. charles answered him again--that this would be flying before the czar, that the season would grow milder, and that he must reduce the ukraine, and march on to moscow.[ ] january, .] both armies remained some weeks inactive, on account of the intenseness of the cold, in the month of january, ; but as soon as the men were able to make use of their arms, charles attacked all the small posts that he found in his way; he was obliged to send parties on every side in search of provisions; that is to say, to scour the country twenty leagues round, and rob all the peasants of their necessary subsistence. peter, without hurrying himself, kept a strict eye upon all his motions, and suffered the swedish army to dwindle away by degrees. it is impossible for the reader to follow the swedes in their march through these countries: several of the rivers which they crossed are not to be found in the maps: we must not suppose, that geographers are as well acquainted with these countries, as we are with italy, france, and germany: geography is, of all the arts, that which still stands the most need of improvement, and ambition has hitherto been at more pains to desolate the face of the globe, than to give a description of it. we must content ourselves then with knowing, that charles traversed the whole ukraine in the month of february, burning the villages wherever he came, or meeting with others that had been laid in ashes by the russians. he advancing south-east, came to those sandy deserts, bordered by mountains that separate the nogay tartars from the don cossacks. to the eastward of those mountains are the altars of alexander. charles was now on the other side of the ukraine, in the road that the tartars take to russia; and when he was got there, he was obliged to return back again to procure subsistence: the inhabitants, having retired with all their cattle into their dens and lurking-places, would sometimes defend their subsistence against the soldiers, who came to deprive them of it. such of these poor wretches, who could be found, were put to death, agreeably to what are falsely called, the rules of war. i cannot here forbear transcribing a few lines from norberg.[ ] 'as an instance,' says he, 'of the king's regard to justice, i shall insert a note, which he wrote with his own hand to colonel heilmen. 'colonel, 'i am very well pleased that you have taken those peasants, who carried off a swedish soldier; as soon as they are convicted of the crime, let them be punished with death, according to the exigency of the case. 'charles; and lower down, budis.' such are the sentiments of justice and humanity shewn by a king's confessor; but, had the peasants of the ukraine had it in their power to hang up some of those regimented peasants of east gothland, who thought themselves entitled to come so far to plunder them, their wives, and families, of their subsistence, would not the confessors and chaplains of these ukrainers have had equal reason to applaud their justice? mazeppa had for a considerable time, been in treaty with the zaporavians, who dwell about the two shores of the boristhenes, and of whom part inhabit the islands on that river. it is this division that forms the nation, of whom mention has already been made in the first chapter of this history, and who have neither wives nor families, and subsist entirely by rapine. during the winter they heap up provisions in their islands, which they afterwards go and sell in the summer, in the little town of pultowa; the rest dwell in small hamlets, to the right and left of this river. all together choose a particular hetman, and this hetman is subordinate to him of the ukraine. the person, at that time at the head of the zaporavians, came to meet mazeppa; and these two barbarians had an interview, at which each of them had a horse's tail, and a club borne before him, as ensigns of honour. to shew what this hetman of the zaporavians and his people were, i think it not unworthy of history, to relate the manner in which this treaty was concluded. mazeppa gave a great feast to the hetman of the zaporavians, and his principal officers, who were all served in plate. as soon as these chiefs had made themselves drunk with brandy, they took an oath (without stirring from table) upon the evangelists, to supply charles with men and provisions; after which they carried off all the plate and other table-furniture. mazeppa's steward ran after them, and remonstrated, that such behaviour ill-suited with the doctrine of the gospels, on which they had so lately sworn. some of mazeppa's domestics were for taking the plate away from them by force; but the zaporavians went in a body to complain to mazeppa, of the unparalleled affront offered to such brave fellows, and demanded to have the steward delivered up to them, that they might punish him according to law. this was accordingly complied with, and the zaporavians, according to law, tossed this poor man from one to another like a ball, and afterwards plunged a knife to his heart. such were the new allies that charles xii. was obliged to receive; part of whom he formed into a regiment of two thousand men; the remainder marched in separate bodies against the cossacks and calmucks of the czar's party, that were stationed about that district. the little town of pultowa, with which those zaporavians carry on a trade, was filled with provisions, and might have served charles for a place of arms. it is situated on the river worsklaw, near a chain of mountains, which command it on the north side. to the eastward is a vast desert. the western part is the most fruitful, and the best peopled. the worsklaw empties itself into the boristhenes, about fifteen leagues lower down; from pultowa, one may go northward, through the defiles, which communicate with the road to moscow, a passage used by the tartars. it is very difficult of access, and the precautions taken by the czar had rendered it almost impervious; but nothing appeared impossible to charles, and he depended upon marching to moscow, as soon as he had made himself master of pultowa: with this view he laid siege to that town in the beginning of may. chap. xviii. battle of pultowa. here it was that peter expected him; he had disposed the several divisions of his army at convenient distances for joining each other, and marching all together against the besiegers: he had visited the countries which surround the ukraine; namely the duchy of severia, watered by the desna, already made famous by his victory: the country of bolcho, in which the occa has its source; the deserts and mountains leading to the palus mæotis; and lately he had been in the neighbourhood of azoph, where he caused that harbour to be cleansed, new ships to be built, and the citadel of taganroc to be repaired. thus did he employ the time that passed between the battles of lesnau and pultowa, in preparing for the defence of his dominions. as soon as he heard the swedes had laid siege to the town, he mustered all his forces; the horse, dragoons, infantry, cossacks, and calmucks, advanced from different quarters. his army was well provided with necessaries of every kind; large cannon, field pieces, ammunition of all sorts, provisions, and even medicines for the sick: this was another degree of superiority which he had acquired over his rival. on the th day of june, , he appeared before pultowa, with an army of about sixty thousand effective men; the river worsklaw was between him and charles. the besiegers were encamped on the north-west side of that river, the russians on the south-east. peter ascends the river above the town, fixes his barges, marches over with his army, and draws a long line of intrenchments, (july .) which were begun and completed in one night, in the face of the enemy. charles might then judge, whether the person, whom he had so much despised, and whom he thought of dethroning at moscow, understood the art of war. this disposition being made, peter posted his cavalry between two woods, and covered it with several redoubts, lined with artillery. having thus taken all the necessary measures, (july .) he went to reconnoitre the enemy's camp, in order to form the attack. this battle was to decide the fate of russia, poland, and sweden, and of two monarchs, on whom the eyes of all europe were fixed. the greatest part of those nations, who were attentive to these important concerns, were equally ignorant of the place where these two princes were, and of their situation: but knowing that charles xii. had set out from saxony, at the head of a victorious army, and that he was driving his enemy every where before him, they no longer doubted that he would at length entirely crush him; and that, as he had already given laws to denmark, poland, and germany, he would now dictate conditions of peace in the kremlin of moscow, and make a new czar, after having already made a new king of poland. i have seen letters from several public ministers to their respective courts, confirming this general opinion. the risk was far from being equal between these two great rivals. if charles lost a life, which he had so often and wantonly exposed, there would after all have been but one hero less in the world. the provinces of the ukraine, the frontiers of lithuania, and of russia, would then rest from their calamities, and a stop would be put to the general devastation which had so long been their scourge. poland would, together with her tranquillity, recover her lawful prince, who had been lately reconciled to the czar, his benefactor; and sweden, though exhausted of men and money, might find motives of consolation under her heavy losses. but, if the czar perished, those immense labours, which had been of such utility to mankind, would be buried with him, and the most extensive empire in the world would again relapse into the chaos from whence it had been so lately taken. there had already been some skirmishes between the detached parties of the swedes and russians, under the walls of the town. in one of these rencounters, (june .) charles had been wounded by a musket-ball, which had shattered the bones of his foot: he underwent several painful operations, which he bore with his usual fortitude, and had been confined to his bed for several days. in this condition he was informed, that peter intended to give him battle; his notions of honour would not suffer him to wait to be attacked in his intrenchments. accordingly he gave orders for quitting them, and was carried himself in a litter. peter the great acknowledges, that the swedes attacked the redoubts, lined with artillery, that covered his cavalry, with such obstinate valour, that, notwithstanding the strongest resistance, supported by a continual fire, the enemy made themselves masters of two redoubts. some writers say, that when the swedish infantry found themselves in possession of the two redoubts, they thought the day their own, and began to cry out--victory. the chaplain, norberg, who was at some great distance from the field of battle, amongst the baggage (which was indeed his proper place) pretends, that this was a calumny; but, whether the swedes cried victory or not, it is certain they were not victorious. the fire from the other redoubts was kept up without ceasing, and the resistance made by the russians, in every part, was as firm as the attack of their enemies was vigorous. they did not make one irregular movement; the czar drew up his army without the intrenchments in excellent order, and with surprising dispatch. the battle now became general. peter acted as major-general; baur commanded the right wing, menzikoff the left, and sheremeto the centre. the action lasted about two hours: charles, with a pistol in his hand, went from rank to rank, carried in a litter, on the shoulders of his drabans; one of which was killed by a cannon-ball, and at the same time the litter was shattered in pieces. he then ordered his men to carry him upon their pikes; for it would have been difficult, in so smart an action, let norberg say as he pleases, to find a fresh litter ready made. peter received several shots through his clothes and his hat; both princes were continually in the midst of the fire, during the whole action. at length, after two hours desperate engagement, the swedes were taken on all sides, and fell into confusion; so that charles was obliged to fly before him, whom he had hitherto held in so much contempt. this very hero, who could not mount his saddle during the battle, now fled for his life on horseback; necessity lent him strength in his retreat: he suffered the most excruciating pain, which was increased by the mortifying reflection of being vanquished without resource. the russians reckoned nine thousand two hundred and twenty-four swedes left dead on the field of battle, and between two and three thousand made prisoners in the action, the chief of which was cavalry. charles xii. fled with the greatest precipitation, attended by the remains of his brave army, a few field-pieces, and a very small quantity of provisions and ammunition. he directed his march southward, towards the boristhenes, between the two rivers workslaw and psol, or sol, in the country of the zaporavians. beyond the boristhenes, are vast deserts, which lead to the frontiers of turkey. norberg affirms, that the victors durst not pursue charles; and yet he acknowledges, that prince menzikoff appeared on the neighbouring heights, (july .) with ten thousand horse, and a considerable train of artillery, while the king was passing the boristhenes. fourteen thousand swedes surrendered themselves prisoners of war to these ten thousand russians; and levenhaupt, who commanded them, signed the fatal capitulation, by which he gave up those zaporavians who had engaged in the service of his master, and were then in the fugitive army. the chief persons taken prisoners in the battle, and by the capitulation, were count piper, the first minister, with two secretaries of state, and two of the cabinet; field-marshal renschild, the generals levenhaupt, slipenbak, rozen, stakelber, creutz, and hamilton, with three general aides-de-camp, the auditor-general of the army, fifty-nine staff-officers, five colonels, among whom was the prince of wirtemberg; sixteen thousand nine hundred and forty-two private men and non-commissioned officers: in short, reckoning the king's own domestics, and others, the conqueror had no less than eighteen thousand seven hundred and forty-six prisoners in his power: to whom, if we add nine thousand two hundred and twenty-four slain in battle, and nearly two thousand that passed the boristhenes with charles, it appears, plainly, that he had, on that memorable day, no less than twenty-seven thousand effective men under his command.[ ] charles had begun his march from saxony with forty-five thousand men, levenhaupt had brought upwards of sixteen thousand out of livonia, and yet scarce a handful of men was left of all this powerful army; of a numerous train of artillery, part lost in his marches, and part buried in the morasses; he had now remaining only eighteen brass cannon, two howitzers, and twelve mortars; and, with inconsiderable force, he had undertaken the siege of pultowa, and had attacked an army provided with a formidable artillery. therefore he is, with justice, accused of having shewn more courage than prudence, after his leaving germany. on the side of the russians, there were no more than fifty-two officers and one thousand two hundred and ninety-three private men killed; an undeniable proof, that the disposition of the russian troops was better than those of charles, and that their fire was infinitely superior to that of the swedes. we find, in the memoirs of a foreign minister to the court of russia, that peter, being informed of charles's design to take refuge in turkey, wrote a friendly letter to him, intreating him not to take so desperate a resolution, but rather to trust himself in his hands, than in those of the natural enemy of all christian princes. he gave him, at the same time, his word of honour, not to detain him prisoner, but to terminate all their differences by a reasonable peace. this letter was sent by an express as far as the river bug, which separates the deserts of the ukraine from the grand seignior's dominions. as the messenger did not reach that place till charles had entered turkey, he brought back the letter to his master. the same minister adds further, that he had this account from the very person who was charged with the letter.[ ] this anecdote is not altogether improbable; but i do not meet with it either in peter's journals, or in any of the papers entrusted to my care. what is of greater importance, in relation to this battle, was its being the only one, of the many that have stained the earth with blood, that, instead of producing only destruction, has proved beneficial to mankind, by enabling the czar to civilize so considerable a part of the world. there have been fought more than two hundred pitched battles in europe, since the commencement of this century to the present year. the most signal, and the most bloody victories, have produced no other consequences than the reduction of a few provinces ceded afterwards by treaties, and retaken again by other battles. armies of a hundred thousand men have frequently engaged each other in the field; but the greatest efforts have been attended with only slight and momentary successes; the most trivial causes have been productive of the greatest effects. there is no instance, in modern history, of any war that has compensated, by even a better good, for the many evils it has occasioned: but, from the battle of pultowa, the greatest empire under the sun has derived its present happiness and prosperity. chap. xix. consequences of the battle of pultowa.--charles xii. takes refuge among the turks.--augustus, whom he had dethroned, recovers his dominions.--conquests of peter the great. [sidenote: .] the chief prisoners of rank were now presented to the conqueror, who ordered their swords to be returned, and invited them to dinner. it is a well known fact, that, on drinking to the officers, he said, 'to the health of my masters in the art of war.' however, most of his masters, particularly the subaltern officers, and all the private men, were soon afterwards sent into siberia. there was no cartel established here for exchange of prisoners between the russians and swedes; the czar, indeed, had proposed one before the siege of pultowa, but charles rejected the offer, and his troops were in every thing the victims of his inflexible pride. it was this unseasonable obstinacy that occasioned all the misfortunes of this prince in turkey, and a series of adventures, more becoming a hero of romance than a wise or prudent king; for, as soon as he arrived at bender, he was advised to write to the grand-vizier, as is the custom among the turks; but this he thought would be demeaning himself too far. the like obstinacy embroiled him with all the ministers of the porte, one after another, in short, he knew not how to accommodate himself either to times or circumstances.[ ] the first news of the battle of pultowa produced a general revolution in minds and affairs in poland, saxony, sweden, and silesia. charles, while all powerful in those parts, had obliged the emperor joseph to take a hundred and five churches from the catholics in favour of the silesians of the confession of augsburg. the catholics then no sooner received news of the defeat of charles, than they repossessed themselves of all the lutheran temples. the saxons now thought of nothing but being revenged for the extortions of a conqueror, who had robbed them, according to their own account, of twenty-three millions of crowns. the king of poland, their elector, immediately protested against the abdication that had been extorted from him, and being now reconciled to the czar (aug. .), he left no stone unturned to reascend the polish throne. sweden, overwhelmed with consternation, thought her king for a long time dead, and in this uncertainty the senate knew not what to resolve. peter in the mean time determined to make the best use of his victory, and therefore dispatched marshal sheremeto with an army into livonia, on the frontiers of which province that general had so often distinguished himself. prince menzikoff was sent in haste with a numerous body of cavalry to second the few troops left in poland, to encourage the nobles who were in the interest of augustus to drive out his competitor, who was now considered in no better light than a rebel, and to disperse a body of swedes and troops that were still left in that kingdom under the command of general crassau. the czar soon after sets out in person, marches through the province of kiow, and the palatinates of chelm and upper volhinia, and at length arrives at lublin, where he concerts measures with the general of lithuania. he then reviews the crown troops, who all take the oath of allegiance to king augustus, from thence he proceeds to warsaw, and at thera enjoyed the most glorious of all triumphs (sept. .), that of receiving the thanks of a king, whom he had reinstated in his dominions. there it was that he concluded a treaty against sweden, with the kings of denmark, poland, and prussia (oct. .): in which he was resolved to recover from charles all the conquests of gustavus adolphus. peter revived the ancient pretensions of the czars to livonia, ingria, carelia, and part of finland; denmark laid claim to scania, and the king of prussia to pomerania. thus had charles xii. by his unsuccessful valour, shook the noble edifice that had been erected by the prosperous bravery of his ancestor gustavus adolphus. the polish nobility came in on all sides to renew their oaths to their king, or to ask pardon for having deserted him; and almost the whole kingdom acknowledged peter for its protector. to the victorious arms of the czar, to these new treaties, and to this sudden revolution, stanislaus had nothing to oppose but a voluntary resignation: he published a writing called universale, in which he declares himself ready to resign the crown, if the republic required it. peter, having concerted all the necessary measures with the king of poland, and ratified the treaty with denmark, set out directly to finish his negotiation with the king of prussia. it was not then usual for sovereign princes to perform the function of their own ambassadors. peter was the first who introduced this custom, which has been followed by very few. the elector of brandenburg, the first king of prussia, had a conference with the czar at marienverder, a small town situated in the western part of pomerania, and built by the old teutonic knights, and included in the limits of prussia, lately erected into a kingdom. this country indeed was poor, and of a small extent; but its new king, whenever he travelled, displayed the utmost magnificence; with great splendour he had received czar peter at his first passing through his dominions, when that prince quitted his empire to go in search of instruction among strangers. but he received the conqueror of charles xii. in a still more pompous manner. (oct. .) peter for this time concluded only a defensive treaty with him, which afterwards, however, completed the ruin of sweden. not an instant of time was lost. peter, having proceeded with the greatest dispatch in his negotiations, which elsewhere are wont to take up so much time, goes and joins his army, then before riga, the capital of livonia; he began by bombarding the place (nov. .), and fired off the three first bombs himself; then changed the siege into a blockade; and, when well assured that riga could not escape him, he repaired to his city of petersburg, to inspect and forward the works carrying on there, the new buildings, and finishing of his fleet; and having laid the keel of a ship of fifty-four guns, (dec. .) with his own hands, he returned to moscow. here he amused himself with assisting in the preparations for the triumphal entry, which he exhibited in the capital. he directed every thing relating to that festival, and was himself the principal contriver and architect. he opened the year with this solemnity, so necessary to his subjects, whom it inspired with notions of grandeur, and was highly pleasing to every one who had been fearful of seeing those enter their walls as conquerors, over whom they now triumphed. seven magnificent arches were erected, under which passed in triumph, the artillery, standards, and colours, taken from the enemy, with their officers, generals, and ministers, who had been taken prisoners, all on foot, amidst the ringing of bells, the sound of trumpets, the discharge of a hundred pieces of cannon, and the acclamations of an innumerable concourse of people, whose voices rent the air as soon as the cannon ceased firing. the procession was closed by the victorious army, with the generals at its head; and peter, who marched in his rank of major-general. at each triumphal arch stood the deputies of the several orders of the state; and at the last was a chosen band of young gentlemen, the sons of boyards, clad in roman habits, who presented a crown of laurels to their victorious monarch. this public festival was followed by another ceremony, which proved no less satisfactory than the former. in the year happened an accident the more disagreeable to peter, as his arms were at that time unsuccessful. mattheof, his ambassador to the court of london, having had his audience of leave of queen anne, was arrested for debt, at the suit of some english merchants, and carried before a justice of peace to give security for the monies he owed there. the merchants insisted that the laws of commerce ought to prevail before the privileges of foreign ministers; the czar's ambassador, and with him all the public ministers, protested against this proceeding, alleging, that their persons ought to be always inviolable. the czar wrote to queen anne, demanding satisfaction for the insult offered him in the person of his ambassador. but the queen had it not in her power to gratify him; because, by the laws of england, tradesmen were allowed to prosecute their debtors, and there was no law that excepted public ministers from such prosecution.[ ] the murder of patkul, the czar's ambassador, who had been executed the year before by the order of charles xii. had encouraged the english to shew so little regard to a character which had been so cruelly profaned. the other public ministers who were then at the court of london, were obliged to be bound for the czar's ambassador; and at length all the queen could do in his favour, was to prevail on her parliament to pass an act, by which no one for the future could arrest an ambassador for debt; but after the battle of pultowa, the english court thought proper to give satisfaction to the czar. the queen made by a formal embassy an excuse for what had passed. mr. whitworth,[ ] the person charged with this commission, began his harangue with the following words.--(feb. .) 'most high and mighty emperor.' he told the czar that the person who had presumed to arrest his ambassador, had been imprisoned and rendered infamous. there was no truth in all this, but it was sufficient that he said so, and the title of emperor, which the queen had not given peter before the battle of pultowa, shewed the consideration he had now acquired in europe. this title had been already granted him in holland, not only by those who had been his fellow-workmen in the dock-yards at saardam, and seemed to interest themselves most in his glory, but likewise by the principal persons in the state, who unanimously styled him emperor, and made public rejoicings for his victory, even in the presence of the swedish minister. the universal reputation which he had acquired by his victory of pultowa, was still further increased by his not suffering a moment to pass without making some advantages of it. in the first place, he laid siege to elbing, a hans town of regal prussia in poland, where the swedes had still a garrison. the russians scaled the walls, entered the town, and the garrison surrendered prisoners of war. (mar. .) this was one of the largest magazines belonging to charles xii. the conquerors found therein one hundred and eighty-three brass cannon, and one hundred and fifty-seven mortars. immediately after the reduction of elbing, peter re-marched from moscow to petersburg (april .); as soon as he arrived at this latter place, he took shipping under his new fortress of cronslot, coasted along the shore of carelia, and notwithstanding a violent storm, brought his fleet safely before wiburg, the capital of carelia in finland; while his land-forces advanced over the frozen morasses, and in a short time the capital of livonia beheld itself closely blockaded (june .): and after a breach was made in the walls, wiburg surrendered, and the garrison, consisting of four thousand men, capitulated, but did not receive the honours of war, being made prisoners notwithstanding the capitulation. peter charged the enemy with several infractions of this kind, and promised to set these troops at liberty, as soon as he should receive satisfaction from the swedes, for his complaints. on this occasion the king of sweden was to be consulted, who continued as inflexible as ever; and those soldiers, whom, by a little concession, he might have delivered from their confinement, remained in captivity. thus did king william iii. in , arrest marshal boufflers, notwithstanding the capitulation of namur. there have been several instances of such violations of treaties, but it is to be wished there never had been any. after the taking of this capital, the blockade of riga was soon changed into a regular siege, and pushed with vigour. they were obliged to break the ice on the river dwina, which waters the walls of the city. an epidemical disorder, which had raged some time in those parts, now got amongst the besiegers, and carried off nine thousand; nevertheless, the siege was not in the least slackened; it lasted a considerable time, but at length the garrison capitulated (july .): and were allowed the honours of war; but it was stipulated by the capitulation, that all the livonian officers and soldiers should enter into the russian service, as natives of a country that had been dismembered from that empire, and usurped by the ancestors of charles xii. but the livonians were restored to the privileges of which his father had stripped them, and all the officers entered into the czar's service: this was the most noble satisfaction that peter could take for the murder of his ambassador, patkul, a livonian, who had been put to death, for defending those privileges. the garrison consisted of near five thousand men. a short time afterwards the citadel of pennamund was taken, and the besiegers found in the town and fort above eight hundred pieces of artillery of different kinds. nothing was now wanting, to make peter entirely master of the province of carelia, but the possession of the strong town of kexholm, built on an island in the lake of ladoga, and deemed impregnable; it was bombarded soon after, and surrendered in a short time. (sep. .) the island of oesel in the sea, bordering upon the north of livonia, was subdued with the same rapidity. (sep. .) on the side of esthonia, a province of livonia, towards the north, and on the gulf of finland, are the towns of pernau and revel: by the reduction of these peter completed the conquest of all livonia. pernau surrendered after a siege of a few days (aug. .), and revel capitulated (sep. .) without waiting to have a single cannon fired against it; but the besieged found means to escape out of the hands of the conquerors, at the very time that they were surrendering themselves prisoners of war: for some swedish ships, having anchored in the road, under favour of the night, the garrison and most of the citizens embarked on board, and when the besiegers entered the town, they were surprised to find it deserted. when charles xii. gained the victory of narva little did he expect that his troops would one day be driven to use such artifices. in poland, stanislaus finding his party entirely ruined, had taken refuge in pomerania, which still belonged to charles xii. augustus resumed the government, and it was difficult to decide who had acquired most glory, charles in dethroning him, or peter in restoring him to his crown. the subjects of the king of sweden were still more unfortunate than that monarch himself. the contagious distemper, which had made such havock over livonia, passed from thence into sweden, where, in the city of stockholm, it carried off thirty thousand persons: it likewise desolated the provinces, already thinned of their inhabitants; for during the space of ten years successively, most of the able-bodied men had quitted their country to follow their master, and perished in foreign climes. charles's ill fortune pursued him also in pomerania: his army had retired thither from poland, to the number of eleven thousand; the czar, the kings of denmark and prussia, the elector of hanover, and the duke of holstein, joined together to render this army useless, and to compel general crassau, who commanded it, to submit to neutrality. the regency of stockholm, hearing no news of their king, and distracted by the mortality that raged in that city, were glad to sign this neutrality, which seemed to deliver one of its provinces at least from the horrors of war. the emperor of germany favoured this extraordinary convention, by which it was stipulated, that the swedish army then in pomerania should not march from thence to assist their monarch in any other part of the world; nay, it was furthermore resolved in the german empire, to raise an army to enforce the execution of this unparalleled convention. the reason of this was, that the emperor of germany, who was then at war with france, was in hopes to engage the swedish army to enter into his service. this whole negotiation was carried on while peter was subduing livonia, esthonia, and carelia. charles xii. who was all this time at bender, putting every spring in motion to engage the divan to declare war against the czar, received this news as one of the severest blows his untoward fortune had dealt him: he could not brook, that his senate at stockholm should pretend to tie up the hands of his army, and it was on this occasion that he wrote them word, he would send one of his boots to govern them. the danes, in the mean time, were making preparations to invade sweden; so that every nation in europe was now engaged in war, spain, portugal, italy, france, germany, holland, and england, were contending for the dominions left by charles ii. of spain; and the whole north was up in arms against charles xii. there wanted only a quarrel with the ottoman empire, for every village in europe to be exposed to the ravages of war. this quarrel happened soon afterwards, when peter had attained to the summit of his glory, and precisely for that reason. chap. xx. campaign of pruth. sultan achmet iii. declared war against peter i. not from any regard to the king of sweden, but, as may readily be supposed, merely from a view to his own interest. the khan of the crim tartars could not without dread, behold a neighbour so powerful as peter i. the porte had, for some time, taken umbrage at the number of ships which this prince had on the palus mæotis, and in the black sea, at his fortifying the city of azoph, and at the flourishing state of the harbour of taganroc, already become famous; and, lastly, at his great series of successes, and at the ambition which success never fails to augment. it is neither true, nor even probable, that the porte should have begun the war against the czar, on the palus mæotis, for no other reason than because a swedish ship had taken a bark on the baltic, on board of which was found a letter from a minister, whose name has never been mentioned. norberg tells us, that this letter contained a plan for the conquest of the turkish empire; that it was carried to charles xii. who was then in turkey, and was by him sent to the divan; and that immediately after the receipt of this letter, war was declared. but this story carries the mark of fiction with it. it was the remonstrances of the khan of tartary, who was more uneasy about the neighbourhood of azoph, than the turkish divan, that induced this latter to give orders for taking the field.[ ] it was in the month of august, and before the czar had completed the reduction of livonia, when achmet iii. resolved to declare war against him. the turks, at that time, could hardly have had the news of the taking of riga; and, therefore, the proposal of restoring to the king of sweden the value in money, of the effects he had lost at the battle of pultowa, would have been the most absurd thing imaginable, if not exceeded by that of demolishing petersburg. the behaviour of charles xii. at bender, was sufficiently romantic; but the conduct of the turkish divan would have been much more so, if we suppose it to have made any demands of this kind. nov. .] the khan of tartary, who was the principal instigator of this war, paid charles a visit in his retreat at bender. they were connected by the same interests, inasmuch as europe makes part of the frontiers of little tartary. charles and the khan were the two greatest sufferers by the successes of the czar; but the khan did not command the forces of the grand seignior. he was like one of the feudatory princes of germany, who served in the armies of the empire with their own troops, and were subject to the authority of the emperor's generals for the time being. nov. , .] the first step taken by the divan, was to arrest tolstoy, the czar's ambassador at the porte, in the streets of constantinople, together with thirty of his domestics, who, with their master, were all confined in the prison of the seven towers. this barbarous custom, at which even savages would blush, is owing to the turks having always a number of foreign ministers residing amongst them from other courts, whereas they never send any in return. they look upon the ambassadors of christian princes in no other light than as merchants or consuls; and, having naturally as great a contempt for christians as they have for jews, they seldom condescend to observe the laws of nations, in respect to them, unless forced to it; at least, they have hitherto persisted in this barbarous pride. the famous vizier, achmet couprougli, the same who took the island of candia, under mahomet iv., insulted the son of the french ambassador, and even carried his brutality so far as to strike him, and afterwards to confine him in prison, without lewis xiv., proud and lofty as he was, daring to resent it, otherwise than by sending another minister to the porte. the christian princes, who are so remarkably delicate on the point of honour amongst themselves, and have even made it a part of the law of nations, seem to be utterly insensible on this head in regard to the turks. never did a crowned head suffer greater affronts in the persons of his ministers, than czar peter. in the space of a few years, his ambassador at the court of london was thrown into jail for debt, his plenipotentiary at the courts of poland and saxony was broke upon the wheel, by order of the king of sweden; and now his minister at the ottoman porte was seized and thrown into a dungeon at constantinople, like a common felon.[ ] we have already observed, in the first part of this history, that he received satisfaction from queen anne, of england, for the insult offered to his ambassador at london. the horrible affront he suffered, in the person of patkul, was washed away in the blood of the swedes slain at the battle of pultowa; but fortune permitted the violation of the law of nations by the turks to pass unpunished. jan. .] the czar now found himself obliged to quit the theatre of war in the west, and march towards the frontiers of turkey. he began by causing ten regiments, which he had in poland, to advance towards moldavia.[ ] he then ordered marshal sheremeto to set out from livonia, with his body of forces; and, leaving prince menzikoff at the head of affairs at petersburg, he returned to moscow, to give orders for opening the ensuing campaign. jan. .] he now establishes a senate of regency: the regiment of guards begin their march, he issues orders for all the young nobility to follow him to the field, to learn the art of war, and places some of them in the station of cadets, and others in that of subaltern officers. admiral apraxin goes to azoph to take the command by sea and land. these several measures being taken, the czar publishes an ordonnance in moscow for acknowledging a new empress. this was the person who had been taken prisoner in marienburg, in the year . peter had, in , repudiated his wife eudoxia lopoukin (or lapouchin) by whom he had two children. the laws of his church allow of no divorces; but, had they not, peter would have enacted a new law to permit them. the fair captive of marienburg, who had taken the name of catherine, had a soul superior to her sex and her misfortunes. she rendered herself so agreeable to the czar, that this prince would have her always near his person. she accompanied him in all his excursions, and most fatiguing campaigns: sharing in his toils, and softening his uneasiness by her natural gaiety, and the great attention she shewed to oblige him on all occasions, and the indifference she expressed for the luxury, dress, and other indulgences, of which the generality of her sex are, in other countries, wont to make real necessities. she frequently softened the passionate temper of the czar, and, by making him more clement and merciful, rendered him more truly great. in a word, she became so necessary to him, that he married her privately, in . he had already two daughters by her, and the following year she bore him a third, who was afterwards married to the duke of holstein.[ ] march , .] the czar made this private marriage known the very day he set out with her to try the fortune of his arms against the turks. the several dispositions he had made seemed to promise a successful issue. the hetman of the cossacks was to keep the tartars in awe, who had already began to commit ravages in the ukraine. the main body of the russian army was advancing towards niester, and another body of troops, under prince galitzin, were in full march through poland. every thing went on favourably at the beginning: for galitzin having met with a numerous body of tartars near kiow, who had been joined by some cossacks and some poles of king stanislaus' party, as also a few swedes, he defeated them entirely, and killed near five thousand men. these tartars had, in their march through the open country, made about ten thousand prisoners. it has been the custom of the tartars, time immemorial, to carry with them a much greater number of cords than scimitars, in order to bind the unhappy wretches they surprise. the captives were all set free, and those who had made them prisoners were put to the sword. the whole russian army, if it had been assembled together, would have amounted to sixty thousand men. it was to have been farther augmented by the troops belonging to the king of poland. this prince, who owed every thing to the czar, came to pay him a visit at jaroslaw, on the river sana, the d of june, , and promised him powerful succours. war was now declared against the turks, in the name of these two monarchs: but the polish diet, not willing to break with the ottoman porte, refused to ratify the engagement their king had entered into. it was the fate of the czar to have, in the king of poland, an ally who could never be of any service to him. he entertained the same hopes of assistance from the princes of moldavia and walachia, and was, in the like manner, disappointed. these two provinces ought to have taken this opportunity to shake off the turkish yoke. these countries were those of the ancient daci, who, together with the gepidi, with whom they were intermixed, did, for a long time, disturb the roman empire. they were at length subdued by the emperor trajan, and constantine the first made them embrace the christian religion. dacia was one of the provinces of the eastern empire; but shortly after these very people contributed to the ruin of that of the west, by serving under the odoacers and theodorics. they afterwards continued to be subject to the greek empire; and when the turks made themselves masters of constantinople, were governed and oppressed by particular princes; at length they were totally subjected by the padisha, or turkish emperor, who now granted them an investiture. the hospodar, or waiwod, chosen by the ottoman porte to govern these provinces, is always a christian of the greek church. the turks, by this choice, give a proof of their toleration, while our ignorant declaimers are accusing them of persecution. the prince, nominated by the porte, is tributary to, or rather farms these countries of the grand seignior; this dignity being always conferred on the best bidder, or him who makes the greatest presents to the vizier, in like manner as the greek patriarch, at constantinople. sometimes this government is bestowed on a dragoman, that is to say, the interpreter to the divan. these provinces are seldom under the government of the same waiwod, the porte choosing to divide them, in order to be more sure of retaining them in subjection. demetrius cantemir was at this time waiwod of moldavia. this prince was said to be descended from tamerlane, because tamerlane's true name was timur, and timur was a tartarian khan; and so, from the name tamurkan, say they, came the family of cantemir. bassaraba brancovan had been invested with the principality of walachia, but had not found any genealogist to deduce his pedigree from the tartarian conqueror. cantemir thought the time now come to shake off the turkish yoke, and render himself independent by means of the czar's protection. in this view he acted in the very same manner with peter as mazeppa had done with charles xii. he even engaged bassaraba for the present to join him in the conspiracy, of which he hoped to reap all the benefit himself: his plan being to make himself master of both provinces. the bishop of jerusalem, who was at that time at walachia, was the soul of this conspiracy. cantemir promised the czar to furnish him with men and provisions, as mazeppa did the king of sweden, and kept his word no better than he had done. general sheremeto advanced towards jassi, the capital of moldavia, to inspect and occasionally assist the execution of these great projects. cantemir came thither to meet him, and was received with all the honours due to a prince: but he acted as a prince in no one circumstance, but that of publishing a manifesto against the turkish empire. the hospodar of walachia, who soon discovered the ambitious views of his colleague, quitted his party, and returned to his duty. the bishop of jerusalem dreading, with reason, the punishment due to his perfidy, fled and concealed himself: the people of walachia and moldavia continued faithful to the ottoman porte, and those, who were to have furnished provisions for the russian army, carried them to the turks. the vizier, baltagi mahomet had already crossed the danube, at the head of one hundred thousand men, and was advancing towards jassi, along the banks of the river pruth (formerly the hierasus), which falls into the danube, and which is nearly the boundary of moldavia and bessarabia. he then dispatched count poniatowsky,[ ] a polish gentleman, attached to the fortunes of the king of sweden, to desire that prince to make him a visit, and see his army. charles, whose pride always got the better of his interest, would not consent to this proposal: he insisted that the grand vizier should make him the first visit, in his asylum near bender. when poniatowsky returned to the ottoman camp, and endeavoured to excuse this refusal of his master, the vizier, turning to the khan of the tartars, said, 'this is the very behaviour i expected from this proud pagan.' this mutual pride, which never fails of alienating the minds of those in power from each other, did no service to the king of sweden's affairs; and indeed that prince might have easily perceived, from the beginning, that the turks were not acting for his interest, but for their own. while the turkish army was passing the danube, the czar advanced by the frontiers of poland, and passed the boristhenes, in order to relieve marshal sheremeto, who was then on the banks of the pruth, to the southward of jassi, and in danger of being daily surrounded by an army of ten thousand turks, and an army of tartars. peter, before he passed the boristhenes, was in doubt whether he should expose his beloved catherine to these dangers, which seemed to increase every day; but catherine, on her side, looked upon this solicitude of the czar, for her ease and safety, as an affront offered to her love and courage; and pressed her consort so strongly on this head, that he found himself under a necessity to consent that she should pass the river with him. the army beheld her with eyes of joy and admiration, marching on horseback at the head of the troops, for she rarely made use of a carriage. after passing the boristhenes, they had a tract of desert country to pass through, and then to cross the bog, and afterwards the river tiras, now called the niester, and then another desert to traverse, before they came to the banks of the pruth. catherine, during this fatiguing march, animated the whole army by her cheerfulness and affability. she sent refreshments to such of the officers who were sick, and extended her care even to the meanest soldier. july , .] at length the czar brought his army in sight of jassi. here he was to establish his magazine. bassaraba, the hospodar of walachia, who had again embraced the interest of the ottoman porte, but still, in appearance, continued a friend to the czar, proposed to that prince to make peace with the turks, although he had received no commission from the grand vizier for that purpose. his deceit, however, was soon discovered; and the czar contented himself with demanding only provisions for his army, which bassaraba neither could nor would furnish. it was very difficult to procure any supplies from poland; and these, which prince cantemir had promised, and which he vainly hoped to procure from walachia, could not be brought from thence. these disappointments rendered the situation of the russian army very disagreeable; and, as an addition to their afflictions, they were infested with an immense swarm of grasshoppers, that covered the face of the whole country, and devoured, or spoiled, every thing where they alighted. they were likewise frequently in want of water during their march through sandy deserts, and beneath a scorching sun: what little they could procure, they were obliged to have brought in vessels to the camp, from a considerable distance. during this dangerous and fatiguing march, the czar, by a singular fatality, found himself in the neighbourhood of his rival and competitor, charles; bender not being above twenty-five leagues from the place where the russian army was encamped, near jassi. some parties of cossacks made excursions even to the place of that unfortunate monarch's retreat; but the crim tartars, who hovered round that part of the country, sufficiently secured him from any attempt that might be made to seize his person; and charles waited in his camp with impatience, and did not fear the issue of the war. peter, as soon as he had established some magazines, marched in haste with his army to the right of the river pruth. his essential object was to prevent the turks, who were posted to the left, and towards the head of the river, from crossing it, and marching towards him. this effected, he would then be master of moldavia and walachia: with this view, he dispatched general janus, with the vanguard of the army, to oppose the passage of the turks; but the general did not arrive till they had already began to cross the river upon their bridges; upon which he was obliged to retreat, and his infantry was closely pursued by the turks, till the czar came up in person to his assistance. the grand vizier now marched directly along the river towards the czar. the two armies were very unequal in point of numbers: that of the turks, which had been reinforced by the tartarian troops, consisted of nearly two hundred and fifty thousand men, while that of the russians hardly amounted to thirty-five thousand. there was indeed a considerable body of troops, headed by general renne, on their march from the other side of the moldavian mountains; but the turks had cut off all communication with those parts. the czar's army now began to be in want of provisions, nor could, without the greatest difficulty, procure water, though encamped at a very small distance from the river; being exposed to a furious discharge from the batteries, which the grand vizier had caused to be erected on the left side of the river, under the care of a body of troops, that kept up a constant fire against the russians. by this relation, which is strictly circumstantial and true, it appears that baltagi mahomet, the turkish vizier, far from being the pusillanimous, or weak commander, which the swedes have represented him, gave proofs, on this occasion, that he perfectly well understood his business. the passing the pruth in the sight of the enemy, obliging him to retreat, and harassing him in that retreat; the cutting off all communication between the czar's army, and a body of cavalry that was marching to reinforce it; the hemming in this army, without the least probability of a retreat; and the cutting off all supplies of water and provisions, by keeping it constantly under the check of the batteries on the opposite side of the river, were manoeuvres that in no ways bespoke the unexperienced or indolent general. peter now saw himself in a situation even worse than that to which he had reduced his rival, charles xii. at pultowa; being, like him, surrounded by a superior army, and in greater want of provisions; and, like him, having confided in the promises of a prince, too powerful to be bound by those promises, he resolved upon a retreat; and endeavoured to return towards jassi, in order to choose a more advantageous situation for his camp. july , .] he accordingly decamped under favour of the night; but his army had scarcely begun its march, when, at break of day, the turks fell upon his rear: but the preobrazinski regiment turning about, and standing firm, did, for a considerable time, check the fury of their onset. the russians then formed themselves, and made a line of intrenchments with their waggons and baggage. the same day (july .) the turks returned again to the attack, with the whole body of their army; and, as a proof that the russians knew how to defend themselves, let what will be alleged to the contrary, they also made head against this very superior force for a considerable time, killed a great number of their enemies, who in vain endeavoured to break in upon them. there were in the ottoman army two officers belonging to the king of sweden, namely, count poniatowsky and the count of sparre, who had the command of a body of cossacks in that prince's interest. my papers inform me, that these two generals advised the grand vizier to avoid coming to action with the russians, and content himself with depriving them of supplies of water and provisions, which would oblige them either to surrender prisoners of war, or to perish with famine. other memoirs pretend, on the contrary, that these officers would have persuaded mahomet to fall upon this feeble and half-starved army, in a weak and distressed condition, and put all to the sword. the first of these seems to be the most prudent and circumspect; but the second is more agreeable to the character of generals who had been trained up under charles xii. the real fact is, that the grand vizier fell upon the rear of the russian army, at the dawn of day, which was thrown into confusion, and there remained only a line of four hundred men to confront the turks. this small body formed itself with amazing quickness, under the orders of a german general, named alard, who, to his immortal honour, made such rapid and excellent dispositions on this occasion, that the russians withstood, for upwards of three hours, the repeated attack of the whole ottoman army, without losing a foot of ground. the czar now found himself amply repaid for the immense pains he had taken to inure his troops to strict discipline. at the battle of narva, sixty thousand men were defeated by only eight thousand, because the former were undisciplined; and here we behold a rear-guard, consisting of only eight thousand russians, sustaining the efforts of one hundred and fifty thousand turks, killing seven thousand of them, and obliging the rest to return back. after this sharp engagement, both armies intrenched themselves for that night: but the russians still continued enclosed, and deprived of all provisions, even water; for notwithstanding they were so near the river pruth, yet they did not dare approach its banks; for as soon as any parties were sent out to find water, a body of turks, posted on the opposite shore, drove them back by a furious discharge from their cannon, loaded with chain shot: and the body of the turkish army, which had attacked that of the czar the day before, continued to play upon them from another quarter, with the whole force of their artillery. the russian army appeared now to be lost beyond resource, by its position, by the inequality of numbers, and by the want of provisions. the skirmishes on both sides were frequent and bloody: the russian cavalry being almost all dismounted, could no longer be of any service, unless by fighting on foot: in a word, the situation of affairs was desperate. it was out of their power to retreat, they had nothing left but to gain a complete victory; to perish to the last man, or to be made slaves by the infidels. all the accounts and memoirs of those times unanimously agree, that the czar, divided within himself, whether or not he should expose his wife, his army, his empire, and the fruits of all his labours, to almost inevitable destruction; retired to his tent, oppressed with grief, and seized with violent convulsions, to which he was naturally subject, and which the present desperate situation of his affairs brought upon him with redoubled violence. in this condition he remained alone in his tent, having given positive orders, that no one should be admitted to be a witness to the distraction of his mind. but catherine, hearing of his disorders, forced her way in to him; and, on this occasion, peter found how happy it was for him that he had permitted his wife to accompany him in this expedition. a wife, who, like her, had faced death in its most horrible shapes, and had exposed her person, like the meanest soldier, to the fire of the turkish artillery, had an undoubted right to speak to her husband, and to be heard. the czar accordingly listened to what she had to say, and in the end suffered himself to be persuaded to try and send to the vizier with proposals of peace. it has been a custom, from time immemorial, throughout the east, that when any people apply for an audience of the sovereign, or his representative, they must not presume to approach them without a present. on this occasion, therefore, catherine mustered the few jewels that she had brought with her, on this military tour, in which no magnificence or luxury were admitted; to these she added two black foxes' skins, and what ready money she could collect; the latter was designed for a present to the kiaia. she made choice herself of an officer, on whose fidelity and understanding she thought she could depend, who, accompanied with two servants, was to carry the presents to the grand vizier, and afterwards to deliver the money intended for the kiaia into his own hand. this officer was likewise charged with a letter from marshal sheremeto to the grand vizier. the memoirs of czar peter mentions this letter, but they take no notice of the other particulars of catherine's conduct in this business; however, they are sufficiently confirmed by the declaration issued by peter himself, in , when he caused catherine to be crowned empress, wherein we find these words:--'she has been of the greatest assistance to us in all our dangers, and particularly in the battle of pruth, when our army was reduced to twenty-two thousand men.' if the czar had then indeed no more men capable of bearing arms, the service which catherine did him, on that occasion, was fully equivalent to the honours and dignities conferred upon her. the ms. journal of peter the great observes, that on the day of the bloody battle (on the th july), he had thirty-one thousand five hundred and fifty-four foot, and six thousand six hundred and ninety-two horse, the latter almost all dismounted; he must then have lost sixteen thousand two hundred and forty-six men in that engagement. the same memoirs affirm, the loss sustained by the turks greatly exceeded that of the russians; for as the former rushed upon the czar's troops pell-mell, and without observing any order, hardly a single fire of the latter missed its effect. if this is fact, the affair of the th and st of july, was one of the most bloody that had been known for many ages. we must either suspect peter the great of having been mistaken, in his declaration at the crowning of the empress, when he acknowledges 'his obligations to her of having saved his army, which was reduced to twenty-two thousand men,' or accuse him of a falsity in his journal, wherein he says, that the day on which the above battle was fought, his army, exclusive of the succours he expected from the other side the moldavian mountains, amounted to thirty-one thousand five hundred and fifty-four foot, and six thousand six hundred and ninety-two horse. according to this calculation, the battle of pruth must have been by far more terrible than the historians or memorials have represented on either side. there must certainly be some mistake here, which is no uncommon thing in the relation of campaigns, especially when the writer enters into a minute detail of circumstances. the surest method, therefore, on these occasions, is to confine ourselves to the principal events, the victory and the defeat; as we can very seldom know, with any degree of certainty, the exact loss on either side. but however here the russian army might be reduced in point of numbers, there were still hopes that the grand vizier, deceived by their vigorous and obstinate resistance, might be induced to grant them peace, upon such terms as might be honourable to his master's arms, and at the same time not absolutely disgraceful to those of the czar. it was the great merit of catherine to have perceived this possibility, at a time when her consort and his generals expected nothing less than inevitable destruction. norberg, in his history of charles xii. quotes a letter, sent by the czar to the grand vizier, in which he expresses himself thus:--'if, contrary to my intentions, i have been so unhappy as to incur the displeasure of his highness, i am ready to make reparation for any cause of complaint he may have against me; i conjure you, most noble general, to prevent the further effusion of blood; give orders, i beseech you, to put a stop to the dreadful fire of your artillery, and accept the hostage i herewith send you.' this letter carries all the marks of falsity with it, as do indeed most of the random pieces of norberg: it is dated th july, n. s. whereas no letter was sent to baltagi mahomet till the st, n. s. neither was it the czar who wrote to the vizier, but his general sheremeto: there were no such expressions made use of as--'if the czar has had the misfortune to incur the displeasure of his highness;' such terms being suitable only to a subject, who implores the pardon of his sovereign, whom he has offended. there was no mention made of any hostage, nor was any one sent. the letter was carried by an officer, in the midst of a furious cannonade on both sides. sheremeto, in his letter, only reminded the vizier of certain overtures of peace that the porte had made at the beginning of the campaign, through the mediation of the dutch and english ministers, and by which the divan demanded that the fort and harbour of taganroc should be given up, which were the real subjects of the war. st july, .] some hours elapsed before the messenger received an answer from the grand vizier, and it was apprehended that he had either been killed by the enemy's cannon, or that they detained him prisoner. a second courier was therefore dispatched, with duplicates of the former letters, and a council of war was immediately held, at which catherine was present. at this council ten general officers signed the following resolution:-- 'resolved, if the enemy will not accept the conditions proposed, and should insist upon our laying down our arms, and surrendering at discretion, that all the ministers and general officers are unanimously of opinion, to cut their way through the enemy sword in hand.' in consequence of this resolution, a line of intrenchments was thrown round the baggage, and the russians marched some few paces out of their camp, towards the enemy, when the grand vizier caused a suspension of arms to be proclaimed between the two armies. all the writers of the swedish party have treated the grand vizier as a cowardly and infamous wretch, who had been bribed to sell the honour of his master's arms. in the same manner have several authors accused count piper of receiving money from the duke of marlborough, to persuade the king of sweden to continue the war against the czar; and have laid to the charge of the french minister, that he purchased the peace of seville for a stipulated sum. such accusations ought never to be advanced but on very strong proofs. it is very seldom that a minister will stoop to such meannesses, which are always discovered, sooner or later, by those who have been entrusted with the payment of the money, or by the public registers, which never lie. a minister of state stands as a public object to the eyes of all europe. his credit and influence depend wholly upon his character, and he is always sufficiently rich to be above the temptation of becoming a traitor. the place of viceroy of the turkish empire is so illustrious, and the profits annexed to it, in time of war, so immense, there was such a profusion of every thing necessary, and even luxurious, in the camp of baltagi mahomet, and, on the other hand, so much poverty and distress in that of the czar, that surely the grand vizier was rather in a condition to give than to receive. the trifling present of a woman, who had nothing to send but a few skins and some jewels, in compliance with the established custom of all courts, or rather those in particular of the east, can never be considered in the light of a bribe. the frank and open conduct of baltagi mahomet seems at once to give the lie to the black accusations with which so many writers have stained their relations. vice chancellor shaffiroff paid the vizier a public visit in his tent: every thing was transacted in the most open manner, on both sides; and indeed it could not be otherwise. the very first article of the negotiation was entered upon in the presence of a person wholly devoted to the king of sweden, a domestic of count poniatowsky, who was himself one of that monarch's generals. this man served as an interpreter, and the several articles were publicly reduced to writing by the vizier's chief secretary, hummer effendi. moreover, count poniatowsky was there in person. the present sent to the kiaia was offered probably in form, and every thing was transacted agreeable to the oriental customs. other presents were made by the turks in return; so that there was not the least appearance of treachery or contrivance. the motives which determined the vizier to consent to the proposals offered him, were, first that the body of troops under the command of general renne, on the borders of the river sireth, in moldavia, had already crossed three rivers, and were actually in the neighbourhood of the danube, where renne had already made himself master of the town and castle of brahila, defended by a numerous garrison, under the command of a basha. secondly, the czar had likewise another body of troops advancing through the frontiers of poland; and, lastly, it is more than probable that the vizier was not fully acquainted with the extreme scarcity that was felt in the russian camp. one enemy seldom furnishes another with an exact account of his provisions and ammunition; on the contrary, either side are accustomed rather to make a parade of plenty, even at a time when they are in the greatest necessity. there can be no artifices practised to gain intelligence of the true state of an adversary's affairs, by means of spies, between the turks and the russians. the difference of their dress, of their religion, and of their language, will not permit it. they are, moreover, strangers to that desertion which prevails in most of our armies; and, consequently, the grand vizier could not be supposed to know the desperate condition to which the czar's army was reduced. baltagi, who was not fond of war, and who, nevertheless, had conducted this very well, thought that his expedition would be sufficiently successful, if he put his master in possession of the towns and harbours which made the subject of the war, stopt the progress of the victorious army under renne, and obliged that general to quit the banks of the danube, and return back into russia, and for ever shut the entrance of the palus mæotis, the cimmerian bosphorus, and the black sea, against an enterprising prince; and, lastly, if he avoided taking these certain advantages, on the hazard of a new battle (in which, after all, despair might have got the better of superiority of numbers). the preceding day only he had beheld his janissaries repulsed with loss; and there wanted not examples of many victories having been gained by the weaker over the strong. such then were mahomet's reasons for accepting the proposals of peace. his conduct, however, did not merit the approbation of charles's officers, who served in the turkish army, nor of the khan of tartary. it was the interest of the latter, and his followers, to reject all terms of accommodation which would deprive them of the opportunity of ravaging the frontiers of russia and poland. charles xii. desired to be revenged on his rival, the czar: but the general, and the first minister of the ottoman empire, was neither influenced by the private thirst of revenge, which animated the christian monarch, nor by the desire of booty, which actuated the tartar chief. as soon as the suspension of arms was agreed to, and signed, the russians purchased of the turks the provisions, of which they stood in need. the articles of the peace were not signed at that time, as is related by la motraye, and which norberg has copied from him. the vizier, among other conditions, demanded that the czar should promise not to interfere any more in the polish affairs. this was a point particularly insisted upon by count poniatowsky; but it was, in fact, the interest of the ottoman crown, that the kingdom of poland should continue in its then defenceless and divided state; accordingly this demand was reduced to that of the russian troops evacuating the frontiers of poland. the khan of tartary, on his side, demanded a tribute of forty thousand sequins. this point, after being long debated, was at length given up. the grand vizier insisted a long time, that prince cantemir should be delivered up to him, as patkul had been to the king of sweden. cantemir was exactly in the same situation as mazeppa had been. the czar caused that hetman to be arraigned and tried for his defection, and afterwards to be executed in effigy. the turks were not acquainted with the nature of such proceeding; they knew nothing of trials for contumacy, nor of public condemnations. the affixing a sentence on any person, and executing him in effigy, were the more unusual amongst them, as their law forbids the representation of any human likeness whatever. the vizier in vain insisted on cantemir's being delivered up; peter peremptorily refused to comply, and wrote the following letter with his own hand, to his vice-chancellor shaffiroff. 'i can resign to the turks all the country, as far as curtzka, because i have hopes of being able to recover it again; but i will, by no means, violate my faith, which, once forfeited, can never be retrieved. i have nothing i can properly call my own, but my honour. if i give up that, i cease to be longer a king.' at length the treaty was concluded, and signed, at a village called falksen, on the river pruth. among other things, it was stipulated, that azoph, and the territories belonging thereto, should be restored, together with all the ammunition and artillery that were in the place, before the czar made himself master thereof, in . that the harbour of taganroc, in the zabach sea, should be demolished, as also that of samara, on the river of the same name; and several other fortresses. there was likewise another article added, respecting the king of sweden, which article alone, sufficiently shews the little regard the vizier had for that prince; for it was therein stipulated, that the czar should not molest charles, in his return to his dominions, and that afterwards the czar and he might make peace with the other, if they were so inclined. it is pretty evident by the wording of this extraordinary article, that baltagi mahomet had not forgot the haughty manner in which charles xii. had behaved to him a short time before, and it is not unlikely that this very behaviour of the king of sweden might have been one inducement with mahomet to comply so readily with his rival's proposals for peace. charles's glory depended wholly on the ruin of the czar: but we are seldom inclinable to exalt those who express a contempt for us: however, this prince, who refused the vizier a visit in his camp, on his invitation, when it was certainly his interest to have been upon good terms with him, now came thither in haste and unasked, when the work which put an end to all his hopes was on the point of being concluded. the vizier did not go to meet him in person, but contented himself with sending two of his bashas, nor would he stir out of his tent, till charles was within a few paces of him. this interview passed, as every one knows, in mutual reproaches. several historians have thought, that the answer which the vizier made to the king of sweden, when that prince reproached him with not making the czar prisoner, when he might have done it so easily, was the reply of a weak man. 'if i had taken him prisoner,' said mahomet, 'who would there be to govern his dominions?' it is very easy, however, to comprehend, that this was the answer of a man who was piqued with resentment, and these words which he added--'for it is not proper that every crowned head should quit his dominions'--sufficiently shewed that he intended to mortify the refugee of bender. charles gained nothing by his journey, but the pleasure of tearing the vizier's robe with his spurs; while that officer, who was in a condition to make him repent this splenetic insult, seemed not to notice it, in which he was certainly greatly superior to charles. if any thing could have made that monarch sensible, in the midst of his life, how easily fortune can put greatness to the blush, it would have been the reflection, that at the battle of pultowa, a pastry-cook's boy had obliged his whole army to surrender at discretion; and in this of pruth a wood-cutter was the arbiter of his fate, and that of his rival the czar: for the vizier, baltagi mahomet, had been a cutter of wood in the grand seignior's seraglio, as his name implied; and, far from being ashamed of that title, he gloried in it: so much do the manners of the eastern people differ from ours. when the news of this treaty reached constantinople, the grand seignior was so well pleased, that he ordered public rejoicings to be made for a whole week, and mahomet, the kiaia, or lieutenant-general, who brought the tidings to the divan, was instantly raised to the dignity of boujouk imraour, or master of the horse: a certain proof that the sultan did not think himself ill served by his vizier. norberg seems to have known very little of the turkish government, when he says, that 'the grand seignior was obliged to keep fair with baltagi mahomet, that vizier having rendered himself formidable.' the janissaries indeed have often rendered themselves formidable to their sultans; but there is not one example of a vizier, who has not been easily sacrificed to the will or orders of his sovereign, and mahomet was in no condition to support himself by his own power. besides, norberg manifestly contradicts himself, by affirming in the same page, that the janissaries were irritated against mahomet, and that the sultan stood in dread of his power. the king of sweden was now reduced to the necessity of forming cabals in the ottoman court; and a monarch, who had so lately made kings by his own power, was now seen waiting for audience, and offering memorials and petitions which were refused. charles ran through all the ambages of intrigue, like a subject who endeavours to make a minister suspected by his master. in this manner he acted against mahomet, and against those who succeeded him. at one time he addressed himself to the sultana valide by means of a jewess, who had admission into the seraglio; at another, he employed one of the eunuchs for the same purpose. at length he had recourse to a man who was to mingle among the grand seignior's guards, and, by counterfeiting a person out of his senses, to attract the attention of the sultan, and by that means deliver into his own hand a memorial from charles. from all these various schemes, the king of sweden drew only the mortification of seeing himself deprived of his thaim; that is to say, of the daily pension which the porte of its generosity had assigned him for his subsistence, and which amounted to about one thousand five hundred french livres.[ ] the grand vizier, instead of remitting this allowance to him as usual, sent him an order, in the form of a friendly advice, to quit the grand seignior's dominions. charles, however, was absolutely determined not to depart, still flattering himself with the vain hope, that he should once more re-enter poland and russia with a powerful army of turks. every one knows what was the issue of his inflexible boldness in the year , and how he engaged an army of janissaries, spahis, and tartars, with only himself, his secretaries, his valet de chambre, cook, and stable men; that he was taken prisoner in that country, where he had been treated with the greatest hospitality; and that he at length got back to his own kingdom in the disguise of a courier, after having lived five years in turkey: from all which it remains to be acknowledged, that if there was reason in the conduct of this extraordinary prince, it was a reason of a very different nature to that of other men. chap. xxi. conclusion of the affairs of pruth. it is necessary in this place to repeat an event already related in the history of charles xii. it happened during the suspension of arms which preceded the treaty of pruth, that two tartarian soldiers surprised and took prisoners two italian officers belonging to the czar's army, and sold them to an officer of the turkish janissaries. the vizier being informed of this breach of public faith, punished the two tartars with death. how are we to reconcile this severe delicacy with the violation of the law of nations in the person of tolstoy, the czar's ambassador, whom this very vizier caused to be arrested in the streets of constantinople, and afterwards imprisoned in the castle of the seven towers? there is always some reason for the contradictions we find in the actions of mankind. baltagi mahomet was incensed against the khan of tartary, for having opposed the peace he had lately made, and was resolved to shew that chieftain that he was his master. the treaty was no sooner concluded, than the czar quitted the borders of the pruth, and returned towards his own dominions, followed by a body of eight thousand turks, whom the vizier had sent as an army of observation to watch the motions of the russian army during its march, and also to serve as an escort or safeguard to them against the wandering tartars which infested those parts. peter instantly set about accomplishing the treaty, by demolishing the fortresses of samara and kamienska; but the restoring of azoph, and the demolition of the port of taganroc, met with some difficulties in the execution. according to the terms of the treaty it was necessary to distinguish the artillery and ammunition which belonged to the turks in azoph before that place was taken by the czar, from those which had been sent thither after it fell into his hands. the governor of the place spun out this affair to a tedious length, at which the porte was greatly incensed, and not without reason: the sultan was impatient to receive the keys of azoph. the vizier promised they should be sent from time to time, but the governor always found means to delay the delivery of them. baltagi mahomet lost the good graces of his master, and with them his place. the khan of tartary and his other enemies made such good use of their interest with the sultan, that the grand vizier was deposed, several bashas were disgraced at the same time; but the grand seignior, well convinced of this minister's fidelity, did not deprive him either of his life or estate, but only sent him to mytilene to take on him the command of that island. this simple removal from the helm of affairs (nov. ,), and the continuing to him his fortunes, and above all the giving him the command in mytilene, sufficiently contradicts all that norberg has advanced, to induce us to believe that this vizier had been corrupted with the czar's money. norberg asserts furthermore, that the bostangi basha, who came to divest him of his office, and to acquaint him of the grand seignior's sentence, declared him at the same time, 'a traitor, one who had disobeyed the orders of his sovereign lord, had sold himself to the enemy for money, and was found guilty of not having taken proper care of the interests of the king of sweden.' in the first place, this kind of declarations are not at all in use in turkey: the orders of the grand seignior always being issued privately, and executed with secresy. secondly, if the vizier had been declared a traitor, a rebel, and a corrupted person, crimes of this nature would have been instantly punished with death in a country where they are never forgiven. lastly, if he was punishable for not having sufficiently attended to the interests of the king of sweden, it is evident that this prince must have had such a degree of influence at the ottoman porte, as to have made the other ministers to tremble, who would consequently have endeavoured to gain his good graces; whereas, on the contrary, the basha jussuf, aga of the janissaries, who succeeded mahomet baltagi as grand vizier, had the same sentiments as his predecessor, in relation to charles's conduct, and was so far from doing him any service that he thought of nothing but how to get rid of so dangerous a guest; and when count poniatowsky, the companion and confidant of that monarch, went to compliment the vizier on his new dignity, the latter spoke to him thus. 'pagan, i forewarn thee, that if ever i find thee hatching any intrigues, i will, upon the first notice, cause thee to be thrown into the sea with a stone about thy neck.' this compliment count poniatowsky himself relates in the memoirs which he drew up at my request, and is a sufficient proof of the little influence his master had in the turkish court. all that norberg has related touching the affairs of that empire, appear to come from a prejudiced person, and one who was very ill informed of the circumstances he pretends to write about. and we may count among the errors of a party-spirit and political falsehoods, every thing which this writer advances unsupported by proofs, concerning the pretended corruption of a grand vizier, that is, of a person who had the disposal of upwards of sixty millions per annum, without being subject to the least account.[ ] i have now before me the letter which count poniatowsky wrote to king stanislaus immediately after the signing the treaty of pruth, in which he upbraids baltagi mahomet with the slight he shewed to the king of sweden, his dislike to the war, and the unsteadiness of his temper; but never once hints the least charge of corruption: for he knew too well what the place of grand vizier was, to entertain an idea, that the czar was capable of setting a price upon the infidelity of the second person in the ottoman empire. schaffirow and sheremeto, who remained at constantinople as hostages on the part of the czar for his performance of the treaty, were not used in the manner they would have been if known to have purchased this peace, and to have joined with the vizier in deceiving his master. they were left to go at liberty about the city, escorted by two companies of janissaries. the czar's ambassador tolstoy having been released from his confinement in the seven towers, immediately upon the signing of the treaty of pruth, the dutch and english ministers interposed with the new vizier to see the several articles of that treaty put into execution. azoph was at length restored to the turks, and the fortresses mentioned in the treaty were demolished according to stipulation. and now the ottoman porte, though very little inclinable to interfere in the differences between christian princes, could not without vanity behold himself made arbitrator between russia, poland, and the king of sweden; and insisted that the czar should withdraw his troops out of poland, and deliver the turkish empire from so dangerous a neighbour; and, desirous that the christian princes might continually be at war with each other, wished for nothing so much as to send charles home to his own dominions, but all this while had not the least intention of furnishing him with an army. the tartars were still for war, as an artificer is willing to seize every opportunity to exercise his calling. the janissaries likewise wished to be called into the field, but more out of hatred against the christians, their naturally restless disposition, and from a fondness for rapine and licentiousness, than from any other motives. nevertheless, the english and dutch ministers managed their negotiations so well, that they prevailed over the opposite party: the treaty of pruth was confirmed, but with the addition of a new article, by which it was stipulated that the czar should withdraw his forces from poland within three months, and that the sultan should immediately send charles xii. out of his dominions. we may judge from this new treaty whether the king of sweden had that interest at the porte which some writers would have us to believe. he was evidently sacrificed on this occasion by the new vizier, basha jussuf, as he had been before by baltagi mahomet. the historians of his party could find no other expedient to colour over this fresh affront, but that of accusing jussuf of having been bribed like his predecessor. such repeated imputations, unsupported by any proofs, are rather the clamours of an impotent cabal, than the testimonies of history; but faction, when driven to acknowledge facts, will ever be endeavouring to alter circumstances and motives; and, unhappily, it is thus that all the histories of our times will be handed down to posterity so altered, that they will be unable to distinguish truth from falsehoods. chap. xxii. marriage of the czarowitz.--the marriage of peter and catherine publicly solemnized.--catherine finds her brother. this unsuccessful campaign of pruth proved more hurtful to the czar than ever the battle of narva was; for after that defeat he had found means not only to retrieve his losses, but also to wrest ingria out of the hands of charles xii.; but by the treaty of falksten, in which he consented to give up to the sultan his forts and harbours on the palus mæotis, he for ever lost his projected superiority in the black sea. he had besides an infinite deal of work on his hands; his new establishments in russia were to be perfected, he had to prosecute his victories over the swedes, to settle king augustus firmly on the polish throne, and to manage affairs properly with the several powers with whom he was in alliance; but the fatigues he had undergone having impaired his health, he was obliged to go to carlsbad[ ] to drink the waters of that place. while he was there he gave orders for his troops to enter pomerania, who blockaded stralsund, and took five other towns in the neighbourhood. pomerania is the most northern province of germany, bounded on the east by prussia and poland, on the west by brandenburg, on the south by mecklenburg, and on the north by the baltic sea. it has changed masters almost every century: gustavus adolphus got possession of it in his famous thirty years war, and it was afterwards solemnly ceded to the crown of sweden by the treaty of westphalia: with a reservation of the little bishopric of camin, and a few other small towns lying in upper pomerania. the whole of this province properly belongs to the elector of brandenburg, in virtue of a family compact made with the dukes of pomerania, whose family being extinct in , consequently by the laws of the empire the house of brandenburg had an undoubted right to the succession; but necessity, the first of all laws, occasioned this family compact to be set aside by the treaty of osnaburg; after which, almost the whole of pomerania fell to the lot of the victorious swedes. the czar's intention was to wrest from sweden all the provinces that crown was possessed of in germany; and, in order to accomplish his design, he found it necessary to enter into a confederacy with the electors of hanover and brandenburg, and the king of denmark. peter drew up the several articles of the treaty he projected with these powers, and also a complete plan of the necessary operations for rendering him master of pomerania. in the meanwhile he went to torgau, to be present at the nuptials of his son the czarowitz alexis with the princess of wolfenbuttel (oct. , .), sister to the consort of charles vi. emperor of germany; nuptials which, in the end, proved fatal to his own peace of mind, and to the lives of the unfortunate pair. the czarowitz was born of the first marriage of peter the great to eudocia lapoukin, to whom he was espoused in : she was at that time shut up in the monastery of susdal; their son alexis petrowitz, who was born the st of march, , was now in his twenty-second year: this prince was not then at all known in europe; a minister, whose memoirs of the court of russia have been printed, says in a letter he writes to his master, dated august , , that 'this prince was tall and well made, resembled his father greatly, was of an excellent disposition, very pious, had read the bible five times over, took great delight in the ancient greek historians, appeared to have a very quick apprehension and understanding, was well acquainted with the mathematics, the art of war, navigation, and hydraulics; that he understood the german language, and was then learning the french, but that his father would never suffer him to go through a regular course of study.' this character is very different from that which the czar himself gives of his son some time afterwards, in which we shall see with how much grief he reproaches him with faults directly opposite to those good qualities, for which this minister seems so much to admire him. we must leave posterity, therefore, to determine between the testimony of a stranger, who may have formed too slight a judgment, and the declaration of a parent, who thought himself under a necessity of sacrificing the dictates of nature to the good of his people. if the minister was no better acquainted with the disposition of alexis than he seems to have been with his outward form, his evidence will have but little weight; for he describes this prince as tall and well made, whereas the memoirs sent me from petersburg say, that he was neither the one nor the other. his mother-in-law, catherine, was not present at his nuptials; for though she was already looked upon as czarina, yet she had not been publicly acknowledged as such: and moreover, as she had only the title of highness given her at the czar's court, her rank was not sufficiently settled to admit of her signing the contract, or to appear at the ceremony in a station befitting the consort of peter the great. she therefore remained at thorn in polish prussia. soon after the nuptials were celebrated, the czar sent the new-married couple away to wolfenbuttel (jan. , ), and brought back the czarina to petersburg with that dispatch and privacy which he observed in all his journies. feb. , .] having now disposed of his son, he publicly solemnized his own nuptials with catherine, which had been declared in private before. this ceremony was performed with as much magnificence as could be expected in a city but yet in its infancy, and from a revenue exhausted by the late destructive war against the turks, and that which he was still engaged in against the king of sweden. the czar gave orders for, and assisted himself in, all the preparations for the ceremony, according to the usual custom; and catherine was now publicly declared czarina, in reward for having saved her husband and his whole army. the acclamations with which this declaration was received at petersburg were sincere: the applauses which subjects confer on the actions of a despotic sovereign are generally suspected; but on this occasion they were confirmed by the united voice of all the thinking part of europe, who beheld with pleasure, on the one hand, the heir of a vast monarchy with no other glory than that of his birth, married to a petty princess; and, on the other hand, a powerful conqueror, and a law-giver, publicly sharing his bed and his throne with a stranger and a captive, who had nothing to recommend her but her merit: and this approbation became more general as the minds of men grew more enlightened by that sound philosophy, which has made so great a progress in our understandings within these last forty years: a philosophy, equally sublime and discerning, which teaches us to pay only the exterior respect to greatness and authority, while we reserve our esteem and veneration for shining talents and meritorious services. and here i think myself under an obligation to relate what i have met touching this marriage in the dispatches of count bassewitz, aulic counsellor at vienna, and long time minister from holstein at the court of russia; a person of great merit, and whose memory is still held in the highest esteem in germany. in some of his letters he speaks thus: 'the czarina had not only been the main instrument of procuring the czar that reputation which he enjoyed, but was likewise essentially necessary in the preservation of his life. this prince was unhappily subject to violent convulsion fits, which were thought to be the effects of poison which had been given him while he was young. catherine alone had found the secret of alleviating his sufferings by an unwearied assiduity and attention to whatever she thought would please him, and made it the whole study of her life to preserve a health so valuable to the kingdom and to herself, insomuch, that the czar finding he could not live without her, made her the companion of his throne and bed.' i here only repeat the express words of the writer himself. fortune, which has furnished us with many extraordinary scenes in this part of the world, and who had raised catherine from the lowest abyss of misery and distress to the pinnacle of human grandeur, wrought another extraordinary incident in her favour some few years after her marriage with the czar, and which i find thus related in a curious manuscript of a person who was at that time in the czar's service, and who speaks of it as a thing to which he was eye-witness. an envoy from king augustus to the court of peter the great, being on his return home through courland, and having put up at an inn by the way, heard the voice of a person who seemed in great distress, and whom the people of the house were treating in that insulting manner which is but too common on such occasions: the stranger, with a tone of resentment, made answer, that they would not dare to use him thus, if he could but once get to the speech of the czar, at whose court he had perhaps more powerful protectors than they imagined. the envoy, upon hearing this, had a curiosity to ask the man some questions, and, from certain answers he let fall, and a close examination of his face, he thought he found in him some resemblance of the empress catherine; and, when he came to dresden, he could not forbear writing to one of his friends at petersburg concerning it. this letter, by accident, came to the czar's hands, who immediately sent an order to prince repnin, then governor of riga, to endeavour to find out the person mentioned in the letter. prince repnin immediately dispatched a messenger to mittau, in courland, who, on inquiry, found out the man, and learned that his name was charles scavronsky; that he was the son of a lithuanian gentleman, who had been killed in the wars of poland, and had left two children then in the cradle, a boy and a girl, who had neither of them received any other education than that which simple nature gives to those who are abandoned by the world. scavronsky, who had been parted from his sister while they were both infants, knew nothing further of her than that she had been taken prisoner in marienburg, in the year , and supposed her to be still in the household of prince menzikoff, where he imagined she might have made some little fortune. prince repnin, agreeable to the particular orders he had received from the czar, caused scavronsky to be seized, and conducted to riga, under pretence of some crime laid to his charge; and, to give a better colour to the matter, at his arrival there, a sham information was drawn up against him, and he was soon after sent from thence to petersburg, under a strong guard, with orders to treat him well upon the road. when he came to that capital, he was carried to the house of an officer of the emperor's palace, named shepleff, who, having been previously instructed in the part he was to play, drew several circumstances from the young man in relation to his condition; and, after some time, told him, that although the information, which had been sent up from riga against him, was of a very serious nature, yet he would have justice done him; but that it would be necessary to present a petition to his majesty for that purpose; that one should accordingly be drawn up in his name, and that he (shepleff) would find means that he should deliver it into the czar's own hands. the next day the czar came to dine with shepleff, at his own house, who presented scavronsky to him; when his majesty, after asking him abundance of questions was convinced, by the natural answers he gave, that he was really the czarina's brother; they had both lived in livonia, when young, and the czar found every thing that scavronsky said to him, in relation to his family affairs, tally exactly with what his wife had told him concerning her brother, and the misfortunes which had befallen her and her brother in the earlier part of their lives. the czar, now satisfied of the truth, proposed the next day to the empress to go and dine with him at shepleff's; and, when dinner was over, he gave orders that the man, whom he had examined the day before, should be brought in again. accordingly he was introduced, dressed in the same clothes he had wore while on his journey to riga; the czar not being willing that he should appear in any other garb than what his unhappy circumstances had accustomed him to. he interrogated him again, in the presence of his wife; and the ms. adds, that, at the end, he turned about to the empress, and said these very words:--'this man is your brother; come hither, charles, and kiss the hand of the empress, and embrace your sister.' the author of this narrative adds further, that the empress fainted away with surprise; and that, when she came to herself again, the czar said, 'there is nothing in this but what is very natural. this gentlemen is my brother in-law; if he has merit, we will make something of him; if he has not, we must leave him as he is.' i am of opinion, that this speech shews as much greatness as simplicity, and a greatness not very common. my author says, that scavronsky remained a considerable time at shepleff's house; that the czar assigned him a handsome pension, but that he led a very retired life. he carries his relation of this adventure no farther, as he made use of it only to disclose the secret of catherine's brother: but we know, from other authorities, that this gentleman was afterwards created a count; that he married a young lady of quality, by whom he had two daughters, who were married to two of the principal noblemen in russia. i leave to those, who may be better informed of the particulars, to distinguish what is fact in this relation, from what may have been added; and shall only say, that the author does not seem to have told this story out of a fondness for entertaining his readers with the marvellous, since his papers were not intended to be published. he is writing freely to a friend, about a thing of which he says he was an eye-witness. he may have been mistaken in some circumstances, but the fact itself has all the appearance of truth; for if this gentleman had known that his sister was raised to so great dignity and power, he would not certainly have remained so many years without having made himself known to her. and this discovery, however extraordinary it may seem, is certainly not more so than the exaltation of catherine herself; and both the one and the other are striking proofs of the force of destiny, and may teach us to be cautious how we treat as fabulous several events of antiquity, which perhaps are less contradictory to the common order of things, than the adventures of this empress. the rejoicings made by the czar peter for his own marriage, and that of his son, were not of the nature of those transient amusements which exhaust the public treasure, and are presently lost in oblivion. he completed his grand foundry for cannon, and finished the admiralty buildings. the highways were repaired, several ships built, and others put upon the stocks; new canals were dug, and the finishing hand put to the grand warehouses, and other public buildings, and the trade of petersburg began to assume a flourishing face. he issued an ordinance for removing the senate from moscow to petersburg, which was executed in the month of april, . by this step he made his new city the capital of the empire, and early he employed a number of swedish prisoners in beautifying this city, whose foundation had been laid upon their defeat. chap. xxiii. taking of stetin.--descent upon finland.--event of the year . peter, now seeing himself happy in his own family, and in his state, and successful in his war against charles xii. and in the several negotiations which he had entered into with other powers, who were resolved to assist him in driving out the swedes from the continent, and cooping them up for ever within the narrow isthmus of scandinavia, began to turn his views entirely towards the north-west coasts of europe, not laying aside all thoughts of the palus mæotis, or black sea. the keys of azoph, which had been so long withheld from the basha, who was to have taken possession of that place for the sultan, his master, were now given up; and, notwithstanding all the endeavours of the king of sweden, the intrigues of his friends at the ottoman porte, and even some menaces of a new war on the part of the turks, both that nation and the russian empire continued at peace. charles xii. still obstinate in his resolution not to depart from bender, tamely submitted his hopes and fortunes to the caprice of a grand vizier; while the czar was threatening all his provinces, arming against him the king of denmark, and the elector of hanover, and had almost persuaded the king of prussia, and even the poles and saxons, to declare openly for him. charles, ever of the same inflexible disposition, behaved in the like manner towards his enemies, who now seemed united to overwhelm him, as he had done in all his transactions with the ottoman porte; and, from his lurking-place in the deserts of bessarabia, defied the czar, the kings of poland, denmark, and prussia, the elector of hanover (soon afterwards king of england), and the emperor of germany, whom he had so greatly offended, when he was traversing silesia with his victorious troops, and who now shewed his resentment, by abandoning him to his ill fortune, and refused to take under his protection any of those countries, which as yet belonged to the swedes in germany. .] it would have been no difficult matter for him to have broken the league which was forming against him, would he have consented to cede stetin, in pomerania, to frederick (the first) king of prussia, and elector of brandenburg, who had a lawful claim thereto; but charles did not then look upon prussia as a power of any consequence: and indeed neither he, nor any other person, could at that time foresee, that this petty kingdom, and the electorate of brandenburg, either of which were little better than deserts, would one day become formidable. charles therefore would not listen to any proposal of accommodation, but determined rather to stake all than to give up any thing, sent orders to the regency of stockholm, to make all possible resistance, both by sea and land: and these orders were obeyed, notwithstanding that his dominions were almost exhausted of men and money. the senate of stockholm fitted out a fleet of thirteen ships of the line, and every person capable of bearing arms came voluntarily to offer their service: in a word, the inflexible courage and pride of charles seemed to be infused into all his subjects, who were almost as unfortunate as their master. it can hardly be supposed, that charles's conduct was formed upon any regular plan. he had still a powerful party in poland, which assisted by the crim tartars, might indeed have desolated that wretched country, but could not have replaced stanislaus on the throne; and his hope of engaging the ottoman porte to espouse his cause, or convincing the divan that it was their interest to send ten or twelve thousand men to the assistance of his friends, under pretence that the czar was supporting his ally, augustus, in poland, was vain and chimerical. sep. .] nevertheless, he continued still at bender, to wait the issue of these vain projects, while the russians, danes, and saxons, were overrunning pomerania. peter took his wife with him on this expedition. the king of denmark had already made himself master of stade, a sea-port town in the duchy of bremen, and the united forces of russia, saxony, and denmark, were already before stralsund. oct. .] and now king stanislaus, seeing the deplorable state of so many provinces, the impossibility of his recovering the crown of poland, and the universal confusion occasioned by the inflexibility of charles, called a meeting of the swedish generals, who were covering pomerania with an army of eleven thousand men, as the last resource they had left in those provinces. when they were assembled, he proposed to them to make their terms with king augustus, offering himself to be the victim of this reconciliation. on this occasion, he made the following speech to them, in the french language, which he afterwards left in writing, and which was signed by nine general officers, amongst whom happened to be one patkul, cousin-german to the unfortunate patkul, who lost his life on the wheel, by the order of charles xii. 'having been hitherto the instrument of procuring glory to the swedish arms, i cannot think of proving the cause of their ruin. i therefore declare myself ready to sacrifice the crown, and my personal interests, to the preservation of the sacred person of their king, as i can see no other method of releasing him from the place where he now is.' having made this declaration (which is here given in his own words), he prepared to set out for turkey, in hopes of being able to soften the inflexible temper of his benefactor, by the sacrifice he had made for him. his ill fortune would have it, that he arrived in bessarabia at the very time that charles, after having given his word to the sultan, that he would depart from bender, and having received the necessary remittances for his journey, and an escort for his person, took the mad resolution to continue there, and opposed a whole army of turks and tartars, with only his own domestics. the former, though they might easily have killed him, contented themselves with taking him prisoner. at this very juncture, stanislaus arriving, was seized himself; so that two christian kings were prisoners at one time in turkey. at this time, when all europe was in commotion, and that france had just terminated a war equally fatal against one part thereof, in order to settle the grandson of lewis xiv. on the throne of spain, england gave peace to france, and the victory gained by marshal villars at denain in flanders, saved that state from its other enemies. france had been, for upwards of a century, the ally of sweden, and it was the interest of the former, that its ally should not be stript of his possessions in germany. charles, unhappily, was at such a distance from his dominions, that he did not even know what was transacting in france. the regency of stockholm, by a desperate effort, ventured to demand a sum of money from the french court, at a time when its finances were at so low an ebb, that lewis xiv. had hardly money enough to pay his household servants. count sparre was sent with a commission to negotiate this loan, in which it was not to be supposed he would succeed. however, on his arrival at versailles, he represented to the marquis de torci the inability of the regency to pay the little army which charles had still remaining in pomerania, and which was ready to break up and dispute of itself on account of the long arrears due to the men; and that france was on the point of beholding the only ally she had left, deprived of those provinces which were so necessary to preserve the balance of power; that indeed his master, charles, had not been altogether so attentive to the interests of france in the course of his conquests as might have been expected, but that the magnanimity of lewis xiv. was at least equal to the misfortunes of his royal brother and ally. the french minister, in answer to this speech, so effectually set forth the incapacity of his court to furnish the requested succours, that count sparre despaired of success. it so happened, however, that a private individual did that which sparre had lost all hopes of obtaining. there was at that time in paris, a banker, named samuel bernard, who had accumulated an immense fortune by making remittances for the government to foreign countries, and other private contracts. this man was intoxicated with a species of pride very rarely to be met with from people of his profession. he was immoderately fond of every thing that made an éclat, and knew very well, that one time or another the government would repay with interest those who hazarded their fortune to supply its exigencies. count sparre went one day to dine with him, and took care to flatter his foible so well, that before they rose from table the banker put six hundred thousand livres[ ] into his hand; and then immediately waiting on the marquis de torci, he said to him--'i have lent the crown of sweden six hundred thousand livres in your name, which you must repay me when you are able.' count steinbock, who at that time commanded charles's army in pomerania, little expected so seasonable a supply; and seeing his troops ready to mutiny, to whom he had nothing to give but promises, and that the storm was gathering fast upon him, and being, moreover, apprehensive of being surrounded by the three different armies of russia, denmark, and saxony, desired a cessation of arms, on the supposition that stanislaus' abdication would soften the obstinacy of charles, and that the only way left him to save the forces under his command, was by spinning out the time in negotiations. he therefore dispatched a courier to bender, to represent to the king of sweden the desperate state of his finances and affairs, and the situation of the army, and to acquaint him that he had under these circumstances, found himself necessitated to apply for a cessation of arms, which he should think himself very happy to obtain. the courier had not been dispatched above three days, and stanislaus was not yet set out on his journey to bender, when steinbock received the six hundred thousand livres from the french banker above-mentioned; a sum, which was at that time an immense treasure in a country so desolated. thus unexpectedly reinforced with money, which is the grand panacea for all disorders of state, steinbock found means to revive the drooping spirits of his soldiery; he supplied them with all they wanted, raised new recruits, and in a short time saw himself at the head of twelve thousand men, and dropping his former intention of procuring a suspension of arms, he sought only for an opportunity of engaging the enemy. this was the same steinbock, who in the year , after the defeat of pultowa, had revenged the swedes on the danes by the eruption he made into scania, where he marched against and engaged them with only a few militia, whom he had hastily gathered together, with their arms slung round them with ropes, and totally defeated the enemy. he was, like all the other generals of charles xii. active and enterprising; but his valour was sullied by his brutality: as an instance of which, it will be sufficient to relate, that having, after an engagement with the russians, given orders to kill all the prisoners, and perceiving a polish officer in the service of the czar, who had caught hold on king stanislaus' stirrup, then on horseback, in order to save his life, he, steinbock, shot him dead with his pistol in that prince's arms, as has been already mentioned in the life of charles xii. and king stanislaus has declared to the author of this history, that had he not been withheld by his respect and gratitude to the king of sweden, he should immediately have shot steinbock dead upon the spot. dec. , .] general steinbock now marched by the way of wismar to meet the combined forces of the russians, danes, and saxons, and soon found himself near the danish and saxon army, which was advanced before that of the russians about the distance of three leagues. the czar sent three couriers, one after another, to the king of denmark, beseeching him to wait his coming up, and thereby avoid the danger which threatened him, if he attempted to engage the swedes with an equality of force; but the danish monarch, not willing to share with any one the honour of a victory which he thought sure, advanced to meet the swedish general, whom he attacked near a place called gadebusch. this day's affair gave a further proof of the natural enmity that subsisted between the swedes and danes. the officers of these two nations fought with most unparalleled inveteracy against each other, and neither side would desist till death terminated the dispute. steinbock gained a complete victory before the russian army could come up to the assistance of the danes, and the next day received an order from his master, charles, to lay aside all thoughts of a suspension of arms, who, at the same time, upbraided him for having entertained an idea so injurious to his honour, and for which he told him he could make no reparation, but by conquering or perishing. steinbock had happily obviated the orders and the reproach by the victory he had gained. but this victory was like that which had formerly brought such a transient consolation to king augustus, when in the torrent of his misfortunes he gained the battle of calish against the swedes, who were conquerors in every other place, and which only served to aggravate his situation, as this of gadebusch only procrastinated the ruin of steinbock and his army. when the king of sweden received the news of steinbock's success, he looked upon his affairs as retrieved, and even flattered himself with hopes to engage the ottoman porte to declare for him, who at that time seemed disposed to come to a new rupture with the czar: full of these fond imaginations, he sent orders to general steinbock to fall upon poland, being still ready to believe, upon the least shadow of success, that the day of narva, and those in which he gave laws to his enemies, were again returned. but unhappily he too soon found these flattering hopes utterly blasted by the affair of bender, and his own captivity amongst the turks. the whole fruits of the victory at gadebusch were confined to the surprising in the night-time, and reducing to ashes, the town of altena, inhabited by traders and manufacturers, a place wholly defenceless, and which, not having been in arms, ought, by all the laws of war and nations, to have been spared; however, it was utterly destroyed, several of the inhabitants perished in the flames, others escaped with their lives, but naked, and a number of old men, women, and children, perished with the cold and fatigue they suffered, at the gates of hamburg. such has too often been the fate of several thousands of men for the quarrels of two only; and this cruel advantage was the only one gained by steinbock; for the russians, danes, and saxons pursued him so closely, that he was obliged to beg for an asylum in toningen, a fortress in the duchy of holstein, for himself and army. this duchy was at that time subjected to the most cruel ravages of any part of the north, and its sovereign was the most miserable of all princes. he was nephew to charles xii. and it was on his father's account, who had married charles's sister, that that monarch carried his arms even into the heart of copenhagen, before the battle of narva, and for whom he likewise made the treaty of travendahl, by which the dukes of holstein were restored to their rights. this country was in part the cradle of the cimbri, and of the old normans, who overrun the province of neustria, in france, and conquered all england, naples, and sicily; and yet, at this present time, no state pretends less to make conquests than this part of the ancient cimbrica chersonesus, which consists only of two petty duchies; namely, that of sleswic, belonging in common to the king of denmark and the duke of holstein, and that of gottorp, appertaining to the duke alone. sleswic is a sovereign principality; holstein is a branch of the german empire, called the roman empire. the king of denmark, and the duke of holstein-gottorp, were of the same family; but the duke, nephew to charles xii. and presumptive heir to his crown, was the natural enemy of the king of denmark, who had endeavoured to crush him in the very cradle. one of his father's brothers, who was bishop of lubec, and administrator of the dominions of his unfortunate ward, now beheld himself in the midst of the swedish army, whom he durst not succour, and those of russia, denmark, and saxony, that threatened his country with daily destruction. nevertheless, he thought himself obliged to try to save charles's army, if he could do it without irritating the king of denmark, who had made himself master of his country, which he exhausted, by raising continual contributions. this bishop and administrator was entirely governed by the famous baron gortz, the most artful and enterprising man of his age, endowed with a genius amazingly penetrating, and fruitful in every resource: with talents equal to the boldest and most arduous attempts; he was as insinuating in his negotiations as he was hardy in his projects; he had the art of pleasing and persuading in the highest degree, and knew how to captivate all hearts by the vivacity of his genius, after he had won them by the softness of his eloquence. he afterwards gained the same ascendant over charles xii. which he had then over the bishop; and all the world knows, that he paid with his life the honour he had of governing the most ungovernable and obstinate prince that ever sat upon a throne. gortz had a private conference with general steinbock,[ ] at which he promised to deliver him up the fortress of toningen,[ ] without exposing the bishop administrator, his master, to any danger: and, at the same time, gave the strongest assurances to the king of denmark, that he would defend the place to the uttermost. in this manner are almost all negotiations carried on, affairs of state being of a very different nature from those of private persons; the honour of ministers consisting wholly in success, and those of private persons in the observance of their promises. general steinbock presented himself before toningen: the commandant refused to open the gates to him, and by this means put it out of the king of denmark's power to allege any cause of complaint against the bishop administrator; but gortz causes an order to be given in the name of the young duke, a minor, to suffer the swedish army to enter the town. the secretary of the cabinet, named stamke, signs this order in the name of the duke of holstein: by this means gortz preserves the honour of an infant who had not as yet any power to issue orders; and he at once serves the king of sweden, to whom he was desirous to make his court, and the bishop administrator his master, who appeared not to have consented to the admission of the swedish troops. the governor of toningen, who was easily gained, delivered up the town to the swedes, and gortz excused himself as well as he could to the king of denmark, by protesting that the whole had been transacted without his consent. the swedes retired partly within the walls, and partly under the cannon of the town: but this did not save them: for general steinbock was obliged to surrender himself prisoner of war, together with his whole army, to the number of eleven thousand men, in the same manner as about sixteen thousand of their countrymen had done at the battle of pultowa. by this convention it was agreed, that steinbock with his officers and men might be ransomed or exchanged. the price for the general's ransom was fixed at eight thousand german crowns;[ ] a very trifling sum, but which steinbock however was not able to raise; so that he remained a prisoner in copenhagen till the day of his death. the territories of holstein now remained at the mercy of the incensed conqueror. the young duke became the object of the king of denmark's vengeance, and was fated to pay for the abuse which gortz had made of his name: thus did the ill fortune of charles xii. fall upon all his family. gortz perceiving his projects thus dissipated, and being still resolved to act a distinguished part in the general confusion of affairs, recalled to mind a scheme which he had formed to establish a neutrality in the swedish territories in germany. the king of denmark was ready to take possession of toningen; george, elector of hanover, was about to seize bremen and verden, with the city of stade; the new-made king of prussia, frederick william, cast his views upon stetin, and czar peter was preparing to make himself master of finland; and all the territories of charles xii. those of sweden excepted, were going to become the spoils of those who wanted to share them. how then could so many different interests be rendered compatible with a neutrality? gortz entered into negotiation at one and the same time with all the several princes who had any views in this partition; he continued night and day passing from one province to the other; he engaged the governor of bremen and verden to put those two duchies into the hands of the elector of hanover by way of sequestration, so that the danes should not take possession of them for themselves: he prevailed with the king of prussia to accept jointly with the duke of holstein, of the sequestration of stetin and wismar, in consideration of which, the king of denmark was to act nothing against holstein, and was not to enter toningen. it was most certainly a strange way of serving charles xii. to put his towns into the hands of those who might choose if they would ever restore them; but gortz, by delivering these places to them as pledges, bound them to a neutrality, at least for some time; and he was in hopes to be able afterwards to bring hanover and brandenburg to declare for sweden: he prevailed on the king of prussia whose ruined dominions stood in need of peace, to enter into his views, and in short he found means to render himself necessary to all these princes, and disposed of the possessions of charles xii. like a guardian, who gives up one part of his ward's estate to preserve the other, and of a ward incapable of managing his affairs himself; and all this without any regular authority or commission, or other warrant for his conduct, than full powers given him by the bishop of lubec, who had no authority to grant such powers from charles himself. such was the baron de gortz, and such his actions, which have not hitherto been sufficiently known. there have been instances of an oxenstiern, a richlieu, and an alberoni, influencing the affairs of all parts of europe; but that the privy counsellor of a bishop of lubec should do the same as they, without his conduct being avowed by any one, is a thing hitherto unheard of. june, .] nevertheless he succeeded to his wishes in the beginning; for he made a treaty with the king of prussia, by which that monarch engaged, on condition of keeping stetin in sequestration, to preserve the rest of pomerania for charles xii. in virtue of this treaty, gortz made a proposal to the governor of pomerania, meyerfeld, to give up the fortress of stetin to the king of prussia for the sake of peace, thinking that the swedish governor of stetin would prove as easy to be persuaded as the holsteiner who had the command of toningen; but the officers of charles xii. were not accustomed to obey such orders. meyerfeld made answer, that no one should enter stetin but over his dead body and the ruins of the place, and immediately sent notice to his master of the strange proposal. the messenger at his arrival found charles prisoner at demirtash, in consequence of his adventure at bender, and it was doubtful, at that time, whether he would not remain all his life in confinement in turkey, or else be banished to some of the islands in the archipelago, or some part of asia under the dominion of the ottoman porte. however charles from his prison sent the same orders to meyerfeld, as he had before done to steinbock; namely, rather to perish than to submit to his enemies, and even commanded him to take his inflexibility for his example. gortz, finding that the governor of stetin had broke in upon his measures, and would neither hearken to a neutrality nor a sequestration, took it into his head, not only to sequester the town of stetin of his own authority, but also the city of stralsund, and found means to make the same kind of treaty (june, ,) with the king of poland, elector of saxony, for that place, which he had done with the elector of brandenburg for stetin. he clearly saw how impossible it would be for the swedes to keep possession of those places without either men or money, while their king was a captive in turkey, and he thought himself sure of turning aside the scourge of war from the north by means of these sequestrations. the king of denmark himself at length gave into the projects of gortz: the latter had gained an entire ascendant over prince menzikoff, the czar's general and favourite, whom he had persuaded that the duchy of holstein must be ceded to his master, and flattered the czar with the prospect of opening a canal from holstein into the baltic sea; an enterprise perfectly conformable to the inclination and views of this royal founder: and, above all, he laboured to insinuate to him, that he might obtain a new increase of power, by condescending to become one of the powers of the empire, which would entitle him to a vote in the diet of ratisbon, a right that he might afterwards for ever maintain by that of arms. in a word, no one could put on more different appearances, adapt himself to more opposite interests, or act a more complicated part, than did this skilful negotiator; he even went so far as to engage prince menzikoff to ruin the very town of stetin, which he was endeavouring to save; and in which, at length, to his misfortune, he succeeded but too well. when the king of prussia saw a russian army before stetin, he found that place would be lost to him, and remain in the possession of the czar. this was just what gortz expected and waited for. prince menzikoff was in want of money; gortz got the king of prussia to lend him four hundred thousand crowns: he afterwards sent a message to the governor of the place, to know of him--whether he would rather choose to see stetin in ashes, and under the dominion of russia, or to trust it in the hands of the king of prussia, who would engage to restore it to the king, his master?--the commandant at length suffered himself to be persuaded, and gave up the place, which menzikoff entered; and, in consideration of the four hundred thousand crowns, delivered it afterwards, together with all the territories thereto adjoining, into the hands of the king of prussia, who, for form's sake, left therein two battalions of the troops of holstein, and has never since restored that part of pomerania. from this period, the second king of prussia, successor to a weak and prodigal father, laid the foundation of that greatness, to which his state has since arrived by military discipline and economy. the baron de gortz, who put so many springs in motion, could not, however, succeed in prevailing on the danes to spare the duchy of holstein, or forbear taking possession of toningen. he failed in what appeared to have been his first object, though he succeeded in all his other views, and particularly in that of making himself the most important personage of the north, which, indeed, was his principal object. the elector of hanover then had secured to himself bremen and verden, of which charles xii. was now stripped. the saxon army was before wismar (sept. ); stetin was in the hands of the king of prussia; the russians were ready to lay siege to stralsund, in conjunction with the saxons; and these latter had already landed in the island of rugen, and the czar, in the midst of the numberless negotiations on all sides, while others were disputing about neutralities and partitions, makes a descent upon finland. after having himself pointed the artillery against stralsund, he left the rest to the care of his allies and prince menzikoff, and, embarking in the month of may, on the baltic sea, on board a ship of fifty guns, which he himself caused to be built at petersburg, he sailed for the coast of finland, followed by a fleet of ninety-two whole, and one hundred and ten half-gallies, having on board near sixteen thousand troops. he made his descent at elsingford, (may . n. s. .) the most southern part of that cold and barren country, lying in degrees north latitude; and, notwithstanding the numberless difficulties he had to encounter, succeeded in his design. he caused a feint attack to be made on one side of the harbour, while he landed his troops on the other, and took possession of the town. he then made himself master of abo, borgo, and the whole coast. the swedes now seemed not to have one resource left; for it was at this very time, that their army, under the command of general steinbock, was obliged to surrender prisoners of war at toningen. these repeated disasters which befel charles, were, as we have already shewn, followed by the loss of bremen, verden, stetin, and a part of pomerania; and that prince himself, with his ally and friend, stanislaus, were afterwards both prisoners in turkey: nevertheless, he was not to be undeceived in the flattering notion he had entertained of returning to poland, at the head of an ottoman army, replacing stanislaus on the throne, and once again making his enemies tremble. chap. xxiv. successes of peter the great.--return of charles xii. into his own dominions. [sidenote: .] peter, while he was following the course of his conquests, completed the establishment of his navy, brought twelve thousand families to settle in petersburg, kept all his allies firm to his person and fortunes, not withstanding they had all different interests and opposite views; and with his fleet kept in awe all the sea-ports of sweden, on the gulfs of finland and bothnia. prince galitzin, one of his land-generals, whom he had formed himself, as he had done all his other officers, advanced from elsingford, where the czar had made his descent, into the midst of the country, near the village of tavasthus, which was a post that commanded the gulf of bothnia, and was defended by a few swedish regiments, and about eight thousand militia. in this situation, a battle was unavoidable, (mar. , .) the event of which proved favourable to the russians, who entirely routed the whole swedish army, and penetrated as far as vaza, so that they were now masters of about eighty leagues of country. the swedes were still in possession of a fleet, with which they kept the sea. peter had, for a considerable time, waited with impatience for an opportunity of establishing the reputation of his new marine. accordingly he set out from petersburg, and having got together a fleet of sixteen ships of the line, and one hundred and eighty galleys, fit for working among the rocks and shoals that surround the island of aland, and the other islands in the baltic sea, bordering upon the swedish coast, he fell in with the fleet of that nation near their own shores. this armament greatly exceeded his in the largeness of the ships, but was inferior in the number of galleys, and more proper for engaging in the open sea, than among rocks, or near the shore. the advantage the czar had in this respect was entirely owing to himself: he served in the rank of rear-admiral on board his own fleet, and received all the necessary orders from admiral apraxin. peter resolved to make himself master of the island of aland, which lies only twelve leagues off the swedish coast; and, though obliged to pass full in view of the enemy's fleet, he effected this bold and hazardous enterprise. his galleys forced a passage through the enemy, whose cannon did not fire low enough to hurt them, and entered aland; but as that coast is almost surrounded with rocks, the czar caused eighty small galleys to be transported by men over a point of land, and launched into the sea, at a place called hango, where his large ships were at anchor. erenschild, the swedish rear-admiral, thinking that he might easily take or sink all these galleys, stood in shore, in order to reconnoitre their situation, but was received with so brisk a fire from the russian fleet, that most of his men were killed or wounded; and all the galleys and praams he had brought with him were taken, together with his own ship. (aug. .) the admiral himself endeavoured to escape in a boat, but being wounded, was obliged to surrender himself prisoner, and was brought on board the galley where the czar was, navigating it himself. the scattered remains of the swedish fleet made the best of their way home; and the news of this accident threw all stockholm into confusion, which now began to tremble for its own safety. much about the same time, colonel scouvalow neuschlof attacked the only remaining fortress on the western side of finland, and made himself master of it, after a most obstinate resistance on the part of the besieged. this affair of aland was, next to that of pultowa, the most glorious that had ever befallen the arms of peter the great, who now saw himself master of finland, the government of which he committed to prince galitzin, and returned to petersburg (sept. .), victorious over the whole naval force of sweden, and more than ever respected by his allies; the stormy season now approaching, not permitting him to remain longer with his ships in the finlandish and bothnic seas. his good fortune also brought him back to his capital, just as the czarina was brought to bed of a princess, who died, however, about a year afterwards. he then instituted the order of st. catherine, in honour of his consort,[ ] and celebrated the birth of his daughter by a triumphal entry, which was of all the festivals to which he had accustomed his subjects, that which they held in the greatest esteem. this ceremony was ushered in by bringing nine swedish galleys, and seven praams filled with prisoners, and rear-admiral erenschild's own ship, into the harbour of cronstadt. the cannon, colours, and standards, taken in the expedition to finland, and which had come home in the russian admiral's ship, were brought on this occasion to petersburg, and entered that metropolis in order of battle. a triumphal arch, which the czar had caused to be erected, and which, as usual, was made from a model of his own, was decorated with the insignia of his conquests. under this arch the victors marched in procession, with admiral apraxin, at their head; then followed the czar in quality of rear-admiral, and the other officers according to their several ranks. they were all presented one after another to the vice-admiral rodamonoski, who, at this ceremony represented the sovereign. this temporary vice-emperor distributed gold medals amongst all the officers, and others of silver to the soldiers and sailors. the swedish prisoners likewise passed under the triumphal arch, and admiral erenschild followed immediately after the czar, his conqueror. when they came to the place where the vice-czar was seated on his throne, admiral apraxin presented to him rear-admiral peter, who demanded to be made vice-admiral, in reward for his services. it was then put to the vote, if his request should be granted; and it may easily be conceived that he had the majority on his side. after this ceremony was over, which filled every heart with joy, and inspired every mind with emulation, with a love for his country, and a thirst of fame, the czar made the following speech to those present: a speech which deserves to be transmitted to the latest posterity. 'countrymen and friends! what man is there among you, who could have thought, twenty years ago, that we should one day fight together on the baltic sea, in ships built by our own hands; and that we should establish settlements in countries conquered by our own labours and valour?--greece is said to have been the ancient seat of the arts and sciences: they afterwards took up their abode in italy, from whence they spread themselves through every part of europe. it is now our turn to call them ours, if you will second my designs, by joining study to obedience. the arts circulate in this globe, as the blood does in the human body; and perhaps they may establish their empire amongst us, on their return back to greece, their mother country; and i even venture to hope, that we may one day put the most civilized nations to the blush, by our noble labours and the solid glory resulting therefrom.' here is the true substance of this speech, so every way worthy of a great founder, and which has lost its chief beauties in this, and every other translation; but the principal merit of this eloquent harangue is, its having been spoken by a victorious monarch, at once the founder and lawgiver of his empire. the old boyards listened to this speech with greater regret for the abolition of their ancient customs, than admiration of their master's glory; but the young ones could not hear him without tears of joy. the splendour of these times were further heightened by the return of the russian ambassadors from constantinople, (sept. , .) with a confirmation of the peace with the turks: an ambassador sent by sha hussein from persia, had arrived some time before with a present to the czar of an elephant and five lions. he received, at the same time, an ambassador from mahomet babadir, khan of the usbeck tartars, requesting his protection against another tribe of tartars; so that both extremities of asia and europe seemed to join to offer him homage, and add to his glory. the regency of stockholm, driven to despair by the desperate situation of their affairs, and the absence of their sovereign, who seemed to have abandoned his dominions, had come to a resolution no more to consult him in relation to their proceedings; and, immediately after the victory the czar gained over their navy, they sent to the conqueror to demand a passport, for an officer charged with proposals of peace. the passport was sent; but, just as the person appointed to carry on the negotiation was on the point of setting out, the princess ulrica eleonora, sister to charles xii. received advice from the king her brother, that he was preparing, at length, to quit turkey, and return home to fight his own battles. upon this news the regency did not dare to send the negotiator (whom they had already privately named) to the czar; and, therefore, resolved to support their ill-fortune till the arrival of charles to retrieve it. in effect, charles, after a stay of five years and some months in turkey, set out from that kingdom in the latter end of october, . every one knows that he observed the same singularity in his journey, which characterized all the actions of his life. he arrived at stralsund the d of november following. as soon as he got there, baron de gortz came to pay his court to him; and, though he had been the instrument of one part of his misfortunes, yet he justified his conduct with so much art, and filled the imagination of charles with such flattering hopes, that he gained his confidence, as he had already done that of every other minister and prince with whom he had entered into any negotiations. in short, he made him believe, that means might be found to draw off the czar's allies, and thereby procure an honourable peace, or at least to carry on the war upon an equal footing; and from this time gortz gained a greater ascendancy over the mind of the king of sweden than ever count piper had. the first thing which charles did after his arrival at stralsund was to demand a supply of money from the citizens of stockholm, who readily parted with what little they had left, as not being able to refuse any thing to a king, who asked only to bestow, who lived as hard as the meanest soldier, and exposed his life equally in defence of his country. his misfortunes, his captivity, his return to his dominions, so long deprived of his presence, were arguments which prepossessed alike his own subjects and foreigners in his favour, who could not forbear at once to blame and admire, to compassionate and to assist him. his reputation was of a kind totally differing from that of peter the great: it consisted not in cherishing the arts and sciences, in enacting laws, in establishing a form of government, nor in introducing commerce among his subjects; it was confined entirely to his own person. he placed his chief merit in a valour superior to what is commonly called courage. he defended his dominions with a greatness of soul equal to that valour, and aimed only to inspire other nations with awe and respect for him: hence he had more partizans than allies. chap. xxv. state of europe at the return of charles xii. siege of stralsund. when charles xii. returned to his dominions in the year , he found the state of affairs in europe very different from that in which he had left them. queen anne of england was dead, after having made peace with france. lewis xiv. had secured the monarchy of spain for his grandson the duke of anjou, and had obliged the emperor charles vi. and the dutch to agree to a peace, which their situation rendered necessary to them; so that the affairs of europe had put on altogether a new face. those of the north had undergone a still greater change. peter was become sole arbiter in that part of the world: the elector of hanover, who had been called to fill the british throne, had views of extending his territories in germany, at the expense of sweden, who had never had any possessions in that country, but since the reign of the great gustavus. the king of denmark aimed at recovering scania, the best province of sweden, which had formerly belonged to the danes. the king of prussia, as heir to the dukes of pomerania, laid claim to a part of that province. on the other hand, the holstein family, oppressed by the king of denmark, and the duke of mecklenburg, almost at open war with his subjects, were suing to peter the great to take them under his protection. the king of poland, elector of saxony, was desirous to have the duchy of courland annexed to poland; so that, from the elbe to the baltic sea, peter the first was considered as the support of the several crowned heads, as charles xii. had been their greatest terror. many negotiations were set on foot after the return of charles to his dominions, but nothing had been done. that prince thought he could raise a sufficient number of ships of war and privateers, to put a stop to the rising power of the czar by sea; with respect to the land war, he depended upon his own valour; and gortz, who was on a sudden become his prime minister, persuaded him, that he might find means to defray the expense, by coining copper money, to be taken at ninety-six times less than its real value, a thing unparalleled in the histories of any state; but in the month of april, , the first swedish privateers that put to sea were taken by the czar's men of war, and a russian army marched into the heart of pomerania. the prussians, danes, and saxons, now sat down with their united forces before stralsund, and charles xii. beheld himself returned from his confinement at demirtash and demirtoca on the black sea, only to be more closely pent up on the borders of the baltic. we have already shewn, in the history of this extraordinary man, with what haughty and unembarrassed resolution he braved the united forces of his enemies in stralsund; and shall therefore, in this place, only add a single circumstance, which, though trivial, may serve to shew the peculiarity of his character. the greatest part of his officers having been either killed or wounded during the siege, the duty fell hard upon the few who were left. baron de reichel, a colonel, having sustained a long engagement upon the ramparts, and being tired out by repeated watchings and fatigues, had thrown himself upon a bench to take a little repose; when he was called up to mount guard again upon the ramparts. as he was dragging himself along, hardly able to stand, and cursing the obstinacy of the king his master, who subjected all those about him to such insufferable and fruitless fatigues, charles happened to overhear him. upon which, stripping off his own cloak, he spread it on the ground before him, saying, 'my dear reichel, you are quite spent; come, i have had an hour's sleep, which has refreshed me, i'll take the guard for you, while you finish your nap, and will wake you when i think it is time;' and so saying, he wrapt the colonel up in his cloak; and, notwithstanding all his resistance, obliged him to lie down to sleep, and mounted the guard himself. it was during this siege that the elector of hanover, lately made king of england, purchased of the king of denmark the province of bremen and verden, with the city of stade, (oct. .) which the danes had taken from charles xii. this purchase cost king george eight hundred thousand german crowns. in this manner were the dominions of charles bartered away, while he defended the city of stralsund, inch by inch, till at length nothing was left of it but a heap of ruins, which his officers compelled him to leave; (dec. .) and, when he was in a place of safety, general ducker delivered up those ruins to the king of prussia. some time afterwards, ducker, being presented to charles, that monarch reproached him with having capitulated with his enemies; when ducker replied, 'i had too great a regard for your majesty's honour, to continue to defend a place which you was obliged to leave.' however the prussians continued in possession of it no longer than the year , when they gave it up at the general peace. during the siege of stralsund, charles received another mortification, which would have been still more severe, if his heart had been as sensible to the emotions of friendship, as it was to those of fame and honour. his prime minister, count piper, a man famous throughout all europe, and of unshaken fidelity to his prince (notwithstanding the assertions of certain rash persons, or the authority of a mistaken writer): this piper, i say, had been the victim of his master's ambition ever since the battle of pultowa. as there was as that time no cartel for the exchange of prisoners subsisting between the russians and swedes, he had remained in confinement at moscow; and though he had not been sent into siberia, as the other prisoners were, yet his situation was greatly to be pitied. the czar's finances at that time were not managed with so much fidelity as they ought to be, and his many new establishments required an expense which he could with difficulty answer. in particular, he owed a considerable sum of money to the dutch, on account of two of their merchant-ships which had been burnt on the coast of finland, in the descent the czar had made on that country. peter pretended that the swedes were to make good the damage, and wanted to engage count piper to charge himself with this debt: accordingly he was sent for from moscow to petersburg, and his liberty was offered him, in case he could draw upon sweden letters of exchange to the amount of sixty thousand crowns. it is said he actually did draw bills for this sum upon his wife at stockholm, but that she being unable or unwilling to take them up, they were returned, and the king of sweden never gave himself the least concern about paying the money. be this as it may, count piper was closely confined in the castle of schlusselburg, where he died the year after, at the age of seventy. his remains were sent to the king of sweden, who gave them a magnificent burial; a vain and melancholy return to an old servant, for a life of suffering, and so deplorable an end! peter was satisfied with having got possession of livonia, esthonia, carelia, and ingria, which he looked upon as his own provinces, and to which he had, moreover, added almost all finland, which served as a kind of pledge, in case his enemies should conclude a peace. he had married one of his nieces to charles leopold, duke of mecklenburg, in the month of april of the same year, ( .) so that all the sovereigns of the north were now either his allies or his creatures. in poland, he kept the enemies of king augustus in awe; one of his armies, consisting of about eight thousand men, having, without any loss, quelled several of those confederacies, which are so frequent in that country of liberty and anarchy: on the other hand, the turks, by strictly observing their treaties, left him at full liberty to exert his power, and execute his schemes in their utmost extent. in this flourishing situation of his affairs, scarcely a day passed without being distinguished by new establishments, either in the navy, the army, or the legislature: he himself composed a military code for the infantry. nov. .] he likewise founded a naval academy at petersburg; dispatched lange to china and siberia, with a commission of trade; set mathematicians to work, in drawing charts of the whole empire; built a summer's palace at petershoff; and at the same time built forts on the banks of the irtish, stopped the incursions and ravages of the bukari[ ] on the one side, and, on the other, suppressed the tartars of kouban. .] his prosperity seemed now to be at its zenith, by the empress catherine's being delivered of a son, and an heir to his dominions being given him, in a prince born to the czarowitz alexis; but the joy for these happy events, which fell out within a few days of each other, was soon damped by the death of the empress's son; and the sequel of this history will shew us, that the fate of the czarowitz was too unfortunate, for the birth of a son to this prince to be looked upon as a happiness. the delivery of the czarina put a stop for some time to her accompanying, as usual, her royal consort in all his expeditions by sea and land; but, as soon as she was up again, she followed him to new adventures. chap. xxvi. new travels of the czar. wismar was at this time besieged by the czar's allies. this town, which belonged of right to the duke of mecklenburg, is situated on the baltic, about seven leagues distant from lubec, and might have rivalled that city in its extensive trade, being once one of the most considerable of the hans towns, and the duke of mecklenburg exercised therein a full power of protection, rather than of sovereignty. this was one of the german territories yet remaining to the swedes, in virtue of the peace of westphalia: but it was now obliged to share the same fate with stralsund. the allies of the czar pushed the siege with the greatest vigour, in order to make themselves masters of it before that prince's troops should arrive; but peter himself coming before the place in person, after the capitulation, (feb. ,) which had been made without his privacy, made the garrison prisoners of war. he was not a little incensed, that his allies should have left the king of denmark in possession of a town which was the right of a prince, who had married his niece; and his resentment on this occasion (which that artful minister, de gortz, soon after turned to his own advantage) laid the first foundation of the peace, which he meditated to bring about between the czar and charles xii. gortz took the first opportunity to insinuate to the czar, that sweden was sufficiently humbled, and that he should be careful not to suffer denmark and prussia to become too powerful. the czar joined in opinion with him, and as he had entered into the war, merely from motives of policy, whilst charles carried it on wholly on the principles of a warrior; he, from that instant, slackened in his operations against the swedes, and charles, every where unfortunate in germany, determined to risk one of those desperate strokes which success only can justify, and carried the war into norway. in the meantime, peter was desirous to make a second tour through europe. he had undertaken his first, as a person who travelled for instruction in the arts and sciences: but this second he made as a prince, who wanted to dive into the secrets of the several courts. he took the czarina with him to copenhagen, lubec, schwerin, and nystadt. he had an interview with the king of prussia at the little town of aversburg, from thence he and the empress went to hamburg, and to altena, which had been burned by the swedes, and which they caused to be rebuilt. descending the elbe as far as stade, they passed through bremen, where the magistrates prepared a firework and illuminations for them, which formed, in a hundred different places, these words--'our deliverer is come amongst us.' at length he arrived once more at amsterdam, (dec. , ,) and visited the little hut at saardam, where he had first learned the art of ship-building, about eighteen years before, and found his old dwelling converted into a handsome and commodious house, which is still to be seen, and goes by the name of the prince's house. it may easily be conceived, with what a kind of idolatry he was received by a trading and seafaring set of people, whose companion he had heretofore been, and who thought they saw in the conqueror of pultowa, a pupil who had learned from them to gain naval victories; and had, after their example, established trade and navigation in his own dominions. in a word, they looked upon him as a fellow-citizen, who had been raised to the imperial dignity. the life, the travels, the actions of peter the great, as well as of his rival, charles of sweden, exhibit a surprising contrast to the manners which prevail amongst us, and which are, perhaps, rather too delicate; and this may be one reason, that the history of these two famous men so much excites our curiosity. the czarina had been left behind at schwerin indisposed, being greatly advanced in her pregnancy; nevertheless, as soon as she was able to travel, she set out to join the czar in holland, but was taken in labour at wesel, and there delivered of a prince, (jan. , ,) who lived but one day. it is not customary with us for a lying-in-woman to stir abroad for some time; but the czarina set out, and arrived at amsterdam in ten days after her labour. she was very desirous to see the little cabin her husband had lived and worked in. accordingly, she and the czar went together, without any state or attendance, excepting only two servants, and dined at the house of a rich ship-builder of saardam, whose name was kalf, and who was one of the first who had traded to petersburg. his son had lately arrived from france, whither peter was going. the czar and czarina took great pleasure in hearing an adventure of this young man, which i should not mention here, only as it may serve to shew the great difference between the manners of that country and ours. old kalf, who had sent this son of his to paris, to learn the french tongue, was desirous that he should live in a genteel manner during his stay there; and accordingly had ordered him to lay aside the plain garb which the inhabitants of saardam are in general accustomed to wear, and to provide himself with fashionable clothes at paris, and to live, in a manner, rather suitable to his fortune than his education; being sufficiently well acquainted with his son's disposition to know, that this indulgence would have no bad effect on his natural frugality and sobriety. as a calf is in the french language called veau, our young traveller, when he arrived at paris, took the name of de veau. he lived in a splendid manner, spent his money freely, and made several genteel connexions. nothing is more common at paris, than to bestow, without reserve, the title of count and marquis, whether a person has any claim to it or not, or even if he is barely a gentleman. this absurd practice has been allowed by the government, in order that, by thus confounding all ranks, and consequently humbling the nobility, there might be less danger of civil wars, which, in former times, were so frequent and destructive to the peace of the state. in a word, the title of marquis and count, with possessions equivalent to that dignity, are like those of knight, without being of any order; or abbé, without any church preferment; of no consequence, and not looked upon by the sensible part of the nation. young mr. kalf was always called the count de veau by his acquaintance and his own servants: he frequently made one in the parties of the princesses; he played at the duchess of berri's, and few strangers were treated with greater marks of distinction, or had more general invitations among polite company. a young nobleman, who had been always one of his companions in these parties, promised to pay him a visit at saardam, and was as good as his word: when he arrived at the village, he inquired for the house of count kalf; when, being shewn into a carpenter's work-shop, he there saw his former gay companion, the young count, dressed in a jacket and trowsers, after the dutch fashion, with an axe in his hand, at the head of his father's workmen. here he was received by his friend, in that plain manner to which he had been accustomed from his birth, and from which he never deviated. the sensible reader will forgive this little digression, as it is a satire on vanity, and a panegyric on true manners. the czar continued three months in holland, during which he passed his time in matters of a more serious nature than the adventure just related. since the treaties of nimeguen, ryswic, and utrecht, the hague had preserved the reputation of being the centre of negotiations in europe. this little city, or rather village, the most pleasant of any in the north, is chiefly inhabited by foreign ministers, and by travellers, who come for instruction to this great school. they were, at that time, laying the foundation of a great revolution in europe. the czar, having gotten intelligence of the approaching storm, prolonged his stay in the low countries, that he might be nearer at hand, to observe the machinations going forward, both in the north and south, and prepare himself for the part which it might be necessary for him to act therein. chap. xxvii. continuation of the travels of peter the great.--conspiracy of baron gortz.--reception of the czar in france. he plainly saw that his allies were jealous of his power, and found that there is often more trouble with friends than with enemies. mecklenburg was one of the principal subjects of those divisions, which almost always subsist between neighbouring princes, who share in conquests. peter was not willing that the danes should take possession of wismar for themselves, and still less that they should demolish the fortifications, and yet they did both the one and the other. he openly protected the duke of mecklenburg, who had married his niece, and whom he regarded like a son-in-law, against the nobility of the country, and the king of england as openly protected these latter. on the other hand, he was greatly discontented with the king of poland, or rather with his minister, count flemming, who wanted to throw off that dependance on the czar, which necessity and gratitude had imposed. the courts of england, poland, denmark, holstein, mecklenburg, and brandenburg, were severally agitated with intrigues and cabals. towards the end of the year , and beginning of , gortz, who, as bassewitz tells us in his memoirs, was weary of having only the title of counsellor of holstein, and being only private plenipotentiary to charles xii. was the chief promoter of these intrigues, with which he intended to disturb the peace of all europe. his design was to bring charles xii. and the czar together, not only with a view to finish the war between them, but to unite them in friendship, to replace stanislaus on the crown of poland, and to wrest bremen and verden out of the hands of george i., king of england, and even to drive that prince from the english throne, in order to put it out of his power to appropriate to himself any part of the spoils of charles xii. there was at the same time a minister of his own character, who had formed a design to overturn the two kingdoms of england and france: this was cardinal alberoni, who had more power at that time in spain, than gortz had in sweden, and was of as bold and enterprising a spirit as himself, but much more powerful, as being at the head of affairs in a kingdom infinitely more rich, and never paid his creatures and dependants in copper money. gortz, from the borders of the baltic sea, soon formed a connexion with alberoni in spain. the cardinal and he both held a correspondence with all the wandering english who were in the interest of the house of stuart. gortz made visits to every place where he thought he was likely to find any enemies of king george, and went successively to germany, holland, flanders, and lorrain, and at length came to paris, about the end of the year . cardinal alberoni began, by remitting to him in paris a million of french livres, in order (to use the cardinal's expression) to set fire to the train. gortz proposed, that charles xii. should yield up several places to the czar, in order to be in a condition to recover all the others from his enemies, and that he might be at liberty to make a descent in scotland, while the partisans of the stuart family should make an effectual rising in england: after their former vain attempts to effect these views, it was necessary to deprive the king of england of his chief support, which at that time was the regent of france. it was certainly very extraordinary, to see france in league with england, against the grandson of lewis xiv., whom she herself had placed on the throne of spain, at the expence of her blood and treasure, notwithstanding the strong confederacy formed to oppose him; but it must be considered, that every thing was now out of its natural order, and the interests of the regent not those of the kingdom. alberoni, at that time, was carrying on a confederacy in france against this very regent.[ ] and the foundations of this grand project were laid almost as soon as the plan itself had been formed. gortz was the first who was let into the secret, and was to have made a journey into italy in disguise, to hold a conference with the pretender, in the neighbourhood of rome; from thence he was to have hastened to the hague, to have an interview with the czar, and then to have settled every thing with the king of sweden. the author of this history is particularly well informed of every circumstance here advanced, for baron gortz proposed to him to accompany him in these journies; and, notwithstanding he was very young at that time, he was one of the first witnesses to a great part of these intrigues. gortz returned from holland in the latter part of , furnished with bills of exchange from cardinal alberoni, and letters plenipotentiary from charles xii. it is incontestable that the jacobite party were to have made a rising in england, while charles, in his return from norway, was to make a descent in the north of scotland. this prince, who had not been able to preserve his own dominions on the continent, was now going to invade and overrun those of his neighbours, and just escaped from his prison in turkey, and from amidst the ruins of his own city of stralsund, europe might have beheld him placing the crown of great britain on the head of james iii. in london, as he had before done that of poland on stanislaus at warsaw. the czar, who was acquainted with a part of gortz's projects, waited for the unfolding of the rest, without entering into any of his plans, or indeed knowing them all. he was as fond of great and extraordinary enterprises as charles xii., gortz, or alberoni; but then it was as the founder of a state, a lawgiver, and a sound politician; and perhaps alberoni, gortz, and even charles himself, were rather men of restless souls, who sought after great adventures, than persons of solid understanding, who took their measures with a just precaution; or perhaps, after all, their ill successes may have subjected them to the charge of rashness and imprudence. during gortz's stay at the hague, the czar did not see him, as it would have given too much umbrage to his friends the states-general, who were in close alliance with, and attached to, the party of the king of england; and even his ministers visited him only in private, and with great precaution, having orders from their master to hear all he had to offer, and to flatter him with hopes, without entering into any engagement, or making use of his (the czar's) name in their conferences. but, notwithstanding all these precautions, those who understood the nature of affairs, plainly saw by his inactivity, when he might have made a descent upon scania with the joint fleets of russia and denmark, by his visible coolness towards his allies, and the little regard he paid to their complaints, and lastly, by this journey of his, that there was a great change in affairs, which would very soon manifest itself. in the month of january, , a swedish packet-boat, which was carrying letters over to holland, being forced by a storm upon the coast of norway, put into harbour there. the letters were seized, and those of baron de gortz and some other public ministers being opened, furnished sufficient evidence of the projected revolution. the court of denmark communicated these letters to the english ministry, who gave orders for arresting the swedish minister, gillembourg, then at the court of london, and seizing his papers; upon examining which they discovered part of his correspondence with the jacobites. feb. .] king george immediately wrote to the states-general, requiring them to cause the person of baron gortz to be arrested, agreeable to the treaty of union subsisting between england and that republic for their mutual security. but this minister, who had his creatures and emissaries in every part, was quickly informed of this order; upon which he instantly quitted the hague, and was got as far as arnheim, a town on the frontiers, when the officers and guards, who were in pursuit of him, and who are seldom accustomed to use such diligence in that country, came up with and took him, together with all his papers: he was strictly confined and severely treated; the secretary stank, the person who had counterfeited the sign manual of the young duke of holstein, in the affair of toningen, experienced still harsher usage. in fine, the count of gillembourg, the swedish envoy to the court of great britain, and the baron de gortz, minister plenipotentiary from charles xii. were examined like criminals, the one at london, and the other at arnheim, while all the foreign ministers exclaimed against this violation of the law of nations. this privilege, which is much more insisted upon than understood, and whose limits and extent have never yet been fixed, has, in almost every age, received violent attacks. several ministers have been driven from the courts where they resided in a public character, and even their persons have been more than once seized upon, but this was the first instance of foreign ministers being interrogated at the bar of a court of justice, as if they were natives of the country. the court of london and the states-general laid aside all rules upon seeing the dangers which menaced the house of hanover; but, in fact, this danger, when once discovered, ceased to be any longer danger, at least at that juncture. the historian norberg must have been very ill informed, and have had a very indifferent knowledge of men and things, or at least have been strangely blinded by partiality, or under severe restrictions from his own court, to endeavour to persuade his readers, that the king of sweden had not a very great share in this plot. the affront offered to his ministers fixed charles more than ever in his resolution to try every means to dethrone the king of england. but here he found it necessary, once in his life time, to make use of dissimulation. he disowned his ministers and their proceedings, both to the regent of france and the states-general; from the former of whom he evicted a subsidy, and with the latter it was for his interest to keep fair. he did not, however, give the king of england so much satisfaction, and his ministers, gortz and gillembourg, were kept six months in confinement, and this repeated insult animated in him the desire of revenge. peter, in the midst of all these alarms and jealousies, kept himself quiet, waiting with patience the event of all from time; and having established such good order throughout his vast dominions, as that he had nothing to fear, either at home or from abroad, he resolved to make a journey to france. unhappily he did not understand the french language, by which means he was deprived of the greatest advantage he might have reaped from his journey; but he thought there might be something there worthy observation, and he had a mind to be a nearer witness of the terms on which the regent stood with the king of england, and whether that prince was staunch to his alliance. peter the great was received in france as such a monarch ought to be. marshal tessé was sent to meet him, with a number of the principal lords of the court, a company of guards and the king's coaches; but he, according to his usual custom, travelled with such expedition, that he was at gournay when the equipages arrived at elbeuf. entertainments were made for him in every place on the road where he chose to partake of them. on his arrival he was received in the louvre, where the royal apartments were prepared for him, and others for the princes kourakin and dolgorouki, the vice-chancellor shaffiroff, the ambassador tolstoy, the same who had suffered in his person that notorious violation of the laws of nations in turkey, and for the rest of his retinue. orders were given for lodging and entertaining him in the most splendid and sumptuous manner: but peter, who was come only to see what might be of use to him, and not to suffer these ceremonious triflings, which were a restraint upon his natural plainness, and consumed a time that was precious to him, went the same night to take up his lodgings at the other end of the city in the hotel of lesdiguiére, belonging to marshal villeroi, where he was entertained at the king's expense in the same manner as he would have been at the louvre. the next day (may , .) the regent of france went to make him a visit in the before mentioned hotel, and the day afterwards the young king, then an infant, was sent to him under the care of his governor, the marshal de villeroi, whose father had been governor to lewis xiv. on this occasion, they, by a polite artifice, spared the czar the troublesome restraint of returning this visit immediately after receiving it, by allowing an interview of two days for him to receive the respects of the several corporations of the city; the second night he went to visit the king: the household were all under arms, and they brought the young king quite to the door of the czar's coach. peter, surprised and uneasy at the prodigious concourse of people assembled about the infant monarch, took him in his arms, and carried him in that manner for some time. certain ministers, of more cunning than understanding, have pretended in their writings, that marshal de villeroi wanted to make the young king of france take the upper hand on this occasion, and that the czar made use of this stratagem to overturn the ceremonial under the appearance of good nature and tenderness; but this notion is equally false and absurd. the natural good breeding of the french court, and the respect due to the person of peter the great, would not permit a thought of turning the honours intended him into an affront. the ceremonial consisted in doing every thing for a great monarch and a great man, that he himself could have desired, if he had given any attention to matters of this kind. the journeys of the emperor charles iv. sigismund, and charles v. to france, were by no means comparable, in point of splendour, to this of peter the great. they visited this kingdom only from motives of political interest, and at a time when the arts and sciences, as yet in their infancy, could not render the era of their journey so memorable: but when peter the great, on his going to dine with the duke d'antin, in the palace of petitbourg, about three leagues out of paris, saw his own picture, which had been drawn for the occasion, brought on a sudden, and placed in a room where he was, he then found that no people in the world knew so well how to receive such a guest as the french. he was still more surprised, when, on going to see them strike the medals in the long gallery of the louvre, where all the king's artists are so handsomely lodged; a medal, which they were then striking, happening to fall to the ground, the czar stooped hastily down to take it up, when he beheld his own head engraved thereon, and on the reverse a fame standing with one foot upon a globe, and underneath these words from virgil--'vires acquirit eundo;' an allusion equally delicate and noble, and elegantly adapted to his travels and his fame. several of these medals in gold were presented to him, and to all those who attended him. wherever he went to view the works of any artists, they laid the master-pieces of their performances at his feet, which they besought him to accept. in a word, when he visited the manufactories of the gobelins, the workshop of the king's statuaries, painters, goldsmiths, jewellers, or mathematical instrument-makers, whatever seemed to strike his attention at any of those places, were always offered him in the king's name. peter, who was a mechanic, an artist, and a geometrician, went to visit the academy of sciences, who received him with an exhibition of every thing they had most valuable and curious; but they had nothing so curious as himself. he corrected, with his own hand, several geographical errors in the charts of his own dominions, and especially in those of the caspian sea. lastly, he condescended to become one of the members of that academy, and afterwards continued a correspondence in experiments and discoveries with those among whom he had enrolled himself as a simple brother. if we would find examples of such travellers as peter, we must go back to the times of a pythagoras and an anacharsis, and even they did not quit the command of a mighty empire, to go in search of instruction. and here we cannot forbear recalling to the mind of the reader the transport with which peter the great was seized on viewing the monument of cardinal richelieu. regardless of the beauties of the sculpture, which is a master-piece of its kind, he only admired the image of a minister who had rendered himself so famous throughout europe by disturbing its peace, and restored to france that glory which she had lost after the death of henry iv. it is well known, that, embracing the statue with rapture, he burst forth into this exclamation--'great man! i would have bestowed one half of my empire on thee, to have taught me to govern the other.' and now, before he quitted france, he was desirous to see the famous madame de maintenon, whom he knew to be, in fact, the widow of lewis xiv. and who was now drawing very near her end; and his curiosity was the more excited by the kind of conformity he found between his own marriage and that of lewis; though with this difference between the king of france and him, that he had publickly married an heroine, whereas lewis xiv. had only privately enjoyed an amiable wife. the czarina did not accompany her husband in this journey: he was apprehensive that the excess of ceremony would be troublesome to her, as well as the curiosity of a court little capable of distinguishing the true merit of a woman, who had braved death by the side of her husband both by sea and land, from the banks of the pruth to the coast of finland. chap. xxviii. of the return of the czar to his dominions.--of his politics and occupations. the behaviour of the sorbonne to peter, when he went to visit the mausoleum of cardinal richelieu, deserves to be treated of by itself. some doctors of this university were desirous to have the honour of bringing about a union between the greek and latin churches. those who are acquainted with antiquity need not be told, that the christian religion was first introduced into the west by the asiatic greeks: that it was born in the east, and that the first fathers, the first councils, the first liturgies, and the first rites, were all from the east; that there is not a single title or office in the hierarchy, but was in greek, and thereby plainly shews the same from whence they are all derived to us. upon the division of the roman empire, it was next to impossible, but that sooner or later there must be two religions as well as two empires, and that the same schism should arise between the eastern and western christians, as between the followers of osman and the persians. it is this schism which certain doctors of the sorbonne thought to crush all at once by means of a memorial which they presented to peter the great, and effect what pope leo xi. and his successors had in vain laboured for many ages to bring about, by legates, councils, and even money. these doctors should have known, that peter the great, who was the head of the russian church, was not likely to acknowledge the pope's authority. they expatiated in their memorial on the liberties of the gallican church, which the czar gave himself no concern about. they asserted that the popes ought to be subject to the councils, and that a papal decree is not an article of faith: but their representations were in vain; all they got by their pains, was to make the pope their enemy by such free declarations, at the same time that they pleased neither the czar nor the russian church. there were, in this plan of union, certain political views, which the good fathers did not understand, and some points of controversy which they pretended to understand, and which each party explained as they thought proper. it was concerning the holy ghost, which, according to the latin church, proceeds from the father and son, and which, at present, according to the greeks, proceeds from the father through the son, after having, for a considerable time, proceeded from the father only: on this occasion they quoted a passage in st. epiphanius, where it is said, 'that the holy ghost is neither brother to the son, nor grandson to the father.' but peter, when he left paris, had other business to mind, than that of clearing up passages in st. epiphanius. nevertheless, he received the memorial of the sorbonne with his accustomed affability. that learned body wrote to some of the russian bishops, who returned a polite answer, though the major part of them were offended at the proposed union. it was in order to remove any apprehensions of such a union, that peter, some time afterwards, namely, in , when he had driven the jesuits out of his dominions, instituted the ceremony of a burlesque conclave. he had at his court an old fool, named jotof, who had learned him to write, and who thought he had, by that trivial service, merited the highest honours and most important posts: peter, who sometimes softened the toils of government, by indulging his people in amusements, which befitted a nation as yet not entirely reformed by his labours, promised his writing-master, to bestow on him one of the highest dignities in the world; accordingly, he appointed him knéz papa, or supreme pontiff, with an appointment of two thousand crowns, and assigned him a house to live in, in the tartarian quarter at petersburg. he was installed by a number of buffoons, with great ceremony, and four fellows who stammered were appointed to harangue him on the accession. he created a number of cardinals, and marched in procession at their head, and the whole sacred college was made drunk with brandy. after the death of this jotof, an officer, named buturlin, was made pope: this ceremony has been thrice renewed at moscow and petersburg, the ridiculousness of which, though it appeared of no moment, yet has by its ridiculousness confirmed the people in their aversion to a church, which pretended to the supreme power, and whose church had anathematized so many crowned heads. in this manner did the czar revenge the cause of twenty emperors of germany, ten kings of france, and a number of other sovereigns; and this was all the advantage the sorbonne gained from its impolitic attempt to unite the latin and greek churches. the czar's journey to france proved of more utility to his kingdom, by bringing about a connexion with a trading and industrious people, than could have arisen from the projected union between two rival churches; one of which will always maintain its ancient independence, and the other its new superiority. peter carried several artificers with him out of france, in the same manner as he had done out of england; for every nation, which he visited, thought it an honour to assist him in his design of introducing the arts and sciences into his new-formed state, and to be instrumental in this species of new creation. in this expedition, he drew up a sketch of a treaty of commerce with france, and which he put into the hands of his ministers at holland, as soon as he returned thither, but it was not signed by the french ambassador, chateauneuf, till the th august, , at the hague. this treaty not only related to trade, but likewise to bringing about peace in the north. the king of france and the elector of brandenburg accepted of the office of mediators, which peter offered them. this was sufficient to give the king of england to understand, that the czar was not well pleased with him, and crowned the hopes of baron gortz, who from that time, left nothing undone to bring about a union between charles and peter, to stir up new enemies against george i. and to assist cardinal alberoni in his schemes in every part of europe. gortz now paid and received visits publicly from the czar's ministers at the hague, to whom he declared, that he was invested with full power from the court of sweden to conclude a peace. the czar suffered gortz to dispose all his batteries, without assisting therein himself, and was prepared either to make peace with the king of sweden, or to carry on the war, and continued still in alliance with the kings of denmark, poland, and russia, and in appearance with the elector of hanover. it was evident, that he had no fixed design, but that of profiting of conjunctures and circumstances, and that his main object was to complete the general establishments he had set on foot. he well knew, that the negotiations and interests of princes, their leagues, their friendships, their jealousies, and their enmities, were subject to change with each revolving year, and that frequently not the smallest traces remain of the greatest efforts in politics. a simple manufactory, well established, is often of more real advantage to a state than twenty treaties. peter having joined the czarina, who was waiting for him in holland, continued his travels with her. they crossed westphalia, and arrived at berlin in a private manner. the new king of prussia was as much an enemy to ceremonious vanities, and the pomp of a court, as peter himself; and it was an instructive lesson to the etiquette of vienna and spain, the punctilio of italy, and the politesse of the french court, to see a king, who only made use of a wooden elbow-chair, who went always in the dress of a common soldier, and who had banished from his table, not only all the luxuries, but even the more moderate indulgences of life. the czar and czarina observed the same plain manner of living; and had charles been with them, the world might have beheld four crowned heads, with less pomp and state about them than a german bishop, or a cardinal of rome. never were luxury and effeminacy opposed by such noble examples. it cannot be denied, that if one of our fellow-subjects had, from mere curiosity, made the fifth part of the journeys that peter i. did for the good of his kingdom, he would have been considered as an extraordinary person, and one who challenged our consideration. from berlin he went to dantzic, still accompanied by his wife, and from thence to mittau, where he protected his niece, the duchess of courland, lately become a widow. he visited all the places he had conquered, made several new and useful regulations in petersburg; he then goes to moscow, where he rebuilds the houses of several persons that had fallen to ruin; from thence he transports himself to czaritsin, on the river wolga, to stop the incursions of the cuban tartars, constructs lines of communication from the wolga to the don, and erects forts at certain distances, between the two rivers. at the same time he caused the military code, which he had lately composed, to be printed, and erected a court of justice, to examine into the conduct of his ministers, and to retrieve the disorders in his finances; he pardons several who were found guilty, and punishes others. among the latter was the great prince menzikoff himself, who stood in need of the royal clemency. but a sentence more severe, which he thought himself obliged to utter against his own son, filled with bitterness those days, which were, in other respects, covered with so much glory. chap. xxix. proceedings against prince alexis petrowitz. peter the great, at the age of seventeen, had married, in the year , eudocia theodora, or theodorouna lapoukin. bred up in the prejudices of her country, and incapable of surmounting them like her husband, the greatest opposition he met with in erecting his empire, and forming his people, came from her: she was, as is too common to her sex, a slave to superstition; every new and useful alteration she looked upon as a species of sacrilege; and every foreigner, whom the czar employed to execute his great designs, appeared to her no better than as corruptors and innovators. her open and public complaints gave encouragement to the factious, and those who were the advocates for ancient customs and manners. her conduct, in other respects, by no means made amends for such heavy imperfections. the czar was at length obliged to repudiate her in , and shut her up in a convent at susdal, where they obliged her to take the veil under the name of helena. the son, whom he had by her in , was born unhappily with the disposition of his mother, and that disposition received additional strength from his very first education. my memoirs say, that he was entrusted to the care of superstitious men, who ruined his understanding for ever. 'twas in vain that they hoped to correct these first impressions, by giving him foreign preceptors; their very quality of being foreigners disgusted him. he was not born destitute of genius; he spoke and wrote german well; he had a tolerable notion of designing, and understood something of mathematics: but these very memoirs affirm, that the reading of ecclesiastical books was the ruin of him. the young alexis imagined he saw in these books a condemnation of every thing which his father had done. there were some priests at the head of the malcontents, and by the priests he suffered himself to be governed. they persuaded him that the whole nation looked with horror upon the enterprises of peter; that the frequent illnesses of the czar promised but a short life; and that his son could not hope to please the nation, but by testifying his aversion for all changes of custom. these murmurs, and these counsels, did not break out into an open faction or conspiracy, but every thing seemed to tend that way, and the tempers of the people were inflamed. peter's marriage with catherine in , and the children which he had by her, began to sour the disposition of the young prince. peter tried every method to reclaim him: he even placed him at the head of the regency for a year; he sent him to travel; he married him in , at the end of the campaign of pruth, to the princess of brunswick. this marriage was attended with great misfortunes. alexis, now twenty years old, gave himself up to the debauchery of youth, and that boorishness of ancient manners he so much delighted in. these irregularities almost brutalized him. his wife, despised, ill-treated, wanting even necessaries, and deprived of all comforts, languished away in disappointment, and died at last of grief, the first of november, . she left the prince alexis one son; and according to the natural order, this son was one day to become heir to the empire. peter perceived with sorrow, that when he should be no more, all his labours were likely to be destroyed by those of his own blood. after the death of the princess, he wrote a letter to his son, equally tender and resolute: it finished with these words: 'i will still wait a little time, to see if you will correct yourself; if not, know that i will cut you off from the succession, as we lop off a useless member. don't imagine, that i mean only to intimidate you; don't rely upon the title of being my only son; for if i spare not my own life for my country, and the good of my people, how shall i spare you? i will rather choose to leave my kingdom to a foreigner who deserves it, than to my own son, who makes himself unworthy of it.' this is the letter of a father, but it is still more the letter of a legislator; it shews us, besides, that the order of succession was not invariably established in russia, as in other kingdoms, by those fundamental laws which take away from fathers the right of disinheriting their children; and the czar believed he had an undoubted prerogative to dispose of an empire which he had founded. at this very time the empress catherine was brought to bed of a prince, who died afterwards in . whether this news sunk the courage of alexis, or whether it was imprudence or bad counsel, he wrote to his father, that he renounced the crown, and all hopes of reigning. 'i take god to witness,' says he, 'and i swear by my soul that i will never pretend to the succession. i put my children into your hands, and i desire only a provision for life.' the czar wrote him a second letter, as follows:[ ]--'you speak of the succession, as if i stood in need of your consent in the disposal thereof. i reproached you with the aversion you have shewn to all kind of business, and signified to you, that i was highly dissatisfied with your conduct in general; but to these particulars you have given me no answer. paternal exhortations make no impression on you, wherefore i resolved to write you this once for the last time. if you despise the advice i give you while i am alive, what regard will you pay to them after my death? but though you had the inclination at present to be true to your promises, yet a corrupt priesthood will be able to turn you at pleasure, and force you to falsify them. they have no dependance but upon you. you have no sense of gratitude towards him who gave you your being. have you ever assisted him in toils and labours since you arrived at the age of maturity? do you not censure and condemn, nay, even affect to hold in detestation, whatever i do for the good of my people? in a word, i have reason to conclude, that if you survive me, you will overturn every thing that i have done. take your choice, either endeavour to make yourself worthy of the throne, or embrace a monastic state. i expect your answer, either in writing, or by word of mouth, otherwise i shall treat you as a common malefactor.' this letter was very severe, and it was easy for the prince to have replied, that he would alter his conduct; instead of which, he only returned a short answer to his father, desiring permission to turn monk.[ ] this resolution appeared altogether unnatural; and it may furnish matter of surprise, that the czar should think of travelling, and leaving a son at home so obstinate and ill-affected; but, at the same time, his doing so, is next to a proof, that he thought he had no reason to apprehend a conspiracy from that son. the czar, before he set out for germany and france, went to pay his son a visit. the prince, who was at that time ill, or at least feigned himself so, received his father in his bed, where he protested, with the most solemn oaths, that he was ready to retire into a cloister. the czar gave him six months to consider of it, and then set out on his travels with the czarina. no sooner was he arrived at copenhagen, than he heard (what he might reasonably expect) that the czarowitz conversed only with factions and evil-minded persons, who strove to feed his discontent. upon this the czar wrote to him, that he had to choose between a throne and a convent; and that, if he had any thoughts of succeeding him, he must immediately set out and join him at copenhagen. but the confidants of the prince remonstrating to him how dangerous it would be to trust himself in a place where he could have no friends to advise him, and where he would be exposed to the anger of an incensed father, and the machinations of a revengeful step-mother; he, under pretence of going to join his father at copenhagen, took the road to vienna, and threw himself under the protection of the emperor charles vi. his brother-in-law, intending to remain at his court till the death of the czar. this adventure of the czarowitz was nearly the same as that of lewis xi. of france, who, when he was dauphin, quitted the court of his father charles vii. and took refuge with the duke of burgundy; but the dauphin was much more culpable than alexis, inasmuch as he married in direct opposition to his father's will, raised an army against him, and threw himself into the arms of a prince, who was charles's declared enemy, and refused to hearken to the repeated remonstances of his father, to return back to his court. the czarowitz, on the contrary, had married only in compliance with his father's orders, had never rebelled against him, nor raised an army, nor taken refuge in the dominions of an enemy, and returned to throw himself at his feet, upon the very first letter he received from him; for, as soon as peter knew that his son had been at vienna, and had afterwards retired to tyrol, and from thence to naples, which, at that time, belonged to the emperor, he dispatched romanzoff, a captain of his guards, and the privy-counsellor tolstoy, with a letter written with his own hand, and dated at spa, the st of july, n. s. . they found the prince at naples, in the castle of st. elme, and delivered to him his father's letter, which was as follows:-- 'i now write to you for the last time, to acquaint you, that you must instantly comply with my orders, which will be communicated to you by tolstoy and romanzoff. if you obey, i give you my sacred word and promise, that i will not punish you; and that, if you will return home, i will love you more than ever; but, if you do not, i, as your father, and in virtue of the authority which god has given me over you, denounce against you my eternal curse; and, as your sovereign, declare to you, that i will find means to punish your disobedience, in which i trust god himself will assist me, and espouse the just cause of an injured parent and king. 'for the rest, remember that i have never laid any restraint upon you. was i obliged to leave you at liberty to choose your way of life? had i not the power in my own hands to oblige you to conform to my will? i had only to command, and make myself obeyed.' the viceroy of naples found it no difficult matter to persuade the czarowitz to return to his father. this is an incontestable proof that the emperor had no intention to enter into any engagements with the prince, that might give umbrage to his father. alexis therefore returned with the envoys, bringing with him his mistress, aphrosyne, who had been the companion of his elopement. we may consider the czarowitz as an ill-advised young man, who had gone to vienna and to naples, instead of going to copenhagen, agreeable to the orders of his father and sovereign. had he been guilty of no other crime than this, which is common enough with young and giddy persons, it was certainly very excusable. the prince determined to return to his father, on the faith of his having taken god to witness, that he not only would pardon him, but that he would love him better than ever. but it appears by the instructions given to the two envoys who went to fetch him, and even by the czar's own letter, that his father required him to declare the persons who had been his counsellors, and also to fulfil the oath he had made of renouncing the succession. it seemed difficult to reconcile this exclusion of the czarowitz from the succession, with the other part of the oath, by which the czar had bound himself in his letter, namely that of loving his son better than ever. perhaps divided between paternal love, and the justice he owed to himself and people, as a sovereign, he might limit the renewal of his affection to his son in a convent, instead of to that son on a throne: perhaps, likewise, he was in hopes to reduce him to reason, and to render him worthy of the succession at last, by making him sensible of the loss of a crown which he had forfeited by his own indiscretion. in a circumstance so uncommon, so intricate, and so afflicting, it may be easily supposed that the minds of both father and son were under equal perturbation, and hardly consistent with themselves. the prince arrived at moscow on the th of february, n. s. ; and the same day went to throw himself at his father's feet, who was returned to the city from his travels. they had a long conference together, and a report was immediately spread through the city, that the prince and his father were reconciled, and that all past transactions were buried in oblivion. but the next day, orders were issued for the regiments of guards to be under arms at break of day, and for all the czar's ministers, boyards, and counsellors, to repair to the great hall of the castle; as also for the prelates, together with two monks of st. basile, professors of divinity, to assemble in the cathedral, at the tolling of the great bell. the unhappy prince was then conducted to the great castle like a prisoner, and being come in his father's presence, threw himself in tears at his feet, and presented a writing, containing a confession of his faults, declaring himself unworthy of the succession, and imploring only that his life might be spared.[ ] the czar, raising up his son, withdrew with him into a private room, where he put many questions to him, declaring to him at the same time, that if he concealed any one circumstance relating to his elopement, his life should answer for it. the prince was then brought back to the great hall, where the council was assembled, and the czar's declaration, which had been previously prepared, was there publicly read in his presence.[ ] in this piece the czar reproaches his son with all those faults we have before related, namely, his little application to study, his connexions with the favourers of the ancient customs and manners of the country, and his ill-behaviour to his wife.--'he has even violated the conjugal faith,' saith the czar in his manifesto, 'by giving his affection to a prostitute of the most servile and low condition, during the life-time of his lawful spouse.' it is certain that peter himself had repudiated his own wife in favour of a captive, but that captive was a person of exemplary merit, and the czar had just cause for discontent against his wife, who was at the same time his subject. the czarowitz, on the contrary, had abandoned his princess for a young woman, hardly known to any one, and who had no other merit but that of personal charms. so far there appears some errors of a young man, which a parent ought to reprimand in secret, and which he might have pardoned. the czar, in his manifesto, next reproaches his son with his flight to vienna, and his having put himself under the emperor's protection; and adds, that he had calumniated his father, by telling the emperor that he was persecuted by him; and that he had compelled him to renounce the succession; and, lastly, that he had made intercession with the emperor to assist him with an armed force. here it immediately occurs, that the emperor could not, with any propriety, have entered into a war with the czar on such an occasion; nor could he have interposed otherwise between an incensed father and a disobedient son, than by his good offices to promote a reconciliation. accordingly we find, that charles vi. contented himself with giving a temporary asylum to the fugitive prince, and readily sent him back on the first requisition of the czar, in consequence of being informed of the place his son had chosen for his retreat. peter adds, in this terrible piece, that alexis had persuaded the emperor, that he went in danger of his life, if he returned back to russia. surely it was in some measure justifying these complaints of the prince, to condemn him to death at his return, and especially after so solemn a promise to pardon him; but we shall see, in the course of this history, the cause which afterwards moved the czar to denounce this ever-memorable sentence. for the present let us turn our eyes upon an absolute prince, pleading against his son before an august assembly.-- 'in this manner,' says he, 'has our son returned; and although, by his withdrawing himself and raising calumnies against us, he has deserved to be punished with death, yet, out of our paternal affection, we pardon his crimes; but, considering his unworthiness, and the series of his irregular conduct, we cannot in conscience leave him the succession to the throne of russia; foreseeing that, by his vicious courses, he would, after our decease, entirely destroy the glory of our nation, and the safety of our dominions, which we have recovered from the enemy. 'now, as we should pity our states and our faithful subjects, if, by such a successor, we should throw them back into a much worse condition than ever they were yet; so, by the paternal authority, and, in quality of sovereign prince, in consideration of the safety of our dominions, we do deprive our said son alexis, for his crimes and unworthiness, of the succession after us to our throne of russia, even though there should not remain one single person of our family after us. 'and we do constitute and declare successor to the said throne after us, our second son, peter,[ ] though yet very young, having no successor that is older. 'we lay upon our said son alexis our paternal curse, if ever at any time he pretends to, or reclaims, the said succession. 'and we desire our faithful subjects, whether ecclesiastics or seculars, of all ranks and conditions, and the whole russian nation, in conformity to this constitution and our will, to acknowledge and consider our son peter, appointed by us to succeed, as lawful successor, and agreeably to this our constitution, to confirm the whole by oath before the holy altar, upon the holy gospel, kissing the cross. 'and all those who shall ever at any time oppose this our will, and who, from this day forward, shall dare to consider our son alexis as successor, or assist him for that purpose, declare them traitors to us and our country. and we have ordered that these presents shall be every where published and promulgated, to the end that no person may pretend ignorance.' it would seem that this declaration had been prepared beforehand for the occasion, or that it had been drawn up with astonishing dispatch: for the czarowitz did not return to moscow till the th of february, and his renunciation in favour of the empress catherine's son is dated the th. the prince on his part signed his renunciation, whereby he acknowledges his exclusion to be just, as having merited it by his own fault and unworthiness; 'and i do hereby swear,' adds he, 'in presence of god almighty in the holy trinity, to submit in all things to my father's will,' &c. these instruments being signed, the czar went in procession to the cathedral, where they were read a second time, when the whole body of clergy signed their approbation with their seals at the bottom, to a copy prepared for that purpose.[ ] no prince was ever disinherited in so authentic a manner. there are many states in which an act of this kind would be of no validity; but in russia, as in ancient rome, every father has a power of depriving his son of his succession, and this power was still stronger in a sovereign than in a private subject, and especially in such a sovereign as peter. but, nevertheless, it was to be apprehended, that those who had encouraged the prince in his opposition to his father's will, and had advised him to withdraw himself from his court, might one day endeavour to set aside a renunciation which had been procured by force, and restore to the eldest son that crown which had been violently snatched from him to place on the head of a younger brother by a second marriage. in this case it was easy to foresee a civil war, and a total subversion of all the great and useful projects which peter had so much laboured to establish; and therefore the present matter in question was to determine between the welfare of near eighteen millions of souls (which was nearly the number which the empire of russia contained at that time), and the interest of a single person incapable of governing. hence it became necessary to find out those who were disaffected, and accordingly the czar a second time threatened his son with the most fatal consequences if he concealed any thing: and the prince was obliged to undergo a judicial examination by his father, and afterwards by the commissioners appointed for that purpose. one principal article of the charge brought against him, and that which served chiefly to his condemnation, was, a letter from one beyer, the emperor's resident at the court of russia, dated at petersburg, after the flight of the prince. this letter makes mention of a mutiny in the russian army then assembled at mecklenburg, and that several officers talked of clapping up catherine and her son in the prison where the late empress, whom peter had repudiated, was then confined, and of placing the czarowitz on the throne, as soon as he could be found out and brought back. these idle projects fell to the ground of themselves, and there was not the least appearance that alexis had ever countenanced them. the whole was only a piece of news related by a foreigner; the letter itself was not directed to the prince, and he had only a copy thereof transmitted him while at vienna. but a charge of a more grievous nature appeared against him, namely, the heads of a letter written with his own hand, and which he had sent, while at the court of vienna, to the senators and prelates of russia, in which were the following very strong assertions:--'the continual ill-treatment which i have suffered without having deserved it, have at length obliged me to consult my peace and safety by flight. i have narrowly escaped being confined in a convent, by those who have already served my mother in the same manner. i am now under the protection of a great prince, and i beseech you not to abandon me in this conjuncture.' the expression, _in this conjuncture_, which might be construed into a seditious meaning, appeared to have been blotted out, and then inserted again by his own hand, and afterwards blotted out a second time; which shewed it to be the action of a young man disturbed in his mind, following the dictates of his resentment, and repenting of it at the very instant. there were only the copies of these letters found: they were never sent to the persons they were designed for, the court of vienna having taken care to stop them; a convincing proof that the emperor never intended to break with the czar, or to assist the son to take up arms against his father. several witnesses were brought to confront the prince, and one of them, named afanassief, deposed, that he had formerly heard him speak these words,--'i shall mention something to the bishops, who will mention it again to the lower clergy, and they to the parish priests, and the crown will be placed on my head whether i will or not.' his own mistress, aphrosyne, was likewise brought to give evidence against him. the charge, however, was not well supported in all its parts; there did not appear to have been any regular plan formed, any chain of intrigues, or any thing like a conspiration or combination, nor the least shadow of preparation for a change in the government. the whole affair was that of a son, of a depraved and factious disposition, who thought himself injured by his father, who fled from him, and who wished for his death; but this son was heir to the greatest monarchy in our hemisphere, and in his situation and place he could not be guilty of trivial faults. after the accusations of his mistress, another witness was brought against him, in relation to the former czarina his mother, and the princess mary his sister. he was charged with having consulted the former in regard to his flight, and of having mentioned it to the princess mary. the bishop of rostow, who was the confidant of all three, having been seized, deposed, that the two princesses, who were then shut up in a convent, had expressed their wishes for a revolution in affairs that might restore them their liberty, and had even encouraged the prince, by their advice, to withdraw himself out of the kingdom. the more natural their resentment was, the more it was to be apprehended. we shall see, at the end of this chapter, what kind of a person the bishop of rostow was, and what had been his conduct. the czarowitz at first denied several facts of this nature which were alleged against him, and by this very behaviour subjected himself to the punishment of death, with which his father had threatened him in case he did not make an open and sincere confession. at last, however, he acknowledged several disrespectful expressions against his father, which were laid to his charge, but excused himself by saying, he had been hurried away by passion and drink. the czar himself drew up several new interrogations. the fourth ran as follows:-- 'when you found by beyer's letter that there was a mutiny among the troops in mecklenburg, you seemed pleased with it; you must certainly have had some reason for it; and i imagine you would have joined the rebels even during my life-time?' this was interrogating the prince on the subject of his private thoughts, which, though they might be revealed to a father, who may, by his advice, correct them, yet might they also with justice be concealed from a judge, who decides only upon acknowledged facts. the private sentiments of a man's heart have nothing to do in a criminal process, and the prince was at liberty either to deny them or disguise them, in such manner as he should think best for his own safety, as being under no obligation to lay open his heart, and yet we find him returning the following answer: 'if the rebels had called upon me during your life-time, i do verily believe i should have joined them, supposing i had found them sufficiently strong.' it is hardly conceivable that he could have made this reply of himself, and it would be full as extraordinary, at least according to the custom in our part of the world, to condemn a person for confessing that he might have thought in a certain manner in a conjuncture that never happened. to this strange confession of his private thoughts, which had till then been concealed in the bottom of his heart, they added proofs that could hardly be admitted as such in a court of justice in any other country. the prince, sinking under his misfortunes, and almost deprived of his senses, studied within himself, with all the ingenuity of fear, for whatever could most effectually serve for his destruction; and at length acknowledged, that in private confession to the archpriest james, he had wished his father dead; and that his confessor made answer, 'god will pardon you this wish: we all wish the same.' the canons of our church do not admit of proofs resulting from private confession, inasmuch as they are held inviolable secrets between god and the penitent: and both the greek and latin churches are agreed, that this intimate and secret correspondence between a sinner and the deity are beyond the cognizance of a temporal court of justice. but here the welfare of a kingdom and a king were concerned. the archpriest, being put to the torture, confirmed all that the prince had revealed; and this trial furnished the unprecedented instance of a confessor accused by his penitent, and that penitent by his own mistress. to this may be added another singular circumstance, namely, the archbishop of rezan having been involved in several accusations on account of having spoken too favourably of the young czarowitz in one of his sermons, at the time that his father's resentment first broke out against him; that weak prince declared, in his answer to one of the interrogations, that he had depended on the assistance of that prelate, at the same time that he was at the head of the ecclesiastical court, which the czar had consulted in relation to this criminal process against his son, as we shall see in the course of this chapter. there is another remark to be made in this extraordinary trial, which we find so very lamely related in the absurd history of peter the great, by the pretended bojar nestersuranoy, and that is the following: among other answers which the czarowitz alexis made to the first question put to him by his father, he acknowledges, that while he was at vienna, finding that he could not be admitted to see the emperor, he applied himself to count schonborn, the high chamberlain, who told him, the emperor would not abandon him, and that as soon as occasion should offer, by the death of his father, that he would assist him to recover the throne by force of arms. 'upon which,' adds the prince, 'i made him the following answer: "this is what i by no means desire: if the emperor will only grant me his protection for the present, i ask no more."' this deposition is plain, natural, and carries with it strong marks of the truth; for it would have been the height of madness to have asked the emperor for an armed force to dethrone his father, and no one would have ventured to have made such an absurd proposal, either to the emperor, prince eugene, or to the council. this deposition bears date in the month of february, and four months afterwards, namely, after the st of july, and towards the latter end of the proceedings against the czarowitz, that prince is made to say, in the last answers he delivered in writing:-- 'being unwilling to imitate my father in any thing, i endeavoured to secure myself the succession by any means whatever, _excepting such as were just_. i attempted to get it by a foreign assistance; and, had i succeeded, and that the emperor had fulfilled _what he had promised me_, to replace me on the throne of russia even by force of arms, i would have left nothing undone to have got possession of it. for instance, if the emperor had demanded of me, in return for his services, a body of my own troops to fight for him against any power whatever, that might be in arms against him, or a large sum of money to defray the charges of a war, i should have readily granted every thing he asked, and should have gratified his ministers and generals with magnificent presents. i would at my own expense have maintained the auxiliary troops he might have furnished to put me in possession of the crown; and, in a word, i should have thought nothing too much to have accomplished my ends.' this answer seems greatly strained, and appears as if the unhappy deponent was exerting his utmost efforts to appear more culpable than he really was; nay, he seems to have spoken absolutely contrary to truth in a capital point. he says the emperor had promised to procure him the crown by force of arms. this is absolutely false: schonborn had given him hopes that, after the death of his father, the emperor might assist him to recover his birth-right; but the emperor himself never made him any promise. and lastly, the matter in question was not if he should take arms against his father, but if he should succeed him after his death? by this last deposition he declares what he believes he should have done, had he been obliged to dispute his birth-right, which he had not formally renounced till after his journey to vienna and naples. here then we have a second deposition, not of any thing he had already done, and the actual commission of which, would have subjected him to the rigorous inquiry of the law, but of what he imagines he should have done had occasion offered, and which consequently is no subject of a juridical inquiry. thus does he twice together accuse himself of private thoughts that he might have entertained in a future time. the known world does not produce an instance of a man tried and condemned for vague and inconsequential notions that came into his head, and which he never communicated to any one; nor is there a court of justice in europe that will hear a man accuse himself of criminal thoughts; nay, we believe that they are not punished by god himself, unless accompanied by a fixed resolution to put them in practice. to these natural reflections it may be answered, that the czarowitz had given his father a just right to punish him, by having withheld the names of several of the accomplices of his flight. his pardon was promised him only on condition of making a full and open confession, which he did not till it was too late. lastly, after so public an affair, it was not in human nature that alexis should ever forgive a brother in favour of whom he had been disinherited; therefore, it was thought better to punish one guilty person, than to expose a whole nation to danger, and herein the rigour of justice and reasons of state acted in concert. we must not judge of the manners and laws of one nation by those of others. the czar was possessed of the fatal, but incontestable right of punishing his son with death, for the single crime of having withdrawn himself out of the kingdom against his consent; and he thus explains himself in his declaration addressed to the prelates and others, who composed the high courts of justice. 'though, according to all laws, civil and divine, and especially those of this empire, which grant an absolute jurisdiction to fathers over their children (even fathers in private life) we have a full and unlimited power to judge our son for his crimes according to our pleasure, without asking the advice of any person whatsoever: yet, as men are more liable to prejudice and partiality in their own affairs, than in those of others, and as the most eminent and expert physicians rely not on their judgment concerning themselves, but call in the advice and assistance of others; so we, under the fear of god, and an awful dread of offending him, in like manner make known our disease, and apply to you for a cure; being apprehensive of eternal death, if ignorant perhaps of the nature of our distemper, we should attempt to cure ourselves; and the rather as in a solemn appeal to almighty god, i have signed, sworn, and confirmed a promise of pardon to my son, in case he should declare to me the truth. 'and though he has violated this promise, by concealing the most important circumstances of his rebellious design against us; yet that we may not in any thing swerve from our obligations, we pray you to consider this affair with seriousness and attention, and report what punishment he deserves without favour or partiality either to him or me; for should you apprehend that he deserves but a slight punishment, it will be disagreeable to me. i swear to you by the great god and his judgments, that you have nothing to fear on this head. 'neither let the reflection of your being to pass sentence on the son of your prince have any influence on you, but administer justice without respect of persons, and destroy not your own souls and mine also, by doing any thing to injure our country, or upbraid our consciences in the great and terrible day of judgment.' the czar afterwards addressed himself to the clergy,[ ] by another declaration to the same purpose; so that every thing was transacted in the most authentic manner, and peter's behaviour through the whole of this affair was so open and undisguised, as shewed him to be fully satisfied of the justice of his cause. on the first of july the clergy delivered their opinion in writing. in fact, it was their opinion only, and not a judgment, which the czar required of them. the beginning is deserving the attention of all europe. 'this affair (say the prelates and the rest of the clergy) does in no wise fall within the verge of the ecclesiastical court, nor is the absolute power invested in the sovereign of the russian empire subject to the cognizance of his people; but he has an unlimited power of acting herein as to him shall seem best, without any inferior having a right to intermeddle therein.' after their preamble they proceed to cite several texts of scripture, particularly leviticus, wherein it is said, 'cursed be he that curseth his father or mother;' and the gospel of st. matthew, which repeats this severe denunciation. and they concluded, after several other quotations,[ ] with these remarkable words: 'if his majesty is inclinable to punish the offender according to his deeds and the measure of his crimes, he has before him the examples in the old testament, if on the other hand, he is inclined to shew mercy, he has a pattern in our lord jesus christ, who receives the prodigal son, when returning with a contrite heart, who set free the woman taken in adultery, whom the law sentenced to be stoned to death, and who prefers mercy to burnt-offerings. he has likewise the example of david, who spared his son absalom, who had rebelled against and persecuted him, saying to his captains, when going forth to the fight, "spare my son absalom." the father was here inclinable to mercy, but divine justice suffered not the offender to go unpunished. 'the heart of the czar is in the hands of god; let him take that side to which it shall please the almighty to direct him.' this opinion was signed by eight archbishops and bishops, four archpriests, and two professors of divinity; and, as we have already observed, the metropolitan archbishop of rezan, the same with whom the prince had held a correspondence, was the first who signed. as soon as the clergy had signed this opinion, they presented it to the czar. it is easy to perceive that this body was desirous of inclining his mind to clemency; and nothing can be more beautiful than the contrast between the mercy of jesus christ, and the rigour of the jewish law, placed before the eyes of a father, who was the prosecutor of his own son. the same day the czarowitz was again examined for the last time, and signed his final confession in writing, wherein he acknowledges himself 'to have been a bigot in his youthful days, to have frequented the company of priests and monks, to have drank with them, and to have imbibed from their conversations the first impressions of dislike to the duties of his station, and even to the person of his father.' if he made this confession of his own accord, it shews that he must have been ignorant of the mild advice the body of clergy, whom he thus accuses, had lately given his father; and it is a still stronger proof, how great a change the czar had wrought in the manners of the clergy of his time, who, from a state of the most deplorable ignorance, were in so short a time become capable of drawing up a writing, which for its wisdom and eloquence might have been owned, without a blush, by the most illustrious fathers of the church. it is in this last confession that the czarowitz made that declaration on which we have already commented, viz. that he endeavoured to secure to himself the succession by any means whatever, except such as were just. one would imagine, by this last confession, that the prince was apprehensive he had not rendered himself sufficiently criminal in the eyes of his judges, by his former self-accusations, and that, by giving himself the character of a dissembler and a bad man, and supposing how he might have acted had he been the master, he was carefully studying how to justify the fatal sentence which was about to be pronounced against him, and which was done on the th of july. this sentence will be found, at length, at the end of this volume; therefore, we shall only observe in this place that it begins, like the opinion of the clergy, by declaring, that 'it belongs not to subjects to take cognizance of such an affair, which depends solely on the absolute will of the sovereign, whose authority is derived from god alone;' and then, after having set forth the several articles of the charge brought against the prince, the judges express themselves thus: 'what shall we think of a rebellious design, almost unparalleled in history, joined to that of a horrid parricide against him, who was his father in a double capacity?' probably these words have been wrong translated from the trial printed by order of the czar; for certainly there have been instances in history of much greater rebellions; and no part of the proceedings against the czarowitz discover any design in him of killing his father. perhaps, by the word parricide, is understood the deposition made by the prince, that one day he declared at confession, that he had wished for the death of his father. but, how can a private declaration of a secret thought, under the seal of confession, be a double parricide? be this as it may, the czarowitz was unanimously condemned to die, but no mention was made in the sentence of the manner in which he was to suffer. of one hundred and forty-four judges, there was not one who thought of a lesser punishment than death. whereas, an english tract, which made a great noise at that time, observes, that if such a cause had been brought before an english parliament, there would not have been one judge out of one hundred and forty-four, that would have inflicted even a penalty. there cannot be a stronger proof of the difference of times and places. the consul manlius would have been condemned by the laws of england to lose his own life, for having put his son to death; whereas he was admired and extolled for that action by the rigid romans: but the same laws would not punish a prince of wales for leaving the kingdom, who, as a peer of the realm, has a right to go and come when he pleases.[ ] a criminal design, not perpetrated, is not punishable by the laws in england[ ] or france, but it is in russia. a continued formal and repeated disobedience of commands would, amongst us, be considered only an error in conduct, which ought to be suppressed; but, in russia, it was judged a capital crime in the heir of a great empire, whose ruin might have been the consequence of that disobedience. lastly, the czarowitz was culpable towards the whole nation, by his design of throwing it back into that state of darkness and ignorance, from which his father had so lately delivered it. such was the acknowledged power of the czar, that he might put his son to death for disobedience to him, without consulting any one; nevertheless, he submitted the affair to the judgment of the representatives of the nation, so that it was in fact the nation itself who passed sentence on the prince; and peter was so well satisfied with the equity of his own conduct, that he voluntarily submitted it to the judgment of every other nation, by causing the whole proceedings to be printed and translated into several languages. the law of history would not permit us to disguise or palliate aught in the relation of this tragic event. all europe was divided in its sentiments, whether most to pity a young prince, prosecuted by his own father, and condemned to lose his life, by those who were one day to have been his subjects; or the father, who thought himself under a necessity to sacrifice his own son to the welfare of his nation. it was asserted in several books, published on this subject, that the czar sent to spain for a copy of the proceedings against don carlos, who had been condemned to death by his father, king philip ii. but this is false, inasmuch as don carlos was never brought to his trial: the conduct of peter i. was totally different from that of philip. the spanish monarch never made known to the world the reasons for which he had confined his son, nor in what manner that prince died. he wrote letters on this occasion to the pope and the empress, which were absolutely contradictory to each other. william prince of orange accused philip publicly of having sacrificed his son and his wife to his jealousy, and to have behaved rather like a jealous and cruel husband, and an unnatural and murderous father, than a severe and upright judge. philip suffered this accusation against him to pass unanswered: peter, on the contrary, did nothing but in the eye of the world; he openly declared, that he preferred his people to his own son, submitted his cause to the judgment of the principal persons of his kingdom, and made the whole world the judge of their proceedings and his own. there was another extraordinary circumstance attending this unhappy affair, which was, that the empress catherine, who was hated by the czarowitz, and whom he had publicly threatened with the worst of treatment, whenever he should mount the throne, was not in any way accessary to his misfortunes; and was neither accused, nor even suspected by any foreign minister residing at the court of russia, of having taken the least step against a son-in-law, from whom she had so much to fear. it is true, indeed, that no one pretends to say she interceded with the czar for his pardon: but all the accounts of these times, and especially those of the count de bassewitz, agree, that she was greatly affected with his misfortunes. i have now before me the memoirs of a public minister, in which i find the following words: 'i was present when the czar told the duke of holstein, that the czarina catherine, had begged of him to prevent the sentence passed upon the czarowitz, being publicly read to that prince. 'content yourself,' said she, 'with obliging him to turn monk; for this public and formal condemnation of your son will reflect an odium on your grandson.' the czar, however, would not hearken to the intercession of his spouse; he thought there was a necessity to have the sentence publicly read to the prince himself, in order that he might have no pretence left to dispute this solemn act, in which he himself acquiesced, and that being dead in law, he could never after claim a right to the crown. nevertheless, if, after the death of peter, a formidable party had arose in favour of alexis, would his being dead in law have prevented him from ascending the throne? the prince then had his sentence read to him: and the memoirs i have just mentioned observe, that he fell into a fit on hearing these words: 'the laws divine and ecclesiastical, civil and military, condemn to death, without mercy, those whose attempts against their father and their sovereign have been fully proved.' these fits it is said, turned to an apoplexy, and it was with great difficulty he was recovered at that time. afterwards, when he came a little to himself, and in the dreadful interval, between life and death, he sent for his father to come to him: the czar accordingly went, and both father and son burst into a flood of tears. the unhappy culprit asked his offended parent's forgiveness, which he gave him publicly: then, being in the agonies of death, extreme unction was administered to him in the most solemn manner, and soon after he expired in the presence of the whole court, the day after the fatal sentence had been pronounced upon him. his body was immediately carried to the cathedral, where it lay in state, exposed to public view for four days, after which it was interred in the church of the citadel, by the side of his late princess; the czar and czarina assisting at the funeral. and here i think myself indispensably obliged to imitate, in some measure, the conduct of the czar; that is to say, to submit to the judgment of the public, the several facts which i have related with the most scrupulous exactness, and not only the facts themselves, but likewise the various reports which were propagated in relation to them, by authors of the first credit. lamberti, the most impartial of any writer on this subject and at the same time the most exact, and who has confined himself to the simple narrative of the original and authentic pieces, relating to the affairs of europe, seems in this matter to have departed from that impartiality and discernment for which he is so remarkable; for he thus expresses himself. 'the czarina, ever anxious for the fortune of her own son, did not suffer the czar to rest till she had obliged him to commence the proceedings against the czarowitz, and to prosecute that unhappy prince to death: and, what is still more extraordinary, the czar, after having given him the knout (which is a kind of torture) with his own hand, was himself his executioner, by cutting off his head, which was afterwards so artfully joined to the body, that the separation could not be perceived, when it was exposed to public view. some little time afterwards, the czarina's son died, to the inexpressible regret of her and the czar. this latter, who had beheaded his own son, coming now to reflect, that he had no successor, grew exceedingly ill-tempered. much about that time also, he was informed, that his spouse, the czarina, was engaged in a secret and criminal correspondence with prince menzikoff. this, joined to the reflection, that she had been the cause of his putting to death with his own hand his eldest son, made him conceive a design to strip her of the imperial honours, and shut her up in a convent, in the same manner as he had done his first wife, who is still living there. it was a custom with the czar to keep a kind of diary of his private thoughts in his pocket book, and he had accordingly entered therein a memorandum of this his intention. the czarina having found means to gain over to her interest all the pages of the czar's bed-chamber, one of them finding his pocket-book, which he had carelessly left on the table, brought it to catherine, who upon reading this memorandum, immediately sent for prince menzikoff, and communicated it to him, and, in a day or two afterwards, the czar was seized with a violent distemper, of which he died. this distemper was attributed to poison, on account of its being so sudden and violent, that it could not be supposed to proceed from a natural cause, and that the horrible act of poisoning was but too frequently used in russia.' these accusations, thus handed down by lamberti, were soon spread throughout europe; and, as there still exist a great number of pieces, both in print and manuscript, which may give a sanction to the belief of this fact to the latest posterity, i think it is my duty to mention, in this place, what is come to my knowledge from unexceptionable authority. in the first place, then, i take it upon me to declare, that the person who furnished lamberti with this strange anecdote, was in fact a native of russia, but of a foreign extraction, and who himself did not reside in that country, at the time this event happened, having left it several years before. i was formerly acquainted with him; he had been in company with lamberti, at the little town of nyon,[ ] whither that writer had retired, and where i myself have often been. this very man declared to me, that he had never told this story to lamberti, but in the light of a report, which had been handed about at that time. this example may suffice to shew, how easy it was in former times, before the art of printing was found out, for one man to destroy the reputation of another, in the minds of whole nations, by reason that manuscript histories were in a few hands only, and not exposed to general examination and censure, or of the observations of contemporaries, as they now are. a single line in tacitus or sallust, nay, even in the authors of the most fabulous legends was enough to render a great prince odious to the half of mankind, and to perpetuate his name with infamy to successive generations. how was it possible that the czar could have beheaded his son with his own hand, when extreme unction was administered to the latter in the presence of the whole court? was he dead when the sacred oil was poured upon his head? when or how could this dissevered head have been rejoined to its trunk? it is notorious, that the prince was not left alone a single moment, from the first reading of his sentence to him to the instant of his death. besides, this story of the czar's having had recourse to the sword, acquits him at least of having made use of poison. i will allow, that it is somewhat uncommon, that a young man in the vigour of his days should die of a sudden fright, occasioned by hearing the sentence of his own death read to him, and especially when it was a sentence that he expected; but, after all, physicians will tell us that this is not a thing impossible. if the czar dispatched his son by poison, as so many authors would persuade us, he by that means deprived himself of every advantage he might expect from this fatal process, in convincing all europe that he had a right to punish every delinquent. he rendered all the reasons for pronouncing the condemnation of the czarowitz suspected; and, in fact, accused himself. if he was desirous of the death of his son, he was in possession of full power to have caused the sentence to be put in execution: would a man of any prudence then, would a sovereign, on whom the eyes of all his neighbours were fixed, have taken the base and dastardly method of poisoning the person, over whose devoted head he himself already held the sword of justice? lastly, would he have suffered his memory to have been transmitted to posterity as an assassin and a poisoner, when he could so easily have assumed the character of an upright though severe judge? it appears then, from all that has been delivered on this subject in the preceding pages, that peter was more the king than the parent; and that he sacrificed his own son to the sentiments of the father and lawgiver of his country, and to the interest of his people, who, without this wholesome severity, were on the verge of relapsing again into that state from which he had taken them. it is evident that he did not sacrifice this son to the ambition of a step-mother, or to the son he had by her, since he had often threatened the czarowitz to disinherit him, before catherine brought him that other son, whose infirm infancy gave signs of a speedy death, which actually happened in a very short time afterwards. had peter taken this important step merely to please his wife, he must have been a fool, a madman, or a coward; neither of which, most certainly, could be laid to his charge. but he foresaw what would be the fate of his establishments, and of his new-born nation, if he had such a successor as would not adopt his views. the event has verified this foresight: the russian empire is become famous and respectable throughout europe, from which it was before entirely separated; whereas, had the czarowitz succeeded to the throne, every thing would have been destroyed. in fine, when this catastrophe comes to be seriously considered, the compassionate heart shudders, and the rigid applauds. this great and terrible event is still fresh in the memories of mankind; and it is frequently spoken of as a matter of so much surprise, that it is absolutely necessary to examine what contemporary writers have said of it. one of these hireling scribblers, who has taken on him the title of historian, speaks thus of it in a work which he has dedicated to count bruhl, prime minister to his polish majesty, whose name indeed may seem to give some weight to what he advances. 'russia was convinced that the czarowitz owed his death to poison, which had been given him by his mother-in-law.' but this accusation is overturned by the declaration which the czar made to the duke of holstein, that the empress catherine had advised him to confine his son in a monastery. with regard to the poison which the empress is said to have given afterwards to her husband, that story is sufficiently destroyed by the simple relation of the affair of the page and pocket-book. what man would think of making such a memorandum as this, 'i must remember to confine my wife in a convent?' is this a circumstance of so trivial a nature, that it must be set down lest it should be forgotten? if catherine had poisoned her son-in-law and her husband she would have committed crimes; whereas, so far from being suspected of cruelty, she had a remarkable character for lenity and sweetness of temper. it may now be proper to shew what was the first cause of the behaviour of the czarowitz, of his flight, and of his death, and that of his accomplices, who fell by the hands of the executioner. it was owing then to mistaken notions in religion, and to a superstitious fondness for priests and monks. that this was the real source from whence all his misfortunes were derived, is sufficiently apparent from his own confession, which we have already set before the reader, and in particular, by that expression of the czar in his letter to his unhappy son, 'a corrupt priesthood will be able to turn you at pleasure.' the following is, almost word for word, the manner in which a certain ambassador to the court of russia explains these words.--several ecclesiastics, says he, fond of the ancient barbarous customs, and regretting the authority they had lost by the nation having become more civilized, wished earnestly to see prince alexis on the throne, from whose known disposition they expected a return of those days of ignorance and superstition which were so dear to them. in the number of these was dozitheus, bishop of rostow. this prelate feigned a revelation from st. demetrius, and that the saint had appeared to him, and had assured him as from god himself, that the czar would not live above three months; that the empress eudocia, who was then confined in the convent of susdal (and had taken the veil under the name of sister helena), and the princess mary the czar's sister, should ascend the throne and reign jointly with prince alexis. eudocia and the princess mary were weak enough to credit this imposture, and were even so persuaded of the truth of this prediction, that the former quitted her habit and the convent, and throwing aside the name of sister helena, reassumed the imperial title and the ancient dress of the czarina's, and caused the name of her rival catherine to be struck out of the form of prayer. and when the lady abbess of the convent opposed these proceedings, eudocia answered her haughtily--that as peter had punished the strelitzes who had insulted his mother, in like manner would prince alexis punish those who had offered an indignity to his. she caused the abbess to be confined to her apartment. an officer named stephen glebo was introduced into the convent; this man eudocia made use of as the instrument of her designs, having previously won him over to her interest by heaping favours on him. glebo caused dozitheus's prediction to be spread over the little town of susdal, and the neighbourhood thereof. but the three months being nearly expired, eudocia reproached the bishop with the czar's being still alive, 'my father's sins,' answered dozitheus, 'have been the cause of this; he is still in purgatory, and has acquainted me therewith.' upon this eudocia caused a thousand masses for the dead to be said, dozitheus assuring her that this would not fail of having the desired effect: but in about a month afterwards, he came to her and told, that his father's head was already out of purgatory; in a month afterwards he was freed as far as his waist, so that then he only stuck in purgatory by his feet; but as soon as they should be set free, which was the most difficult part of the business, the czar would infallibly die. the princess mary, persuaded by dozitheus, gave herself up to him, on condition that his father should be immediately released from purgatory, and the prediction accomplished, and glebo continued his usual correspondence with the old czarina. it was chiefly on the faith of these predictions that the czarowitz quitted the kingdom, and retired into a foreign country, to wait for the death of his father. however the whole scheme was soon discovered; dozitheus and glebo were seized; the letters of the princess mary to dozitheus, and those of sister helena to glebo, were read in the open senate. in consequence of which, the princess mary was shut up in the fortress of schusselbourg, and the old czarina removed to another convent, where she was kept a close prisoner. dozitheus and glebo, together with the other accomplices of these idle and superstitious intrigues, were put to the torture, as were likewise the confidants of the czarowitz's flight. his confessor, his preceptor, and the steward of his household, all died by the hands of the executioner. such then was the dear and fatal price at which peter the great purchased the happiness of his people, and such were the numberless obstacles he had to surmount in the midst of a long and dangerous war without doors, and an unnatural rebellion at home. he saw one half of his family plotting against him, the majority of the priesthood obstinately bent to frustrate his designs, and almost the whole nation for a long time opposing its own felicity, of which as yet it was not become sensible. he had prejudices to overcome, and discontents to sooth. in a word, there wanted a new generation formed by his care, who would at length entertain the proper ideas of happiness and glory, which their fathers were not able to comprehend or support. chap. xxx. works and establishments in , and the following years. throughout the whole of the foregoing dreadful catastrophe, it appeared clearly, that peter had acted only as the father of his country, and that he considered his people as his family. the punishments he had been obliged to inflict on such of them, who had endeavoured to obstruct or impede the happiness of the rest, were necessary, though melancholy sacrifices, made to the general good. .] this year, which was the epoch of the disinheriting and death of his eldest son, was also that of the greatest advantage he procured to his subjects, by establishing a general police hitherto unknown; by the introduction or improvement of manufactures and works of every kind, by opening new branches of trade, which now began to flourish, and by the construction of canals, which joined rivers, seas, and people, that nature had separated from each other. we have here none of those striking events which charm common readers; none of those court-intrigues which are the food of scandal and malice, nor of those great revolutions which amaze the generality of mankind; but we behold the real springs of public happiness, which the philosophic eye delights to contemplate. he now appointed a lieutenant-general of police over the whole empire, who was to hold his court at petersburg, and from thence preserve order from one end of the kingdom to the other. extravagance in dress, and the still more dangerous extravagance of gaming, were prohibited under severe penalties; schools for teaching arithmetic, which had been first set on foot in , were now established in many towns in russia. the hospitals, which had been began, were now finished, endowed, and filled with proper objects. to these we may add the several useful establishments which had been projected some time before, and which were completed a few years afterwards. the great towns were now cleared of those innumerable swarms of beggars, who will not follow any other occupation but that of importuning those who are more industrious than themselves, and who lead a wretched and shameful life at the expense of others: an abuse too much overlooked in other nations. the rich were obliged to build regular and handsome houses in petersburg, agreeable to their circumstances, and, by a master-stroke of police, the several materials were brought carriage free to the city, by the barks and waggons which returned empty from the neighbouring provinces. weights and measures were likewise fixed upon an uniform plan, in the same manner as the laws. this uniformity, so much, but in vain desired, in states that have for many ages been civilized, was established in russia without the least difficulty or murmuring; and yet we fancy that this salutary regulation is impracticable amongst us. the prices of the necessaries of life were also fixed. the city of petersburg was well lighted with lamps during the night; a convenience which was first introduced in paris by louis xiv., and to which rome is still a stranger. pumps were erected for supplying water in cases of fire; the streets were well paved, and rails put up for the security of foot passengers: in a word, every thing was provided that could minister to safety, decency, and good order, and to the quicker dispatch and convenience of the inland trade of the country. several privileges were granted to foreigners, and proper laws enacted to prevent the abuse of those privileges. in consequence of these useful and salutary regulations, petersburg and moscow put on a new face. the iron and steel manufactories received additional improvements, especially those which the czar had founded at about ten miles distance from petersburg, of which he himself was the first superintendant, and wherein no less than a thousand workmen were employed immediately under his eye. he went in person to give directions to those who farmed the corn-mills, powder-mills, and mills for sawing timber, and to the managers of the manufactories for cordage and sail-cloth, to the brick-makers, slaters, and the cloth-weavers. numbers of workmen in every branch came from france to settle under him; these were the fruits he reaped from his travels. he established a board of trade, which was composed of one half natives, and the other half foreigners, in order that justice might be equally distributed to all artists and workmen. a frenchman settled a manufactory for making fine looking-glass at petersburg, with the assistance of prince menzikoff. another set up a loom for working curious tapestry, after the manner of the gobelins; and this manufactory still meets with great encouragement. a third succeeded in making of gold and silver thread, and the czar ordered that no more than four thousand marks of gold or silver should be expended in these works in the space of a year; by this means to prevent the too great consumption of bullion in the kingdom. he gave thirty thousand rubles, that is, about one hundred and fifty thousand french livres,[ ] together with all the materials and instruments necessary for making the several kinds of woollen stuffs. by this useful bounty he was enabled to clothe all his troops with the cloth made in his own country; whereas, before that time, it was purchased from berlin and other foreign kingdoms. they made as fine linen cloth in moscow as in holland; and at his death there were in that capital and at jaroslaw, no less than fourteen linen and hempen manufactories. it could certainly never be imagined, at the time that silk sold in europe for its weight in gold, that one day there would arise on the banks of the lake ladoga, in the midst of a frozen region, and among unfrequented marshes, a magnificent and opulent city, where the silks of persia should be manufactured in as great perfection as at ispahan. peter, however, undertook this great phenomenon in commerce, and succeeded in the attempt. the working of iron mines was carried to their highest degree of perfection; several other mines of gold and silver were discovered, and the council of mines was appointed to examine and determine, whether the working of these would bring in a profit adequate to the expense. but, to make so many different arts and manufactures flourish, and to establish so many various undertakings, it was not alone sufficient to grant patents, or to appoint inspectors: it was necessary that our great founder should behold all these pass under his own eye in their beginnings, and work at them with his own hands, in the same manner as we have already seen him working at the construction, the rigging, and the sailing of a ship. when canals were to be dug in marshy and almost impassable grounds, he was frequently seen at the head of the workmen digging the earth, and carrying it away himself. in this same year ( ) he formed the plan of the canal and sluices of ladoga: this was intended to make a communication between the neva and another navigable river, in order for the more easy conveyance of merchandize to petersburg, without taking the great circuit of the lake ladoga, which, on account of the storms that prevailed on the coast, was frequently impassable for barks or small vessels. peter levelled the ground himself, and they still preserve the tools which he used in digging up and carrying off the earth. the whole court followed the example of their sovereign, and persisted in a work, which, at the same time, they looked upon as impracticable; and it was finished after his death: for not one of his projects, which had been found possible to be effected, was abandoned. the great canal of cronstadt, which is easily drained of its waters, and wherein they careen and clean the men of war, was also began at the same time that he was engaged in the proceedings against his son. in this year also he built the new city of ladoga. a short time afterwards, he made the canal which joins the caspian sea to the gulf of finland and to the ocean. the boats, after sailing up the wolga, came first to the communication of two rivers, which he joined for that purpose; from thence, by another canal, they enter into the lake of ilmen, and then fall into the canal of ladoga, from whence goods and merchandizes may be conveyed by sea to all parts of the world. in the midst of these labours, which all passed under his inspection, he carried his views from kamschatka to the most eastern limits of his empire, and caused two forts to be built in these regions, which were so long unknown to the rest of the world. in the meantime, a body of engineers, who were draughted from the marine academy established in , were sent to make the tour of the empire, in order to form exact charts thereof, and lay before mankind the immense extent of country which he had civilized and enriched. chap. xxxi. of the trade of russia. the russian trade without doors was in a manner annihilated before the reign of peter. he restored it anew, after his accession to the throne. it is notorious, that the current of trade has undergone several changes in the world. the south part of russia was before the time of tamerlane, the staple of greece, and even of the indies; and the genoese were the principal factors. the tanais and the boristhenes were loaded with the productions of asia: but when tamerlane, towards the end of the fourteenth century, had conquered the taurican chersonesus, afterwards called crimea or crim tartary, and when the turks became masters of azoph, this great branch of trade was totally destroyed. peter formed the design of reviving it, by getting possession of azoph; but the unfortunate campaign of pruth wrested this city out of his hands, and with it all his views on the black sea: nevertheless he had it still in his power to open as extensive a road to commerce through the caspian sea. the english who, in the end of the fifteenth, and beginning of the sixteenth century, had opened a trade to archangel, had endeavoured to do the same likewise by the caspian sea, but failed in all their attempts for this purpose. it has been already observed, that the father of peter the great caused a ship to be built in holland, to trade from astracan to the coast of persia. this vessel was burnt by the rebel stenkorazin, which put an immediate stop to any views of trading on a fair footing with the persians. the armenians, who are the factors of that part of asia, were received by peter the great into astracan; every thing was obliged to pass through their hands, and they reaped all the advantage of that trade; as is the case with the indian traders, and the banians, and with the turks, as well as several nations in christendom, and the jews: for those who have only one way of living, are generally very expert in that art on which they depend for a support; and others pay a voluntary tribute to that knowledge in which they know themselves deficient. peter had already found a remedy for this inconvenience, in the treaty which he made with the sophi of persia, by which all the silk, which was not used for the manufactories in that kingdom, was to be delivered to the armenians of astracan, and by them to be transported into russia. the troubles which arose in persia soon overturned this arrangement; and in the course of this history, we shall see how the sha, or emperor of persia, hussein, when persecuted by the rebels, implored the assistance of peter; and how that monarch, after having supported a difficult war against the turks and the swedes, entered persia, and subjected three of its provinces. but to return to the article of trade. _of the trade with china._ the undertaking of establishing a trade with china seemed to promise the greatest advantages. two vast empires, bordering on each other, and each reciprocally possessing what the other stood in need of, seemed to be both under the happy necessity of opening a useful correspondence, especially after the treaty of peace, so solemnly ratified between these two empires in the year , according to our way of reckoning. the first foundation of this trade had been laid in the year . there was at that time two companies of siberian and bukarian families settled in siberia. their caravans travelled through the calmuck plains; after they had crossed the deserts of chinese tartary, and made a considerable profit by their trade; but the troubles which happened in the country of the calmucks, and the disputes between the russians and the chinese, in regard to the frontiers, put a stop to this commerce. after the peace of , it was natural for the two great nations to fix on some neutral place, whither all the goods should be carried. the siberians, like all other nations, stood more in need of the chinese, than these latter did of them; accordingly permission was asked of the emperor of china, to send caravans to pekin, which was readily granted. this happened in the beginning of the present century. it is worthy of observation, that the emperor camhi had granted permission for a russian church in the suburbs of pekin; which church was to be served by siberian priests, the whole at the emperor's own expense, who was so indulgent to cause this church to be built for the accommodation of several families of eastern siberia; some of whom had been prisoners before the peace of , and the others were adventurers from their own country, who would not return back again after the peace of niptchou. the agreeable climate of pekin, the obliging manners of the chinese, and the ease with which they found a handsome living, determined them to spend the rest of their days in china. the small greek church could not become dangerous to the peace of the empire, as those of the jesuits have been to that of other nations; and moreover, the emperor camhi was a favourer of liberty of conscience. toleration has, in all times, been the established custom in asia, as it was in former times all over the world, till the reign of the roman emperor theodosius i. the russian families, thus established in china, having intermarried with the natives, have since quitted the christian religion, but their church still subsists. it was stipulated, that this church should be for the use of those who come with the siberian caravans, to bring furs and other commodities wanted at pekin. the voyage out and home, and the stay in the country, generally took up three years. prince gagarin, governor of siberia, was twenty years at the head of this trade. the caravans were sometimes very numerous; and it was difficult to keep the common people, who made the greatest number, within proper bounds. they passed through the territories of a laman priest, who is a kind of tartarian sovereign, resides on the sea-coast of orkon, and has the title of koutoukas: he is the vicar of the grand lama, but has rendered himself independent, by making some change in the religion of the country, where the indian tenet of metempsychosis is the prevailing opinion. we cannot find a more apt comparison for this priest than in the bishops of lubeck and osnaburg, who have shaken off the dominion of the church of rome. the caravans, in their march, sometimes committed depredations on the territories of this tartarian prelate, as they did also on those of the chinese. this irregular conduct proved an impediment to the trade of those parts; for the chinese threatened to shut the entrance into their empire against the russians, unless a stop was put to these disorders. the trade with china was at that time very advantageous to the russians, who brought from thence gold, silver, and precious stones, in return for their merchandize. the largest ruby in the world was brought out of china to prince gagarin, who sent it to prince menzikoff; and it is now one of the ornaments of the imperial crown. the exactions put in practice by prince gagarin were of great prejudice to that trade, which had brought him so much riches; and, at length, they ended in his own destruction; for he was accused before the court of justice, established by the czar, and sentenced to lose his head, a year after the condemnation of the czarowitz, and the execution of all those who had been his accomplices. about the same time, the emperor camhi, perceiving his health to decay, and knowing, by experience, that the european mathematicians were much more learned in their art than those of his own nation, thought that the european physicians must also have more knowledge than those of pekin, and therefore sent a message to the czar, by some ambassadors who were returning from china to petersburg, requesting him to send him one of his physicians. there happened at that time to be an english surgeon at petersburg, who offered to undertake the journey in that character; and accordingly set out in company with a new ambassador, and one laurence lange, who has left a description of that journey. this embassy was received, and all the expense of it defrayed with great pomp, by camhi. the surgeon, at his arrival, found the emperor in perfect health, and gained the reputation of a most skilful physician. the caravans who followed this embassy made prodigious profits; but fresh excesses having been committed by this very caravan, the chinese were so offended thereat, that they sent back lange, who was at that time resident from the czar at the chinese court, and with him all the russian merchants established there. the emperor camhi dying, his son yontchin, who had as great a share of wisdom, and more firmness than his father, and who drove the jesuits out of his empire, as the czar had done from russia in , concluded a treaty with peter, by which the russian caravans were no more to trade on the frontiers of the two empires. there are only certain factors, dispatched in the name of the emperor or empress of russia, and these have liberty to enter pekin, where they are lodged in a vast house, which the emperor of china formerly assigned for the reception of the envoys from corea: but it is a considerable time since either caravans or factors have been sent from russia thither so that the trade is now in a declining way, but may possibly soon be revived. _of the trade of_ petersburg, _and the other ports of the_ russian empire. there were at this time above two hundred foreign vessels traded to the new capital, in the space of a year. this trade has continued increasing, and has frequently brought in five millions (french money) to the crown. this was greatly more than the interest of the money which this establishment had cost. this trade, however, greatly diminished that of archangel, and was precisely what the founder desired; for the port of archangel is too dangerous, and at too great distance from other ports: besides that, a trade which is carried on immediately under the eye of an assiduous sovereign, is always the most advantageous. that of livonia continued still on the same footing. the trade of russia in general has proved very successful; its ports have received from one thousand to twelve hundred vessels in a year, and peter discovered the happy expedient of joining utility to glory. chap. xxxii. of the laws. it is well known, that good laws are scarce, and that the due execution of them is still more so. the greater the extent of any state, and the variety of people of which it is composed, the more difficult it is to unite them by the same body of laws. the father of czar peter formed a digest or code under the title of _oulogenia_, which was actually printed, but it by no means answered the end intended. peter, in the course of his travels, had collected materials for repairing this great structure, which was falling to decay in many of its parts. he gathered many useful hints from the governments of denmark, sweden, england, germany, and france, selecting from each of these different nations what he thought most suitable to his own. there was a court of boyards or great men, who determined all matters _en dernier ressort_. rank and birth alone gave a seat in this assembly; but the czar thought that knowledge was likewise requisite, and therefore this court was dissolved. he then instituted a procurator-general, assisted by four assistors, in each of the governments of the empire. these were to overlook the conduct of the judges, whose decrees were subject to an appeal to the senate which he established. each of those judges was furnished with a copy of the _oulogenia_, with additions and necessary alterations, until a complete body of laws could be formed. it was forbid to these judges to receive any fees, which, however moderate, are always an abusive tax on the fortunes and properties of those concerned in suits of law. the czar also took care that the expenses of the court were moderate, and the decisions speedy. the judges and their clerks had salaries appointed them out of the public treasury, and were not suffered to purchase their offices. it was in the year , at the very time that he was engaged in the process against his son, that he made the chief part of these regulations. the greatest part of the laws he enacted were borrowed from those of the swedes, and he made no difficulty to admit to places in his courts of judicature such swedish prisoners who were well versed in the laws of their own country, and who, having learnt the russian language, were willing to continue in that kingdom. the governor of each province and his assistors had the cognizance of private causes within such government; from them there was an appeal to the senate; and if any one, after having been condemned by the senate, appealed to the czar himself, and such appeal was found unjust, he was punished with death: but to mitigate the rigour of this law, the czar created a master of the requests, who received the petitions of those who had affairs depending in the senate, or in the inferior courts, concerning which the laws then in force were not sufficiently explanatory. at length, in , he completed his new code, prohibiting all the judges, under pain of death, to depart therefrom in their decrees, or to set up their own private opinions in place of the general statutes. this dreadful ordonnance was publicly fixed up, and still remains in all the courts of judicature of the empire. he erected every thing anew; there was not, even to the common affairs of society, aught but what was his work. he regulated the degrees between man and man, according to their posts and employments, from the admiral and the field-marshal to the ensign, without any regard to birth. having always in his own mind, and willing to imprint it on those of his subjects, that services are preferable to pedigree, a certain rank was likewise fixed for the women; and she who took a seat in a public assembly, that did not properly belong to her, was obliged to pay a fine. by a still more useful regulation, every private soldier, on being made an officer, instantly became a gentleman; and a nobleman, if his character had been impeached in a court of justice, was degraded to a plebeian. after the settling of these several laws and regulations, it happened that the increase of towns, wealth, and population in the empire, new undertakings, and the creation of new employs, necessarily introduced a multitude of new affairs and unforeseen cases, which were all consequences of that success which attended the czar in the general reformation of his dominions. the empress elizabeth completed the body of laws which her father had begun, in which she gave the most lively proofs of that mildness and clemency for which she was so justly famed. chap. xxxiii. of religion. at this time peter laboured more than ever to reform the clergy. he had abolished the patriarchal office, and by this act of authority had alienated the minds of the ecclesiastics. he was determined that the imperial power should be free and absolute, and that of the church respected, but submissive. his design was, to establish a council of religion, which should always subsist, but dependent on the sovereign, and that it should give no laws to the church, but such as should be approved of by the head of the state, of which the church was a part. he was assisted in this undertaking by the archbishop of novogorod, named theophanes procop, or procopowitz, i.e. son of procop. this prelate was a person of great learning and sagacity: his travels through the different parts of europe had afforded him opportunities of remarks on the several abuses which reign amongst them. the czar, who had himself been a witness of the same, had this great advantage in forming all his regulations, that he was possessed of an unlimited power to choose what was useful, and reject what was dangerous. he laboured, in concert with the archbishop, in the years and , to effect his design. he established a perpetual synod, to be composed of twelve members, partly bishops, and partly archpriests, all to be chosen by the sovereign. this college was afterwards augmented to fourteen. the motives of this establishment were explained by the czar in a preliminary discourse. the chief and most remarkable of these was, 'that under the administration of a college of priests, there was less danger of troubles and insurrections, than under the government of a single head of the church; because the common people, who are always prone to superstition, might, by seeing one head of the church, and another of the state, be led to believe that they were in fact two different powers.' and hereupon he cites as an example, the divisions which so long subsisted between the empire and the papal see, and which stained so many kingdoms with blood. peter thought, and openly declared, that the notion of two powers in a state, founded on the allegory of the two swords, mentioned in the apostles, was absurd and erroneous. this court was invested with the ecclesiastical power of regulating all penances, and examining into the morals and capacity of those nominated by the court to bishoprics, to pass judgment _en dernier ressort_ in all causes relating to religion, in which it was the custom formerly to appeal to the patriarch, and also to take cognizance of the revenues of monasteries, and the distribution of alms. this synod had the title of _most holy_, the same which the patriarchs were wont to assume, and in fact the czar seemed to have preserved the patriarchal dignity, but divided among fourteen members, who were all dependant on the crown, and were to take an oath of obedience, which the patriarchs never did. the members of this holy synod, when met in assembly, had the same rank as the senators; but they were like the senate, all dependant on the prince. but neither this new form of church administration, nor the ecclesiastical code, were in full vigour till four years after its institution, namely in . peter at first intended, that the synod should have the presentation of those whom they thought most worthy to fill the vacant bishoprics. these were to be nominated by the emperor, and consecrated by the synod, peter frequently presided in person at the assembly. one day that a vacant see was to be filled, the synod observed to the emperor, that they had none but ignorant persons to present to his majesty: 'well, then,' replied the czar, 'you have only to pitch upon the most honest man, he will be worth two learned ones.' it is to be observed, that the greek church has none of that motley order called secular abbots. the _petit collet_ is unknown there, otherwise than by the ridiculousness of its character, but by another abuse (as every thing in this world must be subject to abuse) the bishops and prelates are all chosen from the monastic orders. the first monks were only laymen, partly devotees, and partly fanatics, who retired into the deserts, where they were at length gathered together by st. basil, who gave them a body of rules, and then they took vows, and were reckoned as the lower order of the church, which is the first step to be taken to arise at higher dignities. it was this that filled all greece and asia with monks. russia was overrun with them. they became rich, powerful, and though excessively ignorant, they were, at the accession of peter to the throne, almost the only persons who knew how to write. of this knowledge they made such an abuse, when struck and confounded with the new regulations which peter introduced in all the departments of government, that he was obliged in to issue an edict, forbidding the use of pen and ink to the monks, without an express order from the archimandrite, or prior of the convent, who in that case was responsible for the behaviour of those to whom he granted this indulgence. peter designed to make this a standing law, and at first he intended, that no one should be admitted into any order under fifty years of age; but that appeared too late an age, as the life of man being in general so limited, there was not time sufficient for such persons to acquire the necessary qualifications for being made bishops; and therefore, with the advice of his synod, he placed it at thirty years complete, but never under; at the same time expressly prohibiting any person exercising the profession of a soldier, or an husbandman, to enter into a convent, without an immediate order from the emperor, or the synod, and to admit no married man upon any account, even though divorced from his wife; unless that wife should at the same time embrace a religious life of her own pure will, and that neither of them had any children. no person in actual employ under government can take the habit, without an express order of the state for that purpose. every monk is obliged to work with his own hands at some trade. the nuns are never to go without the walls of their convent, and at the age of fifty are to receive the tonsure, as did the deaconesses of the primitive church; but if, before undergoing that ceremony, they have an inclination to marry, they are not only allowed, but even exhorted so to do. an admirable regulation in a country where population is of infinitely greater use than a monastic life. peter was desirous that those unhappy females, whom god has destined to people a kingdom, and who, by a mistaken devotion, annihilated in cloisters that race of which they would otherwise become mothers, should at least be of some service to society, which they thus injure; and therefore ordered, that they should all be employed in some handy works, suitable to their sex. the empress catherine took upon herself the care of sending for several handicrafts over from brabant and holland, whom she distributed among these convents, and, in a short time, they produced several kinds of work, which the empress and her ladies always wore as a part of their dress. there cannot perhaps be any thing conceived more prudent than these institutions; but what merits the attention of all ages, is the regulation which peter made himself, and which he addressed to the synod in . the ancient ecclesiastical institution is there very learnedly explained, and the indolence of the monkish life admirably well exposed; and he not only recommends an application to labour and industry, but even commands it; and that the principal occupation of those people should be, to assist and relieve the poor. he likewise orders, that sick and infirm soldiers shall be quartered in the convents, and that a certain number of monks shall be set apart to take care of them, and that the most strong and healthy of these shall cultivate the lands belonging to those convents. he orders the same regulations to be observed in the monasteries for women, and that the strongest of these shall take care of the gardens, and the rest to wait on sick or infirm women, who shall be brought from the neighbouring country into the convents for that purpose. he also enters into the minutest details relating to these services; and lastly, he appoints certain monasteries of both sexes for the reception and education of orphans. in reading this ordinance of peter the great, which was published the st january, , one would imagine it to have been framed by a minister of state and a father of the church. almost all the customs in the russian church are different from those of ours. as soon as a man is made a sub-deacon, we prohibit him from marrying, and he is accounted guilty of sacrilege if he proves instrumental to the population of his country. on the contrary, when any one has taken a sub-deacon's order in russia, he is obliged likewise to take a wife, and then may rise to the rank of priest, and arch-priest, but he cannot be made a bishop, unless he is a widower and a monk. peter forbid all parish-priests from bringing up more than one son to the service of the church, unless it was particularly desired by the parishioners; and this he did, lest a numerous family might in time come to tyrannize over the parish. we may perceive in these little circumstances relating to church-government, that the legislator had always the good of the state in view, and that he took every precaution to make the clergy properly respected, without being dangerous, and that they should be neither contemptible nor powerful. in those curious memoirs, composed by an officer who was a particular favourite of peter the great, i find the following anecdote:--one day a person reading to the czar that number of the english spectator, in which a parallel is drawn between him and lewis xiv. 'i do not think,' said peter, 'that i deserve the preference that is here given me over that monarch; but i have been fortunate enough to have the superiority over him in one essential point, namely, that of having obliged my clergy to live in peace and submission; whereas my brother lewis has suffered himself to be ruled by his.' a prince, whose days were almost wholly spent in the fatigues of war, and his nights in the compiling laws for the better government of so large an empire, and in directing so many great labours, through a space of two thousand leagues, must stand in need of some hours of amusement. diversions at that time were neither so noble or elegant as they now are, and therefore we must not wonder if peter amused himself with the entertainment of the sham conclave, of which mention has been already made, and other diversions of the same stamp, which were frequently at the expense of the romish church, to which he had a great dislike, and which was very pardonable in a prince of the greek communion, who was determined to be master in his own dominions. he likewise gave several entertainments of the same kind at the expense of the monks of his own country; but of the ancient monks, whose follies and bigotry he wished to ridicule, while he strove to reform the new. we have already seen that previous to his publishing his church-laws, he created one of his fools pope, and celebrated the feast of the sham conclave. this fool, whose name was jotof, was between eighty and ninety. the czar took it into his head to make him marry an old widow of his own age, and to have their nuptials publicly solemnized; he caused the invitation to the marriage guests to be made by four persons who were remarkable for stammering. the bride was conducted to church by decrepit old men, four of the most bulky men that could be found in russia acted as running footmen. the music were seated in a waggon drawn by bears, whom they every now and then pricked with goads of iron, and who, by their roaring, formed a full base, perfectly agreeable to the concert in the cart. the married couple received the benediction in the cathedral from the hands of a deaf and blind priest, who, to appear more ridiculous, wore a large pair of spectacles on his nose. the procession, the wedding, the marriage-feast, the undressing and putting to bed of the bride and bridegroom, were all of a piece with the rest of this burlesque ceremony. we may perhaps be apt to look upon this as a trivial and ridiculous entertainment for a great prince; but is it more so than our carnival? or to see five or six hundred persons with masks on their faces, and dressed in the most ridiculous manner, skipping and jumping about together, for a whole night in a large room, without speaking a word to each other? in fine, were the ancient feasts of the fools and the ass, and the abbot of the cuckolds, which were formerly celebrated in our churches, much superior, or did our comedies of the foolish mother exhibit marks of a greater genius? chap. xxxiv. the congress of aland or oeland. death of charles xii., &c. the treaty of nystadt. these immense labours, this minute review of the whole russian empire, and the melancholy proceedings against his unhappy son, were not the only objects which demanded the attention of the czar; it was necessary to secure himself without doors, at the same time that he was settling order and tranquillity within. the war with sweden was still carried on, though faintly, in hopes of approaching peace. it is a known fact, that in the year , cardinal alberoni, prime minister to philip v. of spain, and baron gortz, who had gained an entire ascendant over the mind of charles xii. had concerted a project to change the face of affairs in europe, by effecting a reconciliation between this last prince and the czar, driving george i. from the english throne, and replacing stanislaus on that of poland, while cardinal alberoni was to procure the regency of france for his master philip. gortz, as has been already observed, had opened his mind on this head to the czar himself. alberoni had begun a negotiation with prince kourakin, the czar's ambassador at the hague, by means of the spanish ambassador, baretti landi, a native of mantua, who had, like the cardinal, quitted his own country to live in spain. thus a set of foreigners were about to overturn the general system, for masters under whose dominion they were not born, or rather for themselves. charles xii. gave into all these projects, and the czar contented himself with examining them in private. since the year he had made only feeble efforts against sweden, and those rather with a view to oblige that kingdom to purchase peace by restoring those places it had taken in the course of the war, than with an intent to crush it altogether. the baron gortz, ever active and indefatigable in his projects, had prevailed on the czar to send plenipotentiaries to the island of oeland to set on foot a treaty of peace. bruce, a scotchman, and grand master of the ordnance in russia, and the famous osterman, who was afterwards at the head of affairs, arrived at the place appointed for the congress exactly at the time that the czarowitz was put under arrest at moscow. gortz and gillembourg were already there on the part of charles xii. both impatient to bring about a reconciliation between that prince and peter, and to revenge themselves on the king of england. it was an extraordinary circumstance that there should be a congress, and no cessation of arms. the czar's fleet still continued cruising on the coasts of sweden, and taking the ships of that nation. peter thought by keeping up hostilities to hasten the conclusion of a peace, of which he knew the swedes stood greatly in need, and which must prove highly glorious to the conqueror. notwithstanding the little hostilities which still continued, every thing bespoke the speedy approach of peace. the preliminaries began by mutual acts of generosity, which produce stronger effects than many hand-writings. the czar sent back without ransom marshal erenschild, whom he had taken prisoner with his own hands, and charles in return did the same by trubetskoy and gallowin, who had continued prisoners in sweden ever since the battle of narva. the negotiations now advanced apace, and a total change was going to be made in the affairs of the north. gortz proposed to the czar to put the duchy of mecklenburg into his hands. duke charles, its sovereign, who had married a daughter of czar john, peter's elder brother, was at variance with the nobility of the country, who had taken arms against him. and peter, who looked upon that prince as his brother-in-law, had an army in mecklenburg ready to espouse his cause. the king of england, elector of hanover, declared on the side of the nobles. here was another opportunity of mortifying the king of england, by putting peter in possession of mecklenburg, who, being already master of livonia, would by this means, in a short time, become more powerful in germany than any of its electors. the duchy of courland was to be given to the duke of mecklenburg, as an equivalent for his own, together with a part of prussia at the expense of poland, who was to have stanislaus again for her king. bremen and verden were to revert to sweden; but these provinces could not be wrested out of the hands of the king of england but by force of arms; accordingly gortz's project was (as we have already said) to effect a firm union between peter and charles xii., and that not only by the bands of peace, but by an offensive alliance, in which case they were jointly to send an army into scotland. charles xii. after having made himself master of norway, was to make a descent on great britain, and he fondly imagined he should be able to set a new sovereign on the throne of those kingdoms, after having replaced one of his own choosing on that of poland. cardinal alberoni promised both peter and charles to furnish them with subsidies. the fall of the king of england would, it was supposed, draw with it that of his ally, the regent of france, who being thus deprived of all support, was to fall a victim to the victorious arms of spain, and the discontent of the french nation. alberoni and gortz now thought themselves secure of totally overturning the system of europe, when a cannon ball from the bastions of frederickshal in norway confounded all their mighty projects. charles xii. was killed, the spanish fleet was beaten by that of england, the conspiracy which had been formed in france was discovered and quelled, alberoni was driven out of spain, and gortz was beheaded at stockholm; and of all this formidable league, so lately made, the czar alone retained his credit, who by not having put himself in the power of any one, gave law to all his neighbours. at the death of charles xii. there was a total change of measures in sweden. charles had governed with a despotic power, and his sister ulrica was elected queen on express condition of renouncing arbitrary government. charles intended to form an alliance with the czar against england and its allies, and the new government of sweden now joined those allies against the czar. the congress at oeland, however, was not broken up; but the swedes, now in league with the english, flattered themselves that the fleets of that nation sent into the baltic would procure them a more advantageous peace. a body of hanoverian troops entered the dominions of the duke of mecklenburg (feb. .), but were soon driven from thence by the czar's forces. peter likewise had a body of troops in poland, which kept in awe both the party of augustus, and that of stanislaus; and as to sweden, he had a fleet always ready, either to make a descent on their coasts, or to oblige the swedish government to hasten matters in the congress. this fleet consisted of twelve large ships of the line, and several lesser ones, besides frigates and galleys. the czar served on board this fleet as vice-admiral, under the command of admiral apraxin. a part of this fleet signalized itself in the beginning against a swedish squadron, and, after an obstinate engagement, took one ship of the line, and two frigates. peter, who constantly endeavoured, by every possible means, to encourage and improve the navy he had been at so much pains to establish, gave, on this occasion, sixty thousand french livres[ ] in money among the officers of this squadron, with several gold medals, besides conferring marks of honour on those who principally distinguished themselves. about this time also the english fleet under admiral norris came up the baltic, in order to favour the swedes. peter, who well knew how far he could depend on his new navy, was not to be frightened by the english, but boldly kept the sea, and sent to know of the english admiral if he was come only as a friend to the swedes, or as an enemy to russia? the admiral returned for answer, that he had not as yet any positive orders from his court on that head: however peter, notwithstanding this equivocal reply, continued to keep the sea with his fleet. the english fleet, which in fact was come thither only to shew itself, and thereby induce the czar to grant more favourable conditions of peace to the swedes, went to copenhagen, and the russians made some descents on the swedish coast, and even in the neighbourhood of copenhagen, (july .) where they destroyed some copper mines, burnt about fifteen thousand houses, and did mischief enough to make the swedes heartily wish for a speedy conclusion of the peace. accordingly the new queen of sweden pressed a renewal of the negotiations; osterman himself was sent to stockholm, and matters continued in this situation during the whole of the year . the following year the prince of hesse, husband to the queen of sweden, and now become king, in virtue of her having yielded up the sovereign power in his favour, began his reign by sending a minister to the court of petersburg, in order to hasten the so much desired peace; but the war was still carried on in the midst of these negotiations. the english fleet joined that of the swedes, but did not yet commit any hostilities, as there was no open rupture between the courts of russia and england, and admiral norris even offered his master's mediation towards bringing about a peace; but as this offer was made with arms in hand, it rather retarded than facilitated the negotiations. the coasts of sweden, and those of the new russian provinces in the baltic, are so situated, that the former lay open to every insult, while the latter are secured by their difficult access. this was clearly seen when admiral norris, after having thrown off the mask, (june .) made a descent in conjunction with the swedish fleet on a little island in the province of esthonia, called narguen, which belonged to the czar, where they only burnt a peasant's house; but the russians at the same time made a descent near wasa, and burnt forty-one villages, and upwards of one thousand houses, and did an infinite deal of damage to the country round about. prince galitzin boarded and took four swedish frigates, and the english admiral seemed to have come only to be spectator of that pitch of glory to which the czar had raised his infant navy; for he had but just shewn himself in those seas, when the swedish frigates were carried in triumph into the harbour of cronslot before petersburg.[ ] on this occasions methinks the english did too much if they came only as mediators, and too little if as enemies. nov. .] at length, the new king of sweden demanded a cessation of arms; and as he found the menaces of the english had stood him in no stead, he had recourse to the duke of orleans, the french regent; and this prince, at once an ally of russia and sweden, had the honour of effecting a reconciliation between them. (feb. .) he sent campredon, his plenipotentiary, to the court of petersburg, and from thence to that of stockholm. a congress was opened at nystadt,[ ] but the czar would not agree to a cessation of arms till matters were on the point of being concluded and the plenipotentiaries ready to sign. he had an army in finland ready to subdue the rest of that province, and his fleets were continually threatening the swedish coasts, so that he seemed absolute master of dictating the terms of peace; accordingly they subscribed to whatever he thought fit to demand. by this treaty he was to remain in perpetual possession of all that his arms had conquered, from the borders of courland to the extremity of the gulf of finland, and from thence again of the whole extent of the country of kexholm, and that narrow slip of finland which stretches out to the northward of the neighbourhood of kexholm; so that he remained master of all livonia, esthonia, ingria, carelia, with the country of wybourg, and the neighbouring isles, which secured to him the sovereignty of the sea, as likewise of the isles of oessel, dago, mona, and several others: the whole forming an extent of three thousand leagues of country, of unequal breadth, and which altogether made a large kingdom, that proved the reward of twenty years' immense pains and labour. the peace was signed at nystadt the th september, , n. s. by the russian minister osterman, and general bruce. peter was the more rejoiced at that event, as it freed him from the necessity of keeping such large armies on the frontiers of sweden, as also from any apprehensions on the part of england, or of the neighbouring states, and left him at full liberty to exert his whole attention to the modelling of his empire, in which he had already made so successful a beginning, and to cherish arts and commerce, which he had introduced among his subjects, at the expense of infinite labour and industry. in the first transports of his satisfaction, we find him writing in these terms to his plenipotentiaries; 'you have drawn up the treaty as if we ourself had dictated and sent it to you to offer the swedes to sign. this glorious event shall be ever present to our remembrance.' all degrees of people, throughout the russian empire, gave proofs of their satisfaction, by the most extraordinary rejoicings of all kinds, and particularly at petersburg. the triumphal festivals, with which the czar had entertained his people during the course of the war, were nothing to compare to these rejoicings for the peace, which every one hailed with unutterable satisfaction. the peace itself was the most glorious of all his triumphs; and what pleased more than all the pompous shows on the occasion, was a free pardon and general release granted to all prisoners, and a general remission of all sums due to the royal treasury for taxes throughout the whole empire, to the day of the publication of the peace. in consequence of which a multitude of unhappy wretches, who had been confined in prison, were set at liberty, excepting only those guilty of highway-robbery, murder, or treason.[ ] it was at this time that the senate decreed peter the titles of _great_, _emperor_, and _father of his country_. count golofkin, the high chancellor, made a speech to the czar in the great cathedral, in the name of all the orders of the state, the senators crying aloud, _long live our emperor and father!_ in which acclamations they were joined by the united voice of all the people present. the ministers of france, germany, poland, denmark, and the states-general, waited on him, with their congratulations, on the titles lately bestowed on him, and formally acknowledged for emperor him who had been always publicly known in holland by that title, ever since the battle of pultowa. the names of _father_, and of _great_, were glorious epithets, which no one in europe could dispute him; that of _emperor_ was only a honorary title, given by custom to the sovereigns of germany, as titular kings of the romans; and it requires time before such appellations come to be formally adopted by those courts where forms of state and real glory are different things. but peter was in a short time after acknowledged emperor by all the states of europe, excepting only that of poland, which was still divided by factions, and the pope, whose suffrage was become of very little significance, since the court of rome had lost its credit in proportion as other nations became more enlightened. chap. xxxv. conquests in persia. the situation of russia is such, as necessarily obliges her to keep up certain connexions with all the nations that lie in the fifth degree of north latitude. when under a bad administration, she was a prey by turns to the tartars, the swedes, and the poles; but when governed by a resolute and vigorous prince, she became formidable to all her neighbours. peter began his reign by an advantageous treaty with the chinese. he had waged war at one and the same time against the swedes and the turks, and now prepared to lead his victorious armies into persia. at this time persia began to fall into that deplorable state, in which we now behold her. let us figure to ourselves the thirty years' war in germany, the times of the league, those of the massacre of st. bartholomew, and the reigns of charles vi. and of king john in france, the civil wars in england, the long and horrible ravages of the whole russian empire by the tartars, or their invasion of china; and then we shall have some slight conception of the miseries under which the persian empire has so long groaned. a weak and indolent prince, and a powerful and enterprising subject, are sufficient to plunge a whole nation into such an abyss of disasters. hussein, sha, shaic, or sophi of persia, a descendant of the great sha abbas, who sat at this time on the throne of persia, had given himself wholly up to luxury and effeminacy: his prime minister committed acts of the greatest violence and injustice, which this great prince winked at, and this gave rise to forty years' desolation and bloodshed. persia, like turkey, has several provinces, all governed in a different manner; she has subjects immediately under her dominion, vassals, tributary princes, and even nations, to whom the court was wont to pay a tribute, under the name of subsidies; for instance, the people of daghestan, who inhabit the branches of mount caucasus, to the westward of the caspian sea, which was formerly a part of the ancient albania; for all nations have changed their appellation and their limits. these are now called lesgians, and are mountaineers, who are rather under the protection, than the dominion, of persia; to these the government paid subsidies for defending the frontiers. at the other extremity of the empire, towards the indies, was the prince of candahar, who commanded a kind of martial militia, called aghwans. this prince of candahar was a vassal of the persian, as the hospodars of walachia and moldavia are of the turkish empire: this vassalage was not hereditary, but exactly the same with the ancient feudal tenures established throughout europe, by that race of tartars who overthrew the roman empire. the aghwan militia, of which the prince of candahar was the head, was the same with the albanians on the coasts of the caspian sea, in the neighbourhood of daghestan, and a mixture of circassians and georgians, like the ancient mamelucks who enslaved egypt. the name of aghwans is a corruption; timur, whom we call tamerlane, had led these people into india, and they remained settled in the province of candahar, which sometimes belonged to the mogul empire, and sometimes to that of persia. it was these aghwans and lesgians who began the revolution. mir-weis, or meriwitz, intendant of the province, whose office was only to collect the tributes, assassinated the prince of candahar, armed the militia, and continued master of the province till his death, which happened in . his brother came quietly to the succession, by paying a slight tribute to the persian court. but the son of mir-weis, who inherited the ambition of his father, assassinated his uncle, and began to erect himself into a conqueror. this young man was called mir-mahmoud, but he was known in europe only by the name of his father, who had begun the rebellion. mahmoud reinforced his aghwans, by adding to them all the guebres he could get together. these guebres were an ancient race of persians, who had been dispersed by the caliph omar, and who still continued attached to the religion of the magi (formerly flourished in the reign of cyrus), and were always secret enemies to the new persians. having assembled his forces, mahmoud marched into the heart of persia, at the head of a hundred thousand men. at the same time the lesgians or albanians, who, on account of the troublesome times, had not received their subsidies from the court of persia, came down from their mountains with an armed force, so that the flames of civil war were lighted up at both ends of the empire, and extended themselves even to the capital. these lesgians ravaged all that country which stretches along the western borders of the caspian sea, as far as derbent, or the iron gate. in this country is situated the city of shamache, about fifteen leagues distant from the sea, and is said to have been the ancient residence of cyrus, and by the greeks called cyropolis, for we know nothing of the situation or names of these countries, but what we have from the greeks; but as the persians never had a prince called cyrus, much less had they any city called cyropolis. it is much in the same manner that the jews, who commenced authors when they were settled in alexandria, framed a notion of a city called scythopolis, which, said they, was built by the scythians in the neighbourhood of judea, as if either scythians or ancient jews could have given greek names to their towns. the city of shamache was very rich. the armenians, who inhabit in the neighbourhood of this part of the persian empire, carried on an immense traffic there, and peter had lately established a company of russian merchants at his own expense, which company became very flourishing. the lesgians made themselves masters of this city by surprise, plundered it, and put to death all the russians who traded there under the protection of shah hussein, after having stripped all their warehouses. the loss on this occasion was said to amount to four millions of rubles. peter upon this sent to demand satisfaction of the emperor hussein, who was then disputing the throne with the rebel mahmoud, who had usurped it, and likewise of mahmoud himself. the former of these was willing to do the czar justice, the other refused it; peter therefore resolved to right himself, and take advantage of the distractions in the persian empire. mir-mahmoud still pushed his conquests in persia. the sophi hearing that the emperor of russia was preparing to enter the caspian sea, in order to revenge the murder of his subjects at shamache, made private application to him, by means of an armenian, to take upon him at the same time the defence of persia. peter had for a considerable time formed a project to make himself master of the caspian sea, by means of a powerful naval force, and to turn the tide of commerce from persia and a part of india through his own dominions. he had caused several parts of this sea to be sounded, the coasts to be surveyed, and exact charts made of the whole. he then set sail for the coast of persia the th day of may, . catherine accompanied him in this voyage, as she had done in the former. they sailed down the wolga as far as the city of astracan. from thence he hastened to forward the canals which were to join the caspian, the baltic, and the euxine seas, a work which has been since executed in part under the reign of his grandson. while he was directing these works, the necessary provisions for his expedition were arrived in the caspian sea. he was to take with him twenty-two thousand foot, nine thousand dragoons, fifteen thousand cossacks, and three thousand seamen, who were to work the ships, and occasionally assist the soldiery in making descents on the coast. the horse were to march over land through deserts where there was frequently no water to be had, and afterwards to pass over the mountains of caucasus, where three hundred men are sufficient to stop the progress of a whole army; but the distracted condition in which persia then was, warranted the most hazardous enterprises. the czar sailed about a hundred leagues to the southward of astracan, till he came to the little town of andrewhoff. it may appear extraordinary to hear of the name of andrew on the coasts of the hyrcanian sea; but some georgians, who were formerly a sect of christians, had built this town, which the persians afterwards fortified; but it fell an easy prey to the czar's arms. from thence he continued advancing by land into the province of daghestan, and caused manifestoes to be circulated in the turkish and persian languages.[ ] it was necessary to keep fair with the ottoman porte, who reckoned among its subjects, not only the circassians and georgians, who border upon this country, but also several powerful vassals, who had of late put themselves under the protection of the grand seignior. among others there was one very powerful, named mahmoud d'utmich, who took the title of sultan, and had the courage to attack the czar's troops, by which he was totally defeated, and the story says, that his whole country was made a bonfire on the occasion. sept. , .] in a short time afterwards peter arrived at the city of derbent, by the persians and turks called demir capi, that is, the iron gate, and so named from having formerly had an iron gate at the south entrance. the city is long and narrow, its upper part joins to a rocky branch of mount caucasus, and the walls of the lower part are washed by the sea, which in violent storms make a breach over them. these walls might pass for one of the wonders of antiquity, being forty feet in height, and six in breadth, defended with square towers at the distance of every fifty feet. the whole work seems one uniform piece, and is built of a sort of brown free-stone mixed with pounded shells, which served as mortar, so that the whole forms a mass harder than marble. the city lies open from the sea, but part of it next the land appears impregnable. there are still some ruins of an old wall like that of china, which must have been built in the earliest times of antiquity, and stretched from the borders of the caspian sea to the pontus euxinus; and this was probably a rampart raised by the ancient kings of persia against those swarms of barbarians which dwelt between those two seas. according to the persian tradition, the city of derbent was partly repaired and fortified by alexander the great. arrian and quintus curtius tell us, that alexander absolutely rebuilt this city. they say indeed that it was on the banks of the tanais or don, but then in their time the greeks gave the name of tanais to the river cyrus, which runs by the city. it would be a contradiction to suppose that alexander should build a harbour in the caspian sea, on a river that opens into the black sea. there were formerly three or four other ports in different parts of the caspian sea, all which were probably built with the same view; for the several nations inhabiting to the west, east, and north of that sea, have in all times been barbarians, who had rendered themselves formidable to the rest of the world, and from hence principally issued those swarms of conquerors who subjugated asia and europe. and here i must beg leave to remark, how much pleasure authors in all ages have taken to impose upon mankind, and how much they have preferred a vain show of eloquence to matter of fact. quintus curtius puts into the mouths of scythians an admirable speech full of moderation and philosophy, as if the tartars of those regions had been all so many sages, and that alexander had not been the general nominated by the greeks against the king of persia, sovereign of the greatest part of southern scythia and the indies. other rhetoricians, thinking to imitate quintus curtius, have studied to make us look upon those savages of caucacus and its dreary deserts, who lived wholly upon rapine and bloodshed, as the people in the world most remarkable for austere virtue and justice, and have painted alexander, the avenger of greece, and the conqueror of those who would have enslaved him and his country, as a public robber, who had ravaged the world without justice or reason. such writers do not consider, that these tartars were never other than destroyers, and that alexander built towns in the very country which they inhabited; and in this respect i may venture to compare peter the great to alexander; like him he was assiduous and indefatigable in his pursuits, a lover and friend of the useful arts; he surpassed him as a lawgiver, and like him endeavoured to change the tide of commerce in the world, and built and repaired at least as many towns as that celebrated hero of antiquity. on the approach of the russian army, the governor of derbent resolved not to sustain a siege, whether he thought he was not able to defend the place, or that he preferred the czar's protection to that of the tyrant mahmoud; brought the keys of the town and citadel (which were silver) and presented them to peter, whose army peaceably entered the city, and then encamped on the sea-shore. the usurper, mahmoud, already master of great part of persia, in vain endeavoured to prevent the czar from taking possession of derbent: he stirred up the neighbouring tartars, and marched into persia to the relief of the place; but, too late, for derbent was already in the hands of the conqueror. peter however was not in a condition to push his successes any further at this time. the vessels which were bringing him a fresh supply of provisions, horses, and recruits, had been cast away near astracan, and the season was far spent. he therefore returned to moscow, jan. . which he entered in triumph; and after his arrival (according to custom) gave a strict account of his expedition to the vice-czar romadanowski, thus keeping up this extraordinary farce, which, says his eulogium, pronounced in the academy of sciences at paris, ought to have been performed before all the monarchs of the earth. the empire of persia continued to be divided between hussein and the usurper mahmoud. the first of these thought to find a protector in the czar, and the other dreaded him as an avenger, who was come to snatch the fruits of his rebellion out of his hands. mahmoud exerted all his endeavours to stir up the ottoman porte against peter, and for this purpose sent an embassy to constantinople, while the princes of daghestan, who were under the protection of the grand seignior, and had been stript of their territories by the victorious army of peter, cried aloud for vengeance. the divan was now alarmed for the safety of georgia, which the turks reckon in the number of their dominions. the grand seignior was on the point of declaring war against the czar, but was prevented by the courts of vienna and paris. the emperor of germany at the same time declared, that if russia should be attacked by the turks, he must be obliged to defend it. the marquis de bonac, the french ambassador at constantinople, made a dextrous use of the menaces of the imperial court, and at the same time insinuated, that it was contrary to the true interest of the turkish empire, to suffer a rebel and an usurper to set the example of dethroning sovereigns, and that the czar had done no more than what the grand seignior himself ought to have done. during these delicate negotiations, mir mahmoud was advanced to the gates of derbent, and had laid waste all the neighbouring country in order to cut off all means of subsistence from the russian army. that part of ancient hyrcania, now called ghilan, was reduced to a desert, and the inhabitants threw themselves under the protection of the russians, whom they looked upon as their deliverers. in this they followed the example of the sophi himself. that unfortunate prince sent a formal embassy to peter the great, to request his assistance; but the ambassador was hardly departed, when the rebel, mir mahmoud, seized on ispahan and the person of his master. thamaseb, the son of the dethroned sophi, who was taken prisoner, found means to escape out of the tyrant's hands, and got together a body of troops, with which he gave the usurper battle. he seconded his father's entreaties to peter the great for his protection, and sent to the ambassador the same instructions which shah hussein had given him. this ambassador, whose name was ishmael beg, found that his negotiations had proved successful, even before he arrived in person; for, on landing at astracan, he learnt that general matufkin was going to set out with fresh recruits to reinforce the army in daghestan. the dey of baku or bachu, which with the persians gives to the caspian sea the name of the sea of bacou, was not yet taken. the ambassador therefore gave the russian general a letter for the inhabitants, in which he exhorted them in his master's name to submit to the emperor of russia. the ambassador then proceeded to petersburg, and general matufkin departed to lay siege to the city of bachu. (aug. .) the persian ambassador arrived at the czar's court the very day that tidings were brought of the reduction of that city. baku is situate near shamache, but is neither so well peopled, nor so rich as the latter. it is chiefly remarkable for the naptha, with which it furnishes all persia. never was treaty so speedily concluded as that of ishmael beg. (sept. .) czar peter promised to march with his forces into persia, in order to revenge the death of his subjects, and to succour thamaseb against the usurper of his crown, and the new sophi in return was to cede to him, not only the towns of bachu and derbent, but likewise the provinces of ghilan, mazanderan, and asterabath. ghilan is, as we have already observed, the ancient south hyrcania; mazanderan, which joins to it, is the country of the mardi, or mardians; and asterabath borders upon mazanderan. these were the three principal provinces of the ancient median kings; so that peter beheld himself, by the means of arms and treaties, in possession of the original kingdom of cyrus. it may not be foreign to our subject to observe, that by the articles of this convention, the prices of necessaries to be furnished to the army were settled. a camel was to cost only sixty franks (about twelve rubles) a pound of bread no more than five farthings, the same weight of beef about six. these prices furnish a convincing proof of the plenty he found in these countries, that possessions in land are of the most intrinsic value, and that money, which is only of nominal worth, was at that time very scarce. such was the deplorable state to which persia was then reduced, that the unfortunate sophi thamaseb, a wanderer in his own kingdom, and flying before the face of the rebel, mahmoud, who had dipt his hands in the blood of his father and his brothers, was necessitated to entreat the court of russia and the turkish divan to accept of one part of his dominions to preserve for him the rest. it was agreed then, between czar peter, sultan achmet iii. and the sophi thamaseb, that the first of these should keep the three provinces above-named, and that the porte should have casbin, tauris, and erivan, besides what she had already taken from the usurper. thus was this noble kingdom dismembered at once by the russians, the turks, and the persians themselves. and now the emperor peter might be said to extend his dominions from the furthest part of the baltic sea, beyond the southern limits of the caspian. persia still continued a prey to violations and devastations, and its natives, till then opulent and polite, were now sunk in poverty and barbarism, while the russian people had arisen from indigence and ignorance to a state of riches and learning. one single man, by a resolute and enterprising genius, had brought his country out of obscurity; and another, by his weakness and indolence, had brought destruction upon his. hitherto we know very little of the private calamities which for so long a time spread desolation over the face of the persian empire. it is said, that shah hussein was so pusillanimous as to place with his own hands the tiara or crown of persia on the head of the usurper mahmoud, and also that this mahmoud afterwards went mad. thus the lives of so many thousands of men depend on the caprice of a madman or a fool. they add furthermore, that mahmoud, in one of his fits of frenzy, put to death with his own hand all the sons and nephews of the shah hussein to the number of a hundred; and that he caused the gospel of st. john to be read upon his head, in order to purify himself, and to receive a cure for his disorder. these and such like persian fables have been circulated by our monks, and afterwards printed in paris. the tyrant, after having murdered his uncle, was in his turn put to death by his nephew eshreff, who was as cruel and bloody a tyrant as mahmoud himself. shah thamaseb still continued imploring the assistance of russia. this thamaseb or shah thomas, was assisted and afterwards replaced on the throne by the famous kouli khan, and was again dethroned by the same kouli khan. the revolutions and wars which russia had afterwards to encounter against the turks, and in which she proved victorious, the evacuating the three provinces in persia, which cost russia more to keep than they were worth, are events which do not concern peter the great, as they did not happen till several years after his death; it may suffice to observe, that he finished his military career by adding three provinces to his empire on the part next to persia, after having just before added the same number on that side next to sweden. chap. xxxvi. of the coronation of the empress catherine i. and the death of peter the great. peter, at his return from his persian expedition, found himself in a better condition than ever to be the arbiter of the north. he now openly declared himself the protector of charles xii. whose professed enemy he had been for eighteen years. he sent for the duke of holstein, nephew to that monarch, to his court, promised him his eldest daughter in marriage, and began to make preparations for supporting him in his claims on the duchy of holstein sleswick, and even engaged himself so to do by a treaty of alliance, (feb. .) which he concluded with the crown of sweden. he continued the works he had begun all over his empire, to the further extremity of kamtshatka, and for the better direction of them, established an academy of sciences at petersburg. the arts began now to flourish on every side: manufactures were encouraged, the navy was augmented, the army well provided, and the laws properly enforced. he now enjoyed his glory in full repose; but was desirous of sharing it in a new manner with her who, according to his own declaration, by remedying the disaster of the campaign of pruth, had been in some measure the instrument of his acquiring that glory. accordingly, the coronation of his consort catherine was performed at moscow, in presence of the duchess of courland, his eldest brother's daughter, and the duke of holstein, his intended son-in-law. (may , .) the declaration which he published on this occasion merits attention: he therein cites the examples of several christian princes who had placed the crown on the heads of their consorts, as likewise those of the heathen emperors, basilides, justinian, heraclius, and leo, the philosopher. he enumerates the services catherine had done to the state, and in particular in the war against the turks,--'where my army,' says he, 'which had been reduced to , men, had to encounter an army above , strong.' he does not say, in this declaration, that the empress was to succeed to the crown after his death; but this ceremony, which was altogether new and unusual in the russian empire, was one of those means by which he prepared the minds of his subjects for such an event. another circumstance that might perhaps furnish a stronger reason to believe that he destined catherine to succeed him on the throne, was, that he himself marched on foot before her the day of her coronation, as captain of a new company, which he had created under the name of the _knights of the empress_. when they arrived at the cathedral, peter himself placed the crown on her head; and when she would have fallen down and embraced his knees, he prevented her; and, at their return from the church, caused the sceptre and globe to be carried before her. the ceremony was altogether worthy an emperor; for on every public occasion peter shewed as much pomp and magnificence as he did plainness and simplicity in his private manner of living. having thus crowned his spouse, he at length determined to give his eldest daughter, anna petrowna, in marriage to the duke of holstein. this princess greatly resembled her father in the face, was very majestic, and of a singular beauty. she was betrothed to the duke of holstein on the th of november, , but with very little ceremony. peter having for some time past found his health greatly impaired, and this, together with some family uneasiness, that perhaps rather increased his disorder, which in a short time proved fatal, permitted him to have but very little relish for feasts or public diversions in this latter part of his life. [ ] the empress catherine had at that time a young man for the chamberlain of her household, whose name was moens de la croix, a native of russia, but of flemish parents, remarkably handsome and genteel. his sister, madame de balc, was bed-chamber-woman to the empress, and these two had entirely the management of her household. being both accused of having taken presents, they were sent to prison, and afterwards brought to their trial by express order of the czar; who, by an edict in the year , had forbidden any one holding a place about court to receive any present or other gratuity, on pain of being declared infamous, and suffering death; and this prohibition had been several times renewed. the brother and sister were found guilty, and received sentence, and all those who had either purchased their services or given them any gratuity in return for the same, were included therein, except the duke of holstein and his minister count bassewitz: as it is probable that the presents made by that prince, to those who had a share in bringing about his marriage with the czar's daughter, were not looked upon in a criminal light. moens was condemned to be beheaded, and his sister (who was the empress's favourite) to receive eleven strokes of the knout. the two sons of this lady, one of whom was an officer in the household, and the other a page, were degraded, and sent to serve as private soldiers in the army in persia. these severities, though they shock our manners, were perhaps necessary in a country where the observance of the laws is to be enforced only by the most terrifying rigour. the empress solicited her favourite's pardon; but the czar, offended at her application, peremptorily refused her, and, in the heat of his passion, seeing a fine looking-glass in the apartment, he, with one blow of his fist, broke it into a thousand pieces; and, turning to the empress, 'thus,' said he, 'thou seest i can, with one stroke of my hand, reduce this glass to its original dust.' catherine, in a melting accent, replied, 'it is true, you have destroyed one of the greatest ornaments of your palace, but do you think that palace is the more charming for its loss?' this answer appeased the emperor's wrath; but all the favour that catherine could obtain for her bed-chamber-woman was, that she should receive only five strokes of the knout instead of eleven. i should not have related this anecdote, had it not been attested by a public minister, who was eye-witness of the whole transaction, and who, by having made presents to the unfortunate brother and sister, was perhaps himself one of the principal causes of their disgrace and sufferings. it was this affair that emboldened those who judge of every thing in the worst light, to spread the report that catherine hastened the death of her husband, whose choleric disposition filled her with apprehensions that overweighed the gratitude she owed him for the many favours he had heaped upon her. these cruel suspicions were confirmed by catherine's recalling to court her woman of the bed-chamber immediately upon the death of the czar, and reinstating her in her former influence. it is the duty of an historian to relate the public reports which have been circulated in all times in states, on the decease of princes who have been snatched away by a premature death, as if nature was not alone sufficient to put a period to the existence of a crowned head as well as that of a beggar; but it is likewise the duty of an historian to shew how far such reports were rashly or unjustly formed. there is an immense distance between the momentary discontent which may arise from the morose or harsh behaviour of a husband, and the desperate resolution of poisoning that husband, who is at the same time our sovereign and benefactor in the highest degree. the danger attending such a design would have been as great as it was criminal. catherine had at that time a powerful party against her, who epoused the cause of the son of the deceased czarowitz. nevertheless, neither that faction, nor any one person about the court, once suspected the czarina; and the vague rumours which were spread on this head were founded only on the mistaken notions of foreigners, who were very imperfectly acquainted with the affair, and who chose to indulge the wretched pleasure of accusing of heinous crimes those whom they thought interested to commit them. but it was even very doubtful whether this was at all the case with catherine. it was far from being certain that she was to succeed her husband. she had been crowned indeed, but only in the character of wife to the reigning sovereign, and not as one who was to enjoy the sovereign authority after his death. peter, in his declaration, had only ordered this coronation as a matter of ceremony, and not as conferring a right of governing. he therein only cited the examples of emperors, who had caused their consorts to be crowned, but not of those who had conferred on them the royal authority. in fine, at the very time of peter's illness, several persons believed that the princess anna petrowna would succeed him jointly with her husband the duke of holstein, or that the czar would nominate his grandson for his successor; therefore, so far from catherine's being interested in the death of the emperor, she rather seemed concerned in the preservation of his life. it is undeniable, that peter had, for a considerable time, been troubled with an abscess in the bladder, and a stoppage of urine. the mineral waters of olnitz, and some others, which he had been advised to use, had proved of very little service to him, and he had found himself growing sensibly weaker, ever since the beginning of the year . his labours, from which he would not allow himself any respite, increased his disorder, and hastened his end: (jan. .) his malady became now more and more desperate, he felt burning pains, which threw him into an almost constant delirium,[ ] whenever he had a moment's interval, he endeavoured to write, but he could only scrawl a few lines that were wholly unintelligible; and it was with the greatest difficulty that the following words, in the russian language, could be distinguished:--'_let every thing be given to ----_' he then called for the princess anna petrowna, in order to dictate to her, but by that time she could come to his bed-side, he had lost his speech, and fell into a fit, which lasted sixteen hours. the empress catherine did not quit his bed-side for three nights together. at length, he breathed his last in her arms, on the th of jan. . about four o'clock in the morning. his body was conveyed into the great hall of the palace, accompanied by all the imperial family, the senate, all the principal personages of state, and an innumerable concourse of people. it was there exposed on a bed of state, and every one was permitted to approach and kiss his hand, till the day of his interment, which was on the - st of march, .[ ] it has been thought, and it has been asserted in print, that he had appointed his wife catherine to succeed him in the empire, by his last will, but the truth is, that he never made any will, or at least none that ever appeared; a most astonishing negligence in so great a legislator, and a proof that he did not think his disorder mortal. no one knew, at the time of his death, who was to succeed him: he left behind him his grandson peter, son of the unfortunate alexis, and his eldest daughter anna, married to the duke of holstein. there was a considerable faction in favour of young peter; but prince menzikoff, who had never had any other interests than those of the empress catherine, took care to be beforehand with all parties, and their designs; and accordingly, when the czar was upon the point of giving up the ghost, he caused the empress to remove into another apartment of the palace, where all their friends were assembled ready: he had the royal treasures conveyed into the citadel, and secured the guards in his interest, as likewise the archbishop of novogorod; and then they held a private council, in presence of the empress catherine, and one macarof, a secretary, in whom they could confide, at which the duke of holstein's minister assisted. at the breaking up of this council, the empress returned to the czar's bed-side, who soon after yielded up the ghost in her arms. as soon as his death was made known, the principal senators and general officers repaired to the palace, where the empress made a speech to them, which prince menzikoff answered in the name of all present. the empress being withdrawn, they proceeded to consider the proper forms to be observed on the occasion, when theophanes, archbishop of pleskow, told the assembly, that, on the eve of the coronation of the empress catherine, the deceased czar had declared to him, that his sole reason for placing the crown on her head, was, that she might wear it after his death; upon which the assembly unanimously signed the proclamation, and catherine succeeded her husband on the throne the very day of his death. peter the great was regretted by all those whom he had formed, and the descendants of those who had been sticklers for the ancient customs soon began to look on him as their father: foreign nations, who have beheld the duration of his establishments, have always expressed the highest admiration for his memory, acknowledging that he was actuated by a more than common prudence and wisdom, and not by a vain desire of doing extraordinary things. all europe knows that though he was fond of fame, he coveted it only for noble principles; that though he had faults, they never obscured his noble qualities, and that, though, as a man, he was liable to errors, as a monarch he was always great: he every way forced nature, in his subjects, in himself, by sea and land: but he forced her only to render her more pleasing and noble. the arts, which he transplanted with his own hands, into countries, till then in a manner savage, have flourished, and produced fruits which are lasting testimonies of his genius, and will render his memory immortal, since they now appear as natives of those places to which he introduced them. the civil, political, and military government, trade, manufactures, the arts and the sciences, have all been carried on, according to his plan, and by an event not to be paralleled in history: we have seen four women successively ascend the throne after him, who have maintained, in full vigour, all the great designs he accomplished, and have completed those which he had begun. the court has undergone some revolutions since his death, but the empire has not suffered one. its splendour was increased by catherine i. it triumphed over the turks and the swedes under anna petrowna; and under elizabeth it conquered prussia, and a part of pomerania; and lastly, it has tasted the sweets of peace, and has seen the arts flourish in fulness and security in the reign of catherine the second.[ ] let the historians of that nation enter into the minutest circumstances of the new creation, the wars and undertakings of peter the great: let them rouse the emulation of their countrymen, by celebrating those heroes who assisted this monarch in his labours, in the field, and in the cabinet. it is sufficient for a stranger, a disinterested admirer of merit, to have endeavoured to set to view that great man, who learned of charles xii. to conquer him, who twice quitted his dominions, in order to govern them the better, who worked with his own hands, in almost all the useful and necessary arts, to set an example of instruction to his people, and who was the founder and the father of his empire.[ ] princes, who reign over states long since civilized, may say to themselves, 'if a man, assisted only by his own genius, has been capable of doing such great things in the frozen climes of ancient scythia, what may not be expected from us, in kingdoms where the accumulated labours of many ages have rendered the way so easy?' original pieces relative to this history, agreeable to the translations made at their first publication, by order of czar peter i. sentence _pronounced against the czarowitz alexis, june th, ._ by virtue of an express ordinance issued by his czarish majesty, and signed by his own hand, on the th of june, for the judgment of the czarowitz alexis petrowitz, in relation to his crimes and transgressions against his father and sovereign; the undernamed ministers and senators, estates military and civil, after having assembled several times in the regency chamber of the senate of petersburg, and having heard read the original writings and testimonies given against the czarowitz, as also his majesty's admonitory letters to that prince, and his answers to them in his own writing, and other acts relating to the process, and likewise the criminal informations, declarations and confessions of the czarowitz, partly written with his own hand, and partly delivered by word of mouth to his father and sovereign, before the several persons undernamed, constituted by his czarish majesty's authority to the effect of the present judgment, do acknowledge and declare, that though according to the laws of the russian empire, it belongs not to them, the natural subjects of his czarish majesty's sovereign dominions, to take cognizance of an affair of this nature, which for its importance depends solely on the absolute will of the sovereign, whose power, unlimited by any law, is derived from god alone; yet, in submission to his ordinance who hath given them this liberty, and after mature reflection, observing the dictates of their consciences without fear, flattery, or respect of persons, having nothing before their eyes but the divine laws applicable to the present case, the canons and rules of councils, the authority of the holy fathers and doctors of the church, and taking also for their rule the instruction of the archbishops and clergy assembled at petersburg on this occasion, and conforming themselves to the laws and constitutions of this empire, which are agreeable to those of other nations, especially the greeks and the romans, and other christian princes; they unanimously agreed and pronounced the czarowitz alexis petrowitz _to be worthy of death_, for the aforesaid crimes and capital transgressions against his sovereign and father, he being his czarish majesty's son and subject; and that, notwithstanding the promise given by his czarish majesty to the czarowitz, in a letter sent by m. tolstoy and captain romanzoff, dated from spaw, the th of july, , to pardon his elopement if he voluntarily returned, as the czarowitz himself acknowledges with gratitude, in his answer to that letter, dated from naples, the th of october, , wherein he returns thanks to his majesty for the pardon he had promised him solely on condition of his speedy and voluntary return; yet he hath forfeited and rendered himself unworthy of that pardon, by renewing and continuing his former transgressions, as is fully set forth in his majesty's manifesto of the d of february, in this present year, and for not returning voluntarily and of his own accord. and although his majesty did, upon the arrival of the czarowitz at moscow, and his humbly confessing in writing his crimes, and asking pardon for them, take pity on him, as is natural for every father to act towards a son, and at the audience, held in the great hall of the castle, dated the said d day of february, did promise him full pardon for all his crimes and transgressions, it was only on condition that he would declare, without reserve or restriction, all his designs, and who were his counsellors and abettors therein, but that if he concealed any one person or thing, that in such case the promised pardon should be null and void, which conditions the czarowitz did at that time accept and receive, with all outward tokens of gratitude and obedience, solemnly swearing on the holy cross and the blessed evangelists, and in the presence of all those assembled at that time and for that purpose in the cathedral church, that he would faithfully, and without reserve, declare the whole truth. his majesty did also the next day confirm to the czarowitz in writing the said promise, in the interrogatories which hereafter follow, and which his majesty caused to be delivered to him, having first written at the begining what follows: 'as you did yesterday receive your pardon, on condition that you would confess all the circumstances of your flight, and whatever relates thereto; but if you concealed any part thereof, you should answer for it with your life; and, as you have already made some confessions, it is expected of you, for our more full satisfaction, and your own safety, to commit the same to writing, in such order as shall in the course of your examination be pointed out to you.' and at the end, under the seventh question, there was again written, with his czarish majesty's own hand: 'declare to us, and discover whatever hath any relation to this affair, though it be not here expressed, and clear yourself as if it were at confession; for if you conceal any thing that shall by any other means be afterwards discovered, do not impute the consequence to us, since you have been already told, that in such case the pardon granted you should be null and void.' notwithstanding all which, the answers and confessions of the czarowitz were delivered without any sincerity; he not only concealing many of his accomplices, but also the capital circumstances relating to his own transgressions, particularly his rebellious design in usurping the throne even in the life-time of his father, flattering himself that the populace would declare in his favour; all which hath since been fully discovered in the criminal process, after he had refused to make a discovery himself, as hath appeared by the above presents. thus it hath appeared by the whole conduct of the czarowitz, as well as by the confessions which he both delivered in writing, and by word of mouth, particularly, that he was not disposed to wait for the succession in the manner in which his father had left it to him after his death, according to equity, and the order of nature which god has established; but intended to take the crown off the head of his father, while living, and set it upon his own, not only by a civil insurrection, but by the assistance of a foreign force, which he had actually requested. the czarowitz has hereby rendered himself unworthy of the clemency and pardon, promised him by the emperor his father; and since the laws divine and ecclesiastical, civil and military, condemn to death, without mercy, not only those whose attempts against their father and sovereign have been proved by testimonies and writings; but even such as have been convicted of an intention to rebel, and of having formed a base design to kill their sovereign, and usurp the throne; what shall we think of a rebellious design, almost unparalleled in history, joined to that of a horrid parricide, against him who was his father in a double capacity; a father of great lenity and indulgence, who brought up the czarowitz from the cradle with more than paternal care and tenderness; who earnestly endeavoured to form him for government, and with incredible pains, and indefatigable application, to instruct him in the military art, and qualify him to succeed to so great an empire? with how much stronger reason does such a design deserve to be punished with death? it is therefore with hearts full of affliction, and eyes streaming with tears, that we, as subjects and servants, pronounce this sentence; considering that it belongs not to us to give judgment in a case of so great importance, and especially to pronounce against the son of our most precious sovereign lord the czar. nevertheless, it being his pleasure that we should act in this capacity, we, by these presents, declare our real opinion, and pronounce this sentence of condemnation with a pure and christian conscience, as we hope to be able to answer for it at the just, awful, and impartial tribunal of almighty god. we submit, however, this sentence, which we now pass, to the sovereign power, the will, and merciful revisal of his czarish majesty, our most gracious sovereign. the peace of nystadt. in the name of the most holy and undivided trinity. be it known by these presents, that whereas a bloody, long, and expensive war has arisen and subsisted for several years past, between his late majesty king charles xii. of glorious memory, king of sweden, of the goths, and vandals, &c. &c. his successors to the throne of sweden, the lady ulrica queen of sweden, of the goths and vandals, &c. and the kingdom of sweden, on the one part; and between his czarish majesty peter the first, emperor of all the russias, &c. and the empire of russia, on the other part; the two powers have thought proper to exert their endeavours to find out means to put a period to those troubles, and prevent the further effusion of so much innocent blood; and it has pleased the almighty to dispose the hearts of both powers, to appoint a meeting of their ministers plenipotentiary, to treat of, and conclude a firm, sincere and lasting peace, and perpetual friendship between the two powers, their dominions, provinces, countries, vassals, subjects, and inhabitants; namely, mr. john liliensted, one of the most honourable privy-council to his majesty the king of sweden, his kingdom and chancery, and baron otto reinhold stroemfeld, intendant of the copper mines and fiefs of dalders, on the part of his said majesty; and on the part of his czarish majesty, count jacob daniel bruce, his general adjutant, president of the colleges of mines and manufactories, and knight of the order of st. andrew and the white eagle, and mr. henry john frederic osterman, one of his said majesty's privy-counsellors in his chancery: which plenipotentiary ministers, being assembled at nystadt, and having communicated to each other their respective commissions, and imploring the divine assistance, did enter upon this important and salutary enterprise, and have, by the grace and blessing of god, concluded the following peace between the crown of sweden and his czarish majesty. art. . there shall be now and henceforward a perpetual and inviolable peace, sincere union, and indissoluble friendship, between his majesty frederic the first, king of sweden, of the goths and vandals, his successors to the crown and kingdom of sweden, his dominions, provinces, countries, villages, vassals, subjects, and inhabitants, as well within the roman empire as out of said empire, on the one side; and his czarish majesty peter the first, emperor of all the russias, &c. his successors to the throne of russia, and all his countries, villages, vassals, subjects, and inhabitants, on the other side; in such wise, that for the future, neither of the two reconciled powers shall commit, or suffer to be committed, any hostility, either privately or publicly, directly or indirectly, nor shall in any wise assist the enemies of each other, on any pretext whatever, not contract any alliance with them, that may be contrary to this peace, but shall always maintain and preserve a sincere friendship towards each other, and as much as in them lies, support their mutual honour, advantage and safety; as likewise prevent, to the utmost of their power, any injury or vexation with which either of the reconciled parties may be threatened by any other power. art. . it is further mutually agreed upon betwixt the two parties, that a general pardon and act of oblivion for all hostilities committed during the war, either by arms or otherwise, shall be strictly observed, so far as that neither party shall ever henceforth either call to mind, or take vengeance for the same, particularly in regard to persons of state, and subjects who have entered into the service of either of the two parties during the war, and have thereby become enemies to the other, except only the russian cossacks, who enlisted in the service of the king of sweden, and whom his czarish majesty will not consent to have included in the said general pardon, notwithstanding the intercession made for them by the king of sweden. art. . all hostilities, both by sea and land, shall cease both here and in the grand duchy of finland in fifteen days, or sooner, if possible, after the regular exchange of the ratifications; and to this intent the conclusion of the peace shall be published without delay. and in case that, after the expiration of the said term, any hostilities should be committed by either party, either by sea or land, in any manner whatsoever, through ignorance of the conclusion of the peace, such offence shall by no means prejudice the conclusion of said peace; on the contrary, each shall make a reciprocal exchange of both men and effects that may be taken after the said term. art. . his majesty the king of sweden does, by the present treaty, as well for himself as for his successors to the throne and kingdom of sweden, cede to his czarish majesty, and his successors to the russian empire, in full, irrevocable and everlasting possession, the provinces which have been taken by his czarish majesty's arms from the crown of sweden during this war, viz. livonia, esthonia, ingria, and a part of carelia, as likewise the district of the fiefs of wybourg specified hereafter in the article for regulating the limits; the towns and fortresses of riga, dunamund, pernau, revel, dorpt, nerva, wybourg, kexholm, and the other towns, fortresses, harbours, countries, districts, rivers, and coasts, belonging to the provinces: as likewise the islands of oesel, dagoe, moen, and all the other islands from the frontiers of courland, towards the coasts of livonia, esthonia, and ingria, and on the east side of revel, and in the road of wybourg, towards the south-east, with all the present inhabitants of those islands, and of the aforesaid provinces, towns, and countries; and in general, all their appurtenances, dependencies, prerogatives, rights, and advantages, without exception, in like manner as the crown of sweden possessed them. to which purpose, his majesty the king of sweden renounces for ever, in the most solemn manner, as well for his own part, as for his successors, and for the whole kingdom of sweden, all pretensions which they have hitherto had, or could have, to the said provinces, islands, countries, and towns; and all the inhabitants thereof shall, by virtue of these presents, be discharged from the oath of allegiance, which they have taken to the crown of sweden, in such wise as that his swedish majesty, and the kingdom of sweden, shall never hereafter either claim or demand the same, on any pretence whatsoever; but, on the contrary, they shall be and remain incorporated for ever into the empire of russia. moreover, his swedish majesty, and the kingdom of sweden, promise by these presents to assist and support from henceforth his czarish majesty, and his successors to the empire of russia, in the peaceable possession of the said provinces, islands, countries, and towns; and that they will find out and deliver up to the persons authorized by his czarish majesty for that purpose, all the records and papers principally belonging to those places which have been taken away and carried into sweden during the war. art . his czarish majesty, in return, promises to evacuate and restore to his swedish majesty, and the kingdom of sweden, within the space of four weeks after the exchange of the ratifications of this treaty, or sooner if possible, the grand duchy of finland, except only that part thereof which has been reserved by the following regulation of the limits which shall belong to his czarish majesty, so that his said czarish majesty, and his successors, never shall have or bring the least claim or demand on the said duchy, on any pretence whatever. his czarish majesty further declares and promises, that certain and prompt payment of two millions of crowns shall be made without any discount to the deputies of the king of sweden, on condition that they produce and give sufficient receipts, as agreed upon; and the said payment shall be made in such coin as shall be agreed upon by a separate article, which shall be of equal force as if inserted in the body of this treaty. art. . his majesty the king of sweden does further reserve to himself, in regard to trade, the liberty of buying corn yearly at riga, revel, and arensbourg, to the amount of fifty thousand rubles, which corn shall be transported from thence into sweden, without paying duty or any other taxes, on producing a certificate, shewing that such corn has been purchased for the use of his swedish majesty, or by his subjects, charged with the care of making this purchase by his said majesty; and such right shall not be subject to, or depend on any exigency, wherein his czarish majesty may find it necessary, either on account of a bad harvest, or some other important reasons, to prohibit in general the exportation of corn to any other nation. art. . his czarish majesty does also promise, in the most solemn manner, that he will in no wise interfere with the private affairs of the kingdom of sweden, nor with the form of government, which has been regulated and established by the oath of allegiance, and unanimous consent of the states of said kingdom; neither will he assist therein any person whatever, in any manner, directly or indirectly; but, on the contrary, will endeavour to hinder and prevent any disturbance happening, provided his czarish majesty has timely notice of the same, who will on all such occasions act as a sincere friend and good neighbour to the crown of sweden. art. . and as they mutually intend to establish a firm sincere and lasting peace, to which purpose it is very necessary to regulate the limits so, that neither of the parties can harbour any jealousy, but that each shall peaceably possess whatever has been surrendered to him by this treaty of peace, they have thought proper to declare, that the two empires shall from henceforth and for ever have the following limits, beginning on the northern coast of the bothnic gulf, near wickolax, from whence they shall extend to within half a league of the sea-coast inland, and from the distance of half a league from the sea as far as opposite to willayoki, and from thence further inland; so that from the sea-side, and opposite to rohel, there shall be a distance of about three-quarters of a league, in a direct line, to the road which leads from wibourg to lapstrand, at three leagues distance from wibourg, and which proceeds the same distance of three leagues towards the north by wibourg, in a direct line to the former limits between russia and sweden, even before the reduction of the district of kexholm under the government of the king of sweden. those ancient limits extend eight leagues towards the north, from thence they run in a direct line through the district of kexholm, to the place where the harbour of porogerai, which begins near the town of kudumagube, joins to the ancient limits, between russia and sweden, so that his majesty the king and kingdom of sweden, shall henceforth possess all that part lying west and north beyond the above specified limits, and his czarish majesty and the empire of russia all that part which is situated east and south of the said limits. and as his czarish majesty surrenders from henceforth to his swedish majesty and the kingdom of sweden, a part of the district of kexholm, which belonged heretofore to the empire of russia, he promises, in the most solemn manner, in regard to himself and successors to the throne of russia, that he never will make any future claim to this said district of kexholm, on any account whatever; but the said district shall hereafter be and remain incorporated into the kingdom of sweden. as to the limits in the country of lamparque, they shall remain on the same footing as they were before the beginning of this war between the two empires. it is further agreed upon, that commissaries shall be appointed by each party, immediately after the ratification of this treaty to regulate the limits as aforesaid. art. . his czarish majesty further promises to maintain all the inhabitants of the provinces of livonia, esthonia, and oesel, as well nobles as plebeians, and the towns, magistrates, companies, and trades, in the full enjoyment of the said privileges, customs and prerogatives, which they have enjoyed under the dominion of his swedish majesty. art. . there shall not hereafter be any violence offered to the consciences of the inhabitants of the ceded countries; on the contrary, his czarish majesty engages on his side to preserve and maintain the evangelical (lutheran) religion on the same footing as under the swedish government, provided there is likewise a free liberty of conscience allowed to those of the greek religion. art. . in regard to the reductions and liquidations made in the reign of the late king of sweden in livonia, esthonia, and oesel, to the great injury of the subjects and inhabitants of those countries, which, conformable to the justice of the affair in question, obliged his late majesty the king of sweden, of glorious memory, to promise, by an ordinance (which was published the th day of april, , that if any one of his subjects could fairly prove, that the goods which had been confiscated were their property justice should be done them, whereby several subjects of the said countries have had such their confiscated effects restored to them) his czarish majesty engages and promises, that justice shall be done to every person, whether residing or not, who has a just claim or pretension to any lands in livonia, esthonia, or the province of oesel, and can make full proof thereof, and that such person shall be reinstated in the possession of his lands and effects. art. . there shall likewise be immediate restitution made, conformable to the general amnesty regulated and agreed by the second article, to such of the inhabitants of livonia, esthonia, and the island of oesel, who may during this war have joined the king of sweden, together with all their effects, lands, and houses, which have been confiscated and given to others, as well in the towns of these provinces, as in those of narva and wibourg, notwithstanding they may have passed during the said war by inheritance or otherwise into other hands, with any exception or restraint, even though the proprietors should be actually in sweden, either as prisoners or otherwise; and such restitution shall take place so soon as each person is re-naturalized by his respective government, and produces his documents relating to his right; on the other hand, these proprietors shall by no means lay claim to, or pretend to any part of, the revenues, which may have been received by those who were in possession in consequence of the confiscation, nor to any other compensation for their losses in the war or otherwise. and all persons, who are thus put in re-possession of their effects and lands, shall be obliged to do homage to his czarish majesty, their present sovereign, and further to behave themselves as faithful vassals and subjects; and when they have taken the usual oath of allegiance, they shall be at liberty to leave their own country to go and live in any other, which is in alliance and friendship with the russian empire, as also to enter into the service of neutral powers, or to continue therein, if already engaged, as they shall think proper. on the other hand, in regard to those, who do not choose to do homage to his czarish majesty, they shall be allowed the space of three years from the publication of the peace, to sell or dispose of their effects, lands, and all belonging to them, to the best advantage, without paying any more than is paid by every other person, agreeably to the laws and statutes of the country. and if hereafter, it should happen that an inheritance should devolve to any person according to the laws of the country, and that such person shall not as yet have taken the oath of allegiance to his czarish majesty, he shall in such case be obliged to take the same at the time of entering on the possession of his inheritance, otherwise to sell off all his effects in the space of one year. also those who have advanced money on lands in livonia, esthonia, and the island of oesel, and have lawful security for the same, shall enjoy their mortgages peaceably, until both capital and interest are discharged; on the other hand, the mortgages shall not claim any interest, which expired during the war, and which have not been demanded or paid; but those who in either of these cases have the administration of the said effects, shall be obliged to do homage to his czarish majesty. this likewise extends to all those who remain in his czarish majesty's dominions, and who shall have the same liberty to dispose of their effects in sweden, and in those countries which have been surrendered to that crown by this peace. moreover, the subjects of each of the reconciled powers shall be mutually supported in all their lawful claims and demands, whether on the public, or on individuals within the dominions of the two powers, and immediate justice shall be done them, so that every person may be reinstated in the possession of what justly belongs to him. art. . all contributions in money shall from the signing of this treaty cease in the grand duchy of finland, which his czarish majesty by the fifth article of this treaty cedes to his swedish majesty and the kingdom of sweden; on the other hand the duchy of finland shall furnish his czarish majesty's troops with the necessary provisions and forage gratis, until they shall have entirely evacuated the said duchy, on the said footing as has been practised heretofore; and his czarish majesty shall prohibit and forbid, under the severest penalties, the dislodging any ministers or peasants of the finnish nation, contrary to their inclinations, or that the least injury be done to them. in consideration of which, and as it will be permitted his czarish majesty, upon evacuating the said countries and towns, to take with him his great and small cannon, with their carriages and other appurtenances, and the magazines and other warlike stores which he shall think fit. the inhabitants shall furnish a sufficient number of horse and waggons as far as the frontiers; and also, if the whole of this cannot be executed according to the stipulated terms, and that any part of such artillery, &c. is necessitated to be left behind, then, and in such cases, that which is so left shall be properly taken care of, and afterwards delivered to his czarish majesty's deputies, whenever it shall be agreeable to them, and likewise be transported to the frontiers in manner as above. if his czarish majesty's troops shall have found and sent out of the country any deeds or papers belonging to the grand duchy of finland, strict search shall be made for the same, and all of them that can be found shall be faithfully restored to deputies of his swedish majesty. art. . all the prisoners on each side, of whatsoever nation, rank, and condition, shall be set at liberty immediately after the ratification of this treaty, without any ransom, at the same time every prisoner shall either pay or give sufficient security for the payment of all debts by them contracted. the prisoners on each side shall be furnished with the necessary horses and waggons gratis during the time allotted for their return home, in proportion to the distance from the frontiers. in regard to such prisoners, who shall have sided with one or the other party, or who shall choose to settle in the dominions of either of the two powers, they shall have full liberty so to do without restriction: and this liberty shall likewise extend to all those who have been compelled to serve either party during the war, who may in like manner remain where they are, or return home; except such who have voluntarily embraced the greek religion, in compliance to his czarish majesty; for which purpose each party shall order that the edicts be published and made known in their respective dominions. art. . his majesty the king, and the republic of poland, as allies to his czarish majesty, are expressly comprehended in this treaty of peace, and have equal right thereto, as if the treaty of peace between them and the crown of sweden had been inserted here at full length: to which purpose all hostilities whatsoever shall cease in general throughout all the kingdoms, countries, and patrimonies belonging to the two reconciled parties, whether situated within or out of the roman empire, and there shall be a solid and lasting peace established between the two aforesaid powers. and as no plenipotentiary on the part of his polish majesty and the republic of poland has assisted at this treaty of peace, held at nystadt, and that consequently they could not at one and the same time renew the peace by a solemn treaty between his majesty the king of poland and the crown of sweden, his majesty the king of sweden does therefore engage and promise, that he will send plenipotentiaries to open the conferences, so soon as a place shall be appointed for the said meeting, in order to conclude, through the mediation of his czarish majesty, a lasting peace between the two crowns, provided nothing is therein contained which may be prejudicial to the treaty of perpetual peace made with his czarish majesty. art. . a free trade shall be regulated and established as soon as possible, which shall subsist both by sea and land between the two powers, their dominions, subjects, and inhabitants, by means of a separate treaty on this head, to the good and advantage of their respective dominions; and in the mean time the subjects of russia and sweden shall have leave to trade freely in the empire of russia and kingdom of sweden, so soon as the treaty of peace is ratified, after paying the usual duties on the several kinds of merchandise; so that, the subjects of russia and sweden shall reciprocally enjoy the same privileges and prerogatives as are enjoyed by the closest friends of either of the said states. art. . restitution shall be made on both sides, after the ratification of the peace, not only of the magazines which were before the commencement of the war established in certain trading towns belonging to the two powers, but also liberty shall be reciprocally granted to the subjects of his czarish majesty and the king of sweden to establish magazines in the towns, harbours, and other places subject to both or either of the said powers. art. . if any swedish ships of war or merchant vessels shall have the misfortune to be wrecked, or cast away by stress of weather, or any other accident, on the coasts and harbours of russia, his czarish majesty's subjects shall be obliged to give them all aid and assistance in their power to save their rigging and effects, and faithfully to restore whatever may be drove on shore, if demanded, provided they are properly rewarded. and the subjects of his majesty the king of sweden shall do the same in regard to such russian ships and effects as may have the misfortune to be wrecked or otherwise lost on the coasts of sweden; for which purpose, and to prevent all ill treatment, robbing, and plundering, which commonly happens on such melancholy occasions, his czarish majesty and the king of sweden will cause a most rigorous prohibition to be issued, and all who shall be found transgressing in this point shall be punished on the spot. art. . and to prevent all possible cause or occasion of misunderstanding between the two parties, in relation to sea affairs, they have concluded and determined, that any swedish ships of war, of whatever number or size, that shall hereafter pass by any of his czarish majesty's forts or castles, shall salute the same with their cannon, which compliment shall be directly returned in the same manner by the russian fort or castle; and, _vice versa_, any russian ships of war, of whatever number or size, that shall hereafter pass by any fort or castle belonging to his swedish majesty, shall salute the same with a discharge of their cannon, which compliment shall be instantly returned in the same manner by the swedish fort; and in case any one or more swedish and russian ships shall meet at sea, or in any harbour or elsewhere, they shall salute each other with a common discharge, as is usually practised on such occasions between the ships of sweden and denmark. art. . it is mutually agreed between the two powers, no longer to defray the expenses of the ministers of the two powers, as have been done hitherto; but their representative ministers, plenipotentiaries, and envoys, shall hereafter defray their own expenses and those of their own attendants, as well on their journey as during their stay, and back to their respective place of residence. on the other hand, either of the two parties, on receiving timely notice of the arrival of an envoy, shall order that their subjects give them all the assistance that may be necessary to escort them safe on their journey. art. . his majesty the king of sweden does on his part comprehend his majesty the king of great britain in this treaty of peace, reserving only the differences subsisting between their czarish and his britannic majesties, which they shall immediately endeavour to terminate in a friendly manner; and such other powers, who shall be named by the two reconciled parties within the space of three months, shall likewise be included in this treaty of peace. art. . in case any misunderstanding shall hereafter arise between the states and subjects of sweden and russia, it shall by no means prejudice this treaty of perpetual peace; which shall nevertheless always be and remain in full force agreeable to its intent, and commissaries shall without delay be appointed on each side to inquire into and adjust all disputes. art. . all those who have been guilty of high treason, murder, theft, and other crimes, and those who deserted from sweden to russia, and from russia to sweden, either singly or with their wives and children, shall be immediately sent back, provided the complaining party of the country from whence they made their escape, shall think fit to recal them, let them be of what nation soever, and in the same condition as they were at their arrival, together with their wives and children, as likewise with all they had stolen, plundered, or taken away with them in their flight. art. . the exchange of the ratification of this treaty of peace, shall be reciprocally made at nystadt within the space of three weeks, after the day of signing the same, or sooner, if possible. in witness whereof, two copies of this treaty, exactly corresponding with each other, have been drawn up, and confirmed by the plenipotentiary ministers on each side, in virtue of the authority they have received from their respective sovereigns; which copies they have signed with their own hands, and sealed with their own seals. done at nystadt, this th day of august, in the year of our lord . o. s. jean liliensted. otto reinhold stroemfeld. jacob daniel bruce. henry-john-frederic osterman. _ordinance of the emperor peter i. for the crowning of the empress catherine._ we, peter the first, emperor and autocrator of all the russias, &c. to all our officers ecclesiastical, civil, and military, and all others of the russian nation, our faithful subjects. no one can be ignorant that it has been a constant and invariable custom among the monarchs of all christian states, to cause their consorts to be crowned, and that the same is at present practised, and hath frequently been in former times by those emperors who professed the holy faith of the greek church; to wit, by the emperor basilides, who caused his wife zenobia to be crowned; the emperor justinian, his wife lucipina; the emperor heraclius, his wife martina: the emperor leo, the philosopher, his wife mary; and many others, who have in like manner placed the imperial crown on the head of their consorts, and whom it would be too tedious here to enumerate. it is also well known to every one how much we have exposed our person, and faced the greatest dangers, for the good of our country during the one and twenty years' course of the late war, which we have by the assistance of god terminated in so honourable and advantageous a manner, that russia hath never beheld such a peace, nor ever acquired so great glory as in the late war. now the empress catherine, our dearly beloved wife, having greatly comforted and assisted us during the said war, and also in several other our expeditions, wherein she voluntarily and cheerfully accompanied us, assisting us with her counsel and advice in every exigence, notwithstanding the weakness of her sex, particularly in the battle against the turks, on the banks of the river pruth, wherein our army was reduced to twenty thousand men, while that of the turks amounted to two hundred and seventy thousand, and on which desperate occasion she signalized herself in a particular manner, by a courage and presence of mind superior to her sex, which is well known to all our army, and to the whole russian empire: therefore, for these reasons, and in virtue of the power which god has given us, we have resolved to honour our said consort catherine with the imperial crown, as a reward for her painful services; and we propose, god willing, that this ceremony shall be performed the ensuing winter at moscow. and we do hereby give notice of this our resolution to all who are faithful subjects, in favour of whom our imperial affection is unalterable. the end. _s. johnson & son, printers, livesey st., manchester._ footnotes: [ ] a french league contains three english miles. [ ] the boristhenes, or dnieper, is one of the largest rivers in europe; it rises in the walchonske forest, runs through lithuania, the country of the zoporag cossacks, and that of the nagisch tartars, and falls into the black sea near oczakow. it has thirteen cataracts within a small distance. [ ] the reader will easily perceive, that the whole of this paragraph relates only to the french language, for in english we make no such distinctions in the name of these people, but always call them russians. [ ] a collection of water lying between the gulf of finland and lake onega; it is the largest, and said to contain a greater number of fish than any other in europe. [ ] we must not confound this river with another of the same name that runs through lithuania in poland, and dividing livonia and courland, falls into the baltic at dunamunder fort, below riga. [ ] this was by the ancients reckoned among the most famous rivers in the world, and the boundary between asia and europe. it issues from st. john's lake, not far from tula, and after a long course, divides itself into three arms, and falls into the sea below azoph. [ ] a promontory of the island of maggero in the north of norway, and is the most northern point in europe. [ ] grod, or gorod, signifies city in the russian language. [ ] memoirs of strahlemberg, confirmed by those sent me from russia. [ ] memoirs sent from petersburg. [ ] memoirs sent from petersburg. [ ] called also the ob. this large river issues from the lake altin in calmuck tartary, in asia, from whence running north it forms the boundary between europe and asia, and after traversing a vast tract of above two thousand miles, it falls into a bay of the frozen sea. [ ] in the russian language irtish. this river runs from n. to s. through all russia, and falling into the former river, forms part of the boundary between asia and europe. [ ] in the russian language tobolsky. [ ] his name was sowastowslaw. [ ] this anecdote is taken from a private ms. entitled 'the ecclesiastical government of russia,' which is like wise deposited in the public library. [ ] see page . [ ] thus the russians call this young man; but in all french authors we find romano, that language having no such letter as the w; others again call him romanoff. [ ] or chotsin, a town of upper moldavia in european turkey, well fortified both by nature and art, situated on the dniester, and subject to the turks, from whom it was taken by the russians in . [ ] this must certainly be a mistake of m. de voltaire, or an error in the press; for the lady here spoken of was the daughter of matthias apraxim, a person on whom theodore had lately conferred nobility. [ ] extracted wholly from the memoirs sent from moscow and petersburg. [ ] here m. de voltaire seems to have greatly mistaken the sense of this word. raspop not being a proper name, in which sense he takes it, but signifies a degraded priest. [ ] we suppose the author means moscow. [ ] or cossano, a small town and abbey in the milanese. on the adda, near this place, an obstinate battle was fought between the germans and french, in , when prince eugene defeated the duke of vendome. [ ] a town and abbey on the borders of westphalia, in germany; the abbot of which is a sovereign prince, and has a seat in the imperial diet. [ ] or fuld, a town and abbey of hesse, in germany; situate on a river of the same name. it is governed by an abbot, who is a prince of the empire. [ ] an imperial city of suabia, in germany, situate on the ifar. [ ] how are we to reconcile this with what the author tells us in the latter part of the third chapter, where he says, that this princess, perceiving that her brother theodore was near his end, declined retiring to a convent, as was the usual custom of the princesses of the imperial family. [ ] we find, in the memoirs of count strahlemberg, a swedish officer, who was taken prisoner at the battle of pultowa, and continued many years at the court of czar peter, the following account of the true cause of this extraordinary kind of hydrophobia. when peter was about five years of age, his mother took him with her in a coach for an airing, and having to pass a dam, where there was a great fall of water the child, who was then sleeping in his nurse's lap, was so terrified by the rushing of the water (the noise of which waked him suddenly out of his sleep), that he was seized with a violent fever, and, after his recovery, he retained such a dread of that element, that he could not bear the sight even of any standing water, much less to hear a running stream. [ ] memoirs of petersburg and moscow. [ ] this should certainly be four years; as we can hardly suppose a boy of fourteen years and a half, would be received into the military service of any country, and much less by the dutch at that period of time, when they stood in need of able and experienced soldiers, to withstand the attacks of the french, who breathed nothing less than the utter subversion of their state. [ ] general le fort's mss. [ ] general le fort's mss. [ ] extracted from memoirs sent from china; also from petersburg, and from letters published in du halde's history of china. [ ] a famous and considerable river of the asiatic part of the empire of russia, which falls into the eastern ocean. it was formerly called charan muran, but at present the chinese and mauschurs give it the name of sagalin ula. it also bears the several appellations of jamur, onon, helong, kiang, and skilka. it is formed by the junction of the rivers sckilk and argun, and is navigable to the sea. [ ] busching, the famous geographer, says, that its whole length is no more than four hundred miles, so that there must be a very great error in one or other of these authors. [ ] memoirs of the jesuits pereira and gerbillon. [ ] , sept. , new style. memoirs of china. [ ] the present reigning empress catharine seems even to exceed her aunt in lenity, which together with the superior qualifications of this princess, affords her people the most happy presage of a glorious reign; and it is not without reason, that the most sensible amongst them flatter themselves with the hope, that under this august princess, the russian empire will arrive at its highest pinnacle of glory. [ ] le fort's memoirs. [ ] it is in consequence of this glorious and equitable distinction, that at this day we find nobility gives no precedence in the court of russia; nor can the son of a prince appear there in any other rank, than that which his situation in the army gives him; while a private citizen, who by his merit has raised himself above his condition, receives all the honours due to his post; or more properly speaking, to the merit which obtained him that post. a reputation of this kind would, methinks, be attended with great advantages, both in england and france, as it would be a means to raise in the youth of all ranks, a virtuous and noble emulation. [ ] general le fort's mss. [ ] the petersburg memoirs, and memoirs of le fort. [ ] le fort's ms. memoirs. [ ] precop, or perekop, once a fortress on the isthmus, which joins the peninsula of crim tartary to the main land of little tartary, in european turkey, and thence considered as the key to that country. it has its name from the ditches cut across for the defence of the peninsula. [ ] these were two scholars from christ church hospital, commonly called blue coat boys. [ ] the czar was particularly fond of this nobleman, because he was a great lover of maritime affairs, frequently rowed and sailed with him upon the water, and gave him what information he could concerning shipping. [ ] le fort's mss. and those of petersburg. [ ] le fort's mss. [ ] a most extraordinary instance of the obstinate attachment of the russians to their old customs, happened in the time of the czar bassilowitz, and undoubtedly influenced him not a little in the severity with which he treated his people. the king of poland, stephen battori, having recovered livonia, went himself into that province to establish a new form of government. according to the constant custom there, when any peasant, all of whom were treated as slaves, had committed a fault, he was whipped with a rod till the blood came. the king was willing to commute this barbarous punishment for one that was more moderate; but the peasants, insensible of the favour designed them, threw themselves at his feet, and intreated him not to make any alterations in their ancient customs, because they had experienced, that all innovations, far from procuring them the least redress, had always made their burthens sit the heavier on them. [ ] memoirs of captain perry, the engineer, employed by peter the great, in russia, and mss. of le fort. [ ] captain perry, in p. of his memoirs, says, that these executions being performed in the depth of winter, their bodies were immediately frozen; those who were beheaded, were ordered to be left in the same posture as when executed, in ranks upon the ground, with their heads lying by them: and those who were hanged round the three walls of the city, were left hanging the whole winter, to the view of the people, till the warm weather began to come on in the spring, when they were taken down and buried together in a pit, to prevent infection. this author adds, that there were other gibbets placed on all the public roads leading to moscow, where others of these rebels were hanged. [ ] mss. of le fort. [ ] somewhat like those of our blue coat boys in england. [ ] th sept. . it is to be observed, that i always follow the new style in my dates. [ ] norberg, chaplain and confessor to charles xii. says, in his history, 'that he had the insolence to complain of oppressions, and that he was condemned to lose his honour and life.' this is speaking like the high-priest of despotism. he should have observed, that no one can deprive a citizen of his honour for doing his duty. [ ] see the history of charles xii. [ ] a town on the river lycus, in the province of assyria, now called curdestan, where alexander the great fought his third and decisive battle, with darius, king of persia. [ ] vol. i. p. , of the to. edition, printed at the hague. [ ] the chaplain norberg, pretends, that, immediately after the battle of narva, the grand seignior wrote a letter of congratulation to the king of sweden, in these terms. 'the sultan basha, by the grace of god, to charles xii. &c.' the letter was dated from the æra of the creation of the world. [ ] see history of charles xii. [ ] this chapter and the following, are taken entirely from the journal of peter the great, sent me from petersburg. [ ] we must beg leave to remark in this place, that a king of england has the power of doing good in virtue of his own authority, and may do evil if so disposed, by having a majority in a corrupt parliament; whereas, a king of poland can neither do good nor evil, not having it in his power to dispose even of a pair of colours. [ ] this seems a mistake; our author probably meant to say kercholme, because wibourg is not on the lake ladoga, but on the gulf of finland. [ ] taken from the journal of peter the great. [ ] some writers call it nyenschantz. [ ] petersburg was founded on whitsunday, the th may, . [ ] about sixty thousand pounds sterling. [ ] all the foregoing chapters, and likewise those which follow, are taken from the journals of peter the great, and the papers sent me from petersburg, carefully compared with other memoirs. [ ] menzikoff's parents were vassals of the monastery of cosmopoly: at the age of thirteen, he went to moscow, and was taken into the service of a pastry-cook. his employment was singing ballads, and crying puffs and cakes about the streets. one day, as he was following this occupation, the czar happening to hear him, and to be diverted with one of his songs, sent for him, and asked him if he would sell his pies and his basket? the boy answered, that his business was to sell his pies, but he must ask his master's leave to sell his basket; yet as every thing belonged to his prince, his majesty had only to lay his commands upon him. the czar was so pleased with this answer, that he immediately ordered him to court, where he gave him at first a mean employment; but being every day more pleased with his wit, he thought fit to place him about his person, and to make him groom of his bed-chamber, from whence he gradually raised him to the highest preferments. he was tall and well shaped. at his first coming into the czar's service, he inlisted in le fort's company, and acquired, under that general's instruction, such a degree of knowledge and skill, as enabled him to command armies, and to become one of the bravest and most successful generals in russia. [ ] m. de voltaire calls this city wibourg, in this and some other places of his history. the french are not always very attentive to the right names of places, but here it is of some consequence. wibourg is the capital of jutland in denmark. wiburn, the city here meant, is the capital of carelia in russian finland. [ ] the czar's manifesto in the ukraine, . [ ] the impartiality of an historian obliges us in this place to advertise our readers, that it was not the fault of augustus, that patkul was delivered up to the king of sweden; augustus having privately sent orders to the commandant of the fort of konigstein, where patkul was then confined, to suffer his prisoner to make his escape in time. but the avarice of this officer proved fatal to the life of the unhappy captive, and to the character of his own prince; for while he was endeavouring to make the best bargain he could for himself, the time slipped inconceivably away; and while they were yet debating upon the price of the proposed releasement, the guards sent by charles came and demanded patkul in the name of their sovereign. the commandant was forced to obey, and the unhappy victim was delivered up, contrary to the intentions of augustus. [ ] what would those swedes say, were they living, to see the pitiful figure their descendants have made in this war. [ ] in the russian language, soeza. [ ] this is acknowledged by norberg himself, vol. ii. p. . [ ] vol. ii. page . [ ] the memoirs of peter the great, by the pretended boyard iwan nestesuranoy, printed at amsterdam, in , say, that the king of sweden, before he passed the boristhenes, sent a general officer with proposals of peace to the czar. the four volumes of these memoirs are either a collection of untruths and absurdities, or compilations from common newspapers. [ ] this fact is likewise found in a letter, printed before the anecdotes of russia, p. . [ ] la motraye, in the relation of his travels, quotes a letter from charles xii. to the grand vizier; but this letter is false, as are most of the relations of that mercenary writer; and norberg himself acknowledges that the king of sweden never could be prevailed on to write to the grand vizier. [ ] the czar, says the preface to lord whitworth's account of russia, who had been absolute enough to civilize savages, had no idea, could conceive none, of the privileges of a nation civilized in the only rational manner by laws and liberties. he demanded immediate and severe punishment of the offenders: he demanded it of a princess, whom he thought interested, to assert the sacredness of the persons of monarchs, even in their representatives; and he demanded it with threats of wreaking his vengeance on all english merchants and subjects established in his dominions. in this light the menaces were formidable; otherwise, happily, the rights of the whole people were more sacred here than the persons of foreign ministers. the czar's memorials urged the queen with the satisfaction which she herself had extorted, when only the boat and servants of the earl of manchester had been insulted at venice. that state had broken through the fundamental laws, to content the queen of great britain. how noble a picture of government, when a monarch, that can force another nation to infringe its constitution, dare not violate his own? one may imagine with what difficulty our secretaries of state must have laboured through all the ambages of phrase in english, french, german, and russ, to explain to muscovite ears and muscovite understandings, the meaning of indictments, pleadings, precedents, juries, and verdicts; and how impatiently peter must have listened to promises of a hearing next term? with what astonishment must he have beheld a great queen, engaging to endeavour to prevail on her parliament to pass an act to prevent any such outrage for the future? what honour does it not reflect on the memory of that princess to own to an arbitrary emperor, that even to appease him she dare not put the meanest of her subjects to death uncondemned by law!--there are, says she, in one of her dispatches to him, insuperable difficulties, with respect to the ancient and fundamental laws of the government of our people; which we fear do not permit so severe and rigorous a sentence to be given, as your imperial majesty at first seemed to expect in this case; and we persuade ourself, that your imperial majesty, who are a prince famous for clemency and exact justice, will not require us, who are the guardian and protectress of the laws, to inflict a punishment upon our subjects, which the law does not impower us to do. words so venerable and heroic, that this broil ought to become history, and be exempted from the oblivion due to the silly squabbles of ambassadors and their privileges. if anne deserved praise for her conduct on this occasion, it reflects still greater glory on peter, that this ferocious man should listen to these details, and had moderation and justice enough to be persuaded by the reason of them. [ ] afterwards created lord whitworth, by king george i. [ ] the account this chaplain gives of the demands of the grand seignior is equally false and puerile. he says, that sultan achmet, previous to his declaring war against the czar, sent to that prince a paper, containing the conditions on which he was willing to grant him peace. these conditions, norberg tells us, were as follows: 'that peter should renounce his alliance with augustus, reinstate stanislaus in the possession of the crown of poland, restore all livonia to charles xii., and pay that prince the value in ready money of what he had taken from him at the battle of pultowa; and, lastly, that the czar should demolish his newly-built city of petersburg.' this piece was forged by one brazey, a half-starved pamphleteer, and author of a work entitled, memoirs, satirical, historical, and entertaining. it was from this fountain norberg drew his intelligence; and however he may have been the confessor of charles xii. he certainly does not appear to have been his confidant. [ ] the new vizier embraced every opportunity of affronting the czar, in the person of his envoy, and particularly in giving the french ambassador the preference. it was customary, on the promotion of the grand vizier, for all the foreign ministers to request an audience of congratulation. count tolstoy was the first who demanded that audience; but was answered--that the precedence had always been given to the ambassador of france: whereupon tolstoy informed the vizier--that he must be deprived of the pleasure of waiting on him at all: which, being maliciously represented, as expressing the utmost contempt of his person, and the khan of tartary being at the same time instigated to make several heavy complaints against the conduct of the russians on the frontiers, count tolstoy was immediately committed to the castle of the seven towers. [ ] it is very strange that so many writers always confound walachia and moldavia together. [ ] this duke of holstein, at the time he married the daughter of peter i. was a prince of very inconsiderable power, though of one of the most ancient houses in germany. his ancestors had been stripped of great part of their dominions by the kings of denmark; so that, at the time of this marriage, he found himself greatly circumscribed in point of possessions; but, from this epoch of his alliance with the czar of muscovy, we may date the rise of the ducal branch of holstein, which now fills the thrones of russia and sweden, and is likewise in possession of the bishopric of lubec, which, in all probability, will fall to this house, notwithstanding the late election, which at present is the subject of litigation, the issue of which will, to all appearance, terminate in favour of the prince, son to the present bishop, through the protection of the courts of vienna and petersburg. the empress catherine, who now sits on the throne of russia is herself descended from this august house, by the side of her mother, who was sister to the king of sweden, to the prince-bishop of lubec, and to the famous prince george of holstein, whose achievements made so much noise during the war. this princess, whose name was elizabeth, married the reigning prince of anbak zerbst, whose house was indisputably the most ancient; and, in former times, the most powerful in all germany, since they can trace their pedigree from the dukes of ascania, who were formerly masters of the two electorates of saxony and brandenburg, as appears by their armorial bearings, which are, quarterly, the arms of saxony and brandenburg. of this branch of zerbst there is remaining only the present reigning prince, brother to the empress catherine, who, in case he should die without issue, will succeed to the principality of yevern, in east friesland; from all which it appears already, that the family of holstein is at present the most powerful in europe, as being in possession of three crowns in the north.--[since the above was written important changes have taken place.] [ ] this same count poniatowsky, who was at that time in the service of charles xii., died afterwards castellan of cracovia, and first senator of the republic of poland, after having enjoyed all the dignities to which a nobleman of that country can attain. his connexions with charles xii. during that prince's retirement at bender, first made him taken notice of; and, it is to be wished, for the honour of his memory, that he had waited till the conclusion of a peace between sweden and poland, to be reconciled to king augustus; but following the dictates of ambition, rather than those of strict honour, he sacrificed the interests of both charles and stanislaus, to the care of his own fortune; and, while he appeared the most zealous in their cause, he secretly did them all the ill services he could at the ottoman porte: to this double dealing he owed the immense fortune of which he was afterwards possessed. he married the princess czartoriski, daughter of the castellan of vilna, a lady, for her heroic spirit, worthy to have been born in the times of ancient rome: when her eldest son, the present grand chamberlain of the crown, had that famous dispute with count tarlo, palatine of lublin; a dispute which made so much noise in all the public papers in the year , this lady, after having made him shoot at a mark every day, for three weeks, in order to be expert at firing, said to him, as he was mounting his horse, to go to meet his adversary--'go, my son; but, if you do not acquit yourself with honour in this affair, never appear before me again.' this anecdote may serve as a specimen of the character of our heroine. the family of czartoriski is descended from the ancient jagellins, who were, for several ages, in lineal possession of the crown of poland; and is, at this day, extremely rich and powerful, by the alliances it has contracted, but they have never been able to acquire popularity; and so long as count tarlo (who was killed in a duel with the young count poniatowsky) lived, had no influence in the dictines, or lesser assembly of the states, because tarlo, who was the idol of the nobles, and a sworn enemy to the czartoriski family, carried every thing before him, and nothing was done but according to his pleasure. [ ] about seventy pounds sterling. [ ] french money, which is always counted by livres and makes about three millions sterling. [ ] a town in bohemia famous for its mineral springs. [ ] about fifty thousand pounds sterling. [ ] private memoirs of bassowitz, jan. , . [ ] a town of sleswic, in denmark, situated on the river eyder, fourteen miles from the german ocean, having a very commodious harbour. [ ] about twelve hundred pounds sterling. [ ] in the preamble to this institution, the czar declared, that it was to perpetuate the memory of her love in his distressed condition on the banks of the river pruth. he invested her with full power to bestow it on such of her own sex as she should think proper. the ensigns of this order are, a broad white riband, and wore over the right shoulder, with a medal of st. catherine, adorned with precious stones, and the motto, 'out of love and fidelity.' [ ] inhabitants of a small town of hungarian dalmatia, with a harbour, from whence the neighbouring sea takes the name of golfo di bickariga. [ ] the conspiracy carried on in france by cardinal alberoni, was discovered in a very singular manner. the spanish ambassador's secretary, who used frequently to go to the house of one la follon, a famous procuress of paris, to amuse himself for an hour or two after the fatigues of business, had appointed a young nymph, whom he was fond of, to meet him there at nine o'clock in the evening, but did not come to her till near two o'clock in the morning. the lady, as may be supposed, reproached him with the little regard he paid to her charms, or his own promise; but he excused himself, by saying, that he had been obliged to stay to finish a long dispatch in ciphers, which was to be sent away that very night by a courier to spain: so saying, he undressed and threw himself into bed, where he quietly fell asleep. in pulling off his clothes, he had, by accident, dropped a paper out of his pocket, which, by its bulk, raised in the nymph that curiosity so natural to her sex. she picked it up, and read it partly over, when the nature of its contents made her resolve to communicate them to la follon: accordingly, she framed some excuse for leaving the room, and immediately went to the apartment of the old lady, and opened her budget. la follon, who was a woman of superior understanding to most in her sphere, immediately saw the whole consequence of the affair; and, after having recommended to the girl, to amuse her gallant as long as possible, she immediately went to waken the regent, to whom she had access at all hours, for matters of a very different nature to the present. this prince, whose presence of mind was equal to every exigency, immediately dispatched different couriers to the frontiers; in consequence of which, the spanish ambassador's messenger was stopped at bayonne, and his dispatches taken from him; upon deciphering of which, they were found exactly to agree with the original delivered to the regent by la follon: upon this the prince of cellamar, the spanish ambassador was put under an arrest, and all his papers seized; after which he was sent under a strong guard to the frontiers, where they left him to make the best of his way to his own country. thus an event, which would have brought the kingdom of france to the verge of destruction, was frustrated by a votary of venus, and a priestess of the temple of pleasure. [ ] as these letters and answers afford the most striking evidence of the czar's prudence, and the prince's insincerity, and will convey to the reader a clear idea of the grounds and motives of this extraordinary transaction, we have inserted the following translation of them. the first letter from the czar to his son, is dated the th of october, , and displays a noble spirit of religion, with the most ardent desire of leaving a successor who should perpetuate his name and glory to future ages. 'son,' says the czar to him, 'you cannot be ignorant of what is known to all the world, that our people groaned under the oppression of the swedes, before the beginning of this present war. by the usurped possession of many of our maritime ports, so necessary to our state, they cut us off from all commerce with the rest of mankind; and we saw, with deep regret, that they had even cast a mist over the eyes of persons of the greatest discernment, who tamely brooked their slavery, and made no complaints to us. you know how much it cost us at the beginning of this war, to make ourselves thoroughly experienced, and to stand our ground in spite of all the advantages which our irreconcileable enemies gained over us. the almighty alone has conducted us by his hand, and conducts us still. we submitted to that probationary state with resignation to the will of god, not doubting but it was he who made us pass through it: he has accepted our submission; and the same enemy, before whom we were wont to tremble, now trembles before us. these are effects, which, under god's assistance, we owe to our labour, and those of our faithful and affectionate sons, and russian subjects. but while i survey the successes with which god has blessed our arms, if i turn my eyes on the posterity that is to succeed me, my soul is pierced with anguish; and i have no enjoyment of my present happiness, when i carry my views into futurity. all my felicity vanishes away like a dream, since you, my son, reject all means of rendering yourself capable of governing well after me. your incapacity is voluntary; for you cannot excuse yourself from want of genius: it is inclination alone you want. far less can you plead the want of bodily strength, as if god had not furnished you sufficiently in that respect: for though your constitution be none the strongest, it cannot be reckoned weak. yet you will not so much as hear of warlike exercises; though it is by those means we are risen from that obscurity in which we were buried, and have made ourselves known to the nations about us, whose esteem we now enjoy. i am far from desiring you to cherish in yourself a disposition to make war for its own sake, and without just reasons: all i demand of you is, that you would apply yourself to learn the military art; because, without understanding the rules of war, it is impossible to be qualified for government. i might set before your eyes many examples of what i propose to you; but shall only mention the greeks, with whom we are united by the same profession of faith. whence came the declension of their empire, but from the neglect of arms? sloth and inaction have subjected them to tyrants, and that slavery under which they have groaned. you are much mistaken if you imagine it is enough for a prince that he have good generals to act under his orders: no, my son, it is upon the chief himself that the eyes of the world are fixed; they study his inclinations, and easily slide into the imitation of his manners. my brother, during his reign, loved magnificence in dress, and splendid equipages, and horses richly caparisoned; the taste of this country was not much formed that way; but the pleasures of the prince soon became those of the subjects, who are readily led to imitate him both in the objects of his love and disgust. if people are so easily disengaged from things that are only for pleasure, will they not be still more prone to forget, and in process of time wholly to lay aside the use of arms, the exercise of which grows the more irksome the less they are habituated to them? you have no inclination to learn the profession of war; you do not apply yourself to it; and consequently will never know it. how then will you be able to command others, and to judge of the rewards which those subjects deserve who do their duty, or of the punishment due to such as fall short of obedience? you must judge only by other people's eyes; and will be considered as a young bird, which reaching out its beak, is as ready to receive poison as proper nourishment. you say, the infirm state of your health makes you unfit to bear the fatigues of war; but that is a frivolous excuse. i desire you not to undergo the fatigues of that profession, though it is there that all great captains are begun; but i wish you had an inclination to the military art; and reason may give it you, if you have it not from nature. had you once this inclination, it would occupy your thoughts at all times, even in your hours of sickness. ask those who remember my brother's reign: his state of health was much more infirm than your's; he could not manage a horse of never so little mettle, nor hardly mount him: yet he loved horses, and perhaps there never will be in the country finer stables than his. hence you see, that success does not always depend upon personal labour, but upon the inclination. if you think that there are princes, whose affairs fail not to succeed, though they go not to war in person, you are in the right; but if they go not to the field of battle, they have, however, an inclination to go, and are acquainted with the military art. for instance, the late king of france did not always take the field himself; but we know to what a degree he was a lover of war, and how many glorious exploits he performed therein; which made his campaigns be called the theatre and school of the world. the bent of that prince's mind was not turned to military affairs only, he had also a taste for the polite arts, for manufactures, and other institutions, which have made his kingdom more flourishing than any other. after all these remonstrances which i have laid before you, i return to my first subject, which immediately concerns yourself. i am a man, and consequently must die: to whom shall i leave the care of finishing what, by god's grace, i have begun, and of preserving what i have in part recovered? to a son who, like that slothful servant in the gospel, buries his talent in the earth, and neglects to improve what god has committed to his trust? how often have i reproached you for your sullenness and indocility? i have been obliged to chastise you on that account. for these several years past i have hardly spoke to you, because i almost despair of bringing you back to the right way; discouraged and disheartened by the fruitlessness of all my endeavours. you loiter on in supine indolence; abandoning yourself to shameful pleasures, without extending your foresight to the dangerous consequences which such a conduct must produce both to yourself and the whole state: you confine yourself to the government of your own house, and in that station you acquit yourself very ill; st. paul has told us, 'he that knows not how to govern his own house, how shall he be able to rule the church of god?' in like manner i say to you, since you know not how to manage your domestic affairs, how can you be able to govern a kingdom? i am determined, at last, to signify to you my final purpose; being willing, however, to defer the execution of it for a short time, to see if you will reform: if not, know that i am resolved to deprive you of the succession, as i would lop off a useless branch. do not imagine, that because i have no other child but you,[ ] i mean by this only to intimidate you: i will most certainly execute my resolution; and god requires it of me: for, since i spare not my own life for the sake of my country, and the welfare of my people, why should i allow an effeminate prince to ascend the throne after me, who would sacrifice the interest of the subject to his pleasures? and should he be obliged to expose his life in their behalf, would leave them to perish, rather than redress their grievances. i will call in a mere stranger to the crown, if he be but worthy of that honour, sooner than my own son, if he is unworthy. 'peter.' to this letter the czarowitz replied: 'most gracious sovereign and father, i have read the letter which your majesty sent me of the th of october, , after the interment of my wife; and all the answer i can make to it is, that if your majesty is determined to deprive me of the succession to the crown of russia, on account of my inability, your will be done. i even request it of you very earnestly; because i judge not myself fit for government. my memory is greatly impaired; and without memory there is no managing affairs. the powers both of my body and mind are much weakened by the diseases to which i have been incident, and i am thereby incapacitated for the rule of so great a people. such a charge requires a man far more vigorous than i am. for these reasons i am not ambitious to succeed you (whom god preserve through a length of years) in the crown of russia, even though i had no brother, as i have one at present, whom god long preserve. as little will i for the future set up any claim to the succession: to the truth of which i solemnly swear, taking god to be my witness; and in testimony thereof i write and sign these presents. i put my children into your hands: and for myself i ask no more of you than a bare maintenance during my life, leaving the whole to your pleasure. 'your humble servant and son, 'alexis.' peter soon penetrated through the disguise his son had assumed, and therefore wrote him the above letter, dated january , , and which he called his 'last admonition.' [ ] this letter was written about eight days before the birth of peter patrowitz, the czar's second son. [ ] this letter was couched in the following terms:--'most gracious sovereign and father, yesterday morning i received your letter, of the th of this month: my indisposition hinders me from writing to you at large, but i am willing to embrace the monastic state, and i beg your gracious consent thereto. 'your servant, and unworthy son, 'alexis.' [ ] the prince's renunciation was couched in the following terms:--'i, the undernamed, declare upon the holy gospel, that on account of the crimes i have committed against his czarish majesty, my father and sovereign, as set forth in his manifesto, i am, through my own fault, excluded from the throne of russia. therefore i confess and acknowledge that exclusion to be just, as having merited it by my own fault and unworthiness; and i hereby oblige myself, and swear in the presence of almighty god, in unity of nature, and trinity of persons, as my supreme judge, to submit in all things to my father's will, never to set up a claim or pretension to the succession, or accept of it under any pretext whatever, acknowledging my brother peter petrowitz as lawful successor to the crown. in testimony whereof, i kiss the holy cross, and sign these presents with my own hand. 'alexis.' [ ] as this extraordinary piece cannot fail of being interesting to most part of our readers, we have ventured to subjoin the whole of it in a note, our author having only given some few extracts. _the czar's declaration._ peter i. by the grace of god, czar, emperor of russia, &c. to all our faithful subjects, ecclesiastical, military, and civil, of all the states of the russian nation. it is notorious, and well known to the greatest part of our faithful subjects, and chiefly to those who live in the places of our residence, or who are in our service, with how much care and application we have caused our eldest son alexis to be brought up and educated; having given him for that purpose, from his infancy, tutors to teach him the russian tongue, and foreign languages, and to instruct him in all arts and sciences, in order not only to bring him up in our christian orthodox faith of the greek profession, but also in the knowledge of political and military affairs, and likewise in the constitution of foreign countries, their customs and languages; through the reading of history, and other books, in all manner of sciences, becoming a prince of his high rank, he might acquire the qualifications worthy of a successor to our throne of great russia. nevertheless, we have seen with grief, that all attention and care, for the education and instruction of our son, proved ineffectual and useless, seeing he always swerved from his filial obedience, shewing no application for what was becoming a worthy successor, and slighting the precepts of the masters we had appointed for him; but, on the contrary, frequenting disorderly persons, from whom he could learn nothing good, or that would be advantageous and useful to him. we have not neglected often to endeavour to reclaim, and bring him back to his duty, sometimes by caresses and gentle means, sometimes by reprimands, sometimes by paternal corrections. we have more than once taken him with us into our army and the field, that he might be instructed in the art of war, as one of the chief sciences for the defence of his country; guarding him, at the same time, from all hazard of the succession, though we exposed ourself to manifest perils and dangers. we have at other times left him at moscow, putting into his hands a sort of regency in the empire, in order to form him in the art of government, and that he might learn how to reign after us. we have likewise sent him into foreign countries, in hopes and expectation, that seeing, in his travels, governments so well regulated, this would excite in him some emulation and an inclination to apply himself to do well. but all our care has been fruitless, and like the seed of the doctrine fallen upon a rock; for he has not only refused to follow that which is good, but even is come to hate it, without shewing any inclination, or disposition, either for military or political affairs; hourly and continually conversing with base and disorderly persons, whose morals are rude and abominable. as we were resolved to endeavour, by all imaginable means, to reclaim him from that disorderly course, and to inspire him with an inclination to converse with persons of virtue and honour; we exhorted him to choose a consort among the chief foreign houses, as is usual in other countries, and hath been practised by our ancestors, the czars of russia, who have contracted alliances by marriages with other sovereign houses, and we have left him at liberty to make a choice. he declared his inclination for the princess, grand-daughter of the duke of wolfenbuttle, then reigning, sister-in-law to his imperial majesty the emperor of the romans, now reigning, and cousin to the king of great britain; and having desired us to procure him that alliance, and permit him to marry that princess, we readily consented thereunto, without any regard to the great expense which was necessarily occasioned by that marriage: but, after its consummation, we found ourselves disappointed of the hopes we had, that the change in the condition of our son would produce good fruits, and change his bad inclinations; for, notwithstanding his spouse was, as far as we have been able to observe, a wise, sprightly princess, and of a virtuous conduct, and that he himself had chosen her, he nevertheless lived with her in the greatest disunion, while he redoubled his affection for lewd people, bringing thereby a disgrace upon our house in the eyes of foreign powers to whom that princess was related, which drew upon us many complaints and reproaches. our frequent advices and exhortations to him, to reform his conduct, proved ineffectual, and he at last violated the conjugal faith, and gave his affection to a prostitute of the most servile and low condition, living publicly in that crime with her, to the great contempt of his lawful spouse, who soon after died; and it was believed that her grief, occasioned by the disorderly life of her husband, hastened the end of her days. when we saw his resolution to persevere in his vicious courses, we declared to him, at the funeral of his consort, that if he did not for the future conform to our will, and apply himself to things becoming a prince, presumptive heir to so great an empire, we would deprive him of the succession, without any regard to his being our only son (our second son was not then born) and that he ought not to rely upon his being such, because we would rather choose for our successor a stranger worthy thereof, than an unworthy son; that we would not leave our empire to such a successor, who would ruin and destroy what we have, by god's assistance, established, and tarnish the glory and honour of the russian nation, for the acquiring of which we had sacrificed our ease and our health, and willingly exposed our life on several occasions; besides, that the fear of god's judgment would not permit us to leave the government of such vast territories in the hands of one whose insufficiency and unworthiness we were not ignorant of. in short, we exhorted him in the most pressing terms we could make use of, to behave himself with discretion, and gave him time to repent and return to his duty. his answer to these remonstrances was, that he acknowledged himself guilty in all these points; but alleged the weakness of his parts and genius, which did not permit him to apply himself to the sciences, and other functions recommended to him: he owned himself incapable of our succession, and desired us to discharge him from the same. nevertheless, we continued to exhort him with a paternal affection, and joining menaces to our exhortations; we forgot nothing to bring him back to the right way. the operations of the war having obliged us to repair to denmark, we left him at petersburg, to give him time to return to his duty, and amend his ways; and, afterwards, upon the repeated advices we received of the continuance of his disorderly life, we sent him orders to come to us at copenhagen, to make the campaign, that he might thereby the better form himself. but, forgetting the fear and commandments of god, who enjoins obedience even to private parents, and much more to those who are at the same time sovereigns, our paternal cares had no other return than unheard-of ingratitude; for, instead of coming to us as we ordered, he withdrew, with large sums of money, and his infamous concubine, with whom he continued to live in a criminal course, and put himself under the protection of the emperor, raising against us, his father and his lord, numberless calumnies and false reports, as if we did persecute him, and intended, without cause, to deprive him of the succession; alleging, moreover, that even his life was not safe if he continued with us, and desired the emperor not only to give him refuge in his dominions, but also to protect him against us by force of arms. every one may judge, what shame and dishonour this conduct of our son hath drawn upon us and our empire, in the face of the whole world; the like instance is hardly to be found in history. the emperor, though informed of his excesses, and how he had lived with his consort, sister-in-law to his imperial majesty, thought fit, however, upon these pressing instances, to appoint him a place where he might reside; and he desired farther, that he might be so private there, that we might not come to the knowledge of it. meanwhile his long stay having made us fear, out of a tender and fatherly affection for him, that some misfortune had befallen him, we sent persons several ways to get intelligence of him, and, after a great deal of trouble, we were at last informed by the captain of our guard, alexander romanzoff, that he was privately kept in an imperial fortress at tyrol; whereupon we wrote a letter, with our own hand, to the emperor, to desire that he might be sent back to us: but, notwithstanding the emperor acquainted him with our demands, and exhorted him to return to us, and submit to our will, as being his father and lord; yet he alleged, with a great many calumnies against us, that he ought not to be delivered into our hands, as if we had been his enemy, and a tyrant, from whom he had nothing to expect but death. in short, he persuaded his imperial majesty, instead of sending him back at that time to us, to remove him to some remote place in his dominions, namely, naples in italy, and keep him there secretly in the castle, under a borrowed name. nevertheless, we having notice of the place where he was, did thereupon dispatch to the emperor our privy-counsellor, peter tolstoy, and the captain of our guard, aforesaid, with a most pressing letter, representing how unjust it would be to detain our son, contrary to all laws, divine and human, according to which private parents, and with much more reason those who are besides invested with a sovereign authority as we are, have an unlimited power over their children, independently of any other judge; and we set forth on one side, the just and affectionate manner with which we had always used our son, and, on the other, his disobedience; representing, in the conclusion, the ill consequences and animosities which the refusal of delivering up our son to us might occasion, because we would not leave this affair in that condition. we, at the same time, ordered those we sent with that letter, to make verbal remonstrances even in more pressing terms, and to declare that we should be obliged to revenge, by all possible methods, such detaining our son. we wrote likewise a letter to him with our own hand, to represent to him the horror and impiety of his conduct, and the enormity of the crime he had committed against us his father, and how god threatened in his laws to punish disobedient children with eternal death: we threatened him, as a father, with our curses, and, as his lord, to declare him a traitor to his country, unless he returned, and obeyed our commands; and gave him assurance, that if he did as we desired, and returned, we would pardon his crime. our envoys, after many solicitations, and the above representation, made by us in writing, at last obtained leave of the emperor to go and speak to our son, in order to dispose him to return home. the imperial minister gave them at the same time to understand, that our son had informed the emperor that we persecuted him, and that his life was not safe with us, whereby he moved the emperor's compassion, and induced him to take him into his protection; but that the emperor, taking now into his consideration our true and solid representations, promised to use his utmost endeavour to dispose him to return to us; and would, moreover, declare to him, that he could not in justice and equity refuse to deliver him to his father, or have any difference with us on that account. our envoys, upon their arrival at naples, having desired to deliver to him our letter, written with our hand, sent us word, that he did refuse to admit them; but that the emperor's viceroy had found means, by inviting him to his house, to present them to him afterwards, much against his will. he did then, indeed, receive our letter, containing our paternal exhortation, and threatening our curse, but without shewing the least inclination to return; alleging still a great many falsities and calumnies against us, as if, by reason of several dangers he had to apprehend from us, he could not, nor would not return; and boasting, that the emperor had not only promised to defend and protect him against us, but even to set him upon the throne of russia against our will, by force of arms. our envoys perceiving this evil disposition, tried all imaginable ways to prevail with him to return, they intreated him, they expatiated by turns upon the graciousness of our assurances towards him, and upon our threats in case of disobedience, and that we would even bring him away by force of arms; they declared to him that the emperor would not enter into a war with us on his account, and many other such-like representations did they make to him. but he paid no regard to all this, nor shewed any inclination to return to us, until the imperial viceroy, convinced at last of his obstinacy, told him in the emperor's name, that he ought to return; for that his imperial majesty could not by any law keep him from us, nor, during the present war with turkey, and also in italy with spain, embroil himself with us upon his account. when he saw how the case stood, fearing he should be delivered up to us, whether he would or not, he at length resolved to return home; and declared his mind to our envoys, and to the imperial viceroy: he likewise wrote the same thing to us, acknowledging himself to be a criminal, and blameworthy. now although our son, by so long a course of criminal disobedience against us, his father and lord, for many years, and particularly for the dishonour he hath cast upon us in the face of the world, by withdrawing himself, and raising calumnies against us, as if we were an unnatural father, and for opposing his sovereign, hath deserved to be punished with death; yet our paternal affection inclines us to have mercy upon him, and we therefore pardon his crimes, and exempt him from all punishment for the same. but considering his unworthiness, we cannot in conscience, leave him after us the succession to the throne of russia; foreseeing that, by his vicious courses, he would entirely destroy the glory of our nation and the safety of our dominions, which, through god's assistance, we have acquired and established by incessant application; for it is notorious and known to every one, how much it hath cost us, and with what efforts we have not only recovered the provinces which the enemy had usurped from our empire, but also conquered several considerable towns and countries, and with what care we have caused our people to be instructed in all sorts of civil and military sciences, to the glory and advantage of the nation and empire. now, as we should pity our states and faithful subjects, if, by such a successor, we should throw them back into a much worse condition than ever they were yet; so, by the paternal authority, in virtue of which, by the laws of our empire, any of our subjects may disinherit a son, and give his succession to such other of his sons, as he pleases; and, in quality of sovereign prince, in consideration of the safety of our dominions, we do deprive our said son alexis, for his crimes and unworthiness, of the succession after us to the throne of russia, even though there should not remain one single person of our family after us. and we do constitute and declare successor to the said throne after us, our second son peter, though yet very young, having no successor that is older. we lay upon our said son alexis our paternal curse, if ever at any time he pretends to, or reclaims, the said succession; and we desire our faithful subjects, whether ecclesiastics or seculars, of all ranks and conditions, and the whole russian nation, in conformity to this constitution and our will, to acknowledge and consider our said son peter, appointed by our constitution, to confirm the whole by oath, before the holy altar, upon the holy gospel, kissing the cross; and all those who shall ever, at any time, oppose this our will, and who, from this day forward, shall dare to consider our son alexis, as successor, or to assist him for that purpose, declare them traitors to us and their country. and we have ordered that these presents shall be every where published and promulgated, to the end that no person may pretend ignorance.--given at moscow, the third of february, . signed with our hand, and sealed with our seal. 'peter.' [ ] this was the son of the empress catherine, who died april , . [ ] at the same time confirming it by an oath, the form of which was as follows: 'i swear before almighty god, and upon his holy gospel, that whereas our most gracious sovereign, the czar peter alexiowitz, has caused circular letters to be published through his empire, to notify that he has thought fit to exclude his son, prince alexis petrowitz, from the throne of russia, and to appoint for his successor to the crown his second son, the prince royal peter petrowitz; i do acknowledge this order and regulation made by his majesty in favour of the said prince peter petrowitz, to be just and lawful, and entirely conform and submit myself to the same; promising always to acknowledge the said prince royal peter petrowitz for his lawful successor, and to stand by him on all occasions, even to the loss of my life, against all such as shall presume to oppose the said succession; and that i never will, on any pretence whatsoever assist the prince alexis petrowitz, nor in any manner whatsoever contribute to procure him the succession. and this i solemnly promise by my oath on the holy gospel, kissing the holy cross thereupon.' [ ] his declaration to the clergy concluded in this manner:--'though this affair does not fall within the verge of the spiritual, but of the civil jurisdiction, and we have this day referred it to the imperial decision of the secular court, but remembering that passage in the word of god, which requires us on such occasions to consult the priests and elders of the church, in order to know the will of heaven, and being desirous of receiving all possible instructions in a matter of such importance, we desire of you, the archbishops, and the whole ecclesiastical state, as teachers of the word of god, not to pronounce judgment in this case, but to examine and give us your opinion concerning it, according to the sacred oracles, from whom we may be best informed what punishment my son deserves, and that you will give it us in writing under your hands, that being properly instructed herein, we may lay no burthen on our conscience. we therefore repose our confidence in you, that, as guardians of the divine laws, as faithful pastors of the christian flock, and as well affected towards your country, you will act suitable to your dignity, conjuring you by that dignity, and the holiness of your function, to proceed without fear or dissimulation. [ ] besides the particular passages in holy writ cited on this occasion, which were, levit. xx. , . deut. xxxi. matt. xx. . mark vii. . rom. i. . ephes vi. . those from the constitutions of the empire were as follows: 'if any person, by any ill design, forms any attempt against the health of the czar, or does any thing to his prejudice, and is found inclined to execute his pernicious designs, let him be put to death, after he is convicted thereof.' stat. . 'in like manner, if any one, during the reign of his czarian majesty, through a desire to reign in the empire of russia, and put the czar to death, shall begin to raise troops with this pernicious view; or if any one shall form an alliance with the enemies of his czarian majesty, or hold a correspondence with them, or assist them to arrive at the government, or raise any other disorder; if any one declare it, and the truth be found out upon such declaration, let the traitor suffer death upon conviction of the treason.' stat. . from the military laws the following citations were made; chap. . art. . 'if any subject raises men, and takes up arms against the czarian majesty; or if any person forms a design of taking his majesty prisoner, or killing him; or if he offers any violence to him; he and all his abettors and adherents shall be quartered, as guilty of treason, and their goods confiscated.' to which article the following explanation was added: 'they also shall suffer the same punishment, who, though they have not been able to execute their crime, shall be convicted of inclination and desire to commit it; and likewise, those who shall not have discovered it when it came to their knowledge,' chap. . art. . 'he who forms a design of committing any treason, or any other matter of the like nature, shall be punished with the same capital punishments as if he had actually executed his design.' [ ] m. de voltaire is mistaken in this point; for, by our laws, no peer of the realm can absent himself from the service of the parliament during its session, without the liberty of the king or the house. [ ] this is another mistake; for it is death by our law to compass or imagine the death of the sovereign. [ ] or nions, the capital of montauban, in dauphine, in france, situate on the river aigues, over which is a bridge, said to be a roman work. [ ] at twenty-four to the pound sterling. [ ] about three thousand pounds sterling. [ ] the czar celebrated this victory by a naval triumph at petersburg, caused a gold medal to be struck to perpetuate the glory of the action, presented prince galitzin with a sword set with diamonds, and distributed a large sum of money among the officers and sailors who had given such signal proofs of their valour. [ ] a little town of the bothnick gulf in north finland. [ ] notwithstanding the great rejoicings made on this occasion, peter was noways inattentive to the affairs of state; but held frequent councils thereon: and being desirous, as his son peter petrowitz was dead, to settle the succession on a prince who would follow his maxims, and prosecute the great designs which he had begun for civilizing his people, he ordered public notice to be given, on the d of february, to all his subjects inhabiting the city of moscow, to repair the next day to castle-church; which they having done, printed papers were delivered to them all, signifying, 'that it was his imperial majesty's pleasure, that every man should swear, and give under his hand, that he would not only approve the choice his majesty would make of a successor, but acknowledge the person he should appoint as emperor and sovereign.' an order was likewise published a few days after at petersburg, requiring the magistrates and all persons to subscribe the same declaration; and all the grandees of the empire were commanded, on pain of death and confiscation, to repair to moscow by the latter end of march for that purpose, except those inhabiting astracan and siberia, who, living at too great a distance, were excused from giving their personal attendance, and permitted to subscribe before their respective governors. this oath was readily taken by all ranks and degrees of the people, who were well assured that their emperor would make choice of one who was every way worthy of the succession, and capable of supporting the dignity intended for him: but they were still in the dark as to the identical person, though it was generally believed to be prince nariskin, who was nearly related to the emperor, and allowed to have all the qualities requisite for his successor: but a little time shewed them, that this conjecture was groundless. [ ] these he published and distributed along the borders of the caspian sea, therein declaring--that he came not upon the frontiers of persia, with an intention of reducing any of the provinces of that kingdom to his obedience, but only to maintain the lawful possessor of them on his throne, and to defend him powerfully, together with his faithful subjects, against the tyranny of mir mahmoud, and to obtain satisfaction from him and his tartars, for the robberies and mischiefs which they had committed in the russian empire. [ ] memoirs of bassewitz. [ ] ms. memoirs of count de bassewitz. [ ] catherine paid the last duties to her husband's ashes, with a pomp becoming the greatest monarch that russia, or perhaps any other country, had ever known; and though there is no court of europe where splendour and magnificence is carried to a greater height on these occasions than in that of russia, yet it may with great truth be said, that she even surpassed herself in the funeral honours paid to her great peter. she purchased the most precious kinds of marble, and employed some of the ablest sculptors of italy to erect a mausoleum to this hero, which might, if possible, transmit the remembrance of his great actions to the most distant ages. not satisfied with this, she caused a medal to be struck, worthy of the ancients. on one side was represented the bust of the late emperor, with these words--'_peter the great, emperor and sovereign of all russia, born may , _. on the reverse was the empress sitting, with the crown on her head, the globe and sceptre by her side on a table, and before her were a sphere, sea charts, plans, mathematical instruments, arms, and a caduceus. at distances, in three different places, were represented an edifice on the sea coast, with a platform before it, a ship and galley at sea, and the late emperor in the clouds, supported by eternity, looking on the empress, and shewing her with his right hand all the treasures he had left her, with these words, 'behold what i have left you.' in the exergue, 'deceased january, .' several of these medals she ordered to be struck in gold, to the weight of fifty ducats and distributed among the foreign ministers, and all the grandees of the empire, as a testimony of her respect and gratitude to the memory of her late husband, to whose generosity she took a pleasure in owning herself indebted for her present elevated station. mottley gives us the following, as the czar's epitaph: here lieth, all that could die of a man immortal, peter alexiowitz: it is almost superfluous to add, _great emperor of russia!_ a title, which, instead of adding to his glory, became glorious by his wearing it. let antiquity be dumb, nor boast her alexander, or her cæsar. how easy was victory to leaders who were followed by heroes! and whose soldiers felt a noble disdain at being thought less vigilant than their generals! but he, who in this place first knew rest, found subjects base and inactive, unwarlike, unlearned, untractable; neither covetous of fame, nor fearless of danger; creatures with the names of men, but with qualities rather brutal than rational! yet, even these he polished from their native ruggedness; and, breaking out like a new sun, to illuminate the minds of a people, dispelled their night of hereditary darkness; and, by force of his invincible influence, taught them to conquer even the conquerors of germany. other princes have commanded victorious armies; this commander created them. blush, o art! at a hero who owed thee nothing exult, o nature! for thine was this prodigy. [ ] the distinguished regard which this princess shews for the arts and sciences, and her endeavours to attract the great geniuses of all nations to reside in her dominions, by every possible encouragement, affords the strongest presumptions, that in her reign we shall see a second age of louis xiv. and of this we have had a recent proof, in the obliging letter which this august princess wrote with her own hand to m. d'alembert, and the choice she has since made of m. duplex, a member of the royal academy of sciences at paris, when the beforementioned gentleman thought fit to decline the gracious offers she made him. in which choice she has shewn that it is not birth nor rank, but true merit and virtue, which she considers as the essential qualifications in a person to whom she would confide the most sacred of all trusts, that of the education of the grand duke, her son. what then may not be expected from the administration of a sovereign so superior to vulgar prejudice? and especially when assisted by a woronzoff and a galitzin, both the professed friends and patrons of literature and the fine arts, which they themselves have not disdained to cultivate, when business and the weighty affairs of state have allowed them a few moments leisure. [ ] the following anecdote, communicated by a nobleman of the strictest probity, who was himself an eye-witness of the fact, will give us a clear insight into the character and disposition of peter i. in one of the many plots which was formed against the life and government of this monarch, there was among the number of those seized a soldier, belonging to his own regiment of guards. peter being told by his officers that this man had always behaved extremely well, had a curiosity to see him, and learn from his own mouth what might have been his inducement to be concerned in a plot against him; and to this purpose he dressed himself in a plain garb, and so as not to be known by the man again, and went to the prison where he was confined, when, after some conversation, 'i should be glad to know, friend,' said peter, 'what were your reasons for being concerned in an attempt against the emperor your master, as i am certain that he never did you any injury, but on the contrary, has a regard for you, as being a brave soldier, and one who have always done your duty in the field; and therefore, if you were to shew the least remorse for what you have done, i am persuaded that the emperor would forgive you: but before i interest myself in your behalf, you must tell me what motives you had to join the mutineers; and repeat to you again, that the emperor is naturally so good and compassionate, that i am certain he will give you your pardon.' 'i know little or nothing of the emperor,' replied the soldier, 'for i never saw him but at a distance; but he caused my father's head to be cut off some time ago, for being concerned in a former rebellion, and it is the duty of a son to revenge the death of his father, by that of the person who took away his life. if then the emperor is really so good and merciful as you have represented him, counsel him, for his own safety not to pardon me; for were he to restore me my liberty, the first use i should make of it would be, to engage in some new attempt against his life, nor should i ever rest till i had accomplished my design; therefore the securest method he can take, will be to order my head to be struck off immediately, without which his own life is not in safety.' the czar in vain used all the arguments he could think of, to set before this desperado the folly and injustice of such sentiments; he still persisted in what he had declared, and peter departed, greatly chagrined at the bad success of his visit, and gave orders for the execution of this man and the rest of his accomplices. transcriber's notes: the following is a list of changes made to the original. the first line is the original line, the second the corrected one. of procelain, the court magazines, the foundery, of porcelain, the court magazines, the foundery, and brought martins and black foxes, and brought martens and black foxes, labourers in the mines belonging to the crown labourers in the mines belonging to the crown dicipline by land: nay, the most common discipline by land: nay, the most common and encouragement on the part of a govornment; and encouragement on the part of a government; situated on the driester, and subject to the turks, situated on the dniester, and subject to the turks, in a word, he was worthy of being the father of in a word, he was worthy of being the father of to the empire, the reigns of which she intended to the empire, the reins of which she intended he led a retired life, and died in . he led a retired life, and died in . retook from lewis xiv. in . after this, retook from lewis xiv. in . after this, up the renegado, jacob, to the conquerors. up the renegade, jacob, to the conquerors. cruizing on the coast of crim tartary. the ottoman cruising on the coast of crim tartary. the ottoman marshal sheremeto, the general gordons and schein, marshal sheremeto, the generals gordon and schein, accordingly, in the month of march , he sent accordingly, in the month of march , he sent by king willian with a spectacle worthy such a by king william with a spectacle worthy such a is signed, and they cad no longer go from their is signed, and they can no longer go from their this is speaking like the high-priest of depotism. this is speaking like the high-priest of despotism. he invited all the boyards, and principa lladies he invited all the boyards, and principal ladies gained a pitched battle, againsr an enemy who gained a pitched battle, against an enemy who ignorant of the place where these two princes where, ignorant of the place where these two princes were, gave up those zoporavians who had engaged in gave up those zaporavians who had engaged in prisoners. is has been the custom of the prisoners. it has been the custom of the demetrius cantemir, was at this time waiwod of moldavia. demetrius cantemir was at this time waiwod of moldavia. perish with famine. other memoirs pretend, on perish with famine. other memoirs pretend, on and six thousand six hundred and nine-two and six thousand six hundred and ninety-two almost every century: gustavus adolphus get possession almost every century: gustavus adolphus got possession took great delight in the ancient green historians, took great delight in the ancient greek historians, he gave orders that the man, whom he had exmained he gave orders that the man, whom he had examined transmitted to the latest postesity. transmitted to the latest posterity. and here we cannnot forbear recalling to the and here we cannot forbear recalling to the caspian sea, in the neigbourhood of daghestan, caspian sea, in the neighbourhood of daghestan, head of james ii. in london, as he had before head of james iii. in london, as he had before not been attested by a a public minister, who was not been attested by a public minister, who was gods's assistance, we owe to our labour, and those of our god's assistance, we owe to our labour, and those of our of the country, and his ill-behaviour to his wife.' of the country, and his ill-behaviour to his wife. us word, that he did rufuse to admit them; but that the us word, that he did refuse to admit them; but that the materials for reparing this great structure, which materials for repairing this great structure, which who, was to have stanislaus again for her king. who was to have stanislaus again for her king. of renouncing arbitary government. charles of renouncing arbitrary government. charles in this situation during the whole of the pear . in this situation during the whole of the year . them on his throne, and to defend him powerfully, toge- them on his throne, and to defend him powerfully, together _the story of moscow_ _all rights reserved_ [illustration: _ikon of the holy virgin of vladimir_] _the story of_ moscow _by wirt gerrare illustrated by helen m. james_ [illustration: colophon] _london: j. m. dent & co. aldine house, and bedford street covent garden, w. c. _ preface readers of the modern histories of russia may wonder by what right moscow is included among mediÆval towns, for it is the fashion of recent writers to ignore the history of the mighty euro-asian empire prior to the eighteenth century and the reign of peter the great. it is at that period this story of the old muscovite capital ends. to many, then, this account of the town and its vicissitudes during the preceding five centuries may have the charm of novelty; perchance to others, who have wrongly concluded that the old buildings were all destroyed during napoleon's invasion, the few typical antiquities chosen for illustration out of many like, will attract to a closer acquaintance with memorials of a past that was but little influenced by the art of the west. moscow, where the east merges with the west but remains distinct and unconquered, has a fascination all its own; the town not only has been great, but is so yet; its influence pervades the russian empire and is still mutable and active; its story therefore comprises more than the legends and associations of an ordinary city, but, if confined merely to an enumeration of the facts and traditions of the past will not be void of interest, and however fully given, must fall far short of what the imaginative reader may reasonably expect. of the meagre character of this present account i am fully aware; of its positive errors i am, at present, unhappily ignorant, but i trust that those who discover mistakes will not only forgive, but notify me of them, that later readers may be as grateful for the favour as i myself shall be. of place names i have given the idiomatic, instead of the usual literal translation; where i have attempted an equivalent reproduction of the original the transliteration will be comprehensible to those who know nothing of either french or german. that i may not be charged with inconsistency in this, i may explain that where a foreign spelling--as rouble--has become familiar i have used the anglicism. to most readers the names will, i fear, be unpronounceable however spelled; but only the expert will regret that i have not given the original russian. to them the excuse i offer is, that to everyone ignorant of the tongue russian names are absolutely undecipherable, being apparently composed of an alphabet in spasms made up into words of poly-syllabic length. it is difficult for one not of the eastern church to write justly of russian ecclesiasticism; an alien, however carefully he may observe, is liable to obtain faulty impressions and make erroneous deductions; so to me any criticism seems an impertinence. i have tried to present its artistic phases fairly, but am conscious that the ninth chapter is the least satisfactory of all that i have written. for the rest, my task has been easy: i have had but to examine, compare, and judge the work of others and from their stored treasures make my selection. i have produced little that is really original: others have delved amid ruins for vestiges of the earlier moscow; have unearthed ancient monuments; transcribed illegible manuscripts; ransacked archives, measured walls, calculated heights, weighed bells and counted steps; formed theories and found evidence to support them; so have rendered my labour light and pleasant. i regret that i, who at best am but an intelligible interpreter, cannot acknowledge more particularly the hundred and more authorities from whom i have drawn; in the same inadequate, general fashion i must thank many friends, english and russian, for the kindly interest they have taken in the work and the intelligent assistance they have rendered me in its compilation. for direction to valuable sources of information, and other services, i am conscious of particular indebtedness to the rev. f. wyberg, of the english church, moscow, and to mr v. e. marsden, the correspondent of the _standard_ there--either of whom might have written a much better book about the town they know so well. the object of this volume i shall consider to be achieved if its perusal gives to anyone pleasure equal to that its compilation has brought me; or awakens even a few readers to a greater interest in moscow, and a better understanding of the russian people. wirt gerrare. [russian poetry in cyrillic letters] _white-walled and golden-headed, beautiful, bizarre, the pride of all the millions ruled by the russian tsar: the cradle of an empire, shrine of a great race, with europe's noblest cities moscow holds its place!_ v. e. m. contents chapter i page _introduction--pre-muscovite russia_ chapter ii _origin and early history_ chapter iii _moscow under the mongols_ chapter iv _moscow of the princes_ chapter v _ivan the terrible_ chapter vi _the troublous times_ chapter vii _moscow of the tsars_ chapter viii _the kremlin_ chapter ix _moscow of the ecclesiastics_ chapter x _moscow of the citizens_ chapter xi _ancient customs and quaint survivals_ chapter xii _the convents and monasteries_ chapter xiii _moscow of the english_ chapter xiv _the french invasion--and after_ chapter xv _itinerary and miscellaneous information_ _index_ illustrations page _the virgin of vladimir (vladimirski bogeimateri) by st luke_ _frontispiece_ _the kremlin_ _danilovski monastery_ _spass na boru_ _ilyinka gate of the kitai gorod_ _doorway of st lazarus_ _alarm bell tower_ _vasili blajenni_ _the terem--a corridor_ _church of the assumption_ _dom romanovykh_ _belvedere of the terem_ _krutitski vorot_ _krasnoe kriltso_ _throne room of the terem_ _vosskresenski vorot and iberian chapel_ _kremlin--wall and tower_ _terem and belvedere of the potieshni dvorets_ _church of our saviour behind the golden gates_ _potieshni dvorets, or pleasure palace_ _church of the nativity (rojdestva v-putinkakh)_ _uspenski sobor--the ikonostas_ _cathedral of the annunciation (blagovieshchenski sobor)_ _church and gate of mary of vladimir_ _srietenka--the sukharev bashnia_ _st nicholas "stylite"_ _dom chukina_ _krestovia in the romanof house_ _varvarka vorot of the kitai gorod_ _a chastok (watch tower)_ _petrovski monastery_ _simonov monastery_ _novo devichi convent_ _spasski vorot, tower over the redeemer gate_ _borovitski gate and st saviour's cathedral_ _plan of the kremlin_ _face_ _map of moscow_ " moscow chapter i _introduction--pre-muscovite russia_ "cimmerii a scythis nomadibus ejecti."--herodotus. the mediæval pilgrim to moscow, getting his first glimpse of the holy city from salutation hill, saw before him much the same sight as the tourist of to-day may look upon from the same spot. three miles away a hill crowned with white-walled buildings, many towers, gilded domes and spires topped with cross-and-crescent; outside the wall that encircles this hill, groups of buildings, large and small; open fields, trees--singly, in rows, clumps and thickets--separate group from group; ever and anon above the many hued roofs reach belfries, spires, steeples, domes and minarets innumerable. beyond, to right and left, the scene repeats itself until the bright coloured buildings become indistinguishable from the masses of verdure and all merge in the haze of the plains east and west, or the faint outline of forest to the north. long ago the tremendous extent of this town, apparently without limit, amazed strangers no less than the richness and multitude of its buildings filled pilgrims with awe and reverence. to the tourist to-day it is as a vision of magnificent splendour and brilliance, for seen in the clear sunlight of a summer day moscow has beauty and brightness no other city possesses. long lines of ivory whiteness capped with vivid green or flushed with carmine and ruby; great globes of deepest blue, patches of purple and dashes of aquamarine; many gleaming domes of gold, glowing halos of burnished copper, dazzling points of glistening silver--such make moscow at sunset like part of a rainbow streaked with lightning and thickly bedizened with great gems. intense colours, sharp contrasts characterise moscow. the extravagances of design and colouring, unconcealable even in the general prospect, are obvious on closer inspection. the stranger arriving by railway gets no bird's-eye view of the town; but on his way from the station in the suburbs towards the central town sees the painted roofs, coloured walls, pretentious pillars, cupolas with golden stars, strange towers, fantastic gates, immense buildings, tiny cottages, magnificent spaces, narrow winding streets; irregularities and incongruities so many that moscow first, and most lastingly, impresses by its _bizarrerie_. with fuller acquaintance the diversity of style appears in keeping with the spirit of the place, and seeming incongruities are softened, or redeemed, by originality of design or execution. the buildings of moscow are multiform, but there is dissimilarity rather than contrariety; the usual elsewhere is the unconventional here, and conformity is attained by each being unlike all others. an early traveller wrote: "one might imagine all the states of europe and asia had sent a building by way of representation to moscow," and in a certain sense this is still true. but it would be incorrect to assume, therefore, that cosmopolitanism is a dominant trait. the very reverse is the fact. moscow is essentially russian, and though there is abundant evidence of borrowing from greece, italy and byzantium; from moor, goth and mongol; of appropriation of classic, mediæval and renaissance methods, the prevalent style seems to be not exactly the combination of any so much as the outcome of all. not that indigenous forms are wanting, but their elemental quality is obscured by the wondrous versatility and adaptability of the artists. the result is as confusing as though an author in writing out his original ideas made constant random use of different alphabets in each word. this method, so characteristic of russia, is perplexing rather than intricate, but he would be very learned or foolhardy who, acting on the rule that to see the house is to know the inmates, if shown moscow should at once predicate the character of its inhabitants. yet more than most towns moscow reflects the life history of its people; whatever there is of beauty, of strength, of individuality, is the result of human intelligence, experience and effort. no town of like importance owes so little to nature, so much to man. and the dominant tone is religious; religious feeling has inspired the noblest efforts, ecclesiastical influence has conserved such oneness of purpose as moscow manifests. withal there is strong individualism, both clerical and secular. paradoxical as moscow is, it is in the highest degree interesting. if no one object can be pointed to as typical of race or period, no public work shown as the result of persistent policy or genius of peculiar citizenship, moscow in its entirety demonstrates the development of a people. even the opposing principles of diffusion and cohesion, and the parts they have served in the history of this race, are so unmistakably expressed that the sight-seer, even, feels that in moscow, most surely, must be found the key not only to the history of russia, but also to the character of men who have conquered and hold the largest part of two continents. moscow, the town that has cradled and nursed a mighty nation, does not lack story; but its story comprises much of the early history of the empire subsequently evolved, and consequently much that may be considered foreign to the city itself must be stated if the tale is to be complete, or even comprehensible by those to whom the ancient history of russia is unknown. * * * * * to begin at the beginning. european russia is an immense plain, its centre elevated scarcely three hundred feet above sea-level; the hills, few, low and unimportant. lakes are plentiful, and great rivers with many ramifications flow slowly by tortuous channels--mostly towards the north-west or the south-east. large tracts of forest and marsh in the centre terminate with frozen wastes to the north, and merge with rough, sandy pastures on the south. at various periods, europe has been invaded and peopled by different races from the east, and the last of these migrants, the slavs, for the most part took the direction of the great water-ways of russia, that is, from the south-east towards the north-west. in addition to their nomadic habit, various causes, amongst which must be counted internecine warfare, led to the dispersion of the slavs, whilst effective occupation by earlier migrants and the determined resistance of aboriginal races checked their progress in some directions. the scythian branch of the slav race settled on the don about b.c. but was gradually driven from the shores of the black sea by the greek colonists of miletus. these colonies were taken by the romans later, and about a.d. the slavs again asserted their dominion there for a period. other branches of the slav race and wilder races from asia pressed westward, laying the country waste. huns, turks, goths, bolgars, magyars, polovtsi, pechenegians and others, at different times, drove slavs of pastoral habit aside from their path. in the fifth century slavs established themselves on the dnieper at kief and at novgorod on the ilmen, where they progressed and became civilised. in the seventh century they were once more on the shores of the black sea in the south, and in the north novgorod was a thriving commercial centre. the slav republics suffered at the hands of asiatics on the south, and from the depredations of vikings on the north; moreover there were internal dissensions. in a.d. , rurik, a varoeger prince--the same who, it is believed, laid waste the maritime provinces of france in and in entered the thames with sail and pillaged canterbury--made himself master of the northern republic, took up his residence at novgorod and founded a dynasty which lasted years. there is a legend to the effect that his coming was at the invitation of the slavs, who sought his aid and sovereignty, but there can be no doubt it was as a conqueror that rurik came and established his race in russia. some of his followers, led by askold and dyr, sought fortune and conquest further south. these became masters of kief, pressed on to constantinople in ships, embraced christianity and returned to kief, intending there to found a separate kingdom and dynasty. after the death of rurik, his son igor, a minor, succeeded; his uncle, oleg, as regent, went to kief; there he treacherously killed the two usurping leaders, took possession of the city and, appointing igor to the throne, determined that kief should be the "mother of russian towns." the people were then pagans, and the northmen kept to the practices of their ancestors until about , when olga was regent; she visited constantinople and was there baptised into the christian faith. some thirty years later, vladimir, the seventh in descent from rurik, ascended the throne, and during his reign the christian religion was generally adopted throughout his realm. kief then became closely associated with constantinople, its connection with the byzantine empire being both ecclesiastical and commercial. novgorod, on the other hand, remained in closer touch with the west, supplying the northmen with the wares of araby and ind that reached russia by way of the volga. otther, the scandinavian founder of tver, where the tmak joins the volga north of moscow, was a great trader and traveller; at one time going as far east as perm on the kama (biarmaland), at another to england--where he gave king alfred particulars of the fairs in the east, and the methods of trading with asian merchants. in the historical museum of moscow is a well arranged collection of prehistoric antiquities found in the empire. there is nothing among the stone implements to show that the earliest races in russia in any way differed in habit from those of the same era occupying western europe and the british isles. the most ancient of the relics (rooms i., ii.) were found with bones of the mammoth in the district of murom in vladimir, and at kostenki near voronesh. some ear-rings and a bracelet of twisted silver were found in the kremlin, and a few other early remains when excavating for the foundations of the new cathedral, but these trifles are not evidence of early occupation, since they may have been left by travellers along the waterways. the frescoes are fanciful representations of supposed incidents in the life of the early inhabitants, and the models of tumuli, tombs, dolmens, cromlechs and the like, enable one to picture some part of the rude life of the people. particularly deserving notice are the models of the dwellings of different races found in russia: in many the living room is raised well above the ground. it was on the first-floor that the mediæval muscovites lived; it is still the _bel-étage_, and preferred by all. the picture by semiradski representing the funeral rites of the bolgars has the warrant of history. on the death of a chief of this tribe, the remains were placed in a boat on a pile of wood; horses, cattle, slaves, were slain and added; the wife, or a maid offering herself a sacrifice, was fêted for a time, then placed in the boat, and as soon as her attendants bade her farewell the pyre was fired, and subsequently a mound raised over the ashes. the stone idols, remarkable in their likeness to each other, are from all parts of russia; a similar one is to be seen at kuntsevo, near moscow, but both the "babas," as they are called, and pre-christian crosses, are more common in the south and east of russia than in muscovy. to the little that this historical collection tells of the early slavs may be added such facts as ancient chroniclers have recorded. the russians lived together in communities governed by elected or hereditary elders; reared cattle and farmed bees; they were nomadic, idolatrous, hospitable and fond of fermented liquors. some writers dispute, disregard, or belittle the varangian dominion in russia; contending that the varoegers themselves were slavs, were closely akin to them, or were quickly absorbed by them. to the contrary it is urged that rurik and his followers possessed qualities peculiar to the northmen; that his kingdom in russia resembled other scandinavian colonies, and that certain customs he introduced were foreign to slav habits. vladimir, a direct descendant of rurik, conquered poland; his son, yaroslaf, both on account of his warlike achievements and the splendour in which he lived, was respected throughout europe. his daughters married into the reigning houses of france, hungary and norway; a daughter of vsevolod married henry iv. of germany; vladimir, the grandson of yaroslaf, married gyda, the daughter of harold ii. king of england; their son, mstislaf, married christina, daughter of the king of sweden. such a close connection between the scandinavian and russian courts is not likely to have obtained if the members belonged to different races. scandinavian conquerors to some extent mixed with the peoples whose territory they occupied; usually they married their own race. they fought with each other on matters of precedence and succession; they thought much of personal valour and honour, and lived in the present with little regard to dynasty. they, as little as the slavs to-day, would pay tribute to suzerains. doubtless the varangian leaders and their military companions, subsequently known as the _drujni_ of the russian princes, gave to the slav character love of enterprise and power to initiate--traits which have always distinguished russian nobles from the peasantry. again, the "russkaia pravda" of the tenth century is contemporary with and akin to "knut's code," which the english usually, but wrongly, attribute to king alfred. one other point tells in favour of scandinavian dominion: the freedom accorded to women and the high position some of them took in the state. but their privileges and influence declined with the ascendency of the slav, and the seclusion of women in the asiatic manner subsequently obtained in moscow and lasted there until the days of peter the great. the northmen introduced into russia their system of succession, the _odelsret_ that still prevails in norway. the descendants of rurik, with their military comrades, fought against each other for the throne of kief, or the inheritance of other possessions. as with each succeeding generation the princely family multiplied, the country was rent with dissensions. now the ruler of kief, then he of novgorod became paramount; in the reigning prince of vladimir succeeded, and, for the time, kief became of second importance. the history of russia during the tenth and succeeding centuries is a story of strife and disaster. wars, with varying success, against poles, swedes, lithuanians, and the predatory tribes on the south and east; fires, famine, pestilence, succeeded each other and re-occurred. in kief, the opulent and sacred city, was destroyed by fire; some years later novgorod was depopulated by famine; robbers exacted blackmail from voyagers on the great waterways; trade decayed. in the russians made common cause with their enemy the polovtsi to repel an invasion of tartars; they were beaten and kief fell-- , of its inhabitants being put to the sword. thirteen years later a second invasion of the tartars resulted in the fall of vladimir and the subjection of southern and eastern russia to mongol rule. livonians, swedes and danes attacked novgorod, but were repulsed. pressed on these sides the russians could extend only towards the inhospitable north. in these times and with this environment moscow was founded, and nursed; became a rallying point for the slav race; grew strong and rich; and, by the genius of its rulers, dominated russia. slowly but surely the scandinavian element was absorbed; with ivan i. ( - ) the time of transition practically ended. a new policy of aggrandisement was adopted and the muscovite was evolved from the slav race. round moscow, subject to the tartar yoke, the people became patient and resigned; born to endure bad fortune, they could profit by good. the princes of moscow gained their ends by intrigue, by corruption, by the purchase of consciences, by servility to the tartar khans, by perfidy to their equals, by murder and treachery. "politic and persevering, prudent and pitiless, it is their honour to have created the living germ which became great russia." chapter ii _origin and early history_ "away in the depths of the primeval forest, where one heard the low chanting of the solitary hermit in his retreat, arises the glorious kremlin of moscow town." m. dmitriev. it is generally believed that the word moscow is of finnish origin; in an old dialect _kva_ means water, the exact significance of _mos_ is undecided, probably moskva implies "the-way," simply--the water-route to some trading point reached by this river from the volga and oka. it was the name by which the river was known, and from time immemorial there have been villages on the banks of the stream near the present town of moscow. in the ninth century the hill which the kremlin now covers was virgin forest. according to tradition bookal, a hermit, was living there in , when oleg, on his return to novgorod from kief, paused there and laid the first stone of the city. sulkhovski, who had access to the archives of moscow prior to their removal on the french invasion, asserts that there was documentary proof of this then in existence, but his statement lacks confirmation. the chroniclers make no mention of moscow until . between the foundation of the rurik dynasty and this date the dominion of the northmen had extended, and, divided and subdivided as generation succeeded generation, was split up into many districts, each ruled by a descendant of rurik. these princes all claimed kinship, admitted the rights of their elders and the rule of the head of the house in kief. in addition to the residences of the princes, their _drujni_, that is "war companions" or friends, had "halls," and held, subject to their prince, one or more villages. in the twelfth century one stephen kutchko had his hall near the chisty prud in moscow, and the villages between the moskva and the yauza, with others, were within his lordship. in yuri dolgoruki, the prince of suzdal, in whose country moscow was situated, agreed to meet his kinsmen sviatoslaf and oleg of novgorod on the banks of the moskva river, and thither they came with their _drujni_, and others, all of whom were so sumptuously entertained by yuri, that the fame of moscow and of yuri was noised abroad. as the river moskva was a highway for traffic between suzdal, vladimir and the volga in the east, with smolensk in the west and kief in the south, the villages on its banks were important. the hill on which the kremlin stands appeared to yuri a point of vantage, and, as it was near the boundary of his territory, he there constructed a fortress and also built, or rebuilt or enlarged, the church which served for the inhabitants of the village of kutchkovo hard by, and for those of other villages in the neighbourhood. all chroniclers agree that yuri was the first to make a stronghold of the hill on the moskva; most state further that he put to death stephen kutchko, but attribute this act to different causes. one story has it that yuri wished to wed the wife of stephen, so put him out of the way. as yuri was but recently married to a kinswoman of mstislaf, and so allied to the dominant house in novgorod, this story is improbable. another legend is to the effect that kutchko, proud [illustration: the kremlin, from the moskva] of his village, refused due homage to his superior lord, and so suffered; and another that a village was taken from kutchko to endow andrew bogoloobski, a son of yuri's wedded to the daughter of a neighbouring boyard, whence the trouble. this last story is supported by the fact that later the sons of the killed kutchko conspired against the enriched andrew bogoloobski; one was killed in attacking him, whilst the other succeeded in avenging a wrong done. later historians are of opinion that kutchko was an interloper from black russia or podolia, trespassing on the territory of yuri, who treated him as a usurper. it was in that moscow became a town--just a cluster of dwellings on the kremlin hill with a fence extending from the narrow stream neglinnaia (now a covered sewer under the alexander gardens), from the troitski gate to the moskva at, or near, the tainitski gate. the chief house was built on the spot now covered by the orujnia palata. a church, _spass na boru_, st saviour of the pines, is supposed to have existed where the church of that name, the oldest building in the kremlin, now stands. another church, dedicated to st john the baptist, once existed nearer the foot of the hill, and its altar was removed to the chapel adjoining the borovitski gate when a later erection was demolished. both of these churches were known as "in the wood," and the name still preserves the memory of the thick forest that once covered the hill, and probably extended far and near on both sides of the moskva. the founder of moscow, kniaz yuri dolgoruki vladimirovich, or, as the english call him, prince george long-ith'-arm, vladimir's son, was a son of that prince of kief who married gyda, the daughter of harold ii. of england. yuri, like his father, was a man of great energy and did much to strengthen and improve the towns within his territory. he is described as "above the middle height, stout, fair complexioned, with a large nose, long and crooked; his chin small; a great lover of women, sweet things and liquor; great at merry-makings, and not backward in war." for a century or more moscow remained in obscurity, an insignificant appanage of the younger sons of the princes of suzdal. it was long before any of the reigning house made it a place of residence. in the meantime, a stronghold, it attracted traders and the attention of enemies. gleb of riazan has the distinction of being the first to set fire to the town, but the earliest enemy of importance was the tartar. in the golden horde defeated the slavs in south russia, destroyed kief, marched towards novgorod sverski, then, "without ostensible reason," returned to bokhara, to the camp of their leader, khingiz khan. in baati, a grandson of khingiz, crossed the volga and laid the country waste. on the march of this horde westward moscow was burnt; vladimir was first taken. there the princess and other persons of distinction took refuge in a church, where they were burnt alive. yuri ii., the reigning prince, absent at the time, then attempted revenge and was slain in battle. there was little resistance; the tartars subdued many towns and reduced whole provinces; marched within sixty miles of novgorod sverski, then again "without ostensible cause" turned eastward and left russia. the tartar was not driven from his own country; he raided because it was his nature so to do. the object of these early incursions, as of subsequent raids into russian territory, was "to get stores of captives, both boys and girls, whom they sell to the turks and other neighbouring mahometan countries." rich towns, therefore, could buy the tartar off; a fact [illustration: danilovski monastyr] which influenced the later policy of the muscovites. poor towns and ill-protected districts were, until a comparatively recent period, liable to "slave-raids" from tartars and others. the sultan ahmed i. of constantinople asked of osman, his eldest son and heir, "my osman, wilt thou conquer crete for me?" "what have i to do with crete? i will conquer the land of the white russian girls," answered the boy. and as he thought to do, so many of his race did. it was not until the present century that the exchange of prisoners of war became the practice of turks and russians. the tartars, with their enormous crowd of captives, could not winter in russia, hence their timely withdrawal "without ostensible cause" on several occasions. moscow was soon rebuilt after this tartar invasion. a few years later michael khorobrit, a brother of the successful alexander nevski, ruler of novgorod, succeeded to moscow, and became its first actual prince; but during the war the lithuanians commenced against novgorod in , michael was killed. tradition has it that this michael was the builder of the first cathedral of the archangel in the kremlin. he was succeeded in moscow by daniel, the fourth son of alexander nevski, and thenceforward the fortunes of novgorod and moscow were more in common. moscow was chief of the few villages daniel received as his portion. he made the most of it. in the tartars, under dudenia, fired the town and destroyed the churches, monastery, and all buildings on the kremlin hill. daniel set energetically to work to build a larger and stronger town. he re-erected the church spass na boru; built the cathedral of the archangel, and that of the annunciation; founded the danilof monastery, and incorporated the one known as krutitski. he so added to the town that it quickly became prosperous, and when he died in his son, george, succeeded to a position of wealth and power. daniel was of the line of rurik, and from him were descended the subsequently mighty race of moscow tsars. george acquired mojaisk; then began a struggle with tver, which continued from father to son, lasted eighty years. the quarrel arose from a disputed succession. andrew, prince of suzdal, died in ; george of moscow, his nephew, wished to succeed him. his right to do so was questioned by michael of tver, who was cousin-german of the deceased. michael, the eldest, was accepted by the boyars, and his election was confirmed by the tartars, who claimed the right of appointing the sovereign. george then caused himself to be recognised as a prince of novgorod, and still disputed. michael besieged him in moscow, and for a time there was peace. then george again attempted to obtain tver, and a second time he was forced to take refuge in moscow, which was again besieged by michael. tokhta, khan of the golden horde of tartars on the volga, died; he was succeeded by usbek, to whom george of moscow at once repaired to do homage and obtain favours. he so represented affairs to usbek that he obtained from him his sister kontchaka in marriage, and was adjudged rightful successor to andrew of suzdal. george returned to russia accompanied by a mongol army under a _baskak_, one kavgadi. the boyards still supported michael, who was a great fighter. michael, refusing to submit to kavgadi, was accused of having drawn sword against an envoy of the khan, and later, when kontchaka died, of having poisoned her. to arrange this matter michael, busy in defending his province against other enemies, sent his twelve-year old son to the horde; george went himself and compassed the fall of his rival. the khan reluctantly complied with george's request for a sentence of death upon michael; it was no sooner granted than george hastened away to give it effect, and michael was done to death in his tent by george's servants. michael became a saint; george the all-powerful ruler of moscow, suzdal and novgorod. dmitri, of the "terrible eyes," son of michael, succeeded to tver and determined upon revenge. when at last he met george of moscow he slew him, but for thus going against his superior prince was himself put to death, and his brother, alexander, succeeded him in vladimir in . such is the story of the little wooden town. its rulers--with, possibly, the exception of daniel--regarded it merely as a property, the possession of which might lead to the acquisition of a more important capital. it flourished because it was in the midst of a country that was self-supporting, as well as being conveniently situated as a mart for the interchange of products from north and south, east and west. its disasters were such as other towns suffered; its advantages of site they did not possess. chapter iii _moscow under the mongols_ "at sara, in the lande of tartarie, there dwelled a king who werryed russie." chaucer--_story of cambuscan bold._ the first real prince of moscow was ivan i., surnamed "kalita" (the purser), who of his own right inherited moscow from his father, daniel, and by the grace of the khan, was also grand prince of vladimir in succession to his brother george. he made alliances, matrimonial and other, for himself and his, so adding to his possessions, and by purchase acquiring also uglitch, galitch and bielozersk. like his brother he kept on good terms with the khan. at the command of usbek he made war on tver, novgorod and pskov. the tartar horde and the muscovites fought in concert against russian enemies. when tver rose against the tartar, ivan, with moscow, was on the side of the mongols. when usbek ordered him to produce alexander of tver, who was a fugitive in pskov, ivan induced the metropolitan to interdict alexander and the pskovians--thus a christian prince and people were excommunicated by their own kin at the behest of tartars. ivan "kalita," in his turn, served the church well. peter, the metropolitan of vladimir, had often resided in moscow; theognistus lived there almost constantly; and for ivan, vladimir was only the town in which he had been crowned. it was in moscow that he lived and for moscow he worked. in order to make it attractive to the metropolitan and to obtain for it the religious supremacy which had first belonged to kiev, then to vladimir, he built magnificent churches--notably that of the assumption (uspenski sober)--and was practically successful in so far that moscow had the prestige of a metropolis; but vladimir remained the legal capital, and as such was recognised by the khans. ivan surrounded the hill with a wall of oak in place of the deal fence formerly its sole protection, and he gave to the enclosure the tartar name of "kreml" or fortress. this then included his own dwelling; the cathedrals of the assumption, of the annunciation and of the archangel michael; the churches of _spass na boru_ and of st john the baptist; as also the dwellings of his _drujni_, followers and military companions. it was at his instigation too, that sergius founded the troitsa monastery in order to rival the pecherskoi monastery and catacombs of kiev. ivan knew well the power of money and was free in using it; he was cunning, unscrupulous and discerning. he demanded and obtained from novgorod more than he intended to pay on her behalf to usbek, and was everywhere successful as farmer-general of taxes and imposts made on russia by the horde. when he died, in , he ordered that moscow should not be divided, and he left by far the largest portion of his possessions to his son simeon, surnamed "the proud." simeon, most submissive before the khan, bought over the horde by using his father's treasure. to his brothers he was haughty and overbearing. as intermediary between the tartars and russian states he enjoyed privileges denied to his seniors, and arrogated to himself the title and position of "prince of all the russias." he continued his father's policy in moscow, engaging greek artists to ornament the cathedrals, and many native workmen to enlarge and improve the buildings within the kremlin, spending upon moscow the tribute he exacted from novgorod and other towns. ivan ii. who succeeded him, , was of quite another sort. gentle, pacific, lovable--all outraged him; he would have lost his throne had not the church supported him loyally. moris, a monk, quelled a revolt; a fire destroyed the kremlin; when he died the succession to the title of grand duke, which his three predecessors had made such efforts to keep in the house of moscow, passed to their kinsmen at suzdal. alexis, the metropolitan, saved the supremacy of moscow. after crowning dmitri at vladimir he returned to moscow to take charge of the children of ivan ii. and refused to leave the town. dmitri was in his ninth year when he succeeded his father in moscow, and remained in the tutelage of the church for many years. it was to the prompting of alexis even more than to that of his own kinsmen that the breach of the tartar alliance is due. dmitri availed himself of a division in the tartar horde to question the supremacy of either leader. later he had the courage to visit mamai--who was then the more powerful--and had the good luck to get back alive. seven years later he won a battle against mamai, in riazan. in a fire on all saints' day destroyed the kremlin wall and, a storm raging at the time, moscow was almost in ruins. in the kremlin was surrounded with a new wall--of masonry--and in the following year this was put to the test when an attack was made on moscow by some bands of pagan lithuanians under olgerd, his brother kistut and his subsequently famous nephew vitovt. "olgerd camped before the walls, pillaged the churches and monasteries in the neighbourhood, but did not assault the kremlin, the walls of which frightened him." two years later he returned to the attack, but his enterprise was unsuccessful. in the meantime mamai, the tartar leader, had matured his scheme of revenge. in he had collected his forces and was marching on moscow when dmitri, with the aid of all the neighbouring princes, got together an immense army and determined to give battle. the confederate troops gathered in the kremlin included contingents supplied by the princes of rostov, bielozersk and yaroslaf, and the boyards of vladimir, suzdal, uglitch, serpukhov, dmitrov, mojaisk and other towns. after service in the cathedral they left by the frolovski (spasski) nikolski and other gates in the east wall, escorted by the clergy with crucifixes and miracle-working _ikons_, the troops marching behind a black standard on which was painted a portrait of the saviour on a nimbus of gold. dmitri before advancing against the tartars went to st sergius at the troitsa monastery to ask his blessing, and was there comforted with a prophecy of victory. more, sergius sent two monks, osliabia and peresvet, to encourage the muscovites. they wore a cross on their cowls and went into the thick of the battle. peresvet was found dead on the field tightly grasping a patsinak giant who had slain him. the armies met at kulikovo on the don, where dmitri with his , men after a hard fight obtained the victory, and mamai fled. the battle was really won by the troops of vladimir and dmitri of volhynia, whose men remained in ambush until the best moment for attack came. with historians dmitri, who, badly wounded, was found in a swoon after the battle, is the hero of the day, and he added the name of donskoi to commemorate the victory. sophronius, a priest of riazan, who wrote an epic of the battle, awards chief honours to the monks, and makes st sergius, through them, support the courage of dmitri at critical stages. though mamai was beaten by dmitri, he fought again before he fell into the hands of his rival tamerlane, who put him to death. then tamerlane sent an envoy to dmitri acquainting him with the fact that their common enemy had been vanquished and calling upon him and all russian princes to present themselves to him and make their homage to the horde. dmitri failed to comply, and when the tartars advanced into his territory he tried to raise an army to oppose them. the princes who had promised him support failed to afford it, and dmitri, unable to get , men together, was still waiting reinforcements at kostroma when the tartars under tokhtamysh, a descendant of khingis khan, appeared before the walls of moscow. the defence of the kremlin was in the hands of a lithuanian, ostei, and the tartar attack was repulsed; boiling water being thrown from the towers; stones and baulks of timber dropped from the walls upon the assailants in the ditch. for three days the tartars tried to effect an entrance by force. then tokhtamysh stated that it was not with the people of moscow the tartars were at war, but only with their prince and his companions, inviting those who had sought refuge in the kremlin to come out and occupy their dwellings where they would not be molested. the besieged believed him, and, laden with presents and preceded by the clergy, they went out of the kremlin to meet the enemy as friends. the tartars at once fell upon them, killed ostei and the other leaders, and forced a way into the fortress. the defenders were demoralised, "they cried out like feeble women and tore their hair, making no attempt even to save themselves. the tartars slew without mercy; , perished. they broke into the churches and treasuries, pillaged everywhere, and burned a mass of books, papers and whatever they could not otherwise destroy; not a house was left standing save the few built of stone." after tokhtamysh withdrew dmitri returned and was horrified at the ruin wrought. he is said to have repented of his victory over the tartars at kulikovo, a barren victory after this desolation, and to have called out "our fathers who never triumphed over tartars were less unhappy than we." moscow was quickly rebuilt. when dmitri died in the principality was the largest and most thriving of the states in the north-east of russia. as the horde withdrew the "good companions" from novgorod devastated the country round, but vladimir and moscow alike in having a kremlin on a hill, were far enough away from the volga to escape the attention of these free-booters from the north-west. vasili, the son of dmitri donskoi, succeeded his father, and twice saw his territory invaded by the horde. in he bought a _iarlikh_ of the tartars freeing to him moscow, nijni and suzdal. in , to escape an inroad of the tartars, the celebrated ikon of the virgin (see frontispiece) was brought from vladimir to moscow, but the tartars did not venture so far. this time they stopped at eletz-on-the-don, pillaged azov--where much egyptian, venetian, genoese, biscayan and other merchandise was warehoused--and returned to tartary sacking sarai and astrakhan on their way thither. during these turbulent times moscow increased in importance. the two years of peace dmitri secured after his victory at kulikovo he used to strengthen the defences. already, in , he had substituted a wall of masonry for the old wood rampart round the kremlin; now handsome gates with towers were added. its finest church at this period was that of the transfiguration, more usually styled "spass na boru," which, built in stone in , had been considerably enlarged and a monastery attached; there were the cells in or near the church building, vaults below it for secreting treasure, a hospital for the infirm, and a cemetery for the princes, but their tombs were subsequently transferred to the archangelski sobor. within the kremlin, or near by, were the monasteries of chudof (miracles), vossnesenski (ascension), bogoyavlenni (epiphany), rojdestvenski (nativity), st alexis, st peter the apostle, of daniel, simon, and spasso-preobrajenni (the transfiguration). to commemorate the withdrawal of tamerlane, vasili founded the monastery of the sretenka (meeting). he made a fosse across the town from the field of kuchko to the river moskva, and later surrounded the town with a stone wall. a strong place now; the lesser nobles, cadets of the house of rurik, took up their residence in moscow and shared its fortune. in the lithuanians aided by the tartars laid siege to moscow, a siege which is memorable from the fact that cannons were then first used in its defence, though mamai had brought genoese gunners against dmitri twenty years earlier. ediger led the assault, and, though his forces had to retreat, the boyards of moscow paid to him roubles as a war indemnity; the monastery of st sergius at troitsa was burned, the surrounding country pillaged and the peasants ruthlessly slaughtered. it cannot be said that the first vasili did much for moscow. he was in retreat at kostroma when the inhabitants of the town, led by "vladimir the brave," successfully defended it; both pestilence and famine were frequent during his reign of thirty-six years, and at his death the succession was disputed. in yuri attempted to revert to the ancient custom of succession of the eldest, and claimed the throne from vasili ii., the son of vasili i. to avoid war it was agreed to refer the matter to the horde for settlement. vsevoloshski, a boyard of moscow, advanced the most potent argument on behalf of vasili. "my lord tsar," he said to ulu mahomet, "let me speak, me, the slave of the grand prince. my master prays for the throne, which is thy property, having no other title but thy protection, thy investiture and thy _iarlikh_. thou art master and can dispose of it at thy pleasure. my lord, the prince yuri dmitrovich, my master's uncle, claims the throne of the grand prince by the act and will of his father, but not as a favour from the all powerful." this flattery had a suitable reward; the khan appointed vasili to the throne, and ordered yuri to lead his nephew's horse by the bridle. vasili ii. was crowned at moscow, not at vladimir, and the supremacy of moscow was admitted. vasili was to have married a daughter of vsevoloshski, but instead married a grand-daughter of vladimir the brave, the defender of moscow. the offended boyard went over to the side of yuri and fanned his resentment. yuri's two sons, vasili, the squint-eyed, and chemiaki were present at the marriage festivities of vasili, whose mother, the princess sophia, seeing round the waist of the young vasili a belt of gold that had belonged to dmitri donskoi, there and then seized it from him. the brothers took umbrage at this open affront; forthwith they [illustration: spass na boru (st saviour's in the wood)] left moscow and induced their father to take up arms. at kostroma, vasili ii. fell into the power of yuri, who spared his life and gave him kostroma as an appanage, betaking himself to moscow. thereupon the inhabitants of moscow deserted the town and took up residence with their prince in kostroma. owing to the popularity of vasili ii., yuri was powerless and sent to him at kostroma inviting him to return to his own. on his return the people crowded round him "like bees round their queen." later, vasili, the squint-eyed, fell into the hands of vasili ii., who had his eyes put out; then at once repenting the act, set free his brother chemiaki, and war again broke out between them. chemiaki with a host of free lances "good companions" and such men as he could get together besieged moscow. then in came the tartar horde and vasili could get but , men together to oppose them. he made a valiant struggle, but, wounded in fifteen places, he was taken prisoner to kazan. moscow was in despair: tver insulted her and chemiaki intrigued to get himself made prince. then the khan suddenly agreed to liberate vasili ii. for a small ransom, and soon the prince was in his capital again. he went forthwith to troitsa to return thanks for his escape. during his absence, chemiaki surprised the kremlin and there captured the wife and mother of vasili and took all the treasure. hurrying after vasili to troitsa, he made him prisoner, brought him back to moscow, and in put out his eyes in revenge for the like act upon his brother vasili. chemiaki, some time afterwards, left moscow to go against the tartars; the town revolted during his absence and vasili was once more restored to the throne, which as "vasili the blind" he held until his death in . it is not easy to account for the popularity of vasili ii.; possibly the detestation in which chemiaki was held made the mild virtues of vasili more prominent; for in the language of the people, a "judgment of chemiaki" is, proverbially, tantamount to a crying wrong. events outside russia strengthened the supremacy of moscow. at the council of florence ( ) pope eugene suggested the union of the eastern and western churches, and amongst the many representatives of the eastern church present isidor, the metropolitan of moscow, agreed to the proposal and signed the act of union. how mark, bishop of ephesus, protested, and at last carried the greeks with him in repudiating the union, is no part of this history. isidor having accepted, introduced the latin cross, made use of the name of the pope in the services and so astonished the russians that vasili interfered. he reproached isidor for his bad faith, and in dismay the prelate fled to rome. in mahomet ii. entered constantinople. there was no longer a christian emperor of the east, and moscow became the heir of constantinople and the metropolis of orthodoxy. ivan, the artist-monk of constantinople, brought to moscow such of the holy relics as he could save, and, what is more, by his own genius impressed upon the muscovite priesthood a love of culture to which moscow had hitherto been a stranger. ivan iii., styled "the uniter of russia," was twenty-two years of age when, in , he succeeded his father vasili, the blind. he continued the policy of the princes of moscow and early obtained a success against the tartars of kazan. in he married sophia, a daughter of thomas paleologus, a brother of the last emperor of byzantium, and this union, with a member of the race that had so long held sway over all orthodox christianity, greatly influenced his policy. his wife, less patient than the russians, found the mongol yoke unbearable. "how long am i to be the slave of tartars?" she would ask, and there is little doubt that it is to her urging that ivan became aggressive. he was not personally courageous, preferring to remain in moscow, and allow his people to fight on the frontiers of russia; when forced into the field, his method was to avoid giving battle and wear out the enemy with delays, retreats, and puzzling, irritating marches and counter-marches. in he conquered perm; in he was successful against novgorod the great; in he openly rebelled against the khan; in he pushed the confines of russia to petchora on the arctic sea. he was a puzzle to his enemies, gaining victories over lithuanians, livonians and siberians, without leaving the kremlin. stephen of moldavia said of him, "ivan is a strange man; he stays quietly at home yet triumphs over his enemies, whilst i, although always on horseback, cannot defend my own country." born a despot he was initiated into the mysteries of autocratic government by his wife. cold, cruel and cunning, he brooked no opposition where he thought he could triumph; was an arrant coward whenever the issue was doubtful. when he vanquished novgorod, he brought the boyards to moscow, and settled them there; three years later he tortured some, and put others to death. he was relentless in punishing rebellion, no matter what the rank of the offender. he whipped prince oukhtomski, and ordered the archimandrite of a monastery to be flogged; mutilated the counsellors of his son, cowed the boyards, burnt alive poles who had conspired against him; pillaged the german traders of goods to the value of £ , , and played the tyrant so thoroughly that even when he slept no boyard "durst open his mouth in whispers" for fear of disturbing his master's slumber. towards the great horde he was both respectful and recalcitrant. he repulsed the invasions of adventurers into his territory; avoided the payment of tribute by sending costly presents regularly. but in , when khan akhmet sent envoys with his image to receive tribute, ivan openly rebelled; put all the messengers to death, save one; trampled the image of the khan under foot, spat on the edict, and allowed this news to reach the khan. when the enraged tartars advanced towards moscow, ivan wished to remain in the city, but the inhabitants would have no shirking. "what! he has overtaxed us, refused to pay tribute to the horde, and now that he has enraged the khan, though he does not want to fight, he must--and shall." ivan journeyed about from one town to another, returning to moscow on various pretexts. he wished to consult the clergy, the boyards, his mother, anybody. the answer was always the same, "march against the enemy!" forced to go south, he wished to send his son back to moscow, but the young ivan disobeyed. archbishop vassian urged ivan to go to the front. "is it part of mortals to fear death? we cannot escape destiny; a good shepherd will, at need, lay down his life for his flock." but this prompting did not suffice. vassian at last lost patience, wrote a bellicose letter to ivan, recounting the deeds of his heroic ancestors, from igor sviatoslaf to dmitri donskoi. ivan assured him that this letter "filled his heart with joy, himself with courage and strength"; but another fortnight passed, and ivan had not advanced a step. when at last the two armies came within sight of each other, the streams oogra and oka separated them. they insulted each other bravely across the water, but not daring to ford, waited until the river should be frozen. when this happened, ivan at once gave orders for his forces to withdraw. seeing the army in motion an inexplicable panic seized the tartars, and they hastened away. both armies were in flight, and no one pursuing. in such pitiful fashion did the mongol supremacy terminate. for more than three centuries moscow had acknowledged the rule of the golden horde, now a thoroughly demoralised rabble. the remnants in their flight south were opposed by the nogay and krim tartars, and defeated. the khan akhmet was then put to death by his own men. ivan next sent his voievodes or "war-leaders" against kazan; in they took it and made alegam, its commander, a prisoner. in his boyhood ivan had been imprisoned in kazan by his tartar enemies, and so now was able to turn the tables on them completely. his next act exemplifies his statesmanship. instead of annexing kazan to moscow he gave the crown to the nephew of his powerful ally, the khan of the krim tartars. this khan could not ask for the release of alegam, because he was an enemy of his own nephew, the newly installed ruler of kazan; but the leaders of the khivan and nogay tartars, who were related to him, felt that islam had been wronged, and despatched an envoy to moscow praying for alegam's release. ivan declined, but did so graciously, and gave no offence. he made the envoys presents, and sent to their leaders other presents, much foreign cloth and trinkets for their wives, whom he styled his sisters. ivan did not treat directly with the envoys, making use of the western method of conducting negotiations through an officer of his court. ivan took the two-headed eagle as the arms of his country. its early form is still to be seen on the wall of granovitaia palace in the kremlin. the device of st george and the dragon, which yuri dolgoruki the founder of moscow used, was from this time more closely associated with the city of moscow, and the eagle taken as the arms of the ruler. when it became necessary for ivan to appoint his successor he hesitated, and at last made choice of dmitri, the son of ivan, his eldest child, then dead. his wife advanced the claims of her own son vasili; his daughter-in-law, ivan's widow, her own son. having proclaimed dmitri heir, he threw vasili into prison and degraded his wife; then he changed his mind, imprisoned his daughter-in-law and grandson, and proclaimed vasili his heir. in he died, and vasili was at once crowned ruler of moscow. chapter iv _moscow of the princes_ "as pearls thy thousand crowns appear, thy hands a diamond sceptre hold, thy domes, thy steeples, bright and clear seem sunny rays in eastern gold."--dmitriev. vasili iii. succeeded his father and reigned in moscow for nearly thirty years. from the historical point of view, he is unfortunate, as he followed a sovereign recognised as "great," whose conquests and innovations changed the destiny of moscow, and was succeeded by a ruler, who, by his barbarities, won for himself the surname of "terrible." vasili iii. was not a warrior, and when he made war it was by preference against slavonic peoples in the west. his chief delight was in building: churches, monasteries, city-walls, palaces--none of these came amiss to him; he constructed some of all, leaving moscow much stronger, richer and more beautiful than he found it. he made the most of such services as the italian masters could render, but in those times, all that was done in moscow in any one age appears to have been executed at the command of the reigning prince. the houses of the nobility have all disappeared, and to the date of vasili iii. there appear to have been no founders of churches in moscow, other than the princes. not that these necessarily found the labour or material; as often as not a church was built from the proceeds of a fine laid upon some town or government at the pleasure of the prince. vasili was the first to build a stone palace in the kremlin, that known as the granovitaia, which is still standing. but herberstein wrote that vasili would not live in it, preferring his old palace of wood. during his reign the tartars got as near moscow as the sparrow hills; there they sacked the royal palace and cellars containing large stores of mead. they became intoxicated with the liquor and advanced no further, but the leader obtained from vasili a treaty in which he acknowledged the sovereignty of the horde and promised yearly tribute. vasili's voievodes at riazan, thinking the terms shameful, intercepted the returning tartars, routed them, and got back the treaty. the following year, goaded to action, vasili got an army together and went out towards the khan, challenging him to battle. the khan answered that he knew the way into russia, and was not in the habit of asking his enemies when he should fight. in revenge for this insult, vasili established a fair at makharief, on the volga; it ruined the mart of kazan and was subsequently moved to nijni-novgorod, where it is still held yearly. vasili married first, solomonia saburov, but, as after twenty years of married life she had no son, he forced her to take the veil and married helena glinski, of lithuania. this gave great offence to the church; when he sent specially to the highest authority on the technical question, mark, patriarch of jerusalem, is reported to have made the following remarkable prediction:-- "shouldst thou contract a second marriage thou shalt have a wicked son; thy states shall become a prey to terrors and tears; rivers of blood shall flow; the heads of the mighty shall fall; thy cities shall be devoured by flames." vasili disregarded the decision of the church and married a most able and enlightened woman, who had the foresight to surround the kitai gorod with a wall of good masonry, and it is said, named that part of the town after a similarly designated enclosure in her native place. she bore vasili two sons, ivan, the tsarevich, who was later the "terrible" tsar, succeeding to the throne in , when but three years of age. the younger son, yuri, fared badly at the hands of his cruel brother. [illustration: kitai gorod, ilyinka gate] the moscow of the princes was of wood, and the vestiges remaining are unimportant. some of the later buildings, as the palace of the terem and towers of the kremlin wall, have been built in the style of the wooden erections they replaced; but it is not easy to picture moscow as it was before ivan's italian workmen raised their walls of brick and stone. the town was of great size; in it contained , dwellings and , inhabitants. its circumference was nearly twelve miles. the grand prince and his relations lived in the kremlin; so did a few of the richest and most powerful nobles. in the kitai gorod lived the traders, the wealthy boyards and foreigners. the bielo gorod, "white" or free town, was occupied by boyards, merchants and privileged citizens; in the outer ring lived the artisans and labourers. the churches and chapels were numerous. ivan kalita built ten when there were already eighteen in the town, in ; in the reign of vasili iii. there were as many monasteries and nunneries, and upwards of three score churches and chapels. the first dwelling in the kremlin was the prince's habitation, originally called the prince's apartment, which served only as a _pied à terre_ for the prince when passing through. when moscow became a place of residence then a house was put up near where the great palace now is. then followed the usual dependences; including a prison or dungeon. even at that early date the russian carpenters were able craftsmen; how expert they afterwards became the wonderful wooden palaces and churches of russia accurately demonstrate. the princes of moscow were not extravagant, their palaces consisting of four chambers, _en suite_--the one most distant from the entrance was the sleeping-room; then, adjoining it, the oratory or private chapel; the room for living or affairs of the town, the anti-chamber; the vestibule; add kitchens and domestic rooms on a lower floor, and the early palaces of the russian princes is complete. vasili iii. required no more; his palace in the kremlin consisted, on the _bel étage_, of the vestibule, an anti-chamber, and two rooms. in a separate building, reached by a corridor or covered staircase, the bathroom and storerooms. above the _bel étage_, either a large open loft, or a belvedere pierced with windows on all sides and communicating with the terrace. the apartments reserved for the children, and for relations of the sovereign, were in separate buildings offering similar accommodation. the roof was invariably ornamented with carved wood-work and with gay colours. the distinctive colour for the windows of the terem was red. further ornamentation consisted in shaping the roof conical, making it arched or in superposing cones on two arches; these were furnished with small grills and covered with shingles. each house had its private chapel, so the agglomeration of connected buildings that constituted a palace in the kremlin in old days contained many chapels, and they now number more than a dozen. apart from these private chapels within the palace, the princes used the churches for the safer keeping of their treasure. ivan iii. used the church of st lazarus now in the palace for his treasury; his wife, the church of st john the baptist, near the borovitski gate. to steal from the church was sacrilege, to take from the house of even the tsar, simply robbery. the churches were used as treasuries also by the nobles, and doubtless much of the church-plate throughout russia was originally deposited for safe keeping, whilst the owners went against tartars or livonians. all the churches were rich, and all, time after time, were spoiled by invaders; thus hiding-places were made in or near all the old churches. near the residence of the ruler were the very similar dwellings of the minor princes. in the days of vasili iii., of grand dukes even, for, as moscow conquered other principalities, their former rulers were brought to the kremlin and lived under the surveillance of the "grand prince of all the russias," rendering him such military service as he demanded. in time these nobles became an element of danger, intriguing for the succession and quarrelling among themselves for precedence. vasili iii. was the first ruler to treat them harshly and he spared none, not even his own near relatives if he thought they aspired to the succession. to render them less dangerous they were not employed as war-leaders, men of lower rank, the drujni of the tsar and other princes being entrusted with command in the field and acting also as governors of provinces. burned down time after time and usually put up again in wood, moscow, with all its conflagrations, was nearly three centuries before it contained a dwelling-house of brick or stone, and more than two before enclosed with a wall. the reason being that stones of any kind were scarce in the neighbourhood of moscow, whilst wood was plentiful. with a palace in the kremlin the rulers soon set to work to have palaces elsewhere. the one at the sparrow hills seems to have been most often resorted to in the early days, but with the advent to russia of sophia paleologus and the introduction of western customs, not only was the single palace found inadequate, but ivan's successors all built dwellings in the forest or in villages near moscow where they could go for sport, or when driven from town by fire, pestilence or revolt. the most pressing need of the rulers of moscow when they entered into relations with the west was a hall for entertaining visitors. it was for this purpose that the granovitaia (chequered) palace was constructed by the italian workmen ivan induced to work in moscow for the then high wages of ten roubles a month. it was at this period that the tsars began to evolve a special court etiquette. previously anyone who could force his way through the throng by whom the princes were surrounded might speak with them. from the first the court etiquette, though not elaborate, was firmly insisted upon. those who came to the palace had to dismount at some distance from the grand entrance, and approach it on foot. this accounts for the joy of bowes, the english envoy, who rode right up to the grand entrance before dismounting. those officers sent to meet foreign envoys had orders not to be the first to dismount; if the envoy knew the etiquette the parties on meeting would sit for hours facing each other, then agree to dismount simultaneously. herberstein held back after throwing his feet out of the stirrups, so was last to touch earth, and he counts this a gain to his master. common people and lower nobles were not allowed to pass the tsar's residence covered, and "must uncover as soon as it is within view." "the city is built of wood and tolerably large, and at a distance appears larger than it really is, for the gardens and spacious courtyards in every house make a great addition to the size of the town, which is again greatly increased by the houses of the smiths and other artificers who use fires. these houses extend in a long row at the end of the city, interspersed with fields and meadows. moreover not far from the city are some small houses, and the other side of the river some villas where, a few years ago, the tsar built a new city for his courtiers, who had the privilege of the tsar to drink at all seasons, which was forbidden to most, who were free to drink only at eastertide and christmas. for that reason the nali, or drinkers, separated themselves from intercourse with the rest of the inhabitants to avoid corrupting them by their mode of living. not far from the city are some monasteries, which of themselves appear like a great city to persons viewing them from a distance."--_herberstein._ in addition to the gilded domes of its cathedrals, and the bright red roofs of its palaces, during the reign of vasili iii. moscow commenced to accumulate other ornamental work quite as wondrous to the pilgrims from other russian towns. aleviso of florence is unusually credited with the work upon the doors and lintels of the old churches within the palace, the porches of the vossnesenski, blagovieshchenski, and other cathedrals within the kremlin. the gilded and embossed metal work of the doors, the carved and bright-coloured columns and lintels, impressed visitors with the wealth of moscow since the precious metals were so lavishly employed for merely decorative purposes. there are not many specimens of the work of this period still in existence, such as remain are now for the most part preserved _within_ the palace instead of being, as formerly, exposed to the weather; but practically the whole of the wooden moscow of the princes was destroyed by fires during the reign of ivan iv. [illustration: terem--entrance to chapel of st lazarus] chapter v _ivan the terrible_ "a right scythian, full of readie wisdom, cruell, bloudye, mercilesse."--_horsey._ most conspicuous of all the monuments of the past moscow contains, is the great weird building familiarly known as the church of vasili blajenni; as monstrous and impressive is the era that produced it. the half century during which ivan the terrible reigned over muscovy is a unique period in the history of russia. and not that of russia only, for in no country at any time have so many and diverse outrages been perpetrated at one man's command. disasters resulting from human ambition and folly sully the history of every land, but all histories are spotless in comparison with that of moscow under its first tsar--a creature of unparalleled ferocity and inconceivable wickedness. ivan was the son of the crafty vasili ivanovich in his dotage; of helena glinski, a fiery-natured lithuanian woman, passionate as a spaniard, reckless as a tartar. but if his parentage was unpromising his upbringing was worse. he and his mother had many enemies, the members of princely houses in vassalage in moscow but with aspirations to the throne. these men, mostly relations of the tsar, were insistent upon the rules of precedence, both for the gratification of their own vanity, and as of possible importance in the event of a tsar dying without direct heir. for this reason all the tsars were merciless towards their relatives on their father's side, and looked for help from the relations of their mother and wife, who had most to gain from the succession being maintained in a direct line. helena, as regent, appears to have governed well. she did not marry again, thus the rights of ivan and his brother yuri were not endangered by her. her lover, kniaz telepniev, for a time kept at bay the rival factions of the more powerful nobles, and possibly was instrumental in thwarting the plots of the glinski. at helena's command two of her relatives were executed for conspiring against the infant tsar. she enclosed the kitai gorod with a wall of stone; improved the defences of moscow in other ways, gave the people a new coinage, founded monasteries, built churches, and continued the policy of the rulers of moscow. five years after her husband's death she died suddenly, of poison it is said, and the rumour may be credited. in , ivan, then in his eighth year, and his brother yuri, his junior by eighteen months, were left to the mercies of the most powerful factions about the court. they were neglected; ivan himself said of this period, "we two were treated as strangers: even as the children of beggars are served. we were ill clothed, cold, and often went hungry." jealous of each other the courtiers would not allow the princes to attach themselves to anyone. if ivan felt drawn to anyone, or any person took notice of him, all the others combined to separate the two. the shooiskis were then the most powerful family, and shooiski treated ivan with scant consideration. his tutors encouraged him to ride at full speed through the streets and try to knock down the old and feeble; they allowed him to have animals tortured for his diversion, and laughed with him at their plight when flung from the roof of the palace. ivan learned to read, and spelled through all the books he could obtain. from these old chronicles,--from those of the kings of israel, to the doings of his own ancestors--he seems to have obtained the idea of the powers of sovereignty. a close observer he noticed that although ordinarily he was treated as of little account, when any act of state had to be done he was always summoned to give the command. young as he was, ivan knew his importance. one day, when he was thirteen years old, he went out sporting with gluiski, and gluiski incited him to repress the arrogance of shooiski. ivan did it by having shooiski pulled out into the street and worried to death there and then by gluiski's hounds. from that time ivan treated all with cruelty. in his eighteenth year he arrogated to himself the title of tsar--the name by which all great rulers were designated in the old slavonic books he had read. in the same year, , he married anastasia romanof, and in that year the inhabitants of moscow, tired of his cruelties, repeatedly fired the town. in april the merchants' stores were fired, probably by robbers intent upon gain; the fire spread, destroying the stores of the tsar, the monastery of the epiphany, and most of the houses in the kitai gorod. on the th of the same month the streets of the artisans along the yauza suffered, and on the st june, during a high wind, a fire started on the far side of the neglinnaia, in the arbat, and this spread to the kremlin and destroyed there the whole of the wooden buildings. the inhabitants could save nothing, and the night was made more hideous by frequent explosions as the fire reached one powder magazine and another. the palaces, the tribunals, the treasuries, armouries, warehouses, all were destroyed. all books, deeds, pictures and ikons were lost, with few exceptions. the metropolitan, the aged macarius, was praying in the cathedral and refused to leave; he was forcibly removed, placed in a basket and lowered from the kremlin wall near the tainitski gate; the rope broke, he fell to the ground, and was taken more dead than alive to the novo spasski monastery. there was not time to remove the holy ikons. the fire after destroying the roof of the cathedral burnt out, and the celebrated ikon of the virgin of vladimir was saved. the ruins smouldered for a week. seventeen hundred perished in the flames. the tsar withdrew to the sparrow hills so as not to see the distress of the people. the survivors, their beards burnt, their faces blackened, fought among the embers for the vestiges of what had been theirs. church and court alike forsook the spot. an earnest priest, sylvester, forced himself upon the terrified tsar, upbraided him for his excesses, and exhorted him to lead a better life. ivan, always an arrant coward, now completely unnerved, at once came under the influence of the priest. he took as his counsellor one adashef, a man of good repute and some wisdom. for thirteen years he and sylvester administered the law and dictated the policy of the country. in anastasia they had an able assistant and firm friend. their first act was directed towards limiting the power of the tsar; at their behest he called together an assembly of the people to advise him. they compiled a code of laws, the sudebnik, and the stoglaf, this last the decrees of the council (zemstvo) held at moscow in and shortly afterwards sylvester issued his "domostroi"--household law, teaching how to live as godfearing men and prove good husbandmen. the tsar, earnest in his new rôle, paid great attention to his spiritual advisers. when twenty-one he exhorted them to "thunder in mine ears the voice of god that my soul may live." in he was persuaded to lead an expedition against the tartars of kazan. the army was strong and well equipped. with wonderful foresight, a neighbouring town had been well stocked with provisions and was used as a base for the besiegers. after a stubborn resistance ivan's army of , took the town, and slaughtered the defenders. on this occasion ivan is said to have displayed considerable courage, and when he saw the bodies of the slain tartars, to have regretted their death, saying, "for though of another faith they are human beings even as ourselves." too soon he returned to moscow, and the newly-conquered province rebelled. ivan then was very ill, "a fever so great all thought him at the point of death." ivan thought his last hour was at hand and summoned the nobles to take the oath of fealty to his son dmitri, whom he nominated his successor. some refused, others hesitated: zakharin-yurief alone, was earnest and ready in his allegiance. he was a near kinsman of the tsarina and so, more than any, was interested in the welfare of dmitri. others intrigued for the succession. the tsar lying helpless on his couch heard the boyards and counsellors discussing their plans in the adjoining apartment. even sylvester and his trusted counsellor alexis adashef, favoured the succession of vladimir, ivan's cousin. ivan recovered, but for a time he acted as though he had forgotten what he overheard on his sick bed. he never forgave. his wife, anastasia, also withdrew her friendship from those who had opposed her son's succession. then ivan made a visit to the monastery at bielo ozersk--the white lake--and there he saw the aged vassian, the old counsellor of his father, who gave him advice contrary to that so earnestly and frequently dinned into his ears by sylvester and adashef. "if you wish to become absolute monarch," said vassian, "seek no counsellor wiser than yourself. never take advice from any: instead, give it. command, never obey. then will you become a sovereign in all truth." this advice pleased ivan. "my father himself," he answered, "could not have given wiser counsel." ivan could wait for his triumph over his associates. he went now to the volga again, completed the conquest of kazan, and his troops pressed on as far as astrakhan, which they took after slight resistance. in moscow ivan kept the grand-dukes, princes, and boyards his nearest relatives; his voievodes, or military leaders, were men of good birth, but with no claim on the succession. under the administration of adashef, the outlying parts of the tsar's dominions were so effectually governed that when the english ships first appeared on the white sea, chancellor was not allowed to trade, or penetrate into the interior of the country, until the permission of the tsar had been received from moscow. in anastasia died, and ivan fretted under the constant surveillance of sylvester. he was always at hand, entreating the tsar to shew mercy, and to live straightly. both sylvester and adashef retired within a short time of anastasia's death. for bad generalship in lithuania, adashef was imprisoned in the fortress of dorpat, where he died shortly afterwards. sylvester was ready enough to send the tsar and his russian armies to war against the tartars and infidels; he opposed wars with livonia, lithuania and poland, where ivan was particularly desirous of extending his dominion. on the withdrawal of these counsellors again commenced the murders and massacres in which ivan delighted. historians divide these into seven cycles; it is a purely arbitrary division--with the exception of the thirteen years - , during which he was wedded to anastasia and engaged in foreign wars, the whole of his long reign was given to terrorising his subjects. obolenski was the first noble killed by ivan himself; repnin was murdered whilst at his devotions in church; another was slain simply because he remonstrated with the tsar for such a display of cruelty. ivan always used the hour of victory to exterminate foes, and he now relentlessly hunted down all his past advisers and their friends. he was determined on absolute supremacy. "to shew his soveraintie over the lives of his subjects, ivan in his walks, if he disliked the face or person of any man he met by the way, or that looked at him, would command his head to be struck off. there and then the thing was done, and the head cast before him." dismayed, some of his nobles fled to the west; among them was kniaz kourbski, who, not content simply to take service under sigismund, acquainted the tsar by letter with the fact. kniaz vasili chibanov was the bearer. ivan received him on the krasnoe kriltso, and there, with his sharp staff, pinned to the floor the foot of chibanov, who never stirred a muscle during the whole time the long letter was read aloud. then chibanov was put to the torture, to obtain particulars of the flight of kourbski, and the names of his partisans in moscow; but chibanov confessed not a word, and in the midst of the most horrible torment praised his master, and counted it a joy to suffer thus for him. generally ivan studied to keep on good terms with the common people--whom he feared; by them he was worshipped. macarius, the metropolitan, complained that "he who blasphemes his maker, meets with forgiveness amongst men, he who reviles the tsar is sure to lose his head." ivan chose as his companions the worst people whom he could find. at one time he withdrew from moscow, taking umbrage at the prelates, still too powerful to be touched. the people clamoured for his return. "the tsar has forsaken us: we are lost, who will now defend us against the enemy? what are sheep without the shepherd? let him punish all who deserve it: has he not the power over life and death? the state cannot endure without its head, and we will not acknowledge any other than he whom god has given us." this was gratifying to ivan. he consented to govern again if the church would not exercise its prerogative of mercy, and would leave him to do his will. his return was followed by murders and outrages worse than before. randolph, who in , was in muscovy on an embassy from england, with which country ivan wished to be on the best of terms, was not allowed to enter moscow, because, count yuri tolstoi thinks, ivan wished to keep from him the knowledge of these massacres. randolph wrote to cecil:-- "of the tsar's condition i have learned that of late he hath beheaded no small number of his nobility, causing their heads to be laid on the streets, to see who durst behold them or lament their deaths. the chancellor he caused to be executed openly, leaving neither wife, children, nor brother alive. divers others have been cut to pieces by his command." during the third cycle of ivan's outrages, philip, the metropolitan, in , dared to upbraid the tsar. ivan with a crowd of his irreligious followers, disguised in the cloaks they wore when sallying forth to rapine and outrage, repaired to the uspenski sobor for a blessing before starting on their fearful work. the metropolitan refused to recognise ivan so clad when called upon for his benediction. "what is the thing thou hast done then, o tsar, that thou shouldst put off from thee the form of thine honour? fear the judgment of god, to whom we are here making a pure sacrifice. behind the altar the innocent blood of christian men is made to flow by thee! among pagans, in the country of the infidel, are laws, and justice, and compassion shown to men, but in russia now is nothing of this kind. the lives and goods of citizens are without defence. everywhere pillage, on all sides murder, and each and all these crimes are committed in the name of the tsar. there is a judge on high--how shall you present yourself before that tribunal? dare you appear there covered with the blood of innocents, deaf to their cries of pain? even the very stones beneath your feet cry aloud to heaven for vengeance on such black deeds as are done here. o prince, i speak to thee as the shepherd, fearing none but the lord our god." ivan enraged, stuck his staff into the ground, and swore to be as bad as philip described him. vasili pronski was the first to suffer in the murders that followed closely upon this scene, but ivan did not forget philip. one of the soldiers was ordered to present himself before the metropolitan and wear the tartar skull cap; the metropolitan noticed this irreverence, and turned to the leader for a command that the man should uncover. in the meantime the man did so, and philip was accused of lying. the boyard, alexis basmanov, with a troop of armed men and having the tsar's _fiat_ in his hand, arrested philip whilst officiating at high mass in the uspenski sobor, and read out that by the decree of the clergy, philip was deposed from his high office. the people were surprised and stupefied. the soldiers seized philip, tore his vestments from him, and chased him from the church with besoms. he was first taken to the monastery of the epiphany, next to an obscure prison where he was loaded with irons. whilst there, the head of his well-beloved nephew, ivan borisovich, was thrown to him. a crowd gathered near the prisoner's cell, and the people spake with each other of his goodness. it frightened ivan, and he had philip removed to the monastery at tver, where he was subsequently strangled by skutarov on the tsar's journey through the town on the way to novgorod. as a condition for his consent to reside in moscow, ivan stipulated for a bodyguard of his own choosing. these men, the öpritchniki, that is, "picked" fellows, became the terror of moscow. selected for their readiness to obey, their bodily strength and lack of morals, they recognised no master but ivan, and by him were privileged to rob and slay the people as they wished, providing they were at hand to kill anyone in particular whom he might want out of the way. they carried bludgeons with heads carved to represent those of dogs, at the saddle bow, and a small besom at the other end, the "speaking symbols" of their intention to hunt down rebels and sweep russia clean. by their callousness and brutality they, on many occasions, distinguished themselves in a manner that gladdened ivan, but at no time did their excesses excel their performance on the march to novgorod. ivan, very suspicious of treason, doubted the fidelity of novgorod, a town with known predilections for freedom, and inclined to favour the more enlightened rule of the western kings than the russian autocrat. a hired traitor placed a forged letter behind an image in novgorod church, and disclosed the plot to ivan, whose agents found the compromising letter, which contained overtures to the lithuanians; ivan started to subdue the town. the öpritchniks preceded him. klin, a thriving town near moscow, was sacked; the inhabitants of tver were spoiled, and many murdered. on their way the advance guard killed all whom they met, lest any should know where the tsar was. villages and towns were annihilated. monks had to find twenty roubles each as ransom; those who could not were thrashed from morning until night, then, when ivan arrived on the scene, were flogged to death. on his arrival at novgorod he was entertained by the people; during the banquet served to him and his followers he gave a loud cry--the signal for his fellows to begin the slaughter. the tsar and his son went to an enclosure specially reserved for the torture of their victims, and with their lances prodded those who were not quickly enough dragged to the place of torment. chroniclers say that from to were slain in cold blood before him each day of his stay. some were burned, some racked to death, others drowned in the volkhof, run in on sledges or thrown in from the bridge--soldiers in boats spearing those who swam. infants were empaled before the eyes of their mothers, husbands butchered along with their wives. novgorod, at that time larger and of greater commercial importance than moscow, was so injured that she has never since acquired the rank of even a third-rate town. on leaving it, ivan called together a few starving survivors, and commanded them to obey the laws and fear him. he went on to pskov, where the town was saved by the boldness of a half-witted hermit, who offered ivan raw meat on a fast-day, and threatened him that he would be struck by lightning if any citizen of pskov was injured whilst ivan remained in the town. an accident to his horse seemed to ivan an earnest of the "holy-man's" power, and he left the town precipitately. according to horsey, ivan at this time had a tartar army with him, and tried to reduce other towns in livonia. at reval, men and women carried water by night to repair the breaches in the walls made by his cannon during the day, and ivan, losing six thousand men, in the end had to retreat in shame. losing more men before narva, he put in execution there "the most bloody and cruellest massacre that ever was heard of in any age," giving the spoil of the town to his tartars. following the custom of his country, the prisoners of war were all brought as slaves to moscow, many dying on the way, some, including scotch and english soldiers of fortune in the pay of the swedes, thrown into prison in moscow and there subsequently tortured and executed. [illustration: alarm tower] these excursions of ivan and his men into distant parts of his dominions afforded the muscovites some respite from his attentions. the english then there were much impressed by the cruelties of ivan, though themselves escaping. jerom horsey thus describes ivan's invasion of novgorod:-- "o the lamentable outcries and cruel slaughters! the drownings and burnings, the ravishing of women and maids, stripping them naked without mercy or regard of the frozen weather, tying and binding them by three and four together at their horses' tails: dragging them, some alive, some dead, all bloodying the ways and streets, lying full of carcases of the aged men, women and infants! thus were infinite numbers of the fairest people in the world dragged into muscovy." with the spoil brought from novgorod was the "great bell of novgorod" which had so often called its burghers to assemble for the defence of the town. ivan was determined that the tocsin should never again be heard over the fallen city. the bell he caused to be hanged in the turret on the kremlin wall near the spasski gate, where for long it was used as the alarm bell of moscow, but subsequently served as metal when the great bell in ivan veliki was recast. shortly after his return from novgorod he entered upon his fourth cycle of massacres. the prisoners were executed in batches before the spasski gate. horsey was instrumental in getting the lives of many spared, and they were settled in a suburb of moscow where they lived at peace with the citizens but were still subject to attacks from the öpritchniks. ivan found other traitors among the boyards and princes, for his favourites of to-day were the victims of the morrow. "on july , in the middle of the market-place, eighteen scaffolds were erected, a number of instruments of torture were fixed in position, a large stack of wood was lighted, and over it an enormous cauldron of water was placed. seeing these terrible preparations, the people hurried away and hid themselves wherever they could, abandoning their opened shops, their goods and their money. soon the place was void but for the band of öpritchniks gathered round the gibbets, and the blazing fire. then was heard the sound of drums: the tsar appeared on horseback, accompanied by his dutiful son, the boyards, some princes, and quite a legion of hangmen. behind these came some hundreds of the condemned, many like spectres; others torn, bleeding, and so feeble they scarce could walk. ivan halted near the scaffolds and looked around, then at once commanded the öpritchniks to find where the people were and drag them into the light of day. in his impatience he even himself ran about here and there, calling the muscovites to come forward and see the spectacle he had prepared for them, promising all who came safety and pardon. the inhabitants, fearing to disobey, crept out of their hiding-places, and, trembling with fright, stood round the scaffold. some having climbed on to the walls, and even showing themselves on the roofs, ivan shouted: 'people, ye are about to witness executions and a massacre, but these are traitors whom i thus punish. answer me: is this just?' and on all sides the people shouted approval. 'long live our glorious king! down with traitors! goiesi, goida!' "ivan separated of the prisoners from the crowd and pardoned them. then the first clerk of the council unrolled a scroll and called upon the condemned to answer. the first to be brought before him was viskovati, and to him he read out: 'ivan mikhailovich, formerly a counsellor of state, thou hast been found faithless to his imperial highness. thou hast written to the king sigismund offering him novgorod: there thy first crime!' he paused to strike viskovati on the head, then continued reading: 'and this thy second crime, not less heinous than thy first, o ungrateful and perfidious one! thou hast written to the sultan of turkey, that he may take astrakhan and kazan,' whereupon he struck the condemned wretch twice, and continued: 'also thou hast called upon the khan of the krim tartars to enter and devastate russia: this thy third crime.' viskovati called god to witness that he was innocent, that he had always served faithfully his tsar and his country: 'my earthly judges will not recognise the truth; but the heavenly judge knows my innocence! thou also, o prince, thou wilt recognise it before that tribunal on high!' here the executioners interrupted, gagging him. he was then suspended, head downwards, his clothes torn off", and, maluta skutarov, the first to dismount from his horse and lead the attack, cut off an ear, then, little by little, his body was hacked to pieces. "the next victim was the treasurer, funikov-kartsef, a friend of viskovati, accused with him of the same treason, and as unjustly. he in his turn said to ivan, 'i pray god will give thee in eternity a fitting reward for thy actions here!' he was drenched with boiling and cold water alternately, until he expired after enduring the most horrible torments. then others were hanged, strangled, tortured, cut to pieces, killed slowly, quickly, by whatever means fancy suggested. ivan himself took a part, stabbing and slaying without dismounting from his horse. in four hours two hundred had been put to death, and then, the carnage over, the hangmen, their clothes covered with blood, and their gory, steaming knives in their hands, surrounded the tsar and shouted huzzah. 'goida! goida! long live the tsar! ivan for ever! goida! goida!' and so shouting they went round the market-place that ivan might examine the mutilated remains, the piled-up corpses, the actual evidences of the slaughter. enough of bloodshed for the one day? not a bit of it. ivan, satiated for the moment with the slaughter, would gloat over the grief of the survivors. wishing to see the unhappy wives of funikov-kartsef and of viskovati, he forced a way into their apartments and made merry over their grief! the wife of funikov-kartsef he put to the torture, that he might have from her whatever treasures she possessed. equally he wished to torture her fifteen-year-old daughter, who was groaning and lamenting at their ill fortune, but contented himself with handing her over to the by no means tender mercies of the tsarevich ivan. taken afterwards to a convent, these unhappy beings shortly died of grief--it is said."--_karamzin._ sometimes ivan's vagaries were less gruesome, possessing even a comic aspect:-- one day he requisitioned of his secretary , men at arms by such a day and signed the order "johnny of moscow." he carried a staff with a very sharp spike in the end, which, in discourse he would strike through his boyard's feet, and if they could bear it without flinching, he would favour them. he once sent to vologda for a pot of fleas and because the town could not send the measure full, he fined the inhabitants roubles. "he once went in disguise into a village and sought shelter. the only man who would offer it was the one worst off, and at the time sore beset. ivan promised to return, and did so with a great company and many presents, acting also as godson to the man's child, whose birth he had witnessed. then his followers burned all the other dwellings in the village to teach the owners charity and try how good it was to lie out of doors in winter." "when ivan went on his tours he was met by the householders and presented with the best they had. a poor shoemaker knowing not what to give, except a pair of sandals, was reminded that a large turnip in his garden was a rarity, and so presented that to ivan, who took the present so kindly that he commanded a hundred of his followers to buy sandals of the man at a crown a pair. a boyard seeing him so well paid, made account by the rule of proportion to get a much greater reward by presenting ivan with a fine horse, but ivan, suspecting his intention, rewarded him with the turnip the bootmaker had given." on a certain festival he played mad pranks, which caused some dutch and english women to laugh, and he, noticing this, sent all to the palace, where he had them stripped stark naked before him in a great room and then he commanded four or five bushels of pease to be thrown on the floor and made them pick all up one by one, and, when they had done, gave them wine and bade them heed how they laughed before an emperor again. he sent for a nobleman of kasan, who was called _plesheare_, which is "bald," and the vayvod mistaking the word, thought he sent for a hundred bald pates and therefore got together as many as he could, about eighty or ninety, and sent them up speedily with an excuse that he could find no more in his province and asking pardon. the emperor seeing so many, crossed himself, and finding out how the mistake occurred, made the baldpates drunk for three days then sent them home again.--_collins._ "he it was who nailed a french ambassador's hat to his head. sir jeremy bowes, the english ambassador, soon after came before ivan, put on his hat, and cocked it before him, at which ivan sternly demanded how he durst do so, having heard how he chastised the french ambassador. sir jeremy answered, 'i am the ambassador of the invincible queen of england, who does not veil her bonnet, nor bare her head to any prince living. if any of her ministers shall receive any affront abroad, she is able to avenge her own quarrel.' "'look you at that!' cried ivan to his boyards, 'which of you would do so much for me, your master?'" he was probably not acting nor scoffing when he acted the part of abbot, and made his companions friars of the house at alexandrovski--to which he retreated for upwards of a year at a time when he mistrusted the people of moscow and feared for his life and his throne. ivan regularly summoned to mass this strange company, all clad like brothers of a monastery, and himself officiated. his prostrations were no sham, for his forehead bore the marks of its severe knockings on the floor, but in the middle of a mass he would pause to give some order for the murder of his victims, or the pillage of the rich. the mornings were spent in religious exercise--the rest of the day and much of the night in the foulest orgies and the perpetration of fearful outrages in the dungeons and torture chambers of his residence. at all times the boyards durst do nothing without him, and waited upon him duteously wherever he might go. his voievodes kept the newly-conquered provinces in subjection; others carried the war into the country of his enemies and brought fresh lands under his dominion. yermak, an outlaw, conquered siberia and made of it a gift to the tsar. anthony jenkinson, on behalf of the english russia company, conveyed their goods from archangel to astrakhan; there fitted out a fleet for trading on the shores of the caspian, and made a successful war on the shah of persia. in ivan's voievodes failed him. they were unable, or unwilling, to oppose the tartar horde and it reached moscow. there the enemy pillaged and burnt the town, destroying the stores, houses and buildings outside the kremlin. the town suffered worse than in the great conflagrations of , but the tartars, satisfied with the spoil, withdrew. they subsequently sent envoys to ivan and these were at once imprisoned. kept in dark rooms, ill-treated, almost starved,--they endured; made light of the hardships; scorned their guardians. at last an audience was granted them. "the ambassador enters ivan's presence; his followers kept back in a space with grates of iron between the emperor and them; at which the ambassador chafes with a hellish, hollow voice, looking fierce and grimly. four captains of the guard bring him near the emperor's seat. himself, a most ugly creature, without reverence, thunders out, says,--his master and lord, devlet geray, great emperor of all the kingdoms and kams the sun did spread his beams over, sent to him ivan vasilievich, his vassal, and grand duke over russia by his permission, to know how he did like the scourge of his displeasure by sword, fire and famine? had sent him for remedy (pulling out a foul, rusty knife) to cut his throat withal." they hasted him forth from the room, and would have taken off his gown and cap, but he and his company strove with them so stoutly. the emperor fell into such an agony; sent for his ghostly father; tore his own hair and beard for madness! then sent away the ambassador with this message, "tell the miscreant and unbeliever, thy master, it is not he, it is for my sins, and the sins of my people against my god and christ. he it is that hath given him, a limb of satan, the power and opportunity to be the instrument of my rebuke, by whose pleasure and grace i doubt not of revenge, and to make him my vassal ere long be." the tartar answered, "he would not do him so much service as to do any such message for him."--_horsey._ ivan had to send his own emissaries to the tartars and the khan kept them imprisoned seven years, and in other ways showed his contempt for the ruler of moscow. but for ivan's newly-found friends the english, his enemies in east and west would have conquered him. the english, much to the disgust of swedes and poles, supplied ivan with artillery and small arms; improved engines of war, much gunpowder, and showed his men how to use them--russians are not slow to learn. in ivan sent john schlitte to germany to enlist foreign artisans for his service. attracted by the high remuneration offered, a hundred were willing to accompany schlitte back to moscow, but the governments, anticipating danger to their territory if the russ became enlightened, refused permission. only a few determined stragglers reached russian territory. the first printers in russia were encouraged for a time, then, for their own safety, had hurriedly to seek exile. for moscow ivan did little: twice during his reign the town was destroyed by fire. after the first he built himself a new palace of wood within the kremlin; later he had another constructed outside, between the nikitskaia and the arbat. for a long time he lived in neither, preferring a wretched dwelling in a far off village, whence he believed he could, at need, escape unobserved to england if any of his subjects took up arms against him. the monument of his reign is the church in the grand place. dedicated to the "intercession of the holy virgin," it was built at ivan's command, and at the expense of kazan, to commemorate the conquest of that town, which fell on the first of october . commenced in , it was completed six years later and consecrated by the metropolitan macarius on the day of its patron saint. the name of its architect is unknown. tradition asserts that ivan, to make sure that this church should be "the crowning effort of his wonderful genius," put out his eyes. there is no evidence in support of this story, and it is unlikely that ivan would have done a thing so usual. many writers have asserted that this fantastic edifice is a mixture of the gothic, moorish, indian, byzantine and other styles of architecture. as a matter of fact it is but an exaggeration of the russian style, an agglomeration of domes, towers and spires, one or other of which may be found on many buildings in "wooden russia." in the chapter on "ecclesiastical moscow" the reader will find further information on this point. it appears to embody the salient features of many styles, eastern and western, and the whole, if neither beautiful nor magnificent is strikingly imposing and original. unlike other russian churches the belfry instead of being at the west end, is at the east. nine of its chapels are each surmounted by a lofty roof differing from the others. the central one, that dedicated to the virgin, has a high tower and wonderful spire, the paintings on its internal converging sides adding to its extravagant proportions. the other eight chapels on this floor surround the spire and are covered with the usual arched vault supporting longer or shorter cylindrical towers, surmounted with cupolas of different forms and sizes. one, has apparently large facets; another bristles like the back of a hedgehog; a third bears closest resemblance to a pine-apple, a fourth to a melon; a fifth is in folds, another has spiral _gonflements_--none are plain. a covered gallery extends from north to south, with roofed and spired stairways leading up to the church level, and a narrow passage and outside wall enclose the remaining chapels. the quaint belfry with its russo-gothic spire and bright roofing, being unlike aught else, is in keeping with the general design. outside, the central dome is brightly gilt, the others are painted in gaudy colours, and the whole of the exterior is decorated with crude patterns in strong contrast. its design is bizarre; its colour is motley; the two both harmonise and contrast--the whole fascinates. it is at once both a nightmare and a revelation. like an impressionist's picture it rivets attention by apparent strength and seeming originality. it cannot be forgotten, yet it repels by its egregious fatuity. it is the over-inflated frog at the instant of explosion. it is not even known by its correct name: covering the remains of a [illustration: vasili blajenni] mendicant monk "idiotic for christ's sake," its familiar appellation, "blessed willie," is derived from him. he it was who so often interposed his person between the tsar and the objects of his wrath. he upbraided ivan; threatened him with all manner of disasters, but neither ivan nor his opritchniks ever hurt the naked body of the old beggar. he used to address the tsar familiarly, "ivashka" (bad jacky); when the tsar offered him money he let it fall to the floor, blew on his fingers, said the coins burned, and asked ivan why he had his gold from hell. then he would tell ivan that on his forehead were already growing the horns of a goat--that he was becoming a devil really--then hold him up to the ridicule of the court and the people--and ivan, enraged, dared not strike him down himself or order anyone to do so. now, the wonderful monument of ivan's time is called by the name of the man he feared; it is _he_ the orthodox remember; it is his church; they honour and revere him. later another popular prophet, "ivan the idiot" was buried there by order of the tsar theodore: his chapel adjoins that of "blessed willie," below the level of the church itself at the east end. the church has not much history; the poles plundered it, napoleon ordered his generals to "destroy that mosque"--instead they quartered themselves there. it has been many times repaired; was reconsecrated in and remains, what it is, a striking memorial of a fearful era. as a place of worship it is now but little used. its architecture is not of the kind to inspire lofty thoughts, or draw any nearer to god. its associations are all unpleasant, reminiscent of the excesses of ivan, the weaknesses of his immediate successors. worse, it lacks sincerity: intuitively one knows that such a building cannot shelter truth or engender hope. to uncover at its portal seems a mockery; to connect it with aught that is pure and holy, a rank blasphemy. glittering in bright sunlight, gay with colour, resplendent with reflections from a glorious sky, it seems only like a kaleidoscopic flash on a variegated canvas. to know vasili blajenni, the visitor should walk round it in the dusk of the evening, in the gloom of a winter's day, or, in summer, in that half-light of midnight that there does duty for darkness. standing in the shadow of the kremlin wall, on soil saturated fathoms deep with the blood of innocent martyrs, examine the building closely and call to memory the people by whom and for whom it was produced. then and then only may the conception of this fungus-like excrescence seem possible, and vasili blajenni stand revealed as an expression of inordinate vanity, uncontrolled passion, insatiate lust. like attributes without a soul--weird, monstrous, horrible. no fitting memorial of any man, yet not out of character with what is known of him they called ivan the terrible. the clergy alone possessed any power besides the tsar; but the church was unable to coerce him or to save the people. obedience to those in power it had inculcated so long and thoroughly that the russians never attempted reprisals or lifted a hand against the tsar. even a voievod, speaking to ivan, had his ears sliced off there and then by the tsar himself, and he not only bore it patiently, but thanked the tsar for his attention. the people, debased, servile, frightened, could not help the church--and soon the clergy could not help themselves. ivan, who was fond of the semblance of justice, after his expedition north appointed a baptized tartar, one simeon bekbulatov, to be tsar in his place, then himself abdicated. but he took care to make simeon do as he wished, and _he_ kept the power. the people obeyed simeon, to a certain extent, but the tsar's chief object in this was to legalise his seizure of ecclesiastical revenues. simeon made certain agreements, but not having made those in force, which had been recognised by ivan, he abrogated them. then ivan dismissed simeon amidst the thanksgiving and rejoicing of his people, and with tears in his own eyes, the arch-hypocrite again took his seat on the throne. but the old agreements were no longer in force; then ivan declared null and void certain acts of simeon, and so between the two, secured all the church properties he wanted, and deprived the clergy of many privileges. ivan was a great chess-player; his strategy as tsar shows how his knowledge of the game benefited him. ivan put to death his cousin vladimir for no crime; his mother euphrosyne, when living in seclusion in a convent, he dragged forth and drowned in the cheksna. his own sister-in-law, the widow of his early playmate yuri, was also killed for no other reason than in the seclusion of the convent she had shed tears over the victims of the despot's fury. the boyard rostevski, after imprisonment, was marched naked in very cold weather until the volga was reached. his guards said that there they must water their horses. "ah," said rostevski, "full well i know i have to drink of that water too," and straightway he went to his death. seerkon had no other crime than that he was rich. a rope was placed round his waist and he was hauled from one side of a river to the other and back again until half-drowned, then placed in a bath of hot oil and torn to pieces. ivan kept many bears, and delighted to turn them out when savage amongst helpless people. another diversion was to clothe men in bear skins, then set trained dogs to tear them to pieces. he poured spirits over the heads of delegates, then set their beards on fire. on one occasion his men brought a lot of women of moscow, and stripping all naked presented them to ivan--he took a few and gave the remainder to the perpetrators of this outrage. prince chernialef he had grilled in an enormous frying-pan; hundreds died on the rack. "kniaz ivan kuraken, being found drunk, as was pretended, in wenden when besieged, being voievod thereof, was stripped naked, laid on a cart, whipped through the market with six whips of wire, which cut his back, belly and bowels to death. another, as i remember, ivan obrossimov, was hanged naked on a gibbet by the hair of his head; the skin and flesh of his body from top to toe cut off and minced with knives into small gobbets, by four _palatsniks_ (chamberlains). the one, wearied with his long carving, thrust his knife in somewhat far the sooner to dispatch him, and was presently had to another place of execution and that hand cut off; which, not being well seared, he died the next day. "that was the valley compared to gehenna or tophet, where the faithless egyptians did sacrifice their children to the hideous devils. "kniaz boris telupa was drawn upon a sharp stake, soaped to enter his body and out at his neck, upon which he languished in horrible pain for fifteen hours and spake unto his mother, the duchess, brought to behold that woeful sight. and she, a good matronly woman, given to one hundred gunners who did her to death. her body lying naked in the place, ivan commanded his huntsman to bring their hungry hounds and devour her flesh, and dragged her bones everywhere. the tsar saying: 'such as i favour i have honoured, and such as be treytors will i have thus done unto.'"--_horsey._ another boyard impaled, during the long hours he remained conscious, never ceased calling upon god to forgive the tsar. on one occasion, during a time of great scarcity, ivan caused it to be made known that at a certain hour alms would be distributed at his palace. a great crowd of needy people assembled, and seven hundred were promptly knocked on the head by the opritchniks and their bodies thrown into the lake; a death so merciful, horsey terms it "a deed of charity." ivan forced father to kill son, and son father. his two once favourites, the gluiskis, also suffered; the son being beheaded as he reverently raised the head just struck from his father's body. on that same day another prince was impaled and four others beheaded. many were hung up by the feet, hacked with knives, and whilst still living, plunged into a cauldron of scalding water. on one occasion, eight hundred women were drowned together. the opritchniks, of whom at one time ivan had seven hundred, killed scores of people daily. he himself plotted against the life of his own son and gave "maliuta" (skutarov) orders to kill him. kniaz serebrenni saved him. this is the subject of count a. tolstoi's best known novel and of an old ballad which recounts how the tsar got all the boyards together to say a mass for the dead tsarevich and in mourning, "or all i will boil in a cauldron." nikita serebrenni, hiding the tsarevich behind the door, enters in ordinary raiment and is questioned by the tsar, who when he knows that the tsarevich is safe, rejoices greatly and offers serebrenni half the kingdom as a reward. serebrenni answers:-- "ah! woe tsar ivan vasilievich! i wish neither for the half of thy kingdom, nor the gold of thy coffers. give me only that wicked skutarov, i will guide him to the noisome marsh that men call most cursed spot." with the aid of his foreign physician, bomel, ivan substituted poison for the knife. at his table the craven boyards would gather trembling; take from him and drain the cup they knew to be poisoned. no wonder horsey called them "a base and servile people, without courage." in his turn "elizius bomelius" suffered a cruel death. when theodorof was accused of aspiring to the crown, ivan dressed him in the royal insignia, seated him on the throne and did him mock homage; then struck him dead, saying that it was he who exalted the humble and put down the mighty from their seats. his people all shrank from him: the merchants hid their goods if he, or any of his spies, were in their neighbourhood; none dared be counted rich. he robbed any and all. even the english merchants, whose good esteem he prized, were forced to furnish him with what he wished, on credit, and were never paid. they dared not offer their wares to any, unless he had first been afforded an opportunity to purchase--at his own price. his palace at alexandrovski was a wondrous building; all spires, domes, quaint gables, and corridors--as unlike all other palaces as vasili blajenni is unlike other churches. of his enormities there, none may write. after his death, it was struck by lightning and burned to the ground. he was rough, uncouth, unfeeling. he emptied scalding soup over one of his favourites and laughed at the sufferer's contortions. taking offence at a remark of one of his jesters, he ran his knife into the little fellow's chest; then called a doctor, telling him he had used his fool roughly. the doctor told him the man was dead. ivan, remarking that he was a poor jester after all, went away to his revels. a straightforward old boyard, morozof, a hard fighter and an upholder of the rights of his order, for disputing with the favoured boris godunov about precedence, was exiled. after some years he was again summoned to court, and ivan made of him a buffoon. count alexis tolstoi uses the story in his romance "prince serebrenni." "'yes, the boyard is old in years but young in spirit. he loves a joke--so do i in the hours not devoted to prayers or my affairs of state. but since i killed that foolish jester, no one knows how to amuse me. i see that the boyard morozof wants the post. i have promised to show him a favour--i name him my chief jester! bring the cap and bells! put them on the boyard.' the muscles of the tsar's face worked sharply, his voice was unchanged. "morozof was thunder-struck: he could not believe his ears. he looked more terrible even than the tsar. when gresnoi brought the cloak, with its tinkling bells, morozof pushed him aside. 'stand back! do not dare, outcast, to touch boyard morozof! your fathers cleaned out my ancestor's kennels. you leave me alone! tsar, withdraw your order. let me be put to death. with my head you can do as you will. you may not touch my honour!' "ivan looked round at the opritchniks. 'you see i am right in saying that the boyard will have his joke. i have no right to promote him to the office of jester, eh?' "'tsar, i implore you to withdraw your words. before you were born i fought for your father with simski against the cheremiss; with odoevski and mstislavski drove back the krim-tartars, and chased the tartars away from moscow. i defended you when a child; fought for your rights and the rights of your mother. i prized only mine honour; that has always remained unstained. _will_ you mock the grey hairs of a faithful servant? behead me rather--if you will.' "'your foolish words show that you are well fitted for a jester. put on the cloak! and you fellows, help him. he is used to be waited upon.' "the opritchniks put on the fool's cloak, the parti-coloured cap, and retreating, bowed low before him. 'now amuse us as did the late jester!' said their leader. "morozof was resolute. 'i accept the new post, to which the tsar has appointed me. it was not fit for boyard morozof to sit at table with a godunov--but the court fool may keep company even with such as the basmanovs. make way for the new jester, and listen, all of you, how he will amuse ivan vasilievich!' he made a gesture of command: the opritchniks stood aside, and with his bells tinkling, the fine old man marched up the room and seated himself on the stool before the tsar, but with such dignity that he seemed to be wearing the royal purple instead of the motley of the court fool. "'how shall i amuse you, tsar?' and putting his elbows on the table, he leant forward and looked directly into the eyes of his sovereign. 'it is not easy to find a fresh diversion for you; there have been so many jests in russia since you began to reign. you rode your horse over the helpless in the streets once-upon-a-time; you have thrown your companions to dogs, you poured burning pitch over the heads of those who humbly petitioned you! but those were childish freaks. you soon tired of such simple cruelties. you began to imprison your nobles, in order to fill your rooms with their wives and daughters, but of this also you have tired. you next chose your most faithful servants for the torture; then you found it wearied you to mock the people and the nobles, so you began to scoff at the church of god. you picked out the lowest rabble, decked them out as monks, and yourself became the abbot! in daylight you commit murders; at night sing psalms! your favourite amusement, this! none had thought of it before. you are covered with blood, yet you chant and ring the holy bells and would like to perform the mass. what else shall i say to amuse you, tsar? this: whilst you are masquerading thus with your opritchniks, wallowing in blood, sigismund with his poles will fall on you in the west, and from the east will come the khan, and you will have left none alive to defend moscow. the holy churches of god will be entered and burned by the infidel, all the holy relics will be taken: you,--you--the tsar of all the russias, will have to kneel at the feet of the khan, and ask leave to kiss his stirrup!' morozof ceased. none dared interrupt; all held their breath in agonising suspense. ivan, pale, with flashing eyes, and foaming with rage, listened to all attentively, bent forward, as though fearing to lose a single word. morozof gazed proudly around him. 'do you want me to divert you further, tsar? i will. one faithful subject, of high birth, still remained to you. you had not yet thought of killing him, because--perhaps--perhaps you feared the anger of god; and perhaps only because you could think of no torture or infamous death worthy of him. he lived in disgrace far from you; you exiled him; you might have forgotten him--but you never forget, do you, tsar? you sent your cursed favourite, viasemski, to burn his house and carry off his wife. when he came to you for redress for these wrongs, you sent him to combat for the right, in the hope that your young courtier would kill the old boyard. god did not allow you that joy, tsar. he gave the other the victory. what did you do then, tsar?' the bells on the cap tinkled as the old man's head shook with his emotion. 'why, then you dishonoured him by an unheard-of outrage. then, tsar,' he pushed back the table in his indignation, and sprang to his feet--'then you ordered the boyard, morozof, to wear the fool's cap! you forced the man, who had saved tula and moscow, to play the fool to amuse you and your idle courtiers!' "the look of the old warrior was fierce; the absurdity of his dress disappeared. his eyes flashed fire, his white beard fell on a chest scarred with many wounds now hidden beneath a jester's cloak. so much dignity was there in him that by his side the tsar looked mean. "tsar, your new fool stands before you. listen to his last jest. while you live the people dare not speak, but when your hateful reign is over your name will be cursed from generation to generation, until, on the day of judgment, the hundreds and thousands you have murdered--men, women and little children, all of whom you have tortured and killed, all will stand before god appealing against you, their murderer. on that dreadful day i, too, shall appear in this same dress before the great judge, and will ask for that honour you took from me on earth. you will have no body-guard then to defend you; the judge will hear us, and you will go into that everlasting fire prepared for the devil and his angels.' "casting a disdainful look upon the courtiers, morozof turned round and slowly withdrew. none dared to stop him. he passed through the hall with great dignity, and not until the jingle of his bells ceased did any speak."--_alexis tolstoi._ his son, the tsarevich ivan, wished to lead an army against his father's enemies in lithuania. in this offer the jealous tsar saw an attempt to gain popularity. he turned on ivan savagely and struck him repeatedly with the iron-shod "sceptre" he always carried; the last blow knocked the young man senseless. he fell to the ground, and the tsar, now frightened, did his utmost to save him, but he was injured too severely and died four days later. there still exists in the monastery of st cyril, moscow, a synodal letter, in which are specified a number of victims for whom ivan solicited the prayers of the church. the souls of , in all are to be prayed for; of these are mentioned by name, the others are cited as--"with his wife," "with sons," "with wife and children," "kazarim dubrovski and his two sons and the ten men who came to their defence," "twenty men of the village of kolomensko," "eighty of matveche," "remember, lord, the souls of thy servants to the number of , novgorodians." in the number of wives recognised by the church as more or less legitimately joined with him he beat henry viii. by only one, but in the number of mistresses he can be compared with solomon alone. anastasia romanof died in ; in the same year he married mary tangrak, either a cheremiss or tartar. his next wife was chosen out of all the most eligible maids in russia. her name was marfa sabakina of novgorod. the marriage took place on october , , and on november of the same year she died. her brother, michael, the tsar impaled shortly afterwards. ivan's marriage with natalia bulkatov was not recognised by the church. anna koltoski he took next, but he forced her into a nunnery later, where she lived until . anna vasilichekov and one mstislavski succeeded, but only one was recognised,--which one is disputed. vassilissa melentief, a great beauty, was his next choice, but the church recognised only maria nagoi, the mother of the murdered dmitri, whom he married in . when but a few months wed, he informed queen elizabeth that he would put aside his wife, who was shortly to become a mother, if he could find a suitable partner for himself in england. poor lady mary hastings, learning something of his character, begged her sovereign not to mate her with such a barbarian. his harem was that of a turk. he was prematurely worn out with his excesses. he could obtain little peace. superstitious, he sent for wizards and prognosticators; finns who certainly foretold the day, if not the hour, of his death. the appearance of a comet greatly terrified him--the once mighty tsar lost his strength. like herod of old he died a fearful death, and he left his country in a worse plight than he found it. he was received into the church before his demise, but he is officially known as yoanna and familiarly as "groznoi" (the terrible). his evil deeds are forgotten by the people, whilst the enrichment of his country by others of his day is counted to his credit. he was the first "tsar" of russia, and not in name only; he was its first ruler to become an absolute autocrat. it is a fashion of this humanitarian age to make allowances for the harsh deeds of those who lived in ruder times, and in this nineteenth century even ivan the terrible has found apologists. his atrocities, his joy in the perpetration of the cruellest tortures on the innocent, all his wickednesses are admitted; but they call his lust by a greek name and say he is to be pitied rather than condemned. yet some there must be even now, who, when they read that ivan always went to the torture rooms with joy and came away from its fiendish practices invigorated, refreshed and gay, will rightly regard him with loathing and horror. not only is his character without a redeeming trait, but his nature is so fiendish and foul that the student may read long and investigate very closely before making sure that ivan was human. his lusts had not the saving grace of humour; his fear even was sulphurous. neither circumstances nor events either mitigate or condone his cruelties. throughout his life he was actuated by one impulse only, to gratify and preserve himself. those who believe that the occasion makes the man must feel that the fifty-years rule of this despot upsets that theory. never was there such need for a cromwell--the country could not produce a man, much less a liberator. doubtless the action of previous rulers, the centuries of thraldom to tartars, the thorough teaching of the christian doctrine of obedience to rulers, contributed to the servility of the people. one of his tortured victims, it is true, did try to assault him, but the wretch was at once killed by the watchful tsarevich, and in future ivan ran no such risks. prelates rebuked him and suffered; his victims suffered and forgave him--none tried to free themselves or help others. in all this dreary time only one man appears to have acted worthily. the englishman, jerom horsey, exerted all the influence he possessed on behalf of ivan's prisoners. the services he rendered deserve a memorial; instead he received the condemnation of the russia company, in whose employ he was, and the encomiums and admiration of the tsar whom he loathed and despised. the magnitude and multitude of his crimes place ivan far beyond other tyrants of his class. it is reassuring to know that in no other country and at no other time would his rule be permitted. the mere possibility of a recurrence of such a time of terror would determine every thinking being to die childless. the spirit of freedom renders the ascendency or continuance of his like impossible--but in mediæval moscow the spirit of freedom had no place. chapter vi _the troublous times_ "but war has spread its terrors o'er thee, and thou hast been in ashes laid: thy throne seemed tottering then before thee, thy sceptre feeble as thy blade."--dmitriev. "yea, one is full out as villainous as the other." w. russell--_a bloudie and tragicke massacre._ boris godunov was the most powerful and sagacious of the boyards spared by ivan the "terrible"; he was best fitted to direct the policy of the government, and later the people looked to him as the only ruler possible. a man who could satisfy ivan, yet take no part in his orgies, who could keep the goodwill of the foreign residents, yet be beloved of the muscovites, must have possessed abilities of no mean order. boris was a great man to whom historians have done scant justice. he is described as inordinately ambitious and accused of unscrupulousness in his methods, but the court in which he was schooled may be adduced in extenuation of his crimes, whilst ambition, an undesirable quality for a subject to possess, is a laudable virtue in monarchs. it was his misfortune not to have been born in the purple--his contemporaries and the historians have counted this a fault, but it is too late to blame him for acting as a king when he was by birth a simple noble. boris godunov, as brother of the tsar's wife, had a recognised position apart from the favour the tsar's father had shown him. the relatives of the tsarina were always counted less dangerous to the dynasty than were the tsar's blood relations, and their influence at court was greater than their precedence warranted. theodore was the opposite of his father, unintelligent, feeble-willed, incompetent, he thrust greatness upon boris godunov, who saved moscow. at that time the tsar held territory in europe larger than that ruled by any of his contemporaries; the conquests of yermak in asia brought as much more under his dominion. enemies, active, watchful, virulent, were ever ready to harass its rulers. poles and swedes expected moscow sooner or later, to fall to them, and lost no opportunity to effect the overthrow of the russians. tartars and others kept up predatory wars and, within the empire, towns and districts, devastated by the wanton cruelties of ivan, were anxious to get back their independence. there were no men able to rule. ivan had put to death those brave enough and independent enough to assert authority; what was worse for russia, he had driven into exile competent and influential nobles, who, maddened by his persecutions, became enemies of their fatherland and plotted with foreign sovereigns against the state. to govern was difficult; to preserve the empire intact, still more so; further aggrandisement almost impossible with the conditions then prevailing. theodore left everything to the council,--_duma_, consisting of boyards whom godunov held in the hollow of his hand. from his brother-in-law he obtained special titles and special powers; he became viceroy of immense territories, and could put , armed men into the field at need. he was practically regent and lacked nothing that was royal but the title. when the shooiskis, the belskis, the mstislavskis and others did not please him he forced them from power. mstislavski had to become a monk; shooiski, who tried to get together a party among the merchants, was banished to a distant town; dionysius, the metropolitan, was deposed, and a nominee of godunov's succeeded to the primacy of the church. when, in , batory, king of lithuania died, boris godunov put forward theodore as candidate for the crown of poland. but the poles would have no ruler who belonged to the eastern church. moreover, they feared the muscovites would join poland to muscovy like a sleeve to a coat; but the claim proved that russia was still a power with which the west would have to reckon. boris, who had always been friendly with the english, obtained for theodore the support of england against danes and swedes; he quite won over queen elizabeth to the side of the young tsar and, in many ways, as grand high chancellor advanced the interests of his sovereign and his country. in moscow he acted intelligently. the middle town, the bielo-gorod or free town, between the kitai gorod and the present boulevards was enclosed with a wall of stone, having twenty-eight towers and nine gates. the last gate, that on the arbat, was razed in , the wall having been earlier demolished and its site utilised for the present existing boulevards. its style was that of the wall around the donskoi monastery built in to commemorate the victory of the muscovites under mstislavski against , krim-tartars advancing on the city under the leadership of the khan kazi ghiree. another building of godunov's is the smaller "golden palace" in the terem of the kremlin, which was erected for the accommodation of the tsaritsa irene. many bells were cast, and some cannon including the monstrous tsar pushka--still within the kremlin--which bears a [illustration: a corridor--the old palaces] portrait of theodore on horseback on its reinforcement. theodore lived in regal state: his household numbered over , and he entertained foreign ambassadors with even greater pomp and magnificence than his predecessors. not only were these guests provided with a fitting residence and a large suit, but it was not uncommon for as many as a hundred and fifty dinners to be sent daily from the tsar's kitchen for their entertainment. ivan's youngest son, dmitri, with his mother maria, and her relatives, the nagois, were domiciled in uglitch by the order of boris; whilst there in , about the period of the tartar invasion, young dmitri was murdered--at boris godunov's instigation it is said. jerom horsey, who was in uglitch at the time, states that he was aroused late at night, the news given him, and his aid requested on behalf of dmitri's mother believed to be poisoned. horsey gave the messenger the small vial of sallet oil the queen (elizabeth) had given him as a specific against all poisons and ills. an inquiry was ordered when boris godunov was suspected of having instigated the crime, and as a result of the investigation made by shooiski it was declared that the boy cut his own throat and that the nagois and citizens of uglitch had put to death innocent men as murderers, whereupon, the incredible finding being believed, an effort was made to exterminate the nagois, and uglitch was almost depopulated. there can be no doubt that dmitri was murdered when six years old, but it is not so clear at whose instigation the deed was done. giles fletcher states that the child "resembled his father in delight of blood," and it may be that evidence of his cruel propensities induced some sufferer from ivan's tyranny to wreak vengeance on the son in hope of saving a generation to come from such suffering as the past had endured. it may be that boris godunov plotted for his removal, but it is known that boris was anxious for theodore to have a son to succeed to the throne, and, probably, had then little intention of securing it for himself. one of the complaints made by the russia company against jerom horsey was in connection with a wrongly interpreted order he executed on behalf of boris godunov who wished a "wise woman" sent out from england to doctor the tsaritsa, and the company instead sent out a midwife. to conciliate the small landowners a decree was issued in forbidding peasants to leave the land and thus serfdom was established. some efforts had been made in former centuries to restrict the migrations of a people, nomadic by habit, still accustomed to change masters frequently by moving from one estate to another at seed time and harvest. the tendency of the powerful was to increase the size of their holdings and to augment their retainers by enticing labourers from smaller estates. to check this the husbandman was attached to the soil as the serf of the estate. as statesmanlike, and less objectionable, was the appointment of a patriarch to win over the clergy. jeremiah, patriarch of constantinople, was banished by the turks and sought refuge in rome. the pope sent him to moscow, hoping that the chief of their own church would influence the russians to forward the amalgamation of the greek and roman churches. if not successful in this, it was hoped that the recountal of the patriarch's sufferings and indignities at the hands of infidels, might induce the romans to make a league with spain against the turks. according to giles fletcher the pope's emissaries did nothing more than inveigh against england; but with the destruction of the spanish armada all conceit of a russo-spanish league vanished. godunov profited by jeremiah's stay in moscow. he induced him to consecrate the metropolitan job, patriarch of moscow, and to this patriarchate that of constantinople was subsequently added. thus moscow became indisputably the head of the orthodox church, by direct apostolic succession. the tsar fell ill in and died in the kremlin the following year, and his widow then at once retired to the novo devichi convent mourning her bereavement and blaming herself that through her the sovereign race had perished, for her only child, theodosia, died in , when but ten months old. the enmity the reigning princes had shown their own kindred, produced the unexpected result that there were now no legal heirs to the throne; the line of which andrew bogoloobski dolgoruki was the founder, was extinct. the tsar theodore when on his death-bed said that god would provide the next tsar, and refused to nominate a successor. the states' council convened for the purpose of appointing a ruler, unanimously chose boris godunov. it was impossible that the throne could escape him. he hung back, wishful to have an expression of the desire of the people of moscow, as well as of the delegates. the people required him. they went to the novo devichi convent, whither he had gone, begged him to accept the position to which he had been appointed; his sister "blessed him for the throne," and with great show of reluctance, he at last consented. in due course he was crowned; reigned wisely and well, but was not liked. a chronicler has it that "he presented to the poor in a vase of gold the blood of the innocents, he fed them with unholy alms." those of his subjects who remembered the tyranny of ivan should have blessed their elected ruler. they could not forget his tartar origin: he was not of royal descent, was no tsar. nor could he win popularity. his first act was to conclude an honourable peace with kazi ghiree and the invading tartars; his policy was to avoid war, that "there might be neither widows nor orphans of his making." horsey wrote of him:-- "he is nowe become a prince of subjects, and not of slaves, kept within duty and loyalty by love and not by feare and tyranny. he is comely of stature, of countenance well-favoured and majesticalle withal; affable in behaviour and yet of great courage, wyse, politick, grave; merciful, a lover of virtue and goodness, a hater of wicked men, and a severe punisher of injustice. _in summa_, he is a most rare prince as ever reigned over these people as any i have ever read of in their chronicles, which are of great antiquity." in moscow was in a state of famine, the like of which it had never known. in a short time roubles would not buy as much food as copecks had done formerly. driven wild by hunger the muscovites committed fearful atrocities. men were entrapped, killed and eaten. it is said that some mothers killed and ate their own children; pies of human flesh were sold openly; many thousand corpses remained unburied in the streets; chroniclers state that half a million perished of famine and disease. to alleviate some of the misery, boris caused the granaries and stores to be burst open, and the food avarice withheld sold at normal prices. boris built two new palaces of stone within the kremlin; had made a map of the russian dominions, and a plan of moscow. to find employment for the poor he caused the belfry tower of ivan veliki to be constructed, and did his utmost to win the love of the citizens. he had to combat treason and intrigue; his reprisals were severe, but the victims suffered in secret. [illustration: church of the assumption] the belskis and romanofs were ill-treated; the head of the latter house was forced to become a monk, and took the name of philaret; his wife to become a nun, under the name of marfa. one of the most remarkable specimens of muscovite architecture has survived from boris godunov's day, the church of the assumption he built on the pokrovka. like other churches of mediæval moscow, its chief entrance is by steps to a second storey, but unlike them it is carried much higher and appears more like a collection of buildings piled upon each other. thirteen cupolas, at different heights, are arranged around the central dome. a covered gallery surrounds the church on the main storey, and the logia beneath was, until recently, divided and let as shops. in , the first false dmitri appeared, invading russia from the west, at the head of poles and zaporogians. boris was energetic and able, but the towns revolted on the approach of dmitri, and the soldiers of godunov's voievodes "found it hard to bear arms against their lawful sovereign." even mstislavski, who tried to stop the advance, had no soldiers to help him; his men "had not hands to fight, only feet with which to run away." shooiski was better able to rally his men, and he defeated dmitri at dobryvichi. boris then thought that the struggle was finished, but the movement had only just commenced. the ukraine rose; some , cossacks of the don joined the impostor, and the inaction of the voievodes to stop the advance towards moscow, proved that the spirit of treason was wide spread. boris godunov did not live to see the issue. after a repast he was suddenly taken ill; there was suspicion of poisoning and, expecting to die, he nominated his son theodore his successor. after confiding the youth to the care of his friend basmanov, to the patriarch and to the people of moscow, he breathed his last on the th april , being then but fifty-five years of age. theodore ascended the throne as soon as his father's remains were interred in the archangelski cathedral, but it soon became evident to his supporters that neither officers nor men would fight on behalf of the godunovs. rather than become a victim of treason, basmanov chose to be its author, and announced that he was convinced that dmitri was in truth the son of ivan the terrible. the impostor was audacious and successful. his career has the fascination of romance. he was one otrepief, a monk of the chudov monastery within the kremlin. job, the patriarch, made him his secretary, a position which enabled him to learn several state and court secrets. he said one day to his fellow scribes, that some day he would reign over them as tsar of muscovy. for answer they spat in his face, and reported his words. boris sent him a prisoner to the monastery on the white lake. he escaped, wandered about for some time, and at novgorod severski was well received by the inhabitants, to whom he revealed himself as the supposed murdered dmitri, and promised all who helped him suitable rewards if he should obtain his own rights. then he threw off his cowl and joined a band of zaporogians; learned of them how to ride and fight. as a soldier he sought service with adam vichnevetski, a polish _pan_ of good standing. he soon feigned illness; a priest was summoned, and to him he confessed that he was the son of the tsar. this disclosure was of too great political value to remain the secret of the priest, and in due course otrepief was recognised as dmitri by vichnevetski. then the papal nuncio took him under his protection, and he was presented to king sigismund. it is unlikely that these dignitaries were deceived. sigismund feigned to believe otrepief's story, but refused to recognise him officially, though he allowed his subjects, at their own risk, to take service under otrepief's banner and foment a revolution. from various motives the russian leaders flocked to him as he marched towards moscow. in the town the people crowded in the grand square to hear the news of his triumphant progress; his manifesto was read from the lobnoe mesto, and none dare stay the treason, not even the patriarch would venture! the boyards mstislavski, vasili shooiski, belski and others, went out to argue with the citizens, but they were met with cries of "the day of godunov is over! to-day the sun rises upon russia; dmitri! long live the tsar dmitri! down with the godunovs! cursed be the memory of boris! long live dmitri!" so shouting, this crowd made its way into the kremlin. the rioters were masters; the guard fled, and the townsmen who had forced their way into the palace actually pulled the young tsar from the throne. his mother begged them to spare his life, and her cry was heeded. the godunovs were removed from the palace to their own dwelling and a guard placed over them. the relations and friends of the godunovs were then imprisoned, their dwellings pillaged and destroyed. belski, from his known antipathy to the godunovs, became the counsellor of the mob. some time later the partisans of dmitri made a fresh attack on the kremlin. the object of their fury on this occasion was the patriarch. he was celebrating mass in the cathedral of the assumption when an armed band forced their way into the sanctuary, seized him at the altar, dragged him forth and tore away his vestments. clad in black he was brought in ignominy from the church, shown to the people, and sent away on a common cart to the monastery of staritsa, five hundred versts from moscow. on the th of june , the princes galitzin and mossolski, with a couple of secretaries and three of the guard of streltsi, went to the palace of the godunovs; took theodore and his sister from the arms of the tsarina and ordered the guard to put them to death in an adjoining room, and then strangled the tsarina herself. theodore made a struggle for life, fighting savagely, but he was struck down. xenia was spared; dmitri who had heard of her beauty ordered mossolski to find an asylum for her in his mansion. the corpses of marie and theodore after being exposed to the public, were interred in the convent of st varsonophee on the srietenka, and the disinterred body of boris godunov brought to the same resting-place. at this time dmitri was at tula, but all being now in readiness for his enthronement, he came to moscow and made a state entry unparalleled for its magnificence and pageantry. a violent gust of wind which somewhat disturbed the procession as it crossed the moskva was taken as an omen of ill, and later in the day, by an unlucky coincidence, at the moment when the clergy were prostrate before the holy ikons, the foreign musicians sounded a fanfare. when dmitri prostrated himself before the tomb of ivan and cried, "oh my father, thou left me an orphan and in exile, but by thy prayers i have regained my possessions!" the simple people were convinced of his identity. he was crowned; his supposed mother, maria nagoi, recognised him, and his rule commenced. little fault can be found with the way in which dmitri governed. he pardoned those who had suffered from the godunovs, and was generous to those who had shown themselves inimical to him; he rewarded his partisans handsomely and was lavish in his expenditure. he purchased and ordered rich furnishings for himself and the court, exhibiting a prodigality that frightened the more staid of the moscow citizens. in three months he is said to have spent more than seven million roubles, and the display of riches was the wonder of foreign visitors to his court. he rode arabs, dressed his servants like nobles, and built and furnished a palace that surpassed anything seen in moscow. it was of wood; the stoves of porcelain had doors of silver; the bolts and bars of the palace were all gold, or at least gilded; before the entrance was an enormous statue of cerberus, of which the three jaws opened wide at the least blow. the chroniclers state that "this was a symbol of the dwelling that was to be dmitri's throughout eternity." there were malcontents, and chief among them was vasili shooiski, who, on the denunciation of basmanov, was tortured and condemned to death. at the last moment he was pardoned, but was implacable, and worked assiduously for the overthrow of dmitri and the ruin of basmanov. pope paul v. sent rogoni to moscow on the usual errand, but dmitri was in nowise inclined to make any submission to rome. at the same time he was tolerant, and this tolerance gave great offence to the orthodox. he allowed lutherans to preach; permitted the jesuits to have a place of worship within the kremlin; even listened to an address in latin delivered by a jesuit in an orthodox church. equally irritating was the freedom foreigners now had to enter an orthodox church, the doors of which had been hitherto closed against all but the faithful. dmitri upbraided the clergy for their intolerance. "with us," said he, "there is only the outward observance, we ignore the spirit of our religion. you fast, you prostrate yourselves before relics, you worship the holy ikons, but you do not understand the spirit of religion. you consider yourselves the most upright people on the earth, and meanwhile you do not even live as do christians. you lack charity: you are little inclined to good works. why do you scorn those who dissent from you? what is the roman faith? it is a christian faith, even as yours is." such opinions as these alienated everyone, but especially the clergy. to them he was gracious, allowing the patriarch, four metropolitans, seven archbishops and three bishops to have seats on the general council--a privilege they had previously received upon very special occasions only. an order he made for an inventory of clerical property inflamed the priests of all degrees against him. crull writes of him:-- "for his owne person, he maintayneth his greatnesse very well. he was a man of mean stature, browne of hue, prompt to choler, but quickly appeased. he hath broken many a staff, and given sentence of death, upon the marshals and other officers, when they did but little swerve from their duty. after he grew to know the russians' false pranks, he provided himself with a guard of livonians, and afterwards also of asmaynes and other strangers.... he yet further determined to have also a hundred musketeers, when he was laid apart. he took great delight in hunting, and in casting great pieces of artillery, and not only to see them in hand but also to proove them himself: for which end he caused ravelynes and ramparts to be erected to imitate an assault." dmitri was too fond of the customs of the west to satisfy the muscovites. many charges were made against him which seem absurd now. among them may be instanced "that he favoured foreigners, especially musicians;" ordinarily he sacrificed pomp, and went hither and thither about moscow like a simple citizen. he took the cannon out of the town to test various pieces "and might then have turned them on the town"; he liked to watch mimic battles, and laughed when the muscovites were routed by the foreign soldiers. he ate meat during lent and veal at any time. he showed little or no regard for russian customs, and broke down those barriers that prevented the common people from having access to their tsar. much could have been pardoned, but two things were decisive: he would not sleep after dinner, and he mounted his horse at a bound. when dmitri arranged to wed marina mniszek, the daughter of a polish pan, vasili shooiski plotted anew for his overthrow. he it was who had been commissioned to hold the inquiry into the crime committed at uglitch; and the people remembered that he, if anyone, knew the truth respecting the murder of ivan's son and the identity of their present ruler. this in some measure accounts for dmitri's surprising leniency towards this enemy. in his new plot shooiski counted upon the support of , men of novgorod and pskov, then in moscow on their way to do battle against the krim-tartars. the tsar could count on the support of the common people, and though warned of the danger that was threatening, he took no measures to ensure his own safety, or that of his guests and bride. the agents of shooiski circulated two rumours; one, among the boyard and clergy, to the effect that with the help of the newly arrived poles "dmitri" intended to massacre the boyards and introduce the roman faith; to the common people it was represented that the poles were ill-treating the tsar. on the night of the th of may the soldiers secured the entrances to the kremlin; and on the morning of the th, shooiski, with a cross in one hand and a drawn sword in the other, obtained an entrance through the redeemer gate, made straight for the cathedral of the assumption and, prostrating himself before the ikon of mary of vladimir, called upon those around him in the name of god to attack the cursed heretics. the alarm bell rang; basmanov met some boyards who, with swords drawn, demanded that "dmitri" should be given them. they killed him; then entered the palace in search of the tsar, who tried to escape, and to defend himself. driven along a corridor, he slipped, was stabbed, and thrown into the courtyard. the guard of streltsi, called to his assistance, would have defended him, but when threatened by vasili and the boyards, the tsar prayed them to desist, and the companions of shooiski thereupon despatched him. marina was spared, and a guard left to protect her; but the conspirators, having killed dmitri, basmanov, and a hundred or more of the foreign musicians in the palace, they spread over the kitai gorod and murdered without discrimination all the poles and foreigners they encountered. these scenes continued all day, and at last the populace took up the cry of "down with the poles!" and the massacre of foreigners became general. the bodies of "dmitri" and basmanov, their faces covered with ribald masks, prepared for "mummeries" in celebration of the wedding, were dragged out on to the grand square and exposed to the public; later these corpses were burned, and the ashes fired from a cannon. on the day following the massacre, vasili shooiski was proclaimed tsar. the action was too precipitate. galitzin, who was a candidate, was not satisfied; the provinces were annoyed that they had not been consulted. shooiski did not feel secure. he sent into the distant parts of the empire as voievodes those boyards who had taken the side of "dmitri." among them was mossolski, who, on leaving moscow, took a letter addressed to "dmitri," and had already formed the idea of advancing someone else to the throne. vasili shooiski was fifty years of age, he lacked energy, and his rule satisfied no one. pretenders sprang up everywhere; at one time there were seventeen people claiming to be "dmitri"; others took the name of peter; all claimed to be sons of ivan. fighting men took their part. cossacks, zaporogians, and others, wanted war for the booty it brought. the nobles led a war in the south; in the east the tartars thought the time opportune for action; finns tried to recover their independence; swedes and poles looked on, waiting for the best moment at which to interfere. news travelled slowly, lack of communication made local risings possible. the people in distant parts heard almost at the same time that the tsar was dead, that dmitri had recovered his own, that the usurper had been dethroned--they knew not what to believe. in moscow the citizens remembered that the bodies which had been exposed on the grand square had the faces masked: to most it seemed possible that "dmitri" had escaped after all. it was some time before the revolutionists joined forces. in the meantime shooiski instigated an anti-foreign reaction. dmitri exiled a bishop named hermogen, an able, devout man, uncompromisingly orthodox, stubborn and bigoted, who now became patriarch, and won the confidence of the people. in due course the different sections of the army of revolutionaries closed in towards moscow. lissovski, a noted brigand, had a large following. there was john zapieha, exiled from poland, seeking fortune, and with him numerous "pans," intent on the spoils of war; a host of zaporogians, and the usual large army of cossacks, under the hetman rojinski, joined them. in the field the superior talents of michael skopin-shooiski, a nephew of the tsar, saved the situation. he refused overtures made by liapunov, and this voievode consequently separated his following from that of the revolutionaries and joined shooiski. bolotnikov had then to fall back on tula, and he wrote to mniszek that unless "dmitri" was produced, their cause would be lost. he was found, but too late to save bolotnikov, who was drowned; another leader was hanged. the identity of the new impostor is as disputed as that of "junius"; to historians he is simply the "second false dmitri," the "brigand of tushino," or the "little tsar." his party was strong, because each of its units expected spoils in case of victory; it received such support as it had from the people by reason of the ex-tsaritsa marina, the widow of "dmitri," and mniszek, recognising the impostor as "dmitri." the northern towns supported the impostor, and sigismund and the poles made common cause with him against moscow. shooiski, who had refused the proffered aid of sweden, now sought help, and from novgorod the young delagardie was sent on behalf of sweden. more could have been accomplished had not vasili shooiski been so jealous of the successes and popularity of his nephew. he was afraid to let him take the field, and the impostor established himself at tushino, a village ten miles to the north of moscow. here he held his court, and enticed the muscovites by promises. nobles and citizens alike essayed to be on good terms with both shooiski, the "half-tsar," and the impostor, the "little tsar," spending their time at both courts, and earning the name of pereletsi (birds-of-passage) by their frequent changes of residence. the townsmen were so demoralised that they were ready for whomsoever should succeed, yet gave little assistance to either "tsar," and responded but feebly to future attempts at insurrection within the capital. the soldiers returned to their homes, and shooiski became by turns devout and ribald. now spending all his hours in church, anon seeking aid of sorcerers; one day punishing traitors with extreme rigour, the next proclaiming that all were free to do as they wished. the few who remained true to shooiski sent sons or near relations to make court to the impostor. the church saved russia in this extremity; it was unswervingly orthodox and opposed to polish supremacy. the rich monastery of troitsa attracted the cupidity of the revolutionaries, and some , men under zapieha and lissovski laid siege to the famous monastery in . the monks held out bravely, keeping the besiegers at bay for sixteen months. in september sigismund himself laid siege to smolensk. the people refused to submit; the voievode shein defended the town so well that sigismund found it necessary to call all poles to his banner. zapieha very reluctantly left troitsa and joined sigismund, knowing that in case of victory the spoils would now fall to the king of poland. the russians with the "little tsar" had no choice but to accompany the poles, and the impostor, deserted, sought refuge in flight. disguised, he went south, and later marina and mniszek joined him. the condition of the nobles and commoners who had taken the part of the impostor was pitiable. in despair a deputation, headed by soltikov, waited upon sigismund and said that the muscovites beat their foreheads in the dust before his majesty, and begged that his son vladislas would take the throne of the tsars, making only one condition, namely, that he should become of the orthodox faith. a compact was made between sigismund and the delegates, by which, under certain conditions, vladislas was to succeed to the throne of muscovy. in the meantime michael skopin-shooiski died in the hour of his victories. his uncles were accused of having poisoned him. when, at last, dmitri shooiski went out against sigismund, he was beaten by jolkievski and betrayed by the leader of the foreign regiment. the poles then marched on to moscow, and thitherward also came the impostor with a fresh following, thinking the town would choose him in preference to vladislas. moscow was in uproar; the inhabitants knew not what to do. on one hand the proclamation of jolkievski promised peace, abundance, and prosperity; on the other, the impostor with more specious promises held fast those who had already paid court to him. some suggested that neither candidate should be accepted, but a new tsar elected by the people. matters drifted on until the th july when, after the result of a meeting at serphukov became known, the boyards and citizens together most humbly requested vasili shooiski to abdicate, because "he caused christian blood to be shed and was not successful in his government." he retired to his private dwelling and subsequently became a monk in the chudov monastery. when the boyards had to choose between the pole and the impostor, some wished to restore shooiski to power. for the time being the council was content to enforce an oath of fealty to _it_, and to await the coming of jolkievski, then at mojaisk. sigismund had determined upon securing the throne for himself, and jolkievski had a difficult part to play. the russians elected an embassy to sigismund; it consisted of those who were most likely to oppose the polish supremacy: then, the better to guard against the impostor, the poles were requested to garrison the kremlin. the dissidents were thus got out of the town, and the key to the stronghold of the empire was given into the hands of the poles. the muscovites progressed so slowly with their negotiations that jolkievski left gonsievski in command and returned to smolensk, taking shooiski with him. the patriarch alone remained inexorable. he protested against the polish occupation and refused all attempts at compromise. more, he was unceasing in his attempts to awaken the muscovites to their duty, to their religion, their country and themselves. his attitude was most irritating to the boyards favouring the poles and to the officers of the garrison, for the indomitable prelate, deprived of the wherewithal to write, called out loudly to the people to revolt. the boyard soltikov, enraged by his repeated refusals to sign the submission, struck at him with a dagger, but the cross of the prelate warded off the blow. "the cross is my only weapon that i have against thee, cursed one!" he called, and the garrison did their best to prevent the people from entering the cathedral to hear him. cast in prison, he still found means to inflame the populace. the "little tsar," after the alliance between the poles and muscovites was accomplished, withdrew to kaluga. soon afterwards he was murdered; he left marina and a son, but neither now were of importance to russia. sigismund wanted smolensk reunited to poland; the delegates wanted vladislas in moscow at once. sigismund delayed. he tried what he could do with smolensk; when the secretary tomila was asked if he would surrender the town, he answered, "if i were to do it, not only would god and muscovites curse me, but the earth would open and swallow me." others were not so honest. the king was besieged by applicants for favours and rewards in return for services rendered, or to be rendered. in the kremlin, the boyards denounced each other to the commandant, galitzin and vorontski were arrested; others lost what little prestige remained to them. hermogen succeeded in getting two letters circulated; both were calls to the faithful to rise against the poles. they excited indignation, and at last liapunov started out from riazan with an army and arrived before moscow. the poles besought hermogen to order this force to disperse. he refused and defied the poles to do their worst. in matters quickly became worse. as long as jolkievski was in the kremlin, russians and poles were at peace with each other, but gonsievski was not so successful. some poles were so foolish as to mock the orthodox worshippers, and although severely punished, the circumstance roused the muscovites to action. there were several riots, but these were quelled, and the measures the poles took to ensure their own safety irritated the citizens still more. hatred increased day by day; the position of the poles became critical. as holy week approached, gonsievski fearing trouble forbade the usual ceremonies. this so offended the people that he was forced to give way. the critical period passed with one or two unimportant risings, when suddenly a quarrel broke out with the carters, who had been asked to haul cannons into position and had refused. soon the fighting became general in the town. prince pojarski, with the advance guard of the russian army, had just arrived on the sretenka when the poles and germans fell ruthlessly upon the citizens. the massacre lasted an hour or more, some seven thousand being killed. the alarm bells were ringing, and the crowd at last was chased from the kitai gorod when the poles who followed further were driven back by the cannon of pojarski. the poles and foreigners had then to entrench themselves and, to clear the neighbourhood, the poles fired the town. the conflagration spread rapidly and lasted three days. the russians abandoned the burning town; the bielo gorod was destroyed, and much of the kitai gorod also; the dwellings and warehouses of the foreign merchants were consumed, and the "english factory" lost several of its members. some went into the cellars and were suffocated, the survivors made a dash for the kremlin, and were helped over the wall by the poles, where their position was precarious, for they were amidst a town in flames in a foreign country, among a people in revolt against the garrison. some vestiges of this fire are still found occasionally when excavating--old vaults full of charred wood and burned bricks--whilst the wall of the kitia gorod itself is said to bear evidence in several places of the fire that for days raged round it, and vitrified the bricks and tiles of its battlements and machecoules. when the news of the disaster in moscow reached sigismund he sent the delegates and hostages as prisoners to marienburg. shortly afterwards smolensk capitulated: the brave shein was tortured for holding out so long, then sigismund returned to warsaw and led the ex-tsar shooiski in triumph through the streets. he delayed in hastening needed reinforcements to the besieged garrison in the kremlin of moscow, counting those that reached it during the conflagration sufficient. during easter week liapunov arrived; he was closely followed by zarutski with don-cossacks and prince troubetskoi with the levies from kaluga. the russian forces camped on the ashes of the bielo gorod and, if the leaders had been united and vigilant, success might have been theirs. day by day the situation became more dangerous for the beleaguered poles--obliged to make frequent sorties for food, and losing men on each occasion. zapieha made an attempt to relieve the garrison but failed; the , russians round the kremlin kept him away, but themselves were unable to carry the fortress by assault and too lax to starve the enemy out. gonsievski did well. threats failing to move the stubborn hermogen, a letter was written to the leader of the cossacks to the effect that liapunov intended to ruin them. they treacherously killed him; the cause of russia seemed lost, for there was no longer a leader in whom all could trust, but impostors and intriguers beyond count. the cossacks determined to fight for their own hand; the nobles and boyards held aloof, save those with the poles in the kremlin. zapieha revictualled the garrison; sweden threatened novgorod, and called the heir-apparent tsar of russia; a fresh usurper found a following at pskov; cossacks, poles and brigands of different nationalities overran the country, pillaged towns and burned villages, and during that winter of - food was so scarce that "men devoured each other." there was no sovereign recognised, no chief authority, no law. from time to time the archimandrite denis, and his able seconder abraham palitizin, sent letters to the different towns urging the people to rise, retake moscow, and save the holy relics. hermogen was starving imprisoned in the kremlin; the poles allowed the ex-patriarch ignatius to act in his stead. moscow was powerless. the other towns commenced to govern themselves and to raise local forces for their own protection. the high priest sabbas made a stirring appeal to the people to unite and deliver their fatherland. his eloquence moved the citizens of nijni-novgorod to tears. he called on the faithful "to assert their unity, join together to defend the pure and true religion of christ, free the holy cathedral of the blessed virgin, and recover the sainted remains of the miracle workers of moscow." an elder of the province, one cosma minin, by trade a butcher, exhorted his neighbours to initiate the rising. his appeal was, "orthodox! if we wish to save our country, do not fear to sacrifice our goods, to sell our possessions, aye, even to pledge our wives and children if need be, and find a commander faithful to our religion and capable of leading us, then will victory be ours!" the most suitable leader seemed to minin to be the prince pojarski who had fought at moscow and been wounded in the fray. he lived near by on his estate in suzdal, and to him minin went and offered the command of the volunteering peasants. pojarski had shown no strong partisanship, had sought favours of no one, and was willing to fight for the general good. these provincials were undoubtedly in earnest; a three days' fast was enjoined and made obligatory for all, even suckling babes. when the troops began to gather together, in the spring of , the poles and boyards in the kremlin became desperate, and once more ordered hermogen to command the leaders to disperse their forces. he refused; and in the days of dire necessity that followed he died, starved to death, and was buried within the chudov monastery. prince pojarski advanced very slowly towards moscow: it appeared to be that he was waiting for an assembly general at yaroslavl to elect a tsar, fearing without a sovereign the russian provincial troops would not act together against so many enemies, native and foreign. the garrison of the kremlin, now commanded by struss, was ill-provisioned. the cossacks had retired to the south-east, zarutski's intention being to beat up reinforcements and re-attack with the followers of the "little tsar" and secure the throne for marina and her son. from the west, khodkevich came with reinforcements and provisions to the relief of struss. pojarski arrived on the th august, but was separated from troubetskoi. on the st august khodkevich arrived on that side of the town guarded by pojarski, whose troops therefore were the first to be attacked. [illustration: dom romanof] on the rd the poles and pojarski engaged in a fierce battle. later troubetskoi led his men also against the poles, and with him went a part of the cossack army. khodkevich was driven back, but fought stubbornly. the next day he renewed his attempt to reach the kremlin. pojarski begged troubetskoi to join forces, and abraham politzin persuaded the cossacks to assist in defeating the polish relief. attacked on both sides simultaneously, khodkevich retreated from the commanding position he had occupied; then the sudden appearance of minin, with a few hundred peasants who fought most savagely, turned the retreat into a rout, and the polish treasure fell into the hands of the cossacks. after this victory pojarski and troubetskoi joined forces and formed a provisional administration. the defenders of the kremlin were in despair. they were short of food and ammunition, and the fact that poles had forced their way through the russian ranks and joined the garrison was in no way advantageous. soon they deserted the kitai gorod and took refuge in the kremlin, holding it a month longer in hope that relief would reach them. the usual horrors of a long siege were manifest; not only did they devour everything that was eatable, but even gnawed at their own flesh and disinterred corpses. the boyards with their wives and families were sent out of the kremlin and at last the poles were compelled by hunger to surrender. on the th october the muscovites made their entry into the kremlin, and after much thanksgiving and praise, proceeded to the election of a new ruler. sigismund with an army was coming to the relief of the poles, but was unable to subdue the towns on his way. his ambassadors to the muscovites were not even received by the victorious leaders. the swedes were informed that no one of their race would be elected. boyards intrigued for galitzin, for shooiski, and for others. the provincial army was determined that there should be a general assembly for the election of the tsar, and the candidate most favoured by all classes seemed to be the young michael theodorovich romanof. old men remembered anastasia romanof, the first wife of ivan the terrible; younger ones had nothing but praise for philaret, the present head of the family; all pitied the persecutions and hardships its members had suffered because of their relationship to the old royal line--if unanimity was necessary, no candidate had so good a chance of securing it as had the young romanof. on february st, , the electors met around the lobnoe mesto in the grand square. the crowd shouted lustily for mikhail theodorovich romanof, and to the general wish the electors gave the only possible expression. by some it is thought that the crown was offered to pojarski who declined it; it is a fiction of latter day poets, as are dmitriev's lines:-- "what--what shall be his recompense? look! he who made the invaders bleed and moscow and his country freed, he--modest as courageous--he takes the bright garland from his brow, and to a youth he bends him now, he bends an aged and hero-knee 'thou art of royal blood,' he said, 'thy father is in our foeman's hand; wear then this garland on thy head and bless--o bless, our father-land!'" the new dynasty was founded, but quite early, if the tradition be true, was likely to have been extinguished. the poles on learning the news endeavoured to put the young romanof to death; an attempt to waylay him was frustrated by the heroism of the peasant sussanin who, in the district of kostroma, gave his "life for the tsar" by leading astray in the forest the murderous band searching for him. historians now say that he had no opportunity of so doing, but the fact remains that for some service rendered the romanofs the sussanins for many generations enjoyed rare privileges, and if the tale be not true, it has at least resulted in the russians obtaining from the theme their finest opera, glinka's "life for the tsar." the "time of trouble" for moscow was not over on the appointment of a tsar, but the muscovites entered upon a very glorious era with a tsar of their own choosing. chapter vii _moscow of the tsars_ "mid forests deep the turrets gleaming of moscow's gorgeous kremlin stand, beauteous golden-crown! peerless white-walled town!" all russian poets. writers in the west still ignore the history of russia previous to the reign of peter the great, attributing to that monarch reforms he did not initiate, and a policy of which he was not the author and followed but indifferently. the real makers of the russian nation were the wise romanofs who preceded the tyrant peter. the history of the period may be briefly recounted, apart from the story of the construction of the great town--the moscow of the tsars. it was under the tsar michael that the relations of russia with the west became general; under alexis, who succeeded him in , not only were the poles driven back and other enemies conquered, but those great social and economic reforms were introduced, the working of which subsequently "westernised" russia. theodore during his short reign of five years successfully continued what his father had commenced. it was the claims made on behalf of his half-brother peter that caused the hands of the clock to be set back. the story of peter is well known, but its teaching has been often misinterpreted. to obtain the truth let the moscow of theodore alexeivich be compared with the russia of peter, or of any of his eighteenth century successors. the one exhibits the highest normal achievement of purely muscovite ideals, and reveals the capacity of russia to absorb what is nearest akin to its own spirit from among the more progressive motives of the west. peter crudely grafted a coarse imitation of western forms upon a rarer stock; stagnation and corruption were the result. it was not until the nineteenth century, and the complete abandonment of peter's policy, that russia once more advanced towards civilisation. a country devastated by foreign invaders and surrounded with bitter and relentless enemies; a territory wasted by internecine warfare; the cinders of a capital; an empty treasury; a famished and pestilent ridden people--such was the gift of the electors in to michael theodorovich romanof, a boy of sixteen, whose mother was in a convent and father in a foreign prison. no wonder that he hesitated, and that his friends urged prudence. the people were honest, and michael exacted proofs of their earnestness. slowly he advanced towards moscow, urging his subjects to prepare suitable apartments for himself and his mother in the spoiled ruins of the kremlin, to store afresh the warehouses with provisions and replenish the treasury. the boyards answered that they had already prepared the palace of ivan for himself, and a suite in the convent of the ascension for his mother, but it was impossible to restore the golden palace and terem of the tsaritsa irene, for there was no money, carpenters were lacking, the buildings roofless, and the stairs, corridors, doors, windows, and all furnishings were no longer in existence; it would be necessary to rebuild, and time pressed. michael was not satisfied; the palaces must be made fit for habitation, if materials were lacking those of other buildings must be used, and as for the apartments in the convent, "it will not suit my mother to occupy them." ultimately the tsar's behests were executed, and in may he made his state entry, more than two months after his election to the throne. both at home and abroad his position was regarded as precarious. zarutski, who had with him marina mniszek, the widow of the false dmitri, and her son, held kazan and ruled the districts bordering the volga. he was ultimately captured, and executed in moscow. marina and her son were also taken; according to native writers she "died in prison of chagrin"; according to foreigners in russia at that time, she and her son were thrust beneath the ice on the river oka. sweeden continued the war, and would not relinquish her claim to the throne. it terminated after gustavus adolphus was repulsed at pskov, and failed to take narva. a swedish officer states that "from their youth up, the muscovites are inured to continuous labour and much fasting, and can make shift long with meal, salt and water only. they hold it to be a deadly and unpardonable sin to surrender a fortress, and prefer to die happily for their tsar and country." the swedes contemplated a long siege, but by the good offices of the dutch and english an armistice of three months was agreed to, and in a lasting peace concluded on terms disadvantageous to russia. an army of poles was marching upon moscow, when it was re-inforced by ronashevich-salidachni at the head of , cossacks; michael repulsed their attack on moscow, but, anxious to secure his father's release, agreed to relinquish smolensk, so a peace to endure fourteen years and six months was thereupon made. immediately after his coronation the tsar sent envoys to england, germany and the netherlands, seeking their assistance in securing peace. the english promised a loan of £ , and paid , roubles only towards it; but king james prevented scots taking service in poland against russia, and the tsar obtained his munitions of war from the english factory at archangel. in such fashion was a respite obtained, so that undivided attention might be given to establishing good order within the tsar's empire. surely no ruler started with greater disadvantages than did michael. to the inexperience of youth must be added a lack of competent advisers. the old hereditary aristocracy had for the most part disappeared; those members who survived had taken sides with either the second impostor or the poles, and in them he dared not trust. there remained only appointed military and civil officers, boyards, whose titles were not hereditary, secretaries, and gentlemen of the council. in russia, where there was no general instruction and little learning, all was left to a governing caste, composed of men who, from their noble birth, had the entrée to the court and were conversant with all affairs of state; it was this "caste" michael lacked. the men, able men, who were not accustomed to rule, did not seek responsible posts. even pojarski, the saviour of the country, said to vasili galitzin, "if we had found such a leader as you, vasili vasilievich, all the country would have at once flocked to you, and it would not have devolved upon me to direct so onerous a task." the times of trouble had forced simple citizens to occupy positions of importance; such were the butcher cosma minin, zarutski, troubetskoi, liapunov and fedka andronov. to none of the humble born leaders were the degenerate nobles prepared to grant precedence or even equality; whilst on the other hand, affairs of state could no longer be entrusted to those who had betrayed the country, or by past conduct, proved themselves incapable. squabbles for precedence at once recommenced. when dmitri mikhailovich pojarksi, the great liberator, was created a boyard, one gabriel pushkin threw himself at the tsar's feet and pleaded that the thing might not be, for "his own family was in no way inferior to that of pojarski," who, as boyard, would be appointed a higher place than he himself occupied at court. these nobles could not, or would not, understand that services to the state should be considered. birth alone was to count, for these nobles to remain side by side with a person of inferior birth was considered an ignominy to which death itself was preferable. on the occasion of the tsar's coronation, there were several disputes for priority of place, notwithstanding that the tsar had ordered that during the ceremonies all ranks were to be discarded. before the coronation, in the palace of the golden seal prince tretiakov, the secretary, nominated those who were to bear the regalia. "prince mstislavski will throw the golden coins upon the tsar; the new boyard, ivan nikitich romanof, will carry the crown of monomachus; prince dmitri troubetskoi, the sceptre; the new boyard, prince pojarski, the 'globe!'" troubetskoi took offence that he had to cede his place to a romanof, albeit a relative of his sovereign. the tsar answered, "it may be that your rank is higher than that of ivan, but he is my uncle, and you must give place to him at a time when the order of rank is not to be observed." this appeased troubetskoi, but later, one boris likof, invited to the table of the tsar, would not cede his place until the tsar personally intervened. on the next occasion he failed to attend, although the tsar twice sent for him. each time he sent the same answer, "i am ready to yield my life on the scaffold, but allow a romanof to take precedence of a likof i will not!" sometimes these quarrels embarrassed the tsar on occasions of state, as when, at the reception of the persian envoys, his body-guard disappeared. one hid himself away so quickly that he could not be found; another feigned indisposition; another was dragged into the presence coupled with prince romodanovski; cherchugov complained of romodanovski, and prince pojarski also took offence, and upbraided cherchugov for dishonouring his rank by his alliance with romodanovski. the tsar ordered cherchugov to be beaten, and determined to avoid such annoyances in future by choosing his bodyguard from among the lesser nobles, who could not plead the privileges of their ancestors. when telepnef and larionof were appointed, one at once took offence and pointed out to the tsar that he was a freeman of moscow, whereas the other was but a secretary! such were the earlier troubles of the boy-tsar, who longed for the advice of his father in such matters of trifling importance; he, on his return to moscow, ruled the court with commanding adroitness. this matter of precedence came to the front again in the next reign, when alexis settled it once and for all. hereditary rank was based upon the achievements of one's ancestors, which, with the titles and honours of the successful, were enumerated in the manuscript-books treasured by each family. in practice no noble would accept an office inferior to that occupied by his illustrious forefathers. often incapable as military leaders, this meant ruin to the state. alexis, after sufficient experience of the disasters the system entailed, proposed the abolition of hereditary rank, and petitioned the church to pronounce upon his finding that "precedence was an institution invented by the devil, for the purpose of destroying christian love and of increasing the hatred of brother for brother." in due course the patriarch declared that in the opinion of the church, "precedence was a system opposed to god, and intended to cause confusion and hatred." thereupon the nobles were commanded to deliver up their "golden books of honour and great deeds," and the records were burned, so that henceforth precedence depended upon court and military rank alone. [illustration: belvedere of the terem] when michael ascended the throne the two most powerful factions of the nobility were those headed respectively by the miloslavksis and the soltikovs, between whom no love was lost. to obtain greater influence and power they intrigued for the marriage of the tsar. michael's choice was one marie kholopov, to whom he was betrothed. before marriage she was drugged at the instigation of the soltikovs, and her illness represented as incurable. she, and all her relatives, were then banished to siberia for "attempting to deceive the tsar," and remained in exile seven years, when the patriarch discovered the intrigue. this resulted in the fall of the soltikovs from power, and the return of the khlopovs to nijni-novgorod. michael next chose marie dolgoruki, but she died a few months after marriage, and twelve months later, michael was urged to marry again. the earlier method of selecting a bride was resorted to upon this occasion, and the tsar's intention made known throughout the empire. according to s. w. glinka what took place is as follows:-- "on the morrow the tsar was to make known publicly whom he had chosen as his bride. that evening the carriages of the palace brought to his residence the marriageable daughters of all the noble and illustrious families who had gathered in moscow for this election. these young ladies of high degree all wore the vestments provided by the tsar, and were accompanied by their mothers, or a near relative. in turn they were presented to the tsar's mother, martha ivanovna, and the mothers and relatives then returned to their homes; the young ladies, attended by their maids remained, and donned the nightdresses they had brought with them. the chambers to which they were appointed contained two rows of beds. towards midnight, the tsar, accompanied by his mother, went in to examine the candidates. the scrutiny finished, he returned to his own apartments, and his mother anxiously inquired upon whom his choice had fallen. to her surprise, michael indicated the maid of one of the ladies. martha ivanovna could not believe her ears. she earnestly begged her son to reflect, before offending the pride and dignity of the princes, nobles and boyards by such a choice. then she asked a definite answer, for, before the sun rose, it would have to be declared officially, before the patriarch and the clergy assembled in the cathedral of the assumption for that purpose. michael answered, 'i have obeyed you and the will of god in accepting the crown. never have i dared to act contrary to your wishes. you have always been my counsellor and my support: i will do as you wish but ... but ... never ... never ... will i choose another; nor love anyone else. it is my fate to be unhappy! i lost my wife a few months after my marriage--now, to-day, i am deprived of the bride of my choice. she is of humble birth; perhaps she is poor; may be, unhappy. but i also have suffered--i too have been persecuted!' and the tsar burst into tears. martha ivanovna could not resist this appeal. 'my son, my son!' she cried, 'have i not suffered as well? my husband languishing in exile; the murderous swords of cruel enemies directed towards you! heaven has protected you, has chosen you to rule this realm. may the will of god be done! i will not thwart your desire. take for wife the one whom you have chosen.' "thereupon martha ivanovna at once sought out what she could respecting the young girl her son had noticed. she was informed that her name was eudoxia, the daughter of lucian stephanovich striechnef, a poor gentleman of mojaisk, and herself a distant relative of the lady in whose service she was. just as her mistress was haughty, proud and overbearing, so was the maid docile and modest. michael himself had had to bear oppression. ill-treatment he hated. he felt for eudoxia, and chose her because she was ill-used. "then eudoxia was led into the tsar's apartments, was richly clothed, and presented with jewels. martha ivanovna called her daughter, and the tsar himself called god to witness that she was his bride. the patriarch, philaret, gave his blessing to his son, both as father and as head of the church. the clergy prayed that the pride of the wicked might be humbled and the virtuous protected. the citizens were pleased and shouted 'long live michael and eudoxia!' and there was general rejoicing. then the daughters of the princes, and nobles, and boyards, were presented to eudoxia and made their homage. in her confusion and modesty she would not allow them to kiss her hand, but cordially embraced each maid. when it came to the turn of her own relation, the frightened girl threw herself at the feet of eudoxia and begged for mercy and pardon. eudoxia bent down and said, 'you also forgive me! it in any way i have offended.' forthwith the lovers were formally betrothed, and, as all the world knows, michael married eudoxia, and they lived happy ever afterwards." another story, quite as like a fairy tale as this is, concerns itself with eudoxia's father, whom the ambassadors of the tsar found at the plough. lucian was not surprised at his daughter's good fortune; he saw in it only the hand of providence. when he forsook his thatched cottage for a suite in the palace, he carried away with him his old clothes and other things, which he hung on the wall of his new apartment, and each morning uncovered them that he might not forget his origin, and be mindful of the workers and the poor. he lived for many years within the kremlin, saw eudoxia's son, alexis, upon the throne, and found himself an honoured member of his own grandson's household, and surrounded by his daughter's numerous royal grandchildren. the next occasion that offered for the intrigues of those who sought court influence through a matrimonial alliance was in when alexis, the son of michael and eudoxia, resolved to marry. of the two hundred noble maids assembled for his selection he chose euphemia vsevolojski, who had enemies. these arranged their plans with her maids-of-honour. when she was attired in the royal robes, her attendants twisted her hair so tightly that she swooned in the tsar's presence, and the court physician declared her to be epileptic. she and her family were thereupon banished to far away tiumen in siberia. the next year alexis married marie ilyinichna miloslavski, who bore him thirteen children, and died in childbed in . in his next marriage alexis observed the letter of the customary proceeding but disregarded its spirit. at that time his chief counsellor was artemon sergievich matviev, a man who had commanded a foreign regiment in the wars and married mary hamilton, one of a scotch family resident in moscow. matviev had no daughter, but living with the family was natalia naryshkin, the daughter of cyril naryshkin, whose brother theodore had married a hamilton, the niece of matviev's wife. matviev made his house as attractive as he could to the tsar, giving western entertainments, even to the performance of comedies and tragedies in his private theatre. western manners prevailed among them; his wife dressed in what were called "german" clothes, and both she and her ward appeared at table although strangers might be present. when the tsar visited matviev, natalia, a tall, shapely brunette, herself served him with _vodka_ and _zakuska_. one day the tsar informed matviev that he would find a husband for this charming ward; and, when the nobles were ordered to assemble their daughters, natalia also received a command to attend at the palace. it was all prearranged, but to allay suspicion a second assembly was convened, and a final one after an interval of three weeks. when it became known that natalia had been chosen, there was loud outcry, and anonymous letters reached the tsar. these accused matviev of sorcery and other dark crimes, and alleged misdemeanour on the part of natalia. there was the usual investigation; the customary torture; and postponement of the marriage for nine months. on january the nd the ceremony was performed with great pomp, and matviev that day appointed a member of the state council as recompense "for the sufferings he had undergone in connection with the affair." sixteen months later--may th --peter the great was born. natalia naryshkin was of tartar descent, but her training was western, and as tsaritsa she was able to free some of the "twenty-seven locks" with which the "terem" was guarded. with the accession of [illustration: krutitski vorot] the romanofs there was a strong reaction from the licence of the days of the impostors, a reaction which the all powerful philaret as patriarch did his utmost to foster. natalia was required to conform to the rules made on behalf of former tsaritsas, but she succeeded in going openly to church with her husband, saw plays through a latticed window, and the state reception of foreign ambassadors from a screened _loge_. in so short a time she accomplished much, but in her husband died, and she retired with her children to a palace near the foreign suburb of moscow, and there the young prince, peter, was raised amid rough surroundings, for the matvievs were exiled and natalia barely tolerated so near the kremlin. theodore ii. was most scholarly of the early tsars; he was educated by polish teachers, and, during his short reign the first public schools in moscow were founded under his patronage. he separated the military from the civil departments; in military matters abolished precedence, and so altered legal procedure as to bring justice within reach of the people. he built the episcopal palace of the monastery of st cyril at the krutitski vorot, and was particularly active in adding to the beautiful churches of moscow. to him is due that gem of muscovite ecclesiastical architecture, the church of the nativity and flight, in the mala dmitrovka (_v._ page ). with an eye for the picturesque, he laid out a pleasure-garden in the kremlin and another on the river front by making a vaulted embankment. further away the slopes towards the river were planted with ornamental trees; medicinal herbs were largely cultivated, and the first hot-houses appeared in moscow. private dwellings in the kremlin were demolished to afford accomodation for public buildings, and particularly for homes for the aged and sick, for the tsar resembled his father and grandfather in his care of those who had served him, and in well-doing he was tireless. he disliked pomp and ceremony, restricted the ordinary citizens of noble birth to two horses in their carriages, and reduced the number used by others on state occasions; from his ascent to the throne the court pageantry declined. in the seventeenth century almost the whole of the kremlin was occupied with buildings appertaining either to the state or the superior clergy. the churches are still sufficiently in evidence, but such of the old dwellings as remain have to be approached through more recent buildings. the granovitaia (facetted) palace of ivan iii. ( ) presents a façade to the sobornia ploshchad, but this in no way reveals its antiquity. the constant renewal of the exterior which is indispensable to preservation in the destructive climate of moscow, to some extent accounts for this; and the "terem," the outside of which may be viewed from the quadrangle on which stands the old church "spass na boru," is equally disappointing in this particular. even to see the interiors the visitors must pass through the great palace, with which these old dwellings are now incorporated. the site occupied by the eastern end of the great palace is that upon which, from the founding of moscow, the residences of its rulers have been again and again erected, but they faced the east, not south. the wooden palaces of the early romanofs have entirely disappeared; peter the great removed from moscow whatever would serve to enrich his new capital, and allowed the old royal residences to decay. it is during the present century only that they have been restored to their earlier grandeur. the palace built by the empress elizabeth, and occupied by napoleon, was destroyed by the fire of . the visitor will first procure a _billet d'admission_ at the chamberlain's office in commandant street (see plan), turn to the left on leaving the building, and walking towards the south, at the end of the street pass under the winter garden which connects the treasury with the great palace. he will then be [illustration: kremlin references a=cannon »->entrances -----=footpaths . nicholas gate . redeemer gate . secret gate . borovitski gate . trinity gate . belfry . cathedral of the assumption . " " archangels . " " annunciation . granovitaya palace . grand palace . terem . st saviours in the wood . ch. of the holy vestments . ch. of st saviour behind the golden gates . ch. of the nativity of the virgin . ch. of st lazarus . ch. of the resurrection . ch. of st catherine the martyr . ch. of the apostles . the synod . ch. of john the baptist . ch. of the annunciation . ch. of constantine and helen . chuduv monastery . convent of ascension . pleasure palace . treasury . tsarevich's appartments . place of the boyards . grand entrance . ch. of st alexis . cathedral square . tsar's square . monument to alexander ii. . alarm bell . tsarina's tower . tower of constantine and helen . oubliette . water tower . ch. of st michael . ch. of acsension . ch. of the miracles . hall of catherine ii. . ch. of st catherine . ch. of st peter and paul . ch. of st philip . senate square . state court-yard . arsenal tower] in the state courtyard; on the left a gateway communicates with the quadrangle in which is the old church "spass na boru;" the last door on the right is the public entrance to the treasury. traversing the courtyard and turning to the left he will reach the grand entrance of the great palace and enter there. passing from the vestibule by the _escalier d'honneur_ the hall of st george will be reached. it contains sixteen allegorical groups commemorative of the conquests by russia of perm, kazan, siberia, kamchatka, tartary, the caucasus, etc. the military order of st george was founded by the empress catherine ii. in , but the effigy of st george, on his white horse, slaying the dragon, as already mentioned is of norse origin and was the device used by yaroslaf the great in the eleventh century and definitely adopted as the arms of the principality of moscow by dmitri after his victory over the tartars at kulikova ( ); it figured on the coins, and april (old style) this saint's day, is observed throughout russia. the names inscribed on the wall are those of the individuals admitted to the order, and of the regiments likewise decorated; in short, this hall of st george pobiedonosets (the conqueror) is the russian valhalla. the adjoining hall of alexander nevski, is remarkable apart from its richness and beauty, for the six pictures by müller illustrating the chief events in the life of the saint: beyond is the throne room--griffins, the device of the romanofs, conspicuous in the decorations--and next the hall of st catherine, the state room of the tsaritsa. the older palaces will be reached directly from the hall of st vladimir, or, after passing through the personal apartments of the tsar, by the holy corridor, so named because there the clergy attend to conduct the tsar to state services in the cathedrals. it dates from the reign of ivan iii. ( th cent.) and is, in short, a continuation of that terrace which fronts the eastern side of the great palace, and has its counterpart in the principal approach to every old-fashioned russian house. the krasnoe kriltso--how hateful the vulgar, and absolutely incorrect, translation, "red steps!"--is simply the state entrance to the reception rooms, in contradistinction to the postyelnoe kriltso (back stairs) or private entrance, communicating with the personal apartments of the sovereign, or boyard. to comprehend the importance of the terem rightly, it must be remembered that actually the state apartments of the sovereign were where the great palace now is, and that this corridor served both as a rendezvous for courtiers and the tsar's way of communication from his private to his official suites. another staircase, to which the boyards had not access, led directly from the inner court, near the postyelnoe kriltso, to the terem. the state suite in the seventeenth century comprised: an audience chamber (the middle golden palace); a smaller golden palace, once the audience chamber of the tsaritsa; the stolovia izba, or saloon for fêtes; the krestavia, for the celebration of solemn ceremonies by the clergy and household; the otvietna palace, where illustrious visitors were entertained; and the higher golden palace, a council chamber for the consideration of grave questions of state. for most of these purposes the buildings still in existence have served temporarily at different periods. [illustration: krasnoe kriltso] descending seven steps from this corridor, the palace of the tsaritsa irene, or lesser golden palace, is entered. sneguirev is of opinion that this was originally the apartment of the archbishop. the slavonic inscription over the portal is merely to the effect that the decorations were made by order of tsar alexis mikhailovich, and restored on the coronation of the emperor paul. it was here that in the tsaritsa marie ilyinichna received the tsaritsa of georgia, and later the tsaritsa natalia kyrilevna received the homage of the princes of kasimof and siberia. on the vaulted roof are representations of olga's journey to constantinople, helena obtaining the true cross, the council convened by the emperor theophilus the iconoclast, and portraits of the tsaritsas, irene, theodora, sophia, and olga. a vaulted corridor leads to an entrance from the square behind the uspenski sobor. it is called the "passage of the patriarchs" from the seven portraits of the russian patriarchs which adorn the walls. almost upon a level with the holy corridor is the entrance to the old church of the nativity of the virgin, immediately below which is the chapel of the resurrection of st lazarus (see page ), the oldest existing building in moscow. it is only an obscure crypt, but in one of the round pillars, facing the ikonastas is a niche which probably served as the _loge_ of the reigning prince. the entrance with an old inscription was but recently discovered. the church of the nativity of the virgin, dates from , when the tsaritsa eudoxia, wife of dmitri donskoi, erected the first structure on the side of the older church of st lazarus. it was destroyed by lightning in , burned in , fell in , and in was rebuilt by vasili ivanovich, and probably again reconstructed early in the seventeenth century. it then became one of the churches of the palace, and has remained the particular church of the tsaritsas. the old stoves are of an ancient russian model; according to tradition the tsaritisas in bygone days were placed upon one of these stoves during their confinements. the ikonostas was injured in , but has been restored and some of the ikons are richly decorated with rubies and other gems of great value. above the lesser golden palace is a chapel of small dimensions, known commonly as the "cathedral of our saviour behind the golden gates," actually dedicated to "our saviour on high" (verkhospasski); its other name is due to the fact that the entrance to it is on the far, or private, side of the gilt wicket that barred the entrance to the terem. it was built in by the bajenko ogurtsev, a russian architect employed by the tsar michael, and was restored by his grandson, theodore ii., and many times subsequently. in the seventeenth century it was the private chapel of the sovereigns. in it the sons of alexis were baptised; here it was that in times of danger, as during the revolt of the strelsti (see ch. x. and p. ) the royal princes sought refuge, and from here ivan naryshkin went to his murder by the strelsti who were clamouring for his head. the church is closed by three doors all modelled after the "gilt wicket"; it possesses a magnificent ikonostas of chiselled silver, the gift of the countess soltikov, which marvellously escaped the plunderers of . its ikons include one of the saviour, "not made with hands" (_v._ chapter ix. p. ), said to have been brought to moscow in by sophia paleologus, and one of lupin, the centurion, the patron saint of the romanofs. there is also an old ikonastas in the adjoining chapel of st john the baptist. on the north side of the verkhospasski church, also on this third storey, is the seventeenth century church of the resurrection, on the threshold of which, if tradition may be believed, athanasius naryshkin was struck down by the streltsi in . it is lighter than ordinary russian churches, lofty, with an ogival vaulted roof and almost entirely covered with frescoes. the western door has representations of the eight sybils. the mediæval incense-burner suspended in the centre is of foreign, probably dutch, origin, and apart from its own attractiveness serves well to contrast the great differences in western and russian handicraft, for the ikonostas has some excellent relief work. the paintings at the east-end are on a gold ground, at one period a prevalent fashion with russian ikon painters. the brilliant colouring, the lavish use of gold and silver, and the bright illumination, so unusual in russian churches, together make this royal chapel one of the most interesting of those in the kremlin. it was from the corridor leading to this church that the first "dmitri" is said to have been thrown; the window, which had been blocked up, will be pointed out to the visitor before entering the chapel of the crucifixion, which is over this corridor and on the same level as the fourth storey of the terem. the interior of this chapel is very gloomy; the floor of black and white marble may assist in its recognition. its most interesting feature is the ikonostas of embroidery, the work of the tsaritsas and their daughters. the faces of the saints on the ikons are painted upon canvas, and the vestments instead of metal are of worked silk and other tissues. at the entrance is the private oratory of the tsar alexis, and amongst other things which will be pointed out as having some connection with the younger members of this tsar's family, is the spot upon which he at one time erected a "golgotha"; the cross is of cedar, pine and cypress, contributed by three princes. this church was built in and communicates with the "church of the holy vestments," by the door to the left of the entrance, a piece of work highly characteristic of russian art at this period. there are other churches and chapels which are technically private chapels of the palace, as are also the cathedrals of the assumption and annunciation, but these are dealt with elsewhere. those actually within, or communicating with the terem, are those above enumerated, and in addition there is the old chapel of st john the baptist "in the wood," now removed to the second floor of the tower over the borovitski gate. the palaces and chapels of the terem with their many means of communication afforded a secure hiding place, and means of escape would usually be found by reaching one of the churches with their treasuries and subterranean vaults. in the early times it was a capital offence to be found behind the golden gate, but two chamberlains who accidentally encountered the tsaritsa natalia in one of the corridors were merely dismissed from office for a single day and reinstated; life was more free and easy in the days of theodore than ever before in moscow. the faction intrigues and riots that followed the succession to the throne of his brother ivan and half-brother peter were chiefly the result of the unjust treatment of the streltsi. what took place at the palace is soon stated. matviev had been recalled; the naryshkins and miloslavskis, the relatives of the first and second wives of the late tsar alexis, were opposed to each other; the son of each wife sat on the throne; peter, the younger, had his mother to protect him; ivan, the elder, his sister sophia. it was too good an opportunity for deciding the supremacy of the miloslavskis, and they having caused it to be reported that ivan's life was in jeopardy, the streltsi advanced to the kremlin crying "death to those who oppose royalty! death to all traitors!" before the gates could be closed they were in the kremlin, and with pikes, halberds, and partisans thronging the state entrance and the square of the palace itself. they wished to be sure that both tsars were well: they wanted the lives of the matvievs and naryshkins if ivan was not. matviev momentarily saved the situation. he went with natalia, who led the tsars one by each hand out on to the terrace before the infuriated mob. "by god's mercy both are well as you see," he said, and added words that soothed the mob, but all too soon he retired following natalia into the palace. dolgorooki, the head of the streltsi, then turned to the rioters and ordered them to be gone. he irritated them by his address; some seized him and threw him over the balustrade, and those below caught him on their pikes. another troop, partisans of sophia, were searching for matviev, dragged him from the presence of the ex-tsaritsa and near blagovieshchenski sobor he too was thrown on to the pikes of the streltsi in the square below, and they were not content merely with killing now, but cut his body in morsels. three days later, a faithful black servant ventured forth and collected the remains for burial. the rioters having now committed two crimes reverted to their original determination to settle with those opposed to ivan. they wished particularly for the uncles of peter, ivan and athanasius naryshkin--they mistook soltikov for him, and the man, too frightened even to pronounce his own name, was slain. a dwarf of the tsaritsa's led the rioters to the hiding place of athanasius--the altar of one of the churches, and they killed him where they found him, and threw the body out into the square. the mutiny lasted several days: the streltsi could not find ivan naryshkin or van gaden the doctor. the third day they again went to the palace and demanded that ivan should be given up to them. natalia pleaded for the life of her brother, the boyards fearing for their own lives besought her to give him up, and at last she consented. he made his last confession, and, attended by natalia and sophia, carried the ikon of the virgin before him. hurried by the impatient boyards he courageously left the chapel, and crossing the threshold of the golden gates was at once seized by the streltsi waiting him and dragged to torture and execution, and this satisfied the rioters for the time. richly carved doors, of a type truly muscovite and mediæval, lead from the holy corridor to the larger golden hall of the granovitaia palace. this building is the work of two italians, marco ruffo, and pietro antonio, at the close of the fifteenth century, and has its name of "facetted" palace from the trimming of the stone blocks of the external walls to imitate some earlier ornate wooden building. the large hall is the old throne room of the tsars vasili, ivan "groznoi" and boris godunov. the old custom of a state banquet on the day of the coronation is still observed. on this occasion, as in olden times, the tsar is seated at a table with such other reigning sovereigns as may be present; his near relations are by etiquette still excluded from the room, and view the ceremony from the small window near the ceiling, immediately opposite the "krasnoe ugol" or throne. around the central pillar which supports the vaulted roof, the "mountain" is placed on which the imperial plate is displayed on state occasions, just as it was in the days of herberstein, jenkinson, and the early ambassadors to the muscovite court. here, too, ivan "groznoi" received the khan's emissaries and the rusty knife his victorious enemy had sent him that he might cut his own throat; here for three days he regaled his companions after the fall of kazan: here boris godunov entertained the danish prince, suitor for the hand of the tsarevna xenia; here, in , alexis received the submission of bogdan khmelnitski and the cession of little russia. peter i. also celebrated herein his victory over charles xii. at poltava, and in , catherine ii. confided to the delegates the celebrated "nakaz" for the compilation of the new code of law. its present condition closely resembles its primitive aspect, traces of peter the great's vandalism having been removed; the walls uncovered; the paintings restored; the windows refitted; and older furnishings substituted for the tapestry and decorations of peter and his successors. the paintings, as the inscription states, were made in by two "brothers bieloosov, ikon painters, peasants of the village of palekha." chancellor and his companions when ushered into the golden palace encountered ivan the terrible. "the russian tsar, sitting on a lofty couch, arrayed in robes of silver, and now wearing a different diadem. in the middle of the room stood a huge abacus with a square pedestal, surmounted with a succession of orbicular tiers, which regularly tapered towards the culminating point, and was adorned with such profusion of plate and costly rarities that it was almost overburdened with the great weight of them, and the greater part were of the choicest gold. four vases, conspicuous by their size, served specially to enhance the splendour of the other golden vessels, for they were nearly five feet in height. four tables, placed separately on each side of the hall and raised to the height of three steps above the floor, were bespread with the very finest napery and attended by a numerous company." one thing which surprised chancellor was the great reverence shown the tsar when he spoke, by the whole company "rising simultaneously and bending low their bodies with a sort of gesture of adoration, silently resume their seats." the terem is a building of five storeys, each higher one smaller than any below and the topmost but a single room, with a porch leading to the flat roof from which, before blocked by the great palace, a splendid view was obtainable. the ground floor was built early in the sixteenth century, but serves now for storerooms only, and the one above, reached by a door _under_ the staircase, consists of a private suite formerly the workrooms of the palace and now utilised for the preservation of old charters. the staircase with carved stone steps is separated from the palace by the "gilt-wicket" which formerly divided the private from the state and court rooms of the palace. it is of a quite ordinary design when compared with the much more elaborate wrought metal-work found elsewhere in the palaces and churches of the kremlin. the first room reached was originally the "vestibule," but serves now as a breakfast-room; the cases contain the old seals of the kingdom; the walls and vaulted roof covered with pictures and the stove of fine old glazed russian tiles, a variety of faience the secret of whose manufacture has been lost. near to this room is the council chamber, and, further, what originally served as the private room of the tsars, but was latterly used as a throne room. in the bronze casket is the deed of election which appointed mikhail theodorovich to the throne. in the "krasnoe ugol," or "grand corner," is the seat of the tsar alexis with a carpet before it, the handiwork of his daughters. the window adjoining is that from which dmitri, and other rulers, lowered the basket for the petitions of all and sundry who wished directly to communicate with the tsar. adjoining this room is a bedroom, once occupied by the unfortunate tsarevich alexis petrovich. the oratory has two ikons which formerly belonged to the tsar alexis, as did also the cross. the belvedere reached by either of two separate staircases, was built by the tsar michael for the accommodation of his children, and in later reigns may have been used as a council chamber for the "duma" of the boyards. the tsars alexis and theodore ii. were brought up in the terem; peter the great occupied it only occasionally, chiefly before his travels abroad, and his son alexis was its last regal inmate. "the early romanofs practically shared their rule with the patriarch, and church services and pageants entered largely into their every day life. the tsar would be awakened at about a.m. and at once enter his oratory for private devotion; a quarter of an hour later he prayed before the ikon of the saint whose day it might be, and then sent one of his attendants to inquire as to the health of the tsaritsa and, later, might himself attend her in the vestibule and accompany her to matins in one of the chapels of the palace. boyards and others awaited his return for instructions in matters of state, and at nine o'clock the tsar attended high mass either in one of the churches or cathedrals of the kremlin, or upon _fête_ days wherever the ceremony was necessarily performed. mass [illustration: terem--the throne room] lasted about two hours, and afterwards the sovereign gave private audience to ministers until midday, when he took his first repast, ordinarily frugal to scantiness and eaten alone. during lent the tsar alexis made but three meals each week, and ate fish but twice, on fast days taking only a morsel of black bread and a pickled mushroom; he drank either kvas or small beer: his devotions occupied five hours of each day, and often he prostrated himself more than a thousand times daily. "fast day or not the tsar's table was always well supplied, but of the seventy or more dishes usually served the greater part were presented to his courtiers and officers. after the midday repast, the sovereign invariably retired for a short sleep, arising for vespers at about three o'clock, when he was always attended by the court. occasionally state business was transacted after evening service, but generally the remainder of the day was spent in recreations; theatricals, music and chess were chief among these. court pilgrims were the muscovite equivalent of the wandering minstrels of the british courts. the tsar alexis particularly was interested in the recitals of 'experienced' men who had travelled in distant parts of his kingdom and liked to hear often the recollections of the grey-beards who had known the moscow of the 'troublous times.' if their stories failed, resource was had to a reading of the chronicles, ecclesiastical and profane. the pensioners were housed in the kremlin near the royal palace, and were under the immediate protection of the tsar, who himself not frequently followed some centenarian to the specially appointed burial place in the bogo-yavlenni monastyr. "the tsaritsas for the most part occupied themselves with their own devotions and the direction of the work rooms of the palace; very occasionally with their children they accompanied the tsar to the krasnoe kriltso to be 'beholden of the people.' sometimes they witnessed state ceremonies from a secluded corner of the throne room, and in the evening witnessed the amusements in the potieshni dvorets; were diverted by the tricks of mountebanks and jugglers; listened to songs, or watched the special dancers engaged for their amusement. their journeys abroad were restricted to visiting the convents and churches, pilgrimages to the troitsa monastery, or the season's change to a suburban palace. although they attended high mass in the cathedrals, they were seldom seen by the public, being always surrounded by a guard of chamber-women who carried _ecrans_ and, arranging themselves before the tsaritsa, screened her from the eyes of the curious. doubtless the strict etiquette was departed from in the semi-state of the summer palaces at kolomenskoe and preobrajenskoe, and certainly the tsaritsa natalia failed in various ways to observe the strict seclusion of the terem. a state procession in the days of alexis was a wonderful pageant: on his visit to the novo devichi convent he was preceded by horsemen, three abreast, all dressed in cloth of gold. grooms led the twenty-five white stallions harnessed to a coach draped with scarlet and gold: a guard of honour surrounded it; the tsar followed in a smaller coach drawn by six white horses; boyards in state robes were his escort. petitioners thronged the procession and their written requests were deposited in a special box carried behind the tsar. the tsarevich, with a long cortege, followed. the tsaritsa was preceded by forty grooms with magnificent steeds, and her own coach drawn by ten white horses, and behind her the tsarevna in a similar carriage drawn by eight horses. the waiting-women, to the number of twenty or more, rode astride white horses; they wore scarlet robes, white hats with yellow ribbons and long feathers; white veils hid part of their faces; top boots of bright yellow completed their costume. the guard consisted of of the streltsi with their showiest weapons, and behind them came pensioners, boyards and officers of the court."--_zabielin._ the young prince peter had a small state coach to himself; it was drawn by small white ponies, and he had as a special retinue a number of dwarfs. in the golden age of the three romanofs moscow thrived as never before and became beautiful beyond other cities. alexis busied himself in erecting new and better buildings where fire destroyed the old, and his example was followed by the boyards, who commenced of their own accord to build churches or to enrich those existing, and were even so western and modern as to present bells. it was under theodore that moscow attained its zenith and became known as the city of churches--"forty-forties" their number, the russian equivalent of "seventy times seven," derived from "sorokov," an ecclesiastical division, and also a "great gross"; the number actually in existence within the town limit is said to have been . there were twenty-seven "halls" within the kremlin palaces; some twelve new courts of justice in the town; and eight royal residences in the suburbs. the boyard dmitri kaloshinim built a great church on the devichi pol-ye, and in addition to the academy in the za-ikono-spasski monastyr other schools were founded. the handicrafts of the west were generally practised, and many new trades learned and mastered, some foreigners being employed in moscow in the manufacturing industries and the instruction of the citizens. it was at this period that most of the beautiful glass, faience and metal work that enriches the sacristies was produced, and then that the finest ecclesiastical buildings were erected. some of the choicest antiquities of the treasury (orujen-ia palata) date from this period. the boyards during the siege of the poles and themselves in the kremlin turned much of the old plate stored there into money; the specimens of earlier date had been hidden away, or were in the treasures of churches outside the kremlin. among the most interesting antiquities here are:-- _in the entrance hall._--the old bell of the guardians of novgorod, recast in ; the alarm bell of the city of moscow, recast in from the old bell of the town; two plates recording the execution of the streltsi. the staircase has old german suits of mail, some trophies and two pictures, one representing the battle of dmitri donskoi against the tartars at kulikovo, and the other the baptism of vladimir the great. _room : armoury._--russian armour of the seventeenth century, notably a mounted model of the voievode of the period; on the left of the entrance a russian soldier of the same, also the helmet of the hero mstislavski, and the helmet of the tsar mikhail theodorovich. _room : weapons._--chiefly fire-arms used in russia from the fifteenth to the eighteenth century arranged chronologically, of which those in cases xviii and xix are the most interesting; in the cases xvi and xviii will be found the weapons of foreign manufacture, among them the sporting gun presented to the tsar mikhail in by fabian smith; against the wall are the guns the monks of st sergius used to defend the monastery at troitsa against the poles in ; below these the saddle of prince pojarski. among the standards around the pillars are the sacred colours carried by dmitri at kulikovo, of ivan the terrible against kazan (no ), of alexis mikhailovich against the poles (no ), of the streltsi, of peter the great's first regiment of marines (no ), and the lion and unicorn with which yermak conquered siberia. the helmets of kosma minin, prince pojarski, of nikita romanof, yaroslaf ii., and alexander nevski. _room : trophies._--modern. _room : regalia._--the twelfth century crown of vladimir monomachus; the sixteenth century crown of the tsars of kazan; that of ivan alexievich ( ) and of mikhail theodorovich, the imperial crown, that of georgia, globes, sceptres--note particularly the beautiful workmanship from the conquered kingdom of georgia--and the orb reputed to have been presented by basil and constantine in , together with the golden chain collar and piece of the "true cross." among these insignia, most curious are the barmi, metal collars worn at the coronation, of which one of the earliest has the eagle, lion, griffin, and unicorn--byzantine symbols--and excellent coloured enamel, but said to have been remade by a moscow goldsmith in the sixteenth century. the thrones include that of ivory brought to russia in by sophia paleologus; persian throne sent to boris godunov, in , it is studded with more than gems; the double throne of the tsars ivan and peter was made at hamburg and is so constructed that the curtain at the back might screen the tsarevna sophia who used to station herself there either to watch or prompt her young brothers. in a casket is the code of the tsar alexis on sheets of parchment. _room : plate._--to the left on entering are the enamel ware, metal, wood, ivory, and glass, household plate of russian manufacture in the seventeenth century of which the best are those of coloured enamel and niello. the loving cup presented by the patriarch nikon to the tsar alexis; a ring of the unfortunate eudoxia (wife of peter i.) and a number of more or less uninteresting objects of that monarch's period; and a fine numismatic collection that will attract the enthusiast. _ground floor: carriages and harness._--the state chariot sent to boris godunov by queen elizabeth, carriages with mica windows, closed carriages of the tsaritsas, the miniature conveyance of the young prince peter, some relics of napoleon; portraits of the sovereigns of russia, and the model of the palace with which catherine ii. intended to cover the kremlin; of the old palace at kolomenskoe. there also is the only portrait of maria mniszek, and a picture representing her marriage with the false dmitri. golden moscow extended far beyond the kremlin; one of its most characteristic corners is the vosskresenski vorot, where stands the little chapel sacred to the iberian mother of god, the exact copy of a most venerable ikon, brought in from mount athos, for which this chapel was erected by the tsar alexis. the picture shows a scratch on the right cheek, the work of an infidel, who was converted by seeing the blood that instantly exuded from the wound. the adornments are a brilliant crown, with a veil of pearls, a large gem on the brow, another on the shoulder; gold brocade with enamelled plaques representing angels' heads, and the usual lavish decoration of the vestments, complete this unusual ikon, which is probably the most venerated of any in moscow. the chapel is exceedingly rich and always surrounded by worshippers; thirteen silver chandeliers with tapers are always burning before the ikonostas, and to this day the tsar on visiting moscow dismounts at this chapel before entering the kremlin. the architecture of the wall and gate is a modification of the russian style of the th century as influenced by the purely utilitarian or military style of podolia and north-east germany, but the spires that crown the old square towers are of a later date and are probably due to the love of the tsar alexis for the gothic which he tried in vain to blend with the heavy low wooden models of early russia. the buildings of this period are mostly characterised by the quaint mixture of lombard and gothic, but there is one fragment, the ruins of the archiepiscopal palace at the krutitski, which exhibits the more ornate style then considerably followed for "halls," in which the influence of byzantium predominates. the krutitski monastery was first established within the kremlin, but many centuries ago was transferred to the suburbs near the krasnoe kholmski bridge, where the remains of the seventeenth century "dwelling" of the metropolitan may now be seen serving as the gateway to the entrance of a barracks. it is fronted with glazed tiles of many colours, yellow and green are the most conspicuous, and of many shapes. the window casements are purely byzantine, but the vaulted archways and the roof are as markedly russian. only its outer side has been left in its original state, with the quaint designs, particularly that of the "busy bee," glaring from the gaudy tiles; the other side, that within the courtyard, is now covered with the usual distemper (_v._ p. ). doubtless much of the fine work on other buildings that have survived the fires of the past two centuries is similarly hidden beneath plaster and many coatings of thick body colour, but it is unlikely that it will be discovered until the old buildings themselves are in course of demolition, so this one perfect example, which is but little known and seldom visited, may be regarded as the sole existing memorial of that school of greeks and byzantines which so powerfully influenced muscovite construction during the reigns of alexis and theodore ii. the literary culture was derived from poland, and is not remarkable for strength or beauty: slavinietski confined himself to dogma; the many-sided polotsi, artist, administrator, pedagogue and poet, wrote several volumes, and helped in the adaptation of old-world stories for dramatic representation. in addition to several plays such as "the prodigal son," "shadrach, meshach and abednego" and "esther," which [illustration: vosskresenski vorot and iberian chapel] were performed within the walls of the uspenski cathedral, profane history afforded such themes as the "siege of troy" and "alexander the great" for the amusement of the court in the private hall. native themes were not so general: "the judgment of chemiaki" was one; such plays as the "good genius," "the mirror of justice," appear to have been derived from the arabs, and it is said that many themes from the hindu "panchatantra" were also utilised. prince galitzin spoke latin as fluently as a german professor; the tsarevna sophia was his equal in that tongue; and the princess, so far from being satisfied with the routine of the terem, amused herself in writing a tragedy and a comedy in verse, both of which were performed in moscow. there seems to be no doubt that great liberty was accorded her; but she, unfortunate in the choice of her advisers, became ambitious, and herself was the principal figure in one of the greatest of the real dramas moscow has furnished. the "tranquil" tsar, as alexis became to be called, amassed great wealth and amused himself in building a fleet for the caspian sea, which the water-brigand, stenki razin, the pirate of the volga, promptly destroyed; and then alexis, like peter, played with toy boats on the ornamental lake he had made in the kremlin. to him, much more truly than to peter, do karamzin's lines apply:-- "russia had a noble tsar, sovereign honoured wide and far: he a father's love enjoyed, he a father's power employed, and sought his children's bliss and their happiness was his." he constructed much of the old moscow still visible; not a church or a monastery of earlier date but he rebuilt, extended, or improved. outside the kremlin, throughout the different zones of the town, beyond the last ramparts far away into the forests that skirted the suburbs, the marks of his work, churches, palaces and halls, testify to the immensity and riches of this moscow of the tsars; wherever one may go in or about the moscow of to-day, that of the seventeenth century cannot be wholly escaped. chapter viii _the kremlin_ "the kremlin is our sanctuary and our fortress; the source of our strength and the treasury of our holy faith." viazemski. russians very rightly regard the kremlin as their holy of holies. all that moscow is to russia, the kremlin is to moscow. nowhere else are so many and diverse relics grouped in so small a space; no place of its size is so rich in historical associations. it contains what is best worth seeing in russia, it is what is best worth knowing. the people know this; know that--as their poet medich tersely expresses its value--"here it is that the great russian eagle raised its eyrie and spread its immense protecting wings over an enormous empire." to the antiquary, of beauty, to the tourist in search of distraction, the kremlin is equally attractive. to see it to best advantage, all who visit moscow for the first time should make the tour outside the walls before entering by any one of its five practicable gates; or, if the complete circuit--some two miles--cannot conveniently be made then, instead of entering by the nearest gate from the kitai gorod, let the hurried visitor at least drive across the moskvoretski bridge, along the quay on the south side of the river, and, returning by the kammeny most, make an entrance by either the borovitski or the troitski gate. the exact position of the wall of white stone, built in the reign of dmitri donskoi ( ), is unknown; in all probability it was within the space at present enclosed. the wall of burnt tiles, erected during the reign of ivan iii., was the work of aleviso fioraventi, an italian architect; but a few years later, between and , the present wall was raised on the foundations of the old one, in part by italian workmen, in part by native artisans. this wall, repaired from time to time, has escaped all the fires and disasters which wrought such havoc elsewhere in the kremlin; but in its original state consisted of three distinct parapets, set back and rising above each other over the ditch, much as the tiers of the old towers still remaining. the wall, the inmost of the three, is of an exaggerated italian style, the battlements unnecessarily deep. the towers and gates are various: some as the spasski and troitski, gothic; some as the borovitski and the gun towers, russian; others bastard and nondescript. the borovitski, tainitski, and the similar smaller square pyramidal towers, are clearly copies of the older wooden erections on the earlier walls. the design is that of carpenters, not of masons. the green tiles are the original covering; the secret of making them has been lost. for centuries the wall was painted white, the present brick colour is an innovation. [illustration: kremlin--rampart and gun tower] an early writer states that "the wall is two miles about, and it hath sixteen gates and as many bulwarks." it is better to be precise. the length of the wall is mile yards, and it follows exactly the contour and windings of the hill, forming an irregular triangle; the thickness varies from to feet, the height from to feet. throughout the entire length there is a rampart feet wide and a low parapet on the inner side. this walk is paved with stone flags, and is reached from any of the towers and by special stairways within the wall. the borovitski gate, surmounted by a tower feet high (see page ), preserves the name of the forest (bor), with which the hill was long ago covered, its official name is the prechistenka gate; here all that remains of the old church of the nativity of st john the baptist is conserved in the chapel on the right of the gate in entering. in the second storey is the royal chapel of st john, one of the ten churches of the palace; in it a service is held once a year, to which worshippers are summoned by ringing the bells on the third storey of the tower. by this gate the tsars left the kremlin on other than state occasions, by it napoleon's troops entered. turning towards the river, the round tower at the corner of the wall was used at one time as a water reservoir for the palace gardens. peter the great had need of all the lead he possessed when building his new capital on the neva, and the tower was then dismantled. it suffered from the mines exploded by the french in ; in it was used to store certain valuables removed from st petersburg. the first tower eastward from the "chateau d'eau" is the old granary, "jitny dvor," now used by the priest of the adjoining church of the annunciation. according to the legend on the wall at this point a vision of the annunciation was seen; to commemorate which this church was built. the next tower is over the tainitski or "secret" gate, a postern leading to the river, now practicable for pedestrians only. on this spot there has been a gate ever since the kremlin was first enclosed; it was at one time used for the procession of january , on its way to the river, but "the blessing of the water" is now performed from the new cathedral of our saviour. the wall then runs eastward as far as the round tower near the moskvoretski bridge, then turns north as far as the spasski gate. the corner comprised within this length of the wall and a straight line from the tainitski to the spasski gate is full of story. the first two towers have now no name; the next is that of the metropolitan peter; after the corner tower, the first is that of constantine and helen, the next the tsarina's tower, then comes the small open tower in the wall itself and quite close to the spasski tower. it was at this corner, at first within the kremlin itself, later outside on the grand place that the public executions took place. the wall here has prison cells within its vaulted arches, dungeons are beneath the towers, the corner tower once an oubliette, is still supposed to have the remains of the iron blades and spikes, upon which the prisoners fell, projecting from its walls; in the tower of constantine and helen were the instruments of torture used to extort confessions, and the church of the same name is that to which the accused were taken to make their oath before being led to the rack or cast into some secret dungeon. the tsarina's tower, now a dwelling and storehouse, has no pleasant history; the small tower in which once hung the great bell brought from novgorod is popularly believed to have been constructed by ivan groznoi to afford him a better view of the executions, but, if authorities may be believed, on such occasions he more often figured as an actor than an onlooker. however this may be, it is undoubtedly the truth that of this portion of the kremlin much that is interesting will some day be written. sneguirev and other writers are content to describe it in very general terms; fabricius, who for eight years was employed in the kremlin and knows it more thoroughly than most men, in his monumental work on the kremlin, scamps this section, although giving minute details respecting other towers and portions of the wall. it is not accessible to the public, and special permission from the commandant of the fortress is now required before admission is given to the rampart walk. the spasski (redeemer) gate, constructed in the reign of ivan iii. ( ), by peter antonio solarius of milan, was at first known as the florovski gate from a church dedicated to st florus in its vicinity. it bears the following inscription:-- "johannes vassilii dei gratia magnus dux volodomiræ, moscoviæ. novoguardiæ, iferiæ, plescoviæ, veticiæ, ougariæ, permiæ, volgariæ et aliarum totiusque roxiæ dominus: anno imperii sui has turres condere jussit, et statuit petrus solarius mediolanensis, anno nativitatis domini ." when the church of the holy trinity was built this gate took the name of the "jerusalem gate," because the palm sunday procession passed beneath it. in during the reign of the tsar mikhail theodorovich, christopher galloway, an english clockmaker, constructed the spire and placed therein a striking clock, which, however, was subsequently removed. after various changes, in the tsarina elizabeth petrovna caused the one now in use to be placed there. the building itself is formed of thick double walls, between which are passages and staircases of wood and stone; brick buttresses connect the walls and support the upper storeys. the second is the clock tower; the third of octagonal form, has eight arches on which the spire is carried. over the entrance is the miraculous ikon of the redeemer, brought back from smolensk by the tsar alexis in . it is to this picture that the orthodox attribute the raising of the siege of moscow by the tartars under makhmet-ghiree in ; it is still held in great veneration, and it is customary for all to uncover whilst passing through the gate. formerly an omission to do so was punished with two score and half compulsory prostrations. the redeemer gate is the state entrance to the kremlin; by it the tsars entered and left on all important occasions. ivan iii. passed through after quelling the revolt at nijni novgorod; ivan "groznoi" after taking kazan; vasili shooiski after the delivery of moscow from the poles; here the people went to meet the young tsar michael romanof after his election. the remains of shooiski were brought through this gate, and by it passed the funeral processions of the tsars peter ii., alexander i. and alexander ii. since the eighteenth century the tsars have made their state entry to the kremlin for the coronation by the redeemer gate. criminals executed near the lobnoe mesto addressed their last prayers to the ikon above its portal; near it the "hundreds" of streltsi were executed by order of peter the great, and in his reign the heterodox who refused to shave their heads paid a fine on passing it. the french tried to blow up the gate with gunpowder, but it was saved by the timely intervention of the cossacks. the nikolski gate on the north-east was also built by peter solarius, but has been several times restored, having suffered by fire and from other disasters. tokhtamysh entered the kremlin by this gate; so did the troops of sigismund iii., and it was here that edigei most strongly assaulted the kremlin, here that the krim-tartars ineffectually tried to gain an entrance in , and here that the battle raged between the poles and russians for the possession of moscow. like the spasski gate it also has its miraculous ikon. it is a mosaic of st nicholas of mojaisk. "the dread of perjurers and the comfort of those in pain," before it litigants made their solemn oaths preliminary to the hearing of the cause. the inscription upon it records how, when the french attempted to blow it up, the ikon escaped destruction. "in the year , during the time of the invasion by the enemy almost the whole of this strong tower was demolished by the explosion of a mine; but, by the wonderful power of god, the holy image of the greatly favoured by god, here designed, and, not only the image, but the pane of glass covering it, as also the lantern with the candle, remained uninjured. "who is greater than god, our god? thou art the god, the marvellous god, who doest miracles by thy saints." this gate is the most generally used entrance to the kremlin, and in the tower above the law archives of the town are now stored. northward from the nikolski gate there is an abrupt descent to the corner tower--which is polygonal, not round like the others--for here is the old bed of the river neglinnaia. formerly the stream was dammed up near its junction with the moskva so as to constitute an impassable moat, and thus protect the western side of the kremlin. nevertheless the wall is continued at the same height for its whole length. the arsenal, a commonplace building, extends from the corner tower to the troitski gate, the monotony of its dreary line broken by two characteristic gun-towers on the wall. in the alexander gardens, outside the kremlin, arches and rough masonry may be seen, and possibly mistaken for a part of the foundations of the kremlin wall; they are only decorations dating from the exhibition held there in . the troitski (trinity) gate was constructed to give access to the palaces in the kremlin from the suburb on the other side of the neglinnaia, in the seventeenth century occupied almost entirely by court servants and artisans. towards the close of the eighteenth century this quarter was a slum, the chief haunt of the robbers and desperadoes of moscow; thence came the men who fired the city during the french occupation. the tower over the gate, in the gothic style, was added by galloway early in the seventeenth century and has been twice restored; the rooms in it are now used by the staff in charge of the old archives stored in the various towers of the kremlin. the bridge is protected by a barbican, the kutaïfa, a large white tower of original design, the work of italians, about , battlemented and once furnished with gates and portcullis. the french entered and left the kremlin by this route. it is the only gate in the kremlin without a chapel, the church of the trinity once adjoining having been demolished. [illustration: belvedere of pleasure palace] about midway along the wall between the troitski and borovitski gates appear the bright-coloured roofs and gables of an old russian house, the potieshni dvorets, whose striking architecture, together with that of the characteristic smaller towers on the walls, relieves the ugliness of the service buildings on the left and the heavy façade of the treasury building on the right. this side of the kremlin should be seen from the far side of the gardens, or from the street beyond. the best view of the kremlin is that seen from the south end of the moskvoretski bridge (see page .) the balconies of the hotel kokoref command the same view, one which reveals at a glance more that is characteristic of moscow than even the bird's-eye view from the dome of ivan veliki. in the foreground the river and quays; beyond, the walls of the kremlin with towers in all styles; the fantastic pinnacles of vasili blajenni; the blunted spires of the vossnesenski convent, behind which rise the gilded domes of the chudov church and the great cupola of the hall of st catherine in the senate. beyond the striking alexander memorial rises the belfry of ivan veliki, and around it cluster the gilded and gay-coloured domes of the cathedrals, then, further to the left, the long façade of the palace, the pyramidal tower of the borovitski gate, and, apparently near by, the huge golden dome of the new cathedral. (see page .) entering the kremlin by the nikolski gate, to the right is the arsenal, to the left the senate (law courts), reaching the transverse route from the troitski gate, the barracks are in front, the buildings of the service corps to the right, the chudov monastery to the left; continuing straight on, a large open space is reached; then on the left is the smaller palace, on the far side of the square is the alexander memorial; close by, on the right, the synod, then, railed off, the sobornia ploshchad with the cathedrals and beyond them the grand palace. in the centre rises ivan veliki tower which serves as belfry for all the cathedrals. the cathedrals are, for the most part, described in detail in "moscow of the ecclesiastics"; the palaces in the chapter on "moscow of the tsars," and the chudov and vossnesenski monasteries in chapter xii.; here the other buildings and sights of the kremlin may be mentioned. first and foremost to treat of ivan veliki; of moscow and its bells. according to tradition the tall bell tower has a very ancient origin but as a matter of fact it was constructed at the close of the sixteenth century to find employment for a starving population. its foundations are on a level with the river bed, feet below the surface; its height above is feet, built in five storeys, the first four octagonal, the topmost cylindrical. in the eighteenth century it was considered one of the wonders of the world, and to this day the orthodox invariably cross themselves when passing it. dedicated to st john and containing in the basement a chapel to the same saint, it is supposed to owe its name to this, but tradition states that it was constructed by one john (ivan) viliers whose patronymic has been corrupted into veliki--that is, "great" or "big." there are steps to the gallery under the cupola, whereon is an inscription of which the following is a translation:-- "under the protection of the holy trinity and by order of the tsar and grand duke boris theodorovich autocrat of all the russias, and of his son the tsarevich and grand duke theodore borisovich, this church has been completed and gold-crowned the second year of their reign. a.m. ."[a] [a] date erroneous: built - a.d. adjoining ivan veliki is another tower, that of the assumption, in which are hung the larger bells, and still further to the north a third belfry with a pyramidal spire, known as the tower of philaret. the chapel of st john is on, or near, the spot occupied by a small wood church first erected in ; it contains several ikons of interest. on the first storey under the dome of the assumption tower is a chapel dedicated to st nicholas, replacing a fourteenth-century church in the kremlin. it is specially visited by the orthodox about to marry, and contains some ikons removed from the church of st nicholas of galstun, demolished during the reign of alexander i. ( ). a deacon of the old church, ivan theodorof, introduced printing into russia, and in produced a book of hours on moscow. hence, the book depôt lodged in the tower. very characteristic of moscow are these three towers, of different styles of architecture, massed to form one building; that the three should all be white is a pleasing convention which has long endured. it is needless to state that there is an excellent view from the upper storeys, one well worth the toilsome ascent. moreover the bells are interesting; though some visitors are content with an examination of the great bell of moscow which, broken and flawed, stands upon a pedestal at the foot of the ivan veliki tower. the art of bell-founding first practised at nola in campania in the ninth century, has been known in russia since the fourteenth; in a bell of about tons was cast in moscow and hung in a wooden tower. since that date many large bells have been cast and recast. the largest, the tsar kolokol, the "great bell of moscow," is supposed to have been first cast in the sixteenth century, probably during the reign of boris godunov; in a traveller states that in moscow is a bell whose clapper is rung by two dozen men; in , a fire in the kremlin caused the bell to fall and it was broken. in it was recast and then weighed some tons; it was feet thick and its circumference over feet. it was suspended at the foot of the tower, and the wooden beam supporting it being burned by the fire of it once more fell to the ground and broke. it was recast by order of the empress anne in , but it is doubtful whether it was hung. from to it lay beneath the surface. by the order of the tsar nicholas, de ferrand raised it from the pit and mounted it on the pedestal it now occupies. it is feet thick, feet high ( feet, inches with ball and cross) feet in girth, and weighs tons. the fragment is feet high and weighs tons. the figures represent the tsar alexis and the empress anne. it bears a long inscription:-- "alexis michaelovich of happy memory, autocrat of great and small russia and of white russia, gave the order that for the cathedral of the pure and glorious assumption of the holy virgin, a bell should be cast with poods of copper, in the year of the world and of the birth of jesus christ our saviour, . this bell was used in the year (a.d. ), and served until the year of the creation and of jesus christ ; in which last year on the june it was broken in a great fire that destroyed the kremlin: it was mute until the year of the creation ... and of our lord.... by the command of the majestic empress-autocrat anna ivanovna, for the glory of god, of the holy trinity, and in honour of the holy virgin, in the cathedral of her glorious assumption, they melted the metal of the old bell of poods, damaged by the fire and added thereto poods of new metal, the year of the world and of the birth of our saviour , and the fourth of the glorious reign of her majesty." "thirty-four bells hang in these three towers; the largest is the "big bell" of the uspenski sobor, which is in the middle tower and on the lowest tier. it was cast in by bogdanof, to replace the bell broken when the tower was wrecked by the mine exploded beneath it in . a bell of tons is the largest in the tower of ivan, which, originally founded in by afanasief, has been subsequently recast; the next storey has three old bells and amongst those of the highest storey are two "silver" bells. the oldest here dates from ; other old bells, russian, dutch, and others, are hung in the belfry of spass na boru, in that of st michael in the courtyard of the chudov monastery, and in the belfry of the vossnesenski convent. russian bells are not swung, but are sounded by moving the clapper, to the tongue of which the bell rope is attached; the clapper of the "kolokol" is feet in length and feet in circumference. the famous bells of moscow are:-- "the tsar kolokol, tons; assumption or 'big bell'--in use-- tons; the thunderer (reut), tons, cast by chokov in , it also fell in but was not broken; the every day (vsednievni), tons, cast in ; the seven-hundredth (semisotni), tons; bear (medvied), tons; swan (lebeda), tons; novgorodsk, tons; the 'wide' bell (shirokoi), ½ tons; slobodski, ½ tons; rostovski, tons." the casting of the great bells was made a state function as well as a church ceremony; as late as the nineteenth century, the old form of blessing the bell was followed in the case of the big bell, which is described at length by dr lyall who was present:-- "on the th march , the archbishop augustine went into the cavity in which the metal was to be run, and sprinkled the place with holy water, as also the metals to be used in founding the bell; gave his benediction to the masters of the foundry, and called the workmen to receive his blessing and kiss the cross. the molten metal ran by a gutter into the mould; and, the casting finished, the archbishop again gave thanks to god. the leading inhabitants were present at the casting, and freely threw in gold and silver trinkets. on the rd february this bell was removed from the foundry. it was placed on an oak sledge, and after the te deum had been sung, a willing crowd seized the many ropes attached and drew the sledge down the srietenka and lubianka to the kusnetski most, mokhovaya, and the whole length of the kremlin wall to the borovitski gate by which it made its entrance, and reached the belfry of ivan veliki, where the te deum was sung again. it was hung in the summer of ." closely allied to the art of the bell-maker was that of cannon-founder, and the kremlin contains some curious and excellent specimens of old weapons. the most striking is the huge gun known as the tsar pushka, "king of guns," familiarly as the "drobovnik" (fowling piece), which was cast in the reign of theodore ivanovich ( ), by one chokof. it weighs tons, and is of too large calibre and too weak metal ever to have been used as a weapon. when peter i. after the battle of narva, ordered old cannon and church bells to be cast into new ordnance, this was spared. so was the mortar by its side, for it was cast by the false dmitri, who not only took a great interest in the manufacture of fire arms, but tested them himself. among the cannon arranged along the barrack terrace is "the unicorn" cast in ; the carriage of this, of the tsar pushka, and of others are new, made by baird, of st petersburg. along the front of the arsenal are arranged the cannon, french, taken from "the twenty nations" who invaded russia with napoleon. it has already been stated that the kremlin was at one time a complete city; to a certain extent it is so still. again and again buildings have been destroyed and restored; streets made, and swept away. in sinking the foundations for the alexander memorial the debris of three distinct ruins superimposed showed how one town has succeeded another, and as at that point, so at many others. the exercising ground was long covered with dwellings; there were the hostelries of the krutitski monastery, the houses of the priests, seminaries, private dwellings--at one time as many as twenty streets were to be found within the kremlin walls. under the barracks and the chudov monastery are immense vaults of ancient brick; below the synod are known to be two large chambers which have not [illustration: church of our saviour behind the golden gates] been examined, and, in the very centre of the kremlin, between the tsar pushka and the chudov monastery, but three feet beneath the pavement, is the basement of an old edifice, vaults of white stone, probably the remains of the palace of the tsar boris godunov. the smaller palace is built upon the side of an early cemetery; at one time in the open space near ivan veliki criminals were publicly executed and the _ukases_ of the tsar proclaimed. in the same way that the kremlin is honeycombed with vaults for the storage of great quantities of food and munitions of war, it is penetrated by different conduits for the water drawn from the bed of the neighbouring stream; a supply so plentiful and constant that the tsar alexis used it to flow through great lead bottomed tanks and ornamental lakes, whereon, like later tsars, he amused himself with a toy fleet. the railed in sobornia ploshchad has been from time immemorial the grand enclosure. here the religious processions formed, and form; here dmitri ivanovich unfurled the black standard before going out to give battle to mamai; here most tsars have passed to their coronation, or have walked with their brides to the altar for the wedding sacrament; across it the princes and tsars of moscow have been carried to their last resting place. outside that door crouched the excommunicated ivan groznoi, from this the frenzied people dragged their priest, towards that the threatened metropolitan bravely made his way to officiate at a forbidden mass. before the grand entrance (krasnoe kriltso) foreign ambassadors drew up in pomp to make their calls of state, on that same terrace ivan with his staff transfixed the foot of the brave messenger of the not less bold kourbski, there, too, he gazed at the comet supposed to foretell his death. to this place the basket for the petitions of the people was daily lowered from the tsar's palace window; on this spot fell the body of the murdered false dmitri. here at different times have gathered tartar envoys, merchant venturers, turbulent streltsi; the famished, the terrified and the pestilent stricken; polish soldiers, french grenadiers, foreign fightingmen as a bodyguard, the dreaded "opritchniki"; bountiful boyards, napoleon's riff-raff; humble russians to petition, pious ones to pray, grateful ones to return thanks. the imaginative visitor may conjure up amidst the buildings whatever scene he will from the history of moscow and find adequate setting. may picture state pageantry; church ceremonial; military display; the expression of perfervid piety; the ruin following fearful disaster--whether wrought by the hand of man or the act of god. such scenes that the walls will seem to echo in turn the laughter of homely merry-making, the huzzahs of victory, the wails of the afflicted, the uproar of the turbulent, the sighs of the worshipper--for here every emotion has been many times expressed by the varying multitudes that have thronged these courts. entering by the tower of philaret, the church of the twelve apostles is on the extreme right, the cathedral of the assumption immediately in front, that of the archangels on the left, opposite it is the cathedral of the annunciation communicating with the royal palaces by a terrace from which descends the wide flight of steps which as their name, krasnoe kriltso, indicates is the grand or state entrance to the palace. it was on this terrace that the tsars of old allowed the people to see "the light of their eyes," and there that those of noble race stood to be "beholden of the people." at one time this flight had the usual porch at the foot, and a red roof above, just as the approaches to the old churches and the modern house, dom chukina off the tverskaia. fires have destroyed the roofs and now an awning only is used upon state occasions. these steps flank the old granovitaia palace and on its other side, in an obscure corner, almost behind the cathedral of the assumption, is the holy spot of the kremlin, being to the church what the krasnoe kriltso was to the state. it is the old entrance to the private apartments of the patriarchs, and the chapel of the metropolitans, that known as the pecherski bogeimateri, raised on the site of the earliest stone edifice built in the kremlin. founded by jonas it suffered the fate of most buildings in moscow, but was always rebuilt in much the same style, and still conserves many characteristics of the most ancient of moscow churches. the present building is composed of the fragments left from the fires of , , and . the roof is vaulted, supported by four columns; the walls have pictures of the virgin and saints, and above the altar is that of the madonna. the ikonostas has four stages and is adorned with most venerable ikons, notably those of "the reception of the sacred vestments of the virgin" of the virgin of vladimir (an early copy), and of the holy trinity, before which are ancient candelabra with the remains of tapers made like the old rushlights and gaily coloured. the inscription is to the effect that they were placed there by the patriarch joseph in and . the old chandelier in the centre is by sviechkov, a master craftsman of the tsarian workshops in . the virgin of pechersk, brought from kiev, is hung upon the wall and surrounded with portraits of peter, alexis, jonas, philip, and other of the patron saints of moscow: before this ikon all must bow or suffer eternal punishment. the church is never closed; day and night it is visited by pious pilgrims and the sacred lamp is ever burning before the ikon. it communicates with the corridor of the terem, and behind it rise the domes of the churches within the palace, notably those of the saviour behind the golden gates and st catherine's: near them the roof of the terem and the walls of the granovitaia palace complete a picture wholly muscovite; but, if tradition may be trusted, the work upon the most picturesque portion, st catherine's, is due to an englishman, one john taylor, in the service of the tsars. on palm sundays there used to form in the little square before the porch the head of that procession in which the tsar led the patriarch, seated upon an ass, by the redeemer gate to the lobnoe mesto. peter the great turned the procession to mere burlesque, mounting the patriarch upon an ox and himself playing the buffoon. here, too, were the miracle plays and church mysteries performed in the seventeenth century, and here the church processions still form for the more stately pageants of to-day. the only old private dwelling remaining within the kremlin is that now known as the potieshni dvorets, or "palace of amusements," which was originally the house of the boyards miloslavski and was acquired by the crown after the marriage of the tsar alexis with maria miloslavski. the interior has now nothing of particular interest, but the exterior is an excellent example of russian architecture as modified by mid-european influence in the late seventeenth century. part of the third and fourth storeys instead of retreating, in the russian style, is made to project, but the "belvedere," with a balcony all round, is retained for the top storey; retained, too, are the bulbous pillars which serve as, or decorate the side posts of doors and windows, and the long pendant keystones to form the double-arch instead of a lintel; all of which are peculiar to russian architecture. [illustration: potieshni dvorets (pleasure palace)] several explanations for the common use of the ogival arch, the bulbous dome, and the double arch with hanging keystones, have been advanced by antiquaries, but none are altogether satisfactory. the errors have possibly resulted from studying masonry to the exclusion of carpentry, and the early slavs were users of wood--not of stone or brick. it may be that these forms were due to the execution in light elastic wood of arches and vaults copied from foreign work composed of voussoirs, but such is unlikely. assuming that round wood poles, the stems of the plentiful young birch trees, and wattles were the materials of which the frames of the early dwellings were constructed, then such forms naturally result. if the ends of poles are stuck into the earth, and the opposite extremities brought to a common centre and weight--as that of the roof--added, the timbers will sag and a concave section result. that this was one russian form of roof, the illustration of the belvedere of the terem exemplifies (see page ), where the curve is purposely exaggerated for the purpose of decorative effect. if, instead of being placed loosely in the earth to allow of this set, the poles are thrust down deep into the soil or otherwise made immovable and the upper extremities forcibly brought in towards the centre and fastened there, then when the weight of the roof bends the poles, they will bulge outward in the middle, and when the weight of the roof has been so adjusted as to correct the curve in order to give to the structure the desired greatest possible interior space for domestic accommodation, then the bulbous dome naturally results if the poles be arranged in a circle. the ogival arch is only a section of that. granted that if the poles cross each other near the tops a more or less concave cone will result--as exemplified in the tepoes of the american indians--yet if instead of two or three poles, many more have to be brought to the common apex it will be easier not to cross them but bind all firmly to each other--or a central post--then the ogival section must result. if a single pole is bent to form the support of a roof and both its extremities are thrust into the ground, the horseshoe arch is obtained as soon as the weight of the roof acts upon such supports. if, instead of the single pole, two shorter ones are taken and instead of being lashed together to form the pointed arch the upper extremities are brought towards each other and downwards and then lashed, a more rigid bow is obtained, and this is the crude form of the double arch with pendant keystone so common in moscow; and its use generally is over doorways, etc., where a wide span with great stability is required, and with poles as the only available material this form gives rigidity not obtainable by bending to any other so simple form. the form of arched vault that had served as the lowly dwelling of a primitive people was retained in its entirety for the roof of later and larger buildings; the walls, whether of logs or shaped timber, served as imposts, just as the soil had done, and so the bulbous domes, the square and oblong attic roofs with their characteristic gonflements have been retained. it is merely an example of the persistence as decoration of forms which were originally wholly utilitarian. this is particularly the case with the double arch where the pendant keystone descends to the level of the imposts and is of course supported from the lintel when executed in masonry. another characteristic russian form is the circular arch of masonry, which has the voussoirs of the intrados of the usual regular form but of the extrados slightly elevated at the corner to indicate the "ogival arch," which was the common form of the wooden arch in moscow. as already stated (ch. ii.) the early forms of russian dwellings may be studied from the models in the historical museum; one peculiarity is that each successive storey is set back from that immediately below instead of projecting as in the half-timbered houses, of mediæval england. in addition to the belvederes of the terem and potieshni dvorets, it is noticeable in the towers of the kremlin wall. they were originally of timber and the earlier form is retained--even to the double walls and tiers--so necessary to a wooden bulwark, but quite foreign to the method of the italian masons who erected these buildings. the steep roofs of the towers is also common and convenient in constructing with timber, but needless and difficult when working with tiles and bricks. so long as these remain the wooden original moscow cannot be wholly forgotten. the attempt to retain the pyramidal or retreating form when building with bricks has resulted in a distinctly muscovite style for towers and spires. instead of a parapet on the walls of the tower, a tier of small circular arches is imposed, and form the crowns of these, also set back, spring the voussoirs of a second tier, and in like manner other tiers until the desired height is reached for the spire, or the cylindrical shaft that is to support the dome, or whatever other ornament is used to crown the structure. one of the best examples of this form is the church of the nativity on the mala dmitrovka, which was built in the "golden" period of moscow-- - --when for all buildings of first importance masonry had supplanted the use of wood (see p. ). the earlier form may be seen in the roof of the blagovieshchenski sobor; and the varieties of pattern are reproduced in the attic roofs of the historical museum building. the absurdity of the pendant keystone in the double arch is demonstrated by the arch over the doorway to the courtyard of the synod, and the lintels of doors and windows of the potieshni dvorets. the magnificent monument to the great tsar liberator, alexander ii., is the latest addition to the kremlin, that heart of moscow which echoes the glorious past of the russian empire and is its true pantheon. none have graced it more than those early romanofs whose work is evident in every ancient building, but still more imperishable was the noble labour of him to whom this generation has expressed its gratitude in an imposing and characteristic memorial to the most loved tsar. chapter ix _moscow of the ecclesiastics_ "come, brothers! your heads you may bow, before grand and most holy moscow; where the old altars of our land, where shrines of saints, and ikons stand, our inmost sanctuary."--borozdna. holy moscow, so reverently and affectionately regarded by the orthodox as the mother of the church, is to them more than a mere agglomeration of sacred shrines and ecclesiastical edifices. neither the churches--though they are numerous and important enough to warrant the familiar appellation--nor yet the wonder-working, incorruptible remains and the miraculous ikons most endear moscow to the true-believer--for there are such elsewhere which receive like humble homage. holy moscow comprises all that has served to nurse and sustain the faith amidst infidel aggression; the white-walled and golden-crowned city is symbolic of the lasting reward of heroic endeavour in the upward struggle of the race towards supremacy. not indestructible itself, but its spirit undying; razed time after time only to appear again greater and more glorious than before, moscow seems to the russian not so much a part of the national entity personified in empire, as the very soul of his race; possessed, even as each individual, with strength to endure adversity and unfailing vigour to accomplish a predestined purpose. traditions of divine intervention; the finding and promulgation of law; much that is miraculous and legendary as well as all that is credible in early national history the russian associates with moscow, and feels what the stranger cannot be made to perceive, may even fail to comprehend, for the outward and visible sign of the living spirit that actuates the church is but faint and imperfect, even as performance is so often but an inadequate rendering of intention. although the sanctity of moscow may not be apparent to the unorthodox, the observer will expect some characteristics of motive to stand revealed in externals. but to the uninitiated the ritual of the russian church is bewildering, and the true significance of such symbols as are exhibited in ecclesiastical architecture and ornament is likely to be missed by over accentuating the importance of whatever may be unusual. for many, who are quite ignorant of its tenets and practice, the eastern church has an irresistible fascination; the danger is that these, on a first acquaintance will over-praise such details as they may appreciate and too hastily condemn others they may not rightly comprehend, and fail to arrive at a just conclusion by means of further study when no longer attracted by the novelty of the subject. to confine oneself to the consideration of externals is insufficient, being tantamount to the act of one who, absolutely ignorant of card games, endeavours to obtain an idea of the amusement derived from their play by careful examination of the accurate printing and careful finish of certain cards in the pack. on the other hand an attempt to convey by words alone an accurate idea of the full teaching of the eastern church is foredoomed to failure, and the most that can be done is to indicate the broad lines of the policy that has actuated it, and risk such errors as must accrue from possible mistranslations of meaning. all christian races treasure some legend as to the conversion of their forefathers by one of the apostles. the russians are no exception, and, in any event, the introduction of christianity into their country took place in the heroic age. "novgorod, a city of great antiquity, having been founded by rha, a grandson of noah and son of japhet, was visited by the apostle st andrew who wished to preach the gospel. the people would not listen to him, and having disrobed the saint threw him bound into a scalding bath. the saint distressed, and almost suffocated by the vapour, called out '[greek: idrôsa]' (i sweat), whence the name russia. other histories state that the conversion of the race took place some thousand years later, when, strange as it may appear, the polyans were first called russ, as some think from 'ros,' the old german name for 'horse.' there is a tradition that vladimir the great, having conquered fresh territory, became tired of his pagan gods and expressed a desire to embrace a newer faith. with the christianity of rome he would have nothing to do, for, he said, his relations in the west had embraced that, and yet were always at war and without good fortune. the karaïm jews of south russia wished to convert him, but when he learned that they were exiled from the land of their fathers and had no country of their own, he refused, saying they were receiving the harvest of their sins and that he had no wish to cause his people to share their punishment. then hearing that at constantinople another religion was professed he sent delegates thither to observe and judge whether or not it would suit him. these russians were astonished at the many lights in the temple; were moved by the singing and the stately procession of deacons, sub-deacons and others to and from the sacristy, and, particularly, at the humble manner in which the people prostrated themselves when the priests appeared. the ritual they did not understand and asked their guides what it all meant. 'all that we have seen,' they said, 'is awful and majestic, but what seems to us supernatural is the young men who have white wings and dazzling robes, and cry "holy! holy! holy!" in mid-air--this truly surprises us.' 'what?' answered the guides, 'do you not know that angels come down from heaven to our services?' 'you are right,' said the russians; 'it is enough--more we do not wish to see; let us return to our country and tell of that which we have already seen." if the early chronicles may be trusted, the bible was first translated into slavic by cyril and methodius, two greek monks of byzantium, about the year , and so prior to the advent of the norseman rurik. in all probability, the faith was spread by proselytising clergy, in part helped by the devotion of the noble women of byzantium who wedded with the savage ros, and from the first was wholly independent of the civil power. of persecution there was little; kiev furnished one voeroeger martyr, and, as elsewhere among heathen, the christian religion appears to have been readily embraced. before the kremlin was raised, before moscow was, the church was represented on the banks of the moskva by the little wooden chapel "spass na boru." ivan kalita was one of the first to recognise the usefulness of the church as an adjunct to civil and military power; he made priests not only welcome in moscow but all important there. how the reigning princes caused the church in moscow to rival in authority that of kiev and, later, to attain supremacy throughout russia, has already been stated. of equal importance to the work initiated by any tsar were the services of st sergius, founder of the great monastery at troitsa, which at one time possessed immense tracts of land and owned more than , serfs. sergius was born at great rostov, and in his youth passed some time near moscow, and later, having a dozen disciples and the aid of the patriarch of constantinople, helped greatly the colonisation of russia by sending out monks trained at troitsa. he lived the life of a hermit, and even when abbot did his full share of the menial labour. a commonly seen picture represents him as an old man seated on a rough bench sharing his piece of bread with a bear. then came st peter, an apostle sent from macedonia, who, as a sign "passed through the fire" uninjured; after converting many he settled at kiev and was of great assistance to george danielovich in raising the clerical status of moscow, and to his "incorruptible remains" many miracles are attributed. a large number of relics assigned to him are still preserved in the uspenski sobor and the sacristy of the patriarchs. next in importance to moscow was alexis, the metropolitan, afterwards canonised. from the earliest times, the clergy, living the life of the people and not that of the military caste, had great influence with citizens and peasants: many times the church has raised the spirit of the nation when oppressed by foreign invaders. it spurred on ivan iii. to overthrow the mongol rule, and stirred up the people to repulse the poles and secure national independence. one source of its power has been the use of the vernacular in all services; the church most certainly during the centuries of tartar dominion also preserved the slavic tongue from foreign dialects. the clergy have always held it their chief duty to pass on to their successors their faith as they received it. schism is not tolerated; the slightest modification of ritual is forbidden. the metropolitans of moscow were long able to preserve the independence of the church against the encroachments of the reigning princes; ivan the terrible's chief plaint against the clergy was that they exercised their privilege of forbidding the execution of those whom he had condemned to death. boris godunov gave moscow a patriarch, and added to the power of the church by appointing seven of the clergy to seats in the states council. when, in , the tsar michael met his father, the patriarch philaret, on the banks of the pressenaia (near the drogomilov bridge) both bowed low and remained long recumbent, unwilling that either should consider the head of the church superior or inferior to the head of the state. from that time until philaret's death in father and son practically ruled conjointly. nikon was scarce content to be the equal of his sovereign, and ranked the church above the state: he fell. peter the great scornfully suppressed the patriarchate, but did not arrogate to himself the powers of the head of the church, substituting a synod to be elected from the hierarchy he himself appointed. so it remains to the present day, the reigning monarch having no right, from his position, to interfere in spiritual affairs, yet still controlling the administration of church law. in matters of belief the eastern church nearly approaches the anglican, the main divergence is that whereas the anglican and roman churches agree that the holy ghost proceeds from the father and the son, the eastern church holds that it proceeds from the father only. the bible may be read; the church may interpret its teaching, "for the traditions of the church have been maintained uncorrupted through the influence of the holy spirit." god the father, the son, and the holy ghost, "perfectly equal in nature and dignity," may alone be worshipped; but homage may be paid to the virgin mary, and reverence shown to the saints, to ikons and to relics. that this may not be abused, bishops at their consecration are requested to promise that "honour shall be shown to god only, not to the sacred ikons, and that no false miracle shall be ascribed to them.... the _moshi_ or incorruptible remains which are so greatly venerated, are the corpses of those long dead, whose burial-place has been forgotten and is made known by a supernatural manifestation. these remains must not be subject to the ordinary process of decay, and may possess such virtue as to miraculously cure the sick--which is the quality usually attributed to them." the ecclesiastical architecture of moscow, or of russia, is not so complex as it appears to be at first sight; originally the place for christian worship was but a square log-hut; add an apse at the east end, cover the building with a dome roof supporting a cross to indicate its sacred character, and the external structure of the primitive church is complete. instead of a dome roof it was found easier, as larger buildings became necessary, to cover with the dome only the centre of the church, which was still further elevated to make more prominent the dome and cross denoting the purpose of the building. three apses, symbolic of the trinity, took the place of one; five and seven are sometimes found. when the idea of the original whole dome roof was expressed by four small domes arranged around the higher central one, the model became the permanent type from which all other forms have been elaborated. the primitive type is best exemplified in the church of st michael within the chudov monastery, but the cathedrals of the assumption and of the archangels, on the sobornia ploshchad of the kremlin, will serve equally well to illustrate the permanent form. the origin and development of the bulbous dome, as well as the size, position and number of secondary domes, may be traced by comparing the various old churches in south russia, and those of wood, formerly or at present existing in "wooden" russia. for this purpose a convenient series of framed drawings is to be found on stands in room [greek: b] of the historical museum. they confirm what has already been stated in the preceding chapter, concerning the origin of russian architecture, and show that the number of domes--some churches have seventeen, if not more--is immaterial, since all should be so arranged as to increase the importance of the central one. those in which all are equal in size and height--as the roof over the chapels of the terem--are quite exceptional. the chief modification arose from the necessity of preserving the structure and its valued contents from the great cold of the winter and the excessive moisture of the summer. to overcome the first difficulty the church was surrounded with a gallery; to obviate the second the floor of the church raised to a higher storey; when the two were combined as in many churches of the sixteenth and seventeenth century, some elaboration of proaulion and _kriltso_ was natural. the best specimens of this class are the churches of st nicholas of the great cross on the ilyinka, and of the assumption on the pokrovka; the ordinary design is that of the porches and approach to vasili blajenni, and of the blagovieshchenski sobor before the ground was raised to its present level. the belfry, a somewhat late comer to the russian church, was usually a separate building adjacent to, but not a component part of, the church itself. when masonry superseded wood, the old designs were for the most part retained: so possibly the only other important point of general application is the subsequent employment of the tapering spire--and its modifications of superposed arches, etc.--to support the dome and cross, instead of the cylindrical shaft peculiar to russian architecture, which last was evidently derived from round towers of very remote origin. the windows are small and unimportant--often mere oblong slits in the wall--and, though the accepted form admits of little modification towards the elaboration of elegance and grace in the design, and the decoration is limited by the ecclesiastical objection to carved figures--and climatic conditions which preclude the employment of projecting mouldings and all fine work in high relief--the brilliant colouring and mural decorations of plane surfaces convey an impression of richness, which, combined with the absence of the usual and conspicuousness of strange decorations, magnify the whole, in many instances, into the resemblance of whatever the imagination may picture as most ornate and brilliant. in essentials the interior arrangements of all the churches are similar: east of the pillars that support the central dome, the church is divided by the ikonostas--a development of the rood-screen--which separates the officiating priests from the worshippers. in old churches seats were placed round the walls and stalls provided for persons of high rank, but for long it has been customary for the congregation to stand during the services. behind the ikonostas is the sanctuary; there females may not enter, nor any male if physically imperfect; it is disclosed to the worshippers during the celebration of mass by opening the "royal doors" in the centre of the ikonostas. there are in all churches sacred ikons, having the place of honour on the ikonostas; decorative and illustrative pictures are placed there also, and the same--as frescoes, or otherwise--around the central columns and along the walls of the church. usually the north wall is appointed for those pertaining to the saint to whom the church is dedicated; the south wall to the seven councils, the west to other sacred subjects. although the ikonostas is the equivalent of the rood-screen in the old english churches, it is not only always a fixture, but sometimes a solid partition of masonry, being really that barrier which shuts off the holy of holies, that may be entered by the consecrated priests alone, from the rest of the temple. it is always decorated, but the high ikonostas, having five, or even seven, tiers of pictures is a development later than the fifteenth century. the "royal doors" must have representations of the annunciation and the four evangelists, since through this entrance came the glad tidings of the eucharist; right and left of the doors the saviour and the madonna; also, usually, adam, as the first fallen, and the penitent thief as the first redeemed; above, the trinity; abraham entertaining the three angels and john the baptist most frequently figure on the screen, and, on the pillars facing the entrance, the publican and pharisee as symbolic of an all inclusive congregation of worshippers. in the sanctuary is a tabernacle or sinai, upon the altar, and over it a baldachino on which the cross is laid horizontally--or nearly so. in the apse behind [illustration: church of the nativity and flight] the altar is the _thronos_ or seat of the head of the church, with other seats for priests on both sides; the choir is a raised dais before the ikonostas. the russian cross has eight points. to the latin cross are added the titulus, and a lower diagonal crosspiece which is assumed to be a rest for the feet. _post hoc, propter hoc_, and that this rest slants is said to be due to the fact that christ was lame; others think that its purpose is merely to give the idea of perspective of the hill golgotha on which the cross was placed, and others as indicating the earthquake, whilst those versed in mystic symbolism will recognise a totally distinct signification.[b] to these last too, the accepted explanations of the crescent from which the cross rises will be insufficient. it was common in russia prior to the mongol occupation, so is not the result of placing crosses upon mosques, or intended to denote the subjugation of mahommedanism to christianity. more probable is the explanation, that in ancient pictures the virgin is shown standing upon the crescent, and the cross was later placed by the russian ecclesiastics to denote that the cross issues from the mother of god. maxim, the greek, in the sixteenth century, declared that the crescent represented upsilon, the initial of [greek: hupsos], and so is emblematical of the uplifting of the cross; but if its application as a sign of christian dogma is open to various constructions, all will at once recognise the sign as one of the most ancient and general of mystic symbols. [b] the russian cross is derived from the old eastern form of the greek letter _xi_. the ecclesiastical art of russia is of a different nature to that of any school of the west. the ikons, or sacred pictures, must be exact copies of the originals, thus the practice supports gibbon's contention that the religious value of a sacred image depends for its efficacy upon its resemblance to the original.[c] in moscow there are several pictures of the saviour "not made with hands," being in that respect, and that only, similar to the veronica and the miraculous image of edessa. they are not alike, and their origin is not known, but it is conjectured that the initials [greek: o t h], on the nimbus, have been wrongly interpreted as the initials of _ot, otsa, nebesnavo_, which means "from our father on high" instead of _on, otets, nash_--"he is our father." the greek characters were little known in russia, and one of the pictures has this legend in greek [greek: o.Ô.n.] in the same connection it is worth noting that our i.h.s. is a misreading into latin of [greek: iÊs], the greek contraction of [greek: iÊsous], where the long e was mistaken for a capital h, and the dash above it developed into a cross. the ordinary ikons are restricted to fixed types; the artist therefore has never needed to create, only to reproduce. there are no russian madonnas, all are replicas of pictures brought from greece or byzantium; "the ikon painter knows but one costume, for all places and all times it changeth not; tradition fixes the form of the head, the pose, the proportion, the attitudes and the attributes." most are produced by monks and probationers who follow the instructions given in a tenth century ms. by dionysius of mount athos. rigorously it is only the features of the saint that must be exactly reproduced; in practice it is customary to cover all but the face and hands with thin metal--gold, silver, or gilt, and to ornament the setting lavishly. in the seventeenth century, the golden age of muscovite ecclesiasticism, there were several branches of ikon painting, not differing sufficiently to warrant the appellation of "schools." these were known as the imperial or court style; the village, the strogonov, and the monastic. novgorod would have the faces yellow; the strogonov insisted upon dark green--an introduction from byzantium, and sometimes known as khorsunski. black virgins are not unknown--the result of time upon impure pigments; those with three small scratches on the face are copies of the iberian mother of god, a twelfth century ikon of the virgin. graven images are not allowed in the russian church, being held to be a violation of the second commandment. the only exception is that of st nicholas. holy statues were abolished by order of the patriarch philaret, and when these were removed from the churches all went well until hands were laid upon one of the representatives of the patron saint; no force could stir that; where, by extraordinary means, the statue was broken from the pedestal, the image of the saint reappeared. this is the only figure seen in high relief, and is usually made with the model of a church in his hand. the popularity of the saint may be estimated from the fact, that at one time there were as many as churches in moscow dedicated to st nicholas. [c] "by a slow though inevitable progression the honours of the original were transferred to the image; the merit and effect of a copy depends upon its resemblance with the original."--_gibbon,--decline and fall of the roman empire_, chapter xlix. the rites of the russian church are complex, and to the unorthodox, perplexing. the celebrant by the minute observance of minor details gives to every act a symbolic meaning, and to even the least significant of them some dogma of the church is attached. the service is in slavonic, of which the ordinary people do not understand the letter, but can follow the general meaning; it is impressive apart from its significance, and is intended so to be. it commences with a call to worship--the _vozglass_--singing of psalms; a series of prayers--_ektenia_--for the welfare of the church, intoned; the evangels or epistles also intoned; "choral and part-singing of unequalled harmony and richness; prayers; consecration of the elements; administration of the sacrament, which the priest takes every service, and the congregation at will, but at least once yearly; thanksgiving, and the parting benediction; chanting and incense-burning are frequent throughout, and asperging is practised at the commencement and termination. for the greater part of the time the "royal doors" are closed: the deacons remain before the ikonostas, but now and again some enter the sanctuary for a short time. from time to time priests and acolytes pass to and fro among the congregation, incensing all the sacred ikons in turn. the voice of the officiating priest is raised within, and is answered in deep tones by the deacons without. now from some unnoticed corner comes a clear ringing chant from many voices, from another a deep single voice is heard intoning the epistle, or evangel, of the day; then suddenly the royal doors fly open and a glimpse is obtained of the celebrant through thick rolling clouds of incense; the people prostrate themselves and the doors close." later the priest emerges and the service has concluded--to the unorthodox stranger of any creed it has been almost meaningless. the history of moscow is so intermingled with that of the russian church, and the cathedrals of the kremlin and private chapels of the palace the scene of so many notable events, that the reader will not need a recountal of the stories concerning the historical characters who have made them famous. here it will suffice if the minor details to be examined are enumerated, and the tale of the struggle between orthodoxy and dissent succinctly related. uspenski sobor the cathedral of the assumption, formerly known as that of the patriarchs, originated with the metropolitan peter, who said to ivan "kalita," "if thou wishest that my old age be graced with peace, content, and fulness, thou wilt raise on this site a grand temple to our holy mother of god, then shalt thou likewise be happy, become the most illustrious of the princes of our age, and thy race powerful throughout the earth." so in ivan erected a fine wooden church, which, in , when the wood buildings were being replaced [illustration: uspenski sobor, the ikonostas] by those of stone, was taken down and an attempt made by russian artisans to build its equal in brick. before this work was complete the walls fell, and aristotle of bologna, who had been entrusted with the removal of the campanile there, and the repair of the leaning tower of cento, was ordered to construct the cathedral anew. aristotle taught the muscovites how to make larger and harder bricks than the pantiles to which they were accustomed; how to turn an arch and make vaulted roofs. he took as his model for this cathedral the church of the virgin in vladimir and used the white stone of kolomna hewn into rectangular blocks which he fastened together with iron cramps. _structure._--the foundations are feet below the surface, but the floor of the cathedral was originally seven or more feet lower than at present: height to cupola feet. the walls were strengthened in after the injury done by the poles; in the domes were covered with gilded copper, and the mural decorations restored after the fire of all saint's day, , and the french occupation, but otherwise the edifice, is practically as completed in . _the south porch_ is closed by the golden gates of korsoun, which were carried from that town to suzdal, and thence to moscow--they are actually of coppered iron gilt, divided into twenty compartments exhibiting scenes from biblical history, and below apollo, plato, and mythological figures. before them the grand princes of muscovy were invested with the authority of the khan by his bashkak during the centuries of the mongol supremacy. the royal entrance is by the western doors; the public entrance by those on the north side. _the interior_ is remarkable for its ikonostas and ikons. the screen is of masonry and descends feet below the surface; it is adorned with frescoes, which may be inspected only when the sacred ikons are removed for that special purpose. the upper range has been recently restored to its condition prior to the french invasion, when the old one was stripped of all its precious metal; the great silver chandelier of lbs., made in england in , was put in the casting-pot and scales suspended from its place; horses were stabled in the chapel, and tethered to the coffins of the metropolitans. not content with robbing the sanctuary of its precious metals the french deliberately placed the mannikins from the old suits of armour in the orujenni palata as idols in conspicuous positions about the church. the chandeliers are of silver--some lbs. of which in the one from the central cupola is that recovered by the cossacks from the retreating french: some five tons of precious metal are in the present ikonostas. _the ikons_ include the most prized mary of vladimir attributed to st luke, which was brought from tsar grad--constantinople--to kief, taken by andrew bogoloobski to vladimir and brought to moscow on the tartar invasion. it is regarded as miraculous, having saved the city from tamerlane, and on subsequent occasions. tsars and people alike in past generations have regarded this picture as their palladium. of its artistic merits it would be idle to write; black with age and discoloured by the accidents incidental to preservation in an oft burned city, it is as represented in the frontispiece. completely enveloped, but hands and face, in precious metal and handsome garniture, it exhibits a richness of decoration few articles of _vertu_ can equal; the gems alone being valued at upwards of £ , , and the great emerald itself at £ , . the next ikon of importance is that of the holy virgin of jerusalem, which, according to tradition, was the work of the apostles. taken to constantinople in the fifth century and to kherson in the tenth, it came thence to moscow--but others say, it is but a copy, the original having disappeared during the french occupation. on the right of the royal doors is the image of our saviour in the golden chasuble, painted by the greek emperor manuel, and brought from novgorod the great in . by its side is an ikon with most brilliant colouring representing the assumption, which is said to be the work of the metropolitan peter, the founder of the church; but if it be not his handicraft is still a remarkable specimen of the ikon painter's art in russia of the fourteenth century. these, with others, are all on the lower tier. on the tiers above are usually placed: highest, the madonna and the infant jesus, the fathers of the church in pre-mosaic days, portraits of persons mentioned in genesis; on the second stage, the prophets from moses to jesus christ; on the third, incidents in the life of the saviour illustrative of church feasts; on the fourth, portraits of the saints of the orthodox church; on the fifth, the sacred ikons. _other pictures_ in the cathedral include portraits of the patriarchs and saints; many frescoes on a gold ground are ranged around the four pillars that support the central cupola; and, on the walls, the martyrdoms of orthodox saints are depicted. a bas-relief, supposed to represent st george slaying the dragon, has been identified by sneguirev as once part of a triumphal arch the christians erected in rome to constantine the great. _the sanctuary_ has a tabernacle of precious metal ( lbs. gold and lbs. silver) on the grand altar, which contains the host and formerly also held a number of important state papers which were transferred to st petersburg in . also a large bible of natalia naryshkin set with gems worth several thousand pounds. _the chapel of sts. peter and paul_ is before the most northern apse, with the tomb of st peter immediately on the right when entering; just beyond it is that of the metropolitan st theognitus; on the left are sacred relics: (_a_) the "holy coat" or a portion of the "tunic" worn by the saviour; (_b_) a nail of the true cross; (_c_) the right hand of st andrew the apostle; (_d_) the head of st gregory the theologian; and (_e_) the head of st john chrysostom. the shrines were profaned by tokhtamysh, and ransacked by the french. here in olden times the rulers of the principalities in vassalage to moscow embraced the cross and swore fealty, and here the metropolitans were appointed to their office. _the chapel of st dmitri_ of thessalonica, called "the peaceable." is on the south side of the sanctuary. it contains the oldest tomb in moscow, that of yuri, brother of ivan "kalita," and it was in this chapel that yuri glinski, brother of ivan the terrible's mother, was slain. _the chapel of the virgin mary_ is reached by a flight of steps near the south apse, for it is situated under the southern cupola. there the patriarchs were elected. in its sanctuary are: (_a_) copy of the gospels, printed in moscow and presented to the boy-tsars, ivan and peter, with beautiful initials and rich binding, the work of foreign artisans in the palace; (_b_) an illuminated psalter of the fifteenth century; (_c_) an illuminated ms. of the gospels by russian scribes, ; (_d_) a cross of cypress wood, enclosing a piece of the true cross; (_e_) cross of the emperor constantine; (_f_) jasper vases which were ornamented with the latin cross--they were brought from novgorod, having belonged to the old monastery there, by ivan. iv.; (_g_) a sacramental chalice, which was presented to monomachus by alexis cominus, and is used to the present day for the holy oil with which the tsars are anointed at their coronation. _the tombs_ of the patriarchs are ranged along the western wall; that of jonas is on the north-west, and near the ikonostas is the shrine of st philip, murdered in tver by maluta skutarov to please ivan iv. _the thrones_ or stalls of the tsar and tsaritsa are situated, the first between the south column and the south wall, the second just before the north column; the large stall in front of the south column is for the patriarch, and dates from the days of philaret only. the canopy in the south-western corner is for the "holy coat" sent by the shah abbas, but this is usually kept in the altar of the north chapel. it is pretty generally known that the uspenski sobor is the state cathedral; that in it the tsars of russia must be crowned; there, too, several have been married, foreign princes have renounced their faith and accepted the orthodox religion prior to marriage with the royal princesses, and there peter the great caused his son alexis to repudiate his right to succeed to the throne: actually it is the mausoleum of the patriarchs and heads of the orthodox church. there is nothing in its architecture that demands comment, the external mural pictures are common place, and from the artistic standpoint the work that merits closest attention and highest praise is the open scroll, bent and hammered metal on the lattices of the different shrines, and almost equally good is much of the chiselled, moulded and other decorative metal work on the ikonostas. it is a typical church, richer in precious metal, sacred ikons and holy relics than other churches in moscow; it is the pious wish of the guardians of the other churches to make theirs even as is this. archangelski sobor the cathedral of the archangel michael is of even plainer appearance than the uspenski; its south wall has been propped by a common buttress which, pierced for the lancet windows, gives that side much the appearance of a fortress. its history is similar to that of the other cathedrals; the first wooden church on the site was erected in the twelfth century. ivan "kalita" built it anew as the place of sepulture for himself and his descendants. ivan iii. demolished that church and employed the italian aleviso to construct the present edifice, consecrated in . it has suffered severely at different times, especially during the french occupation, when an attempt was made to destroy it by exploding a large quantity of spirit the french brought within for the purpose, but this served only to scatter the tombs, wreck the interior and spring the south wall. the church contains the remains of the princes and all the tsars of moscow. the petitions of the people laid upon the tombs of the tsars were taken and read by peter i. himself. most of the religious ceremonies peculiar to this church relate to masses for the dead, and homage paid to the memory of ancestors. it has the usual rectangular form, the four central columns, the five cupolas, which the people think always dedicated to the saviour and the four evangelists. the chapel on the west side is a later addition--the sole remaining one of four, which existed in the seventeenth century. on the south side is a small chamber which was the _izba_, or palace of justice, and below it are vaulted arches which extend almost the whole length of the kremlin; the original paving is now some feet below the level of the squares adjoining. here the tsar's gift of money was scattered at his coronation. the most noteworthy objects in the church are: the ikonostas, high, brilliant and sparkling with gems; the excellent metal-work of the shrines; the mural paintings--portraits of the tsars whose tombs are below, and the richly worked palls over the tombs. _the ikonostas_ is of five stages; the sacred ikons are: (_a_) the virgin "beneficent," brought to moscow by the tsaritsa sophia vitovtovna; (_b_) the virgin of tikhvin, the ikon of the tsaritsa maria nagoi, mother of the murdered tsarevich, dmitri; (_c_) st basil the great, near the south wall; (_d_) st simeon stylite. _the tombs_ of forty-seven princes of the line of rurik lie upon the floor: though not arranged in chronological order, no difficulty will be found in recognising any one of them. only one emperor, peter ii., grandson of peter the great, is buried here; those of the tsars michael and alexis romanof are on the right hand near the first pillar, surrounded by those of their sons and grandsons. near is the tomb of the murdered dmitri, whose portrait in gold is hung on the pillar over the coffin. the silver candelabra before it was presented by the inhabitants of uglitch where he was murdered when but six years old. vasili, the blind, is buried near the ikonostas; and by his side lies ivan iii., the maker of middle moscow and uniter of the russian-lands. near the first pillar on the left is the tomb of alexander, tsar of kazan: near the second pillar, the tsarevich peter, son of ibrahim, and grandson of mamotiakov, once tsar of kazan. the remains of ivan the terrible are near the high altar, a testimony of the forgiving temperament of prelates of the orthodox church. the tomb is covered with a black pall, indicating that he had been received into the church as a monk before his death. horsey states that persons passing his tomb uttered a prayer that he might never rise again: to this day, twice yearly, a special mass is celebrated invoking forgiveness for that "burden of sins voluntary or involuntary known to themselves or to themselves unknown" committed on earth by those whose bodies are buried within the church. in a side chapel, dedicated to the martyred tsar, are the remains of michael skopin shooiski, the popular military hero of the "times of trouble," and a bronze shrine covers the remains of chernigof and his boyard theodore, martyred by the tartars. _the decorations_ are mural pictures, dry frescoes of portraits of the tsars, the best that of vasili ii. habited as a monk: also illustrations of the last judgment, the "symbol of faith," and miracles of the archangel michael, which represent russian pictorial art of the seventeenth century. _the sacristy_ contains some very beautiful sacerdotal robes presented to officiating priests on state occasions; the gems on the richer _sakkos_ being exceptionally beautiful. there is also an ornate copy of the gospels brought from novgorod in ; it has picturesque portraits of the evangelists, and characteristic illuminated initials; the golden filigree work on the cover is excellent. a psalter of has elegant marginal decorations. there were also rich crosses of gold and silver--the one that belonged to ivan iv. with large pearls, best worth examination--reliquaries, and a curious gold chalice some lbs. weight. many will be more interested in the fine needle and jewelry work on the elaborated palls of which the church has a great many exquisite specimens. _the relics_ are not numerous: those which formally belonged to the tsar alexis are within a reliquary of the cross above mentioned: and a drop of the blood of john the baptist is shown under a crystal in one of the ikons. blagovieshchenski sobor [illustration: blagovieshchenski sobor] the cathedral of the annunciation is of a more elaborate and picturesque style than either the uspenski or the archangelski, which, in part, may be attributed to the fact that it is more intimately connected with the royal palaces than they are. reached directly by the palace terrace, it is the complement of the krasnoe kriltso, and was used for the baptism of the royal children, the confessions of the tsars, and religious ceremonies of a semi-state character. its earlier designations were, among others, the "church of the grand-ducal court," "church of the tsarian vestibule," and "church of the tsarian treasury," which clearly indicate the court uses for which it has been employed. it has nine cupolas; the roof of pointed vaults rising tier above tier is most characteristic of muscovite architecture, and the entrance is by a flight of steps communicating with a covered gallery which surrounds the church, see page . its early history is that of the others; first, a wooden church erected by andrew in , rebuilt in ; in the walls decorated with pictures by rublev; in part demolished by ivan iii., who built again from the first floor up, and, completed in , painted during the reign of vasili ivanovich; damaged by the fire of ivan iv. restored it, and furnished cupolas covered with the gold he seized at novgorod. the poles in and the french in both spoiled it, but the last only partially, the fact that most of its treasures had been taken away to vologda probably misleading them so that they did not make a thorough search for the valuables left within. during its recent restoration the architect found that earlier decorations existed beneath the outer coverings of plaster and paint; they were carefully uncovered and remain exposed. the entrance is by the northern porch within the railed-off sobornia ploshchad; among the first mural paintings on the right are portraits of the ancient philosophers, aristotle, plato, ptolemy, socrates, thucydides, zeno, and others, with lengthy quotations from their writings on tablets they support; beyond, representations of the saviour and the apostles, these pictures dating from , the year of the great plague. the side posts of the doorways, richly carved, are of early sixteenth century native work--and some of the best specimens now extant. the interior of the church is small, and looks even smaller than it really is owing to an elevated tribune, or gallery, against the west wall, which served for members of the tsar's family to participate in the services without being exposed to public view, the tsar himself being on the ground floor, opposite the ikonostas. the parquet is of jasper mosaic, a present from the shah to alexis. concerning it, an enthusiastic, travelled native author remarks: "it is a facsimile of a mosaic in st mark's, venice; the only difference being that whereas the floor of st mark's is uneven, to represent the ripples of the sea and symbolise that venice rules on the foaming waves, this is quite regular and uniform, emblematic of the vast steppes of which moscow is the sovereign."[d] [d] this church has the further distinction of being the first supplied with a public clock, which was placed there by lazarus serbin, in the seventeenth century. about the south porch the last public discussions were held with dissenters led by the able pafnuty. even more interesting are the old mural paintings, pre-raphælite in point of time and in the _argot_ of the studio "more than pre-raphælite" in style. the subjects are biblical: the adventures of jonah; the mysterious visions recorded in the apocalypse; the punishment of the damned; the glories of paradise, with much else that is curious. they are already the joy of a "school" and the admiration of russian antiquaries. though crude, unreal, and not a little absurd now, in the long ago, among the uncultured people to whom they were first presented, they cannot have failed to impress beholders powerfully, notwithstanding that their influence upon the art of the time was infinitesimal. the columns are square, from them hang the chains and jewelled crosses worn by former princes. the ikonostas is of five stages, separated by rails of brass and bronze columns--the precious metals with which it was formerly covered were looted by the french. the more remarkable ikons are (_a_) one of the saviour's agony--a typical specimen of byzantine work in the fourteenth century; (_b_) the richly decorated holy mother of god, known as the donski virgin, because carried by dmitri at kulikovo; the ikon only was saved, in , the frame was mistaken by the french for copper and has been repaired; the ornaments are modern, except the eighteen portraits of saints on the margin, which are foreign. near the altar are the two crosses of korsun. there are four chapels on the higher storey; they are quite independent of the church with separate entrances from the gallery. that dedicated to st george is quite modern, but that of the virgin has one of the most primitive rood-screens to be found in moscow; on it the ikons are set round with great flat bands of silver; like that of the saviour, and that of the archangel gabriel, it quite escaped pillage in . the sacristy--in a small building on the south side--is peculiarly rich in relics, a complete collection of sacred remains brought from constantinople in . it includes bones of different saints--contained in thirty-two silver and gilt caskets; a reliquary with the sponge used at the crucifixion of christ; a portion of the rod with which he was beaten; some drops of his blood; spikes from the crown of thorns; an eight pointed cross, of the wood of the "true cross," and a fragment of the stone that was rolled away from before the saviour's tomb. to them must be added a great number of russian tsarian and ecclesiastical antiquities collected in russia. spass na boru the church of the transfiguration, known colloquially as spass na boru, st saviour's in the forest, is supposed to be on the site of the first building ever raised on the kremlin hill--that of the skeet of the hermit who inhabited it prior to the tenth century. the first stone church there dates from ; restored in , and rebuilt in , and again restored in , , , and . still much of its architectural primitiveness has been preserved, but it is typical of a church with monastery attached, as once the case (see page ). there are now no external mural paintings, but those inside are curious; the small, low belfry is very quaint and the bells now hung there are old foreign bells--among the first brought to moscow. the central chapel, that of the transfiguration, is the oldest, the "royal doors" are of primitive type. its sacristy is poor: the relics are those of st stephen the apostle to the permians, and some fragments of bones and vestments found during the alterations in the present century. it is best seen in the early morning, a service is held daily, and the church is much visited by those about to marry, for, according to tradition, sts yuri, samon and aviva, to whom its side chapels are dedicated, are patrons of those whose love affairs do not run smooth. on the higher storey is the chapel of st stephen the permian. patriarshia riznitsa the church of the twelve apostles and sacristy of the patriarchs is on the site of a fifteenth century church on the north side of the uspenski sobor. it was built by nikon and is still used in connection with the synod. it is on the second storey, and above it is the chapel of st philip--the private chapel of the patriarchs after nikon. in the rooms adjoining are kept the holy vessels, most valuable church plate, and relics of the patriarchs and the church. many are contained in the cases arranged round the walls, the others may be inspected on application to one of the attendants--who will expect _adin rubl na chaiu_--or to those much interested will be shown by the sacristan, who will explain their use and relate their history. a complete catalogue may be had, but the best account is that of the learned antiquarian, sabas, bishop of mojaisk, whose book is known to all interested in the lore of the eastern church; a french translation of it has been published in which the author's name is spelled "savva." among the more interesting articles of art workmanship are the panagies or jewelled crosses worn by the patriarchs and others after consecration to their high office. "among the objects of greatest antiquity are the sacerdotal robes of the high clergy. they are in the case near the altar; the 'omophorium of the sixth oecumenical council' of the catalogue, is said to have belonged to st nicholas the wonder-worker, archbishop of mirliki, and worn by that saint at the council at nice: sabas thinks that it was presented to alexis by gregory of nicea who visited moscow in , with letters from the patriarchs of jerusalem and constantinople testifying to its genuineness. it belonged to the patriarch of alexandria, who was present at the assembly of the three hundred and eighteen fathers of the church, and, latterly, opinion inclines to its having originated with him. equally ancient is a mitre, easily recognised from other 'crowns' in the case by its pointed shape, similar to those of ancient byzantium. it was presented to the tsar theodore; the donor, miletius piga, of alexandria, wrote that, apart from the gems with which it is adorned and the rich material, its age and reputation, it is to be esteemed above its intrinsic value because taken to the council at ephesus by cyril, in . the mitre of the patriarch job, , differs from those of later date by reason of its very flat top--the shape of a _klobook_, hat, or ancient crown--rather than a mitre. the mitres ranged with it were constructed by the directions of nikon, and equal in richness and other details the royal crowns. "of croziers and their equivalents there are many specimens, the most venerated, however, is that of st peter, by the altar on the uspenski sobor,--_the staff_ that passed from pontiff to pontiff through the centuries. there are three of the five in the sacristy of tau shape and beautiful, they belonged to philaret; the others to nikon. the processional cross of nikon has but four points. of copes there are forty-one; the oldest is that of peter, the metropolitan ( ), used afterwards at the consecration of the patriarchs. the _panagia_ or pyx worn by a bishop, or higher prelate, is often an exquisite piece of jewelry. that catalogued as no. is of onyx, with a superposed layer having the crucifixion _in relievo_; on the reverse, a greek cross, the emperor constantine and helena, his mother. it belonged to the patriarch job and has a most beautiful setting of russian enamel and niello work of the sixteenth century. no. is also of onyx, with ruby and pearl decoration, it appertained to peter. no. . is a sardonyx of elaborate workmanship and unusual size; it has a reliquary containing a fragment of the robe of royal purple with which the saviour was mockingly invested, and is believed to have been produced to the order of ivan iv. to commemorate the birth of dmitri. no. contains an emerald of purest water, three-fifths of an inch in diameter. in another is also a fine emerald which weighs carats. there are in addition jewels, rings, seals, cups, goblets, crosses, and other trinkets of the fathers of the russian church, and amongst them an object known as the 'antik,' which has puzzled the learned. it is a shell of mother-of-pearl, shaped like a woman's breast, and on this in fine gold, beautifully enamelled, the gorgon's head, the fanged heads of the serpent-locks intertwined and biting each other. it is on a base of rock-crystal, gold encrusted, and the medallions enamelled with representations of different buildings--it has figured in the inventory since , when it had a double case of dark green velvet. the fine collection of church plate is principally of the seventeenth century and later. "in the adjoining mirovarennaya palata, the holy chrism is prepared every other year, in strict conformance with the original instruction. it is, when prepared, taken in sixteen silver phials to the uspenski sobor and then at a special service during lent (usually holy thursday) consecrated by the metropolitan, and further hallowed by the addition of a few drops of the oil from the vessel of 'alabaster' in which the holy chrism was first brought into russia from constantinople, the vessel having never been emptied, since the quantity taken for this purpose is immediately replaced by the addition of that newly made. the 'alabaster' is a long-necked flask of copper, wholly covered with scales of mother-of-pearl, and is supposed to be of the same size and form as that box of ointment mary magdalene offered jesus. "the library of the synod contains about one thousand slavic mss. on church rites and copies of the scriptures, many between the seventh and twelfth centuries, and five hundred greek mss. of even earlier date. they were got together by the patriarch nikon for the purpose of comparison, and restoring the ritual of the russian church to its original, or at least earlier, rule. the printed books have mostly been removed to other collections, and the mss. are of interest only to those well acquainted with the rites of the early christian church, and such students are readily granted access to them." such a brief account does scant justice to one of the finest and most complete collections of ecclesiastical furniture the world has produced; but, interesting as some of the objects are to all beholders, it is to the student of ecclesiasticism that they will appeal with greatest force. to him also, the technique of ritual; the customs appertaining to the dispersion of relics among newly-built churches and restoration of those injured by time and accident; together with many other matters of church rule and procedure which find illustration in this collection, should prove both attractive and instructive. of greater general interest is the story of the struggle between orthodoxy and heterodoxy, the rise of heresy and states of different forms of dissent; that dramatic movement of ecclesiasticism which is world wide, continuous, and of perennial concern to all. whatever heresies may have existed in early russia, with the ascendancy of moscow these perished, and the prelates had only to guard against the wiles of rome and to stay its power on the confines of the kingdom. during the reign of vasili the blind the unsuccessful attempt of the metropolitan isidor to introduce romish practices intensified the conservatism of the prelates. in , anthony possevin, a jesuit emissary of the pope, gregory xiii., had long discussions with ivan the terrible in the granovitaia palata respecting the union of the churches. ivan was outspoken: the emissary returned unsatisfied. the false dmitri's view has already been given: he was overthrown and the supremacy of the orthodox prelates increased by boris godunov's initiation of the patriarchate. the tsar michael and his father philaret appear to have been always in accord, and then the temporal power of the prelates was equal to that of the sovereign. alexis, a boy of seventeen, was unfortunate in having as collaborator the sturdy nikon. after his absence in the war against the poles he found nikon, as veliki gossudar, a title reserved for the tsars, absolutely autocratic. the tsar objected to the use of the title by the patriarch; nikon resigned his office, and retired to the vosskresenki monastery on the varvarka, expecting alexis would seek him, but the tsar did not visit him nor did he appoint another patriarch. nikon had already given great offence to the clergy for, attracted by some text on one of the ecclesiastical vestments that had been received from greece, he recognised a considerable difference between the greek rendering and that current in slavonic; prosecuting his investigations further he found many discrepancies and tried in all things to revert to the older practice. his action was construed as the introduction of new procedure--and consequently vigorously opposed--and orthodoxy split into two camps; those who agreed with the head of the church that the ancient practice was correct and should be introduced and the more conservative who would not depart from that to which they had been accustomed, and it is they who are known as the "old believers," for the alterations proposed by nikon ultimately became general. although the patriarch had resigned he continued to receive the clergy and concern himself with the direction of ecclesiastical affairs. in he angered the people by going into private chapels and houses and removing all copies of the ikon nerukotvorenni, "not made with hands," because unlike the ikons of mount athos. the priest visited moscow, and the people paraded the empty ikon cases and the defaced ikons, attributing to this outrage the plague from which so many suffered, and the clergy then left moscow in large numbers fearing assault. in the tsar's emissaries informed him that he ought no longer to interfere. he thereupon withdrew from moscow. in advent he suddenly reappeared with many monks at early matins in the uspenski cathedral, peremptorily ordered the officiating clergy to perform certain offices. the clergy at once apprised the tsar, who in turn ordered his boyards to command nikon to leave the cathedral. nikon pleaded that he had been instructed by jonas in a vision to act as he had done, but the tsar only repeated the command; he stated then that he had power to heal the sick, but the tsar was inflexible and nikon retired. at a council in he was formally deposed, and withdrew to a distant monastery where he continued his researches; he was pardoned by the tsar theodore in but died whilst on his journey to meet his sovereign. joachim, the succeeding patriarch, opposed nikon's innovations, and held tenaciously to the customary practice and attempted to stifle schism by persecuting relentlessly. he forbade catholics to worship, banished jesuits, barely tolerated calvinists and lutherans, and burned to death kullman the german mystic for proclaiming false doctrines. when he died in he besought peter to drive all heretics and unbelievers from russia--it is to him that peter erected the chapel on the srietenka. as in and earlier, the "old believers" had been cruelly tortured for not conforming to the innovations of nikon, more especially the unfortunate and obstinate boyarina morozov and her sister princess urusov, so with the change of the head of the church the people were condemned for such acts as they had previously been commended for performing, and now knew not whom to believe. with the accession of peter to sole power, and the enforcement by him of practices foreign to former habit, the people associated all his innovations with those purely clerical ones which had recently met with opposition and caused persecution and suffering. it was impossible to stamp out opposition, exile but spread the discontent. when peter quarrelled with the church, the clergy were unable to cope with the popular reaction against the innovations of nikon and his disciples. peter was at last induced to persecute the noncontents, but these, disgusted with his secular innovations, fled into distant parts of the country and even abroad, where for long they were politically an element of grave danger to the state, but, the rule of nikon was established and the old believers regarded as raskolniki, or dissenters. these, under persecution, and lacking adequate direction again split into two sections; one, the popovtsi, or those who acknowledge the priesthood and depend for their clergy upon schismatics from among the orthodox, who after ordination, find their practice preferable. they are quite insignificant in comparison with the bezpopovtsi, or those who do not have ordained priests, but are more powerful because united, whereas the bezpopovtsi number as many different brotherhoods as there are distinct dissenting sects in england. the best known among these are the _dukhobortsi_, who deny the divinity of the holy ghost, strongly oppose civil authority, refuse to pray for their sovereign or the head of the orthodox church, and consider death by starvation or fire, so long as it is self-wrought, to be the highest duty. nearly akin to them are the terrible _skoptsi_ or mutilators, and the fanatic _khlysti_, or flagellants, and many others. to the orthodox church all who are not _slavopravni_ are alike. the civil government has always discriminated between the harmless and those whose tenets are opposed to the welfare of the individual and to the commonwealth. the orthodox regard the discussion as terminated: the tsaritsa sophia herself was present in the granovitaia palace, at the discussions of the patriarch with the chief of the ras kolniks, a fanatic nikita. there were stormy scenes; at the close each sect claimed to have the right, and for long afterwards there were frequent discussions between the supporters of both parties, around the porch of the blagovieshchenski sobor. [illustration: church and gate of mary of vladimir] of the churches of the orthodox, the number in moscow is indeed great; add to these the cathedrals, the new xram, chapels, monasteries and convents, and the claim of moscow to its title of city of churches will not be questioned. it is quite impossible even to enumerate those worth seeing. instead take a typical street, say the nikolskaya in the busiest part of the commercial kitai-gorod. it contains the monastery of the images, za-ikono-spassky monastyr--once, , an academy; church of the virgin of kazan, interesting as founded in by prince pojarski; the nikolævski monastyr, greek, founded in , and in , with two churches; opposite it the old monastery of the epiphany, bogoyavlenni, founded in , with a church to boris and gleb and several others of lesser note--a large establishment with an extensive cemetery but the buildings of course modern. the synodalia typografiia; the printing house of the synod, founded in , the façade always painted a light blue, with the lion and unicorn, and other byzantine decorations, in white. then near the vladimirski vorot, the church to the virgin, dating from the time of the boy-tsars, ivan and peter, and opposite the second largest monastery, and most often used church in the kitai gorod, that of the trinity. in all eleven churches or chapels within less than yards--and that is characteristic of moscow. among other tserkvi well worth seeing are:-- _kitai-gorod._ in the varvarka: st barb, st george the martyr, st maxim the confessor, and the monastery of the resurrection. in the ilyinka: st nicholas of the great cross, st elias. also the holy trinity in the cherkassky, st anne in the zariadi, and of the virgin of georgia, but st ipatius is in the ipatievski, and st nicholas near the moskvretski bridge. _bielo-gorod._ the srietenka, built by john taylor; all saints, the transfiguration, and the manifestation. chapter x _moscow of the citizens_ "fair moscow crowned: now towering high and, seated on her throne of hills, a glorious pile from days gone by." dmitriev. peter "the great" who is credited with having created the history of russia did little for moscow, a town he, after his travels abroad, always despised and constantly distrusted. he evicted the last private owners from the kremlin, and spoiled its palaces and treasures, but took no measures to enhance its beauty or increase its wealth. it is customary to date progress and civilisation from his reign; an anonymous russian poet has even written: "russia and russia's strength lay hid in dreary night; god said 'let peter be'--straightway they burst to light," but, so far as moscow is concerned, his coming would be more truthfully regarded as of the nature of an eclipse than as the harbinger of light. probably his reputation is due to the prominence of his person in western europe--where it is customary to mistake renown for greatness--rather than his achievements. peter forsook moscow, left her to the church, which he served badly--and to her citizens, whom he treated even worse. benevolence was foreign to his character; he could not mould moscow to his ideal--if a passing whim can be so termed--but before he realised his impotence in this, he became brutal and fierce. he quarrelled with the church, cruelly ill used his wife--whom he forsook eventually, shamefully treated his blood-relations--even torturing his half-sisters himself, and was to his subjects such a father as he proved to his own unfortunate son alexis, who was done to death at his hands; in all these things behaving so savagely that even the strongest were awed into hypocrisy. the citizens of moscow considered themselves the children of the father of the people--the tsar who lived in the kremlin--who cared for them and never ceased to be anxious for their welfare. he alone was responsible for their direction, with him was the church, they knew not how to act independently. the streltsi, the fighting men, the armed citizens, were first of the moscow townsmen to act of their own initiative, but they were disciplined men who trusted their leaders--even when betrayed. peter exterminated the streltsi, the men who first of all his subjects had supported his claims and protected his rights; it is in connection with the streltsi that peter is most enduringly associated with moscow. the scenes of that long struggle were, for the most part, enacted outside the kremlin; in the kitai-gorod of the merchants, in the bielo-gorod of the freemen, in the sloboda of the foreign settlers, and the preobrajenski quarter where peter was reared. it is this moscow that has suffered most from the invader and from fire; its memorials of antiquity are few, those appertaining to peter the great and his time may be counted on the fingers of one mutilated hand. the most conspicuous marks are those of the church. continuing by that route indicated in the last chapter, on issuing by the valdimirski gate from the kitai-gorod, the road north is the big lubianka, running along the crest of the hill towards the old village of [illustration: srietenka--sdkharev bashnia] kuchko, long since incorporated with the town; on the right hand is the palace of that count rostopchin who ordered the destruction of moscow in ; on the left at the corner of the kuznetski most is the old church, set apart from time immemorial for the benediction of fruit. as an old writer states, "the mahommedans would as soon eat pork as a russian unconsecrated apples." further on, also on the left is the old monastery of the srietenka (meeting), founded by vasili dmitrivich in gratitude of the deliverance of moscow threatened by the tartars under tamerlane in ; rebuilt by theodore ii. and containing a chapel to the patriarch joachim, constructed by peter i. in . it has two other old churches, one dedicated to st nicholas, and the other to the egyptian virgin mary, neither of particular interest. this is a part of moscow longest inhabited by the peasant class, and continuing on past the boulevard, which marks the old wall of the bielo-gorod, the srietenka traverses the zemliaa gorod, or earthen town, until the sadovia is reached, where was once the by no means formidable rampart of the outer wall; beyond this the miaschanska continues the road to the kammer college earth rampart at the krestovski-zastava. beyond that is the highway to ostankina, the marina roshcha, and the village of mordva. the eighteenth church passed after leaving the grand square is dedicated to the trinity and is remarkable for a number of small shops within its walls, the windows but a couple of feet high and the ceiling so near the pavement that buyers have to stoop or kneel to bargain. an old order forbids that shops be within a church, and a more recent one, any without it. these being neither within nor without continue unmolested. in this district the streltsi were living at the close of the seventeenth century, and a little further on is the sukharev bashnia, peter's memorial to the fidelity of a regiment of the force he exterminated. it is a curious pile: an octagonal tower rises feet above the roadway over high archways and a large two-storeyed gallery above them. the beholder who is told that this is like a ship will possess the credulity of polonius if he assent; but actually peter modelled it as a ship to serve for the elementary instructions of his future sailors. as all know, peter derived his idea of ships from the dutch, but even that explains little and leaves much to the imagination. as remote is the connection of sukharev with ships and the sea, so if not exactly a suitable monument for an officer of moscow's soldiery it was what peter thought would serve his purpose better than any other design. its closest connection with ships is at present; as a water tower it is not wholly useless still. its architecture is not remarkable, a mixture of lombard with gothic that might have resulted from copying the vosskresenski gate and substituting a tall straight tower for the ornate gothic spires then the fashion in moscow. considered a ship--the tower is the mast, the rooms below are supposed to resemble the poop-deck and quarter-galleries of an old man-of-war. the entrance is by a flight of steps from the srietenka; in the large room a number of moscow youths were instructed in arithmetic by a scotch schoolmaster named farquharson, and two christ church scholars, gwynne and graves, whom peter held practically as prisoners there. sometimes these pupils were taken to st petersburgh to drive piles for foundations of the new town, at others they were exercised in elocution and deportment that they might the better represent comedies for the diversion of the court. the teachers of the school knew nothing of russian and the scholars only their native tongue--such was peter's way. unhappy the scholars [russian poetry in cyrillic letters][e] [e] "stolid, forlorn, mum and glum, being russian born--not deaf and dumb." it is said a lodge of freemasons used once to meet in a room of the tower, and there not only were "black arts" practised but peter convened secret meetings of the state council, a sort of star chamber. the society of "neptune" really consisted of lefort the swiss general, archbishop theofan, admiral apraxin, farquharson, bruce, and princes cherkassky, galitzin, menshikov, and sheremetiev. those in fact who were for westernising russia. the story of the streltsi and the part they played in the history of moscow is worth telling. they originated with the _oprichniks_ of ivan the terrible: transformed into a sort of hereditary militia, they fought for moscow when called upon, and in return were allowed to reside tax free, to trade, to keep shops, mills and ply various handicrafts. their commandants tried to make serfs of them. when some complained that the colonel of one regiment was keeping back half the pay, yazikov, the chief of the commanders, ordered these petitioners to be flogged so as to teach them not to complain of those in authority over them. three days before theodore ii. died, they accused griboiedov of extortion, cruelty and withholding pay and forcing them to work for him housebuilding, even during easter week. this complaint reached dolgoruki: he ordered the messenger to be flogged, but as the man was led away he called to his fellows, "brothers, i was but obeying your orders," thereupon they attacked the guard and released him. complaints became general: it was practically a revolt of the armed citizens the government had to fear. for the moment it yielded. griboiedov was ordered to siberia, but after only a day's imprisonment reinstated. the streltsi became alarmed. on the death of theodore they, among themselves, took the oath of fealty to peter. sophia and her advisers intrigued and split the streltsi. one regiment under sukharev remained faithful to the secret oath, to peter, the naryshkins and matvievs: the others demanded and received their colonels whom they flogged--griboiedov with the knout, the others with rods--their property was confiscated, and the claims of the streltsi paid. the sukharev regiment took peter and his mother to the troitsa monastery for safety, and it is in commemoration of this action that the tower was built. the real cause of the later conflict arose from a deeper trouble, the struggle for the throne between the children of alexis by his first wife, and peter the eldest of those by his second. ivan was weak, but his sister sophia, with her lover galitzin and a court following opposed to the innovations to be expected of naryshkins' friends, supported him most loyally. the streltsi insisted that peter should reign conjointly with ivan and carried their point, but sophia, as regent, was entrusted with certain powers. both princes were crowned in , but, owing to intrigues, the court was divided into two factions--the supporters of ivan and sophia, of peter and the matvievs. the khovanskis were accused of compassing the death of theodore, and beheaded. doubts as to peter's parentage were expressed; the trouble made previous to the marriage of natalia was remembered; others declared that peter was a changeling, really the son of dr van gaden. peter himself, according to the picture of his patron saint painted on a board his exact size on the day of birth, was then some twenty inches long by five and a half broad. moreover, there was a doggerel song of the period: "what luck, oh, what joy! to the tsar has been given a heir, aye, a boy! sent us from heaven! 'tis wondrous! 'tis rich! with laughter and mirth, great peter alexevich, first lord of the earth!" peter is said once to have met his reputed father, a rough haunter of taverns in the foreign suburb. throwing him roughly to the ground peter determined to learn whether or not he was his father. "_batuch ka!_ how should i know--i was not the only one," the fellow is reported to have answered; but it was only a stale and salacious witticism of the sort peter loved--certainly not evidence. the struggle was further complicated by camps of orthodox and dissenters. it was fought to the bitter end by sophia on behalf of her mother's children, against peter who was only her father's son; on behalf of herself too, for she had a lover, and no liking for the seclusion of the cloisters to which the daughters of the orthodox tsars were relegated because they were of too high birth to wed with their father's subjects, and their faith--which they were not allowed to relinquish--an effectual barrier to matrimony with a foreign prince. at first the revolt of the streltsi had little political significance beyond the fact that it was the forcible demand of a part of the citizens for common justice. for seven years sophia directed the affairs of state with more or less success; ivan was simply her tool, with peter she had greater trouble, and in , after a quarrel with her, he withdrew from moscow and went to troitsa. a large party followed him. sophia feared revolt and appealed to the people in an eloquent address of three hours' duration. "wicked people have sown the seeds of discord; have made my brother peter believe his life is in danger. do not credit such rumours. do not allow these to lead astray those faithful to the throne: they will torture such until they can no longer endure, and nine persons will denounce nine hundred. you know how i have directed the affairs of this state for seven years; have made a glorious peace with poland, and worsted in battle the turks and infidels; how i have always thought of your needs and striven for your welfare. as i have already done so shall i continue." sophia thought she had won over the crowd; instead this speech lost her the support of influential leaders. when galitzin left moscow there was a general rush of the people to peter; then her friends were seized by his order and she tried to escape to poland, but was captured and imprisoned in the novo devichi convent where she was forced to take the veil as susannah, and lived in strict confinement until . ivan was thrust aside; peter usurped the throne, his weakly half-brother surviving until . then peter married eudoxia lapukhin, daughter of a boyard. trouble next arose when peter, against the advice of nobles and clergy, went abroad and worked like a slave under foreign rulers; it was considered sacrilege of god's anointed so to do, and of its impolicy there were soon signs, and peter hurriedly returned to stamp out discontent. he had found a new love, one anna mons, a german in moscow, and would have married her but she slighted him and took one of her own countrymen; his wife he refused to see, accusing her of "certain thwartings and suspicions." he wished also for proof of sophia's connection with the discontent amongst the streltsi and people; in this, notwithstanding all his energy and cruelty, he was unsuccessful. "peter on his return reopened the inquiry, and fourteen torture chambers were conducted under his surveillance in the preobrajenski suburb. the fires were never allowed to burn down, nor the gridirons on which his victims were charred to become cool either by night or day. a most compromising letter from sophia to the streltsi is generally considered to be a forged document, made up of stray, incoherent scraps of information wrung from maddened creatures in the torture chamber. whereas fifteen blows with the knout were equal to a capital sentence, one of the streltsi was put to the torture seven times and received in all ninety-nine blows, yet confessed nothing. korpatkov, unable to bear his tortures, killed himself. others of the streltsi having been put to the strappado, flogged, and burnt without getting any accusations; the wives, sisters and female relatives of the streltsi were tortured; so were the ladies and sewing women in attendance on sophia. still no evidence was forthcoming. then sophia herself was put to the torture, peter doing the hangman's work. she never wavered in denying all connection with the movement. her younger sister, marfa, was then strung up in turn and all that could be learned of her was that she had apprised her sister sophia of the return of the streltsi to moscow and of their desire to see her rule re-established. peter was unwearying in his attendance in the torture chambers, and it is said [f] took a fiendish delight in the agony his own wrought cruelties produced on his relatives, but when he failed to obtain evidence he determined to punish indiscriminately. the executions of the streltsi, like those of ivan the terrible's victims, were in wholesale fashion. five were beheaded just outside the torture chamber by the tsar peter himself; the courtiers of his bodyguard he commanded to do the same, thinking doubtless they would enjoy the shedding of blood even as he did. two foreigners alone refused to comply with this order. some streltsi were crucified, impaled or hanged before sophia's windows in the novo devichi convent: but most were executed in the grand square under the wall of the kremlin, viz.:-- on sept. th, " oct. th, " " " th, " " " th, " " " th, " " " th, " " " th, " "on some occasions a tree was used as a block; the victims placed in rows along it, and their heads struck off by men of peter's new guard. others were hanged; as late as the heads stuck on pike points stood round the lobnoe mesto. in january came more enquiries, more tortures, more executions, and then the extermination of the streltsi determined upon. there was a break from to as peter required the remaining streltsi to aid in the wars against swedes and others, but after the revolt in astrakhan, the executions were renewed. stragglers and deserters from the corps, those related to them and who associated with them, were placed under a ban--they might not be employed by anyone; none might give them food, shelter, or assistance. they perished miserably. in such manner did peter exterminate the old muscovite militia." [f] _kostomarov_, vol. ii. p. . peter's cruelties, like those of ivan groznoi, did not pass unnoticed by the church. his treatment of the streltsi called forth a fierce denunciation from the patriarch adrian, who "beseeched him in the name of the mother of god to desist." "get thee home!" answered peter, "i know that i reverence god and his most holy mother; more, perhaps, than thou dost thyself. it is the duty of my sovereign office, and a duty i owe to god, to punish with the utmost severity crimes that threaten the general welfare." unfortunately the church had been deprived of its privilege of intercession for the life of one accused, and peter cared nought for the spiritual power of the church, as already stated. he even with his own hand killed two priests, but afterwards expressed contrition. the church regarded him almost as anti-christ; the citizens dreaded him and kept out of his way. "the nearer the tsar the greater the danger," a proverb of that time was believed in by all. peter had his proverb also, "the knout is no angel but teaches men to speak the truth," and even as ivan did, he went constantly in fear of conspiracies, chiefly dreading his own relations. eudoxia, now the nun helena in a convent at suzdal, was believed to have corresponded with dositheus an archimandrite who had predicted, or prayed for, peter's death. glebov was the intermediary in the matter; he was impaled; the prelate was broken on the wheel; a brother of the ex-tsaritsa was tortured and beheaded; thirty others were executed or exiled, and eudoxia herself flogged and confined in an isolated convent at new ladoga. peter, when there were no more conspirators, or accused, offered a bribe of six roubles to all who made secret accusations, and threatened with severe penalties any who held back information. the better to protect his informers from reprisals by the people, they went through the streets with their faces veiled, in order to search for those whose names they did not know, but whom they had overheard in indiscreet speech. the people hid away when "the tongue," as the masked informer was called, was abroad in the streets, and for days the city would appear to be quite deserted. "peter was hairless and decreed that those who could grow beards should not be allowed to wear them. ivan naumov was flogged because he would not shave; roubles was the ordinary fine for wearing a full beard, and many paid the tax repeatedly rather than submit to peter's order. these had also to wear a badge with the legend 'a beard is a useless inconvenience,' and pay a fine whenever passing the redeemer gate. there is a touch of irony in the fact that peter died of a chill which, may be, the full beard of a moscow _otets_ would have prevented. although peter was epileptic, he had no mercy for those who suffered similarly. a woman, who in addition to this infirmity was also blind, was put to the torture for disturbing a congregation. a tipsy man had thirty lashes with the knout for committing the like offence. a woman who found strange chalk marks on a barrel of beer in her cellar, knew not what they meant, nor did any one else; but she was put to the torture, and died under it because unable to decipher them. those whom peter wished specially to honour he made hangmen. an old boyard who liked not salad, as 'sour things did not agree with him,' was made to empty a large bottle of vinegar by peter; and a jewess in his company who declined to drink to the extent peter wished, was there and then beaten by him and made to drink much more." it was an unequal struggle: a powerful autocrat attempting to force a proud, stubborn people from the habits they had been taught to revere, from practices that had made their city great and beautiful. the more successful peter became the greater was the opposition. his courtiers wore wigs at court, as commanded, but even in the throne room removed them immediately peter was out of sight. after ten years peter knew that he could not conquer the muscovites though he might kill them. as late as , when he had ordered all ladies above ten years of age to appear at a reception, only seventy of the hundreds qualified did as commanded. at st petersburg it was different. there, no feeling of shame, no loss of dignity followed the, to moscow citizens, most ridiculous behaviour of westerns. peter's son alexis, the tsarevich, preferred moscow and muscovite customs: in him moscow trusted, and for this peter hated him. his friends wished him to enter a monastery until his father's death and then "as they cannot nail the cowl to one's head," throw it off and assume the crown. he did not, and his boast to forsake st petersburg and reinstate moscow enraged peter who, from that time, never ceased to search for conspiracies, prompted by, or on behalf of alexis, and persecuted his son unmercifully. as all knew the young man was lured to st petersburg by his mistress, who was lavishly rewarded for her perfidy by peter, and that there he was repeatedly put to the torture, more than once with peter himself as executioner, and that he died mysteriously one day after being "put to the question," _i.e._ tortured, earlier in the day by a party of whom his father was one. [illustration: st nicholas "stylite"] the matviev's lived in that part of the city just outside the kitai-gorod, where alexis had settled a number of little russians from the newly-acquired territory, the ukraine. the marosseika preserves the name of this settlement, and passing up it from the lubianski ploshchad, leaving all saints' church on the right, armianski, a street on the left, will soon be reached. there, a couple of hundred yards along, on the left is the old parish church of st nicholas, built by mikhail theodorovich, contiguous to the house of the matviev's and the tsarista natalia, where is now the tomb of the old voievode--a mean mausoleum, in the classic style. the church shows but few traces of western influence: it is of two storeys like most of the churches of the seventeenth century and is surrounded with a gallery, formerly open, but now glazed between the pillars. near by is the lazarev institute, for the study of eastern languages, and peeping over the trees will be seen the green domes and pink belfry of the monastery of st john chrysostom, with five churches of which the oldest was founded by ivan vasilievich in ; the entrance is from the zlato-ustinski pereulok. opposite the armianski is the kosmo-damianski pereulok, with the lutheran church founded in by the englishman horsey for the foreign colony. continuing along the marosseika, past the church of the assumption (p. ), an interesting church will be found on the right, that of the pokrovka (protection), and further along the same street, where it changes its name to the basmannia, the church of vasili ivanovich built in and reconstructed in , to which latter date its architecture belongs. turning into the sadovia on the left, in the furmanni pereulok, the second on the left, will be found the oldest large house in moscow, the residence of prince usupov, quite in the style of the early seventeenth century. the entrance is from the charitonievski boulevard, the next turning on the left. the whole of this district suffered much from the fires of past centuries and only such buildings as these isolated churches and houses in their own courtyards escaped the general conflagration. a little further along the sadovia is the "krasnoe vorot" or red gate to mark the old tower on the outer wall. it was built as a triumphal arch for the empress elizabeth on her coronation, when tables spread with viands for the people reached from there to the kremlin wall. the french made it a butt for musketry practice, using sacred ikons for a bull's eye. architecture of a different type is to be found in that residential quarter of the city between the kremlin and the prechistenka boulevard. behind the riding school is the mokhovaia, a street to which front both universities and the dom pachkov, an old mansion in which is stored the rumiantsev art collection and museum of antiquities. the entrance is in the vogankovski pereulok, near the znamenka.[g] it contains:-- [g] open daily, till ; free on sundays; kopecks entrance on other days. (_a_) foreign ethnological museum. (_b_) the dashkov ethnographical collection of slavic antiquities; life size figures of the races inhabiting russia; in another hall of slavic races inhabiting austrian and other adjacent lands. (_c_) mineralogical collection. (_d_) zoological collection; includes mammoth and muscovite and siberian fossils. (_e_) slav and christian antiquities, consisting mostly of early specimens of eastern iconography from mount athos, and archæological fragments. they are in four rooms on the _upper_ storey, and one ikon of mosaic is particularly interesting, as are also many of the specimens of byzantine and muscovite enamel and niello, including an eleventh century gold cross. (_f_) picture galleries.--copies of flemish, spanish, italian and other schools, and the pryanichnikov collection of russian artists, of which the best are: - by ivanov; , , chiernakov; , by repin; , , aviazovski, and - , chedrin. (_g_) manuscripts and early printed slav books, some very beautifully illustrated. this section is closed during july and august. (_h_) library of , standard works, and old prints and engravings. the russian school is seen to better advantage on the south side of the moskva river, in the tretiakov galleries (lavrushenski pereulok; open daily, to , except mondays; admission free, catalogue in french, kopeeks), a collection made by the brothers paul and sergius tretiakov, and now the property of the town. most of the pictures are modern by native artists; views of moscow and of the historical and interesting buildings in the town are by no means numerous. apparently russian artists have not yet discovered that the kremlin, as seen from across the river, is as good a subject as is the piazza san marco at venice, or any other hackneyed city scene in europe. most noteworthy among the paintings illustrating the history of moscow are:--the murder of alexis by ivan the terrible, by j. e. repin (no. ); a portrait of the same tsar, by v. n. vasnetsov (no. ); the execution of the streltsi, by b. j. surikov (no. ); st nikita, the impostor, before the tsarina sophia, by b. g. peroff (no. ), and the same tsarina in the novo devichi convent during the execution of the streltsi, by j. e repin (no. ). some of the ancient customs and costumes of moscow are represented in no. , a boyard wedding, by c. b. lebedev, and no. , the handsel of innocence, by polenov--an excellent specimen of this painter's best work, who does not show to advantage in his views of the terem (nos. - ) and church interiors (nos. - ). instructive also are the sketches nos. - , made by v. g. schwartz to illustrate count a. tolstoi's novel "prince serebrenni," and - , those made to lermontov's "bread seller." notable pictures taken from scenes in russian history are:--the battle of igor sviatoslaf's son against the polovsti (no. ), by v. m. vasnetsov; the "black council," held during the rebellion of monks at the solovetski monastery in , by s. d. miloradovich (no. ); peter the great questioning his son alexis, by n. n. gay (no. ); the emancipation of the serfs in , by g. g. myassoiedov (no. ), and no. , by c. d. flavitski, the imprisonment of princess tarakanov in the fortress of sts. peter and paul, during a rise of the neva--a sensational incident the truth of which was questioned and disproved, when this picture was exhibited at paris in . the incident represented in no. by n. b. nevref, the enforced taking of the veil by the princess usupov, was of such common occurrence in mediæval russia, that no question as to its possibility need be raised. some of the best of the war pictures of vereshchagin are in this collection, and other painters have contributed works illustrating the french invasion, and more recent events, in a style quite as original and striking as that of the russian artist best known in western europe. in all the subject appears to be far more suggestive and interesting than the craftsmanship. this is often weak, or worse, an unsatisfactory imitation of the most impressive methods of the modern french school. religious pictures are numerous and good: n n. gay is represented in forty-six works which include "the morning of the resurrection" ( ), "the remorse of judas" ( ), "the judgment" ( ), "golgotha" ( ), "what is truth?" ( ), and "christ in gethsemane" ( ). several of his studies of "christ on the cross" may be compared with the work of t. a. bronnikov, "campus scleratus" ( ). the conventional style of "ikon" painting is evident in nos. - by m. b. nesterov, more particularly in the pictures illustrating the life of st sergius. no. , by b. j. surikov, represents the boyarina morosov being removed from among the dissenting sect she did so much to establish. the lighter, merrier, and more general life of the russian people is shown in a far greater number of pictures. pryanichnikov has humour as well as style ( - ), in , maximov shows the arrival of the "wizard" at a village wedding; is an every day village scene representing the homage paid to the ikon on its visits; yarochenko ( ) shows the transport van with its exiles committed for life and the free birds of the air mocking them. repin depicts truthfully the happy life of the peasants; , a dance, , "the unexpected return," , st cene. in the same vein are also , lebedev "farings"; , korovin, the common council; , , answer of the zaporogians to mahomet's ultimatum; - , the second-hand market at moscow, and , an evening's amusement, are by v. g. makovski; the emigrants, no. , by s. b. ivanof, is depressing, but in madam a. l. rievski shows in "a moment of gaiety" the true character of the peasant. in the streets znamenka and vozdvigenka are some characteristic russian mansions of the eighteenth century, for it was then that this quarter, which had formerly been inhabited by palace servants and craftsmen, began to take a more aristocratic character. that of prince sheremetiev is the most bizarre; there also is the old [illustration: dom chukina] town hall and the foreign archives. in various parts of the town, even on the south side in the kaloujskaya, will be found modern mansions, that is, erected or rebuilt since the great fire, in the style of the moscow of the golden age. one of the best is the dom chukina near the tverskaya triumfalnia--a monument no visitor can escape seeing. but there is no long street without one or more buildings which attract the attention of the stranger by some idiosyncracy of form or colour. no matter in which direction one may go--in the bustling kitai-gorod, the quiet and aristocratic ostogenka, or the bourgeois zamoskvoretski--soon will be seen some interesting fane reaching above the buildings that flank the street, and a portal distinguished by its cross and ikon indicate the entrance to the sacred enclosure of some monastery, where, amidst leafy foliage and bright verdure, is quiet and seclusion like that of the oasis of the temple amidst the dreary turmoil of london's vastness. take that very ordinary street, the nikitskaya for example; it is wholly common place, wedged in between districts devoted to ordinary commerce, and the chilling respectability of moderate affluence, and leads nowhere in particular. yet even its name is interesting; did it obtain it from the worthy founder of the romanof dynasty? or from the religious fanatic who argued points of ritual with sophia and the patriarch? or from st nikita, the saint who shut up satan in a jar and released him only on stipulated and agreed conditions? it starts from the alexander gardens, the old western bank of the stream neglinnaia that once strengthened the defences of the kremlin; passes the entrance to the riding school, one of the great things moscow has produced since the fire of . the length of this building is feet, breadth , and its wooden roof, unsupported by perpendicular stanchions, was considered a wonder of the world, when alexander first manoeuvered infantry, and cavalry beneath it. then come the universities, the old and the new, one on each hand; beyond, on the left, is the nikitsky monastery, enclosing four churches, one dating from the founding of the monastery in , at the end of the "golden age." on the opposite side is the academy of science, on this the conservatorium, facing it a quaint old church of primitive architecture and diminutive size; above its lowly belfry rears the square brick-built tower of an english church. the house of a boyard here, of a prince there, bear names of note in moscow's history, as gagarin, galitzin, chernichev, designate the owners of the houses on either side, and of the side streets to right and left. the further from the kremlin, the centre, the more frequent and greater the inducement to turn aside to inspect more closely the glittering and gaudy domes of churches, old and new, which are thickly sprinkled over the whole district. nor can the stranger easily do amiss whichever way he turns. if towards the left, a curious lofty belfry of open masonry will repay careful scrutiny, and reveal close by other domed and pinnacled temples, lost amidst this multitude of white walls and luxuriant verdure. if to the right, two churches in close proximity, of unique design and, probably, oppressive colouring, will encourage to further explorations in the same direction. the oldest churches in the neighbourhood of the arbat are, boris and gleb, ; tikhon, the wonder-worker, ; but the church of the transfiguration is one of the most beautiful. in the povarskaya, is that of st simon stylite, , and near, another interesting church--rojdestvenka. probably moscow does not charm so strongly by reason of any particular building or style as by the great diversity of its houses and churches, both in design and colouring. more especially in those quarters where the wooden log-houses still linger in their gardens, and where the frame-houses are all made gay with white, cream, blue-gray, yellow and pink body colour, and the roofs of dark green or still darker crimson; there moscow seems to belong to another world. it is, alas, disappearing fast, and the spacious courtyards, with their trees and the gardens gay with giant lilacs and golden-chain, are being built on, and houses that stand shoulder to shoulder in plain and hideous uniformity level up the largest village to the standard of a modern town made in germany. there is another aspect of moscow which the summer visitor can never know. that comes when the thermometer falls from its summer _average_ of . ° f. to its winter average of ° f. this difference of ° explains much that appears wanton in the architecture of buildings great and small; accounts for the galleries round the outside of the churches, for the extensive vestibules; for thick walls, still thicker roofs, and great spouts; for the plain surfaces and lack of projecting decorations, gargoyles and angular mouldings; for the distempered walls, which alone successfully stand the biting frosts of winter and the blistering summer sun. with the change to winter temperature a great quiet comes over the town, wheeled traffic is stopped, sledges glide over the frozen roads, and from the windless sky the great snowflakes can ever be seen idly and slowly floating in their long and leisurely descent to earth. a reddened sun appears for a short time each day in a leaden sky, and moscow lives, is more active, more itself, than when the light of summer decks its walls and pinnacles in holiday garb. but at whatever season studied, moscow will reveal traces of the past; will show that she has long smiled under the summer sun of good fortune and been wrinkled by the winter of adversity; scorched, too, by the volcanic fire of her own excesses, but now staid, hoary, strenuous, and of surprising vitality in all--[russian in cyrillic letters]. chapter xi _ancient customs and quaint survivals_ "the customs are so quainte as if i would describe the whole i feare my penne would fainte." g. turberville ( ). strange and unaccountable to the men of the elizabethan age were the manners and customs of the muscovites; at this day, some of the things these early visitors minutely described seem scarcely credible. in many ways the life of the old boyards was not unlike that of their tsar. they fought and worshipped and maintained state; bought, sold and sought wealth even as he did. there remain at least two old houses of boyards in moscow. one, the potieshni dvorets in the kremlin, formerly the dwelling of the miloslavskis, is at the present time chiefly useful as indicating the architecture of a russian house in mediæval times; and that only so far as the exterior is concerned, for the internal arrangements have been so many times altered as to bear now but little resemblance to a typical dwelling of the seventeenth century. the other house, the palata romanovykh, or dom romanof, was at one time the dwelling of the romanof family and has been restored to as nearly as possible resemble the state in which it was when the tsar michael was elected to the throne in . it is situated in the varvarka, contiguous to the spot on which the english factory stood, and in addition to being a museum of minor antiquities serves well to illustrate some of the habits of the nobles of moscow in the sixteenth century, for the house belonged to nikita romanof, grandfather of the tsar michael, who himself gave the house in which his own father was born to the adjoining monastery. incorporated with those buildings, it shared their vicissitudes; was injured by fire repeatedly, altered, added to, then spoiled and sacked by the french. it is not a large house: the frontage to the varvarka is scarcely sixty feet and built on sloping ground it presents but one storey to this street. the principal entrance was from its own courtyard, where the south front presents four storeys looking over the moskva (_v._ page ). the ground floor is of undoubted antiquity; brick built, plastered and painted. on this foundation is reared the wooden house in the true russian style. the low clock tower over the entrance has for a weather vane, a griffin, the arms of the romanofs; the windows are small, ogival, and glazed with mica panes. it is impossible that in so small a house there could have been any accommodation for the multitude of retainers and body servants a boyard had always about his house. these lived in separate dwellings around the courtyard. the ground floor of russian houses consisted of cellars and storerooms. in these vaults were kept: wine, mead, kvas, ice, frozen and salted meats and fish. the next storey in this house consists of kitchens and domestic offices--in a house not built upon sloping ground, these would be on the ground floor. the first floor, the _bel étage_, which, in all old russian buildings--houses, churches and shops--is reached by steps very similar to those from the courtyard to the varvarka street level in the dom romanof. [illustration: krestovaia in the dom romanof] entering the vestibule from the varvarka, on the right are two small rooms, one for the use of attendants the other now fitted as a nursery, but undoubtedly originally an ante-chamber. the largest room on this floor is called _krestovaia_, or chamber of the cross. it was the state-room. here the boyard received the priests who came at easter-tide, christmas, and other feasts and on special occasions to offer congratulations or perform sacred offices. the roof is vaulted, and, in addition to the niches seen in the walls, there are secret recesses for the concealment of treasure. in the "sacred corner" is an ancient ikon, and on the table before it, covered with a rich persian cloth, are two crosses. the stand, or mountain, was the rack on which, upon all solemn or festive occasions, the family plate was displayed. among the old treasures preserved here are a cocoa-nut shell mounted as a drinking-cup, and various other curious drinking-cups, bowls, and vases; an equestrian statuette, silver-gilt, of charles i., a gift from that monarch to the tsar michael; two ewers presented by charles ii.; a silver salt cellar, and a _puisoir_ presented by martha ivanovna, wife of the patriarch, to her son the tsar in . no doubt it was in this room that the great banquets given by the boyard took place, but ordinarily the boyard would eat in his own apartment, his wife in hers. from this room a doorway leads to the private room of the boyard. this "study" is heated by a stove of coloured tiles, variously ornamented and bearing quaint inscriptions and designs, as a tortoise, "there is no better house than one's own"; doves, "fidelity unites us." the cases contain some of the personal attire and weapons of the early boyards and their descendants, as: a silk mantle, some swords and daggers, a staff, the sceptre of the tsar michael, riding-boots, walking-sticks, and the like. the high narrow-heeled riding-boots are very curious, so too, on the copper inkstands, as antique in appearance as those of chaucer's day, will be seen the lion and unicorn, a byzantine device often found in russia. there is also a low seat used for writing, for the russian placed the paper upon his knees, not on a table; his lines were not straight, and much good paper was wasted. there is an oratory communicating with this four-windowed apartment, also two rooms used as nurseries; one for boys, the other for girls. in these close, small rooms the children were reared, for it was the habit of the russians not only to hide their children from all strangers, but to keep them from all but their most intimate friends and relatives. a small doorway leads to a steep narrow staircase communicating with the top storey, the _terem_ or women's apartments, consisting of a reception room, a bed-chamber and turret; from these rooms the nursery may also be reached by a still narrower staircase. the walls of the reception room are covered with stamped leather, the woodwork is carved in high relief, the stiff benches round the wall have stuffed seats and are covered with brocade. there are a number of old coffers and close wardrobes, also some curious clothing is displayed in cases. the four-post bedstead cannot be considered a native institution. it is peculiarly scandinavian. the english adopted it from the danes; the english reintroduced it into russia, finding that the russians themselves slept either on the stove, or on an eastern divan. more than once the early english ambassadors to russia have complained that bedsteads were lacking, and it was long before their use became general. the boyards kept their women folk hidden away in the _terem_ in almost eastern seclusion. jenkinson states that "the women be very obedient to their husbands, and are kept straitly from going abroad but at some seasons." other travellers write that the women are hardly used by their husbands, who beat them unmercifully; "and the women, though young and strong, never resent even if the husband be old and weak." herberstein relates that a foreigner in moscow married to a russian woman was upbraided by his wife because he never beat her as russian husbands did their wives, and that he then beat her to please her; but as subsequently he cut off her legs, and finally her head also, the story is worth nothing as evidence of a custom. sylvester in his "domostroi" says a wife ought never to take the title of lady, but always to look on her husband as lord. she was to concern herself only with household affairs, and might be treated like a slave; only the husband is enjoined "not to use a too thick stick, or a staffe tipped with iron, nor to humiliate unduly by flogging before men." out of doors she was carried in a shuttered litter, and she wore the _fata_ or veil; a special part of the church was assigned women, but the wives and daughters of the boyards usually worshipped in their own private chapels, and went to the cathedrals but upon special and state occasions. then it was that suitors caught a glimpse of their future brides, and received glances which bespake love. as among eastern nations, the bridegroom usually did not see his wife before marriage. when the preliminaries had been arranged and settled by third parties, the bridegroom sent a present of sweetmeats and a whip to his bride elect, who always spent the night before the marriage ceremony at the house of the bridegroom's parents. on the day of the marriage he put into one of his boots sweetmeats or a trinket, into the other a whip; the newly wedded wife took off the boots, and to remove first that which contained the trinket was considered the omen of a happy life for the woman. "but if she light on the boot with a whip in it, she is reckoned among the unfortunate and gets a bride-lash for her pains, which is but the earnest penny of her future entertainment." there were also other little passes during the complex ceremony, the winning of any indicating the mastery during wedded life. such was the woman's lot in the seventeenth century, but much was done to better it before peter the great introduced western freedom. collins wrote in :-- "the russian discipline to their wives is very rigid and severe, more inhuman in times past than at present. yet three years ago a moscow merchant beat his wife as long as he was able, with a whip two inches round, and then caused her to put on a smock dript in brandy, to which he set fire, and so the poor creature perished miserably in flames. yet none prosecuted her death, for there is no law against killing a woman, or slave, if it happens on correction. some of these beasts will tie up their wives by the hair of the head and whip them stark naked. now parents make better matches for their daughters, obliging husbands to contract to use them kindly, without whipping, striking or kicking them." even peter's code was cruel: it was during his reign that le bruyn saw a woman executed in moscow by being buried alive; covered up to her neck in the dank black soil she lived but two days, whereas, on the same authority, there were others who lingered ten or more. in russia, as in countries further west, the crime of petty treason, the murder of a husband, was considered almost as heinous as high treason, and punished accordingly. kept closely confined to a small apartment, living almost always in heated rooms the russian ladies had fair complexions; "white cream-and-snow tinged with the faint hue of the inside of a camellia" one poet describes it. others are not so generous; turberville writes: "to buy her painted colours, doth allowe his wife a fee wherewith she deckes herselfe, and dyes her tawny skin; she prankes and paints her smoakie face, browe, lippe, cheeke and chinne." all writers complain that the women painted without art; many blacked their teeth, and stained their nails with henna, a custom which obtained with the wives of russian merchants to the present century. so, too, after peter the great forced women from the seclusion of the _terem_, it was the custom of ladies to present to each other in public their paint boxes, even as in the west men offered snuff. it was not until after the french invasion that this custom died out, and pushkin endeavoured to advance the new order by deriding the practice and ridiculing the english governors who followed it. on the other hand, a lady of the court who, much to the chagrin of others, refused to paint her face, was compelled to do so by order of the tsar, to whom complaint had been made. as women were free in the russia of the norsemen, the seclusion in the _terem_ was either a custom adopted from byzantium or, more probably, a precautionary measure to protect them from tartar invaders. the purpose of these invasions has already been stated, and as on one foray the tartars are reported to have taken away , captives from russia, the hiding of women and children in portions of the dwellings to which men at no time had access was doubtless considered to enhance their chances of escape during the temporary absence of the master in the front of the battle; and from being a temporary retreat it became the ordinary living apartments. but the custom was a town one; not practised by villagers. the russians were largely flesh eaters, meat and fish constituted the diet not only of the well to do but of the peasants. in the north le bruyn found the natives feeding even their beasts on fish, and ysbrant noted the same practice among the inhabitants east of the ural. jenkinson found that the muscovites had "many sortes of meates, and delight in eating gross meates and stinking fish." brandy was served round before eating commenced, a custom that still obtains and was originally derived from the norsemen. collins states that horse-flesh was forbidden; also hare, rabbit, and elk. at some seasons veal was forbidden; any thing sweetened with sugar, or candy, on fast days; and, at all times, dishes flavoured with musk, civet and beaver. the chief dish at a banquet given to herberstein was of swan, served with sour milk, pickled gherkins and plums. there was abundance of corn, and some of the commoner vegetables; the fruits were insipid; except filberts, herberstein found none of the sweeter kinds of fruit or nuts. water melons were grown and then, as now, the russians fed upon many different kinds of fungus; some thirteen varieties found in the neighbourhood of moscow are edible, but the russian regards as scarcely wholesome the only mushroom eaten in england. tea was known to the russians of the middle ages; some quaint samovars are preserved in the dom romanof, but the medieval russ found his greatest pleasure in drinking mead, brandy and strong liquors. before drinking it was the custom to blow in the cup; to guests and strangers wine was offered by, or on behalf of, each member of the host's family, in small cups or glasses, then, to conclude, a huge cup filled to the brim from which it was the correct etiquette to take but a sip. in sylvester's "domostroi" the correct etiquette for masters and servants is set forth. at table the diner may "blow his nose, must spit without noise, take care to turn away from the company, and put his foot over the place." instead of advising the lord to sell old slaves and cattle, as cato told the romans to do, sylvester requires that old servants who are no longer good for anything must be "fed and clothed, in consideration of their former services." then, for the servant; "when a man sends his servant to honest people, he should on arriving knock softly at the door of the grand entrance; when the slave comes to ask what he wants, he must reply 'i have nought to do with thee, but with him to whom i am sent.' he must say only from whom he comes, so that the man may tell his master. on the threshold of the chamber he will wipe his feet on the straw. before entering he will blow his nose, spit and say a prayer. if no one calls _amen!_ to him, he will say another prayer; if there is still no answer, a third prayer in a louder voice. if still no answer, he may then knock at the door. on entering he must bow before the sacred ikon; then he will explain his errand: he must not touch his nose, or spit, or cough; look neither to right nor left." the tsars derived much revenue from a _cursemay_ or drinking tavern in each town, which was let out to tenants or bestowed upon some courtier for a year or two, "then, he being grown rich, is taken by the tsar and sent to the warres again, where he shall spend all that which he hath gotten by ill means, so that the tsar in his warres is little charged, but all the burden lieth on the poor people." jenkinson writes: "at my being there, i heard of men and women that drunk away their children and all their goods at the tsar's tavern, and not being able to pay, having pawned himself, the taverner bringeth him out to the highway, and beates him upon the legs; then they that pass by, knowing the cause and peradventure, having compassion upon him, giveth the money, so he is ransomed." during carnival there were many deaths due to excessive drinking and the extreme cold, for it was then that all had licence to drink and make merry. the tsar vasili ivanievich ( - ) gave permission to some of his courtiers to drink at any time, but in order that their habits might not corrupt the people they had to live apart in a special suburb, which was appointed them on the south side of the river, where for a time all the dwellers were known by the name of nali or "drinkers." "folke fit to be of bacchus train, so quaffing is their kinde, drinke is their sole desire, the pot is all their pride; the sob'rest head doth once a day stand needful of a guide, and if he goe into his neighbour as a guest, he cares for little meat, if so his drinke be of the best." turberville, . the muscovites knew not how to dance. at their merrymakings they made tartars and poles dance to amuse them; their music was obtained from brass hunting horns, trumpets, cymbals and the bagpipes. kotoshin states that the boyards were "dull, ignorant men, who sit in silence, stroking their beards and making no reply to anything said to them." the common people amused themselves on the "sway" or sea-saw; they loved to assemble in crowds and to sing and drink together. some were drawn up and down in chairs, others went round and round in flying-chairs affixed to wheels pivoted, some perpendicularly, others horizontally; in short, the prototypes of the "merry-go-rounds" and "high-flyers" of pleasure fairs in britain and elsewhere. in winter they sped down ice hills on their small sledges (tobogganing), and few only took pleasure in field sports, trapping birds and animals being part of the business of the lives of most; coursing and falconry the privilege of the tsar and his suite. in winter when the boyard stirred out of doors it was always in his sledge, where he lay upon a carpet in the skin of a polar bear. the sledge was drawn by a single horse "well decked," a little boy astride its back, and servants of the boyard stood upon the tail of the sledge. as traders they had an unenviable reputation. "the people of moscow are more cunning and deceitful than all others, their honour being especially slack in business contracts--of which fact they themselves are by no means ignorant for, whenever they traffic with foreigners, they pretend, in order to attain greater credit, that they are not men of moscow but strangers." the market was in the kitai gorod. there the foreign merchants had their warehouses, and for centuries a gostinnoi dvor, not unlike the bazaar of stamboul, occupied the site of the recently erected new rows (novi riadi), but even at the present day the picturesque is not extirpated from the wholesale market. the starai gostinnoi dvor has quite a charm of its own, and the adventurous sightseer who, not content with passing through it from the ilyinka, turns off into the alleys furthest from the krasnoe ploshchad towards the wall of the kitai-gorod, will see curious courtyards having large galleries around them; huge hatch-ways communicating with the vast vaults and stores below. quaint shops line the wall of the kitai-gorod from the varvarka gate right up to the nikolskaya; with a sort of permanent rag fair at that end, where, too, from the introduction of printing, the stalls and shops of the booksellers have been located. another surviving market for miscellaneous articles--from old ikons and bludgeons to picked up trinkets and immense samovars--is held from six o'clock till noon on sunday mornings around the sukharev bashnia. from time immemorial a great fair for frozen fish and game has been held outside the kitai-gorod wall as soon as winter's frost sets in. in this commercial district are various old churches of interest and, in the cherkassky pereulok, the place of legal combat for those who justified their cause by an appeal to strength and skill. [illustration: wall of the kitai-gorod. varvarka vorot] in the administration of justice much was lacking, the principle of the paternal rule of the sovereign necessitating direct appeal by means of a petition. later, a _prikase_ or office of direction was established, and this was followed by others empowered with the control of affairs relating respectively to carmen, siberia, criminals, etc. as in all countries, misdemeanours against the property or liberties of individuals was regarded as a matter for personal redress by the party aggrieved; only those against the crown called for the active interference of the sovereign through his body-guard. the use of torture and some western methods of judicial procedure were introduced by sophia palealogus and the italians who followed her, and were grafted upon native customs. in the reign of ivan the terrible, legal procedure was as follows:-- "when any dispute arises they appoint, in the first place, the land owners to act as judges, and these if unable to settle the dispute, refer the case to a higher magistrate. the complainant asks the magistrate for leave to summon his adversary to court; the leave granted, he calls an attendant (sergeant), cites the accused and hurries him along to the court. the attendant keeps scourging the man about the shins with the knout, until he can bring forward someone who on his behalf can satisfy the law. if he has no friend to go bail for him, the sergeant, grasping him by the neck, drags him along and subjects him to blows, until before the court to plead his cause. if it be a suit to recover a debt, the defendant is asked by the magistrate whether he is in debt to the plaintiff, and replies that he is not in his debt. then the judge asks, 'in what form can you make denial!' the defendant answers, 'upon my oath.' thereupon the sergeant is forbidden by the magistrate to administer further blows, until the evidence makes the case clearer. "the muscovites are exempt from a great curse to a community, in that they have no pettifogging lawyers. every man conducts his own case, and the plaint of the pursuer and defence of the accused are submitted to the prince in the form of written petitions, craving for a just sentence at his hands. when each party has supported his case with all the arguments available, the judge asks the accuser whether any arguments remain. he answers that he himself, or his champion for him, will, with a strong hand, make good his accusation on the person of his opponent, and he further demands leave to engage with him in single combat. liberty to fight is accorded both disputants, who rush simultaneously to the onset. but if one or both be not strong enough to fight, they engage professional pugilists as substitutes. these men enter the lists armed, chiefly with a war-club and a hunting-pole. the fighting is on foot. he whose champion is beaten is cast at once in prison, where he is most shamefully treated, until he ends his dispute with his enemy. if of high rank it is not allowed to get proxies. if a poor man has incurred a debt, and is unable to pay, the creditor carries him off and makes him labour for him, yea he even lets out his services on hire to someone else, until by his labour he fills up the amount of his debt." harry best, an englishman, made good his claim against a defaulter in a trial by combat, which resulted in an immediate petition by the muscovites to the tsar, to forbid foreigners engaging in the lists with citizens. as for criminals: thieves were imprisoned and knouted but were not hanged for a first offence; for a second offence, a thief lost the nose or an ear and was branded on the forehead; the third offence was punished with crucifixion, which was a customary penalty long after the days of ivan iv. impalement in various ways was also practised; heretics were burned; false-coiners boiled in oil; during winter the condemned were thrust under the ice and drowned. the long category of barbarous punishments borrowed from the west, being minutely followed in addition to excisions, amputations, mutilations and cruelties of local origin. one of these may be mentioned, "the death by , pieces," when the condemned was cut away bit by bit and the parts seared to prevent death by hæmorrhage before it was necessary to attack a vital part. another form of it was to insert a hook under a rib and pull the bone out of the side--the muscovite equivalent of the western method of extorting money from jews by the extraction of tooth after tooth. ivan "groznoi" practised even worse cruelties. the widow of one of his victims he put astride a coarse rope and drew her to and fro upon it until sawn through--in this rivalling the excesses of enthusiastic religious persecutors in the netherlands. more refined was his fiendish practice of hanging in the doorway of a boyard's house his wife, child, or some other loved one of the boyard, then compel the man to go to and fro past the corpse that day by day became more repulsive. worse even than this did ivan "groznoi," the cruel tsar, but his worst need not be mentioned unless, at some future time, men name him not the "terrible," but call him the "great." in the days of peter the great men were still impaled or crucified; were burned in small pens filled with straw; were beheaded on a block and "hanged as elsewhere." le bruyn says, one day he saw a man burned alive, and in another part of the town a woman buried, with small tapers burning near her; and "all executions with such silence, that what takes place at one end of the town is unknown at the other." afterwards, were such barbarities as the empress elizabeth ordered to be inflicted upon the boyarina lapunof, and still later such cruelties as the countess soltikov exercised on her serfs. in fact the tale of moscow's woe was not told until the advent to the throne of that greatest of dead tsars, alexander ii., the true reformer of russia. in the olden days the bearers of too illustrious names were forbidden to marry; others might not marry without permission first obtained; leave was necessary before one could carry arms. in times of peace it was unusual for weapons to be worn, a staff shod with steel took the place of sword or dagger, the voievodes only wore side arms generally. trade was the privilege of the tsar, and those to whom he granted the right; pen work was always done by humble secretaries or _diaks_--in the end they became the masters, rather than the servants of their employers. in their bearing towards their superiors, ecclesiastic and secular, the russian was abject in his deference; the customary mode of address being similar to that of the east. in byzantium the petitioner prostrated himself and called, "may i speak and yet live?" in moscow the russ cried, "bid me not to be chastised, bid me speak, i the humble, etc.," and in russian a petition, literally, is a "beating of the forehead" before superiority. peter the great did much to discourage the abject prostration of his subjects before the property of the crown, but as late as the reign of the emperor nicholas some serfs were compelled to uncover when passing any mansion of their lord, whilst other nobles expressly forbade it. the church never expressly forbade prostration before sacred objects as peter did before secular property, so in that, the old custom survives. but it is probably owing to the earlier use, and not particularly to the image of our saviour over the spasski gate, that it is customary still to uncover when passing to or from the kremlin by the state entrance. for in russia when a practice has been once enjoined by a person in authority it will be continued until expressly forbidden. it is said that many years ago a distinguished visitor to one of the royal residences inquired why it was thought necessary to station a sentry in the centre of a grassplot in the pleasure grounds. it was then discovered that once upon a time, a tsaritsa, long deceased, had noticed an early snow-drop budding forth at that spot, and expressed her wish that the flower should be protected. to ensure its safety a sentry mounted guard, and so for many years, day and night, in all seasons, a sentry continued to be posted there; for, although the circumstances had been forgotten, the order was conscientiously obeyed. the rites of the orthodox church are not subject to change, and the ceremonies of to-day are practically the same as they were centuries ago. one of the most characteristic is connected with the periodical removal of some sacred picture from its ikonostas to a special service in a church dedicated to some other saint, or associated with a particular episode in the life of our saviour. after a preliminary service, the ikon is taken down and reverently borne away by the priests appointed, attended by prelates, deacons, acolytes, choristers and the bearers of "standards." these standards--_znamia_, literally "token"--are akin to the banners of the western church; they are of diverse form, usually of metal, adorned with gems, and always have either a representation of a saint or some sacred symbol upon them. some are but a fit setting to a small ikon; many are beautiful specimens of metal work, others are of curious design, all are attractive; and when, sometimes to the number of a hundred or more, they are carried aloft through the streets of the old town, they add greatly to the stateliness of an impressive pageant. it is on such occasions as these--and they are many--that the attitude of the people towards their church may be studied with advantage, and the beholder will realise how strong is the affection of the orthodox for all that pertains to their religion. the great reverence shown the symbols, the fervour and sincerity of the greeting, are convincing evidence of deeply-rooted belief, simple piety and existing close relations between the church and people. in short, a procession of this kind does more than suggest the religious phase of mediævalism, it is a revelation of its actual potency. easter is of course the great festival; then the great bell of moscow thunders forth that christ has risen, and the people embrace each other and with pious glee call "vosskresenni khristos" much as in the west acquaintance greet each other with good wishes at the new year. students of comparative ecclesiasticism cannot afford to miss witnessing the celebration of the feast in moscow any more than they can that in rome. on trinity sunday not only are the churches strewn with newly cut herbage and decorated with budding branches, but all houses "sport greenery"--it is a combination of the old time customs of may-day and yuletide in the west. the sacred ikons figure in all ceremonies, and private individuals in times of distress requisition them. they are conveyed with considerable pomp to the bedside of the dying, or to the homes of the fortunate, pious in their rejoicing. the church is all inclusive and makes no distinction; is as ready to comfort the most notorious sinner as it is the devout communicant of irreproachable rectitude and honour. the ikon most desired is that known as the iberian mother of god, whose chapel stands before the vosskresenski gate. close by a carriage and six remains in attendance, and usually towards evening it starts forth on long journeys across the town, its round often unfinished when morning dawns. its place on the ikonostas is filled by a copy, but the original is at once restored on its return. men uncover as the carriage passes by; those near, when it is carried to or from a house, prostrate themselves or attempt to kiss it, some endeavour so to arrange that the picture must be carried over them. another ikon in request is that kept at the vladimirski vorot; all have great homage paid them. priests, drivers, attendants, are uncovered, even in the depth of winter; and to be appointed to any post in connection with it is counted a great honour. it is said that the offerings of the thankful in return for the privileges conferred by "visiting" have amounted to as much as £ , in a single year in respect of one picture alone. this money is part of the church revenue--the servants attending with the ikon receiving presents in addition. [illustration: a chastok] originally the private ikon was a picture of the patron saint of its owner. as every day in the year is a saint's day, the saint of the day on which a person happened to be born was considered his patron; often he took that saint's name, if some other were chosen then the recipient must be christened on the day assigned to that saint, and thus the "name" day is distinct from the birthday and is observed, whilst the anniversary of one's birth may or may not be celebrated. often, indeed usually, an ikon of the virgin now occupies the "sacred corner." it is so placed that it must be visible on entering the room and receive the obeisance of the orthodox; it is also, as it were, to be a witness of all that takes place before it. to do anything wrong in the presence of an ikon makes the fault the greater; persistent evil-doers screen the ikon before wilfully transgressing. it was even made one of the charges in the indictment of the false tsar dmitri that he neglected to veil the ikon the day of his marriage. to western minds such an attitude is as incomprehensible as the action related in one of tolstoi's stories, of the pious peasants who, about to murder their offspring, knelt reverently by the hole they had made in the ice and prayed to god that he would protect and bless them. but the russian understands. the private ikon, or some other sacred picture, always precedes the corpse at the funerals of the orthodox. the obsequies of the wealthy are still conducted with great pomp; the modern practice of hiding the coffin beneath wreaths and crosses being combined with the more austere solemnities of a statelier age. the church of st sophia, on the south side of the moskva, opposite the kremlin, is much used in connection with military funerals and those of a public character. the peasant's coffin is simply covered with a pall, and the bier carried through the streets shoulder-high, with no other pomp than the ikon reverently borne some paces ahead of the cortege. the hands of the dead one are closed over a paper on which is printed a prayer for the repose of his soul, the deceased's baptismal name being written in, and this is the only justification for the assertions of the early writers that "the russ when he dies hath his passport to saint nicholas buried with him." if it is the practice to decorate the ikon with presented jewels, it was not only counted a sin but a crime to take any back again. collins says that the punishment for so doing was the loss of a hand, as befell a woman "who thought she had but lent to the image" she favoured. with the private ikon "they do as they will, decorating the ikon one day and with the same tawdry themselves the next," an indication that the ignorant peasant may treat his ikon much as the west african negroes treat their fetiches. a common object in moscow of to-day is the watch-tower or chastok, where night and day sentinels patrol on the look out for fires, not nowadays so frequent or so disastrous as formerly, since the erection of wooden houses within the town limits has been forbidden. in summer, when the signal is run up on the staff, numerous one horse drays, each with a small barrel of water, hurry to the scene and in somewhat primitive fashion attempt to quench the conflagration. if a wooden house the fire usually subsides when the roof with its thick layer of earth between rafters and plates collapses. dearly paid for experience has taught the muscovite how the spread of fires may best be stopped where water is scarce and hydrants far distant. primitive and mediæval in many things, moscow reveals how the people of long past ages overcame the difficulties incidental to life in large cities, and a great fire will bring together such an array of water carts as will convince the beholder of the very thorough organisation of a department charged with the duty of safeguarding public safety. even the vehicles exhibit a survival from mediævalism since each horse is harnessed beneath a _duga_ or piece of bent wood intended to strengthen the shafts, as it is by them alone the load is hauled, and traces are unknown. the _duga_, just as it is to-day, was used with the first wheeled vehicles introduced to russia and will persist for aye. but the observant stranger will not lack entertainment in moscow, especially if he shows generous toleration of primitive customs. if a house be building, the simple and superstitious working man, his original intention being now directed by the church to a manifestation of piety, will first raise above all the scaffolding a well made, often decorated, cross, so seeking a blessing from the good by the same sign that his early ancestors sought to appease the powers of evil. the carter, whose horse drops with heat sickness, will get the animal on his legs again and cause him three times to cross the _duga_ he purposely places thwartwise. to those versed in symbols an act as easy to understand as the every day remedy of the kitchenmaid who puts the poker across the bars of the grate to prevent the newly lighted fire from being extinguished--a not commendable practice yet effective epithem. sprite ridden the moscow peasant is still, but though "it" moves him to do many things of which he knows not the reason, merely obeying the prompting intuitively, he has forgotten what this "it" is that must be appeased. a bridge, a girder cantilever across a wide estuary or a couple of planks across a ditch, is not finished till some trifle has been cast into the water, in this the mujik being not unlike the skipper of a grimsby trawler who tosses a new coin into the ocean before lowering his net. the enthusiast may attempt to trace the direct connection between baksheesh, nachai, and the extortion of gratuities generally, with the ancient practice of trifling sacrifices to some mythical demon; both old as the offer of a cock by socrates to Æsculapius, and world-wide as the application of a door-key to the spine as a cure for nasal hæmorrhage. in such matters may hap moscow is as other towns, and neither mediæval nor peculiar. but whosoever of a summer's night will wander into the suburbs will hear the policeman on his round beating two pieces of wood together with aggravating rhythm. if the listener be country-bred the noise will remind him of the farm boy of old days who, with wooden clapper, scared birds from the corn. if he be so curious as to examine the instrument he will find it to be a piece of board with a handle, and a wooden ball attached to it with a piece of twine. the knocking of the two together to produce an intermittent whirr is accomplished by a curious turn of the wrist. the watchman will explain that the noise is to warn garden-robbers and other depredators of his coming, or to advise his employers that he is about his duty. the most learned ethnologist of the west says that an identical instrument, handled in the same manner, is employed by the minor priests of a wild race in the far far east to drive away evil spirits from the native temple. further a-field--a twenty-five kopeck ride on a _lineika_ from the trubaya--ostankina is reached. there is a curious and elegant church of red brick built by moscow artisans in the golden age, at the cost of the boyard mikhail cherkassky. near by is a great wooden palace, stuccoed and prim, the property of the sheremetievs. passing through its park where le bruyn shot his great crane flying by a single bullet from his musket, and where the upper reaches of the yauza are still haunted by wild fowl, is a thick wood to the north of the stream, and in the middle of that near the path, a clearing where at midday a drove of mares are coralled and milked by men who speak a strange tongue, and are of quite different appearance to the muscovites. a mile further on is their village, near a large pool. it is a poor, insignificant, rather dirty and very untidy place. mordva its name; mordva its people, whose ancestors, many centuries ago, left their home among the altai mountains on the confines of manchuria and spread westward over russia, fighting with their later conquerors almost to their own extermination. various isolated groups of this once powerful race are scattered about russia, mixing but little with its people. these, who through long centuries have been resident in the heart of muscovy, seems as incongruous and impossible as would be the present occupation of hampstead heath by survivors of ancient picts in the full glory of their primitive customs. it is nearest to the great towns that primitive methods and beliefs persist most strongly, and just as in the villages about london, antiquated farming implements and old country superstitions are more plentiful than in the rural districts of england, so near moscow the old customs and manners die hard. in villages within easy walk of the kremlin, mediæval practices are rife, especially during the celebration of marriages, and the performance of minor domestic pageants. the curious, if persistent and lucky, may see the bowl of tantalus presented to the mother of the bride of yesterday, and as the liquor escapes the cup by the hole in its bottom from which the profferer has removed his finger, guess at the significance of the custom and speculate as to its origin. [illustration: petrovski monastyr] within the town almost every old building has its legends. very diverse are those connected with the lobnoe mesto on the grand square. it derived its name--literally "the place of a skull"--from the golgotha that was erected there for the easter passion play which was performed yearly before the church of the trinity disappeared. from time immemorial it has been _the_ place of public assembly, being to moscow what st paul's cross was to old london, and the _perron_ to liége. therefore, as all who have studied the migration of symbols will know, not only is it of very early origin, but associated with stories in some form common to all peoples. another almost universal superstition is in moscow attached to the sukharev bashnia, which is supposed to be the feminine complement of the ivan veliki tower in the kremlin. the people call the sukharev the _jena_ (wife) of ivan, and, according to tradition, jack and jenny get nearer to each other every year. visitors for whom folk-lore has no attraction will look for the picturesque in moscow. the most characteristic view, the prospect the tourist expects, is that seen by turning westward along the boulevard from the lubianka, and keeping along the south footpath, near the wall, watch the old town appear little by little as the brow of the hill is reached. houses--of all sorts and colours--a façade like that of a classic temple, domes blue, green and golden, the red tower of a chastok, a medley of roofs and walls, all these will appear framed in the foliage of the trees on the boulevards, and those overhanging the walls of the rojdestvenka convent, until the valley of the neglinnaia is right below and the crosses and domes of the petrovski monastery are disclosed to view. then it is time to cross the road to the centre of the boulevard and see moscow unfold itself--walls and towers changing like the coloured fragments in a kaleidoscope. opposite, where the bank rises to the strastnoi monastery, was once the old village of vissotski--older, it is said, than moscow town, or kremlin, or even the hall of kuchkovo and the twelfth century hamlet on the chisty prud at the back. again, ascend the belfry of st nikita in the goncharevskaya; time--the very early morning, and see the rising sun glitter on the domes of the kremlin, and the churches of the bielo gorod; or, when it has long passed the meridian, watch the afterglow reflected from the thousand domes, tinting the white walls from the balcony of krinkin's on the hill of salutation. stay on and watch the great white town, silent, reposeful and glorious, fade into the haze of the "white-night"; see it shimmering in the moonlight, or the glare of midday sun; sparkling feebly in the blue star light, or glowing like a new-cast ingot in the blackness of winter's midnight; see it how, when and where you may, solve the enigma of its vitality if you can--but neither doubt its strength, nor question its beauty. [russian poetry in cyrillic letters] chapter xii _the convents and monasteries_ "these are the haunts of meditation,--these the scenes where ancient bards th' inspiring breath esctatic felt; and from the world retired, conversed with angels and immortal forms, on gracious errands bent."--thomson. russian monks all belong to one order, that based on the rule of st basil the great, practically the only order of "black" clergy recognised by the eastern church. the first monastery in russia was founded by st anthony, a russian who, after living some time on mount athos, returned to kiev, and there, in , conjunctly with st theodosius, established the pecherski monastery, on the same rule as that of the studemi--one of the strictest of the clerical institutions in constantinople. the pecherski still ranks highest among the monasteries of russia. the one of greatest importance in moscow, though not the most ancient, is that of the miracles (chudov) founded in the fourteenth century by st alexis, the metropolitan. it stands within the kremlin, between the two imperial palaces, on a spot which long ago was a part of the enclosure around the dwelling of the tartar bashkak, or "resident." at the time when one chani-bek was khan, his wife, taidula, fell ill and was healed by alexis, to whom out of gratitude she presented her gold signet ring with its effigy of the great dragon, and a site for the monastery of the miracles. the first building was erected in , and the monastery long served as the residence of the primates of moscow; it has been many times destroyed and rebuilt; the present building dates from the reign of the first romanof, and, at the time of writing, is in course of extensive alteration. passing before the church, with the curious paper ikon outside, a large gateway will be found in the angle where the chudov buildings abut against those of the smaller imperial palace; passing through this, the visitor will find himself in a large courtyard; the church of st michael is on the right, a small railed-in cemetery among the trees on the left. the monastery, a mean, dilapidated, straggling two-storeyed building, extends almost completely around the quadrangle; the chief rooms, on the _bel-étage_, communicate with a long outside covered gallery, closely resembling the yard of an old london inn, which is reached by the perron in the western corner. the church of st michael, the archistratigus, was built conjointly with the monastery in , rebuilt in , and later restored in its primitive style, so has preserved even more than any other church in moscow the original character of muscovite ecclesiastic architecture. the interior is well worth seeing, but access is not easy; the best time is after early matins, which are celebrated about thrice weekly at a.m. the frescoes are very primitive, and for moscow, original. the old-fashioned low ikonostas is of a type common to "wooden russia"; the ancient ikons call only for the attention of the student, but on the high altar is a tabernacle in the form of a church with twelve domes which has wider interest. it is the work of remizov in the reign of mikhail theodorovich. within the courtyard, traces of tartar graves have been found; and the cemetery contains the tombs of edeger--the last "tsar" of kazan, --and of many moscow families, as the trubetskis, kovanskis, sherbatovs, etc. the state rooms are still used by the head of the church in moscow; they look out towards ivan veliki, immediately above the little window at which the holy bread is sold. although the monastery has been the scene of many important events in connection with the history of the church and of moscow--it was here that maxim, the greek, studied, and latin was first taught, --there is nothing either in the refectory or common rooms connected with them, for the monastery was erected during the plague riots of and spoiled by the french. the church of the patriarch alexis is entered from the tsar's square through a portico, of a pseudo-gothic style, designed by kasakov in the eighteenth century, but the church itself was constructed in , and the remains of st alexis the metropolitan then conveyed there in the presence of the tsarevna sophia and the boy-tsars ivan v. and peter i. it occupies the site of an earlier church founded in , and contains the incorruptible remains of the saint. alexis, the wonder-worker, was descended from a boyard family named pleskov. born in , he passed twenty-two years of his life in moscow, a student of the bogo-yavlenski monastery; after admission he was for twelve years one of the household of the archbishop, and later became bishop of vladimir, and metropolitan of kief. his care of the two child princes of moscow, his direction of dmitri donskoi and sturdy championship of moscow, and his efforts to maintain its supremacy, endeared him to the people. when he died in , at the age of eighty-five, he was buried within the chudov monastery he had founded; there in his remains were discovered undecayed, and miraculous qualities attributed to them. in , balaam the metropolitan informed vasili ivanovich, then the reigning grand-duke, that the blind in visiting the tomb of alexis were restored to sight. since that date the memory of alexis has been held in highest reverence by the orthodox, and in the public esteem he ranks with st peter, first among the patron saints of moscow. consequently the church is one of the richest; it was spoiled by the french, who cast the silver shrine of the saint into the melting pot, and his _moshi_ were found under a heap of lumber after the flight of napoleon. much of the decoration is new, but in the style of the time of alexis mikhailovich, of which the pavement is particularly characteristic. the new shrine is of silver, so are the royal doors of the sanctuary; for them some lbs were needed, and the tabernacle, the chandeliers and the elaborate ikonostas are all of sterling metal, and there is a magnificent archiepiscopal mitre presented by prince potemkin. the original coffin of the saint, is preserved in a glass case near the silver shrine, and by it are kept the identical pastoral staff he used in moscow, and other personal relics. among these are manuscript copies of the new testament executed by the saint, as also his holograph will. the library has some hundreds of old illuminated and other manuscript books, including a psalter of the thirteenth century, and a collection of old printed books of the seventeenth century. this church, the adjoining chapel of the annunciation, and the monastery are all closely associated with the introduction of pedagogy to moscow; it was here that the first scholastic seminary for priests was founded, and later an academy was developed. it became customary for parents to bring their children hither before their entry to any school, in order that the blessing of st alexis might be asked, and some peasants of the village at one time owned by the saint make a pilgrimage to his shrine on his name day, and pray for their "lord." the sacristy has a valuable collection of old plate; the crosses, panagies, mitres, vases, goblets, etc., are remarkable for their beauty and rich decoration, and second only to those of the collection in the sacristy of the patriarchs. naturally the monastery of the miracles is closely associated with the more renowned of the wonder-working ikons of russia. the most celebrated now existing there are: the trimorphic paper ikon of the holy trinity, that of st nicholas the wonder-worker, and that of st anastasia. in , when moscow was decimated by the plague, it was believed that the ikon of the virgin (bogoloobski) at the varvarka vorot wrought miraculous cures. it was so thronged by worshippers and the pestilent stricken that, as a measure of precaution, the archbishop ambrose ordered its immediate removal to the chudov monastery, but the maddened people gathered in the kremlin and threatened that they would not leave a stone of the monastery standing unless the ikon was at once restored. the archbishop was forced to give way. the next day he was dragged by the mob from the donskoi monastery where he was hiding and massacred by the enraged populace. this was on the th september: from that date the plague declined and the daily death-rate of returned to the normal average with the advent of winter. flanking the eastern wall of the chudov monastery are the buildings of the convent of the ascension (vossnesenski), the entrance to which is from the large square of the kremlin near the redeemer gate. there are some indications that this nunnery is of greater antiquity than , the date usually assigned its foundation. eudoxia, the wife of dmitri donskoi, organised the institution, and, after taking the veil there, ordered that it was to be her place of sepulture also. the buildings were destroyed in --ninety years after their erection--again in , , , , and last of all on the great fire of all saints' day, . its successive rebuildings are due to the great veneration of the orthodox for the tombs of their ancestors, and from its cemetery ranked first as the place of sepulture for the consorts of the rulers of muscovy; some thirty-five were interred within its walls between and . "it is said that when eudoxia retired to the convent in , although she observed the appointed fasts rigorously and within the walls wore heavy weights and performed arduous penances, she still took great interest in the affairs of the outer world, and when visiting dressed in rich robes befitting her former state. this gave rise to much scandal, which she refuted by exhibiting to her accusers the effects of her self-imposed penances. when tokhtamysh destroyed the building in she not only devoted herself to the task of founding a better community, but did so much work among the sick and indigent that she more than retrieved her character, being worshipped almost as a saint and canonised under her adopted name of euphrosina, revered through many generations." the cells are mean, and the low plain façade not unlike those of english alms-houses of the eighteenth century. it was in this nunnery that maria mniszek was housed prior to her marriage with the false dmitri, and here, too, that maria nagoi was forced to recognise the same impostor as her own murdered son. the cathedral of the ascension, like that of st michael in the chudov, is of a primitive type, preserving many of the characteristics of the original building erected by the tsar vasili ivanovich in ; the five domes have not, however, the common bulbous cupolas, these resemble inverted cups--an original type. the interior has the customary four pillars supporting the central dome; there is an ikonostas with four tiers reaching to the arched roof. of the sacred pictures the most remarkable are that of the virgin and that of the ascension; there is also a curious one in the north chapel dedicated to mary the mother of the afflicted. the tombs of the grand duchesses are arranged along the frescoed walls, north, west and south; some are of the white stone used in the earliest buildings in moscow, others of brick; formerly the portraits of those interred were painted on the walls over their tombs, now many are covered with splendidly worked palls of native design. the remains of eudoxia (st euphrosina) are in a modern shrine of silver, replacing that taken by the french; on the right, near the south wall, is the tomb of another eudoxia (shtrchnev), the wife of mikhail theodorovich; then come the tombs of the miloslavski and naryshkin, wives of his son the tsar alexis, and the last tomb of all is that of another eudoxia, the much tortured first wife of peter the great. four of the six, or more, wives of ivan the terrible also lie here. in the sacristy among many rich relics are two exquisitely decorated copies of the gospels; the enamel work and enrichment with gems is the most characteristic of the russian art handicrafts. not less excellent are the two golden processional crucifixes presented by the tsar michael. such is the summer church of the convent, to which there is a grand ceremonial procession on palm sunday, and one on the second sunday after trinity to commemorate the great fire of . the winter church, dedicated to st michael, is the chapel of honour of st theodore of persia and was built in the eighteenth century only. in addition to a much venerated ikon of the virgin, painted in , there is preserved one of the greatest antiquities of moscow--a bas relief representing st george the conqueror (pobiedonostzev), the head uncovered, which originally was one of the decorations of the redeemer gate near by. it was transferred thence to the church of st george, which was destroyed by the fire of , a conflagration that threatened the convent also, but was stayed by the miraculous ikon of the virgin of kazan, now placed in the adjoining new church of st catherine the martyr. this is a modern building on the site of a fine old church of the seventeenth century, and of a russified-gothic style serves to show, from an artistic point of view, how disastrous is the attempt to combine native designs with those of the west. on the ground floor of the western range of buildings are the ovens, etc., where the holy bread is prepared, and the nuns of the convent are celebrated throughout russia for the excellence of their work with the needle and brush, their copies of the ikons of these churches being in particular request. the monasteries outside the kremlin have much the character of small fortified towns, and are the stronger and, architecturally, the more interesting the greater the distance at which they are situated from the town. to visit them, drive out to the simonov--four miles from the centre of the town--and pass the krutitski vorot and the novo spasski; the spasso-andronievski and the pokrovski on the return. on the south side of the river to the danilovski and the donskoi; to the west the zachatievski and novo devichi. the others, of minor interest are:--monasteries of st nicholas, epiphany, znamenski, petrovski, srietenka, and alexis; convents: st nikita, rojdestvenka, and strastnoi. simonov monastery st sergius founded the monastery in , but it was not moved to its present site on a hill commanding the moskva until twenty years later. it educated st jonah in the fifteenth century, and when he became metropolitan it increased in importance, but was later surpassed by the troitsa, and although it owned , souls--male serfs--in the eighteenth century, it has never attained the leading position, nor even that expected of it. the present walls were built during the reign of theodore i. but, finished in , they could not keep out the poles, who completely sacked the monastery in . it is a line, strong looking, dreamy old place, somewhat dilapidated and overgrown with verdure. the wall is half a mile long, commanded by wonderful spire-like towers, some feet high, crowned with two-storeyed domed watch rooms, which look like huge dovecots. there is a covered rampart walk all round, and from the tower near the river, a subterranean passage to the lizin prud, a holy well at one time much visited by the sick who had faith in its miraculous healing properties. some six churches are within its walls, one the cathedral of the assumption, a massive building, consecrated in , and having a somewhat bizarre appearance, its façade, in the byzantine style, being also painted in three colours to represent quadrangular facets. it is a building quite foreign to muscovite style; reminiscent rather of the old country churches of portugal. the ikon of greatest celebrity is that of god the father, richly decorated, and once, it is said, blessed by st sergius, when it was carried with the troops of dmitri against the tartars under mamai. [illustration: simonov monastyr] a moscow merchant defrayed the cost of the great belfry, feet high, and under the refectory is buried the renowned field-marshall bruce; the sacristy is rich in vestments and some ornamental work of the tsar alexis's _masterskaya_ in the kremlin. the most famous inmate was simeon bekbulatov the converted tsar of kazan, whom ivan groznoi made tsar of moscow for twelve months; his tomb will be shown. the charm of the simonov is derived from its stillness, its out of the world air, its roominess, the matured trees, the ample orchard, the long rampart walk, the excellent views of moscow, the many quaint nooks near the old stores, the grateful shade of pleasant bosquets and the orderly negligence that suggests contentment--an ideal home for dreamers, for cheery mysticism and the inception of unhurried philosophies. the novo spasski the new monastery of the saviour, so called because in the fifteenth century removed from the kremlin to its present site, is pleasantly situated near the moskva river not far from the krasnoe kholmski bridge. its walls were of wood until the invasion of devlet ghiree, after which an attempt appears to have been made to turn all the outlying monasteries into fortresses for the better protection of moscow. one peculiarity of the spasski monastyr is that the towers which flank the wall are all different, one is pentagonal, one round, one hexagonal, and so others vary--some are squat, others have tapering spires from the towers; the belfry is feet high. its claim to greatness is not due to the spirited defence it made to the polish attack, but to the fact that within its cathedral of the transfiguration, one of the five churches within the walls, is a picture "_neruko-tvorenni_," not made with hands. "in the year , in the town of khlinov, in the porch of the church of the trinity, before the image of our saviour not made with hands, peter palkin, blind three years, stood and worshipped and miraculously received his sight." the tsar alexis ordered the picture to be brought to moscow for the spasski monastery, and a copy of it to be sent to khlinov, or viatka. the church is also adorned with a set of fresco portraits illustrating the genealogy of the tsars of moscow, from olga to alexis: corresponding therewith, the portraits of the kings of israel. behind the ikonostas are some extraordinary mural paintings of the tsars michael and alexis, founders of the cathedral. the church of the protection, to the south of the cathedral, was built in to the memory of the patriarch philaret, and a third church, near the cells of the monks, was built in by nicholas cherkassky, to whose family moscow owes several fine churches. the monastery was the favourite burying place of such noble moscow families as the yaroslavskis, gagarins, sherbatevs, naryshkins and romanofs, whose ancestors are mostly interred in a crypt here, the last being vasili yurivich zakharin. the monastery of st andronievski was founded by st alexis the metropolitan who made a vow, when in a storm at sea during his voyage to constantinople. the relics of st andronie are preserved in a silver shrine. all these monasteries were pillaged and profaned by the french, the andronievski suffered perhaps more than the others since there some monks were shot. donskoi monastery this monastery is in no way connected with dmitri donskoi but owes its name to a picture of the virgin mary, presented by the don cossacks (kazak = soldier) after the great victory over khazi-ghiree and his army of , mongols advancing against moscow in : they were repulsed by the army raised by boris godunov and the miraculous intervention of the ikon of the cossacks, and the grateful theodore built the monastery on the field of their defeat as a fit shrine for the ikon, which had been set up as the standard of the defenders of moscow. a church pageant on august th (old style) commemorates the victory. the white walls and red turrets are copied from those of the novo devichi. the principal church was founded in by catherine, daughter of the tsar alexis, and differs from those of moscow town in being of red brick. the smaller church of the virgin is the older, founded in ; the three others are of the eighteenth century. the cossacks were the means of enriching the church by recovering the silver looted by the french. the decorations are for the most part quite modern, and the paintings by an italian. the cemetery has fine monuments, and there the people resort on summer evenings for the shade of the trees and restfulness of this peaceful retreat. further along the kalujskaya is the alexandrina palace, formerly the property of the orloffs, with its celebrated pleasaunce "sans souçi," extending to the wooded bank of the moskva, with pretty views of moscow and one excellent one of the church of the saviour seen alone at the extremity of a fine avenue of great trees. danilovski monastyr this has the advantage of being the oldest establishment of its kind in moscow. founded in the kremlin by daniel in , it was transferred in , and in the reign of ivan iv. rebuilt on its present site. the walls are less ornate than those of the other fortifications of their time; the machecoules with superposed loop-holes over the gun-ports are also unusual and the polygonal corner towers have greater symmetry than those of simonov or novo spasski. the chief object of interest within the building is the silver shrine of the founder placed in the church by the tsar alexis in . the other two churches are commonplace, but in the cemetery is the tomb of gogol, one of the most original of muscovite authors. the zamoskvoretski quarter, south of the river, was in mediæval times little better than a swamp and long uninhabited. the mongols settled there later, and tartar names indicate some streets, as balchoog, "quagmire," and bolotnaia, "swamps;" as late as the reign of the great catherine, the island where is now the babygorodskaia (little town) was open waste land, and there the rebel impostor pugatchev, brought to moscow in an iron cage, was beheaded in . a raised road krimski-val, above the fen-land leads from the donskoi monastyr to the krimski most, the tubular bridge over the river near the ostogenka. it obtained its name from the fact that the krim tartars in their attacks on moscow always crossed the river at that point, and it is still better known as krimski brode or "ford." novo devichi convent west of the krimski most, where the river makes a wide sweep and on three side bounds a large tract of low lying land, is the maidens' field, which tradition asserts is the locality of the market at which the tartars in old times purchased muscovite girls for the mohammedan harems in constantinople and ispahan. historians contend that the name is derived from the convent established there since . there is no doubt that this was established in the early years of the sixteenth century to commemorate the recapture of smolensk by vasili iii. it is also indisputable that there were already convents existing within moscow and that _novo devichi monastyr_ means simply _new monastery for women_. helen, "the maid," was the first abbess of this, and may have given it the name, but it was customary in moscow, before and since, to name the convents after the dedication, as conception, nativity, passion, etc., so some earlier use of the popular appellation "maidens' field" is more probable. the convent is two miles distant from the kremlin, but also on the river bank, though a tank serving as a moat actually separates it from the present raised embankment of the moskva. the walls were built by the same italians who completed the walls of the kremlin, and are of the same type, but round and square towers alternate and both have some of the heavy florid decoration so common in moscow. the single and double dropped-arch is most conspicuous, and the quaintness of the architecture is accentuated by the glaring disparity of the colouring--dead white for the walls and interior of the open turrets, dark indian red for the tops of the towers and masonry above the corbels of the machecoules. the belfry is of five lofty stages _en retraite_ surmounted with a gilded bulbous dome and immense cross; its colours are pink and white with neutral facings: yellow, green, rose-pink picked out with white or darker tints are used for the other churches; that over the gateway being white with green roof, and both green and blue are used lavishly elsewhere for the roofs of the buildings within the enclosure, which together with the gold on domes and crosses, gives to the convent-fortress a beauty that is wholly eastern. the two churches vasili founded have been preserved and others added. they are-- church of the assumption, with a chapel dedicated to the holy ghost. church of st ambrose, of milan. church of the transfiguration of the virgin. church of the protection of the virgin. chapel of ss. balaam and jehosaphat, beneath the belfry. church of st james the apostle, founded in gratitude of the preservation of the monastery on st james's day . the cathedral church with chapels to the archangel michael; to ss. prokhor and nikanor; to st sophia and the sister graces, vera, nadejda, and lubov (faith, hope and charity). here the daughters of alexis mikhailovich are buried, as also eudoxia (helena), first wife of peter i. on the ikonostas is a very early copy of the iberian mother of god, before that ikon was taken to smolensk in . its history is unimportant. julia the wife of its founder was forced to take the veil here in when vasili intended to marry helena glinski; boris godunov and his sister irene lived within it during the six weeks following upon the death of theodore i. notwithstanding its apparent strength, during the times of trouble vasili shoviski after various struggles to retain it, was forced to give it up to the invading [illustration: novo devichi convent] poles. peter the great imprisoned his sister sophia within its walls, and executed many of the streltsi before her windows that their agony might awe her bold spirit. some years after he made it a foundling hospital, and infants were housed there before the hospitalrie dom was built; it was abolished in . napoleon visited it in and at first it suffered little; the king of naples ordering divine service to be celebrated daily as usual, but later davoust was billeted there, and after the disaster the french before quitting it did their utmost to blow up the belfry, the cathedral and stores. the nuns at considerable risk interrupted the fired train and, by their intrepidity and subsequent perseverance in combating the fire, saved the convent from destruction. russian monasteries and convents are not rigorously closed to the public like those of the roman church. generally from sunrise to sunset the great gates stand open that all may enter who desire to do so; and the nuns, so far from being secluded from the world, are rather encouraged to go out into it, both on errands of charity and, at need, to supplement by their own handicraft a too scanty income. for the most part the cells are shared in common by three inmates who unite their daily rations of tea, salt, and black-bread, and whilst the infirm sisters busy themselves in copying ikons or producing lace, needle-work and the like, the more active go into the town to dispose of the produce. in convents as elsewhere the russian rule holds good that one's room is inviolate: strictly private if the inmates wish, yet open to whomsoever it is their pleasure to entertain. chapter xiii _moscow of the english_ "o, how glad was i that the tsar took notice of those few englishmen."--horsey. moscow still bears witness to the thoroughness of english handicraft just as it shows the unmistakable impress of the french heel. when the discovery of the new world by columbus had awakened england to enterprise and adventure, among the expeditions fitted out to find new markets for english manufactures was one of three ships sent on the advice of sebastian cabot, to the arctic seas in . sir hugh willoughby was in command; richard chancellor, a young _protégé_ of sir henry sydney, his able lieutenant, and king edward vi. himself the patron. the merchant venturers each found £ for the undertaking; £ in all was subscribed; two tartars in the king's stable were interrogated as to that land on "the east of the globe," but they answered nothing at all that was in point. three ships sailed from rudcliff harbour on the th may, but a few days later a storm separated them. chancellor sailed on, and notwithstanding "the counsel of three friendly scotchmen" to proceed no further, he reached the white sea where he awaited the coming of his chief. sighting a smack he got the men on board; they at once fell prostrate to kiss his feet but he himself raised them, "an act of humanity that won for him much goodwill." the natives dared not trade without leave of their prince, and in some six weeks an invitation was given chancellor to proceed from kholmogori (archangel) to moscow. there he was sumptuously entertained. furnished with a reply to king edward's letter and permission to trade, he returned to london. in april , chancellor was again sent to moscow; the tsar in the meanwhile had found the remains of sir hugh willoughby's other two ships, the crews of which had been starved to death. the result of this second voyage was the establishment of the russia company at kholmogori and moscow, and the visit of a russian envoy to the court of st james's. ill-luck attended the return voyage; chancellor, his son and seven russians, were drowned when their ship was wrecked, near kinnaird head. the english were not deterred by untoward events, and pressed trade briskly. they had to deal with a sovereign whose methods were detestable and whose aim was a political and matrimonial alliance with the tudors, not commercial intercourse with the english people; the tsar was foiled, and the english traders succeeded. no doubt the venturers were misled by the too glowing reports of their servants, who represented russia as a new indies. wondrous were the stories they gave of the country and its inhabitants; of the immense wealth of the tsar; of the strange animals that roamed in the forests. of these last one was the "rossmachia," which devoured food so ravenously that it had to pass between great growing trees in order to reduce its distended stomach--an animal not identified; another was the ass-camel, having the attributes of both these beasts, which was so far believed in as to figure in the arms of the eastland company and is thought to be the yak. to these early voyagers, earnest and austere in their new-found protestantism, the religion of the muscovites seemed idolatrous, and to their prejudiced writings, reproduced by generation after generation, many of the still current misconceptions concerning the eastern church are due. the governors of the russia company were hard-headed, bargain-driving tradesmen, with no soul for empire or an attempt had been made by them to conquer and annex russia for their sovereign and their country. profitable trade was their one aim and the extravagances of their servants and apprentices their increasing lament. many were the complaints, piteous the explanations; anger on the part of the employer, indignation and desertion on the part of the unlucky apprentices. ivan did not pay for the goods he had, or his chancellor would not; none dared trade but by his leave; his subjects feared to buy the merchants' goods lest their sovereign might still require them for himself. the governors paid no heed to the customs of the country or the needs of their apprentices--foundlings and charity--reared orphans--no furs were to be worn; the ells of cloth allowed annually were in no case to be exceeded, and the use of horses forbidden; "if it be against the manner of that countrie we will make it the manner rather than forbear our money with losse to clothe them otherwise, or maintain them to ride when we go afoot. let the horses and mares be sold." so ordered the governors their full-powered servant anthony jenkinson, who was further commanded to "reduce our stipendiaries to a better order in apparel; forbid them riding, for such excessiveness corrupteth all good natures, bringeth obloquy to our nation and also loss to ourselves." "item " of this long command is "no dogs, bears, or superfluous burdens to be kept; no bond-men or women to wait upon them." "item , they shall pay for their apparel not at cost price but at the selling price in russia." among other things the unfortunate ill-clad apprentice bore in the frozen north during arctic winter was punishment for the company's misdoings, but the governors, "doubt that alcock's death proceeded from asking for payment of our debts, as edwardes writes, but that he either quareled inadvisedly or else constrained the people touching their religion, laws, or manners, being given wisdom wolde to mislike and mock other strangers." no wonder the english left the factory and tried to make a living for themselves, but withal there were many of the right grit among them, to wit, anthony jenkinson who passed through moscow in determined upon finding a way to the indies by the caspian. this intrepid adventurer reached ispahan with the goods of the russia company and returned burdened with rich barter and precious gifts. later he fitted out a fleet on the caspian and made war on the turcomans with some success, an undertaking the difficulties of which can scarcely be estimated seeing that he could communicate with england only by way of archangel,--a port closed by ice for one half of the year. jenkinson had not only to contend with pirates on the volga, but was warned that the danes might attempt to seize his ships,--_primrose_, tons; _john evangelist_, ; _anne_, ; _trinitie_, ;--as they passed the wardhouse (vardso) "where be enemies that do mislike the newe found trade by seas to russia." sigismund ii., king of poland, tried his utmost to stop the traffic, "sending messengers with pretended letters of thanks to english merchants in order to make the tsar, ivan, suspicious of them. he fitted out ships in dantzig to capture english ships bound for the narva, and threatened elizabeth that loss of liberty, life, wives and children awaited those who should carry wares and weapons to the muscovite who was not only the enemy of the king of poland but the hereditary foe of all free nations." among other of the company's servants who distinguished themselves were southam and spark who discovered the water-way from the white sea to novgorod, and so got goods thither without such risk as was run from russia's enemies on the baltic when sent by narva. the flemings and germans were jealous of the new traders and made many misrepresentations concerning both persons and goods. they themselves furnished an inferior staple, but the simple people were made to prefer it to english cloth which, as it would not shrink as theirs did, could not be new. jerom horsey was an apprentice or underling of the russia company at moscow; he attracted the tsar's attention by his expert horsemanship and his wit when the tsar questioned him respecting the russian ships building at vologda for the caspian. horsey answered that with others he had admired their "strange fashion." ivan would know what he meant by this description. "i mean that the figure heads of lions, dragons, eagles, elephants and unicorns were so skilfully, so richly adorned with gold and silver, and painted in bright colours." "a crafty youth to commend the work of his own countrymen," remarked ivan, and then asked about the english fleet, but was displeased when horsey described the queen's flag as "one before which all nations bow." these traders were not the only british in moscow, others were brought as prisoners by ivan on his return from the devastation of novgorod. "at which time, among other nations, there were four score and five poor scotch soldiers left of sent from stockholm, and three englishmen in their company brought many other captives, in most miserable manner, piteous to behold. i laboured and employed my best endeavours and credit--not only to succour them but with my purse, and pains, and means got them to be well placed at bulvan near the moskva. and although the tsar was much inflamed with fury and wrath against them, torturing and putting many of these swede soldiers to death--most lamentable to behold--i procured the tsar to be told of the difference between these scots, now his captives, and the swedes, poles and lithuanins his enemies. that they were of a nation of strangers; remote; a venturous and warlike people, ready to serve any christian prince for maintenance and pay, as they would appear and prove, if it pleased his majesty to employ and spare them such maintenance. they were out of heart; no clothes; no arms; but would show themselves of valour even against his mortal enemy the tartar. it seems some use was made of this advice for shortly the best soldiers were put apart and captains of each nation appointed to govern the rest. jeamy lingett for the scottish men, a valiant, honest man. money, clothes, and daily allowance for meat and drink was given them; horses, hay and oats; swords, piece and pistols were they armed with--poor snakes before, looke now cheerfully. twelve hundred of them did better service against the tartar than twelve thousand russians with their short bows and arrows. the krim-tartars, not knowing then the use of muskets and pistols, struck dead on their horses with shot they saw not, cried:--'awaye with those new devils that come with their thundering puffs,' whereat the tsar made good sport. then had they pensions and lands allowed them to live upon; matched and married with the fair women of livonia; increased into families, and live in favour of the prince and people."--_horsey._ unhappily their good treatment was not long continued. soon ivan set a thousand of his opritchniks "to rob and spoil them," and their sufferings were terrible. some escaped into the english house, and were clad and relieved there, "but," says horsey, "we were in danger of great displeasure in so doing." but horsey, a man of wide sympathies, did not confine his aid to men of his own country; he was instrumental in saving many other of the captives of ivan's wars in the west, who were quartered in a special suburb, the _nemetski sloboda_, "by my mediation and means, being then familiar and conversant in the court, well known and respected of the best favourites and officers at that time, i procured liberty to build them a church, and contributed well thereunto; got unto them a learned preaching minister, and divine service and meeting of the congregation every sabath day, but after their lutheran profession." these people "soon grew in good liking" of the muscovite citizens, "living civilly, but in doleful mourning manner for their evil loss of goods, friends, and country." horsey was the man chosen by ivan to take a private message to queen elizabeth in answer to the important communication she had sent him by anthony jenkinson. the tsar provided him with horses, and a guard as far as the confines of his territory, but "forbear to tell you all the secrets entrusted to you, lest you should fall into my enemy's power and be forced to betray them, but you will give to the queen, my loving sister, the contents of this bottle," and the tsar himself secreted a small wooden spirit-flask among the trappings of the young rider's horse. horsey had engaged upon a daring undertaking, and had an adventurous journey. it was winter; russia was beset by ivan's enemies, who hated the english for the help given the muscovite ruler. as soon as he crossed the border he feigned to be a refugee, but was taken as a spy and cast into prison. the governor of the castle, hearing that he came from moscow, would learn some news of his daughter, who had been carried away a captive by ivan's troops. she was among those whom horsey had helped to settle in the sloboda, and he gave so good an account of her, that the grateful jailer liberated him and helped him forward on his long journey. when he passed through the netherlands the merchants gave a banquet in his honour and, for favours he had rendered the foreigners in moscow, presented him with a silver bowl full of ducats. horsey returned the ducats, as he says, "not without afterwards repenting of this," but kept the bowl to remind him of their good will. he reached england, and was received by the queen and indicted by the sordid governors of the russia company, who made a number of trivial and baseless charges. he returned to russia more than once, got the extravagant demands of the company conceded, some thousands of roubles were "preened from the shins of shalkan, the chancellor," and after living through the "troublous times" he finally settled in england; was married, knighted, and lived far into the seventeenth century. probably his "good friends" at court were nikita romanof, grandfather of the first elected tsar, and boris godunov with whom horsey was always on excellent terms. ivan sent a couple of hundred of his opritchniks to pillage the house of his father-in-law nikita romanof, and the english then sheltered the family in their house close by, and supplied them with food and stuffs "for they had been stripped of all they possessed." in its turn the english house suffered; it was burned by the tartars in , and the inmates huddled in the cellar for days, lost spark, the explorer, carver, the first apothecary in moscow, and others, but the survivors rushed out during a lull in the conflagration and made their way through the smoke and flames to the kremlin, where they were helped over the wall. in it was again destroyed by fire, in the struggle between pojarski and the poles, and finally destroyed during the french invasion. its site is now occupied by the siberian podvor, in the varvarka. it was not rebuilt, but a plot of land between the broosovski and chernichefski pereuloks--the streets that connect the tverskaya and nikitskaya behind the governor-general's residence--was granted the colony by alexander i., and there a new english church, parsonage and library have been erected. the early settlers were chiefly traders, but they also coined silver money and made weapons; it was usual for the tsar to honour the house by a ceremonial call early in the new year, and towards the autumn, the tsar and court accompanied the merchants the first stage of their homeward journey towards archangel, and gave them a parting feast and toast at a picnic in the forest--a custom observed by peter i. until he founded st petersburgh. their status was, and is, that of foreign guests, and they were subject to the common law and custom. william barnsley of worcester appears to have been the first englishman exiled to siberia. ivan the terrible thought him too familiar in his behaviour towards the tsaritsa, so banished him, but he returned after twenty-six years, hale and very wealthy. giles fletcher, father of phineas fletcher, the poet, obtained an undertaking that englishmen should not be put to the torture or put on the put-key--whipping block--before condemnation. his own book on muscovy was promptly suppressed on the petition of the russia company, whose members so far from supporting the rights of their countrymen, were not altogether displeased that an escaped apprentice--or other roving englishman--if not roasted, "yet were scorched." peter the great put to death the beautiful miss hamilton, a lady of honour to his wife eudoxia and nearly related to his own mother's foster-parents, but he is said to have accompanied her to the scaffold and picked up the head as it dropped from the block and pressed his lips to hers. there were englishwomen in moscow in the sixteenth century, for, apart from the anecdote respecting ivan's treatment of them, jane richard, the widow of his physician, the notorious dr bomel, was sent back to england in , and in john frenchman founded the _apteka_ in moscow in , and returned [illustration: tower over the redeemer gate (spasski vorot)] to moscow with his wife and family in . from the complaints of the russia company of their young employees, it would appear that married men were sent out, "as also a divine to exhort the single to righteous conduct," quite early in its history. from these people who lived apart from the citizens and enjoyed certain privileges, the russians derived new ideas as to woman's place in the household, and many families adopted the foreign customs long before peter "commanded" that the terems should be thrown open and the example of the court followed by all. the visible memorials of the early english settlers in moscow may be found about the kremlin in such works as the great central tower, ivan veliki, built by john villiers, the beautiful church of st catherine--that behind the golden gate (_v._ p. ) accredited to john taylor; and, still more characteristic, those gothic towers which rise so majestically above the troitski and spasski gates. in them the influence of the east is scarcely to be discovered, even such use as is made of the ogival arch being quite as native to the gothic of the later period as to the russian architecture, whilst those forms of decoration common to moscow prior to, and during, the seventeenth century are as completely ignored as the designs of the italian builders of the wall these gothic towers crown. in the view illustrated the belfry tower of the church of st catherine also figures, in not unpleasing contrast with the more severe, and beautiful, but commoner architecture adopted by galloway. foreign craftsmen flocked to moscow during the glorious reign of alexis, and the russia company prospered, but the english settlers received a temporary check when the quarrel rose between king and parliament. alexis, in gratitude for favours shown his ancestors by the english, sent charles grain and furs, and banished those who declared for the commonwealth. he annulled the charter of the russia company when cromwell succeeded, and would have no intercourse with the protector. in this, as in most matters, cromwell ultimately obtained his own way. the difficulty was smoothed away by cromwell's roaming ambassador, the able bradshaw, who did not even need to visit russia to accomplish so little. trade was re-opened, and later alexis corresponded with the great englishman. during the reign of peter all foreign residents, not military leaders, were oppressed--their wages were withheld that they might not escape the country and agreements and contracts disregarded, but there was no open enmity between the races save for a short time subsequent to the seizure of malta, which act greatly embittered the emperor paul against the english. the marquess of carmarthen obtained a tobacco monopoly from peter the great, who on his return to moscow now punished as severely those of his subjects who would not acquire the habit as he had previously done those who indulged it. but he disregarded the provisions of the contract and the result was that queen anne's representative at moscow was instructed to send home the workmen and secretly destroy all the material and machines in the factory at moscow. the envoy and his secretary "spent long hours and nights" in accomplishing this service with their own hands--probably the last actual direct interference of the british crown with matters commercial and industrial, for it failed of its ultimate purpose, and brought disaster. scotch soldiers of fortune found their opportunities in russia, and made the most of them. one of the best known among them is the sturdy patrick gordon, who entered the swedish service under the grandfather of charles xii.; was captured by the poles and served them until taken prisoner by alexis. the tsar had heard that gordon had taken pity upon russian captives in warsaw, and at his own cost fed them, so sent for him that he might thank him personally for the "favours shown to the poor captives in warsaw," whereupon gordon offered his sword to moscow, and served faithfully. one alexander gordon, who claimed cousinship, found his way to moscow, and was made an officer by peter "for that he, single handed, thrashed seven russian officers who had insulted him." he also married a daughter of patrick gordon, and wrote the best contemporary biography of peter i. crawford helped the gordons to form a regiment of regular soldiers, and field-marshal bruce with gordon rendered such valuable services, that peter instituted the order of st andrew, for distinguished military services, and these scotchmen were the first to be decorated. after the peace of tilsit napoleon wished alexander to banish or imprison the english in russia, but the tsar answered, "their ancestors have been here during past centuries and i shall not treat my old friends so ill as to consider them enemies; if they choose to remain in russia none shall molest them." they suffered during the french occupation of moscow; their church was burned, and the residence of their pastor as well as their own warehouses and dwellings. it is said that one englishman, more astute than most, buried his treasure and a little less deep interred the body of a french soldier. the marauders seeing the newly-turned earth dug until they reached the body of their comrade, but sought no further, and the next year the englishman removed his treasure intact. during the crimean war, the only inconvenience the english residents suffered was the loss of trade. the police doubted whether it was lawful for the community to offer up prayers for the defeat of the russians--the queen's enemies--and the matter was referred to the emperor nicholas, who answered that the english were "to be allowed to pray for whomsoever and whatsoever they pleased." from the english settlers have descended men who have distinguished themselves, as amongst poets, lermontof (lear-month); amongst diplomats, count balmaine (ramsay of balmaine) and prince menzikov (menzies); among soldiers, barclay de tolly (from a scotch protestant refugee) and skobelev (scobie); amongst architects, sherwood, designer of the historical museum, and parland, architect of the memorial cathedral, st petersburg, and in other walks of life, others the equals of these. the colonists have but one policy--to support the government--and do not fuse freely with the slavs. some still cling tenaciously to the nationality of their ancestors, whilst in dress, language, manners and aspirations indistinguishable from those russians of the class with whom they associate. pathetic figures some; reluctant to relinquish the passport that alone links them with the land of their fathers, looked at askant by the britons newly out, a nuisance to diplomatists, and a puzzle to the "orthodox." chapter xiv _the french invasion--and after_ "now, robber! look what thou hast done: come, for the strife prepare thee. this land we fight on is our own-- and god's revenge is near thee! zhukovski "napoleon." not unfrequently russia has been treated by the powers of western europe with less consideration for justice than they have observed in their dealings with each other, but on no occasion has a civilised country more grossly outraged the sense of right than did france by its memorable campaign of . it is possible that napoleon still felt piqued because his offer to enter the russian army had been declined by zaborovski in --a rejection which the old general had many times keenly regretted long before --and it may be that napoleon resented his refusal by the princess katerina, and was disgusted that the hand of the princess anna, which he had subsequently sought in marriage, had been bestowed in preference upon a german princelet. it is idle to suppose that technical breaches of the treaty of tilsit by russia--who was unable to stop commercial relations with england--were anything more than a mere pretext for the war. like the wolf in the fable who had determined to devour the lamb that had disturbed the lower waters of the stream, any excuse served this wickedly ambitious upstart to gratify his lust for further spoils and military glory. doubtless napoleon--before whom latin and teutonic kings bowed low and their subjects trembled when he but feigned to unsheath his sword--expected that the formidable preparations he made for war would awe russia into submission, and thus gratify his vanity: but russia heeded his bluster as little as did england, so, with the eyes of europe upon him, he had no option but to drink up the liquor he had uncorked. russia doubted his seriousness, but regarded the inevitable with equanimity. it seemed improbable that france, after centuries of enlightenment and progress, with its professed love of philosophy, art and culture, should raid russia for pelf--just as tartars, kalmucks, and hordes of rough unlettered barbarians out of asia had done in ages past. if it were so to be, russia doubted not but she could triumph over the forces of the west even as she had done over those of the east. on the th june the french army crossed the niemen unopposed, and five days later occupied vilna, where napoleon expected attack, but, unmolested for eighteen days, moved on towards vitebsk. the russian army, commanded by barclay de tolly, did nothing more than cause the invaders to manoeuvre unceasingly, and advance further into the country. on the banks of the dvina napoleon thought to end the campaign of ; recuperate his army and march against moscow the following spring; but as yet no action had been fought, so he again hurried on after the russians, this time towards smolensk. it is held that the withdrawal of the russians disconcerted napoleon; but he had already met other armies than the english, so to him this retreat of his enemy was not new. he expected to come up with the russians at smolensk, but barclay de tolly, although assuring the inhabitants of their safety, sent away the treasure and had determined to abandon the town. it was garrisoned by but one regiment when neverovski fell back upon it after his engagement with the french at krasnoe. raevski, sent to his aid, entrenched his troops and determined to hold the town until the two armies under tolly and bagrateon, then encamped on the left bank of the dnieper, should arrive. but they fell further back instead of advancing, and after one day's fighting, with terrible loss, the russians evacuated after setting fire to the town. napoleon remained there four days, then followed the russians towards moscow. notwithstanding his proclamations of amity towards the peasants, his promises of freedom for the serfs, the people began to realise that the march of the _grande armée_ was as disastrous as an incursion of the tartar horde. the country was devastated; the houses were pillaged; the owners shot; churches deserted; horses stabled in the sacred places; holy ikons burnt; matrons and maidens ravished by these heroes of the "twenty nations" of the west. resistance there must be and the villagers took up arms; kutuzov took chief command of the army, but barclay de tolly still gave his advice, and general sir robert wilson remained tactical counsellor. on august th (old style) the russians gave battle on the banks of the moskva, near borodino. in this "battle of the generals" about , men were engaged on each side, and , were killed, among them generals and other officers of high rank in the french army; and commanding officers on the russian side. over , corpses and , dead horses were found in the field of battle, and though the russians retreated, the french halted five days, then they moved forward upon moscow, being nearly starved and quite tired of the war. kutuzov had then to decide whether or not to risk another battle in an attempt to save moscow. at the council of war, held at fili. barclay de toily said that when it was a matter of the salvation of russia, moscow was only a city like any other. other generals, like grabbe, declared that although it would be glorious to die before moscow, the question they had to decide was not what would add to their glory, but to the defeat of the enemy. prince eugen of wurtemburg held that honour ought to be placed before all, and that moscow ought to become the tomb of every true russian, all should choose death rather than flight. wilson, whose object was rather the defeat of napoleon than the preservation of russia, said moscow, to them, must be only a city, "like any other." ermolev, ostermann, beningsen and others were in favour of a last battle. "amid such diverse counsel." said kutuzov, "my head, be it good or bad, must decide for itself," and he ordered a retreat through the town, but he himself would not enter it, and wept as he hurriedly passed the suburbs. during the first decade of the eighteenth century there were joyous days in moscow; in alexander was crowned; in he revisited the town when there were public rejoicings for the victories over the turks; when in , after the outbreak of hostilities alexander came to moscow, the patriotic citizens promised to raise , men in that district and equip them. the tsar returned to st petersburg and appointed count rostopchin governor; a clever man, courtier, wit, cynic, he proved an able administrator, possessed the gift of inciting and controlling the uneducated masses, so his plan to destroy the city escaped opposition from the inhabitants. rostopchin studied the peasants' ways and knew how to throw dust in the eyes of all. "i do everything to gain the goodwill of everybody. my two visits to the iberian mother of god, the freedom of access i allow to all, the verification of weights and measures, even the fifty blows with a stick to a sub-officer who made the mujiks wait too long for their salt, have won me the confidence of your devoted and faithful subjects. i resolved at any disagreeable news to question its truth; by this means i weaken the first impression and before there is time to verify it, other news will come which will need to be attended to." the government mistrusted the people, most of whom are serfs, and might allow themselves to be tempted by the proclamations of "freedom for all" which were issued by napoleon. rostopchin gave the patriot glinka , roubles to be used as would best serve the interests of moscow, but glinka returned the money, for all were ready enough to resist the invader. rostopchin invented victories: he caused news of one by ostermann and another by wittgenstein to be promulgated, and though sensible people did not believe him, the ignorant were faithful to the end. "fear nothing," he said to the citizens; "a storm has come; we will dissipate it; the grist will be ground into meal. some think napoleon is coming to stay; others that he thinks only to skin us. he makes the soldiers expect the field-marshal's _baton_, beggars think to get gold, and while such simpletons await him, he takes them by the neck and hurls them to death." again: "i will answer with my head that the scoundrel shall not enter the city; if he attempts this i shall call on all. forward, comrades of moscow! let us out to fight. we shall be , ; we shall take with us the ikon of the virgin, guns and be sure we shall finish the affair one and all." after borodino he issued another proclamation: "brothers, we are many and ready to sacrifice life for the salvation of our land, and prevent the scoundrel entering moscow; you must help. moscow is our mother; she has suckled us, nursed us, enriched us. in the name of the mother of god i call on you to help to defend the holy places of moscow, of russia! arm yourselves how you can, on foot or horseback, take only enough food for three days, go with the holy cross, preceded by the standards from the churches, and assemble on the three hills. i shall be there, and together we will exterminate the invaders. glory in heaven for those who go! eternal peace for those who die! punishment at the last day for all who hold back!" to the last rostopchin nursed the illusion of the citizens; he told them men were at work upon some wonderful military engine--a fire balloon--which would destroy the french army instantaneously. meanwhile the archbishop augustine, who had ordered the procession through the town of the ikons of the iberian mother of god, the virgin of smolensk, was instructed to take the sacred treasures to vladimir. rostopchin had but one serious complaint against kutuzov; he had asked for three days' notice if the town was to be abandoned, he got but twenty-four hours. everything of value that could be removed was packed and sent away; there was a general exodus on the night of the st september (old style) and rostopchin left with the russian army, the rear-guard of which was quitting the city by the preobrajenski suburb at the same time that the advance-guard of the french army entered it by the dragomilov zastava. before he left rostopchin opened the prisons, gave the lowest class the entry to the arsenal, and ordered the stores to be fired; also, he put to death one vereshchagin, accused of publishing napoleon's proclamation, a deed that was no less criminal because needless. and here rostopchin's work ended; if he had received longer notice of kutuzov's decision to abandon the town he would doubtless have saved more of the valuable portable property of state and church, and _might_ have destroyed the town. with reference to all the correspondence that ensued as to the party responsible for the firing of moscow, it can be said only that rostopchin and the russians would like to have had the credit for making a so magnificent sacrifice, but it was of political expedience that the russians should believe the destruction of the holy places and their revered city directly due to the invader. the apologists of napoleon attribute his misconduct of the campaign to ill-health; as likely as not the thwarting of his plans by the enemy, his defeats and doubtful victories caused his illness. whether his genius failed him or not, there can be no doubt of the magnitude of the conception and the utter ineptitude exhibited in its execution. after borodino his generals lost faith in him; they remained taciturn and morose, until at two o'clock on the afternoon of september the nd, the staff obtained their first view of moscow from the summit of the poklonnaya hill, the "salutation" point of the sparrow hills. in the bright sunlight of the early autumn, the city, resplendent with gold domes and glittering crosses, seemed the fitting goal for their long deferred hopes and they of one accord raised a joyful shout, "_moscou! à moscou!_" even napoleon expressed his admiration and delight, and received the warm congratulations of his now enthusiastic generals. it was rumoured that an officer had arrived from the town to discuss terms of surrender: napoleon halted, but grew uneasy when the expected messenger could not be found and there were no signs of an approaching delegate or of that deputation of gorgeously robed boyards he had fondly hoped would attend his coming to surrender the keys of the kremlin and sue for his clemency towards the citizens. an hour before he had commanded count duronelle to hurry on to moscow and arrange for the ostentatious performance of the customary ceremony. he was now told that the town had been abandoned by the officials, that the citizens had forsaken it, but moscow, empty it is true, was at his feet. murat had found a few stragglers, amongst them a french type-setter, and these wretched fugitives were ordered before the staff, and by their spokesman begged for protection. "imbecile" was the only word napoleon trusted himself to answer. his chagrin, his wounded self-love, his mortification at the unexpected turn of affairs unnerved him. one of the russian prisoners describes the effect of the news thus:-- "napoleon was thoroughly overcome and completely lost his self-control. his calm and regular step was changed into a quick, uneven tread. he kept looking around him, fidgetted, stood still, trembled all over, looked fierce, tweaked his own nose, pulled a glove off and put it on again, tore another glove out of his pocket, rolled it up into a ball, and, as if in deep thought, put it into his other pocket, again took it out, and again put it back, pulled the other glove from his hand, then quickly drew it on again, and kept repeating this process. this went on for an hour, during which the generals standing behind him remained like statues, not even daring to move." various accounts are given respecting the first entry of the troops into moscow. some of the inhabitants who remained, having faith in the assurances of rostopchin, welcomed the invaders believing them to be some of the foreign allies of the russian army. an official who had not been able to escape states that he saw some serfs carrying arms from the arsenal, one, who was intoxicated had a musket in one hand and in the other a carbine, for remarking upon the folly of such an armament, the man threw first the musket then the carbine at him, and a crowd of rioters rushed from the arsenal all armed, as the advance-guard of the french approached. the captain begged an interpreter to advise the crowd to throw down their arms and not engage in an unequal struggle, but the ignorant people, excited if not intoxicated, fired a few rounds accidentally, or by design, and the french thereupon made use of their artillery, and a wild fight ensued. after some ten or a dozen had been sabred, the others asked for quarter, and received it. another story is to the effect that some of the armed citizens mistaking a general for napoleon, fired at him as he approached the kremlin and were then charged by his guard and put to flight. when later, napoleon rode up to the borovitski gate, a decrepid soldier, a tottering veteran, too stubborn to forsake his post, resolutely blocked the way and was mercilessly struck down by the advance-guard. the fires commenced the same evening that the french entered the town; there were no engines available and the soldiers, hungry and joyful, disregarded the danger and attended to their more immediate needs. rostopchin had ordered that the contents of the "cellars" should be burned, but there was no lack of liquor, and the conquerors were not to be denied. as the "warriors" sing in zhukovski's epic:-- "o, yes!--the ruby stream to drain is glory's pride and pleasure-- wine! conqueror thou of care and pain, thou art the hero's treasure." so whilst rank and file caroused, the small beginnings of the great conflagration were neglected and men were powerless to cope with the later developments, though some worked like trojans. the stores of oil, of spirits, the inflammable wares in the gostinnoi dvor were ignited, and although marshal mortier worked well to extinguish the fires near the kremlin, the lack of engines and the continuous outbursts of fresh fires, made complete success impossible. the looting of the town commenced at once; soon the greedy soldiers left their partly cooked rations to search for valuables, even the sentinels forsook their posts and they fought with the rabble from the prisons for such goods as seemed most easily removed. in time, not content with such as had been abandoned, they commenced to rob from the person; women were spoiled of head-dresses and gowns, the men fought with each other for the temporary possession of pelf. the only lights for this unholy work were the torches all carried and the fires the looters set ablaze in order that they might see. when napoleon thought the conflagration was the result of a preconcerted scheme he ordered all incendiaries to be shot, and then none durst carry a light by night without risk of being there and then shot by some predatory soldier on his own initiative, or, not less surely executed in due form after a mock court-martial at dawn of day. discipline was lax; among the soldiery of the army of occupation, many bold souls did just as they wished, and of their enormities, their cruelties and shameful orgies, nothing need be written. others had leave of absence--a licence to pilfer. they not only ransacked the occupied houses, but dragged people from their hiding places, harnessed them to carts, with bayonet and worse urged them on, heavily laden, through burning streets, and saving themselves from the crumbling walls and roofs, saw their miserable captives crushed, buried, or struggling among the burning debris, and abandoned to their fate. in the immediate neighbourhood of the kremlin the pilfering was official; in the cathedral of the assumption, great scales and steelyards were set up, and outside two furnaces, one for gold the other for silver, were kept ever burning to melt down the settings torn from the sacred pictures, the church vessels, the gilt ornaments, aye, even the decorations on the priests' robes. horses were stabled in the cathedrals and churches; marshal davoust slept in the sanctuary with sentinels on both sides of the "royal doors" of the ikonostas. "destroy that mosque," was napoleon's peremptory order to one of his generals with reference to the church of the protection of the virgin, but he delayed executing the order finding this cathedral convenient as a stable and storehouse. at first the fire was most severe in the warehouses flanking the grand square and along the quays. it spread most rapidly amidst the great stores on the south side of the river. the balchoog was a sea of flame and the whole of the zamoskvoretski quarter was practically destroyed. on the other side the burning gostinnoi dvor ignited neighbouring stores in the nikolskaya, ilyinka and elsewhere on the kitai gorod. the gleeds carried by a north wind threatened the palaces in the kremlin--where, under a cloud of sparks, the buildings glowed red and seemed to many to be also burning. the ammunition had already been brought there and caused the french great anxiety. napoleon, after a peaceful night in the royal palace, was unwilling to believe that the tires were other than accidental, but as the day waned and the fires increased in number as well as size, he grew agitated and exclaimed, "they are true to themselves these scythians! it is the work of incendiaries; what men then are they, these scythians!" he passed the next night in the kremlin, but not at rest. it was with the greatest difficulty that the soldiers on the roof of the palace disposed of the burning fragments that at times fell upon the metal like a shower of hail. the heat was intense; the stores of spirits exploded, and blue flames hid the yellow and orange of the burning timbers and darted with lightning rapidity in all directions, a snake-like progress through the denser parts of the town, firing even the logs of wood with which the streets were at that time paved. when the fire reached the hospitals, where , unfortunate wounded lay almost helpless, scenes of unmitigated horror were witnessed by the invaders unable to succour, and chiefly intent on their own safety. the famous imperial guard stationed in the kremlin was divided into two sections; one was occupied in struggling against the fire, the other held all in readiness for instant flight. at last the church of the trinity caught fire, and whilst the guard at once set about its destruction, napoleon, with the king of naples, murat, beauharnais, berthier and his staff, left the kremlin hurriedly for the petrovski palace. the tverskaya was ablaze, passage by that way impossible; the party crossed for the nikitskaya but in the neighbourhood of the arbat lost their way, and after many adventures and near escapes found the suburbs, and by a roundabout route reached the palace at nightfall. in many places the fire had burned out by september the th, and that night a heavy rain, luckily continued during the next day, stopped the spread of the fire, and on sunday the th, napoleon returned over the still smouldering embers to his old quarters in the kremlin. amidst or near by the cinders of the capital, napoleon remained for more than a month. the remaining inhabitants suffered great hardships; some fraternised with the french soldiers and helped in quenching fires, but parties accused of incendiarism were still led out almost daily to execution. the french residents were in a most pitiable condition; napoleon could not or would not do anything for them; they, and the rest of the citizens, with many of the soldiers were soon threatened with starvation. this campaign more than any other undertaking of his life, reveals the despicable character of napoleon as a man; even as a commander he seemed to have lost grip of the serious situation of his troops: he, who at one time could never make a mistake now only happened on the right thing by accident, and that rarely. in an impoverished province, amidst a famished population, he could not possibly winter his army, but acted as though he intended to do so. he made stupid speeches respecting the career of peter the great; read up the proclamations of pugatchev, hoping to find in them something which would enable him to incite the people to rebel; tried even to make allies of the tartars, and failed; at the same time he sent again and again to alexander professing warm personal friendship and readiness to conclude peace. alexander heard his overtures with silent contempt. the russian generals were mercilessly harassing the divisions of the great army in the provinces, and armed bands of peasants sought revenge on those invaders who had violated women and children, and desecrated the churches. on october the th, napoleon decided to begin his retreat on the morrow, and that same evening drew up a scheme for the visit of a parisian theatrical company to moscow and its installation there. of precious metal from the churches of the kremlin, nearly five tons of silver and four and a half hundredweights of gold had been melted into ingots. the great wooden cross, thirty feet in length, which surmounted ivan veliki, had been regilt at great cost but the year before, and the french, thinking it solid gold, threw it down. like all the crosses, it was of worthless material, but contained a small cross of pure gold, which these disgusted pillagers failed to find. when the time came for napoleon to leave moscow he was unwilling that any should know his intention. "perhaps i shall return to moscow," he said to one of his company, but as he had already given orders to lariboisiere, the chief of artillery, to destroy the kremlin, he doubtless, better than anyone else, knew that this could not be. napoleon thought to destroy everything of value left standing in the town; walls, towers, palaces, churches, convents, monasteries--all were ruined. "the defeat of murat at tarutin forced napoleon to hurry away earlier than he intended, and to marshal mortier was left the task of destruction. he having made the requisite preparations left during the night of the - th october, and, not far from fili, gave the signal by cannon for the firing of the mines. it was a terrible explosion in the darkness and stillness of night; it killed some and wounded many, and was followed quickly by minor explosions at different points." napoleon failed even in this attempt; the damage done was trifling--the tower over the nikolski gate fell, so did one at the corner of the kremlin wall. there were breaches here and there, but churches and other buildings remained intact. it is said that the heavy rain destroyed the trains of gunpowder to the mines, from which subsequently sixty tons of the explosive were taken. fesanzac states mortier intentionally used powder of bad quality, not wishing to destroy the buildings; it is more probable that he used the best he could get and that the director of artillery was unwilling to waste serviceable munitions of war he might require later. the story of the retreat of the grande armée is well known and need not be recapitulated here. if the french and their allies suffered, the peasants also endured terrible hardships. shot down for defending the honour of their wives and daughters; for protecting their property; for refusing to honour the false hundred rouble notes napoleon had ordered to be printed in order to reward his soldiers; on any and every other pretence whatever, they yet accomplished a terrible revenge, harassing the invaders to the last. the french slew and destroyed; wrecked old walls, desecrated churches, and in sheer spite threw the spoil they could not carry further into the rivers and lakes. wilson urged kutuzov to engage the refugees, whom he termed ghosts roaming too far from their graves, but kutuzov trusted to the cold and the distance to wear out the remnant of the great army. he underestimated the powers of human endurance, some , escaped of the half million or more that had invaded russia. napoleon, that "incomparable military genius," does not appear on this occasion to have possessed the astuteness even of the mediæval tartar khans, who on their invasions withdrew "without ostensible cause" at the end of the season. more selfish than they, he saved himself by deserting his men. they died like flies on the approach of winter; some were burned during their sleep by outraged peasants; more were slipped through holes in the ice; many reached vilna only to be entrapped by the russian soldiers, or, if still more unfortunate, tossed from the upper windows of the ghetto and kicked to death by old polish jewesses in the streets. piteous? yes, but it is the pity one feels for the burglarious murderer who falls on the spikes of the area railings. the invasion of the twenty nations had even such inglorious ending; its effect upon the muscovites was similar to that which followed a great tartar raid; it was unexpected--disastrous, and, as long as remembered, engendered in the russ that same distrust of the west it had previously entertained of the east. in moscow there are now few traces of the french invasion, for its effect was general rather than particular. the palace occupied by napoleon has been destroyed; in its place the tsar nicholas built his new imperial residence, from the windows of which may still be seen the old borovitski gate, by which napoleon first entered and last left the kremlin. beyond that gate there is now an immense and stately pile, the magnificent new cathedral of our saviour, built by the people in gratitude for their deliverance from the invaders. a monument that furnishes conclusive evidence that the spirit of earnestness which actuated the old cathedral builders is not yet extinct in russia. one other memorial of the times will attract the attention of visitors to the kremlin: arranged along the front of the arsenal, opposite the senate house, are ranged the cannon captured from, or abandoned by, the _grande armée_. the inscriptions, one in french the other in russian, on the plates to the [illustration: borovitski gate and st saviour's cathedral] right and left of the principal entrance set forth the origin of these trophies. most of the weapons have the napoleonic initial boldly engraved upon the breech; actually only are french; there are austrian, prussian, neapolitan, bavarian, westphalian, saxon, hanoverian, italian, wurtemburgian, spanish, dutch, polish--in all . before the great fire there were over brick or stone buildings in moscow, and about of wood; the fire destroyed over of the brick buildings and some of the wooden dwellings. it may seem strange that so many of the old buildings escaped. of course the old convents, monasteries and churches in the suburbs, like the novo devichi, simonov, petrovski palace, etc., were beyond the limit of the fire; the remainder, many of them, stood in their own grounds or were isolated from other buildings, much as the strastnoi monastyr is now. at that time, although the town limits were practically the same as at present--the line of the kammer college rampart--the houses were fewer and, outside the kitai gorod, few streets consisted of continuous rows of houses. if the visitor wishes to have a clear comprehension of the sort of town, in detail, the great village of moscow was at the beginning of this century, a drive along the sadovia or through the side streets between that thoroughfare and the boundary will help its acquisition. more, it will bring him face to face with the best of the buildings of "skorodom" that sprang from among the cinders of the great conflagration. a pleasant, bungalow-like, garden-town; spacious houses, with pretentious façades in the pseudo-classic style of the first empire; mostly squat and inconvenient, irregular, bright with native carpentry, stucco, painted metal roofs, and clean washed walls. it is this moscow that is so picturesque and so rapidly disappearing before the march of industrialism, sanitation, and an increasing population. when alexander i. visited the town in , great haste was made to present a fair show of dwellings in the vast open spaces; some, painted and distempered, were without windows, roofs, staircases, or even floors; these walls, then little more than the semblances of buildings, just such as now put on the stage, were later utilised by fitting dwellings, of a sort, to them. some have long served their purpose; others, curious, quaint and singular, still remain--but he who would see them must not long delay. with reference to the historic and sacred buildings, those answerable for their keeping sought only to restore, enrich, and preserve. at no time has moscow possessed more or better memorials of the past than she does at present. the risk of destruction by fire has greatly lessened; of further demolition by ruthless invaders there is, happily, no longer a possibility, and the slower but not less certain destruction from the inroad of industrialism may be stayed by the timely awakening of the moscow citizens to the value of the relics they possess, and the desire not only to preserve them for their own sake, but also as ornaments to the old town of which all are so fond and now anxious to beautify. chapter xv _itinerary and miscellaneous information_ "some few particulars i have set down fit to be known of your crude traveller."--ben jonson. to many moscow seems so far distant, and russia so unknown, that a few hints to intending travellers may be welcome. in the first place as to the best season for the journey; notwithstanding all the claims advanced in favour of winter--and they are not inconsiderable--for a first visit, or an only visit, the summer is preferable. moscow, the brilliant and gorgeous is seen at its best in the bright sunlight; it is more picturesque and more conveniently to be viewed in detail or entirety. the latter part of june is the best period for then is the season of the "white nights" when there is no need of street lamps and the days are more than long enough for sight-seeing. the shortest and best route is by way of flushing, berlin, warsaw and smolensk: distance from london miles; time hours. return tickets available for six weeks may be purchased at any london terminus: first class £ , s. d., second class £ , s. d. through travellers should start by the night service from london, and change trains in berlin at the zoologischer garten station; leave moscow by the p.m. train and in berlin change at the alexanderplatz station; by these through services the drive across warsaw is avoided. of the many other routes that recommended as the most enjoyable is _via_ gothenburg, by the canal to stockholm and thence by the excellent steamers to abo, hango, helsingfors or direct to st petersburg and on to moscow by the nikolai railway. by all routes a foreign office passport, visé by the russian consul, is indispensable. compared with the leading hotels in other great towns, those of moscow leave much to be desired. hotel billo on the great lubianka is centrally situated and much frequented by the english visitors, who there find adequate accommodation and the greatest courtesy. hotel dresden, on the tverskaya, is upon even higher ground, opposite the residence of the governor-general; hotel continental facing the grand theatre, and the moskovski traktir, opposite the vosskresenski gate, are also well kept and are near the kremlin; the slavianski bazaar is in the kitai gorod. the russian custom, which it is advisable should be followed if a long stay is made, is to take rooms in a hotel or elsewhere; the rent includes heating in winter, and the use of the samovar twice daily. the kokoref hotel, on the south side of the river, is one of the largest establishments on this plan and many of its rooms command superb views of the kremlin (see p. ) and are in demand by english visitors on this account. the restaurants are good; in summer the visitor should not fail to lunch in the lofty court of the slavianski bazaar which, like the bolshoi moskovski traktir, is much used by business men. for native dishes the praga, on the arbat, and tyestov's, on the vosskresenski place, are the best; the ermitage, on the trubaya is more ostentatious, but the cuisine is good; the saratov (srietenka boulevard) is favoured by university students. at all the service is excellent, and the old-fashioned attire of the waiters unconventional and pleasing. the peculiarly local dishes comprise: ikra (fresh caviare), batvennia and okroshka (iced soups), shchee (cabbage soup with sour cream), ukha (fish soup), beluga, osternia, etc. (different varieties of sturgeon), porosianok (cold boiled sucking pig with horse-radish sauce), rasolnik, yazu and barannybok are made dishes; the appropriate beverage is one of the many varieties of kvas, which will be served iced in fine old silver beakers or tankards of native workmanship. tea with lemon at the café philipov, on the tverskaya. many tourists whilst on a yachting cruise in the baltic avail themselves of the steamer's stay in the neva to make a hurried visit to moscow. to them, and others whose stay is necessarily of short duration, the following itinerary may be useful:-- ( ) drive through the kitai gorod, the grand square, across the moskvoretski bridge, along the quay to the kammeny most; cross the river and enter the kremlin by the troitski gate and alight at ivan veliki. visit the cathedrals and monasteries of the kremlin (chs. viii., ix.); the great palace and terem (ch. vii.); potieshni dvorets (ch. viii.). later drive out to the novo devichi convent (ch. xii.); thence to the ferry before sunset, dine at the restoran krinkin, return to the mala kammeny most by steamer--or by tram to the kaluga place--see the kremlin by moonlight from the kokoref. ( ) iberian chapel (ch. vii.); historical museum (ch. ii.); treasury (orujni palata) in the kremlin (ch. vii.); spass na boru (ch. ix.); ascension convent (ch. xii.); through the redeemer gate (ch. xiii.); vasili blajenni (ch. iv.); old gostinni dvor, dom romanovykh (ch. xi.); walk up the starai ploshchad, inside wall of the kitai gorod, to church of st nicholas of the great cross. then up through the market, or outside the wall to the vladimirski vorot (ch. ix.); the churches and monasteries in the nikolski to st mary of kazan behind the town hall. later up the lubianka to the church and monastery of the srietenka (ch. x.); the sukharev bashnia, along the boulevard to the strastnoi monastery (ch. xii.); drive past the triumphalnia to khodinski pole, the petrovski palace, park, etc. _note._--the dom romanovykh is usually open from until on tuesdays, thursdays and saturdays; the treasury on the same days; and the great palace, terem, etc., on alternate days with these. ( ) english church, conservatorium, old and new universities, manege, rumiantsev museum (ch. x.); new cathedral (ch. xiv.). later to the tretiakov gallery (ch. x.); the danilovski and donskoi monastyrs (ch. xii.); drive home across the krimski bridge, skorodom and the sadovia. ( ) matveiev memorial (ch. x.); church of st nicholas, church of the nativity (ch. viii.); foundling hospital, novo spasski monastyr (ch. xii.); krutitski vorot (p. ); simonov monastyr (ch. xii.) and return. later to krasnoe vorot and prud, and sokolniki. ( ) taininskoe; church, palace and park at ostankina, mordva (ch. xi.); petrovski-razoomovski, etc. drives from the town (_a_) over the dragomilov bridge to the village of fili, memorial church, and _izba_ with a museum of memorials of the council of war held there by napoleon in (ch. xiv.). (_b_) by the krestovski zastava to the old church of the regency at taininskoe; the seventeenth century church at ostankina; near by is the "palace," a wooden mansion belonging to the sheremetiev family; beyond the park and village of sirlovo is the mordva hamlet, (ch. xii.). (_c_) by the preobrajenski zastava to the suburb of that name (ch. vii.), and transfiguration cemetery, and principal establishment of the bezpopovtsi sect of old believers (ch. ix.). (_d_) by the rogojski zastava to the cemetery and church of that name for the religious services of the old believers, (ch. ix.). excursions by railway few visitors to moscow leave russia without seeing the troitsa monastery ( versts on the yaroslav railway), mentioned in chapter v. and elsewhere, but although closely connected with the history of moscow not within the scope of this book. other places of like or different interest are: the new jerusalem monastery near krukova, versts on the nikolai railway and about miles thence by road; the battlefield of borodino, ( versts on the smolensk railway); nijni-novgorod, versts, but the pleasure fair has been discontinued and the celebrated yearly market is now exclusively commercial. bibliography of the english books treating of old muscovy the best contemporaneous accounts have been reprinted in the five volumes of the hakluyt society's publications devoted to early travels in russia. the best contemporary life of peter i. in english is that by alex. gordon; among the best recently published, the translation of k. waliszewski's study, and eugene scuyler's account of the life and times of peter the great. for matters ecclesiastical albert f. heard's russian church and russian dissent will be found most informing, and mr w. j. birkbeck's history of the eastern church society's work of more particular interest to anglicans. in another field mr alfred maskell's "russian art" may be found useful, and the antiquary will find much that is curious and suggestive in "l'art russe: ses origines," etc., by e. e. viollet le duc (paris, ). photography amateur photographers should join the russian photographic society, whose members alone have the right to photograph throughout the empire. otherwise it will be necessary to obtain permission of the chief of the police in each town or district. the kremlin is technically a fortress, and the use of the camera within the walls forbidden, but leave is given--on personal application to the governor--to those who are already furnished with the police permit, or are members of the photographic society. application for membership should be made, prior to visiting russia, to the secretary, russian photographic society, dom djamgarof, kusnetski most, moscow. [illustration: plan of moscow] index a adashef, , . alarm tower, . aleviso, fioraventi, , . alexander gardens, , , . alexandrina palace, . alexis, st, , , _ff._ alexis, tsar, , ff, , . all saints' church, . all saints' day, fire on, . ambrose, archbishop, . amusements, . annunciation, cath. of, _ff._ and _see_ blagovieshchenski sobor, church of, . arbat, , , , . archangelski sobor, _ff._ architecture, muscovite, , , ; arches, ; church, , diversity of, ; domestic, , , ; ecclesiastical, ; origin of muscovite, ; of "skorodom," , . arms of moscow, , . ---- of romanofs, . ---- of russia, . =art=, bookbinders', ; byzantine examples, , , ; church, , ; decorative, ; ecclesiastic, ; frescoes, ; gems and jewellery, ; gothic influence on muscovite, , ; ikon-portraiture, ; metal work, ; pictorial, ; wall-paintings, , . askold and dyr, . ascension convent, , and _see_ vossnesenski. assumption, cath. of, _ff_; and _see_ uspenski sobor. ---- church of, . b baati, . balaam, metrop., . barmi, . basmanovs, , , . beards and fines, . belskis, , . best, harry, . bells, founding, . ---- moscow, _ff._ belvederes, , , . bibliography, . bielo-gorod, , , . bielo-ozersk, , . black clergy, . blagovieshchenski sobor, , , _ff._ "blessed willie," . blessing the water, . bogoloobski, andrew, , . bogoyavlenni monastyr, , . bomel, dr e., , . borodino, battle of, . borovitski vorot, , , . bowes, jeremy, , . boyards, ; customs of, ; duma of, , . brides of the tsars, , . bruce, field-marshal, ; tomb of, . byzantium and moscow, . ---- style of in, . ---- symbols of, . c cannon, , , . carriages and harness, . caspian, jenkinson on the, . cathedrals, location of, ; _see_ sobor and xram. chancellor, r., , . chani-bek, . chapel of st dmitri, . ---- st gabriel, . ---- st george, . ---- sts. peter and paul, . ---- st samon, . _see_ also church. characteristics of boyards, , , . ---- ivan iv., . characteristics of peter i., . ---- moscow, , , . ---- moscow citizens, . ---- moscow princes, , . charm of moscow, , . chasovia, _see_ chapels. chastok, . chemiaki, , , . chibanov, . christianity in russia, , , , - , _ff._ chudov monastyr, , _ff._ church, russian, _ff_; feasts of, , and tsar, , , , ; and western church, , ; saves moscow, , . church of st ambrose, . ---- st balaam, . ---- st catherine, . ---- sts constantine and helen, . ---- st george, . ---- st james, . ---- st jehosaphat, . ---- st john the baptist, , . ---- st lazarus, , , . ---- st nikanor, . ---- st nikolas, . ---- st prokhor, . ---- st saviour's, . ---- the apostles, . ---- nativity and flight, . ---- our saviour on high, , . ---- vasili blajenni, , , . churches of the bielo-gorod, , , . ---- kitai-gorod, . ---- kremlin, . ---- palace, _ff._ ---- suburbs, , , . ---- zemlianni-gorod, , , . citizens and tsar, , . city of churches, . constantinople, _see_ byzantium. convent, ascension, . ---- conception, . ---- nativity, . ---- nikitski, . ---- novo devichi, . ---- strastnoi (passion), , . ---- zachatievski, . convent-life, , . cossacks, , . crimean war and english in moscow, . cross, pre-christian, ; russian, , . cruelties, , _ff_, , , , , , , _see_ also ivan iv. and peter i. customs, of early slavs, ; of mediæval moscow, ; curious, , . d daniel mikhailovich, . danilovski monastyr, , . delagardie, general, . dissent and dissenters, , _ff._ diversity of moscow, . dmitri donskoi, , _ff._ ---- "first false," _ff._ ---- ivanovich, , . ---- "second false," , , . ---- of the "terrible eyes," . dogma and ritual, , . dolgoruki, family, , . ---- yuri, . dom chukina, . dom romanovykh, . ---- usupov, . domostroi, , . don cossacks, , . donskoi monastyr, , . drinking habits, - . dukhobortsi, . duma of the boyards, . e ediger, . english in moscow, , , , , _ff._ epiphany, , and _see_ bogoyavlenni. etiquette, muscovite, , . eudoxia, (donskoi), . ---- striechnev, . ---- lapunov, . euphrosina, . express trains, . f fairs, , . famine, , . fioraventi, aleviso, , . fire, the great, _ff._ fires in moscow, , , , , , , . florence, council of, . florovski, _v._ spasski vorot. food of muscovites, , . foreigners in moscow, , , , , , , , , , , _ff_, . foundling hospital, . french cannon captured, , . ---- invasion, _ff_; settlers, . g gaden, dr, . galitzin, kniaz, . galloway, chris, , . gates, _see_ vorot. george, prince, . ---- st. , . glinski, helena, , . gluiski, , . godunov, boris, , _ff_, . ---- theodore, . golden gates, . ---- hall, . ---- horde, _see_ tartars. ---- palace, , . ---- ---- lesser, , , . "good companions," . gordon, patrick, . ---- alexander, . gostinnoi dvok, . granovitaia palata, , , , . greeting, manner of, , . griffins, heraldic, . h hamilton, miss, . herberstein, , . hermogen, patriarch, . historical museum, , . "holy bread," , . ---- coat, . ---- corridor, . ---- moscow, . ---- vestments, . horsey, jerom, , , , , , , , . ---- adventures of, _ff._ hotels, . houses, early dwellings, ; in skorodom, ; of russia company, , _see_ also dom. i iberian chapel, , and _see_ vosskresenski vorot. igor, . ikonostas, , , , . ikons, . ---- _in relievo_, . ---- miraculous, , , . ---- "nerukotvorenni," _ff_, , . ---- "not made with hands," _ff_, . ---- private and personal, . ---- remarkable, . ---- trimorphic, , . ---- varieties of, . ---- virgin of pechersk, . ---- virgin of vladimir, , . ---- wonder-working, . ilyinka, vorot, . irene, princess, - , . ivan i., _ff._ ivan ii., . ivan iii., - . ivan iv., _et seq._, anecdotes of, , _ff_; atrocities of, _ff_, _ff._, ; tricks of, , ; victims of, ; wives, ; wizards, . ivan v., . ivan "groznoi" _v._ ivan iv. ivan the idiot, . ivan kalita _v._ ivan i. ivan krestitel _v._ st john the baptist. ivan "the terrible" _v._ ivan iv. ivan veliki, , . j jenkinson, anthony, . jerusalem gate, . jitny dvor, . john _v._ ivan. john the baptist, , . k kammer college rampart, , . karamzin, . kazak _v._ cossack. kazan, , , . ---- virgin of, . kazi-ghiree, khan, , . khingiz, khan, , . khlysti, . kholmogori, . kief, , , , . kitai-gorod, , , , , , , , . kontchaka, . kourbski, prince, . krasnoe kriltso, , . ---- ploshchad, , . ---- vorot, . ---- ugol, . kremlin, , , ; derivation of, ; dwellings in, ; sights of, _ff_; view of, ; walls, , . krim-tartars, . krimski-brode, . krimski-val, . krutitski vorot, , . kulikovo, . kutaifa, . kutchko, stephen, . kuznetski most, . l latin in moscow, . lazarus, church of st, , , . le bruyn, . legal procedure, . libraries, . "life for the tsar," . lithuania, , , . lobnoe mesto, , , . m mahommedans and muscovites, , , , , , , , . maiden's field, , and _see_ novo devichi. mamai, khan, _ff._ marina-roshcha, . marosseika, . marriage customs, , , . mary of vladimir, , . ---- church of, . matvievs, , . medich, . miaschanska, . michael, tsar, , _ff._ milosavskis, , . minin, cosma, , . mniszek, maria, , , , . monasteries, early, ; existing, _ff_; _see_ also convents. monks and monasticism, _ff._ mordva, . morozof, boyard, . ---- boyarina, , . moscow, arms of, ; charm of, , , ; derivation of name, ; fires in, , , , , , ; the golden, ; looted by the french, ; sieges of, , , , , ; unconventionality of, ; views in, , ; winter in, . moshi, , . moskva river, , , , . most (bridge), kuznetski, ; kammeni, ; krasnoe kholmski, ; krimski, . mstislavskis, , . muscovy and britain, , . ---- lithuania, . ---- livonia, . ---- poland, _ff_, . ---- tartary, _ff_, . muscovites of british descent, . ---- allied with tartars, . museums, . mystery plays, . n napoleon, , _ff._ naryshkin, family of, . natalia, tsaritsa, , . nativity, _see_ rojdestva, . ---- church of . ---- convent of, . neglinnaia, , , . new rows, . nicholas, patron saint, . ---- of galstun, . ---- stylite, . nijni-novgorod, , . nikita, saint, . ---- the preacher, . ---- romanof, . nikolskava, . nikolski vorot, , , . nikon, , . nobles, muscovite, , , , . novgorod the great, , , . novi riadi, . novo devichi convent, , . novo spasski monastyr, . o oddities, , . "old believers," . oleg, . olga, . opritchniks, , _ff._ orthodoxy and dissent, , , . orujenia palata, . osliabia, . osman and ahmed, . ostankina, . otrepief, . "our saviour on high," ch. of, , , . p pageantry, church, . ---- state, , , . palace, chequered, . ---- golden, , . ---- granovitaia, , , . ---- great, . ---- irene's, - , . ---- lesser golden, . palaces, early, ; site of, . paleologus, thomas, . ---- sophia, , , . panagies, . passport, . ---- "to st nicholas," . patriarchs, passage of the, . ---- sacristy of, . ---- , , , _ff_, . patriarshia riznitsa, _ff._ pecherski, , . peresvet, . peter i., , , , _ff_, . petrovski monastery, . ---- palace, , . ---- razoomovski, . philaret, patriarch, , . philip, metropolitan, . ---- church of, . plague riots, . plate, . pleasure palace, , . pojarski, prince, , . poland and muscovy, , . poles in moscow, . polish invasion, _ff._ potieshni dvorets, , . prince and peasant, , . processions, , _ff._ proverbs, muscovite, . prud, chisty, , . ---- krasnoe, . ---- lizin, . public buildings, . ---- clocks, . q quaint survivals, _ff_, , . queen elizabeth, , . r ramparts, kitai-gorod, , . ---- kremlin, ; town, , . "red," _see_ krasnoe. redeemer gate, ; and _see_ spasski vorot. regalia, . relics, , , , ; and _see_ moshi. restaurants, , . riding-school, . rites, funeral, ; marriage, , , . ritual of russian church, , . rojdestva, , . roman church and orthodoxy, , . romanof, anastasia, , . ---- dynasty, _ff_; house, , . _see_ also alexis, peter, philaret, etc. rostopchin, count, . "royal doors," , . ruffo, marco, . rumiantsev museums, . rurik, . russia company, _ff._ s sacristy of the patriarchs, . saints, russian, _ff._ st saviour's, _see_ spass na boru, xram, etc. sakkos, . sanctuary, . scandinavian influence, . schlitte, john, . schools in moscow, , , , . scots in moscow, , . scythians, , . semiradski's pictures, . serfdom, . sergius, saint, . servants' etiquette, . shalkan, . shein, captain, . shooiski, family, , ; vasili, _ff_; michael, . shrines, . simeon bekbulatov, , . ---- the proud, . simonov monastyr, _ff._ skopin, shooiski, , . skoptsi, . skorodom, . skutarov, maluta, , . slavery, . slavs, early, . smolensk, , . sneguirev, , . sobornia ploshchad, . solarius, p. a., . soltikovs, , . sophia, paleologus, , . ---- tsarevna, , _ff_, . sorcery in moscow, , , . sparrow hills, , , , , , . spass na boru, , , , , , . spasski vorot, , , , . srietenka (meeting); street, . ---- monastyr, . "standards," army, ; church, . stenki-razin, . streltsi, , , - . striechnev, family of, . stoves, , , . sukharev bashnia, , . sussanin, . sweedes, . sylvester, . symbols, , , ; cross, ; george and dragon, ; two headed eagle, . t tainitski gate, . taking the veil, , . tamerlane, . tartars, allied with muscovites, ; cause of the invasions, ; defeats of, , , ; insult, ivan vasili, ; ivan iv., ; invasions, , , , , , , , . taylor, john, , . tea, , . terem, , , , ; life in, . theodore i., _ff._ ---- ii., _ff._ ---- godunov, _ff._ ---- romanof, , . ---- st. . thrones, state, ; church, . thronos, . thurifers, . tokhta, . tokhtamysh, khan, . tomb of eudoxia, tsaritsa, . ---- of dmitri, . ---- ivan iv., . ---- simeon, . ---- sophia, tsarevna, . tombs of boyards, ; of matvievs, ; of romanofs, ; of tsars, ; of tsaritsas, ; of varægers, . "tongues," . torture, , ; _v._ cruelties. tower, _see_ also bashnia. ---- alarm, . ---- chastok, . ---- of constantine, . ---- ivan veliki, , . ---- kutaifa, . ---- philaret, . ---- sukharev, . ---- traitors', . ---- tsaritsa's, . ---- watch, . traders, muscovite, . "tranquil" tsar, . treasury, ; and _see_ orujenia palata. treasury, churches, used as, . tretiakov art gallery, . trial by combat, . trinity church, , . triumfalnia, . troitsa monastery, , , , , . troitski vorot, , . turberville, . tver and moscow, , , . "twenty nations," invasion of, _ff._ u uglitch, , , . ugol, krasnoe, . universities, . urusov, princess, . usbek, khan, . uspenski sobor, , , , , _ff._ usupov house, . v val, krimski, . ---- zemlianni, . varoegers, . varvarka, . ---- vorot, . vasili i., . vasili ii., , . vasili iii., . vasili blajenni, . ---- ---- ch. of, , , , . vasili the blind, ; "the squint-eyed," . vassian, archbishop, , . vehicles, primitive, . vereshchagin, . vekkhospasski church, , , . vestments, sacerdotal, . views of moscow, . virgin of jerusalem, . ---- of kazan, . ---- of pechersk, . ---- of smolensk, , . ---- of vladimir, _ff._ vissotski, . vladimir, the great, , ; the brave, ; town of, . vladimirski vorot, . vladislas, tsar, . voievodes, , , . vorot, or gate, ---- arbatski, . ---- borovitski, , , , . ---- florovski, , . ---- ilyinski, . ---- jerusalem, . ---- krasnoe, . ---- krutitski, , . ---- nikolski, , , . ---- prechistenski, , , . ---- "red," . vorot redeemer, , , . ---- spasski, , . ---- sukharev, . ---- tainitski, . ---- troitski, . ---- varvarka, . ---- vladimirski, , . ---- vosskresenski, . vosskresenski vorot, _ff._, , . vossnesenski monastyr, , _ff._ vsevolojskis, . vsevoloshski, . w walls of bielo-gorod, . ---- of kitai-gorod, , . ---- of kremlin, , . ---- of zemlianni-gorod, . watch towers, . weapons, muscovite, . winter in moscow, . wives of ivan iv., . ---- of peter i., , . wizards, , . women in mediæval moscow, , , , , , , , , , , , , , _ff_, , . x xenia, princess, . xram, , . y yauza, . yermak, , . yuri dmitrovich, . ---- dolgoruki, , . z zabielin's private life of tsars, . zachatievski, . za-ikono-spasski monastyr, . zamoskvoretski, , . zapieha, . zaporogians, _ff._ zariadi, . zarutski, . zemlianni gorod, . zlatoustinski, . znamia, . printed by turnbull and spears, edinburgh typographical errors corrected by the etext transcriber: the villiage of palekh=> the village of palekh {pg } upon _fete_ days=> upon _fête_ days {pg } timbers will sagg=> timbers will sag {pg } as an old man=> as on old man {pg } a raised dias=> a raised dais {pg } orignal=> original {pg } interest to anglican's=> interest to anglicans {pg } [frontispiece: the empress of russia and queen alexandra] russian memories by madame olga novikoff "o.k." with an introduction by stephen graham and fifteen illustrations herbert jenkins limited arundel place haymarket london s.w. mcmxvii william brendon and son, ltd., printers, plymouth, england { } introduction by stephen graham it is perhaps a little superfluous for one of my years to write an introduction for one so well known and so much esteemed and admired as madame novikoff. and yet it may seem just, if it does not seem vain, that a full-hearted tribute should come to her from this generation which profits by the result of her life and her work--the great new friendship between england and russia. she is one of the most interesting women in european diplomatic circles. she is a picturesque personality, but more than that she is one who has really done a great deal in her life. you cannot say of her, as of so many brilliant women, "she was born, she was admired, she passed!" destiny used her to accomplish great ends. for many in our society life, she stood for russia, was russia. for the poor people of england russia was represented by the filth of the ghetto and the crimes of the so-called "political" refugees; for the middle classes who read seton merriman, russia was a fantastic country of revolutionaries and bloodthirsty police; but fortunately the ruling and upper classes always have had some better vision, they have had the means of travel, they have seen real representative russians in their midst. { } "they are barbarians, these russians!" says someone to his friend. but the friend turns a deaf ear. "i happen to know one of them," says he. a beautiful and clever woman always charms, whatever her nationality may be, and it is possible for her to make conquests that predicate nothing of the nation to which she belongs. that is true, and therein lay the true grace and genius of madame novikoff. she was not merely a clever and charming woman, she was russia herself. russia lent her charm. thus her friends were drawn from serious and vital england. gladstone learned from her what russia was. the great liberal, the man who, whatever his virtues, and despite his high religious fervour, yet committed liberalism to anti-clericalism and secularism, learned from her to pronounce the phrase, "holy russia." he esteemed her. with his whole spiritual nature he exalted her. she was his beatrice, and to her more than to anyone in his life he brought flowers. morley has somehow omitted this in his biography of gladstone. like so many intellectual radicals he is afraid of idealism. but in truth the key to the more beautiful side of gladstone's character might have been found in his relationship to madame novikoff. and possibly that friendship laid the real foundation of the understanding between the two nations. incidentally let me remark the growing friendliness towards russia which is noticeable in the work of carlyle at that time. a tendency towards friendship came thus into the air far back in the victorian era. { } another most intimate friendship was that of kinglake and madame novikoff, where again was real appreciation of a fine woman. anthony froude worshipped at the same shrine, and w. t. stead with many another in whose heart and hand was the making of modern england. a marvellously generous and unselfish nature, incapacity to be dull or feel dull or think that life is dull--a delicious sense of the humorous, an ingenious mind, a courtliness, and with all this something of the goddess. she had a presence into which people came. and then she had a visible russian soul. there was in her features that unfamiliar gleam which we are all pursuing now, through opera, literature and art--the russian genius. madame novikoff was useful to russia, it has been reproachfully said. yes, she was useful in promoting peace between the two empires, she was worth an army in the field to russia. yes, and now it may be said she has been worth an army in the field to us. when stead went down on the _titanic_ one of the last of the great men who worshipped at her shrine had died. be it remarked how great was stead's faith in russia, and especially in the russia of the tsar and the church. and it is well to remember that madame novikoff belongs to orthodox russia and has never had any sympathy whatever with revolutionary russia. this has obtained for her not a few enemies. there are many russians with strong political views, estimable but misguided men, who have issued in the past such harmful rubbish as _darkest russia_, journals and pamphlets wherein { } systematically everything to the discredit of the tsar and his government, every ugly scandal or enigmatical happening in russian contemporary life was written up and then sent post free to our clergy, etc. to them madame novikoff is naturally distasteful. but as english people we ask, who has helped us to understand "brightest russia"--the russia in arms to-day? and the praise and the thanks are to her. stephen graham. moscow, _th august_, . { } editor's preface the late w. t. stead in saying to madame novikoff, "when you die, what an obituary i will write of you," was paying her a great compliment; just as was disraeli, although unconsciously, in referring to her as "the m.p. for russia in england." with that consummate tact which never fails her, madame novikoff has evaded the compliment and justified the sarcasm. disraeli might with justice have added that she was also "m.p. for england in russia"; for if she has appeared pro-russian in england, she has many times been reproached in russia as pro-english. of few women have such contradictory things been said and written, things that clearly show the gradual change in the political barometer; but her most severe critics indirectly paid tribute to her remarkable personality by fearing the influence she possessed. in the dark days when great britain and russia were thinking of each other only as potential antagonists, she was regarded in this country as a russian agent, whose every action was a subject for suspicious speculation, a national danger, a syren whose object it was to entice british { } politicians from their allegiance. wherever she went it was, according to public opinion, with some fell purpose in view. if she came to london for the simple purpose of improving her english, it meant to a certain section of the press russian "diplomatic activity." the tsar was told by an english journalist that he ought to "be very proud of her," as she succeeded where "russian papers, ambassadors and envoys failed"; another said that she was "worth an army of , men to her country"; a third that she was a "stormy petrel." she was, in fact, everything from a russian agent to a national danger, everything in short but the one thing she professed to be, a russian woman anxious for her country's peace and progress. in serbia there is a little village whose name commemorates the death of a russian hero, nicolas kiréef, madame novikoff's brother. in his death lay the seed of the anglo-russian alliance. distraught with grief, madame novikoff blamed great britain for her loss. she argued that, had this country refused to countenance the unspeakableness of the turk in , there would have been no atrocities, no russian volunteers, and no war. from that date she determined to do everything that lay in her power to bring about a better understanding between great britain and russia. for years she has never relaxed her efforts, and she has lived to see what is perhaps the greatest monument ever erected by a sister to a brother's memory--the anglo-russian alliance. { } nothing discouraged her, and at times, when war seemed inevitable, she redoubled her efforts. in all her work, she had chiefly to depend on her own ardour and sincerity. it was this sincerity, and a deep conviction as to the rightness of her object, that caused gladstone to become her fearless ally. politically he compromised himself by his frank support of her pleadings for peace and understanding. for many years feeling ran too high in this country for a reasoned consideration of madame novikoff's appeals. "peace with honour" talk became a meaningless catch phrase, otherwise it would have been seen that it was "peace with honour" that she advocated, and has never ceased to advocate, peace with honour, not to one, but to two great peoples. slowly the eyes of empire shifted from one continent to another, and gradually madame novikoff found her voice commanding more and more attention, until at last the anglo-russian agreement paved the way for the present alliance. her success is largely due to the methods she adopted. she gave and received hard knocks, and she never fell back upon her sex as an argument or a defence. she was fighting with men, and she fought with men's weapons, and this gained for her respect as an honourable and worthy antagonist. even at the time when feeling was most strongly against her work, there appeared in the newspapers many spontaneous tributes to her ability and personality. { } the very suspicion with which she was regarded was in itself a tribute. later when russia and great britain had drawn closer together, there appeared in the press some of the most remarkable tributes ever paid to a woman, from which in justice to her and the press i venture to quote a few of the many that appeared. "if we were writing at a date which we hope is a good many years distant of the career of madame olga novikoff, we should begin by saying that she was one of the most remarkable women of her time."--_daily graphic_. "whatever the reader's political predilections may be, he is unlikely to dispute the claim of madame novikoff to rank as one of the most remarkable women of her generation."--_daily telegraph_. "no one will deny the right of madame novikoff to a record in history: ... for nearly ten years her influence was probably greater than any other woman's upon the course of national politics."--_daily news_. madame novikoff, "who for so many years held a social and political position in london which few women, and no ambassador, have ever equalled."--_observer_. "from beginning to end madame novikoff's record is clear and honourable. there is not the slightest evidence of any intrigue on her part, of any effort to use the statesman she influenced for underhand purposes, or to work for or against any { } particular individual in her own country."--_westminster gazette_. "it is seldom that anyone sees such a fruition of his labours as does this marvellous lady, who has worked all her life for one thing and almost one thing only--an anglo-russian understanding."--_daily mail_. and now in the autumn of her life (it is impossible to associate the word winter with so vital a personality) madame novikoff has seen her years of work crowned with success. to-day she is as keen in regard to public affairs, especially where her beloved russia is concerned, as she was in the days when her life was one continuous fight with the war-spirit. in the preparation of these memories i have seen something of her application, her industry and her personality. in the past i have often asked myself what was the secret of madame novikoff's remarkable success. but now i know. time after time when we have seen things from a different angle, i have found myself accepting her point of view before i was even conscious of weakening. of all the compliments ever paid to madame novikoff, the one that probably pleases her most is that which recently appeared in a london daily written by a famous writer upon russian life, who described her as "a true russian." this is not an autobiography; for madame novikoff has always refused to undertake such a responsibility. in the first place she thinks it { } would be too long, and in the second too personal. "i have been talked about quite enough," she will say, "without starting to talk about myself." in there appeared _the m.p. for russia_, edited by the late w. t. stead, which told much of her association with her distinguished friends, gladstone, kinglake, villiers, clarendon, carlyle, tyndall, froude and others. "these have been taken," she says, "and i am left." but she has continued her work, and many of her friends have told her that at this time, above all others, she should tell personally something of her russian memories. as she phrases it, "for forty years i have been wandering in the wilderness, and now i have been permitted the happiness of entering the promised land. at last the gates have been opened. we are now brothers-in-arms." the editor. { } contents editor's preface chapter i the russian spirit july --enthusiasm at moscow--my ambition realised--england and russia allies--a war of right--wounded heroes--russia's faith in victory--our emperor's call--england's greatness--i am introduced to mr. gladstone and mr. disraeli--"the m.p. for russia in england"--mr. gladstone's championship--an unpopular cause chapter ii the awakening of russia a new era--my brother nicholas--hadji ghiray: hero--terrible news--a heroic advance--my brother's death--aksakoff's famous speech--russia aflame--a nation's sacrifice--my heart-broken letters--mr. gladstone's response--mutual suspicion--my visits to england chapter iii mr. gladstone and i strive for peace the real england--the st. james's hall meeting--remarkable enthusiasm--mr. gladstone's speech--he escorts me home--newspaper comment--lord salisbury and general ignatieff--mutual regard--the turks displeased--an embarrassing tribute--the end of the constantinople conference--mr. gladstone compromised--war declared--"what will england do?"--bismarck's policy--prince gortschakoff's opinion chapter iv mr. gladstone his last utterance.--his fearlessness---his opinion of _russia and england_--a christian revolution--cardinal manning's tribute--gladstone and the old catholics--the question of immortality--mr. gladstone's remarkable letter--a delightful listener--his power of concentration--hayward and gladstone--their discussion--miss helen gladstone--we talk gladstone--the old lady's delight--i miss my train { } chapter v some social memories my thursdays in russia--khalil pasha's death--lord napier and the lady-in-waiting--madame volnys--my parents-in-law's _ménage_--an exceptional type--prince vladimir dolgorouki's embarrassment--the grand duchess helen--a brilliant woman--the emperor's enjoyment--the campbell-bannermans--a royal diplomatist--mark twain on couriers--in serious vein--verestchagin--"the retreat from moscow"--the kaiser's remarkable utterance chapter vi the emperor nicholas i a pacific emperor--an imperial fault--the pauper's funeral--the emperor's visit to my mother--my dilemma--the emperor's kindness--he is snubbed by an _ingénue_--the emperor's desire for an alliance with england--prince gortschakoff's rejoinder--the slav ideal--russia and constantinople--bismarck's admiration--he discomfits a member of the reichstag chapter vii "as others see us" "a russian agent"--"to lure british statesmen"--a charming tribute--the press at sea--wild stories--a musical political agitator--"an unofficial ambassador"--baron de staal's indifference--prince lobanoff's kindness--count shouvaloft's dislike of my work--prince gortschakoff and the slavs--baron brunow and the french ambassador--english sportsmanship--a shakespeare banquet chapter viii jewish russophobia the jews and the war--their attitude in --their hatred of slavism--the problems of other countries--english sympathy--the guildhall meeting--the russian government blamed--tolstoy and the jews--my jewish friends--a curious tradition--self-protection chapter ix england and the great famine in russia my russian home--the horrors of famine--the peasants' heroism--starving yet patient--the society of friends--i am invited to meeting--magnificent munificence--among the starving--terrible hardships--some illustrations--living in dug-outs--the stoical russian--cinder bread { } chapter x musical memories my mother--her musical friends--i study with masset--his generous offer--litolff's visit--my mother's musicales develop into a conservatoire--rubinstein's anger--his refusal to play for the grand duchess helen--the idols of the musical world--a friendly jealousy--my stratagem with liszt--glasounoff's kindness--the musicless chapter xi the armenian question a fatal treaty--gladstone's opinion--the concert of europe--the unspeakable turk and his methods--england's responsibility--mr. gladstone's energetic action--lord rosebery resigns--gladstone's astounding letter--"i shall keep myself to myself"--"abdul the damned"--"a man whose every impulse is good"--the convention of cyprus--russia and england chapter xii the sobering of russia russian dreamers--fighting a curse--first steps--an interesting encounter--a great reform--its acceptance by the peasants--the cabman's interrogative--he begs me to intercede with the tsar--the temptation of drink--my peasant teas--the drink habit--our courageous emperor chapter xiii miscellaneous memories my embarrassment--a spy--i am easily taken in--a demand for fifty pounds--a threat--i defy the blackmailer--a warning--gladstone's refusal to meet gambetta--my husband's dilemma--russian views on duelling--kinglake challenges prince louis napoleon--my brother's views--kinglake's charm--the value of an englishman--the dogger bank incident chapter xiv the phantom of nihilism england's sympathy with the nihilists--cabinet ministers' indiscretion--mr. gladstone's incredulity--i prove my words--mr. gladstone's action--a strange confusion--a reformed nihilist--his significant admission--the nihilist's regret--the death of revolutionary russia--the greatness of the future--the reckless, impulsive russian--the russian refugees at buenos ayres--they crave for a priest { } chapter xv russian prisons and prisoners our convict system--misunderstood in england--siberia, an emigration field--a lax discipline--capt. wiggins' opinion--a land of stoicism--my experiences as a prison visitor--divine literature--helen voronoff's work--a russian heroine--her descriptions of prison life chapter xvi political prisoners dostoyevsky's call--his retort to a dandy--russia and the revolution--the court of imperial mercy--how political prisoners may solicit pardon--the coach-driver's letter--the people's belief in the emperor--a typical russian appeal--military offenders--how they have justified the emperor's clemency--political prisoners and the war chapter xvii the grand duke constantine and prince oleg a remarkable personality--the grand duke's graciousness--his tact and sympathy--the wounded soldier--a censored book--prince oleg and my brother alexander--a talented child--a strange premonition--the prince's interest in public affairs--his studious nature--the prince wounded--his joy on receiving the cross of st. george--he becomes worse--the end chapter xviii bulgaria's defection and prisoners of war russia blamed for the balkan muddle--bulgaria's treachery--gen. grant on the russians and constantinople--bulgaria's dissatisfaction--the reign of the fox--the treatment of prisoners of war--the german method--the allies' failure--lack of organisation--insidious german propagandism--britain and her prisoners in germany chapter xix the russian parish the revival of parish life--the ancient russian parish--a peaceful community--slavophils and the parish--the metropolitan and the emperor nicholas i--the independence of the church--father john of kronstadt--a blessing to russia chapter xx russia and england a new era--the russian ideal--the trick of double nationality--lord kitchener's legacy--the armenian inventor--the kaiser and double nationality--the future of prussia--russia's hope of victory--germany's influence on anglo-russian friendship--days of suspicion--lord clarendon's opinion--an ex-cabinet minister's boast--russian memories of england--a glorious future { } illustrations the empress of russia and queen alexandra . . . frontispiece w. e. gladstone (april , ) nicolas kiréeff myself in seminary for school teachers built by alexander novikoff at novo-alexandrofka sr. olga's school for girl teachers at novo-alexandrofka my son, alexander novikoff nicolas rubinstein, anton rubinstein the clergy and choir of novo-alexandrofka, , on the day of the consecration of the church alexander kiréeff church built by alexander novikoff on his father's grave at novo-alexandrofka miss helen voronoff the grand duke constantine nicolaévitch st. olga's school for girl teachers at nova-alexandrofka myself with my faithful max at brunswick place, n.w. { } russian memories chapter i the russian spirit july --enthusiasm at moscow--my ambition realised--england and russia allies--a war of right--wounded heroes--russia's faith in victory--our emperor's call--england's greatness--i am introduced to mr. gladstone and mr. disraeli--"the m.p. for russia in england"--mr. gladstone's championship--an unpopular cause i was in moscow when our monarch's mighty voice sounded in defence of little serbia. i was driving near the tverskoi boulevard, when a shouting crowd rushed past me, and burst into a neighbouring restaurant. "what does it all mean?" i exclaimed. "is it a riot? do they want drink?" "oh no," said the bystanders. "they only want to call out the orchestra and make them play the national hymn." i stopped my carriage. the orchestra appeared, and played our god save the tzar, while the whole crowd, wild with enthusiasm, joined in. delighted and touched, i followed them. most were singing and shouting "hurrah," some praying and making the sign of the cross, while the throng continually increased. { } similar scenes occurred daily in various quarters of the town. one evening, an idle crowd had assembled near st. saviour's church. a priest appeared with a cross. the whole crowd fell on their knees and prayed. such moments one cannot forget--indeed one can only thank god for them. people say that in petrograd the demonstrations were still grander. it may be so--but whenever the emperor visits moscow, and speaks there with his powerful, animating voice, the old capital rises to unapproachable heights of enthusiasm and to resolutions of unbounded self-sacrifice. a few days later i realised that the great ambition of my life was about to be realised, not only by an _entente_, but by an alliance between russia and the country that has given me so many friends and shown me such splendid hospitality. yet how differently everything had happened from what i had anticipated after the signing of the anglo-russian agreement. it was not the gradual drawing together of the two countries that each might enjoy the peaceful friendship of the other: but the sudden discovery that they had a common foe to fight, a common ideal to preserve, a common civilisation to save. years ago i wrote, "i want to be a harbinger of peace, of hope, of prosperity to come," and yet here was my great ambition being realised to the sound of the drum and midst the thunder of the destroying guns. history was repeating itself. as in , a slav nation was being oppressed, threatened with annihilation, and the great heart of russia was moved. { } i remember so well those days forty years ago when our foreign office tried all it could to stop the reckless chivalry of the russian people--determined as all classes were to sacrifice everything, life itself even, for the sake of their oppressed co-religionists, the bulgarians. in that august thirty-eight years before ( ), petrograd itself (always more cautious and reserved than moscow) showed an enthusiasm for the cause of the christian slavs that daily gathered strength. it pervaded all classes from prince to peasant. the sympathy of the masses had been evoked by the atrocities, committed in the usual unspeakable turkish fashion, in bulgaria. that sympathy, however, bore chiefly a religious, not a political character, and as in almost all great national movements our emperor identified himself with his people. public collections were being made for the sick and wounded. officers of the red cross and ladies of the court and society went from house to house requesting subscriptions. at railway stations, on the steam-boats, even on the tramways, the "red cross" was present everywhere, with a sealed box for donations. every effort was made to animate feelings of compassion for the suffering christians, and to swell the funds for providing ambulances for the sick and wounded. and now in another great national emotion had swept over three hundred millions of people. this was not a war of greed or gain; it was not concerned with some insult levelled at russia or the violation of her frontiers; it was the result of a { } deep religious sense of justice in the hearts of the people. it was what in england would be called "the sporting instinct" which forbids a big man to hit another smaller than himself. no power could have held back the chivalrous russians from going to the aid of threatened serbia. all recognised that a terrible and fateful day had dawned, and throughout the dark days of the autumn of , the people never flinched from the task they had undertaken. they were pledged to save serbia. russians believed, still believe and will always believe, in the sacredness of an oath given in the name of god. certain words indeed are not meaningless sounds! to such sacred promises naturally belongs also the oath of allegiance. for centuries confidence and harmony reigned between all the russian subjects. now, the blasphemous kaiser was trying to abolish every moral and religious tie. could anything be more cruel and mischievous? everywhere it was the same. when i visited the wounded in my tamboff country place, our poor soldiers, in answer to my queries as to their wants and desires, answered quite simply, not in the least realising the nobleness of their feeling: "if god would only make us strong enough to go and punish the infamous enemy. you do not know the harm done to our fields, our churches, our brothers." the tone of this and similar remarks was very striking. one of the wounded was a mohammedan. i do not know whether it is wise or not, but the { } mohammedans in russia are treated exactly like other russian subjects, and they know that in serving russia they may attain the highest military positions, as did, for instance, general ali khanoff, and others of the same creed. russia, as a whole, has an unlimited faith in victory. the russian emperor's new year's address echoed far and wide, like a clarion call, through the ranks of the imperial army and fleet. all doubts vanished beyond recall, for the utterance of the sovereign was more decided, definite and determined than any that had gone before. here are words that must ring like a knell in the ears of exhausted germany, trembling under the strain of her last efforts. "a half-victory--an unfinished war"--this was the hideous phantom before which the hearts of our brave soldiers sank, and which, like a ceaseless nightmare, disturbed the rest, even of our most illiterate peasants. far and wide, indeed, russian hearts to-day thrill and respond to their beloved emperor's call: "remember that without complete victory our dear russia cannot ensure for herself and her people the independence that is her pride and her birthright, cannot enjoy and develop to the full the fruits of her labour and her natural wealth. let your hearts be permeated with the consciousness that there can be no peace without victory. however great may be the sacrifice required of us, we must march onward unflinchingly, onward to triumph for our country and our cause." the air vibrated with the echoes of these splendid { } words--and the bereaved mothers, sisters, wives, weeping in the loneliness and despair of their broken hearts, look up and smile again, because russia's blood has not been shed in vain. the news travelled on the wings of the wind, and over countless distant, unknown graves, it brought its message to our fallen heroes: "you shall be revenged, brave warriors; your souls shall celebrate the moment of triumph, together with your living brothers!" it is good also to know that we are not alone in our determination, that our allies are with us, and share our views. therefore, if we assume that germany's entire population numbers about seventy millions, the outside limit for the numerical strength of her army can in no circumstance exceed ten millions, this being already per cent of the whole nation, and a completely unprecedented percentage of the nation's manhood. such figures, indeed, represent an entire people in arms--a people, however, that has taken upon itself the impossible task of measuring its strength against that of three other mighty peoples, armed, also, to the teeth. in this uneven struggle, germany must ultimately, in spite of austrian, bulgarian and turkish help, meet her ruin, and bleed to death. we, in russia, look forward to the future without fear. we stand united as one man. all political strifes and disagreements are forgotten; there is no division of parties, no discussion of any affairs of state except those connected with the war. "war war, war, till victory, till triumph. there lies our future, and so shall it be." with these words our { } home secretary, monsieur khvostoff, concluded his recent speech to the members of the press bureau. the same sentiments are echoed everywhere. we are determined and hopeful, and ready for every sacrifice, because, to quote our empress alexandra in her new year's telegram to the secretary of state, "a war that has been forced on us by our enemies, and that has attained dimensions unprecedented in history, naturally calls for immense sacrifices. but i know that the russian people will not hesitate before these sacrifices, and will fight on nobly until the moment when god's blessing will bring to the glorious warriors who are shedding their blood for their fatherland and their emperor, the peace that shall be bought by complete victory over our foes." by these words may english people discern the spirit of their russian friends, their faith in victory. the difference between and is our attitude towards great britain. whereas forty years ago we suspected, even hated, her, now we see her in her true colours. she is doing for belgium what we once did for bulgaria, and from a sense of right and political honour. she could have remained neutral, safe in her sea defences, devoting her time to capturing the trade of the combatants. instead of which she chose to risk all in honouring her pledge. this fact brought russia very near to great britain, and i hope the years that are coming will see a better understanding in great britain of the russian spirit. and now something about myself. in baron brunow, the russian ambassador in london, introduced me to mr. gladstone and { } mr. disraeli in the same evening. the one was to become a dear friend who was to give powerful support to my efforts to bring russia and england closer together, whilst the other a few years later was to confer upon me the honorary title of which i have always been so proud. "madame novikoff," he said, during the bulgarian agitation, when mr. gladstone and i were doing our utmost to negative his pro-turkish activities, "i call madame novikoff the m.p. for russia in england." this remark was not intended to give me pleasure, although, now that my years of work have ended successfully, it may appear, as mr. w. t. stead said, "a flattering compliment." at that time, however, lord beaconsfield was not feeling so cordial towards me as to frame graceful compliments, and he probably knew that, expert as he was in the art of flattery, nothing he could say would divert me from the path of antagonism towards his policy that i had chosen for myself. "ambassadors represent governments, m.p.'s represent the people," mr. stead wrote, apropos beaconsfield's remark, and i have always striven, however unworthily, to represent russia, the most peace-loving nation in the world. [illustration: w. e. gladstone (april , )] it was to the enjoyment of peace to my country that i first undertook my self-imposed work, the bringing of great britain and russia to a better understanding that would result in their working together towards a common end--peace. it is a strange trick of fate that the two countries should eventually be brought together, not by peace but { } by war; but the workings of providence are inscrutable, and out of this great evil perhaps a still greater good may come. by the anglo-russian agreement of the two countries became good friends, now they are allies. britons are fighting in russia under the russian high command, and it is no secret that british sailors are fighting ship by ship with russian sailors in the baltic; and with those who have fought together for a common cause, friendship and understanding are inevitable. it is strange to look back upon what have come to be known as the "jingo days," when in the streets and music-halls was sung a ditty in which britons told each other--i quote from memory: we don't want to fight; but, by jingo, if we do, we've got the men, we've got the ships, we've got the money too. and all this was levelled at russia, because she chose to do what great britain to her everlasting honour is doing to-day, avenging a downtrodden, but uncrushed people. there was one man who saw clearly and stood up fearlessly against the popular clamour, and that was mr. gladstone. for twenty years he worked with me loyally towards the end i had in view. he never faltered in his denunciations of the unspeakable turk and all his ways. from to the crisis was acute, and at any time war between great britain and russia was possible. during the whole of this time mr. gladstone was doing his utmost to counteract the evils of the disraeli policy, and he was always in close touch { } and constant communication with me. his support and unflinching championship of what he thought to be the cause of right was to me a great comfort. i was a woman in a foreign land, fighting against the prejudices that i saw everywhere about me. in the early part of ugly rumours were afloat as to wholesale massacres of bulgarians by the turks. on june the rd there appeared in _the daily news_ a letter from its constantinople correspondent (mr., now sir, edwin pears), and the attention of the house of commons was directed to the appalling allegations it contained. mr. disraeli, then prime minister, treated the whole matter with airy unconcern, but the members on both sides of the house were irritated rather than soothed by his manner. with a caution that was infinitely to his credit, for i know from our talks how deeply he felt, mr. gladstone waited the report of mr. walter baring, the british commissioner, which confirmed in all their revolting detail the rumours of the slaughter of harmless bulgarians, men, women and children. convinced that the evidence was uncontrovertible, mr. gladstone plunged into the fray, first by publishing his pamphlet, _the bulgarian horrors and the question of the east_, and later by urging an understanding with russia that would render this wholesale slaughter of a christian people impossible in future. in russia there was only one thought in the people's minds--war, which no human power could have prevented. the nation insisted that they { } should be allowed to stand beside their co-religionists and fight in defence of their freedom. as for myself, those were busy days. i saw around me nothing but suspicion of russia, perhaps even of myself: but i had a noble example set me, if one were needed, by mr. gladstone. ours was a fight for christianity and civilisation. every hour of my day and sometimes far into the night was occupied. i rushed fearlessly into print, as i have done for the last forty years when i felt that my pen might serve the purpose i had in mind. in those days editors were less hospitable towards me than they have since become. mine was an unpopular cause, i wrote as a russian patriot, which meant that i sometimes showed a tendency to injure british susceptibilities. "but what matter that?" i asked myself with jesuitical satisfaction. "the end is good, and it is the end that matters." i think there are very few of my friends in england to-day who will not echo my words. the day on which i write these words is the russian flag day, the second since the war broke out. in the streets are english and russian girls and women selling small flags, for the most exorbitant sum they can extract from the purchasers, "to help russia." when i look back upon those days of gloom, when mr. gladstone used to come and see "the russian agent," "the m.p. for russia in england," and talk anxiously about the near future, and whether the storm would pass or break, it is with gratitude and expressions of heartfelt thanks to the people who have so often shown me hospitality and { } in time began to listen to my words. they must have found some difficulty in avoiding the words i showered upon them; for i frankly confess i lost no opportunity of "rushing into print." { } chapter ii the awakening of russia a new era--my brother nicholas--hadji ghiray: hero--terrible news--a heroic advance--my brother's death--aksakoff's famous speech--russia aflame--a nation's sacrifice--my heart-broken letters--mr. gladstone's response--mutual suspicion--my visits to england it is not only easy, but delightful at this moment to write in dear england about russia and russians, about our institutions and customs, confessing even our drawbacks when they have to be explained. but, alas! some thirty or forty years ago such was not the case. i wonder if it will interest english people to follow the life of a russian, who, like myself, has felt the effect of these different currents. we must remember, that, if at this moment, everything english is not only appreciated in russia, but even enthusiastically admired, things were quite different at the time when i began writing pro-russian articles in england. yes, indeed: the russian feelings in the years ' , ' and ' were permeated with severe bitterness against disraeli's english policy so hostile to russia. find and study the russian papers of these years. they will show you how all the russian press, and { } in fact the whole country, was convinced that turkey would never have refused to introduce the reforms asked by russia in favour of the tortured slavs if it had not been for england's cruel support and advice. the whole of russia at that time was seething with indignation and resentment. in the year in all our papers, and in every mouth, were variations on the same theme: "england is the principal cause of all our sacrifices and losses. england's obedient slave, turkey, refuses all our most legitimate demands in favour of our co-religionists, our brethren by race. turkey's insolent opposition is england's doing. besides, the russian government hesitated to present her ultimatum to the sultan--not being prepared for war." and so it really was. russia then was as pacific and unprepared for fighting as she was at the beginning of the present gigantic armageddon. russia imagined that everybody understood that she was not coveting new acquisitions, and was quite unprepared for war, which was true enough--indeed she seemed as if she never cared to be prepared. she lived in a fool's paradise, insisting on universal peace as at the hague conference, and as if the whole world were composed of "the friends" (better known as "quakers"). the present diabolical war has taught us many good lessons, including the necessity for prudence in the future. it will also teach us to develop our own endless resources without depending on foreign help, which is always paid for not only at usual, { } but at monstrous prices, such as those which now exist at petrograd and moscow. but hostile as russia was in to any kind of war, yet, when the balkan troubles commenced, crowds of poor russians, preferring death to peace at any price, rushed to that country, concealing even from their relatives and friends their determination to support the slavs, notwithstanding the complete unpreparedness of the latter. that was perhaps pure folly on the part of our volunteers, but a sublime and heroic folly, of which we are now proud. at that time, however, i, at all events (in spite of all) only felt the bitterness of indignation and despair with our government and with england's policy. my brother, nicholas, as a member of the slavonic benevolent society, went to belgrade, sofia and cettingje. but he went armed only with money collected for ambulances and for the establishment of medical depôts, where medical aid could be obtained. the insurrection in bosnia and herzegovina was already spreading, and no preparations had been made. the helplessness of the wretched balkan slavs was simply appalling. as nicholas had distributed all the money entrusted to him, and had sent in all his accounts to the benevolent s. society to the last copeck, our brother alexander and i expected his speedy return to russia. in fact, i had alexander's letter in my pocket, where he spoke of nicholas' splendid business-like arrangement, when i read in all the papers a short but terrible telegram: "hadji ghiray is killed at zaitcher"--it was nicholas kiréeff. he had joined { } the serbians under an assumed name, as we later discovered. my horror at this news was indescribable. i could not believe it. but it was soon followed by a wire from alexander which said: "the emperor has sent for me and informed me of our brother's death. he allows me to go to you at once, and we will go to see mother in italy. she must be now at lucca, and probably knows nothing as yet of our misfortune." i shall hope to be forgiven for quoting kinglake's account of my brother's sacrifice. it was characteristically russian in its quixotism: "the young nichol ... kiréeff was a noble, and being by nature a man of an enthusiastic disposition, with the romantic example before him in the life of his father, he had accustomed himself to the idea of self-sacrifice. upon the outbreak of prince milan's insurrection, he went off to servia with the design of acting simply under the banner of the red cross, and had already entered upon his humane task, when he found himself called upon by general tchernaieff to accept the command of what we may call a brigade--a force of some five thousand infantry, consisting of volunteers and militiamen, supported, it seems, by five guns; and before long, he not only had to take his brigade into action, but to use it as the means of assailing an entrenched position at rakovitz. young kiréeff very well understood that the irregular force entrusted to him was far from being one that could be commanded in the hour of battle by taking a look with a field-glass and uttering a few words to an aide-de-camp; so { } he determined to carry forward his men by the simple and primitive expedient of personally advancing in front of them. he was a man of great stature, with extraordinary beauty of features, and, whether owing to the midsummer heat, or from any wild, martyr-like, or dare-devil impulse, he chose, as he had done from the first, to be clothed altogether in white. whilst advancing in front of his troops against the turkish battery he was struck--first by a shot passing through his left arm, then presently by another one which struck him in the neck, and then again by yet another one which shattered his right hand and forced him to drop his sword; but, despite all these wounds, he was still continuing his resolute advance, when a fourth shot passed through his lungs, and brought him, at length, to the ground, yet did not prevent him from uttering--although with great effort--the cry of 'forward! forward!' a fifth shot, however, fired low, passed through the fallen chief's heart and quenched his gallant spirit. the brigade he had commanded fell back, and his body--vainly asked for soon afterwards by general tchernaieff--remained in the hands of the turks."[ ] [ ] _the invasion of the crimea_. sixth edition. [illustration: nicolas kirÉeff] i saw it stated in the newspapers a short time back that a german officer and some hundred and fifty men had surrendered to the british, stating that he and his men would probably be of more use to germany alive than dead. when i think of the tragedy surrounding the death of my brother, nicholas kiréeff, i can now see that he served russia better by his death than he could by living for her. the news of his heroic fall passed from one end { } of russia to the other like the notes of a bugle calling an army into being. but for his death my own humble efforts to bring about a better understanding between two great nations might possibly never have been attempted. there is probably no evil out of which good cannot be formed. the effect of my brother's death was instantaneous and electrical. he was the first russian volunteer to fall in the cause of freedom, the cause that people in great britain could not or would not understand. officers and men of the russian army clamoured to go to the front. by giving his life freely for the sake of his conscience, my brother was the instrument of russia doing one of the finest things that any nation has ever done. kinglake has written: "it may be that the grandeur of the young colonel's form and stature, and the sight of the blood, showing vividly on his white attire, added something extraneous and weird to the sentiment which might well be inspired by witnessing his personal heroism ... but, be that as it may, the actual result was that accounts of the incident--accounts growing every day more and more marvellous--flew so swiftly from city to city, from village to village, that before seven days had passed, the smouldering fire of russian enthusiasm leapt up into a dangerous flame. under countless green domes, big and small, priests fiercely chanting the 'requiem' for a young hero's soul, and setting forth the glory of dying in defence of 'syn-orthodox' brethren, drew warlike responses from men who--whilst still in cathedral or church--cried aloud that they, too, would go where the young { } kiréeff had gone; and so many of them hastened to keep their word, that before long a flood of volunteers from many parts of russia was pouring fast into belgrade. to sustain the once kindled enthusiasm apt means were taken. the simple photograph, representing the young kiréeff's noble features, soon expanded to large-sized portraits; and fable then springing forward in the path of truth, but transcending it with the swiftness of our modern appliances, there was constituted in a strangely short time one of those stirring legends which used to be the growth of long years--a legend half warlike, half superstitious, which exalted its really tall hero to the dimensions of a giant, and showed him piling up hecatombs by a mighty slaughter of turks."[ ] [ ] _the invasion of the crimea_. sixth edition. the death of nicholas kiréeff was a kind of spark falling on a train of gunpowder. in a month's time the whole of russia was roused. "the news of the death of nicholas kiréeff," said aksakoff, in one of his most famous speeches, "at once stimulated hundreds to become volunteers--an event that repeated itself when the news was received of the deaths of further russian volunteers. death did not frighten, but, as it were, attracted them. at the beginning of the movement the volunteers were men who had belonged to the army, and chiefly from among the nobles. i remember the feeling of real emotion which i experienced when the first sergeant came requesting me to send him to servia--so new to me was the existence of such a feeling in the ranks of the people. this feeling soon grew in intensity when, not only old soldiers, { } but even peasants, came to me with the same request. and how humbly did they persevere in their petition, as if begging alms! with tears they begged me, on their knees, to send them to the field of battle. such petitions of the peasants were mostly granted, and you should have seen their joy at the announcement of the decision! however, those scenes became so frequent, and business increased to such an extent, that it was quite impossible to watch the expression of popular feeling, or to inquire into particulars from the volunteers as to their motives. 'i have resolved to die for my faith.' 'my heart burns.' 'i want to help our brethren.' 'our people are being killed.' such were the brief answers which were given with great sincerity. i repeat there was not, and could not be, any mercenary motive on the part of the volunteers. i, at least, conscientiously warned every one of the hard lot awaiting him. privations, wounds, and death were all that these volunteers could expect for themselves, but they rightly guessed that sooner or later the official russian army would take up their cause." in less than a month after my brother's death officers of the imperial guards at petrograd resigned their commission in the army, and hurried to serbia; officers at moscow and southern russia did the same. the impartial british ambassador, lord augustus loftus, informed his government that according to private information , cossacks were going to the balkans in disguise. he also communicated the following characteristic letter: { } "even women, old men, and children speak of nothing but the slavonic war. the warlike spirit of the cossacks is on fire, and from small to great they all await permission to fall on the turks like a whirlwind. at many of the settlements the cossacks are getting their arms ready, with a full conviction that in a few days the order will be given to fall on the enemies of the holy faith and of their slav brethren. there is at the same time a general murmuring against diplomacy for its dilatoriness in coming to the rescue. deputies have arrived from many of the cossack settlements to represent to the ataman that the cossacks are no longer able to stand the extermination of the christians." lord augustus loftus reluctantly admitted that "neither the emperor nor prince gortschakoff are now able to resist the unanimous appeal of the nation for intervention to protect and save their co-religionists." at that time russia knew perfectly well that nobody outside her realms cared to share her sacrifices and her work, and that the greatest part of england even threatened her with war--an eventuality which certainly could not be contemplated with indifference. the tragedy at zaitschar had lighted a flame that spread throughout the length of russia. enormous sums of money were offered with reckless generosity. foreigners who witnessed the enthusiasm of the movement were astonished. they did not understand the romantic chivalry of the russian nature. ivan aksakoff, the president of the benevolent slav society in moscow, alone collected more than a million roubles, and everywhere red cross societies { } sprang up with a suddenness that was amazing. i belonged to the moscow red cross committee. it was one of our duties to collect money and material for ambulance work. i recollect vividly, although forty years have since passed, how people of all sorts and conditions came to us with their offerings. women of fashion tendered their jewels, paupers their copper coins. everybody gave what he could. i could write volumes about what occurred in those glorious yet tragic days. everywhere i encountered examples of a deep religious enthusiasm that seemed to animate the whole country, irrespective of class; yet the foreign press saw in this spontaneous movement only a sham engineered for political purposes. the years ' and ' formed a grand page of russian history--years of real crusade in our prosaic, materialistic nineteenth century. the crowds of russians who rushed to meet almost certain death in heroic defence of their oppressed and unarmed christian brethren in the east, the vast sums of money, offered with spontaneous and reckless generosity, astonished all those foreigners who witnessed the marvellous enthusiasm of that movement. this enthusiasm in russia was the first direct result of my dear brother's death; but there was another. i was prostrated with grief by the shock. to my distraught mind england was responsible for the tragedy. had she not encouraged the turk there would have been no war and my brother would have been alive. if mr. gladstone had been in power, my brother would not have been sacrificed. how bitterly i upbraided england in my own mind. { } as soon as i was well enough and influenced by all that i had read in our press about england's interference with russia's humane policy, and also by my personal passionate grief, i simply lost my head. can it be believed that i wrote to my english friends in these very words: "it is england who has killed my brother. it is england who prevents our government from helping our brethren in the balkans. russia was in duty bound to remonstrate with the sultan, even to the extent of threatening him with war, the moment his massacres began. impulsively russian volunteers rushed to the rescue, and my poor brother nicholas happened to be the first amongst them. he would not have been the first hero to be killed at the head of the unarmed serbian troops, if those had been enrolled as official soldiers, well-armed and ready for battle." such letters can be written only, as this was, in moments of real despair. but i must gratefully add that my english correspondents understood my grief, and that people like lord napier, froude, kinglake, freeman, charles villiers, sir william harcourt and others--then known to me rather as clever and pleasant conversationalists--all answered me with extreme kindness and sympathy. they assured me that disraeli's policy in turkey was wrong, that parliament intended to question it, that _the daily news_ and other papers had already started the campaign, etc., etc. yes, i felt their kindness, but the only person who left my letter unanswered was mr. gladstone, and this rather grieved me. in fact, i expected that he would have been the first to respond, as we had { } understood each other so well on the old catholic movement. two or three weeks later, however, i received a communication from mrs. gladstone, which read: dear madame novikoff, my husband, overwhelmed at this moment with business, wishes me to write and express to you our sincere sympathy with you in your great loss; indeed we know what it is to lose a precious brother, and we also know as you do how to rejoice in a beautiful unselfish life being crowned with joy eternal. you will ere this have read the answer to your question as to bulgaria in my husband's pamphlet in the newspapers. england is at length roused from her lethargy; indeed it is terrible what has been going on. once more assuring you of our heartfelt sympathy in your sorrow, believe me, yours very sincerely, catherine gladstone. i could not at the moment understand what she meant, but i was soon enlightened by the appearance of the celebrated pamphlet on the bulgarian horrors. [illustration: myself in ] although all the letters i received were deeply sympathetic, i could see that the sympathy expressed was with me personally rather than with the cause i had so much at heart; for how can anyone sympathise with what they do not understand? great britain suspected russia as if it were the most natural thing in the world to do so, whilst russia reciprocated by suspecting great britain. each put the worst possible construction upon the { } acts of the other. seeing this, i decided to do all i could in my humble and unpretentious way to further a better understanding between the two nations. i remembered the fable of the mouse and the lion, and that was the beginning of forty years' work, during which i have never once wandered from the path i had chosen. there is in the little kingdom of serbia a village situated near the place where nicholas kiréeff fell, named kireevo in his honour. my brother alexander, who was present at the ceremony of naming the village, was deeply impressed by its fervour and the gratitude shown to a russian hero. whatever good i have been able to do i always regard as an offering upon the grave of my brother nicholas. an intense craving came over me to explain to all my friends the russian public opinion's ground for accusing england of responsibility for our mishaps in the balkans and for the tardy declaration of war by our government. (all the telegrams and letters referring to these terrible years have been duly collected by me and given to the roumiantzoff museum in moscow. certain documents and letters belong to history and must not perish with our death.) let me give some further details about what i (unsupported, unprotected, ignorant as i felt myself to be) returned to face on my arrival in england. those visits to england, by the by, did not extend at first over a couple of months, my family duties naturally taking me always back to russia. i never like to speak too much of myself, but i think i am in honour bound to explain to all those who showed me their sympathetic { } support that, after all, my only object was to do my very best and in that way, to a certain extent, deserve their support and sympathy. my plan was a very simple one: to let england know real russians and russian views, and to let russia know england and english views. { } chapter iii mr. gladstone and i strive for peace the real england--the st. james's hall meeting--remarkable enthusiasm--mr. gladstone's speech--he escorts me home--newspaper comment--lord salisbury and general ignatieff--mutual regard--the turks displeased--an embarrassing tribute--the end of the constantinople conference--mr. gladstone compromised--war declared--"what will england do?"--bismarck's policy--prince gortschakoff's opinion england's attitude towards russia had been frankly hostile: but a revulsion of feeling soon set in. i had always maintained that the real england was represented by mr. gladstone and not mr. disraeli. the first sign came from the north, and meetings of protest were held in different large towns, the upshot of which was the calling of a national conference on non-party terms. many of the most distinguished men in the country heartily supported the idea, and a great meeting was arranged to be held in the old st. james's hall on november , . i was present during the whole conference, to which i received ten separate invitations. the enthusiasm was tremendous throughout the proceedings: but when mr. gladstone rose to speak he received an ovation, and it was some minutes before the uproar subsided sufficiently to allow of his being heard. i was thrilled as i had never been thrilled { } before. the speech was a magnificent effort and i need not describe it here. i had never before heard mr. gladstone speak in public, and i was glad that it should be on the subject of the downtrodden slavs. he spoke for upwards of an hour and a half, and when he finished there was another outburst from the audience. it was nearly eight o'clock when i rose to leave the hall. as i was slowly making my way down the staircase, pushed and buffeted by the vast throng that was pouring out of the hall, i heard my name called and i recognised mr. gladstone's voice. he had seen me as he, too, was making his way out, and, offering me his arm, he conducted me into the street. in spite of his having delivered a long speech and that he was due at a dinner party, he insisted on accompanying me to claridge's, where i was staying, talking with interest and animation as we walked. leaving me at my door, where i strove to thank him for what he had done for russia in striking a blow at turkish prestige in england, he strode off to keep his appointment to dine with the corps diplomatique. when he arrived it was to find himself an hour late, and half the ambassadors to the court of st. james's hungry and diplomatically impatient. he tendered his apologies, also for the fact that he had not had time to dress, adding, "i have just been taking madame novikoff home to her hotel, which caused me to be a little late." this explanation was regarded by the diplomatists rather as adding insult to injury. to them it seemed { } an indiscretion for a british politician to see to her hotel the "agent" of a foreign power with whom relations were somewhat strained. the jingo and turkish newspapers seized upon the incident as an admirable means of prejudicing mr. gladstone in the eyes of their countrymen. thus was a simple act of courtesy on the part of an english gentleman, who happened also to be a politician, magnified into something of an international incident. mr. gladstone, however, was fearless. he never did anything that he was not convinced was right, and then he faced the world with that lion-like courage that seemed to say "come on--if you dare." of that memorable day i wrote soon after mr. gladstone's death, and although what i said has already been partly printed, it so clearly shows the fearlessness of mr. gladstone that i venture to quote it here. "on more than one occasion it has happened that he has acquainted me of his intentions, the daring of which both charmed and affrighted me. but hesitation before a goal firmly resolved upon he never knew. 'god indeed he feared, and other fear had none!' so, after the famous conference at st. james's hall, organised under his superintendence in favour of the orthodox slavs in turkey, i remarked that, in opposing thus the policy of disraeli and the queen, he was waging a revolution. he interrupted me: 'quite so, that is just the word for it. but my conscience has nothing to upbraid me with, for it is pre-eminently a christian revolution. besides,' he went on more slowly, 'i am not { } the only one who is doing so. the four thousand people who were present in the hall were almost unanimous in their adherence, and did not hesitate to express their sympathy with the noble part played by russia in the balkans. 'did you not notice,' he asked quickly, with a slight smile, 'that the only speaker hissed by the public merited this disgrace only because he sought to prove his impartiality by declaring that he was not specially a friend of russia? the funny thing about it,' he added, 'is that the poor orator is by no means a russophobe. i know him personally.' i shall never forget that incident as long as i live!" following the conference was the conference of the powers in constantinople. when lord salisbury went as the british plenipotentiary it was with a heart full of suspicion of general ignatieff, the russian ambassador at constantinople. poor ignatieff had been the text for many journalistic sermons upon the duplicity of russians in general, and the russian ambassador to turkey in particular. he was a veritable machiavelli, lord salisbury was told, who must be carefully watched. lord salisbury was, however, a man given to judging for himself, and much to the chagrin of the turks, he soon threw his suspicions aside and entered into cordial personal relations with the man whom he had been sent to circumvent. lord salisbury soon discovered that underneath a bluntness that was sometimes a little disconcerting, there was a man of honour and conviction. the british plenipotentiary was a just man who { } recognised that he had to deal with one who was too fearless to be diplomatically suave. soon the two men came to appreciate each other's qualities. ignatieff told lord salisbury not to believe anything he told him until he had first assured himself of its truth. there is one quality in an englishman that no one appeals to in vain, and that is his sportsmanship. whether by accident or design, ignatieff had struck the right note, and henceforth lord salisbury and he worked loyally together for peace. the turks were far from pleased with the course events were taking, and lord salisbury became extremely unpopular. sir edwin pears in his fascinating book, _forty years in constantinople_, has written that "lord salisbury may even be said to have been hooted out of the city." he could not, however, succeed in the face of disraeli's policy of antagonism, and the sending of a plenipotentiary to constantinople was little more than a farce,--a sop to british public opinion. after he left constantinople, general (or to give him his full title count nicholas) ignatieff, became minister of the interior, and at one time president of the slavonic society. on the day of the slavonic saints, cyril and methodius, this society generally holds its annual meeting, attended by from to members. on one such occasion the ignatieffs invited me to dine at their house and to go to the meeting with them. the countess, by the way, was as good a slavophil as her husband. at the conclusion of the meeting, the count made a very enthusiastic and { } eloquent speech, to which we both listened attentively. suddenly, to my great dismay and annoyance, i heard him say in a loud voice: "and here is a russian lady who is serving our patriotic cause abroad," etc. etc. taken aback by this unexpected demonstration, i heartily wished myself at the antipodes, and this wish increased when almost the entire audience surrounded me to express their effusive gratitude. it really was a terrible moment, though of course it was kindly meant.... but to return to . the conference at constantinople had broken up, i was then in russia, and lord salisbury had left the city conscious of his own unpopularity. he had endeavoured to impress upon the turks that against russia they stood alone, that is as far as great britain was concerned. abdul hamid knew great britain's suspicions of russia, and upon this he relied. the awakening came on april ( ) when russia declared war against turkey and great britain remained neutral, holding a watching brief. the public attitude towards myself at this period was one of very obvious hostility. the frank and open friendship existing between mr. gladstone and the "notorious agent of the russian embassy in london," did not pass without comment, and certain busybodies became very active. mr. gladstone was said to have "compromised" himself politically by writing letters to the "agent" of a foreign power which was at the very time being threatened with war by great britain. it all seems very absurd now, but in those days, when public { } opinion was at boiling point, it was not a matter to be treated lightly. we were accused by the press of conspiracy. we in russia were constantly asking each other what would be the attitude of england. on the eve of war our newspapers ascribed to england the following plans: ( ) to occupy athens and crete, preventing greece by all means from rising and helping us; ( ) refusal to permit russian vessels to pass gibraltar; ( ) and occupy constantinople if turkey gets too great a thrashing. i confess that i was at a loss as all these suggestions were tantamount to a declaration of war against russia. those were days of terrible anxiety. news of the declaration of war was received in petrograd on april / , at p.m. at p.m. the moscow douma assembled in the hotel de ville. there was immense enthusiasm. the douma at once offered a million roubles and beds for the wounded. cries were heard from different directions. "it was too little, far too little." then it was decided to consider the sum as a simple beginning. the merchants also met together and the same thing was repeated; also a voluntary donation of a million; ladies offered their services as sisters of charity; of them having already passed their examinations. russia seemed quite revived. "what will england do?" i wrote on that day to mr. gladstone. "i know what she would do if you were at the head of the government. but as it is now--well, we'll do our duty and let happen what may." england's decision was to do nothing--for the { } present. in the meantime a great wave of feeling was passing over russia; yet in england it appeared impossible for people to see that this was not a piece of political jobbery. when i went to russia at the end of i despaired of peace; but hoped that the courageous stand made by mr. gladstone might after all prevent war. those were very dark and gloomy days. we in russia were victims of all sorts of rumours as to what england intended to do, whilst in england there seemed to be a conviction that whatever russia might do it would constitute an unfriendly act. i have been proudly described by my brother alexander as maintaining a splendid, although a forlorn, struggle in the interests of peace. it may have been splendid, i do not know, but it was certainly forlorn. for a woman to endeavour to keep apart two nations who seemed determined to misunderstand each other, was a folly which, had i been more versed in the ways of the political world, i might have never attempted. out of my ignorance came my strength; for i dared to hope things at a period when hope was not 'quoted' on the political exchange. one of the curious anomalies of the situation was that, although bismarck's policy of getting england embroiled with russia was not overlooked in britain, yet everyone seemed to be doing their utmost to assist the iron chancellor in his designs. it was said that queen victoria herself was quite aware that germany was doing all she could to get the british army to the east so that her hands { } might be freed in the west, and the very newspapers that called most loudly for war frankly admitted their conviction that germany had designs on belgium. all this puzzled me excessively. with a woman's impatience i felt that i wanted to shake the silly men who would not understand that they were being used as catspaws of the master-mind of europe. bismarck was playing his game as only bismarck could. how he must have smiled to himself! no words of mine can give the slightest idea of what i suffered in those days. i could not sleep and i could not think. my mind was in a whirl. i felt again the torture which came over me when i heard of nicholas' death. in february i wrote from moscow as one almost distraught: "i would willingly give my life, a very poor gift indeed, for peace." soon after the st. james's hall conference, as i was passing through petrograd, i made a point of seeing prince gortschakoff: to urge him as well as i could, to do justice to the better part of england. i gave him as vivid a description as i could of the magnificent conference, and of the sympathies of the real representatives of well-thinking englishmen. that same evening, as i afterwards heard, he related to the czar our conversation in every detail. i remember prince gortschakoff observing that the british people were powerless and that beaconsfield would hoodwink them at a moment's notice. i could only reply that i hoped not. but i insisted on rendering justice to a people who, after { } meeting, had convinced me were as noble, as generous and true as we were ourselves. "you are partial," the prince said to me. "no," i replied, "i am true." i felt that in all russia i was the only one who was never tired of showing the difference between these two englands, the official england and the popular england. thus many of my countrymen and countrywomen who favoured a rupture with "perfidious england" were angry with me. they thought that i showed them only one side of the question, and that the whole country would yield to disraeli. { } chapter iv mr. gladstone his last utterance--his fearlessness--his opinion of russia and england--cardinal manning's tribute--gladstone and the old catholics--the question of immortality--mr. gladstone's remarkable letter--a delightful listener--his power of concentration--hayward and gladstone--their discussion--miss helen gladstone--we talk gladstone--the old lady's delight--i miss my train somebody once compared life to an education that can never be completed--and indeed, the more deeply one studies events and people, the more emphatically one realises how much must always remain that it is hopeless to try to understand. nevertheless, the very contact with certain characters, even if we cannot always fathom their depths, is ennobling and edifying, and however much time may have passed since they left us to go to a better sphere, it is always good to linger over memories of great men whom we have had the privilege to meet. i hope, therefore, that i may be allowed to add in this book a few words about my friendship with mr. gladstone. i have been told that the last word to fall from the lips of the great statesman several moments before his death, was "amen." what a fitting and characteristic ending! the whole life and activity of this grand old man, indeed, reminds one of nothing { } so much as of some nobly worded prayer or confession of faith. all his existence was based upon his religious ideals and convictions, which he put into practice simply and naturally in every word and action of his everyday life. christian love and charity permeated his activities in a way that is rare indeed among public men, surrounded as they are by intrigues and rivalries and difficulties. he was generous, as only so great and noble a character can be, to the many enemies that surrounded him, supported even by queen victoria herself, whose sympathies were all in favour of gladstone's opponent beaconsfield. another trait in mr. gladstone's character, that always aroused my admiration, was the firm, unhesitating manner in which he would demolish all obstacles and, without looking to right or to left, make straight for his goal, in the face of opposition, animosity, even danger, once he had decided that the goal in question was the right one, the one pointed out by his conscience and his principles. he was entirely fearless in his opinions and convictions--he knew indeed only one fear: the fear of god. it seems to me that his courage could only be compared to his kindness, and i should like, in this connection, to mention an incident that comes to my mind, and that can surely be no secret now after so many years. it happened in the year , during the great political crisis, when one heard on all sides the query: 'will he return to power?' everyone knew very well who was meant by the word "_he_." just at that time i published my _russia and england_, which cost me four years of { } work and fatigue, and also some hesitation. mr. gladstone called with his wife to express his sympathetic approval, which he did in the most encouraging terms. "i will write a review of your book," he said,--to which generous offer i replied protestingly, to mrs. gladstone's surprise and almost indignation: "no, no!" i exclaimed. "on no account! not at this critical moment. such a step may do you much harm. besides, in these emotional times, english people will never read my book at all!" in answer, mr. gladstone struck his hand angrily on the table, "i will compel them to read it," he said in a determined voice. "every englishman should not only read but _study_ it!" and truly enough, in spite of my remonstrances, the review was published in _the nineteenth century_, and contained the above recommendation to mr. gladstone's countrymen. could anyone be kinder or show greater political courage? how the events and incidents of those exciting days linger in one's memory! it is indeed certain that i shall never forget them! a few days after that glorious st. james's hall meeting, there was a great reaction in public opinion. a large section of the press began to ridicule mr. gladstone, calling him gladstonoff (english people at that time, having the scantiest knowledge of things russian, imagined that all russian names ended in _off!_), and even insinuating that he was an agent in the russian pay! but although one must admit that his responsibilities weighed heavily upon { } him, nothing shook the courage and the determination of this dauntless english slavophil to continue along the path he considered the right one. afterwards, when, at the summit of his greatness, he was for the second time re-elected prime minister, he wrote in his diary: oh, 'tis a burden, cromwell, 'tis a burden! too heavy for a man that hopes for heaven! and yet, how nobly and unflinchingly did he bear that burden all through his life! mr. gladstone has been discussed and appraised and honoured all the world over as a great statesman. to me, however, his supreme claim to greatness lay even beyond his genius, in his rare and irreproachable moral qualities. cardinal manning once remarked that mr. gladstone was a more fitting person to receive holy orders than himself. "in fact," added the cardinal frankly, "he is as perfectly suited for the church as i am _unsuited_ for it!" already in his childhood, gladstone seems to have exercised a beneficial influence over his companions. bishop hamilton, famed for his many virtues, and treated by his contemporaries almost as a saint, has admitted that little willie gladstone saved him from many an escapade at eton! much later, in , gladstone wrote his famous work, _the state in its relations to the church_; in he gave up his position as chief of the ministry in order to remain true to his religious convictions, and still later, in , he opposed, with all his energy, the "divorce bill," on the ground of his { } belief that a union consecrated by the church cannot be broken by human law. i will not dwell upon a fact so well known as the sensation produced by the great english statesman's pamphlet on _the vatican_. i will only say that it was the general public, and not mr. gladstone's personal friends, who were so astonished at the views expounded in that pamphlet. in his own intimate circle, i constantly heard him repeat his opinion that "roman catholicism is the systematic tyranny of the priest over the layman, the bishop over the priest, and the pope over the bishop." feeling in his soul, on the one hand, almost a horror of rome, and on the other a deep religious inspiration, mr. gladstone's sympathy with and admiration for the great cause of the old catholics were almost a foregone conclusion. he first came in contact with this movement through his friend döllinger, and he never ceased to express his confidence in its ultimate success. whenever he spoke of the old catholics, and he did so very frequently, it was always to express himself about them in terms of deep sympathy and approval, as of true christians who strive, with such inspired faith and steadfast purpose, to propagate the doctrines of the original christian church, robbed of all the human errors that have crept into it and are represented by the ambitious and tyrannical papacy of the vatican. mr. gladstone was one of the first subscribers to the _revue internationale de théologie_, which always occupied a place of honour in his library, and which, in january, , published his long letter to me on the subject of old catholicism { } and döllinger. this letter is reproduced in my pamphlet: "_christ or moses? which?_" for döllinger, mr. gladstone had the warmest admiration and friendship, looking upon him as one of the most remarkable men in the contemporary christian church. the following letter from mr. gladstone will, i think, have some interest for my readers:-- hawarden castle, chester, oct. , . my dear madame novikoff, i can hardly ever write anything upon suggestion, what is more, is that i have before me continuous operations, long ago planned, and must refrain from those that are fragmentary. so i can undertake nothing new. my interest in the old catholics is cordial. a sister of mine died in virtual union with them after having been roman for over years. i remember suggesting to dr. döllinger that their future would probably depend in great measure upon their being able to enter into some kind of solid relations with the eastern church. and i earnestly hope this may go forward. dr. döllinger agreed in this opinion. they may do great good, and prevent the latin church by moral force from further extravagances. all this you will think disheartening with reference to the object of your letter. but i have a little more to say. i have been drawn into writing a preface to a pictorial edition of the bible, which will probably { } have a very wide circulation in america, but will be confined to english-speakers. my preface will have no reference to that edition, but to the authority and value of the scriptures. i think there will be nothing to which you or old catholics would object.... believe me, sincerely yours, w. e. gladstone. one of the most interesting letters i ever received from mr. gladstone, and one which showed his extreme kindness to me when i was in some theological difficulties, involves a story. a very eminent and scientific friend, discussing with me some years ago the weighty question of immortality according to the old testament, emphatically said: "the old testament knows no immortality! this is a fact which almost every student of theology understands perfectly well, and which, at the same time, nobody outside that class appears to have the least inkling of. the old and new testaments are commonly spoken and thought of as one book--one inspired work--instead of as two volumes, based on opposite and irreconcilable principles. the doctrine of the first is principally materialistic. the doctrine of the second is purely idealistic. the old testament represents god as jehovah, quite otherwise than he is pictured by jesus christ. god, as pictured by the jews, manifested himself in the terrible '_lex talionis_,' described in exodus xxi. , : 'eye for eye, burning for burning, wound for wound.' whilst we are ordered by jesus { } christ to 'do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you.'" i was greatly impressed by that conversation. it is obvious that once we deny immortality, we, at the same time, reject the existence of the soul. an ardent desire seized me to discuss that most important question from different points of view. i pressed my friend to sum up all his arguments and publish them to the world. after much hesitation he consented to do so, provided i took upon myself the responsibility of the publication and the distribution of his pamphlet amongst well-known professors of different european universities. beyond this, a _condítío sine qua non_ was my promise not to reveal his name during his lifetime. of these stipulations the latter was, of course, the easiest; but i carefully carried out all of them. but now that he is dead i am at liberty to disclose his name. it was count alexander keyserling, to whom bismarck offered the post of minister of public instruction in germany, but which keyserling refused. i published, for private circulation, the german pamphlet _unsterblichkeítslehre nach der bibel_, and sent it to one hundred professors, including frohschammer, albert réville, treitschke, blunschli, aloïs riehl, etc., etc., asking their opinion. in the great majority of cases they returned answer that the facts set forth were already well known to them, and, in fact, were generally admitted. one of the fraternity, a roman catholic priest, abused me roundly for dragging such a subject into public discussion. { } but i bore this censure with equanimity. "_du choc des opíníons jaillit la vérité_," and the more we study and investigate questions which guide our life the better. since then my desire to have the question more deeply investigated has been increased greatly by the assertion of a talented and outspoken jewish writer that judaism, or rather its teaching, is spreading. in the august number of the _fortnightly review_, , he says: "this virtual assumption that the limits of human knowledge can extend no farther than those of the visible world, appears to me to be the central idea of judaism." and he further asserts: "judaism, _the materialistic teaching_, is then found to have resulted in judaism the physical force." the author finishes thus: "history will show that ... it has been silently engaged in that further judaisation of mankind, which is the sole ideal of its singularly practical teaching." be it noted that the above is quoted from a panegyric of the jewish doctrine! amongst those who wrote to me was professor e. michaud, one of the most distinguished representatives of the old catholic movement, and the editor of the _la revue internationale de théologie_ (berne, suisse) who wrote as follows: "from a habit of detesting the jews, people are sometimes brought to depreciate judaism and ascribe to it almost materialistic doctrines. judaism is certainly not christianity; but neither is it materialism." somewhat bewildered by these unexpected, and, as i think, exaggerated protests, i appealed to mr. gladstone, whose kindness in these matters had for { } years been unfailing to me. my letter appears to have given him the mistaken impression that i was venturing on my own account into the polemical arena. hence his reply, cautioning me against an undertaking so obviously beyond my powers. his letter is most important, and i am glad to be able to publish so weighty a judgment on the most serious of all subjects, by the greatest englishman of his century. here it is:-- hotel cap martin, mentone, feb. th, . my dear madame novikoff, i am sorry you have not a better adviser, but i will discharge as fairly and frankly as i can the part which you desire me to undertake. i do not see why the word "_heresy_" should be flung at you. heresy is a very grave matter, and should not be charged except in cases where not only the subject matter is grave, but also the whole authority of the church or christian community has been brought to bear. i conceive, however, that the question of jewish opinion on a future state, as opened in the old testament, is a question quite open to discussion. i have myself been a good deal engaged latterly in examining the question of a future state, and have had occasion to touch more or less upon jewish opinion. the subject is very interesting, but is also large and complex, and i would advise you as strongly as i may against publishing anything upon it without a previous examination proportioned in some degree to the character of the { } subject. how can you safely enter upon it without some attention to the researches and the opinions of the writers who have examined it? my own state of information is by no means so advanced as to warrant the expression of confident and final conclusions. but i think there are some things that are clearly enough to be borne in mind. we cannot but notice the wise reserve with which the creeds treat the subject of the future state. after the period when they were framed, christian opinion came gradually, i believe, to found itself upon an assumption due to the greek philosophy, and especially to plato, namely, that of the natural immortality of the human soul. and this opinion (which i am not much inclined to accept) supplies us, so to speak, with spectacles through which we look back upon the hebrew ideas conveyed in the old testament. another view of the matter is, that man was not naturally immortal, but _immortalíable_. that had he not sinned, he would have attained regularly to immortality; but after his eating from the tree of knowledge he was prevented, as the text informs us, from feeding on the tree of life, and the subject of his immortality was thus thrown into vague and obscure distance. i suppose it to be a reasonable opinion that there was a primitive communication of divine knowledge to man, but of this revelation we have no knowledge beyond the outline, so to call it, conveyed in the book of genesis. that outline, however, appears to show in the case of enoch that one righteous man was specially saved from death; and the words of { } our saviour in the gospel give us to understand that there were at any rate glimpses of the future state underlying jewish opinion. we must not, i think, forget the respect with which our saviour treats that opinion. nor can we forget that the mosaic dispensation, coming as it were upon the back of the old patriarchal religion, being essentially national, was also predominantly temporal, and tended very powerfully to throw the idea of the future state into the shade. nevertheless, it is, i think, generally admitted that, while in certain passages the psalmist speaks of it either despairingly or doubtfully, in some psalms the subject is approached with a vivid and glowing belief; as when, for example, it is said: "when i awake up after thy likeness i shall be satisfied with it." you know how much upon some occasions i have both sympathised with and admired your authorship. i do not dissuade you from following up the task to which you are now drawn. but i do not think you have as yet quite reached the point at which publication would do honour to yourself or justice to your theme. and i am sure this very imperfect reply will serve to show that i do not treat your letter with levity nor try wantonly to throw obstacles in your path. i shall be interested to know what you decide about writing--with or without further study. w. e. gladstone. p.s.--your letter, dated th, reached me yesterday. { } mr. gladstone's letter may be regarded as the first and most interesting of those authoritative opinions which it is my sole object to elicit. people who met gladstone at my house always found in him not only an excellent and charming listener, but also a man who was ever ready to hear new suggestions, and who delighted in original opinions or ideas that seemed worthy of closer investigation. on some occasions, he was eloquent and talkative; at other times, quite the contrary. one afternoon, for instance, he was in the midst of arguing an interesting point with me, when he suddenly perceived on my table a catalogue of recent works on shakespeare. it happened that he had never seen this particular catalogue before, and being an ardent shakespeare enthusiast, the title attracted his attention. he picked up the book, approached a lamp, and began interestedly turning over the pages. presently he sank into a chair, and having clearly quite forgotten his surroundings, was soon lost in study of his favourite literary subject. among my other visitors on that particular afternoon was hayward, a well-known critic, also a dabbler in poetry and a would-be man of the world. hayward had a great weakness for people with sounding names and assured positions, and was, of course, always more than pleased to be seen in conversation with the great prime minister of england. i was quite aware of this, and inwardly somewhat amused, for indeed, though myself belonging to the class patronised by hayward, i often invited to my house people whose _present_ was perhaps humble, { } but whose _future_ seemed to me promising. i have every sympathy and admiration for family traditions, and aristocratic manners and associations--but i have always felt that if one never comes in contact with self-made, energetic, persevering people with ideas and ideals, one is inclined to grow narrow and prejudiced. this has always particularly struck me during my visits to vienna. the viennese aristocracy, in spite of loud voices and a bad habit of shouting as though one were deaf, is distinguished for its graceful and charming manners. however, beyond references to ballets and to sport, punctuated by gossip about mutual friends, conversation is practically non-existent. there is only a perpetual buzz of small talk, tedious to the highest degree, and to me at least, acceptable only in homoeopathic doses! self-made men, as i have found, always have something more interesting to say; their characters are often worth studying, give one food for reflection, and, being a new element in society, introduce new ideas to broaden our minds. this has always been my view, and i have followed it out, often in the face of protests from my friends who urged me to be more exclusive, and who failed to understand that ideas are better than empty grandeur. gladstone, froude, kinglake, tyndall and many others, however, fortunately shared my peculiar tastes in this matter, and perhaps this was one of the reasons why my association with them was always, as i think, pleasant for us all. but i have made a long digression, and must return to my party. { } hayward, as i have said, was always greatly attracted by the presence of gladstone, and made every effort to draw him into conversation. alas, however, nothing could divert him from his book (the shakespeare catalogue). his answers to all hayward's remarks were vague and monosyllabic, and only after some time did he look up and reply quite irrelevantly to some question on current events. "strange, i have never seen this catalogue before," observed gladstone. hayward was indignant. "there is nothing to see," he grumbled testily, "it is only a list of reprints, and an incomplete list at that." "no, no," remonstrated gladstone enthusiastically, "that is just the charm of it--there really seems to be nothing missing." "oh, yes," objected hayward angrily, "there are many things missing. i know all the shakespearean literature as well as anyone. i can show you at once." "oh, but show me, show me," exclaimed gladstone, highly interested. hayward took the volume somewhat resentfully, and it was now his turn to lose himself in its pages, while gladstone waited in silence, and my remaining visitors looked at me almost in distress! the incident ended as unexpectedly as it began. after having almost quarrelled with hayward about some published or unpublished works, gladstone suddenly remembered that he had promised mrs. gladstone to be back at a certain hour, rose hurriedly, and took his leave. i was exceedingly amused; not so, however, my remaining guests. { } "you can hardly say that these manners are good!" remarked someone to me. "well," i answered, "i never find fault with my friends. besides, is it not natural that an englishman should be carried away with enthusiasm for your great english genius shakespeare, who is honoured all the world over?" this was not the only occasion on which i remarked that gladstone had an almost morbid love of books. in russia, we had only one man who was a match for the great english premier in this respect: this was the head of our holy synod, pobyedonostzeff. i used to send new books that i came across to both these friends, but i confess that i seldom had the satisfaction to find that my gifts were not already known to them. pobyedonostzeff being, of course, incessantly busy and in demand, and rarely having a moment to himself, would on receiving a new book that interested him, take a train from petrograd to moscow, and back in order to enjoy some hours of solitude and the possibility of reading his book undisturbed during this improvised journey! another of my book-lover friends who has left so warm an impression in my remembrance, and whose name comes to my mind as i write, is tyndall. how good and kind-hearted he always was, and how responsive and eager to do good and to help others! as i have said, mr. gladstone was greatly interested in the old catholics. on one occasion when we were both dining with dr. döllinger, one of the leaders of the old catholic movement, at { } munich, we were discussing the old catholicism and mr. gladstone repeated how greatly interested he was in the movement. i remember the way in which he spoke to me afterwards of his sister in connection with the old catholic question. i thought it only natural to tell him that, as i should pass cologne on my way to russia, i would like to call on her. mr. gladstone's face brightened at my suggestion. when i called on miss helen gladstone i found that she already expected my visit, and had heard a great deal not only about me, but about the old catholic question. "yes," she said, "my brother is quite a superior man. but if you knew what an original he is! for instance, once when he was travelling abroad already in his capacity of prime minister, his wife desired him to take a drive and off they went. but what vehicle do you think they took? a little one-horsed cart, just as if they were two paupers sent on some business!" "don't you think it is natural," said i, "for a man like mr. gladstone, who has so many grand ideas and splendid schemes, to pay no attention to the trivialities of this conventional world? let me tell you what happened to us once, when the gladstones and myself met at munich. we went to a museum, the president of which was very anxious to make the 'honneurs' of some very rare specimens. he showed us a certain dish, and seemed particularly proud of it. your brother took it in his hand, examined it very carefully, and then said: 'but you know, professor, this is not genuine. in { } a genuine dish there would be here a special little mark that is not to be found here,' the president actually turned pale--would you believe it?" dear miss gladstone seemed quite charmed with this story. "oh, how like him!" she exclaimed. "he knows everything. but you promised to tell me something more about him," she pressed. "well," i said, "my second recollection refers to our meeting in paris. when i arrived there the celebrated politician and journalist, emile de girardin, asked me to a large dinner party that he was giving. a few days before this event, i heard of the gladstones' arrival in paris and mentioned it to monsieur de girardin, with the suggestion how nice it would be if he were to invite them also. my old frenchman was delighted. 'oh, do try to arrange that!' he exclaimed; 'i do not know them personally, but have always longed to make their acquaintance. i shall send you the list of all my guests, and hope you will try to ascertain whom they would like to meet, and whom to avoid.' this was an easy task, and i fulfilled it. mr. gladstone said: 'i would very much like to meet your brother, general kiréeff (who had already been invited), and the contributor of the _revue des deux mondes_, scherer'--(scherer was a celebrated senator, politician and literary critic). it so happened that by chance i knew some of his work, and was delighted at the prospect of this meeting. but mr. gladstone frankly admitted that he would not like to meet gambetta. this desire was also observed at the end of the dinner; one of the guests addressed a long speech of welcome to mr. gladstone, of course in { } french. but just fancy my surprise, when mr. gladstone rose and answered, also in french, to the delight of the whole assembly. no one had suspected that he possessed such a mastery of the french language. as to my brother, who took miss helen gladstone in to dinner, they turned out to be both great admirers of botticelli and well agreed on their favourite subject." dear old miss gladstone seemed delighted with all these details about her relations, and pressed me to prolong my visit, which i did to the point of losing my train! { } chapter v some social memories my thursdays in russia--khalil pasha's death--lord napier and the lady-in-waiting--madame volnys--my parents-in-law's _ménage_--an exceptional type--prince vladimir dolgorouki's embarrassment--the grand duchess helen--a brilliant woman--the emperor's enjoyment--the campbell-bannermans--a royal diplomatist--mark twain on couriers--in serious vein--verestchagin--"the retreat from moscow"--the kaiser's remarkable utterance i must say i was very fortunate with my thursday receptions in russia. in the first place, my husband, who was not particularly fond of singing or playing, never opposed either. diplomatists like lord napier, the english ambassador at petrograd, and the turk, khalil pasha, turkish ambassador (but brought up in france and devoted to french theatres), also used to come and be as silent as mice if music was already going on. that poor khalil had a very dramatic end. he returned to constantinople, as he thought for a short time, but fell ill. his european doctors insisted on an immediate cure at carlsbad, but his sultan, for some reason unknown to me, opposed his leaving turkey. the poor man died mysteriously, and his enormous wealth as mysteriously disappeared. at one of my little receptions there happened a { } very disagreeable duel between lord napier and a lady-in-waiting belonging to the court of the grand duchess helen. she was the sister of an ambassador, with whom, however, she was not on very affectionate terms. undoubtedly pretty, she was occasionally rude and almost ill-bred. on seeing him, mademoiselle de ---- exclaimed: "lord napier, i spent last evening at the winter palace with old countess bludoff. we talked of you and laughed very much." i felt simply horrified at that speech, but napier remained quite self-possessed. "i know," said he, "you were asked there to be shown to my new secretary, mitford." here, fortunately, the dialogue was interrupted by rubinstein, who started a sonata. a fortunate interruption! soon after that in came madame volnys, the celebrated french actress, who promised to give us some scenes of molière's _tartuffe_, which she did to perfection. madame volnys was a remarkable woman, not only possessing great histrionic talent, but also very superior character. she lost her only child, whom she adored. this brought her into contact with our empress marie alexandrovna (very particular in her choice of associates), the consort of our "emperor liberatas," who used to invite her to the palace as her lecturer fairly often. in the same year something quite unexpected happened to me. my husband's parents, very old people, but who had never been abroad, suddenly decided to go to paris, and i was asked to join them { } later on. off they went, after having paid us in petrograd a visit of two or three weeks. they travelled in quite exceptional comfort. they had a lady travelling-companion, my mother-in-law had her maid, my father-in-law his valet, and to crown all there was a russian cook, whom my mother-in-law declared to be far superior to any foreigner, including even the french. whatever my mother-in-law declared was law to the whole family, not only to her docile husband and her two sons, but to her two daughters-in-law, and anybody coming to her house. i remember one day my brother-in-law, who was already ambassador at vienna, and my husband, who at that time was a lieutenant-general attached to the grand duke nicolas, father of the present head of our troops, were sitting and talking together. their mother entered the room and they both got up and stood until she told them to sit down again. my mother-in-law was an exceptional type. she was the daughter of prince vladimir dolgorouki, the poet, and tremendously proud of her origin, but in russia all the princes dolgorouki descended from rurick, who came to russia in the ninth century, and having all the same origin are surely fairly equal. but such was not my mother-in-law's idea, and she once upbraided the governor-general of moscow, having the same name as her own, for belonging to the younger branch. the poor man looked very much embarrassed. another pleasant memory is that of the grand duchess helen. a woman who loses her youth, { } beauty and gaiety, and remains in possession only of her immortal soul, may naturally expect to be forgotten by her so-called "friends." but a russian grand duchess enjoying an exceptionally high position, with palaces and a numerous court at her disposal, is a privileged person. no need for her to "request the favour" of so-and-so's company to tea, dinner or reception. she dictates her list, including the names of wits, artists or ministers, whose attendance she desires. the courier transmits her orders, and the guests arrive. _voilà tout!_ permission to attend service in palace private chapels is generally received through a lady-in-waiting or the "grande maitresse"--as, at least, i know from personal experience. the dear grand duchess helen remained to the last day of her life, to me, always brilliant and clever, and i was sincerely attached to her. i shall never forget, however, the difficulty i had to execute one of her orders. she was giving a ball to their majesties, at which, punctually at midnight, dominoes were to appear in a prearranged set. i was asked to secure these mysterious apparitions. but this proved a far from easy task. for not only had i to find ladies who were witty, amusing and sprightly, but also those who would be willing to deprive themselves of being seen as invited guests, in order to pass through the rooms as apparitions--carefully masked. now one of my candidates had the misfortune to possess very ugly prominent egg-like eyes, "but"--thought i--"there is the mask, it will conceal all sorts of imperfections." nevertheless, i thought { } it prudent to warn her. "remember," said i, "the orders are that identity must be _strictly_ concealed." "oh, that is quite impossible in my case," she proudly replied, "for my bright and almost oriental eyes are well known and would certainly be recognised by everyone." so i dropped the oriental-eyed creature and secured a substitute. the emperor assured his aunt afterwards that he had greatly enjoyed her party. the grand duchess, as well as her other nephew--the grand duke constantine nicolaevitch--was devoted to the emperor's reforms, especially to his scheme concerning the abolition of serfdom in russia. that plan, no doubt, was of tremendous magnitude. it not only granted personal freedom to forty-eight millions of serfs, but half the number of them had to become freeholders. that reform, by the by, was carried out in two years' time. was it not a miraculous rapidity? there was another detail of this measure, which was really a very noble and grand one; we, the nobility of all the country, have lost, through that measure, nearly half of all we possessed. an important fact, no doubt, but i never heard any indignation, protest or murmur evoked by that change. everybody felt its urgency, and a feeling of justice prevailed with all the others. sir henry campbell-bannerman was very much interested in that question, and plied me with many questions. not being able to satisfy his curiosity during our meetings at carlsbad, i promised to { } procure from russia the desired information, and did so eventually on my arrival at london. it was at the grand duchess helen's villa at carlsbad, where we were invited every evening during her stay, that i met the campbell-bannermans for the first time. those were immensely interesting evenings, when one met only people worth knowing. one of the charming characteristics of these gatherings was their unpretentiousness and simplicity. many of the guests were invalids, melancholy slaves to all sorts of hygienic regulations. fortunately, i was not one of these, and could enjoy my moral food as well as the beautiful fruit that the rest of the world could only contemplate. my friend, count alexander keyserling, was attached to the grand duchess helen's court during her foreign trip of that year, and he alone could make any gathering most interesting. before leaving carlsbad, the campbell-bannermans insisted upon my promising to see them often in london, and they soon became a new attraction for me during my stays in england. the first years of my travels, my winter visits to london were of very short duration--but dear england grows upon one, and little by little my sojourns extended themselves from october till may. few people have left me such dear memories as sir henry campbell-bannerman and his wife. i visited them in their english country house, but never in scotland, as i was always afraid of being too much carried away from my work, which required unremitting perseverance and study. { } contrary to what often happened to me, i liked them both almost equally, though dear lady c.-b.'s moral qualities prevailed over her physical charms. she had excellent qualities, greatly appreciated by her husband and her friends. thus, for instance, she knew her blue books almost better than did her husband, and when the conversation turned on some particular events with dates and detail she could surpass everybody with her memory. i must add that both husband and wife were very hospitable, and i was allowed, no, even pressed, to lunch with them whenever i liked. i did so fairly often on sundays, as i frequently wanted sir henry's advice on different subjects, and this he never failed to give. more than once i said to him: "i recognise your wisdom and your prudence in all you say and do, i feel sure the day will come when you will be prime minister." though i am neither a clairvoyante nor a prophetess--still, my prophecy turned out to be true. he always (was it simply out of modesty?) denied the possibility of such a happening. but i was right after all, and he was wrong. to be with sir henry was always a particular pleasure to me. it was such a delight to see a man so staunch to his principles, so firm with people about him, and so kind to those depending on him. he certainly, _pace_ sydney smith, appreciated a joke. we were talking one day about the head of a royal house. i related how i, along with some diplomatists, was presented to the court in question. "i think i am right," said the royal hostess, to { } one of the latter, smiling graciously, "you are the successor of your predecessor?" he bowed very deeply, and seemed quite pleased with that platitude. i was somewhat taken aback and rather amused, but when the reception was over, a lady-in-waiting said to me: "is not her highness admirably clever and gracious? how well she talks!" court people are sometimes very easily pleased. i did not commit myself to much admiration! sir henry was greatly amused at the story. the last time i saw sir henry and had a long talk with him, was when he dined with me after his return from france. he came to meet the russian ambassador on the rd of january. "do you know," i said, "people assure me that you are going to the house of lords. i am rather surprised to hear it," i added frankly. but he simply ridiculed the idea of such a step. "you are quite right in being sceptical," he said. "i love my work, and i am not going to lay it down." that was the last time he dined out. he made a further brief appearance in the house of commons, but it speedily became evident that his days were numbered. still, he clung to the hope that he would regain strength. his colleagues, mr. asquith in particular, did everything a man could to ease his burden. doctors declared that dropsy had set in as the result of heart weakness. but his courage was unabated, and his faith undimmed. my impression is that his wife's death undoubtedly accelerated his own end. strange reports have been spread about his last days. people who were allowed to watch { } around his bed heard the dying man speak from time to time, as of old, to the life-long companion of all his joys and sorrows, his beloved wife, as if she were present before him, and that he would soon rejoin her in the land of another life. tennyson had the same experience with his son lionel. if these visions are actually granted, would it not be a great consolation and a reward for deep affection? in those days i had many friends who possessed very little in common with each other. carlyle and froude would sometimes call on me, but generally when i was likely to be alone. to me carlyle showed only the lovable and affectionate side of his nature. he was a dear old man, and i loved nothing better than to see opposite me his rugged old face, and hear his broad scots accent. when the publication in book form of my articles was under discussion, he said, "you must publish all your articles." "but who will write a preface?" i enquired. "will you do so?" the dear old man shook his head dolefully, and, looking at his trembling hand, said: "i could not, i am too old, but here is a young man"--and he looked at froude who was with him. "he can do it." froude protested very gallantly that my articles did not require a preface, but nevertheless he most kindly wrote one which, no doubt, induced a large number of people to make themselves acquainted with my views. [illustration: seminary for school teachers built by alexander novikoff at novo-alexandrofka] carlyle and i had one great thing in common: { } our distrust of disraeli and our sympathy with the oppressed slavs. in , when the jingoes were shouting their loudest over the russian mission to afghanistan, which had precipitated the afghan war, carlyle referred to politics as "a sore subject nowadays with our damnable premier," as he called him. he was always generous with regard to the humble efforts of the "rooshian leddy" as he called me. he knew that whatever my literary shortcomings i was sincere, and that was the one golden key to dear old carlyle's heart. when death came within sight, almost within touch, he regarded it not as an enemy but rather as a magician who was to open to him a new world of wonder. it might almost be said that he went part of the way to meet it. we, his friends, were always being thrilled by false alarms. one day, two and a half years before his death, he solemnly warned those about him of his approaching death. i recall on another occasion i was told the end was very near; the next i heard was that he was as devoted as ever to his omnibus rides. in those days one never knew whether carlyle were dying or riding in an omnibus. when two years later the end was slowly approaching, i refrained from going to see him, thinking it a greater act of friendship to remain away rather than to make any claim upon his fast-ebbing vitality. i was deeply touched when he enquired of those about him: "why does not madame novikoff come to see me?" i went and found him very weak, but genuinely { } glad to see me. he talked slowly and carefully, showing that the breaking-up of the body had in no way affected his magnificent mind. i remember his complaining to me that froude wanted him to correct proofs on his death-bed; but that he had refused! i am not what would be described as emotional, having perhaps more than the average amount of control over myself; but i felt at the bedside of that dear old man that i could not keep my self-possession. his last words to me were: "ay, ay, when you come back here (from russia) you will not find me alive." as to my other old friends, like kinglake, froude, charles villiers and count béust--who were, in fact, my daily visitors--i need not more than mention their names, having written of them so fully elsewhere. among the many interesting personalities whom i have at various times met, there comes to my mind the remembrance of mark twain. the society of the great american humorist was always greatly sought after--a very natural circumstance--for, unlike many famous wits who keep all their brilliancy exclusively at the points of their pens, mark twain was sociable and talkative and seemed to have an inexhaustible supply of delightful anecdotes, ever ready and at the disposition of his friends. he called on me one day, and, speaking of his approaching departure on some pleasure trip with his wife and two daughters, remarked with a humorous twinkle in his eye: { } "it is fortunate that we have no courier to make a muddle with our tickets----" "why should couriers make muddles?" i asked. "have you had tragic experiences of that kind?" "not personally," he answered; "but there was a millionaire who travelled with all his huge family, the kind of family that is described in the old testament. they gave themselves great airs, and of course arrived at the station one minute before the departure of the train, having left everything to their courier. the latter, however, had evidently been otherwise occupied, and was late too, arriving almost at the same moment as the family. "'how late you are!' shouted the irate millionaire. 'give me the tickets--quick!' the courier, in great haste, fumbled nervously among a confusion of papers in his pocket-book, and thrust into his employer's hand a packet of tickets. the engine was already getting up steam, and there was not a moment to be lost. my poor friend passed the packet on to a guard and asked excitedly for his reserved carriage, only to receive in reply a questioning stare. alas! the tickets turned out to be of little use on the railway, for they were--concert tickets! the courier, you see, was a singer, and had been thinking too much about his own affairs!" mark twain often amused his hearers by describing in the most humorous manner his own past jokes. "some time ago," he told me on one occasion, "everyone went mad about table turning! i wrote a long article on the subject, but in spite of the remonstrances of my publisher, refused to sign it. "don't you see?" he added, "i wanted to be { } taken seriously--had i disclosed my identity, everyone would have taken all i said for a joke!" so there is something in a name after all, in spite of shakespeare! i have, indeed, seen mark twain very much in earnest. that was on the negro question. what seemed to me a great prejudice, represented, in his eyes, a regular danger to the civilised world. not long ago, a very cultivated woman, just arrived from america, spoke to me with dread about the impudence and self-conceit of the negroes. how different her pictures were from those of mrs. beecher-stowe in _uncle tom's cabin_! another great personality was verestchagin, the russian painter, a very dear friend of mine. i have elsewhere described him as the count tolstoy of painters. he had the same genius, the same fearlessness and the same craving for what he conceived to be the truth, and possibly occasionally the same exaggerated touch of realism. we russians have a way of regarding our great artists as artists, and if they injudiciously dabble in politics, we forgive it when considering their genius. verestchagin took part in many wars, and it is not strange that he should say, as he once did to me, that men were everywhere the same, "all animals, combatant, pugnacious, murderous animals." his remarks upon war are peculiarly interesting at the present time, for he was not an arm-chair philosopher, but, like francisco goya, had seen the real horrors of war. he pointed out that the actual killing of the enemy was only a very small part of war, which means hunger and thirst and great { } hardship, sleepless nights, marches beneath blazing suns, or drenched by rain. verestchagin was a great friend of skobeleff, and this drew us closely together. the two had been through the same war together; and i remember that but for the wisdom of certain russian officials that war might have been prolonged. it is well known that skobeleff was a man of very independent character. on the eve of the russo-turkish war some difficulty arose between him and the authorities, and he determined to resign his commission and enlist as a private, as he was determined to fight, no matter in what capacity. he was saved from this by a prudent act on the part of the officials known in england as "climbing down." who knows what would have happened had the brave and glorious skobeleff been one of the led instead of the idolised leader? skobeleff was indeed one of the most charming, captivating men i ever met. i was acquainted with his mother at a time when the son was only known to me by his brilliant reputation. madame skobeleff, passing through moscow, once invited me to accompany her on a journey to the balkans, which tempting invitation, however, i did not accept, owing to the fact that my husband was at the time ill, and i did not venture to leave him. my matrimonial scruples probably saved my life, as madame skobeleff met her death during that journey, and had i been with her i should probably have shared her fate. to be more precise, she was assassinated by her montenegrin guide, uzatis, who immediately committed suicide, so that the motives { } of the murder remained an inscrutable mystery, as he did not touch her jewellery or her money. one day i received a letter from skobeleff, asking permission to call on me. he came and talked, which he did to perfection. and i--listened: the only thing _i_ do to perfection! my heart was throbbing all the time, to a point that made me wonder whether it would not burst, as he kept on talking of his determination to go to egypt, or anywhere, for some fighting, no matter in what capacity, be it even as a humble private. "are you not ashamed of yourself," i exclaimed, "to risk a life so precious to russia? stay at home, exercise your influence on our foreign policy--that is also a noble work." "oh," he answered, "as to that i am convinced that death will find me, not on the battlefield, but at home, in russia. every day i receive scores of anonymous letters, predicting the nearness of my end." on leaving me, he asked if i would accept his photograph, which he afterwards sent me, with charmingly encouraging inscription: "to mme. olga novikoff from an enthusiastic admirer of her patriotic work." i may add that this fine portrait is now in moscow in the roumiantzoff museum. two weeks later he was no more. verestchagin described to me some of the horrors of the bulgarian war. i would willingly have closed my ears to them, but there is a strange and grim fascination in horror, especially when described by a man of verestchagin's personality. he saw the turkish prisoners being driven northward { } to russia and the agonies they suffered. to add to the frightfulness an early frost set in and the poor fellows, worn out through the long siege, dropped by the wayside and were frozen to death. these scenes enabled him to paint napoleon's "retreat from moscow." it is of peculiar interest now to recall the kaiser's comments when he saw verestchagin's picture exhibited at berlin. he looked long and earnestly at the canvas, in particular at the figure of napoleon tramping through the snow. he is said to have remarked that such pictures were our safest guarantees against war. "yet," he added, "in spite of that there will still be men who want to govern the world, but they will all end the same." was this a prophecy, or merely a remark uttered with the object of blinding his contemporaries to his real purpose? it is certainly very interesting to note that the kaiser would not allow the students of the military schools to see the "retreat from moscow." people must draw from that their own conclusions. verestchagin came to london on the occasion of his exhibition, when i saw a good deal of him. suddenly he was called back to russia, and he came to me and announced his intention of returning immediately. "but," i said, "you cannot leave your pictures." "there are my two servants," he replied. "they will look after them." "but," expostulated i, "they can speak only russian, and that will not be of much assistance to them in london. how can they look after your { } affairs when they cannot speak either english or french?" "oh, that will be all right," he replied. "they will manage." that was verestchagin all over. the upshot of it was that i volunteered to look after his interests, and every morning i would go down to the gallery to see if there was anything demanding attention, and the people at the gallery, apparently marvelling at such devotion in a friend, insisted upon addressing me as madame verestchagin. verestchagin was one of the first victims of the russo-japanese war. { } chapter vi the emperor nicholas i a pacific emperor--an imperial fault--the pauper's funeral--the emperor's visit to my mother--my dilemma--the emperor's kindness--he is snubbed by an ingenue--the emperor's desire for an alliance with england--prince gortschakoff's rejoinder--the slav ideal--russia and constantinople--bismarck's admiration--he discomfits a member of the reichstag a noteworthy example of a _rapprochement_ between england, france, and russia, long before the triple entente in politics became an established fact, was the researches undertaken three-quarters of a century ago, by three leading scientific authorities, into the geological features of the russian empire. sir roderick murchison, m. de verneuil and count alexander keyserling were appointed by their respective governments to make a joint expedition and, as a result of their labours, wrote a book entitled _the geology of russia in europe and the urals_, which was published by the british museum in , in two volumes. this was indeed a promising beginning, and may be said to have been the precursor for much co-operation between these nations long before an entente was within the sphere of practical politics. at any rate, it serves to prove that there is a natural bond of sympathy between the great allies, and that it is in no sense a question of political expediency. { } this took place under the emperor nicholas i, who was always for peace, and in particular for an understanding with england. the whole situation in europe has changed since those days, or rather seems to have changed. in reality it is not so. a few persons have made an effort to open their eyes, and have discovered a well-established fact. that is all. it is an important discovery, no doubt, so important that nervous politicians conjure up imaginary difficulties, and appeal to all sorts of magic utterances: "balance of power," cries one; "immediate danger," shouts the other; "traditional policy," exclaims the third. but all these appeals might as well not have been made. the "newly-discovered fact" has been known to russians for years, although clever westerns have only just found it out. it is indeed only natural that we should know it first, for it relates to our emperor. europe has learned to feel that there is once more an emperor nicholas on the russian throne, and that in alexander iii even the most imperious of chancellors found a sovereign whom no intimidation could dismay, and no menace could deter from the path of duty. some englishmen, i regret to say, did not like the memory of the emperor, whose noble and generous qualities are more and more appreciated in history. the emperor nicholas i was undoubtedly a superior man in many respects. imperious he was, no doubt--it is an imperial fault!--but he was not only disinterested, he was generous and noble in the highest degree. books could be written about his kind actions. he was once driving on a cold winter's day, when { } he perceived a poor hearse, and a still poorer coffin. there were no followers, but the young driver, almost a child, was sobbing bitterly, and evidently overwhelmed with his grief. the emperor stopped his horse and asked who the departed was. "it was my father," answered the boy, through a new torrent of tears. "he was a blind beggar, and i had him under my care." the emperor left his sledge and followed the humble coffin to the burial ground. naturally, many people followed his majesty's example, and the procession became a strange sight. strange, but fine--paternal, showing once more the link between the great autocrat and his people--a link based on devotion and trust. as a very young child i have myself experienced the kindness of his smile, and felt the protection of his powerful hand. if i may tell the story again, i remember, when my father died, the emperor nicholas i paid a visit of condolence to my mother, and desired to see his god-children. my two brothers and i appeared. i, as the only girl, received from my governess stringent orders before entering the drawing-room to "look well and to make a deep court _reverence_." penetrated with my new role, and full of zeal, i did my best--which, alas! turned out to be my very worst--i bowed so deeply that suddenly all became confused and i fell over backwards against a pillar. a horrified glance from mother--the roof with its painted flowers and cupids--misery and bewilderment! but all this lasted only a second. the dear emperor rushed to me, seized my trembling hands, and began praising me as if i had really covered { } myself, not with ridicule, but with glory. thus he cheered me and made me happy. people who knew him intimately speak of him with unqualified devotion. but the fascination he exercised did not render less commanding the conscious power which dwelt within him. for he was a power--perhaps the greatest power of his day. the great and unexpected steps taken by his grandson allowed us to hope to find the same resolute devotion to his country in our present ruler, nicholas ii, and we did not hope in vain. the emperor nicholas i was charmingly courteous and kind to young people. thus, one day, the court arrived in moscow, and the moscow nobility arranged a brilliant ball to greet their majesties. naturally the young girls all longed to be presented on this occasion. one amongst them was exceedingly beautiful and attractive. the emperor addressed a few words to her, expressing his pleasure at making her acquaintance. she looked at him somewhat severely, without answering a word. "do you not hear what i say?" enquired the emperor in some surprise. "yes," replied the young lady curtly, "i hear, but i do not listen!" (j'enténds mais je n'écoute pas!) the emperor, extremely amused by this tone of self-defence, when he never dreamt of attacking or offending, went to the empress. "there is a charming child here," he said, "most amusing and innocent. make her your maid of honour." this was done. by her position she was quite entitled to this distinction, but still, people were very much amused. later on she received other honours, { } occupied a high position at our court, and died only a short time ago. one of the great desires of the emperor nicholas i was to establish such a close and cordial alliance between russia and england as even then would form a solid guarantee of peace to the world. it was his desire to cement the alliance that led him to make those overtures to sir henry seymour, which were so basely misrepresented and so perfidiously utilised to destroy the good understanding they were intended to promote. "'you know my feelings?' so mr. kinglake begins the story, in his vivacious and charming but slightly unjust _the invasion of the crimea_, 'you know my feelings,' said the emperor to sir henry seymour, 'with regard to england. what i have told you before, i say again; it was intended that the two countries should be upon terms of close amity; and i feel sure that this will continue to be the case; and i repeat that it is very essential that the two governments should be on the best of terms, and the necessity was never greater than at present. when we are agreed, i am quite without anxiety as to the rest of europe. it is immaterial what the others may think or do.'" this is what the emperor nicholas always said, and it was with him a fixed idea. "i desire to speak to you," he said on another occasion, "as a friend and as a gentleman. [the emperor little knew how the confidence he placed in the "gentleman" would be requited.] if england and i arrive at an understanding in this matter it is indifferent what others do or think." { } in , during his visit to london, the emperor expressed a wish that, while he would do all in his power to keep the "sick man" (turkey) alive, we should keep the possible and eventual case of a collapse honestly and reasonably before our eyes. this is not the only reason why the memory of the emperor nicholas i is ever grateful to those who labour for the anglo-russian alliance. nor is it the only one why i recall these suggestive passages just now. some people invoke the prejudice of the past to poison the friendship of the future. let me take a more grateful course of recalling the repeated attempts of russia to arrive at a good understanding with england. there is a continuity about russian policy, and the principles laid down by the grandfather are followed by the grandson. it is important to remember that in the last century, austria and england, the friends of the porte, have taken more turkish territory for themselves than we, her hereditary foes. let us remember the following facts: the emperor nicholas i decided to concede to england all she wanted concerning egypt; and in return, so far from stipulating for the possession, at that time, of constantinople, he offered to make an engagement not to establish himself there as possessor, not even if circumstances compelled him to undertake a temporary occupation of the city. what then was the emperor's proposal? it was that of a friendly understanding, "as between gentlemen," that certain things should not be done in case of a sudden collapse of the ottoman empire. such were the earnest wishes of russia, but { } england remained deaf and prejudiced, suspicious and hostile. she preferred a bloody struggle to a hearty alliance, and a tremendous war was fought--thousands of innocent people killed, millions of money spent on both sides--and with no actual result. does anything remain of the famous treaty of paris? i remember having once asked prince gortschakoff whether it was he or count nesselrode who signed that treaty. the chancellor was ill, and thought he could not leave his chair, but my question electrified him. "no," he exclaimed, forgetting his illness and jumping to his feet, "i did not put my name to that document, but i spent a good part of my life in tearing it to pieces. and it is torn to pieces," he repeated, with a vivid, delighted look. in order to be on good terms with russia, england has merely not to interfere in russia's dealings with the slavs, her co-religionists; not demoralise the latter, not to support elements opposed to our church and our nationality. in fact, it is an easy, negative part she has to play. instead of this, in beaconsfield's days, she quarrelled like a nervous woman, and we acted, perhaps, like another nervous woman. now, however, is the day of strong men, both english and russian. nicholas i saw that it is of vital importance for the slavs, who are no traitors to their country, to cling to russia, because she is the only power that cares for their church and their nationality. the slavs incorporated with germany have been thoroughly germanised. austria is not so clever as her master, but she successfully introduces the { } roman catholic propaganda among the slavs; imprisons men like father naoumovitch for his devotion to the eastern church, and morally does almost more harm to the poor young nationalities than does turkey. i remember when i was quite a child, a young southern slav came to my mother and began complaining of their position. my mother interrupted him by asking, "would you prefer to belong to austria?" though a child, i was horrified to see the despair of his face. "oh," cried he, "austria is even worse than turkey. turkey kills the body--austria kills the soul." this is an opinion which, it may be said, is generally held amongst the southern slavs--and terribly verified in bulgaria at the present moment ( ). it is difficult for outsiders to judge slavonic troubles and slavonic needs. it is a private family affair, which ought to be left to us to settle. the slavs awoke england's sympathies only when it was thought they were the enemies of russia. alas! they had their pet name in england, and it was not complimentary. is it rational, i ventured to ask in the year , to awaken general indignation in a country like russia, which could be so useful as an ally? we have common enemies in asia. fancy the power represented by two great christian countries like russia and england, when they are united and friendly! is it really not worth having? time has given me my answer. people have been so kind as to say that i have been mainly responsible for the bringing together { } of england and russia, but whatever i have done i have merely been carrying on the ideal of the emperor nicholas i. kinglake wrote: "the emperor nicholas had laid down for himself a rule which was always to guide his conduct upon the eastern question; and it seems to be certain that at this time (the eve of the turkish war of ), even in his most angry moments, he intended to cling to his resolve. what he had determined was that no temptation should draw him into hostile conflict with england."[ ] [ ] _the invasion of the crimea_. sixth edition. it must be borne in mind that this is the testimony of an englishman, and one who cannot be accused of being pro-russian. it is interesting to recall the words addressed by the emperor nicholas i to the english ambassador at petrograd in . the emperor then said: "the affairs of turkey are in a very disorganised condition; the country itself seems to be falling to pieces; the fall will be a great misfortune, and it is very important that england and russia should come to a perfectly good understanding upon these affairs. we have on our hands a sick man, a very sick man. it will be, i tell you frankly, a great misfortune if one of these days he should slip away from us, especially before all necessary arrangements are made. if the turkish empire falls, it falls to rise no more; and i put it you, therefore, whether it is not better to be provided beforehand for a contingency, than to incur the chaos, confusion, and the certainty of an european war, all of which must attend the { } catastrophe if it should occur unexpectedly and before some ulterior system has been sketched." the sick man certainly has taken longer in dying than the emperor thought, but he certainly seems to be well on the way now. nicholas i was a statesman, one who has been described as bearing "the stamp of a generous and chivalrous nature." bismarck himself, in , expressed his admiration of the emperor's conduct in regard to hungary. he was always essentially upright and straightforward, and was in every sense of the term a strong man. writing of bismarck reminds me of a story i have heard which i do not remember to have seen in print. one of bismarck's most violent opponents thought to damage the chancellor's position by re-reading one of his own speeches made some years previously. in a loud determined voice the deputy read bismarck's words before the reichstag, no one listening to him with more attention than bismarck himself. when at last the deputy concluded, confident of his own triumph, bismarck exclaimed: "i should hardly have expected to hear such a prudent, useful speech, and some twenty years ago nothing could have been more appropriate. at this moment, of course, it is quite out of date and could not be acted upon." { } chapter vii "as others see us" "a russian agent"--"to lure british statesmen"--a charming tribute--the press at sea--wild stories--a musical political agitator--"an unofficial ambassador"--baron de staal's indifference--prince lobanoff's kindness--count shouvaloff's dislike of my work--prince gortschakoff and the slavs--baron brunow and the french ambassador--english sportsmanship--a shakespeare banquet how people talked about me in those days! asking each other who and what i was, what i was doing, or intended doing. "oh! madame novikoff," said some, "she is a russian agent," and their significant nods and glances conveyed all sorts of terrible things. i had come to england, some thought, to lure british statesmen to betray their country into russian hands. in short, quite a number of amiable things were said about poor, simple me, who tried so hard to say exactly the truth about what i well knew. in later years, sir ellis ashmead-bartlett at a public meeting paid a tribute to my work which i quote, not from vanity, but as an unexpected exaggeration. sir ellis said, "as for madame novikoff, it is simply impossible to estimate the services she has rendered her country. not all the diplomatic corps of the empire and all the grand dukes have done as much for russia as that lady, { } who since has directed the russian campaign in england with consummate ability. she has been worth more to russia than an army of , men. nothing that the tsar could bestow upon her could adequately repay her peerless services." but there was the other side of the picture. the london correspondent of a provincial paper described me as "one of the most masculine and accomplished women of her time--she has come to be looked upon as the czar's agent, as a sort of unofficial ambassador." imagine my being described as "masculine," a thing i execrate in women. i became too accustomed to the term "unofficial ambassador" to take any notice of it, but "masculine!" ugh! then, said another paper, "think of the women who have achieved a reputation in diplomacy--such women as madame de novikoff, princess lise troubetskoi, madame nubar pasha, princess metternich, and the late princess leopold croy. what other characteristic is common to them all? only this, that one and all they have been inveterate consumers of cigarettes, and each has availed herself with signal advantage of the opportunity afforded by toying with a fragrant papiletto to reflect before speaking, which women, as a rule, are said not always to do." [illustration: st. olga's school for girl teachers at novo-alexandrofka] alas for the common characteristic! i have never smoked in my life. but then i may be one of the women who do not "reflect before speaking." smoking is not so common a habit of russian ladies as is generally supposed. indeed, petrograd society was a little surprised some years ago when a british ambassadress, with kind intent, arranged at the { } embassy a smoking-room for ladies. even amongst men, smoking was not universal. my husband was not a smoker, nor was either of my two brothers. several russian gentlemen whom i know in london do not smoke. on another occasion the press informed me that i had selected america as my future home. "her mission," one paper grandly announced, "on behalf of russia has not of course been very popular.... what she has to do for russia in america the yankees will doubtless find out; at any rate she is backed by the russian fleet, which will soon be, if it is not already, in american waters." i need not say that this was pure imagination. the idea of a "secret agent" being "backed" by a fleet is, i think, new in international methods. i detest the word "mission" as applied to my work, which was as much in the interests of england as of russia, as can easily be seen to-day. where would europe be now if it were not for the russian armies, and where would the russian armies be but for the english navy? a woman with a mission is as objectionable as a man with a grievance. one provincial newspaper, in a burst of confidence, assured its readers that madame novikoff "does not suggest the political agitator, she is very fond of music, and some distinguished artist is generally to be found at her piano." i have often wondered what "a political agitator" would appear like to the writer of this paragraph, and why should he not be musical? was anything ever so bewildering? when i look over my press-cutting books i cannot do so { } without a smile. now it is all so amusing; but then it had in it an element of tragedy, for my work was nearer to my heart than anything else. _the pall mall gazette_, for instance, remarked that "mr. gladstone praises madame novikoff for her remarkable ability in handling political controversy. some of us think it would be more correct to do homage to her remarkable ability in handling political men." this was a tribute to me, in a way, at poor mr. gladstone's expense. another industrious young man wrote in , apropos my return to london, that my "thursdays" would be "again the rendezvous of the light, learning, and wit of london society. at least, this is how the friends of the russian lady describe her parties. but her detractors and enemies say they are merely a clever trap for attracting people from whom she may obtain information to dispatch to russia. a curious thing is that baron and baroness de staal, the russian ambassador and his wife, are often to be seen there, so that the legitimate and the illegitimate purveyors of news to russia meet on common ground." it is quite easy to see which view of my poor "thursdays" was taken by the writer of the above. neither baron nor baroness de staal were ever afraid to show me publicly their sympathy and support. monsieur de staal even went so far as to tell an english cabinet minister, who wished to verify one of my statements, that if madame novikoff said so, it was probably true, for she was often better informed than he of what the russian government was thinking of doing. "indeed," said the old { } ambassador, "they never tell me anything until they have definitely decided on doing it." i heard this from mr. stead, who had just returned from the foreign office, and looked somewhat bewildered by the compliment paid to me. we were both amused, since few ambassadors make such admissions. not less welcome than the frank admission of the russian ambassador was the approval of my efforts by our minister for foreign affairs himself, who, unlike count shouvaloff, about whom i still have a word to say, recognised the usefulness of my endeavours to foster friendly feelings between russia and england. it was with profound satisfaction indeed that i received the following letter from prince lobanoff-rostovsky: st. petersburg, _feb._/ _march_, . madame, i admire your courageous perseverance in dealing with messieurs les anglais, and i am very grateful for the assistance that you render us. accept my profound respects, lobanoff. it is such kindnesses which, in supporting and encouraging my efforts, have bribed me hitherto, and shall not fail to bribe me in the future. sometimes my own people showed themselves anything but understanding and sympathetic. as my thoughts wander through the pages of memory, many shadows from the past arise before me, and i { } think of how much good, and also how much harm, can be done by a man in a great public position. there are indeed many things in life that one must try to forget and forgive. i confess that, unfortunately, my ardent aspirations did not, in every case, meet with sympathy, even amongst my own relatives. i fully appreciated, for instance, the talents and honourable qualities of my brother-in-law, e. novikoff, and much admired his excellent and exhaustive work on john huss, the czech reformer and writer, who preceded luther by a whole century. this book, by the way, is now unfortunately out of print. but while i always remained a staunch slavophil, e. novikoff, after his appointment as ambassador to vienna, was obliged in his official capacity to obey the orders of the foreign office, and in so doing yielded so far to austrian views as to become indifferent, not to say hostile, to the slavonic cause. to me, personally, he invariably showed friendship, and invited me for a whole year to the russian embassy at vienna, a visit which i greatly enjoyed. but i always avoided all reference to the subjects that henceforth divided us. this was also the case in my relations with count shouvaloff, at one time our russian ambassador in london, who instead of helping me, constantly did me harm. he was polite and ceremonious in paying me visits, but he hated my work. i am surprised indeed that he did not succeed in paralysing my efforts altogether. it is useful sometimes to be tough and obstinate! in the light of this fact there was something { } almost comical in the comment of one journal which said: "madame novikoff is a russian agent in close relations with count shouvaloff, and she is the sister of general kiréeff and sister-in-law of the russian ambassador at vienna. this is the person with whom our ex-premier was admittedly in close alliance, public and private, during the recent atrocity agitation. but when the climax of the pro-russian agitation was reached, and its managers believed the overthrow of lord beaconsfield to be imminent, mr. gladstone, at the close of the st. james's hall 'conference,' left his seat, went up to madame novikoff, offered her his arm, and led her triumphantly through the bewildered crowd, in order to give them an earnest of the anti-turkish alliance at last concluded between england and russia, and thereby publicly acknowledged that his relations with that lady belong to the province of public life, and ought to be treated as matters of public concern. that also, we have no doubt, will be the opinion of the country when the nature of these relations has been more explicitly revealed." there was one man who occupied a powerful position in russia and, as i have said, was well known in the world, and who boasted that though he never signed the paris treaty, he did all in his power to abolish the consequences of that detestable document. i mean the chancellor of russia, the prince gortschakoff. my last interview with him was not altogether pleasant: with one hand he gave "his praise," with the other "his blame." (his right hand really did { } not know what his left was doing!) but here are a few facts, now known in russia, but unknown in england. i think i have said that for several years i carefully concealed my literary identity. in russia it was known to katkoff, the editor of the _moscow gazette_, in england chiefly to stead, my english editor, and to mr. gladstone, who was my energetic political confidant. for that purpose i used my maiden initials "o.k." (olga kiréeff). on my return home from england i received a note from the chancellor asking me to call on him "as he was too ill to make calls." by the by, i must say that in russia it is quite customary, even for a very young woman, to call on business, either at a cabinet minister's office or on an ambassador at his embassy. in both cases the office and the embassy take the place of the absent wives, and such visits are fully understood. still, people make some jokes about wives being thus replaced. but let me return to my unpleasant interview. the prince received me, as usual, very cordially, flattering and complimenting me, but after which he said: "but, dear madame novikoff, i must insist upon one point and draw your serious attention to something very important. you really must not mention the word 'slav.' europe hates that word, and russia must ignore it." "but russians are slavs, every schoolboy must know that," i exclaimed. "of course, of course," admitted the old chancellor, "but europe hates that word. it is the red rag thrown to an infuriated bull," etc. etc. { } if i indulged in fainting fits i really think that such friendly advice would have made me sink to the floor, but that is not in my line. still, i protested. "but, prince," said i, "you forget that my brother died for the slavs, that i, in memory of that death, am working for that cause, that mr. gladstone, in his review of my book, _russia and england_, distinctly recommended every englishman to read it, and that he himself wrote a pamphlet on the bulgarian horrors. your advice to a russian, who naturally is a slav, means--give up your nationality, forget it. no, that i cannot do, for that would be suicide." i think my vehement indignation amused the old chancellor, and he said: "well, well, but do you know that people actually think that you are my agent?" "it only shows," i said, "how important people's opinions sometimes are. let them know that i am my own agent and nobody else's." he smiled, i smiled, and we parted--never to meet again. of course, we must remember that officials come and go and have to execute orders, which sometimes vary and contradict each other. but you can obstinately, perseveringly, year after year and day after day--work, in accordance with your patriotic duty, only when you are guided by your own deep, independent conviction and ideal! why did the emperor nicholas save austria in ; alienating himself from the brave hungarian people, who during a whole century heroically fought to liberate themselves from austrian despotism? { } there is a story about another of our diplomatists, baron brunow, which although it has been told before, is so characteristic of brunow that it will, i think, bear re-telling. on arriving in london for the first time i was pleased to receive an invitation to the russian embassy, because baron brunow knew my mother personally, and also because i had heard the following anecdote about him which had greatly amused me: queen victoria, deeply grieved by the death of the duke of wellington, had expressed her wish that the funeral of the "iron duke," as he was called, should be as splendid as possible. the whole of the corps diplomatique was requested to attend the ceremony. all the diplomatists unhesitatingly accepted the royal invitation--with one exception, that of the french ambassador. the latter, in a state of great perplexity and indecision, hurried to the doyen of "the diplomatic" world, baron brunow. "i am in a very disagreeable position," he said, "i am indeed quite at a loss what to do. how shall i escape from my dilemma? of course, one does not like to disobey her majesty's wishes--almost her orders; but one must nevertheless consider before all else one's duty to one's country, one's national dignity!" unlike a frenchman, the visitor seemed particularly agitated and nervous. "but what is the matter?" exclaimed the baron. "i have received no communication about your difficulty. none of my secretaries has informed me of anything unusual. what is the matter?" repeated the old baron somewhat impatiently. { } "don't you understand?" exclaimed the other. "the queen desires every diplomatist to attend wellington's funeral. from her point of view she is quite right. but i, as a frenchman, can never forget the terrible harm done by the duke to the country i represent." "oh!" exclaimed the russian in smiling surprise. "you dislike the idea of attending the state funeral? i confess that i also hardly like the idea of the fatigue it involves. but then, you are much younger and stronger than i. of course, if you were asked to attend wellington's resurrection, perhaps i should say 'don't go'--but his funeral, which represents the end of all possible mischief to your country, i can only say, 'go and attend it by all means with great satisfaction!'" i have never been able to find out from the various books i have consulted relating to those times, whether or not the frenchman followed brunow's advice! although i have never hesitated to speak my mind, english people--individually that is--have always seemed to understand me, and my sincerity has never been allowed either to interfere with my personal friendships, or hinder societies and committees paying the compliment of asking me to their gatherings. in england they love a fighter, provided he fight fair, and i think i have always done that. imagine germany, for instance, paying tributes to the commander of an english _emden_, which had [done enormous damage to her shipping! yet in england almost as much praise was bestowed upon this german naval officer as in the fatherland. { } why was this? because he had played the game! i have received many and unexpected invitations to be present at public dinners and banquets. when i received a "card" from the committee of the shakespeare society for their banquet, i could not help wondering how anyone could find something new to say on a subject so well-worn during the last years! imagine, then, my astonishment, my horror, when i found on the programme my own name with the announcement that i was responding to the toast addressed to foreign guests. my first impulse was to fly; but such cowardice not being in my nature, i took my courage in my hands, and at the given moment pronounced these few words, as if it were quite a natural thing for me to make speeches: "kind audience,--i am flattered by your amiable invitation, to which, as a foreigner, i have hardly any right. but let me tell you that i have a little friend who renders me invaluable services. i mean my little watch bracelet, that makes me think of time and space. i shall not trouble you for more than five or six minutes; for though i feel myself to be a veritable demosthenes, i resemble him only as he was before his famous pebble cure! you know that at the time he hesitated, stammered, and stuttered. therefore, five minutes of eloquence on these conditions is all i dare inflict on your patience. "i will begin by saying that one of the best translations of your great writer was made by the grand duke constantine, who died a few months ago. this charming grand duke had, in addition, { } a considerable histrionic talent, and his 'hamlet' represented by himself at the palace of their majesties in petrograd, achieved an immense success. "but there is still something else that i shall take the liberty to say about shakespeare. in our day there is much talk of enemies, alliances, friendly treaties, etc. nothing can be more apropos at this moment. but shakespeare has done something that surpasses all ententes, alliances, and treaties between countries large and small. shakespeare has become the eternal link by which all parts of the civilised, thinking, reading world are indissolubly united. this is a unique part created by an englishman. "as a last word. i can only say, ladies and gentlemen, you have every reason to be proud of this acknowledged fact." upon this i bowed and resumed my place. my little speech was received most kindly. there could not have been a better reward for my laconism. { } chapter viii jewish russophobia the jews and the war--their attitude in --their hatred of slavism--the problems of other countries--english sympathy--the guildhall meeting--the russian government blamed--tolstoy and the jews--my jewish friends--a curious tradition--self-protection in many respects the jewish question in russia has now become an anachronism. i am happy to say that a new argument in favour of the jews is the part played by many of them in our ranks during the present struggle against the central empires. their present attitude has effaced the great hatred they used to manifest against everything russian. but a survey of my work for anglo-russian friendship would be incomplete and would not be honest if it passed over my attitude on this question, and especially as the attacks made upon me have been very vigorous and have forced me to retort in what was, for me, an almost single-handed struggle. my first public expression of views upon the jewish question was in , when i addressed two letters to _the times_ in which i protested against the accusations levelled against the russian government that it encouraged the social war against the jews in the southern provinces. i pointed out that { } the origin of the disturbances was economic rather than religious. i said then, as i shall always say, that the worst charges brought against the jews could not by any form of special pleading be held to justify outrage and murder. i reminded the jews that when thousands of harmless peasants, men, women and children, were being ruthlessly slaughtered in bulgaria, they ranged themselves beside those responsible for the massacres, the turks. the next worst thing to committing a murder is to look calmly on and sympathise with another who is taking life. that is what the hebrews did in . at least they should be logical, and if they do not like the application of "the law," which demands "an eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth," they should have acted differently in . when mr. gladstone and his friends were fighting what seemed to be a losing battle, the jews were against them. it was a jew, disraeli, who was the arch-plotter against the freeing of bulgaria, and with a few exceptions his race was with him. the jews hated slavism, and the slavs could not be expected to retort with soft words of brotherly love. in spite of this, i repeat that the peasant riots against the jews in some provinces deserved blame; but the actions of mobs are never based upon religious principles or religious teaching. in england, russia's jewish problem is not understood. i wrote in , and the same applies now: "it may be wrong to dislike the jews, but if two and a half million chinese were monopolising all the best things in southern england, and were multiplying even more rapidly than the natives of { } the soil, perhaps the cry 'england for the english' would not be so unpopular as some of our censors seem to think." the feeling against the japanese in certain parts of america is, i believe, every whit as bitter as the feeling against the jews in russia. i have always been puzzled why the englishman cannot see this. the jew is the cuckoo of russia; he is forcing the aborigines out of their own nest, and russians not unnaturally say: "our own government helps him to do it, therefore it is time we helped ourselves." people are prone to hasty judgment. in _the times_, on the occasion to which i have referred above, i wrote: "the landlordism of which your irish farmers complain is but a pale shadow of the cruel servitude enforced on our peasants by the jews. the disorders both in ukraine and in ireland are social and agrarian." eight years later the jewish question in russia once more seemed to catch hold of the english imagination, and with increased violence. a flaming up of russian violence against the jews in the south-western provinces of russia was the cause. in london christian sympathy was invoked, and the heads of the church, nobility and members of parliament besought the lord mayor to convene a meeting of protest with the object of preparing a memorial to be sent to the tsar "to give public expression of opinion respecting the renewed persecutions to which millions of the jewish race are subjected in russia, under the yoke of severe and exceptional edicts and disabilities." { } i immediately wrote to _the times_ pointing out that before englishmen began to look abroad for things to reform, they might well put their own house in order. i called attention to general booth's recently published book, _in darkest england_, which i had read with something akin to horror. i wonder what would have been said in england if meetings of protest against the horrors of london had been held in petrograd! in my indignation i even ventured to assume the mantle of prophecy. "while your meeting," i wrote, "will have no effect whatever upon russians, it will have a great effect upon the jews of russia. it will proclaim aloud, in the hearing of these millions, that england and its great lord mayor, with all the wealth of london at their back, have undertaken the cause of the russian jews. and these poor people will believe it, and thousands and tens of thousands will sell all they have and come over to experience the first fruits of the generosity which promises them a new land of canaan--in the city of london. "i adjourn the further discussion of the jewish question until you have had, let us say, ten per cent of the immigration which these meetings will invite." in a little more than the ten years i mentioned the aliens act had become law! the guildhall meeting was held on december th, , and the memorial to the russian emperor was carried without a dissentient voice and duly sent to petrograd. in february the russian ambassador handed the memorial to lord salisbury { } with a request that he would have the kindness to return it to the lord mayor unanswered; as a matter of fact it had not even been read in russia. i need scarcely add that i was assailed by jews from every quarter as "one whom the whole jewish race recognised as their bitterest enemy," and yet all i said in effect was that if the montagues hate the capulets, and the capulets the montagues, then all the acts of parliament will not ensure peace. and yet we women are called unreasonable. i will quote again from one of my letters to _the times_, for although written thirty-four years ago, i see no reason to change so much as a word. "the jewish question is not entirely religious, but social. englishmen ought to understand it, for they have to deal very often with the same difficulties. an anglo-indian member of parliament, of great eminence as an administrator in bengal, was kind enough to lend me the other day an interesting blue book on the riots in the deccan, from which i learn that the most innocent agriculturists in india have repeatedly attacked the hindoo money-lenders, exactly as our peasants attacked the jews, and for the same reason. and how did you deal with this difficulty? not by increasing the licence, but by restricting the opportunities of the hindoo money-lenders; and as you do it with some success, your example can be useful indeed. in short, you do as general ignatieff proposed to do in his famous rescript which you abuse so much. seek to remove the cause of the disorder by protecting the peasants against the extortionate practices of the village usurers." { } in those days i was not lazy and wrote as well as i could; but how difficult people were to convince. they seemed unable to distinguish between a yiddish-speaking jew, who had been domiciled in russia, and a true russian, and nothing can be more insulting to a russian than this. the yiddish jargon is not used by men of the russian race, who have at their command so rich, so musical, so melodious a language as that which pouschkin, tourguenieff, and tolstoy found an adequate instrument for the expression of their genius. a yiddish-speaking man may be a russian subject, but he is no more a real russian on that account than a hottentot, being a british subject, is a real englishman. although we russians may be as bad as some people describe us, we have at least one virtue which is not always recognised: we do our utmost to prevent murderers, thieves, and burglars, and other criminals crossing the frontier. no russian subject is allowed to leave russia without a passport, which is never granted to any known criminal. if any such criminals evade our vigilance, our police are only too anxious to inform your police and solicit their co-operation in the arrest of the fugitive. but such offenders have only to allege that they are political refugees, to be welcomed in england and protected by the authorities. in england murder used to be regarded as no murder when the victim was a russian policeman. but when the same criminals kill an english policeman, as they did in the sydney street affair, the matter is not seen in quite the same light. try to put yourself in our place. what would you { } think if "peter the painter" had been welcomed in petrograd, and if our government had refused to give him up because he had only killed an english policeman, and was therefore entitled to the right of asylum as a political refugee? of course, such a crime against civilisation is unthinkable on the part of the russian government, but it would represent only too faithfully the position which england has been proud to maintain before the world. at the time of the sydney street outrage i asked: "what i want to know is whether, now that you are suffering a very, very small part of the misery which these murderers have inflicted on us, you are willing to co-operate with the police of the world in extirpating this gang of ruthless murderers? if you are, you will find ready co-operation on our side; if you are not, then, i fear, the world will say that you care nothing for murder so long as it is only russian police, generals, or ministers who are murdered, and you will remain in the future, as in the past, the refuge and the shelter of the assassins of the world." truth compels me to admit that there are blindfolded people in russia as well as abroad, and it is not only amongst the foreigners that the real nature of the russian nation has been sometimes misunderstood. unfortunately there are prejudiced people amongst ourselves who insist upon being blind and unable to see obvious facts, and the meaning of the war of has been entirely misunderstood. let us, for instance, quote count leon tolstoy, who had very peculiar ideas about war. can anybody, not only in russia but even abroad, doubt his { } talent? but nevertheless he proved how easy it is to err in politics even in spite of literary gifts. i must quote a letter published abroad under the pompous title, _a protest_, signed by count leon tolstoy and russian "celebrities." this document had to be presented to the emperor--for his enlightenment. this document, however, never went so far. this event should never have been taken _au sérieux_ anywhere, though stated by a talented author. nothing amuses russians more than to see how gravely "tolstoy's philosophy and theology" is taken abroad. amongst us he is only great as a novelist. you may, no doubt, find among the russians, as well as abroad, enthusiasts ready to embrace any craze. fortunately they have no lasting moral weight. the jewish question in russia is a very difficult problem indeed. we have in russia millions of jews belonging to an anti-christian creed, and those who imagine it is sufficient for our emperor "to write a few lines ordering the country at large to love the talmudist jew," and who fail to see the difference between the latter and the greek orthodox russian, forget that even jesus christ's law to love our enemy is often neglected by those who pride themselves on being his followers. i insist upon the term "talmudist jews." the karaite jews having joined russia in the greater part of her national aims and duties, deservedly obtained the same privileges and rights as the rest of the people. the talmudists, unfortunately, take a different ground, and sometimes have to suffer for it. { } at the time of the guildhall meeting _the daily news_, with perfect fair play, allowed a correspondent to state the facts "within their own knowledge." one of them had shortly before visited the russian southern provinces. here are his very words: "the jewish population of odessa alone numbers about , souls. nearly the whole of the vast commerce is in the hands of the jews. they own a large share of the _immovable_ property in the city. of the very few and unimportant industries over which they do not command an absolute monopoly, there is scarcely one which is not virtually controlled by the ramifications exercised _by their secret commercial syndicates_." n.b.--the municipal council of members always includes jews, or one-third of that civil and constituent body, and in material power the jewish section of the council outweighs the rest. the author also admits that "if there were no limitations at all, the jewish elements at the university would exclude all the russians." the same paper, allowing also another witness to be truthful and accurate, admits the following account from petrograd itself. after complaining bitterly of the difficulty of getting from the jews themselves any instance of oppression, he expressed his surprise that: "in the english community, chiefly interested in commerce, sympathy with the jews has been difficult to find. amongst the germans and french," he goes on to say, "the same dislike of the jews is found." the anglo-saxon race has shown to the world how careful it can be in defending its interests on { } the least appearance of danger from without. the innocent children of the celestial empire have been simply hunted out of america and australia, although these poor timid creatures never dreamed of establishing an _imperium in imperio_ which can be dangerous to the state, nor even asked for any political rights at all, their only ambition being to live in peace and to work for their rice and their rats. the russian government, though not hampered by the ignorant prejudices of the masses, is obliged nevertheless to acquaint itself with public feeling, and to do its best to paralyse mischievous outbursts from whatever source. thus in protecting the russians from the jews, our government is, in fact, in accord with the parliamentary spirit of the age in its support of the protesting majority against an aggressive minority. england, of all the world, should be the last to blame those efforts. it must not be thought that i am anti-jewish as far as individuals are concerned. i have had very friendly relations with many jews, including auerbach, mr. george montofiore and dr. max nordau, to quote only a few names. the last-named dedicated to me his play _the right to love_, after the guildhall fiasco. perhaps the most curious thing was that whereas i was attacked by jews and vilified without mercy, my friends in russia were angry with my "judophilism." just before last leaving for russia, i was startled by the contents of a letter which appeared in london. the jewish author of that curious document is fortunately personally unknown to me. he actually has the impudence to say that "in russia a foreigner of { } the hebrew persuasion can easily find means and ways--_generally for the sum of fifty roubles_--to be transformed _ad hoc_ into a true believer, into a christian of any denomination of his own choice." to me that phrase is a regular riddle. thank god! i do not know people who for fifty roubles, or no matter for how many roubles, may change their political or even religious creed. being a convinced christian myself, i can only be glad when i hear of somebody who has appreciated the greek orthodox views enough to adopt them. our church prays daily for such unions, and i cannot understand why i should doubt the good faith of such proselytes. has not jesus christ himself ordered to propagate his teaching, and counselled us to love our enemies? i do not see why we should wound their feelings by doubting their good faith. a hebrew or a mohammedan, after the establishment of a new moral link with us christians, ought to be treated as a brother and an ally. even without that christian union a very great gulf exists in russia between the "talmudist jews" and the "karaims" (in england called "karaites"). the latter are treated with confidence and respect, and their dealings are characterised by integrity and love for russia--two qualities which are not by any means the predominant characteristics of the talmudists. all this can be easily proved. a curious tradition seems, in the eyes of some russians, to account for that great difference between people of the same race. the ancestors of the "karaims" are said to have left the holy land much before the beginning of our era, escaping thus the blame of { } having taken any part in the crucifixion of jesus christ--hence their moral superiority! in protecting our country from obnoxious proselytism--be it religious or political--we defend in reality that great unity; which naturally has to be in accordance with our church. but our church, as such, does not interfere with the temporal power. her only weapon is the exclusion from her bosom of those who depart from her teaching and her practice. { } chapter ix england and the great famine in russia my russian home--the horrors of famine--the peasants' heroism--starving yet patient--the society of friends--i am invited to meeting--magnificent munificence--among the starving--terrible hardships--some illustrations--the stoical russian--cinder bread the tamboff steppes have a great fascination for me. i was always very happy at novo alexandrofka, our country home. it possesses the beautiful church built by my son. then i have there my two other attractions, the two splendid schools, each capable of accommodating over one hundred pupils, that for boys being called st. john's, after my husband's patron saint; and the girls' school, of which i am directress, is called st. olga's. my son and i were always ardent believers in the importance of education, for in it lies the whole of the world. good teachers are necessary above all, and bad schools do more harm by their existence than no schools at all, and there is nothing more wonderful or beautiful in russia than to see the passionate eagerness of the peasants to have their children educated. i am happy to say that, thanks to our excellent teachers and the principal director, a very superior priest of our church, all our examinations have resulted in very fruitful success. { } at novo alexandrofka, my husband, my mother, my brother, alexander kiréeff, my son (the founder of the church) alexander novikoff--are already in the family vault. the last addition will be myself, and then the vault shall be definitely closed. some ten years ago when i was present at the final examination of the girls, no less than nineteen fulfilled the requirements of the tamboff education committee, and were all qualified to become school-teachers. since then we have had only excellent results of our schools. the most unhappy time i ever spent at my home was during the terrible famine in russia in . i could not remain in england while my country was suffering so. i felt that my place was at tamboff, and i accordingly left a land of plenty for poor, desolate russia. i remember only too vividly those terrible days of famine. at one time my son alexander had under his charge no less than , men, women and children, all depending upon him to find them food. i call to mind one terrible day that brought from alexander this tragic telegram: "funds exhausted, send me something, position indescribable." it was terrible, tragic. all the work done by the relief committees was voluntary. the grand duchess constantine fed people a day. even in those days we strove to guard against reckless charitable effort, which can only have a demoralising influence. i call to mind one person who insisted on his name being unknown, offered my son roubles to be spent in providing food { } for the inhabitants of a certain village on the condition that the amount were regarded only as a loan, which should be repaid and subsequently spent on that same village for educational purposes. this donor was doubly a donor by the proviso he made. it was a tragedy to see splendid men in the prime of their lives, walking about with stony faces and hollow eyes. with them were women clothed only in wretched rags, and little children shivering in the cold wind. they would crowd round the relief parties, which drove about in sledges, holding out their hands saying: "we have sold our last horses, cows and sheep, we have pawned all our winter clothing; we have nothing left to sell. we eat but once a day, stewed cabbage and stewed pumpkin, and many of us have not eaten that." this was true. there were some among them who had not tasted food for days. it was agonising to hear these poor people pleading to us for mercy lest they die of starvation. as they spoke in dull voices, tears would spring up into the eyes of strong men and course slowly down their cheeks into their rough beards; but there were no complaints, no cries, just the slow, monotonous chant, broken by the sobs of worn-out mothers and the cries of hungry children. we had neither wood nor coal, only straw and the refuse of stables, for fuel. the volga was frozen, and in some provinces corn was absolutely unprocurable. [illustration: my son. alexander novikoff] in that great calamity the help given by the english society of friends was very remarkable. { } after some preliminary enquiry, i was invited to attend a committee meeting. there were, i think, between twenty and thirty present, and i was the only woman. a series of questions was addressed to me about the state of things in russia. i exaggerated nothing. i concealed nothing. i told them that an unforeseen blow had befallen sixteen of our provinces and found us unprepared to combat its effects. my son, alexander novikoff, was just organising a committee in the district of kazloff (tamboff province), and, thanks to him, i knew the question fairly well. "the friends" listened attentively, but said very little. mr. braithwaite, the chairman, only expressed a hope that "god will help our efforts." nothing more: but without losing a day they went to work, and worked splendidly. they not only collected about £ , , but sent their delegates--mr. edmond brookes and mr. william fox--to distribute their help on the spot amongst the famine-stricken peasantry. do you know one of the results of such practical application of sympathy? it is now generally admitted in my country that unofficial englishmen are "kind and generous," and, when left to their own true nature, are capable of being friends deserving trust and confidence. i also received, quite unsolicited, liberal subscriptions from friends in the city, which enabled me to send without delay much needed relief to the starving peasants in my district of tamboff. the "english bread," as they called it, is remembered and spoken of even now. perhaps the best description of that terrible { } famine, and of the efforts to relieve it, is that recorded in an interview with me by the representative of _the week's news_, which i therefore transcribe, the more so because that enterprising journal sent out a special commission to our famine districts to report upon the situation there. here is the interview: "novo alexandrofka, " _th february_, . "a beautiful night drive across the snow from bogojawlensky brought me to madame olga novikoff's estate during wednesday night. the thermometer stood at degs. fahrenheit below freezing point, yet the air was so calm that the cold was scarcely noticeable. a heavy hoar frost covered the trees, and the slight mist gave a weird aspect to the desert of snow that stretched away on every side. without a house on the horizon to direct him, the _jamschick_ drove out into the night, and the sledge glided along over the crackling snow. "mr. alexander novikoff, the son of madame olga novikoff, was at novo alexandrofka to welcome me, and put me in a position to judge of the state of things in his district of the tambov government. he is zemski natchalnick, and very popular amongst the peasants whose little differences he has to judge. "in the early morning we started off to visit the hospital in the village of tooriévo. after all that has been said of the condition of russian hospitals at this moment i was agreeably surprised, both at the cleanliness and the absence of patients whose { } illnesses might be directly attributed to the famine. i, however, found there the first case of hunger typhus that i have seen, and learned from the surgeon, dr. malof, that in one village close at hand there were no fewer than similar cases. "this is one of the strongest proofs of the hardships through which the people are now passing. it is the disease that always follows in the wake of war and famine, and although the mortality amongst those seized is relatively small, the fact that numerous cases are occurring is significant. they arise from stomach disorders, brought on by insufficient and bad food, and the disease then takes the course of ordinary typhus. "tooriévo is a long straggling village, and contains about huts. the harvest in the neighbourhood was fairly good, and the population will probably weather the storm. another large village in the district, céslavino, with its inhabitants, is suffering intensely, the majority of the inhabitants being in receipt of relief. i found a particularly bad state of things in the village of spasskoe. amongst the inhabitants there were but three huts in which there was sufficient corn to keep the occupants till the next harvest. most of the families are already receiving help from the government, and the private committee presided over by m. novikoff. "i will mention but few cases in this village where the monotony of misery is so apparent in the deserted street and the dilapidated huts. this is the only village i have visited in this neighbourhood where the uniformity of distress compares { } with the village in the south of tambov that i described last week. "paul axenoff is the head of a family of nine, comprised of two old people, axenoff and his wife, and five children. they were receiving aid from both the authorities and the committee, but they had run through everything except three pounds of bread that was to last them for some weeks to come. the same thing happened to them last month, and in spite of all their efforts to secure food they ate nothing for three days prior to the last delivery of the month's flour. "the horse and cow have both been sold, and the outhouses pulled down and used for fuel. straw is usually employed in russia for heating, but this year there is none, so the peasants are glad to find anything to burn. there is very little wood in this part of the country, and what there is is young, and has evidently been planted by the landowners. with the exception of a sheepskin cloak worn by one of the boys who came in from school while i was in the hut, the members of axenoff's family had nothing to wear but the rags in which they stood. "in this hut i discovered a fresh article of food--a soup made of hot water and weeds. they didn't eat it for the good it might do them, but simply for the sake of having something hot. at another hut in this village i found a similar concoction made with boiling water and chopped-up hay. "all the bread i found in the next hovel was broken, and had been begged from house to house. the occupants had burnt the wood, straw, and outhouses they had at the beginning of the winter, and { } were now pulling the straw from the roof over their heads to keep the hut warm. "although this was a new-fashioned hut, that is, one with a chimney, the occupants had stopped this up to prevent the fire burning too quickly, and to keep the heat in. this caused the suffocating smoke and tar-like odour that is found in the chimneyless huts. "on leaving this place we struggled through the snow to visit another house from which the roof had been torn, and which was almost embedded in the quantity of snow that the gale of the previous night had whirled round it. the mayor of the village, who accompanied me, told me that the family of five persons included a dying woman, and two children down with scarlatina. "with some difficulty we struggled through the four or five feet of snow that barricaded the door, and on getting it open we found the outer part of the hut half filled with snow that had been driven through the unthatched roof. we had some trouble to open the door leading to the inner room, and when this was done the mayor seemed surprised to find that the place was tenantless. "he enquired amongst the neighbours what had become of nicolas semine and his dying wife. nobody knew, and all were lost in surmise as to what might have happened had they been driven forth by the storm of the previous night. we continued the tour, and half an hour later i came upon a scene the like of which i hope never to see again. "eight or ten persons were crowded into a hovel { } not more than ten feet square. an unconscious woman had been leaned against the brick stove to keep her warm in the stifling atmosphere. on the ground several dirty and ragged children were playing around two suffering creatures, whose arms and faces were masses of sores. i had already taken in these details when my guide told me this was semine's dying wife and scarlatina-stricken children, that a man he pointed out was semine himself, and that the ten-year-old boy lying on the stove was his eldest child. "i was not able to understand how the father and this boy brought the dying, and now unconscious, woman and the two children through the storm of the previous night. i had myself had an experience of the blinding violence of clouds of snow blown across the plains by a hurricane. "the story of the refugees is a very sad one; i will tell it just as it was told me. between the time the harvest failed and the time the authorities commenced to aid the family, they had been obliged to sell everything they possessed to get food, and to pull down the outbuildings for firing purposes. the wife had been ill since autumn, and to keep the place warm they had been obliged to burn first the table, then the benches, then the old clothes, and last of all, to pull the straw from the roof and burn it. "yesterday they had nothing. no food, no firing, and the wind drove the snow through the unthatched house. to have stayed was certain death, so they wandered out into the night and were taken into the house where i saw them on condition that they consented to the four walls of their hut being { } pulled down and used to heat the hovel in which they had taken refuge. they brought no food with them, and the family of four persons which has taken them in had just five pounds of bread to last till the end of february. "in the hut occupied by timothy metchariakof i was shown some _lebeda_ flour which the peasants often mix with rye or maize flour thinking that it gives nourishment to the bread. the fact that there are quantities of _lebeda_ this winter is another sign of famine. whenever the crops fail the weed from which the grains of _lebeda_ are thrashed is found in abundance. "in spite of what the peasants say about the satisfying properties of these seeds, the doctors consider the flour made from them most injurious to the health. all sorts of stomach complaints can be traced to the consumption of bread of which it is an ingredient. "the bread was very black everywhere, but as long as this blackness resulted from the use of rye flour it was not unhealthy, and the bread although rather bitter was not uneatable. in many houses, however, the people had mixed anything that came to hand with the flour served out to them, and the bread consequently suffered. "i tasted some this morning in which cinders or grit was undoubtedly one of the ingredients. it is also generally very badly baked, and if the authorities can improve on the official bakers i have seen, there should certainly be a public bakery in each village, as many of the sufferers have not sufficient fire in their stoves properly to cook anything. { } disease will go on increasing even more rapidly than famine if this unhealthy food is eaten by the peasants. "i visited a great many of the families in this village so as to be satisfied that i was not basing my judgment of the distress on exceptional cases. the misery i found was very widespread, and actual starvation is only avoided by the aid of the zemstvo and m. novikoff's committee. if these aids were stopped for a week, nine-tenths of the village would be starving. "from spasskoe i drove across to the little village of dolguinko, where i found a part of the population living in holes dug in the earth. towards the end of last autumn, one half of the village was burned to the ground. the work of rebuilding had scarcely commenced when winter set in, and those peasants who were not able to lay beams and branches over their partially-built huts and thus make a roof, dug holes in the ground in which they are now living with their families. "to reach these burrows it was necessary to follow a long passage cut in the snow, at the end of which was a hole through which the visitor was supposed to let himself, legs first, and then steady his descent by catching at the snow till he felt the ground beneath his feet. i did all this, and am not certain whether i was not more astonished at my safe arrival than the occupants of the hole were to see me. "beyond the difficulties of entrance and exit the hole is no darker than an ordinary hut. but a more horribly insanitary place of abode for human { } beings it would be hard to find. as could only be expected, it was very damp, and the occupants were condemned to stand and sit in several inches of mud, and to support the drippings of the snow melted by the heat of their fire. however they manage to live with insufficient nutriment amid such surroundings i cannot imagine. the man in one of these burrows that i visited was making wooden boots, for which he could earn a penny a pair. if he worked very hard he could make two pairs a day. "on returning to novo alexandrofka, i looked over the books of the district of which these villages form part. it comprises twenty-five villages, with a total of , inhabitants. how many of these are relieved by the authorities cannot be said, but m. novikoff's committee has supplemented the efforts of the government by feeding , persons during the month of january. each one of these , persons was the recipient of twenty-five pounds of flour. "according to the inventories made of the possessions of every inhabitant of the district, the number of destitute, unprovided for by government relief, will increase by more than a month, and will reach , by june. the committee has already distributed , pounds of flour since its institution. as many britons have aided this work by funds sent to madame olga novikoff, it will interest them to know what is doing. "in the village of novo alexandrofka no one is in receipt of relief. thanks to m. novikoff, who has endowed it with elementary, secondary, and adult { } schools, it is a particularly happy village, and counts teetotalers in a population of persons. "before leaving the tambov government, i may say that although in certain villages the want is appalling, and is rendered more palpable by the condition in which the inhabitants live, i do not anticipate an overwhelming disaster in this province. it is well served by railway lines, though the companies have little rolling stock, and grain can be easily conveyed to these central governments if it is in the country, and has been brought to some available spot before the thaw." on a second occasion, when the present war charities began to press for support, the same kind friends in the city and elsewhere, who had helped during the russian famine, again came forward and collected for me a handsome sum. part of this money i had the satisfaction of distributing to russian, british and serbian red cross funds. a part also ( roubles) was sent as a christmas present to the wounded soldiers in h.i.m.'s hospital at petrograd, in gracious acknowledgment of which i received the following telegram from the empress marie: "am greatly touched by your letter and your generous gift, for which i wish you to express to all those who have contributed my warmest thanks. marie." from the princess helène (daughter of the king of serbia), to whom i had also sent a small sum, came the following telegram: { } "best thanks for your generous gift--profoundly touched--affectionate greeting." and from monseigneur cyril, bishop of tamboff, came his acknowledgment of my remittance: "generous gift received--great joy--many thanks and blessings." the grand duchess elizabeth, who is at the head of so many charitable institutions in moscow, and takes such an active interest in good work there, also very kindly acknowledged the small sum sent to her. all these remittances were kindly telegraphed for me by monsieur de helpert, the obliging director of the russian bank for foreign trade. amongst other remittances to petrograd was one of £ to lady sybil grey, who was at the head of a red cross branch there, and respecting the safe transmission of which i had consulted her father, earl grey, who replied to me with the necessary advice, and concluded his letter with very warm acknowledgments of the kind and hearty reception his daughter had met with in petrograd. later on i had the additional satisfaction of raising a further sum for war charities by the raffle of a diamond ornament, for which purpose my friend, lady primrose, lent me her house as well as her valuable personal aid. the above are a few illustrations, among others that might be added, of the british warm-heartedness and generosity that never fails in time of need. { } chapter x musical memories my mother--her musical friends--i study with masset--his generous offer--litolff's visit--my mother's musicales develop into a conservatoire--rubinstein's anger--his refusal to play for the grand duchess helen--the idols of the musical world--a friendly jealousy--my stratagem with liszt--glazounoff's kindness--the musicless our great poets pouschkin and lermontoff admired my mother's beauty; yazikoff also wrote a lovely poem in which he says that the ancient greeks would have delighted to kneel and worship at your feet, to build you shrines of snowy marble, where clouds of fragrant incense sweet, from golden altars night and morning, would rise your image fair to greet. but my mother was not merely beautiful, she was also exceedingly kind and very artistic. the great musician and pianist thalberg dedicated to her one of his lovely nocturnes, and i afterwards inherited liszt's kindness for her memory. in the year my mother used to invite to our house every thursday first-rate musicians like nicolas rubinstein (as fine a pianist as his brother anton), eminent violinists like laub and wieniawski, the 'cellist cossman, and other celebrated instrumentalists, { } from whom we heard, with greatest enjoyment, examples of the finest classical music, which lasted from eight to ten. at ten the young people were allowed to dance, and i am ashamed to say that my young friends much preferred the second part of the evening to the first! [illustration: nicolas rubinstein, anton rubinstein] a year or two after my marriage, having (as mentioned in a previous chapter) been ordered by my parents-in-law to accompany them to paris, i duly obeyed, and i think i may say that my life there was unique. from ten in the morning till ten in the evening, i almost invariably stayed with the old people, sitting with them in the bois, or laying a "patience" (the only one i know) at home. i gained, however, one great benefit. i managed to take daily singing lessons at the conservatoire at half-past eight in the morning, from the celebrated masset, who took great interest in my progress. but at last my time was over, for i had to rejoin my husband and my boy in petrograd. when i told professor masset that i was taking my last lesson, he seemed greatly surprised. "oh!" he said, "i guess why you are stopping your lessons. but you are wrong. i will give you lessons gratis for two years, on condition that you make your debut in grand opera. one reason why i ask high fees is in order not to be besieged by too many pupils." "well," said i, "of course twenty-five francs per lesson is a large sum for daily lessons, but that is not my reason. i am unfortunately obliged to interrupt my studies for another reason, my husband wants me to return home." { } the professor looked perfectly horrified. "your husband! are you then married?" he exclaimed. "yes, i am," i answered, "and i have a son." "_voilà une surprise!_" he cried. "and does your husband sing well?" "oh no, he does not sing at all." "then what does he do?" i had to explain as well as i could my husband's position, to which masset impatiently retorted, "well, i only wish i had not taken such pains with your lessons!" which i thought more frank than polite, but the poor professor was disappointed to find that he had been wasting his time on a mere amateur. in order to practise singing without disturbing my old people, i took a little mansarde in the same house, and, when hidden there, the concierge had my order to say i was out. one afternoon, i went to my piano and was studying hard gluck's "orpheus," when suddenly, there was a violent knock at my door. "won't you let me in?" cried a voice. "your stupid concierge insisted that you were out, but i heard your voice, which i recognised. let me come in, i am henri litolff." i opened the door, but i said, "you see that i have only a piano and one chair. i cannot receive visitors." "i will take the chair, and will accompany you," was the answer. and then we had a charming improvised concert. my mother's musical parties led to an important result. struck by their success, nicolas rubinstein { } and his friend the millionaire tretiakoff, conceived the idea of founding a conservatorium in moscow. my dear native town is very enthusiastic and generous when she realises the importance of a great idea. a foundation for a moscow conservatorium was immediately arranged, whilst nicolas rubinstein's elder brother, anton, submitted the same idea to the grand duchess helen, who at once identified herself with a similar project for petrograd. thus we came to possess two conservatoriums, with the two brothers rubinstein as their principals, anton in petrograd, nicolas in moscow, to the great adornment of both capitals. in that enterprise the grand duchess helen showed her true grandeur. and here again, as in the question of the emancipation of the serfs, she found a great supporter in her nephew the grand duke constantine nicolaievitch. i should like any english travellers who visit moscow and petrograd to make a point of seeing these two conservatoriums, of which we certainly may be proud. i continued to be on good terms with both the rubinsteins, and the grand duchess helen often invited anton to her parties. but one evening something happened which was far from pleasant. whilst rubinstein was playing one of his lovely compositions, a young fellow very "well born," but very badly brought up, began turning on his heels muttering in an audible tone something about "rubin, rubin, rubin" (inflamed, i was told, by jealousy in connection with a young girl who was extremely enthusiastic about the artist). rubinstein stopped playing and left the palace. the next { } day he called on baroness rhaden, lady-in-waiting to the grand duchess, and said, "the grand duchess is kind enough to offer me roubles for my performances; i must decline that payment, as also the honour of playing again at the palace. i am quite ready to play to the grand duchess when she is alone, but not otherwise." a few days later the grand duchess sent for me. "is it true," she said, "that the bear is playing at your house every thursday?" "the bear! madame, do you by chance mean rubinstein? if so, yes, he plays for me every thursday." "well but, how do you manage to tame him? do you know that he actually refuses to play at my palace on any terms?" "the only thing i can suppose, madame, is that, although i have no grandees to lend attraction to my receptions, my artist friends, like rubinstein, wieniawski, litolff, etc., always meet with an attentive hearing--they are always accorded complete silence." "yes, but rubinstein should understand that what occurred at the palace the other night was quite an unfortunate and exceptional mischance." the grand duchess, as she looked at me, was evidently very angry, nor did she hasten to invite rubinstein again. but very much later the storm subsided, and peace was restored. the brothers rubinstein were, naturally, the idols of the russian musical world. in petrograd it was anton whose reputation was highest. in moscow nicolas was considered the superior. a { } friendly jealousy on behalf of the two great musicians existed between the two cities. anton in his later years had a charming villa at peterhof where i have met also his wife and family. i remember that, at the conclusion of a discussion on wagner's magnificent, but lengthy, music dramas, rubinstein said he doubted whether anyone could listen to music with real attention and enjoyment for more than two hours at a time. a frank admission! but was he not right? he also endorsed paganini's dictum about the necessity of daily study. "if i do not practise one day i notice it. if i do not practise two days, the public notice it." one of his friends and collaborateurs was leopold auer, who was for so long principal violin professor at the st. petersburg conservatoire, and to whose eminent talent the world owes so much. amongst other well-known musicians whom i have known in my earlier years, were litolff (already mentioned, who, like thalberg, dedicated a composition to my mother), ferdinand hiller, halevy, stockhausen, ole bull, madame pauline viardot, liszt, tchaikovsky and others. i knew liszt well in weimar, where i spent a few weeks. once when he called on me at the hotel de russie, i happened to be changing my dress after a long walk. as i began to hurry my toilette, i heard enchanting sounds from my piano below. judge of my delight to be listening to liszt's improvisations. instead, therefore, of hurrying, i prolonged my change of dress to what i considered would be the extremity of my visitor's patience. but i found him friendly and smiling, not in the least annoyed, when { } i at last entered the room. indeed, he evidently guessed why i had delayed so long, and was even amused at my little stratagem. here is a letter from him: madame, le charme et l'émotion de votre chant m'a fait complètement oublier hier que je n'étais pas libre de mes heures aujourd'hui. veuillez bien m'accorder indulgence et me permettre de venir un autre jour pour vous renouveler mes très respectueux hommages? fr. liszt. it was liszt also who introduced to me lassen, who came every morning to teach me his lovely songs. in weimar, lassen was quite an artistic personage. but i might ramble on for ever with such reminiscences. a few words only about later acquaintances in london. amongst these i think i ought specially to mention my distinguished compatriots, glazounoff and safonoff. tchaikovsky was also here and had fully intended to return to london, where his glorious music had become so popular, and had indeed accepted the invitation of an english friend to be his guest during the forthcoming visit. his death in petrograd occurred shortly afterwards, to our great loss. on one of glazounoff's visits i had a small musical gathering, at which the young russian 'cellist, varia irmanoff, was to play her composition "volga" (air russe pour violoncelle), which she had dedicated to me. unfortunately her accompanist never turned { } up. glazounoff, seeing the poor girl's embarrassment, then went very quietly to the piano and said, "i will accompany you." very russian in kindness and simplicity! i was proud of him. a few minutes later, when my other pianist, the talented miss vera margolies, came, glazounoff seemed delighted to meet his favourite russian artist-friend, just returned from new successes in paris, and about to achieve another success at the queen's hall under the direction of our great safonoff. i must add a few words on mrs. rosa newmarch. she has rendered great service to the artistic world in publishing her two big volumes on our great tchaikovsky, and her works on _the russian opera_ and _the russian arts_, and we russians must always think of mrs. rosa newmarch's efforts to bring about an artistic entente between russia and england. safonoff, that grand artist so well known to london orchestras and audiences, used, in his lighter moments, to amuse us with his inimitable six-line caricatures on the back of menu cards, or on any handy scraps of paper. in these later years i used frequently to meet that grand violinist august wilhelmj, and shall never forget the rather rare examples he gave us of his extraordinary gift of tone, in that respect reminding me somewhat of laub. i used also to meet auer on his occasional visits here, during which he introduced to me his celebrated pupils, kathleen parlow and mischa elman, who have since won world-wide fame. ernest de munck, the eminent belgian { } violoncellist, formerly married to carlotta patti, i knew very well during his last residence in londen, and often heard him perform on his beautiful "strad." he had made his reputation throughout the world, and after the death in paris of his celebrated wife, he spent his last years in london. we had many mutual friends in the musical world of former days. the above are some of the _dii majori_ of the musical profession past and present. but there is also much excellent amateur talent in english society, to which i have often listened with real enjoyment. on the other hand, i must confess that some of my best friends have shown a conspicuous absence of "music in the soul," though far from being on that account "fit for treason's stratagems and spoils!" i need hardly repeat my well-known story of dear kinglake, who used to be unutterably bored by music, and frankly admitted that, of all instruments, he preferred the drum! his attitude was, i suppose, somewhat like that of your celebrated dr. johnson, whose attention was called at a musical party (at which no doubt he unwillingly found himself) to a _tour de force_ of an eminent performer on the violin. "is it not wonderful?" said an ardent listener. "i wish, sir, it were impossible," replied the grim doctor. { } chapter xi the armenian question a fatal treaty--gladstone's opinion--the concert of europe--the unspeakable turk and his methods--england's responsibility--mr. gladstone's energetic action--lord rosebery resigns--gladstone's astounding letter--"i shall keep myself to myself"--"abdul the damned"--"a man whose every impulse is good"--the convention of cyprus--russia and england there is an old and cynical saying that no lawyer draws up an agreement or contract without an eye to the future. if ever a document left trouble for the future it was the berlin treaty. the clause referring to armenia was tantamount to handing over the wretched armenians to the turks; for the concert of europe, that misbegotten child of the treaty of paris, has failed consistently in its futile endeavours. the contention of russia has never been better expressed than by gladstone in a letter to me dated january , , in which he wrote: "a guarantee dependent on the turk for its execution becomes thereby no guarantee at all." again, on february , he wrote: "the real issue, so far as i can see, will arise when the question shall assume this form: is russia to be left alone to execute the will and work of europe?" this is exactly what russia did in , unless it be contended that the "will of europe" sanctioned the wholesale massacre of { } harmless citizens by the very power ordained to protect them--the ruling power. the sublime porte has been as consistent as the concert of europe in evading its responsibilities, and it is needless to say that it as carefully refrained from carrying out its undertaking with regard to armenia as the powers on their part did from insisting on the reforms. possibly the argument of the concert was that, as there were no "ameliorations and reforms" on the part of the sublime porte, there was no opportunity for them to "superintend their application." none of us who knew the turk had any doubts as to the truth of the atrocities at sassoun. these things were too common. the scale differed, the crime was always the same. and what was it? the crime was the establishment--or the re-establishment--of turkish mussulman authority over a christian race. if that were the crime, who were the criminals? on that point i should like to be allowed to say some plain truths, hoping that my english friends will tolerate the candour in others which they never hesitate to practise themselves. the real criminals who were responsible for the atrocities which horrified the civilised world were not the kurds--who at first got all the blame. the criminals who perpetrated the massacre were turkish regular troops, commanded by turkish officers acting in direct obedience to explicit orders from the turkish government. but although the direct complicity of the "sublime" porte in these hideous crimes was not disputed even by the pashas of stamboul, it was { } not with them that the responsibility of these horrors originally lay. the crime at sassoun lay primarily at the door of disraeli. it was one of the many disastrous results of that "peace with honour" which mr. gladstone had the courage to describe as a peace that was no peace, with the honour that prevailed among thieves. that may seem to be a hard saying to those who do not know the facts. to those who do it will be a mere truism. why was it that the armenians at sassoun were left as sheep before the butcher? why was it that the sultan and his pashas felt themselves perfectly free to issue what order they pleased for the massacre of the poor armenians? the answer is, unfortunately, only too simple. it was because england at the berlin congress, and _england alone_--for none of the other powers took any interest in the matter--destroyed the security which russia had extorted from the turkish government at san stéfano, and substituted for the sterling guarantee of russia the worthless paper-money of ottoman promises. was it not, then, england's doing that these poor wretches were outraged and murdered by the rulers, to whose tender mercies england insisted upon consigning them? let me prove my case: in the treaty of san stéfano, the turkish government entered into a direct and explicit obligation to russia to guarantee the security of the armenians. article of the treaty of san stéfano runs thus: { } "as the evacuation by the russian troops of the territory which they occupy in armenia, and which is to be restored to turkey, might give rise to conflicts and complications detrimental to the maintenance of good relations between the two countries, the sublime porte engages to carry into effect without further delay the improvements and reforms demanded by local requirements in the provinces inhabited by armenians, and to guarantee their security from kurds and circassians." now, it is obvious that this clause imposed clear and precise obligations not only upon turkey, but also upon russia. if the reforms were not carried out, if the security of the armenians were not guaranteed, russia would have been bound to interfere, and _would have interfered_, to compel the turks to carry out their treaty obligations. this article seemed to the british plenipotentiaries to give russia a virtual protectorate over armenia, and therefore they insisted upon striking it out. the poor armenians were forbidden to look for their protection to the strong arm of the tsar. the turks were delivered from their express obligation to guarantee the security of their armenian subjects, and it was calmly decreed that the armenians should be content with article of the berlin treaty. that clause ran as follows: "the sublime porte engages to realise without delay those ameliorations and reforms which local needs require in the provinces inhabited by the armenians, and to guarantee their security against the circassians and the kurds. it undertakes to make known, from time to time, the measures taken { } with this object to the powers, who will watch over their application." mark the difference. in place of a positive obligation entered into with the only power near enough and strong enough to enforce the fulfilment of treaty engagements, there was substituted this engagement, over the execution of which the powers, in their beneficence, promised to watch: as the execution has never begun, the powers were not overburdened with much "watching." "waiting" rather expresses what they did--waiting for the turks to begin the fulfilment of the promises which they made to collective europe years and years ago. they are waiting still. meanwhile the armenians were massacred, as, for example, at sassoun, and not there only. but even this did not exhaust the criminal responsibility of lord beaconsfield. he had taken cyprus as a material pledge for the execution of reforms in asiatic turkey. but there were no reforms in asiatic turkey. the only effect of the anglo-turkish convention was to increase the confidence of the sultan that he could do as he pleased in armenia, article of the berlin treaty notwithstanding. england, therefore, was responsible in three ways. she destroyed the russian guarantee exacted by the treaty of san stéfano. she framed the worthless "watching" clause of the berlin treaty, and then, to preclude all possibility of effective pressure upon the turk, she concluded the cyprus convention, which established an illegal british protectorate over the asiatic dominions of the sultan. { } at sassoun was seen the result of that policy. no amount of dispatch-writing, friendly advice, or admonition would improve the condition of the armenians. remonstrances were idle. what was wanted was action. but who could act? no power could occupy and administer armenia but russia. unfortunately, she had no wish and no obligation now to undertake so arduous and so thankless a task. but who else was to do it? no one did it; for russia had once played st. george and europe had thrown back the maiden to the dragon. when i heard of the armenian massacres in , i was more horrified than surprised. when the full confirmation of the horrible news arrived, it made my heart sick. what was even worse, if that were possible, was the fact that the relations between england and russia were strained. all mr. gladstone's energies were concentrated upon urging on lord salisbury's ministry the coercion of the sultan, single-handed if need be. the result was lord rosebery's resignation as leader of the liberal party in the lords, as a protest against a policy that in his opinion could not fail to plunge europe into war. prince lobanoff, who was responsible for russia's policy of opposition to armed intervention against turkey, aroused mr. gladstone's indignation, and i came in for a share of his wrath by virtue of my defence of prince lobanoff. at that time mr. gladstone wrote to me: { } hawarden castle, _october_ _th_, . it is most kind of you to waste powder on an outcast like me; an outcast first from active life; secondly i feel--from your scheme of opinion i cannot read your articles--not because i deal so little with newspaper print, but because i am afraid of disagreeing with you, and in this case i prefer ignorance to strife. i am, you see, possessed with an idea as to the truer mode of dealing with the sultan and his accursed system, founded upon my experience in the year --when we received most valuable and effective aid from your good and great emperor alexander ii. now i have no power and little knowledge--and my imagined knowledge may be all wrong. it is to this effect: ( ) that lord salisbury is not up to the mark in all points, but that he is the best of those who have the matter in their hands. the best there is at the moment to do the work. ( ) that he is held back by others--not to act, say, according to rumour, most by russia. if this is so it is most painful, for this armenian case is the very worst of all that has yet happened, and if the powers are beaten by the sultan, whom every one of them can crush with the little finger, they will be deservedly covered with indelible disgrace. there is plain speaking for you. { } it was; but i replied soothingly, trying to put to him russia's case. his reply electrified europe. it ran: _october_ _nd_, . my dear madame novikoff, in these sad circumstances i am so far comforted as to believe that there is no occasion for controversy between you and me. we have in some critical circumstances heartily co-operated, and i think we have the same sentiments as to armenia. i shall carefully and for many reasons keep myself to myself. i see in _the times_ that the wretched sultan, whom god has given as a curse to mankind, waving his flag of triumph, and the adversaries at his feet are russia, france and england. as to the division of the shame amongst them, i care little. except that i hope that my own country, and for its good, be made conscious and be exhibited to the world for its own full share--whatever that may be. may god in his mercy send a speedy end to the grinning turk and all his doings. so i said when i could say, and could even sometimes do, so i say in my political decrepitude and even death. always yours sincerely, w. e. gladstone. this letter was the sensation of the hour. here are some of the english press comments upon it: "an extraordinary letter," "the sensation of the hour," "startling vehemence," "now famous letter," { } "essentially gladstonian," "silly and wicked balderdash," "ring of life and strength," "shameful letter," "tory papers are terribly shocked," "has startled the civilised world." when i returned from russia to england in , one of the first things i saw on reaching london was "plain words to the assassin," in large letters on the newspaper posters, staring down upon me from the hoardings, and i found people still telling each other what a dreadful fellow the turk really was! plain words, strong words, fierce words was the diet presented to the sultan in varied diplomatic sauces; but the dish was always the same, and his response was quite as monotonous. to empty words, plain or flavoured, he replied by massacres, and this seemed likely to go on for ever. for us this _passe-temps_ was monotony. to the poor armenian, alas, it is death! i rejoiced to see that the english nation was weary of the vaticinations of diplomatists, and was urgently demanding not words, but deeds. it reminded me of , that great year when so many brave attempts were made to change its traditional policy--attempts which, unfortunately, met with but partial success. and above all i rejoiced to hear once more sounding deep and loud, like the great bell of our grand kremlin, above the general hubbub, the commanding note of mr. gladstone's voice--that voice through which the heart and conscience of nations has so often found utterance. but although in some respects like , there was this difference, which, as a russian, i felt more keenly than any one. in russia led, and { } though no other power followed, we fought, we suffered, we triumphed! in the armenian question the initiative of chivalrous action was no longer ours, and bitterly i regretted it. it did not seem, however, to have passed into any other hands. but that made things worse. why was it that russia was not as in ? the answer was easy. because of the treaty of . mr. gladstone lamented and condemned the policy of prince lobanoff. with the lament i concurred. from the condemnation i dissented. prince lobanoff's policy in turkey was inevitable. the responsibility for that departure from our traditional policy rested with england, and it was for england to say how long it should continue. the vividness with which england's armenian agitation brought back to my mind also recalled not less vividly, the hideous disillusionment of ; and i had reason. for through these years of trial and of triumph i did my utmost to persuade my countrymen that england was mr. gladstone and not lord beaconsfield. the generous enthusiasm of st. james's hall made me wrongly suppose that it was equivalent to a resolute reversal of england's traditional policy. but when we had made our sacrifices and settling day came, we found, alas! to our cost, that england was lord beaconsfield after all, and not mr. gladstone. imagine the reproaches that were addressed to me! no one can ever realise the reproaches i addressed to myself. we were not likely to make that mistake again. we were no more to be deluded with words than the { } sultan was to be coerced with adjectives. we looked at facts--hard, disagreeable, ugly though they were--and adjusted our policy accordingly. the first fact was the sultan. in england called him "the assassin" and the "accursed." mr. william watson even went to the length of referring to him as "abdul the damned." but england, alas! saved him in , and she gloried in the deed. when lord salisbury reported from berlin the net result of english diplomacy at the congress, he boasted that it had "restored, with due security for good government (!), a very large territory to the government of the sultan," and that the alterations made in our treaty of san stéfano tended "powerfully to secure from external assault the stability and independence of his empire." it is difficult to repress a bitter smile when recalling the positive assurances which were given to europe by lord beaconsfield as to the "angelic" character of abdul hamid, who was then england's _protégé_, england's ally, england's favourite. russia maintained that no sultan could be trusted to protect christian subjects, and mr. gladstone concurred. everywhere there must be a guarantee. either the populations must be freed entirely from his rule or an outside power must superintend and enforce the execution of reforms. england met this with a flat refusal. she made it the first object of her policy to restore the direct uncontrolled authority of the sultan over as wide a territory as possible, and lord beaconsfield exulted in the fatal success of that policy for many reasons, but especially for one, which most of my english { } friends seem to have forgotten, but which russians, being the sufferers, do not forget so easily. lord beaconsfield was sure he had done right because the sultan was such "a good man." on his return from berlin, in his speech at the mansion house (july , ) he gave the following testimonial to abdul hamid--the hero of to-day: "i look to the individual character of that human being as of vast importance. he is a man whose every impulse is good. however great may be the difficulties he has to encounter, however various may be the influences that may ultimately control him, his impulses are always good. he is not a tyrant, he is not dissolute. he is not a bigot. he is not corrupt." the comments of the young turks on this pronouncement would be interesting. england had her way. abdul hamid, "whose every impulse was good," reigned by virtue of his action in over regions from which russia had driven him out. but that was not all. england deliberately spoiled, as may be seen by reference to the protocols of the congress, every stipulation made to compel the sultan to keep his word. his "impulses were so good" it would be cruel to make provision for the proper execution of his treaty obligations! he must be left unhampered and uncontrolled. england rejected russian proposals to impose upon all contracting parties the mutual duty of controlling the stipulations of the treaty because the porte objected to allow within its own limits the control of other states. that was not to be thought of. the sultan must be left free and { } uncontrolled to obey those "good impulses" of which lord beaconsfield was so well assured. thus it is that europe was paralysed over the armenian massacres. in face of such a situation which had thus been created, and in the midst of an impotence which was prepared in advance at the berlin congress, russia was overwhelmed with denunciations because she did not remain true to the crusading policy of . this hardly seemed to me to be what in england you call "fair play." but that was not all. if we had merely to do with the berlin treaty, we might have endeavoured to make the best use of the worthless weapons which it contains. unfortunately, the responsibility of england for the inaction of russia was far more direct, far more deadly, than this. for lord beaconsfield, and the english people applauded him, with the evil prescience of hatred, foresaw the armenian massacres, and provided in advance for the paralysing of russia's generous initiative. he even fixed a date when events would compel russia to face the necessity of resorting to force to coerce the sultan, and, as he publicly explained in the heart of the city of london, he regarded it as the crowning achievement of his policy to prevent such action on our part by the solemn public pledge of immediate war by england in that case. lord beaconsfield said: "suppose the settlement of europe had been limited to the mere treaty of berlin. what are the probable consequences which would then have { } occurred? in ten, fifteen, it might be twenty years [it has been exactly eighteen!] the power of russia being revived, her resources having again resumed their general strength, some quarrel would again have occurred, bulgarian or otherwise [armenian this time], between turkey and russia, and in all probability the armies of russia would have assaulted the ottoman dominions both in europe and asia, enveloping with her armies the city of constantinople and the powerful position which it occupies. well, what would have been the probable conduct under these circumstances of the government of this country?" this was the vital question for prince lobanoff, and the answer to it has shaped the whole policy of russia. lord beaconsfield continued: "whoever might have been the minister and whatever the party in power, the position of the government would have been this. there must have been hesitation for a time, there must have been a want of decision and firmness, but no one could doubt that ultimately england would have said: 'this will never do; we must prevent the conquest of asia minor and must interfere in this matter to assist because of russia.' no one, i am sure, in this country who merely considers this question can for a moment doubt that that must have been the ultimate policy of this country." therefore, he went on to explain (i summarise the points of a long speech), in order to remove any possible doubt on the subject, the voice of england should be clearly, firmly, and decidedly expressed { } in advance, and this he claimed he had effected by the conclusion of the cyprus convention. there has to be no more hesitating, doubting and considering "contingencies." england was, once for all, definitely committed to defend the asiatic frontier of the ottoman empire against any advances of the russian army in any quarrel, "bulgarian or otherwise." this, he declared, was "the ultimate policy" of england, and he embodied it for all men to see in the cyprus convention. lord salisbury had previously described that convention as an undertaking given "fully and unreservedly" to prevent any further encroachments by russia upon turkish territory in asia. that was plain speaking. the convention of cyprus, therefore, was a document prepared to prevent our taking any action for the protection of the armenians. it meant war--war by england, by sea and land all round the world, against russia if she advanced a single company of armed police into the valleys of armenia. with this convention still in force, who could blame russia for not joining in operations against abdul? of course i was told--even by mr. gladstone himself--that the cyprus treaty contained no obligation to protect the assassin in armenia except on condition of reforms, and that the sultan had been informed long ago that the covenant fell to the ground by his breach of faith in not giving the reforms. this, i confess, was news to me, and in russia we knew nothing of any such abandonment of the convention by the english government. { } in those years the russian people did not move, although they undoubtedly followed with intense interest all the eloquent speeches delivered in england on behalf of the unhappy armenians, for russia certainly can never be indifferent to the christian cause in turkey. all her policy in the east had that permanent basis. but this time the lead was taken by great britain, who was credited with some definite plan of her own. russia's help was never asked in the _only_ way which could be fruitful, and her minister of foreign affairs, prince lobanoff, unhesitatingly expressed his dissent from the half-measures which were proposed, and which would only irritate the sultan and further injure the cause of the unhappy armenians--bad enough already. thank god, their losses did not amount to the , lives stated in the english press; but even the tenth part is a terrible, terrible slaughter. the poor armenians would never have risen in rebellion had they not expected from great britain the help that the slavs received from russia. i suppose our crime is that we did not do great britain's work. but really this cannot constitute russia's duty! it was at the beginning of , when the long agony of the war of emancipation in the balkans and in armenia was drawing to a close, that i published _is russia wrong?_ it was a protest and an appeal against the fatal superstition that our two countries were natural enemies. the appeal was for the re-establishment of the russo-english alliance, which seemed to me essential for the best interests of both countries. it was venturesome, { } perhaps even audacious, to issue such an appeal when all your arsenals were ringing with preparations for war with russia, and when lord beaconsfield was even completing his arrangements for forcing your fleet up to the gates of constantinople. in those days there were few who listened to russian protests; among these few, however, were the flower of english intellect. my great friend, mr. j. a. froude, in an eloquent preface, commended my appeal to the attention of his countrymen. mr. carlyle honoured it with his emphatic assurances of support. in fact, it was he who was the first in urging me to republish in book form all my letters on the anglo-russian relations. four years later, when i re-issued the appeal with other matter in my _russia and england_, m. emile de laveleye reviewed it in the _fortnightly_, but so great was the popular prejudice against russians, that mr. morley would not allow him even to name the author of the book whose proposals were under review. i shall never forget de laveleye's indignation at having been so roughly treated by the editor. "it is pure despotism," exclaimed he. "people talk of freedom of opinion, and they will not allow you, at the same time, to express that which you most strongly hold! it is despotism and deceit combined. of all kinds of despotism--the worst," concluded he. i did not contradict my friend, as he was expressing exactly my own views. fortunately for me, mr. gladstone was not handcuffed in the same way by the editor of the _nineteenth century_. he reviewed the book not only at length, but warmly supported my humble plea for { } a cordial and good understanding between the two great empires which dominate asia. "every englishman," said he, with his wonderful outspokenness, "must read this book." his advice may have been followed by some of his party, but i certainly ignominiously failed to convince the jingoes. but all this is very long ago and a new era has since opened for russia and england. i have written this chapter to show what apparently insurmountable obstacles have been overcome to allow russia and england to join forces in with the common object of freeing europe from an intolerable tyranny. in the meantime, poor armenia suffers as even she has not suffered before, and once more russia is carrying hope to the hearts of unfortunate christians ground beneath the turkish heel. { } chapter xii the sobering of russia russian dreamers--fighting a curse--first steps--an interesting encounter--a great reform--its acceptance by the peasants--the cabman's interrogative--he begs me to intercede with the tsar--the temptation of drink--my peasant teas--the drink habit--our courageous emperor there are some people who accuse me of being a dreamer, and i confess they are not altogether wrong. for many years i "dreamed" of an anglo-russian understanding; it was the great dream of my life. i could have wished that it had been realised without the shedding of rivers of blood and the wasting of tens of thousands of lives; still, i have been spared to see my dream come true, and i can only hope that out of this terrible sacrifice good may come. some of my friends were as inveterate dreamers as i, notably mr. m. gringmuth, the editor of _the moscow gazette_, who, in , announced his determination of struggling energetically against drunkenness in our beloved russia. "we must convince our government," he said, "of the absolute necessity of stopping this evil and of finding better sources of revenue--sources more worthy of a great country." i remember with what thankfulness i read these patriotic words. in alcohol i saw a greater enemy { } to russia than nihilism and all its kindred influences. it was the secret enemy eating into our country's very vitals. then came the day when, with a stroke of the pen, our tsar did the greatest thing that any monarch has ever done for his subjects--he killed the foe that had been for generations menacing millions of homes. there have been many dreamers in russia who, like mr. gringmuth, have fought the common enemy. i remember in the year i was travelling in finland. it was a bitterly cold september day, and i was glad when we reached terioki (a station an hour's distance from petrograd) to get some refreshment. sitting in a corner of the room i was enjoying my cup of tea, when suddenly i heard a rough and imperious voice. "a glass of gin (vodka). be quick!" "but we have no gin," replied the waiter. "we sell no alcohol here." "what is the meaning of this? well, then, give me some wine." again the waiter answered quietly, "we sell no wine at this station." "dear me! how absurd!" exclaimed the rough voice. "well, then, give me some beer at once." "very well, sir, i can offer you beer, but only if you also take some solid food. here are beef-steak, chops, patties--choose what you like." "all right, all right; give me beer and anything you like besides," shouted the thirsty traveller. grumbling and vexed, he swallowed his steak and drank his beer, looking with disappointed eyes at the half-bottle that had been placed before him. { } i followed the scene from my corner, and was greatly amused. during that time a gentleman who was studying my face seemed to read the meaning of my satisfied and joyful look. "madam," he said politely, taking off his hat, "pardon the liberty i take in addressing you, but i see you are pleased with this little scene." "pleased," i repeated; "no, i am not pleased, i am delighted." "well," continued he, "let me tell you that our struggle against drunkenness has not been in vain. and i am happy to meet people who seem to sympathise with the results of our work." "tell me more about it," i said. "i must know how you manage to paralyse drunkenness, even at railway stations, where there are so many sorts of people." "ah, it has gone further than those," proudly replied the unknown. "it seems that only a strong step in the right direction was needed to set the whole enterprise at work. the simple but important programme we have adopted is to induce our people to feel that a drunken country--like a drunkard--may easily degenerate and go to ruin. we are determined not to fall in that abyss." "but what are the practical measures you recommend and which you apply?" "since this important duty became clear to us," he said, "we started to work with great energy. we established in every town and every village temperance meetings, conferences, discussions. we distributed useful leaflets, simply but clearly expounding our views on the necessity of our struggle, { } and i am happy to say we have been all this time extremely successful. our schemes have been eagerly accepted, and our society has immensely increased. in fact, our success has far exceeded our warmest expectations, both in diminishing the hours for the sale of alcohol and in reducing the number of public-houses. in many places--in viborg, for instance--even beer is not sold. those who want to buy alcohol must go elsewhere--that is to say, where our propaganda has not yet been so well established. no doubt it is only a question of time; far wider results are certain. "our propaganda," he continued, "at first seemed strange. now all our societies compete with each other in zeal and energy. during our last elections, all our candidates secured the support of the tee-totallers, and when in parliament, strengthened by the agitation, they carried most drastic measures." "and yourself," i asked, "what political party do you belong to?" "heaven forbid!" exclaimed he, as if i had put the most grotesque question. "i am a business man. all my time is absorbed by my business, and i have never had time for politics. those who sympathise with our propaganda are my friends, that's all." "what keeps your societies together? what pledges? for how long is the pledge binding? with us, in russia proper," continued i, "each new member takes an oath in church, and likes to feel that there is a religious element connected with his pledge." "we require nothing of the kind," answered he; { } "the moment a man recognises the harm of alcohol he clearly sees where his duty lies, that's all. the conditions concerning the furtherance of our propaganda differ. in some places there are no alcohol shops at all. in others there are only a limited number of public-houses. as a rule, where they reduce that number they also limit the hours of sale." "but i understand, according to the charming scene we have just witnessed," said i, "restrictions are also put on beer, whilst count witte actually recommended to teetotallers beer as a deviation from alcohol." "can it be possible?" exclaimed the gentleman. "what was his object in doing so? every man knows perfectly well that it is only a question of degree. the substance remains the same. when you start with beer, you gradually go to the gin. this is known everywhere and, i repeat, by everybody. among certain precautions, which are very useful, though they may seem at first glance trivial, is this. where the sale of alcohol is not absolutely abolished, only diminished, gin is never sold in small bottles, which could be carried in the pocket. alcohol is sold only in large bottles, which are too costly for the poor man and too cumbrous. the latter have to go to some other place or town--which is neither a cheap nor easy way of getting what one wants. as to private sale, it is out of the question, as it would be denounced immediately by some teetotal neighbour, and punished by law." "what is the part of the government in all these reforms?" i asked. { } "none," replied he, "none whatever, except that they ought to look for their revenue elsewhere, and not be afraid of displeasing the publicans." here i remembered that i had to continue my journey to petrograd, and, thanking my obliging informant, hurriedly rushed to my train. the terrible evil wrought in russia by drunkenness has been generally admitted and discussed ever since i can remember. as is very well known, half of our convicts committed their crimes under the influence of this horrible scourge, a fact which is probably equally applicable to other countries, including england. some of our officials, my son amongst them, i am happy to say, availed themselves of every opportunity to explain the danger of the drink evil to the peasantry. when the great reform of the zemski natchalnik (a local administrator resembling the english j.p.) was introduced, alexander novikoff delivered an address to the peasants on our estate in the following words: "i came among you to make your acquaintance and to explain to you what was meant by the new reform inaugurated by his majesty, and the changes which that reform introduces into your life. let me read you the imperial manifesto addressed to the senate." (here followed the reading aloud of the ukase, amidst profound and attentive silence.) "you thus see for yourselves that the object of this reform is the emperor's desire to abolish certain previous conditions of your life, in order to promote { } your well-being. the harvest of last year was of medium average. this year is worse; our fields are almost naked; and people are already threatened with famine. is it possible that during several years of good harvest you could not have provided for one bad year? this and other such negligences on your part have shown his majesty 'the necessity of coming to your aid in establishing'--as it is said in the ukase--'a help which stands more within your reach.' that help, which is possessed of considerable power, stands nearer to you in two ways: nearer, locally speaking, and also nearer by the confidence which a zemski natchalnik hopes to arouse in you. formerly, every complaint against the rural administration had to be forwarded to the tribunal in the district town; that tribunal could thus form its judgment of a case only on the foundation of written documents, and consequently just rights were sometimes inadequately protected. other cases necessitated appeals to still more distant authority. henceforth, in all your business affairs, which your village judges are not allowed to settle, you have simply to appeal to your zemski natchalnik who lives close to you. but besides the local proximity there is the proximity of confidence, which i hope to deserve from you. remember that i am always ready to hear you whenever you are in need, at any time of the day, either at my own house or in your village. i beg you to come to me, not only with your complaints, but also when you require advice or guidance. i shall always be happy to help you to the best of my power. "let me now tell you what i expect from { } yourselves. i begin with your meetings. you must admit that great disorders have taken place at these gatherings. were they not often accompanied with drinking? what a quantity of land and property has been exchanged for brandy! i have now given strict orders--which i repeat to you now--that the smallest piece of land is not to be disposed of without the consent of your village judges and unless sanctioned by me. you must keep well in mind that a village meeting is not a convivial gathering of friends, but is an administrative assembly, where you have to perform a serious duty conferred upon you. had you always looked upon that duty in its proper light there would be no question of drunkenness at your meetings, nor could your village judges ever complain of not having the number of householders necessary for a legal meeting. "i must now point out what is expected from you in your private life. first comes your duty to god. it is not for me to investigate what happens with your soul. that is the duty of your spiritual fathers--your confessors. but remember that i shall severely punish any disorderly behaviour in church or during any service. how often have i seen drunkenness at your marriage festivities--people going to church under the influence of drink. the same happens at easter and other holidays. i appeal to your spiritual fathers to help me in re-educating you; and i shall also be very happy, so far as the law allows me to do so, to help them, whenever my authority may be needed for their support. "i now mention your duties to your sovereign. { } you beg him to help you in your harvest difficulty. what can you do in return? how can you repay him? only in helping us, in the execution of his orders, in faithfully obeying the laws and their administrators. until now you have considered your village chiefs almost as your servants; while their sacred duty is not to flatter your weaknesses, but to lead you in the path of right. "now let us refer to your family obligations. it has lately become the custom for the youngsters to attend the village meetings, with loud and idle talk; while the heads of the family, who are best entitled to express their opinions, as they used to do in olden times, shrink from attending. addressing ourselves to a village meeting, we say 'elders,' but there are only youngsters to be seen. you must admit that, though the old people are less educated than you in reading and writing, they have nevertheless much more experience and are more attentive to their duties. "as far as your private life is concerned, i must draw your particular attention to two of your shortcomings, which have not been hitherto sufficiently pointed out to you. "the first is your want of respect to your parents, which i will not tolerate, because how can any man expect respect from others when he is himself disrespectful to his own parents? "the second fault is drunkenness. how many families are driven to misery; how many crimes are committed only through alcohol? neither i nor your village judges have the right to break into your homes and prevent you by law from spending your { } time in drinking. we can only urge and beg you to give up that habit. but remember well: to come to a village meeting or to a tribunal in a state of intoxication is prohibited by law, and for this you may be severely punished. a new election of village judges has now to take place, and this new administration is subject to the control of your zemski natchalnik. i have often heard people say: 'he is a happy fellow now. he may drink as much as he likes, now that he is a judge.' for myself, i confidently expect that with the new administration there will be neither drunkenness nor bribery. your new judges have to give an oath on the gospel. it is your duty to elect men who realise the importance of such an oath. the title of a village judge should command a respect of which every man ought to be proud. i hope that we shall live together in harmony, and that you will help me in my difficult task. now let us thank god for granting us an emperor so anxious to help us and to promote our well-being. let us also pray the almighty to enlighten us, and to guide us in our choice in the important duties we are now about to undertake." a te deum followed mr. novikoff's speech, then the election of the village judges, and the assemblage of peasants, thus rendered serious and thoughtful, presented an impressive scene. it was satisfactory to see with what intense interest the peasants followed these words of sober advice. some years ago, i cannot exactly say when and where, i ventured to describe some of my own personal experiences connected with the same vital { } question. i remember so well the details of the facts of which i then spoke, that i would like to repeat them even now. i was driving one evening from the zarskoe selo station in petrograd to my hotel, some distance away. although it was the summer season the weather reminded one rather of october or november. it was cold, rainy and windy; under such circumstances one naturally begins dreaming of personal comfort, a warm room and a cup of hot tea. one becomes prosaic. it seemed to me as if my drive would never come to an end. suddenly i heard a voice: "madame," asked my young driver, "are you a russian?" "yes," answered i, "thank god, i am a russian!" a few minutes later i heard the same voice say: "madame, are you a greek orthodox?" i naturally repeated again: "yes, thank god, i am a greek orthodox!" but my driver seemed to be inquisitive. "and do you often see the tsar?" asked the boy. "no, unfortunately very seldom," answered i. but i was puzzled to know the cause of all these questions, i even forgot for a few minutes to dream about my cup of hot tea, and took up the dialogue myself. "but tell me, why do you want to know all these things?" "well, i thought that perhaps i could beg you to intercede on our behalf, when you see his majesty. the fact is, i have been brought up at mr. serge { } ratchinsky's school as a teetotaller. may god bless him for the good he has done to us children." the lad went on to explain that on growing up he had to help his parents, who owing to a bad harvest suffered great privations. he left his village and came to petrograd to work and earn some money. of course he had to buy a nice horse, a good cab and an overcoat--the authorities are very particular now as to the drivers' appearance in towns. he had to face all these expenses, and to work very hard, as may be imagined. in fact he was at it all day. "when the evening comes," he continued, "one can really die of starvation: nowhere is a crust of bread obtainable. all the bakeries, all the tea-rooms, sausage-shops and canteens of every sort are closed punctually at p.m. only the public bars are open all night, but even there no food can be procured. you must admit that no man can live entirely without food," wisely concluded my driver. having expressed my acquiescence i became silent, and soon afterwards reached my hotel. but ever since that day my young cabman's unpretentious conversation has been retained in my memory. besides, a strange circumstance resulted from it. mr. serge ratchinsky was one of my best friends. i had now met one of his pupils, who are all devoted to him and to his teaching, and are moreover all teetotallers. [illustration: the clergy and choir of novo-alexandrofka, , on the day of the consecration of the church] it is pleasant to see sometimes good work actually bearing good fruit, and to realise that all our efforts are not in vain. of course we must never hesitate { } to do our duty because sometimes it results only in disappointment. i also had worked to the best of my ability in the same direction as ratchinsky, but more and more did i realise my impotence in fighting an evil of such magnitude. it became evident to me that certain measures, in order to be accepted by the whole of russia, could only be carried out when proclaimed by the highest power in the land. if only the tsar would come to our rescue! was my constant thought. had not the emancipation of forty-eight millions of serfs been a good enough example to justify this hope? but still in my humble way i continued to do whatever i could, at all events for conscience' sake. so when i used to go to our village novo alexandrovka, i sometimes invited peasants to take tea with me. i confess they always accepted my invitations with pleasure, though they knew that i was an inveterate teetotaller, and that i hated their favourite vodka. so they took one mug after another of my tea, and bit their sugar with evident satisfaction. i took advantage of these informal meetings to explain to them the horror of taking intoxicating liquors. once i asked one of my guests: "how many roubles a year do you spend on drink? tell me frankly." they all seemed very embarrassed at my question, but one of them dolefully replied: "well, i believe, not less than fifty roubles a year." "is it not a sin," exclaimed i, "a great sin? we in the government of tambov, as you all know, can buy a good cow for that money, and with that { } there would be ready food for all the chicks and brats, and no need for them to go about begging for food." "that may be so," agreed my visitor; and then he became silent and continued to drink his mug of tea. watching my poor folk, i would sometimes ask them if they cared for tea, and always received the same reply: "why of course we all like tea, but it is too dear for us. naturally our masters may indulge in it, but we are poor people with empty pockets, while vodka is quite within our reach, and is cheap and plentiful everywhere." "yes," i said to myself, "count witte has not shrunk from tempting the poor people everywhere in every way. he introduced the diabolical habit amongst them of buying their alcohol in small bottles at a conveniently low price. thus any beggar can buy one of these bottles and put it in his pocket." this drink question made me feel sometimes exceedingly wretched. surely, i said to myself, something might be done? the evil done by witte's demoralising measure is well understood by the germans. as soon as they occupied the polish provinces in russia, one of their first steps was not only to re-open all the alcohol shops, but to add greatly to their number. let us hope that this evil, like the occupation itself, is only temporary. if some benevolent person would make alcohol very expensive and tea very cheap and therefore accessible, another of my dreams would be realised. but fairies are scarce. yet perhaps there exists a means by which this end may be attainable. { } if the duty on imported tea were greatly diminished, as well as the excise on sugar, a great step towards sobriety would thereby be assured. people who are indifferent to the moral condition of russia assure me that this would cause too heavy a loss of government revenue. they may be right, but i should suppose that any temporary loss of revenue would soon be made up by the increased demand for tea and sugar, which would undoubtedly be immense, both articles being so important to our people's comfort. still less doubt could there be about the moral advantage. temperance has, it is agreed, an enormously beneficial effect. those who want to see this for themselves and to study this question thoroughly, should go especially to plotsk in our polish provinces, and visit there our old catholics called "mariavites" and their bishops. it cannot be sufficiently well known that since this noble religious movement began in the year (when the pope's infallibility was proclaimed), , people have become mariavites, thanks to the efforts and example of their bishops and priests, and that all the congregation is composed of absolute teetotallers. a leading and curious characteristic of bishop kovalsky's parish is that they are all absolute teetotallers--materially very poor, but rich in faith and energy. each of them joyfully brings to the church his hard-earned contribution, with the result that the community is well provided with churches, schools, workshops, etc. try to understand by this example what voluntary efforts, personal sacrifices and teetotalism may do. since these lines were written, god has taken { } pity upon us, and on the declaration of war, our noble and courageous emperor came to our rescue by ordering the closing of the vodka bars and the total prohibition of alcohol. from all the reports, this measure, drastic though it was, has elicited not the complaints, but rather the blessings of the entire country. a curious fact is also traceable to this wise legislation in many parts of russia: the village banks have never been in better funds than now, while crime has enormously diminished, and family life flourishes. reforms in russia, even of the greatest magnitude, are sometimes carried out with miraculous rapidity. as a great many people, even in england, well know, the liberation of forty-eight millions of serfs--half of whom suddenly became freeholders--was actually introduced ( february, ) after two years working out. the abolition of the village commune (in many respects resembling the indian communal system) has been abolished in still shorter time. it worked fairly well, i am told, before the emancipation, but ceased to do so after the great reform. the complete abolition of the traffic in drink was effected in two days, all over russia, by the emperor's order, and at this very moment, in spite of the war and our bewildering expenditure in self-defence, for which russia never thought of preparing herself, our minister of public instruction, count ignatieff, is elaborating another gigantic reform--the execution of which will prove that he is a true son of his celebrated father. the latter, count nicolas ignatieff, our former ambassador in { } turkey, and later minister of interior, was well known in the world for his grand schemes and ideas. at this moment, whilst i am writing this (august, ) the intention is to introduce in the whole of our large country, _general_ compulsory education, and ten additional universities. and we russians firmly believe in the realisation of measures of such gigantic proportions, when they are urgently needed by our people. with us, what may seem almost incredible becomes perfectly real when guided by one concentrated and intelligent power. { } chapter xiii miscellaneous memories my embarrassment--a spy--i am easily taken in--a demand for fifty pounds--a threat--i defy the blackmailer--a warning--gladstone's refusal to meet gambetta--my husband's dilemma--russian views on duelling--kinglake challenges an emperor--my brother's views--kinglake's charm--the value of an englishman--the dogger bank incident i once heard an after-dinner speaker refer to his remarks as "long pauses bridged by a poverty of thought." i find that a volume of reminiscences is in danger of becoming a sheaf of inconsequences bound by unpardonable egotism. i seem long since to have exhausted what i regard as a reasonable number of i's; and then again, there are so many things that i want to say that bear no reasonable relation to each other. my position is that of the young man at a dinner party who was boiling over with eagerness to tell a shooting story. he waited impatiently for the conversation to develop in such a direction as would enable him to drag it in. dessert arrived, and still no opening. in sheer desperation he stamped loudly on the floor beneath the table. "what was that? sounded like a gun. talking of guns, etc.," and he secured his opening. if i appear inconsequent, my readers must remember that young man's shooting story and forgive me. { } for some reason that i have never quite been able to understand, people seem to think that i am endowed with great wealth. if they only knew how money hates me. the moment i take it into my hands it runs and runs away from me with frightened speed. but all this does not prevent people from convincing themselves not only that i am possessed of great riches, but that i am so stupid as not to know what to do with them. sometimes this state of affairs is extremely tiresome. i recall one incident that should be a lesson to others as it has been a lesson to me. one day a card was brought to me bearing the name gretchen ---- aus riga. i asked myself: is that gretchen going to complain to me of her faust? have i to chastise that captivating _mangeur de coeurs_? but the fact that my visitor was from riga, and thus a compatriot of mine to a great extent, prevailed upon my doubts, and i received my young lady, who by the way was not particularly young and not exactly a fashionable lady, was not only terribly lean, but angular and wretched in appearance. this killed my hesitation, and i eagerly tried to find out what she wanted and what i could do, and who recommended her to me. "nobody," she said. "i never heard your name, but by mere chance saw it in the _court guide_." she wanted some remunerative work, as remunerative as possible. i already had a secretary, but engaged my "gretchen" as an extra reader. she seemed pleased, and i was in hopes { } that i should also be pleased with that new alliance. my new reader was certainly not stupid, and always wanted to have some messages for my friends, wanting to know everything about everybody. always being busy and short of time i could not satisfy that curious fancy of my "gretchen." she said she knew nobody in england, except myself. i tried to help her, advising her to start a little boarding-house, especially as i was going to scotland for a fortnight to stay with lady mary nisbet-hamilton. besides, a new plan suggested itself to me; i thought that whilst "gretchen" was looking for her rooms and furniture, she might live in my rooms at the hotel during my absence. may i now say that no plan could be more foolish and dangerous than mine turned out to be. scotland is a wonderfully hospitable and kind part of the world, and oh! how beautiful, and i was naturally captivated and prolonged my visit. on returning to my hotel i found "gretchen" much less angular and less melancholy. the little cottage was found, the furniture bought, and she still wanted only a little more help. upon this we parted, to my great satisfaction. but something perfectly unexpected happened to me a few weeks later. "my gretchen" returned to me and said that she decidedly wanted more help, not less than £ (fifty). at that time, my pocket being empty, i looked at her sternly and said: "but you are mad, this is out of the question," "no," said she, "you shall give me this money. in fact i can compel you to do so. do you know that i can sell your correspondence to an editor or a publisher? { } you forgot to lock your drawers and i have taken a copy of all letters addressed to you." i confess i was appalled. this happened in the years - , i don't remember which, when i was in the midst of a tremendous political agitation. with my answer i generally returned letters which might be taken as political documents, still my drafts could serve as a clue to many important discussions, and then i remembered that i did not return bishop strossmeyer's letter to mr. gladstone, as i wanted to discuss it verbally at our first meeting. yes, i was terribly served for my imprudence. however, trying to look perfectly calm, i said: "very well, sell my correspondence, sell your copies to whom you like, but i cannot give you the money you require, and i forbid you ever to come to me again. sell me to whomsoever you like, be it a statesman or a publisher." a few years later a friend of mine was interested to find out what had become of her and her boarding-house, but there she heard that my gretchen had left england and many debts behind her. we then understood that i simply had been in the hands of a spy. but have i not been cruelly punished for being young and stupid? alas! stupidity is very often a great luxury for which one pays dearly. i was still in deep mourning, and somehow personal questions affected me very little. i hope that this strange experience will be understood by some of my indulgent readers, and may at the same time serve as a warning especially to thoughtless, confiding russians. { } i remember dear kinglake once annoying me by referring to john bright as "only" a quaker. i had for bright a great admiration, and before i had finished i think poor dear "eothen" became convinced of the fact. my first meeting with bright was in the late eighties. i was as carried away as were my two brothers, nicolas and alexander kiréeff, by the movement of the old catholics and the idea of universal peace (even before the hague conference). great was my joy when one day the visit was announced to me of the famous john bright, whose name was not only known, but also revered in russia. we naturally began talking on the mission of "the friends" to russia, their reception by the emperor nicolas, and the crimean war. "after all," said i frankly, "in spite of all her sacrifices in the year ' , england has gained but little; just a monument in pall mall inscribed 'crimea' to remind the world of a costly struggle." our interview lasted about two hours. he talked away and i remained a patient listener. i confess i fancied that as i said nothing, the conversation would be quite to his liking! and i suppose it was, for meeting a friend of mine shortly afterwards, he remarked: "i saw o.k. the other day. i was very much struck by her. she is the very picture of health and strength. she will never grow old." nothing more! was it not dreadful? are you smiling? our position in finland offers sometimes amusing experiences. i remember my poor husband's trouble at helsingfors. at that time he was attached { } to the grand duke nicolas (father of the present grand duke), who was always very kind to him. in meeting his chief at helsingfors he was invited to come to lunch on the same day. at the appointed time, having put on all his decorations and the appropriate uniform, he went out into the street and tried to get a cab. he saw many vacant vehicles one after the other, and made desperate signs to make them stop, all in vain. not even the policeman seemed to understand what the poor general tried to explain. will you believe it!--novikoff entirely missed his appointment because they all pretended that they could not understand a word of russian. i confess my husband's distress amused me, but his helplessness seemed so incredible that i only saw its funny side at the time--whilst in reality it certainly possessed also a very serious side. it was always pleasing and interesting to me to feel and to know that my old friend kinglake and my dear brother alexander, though they did not then know each other personally, were linked together by a common opinion on a subject they both took very deeply to heart: the subject of duels. kinglake could never pardon the duke of wellington the abolition of duelling in the british army. personally, having always felt very strongly against every kind of violence or bloodshed, i found his point of view very difficult to understand, and often tried to investigate more profoundly the ethics of the question. "do you really mean," i said to kinglake one day, "that it is right and justifiable for people to { } attack each other, sometimes for the flimsiest reasons, as is so often done in germany, just for the fun of the thing--while the tragic little game, as often as not, ends in the death of one of the combatants?" "that is so," said kinglake seriously; "but the possibility of a duel ennobles the spirit of a country, is an education in manners, and results in the development of a kind of moral _muscle_." the anecdote, by the way, is well known that kinglake once sent a challenge, went off to boulogne where the duel was to take place, waited there for days in vain, and, his adversary having failed to appear or to make any sort of response, returned to london in disgust. the point of this story, however, has never been revealed, and after so many years i think i can hardly be accused of indiscretion if i tell my readers the interesting detail that the adversary to whom kinglake had sent his unanswered challenge was no less a personage than louis napoleon, afterwards the emperor napoleon iii! i have this from abraham hayward, a very indiscreet friend of kinglake's, who never appreciated the importance of the oriental saying: "speech is silver and silence is gold." for my part, i have often regretted having said too much, and never deplored having said too little. but to return to the serious aspect of the question. my brother, though he always strongly condemned the frivolity and light-mindedness with which the practice of duelling is treated in germany, held the view that duels were an indispensable necessity where questions of honour are concerned. { } "can you imagine," he said to me one day in reply to a remonstrance in this connection, "that i could, for instance, allow some madman to attack with impunity your good name or that of our mother? how could i hesitate for a moment to send him a challenge?" "but you yourself say '_a madman_,'" i protested. "a madman is not responsible for his actions." "the line between madness and sanity," answered my brother, "is a very difficult one to determine. the punishment of certain misdeeds is necessary, not only for the culprit himself, but as a deterrent and precautionary measure, without which no civilised society can long exist in safety." my brother, indeed, was exceedingly keen on this subject, and really became quite an authority on the question of duelling. not long before his death, when he was already very ill, general mikoulin, who was publishing a book in this connection, came and asked my brother to give him some of his views, which he did at some length. "why can we not publish your thoughts ourselves?" i protested, when mikoulin had left the room; "why should you give them to someone else?" my brother smiled sadly. "is it not all the same?" he asked. "as long as these views are propagated, what matter under whose name? mikoulin is a staff-general, and i am sure he will do it well." mikoulin, by the way, who published the book entirely according to what my brother had told him, was killed the other day, after many brilliant deeds. it seems to me that some of the opinions my { } brother at various times expressed on this favourite theme, may be of interest to english readers. i will quote from some of his letters and articles. "the question of duels in military circles," he once wrote, "has been thoroughly investigated and placed in its true position by the firm, guiding hand of our late beloved emperor alexander iii, always so sensitive in matters of personal honour, and so keen for the preservation of peace. "the matter is by no means an easy one to deal with, the more so as few people have the courage to discuss it with frankness and sincerity, preferring rather to 'run with the hare and hunt with the hounds,' in an indefinite desire to appear both ultra-humane and ultra-chivalrous! "duels have always existed, still exist, and will continue always to exist, whatever may be said against them and whatever measures may be taken to do away with them. i will even go so far as to say that they must exist, as long as the moral status of society does not rise above its present level, as long as our culture does not grow broader." "is it not strange that no one will deny my right, revolver in hand, to defend my watch or my money against the assaults of a burglar? why then am i to be denied the right to defend my honour in the same fashion? besides, in defending my honour, i am defending society--for indeed it would be unthinkable to live in a world where honour could find no defender! [illustration: alexander kirÉeff] "does it not seem strange and illogical to admit the defence of one's minor worldly goods and to forbid that of the most precious of all treasures? { } we who believe in duels attack nobody--we only defend ourselves against attack. let no one attack us, and we shall be as silent as deep waters, as unobtrusive as grass. the priceless treasure of our honour may be, in the opinion of others, an illusion, an abstract nothing that has no set value on markets and exchanges--but to us, it is precious. leave us in peace. we do not ask you to abandon your utilitarianism, your financial materialism, we do not in fact interfere with _your_ ideals, cannot you let us abide, unmolested, by _ours_? "it is obvious, of course, that while defending duelling as a system, i do not for a moment deny the many undesirable factors that cannot be prevented from occasionally creeping into it. the ideal duel would be one in which the combatants would take upon themselves the defence not of personal, but of public and social interests and rights. such a high level is, of course, hard to attain, but the element of personal revenge can nevertheless be considerably diminished. "we hear on all sides that duelling is no better than murder, that duellists are brainless and thoughtless, that none but a fool could, in our enlightened age, mistake such a mad, meaningless savagery for chivalry. poor duels, and poor irresponsible duellists! were pouschkin and lermontoff, those victims of offended honour, really such fools? and bentham, and the great socialist lassalle himself? no--on certain conditions, duels are inevitable, and not one of my opponents in this matter will ever produce or invent anything better to take their place." after quoting these passages from various of my { } brother's private letters and articles, i insist upon adding that i have never seen a man more courteous, polite and universally esteemed than he. two of our old generals--general fock and general smirnoff--who distinguished themselves by their courage in the japanese war, quarrelled and found no one better able to arbitrate between them than alexander kiréeff. their confidence in him was unlimited, but he understood that the question was of vital importance, and that a duel was unavoidable. both combatants asked him to be present at the duel, and to see that the russian duelling laws were strictly adhered to, which he did. general smirnoff was wounded, but both recognised that my brother did all he could to bring about a reconciliation. if he failed, it only showed that certain tragic elements in life will take place in spite of all our efforts to prevent them. i may add that my brother, equipped as he was with his chivalrous code of honour, was also an expert fencer, so distinguished indeed that, at a public fencing competition at naples open to the whole of europe, he carried off the first prize--a gold sword of honour. but i am glad to say that never once did he engage in a duel. apart from being in favour of duelling, kinglake was, although in himself essentially a man of peace, all for war; it thinned out populations, just as duelling kept up a better tone in society. i, on the other hand, the daughter of a man who earned the st. george's cross on the battlefield, the sister of two soldiers, and the wife of another, was always dreaming of peace. { } my own idea is that no generation that has suffered a great war ever wants another. that is left for following generations who cannot conceive the horrors of what they themselves have not experienced. whenever i was absent from england i always received from kinglake a weekly letter. i remember his once complaining that writing to a lady through the poste restante was like trying to kiss a nun through a double grating. sometimes he would imitate the "little language" of the great satirist swift, calling himself "poor dear me," and referring to me as "my dear miss." thereby hangs a story. on one occasion at dinner hayward told a characteristic anecdote which, although it seemed to amuse the other ladies present, caused me considerable embarrassment. kinglake afterwards said to me: "i thought you were a hardened married woman; i shall henceforth call you 'miss.'" he was a very sweet, lovable man, old in years but a youth in heart. his letters were full of gaiety and persiflage. once he wrote to me: "hayward can pardon you having an ambassador or two at your _feet_, but to find the way to your _heart_, obstructed by a crowd of astronomers, russ-expansionists, metaphysicians, theologians, translators, historians, poets--this is more than i can endure." he was never tired of rallying me about my callers and friends, insisting that i was a _grande dame_ to whom all the really great in the land came to { } make obeisance. once when staying at sidmouth he wrote: "mrs. grundy has a small house there, but she does not know me by sight. if madame novikoff were to come, the astonished little town, dazzled first by her, would find itself invaded by theologians, bishops, ambassadors of deceased emperors, and an ex-prime minister." when he gave me his photograph, and i gave him mine, he referred to the transaction as "an exchange between the personified months of may and november." on one occasion _the times_ inserted, to kinglake's great indignation, a statement that i had been obliged to leave england. shortly afterwards chinery, the editor, happened to seat himself at the same table with kinglake at the athenæum club. kinglake immediately rose and moved to another part of the room. "so unlike me," was his comment; "but somehow a savagery as of youth came over me in my ancient days; it was like being twenty years old again." later, however, he discovered that froude had been indirectly responsible for the paragraph, and kinglake immediately found means of conveying to chinery his regrets. poor dear "eothen's" mind was powerful and bright to his last day. i called on him frequently during his last days, and it was not until the end, which came on january nd, , that i realised the extent of my loss. for one thing there is, in the englishman's eyes, { } nothing more sacred on earth than the person and property of an englishman. it would be well if some of our russian officials would follow the example of their english friends. it is a praiseworthy and unquestioned fact that all englishmen at home and abroad are penetrated by a personal sense of their duty towards each other. everything english must be defended and encouraged, every englishman must be helped and protected. such patriotic _esprit de corps_ and solidarity makes one sometimes feel quite envious, and indeed i have often noticed the very natural smile of incredulous surprise with which english people regard the so-frequently-met-with indifference shown by certain russian officials towards russian affairs. an amusing example comes to my mind in connection with lord napier of ettrick, a former british ambassador at petrograd, and a great friend of mine. lord napier called on me one day, and greeted me with a humorous glance. "i have just been to see your governor-general," he said, smiling. "what funny people there are in the world! i went on business about some englishman who came to me a few days ago with a complaint against a russian. i was too busy to occupy myself with the matter, so thought i would hand it over to the local authorities. the governor-general, however, didn't give me time to say much--before i had explained anything, he interrupted me with the warmest assurances that i need have no fears whatever,--that the russians would be punished, and the englishman given full satisfaction for whatever offence he may have suffered." { } "i considered it my duty," continued lord napier, "to make it quite clear to the governor-general that i knew nothing about the rights of the matter and that it was necessary to look into the facts. after all, the englishman might be in the wrong, or the whole thing might be an invention! but really, i had the greatest difficulty in persuading our friend to consider such a possibility! is not my impartiality praiseworthy? are you not pleased?" and lord napier smiled questioningly. we both laughed, and i thought it best to treat the incident as a good joke--but actually, i confess that its humour by no means appealed to me! let me draw a parallel: a few years ago a woman of doubtful nationality was arrested by the russian authorities in warsaw. she immediately wailed out that she was of british extraction, and made a theatrical appeal "to the english nation," through the medium of some english newspaper correspondent. without making the smallest attempt at investigating the circumstances, the whole of great britain was up in arms and astir with anger and indignation. excited meetings and demonstrations followed through the length and breadth of the land, while the newspapers filled their columns with foolish unfounded libels on russia. the whole agitation only ended with the official report of the british consul in warsaw, announcing the emperor's pardon, by which the originator of all this agitation was allowed to return to her country. it is indeed a happy fact that no englishman or englishwoman need ever fear to travel in any { } country where there exists a british embassy or consulate. every british subject knows that wherever he may be, there is someone who can, in case of need, protect and defend him, and that once he has announced his nationality he has nothing more to fear. all this only makes one repeat the wish that our russian officials might somehow be induced to show more interest in their fellow-countrymen, and, in their international relations, to follow closely and fearlessly the admirable example of our great ally england. it appeared to us russians that england was always on the look out for something to magnify into an international incident. as i write, i am reminded of another incident where the sacredness of the person of british subjects was demonstrated. this was the dogger bank affair. although the circumstances are well known, i will recapitulate them. russia was at war with japan, and her baltic fleet was on the way to the far east. on the night of october st- nd, , fifty british trawlers, manned by some five hundred men, were engaged in fishing on the dogger bank. the first division of the baltic fleet passed them, the second division turned their searchlights upon the fishing boats. the officers in charge imagined that they saw torpedo boats approaching. they immediately opened fire on the trawlers with quick-firing guns, and in the course of twenty minutes had fired some three hundred shots. their gunnery was not very good, however, as fortunately only six of the boats were hit, one being sunk. two fishermen were { } killed, and four wounded. the russian fleet then steamed away to the south. unfortunately the officers of this scratch fleet seemed to have been suffering from nerves, but that did not, i think, justify the outcry raised in this country. i wrote to the press, drawing attention to a similar mistake that had occurred in , in which the position had been reversed. it was on the occasion of the joint international forces that were being sent from tientsin to peking at the time of the boxer revolt. about midnight on june a body of russian sailors were returning on foot from their work. some english sailors, believing them to be boxers, opened fire from the railway carriages. before the mistake had been discovered two russians had been killed and several others wounded. vice-admiral seymour, who was in command of the british forces, hastened to send an official letter of regret, which was immediately accepted, and there the matter ended. there was no outcry in the russian press--we understood and accepted the englishman's word. { } chapter xiv the phantom of nihilism england's sympathy with the nihilists--cabinet ministers' indiscretion--mr. gladstone's incredulity--i prove my words--mr. gladstone's action--a strange confusion--a reformed nihilist--his significant admission--the nihilist's regret--the death of revolutionary russia--the greatness of the future--the reckless, impulsive russian--the russian refugees at buenos ayres--they crave for a priest once upon a time the newspapers in great britain devoted quite a considerable space to nihilism, almost invariably writing of it with considerable sympathy and very little insight. if the editors, in whose papers many "illuminating" articles appeared, were to imagine those self-same articles written to-day in russian newspapers with the single alteration of the word "nihilism" into "sinn feinism," they would understand something of the feelings their articles aroused in the hearts of russians. as an illustration of the fascination that the internal affairs of russia seemed to possess for englishmen, i may tell a little story which at the time caused me and other russians no little annoyance. there was a paper that used to reach me more or less regularly entitled _free russia_. it was the organ of the english society of russian freedom, and its amiable object was "to destroy the russian { } government." in other words, it was nihilistic. i believe the publication started in the autumn of . as soon as i discovered its purpose i used to drop it into the waste-paper basket without a second thought. one day, however, i happened to glance at the title page, on which i found were printed the names of the general committee of the friends of russian freedom, and to my astonishment i found there the names of the rt. hon. arthur ackland, m.p., and the rt. hon. g. j. shaw-lefevre, m.p. (who became lord eversley), and mr. thomas burt, m.p. the two first-named were members of mr. gladstone's ministry. [illustration: church built by alexander novikoff on his father's grave at novo-alexandrofka] by a curious chance, on the day of my discovery lady spencer was holding a reception, and there i saw mr. gladstone. i am afraid rather impetuously i burst into reproaches at the conduct of two of his ministers. he was incredulous, and asked me to send him proofs. i promised that i would, but alas! i found the waste-paper basket had been cleared, and the paper destroyed. this was the next morning. what was i to do? it was a miserable, foggy day. i hate london fogs, but i was determined to convince mr. gladstone. i therefore went into the city, and anyone who goes into the city on a foggy day must be either a lunatic or a patriot, i told myself. the only redeeming feature of that uncomfortable morning was that i proved conclusively that the circulation of _free russia_ must be a very small one. i had two hours' hard work before at last i ran a copy to earth. returning home i wrote to mr. gladstone in great triumph, and the result was that i received a letter from him which showed his uncompromising disapproval. he wrote: { } "it appears to me that a minister in our country has no title to belong to a political society in another. let him look to his own affairs--here, at any rate, these give us enough, and more than enough, to do." mr. gladstone went on to say that his colleagues, mr. lefevre and mr. ackland, were of his opinion, and that he did not propose to worry about mr. burt unless i wished it, as he was not a minister. i fancy there must have been a disapproving look in mr. gladstone's eye, and a stern note in his voice when he interviewed his ministers. oh dear, if english people had only refrained from directing that vast fund of sympathy which they undoubtedly possess towards nihilists and men whose sole object is destruction and what the germans call 'frightfulness'! i once said, and i believe it to be true, that as a rule the only thing known in england about russians is that they take lemon with their tea. there were some, even, who went to the length of asserting, always taking good care to add that their information came from unimpeachable sources, that "panslavism and nihilism went hand in hand." imagine the astonishment of the british imperialists if they were told on the best authority that "imperialism and sinn feinism went hand in hand!" what a calumny! what are the tenets of panslavism? religion, autocracy, and nationality. these three motives, according to us, are not only united but indissoluble. they form the very essence of our creed, of our life. in fact we are the opposite pole to the nihilists, who hate every idea of god, { } who detest autocracy and despise nationality! the hostility between these two lies in their nature. there can be no compromise between them. the russian people abhor the nihilists, who are perfectly aware of that feeling. i am told that some years ago a judge offered a nihilist the alternative of being left to lynch law, upon which the prisoner fell on his knees and implored to be punished by the existing russian laws. all the russians who deserve that name, who are devoted to their church and their country, are particularly devoted to the present emperor. they trust, they love him; they appreciate his noble and generous qualities, his extreme kindness, and his self-sacrifice. anything done to injure him injures the whole of russia. it needs, in truth, no effort on the part of the panslavists to be devoted to nicholas ii. i have seen it stated that the peasants, disappointed with not receiving a new distribution of land at the last coronation, form a fertile ground for nihilism. this is not the case. the nihilists have long ago given up the hope of spreading their diabolical doctrines among the rural classes. if they got hold of a few peasants--thank god! very few indeed--those "converts" of theirs have abandoned their plough and have been perverted in some public school only by a semblance of science. it is a fatal tendency, which is to be deplored and deprecated in all the public establishments in russia as well as in foreign countries, that very young people, even children, are allowed to discuss and twaddle on politics, instead of studying their grammars and their geography! with that tendency { } mistakes and false doctrines are unavoidable; any mischievous teacher may easily take hold of them and turn them into flexible tools. people are misinformed about the hardships of compulsory military service, which gives every year, even in time of peace, a contingent of about , , which is much below the number required by the army. russia has never shown herself anxious to fight. in fact she has had fewer wars than her neighbours. from the crimean war in till the year she fought only one serious war with a european power. in the course of this time france had two--in with austria, in with germany; prussia two--in with austria, in with france; austria two--in with france, in with germany. so there is no actual ground for pitying the russian soldiers more than any other. of course, every soldier risks being killed. that is not, however, the speciality of my countrymen alone. all the great european countries, even great britain herself has been forced to sacrifice her ideals victim to emergency. people often talk of the difficulty of an autocratic government in crushing revolutions. is this really so? are the years of ' and ' meaningless or forgotten? surely not in france, not in germany, not in austria, or italy! the form of government has nothing to do with plots and assassinations. the prototype of a constitutional monarch was undoubtedly louis philippe, who during his eighteen years' reign had to face eighteen attempts directed against his life. the emperor louis napoleon had { } about ten; and the president of the united states, even his life is not unassailable. the assassination of lincoln and mckinley are full of meaning. there is an old english saying, "set a thief to catch a thief." i would say, "learn from an ex-nihilist what nihilism really means." in mr. leon tikhomirov, an able author and accomplished scholar, who had been led into nihilism, in a pamphlet entitled _why i have ceased to be a revolutionist_, publicly recanted his former faith. this act on the part of one of its most prominent and active members spread something like dismay in the nihilist camp. "a great misfortune has befallen us, brethren, a very great one," was the beginning of an open letter addressed by a contemporary nihilist to his political co-religionists. "yes, a great misfortune," he exclaims again, with russian frankness at the conclusion of his epistle. from the nihilistic point of view the event referred to was undoubtedly a very great loss, a most serious "misfortune." i did not then know mr. tikhomirov personally, but he has since become a great friend of mine. alter leaving the kertch gymnasium with the gold medal, he entered a russian university, where he took a foolish part in one of the students' riots, and in the propaganda. four years' prison life was the result of those follies. the pamphlet which contains his confession is notable for its tone of extreme honesty and sincerity. in all christian charity we are bound to sympathise with him who repents. "do not strike a man on the ground" is a good proverb which should have a { } practical application. in mr. tikhomirov the nihilist party had a talented, cultivated and probably sincere member, who sacrificed his material interests and prospects in life in order to be true to his convictions. at that time his idea, unfortunately, was that the only possible evolution for russia was--revolution. in that direction he worked and wrote for several years. the first edition of _la russie politique et sociale_ belongs to that lamentable period of his career. but the success which attended that mistaken book has not prevented its author from retracing his steps in an opposite and more worthy direction, with the result shown in his pamphlet _why i have ceased to be a revolutionist_. the unreserved sincerity of this publication is remarkable. to speak out one's mind needs much moral courage, especially when one knows that all who sympathise are far away, and that one is surrounded by people who are only too ready to impute the meanest and most despicable motives. mr. leon tikhomirov, however, faced that risk. the sketch of his moral convalescence is worth study. whilst pondering over his psychological diagnosis, one involuntarily recalls shakespeare's-- yes, indeed, none are so surely caught, when they are caught, as wit turned fool! but, fortunately, the wit is now restored. in order to render mr. tikhomirov full justice, it would be necessary to translate every line of his pamphlet; short of that, where i cannot give the words in full, i shall endeavour to carry the spirit. { } "i look upon my past with disgust," says he, and this is not surprising when the details of that past are examined. he is not influenced by any expectation of the future. having left the revolutionary party his only object now is to promote, by legitimate means, the cause of true progress; the conviction that he has been right in abandoning his former faith is only strengthened by the reproaches now heaped upon him by his former associates.... "when i was twenty," says he, "i used to write revolutionary programmes. if twenty years later i were unable to write something better, i should really have a very poor opinion of myself." still, that transition, from folly to wisdom, was not accomplished without struggle and hesitation. mr. tikhomirov frankly admits how hard it was for him to acknowledge that he was utterly wrong; that, in clinging to his theories, he held a dead body which could not be revived! he hesitated to bury it, in spite of its obvious lifelessness. "about the year ," mr. tikhomirov continues, "i, and not i alone, began to feel that our party was becoming torpid, was daily losing more and more of its vital force, which had at first seemed so great. the following year i began wondering how it was that russia was healthy and full of life, while the revolutionary movement, that very movement which, according to our ideas, was the very manifestation of national growth, was withering and decaying. this obvious contradiction reduced me to a morbid despair. i went abroad with the sole object of publishing my recollections of the events through which i had lived. since then, all the { } remains of the old organisations have perished, all, all have tumbled down! reality has given me startling lessons. one consoling hope, however, remains. i deemed it possible to rebuild our party, while remaining within it. oh, what a self-delusion that was! in reality it was i who enslaved myself, who was prevented from thinking, from meditating, as i ought to have done! still the strokes fell too heavily; their weight became intolerable. i felt we were on a wrong track, and urged lopatine and the other members of our party to search for some new paths. on finding that they would not, or could not, follow my advice, in i wrote to say that i had ceased to belong to their party, and withdrew their right to use my name. thus ended my co-operation with all their circles and organisations." there is in mr. tikhomirov's narrative a sincerity and truthfulness which appeal to our best nature. he is not melodramatic, he does not strain after theatrical effects, but he compels his reader to feel for him, almost to share his sorrow. but let us listen again to his own voice. "meditating upon recent events, i wrote in my diary of march, ' --'yes, i am definitely convinced now that revolutionary russia--taken as a serious intelligent party--does not exist. revolutionists still exist, and may make some noise. but it is not a storm, only ripples on the surface of a sea. since last year one fact seems to me perfectly obvious. all our hopes have to depend henceforth on russia, on the russian people. as to our revolutionists, hardly anything may be expected of them. i came to the conclusion that it was absolutely necessary to { } arrange my life so as to serve russia according to my own instinct, independently of any party. the nihilist party, i now see too well, can only injure russia. my common sense and my will might remain dormant, but once they awoke i had to obey them. if my former friends could leave their graves and come to life again, i would spare no effort to induce them to follow me, and then with them, or quite alone, i would take the path which i now feel to be the true one." mr. tikhomirov has much sinned, but he has also loved much. even in his revolutionary epoch, russia was still precious to him, and he was always ready to die for her unity. in that respect, to his credit be it said, he was not a model nihilist, whose creed it is to despise such "obsolete notions" as patriotism. how much freedom of thought was tolerated in those circles can be seen from the following incident. in an article intended by mr. tikhomirov for the revolutionary journal, _the popular will_, among many truisms he wrote: "russia is in a normal state, while the revolutionary party is collapsing--a fact which can only be explained by some mistakes in the programme of our party." and again: "if terrorism is recommended to a country, the vitality of that country must be very doubtful." at these sentiments, mr. tikhomirov's comrades--the other editors of the paper were thunderstruck, and peremptorily declined to admit them into their columns. this schism was the dawn of mr. tikhomirov's salvation. his better self rapidly developed. he soon recognised that the less a country at large is { } desirous of revolution, the more compelled are revolutionists to resort to terrorism. thus the weaker the cause, the stronger the necessity for terrorism, which obviously was a criminal paradox. further on, mr. tikhomirov says: "i have not given up my ideas of social justice, but they take a clearer, a more harmonious shape; riots, revolts, destruction, are all the morbid results of the social crisis which now traverses europe. these things are not easily introduced into russia. that disease has not yet reached her; nor can revolutionary movements, however temporarily pernicious, divert russia from the path of her historical development. "political murders (says he) produced a certain commotion in the russian government so long as it believed that it had to deal with a strong threatening power. the moment it was realised how wretchedly small was that handful of men who resorted to murder merely because of their weakness and inability to undertake something on a larger scale--since that moment the russian government shows no signs of any kind of anxiety. it determined upon a strong system, which it unflinchingly carries out. of course the life of the emperor and of his different officials is spoilt by the perpetual expectation of danger, but in spite of this the government will certainly never make any concessions to the terrorist. a legal government recognised by the whole country naturally objects to subordinate itself to whims.... "the russian emperor has not usurped his power. that power was solemnly conferred upon his ancestors by an overwhelming majority of the russian people, who have never since shown the { } remotest desire to withdraw that power from the romanoff dynasty. the law of the country recognises her emperor as one above any kind of responsibility, and the church of the country invests him with the title of her temporal head. "ten years of hard struggle have proved beyond possible doubt that all the revolutionists may well perish, one after the other; but russia was dead against supporting them. the life of a terrorist is a terrible one; it is that of a hunted wolf in momentary expectation of death. he suffers perpetual alarm from detectives, has to use false passports, to live in hiding, to resort to dynamite, to meditate murder.... such a life necessitates the abandonment of all matters of most vital interest. all ties of affection under such circumstances are torture. study is out of the question. everybody, except the few ringleaders, has to be deceived. an enemy is suspected on all sides. no, the best among us, had they lived long enough to see the results obtained, would not have failed to give up such a struggle. we committed a terrible crime in demoralising russian youth. one of our revolutionary chiefs--himself already doomed--to whom i expressed my present views as frankly as i am now doing, urged me to save our younger generation, and to exhort them to give up premature meddling with politics, and instead to prepare themselves for a useful life by hard study." what good advice! "think, observe, learn; do not trust words and shallow theories. that is what i now say to the inexperienced youth," says mr. tikhomirov. "i am utterly indignant," he { } continues, "when i hear remarks of the following kind: 'let them make riots. of course it is foolish, but what does it matter? there is not much weight in all these fellows, and a riot is still a protest.' for my part, i now look upon these things quite differently." after explaining at some length the stern duties of the rising generation, after earnestly entreating them to form their character and their principles, to study hard, to avoid the influence of political charlatans who simply exploit their ignorance, mr. tikhomirov goes on to say that "russia has a great past, but a still greater future." he is, however, not blind to our shortcomings, of which a very serious one among our youths is their want of prudent resistance to mischievous influences. their want of thought makes them accept every new political aphorism, however absurd. "as soon as the universities are quiet for eight or nine months," he continues, "pressure is put upon the young students to make some absurd demonstration, some riots, something, and they listen to such instigations. our censors are not infallible; but censorship is an institution whose importance is exaggerated. the principal mistake lies in ourselves. we russians have an unlimited confidence in every new theory, in every hypothesis, no matter how superficial, how foolish. the so-called 'intelligenzia' are far inferior in common sense and practical questions to the simple russian peasant, who possesses few notions, few facts, but whose mental faculties and sound judgment have not been spoilt. the fantastic element, deplorably { } developed in our middle classes, reaches its zenith amongst our revolutionists. what young revolutionists repeat now i, alas! used to think several years ago. russia would immensely gain if her young people, instead of meddling with politics, resolved to spend some five or six years on a regular course of lectures and in studying their own country, her present position, and her history. hundreds of russian undergraduates perish merely thanks to evil influences from without." this, unfortunately, is only too true. such instigators have neither pity nor judgment. any kind of riot equally serves their purpose, provided it makes mischief and commits foolish reckless boys. mr. tikhomirov, describing the difference between the students of and , shows how superior were those of the former year. their aspirations were much higher. he relates an anecdote which is charmingly characteristic: "some undergraduates of the old school were engaged in an animated discussion one day when dinner was announced. 'how can you disturb us?' reproachfully exclaimed one of the orators, who afterwards became a celebrated russian writer. 'we are just settling the existence (das sein) of god, and you summon us to ... dinner.'" what mr. tikhomirov says about the duties of a citizen may be endorsed by every wise patriot. "from the question of culture i now pass to that of autocracy. whatever constitutes a man's general views, the moment he proclaims himself as opposed to the tsar he belongs to the welcome set, he is 'one of ours.'" { } this reminds one of the irishman who, on landing in america, declared: "i do not know what is the form of government here, but i am against it." let mr. tikhomirov, however, continue his own story: "if you point out the unreasonableness of this view, if you convict him of extreme ignorance, you are met with the protest, how can a man be cultivated as long as there exists in russia an autocrat! unfortunately, such views may be sincere. to my great regret, at one time i used to share them myself. but now what pain they give me! in the first place, no form of government is able to prevent intellectual culture when the people are sincerely anxious to acquire it. besides, let us refer to history. were not peter the great and the great catherine autocrats? was it not in the emperor nicholas's time that the present social ideas originated? is there any republic in the world which has carried out such great reforms as those of alexander ii? i regard autocracy in russia as the result of our history, which cannot and ought not to be abolished so long as tens of millions desire nothing else. i deem unjust, unwise and useless the presumption to interfere with the wishes of a great nation. every russian desiring to carry out reforms should do so under the shelter of the autocratic power. has autocracy prevented poushkin, gogol, tolstoy, etc. etc., from developing the greatest possible progress in literature? "for argument's sake, suppose that some russian emperor consented to impose limits upon his powers. such concession would be only apparent, not real. { } at the slightest hint an enormous majority of the people would disperse the handful of men who ventured to restrict the unlimited power of their tsar. what every country needs above all is a strong and stable government, which firmly carries out its programme. russia needs this even more than any other country. the parliamentary system, although it has some good sides, has proved itself most unsatisfactory--a fact which our critics of autocracy should keep firmly in mind. unfortunately, our young generation behave in a way to drive a rational statesman mad. one day they take part in a polish insurrection: another day they try to organise a reign of terror. like true fanatics, they display a passionate energy, a remarkable self-sacrifice. it is simply deplorable!" mr. tikhomirov insists over and over again upon the necessity for sound learning and right thinking. in a footnote he still further develops this idea. insisting upon the evils of half-culture: "i do not mean," he explains, "the small amount of information--a peasant is still less informed--but it is the manner of foolishly adopting anything said by others--on faith, without reflection--which is so fatal. it is the want of mental discipline which i lament." mr. tikhomirov's sketch is of great psychological interest. it throws a true light on russian nature. russians, unfortunately, are too impulsive, not to be often misled--which, of course, is deplorable. with all this there lies in their heart of hearts a deep affection for their country, their church, their traditions, their customs, their language--in fact, { } everything russian. to them "_ubi bene, ibi patria_," is a faulty phrase; there is no place where they can be happy when they are banished, when they are anathematised by their native land. certain feelings are stronger than arguments. i may be perhaps allowed to quote a case in point. some years ago a colony of russian refugees whose life, for some political reason or other, became uncomfortable in russia, emigrated to buenos ayres. they deemed it would be quite easy to acclimatise themselves anywhere. little by little, however, they discovered, with acute pain, that their soul craved for their former faith. at last they appealed to the representative of the russian government, begging him to secure for them a russian greek orthodox priest, offering to build a church and to provide all the necessary means for supporting the clergy. the russian government did not hesitate to acquiesce. the reverend father ivanoff, a brilliant theological student, sympathising also with the request, hurried across the seas to undertake this novel duty. yes! it is easy sometimes to be an absentee, but it must be intolerable to feel oneself a renegade! from this reproach mr. tikhomirov is now rescued. "there is more joy over one sinner that repenteth than over ninety and nine just men who need no repentance." the russian authorities, however, were not at once convinced of the genuineness of mr. tikhomirov's recantation. but when all the official documents supported his statements, he was allowed to return to russia at once. { } chapter xv russian prisons and prisoners our convict system--misunderstood in england--siberia, an emigration field--a lax discipline--capt. wiggins' opinion--a land of stoicism--my experiences as a prison visitor--divine literature--helen voronoff's work--a russian heroine--her descriptions of prison life to the englishman the word "siberia" seems to possess a significance so sinister as to make death appear almost a luxury; but imprisonment and the conditions under which the prisoners live are entirely comparative. to condemn a gourmet to live on roast beef and cabbage would be a punishment much greater than to sentence a farm labourer to live on porridge and black bread. in england our "atrocious convict system" has been a subject for much comment. i think very few people in england have any conception of what siberia really is. some, i have no doubt, who speak most freely about it, would be in some difficulty if they were asked to describe where it is. as a matter of fact it is the northern half of the continent of asia, greater in area than the whole of europe. the north is almost uninhabitable, but we do not send our criminals to the north, but to the fertile south. { } it is mostly in the fertile south that our present colonies exist. we used to send to the quicksilver mines only the worst criminals and murderers, with whom i do not think even english people would have much sympathy. after all, would a man prefer to work in a quicksilver mine or to be hanged? another very important point is that transportation to siberia does not necessarily involve imprisonment. in some cases the convicts are turned loose to look after themselves, and are allowed to go whither they will, provided they do not attempt to return to european russia. moreover, the families of the convicts used also to be transported at the expense of the government--which was, of course, a great consolation to them. but now the whole system of transportation to siberia has been abolished. we wish to do with them just what england strove to do with her criminals in the first half of last century--get rid of them. they are undesirable citizens, and as all good government is the greatest good to the greatest number, the best thing that can happen is to get the criminal population away from the non-criminal, so that one does not contaminate the other. in the old days the english convict was compelled to work under the penalty of "the cat" or the gallows. on the other hand, the russian convict is sent into siberia, and there he can do what he chooses, short of actual crime. as a matter of fact, in russia there is a strong feeling in certain quarters that our convicts have too much liberty. let me bring the matter nearer home. suppose { } instead of being sent to portland and shut up in a grim and gloomy building, english prisoners were sent to the extreme north of scotland and given their liberty, and told they must not come further south than a certain point, is there any question as to which of the two they would choose? if english people could be persuaded to regard siberia as a huge field for emigration, they would understand things much better, and in sending our convicts there we serve a double purpose--that is to say, we get rid of them, and we are colonising the country that an englishman has described as "offering unique advantages to a young man with a small capital." the proportion of prisoners sent to siberia per annum is about one in every five thousand of the population, not a very high average i think. in england and wales, i believe, the average is vastly higher. to give some idea of the lack of constraint on the liberty of the convict, i will give some particulars of escapes. on one occasion, when a census was taken of the convicts in tobolsk, out of some fifty thousand exiles only about thirty-four thousand could be found. at tomsk, five thousand were missing out of thirty thousand. there is one very serious drawback to our system, that is our method of pitchforking convicts into siberia without arranging for their occupation, and the result is that a large number of them refuse to take to honest labour, and become good-for-nothings. { } siberia is not a holiday resort. no one could possibly regard it as challenging the riviera, for instance; its primary object is to rid european russia of her criminal population, and in this it succeeds. the redoubtable captain wiggins has described the convicts in siberia as "a happy, rollicking, joyous community--well clad, well fed, and well cared for." i do not propose to comment on this, but shall leave the matter between the british public and the shade of captain wiggins. some may be inclined to recall a passage from sir thomas browne which runs (i quote from memory), "there be those who would credit the relations of mariners." in the past there has been a tendency in england to look for archangelic qualities in her neighbours, and she has been a little hurt at not finding them. once when writing to me in , mr. gladstone said: "the history of nations is a melancholy chapter, that is, the history of their governments. i am sorrowfully of opinion that, though virtue of splendid quality dwells in high regions with individuals, it is chiefly to be found on a large scale with the masses; and the history of nations is one of the most immoral parts of human history." i have heard it stated of mr. gladstone that he was too true a gentleman to be a good politician. upon that i will venture no comment beyond saying that i am convinced that he never did anything in his life actuated by any other idea than that it was right. { } the same morality that applies in private life never has and probably never will apply to governments, and to expect perfection in relation to the treatment of prisoners in siberia, or of chinese labour in south africa, is out of the question. i cannot do better than quote here what i said in my introduction to _siberia as it is_, by harry de windt: "to form a proper opinion of the russian prisons, it is necessary to possess, what english people certainly do not possess, some knowledge of the ordinary conditions of life in our country. a preface to any book on russia ought, in fact, to be somewhat of an introduction into the penetralia of our innermost existence. but in giving real facts about our country, i have the feeling of printing advertisements about ourselves--to us russians a very antipathetic work indeed. "russia is, over a great extent, a land of stoicism, fortified by christianity--not a bad basis for the formation of character, after all, but it is a hard school. our country life is an important study. it is full of self-denial, of hardships, of privations. indeed, in some parts peasant life is so hard that we, the so-called upper classes, could scarcely endure it. "landed proprietors are generally in close intercourse with their ex-serfs. the latter, though now perfectly free and themselves landowners, from the fact that their former masters have at heart their welfare, naïvely think that the latter are still under obligation to furnish help when needed. this somewhat amusing relationship is generally accepted good-naturedly by the ex-masters, though very often { } it involves great material sacrifices. we could all give our personal experiences of village life, and i, for one, venture to do so, though there are many others better qualified. "to visit the sick and the poor is a common duty recognised by a great many in our country, although the discharge of this duty sometimes is rather an ordeal. how overcrowded and dark are their dwellings! how poor their daily food! (the only approach to the condition that i know of in the united kingdom is in the poverty-stricken districts of ireland and in some corners of the east end of london.) yet those who lead that rough life seem strong and happy, on the whole. they will make merry jokes, and after a long day's heavy work, from sunrise to sunset, return home from the fields, singing and dancing. "injudicious and indiscriminate charity would do harm here as elsewhere. in illustration of this, i will mention the following from my own experience: "my son, when appointed zemski natchalnik (zemski chief), built a church over his father's grave and founded two schools for training male and female teachers on our tamboff estate. "the principal local representatives of the church and the chiefs of our local school inspectors were invited to discuss the programme of the teaching and management of these schools--one for boarders, future primary school teachers, with a class for daily pupils of the parish. they used to be almost free of charge before the emancipation of the serfs. so were both my son's schools. but now--since they depend on the holy synod--education has { } to be paid for. the yearly seminarian's fee for board, dress and education is £ yearly. the girls' (future school mistresses) fee is £ --but they will soon be increased. all our schools for the people are, and have always been, free of charge. "the educational scheme met with almost unanimous approval, but when the boarding arrangements came to be discussed, with suggestions about 'light mattresses and pillows,' they were met by a general outburst of disapproval. "'here you are wrong. why should you spoil them, and make them unfit for their usual life, by accustoming them to unnecessary luxuries? the utmost you should provide, as a comfort for peasant boys, is some straw, and a plain bench to sleep on. nothing more.' i may add, that this stoic simplicity partly accounts for their bravery. "it may perhaps interest my readers to know that there is such a thirst for learning amongst our peasant children that candidates come in overwhelming numbers, and this happens to all our educational institutions--they are overcrowded to the last degree. the population increases more quickly than church and school accommodation for it. that inconvenience is also noticeable with regard to the children of our prisoners. but to people accustomed to a very hard life, would it be a punishment if, instead of suffering discomfort for their crimes, they were surrounded with what to them would appear extreme luxury? where is one to draw the line between necessaries and luxuries? a prison ought to be a punishment, not a reward for crimes. { } "in visiting the prisons i have heard the remark that some of the convicts would not have committed their misdeeds had they possessed at home half the comforts provided in the prisons, though, of course, the privation of every liberty is already a terrible punishment. they also know that whilst they are away, good care is taken of their children. i remember a female prisoner, who had to suffer a year's punishment for theft and smuggling, whose looks of distress and misery forcibly struck me. knowing that she was near the end of her term, i asked how it was that she did not look happier. "'i am pining for my boy; i feel sure he is dead. i wrote to him twice, but he never replied,' answered she, sobbing. 'he was taken up as a beggar and a vagabond by the beggars' committee.' "'well,' said i, 'since you can tell me where he may be found, i will go and see him at once, and you shall know the exact truth about him. wait patiently till i come back.' "off i went to the 'beggars' institution,' which is a branch of the prisons, though geographically a great distance away, and had the boy brought to me. he looked clean and healthy. "'your mother sends you her blessing,' i began; 'she is in good health, but grieves that you never answered her letters. have they not reached you?' "'oh yes, they have, but i cannot write. i began learning here, and can only write o's and pothooks.' "as i always provide myself with writing materials on visiting the prisons, and am always ready in deserving cases to write letters, dictated to { } me by illiterate prisoners, i offered my services to the little beggar boy. "he seemed radiant. 'yes, tell her that i am very well fed here, three times every day. food plentiful.' "'what else?' asked i. 'would you not like to see your mother? don't you go to church every sunday, and don't you pray for her?' "'oh yes. tell her to come to live with me here.' "you should have seen the joy of the mother when i brought her this very undiplomatic despatch, and the interest created amongst her fellow-prisoners! "to help the wretched is a pleasure thoroughly appreciated by russians. it is absurd to preach to us charity and compassion. we are brought up in those notions from our childhood. christianity with us is not a vague term; it represents a very clear 'categorical principle' which forms a link between all of us, from the emperor down to the humblest peasant. our highest classes are very well represented in that respect. first comes our empress marie, the present dowager empress, who is the soul of charity and compassion. i never heard of any appeal made to her in vain. nor could anybody, i think, be kinder than the emperor. his aunt, the grand duchess constantine, notwithstanding the endless demands on her generosity, once undertook to feed a thousand famine-stricken peasants in our district till next harvest. i could also give other examples from amongst the imperial family. { } "then, coming to a lower rank, we had, for instance, the procurator of the holy synod, m. pobédonostzeff, and his wife. the latter, though far from strong in health, takes care of a large school, visiting it almost daily. with the support and sympathy of her husband, she collected large sums every year in order to send to the prisoners of sakhalin (our worst criminals) quantities of clothes, useful tools, tobacco and toys, writing materials and religious books. our lower classes only care for 'divine literature,' as they call it. religious books are in great demand in every part of russia, which helps to defeat nihilistic teaching, and saves the people from that criminal folly. "or take another well-known case: a man of good birth and worldly prospects, a distinguished moscow professor, serge ratchinsky, who, without any of that self-advertisement which seems to be the necessary stimulus to similar efforts in western europe, buried himself in the country, and there founded a school which has served as a model for ten or twelve other schools in the same province, and which he superintends and guides with fatherly care, and in strictly greek orthodox views. he also organised a large temperance movement, which is now spreading throughout russia. "i could give numerous instances to show that philanthropy, far from being unknown, is widely practised in russia. in fact, it permeates all our work, including the prisons. "our great empress, catherine ii, used to say: 'better pardon ten criminals than punish one innocent.' this became a favourite saying with us, { } and perhaps accounts for the leniency of our juries, which is often carried too far. for what right have we to endanger the public safety by allowing crime to reign unchecked? "in england murderers are quietly hanged. according to us, this is going too far. how are you to manifest christian compassion and love to sinners when they are so quickly and definitely disposed of? "what chance have they to repent? capital punishment is repellent to public feeling in russia, and has been used in cases which, thank god! were quite exceptional and extremely rare. with us, only the very worst crimes are punished with imprisonment for life. even for these it may at all events be said, 'while there is life there is hope.' "very great improvements have been introduced in our prison system. more are to follow. we see our shortcomings better than ignorant _dilettante_ critics, whose only object is to excite artificial indignation. "these questions are very important and complicated; but, as thiers used to say, '_prenez tout au sérieux, rien au tragique_.'" it is difficult to write of russian prisons without reference to the work of my great friend, helen voronoff. it has been said, and nothing could be truer, that her whole existence might have been summed up in the three words, "all for others." she killed herself by her devotion to her self-imposed duty as an angel of light in the gloomy recesses of russian prisons. [illustration: miss helen voronoff] the first years of her life were devoted to teaching, but in she turned her attention to another { } sphere of activity that had long attracted her, and which turned out to be her life's mission: the bringing of comfort and hope and spiritual light into the lives of criminals in prisons, more especially of political offenders. in spite of her weak health, and of the fact that she had already in her early youth been condemned to death by her doctors, she exhibited the most extraordinary physical and moral energy, and looked upon all fatigue in connection with her work simply as an unavoidable and unimportant detail in the carrying out of her divine mission. she never hesitated before those excessively tiring and depressing journeys to the schlüsselbourg fortress, and other prisons, before wanderings through cold dark cells, and keeping long vigils at the bedsides of the dying. her influence among the prisoners was so beneficent, that the authorities, in all cases, allowed her to come and go as she pleased, and to visit even the most dangerous criminals in their solitary confinement cells. on one particular occasion that comes to my mind, two gaolers seriously opposed themselves to her entering a certain cell alone, since the prisoner confined there was a ruffian who literally boasted of having killed twelve persons, and whom it seemed most dangerous for an unprotected woman to approach. miss voronoff would not even listen to the gaolers. "i must go to him quite alone," she insisted. "your presence would show mistrust on my part and would only wound his feelings." on her entry, the criminal looked up in surprise. { } "why have you come here alone?" he growled. "i have killed twelve people. are you not afraid that i shall kill you too?" "there is no reason why you should do that," was the quiet reply. "i have only come because i should like to help you a little. your past sins can make no difference." the prisoner seemed taken aback, and gradually allowed himself to be drawn into a conversation that lasted more than half an hour, after which, when his visitor rose to go, this rough outcast, touched and softened, begged her to come again. between her visits to the various prisons, miss voronoff spent all her time in correspondence and interviews with the relatives of the prisoners, and in untiring efforts to alleviate their sufferings and soften their fate. many indeed are the bright moments that this consoling angel brought into the darkness of those hopeless lives! miss voronoff left behind her (she died only recently) an interesting book of sketches entitled _among the prisoners_. never was a book published more worthy of being described as a human document. it is full of the charm and goodness of one saintly personality reacting upon the victims of a great tragedy. the following quotations that i have made from this book are so illuminating as to russian character that they require no apology or explanation:-- "it was not until after a lapse of six years that i was once more able to visit the wiborg cellular prison, in the consumptive ward of which i first began to work for poor prisoners. then i was in { } the company of princess maria dondoukoff-korsakoff. now, this noble woman has gone to her reward, but everything around seemed to speak to me of her. there was not a bed in that ward upon which she had not sat (she seldom, if ever, used the chairs provided, feeling that in this way she was nearer to the patient). and many a sufferer had she comforted. laying her hand upon his shoulder or his head, she would speak words which, delivered in her sweet and affable voice, could not fail to reach his heart. ah! how many a heart was softened, how much physical pain relieved, how many souls gained back to god by her sweet ministrations! "and now, with these dear memories crowding upon me, i visited once again the wiborg cellular prison. "it has been much improved; now there are two wards for consumptive patients, whereas formerly there was but one, which was both overcrowded and airless. in fact, the place, i remember, on one occasion was so close as to overcome the princess, who was obliged to lie down and recover before continuing her ministrations to the sick. "upon the occasion of this my first visit to the prison after six years, a touching incident occurred, which i should like to recall. "upon entering the ward i saw at once that there were three there who would not be long upon this earth, for they remained motionless as i advanced. but the others brightened up at my coming, trying to check their troublesome coughs, and even, where strong enough, raising themselves to greet me. "during my conversation with them i asked if { } those so near their end had received holy communion. upon this point i was reassured, and was much comforted to see how anxious were those not yet about to die that their fellow-sufferers should receive this consolation when the end approached. "i noticed as i passed along the ward a specially young and handsome face, the face of one of the three about to breathe their last. i drew closer, and silently watched him for a few moments, fearing to rouse him, for his eyes were closed, and his breath was short and interrupted. bright red spots burnt upon his cheeks. "as i stood thus his neighbour called him, and, looking above his bed, i read the name, 'paul rostchin.' "'why do you disturb him?' i asked. the man explained that rostchin expected me, and wished to ask me something, and that when he regained consciousness he would be very sad that he had not been roused to speak to me. "'after some time, rostchin opened his eyes. i shall never forget their expression. it was a mingling of pain and hope and entreaty. he tried hard to speak, but, although his lips moved, i could hear no sound. "gently i tried to soothe him, begging him to be calm, and telling him that i was in no hurry, and would wait until i understood what it was he wished to say to me. "at last i caught one word, 'mother.' 'ah!' said i, 'you are calling your mother; you want to see her; perhaps i could find her. where does she live?' { } "'she is far from here,' he whispered, 'and cannot come.' "my heart ached for him. it was pitiful to hear him in these his last moments calling for his mother. i bent over him and said: "'your own mother, as you say, is far from here; but god has sent me to comfort you. can you not count me your spiritual mother, and confide in me, when i come to you and sit with you and listen to all you have to say?' "his face brightened at the thought, and a little strength seemed to return. 'i have something,' he said, 'to tell her before i die.' "then i begged him to say to me what he wished to say to her, promising that i would hear it as though i were his mother. hardly had i said this than the man on the bed at our right, being able to walk, got up and moved away, and the other, who was not equal to that effort, turned his back to us, that he might not hear. i was touched at the feeling displayed by these apparently rough, though simple russian men. "and then i made out from his laboured words his sad story. a good, kind, and loving mother abandoned for more than a year and a half, while he suffered in prison. his great wish now was to let her know how much he felt his guilt, and beg for her forgiveness. "i listened, holding my breath that i might catch the halting words, and as he bared his soul, and made clear the confession he wished to make, it seemed as though a great weight fell from him; and when, from sheer exhaustion, he sank back and closed his { } eyes, i knew that the tears were there, as he said brokenly, 'i shall never see her again to tell her this. i have only a few days, perhaps a week, left to live.' "i never hold out vain hopes to the poor patients when they are about to die, so, seeing how near he was to his end, i did not undeceive him. "again i asked him for his mother's address, promising to write and tell her that he was dying, and asked forgiveness, and that i would ask her to reply immediately, so that he might hear the answer before the end. the face of the dying man shone with a great joy; the forgiveness of his mother was all he sought now upon the earth. then, sinking back upon his bed, he murmured, 'if i get the answer, i shall take it with me.' "before leaving the hospital i made the sign of the cross upon his forehead. his eyes were closed, but he whispered, 'thanks, thanks.' "meeting the doctor on my way out, i inquired whether he thought it was worth while to suggest that the mother should come, or could he last so long. the doctor seemed unable to decide, saying he might live a week or he might die that day. "hurrying home, i despatched the promised letter, and for days awaited the answer. each day i telephoned to the prison for news of the dying man, and each time i received the same reply, 'he is alive, but very weak.' and this for five days. "on the sixth day, when i came home in the afternoon, my servant met me with the information that a very old woman, poorly dressed, in bast shoes and { } a wallet on her back, had been there asking for her son paul. "rostchin's mother, upon the receipt of my letter, had determined to come in person to pardon her son. as the journey cost five roubles twenty copecks, she sold all her possessions, pledging even her felt shoes, thus being forced to travel in bast shoes, in spite of the intense cold. it was her first visit to a large town; she was bewildered by all she saw; but her mother's love helped her to surmount all obstacles. "the next morning, very early, i went to her. in her anxiety to get to her son, she came to the tram with one golosh only over her bast shoe; the other she had forgotten. it was not until we were on the way that i broke the sad tidings to her that the hospital to which we were going was the hospital of a prison. 'oh! paul, paul, my beloved son. my darling! how did you get to prison?' she sobbed. 'he was a warrant officer, and now he is in prison.' "to me it was most touching that she did not once reproach him. she only pitied him without end. she warmly thanked me that i had not mentioned in my letter that he was in prison. "'oh, god! oh, holy virgin mary! let me find him alive; let me but hear one word from him; let him look on me only one moment,' prayed the old woman. "we found, on our arrival at the prison, that rostchin yet lived, but to give an adequate description of the meeting between mother and son i feel is beyond me. { } "when i led the poor woman into the room where rostchin lay, and showed her the bed on which he was stretched, she staggered, and would have fallen had i not supported her. but her eyes fell on the picture of a saint, and, making the sign of the cross, she approached the bedside of her son. he was so weak that he could not even turn his head, but tears rolled down his cheeks, and the poor mother, bending over him, gazed so earnestly into his eyes that her tears fell and flowed with his. "'forgive me, forgive me, my own mother. i am very guilty,' repeated the dying man. "'my son, my dear son paul, god will forgive you,' wept the sorrowing woman. "i could stand the scene no longer, and i withdrew. when later i returned, some of the sick prisoners came up and thanked me for the great joy i had given to rostchin. "once more was i thrilled to find such feelings in these poor prisoners, themselves suffering and outcast, yet rejoicing with their fellow-sufferer. it is easy to weep with those who weep, but when one's own heart is sad and suffering, is it so easy to rejoice with those that rejoice? envy so easily creeps in. "rostchin did not live long after the visit of his mother. having received her pardon, he became calmer, asked for the clergyman, and once more received the holy sacrament. his death was that of a good christian. his sufferings were great, but he remained still in the same peaceful disposition. before he breathed his last, he repeated again and again, 'forgive, forgive!' { } "it is interesting to note that his mother did not remain until the end, but, having pardoned and blessed her son, asked to be sent back to her home. "this is characteristically russian. having satisfied herself that his soul was prepared to meet his god, she was less anxious about the dying body, asking only to be informed when god had called him away. "i let her know when all was over, and in reply received a simple and touching letter, in which she begged me to 'go to his grave, take from it a handful of earth, and send it to me.' "what treasures lie hidden in the faithful soul of the simple russian!" { } chapter xvi political prisoners dostoyevsky's call--his retort to a dandy--russia and the revolution--the court of imperial mercy--how political prisoners may solicit pardon--the coach-driver's letter--the people's belief in the emperor--a typical russian appeal--military offenders--how they have justified the emperor's clemency--political prisoners and the war the name of dostoyevsky is fortunately well known in england, so perhaps i may be allowed to relate an incident in connection with him. he called on me one afternoon and began talking of his life in siberia, and the wonderfully beneficial effect it had had upon him. we were interrupted by a flippant young dandy, just arrived from abroad, who chattered animatedly about his impressions of various ballets and theatres. i thought he would never stop, and felt rather angry. dostoyevsky, however, listened attentively, his wonderful, dark velvet eyes, with the deep expression so peculiar to them, fixed kindly on the gossiper. after a while he remarked, "i am interested in what you say. there is life in you, artistic instinct and good nature. if you could spend thirteen years in a siberian prison, as i have done, it would be most beneficial to you, and might make you a useful, energetic member of society." { } dear dostoyevsky! how often have i remembered that strange remark, and how often also have i thought that prison life indeed sometimes makes people serious, patient and religious. of late, unfortunately, one has often been haunted by questions connected with prisons. my late friend, w. t. stead, expressed the pious opinion quite seriously, how useful it would be if everybody--innocent as well as guilty--were made to spend one or two months in prison. of all horrible wars, the most horrible, i think, is internal strife, for the suppression of which, governments always use strong measures. are they to be blamed for measures taken with the object of saving their country from dismemberment? i think not--though indeed, personally, i am happy not to be obliged to mete out justice on such occasions. but then, i always think that to judge one's neighbours fairly is no easy task. when thiers had to save france from the commune, he unhesitatingly killed several thousand communards--some say , were punished, some say , , there are also people who speak of only . but who can use the word "only," when it is followed by thousands of killed? in the year , russia had the misfortune of experiencing a revolution at home. the majority of the people, of course, understood the criminal folly of that movement, and the insurgents were mostly misguided dreamers who did not realise the rascality of their leaders, such as gapon and others. many of them, indeed, afterwards looked back with deep regret and even shame, on their folly. i have { } known some of them, and it is difficult to say with what deep feeling of commiseration i listened to them, and now remember their words. if there be exaggeration and contradiction with regard to the numbers of the punished communards, there is similar difficulty in fixing the numbers of our own culprits. upon that point i am not going to insist. even one death is often the cause of endless pain. in england i have only once seen any mention of that court of appeal by which russian political prisoners who repent of their ways may solicit the imperial clemency. the exact title of that institution is "the court of petitions addressed to the emperor," or "the court of imperial mercy." it was founded in the sixteenth century in the reign of john iv, under the control of alexis adasheff (whose life and character have so brilliantly adorned the pages of russian history) and his friend and ally, the rev. father sylverst, who was another bright star of that period. but, after their disappearance from the field of action, the institution failed to be marked by the same zeal and success as previously. once more was it shown that, in every human effort, personal character plays a greater part than the written law. for, however perfect may be the law, its application must be varied by circumstances, and is thus greatly dependent upon the personal character of its administrators. fortunately, however, peter the great, with his masterly genius, recognised the importance of such a court in an autocratic country where the power of doing generous work is in the hands of a ruler who { } stands above conventional formalities, or obsolete customs, of parties or of newspapers. nor did peter the great fail to realise that an exact knowledge of real facts was of vital importance to the proper exercise of such power. to secure this, therefore, he introduced new and very drastic regulations and reforms. he made it a rule that the head of the court was to be bound by a solemn and patriotic oath of fidelity to his charge. at the same time he was to be allowed a larger initiative, by which his personal power was increased. he became entitled to delegate powers to other administrative offices and courts, by which the work of the institution became more decentralised. but although it was thus understood that appeals to the emperor personally were to be allowed only in special cases, yet little by little these personal appeals became more and more numerous, and were with difficulty controlled by the head of the court. when the empress catherine the great ascended the throne, that wonderful monarch resolved that she would personally receive all appeals to mercy. but it soon became evident that such a task was beyond the powers of even her exceptional energy. catherine herself relates that on one occasion she found it impossible to reach church, owing to the crowds of petitioners who knelt before her with petitions in their hands. such a condition of affairs, of course, could not possibly continue. in the following year the empress appointed three high officials, called state secretaries, to whom she gave detailed instructions which { } show the great pity she felt for such petitioners. the secretaries were to communicate personally with the petitioners "kindly, patiently, indulgently," and to extract from them all necessary details and explanations. for this purpose reference had sometimes to be made to the separate tribunals before whom special cases had to go. but sealed letters addressed privately and confidentially "in his majesty's own hands" (as the russian expression goes), still reach the emperor without any intervention. and this happens even now. not long ago i heard of a boy, a poor little coach-driver, who addressed a pitiful letter of this kind to the emperor alexander iii when he was in the crimea, and not only was the letter received, but the request generously granted. to return to old times, the emperor paul, while young and in good health, tried to imitate the great empress catherine, and endeavoured to come into contact with people who appealed to his mercy. to facilitate this a large, yellow iron box was attached to one of the ground-floor windows of the winter palace (petrograd) in which petitions were to be deposited. this box had to be periodically opened by the state secretaries, and the contents submitted to the emperor for orders. some, when too absurd, were partially torn and returned through the post office. others were published in the _petersburg gazette_, with the reason for their refusal. in the same emperor paul issued a rather strange ukase, forbidding the presentation of unreasonable requests. no doubt the question of what was and what was not reasonable was not an { } easy one, and the unfortunate box could hardly hold the burden of its strange correspondence. it obviously became necessary to dispense with this original method of communication. in the time of alexander i, thanks to the great speransky's efforts, a "commission of appeals" was established, and in the time of the emperor nicholas i the "court of petitions" was reformed more or less on the basis upon which it now exists. the members are appointed by the emperor himself. to their former duties have been added others relating to orphans and lunatics. certain rules have to be observed by petitioners, and they must have lived in the realm not less than one year. by the wish of his majesty the reasons for refusals to grant favours are sometimes given, but this law cannot always be observed. the emperor has recently given orders to enlarge the court's sphere of work by accepting appeals to imperial mercy for criminal charges, and administrative misdemeanours. finally, i will note the fact that in the year there were , petitions through this court, out of which , were fortunate enough to obtain the imperial order for immediate attention. as a rule there are about , petitions presented yearly. imperial benevolence (mercy) shown to children amounts to , cases in famine years. during the war his majesty ordered from the coffers of the "court of petition" no less a sum than , roubles for the wounded soldiers. "if anyone were to tell the russian people that the emperor had not the power to help them, they { } would never believe such an assertion," observed baron budberg (the late head of the petition department), "and may that belief in his majesty's power always remain with the russians." the emperor's remark on this statement was that baron budberg was right. "let those who require my mercy come to me with their sorrows in confidence." and many, many are the thousands who have been made happy--thanks to that court of appeal. people in england often talk about red tape. it is not for me to judge whether their complaints are well founded--but naturally, when one comes in contact with official pedantry, one is inclined to grumble and lose one's temper, though this as a rule does not mend matters. but to get the better of red tape--ah! that is useful and pleasant. there are occasions even when it may become a great blessing, as in the following, which i hope i may be allowed to relate: in russia, the court of appeal to mercy allows everybody to appeal to the mercy of the emperor. it is not difficult to understand that there are great differences in the nature of such appeals, and, in russia, as likewise in england, prisoners are not allowed to publish their grievances, and still less their appeals to the head of the state. however, by a very happy mistake, such an appeal from the political prisoners slipped, at the end of last year, into one of our best petrograd papers. the following is a translation of this appeal which may be of interest to english readers: "your imperial majesty, most merciful tsar. in { } this tragic hour of our beloved russia's destiny, we, the prisoners in the petrograd prison of solitary confinement, approach the footstool of your majesty's throne, our hearts full of love and boundless devotion, our suffering souls burning with prayers for the victory of our heroic russian troops. "within the walls of this prison, we are paying the penalty of our sins. we are far from our homes, far from the heart of the russian people, doomed to confinement and exile; the only light in our darkness is our faith in the mercy of god and the tsar. "it is not for us to judge of the sorrow we have caused our beloved country--but in the moment of her great trial our russian hearts beat with but one care: that of her well-being. we have, indeed, no personal cares. "we have read with tears of deep emotion these words of the imperial call: 'in this hour of trial let all internal disagreements be forgotten,' and we pray that god may move the heart of the emperor and the heart of the people, to forget also our past sins, to return to us the privilege of taking our places in the ranks of those who arise and go forth in all the fullness of their youth and strength to defend the honour and glory of our country. "it is not a lack of courage to suffer our punishment which prompts us to make this appeal for mercy; we were condemned at various times, and have never before dared to voice any such prayer--but these tragic days, in which countless numbers of our physically weaker brothers are laying down their lives on the battlefield, fill our souls with one { } profound desire. most merciful sovereign, call us into the ranks of your loyal army, and, having paid for our sins with our sufferings, we will join our brothers, inspired with an unshakable faith in your imperial goodness and mercy. "the dawn of this national war has awakened our souls, has renewed in us the sense of our duty and our right to defend russia, side by side with all russians. "may the war renew our lives for the benefit of the russian people, or accept them as an offering to our russian soil. in the silence of our solitary cells, we pray that god may save and keep your imperial majesty, and all the august imperial family." this appeal, thank god, was not overlooked by his majesty. i myself know of two cases where former prisoners were allowed to go to the war, where they acquitted themselves splendidly--so much so, that one of them, whose case is known to me, now wears the cross of st. george for bravery. a decree of his majesty has already been applied to another section of prisoners, the military offenders. this special decree gave to the commanders of the various military districts the right to take into active service for the duration of the war such of the military prisoners in their jurisdiction whom they consider deserving of the right to win, by bravery in the field, the possibility of future pardon. this right has been widely utilised, with the result that of military prisoners, had, by january st, , been taken into active service. of these, have remained under their particular { } district commanders, most of them working in munition factories, and the remaining have been distributed among various regiments at the front, and in the reserve; the actual number of military prisoners still confined is . there are, of course, criminals and criminals, and among them are many who represent a real danger to society, and who, in other countries, would be sentenced to death immediately after their trial. our legislation, however, remembers the saying of catherine the great, "better pardon ten who are guilty, than kill one who is innocent." we also think that every culprit should have time to repent, and thus to be able to meet death with greater calm, and confidence in god's pardon. after the outbreak of the great european war many political prisoners in russia made appeal to the tsar to be allowed to fight for their country against the germans. many people in russia would have welcomed a general amnesty to political prisoners for this purpose. there are among these men many who deeply regret their political mistakes and past illusions. they have offended against her laws, but still love and wish to stand by her in the hour of trial. the country would gain much by such an amnesty. new forces would doubtless rise to the surface, with new feelings of gratitude for the opportunity thus afforded them of helping russia, and of sacrificing their lives for the national cause. some ten years ago, in the days of our revolution, almost half of russia was acting, as many of us thought, mistakenly and foolishly, and making even { } serious sacrifices for this folly. fortunately, such a regrettable state of affairs did not last long, and i was soon able to dream of founding a society for the reclamation and return to russia of those who had outlived their ideas of revolution and who, after all, loved russia, right or wrong. unfortunately, this scheme met with numerous obstacles. such a society would have required not only many members, but also a cautious committee, one not liable to fall into traps--and i failed to procure them. since the beginning of the war this question has again been constantly in my mind, and i have spent many hours in discussing it with my friend, helen voronoff, and she was entirely of my opinion in the matter. we read together a most touching petition signed by political prisoners, confined in a petrograd prison. it was composed by one of themselves, and handed round among the prisoners for signature. it seems to me that such petitions should not remain unheard. { } chapter xvii the grand duke constantine and prince oleg a remarkable personality--the grand duke's graciousness--his tact and sympathy--the wounded soldier--a censored book--prince oleg and my brother alexander--a talented child--a strange premonition--the prince's interest in public affairs--his studious nature--the prince wounded--his joy on receiving the cross of st. george--he becomes worse--the end the late grand duke constantine (known in the literary world as "k.r.") was a man of remarkable character and personality, richly endowed alike in imagination and those qualities that make for friendship. he was, of course, widely known and admired for his remarkable musical and literary talents, and not in russia alone, while his famous drama, _the king of the jews_, revealed in addition a powerful intellect, combined with deep religious feeling. this greatest and last of the imperial poet's works has been translated into several foreign languages. it has awakened universal admiration, and has been enthusiastically praised by the press of most european capitals. all this, however, is too well known to need repetition. let me, therefore, turn to another and still more personal aspect of the grand duke's character: the extraordinarily attractive graciousness and the sympathetic intuition that endeared him to all who had the privilege of coming into { } intimate contact with him. here, indeed, was a precious and priceless quality--the gift of unfailing tact and exceptional intuition, the power always to say the right thing at the right moment, and to enter warmly and cordially into the thoughts and feelings of others. i will quote an instance: i am deeply devoted to the memory of my two brothers, alexander and nicolas, but, realising that this fact is of interest to no one but myself, i seldom speak of it. the grand duke, however, seemed to have read what was written in my very soul. i had the privilege of conversing with him at some length on only two occasions, but they were occasions i shall never forget. the other occasions were passing and rather superficial. the first time, he spoke to me at length of nothing but the slav question and the death of my brother nicolas. the grand duke remembered all the details of my brother's untimely end in serbia. [illustration: the grand duke constantine nicolaÉvitch] on the second occasion---alas! i was destined never to see the dear grand duke again--our conversation was dedicated to the memory of my brother alexander and to old catholicism and slavophilism, to which my brother devoted his whole life, and of which he spoke even in his very last moments. i must add that i had edited two large volumes of my brother's works in russian, but had hesitated to send them to the grand duke, contenting myself with offering him my berne editions of alexander kiréeff's french works, which, as far as i know, are unobtainable in russia. with his usual amiability, the grand duke had thanked me by letter--and { } now, how indescribably kind and charming was the manner in which he reproached me for not giving him all i had edited! there was another trait in the grand duke's character, which, to me, had a peculiar charm: i refer to his ever-ready sympathy and interest in all cases where his influence or help might be of advantage. it goes without saying that neither my brother nor myself ever appealed to this kind interference unless we had thoroughly investigated the case in question. the grand duke was aware of this, and his help was always immediately forthcoming, without any needless delays or formalities, and without a trace of the distressing red-tapeism that is elsewhere often responsible for so much mischief and sorrow. one meets with just this same kindness and compassion when one approaches our beloved emperor. one has only to be absolutely free from all egotistical aims, and to be known as were my two brothers--and once this is so, no appeal to the imperial sympathy is ever neglected or fruitless. it is, of course, exceedingly difficult to reach his imperial majesty, not only because of his exalted position as emperor, but also by reason of his being overwhelmed by work. he hardly ever limits himself to an eight-hours' day labour. an eight-hours' day would be almost a rest to our emperor. there is no trades union rule for the protection of kings. but let me return to my kind grand duke. perhaps i may be allowed to quote two incidents that took place a few weeks before his death. there had been brought to my notice a wounded soldier, { } whose case was particularly tragic. his friends considered nothing so desirable as to have him received in the hospital founded by the dowager grand duchess constantine, the mother of the grand duke. i wrote to his imperial highness on the subject, and in the course of the same day received a kind reply, informing me that the matter had been arranged and that the soldier would be at the hospital in a few hours' time. the second incident was concerned with the publication of a book. in all cases where members of the imperial family are involved, certain formalities have to be observed by our censors--failing which the book may have to be greatly altered, or suppressed. anyone connected with literary work knows that such alterations are sometimes extremely costly and troublesome. a dear friend of mine, who had very little money to spare, had written a book that was threatened with difficulties of this order. i wrote to the grand duke explaining the facts, and here again everything was immediately and satisfactorily arranged. i could give countless other instances, but the above, which i have taken at random, are sufficiently characteristic. i have often had occasion to speak of the grand duke, and have always noticed with the deepest pleasure that the mention of his name awakened everywhere, even among people who knew him but slightly, feelings of sincere affection and devotion. the fascination exercised by his personality was unfailing. his literary gifts appealed to poets, his musical talent to musicians--but to me, his most { } charming and touching quality was that deep, indescribable sympathy and insight which seemed to enable him to read people's souls. such sympathy, such intuition, is a great living force! yes--god sometimes sends into the world exceptional people, who can never be replaced, and whose very memory radiates like a warm, shining light, where their footsteps have passed. of such, unquestionably, was our never-to-be-forgotten grand duke constantine. on one occasion he wrote the following letter, which i quote as showing the charm with which he expressed himself: dear and highly-esteemed madame novikoff, again i take up the pen to thank you heartily for the new series of valuable and curious autographs, with which you so graciously enriched my collection, that i already owe to your generosity. the ikon of christ of andrea del sarto, before which your brother always prayed, forwarded to me by general m. e. keppen for pavlovsk, is placed here at the palace church, on the chancel, where all our family attends church service and where your dear brother often prayed as well. this beautiful image will remain a prayer memorial to alexander alekseevitch, who lived so many years in his favourite pavlovsk. i hope you will acquiesce in the choice i made for this most valuable image of christ the saviour--in the pavlovsk church. allow me to kiss your hand, asking you to keep me your kind friendship in the future. your heartily devoted, etc., constantine. { } on october th, , i received from him the following note: "it is just a month to-day since our beloved son was wounded--not 'slightly' as seemed at first to be the case, but mortally. god gives and god takes away. may his name be blessed now and for ever more." it will be seen by the date of this note that prince oleg, then only twenty-one years of age, was one of the early victims of the war. at the time i little thought that the grand duke himself would soon follow his gifted son, prince oleg constantinovitch. until the recent appearance of his biography, the fame of prince oleg was too little known, and it certainly had not travelled far outside russia. to me, this charming prince was particularly dear; for i had seen him taking such affectionate care of my brother, alexander kiréef, who was already blind, ill and dying. the young man used to come, and talk to him, the principal defender of "old catholicism," of the efforts to revive the pure teachings of the church, as it was before the division of the churches in the ninth century. no subject was dearer to my brother's heart, and, seeing the beneficial influence of these conversations, the young prince returned to the subject many times in my presence. one day he said: "general, nobody has ever been so useful as you in supporting the old catholic movement. you are my father's friend, and i am as proud of you as he is." yes, i shall never forget with what loving eyes the young man gazed into the clever beautiful face { } before him, where the eyes were already dim and on the point of being closed for ever. how terribly vividly some moments come back to our memory. the talented child of a talented father, it was early evident that prince oleg had inherited the brilliant gifts of the grand duke. it is barely two years since _the king of the jews_ was produced with immense success at the hermitage theatre in the winter palace at petrograd, the grand duke himself, as well as his sons, taking part in the performance. prince oleg was clearly marked out as belonging to the elect of the earth, and by his early death not only has russian literature been deprived of a future shining light, but the most cultured circles of petrograd society are the poorer for the loss of a personality, touching and lovely in its goodness and unselfishness, and its youthfully enthusiastic and unswerving sense of duty and obligation. the young prince's biography concerns itself with the reminiscences of prince oleg's early governesses and later tutors, with his diaries and rough sketches, countless unfinished stories and poems, and also with a particularly interesting undertaking in connection with poushkin's works. poushkin was the boy's ideal from his earliest days, and it was this love for the great poet and his works that gave him the desire to enter the same lyceum (college) at which poushkin had been educated. this desire was realised, the completion of his course happening to coincide with the centenary celebrations of poushkin's birth. on leaving, prince oleg presented to the institution { } a personally executed facsimile of all the poushkin manuscripts, carefully treasured in the poushkin museum, which were written while the poet was a student at the college. the young enthusiast afterwards conceived the idea of editing the whole of poushkin's works in this fashion, bringing them out in loose sheets and unbound folios, and distributing them among museums and book-lovers. the work was carried out mostly by means of the most detailed and perfect photographic reproduction, not even omitting the smallest line, point, or blemish in the paper. unhappily this labour of love was not destined to be completed, but as much as has been done is a wonder of execution and a real literary treasure. for the general reader, perhaps the most attractive pages of the biography are those that deal with the prince's early years, recent as they are. "i sometimes try to imagine," he writes in one of the diaries of his childhood, "what would happen in my own immediate circle if i were to die. what would my friend do? i suppose he would grow pale and thin, and would fret terribly. i see him in imagination, mounting the steps of my catafalque to bid me a last good-bye, and i see mama's expression as she follows him with her eyes. "and then, suddenly, it seems curiously pleasant to have all these people thinking of me so regretfully! there flashes across my mental vision a copy of the _novoye vremya_, and i see on the first page, in large letters, the announcement of my death. i notice also that there is a reproduction of my photograph--and for a moment, i stop to wonder which { } photograph they will publish. all this gives me extraordinary satisfaction. "but the pleasantest thought of all is that the _novoye vremya_ will print an obituary notice saying that i took my degree at the lyceum, that i won the poushkin medal, and that they liked me there. perhaps even radloff himself may write a memoir of his late pupil. at this point, i stop ... really, i was going too far, it is very ridiculous, and i am ashamed of myself! i wrinkle my brow, and try to decide seriously whether i should really be willing to die just now. my inner consciousness tells me that actually, it would be stupid to die before having accomplished anything. no, not for the world ... i don't want to die without fame, without having done anything, without deserving to be remembered by anybody." how touching this is--especially now, when one can regard it as something like a presentiment. interesting from another standpoint is the description by the then thirteen-year-old prince oleg of the reception by the emperor, at the winter palace, of the deputies of the first duma in . the young, awakening soul of the child trembled with awe and ecstasy. his eyes, fixed on the emperor, noted every shade of tone and expression, and his description, too long for quotation here, is glowing in the extreme. on february th of the same year he writes: "something unusual is in the air. it is said that on the th there will be a rising in the whole of russia. recently m---- sent a secret telegram to simferopol. a message has also come from the { } crimean division--they have caught a revolutionist. they say there is a plot to blow up livadia. there has been a rising in st. petersburg and disorders in the suburbs of moscow. on the th uncle serge was murdered. poor uncle serge! mama has written us horrible details--she says we have lost a true friend. this awful incident has made a deep impression on us all. may it be god's will that everything should right itself somehow. disorders in every town! how painfully this must affect mama! it is a long time since i last received a letter from her." then a page about port arthur! "what have we lived to see! stoessel has surrendered port arthur! it appears there was no possibility of holding out any longer. kondratenko is killed. yes, many heroes have fallen at port arthur." how significant and how true are the following words, which show a remarkable insight in a boy so young: "our government is composed chiefly, not of russians, but of germans--and, of course, germans do not care what becomes of us. naturally, the result is that russians lose. we are too careless--we do not sufficiently educate ourselves. it is imperative that every russian should work at himself and educate himself from his childhood." when one considers that the writer of the above lines was barely thirteen years old, one cannot but wonder as much at the serious trend of his thoughts as at the simplicity of his style. { } here is another charming page from about the same period, a little earlier: "to-day i received a letter from my tutor, i.m. it was so touching that i nearly burst into tears--but of course i restrained myself. how stupid i was, when, at first, i was glad of the war! [between russia and japan.] how much suffering, how many orphaned families it has occasioned! at the beginning i wanted to run away and go to the front. if, during our journey to the crimea, it should be god's will to send me to the war now, i should still be happy. to-day at lunch they were saying that there were only , left in port arthur, that port arthur cannot hold out. at six o'clock in the evening, i shut myself up in my room and prayed that god might help us. i took my prayer book, and thought to myself, 'i will open it just at random, and read. perhaps i may chance on something suitable, just for the war.' i opened the book and read, '_special prayers for times of war!_'" the above is an extract from a diary. "the education of the young prince and his brothers," says the _novoye vremya_ in an interesting article on the life of oleg constantinovitch, "was very systematic and thorough. they rose at half-past six, were taken for a morning walk in the park, and at eight were already at their lessons. each lesson lasted forty minutes, and between it and the next there was an interval of twenty minutes. there were from four to five lessons daily. luncheon was at one, and from two to four the young princes rode daily with their uncle, the grand duke dimitri. from four to seven preparation for the following { } day, at seven dinner, then forty minutes' reading with one of the teachers of foreign languages, then drawing and dancing. an arduous day's work indeed!" here is another charming extract from the diary: "we must study hard and prepare ourselves. perhaps we must work even more seriously than did the rulers of to-day in their youth. there are hard times coming--and hard times call for serious preparation. the further we get from the year of christ's birth, the harder grow the times, and the harder the times, the more necessary a thorough preparation." these are wonderful words from a boy of twelve. the following words, also written in his diary, this time in the train when homeward bound after a summer spent abroad, are interesting in their charmingly expressed and idealistic patriotism: "we are already nearing beloved russia. behind us is france, with her joyous, charming, talented people, with paris, versailles, and napoleon's tomb. now we are passing through this dull germany, in an hour we shall have crossed the russian border. yes, in an hour i shall be in russia, that dear land where there breathes something sacred, unknown in other lands, on the face of whose soil are scattered churches and monasteries, in the mysterious twilight of whose ancient cathedrals there rest in silver coffins the bones of her sons, in whose dim shrines the faithful kneel constantly at prayer before the solemn sacred images of her saints. in my beloved russia there are still dreamy forests, immeasurable steppes, and impassable marshes. { } "there are moments in one's life when suddenly with a deep, passionate impulse one realises how one loves one's country. in those moments one longs unspeakably to work, to help, to do something worthy, to devote one's life to the service of russia!" a later extract from his diary is the following: "we are five brothers and are all going to the war with our regiments. this fact pleases me immensely, for it proves that at a trying moment the imperial family knows how to rise to the occasion. "on the th of july, germany declared war against us. on the same day we were commanded to assemble at the winter palace at . . the streets were crowded and there was tremendous cheering as we passed. in the nicolaevsky hall there were first prayers, and then the manifesto was read. during the prayers the whole assemblage sang, 'save us, o lord,' and 'god save the emperor!' [the russian national anthem.] "at the moment when the emperor drove up to the palace, the whole dense crowd on the great square on their knees. we were all overcome and wept with emotion." the prince never had the slightest presentiment of his death, and was afraid only for his brothers. "i am constantly anxious," he wrote, "about kostia, gabriel and john, but perhaps principally about igor. for myself, i fear nothing. something tells me that no bullet will so much as touch me." god willed it otherwise! the prince was wounded during an attack on vladislavov by the second division of the guards. our side started the firing. { } the germans retreated, but were stopped by a detachment of our hussars. at this point prince oleg, longing for action, eagerly begged his commander, count ignatieff, to allow him with his men to rush forward and seize this handful of germans. for a long time the commander refused to accede to this request, but, at last, allowed himself to be persuaded and gave in. misfortune came immediately. prince oleg, fired with youthful enthusiasm, rode fast and far in advance of his men. the germans were caught up, five of them were killed, the rest surrendered. suddenly, a wounded trooper fired from the ground. a report--and the prince fell. alas, the wound, taken at first to be quite slight, turned out, on closer examination, to be only too severe, and very soon--possibly through the unavoidable delay in operating--blood poisoning set in. the operation was performed at vilna, after a long and weary journey, first in a plain jolting cart, the only conveyance at hand--and then in the train. the prince regained consciousness very quickly and felt well. a telegram arrived from the emperor, conferring on him the order of the cross of st. george; also came a telegram from the grand duke nicolas. "it was good to see the prince's joy," writes an eye-witness of the scene, "and the pride with which he showed me both these telegrams." in the evening the principal of the military college at vilna visited the patient and congratulated him on having suffered and been wounded for his country. { } "i am so happy," exclaimed the prince in answer. "so happy. this was most necessary. it will encourage the troops to know that the imperial house is not afraid to shed its blood." the prince was very animated and beamed with joy at the consciousness of his own suffering for his beloved country. at times it was evident, in spite of his effort to hide the fact, that he was in great pain. here is a very interesting letter from the grand duke constantine's aide-de-camp, who was with the prince during all these terrible days. this letter is published by the _moscow gazette_: "at about one o'clock in the night, i was told that the prince had just awakened. i immediately went to him. he was pale as death. at the sight of me a troubled, welcoming smile lit up his youthful features. 'nicolas!' he exclaimed. 'here you are at last! heavens, how glad i am now that you have come! now you shall not leave me again. i will not let you go.' "'of course i shall not leave you,' i answered with emotion. 'here we shall stay together till we are quite well again.' "'yes ... yes ... together ... till i ... get ... well....' "so convinced was he that his recovery was to be speedy and certain. one had to swallow one's tears and to hide one's grief. "'has igor told you everything?' he continued. 'the emperor has given me the st. george. i am so happy! there is the telegram, there, on the table.' { } "i sat down beside the bed, as he asked me, and tried to talk; but soon noticed that he was falling into a state of semi-consciousness. at my slightest movement, however, he opened his eyes and exclaimed: 'there, he is gone--and i said i would not let him go!' "at about eight o'clock in the morning the prince grew more restless. he constantly asked to be moved from one side to the other, now putting his arms under his head, now embracing me feverishly and stifling a cry or a groan. "a telegram arrived, saying that the young hero's parents were on the way to him and would be with him at five o'clock. at midday the doctors examined the patient again and found the pulse good, and the poisoning not advancing. there was still hope. at about four o'clock, however, a change for the worse suddenly set in. the breathing became more frequent and the pulse weaker. there were signs of sepsis and delirium. the train by which the grand duke and grand duchess were arriving was two hours late. in the meanwhile the patient's strength was failing minute by minute and it became necessary to recur to the aid of injections to stimulate the heart's action. his lips were constantly moistened with champagne, and in order to hide from the prince the hopelessness of his condition, we filled our glasses and told him that we were all drinking with him to his speedy recovery. it was horrible beyond words, and never in my life shall i forget those few sips of champagne in the presence of the dying prince! "clear consciousness alternated with delirium. { } at seven o'clock he suddenly threw his poor little thin arms round my neck and whispered, 'like this.... like this ... together ... to meet them.' i thought at first that he was wandering, but no! he was alluding to the arrival of his parents. at last they came. for one moment he recognised them. the grand duke had brought his dying son the cross of st. george from his imperial uncle. "'the little white cross! ... the little white cross! ...' whispered prince oleg, and he bent forward slightly and kissed the shining enamel. we pinned the cross to his shirt. presently the patient began to gasp for air, and it was clear that the end was near. those awful moments of silent waiting, those last short breaths ... how terrible is the mystery of death. at . the young life closed...." a deep and real love breathed in all his life, doubly touching through the purity and transparency of the innocent heart in which it throbbed. perhaps his soul, looking down from paradise, can see the tear-dimmed eyes of many russians gazing sadly up to heaven's gates through which the beloved young hero has passed. russia is loyal to her sons. she will never forget them. { } chapter xviii bulgaria's defection and prisoners of war russia blamed for the balkans muddle--bulgaria's treachery--gen. grant on the russians and constantinople--bulgaria's dissatisfaction--the reign of the fox--the treatment of prisoners of war--the german method--the allies' failure--lack of organisation--insidious german propagandism--britain and her prisoners in germany many people blame russia for what is going on in the balkans. they may, perhaps, be more right than one would imagine, but probably not quite in the way they suppose! in political, as in private life, there are moments when one must be guided only by the criterion of one's own duty and conscience, whether one pleases the world or not, whether even one is openly blamed or not. russia, unfortunately, has not always observed this principle. it seems to me that in politics nothing is so dangerous as to be more carried away by cosmopolitanism than by patriotism, and to forget one's own feelings and duties in one's desire to please some other power. cosmopolitanism kills patriotism. i have spent many winters in england, and have known many englishmen, but i have never met a true briton who would boast of being a cosmopolitan and not a patriot. happy england! they tell me that there are prisons and lunatic { } asylums in this country. naturally--even in this happy land there are madmen and criminals--but they are considered and treated as such. in the present situation all the harm has been brought about by our past diplomacy, anxious, as it has always been, ever since the turkish war of ' , to please the european concert. at this moment, of course, we fervently adhere to the policy of the allies--and for this, indeed, one can only say "thank god!" the aims and objects of the allied nations are identical, and we have one common end in view: victory over our enemy at any cost. this fact is not based on any vague, cosmopolitan craving to win the approval of some wretched concert, but is founded on the most ardent and determined sense of patriotism. now let us consider what is just now the real position of bulgaria, and how this position has been brought about. 'yes, the incredible has happened, the liberated slave has turned against the hand that gave him freedom, the but recently enchained captive fights side by side with his oppressors, and uses his armed forces against his brothers. we turn away in horror, and cry "treachery!" the cry is taken up and repeated, its echo resounds everywhere, and it seems at first sight as though nothing could be said in defence or justification of an act so inexcusable. our indignation, indeed, is just; but before we condemn an entire nation, let us look round for a moment and consider whether we cannot point the finger of our scorn and contempt at an object more deserving of such feelings than an ignorant { } people victimised by falsehoods and intrigues, and drawn against its will into an adventure of which it is already tiring. in the first place, european diplomacy, guided by lord beaconsfield, opposed russia's imminent triumphant entry into constantinople. in connection with this fact, i am tempted to recall the following incident. several years after the end of the war, ex-president grant called on me in paris, and put to me the following question: "can you explain how it happened that the russians did not occupy constantinople, when it was obviously entirely in their hands?" "alas!" i replied, "i have no pleasant explanation to offer. we never expected such a voluntary abdication of power. in fact, some of our military people telegraphed to moscow, saying, 'to-morrow constantinople will be occupied for several days.' the general conviction is that our government, misled by news from abroad, telegraphed orders to our generals not to advance." general grant, who was listening attentively, smiled, and said: "well, i can only say one thing. had i been one of your generals i should have put the order in my pocket, and opened it at constantinople three or four days later!" soon after the constantinople mistake we again foolishly yielded to the demands of the european concert, when the san stéfano treaty was opposed, and once more this was a terrible blow to our patriotic feelings, and a real misfortune to bulgaria. { } by count ignatieff's scheme, the treaty of san stéfano raised the whole of bulgaria on this side and on the further side of the balkans to the rank of a principality. bulgaria breathed again, and a bright future seemed about to dawn for her--when suddenly, once more thanks to the demand of european diplomatists, the newly liberated state was sawn asunder alive, and the best, the richest portion of its territory found itself once more under the turkish yoke. as if this were not enough, it was insinuated, with an entire disregard for national attachments and views, that russia must not dream of nominating a russian orthodox prince to be the ruler of the new principality. no russian messages or manifestations of sympathy are allowed to find their way into bulgaria, for the austrian has reason to fear the russian influence. the remembrance of what russia has done is not quite dead; there is still a spark among the ashes, and perhaps even a faint breeze might revive the dying embers. many people, indeed, are of opinion that there is profound truth in the following words recently pronounced by general radko dmitrieff, the bulgarian general who is fighting in the russian army against one common foe, the only foe a true slav can acknowledge at this moment. "once the bulgarians can be made to understand that they have been deceived, that russia is no enemy, but rather, now as ever, their traditional friend, also that when the time comes for regulating frontiers and boundaries the allies will be just and generous, great changes may be expected. there { } may, indeed, be a repetition of that famous incident during the battle of leipzig when the saxons, fighting on the french side, suddenly changed front and went over to the enemy. i should not be at all surprised if something similar happened in the near future." yes. bulgaria ought to follow general radko dmitrieff's advice--if she wants to be pardoned and saved. a large section of the people is already bitterly discontented with the government, and there have already been demonstrations in sofia in favour of peace. during one demonstration that took place outside the royal palace, the demonstrators had to be dispersed by the police and a detachment of cavalry, several people being killed. in the best-informed bulgarian military and political circles, also, great restlessness and uneasiness is being shown, and the whole state of affairs seems exceedingly unstable and uncertain. the poor bulgarians, indeed, are in a helpless and inextricable position. from the moment of their liberation they have been in the hands of german princes, who, encouraged by the german press, have been spreading the falsehood that russia is not to be trusted, and that she is rather an enemy than a friend! ferdinand has used every opportunity to emphasise this idea, and since the outbreak of the present war has steadily influenced the people into the belief that the allies would, in the event of their success, crush bulgaria out of existence. it is, indeed, probable that the fate and fortunes of the bulgarian people do not touch ferdinand very deeply--he, an austrian, a catholic, cares little for { } the welfare of his orthodox state subjects. his object is to unite the bulgarians with their former oppressors; but such a union, even if it is, to all appearances, established, can certainly never be sincere. ferdinand has learned from his german masters (first-rate masters, indeed, in such matters!) how to demoralise the poor uncultivated bulgarians: demoralisation is not too strong a term--for europeans who serve turkish interests and persecute christians are renegades of the worst description. all this would certainly never have happened had russia not yielded to the demands of the european concert after the turkish war in ' . i must say here that the england of to-day is by no means the same as the england of disraeli. the bulgarian people, indeed, perhaps deserve more pity than condemnation, and it is wrong to lay all the blame for the present state of affairs entirely at their door. it is, for instance, a significant fact that there are countless bulgarian subjects in russia to-day who have refused to answer the call of their government, in spite of the losses and dangers of future vindictive persecution of themselves and their families which such an action involves. the former bulgarian minister in london and afterwards in petrograd, m. madjaroff, is said to have been imprisoned for treason the moment he touched bulgarian soil. his offence was nothing more than a suspected gratitude towards russia for the good done to bulgaria. russia as well as england is naturally indignant with the attitude suddenly adopted by bulgaria. { } that only shows that bulgaria is in the power of an austrian roman catholic prince, who is on the best of terms with everything austrian. just compare these two irreconcilable elements: an orthodox people freed from the turkish yoke of cruelty and persecution, and an austrian prince quite unprepared to guide his newly-annexed subjects, and penetrated with the idea of turning them as much as he can against orthodox russia, the liberator of that people, and subjugating them to jesuits and other anti-russian elements. i remember mr. froude brought me one morning the british ambassador at the porte, sir drummond wolfe. we began talking about the plan of granting constitutional government to bulgaria. "but do you want their death?" i exclaimed. "they have no schools, no roads, no universities, no seminaries: and suddenly you want to plunge them into parliamentary subtleties?" he smiled. "yes. no doubt," said he. fortunately russian and bulgarian have not so far come into actual collision. it seems terrible to think of killing those we fought for forty years ago, or of having them kill our soldiers. there are many grave problems facing europe, bulgaria is not the least important. in the meantime there are several lesser questions that demand attention, and i think one of these is unquestionably what to do with our prisoners of war. as i write news has come to hand that germany is using , prisoners of war to strengthen the rhine defences! in other words, to increase the death-roll amongst the allies. [illustration: st. olga's school for girl teachers at novo-alexandofka] { } roman lawyers were not kind to women. the code of justinian says: "women are not admitted to political activity," and adds laconically: "propter animæ levitatem" ("they cause levity"). it is not unnatural if after such a compliment we lose the inclination to trouble ourselves about complicated and sometimes painful public questions. but--god helps the brave! and so, i take courage and step straight into the heart of a resolute and searching judgment on one such painful question: that of our prisoners of war. men, almost without exception, maintain silence on this point, so why should i not try to investigate the matter? at the present moment our prisoners of war, including germans, slavs and turks, number well over a million--that is, more than the entire army of, say, bulgaria, norway or holland. through the press and private sources we know that germany does not hesitate to make use of the working power of her war prisoners. they are kept hungry, and are forced to earn their bread by all kinds of labour, even purely military occupations. how prisoners are employed in germany is described by "the man who dined with the kaiser," that daring young neutral who penetrated into the heart of the enemy country and brought back much information valuable to the allies. in _my secret service_ he writes: "at buda-pesth the balkan-zug was tidied and made presentable. windows were cleaned by men having little ladders, and the compartments and corridors swept. to my great surprise i found that this work was being done by big bearded men in { } russian uniforms. i spoke to one or two of them, but they had very few words of german. they explained that they were russian prisoners." what are we doing with our prisoners of war? this indiscreet question never receives a satisfactory answer. forty thousand prisoners have been placed in government and private employment, but the remaining mass are twirling their thumbs, languishing in enforced idleness. this hopeless and monotonous inactivity has even here and there developed hooliganism in their ranks. and further, how have we placed the comparatively few to whom we have seen fit to give employment? i have received a letter from a lady landowner of my acquaintance, who tells me that after a long and complicated correspondence, ten prisoners of war were sent to her estate. the men were quiet, polite and respectful, and on their arrival were sent to the cattle yard to dig manure. but at this point came surprises: one of these prisoners was a violinist from an opera orchestra, another a photographer, a third a skilled working optician, a fourth a clerk, a fifth--but good heavens! what is one to do with such farm labourers as that? the dull misery of their long complete inaction had so depressed them, that they were only too pleased to be occupied even if only with the roughest manual labour; but of what use is such work, and what return can it give for the outlay of the employer? on a recent occasion, chancing to meet at a friend's house several army men, government officials and financiers, i reproached them for their lack of initiative in not more practically organising { } the means of using to our advantage this colossal and invaluable working force. as everybody knows, labour at this moment is so costly, that great national enterprises, such as the cutting of canals, the drying of marshes, the making of roads, the hewing of timber, are left neglected and unaccomplished through the costliness and general lack of working hands. now i ask--where is the intelligent landlord, or other employers, who will take the risk of engaging, without even the roughest choice or selection, a heavily paid contingent of workmen containing the most fantastically mixed elements, persons of the most varied and contrasting stations and professions and habits, most of them in all probability entirely unsuited to, and incapable of, carrying out the work required? in addition, who knows or understands anything about the legal aspects of the matter?--all the special rights and special duties of these special workmen? all the special rules in connection with insubordination or any other misdemeanour, if only the much discussed refusal to work? i will state my conclusions shortly: it is to my mind necessary, first of all, to compile and publish without delay, in the russian, german, turkish and all the slavonic languages, a short and clear statement of the rights, the duties, the responsibilities of all prisoners of war within our empire, pointing out that work is obligatory, that refusal to work will be punished disciplinarily and by maintenance on black bread and water. that remuneration will be given in part immediately, the remainder on the conclusion of peace, and on the condition that our { } prisoners in germany receive the like remuneration. then, it is indispensable to organise military detachments and contingents solely and entirely for the direction and government of the affairs of war prisoners. numbers of these prisoners must receive a short and hasty course of training for government national work, which courses, as also the entire administration of the army of working prisoners, can be under the direction of numbers of our brilliant officers and generals who have left the ranks crippled or otherwise incapacitated for further active service. they will be only too happy to take upon themselves responsible work for their country. further, it is necessary to form a committee for inspection of prisoners in the intendance department. there is in our provinces a whole section that does not know how to occupy itself, since the closing of the vodka monopoly. immense numbers of splendid buildings are standing empty. it seems to me that they could be without further ado turned into schools and reading-rooms with tea-rooms attached, whilst countless local government excise clerks are entirely without occupation and would be exceedingly useful in the economic department of the larger national working enterprises. lastly, all the departments, especially those concerned with agriculture and land development, must be made immediately to set in motion all their sleeping projects: the making of roads and railways, the hewing of forest trees, the cutting of canals, etc., etc., all of which are lying on the shelf for { } no other reason than the lack of working hands. nobody will ever persuade me of the impossibility of employing disciplined detachments of our present war prisoners on the execution of many of these projects, especially those connected with building and agriculture. it is beyond question that the labour of the prisoners would immediately cheapen and hasten their completion. of course, contractors for these undertakings will not make fortunes, and they will certainly do their best to prove the impracticability of the whole plan--but their loss is the country's gain. then again, i recently happened to make the acquaintance of the administrator of one of our northern provinces. he was raising with the greatest energy and enthusiasm the question of realising an already fully worked-out project of joining the white sea to lake onega by means of canals. these canals were to cover a distance of versts. again, nobody will assure me that it is impossible to apply the labour of war prisoners to the execution of this and similar tasks of immense importance to our empire. peter the great dug the ladoga canal with the hands of his swedish prisoners--a striking reproach for our present lack of enterprise. how often it is necessary to recall to one's mind the examples of peter and catherine the great! these reminders of old times usually receive the offensive reply: "oh, in those days there were men--now we have no more men, only pigmies!" no men? in our russia that is seething with talented inventors? no men devoted to russia, { } to her honour and her might? indeed ... we have our eagles.... but to return to the question of war prisoners. can it be that all i have dared to say is so obviously senseless or so excessively profound and complicated that men prefer to pass it over in silence? or does the question i have touched upon deserve no attention simply because the romans disregarded a woman's opinion, seeing in it only levity, especially when connected with public questions?[*] [*] since this was written the russian government has given much more work to prisoners of different nationalities. german methods with war prisoners are vastly different from those of the allies. the german is not content with using their bodies for carrying out his various schemes, but he strives to divert their minds from allegiance to their respective countries. it has been proved in a court of law, the witnesses giving evidence under oath, that in the case of the irish soldiers, prisoners in germany, endeavours were made to turn them into rebels. no form of duplicity or dishonour seems to come amiss to the german, and his methods with the russian prisoners are not dissimilar to those practised against the irish, and i can only hope that they will be as loyal to their country as were the splendid soldiers of our ally. with the russian prisoners the german authorities occupy themselves with torturing the souls of all that fall in their hands, sowing discord and despair for future generations to reap. it is a terrible but authentic fact that the minds of russian prisoners in germany are being systematically poisoned by means of the propagation of atheism, nihilism, and { } anti-patriotism, through every variety of that pernicious literature that was always so well received and patronised in germany. our soldiers beg for religious and patriotic books, instead of which they receive the very opposite, their gaolers hoping thus to deprive them of their sole remaining consolation, that of an unshaken faith. one of the most encouraging things that i have heard recently came to my knowledge only as i was going over the manuscript of this book. the british authorities have taken up the question of sending educational books to the english prisoners in germany. apparently the men are tired of fiction, and they want some serious study, such as seamanship, engineering and various other crafts. what particularly interested me was the fact that simple russian grammars and text-books are very much wanted, and these are being sent out. what greater link can there be between two nations than that each should speak the other's language? our tongue, however, is by no means an easy one to acquire. bismarck could not understand why greek should be learnt at all. "if it is contended that the study of greek is excellent mental discipline, to learn russian would be still more so, and at the same time practically useful. twenty-eight declensions and the innumerable niceties by which the deficiencies of conjugations are made up for are something to exercise the memory. and then, how are the words changed! frequently nothing but a single letter of the original root remains." { } chapter xix the russian parish the revival of parish life--the ancient russian parish--a peaceful community--slavophils and the parish--the metropolitan and the emperor nicholas i--the independence of the church--father john of kronstadt--a blessing to russia our new metropolitan of petrograd, pitirim, fortunately considers the parish question to be of enormous importance. he ascribes to it even the power for future victory over our enemies. the metropolitan, of course, is a great authority, and the duma seems to be sharing his views. the proposal in orthodox church circles is to bring back life to the parish, which at present seems to be greatly neglected and to be losing its legitimate ground. the resurrection of parish life has indeed long been hoped for. the plan for its revival is complete, and is only waiting to be made public. the holy synod, as is well known, has presented lately to the duma a project that was due to the initiative of m. sabler (now called desyatovski). for some reason or other this project had been abandoned and withdrawn by its author, to the great dismay of many who are fervently greek orthodox. the metropolitan, pitirim, is now making every effort to introduce into the duma other projects { } of great importance. in any case, however incomplete or imperfect these projects may be, it is imperative to apply them with as little delay as possible, practical experience being itself the best leveller of defects. how satisfactorily the reorganisation of parishes will revive church life, we shall see. history, with which all who are interested in this question should acquaint themselves, gives ample evidence of how gradually this ecclesiastical arrangement has died out. the ancient russian parish was something very different from what is implied by the present meaning of the term. as everybody knows, a modern parish is simply a certain amount of property within the boundaries of a limited distance from a given church. social life within the parish has of late been diminishing, and the activities of parishioners in parish matters scarcely go beyond the election of a churchwarden, and the payment of his wages. the part allotted to them in all other matters is purely passive, and consists principally of paying subscriptions to various brotherhoods and charitable institutions. in other words, if the priest happens to enjoy some authority or popularity among his flock, such institutions flourish by aid of voluntary contributions. in other cases, they exist only on paper, this deception being used because their upkeep is desired by the higher powers, disobedience to whom might have occasionally disagreeable consequences to the parish control. how different is all this to old-time conditions! in bygone days, parishioners, in frequent cases, { } built their own church, and therefore naturally regarded it as their personal property, dependent on their care for its needs and its welfare. never was there an absentee at elections of churchwardens or other officials. everyone was personally interested, the whole parish being like a large family, whilst all social and other activities revolved round the church. close to the church was always a sort of marketplace with booths and other such erections, where all the affairs of the neighbourhood were transacted, and where the people collected in gay crowds on festival days. here also was a sort of social club, where the parishioners discussed the news of the day, and rested after their labours. the people were thus closely linked together, under the protecting shadows of their church. they had their organisations and their enterprises. for instance, they would club together to build homes for beggars and pilgrims to be received therein and fed and helped on their way. sometimes also the churchwardens acted as bankers, and advanced money on prescribed conditions, to needy parishioners. in fact, to quote the words of professor titlinoff, the parish authorities considered it their duty to look after both the moral and material welfare of their flock. family quarrels were regarded as a disgrace. public opinion strictly required of all parishioners regular attendance at confession and communion, with cessation of work on sundays and church festivals. the parish sometimes also made itself responsible for the education of its children, providing teachers out of the church funds. on festival days, great feasts were organised, to { } which all participants subscribed in money and kind. these feasts were enlivened by public games and useful amusements. all this drew the people very closely together into a real, living church and social organisation. such were our parishes, as long as the system of an elected clergy lasted. but as the electoral system died out, social and independent parish life declined, the parishioners losing all personal interest in their church and its clergy. the church gradually ceased to be the centre of local life, the social club disappeared, the schools ceased to exist. the authority of the church weakened, and all general parish organisation was a thing of the past. in some parts this influence of the church is almost extinguished. now that attention has been drawn to these facts, real and serious efforts are needed to awaken general interest in the matter. this question of the revival of parish life is very serious and important. in the foundation of parishes lies the seed of future economic victory--for, without a parish, there can be neither solidarity nor union of interests, nor any means of utilising to the utmost all the resources of the nation for the benefit of our church and state. in view of the rumour that the parish will be renewed, some time ago an ecclesiastical parish meeting was held. the questions debated regarded the parish, and many resolutions were passed. one of the most important was to ask the metropolitan's consent to renew meetings of clergymen of the whole town, parish churchwardens and representatives of parishioners to discuss and decide parish { } questions, and by this meeting give a mutual understanding among all concerned in the question on hand. here the most prominent of professors should be allowed to express their opinions, as well as a number of other laymen. in the parish life there are instances known only to the clergyman. up to now such instances have been the clergyman's realm of christian duty which he made his chief care and happiness. the russian slavophils were all supporters of the parish and its prerogatives. these always appealed to our ancient history and our traditions, and to see them appreciated at their real value by a man of such position as the metropolitan, pitirim, is certainly an event of great importance in the life of our church, and especially welcome in our times, where there is decidedly a great religious revival throughout the whole of russia. slavophils always maintained that religion ought to have the upper hand in questions where the temporal power was attempting to interfere. the following is a case in point. as is well known, the emperor nicholas i was a very energetic man, who liked to have his own way. on one occasion he was strongly in favour of a step of which the church disapproved. at that time we had as metropolitan of petrograd a very superior man, by name plato. i must add that our metropolitans have no difficulty in obtaining interviews with the emperor. the metropolitan, therefore, after putting on all his decorations, went without { } hesitation to the palace, where he arrived in great state in his carriage drawn by four or six horses. "majesty," he said, laying all his decorations before the emperor on the table, "here are all the gifts i have received from you. i will leave my carriage at your gates and return on foot as a poor monk. but i will never sanction the reform you demand." the projected reform was abandoned. so do we, old-fashioned slavophils, always supporting the independence of the church, now welcome with joy the intention of the holy synod and the metropolitan, pitirim, to return to the parish system with all its former privileges which have of late years been neglected--indeed, almost forgotten. in our times, in spite of the difficulties, certain efforts have been made to revive the parish question of ancient days. thus, for instance, in kieff, and in the diocese of kieff, various brotherhoods have been organised which began with the starting of preaching and organising schools. and they soon discovered that in the same province there existed already about one hundred associations of the same kind, though in more limited forms. these were exclusively organised by the clergy. thus, for instance, in one of the districts, there were already over thirty consumers' stores, started by the initiative of one single clergyman. the brilliant result of this initiative in the year represented already a considerable balance, which helped to open a second-class school, classes where trades were learned and where there were stalls of agricultural implements. the brotherhood's council then { } organised its own special committee, calling it the agricultural committee, whose task it was to "bring help to all ripening agricultural questions and to discuss them in council." libraries, reading-rooms, moving pictures, choral singing, and sermons on education and other important requirements were thus established. naturally those grew the most prominent which were already united by faith and prayer. brotherhoods of this kind admitted of no division in classes, corporations, or party factions, all being equals in the eyes of the church. for general parish work there is room for every one; for the cultured landowner, the doctor, the teacher, and for every intelligent man, and also for every intelligent peasant. when an association of this kind bears the character of clericalism, being under the guidance of the church, it is rooted deeper, and has higher objects, than when it is in private hands, where the interests are often purely egotistical or trivial. we had, for instance, a remarkable example in the reverend father john, of kronstadt, thanks chiefly to whose proverbial disinterestedness and other high moral powers, tremendous sums of money were offered voluntarily for his philanthropic work; this was practised on an incredibly large scale. father john, of kronstadt, daily received streams of money, and always at once disposed of them in charities, keeping nothing for himself. when he died he left his widow so poor, that the tsar intervened and a pension was allotted to her. no one could be guided by a better example than we have had in the reverend father john, of kronstadt, { } who, though he began life without any protection, and as a very poor and humble parish priest, attracted the whole russian nation, inspiring a faith that approached the miraculous. hundreds come daily to salute his grave and pray for his soul. similar parish reforms ought to be introduced everywhere in russia, and it is a real blessing that the metropolitan of petrograd supports this movement. had this been done already, the importance of it would have been realised not only in home policy, but also in questions of international significance. in former days members of such brotherhoods jealously pursued the severe dictates of the ordinances of the church. it is evident that the chief enlightenment and prosperity of every christian country lies in the moral conscience of her people in respect to the church, as the arbiter of power and light. { } chapter xx russia and england a new era--the russian ideal--the trick of double nationality--lord kitchener's legacy--the armenian inventor--the kaiser and double nationality--the future of prussia--russia's hope of victory--germany's influence on anglo-russian friendship--days of suspicion--lord clarendon's opinion--an ex-cabinet minister's boast--russian memories of england--a glorious future at the time i left england in may, , there was, of course, no thought of the coming calamity. i wished to return in the autumn of that year to follow my usual habit of spending the winter in london; but the declaration of this unexpected war changed all my plans, and i remained in russia, returning in the late autumn of . it has been a great happiness to me to see how the friendship between england and russia has become realised, and how with all the sufferings and mutual anxieties it becomes stronger day by day. the idea of an anglo-russian alliance has inspired me a good portion of my life. it is what i have worked for--my dream, my ideal. the war takes an intolerably long time and is a great strain. the sacrifice of men is terrible; the cost unprecedented. we have undergone much and lost much. our russian soldiers are equal in { } bravery to the british, the french, the belgians and the noble serbs. we are inspired by the same high ideal, and therefore we must win. the new conditions of warfare have horrified the world--the suffocating gases, the atrocities, the diabolical machinery. our task is not easy, but i do not think anyone in russia doubts the final result. in spite of the new german weapons, the terrible cost, the german intrigue and corruption, and the tremendous sums that must have been secretly economised by germany for the purpose of bribery, we shall win. then there is the german trick of double nationality--the becoming naturalised in russia or england and yet retaining allegiance to the emperor wilhelm. i rejoice to notice that great britain is dealing with that so wisely and energetically, not, i believe, recognising nationality obtained within the last ten years. perhaps one of lord kitchener's most valuable legacies to his country may be his advice that no germans should be given naturalisation papers in england for the next twenty-one years. the whole system of naturalisation in general is never a good or praiseworthy one. it kills real patriotism. why can one not abolish it entirely in the whole world? we cannot at will take a new father or mother and break all the ties god and nature have given us--why then a new nationality? the habit of becoming a naturalised subject of some adopted country is most common among germans, their government rather encouraging the practice than otherwise, but not allowing naturalisation abroad to interfere in { } any sense with the full rights of citizenship at home. this, of course, creates the great evil of double nationality that has done so much harm, among others to countless russian subjects of german birth or parentage. the legalisation of the practice was accomplished soon after the franco-german war of , but it was kept quiet and very little was heard of it. i should like to quote an example of the harm done by this pernicious system. a talented armenian had invented some important novelty in connection with naval matters. for some reason no one took any interest in him in russia, and his life's work seemed unlikely to achieve any result. in despair, he turned his steps to berlin. there he was immediately appreciated, but as, by the german law, the government cannot finance the enterprises of any but its own subjects, my poor armenian, after much hesitation and grief, and with the permission of the russian government, became a german subject. thereupon the german government bought his invention, largely rewarding and providing for the inventor--only, however, after his official naturalisation as a german subject. some time after, this same armenian, having lost all his means, and having suffered much from illness ana other troubles, set to work and tried his luck in london. here, however, his double nationality brought him nothing but trouble. germans, in spite of his naturalisation, regarded him as a russian, and russians, since he had chosen to become a german subject, considered him a german. neither the one nor the other would help him, and he was driven to despair and starvation. { } the german emperor has caught at the system of double nationality, and has done all in his power to create confusion in this connection. it is as though he had wished above all things to revenge himself on those of his former subjects who have adopted russia as their country, and have become naturalised there. he has, by legalising the practice, sown discord and mistrust between the german russians and the people among whom they might have continued to live peaceably and happily. is not this the action of a wicked foe? one of my friends, an experienced and clever judge, recently returned from the front, expressed himself to the effect that wilhelm had dragged his hapless country into a state of satanism and had everywhere sown dissension and bribery and evil and sorrow. this is indeed a fact and a danger of which by now not only russia, but also france and england are convinced, and this very conviction has drawn the allies more closely together, uniting them by an indissoluble bond, as they fight side by side in this war of liberation and self-defence. prussianism deserves merciless punishment, and a radical cure for its mad and boundless greed and ambition. prussia must be forced back to its former modest dangerless limits. all the mischief done by and since ' must be undone, and their military system destroyed once and for all. some people pretend that prussia should be returned to the limits not only of the year ' , but to those of the paris treaty. i hardly think that so drastic a measure could be carried through. but of course we may remember that berlin has { } been once invaded by napoleon, and that the same victories could be repeated in our time. this is _par excellence_ a war of good against evil. the good must always triumph--we must only be patient, stand loyally side by side, and struggle, struggle, struggle on to the end! in spite of all, we shall win. on our side are--( ) belief in the cause; ( ) faith in god; ( ) faith in the emperor; ( ) faith in our allies; or, to put it shorter, in the words of the motto of our army, "snami bog" ("god is with us"). we sympathise deeply, too deeply for words, with england, and appreciate all she is doing. our enemies, of course, have done their best to shake our confidence in each other. that is only natural, but we know that, but for the british fleet, the germans would have passed through the english channel and invaded the coasts of france; that our baltic shores would have been in greater danger; and that the german trade would have continued. we know what the british army is doing, and we view with deep compassion and fellow-suffering the losses which it has suffered in gallipoli, chiefly for our sake. we follow with deep sympathy britain's roll of honour. my personal belief is that our friendship will survive all strains, and will persist into the coming time when, with god's help, peace in europe will be restored for many, many years. [illustration: myself with my faithful max at brunswick place, n.w.] it is now very interesting to look back and trace the growth of the understanding between russia and england that developed into an alliance. symptoms of russophobia began to disappear { } about the middle nineties. once the indian north-west-frontier bogy disappeared, my mind became easier. anglo-indian suspicion has been not a little responsible for the breach. the change was largely due to the rise of germany. in the old days there was only one continent where the shadow of a european power fell across the english doorstep. as russia was that power she monopolised alike the attention and suspicion. what puzzles me most is, how it has been possible for a nation that has shown itself almost uncannily suspicious of russia, to permit germany to make all the preparations she has made, and which for years it has been known she was making, without suspicion. british ministers became quite cross at the mere suggestion that germany's aims were not entirely pacific, as if a man builds a dreadnought for cowes, or a submarine for henley. sometimes politicians seem to me very silly. i remember charles villiers once writing to me that "in england there is a disposition to believe that russia is an enemy of liberty and a sort of ogre that goes about looking for sickly people to swallow them up." this is exactly what england did believe for very many years. nothing russia did could be right. if she appeared to be actuated by high principles, people sought for some hidden motive; if, on the other hand, they could trace self-interest, then they contented themselves with saying that it was just what was to be expected from russia. there were, of course, exceptions to this rule. charles villiers himself, in that same letter, added { } that he was not a party to so ridiculous a belief. later, lord clarendon wrote to me expressing disbelief that russia would go to war with turkey; but in his mind there was the same suspicion of her actions. "that she should," he said, "see with the utmost confidence and resignation troubles excited in the east by others i think very likely indeed, and i cannot believe that the prince of serbia would make these preparations for exciting war unless he had the sanction of russia. russia may perhaps say with a safe conscience that she did not advise such measures, but can she declare that she ever said one word to disapprove or check them?" if she had done so, or would even now exert her authority, the prince would become as tame as a mouse. "i am not one of your category who 'cares not a straw for russia,' for i know what vast elements of greatness she has, and that if she gives herself to develop her resources and consolidate her power, and does not yield to the lust of conquest, she must be the greatest nation of the world." i quote these words because lord clarendon was in every sense a man who thought carefully before expressing an opinion, and it is easy to see even in his words some suspicion of russia. another cause for the gradual change of public opinion that for some years past has been manifesting itself in england, is that africa has displaced asia in the international arena, and that over british africa russia casts, and can cast, no shadow, whereas other nations have been treading with heavy foot upon england's colonial toes. { } no nation can be on bad terms with all its neighbours, as germany will have good reason to know in the very near future, and the rising menace of german ambition synchronised with the lessening of the tension between russia and england. the national danger for england had shifted to another zone. twenty years ago i wrote: "it appears as if, at last, englishmen were really beginning to understand that russia is a sister nation, which is as great by land as england is by sea." as i write i call to mind a dinner-party, at which an ex-cabinet minister, obviously wishing to frighten a foreigner, somewhat pompously remarked: "you have no idea of the great power which england represents by her fleet. no other nation is a match for us." he may have been right, but the tone amused me, and i said in reply: "so much the better. it is a new argument in favour of my beloved scheme--the anglo-russian alliance. our army stands to us in the same relation as your fleet to you, and in case of need might supply your military deficiency. on the other hand, your fleet might perhaps work in union with ours. but even putting aside an offensive or defensive alliance of this kind, there is one fact which is clear--left to themselves, england and russia, having such different weapons, cannot fight each other." if i had ventured this as a prophecy instead of an ideal how i should have been laughed at; yet it has been realised, and the british navy and the russian { } army have been united at last. no matchmaker ever had more trouble in bringing together a self-conscious youth and coy maiden than those who have fought so long and so hard to bring england and russia together. again, there was always that tendency on the part of england to interfere in the internal affairs of russia. to this i have referred elsewhere. if we had started in russia a society called "the friends of irish freedom," with the names of russian cabinet ministers upon the title-page, what an uproar there would have been. i have, time after time, striven to emphasise the evil done in the past to the growth of a proper understanding between the two countries by such societies as "the friends of russian freedom." anyone who is cold to russia may be said at this moment to be rather a pro-german. also any russian who is cold to england is also rather pro-german. such people no doubt do exist. every good cause has its enemies, and the cause of our friendship has had enemies all along. but our friendship is founded on a genuine mutual admiration of russians and english for one another. and when one says admiration, does not one mean in reality love? we like one another. we do not really distrust one another. knowledge is this case always breeds affection. against that fact all hostility from german and pro-german intriguers must fail. the anglo-russian alliance is first of all one of hearts. my heart is with england. i feel that i now have two countries, russia and my foster-country { } england. the hearts of many english are with russia. there are now many friendships. it is also an alliance of minds. you read our literature with profit, we yours. you are interested in our arts and institutions, we in yours. it is also an alliance of economic interests, of pockets, may i say? we both stand to help one another in commerce. after the war this will increase with the passage of each year. it is also an alliance of arms. we are both in the field against the common enemy, and the ideals for which we are fighting are one and the same, the motives similar. everything is helping forward the cause of anglo-russian friendship. as far as my own experience of england goes she is not only unselfish, but really enthusiastic and full of generosity. her patriotic self-sacrifice is displayed every day during this monstrous war. young or old, experienced or inexperienced, everybody is anxious to fight or die for the glory of his country. as to her generosity, can anybody doubt that? in these two fundamental feelings russians and english are very dear to each other. they only need to know each other better. i have said this in russia, and have described it many times. let us remember, for instance, the splendid generosity of england during the famine of in russia. that was a terrible time, especially in the province of tamboff as i have explained, and we all remember how england helped. last summer, when i was at alexandrofka, one of the old porters began talking to me about the { } "english bread, which was sent by england." at first i did not quite grasp what he meant. little by little i understood that he spoke of the english subscriptions which had allowed my son to sell bread at very cheap prices when everywhere else in our neighbourhood the cost was monstrously high. people came from the remotest districts to buy our bread. more than , people were thus saved from starvation. the philanthropic grand duchess elizabeth, sister of our empress alexandra, also hurried to help us. the magnificent part played in russia by the society of friends, represented by mr. burke and mr. w. fox, is well remembered by all of us russians. somebody has said there are no small things. everything may have great and important results, but nevertheless real. at this moment, to my great satisfaction, my room is crammed with pamphlets and books about russia, all kindly disposed and insisting upon the anglo-russian alliance. one regrets not to be able to grasp gratefully every hand that wrote such useful and excellent books. but there is no time to be lost. we must strive as much as we can to work harmoniously together. even when this war is over and when written treaties are definitely signed, we must go forward hand in hand. friendship lies not so much in the letter and the word as in the spirit. as to the future, with great britain, france, russia, and italy working hand in hand, what has europe to fear? in july, , the prussian war party saw a "decadent" england, a still more { } "decadent" france, and a russia not yet recovered from her last war. in july, , germany has to face a new england, a new france, and a new russia, and the time is not far distant when we shall have something like pity in our heart for germany, the pity that one feels for alienated criminals. it would be most unfair (not to say stupid) to forget the hundreds, perhaps thousands, of men with foreign names, who at this very moment are bravely fighting and sacrificing their lives for russia and russia's glory. every russian--even those with scanty and superficial education--should always remember certain names with gratitude. let me take a few names at random. the best friend of the slavonic cause was _hilferding_. the great academician, a. behr, has opened russia's eyes to our fishing riches, a great branch of our commerce. ostaken, who took the russian name of vostokoff, was the author of _slavonic philology_. dr. haas--whom the people always call "our saintly doctor." then there were barklay de tolly, todleben, and many others--who will always live in our history, and ought to be remembered with admiration and gratitude. thackeray said that three generations were needed to make a gentleman. but, surely, three centuries of honest allegiance to a country are required to make a trustworthy subject. the present war will undoubtedly bring in its { } train many reforms and changes in the most varied directions. among these, it is imperative to look very seriously into the question of necessary and unnecessary expenses, and of luxury in both its good and its bad sense. that there is a clearly-defined dividing line between the two, is an obvious truth, an indisputable truism. russia, as well as other countries, will, for a long time after the war, be obliged to exercise economy of the severest order. self-defence will be necessary even when the clash of arms and the thunder of the guns have ceased. great and inevitable problems face us wherever we turn. we need more churches, general education, new roads, and the development of all the latent natural wealth of our country. all this is as important as our daily bread, without which there can be no life. yes, it is indeed a fact that well organised economy spells great and mighty results. unfortunately, we cannot hide from ourselves the truth that large sums of money are constantly being spent on needless and foolish vanities. there comes to my mind a conversation that took place many years ago, during one of my visits to moscow. the subject under discussion was connected with the buttons and gold braid on our military uniforms. their arrangement was to be altered, and something added or taken away, i forget which. i listened for some time in silence, and then remarked with a smile that the whole thing reminded me of some typical discussion among gogol's "fair ladies." "but you are mistaken," answered one of the moscow experts seriously, "this is a matter that { } has to be examined very carefully. do you realise that the simplest change, the taking away or adding of one button or one inch of braid represents an enormous sum of money? when one is dealing with an army and a navy numbering millions, every extra thread deserves consideration. one must keep most careful accounts and weigh every detail conscientiously!" unfortunately, this is all too often left undone. gogol's ladies disputed about "frocks and frills"; in our case the matter under discussion concerns our national income, of which we need every penny, and which it is incumbent on us not to waste. i repeat, we need, for instance, more churches. have you ever been to the st. isaac's cathedral in petrograd at easter? even such huge places of worship as this, or as the kazan cathedral, cannot accommodate half of the throngs waiting and thirsting for prayer. i myself have often stood waiting for two hours among the crowd in the street unable to force my way through into the church. but in addition to churches, we need general education. we must have more schools and universities, more roads, more libraries, more books. all this is anything but on a line with the "frocks and frills" of gogol's ladies--no, we are discussing the welfare of russia, and that is for us no trifling matter. every insignificant change in connection with buttons or trimming affects the budget of our empire--how much more then could be saved by giving up all the needless splendour and extravagance of our magnificent uniforms? { } at the time of the discussion to which i have referred, there was no thought of war, but happily, even in days of unclouded peace and prosperity, there are people who occupy themselves with the good of our country, and their passing remarks sometimes remain deeply engraved on the memories of their hearers. if some good fairy were to appear before me at this moment and ask me to pronounce a wish, i would, without a moment's hesitation, repeat the words of my moscow friend, and would add on my own account the wish that luxury might be done away with, that we might after the war never again see the old gorgeous military attire, but that it might give place for good to the modest war-time uniforms of the moment. these simple uniforms, indeed, will always bring back soul-stirring memories, for they are connected with the brilliant victories of our heroes, whose glorious deeds have astonished the whole world. these glorious deeds, this magnificent self-sacrifice is one of russia's trophies. let our children understand the meaning of these simple uniforms, and never forget them. such economy and simplicity would be of immense benefit not only to our pockets, but to our ethical and moral education. wise remarks should be remembered. of course, the great men of the day are not always those of the century. on the other hand, simple, unpretentious, humble people make sometimes remarks of deep importance. we all ought to learn how to listen and understand what we hear. { } ah, yes! we have much, much to learn in every way! one sometimes hears strange theories advanced in favour of magnificent uniforms. it is said, for instance, that they attract young people to the service. i cannot understand how one can even repeat such an ignoble argument. people who wish to serve their country are not guided by such thoughts as this. they have far higher moral requirements and ideals--ideals indeed that are far more likely to destroy than to encourage mean and petty vanities that sometimes show themselves in such varied forms among men and women alike. money can be a great power for good, when it is applied to the development of latent but deep-rooted national possibilities. this war has awakened all our activities and will guide our energies in the right direction. russia, with god's help, will grow stronger than ever, will free herself from foreign elements and dangerous help, and will become a greater power than ever before. { } conclusion and now i have finished. i have told of some of the things i have seen, heard, and felt. i have drawn upon my recollections just as one might draw tickets at a raffle. from my earliest childhood i have always been greatly attracted by people much older than myself. they taught me things that i wanted to know but was too lazy to learn through books and from governesses, who generally appeared to me stiff, cold, and unsympathetic. ugly and whimsical child as i was, outsiders generally took a fancy to me, and, through their conversation, my mind unconsciously obtained the habit of meddling with serious questions which i very often felt to be beyond me. this habit of meddling with things beyond my depth has never left me, with the natural consequence (heaven knows!) of frequent disillusionments. now i have to reverse the order of my youth, and find interest in the younger generation more than i did when i was a contemporary. however, my raffle is closed. i hope that some words of mine have not been in vain. it remains for russians and englishmen to get to know each other. when they do, their friendship will be indissoluble--i know both. { } index abdul hamid, , , , afghanistan, aksakoff, ivan, alcohol in russia, , alexandra, empress, alexandrovna, empress marie, anglo-russian agreement, , anglo-russian alliance, , , , anglo-turkish convention, armenia, , , , armenians, , , , , asquith, mr. h. h., athens, austria, , , balkans, the, , , , , , baltic, the, baring, walter, bartlett, sir ellis ashmead-bartlett, belgrade, belgium, , berlin, berlin congress, , béust, count, bismarck, prince, , , , , bludoff, countess, bosnia, brunow, baron, , bulgaria, , , , , , , bulgarians, , , _bulgarian horrors and the question of the east, the_, by mr. gladstone, campbell-bannerman, lady, campbell-bannerman, sir henry, , , carlyle, thomas, , , cettingje, _christ or moses? which?_ by madame novikoff, clarendon, lord, cologne, constantine, grand duke, , constantinople, , , , , constantinople conference, , cossacks, crete, crimean war, cyprus convention, , _daily news, the_, , , disraeli, mr. (lord beaconsfield), first meeting with madame novikoff, ; his policy resented by russia, ; against the freeing of bulgaria from turkish oppression, ; his high opinion of abdul hamid, - ; on the treaty of berlin, ; on england's policy with regard to asia minor, ; opposes russia's entry into constantinople, dmitrieff, general radko, dogger bank incident, dolgorouki, prince vladimir, döllinger, dr., , , dostoyevsky, fiodor, , douma, the, egypt, elizabeth, grand duchess, , emperor, russian, england, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , france, , , , franco-german war, freeman, e. a., _free russia_, fock, general, _fortnightly review_, , froude, henry, , , , , germany, , , , , , , , , , , , , ghiray, hadji, gibraltar, girardin, emile de, gladstone, mr. w. e., makes acquaintance of madame novikoff, ; what he called her, ; solitary championship of russia, ; publishes his pamphlet, _the bulgarian horrors and the question of the east_, ; his anxiety about the future of england and russia, ; speaks at st. james's hall, ; a misunderstood incident, ; his fearless denunciation of turkey, ; his friendship with madame novikoff criticised, ; his dying utterance, ; his character, ; he reviews madame novikoff's _russia and england_, ; cardinal manning's opinion of him, ; his interest in the old catholics, ; a letter to madame novikoff, ; another letter, - ; his interest in shakespeare, ; a talk with hayward, ; his love of books, ; an incident at munich, ; at a dinner in paris, ; his knowledge of french, ; a comment by the _pall mall gazette_, ; on the berlin treaty, ; urges the coercion of the sultan, ; a letter on lord salisbury's position, ; on the sultan of turkey, ; condemns the policy of prince lobanoff, ; on the cyprus treaty, ; on the history of nations, gladstone, mrs., , , gladstone, miss helen, , , gortschakoff, prince, , , , goya, francisco, great britain, , , , , greece, grey, lady sybil, grey, earl, hague conference, the, , hamilton, bishop, harcourt, sir william, hayward, , , , helen, grand duchess, , - , , herzegovina, ignatieff, general, , _is russia wrong?_ by madame novikoff, italy, , japan, , jews, , , , , , , , , kaiser, , "karaims," ancestors of, kinglake, a. w., , , , , , , , , , , , karaite jews, the, keyserling, count, , , khalil pasha, khanoff, general ali, khvostoff, mons., kiréeff, alexander, , , , , kiréeff, nicholas, , , , , , , kireevo, kovalsky, bishop, _la revue internationale dc théologie_, liszt, franz, , lobanoff-rostovsky, prince, , loftus, lord augustus, , london, , , , , , , , lucca, manning, cardinal, , mariavites, the, mikoulin, general, milan, prince, mohammedans in russia, montefiore, mr. george, moscow, , , , , , , , , , , , _moscow gazette_, , munich, murchison, sir roderick, _my secret service_, naoumovitch, father, napier, lord, , , nesselrode, count, newmarch, mrs., nicholas, count, nicolaevitch, grand duke constantine, , nicholas i, emperor, - , - nicolas, grand duke, nihilism, , , , , _nineteenth century, the_, , nordau, dr. max, novikoff, alexander, , , , , novikoff, e., novikoff, m., , , novikoff, madame olga, in moscow, ; her ambition being realised, ; memories of , ; introduction to mr. gladstone, ; and to mr. disraeli, ; what mr. gladstone called her, ; her fight against prejudice, ; mr. gladstone's visits, ; her brother, nicholas, goes to help the slavs, ; his death, ; effect on russia, ; she assists the ambulance work, ; in despair she blames england, ; her english correspondents, ; letter from mrs. gladstone, ; at the st. james's hall meeting, ; mr. gladstone sees her home, ; she writes to him, ; back in russia, ; russia declares war against turkey, ; she publishes her book, _russia and england_, ; which mr. gladstone reviews, ; a letter from mr. gladstone, ; she publishes a german pamphlet, ; a letter from prof. e. michaud, ; mr. gladstone writes to her, ; hayward, the critic, ; her memory of tyndall, ; a visit to miss helen gladstone, ; her thursday receptions in russia, ; her mother-in-law, ; at the grand duchess helen's ball, ; she meets the campbell-bannermans, ; her last talk with sir henry, ; visits from carlyle and froude, ; she visits carlyle on his death-bed, - ; a memory of mark twain, ; her friendship with verestchagin, ; her meeting with skobeleff, ; his last visit to her, ; a talk with prince gortschakoff, ; a reminiscence of childhood, ; a tribute from sir ellis ashmead-bartlett, ; her detestation of the word "mission," ; a remark of the _pall mall gazette_, ; a letter from prince lobanoff-rostovsky, ; her brother, e. novikoff, ; a press comment on her friendship with count shouvaloff, ; her last interview with prince gortschakoff, ; why she used the initials "o.k.," ; in london, ; a speech on shakespeare, - ; her first public expression of views on the jewish question, ; letters to _the times_, -- ; her comment on the sydney street affair, ; her attitude towards jews, ; in russia, the famine, ; her son, alexander novikoff, ; interviewed by _the week's news_, - ; a visit to paris, ; about nicolas rubinstein, - ; a talk with the grand duchess helen, ; memories of well-known musicians, - ; she hears of the armenian massacres, ; letters from mr. gladstone, - ; she tries to persuade her country that disraeli does not represent england, ; what she was told about the cyprus treaty, ; she publishes _is russia wrong?_ ; her dream of an anglo-russian understanding, ; a conversation on the drink question in russia, - ; in petrograd, ; in the village of novo alexandrovka, ; about the "mariavites," ; memories of scotland, ; her first meeting with john bright, ; a talk with kinglake, ; his weekly letters, ; about the dogger bank affair, ; in london, ; on the english idea of siberia, ; why prisoners are sent to siberia, ; her introduction to _siberia as it is_, ; her friend, helen voronoff, ; on russian prisons, ; a visit from dostoyevsky, ; about russia in ; on the grand duke constantine, ; a letter from him, ; on prince oleg constantinovitch, ; a visit from ex-president grant, ; on prisoners of war, ; on the russian slavophils, ; her ideal in life, ; on prussianism, ; on england, _pall mall gazette_, the, paris, , , parliamentary system in russia, pasha, madame nubar, pears, sir edwin, , pears, sir edwin, _forty years in constantinople_, petrograd, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , pobyedonostzeff, c. p., rakovitz, ratchinsky, mr. serge, , _revue des deux mondes_, roumiantzoff museum, moscow, , rubinstein, nicolas, , , , , _russia and england_, by madame novikoff, , , russia, tsar's reception in petrograd and moscow, ; sympathy for oppressed slavs, "red cross" collections, ; pledge to save serbia, ; mohammedans, ; emperor's new year address, ; political unity, ; attitude towards great britain in and in , ; crisis between great britain and russia, ; inclination for war with turkey, ; bitterness against disraeli's policy, ; england blamed for slav oppression, ; russian volunteers to help slavs, ; army eager to assist, ; effect of nicholas kiréeff's death, , , ; cossacks in disguise sent to balkans, ; chivalry of russian nature, ; great britain and russia's distrust of each other, ; england's attitude hostile, ; war declared against turkey, england's neutrality, ; plans ascribed to england, ; receipt of the news of declaration of war, ; mission to afghanistan, ; eve of russo-turkish war, ; smoking not common among women, ; "russians are slavs," ; jewish question in russia, ; what the hebrews did in , ; feeling between slavs and jews, ; yiddish jargon not used by russians, ; vigilance with regard to criminals, ; famine of , ; sufferings of people, , - ; moscow and petrograd conservatoriums, ; people's interest in england's expressed sympathy for oppressed armenians, ; temperance measures, ; germans encourage sale of alcohol in polish provinces, ; reforms in russia effected rapidly, ; arrest of alleged englishwoman at warsaw, ; dogger bank incident, ; and a parallel, ; feeling towards nihilists, ; war never desired, ; effect of political murders, ; people's loyalty to emperor, ; unlimited faith in new theories, ; difference between students of and , ; parliamentary system unsatisfactory, ; russian nature, , ; meaning of siberia to englishmen, ; the convict's treatment in siberia, ; proportion of prisoners, ; revolution of , ; the "court of petitions," ; the court of appeal to mercy, ; prisoners taken for active service, ; political prisoners' patriotism. ; the ancient russian parish, ; proposed reforms, , ; appreciation of england's assistance in european war, russo-japanese war, russo-turkish war, salisbury, lord, , , , , , safonoff, m., san stéfano treaty, , , , sassoun, , , , serbia, , , , , , , , seymour, sir henry, seymour, vice-admiral, shouvaloff, count, , , _siberia as it is_, by harry de windt, skobeleff, general, , skobeleff, madame, slavonic saints, slavs, treatment in , ; russian sympathy, ; russia's pledge to help serbia, ; england blamed for turkey's cruelty, ; help from russian volunteers, ; mr. gladstone's sympathy, ; russia the only power which cares for slavs, smirnoff, general, smoking in russia, sofia, staal, baron and baroness de, _state and its relation to the churches_, by mr. gladstone, stead, w. t., , , , st. james's hall conference, , , , , sultan, the, sydney street outrage, , talmudist jews, , tchaikovsky, tchernaieff, general, , tikhomirov, leon, - _times, the_, , , , , , treaty of berlin, , treaty of paris, , , troubetskoi, princess lise, tsar, the, , , , , , , , turkey, , , , , , , , , , , , , twain, mark, , , tyndall, _unsterblichkeítslehre nach der bibel_, vatican, the, _vatican, the_, by mr. gladstone, verestchagin, vassily, - verneuil, m. de, victoria, queen, , , , vienna, viennese aristocracy, the, villiers, charles, , , volnys, madame, voronoff, miss helen, - warsaw, watson, mr. william, witte, count, zaitschar, +-----------------------------------------------------+ | transcriber's note: | | | | inconsistent hyphenation and spelling in the | | original document have been preserved. | | | +-----------------------------------------------------+ travels in the steppes of the caspian sea, the crimea, the caucasus, &c. by xavier hommaire de hell, civil engineer, member of the societe geologique of france, and knight of the order of st. vladimir of russia. with additions from various sources. london: chapman and hall, , strand. mdcccxlvii. c. whiting, beaufort house, strand. author's preface. when i left constantinople for odessa my principal object was to investigate the geology of the crimea and of new russia, and to arrive by positive observations at the solution of the great question of the rupture of the bosphorus. having once entered on this pursuit, i was soon led beyond the limits of the plan i had marked out for myself, and found it incumbent on me to examine all the vast regions that extend between the danube and the caspian sea to the foot of the northern slope of the caucasus. i spent, therefore, nearly five years in southern russia, traversing the country in all directions, exploring the course of rivers and streams on foot or on horseback, and visiting all the russian coasts of the black sea, the sea of azof and the caspian. twice i was intrusted by the russian government with important scientific and industrial missions; i enjoyed special protection and assistance during all my travels, and i am happy to be able to testify in this place my gratitude to count voronzof, and to all those who so amply seconded me in my laborious investigations. thus protected by the local authorities, i was enabled to collect the most authentic information respecting the state of men and things. hence i was naturally led to superadd to my scientific pursuits considerations of all kinds connected with the history, statistics, and actual condition of the various races inhabiting southern russia. i was, moreover, strongly encouraged in my new task by the desire to make known in their true light all those southern regions of the empire which have played so important a part in the history of russia since the days of peter the great. my wife, who braved all hardships to accompany me in most of my journeys, has also been the partner of my literary labours in france. to her belongs all the descriptive part of this book of travels. our work is published under no man's patronage; we have kept ourselves independent of all extraneous influence; and in frankly pointing out what struck us as faulty in the social institutions of the muscovite empire, we think we evince our gratitude for the hospitable treatment we received in russia, better than some travellers of our day, whose pages are only filled with exaggerated and ridiculous flatteries. xavier hommaire de hell. definitions. _geographic miles_ are of to a degree of the equator. a russian verst ( - / to a degree), is / of a geographical mile, / of a french league of to a degree. it is equal to . english feet, or nearly / of a statute mile. it is divided into _sazhenes_, and each of these into _arshines_. a _deciatine_ (superficial measure) is equivalent to acres, roods, perches, english. a _pood_ is equal to russian or english pounds. _tchetverts_ (corn measure) are equal to about - / english quarters. a _vedro_ (liquid measure) contains - / english gallons, or - / litres. since the paper ruble has been suppressed, and has given place to the silver ruble. but the former is always to be understood wherever the word ruble occurs in the following pages. the paper ruble is worth from fr. c. to fr. c. according to the course of exchange; the silver ruble is equal to - / paper rubles. * * * * * a french _hectare_ is equal to acres, rood, perches, english. contents. page chapter i. departure from constantinople--arrival in odessa--quarantine chapter ii. streets of odessa--jews--hotels--partiality of the russians for odessa--hurricane, dust, mud, climate, &c.--public buildings chapter iii. the imperial family in odessa--church music--society of the place, count and countess voronzof--anecdote of the countess braniska--the theatre--theatrical row chapter iv. commerce of the black sea--prohibitive system and its pernicious results--depressed state of agriculture--trade of odessa--its bank chapter v. navigation, charge for freight, &c. in the black sea chapter vi. agriculture and manufactures of southern russia--mineral productions--russian workmen chapter vii. departure from odessa--travelling in russia--nikolaïef, olvia, otshakof--kherson--the dniepr--general potier--ancient tumuli--steppes of the black sea--a russian village--snow storm--narrow escape from suffocation--a russian family-- appendix chapter viii. an earthquake--ludicrous anecdote--sledging--sporting--dangerous passage of the dniepr--thaw; spring-time--manners and customs of the little russians--easter holidays--the clergy chapter ix. excursion on the banks of the dniepr--doutchina--election of the marshals and judges of the nobility at kherson--horse-racing --strange story in the "journal des débats"--a country house and its visiters--traits of russian manners--the wife of two husbands --servants--murder of a courier--appendix chapter x. departure for the caspian--iekaterinoslav--potemkin's ruined palace--paskevitch's caucasian guard--sham fight--intolerable heat--cataracts of the dniepr--german colonies--the setcha of the zaporogues--a french steward--night adventure--colonies of the moloshnia vodi--mr. cornies--the doukoboren, a religious sect chapter xi. marioupol--berdiansk--knavish jew postmaster--taganrok--memorials of peter the great and alexander--great fair--the general with two wives--morality in russia--adventures of a philhellene--a french doctor--the english consul--horse races--a first sight of the kalmucks chapter xii. departure from taganrok--sunset in the steppes--a gipsy camp --rostof; a town unparalleled in the empire--navigation of the don--azof; st. dimitri--aspect of the don--nakitchevane, and its armenian colony chapter xiii. general remarks on new russia--antipathy between the muscovites and malorossians--foreign colonies--general aspect of the country, cattle, &c.--want of means of communication--river navigation; bridges--character of the minister of finance-- history of the steamboat on the dniestr--the board of roads and ways--anecdote--appendix chapter xiv. the different conditions of men in russia--the nobles--discontent of the old aristocracy--the merchant class--serfdom--constitution of the empire; governments--consequences of centralisation; dissimulation of public functionaries--tribunals--the colonel of the gendarmerie--corruption--pedantry of forms--contempt of the decrees of the emperor and the senate--singular anecdote; interpretation of a will--radical evils in the judicial organisation--history and present state of russian law chapter xv. public instruction--corps of cadets--universities and elementary schools; anecdote--plan of education--motives for attending the universities--statistics--professors; their ignorance--exclusion of foreign professors--engineering-- obstacles to intellectual improvement--characteristics of the sclavonic race chapter xvi. entry into the country of the don cossacks--female pilgrims of kiev; religious fervour of the cossacks--novo tcherkask, capital of the don--street-lamps guarded by sentinels--the streets on sunday--cossack hospitality and good nature--their veneration for napoleon's memory chapter xvii. origin of the don cossacks--meaning of the name--the khirghis cossacks--races anterior to the cossacks--sclavonic emigrations towards the east chapter xviii. journey from novo tcherkask along the don--another knavish postmaster--muscovite merchants--cossack stanitzas chapter xix. first kalmuck encampments--the volga--astrakhan--visit to a kalmuck princess--music, dancing, costume, &c.--equestrian feats--religious ceremony--poetry chapter xx. historical notice of astrakhan--mixed population; armenians, tatars--singular result of a mixture of races--description of the town--hindu religious ceremonies--society chapter xxi. commercial position of astrakhan--its importance in the middle ages--its loss of the overland trade from india--commercial statistics--fisheries of the caspian--change of the monetary system in russia--bad state of the finances--russian political economy chapter xxii. departure from astrakhan--coast of the caspian--hawking-- houidouk--three stormy days passed in a post-house--armenian merchants--robbery committed by kalmucks--camels--kouskaia-- another tempest--tarakans--a reported gold mine chapter xxiii. another robbery at houidouk--our nomade life--camels--kalmuck camp--quarrel with a turcoman convoy, and reconciliation--love of the kalmucks for their steppes; anecdote--a satza--selenoi sastava--fleeced by a lieutenant-colonel--camel-drivers beaten by the kalmucks--alarm of a circassian incursion--sources of the manitch--the journey arrested--visit to a kalmuck lady-- hospitality of a russian officer chapter xxiv. review of the history of the kalmucks chapter xxv. the kalmucks after the departure of oubacha--division of the hordes, limits of their territory--the turcoman and tatar tribes in the governments of astrakhan and the caucasus-- christian kalmucks--agricultural attempts--physical, social, and moral characteristics of the kalmucks chapter xxvi. buddhism--kalmuck cosmogony--kalmuck clergy--rites and ceremonies--polygamy--the kirghis chapter xxvii. the tatars and mongols--the kaptshak--history and traditions of the nogais chapter xxviii. banks of the kouma; vladimirofka--m. rebrof's repulse of a circassian foray--bourgon madjar--journey along the kouma-- view of the caucasian mountains--critical situation--georgief --adventure with a russian colonel--story of a circassian chief chapter xxix. road from georgief to the waters of the caucasus--a polish lady carried off by circassians--piatigorsk--kislovodsk--history of the mineral waters of the caucasus chapter xxx. situation of the russians as to the caucasus. history of their acquisition of the trans-caucasian provinces --general topography of the caucasus--armed line of the kouban and the terek--blockade of the coasts--character and usages of the mountaineers--anecdote--visit to a circassian prince chapter xxxi. retrospective view of the war in the caucasus--vital importance of the caucasus to russia--designs on india, central asia, bokhara, khiva, &c.--russian and english commerce in persia chapter xxxii. a storm in the caucasus--night journey; dangers and difficulties --stavropol--historical sketch of the government of the caucasus and the black sea cossacks chapter xxxiii. rapid journey from stavropol--russian wedding--perilous passage of the don; all sorts of disasters by night--taganrok; commencement of the cold season--the german colonies revisited chapter xxxiv. departure for the crimea--balaclava--visit to the monastery of st. george--sevastopol--the imperial fleet chapter xxxv. bagtche serai--historical revolutions of the crimea--the palace of the khans--countess potocki chapter xxxvi. simpheropol--karolez--visit to princess adel bey--excursion to mangoup kaleh chapter xxxvii. road to baidar--the southern coast; grand scenery--miskhor and aloupka--predilection of the great russian nobles for the crimea chapter xxxviii. three celebrated women chapter xxxix. ialta--koutchouk lampat--parthenit--the prince de ligne's hazel --oulou ouzen; a garden converted into an aviary--tatar young women--excursion to soudagh--mademoiselle jacquemart chapter xl. ruins of soldaya--road to theodosia--caffa--muscovite vandalism --peninsula of kertch--panticapea and its tombs chapter xli. political and commercial revolutions of the crimea. extent and character of surface--milesian and heraclean colonies --kingdom of the bosphorus--export and import trade in the times of the greek republics--mithridates--the kingdom of the bosphorus under the romans--the alans and goths--situation of the republic of kherson--the huns; destruction of the kingdom of the bosphorus --the khersonites put themselves under the protection of the byzantine empire--dominion of the khazars--the petchenegues and romans--the kingdom of little tatary--rise and fall of the genoese colonies--the crimea under the tatars--its conquest by the russians chapter xlii. commercial polity of russia in the crimea--caffa sacrificed in favour of kertch--these two ports compared--the quarantine at the entrance of the sea of azof, and its consequences--commerce of kertch--vineyards of the crimea; the valley of soudak-- agriculture--cattle--horticulture--manufactures; morocco leather --destruction of the goats--decay of the forests--salt works-- general table of the commerce of the crimea--prospects of the tatar population chapter xliii. historical sketch of bessarabia. topology--ancient fortresses--the russian policy in bessarabia --emancipation of the serfs--colonies--cattle--exports and imports--mixed population of the province note the steppes of the caspian sea, &c. chapter i. departure from constantinople--arrival, in odessa-- quarantine. on the th of may, , we bade adieu to constantinople, and standing on the deck of the odessa steamer, as it entered the bosphorus, we could not withdraw our eyes from the magnificent panorama we were leaving behind us. constantinople then appeared to us in all its grandeur and beauty. seated like rome on its seven hills, exercising its sovereignty like corinth over two seas, the vast city presented to our eyes a superb amphitheatre of palaces, mosques, white minarets and green plane-trees glistening in an asiatic sunshine. what description could adequately depict this marvellous spectacle, or even give an idea of it? would it not be wronging creation, as lamartine has said, to compare constantinople with any thing else in this world? meanwhile, we were advancing up the bosphorus, and the two shores, fringed all along to the black sea with cypress groves, and half hidden beneath their sombre shade, invited a share of that attentive gaze we had hitherto bestowed only on the great city that was vanishing in our wake. the bosphorus itself presented a very animated scene. a thousand white-sailed caïques glided lightly over the waves, coming and going incessantly from shore to shore. as we advanced, the bosphorus widened more and more, and we soon entered that black sea, whose ominous name so well accords with the storms that perpetually convulse it. a multitude of vessels of all kinds and dimensions, were anchored at the entrance of the channel, waiting for a favourable wind to take them out of the straits, which alone present more dangers than the whole navigation of the black sea. the difficulties of this passage are further augmented in the beginning of spring and the end of autumn by dense fogs, which have caused an incalculable number of vessels to be wrecked on the steep rocks of these iron-bound coasts. the passage from constantinople to odessa is effected in fifty hours in the russian steamers, which ply twice a month from each of these ports. those who are accustomed to the comfort, elegance, and scrupulous cleanliness of the mediterranean and atlantic steamers, must be horrified at finding themselves on board a russian vessel. it is impossible to express the filth and disorder of that in which we were embarked. the deck, which was already heaped from end to end with goods and provisions, was crowded besides with a disgusting mob of pilgrims, mendicant monks, jews, and russian or cossack women, all squatting and lying about at their ease without regard to the convenience of the other passengers. most of them were returning from jerusalem. the russian people are possessed in the highest degree with the mania for pilgrimages. all these beggars set off barefooted, with their wallets on their backs, and their rosaries in their hands, to seek heaven's pardon for their sins; appealing on their way to the charity of men, to enable them to continue that vagabond and miserable life which they prefer to the fulfilment of homely duties. it was a sorry specimen of the people we were going to visit that we had thus before our eyes, and our repugnance to these muscovites was all the stronger from our recollections of the turks, whose noble presence and beauty had so lately engaged our admiration. on the morning of the second day, we saw on our left a little island called by the sailors the island of serpents. the russians have retained its greek name of fidonisi. it was anciently called leucaia, or makaron nesos (island of the blest), was sacred to achilles, and contained a temple, in which mariners used to deposit offerings. it is a calcareous rock, about thirty yards high and not more than in its greatest diameter, and has long been uninhabited. some ruins still visible upon it would probably be worth exploring, if we may judge from an inscription already discovered. soon afterwards we were made aware of our approach to odessa, our place of destination, by the appearance of the russian coast with its cliffs striated horizontally in red and white. nothing can be more dreary than these low, deserted, and monotonous coasts, stretching away as far as the eye can reach, until they are lost in the hazy horizon. there is no vegetation, no variety in the scene, no trace of human habitation; but everywhere a calcareous and argillaceous wall thirty or forty yards high, with an arid sandy beach at its foot, continually swept bare by the waves. but as we approached nearer to odessa, the shore assumed a more varied appearance. huge masses of limestone and earth, separated ages ago from the line of the cliffs, form a range of hills all along the sea border, planted with trees and studded with charming country-houses. a lighthouse, at some distance from the walls of odessa, is the first landmark noted by mariners. an hour after it came in sight, we were in front of the town. europe was once more before our eyes, and the aspect of the straight lines of street, the wide fronted houses, and the sober aspect of the buildings awoke many dear recollections in our minds. every object appeared to us in old familiar hues and forms, which time and absence had for a while effaced from our memories. even constantinople, which so lately had filled our imaginations, was now thought of but as a brilliant mirage which had met our view by chance, and soon vanished with all its illusive splendours. odessa looks to great advantage from the quarantine harbour, where the steamer moored. the eye takes in at one view the boulevard, the exchange, count voronzof's palace, the _pratique_ harbour, and the custom-house; and, in the background, some churches with green roofs and gilded domes, the theatre, count de witt's pretty gothic house, and some large barracks, which from their grecian architecture, one would be disposed to take for ancient monuments. behind the custom-house, on some steep calcareous rocks, sixty or seventy feet high, stands the quarantine establishment, looking proudly down on all odessa. a fortress and bastions crowning the height, protect the town. all the remarkable buildings are thus within view of the port, and give the town at first sight an appearance of grandeur that is very striking. the day of our arrival was a sunday; and when we entered the harbour, it was about four in the afternoon, the hour of the promenade, and all that portion of the town adjoining the port presented the most picturesque appearance imaginable. we had no difficulty in distinguishing the numerous promenaders that filled the alleys of the boulevard, and we heard the noise of the droshkys and four-horse equipages that rolled in every direction. the music, too, of a military band stationed in the middle of the promenade, distinctly reached our ears, and heightened the charms of the scene. it was, indeed, a european town we beheld, full of affluence, movement, and gaiety. but, alas! our curiosity and our longings, thus strongly excited, were not for a long while to be satisfied. the dreaded quarantine looked down on us, as if to notify that its rights were paramount, and assuredly it was not disposed to abrogate them in our favour. one of the officers belonging to it had already come down to receive the letters, journals, and passports, and to order us into a large wooden house, placed like a watchful sentinel on the verge of the sea. so we were forced to quit the brilliant spectacle on which we had been gazing, and go and pass through certain preliminary formalities in a smoky room, filled with sailors and passengers, waiting their turn with the usual apathy of russians. we had no sooner entered the quarantine, than we were separated from each other, and every one made as much haste to avoid us, as if we were unfortunate pariahs whose touch was uncleanness. all our baggage was put aside for four-and-twenty hours, and we were accommodated in the meantime with the loan of garments, so grotesque and ridiculous, that after we had got into them, we could not look at each other without bursting into laughter. we made haste to inspect our chambers, which we found miraculously furnished with the most indispensable things. but what rejoiced us above all, was a court-yard adorned with two beautiful acacias, the flowery branches of which threw their shade upon our windows. our guardian, who had been unable to preserve the usual gravity of a russian soldier at the sight of our ludicrous _travestissement_, surprised us greatly by a few words of french which he addressed to us. by dint of mangling our mother tongue, he managed to inform us that he had made the campaign of , and that he was never so happy as when he met frenchmen. on our part we had every reason to be satisfied with his attentive services. the first hours we passed in quarantine, were extremely tedious and unpleasant, in consequence of the want of our baggage. our books, our papers, and every thing we had most urgent need of, were carried off to undergo two whole days' fumigation. but afterwards the time passed away glibly enough, and i should never have supposed it possible to be so contented in prison. but for the iron bars and the treble locks which had to be opened every time we had occasion to leave our rooms, we might have fancied we were rusticating for our pleasure. a handsome garden, a capital cook, books, a view of the sea--what more could any one desire? we were allowed to walk about the whole establishment, on condition only that we kept at a respectful distance from all who came in our way, and that we were constantly accompanied by our guardian. on one of the angles of the rock there is a little platform, with seats and trees, looking down on the sea, the harbour, and part of the town. in this delightful lounging-place we often passed hours together, in contemplating the beautiful spectacle before us. what a lively source of endless enjoyment does the imagination find in a broad extent of sea animated by numerous vessels! the bustle of the harbour, the boats plying with provisions and passengers; the various flags flying from the mast-heads; the brig preparing to sail, with canvass unfurled, and the crew singing out as they tramp round the capstan; a sail suddenly appearing on the horizon, like a bird on the wing, gleaming in the sun, and gradually enlarging on the sight; the zones of light and shade, that scud athwart the sea's surface, and give it a thousand varying aspects; the coast, with its headlands, its lighthouse, its sinuous and indented lines, its broad beach and belt of rocks; all these things form a panorama, that completely absorbs the faculties. you envy the good fortune of those who are outward bound, and whose course lies over yon smooth expanse of water, limited only by the sky, in search of other shores and other scenes. you bid them farewell with voice and gesture as familiar friends, and wish them fair winds and good speed, as though they could hear you. we were then in the beautiful month of june; the placid sea was as limpid and bright as the sky; the acacia was coming into full bloom, and embalmed the air far over sea and shore with its delicious perfume. odessa is full of these trees, and when they are covered with their odorous blossoms, the streets, the squares, and even the meanest quarters, put on a charming gala aspect; the whole town is metamorphosed into a smiling garden. we feel bound to testify to the excellent arrangements of the quarantine establishment, and to the ready, obliging disposition of its officers. though placed in such propinquity to constantinople, the odessa lazaret may serve as a model of its kind, and the excellence of the system observed in it is proved by the happy results obtained. travellers are subjected to a quarantine of a fortnight only, and merchandise, after undergoing forty-eight hours' fumigation with preparations of chlorine, is immediately set free; yet since the existence of this establishment, there has not occurred in odessa a single case of plague which could be ascribed to any defect in the sanatory regulations of the place. there is no denying the fact that in matters of quarantine, france remains in the extreme background. the lazaret of marseilles, is at this day exactly what it was at the beginning of the last century. all our discoveries in chemistry and medicine have been of no avail against the inveterate force of old habits; and up to the present time, notwithstanding all the remonstrances of commercial men, it has been impossible to modify the sanatory regulations enforced in our mediterranean ports. marseilles is leagues away from the countries ravaged by the plague, and yet vessels are subjected there, after five-and-twenty days' navigation, to a quarantine of forty-five days, and their cargoes are exposed in the open air for the same period. it has been frequently proposed to establish a new system, more in accordance with the advanced state of our knowledge; but it seems that the efforts of the government have always been defeated by the prejudices of the inhabitants of the south. chapter ii. streets of odessa--jews--hotels--partiality of the russians for odessa--hurricane, dust, mud, climate, &c.--public buildings. the day of our release from quarantine, was as full of bustle and annoyances as that of our arrival, the _spolio_ alone excepted. how we regretted the freedom of the east! there the traveller's movements are shackled by no formalities, but he is free from the moment he quits his vessel, to roam about the town as he pleases, without being pestered with the custom-house and police officers, and the _employés_ of all sorts that assail him in lands calling themselves civilised. but it is in russia especially that he has most reason to pour out his wrathful imprecations on that army of birds of prey that pounce on him with an avidity truly intolerable. i can't tell how many formalities we had to go through from the hour appointed for our leaving the lazaret, until we finally got out of the clutches of the custom-house, and could breathe freely. but our feelings of vexation, strong as they were, gave way to downright stupefaction, when we entered the town. was this really that odessa which had seemed so brilliant when we saw it from the lazaret, and which now presented itself to our eyes under so mean and wretched an aspect? could we even grace with the name of town the place where we then were and the streets we beheld? it was a great open space without houses, filled with carts, and oxen rolling in the dust, in company with a mob of russian and polish peasants, all sleeping together in the sun, in a temperature of more than °. whirlwinds of dust exactly like waterspouts in all but the material composing them, darkened the air every moment, and swept the ground with incredible fury. further on, we entered a street wider than our highways in france, and flanked with little houses, one story high, and separated from each other by uncultivated gardens. the population consisting of jews, whose filth is become proverbial in russia, completed our disgust, and we knew not which way to turn our eyes to escape the sight of such loathsome objects. however, as we approached the heart of the town the streets began to show shops and houses, and the appearance of the inhabitants grew more diversified. but notwithstanding the carriages and droshkys that passed us rapidly, notwithstanding the footways of cut stone, and the grecian architecture of the corn stores, we reached the hotel de la nouvelle russie without having been able to reconcile ourselves to the aspect of the town; and there again we encountered fresh disappointments. we had been told by many of our acquaintances in constantinople that the hotels of odessa were among the best in europe; great, therefore, was our surprise at not finding any one of the commonest requisites for travellers in the one at which we stopped. no linen, no bells, no servants to wait on us; it was with difficulty we could get a carafe of water after waiting for it half an hour. our single apartment looked due south, and all the furniture in it consisted of a bedstead, a chest of drawers, and a few chairs, without a scrap of curtain to mitigate the blazing sunshine that scorched our eyes. and for such accommodation as this we had to pay eight rubles a day. but our amazement reached the highest pitch, when, after giving orders to fit up the bedstead which made so piteous a figure in this agreeable lodging, we were informed by the hotel keeper that every article was charged for separately. "what!" i exclaimed, in great indignation, "do we not pay eight rubles a day?" "certainly, madame, but accessories are never included in the charge for the room. but if madame don't like, there is no need to have a bed furnished completely. we have generals and countesses that are satisfied with a plain mattress." we had no desire to follow the example of their excellencies, so we were obliged to submit to our host's terms. it is fair to add, however, that circumstances to a certain extent justified some exorbitance of charge, for the emperor nicholas and his family were hourly expected, and the hotels were of course thronged with military men and strangers. odessa now lays claim to a respectable rank among the towns of europe. its position on the black sea, the rapid increase of its population, its commercial wealth, and its brilliant society, all concur to place it next in russia after the two capitals of the empire. though but forty years have elapsed since its foundation, it has far outstripped those half-sclavonic, half-tartar cities, kiev the holy, the great novgorod, and vladimir, all celebrated in the bloody annals of the tzars, and already old before moscow and st. petersburg were yet in existence. odessa is not at all like any of the other towns in the empire. in it you hear every language and see all kinds of usages except those of the country. nevertheless, the russians prefer it even to st. petersburg, for they enjoy greater liberty in it, and are relieved from the rigorous etiquette that engrosses three-fourths of their time in the capital. besides this, odessa possesses one grand attraction for the russian and polish ladies in the freedom of its port, which enables them to indulge their taste for dress and other luxuries without the ruinous expense these entail on them in st. petersburg. odessa is their paris, which they are all bent on visiting at least once in their lives, whatever be the distance they have to travel. the reputation of the town has even passed the russian frontiers, and people have been so obliging as to bestow on it the flattering name of the _russian florence_; but for what reason i really cannot tell. odessa possesses neither arts nor artists; even the dilettante class is scarcely known there; the predominant spirit of trade leaves little room for a love of the beautiful, and the commercial men care very little about art. it is true that m. vital, a distinguished french painter, has endeavoured to establish a drawing-academy under the patronage of count voronzof, but the success of his efforts may be doubted. the infatuated admiration of the russians for odessa is carried to the utmost extreme, and they cannot understand how a stranger can fail to share in it. how indeed can any one refuse to be enraptured with a town that possesses an italian opera, fashionable shops, wide footways, an english club, a boulevard, a statue, two or three paved streets, &c.? barbarian taste or envy could alone behold all this without admiration. after all, this enthusiasm of the russians may be easily accounted for: accustomed as they are to their wildernesses of snow and mud, odessa is for them a real eldorado comprising all the seductions and pleasures of the world. if you will believe the russians, snow is a thing of rare occurrence there, and every winter they wonder in all sincerity at the reappearance of sledges in the streets. but this does not hinder the thermometer from remaining steadily for several months at ° or ° r. below zero, and the whole sea from becoming one polished sheet of ice; nor does it dispense with the necessity of having double windows, stoves, and pelisses, just as in st. petersburg and moscow. great, therefore, is the surprise of the traveller, who, on the strength of its flattering _sobriquet_, expects to find an italian sun in odessa, and who meets at every step nothing but frost-bitten faces and sledges. besides these wintry rigours, there are the hurricanes that continually desolate the whole region, during what is elsewhere called the fine season. and these vicissitudes of the atmosphere are aggravated by another evil still more distressing, the dust, namely, which makes the town almost uninhabitable during a part of the year. dust is here a real calamity, a fiend-like persecutor, that allows you not a moment's rest. it spreads out in seas and billows that rise with the least breath of wind, and envelop you with increasing fury, until you are stifled and blinded, and incapable of a single movement. the gusts of wind are so violent and sudden as to baffle every precaution. it is only at sunset that one can venture out at last to breathe the sea air on the boulevard, or to walk in the rue richelieu, the wide footways of which are then thronged by all the fashion of the place. many natural causes combine to keep up this terrible plague. first, the argillaceous soil, the dryness of the air, the force of the wind, and the width of the streets; then the bad paving, the great extent of uncultivated ground still within the town, and the prodigious number of carriages. the local administration has tried all imaginable systems, with the hope of getting rid of the dust, and has even had stones brought from italy to pave certain streets, but all its efforts have been ineffectual. at last, in a fit of despair, it fell upon the notable device of macadamising the well-paved rue italienne and rue richelieu. the only result of this operation was, of course, prodigiously to increase the evil. a wood paving, to be laid down by a frenchman, is now talked of, and it appears that his first attempts have been quite successful. in order to give some idea of the violence of the hurricanes to which the country is subject, i will mention a phenomenon of which i was myself a witness. after a very hot day in , the air of odessa gradually darkened about four in the afternoon, until it was impossible to see twenty paces before one. the oppressive feel of the atmosphere, the dead calm, and the portentous colour of the sky, filled every one with deep consternation, and seemed to betoken some fearful catastrophe. for an hour and a half the spectator could watch the progress of this novel eclipse, which as yet was without a precedent in those parts. the thermometer attained the enormous height of ° f. the obscurity was then complete; presently the most furious tempest imagination can conceive, burst forth, and when the darkness cleared off, there was seen over the sea, what looked like a waterspout of prodigious depth and breadth, suspended at a height of several feet above the water, and moving slowly away until it dispersed at last at a distance of many miles from the shore. the eclipse and the waterspout were nothing else than dust, and that day odessa was swept cleaner than it will probably ever be again. during the winter the dust is changed into liquid mud, in which the pedestrian sinks up to mid-leg, and in which he might soon drown himself, if his humour so disposed him. a long pole to take soundings with, would not come amiss to one who had to steer his course between the slimy abysses with which some streets are filled. formerly, that is to say some fifteen years ago, ladies used to repair to the ball-room in carts, drawn each by a numerous team of oxen. at present the principal streets are paved and lighted, and one may proceed to an evening party in a rather more elegant equipage; but the poor pedestrian, nevertheless, finds it a most difficult task to drag his feet out of the adhesive mud that meets him whichever way he turns; those, therefore, who have no carriages in odessa, are obliged to live in absolute solitude. the distances are as great as in paris, and the only vehicle for hire is what is called in russia a droshky; that is to say, a sort of saddle mounted on four wheels, on which men sit astride, and ladies find it very difficult to seat themselves with decorum. the droshky affords you no protection from either mud, dust, or rain, and at most is only suitable to men of business and russians, who never go out of doors without their cloaks, even in the height of summer. odessa contains no remarkable building. in many private houses and in most of the corn warehouses, a lavish use has been made of the greek style of architecture, which accords neither with the climate, nor above all with the materials employed. all those columns, pediments, and regular façades, with which the eye is so soon satiated, are in plaster, and they begin to spoil even before the building is finished. the mouldings must be renewed every year, and notwithstanding this care, most of the houses and churches have an air of dilapidation, that makes them resemble ruins rather than palaces and temples. the cathedral itself has nothing to distinguish it but its bulk. one must not look for the rules of architecture, or for elegance of form, or pleasing details in the religious edifices. they are monotonous in character, and shabby in structure and fittings. their interiors are glaring with pictures and gilding, but all in the spurious taste of the lower empire. the oddly-accoutred saints, the biblical scenes so grotesquely travestied, the profusion of tinsel, and the reds, greens, and blues, laid one upon the other, in the coarsest discordance, far too disagreeably shock the sight to inspire any serious and pious thoughts. odessa has also some synagogues, a catholic church, and one or two protestant places of worship, which from their humble appearance might rather be taken for private houses. it has but one promenade, the boulevard, which overlooks the whole harbour, and is exposed, from its situation, to frequent landslips. the vicinity of this promenade is the most fashionable quarter. the theatre, the exchange, the mansions of count voronzof and the princess narishkin; a line of very elegant houses, and the throng of carriages, all bespeak the presence of the aristocracy. workmen have been employed for the last two or three years in constructing a gigantic staircase, to lead by a very gentle descent from the boulevard to the sea-beach. this expensive and useless toy, is likely to cost nearly forty-thousand pounds. it is intended to be ornamented with vases and statues; but some considerable fissures already give reason to fear the speedy destruction of this great staircase, which after all can never be of any use, except to the promenaders on the boulevard. chapter iii. the imperial family in odessa--church music--society of the place, count and countess voronzof--anecdote of the countess braniska--the theatre--theatrical row. the brilliant fêtes that took place on the arrival of the imperial family, happened most opportunely for us, and enabled us to see many celebrated personages. all the foreigners of distinction who had been present at the famous review of vosnecensk, followed the emperor to odessa, and prolonged their stay there after his departure. the whole town was in revolution. the houses of dubious colour were most carefully re-coated, and even old tumbling walls were plastered and coloured. te deum was chanted in the cathedral the day their majesties arrived; the emperor and his eldest son attended, and were met at the great doors by the whole russian clergy dressed in their richest robes, and headed by the archbishop. the emperor was accompanied by a long-train of courtiers and officers, whose golden embroideries and glittering decorations vied in splendour with the magnificent costumes of the popes and choristers. the te deum appeared to me incomparably beautiful. whoever would know the full power of harmony, should hear the religious music of the russians. the notes are so full, so grave, of such thrilling sweetness, and such extraordinary volume, and all the voices, seeming as though they issued from the depths of the building, accord so admirably with each other, that no language can express the effect of that mighty music and the profound emotion it excites. i had often heard enthusiastic accounts of the russian church-singing, but all fell far short of what i then heard. after the te deum the archbishop presented his episcopal ring to the tzar and the grand duke, who kissed it respectfully. the imperial party then left the cathedral, which was filled with clouds of incense. the vast throng, assembled in front of the building, dispersed in silence, without pressure or confusion; and the interference of the cossacks, appointed to maintain order, was not for a moment requisite. in the evening there was a grand illumination, the empress held a drawing-room, and there was an extraordinary representation at the theatre, at which the whole imperial family was present. it was noticed that during the whole evening, the emperor sat behind the empress and did not once advance to the front of the box. there was therefore not a single hurrah, but every one seemed to affect ignorance of his majesty's presence. next day the merchants gave a grand ball to the imperial family. it was a very brilliant assemblage: the exchange-rooms were all full of highnesses and excellencies, and the poor merchants cut but a sorry figure amongst all the embroidered uniforms, the wearers of which elbowed and pushed them aside contemptuously. with an excessive devotion to etiquette, they had adopted knee-breeches, cocked-hats, and a _soi-disant_ uniform, with swords at their sides; but this costume was far less becoming than the black dress which they would certainly have done better in retaining. a boudoir all lined with vines had been constructed for the empress, and the fine clusters of grapes hung from the branches as if to invite her royal hand to pluck them. the imperial family remained but five or six days in odessa, and then proceeded in a steamer to the crimea. their presence in the town produced on the whole a very favourable impression. it remains for us to say a few words respecting the society to be met with in odessa. it consists of so many heterogeneous elements, that it possesses no distinctive character of its own; french, germans, russians, english, greeks, and italians, all bring to it their respective opinions, habits, language, interests, and prejudices. the countess voronzof's drawing-rooms are the general rendezvous of that aristocratic, commercial, and travelling world, which is to be found in similar admixture only in some of the towns of italy. the same confusion prevails among the women; the noble and proud narishkin may be seen there side by side with a broker's wife: pure blood, mixed blood, all shades, all tones, all possible physiognomies are there assembled together. count voronzof is a veritable _grand seigneur_, and spends more than £ a year in pomps and entertainments. his name, his immense fortune, and his influence at court give him the predominance over most of the emperor's favourites. brought up in england, where his father was ambassador for more than forty years, he seems more an englishman than a russian, and has retained nothing of his nationality except his devoted loyalty to the emperor, and the exquisite politeness that distinguishes the russian nobles. his talents, his affability, and great facility of character, secure him numerous admirers amongst the odessians and foreigners. nicholas could not have made a better choice than in selecting him for governor of new russia. his sumptuous tastes and vast wealth give great _éclat_ to the rank he fills, and put him on a par with the most magnificent lords of europe. his wife is the daughter of the celebrated countess braniska, whose gigantic fortune was long an object of astonishment to the russians themselves. she died but recently at the age of ninety-five, leaving her immense fortune to her only son, with the exception only of a fourteenth part, which was all that devolved, according to the laws of russia, on her two daughters. her avarice was as notorious as her wealth, and stories are told of her, that far out-do all that is related of the most famous misers. i will mention but one of them, the authenticity of which was warranted to me by an eye-witness. mr. dantz, one of our friends, having had occasion to call on the countess, on matters of business, left his britchka in a court-yard of her house, in which there was some cattle. a large bundle of hay, intended for his horses, was hung behind the carriage, according to the usual custom in russia. being shown into a room that looked out into the court-yard, he became engaged in a brisk discussion with the countess, who would not yield to any of his arguments, and soon losing patience rose, as if to put an end to the interview, and walked to a window. but no sooner had she looked down into the court-yard than she again took up all the points of the discussion, one after the other, seeming half-disposed to yield, and keeping mr. dantz in suspense for more than a half an hour. exceedingly puzzled by this sudden change in the lady's temper, which he knew not how to account for, he narrowly watched all her movements, and observed that from time to time she cast a rapid glance into the court-yard; whereupon he went with affected carelessness to the window, and what did he see? two or three horribly lean cows busily devouring the hay behind his carriage. the countess had prolonged the interview in order to gain time for her cows to feed at her visitor's expense; and, accordingly, as soon as the last blade of hay was eaten up, she resumed all her stateliness, cut short the discussion with a word, and gave mr. dantz his congé. odessa is a town of pleasure and luxury, where the ladies, it is said, ruin their husbands by their profusion and extravagant love of dress. in addition to the balls, concerts, and soirées of all sorts, performances for the benefit of the poor are given every year in the great theatre, by the _court_, as the countess voronzof's establishment is called. all the _élite_ of odessa, take part in these amusements, which bring in considerable sums. the countess at first set the example, by herself performing a part; but an order from the emperor forbade her thus exhibiting in public, and since that time she confines herself to the business of managing behind the curtain. the house is always well filled, and each performance brings in four or five thousand rubles. the skill displayed by these noble actors is not to be surpassed by any professional company; but this is not surprising, for every one knows in how high a degree the russians possess the talent for imitation; whatever they see they mimic with ease, and without preparation. it is needless to add that the performances are in french, and that the pieces are taken from our stock. m. scribe is almost the sole contributor. nowhere, perhaps, is our witty vaudevillist so much prized as in russia. odessa possesses the only italian theatre in russia. the company is generally well composed, and gives, during the whole year, performances, which are but scantily attended, notwithstanding the passionate admiration which the odessians affect for italian music. it is only in the bathing season, when the poles fill the town, that the house presents a somewhat more animated appearance. all the rest of the year the boxes are almost deserted, and the jews alone frequent the pit. in , mademoiselle georges entered into a six months' engagement with the manager of the odessa theatre, and arrived with a numerous company, including some really superior actors. yet, notwithstanding her european celebrity and her ample _repertoire_, she would scarcely have covered her expenses, but for the strenuous exertions of her quondam admirer, general n., who welcomed her as though fifteen years had not interrupted their liaison, and placed his mansion, his equipages, his purse, and his credit, at her disposal, with all the chivalric gallantry of a russian magnifico. but all his efforts were unable to reverse the very unfavourable sentence which public opinion had, from the first, pronounced upon his protégé. notwithstanding the superior talent with which she still plays certain parts, she was appreciated but by a very small number of persons; and she left odessa with sentiments of deep disdain for a public that so much preferred the paltriest vaudeville to all her bursts of passion as to make almost open war upon her. a thing till then almost unheard-of in russia took place at the last performance of the french company: a regular cabal was formed, attended with an explosion of very stormy passions. the whole town was divided into two factions, the one for mademoiselle georges, the other for m. montdidier, one of her best actors. our tragedy queen, it is said, was exceedingly jealous of this preference, and lost no opportunity of mortifying her rival. accordingly, she purposely selected for the last performance, two pieces in which he had no part. the public, greatly dissatisfied at not seeing the name of their favourite actor in the bills, repaired to the theatre in an ill-humour, of which they soon gave very intelligible symptoms. things passed off, however, tolerably well until the end of the last piece; but then there was a call for montdidier, which was taken up, and vehemently sustained by the whole pit, notwithstanding all the efforts of the police, general n's coterie, and the presence of the governor-general. this incident which had been altogether unforeseen by the managers, caused them extreme perplexity; no one knew where montdidier was to be found. at last, seeing the row increase, count voronzof himself ordered the commissioner of police to go to montdidier's hotel, and fetch him alive or dead. the commissioner found him fast asleep, and quite unconscious of all the agitation he was causing in the theatre. he hurried thither, and was proceeding to show himself on the stage, but was stopped by the whole company with mademoiselle georges at their head, under pretext that such a course would be an infraction of all the rules of the theatre. in short, there was, for a while, an indescribable tumult. the whole pit stood up and never ceased shouting until they saw montdidier rush on the stage, with his dress in a state of disorder that showed what a hard battle he had sustained behind the scenes. the angry shouts were now succeeded by an explosion of applause; the boxes rang with prolonged bravos, and even count voronzof himself was seen clapping his hands and laughing with all his might. the whole audience seemed to have lost their wits. general n., quite disconcerted, slunk back into the rear of his box, and said to one of his friends as he pointed to the stage, "look at those frenchmen; they have only to show themselves to upset all established usages and principles. they bring with them disorder, rebellion, and the spirit of revolution; and the contagion soon spreads even among the most sensible people." in truth nothing of the kind had ever before been seen in odessa; and all the jealousies of the _primissime donne_ had never caused the twentieth part of the confusion that marked that memorable night. chapter iv. commerce of the black sea--prohibitive system and its pernicious results--depressed state of agriculture--trade of odessa--its bank. from the destruction of the genoese colonies in the crimea, in , down to the treaty of kainardji, a period of years, the black sea remained closed against the nations of the west, and was the privileged domain of turkey. its whole coast belonged to the sultans of constantinople, and the khans of the crimea. the turks, and the greeks of the archipelago, subjects of the ottoman porte, had the sole right of navigating those waters, and all the commerce of europe with that portion of the east was exclusively in the hands of the latter people. the conquests of peter the great, and subsequently those of the celebrated catherine ii., changed this state of things. the russians advanced towards the south, and soon made themselves masters of the sea of azof, the crimea, and all the northern coasts of the black sea. nevertheless, it was not until july , , after six consecutive campaigns, and many victories achieved by the russians, by sea and land, that the treaty of kainardji was signed, which by throwing open the bosphorus and the dardanelles, effected a real revolution in the commercial relations of europe, and definitively secured to russia that immense influence which it exercises to this day over the destinies of the east. the treaty of kainardji ere long received a more ample extension. austria, france, and successively all the other powers, partook in the advantages of the black sea navigation. russia was, therefore, justly entitled to the gratitude of europe, for the new channels she had opened to its commerce. once mistress of the black sea, and free to communicate with the mediterranean, catherine earnestly applied herself to the foundation of a port, which should be at once military and commercial. the mouth of the dniepr, one of the largest rivers of russia, at first attracted her attention. general hannibal founded the town of kherson upon it, in , by her orders; and in , a frenchman, afterwards ennobled by louis xvi., established the first foreign commercial house there, and contracted to supply the arsenals of toulon with the hemp and timber conveyed down the dniepr. kherson, however, did not prosper as might have been expected. the empress's intentions were defeated by the exigencies of the system of customs prevailing in the empire, and it was impossible to obtain for the port of kherson the franchises so necessary for a new town, and for the extension of its commerce. the dismemberment of poland gave a new turn to catherine's commercial ideas. the port of kherson was abandoned, or nearly so, in , and the preference was given to odessa, which, by its more western position, considerably facilitated the exportation of agricultural produce, wherein consisted the chief wealth of the palatinates of podolia, volhynia, and the other provinces newly incorporated with the russian possessions. no change, however, was made in the system of customs, and it was not until , in the reign of alexander, that a reduction of one-fourth was made in the duties imposed by the general tariff on all exports and imports in the harbours of the black sea. in , odessa was made an entrepôt for sea-borne goods, the entrance of which was permitted into russia. they might remain there in bond for eighteen months; a favour which was the more important at that period, because, as the import duties were considerable, the merchants would have been obliged to draw heavily on their capital, had they been obliged to defray them at once. an ukase of the th of march, in the same year, allowed transit, free of duty, to all foreign goods which were not prohibited in odessa, or which arrived there from other towns of russia; such goods if destined for moldavia and wallachia, were to pass through the custom-houses of mohelef and dubassar; for austria, through those of radzivilof; for prussia, through those of kezinsky; and foreign goods sent through these four establishments to odessa, were allowed free transit there by sea. these liberal and very enlightened arrangements vastly augmented the prosperity of odessa, and soon attracted the attention of all speculators to that port. about the year an increased duty was laid on all foreign goods in the black sea; but at the same period odessa was definitively declared to be a free port, without restriction. things continued thus until ; and it was during this interval that all those great foreign houses were established in odessa, some of which exist to this day. the commerce of southern russia had then reached its apogee. after the long wars of the french empire the agriculture of europe was in a very depressed condition, and it was necessary to have recourse to russia for the corn which other countries could not raise in sufficient quantity for their own subsistence. odessa thus became, under the wise administration of the duc de richelieu, one of the most active commercial cities of eastern europe; its population increased prodigiously; the habits induced by prosperity gave a new stimulus to its import trade, and every year hundreds of vessels entered its port to take in agricultural freights of all kinds. dazzled by this commercial prosperity, till then unexampled in russia, and, doubtless believing it unalterably established, the government then chose to return to its prohibitive system, and, whether through ignorance or incapacity, the ministry deliberately ruined with their own hands the commercial wealth of southern russia. in , at the moment when it was least expected, an ukase suppressed the freedom of the port of odessa, and made it obligatory on the merchants to pay the duties on all goods then in the warehouses. this excited intense alarm, and as it was totally impossible to pay immediately such enormous duties as those imposed by the general tariff of the empire, the merchants remonstrated earnestly and threatened, all of them, to commit bankruptcy. the governor of the town, dismayed at the disasters which the enforcement of the law would occasion, took it on his own responsibility to delay; and commissioners were sent to st. petersburg to acquaint the emperor with the state of commerce in odessa. alexander, whose intentions were always excellent, and who had no doubt been deceived by false reports, promptly annulled the ukase. the freedom of the port of odessa was therefore re-established, but not to the same extent as before. concessions were made to the board of customs, a fifth of the duties exacted in other russian ports was imposed on goods entering odessa, and the other four-fifths were to be paid on their departure for the interior. the limits of the free port were also considerably reduced, and two lines of custom-houses were formed, the one round the port, the other round the town. these lines still subsist. the victories of the board of customs did not stop here, and new measures, suggested and supported no doubt by fraud, were put in force. we have spoken of the free transit traffic through the towns of doubassar, radzivilov, and odessa. this traffic was increasing rapidly; all the merchants of western asia were beginning to take the odessa route to make their purchases in the great fairs of germany. there was every probability that odessa would be one of the principal points of arrival and exchange for all the produce of europe and asia. the transcaucasian provinces enjoyed very extensive commercial freedom at this period by virtue of an ukase promulgated, october , . redoutkalé, at the mouth of the phasis, on the shores of mingrelia, was then the port to which all the goods from leipsic were conveyed by sea; from thence they passed to tiflis and erivan, and were then distributed over all the adjacent countries, through turkey, armenia, and even as far as persia. the armenians had secured this traffic almost exclusively to themselves. they appeared for the first time in odessa in . the next year they advanced as far as leipsic, where they bought european manufactures to the amount of more than , francs; in their purchases rose to , , francs, and in to , , . all these goods were conveyed by land to odessa, and there embarked on the black sea for redoutkaleh. it may easily be conceived what a happy influence such a traffic would have exercised over the agriculture and cattle rearing of southern russia, and eventually on the prosperity of the population engaged in this carrying trade. but all these promising elements of prosperity were to be annihilated by the narrow views of the minister of finance. the commercial franchise of the caucasian provinces, after having lasted for ten years, was suddenly suppressed on the first of january, . the most rigorous prohibitive system was put in force; tiflis, the capital of georgia, more than miles from the black sea, was made the centre of the customs administration, and all goods destined for that part of asia had to pass through that town to be examined there and pay duty. by these arbitrary and exclusive measures, the government thought to encourage native manufactures; and by prohibiting the goods of germany, france, and england, it hoped to force the productions of russia on the trans-caucasian provinces. the transit trade was, of course, proscribed at the same period. by a first ukase, the merchants were forced to deposit at the frontier in radzivilof, double the value of their goods, and the money was only to be returned to them at odessa, upon verification of their bales. it is obviously not to be thought of that merchants, however wealthy, should carry with them, in addition to the capital to be expended on their purchases, double the value of their goods _in transitu_. this new measure, therefore, was sufficient of itself alone to put an entire stop to the transit trade. the persians and armenians forsook this route, and chose another, to the great detriment of russia. at present the value of the transit is from , to , francs, the goods being chiefly yellow amber, sent from prussia to turkey. for a charge of fifteen francs per twenty kilogrammes, the jews undertake to give security to the customs in title-deeds, which they hire at the rate of five or six per cent., and they despatch the goods directly to odessa. england, always so prompt to seize opportunities, took advantage of the blunders of russia. she secured a position in trebizond, and her merchants, recoiling from no sacrifice, formed there an immense entrepôt, from which they soon sent out the manufactures of their country into all the provinces of asia. business to the amount of more than , , _l._ sterling, is now carried on in trebizond, and two sets of steamboats ply between it and constantinople. thus russia lost one of the most important commercial lines in the world, and by her extravagant increase of duties she completely extinguished the lawful import trade of the caucasian provinces. but english and other foreign goods still find their way there by contraband, and the government officers are themselves the first to profit by this system; for they are still more desirous than the native inhabitants to procure manufactured goods, and, above all, at a moderate price. the prohibitive measures of russia have, therefore, really recoiled on the government itself, and the treasury loses considerably by them, not only in the caucasus, but also on the european frontiers. owing to the freedom of its port, the town of odessa, of course, suffers less from the disastrous effects of this prohibitive system, and finds some commercial resources in its own consumption, and in that of its environs. nevertheless, as this consumption, (which notwithstanding the contraband trade is kept in full vigour by the jews, and even by the highest classes,) is out of all proportion to the exportation, and as there is very little exchange traffic, foreign vessels are gradually deserting the black sea; and, besides this, their charges for freight are necessarily too high, in consequence of their being obliged in almost every instance to repair in ballast to the harbours of south russia. then we must take into account the remoteness of the black sea; the dread, not yet quite effaced, with which it is regarded; the impossibility of finding freights anywhere except in odessa; the excessive severity of the winter, and the usual obstructions of the harbours by ice during three or four months every year. all these things combine to repel mariners; so that nothing, except extraordinary cheapness and great profits, could induce merchants to send their vessels for freight to the ports of southern russia. thus driven away by the prohibitive system of russia, many nations are seeking to establish markets for their productions elsewhere. it is also to be remarked that agriculture has made very great progress in europe since the re-establishment of peace; and consequently the exportation of corn from russia has considerably diminished. nevertheless, we are of opinion that southern russia would have lost little of its agricultural importance, notwithstanding its system of customs, if the government, instead of remaining stationary, had sincerely entered on a course of improvement. all circumstances seem to combine in new russia to make the productions of the soil as economical as possible, and to enable them to compete successfully with those of all other countries. the soil is virgin and very abundant; labour is cheap and the price of cattle extraordinarily low; whilst serfdom, by obliging thousands of men to employ at least half their time for the benefit of their lords, ought naturally to tend to diminish the price of bread stuffs. unfortunately the means of communication have been totally neglected, and the government has taken no steps to facilitate transport; in consequence of this the price of grain, instead of falling is constantly increasing, and merchants are no longer willing to purchase except in seasons of scarcity. the wheat sent to odessa from khivia, volhynia, podolia, and bessarabia, arrives in carts drawn by oxen. the journeys are tedious, the extreme rate of travelling being not more than fifteen miles a day; and they are costly, for the carriage of a tchetvert or seven bushels of corn varies from four to six rubles; moreover, the transport can only be effected between may and september in consequence of the deplorable state of the roads during the other seven months of the year. the result of all this is that wheat, though very cheap in the provinces we have mentioned, is quoted at very high prices comparatively at odessa, so as not to leave foreign speculators a sufficient profit to compensate for the length of the voyage to the black sea, the outlay of capital, and the enormous expenses caused by the quarantines to which many goods are subject. besides this, odessa is the only port that offers any facilities for commerce; kherson situated in the midst of a fertile and productive region, is only a harbour of export, and its commerce cannot possibly extend; for the ships destined to take in freight at that port must previously perform quarantine in odessa. all the landowners are therefore forced to send their produce to odessa, if they would have any chance of sale. but, as we have already observed, the means of communication are everywhere wanting. it must, indeed, be owned that the construction of stone-faced roads is attended with great difficulty, for throughout all the plains of southern russia the materials, are scarce and for the most part of bad quality, being limestone of a friable character. but might not the produce of a great part of poland, and of all new russia, be conveyed to odessa by the pruth, the dniestr, and the dniepr? the only goods conveyed down the dniestr consist at present of some rafts of timber and firewood from the mountains of austrian gallicia. the russian government has repeatedly been desirous of improving the navigation of the river in compliance with the desire of the inhabitants of its banks. a survey was made in , and again in . unfortunately all these investigations being made by men of no capacity led to nothing. an engineer was commissioned in to make a report on the works necessary for rendering the river practicable at jampol, where it is obstructed by a small chain of granite. he estimated the expense at , francs, whereas it was secretly ascertained that , would be more than enough. the project was then abandoned. thus with the best and most laudable intentions, the government is constantly crippled in its plans of amelioration whether by the incapacity or by the bad faith and cupidity of its functionaries. last year the subject of the navigation of the dniestr was again taken up, and it is even alleged that the russian government has given orders for two steam-vessels destined to ply on that river. the works on the dniepr are scarcely in a more forward state than those of the dniestr. it is known that below iekaterinoslaf the course of the river is traversed by a granite chain, which extends between that town and alexandrof, a distance of more than fifteen leagues. at the time of the conquest of the crimea and the shores of the black sea, it was proposed to render navigable the thirteen rapids that form what has been improperly denominated the cataracts of the dniepr. works were begun at various times, but always abandoned. they were resumed under nicholas with new ardour, but the government was soon discouraged by the enormous cost, and, above all, by the peculations of its servants. the whole amount of work done up to the present time is a wretched canal yards long, more dangerous for barges to pass through than the rapids themselves. this canal was finished in . the works had not yet been resumed when we left russia in . the rapids of the dniepr are therefore still as impracticable as ever, and it is only during the spring floods, a period of a month or six weeks, that barges venture to pass them; and even then it rarely happens that they escape without accident. more than eighty men were lost in them in , and a multitude of barges and rafts were knocked to pieces on the rocks. the goods that thus descend the dniepr consist almost exclusively of timber and firewood, and siberian iron. corn never makes any part of the cargo, because in case of accident it would be lost beyond recovery. but what will really seem incredible is, that the german colonists settled below the rapids, are obliged to convey their produce to the sea of azov in order to find any market for it; hence the greater part of the government of iekaterinoslaf, and those of poltava and tchernikof, watered by the dniepr, are in a perpetual state of distress, though they have wheat in abundance; and the peasants sunk into the deepest wretchedness, are compelled every year to make journeys of miles, and often more, to earn from six to seven francs a month in the service of the landowners on the borders of the black sea. the eastern part of the government of iekaterinoslaf profits by the vicinity of the sea of azov, and tries to dispose of its corn in taganrok, marioupol, and berdiansk, a port newly established by count voronzof. this general survey of the means of transport possessed by russia, is enough to show that the corn-trade of these regions owes its vast development in a great measure to fortuitous circumstances; and that the absence of easy communication, and the prohibitive system, both tend to bring it down lower and lower every year. here follows a statement of the price of corn at tulzin, one of the least remote points of volhynia, and the cost of carriage to odessa, during the years - , and , , . - . rubles. - - . price of kilogrammes of wheat on the spot . . cost of carriage to odessa . . export duties . . ------- -------- total . . or _ s. d._ _ s. d._ from this table we see that prices rose remarkably during the latter years. we must remark, however, that the years - - , were unusually productive, and the prices prevailing in them are by no means an average. but it is altogether obvious that with such prices, and an absolute blank in importation, the commerce of southern russia must necessarily perish. in , the merchants could only offer the masters of merchant vessels two-and-a-half francs per sack for freight to marseilles, while the latter can hardly realise any profit even at the rate of four francs. for trieste they offered only twenty, and even eighteen kreutzers, whereas not less than sixty will yield any remuneration. ship owners will not henceforth be tempted to visit odessa in quest of gain. the english alone have obtained tolerable freights. to all these causes of ruin are to be added the enormous charges to which merchants are subject; those of the first class pay rubles for their licence, always in advance; the postage charges for letters are exorbitant; there are persons whose yearly correspondence costs , , , , , rubles. an ordinary letter to london pays seven and even eight rubles. again, the great merchants not choosing to sit idle, keep up the high prices by their purchases: they may no doubt gain occasionally by these speculations, but they generally lose. witness the disasters and failures of the year . what chance of prosperity can there be for a trade that at the moment of the departure of the goods, hardly ever promises any profit at the current prices in the place of destination, and which consequently lives only on the hope of an eventual rise? how will it be with it in a few years, when the canals and railroads projected in germany, shall have been finished? at this day the wheat of nuremberg and bamberg, reaches england by way of amsterdam. but without going so far, southern russia now sees growing up against it in the black sea a competition, which is daily becoming more formidable. the principalities of the danube, have made immense progress in ten years, in consequence of the franchises and privileges bestowed on them by the treaty of adrianople. galatz and ibraïla, now furnish a considerable quantity of corn to the foreigner; and in spite of the disadvantages of having to ascend the danube, masters of vessels now prefer repairing to those ports on account of their administrative facilities, and above all by reason of the commercial resources which importation offers there. in , marseilles bought more than hectolitres of wheat in the markets of galatz and ibraïla, whilst the port of odessa hardly supplied it with twice that quantity. we will return by and by to the question of the danube, when we come to speak of bessarabia. another measure fatal to the corn-trade, was the decision of the government with respect to the confiscated lands of the poles. after the revolution of , more than , peasants were sequestrated to the crown. these peasants occupied extremely fertile regions lying very near odessa: ouman, the property of alexander potocki, made part of them. the government committed the management of these lands to public servants, selected chiefly from among the retired veteran officers, or those who had been incapacitated for service by their wounds. under such management, pillage and the most utter neglect were the order of the day, and the consequence was, that the lands produced literally nothing to the crown, and served only to enrich their administrators. weary of this disorder, the government determined in to detach nearly , peasants from these lands, and incorporate them with the military colonies. nor did it stop there, but under pretext of removing all opportunity for extortion on the part of its servants, it issued an order in , confining the new colonists to the cultivation of oats and barley, and forbidding them to sow wheat for exportation. these regulations, occasioned by the general corruption of the public servants, which the imperial will is powerless to check, produced melancholy results for the trade of odessa, and that town was suddenly deprived of the agricultural produce it used to draw from the fertile soil of ouman. we must now enter into some considerations, bearing more immediately on odessa itself. the credit that town enjoys abroad is extremely limited by the inordinate privileges of the imperial bank. in cases of bankruptcy, that establishment is entitled to disregard all competing claims, and to pay itself immediately by the sale of the real and personal property of its debtor, without reference to his other creditors; it is entitled to pay itself: st. the capital lent; nd. a surcharge of eight per cent., called re-exchange, arising out of the cost of brokerage and renewal of bills every three months; and, rd. interest on the capital and surcharge, at the rate of - / per cent, per month, until the whole debt is liquidated. the fatal effects of such a system may easily be conceived; the merchants of odessa can seldom establish a credit with foreign houses. as for the uses of the bank, they consist: st. in discounting town bills that have not more than four months to run; nd. in making advances on goods; rd. in serving as a bank of deposit for the mercantile houses; th. in giving drafts on the other banks of the empire, and paying their drafts on itself; th. in receiving deposits on interest. the drafts were of great use in commerce, particularly for the payments between st. petersburg, moscow, and odessa: the charge upon them was a quarter per cent., whilst the conveyance of money through the post costs one per cent., besides postage. this convenient system was unfortunately put an end to in . the charge on drafts now amounting to five per cent., operations of this kind have consequently become impossible. it was, probably, with a view to the revenues of the post-office, that this sage measure was adopted by the minister of finance. every one knows, that in order that a bank of discount should carry on business profitably for itself and for the commerce it is intended to assist, it must deal only in genuine commercial bills. merchants recognise as genuine and discountable bills, only those drawn by other places for banking operations, and home bills drawn in consideration of goods sold for payment at a determinate future date. now the odessa bank not being a bank of issue, does not practise acceptance properly so called; constantinople is almost the only town that draws on odessa, and that but for small amounts, and as these acceptances are at twenty-one days' date, they are rarely discounted. sales of goods for bills are also seldom practised, and from all we could learn, we believe they make but a very small part of the business of the odessa bank. goods are generally bought in that town on trust and without bills. on what bases then have the operations of the odessa bank hitherto rested? rather, we are disposed to think, on fictitious than on real commerce. from its first establishment, the bank, strong in its privileges, thought to serve trade by encouraging discounts; and the facilities it afforded, induced many persons to avail themselves of this means of credit. every one in odessa knows how many disasters have been the consequence. suppose a merchant wished to make a speculation, to buy for instance, a ship-load of wheat, amounting to , _l._; if he had only , or , rubles capital, he obtained the indorsement of one or more of his friends, and the bank immediately advanced him the whole sum necessary, at three months. the merchant was, therefore, forced to dispose of his goods as fast as possible, in order to meet his engagements with the bank: clogged and disturbed in his operations, and fearing lest he should involve his friends, he must often have incurred great losses, and after a few similar speculations, his ruin, and that of his friends were inevitable. such has been the fate of many a merchant, in consequence of the unfortunate facility they found in obtaining money. the bank ought to have been aware, that instead of genuine commercial bills, it was discounting mere accommodation paper, and that there is an immense difference between discount for the realisation of business actually done, and discount for the realisation of business yet to be done. unquestionably, the bank ought to have modified its system, after seeing the mischiefs it led to; but it has persisted in its original course, and were it to desist from it without a radical change of institutions, the operations of an establishment constructed on so vast a scale would become quite insignificant. hitherto, then, the bank of odessa has completely failed to answer the purpose for which it was founded; it has done infinitely more harm than good to trade, and its enormous privileges have, moreover discredited odessa abroad. the abolition of these privileges could repair the errors and mischiefs of the first establishment. the bank would thereby be compelled to discount only genuine commercial paper, and to do business on a much smaller scale; but its operations, though restricted, would be but the more advantageous for itself and for commerce; every one would then conduct his business with, reasonable regard to the extent of his means; failures would no longer be so ruinous to creditors; and this new bank, in correspondence with those of st. petersburg and moscow, by continuing to make transfers as in the beginning, and by accepting deposits at four per cent., would suffice for all the wants of the place. unfortunately, judging from the last measure adopted with respect to transfers, there is no hope whatever that a new bank will be established, or that the existing one will undergo the requisite reforms. yet if the russian government, which persists in its prohibitive system, wishes to avoid the complete destruction of the commerce of southern russia, it must absolutely change its line of conduct, it must devote its strenuous attention to the means of internal communication, and render the commercial transactions of odessa as easy and economical as possible. what is most deplorable in russia is, that the truth never finds its way to the head of the state, and that a public functionary would think himself undone if he disclosed the real state of things; hence in the memoirs, reports, and tables laid before the emperor, the good only is acknowledged, and the evil is always disguised. once committed to this course of dissimulation and lying, the public functionaries render all improvements impossible; and by always sacrificing the future to the present, do incalculable mischief to the country. the question is now entertained, of depriving odessa of its last franchises, and putting its port on the same footing with the other commercial places of the empire. if count cancrine has not yet succeeded in doing this, the town has to thank the protection and the influence of count voronzof. the following table shows the exports and imports at the different ports and custom-houses of southern russia, during the years and , the value being set down in paper rubles. exports. --------------------------+---------------------+---------------------- ports. | . | . --------------------------+----------+----------+----------+----------- | goods. | specie. | goods. | specie. | | | | odessa | , , | , | , , | , ismael (on the danube) | , , | , | , , | reny (on the danube) | , | , | , | , {novoselitza| , , | , | , , | , in bessarabia {skouliany | , | , | , | , {leovo | , | , | , | , taganrok | , , | " | , , | marioupol | , , | " | , , | berdiansk | , , | " | , , | kertsch | , | " | , | theodosia | , , | " | , | eupatoria | , , | " | , , | balouclava | | | | |----------+----------+----------+----------- total | , , | , | , , | , imports. --------------------------+---------------------+---------------------- ports. | . | . --------------------------+----------+----------|----------+----------- | goods. | specie. | goods. | specie. | | | | odessa | , , | , , | , , | , , ismael (on the danube) | , | , , | , | , reny (on the danube) | , | , | , | , {novoselitza| , | , , | , | , , in bessarabia {skouliany | , | , | , | , {leovo | , | , | , | , taganrok | , , | , , | , , | , , marioupol | | , | | , , berdiansk | " | , | " | , kertsch | { , | | { , | theodosia | { , | , , | { , | , , eupatoria | { , | | { , | balouclava | , | | | +----------+----------+----------+---------- total | , , | , , | , , | , , total of duties| " | , , | " | , , --------------------------+----------+----------+----------+---------- the foreign goods that entered the interior of the empire in , by way of odessa, amounted in value to , , paper rubles, which, curiously enough, was not even half the total importation of that port. from this we may judge of the consumption of odessa, and at the same time of the extent of the contraband trade. from these tables we see that there is no equilibrium in the trade of odessa. southern russia absorbs every year more than , , of foreign specie, and its exports are treble its imports. it is evident that such a trade rests on no solid basis; that its prosperity is due only to accidental circumstances, and that ships will gradually abandon the black sea, and seek some other destination, wherever agriculture flourishes, and is accompanied by a less exclusive system of customs. in the present state of things, the cultivation of corn in egypt would be enough to ruin immediately all the ports of southern russia. with such contingencies before it, the government of russia ought to ponder well before obstinately persevering in its present system. mariners do not like the northern parts of the black sea, and once they shall have left them, they will return to them no more. the year was most memorable in the commercial history of odessa. the exports, consisting almost entirely of corn, amounted to , , paper rubles. the harvests in the country had been very abundant, and as those of the rest of europe were very unpromising, the demand was at first so encouraging that the merchants launched out into the boldest speculations. these were successful for a while, but disasters soon followed, and the houses which were supposed to have realised profits to the amount of millions, failed a year or eighteen months afterwards. since that time trade has always been in a perilous state. in , under the still subsisting influence of the movement of the preceding year, there was a diminution of , , rubles; and in the first quarter alone presented a decrease of , , rubles in comparison with the corresponding quarter in . on examining a general table of the exportation of odessa, we see that during napoleon's wars its commerce, completely stationary, did not exceed five or six millions of rubles. after the events of , during the horrible dearth that afflicted all western europe, the exports rose in to more than , , . in they fell without any transition to , , . during the war of - they sank to , , . after the treaty of adrianople, southern russia, being encumbered with an excess of produce, the exports again rose to , , . after this they varied from twenty to thirty, until when they reached the highest point they ever attained, namely, , , . we have already explained the causes of this factitious augmentation. from these data we see that the activity of the trade of odessa has always arisen out of fortuitous circumstances, which are becoming more and more rare, and that it is by no means the result of the progressive development of agricultural resources: the country is, therefore, completely stationary. it is also easy to convince ourselves, by simple comparison, that the commerce of southern russia is far from prosperous. in , the most productive year, the custom-houses yield but , , rubles; and ten seaports distributed over more than leagues of coast, together with three land custom-houses, show on an average but from forty-five to fifty-five millions of exports, and hardly a third of that amount of imports; whilst trebizond alone annually sends out more than , , worth of english goods into the various adjoining countries. chapter v. navigation, charge for freight, &c. in the black sea. of all the seaboard of the east, the coasts of the black sea are those from which the expense of freight are the greatest. different circumstances combine in producing this effect. . the amount of importation being inconsiderable, most of the vessels must arrive in ballast, or with a very scanty cargo. . the vessels are exposed to long delays in the archipelago, and still more so in the dardanelles and the bosphorus. fifty days may be taken as the average duration of the voyage from marseilles, genoa, leghorn, or trieste, to odessa. it does not take longer to reach america from the same ports, by a voyage at once less difficult and more lucrative. . the black sea is situated at the extremity of the inland seas of europe, and its coasts, which have little traffic, especially with each other, offer few resources to merchant vessels; so that if there is nothing profitable to be done at odessa or taganrok, a ship has no alternative but to take freight at ruinously low prices, or to return in ballast, and retrace some hundred miles of a route on which it has already incurred such delays. certain merchants often take advantage of the distressing position of the masters, and for many years past, a part of the profits on some goods sent to the mediterranean, has regularly consisted in the sacrifices to which the shipowner has been compelled. . the passage through the straits of constantinople subjects vessels freighted in the russian ports for those of the mediterranean, to a quarantine which, besides consuming from thirty-five to forty days, always entails considerable expense. it is generally reckoned that it takes a vessel fully six months to accomplish the voyage both ways between a mediterranean port and odessa, and to get _pratique_ again, even supposing it to have tolerably favourable winds, and to obtain cargo almost immediately in the black sea, a thing which unhappily occurs very seldom. now a mediterranean brig of tons, or , tchetverts' burden, has a crew that costs at least rubles a month for wages and keep. if we add to this, for wear of rigging, insurance, and harbour-dues rubles, we shall have more than rubles a month for ordinary expenses, without reckoning what storms and other casualties may occasion. thus the cost of a six months' voyage will amount to rubles. before , the average price of freight in paper rubles was as follows: per per tchetverts, tchetvert. or tons. for constantinople . , trieste . , leghorn . , genoa . , marseilles . , holland . , england . , from this table it appears that the freights did not pay the ordinary expenses of the vessels, with the exception of those bound for england, holland, and genoa, under the sardinian flag. odessa has hardly any intercourse with the portion of the black sea coast subject to the sultan, but it often furnishes cargoes for the banks of the danube, to vessels of not more than twelve feet draught. these vessels usually proceed to galatz and ibraïla. those which have no return cargo, touch at toultcha and isacktcha, to take in firewood; others ship a cargo at galatz and ibraïla, for constantinople and the mediterranean. good prices for freight are generally procured in the danube, particularly of late years. the progress of agriculture in the principalities, and the facilities met with in their ports, attract foreign captains, and many of them have entirely forsaken odessa for galatz. the government supplies, the war in the caucasus, and private speculations likewise afford employment to a certain number of vessels between odessa and the russian provinces of the black sea, and the sea of azov. the prices of freight in these cases depend on the greater or less demand, but they are always kept very low by the competition of kherson _lodkas_ (large coasting vessels). these lodkas ply at a very cheap rate, but they are exposed to risks which ought to make them less sought after than better built and better commanded vessels. the passage from odessa to taganrok, is tedious and expensive, above all for vessels which are obliged to be accompanied with lighters, in order to pass the straits of kertch where the waters are low, and must then anchor in the taganrok-roads, at a distance of ten from the shore. we may confidently estimate the voyage between taganrok and odessa both ways, as of two months' duration. thus navigation is hardly more prosperous than trade itself. if it has hitherto maintained a part of its activity, this must be attributed to the great number of vessels belonging to the mediterranean, to the influence of a past period, fertile in profit, and to commercial routine. nevertheless, a revolution is gradually taking place, and already many vessels that formerly frequented the russian ports, have found means to employ themselves advantageously on the ocean. we find their names mentioned in foreign journals, in the shipping intelligence from america and india, and it is probable they are quite as successful there as others that have not yet chosen to visit the coasts of southern russia. chapter vi. agriculture and manufactures of southern russia--mineral productions--russian workmen. in justification of its prohibitive system, the government alleges the protection and encouragement it owes to native industry. now it is evident that absolute exclusion cannot favour industry. the high tariff, it is true, seems to secure a certain market for russian manufactures; but it results from it that those manufactures, being kept clear of all competition, are worse than stationary; for the manufacturers, whose number is very limited, agree among themselves to turn out exactly the same sort of workmanship, and in the same proportion. moscow is now the centre of all the manufactures of silk, cotton, and woollen stuffs, shawls, &c.; yet, in spite of all the privileges secured to those establishments by the tariff, a great number of them have failed of late years. their goods have become so bad that they could no longer compete in sale with smuggled articles. in , or , the emperor made a journey to moscow, on purpose to preside over the meeting of manufacturers; but unfortunately ukases and proclamations are inefficient to create a body of manufacturers; the imperial desires in nowise altered the face of things. there are at this day, in russia, two great branches of manufacturing industry, one of which, employing the raw materials furnished by the soil, such as iron, copper, and other metals, belongs properly to russia, and has no need to fear foreign competition. it is true we cannot speak very highly of the russian hardware and cutlery, but they find a sure sale, the inhabitants caring more for cheapness than quality. the most important manufactures of this sort are established at toula, and in the government of nijni novgorod; the materials are furnished by siberia. the ural is one of the most remarkable mountain chains on the globe, for the extent and variety of its mineral wealth. i say nothing of its gold, silver, and platina ores; they add too little to the real prosperity of the country to call for mention here. the iron ores of siberia are generally of superior quality; but as the processes to which they are subjected, are somewhat injudicious, the iron produced from them is seldom as good as it might be. the working of the iron mines has been a good deal neglected of late years, landowners having turned their attention chiefly to the precious metals; hence the prices of wrought and cast iron have risen considerably in southern russia, which employs those of siberia exclusively. the carriage is effected for this part of the empire by land; in one direction by the volga, the don, and the sea of azov, in another by the dniepr. the journeys are long and expensive, and often they cannot be effected at all in consequence of irregularities either in the arrivals, or in the river floods. the present price of pig-iron is from eighteen to twenty francs for the kilogrammes, and of bar-iron from forty-four to forty-five francs, in kherson and odessa. i do not know the prices at the places where the iron is produced, but whatever they may be, these figures show how much russia has yet to do towards facilitating the means of internal communication. of copper, lead, &c., notwithstanding the cost of carriage, russia exports a considerable quantity to foreign countries. not content with these valuable sources of wealth, which alone would suffice for the support of a vast and truly national industry, russia has thought it desirable to create for herself a manufacturing industry such as exists in other countries of europe, and to arrive at this end she has devised a system of the most absolute prohibition. how far has she been successful? of all european countries russia is unquestionably placed in the most unfavourable circumstances for contending with foreign manufactures. situated as she is at the extremity of europe, she can only be reached by long, difficult, and expensive routes; and as her manufactures of stuffs, silks, &c., are all concentrated in moscow, the expenses of carriage are enormous. thus the cottons landed in odessa are first carried to moscow, and then return, after being wrought, to the governments of the black sea. the want of capable and intelligent workmen is also one of the most serious obstacles to the establishment of manufactures; the russian peasant is essentially agricultural, and knows nothing of handicraft trades, except so far as they are of service to him in his daily labours; and then, by constitution and by the effects of that long slavery that has weighed and still weighs upon him, his ideas are naturally contracted and can never apply themselves to more than a single object. the sole talent he possesses in a really remarkable degree is that of imitation. the black enamelled work of the caucasus is admirably imitated at toula; and at lughan, in the government of iekaterinoslaf, they make very pretty things in berlin iron, copied from prussian models. this talent for imitation is no doubt valuable in the workshops where they are constantly making the same set of things, and in the same way; but it becomes completely inefficient in the manufactories for piece-goods, in which there must be incessant innovation and improvement: hence we find all the great manufactories, after being at first managed by foreign superintendents and workmen, fall gradually into decay from the moment they are transferred to native hands. the russians are essentially destitute of imagination and the spirit of invention; and then the proneness of the workmen to laziness and drunkenness cannot but be fatal to industry. the workman is always seeking some pretext to escape from labour; he has his own calendar, in which the number of holidays is doubled; these he employs in getting drunk, and the days following them in sleeping off his liquor. the result is, that he passes half the year in doing nothing, that he strives to sell his day's work at the dearest possible rate, and that the working time being thus indefinite, it is impossible to fix punctually the time of production. this unhappy moral condition of the labouring classes is the same throughout all russia, and may be regarded as one of the worst evils incidental to the native industry. to these obstacles, proceeding from the very nature of the people, are superadded physical difficulties no less imperious. in france, england, and germany, when any new manufacture is established, it always rests on other branches already in existence, and about which it has no need to employ itself. in russia, on the contrary, in order to succeed in any branch of manufactures, it is necessary at the same time to create all the accessories connected with it. every one knows what a vast quantity of merino and other wools southern russia supplies, and it would seem at first sight that of all manufactures that of woollen cloths ought to offer the fairest chances of success in that country. but it is not so: i have visited two or three cloth factories on the banks of the dniepr belonging to foreigners, and managed by them with an ability beyond all praise; yet it was with the utmost difficulty and through the personal labour of their proprietors that they were able to subsist. the government itself, some years ago, erected at iekaterinoslaf one of the largest cloth manufactories i am acquainted with; the looms were set in motion by two steam-engines, and several hundred workmen were employed. the establishment, nevertheless, was closed after three years' existence, and i myself saw all the materials sold at a great depreciation. the number of manufacturing establishments of all sorts in russia amounted in to , and that of the workmen employed to , , not including those engaged in the mines and in the smelting-houses, forges, &c., belonging to them. we will enumerate as the most important branches of russian industry:-- establishments. manufactories of cloth and woollen stuffs silks cottons canvass and other linen goods tan yards tallow-melting houses manufactories of candles soap metal ware in this table the manufactories of woollen cloths, silks, and cottons, together figure but as ; and yet it is in a great measure to the supposed encouragement which the government desires to afford these branches of industry, that russia owes her system of customs; for setting aside a few objects of luxury, russia has no need to fear foreign competition with regard to any other articles. certainly, if the silk and cotton manufactures could exercise a beneficial influence upon the prosperity of the country, if they were necessary to supply the wants of the whole population, in that case we could to a certain extent understand the sentence of exclusion pronounced on foreign goods; but the productions of the moscow factories are destined only for the aristocracy and the trading classes, and the , , of slaves that constitute the european population of russia, consume but an insignificant portion of them, all their clothes being wrought by their own hands. it is not surprising then that all the manufacturing establishments are concentrated in moscow, that being the place where the aristocratic and trading part of the community exist in most considerable numbers, and where there is most certainty of finding customers. everywhere else the chances of success would be few or none: witness southern russia where all manufacturing attempts have hitherto failed, notwithstanding the advantages it derives from its seaports. the three governments composing it reckon at this day but workmen, even including those who work in the rope walks and the tallow houses. according to authentic documents the numbers of the nobility and tradespeople do not exceed , , . without a complete alteration, therefore, in the manners and habits of the peasants, it is impossible to hope that the manufacture of piece-goods can ever attain a great development, and it would have been infinitely better to have left the supply of these articles to importation; the imperial treasury would thereby have been a gainer, and more active relations with the foreigner would have afforded valuable guarantees for the prosperity of the country. but russia suffered herself to be seduced by the most brilliant branch of industry of our times; she, too, wished to have her cachemires and her silks; and not considering that agriculture is for her the most lucrative, the most positive of all branches of industry, she recoiled from no prohibitive measure in order to favour some indigenous manufactures. i say again, russia is before all things a country for the production of raw materials. agriculture, including therein the breeding of cattle, evidently forms the basis of the national prosperity, and it is only by facilitating its extension and its outlets that russia can hope to secure the future welfare of its people. if at this day the establishment of new villages in southern russia is becoming so difficult, it is not for want of land, but because the peasants have no means of ready transport for their produce, and because also the want of importation, naturally exercising a great influence upon the price of corn, signally restricts the demand from abroad. is it not indeed deplorable to see the most fertile and productive governments of new russia sunk in extreme penury by the want of roads, and by the culpable neglect of the administration which deprives them of the navigation of the rivers! will the government at last open its eyes to the mischiefs of the course it is pursuing? we can scarcely hope so. all the commercial reports of the empire dress up things in so fair a light, and the public functionaries agree so well together in falsifying public opinion, that the emperor, beguiled by the brilliant picture incessantly laid before his eyes, cannot but persevere in the fatal course adopted by his predecessors. chapter vii. departure from odessa--travelling in russia--nikolaÏef, olvia, otshakof--kherson--the dniepr--general potier-- ancient tumuli--steppes of the black sea--a russian village--snow storm--narrow escape from suffocation--a russian family--appendix. after some months' stay in odessa, we left it in company with general potier, a frenchman by birth, to pass the winter at his country-house. travelling would nowhere be more rapid than in russia, if the posting-houses were a little better conducted and more punctual in supplying horses. the country is perfectly flat, and you may traverse several hundred leagues without meeting a single hill. besides this, the russian driver has no mercy on his horses; they must gallop continually, though they should drop dead under the whip. another reason that contributes to the rapidity of posting, is, that there are never less than three or four horses yoked to the lightest vehicle. the general's carriage being rather heavy, we had six horses, that carried us along at the rate of fifteen versts (ten miles) an hour. we found the rooms in the posting-stations much more elegant than we had expected; but this was owing to the journey of the imperial family, for whom they had been completely metamorphosed. the walls and ceilings were fresh painted with the greatest care, and we found everywhere handsome mirrors, divans, and portraits of the emperor and empress. thanks, therefore, to the transit of their majesties, our journey was effected in the most agreeable manner, though on ordinary occasions, one must make up his mind to encounter all sorts of privations and annoyances in a long excursion through russia. the towns are so few, and the villages are so destitute of all requisites, that one is in sore danger of being starved to death by the way, unless he has had the precaution to lay in a stock of provisions at starting. the post-houses afford you literally nothing more than hot water for tea, and a bench to rest on. the russian and polish grandees never omit to carry with them on their journeys a bed with all its appurtenances, a whole range of cooking implements, and plenty of provisions. in this way they pass from town to town, without ever suspecting the unfortunate position in which the foreigner is placed who traverses their vast wildernesses. the latter, it may be said, is free to follow their example; but the thing is not so easy. supposing even that he was possessed of all this travelling apparatus, still the expense of carriage would imperatively forbid his taking it with him, whereas the russians, who generally travel with their own horses, may have a dozen without adding to their expenses. as for those who have recourse to the post, they care very little about economy, and provided they have a good dinner prepared by their own cooks, a soft bed and all other physical comforts, they never trouble themselves to calculate the cost. but as for the foreigner who travels in this country, the inconvenience i have just mentioned is nothing in comparison with the countless vexations he must endure, simply because he is a foreigner. having no legal right to lay his cane over the shoulders of the clerks of the post, he must make up his mind to endure the most scandalous impositions and annoyances at their hands, and very often he will be obliged to pass forty-eight hours in a station, because he cannot submit to the conditions imposed on him. neither threats nor entreaties can prevail on the clerk to make him furnish horses if it does not suit his humour. the epithet _particularnii tcheloviek_ which is applied in russia to all who do not wear epaulettes, and which signifies something less than a nobody, is a categorical reply to the traveller's utmost eloquence. before we reached kherson, we stopped at nicolaïef, a pretty town, which has been for some years the seat of the admiralty formerly established in kherson, and which is daily increasing at its rival's expense. its vast dockyards attract a whole population of workmen, whose presence swells its wealth and importance. its position on the bug, its new houses and pretty walks planted with poplars, make it the most agreeable town in the government. when we passed through it, a splendid ship of the line of three decks had just been completed, and was waiting only for the ceremony of being christened to take its place in the black sea fleet. four or five leagues below nicolaïef, on the right bank of the bug, near its embouchure in the liman[ ] of the dniepr, are the ruins of olvia or olviopolis, a milesian colony founded about b.c. there have been found inscriptions and medals which put the origin of these remains beyond all doubt. lower down on the liman of the dniepr, not far from the sea, is the fortress of otchakov, which formerly belonged to the turks, and then formed a considerable town, known by the name of ozou. it was twice taken by the russian troops on the th of june, , under the command of marshal munich, and on the th of december, , under potemkin. at present, not a trace of the turkish sway remains in the village. all the mussulman buildings have been pulled down to give place to a steppe, on which some russian cabins and about fifty miserable shops have been set up. the environs of otchakov also present traces of the abode of the ancient greeks. in there were found here a fragment of a bas-relief in tolerable preservation, a male torso, and an offering with an inscription from certain greek military chiefs to achilles, ruler of the pontus. otchakof was founded at the close of the fifteenth century, by mengli chereï, khan of the crimea, on the ruins of alektor, a little town belonging to a queen of the sauromatians, and which was destroyed probably by the getæ at the same time as olvia, b.c. alektor must have possessed specimens of greek workmanship, but they disappeared under the hands of the turks, who employed them in building otchakov. kherson, where we arrived in the evening, retains no relics of its ancient opulence, or of the importance it derived scarcely fifty years ago from its commerce, its port, and its admiralty; at present, it exhibits the melancholy spectacle of a town entirely ruined; its population does not exceed or souls. odessa and nicolaïef have dealt it mortal blows, and it now subsists only by its entrepôt for the various productions of the empire, which are conveyed to it by the dniepr, and forwarded by lighters to odessa. it has even lost its custom-house for imports, retaining only the privilege of exporting; and beside this, the vessels which take in cargo at kherson, must first perform quarantine in odessa. fevers and the jews are likewise formidable foes to its prosperity. expelled from nicolaïef and sevastopol, the israelites swarm like locusts in kherson, and form almost its whole population. nothing can be more hideous than the appearance of the russian jews. dressed in a uniform garb, consisting of a long robe of black calico, fastened with a woollen girdle, canvass drawers, and a broad-brimmed black hat, they all present so degraded a type of humanity, that the eye turns from them with deep disgust. their filthiness is indescribable; the entrance of a single jew into an apartment is enough suddenly to vitiate the atmosphere. we had already had occasion in odessa to see into what an abject state this people is fallen in russia; but it was not until we came to kherson that we beheld them in all their vileness. what a contrast between their sallow faces, disgusting beards, and straggling locks, plastered flat on the skin, their brutified air, and crawling humility, and the easy, dignified bearing, the noble features, and the elegant costume of the jews of constantinople! it is impossible to bring oneself to believe there is any thing in common between them, that they belong to the same race, and have the same rules and usages, the same language and religion. but the cause which has produced such a difference between two branches of one people, is a question involving political and philosophical considerations of too high an order, to be discussed here; all we can say, is that, in seeing the jews of kherson, and comparing them with their brethren of the east, we had evidence before us of the depth to which governments and institutions can debase mankind. the streets of kherson are thronged with these miserable israelites, who carry on every kind of trade, and recoil from no species of occupation, provided it be lucrative. their penury is so great, that they will run from one end of the town to the other for a few kopeks, and in this respect they are of much use to the stranger, who would be greatly embarrassed if they were not at hand, ready to render him every possible service. the moment a traveller arrives at an inn, in new russia, he is beset and persecuted without ceasing by these officious agents, who place at his disposal their goods, their persons, all they have and all they have not. it is to no purpose he threatens them and turns them out a hundred times; they care little for abuse; and do what you will, they sit themselves down on the ground opposite your door, and remain there with imperturbable phlegm, waiting their opportunity to walk in again, and renew their offer. many a time have we seen jews thus spend four or five hours consecutively, without evincing the least impatience, or seeming to regret the waste of time they might have employed more profitably, and go away at last satisfied with having gained a few kopeks. it was in the government of kherson that the plan of forming jewish colonies was first tried. several were established in the districts of kherson and bobrinetz, and in these contained nine villages, with a population of souls, settled on , _hectares_ of land. all the new colonists are wholly exempt from taxation for ten years; but after the lapse of that time, they are placed on the same footing as the other crown peasants, except that they remain free from military service for fifty years. the colonisation of these jews was no easy matter; at first, it was necessary to keep the most rigorous watch over them, to prevent them from leaving their villages. the colonists are all dependent on the governor-general of new russia, and each of their villages is under the control of a non-commissioned officer of the army. i have not the least idea of the object for which the government founded these colonies, which, as far as agriculture is concerned, can be of no use to the country. was its motive one of a philanthropic kind? i do not think so. i should rather suspect that the prospective advantages in a military point of view may have been the inducement, an opinion, which seems justified by the fact, that the russian government has found it necessary, for some years past, to enrol the jews by force in the naval service. the unfortunate men are chiefly employed as workmen, and i have seen great numbers of them in the arsenals of sevastopol and nicolaïef. the aspect of kherson is as dismal as that of nicolaïef is brilliant and lively. nothing is to be seen but dilapidated houses and abandoned sites, which give it the appearance of a town devastated by war. but viewing it from a distance, as it rises in an amphitheatre on the banks of the dniepr, with its numerous belfries, its barracks, and its gardens, one would be far from suspecting the sort of spectacle its interior presents. above all, one cannot conceive why a town in such a position, with a river close at hand, navigable for ships of war, should have been thus abandoned; but such has been the imperial will, and kherson, completely sacrificed to odessa, now shows scarcely any signs of life, excepting its great wool washing establishments, which employ hundreds of workmen, and its retail trade, which the jews monopolise. the only remains of its past greatness the town has preserved, are its title as capital of the government, and its tribunals. the governor resides in it, no doubt much against his will; but many great families have forsaken it on account of the fevers prevailing in it during a part of the year, with more fatal violence than in any other region. they are occasioned by the wide sheets of water left behind by the inundations of the dniepr, and which, finding no issue when the river returns to its bed, stagnate among the reeds, until the rays of the sun are strong enough to make them evaporate. fetid and pestilential exhalations then rise, and produce malignant and typhoid fevers that almost always prove mortal. the population of kherson, like that of all the other towns in southern russia, is a medley of jews, armenians, russians, greeks, italians, &c.; a few french have been long settled there, and have acquired some wealth; some deal in wood, others are at the head of the wool-washing establishments i have already mentioned. among the latter, there is a parisian, who, by dint of washing and rewashing wool, and that too on another's account, has managed to amass nearly , _l._ in less than eight years. the _lavoirs_ of mm. vassal and potier are the most considerable in kherson, giving daily employment to more than men. the dniepr seen from kherson, resembles a vast lake studded with islands; the views it presents are very beautiful, and partake very much of the character of maritime scenery. the estate we were going to lay on the other side of the river, and we had the pleasure of travelling about fifteen versts by water, through the labyrinth of islands, and a constant succession of the most enchanting views. we found horses waiting for us on the opposite bank, and in less than four hours we were at clarofka, our journey's end. m. potier, the proprietor of clarofka, is an ex-pupil of the polytechnic school, who was sent to st. petersburg by napoleon, with three colleagues, to establish a school of civil engineering. in , the government fearing lest they should join the french, sent them away to the confines of china, where they were detained more than two years. when our troops had evacuated russia, and the presence of these young men was no longer to be feared, the emperor alexander recalled them, and gave them each a pension of rubles, to indemnify them for their exile. from that time forth, they all made rapid progress in fortune and in honours. m. potier was for a long while director of the civil engineering institution. he is highly esteemed by the emperor nicholas, who wished to attach him completely to his court, by conferring on him a post of the highest importance, but m. potier always refused, and at last succeeded in obtaining permission to retire. he is the son-in-law of m. rouvier, who made himself popular in russia and even in france, by being the first to introduce the breed of merino sheep into southern russia. m. potier followed his father-in-law's example, and has more than , sheep on his estate. the estate of m. vassal, another son-in-law and successor of m. rouvier, is but a dozen versts from clarofka. it is larger than many a german duchy; but instead of the fertile fields and thriving villages that adorn germany, it presents to view only a vast desert with numerous tumuli, salt lakes, and a few sheep folds. these tumuli exact models of mole-hills, from ten to fifteen yards high, are the only hills in the country, and appear to be the burial-places of its old masters, the scythians. several of them have been opened, and nothing found in them but some bones, copper coins of the kings of bosphorus, and coarse earthen utensils. similar tombs in the crimea have been found to contain objects of more value, both as regards material and workmanship. this difference is easily accounted for; the milesian colonies that occupied part of the crimea years ago, spread a taste for opulence and the fine arts all through the peninsula; their tombs would, therefore, bear token of the degree of civilisation they had reached. they had a regular government, princes, and all the elements and accessories of a kingdom; whilst our poor scythians, divided into nomade tribes like the kirghises and kalmucks of the present day, led a rude life in the midst of the herds of cattle that constituted their sole wealth. agriculture could never have yielded much in these steppes, where rain is extremely rare in summer, where there are neither brooks nor wells for irrigation, and where hot winds scorch up every thing during the greater part of the fine season. it is only on the banks of the rivers that vegetation makes its appearance and the eye rests on cultivated fields and green pastures. there are indeed here and there a few depressions, where the grass retains its verdure during a part of the year, and some stunted trees spread their meagre branches over a less unkindly soil than that of the steppe; but these are unusual circumstances, and one must often travel hundreds of versts to find a single shrub. such being the general configuration of the country, it may easily be imagined how cheerless is the aspect of those vast plains with nothing to vary their surface except the tumuli, and with no other boundaries than the sea. no one who is unaccustomed to that monotonous nature can long endure its influence. those dreary wastes seem to him a boundless prison in which he vainly exerts himself without a hope of escape. and yet that flat and barren soil from which the eye turns away so contemptuously, has become a source of wealth to its present proprietors by the great success of the first experiments in merino sheep-breeding. it was m. rouvier, who first conceived the happy idea of turning the unproductive steppes into pasture. the emperor alexander, always ready to encourage liberal ideas, not only advanced the projector a sum of a hundred thousand rubles, but gave him even a man-of-war to go and make his first purchases in spain, and on his return, granted him an immense extent of land, where the flocks, increasing rapidly, brought in a considerable fortune to m. rouvier in a few years. his sons-in-law, general potier and m. vassal inherited it, and formed those great establishments of which we have spoken. thenceforth the stock of merinos increased with incredible rapidity in new russia; but an enormous fall in the price of wool soon occurred, and many proprietors have now reason to regret their outlay in that branch of rural economy, and are endeavouring to get rid of their flocks. the rams which fetched or francs in and , were not worth more than or in . in , a landowner of our acquaintance had made up his mind to part with his best thorough-bred rams for and even francs a head. the exportation of wool increased, nevertheless, during the last years of our stay in russia; but this was only because the landowners, after holding out a long while, found themselves at last constrained to accept prices one-half lower than those current a few years before, and to dispose of the wools they had long kept in their warehouses. here was another instance of the disastrous consequences of the russian prohibitive system; it has been as fatal to the wool-trade as to that in corn. clarofka is a village consisting of fifteen or twenty houses, each containing two families of peasants. it is some distance from the farm, which alone contains more dwellings and inmates than the whole village. the steward resides in a very long, low house, with small windows in the russian fashion, and an earthen roof, and standing at the edge of a large pond, the fetid exhalations from which are very unwholesome during the hot season. a few weeping-willows wave their branches over the stagnant water, and increase still more the melancholy appearance of the spot. the pond is frequented by a multitude of water-fowl, such as teal, gulls, ducks, pelicans, and kourlis, that make their nests in the thick reeds on the margin. beside the house, according to the russian custom, stand the kitchens and other offices, the icehouse, poultry-yard, wash-house, cellar for fruit and vegetables, &c. a little further on are the stables and coach-houses, containing a great number of carriages, caleches, droshkies, and a dozen horses; other buildings, including the workmen's barracks, the forge, the gardener's and the miller's dwellings are scattered irregularly here and there. two great wind-mills lift their huge wings above the road leading to the village. all this is not very handsome; but there is one thing indicative of princely sumptuousness, namely, an immense garden that spreads out behind the house, and almost makes one forget the steppes, so thick is the foliage of its beautiful alleys. one is at a loss to conceive by what miracle this park, with its large trees, its fine fruit, and its charming walks, can have thus sprung up out of the scorched and arid soil, that waits whole months for a few drops of water to clothe it in transient verdure. and indeed to create such an oasis in the heart of so barren a land, there needed not one miracle, but a series of miracles of perseverance, toil, and resolution, seconded by all the means at the disposal of a russian lord. all kinds of fruit are here collected together; we counted more than fifty varieties of the pear in one alley. grapes of all kinds, strawberries, beds of asparagus of incomparable flavour, every thing in short that the most capricious taste can desire, grows there in such abundance, that seeing all these things one really feels transported into the midst of regions the most favoured by nature. no one but a russian lord could have effected such metamorphoses. master of a whole population of slaves, he has never to pay for labour; and whims which would be ruinous to others, cost him only the trouble of conceiving them. in the dry season, which often lasts for more than five months, chain pumps worked by horses supply water to every part of this extensive garden, and thus afford what the unkind skies deny it. the work to be done in the spring season generally requires the labour of more than pair of hands daily, and during the rest of the year three-score peasants are constantly employed in pruning the trees, plucking up the weeds that rapidly spring up in the walks, training the vines, and attending to the flowers. in return for all this expenditure the general has the satisfaction of seeing his table covered with the finest fruits and most exquisite preserves; and for one who inhabits a desert these things unquestionably have their value. on the whole clarofka is a real _pays de cocagne_ for good cheer: the steppes abound with game of every kind, from grouse to the majestic bustard. a hunter is attached to the farm, and daily supplies the table with all the delicacies of this sort which the country affords. the sea also contributes abundance of excellent fish. it is evident, therefore, that in a gastronomic point of view it would be difficult to find a more advantageous residence; but this merit, important as it is, fails to make amends for the intolerable ennui one labours under in clarofka. thanks to the garden, one may forget the steppe during the fine season; and then there is the amusement of fishing, and of picking up shells on the sea-shore, so that one may contrive to kill time passably well. but what are you to do in winter, when the snow falls so thickly that you cannot see the houses, particularly when the _metel_ turns the whole country topsy-turvy? no language can give an idea of these _metels_ or hurricanes. they come down on the land with such whirling and driving gusts, such furious and continuous tempests, such whistlings and groanings of the wind, and a sky so murky and threatening, that no hurricane at sea can be more alarming. the snow is now piled up like a mountain, now hollowed into deep valleys, and now spread out into rushing and heaving billows; or else it is driven through the air like a long white veil expanding and folding on itself until the wind has scattered its last shreds before it. in order to pass from one house to another, people are obliged to dig paths through the snow often two yards deep. whole flocks of sheep, surprised by the tempest not far from their folds, and even herds of horses, have been driven into the sea and drowned. when beset by such dangers their instinct usually prompts them to cluster together in a circle and form a compact mass, so as to present less surface to the _metel_. but the force of the wind gradually compelling them forwards, they approach the shore, the ground fails them, and finally they all disappear beneath the waves. these tempests are generally succeeded by a dead calm, and an intense cold that soon changes the surface of the dniepr and the sea-shore into a vast mirror. this is the most agreeable part of the winter. the communications between neighbours are renewed; sporting expeditions on a great scale, excursions in sledges, and entertainments within doors follow each other almost without interruption. despite the intensity of the cold, the russians infinitely prefer it to a milder temperature, which would put a stop to their business as well as to their pleasures. the great fairs of the empire generally take place in winter; for then the frozen lakes and rivers serve the inhabitants as a safe and rapid means of communication. in this way they traverse immense distances without quitting their sledges, and even without perceiving whether they are on land or water. wrapped up in their furs they encounter with impunity a temperature of ° for several consecutive days, without any other auxiliaries than brandy and tea, which they consume in fearful quantities. during our winter residence in clarofka, we had an opportunity of convincing ourselves that people suffer much less from cold in northern than in southern countries. in constantinople, where we had passed the preceding winter, the cold and the snow appeared to us insupportable in the light wooden houses, open to every wind, and furnished with no other resource against the inclemency of the weather than a manghal, which served at best only to roast the feet and hands, whilst it left the rest of the body to freeze. but in russia even the mujik has constantly a temperature of nearly ° in his cabin in the very height of winter, which he obtains in a very simple and economical manner. a large brickwork stove or oven is formed in the wall, consisting of a fireplace and a long series of quadrangular flues ending in the chimney and giving passage to the smoke. the fire is made either of _kirbitch_[ ] or of reeds. when these materials are completely consumed, the pipe by which the flues communicate with the chimney is hermetically closed, and the hot air passes into the room by two openings made for that purpose. exactly the same apparatus is used in the houses of the wealthy. the stoves are so contrived that one of them serves to heat two or three rooms. the halls, staircases, and servants' rooms, are all kept at the same temperature. but great caution is necessary to avoid the dangers to which this method of warming may give rise. i myself was saved only by a providential chance from falling a victim to them. i had been asleep for some hours one night, when i was suddenly awakened by my son, who was calling to me for drink. i got up instantly, and without waiting to light a candle i was proceeding to pour out a glass of water, but i had scarcely moved a few steps when the glass dropped from my hand and i fell, as if struck with lightning, and in a state of total insensibility. i had afterwards a confused recollection of cries that seemed to me to have come from a great distance; but for two minutes i remained completely inanimate, and only recovered consciousness after my husband had carried me into an icy room and laid me on the floor. my son suffered still more than myself, but it happened most strangely that my husband was not in the smallest degree affected, and this it was that saved us. the cause of this nocturnal alarm was the imprudence of a servant who had closed the stove before all the kirbitch was consumed; this was quite enough to make the atmosphere deadly. all the inmates of the house were more or less indisposed. the hothouse temperature kept up in all the apartments cannot fail to act injuriously on the health. for more than ten months the outer air is never admitted into the house, and foreigners are affected in consequence with an uneasy sense of oppression and a sort of torpor that almost incapacitates them for thinking. as for the russians, who are habituated to the thing from their childhood, they suffer little inconvenience from it; nevertheless many maladies probably owe their origin to this artificial warmth, which is equally enervating for body and mind. to this cause, no doubt, we must attribute the utter absence of blooming freshness from the cheeks of the russian ladies. incapable of enduring the slightest change of temperature, they have not the least idea of the pleasure derived from inhaling the fresh air, and braving the cold by means of brisk exercise. but for dancing, of which they are passionately fond, their lives would pass away in almost absolute immobility, for lolling in a carriage is not what i call putting oneself in motion. there is scarcely any country where women walk less than in russia, and nowhere do they lead more artificial lives. we had a russian family for two months at clarofka, returning from the waters of the caucasus, and waiting until the sledging season was fully set in, to get back to moscow. this family, consisting of a husband and wife and the sister of the latter, was a great godsend for us during part of the winter. madame bougainsky is a very clever young woman, equally well acquainted with our literary works as with our parisian frivolities. but dress and play are for her the two grand concerns of life, and all the rest are but accessories. i do not think she went out of doors three times during her two months' stay in clarofka. the habit of living in the world of fashion and in a perpetual state of parade had taken such inveterate hold on her, that, without thinking of it, she used to dress three or four times a day, just as if she were among the salons of moscow. i learned from her that the russian ladies are as fond of play as of dancing, and that many ruin themselves thereby. on the whole, there is little poetry or romance in the existence of russian women of fashion. the men, though treating them with exquisite politeness and gallantry, in reality think little about them, and find more pleasure in hunting, smoking, gaming, and drinking, than in lavishing on them those attentions to which they have many just claims. the russian ladies have generally little beauty; their bloom, as i have said, is gone at twenty; but if they can boast neither perfect features nor dazzlingly fair complexions, there is, on the other hand, in all their manners remarkable elegance, and an indescribable fascination that sometimes makes them irresistible. with a pale face, a somewhat frail figure, careless attitudes, and a haughty cast of countenance, they succeed in making more impression in a drawing-room than many women of greater beauty. footnotes: [ ] _liman_, a tartar word signifying harbour, is the name given to the gulfs formed by the principal rivers of southern russia before their entrance into the sea. [ ] kirbitch consists of dung kneaded into little bricks, and dried in summer. along with straw and reeds, it forms the only firing used for domestic purposes. at odessa, however, they procure firewood from bessarabia, but it costs as much as ninety francs the cube fathom. appendix to chapter vii. a propensity to sedentary habits is not peculiarly a female failing in russia, as will appear from the following extract: "the russian has as little taste for promenading on foot as any oriental. hence, with the exception of the two capitals, and the north-west provinces, in which german usages prevail, there are no public walks or gardens for recreation. true enjoyment, according to the notions of the genuine muscovite, consists in sitting down to a well-furnished table, either in his own house or a neighbour's, and indulging after the repast in some game which requires the least possible exertion of body. soon after my arrival in kasan, i was glad to employ the early days of summer, which there begins at the end of may, in making pedestrian excursions in the neighbourhood, to the great and general surprise of my new friends, who could not conceive why i thus roamed like an idiot about the country, in which i had no business, as they very well knew. it was conjectured that i was ill, and had adopted this laborious discipline as a mode of cure; but even under this interpretation my proceedings seemed very strange to them, for their own invariable practice when they feel unwell, is to go to bed immediately. in one of my walks i fell in with an acquaintance, who asked me what took me to the village, to which he supposed i was going. on my replying, that i had nothing whatever to do there, and that as yet i had neither seen the village nor any of its inhabitants, he said then of course i was going to look at it. no, i told him, that was not my intention, for i knew very well i should see nothing there different from any of the other villages in the vicinity. 'well, then, daddy (_batiushka_),' said my puzzled and curious friend, 'do tell me, what is it you are afoot for?' 'i am afoot, simply for the sake of being afoot,' was my answer, 'for the pleasure of a little exercise in the open air.' my friend burst into a loud fit of laughter at this explanation of my rambling habits, which had so long been an enigma to himself and every body else. to walk for walking sake! he had never heard any thing like that in all his life, and it was not long before this most novel and extraordinary phrase ran the round of the whole town, so that even to the following year it remained a standing joke against me in every company i entered."--_von littrow._ _suffocating vapours._--accidents like that which befel madame hommaire, are unavoidably frequent under such a system of warming, and with servants so negligent as those in russia; but happily they do not often end fatally. the worst result of them is generally a violent headache, all trace of which disappears the following day. incredible as it may appear, the common people take pleasure in the sort of intoxication produced by the inhalation of diluted carbonic acid, and purposely procure themselves that strange enjoyment on leisure days. "they close the stoves before the usual time, and lie down on them; for in the peasants' houses the stoves are so constructed as to present a platform, on which the family sleep in winter. on entering a cabin on these occasions, you see the inmates lying close together on their bellies, chatting pleasantly with one another. their faces are tumid and of a deep red hue, from the effects of the noxious gas. there is an unusual lustre in their protruding eyeballs, and in short, they have all the outward appearance of intoxication, though the intellectual functions are not affected by the gas. the headache they suffer may, indeed, be a drawback to their pleasure, but the increased warmth thus obtained, is so delightful to them, that they are content to purchase it even at that price. there is no mistaking their evident enjoyment and satisfaction, though one may not be tempted to partake in their joy." another mode of obtaining artificial heat is practised in what the russian peasants call their smoke-rooms. these rooms have but a few very small windows, just large enough to pass the head through, and seldom glazed, except with talc, where that mineral is abundant and cheap. where this is not the case they are stopped up, in winter only, with moss and rags. when the fire is lighted, the chimney is closed, and the smoke escapes through the stove-door into the room. being lighter than the cold air, it ascends at first, and hangs overhead in a thick cloud. but as its mass increases, it gradually descends, until there is no standing upright in the room without danger of suffocation. as the smoke approaches the floor, so too do the inmates, first stooping, then kneeling, sitting, and at last lying prone. if the smoke threatens quite to reach the ground, they open the windows or air-holes, which are not quite level with a man's head, and the black vapour rushes out. the under part of the room is thus left free, the prostrate inmates gradually rise, and set about their occupations in the clear warm space below. the first time i entered one of these dark sooty dens, i was so disgusted with it, that i should not have hesitated in my choice between a prison and so horrible an abode. i was, therefore, not a little surprised when i saw the inmates lying on the floor, gossiping quite at their ease, and bandying about jokes that will hardly bear repeating, but which manifested a degree of mirthfulness in these people i had, until then, thought quite impossible."--_idem._ chapter viii. an earthquake--ludicrous anecdote--sledging--sporting-- dangerous passage of the dniepr--thaw; spring-time--manners and customs of the little russians--easter holidays--the clergy. that same winter at p.m. on the th of january, we had a smart shock of earthquake, but which happily did no mischief in that part of the steppes. we were seated at the whist table, when we were suddenly startled by a loud rolling noise, that seemed rapidly approaching us, and the cards dropped from our hands. the sound was like that of a large heavily-laden waggon rattling over the pavement. scarcely two seconds after our first surprise the whole house received a sudden shock, that set all the furniture in motion, before the idea of an earthquake had occurred to our minds. this first shock was followed by another of longer duration, but less alarming character; it was like the undulation of the waves when they are seeking to recover their equilibrium. the whole house was filled with dismay, except the party in the drawing-room; with us surprise prevailed over fear, and we remained motionless as statues, whilst every one else was running out of doors. the earthquake, of which mention has been made in several journals, gave occasion to a ludicrous story that was related to us some days after. one of the general's peasants, an old fellow whose conscience was no doubt burthened with some weighty sin, imagined when he felt his house dancing like a boat on the waves, that the devil in person was come to bid him prepare to accompany him to the bottomless pit. tearing out his hair by the roots, bawling, roaring, and crossing himself, he begins to confess his sins aloud, and gives himself up to the most violent terror and despair. his wife, who was no less alarmed, accused her husband of all sorts of wickedness; the husband retorted on the wife, and the whole night was passed in unspeakable confusion. the day dawned, but brought no comfort to the unfortunate sinner, whose spirits were all in a ferment, like new wine. fully assured that the devil would soon come and lay his claws on him, he had no thought of going to his daily work. his wife was equally regardless of her household cares; what was the use of her preparing the porridge, when she and her husband were sure of breakfasting with lucifer? so there they sat, waiting the fatal moment, with an anxiety that would have petrified them at last, but for an unexpected incident. all the other peasants, probably having less on their consciences, had been a-field since dawn. the head man of the village missed petrovitch and his wife; he waited for them some hours, and at last bent his steps towards their cabin, calculating as he went how many stripes of the knout he should administer to them for their unpardonable neglect of duty. he steps in, but no one seems to notice his presence. petrovitch sits huddled together in a corner, staring before him with glassy eyes; whilst his wife, on her knees before a picture of st. nicholas, never for a moment interrupts her crossings and lamentations. "hallo! what's all this?" cries the overseer, "have you lost your wits, and don't you know that you ought to have been at work hours ago?" "oh ivan ivanovitch, it's all over; i shall never work again." "not work again, wont you? we shall see. come, start, booby!" and down comes the knout on the back of the peasant, who receives the blows with the most stoical composure. "o beat me if you like; it's all the same. what signify a few blows more or less, when a body is going to be roasted with the fiends?" "what on earth do you mean?" said the puzzled overseer; "what has happened to you to make you talk such nonsense?" "nonsense here, or nonsense there, i have had a warning in the night." ivan now recollected the earthquake, and suspecting he had found a clue to the mystery, burst into a hearty fit of laughter. "oh, you may laugh; but you don't know that i am a great sinner, and that the devil came last night to claim my soul." after amusing himself sufficiently with the man's terrors, the overseer had the utmost difficulty in convincing him that all the other houses had been shaken like his own, and that the devil had nothing to do with the matter. sledge driving is one of the greatest amusements of the russian winter. the horses, stimulated by the cold, sweep with you over the plain with the most mettlesome impetuosity. in the twinkling of an eye, you have left behind you the whole surface of a frozen lake, measuring several versts in length. it is a downright steeplechase: the keenness of the air, the rapid motion, the shouts of the driver urging the willing steeds, the vast plain that seems to enlarge as you advance, all produce an intense excitement, and pleasurably dispel the torpor caused by the indolent life of the steppes. we frequently crossed the dniepr in this manner, to drive about the streets of kherson, where all the fashion of the neighbourhood rendezvous from noon to two o'clock. it is an exercise which has as much charm for the russians as for foreigners; the smallest landowner, or the lowest clerk in a public office, though he earns but a few rubles a year, must have his sledge and his two horses, if he starves for it half the year. at the usual hour you may reckon more than a hundred sledges of every form, most of them covered with rich rugs and furs, chasing each other through the streets, and each containing a gentleman and lady, and a driver furred from head to foot. this sort of amusement is an admirable aid to coquetry. nothing can be more fascinating than those female figures wrapped up in pelisses, and with their faces dimly seen through their blonde veils; appearing for an instant, and then vanishing into the vaporous atmosphere, followed by many a tender glance. i must say a few words as to the field sports of the steppes. shooting parties use a very long low carriage called a _dolgushka_, and accommodating more than fifteen persons seated back to back. the feet rest on a board on each side about a foot from the ground. behind the driver is a large box for holding provisions and all the accoutrements of the sportsmen; and the game is received in another box fixed at the end of the carriage. nothing can be more convenient for country parties. the _dolgushka_ is drawn by four horses yoked abreast; birds are much less afraid of it than of a man on foot, and come near enough to allow the sportsman to shoot without alighting. parties often amounting to many hundreds, both nobles and peasants, assemble for the pursuit of wolves, foxes, and hares. the usual scene of these hunts is a desert island belonging to general potier. they begin by a general beating of the steppes, whereupon the wild animals cross the ice to the little island, thinking to be safe there from the balls of their pursuers; but their retreat is soon invaded. the hunters form a circle round the island, and then begins a slaughter that for some time clears the country of those sheep devourers. two or three battues of this kind take place every year, chiefly for the purpose of destroying the wolves that come in flocks and carry dismay into the sheep-folds. among the peculiarities presented by the plains of the black sea, i must not omit to mention the extensive conflagrations that regularly take place in winter, and remind one of the scenes witnessed by many travellers in the prairies of america. in russia, it is the inhabitants themselves who set fire to the steppes, thinking that by thus clearing away the withered herbage from the surface, they favour the growth of the new grass. but the flames being often driven by the winds in all directions, and over immense surfaces, now and then occasion great disasters; and there have been instances in which sheep-folds and whole flocks have been consumed. the thaw begins on the dniepr, about the end of march. it is preceded by dull cracklings and muffled sounds, giving token that the river is awakening from its long icy sleep, and is about to burst its prison. all communication between the farms and kherson is interrupted for more than six weeks; posts of cossacks stationed along the banks, give notice of the danger of crossing; but as the temperature is continually changing at that season, the final break-up does not take place for a long while. at the beginning of the thaw we persisted in going to kherson, in opposition to all advice. when we came to the banks of the dniepr and manifested our intention of crossing, all the boatmen stared at us in amazement, and not one of them would let us hire his sledge. we were therefore about to give up our project, when we saw two or three gentlemen coming towards us on foot across the dniepr, followed by an empty sledge. they told us that the river was partially clear of ice opposite kherson, and that it would be extremely dangerous to attempt crossing in a sledge. they had left kherson at six in the morning, (it was then ten) and had been all that time engaged in effecting their passage. they united with the boatmen in dissuading us from undertaking such a journey, the danger of which was now the greater, inasmuch as the sun had acquired much power since the morning; but all was of no avail; their sledge which they placed at our disposal decided the business, and we embarked gaily, preceded by a boatman, whom our example had encouraged, and who was to sound the ice before us. a glowing sun streamed over the vast sheet of ice, raising from it a bluish vapour, which the driver and the guide watched with lively anxiety. notwithstanding their looks of uneasiness we pushed on rapidly, and the boatman was oftener on the sledge than in advance of it. by and by, however, the sounds of cracking ice growing more and more frequent, rather cast a gloom over our imaginations, and made us begin to fear that we should meet with more serious obstacles further on. we saw the ice melting in some degree beneath the rays of the sun, and gradually parting from the shores of the islands we were coasting; and what still more augmented our uneasiness, was the elasticity of the ice, which bent very visibly under the motion of our sledge. its gradual rise and fall seemed like the breathing of the river, becoming more and more distinct as the ice diminished in thickness. as our guide still continued to advance, we had no other course than to follow him, and so we came to an arm of the dniepr, which is much dreaded on account of its current, the rapidity of which does not allow the ice to acquire much solidity even in the most intense frosts. we all proceeded to cross it on foot, each maneuvering as best he could on a surface as smooth as a mirror. at last, notwithstanding our zigzags, our tumbles, and the splitting of the ice, we found ourselves safe over the perilous passage, very much delighted at having escaped so well, and at feeling solid ground under our feet. we had then more than two versts to travel over an island, before we came to the branch of the river opposite kherson. with the utmost confidence, then, we seated ourselves once more in the sledge, and bounded away at full speed over a soft surface of snow melting rapidly in the sun. but it is always when the mind is most at ease, that accidents seem to take a malicious pleasure in surprising us. a wide crevice, which the driver had not time to avoid, suddenly yawned athwart our course; the sledge was immediately upset, and we were all pitched out. my husband, who was seated on the top of the baggage, was quite stunned by the blow; the driver and the guide, who were thrown a considerable distance from the sledge, remained motionless likewise; and as for me, i found myself rolled up in my pelisse in the middle of a bush. when i cast a look on my companions in misfortune, they were beginning to stir and to feel themselves all over. they seemed in no hurry to get up, and they cut such piteous figures, that i could not help laughing most heartily. notwithstanding our bruises we were soon on our legs, with the certainty that none of our bones were broken. the driver limped back to his seat, in great amazement at not receiving a severe castigation for his awkwardness. had this mishap occurred to russians, the poor fellow would not have escaped with less than a sound drubbing. we were more magnanimous, and imputed wholly to fortune an accident which, indeed, could not easily have been avoided. our journey continued without much to alarm us, until we were just about to commit ourselves to the wide arm of the dniepr, that still lay between us and the town. its surface presented an appearance that was really frightful. enormous banks of ice were beginning to move, and had already left a great part of the river exposed. besides this, the ice that still remained fixed, was so intersected with clefts, that we could not advance without serious danger. our position was becoming more and more critical, and we were thinking of returning to the island we had just left, and waiting until a boat could take us across to kherson; but as there would probably have been as much risk in returning as in proceeding, we continued our route but with the utmost caution. the first glow of exulting boldness was over, and we sorely regretted our temerity. the floor that separated us from the waters seemed so treacherous, that we every moment despaired of escape. this state of perplexity lasted more than an hour; but at last we reached the vessels that were ice-locked at some distance from the harbour. we were now in safety, and we finished our perilous expedition in a boat. two days afterwards a southerly wind had almost completely swept away the immense sheet of ice that for so many months had imprisoned the waters of the dniepr. the thaw took place so rapidly, that the river was free before any one could have noted the progress of its deliverance. in eight days there was not a vestige of ice, and we returned to clarofka, without experiencing any of the emotions we had felt on our first rash and picturesque expedition. but this mild weather, very unusual in the month of march, soon gave place to sharp frosts, which renewed the winter mantle of the dniepr, and did not entirely cease until the beginning of april. at this season the steppes begin to be clothed with a magnificent vegetation, and in a few days they have the appearance of a boundless meadow, full of thyme, hyacinths, tulips, pinks, and an infinity of other wild flowers of great sweetness and beauty. thousands of larks nestle in the grass, and carol everywhere over the traveller's head. the sea, too, partakes in the common gladness of the general season. its shells are more beautiful and more numerous; its hues are more varied, and its murmurs gentler. plants and animals seem all in haste to live and reproduce their kind, as if they foresaw the brief duration of these pleasant days. elsewhere, summer is often but a continuation of spring; fresh blossoms come forth, and nature retains her vital power for a long period; but here a fortnight or three weeks are enough to change the vernal freshness of the landscape into a sun-burnt waste. in all these countries there are really but two seasons; you pass from intense cold to a senegal heat; without the body having time to accustom itself to this sudden change of temperature. the sea-breezes alone make it possible to endure the heat which in july and august almost always amounts to ° or °. the thing to which the stranger finds it most difficult to accustom his eyes in russia, is the horrible sheep-skins in which men, women, and children are muffled at all times of the year. these half-tanned skins, which are worn with the wool inwards, give them a savage appearance, which is increased in the men by the long beard and moustaches they invariably wear. yet there are handsome faces to be seen among the russian peasants, and in this respect nature has been much more liberal to the men than to the women, who are generally very ugly. the dress of the latter consists in a shift with wide sleeves, fitting tight round the throat, and trimmed with coloured cotton, and a petticoat fastened below the bosom. instead of a petticoat, girls commonly wear a piece of woollen stuff, which laps across in front, without forming a single plait, and is fastened by a long, narrow scarf, embroidered at the ends. their legs are quite bare, and any rather sudden movement may open their singular garment more than is consistent with decorum. on holidays they add to their ordinary attire a large muslin cap, and an apron of the same material, adorned with a wide flounce. their hair is tied up with ribands, into two tresses, that fall on their shoulders, or are twisted into a crown on the top of the head. when they marry, they cease to wear their hair uncovered; a handkerchief of a glaring colour is then their usual head-dress. we are now speaking only of the women of little russia; but those of great russia retain the national costume called _serafine_, which is very picturesque, and is still worn at court on special occasions. the women of little russia, accustomed to field labour from their childhood, and usually marrying at the age of fifteen or sixteen, are old before they have reached their thirtieth year; indeed, one can hardly say when they cease to be young, since they never exhibit the bloom of youth. whether a russian woman's age be fifteen, twenty, or thirty, it is all one in the end. immediately after childhood, her limbs are as masculine, her features as hard, her skin as tanned, and her voice as rough as at a more advanced age. so much has been written about the relaxed morals and the drunkenness of the russian peasants, that we need not dwell on the subject. we shall only say that their deplorable passion for strong liquors, is continually on the increase, and that most of the young women are as much addicted to them as the old. it frequently happens that a peasant and his wife go on sunday to a _kabak_, drench themselves with brandy, and on their way back fall dead drunk into some gully, where they pass the whole night without being aware of their change of domicile. a fondness for dancing is another distinguishing characteristic of this people. you often see a party of both sexes assemble after work, and continue dancing all the evening. the ruthenians are remarkable for their gaiety and extreme indifference to worldly cares. leaving to their masters the whole trouble of providing for their lodging and maintenance, they never concern themselves about the future. their tasks once ended, they think only of repose, and seldom entertain any idea of working for themselves. when you pass through their villages, you never see the peasants busy in repairing their hedges, cultivating their gardens, mending their implements, or doing any thing else that bespeaks any regard for domestic comforts. no--the russian works only because he is forced to do so; when he returns from his labour, he stretches himself out to sleep on his stove, or goes and gets drunk at the next _kabak_. a curious custom i have noticed in southern russia, and which is common to all classes, is that of chewing the seeds of the melon or the sunflower, from morning till night. in order to indulge this taste, every one dries in the sun the seeds of all the melons he eats during the summer, and puts by his stock for the winter. i have seen many wives of _pometchiks_ (landowners) pass their whole day in indulging this queer appetite. in russia, as in all imperfectly civilised countries, religious ceremonies still retain all their ancient influence. they afford the peasant a season of pleasure and emancipation, that makes him for a moment forget his thraldom, to revel in intoxication. full of superstition, and indolent to an extreme degree, he longs impatiently for the interval of relaxation that allows him to indulge his favourite propensities. for him the whole sum and substance of every religious festival consists in cessation from toil, and in outward practices of devotion that bear a strong impress of gross idolatry. the russian thinks he perfectly understands and fulfils his religion, if he makes innumerable signs of the cross and genuflections before the smoky picture that adorns his isbas, and scrupulously observes those two commandments of the church, to fast and make lenten fare. his conscience is then quite at ease, even though it should be burdened with the most atrocious crimes. theft, drunkenness, and even murder, excite in him much less horror than the mere idea of breaking fast or eating animal food on friday. nothing can exceed the depravity of the russian clergy; and their ignorance is on a par with their vicious propensities. most of the monks and priests pass their lives in disgraceful intoxication, that renders them incapable of decently discharging their religious duties. the priestly office is regarded in russia, not as a sacred calling, but as a means of escaping from slavery and attaining nobility. the monks, deacons, and priests, that swarm in the churches and monasteries, are almost all sons of peasants who have entered the church, that they may no longer be liable to the knout, and above all to the misfortune of being made soldiers. but though thereby acquiring the right to plunder the serfs, and catechise them after their own fashion, they cannot efface the stain of their birth, and they continue to be regarded by the nobility with that sovereign disdain which the latter profess for all who are not sprung from their own caste. the great and the petty nobles are perfectly agreed in this respect, and it is not uncommon to see a pometshik raise his hand to strike a pope, whilst the latter humbly bows his head to receive the chastisement. this resignation, which would be exemplary if it were to be ascribed to evangelical humility, is here but the result of the base and crouching character of the slave, of which the russian priest cannot divest himself, even in the midst of the highest functions of his spiritual life. the appearance of the popes provokes equal disgust and astonishment. to see those men, whose neglected beards, besotted faces, and filthy dress, indicate a total want of all decent self-respect, it is impossible to persuade oneself that such persons can be apostles of the divine word. as usual in the greek church, they are all married and have large families. you may look in vain in their dwellings for any indication of their sacred character. a few coarsely-coloured pictures of saints, and a few books flung into a corner of the room, in which the whole family are huddled together, are the only marks of the profession exercised by the master of the house. as they receive nothing from the state, it is the unfortunate serfs who must support their establishments, and even supply them with the means of indulging their gluttony and drunkenness. it is particularly on the eve of a great church festival, that the russian priest is sure of an abundant harvest of poultry, eggs, and meal. easter is the most remarkable of these festivals, and lasts a whole week. during the preceding seven weeks of lent, the russian must not eat either eggs, meat, fish, oil, butter, or cheese. his diet consists only of salted cucumbers, boiled vegetables, and different kinds of porridge. the fortitude with which he endures so long a penance, proves the mighty influence which religious ideas possess over such rude minds. during the last few days that precede the festival, he is not allowed to take any food before sunset, and then it may be fairly admitted that brandy is a real blessing for him. it is impossible to imagine all the discussions that take place between the popes and the peasants on these occasions. as the russian must then fulfil his religious duties, whether he will or not, he is at the mercy of the priest, who of course makes him pay as dearly as he can for absolution, and keeps a regular tariff, in which offences and punishments are set down with minute precision. thus for a theft, so many dozens of eggs; for breach of a fast, so many chickens, &c. if the serf is refractory, the punishment is doubled, and nothing can save him from it. the thought of complaining to his lord of the pope's extortionate cupidity never enters his head; for assuredly, if he were to adopt such a course, he would think himself damned to all eternity. as long as the holidays last, the lords keep open table, and every one is free to enter and take part in the banquet. such was the practice of the _knias_ (princes) and boyards of old, who lived as sovereigns in their feudal mansions, and extended their hospitality to all strangers, without distinction of country or lineage. many travellers allege that this patriarchal custom still prevails in some families of great russia. but here, except on gala days, most of the pometshiks live in such a shabby style, as gives but a poor idea of their means or of their dispositions. to return to our easter holidays: the last week of lent is employed in making an immense quantity of cakes, buns, and easter bread, and in staining eggs with all sorts of colours. a painter was brought expressly from kherson to our entertainer's mansion for this purpose, and he painted more than eggs, most of them adorned with cherubims, fat-cheeked angels, virgins, and all the saints in paradise. the whole farm was turned topsy-turvy, the work was interrupted, and the steward's authority suspended. every one was eager to assist in the preparations for merry making; some put up the swings, others arranged the ball-room; some were intent on their devotions, others half-smothered themselves in the vapour baths, which are one of the most favourite indulgences of the russian people: all in short were busy in one way or other. a man with a barrel organ had been engaged for a long while beforehand, and when he arrived every face beamed with joy. the russians are passionately fond of music. often in the long summer evenings, after their tasks are ended, they sit in a circle and sing with a precision and harmony that evince a great natural aptitude for music. their tunes are very simple and full of melancholy; and as their plaintive strains are heard rising at evening from some lonely spot in the midst of the desert plain, they often produce emotions, such as more scientific compositions do not always awaken. at last easter day was come. in the morning we were greatly surprised to find our sitting-room filled with men who were waiting for us, and were meanwhile refreshing themselves with copious potations of brandy. the evening before we had been sent two bottles of that liquor, and a large basket of cakes and painted eggs, but without any intimation of the use they were to be put to; but we at once understood the meaning of this measure, when we saw all these peasants in their sunday trim, and a domestic serving out drink to them, by way i suppose of beguiling the time until we made our appearance. the moment my husband entered the room, all those red-bearded fellows surrounded him, and each with great gravity presented him with a painted egg, accompanying the gift with three stout kisses. in compliance with the custom of the country my husband had to give each of them an egg in return, and a glass of brandy, after first putting it to his own lips. but the ceremony did not end there: _kooda barinya? kooda barinya?_ (where is madame), _nadlegit_ (it must be so), and so i was forced to come among them and receive my share of the eggs and embraces. during all easter week the peasant has a right to embrace whomsoever he pleases, not even excepting the emperor and the empress. this is a relic of the old patriarchal manners which prevailed so long unaltered all over northern europe. in russia, particularly, where extremes meet, the peasant to this day addresses the czar with _thou_ and _thee_, and calls him father in speaking to him. when we had got rid of these queer visitors we repaired to the parlour, where the morning repast was served up with a profusion worthy of the times of pantagruel. in the centre of the table stood a sucking pig flanked with small hams, german sausages, chitterlings, black puddings, and large dishes of game. a magnificent pie containing at least a dozen hares, towered like a fortress at one end of the table, and seemed quite capable of sustaining the most vehement onslaught of the assailants. the sondag and the sterlet, those choice fish of southern russia, garnished with aromatic herbs, betokened the vicinity of the sea. imagine, in addition to all these things, all sorts of cordial waters, glass vases filled with preserves, and a multitude of sponge cake castles, with their platforms frosted and heaped with bonbons, and the reader will have an idea of the profuse good cheer displayed by the russian lords on such occasions. general potier, surrounded by all his household retinue, and by some other guests, impatiently awaited the arrival of the pope, whose benediction was an indispensable preliminary to the banquet. he arrived at ten o'clock precisely, accompanied by a monk, and began to chant a hallelujah, walking two or three times round the table; then blessing each dish separately, he concluded by bravely attacking the sucking pig, to the best part of which he helped himself. this was the signal to begin; every one laid hold on what he liked without ceremony; the pie, the hams, and the fish, all vanished. for more than a quarter of an hour nothing was to be heard but a continual noise of knives and forks, jaws munching, and glasses hobnobbing. the pope set a bright example, and his rubicund face fully declared the pleasure he took in fulfilling such functions of his office. the russians in general are remarkable for gluttony, such as perhaps is without a parallel elsewhere. the rudeness of their climate and their strong digestive powers would account for this. they make five meals daily, and those so copious and substantial that one of them would alone be amply sufficient for an inhabitant of the south. during the repast a choir of girls stood before the windows and sang several national airs in a very pleasing style; after which they received the usual gratuity of nuts with tokens of the liveliest glee. the russians are strict observers of all ancestral customs, and easter would be no easter for them if it came without eggs or nuts. on leaving the breakfast table we proceeded to the place where the sports were held; but there i saw nothing of that hearty merriment that elsewhere accompanies a popular holiday. the women, in their best attire, clung to the swings, i will not say gracefully, but very bodily, and in a manner to shame the men, who found less pleasure in looking at them than in gorging themselves with brandy in their smoky _kabaks_. others danced to the sound of the organ with cavaliers, whose zigzag movements told of plenteous libations. some old women nearly dead drunk went from one group to another singing obscene songs, and falling here and there in the middle of the road, without any one thinking of picking them up. we noticed on this occasion an essential characteristic of the russian people. in this scene of universal drunkenness there was no quarrelling; not a blow was struck. nothing can rouse the russians from their apathy; nothing can quicken the dull current of their blood; they are slaves even in drink. next day we went to dine with one of the general's neighbours, who gave us a most sumptuous reception. before we sat down to table, we were shown into a small room with a side-board loaded with cold meat, caviar, salted cucumbers, and liqueurs, all intended to whet our appetites. this collation, which the russians call _sagouska_, always precedes their meals; they are not content with their natural appetite, but have recourse to stimulants that they may the better perform their parts at table. all the time of dinner we were entertained by a choir of forty young men who sang some fine harmonised pieces, and some cossack airs that pleased us much. our entertainer was one of the richest landowners in new russia, and his manner of living partakes of many of the old national usages. his musicians are slaves taught by an italian long attached to the establishment in the capacity of chapel master. such are the easter festivities. as the reader will perceive, they consist on the whole in eating and drinking inordinately. the whole week is spent in this way, and during all that time the authority of the master is almost in abeyance; the coachman deserts the stables, the cook the kitchen, the housekeeper her store-room; all are drunk, all are merry-making, all are intent on enjoying a season of liberty so long anticipated with impatience. the rejoicings in the town are of the same character. the _katchellni_, a sort of fair lasting three days, brings together all classes of society. the nobles and the government servants ride about in carriages, but the populace amuse themselves just as they do in the country, only they have the pleasure of getting drunk in better company. chapter ix. excursion on the banks of the dniepr--doutchina--election of the marshals and judges of the nobility at kherson--horse-racing --strange story in the "journal des dÉbats"--a country house and its visiters--traits of russian manners--the wife of two husbands--servants--murder of a courier--appendix. we left clarofka in may, to explore the banks of the dniepr, and the shores of the sea of azov. the object we had in view was purely scientific, but the journey became doubly interesting by affording us a closer insight into the habits of russian society, and the manner in which noble families live on their estates. i had intended to visit taganrok, but on this occasion i proceeded no further than doutchina, the property of a baroness de bervick, who most hospitably insisted on my remaining with her whilst my husband was continuing his geological researches in the country of the cossacks. doutchina is situated on the post-road from kherson to iekaterinoslav, in a broad ravine formed by a brook that falls into the dniepr a little way from the village. from the high ground over which the road passes, the eye suddenly looks down on a beautiful landscape--a most welcome surprise for the traveller who has just passed over some hundred versts of uncultivated plains. in russia, travelling is not, as elsewhere, synonymous with seeing new sights. in vain your _troïka_ bears you along with dizzy speed; in vain you pass hours, days, and nights in posting; still you have before your eyes the same steppe that seems to lengthen out before you as you advance, the same horizon, the same cold stern lines, the same snow or sunshine; and nothing either in the temperature or the aspect of the ground indicates that you have accomplished any change of place. it is only in the vicinity of the great rivers that the country assumes a different aspect, and the wearied eye at last enjoys the pleasure of encountering more limited horizons, a more verdant vegetation, and a landscape more varied in its outlines. among these rivers, the dniepr claims one of the foremost places, from the length of its course, the volume of its waters, and the deep bed it has excavated for itself athwart the plains of southern russia. but nowhere does it present more charming views than from the height i have just mentioned and its vicinity. after having spread out to the breadth of nearly a league, it parts into a multitude of channels, that wind through forests of oaks, alders, poplars, and aspens, whose vigorous growth bespeaks the richness of a virgin soil. the groups of islands capriciously breaking the surface of the waters, have a melancholy beauty and a primitive character scarcely to be seen except in those vast wildernesses where man has left no traces of his presence. nothing in our country at all resembles this kind of landscape. with us, the creature has everywhere refashioned the work of the creator; the mark of his hand appears even on the most inaccessible mountains; whereas, in russia, where the nobles are the sole proprietors, nature still remains, in many places, just as god created it. thus these plavniks[ ] of the dniepr, seldom touched by the woodman's axe, have all the wild majesty of the forests of the new world. for some time after my arrival at doutchina, i found an endless source of delight in contemplating those majestic scenes, lighted by a pale sky, and veiled in light mists, that gave them a tinge of sadness, sometimes more pleasing than the glare of noon. doutchina, situated, as i have said, on a ledge of a ravine that ends in the plavniks, is altogether unlike the other villages of russia. its pretty cottages, separated by gardens and groups of fruit-trees, its picturesque site and magnificent environs, strikingly remind one of the danube, near vienna. the whole country, as far as one can see from the highest point of the road, belongs to the baroness of bervick, and forms one of the most valuable estates in the neighbourhood. but her residence is strangely unsuited to her fortune, being a mere cabin, open to every wind, and fit, at most, for a sporting lodge. as we looked on this shabby abode, we were amazed that a wealthy lady, still young and handsome, should be content to inhabit it, and to endure a multitude of privations, which we should have thought intolerable to a person of her station. at the time we became this lady's guest, she had left france about eighteen months, to reside on this property, bequeathed to her by her late husband. some days after my husband's departure we set out for kherson, where the elections of the marshals and judges of the nobility were soon to take place. all the great families of the government of kherson were already assembled in the town, and gave it an appearance of animation to which it had long been a stranger. these elections, which take place only every three years, are occasions for balls and parties, to which the pometchiks and their wives look forward with eager anticipation. for more than a fortnight the town is thronged with officers of all ranks, and elegant equipages with four horses, that give the streets and promenades an unusually gay appearance. the russians spare no expense on these occasions of display. many a petty proprietor's wife, who lives all the year on _kash_[ ] and dried fish, contrives at this period to out-do the ladies of the town in costly finery. the amusements began with a horse-race, which made some noise in the world in consequence of an article in the _journal des débats_. those who have any curiosity to know how one may mystify a newspaper, and amuse oneself at the expense of a credulous public, have but to read a certain number of the year , which positively alleges, that forty ladies, headed by the young and beautiful narishkin, appeared on the course as jockeys, rode their own horses, &c., and a thousand other things still more absurd and incredible. all i can say of this race, at which i was present, is, that it was like every other affair of the kind, and was not distinguished by any remarkable incident or romantic adventure. eight horses started, one of which belonged to the countess voronzof and another to general narishkin, and the riders were not lovely ladies, but rather clumsy grooms. the first prize, a large silver cup worth rubles, was won by the countess voronzof's atalanta: the second was carried off by the general's horse. such is the way in which these things always end, and the consequence may very likely be, that the races will cease altogether. the landowners know very well that their horses stand no chance against those belonging to great people, and as they are sure of being beaten they will at last grow tired of the mock contest. the countess voronzof ought to consider that these races are not merely an amusement, but that they were instituted for the purpose of encouraging the improvement of the breed of horses. after the race there was a grand dinner at the general commandant's, which was attended by all the rank and fashion then assembled in kherson. it was at this dinner i first remarked the custom observed by the russians of placing the gentlemen on one side of the table and the ladies on the other, a custom both unsightly and injurious to conversation. it has almost fallen into disuse in odessa, like all the other national practices; but in the provincial towns it would still be thought a deadly insult to a lady to help her after a gentleman, and no doubt it is in order to avoid such a breach of politeness that the ladies are all ranged together in one row. the nobility of the district gave a grand ball that evening in one of the club-rooms, and there i noticed all the contrasts that form the ground-work of russian manners. the mixture of refinement and barbarism, of gallantry and grossness, which this people exhibits on all occasions, shows how young it still is in civilisation. here were officers in splendid uniforms and ladies blazing with diamonds, dancing and playing cards in a very ugly room with old patched and plastered walls, dimly lighted by a few shabby lamps, and they were as intent on their pleasures as if they were in a court drawing-room, and never seemed to think that there was any thing at all offensive to the sight in the accommodations around them. the refreshments, consisting of dried fruits and _eau sucrée_, were in as much demand as the best ices and sherbets could have been. the same inconsistency was displayed in the behaviour of the gentlemen towards the ladies. though ready, like the poles, to drink every man of them to his fancy's queen out of the heel of her shoe, they did not think it unbecoming to take their places alone in the quadrilles, neither troubling themselves to go in search of their partners nor escorting them back to their seats after the dance. setting aside, however, this total want of tact, they perfectly imitate all the outward shows and forms of politeness. a final ball, given by the governor at the conclusion of the election, was much more brilliant than those of the noblesse, and satisfied my critical eye in every respect. every thing testified the taste and opulence of our entertainer. a splendid supper was served up at midnight, and a chorus of young lads sang some national airs, full of that grave and melancholy sweetness that constitutes the charm of russian music. when the champagne was sent round the governor rose and made a speech in russian, which was responded to by a general hurrah: the healths of the emperor, the empress, and the rest of the imperial family, were then drunk with shouts of joy; the married ladies were next toasted, then the unmarried, who were cheered with frantic acclamations. these duties being accomplished, the company returned to the ball-room, where dancing was kept up until morning. this entertainment was perfect in its kind; but, in accordance with the national habits, it was destined to end in an orgy. we learned the next day that the dawn had found the gentlemen eating, drinking, and fighting lustily. it was reckoned that bottles of champagne were emptied on this occasion, and as the price of each bottle is eighteen francs, the reader may hence form some idea of russian profusion. two days afterwards we left kherson for the country seat of the marshal of the nobles, where a large party was already assembled. the manner in which hospitality is exercised in russia is very convenient, and entails no great outlay in the matter of upholstery. those who receive visiters give themselves very little concern as to whether their guests are well or ill lodged, provided they can offer them a good table; it never occurs to them that a good bed, and a room provided with some articles of furniture, are to some persons quite as acceptable as a good dinner. whatever has no reference to the comfort of the stomach, lies beyond the range of russian politeness, and the stranger must make up his account accordingly. as we were the last comers, we fared very queerly in point of lodging, being thrust four or five of us into one room, with no other furniture than two miserable bedsteads; and there we were left to shift for ourselves as we could. the house is very handsome in appearance; but for all its portico, its terrace, and its grand halls, it only contains two or three rooms for reception, and a few garrets, graced with the name of bed-rooms. ostentation is inherent in the russian character, but it abounds especially among the petty nobles, who lavish away their whole income in outward show. they must have equipages with four horses, billiard-rooms, grand drawing-rooms, pianos, &c. and if they can procure all these superfluities, they are quite content to live on mujik's fare, and to sleep in beds without any thing in the shape of sheets. articles of furniture, the most indispensable, are totally unknown in the dwellings of most of the second-rate nobles. notwithstanding the vaunted progress of russian civilisation, it is almost impossible to find a basin and ewer in a bed-room. bedsteads are almost as great rarities, and almost invariably you have nothing but a divan on which you may pass the night. you may deem yourself singularly fortunate if the mistress of the mansion thinks of sending you a blanket and a pillow; but this is so unusual a piece of good luck that you must never reckon upon it. in their own persons the russians set an example of truly spartan habits, as i had many opportunities of perceiving during my stay in the marshal's house. no one, the marshal himself not excepted, had a private chamber; his eldest daughter, though a very elegant and charming young lady, lay on the floor, wrapped up in a cloak like an old veteran. his wife, with three or four young children, passed the night in a closet that served as boudoir by day, and he himself made his bed on one of the divans of the grand saloon. as for the visiters, some slept on the billiard-table; others, like ourselves, scrambled for a few paltry stump bedsteads, whilst the most philosophical wore away the night in drinking and gambling. i say nothing as to the manner in which the domestic servants are lodged; a good guess as to this matter may be easily made from what i have just said of their masters. besides, it is a settled point in russia never to take any heed for servants; they eat, drink, and sleep, how and where they can, and their masters never think of asking a word about the matter. the family whose guests we were was very large, and furnished us with themes for many a remark on the national usages, and the notions respecting education that are in vogue in the empire. a swiss governess is an indispensable piece of furniture in every house in which there are many children. she must teach them to read, write, and speak french, and play a few mazurkas on the piano. no more is required of her; for solid instruction is a thing almost unknown among the petty nobles. a girl of fifteen has completed her education if she can do the honours of the drawing-room, and warble a few french romances. yet i have met with several exceptions to this rule, foremost among which i must note our host's pretty daughter loubinka, who, thanks to a sound understanding and quick apprehension, has acquired such a stock of information as very few russian ladies possess. it is only among those families that constantly reside on their estates that we still find in full vigour all those prejudices, superstitions, and usages of old russia, that are handed down as heir-looms from generation to generation, and keep strong hold on all the rustic nobility. no people are more superstitious than the russians; the sight of two crossed forks, or of a salt-cellar upset, will make them turn pale and tremble with terror. there are unlucky days on which nothing could induce them to set out on a journey or begin any business. monday especially is marked with a red cross in their calendar, and woe to the man who would dare to brave its malign influence. among the russian customs most sedulously preserved is that of mutual salutations after meals. nothing can be more amusing than to see all the persons round the table bowing right and left with a gravity that proves the importance they attach to a formality so singular in our eyes. the children set the example by respectfully kissing the hands of their parents. in all social meetings etiquette peremptorily requires that the young ladies, instead of sitting in the drawing-room, shall remain by themselves in an adjoining apartment, and not allow any young man to approach them. if there is dancing the gravest matron in the company goes and brings them almost by force into the ball-room. once there they may indulge their youthful vivacity without restraint; but on no pretext are they to withdraw from beneath the eyes of their mothers or chaperons. it would be ruinous to a young lady's reputation to be caught in a _tête-á-tête_ with a young man within two steps of the ball-room. but all this prudery extends no further than outward forms, and it would be a grand mistake to suppose that there is more morality in russia than elsewhere. genuine virtue, such as is based on sound principles and an enlightened education is not very common there. young girls are jealously guarded, because the practice is in accordance with the general habits and feelings of the country, and little reliance is placed in their own sense of propriety. but once married, they acquire the right of conducting themselves as they please, and the husband would find it a hard matter to control their actions. though divorces are almost impossible to obtain, it does not follow that all wives remain with their husbands; on the contrary, nothing is more common than amicable arrangements between married people to wink at each other's peccadilloes; such conventions excite no scandal, and do not exclude the wife from society. one of these divorces i will mention, which is perhaps without a parallel in the annals of the civilised world. a very pretty and sprightly young polish lady was married to a man of great wealth, but much older than herself, and a thorough muscovite in coarseness of character and habits. after two or three years spent in wrangling and plaguing each other, the ill-assorted pair resolved to travel, in the hopes of escaping the intolerable sort of life they led at home. a residence in italy, the chosen land of intrigues and illicit amours, soon settled the case. the young wife eloped with an italian nobleman, whose passion ere long grew so intense that nothing would satisfy him short of a legal sanction of their union. divorces, as every one knows, are easily obtained in the pope's dominions. madame de k. had therefore no difficulty in causing her marriage to be annulled, especially with the help of her lord and master, who, for the first time since they had come together, agreed with her, heart and soul. every thing was promptly arranged, and _monsieur_ carried his complaisance so far as to be present as an official witness at _madame's_ wedding, doubtless for the purpose of thoroughly making sure of its validity. three or four children were the fruit of this new union; but the lady's happiness was of short duration. her domestic peace was destroyed by the intrigues of her second husband's family; perhaps, too, the italian's love had cooled; be this as it may, after some months of miserable struggles and humiliations, sentence of separation was finally pronounced against her, and she found herself suddenly without fortune or protector, burdened with a young family, and weighed down with fearful anticipations of the future. her first step was to leave a country where such cruel calamities had befallen her, and to return to podolia, the land of her birth. hitherto her story is like hundreds of others, and i should not have thought of narrating it had it ended there; but what almost surpasses belief, and gives it a stamp of originality altogether out of the common line, is the conduct of her first husband when he heard of her return. that brutal, inconstant man, who had trampled on all social decencies in attending at the marriage of his wife with another, did all in his power to induce her to return to his house. by dint of unwearied efforts and entreaties he succeeded in overcoming her scruples, and bore her home in triumph along with her children by the italian, on whom he settled part of his fortune. from that time forth the most perfect harmony subsists between the pair, and seems likely long to continue. i saw a letter written by the lady two or three months after her return beneath the conjugal roof; it breathed the liveliest gratitude and the fondest affection for him whom she called _her beloved husband_. the russians pique themselves greatly on having a large retinue of servants; the smallest proprietor never keeps fewer than five or six; yet this does not prevent their houses from being, without exception, disgustingly dirty. except the state-rooms, which the servants make a show of cleaning, all the rest of the house is left in a state of filth beyond description. the condition of these domestic servants is much less pitiable than one would suppose; they are so numerous that they have hardly any thing to do, and spend half the day in sleeping. the canings they receive from time to time do not at all ruffle their good humour. it is true they fare horribly as to victuals, and have no other bed than the bare ground; but their robust constitutions enable them easily to endure the greatest privations, and if they have salted cucumbers, arbutus berries, and _kash_, they scarcely envy their masters their more nutritious viands. after some ten days spent very agreeably in the house of the marshal of the nobles, we at last set out on our return for doutchina, where my husband was soon to meet us again. on arriving at the third post-station, we were surprised to find the house filled with cossacks and police-officers. neither postmaster, horses, nor coachmen, were to be seen, and it was plain some extraordinary event had taken place. we were presently informed that a murder had been committed two days before, at a very short distance from the station, on the person of a courier, who had a sum of , rubles in his charge. the following are the details communicated to us on the subject. a courier arrived at the post-station in the evening, having with him a small valise containing a considerable amount of property. he drank a few glasses of brandy with the postmaster before he resumed his journey, and told him he was not going further than kherson, and would return that way next day. that same night some peasants found a deserted carriage on the highway, near kherson, and were soon satisfied on examining it, that a crime had been committed in it. several pieces of silver coin were scattered in the straw, as if some one had forgotten them there in his haste, and copious marks of blood were discernible on the ground and in the carriage. these facts were communicated to the police, inquiries were instituted, and the courier's body, with a deep gash in the head, was found in a ditch two or three versts from the station. the driver had disappeared, and the postmaster, an unfortunate jew, who was perhaps innocent of all participation in the crime, was immediately taken to prison. such was the state of the case when we arrived at the station and found it all in confusion, and filled with cossacks. this tragic event threw the whole country into agitation, but it was not until six weeks afterwards that the police at last succeeded in arresting the perpetrator of the deed, in consequence of quite new information, which gave a still stranger complexion to the whole story. by the murderer's own statement, it appeared that he belonged to a family of shopkeepers, and that he had given up his business only to execute a long cherished project. some months before the murder he had gone into the crimea, where he had taken pains to conceal his identity and baffle any attempt to track his steps, by letting his beard grow, adopting the habits and appearance of a mujik, and frequently changing his place of abode. when he thought his measures complete in this respect, he went and hired himself as postillion to the jew, who kept the post-station before mentioned. he had been waiting more than a month for a favourable opportunity, when the unfortunate courier, who was his victim, arrived. he confessed he had hesitated for some moments before committing the murder, not from horror of the deed itself, but because he recognised in the courier an old companion of his boyhood. twice, perceiving that the man was asleep, he had left his seat and got up behind the carriage with the intention of knocking him on the head; but twice his courage failed him; the third time, however, he drew the courier's own sabre and cleft his skull with it at a blow. having secured the valise, he threw the corpse into a ditch, and continued his journey to within a short distance of kherson, where he left the kibitka, changed his dress, cut off his beard, and then entered the city on foot. his family received him without the least suspicion, never doubting but that he came straight from the crimea, and for more than six weeks he lived quite at his ease, making like every body else numberless conjectures respecting the event which was the constant theme of conversation. meanwhile, several persons having been struck by the resemblance of his features to those of the postillion who had disappeared, they put the police on the alert, and he was arrested just as he was setting out for bessarabia. he was condemned to a hundred strokes of the knout, and the postmaster was sent to siberia. the children of the latter were enrolled as soldiers, and all he was worth became the booty of the police. with such penal laws, russia has little to fear from malefactors. notwithstanding its vast extent and its thinly scattered population, the traveller is safer there than in any other country. but this state of things is to be ascribed rather to the political situation of the people, than to the strict administration of the police, and it is easy to conceive that in a country, in which there are none but slaves bound to the soil, highway robberies, generally speaking, are morally impossible, because they can scarcely ever yield any gain to their authors. there existed, nevertheless, in bessarabia, from to , a very formidable gang of robbers, of which the police found it extremely difficult to rid the country. the captain, of whom a thousand extraordinary tales are told, was a revolted slave, unconsciously playing the part of fra diavolo, in a corner of russia. he waged war not against individuals, but against society. it is alleged, that he never killed any one, and that many a peasant found with him an asylum and protection. he was a daring fellow, beloved by his gang, and a merciless plunderer of landlords, and above all of jews. it was not until the close of that he was taken, through the treachery of a girl he was attached to, who betrayed him to the officers of justice. he died under the knout; the death of their leader dispersed his gang, and they fell one by one into the hands of the police. some days after my husband's return, we took our leave of the baroness to return to clarofka. our main journey through the kalmuck steppes and to the caucasus, being fixed for the following spring, part of the winter was spent in making preparations for our departure. count voronzof most obligingly furnished us with letters for the governors and authorities of the countries we were to pass through. footnotes: [ ] the name applied collectively to the islands and channels formed by all the great rivers of southern russia. [ ] a favourite russian dish, a sort of porridge of buckwheat or indian corn. appendix to chapter ix. _petty larceny._--"highway robbery and burglary, with violence, are things wholly unknown in the greater part of russia. the peasants laugh when they see foreigners travelling about with swords, pistols, and a whole arsenal of weapons. the russian trader journeys from one end of the empire to the other, often with all he is worth in the world, and does not think it necessary even to carry a knife in his pocket; yet one never hears of their being robbed by force on the highways, at least in the parts of the country with which i was more intimately acquainted. cases of the kind do indeed occur in the southern provinces, adjoining the turkish dominions, and in siberia, where so many malefactors are settled, and where there is often extreme distress. some may be disposed to ascribe this unfrequency of highway robbery to the great remoteness of the villages from each other, and to the severity of the climate, which must deter rogues from remaining much in the open air, especially at night. but even in summer, and in the more populous regions, where the villages are tolerably close together, highway robbery is equally rare, and the absence of this crime seems to me attributable rather to the character of the people themselves, to whom the practice seems repugnant and unnatural. it were to be wished that they had the same instinctive aversion to robbery without violence, but this unfortunately is not the case. as i was a frequent sufferer from the nimbleness of their fingers, i had occasion enough to ponder on the causes of this striking propensity of theirs, and i came to the conclusion, paradoxical as it may perhaps seem, that it arises not so much from want of moral feeling as from want of intellectual cultivation. most of the common folk who are given to this vice (for among educated persons it is as rare and is reputed as infamous as in any other country) see no harm at all in pilfering, and are, therefore, prone to practise it whenever they have an opportunity. i am fully persuaded that these people, who are often the most good-natured and even honest-hearted fellows, would desist from the practice if they were once taught to regard it in a different light, and were made conscious of its impropriety. this is a case as to which primary instruction, village schools, and church sermons, in the vernacular tongue, would deal most happily and beneficially for the morals of the nation. but village schools are rare, and sermons or religious instruction of any kind, are rarer still; books there are none, and if there were any the populace could not read them. what means then have they of becoming enlightened as to themselves and the things around them, and of correcting the views and notions handed down to them from generation to generation? centuries ago they worked out for themselves their own system of ethics, if i may so speak, and they now make the best they can of it. certain things, for instance, such as household furniture and the like, are regarded as sacred; the owners may leave them all night in the street, and be sure of finding them again in the morning, whereas there are a thousand other things which they cannot watch too carefully, though far less serviceable, and consequently less tempting. on the former there is a sort of interdict laid by tacit consent, whereas the latter are looked upon as common property. the same man who will not hesitate to pick another's pocket, or to filch something from his table, will never, even though quite safe from detection, open a closed door, or put his hand in at an open window to take any thing out of a room. he would call this 'stealing' (_vorit_,) and that has an ugly sound even in russian ears, and is considered a great sin. but the first-mentioned little matters he looks on as allowed, or at least not forbidden, and he applies to them the endearing diminutive _vorovat_, a pretty, harmless word, not at all associated with the odious idea of thieving properly so called. to put this matter in a clearer light i will relate two little incidents that came under my own personal observation. "i was once in the house of a common chapman on an affair of business, in which he behaved like an upright worthy man. we had finished the transaction between us, and were sipping our tea, when an old man with an open, honest-looking countenance, but very poorly clad, came in and offered the chapman a silver spoon for sale. after some chaffering the latter bought the spoon at a price much below its worth, and said, banteringly, as he paid over the money: '_sukin tu sin, tu vorovat_.' 'you pilfered it, you son of a b----.' (this last phrase, as i have elsewhere remarked, is practically equivalent to 'my good friend,' or the like.) the old man looked at him with a roguish twinkle of the eye, laid his hand on his breast, and said very gravely: '_niet sudar, bog podal_,' 'no, sir, god bestowed it,' and then went quietly about his business. i often took pains to come at the special meaning of this '_bog podal_,' by a series of indirect questions, and every time i became more and more assured that by many persons the phrase was understood as signifying a sort of divine permission to steal. "the second anecdote is perhaps still more characteristic. in the year i was on my way with a german friend to the country-seat of count s. we thought we were the only persons in our little open carriage who understood the german language, in which we conversed, when, to our surprise, our long-bearded _ishvorshtik_ (coachman) joined in the discourse with great fluency, though his german was somewhat broken. observing our astonishment, he told us that he had been in germany, and had served in a detached corps of the army, which had been organised in the form of a _landwehr_, or local militia: he had passed a summer in saxony, and seen leipsig, dresden, wittenberg, &c. all this he told us with an air of no small self-complacency. 'and how did you like germany?' said i. 'why, pretty well,' he answered, 'only for one thing that i could not abide at all.' he might have settled there advantageously, and his colonel would have given him his discharge, as the corps was to be disbanded; but this _one thing_ he talked of was not to be got over, and so he had preferred to return home. 'and what was this thing that stuck so in your stomach?' 'sir,' said he, turning to us with one eye half shut, and speaking almost in a whisper, '_sudar, vorovat ne velat_,' 'sir, they won't allow a body to do a wee bit of pilfering.' we were not a little confounded by this unexpected reply, and my friend, who had not been long in russia, was beginning to lecture him on the enormity of such principles, when the coachman, who had no mind to hear a long sermon, laughingly cut short the preacher's harangue, and gave him to understand that he was wandering wide of the mark. 'o, you don't understand me, _sudar_, i don't mean stealing; of course not; i know very well it is a bad thing; i only mean _vorovat_, which surely ought to be allowed everywhere; leastways it ought to be allowed to a poor soldier.' "the world is ruled by opinion: we should therefore try to set this governing power right, where we can, and where that may not be one, we should at least make the best use we can of it in the state in which we find it. russia affords one striking exemplification of this wise system of compromise with reference to the subject we have been discussing. it is a received opinion among the populace, as i have said, that a man may filch a little from a stranger without being guilty of downright dishonesty, but to rob one's own master, is a grievous and unpardonable sin. hence, the surest way of protecting yourself against a house-thief, when you once know him, is to take him into your service. from that moment you are not only safe from any larceny on his part, but you have secured besides the best watch against all other thieves, since it is a point of honour with him to prevent all acts of peculation that might entail suspicion on himself; and he knows practically all the tricks and stratagems against which he must be on his guard. an officer of high rank in the russian army, a german by birth, told me, that once when his battalion had to encamp for several weeks together along with a cossack pult, he and his men had like to be stripped of all they had by a continual course of thieving. every morning brought a disastrous list of clothes missing, horse trappings carried off, &c. &c. more sentinels were placed, strict vigilance was observed, but every precaution failed. almost at his wit's end, the officer complained to the hetman of the pult, and was advised by him to withdraw all his own sentries, and to make one of the cossacks mount guard in his own quarters, and in every division of those occupied by his men. the german could not help thinking the proposed measure very like committing the fold to the custody of the wolf, but as he knew nothing better he could do, he adopted it, and from that moment all the thieving was at an end. the cossacks always laid themselves down at nightfall right before the doors of the quarters and stables, and the officer never again heard even of any attempt to annoy him or his men. such is the force of opinion, and of the manner in which these people (and all of us, too, if we will but own it) are in the habit of seeing things."--_von littrow._ von littrow remarks that we ought not to be too hasty in laying to the account of moral depravity the nimbleness of finger of the russian peasant, but consider whether even among the most civilised people there are not some relics of the olden barbarism, some striking deviations from moral propriety, which opinion is pleased to look on with indulgence. books change owners in the german universities by a surreptitious process, for which a slang word has been adopted. this kind of _vorovat_ is called "shooting" (_schiessen_) and some very learned professors we are told, plume themselves on the skill with which they contrive to "shoot" rare specimens of natural history, &c. there are men otherwise of great probity and worth, who we fear are not always scrupulously careful to return a borrowed umbrella. _russian servants._--"where a german would think himself very well off with the attendance of one woman servant, a russian tradesman, in like pecuniary circumstances, keeps at least four; but the german's one servant does quite as much as the russian's four put together. in the houses of the wealthy, the number of menservants amounts to fifty, sixty, and even a hundred or more. there is an intendant and a _maître-d'hôtel_, a couple of dozen of pages and footmen, the master of the house's own men, the lady's own men, and again own men for the young gentlemen and for the young ladies; then come the butlers, caterers, hunters, doorkeepers, porters, couriers, coachmen, and stable-boys, grooms and outriders, cooks and under-cooks, confectioners, stove-lighters, and chamber-cleaners, &c. &c., not to mention the female servants of all sorts. but the worst of the thing is the continual increase of this numerous body; for it is a matter of course in russia that every married man who enters service takes his wife with him; his children, too, belong to the house and remain in it; nay, his kith and kin, if not actually domesticated in the establishment, take up their abode in it for days and weeks together, without demur; besides which, the friends and acquaintances of the servants may drop in when they please, and partake of bed and board. 'when i married,' said a wealthy russian to me, 'i made up my mind to have no more of these good-for-nothing people in my house than were unavoidably necessary for myself and my wife, and i therefore restricted myself to forty, but after the lapse of three or four years, i remarked, to my great astonishment, that this number was already almost doubled.' in any other country, some three or four of these fellows would be thought enough to wait at table even in the best appointed houses; but in russia, where dinner parties often consist of forty or fifty persons, there must be a servant behind every chair, or the whole set out would be considered extremely shabby. it was formerly the custom generally, and it is so still in the country-houses of the great, to have a footman constantly stationed in each of the rooms of the numerous suite of apartments, and one or two lads outside, their business being to do the office now performed by bells. an order given by the lord of the mansion in the innermost apartment, was transmitted from room to room, and from door to door, until it reached the last of the train, who fetched the article called for, and so it was passed from hand to hand until it reached the _gosudar_ (the lord). "a polish countess told me, that she once called on count orloff on business, and while they were conversing, the count desired the servant who stood by the door, to call for a glass of water. the man disappeared for a moment to speak to his next neighbour, and immediately returned to his post; half-an-hour elapsed, and no water came. the thirsty count had to repeat the order, and turning to the countess, he said, 'see what a poor man i am; i have more than a hundred and twenty servants in this house alone, and if i want a glass of water, i cannot have it.' the countess smiled at the poor man, and told him that if he was a good deal poorer, and had but one servant, he would be better attended on. the countess orloff, his daughter, who inherited his whole fortune, is said to have upwards of servants of both sexes in her palace at moscow, and to maintain a special hospital for them."--_von littrow._ chapter x. departure for the caspian--iekaterinoslav--potemkin's ruined palace--paskevitch's caucasian guard--sham fight--intolerable heat--cataracts of the dniepr--german colonies--the setcha of the zaporogues--a french steward--night adventure--colonies of the moloshnia vodi--mr. cornies--the doukoboren, a religious sect. about the middle of may, , we left the shores of the black sea, accompanied by a cossack and an excellent dragoman, who spoke all the dialects current in southern russia. after we had travelled more than leagues upwards along the banks of the dniepr, we reached iekaterinoslav, a new town, which about fifty years ago consisted only of some wretched fishermen's cabins, scattered along the margin of the river. iekaterinoslav, founded in by the great catherine, who laid the first stone in the presence of the emperor joseph ii., is built on such a gigantic plan as makes it a perfect wilderness, in which the sparse houses and scanty population seem lost, as it were. its wide and regular streets, marked out only by a few dwellings at long intervals, seem to have been planned for a million of souls; a whole government would have to be unpeopled to fill them, and give them that life and movement so necessary to a capital. but there seems no likelihood that time will fill up the void spaces of this desert, for the number of its inhabitants has not much increased within forty years; it is a stationary town, which will probably never realise the expectations formed by the empress when she gave it her name. it contains, however, some large buildings, numerous churches, bazaars, and charming gardens. but for the absurd mania of the russians for planning their towns on an enormous scale, it would be a delightful abode, rich in its beautiful dniepr and the fertile hills around it. but iekaterinoslav possesses one thing that distinguishes it from all the towns with which russian civilisation is beginning to cover the south of the empire; and that is potemkin's palace and garden. the palace is in ruins though it was built for catherine ii., barely sixty years ago. the indifference of the russians for their historical monuments is so great, that they hasten to destroy them, merely to clear the ground of things that have ceased to be of use. the government, despotic as it is, unfortunately has not the power to stay the instinctive vandalism of its people. we will give melancholy proofs of this by and by, when we come to speak of the ancient tombs of the crimea, so rich in objects of art, and so precious for their antiquity, yet which, in spite of the pretended care of the police, are day by day disappearing before the barbarous cupidity of the peasants, and still more of the _employés_. to judge from its remains, potemkin's palace appears to have been one of truly royal magnificence; on each side are still standing wings which must have contained a great number of apartments. there is a profusion of colonnades, porticoes, capitals, and beautiful cornices in the italian style of the period; but all is at the mercy of the first peasant who wants stones or wood to repair his cabin. the ground is all strewed over with shapeless fragments, blocks of stone, and broken shafts. nothing can look more sad than such skeletons of monuments which no accumulated ages have hallowed, and which have not even a veil of ivy to hide their decrepitude, nor any thing to throw a cast of dignity over their blank disorder. the feeling they impart is like that produced by the effects of an earthquake: no lesson given by the past, nothing for the imagination to feed on: no chronicles, no poetry. the haughty catherine little suspected that one day the serfs would carry away piecemeal that magnificent edifice planned by the inventive genius of her favourite, at the most brilliant period of her life. it was there she rested from the fatigues of her fantastic journey, and prepared herself for the new wonders that awaited her in the crimea. the amorous sovereign of the largest empire in the world, left the ices of st. petersburg, and performed a journey of versts, to visit the richest jewel added to her imperial crown, that enchanting tauris which potemkin laid at her feet. at intervals all along the route from iekaterinoslav to kherson, stand little pyramids surrounded by a balustrade, to mark the spots where the empress halted, changed horses, &c. in many places are still to be seen palaces that suddenly sprang up on her way, as if at the touch of an enchanter's wand. the whole tract of country is stamped with reminiscences of her grandeur, though she but passed rapidly through these deserts, which were metamorphosed beneath her glance into smiling and populous plains. of all these ephemeral palaces, that of iekaterinoslav was the most worthy to harbour the imperial beauty. it stands on a gentle slope descending to the dniepr, and is still surrounded with a magnificent park, presenting an admirable variety of sites and views: forests, labyrinths, and granite rocks, clothed with rich vegetation, with paths so capricious, thickets so dense, and resting-places so mysterious, that every step reveals some token of the genius of a courtier, and the power of an empress. opposite the palace a little granite island lifts itself above the waters of the dniepr like a nereid. its sole inhabitants are some white albatrosses and an old forest-keeper, whose cabin is hidden among trees. he leads a true hermit life. his gun and his fishing-tackle supply his food; the bushes and briars yield him firing, and thus he finds every thing requisite for his wants within the limits of his retreat. he has a nutshell of a boat, in which he can visit every nook of the island shore, which he shares with the fowls of the air. except a few fishermen, no one ventures to thread that labyrinth of rocks and whirlpools that render the dniepr so dangerous hereabouts. besides potemkin's park, the town has another of great beauty, which serves as a public promenade. it is crowded twice a week, when a military band performs. its extent, its broad sheets of water, its shady alleys and fine expanse of lawn, make it one of the handsomest gardens i have seen in russia. we spent a week in iekaterinoslav under the roof of an excellent french family long settled in the country. the cloth factory of messrs. neumann is the only industrial establishment in the town. their machines, imported from france and england, and their thorough knowledge of their business, enable them to give the utmost perfection to their goods, notwithstanding which m. neumann assured us that he should certainly be obliged to shut up his establishment before the lapse of two years. we have already set forth the causes that obstruct the progress of manufactures in russia, and completely paralyse the industrial efforts of the ablest men. during our stay in iekaterinoslav, we had all the pleasure of an excursion into the mountains of asia, without the trouble of changing our place. it is only in russia one can encounter such lucky chances. three hundred mountaineers of the caucasus arrived in the town, and by the governor's desire entertained the inhabitants with a display of their warlike games and exercises. they were on their way to warsaw, to serve as a guard of honour for paskevitch, the hero of the day. this whim of a man spoiled by fortune and the emperor, is tolerably characteristic of the russians: merely to satisfy it, some hundreds of mountaineers had to quit their families, and traverse vast distances to go and parade on the great square of a capital. the sight of those half-barbarians arriving like a torrent, and taking possession of the town as of a conquered place, was well calculated to excite our curiosity. we forgot time and place as we gazed on this unwonted spectacle, and seemed carried back among the gigantic invasions of tamerlane, and his exterminating hordes of asia, with their wild cries and picturesque costumes, swooping down with long lances and fiery steeds on old europe, just as they appeared some centuries before, when they subjected all the wide domains of russia to their sway. these mountaineers are small, agile, and muscular. there is no saying how they walk, for their life is passed on horseback. there is in the expression of their countenances, an inconceivable mixture of boldness, frankness, and fierce rapacity. their bronzed complexion, dazzlingly white teeth, black eyes, every glance of which is a flash of lightning, and regular features, compose a physiognomy that terrifies more than great ugliness. their manoeuvres surpass every thing an european can imagine. how cold, prim, and faded seem our civilised ways compared with those impassioned countenances, those picturesque costumes, those furious gallops, that grace and impetuosity of movement, that belong only to them. they discharge their carbines on horseback at full speed, and display inimitable address in the exercise of the djereed. every rider decks his steed with a care he does not always bestow on his own adornment, covering it with carpets, strips of purple stuffs, cashmere shawls, and all the costly things with which the plunder of the caravans can supply him. the manoeuvres lasted more than two hours, and afforded us an exact image of asiatic warfare. they concluded with a general _mêlée_, which really terrified not a few spectators, so much did the smoke, the shouts, the ardour of the combatants, the discharges of musketry, and the neighings of the horses complete the vivid illusion of the scene. it was at last impossible to distinguish any thing through the clouds of dust and smoke that whirled round the impetuous riders. paskevitch will perhaps be more embarrassed with them than he expects. from the moment these lions of the desert arrived, the town was in a state of revolution. the shopkeepers complained of their numerous thefts, and husbands and fathers were shocked at their cavalier manners towards the fair sex. though it was but the beginning of june, the heat had attained an intensity that made it literally a public calamity. the hospitals were crowded with patients, most of them labouring under cerebral fevers, a class of affections exceedingly dangerous in this country. the dust lay so thick in the street, that the foot sank in it as in snow, and for more than a fortnight the thermometer had remained invariably at ° r. you have but to visit russia to know what is the heat of the tropics. we nevertheless carried away not a few agreeable recollections of iekaterinoslav, thanks to its charming position, and some distinguished _salons_ of which it has reason to be proud. on leaving iekaterinoslav we proceeded to the famous cataracts of the dniepr, on which attempts have been ineffectually made for more than a hundred years to render them navigable, and in the vicinity of which there are several german colonies. my husband having in the preceding year discovered a rich iron mine in this locality, we had to stop some time to make fresh investigations. i have already spoken so much of the dniepr, that i am almost afraid to return to the subject. in this part of its course, however, there is nothing like the maritime views of kherson, the plavnicks of the doutchina, or the cheerful bold aspect of the vicinity of iekaterinoslav. near the cataracts, the river has all the depth and calmness of a beautiful lake; not a ripple breaks its dark azure surface. its bed is flanked by huge blocks of granite, that seem as though they had been piled up at random by the hands of giants. every thing is grand and majestic in these scenes of primeval nature; nothing in them reminds us of the flight and the ravages of time. there are no trees shedding their leaves on the river's margin, no turf that withers, no soil worn away by the flood: the scene is an image of eternal changelessness. the dniepr has deeps here which no plummet has ever fathomed, and the inhabitants allege that it harbours real marine monsters in its abysses. all the fishermen have seen the silurus, a sort of fresh water shark, capable of swallowing a man or a horse at a mouthful, and they relate anecdotes on this head, that transport you to the nile or the ganges, the peculiar homes of the voracious crocodile and alligator. one of these stories is of very recent date, and there are many boatmen who pretend to speak of the fact from personal knowledge. they positively aver, that a young girl, who was washing linen on the margin of the water, was carried down to the bottom of the dniepr, and that her body never again rose to the surface. a german village is visible on the other side of the river, at some distance from the house of mr. masure, the proprietor of the mine. its pretty red factories with their green window-shutters, the surrounding forest, and a neighbouring island with cliffs glistening in the sun, fill the mind with thoughts of tranquil happiness. on the distant horizon the eye discerns the rent and pointed rocks, and the fleecy spray of the cataracts. here and there some rocks just rising above the water, one of which, surnamed the brigand, is the terror of boatmen, are the haunts of countless water-fowl, whose riotous screams long pursue the traveller as he ferries across from bank to bank. all this scene is cheerful and pastoral, like one of greuze's landscapes; but the bare hills that follow the undulations of the left bank show only dreariness and aridity. the germans settled below the cataracts of the dniepr are the oldest colonists of southern russia: their colony was founded by catherine ii., in , after the expulsion of the zaporogue cossacks, who were removed to the banks of the kouban. it is composed solely of prussian mennonites, and comprises sixteen villages, numbering inhabitants, very industrious people, generally in the enjoyment of an ample competence. corn and cattle form the staple of their wealth, but they are also manufacturers, and have two establishments for making cotton goods, and one for cloth. these mennonites, however, have remained stationary since their arrival in russia: full of prejudices, and intensely self-willed, they have set their faces against all innovation and all intellectual development. one of their villages stands on the island of cortetz, in the dniepr, once the seat of the celebrated setcha of the zaporogue cossacks. the setcha, as the reader is perhaps aware, was at first only a fortified spot, where the young men were trained to arms, and where the public deliberations and the elections of the chiefs were held. afterwards it became the fixed abode of warriors who lived in celibacy; and all who aspired to a reputation for valour were bound to pass at least three years there. i went over the island of cortetz, and saw everywhere numerous traces of fortifications and entrenched camps. it would not have been easy to select a position more suited to the purpose the cossacks had in view. the island is a natural fortress, rising more than feet above the water, and defended on all sides by masses of granite, that leave scarcely any thing for art to do to render it impregnable. we made our first halt, after our departure from the cataracts, at the house of a village superintendent, in whom we discovered, with surprise, a young frenchman, with the most parisian accent i ever heard. he is married to a woman of the country, and has been two years _prigatchik_ (superintendent) in one of general markof's villages. he placed his whole cabin at our disposal, with an alacrity that proved how delighted he was to entertain people from his native land. we had excellent honey, cream, and water-melons, set before us in profusion; but in spite of all our urgent entreaties, we could not prevail on him to partake with us. this made a painful impression on us. is the air of slavery so contagious that no one can breathe it without losing his personal dignity? this man, born in a land where social distinctions are almost effaced, voluntarily degraded himself in our eyes, by esteeming himself unworthy to sit by our side, just as though he were a born serf, and had been used from his childhood to servility. he gave us a brief history of his life, a melancholy tissue of disappointments and wretchedness, the narration of which deeply affected us. his ardour and his parisian wilfulness, his efforts and his hopes, all the exuberance of his twenty years, were cast into a withering atmosphere of disgusts and humiliations, which at last destroyed in him all feeling of nationality: he is become a slave through his intercourse alike with the masters and with the serfs; and what completely proves this, is the cold-blooded cruelty with which he chastises the peasants under him. the whole village is struck with consternation at the punishments he daily inflicts for the most trivial offences. while he was conversing with us, word was brought him that two women and three men had arrived at the place of punishment in pursuance to his orders. notwithstanding our entreaties, and the repugnance we felt at being so near such a scene, he ordered that they should each receive fifty blows of the stick, and double the number if they made any resistance. the wretched man thus avenges himself on the mujiks, for what he has himself endured at the hands of the russian aristocracy, and it is at best a hazardous revenge; even for his own sake he ought not to exasperate the peasants, who sometimes make fearful reprisals; frequent attempts have already been made to assassinate him, and although the criminals have paid dearly for their temerity, he may one day fall a victim to some more cunning or more fortunate aggressor. only the week before our visit, as his wife told us, a more daring attempt than any preceding one, had been made by a peasant who from the first had declared himself his enemy. after a long walk in the fields, the superintendent sat down under the shade of some trees in a ravine. overcome with heat and fatigue, he at last fell asleep, after placing his two pistols by his side. an instinctive fear possessed him even in sleep, and kept him sensible of the least noise around him. the body slept, but not the mind. suddenly his ear catches a suspicious sound; he opens his eyes, and sees a mujik stooping down softly in the act of picking up one of his pistols. there was so much ferocity in the man's looks, and such a stealthiness in his movements, that there could be no doubt of his intentions. the superintendent, with admirable presence of mind, raised himself on his elbow, and asked, with a yawn, what he was going to do with the pistol; to which the mujik, instantly putting on an air of affected stolidity peculiar to the russian serf, answered, that he was curious to see how a pistol was made. so saying, he handed the weapon to his master, without appearing in the least disconcerted. the unfortunate man nearly died under the knout, and the superintendent's wife remarked, with a _naïveté_, thoroughly russian, that he would have done much better to die outright. we had further opportunities in this village for remarking how little compassion the russian peasants have for each other. they look on at the beating of a comrade without evincing the least sympathy, or being moved by so degrading a sight to any reflection on their unhappy condition; it seems as though humanity has lost all claim on their hearts, so completely has servitude destroyed in them all capability of feeling, and all human dignity. we left this station about six in the evening, having still some twenty versts to travel before arriving at the first village of the german colonies of the moloshnia, where we intended to pass the night. thanks to the bad horses and the stupid driver our countryman had given us, we had scarcely got over a quarter of the ground when we were in total darkness. the coachman was all black and blue from the brutal treatment of his master, who had given him half a dozen blows in our presence. the fellow was every moment changing his road at random, without regard to the fresh corrections of the same sort, which antoine showered thickly upon him by way of admonition. he made us lose a great deal of time on the way, besides wearing out the strength of his cattle to no purpose. nothing can be more wearisome and monotonous than travelling in the steppes; but it is, above all, by night that the uniformity of the country is truly discouraging, for then you are every moment in danger of turning your back on the point you want to reach: you have an immensity like that of the sea around you, and a compass would be of real service. such, however, is the instinct of the peasants, that they find their way with ease, in the darkest night or the most violent snow-storm, through tracks crossing each other in every direction. our driver was an exception to the general rule, but sulkiness had more to do than inability with his apparent embarrassment. our perplexity increased considerably when we found that the horses at last refused to move. the night was very gloomy; there was not a twinkling of light, nor any sound or sign of human habitations; every fresh question we put to our driver only elicited the laconic answer, "_nesnai_" (i don't know); and when a russian has said _he does not know_, no power of tongue or stick can make him say _he knows_. of this we had a proof that night. our cossack, tired of vainly questioning the unlucky driver, began to tickle his shoulders with a long whip he carried at his girdle; but it was all to no purpose; and but one course remained to us, if we would not pass the night in the open air. the cossack unharnessed one of the horses, and set off to reconnoitre. after an absence of two hours, he came back and told us we were not very far from a german village, and that we might reach it in two hours; that is to say, provided our horses would move; but they were dead beat. here, again, the cossack relieved us from our difficulty, by yoking to the carriage a poor little colt that had followed its mother, without suspecting that it was that night to begin its hard apprenticeship. weak as was this reinforcement, it enabled us to advance, though very slowly; but at last the barking of dogs revived the mettle of our horses, and they broke into a trot for the first time. a forest of handsome trees and distant lights gave indubitable assurance of a village. it was not like the ordinary villages, collections of mean-looking _kates_ rising like mushrooms out of the arid ground, without a shrub to screen them; we were entering the german colonies, and the odours from the blossoming fruit-trees, and the sight of the pretty little red houses of which we caught glimpses through the trees, soon carried us in imagination far away from the russian steppes. with as keen delight as ever oasis caused the desert wanderer, we entered this pretty village, the name of which (_rosenthal_, rosedale) gives token of the poetic feeling of the germans. its extensive gardens obliged us to make a long _détour_. the people were all in bed when we arrived, and we had much difficulty in finding the house of the _schultz_ (the headborough). at last we discovered it, and the hospitable reception we met with soon made us forget the events of this memorable night. the region occupied by these colonies is unlike the steppes, though the form of the ground is the same. the villages are very close to each other, are all built on the same plan, and are for the most part sheltered in ravines. the houses have only a ground-floor, and are built with wood or with red and blue bricks, and have very projecting roofs. their parti-coloured walls, their carved wooden chimneys, and pretty straw roofs, that seem as neatly finished as the finest egyptian mats, produce a charming effect as seen through the green trees of the gardens that surround them. they are almost all exactly similar, even to the most minute details: a few only are distinguished from the rest by a little more colouring or carving, and a more elegant balustrade next the garden. the fields are in excellent cultivation; the pastures are stocked with fine cattle; and sheep-folds and wells placed here and there enliven the landscape, and break the fatiguing monotony of the plain; the whole face of the country tells of the thriving labours of the colonists. but one must enter their houses to appreciate the habits of order and industry to which they owe not only an ample supply for the necessaries of life, but almost always a degree of comfort rarely to be found in the dwellings of the russian nobles. one might even accuse the good housewives of a little sensuality, to see their eider-down beds and pillows heaped almost up to the ceiling. you may be certain of finding in every house a handsome porcelain stove, a glazed cupboard, containing crockery, and often plate, furniture carefully scrubbed and polished, curtains to the windows, and flowers in every direction. we passed two days in orlof with the wealthiest and most philanthropic proprietor in all the german villages. m. cornies came into the country about forty years ago, and started without capital, having like the others only a patch of land and some farming implements. after the lapse of a few years every one already envied his fortune, but all acknowledged his kindly solicitude for those who had been less prosperous than himself. endowed with an active and intelligent character, and strongly interested in the cause of human improvement, he afterwards became the leader in the work of civilising the nogai tartars, and he now continues with very great success the work so ably begun by one of our own countrymen, count maison. m. cornies is a corresponding member of the st. petersburg academy, and has contributed to its transactions several papers of learned research, and remarkable for the comprehensive scope of their ideas; hence he enjoys a great reputation not only among his countrymen, but likewise throughout all southern russia. his flocks, his nurseries, and his wools, are objects of interest to all persons engaged in trade, and his plans for the improvement of agriculture and cattle rearing, are generally adopted as models. though m. cornies is worth more than , _l._, his way of life is in strict conformity with the rigorism and simplicity of the mennonites, to which sect he belongs. the habits of these sectarians are of an extreme austerity that strips domestic life of all its ordinary charms. the wife and daughters of a mennonite, whatever be his fortune, are the only female servants in his house, and madame cornies and her daughters waited humbly on us at table, as though they had no right to sit at it with the head of the family. notwithstanding this apparent inequality of the sexes, there is a great deal of happiness in the married life of the mennonites; nor should it be forgotten that in judging of all matters appertaining to foreigners, we should endeavour to behold things in the peculiar light in which education and custom invest them for native eyes. the dress of the women is like their habits of life, plain and simple. it consists invariably of a gown of blue printed cotton, the bodice of which ends just below the bosom, an apron of the same material, and a white collar with a flat hem; the hair is combed back _à la chinoise_, and on it sits a little black cap without trimming, tied under the chin. this head-dress, which has some resemblance to that of the alsatian women, sets off a young and pretty face to advantage, but increases the ugliness of an ugly one. the dress of the men is the same as that of the german peasants, with the exception of some slight modifications. one dish of meat and two of vegetables, compose the whole dinner of a mennonite; each person at table has a large goblet of milk set before him instead of wine, the use of which is altogether prohibited in their sect. there are no regular priests in these colonies; the oldest and most esteemed members of each community, are elected to fulfil the office of the ministry. these elders read the bible every sunday, preach, and give out the hymns, which are sung by the whole congregation. the mennonites are generally well educated; but their information has no more than their wealth the effect of impairing the patriarchal simplicity of their habits. we happened to see a young man, belonging to one of the wealthiest families, on his return from a long foreign tour; he had visited france, switzerland, and germany, and yet it was with a most cordial alacrity he returned to share in the agricultural labours of his father and his brothers. all these german colonies are divided into two distinct groups: the one established on the right bank of the moloshnia vodi[ ] is composed of people from baden and swabia, and comprises twenty-three villages, with inhabitants; the other seated on the left coast of the black sea, and along the little rivulet joushendli, contains forty-three mennonite villages. as the latter is unquestionably the most important and thriving colony in southern russia, we will direct our attention to it almost exclusively. the mennonites, so called after the name of the founder of their sect, profess nearly the same religious principles as the anabaptists of france. they first arose in holland, the language of which country they still speak, and settled towards the close of the last century in northern prussia, in the vicinity of dantzig. attempts having been made about that time, to force them into military service, contrary to their tenets, a first migration took place, and the colony of cortetz, below the cataract of the dniepr, was founded under the auspices of catherine ii. that of moloshnia vodi, was founded in , by a fresh body of emigrants; it was greatly enlarged in , and at the end of the year , it covered , hectares of land, and contained forty-three villages, with inhabitants, including families of proprietors. the non-agricultural population is composed of handicraftsmen of all sorts, some of whom are very skilful. alpstadt, the chief place of the colony, has a cloth manufactory, in which seven looms are at work. wages are very high; for almost all the workmen as soon as they have saved any money, give up their trade and addict themselves to agriculture. each village is under the control of a headborough, called the _schultz_, and two assistants. they are elected every three years, but one of them remains in office a year after the two others, that he may afford their successors the necessary current information. an _oberschultz_ (mayor), who likewise has two assistants, resides in the chief place of the colony. these magistrates decide without appeal, in all the little differences that may arise between the colonists. important cases are carried before the central committee. as for criminal cases, of which there has yet been no example, they fall under the jurisdiction of the russian tribunals. laziness is punished by fine and forced labour for the benefit of the community. the inspector, who represents the government, resides in the swabian colony, on the right bank of the moloshnia. odessa is the seat of the administrative council, which consists of a president and three judges, all russians, nominated by the emperor. the committee exercises a general control over all the colonies, and ratifies the elections of the schultzes and their assistants. its last president was the infantry general inzof, a man remarkable for his personal character and the deep interest he took in the establishments under his direction. every proprietor has sixty-five hectares of land, for which he pays an annual quit-rent to the crown of fifteen kopeks per hectare; besides which he pays four rubles a year towards defraying the general expenses of the colony, the salaries of the committee, the inspector, the schoolmasters, &c. each village has a granary for reserve against seasons of dearth; it must always contain two tchetverts of wheat for every male head. the cattle is all under the management of one chief herdsman, at whose call they leave their stalls in the morning, and return in the evening to the village. every five or six years one or more new villages are established. a newly-established family does not at once receive its sixty-five hectares of land; if the young couple do not choose to reside with their parents, they generally build themselves a little house beyond the precincts of the village. but when the young families are become so numerous that their united allotments shall form a space sufficient for the pasture of their flocks in common, and for the execution of the agricultural works enjoined by the regulations, then, and not till then, the new colonists obtain permission to establish themselves on the uncultivated lands. at present the mennonite colony possesses nearly , hectares of land not yet brought under the plough. thus these germans, transplanted to the extremity of southern russia, have successfully realised some of the ideas of the celebrated economist, fourrier. it will readily be conceived that under such a system of administration, and, above all, with their simple habits, their sobriety and industry, these mennonites must naturally have outstripped the other colonists in prosperity. those from swabia and baden, though subjected to precisely the same regulations, will never attain to the same degree of wealth. they are generally fond of good cheer, and addicted to drink; but they have, perhaps, the merit of understanding life better than their puritanical neighbours, and of making the most of the gifts providence has bestowed on them. the mennonite colony possessed at the close of :-- horned cattle , horses , merino sheep , fruit-trees in the gardens , forest trees , these last have since perished for the most part. the sale of wheat in , amounted to , rubles. the provisions for public instruction are highly satisfactory. the colony numbers forty schools, attended by pupils of both sexes, who are taught the german language, arithmetic, history, and geography. russian is also taught in two of the schools. the mennonites, as well as the other german colonists of southern russia, for a long while enjoyed a very special protection on the part of the government; and both the present sovereign and his predecessor have on several occasions given them signal proofs of their favour. but unhappily their committee was suppressed eighteen months ago, and this measure will be fatal to them. they had long looked forward with alarm to a change in their affairs, and sent many deputations to st. petersburg, to solicit a continuance of the original system: their efforts were ineffectual; the work of centralization and unity has involved them in their turn, and they are now in immediate dependence on the newly-constituted ministry of the domains of the crown. no doubt the government had a full right to act in this manner; and after having allowed the colonists to enjoy their peculiar privileges for such a long series of years, it may now, without incurring any obloquy, subject them to the ordinary system of administration prevalent in the empire. but it is not the less certain, seeing the corruption and venality of the russian functionaries, that this change of system will lead to the ruin of the colonists, and that, notwithstanding all the efforts and the good intentions of the government, when once the germans are put under the same management as the crown serfs, they will be unable to save their property from the rapacity of their new controlers. the colonies have been but a few months under the direction of the ministry of the domains, and already several hundred families have abandoned their dwellings and their lands, and retired to germany. i saw a great number of them arrive in , in moldavia, where they thought to form some settlements; but they did not succeed. besides the german colonies of which we have been speaking, there are others in the environs of nicolaïef and odessa, in bessarabia and the crimea, and about the coasts of the sea of azov. altogether these foreign colonies in new russia, number upwards of villages, containing more than , souls. in the midst of them are several villages inhabited by russian dissenters, entertaining nearly the same religious views as the mennonites and anabaptists. these are the douckoboren and molokaner, who separated from the national church about years ago, at which time they were resident in several of the central provinces; but the government being alarmed at the spread of their doctrines, transported them forcibly to new russia, where it placed them under military supervision. here they admirably availed themselves of the examples set them by the germans, and soon attained a high degree of prosperity. in , they amounted to a population of souls, occupying thirteen villages. most of their houses were in the german style, and every thing about them was indicative of plenty. two years after this first visit to them, i met on the road from taganrok to rostof, two large detachments of exiles escorted by two battalions of infantry. they were the unfortunate dissenters of the moloshnia, who had been expelled from their villages, and were on their way to the military lines of the caucasus. the most perfect decorum and the most touching resignation appeared in the whole body. the women alone showed signs of anger, whilst the men sang hymns in chorus. i asked several of them whither they were going; their answer was "god only knows." after leaving the german colonies, we passed through several villages of nogaï tatars. we shall reserve what we have to say of these people for another place. footnotes: [ ] the moloshnia vodi (milk river) is a little stream emptying itself between berdiansk and guenitshky into the liman of a lake which no longer communicates with the sea of azov. chapter xi. marioupol--berdiansk--knavish jew postmaster--taganrok-- memorials of peter the great and alexander--great fair--the general with two wives--morality in russia--adventures of a philhellene--a french doctor--the english consul--horse races--a first sight of the kalmucks. our arrival in marioupol unpleasantly reminded us that we were no longer in the german colonies. a dirty inn-room, horses not forthcoming, bread not to be had, nor even fresh water, rude _employés_--every thing in short was in painful contrast with the comfort and facilities to which we became accustomed in our progress through the thriving villages of the mennonites. marioupol is the chief place of an important colony founded on the shores of the sea of azov, at the mouth of the kalmious, by the greeks whom catherine ii. removed thither from the crimea in . it now reckons eighty villages, a population of about , , occupying , _hectares_[ ] of land. the taxes paid by these colonists amount to ten kopeks per _hectare_; in addition to which, each family contributes one ruble fifty kopeks towards the salary of the government officers in their district. they enjoy several privileges, have their own magistrates and subordinate judges, elected by themselves, and are exempt from military service. criminal cases and suits not terminated before their own tribunals, come under the general laws and regulations of the empire. agriculture and commerce are the chief resources of the colony, but i have seen no trace of the mulberry plantations attributed to it. having been for a long series of ages subject to the khans of the crimea, all these greeks speak a corrupt tatar dialect among themselves. they are on the whole a degenerate and thoroughly unprincipled race, particularly in marioupol, the traders of which enrich themselves by robbing the agriculturists, who are forced to sell them their produce. marioupol is a large dirty village, and its port, which has only a custom-house of exit, is nothing but a paltry roadstead of little depth, in which vessels are sheltered from none but western winds. with the exception of a solitary brig, there were only some small coasting vessels in it when we visited the place. its export trade is considerable notwithstanding, amounting to the annual value of four or five millions of francs. marioupol is infallibly destined to lose all its commercial importance since the foundation of the new and more advantageously-situated harbour of berdiansk, to which the greater part of the produce of the surrounding country already takes its way. as a general rule, one town of southern russia can prosper only at the expense and by the abandonment of another; thus kherson has been sacrificed to odessa, theodosia to kertch, &c. it must, however, be owned that the preference given to berdiansk is well grounded. placed at the mouth of the berda, that town is unquestionably the best port on the sea of azov. its population in was , and during the year it exported , tchetverts of wheat; its importation is a blank as yet. after waiting several hours we at last procured horses that conveyed us rapidly to the next post; but there we had another stoppage. the clerk had a fancy to squeeze our purses, and knew no better way of doing so than by refusing us horses. commands, threats, and abuse, never for a moment ruffled his dogged composure. unfortunately our cossack had been seized with a violent fever, and remained behind at marioupol; had he been with us the clerk would hardly have ventured on his tricks, for he would have been sure of a sound drubbing. but this manner of enforcing compliance was not in our way, and as we had written authority to hire horses from the peasants wherever we found them, we sent anthony to the next village, and thought no more about being supplied by the postmaster. our unconcern began to alarm the clerk; gangs of horses were every moment returning from pasture, and he saw plainly that his position was becoming critical. after an hour's absence anthony appeared in the distance with three stout horses and a driver. i will not attempt to depict the consternation of the jew when he was assured that the team was really for us. he threw himself at our feet, knocked his head against the ground, and in short, evinced such a passion of grovelling fear, that disgusted and wearied with his importunities, we at last promised not to make any complaint against him. we made all haste to quit the spot, and in five hours afterwards we were in taganrok. the town, situated on the bay of the same name at the northern extremity of the sea of azov, is the chief place of a distinct administrative district, dependent on iekaterinoslav only as regards the courts of law, and comprising within its limits, rostof, marioupol, nakitchevane, and a little territory lying round the northern end of the sea, and encompassed by the country of the don. its boundaries are, on one side, the mious, which falls into the sea of azov, and on the other side, the government of the cossacks of the black sea. taganrok was founded in , by peter the great, after the taking of azov, and was demolished in pursuance of the treaty of the pruth. war with turkey having been renewed, it was rebuilt in , and fortified; and a harbour was constructed, surrounded with a mole, the remains of which are still seen just level with the surface of the water. this harbour is a long rectangle, with a single entrance towards the west. there is some idea of renovating it, by reconstructing its mole, and clearing it of the sand with which it has been long choked; but this project, if carried into effect, will not remove the natural defects of the taganrok roadstead. the water is so low, that vessels are obliged to lie from four to six leagues off the shore, and to load and unload their cargoes in a curious round-about, and very expensive manner. waggons surmounted with platforms loaded with grain, perform the first part of the process, and advance in files, often to a distance of half a league into the sea. there they are unloaded into large barges, and these almost always require the aid of a third auxiliary, before their freight is finally shipped. on approaching taganrok, one almost fancies the town before him is odessa. its position on the sea of azov, the character of the landscape, its churches, its great extent, and every feature of the place, even to the fortress commanding it, combine to favour the illusion. taganrok has thriven rapidly, as peter the great foresaw it would do, and has become one of the most commercial towns of southern russia. its trade, however, has considerably diminished since the suppression of its lazaret, and the closure of the sea of azov, in consequence of a fifty days' quarantine established at kertch. the town now contains , inhabitants. peter the great's sojourn in taganrok, is commemorated by an oak wood of his own planting. such a memorial of a great prince is certainly better than a pompous monument; more durable, and more philanthropic, particularly in a country destitute of forests. it was at taganrok that the emperor alexander died, far away from the splendours of st. petersburg. as we visited the modest dwelling that served him for his last abode, all the events of the great epoch in which he was one of the most illustrious actors crowded on our memories. the bed-room where he died has been converted into a _chapelle ardente_, but in every other respect the house has been preserved with religious care, just as he left it. there was a fair in the town when we arrived. the suffocating heat, the clouds of dust, and the crowded state of all the hotels, at first made us look unfavourably on the place, but the diversions of the fair soon reconciled us to the inconveniences of our lodgings. in russia, fairs still retain an importance they scarcely any longer possess in our more civilised countries. every town has its own, which is more or less frequented; that of nijni novgorod is reputed the most considerable on the european continent; all the nations of europe and asia, send their representatives to it. next after it, the fair of karkhof, is in high esteem among merchants for its rich furs. these fairs often last more than a month, and they are impatiently looked forward to by all the country nobles, whom they enable for a while to breathe as it were the odour of fashionable town life. balls, theatres, shopping, music, horse races--what a world of pleasures in the compass of a few days! and every one sets about enjoying them with feverish ardour. every thing else is interrupted; the fair to-day, all other concerns to-morrow. at some little distance from taganrok, there are huge bazaars filled with oriental merchandise, and the covered alleys are crowded with fashionable loungers in the evening. a very curious spectacle indeed is this labyrinth of persian cloths, slippers, furs, parisian bonnets and caps, shawls from kashmir, and a thousand other articles too numerous to detail. every thing is arranged to the best advantage, and the eye is delighted with the picturesque and fantastic medley of colours and forms. europe and asia are matched against each other, and exert all their arts of fascination to allure purchasers. in spite of all the elegance of the french fashions, it must be owned that our little bonnets and our scanty mantillas cut but a sorry figure beside the muslins interwoven with gold and silver, the rich termalamas and the furs that adorn the shops of the country. and yet all eyes, all desires, all purses turn towards the productions of france. some faded ribands and trumpery bonnets attract a greater number of pretty customers than all the gorgeous wares of asia. during our stay at taganrok, we were invited to a ball at the mansion of general khersanof, son-in-law of the celebrated hetman platof. the general possesses the handsomest residence in the town, and keeps his state like a real prince, amidst the motley society of a commercial town. all his apartments are stuccoed and decorated with equal taste and magnificence. the windows consist of single panes of plate glass more than three yards high. the furniture, lustres, ceilings, and pictures, all display a feeling for the fine arts, and a sumptuosity governed by good taste, which may well surprise us in a cossack. in front of the mansion lies a handsome garden, which was lighted up with coloured lamps for the occasion. the whole front of the dwelling was brilliantly illuminated. it was a magic _coup d'oeil_, particularly as it was aided by the transparent atmosphere of a beautiful summer night, that vied in purity with the clearest of those of the south. on entering the first _salon_, we were met by the general, who immediately presented us to his two wives. but the reader will say, is bigamy allowed among the cossacks? not exactly so; but if the laws and public opinion are against it, still a man of high station may easily evade both; and general khersanof has been living for many years in open, avowed bigamy, without finding that his _salons_ are the less frequented on account of such a trifle. in russia, wealth covers every thing with its glittering veil, and sanctions every kind of eccentricity, however opposed to the usages of the land, provided it redeem them by plenty of balls and entertainments. public opinion, such as exists in france, is here altogether unknown. the majority leave scruples of conscience to timorous souls, without even so much as acknowledging their merit. a man the slave of his word, and a woman of her reputation, could not be understood in a country where caprice reigns as absolute sovereign. a russian lady, to whom i made some remarks on this subject, answered _naïvely_, that none but low people could be affected by scandal, inasmuch as censure can only proceed from superiors. she was perfectly right, for, situated as the nobility are, who would dare to criticise and condemn their faults? in order that public opinion should exist, there must be an independent class, capable of uttering its judgments without fearing the vengeance of those it calls before its bar; there must be a free country in which the acts of every individual may be impartially appreciated; in short, the words justice, honour, honesty, and delicacy of feeling must have a real meaning, instead of being the sport of an elegant and corrupt caste, that systematically makes a mock of every thing not subservient to its caprices and passions. notwithstanding their opulence, and the society that frequents their _salons_, mesdames khersanof retain a simplicity of manners and costume in curious contrast with every thing around them. an embarrassed air, vulgar features, an absence of all dignity in bearing and in conversation, and an ungainly style of dress--this was all that struck us as most remarkable about them. the younger wore a silk gown of a sombre colour, with a short body and straight sleeves, and so narrow that it might be taken for a bag. a silk kerchief covered her shoulders and part of her neck, and her little cap put me strongly in mind of the head-gear of our master-cooks. the whole costume was mean, awkward, and insipid. except a few brilliants in her girdle and her cap, she showed no other trace of that asiatic splendour which is still affected by many other women of this country. it is said that the two co-wives live on the best possible terms with each other. the general seems quite at his ease with respect to them, and goes from the one to the other with the same marks of attention and affection. his first wife is very old, and might be taken for the mother of the second. we were assured that being greatly distressed at having no children, she had herself advised her husband to make a new choice. the general fixed on a very pretty young peasant working on his own property. in order to diminish the great disparity of rank between them, he married her to one of his officers, who, on coming out of church, received orders to depart instantly on a distant mission, from which he never returned. some time afterwards the young woman was installed in the general's brilliant mansion, and presented to all his acquaintance as madame khersanof. two charming daughters are the fruit of this not very orthodox union. dressed in seraphines of blue silk, they performed the russian and the cossack dances with exquisite grace, and enchanted us during the whole continuance of the ball. the russian dance fascinates by its simplicity and poetry, and differs entirely from all other national dances: it consists not so much in the steps, as in a pensive, natural pantomime, in which northern calmness and gravity are tempered by a charming grace and timidity. less impassioned than the dances of spain, it affects the senses with a gentle langour which it is not easy to resist. we met with a frenchman at taganrok, a real hero of romance. at eighteen his adventurous temper impelled him to quit the service to go and play a part in the greek revolution. he participated in all the chances and dangers of the struggle against the turks; and battling sometimes as a guerrillero, sometimes as a seaman, and sometimes as a diplomatist, he was thrown into more or less immediate contact with all those who shed such a lustre on the war of independence. in one of his campaigns he chanced to save the life of a young and pretty smyrniote, whom he lost no time in marrying and bearing far away from the scenes of massacre with which the whole archipelago then abounded. a russian nobleman advised him to repair to moscow, and furnished him with the means. his wife's magnificent greek costume, her youth and beauty, produced an intense sensation in that capital. the whole court, which was then in moscow, was full of interest for the young smyrniote, and the empress even sought to attach her to her person by the most tempting offers. madame de v. refused them, preferring to remain with her husband, whose conduct, however, was far from irreproachable. being young, very handsome, and of an enterprising character, his successes among the muscovite ladies were very numerous; and he was everywhere known by the name of the handsome frenchman. an adventure that made a great deal of noise, and in which a lady of the court had completely compromised her reputation for his sake, obliged him to quit moscow in the midst of his triumphs. he then led his wife from one capital to another, presenting her everywhere as an interesting victim of the greek revolution. after this european tour, he returned to paris, where he passed some years. many eminent artists of that city painted the portrait of his wife, who is still very beautiful. in he left paris and settled in taganrok as a teacher of the french language; and there this poet, traveller, man of the world, and _beau cavalier_ is throwing away almost all his advantages, which are of little service to him in the walk he has chosen, and in a town where there are so few persons capable of appreciating him. our whole colony in taganrok consists of doctor meunier, who acts as consul; m. de v., and a provençal lady, who keeps a boarding-school. this doctor meunier is another original. he passed i know not how many years in the service of the shah of persia, who had a great regard for him, and invested him on his departure with the order of the sun, a magnificent decoration, more brilliant than that of a grand cordon. having shrewdly availed himself of his extensive opportunities for observation, his acquaintance is highly to be prized by all who love to give their imagination free scope: his graphic and marvellous stories are like pages from the arabian nights. in an instant, he sets before his hearers palaces of gold and azure, bewitching almehs, towns ruined to their foundations, towers of human heads, a french milliner superintending the education of persian ladies, princes, beggars, dervishes, unbounded luxury side by side with the most hideous poverty, and all that the east can show to move, allure, or terrify the soul. one of the houses that offer most attractions for foreigners, is that of mr. yeams, brother of the english consul-general of odessa. we found him possessed of all his brother's amiable qualities and perfect tact. when the english can shake off the stiffness with which they are so justly reproached, and their immoderate pride, they are perhaps the most agreeable of all acquaintances. they generally possess strong powers of observation and analysis, large and sound information, genuine dignity of conduct, and above all, a good-humoured kindliness, that is more winning for the pains they take to conceal it. while looking over mr. yeams' english, french, and german library, and the journals of all nations that lie on the tables, it is not easy to believe oneself on the shores of the sea of azov, and on the outskirts of europe. the "journal des débats," the "times," and the "augsburg gazette," put you _au courant_ of the affairs of europe, as though paris and london were not a thousand leagues away from you. it is not to be conceived into what a confusion of ideas one is cast at first, by the sight of a room filled with books, maps, journals, familiar articles of furniture, and people talking french: you ask yourself what is become of the days and nights you have spent in galloping post, the vast extent of sea you have crossed, the leagues of land and water, the regions and the climes you have left between you and your native country. with the advances civilisation is daily making, distances will soon be annulled; for distance to my thinking, consists not in difference of longitude, but in diversity of manners and ideas. i certainly felt myself nearer to france in taganrok than i should have been in certain cantons of switzerland or germany. on the eve of our departure we attended some horse-races, that interested us only by the number and the variety of the spectators. there we began to make acquaintance with the kalmucks, some of whom had come to the fair to sell their horses, the breed of which is in great request throughout the south of russia. there was nothing very captivating in the mongol features and savage appearance of these worshippers of the grand lama; and when i saw the jealous and disdainful looks they cast on those around them, and heard their loud yells whenever a horse passed at full speed before them, i could not help feeling some apprehension at the thought that i should soon have to throw myself on their hospitality. taganrok has the strongest resemblance to a levantine town, so much are its greek and italian inhabitants in a majority over the rest of the population. such was the perpetual hubbub, that we could hardly persuade ourselves we were in russia, where the people usually make as little noise as possible, lest the echo of their voices should reach st. petersburg. the greeks, though subjected to the imperial _régime_, are less circumspect, and retain under the northern sky the vivacity and restless temperament that characterise their race. we particularly admired that day, a number of young greek women, whose black eyes and elegant figures attracted every gaze. a string of carriages was drawn up round part of the race-course, and enabled us to review all the aristocratic families of the town and neighbourhood. the ladies were dressed as for a ball, with short sleeves, their heads uncovered and decked with flowers. a blazing sun and whirlwinds of dust, such as would be thought fabulous in any other country, soon dimmed all this finery, and drove away most of the spectators: we were not the last to seek refuge in the covered alleys of a neighbouring bazaar, where we had ices and delicious water-melons set before us in the armenian café for a few kopeks. footnotes: [ ] a _hectare_ is a little more than two acres. chapter xii. departure from taganrok--sunset in the steppes--a gipsy camp --rostof; a town unparalleled in the empire--navigation of the don--azov; st. dimitri--aspect of the don--nakitchevane, and its armenian colony. as we turned our backs on taganrok, we could easily foresee what we should have to suffer during our journey. a long drought and a temperature of ° had already changed the verdant plains of the don into an arid desert. at times the wind raised such billows of dust around us, that the sky was completely veiled from our eyes; our breath failed us, and the blood boiled in our ears; our sufferings for the moment were horrible. the hot air of a conflagration does not cause a more painful sense of suffocation than that produced by the wind of the desert. the horses could not stand against it, but stopped and hung down their heads, seeming as much distressed as ourselves. as we approached the don the country was not quite such a dead, unbroken flat as before; a few cossack stanitzas began to show themselves among the clumps of trees on the banks of the river. deep gullies lined with foliage, and the traces of several streams, show how agreeable this part of the steppes must be in spring; but at the period of our journey every thing had been dried up and almost calcined by the rays of a sun which no cloud had obscured for two months. before reaching rostof, we passed through a large armenian village. its picturesque position, in the midst of a ravine, and the oriental fashion of its houses, give some interest and variety to these lonely regions, and transiently busy the imagination. the evening promised to be very beautiful; something serene, calm, and melancholy, had succeeded to the enervating heat of the day. sunset in the steppes is like sunset nowhere else. in a country of varied surface, the gradually lengthening shadows give warning long beforehand that the sun is approaching the horizon. but here there is nothing to intercept its rays until the moment it sinks below the line of the steppe; then the night falls with unequalled rapidity; in a few moments all trace is gone of that brilliant luminary that just before was making the whole west ablaze. it is a magnificent transformation, a sudden transition to which the grandeur of the scene adds almost supernatural majesty and strangeness. fatigued by the rapidity with which we had been travelling since we left taganrok, i took advantage of our halt at a post station, not far from the village, to ascend the rising ground that concealed the road from my view. as i have said, the night had come down suddenly, and there remained in the west but a few pale red stripes that were fading away with every second. at the opposite point of the horizon the broad red glowing moon, such as it appears when it issues from the sea, was climbing majestically towards the zenith, and already filled that region of the heavens with a soft and mysterious radiance. the greater part of the steppe was still in gloom, whilst a golden fringe marked the limits of earth and sky: the effect was very singular and splendid. when i reached the summit of the hill an involuntary cry of surprise and alarm escaped me. i remained motionless before the unexpected scene that presented itself to my eyes--a whole gipsy camp, realising one of sir walter scott's most striking fictions. dispersed over the whole surface of the globe, and placed at the bottom of the social scale, this vagrant people forms in russia, as elsewhere, a real tribe of pariahs, whose presence is regarded with disgust, even by the peasants. the government has attempted to settle a colony of these bedouins of europe in bessarabia, but with little success hitherto. true to the traditional usages of their race, the tsigans abhor every thing belonging to agriculture and regular habits. no bond has ever been found strong enough to check that nomade humour they inherit from their forefathers, and which has resisted the rude climate of russia and the despotism of its government. just as in italy and spain, they roam from village to village, plying various trades, stealing horses, poultry, and fruit, telling fortunes, procuring by fraud or entreaty the means of barely keeping themselves alive, and infinitely preferring such a vagabond and lazy existence to the comfort they might easily secure with a moderate amount of labour. their manner of travelling reminds one of the emigrations of barbarous tribes. marching always in numerous bodies, they pass from place to place with all they possess. the women, children, and aged persons, are huddled together in a sort of cart called _pavoshk_, drawn each by one or two small horses with long manes. all their wealth consists of a few coarse brown blankets, which form their tents by night, and in some tools employed in their chief trade, that of farriery. all travellers who have visited russia, speak with enthusiasm of the gipsy singing heard in the moscow _salons_. no race perhaps possesses an aptitude for music in a higher degree than these gipsies. in many other respects too, their intelligence appeared to us remarkable. a long abode in moldavia, where there are said to be more than , tsigans, enabled us to study with facility the curious habits of this people, and to collect a great number of facts, which would not perhaps be without interest for the majority of readers.[ ] the tsigans pass the fine season in travelling from fair to fair, encamping for some weeks in the neighbourhood of the towns, and living, heedless of the future, in thorough asiatic indolence; but when the snows set in, and the northern blasts sweep those vast plains as level as the sea, the condition of these wretched creatures is such, as may well excite the strongest pity. but half clad, cowling in huts sunk below the surface of the ground, and destitute of the commonest necessaries, it is inconceivable how they live through the winter. horrible as such a state of existence must be, they never give it a thought from the moment the breath of the south enables them to resume their vagrant career. recklessness is the predominant feature in their character, and the most frightful sufferings cannot force them to bestow a moment's consideration on the future. the singular apparition that had suddenly arrested my steps by the road side, was that of a troop of gipsies encamped for the night in that lonely spot, about thirty yards from the road, near a field of water-melons. their _pavoshks_ were arranged in a circle, with the shafts turned upwards, and support the cloths of their tents, which could only be entered by creeping on all fours. two large fires burned at a little distance from the tents, and round them sat about fifty persons of the most frightful appearance. their sooty colour, matted hair, wild features, and the rags that scarcely covered them, seen by the capricious light of the flames, that sometimes glared up strongly, and at other moments suddenly sank down and left every thing in darkness, produced a sort of demoniacal spectacle, that recalled to the imagination those sinister scenes of which they have so long been made the heroes. the history of all that is most repulsive in penury and the habits of a vagrant life, was legible in their haggard faces, in the restless expression of their large black eyes, and the sort of voluptuousness with which they grovelled in the dust; one would have said it was their native element, and that they felt themselves born for the mire with all swarming creatures of uncleanness. the women especially appeared hideous to me. covered only with a tattered petticoat, their breasts, arms, and part of their legs bare, their eyes haggard, and their faces almost hidden under their straggling locks, they retained no semblance of their sex, or even of humanity. the faces of some old men struck me, however, by their perfect regularity of features, and by the contrast between their white hair and the olive hue of their skins. all were smoking, men, women, and children. it is a pleasure they esteem almost as much as drinking spirits. what painter's imagination ever conceived a wilder or more fantastic picture! hitherto they had not perceived me, but the noise of our carriage, which was rapidly advancing, and my husband's voice, put them on the alert. the whole gang instantly started to their feet, and i found myself, not without some degree of dread, surrounded by a dozen of perfectly naked children, all bawling to me for alms. some young girls seeing the fright i was in began to sing in so sweet and melodious a manner, that even our cossack seemed affected. we remained a long while listening to them, and admiring the picturesque effect of their encampment in the steppes, under the beautiful and lucid night sky. no thought of serious danger crossed our minds, and, indeed, it would have been quite absurd; but in any other country than russia such an encounter would have been far from agreeable. in the course of the following day we reached rostof, a pretty little town on the don, entirely different in appearance from the other russian towns. you have here none of the cold, monotonous straight lines that afflict the traveller's sight from one end of the empire to the other; but the inequality of the ground, and the wish to keep near the harbour, have obliged the inhabitants to build their houses in an irregular manner, which has a very picturesque effect. the population, too, a mixture of russians, greeks, and cossacks, have in their ways and habits nothing at all analogous to the systematic stiffness and military drill that seem to regulate all the actions of the russians. the influence of a people long free has changed even the character of the chancery _employés_, who are here exempt from that arrogance and self-sufficiency that distinguish the petty nobles of russia. hence society is much more agreeable in rostof than in most of the continental towns. the ridiculous pretensions of _tchin_ (rank) do not there assail you at every step; there is a complete fusion of nationality, tastes, and ideas, to the great advantage of all parties. this secret influence exercised by the cossacks on the russians, is worthy of note, and seems to prove that the defects of the latter are attributable rather to their political system, than to the inherent character of the nation. their natural gaiety, kept down by the secret inquisition of a sovereign power, readily gets the upper hand when opportunity offers. the public functionaries associate freely in rostof, with the cossacks and the greek merchants, without any appearance of the haughty exclusiveness elsewhere conspicuous in their class. one thing that greatly surprised us, and that shows how much liberal ideas are in favour in this town, is the establishment of a sort of casino, where all grades of society assemble on sunday, to dance and hold parties of pleasure. this is without a parallel elsewhere. this casino contains a large ball-room, handsome gardens, billiard and refreshment-rooms, and every thing else that can be desired in an establishment of the sort. though all persons are at liberty to enter without payment, it is nevertheless frequented by the best society, who dance there as heartily as in the most aristocratic _salons_. all distinctions vanish in the casino: public functionaries, shopkeepers, officers' wives, work-girls, foreigners, persons, in short, of all ranks and conditions mingle together, forming an amusing pell-mell, that reminds one, by its unceremonious gaiety, of the _bals champêtres_ of the environs of paris. every thing is a matter of surprise to the traveller in this little town, so remote from all civilisation: the hotels are provided with good restaurants, clean chambers, each furnished with a bed, and all appurtenances complete (a thing unheard of everywhere else in the interior of russia), besides many other things that are hardly to be found even in odessa. rostof is the centre of all the commerce of the interior of the empire, with the sea of azov, and with a large portion of the russian coasts of the black sea. through this town pass all the productions of siberia, and the manufactured goods intended for consumption throughout the greater part of southern russia. these goods are floated down the volga as far as doubofka, in the vicinity of saritzin. they are then carried by land, a distance of about thirty-eight miles to kahilnitzkaia, where they are embarked on the don, and conveyed to rostof, their general _entrepôt_. the barges on the don and the volga are flat; feet long, from twenty to twenty-six wide, and about six feet deep. they draw only two feet of water, and cost from to rubles. they are freighted with timber and firewood, mats, bark, pitch, tar, hemp, cables, and cordage, pig and wrought iron, pieces of artillery, anchors, lead, copper, butter, &c. the whole traffic and navigation of the don, down stream, from kahalnitzkaia, depends on the arrivals from the volga. the barges employed on the latter river, being put together with wooden bolts, are taken asunder at doubofka, and laid with their cargoes in carts, on which they are conveyed to the banks of the don.[ ] seven or eight days are sufficient for this operation, the expense of which amounts nearly to a quarter of the capital employed. thus every year the crown and the merchants spend from , to , , rubles at doubofka. it is reckoned that , pairs of oxen, on an average, are employed on the road connecting the two rivers. the charge for heavy goods is from sixty to sixty-five kopeks the kilogrammes. the vessels that ascend the upper don convey the goods above-named to the government of voronege and the adjoining ones; besides which, some are freighted with the fruits and wines of the don. scarcely any traffic ascends the lower part of the river. the coasting trade of rostof is, therefore, brisk, and particularly so since the establishment of the quarantine at kertch. there were exported from the town, in , for russian ports, more than , , rubles' worth of domestic goods of various kinds, and about , rubles' worth of provisions, chiefly intended for the armies. flax-seed and common wool have also become, within the last three years, rather important articles of export to foreign countries. the population of rostof is about . azov, on the other side of the don, a little below rostof, is now only a large village. its long celebrated fortress has been abandoned, and is falling into ruin. it is said to occupy the site of the ancient tana, built by the greeks of the bosphorus. the fort of saint dimitri, built by peter the great, between rostof and nakhitchevane, has had the same fate as azov. it was formerly destined to protect the country against the incursions of the turks, who were then masters of the opposite bank. the post-road traverses its whole length, and then continues all the way to nakhitchevane, along a raised causeway, and overlooks the whole basin of the river. nothing can be more varied than the wide landscapes through which one travels along this extended ridge. behind lies rostof, with its harbour full of vessels, and its houses rising in terrace rows, one above the other, its greek churches, and its hanging gardens. on the right is the calm and limpid mirror of the river, spreading out into a broad basin, with banks shaded with handsome poplars. fishing-boats, rafts, and barges diversify its surface, and give the most picturesque appearance to this part of the landscape. then in front, nakhitchevane, the elegant armenian town, towers before you, the glazed windows of its great bazaars glittering in the sun. enter the town, and you are surprised by a vision of the east, as you behold the capricious architecture of the buildings, and the handsome asiatic figures that pass before you. impelled by our recollections of constantinople, we visited every quarter of the town without delay. at the sight of the veiled women, trailing their yellow slippers along the ground with inimitable _nonchalance_, the oriental costumes, the long white beards, the merchants sitting on their heels before their shops, and the bazaars filled with the productions of asia, we fancied ourselves really transported to one of the trading quarters of stamboul; the illusion was complete. the shops abound with articles, many of which appeared to us very curious. the armenians are excellent workers in silver. we were shown some remarkably beautiful saddles, intended for caucasian chiefs. one of them covered with blue velvet, adorned with black enamelled silver plates, and with stirrups of massive silver, and a brilliantly adorned bridle, had been ordered for a young circassian princess. here, as in constantinople, each description of goods has its separate bazaar, and the shops are kept by men only. this armenian town, seated on the banks of the don, in the heart of a country occupied by the cossacks, is still one of those singularities which are only to be met with in russia. one cannot help asking what can have been the cause why these children of the east have transplanted themselves into a region, where nothing is in harmony with their manner of being; where the language, habits, and wants of the inhabitants are diametrically opposite to their own, and where nature herself reminds them, by stern tokens, that their presence there is but an accident. it is true that the armenians are essentially cosmopolitan, and accommodate themselves to all climates and governments, when their pecuniary interests require it. industrious, intelligent, and frugal, they thrive everywhere, and commerce springs up with their presence, in every place where they settle. thus it was that nakhitchevane, the town of traffic _par excellence_, to which purchasers resort from the distance of twenty-five leagues all round it, arose amidst the wilderness of the don. it was only armenians who could have effected such a prodigy, and found the means of prosperity in a retail trade. but nothing has escaped their keen sagacity; every source of profit is largely employed by them. they do not confine themselves to the local trade; on the contrary, there is not a fair in all southern russia that is not attended by dealers from nakhitchevane. the supply of dress and arms to the inhabitants of the caucasus, still forms one of the principal branches of commerce for these armenians. they maintain a pretty close correspondence with the mountaineers, and are even accused of serving them as spies. as to their social habits, the armenians are in nakhitchevane what they are everywhere else; they may change their country and their garb, but their manners and their usages never undergo any alteration. their race is like a tree whose trunk is almost destroyed, but which throws up at every point new shoots, invariable in their nature, and differing from each other only in some outward particulars. the colony of nakhitchevane dates from the year , when catherine ii. had the greater part of the armenians of the crimea transported to the banks of the don. the colonists are divided into agriculturists and shopkeepers. the former inhabit five villages, containing a population of ; the others reside exclusively in the town, which is the chief place of their establishment, and contains about souls. these armenians enjoy the same privileges as the greeks of marioupol, already mentioned. they are under the control of functionaries chosen by themselves, and it happens very rarely that they are obliged to have recourse to the russian tribunals. the following was the decision adopted by the council of the empire, in , relatively to the armenians of new russia. "the descendants of the armenians settled at the invitation of the government, in the towns of karasson bazar, starikrim in the crimea, nakhitchevane, and gregorioupol, in the government of kherson, will continue to pay, not the poll-tax, but the land-tax, and that on houses, according to the privileges granted to their fathers by an ukase of october , ; whilst those who have settled since that time, as well as all armenians generally, shall be liable to the poll-tax, in pursuance of an ukase of may , ; in addition to which they shall pay from january , ; viz., townspeople and artisans, seven rubles per house, and agriculturists seventeen and a half kopeks per deciatine of land." footnotes: [ ] as the plan of the present work does not allow of our entering on the subject in this place, we reserve it for our "travels in the principalities of the danube," to be hereafter published. [ ] the construction of a canal or a railroad between the don and the volga has long been talked of. peter i. began a canal, but the works were soon abandoned. a new project was laid before the government in , the expense of which was estimated at , , ., but it remains still to be realised. chapter xiii. general remarks on new russia--antipathy between the muscovites and malorossians--foreign colonies--general aspect of the country, cattle, &c.--want of means of communication --river navigation; bridges--character of the minister of finance--history of the steamboat on the dniestr--the board of roads and ways--anecdote. new russia, which we have now traversed in its whole length, from west to east, consists of the three governments of kherson, taurid, and iekaterinoslav. it is bounded on the north by the governments of podolia, kiev, poltava, and kharkov; on the east by the country of the don cossacks, the sea of azov, and the straits of kertch; on the south by the black sea, and on the west by the dniestr, which divides it from bessarabia. its surface may be estimated at square myriamètres. it contains a population of , , , which makes about inhabitants to a square myriamètre. the existing organisation of the three governments dates from the year . their territory was successively annexed to the empire, by the treaty of koutchouk kainardji, the conquest of the crimea, and the convention concluded at jassy, in . the population of these regions is extremely mixed. the malorossians (little russians) formerly known by the appellation of cossacks of the ukraine, form its principal nucleus; then come numerous villages of muscovites (great russians) belonging to the crown and to individuals; colonies of germans, greeks, armenians, jews, and bulgarians; the military establishments of vosnecensk, formed with the cossacks of the boug and fugitives from all the neighbouring nations; and lastly the tatars, who occupy the greater part of the crimea and the western shores of the sea of azov. here are certainly very various and heterogeneous elements; nor can there exist between them any religious or political sympathy. the muscovites and the malorossians are even very hostile to each other, though professing the same creed and subject to the same laws. in spite of all the efforts of the government, and notwithstanding all the muscovite colonies disseminated through the country, no blending of the two races has yet been effected. the old ideas of independence of the cossacks of the ukraine, are very far from being entirely extinguished, and the malorossians, who have not forgotten the liberty and the privileges they enjoyed down to the end of the last century, always bear in mind that serfdom was established amongst them only by an imperial ukase of catherine ii. when the emperor alexander travelled through the crimea, in , it is said that he received more than , petitions from peasants claiming their freedom. two years afterwards an insurrection broke out at martinofka, in the environs of taganrok; but it was speedily put down, and led to nothing but the transportation of some hundreds of unhappy serfs to siberia. as for the foreign colonies established in new russia, the government adapted its regulations at first in strict accordance with their wants. each of them possessed a constitution in harmony with its manners, its usages, and its state of civilisation, and nothing had been neglected that could prompt the development of their prosperity. but within the last few years, the principles of political unity have been gaining the upper hand, and all the government measures are tending to assimilate the foreign populations to the free peasants of the crown. it is with this view that the special administrative committees have been suppressed, and the ministry of the domains of the crown has been created. undoubtedly, as we have already said, when speaking of the german colonies, russia has an incontestible right to strive to render herself homogeneous; the interests of her policy and her nationality require that she should neglect no means of arriving at a uniform administrative system. unfortunately, generalisations are still impossible in the empire. where there are so many conflicting forms of civilisation, the attempt to impose one unvarying system of rule upon so many dissimilar peoples, cannot be unattended with danger, particularly when that system is an exclusive one, and belongs only to one of the least enlightened portions of the population. it is, at this day, quite as impolitic to apply to the german colonists the administrative system practised with the russian peasants, as it would be absurd to govern the latter like the germans. the government would act more wisely if it tried, in the first place, to raise its native subjects to the level of the foreigners, instead of depressing the latter by subjecting them to the same conditions as its , , of serfs. the difficulties would no doubt be great; but obstinately to persist in establishing a forced administrative unity by dint of ukases, is nothing short of ruin to those thriving and industrious foreign colonies, which for more than half a century have done so much for the prosperity of the country, by bringing the soil of southern russia into productive cultivation; and it is well known, that already, several hundred families have abandoned their settlements and returned to germany. the whole of southern russia from the banks of the dniestr to the sea of azov, and to the foot of the mountains of the crimea, consists exclusively of vast plains called steppes, elevated from forty to fifty yards above the level of the sea. the soil is completely bare of forests; it is only in some sheltered localities along the banks of the dniepr and the other rivers, and in their islands, that we find a few woods of oak, birch, aspen, and willow. the inhabitants of the country are obliged to use for firing, reeds, straw, and the dung of cattle kneaded into little masses like bricks. in odessa, they import wood from bessarabia, the crimea, and the banks of the danube; but it costs as much as eighty rubles the fathom. english coal is also consumed, and as the merchant vessels carry it as ballast, its cost is very moderate. within the last few years the native coal from the government of iekaterinoslav and the don country, is also beginning to be used throughout southern russia. the growth of wheat and the rearing of cattle, chiefly merino sheep, are the main sources of wealth in these regions. the best cultivated tracts are, in the first place, those occupied by the german colonies, and next, the environs of podolia and khivia. but the most productive soil is, unquestionably, that of the north-east of the government of iekaterinoslav, where the surface of the country is more varied and better irrigated. unfortunately, the inhabitants have scarcely any markets for their produce. the grand want of this part of the empire is, the means of transport. within the sixty years or thereabouts, during which the russians have been in possession of these regions, they have founded many towns and erected many edifices to accommodate the public functionaries; but they have completely forgotten the most important thing, the thing without which agriculture and trade can make no progress worth speaking of. there are no causeways anywhere; the roads are mere tracks marked out by two ditches a few inches deep, and a line of posts set up from verst to verst to mark the distance. but usually no account is made of the imperial track, and the wheel-ruts vary laterally over a space of half a league and more. with every fall of rain the course of the road is changed. in winter, when snow-storms and fogs prevail, travelling in new russia is beset with serious perils. it is then so easy to wander from the route, that travellers are often in danger of losing themselves in the steppes, and dying of cold. bridges over the streams and rivers are as rare as causeways, and where any exist they are so defective, that drivers always try to avoid them, and so save their vehicles from the chance of being broken. whenever the traveller is suddenly roused up from a sound sleep by a violent shock, he may be certain he is passing over a bridge or a fragment of a causeway. spring and autumn are the seasons when he has most reason to curse the bad management of the board of bridges and roads, for then the roads are impracticable: the smallest gully becomes the bed of a torrent, and communications are often totally interrupted. the consequence is that the transport of goods can only be effected in winter and during four months of summer. nor must we allow ourselves to imagine that sledging is a very safe mode of carriage; the snow-storms cause great disasters, and if the winter be at all rigorous, an enormous number of draught oxen are lost. every one knows what fine rivers nature has bestowed on new russia. the dniestr and the dniepr are two admirable canals, which, after having traversed the central parts of the empire and its most fertile regions, terminate in the black sea. their navigation, if well managed, would certainly compensate largely for the difficulties in the way of constructing roads, and might amply suffice for the wants of the population. but, as we have said in our chapter on the commerce of the black sea, every thing in russia bears deplorable proof of the supineness of the government. it must, however, be owned that it is not to be reproached in every case with want of the will to do better; for recently, upon the enlightened solicitation of count voronzof, it was determined to establish on the donetz, one of the confluents of the don, a steam-tug to take in tow the coal-barges of the government of iekaterinoslav. the two grand obstacles which, in our opinion, impede the accomplishment of useful works in russia, consist in the self-sufficient incapacity of the ministry of finance, and in the peculation of the functionaries. count cancrine[ ] may be an excellent bookkeeper; we grant that he possesses no ordinary talent in matters of account; but we believe, and facts demonstrate it, that his administration has greatly diminished the financial resources of the empire. the man possesses not one enlarged idea, no forecast; he sacrifices every thing to the present moment. every item of expenditure must bring in an immediate profit, or he looks on it as money mis-spent; he can never be brought to understand that all capital expended in promoting agriculture and trade, returns sooner or later to the exchequer with large interest. in , a landowner, deeply interested in the navigation of the liman of the dniestr, after many fruitless efforts, at last succeeded by stratagem in inducing him to establish a small steamer on those waters, in order to facilitate the commercial intercourse between akermann and ovidiopol. the salt works of touzla, situated in the vicinity, were to advance the necessary funds to the directory of the steamer, and although that directory was entirely dependent on the government, it was, nevertheless, obliged to enter into an engagement for the repayment of the small sum advanced, within a specified time. the steamboat was set plying; but whether from mismanagement or from other causes, no profit was realised in the first few years; on the contrary, there was some loss. angry expostulations on the part of the ministry soon followed; and for a while there was an intention of suppressing the new means of communication, though so highly important to both banks. such is the behaviour of the ministry on all industrial or commercial questions. we shall have many other facts of the same kind to mention, when we come to speak of bessarabia and the crimea. now for an anecdote exemplifying the proceedings of the board of roads and ways.[ ] it was proposed by count voronzof in , to have a bridge constructed over a brook that crosses the road from ovidiopol to odessa, and which is twice every year converted into a torrent. the chief engineer of the district having estimated the expense at , rubles, the scheme was discountenanced by the ministry, and the bridge remained unbuilt for four years. in , count voronzof visited bessarabia, and his carriage was near being overturned on the little old bridge by which the brook is crossed. "it is very much to be regretted," said he to m----i, who accompanied him, "that there is not a suitable bridge here; the ministry would not, perhaps, have refused to sanction it, if the engineers had been more moderate in their demands." some days afterwards m----i sent for an italian engineer, and put into his hands a statement of all the measurements on which the government engineers had founded their estimate. the italian asked at first rubles, and finally reduced his demand to . m----i hastened to lay his proposal before count voronzof, who was amazed, and instantly accepted the terms. the bridge was to be forthwith constructed. it was not long before the chief engineer visited m----i, and beset him with reproaches and remonstrances, to which the former replied thus: "my good sir, i have not slandered you, nor do i bear you the least enmity. i wanted a bridge that i might visit my estate without danger. it is not enough to have a steamer on the liman of the dniestr, unless one has also the means of making use of it. your demand for the execution of the works was , rubles; another person, who has no desire to lose by the job, is content to perform it for . i am sorry you think he has asked too little. be that as it may, i shall have the bridge, and that was a thing i had set my mind on. excuse me this once." we see by this, with what difficulty useful improvements are effected in russia. the most earnest and laudable purposes are constantly frustrated by the vices of the administrative system. unhappily there never can be an end to the fatal influence and the tyranny everywhere exercised by the public functionaries, until a radical reform shall have taken place in the social institutions of the empire; but nothing indicates as yet that there is any serious intention of effecting such a system. footnotes: [ ] see appendix, p. . [ ] it is needless to say that our remarks do not apply to all the russian engineers without exception, for we ourselves have known many upright and worthy men amongst them; and these men were the more deserving of esteem, as they always ended by being the victims of their own integrity. appendix to chapter xiii. "count cancrine was the only statesman in russia who possessed some share of learning and general information, though somewhat deficient in the knowledge specially applicable to his own department. he was a very good bookkeeper; but chemistry, mechanics, and technology were quite unknown to him. his sense of duty overbore all feelings of german nationality; he really desired the good of russia, while at the same time he did not neglect his own affairs, for the care of which his post afforded him peculiar facilities. colbert's fortune was made matter of reproach to him; a similar reproach may be fairly made against m. cancrine, even though he leaves to his children the care of expending his wealth. he has amassed a yearly income of , rubles. 'it will all go,' he says, 'my children will take care of that.' "he was the most ardent partisan both of the prohibitive and of the industrial system; and the feverish development he gave to manufactures does not redeem the distress of agriculture to which he denied his solicitude. a true russian would never have fallen into this error, but would have comprehended that russia is pre-eminently an agricultural country. the question of serfdom found this minister's knowledge at fault. his monetary measures were but gropings in the dark, with many an awkward fall, and sometimes a lucky hit. he deserves credit, however, for having opposed the emperor's wasteful profusion, with a perseverance which the tsar called wrongheadedness, though he did not venture to break with him. it was mazarine's merit that he gave colbert to louis xiv. in appointing m. vrontshenko as his successor, count cancrine has rendered a very ill service to russia."--_ivan golovine, russia under nicholas i._ chapter xiv. the different conditions of men in russia--the nobles-- discontent of the old aristocracy--the merchant class-- serfdom. the russian nation is divided into two classes: the aristocracy, who enjoy all the privileges; and the people who bear all the burdens of the state. we must not, however, form to ourselves an idea of the russian nobility at all similar to those we entertain of the aristocracies of germany, or of ante-revolutionary france. in russia, nobility is not exclusively conferred by birth, as in the other countries of europe. there every freeman may become noble by serving the state either in a military or a civil capacity; with this difference only, that the son of a nobleman is advanced one step shortly after he enters the service, whilst the son of a commoner must wait twelve years for his first promotion, unless he have an opportunity of distinguishing himself in the meanwhile. such opportunities indeed are easily found by all who have the inclination and the means to purchase them. the first important modifications in the constitution of the noblesse were anterior to peter the great; and feodor alexievitch, by burning the charters of the aristocracy, made the first attempt towards destroying the distinction which the boyars wanted to establish between the great and the petty nobles. it is a curious fact, that at the accession of the latter monarch to the throne, most offices of state were hereditary in russia, and it was not an uncommon thing to forego the services of a man who would have made an excellent general, merely because his ancestors had not filled that high post, which men of no military talent obtained by right of birth. frequent mention has of late been made of the celebrated phrase, _the boyars have been of opinion and the tzar has ordained_, and it has been made the theme of violent accusations against the usurpation of the muscovite sovereigns. but historical facts demonstrate that the supposed power of the nobility was always illusory, and that the so much vaunted and regretted institution served, in reality, only to relieve the tzars from all personal responsibility. the spirit of resistance, whatever may be said to the contrary, was never a characteristic of the russian nobility. no doubt there have been frequent conspiracies in russia; but they have always been directed against the life of the reigning sovereign, and never in any respect against existing institutions. the facility with which christianity was introduced into the country, affords a striking proof of the blind servility of the russian people. vladimir caused proclamation to be made one day in the town of kiev, that all the inhabitants were to repair next day to the banks of the dniepr and receive baptism; and accordingly at the appointed hour on the morrow, without the least tumult or show of force, all the inhabitants of kiev were christians. the existing institutions of the russian noblesse date from the reign of peter the great. the innovation of that sovereign excited violent dissatisfaction, and the nobles, not yet broken into the yoke they now bear, caused their monarch much serious uneasiness. the means which appeared to peter i. best adapted for cramping the old aristocracy, was to throw open the field of honours to all his subjects who were not serfs. but in order to avoid too rudely shocking established prejudices, he made a difference between nobles and commoners as to the period of service, entitling them respectively to obtain that first step which was to place them both on the same level. having then established the gradations of rank and the conditions of promotion, and desirous of ratifying his institutions by his example, he feigned submission to them in his own person, and passed successively through all the steps of the scale he had appointed. the rank of officer in the military service makes the holder a gentleman in blood, that is, confers hereditary nobility; but in the civil service, this quality is only personal up to the rank of college assessor, which corresponds to that of major. the individual once admitted into the fourteenth or lowest class, becomes noble, and enjoys all the privileges of nobility as much as a count of the empire, with this exception only, that he cannot have slaves of his own before he has attained the grade of college assessor, unless he be noble born. it results from this system that consideration is attached in russia, not to birth, but merely to the grade occupied. as promotion from one rank to another is obtained after a period of service, specified by the statutes, or sooner through private interest, there is no college registrar (fourteenth class) whatever be his parentage, but may aspire to attain precedence over the first families in the empire; and the examples of these elevations are not rare. it must be owned, however, that the old families have more chance of advancement than the others: but they owe this advantage to their wealth rather than to their personal influence. with all the apparent liberality of this scheme of nobility, it has, nevertheless, proved admirably subservient to the policy of the muscovite sovereigns. the old aristocracy has lost every kind of influence, and its great families, most of them resident in moscow, can now only protest by their inaction and their absence from court, against the state of insignificance to which they have been reduced, and from which they have no chance of recovery. had it been necessary for all aspirants to nobility to pass through the wretched condition of the common soldier, it is evident that the empire would not possess one-tenth of its present number of nobles. notwithstanding their abject and servile condition, very few commoners would have the courage to ennoble themselves by undergoing such a novitiate, with the stick hanging over them for many years. but they have the alternative of the civil service, which leads to the same result by a less thorny path, and offers even comparatively many more advantages to them than to the nobles by blood. whereas the latter, on entering the military service, only appear for a brief while for form's sake in the ranks, become non-commissioned officers immediately, and officers in a few months; they are compelled in the civil service to act for two or three years as supernumeraries in some public office before being promoted to the first grade. it is true, the preliminary term of service is fixed for commoners at twelve years, but we have already spoken of the facilities they possess for abridging this apprenticeship. but this excessive facility for obtaining the privileges of nobility has given rise to a subaltern aristocracy, the most insupportable and oppressive imaginable; and has enormously multiplied the number of _employés_ in the various departments. every russian, not a serf, takes service as a matter of course, were it only to obtain rank in the fourteenth class; for otherwise he would fall back almost into the condition of the slaves, would be virtually unprotected, and would be exposed to the continual vexations of the nobility and the public functionaries. hence, many individuals gladly accept a salary of sixty francs a year, for the permission of acting as clerks in some department; and so it comes to pass that the subaltern _employés_ are obliged to rob for the means of subsistence. this is one of the chief causes of the venality and of the defective condition of the russian administrative departments. peter the great's regulations were excellent no doubt in the beginning, and hardly could that sovereign have devised a more efficacious means of mastering the nobility, and prostrating them at his feet. but now that the intended result has been amply obtained, these institutions require to be modified; for, under the greatly altered circumstances of the country, they only serve to augment beyond measure the numbers of a pernicious bureaucracy, and to impede the development of the middle class. to obtain admission into the fourteenth class, and become a noble, is the sole ambition of a priest's or merchant's son, an ambition fully justified by the unhappy condition of all but the privileged orders. there is no country in which persons engaged in trade are held in lower esteem than in russia. they are daily subjected to the insults of the lowest clerks, and it is only by dint of bribery they can obtain the smallest act of justice. how often have i seen in the post stations, unfortunate merchants, who had been waiting for forty-eight hours and more, for the good pleasure of the clerk, without daring to complain. it mattered nothing that their papers were quite regular, the noble of the fourteenth class did not care for that, nor would he give them horses until he had squeezed a good sum out of the _particularnii tchelovieks_, as he called them in his aristocratic pride. the same annoyances await the foreigner, who, on the strength of his passport, undertakes a journey without a decoration at his buttonhole, or any title to give him importance. i speak from experience: for more than two years spent in traversing russia as a private individual, enabled me fully to appreciate the obliging disposition of the fourteenth class nobles. at a later period, being employed on a scientific mission by the government, i held successively the rank of major, lieutenant-colonel, and colonel; and then i had nothing to complain of; the posting-clerks, and the other _employés_ received me with all the politeness imaginable. i never had to wait for horses, and as the title with which i was decked authorised me to distribute a few cuts of the whip with impunity, my orders were fulfilled with quite magical promptitude. under such a system, the aristocracy would increase without end in a free country. but it is not so in russia, where the number of those who can arrive at a grade is extremely limited, the vast majority of the population being slaves. thus the hereditary and personal nobility comprise no more than , males; though all free-born russians enter the military or civil service, and remain at their posts as long as possible; for once they have returned into private life they sink into mere oblivion. from the moment he has put on plain clothes, the most deserving functionary is exposed to the vexations of the lowest subalterns, who then omit no opportunity of lording over their former superior. such social institutions have fatally contributed to excite a most decided antipathy between the old and the new aristocracy; and the emperor naturally accords his preference and his favours to those who owe him every thing, and from whom he has nothing to fear. in this way the new nobles have insensibly supplanted the old boyars. but their places and pecuniary gains naturally attach them to the established government, and consequently they are quite devoid of all revolutionary tendencies. equally disliked by the old aristocracy whom they have supplanted, and by the peasants whom they oppress, they are, moreover, too few in numbers to be able to act by themselves; and, in addition to this, the high importance attached to the distinctions of rank, prevent all real union or sympathy between the members of this branch of russian society. the tzar, who perfectly understands the character of this body, is fully aware of its venality and corruption; and if he honours it with his special favour, this is only because he finds in it a more absolute and blind submission than in the old aristocracy, whose ambitious yearnings after their ancient prerogatives cannot but be at variance with the imperial will. as for any revolutions which could possibly arise out of the discontent of this latter order, we may be assured they will never be directed against the political and moral system of the country; they will always be, as they have always been, aimed solely against the individual at the head of the government. conspiracies of this kind are the only ones now possible in russia; and what proves this fact is, the impotence of that resentment the tzars have provoked on the part of the old aristocracy, whenever they have touched on the question of emancipating the serfs. the tzars have shown no less dexterity than the kings of france in their struggles against the aristocracy, and they have been much more favoured by circumstances. we see the russian sovereigns bent, like louis xi., on prostrating the great feudatories of the realm; but there was this difference between their respective tasks, that the french nobles could bring armies into the field, and often did so, whereas the russian nobles can only counteract the power of their ruler by secret conspiracies, and will never succeed in stirring up their peasants against the imperial authority. what may we conclude are the destinies in store for the russian nobility, and what part will it play in the future history of the country? it seems to us to possess little inherent vigour and vitality, and we doubt that a radical regeneration of the empire is ever to be expected at its hands. the influence of europe has been fatal to it. it has sought to assimilate itself too rapidly with our modern civilisation, and to place itself too suddenly on a level with the nations of the west. its efforts have necessarily produced only corruption and demoralisation, which, by bastardising the country, have deprived it of whatever natural strength it once possessed. no doubt there are in russia as elsewhere, men of noble and patriotic sentiments, who feel a lively interest in the greatness and the future destinies of their native land; but they are, perhaps, committed to an erroneous course; and it is to be feared that by adopting our liberal principles in their full extent, and seeking to apply them at home, they will do still more mischief than the obstinate conservatives who suffer themselves to be borne along passively by the current of time and circumstances. hence, after having studied the influence of european civilisation on russia, we are fully prepared to understand the efforts which the emperor nicholas is making to isolate his empire as much as possible, and to restore its primitive nationality. despairing of the destinies of his aristocracy, he, no doubt, wishes to preserve the middle class (whose development will infallibly be effected sooner or later) from the rock on which the former class have made shipwreck of their hopes. and certainly it is not among a few thousand nobles he can hope to find sufficient elements of greatness and prosperity for the present and for future times. after the nobles come the merchants and burghers, about a million and a half in number, and now constituting the first nucleus of a middle class. they are wholly engrossed with commerce and their pecuniary interests. among them there are some very wealthy men, and they are allowed to discharge the inoffensive functions of mayors in the towns. the nobility profess almost as much contempt for this class as for the slaves, and are not sparing towards it of injustice and extortion. but the russian merchant is the calmest and most patient being imaginable, and in comparison with slavery and the sad condition of the soldier, he regards his own lot as the very ideal of good fortune. down to the reign of ivan iv., merchants enjoyed tolerably extensive privileges in russia. they were, it is true, placed below the lowest class of the nobility, just as in our days; but they were considered as a constituent part of the government, were summoned to the great assemblies of the nation, and voted in them like the boyars. the emperor nicholas has sought of late years to raise their body in public estimation, by granting them many prerogatives of nobility; but his efforts have hitherto not been very successful. the only means of giving outward respectability to this important class, would be to afford it admission into the body of the nobles without compelling it to enter the government service. and surely an individual who contributes to develop the trade and commerce of the land, has as strong claims to honorary distinctions as a petty clerk, whose whole life is passed in cheating his superiors, and robbing those who are so unfortunate as to have any dealings with him. should the emperor ever adopt such a course, there would follow from it another advantage still more important, namely, that it would gradually extinguish the abuses of the present nobiliary system, and would immediately rid the public departments of all those useless underlings, who now encumber the various offices solely with a view to acquire a footing among the privileged orders. the russian and foreign merchants, established in the country, are divided into three classes, or guilds. those of the first guild must give proof of possessing a capital of , rubles. they have a right to own manufactories, town and country houses, and gardens. they may trade with the interior of the empire, and with foreign countries; they are exempt from corporal punishments, and are privileged like the hereditary nobility to drive four horses in their carriages; but they must pay rubles for their licence. those of the second guild are required to prove only a capital of , rubles, and their trade is confined to the interior of the empire. they may be proprietors of factories, hotels and boats; but they are not allowed to have more than two horses to their carriages. the third guild merchants, whose capital needs not exceed rubles, are the retail dealers of the towns and villages, they keep inns and workshops, and hold booths in the fairs. the peasants who engage in trade, are not required to prove any capital. the statistics of these several classes, in , were as follows:-- first guild merchants second " , third " , peasants having permission to trade , clerks , ------ total , the slaves form by far the most considerable part of the population; their numbers, exclusive of those belonging to the crown and to private proprietors, exceed , , ; an enormous amount in comparison with the numbers of the nobles. we will not enter into any historical details respecting the origin of serfdom in russia; every one knows that the institution is one of somewhat modern date, and that servitude, though long existing virtually, was established legally in the empire only by an ukase of boris godounof. we will confine our remarks to the institution as it exists at the present day. the slaves are divided into two classes, those belonging respectively to the crown, and to private individuals. the former are under the control of the ministry of the domains of the crown, a special board created january st, , and presided over by general count kizelev. by law they are required to pay to the crown a capitation tax of fifteen rubles yearly for every male, but this tax is almost always raised to thirty or thirty-five rubles by the rapacity of the government servants. besides these money contributions, they are subjected to _corvées_ for the repair of the roads and public works, and they may also be required to furnish means of conveyance and food for the troops. for these latter services, it is true, they receive a nominal compensation in the shape of orders payable by treasury, but these are never cashed. lastly, they are liable to military recruitment, which of late years has annually taken off six out of every male inhabitants in the governments of new russia. in exchange for all these burdens, the peasant receives from the crown the land necessary for his subsistence, the quantity of which varies from ten or eleven deciatines, to one or two, according to the density of the population. whatever may have been said on the subject, the condition of the crown serf is neither miserable nor destitute, and his slavery cannot but be favourable to physical and animal life, the only life as yet understood by the bulk of the russian people. except in years of great dearth, such as often desolate the country, the peasant has his means of existence secured; his dwelling, his cattle, and his little field of buckwheat; and as far as freedom from moral and physical sufferings constitute happiness, he may be considered much better off than the free peasants of the other european states. with plenty of food, his dwelling well warmed in winter, his mind disencumbered of all those anxieties for the future that harass our labouring poor; and endowed by nature with a vigorous constitution, he possesses all the elements of that negative happiness which is founded on ignorance and the want of all awakened sense of man's dignity. the slave besides is so frugal, he needs so little to live, his wants and desires are so circumscribed, that poverty, as it exists in our civilised lands, is one of the rarest exceptions in russia. but all these conditions of existence constitute a life essentially brutish; and the most wretched being in france would certainly not exchange his lot for that of the muscovite peasant. it cannot, however, be questioned that the crown serfs enjoy almost complete liberty. simply attached to the soil, they are masters of their own time, and may even obtain permission to go and seek employment in the towns, or on the estates of private landowners. hence, were it not for the difficulties connected with the emancipation of the private serfs, the crown peasants might be declared independent to-morrow, without any sort of danger to the empire. their physical condition is in perfect harmony with the present state of civilisation, and in this respect the system established by the crown, does not deserve the outcry raised against it. the penury and distress in which the imperial serfs are plunged in some districts, are ascribable solely to the cupidity and corruption of the public functionaries, or to the want of outlets for the produce of the soil, and not to the laws regulating serfdom. the condition of the slaves on seignorial lands is both morally and physically less satisfactory than that of the crown serfs. they are subject to arbitrary caprice, and to countless vexations, particularly when they belong to small proprietors, or are immediately dependant on stewards. there exist, indeed, very strict regulations for their protection against the undue exactions of their lords; but the latter are, nevertheless, all-powerful through their social position and the posts they fill, and however they may abuse their authority, they are always sure of impunity. thanks to judicial venality, they know that all appeals to justice against them are futile. there is only one case in which the peasant can hope for a favourable hearing, namely, where there is any ill-will between his master and the higher powers; but his wrongs must be very cruel indeed if they goad him to seek legal redress, for he well knows that sooner or later he will be made to pay dearly for his rebellion. we are bound, however, to acknowledge that the lords often act with the greatest humanity towards the serfs, and they have at last come to understand that in caring for the welfare of their peasants, they are taking the best means to augment their own fortunes. it is only to be regretted that their benevolent efforts are almost constantly paralysed by the rapine and insatiable cupidity of their stewards and agents. the private slaves, who number about , , , pay a poll tax of eight rubles for every male to the crown, and must give half their time to their masters. they usually work three days in the week for the latter, and the other three for themselves. their lord grants them five or six hectares of land, and often more, and all the produce they raise from them is their own. they are required furthermore to supply out of their numbers all the domestic servants requisite for their master's establishment, and to do extra duty labour of various kinds, dependent solely on the caprice of the latter. a peasant cannot quit his village without his master's permission, and if he exercises any handicraft trade whatever, he is bound to pay an annual sum proportioned to his presumed profits. this sum is called his _obrok_, and is often very considerable; in the case of agricultural and other peasants, it averages fifty rubles. but whatever be the position the serf may have attained to by his talents and his skill, he never shakes off his absolute dependence on his master, one word from whom may compel him to abandon all his business and his prospects, and return to his village. many of the wealthiest merchants of moscow have been named to me, who are slaves by birth, and who have in vain offered hundreds of thousands of rubles for their freedom. it flatters the pride of the great patrician families to have men of merit among their serfs, and many of them send young slaves into the towns, and supply them with all the means necessary for pursuing a creditable and lucrative calling. all the hawkers and pedlars that go from village to village, and from mansion to mansion, from the banks of the neva to the extremity of siberia, are slaves, who bring in large profits to their masters; it frequently happens that a _pometchik_ has no other income than that which he thus derives from his peasants. marriages between serfs can only take place with the consent of the lord. they are usually consummated at a very early age, and are arranged by the steward, who never consults the parties, and whose sole object is to effect a rapid increase in the population of his village. the average price of a whole family is estimated as ranging from _l._ to _l._ a great deal has been often said of the boundless attachment of the serfs to their lords; i doubt that it ever existed; at any rate, it exists no longer. the slaves no longer regard with the same resignation and apathy the low estate which providence has assigned them in this world; the more liberal treatment enjoyed by the imperial serfs, has inoculated them with ideas of independence, and they are all now ambitious of passing into the domain of the crown--a good fortune, which in their eyes is equivalent to emancipation. this tendency of the serfs to detach themselves from the aristocracy is a most important fact, and if the emperor succeeds in regulating this great social movement so that it may be effected without turbulence, he will have rendered a signal service to russia, and have mightily contributed to the regeneration and future welfare of her people. every village has its mayor, called _golova_, and its _starosts_, whose number depends on that of the population, there being usually one for every ten families. they are all elected by the community, and to them it belongs to regulate the various labours performed by it, and to apportion and collect the taxes. whatever petty differences may arise between the peasants, are settled before the _starosts_ or council of elders, whose decisions are always received with blind submission. military service is the only _corvée_ which the russian peasants regard with real horror. their antipathy to it is universal, and the regiments can only be recruited by main force. there is no conscription in russia, but whenever men are wanted, an imperial ukase is issued, commanding a certain number to be raised in such or such a government. in the crown lands, it is the head man of the village aided by the district authorities, who selects the future heroes, and this is usually done in secret, in order to prevent desertion. the young men chosen are forthwith arrested, generally in the middle of the night, and remain fettered until they have been inspected by the surgeon, after which they are sent off in small detachments to the regiments, under the guard of armed soldiers. in the seignorial villages, the selection is made by the steward. but the business is here of more difficult execution than in the domains of the crown, and the unfortunate recruit is often chained to an aged peasant, who acts as his keeper, and cannot quit him day or night. i saw two young peasants thus chained to two old men, in a village belonging to general papof; they spent their time quietly in drinking in the dram-shops, without exciting any surprise in the spectators. when we reflect on the privations and sufferings that await the muscovite soldier, we cannot wonder at the intense repugnance the peasants entertain for the service. the military spirit, so potent elsewhere, scarcely exists in the empire. glory and honour are things for which the russian serfs care very little, nor have they any conception of the magic that lies in the words "our country," "our native land." the only country they know is their village, their stove, their _kasha_, the patch of ground they daily cultivate, and that mud which a french grenadier lifted up with his foot, exclaiming, "and this they call a country!" "_ils appellent cela une patrie!_" at the same time, it is evident that this antipathy of the russians for military service, is to be attributed as much to the political constitution of the empire, as to the character of the inhabitants; and as that constitution has hitherto been a national necessity, it would be unjust to charge as a crime upon the government, the unhappy moral condition of its armies. we shall speak at more length in another place, on the subject of the russian soldiery. moral and intellectual instruction have hitherto made very little way among the slave population. attempts indeed have been made to found schools in some of the crown villages, but these attempts have been always ill-directed, and necessarily unsuccessful. religion which everywhere else constitutes the most potent instrument of civilisation, can have in russia no favourable effect on the improvement of the people. consisting solely in fasts, crossings, and outward ceremonies, it leaves the mind totally uninfluenced, and in no respect acts as a bar to the demoralisation which is gradually pervading the immense class of the serfs. the peculiar circumstances of the russian towns and villages are also perhaps among the greatest obstacles to intellectual progress. the advance of civilisation depends in a great measure on facility of intercourse. when a population is compact, and its several members are continually in presence of each other, each man's knowledge is propagated among his compatriots, facts and opinions are discussed, and men become mutually enlightened as to what is thought and done around them. from this continual interchange of mental wealth, there naturally arises an amount of enlightenment and capacity that tends greatly to extend the domain of thought. but let any one cast his eyes on russia, and he will be struck by the unfavourable manner in which its population is distributed. not only are the great centres of population very thinly scattered over the surface, but the several dwellings too in the towns are placed very wide apart, and those of the villages still more so. every man is isolated, every man lives by and for himself, or at least within a very contracted sphere. social meetings are rare, and in winter almost impossible; in a word, it is not at all unusual for people not to know their neighbours on the opposite side of the street; hence the invariable _nesnai_ (i do not know) with which the russian replies to every question the traveller puts to him, ought not to astonish or incense the latter. at first i was disposed to think this ignorance was pretended, and to attribute it to sulkiness and indolence; but i afterwards perceived that it was occasioned in much greater measure by the absurd style of building adopted in the country. another thing that tends to enervate the russians and keep them in their brutified condition, is the immoderate use of brandy, to which both men and women are addicted. it is truly deplorable that the government feels constrained to favour the sale of that pernicious liquor which forms its most important source of revenue. how often have i seen the dram-shops full of women dead drunk, who had left their poultry yards tenantless, and sold their household furniture to gratify their fatal passion. a thing by which i have always been much struck in russia, is the stationary uniformity which prevails over the whole surface of the empire, both in ideas and in physical productions. you see everywhere the same plans and arrangements of the buildings, the same implements, and the same agricultural practices and modes of carriage. contact with foreigners has as yet had no influence on the sclavonic population, and the prosperity generally enjoyed for sixty years by the german colonies has done little in the way of example. is this intellectual insensibility the result of servitude exclusively? i think not. servitude may indeed repress, but it cannot extinguish, the various qualities with which nature has endowed us; and if the russians are still so backward, and give so little promise of improvement, we must explain the fact by the nature of their race, by their still infant state as a nation, and their want of precedents in civilisation. at the same time there is no reason to despair of them. in our opinion, the future civilisation of russia rests in a great measure on the contingency of a religious reformation; but as that reformation could not but be hazardous to absolute power by awakening ideas of independence and resistance to oppression, the government impedes it by every means in its power, and labours unceasingly to reduce all the inhabitants of the empire to religious uniformity, as is proved by its conduct towards the united greeks of poland, and towards the douckoboren and the molokaner. i had opportunities of observing among the members of the two latter communities, how great an influence a change of religion may have on the character and intellect of the russians. the douckoboren and the molokaner differ essentially in this respect from the other subjects of the empire. activity, probity, intelligence, desire of improvement, all these qualities are developed among them to the highest degree, and after having consorted with the germans for fifteen years, they have completely appropriated all the agricultural ameliorations, and even the social habits of those foreign colonists. among the russian peasants on the contrary, whether slave or free, a complete immobility prevails, and nothing can force them out of the old inevitable rut. all the efforts and all the encouragements of the government have hitherto been of no avail. the emancipation of the slaves seems earnestly to occupy the emperor nicholas; and the measures adopted of late years testify in favour of his generous intentions. unfortunately, the task is beset with difficulties for the legislator, and an abrupt attempt to make the russian people independent, would infallibly expose the empire to the greatest dangers. there are in the russian slave two natures, essentially distinct: the one, destitute of all energy, of all vitality, is the result of the servitude under which the nation has bent for ages; the other, a bequest of barbarism, starting into action at the breath of liberty, is prompt to the most alarming excesses, and inspires the revolted serf with the desire, above all things, to massacre his master. emancipation, therefore, is not so easy as certain philanthropists would believe it to be, and the details we have just given may enable one to conceive all the mischiefs that might ensue from it. the greatest obstacle to this social metamorphosis is presented by the private slaves, the majority of whom belong to the hereditary aristocracy; it is especially on the part of this class that premature liberty might occasion fatal and bloody reactions, which would endanger the empire itself, though immediately directed against the lords only. accordingly the tzar, who is not ignorant of these facts, does all in his power to withdraw the serfs from their proprietors, and bring them into the crown domain: hence the position of the serfs has been considerably altered within the last few years. slaves can now no longer be purchased without the lands to which they are attached. formerly owners often hired out their slaves: they can now only grant them passports for three years, and the serf himself chooses the master he will serve, and the kind of labour to which he will apply himself. it was evidently with a view to the same end that a bank was created some years ago in st. petersburg, for the purpose of rendering pecuniary assistance to the aristocracy. every proprietor can borrow from the bank at eight per cent., on a mortgage of his lands. but by the rules of the institution, when the term of payment is past, the property of a defaulting creditor may be immediately sequestrated to the crown. what the government foresaw has happened, and does happen daily, and it has acquired numerous private estates, and incorporated them with the imperial domains. a new ukase respecting the emancipation of the slaves which was issued in , fixed the relative position of freedmen and their former lords. the measure was shaped so as to give the government a direct influence conducive to the gradual emancipation of the population. the owners were left, as before, the power of emancipating their serfs; but by the terms of the ukase, they could only do so in accordance with certain rules, and with the express sanction of the emperor. this ukase excited so much dissatisfaction among the old _noblesse_, that the tzar was induced subsequently to neutralise its effect by a police enactment. the primary end was, nevertheless, obtained, and the ukase dealt a heavy blow to the subsisting relations between lord and serf.[ ] we believe, nevertheless, that the course adopted by the emperor nicholas (by the advice, no doubt, of count kizilev) is erroneous, and that the last ukases are impolitic. do what it will, the government will never succeed in liberating the private slaves without the co-operation of their owners. it is impossible to think of making all the peasants exclusively serfs of the crown; such a means of emancipation is impracticable, for it implies that the government should remain, in the last result, sole possessor of all the lands in the empire, and that the nobility, great and small, should be infallibly ruined. in our opinion, the last ukases have only served to make emancipation more difficult, by exciting hatred between masters and slaves, and fostering the germs of a dangerous rebellious spirit. the russians are still so backward in civilisation, that ideas of independence, abruptly and incautiously introduced amongst them, would be very likely to cause disastrous convulsions. liberty must reach them gradually; and above all, it is absolutely necessary that they should be prepared, by instruction, to exchange their slavery for a better state of things. otherwise, with their present character, liberty, after being first summed up by them in the privilege of doing nothing, in pillage and massacre, would inevitably end in wretchedness and destitution. in the treatment of this great social question, it is before all things necessary that the government should come to a fair understanding with the nobles, and labour conjointly with them for the regeneration of the slave population: it is only by earnest mutual aid that those two powers will ever succeed in advancing the cause of emancipation without imminent peril to the empire. but in any case, there is no denying the many difficulties of this enterprise, no answering for all future contingencies. considerations connected with landed property will probably long defeat all efforts in this direction, unless the peasants be freely permitted to become landowners, on payment of a certain sum for the redemption of their persons, and the purchase of the land requisite for their subsistence. this seems to us the only rational, nay, the only possible means, of arriving at complete emancipation without violence. no doubt if such a privilege be granted to the peasants, the present improvident and prodigal race of nobles will be rapidly dispossessed; but this will not occasion the country any serious inconvenience, and the new order of things will but favour the development of the middle class, in which really reside, in our day, all the strength and prosperity of a nation. as for the clergy, whose numbers amount to about , , both males and females, we mention them here only to repeat our declaration of their nullity and immorality. utterly unacquainted with any thing pertaining to polity and administration, having nothing to do with public instruction, and being in their own persons ignorant to excess, the priests enjoy no sort of influence or consideration, and are occupied solely with corporeal things. we will not enter further into this subject. we are loath to unveil completely the vices and ignoble habits that distinguish the priests of the orthodox russian church. the following is a general table of the russian population as published by the ministry in : _clergy._ | males. | females. | | orthodox greek clergy of all grades, | | including the families of ecclesiastics | , | , united greek | , | , catholic | , | armenian | | lutheran | , | reformed | | mahommedan mollahs | , | , [a] buddhist lamas | [b]| | | _nobility._ | | | | hereditary nobles | , | , personal nobles, including the children | | of officers | , | , subaltern functionaries, retired soldiers, | | and their families | , | , | | _populations bound to military_ | | _service in time of war._ | | | | cossacks of the don, the black sea, the | | caucasus, astrakhan, azov, and the | | danube, orenburg and the ural, and of | | siberia, bashkirs, and mestcheriaks | , | , | | _inhabiting towns, or included_ | | _in the municipalities._ | | | | merchants of the three guilds, including | | notable _bourgeois_. | , | , bourgeois and artisans | , , | , , bourgeois in the towns of the | | western provinces | , | , greeks of nejine, armourers of toula, | | apprentices in the pharmacies, and | | others, brokers in the towns, and | | functionaries in the service of the | | municipalities | , | , inhabitants of the towns of bessarabia | , | , | | _inhabiting the rural districts._ | | | | serfs of the crown and the apanages | , , | , , serfs of the seignorial lands | , , | , , | | _nomade races, such as_ | | | | kalmucks, khirghis, turkmans, tatars | , | , inhabitants of the transcaucasian provinces | , | , kingdom of poland | , , | , , grand duchy of finland | , | , russian colonies in america | , | , +-------------+---------- total | , , | , , [a: these figures are evidently misplaced. ought they to stand for catholic nuns?--_translator._] [b: this number is quite erroneous, for we ourselves found several hundred priests among the kalmucks of the volga. the encampment of prince tumene, which we visited, alone possesses more than .] soldiers and sailors in actual service, their wives and families, not having been included in this total, the gross amount of the population of the empire appears to be about , , ,--at least if we may judge from the ministerial table, the correctness of which we by no means guarantee. according to the report of the ministry of the interior, the part of the population of european russia not belonging to the orthodox greek church, was, in , as follows: catholics , , gregorian armenians , catholic armenians , protestants , , mohammedans , , jews , , buddhists , --------- total , , footnotes: [ ] we have not the honour of being acquainted with the emperor of russia's secret thoughts, and we willingly ascribe to a certain liberalism all the ukases concerning the emancipation of the slaves; it is possible, however, that the tzar's measures may have been prompted, in a great degree, by the fears with which he regards an aristocracy still possessing more than , , of slaves. chapter xiv. constitution of the empire; governments--consequences of centralisation; dissimulation of public functionaries-- tribunals--the colonel of the gendarmerie--corruption-- pedantry of forms--contempt of the decrees of the emperor and the senate--singular anecdote; interpretation of a will --radical evils in the judicial organisation--history and present state of russian law. the existing division of the russian empire into fifty-six governments dates from the reign of the emperor paul. a nearly similar organisation existed indeed in the time of catherine ii., but the functions of the governors had a much wider range at that period than in our days, and those administrators, called by the empress her stewards, enjoyed nearly sovereign power. the russian governments correspond to the french departments, the districts to sub-prefectures; each government has its chief town, which is the seat of the different civil and military administrations. the governor, who has the exclusive charge of the civil administration, nominates to various secondary places, is the head of the college of _prévoyance_, and ex-officio inspector of the schools, can demand an account of their proceedings of all the provincial authorities except the high court, and determines administrative questions with the aid of a council of regency composed of two councillors and a secretary, nominated by the emperor. at first sight the governor's power seems unlimited; and indeed he has all the authority requisite to do mischief, but very little to do good. in russia the most laudable intentions and the most brilliant capabilities are completely paralysed, and the chief administrators must, whether they will or not, undergo the disastrous consequences of the venality and corruption of their subordinates. distrust and suspicion have been made the essential basis of the organisation of the bureaucracy. by surrounding the high functionaries with a multitude of _employés_, and subjecting them to countless formalities, it was thought the abuses of power would be hindered; and all that is come of it is the creation of an odious class, who use the weapons put into their hands to cheat the government, rob individuals, and prevent honest men from labouring for the prosperity of their country. the governors have not even the right of inquest in judicial questions, and the judges may, by entrenching themselves behind the text of the rules, pronounce the most iniquitous sentences with impunity. i have known some true-hearted and generous administrators, but all after struggling for long years to arrive at some sage reforms, at last gave up their efforts in despair, and most of them fell into disgrace through the multiplied intrigues of their subordinates. in each chief town it is the secretary, the head of the chancery, who is the real wielder of the power of government. he alone is regarded as knowing the text of the russian laws; so that, in order to oppose any measure of the governor's, he has but to cite a few phrases, more or less obscure, from the code of regulations, and it very rarely happens that his principal ventures, without his approbation, to take on himself the responsibility of any administrative act. there have been instances in which governors, disregarding bureaucratic formalities, and acting for themselves, have impeded the execution of a decree of the tribunals; but they have never failed to expiate their audacity by dismissal, unless they were supported by a high social position and potent protectors. furthermore, the representatives of government are so cramped in their powers, that a governor-general, who often rules over several millions of men, cannot dispose of _l._ without the sanction of the ministry. centralisation, no doubt, has its advantages; but in a country so vast, and of such varied wants as russia, it is impossible that a minister, be his talents what they may, can ever satisfy the reasonable demands of all parts of the empire. the consequence is that the most useful projects are almost always neglected or rejected in the provinces remote from the capital. another evil, not less deplorable, is the necessity of practising mutual deception, under which the public functionaries labour. a public servant never thinks of making known to his superior the real situation of the country he governs: either he ridiculously exaggerates the good, or he is absolutely silent as to what is bad. in the latter case, he acts only in accordance with the imperative dictates of prudence, for if he declared the truth he would infallibly incur disgrace, and would even run the risk of being dismissed. so whenever a public calamity happens, it is only at the last extremity, and when the mischief is become irremediable, that he makes up his mind to call for an aid that usually comes not at all, or else is sure to come too late. this profound dissimulation, joined with the jealousy which the distinctions of rank excite among the _employés_, does incalculable damage to the empire by impeding every useful reform. however, of all the sovereigns of the empire, the tzar nicholas is, perhaps, the one to whom truth and plain dealing are most welcome, and with whom well-grounded censure finds most acceptance. unfortunately, since potemkin's mystifications, falsehood has become a normal thing with the russian _employés_, and the basis of all their proceedings, and hitherto the imperial will has been incapable of eradicating this fatal evil. the superior court of justice sitting in the chief place of each government, and comprising a civil and a criminal section, consists of two presidents, two councillors, two secretaries, and eight assessors, four of whom are burghers. the emperor endeavoured in to extend the rights of the nobility, by making the offices of president and judge in these tribunals elective, but this change appears to have produced but very unfavourable results. as all the great proprietors had very little inclination to fill such offices, the electors had no opportunity of making a good choice, and at last it was found necessary to return to the old institutions. the superior court of justice decides finally in all civil cases, in which the sum in dispute does not exceed rubles. over it are the various departments of the senate and the general assembly, resident partly in st. petersburg, and partly in moscow, and constituting two courts to which appeals lie from the governmental courts. there is no appeal from the decisions of the general assembly of the senate, or from those of the council of the empire approved by the emperor, except on the ground of misrepresentations in the evidence. in the district courts (corresponding to the french _tribunaux de première instance_) there are also two sections, civil and criminal, consisting each of a president, a secretary, having under him several _employés_ who constitute the chancery, and four assessors, two of whom are chosen from among the inhabitants of the rural district. these latter sit only in cases where peasants are concerned. there is likewise in each governmental chief town, and in each district town, an inferior court, specially charged with the affairs of the rural police, the taking of informations in criminal affairs, summary jurisdiction as to minor offences, and the execution of sentences. this court consists of a president, called _ispravnik_, and four assessors, two of them nobles, two peasants. these judges, who are all elected by the nobles, are assisted by a secretary, the only _employé_ directly dependent on the government. the chief towns and the district towns have also a sort of municipal council, consisting of a mayor (_golova_), and four assistants, elected by the municipality, and afterwards approved of by the government. this council acts also as a tribunal, and takes cognizance of all the petty cases of litigation that may arise among the townsfolk. a nearly similar institution exists among the peasants of the empire. we will not speak of the colleges of wards, the committees of the nobles presided over by the marshals of the nobles, the courts of conscience which try cases between parents and children, &c. the members of all these institutions are elected, but their functions are too insignificant to demand mention here. one of the most influential personages in each government, is the colonel of the gendarmerie, who is completely independent of the governor. he is the head of the secret police, corresponds directly with the minister, and has it in his power, if he is an honest man, to do much good by the rigorous control he can exercise over all the _employés_ of a province. this justiciary scheme is in itself very liberal, and ought, one would suppose, to satisfy the wants of the population; but like the governors, the judges of the different tribunals are in fact but puppets, moved at the discretion of the subordinate clerks, who alone are masters of the tricks and quibbles of russian jurisprudence, and legal practice. the lowest clerk in a chancery has often more influence than the president himself, and the suitor who refuses to be squeezed by him may be quite certain that he will never see the termination of his cause. it is impossible to imagine with what adroitness all these fellows, many of whom receive for salary only sixty or a hundred rubles a year, manage to sweat the purses of those who require their assistance. justice is continually violated in favour of the highest bidder, and thanks to the number of contradictory ukases which pass for laws, the most audacious robberies are unblushingly committed without the possibility of redress. it may be asserted with truth, that the jurisdictional authority in russia resides in the offices of court rather than in the persons of the judges. the secretary is the omnipotent arbiter of sentences, and dictates them under the influence of money and the bureaucracy. nothing can give an idea of the arts of knavery and chicane put in practice to fleece the unfortunates who have to do with the underlings of justice. the rigorous stickling for forms, and the multitude of papers, are a curse to the country; no business is done by word of mouth in russia.[ ] all law proceedings are carried on in writing; the slightest question and the most trivial explanation must be put down on stamped paper according to the appointed forms. hence it may be conceived that with the horrible spirit of chicanery that characterises the _employés_, and the readiness with which they can find a flaw (a _krutchuk_ as they call it), in every paper, legal proceedings are spun out to an indefinite length, and scarcely end until both parties are ruined, or until the one prevails over the other by dint of money and corruption. i have often known a document to be sent back from st. petersburg after a lapse of six months, merely because this or that phrase was not written according to rule. the government of bessarabia alone paid , _l._ for stamps, in the course of four years, and the population of that province does not exceed , . the want of publicity, moreover, has the most pernicious influence on the administration of justice. all judgments are made up in secret; there are no open pleadings; law processes consist from first to last in piles of paper, which enrich the judges and their subordinates, but in no-wise affect their opinions, which are always based on the most advantageous offers. this woful state of things is further aggravated by the fact that the judges are secure from all responsibility; in whatever manner they decide a cause, they always do so in accordance with the laws, provided they observe the due forms; but what is really incredible, is the impudence with which the lowest tribunal of a district town presumes to annul both the decrees of the emperor and those of the general assembly of the senate. i will mention in illustration a certain suit brought against the heirs of a rich landowner in podolia, who was deeply indebted at his death to the imperial bank of st. petersburg and to several foreign bankers. these latter having become creditors before the bank, naturally claimed to be paid in the first instance. the consequence was a suit, which had been going on for twelve years when i arrived in russia. the foreigners were defeated in the district court, but they gained their cause successively in the governmental court and the general assembly of the senate, and finally they obtained a decree in their favour from the emperor himself; but the district tribunal, under pretext that certain regulations had been violated, took upon itself to annul all the decisions of the senate, and to make the whole suit be begun over again. it sometimes happens, however, that the imperial will is declared in so positive a manner, that all the tricks and subterfuges of judges and secretaries must give way to it. here is an anecdote that conveys a perfect notion of what law means in russia. in alexander's reign the jesuits had made themselves all-powerful in some parts of poland. a rich landowner and possessor of peasants at poltzk, the jesuit head-quarters, was so wrought on by the artful assiduities of the society that he bequeathed his whole fortune to it at his death, with this stipulation, that the jesuits should bring up his only son, and afterwards give him whatever portion of the inheritance _they should choose_. when the young man had reached the age of twenty, the jesuits bestowed on him peasants. he protested vehemently against their usurpation, and began a suit against the society; but his father's will seemed clear and explicit, and after having consumed all his little fortune, he found his claims disowned by every tribunal in the empire, including even the general assembly of the senate. in this seemingly hopeless extremity he applied to a certain attorney in st. petersburg, famous for his inexhaustible fertility of mind in matters of cunning and chicanery. after having perused the will and the documents connected with the suit, the lawyer said to his client, "your business is done; if you will promise me , rubles i will undertake to procure an imperial ukase reinstating you in possession of all your father's property." the young man readily agreed to the bargain, and in eight days afterwards he was master of his patrimony. the decision which led to this singular result rested solely on the interpretation of the phrase _they shall give him whatever portion they shall choose_, which plainly meant, as the lawyer maintained, that the young man was entitled exclusively to such portion as the jesuits _chose_, _i. e._, to that which they chose and retained for themselves. the emperor admitted this curious explanation; the son became proprietor of peasants, and the jesuits were obliged to content themselves with the they had bestowed on their ward in the first instance. assuredly the most adroit cadi in turkey could not have decided the case better. we have already seen that litigants can appeal to the governmental court, and again to the general assembly of the senate, in all suits for more than five hundred rubles. this privilege instead of being advantageous, appears to us to be highly the reverse. in france, where distances are short, and where justice is administered with a promptitude and impartiality elsewhere unexampled, the appeal to the court of cassation affords the most precious guarantee for the equitable application of the laws. besides this, it only gives occasions to a revision of the documents in the case, and to a new trial before another tribunal if there have been any error of form; but in russia, where distances are immense, and where all things conspire to render suits interminable, litigants from the provinces can only ruin themselves by using their right of recourse to the tribunals of st. petersburg. i have known landowners who spent twenty years of their lives in prosecuting a suit in the capital, and who died without having obtained judgment. it must be acknowledged, however, that appeals to st. petersburg are justified to a certain extent by the deplorable nature of governmental justice. the last radical vice we have to mention has its origin in the nobiliary system of peter the great, in inadequate salaries and the want of a special body of magistrates. we have seen the necessity entailed on all freemen of entering the service of the state and acquiring a more or less elevated rank, the consequence is, that all the public departments are overburdened with _employés_; and as most of them have no patrimony and are very scantily paid, sometimes not paid at all, they are of course driven to dishonest shifts for their livelihood. even the heads of departments are not sufficiently remunerated to be safe from the many temptations that beset them. the government has indeed augmented their salaries at various times, but never in a sufficient degree to produce any desirable reform in their conduct. the office of judge, too, is not regarded with sufficient respect and consideration to make it an object of ambition to the high nobility; it is filled in all instances by the lowest privileged class in the empire, or bestowed as a recompense on retired military men. this will no doubt appear extraordinary; but it must be remembered that there exists as yet in russia no distinct corps of magistrates, nor any official class of lawyers; the members of the several tribunals, whether elected by the nobles, or nominated by the emperor, are by no means expected to be acquainted with jurisprudence and the laws, and if any among them have studied law in the universities this is a mere accident. those of them who are honest, judge according to their conscience and their common sense; the others give their voices for those who have bought them. it is the same with the senate, the supreme judicial court in the empire. it consists only of military veterans, and superannuated servants of the state; in a word, of men who know nothing whatever of law. hence it is easy to conceive the unlimited power exercised in all these courts by the government secretaries, who, when they know by heart the some thousands of ukases that form what is called the imperial code, pass for eminent lawyers in the eyes of the russians. the same evil affects, to an equal degree, all the administrative departments. in russia, no calling or profession has its limits strictly defined; a man passes indifferently from one service to another. a cavalry officer, for instance, will be nominated as director of a high school, an old colonel as head of a custom-house, and so forth. in addition to the laws which are peculiar to it, russian legislation evidently comprises two foreign elements, the german and the roman. germanic law was introduced into russia by the varengians, a branch of the northman stock. to the leaders of those warriors the country owes the origin of its feudal system. subsequently, when the russians were converted to christianity, vladimir adopted certain parts of the roman law as modified by the byzantines. but if we may judge from the documents furnished by the nestorian chronicle, it would appear, that previously to that epoch, the russians had already borrowed some particulars from the roman code, and blended them with their customary law of indigenous and german origin. the first written code mentioned in russian history, is that of jaroslav, who reigned in the beginning of the thirteenth century; from that period the country remained quite stationary, in consequence of the continual wars and troubles occasioned by its territorial division; and more than a century of suffering and anarchy prepared the nation to submit without resistance to a foreign yoke. it was in that the tatars crossed the volga and seized the dominions of the tzars; and whilst europe, under the energetic influence of the crusades and of the lights of the lower empire, was sapping the edifice of feudalism, and labouring towards its future glorious emancipation, russia remained for more than years in ignominious thraldom, taking no part in the great intellectual movement of the fifteenth century, retrograding rather than advancing, debasing its national character day by day, and thus heaping up against the progress of civilisation, obstacles which the genius of its modern sovereigns has not yet been able to annihilate. in the ever memorable reign of ivan iii. the tatars were expelled from the greater part of russia, the dissensions caused by the parcelling out of the empire were extinguished, the several principalities were united into a single body, and legislative labours were resumed after four hundred years of inaction. ivan iii. had a collection made of all the old judicial constitutions, and published, with the assistance of the metropolitan jerome, a collection of laws, which is not without merit, considering the period when it was made. but this code allowed wager of battle; and murder, arson, and highway robbery, continued to be judged in the lists. about , ivan iv. surnamed the terrible, completed the code of laws promulgated by his grandfather, ivan iii. and put a check upon the territorial aggrandisements of the clergy. the new code, known by the name of _sudebnick_, remained in force almost without any change, until the accession of the tzar alexis michaelovitz (father of peter the great), who, having collected the laws of the several provinces of the empire, published them in , under the title of _ulogeniè_. this collection, the first printed in russia, was begun and completed within the space of two months and a half; but notwithstanding its imperfection, it has nevertheless, served as the foundation on which all subsequent improvements have been based. since the reign of peter the great, ten commissions have been successively employed in the codification of the russian laws. we will not enter into the details of the changes introduced by them: on this subject, the work published by m. victor foucher, and the "coup d'oeil sur la législation russe," by m. tolstoi, may be consulted with advantage. the tenth commission was appointed in , and sat until . it applied itself earnestly to the construction of the civil, penal, and criminal codes; but numerous difficulties prevented it from completing its task. on his accession to the throne, the emperor nicholas promised at first a new code which should correct and complete its predecessors. but the difficulties were too great, and he ended by adopting a digest, which merely classified according to their subjects all the existing laws promulgated since the general regulation of , effected by alexis michaelovitz. in , he laid down the following rules for this revision. . enactments fallen into desuetude to be excluded. . all repetitions to be suppressed, by choosing among statutes to the same effect that one which is most complete. . the spirit of the law to be preserved by expressing in a single rule the substance of all those that treat of the same matter. . the acts from which each law is drawn are to be exactly set forth. . between two contradictory laws, the preference to be given to the more recent. the design of the emperor nicholas was speedily carried into effect. the complete collection of the laws of the empire was published in ; and on the st of january, the tzar announced in a manifesto that the classification of the law as a systematic body was terminated. the matter was then spoken of in the russian journals in : "the second section of the private chancery of his majesty the emperor has just finished printing the first collection of the laws of the russian empire from to december , in forty-five volumes, to. "this collection consists of four principal parts: , the text of the laws from the general regulation of to the first manifesto of the emperor nicholas (december , ), in forty volumes. this part comprises , laws, rules, treaties, and acts of various kinds; , a general index containing a chronological table, which is in some sort a juridical dictionary for russia; , a book of the appointments of civil functionaries and of the administrative expenditure and the tariffs from to , to the number of ; , a book of the plans and designs pertaining to the several laws. "the laws and acts belonging to the reign of his majesty the emperor nicholas, will form the second collection beginning on the th of december, . the printing is already begun, and it will appear in the course of the year. a supplement to it will afterwards be published every year. "the laws anterior to the year of , which are generally considered as obsolete, but which are nevertheless of high importance as regards, history, will form a separate collection under the name of the ancient laws. "this first collection was begun in , and finished on the st of march, . the printing began on the st of may, , and ended on the st of april last, at the press of the second section of his majesty's chancery. for the composition of this collection, it has been necessary to collate and extract from books of laws. the forty volumes of the text, and the volume of the chronological index, contain printed sheets. "this book will be ready for sale on the st of june at the printing-office. the price of the forty-five volumes is paper rubles. "by a rescript of the th of april last, addressed to the privy-councillor dashkof, adjunct of the minister of justice and director of that ministry, his majesty the emperor notifies to him the order he has given to furnish copies of the collection to all the departments of the senate, and to all the tribunals and administrations of the government, and directs him to concert with the ministers of finance and of the interior for the prompt delivery of these books in all the governments, so that they may be kept and employed in due manner." thus the code of the emperor nicholas is, in fact, but a systematic collection of all the laws promulgated within the last years, or thereabouts. it contains not one new idea, not one modification required by the actual situation of the empire, not one thought for the future. now if we reflect that the study of books of laws, and the revision of , laws or ukases, have taken place within the short period of two years, and that the men who had to perform this task, were far from being jurisconsults, we shall perceive that such a work must be very imperfect, and that it must have been totally impossible to fulfil the intentions of the tzar, as expressed in the instructions above cited. the empire, indeed, possesses fifty-five bulky volumes of laws, but the inconveniences resulting from the multiplicity of contradictory ukases, and from others ill adapted to the necessities of the country, have been retained in them to a great extent; and the experience of thirteen years has shown the insufficiency of this collection, and its little influence on the course and conduct of lawsuits. another defective point in this improvisated legislation, is its pretension to satisfy the requirements of the future by admitting, as a complement to the body of the statutes, all the ukases issued, or to be issued by the emperor. if to these , laws already existing, this palladium of justice already so formidable, there be added every year a supplementary volume equal in capacity to the average legislative contributions of the last years, every year will then supply its battalion of new laws; and i am at a loss to conceive where there will be found by-and-by a lawyer sufficiently patient to study this new levy of justice, when with all the good will imaginable the most indefatigable reader can hardly once in his life pass in review the body of the veterans. in the space of five years since the emperor's manifesto (january , ), five new volumes have been already added to the collection. nevertheless, it cannot be denied that the emperor's performance is extremely meritorious. to him belongs the honour of having been the first to bestow a regular body of laws on his country. before his time russia had but a confused and fluctuating legislation, encumbered with an infinity of statutes, the study of which was the more difficult, as no printed collection of them existed. at present it possesses at least a complete digest, within reach of all, and which all may consult and appeal to. surely a man of the emperor's perseverance and great capacity would not have shrunk from accomplishing a more perfect work, could he have indulged the hope of being seconded by abler and better instructed jurisconsults. but he was compelled of necessity to take the consequences of the want of any thing like a corps of magistrature, and finding he could not do any thing better, he resolved to make no change in the spirit of the laws promulgated during the preceding years, and to follow exactly the course marked out in by peter the great. in this way the codification of the laws became a mere effort of compilation and arrangement, and setting aside the collation of the ukases, the clerks of the second section of the imperial chancery were quite competent to the task. it will not be altogether uninteresting to place here a detailed table of the population in a governmental chief town. an examination of such documents may lead to very curious comparisons and reflections. the town we have chosen is kichinev, the capital of bessarabia, and the figures we give have been extracted directly from the books of the provincial governor's chancery. | men. | women. | | monks | | priests | | servants | | military officers[a] in active service | | superior officers in the civil service, ditto | | officers of the fourteenth class, ditto | | | | _military officers on leave._ | | generals | | staff-officers of every grade | | | | _civil officers on leave._ | | generals | | superior officers and others | | ~~~~~~~~~~ | | persons employed in the theatre | | first guild merchants | | second ditto | | third ditto | | foreigners | | burghers | , | , government employés of all kinds | , | young people reared at the expense of the crown | | soldiers on furlough | | workpeople | | gipsy slaves | | german colonists | | pupils of all kinds | | |--------|-------- total | , | , [a: neither the officers nor the soldiers of the garrison are included in this list.] footnotes: [ ] the official correspondence of the ministers, and of the civil and military authorities, amounts annually to nearly , , of letters, whilst that of all private russians does not exceed , , . chapter xv. public instruction--corps of cadets--universities and elementary schools; anecdote--plan of education--motives for attending the universities--statistics--professors; their ignorance--exclusion of foreign professors--engineering-- obstacles to intellectual improvement--characteristics of the sclavonic race. in contemplating the development and organisation of public instruction in russia from the time of peter the great to these days, one cannot help thinking that the russians attach infinitely more value to the appearance of progress, than to its real existence. one would say they care very little about scientific and intellectual results, provided their universities and schools be complete in all physical details, and provided they have numerous educational halls graced with the names of all the sciences professed in europe. nevertheless, the sovereigns of russia have all laboured more or less actively for the propagation of public instruction. unfortunately they would never suffer themselves to admit that civilisation is a long and difficult work; and incapable of forgetting, even amidst the liberal ideas on which they based their projects, that they were before all things absolute princes, they fancied they could civilise their nation as they had disciplined their soldiers; and then, swayed by vanity and self-conceit, they graciously suffered themselves to be deceived by all the brilliant reports laid before them by the administrative departments. it was in the reign of feodor alexievitz that the first academy was founded in moscow. the sclavonic, greek, and latin languages were taught there. a university was afterwards established in the same city, and in the reign of catherine ii. st. petersburg possessed an academy of sciences and the fine arts, and a society of rural economy. but even at that period the spirit of ostentation, which forms the substratum of the russian character, already revealed itself; and while forming those grand institutions, not a thought had been given to the opening of a single elementary school in either capital. some writers indeed allege that peter i. left behind him, at his death, fifty-one schools for the people, and fifty-six for the military; but i have always been disposed to think that those establishments existed but in name, and my researches have but confirmed that opinion. the first elementary institution of any importance founded in the new capital, dates only from the beginning of the eighteenth century: it is the school of the cadet corps, exclusively reserved for the young nobility, and intended to form officers for the land and sea service, and for the engineers. in order to judge of the instruction afforded in it, one ought to be able at least to mention some of its pupils who have been distinguished for their talents, and who have acquired a certain degree of celebrity; but it is as difficult to name any such, as to discover men of learning and science among the members of the various academies mentioned above. be this as it may, we cannot help entertaining a very mean opinion of the spirit and organisation of all these establishments founded by peter the great, and by the sovereigns who succeeded him during the latter part of the eighteenth century. the first institution in favour of the people was created in st. petersburg in : it was an educational establishment for the daughters of burghers and gentlemen of scanty fortune. it was founded by catherine ii., who in taking measures by preference for the education of women, seems to have intended to prepare them for usurping in their domestic circle the same absolute sway which she was herself about to exercise over the whole empire. elementary schools were not actually opened to the public until , and that only in some of the great towns of the empire. as all these ill-contrived early institutions possess little interest, i will pass on to the consideration of the present state of public instruction. the existing system dates from alexander's reign. the course adopted in the beginning was on all points similar to that pursued by peter the great and catherine ii. the first thing thought of was the establishment of universities; those of dorpat and vilna were re-established; that of moscow was reformed, and new ones were founded in kasan and kharkof. as for elementary schools, they were completely overlooked. the following anecdote will give an idea of the primitive state of the great colleges of the empire. a german gentleman in the russian service travelled in the crimea, in . on passing through kharkof, curiosity induced him to visit the university, which had been opened in the town about a year before. while looking over the cabinet of natural philosophy, he perceived with amazement that the professor of that branch of science did not even know the names of the few instruments at his command. unable to conceal his surprise, he asked his guide where he had been professor before he became attached to the university. "i never was a professor before," was the reply. "where did you study?" "i learned to read and write in moscow." "how did you obtain the rank of professor of natural philosophy?" "i was an officer of police; my age no longer allowed me to support the fatigues of my duty; so hearing that a place which would suit me better was vacant in the academy, i applied for it. thirty years' service, good certificates, and the influence of a patron, enabled me to obtain it." "and what are the duties belonging to your place?" "i have to inspect the instruments, and keep them in order, and i am directed to show them to such persons of distinction as may please to visit the university." this happened, it is true, in , and i only mention the fact to show the spirit that prevailed in the establishment of these learned institutions. the university of kharkof is now in a better condition, and i know many professors there of real merit, distinguished among whom are doctor vancetti, equally remarkable for his acquirements and his philanthropy, and professor kalenitchikov, who devotes himself with success to all branches of natural history. at last, however, it was felt that universities were insufficient, and could not exist without elementary schools. some years after the accession of alexander, gymnasiums were therefore established in all the governmental chief towns; and the district towns had their primary institutions, in which were to be taught reading and writing, the elements of grammar and arithmetic, the history of russia, sacred history, geography, geometry, and the rudiments of latin. the course of instruction in the gymnasia was more extensive, and embraced special mathematics, logic, rhetoric, and physics. lastly, the pupil was advanced to the university, where he went through a complete course of study, comprising the sciences, the liberal arts, literature. at first sight it would appear that this well conceived plan of studies ought to have had the most satisfactory results; but this was not altogether the case. the nobiliary system of the empire, and certain regulations of detail and discipline combined to destroy the reasonable hopes founded on such liberal institutions. the russian universities unquestionably number among their professors some distinguished men, equally devoted to science and to the duties of their calling; but the social ideas prevalent in the country render their efforts almost always unavailing, and they find themselves compelled to restrict their course of instruction within the narrow routine prescribed to them. now and always the universities and gymnasia are and have been for the most part attended only by pupils of the class of petty nobles, or of those of the priests and burghers. as for the sons of the aristocratic families, they are generally educated at home by private tutors, and as they are almost all intended for the army, they enter at once into the corps of cadets established in st. petersburg. according to a table published by the ministry of the interior, all the first class establishments for public instruction, that is to say the universities, the two medico-chirurgical academies, the pedagogic institute and the three lycea, contained in only functionaries and professors, and pupils, the numbers being thus made up: | functionaries | | and teachers. | students. | | st. petersburg | | moscow | | dorpat | | kharkof | | kasan | | st. vladimir (kiev) | | richelieu lyceum (odessa) | | demidof ditto | | bezborodko ditto | | medico-chirurgical academies of | | moscow and vilna | | pedagogic institute of st. petersburg | | according to the same report the russian empire possessed at the close of the year , establishments under the superior direction of the ministry of public instruction, and containing , pupils. the young men who attend the university courses, have all but one single object in view, that of acquiring a grade of nobility; and the examinations are too slight to make industry and proficiency in their studies really requisite to the attainment of their purpose. besides, they are most of them educated at the cost of the government, and as the latter does not like to lose its money, they must all enter the imperial service, whether well taught or not. in this manner are formed all the physicians, surgeons, and subordinate professors of gymnasia. as for the civil departments the sole condition required for admission into them, is the knowledge of writing and arithmetic; accordingly the common class russian thinks he has completed his education when he can read, write, and cypher; and he is indeed sufficiently erudite to get a footing in some chancery office, a common clerkship in which admits him to the first grade as a civil officer, and from thence he may arrive at the highest rank in the service. many young men on leaving the universities, are of course employed in the public offices; but then, whatever talents they may possess, and whatever fruit they may have gathered from their studies become utterly useless to them. from the moment they enter any office whatever, they perceive with astonishment that they know nothing of what it is essential they should know. they have stepped into a new world of which they do not even know the language. they hear nothing talked of around them but forms, rules, tricks for evading the laws and ordinances, artifices for giving a legal colouring to abuses and extortions, and all sorts of inventions for squeezing money out of those who have the misfortune to need the help of the _employés_. they soon see that the greatest adepts in those frauds which are conveniently styled office usages, the least scrupulous, or, in plain terms, the greatest rogues, are considered clever fellows, and make their way rapidly; whilst those who still retain some sense of honesty and a lingering respect for the principles of morality, are laughed at as fools. what then does the novice, who has perhaps carried off the prize of eloquence at the university? finding himself obliged to defer to the lowest pupil of an elementary school, who has already gained some knowledge of office practice, he tries to forget all he has learned, and applies himself to a new course of study. his conscientious scruples are soon silenced; prompted by emulation he gradually becomes as accomplished as his mates, and by dint of this second education the clever fellow at last quite effaces the honest man. it is also from the universities that the young men are taken who are designed for the business of public instruction; and as we have already stated, they are for the most part educated at the expense of the state. when their studies are completed they are appointed professors in the gymnasia and other schools. the government has neglected no means of making their calling as advantageous as possible, both as to salary and honorary advancement. these encouragements would have the happiest effect anywhere else than in russia, but there they have quite the contrary result. it follows from the existing system of nobility with its graduated scale, the privileges it confers, and the means of fortune its offers, that a man's whole status in life resolves itself into a question of official rank. now, as no calling presents a greater chance of rapid advancement than that of the public instructor, in which capacity a young man rarely fails to obtain the rank of major (hereditary nobility) after five or six years' service, the consequence is that all the sons of the petty nobles, burghers, and priests, eagerly rush into this thriving profession. this, however, is not the real mischief; on the contrary, the great number of competitors might produce a very salutary rivalry; but unfortunately the little power and influence exercised by the professors, who after all, can only command boys, and still more than this, their want of opportunity to enrich themselves under cover of their office, strip the business of public instruction of all prestige, and cause it to be considered, notwithstanding its high pay, as much less advantageous than many other posts the fixed salary of which is almost nothing, but which enable the holders to levy almost unlimited contributions on those who come under their hands. what follows? as soon as the professors have obtained the rank of major, they quit the universities and enter the civil administrations, where they can fatten on law suits, chicanery, and exactions, and all the countless means by which the law enables them to make fraudulent fortunes. and here we may remark that this state of things is another consequence of the want of definite callings and professions in russia. the career of official rank is the only one known to the russian; for him there exists none other. we must not wonder, therefore, if the instruction given in the elementary schools, and the gymnasia is incomplete and almost barren of good effect. the teachers are almost always mere boys without experience or sound knowledge. they content themselves with going through their routine of business according to the letter of the rules, and the military discipline imposed on them; but once escaped from their classes, they think of nothing but enjoying themselves, eating, drinking, and playing cards. i have visited many gymnasia in russia, and i have always seen in them the same effects flowing from the same causes. besides the great universities and high schools, all the leading towns of the empire formerly contained numerous boarding schools, most of them kept by strangers; but these were suppressed by ukase in the year . the means of instruction are at present confined to the imperial establishments, from which all foreigners not naturalised in russia are excluded. these new regulations dictated by false vanity, will infallibly have a disastrous influence, and render the progress of education more and more difficult. there still exist in russia several establishments for the education of officers and civil and military engineers. the institute of ways and communications was established in the reign of alexander, under the superintendence of four pupils of the ecole polytechnique of france, mm. potier, fabre, destrême, and bazain, who entered the service of russia, at the request to that effect preferred by the tzar to napoleon. this school (which i have not visited) might have rendered great service to the empire, had the government been discreet enough to leave it its foreign professors, and not subject it to the absurd interference of the russian military drill. very few able men have issued from this institution, and the profound ignorance i have seen exhibited in all the great works executed at a distance from the capital, attests the decay of a school which at first promised so fairly. again, it must be owned, that from the time when engineers enter on active service, they have no leisure to complete their studies; as soon as they receive an appointment, their whole time is taken up with reports, accounts, writings without end, and all the countless formalities devised by the quibbling and captious spirit of the russians. i have known several engineers at the head of important works; they had not a moment to themselves, their whole day being spent in writing and signing heaps of paper. the same observations apply to the military, for whom secondary manoeuvres and minute costume observances form a never relaxing and stultifying slavery. under such a system, all the germs of instruction implanted in the schools, soon disappear in service. besides, it must be admitted that the generality of russians have a natural indifference to the sciences and the arts, which will long defeat the efforts of sovereigns desirous of effecting an intellectual regeneration. though i have gone over a large portion of the empire, i have found very few persons, young or old, who were really studious and well-informed, and too often i have met with nothing but the most utter apathy, where i had a right to expect interest and enthusiasm. it matters not that the emperor showers tokens of favour and respect on his _savans_, the russians themselves continue, notwithstanding, to treat them with great disdain. the reason is, that the arts and sciences do not lead to fortune in russia, and as they fall exclusively to the lot either of foreigners, or of the petty nobles, they cannot enjoy high consideration in a form of society which respects only might and authority, and consequently recognises but two vocations worthy of ambition, viz., the military profession and the civil service. but independently of the influence of a bad social organisation, the russians seem to me to be at this day the least apt by nature of all the nations of europe to receive solid instruction. the sclavonic race may be divided into two great branches: the first of these, which contains the poles among others, has felt the influence of the west, with which it has been in long and immediate contact, and so enabled to adopt its civilisation more or less closely; the second, on the contrary, has acknowledged the paramount influence of asia, and the russians who compose it, are still in our day under the action of the mongol hordes, to which they were enslaved for more than three centuries. again, russia is absolutely and entirely a novice in civilisation; go over her whole history, and you will not find a single page which gives proof of a really progressive tendency. it is a very remarkable fact that her political and commercial relations with the lower empire were entirely barren of result upon her civilisation, which remained completely stationary, even in circumstances most favourable to its development: it is therefore by no means surprising, that despite all the efforts of her sovereigns, she has been unable to place herself on the level of the other nations of europe within the space of a hundred years. the results of our civilisation, more than twenty centuries old, are not to be inculcated so rapidly: there needs we think, a long series of progressive initiations, so that the moral constitution reacting on the physical, may render the perceptions and the organs of the latter more delicate, and more suited to intellectual development: and this period of transition must necessarily be very long for a nation to which the past has bequeathed only reminiscences of slavery and destruction. look, on the other hand, at greece, moldavia, and wallachia, countries which have all had glorious periods in history; they have made great strides within ten years, and have in that short space of time established their claim to rank as members of the european family of nations. to their past history belongs in part the honour of their present advancement. that thirst for instruction, that incredible aptitude to seize and understand every thing, which is characteristic above all of the greeks, are evidently but old faculties long sunk in torpor under the pressure of slavery, and which waited but for a little freedom to break forth with new energy. chapter xvi. entry into the country of the don cossacks--female pilgrims of kiev; religious fervour of the cossacks--novo tcherkask, capital of the don--street-lamps guarded by sentinels--the streets on sunday--cossack hospitality and good nature--their veneration for napoleon's memory. beyond nakhitchevane, several valleys abutting on the basin of the don, isolated hamlets, and a few stanitzas, diversify the country, and make one forget the sterility of the steppes, that spread out their gray and scarcely undulating surface to the westward. the banks of the don which are seldom out of sight, are enlivened by clumps of trees, fishermen's huts, and herds of horses that seek there a fresher pasture than the desert affords. but except these animals, we saw not a single living creature; the heat was so intense, and the country is still so little inhabited, that most of the fields appeared to us in a state of wild nature. nothing around us indicated the presence of man. in the country of the don cossacks, as elsewhere throughout russia, the post road is barely marked out by two ditches so called, which you often drive over without perceiving them, and by distance posts two or three yards high. this is all the outlay the government chooses to incur for the imperial post roads leading to the principal towns of the empire. before arriving in novo tcherkask, the capital of the cossacks, we encountered another wandering party at least as curious as our gipsies. imagine our surprise when having passed through a wide ravine, which for a long while shut in the road, we saw defiling over the steppes a countless string of small cars, escorted by i know not how many hundreds of women. we advanced, puzzled and curious to the last degree; and the more we gazed the more the numbers of these women seemed to multiply. they were everywhere, in the cars, on the road, and over the steppes; it was like a swarm of locusts suddenly dropped from the sky. most of them walked barefoot, holding their shoes in one hand, and with the other picking up fragments of wood and straw, for what purpose we could not conceive. their carts were just like barrels with two openings, and were driven by themselves, for there was not the shadow of a beard among them. they were all returning, as they told us, from the catacombs of kiev, to which they had been making a pilgrimage. among them i remarked some old women who had scarcely a breath of life remaining. they seemed dreadfully fatigued, but at the same time very well pleased with their pious expedition. further on we met another procession of the same kind, which had already arranged its encampment for the night. two fires, fed with those little chips of wood that had so much perplexed us, served to prepare the evening meal. all the pilgrims were busy, and formed the most varied groups. some were fetching water in earthen pitchers, which they carried on their heads; others were kneeling devoutly, making the sign of the cross; and the genuflexions so frequent among the russians and cossacks; the oldest were feeding the fire and telling stories. it was an indescribable scene of bustle and noise, displaying a variety of the most picturesque attitudes and physiognomies. all the women were of cossack race. there is much more of pious fervour in this nation than in the muscovites. a slight difference of text between the bibles of the two people has occasioned a very great one in their religious sentiments. the cossacks call themselves the true believers, and abstain on religious grounds from the pipe, and from many other things which the muscovites allow themselves without scruple. the natural integrity of their character is rarely sullied by hypocrisy. they love and believe with equal ardour and sincerity. at the extremity of a plateau, on the verge of a wide and deep valley, the town of novo tcherkask suddenly appeared to us, rising in an amphitheatre, and embracing in its huge extent several hills, the broad slopes of which descend to the bottom of the valley. all the towns we had previously seen, and which had shocked us by the extravagant breadth of their streets and their dearth of houses, were nothing in comparison with what now met our eyes. seen from the point where we then stood, the whole town was like an enormous chess board, with the lines formed by avenues broader than the place du carousel in paris. these lines, bordered at intervals by a few shabby dwellings, and separated from each other by open spaces in which whole regiments might manoeuvre quite at their ease, some churches, and a triumphal arch erected in in honour of alexander, are the only salient points of this desert which they call a capital, and the superficial dimensions of which are, without exaggeration, as great as those of paris. novo tcherkask, now the seat of all the public offices of the don country, was founded in by count platof, who became so celebrated through the unfortunate french campaign of moscow. its very ill-chosen position forbids all chance of future prosperity. it is situated nearly eight miles from the don, on a hill surrounded on all sides by the axai and the touzlof, small confluents of the river from which it is so fatally remote. platof is said to have selected this site for the purpose of building a fortress; but his intentions have not been realised. another most serious inconvenience for the town is the absolute want of good water. wealthy persons use melted ice to make tea. in the great square there are two very large bazaars with wooden roofs, in which are found all sorts of goods, and especially an abundant collection of military equipments for the use of the cossacks. there is also a great arsenal, but quite destitute of arms. as for the other edifices, they are not worth mentioning, notwithstanding all the fine descriptions given of them by geographers. but novo tcherkask has one precious thing to boast of--a thing unique in russia--and that is an excellent hotel kept by a frenchman, in which the traveller finds all the comforts he can desire. the nobility who have strongly encouraged this establishment, have formed in it a casino, in which many balls are given in the winter. the emperor nicholas visited the don cossacks in , and to this auspicious event the capital owed the good fortune of being supplied with lamps in the streets. but the lights went out when his majesty departed; and it is said, that in order to save the lamps from being stolen, the authorities had been obliged to make an armed cossack stand sentry over each of them. the population of novo tcherkask, formed by the union of four stanitzas, amounts to about , . staro tcherkask, the old capital, now abandoned, has nothing to attract the traveller's attention, though dr. clarke has bestowed on it the pompous title of the russian venice. our arrival in the cossack capital fell on a sunday. as the windows of our hotel looked full on the only promenade in the town, the greater part of the population passed in review before us. every thing here bespeaks the nomade and warlike temper of the cossacks. there is no copying of european fashion, no frank costumes, no mixed population; every thing is cossack, except a few kalmuck figures, telling us of the vicinity of the volga. the cossacks we had seen at taganrok, had given us but a poor opinion of the beauty of the women of the country; we were, therefore, agreeably surprised at the sight of all the pretty girls that passed continually before our windows. even their costume, which we had thought ugly, now seemed not wanting in originality, and even in a certain piquancy. the young girls let their braided hair fall on their shoulders, and usually tie the braids with bright ribbons, that hang down to their heels. some of them confine their tresses in a long bag made of a silk handkerchief, a style of head-dress by no means unbecoming. it was really a very pretty sight to see the crowd of elegant officers and young women in gala attire that filled the footways, exchanging looks, smiles, and even soft discourse, as if they were in a ball-room. the men are tall and handsome, and look remarkably well in uniform. bravery and noble pride are legible in their features and their eyes, as if they were still those fiery children of the steppes, who, before the days of catherine ii. acknowledged no other power than that of their ataman, freely chosen by themselves. arms are at this day their sole occupation, just as they were a hundred years ago, and their organisation is still altogether military, as we shall see by and by. what erroneous notions are entertained in france, of these good-natured, inoffensive, and hospitable cossacks! the events of and , have left a deep repugnance towards them in all french minds, and indeed it could hardly be expected it should be otherwise. but speaking of them as we found them in their own land, they do not deserve the aversion with which our countrymen regard them. there is no part of russia where the traveller is more safe than in their country, nor does he anywhere meet with a more kindly welcome. the name of frenchman, especially, is an excellent recommendation there. the portrait of napoleon is found in every house, and sometimes it is placed above that of the great st. nicholas himself. all the old veterans who have survived the great wars of the empire, profess the greatest veneration for the french emperor, and these sentiments are fully shared by the present generation. chapter xvii. origin of the don cossacks--meaning of the name--the khirghis cossacks--races anterior to the cossacks--sclavonic emigrations towards the east. the origin of the don cossacks has, like that of the tatars of southern russia, given rise to interminable discussions. some have represented this people as an offshoot of the great sclavonic stock; others consider it as only a medley of turks, tatars, and circassians. vsevolojsky adopts the former of these opinions, in his geographical and historical dictionary of the russian empire. m. schnitzler boldly decides the question, in his statistics of russia, by declaring that the cossacks of the don have proceeded from the caucasus, and belong for the most part to the tcherkess or circassian nation. constantino porphyrogenitus, a writer of the ninth century, mentions a country called _kasachia_. "on the other side of the papagian country," he says, "is kasachia, and immediately afterwards are discovered the tops of the caucasus." the russian chronicles likewise mention a circassian people subjugated in by prince mstizlav, of tmoutarakan. these, it must be owned, are very vague data, and the resemblance between two names is not warrant for our concluding that the cossacks of our day and the kasachians of the ninth century, are one and the same nation. except the few words we have just cited, we have no other information respecting the latter people, and all the historical researches hitherto made, have failed to determine the real situation of tmoutarakan. this town has been placed sometimes at riazan, sometimes at the mouth of the volga, on the site of astrakhan, sometimes on the asiatic shore of the bosphorus. a stone, with a sclavonic inscription, discovered at taman, seemed for a while to have solved the problem. but it was afterwards fully demonstrated, that this grand historical discovery was only a hoax practised on the credulous antiquarians. the kasachia of the ninth century is thus but very imperfectly known to us; even with the help of constantino porphyrogenitus, it would be difficult to determine its position with any real precision; and when the cossacks, now known to us, appear for the first time, years afterwards, it would be rash and arbitrary in the extreme to declare them the descendants of a people so briefly mentioned by the byzantine writer. this opinion will appear the less admissible, when it is considered that the country of the cossacks, situated around the sea of azov, lay directly in the route of all those conquering hordes that issued from asia to overrun and ravage europe, and afterwards disappeared successively, without leaving any other trace of their existence than their name in the pages of history. is it likely that kasachia was more fortunate? is there any probability that its people, after years of absolute obscurity, again arose out of the chaos of all those revolutions, to produce the cossacks of our day? we cannot think so. historical inquiries, and above all a knowledge of the regions extending between the sea of azov and the caspian, prove beyond question that all those countries were never occupied by a nation having fixed habitations. we have ourselves traversed those russian deserts, up to the northern foot of the caucasus; and except the somewhat modern remains of madjar, on the borders of the kouma, we nowhere found any vestige of human occupancy, or any trace of civilisation. it is, therefore, by no means likely, that amidst all the convulsions of the asiatic invasions, from the ninth to the fifteenth century, whilst so many races were disappearing completely, that a little remote nomade people shall have preserved for years its nationality and its territory, without being swept away and absorbed by all those warlike hordes that must have passed over it in torrents. this would be an historical fact perfectly unique in that part of the world; to us it appears in flagrant contradiction with historical experience. we are of opinion then, that the cossacks of our day have nothing in common with the kasachia of constantino porphyrogenitus, and that we must look elsewhere for their origin and for the reason of their appellation. let us in the first place examine this word _cossack_. according to the use in which it was formerly and is still employed, it seems evidently not to belong to a special people, but simply to express the generic character of every nation, having certain distinct manners and customs. thus in russia, at this day, the name of cossacks is given to all those persons who are under military organisation: there are turcomans, kalmuks, and tatars so called in the steppes of the caspian; and in bessarabia, some gipsies and a medley of nondescript people constitute the cossacks of the dniestr. the don cossacks, themselves, attach no historical significance to their designation, which they seem to regard merely as a by-name given to them in former times, and they readily share it with the nomade tribes around them, whose organisation is the same as their own. the only appellation they assume among themselves, is that of true believers. the existence of the khirghis kaissacks of our day, can be traced back to more remote times; but there is certainly no analogy between this mussulman people and our cossacks. furthermore, it seems proved that the tatars before their invasions of europe, used to give the appellation of cossacks to all those individuals of their own race, who, having no property, were obliged to subsist by pillage, or to sell their services to some military leader. _cossack_ then, according to our apprehension, signifies only a nomade and a vagabond people, and it is likely that the tatars on their arrival in europe, gave that name to all the wandering tribes they found in the steppes of azov and of the don. what tends still more to confirm this opinion is, that no mention of cossacks is made by rubruquis and du plan de carpin, who traversed all the regions of southern russia, on their embassy to the grand khan, in the beginning of the thirteenth century. and now let us ask whence came those nomade people that preceded the modern cossacks in the steppes of the don and the sea of azov? here again we must dissent from the views of dr. edmund clarke and lesur which have been generally adopted in schnitzler's statistics. according to the testimony of all historians the slaves already occupied various parts of southern russia, during the first period of the decadence of the lower empire: every one knows indeed that the descendants of rurik often carried their attacks on the emperors of the east up to the very gates of their capital. the annals of russia also demonstrate the existence of the slaves at the same period, in all little russia, and even in the country of the don. this region was then called severa. its inhabitants, after a long contest with the petchenegues, emigrated in part, and we now find their name attached to one of the principalities of the danube, viz., servia. again, it is universally admitted even by the adversaries of our opinions that the don country was occupied previously to the tatar invasions by a nomade and warlike people, the polovtzis, who, there is every reason to think, were no other than slaves.[ ] it may well be conceived that the dissensions and continual wars between the numerous chieftains, among whom the russian soil was formerly parceled out, must naturally have produced numerous emigrations; and these partial emigrations being too weak to act against the west, must of course have turned eastward towards those remote regions of the steppes where the fugitives might find freedom and independence. it would be difficult then to disprove that a slavic people existed on the banks of the don when the tatars arrived; and that people was apparently the polovtzis, an agglomeration of fugitives and malcontents, who, during the convulsions of the russian empire, under vladimir the great's successors, seem to have laid the first foundations of the cossack power in the steppes of the sea of azov and the don.[ ] the name of the polovtzis disappeared completely under the tatar sway; but it would be illogical thence to infer that the people itself utterly perished, and did not share the destiny of the other sclavonic tribes of russia. we agree, therefore, with some historians in thinking that the polovtzis merely exchanged their appellation for that of cossacks, imposed on them by the tatars, and made permanent by a servitude of more than three centuries. we have besides already remarked that the tatars used among themselves to call all adventurers and vagabonds cossacks: it is not, therefore, surprising that they should on their arrival in russia, have given this designation to the nomade hordes of the polovtzis. this historical version seems far more rational than the supposition that the polovtzis completely disappeared, and were entirely supplanted by a caucasian race, which had taken part in the expeditions of batou khan. the traveller, who has studied the cossacks and the mountaineers of the caucasus, can never admit the doctrine that would make but one nation of these two. our notions on this subject are corroborated in every point by physiological observations. in the first place, considerations founded on religion and language, are not so lightly to be rejected as clarke and lesur assert. the conversion of the cossacks would not certainly have been passed over unnoticed in the history of the lower empire; the byzantine writers would have been sure to record such a triumph of their creed; but they say not a word about it; and every one knows perfectly well in what manner christianity was categorically introduced into russia. moreover, if the cossacks had been nothing but circassians at the beginning of the thirteenth century, it would be hard to account for their ready adoption of a foreign language and religion, at a time when that language and that religion were, if not proscribed, at least much discredited under the tatar sway. the last russian expeditions into the caucasus, towards the sources of the kouban, have, it is true, given birth to new historical ideas as to that part of asia. thus, there have been discovered two churches in a perfect state of preservation, the origin of which is evidently genoese or venetian, and we can scarcely fail to recognise in the circassians some traces of christianity in the profound respect they bear to the cross. but, on the other hand, nothing indicates that this people was ever christian; on the contrary, every thing proves that its primitive religion, if its religious notions may be so called, has undergone no alteration. those christian edifices, too, which we have alluded to, belong to a later period than the inroads of the tatar hordes, consequently they can only testify in favour of our views. no chronicle speaks of the emigration of a tcherkess people in the middle ages. the only tradition relating to any thing of the kind, is that of a strong tribe from the caucasus, which, after occupying the plains of the danube, is said to have settled at last in pannonia. every one is aware that mountain tribes are the least migratory of all, and the most attached to their native soil; it is, therefore, natural to suppose that the circassians, so proud of their independence and so often ineffectually attacked, did not receive the warriors of genghis khan as friends, or take part in their sanguinary expeditions.[ ] hence m. schnitzler appears to me to propound a more than questionable fact when he alleges, following karamsin, that the circassians entered russia with batou khan, and so formed by degrees that new people, which, to borrow the language of this statician, _on the breaking up of the tatar rule and the dispersion of the clouds, which till then had hung over their country, appears to us as russian and christian, but with circassian features, with tatar manners and customs, and hating the muscovites_. how can we assign such an origin to the don cossacks when there exists neither among them, nor among their supposed brethren, any tradition of so modern a fact? besides, if the cossacks had really come from the caucasus, would they not have retained some neighbourly relations with the mountaineers? is it not a singular notion to take circassians, the most indomitable of all men, and the most attached to their hereditary usages and manners, to subject them to the tatars for more than years, and then to transform them at once, and without transition, into a people speaking pure unmixed sclavonic, and professing the greek religion? this is certainly one of the most curious of metamorphoses; before it could happen there must have been a combination of circumstances exactly the reverse of those which have really existed. the circassians, one would think, would have been much more disposed to adopt the religion of the victors, than of the vanquished, the more so as islamism having already at that period made considerable progress in eastern caucasus, would give them a much stronger bias towards the tatars, than towards the wandering hordes of the polovtzis, from which we derive the cossacks. notwithstanding the assertions of dr. clarke, it is not easy to trace much resemblance between the circassians and the cossacks. at present we see all the people who dwell at the foot of the caucasus, generally adopting the habits of the mountain tribes. a great number of nogai tatars have become completely blended with them. the cossacks of the black sea have borrowed from them their costume and their arms. the muscovites and the german colonists themselves have not escaped the energetic influence of the caucasian tribes; and yet some would have us believe that the don cossacks, a tcherkess tribe, separated from the parent stock not more than years, have undergone a contrary impulse during all that time, and now present, in a manner, no resemblance to their ancestors. the two peoples differ in costume, arms, industry, and every other particular. the circassians are extremely apt in manufactures, and excel in all sorts of handicraft productions, to which they give a very marked and original character. the cossacks, on the contrary, have little or no turn for manufactures; in this respect they exhibit no trace of what characterises the caucasian tribes in so high a degree. as for the tatar habits, of which m. schnitzler speaks, i know not where to look for them, unless they consist in the trousers generally worn by the cossack women. after all, the tatars must necessarily have left some traces of their habits in the countries over which they ruled for so many centuries. the real point of contact between the cossacks and the circassians, consists in their love of freedom, and their intense hatred for every thing russian. but these sentiments evidently flow from their ancient and primitive constitution; and if they detest the russians, it is because the muscovite sovereigns, who have never ceased to attack their privileges, have at last succeeded in annihilating their whole political existence. undoubtedly the cossacks are not pure sclavonians, like the people of great russia, but are mixed up with many other races. the don country long remained a soil of freedom, a real land of asylum for all refugees. the circassians have probably not been strangers to their past history, and the adventurous life of the cossack must have fascinated many a mountain chief. history, too, informs us that the sclavons of poland have mingled their blood with that of the inhabitants of the don country. it is this medley of races, and the combination of all these various influences, added to the thoroughly republican character of their primitive constitution, that give the cossacks their intellectual superiority, and make them a nation apart. but the principle stock is nevertheless sclavonic. the partisans of the circassian origin have also dwelt on the resemblance between the name of the capital of the don country, and that of a caucasian tribe. but really when a historical question of this importance is under discussion, such a resemblance cannot be of much weight. we know that some fugitives from the boristhenes, about the year , fell in with cossacks on the don, and joined with them in an attack on azov, which then belonged to the turks. it was just about this period, , that staro tcherkask was founded. we should hence be disposed to believe that the fugitives from the ukraine had a great share in the creation of that town, and that they called it tcherkask, in memory of the name of the old capital of their native land. the don cossacks appear to us for the first time in the thirteenth century, on the ruins of the tatar empire. not till then did they begin to make a certain figure in the history of the muscovite empire. in the reign of ivan iv. the terrible, they put themselves under the protection of russia. from that time until near the end of the last century, we see them sometimes marching under the banners of the muscovite sovereigns, sometimes rising against them, and often bringing the empire to the very verge of ruin. their political condition was in those days a real republic, founded on a basis of absolute equality. the head of the government, styled ataman, was selected by the whole assembled nation, and retained his office but for five years; but his power was dictatorial, and no one could call him to account for his acts, even after the expiration of his office. all the subaltern leaders were likewise elected, and retained their posts for a greater or less time, according to circumstances. equality, however, resumed its sway at the end of each military campaign; each officer, on returning into private life, enjoyed only the rights common to all; and the colonel or starshine often made the ensuing campaign as a private soldier. aristocracy was totally unknown to the don cossacks in those days; if some families were distinguished from the rest by their greater influence, they owed this solely to their courage and their exploits. so strong was then the sense of independence, that the cossacks despised as vile mercenaries those who took permanent service under the russian sovereigns. as for the imperial suzerainty, it was limited to the right of calling for a military contingent in case of war, and of disposing of a small body of troops to defend the frontiers against the nomades of the steppes. cossack freedom was doomed to perish when brought into collision with the principles of absolutism and servitude which rule in the russian empire; accordingly, as soon as the empress catherine ii. felt strong enough to make the attempt, she decided on a radical change in the political constitution of the don country. the first of her ukases to this effect enacted that all the cossack officers in the service of russia should retain their rank and privileges on their return to their own country; a regulation directly opposed to the habits and usages of that republican people. how, indeed, could that haughty soldiery have endured that slave-officers, as it called them, should be put on the same footing with its own, elected by the acclamations of the nation? a revolt ensued, but it was promptly put down. the illustrious potemkin could not understand that insurrection, for it seemed to him incredible that the cossacks should rebel because they were granted almost all the privileges of russian officers. after these unhappy troubles, their elections were abolished, and their political system was gradually changed, until it came to resemble that of a russian government. count platof was the last ataman of the cossacks, and he owed the authority he was allowed to enjoy, in a great measure to the peculiar circumstances in which he was placed by the wars of the empire. the don country continued through the last century as before, to be a land of asylum and freedom for all refugees. this led to the settlement of a great number of russians among the cossacks. the emperor paul took advantage of this circumstance to secure the attachment of the principal families by publishing an ukase, in which he at once, and without warning, declared all the russian fugitives slaves of the landowners, whose patronage they had accepted. this first partition of the people was not the last; another ukase of the same sovereign completed the work of catherine ii., abolished equality, and constituted an aristocracy by ennobling all the officers and _employés_ of the government. the nobility at present amount to a considerable number, and all the officers are taken from that body. the young cossacks, like the russians, enter the st. petersburg corps as cadets, at ten or twelve years of age; after some years they join a regiment as _junker_, and two or three months afterwards they become officers. the political power of the cossacks being annihilated, active means were taken to deprive them of all military strength, by dispersing them all over the empire, and stationing them wherever there were quarantines, custom-house lines, and hostile frontiers to guard. cossack posts were simultaneously established on the frontiers of poland, and at the foot of the caucasus. lastly, every means of enfeeblement was largely employed, and after the death of platof, under pretext of rewarding the nation for its devotedness during the campaign of moscow, the functions of ataman-in-chief were suppressed, and the title was conferred on the heir-apparent. all these arbitrary measures, which, after all cannot be blamed, have naturally excited the most violent discontent in the country of the don, and the cossacks would undoubtedly cause the empire serious uneasiness in case of war. the government is not ignorant of this hostile temper. in recent times it did not dare to trust the cossacks with real pieces of artillery, and the regiments were compelled to exercise with wooden cannons. it is certain that the campaign of would not have been so disastrous for france, if napoleon had taken care to send emissaries among the inhabitants of the don with promises to re-establish their ancient political constitution. i have questioned a great number of military men on this subject, and all were unanimous in assuring me of the alacrity with which the cossacks would then have joined the french army. nothing can give an idea of the antipathy they cherish to their masters; the feeling pervades all classes, in spite of every effort of the government. the russians affect so much disdain for the cossack nobles, that the latter, notwithstanding their epaulettes and their decorations, cannot but bitterly regret the old republican constitution. furthermore, the military service is so onerous, that it checks all agricultural and industrial activity; for be it observed, that the cossacks of the present day are far from being the plunderers they were in former times. the service is to them but a profitless task, and they all long eagerly for a sedentary life, which would allow them to attend to rural occupations, and to trade. the country of the don cossacks is now definitively a russian government. all the laws of the empire are there in full force, and the administrative forms are the same, under other names. nevertheless, the still free attitude of the cossacks has not hitherto permitted the installation of the russian _employés_ among them. within the last three years only, the government has succeeded in having itself represented at novo tcherkask, by a general placed at the head of the military staff of the country. the cossacks regard this innovation with dislike, and spare their new military superior no annoyance. the following is the present organisation of the don cossacks:-- the ataman (_locum tenens_) holding the grade of lieutenant-general, is the military and civil head of the government, and at the same time the president of the various tribunals of the capital. the functions of vice-president having been conferred since on the general of the staff before mentioned, the latter is in fact the sole influential authority in the country. the province of the don cossacks is divided into seven civil and four military districts; the courts are similar to those of the other governments. the army amounts at present, to fifty-four regiments, of men each (not including the two regiments of the emperor and the grand duke) and nine companies of artillery, having each eight pieces of cannon. in , there were twenty-eight regiments in active service, fifteen of them in the caucasus, with three companies of artillery. at the same time, nine other regiments were under orders to march for the lines of the kouban. all the cossacks are soldiers born: their legal term of service is twenty years abroad, or twenty-five at home. but no regard is paid to this regulation, for most of them remain in active service for thirty or even forty years. they pay no taxes, but are obliged to equip themselves at their own expense, and receive the ordinary pay of russian troops only from the day they cross their native frontiers.[ ] the organisation of the regiments is effected in rather a curious manner. when a regiment is to be sent to the caucasus, each district receives notice how many soldiers and officers it is to supply, and then the first names on the military books are taken without distinction. the place of muster is usually near the frontier, and every one arrives there as he pleases, without concerning himself about others. when all the men are assembled, they are classed by squadrons, the requisite officers are set over them, and the detachment begins its march. hence we see there is nothing fixed in the composition of the regiments. the cossacks are subjected nevertheless to the european discipline, and formed into regular corps; but this innovation seems likely to be fatal to them, by completely destroying their valuable aptitude for acting as skirmishers. the emperor nicholas visited the don country in , and reviewed the cossack troops at novo tcherkask, but it appears that he was exceedingly displeased with the condition of the regulars. accordingly, that he might not expose them to the criticism of foreigners, he took care not to be accompanied by the brilliant cortège of european officers who had been present at the grand military parades of vosnecensk. the population of the don cossacks amounts to about , , occupying , , hectares of land, and divided into four very distinct classes: . the aristocracy founded by the emperor paul; . the free cossacks; . the merchants; . the slaves. the free cossacks form the mass of the population, and furnish the horse soldiers; they have however the opportunity of acquiring nobility by military service, but to this end, they must serve for twelve years as non-commissioned officers. the merchants form a peculiar class, which can hardly exceed in number. they are not bound to do military service, but in lieu of this, they pay taxes to the government. the slaves, whose origin we have described, amount to about , souls. the revenues of the government of the cossacks, are about , , rubles, more than sufficient for the expenditure, that is to say, for the payment of the _employés_. the spirit duties produce , , rubles, the rest is made up by the salt works of the manitch, and the pasturage dues. the country of the don cossacks is bounded on the north by the two governments of voroneje and saratof; on the east by the latter, and that of astrakhan; on the south by the government of the caucasus, the country of the cossacks of the black sea, and the sea of azov; on the west, by the governments of voroneje and iekaterinoslav and the ukraine slobodes. all this territory forms a vast extent, no part of which is detached as m. schnitzler asserts; on the contrary, the regency of taganrok is completely encompassed by it. the country of the cossacks may be divided into two very distinct parts: that situated to the north and west, presenting lofty plains intersected by many rivers and ravines, is admirably adapted for agriculture, and possesses excellent pastures. among its numerous rivers, are the donetz, the mious, and the kalmious, which marks its frontier on the west, and the khoper and the medveditza on the north-east. it is principally along the two latter streams, that the cossacks have established their most celebrated studs, among the foremost of which, are those of count platof. the second division of the country, consists of all the steppes that extend along the left bank of the don, to the confines of the government of the caucasus, and along the manitch to the frontier of astrakhan. the soil is here unvaried; it is the russian desert in all its uniformity, and the basin of the muddy and brackish manitch, is perfectly in harmony with the regions it traverses. but those monotonous plains are a source of wealth to the cossacks, who rear vast herds of horses and other cattle; several thousands of kalmucks too find subsistence in them. until , the government of the cossacks exhibited one very singular peculiarity. its whole territory formed but one vast communal domain, without any individual owners or ownership. after several fruitless attempts, the russian government finally determined on dividing the lands, and the work must by this time have been completed. besides the new arrangements adopted, there have been granted to each family thirty hectares of land for each male, and fifteen additional for each slave. after this distribution, there will remain to the government, , , hectares of land, on which it will no doubt establish muscovite colonies. this division of the land is a final blow to the old cossack institutions, and ere long the population will consist only of nobles and peasants, just as in the rest of russia. the peasants are free it is true, but their properties will soon be absorbed by the wealthier and more powerful: and then an ukase will do the work of establishing slavery in the country. the community of landed property was hitherto the only obstacle to a complete severance between the new nobles and the other cossacks. it was another remnant of the old republican equality, and was naturally doomed to fall before the principles of unity and centralisation of the russian government. when we see russia laying her hand on all the free populations of the southern part of the empire, and bringing them gradually under the yoke of serfdom, we cannot but be struck with astonishment, and compare the revolution it is now effecting before our eyes, with that which so deplorably signalised the roman sway. it may easily be conceived how fatal the military organisation of the cossacks must be to their prosperity and well-being. never sure of what the morrow may bring forth, and liable at any moment to be called to arms, they have of necessity fallen into indifference and sloth. their domestic ties are broken, for they are often many years without seeing their wives and children. under such a system, all intellectual improvement becomes impossible; and there has also resulted from it an incipient demoralisation, compressed as yet by the force of primitive manners, but which will not fail at last to spread over the whole population. yet the cossacks are eminently intelligent. i saw thirty young men at novo tcherkask execute topographical plans extremely well, after a few weeks' study. the russian generals themselves could not refrain from expressing their surprise to me at so rapid a progress. let russia renounce the oppressive system she is forcing on the cossacks; let the latter, on their part, make up their mind to admit that their ancient constitution is in our day become an utopia; and the don country will soon make rapid advances in colonisation, and exhibit all that constitutes the prosperity and wealth of a nation. the means of instruction enjoyed by the cossacks are still extremely limited. in the whole country there is but one gymnasium, very recently established in novo tcherkask; but the wealthier cossacks have long been used to have their children educated in the neighbouring governments, particularly in taganrok, where the private schools kept by foreigners afford them great advantages. the rearing of cattle, especially of horses, is now the chief source of gain to the cossacks. count platof's studs, as we have already said, are reputed the best: they are descended from the trans-kouban races, crossed by persian and khivian stallions, procured by the late count during the war of with persia. very good cavalry horses are also produced by platof's stallions out of tatar and kalmuck mares. count platof's horses fetch from to rubles; but in the steppes of the manitch, where there are very extensive herds, the price seldom exceeds . the care of the herds is chiefly committed to kalmucks; usually horses are kept by one family, five hundred by three, a thousand by five, and from to by six. except a few proprietors, who are careful about the improvement of the breed, the cossacks allow their vast herds to wander about the steppes without any care or superintendence. the horses of the don never enter a stable; summer and winter they are in the open air, and must procure their own food, for which they have often to strive against the snow; hence they become extremely vigorous, and support the most trying campaigns with remarkable hardiness. nothing can be more simple and expeditious than the way in which they are broken in. the horse selected is caught with a noose; he is saddled and bridled; the rider mounts him, and he is allowed to gallop over the steppe until he falls exhausted. from that moment he is almost always perfectly tamed, and may be used without danger. i rode a mare thus broken, in one of my longest journeys on horseback. six days before my departure she was completely free; yet i never rode a more docile animal. the cossacks have three sorts of horned cattle, the kalmuck, the hungarian, and the dutch breeds. the first is generally preferred because it does not require to be stalled either winter or summer, or to receive any particular care, and always can pick up its feed in the steppes. at the same time the loss of cattle is enormous in long and severe winters, for the proprietors can never procure hay for more than six weeks' consumption, on account of the great numbers of their herds. at the end of the year , the don country possessed in cattle: horned cattle , , sheep , , goats , camels , horses , --------- total , , in that year the sheep produced , , kilogrammes of wool, which was exported. of the above number of sheep, only , are merinos. the wool of the latter fetched rubles the kilogrammes, whilst that of the native sheep did not sell for more than to . but the merinos require too much care, and i much doubt that they will ever be reared on a large scale by the cossacks. besides, as we have already seen, the breeding of merinos is far from being as profitable at this day as it was formerly. agriculture, properly so called, must naturally be in a depressed condition in a country of which the tenth part of the population is continually either in active service, or in readiness to be called out. no more corn is cultivated than is sufficient for the subsistence of the inhabitants. the crop of was , , hectolitres, a quantity considerably too small for seed, and for the consumption of a nation that annually consumes . hectolitres per head. the cossacks were, therefore, obliged to draw on the reserved stores and on the neighbouring governments. in general, whatever m. schnitzler may say to the contrary, their agriculture produces no more than is barely necessary; notwithstanding the advantages of a great navigable river, and its position on the sea of azov, the don country has not yet been able to export any corn. the cultivation of the vine is the only one that has prospered in any remarkable degree among the cossacks; it prevails in the southern regions on the banks of the don and of the axai. they now reckon vineyards, yielding annually, on an average, from , to , hectolitres of wine, and to of brandy. in , the production amounted to nearly , ; and when i was in novo tcherkask, grapes were selling there for three rubles the kilogrammes. sparkling wines are made, of which the don country now exports more than a million of bottles yearly. the best wine of a certain abrahamof is usually charged for at the rate of six rubles in the inns of novo tcherkask. the reader will, no doubt, be surprised to hear of such quantities of sparkling wines; but russia is unquestionably the country in which that sort of beverage is most esteemed; and as the petty nobles and the _employés_ cannot afford to drink champagne, they have recourse to the cossack vintage. the latter is consumed in incredible quantity, principally in the fairs, where no bargain can be concluded without a case of don wine. it is very agreeable, and is much liked, even by foreigners. it is to frenchmen the cossacks owe this branch of industry. fishing also forms an important source of income for the cossacks. it is carried on chiefly at the mouths of the don. in , it produced , kilogrammes of sturgeons yielding caviare, and more than , , of fish of different kinds, which they salt and send to the neighbouring governments. bees must also be enumerated among the sources of wealth in the country. the mious district, which possesses nearly , hives, produced in , , kilogrammes of honey, and , kilogrammes of wax. from these hints it will be seen how rich is the country of the cossacks, and how high a degree of prosperity it might reach under an enlightened and liberal administration. manufacturing industry is the only one that, as yet, has made no progress in it. it is said not to possess a single manufactory, which is natural enough, considering the military organisation of the nation. there is an extreme want of workmen; the few found in the country, who come from the neighbouring governments, demand very high pay, as much as two rubles and a half a day, which is exorbitant in russia. as for mineral wealth, the don country possesses abundance of coal and anthracite, the latter of which is worked in the neighbourhood of novo tcherkask. among the tribes incorporated with the don cossacks, the kalmucks demand especial mention. in the reign of the emperor paul, an ukase was issued, commanding a census to be taken of all the nomade tribes subject to russia. this certain presage of some tax or other, spread consternation among the kalmucks; their hordes began to break up, and great numbers of them took refuge with the cossacks. but the fatal ukase soon pursued them to their new asylum, whereupon some returned to the steppes of the caspian, whilst the rest being retained by the cossacks, were put under the same military and civil system of administration as the inhabitants of the don. these kalmucks now form a population of about , , and encamp on both banks of the manitch, about miles from the confluence with the don. in order to give some notion of the manners and customs of this people, i will here copy some fragments from an account of a scientific journey i made along the manitch, to determine the difference of level between the black sea and the caspian. it was towards the end of may, , i set out from novo tcherkask, to explore the manitch, a paltry stream, but which, nevertheless, had for a long while the honour of marking the boundary between europe and asia. i was accompanied by my friend, baron kloch, a german by birth, and a most agreeable man, lately arrived for the first time in russia. his intelligent conversation was a great source of enjoyment to me. six hours' travel brought us to axai, a charming stanitza, built like an amphitheatre on the right bank of the don. it is the great trading place of the cossacks, and but for the vicinity of rostof, a russian, and of course a privileged town, it would have been made the capital of the don country, and the general entrepôt of all the traffic from the north of the empire. the project was even entertained at first, but it was defeated partly by intrigue, and partly i believe by the obstinacy of count platof. axai is, nevertheless, the handsomest stanitza in the country. its balconied houses, painted in different colours, its port, the activity prevailing in it, its lively and bustling population, all excite the traveller's attention and curiosity. when i arrived in the town the inundations of the don were at their height, and as far as the eye could reach the waters covered the low plain that stretches along its left bank. we were soon furnished with a boat having on board a pilot and four excellent rowers, and at nine in the evening, we embarked to cross the river. the evening was perfectly calm and beautiful; and i shall never forget the lodkas with bellied sails, gliding down with the current, the melancholy songs of the russian boatmen, the sounds from axai gradually dying away in the distance, and our boat skimming across the smooth surface of the water, which broke in thousands of sparks from the oars. at midnight we landed before makinskaia, where we passed the remainder of the night on heaps of hay, in the court-yard of a paltry inn. at daybreak next morning, the saddle horses were ready, and we started for manitchkaia on the confluence of the manitch with the don. after some hours' riding we were brought to a halt by the overflow of the latter river; and for want of a better road to reach the stanitza, we were obliged to betake ourselves to wading through the temporary lake. this was the most unpleasant part of our journey. for a distance of more than four leagues our horses plodded on through thick mud with the water up to their bellies; and sometimes they were forced to swim. besides this, we were tormented by clouds of gnats. at last our situation became quite intolerable; for in the very middle of this passage we were assailed by a violent hurricane, the rain came down in torrents; our baggage waggon broke down, and we very nearly lost all its contents. the whole day was consumed in making the six leagues to manitchkaia. our kalmucks only succeeded in extricating the waggon from the hole in which it was stuck fast, by yoking one of their horses to it by the tail. this is an infallible means as we often found by experience; nothing can resist the violent efforts of the unfortunate horse when he finds himself in that predicament. leaving manitchkaia, we skirted along the basin of the manitch. the first dwellings we descried were some miserable tatar cabins, surrounded with brambles and thistles. we found in them an old tatar captain, a relic of the french campaign. he amused us a good deal by his pompous encomiums on the valour and tall stature of the prussians. a frenchman, said he, does not fear ten russians, but a prussian would settle at least ten frenchmen. for three days our journey was without interest. no traces of buildings were to be seen; at intervals there appeared in the middle of the steppes, a kalmuck tent, the inhabitants of which kept a large herd of horses; then here and there some strayed camels, and these were the only objects that broke the dreary monotony of the wilderness. but on the fourth day, we reached the vicinity of the great khouroul of the kalmucks, the residence of their high priest. one of our cossacks was sent forward to announce our visit, and an hour after his departure two priests came galloping up to us. after complimenting us in the name of the grand lama, they presented us with brandy distilled from mare's milk, in token of welcome, and fell in to line with our party. some minutes afterwards we descried the white tents of the khouroul. our party was every moment swelled by fresh reinforcements, and we had soon fifty horsemen caracoling by our sides. having reached the centre of the khouroul, we alighted, and then walking between two lines of priests dressed in garments of the most glaring colours, we were conducted to the high priest's tent. this venerable representative of the great dalai lama, was an old man upwards of seventy, entirely bald, and with features of a much less kalmuck cast than his countrymen. he was wrapped in a wide tunic of yellow brocade, lined with cherry red silk, and his fingers were busy with the beads of his chaplet. after many salutations on both sides we sat down on a sofa, and then, according to the invariable kalmuck usage, we were helped to brandy and koumis, a beverage at which my friend kloch made very queer faces. next, i presented the high priest with two pounds of bad tobacco, purchased at novo tcherkask, which i passed off as genuine latakieh. he was so delighted with my present that he did honour to it on the spot, with every mark of extreme satisfaction. this high priest will have the honour to be burned after his death, and his ashes, formed into a paste with a certain ingredient, will be worked into a little statue, which will adorn the temple to be erected to his memory. his successor is already nominated; he looks like a stupid fanatic, puffed up with the importance of his future dignity; we afterwards saw him acquit himself of his religious duties, with a conscientiousness quite rare among the cossack kalmucks. all the priests of this khouroul, appeared to us incomparably less devout than those of the volga and the caspian. they have very little reverence for their spiritual chief; they seem fully aware of the absurdities of their religious notions and ceremonies, and if they set any value by their functions, it is because they enable them to lead a life of indolence and sensuality, and exempt them from military service. the laity seems to be very indifferent as to religious matters. the women alone seem attached to their ancient principles; one of them burst into a fury because her husband allowed us to see and touch the leaves of her prayer-book. it is to their intercourse with the cossacks that we must attribute the lapse of these kalmucks from the strictness of the primitive rule, which has been preserved almost unimpaired among the kalmucks of the caspian. after leaving the high priest's tent we attended the religious ceremonies, in which there was nothing very striking. a sheep was afterwards killed in honour of our visit, and was served up, cut into small pieces, in a huge cast-iron pan. the ragout was black and detestable, but hunger made it seem delicious. the women of the vicinity arrived in the evening, and began to sing in chorus, parading round the khouroul. their strains were profoundly melancholy; nothing like them had ever yet struck my ears. their voices were so sonorous and vibrating, that the sound was like that of brazen instruments; and heard in that vast solemn wilderness, it produced the most singular impression. after walking half-a-dozen times round the khouroul the singers halted, and forming line with their faces towards the temple, they stretched out their arms and prostrated themselves repeatedly. the women having ended, next came the mandjis or musicians, who made the air resound with the braying of their trumpets at the moment when the sun was descending below the horizon. next day we left the khouroul to return to the banks of the manitch; i then continued my levelling along the course of that stream up to the point, where eighteen months before, on my way back from the caspian, i had been stopped by want of water and pasture. in our return journey we passed through numerous kalmuck camps on the right bank of the manitch, and were everywhere received with the liveliest delight. as all these nomades are exclusively engaged in rearing cattle, our curiosity was greatly excited by the prodigious herds of camels, horses, and oxen that covered the plain. before we reached the don we spent the last two nights in the lonely steppe, under the open sky. but six hours afterwards we were in taganrok, in the drawing-room of the amiable english consul, surrounded by all the comforts of civilised life. footnotes: [ ] we are quite convinced that the comans mentioned by the byzantine writers, are identical with the kaptschaks of the oriental historians. rubruck's narrative supplies proof of this; moreover both peoples spoke turkish. but in spite of all klaproth's assertions, we do not believe that the polovtzis of the slavic chroniclers were comans; for it seems to us far more rational to look for the descendants of the comans among the mussulman inhabitants of the south of the empire, who, as we learn from historic records, were already established in the same regions under the name of kaptschak, at the arrival of genghis khan's mongols. [ ] note that in our day the cossack population though augmented during a succession of ages, by numerous emigrations, does not exceed , souls; it must, therefore, in all probability, have been much less considerable in the fifteenth century, a supposition which further confirms our opinion that the cossacks never formed a distinct nation. [ ] according to du plan de carpin, the circassians do not appear to have escaped unscathed from the attacks of the mongols; but there seems no reason to think that they were really subjugated. [ ] since we left russia it has been proposed to equip the cossack regiments at the cost of the government. the country would, of course, in that case be taxed, and would cease to differ in any respect from the other provinces. chapter xviii. journey from novo tcherkask along the don--another knavish postmaster--muscovite merchants--cossack stanitzas. beyond novo tcherkask the road to astrakhan runs northward along the right bank of the don; the country still continuing the same naked and monotonous appearance; it is only in the neighbourhood of the river that its desolation is here and there relieved by a few clumps of trees in the ravines. it is certainly not without reason that the russians boast of the rapid travelling in their country; its posts would be unrivalled in europe were it not for the vexations practised by the _employés_ at the stations. on the whole we had hitherto had no great reason to complain; the official papers with which we were furnished smoothed many difficulties; but at the first station beyond novo tcherkask we endured the common fate of all who travel without titular grade or decoration, and were mercilessly fleeced. we arrived towards evening followed by another carriage of which we were but a few minutes in advance. a caleche without horses seemed a bad omen to us as we entered the court-yard; and the first answer given to our cossack was, that we could not have horses until the next morning. the prospect of passing the night in a miserable hovel was disagreeable enough; but what remedy had we with a postmaster, who opening all his stables, showed that he had no horses? after waiting a full half hour to no purpose our interpreter explored the vicinity of the station, and on his return, some rubles bestowed on the head of the establishment procured us all the horses we wanted. we put to and started immediately, leaving our companions behind us; but they overtook us an hour afterwards, having done like ourselves; and so it appeared at last, that there were horses enough for us all. the travellers who followed us were young muscovite merchants returning from some fair in the caucasus. they amused themselves all night with letting off rockets and all kinds of fireworks, the sudden flash of which, lighting up the deep darkness of the steppes, produced a most striking effect. we passed on the following day through several stanitzas. these cossack hamlets have a far more pleasing appearance than the russian villages. the houses of which they consist are small, almost all of them built of painted wood, with green window-shutters. they have only a ground-floor, surrounded by a miniature gallery, and look as if they were merely intended for pretty toys. the interiors are extremely neat, and show an appreciation of domestic comfort of which the russians betray no trace. you find in them table-linen, delf plates, forks, and all the most necessary utensils. the cossacks have usually two dwellings adjoining each other. one of these, that which we have been speaking of, is occupied in summer, and almost always contains one handsome apartment, adorned with stained paper, images, flowers, and groups of arms; it is the room used on grand occasions, and for the accommodation of strangers. the other dwelling is built of earth, and resembles the _kates_ of the muscovite peasants; it contains but one room, in which the whole family huddle themselves together in winter for the more warmth. in general, only women and children are to be seen in the stanitzas. the whole male population is under arms, with the exception of some veterans who have purchased, by forty years' service, the right of returning home to die. all the burden of labour falls on the women; it is they who must repair the houses, whitewash them, dress the furs, take care of the children, and tend the cattle. it is really inconceivable how they can accomplish so many laborious tasks. at piatisbanskaia, a charming stanitza, shaded by handsome trees, and rising in an amphitheatre on the banks of the don, we turned off from the post-road, and after crossing the river, entered on a sea of sand, through which we worked our way with immense difficulty. the peasants' horses are less used than those of the post to such toilsome marches, and it was really piteous to see their panting distress. the reflected glare of the sun, and the absence of any breath of wind, made this day's journey one of the most oppressive we encountered. it took us four hours to get over nine versts (less than six english miles). though i wore a thick veil and blue spectacles, my eyelids were so swollen i could scarcely open them. towards noon we at last reached a poor lonely village, where we rested until nightfall. the country from piatisbanskaia is dreary, and void of vegetation. the stanitzas are few and far between, the land lies waste, and the sand-hills and hot winds betoken the approach to the deserts of the caspian. nothing is more saddening to the imagination, than the lifeless aspect and uniform hues of these endless plains. one is surprised to meet in them, from time to time, some miserable cossack villages, and cannot tell how the inhabitants can exist amidst such desolation. this sad sterility is the work of men, rather than of nature. the present system of government of the don cossacks is an insuperable bar to agricultural improvement; and so long as it exists, the land must remain uncultivated. but, as we have already remarked, all is contrast in russia. extremes of all kinds meet there without any transition: from a desert you pass into a populous town, from a cabin to a palace, from a tatar mosque into an ancient christian cathedral, from an arid plain into the cheerful german colonies. surprises follow one upon the other without end, and give a peculiar zest to travelling, scarcely to be experienced in any other part of europe. it is particularly in approaching sarepta that one feels the force of these reflections: the novel impressions that there await the traveller who arrives benumbed in soul from the dreary wilderness, come upon him with the bewildering effect of a marvellous dream. even were sarepta whisked away, and set down in the middle of switzerland, one could not fail to be delighted with so charming a place; but to feel all its real excellence, one should come to it weary and worn as we were, one should have known what it was to long for a little shade and water, as for manna from the skies, and have plodded on for many days through a country like that we have described, under the unmitigating rays of a roasting sun. picture to yourself a pretty little german town, with its high gabled houses, its fruit trees, fountains, and promenades, its scrupulous neatness, and its comfortable and happy people, and you will have an idea of sarepta: industry, the fine arts, morality, sociability, commerce, are all combined in that favoured spot. the moravian colony, shut in within a bend of the volga, in the midst of the kalmuck hordes, eloquently demonstrates what miracles decision and perseverance can effect. it is the first shoot planted by europe in that remote region, amidst those pastoral tribes so jealous of their independence; and the changes wrought by the moravian brethren on the rude soil they have fertilised, and on the still ruder character of the inhabitants, give striking evidence of the benefits of our civilisation. every thing breathes of peace and contentment in this little town, on which rests the blessing of god. it is the only place i know in russia in which the eye is never saddened by the sight of miserable penury. no bitter thought mingles there with the interesting observations gleaned by curiosity. every house is a workshop, every individual a workman. during the day every one is busy; but in the evening the thriving and cheerful population throng the walks and the square, and give a most pleasing air of animation to the town. like most germans, the moravian brethren are passionately fond of music. the piano, heard at evening in almost every house, reminds them of their fatherland, and consoles them for the vicinity of the kalmucks. we visited the establishments of the moravian sisters, where, by a fortunate chance, we met a german lady who spoke french very well. the life of the sisters is tranquil, humble, and accordant with the purest principles of morality and religion. they are forty in number, and appear happy, as much so at least as it is possible to be in a perfectly monastic state of existence. consummate order, commodious apartments, and a handsome garden, make the current of their lives flow with unruffled smoothness, as far as outward things are concerned. music, too, is a great resource for them. we observed in the prayer-room three pianos, with which they accompany the hymns they sing in chorus. they execute very pretty work in pearls and tapestry, which they sell for the benefit of the community. there would be nothing very extraordinary in these details, if any other country were in question; we are afraid they will even be thought too commonplace; but if the reader will only reflect for a moment on the position of this oasis of civilisation on the far verge of europe, in the midst of the kalmucks and on the confines of the country of the khirghis, he will think our enthusiasm very natural and excusable. the only thing that rather offended our eyes was the would-be finery of the women's dress. would any one imagine that in this remote little corner of the earth they should be ridiculous enough to ape french fashions and wear bonnets with flowers? how preferable are the simple demure costume of the mennonite women and their little alsacian caps, to the mingled elegance and shabbiness of the moravian sisters. their dress is quite out of character, and makes them look like street ballad-singers. to give an idea of it, here follows an exact description of the costume of a fashionably-dressed young lady of sarepta (our host's daughter.):--a flowered muslin gown, short and narrow; a black apron; a large madras handkerchief on the neck; a patch-work ridicule carried in the hand; thick-soled shoes, bare arms, and a pink bonnet with flowers. to complete the portrait, we must add a very pretty face, and plump, well-rounded arms. the women here are much handsomer than in any other part of russia; many of them are remarkable specimens of the north german style of beauty. on the evening of our arrival we were advised to attend the funeral music performed as a last honour to one of the principal inhabitants of sarepta. the body was laid out in a mortuary chapel, with the family and numerous friends around it, and was not to be removed to the cemetery until the fourth day; an excellent custom, which may prevent horrible accidents. it would be difficult to imagine any thing more melancholy than the harmony produced by the voices and the brass instruments that alternately answered each other, and seemed the echoes of the saddest and most profound emotions of the heart. a great number of persons were present, and all the solemnity of the occasion did not hinder those worthy germans from gathering round us with the liveliest curiosity, and putting a thousand questions to us about the purport of our travels. the association of the moravian brethren dates from the celebrated john huss, who was burnt at constance, in . their history is but a long series of persecutions. the issue of the thirty years' war, so disastrous for frederick, the elector palatine, and king of bohemia, was particularly fatal to them. at that period most of the protestants of bohemia fled their country, and spread themselves through saxony, brandenburg, poland, and hungary. the vengeance of the emperor frederick ii. pursued them without ceasing, and great numbers of them perished in want and wretchedness. in , christian david, a carpenter, and some others of the proscribed, obtained permission from the count of zinzendorf, in lusace, to settle on his lands. they reached their place of refuge in secret, with their wives and children, and david struck his axe into a tree, exclaiming: "here shall the bird find a dwelling, and the swallow a nest." his hopes were not disappointed. the new establishment assumed the name of _herrenhut_ (the lord's keeping), and its members were soon known in germany only by that appellation. such was the beginning of the new evangelical society of the brethren of the unity of the confession of augsburg. herrenhut, the central establishment, throve rapidly, and became known all over europe for its industry and its manufactures; and by and by, when the proselytising spirit had possessed the brethren, they extended their relations over all parts of the world. shortly after the empress catherine ii. had made known to europe that russia was open to foreigners, and that she would bestow lands the immigrants, a deputation from herrenhut to st. petersburg decided on the formation of a moravian colony in the government of astrakhan. five of the brethren visited the banks of the volga in , and on the rd of september of the same year, the colony was settled at the confluence of the sarpa with the volga, and consisted at that time of thirty persons of both sexes. its name was borrowed from the bible, and an olive and a wheatsheaf were chosen for its arms. it was only by dint of courage and perseverance that these first colonists succeeded in their enterprise, surrounded as they were on all sides by the savage hordes of the kalmucks, having no knowledge of the language of the country, and situated at more than versts from any russian town. but after the first difficulties were surmounted, their prosperity was rapid. as we have already said, the moravian brethren form a vast society, spread throughout all parts of the world for the propagation of the gospel; but, moreover, for the better fulfilment of their mission they are all required by the rules of their order to know some trade, so as to be able to support themselves by the work of their own hands. hence sarepta soon became a seat of manufactures of all sorts, and an industrial school for the surrounding country, and catherine's intentions were realised. as for the brethren themselves, the establishment of an industrial town in a land so remote and so destitute of resources and markets, was for them but a secondary object. their chief aim was the conversion of the kalmucks, to accomplish which they thought rightly that it was indispensable to have a permanent settlement among those people. all their proselytising efforts, however, remained fruitless; the kalmucks were deaf to their instruction. it was not till that they succeeded in converting a few families, and inducing them to receive baptism. but now the russian clergy interposed, and insisted on the converts being baptised according to the greek rite, and finally, all the moravian missions were suppressed. ever since then sarepta has been a purely manufacturing town. the colony of sarepta endured great calamities in the beginning. in , the period of the famous emigration of the kalmucks, the brethren had a narrow escape of being carried into captivity, and were saved only by the mildness of the winter, which prevented their enemies from crossing the volga and joining the great horde. the cossack pougatchef ravaged the whole country in , and the colonists, in number, including women, were obliged to retreat to astrakhan. the defeat of the rebel shortly afterwards enabled them to return home. their town had been destroyed, but they were not disheartened, and it soon rose again from its ruins. a whole street was burned down in sarepta in , and in the same year they lost their warehouses in moscow, containing an immense stock of goods, in the great conflagration. but the most terrible disaster was that of , when two-thirds of the colony and the largest establishments were reduced to ashes; the loss was estimated at upwards of , _l._ the emperor alexander and the moravian association afforded the poor colonists generous aid, but they could never restore the old prosperity of sarepta. all these heavy blows falling successively on the unfortunate community, did not, however, prevent the development of its industry. great activity prevailed in its very various manufactories down to the beginning of the present century, and their productions continued to be in request in all parts of russia. some of the brethren established in the great towns of the empire were the active and honest correspondents of the volga colonists. the silks and cottons of sarepta were so successful that the weavers of that town formed establishments at their own cost among the german colonies of the government of saratof.[ ] but all these elements of wealth were annihilated by the new customs' regulations; most of the manufactories were closed; as for the rest, with one or two exceptions, being obliged to confine themselves to the production of a small number of articles, they can only subsist by dint of great economy and skill. the difficulty, too, of procuring workmen makes labour extremely dear in sarepta; and besides this the colonists instead of importing the raw materials direct from the foreigner, are obliged to purchase them in the markets of st. petersburg and moscow. the decrease in the waters of the sarpa has also been disastrous to the trade of sarepta. the brethren had set up a great number of saw and other mills on the banks, and these brought them large profits; but the want of water caused them all to be abandoned in . in noticing this continual struggle of man against nature and events, we cannot but pay the tribute of our admiration to those intrepid colonists, who, on the furthest verge of europe, in the arid steppes of the volga, have never suffered themselves to be overcome by their mischances, but have always found fresh resources in their own energy and perseverance. the manufacture of mustard is at present the most important branch of business in sarepta, producing nearly , kilogrammes yearly, besides kilogrammes of oil. this trade is not unimportant to the neighbouring villages, since it uses upon an average every year , kilogrammes of mustard seed, for which the manufacturer pays the peasant at the rate of . rubles the poud or thirty-three pounds. the other trades that are still carried on with some degree of success are the manufactures of silk and cotton tissues, stockings and caps, tobacco and tanned leather, but these are all upon a greatly reduced scale and at a greatly diminished rate of profit. there is also a very clever optician in sarepta, and there are several confectioners who travel to moscow. the colony possesses also warehouses of manufactured goods, and offers almost all the resources and conveniences of a good european town. agriculture can only be a secondary matter in the colony; of the , deciatines of land possessed by it are quite unfit for cultivation, , are salt, and only are really good. there is, however, a little village named schönbrunn, not far from the town, in which there are some families engaged in agriculture and cattle rearing. merino sheep have not done well with them hitherto. they had a large stock some years ago, but it dwindled away either from mismanagement, or from the severity of the climate, and at present does not exceed head. the brethren possess also numerous gardens along the sarpa, irrigated by water wheels, and producing all sorts of fruits and plants, but chiefly tobacco, and latterly indigo, which will no doubt become of great importance to the colony. the little town of sarepta has not changed much within the last eighty years: its buildings still present the same appearance as they did some years after the foundation of the colony; but the great industrial movements of former times have deserted it, and its streets are become lonely and silent. the fountain still flows on the same spot, and is still shaded by the same trees; but the blackened walls of the two finest manufactories, burnt down in the terrible fire of , and which the colonists have never been able to rebuild, make a singularly painful impression on the beholder, and tell too plainly that in spite of their courage and industry, events have been too strong for the moravians. all travellers who visit sarepta, and have an opportunity of appreciating the worth of its inhabitants, will certainly desire from their hearts a return of prosperity to this interesting colony: unhappily it is not probable that these wishes will be very speedily realised. the moravian community has augmented but little since ; for in it comprised but souls, viz., men and women; and even of these, only one half were natives of sarepta, the remainder being immigrants from abroad. many causes combine to keep down the population. in the first place, no colonist is allowed to marry, until he can prove the sufficiency of his means; both men and women, therefore, marry late in life, and large families are extremely rare. again, no brother can marry, if his doing so would cause any detriment to another; and all those who, by their misconduct, in any degree disturb the order and tranquillity of the colony, are banished and put out of the association. a sort of passport is given them for the government of saratof, and then they are at liberty either to enrol themselves as government colonists, or to enjoy their privileges as foreigners. lastly, after the great fire of , many of the brethren, discouraged by the loss of their all, left sarepta, and went to reside elsewhere. all these reasons, sufficiently account for the stationary condition of the population. of strangers to the association, there are in sarepta, thirty families of work people from the german colonies of saratof, forty russians, and twenty tatars; some fifty kalmuck kibitkas (tents) supply labourers for the gardens and for other works. there are now fifty-six stone and wooden houses in sarepta, and outside it, one stone and forty-nine wooden. its public buildings, are a church, with an organ and a belfry, and three large workhouses for bachelors, widows, and girls. these serve at the same time as asylums for orphans, and for all persons who have no families. there are also schools for the young of both sexes, in which the course of instruction is rather extensive, and includes the german, russian, and french languages, history, geography, and elementary mathematics. at first, sarepta was surrounded with ditches and ramparts, supplied with artillery and defended by a detachment of cossacks; but these military displays have long disappeared, and the worthy moravians are left alone to their own peaceful pursuits. in describing this interesting colony, we must not forget its numerous and delicious fountains. every street, every house has its own, the water being conveyed by wooden pipes underground into a common reservoir, whence it is distributed to all parts. nor will it be without a keen feeling of satisfaction that the weary traveller will stop at the sarepta hotel, where he will find a good bed and a good table, excellent wine, and all the comforts he can desire. the moravian brethren of sarepta justly enjoy much more extensive privileges than all the other colonists of russia: they pay to the crown but a slight tax per deciatine of land; and they have the right of trading in all parts of the empire and to foreign parts, as first guild merchants without paying any dues. they have their own perfectly separate administration, and all litigated affairs among them are settled by themselves, without the interference of any russian tribunal: if any disputes arise between them and their neighbours, they have recourse to the general committee of the german colonies of saratof, or in matters of weight, to the ministry in st. petersburg, through one of their brethren, who resides there as their agent. in cases of murder alone, they deliver over the criminal to the russian authorities. banishment is usually the sentence pronounced for other offences by the tribunal of the association, which consists of a mayor and two assistants, elected by the community, and who act also as administrators of the colony, and have under their orders an officer, who is responsible for all things pertaining to the town and country police. the public revenue is , rubles, produced by the rent of the fisheries and by special taxes; this money is spent in keeping up the public buildings, the schools, workhouses, &c. the habits of these colonists, their amount of education, and their religious principles, make a marked distinction between them and all the other germans in russia. we have seen few sectarians whose religious views are characterised by so much sound sense. while discharging their duties with the most scrupulous exactness, they avail themselves of the good things granted them by providence, live in a liberal and commodious manner, and surround themselves with all that can render life easy and agreeable. what struck us most of all, was to find invariably in the mere workman as well as in the wealthy manufacturer, a well-bred, well-informed man, of elegant manners and appearance, and engaging conversation. we spent but a few days in the colony, but our knowledge of the german language, enabled us quickly to acquire the friendship of the principal inhabitants; and when we left the town, our carriage was surrounded by a great number of those worthy people who came to bid us a last farewell, and to wish us a pleasant journey through the wild steppes of the kalmucks. footnotes: [ ] the german colonies of the government of saratof consist of villages, with a population of , ; in they produced , hectolitres of wheat, worth , paper rubles, and tobacco to the value of , . chapter xix. first kalmuck encampments--the volga--astrakhan--visit to a kalmuck prince--music, dancing, costume, &c.--equestrian feats--religious ceremony--poetry. at eight in the evening we left sarepta, delighted in the highest degree with the good moravian brethren, and the cordial hospitality they had shown us. at some distance from the colony, a dull white line, scarcely distinguishable through the gloom, announced the presence of the volga. we followed its course all night, catching a glimpse of it from time to time by the faint glimmering of the stars, and by numerous lights along its banks; these were fishermen's lanterns. there was an originality in the whole region that strongly impressed our imaginations. those numerous lights, flitting every moment from place to place, were like the will o' the wisp that beguiles the benighted traveller; and then the kalmuck encampments with their black masses that seemed to glide over the surface of the steppe; the darkness of the night; the speed with which our troïka bore us over the boundless plain; the shrill tinklings of the horse bells, and above all, the thought that we were in the land of the kalmucks, wrought us up to a state of nervous excitement that made us see every thing in the hues of fancy. at daybreak, our eyes were bent eagerly on the volga, that gleamed in the colours of the morning sky. from the plateau where we were, we could see the whole country, and it may easily be conceived with what admiration we gazed on the calm majestic stream, and its multitude of islands clothed with alders and aspens. on the other side of the river, the steppes where the khirgises and kalmucks encamp, stretched away as far as the eye could reach, till bounded by a horizon as even as that of the ocean. it would have been difficult to conceive a more majestic spectacle, or one more in harmony with the ideas evoked by the volga, to which its course of more than six hundred leagues assigns the foremost rank among the great rivers of europe. the post-road, which skirts the river as far as astrakhan, is difficult, and often dangerous. our driver was constantly turning his horses into the water, to prevent their sinking in a soil that undulates like the sea with every breath of wind. at intervals we encountered cossack villages almost buried under sandy billows, and many cabins entirely abandoned. this encroachment of the sands, which increases every year in extent, will soon change the already dreary banks of the volga into a real desert. no one can behold the sterility and desolation of these regions, without marvelling at the patience with which the cossacks endure a visitation that from year to year drives them from their cabins, and compels them to build new ones. for a length of more than sixty versts, the traveller finds his route shut in between the bed of the river, and moving hills of sand, whose dead monotony has a most depressing effect on the spirits. it is still worse at night, for then he seems surrounded with perils. no wonder if fear possesses him when he thinks that a plundering nomade horde may be lying in ambush behind those defiles which the darkness renders still more menacing; the cossack posts, however, which he meets from time to time along his road, contribute greatly to quiet his apprehensions. these cossacks were originally from the don, and were sent by the government to defend the frontiers of the volga against the incursions of the nomades. settling with their families, they founded several villages, and afterwards peopled samara, saratof, and other towns. there remains of these colonists only a military population, whose duty is limited to watching the movements of the khirgises from a distance, and protecting travellers. the soil affords them no means of practising agriculture, but they supply their wants by fishing. since our departure from sarepta, we were much surprised to find on this little frequented route much better horses than are met with on the main post-roads; the stations too seemed larger, more commodious and elegant, and every thing about them betokened attentive care on the part of the government. as we approached astrakhan, the sand-hills diminished insensibly in height, until they no longer confined the view. all this part of the steppe is bare of wood, and the salt sandy waste is only spotted here and there with pools of water and patches of wormwood. no sound is heard but the shrill cries of the petrels and wild geese that haunt the edges of the pools. here and there only we encountered numerous herds of camels going to drink the clear water of the volga, or wandering among the kalmuck kibitkas scattered over the steppes. at the last station but one, we were startled from our breakfast by the sound of military music, which for a moment threw the whole house into a state of revolution. we were ourselves very much puzzled to know what it meant, and jumping up from table we ran and saw--what? a steamer, no less, puffing and smoking, and lashing the astonished waters of the calm volga into foam. gay flags flaunted over its deck, which was crowded with passengers, and whence proceeded the sounds that had so surprised us. it passed before us, i will not say proudly, but very clumsily, by no means skimming along the water like a swallow. when we saw the crowded state of the deck, a thought struck us that the matter in some degree concerned ourselves, for as the steamer was from astrakhan, it was to be presumed that it carried several persons we had expected to see there. but our conjectures fell short of the reality, and our consternation was extreme, when the postmaster told us that the boat was conveying all the good society of astrakhan on a visit to a kalmuck prince, whose custom it was to give splendid entertainments at that season of the year. what made the thing still more vexatious, was, that many persons had already talked to us about the said prince, and strongly recommended us to go and see him. there could not have been a more favourable opportunity for indulging our curiosity; but we were compelled to forego it for want of a _podoroshni_[ ] entitling us to have horses on our way back. the russians are such rigid sticklers for forms, that nothing but strong motives of interest can make them swerve from the letter of their instructions. now it happened by a singular piece of ill-luck that our postmaster was an honest man after his fashion; that is to say, he would not depart a hair's breadth from his regulations to please any one. his stupid obstinacy was proof against all solicitations and bribes, and we gave up the tempting project of visiting the prince, whose palace we had passed a few hours before, about forty versts from the station. our best course under the circumstances would have been to hail the steamer, and go on board of it, but we did not think of this until we had lost much time with the postmaster, and then it was too late to overtake the steamer, notwithstanding its slow rate of moving. when we afterwards related our mischances to the governor of astrakhan, he blamed us much for not having at once thought of so simple an expedient. about four o'clock p.m. the same day, we came in sight of astrakhan. i cannot describe our sensations when from a large boat in which we embarked, we beheld the fine panorama of the city, its churches, cupolas, and ruined forts gradually coming forth to the view. situated in an island of the volga, its environs are not covered like those of most great cities, with villages and cultivated fields: no, it stands alone, surrounded by water and sand, proud of its sovereignty over the noble river, and of the name of star of the desert, with which the poetic imagination of the orientals has graced it. we had great difficulty in finding a lodging after we had landed, and though assisted by a police officer, we spent more than two hours in wandering from place to place, everywhere meeting with refusals. we were about cutting short our perplexities by taking refuge in a persian caravanserai, when chance came to our aid. a polish lady whom we fell in with, offered us the accommodation of her house, and with such good grace, that we could not hesitate to accept her civility. besides, our travels in russia had accustomed us to the sympathy with which every thing french is greeted by the poles. the last political events have not yet been able to weaken their good will towards us; they regard us as brethren, and are ready to prove it on all occasions. except some crown buildings occupied by the _employés_, there is nothing in astrakhan to remind us of its being under foreign sway. the town has completely preserved the asiatic physiognomy it owes to its climate, its past history, and its diversified population. it is built partly on a hill, partly on the plain, and several of its oldest portions stand on low spots intersected with marshes, and are exposed to very unwholesome exhalations during the summer, after the river floods. a canal with quays runs through its whole length. my husband's first proceeding after a hurried installation in our new quarters, was to call on m. fadier, the curator-general of the kalmucks, and try to obtain a _podoroshni_ as quickly as possible. he came back in an hour, and told me that we were to start that evening in a boat belonging to the admiralty, which was placed at our disposal. the governor, m. fadier, the port-admiral, and all the superior society of the place were visiting the prince, as we had before been told; but madame fadier had been kept at home by indisposition, and that lady, whose name will frequently appear in our reminiscences of astrakhan, obligingly removed all our difficulties. we embarked in the evening in the boat, with a crew of six stout kalmuck rowers and a tatta pilot. we expected to arrive at the prince's in the morning; but by some unaccountable chance i was seized all at once with a dread that obliged us to halt, in spite of our eager desire to reach our journey's end. the night was very dark, and the river, the waves of which made our boat reel, seemed to me boundless; yet all this was not enough to account for the insurmountable terror that took hold of me so capriciously. many sea-voyages and long excursions on the bosphorus in those light caïques that threaten to upset with the slightest movement, ought to have seasoned me against such emotions; but fear is a sentiment that cannot reason, and that comes upon us unawares, without any real danger to justify it. i must add, however, in palliation of my conduct, that the frequent lightning and the heaviness of the atmosphere foretold a storm; and no doubt had something to do with the nervous state in which i found myself. be this as it may, i could not rest until i had heard my husband give orders to put back into port, and the sequel proved that this was really the best thing we could do. the night was horrible: one of those terrific squalls that are so frequent and so dangerous on the volga, came on soon after we landed, and made me bless that terror of which i was at first ashamed, and which i was now tempted to regard as a secret presentiment of the danger that threatened us. at sunrise next day we set out by the post, and travelled till evening along that river on which i had been so much agitated. its appearance in the fresh, calm morning was little in accordance with my terror on the preceding day. the weather showed that brilliancy that always follows a storm in southern lands, and our spirits were such as to make our little trip exceedingly agreeable. the postmaster who had annoyed us so much the preceding day, could not help showing great surprise at our reappearance. he examined our new _podoroshni_ with scrupulous care, and having satisfied himself that it was quite as it ought to be, he was suddenly seized with great respect for us. the quickness with which we had obtained the paper, was plain proof to him that we were persons of importance. we left our post-carriage in the evening, and embarked; for we had still a dozen versts to travel on the river before reaching the prince's; but all the phantoms of the previous night had fled before the bright sun, and i stepped gaily into the boat thinking only of the pleasure of a long row over the limpid waves of the volga. but now a last vexation befel us; one would have fancied some evil genius was amusing himself with baffling all our arrangements, merely for the purpose of preventing our paying that visit on which we were so eagerly bent. our whole desire was to arrive at the prince's before the departure of the steamer; for as for the fêtes, we had already given up all thought of them. from what madame fadier had told us we were quite at ease, and never doubted but that we should find the whole company assembled in the kalmuck palace. fancy our dismay then, when our boatman suddenly called out 'the steamer!' pointing at the same time to a light smoke that rose above the trees. i am not very prone to superstition, but this obvious fatality was too much for my philosophy. here was the best part of the pleasure we had anticipated from this unlucky trip, struck from us at one blow, and that at the very moment when we flattered ourselves we had overcome all obstacles! the steamer passed proudly and triumphantly at a little distance from us, with its joyous music that seemed to insult our disappointment, and our poor little boat, tossed about like a nutshell by the surge of the confounded vessel, had not even the honour of being seen at first. some one at last condescended to notice us; a telescope was pointed in our direction, and we afterwards learned that our appearance gave rise to a multitude of conjectures, which, of course, were solved only in astrakhan. nothing remained for us but to bear our fate with philosophical composure; and we did so with the confident belief that luck, which had hitherto run so decidedly against us, must soon take a turn in our favour. forgetting, therefore, the steamboat, its music, and its brilliant company, we applied all our attention to the spectacle before us, which was certainly much better worth seeing than the prosaic steamer. the little island belonging to prince tumene stands alone in the middle of the river. from a distance it looks like a nest of verdure resting on the waves, and waiting only a breath of wind to send it floating down the rapid course of the volga; but, as you advance, the land unfolds before you, the trees form themselves into groups, and the prince's palace displays a portion of its white façade, and the open galleries of its turrets. every object assumes a more decided and more picturesque form, and stands out in clear relief, from the cupola of the mysterious pagoda which you see towering above the trees, to the humble kibitka glittering in the magic tints of sunset. the landscape, as it presented itself successively to our eyes, with the unruffled mirror of the volga for its framework, wore a calm, but strange and profoundly melancholy character. it was like nothing we had ever seen before; it was a new world which fancy might people as it pleased; one of those mysterious isles one dreams of at fifteen after reading the "arabian nights;" a thing, in short, such as crosses the traveller's path but once in all his wanderings, and which we enjoyed with all the zest of unexpected pleasure. but we were soon called back from all these charming phantoms of the imagination to the realities of life? we were arrived. our boatman moored his little craft in a clump of thornbroom; and whilst my husband proceeded to the palace with his interpreter, i remained in the boat, divided between the pleasure i anticipated from the extraordinary things to be seen in a kalmuck palace, and the involuntary apprehension awakened in me by all the incidents of this visit. the latter feeling did not last long. not many minutes had elapsed after the departure of my companions, when i saw them returning with a young man, who was presented to me as one of the princes tumene. it was with equal elegance and good breeding he introduced me to the palace, where every step brought me some new surprise. i was quite unprepared for what i saw; and really in passing through two salons which united the most finished display of european taste with the gorgeousness of asia, on being suddenly accosted by a young lady who welcomed me in excellent french, i felt such a thrill of delight, that i could only answer by embracing her heartily! in this manner an acquaintance is quickly made. the room where we took tea was soon filled with russian and cossack officers, guests of the prince's, and thus assumed a european aspect which we had not at all expected after the departure of the steamer. but was this what we had come to see? was it to look at russian officers, and articles of furniture of well known fashion, to take caravan tea off a silver tray, and talk french, that we had left astrakhan? these reflections soon yielded to the secret pleasure of meeting the image of europe even among the kalmucks, and being able without the aid of a dragoman to testify to the charming polish lady who did the honours of the drawing-room, the gratification her presence afforded us. the old prince tumene, the head of the family, joined us by and by, and thanked us with the most exquisite politeness for our obliging visit. after the first civilities were over, i was conducted to a very handsome chamber, with windows opening on a large verandah. i found in it a toilette apparatus in silver, very elegant furniture, and many objects both rare and precious. my surprise augmented continually as i beheld this aristocratic sumptuousness. in vain i looked for any thing that could remind me of the kalmucks; nothing around me had a tinge of _couleur locale_; all seemed rather to bespeak the abode of a rich asiatic nabob; and with a little effort of imagination, i might easily have fancied myself transported into the marvellous world of the fairies, as i beheld that magnificent palace encircled with water, with its exterior fretted all over with balconies and fantastic ornaments, and its interior all filled with velvets, tapestries, and crystals, as though the touch of a wand had made all these wonders start from the bosom of the volga! and what completed the illusion was the thought that the author of these prodigies was a kalmuck prince, a chief of those half-savage tribes that wander over the sandy plains of the caspian sea, a worshipper of the grand lama, a believer in the metempsychosis; in short, one of those beings whose existence seems to us almost fabulous, such a host of mysterious legends do their names awaken in the mind. madame zakarevitch soon made me acquainted with all i wished to know respecting the princes tumene and herself. her husband, who had long been curator of the kalmucks, died some years ago, a victim to the integrity with which he discharged his office. the employés, enraged at not being able to rob at their ease, combined together to have him brought to trial and persecuted him to his last moment with their base intrigues. his wife, who has all the impassioned character of the poles, has ever since been actively engaged in vindication of his memory, devoting time, money, and toilsome journeys, with admirable perseverance to that sacred task. a friendship of long standing subsists between her and prince tumene, with whose daughter and a lady companion she usually passes part of the summer. prince tumene is the wealthiest and most influential of all the kalmuck chiefs. in he raised a regiment at his own expense, and led it to paris, for which meritorious service he was rewarded with numerous decorations. he has now the rank of colonel, and he was the first of this nomade people who exchanged his kibitka for an european dwelling. absolute master in his own family (among the kalmucks the same respect is paid to the eldest brother as to the father), he employs his authority only for the good of those around him. he possesses about a million deciatines of land, and several hundred families, from which he derives a considerable revenue. his race, which belongs to the tribe of the koshots, is one of the most ancient and respected among the kalmucks. repeatedly tried by severe afflictions, his mind has taken an exclusively religious bent, and the superstitious practices to which he devotes himself give him a great reputation for sanctity among his countrymen. an isolated pavilion at some distance from the palace is his habitual abode, where he passes his life in prayer and religious conference with the most celebrated priests of the country. no one but these latter is allowed admission into his mysterious sanctuary; even his brothers have never entered it. this is assuredly a singular mode of existence, especially if we compare it with that which he might lead amidst the splendour and conveniences with which he has embellished his palace, and which betoken a cast of thought far superior to what we should expect to find in a kalmuck. this voluntary sacrifice of earthly delights, this asceticism caused by moral sufferings, strikingly reminds us of christianity and the origin of our religious orders. like the most fervent catholics, this votary of lama seeks in solitude, prayer, austerity, and the hope of another life, consolations which all his fortune is powerless to afford him! is not this the history of many a trappist or carthusian? the position of the palace is exquisitely chosen, and shows a sense of the beautiful as developed as that of the most civilised nations. it is built in the chinese style, and is prettily seated on the gentle slope of a hill about a hundred feet from the volga. its numerous galleries afford views over every part of the isle, and the imposing surface of the river. from one of the angles the eye looks down on a mass of foliage, through which glitter the cupola and golden ball of the pagoda. beautiful meadows, dotted over with clumps of trees, and fields in high cultivation, unfold their carpets of verdure on the left of the palace, and form different landscapes which the eye can take in at once. the whole is enlivened by the presence of kalmuck horsemen, camels wandering here and there through the rich pastures, and officers conveying the chief's orders from tent to tent. it is a beautiful spectacle, various in its details, and no less harmonious in its assemblage. after learning the reasons why we had not arrived two days sooner, madame zakarevitch very agreeably surprised us with the assurance that it was the prince's intention to have the _fêtes_ repeated for us. couriers had already been despatched to bring back the priests who had been engaged in the solemnities of the occasion, in order that we might have an opportunity of seeing their religious ceremonies. the day being now far advanced, we spent the remainder of it in visiting the palace in detail, and resting from the fatigues of our journey. at an early hour next day, madame zakarevitch came to accompany us to the prince's sister-in-law, who, during the fine season, resides in the kibitka in preference to the palace. nothing could be more agreeable to us than this proposal. at last then i was about to see kalmuck manners and customs without any foreign admixture. on the way i learned that the princess was renowned among her people for extreme beauty and accomplishments, besides many other details which contributed further to augment my curiosity. we formed a tolerably large party when we reached her tent, and as she had been informed of our intended visit, we enjoyed, on entering, a spectacle that far surpassed our anticipations. when the curtain at the doorway of the kibitka was raised, we found ourselves in a rather spacious room, lighted from above, and hung with red damask, the reflection from which shed a glowing tint on every object; the floor was covered with a rich turkey carpet, and the air was loaded with perfumes. in this balmy atmosphere and crimson light we perceived the princess seated on a low platform at the further end of the tent, dressed in glistening robes, and as motionless as an idol. some twenty women in full dress, sitting on their heels, formed a strange and parti-coloured circle round her. it was like nothing i could compare it to but an opera scene suddenly got up on the banks of the volga. when the princess had allowed us time enough to admire her, she slowly descended the steps of the platform, approached us with dignity, took me by the hand, embraced me affectionately, and led me to the place she had just left. she did the same by madame zakarevitch and her daughter, and then graciously saluting the persons who accompanied us, she motioned them to be seated on a large divan opposite the platform. no mistress of a house in paris could have done better. when every one had found a place, she sat down beside me, and through the medium of an armenian, who spoke russian and kalmuck extremely well, she made me a thousand compliments, that gave me a very high opinion of her capacity. with the armenian's assistance we were able to put many questions to each other, and notwithstanding the awkwardness of being obliged to have recourse to an interpreter, the conversation was far from growing languid, so eager was the princess for information of every kind. the armenian, who was a merry soul, constituted himself, of his own authority, grand master of the ceremonies, and commenced his functions by advising the princess to give orders for the opening of the ball. immediately upon a sign from the latter, one of the ladies of honour rose and performed a few steps, turning slowly upon herself; whilst another, who remained seated, drew forth from a balalaika (an oriental guitar) some melancholy sounds, by no means appropriate to the occasion. nor were the attitudes and movements of her companion more accordant with our notions of dancing. they formed a pantomime, the meaning of which i could not ascertain, but which, by its languishing monotony, expressed any thing but pleasure or gaiety. the young _figurante_ frequently stretched out her arms and knelt down as if to invoke some invisible being. the performance lasted a considerable time, during which i had full opportunity to scrutinise the princess, and saw good reason to justify the high renown in which her beauty was held among her own people. her figure is imposing, and extremely well-proportioned, as far as her numerous garments allowed me to judge. her mouth, finely arched and adorned with beautiful teeth, her countenance, expressive of great sweetness, her skin, somewhat brown, but remarkably delicate, would entitle her to be thought a very handsome woman, even in france, if the outline of her face and the arrangement of her features were only a trifle less kalmuck. nevertheless, in spite of the obliquity of her eyes and the prominence of her cheek-bones, she would still find many an admirer, not in kalmuckia alone, but all the world over. her looks convey an expression of the utmost gentleness and good-nature, and like all the women of her race, she has an air of caressing humility, which makes her appearance still more winning. now for her costume. over a very rich robe of persian stuff, laced all over with silver, she wore a light silk tunic, reaching only to the knee and open in front. the high corsage was quite flat, and glittered with silver embroidery and fine pearls that covered all the seams. round her neck she had a white cambric habit shirt, the shape of which seemed to me like that of a man's shirt collar. it was fastened in front by a diamond button. her very thick, deep black hair fell over her bosom in two magnificent tresses of remarkable length. a yellow cap, edged with rich fur, and resembling in shape the square cap of a french judge, was set jauntily on the crown of her head. but what surprised me most in her costume was an embroidered cambric handkerchief and a pair of black mittens. thus, it appears, the productions of our workshops find their way even to the toilette of a great kalmuck lady. among the princess's ornaments i must not forget to enumerate a large gold chain, which, after being wound round her beautiful tresses, fell over her bosom, passing on its way through her gold earrings. her whole attire, such as i have described it, looked much less barbarous than i had expected. the ladies of honour, though less richly clad, wore robes and caps of the same form; only they had not advanced so far as to wear mittens. the dancing lady, after figuring for half an hour, went and touched the shoulder of one of her companions, who took her place, and began the same figures over again. when she had done, the armenian urged the princess that her daughter, who until then had kept herself concealed behind a curtain, should also give a specimen of her skill; but there was a difficulty in the case. no lady of honour had a right to touch her, and this formality was indispensable according to established usage. not to be baffled by this obstacle, the armenian sprang gaily into the middle of the circle, and began to dance in so original a manner, that every one enthusiastically applauded. having thus satisfied the exigency of kalmuck etiquette, he stepped up to the curtain and laid his finger lightly on the shoulder of the young lady, who could not refuse an invitation thus made in all due form. her dancing appeared to us less wearisome than that of the ladies of honour, thanks to her pretty face and her timid and languishing attitudes. she in her turn touched her brother, a handsome lad of fifteen, dressed in the cossack costume, who appeared exceedingly mortified at being obliged to put a kalmuck cap on his head, in order to exhibit the dance in all its nationality. twice he dashed his cap on the ground with a most comical air of vexation; but his mother rigidly insisted on his putting it on again. the dancing of the men is as imperious and animated as that of the women is tame and monotonous; the spirit of domination displays itself in all their gestures, in the bold expression of their looks and their noble bearing. it would be impossible for me to describe all the evolutions the young prince went through with equal grace and rapidity. the elasticity of his limbs was as remarkable as the perfect measure observed in his complicated steps. after the ball came the concert. the women played one after the other on the balalaika, and then sang in chorus. but there is as little variety in their music as in their dancing. at last we were presented with different kinds of koumis and sweetmeats on large silver trays. when we came out from the kibitka, the princess's brother-in-law took us to a herd of wild horses, where one of the most extraordinary scenes awaited us. the moment we were perceived, five or six mounted men, armed with long lassoes, rushed into the middle of the _taboun_ (herd of horses), keeping their eyes constantly fixed on the young prince, who was to point out the animal they should seize. the signal being given, they instantly galloped forward and noosed a young horse with a long dishevelled mane, whose dilated eyes and smoking nostrils betokened inexpressible terror. a lightly-clad kalmuck, who followed them on foot, immediately sprang upon the stallion, cut the thongs that were throttling him, and engaged with him in an incredible contest of daring and agility. it would be impossible, i think, for any spectacle more vividly to affect the mind than that which now met our eyes. sometimes the rider and his horse rolled together on the grass; sometimes they shot through the air with the speed of an arrow, and then stopped abruptly, as if a wall had all at once risen up before them. on a sudden the furious animal would crawl on its belly, or rear in a manner that made us shriek with terror, then plunging forward again in his mad gallop he would dash through the taboun, and endeavour in every possible way to shake off his novel burden. but this exercise, violent and dangerous as it appeared to us, seemed but sport to the kalmuck, whose body followed all the movements of the animal with so much suppleness, that one would have fancied that the same thought possessed both bodies. the sweat poured in foaming streams from the stallion's flanks, and he trembled in every limb. as for the rider, his coolness would have put to shame the most accomplished horsemen in europe. in the most critical moments he still found himself at liberty to wave his arms in token of triumph; and in spite of the indomitable humour of his steed, he had sufficient command over it to keep it almost always within the circle of our vision. at a signal from the prince, two horsemen, who had kept as close as possible to the daring centaur, seized him with amazing quickness, and galloped away with him before we had time to comprehend this new manoeuvre. the horse, for a moment stupefied, soon made off at full speed, and was lost in the midst of the herd. these performances were repeated several times without a single rider suffering himself to be thrown. but what was our amazement when we saw a boy of ten years come forward to undertake the same exploit! they selected for him a young white stallion of great size, whose fiery bounds and desperate efforts to break his bonds, indicated a most violent temper. i will not attempt to depict our intense emotions during this new conflict. this child, who, like the other riders, had only the horse's mane to cling to, afforded an example of the power of reasoning over instinct and brute force. for some minutes he maintained his difficult position with heroic intrepidity. at last, to our great relief, a horseman rode up to him, caught him up in his outstretched arm, and threw him on the croup behind him. the kalmucks, as the reader will perceive, are excellent horsemen, and are accustomed from their childhood to subdue the wildest horses. the exercise we had witnessed is one of their greatest amusements: it is even practised by the women, and we have frequently seen them vying with each other in feats of equestrian daring. the lateness of the hour recalled us to the palace where a splendid dinner was prepared for us. two large tables were laid in two adjoining rooms, and at the head of each sat one of the princes. we took our places at that of the elder brother, who did the honours in the most finished style. the cookery, which was half russian, half french, left us nothing to desire as regarded the choice or the savour of the dishes. every thing was served up in silver, and the wines of france and spain, champagne especially, were supplied in princely profusion. many toasts were given, foremost among which were those in honour of the emperor of russia and the king of the french. i remarked with much surprise, that during the whole dinner, the princess seemed very ill at ease in presence of her brother-in-law; she did not sit down until he had desired her to do so, and her whole demeanour manifested her profound respect for the head of her family. her husband, the prince's younger brother, had been absent upwards of two months. the repast was very lengthened and great animation prevailed; whilst for our parts, we could hardly reconcile to our minds the idea that the giver of so sumptuous and so well-appointed an entertainment was a kalmuck. the prince put many questions to us about france, and talked with enthusiasm of his residence in our country, and the agreeable acquaintances he had made there. though he did not much make our current politics his study, he was not ignorant of our last revolution, and he expressed great admiration for louis philippe. after dinner we went in his carriage to visit the mysterious pagoda which had so much excited our curiosity. the moment we set foot on the threshold of the temple, our ears were assailed with a _charivari_, compared with which a score or two of great bells set in motion promiscuously, would have been harmony itself. it almost deprived us of the power of perceiving what was going on around us. the noise was so piercing, discordant, and savage that we were completely stupified, and there was no possibility of exchanging a word. the perpetrators of this terrible uproar, in other words the musicians, were arranged in two parallel lines facing each other; at their head, in the direction of the altar, the high-priest knelt quite motionless on a rich persian carpet, and behind them towards the entrance stood the _ghepki_, or master of the ceremonies, dressed in a scarlet robe and a deep yellow hood, and having in his hand a long staff, the emblem, no doubt, of his dignity. the other priests, all kneeling as well as the musicians, and looking like grotesque chinese in their features and attitudes, wore dresses of glaring colours, loaded with gold and silver brocade, consisting of wide tunics, with open sleeves, and a sort of mitre with several broad points. their head-dress somewhat resembled that of the ancient peruvians, except that instead of feathers they had plates covered with religious paintings, besides which there rose from the centre a long straight tuft of black silk, tied up so as to form a series of little balls, diminishing from the base to the summit. below, this tuft spread out into several tresses which fell down on the shoulders. but what surprised us most of all were the musical instruments. besides enormous timbrels and the chinese tamtam, there were large sea-shells used as horns, and two huge tubes, three or four yards long, and each supported on two props. my husband ineffectually endeavoured to sound these trumpets; none but the stentorian lungs of the vigorous mandschis could give them breath. if there is neither tune, nor harmony, nor method in the religious music of the kalmucks, by way of amends for this every one makes as much noise as he can in his own way and according to the strength of his lungs. the concert began by a jingling of little bells, then the timbrels and tamtams struck up, and lastly, after the shrill squeakings of the shells, the two great trumpets began to bellow, and made all the windows of the temple shake. it would be impossible for me to depict all the oddity of this ceremony. now indeed we felt that we were thousands of leagues away from europe, in the heart of asia, in a pagoda of the grand dalai lama of thibet. the temple, lighted by a row of large windows, is adorned with slender columns of stuccoed brickwork, the lightness of which reminds one of the graceful moorish architecture. a gallery runs all round the dome, which is also remarkable for the extreme delicacy of its workmanship. tapestries, representing a multitude of good and evil genii, monstrous idols and fabulous animals, cover all parts of the pagoda, and give it an aspect much more grotesque than religious. the veneration of the worshippers of lama for their images is so great, that we could not approach these mis-shapen gods without covering our mouths with a handkerchief, lest we should profane them with an unhallowed breath. the priests showed how much they disliked our minute examination of every thing, by the uneasiness with which they continually watched all our movements. their fear as we afterwards learned, was lest we should take a fancy to purloin some of those mystic images we scrutinised so narrowly; certainly they had good reason to be alarmed, for the will was not wanting on our part. but we were obliged to content ourselves with gazing at them with looks of the most profound respect, consoling ourselves with the hope of having our revenge on a more favourable occasion. when we returned to the palace, we found the old prince in a little room, of which he is particularly fond, and where he has collected a great quantity of arms and curiosities. among other things, we admired some circassian chaskas (sabres), richly adorned with black enamelled silver; damascus swords, no less valuable for the temper of the blades, than for the rich incrustations of the hilts and scabbards; florentine pistols of the fifteenth century; a jaspar cup of antique form, purchased for rubles of a persian nobleman; circassian coats of mail, like those of our knights of old, and a thousand other rarities, the artistic worth of which testify the good taste of a prince, whom many persons might consider a barbarian. he also keeps in this cabinet, as a thing of great price, the book in which are inscribed the names of those travellers who visit him. among the names, most of them aristocratic, we observed those of baron humboldt, some english lords, and sundry russian and german savans. we finished our _soirée_ with an extemporaneous ball that lasted all night. the armenian, who first proposed the scheme, had to undertake the business of getting up an orchestra. i know not how he set about it, but in a few minutes he brought us triumphantly a violin, a guitar, and a flageolet. such instruments among the kalmucks--is it not really prodigious? we had quickly arranged a _soirée dansante_, as complete as any drawing-room could exhibit; and the merriment soon became so contagious, that the princess and her daughter, after much hesitation, at last overcame all bashfulness, and bravely threw themselves into a heady gallop, in which, by the by, one of them lost her cap. the wondering and delighted princess, stuck to me for the rest of the night, like my shadow, and incessantly assured me, through the armenian, that she had never in her life passed so pleasant an evening, and that she would never forget it. she expressed a strong desire to hear me sing, and found the french _romances_ so much to her taste, that i had to promise i would copy out some of them for her. on her part, she gave me two kalmuck songs of her own composition, and transcribed with her own hand.[ ] according to russian custom, the officers did full justice to the champagne, which was sent round all night at a fearful rate. we spent the next day in promenades about the island, and in hawking. this sport is a great favourite with the kalmucks, and they practise it in as grand a style as the châtelains of the middle ages. prince tumene has a very well appointed falconry, and his hawks are trained by the same methods as were adopted by our ancestors. the hawk we had that day was a small one, of astonishing spirit. the kalmuck who held it hoodwinked on his fist had the utmost difficulty in restraining it when its head was uncovered. he let it fly at a magnificent grey heron, which it struck down in less than a minute. several wild ducks were also killed by it with incredible rapidity. the succeeding days were filled up with varied and novel amusements; nor can i describe the assiduous efforts of our entertainers, to let us see every particular of their manners and customs that might be interesting to us. every day some new surprise was adroitly brought forward to delay our departure. but, alas! every thing must have an end in this world, and we felt at last constrained to bid adieu to those brilliant and varied scenes which we found so much to our taste. on the day fixed for our departure we all breakfasted together, while the final preparations were going on. the party was a sad one, for all were occupied with the same thought. our host's elegant four-in-hand equipage, lined with white satin, was drawn up before the door, with an escort of fifteen horsemen. there was a large crowd assembled, who looked up eagerly to the large balcony, where we were receiving the stirrup-cup from the old prince. the whole formed a striking and splendid picture. the refinements of western luxury, mixed up with kalmuck faces and costumes, the officers in brilliant uniforms, the handsome horses champing the bit, and, above all, the noble figure of the old prince waving a last farewell to us from the balcony, left an indelible impression on our memories. young tumene put himself at the head of the cavalcade, and continued during all the while he was with us to astonish us with his feats of horsemanship. the day was splendid, and every thing concurred to awaken in us a throng of sensations, such as we shall never, perhaps, experience again. madame zakarevitch and her daughter, whom we had carried off from prince tumene, embarked with us, opposite the posting station, in the boat provided for us. on the shore, too, we found our carriages ready to receive us, horses having been ordered by an express sent forward the day before by the prince. on finding ourselves again on that route which we had twice already traversed within less than twenty-four hours, the recollection of our past annoyances after recurred to us, and we could not help thinking how unwisely many travellers allow themselves to be swayed by what they call inauspicious omens; a person, for instance, with a slight leaning to superstition, would have given up all thoughts of a visit which seemed forbidden by such a run of unlucky accidents, and would have lost the opportunity of seeing the extraordinary things i have endeavoured to describe, and which so much exceeded our expectations. footnotes: [ ] a sort of passport licensing you to hire post-horses. you pay a sum for it proportioned to the distance you wish to travel, and the number of horses to your carriage. [ ] here is a translation of one of these songs, which will certainly not give a high idea of the poetic talents of a kalmuck princess:-- "mon cheval roux qui dispute le prix de la course au chameau, bronte l'herbe des champs du don. dieu notre seigneur, tu nous feras la grace de nous retrouver dans une autre contrée. et toi charmante herbette agitée par le vent, tu t'étends sur la terre. et toi, o coeur le plus tendre volant vers ma mère, dis lui: qu'entre deux montagnes et des vallées, dans un vallon uni demeurent cinquante braves qui s'approchent avec courage pour tuer une outarde bien grasse. et toi, tendre mère nature, sois nous propice." [it is with much hesitation and doubt, that i venture to translate this incomprehensible translation:--_tr._] "my bright bay horse, which vies in swiftness with the camel, browses on the grass of the don. god, our lord, thou wilt grant us of thy grace to meet in another country. and thou charming little grass shaken by the wind, thou stretchest thyself out on the ground. and thou, o fondest heart, flying to my mother, tell her that between two mountains and valleys, in an even strath, dwell fifty braves, who draw together courageously to kill a very fat bustard. and thou, fond mother nature be propitious to us." chapter xx. historical notice of astrakhan--mixed population; armenians, tatars--singular result of a mixture of races--description of the town--hindu religious ceremonies--society. the history of astrakhan is so well known that the reader will no doubt thank us for not recapitulating the various political revolutions that have taken place in the regions of which this town has been for so many ages the brilliant metropolis. after having made part of the empire of the kaptshak, founded by batou khan, and after a long series of intestine commotions, astrakhan at last became an independent state in the beginning of the fifteenth century. one hundred and fifty years later there broke out between the russians and the tatars that obstinate strife which was to end by delivering the country of the tsars from the yoke of its oppressors. in , ivan the terrible, partly by treachery, and partly by force of arms, possessed himself of the khanat of the caspian, and was the first to assume the title of king of casan and astrakhan. this valuable conquest was incorporated with the empire, and led to the submission or emigration of all the adjacent tribes. astrakhan has ever since belonged to russia; but it soon lost the prosperity that had rendered it so celebrated of yore under the tatars of the golden horde. fifteen years after the russian conquest, the turks directed an expedition against astrakhan, in concert with the tatars of the crimea; but the effort was abortive, and the bulk of the ottoman army perished in the deserts of the manitch. towards the end of the seventeenth century, astrakhan again underwent a brief but bloody revolution: the rebel stenko razin, made himself master of the town, gave it up to horrible massacres, and for a while caused serious alarm to russia. at present the ancient capital of the tatar kingdom is merely the chief town of a government, which though presenting a surface of more than geographical square miles, yet possesses only , inhabitants, of whom , are nomades. it contains a great number of squares, churches, and mosques. its old embattled towers and its walls, which still include a considerable space of ground, remind the traveller of its ancient warlike renown. its population, a medley of all the races of asia, amounts in number to , , the bulk of whom are russians, kalmucks, and tatars. the armenians are shopkeepers here, just as they are in all countries in the world; notwithstanding their religion, which should make them coalesce with the westerns, they retain in their manners and customs every thing belonging to the east. the armenian carries everywhere with him that spirit of traffic which is common to him with the jew; always at work on some stroke of business, always ready to seize a flying opportunity; discounting, computing, figuring, with indefatigable patience. meet him where you will, in the fertile valleys of armenia, in the snowy north, or beneath a southern sky, everywhere he exhibits that intense selfishness which stands him in lieu of the patriotic feelings so potent in most other branches of the human family. this nation, dispersed over the whole world like the jews, presents one of those distinctive types of feature characteristic of an unmixed race, which are to be found in full preservation only among eastern nations. the brown mantle in which the armenian women wrap themselves at constantinople, is here replaced by long black veils that cover them from head to foot. this garment, which displays the shape very well, and falls in graceful folds to the feet, when well put on, reminds one of the elegant lines of certain grecian statues; and what makes the resemblance the more striking, is that the armenian women are particularly remarkable for their stately carriage and the severe dignity of their features. the tatars, upwards of in number, are engaged in trade, and chiefly in that of cattle. the numerous mosques and the cupolas of their baths contribute to give astrakhan quite an oriental appearance. the indians who were formerly rather numerous in this city, have long since abandoned the trade for which they frequented it, and none of them remain but a few priests who are detained by interminable lawsuits. but from the old intercourse between the hindus and the kalmucks has sprung a half-breed now numbering several hundred individuals, improperly designated tatars. the mixed blood of these two essentially asiatic races has produced a type closely resembling that of european nations. it exhibits neither the oblique eyes of the kalmucks, nor the bronzed skin of the indians; and nothing in the character or habits of the descendants of these two races indicates a relationship with either stock. in striking contrast with the apathy and indolence of the population among which they live, these half-breeds exhibit in all they do, the activity and perseverance of the men of the north. they serve as porters, waggoners, or sailors, as occasion may require, and shrink from no kind of employment however laborious. their white felt hats, with broad brims and pointed conical crowns, their tall figures, and bold, cheerful countenances, give them a considerable degree of resemblance to the spanish muleteers. this result of the crossing of two races both so sharply defined is extremely remarkable, and cannot but interest ethnologists. the mongol is perhaps above all others the type that perpetuates itself with most energy, and most obstinately resists the influence of foreign admixture continued through a long series of generations. we have found it in all its originality among the cossacks, the tatars, and every other people dwelling in the vicinity of the kalmucks. is it not then a most curious fact to see it vanish immediately under the influence of the hindu blood, and produce instead of itself a thoroughly caucasian type? might we not then conclude that the caucasian is not a primitive type, as hitherto supposed, but that it is simply the result of a mixture, the two elements of which we must seek for in central asia, in those mysterious regions of the great tibetan chain which have so much occupied the inventive genius of ancient and modern writers? the persians, like the indians, are gradually deserting astrakhan. the prohibitive system of russia has destroyed all their commercial resources, and now only some hundreds of them, for the most part detained by penury, are to be found in their adopted country, employed in petty retail dealings. we went over the vast persian khans of astrakhan, but saw none of those gorgeous stuffs for which they were formerly so celebrated. the ware rooms are empty, and it is but with great difficulty the traveller can now and then obtain cashmeres, silky termalamas, or any other of those productions of asia which so much excite our curiosity, and which were formerly a source of prosperity to the town. astrakhan has for some years had a lazaret on the mouths of the volga at seventy-five versts from its walls. the history of this establishment is curious enough. before it was built on the site it now occupies, building had been carried on to a considerable extent at two other spots which were successively abandoned as unsuitable. it was not until much time and money had been spent, that an engineer took notice of a little island exceedingly well adapted to the purpose, and on which the lazaret was finally erected. some years afterwards there was found in the town archives a manuscript note left by peter the great at his departure from astrakhan, and in which he mentioned that very island as well suited for the site of a lazaret. a glance had enabled the tsar to perceive the importance of a locality which many engineering commissions discovered only after repeated search. paving is a luxury quite unknown in astrakhan, and the streets are as sandy as the soil of the environs. though they are almost deserted during the day, on account of the intense heat, few spectacles are more lively and picturesque than that which they present in the evening, when the whole town awakes from the somnolency into which it had been cast by a temperature of . every one then hastens to enjoy the refreshing air of the twilight; people sit at the doors amusing themselves with the sight of whatever passes; business is resumed, and the shops are in a bustle; a numerous population of all races and tongues spreads rapidly along the bridges and the quays bordered with trees; the canal is covered with caïques laden with fruit and arbutus berries; elegant droshkies, caleches, and horsemen rush about in all directions, and the whole town wears a gala aspect that astonishes and captivates the traveller. he finds there collected into a focus all the picturesque items that have struck him singly elsewhere. alongside of a tatar dwelling stretches a great building blackened by time, and by its architecture and carvings carrying you back to the middle ages. a european shop displays its fashionable haberdashery opposite a caravanserai; the magnificent cathedral overshadows a pretty mosque with its fountain; a moorish balcony contains a group of young european ladies who set you thinking of paris, whilst a graceful white shadow glides mysteriously under the gallery of an old palace. all contrasts are here met together; and so it happens that in passing from one quarter to another you think you have but made a short promenade, and you have picked up a stock of observations and reminiscences belonging to all times and places. the russians ought to be proud of a town which did not spring up yesterday, like all the others in their country, and where one is not plagued with the cold, monotonous regularity that meets you without end in every part of the empire. the churches in astrakhan are not built in the invariable greek style of all the other religious buildings of russia: they have carvings, spires, and balustrades, something to attract the gaze, and details to fix it. the cathedral, built towards the end of the seventeenth century, is a large square edifice, surmounted by five cupolas, gilded and starred with azure, and presenting a style midway between those of asia and europe. the interior is hung with pictures of no value in point of art, but attractive to the eye from the richness of their frames, most of which are of massive silver curiously chased. the most interesting monument in astrakhan is a small church concealed in peter the great's fort. it is attributed to ivan iv. its architecture is purely moorish, and it is fretted all over with details exceedingly interesting to an artist. unfortunately, it has long been abandoned, and is now used as a warehouse. the climate of astrakhan is dry, and very hot. for three months the thermometer seldom falls in the day below . this great heat enervates both mind and body, and sufficiently accounts for the extreme sloth of the inhabitants. but in consequence of its dryness the atmosphere possesses a transparent purity that would enchant a painter, giving as it does to every object a warmth and lucidity worthy of italy. a very serious source of annoyance to the astrakhaners, and still more to the foreigner, is the swarm of gnats and other insects that fill the air at certain seasons. their pertinacious attacks baffle all precautions; it is in vain you surround yourself with gauze at night, and resign yourself to total darkness during the day, you are not the less persecuted by them, and you exhaust yourself with ineffectual efforts against an invisible enemy. they are sinking an artesian well in the upper part of the town. they had reached, when we were there, a depth of yards; but instead of water there escaped a jet of carburretted hydrogen, which had been burning for three weeks with great brilliancy. astrakhan now contains streets, squares, market-places, a public garden, wooden and earthen bridges, churches ( of stone, wooden), of which are cathedrals; mosques, of them of stone; houses, of which are of stone, the rest of wood. all narratives of travels tell of the gardens of astrakhan, and the magnificent fruit produced in them. unfortunately, these are pure fictions, for there are but gardens or vineyards around the town, and it is only by means of irrigation with persian wheels that they are rendered productive. all the fruit of the place, moreover, is very poor, if not decidedly bad. the grapes alone are tolerable and of very various kinds, suitable for the table, but none of them fit for making wine. as for the celebrated water-melons, they are held in very low esteem in the country, and the people of the town talk only of those of kherson and the crimea. it is very possible, however, that the fruit of astrakhan may have deserved its high reputation previously to the muscovite domination. here, as everywhere else, the russian population, in taking the place of the tatars, can only have destroyed the agricultural resources of the country. the russian townspeople being exclusively traders and shopkeepers, and never engaging in rural pursuits, the gardens almost all belong to tatars and armenians. as for the government of astrakhan, its territory is one of the most sterile in the empire. agriculture is there wholly unproductive; in general nothing is sowed but a little maize and barley, provisions of all kinds being procured from saratof, by way of the volga. it is this that gives some little briskness to the navigation of that river; for besides the corn consumed by astrakhan, and the towns dependent on its jurisdiction, saratof and the adjoining regions send supplies also to gourief, on the mouth of the ural, to the army cantoned on the terek, and even to the transcaucasian countries. nevertheless, there are no boats plying regularly on the volga; it is only at the period of the fair of nijni novgorod, that the clumsy steamer we saw proceeding to prince tumene's condescends to dawdle up the stream. the day after our arrival in astrakhan we were taken to the house of some hindu brahmins, where we were to be present at the evening prayers. we were received by the chief among them in the most courteous and obliging manner. the room into which he led us looked to the west, and had no other furniture than large turkish divans, and the only thing capable of attracting our attention was a little chapel let into the wall, and which two priests were in the act of arranging for the ceremony. one of them kept his eyes constantly turned towards the west, watching with religious attention the descent of the sun's disc to the horizon. these brahmins were dressed in long brown robes, crossed in front by a white scarf, the two ends of which swept the ground. their bronzed and antiquely moulded visages were surmounted by white muslin turbans with large folds. the leader, who was much less absorbed in his devotions than the rest, was continually smiling upon us, and waving a monstrous persian fan that had the effect of a smart breeze. meanwhile the sun was fast declining; at last its total disappearance was announced by the harsh sound of a conch-shell, whereupon one of the priests lighted several tapers and placed them before an image in the chapel. another began to wash curiously-shaped vessels, filled them with water of lustration, and prostrated himself before them with great unction. a large grey stone set in the wall, appeared to be the principal object of their adorations. according to the explanation given to us by the chief priest, the soul of a celebrated saint, grown weary of the world and of men, had retired within that mystical covering; hence the stone is sacred in the eyes of the hindus, and the mere sight of it, as they declare, is capable of working miracles. after worshipping in silence for some minutes, the chief priest began to burn perfumes, and the room was soon filled with a cloud of smoke, seen through which every object assumed a vaguer and more mysterious form, the pungent aromatic odour, combined with the heat and the strangeness of the scene before our eyes, acted so strongly upon us that we were soon unable to distinguish what was real from what was fantastic. in fact, our semi-ecstatic condition was in remarkable accordance with the moral state of our brahmins. their religious enthusiasm soon ceased to content itself with mere prostrations. hitherto every thing had passed in complete silence, but at a given signal two priests knelt down before the holy stone and recited a prayer, in slow and guttural accents. another with his arms crossed on his breast, stood a few steps off from the chapel, and now and then blew upon a shrill whistle. the fourth, armed with a conch-shell, stood upon one of the divans, and added his voice to the sounds which his companions gave out with increasing loudness. presently their eyes kindled, the muscles of their frames grew tense, the conch vibrated, a bell was rapidly agitated by the leader, and then began so strange and infernal a din, a scene so grotesque and wild, that one would really have thought the brahmins were all possessed by devils. their attitudes and frantic gestures conveyed the idea of exorcism rather than of prayer. what we felt it would be impossible to describe; it was a mixture of surprise, curiosity, disgust, and fright. had not fatigue compelled the actors in this sabbat to stop after ten minutes' exertion, i doubt that we should have been able to support a longer continuance of such a spectacle. one would almost be disposed to say that men take pains to worship god in the least religious manner possible. i have seen the whirling and howling dervishes at constantinople, whose strange and frightful performances can be compared only to those of the medieval convulsionaries. the religious music of the kalmucks is not behind-hand with these aberrations of the human mind; and here is the hindu, worship, which seems to vie with whatever is most demented and extravagant in other religions. when the abominable concert was ended, the leader took a handful of yellow flowers, like marigolds, dipped them in ganges water, and presented one to each of us. then he kneaded a piece of dough in his hands, and gave it a symbolic form, stuck seven small tapers in it, waved it in every direction before the chapel, and then turning towards us, repeated the same ceremony. lastly, he took a small white shell, which had been lying until then on the sacred stone, filled it with sacred water from the ganges, and sprinkled us with it very devoutly. meanwhile, his companions were setting out a table with a collation of fine fruit and pastry, of which the leader did the honours to us with much politeness and gallantry. so ended a scene as difficult to describe well as to forget. now let us leave the indians and their odd ceremonies, and recur to the european usages, which, to our great surprise we found in many _salons_ of astrakhan. a singular thing, and one which must strike the traveller strongly, is the moral influence which france exercises in all countries of the world. wherever you find any trace of civilisation, you are sure to discern the effect of that influence, whether in manners, dress, or political opinions, and that, even among rulers the most distant. most of our romance-writers are probably not aware that their works are read with avidity even on the banks of the caspian, and are criticised there with as much acuteness as in the great capitals of europe. all who call themselves russians, in astrakhan, speak french, and receive every month our newest publications from brussels. in many of the libraries i found lamartine, balzac, alexandra dumas, eugène sue, george sand, de musset, &c., and many other names less known perhaps in paris than in astrakhan. the russian ladies read a great deal; they are generally gifted with natural talent, and converse with tact and to the purpose. their only fault in this respect is, that they confine their reading to romances and novels, which almost always warp their judgment, and give them quite erroneous notions of our habits and our literature. paul de kock and pigault lebrun are especial favourites throughout the empire, and their pictures of low life are read much more eagerly than the elegant and chastened pages of our best writers. i must acknowledge, however, that many russian ladies are capable of appreciating the gravest works. i saw on many a table in astrakhan, "les ducs de bourgogne," "l'histoire du bas empire," "la conquête des normands," and even treatises on geology. it is needless to add, that our fashions and the prodigies of our civilisation are adopted with the same avidity as our literature. i had some difficulty in believing myself on the verge of the caspian, when listening to conversation on the fine arts, and on industrial economy, just as in vienna or paris. music, too, is in high vogue in astrakhan, and many of donizetti's pieces are sung there by brilliant and cultivated voices. our quadrilles, too, are all the rage there, and so are the charming melodies of loïza puget. on the faith of some travellers who have been, or are reported to have been in astrakhan, we expected to find a good many english, italians, and even french in the town; but the fact is, it does not even contain a single individual of those nations, and its society consists solely of russians and germans, sent thither as _employés_. i could hear of but one belgian, formerly a prisoner of war, who became a tailor, and now enjoys a very handsome fortune. astrakhan pretends to have a theatre, but i have little to say for it. imagine a very ugly and very black hall furnished with some thirty niches in double row; a pit adorned with a few dirty caftans; an orchestra composed of a paltry violin and half-a-dozen trumpets, the whole lighted up by a row of candles on the proscenium, and you have an idea of what presumes to call itself a theatre on the caspian shores. as for the pieces and the actors, they are altogether beneath criticism. the governor gave a grand ball and some soirées during our stay in astrakhan. though the heat was intolerable, the rooms were every time filled with a fashionable throng, always eager for pleasure. the russian governors of provinces play the part of petty kings, and exercise over all classes an influence, which has its source in the very constitution of the country. under an absolute government, every superior employé exercises unbounded authority in his own sphere. he has his courtiers, his favourites, his numerous chancery, his orderly officers, and his etiquette modelled on that of st. petersburg, in short all that constitutes the outward tokens of power. but all these appearances of grandeur and might are but relative, for above these petty kings stands a sovereign will, that can by one word strip them of their privileges, and send them to siberia. we must not imagine that slavery exists in russia only for the people; whether you go east or west, into the brilliant salons of st. petersburg, or into the isbas of the muscovite peasant, you find it everywhere; only it is commonly disguised under forms that deceive many travellers, whose judgments are beguiled by the glittering varnish with which the russian contrives to invest himself, by his numerous staff, his princely abode, and the pomp of his official life. and yet what is all this in reality? something like the soap bubbles that glisten with all the colours of the rainbow, but vanish with the least breath. the magnificence of the governor's palace astonished us. on our arrival for the ball, after passing through several rooms sumptuously furnished, we were led into a boudoir, where we found madame timirasif, the governor's lady, surrounded by all the _élite_ of the place. she introduced me to several ladies who spoke french very well, and with whom i was soon engaged in a conversation as frivolous and varied as the chit-chat of the parisian world of fashion. but the music soon began, and we repaired to a very large ball-room, most splendidly lighted, and already thronged with officers. the orchestra, placed on a raised platform, played french quadrilles in excellent style. i took advantage of an interminable mazurka, to learn the names of various personages: general brigon, a livonian, hetman of all the cossacks; count pushkin, curator of the university of casan; admiral lazaref; the kalmuck prince, tondoudof; the princess dolgoruky; and a young persian, who occupied the attention of all the ladies during the ball. his handsome oriental countenance, his rich costume, the grace with which he danced french quadrilles and mazurkas, and above all, his title of traveller, gave him an extraordinary éclat, which seemed in no wise to astonish him. i will say nothing of a collection of colonels and aides-de-camp, an inevitable and always profuse element of every russian party, nor of a battalion of excellencies loaded with more stars and decorations than are commonly seen in the court balls of france or england. the governor's wife is a specimen of the russian lady in the highest perfection of the class. elegant, lively, fascinating, and _pleine de distinction_, she possesses all the qualities requisite in the queen of a drawing-room. she did the honours of that remarkable _soirée_ with charming grace. the ball ended with a grand supper, which was prolonged until morning. we passed fifteen well-spent days in astrakhan. notwithstanding the heat, we were running about from morning till night, escorted by an aide-de-camp, whom his excellency had assigned to us as cicerone. this very obliging officer being perfectly well acquainted with the country, and being incessantly on the look-out for any thing that could interest us, it came to pass that in eight days we had a much better knowledge of the town than the governor himself. one thing alone escaped our search, namely, one or two families of parsees, who still inhabit astrakhan, but whom our guide could not succeed in ferreting out. it was in vain he hunted about and questioned every body; no one could give him any precise information on the subject. _soirées_, cavalcades, numerous dinners, and above all, a pleasing intimacy with many agreeable families, filled up our tourist existence in the most charming manner, and made us postpone as long as possible a departure, which was to snap asunder such pleasing social ties. it would be impossible to surpass the active kindness shown us by the governor and all the best society of astrakhan. during our whole stay the governor put his caleche at our disposal, and was imitated in this by many other persons. but notwithstanding all these temptations to prolong our abode, we were obliged at last to set in earnest about arrangements for our journey across the kalmuck steppes. our first care was to provide all that was indispensable to prevent our dying of hunger on the way. an expedition of this kind is like a long sea voyage; the previous cares are the same; one must enter into the same sort of details as the sailor who is bound for a distant shore. we laid in a great stock of biscuits, rice, oil, candles, dry fruit, tea, coffee, and sugar, and sent them forward with our escort to houidouk, a post station near the caspian, where my husband was to begin his series of levels. this escort, consisting of ten camels with their drivers and some cossacks fully armed, had been selected by the governor and m. fadiew, with a carefulness that proved how much they were both concerned for our safety. i cannot sufficiently express my gratitude for all the kindness they showed us on this occasion; their anxiety about the result of so hazardous a journey betrayed itself by numberless precautions and recommendations, which might have had some influence on our determination if it had not been irrevocably fixed. the governor chose from among his best officers, a tatar prince to command our escort. this young man, who was an excellent sportsman, had a hawk, from which he was inseparable, and to this circumstance was owing the orders he received to accompany us. general timirasif, always mindful of the privations that awaited us, thought he could not do better than furnish us with so clever a purveyor; who, indeed, proved to be of immense assistance to us. when he presented the officer to us, with his hawk on his fist, his face beamed with satisfaction. "now," he said, laughing, "my conscience is at ease; here i give you a brave soldier for your champion, and a travelling companion, who will not let you be starved to death in the wilderness." orders were sent forward in advance, along all the line we were to traverse as far as haidouk, that we should be supplied with horses at every station without delay. chapter xxi. commercial position of astrakhan--its importance in the middle ages--its loss of the overland trade from india-- commercial statistics--fisheries of the caspian--change of the monetary system in russia--bad state of the finances--russian political economy. there is no city, perhaps, of eastern europe, which has played a more important part than astrakhan in the commercial relations between europe and asia. situated at the lower extremity of the largest navigable river of europe, it communicates on the one side by the caspian with turcomania and the northern regions of persia; on the other side, by means of the volga and the don, it is in direct intercourse with the central provinces of the muscovite empire, and the whole coast of the black sea. with such facilities for traffic, astrakhan would naturally be one of the chief points of transit for indian goods during the middle ages, when the passage by the cape of good hope was unknown, and european navigators had not yet appeared in the persian gulf. it was towards the middle of the thirteenth century, after the foundation of the kaptshak empire, and of the kingdom of little tartary, that the caspian sea became a highway for the indian trade, with which, in still earlier times, the petchenegues, the predecessors of the tatars in the tauris, appear not to have been altogether unacquainted. astrakhan on one side, and soldaïa on the black sea on the other, became the two great maritime places of the tatars, and exchanged between them the merchandise of europe and asia, by means of the caravans of the kouban and the volga.[ ] from soldaïa the indian goods were next conveyed to constantinople, where they were sold either for the provinces of the empire, or to foreigners trading in that capital. afterwards, about , when the genoese took possession of the coasts of the tauris, soldaïa lost its commercial importance, and the splendid colony of caffa became the centre of all the asiatic commerce. mercantile relations with india assumed fresh activity at that period, particularly when, after the dissolution of the empire of the kaptshak, in the reign of hadji devlet cherii, the genoese became masters of tana, on the don. the whole trade in spices, aromatic and medicinal drugs, perfumes, silks, and other productions of the east in request in europe, fell thus into the hands of those intrepid italian speculators, whose connexions by way of the caspian, the persian gulf, and the caravans, extended as far as the indies. but soon a new tempest burst forth, more terrible than any of those which had before shaken the soil of the east. in , mahomed ii. seized constantinople, and twenty years later all the genoese colonies fell one after another into the power of the ottomans. it was in vain the venetians strove to appropriate the commerce of the black sea and the east; their efforts were fruitless, and the closing of the dardanelles was peremptorily declared. the old communications between europe and asia were thus severed, and for many years the precious commodities of the east ceased to find their way towards europe. but as they were in great demand, and were very costly, merchants contrived to find a new passage for them, and smyrna became their entrepôt. the situation of that town, however, was far from compensating for the disadvantage of a long, perilous, and expensive land carriage. hence the indian trade remained in a languid state, until vasco de gama's discovery opened a new route for the people of the west. smyrna retained the monopoly of the eastern trade for more than years; and until the middle of the seventeenth century, persia was the first entrepôt for indian productions, which arrived there by way of the persian gulf, afghanistan, and beloochistan. they were partly consumed in the country, and the rest was conveyed either to smyrna by erzeroum and bagdad, or into russia by the caspian sea and georgia. in consequence of this great commercial revolution, the regions now constituting the south-eastern provinces of russia, lost all their importance with regard to the traffic between europe and asia. the great entrepôts of caffa and tana having fallen into decay, all the routes leading to them were forsaken. the great caravans of the volga and the kouban disappeared, the navigation of the caspian was almost annihilated, and astrakhan was reduced exclusively to local commerce with the adjoining districts of russia. a hundred years after the taking of constantinople, ivan the terrible planted his victorious banner on the shores of the caspian, and the old city of the tatars of the golden horde fell under the muscovite sway. ever since that event, historians have had to record but a long series of disasters, mistakes, and decadence. it appears, however, that under the reign of ivan the terrible and his next successors, astrakhan still continued to supply russia with the productions of persia, and with some of those of central asia. an english company even attempted, about the year , to open up a commercial intercourse with persia and turcomania by way of the caspian, but failed completely; and subsequently the appearance of the dutch and british flags in the persian gulf, and the immense development of the maritime commerce with india, for ever extinguished, for astrakhan, the hope of recovering its former position. the navigation of the caspian was completely abandoned, and the few asiatic goods which russia could not dispense with were conveyed to that country by expensive and perilous overland routes. accordingly, when alexis michaelovitz ascended the throne about the middle of the seventeenth century, how to arrive at persia by sea was almost become an unsolved problem. to this prince belongs, however, the honour of the first effort made by russia to re-establish the commerce of the caspian. a maritime expedition was undertaken from astrakhan in , under the direction of dutch seamen; but it failed completely, in consequence of the revolt of the cossacks, and the successes achieved by their leader, stenko razin. after this ineffectual attempt, things reverted to their old state, and the commercial history of this part of the empire presents nothing remarkable until the accession of peter the great. the trade with asia was not forgotten under that illustrious regenerator of the muscovite nation, who bent all the force of his genius upon the affairs of the east. filled with the grand design of making the merchandise of asia pass through his dominions, he repaired in person to astrakhan, inspected the mouths of the volga, selected a site for a quarantine establishment, and set dutchmen to work to turn the shores of the caspian to profitable account, until such time as political circumstances should enable him to found establishments by force of arms on the russian coast. but the brilliant expeditions beyond the caucasus subsequently made by russia led to no commercial result. central asia continued as of old to communicate with europe by way of smyrna and the indian ocean; and after peter's death russia gave up all her pretensions to the southern shores of the caspian, over which she had entertained strong hopes of establishing her dominion. eventually the extension of the russian possessions southward to the kouban and the terek, and eastward to the ural, was not without its fruits. the safety secured to travellers caused the trade with persia by way of georgia to revive in some degree. astrakhan was again visited by persian and hindu merchants, and by caravans from khiva and bokhara; the western and eastern shores of the caspian were again frequented by vessels, and the numerous nomade hordes, of asiatic habits, that then occupied the steppes of the volga and the kouma, contributed not a little to give animation to the commercial interchange between russia and the transcaucasian regions.[ ] in the reign of catherine ii. the russians reappeared once more beyond the caucasus on the caspian shores; but it was not until alexander's time that their sway was definitively established in those asiatic regions. once mistress of a vast country conterminous with persia and turkey, and washed both by the caspian and the black sea, russia evidently commanded every possible means for developing to her own advantage a trade between europe and most of the western regions of asia. by way of the caspian and the volga she could supply all her central provinces with persian silks and cottons, dye-stuffs, and drugs; besides which she could monopolise the profit on the transit of goods to the fairs of germany and down the danube. at first the russian government seemed disposed to favour the establishment of all these great mercantile relations; but it did not long persist in its liberal course. it soon began to practise restrictive measures, thus paving the way for the grand system of proscription which it afterwards adopted. in the beginning of alexander's reign the old trade with persia still subsisted, and the russians continued to buy cottons of excellent quality, at very low prices, in mazanderan, a province situated on the caspian.[ ] the merchants used then to make their payments in ducats, that gold coinage being a _sine quâ non_ in all bargains. but the exportation of ducats was prohibited in and , and thenceforth the persians refused to trade, not choosing to accept silver coin. the english merchants, always prompt to seize advantageous opportunities, immediately entered the markets of mazanderan, the cottons of which, purchased by them at low prices, reached europe by way of the persian gulf. at first they paid in ducats; but england soon substituted for specie cloths, and all other kinds of goods suitable to the inhabitants of that part of persia. it was especially during the war of that the english led the persians to adopt their various manufactures. the stop put to the russian trade opened the eyes of the ministry, who soon revoked the measure concerning ducats, but the mischief was done; commerce had already run into a new channel. severe as was this lesson it produced no lasting effect. in order to favour a single moscow manufacture, a duty equivalent to a prohibition was imposed on foreign velvets _in transitu_ for persia, and thenceforth an article for which there was so important a demand, ceased to be an item in the russian traffic with persia. in , the russian government seemed to be disposed to wiser views, and allowed european goods free entrance into the ports of georgia. thereupon, a great transit trade rapidly sprang up between turkey, persia, and the great german fairs, by way of radzivilov, odessa, redout kaleh, and tiflis. this new and very promising line of communication had but a brief duration, for ten years afterwards, russia, in her infatuation, destroyed all these magnificent commercial elements, as we have already shown. she closed the transcaucasian provinces against european goods, and thus gave an immediate impulse to the prosperity of her formidable competitors in trebisond, which soon surpassed the establishments on the persian gulf, and became the principal port in persia and the point of destination for english goods, to the annual value at present of more than two millions sterling. the trebisond route having been once adopted, the trade in drugs and dye-stuffs was likewise lost for russia. it is scarcely conceivable with what perverse obstinacy the russian government has persisted in its course, in defiance of all warning; and whilst the people of persia and turkey in asia, were forsaking their old commercial routes for new markets, russia has gone on making her prohibitive system more and more stringent, even to the extent of excluding the common pottery, an immense quantity of which was formerly sent from khiva and bokhara to astrakhan, for the use of the tatars and kalmucks. it was through the effect of such measures as these that astrakhan lost all trace of its former greatness. in it contained only forty-eight merchants of the first guild, including women and children, and had but forty-eight vessels belonging to its port. of these forty-eight vessels, having a total tonnage of about nine millions of kilogrammes, eleven belonged to the crown, twenty-five were the property of private individuals, and were employed as government transports; there remained, therefore, for trade only twelve vessels, one-third of which were unemployed. the vessels belonging to the other ports of the caspian in connexion with astrakhan, such as baku and salian, were eight in number, with a tonnage of , kilogrammes, besides about sixty coasters, tonnage unknown. such is the deplorable condition to which the trade and navigation of the caspian have been reduced by an exclusive government, which would never consent to understand the reciprocal nature of traffic, but foolishly hoped to preserve its commercial intercourse with nations whose productions it rejects, and to which it refuses even the transit of the foreign goods they require. do what she will, russia will never succeed in adequately replacing for the mussulmans of the south of the empire the manufactures of asia, which are peculiarly adapted to their habits and their wants, or in inducing the transcaucasian countries to adopt her own sorry manufactures. the spread of english commerce, moreover, in the western regions of asia is now a historical fact, and russia cannot possibly check it unless she become mistress, some time or other, of constantinople. it is true she may compete in some hardware goods with the higher-priced productions of england; but the asiatics are excellent judges of such matters; they are seldom tempted by mere cheapness; on the contrary, experience proves that they prefer the english goods, the soundness and high finish of which they fully appreciate. but even though the russian goods were as well made as the english, the prohibitive system of the empire, and the refusal of transit to european merchandise, would still be sufficient to deprive the country of all export trade in the caspian; for the people of asia will always give the preference to those commercial relations which afford them opportunities for exchanges suitable to their wants, along with the advantages of a more extensive demand. the trade of the two russian ports of the caspian in , was as follows:-- exports. imports. duties. rubles. rubles. rubles. astrakhan , , , , , baku , , , , --------- --------- ------- , , , , , which gives for the whole caspian a general circulation of about , , rubles. the trade has still continued to decline since . we find it stated in the journal of the ministry of the interior, that the whole exports of the russian transcaucasian provinces, by the black sea, the caspian, and overland, amounted in , to but , , rubles,[ ] whilst the imports by the caspian, did not exceed , , rubles, nearly a million less than in . in the same year persia supplied, by the overland route, goods to the amount of , , rubles to the caucasian provinces. now these goods consisted, according to the documents of the government itself, not of raw materials, but almost entirely in silk and cotton fabrics. the fact is, that notwithstanding the high duties of the imperial tariff, the people of asia, who know nothing of the fantastic changes of fashion, always prefer the durable productions of the persian looms to the flimsy tissues which russia offers them, at very high prices, in consequence of the great remoteness of moscow, the only seat of manufactures in the empire. again, the persians, finding that russia can supply them with but few articles suited to them, keep all the raw materials produced in their country, and those which reach them from central asia, to exchange them for the european goods, which are now briskly and abundantly supplied in trebisond and tauris. thus the ghilan[ ] silks, the mazanderan cottons, the gall-nuts of kurdistan, the tobaccoes of shiraz, the gums, dye-stuffs, saffron, &c., have completely deserted the caspian, and the route from tiflis to redout-kaleh, for that by way of erzeroum and trebisond. another circumstance in favour of this new line is the low rate of carriage and duties in turkey; the latter never exceed three per cent. for europeans, and four per cent. for persians; but in reality merchants seldom pay more than half that amount. altogether the transit from constantinople does not augment the first cost of goods by more than ten per cent. hence it is easy to infer how difficult it is for russia, whose manufacturing power is still so inconsiderable, to contend with the other european states in the markets of persia, and how grossly it blundered when it voluntarily annihilated all transit trade through its dominions, in the vain hope of forcing its own productions on the transcaucasian countries. one of the most curious things connected with the destruction of all these elements of wealth is the petty artifices practised by the ministry to make europe, and the head of the government, believe that the extension of commerce is nowhere more sedulously pursued than in russia. for instance, the fort of alexandrof has been built on the north-east coast of the caspian, under the pretence of providing a receptacle for the imaginary caravans from khiva and bokhara. unfortunately, the locality affords neither fresh water nor wood, nor any one necessary; accordingly, as might have been foreseen, it has not been visited by a single caravan. the garrison consists of men, and requires to be constantly renewed in consequence of its suffering by scurvy; the commandant is obliged to procure fresh water from the mouths of the ural, which is conveyed to him in packet-boats. the fort has not even proved of use for the protection of the fishery which is carried on not far from its site. the soldiers cannot venture from their redoubts without incurring the risk of being carried off by the khirghis. more than eighty russian fishermen were made prisoners in by those nomades, and sold in khiva and bokhara. it is well known what hopes peter the great built on the black sea, the caspian, and the countries situated beyond the caucasus. it remains for us briefly to discuss the question, whether it will ever be possible for russia to make the indian trade return to its old route. now that navigation has made such amazing progress, now that the establishment of steamboats on the euphrates and the red sea, is a solved problem, and the cost of freight by sea is exceedingly reduced, we think there is no longer a chance for russia to divert the course of the indian trade, and make it pass through her own dominions. russia is conterminous with the chinese empire, and has long enjoyed certain and regular communication with it; and yet the english find it very profitable to sell in odessa, and all the south of russia, tea brought them by ships that double the cape of good hope. it is evident that russia is in a still worse position with regard to india than to china. should the russians ever become masters of the sea of azof, they might, perhaps, penetrate to bokhara and samarkand by way of the rivers sir daria (iaxartes) and amore daria (oxus). this was one of peter the great's grand conceptions. but the reiterated attempts that have been made in khiva, always to no purpose, prove plainly that conquests are not easily to be made in those regions, and that such armies as those of our day are not fitted to traverse the steppes of the khirghis and turcomans. and how were it possible, besides, to establish as regular and cheap communications with india, by way of persia or bokhara, as those which now exist by sea? it seems, therefore, evident that peter the great's projects are become chimerical at this day, and that all the efforts russia can ever make by herself, will be unable to change the course of the indian trade. it is only in case of a long maritime war that she could hope to bring the productions of central asia to the black sea, thence to be distributed over continental europe. but apart from this trade, there was still a vast field to be wrought: in like manner as the east indies are become, commercially speaking, dependencies of great britain, so persia and turcomania might have become tributaries to russia, had not the latter, blinded by her vanity and jealous ambition, to adopt her deplorable system of prohibition, and destroyed the whole european transit trade which was establishing itself by way of the ports she possesses on the black sea. our facts and figures have clearly proved that the decay of the navigation of the caspian has accompanied that of the asiatic trade; it is important, however, to give some notion of the nature and employment of the vessels actually in use on the caspian and the volga. these vessels are divided into five classes, according to the character of their build. the first comprises ships that visit all the ports of the caspian indiscriminately; the second, those that ply only in the neighbourhood of astrakhan; the third, those that confine themselves to the mouths of the volga from astrakhan to the sea; the fourth, the river boats that never quit the volga; and the fifth, those belonging to the persian provinces. the ships that visit the ports of the caspian are called _shkooutes_, and their hulls are not unlike those of dutch vessels. they are built of bad timber, and in defiance of all rules. their number, though greatly exceeding the demands of commerce, is not above eighty; they gauge from to _hectolitres_. shipowners generally buy old hulls in nijni novgorod, and turn them into shkooutes, without ever reflecting that their craziness and want of regularity makes them exceedingly dangerous as sea-going vessels. and then the command of them is given to ignorant pilots, who fill the office of captains in all but the name. the crews consist of from ten to sixteen, and these being chosen by the sole test of cheapness, the result is that the navigation of the squally and formidable caspian is in very bad repute among merchants, and will inevitably be abandoned altogether. the shkooutes are employed in conveying russian and persian goods, and the workmen, materials, provisions, and produce, belonging to the fisheries situated between salian,[ ] siphitourinsk, akhrabat, and astrabad,[ ] and in carrying victuals and stores to the garrisons in the eastern parts of the caucasus. of all these transports, those of the crown alone afford the shippers any chance of profit. the russian authorities and merchants themselves confess that there is no longer any thing to be got by conveying merchandise from astrakhan to persia. twenty years ago the freights obtained for heavy goods were from . rubles, to per pood, and from to rubles for light and bulky goods. now the freight for the former does not exceed from to copeks, and that of the latter never amounts to one ruble. the return charges cannot be stated with accuracy, since they depend on the quantity of goods to be shipped, and the number of vessels ready to load. it often happens that the captains put up their services to auction, and end with losing instead of gaining. this diminution in the charges for freight is evidently the consequence of the superabundance of vessels, of the frequent shipwrecks which cause a preference for land carriage, and of the small amount of importation into the persian provinces. the vessels that ply on the caspian in the vicinity of astrakhan are known in the country by the name of _razchiva_. they differ very little from the shkooutes, and cost from to rubles. sailors distinguish them into two classes, _manghishlaks_ and _aslams_, the former of which take the name from the port[ ] whence they formerly carried to astrakhan the goods brought by the khiva and bokhara caravans. this traffic was monopolised by tatars, who alone had nothing to fear from the khirghis and turkmans, when they landed. in , there were but eight manghishlaks, half of which were unemployed. these little vessels carry from to hectolitres. the other class of razchivas, designated by the tartar word _aslam_ (carrier--_voiturier_), are used to convey household vessels, victuals, timber, and articles requisite for the fisheries. they ply to kisliar,[ ] gourief,[ ] and tchetchenze,[ ] and traverse all the north-western parts of the caspian, from the volga to terek, their principal cargoes being commissariat stores for the troops in the caucasian provinces. they bring back wine, rice, and kisliar brandy, which is much esteemed in the country. the number of these razchivas does not, however, exceed fifty. they can make five trips in the year. these vessels are much more profitable to their owners than are shkooutes. in reality they are but coasters, and as they seldom venture out of sight of the shore, they are much less exposed to wreck. moreover, in addition to their astrakhan freights, they keep up an exchange trade in eatable commodities with the nomades of the caspian shores. they are also employed in the fisheries of the emba and of tchetchenze, though the fishermen generally prefer smaller vessels. the vessels that ply in the mouths of the volga are some of them decked, some open. the former, which need to be of a certain strength, carry goods directly on board the shkooutes in the offing, whereas the latter stop a little distance from the mouth of the river. both are really lighters. the water is so low near the mouths of the volga, as well as in all the northern part of the caspian, that the shkooutes are obliged to put to sea empty from the port of astrakhan. about twenty miles from the shore they take in half their cargo, which is brought to them in open lighters, nor can they complete their loading until they are or miles from the embouchure, where they are met by decked vessels whose draught of water does not exceed thirteen feet. the lighters generally belong to petty captains, who realise a good profit by them; but a large proportion of them are lost every year. the boats that float down the volga to astrakhan from the interior, are of extreme diversity of construction. the most remarkable are the _kladnyas_, which are distinguished above all the rest by their solidity and their dutch build. they have but one enormously tall mast with two sails, one of which is attached to a boom twice as long as the hull of the vessel. next after them come the _beliangs_, flat boats built entirely of deal, and not pitched either within or without. besides these there are an infinity of smaller boats, which it is unnecessary to describe. all these boats convey goods from astrakhan to nijni novgorod, saratof, and other places, and _vice versa_, charging for freight from ten to thirty kopeks per pood, according to distance. they arrive at astrakhan at stated times, namely, in may, july, and september. the steamboat that makes one trip every year between astrakhan and nijni novgorod, takes from forty to fifty days to ascend the river, and a fortnight to return. the navigation of the volga, appears by the sailors' accounts, to be growing more difficult every year; some parts of the river are already impracticable for boats of a certain draught. indeed the fact seems clearly ascertained that the volga has undergone a great diminution of volume within the last century. the vessels belonging to the persian provinces resemble the russian shkooutes, with this difference, that no pitch is used in their construction, but their timbers are so accurately joined as to admit no water. it is superfluous to say that the persian shipping is in a still worse position than that of russia. if to these statistical details we add that all the russian goods are conveyed by land to the caucasian provinces of the empire, no more will be wanting to show how deserted is the caspian sea. the manual industry of astrakhan shares, of course, the decay of its commerce. the metropolis reckoned fifty-two manufacturing establishments in , viz.: one for silks, two for cotton cloths, twenty dyeing-houses, ten tanyards, two candle manufactories, three soap manufactories, twelve tile manufactories, one tallow melting-house, one rope-walk; workmen were employed in all these establishments. it was the fisheries of the volga that in reality furnished the population with all the means of subsistence; they are still the chief resource of the country, and it would seem as though nature had wished to compensate astrakhan for the sterility of its soil, by rendering the waters that wash it more prolific than any others in fish.[ ] the waters in which the fishing is carried on are private property, or farmed out by the crown and the towns, or they are free to all comers. the most productive spots belong to the princes kourakin, youssoupof, besborodko, &c. the crown fisheries were formerly commercial property; they are now leased to one individual, along with those belonging to the district capitals of the government of astrakhan. the waters of astrakhan, though belonging to prince kourakin, have nevertheless been gratuitously conceded to the town. they yield for the most part only small kinds of fish, which are consumed by the inhabitants themselves. the fisheries of the emba have been free since . they comprise miles of the caspian coast, from the mouth of the ural to mentvoi koultouk, and take their name from the river emba. they belonged formerly to the counts koutussof and soltykov. by virtue of a decree, dated march , , fishery of all sorts, including that of seals, is free in the maritime waters of tchetchenze. the island of that name, lying not far from the gulf and cape of agrakhan, contains vast establishments for smoking, salting, and drying fish, and numerous dwellings occupied by the fishermen. the fishery here lasts all the year through, and yields beluga,[ ] common sturgeon, salmon trout, silurus,[ ] and two varieties of carp. it has been the custom of the seal-fishers from time immemorial not to destroy any of those animals before the th of april; whoever infringes this rule is deprived of all his booty by his comrades, who divide it among themselves. war is waged upon the seals in five different ways. in summer they are hunted on the islands and netted in the sea; in winter they are shot, or killed with clubs on the ice, or at the breathing-holes they break through it. in summer the seals weigh thirty pounds, in autumn about sixty, and in winter often ninety-six. the permanent fisheries are called _vataghis_ and _outshoughis_; the places where they are temporary are called _stania_. an outshoughi consists in a barrier of stakes planted across the river, and sometimes wattled. below this barrier the apparatus called in russian _samoloff_, is placed in the current. it is a cord hung with short lines and hooks, and the business of the fisherman consists in examining the lines, and taking off the fish that are hooked. these are immediately taken to a shed built on piles at the waterside, where they are cut up; the roes, the fat, and the nerves are afterwards conveyed to places where they undergo the processes necessary to fit them for commerce. as the lines of stakes hinder the fish from ascending the river, the government has for some time prohibited the use of outshoughis, and also of the lines and hooks, by which it is found that scarcely one fish is taken out of a hundred that swallow the bait; the rest escape though wounded, and thus perish uselessly. the invention of these barriers is ascribed to the tatars of the khanat of astrakhan. as fish was an important article of commerce between them and the russians, it may be presumed that they adopted this means to keep the fish from ascending to the upper portions of the volga. the vataghis, usually placed on the heights above the shore, are cellars in which fish is salted and dried. before the door there is always a platform sheltered by a screen of reeds, where the fish are cut up and cleaned. nets, some of them several hundred yards in length, are exclusively used in these establishments. it is forbidden, however, to stretch them across the entire width of the river. the fishing season is divided into several distinct periods. the first, which extends from march till may, that is from the breaking up of the ice to the time of flood, is called the caviar season; it is the most important and most productive of the caviar and isinglass. the second occurs in july when the waters have sunk within their ordinary bed, and the fish having spawned, are returning to the sea. the third, from september to november, is the season when the beluga, sturgeon, and sevriuga[ ] return to the deepest parts of the river. these fish are also taken in winter by nets of a peculiar form. at that time of year the fishermen of the coasts often travel over the ice for dozens of miles from the land. every two men have a horse and sledge, and carry with them yards of net, with which they capture belugas, sturgeons, silures, and even seals under the ice. these expeditions are very dangerous. the wind often drives the ice-blocks on a sudden out to sea, and then the loss of the fishermen is inevitable, unless the wind chops round and drives them back to land. old experienced fishermen allege that the instinct of the horses forewarns them of these atmospheric changes, and that their uneasiness puts their masters on their guard against the danger; according to the same authorities, the moment the animals are yoked they turn of their own accord towards the shore, and set off thither with extraordinary speed. the fishermen of astrakhan reckon three classes of fish. the first they call red fish, which includes the beluga, the sevriuga, and the sturgeon. the second consists of white fish, such as the salmon-trout, the bastard beluga, the sterlet,[ ] the carp or sazan, the soudak,[ ] and the silure. to the third class belong all those designated by the general name of _tchistia_, _kovaya_ or _riba_, either on account of the closeness of the nets employed to take them, or of their habits of entering rivers in very dense shoals. they are small fish, which are little prized, and are salted for the consumption of the interior of the empire. the government fishing board has the general control of the fisheries, grants the requisite licences, superintends the election of the headmen, sends out inspectors to maintain order, and collects information as to the produce of the fisheries. in , men employed in fishing, and in taking seals, with boats, brought in , sturgeons, , sevriugas, and , belugas: these yielded tons of caviar, and about tons of isinglass. there were also taken soudaks, and the enormous quantity of , seals. the sturgeon fishery alone produces about , , of rubles annually, but the expenses are very considerable. the revenue derived by the government from the fisheries of the volga amounts to , paper rubles. the celebrated imperial ukase appointing a uniform monetary system throughout the empire, was promulgated during our stay in astrakhan, and afforded us a fresh opportunity of beholding the amazing impassiveness of the russians, and their extreme incapability of self-assertion. the change was certainly excellent in itself, and loudly called for by the circumstances of the country, but the manner of carrying it into effect caused a loss of eighteen per cent, to all holders of coin. in astrakhan, the voice of the public crier sufficed at once, and without warning, to reduce the ruble piece to . , that of . to . , that of ruble to . , and that of . to . ; and immediately after beat of drum, the law was carried into full force on all commercial transactions. it must not be supposed, however, that this inert resignation of the tzar's subjects is merely the result of their profound reverence for whatever emanates from the omnipotence of their sovereign. every one of them is fully and keenly sensible of his loss, and if no voice is uplifted against such ministerial spoliations, the cause abides in that total absence of will and reflection which we have already had many occasions to point out as a distinguishing trait of the russian character. for our own part we cannot but highly approve of the idea of establishing a complete uniformity in the value of coinage, for the variations of value which the same coin formerly underwent in passing from one government to another were exceedingly injurious to trade. we think, however, that the change might have been accomplished by more legal and less violent means. it is true, that by acting as he did, count cancrine was sure of realising a gain of eighteen per cent., and this, it may be presumed, was the principal motive that actuated him. be this as it may, this was not the first time the russian government took such a course; every one knows that in , the silver ruble fell abruptly to the value of a paper ruble, entailing a loss of seventy-one per cent. on all holders of government bills, who received but a paper ruble for every silver ruble represented by the bills. this state of things lasted until , when the old system was restored. the present government paper, having for its basis a real coin, the silver ruble, worth . paper rubles (about _s._ _d._), consists of notes for , , , and even , rubles. these notes are extremely small, and the government must inevitably realise a large profit annually by their wear and tear and loss. it is likewise very possible that the ministry of finance had no other motive for creating these new notes, than that of preparing means to repeat the bankruptcy of ; and seeing the actual state of the imperial treasury, there is no doubt that such an act of bankruptcy would be committed in case of war. never was the state so oppressed with debt as it is at this day. the war in the caucasus, the grand military parades, and the payment of a countless host of diplomatic agents, avowed and secret, all absorb immense sums, and the ministry is consequently reduced to miserable shifts to make up the deficit, and restore the balance of the finances. the proposal of a great military expenditure was discussed in the imperial council of , and was opposed with reason by cancrine, on the too real ground of want of money. the emperor, chafed by an opposition to his wishes such as he was not used to, ordered the grand treasurer to produce all his accounts, that the matter might be investigated in council. next day the accounts were examined in presence of the tzar and his ministers. one item excited great surprise; an enormous sum was set down as expended, but how or wherefore it was spent was not stated. the emperor yielding without reflection to a sudden impulse of anger, commanded cancrine to explain what had become of the money, and the minister, who had taken his precautions beforehand, instantly laid before his master a note in which were revealed some singular mysteries. it was, they say, after this memorable sitting that all public works were immediately stopped, the stamp duties were quadrupled, the charge for passports centupled, and new notes payable to the bearer, were issued for more than , , of silver rubles. such are the expedients that constitute the genius of the ministry, and which count cancrine thought it right to employ to augment the financial resources of the country. i recollect an anecdote that exactly typifies the notions of that statesman. i was once in the house of a moldavian landowner of bessarabia, whose lands bring him in about , rubles a year. the conversation turned on agriculture. "what!" exclaimed a russian who was present, "your estate yields you but , rubles a-year? nonsense; put it into my hands and i warrant you twice as much."--"that would be a very agreeable thing, if it could be done," said the landlord; "i flatter myself i am tolerably well versed in these matters, and yet i have never been able to discover any possible means of increasing my income."--"how many days do your peasants work?" said the russian.--"thirty."--"that's not enough: make them work sixty. what breadth of land do they till for you?"--"so much."--"double it." and so he went on through the other items of the inquiry, crying, "double it! double it!" we could not help heartily laughing. but the russian remained perfectly serious, and i am sure he thought himself as great a man as cancrine himself; i really regret that i did not ask him, had he taken lessons in economics in the office of that illustrious financier. footnotes: [ ] notwithstanding the assertions of most geographers, we are of opinion that the communications between soldaïa, kaffa, and astrakhan generally took place by way of the don and the volga. many reasons seem to confirm this opinion. had it been otherwise, the genoese would not have attached so much importance to the possession of tana, on the mouth of the don. furthermore, the route by the banks of the terek and the kouban, skirting the northern slope of the caucasus, being much longer as well as more dangerous, by reason of the neighbourhood of the caucasian tribes, preference would naturally have been given to the route by the don and the volga, which passed only through tatar countries, inhabited by the same people as the traders, and subjected to the same government. it seems confirmatory of this opinion that in the expedition of sultan selim against astrakhan, in , part of the turkish army marched by that very route. the line of the manitch must have been little frequented on account of its almost total want of drinkable water. [ ] among the various nomade hordes then encamped on the soil of southern russia, the kalmucks alone numbered more than , families; at the same period the crimea alone had a population of more than , . but these regions have undergone a remarkable change since peter the great's time. a large portion of the kalmucks have emigrated to china, and the mussulman tribes have lost at least nine-tenths of their population. it may easily be conceived how injurious to the trade with persia and central asia has been the disappearance of these asiatic races. [ ] the best cotton of persia is grown on the slopes of the elbrouz. these regions might easily supply russia annually with an average of , , kilogrammes of cotton, at to centimes the kilogramme on the spot. [ ] among the articles exported by russia, the following are to be estimated at the approximative values annexed to them: cotton cloths, , rubles; woollens, , ; linens, , ; iron, , to , ; various metal wares, , , and wheat , . [ ] in , ghilan exported more than , , rubles worth of silk to trebisond. [ ] salian is a port on the caspian, at the mouth of the coura (the ancient cyrus). the roadstead is tolerably good, and the fisheries are important. an immense quantity of sturgeons are caught. [ ] astrabad on the southern coast of the caspian, between persia and turkistan, is in regular and easy communication with all the regions of persia, khiva, and bokhara. it is the true key to all the commerce of asia by way of the caspian; hence it was an object of special attention for peter the great and catherine ii. [ ] manghishlak is not a town but merely a port, at which vessels used formerly to touch to trade with the nomades of that part of the coast. it is now entirely abandoned; the few vessels which still visit these parts, stop at tuk karakhan, near the old landing place, whence goods are conveyed on camels to khiva in twenty-eight days. [ ] a town on the caspian, at the mouth of terek, celebrated for its brandy. [ ] a town at the mouth of the ural. it belongs to the cossacks of the ural, and contains upwards of a hundred houses. [ ] an island not far from the gulf of agrakhan. [ ] the particulars that follow as to the fisheries of the caspian, were communicated to us at astrakhan. neither the weather nor the season allowed us to be present at those interesting operations. [ ] the _beluga_ of the russians is the great sturgeon (_piscis ichthyocolla, accipenser huso_), its weight often amounts to lbs. [ ] _silurus glanis_, a fish unknown in france. i have found it in the danube, the volga, and the dniepr, where its voracity and strength make it formidable to bathers. [ ] accipenser stellatus. [ ] a. ruthenus. [ ] perca asper. chapter xxii. departure from astrakhan--coast of the caspian--hawking-- houidouk--three stormy days passed in a post-house--armenian merchants--robbery committed by kalmucks--camels--kouskaia-- another tempest--tarakans--a reported gold mine. we left astrakhan at eight in the evening, and were ferried across the volga in a four-oared boat. it took us more than an hour to cross the river, its breadth opposite the town being more than yards. when we reached the opposite bank we might have fancied ourselves transported suddenly to a distance of a hundred versts from astrakhan. kalmucks, sand, felt tents, camels, in a word, the desert and its tenants were all that now met our view. we found our britchka waiting for us; our officer and the dragoman got into a telega or post chariot, and the bells began their merry jingling. nothing can be more dismal than the route from astrakhan to kisliar. for two days and two nights our journey lay through a horrid tract of loose sand, with nothing to be seen but some half-buried kalmuck kibitkas, serving for post stations, and a few patches of wormwood, the melancholy foliage of which was in perfect harmony with the desolate aspect of the landscape. the heaps of sand we passed between exhibited the most capricious mimicry of natural scenery. we had before our eyes hills, ravines, cascades, narrow valleys, and tumuli; but nothing remained in its place; an invisible power was ceaselessly at work, changing every shape too quickly for the eye to follow the rapid transformation. on the evening of the day after our departure, we had an opportunity of testing the prowess of our travelling companion, the hawk. the first theatre of his exploits was a little pond covered with wild ducks and geese, that promised a rich booty. at a signal from my husband the tatar officer unhooded the bird, and cast him off. instantly the hawk darted off like an arrow, close along the surface of the ground, towards the pond, and was soon hidden from us among the reeds, where his presence was saluted with a deafening clamour, and a scared multitude of wild geese rose up out of the sedges. their screams of rage and terror, and their bewildered flight backwards and forwards, and in all directions, were utterly indescribable, until the arrival of the officer put them to the route, and delivered their assailant from their obstreperous resentment. the moment the hawk flew off, the tatar followed him at a gallop, all the while beating a small drum that was fastened to his saddle. when he reached the pond he found the bird planted stoutly on the back of a most insubmissive victim, and waiting with philosophic patience until his master should come and release him from his critical position. the officer told us, that but for his presence, and the noise of the drum, the geese would in all probability have pummelled the hawk to death with their beaks, in order to rescue their companion. in such cases, however, the hawk braves the storm with imperturbable coolness, and adopts a curious expedient when the attacks are too violent, and his master is too slow in appearing. without quitting hold of his victim, he slips himself under the broad wings of the goose, which then become his buckler. once in that position he is invincible, and the blows aimed at him fall only on the poor prisoner, whose cruel fate it is to be forced to protect its mortal enemy. when the falconer comes up, the first thing he does is to cut off its head and give the brains to the hawk. until that operation is completed, the latter keeps fast hold on the quarry, and no efforts of its master can induce it to relax its gripe. the hawk made two or three more successful flights before we reached houidouk, and supplied us with a good stock of provisions, which were not a little needful to us in that miserable post station. during this journey we passed several times very close to the caspian, but without perceiving it. at houidouk, on the mouth of the kouma, we found our escort, which had been waiting two days for us. every thing was ready for our departure, but a violent fall of rain detained us three mortal days in the most detestable cabin we had yet entered. two rooms, one for travellers, and the other for the master of the station and his family, composed the whole dwelling. we installed ourselves as well as we could in the former, the whole furniture of which consisted of a long table and two benches. the walls of this wretched hole were made of ill-jointed boards, that gave admission to the wind and the rain, and to add to our discomfort, it served as an ante-chamber to the other room, and was thus common to the whole household. hens, children, and the master of the house, were perpetually passing through it, and left us not a moment's rest. our situation was intolerable; the violence of the tempest increased at such a rate, that we knew not how the miserable wooden fabric could stand against it. all the elements seemed confounded together; there was no distinguishing earth or sky; but the terrible disorder of nature appeared to me more tolerable than the scene within doors. outside there was at least something for the imagination; the mind was exalted in contemplating the swelling uproar that threatened a renewal of chaos; but the scene within was enough to drive us to despair--children fighting and screaming, fowls fluttering and perching on the table and benches, squalor all around us, and a frowsy atmosphere! to complete our distress, some armenian merchants on their way to the fair of tiflis, finding it impossible to continue their journey, came to share with us the den in which we were already so uncomfortable. but this new incident was a sort of lesson in philosophy for us. when we saw these men conversing quietly as they smoked their tchibouks, without the least show of impatience, and talking of the heavy losses the unseasonable weather might occasion them, as calmly as if their own interests were not concerned, we could not help envying the stoic resignation of which the men of the east alone possess the secret. there is nothing like their fatalism for enabling one to take all things as they come; is not that the acme of human wisdom? our escort passed the three days of this deluge in a corner of the shed adjoining the house. wrapped up in their sheep-skins, those iron men slept as quietly through wind and rain as if they had been in a snug room. one must have lived among the russians to have any idea of the apathy with which they bear all kinds of privations. their bodies, inured to the rigours of their climate, to the coarsest food, and most spartan habits, grow so hardened, that what would be mortal to others makes no injurious impression on them. at last the rain ceased towards the end of the third day. a west wind followed it, and dispersed the dark threatening clouds that had so long obscured the sky. though the weather seemed still unsettled, we determined to make for the caspian, which lay but thirty versts from us. my husband's anxiety to commence his surveying operations, and our eagerness to quit our detestable abode, gave us courage to risk the chance of another storm in the open steppe. but a very unexpected incident threw the station into confusion just as we were departing, and delayed us some hours longer. a kalmuck cossack, mounted on a camel, arrived in great haste and informed us that the armenian merchants, who had started the day before, had been attacked some distance from the station by a band of kalmucks and plundered of the greater part of their merchandise. our cossack officer, after listening with great indignation to this story, asked permission of my husband to pursue the robbers. the whole escort set off with him at a hard gallop, but the pursuit was ineffectual. the robbers, having had some hours' start, had already reached the sedges of the caspian. in consequence of this delay it was the afternoon before we could make a start, and even then we had great difficulty in getting away, for the terrified postmaster entreated us not to forsake him at a moment so critical. his dismay, for which indeed there was little reason, almost infected me too, and it was not without some apprehension of disaster that i left the station. the appearance of our caravan was curious and grotesque. our britchka was drawn by three camels, taken in tow by a man on foot, and several other animals of the same species, besides sumpter-horses, were mounted by kalmucks and cossacks. our escort followed, and all the men composing it, armed with sabres, guns, and pistols, looked martial enough to scare away the most daring thieves. the leader of the troop, the tatar prince, rode with his falcon on his fist, every now and then showing off his skill in horsemanship and venery. thinking no more of the morning alarm, i gave myself up to the liveliest anticipations of the extraordinary things which this excursion promised us. at last i was about to behold that caspian sea which, ever since men have been engaged with geographical questions, has been the object of their researches and conjectures. besides, it had a much more potent interest for us, for it was in a manner the sole aim and end of our journey; it was to solve an immemorial question concerning it, that we had abandoned the comforts of civilised life, and encountered so many annoyances and privations. notwithstanding my ignorance of science, i felt that in sharing my husband's toils, i was in some sort a partner in his learned researches, and that i too, like him, had my claims upon the caspian. i was, therefore, impatient to see it; but our camels, who had no such motives for hurrying themselves, crawled along at a provokingly slow rate. they did not at all correspond with what we had read of the ships of the desert, creatures insensible to hunger, thirst, and fatigue, and as obedient to the will of man as the dry leaf is to the breath of the wind. in spite of a thick cord passed through one of their nostrils, which caused them sharp pain whenever they were unruly, our camels scarcely marched more than two hours at a stretch without lying down. the men had to battle with them continually to rouse them from their torpor, or hinder them from biting one another. whenever one of the drivers pulled the halter of his camel roughly, we heard loud cries, the more hideous from their resemblance to the human voice. in short our camels behaved so badly during this short trip, as largely to abate the good opinion of their species, which we had conceived in reading the more poetical than true descriptions of our great naturalist. at some distance from houidouk we met two camps of kalmucks, improperly called christians. these tribes are reputed to be addicted to theft, and are generally despised by the other kalmucks. we will speak of them again in another place. this whole region, as far as the caspian, is extremely arid, with only here and there a few pools of brackish water, the edges of which swarm with countless birds, the most remarkable of which are the white herons, whose plumage forms such beautiful _aigrettes_. unfortunately, these birds are so wary, that our companion could not take one of them, notwithstanding all his address and the power of his falcon. a ludicrous misadventure that befel our dragoman, anthony, amused us a good deal. curiosity prompting him to ride a camel, he asked one of the kalmucks to lend him his beast, and the request being complied with, he bestrode the saddle, pleased with the novelty of the experiment, and quite at a loss to know why the cossacks and camel-drivers laughed among themselves as he mounted. but as soon as the beast began to move, a change came over his face, and he speedily began to bawl out for help. the fact is, one must be almost a kalmuck to be able to endure the trotting of a camel; the shaking is so violent as to amount to downright torture for those who are not accustomed to it. the unlucky anthony, left in the rear of the party, strove in vain to come up with us, and was obliged, in spite of himself, to continue his ride to the caspian, where we arrived two hours before him. i never saw a man so cut up. he groaned so piteously when he was lifted down, that we began to be really alarmed for him. there are in nature two opposite types, beauty and ugliness; the elements of which vary infinitely, though imagination always erroneously supposes it can fix their boundaries. how often are we fully persuaded we can never meet again an object so beautiful as that before us; yet no sooner have we lavished all our enthusiasm upon it, than a more charming face, a sublimer landscape, or a more graceful form makes us forget what we had regarded as the model of perfection; and itself is soon, in turn, dethroned by other objects which we declare superior to all our former idols. just so it is with ugliness. it matters not that we have before us the lowest grade we believe it can attain, we have but to turn our heads another way to be amazed and confounded by new discoveries revealing to us the inexhaustible combinations of nature. these reflections occurred to me more and more strongly as we approached koumskaia. the aridity of the steppes round odessa, the wilderness of the volga, the parched and dismal soil of the environs of astrakhan, in a word all we had heretofore seen that was least engaging, seemed lovely in comparison with what met our view on the banks of the caspian. a grey, sickly sky, crossed from time to time by heavy black clouds, threw an indescribably sad and revolting hue over the lonely, sandy plain, and low, broken shore. the same funereal pall seemed to hang over the wooden houses, the gangs of turkmans and kalmucks loading their carts with salt, and the camels that roamed along the shore mingling their dismal cries with the sound of the waves. yet hideous as it seemed to us, this part of the coast is not unimportant in a commercial point of view. it supplies large quantities of salt, and has a port where vessels unload their cargoes of corn for the army of the caucasus. we counted at least a score of vessels which had been driven in there by the late storm. the population of koumskaia consists of a russian functionary, a cossack post, and a few kalmuck families, that appear very miserable. the _employé_ gave us the use of his house; that is to say, of two dilapidated rooms without glass windows or furniture. one can scarcely conceive how the mind can have strength to endure so very wretched an existence. an unwholesome climate, brackish water, excessive heat in summer, rigorous cold in winter, huts and kibitkas buried in the sand, the caspian sea with its squalls and tempests--all these things combine to make this region the most horrible abode imaginable. the major, who welcomed us to koumskaia, had a slow fever, which he owed still less perhaps to the insalubrity of the climate than to the hardships and mortal ennui he had endured for eighteen months. his wife, more stout-hearted, and amused in some degree by her household occupations, had still preserved a certain cheerfulness, which was no less than heroic in her situation. their exile was to last in all two years. the government, perceiving that many _employés_ died in koumskaia, has limited the time of service there to that short period, and as some compensation for what those suffer who are sent thither, their two years are counted as four of ordinary service. the weather had been louring since we left houidouk, and we had a regular hurricane the evening we reached the caspian. it lasted four-and-twenty hours, and such was the noise of the wind and waves, that we could hardly hear each other speak in our room. we saw two or three kibitkas blown away into the sea, and we expected every moment to share the same fate, for our frail tenement creaked like the cabin of a ship; the boarded window let in such a current of air, as soon drove into the room all the garments with which we strove to stop the chinks. but the saddest chapter of our history remains to be narrated. as soon as our servant had prepared the samovar, and lighted the candles, a multitude of black creatures crept out of the chinks of the walls and ceilings, and dropped from all sides like a living rain. imagine our consternation at the sight of that legion of black demons swarming around us, and leaving us no alternative but to put out the candles that attracted them. these insects, called in the country _tarakans_, though disgusting in appearance, are very inoffensive, and seldom climb on the person; but they are fond of light and heat, and hence they are a grievous nuisance in these regions, where their number is prodigious. i had already seen them in some post-houses, but in small numbers, and though i had always disliked them, i had never been so horrified by them as in the house of the major, where they kept me awake all night. next morning, the wind having fallen somewhat, we went, in spite of the rain, to gather shells on the shore. the vessels in the harbour all showed signs of having suffered severely by the storm. the waters of the caspian had a livid, muddy colour i never observed in any other sea in the most boisterous weather. when we returned to our cabin, the cossack officer presented to us a tatar, who asserted he had found gold in a spot forty versts from koumskaia. having heard of our arrival, he had walked all that horrible night to ask my husband to accompany him to the spot where he had made the discovery. but in spite of the gold ear and finger-rings he exhibited as tokens of his veracity, my husband was not tempted to lose four or five days in a search that would have led to nothing, to judge from the nature of the ground in which the tatar reported that the precious ore was to be found. chapter xxiii. another robbery at houidouk--our nomade life--camels--kalmuck camp--quarrel with a turcoman convoy, and reconciliation-- love of the kalmucks for their steppes; anecdote--a satza-- selenoi sastava--fleeced by a lieutenant-colonel--camel-drivers beaten by the kalmucks--alarm of a circassian incursion-- sources of the manitch--the journey arrested--visit to a kalmuck lady--hospitality of a russian officer. on returning to houidouk, we found the postmaster in still greater perturbation than he had been cast into by the disaster of the armenian merchants. one of his postillions had been seized but two versts from the station by turkmans, who, after robbing him of his sheep-skin and his tobacco, had beaten him and left him half dead, and then made off with the three horses he was taking back to the station. the strangest part of the adventure was, that on the morning of the next day, which happened to be that of our arrival, the three horses returned quietly to their stable, as if nothing extraordinary had befallen. this proved, at least, that the robbers were not very confident, but chose rather to lose their booty than expose themselves to the vengeance of the cossacks. though such stories were not very encouraging to us, we nevertheless set out early next morning, entirely forsaking the post road we had till then pursued, and striking across the steppes with a weak escort, very insufficient to resist a serious attack. my husband, who had already begun his course of levels, resumed his operations from the station at houidouk. having to make one every ten minutes, he proceeded on foot, as well as the kalmucks and cossacks who carried the instruments and measured the distances. all the men were occupied except the camel drivers and the officer, who amused himself with flying his falcon now and then at wild ducks and geese. besides its positive and gastronomic results, this sport did me the further service of withdrawing my mind from the monotony of a slow march across the desert, in which i had often no other pastime than watching the grotesque movements of the three camels that drew my carriage, or the capricious evolutions of the flocks of birds that were already assembling for their autumnal emigration. yet the impression made on me by this first day did not tend much to alarm me at the prospect of wandering, like a veritable kalmuck, for several weeks across the steppe. the novelty of my sensations, and the secret pleasure of escaping for awhile from the round of prescribed habits that make up the chief part of civilised life, banished from my mind every sombre thought. the excursion was an experimental glimpse of those natural ways of life which are no longer possible in our thickly-peopled lands; and in spite of my prejudices, a nomade existence no longer seemed to me so absurd or wearisome as i had supposed it to be. the quiet and the immensity of space around us imparted a deep serenity to my mind, and fortified it against any remains of fear occasioned by the late events at houidouk. we made our first halt about noon, not at all too soon for our cossacks, a race not accustomed to long walking. they immediately made a great fire, whilst our camel-drivers were busy setting up the tents and arranging a regular encampment. the sun had reappeared with more force than before, as usually happens after violent storms. the heat of the vertical sunshine, increased by the bare parched soil and by the extraordinary dryness of the air, had so overcome us that we could scarcely attend to the picturesque group presented by our halt in the desert, over which we appeared to reign as absolute masters. the britchka, unyoked and unladen, was placed a little way from, the tent, on the carpet of which were heaped portfolios, cushions, and boxes, in a manner which a painter would have thought worth notice. whilst we were taking tea our men were making preparations for dinner, some plucking a fine wild goose and half-a-dozen kourlis, others attending to the fire, round which were ranged two or three pots for the pilau and the bacon soup, of which the cossacks are great admirers; and anthony with a little barrel of brandy under his arm, distributed the regular dram to every man, with the gravity of a german major-domo. as for the officer, he lay on his back under the britchka, for sake of the shade, amusing himself with his hawk, which he had unhooded, after fastening it with a stout cord to the carriage. though the creature's sparkling eyes were continually on the look out for a quarry, it seemed by the continual flapping of its wings to enjoy its master's caresses. the camels, rejoicing in their freedom, browsed at a little distance from the tent, and contributed by their presence to give an oriental aspect to our first essay in savage life; wherein i myself figured in my huge bonnet, dressed as usual in wide pantaloons, with a gaulish tunic gathered round my waist by a leathern belt. by dint of wondering at every thing, our wonderment at last wore itself out, and we regarded ourselves as definitively naturalised kalmucks. three hours before we halted, the last kibitkas had disappeared below the horizon: we were absolutely alone on the whole surface of the vast plain. there was no vestige to tell us that other men had encamped where we were. the steppe is like the sea; it retains no trace of those who have traversed it. at two o'clock hommaire gave the word to march: the tent was struck; the camels knelt to receive their burdens; the officer was in the saddle with his hawk on his fist; and i was again alone in the carriage, slowly following our little troop as it resumed its operations. my first night under a tent proved to me that i was not so acclimated to the steppe as my vanity had led me to suppose. the felt cone under which i was to sleep; the kalmucks moving about the fire; the camels sending their plaintive cries through the immensity of the desert; in a word, every thing i saw and heard, was so at variance with my habits and ways of thought, that i almost fancied i was in an opium dream. we spent part of the night seated before the tent, our reveries unbroken by any inclination to sleep. the moon, larger and more brilliant than it ever appears in the west, lighted the whole sky and part of the steppe, over which it cast a luminous line like that which a vessel leaves in its wake at sea. absolute silence reigned in the air, and produced upon us an effect which no words can describe. hardly did we dare to break it, so solemn did it seem, and so in harmony with the infinite grandeur of the waste. it would be in vain to look for a stillness so complete, even in the most sequestered solitudes of our regions. there is always some murmuring brook there, some rustling leaves; and even in the silence of night, some low sounds are heard, that give an object to the thoughts. but here nature is petrified, and one has constantly before him the image of that eternal repose which our minds can so hardly conceive. we marched for several days without meeting one living creature. this part of the steppes is inhabited only in winter; for during the rest of the year it is completely destitute of fresh water. at last, towards the close of the fourth day, we saw a black object in motion on the horizon. the officer instantly galloped off to reconnoitre, waving his cap in the air, for a signal of command. in a few seconds we were sure he was perceived, for we distinguished the form of a kalmuck mounted on a camel approaching us. he was hailed with shouts of joy by our men, who soon fastened on him, and overwhelmed him with questions. the eagerness of nomades to hear news is unbounded, and it is wonderful with what rapidity the knowledge of the most trivial event is conveyed from one tribe to another. the new comer told us that our journey was already known all over the steppes, and that we should soon fall in with an encampment of kalmucks, who had moved forward on purpose to see us. the presence of this man put all our men in the gayest humour. desirous of doing due honour to his arrival, they deputed anthony to solicit from us a double ration of spirits. they passed all the early part of the night sitting round the fire, smoking their tchibouks, and telling stories, as grave and as entranced in the charms of conversation as bedouins. next day our little caravan was in motion before sunrise; the kalmuck set off alone for the fair of kisliar, and we took the opposite direction, pursuing the invisible line which science traced for us across the desert, and which was to lead us to the sources of the manitch. it was on this morning i took my first ride on the back of a camel, and i vowed it should be the last. decidedly the camel is the most detestable quadruped to ride in the world. from the moment you mount until you descend from that murderous perch you have to endure an incessant series of shocks, so violent and sudden, that every joint in your body feels dislocated. i could now feel for the sufferings of our poor dragoman during his long trot from houidouk to the caspian. though my experiment was limited to a trip of two versts at the most, i was totally exhausted when i dismounted. not long afterwards i had an opportunity of observing a curious instance of the vindictive temper of these rough trotters. the camel, as every one knows, is a ruminating animal, but few, perhaps, are aware that he has the cunning to make his rumination subservient to his vengeance in a very extraordinary and ingenious manner. i had noticed in the morning that one of our camel-drivers seemed to be on very bad terms with his beast. in vain he strove to master it by severity, and by pulling the cord passed through its nostril; the brute was obstinate, and threw itself every moment rebelliously on the ground. at last the kalmuck, incensed beyond endurance, took advantage of a general halt, and alighted to give the camel a sound drubbing. but the creature, disdainfully lifting up its long neck, followed all its master's movements with so spiteful an eye, that i was sure it had some wicked scheme in its head. it waited patiently till the kalmuck stood in front of it, and then, opening its great mouth, it let fly a charge of chewed grass mixed with mucus and all sorts of nastiness, and hit the poor driver full in the face. to tell with what an air of satisfied vengeance the camel again reared its neck and turned its head from side to side, as if looking round for applause, would be totally impossible. but what astonished me the most was the moderation of the master after such an outrage. he wiped his face very coolly, got into the saddle again, and patted the neck of his ill-bred brute, as if it had played the most amiable and innocent little trick imaginable. good fellowship was thenceforth re-established between them, and they jogged peaceably along together, without thinking any more of what had happened. it happens by a rare good fortune, that no noxious insect is found in the steppes between the caspian and the caucasus. of course it was not until i was quite sure of this that i could sleep in peace. our tent, made of felt like those of the kalmucks, was at most five feet high and as many wide. it was supported by a bundle of sticks tied together at the ends; the interior, furnished with a carpet and cushions laid on the ground, contained, besides, some boxes belonging to the britchka. a flap of felt formed the door. as the tent narrowed toward the top, we could not stand within it, but were obliged to kneel. such was our dwelling for six weeks; and i can aver, that notwithstanding the hardness of our bed on the ground, and the strangeness of our situation, i never slept so soundly as during that period of my life. nothing is better for the health than living in the open air; the appetite, the sleep, the unutterable serenity of mind, and the free circulation of the blood which it procures, sufficiently attest its happy influence on our organisation. few functional maladies, i suspect, would resist a two or three months' excursion like that which we accomplished. as the kalmuck had foretold, we arrived at night in a kalmuck camp, consisting of a score of tents. all the men came to meet us, took the camels from the britchka, and would not allow our people to lend a hand; then having pitched our tent a little way off from their own, at the foot of a tumulus, they began to dance with their women, in token of rejoicing. one of the latter went down on her knees and begged some tobacco of my husband, and when she had got it she became an object of envy to her companions, before whom she hastened to display and smoke it. when night had fallen, the camp was lighted up with numerous fires, which gave a still more curious aspect to the kibitkas, and the dancing figures of the kalmucks and cossacks, whose exuberant gaiety was in part owing to an extraordinary distribution of food and brandy. the women advanced in their turn, and several of them forming a circle, danced in the same manner as the ladies of honour of the princess tumene. but they all seemed to me extremely ugly, though some of them were very young. two days afterwards we arrived at the edge of a pond, where we arranged to pass the night. the sight of the water, and of the thousands of birds on its surface, afforded us real delight; there needed but such a little thing, under such circumstances as ours, to constitute an event, and occupy the imagination! all that evening was spent in shooting and hawking, bathing, and walking round and round the pool. we could not satiate ourselves with the pleasure of beholding that brackish mud, and the forest of reeds that encompassed it. no landscape on the alps or the tyrol was probably ever hailed with so much enthusiasm. beyond this pond, the appearance of the steppes gradually changed; water grew less rare, the vegetation less scorched. we saw from time to time herds of more than five hundred camels, grazing in freedom on the short thick grass. some of them were of gigantic height. i shall never forget the amazement they manifested at beholding us. the moment they perceived us they hurried towards, then stopped short, gazing at us with outstretched necks until we were out of sight. the eighth day after our departure from houidouk our fresh water was so sensibly diminished, that we were obliged to use brackish water in cooking. this change in our kitchen routine fortunately lasted but a few days; but it was enough to give me a hearty aversion for meats so cooked: they had so disagreeable a taste, that nothing but necessity and long habit can account for their ordinary use. the kalmucks and cossacks, however, use no other water during a great part of the year. that same day we had a very singular encounter, which went near to be tragical. shortly before encamping, we saw a very long file of small carts approaching us; our kalmucks recognised them as belonging to turkmans, a sort of people held in very bad repute, by reason of their quarrelsome and brutal temper. every untoward event that happens in the steppes is laid to their account, and there is perpetual warfare between them and the cossacks, to whom they give more trouble than all the other tribes put together. as we advanced, an increased confusion was manifest in the convoy, and suddenly all the oxen, as if possessed by the fiend, exhibited the most violent terror, and began to run away in wild disorder, dashing against each other, upsetting and breaking the carts loaded with salt, wholly regardless of the voices and blows of their drivers. some moments elapsed before we could account for this strange disaster, and comprehend the meaning of the furious abuse with which the turkmans assailed our escort. the camel-drivers were the real culprits in this affair, for they knew by experience how much horses and oxen are frightened by the sight of a camel, and they ought to have moved out of the direct line of march, and not exposed us to the rage of the fierce carters. the moment immediately after the catastrophe was really critical. all the turkmans, incensed at the sight of the broken carts and their salt strewed over the ground, seemed, by their threatening gestures and vociferations, to be debating whether or not they should attack us. a single imprudent gesture might have been fatal to us, for they were more than fifty, and armed with cutlasses; but the steady behaviour of the escort gradually quieted them. instead of noticing their hostile demonstrations, all our men set to work to repair the mischief, and the turkmans soon followed their example; in less than an hour all was made right again, and the scene of confusion ended much more peaceably than we had at first ventured to hope. all parties now thought only of the comical part of the adventure, and hearty laughter supplanted the tokens of strife. to seal the reconciliation, hommaire ordered a distribution of brandy, which completely won the hearts of the fellows, who a little before had been on the point of murdering us. the more we became accustomed to the stillness and grandeur of the desert, the better we understood the kalmuck's passionate love for the steppes and his kibitka. if happiness consist in freedom, no man is more happy than he. habituated as he is to gaze over a boundless expanse, to endure no restriction, and to pitch his tent wherever his humour dictates, it is natural that he should feel ill at ease, cribbed, cabined, and confined, when removed from his native wastes, and that he should rather die by his own hand than live in exile. during our stay at astrakhan, every one was talking of a recent event which afforded us an instance of the strong attachment of those primitive beings to the natal soil. a kalmuck chief killed his cossack rival in a fit of jealousy, and instead of attempting to escape punishment by flight, he augmented his guilt by resisting a detachment which was sent to arrest him. several of his servants aided him, but numbers prevailed; all were made prisoners and conveyed to a fort, where they were to remain until their sentence should have been pronounced. a month afterwards, an order arrived for their transportation to siberia, but by that time three-fourths of the captives had ceased to exist. some had died of grief, others had eluded the vigilance of their gaolers, and killed themselves. the chief, however, had been too closely watched to allow of his making any attempt on his own life, but his obstinate silence, and the deep dejection of his haggard features, proved plainly that his despair was not less than that which had driven his companions to suicide. when he was placed in the car to begin his journey, some kalmucks were allowed to approach and bid him farewell. "what can we do for thee?" they whispered; the chief only replied, "you know." thereupon one of the kalmucks drew a pistol from his pocket, and before the bystanders had time to interpose, he blew out the chief's brains. the faces of the two other prisoners beamed with joy. "thanks for him," they cried; "as for us, we shall never see siberia." i have not yet spoken of the kalmuck _satzas_, and the desire we felt to become acquainted with them. from the moment we had entered the waste, we had never ceased to sweep the horizon in hopes to discover one of these mysterious tombs, from which the kalmucks always keep aloof, in order not to profane them by their presence. these satzas are small temples erected on purpose to contain the remains of the high priests. when one of them dies, his body is burned, and his ashes are deposited with great pomp in the mausoleum prepared to receive them, along with a quantity of sacred images, which are so many good genii placed there to keep watch eternally over the dust of the holy personage. before we left astrakhan, we had taken care to collect all possible information respecting these satzas, in order to visit one of them during our journey through the steppes, and rifle it, if possible, of its contents. but as the religious jealousy of our kalmucks had hitherto prevented us from making any researches of the kind, we determined at last to trust to chance for the gratification of our wishes. it was at one day's journey from selenoi sastava that we had for the first time the satisfaction of perceiving one of these monuments. great was our delight, notwithstanding the difficulty of approaching it, and eluding the keen watch of our camel-drivers; nay, the obstacles in our way did but give the more zest to our pleasure. there were precautions to be taken, a secret to be kept, and novelty to be enjoyed; all this gave enhanced interest to the satza, and delightfully broke the monotony that had oppressed us for so many days. all our measures were therefore taken with extreme prudence and deliberation. we halted for breakfast at a reasonable distance from the satza, so that our camel-drivers might not conceive any suspicion; and during the repast anthony and the officer, who had received their instructions from us, took care to say that we intended to catch a few white herons before we resumed our march. the kalmucks, being aware of the value we attached to those birds, heard the news as a matter of course, and rejoiced at the opportunity of indulging in a longer doze. the satza stood in the midst of the sands, five or six versts from our halting-place. to reach it we had to make a long detour, in order to deceive the kalmucks, in case they conceived any suspicion of our design. all this was difficult enough, and extremely fatiguing; still i insisted on making one in the expedition, and was among the first mounted. after two hours' marching and countermarching over the sands, in a tropical temperature that quite dispirited our beasts, we arrived in front of the satza, the appearance of which was any thing but attractive, and seemed far from deserving the pains we had taken to see it. it was a small square building, of a grey colour, with only two holes by way of windows. fancy our consternation when we found that there was no door. we all marched round and round the impenetrable sanctuary in a state of ludicrous disappointment. some means or other was to be devised for getting in, for the thought of returning without satisfying our curiosity never once entered our heads. the removal of some stones from one of the windows afforded us a passage, very inconvenient indeed, but sufficient. like conquerors we entered the satza through a breach, like mahomet entering the capital of the lower empire; but we had not thought of the standard, which was indispensable for the strict accomplishment of the usual ceremonies. instead thereof, hommaire had recourse to his silk handkerchief, and planting it on the summit of the mausoleum, he took possession of it in the name of all present and future travellers. this ceremony completed, we made a minute inspection of the interior of the tomb, but found in it nothing extraordinary: it appeared to be of great antiquity. some idols of baked clay, like those we had seen at prince tumene's, were ranged along the wall. several small notches, at regular intervals, contained images half decayed by damp. the floor of beaten earth, and part of the walls were covered with felt: such were the sole decorations we beheld. like generous victors we contented ourselves with taking two small statues, and a few images. according to the notions of the kalmucks, no sacrilege can compare with that of which we were now guilty. yet no celestial fire reduced us to ashes, and the grand llama allowed us to return in peace to our escort. but a great vexation befel us, for one of the idols was broken by the way, and we had to supplicate the boukhans of the steppe to extend their protection to the other, during the rest of the journey. anthony and the officer were questioned at great length by the kalmucks, who seemed possessed by some uneasy misgivings. on awaking, they had seen us return in the direction that led from the satza, and this circumstance had much annoyed them. the display of some game, however, with which we had taken care to furnish ourselves, and the peremptory tone of the officer, cut short all their observations. on the day after this memorable adventure, anthony informed us that there was no more bread. the news obliged my husband to suspend his scientific operations, and proceed to selenoi sastava, from which we were distant only thirty-five versts. i cannot express the delight with which the kalmucks and cossacks again took possession of their camels. we need not wonder at any eccentricity of taste when we see men preferring the dislocating torture of riding those detestable trotters to the fatigue of walking fifteen or twenty versts a day. hommaire, too, did not seem at all dissatisfied at taking his place again in the britchka. in short, we were all like a set of schoolboys that had got an unexpected holiday. before reaching the salt-works, where we intended to ask for hospitality, we passed some kalmuck camps; carts loaded with salt appeared in different directions. the desert was assuming a more animated aspect, and we were no longer alone between the sky and the steppe. on arriving at selenoi, we were taken to the house of the sub-inspector of the salt-works (the inspector was absent). we found that functionary in a most miserable hole, compared with which the hut at houidouk was a palace. we had never seen such horrid deficiency of all needful accommodation even among the poorest russian peasants. we were received by a little weasel-faced man in a uniform so old and tarnished, that neither the colour of the cloth nor the lace was distinguishable. his manifestations of bewildered joy--his volubility that savoured almost of insanity--and his incessant importunity, completed our disgust. the house, a heap of ruins, kept from falling by a few half-rotten posts, was abominably filthy. we were assigned the least dilapidated chamber, but it took more than two hours to clear away the clouds of dust raised by anthony in sweeping it. the windows were without frames, the doors were broken, and furniture there was none. how we regretted that we had not encamped as usual on the steppe. we tried to quit the house, but the lieutenant-colonel (for our host bore that title in addition to that of sub-inspector) made such an outcry, that we were obliged, whether we would or not, to resign ourselves to his singular hospitality. to make up for the want of furniture, we did like the turks, and made a carpet and cushions on the ground serve us for a bed and a divan. having completed these first arrangements, we proceeded to ask our host if he had bread enough to spare us some. having learned from our escort the reason of our coming, he was prepared with his answer. our presence was too great a piece of good luck for a man in his extreme state of destitution to allow of our escaping out of his hands until he had made the most of us. accordingly, he protested he could not possibly provide what we wanted in less than three or four days, and we had every reason to think we should be fortunate enough if we got out of his clutches so cheaply. the event proved that our suspicions were not unjust, and his conduct towards us, his indecorous demands, his cupidity and his thefts sufficiently explained the motives of his extravagant delight at our arrival. on the first day of our sojourn with him, tempted by a fine wild goose which anthony had roasted in the tent of his kalmuck cook, he sent to beg permission to dine with us, and presently arrived, holding in his hand a plate of paltry crusts dried in the oven, which he presented to us as excellent _zouckari_. during all the time of dinner he diverted us exceedingly by his insatiable gluttony and continual babbling: nor was it the least amusing part of the performance to see him despatch to his own share a half mouldy loaf he had sold us that morning for a ruble and a half. the camel-drivers proceeded, during our stay at selenoi, to a neighbouring camp to get fresh camels instead of their own, which had been fatigued by more than a fortnight's marching. they promised to return within twenty-four hours, but we did not see them again till two days had elapsed, and then in a very sorry plight. according to the account given by one of them, who was the first to arrive in great tribulation, they had behaved rather roughly to the kalmucks who were to furnish them with the camels, and the latter had retaliated by beating them, tieing them hand and foot, and carrying them before one of their inspectors, who kept them in confinement until the next day. i never saw a more woe-begone set than these unfortunate camel-drivers appeared on their return: one of them had his head bandaged, another wore his arm in a sling, a third limped, and all had been very roughly handled. this adventure, and the gross cupidity of the lieutenant-colonel, were not the only things that occurred to amuse or interest us at selenoi. on the third day of our stay, a great number of kalmuck families suddenly arrived in strange disorder, and announced that the circassians had just shown themselves three versts from the salt-works, on the borders of the kouma. terrible was the consternation produced by this news. both kalmucks and cossacks were terrified at the thought of having the circassians so near them. our whole escort came and implored us on their knees not to set out until something positive was known of the matter. but after many inquiries we were satisfied that the alarm was groundless, and we did not delay our preparations to depart. our host was surely the oddest being this world ever produced. in spite of ourselves, he was the sole object of our thoughts every moment in the day. anthony, who had taken no little aversion to him, lost no opportunity of informing us of what he called his turpitudes. for instance, every morning he was sure to be seen in ambush behind the door until our samovar was ready, when he would come in smiling with his cup and spoon in his hand, without even waiting for an invitation, seat himself at the table, and wash down his zouckaris with three or four cups of tea. one day he begged a few spoonfuls of rum of my husband, for a sick person, as he said; but that evening his jollity and the redness of his face told us plainly what had become of our liquor. he even found it so much to his taste, that he entreated anthony next day to give him a few more spoonfuls on the sly, telling him very seriously that the cat had spilled the first cup. he gave us no peace night or day. not content with deafening us by his incessant babbling, not a word of which we understood, the whim would sometimes seize him to sing all the malorussian airs that came into his head. long after we were in bed one night, we heard him pacing up and down the corridor like a sentinel. we tried hard to guess what might be the meaning of this new freak; but next day we discovered that it proceeded from his excessive vigilance and forethought. he failed not himself to tell us, that feeling uneasy at the news that the circassians were abroad, he had kept guard over us with his musket shouldered, and that he was ready to perform the same duty every night. could we remain untouched by such conduct? could we refuse such a man the parcels of coffee, tea, and sugar he had been so long soliciting with looks and hints? unfortunately his requests followed so close on each other, that our gratitude was worn out at last. anthony was furious every time we yielded to his importunities, and ceased not in revenge to torment him in a thousand ways. one day the jealous dragoman, of his own authority, served up dinner an hour before the usual time, in order to baffle our host, who accordingly did not arrive until we were just quitting the table. i never saw a man more disappointed; he stood at the door, not knowing whether to enter or not; at last, doomed to forego his dinner, he knew nothing better to do in his despair than to go and cudgel his kalmuck. on the eve of our departure we learned that he had charged us for the bread he sold us more than double the price paid at the barracks. this occasioned a very lively altercation between him and anthony, who was delighted to have such an opportunity of speaking out his mind. but the honourable functionary was not to be disconcerted by such a trifle; after listening with imperturbable coolness to the dragoman's reproaches, he replied in a very off-hand manner that the thing was not worth talking about, for when people travel, they must make up their minds to pay a ducat in most cases for what is not worth more than twenty copeks. he became extremely sulky when he observed our preparations to depart. he no longer talked, but contented himself with restlessly watching all that was going on in the room; peering at every article of our baggage, as if he would look through and through it. whenever our men carried any thing to the carriage, he followed them with angry looks, as if they were committing a robbery upon him. at last, on the sixth day after our arrival at selenoi sastava, we had the pleasure to turn our backs on the lieutenant-colonel and his miserable cabin. i doubt if the fear of the circassians would have been able to detain us longer in such a spot. the dryness of the atmosphere, which had lasted from the time we left houidouk, was succeeded by heavy rain when we reached selenoi, and this was the chief cause of our long stay there. on the day of our departure the sky looked rather threatening, notwithstanding which we stepped into the carriage with inexpressible delight. i would rather have taken my chance of ten deluges in the open steppe, than have spent twenty-four hours more in selenoi; but fortune was pleased to compensate us in some degree for our recent vexations by affording us the most agreeable weather that travellers could desire. the rain had given the sand a pleasant degree of solidity, and had, besides, spread a mild and subdued tone over the steppes that was peculiarly agreeable. autumn was now come, with its sharp morning air and its melancholy tints; and accustomed as we had been to the scorching reverberation of the sunshine, we felt as if an earthly paradise was opening before us. in one day more the sky was cleared of its last vapours, and reappeared in all its azure purity, streaked only with a few rich and warm-coloured clouds, that seemed to take away the aridity of the desert. but the sun had lost much of its power, and though it shone down on us without obstruction, we reached the sources of the manitch without being much inconvenienced by the heat. these sources are formed by a depression of about twenty-five versts in diameter, towards which converge several small ravines. they were quite dry when we arrived at them, and all the vicinity, intercepted by small brackish lakes, displayed no kind of vegetation. the total want of water and fodder hindered us from proceeding to the don, as we had intended, and my husband was obliged to suspend his levelling operations. it was not, of course, without sore regret that he put off the solution of his great scientific problem until the following year. our men were in good spirits, our health excellent, and we were by no means prepared to expect such an obstacle as that which now stopped us in a course we had pursued with such perseverance; but nature commanded, and we were forced to obey. we passed the night near the sources in the midst of a total solitude, and early next morning we retraced our steps, and proceeded towards the kouma, distant about seventy-five versts; the men were all mounted again on their camels, and seemed well pleased to have no more pedestrian labours in prospect; for with all their willingness, they had not been able to accustom their limbs to that sort of service. we encamped for two nights successively among kalmucks, for the steppes grew less lonely as we departed from our first course. these good people heard the story of our journey through their plains with eager curiosity. as soon as supper was over they squatted themselves round our kibitka, lending a religious attention to the most improbable tales, for our men, who took upon them the office of historiographers, paid very little respect to truth in their compositions. one of our camel-drivers, especially, had been endowed by heaven with an imagination of extraordinary fecundity. it was his peculiar office to amuse the whole escort during the bivouac, and when he had to do with a new audience, his captivating eloquence attained the utmost limits of possibility, enchanting even those who heard him every day. the last encampment in which we passed the night was one of the most considerable we had seen up to that time. the country, indeed, had entirely changed its aspect; we had left the dreary sands behind us, with the caspian and the manitch. an abundant vegetation, and undulations of the ground that became more and more decided as we proceeded, gladdened the sight, and accounted for the numerous encampments we discovered in all directions. herds of horses, camels, and oxen spotted all the surface of the steppe, and bespoke the wealth of the hordes to which they belonged. we were not in the least molested by the latter. these good kalmucks were delighted to receive us in their tents, and never attempted to steal the least thing from us. their desires and their wants are so very limited! to tame a wild horse, to roam from steppe to steppe on their camels, to smoke and drink koumis, to shut themselves up in winter in the midst of ashes and smoke, and to addict themselves to the superstitious practices of a religion they cannot understand,--such is the whole sum of their lives. i had the curiosity frequently to enter their kibitkas, but i never saw in any of them the dirt i had been told of. the russian kates are infinitely more untidy and squalid that the interiors of these tents. among other visits we made one to the wife of a subaltern chief, and as she had been warned of our coming, she was dressed in her best finery. she sat with her legs tucked under her on a piece of felt, with a child before her, and a servant-woman motionless at her side. she was delighted to receive us, and thanked us with much cordiality. we complimented her on the neatness and good order of her tent, at which she seem gratified in the highest degree. we remarked with surprise that there was not one priest in all the camps we passed through, but we afterwards learned that they were all gone northwards to the sarpa, where there were much finer pastures, and where one was not tormented by the myriads of gnats that abound in those countries in autumn. we ourselves had much to endure from those terrible insects all the way to vladimirofka, and we were often so annoyed by them as to wish ourselves back among the sands of the manitch. even if the want of water had not put a stop to our journey, the state of our provisions was such that i hardly know what we could have done. our bacon, rice, coffee, and biscuits had long disappeared; we had nothing left but a small stock of tea and sugar, and for the rest we were dependent on the hawk, which did wonders daily in supplying the deficiencies of our commissariat. our last repast under the tent consisted only of game cooked in all sorts of ways. anthony, who to his functions as dragoman, added those of butler, cook, and scullion, put forth all his powers on that occasion: but we had been surfeited with game; we had lived upon it so long that the sight of a wild goose was enough to give us a fit of indigestion. it was, therefore, with exceeding joy that on reaching the house of an inspector of kalmucks, we found ourselves seated at a table covered with vegetables and pastry. the house of that officer (a very agreeable young russian who spoke kalmuck like a native) was situated at a little distance from the kouma in a magnificent meadow. for a long while we had beheld no such landscape, and though we were still on the verge of the desert, that little white house with green window blinds, and the two or three handsome trees around it, completely changed the physiognomy of the country in our eyes. the inspector gave us a good deal of information respecting the proprietor of vladimirofka, of whom we had already heard at astrakhan, and he offered to accompany us to the establishment, which was barely ten versts distant. it was there we proposed to rest and recruit ourselves after the fatigues of our journey, and to take a final leave of our escort. chapter xxiv. review of the history of the kalmucks. the account we have given of our journey on the banks of the volga, and the steppes of the caspian, will have afforded the reader an idea of the strange and striking habits of the nomade hordes that wander with their flocks over those vast deserts, and worship their llamite deities with all the pomp and fervour of the nations of thibet. our historical and political sketch will serve as a complement to those primary notions. it is by no means our intention, however, to give a complete history of the kalmucks; such a work would be too extensive, and would require too long and arduous researches to be compressed within our limits. at present we shall only cast a rapid glance over the past history of the great mongol families; we shall dwell principally upon their actual condition, and then comparing our own observations with the statements of preceding writers, we shall try to cast some new light on the history of the asiatic races that occupy the south of russia. pallas and b. bergmann, the only travellers who have taken pains to investigate the history of the kalmucks in the government of astrakhan, have left us some valuable details respecting their manners and customs, and their religion. but pallas travelled in , and circumstances have greatly changed since his day. b. bergmann visited the kalmucks in the early part of this century, and it is to be regretted that his work, which contains such important information respecting the languages and the religious books of the mongols, takes no notice whatever of any matter connected with their political administration and organisation. it is not surprising that so little is yet known of the kalmuck hordes, for excursions through the remote steppes of the caspian sea present difficulties and hardships which few travellers can withstand. one must unquestionably be impelled by a strong motive, to traverse those immense plains which are almost everywhere destitute of fresh water, where one often marches leagues without seeing a trace of human life, and where the soil, bare of vegetation, offers no other variety than sands and brackish lakes. yet in order to form an exact idea of the inhabitants of these deserts, of their character, and ways of life, it is necessary to dwell beneath their tents. it is in the vicinity of sarepta that the traveller arriving from the north meets the first kalmuck kibitkas. the camps then stretch away across the manitch and the kouma towards the foot of the great caucasian chain. we have explored all that extent of country, have visited the remotest parts of the steppes, and seen the kalmucks in an advanced social stage at prince tumene's, and in a primitive condition beneath their tents. it is thus we have been enabled to collect our information respecting the history and present condition of this unique people of europe. according to the unanimous opinion of all historians, the regions adjoining the altai mountains, and especially those south of that great chain, appear to have been from time immemorial the cradle and domain of the mongol tribes. at first divided into two branches, always at war with each other, the mongols were at last united into one great nation under the celebrated genghis khan, and thus was laid the basis of that formidable power which was to invade almost the whole of eastern europe. but after the death of genghis khan, the old discord broke out with renewed violence, and only ended with the mutual destruction of the two great mongol tribes. the mongols proper were forced to submit to the chinese, whom they had formerly vanquished, and the four nations that formed the doerboen oeroet, scattered themselves over all the north of asia. the koïtes, after long wars, spread over mongolia and thibet; the touemmoites or toummouts settled along the great wall of china, where they remain to this day; the bourga burates, who already in the time of genghis khan inhabited the mountains adjacent to lake barkal, are now beneath the russian sceptre; the eleuthes, the last of the four, are better known in europe and western asia under the appellation of kalmucks. according to ancient national traditions, the greater part of the eleuthes made an expedition westward, and were lost in the caucasus, long before the time of genghis khan. it is to that epoch that some historians refer the origin of the word kalmuck, which they derive from _kalimak_, _severed_, _left behind_, and they suppose this designation was applied to all those eleuthes who did not accompany their brethren westward. according to bergmann, _kalimak_ signifies likewise _unbeliever_, and this name may very naturally have been given by the people of asia who adhered to the primitive religion, to the eleuthes, when they had become converts to buddhism. we leave to competent judges the task of deciding which is the more rational or probable explanation. the eleuthes or kalmucks allege that they dwelt in old times in the countries lying between koho noor (blue lake) and thibet. their division into four great tribes, each under an independent prince, dates probably from the dissolution of the mongol power. these tribes, whose remains exist to this day, are the koshotes, derbetes, soongars, and torghouts. the koshotes, whose chiefs consider themselves to be lineally descended from a brother of genghis khan, were partly destroyed in intestine wars with the torghouts and soongars, and partly subjugated by china. only a small remnant of them accompanied the derbetes to the banks of the volga. the soongars originally united with the derbetes, constituted the most formidable tribe in asia, in the beginning of the seventeenth century. their princes, who resided on the river ily, had then subdued all the other kalmucks; they could bring , fighting men into the field, and the khirghis and turkmans paid them tribute. their pride augmented with their success, and a war they undertook against the chinese mongols became the cause of their downfall. the soongars were enslaved or scattered, and a branch of the derbetes shared their fate. it was about this period that the first emigration of kalmucks took place into russia; , soongar or torgout families encamped on the banks of the volga, in , and astrakhan owed its safety only to the death of their prince cho orloëk, who was slain in an assault on the town. subsequently, however, about , daitchink, the son of cho orloëk, was forced to acknowledge himself a vassal of the empire, and to swear fealty. his example was followed by his son. but this submission was merely nominal, and did not at all affect the real independence of the mongol hordes. the first kalmuck emigrations towards the west were speedily followed by others. the derbetes and other torghouts arrived in the steppes of the caspian and volga to the number of more than , tents. in , aiouki khan, grandson of daitchink, an enterprising and ambitious man, succeeded, in defiance of russia, in extending his sway over all the kalmuck tribes. this chief pushed his excursions up to the foot of the caucasus, and being opposed on his march by the nogais of the kouban, he completely defeated them in a general engagement. the bodies of his slain foes were cast by his orders into a pit dug under a great tumulus, situated on the field of battle, and still known in the country by the name of _bairin tolkon_ (mountain of joy), bestowed on it by the victorious khan in memory of his triumph. aiouki's forces then took part in peter the great's famous expedition against persia, in which they rendered great services to russia. the kalmuck prince had a brilliant interview on this occasion with the tzar. peter received him on board his galley on the volga, near saratof, and treated him and his wife with all the honours due to sovereigns. aiouki was then at the height of his power, and cared little for the oath of allegiance to russia taken by his predecessors. peter required , men of him, and he furnished . it was about this period that an embassy, under the special protection of russia, arrived from china, by way of siberia, and waited on aiouki khan, ostensibly for the purpose of treating with him for the restoration of one of his nephews, who was detained at the imperial court for reasons unknown to us. but we believe that the principal object of the embassy was to keep up political relations with the kalmucks, whom the chinese government wished to bring back under its own sway. aiouki, following the example of his predecessors, had not broken off all communication with the celestial empire, and had even sent rich presents to the emperor in . it was, therefore, important to cherish this favourable disposition, of which the chinese hoped to avail themselves sooner or later. of course it is not to be supposed that these views were avowed officially; and we cannot but wonder at the indifference of the russian government, or the adroitness with which the chinese availed themselves of the aid of russia herself to compass their ends. but in the various interviews between aiouki and toulichen, the head of the embassy, the question of keeping up an intimacy between the two nations was largely discussed, and all necessary measures were arranged to avoid awakening the suspicions of russia, and thus closing the only means of communication that lay open to them.[ ] aiouki reigned about fifty years. after his death, in , the old dissensions broke out again among the kalmucks; russia made good use of the opportunity to break down the independence of the hordes by directly interfering in their domestic affairs, and their princes soon became subject to the imperial sceptre. thenceforth the dignity of khan was conferred only by the muscovite tzars, and the tribes were put under the special control of a russian commander called a _pristof_. after a long series of contests and intrigues, dondouk ombo, the son-in-law of aiouki, was named khan, to the prejudice of aiouki's grandson. under this prince internal peace was restored among the hordes, and the kalmucks did good service to russia in the campaigns against the nogaïs, and other inhabitants of the kouban. but quarrels broke out again on the death of dondouk ombo in . his children, who were minors, were set aside, and his ambitious and intriguing widow contrived to have dondouk dachi, her youngest brother, and grandson of the celebrated aiouki, declared vice-khan. the new chief was entirely devoted to russia, and his submissiveness was rewarded after the lapse of fifteen years by promotion to the rank of khan; but he enjoyed that dignity only four years. his son oubacha succeeded him as vice-khan in january, . in oubacha's reign new hordes arrived in europe, and the kalmucks were reinforced by , tents, commanded by chereng taidchi. the various tribes, which consisted of more than , families, and possessed innumerable herds of cattle, extended at that time from the shores of the jaïk to the don, and from zaritzin, on the volga, to the foot of the northern slopes of the caucasus. oubacha paid no tribute to russia; he was regarded rather as an ally than a vassal, and was only required to supply cavalry to the imperial armies in time of war. oubacha vigorously seconded the russians in their expedition against the turks and nogaïs. his army amounted to , horse, and one of its detachments figured even in the celebrated siege of otchakof. it was on the return of the kalmucks from these campaigns that their celebrated emigration took place, when nearly half a million of men, women, and children, headed by their prince, quitted the banks of the volga with their cattle, and set out across the most arid regions in quest of their old country. the flight of the kalmucks has been variously explained. b. bergmann attributes it solely to the vindictiveness of zebeck dorchi, a relation of oubacha's, who had been frustrated in his attempt to raise himself to sovereign power. after fruitless attempts at the court of the empress elizabeth, he had nevertheless been named first _sargatchi_, or councillor at the court of his rival. the imperial government hoped by this means to curb the ambition of oubacha, whose power it had abridged in , by deciding that the sargatchis, or members of the khan's council, should be attached to the ministry of foreign affairs, with an annual salary of rubles. according to bergmann, zebeck dorchi made no account of his new dignity, and unable to forgive russia for not having favoured his pretensions, he joined the hordes with a full determination to take signal vengeance. he would induce the kalmucks to go over to china, and thus deprive the empire of more than , subjects, and the army of the greater part of its best cavalry, and make all the neighbouring towns feel severely the loss of their cattle. such, according to bergmann, was zebeck dorchi's project, to realise which he counted solely on the natural fickleness of the kalmucks, and his own active intrigues. this was certainly a very extraordinary scheme of vengeance, and one we can hardly credit, notwithstanding bergmann's assertions. zebeck dorchi's aim being to secure the supreme power, it would have been folly for him to choose such means. it would have been much more to the purpose to have informed against oubacha at the moment when the latter was making his arrangements for quitting russia. such a service would have had its reward, and the informer would undoubtedly have supplanted his rival. this whole explanation of the affair given by bergmann, rests on no one positive fact, and can only have been devised by a man writing under russian influence, and consequently forced to disguise the truth. at the period of the kalmuck emigration catherine ii. filled the throne, and the russian government was beginning to adopt those principles of uniformity which so highly characterise its present policy. moreover, it was really impossible to allow that the whole southern portion of the empire should be given up to turbulent hordes, which, though nominally subjected to the crown, still indulged their propensity to pillage without scruple. placed as they were between the central and the southern provinces, and occupying almost all the approaches to the caucasus, the kalmucks were destined, of necessity, to lose their independence, and fall beneath the immediate yoke of russia. catherine's intentions were soon no secret, and oubacha saw that he must escape by flight from the encroachments of his powerful neighbours, if he would save what remained to him of the primitive authority of the khans. if we reflect, moreover, that the power of the kalmuck princes had been considerably abridged by the new organisation of their administrative council; that colonel kitchinskoi, then grand pristof, had excited the general indignation of the tribes by his harsh conduct; that the political and military exigencies of russia were continually on the increase; we shall have no difficulty in comprehending the real causes of the emigration of these mongol tribes. certainly it required all these combined motives to induce the kalmucks to undertake such a journey through desert regions, the inhabitants of which were their natural enemies. nevertheless, we believe the chinese government was not altogether unconcerned in bringing about oubacha's determination; for, as we shall see by and by, the emperor had already, in aiouki's time, sent the mandarin toulischin to the kalmucks, to assure them of his protection, in case they would return to their native country.[ ] it was on the th of january, , the day appointed by the high priests, that oubacha began his march, with , families. most of the hordes were then assembled in the steppes on the left bank of the volga, and the whole multitude followed him. only , families remained in russia, because the volga remained unfrozen to an unusual late period, and prevented them from crossing over to the rendezvous. oubacha arrived, without impediment, beyond the jaïk, but was afterwards vigorously assailed by the cossacks of the ural and the khirghis, and lost many men. after two months' marching, the exhausted hordes encamped on the irguitch, which falls into lake aksakal, to the north of the sea of aral. next they had to cross the frightful desert of chareh ousoun, where they were exposed to all the torments of thirst, and suffered indescribable disasters; after which they arrived at lake palkache nor, where many of them fell in a last encounter with the khirghis. oubacha then forced a passage through the country of the burats, and at last reached china, after a march of eight months. strange to say, the muscovite government took no energetic means to arrest the fugitives, and detain them in russia. general traubenberg, indeed, who was in command at orenberg, was sent in pursuit of them, but failed totally, whether from incapacity or otherwise. thus was accomplished the most extraordinary emigration of modern times; the empire was suddenly deprived of a pastoral and warlike people, whose habits accorded so well with the caspian steppes, and the regions in which many thousand families had fed their innumerable flocks and herds for a long series of years, were left desolate and unpeopled. we will now extract that portion of the memoirs of the jesuits, vol. i., in which father amiot recounts the arrival of the kalmucks in china, dated pekin, november th, . i copy this curious document from father amiot's original manuscript.[ ] "in the thirty-sixth year of kien long, that is to say, in the year of jesus christ, , all the tatars[ ] composing the nation of the torgouths[ ] arrived, after encountering a thousand perils, in the plains watered by the ily, entreating the favour to be admitted among the vassals of the great chinese empire. by their own account, they have abandoned for ever, and without regret, the sterile banks of the volga and the jaïk, along which the russians had formerly allowed them to settle, near where the two rivers empty themselves into the caspian. they have abandoned them, they say, _to come and admire more closely the brilliant lustre of the heavens, and at last to enjoy, like so many others, the happiness of having henceforth for master the greatest prince in the world_. notwithstanding the many battles in which they have been obliged to engage, defensively or offensively, with those through whose country they had to pass, and at whose expense they were necessarily compelled to live; notwithstanding the depredations committed on them by the vagrant tatars, who repeatedly attacked and plundered them on their march; notwithstanding the enormous fatigues endured by them in traversing more than , leagues, through one of the most difficult countries; notwithstanding hunger, thirst, misery, and an almost general scarcity of common necessaries, to which they were exposed during their eight months' journey, their numbers still amounted to , families when they arrived, and these , families, to use the language of the country, counted , mouths, without sensible error. among the russians carried off by them at their departure, were soldiers, at the head of whom was a monsieur dudin, doudin, or toutim,[ ] as the name is pronounced here. this name is probably not unknown in our part of the world. it is not at all like the common russian names. is it not that of some expatriated frenchman, who had found employment among the russians? be this as it may, had this officer been still alive in last august, when the emperor gave evidence to the torgouth princes whom he had summoned to gé ho, where he was enjoying the pleasures of the chase, he would certainly have been sent back with honour to muscovy. his majesty did not disdain to inquire personally as to this fact. 'is it true,' said he to one of the chiefs of the nation, 'that before your departure you plundered the possessions of the russians, and carried off one of their officers and of their soldiers?' 'we did so,' replied the torgouth prince, 'and could not help doing so, under the circumstances in which we were placed. as for the russian officer and his and odd soldiers, there is every reason to think that they all perished by the way. i remember that when the division was made, eight of them fell to me. i will inquire of my people whether any of these russians are still alive, and if so, i will send them to your majesty immediately on my return to ily.' "this year, , the thirty-seventh of the reign of kien long, those of the eleuths who were formerly dispersed over the vast regions known by the general name of tartary, some hordes of pourouths, and the rest of the nation of the torgouths, came like the others, and voluntarily submitted to a yoke which no one sought to impose on them. they were in number , families, which, added to the , of the preceding year, make a total of , mouths, who will unite their voices with those of the other subjects of the empire in proclaiming the marvels of one of the most glorious reigns that has been since the foundation of the monarchy. "so extraordinary and unexpected an event, happening when the empress mother's eighty-sixth year was celebrated here with a pomp becoming all the majesty of him who gives law to this empire, has been regarded by the emperor as an infallible mark of the goodness of that supreme heaven, of which he calls himself the son, and from which he glories in having unceasingly received the most signal favours since his accession to the throne: it is in this spirit he has caused the fact to be enrolled in the private archives of his nation, archives which, in the course of ages, will, perhaps, contrast in many points with those which will be published by the chinese historians, and with those, too, which some neighbouring nations may publish with reference to the same facts. the latter will, perhaps, impute political views and manoeuvres which have had no existence, whilst the former, in spite of certain appearances which may suggest the probability of intrigues and negotiations practised for the accomplishment of a preconcerted design, nevertheless state nothing but the truth, which will be somewhat hard to believe. if the testimony of a contemporary, and, as it were, ocular witness, who has no prejudice or interest in the matter, were necessary to establish that the fact i am about to speak of is among the number of those which are true in all circumstances, i would freely give it without fearing that any man, of the least information, could ever accuse me of error or partiality. be this as it may, until such time as history shall acquaint posterity with an event which he regards as one of the most glorious of his reign, the emperor has caused the statement and the date to be inscribed on stone in four languages spoken by the various nations subject to him, viz., the mantchous, mongols, torgouths, and chinese. this lapidary monument is to be erected at ily before the eyes of the torgouths, that it may be seen by all those nations i have named. having had an opportunity of procuring a copy from the original, taken by one of those who were employed in making the mantchou inscription, i have ventured to translate it. it would doubtless be very acceptable even as a literary specimen, had i been able to preserve in our language that noble simplicity, that energy and precision, which the emperor has given it in his own tongue. its contents are nearly as follows: "'_records of the transmigration of the torgouths, who voluntarily, and of their own full accord, came bodily as a nation, and submitted themselves to the empire of china._ "'those who, after having revolted, reflecting uneasily on a crime which they cannot yet be made to expiate, but for which they see full well that they will be punished sooner or later, beg permission to return beneath the yoke of obedience, are men who submit through fear; they are constrained subjects; those who having the option to undergo the yoke or not, yet come and submit themselves to it voluntarily, and of their own full accord, even when there is no thought of imposing it upon them, are men who have submitted only because such is their pleasure; they are subjects who have freely given themselves to him whom they have chosen to govern them. "'all those who now compose the nation of the torgouths, undismayed by the dangers of a long and toilsome journey, filled with the sole desire of procuring for the future a better manner of life and a happier lot, have abandoned the places where they dwelt far beyond our frontier, have traversed with unshakable courage a space of more than ten thousand leagues, and have ranged themselves, of their own accord, among the number of my subjects. their submission to me is not a submission inspired by fear, but a voluntary and free submission, if ever such there was. "'after having pacified the western frontiers of my dominions, i caused the lands of my domain which are on the ily to be put under tillage, and i diminished the tribute heretofore imposed on the neighbouring mahometans. i enacted that the hasacks and the pourouths should together form the external limits of the empire on that side, and should be governed on the footing of the foreign hordes. as regards the nations of the antchiyen and the badakchan, as they are still more remote, i determined to leave them free to pay or not to pay tribute. "'no one needs blush when he can limit his desires; no one has occasion to fear when he knows how to desist in due time. such are the sentiments that actuate me. in all places under heaven, to the remotest corners beyond the sea, there are men who obey under the names of slaves or subjects. shall i persuade myself that they are all submitted to me, and that they own themselves my vassals? far from me be so chimerical a pretension. what i persuade myself, and what is strictly true, is that the torgouths, without any interference on my part, have come of their own full accord to live henceforth under my laws. heaven has, no doubt, inspired them with this design; they have only obeyed heaven in putting it in force. i should do wrong not to commemorate this event in an authentic monument. "'the torgouths are a branch of the eleuths. four branches formerly constituted the entire nation of the tchong kars.[ ] it would be difficult to explain their common origin, respecting which moreover nothing very certain is known. these four branches separated, and each formed a distinct nation. that of the eleuths, the chief of them all, gradually subdued the others, and continued until the time of kang hi, to exercise over them the pre-eminence it had usurped. tsé ouang raptan then reigned over the eleuths, and aiouki over the torgouths. these two leaders, at variance with each other, had disputes, to which aiouki, the weaker of the two, feared he should be the unhappy victim. he conceived the design of withdrawing for ever from beneath the sway of the eleuths.[ ] he took secret measures to secure the flight he meditated, and escaped with all his followers to the lands under the sway of the russians, who permitted him to settle in the country of etchil.[ ] "'cheng tsou jin hoang ty, my grandfather, wishing to be informed of the true reasons that had induced aiouki thus to expatriate himself, sent him the mandarin toulichen[ ] and some others to assure him of his protection in case he desired to return to the country where he had formerly dwelt. the russians, to whom toulichen was ordered to apply for permission to pass through their country, granted it without difficulty; but as they gave him no information as to what he was in quest of, it took him three years and some months to fulfil his commission. it was not until after his return that the desired information respecting aiouki and his people was at last possessed. "'oubacha, who is now khan of the torgouths, is great grandson of aiouki. the russians, never ceasing to require soldiers of him to be incorporated in their troops, having at last taken his own son from him as a hostage, and being besides of a different religion from himself, and making no account of that of the lamas which the torgouths profess, oubacha and his people finally determined to shake off a yoke which was daily becoming more and more insupportable. "'after having secretly deliberated among themselves, they resolved to quit an abode where they had to suffer so much, and come and dwell in the countries subject to china, where the religion of fo is professed. "'in the beginning of the eleventh moon of last year, they began their march with their women and children and all their baggage, traversed the country of the hasacks, passed along the shores of lake palkache nor and through the adjoining deserts; and towards the close of the sixth moon of this year, after having completed more than , leagues in the eight months of their wayfaring, they at last arrived on the frontiers of chara pen, not far from the banks of the ily. i was already aware that the torgouths were on their march to submit themselves to me, the news having been brought me shortly after their departure from etchil. i then reflected that iletou, general of the troops at ily, having already been charged with other very important affairs, it was to be feared that he could not regulate those of the new comers with all the requisite attention. "'chouhédé, one of the general's councillors, was at ouché, employed in maintaining order among the mahometans. as he was at hand to attend to the torgouths, i ordered him to repair to ily, that he might use his best efforts to establish them solidly. "'those who fancy they see danger everywhere, failed not to make their representations to me on this matter. 'among those who are come to make their submission,' said they, with one voice, 'is the perfidious chereng. that traitor, after having deceived tangalou, put him to death miserably, and took refuge among the russians. he who has once deceived may do so again. let us beware; we cannot be too much on our guard. to give welcome to one who comes of his own accord to make submission, is to give reception to an enemy.' upon these representations i conceived some distrust, and gave orders that some preparations should be made to meet every contingency. i reflected, however, with all the maturity required by an affair of such importance, and my reiterated reflections at last convinced me that what i was told to fear could not possibly come to pass. could chereng alone have been able to persuade a whole nation? could he have put oubacha and all the torgouths, his subjects, in motion? what likelihood is there that so many men would willingly have inconvenienced themselves to follow a private individual--would have entered into his views--and run the risk of perishing of hunger and wretchedness with him? besides this, the russians, from whose sway they have ventured to withdraw themselves, are like myself, masters of a great realm. if the torgouths were come with the intention of insulting my frontiers, and settling there by force, could they hope that i would leave them undisturbed there? can they have persuaded themselves that i would not stir to expel them? and if they are expelled, whither can they retire? can they dare to hope that the russians, whom they have treated with ingratitude in abandoning them as they have done, will condescend to receive them back with impunity, and allow them to resume possession of the ground they accorded to them formerly? had the torgouths been actuated by any other motive than that of wishing to submit sincerely to me, they would be without support on either side; they would be between two fires. of ten arguments for and against, there are nine to show that there is nothing in their proceeding to excite suspicion. among these ten arguments is there one tending to prove that they entertain any secret views? if so, the future will unmask them, and then i will act as circumstances shall require. what was to happen at the time i made these reflections, has happened at last. it has proved the accuracy of my reasoning, and exactly verified what i had predicted. "'nevertheless i neglected none of the precautions that seemed to me necessary. i ordered chouhédé to erect forts and redoubts in the most important places, and have all the passes strictly guarded. i enjoined him to exert himself personally in procuring necessary provisions of all kinds in the interior, whilst fit persons, carefully chosen by him, should make every arrangement for securing quiet without. "'the torgouths arrived; and at once found lodging, food, and all the conveniences they could have enjoyed each in his own dwelling. nor was this all; the principal men among them, who were to come in person and pay homage to me, were conducted with honour and free of expense by the imperial post-roads to the place where i then was. i saw them, spoke to them, and was pleased that they should enjoy the pleasures of the chase with me; and after the days allotted to that recreation were ended, they repaired in my suite to ge ho. there i gave them the banquet of ceremony, and made them the ordinary presents with the same pomp and state as i am accustomed to employ when i give solemn audience to tchering and the chiefs of the tourbeths (_the derbetes of the russians_), of whom he is the leader. "'it was at ge ho, in those charming scenes where kang hi, my grandfather, made himself an abode to which he might retire during the hot season, and at the same time put himself in a position to watch more closely over the welfare of the people beyond the western frontiers of the empire; it was, i say, in that delightful spot, that having conquered the whole of the country of the eleuths, i received the sincere homage of tchering and his tourbeths, who alone among the eleuths, had remained true to me. it is not necessary to go back many years to reach the term of that epoch; the memory of it is still quite recent. "'who would have said it! when i had the least reason to expect it--when i was not even thinking of it--that branch of the eleuths which had been the first to separate from the trunk, the torgouths who had voluntarily expatriated themselves to live under an alien and remote dominion, those very torgouths came of themselves and submitted to me of their own free will; and it was at ge ho, near the venerable spot where rest the ashes of my grandfather, that i had the unsought opportunity of solemnly admitting them among the number of my subjects. "'now, indeed, it may be said, without fear of overstepping the truth, that the whole nation of the mongols is subject to our dynasty of tay tsing, since it is from it in fact that all the hordes composing it now receive laws. my august grandfather conjectured this result; he foresaw that it would happen one day; what would have been his delight to know that that day was actually come! "'it is under the reign of my humble person that the conjectures of that great prince are realised, and what he had foreseen is fully accomplished. what token can i give him of gratitude proportioned to what i owe him! what profound homage, what respectful sentiments can clear my account with heaven for the constant protection with which it deigns to honour me! i tremble under the apprehension of not bearing sufficiently at heart those obligations with which i ought to be wholly filled, or of not being sufficiently attentive to fulfil them entirely. after all i have no thought of imputing to my own virtue and merits the voluntary submission, or the arrival of the torgouths in my dominions. i will strive to behave, in this respect, as well as i possibly can. no sooner were the torgouths arrived than the representations began anew. 'these people,' i was told 'are rebels who have withdrawn from the sway of the russians; we are not free to receive them. it is to be feared that if we gave them a favourable reception it would occasion animosities and some troubles on our frontiers.' 'let not that alarm you,' i replied. 'chereng was formerly my subject; he revolted and took refuge among the russians, and they received him. repeatedly did i request them to give him up to me, but they would not. and now chereng, acknowledging his fault, comes and surrenders voluntarily. what i here say, i have already said to the russians in the fullest detail, and i have completely reduced them to silence.' "'what! was it to be supposed that for considerations no way binding upon me, i should have suffered so many thousand human beings to perish, after they had arrived on the verge of our frontiers almost half dead with wretchedness and famine! 'but,' it was objected, 'they have plundered by the way; they have carried off provisions and cattle.' and suppose they have, how could they have preserved their lives without doing so? who would have supplied them with the means of existence? 'watch so well,' says an old chinese proverb, 'that you may never be surprised; keep such careful guard that perfect security may reign even in your deserts.' "'with regard to the ily country where i have allowed them to take up their abode, though i have very recently caused a town to be built there, that place is not yet strong enough to protect the frontiers in that direction, and hinder the brigands from continuing to insult them. those who inhabit the country are employed only in tilling the ground and feeding cattle. how could they protect themselves? how could they secure the peace of those deserts? general iletou being informed of the approach of the torgouths, failed not to acquaint me with the fact. if through fear of the uncertain future, or considerations unsuited to the circumstances of the case, i had determined to have the border strictly guarded, and to have a stop put to the march of the torgouths, what should i have gained thereby? driven to despair, would they not have rushed into the most violent excesses? an ordinary private individual would be justly stigmatised as inhuman, were he to behold strangers from a far country exhausted with fatigue, bowed down by wretchedness, and ready to breathe out their last gasp, and not take the trouble to succour them; and shall a great prince, whose first duty it is to try to imitate heaven in his manner of governing men, shall he leave a whole nation that implores his clemency to perish for want of aid? far from us be such vile thoughts! farther still be conduct conformable to them! no, we will never adopt such cruel sentiments. the torgouths came, i received them; they wanted even the commonest necessaries of life; i provided them with every thing abundantly; i opened for them my granaries and my coffers, my stalls and my studs. out of the former i bestowed on them what was requisite for their present wants; from the latter i desired that they should be supplied with the means of providing for themselves in time to come. i intrusted the management of this important affair to those of my grandees whose disinterestedness and enlightenment were already known to me. i hope and trust that every thing will be done to the entire satisfaction of the torgouths. it is needless to say more in this place. my intention has only been to give a summary of what has come to pass."[ ] footnotes: [ ] "narrative of the chinese embassy to the khan of torgouth tartars, in the years , ' , ' and ' , by the chinese ambassador, and published by the emperor's authority at pekin." london. i am indebted to the kindness of baron walckenaer for an acquaintance with this work. [ ] the flight of the kalmucks has also been attributed to prince chereng taidchi, of whom mention has been made above. this version of the matter seems to us improbable. chereng had left china as an outlaw, and it is not to be supposed that he was favourable to the emigration, notwithstanding the impatience with which he endured the yoke of russia. it appears, on the contrary, that he never ceased to protest against the resolution adopted by oubacha. [ ] the ms. belongs to m. ternaux compans, who has obligingly placed at my disposal all the rich stores of his valuable library. [ ] here again we see that the chinese give the name of tatars to the mongols, which confirms our opinion, that the denomination we give to the mussulman subjects of southern russia is incorrect. we have substituted tatar for the word tartar in the ms. [ ] the chinese doubtless adopted the name torgouth, because the fugitive kalmucks consisted, in a great measure, of that tribe. the kalmucks that remained in russia are almost all derbetes and koschoots. [ ] russian documents confirm the fact, that a captain of this name commanding a russian detachment was carried off by the fugitive kalmucks. [ ] there is here, evidently, a confusion of names. the soongars, or tchong-kars, as the chinese call them, are a branch of the eleuths, and are the very nation who played the important part here attributed to the eleuths in general. [ ] this assertion seems totally erroneous. the torgouths arrived in russia in , and aiouki was not raised to the dignity of khan until ; he could not, therefore, have acted the part here ascribed to him. the relation of the chinese embassy to aiouki ( - ) likewise confirms in all points the inaccuracy of the emperor kien long's historical version. at that period china was a country almost unknown to the kalmucks, and aiouki, in all his conferences with the ambassadors, was continually asking for information of all kinds respecting the celestial empire. [ ] the part of southern russia comprised between the volga and the jaïk. the tatars also gave the name of etchil to the volga. [ ] here the emperor's words are altogether at variance with the report of the chinese embassy, of which toulischin was the leader. chapter xxv. the kalmucks after the departure of oubacha--division of the hordes, limits of their territory--the turkoman and tatar tribes in the governments of astrakhan and the caucasus-- christian kalmucks--agricultural attempts--physical, social, and moral, characteristics of the kalmucks. after the departure of oubacha, the kalmucks that remained in russia were deprived of their special jurisdiction, and for more than thirty years had neither khan nor vice-khan. it was not until , that the emperor paul, in one of his inexplicable caprices, thought fit to re-establish the office of vice-khan, and bestowed it on prince tchoutchei, an influential kalmuck of the race of the derbetes. the administration of the hordes, which had been under the control of the governor of astrakhan since , was again made independent, the functions of the russian pristofs were limited, and they could no longer abuse their power so much as they had done. but upon the death of tchoutchei, the kalmucks again came under the russian laws and tribunals; they lost all their privileges irrevocably, and the sovereignty of the khans and of the vice-khans disappeared for ever. the complete subjection of the kalmucks was not, however, effected without some difficulty. discontent prevailed among them in the highest degree, but their attempts at revolt were all fruitless. hemmed in on all sides by lines of cossacks, the tribes were constrained to accept the russian sway in all its extent. the only remarkable incident of their last struggles was a partial emigration into the cossack country. this insubordination excited the tzar's utmost wrath, and he despatched an extraordinary courier to astrakhan, with orders to arrest the high priest and the principal chiefs of the hordes, and send them to st. petersburg. before leaving astrakhan, these two kalmucks engaged a certain maximof to act as their interpreter, and plead their cause before the emperor. but when the two captives arrived in st. petersburg, the emperor's fit of anger was quite over; they were received extremely well, and instead of being chastised, they returned to the steppes invested with a new russian dignity. they took leave publicly of the tzar, and this audience was turned to good account by their interpreter. in presenting their thanks to his majesty, that very clever person, knowing he ran no risk of being contradicted, made paul believe that the kalmucks earnestly entreated that his imperial majesty would grant him, also, an honorary grade in recompense for his good services. the tzar was taken in by the trick, and maximof quitted the court with the title of major. the man still lived in astrakhan when we visited the town, and did not hesitate to tell us the story with his own lips. though entirely subjected to the russian laws, the kalmucks have an administrative committee, which is occupied exclusively with their affairs. it resides in astrakhan, and consists of a president, two russian judges, and two kalmuck deputies. the latter, of course, are appointed only for form sake, and have no influence over the decisions of the council. the president of the committee is what the russians call the curator-general of the kalmucks. in , this post had been filled for many years by m. fadiew, a man of integrity and capacity, and the tribes owed to his wise administration a state of tranquillity they had not enjoyed for a long while. to each camp there is also attached a superintendent, called a pristof, with some cossacks under his orders. all matters of litigation are decided in accordance with the russian code, but criminal cases are extremely rare, owing to the pacific character of the kalmucks, and the interposition of their chiefs. the kalmuck hordes are divided into two great classes, those belonging respectively to princes and to the crown; but all are amenable to the same laws and the same tribunals. the former pay a tax of twenty-five rubles to their princes, who have the right of taking from among them all the persons they require for their domestic service, and they are bound to maintain a police and good order within their camp. every chief, has, at his command, several subaltern chiefs called _zaizans_, who have the immediate superintendence of or tents. their office is nearly hereditary. he who fills it enjoys the title of prince, but this is not shared by the other members of his family. the zaizans are entitled to a contribution of two rubles from every kibitka under their command. the hordes of the crown come under more direct russian surveillance. they paid no tax at first, and were bound to military service in the same way as the cossacks; but they have been exempted from it since , and now pay merely a tax of twenty-five rubles for each family. the princely hordes, likewise, used to supply troops for the frontier service; but this was changed in , and since then the kalmucks have been free from all military service, and pay only twenty-five rubles per tent to their princes, and . to the crown. besides the two great divisions we have just mentioned, the kalmucks are also distinguished into various _oulousses_, or hordes, belonging to sundry princes. each _oulousse_ has its own camping-ground for summer and winter. the kalmuck territory has been considerably reduced since the departure of oubacha; it now comprises but a small extent of country on the left bank of the volga, and the khirghis of the inner horde now occupy the steppes between the ural and the volga. the present limits of european kalmuckia are to the north and east, the volga as far as latitude deg.; a line drawn from that point to the mouths of the volga, parallel with the course of the river, and at a distance from it of about forty miles; and, lastly, the caspian sea as far as the kouma. on the south, the boundary is the kouma and a line drawn from that river, below vladimirofka, to the upper part of the course of the kougoultcha. the egorlik, and a line passing through the sources of the different rivers that fall into the don, form the frontiers on the west. the whole portion of the steppes included between the volga, the frontiers of the government of saratof and the country of the don cossacks, and the th degree of north latitude, forms the summer camping-ground of the following oulousses: karakousofsky, iandikofsky, great derbet, belonging to prince otshir kapshukof; little derbet, belonging to prince tondoudof, and ikytsokourofsky, which is now without a proprietor; its prince having died childless, it is not known who is to have his inheritance. the whole territory comprises about , , hectares of land; , were detached from it in by prince tondoudof, and presented to the cossacks, in return for which act of generosity the crown conferred on him the rank of captain. he gave a splendid ball on the occasion at astrakhan, which cost upwards of , rubles. we saw him in that town at the governor's soirées, where he made a very poor figure; yet he is the richest of all the kalmuck princes, for he possesses tents, and his income amounts, it is said, to more than , rubles. the kalmucks occupy in all , , hectares of land, of which , , are in the government of astrakhan, and , , in that of the caucasus. these figures which cannot be expected to be mathematically exact, are the result of my own observations, and of the assertions of the kalmucks, compared with some surveys made by order of the administrative committee. besides the kalmucks, the only legitimate proprietors of the soil, other nomades also intrude upon these steppes. such are the turcomans, called troushmens by the russians. they have their own lands in the government of the caucasus, between the kouma and the terek; but as the countless swarms of gnats infesting those regions in summer render them almost uninhabitable for camels and other cattle, the turcomans pass the kouma of their own authority, with some nogaï hordes, who are in the same predicament, encamp amidst the kalmucks, and occupy during all the fine weather a great part of the steppes between the kouma and the manitch. this intrusion has often been strongly resented by the kalmucks, and the authorities have been obliged to interfere to appease the strife. but as it is absolutely requisite to allot a summer camping-ground to the turcomans, the government is not a little perplexed how to cut the gordian knot. an expedient, however, was adopted during our stay in astrakhan. it was determined to take from the kalmucks a portion of the territory they possess along the kalaous, and of which they make no use, and bestow it upon the turcomans. this ground being completely isolated, it was furthermore decided that there should be allowed a road six kilometres wide (three miles six furlongs) for the passage of their flocks. nothing can convey a more striking picture of these arid regions than this scheme of a road nearly four miles wide, extending for more than sixty leagues. the turcomans entered russia in the train of the kalmucks, whose slaves they appear to have been. they are now much mixed up with the nogaïs, like whom they profess mohammedanism. they reckon tents. the only obligation imposed on them is to convey the corn destined for the army of the caucasus. they receive their loads at koumskaia, where the vessels from astrakhan discharge their cargoes, and thence they repair to the terek and often to tiflis in georgia. this service is regarded by them as very onerous, and they have long requested permission to pay their taxes in money. they use in this business carts with two wheels of large diameter, drawn by oxen, for camels and horses are scarcely ever employed. the turcomans have preserved the good old customs of their native country; they are the greatest plunderers in the steppes, and the only people whom there is any real cause to regard with distrust. before the end of summer, in the latter part of august, the turcomans begin to retire behind the kouma, into the government of the caucasus. a tatar horde called sirtof likewise encamps on the lands of the kalmucks, within sixty miles of astrakhan, on the road to kisliar. it reckons but tents, and as the lands it occupies are of little importance, no one thinks of troubling it. lastly are to be enumerated families of kalmucks, improperly called christians, who occupy the two banks of the kouma, between vladimirofka and the caspian. some russian missionaries attempted their conversion towards the close of the last century, but their proselytising efforts, based on force, were fruitless, and produced nothing but revolts. since then these kalmucks, some of whom had suffered themselves to be baptised, were called christians, chiefly for the purpose of distinguishing them from those who are not bound like themselves to military service. they are chiefly employed in guarding the salt pools, and belong, under the denomination of cossacks, to the regiment of mosdok. the government feeds them and their horses when they are on actual service, but they still pay a tax for every head of cattle, the amount of which goes into the regimental chest. these kalmucks having no camping-ground of their own, have long been soliciting to have one assigned them. the government offered them ground in the environs of stavropol, the capital of the caucasian government, but they refused it for fear of the incursions of the circassians. these nominal christians are with the turcomans the most dangerous people in the steppes. their attacks are not at all to be feared by day; but at night it is necessary to keep a sharp look out after one's camels and horses; for in these deserts to rob a traveller of his means of transport is almost to take his life. as will be seen from what we have stated above, the summer encampments of the kalmuck hordes are situated in the most northern parts of the country, where there is the richest pasture, and where the cattle suffer least from flies in the hot weather. the emigration to the north is almost general; only a few very needy families, who have no cattle, remain in the winter camp, keeping as near as possible to the post stations and inhabited places, in hopes of procuring employment. in the beginning of the cold season the hordes return to the south, along the banks of the caspian and the kouma, where they fix themselves among the forests of rushes that supply them with firing and fodder for their cattle. in all these regions destitute of forests, reeds are of immense importance, and nature has liberally distributed them along all the rivers of the steppes, and in all the numerous bottom lands that flank the caspian. the inhabitants of astrakhan make a regular and systematic use of them, employing them not only for fuel, but also for roofing their houses, and for thatching their waggons laden with salt or fish, which they send into the interior of the country. it is in spring, before the floods caused by the melting of the snow, that the reeds begin to sprout. their stalks, which are as thick as a finger, soon shoot up to the height of twelve or thirteen feet. those that grow on the banks of the volga are never quite covered in the highest floods. the beginning of winter is the season for laying in a stock of reeds, and it is customary to burn all those that are not cut and carried off, in order that the dead stalks may not hinder the growth of the young shoots. the ceremony attending the departure of the hordes in spring is not without interest. the kalmuck chiefs never begin a march without making an offering to the bourkhan, or god of the river, as an acknowledgment of the protection vouchsafed to their camp during the winter. to this end they repair in great pomp to the banks of the kouma, accompanied by their families and a large body of priests, and throw several pieces of silver money into the river, at the same time invoking its future favours. according to the official documents communicated to me, the kalmuck population does not appear to exceed , families. on this head, however, it is impossible to arrive at very exact statistics, for the princes having themselves to pay the crown dues, have of course an interest in making the population seem as small as possible. i am inclined to believe, from sundry facts, that the number of the tents is scarcely under , . at all events, it seems ascertained that the kalmuck population has remained stationary for the last sixty years, a fact which is owing to the ravages of disease, such as small-pox, and others of the cutaneous kind. the kalmucks, all of them nomades, are exclusively engaged in rearing cattle, and know nothing whatever of agriculture. they breed camels, oxen, sheep, and above all, horses, of which they have an excellent description, small, but strong, agile, and of great endurance. i have ridden a kalmuck horse often eighteen and even twenty-five leagues without once dismounting. the russian cavalry is mounted chiefly on horses from the caspian steppes: the average price of a good horse is from to rubles. formerly the kalmucks used to send their horses to the great fairs of poland, paying a duty of . rubles on every horse sold; but the duty was raised to . rubles in , for every horse arriving in the fair, and this unlucky measure immediately destroyed all trade with poland. the business of horse-breeding has diminished immensely ever since in the caspian steppes. the government afterwards returned to the old rate of duty; but the mischief was done, and the kalmucks did not again appear in their old markets. it is impossible to know, even approximately, the amount of cattle belonging to the tribes, for the kalmucks are too superstitious ever to acknowledge the number of their stock. from various data i collected at astrakhan, and from the superintendents of the hordes, we may estimate that the kalmucks possess on the whole from , to , horses, about , camels, , kine, and nearly a million sheep. prince tumene is the only one of the kalmucks who has engaged in agriculture, and his attempts have been exceedingly favoured by the character of the soil in his domains on the left bank of the volga. his produce consists of grain, grapes, and all kinds of fruit. he has even tried to manufacture champagne wine, but with little success; and when we visited him, he entreated me to send him a good work on the subject, that he might begin his operations again on an improved plan. prince tondoudof is also striving to follow in prince tumene's footsteps. he has lately marked out a large space in the steppes for the fixed residence of a part of his kalmucks, but i greatly doubt that his wishes can ever be realised. he has for many years possessed a very handsome dwelling, but he has not yet been able to give up his tent, so strong is the attachment of all this race to a nomade life. but the most potent obstacle to the establishment of a permanent colony consists in the nature of the soil itself. we have traversed the kalmuck steppes in almost all directions, and found everywhere only an argillaceous, sandy, or salt soil, generally unsuited to agriculture. where there is pasture, the grass is so short and thin, that the ground exactly resembles the appearance of the steppes of the black sea, when the grass begins to grow again after the conflagrations of winter. hence the kalmucks are continually on the move to find fresh pasture for their cattle, and seldom remain in one spot for more than a month or six weeks. but the most serious obstacle to agriculture is the want of fresh water. the few brooks that run through the steppes are dry during the greater part of the year, and the summers are generally without rain. the cold, too, is as intolerable as the heat: for four months the thermometer is almost always steady at twenty-eight degrees of reaumur in the shade, and very often it rises to thirty-two; then when winter sets in it falls to twenty-eight degrees below zero. thus, there is a difference of nearly sixty degrees between the winter and the summer temperature. if in addition to these changes of temperature we consider the total flatness of the country, exposed without any shelter to the violence of the north and east winds, it will easily be conceived how unfavourable it must be to agriculture. a nomade life seems therefore to me a necessity for the kalmucks, and until the development of civilisation among them shall make them feel the need of fixed dwellings, they must be left free to wander over their steppes. moreover, in applying themselves exclusively to pastoral pursuits, they render much greater service to russia than if they employed themselves in cultivating a stubborn and thankless soil. no doubt there are numerous oases scattered over these immense plains, just as in other deserts, and agriculture might have some success in the northern parts; but these favourable spots are all situated amid wildernesses where the cultivators would find no markets for their produce. in spite of all these drawbacks, the russian government still persists in its endeavours to colonise the kalmucks, and strives with all its might to introduce among them its system of uniformity. but its efforts have hitherto been quite fruitless; the hordes are now, perhaps, more than ever attached to their vagrant way of life, in which they find at least a compensation for the privileges and the independence of which they have been deprived. the kalmucks, like most other nations, are divided into three orders, nobles, clergy, and commons; the members of the aristocracy assume the name of _white bones_, whilst the common people are called _black bones_. the priests belong indifferently to either class, but those that issue from the ranks of the people do not easily succeed in effacing the stain of their origin. the prejudices of noble birth are, however, much less deeply rooted at this day than formerly, a natural consequence of the destruction of the power of the khans and the princes, and the complete subjection of the hordes to the laws and customs of the empire. bergmann's account has therefore become quite inapplicable to the present state of things, and can only give false notions of the constitution of the kalmucks. among the asiatic races there is none whose features are so distinctly characterised as those of the mongols. paint one individual and you paint the whole nation. in , the celebrated painter, isabey, after seeing a great number of kalmucks, observed so striking a resemblance between them, that having to take the likeness of prince tumene, and perceiving that the prince was very restless at the last sittings, he begged him to send one of his servants in his stead. in that way the painter finished the portrait, which turned out to be a most striking likeness, as i myself can testify. all the kalmucks have eyes set obliquely, with eyelids little opened, scanty black eyebrows, noses deeply depressed near the forehead, prominent cheek-bones, spare beards, thin moustaches, and a brownish yellow skin. the lips of the men are thick and fleshy, but the women, particularly those of high rank, have heart-shaped mouths of no common beauty. all have enormous ears, projecting strongly from the head, and their hair is invariably black. the kalmucks are generally small, but with figures well rounded, and an easy carriage. very few deformed persons are seen among them, for with more good sense than ourselves, they leave the development of their children's frames entirely to nature, and never put any kind of garment on them until the age of nine or ten. no sooner are they able to walk, than they mount on horseback, and apply themselves with all their hearts to wrestling and riding, the chief amusements of the tribes. the portrait we have drawn of the kalmucks is certainly not very engaging; but their own notions of beauty are very different from ours. a kalmuck princess has been named to us, who, though frightfully ugly in european eyes, nevertheless, passed for such a marvel of loveliness among her own people, that after having had a host of suitors, she was at last carried off by force by one of her admirers. like all inhabitants of vast plains, the kalmucks have exceedingly keen sight. an hour after sunset they can still distinguish a camel at a distance of three miles or more. very often when i perceived nothing but a point barely visible on the horizon, they clearly made out a horseman armed with his lance and gun. they have also an extraordinary faculty for wending their way through their pathless wildernesses. without the least apparent mark to guide them, they traverse hundreds of miles with their flocks, without ever wandering from the right course. the costume of the common kalmucks is not marked by any very decided peculiarity, the cap alone excepted. it is invariably of yellow cloth trimmed with black lambskin, and is worn by both sexes. i am even tempted to think that there are some superstitious notions connected with it, seeing the difficulty i experienced in procuring one as a specimen. the trousers are wide and open below. persons in good circumstances wear two long tunics, one of which is tied round the waist, but the usual dress consists only of trousers and a jacket of skin with tight sleeves. we have already described the garb of the women. the men shave a part of their heads, and the rest of the hair is gathered into a single mass, which hangs on their shoulders. the women wear two tresses, and this is really the only visible criterion of their sex. the princes have almost all adopted the circassian costume, or the uniform of the cossacks of astrakhan, to which body some of them belong. the ordinary foot gear is red boots with very high heels, and generally much too short. the kalmucks, like the chinese, greatly admire small feet, and as they are constantly on horseback, their short boots, which would be torturing to us, cause them no inconvenience. but they are very bad pedestrians; the form of their boots obliges them to walk on their toes, and they are exceedingly distressed when they have not a horse to mount. they never set out on a journey unarmed. they usually carry a poniard and a long asiatic gun, generally a matchlock. the camel is the beast they commonly ride, guiding it by a string passed through its nostrils, which gives them complete command over the animal. they have long quite abandoned the use of bows and arrows; the gun, the lance, and the dagger being now their only weapons. cuirasses, too, have become useless to them. i saw a few admirable specimens at prince tumene's, which appeared to be of persian manufacture, and were valued at from fifty to a hundred horses. in spite of the precepts of buddhism which forbid them to kill any sort of animal, the kalmucks are skilful sportsmen with hawk and gun. they almost always shoot in the manner of the old arquebusiers, resting the gun on a long fork which plays upon an axis fixed at the extremity of the barrel. the kalmucks, like all pastoral people, live very frugally. dairy produce forms their chief aliment, and their favourite beverage is tea. they eat meat also, particularly horse flesh, which they prefer to any other, but very well done and not raw as some writers have asserted. as for cereal food, which the natives of europe prize so highly, the kalmucks scarcely know its use; it is only at rare intervals that some of them buy bread or oatcake from the neighbouring russians. their tea is prepared in a very peculiar manner. it comes to them from china, in the shape of very hard bricks composed of the leaves and coarsest parts of the plant. after boiling it a considerable time in water, they add milk, butter, and salt. the infusion then acquires consistency, and becomes of a dirty red-yellow colour. we tasted the beverage at prince tumene's, but must confess it was perfectly detestable, and instantly reminded us of madame gibou's incredible preparation. they say, however, that it is easy to accustom oneself to this tea, and that at last it is thought delicious. at all events it has one good quality. by strongly exciting perspiration, it serves as an excellent preservative against the effects of sudden chills. the kalmucks drink their tea out of round shallow little wooden vessels, to which they often attach a very high value. i have seen several which were priced at two or three horses. they are generally made of roots brought from asia. it is superfluous to say that the kalmucks, knowing nothing of the use of teakettles, prepare their infusion in large iron pots. next to tea there is no beverage they are so fond of as spirituous liquors. they manufacture a sort of brandy from mare's or cow's milk; but as it is very weak, and has little action on the brain, they seek after russian liquors with intense eagerness, so that to prevent the pernicious consequences of this passion, the government has been obliged to prohibit the establishment of any dram shops among the hordes. the women are as eager after the fatal liquor as the men, but they have seldom an opportunity to indulge their taste, for their lords and masters watch them narrowly in this respect. the kalmuck kitchen is disgustingly filthy. a housekeeper would think herself disgraced if she washed her utensils with water. when she has to clean a vessel, no matter of what sort, she merely empties out its contents, and polishes the inside with the back of her hand. often have i had pans of milk brought to me that had been cleansed in this ingenious manner. however, as we have already remarked, the interior of the tents by no means exhibits the filth with which this people has been often charged. among the kalmucks, like most oriental nations, the stronger sex considers all household cares derogatory to its dignity, and leaves them entirely to the women, whose business it is to cook, take care of the children, keep the tents in order, make up the garments and furs of the family, and attend to the cattle. the men barely condescend to groom their horses; they hunt, drink tea or brandy, stretch themselves out on felts, and smoke or sleep. add to these daily occupations some games, such as chess, and that played with knuckle-bones, and you have a complete picture of the existence of a kalmuck _pater familias_. the women are quite habituated to their toilsome life, and make cheerful and contented housewives; but they grow old fast, and after a few years of wedlock become frightfully ugly. their appearance then differs not at all from that of the men; their masculine forms, the shape of their features, their swarthy complexion, and the identity of costume often deceive the most practised eye. we twice visited the kalmucks, and the favourable opinion we conceived of them from the first was never shaken. they are the most pacific people imaginable; in analysing their physiognomy, it is impossible to believe that a malicious thought can enter their heads. we invariably encountered the frankest and most affable hospitality among them, and our arrival in a camp was always hailed by the joyful shouts of the whole tribe hurrying to meet us. according to bergmann's book he seems not to have fared so well at their hands, and he revenges himself by painting them in a very odious light. but it must not be forgotten that bergmann was, above all things, clerical, and that he could not fail to be looked on with dislike by the kalmucks, who had already endured so many attempts of missionaries to convert them. it is, therefore, by no means surprising if he was not always treated with the deference he had a right to exact. as for that pride of the great men and that impudence of the vulgar, which so deeply stirred the indignation of the livonian traveller, these are defects common enough in all countries, and even among nations that make the greatest boast of their liberality; it would be unjust, therefore, to visit them too severely in the case of the kalmucks. a very marked characteristic of these tribes is their sociability. they seldom eat alone, and often entertain each other; it is even their custom, before tasting their food, to offer a part of it to strangers, or, if none are present, to children; the act is in their eyes both a work of charity, and a sort of propitiatory offering in acknowledgment of the bounty of the deity. their dwellings are felt tents, called _kibitkas_ by the russians. they are four or five yards in diameter, cylindrical to the height of a man's shoulder, with a conical top, open at the apex to let the smoke escape. the frame is light, and can be taken asunder for the convenience of carriage. the skeleton of the roof consists of a wooden ring, forming the aperture for the smoke, and of a great number of small spars supporting the ring, and resting on the upper circumference of the cylindrical frame. the whole tent is light enough to be carried by two camels. a kibitka serves for a whole family; men, women, and children sleep in it promiscuously without any separation. in the centre there is always a trivet, on which stands the pot used for cooking tea and meat. the floor is partly covered with felts, carpets, and mats; the couches are opposite the door, and the walls of the tent are hung with arms, leathern vessels, household utensils, quarters of meat, &c. among the most important occupations of these people are the distillation of spirits, and the manufacture of felts, to which a certain season of the year is appropriated. for the latter operation the men themselves awake out of their lethargy, and condescend to put their hands to the work. they make two kinds of felt, grey and white. the price of the best is ten or twelve rubles for the piece of eight yards by two. the kalmucks are also very expert in making leathern vessels for liquids, of all shapes and sizes, with extremely small throats. the women tan the skins after a manner which the curious in these matters will find described by the celebrated traveller, pallas. the priests, moreover, manufacture some very peculiar tea-caddies; they are of wood, their shape a truncated cone, with numerous ornamental hoops of copper. in other respects industry has made no progress among the kalmucks, whose wants are so limited, that none of them has ever felt the need of applying himself to any distinct trade. every man can supply his own wants, and we never found an artisan of any kind among the hordes. at astrakhan, there are some kalmuck journeymen engaged in the fisheries, and many of them are in high repute as boatmen. on the whole, it is not for want of intelligence they are without arts, but because they have no need of them. we frequently questioned the kalmucks respecting their wintering under a tent, and they always assured us that their kabitkas perfectly protected them from the cold. by day they keep up a fire with reeds and dried dung; and at night, when there remains only clear coal, they stop up all the openings to confine the heat. their felts, besides, as i know from experience, are so well made, as to shelter them completely from the most furious tempests. we have little to say of the education of the kalmucks. their princes and priests alone boast of some learning, but it consists only in a knowledge of their religious works. the mass of the people grovel in utter ignorance. nevertheless, a very notable intellectual movement took place among the tribes in the beginning of the seventeenth century, at which period zaia pandity, one of their high priests, invented a new alphabet, and enriched the old mongol language with many turkish elements. thereupon the kalmuck nation had a literature of its own, and soon, under the influence of its numerous traditions, and its historical, sacred, and political books, it exhibited all the germs of a hopeful, nascent civilisation; nor was it rare in those days to find men of decided talent among the aristocracy. but oubacha's emigration blighted all these fair hopes. the books were all carried off by the fugitives; the old traditions, so potent among asiatic nations, gradually became extinct, the natural bond that knitted the various hordes together was broken, and the kalmucks that remained in europe soon relapsed into their old barbarian condition. footnotes: [ ] the emperor subjoins in a note: "the nation of the torgouths arrived at ily in total destitution without victuals or clothing. i had foreseen this, and given orders to chouhédé and others, to lay up the necessary provisions of all kinds, that they might be promptly succoured. this was done. the lands were divided, and to each family was assigned a sufficient portion for its support by tillage or cattle rearing. each individual received cloth for garments, a year's supply of corn, household utensils, and other necessaries, and besides all this several ounces of silver to provide himself with whatever might have been forgotten. particular places, fertile in pasturage, were pointed out to them, and they were given oxen, sheep, &c., that they might afterwards labour for their own sustenance and welfare." chapter xxvi. buddhism--kalmuck cosmogony--kalmuck clergy--rites and ceremonies--polygamy--the khirghis. the kalmucks, like most of the other offshoots of the mongol stock, are buddhists, or rather lamites. according to the opinion of all writers, buddhism began in india, and buddha, afterwards deified by his followers under the name of dchakdchamouni, was its founder and first patriarch. opposed by the fanaticism of the children of brahma, the new creed made little progress, and appears to have been cruelly persecuted in the beginning. the learned researches of m. abel remusat have, however, demonstrated that there was a succession of twenty-eight buddhist patriarchs in india. it was not until about a.d. , that bodhidharma, impelled no doubt by the persecutions of the brahmins, set out for china, where the doctrines of buddha had already made considerable progress, as well as in thibet and great part of tartary. eight centuries, nevertheless, elapsed before the successors of bodhidharma emerged from their obscure and precarious condition: it was to the grand fortunes of the celebrated genghis khan they owed that royal splendour they afterwards enjoyed under the name of dalai lama. according to klaproth, the first traces of buddhism are recorded in a mongol book, entitled "the source of the heart," written in the time of genghis khan. it is there related that the conqueror, when about to enter the countries occupied by the buddhists, sent an embassy to their patriarch with these words: "i have chosen thee for my high priest, and for that of my empire; repair to me; i give thee charge over the present and future weal of my people, and i will be thy protector." the desires of genghis khan were quickly fulfilled; from that time forth the patriarchs often resided at the conqueror's court, and their religion was at last adopted by the greatest mongol warriors. in the reign of genghis khan's grandson, buddhism was already become a power; and then it was that the high priests, assuming the title of dalai lama, fixed their residence in thibet, where they continued to be treated as actual monarchs, until dissensions and rivalries destroyed all the prestige of their authority, and they became confounded with the other vassals of the empire of china. when buddhism installed itself in thibet, that country was already peopled with christians, and the nestorians had many monasteries there. the religious tolerance of the mongol monarchs was unlimited: all creeds enjoyed equal protection in their capital. the christians were especially numerous in the imperial city, where they had a church with bells, and were long presided over by an italian archbishop. the effect of this general toleration, and of the potent action of the principles of christianity, must necessarily have been to modify buddhism to an important degree; and we believe, with m. remusat, that we must refer to this period for the origin and explanation of the many points of analogy between it and the doctrines of christians. pallas and bergmann have written much on the religious cosmogony of the kalmucks; we will follow them in their investigations, and endeavour to complete them by means of our own observations. there was in the beginning an immense abyss, called khoubi saiagar, exceeding in length and depth , , berez (about , , leagues), and out of this abyss the taingairis, or aerial spirits, existing from all eternity, drew forth the world. first rose fiery-coloured clouds, which gathered together until they dissolved into a heavy rain, every drop of which was as big as a chariot wheel, and thus was formed the universal sea. soon afterwards there appeared on the surface of the waters an immense quantity of foam, white as milk, and out of it issued all living creatures, including the human race. we will say nothing of those hurricanes which, arising from the ten parts of the world, produced in the upper hemisphere that fantastic column, as lofty as the ocean is deep, round which revolve the various worlds of the buddhist universe. but we cannot forbear to mention the ingenious explanation by which the astronomers of thibet accounted for the periodical revolutions of the day. according to their sacred books, the mystic column has four faces, of different colours, argent, azure, or, and deep red. at sunrise the rays of the sun fall on the argent side, in the forenoon they are reflected from the azure, at noon from the gold, towards the close of day from the red surface, and the concealment of the orb behind the column is what produces night. all the books of the kalmucks speak of four great lands, which are sometimes spoken of as belonging to the same whole, sometimes as forming separate worlds. the first of these, lying eastward, is occupied by giants who are eight cubits high, and live for years; the second, towards the west, has inhabitants eleven cubits high, whose lifetime is years; the third, placed in the north, is still more favoured, for its inhabitants, though devoid of souls, live for years exempt from all infirmity. their stature is cubits. when the term of their existence is arrived, they assemble their families and their friends around them, and expire calmly at the call of a heavenly voice summoning them by their name. the fourth earth is that on which we dwell, and on which all the favours of the deity are profusely lavished. it has four great rivers bearing the mystic names of ganga, schilda, baktschou, and aipura, which take their rise in the heart of four great mountains, where dwells an elephant two leagues long, white as snow, and named gasar sakitschin koven (protector of the earth). this fabulous animal has thirty-three red heads, each furnished with six trunks, whence spout forth as many fountains, all surmounted with six stars. on each star sits a virgin always young and gracefully attired. these virgins are the daughters of the aerial spirits, one of whom, the most potent of all, sits astride on the middle of the elephant's head, when the animal thinks fit to change his quarters.[ ] in the beginning the inhabitants of this privileged earth lived , years, abounding in health, and incapable of forming a desire that was not instantly fulfilled. their eyes shot forth rays of light that supplied the place of the sun and the stars, and invisible grace stood them instead of all nourishment. it was during this golden age that most of the secondary divinities were born, and bourkhans were taken up from the earth to the abode of the blessed. but those blissful times came to an end, for, as in genesis, an unlucky fruit, for which mankind imprudently conceived a liking, was the cause of their downfal. the human race lost all its precious privileges; its wings failed; physical wants tormented it; its gigantic stature dwindled down, and the span of life was contracted to , years, whilst the luminous rays of the eyes, the only light of that period, disappeared. darkness then covered the face of the earth, until four powerful deities, touched with compassion, squeezed the mountain hard, and forced from it the sun and the moon, those two great luminaries which still exist in our day. the evil did not stop here. to the physical woes that afflicted man was soon added moral depravation; adultery, homicide, and violence supplanted the primitive virtues, and disorder reigned over the whole face of the habitable earth. during this long period of decay the duration of life underwent successive curtailments, and many bourkhans descended on earth to correct and ameliorate mankind. the bourkhan ebdekchi (the perturber) appeared at the time when the duration of life did not exceed , years. altan dohidakti, the bourkhan of incorruptible gold, appeared to the world when men only lived , years, and those whose years were but , were visited by the bourkhan guerel sakitchi (the guardian of the world). after him came massouschiri. lastly, the term of human, existence had been reduced to years, when the celebrated bourkhan dchakdchamouni, the founder of the existing sect, came upon the earth and preached the faith to one-and-thirty nations. a great moral revolution then took place in the world; but unfortunately the new law was variously interpreted, and thence resulted this great diversity of religions and languages. still, however, the degeneration of the human race is far from having reached its utmost limit. the life and stature of man and of all animals, will undergo a further considerable diminution in the course of ages. there will come a time when the horse will be no bigger than the present race of hares, and men but a few palms high, will live but ten years, and will marry at the age of five months. thus the buddhists have adopted notions diametrically opposed to those of certain modern philosophers, who think that we began as oysters and will end with being gods. which is the more absurd of these two opinions? we shall not attempt to decide the question, but leave it to our neighbours beyond the rhine, who are more competent than we to deal with such matters. the extreme limit of physical decay having been once attained, most living creatures will be destroyed by a mortal malady. but just when the world seems on the point of relapsing into the chaos from whence it issued, the voice of the celestial spirits will be heard, and some of the miserable dwarfs still peopling the earth will seek refuge in dark caverns; it will then rain swords, spears, and all sorts of deadly weapons; the ground will be strewed with corpses and red with blood. finally, a horrible down-pour of rain will sweep all the corpses and all the filth into the ocean. this will be the last act of the genius of destruction, soon after which a fragrant rain will vivify the earth. all sorts of garments and food will drop from the sky; the dwarfs that have escaped destruction will come forth from their caverns, and men, regenerated and virtuous, will at once recover their gigantic stature and their privilege of living , years. there will then be a new decay, and when the bourkhan maidari appears on earth, men will have again become dwarfs; but at the voice of that prophet they will be fully converted, and will attain a high degree of perfection. we will not follow lamism through its systems regarding the various epochs of the world. the notions of the kalmucks on this head are so confused, that i have been unable to learn any thing in addition to what is stated by the learned pallas. their sacred books speak of forty-nine epochs, ending by fire, or deluges, or hurricanes. they are all divided into four great periods. the first comprises the space of time in which human life begins with being , years long, and diminishes to , ; during the second period man perishes; during the third the earth remains desolate, and in the fourth occurs a hurricane which carries the souls from hell to the earth. we have already mentioned that happy epoch in which thousands of holy beings were raised to the heavens, and deified under the name of bourkhans. these bourkhans do not all hold the same rank, but differ from each other both in power and functions. the kalmucks, who hold them in great veneration, adore them as the most beneficent deities. their images are found in all the temples. the mighty dchakdchamouni is most especially worshipped. the bourkhans are supposed to inhabit different worlds; some dwell in the planets, others in the regions of the air, others again in the sky; dchakdchamouni still inhabits the earth. there is an infinite multitude of legends concerning these secondary divinities, especially the last named. the following adventure is related of him in all the religious books of the lamites, and is known to all the kalmucks: one day three bourkhans were praying with great fervour, and while their eyes were piously cast down, an infernal genius deposited his excrement in the sacred cup belonging to one of them. great was the stupefaction of the bourkhans when they lifted up their heads. they consulted further what they should do. if they diffused the pestiferous matter through the air, it would be the destruction of all the beings that people that element; if they let it fall on the earth, all its inhabitants would, in like manner, perish. they resolved, therefore, for the good of mankind, to swallow the dreadful substance. dchakdchamouni had the bottom of the cup for his share, and the legend states that so horrible was the taste, the poor bourkhan's face suddenly became blue all over. that god has ever since been depicted with a blue visage. the aerial spirits are next in importance to the bourkhans; some of them are beneficent, others malignant. the kalmucks worship these rather than the others, because they alone can do harm to mortals, whilst nothing but good offices are to be expected from the beneficent spirits. these genii are not immortal, and their power is much less than that of the bourkhans. the manner in which their race is propagated is very simple, but singular: an embrace, an exchange of smiles, or of gracious looks is sufficient with them to produce conception. all these spirits have divers abodes in the world and in the air; to the malevolent among them, the kalmucks attribute all the disorders of the atmosphere, and all pestilential diseases; the evil genii are particularly active in stormy weather, wherefore the kalmucks greatly dread thunder, and always fire many shots when a storm blows, in order to scare away the demons. there are also in the lamite religion a great many fabulous deities represented by monstrous idols, which appear to be old reminiscences of a primitive creed anterior to buddhism. it is remarkable that these idols have generally female faces. they are almost always decorated with the scarf of honour, or the bell and sceptre, used by the priests in their religious ceremonies, are placed in their hands. the priests are the makers of all these idols, some of which are of curious workmanship. the materials are baked earth, bronze, silver, or even gold. though the kalmucks address their worship almost exclusively to the host of secondary deities we have just mentioned, still they acknowledge a supreme being, to whom the bourkhans and the good and evil genii are but vassals: if they have no image or idol representing him, it is because the conception of the one eternal creator passes all the bounds of their imagination, and they rather apply their thoughts to beings less incomprehensible and less remote from their own nature. pallas seems to think that the kalmucks follow the system of epicurus, but the conversations i have had with many learned princes and priests, have convinced me of the contrary. the kalmucks and the mongols believe, like the hindus, in the transmigration of souls; but bergmann errs greatly in asserting that they have no other idea of immortality. i have investigated the popular notions on this subject, and my conviction is that the kalmucks consider the transmigration only as a longer or shorter trial which the soul of every man, not acknowledged a saint, must pass through before appearing in presence of the supreme judge. as for those who have been celebrated for their piety and their virtues, lamism teaches that they are raised to the rank of bourkhans, still preserving their former individuality. erlik khan is the great judge of the kalmuck hell, and before his awful throne all souls must appear, to be rewarded according to their works. if they are found just and pure, they are placed on a golden seat supported on a cloud, and so wafted to the abode of the bourkhans; if their sins and their good works seem to balance each other, then erlik khan opens his great book in which all the good and evil deeds of men are minutely recorded, and having cast the dread balance, he finally pronounces sentence. on the whole this king of hell seems a good-natured devil enough, for very often to avoid condemning an unfortunate sinner who has some good qualities to recommend him, he allows him to go back to earth and live over again in his own form. the kalmucks, always logical in their mythological notions, allege that they derive from men thus resuscitated all the knowledge they possess of hell and the future life. the imagination of the lamite priests has outstripped that of the christians, and of all other nations; indeed we know nothing that can be compared with the kalmuck hell. erlik khan, the judge of the dead, is likewise sovereign of the realm of the damned. his palace, which always resounds with the clashing of immense gongs, is situated in a great town surrounded with white walls, within which spreads a vast sea of urine and excrement, in which wallow the accursed. an iron causeway traverses this sea, and when the guilty attempt to pass along it, it narrows beneath them to a hair's breadth, then snaps asunder, and the wicked souls, thus tested and convicted, are straightway plunged into hell. not far from this place of horror is a sea of blood, on which float many human heads; this is the place of torture for such as have excited quarrels and occasioned murders among relations and friends. further on is seen the punishment of tantalus, where a multitude of damned souls suffer hunger and thirst on a white and arid soil. they dig and turn up the earth without ceasing; but their unavailing labour only serves to wear down their arms to the shoulders, after which the stumps grow again, and their torments begin afresh. such is the punishment of those who have neglected to provide for the wants and the jovial habits of the clergy. it would be tedious to pursue these details further; suffice it to say, that in describing the various torments of hell, the lamites have employed every device which the wildest imagination could conceive. we must, however, give these priests credit for one thing: they do not admit the eternity of punishment;[ ] but on the other hand, in the distribution of chastisement they have not forgotten the smallest offence that can possibly be committed against themselves. hence they have immense power over the people, whom they can induce to believe what they will. their cupidity is equal to their influence, and they never forego any opportunity of making their profit of the poor kalmuck. from all these particulars of the religious notions of the kalmucks, it is plain that the popular mythology of lamism is like many other superstitions, only a potent instrument invented by priests to fascinate and command the multitude. by means of these incredible fables, the lamite clergy have made themselves masters of the field, and hold great and small under their sway. it is to be remarked that in all religions ecclesiastical supremacy is inseparable from the creation of a hell, and that the one never exists without the other; in fact among nations where the idea of eternal punishments has been abandoned, the ministers of religion have seldom exercised an oppressive power over the people. this proves how large a part selfishness and the lust of sway have had in the construction of many religions; but in none has the priesthood evermore possessed a greater power than in buddhism; in none has it more violently opposed all who have sought to shake its sway by proclaiming the infinite mercy of god. as a natural consequence of the great prerogatives attached to the priesthood, the clergy are become extremely numerous among the followers of lama. prince tumene, whose oulousse is very inconsiderable, has at least three hundred priests attached to his pagoda. during our stay in astrakhan, we had opportunities of confirming, by our own observation, the truth of what pallas remarks, that there is much analogy between the religious ceremonies of the brahmins and those of the kalmucks. indeed, in studying the theological system of the lamites, it becomes clear that their doctrines have been partly borrowed from religions still in existence. who can fail to recognise the biblical allegory in the fruit _shimé_, which the first men were imprudent enough to taste? again, that period during which man was only unhappy, but not criminal, does it not represent the time that elapsed from adam's expulsion from paradise to the murder of abel? the traditions of the greek mythology appear also to have been made use of, for the dread erlik khan seems very like the pluto of the ancients; and perhaps the loathsome sea that encompasses his palace is but another form of the styx. it is unnecessary to remark that all these religious notions are familiar only to the priests and some princes; the common people are content to believe, worship, and submit blindly to the exactions of their spiritual guides. people begin, however, to observe a certain falling off in the observance of the precepts of lamism. thus, although a true follower of lama has a right to destroy only the carnivorous creatures that hurt his flocks, the kalmucks, nevertheless, put to death domestic animals, and make no scruple of hunting. they urge, it is true, in defence of these acts, that the prohibition against killing was not made by the gods themselves, but by one of their high priests who lived several centuries ago. nevertheless, there are many priests who would think themselves guilty of murder if they put to death the smallest insect; and very often it occurred when we were sporting, that several of them came and earnestly entreated us to liberate the bird we had just caught. in so doing they thought they performed an act of charity, and saved a soul. the modern kalmuck clergy are divided into four classes. the backshaus are the chief priests and religious teachers: in the caspian steppes the eldest of them is improperly styled the lama. the ghelungs are the ordinary priests, and may be compared in rank and functions to the french country _curés_. the ghetzuls, or deacons, constitute the third class; and the fourth consists of the mandshis, or musicians. above all these grades stands the dalai lama of thibet, the supreme head of the church. the russian kalmucks were formerly in constant communication with him, but since oubacha's emigration, the government has put a stop to this intercourse, which could not fail to thwart its views by keeping up a spirit of nationality among the kalmucks, and fostering their attachment to their religion. both the clergy and those in their service enjoy all possible immunities. they are exempt from all taxes and charges, and the people are bound to see that they want for nothing. it is true that the priests are prohibited by the rules of their religion from possessing property, but the restriction is evaded to a great extent, and the backshaus and ghelungs all possess numerous herds: if any one wants to buy a good horse, he must apply to them. the sloth and insolence of these priests passes all comparison; excepting their religious ceremonies, in which they chant some prayers and play on their instruments, they do absolutely nothing but eat, drink, and sleep. the meanest ghelung has always a retinue of some half dozen of deacons, who look after his cattle, his table, and his wardrobe. the ghetzuls are like our deacons, aspirants for the priesthood, and from their body the chief backshaus select the ghelungs, always having regard to the wealth of the candidates rather than to their good character or capacity. the ordination generally takes place towards the close of the great religious festivals, at which period the new ghelungs pass the whole night in marching round the priest's camp, chaplet in hand, barefooted, and with their shaven crowns uncovered. this is the last exercise preliminary to the commencement of their ministry. all the members of the clergy of every rank take vows of chastity, which they are far from observing; for there are few priests who do not indulge in illicit intercourse with married women. the poor husband does what he can to prevent this, but when he discovers the actual existence of the evil, instead of resenting it, he appears to accept his mischance as an honour, such is his veneration for his spiritual superiors. the priest, however, is forced to use stratagem for the indulgence of his passion. the reverend personage usually goes by night and pushes against the kibitka of the woman on whom his choice has fallen; whereupon she pretends to believe that some animal is prowling about, gets up, takes a stick, and goes out to drive it away. the priest then absconds with her, and the husband suspects nothing. the princes share these privileges with the priests, only they carry matters with a higher hand. when a woman strikes their fancy, they take possession of her without ceremony, and send her back when they are tired of her company. as for the husband, his resignation under such circumstances is almost always exemplary. he knows, too, that he may count thenceforth on the patronage of the amorous prince, and commit sundry peccadilloes on the strength of it with impunity. the marital policy is the same with regard to the priests. pallas, therefore, is wrong to express surprise at the fact that the kalmuck hell provides no punishment for the sin of wantonness. this omission does honour to the sly sagacity of the lamite priests, and proves how much they distrust their own virtue. as marriage is forbidden them, they are the more liable to sin in this way, and therefore it was not reasonable that in a religious system of their own making, they should inflict punishment on their own souls. we have already described the ceremonial garb of the priests, their ordinary costume consists of a wide tunic with sleeves, and a flat broad-brimmed hat of cloth. yellow and red are their favourite colours. the priests always pitch their tents at a certain distance from the oulousse to which they are attached, and usually range them in a circle round a large open space, in the centre of which stand the kibitkas that serve them for temples. such a camp is called a khouroul, and every evening the kalmucks assemble there in great numbers to perform their religious duties. the temples are generally adorned with rich silk hangings, and with a great number of images. opposite the door stands the altar with a little bronze image of dchakdchamouni upon it, and a profusion of votive cups filled with grain and beans, as customary among the brahmins; and one vessel of holy water in which several peacock's feathers are dipped. holy water plays an important part in the religious ceremonies of lamism; the ghetzuls distribute it in the great festivals to the people, who swallow some of it and wash their faces with the rest. it appears to be an infusion of saffron and sugar, but the kalmucks attribute to it very marvellous properties. a lamp burns day and night before the idol, which is generally clad in brilliant silks, the head and hands alone remaining uncovered. a silk curtain hangs before the other images, and is only raised at the time of prayer. the priests practise in a most scandalous manner on the credulity of the people. the first thing a kalmuck does when he falls ill, is to have recourse to the prayers and invocations of his priest. if he is poor he is usually let off for a pelisse or a cloak, which the ghelung carries off on the pretext that it is the abode of some evil genius who has caused all the patient's suffering. but when the sick man is a prince, the proceedings are in accordance with his fortune. in that case it is not in a pelisse or a cloak the demon abides; he is lodged in the very body of the prince, and the business is how to provide him with another dwelling. the backshau must be paid handsomely for finding a man who will take the disaster upon himself. this is usually some poor devil who is brought by fair means or by force into the sick man's tent, where after a multitude of odd ceremonies, he receives the name of the prince, and so the evil spirit passes into his body. he is then driven out of the oulousse with his whole family, and forbidden ever to set foot within it again. persons so treated are called _andin_ (fugitives). they may join another oulousse, but are always obliged to set up their tents at a distance from the general camp. the kalmucks have three great annual festivals, which they always take care shall last at least a fortnight each. the chief of the three called, _zackan zara_, is in celebration of the return of spring; the second (_urus zara_), which falls about june, consists in the benediction of the waters; and the third (_souloun zara_, or the feast of the lamp) takes place in december. an altar is then erected in the open air, and on it are set a great number of sacred lamps and candles, which are lighted by the priests at the moment the new moon is visible, in presence of the whole assembled clergy and laity. i borrow from bergmann a description of the feast of zackan zara at which he was present. "about noon," he says, "the sound of instruments gave token that the ceremony was about to begin, and i hastened to the khouroul, where the priests arranged in classes, and drawn up in line, were ready to begin the procession. the persons who only carried the instruments formed of themselves a considerable group. on the flanks of all those battalions of ghelungs, ghetzuls, and mandshis, floated sundry kinds of flags, some formed of strips of silk of many colours sewn in a ring, resembled the roman ensigns; others like our banners were fixed to cross rods supported on long poles. we had not long to wait ere the chief priests, carrying with them large chests, came forth from a kibitka, and put themselves at the head of the multitude. they were closely followed by many others dressed in their richest attire, who eagerly pressed forward to assist in carrying the chests, or even to touch them with the tips of their fingers. as for the instruments, the timbrels were fixed on pieces of wood, and the great trumpets were supported by rods carried by some of the common people. the multitude that closed the procession were scarcely more numerous than the priests, and the old women alone testified their piety by sighs drawn from the bottom of their hearts. at some hundred paces from the khouroul, a scaffolding had been erected in the form of an altar thirteen or fourteen feet high, braced with ropes before and behind. in front of the altar was a circular space covered with carpets, and intended for the priests, with an immense red silk parasol to shade the high priest who filled the functions of lama. the procession having reached the altar, the sacred chests were laid at its foot, and the images it contained were unmuffled. everything was now ready to begin the ceremony when the lama should arrive. "i availed myself of this pause to examine the sanctuary. on a yellow cloth richly embroidered with sacred flowers of a red colour, i saw several votive cups, and the gilded images of some deities. right and left of the altar stood the banners, and in front of it, but outside the carpeted circle, were the instruments. suddenly the music struck up, and the lama arrived, borne in triumph in a palanquin, from which he alighted at a little distance from the altar. a signal was then given; the curtain that hung before the images was raised, and the priests, the princes, and the whole people prostrated themselves three times. "after this ceremony, the vice-khan tchoutchei, who was present with his two sons, marched thrice with his whole suit round the circular space where the priests were squatted, and at last took his place beside the grand lama under the great parasol. his example was followed by his wife, only she took up her position outside the clerical circle, under a reserved pavilion where tea was presented to her. large wooden vessels filled with tea, and cakes, were then set before the priests, and a great number of sheep intended for dinner were slaughtered. the repast, often interrupted by prayers and other ceremonies, was protracted until sunset. the images were then rolled up again, and the chests carried back in procession to the tents whence they had been taken. the same ceremonies were repeated on the two following days, but other bourkhans were exhibited to the worshippers." this feast of zackan was instituted in honour of a victory achieved by djackdjamouni over six false doctors with whom he contended for more than a week. besides their great festivals, the kalmucks have also three days in every month (the th, th, and th) on which they kill no sort of animal, but every faithful follower of lama must live only on milk diet. the priests spend those days in the temple, praying from morning till night, and the people generally attend. the kalmucks practise family devotions, consisting of prayers chanted with some degree of harmony, in an alternation of acute and grave sounds and slow and quick measures. they pray with a rosary somewhat like those used in catholic countries, but oftener they perform that business by a mechanical process that does great honour to the inventive wit of the lamites. to invoke heaven in this way they have a drum or cylinder covered with tangout characters, and containing several sacred writings in its interior, and the whole operation consists in making the cylinder revolve more or less rapidly by means of a cord. this very simple method of praying leaves the mind quite free, and does not hinder the kalmucks from chatting, smoking, quarrelling, and abusing each other; provided the cylinder turns, the prayer is worked off of its own accord, and the bourkhans are quite satisfied. the followers of lama believe this manual occupation to be highly meritorious, and imagine that the noise made by the sacred writings, when the cylinder revolves, rises to the throne of the deity and brings down his blessing. the princes have a still easier method of worshipping. whenever they do not find it convenient to repeat their prayers orally, they plant before their tent a long pole to which is attached a flag inscribed with sacred verses; and thus they leave it to the winds to carry their homage to the throne of the bourkhans. lucky or unlucky days are carefully observed by the kalmucks. if one of the common people dies on a lucky day, he is buried, almost in the same way as among ourselves, and a small banner with a sort of epitaph is planted on his grave. on the contrary, if he dies on an unlucky day his body is laid on the ground, covered only with a felt or a mat, and the performance of his obsequies is left to carrion beasts and birds. in this case the relations or friends of the deceased watch to see by what kind of creature the corpse is first attacked, and from that fact they draw inferences as to how the soul fares in the other world. the rule is different with regard to princes, whose bodies are never exposed above ground. if they die on an unlucky day they are buried; otherwise they are burned with great pomp, and on the spot where they have expired a small chapel is erected, in which their ashes are deposited. the priests are still better off than the princes: die when they will they are always granted the honours of burning, provided they have had some reputation for sanctity in their lifetime; and their ashes are moulded into a little statue which is carried with great pomp to one of those small temples, called satzas, of which i have already spoken. the kalmucks who greatly venerate the tombs of their priests, try as much as possible to keep the lamp in each of them perpetually burning. if it goes out, the first person who passes that way is bound to relight it. the habits of private life among the kalmucks are of course in accordance with their state of civilisation and religious belief, and are strongly marked by all their gross superstitions. yet certain of their customs are serious and affecting, and cannot fail to make an impression on the traveller. others are curious for their patriarchal simplicity. when a woman is in labour, one or more priests are sent for, and whilst the husband runs round the tent with a big stick to drive away the evil spirits, the ghelungs stand at the door reciting prayers, and invoking the favour of the deity on the child about to be born. when the babe is come into the world, one of the relations goes out of the tent, and gives it the name of the first object he sees. this is the practice among all classes. i have known a prince _little dog_, and other individuals bearing the most whimsical names. the women remain veiled for many days after their delivery, and a certain time must elapse before they can be present at the religious ceremonies. the customs observed in marriages are more interesting, particularly when the young couple belong to the aristocracy. the preliminaries consist in stipulating the amount in horses, camels, and money, which the bridegroom is to pay to the bride's father; this being settled the young man sets out on horseback, accompanied by the chief nobles of his oulousse, to carry off his bride. a sham resistance is always made by the people of her camp, in spite of which she fails not to be borne away on a richly caparisoned horse, with loud shouts and _feux de joie_. when the party arrive at the spot where the kibitka of the new couple is to stand, and where the trivet supporting their great pot is already placed, the bride and bridegroom dismount, kneel down on carpets, and receive the benediction of their priests; then they rise, and, turning towards the sun, address their invocations aloud to the four elements. at this moment the horse on which the bride has been brought home is stripped of saddle and bridle, and turned loose for any one to catch and keep who can. the intention of this practice, which is observed only among the rich, is to signify to the bride that she is thenceforth to live only with her husband, and not think of returning to her parents. the setting up of the kibitka concludes the whole ceremony. the bride remains veiled until the tent is ready, and her husband taking off her veil, hands her into her new home. there is one curious incident in the marriages of the wealthy which deserves mention. the bride chooses a bridesmaid who accompanies her in her abduction; and when they come to the place for the kibitka, the bride throws her handkerchief among the men; whoever catches it must marry the bridesmaid. for a year after marriage the wife must confine herself to the tent, and during all that time can only receive visits on its threshold, even on the part of her parents. but when the year is out she is free to do just as she likes. all marriages are not contracted in this peaceable manner among the kalmucks. when the relations cannot agree on the terms, which is no unusual case, the question is very often settled by force. if the young man is really enamoured he calls together his comrades and by force or cunning carries off the girl, who, after she has once entered his tent, cannot under any pretext be reclaimed by her parents. lamism seems in the beginning to have forbidden polygamy and divorce, but these prohibitions have long become obsolete, and both practices are now legalised among all the kalmucks. in case of infidelity on the wife's part, the repudiation takes place publicly, if the husband requires it. the most broken down horse that can be found is brought out, its tail is cut off, the guilty woman is mounted on its bare back, and hooted out of the oulousse. but these scenes occur very rarely; for the offended husband usually contents himself with sending his wife away privately, after giving her a few head of cattle for her support. the kalmucks of the caspian indulge very seldom in polygamy; indeed i never heard of more than one individual who had two wives. the condition of women among them is very different from what prevails in turkey and great part of asia; the restrictions of the harem are unknown, and both wives and maids enjoy the greatest independence, and may freely expose their faces to view on all occasions. i have spoken of the efforts made by the moravian brethren of sarepta to convert the kalmucks, and of the intolerant manner in which the russian clergy put a stop to them. though we are by no means partisans of spiritual missions, and are of opinion that the apostles of our day often do more harm than good, still we cannot but regret the decision adopted by the synod. by their position, their industry, the simplicity of their religious notions, and their knowledge of the country, the moravians are most favourably circumstanced for effecting the civilisation and social improvement of the kalmucks; and there are some men among them who really understand their task. buddhism, as practised among the kalmucks tends to cramp all intellectual growth. consisting exclusively in gross and burlesque superstitions, though liberality and equality were its fundamental principles, that religion can now only serve to brutalise the people, and retain them under the yoke of a grasping and fraudulent clergy. in this point of view a conversion to more rational doctrines would evidently be for the welfare of the kalmucks; but the change should not be accomplished under the influence of so ignorant and superstitious a clergy as that of the russian church; for it would be better to leave the kalmucks to their old creed, and trust to time for their emancipation from the control of their priests. after all, the civilisation of these tribes is a difficult problem. looking to the arid land in which they dwell, we must confess that it would be fatal to them were they subjected to our rules of life. i resided a considerable time among them, and inured myself in a great degree to their habits; and when on returning to our civilised towns, i was again a witness of the struggles, passions, vices, and evils that torment most of the nations of europe, i could not but wish from my heart that the kalmucks may long retain their native habits, and very long remain safe from that ambitious civilisation that gnaws the souls of the various classes of our populations. * * * * * oubacha's emigration left the plains of the ural unoccupied for many years, and it was not until the beginning of this century that some khirghis tribes of the little horde entered on possession of them with the consent of the russian government. few at first, their numbers rapidly increased by new emigrations, and at last russia conferred upon the khirghis colony the entire and authenticated possession of about , , hectares of land. more fortunate than the kalmucks, this people still enjoys a certain degree of independence, in appearance at least if not in reality. they have their sovereign khan, pay no tax, and the only obligation imposed on them is to furnish a corps of cavalry in time of war. it is hard to know exactly the number of these khirghis. the russian government is always solicitous to persuade the world of the prosperity of its subject peoples, and to this end it publishes very fallacious documents. thus in a supplement to the journal of the ministry of the interior, august , , the population of the horde is set down at , tents, whereas the real number is but , as appears from an extract taken in my presence at astrakhan from the official documents of the military governor. but as the editor of the st. petersburg journal judiciously remarks, the tribe cannot but have augmented rapidly under the wise administration of russia, and it is from his admiration for his government he deduces the best proof in support of his statistical statements. such arguments have not much weight with us, and we even suspect that the number is an exaggeration, and that the khirghis have remained faithful to russia only because they cannot do otherwise, since the government has taken the precaution of imprisoning them between two lines of cossacks, those of the ural and the volga. besides, if i may judge from the facts communicated to me at astrakhan, the immigration of the khirghis was not so free as the government is pleased to proclaim it to have been. both force and fraud were employed to make them settle in regions from which russia derived no profit since the flight of the kalmucks. the khirghis are nomades, living in felt tents, and employed in cattle rearing, like the kalmucks. but they profess the mahometan religion, belong evidently to the turkish race, and have been from all time implacable foes to the mongol hordes. latterly, however, they appear to have lived in harmony with the kalmucks of the volga. their khan often visits prince tumene, and in more than khirghis encamped on the banks of the volga, and took part in the grand entertainments given by the kalmuck chief to the government authorities. but this state of peace is only the result of imperious necessity; if the hordes were independent, their old animosities would soon break out again. the present khan of the khirghis is giangour boukevitch, who is reputed to be an able man, and desirous of introducing european civilisation among his people. the emperor nicholas had a handsome wooden house erected for him at the foot of the sand-hills called ryn peski, but he seldom resides in it. a few paltry buildings have been subsequently erected, through the strenuous intervention of the russian _employés_, but it would be extravagant to behold in a score of cabins the elements of a future capital, as a certain st. petersburg journal is pleased to do. the khirghis will not so readily forsake their nomade ways. their territory is hardly better than that of the kalmucks; and their khan himself, obliged to camp out during the greater part of the year, in order to find fodder for his cattle, only returns to his pretended capital when the inclemency of winter drives him from his felt kibitka. it is necessary to exercise extreme caution and rigid criticism respecting all things pertaining to russia, if we would arrive at the truth; for otherwise we shall be every moment in danger of mistaking for an indication of improvement and increased prosperity what is but the result of arbitrary power. we have repeatedly noticed instances of such mistakes on the part of travellers who have recently visited the southern portions of the empire. never was any power more prodigal of outward decorations than the muscovite; russia is of all countries that which most lavishly expends its money to please the eye. to potemkin belongs the honour of having been the first to play off these mystifications, when he got up extemporaneous villages and herds of cattle all along the road travelled by catherine ii. in her journey to the crimea. he has had no lack of successors ever since. alleys of acacias spring up by enchantment in the new towns; churches and houses with columns and porticoes; magnificent double eagles bearing the crown and the sceptre; numerous bureaucratic sign-boards with gilded inscriptions, &c., are seen on all hands. this mania of wishing to appear what one is not, which has always characterised the russians, seems to us one of their greatest obstacles to all real improvement, and to be one of the most dangerous maladies of the empire. certainly it is a defect not easy to be avoided by a backward people who aspire to put themselves on a level with their more advanced neighbours; but in russia, unhappily, artificial ostentation has been systematised; not only does it exist among individuals, but it forms the basis of all the acts of the government; from one end of the empire to the other, in the towns and in the steppes of the caspian, its costly stage scenery is everywhere to be found; it has become the aim and the fixed idea of every man, from the ministers of state down to the lowest _employé_; and whilst millions are uselessly expended to adorn the drapery of the theatre, the framework of the social edifice is allowed to go to ruin. the future welfare and the real progress of the country are deemed of little moment, provided the vanity of the day be satisfied, and the comedy be well played before his majesty and the strangers whom curiosity induces to visit russia. after the khirghis, we have also on the left bank of the volga, near its mouths, a small tatar horde, called koundrof, an offshoot of the great tribe of the kouban. these tatars, who number about tents, were formerly bestowed by russia as vassals upon the khans of the kalmucks, but they were adroit enough to escape from taking part in oubacha's famous emigration. unavailing attempts have been subsequently made to colonise them. the governor of astrakhan made them build two villages thirty years ago; but they soon abandoned those fixed dwellings, and resumed their old roving habits. lastly, there are the black nogais, who occupy the banks of the terek, to the number of tents. we shall speak of them in detail in the next chapter. _table of the nomade population of the governments of astrakhan and the caucasus._ families. kalmucks , khirghis , koundrof tatars , sertof tatars black nogaïs , turcomans , ------ total , footnotes: [ ] after the curious researches of m. ferdinand denis, respecting the cosmography and the fantastic histories of the middle ages, we can no longer wonder at the singular conceptions of the kalmucks. the world of cosmas has likewise its four great sacred rivers, and he, too, like the followers of the dalai lama, makes the sun and the stars revolve round a mystic column. we might point out many other analogies between the mongol myths and those of the medieval writers; but we will rather refer the reader to the enchanted world of m. denis, to those elegant and poetic pages in which the learned librarian of sainte géneviève has so ably demonstrated the historical importance of all those fabulous legends, which at first appear to be only the idle ravings of an extravagant imagination. [ ] the priests, however, have endeavoured to persuade the people that there are five sins which inevitably draw down everlasting punishment: these are irreverence towards the gods, thefts committed in the temples, disrespect to parents, murder, and, of course, offences against the clergy. these ideas are for all that in contradiction to the sacred books; but it is not surprising that the ministers of the grand lama have sought to give them vogue amongst the multitude. chapter xxvii. the tatars and mongols--the kaptshak--history and traditions of the nogais. perhaps no people has given occasion to more discussions than the tatars and mongols, nor is the problem of their origin completely solved in our day, notwithstanding the most learned investigations. some admit that the tatars and mongols formed but one nation, others allege that they are two essentially different races. according to lesvèque d'herbelot and lesur[ ] the tatars are but turks. klaproth,[ ] while he asserts that the tatars and mongols spring from the same stock, nevertheless regards the white tatars, whom genghis khan conquered, as turks. lastly, d'ohson in his remarkable history of the mongols, treats the mongols and tatars as distinct races, but does not admit the theory of the turkish origin. the same uncertainty that hangs over the mongol and tatar hordes of the fourteenth century, prevails with regard to the people who, under the name of tatars, now dwell in the southern part of the russian empire; and they have been considered sometimes as descendants of the turkish tribes that occupied those regions previously to the twelfth century, sometimes as remnants of the conquering mongol tatars. let us try to unravel this tangled web of opinions, and see what may be the least problematical origin of these various nations. the chinese writers for the first time make mention of the tatar people in the eighth century of our era, under the name of tata, and consider them as a branch of the mongols. the general and historian, meng koung,[ ] who died in , and who commanded a chinese force sent to aid the mongols against the kin, informs us in his memoirs that a part of the tatar horde, formerly dispersed or subdued by the khitans,[ ] quitted the in chan mountains,[ ] where they had taken refuge, and joined their countrymen, who dwelt north-east of the khitans. the white tatars and the savage or black tatars then formed the most important tribes of those regions. according to d'ohson, the chinese comprehended under the name of tatars all the nomade hordes that occupied the regions north of the desert of sha no, either because the tatars were the nearest, or because they were the most powerful of all those tribes. the intercourse of the chinese with the west of asia, would have afterwards served to give currency to the general denomination by which they designated their nomade vassals; and thus from the commencement of the power of the genghis khan, those tribes would have been already known by the name of tatars,[ ] which was propagated from nation to nation until it reached europe, although it was repudiated with contempt by the conquerors themselves, as that of a nation they had exterminated. it is a fact established by the statements of many writers, and by d'ohson himself, that genghis khan annihilated the white tatars, and thus it has come to pass by a most curious freak of accident, that this extinguished people became celebrated all over the east by the conquests of its very destroyers. jean du plan de carpin expresses himself still more positively: "the country of the tatars," he says, "bears the name of mongal,[ ] and is inhabited by four different peoples, the jeka mongals, that is to say, the great mongals; the sou mongals, or the fluviatile mongals, who call themselves tatars from the name of the river that flows through their territory; the merkit and the mecrit. all these peoples have the same personal characteristics and the same language, though belonging to different provinces, and ruled by divers princes."[ ] he then goes on to speak of the birth of genghis khan among the jeka mongals, and of his conflicts with the sou mongals and the other _tatar_ tribes. on comparing this author with the chinese writers mentioned and commented on in the works of de guignes, abel rémusat and d'ohson, it will appear beyond all question that the jeka mongals are none other than the black tatars, and that the sou mongals are the representatives of the white tatars. as for the merkit and the mecrit, we confess, with m. d'avezac, that our knowledge of them amounts only to conjecture; but, whatever was their origin, they are of but little importance with regard to the question we are now discussing. the old mohammedan authors, such as massoudi and ebn haoucal, who treat of the nations of asia, appear not to have known the tatars, for they never speak of them. their name figures, however, in a persian abridgment of universal history, entitled "modjmel ut tevarikh el coussas;" and reschyd el dyn calls the tatars a people famous throughout the world; but it would be difficult to extract from these authorities any precise argument for the solution of our problem. after all, as previously to the days of genghis khan, the most important tribe of mongols bore the name of tatars, it is not surprising that the mussulman writers included the whole of that people under this denomination. the chinese, on the contrary, being in close intercourse with the tatars, their vassals, must of course have known their generic name, and transmitted it to us. now let us recapitulate. if we reflect that genghis khan, though born in the tribe especially designated as black tatars, yet adopted the denomination of mongols for his people; that historians have been unanimous in calling genghis khan's soldiers mongols; that the chinese chroniclers, de guignes, and many others, have considered the tatars as only a branch of the mongols; that du plan de carpin himself begins his history with these words: "_incipit historia mongalorum quos nos tartaros appellamus_," it will not be easy to deny, that previously to the twelfth century, previously to the great asiatic invasions, the tatars and mongols were parts of one nation, belonging to one race. if subsequently the hordes of genghis renounced their special name, this circumstance must be ascribed to the sanguinary contest which jessoukai and his son, genghis khan, had to sustain against their oppressors, the white tatars, then the principal tribe in those regions. but the term tatar still prevailed in europe, though it continued to be regarded as synonymous with mongol by all the chinese writers, and by most of those of other nations. the religious and political constitution of the various mongol or tatar branches before genghis khan, is very imperfectly known to us, and affords us no manner of ground for presuming a positive separation into two races. according to the mongol work, "the source of the heart," written in the beginning of the thirteenth century it appears that lamism was first adopted by genghis khan, and that it became under his successors the prevailing religion of the mongols proper. marco polo's narrative seems nevertheless to prove, that at the end of the thirteenth century the mongols had not yet entirely adopted the creed and rites of lamism; we now find it professed by all the kalmucks of russia. in later times, after the invasions by genghis khan and his sons, the europeans, through ignorance or heedlessness, gave the name of tatars not only to the tribes who had figured in those asiatic irruptions, but also to the mahometans, who had once been masters of the regions adjacent to the caspian and the black sea, and had been subjugated by those conquerors; hence have arisen in a great measure all the mistakes and discussions respecting the origin of the tatars. after the mongol torrent had subsided, europeans persisted in giving the appellation of tatars to all those mussulman nations originally of turkish origin, that to this day occupy the territory of kasan and astrakhan, the crimea and the region called turcomania, situated between the belur mountains, lake aral, and the caspian sea; and as all these nations exhibited a religious, political, and moral character peculiar to themselves, people were naturally led to distinguish them from the mongols, and to attribute to them a special origin. thus pallas and many other travellers, after visiting the mahometans of southern russia, and comparing them with the kalmucks, have made of the tatars and mongols two distinct races; and malte brun, in his geography, has given the name of tatar to all the tribes established in our day in turkistan, applying that of mongol exclusively to the nations inhabiting the central tableland of asia, from lake palcati and the belur mountains to the great wall of china, and to the siolky mountains which separate them from the manchous, a tribe of the great race of the tongouses. all these writers have failed to observe, that the appellation tatar lost all signification in asia under the destroying power of genghis khan, and has ever since existed only in the european vocabulary. doubtless, genghis khan and his successors did not achieve all their conquests by the arms of the mongols alone; and after having subjugated all the mahometan nations occupying the vast regions of turcomania and a part of western asia, they of course incorporated them with their hordes, and employed them in their european invasions. what, then, are we to suppose is the origin of all those tribes who, under the name of tatars, now inhabit the south of russia? we agree entirely with the opinion put forth in courtin's "encyclopédie moderne," that these tatars are nothing but turks, comans, or petshenegues, who having been at the commencement of the thirteenth century masters of all the countries north and west of the caspian sea as far the dniepr, were afterwards subdued by the sons of genghis khan, and contributed towards the foundation of a new empire comprised between the dniepr and the emba, to which was given the name of kaptshak, or kiptshak, a designation which appears to have been originally that of the territory. the princes of this empire were mongols or tatars, but the majority of their subjects were turks. it appears even that the latter formed a large portion of the armies of genghis khan in his late expeditions. the turkish language thus remained predominant throughout the kaptshak, little and great bokhara, and among the bashkirs and tchouvaches. a few mongol words are still found in the turkish dialect of the russian mahometans, but they are extremely rare, and this may be easily explained. the soldiers of the mongol army were of course bachelors, and when they married kaptshak women, their children adopted the language of their mothers. the sovereigns themselves of this new empire soon embraced mahometanism. bereke, the brother and successor of batou, set the first example; usbeck khan, who reigned in , followed in his steps, and declared himself the protector of islam, which thenceforth became the creed of the conquerors as well as of the conquered. it must not be inferred from the preceding statement that the turks and mongols may not, in more remote times, have belonged to one and the same race; we are not quite of that opinion; we have considered the turkish race only under the conditions in which it appeared in europe and asia about the twelfth century, that is to say, modified by long contact with the caucasian nations, and we have left altogether out of view what it may previously have been. moreover, if de guignes is rightly informed, the inhabitants of the kaptshak are really of mongol origin, and the soldiers of genghis khan took pains to prove to them that they were their countrymen. towards the close of the fifteenth century, the empire of the kaptshak was divided into several khanats--kasan, astrakhan, and the crimea, the rulers of which, descended from genghis, were all mongols; but then they had no longer armies drawn from the interior of asia, and the turkish element finally prevailed throughout the whole population. still, it cannot be denied that the mahometan hordes of russia present some resemblance to the mongols, and this tends to confirm the ideas we have expressed above. but then it is obvious that two nations that served so long under the same banners, and lived under the same government, must have intermarried with each other, and that their blood must have been frequently mingled. moreover, it is a most remarkable fact, with what pertinacity the mongol type maintains its identity in spite of the mixture of many generations; a few marriages are sufficient to spread traces of it in the course of a certain time, over a whole nation. i have seen one example of this in the cossacks, who have been living amidst the kalmucks for about two hundred years. the tatars in the mountains of the crimea more rarely exhibit mongol features; the greek profile is frequently found among them. this difference is owing to their mixture with the goths, the greeks, and the remnants of other nations that have successively overrun the peninsula. the nogais, who inhabit the plains of the crimea, and the steppes of the sea of azof, are unquestionably the nearest in appearance to the mongols of all the tatars, and generally their physiognomy is such as cannot be attributed to any other origin. moreover, according to their own traditions, they never made part of the kaptshak, nor did they arrive in europe until subsequently to the death of genghis khan, after having dwelt from time immemorial, if not with the mongols, at least in their vicinity. according to lesvèque, the horde of the nogais, long the most celebrated of the west after that of the kaptshak, was constituted in the thirteenth century by nogai, a tatar general, who, after conquering the countries north of the black sea, succeeded in forming a state independent of the kaptshak. the traditions i collected among the nogais themselves, make no mention whatever of a general of that name; their chronicles allege that the name of the nation is derived from _neogai_ (which may be translated by the phrase, _mayst thou never know happiness_), and that it was bestowed on them in their old country, on account of their precarious and vagabond life.[ ] i am inclined to adopt this opinion; for considering the importance which the nogais attach to nobility and to antiquity of race, it would be very extraordinary that they should not have preserved the name of the founder of their power. the same traditions relate that after the death of genghis khan, the horde whence the nogais of the crimea are descended, arrived under the command of djanibek khan on the volga, the left bank of which it kept possession of for many years. part of this horde afterwards crossed the river, and advancing to the foot of the caucasus, settled on the kouma and the terek. the principal tribe of these tatars, and the same of which we are about to speak, soon forsook those regions, and after crossing the don, the dniepr, and the dniestr, finally settled in bessarabia, in the country called boudjiak. there it remained more than half a century; but being continually harassed by the turks and moldavians, it abandoned its new country, retraced its steps, and under the command of jannat bey, traversed the crimea and the straits of kertch. after reaching the banks of the kouban, the horde was broken up, by internal dissensions, into three branches, the largest of which remained on the kouban, and the others recrossed the straits. one of these tribes fixed itself on the plains of the crimea, and the other returned to bessarabia, partly by land, partly by sea. the nogais of the kouban again divided into several tribes, some of which connected themselves with the kalmuck hordes, others with the mountaineers of the caucasus. during all these emigrations, they were successively commanded by jam adie, kani osman, and kalil effendi, the tatar of the crimea. the latter, at the head of one of the principal tribes the kouban, marched along the eastern coast of the sea of azof, crossed the don, and encamped on the banks of the moloshnia vodi, where he died; his tomb still exists near the nogai village of keneges, on the berda. he was succeeded by asit bey, who ruled for seventeen years, and was the last tatar chief; he died in . but long before his death, in the time of catherine ii., these nogai hordes were completely subjected to the laws of the empire, and were under the management of russian officials. count maison, a french emigrant, was appointed their governor in , and he it was, who by dint of perseverance, made them renounce their nomade ways, and settle in villages. the nogais now occupy the whole region between the sea of azof and the moloshnia vodi. they are about , souls, residing in seventy-six villages. as long as they were vagrants they remained very poor, cultivating no grain but millet, which was their usual food, and of this they could hardly procure a sufficient supply. turbulent, fickle, and thievish, they had an insurmountable aversion for all steady toil, and particularly for agricultural labour; their occupations were tending cattle, hunting, riding, music, and dancing. they were fond of assembling and sitting in a ring, smoking and hearing the traditions of their forefathers. all the cares of the household fell upon the women. their clothes, cooking utensils, bread, &c., they procured in exchange for cattle. they seldom remained many months in one spot; an hour was enough for them to pack up wife, children, and goods in their araba,[ ] and then moving at random towards some other point of the horizon, they carried with them all they possessed. "such is the order established by god himself," cried the nogai, "to us he has given wheels, to other nations fixed dwellings and the plough." there was little wealth among them in those times, though there was a certain overbearing aristocracy that monopolised all the gifts of fortune and power to the detriment of the other members of the community, many of whom, either through ignorance or sloth, became even slaves of the shrewder and braver. such was the origin of the authority of the mourzas, or noble chiefs of the _aouls_ (villages, encampments). the nogais had for their emigrations, like the kalmucks, circular tents of felt, three or four yards in diameter, and conical at top. in winter, they constructed earthen huts beside their kibitkas. such cold and damp dwellings were very prejudicial to health, as was proved by the multitude of children that died every year. under count maison's wise and disinterested administration, all these old habits disappeared by degrees, and the nogais began to improve their condition. by dint of patience and zeal they were prevailed on to build commodious dwellings, and having once established themselves in villages, their prosperity went on regularly increasing, and every man had the means of procuring subsistence for his family by his own labour. count maison is still remembered by the nogais with the most lively gratitude, but his honesty did not protect him from malevolence and intrigues; it provoked against him all the subordinate functionaries whose peculations he prevented; and after enduring disgusts and annoyances without number, he sent in his resignation to st. petersburg in . since that time the nogais have had no special governor, but are under the control of functionaries attached to the ministry of the interior, who reside in their villages. they have, however, preserved the judicial authority of their cadis, and the russian tribunals only take cognizance of those criminal and civil cases which the cadis cannot decide. the nogais are exempt from military service, but they pay money contributions to the crown, at the rate of thirty rubles for each family. for about fifteen years past a mennonite of the german colonies has of his own accord continued the work so judiciously begun by count maison. m. cornies, one of the most remarkable men in new russia, deservedly exercises the greatest influence over the nogais, among whom his advice and exertions have already produced some excellent results. the miserable villages of former days have been gradually superseded by pretty houses in the german style, surrounded with gardens, and agriculture has made such progress, that a large number of farmers are now able to export corn. the nogais are rather strict observers of the precepts of islam. their country contains eleven mosques, and each village has several houses for prayer. their clergy are subject to the mufti of the crimea and of his representative, who resides in the aoul of emmaout; they consist of effendi mollahs, mollas, and cadis. the mollahs take tithe of all grain, and a fortieth of the cattle. their functions are to call the people to prayer, to pray for the sick, write talismans, preside at sacrifices, marriages, and funerals, and perform all the rites of public worship. the effendi mollahs draw up articles of marriage and divorce; and, in concert with the village elders, they decide all quarrels and suits between husband and wife, and all questions relative to the sale of the latter. they also fulfil along with the cadis the duties of interpreters of the law, and preceptors of the koran. circumcision, which boys undergo at ten or twelve years of age, is performed by the bab (father), whose office is hereditary. hadjis, or pilgrims, who have visited the kaaba of mecca, though they have no official duties, still possess great authority, and are consulted on almost all occasions; they are distinguished by a green or white shawl rolled round their woollen caps. the pilgrimage to mecca, is not quite obligatory on the nogais, who generally exempt themselves from it by means of offerings and sacrifices. the new measures adopted by the russians render this journey very difficult, and the tatars must soon renounce it altogether. every individual is bound before he sets out to prove that he takes with him at least _l._; his passport costs him nearly _l._, and if he does not return, the whole village where he was born is bound to pay his quota of taxation until a new census of the population is made. expiatory sacrifices are very common among the nogais: they take place during the kourban bairam, on the occasion of a death, for the commemoration of deceased persons, on the celebration of a marriage, on return from a journey, and as an atonement for the omission of any religious duty. those who offer them up invite to their houses their friends and relations, and the poor of the village, to whom they give a good portion of the victim, which is either a sheep or a cow, according to the wealth of the individual, or the importance of the occasion. the great forty days fast of ramazan is strictly observed only by aged persons of either sex. curiously enough the obligation of prayer is imposed only on persons aged forty or fifty; the seventh day of the mussulman week, which corresponds to our friday, is celebrated only by the priests and some devout old men. the prohibition against wine is not at all regarded by the young, especially in travelling. in general the rising generation of nogais pay very little heed to the commandments of mahomet, and by no means share this religious fanaticism of the asiatic mussulmans. long and handsome beards are held in great veneration among them. old men shave the whole head, but the young leave a small tuft growing on the top of the crown. this custom obliges them to wear woollen caps in all seasons. the nogais have generally two wives, and some even three, but this is a very rare case. the plurality and sale of wives frequently occasion quarrels, brawls, and acts of bloody vengeance. charity, which is regarded in the koran as one of the greatest virtues, extends only to the poor who beg from door to door, and who are usually given a little bread and millet. orphans and old people are left to the care of their friends or relations, for the nogais have no public establishment for the indigent. the fidelity of the nogais is proverbial; even the most thievish of them would never betray a trust reposed in them. as for the ancient hospitality, it is now only exercised from habit, and very rarely from virtue. still they invariably afford the most cordial welcome to every aged mussulman or hadji, and in these cases their hospitality is quite patriarchal. reverence for the aged is considered by them as a sacred duty. one of the most striking characteristics of these tatars is their excessive vanity with regard to every thing that concerns the nobility of their ancestors. it shows itself not only towards strangers, but also in their dealings with each other. they profess likewise the most profound contempt for the persians, the turks, and even for the mountain tatars of the crimea, and deem it a dishonour to intermarry with those nations, which yet are of the same creed, if not of the same origin with themselves. the nogai alternates between total supineness and extraordinary exertion, so that to make any profit of him he must be employed by task work and not by the day. this sloth, however, is not so much a vice inherent in the character of the nation as a result of its old vagrant and precarious existence, and of its limited wants. on the other hand, the nomade habits of other days have developed the capacity of this people in a remarkable degree, and whether as artisans or journeymen, agriculturists or manufacturers, the nogais invariably give proof of great ability and skill. the nogai is of moderate stature, but well proportioned; his movements are free and unembarrassed, and his attitude is never awkward under any circumstances. the women are, like all those of the east, comely when young; but when old they are horribly ugly. neither sex exhibits any decided national physiognomy; countenances both of the circassian and the mongol type are very common among them. the nogai constructs his own cottage with bricks dried in the sun, and whitewashes it regularly once a year within and without. its dimensions are scarcely more than two or three-and-thirty feet by thirteen. the roof consists of a few rafters on which are laid reeds and branches of trees loaded with earth and ashes. a dwelling of this kind hardly costs more than rubles; others of a larger size, with a floor and ceiling of wood, cost from to rubles. each dwelling consists of two rooms, the kitchen, which is next the entrance, and the family room. the kitchen contains a fireplace, an iron pot, wooden vessels for milk and butter, harness and agricultural implements; the second room, which serves as a dormitory, is furnished with felt carpets, quilts, a pile of cushions, boxes containing clothes, and a dozen of napkins embroidered with coloured silk or cotton, according to the fortune of the family, and hung round the room. when the nogai has two or more wives he constructs his house in such a manner that each of them may have her separate room. the costume of the nogais is commodious. it consists of wide trousers, a cotton or woollen shirt, and a short caftan, fastened round the waist with a leathern girdle. their head-dress is a cylindrical cap of lamb's-skin. in the winter they wear a sheep's-skin over the caftan, and in snowy weather they muffle themselves in a bashlik, or hood, which conceals their head and shoulders. the women wear a shift, a cloth caftan, belted above the hips with a broad girdle adorned with large metal buckles, turkish trousers and slippers. their head-dress is a white veil fastened to the crown of the head, with the two ends hanging gracefully on the shoulders. they wear little silver finger and nose rings, and heavy earrings often connected by a chain passing under the chin. young girls part their hair into a multitude of tresses, and instead of the veil wear a little red skull-cap bedizened with bits of metal and all sorts of gewgaws. the nogais eat mutton, beef, mares' flesh, &c., fish, and dairy produce. they prepare koumiss from mares' milk, and esteem it above all other liquors. they also kill sick horses for food, and very often do not disdain the flesh of one that has died a natural death. mares' flesh, minced, forms the chief part of a national dish called _tarama_, which the men eat with their friends in token of sincerity and brotherhood. the women are not allowed to partake of these repasts. their favourite dish is millet boiled in water, with a little sour milk called _tchourtzch_. kalmuck tea is also much esteemed, and since the improvement of agriculture, the use of bread, which was formerly unknown, is gradually spreading among them. their most common diseases are fever, small-pox, ulcers, itch, and syphilis. no one takes any means either to avoid or cure them. charms are the only medicine known to the nogais, and they are even quite indifferent to certain maladies which they attribute to fatality. they attribute great medicinal virtues to pepper, alum, sugar, and honey. the mortality of infants is frightful among them, and accounts for the stationary condition in which the population has long remained. no system of education as yet exists among the nogais; their children grow up like the young of animals. every village, indeed, possesses a cabin decorated with the name of school, in which the clergy give some imperfect lessons in the tatar language and writing; but the rest of their teaching, which is exclusively religious, consists in the reading of arabic books, which the teachers understand no better than the pupils. the rearing of cattle, particularly horses, forms the chief occupation of the nogais. their horses are of the kalmuck khirghis race, nimble and robust, though of moderate size, and usually fetch from to rubles: they pass the whole year in the steppe, and have to find their food under the snow in winter. the horned cattle is small. the cows sell for twenty or thirty rubles; they give little milk, and are generally unprofitable. camels are little used and seldom seen. in count maison's time the nogais were required to sow, at least, two tchetverts of corn per head, which made a total of about , tchetverts for the whole population. a year after the count's retirement, the seed sown in the whole territory did not exceed , tchetverts, and the quantity went on diminishing from year to year. but since the disastrous winters, for cattle, of and , the nogais have been induced, by m. cornies, to apply themselves again to agriculture, and the women have taken a part with the men in field labours. their mode of cultivating the ground is extremely defective; they have bad ploughs drawn by four or five pair of oxen, whilst their neighbours, the germans, do infinitely more work with but two. the harvest generally takes place in july, and is a season of great jollity. gipsy musicians stroll over the country at that period, and collect an ample store of wheat and millet. the corn is trodden out by horses in the open air: the best, which is called _arnaout_, sells at from seven to twelve rubles the tchetvert. the territory of the nogais is still common property, and the want of finite boundaries occasions many quarrels, especially at harvest time. as usual, among eastern nations, the nogai women do all the household drudgery, for the men think it beneath them to take part in it. the poor mother of the family is therefore obliged to prepare the victuals with her own hands, to wash the linen, milk the cows and mares, keep the house in repair, churn butter, &c., and take care of the children. she must also gather the firewood, prepare all the drinkables, make candles and soap, and dress the sheep-skins to make pelisses for all the family. this is hard drudgery, and a few years of such married life suffice to make her old. under such circumstances it is not surprising that the nogai cannot content himself with one wife, and that the purchase of young girls is so important and costly an affair among them. a man usually chooses his wife from a remote village; for every young man makes it a point of honour not to have seen his wife before marriage. the only particulars he is anxious to learn indirectly is whether the lady is plump and has long hair. when his choice is fixed, he bargains with the father or the relations of the girl for the price he is to pay for her. a handsome girl of good family costs four or five hundred rubles, besides a couple of score of cows and a few other beasts. young widows are cheaper, and old women are to be had for nothing. the bride's price is paid on the spot by the wooer, and a horse and two oxen are reckoned equivalent to a couple of cows. the girl's inclinations are never consulted, and she submits to her lot with stoical indifference; she is given dresses, mattresses, and cushions by way of dower. matches are often made when the bride is still in her cradle, the bridegroom's father paying down a part of the stipulated sum, and when the girl has attained the age of thirteen or fourteen, the marriage takes place without any opposition on the young man's part. but this traffic in girls often occasions long lawsuits between families. various accidents occur to prevent the espousals, such as mutilation, loss of health or beauty, and, above all, bad faith, and hence arise animosities that are often transmitted from one generation to another. the women of the mountain race of tatars of the crimea, and the kalmuck women, cost less than young nogai girls, and are purchased by the poorer classes. on the day appointed for the wedding, the young people, who have not yet seen each other, choose each of them a deputy, who exchange hands on their behalf, and thus the marriage rite is accomplished. the day is spent in merriment, and in the evening the bride is veiled, and escorted by a troop of women to the conjugal abode, where she sees her husband for the first time. the young wife must remain shut up at home for a whole year, and see no men, conversing only with her husband and his relations. after this her emancipation is celebrated by a grand banquet. the nogai women are very timid, for the jealousy of their husbands is extreme. when a married man dies, his brothers inherit his widows, and may keep or sell them as they please. a husband may repudiate his wife whenever he chooses, but she is entitled to marry again after the legalisation of the divorce. when a nogai has many wives, the first retains peculiar privileges so long as she is young and handsome, but when her beauty fades, a younger rival always gains the good graces of the husband. hence arise interminable quarrels, and domestic peace is only maintained by the kantshouk or whip of the lord of the mansion. on the whole, the women endure a hard slavery; but their ignorance of a better state of things makes their chains set light on them, and they are insensible of the degraded condition in which they are kept by their absolute lords. it would be difficult to predict with accuracy the fate reserved for all this mahometan population. the nogais have doubtless made great progress within the last twenty years; but their religious notions and their moral and political constitution will long impede their complete reformation, and it will need many a generation to eradicate from among them all those prejudices and all those old habits of a wandering life, which so fatally obstruct their prosperity and their intellectual growth. besides, it is now impossible to mistake the tendency of the policy adopted by the russian government towards the foreign races: there is every reason to think that they will at last be entirely absorbed by the slavic population. footnotes: [ ] histoire de la russie, par lesvèque. bibliothèque orientale, par d'herbelot. hist. des cosaques, par lesur. [ ] voyage au caucase, par klaproth, en et . [ ] see klaproth, asia polyglotta, p. . [ ] the kitans occupied the country north of the chinese provinces of tschy li and ching-ching, watered by the charamuin, or liao ho and its confluents. ibid. [ ] the chain of mountains called in chan, begins north of the country of the ordos, or of the most northern curve of the hoang ho, or yellow river, and extends eastward to the sources of the rivers that fall into the western part of the gulf of pekin. [ ] we have entirely rejected from our discussion the word _tartar_, which owes its origin only to a _jeu de mots_, of which st. louis was the author. [ ] _mongal_ is the most frequent reading in the mss.; and where the more exact reading, _mongal_, occurs, it is probably a correction by the copyists. _mongal_ is the form prevalent among the russians; and we have already had occasion to remark, that in transcribing proper names, du plan de carpin generally adopts the slavonic pronunciation, as he had it from his companion and interpreter, benedict of poland. (extract from the interesting treatise of m. d'avezac, on the travels of du p. de c.) [ ] terra quadam est in partibus orientis de qua dictum est supra, quæ mongal nominatur. hæc terra quondam populos quatuor habuit: unus yeka mongal, id est magni mongali vocabantur; secundus su mongal, id est aquatici mongali vocabantur; sibi autem se ipsos tartaros appellabant, a quodam fluvio qui currit per terram illorum qui tatar nominatur. alius appellabatur merkit; quartus mecrit. hi populi omnes unam formani personarum et unam linguam habebant, quamvis inter se per provincias et principes essent divisi. in terra jeka mongal fuit quidam qui vocabatur chingis; este incepit esse robustus venator coram domino: dedicit enim homines furari, rapere prædam. ibat autem ad alias terras et quoscumque poterat capere et sibi associare non demittebat; homines autem suæ gentes ad se inclinavit, qui tanquam ducem ipsum sequebantur ad omnia malefacta. hic autem incepit pugnare cum su mongal sive tartaris, postquam plures homines aggregaverat sibi, et interfecit ducem eorum, et multo bello sibi omnes tataros subjugavit et in suam servitutem recepit ac redegit. post hæc cum omnibus istis pugnavit cum merkitis, qui erant positi juxta terram tartarorum, quas etiam sibi bello subjecit. inde procedens pugnavit contra mecritas et etiam illos devicit. [ ] the name _nogaï_ appears to me to have occasioned the same mistakes as tatar; misled by the conspicuous part played for some time by the nogaï hordes, most writers have comprehended under that name all the mussulman tribes of the provinces of astrakhan and kasan. [ ] a large four-wheeled vehicle covered with felt. the wheels are never greased, and the noise they make can often be heard at a distance of several versts. chapter xxviii. banks of the kouma; vladimirofka--m. rebrof's repulse of a circassian foray--bourgon madjar--journey along the kouma-- view of the caucasian mountains--critical situation--georgief --adventure with a russian colonel--story of a circassian chief. notwithstanding the dangers and hardships that had attended our desert wanderings, it was not without some degree of regret we bade a final adieu to the kalmucks, whose patriarchal simplicity of life we had shared for more than a month. but as we approached vladimirofka, and beheld the clear waters of the kouma, its wooded banks, and the lovely scenery around, the change was indescribably delightful to eyes long accustomed to the blank and arid wilderness. in front of us stood a handsome dwelling on a gentle slope, flanked with two turrets, and surmounted by a belvedere rising above the trees. behind us lay the kalmuck camps and their herds of camels, resembling in the distance those effects of the mirage that are so common in the desert. a little to the left, the village, picturesquely situated at the foot of the mansion, descended in terraces to the margin of the kouma, displaying its pretty workshops, and its houses parted from each other by plantations of mulberries, hazels, and lombardy poplars, tinted with the varied hues of autumn. all the enchantments that opulence could call forth from a fruitful soil, were there assembled, as a bountiful compensation for our past fatigues. the camel-drivers and the cossacks of our escort fully shared our delight, and remained like ourselves wonder-stricken before that brilliant apparition. soon afterwards we entered the yard of the mansion, which was soon crowded with _employés_ and servants, all greatly puzzled to conceive whence could have come so strange a caravan. our appearance might well excite their astonishment. the britchka, drawn by three camels, preceded a little troop composed of four or five cossacks, armed to the teeth, and several kalmucks leading other camels loaded with all our nomadic gear. our cossack officer, with his falcon on his fist, and his long rifle slung behind him, rode close to the door of the carriage, ready, with russian precision, to transmit our orders to the escort, and to gallop off at the slightest signal; whilst our dragoman, lolling on the box-seat with italian _nonchalance_, looked down with profound disdain on the bustling throng around us, and did not condescend to answer one word to their thousand questions. m. rebrof, the proprietor of vladimirofka, having been waited on by our officer, came out and welcomed us in the most polite and cordial manner, and showed us into delightful apartments on the ground floor, looking out on a large, handsome garden, and containing a billiard-table and several numbers of the _revue etrangère_. then, after empowering us to make free use of his servants, his garden, his horses, and all his property, our host left us to ourselves, with a delicate tact not always displayed even by well-bred persons. well, after all, it is a very good thing when one has long been deprived of all the comforts and conveniences of life, to come upon them again in full measure, and slide back into one's old habits; to pass from the kalmuck kibitka to a lordly mansion,--from the horrible flat cake of unleavened dough to fresh bread every day--from the wearisome march of the camels to the repose of the divan--from the monotony of the steppes to all the comforts of civilised life. it is really a very good thing, especially if one has the rare good fortune to enjoy, in addition to all these pleasures, the hospitality of a most friendly and engaging family. in fact, what gives the most racy zest to travelling is precisely these contrasts that await you at every step, and which enable you to appreciate matters justly by comparison; for after all what is a good dinner to one who dines well every day? what are a divan, books, music, pictures, to the privileged being who has them always before him? more than half his time is spent in yawning at the chimney corner; music wearies him; reading makes his eyes ache; his cook is a dull blockhead, and has no invention! oh, the weary dreary lot of the wealthy man! but let some good genius suddenly whisk him off into the heart of the desert; let him be forced to wash down his biscuit with brackish water from the standing pool, to count on his falcon's quarry for his dinner, to lie on the hard ground, to bear rain, wind, and dust, to hear only the cries of camels, and see only kalmuck faces; and afterwards, when he returns to all the good things he despised before, he will be heard exclaiming in the joy of his heart, "oh! what a pleasant thing it is to eat, sleep, and dream; what a very comfortable life this is!" vladimirofka is one of the finest properties i have seen in russia. the whole economy of this magnificent establishment bespeaks the enlarged and enlightened views of its master. it is about fifty years since m. rebrof laid the first foundations of his colony, undismayed by the obstacles and dangers he encountered in all shapes. he wished to make profitable use of the fine waters of the kouma, which had never before been bridled in their course by man; and now several mills, set up by him, enliven the whole neighbourhood by their continual din. the mildness of the climate has allowed him to make numerous plantations of mulberries, which have perfectly succeeded, and to establish factories, the productions of which may vie with the finest silks of provence. another manufacture which he is carrying on with great spirit is that of champagne wine. he sends every year at least , bottles to moscow, and sells them at the rate of four rubles a bottle. by dint of energy and perseverance he has called up life and abundance in a wild uncultivated spot, which before had served only for the temporary halts of the kalmucks and turcomans. many peasants whom he brought with him from great russia, and who had been habituated to an almost savage state of existence, have been transformed by him into good workmen, industrious husbandmen, and, on occasion, into soldiers devoted to their master. in , some three-score circassians, tempted by the hope of a rich booty, made a descent from their mountains to sack and pillage vladimirofka, expecting to surprise the little village population by night, and to find them wholly unprepared. but though m. rebrof had enjoyed complete security for many years, he had never deceived himself as to the dangers of his position, but always expected to be attacked sooner or later; and, therefore, he had from the first taken all possible precautions against the designs of his formidable neighbours. two branches of the kouma served as fosses for the village and the château; there was a small redoubt with two pieces of cannon commanding the most exposed side, and in a room on the ground-floor of the mansion there was a well-stocked armoury, with all things requisite for sustaining a siege. with these means, m. rebrof felt confident he could resist any attack. every night two sentinels kept watch until dawn, and it was this seemingly superfluous measure that saved vladimirofka from total destruction. the circassians, never reckoning on such extreme caution, arrived one night in face of the village, and felt sure that their approach was unsuspected. but the alarm had been already given, and the whole population, suddenly aroused out of their sleep, were ready for the fight. arms were distributed to the workpeople and servants, the drawbridges were raised, the two cannons were loaded with grape, and the château was transformed into a fortress. all this was done with such rapidity, that when the circassians came to the banks of the river, they found the village in a perfect state of defence. they attempted, however, to swim their horses over the kouma, but were repulsed by a brisk fire. three or four other attempts were equally unsuccessful; all points were so well guarded, and the men did their duty so well, that the circassians were obliged to retreat at break of day. but enraged at their disappointment, they set fire to the village and the surrounding woods, and escaped unmolested, under cover of the conflagration, without its being discovered what direction they took. as an economist and administrator, m. rebrof may be compared with the most eminent men of europe, and his manufacturing enterprises are the more meritorious, as he is destitute of the aid of books. knowing only his own language, which is very poor in such practical works as would suit his purposes, he has nothing but a few bad translations of french and german works, which would be of little avail but for his own superior sagacity. his gardens are filled with all the fruits of europe, and with several kinds of grapes, from which he derives a large profit. among these i particularly noticed the schiras grape, which has no stones. nor must i forget his excellent _oeil de perdrix_ wine, which he set before us every day after dinner, with the pride of a manufacturer. nothing could exceed his satisfaction on hearing us compare it with the best vintages of france, as we did in all sincerity on our first arrival. afterwards our enthusiasm cooled down a little; but it did not matter; our host was still persuaded that his wine could compete with the best made in champagne. it was painful to us to quit vladimirofka. had the season been less advanced, we would willingly have remained there another week; but we had still to visit the caucasus, and september was drawing to a close. we had, therefore, to make haste and profit by the fine weather that still remained for us. m. rebrof's horses conveyed us to bourgon madjar, a property belonging to general skaginsky. it is situated on the kouma, about thirty versts from vladimirofka, like which, it possesses fine woods and beautiful scenery. it was our intention only to change horses there, but the steward, who had been expecting us for two days, determined otherwise, and to please him we were constrained to lose two days in his company. our complaisance would not have extended so far had our choice been free; but the moment we entered his doors he told us very positively we should have no horses until the day after the morrow. it was to no purpose we raved and entreated; we were forced to submit to a tyranny that was more flattering than agreeable. the difficulty of understanding each other without an interpreter added to our embarrassment and ill-humour. the whole conversation on the first day was made up of two words _mozhna_ (you can stay), and _nilza_ (it is impossible). but setting aside the loss of two days, which were then very precious, i must allow that our time passed agreeably, and our host did his best to entertain us. the first day was spent in seeing the buildings, gardens, vineyards, mills, and all that was under the immediate management of the steward. every thing was in as excellent order as if the whole of the fine property had been constantly under the master's eye. but general skaginsky hardly ever visits it, contenting himself with the receipt of the proceeds, which amount to about , rubles. the stable contains some capital saddle horses, that tempted us to make a long excursion through the forest. we also saw antelopes almost tame, and of exquisite beauty. whole herds of them are sometimes found in this part of the steppes. the woods adjacent to the kouma also contain deer and wild boars. the steward pressed hard for one day more that he might get up a hunt for us, but we would not hear of it, and answered with so peremptory a _nilza_ that he was obliged to submit to what he called our obstinacy. his anxiety to retain us may be easily accounted for by the extreme loneliness in which he lives. he is a pole by birth, and has known a different condition from that of a steward, as his tastes prove. he is a poet, a musician, and a wit--three qualities singularly at variance with his calling. but as he is alone, and has no superior to control his tastes, he may meditate, virgil in hand, on the charms of rural life. a guitar, a few select books, and the visitations of the muse, enable him to nourish an intellectual existence amidst all his prosaic occupations. after quitting bourgon madjar we passed through the place where formerly stood the celebrated madjar, whose past is still a problem for historians. nothing remains of it, not even a few bricks to attest its former existence. the russians have carried it away piecemeal to build their villages. we now rapidly approached the caucasus; the elbrouz (the highest mountain of the chain) from time to time gave us a glimpse of its majestic head, almost always wrapped in mist, as if to conceal it from profane eyes. tradition informs us that noah's dove alighted on its summit, and there plucked the mystic branch which afterwards became the christian symbol of peace and hope. hence the mountain is held in high veneration by all the races of the caucasus: christians, idolaters, and mussulmans, all agree in regarding it as holy. we were now in an enchanted region, though but just beyond the verge of the steppes. the faint lines discernible in the sky assumed gradually more distinct form and colour; the mountains appeared to us first as light, transparent vapours, floating upon the wind; but by degrees this airy phantasmagoria changed into mountains clothed with forests, deep gorges and domes crowned with mists. we met several horsemen in the circassian garb, whose manly beauty afforded us examples of the noble caucasian race. our minds were almost overwhelmed with a multitude of emotions, excited by the exuberant nature before us, the magnificent vegetation, and the varied hues of the forests and mountains, peaks, crags, ravines, and snowy summits. it was beautiful, superbly beautiful, and then it was the caucasus! the caucasus, a name associated with so many grand historic memories, with the earliest traditions and most fabulous creeds; the abode, in the morning of the world, of families whence issued so many great nations. round it hangs all the vague poetry of the ages visible only to the imagination, through the mysterious veil of antiquity. what a sad thing it was in the midst of all our ecstatic enthusiasm, to be obliged to descend to the vulgar concerns of locomotion, and to be crossed and thwarted at every step. we were more than ten versts from georgief, when we were stopped in a village by the perversity of a postmaster, who refused to let us have horses at any price. it was raining in torrents, and the mud in the village was like a quagmire. the cossack and anthony ran about among all the peasants, trying to prevail on them to hire us horses; but the russians are so lazy that they would rather lose an opportunity of earning money than quit their sweet repose. at last, after four hours search, the two men came back with three wretched hacks they had carried off by force from different peasants. for want of a roof to shelter us we had been obliged to sit all that while in the britchka, and when the miserable team was yoked it could hardly draw us out of the mud in which the wheels were embedded. the road all the way to georgief was the most detestable that could be imagined. the weather cleared up a little, but the rain had converted all the low plains through which we had to pass into marshes, and had rendered the bridges all but impassable. steep and very narrow descents often obliged us to alight at the risk of leaving our boots in the mud, and for a long while we feared we should not reach georgief that day. finally, however, by dint of flogging, our coachman forced the horses up the last hill, and at seven in the evening we reached a wide plateau, at one end of which towered the fortress that commands the road to the caucasus. we had been told that we should find a fair going on in georgief, and this accounted for the number of horsemen we saw proceeding like ourselves in that direction. i must confess in all humility, that i did not feel quite at my ease whenever one of these groups passed close to our carriage. the bad weather, the darkness, the bold bearing of these mountaineers, and their arms half concealed under their black bourkas, made me rather nervous. we arrived, however, safe and sound in georgief, where we enjoyed our repose and sipped our tea with a zest known only to way-worn travellers. whilst we were thus enjoying ourselves, the tinkling of a pereclatnoi bell in the yard announced a fresh arrival. but we gave ourselves very little concern about the event, for in order to be the more at our ease, we had engaged the travellers' room for ourselves alone. in travelling, people grow selfish, in spite of themselves; and in russia it is a very lucky chance indeed that enables you now and then to display that quality. we therefore paid no heed to the tinklings that seemed with increasing vehemence to demand shelter for the late coming pilgrim. in a few moments there was a loud hubbub at our door, and we heard anthony's voice stoutly refusing admission into our sanctuary. the postmaster seemed to play but a negative part, venturing only to say now and then, in the humblest tone, "_ne mozhna polkovnick_" (it is not possible, colonel). a deluge of _douraks_, and a few fisticuffs distributed right and left, put an end to the discussion; the door was flung open, and a tall individual, muffled up to the nose, rushed in furiously, halted suddenly, made an awkward bow, and skipped out of the room again, without attempting even to profit by his victory. amazed at this sudden retreat, anthony hastily closed the door he had so bravely defended, and then told us that this officer had refused to listen to a word of explanation, and had threatened, if they provoked him, to turn us all into the street, and take our places. this did not in the least surprise us, for in russia it is a matter of course for a colonel to behave thus to his inferiors, and as this officer was not aware of our being foreigners, he had behaved in the usual peremptory fashion; but he had been taken aback on discovering that we were something else than village pometchiks, and his tone became changed accordingly in the comical manner aforesaid. we were highly diverted by his discomfiture, and to punish his blustering, we let him go and seek a lodging elsewhere. he had not been gone half an hour when another officer drove into the yard, and with more moderation than his predecessor, took up his quarters in the kitchen, which was divided by a thin partition from our room. he was no sooner installed, than the silence was again broken by loud cracks of a whip, and the poor postmaster was at his wits' end. we paid no attention to this incident until our curiosity was excited by hearing some words of french, accompanied by peals of laughter; and on listening we heard the whole of our late adventure narrated in the most amusing manner, the story being interspersed with keen remarks on the unaccountable propensity of some women for travelling, and filling up every hotel. of course we recognised in the orator the hero of the adventure himself. having knocked in vain at all the doors in georgief, he found he could do no better than return to the confounded station, and take his chance of sleeping in the stable; but hearing that a comrade had taken up his abode in the kitchen, he had determined to beg leave to join him. all this, be it observed, was said in french, to prevent our understanding it; this was amusing enough; but the conversation soon became so confidential, that we were obliged to raise our voices, as a hint to our neighbours to speak russian. they did nothing all night but smoke, drink tea, and talk. next day, having ascertained that we were french, they sent the postmaster to us, begging we would allow them to come and apologise for the inconvenience they had caused us. we found them well-bred gentlemen, and we had a good laugh together at the strange manner in which our mutual acquaintance had taken place. we all left the station nearly together. after breakfasting with us, they set out, one of them for persia, the other for the north. for ourselves, as we intended to stop some days in georgief, until the roads should have become drier, we accepted the invitation of the governor of the fortress to reside with him. the mud was so deep in the yard of the post-house, that we were obliged to have a bridge of planks made for us to the carriage, and the grooms and the persons who had occasion to enter the house, had to cross the yard on horseback. in passing through the street we saw an unfortunate peasant sunk up to his middle, and making prodigious efforts to extricate his cart and oxen. our hospitable and obliging entertainer, the general, told us many particulars respecting the tribes of the caucasus, and we saw at his table a great number of kabardian chiefs whom the fair had brought to georgief. there was one among them whose handsome, grave features, and somewhat wild appearance, excited our curiosity; and the general perceiving this, told us all he knew about the man. i will relate the story as nearly as possible in his own words. "about two years ago i was ordered to make a tour of inspection among the friendly tribes of the caucasus, and had nearly completed it, when arriving one evening near an aoul situated on a mountain, the summit of which you can see from here, i noticed that the village was in great commotion. being accompanied by a detachment of cossacks, i had no need to be apprehensive about the result, happen what might; still i thought it advisable to take some precautions, and settled with the commanding officer of the detachment what was to be done if we were attacked. i then got on a few hundred paces ahead of the party, and advanced softly, like an _éclaireur_, to a place where the whole population was assembled. as it was rather dark, and i was covered with a bourka, no one took any notice of me, and i was allowed to make my observations without impediment. "when my eyes had grown more familiarised with the objects about me, i perceived that the crowd was gathered round the ruins of a house that seemed to have been very recently burned down. though ignorant of what had happened, i felt certain that the burning was connected with some deed of violence and bloodshed, for i had long known these mountaineers, whose violent passions are kept in constant excitement by the false position in which they are placed both as to the russians, whom they detest while they submit to their power, and with regard to the free tribes, who cannot forgive them for their compulsory submission. on inspecting the various groups more narrowly, i saw a kabardian lying on the ground, with his cloak drawn over his face, while every one gazed on him with a respectful pity. puzzled still more to know what this meant, and not seeing any reason why i might not make myself known, i was about to put some questions to the person next me, when the sound of approaching hoofs called off the attention of the crowd in another direction. it was my party, who had become uneasy about me, and had quickened their march. the mountaineers all clustered round my soldiers, but without any such hostile demonstrations as we had encountered in the other aouls. every body seemed under the influence of some unusual feeling, that made him forget for the while the hatred which the mere sight of a cossack awakens among these people. "i issued the necessary orders for the encampment of my party, and when all was made safe for the night, i returned to the spot where my curiosity had been so strongly excited; and there lay the mountaineer still stretched on the ground, looking like a corpse under the black bourka that covered him. several women sat round him, and one of them, who was very young, and seemed less distressed than the others, at last satisfied my impatience, and told me a tale which was confirmed by the whole population of the village. "the person i saw stretched on the ground before the ashes of his own house, was the chief of the aoul, and belonged to a princely family, living independently amidst their own mountains. at the age of twenty he unfortunately became his elder brother's rival, and in order to possess the wife of his choice, he had carried her off, and settled under the protection of russia. this latter act, the most infamous of which a mountaineer can be guilty when he commits it of his own accord, remained a long while unpunished during the wars between russia and the tribes. for fifteen years nothing occurred to make the refugee suppose that his brother thought of him at all. the wife had died a few years after the elopement, leaving him a daughter, who grew up so beautiful, that the whole tribe called her the rose of the mountain. "now on the day before my arrival in the aoul, four independent mountaineers had visited the chief as friends, and told him that his brother was dead, and that he might now return home without any fear of danger. the strangers spent the night under his roof, and did all they could to persuade him to accompany them; but next day, finding they could make no impression on his mind, they set fire to his house, stabbed him in several places, and seizing his daughter, galloped away before any one was prepared to pursue them. most of the inhabitants were a-field at the time, and when i came up at dusk it was too late to think of overtaking the assassins. although i was assured that the man was dead, i had him carried to a house, where every possible care was bestowed upon him. in about an hour he became conscious, and there appeared some hope of saving him. our acquaintance, which began in so dramatic a manner, afterwards became as intimate as it could be between a russian general and a caucasian chief. "but for a long while my influence over the mind of the unfortunate father was totally unable to overcome the despair and thirst of vengeance occasioned by the abduction of his daughter. at the head of the most determined men of his aoul and of some cossacks, he thrice endeavoured to force his way into that part of the mountain where his kindred resided; but these attempts led to nothing but desperate conflicts and fierce reprisals. he was about making a fourth attempt about two months ago, when we were informed by a spy that the rose of the mountain had been sent to trebisond, to become the ornament of some harem in constantinople. "from that time a gradual change took place in the savage temper of the kabardian; the idea that his daughter was no longer in the hated mountains, was balm to his wounds. he attached himself to the society of the officers of the garrison, who had become warmly interested in his history. at his own request i have solicited an appointment for him in his majesty's imperial guard, and i hope he will soon be far away from scenes that remind him of such terrible disasters." chapter xxix. road from georgief to the waters of the caucasus--a polish lady carried off by circassians--piatigorsk--kislovodsk-- history of the mineral waters of the caucasus. from georgief we set out for piatigorsk, the chief watering place of the caucasus, and travelled for three hours over a dreary plain, with nothing for the eye to rest on but here and there a long conical mound, that scarcely broke the dull monotony of the landscape; and even these were scarcely visible through the foggy atmosphere. we felt, therefore, a depression of spirits we had never known in our previous journeyings, and it was still more increased by the thought that we might fall in with those circassians whose very name strikes terror into the russians. the two cossacks whom the commandant of georgief had given us for escort, were not the sort of men to assuage our fears, for they seemed themselves very much possessed with a sense of the dangers we were incurring. their visages grew very serious indeed when we had left the plain behind us, and the road began to skirt along a deep valley, with the waters of the pod kouma brawling at the bottom. they were constantly peering in every direction, as if they expected every moment to fall into an ambuscade. presently they stopped, and called our dragoman to show him a spot on which their eyes seemed riveted. one of them began to talk with great volubility, and from his expressive gestures it was evident he was relating some tragic event of which that spot had been witness. and so, indeed, it was. anthony informed us that on the very spot where we stood, a young polish lady had been assailed the year before by several mountaineers, who lay in wait for her in the bed of the torrent. she was on her way to the waters of kislovodsk, accompanied by an escort and two or three servants. her followers were massacred or dispersed, her carriage was rifled, and she herself was carried off and never heard of again, notwithstanding the most active exertions to ascertain her fate. one of the cossacks, who had escaped by miracle from the balls of the circassians, galloped off to georgief, and returned within a few hours to the scene of the catastrophe, accompanied by a detachment of cavalry. they found the carriage broken to pieces, and plundered of all its contents; and the ground was strewed with bodies horribly mutilated and stripped of their arms, but neither the body of the young lady nor that of her waiting-maid was among them. it is to be presumed that the circassians carried them off to their aoul, as the richest spoils of their bloody expedition. the story of this recent tragedy, related on the very spot where it had occurred, made no slight impression upon us; my dismay, therefore, may be imagined, when a sudden clearing up of the fog enabled us to distinguish at a distance of a hundred yards from the road, what seemed but too palpable a realisation of my fearful fancies. there was no room for doubt. the men before us were those terrible circassians i had trembled at the thought of meeting. the scream that escaped me, when i caught sight of them, was fortunately heard by one of our cossacks, who immediately relieved my mind by the assurance that these were men of a friendly tribe. nevertheless, in spite of my conviction that we had no hostilities to apprehend, it was not without some secret uneasiness i saw them defile past us. the troop was a small one, five or six at most, yet they looked dangerous enough. i shall never forget the glances they cast on our cossacks as they rode by, though it was only in looks they manifested the hatred that rankled in their hearts against every thing belonging to russia. they were all fully armed. their pistols and their damasked poniards glittered from beneath their black bourkas. i confess i was best pleased with their appearance when they were just vanishing from sight on the top of a hill, where their martial figures were relieved against the sky. seen through the mist, they set me thinking of ossian's heroes. we continued to wind our way slowly up a steep and narrow track, and for half an hour we did not see a cabin or a living creature except some vultures of the largest kind, flying silently above our heads. at last we reached the culminating point of the road, whence we could look down on the valley, piatigorsk, the villas scattered over the heights, and all the details of a delightful landscape, that seemed as if it had dropped by chance amongst the stern and majestic scenes of the caucasian alps. from thence we had a gentle descent of about a verst to the outskirts of piatigorsk. it is only within the last ten or twelve years that it has been possible to travel in carriages to piatigorsk without extreme risk, partly on account of the hostility of the circassians, and partly in consequence of the state of the roads. the latter have been improved, and a great number of military posts have been established on them, so that now the waters of the caucasus are annually frequented by more than persons, who visit them from all parts of the empire for health or pleasure. catastrophes have become more and more rare, and since that which i have mentioned no other event of the kind has occurred. on arriving at piatigorsk we took up our abode with the principal doctor, for whom we had letters, and who received us in the most obliging manner. unluckily we had abominable weather during the whole time of our stay, and the mountains we had come so far to see were hidden from our eyes by an impenetrable veil of mist. we could just discern from our windows the base of the bechtau, at a distance of but two versts. our first visit was to the alexandra spring, so called after the name of the empress. the waters are sulphurous, and their temperature is above degrees reaumur. the bathing establishment is on a very large scale, and contains every thing requisite for the frequenters of the waters. other thermal springs are found on most of the heights about piatigorsk, and the works that have been constructed to afford access to them do credit to the government. on one of the highest peaks there is an octagonal building, consisting of a cupola supported on light columns, which are surrounded at their base by an elegant balustrade. the interior, which is open to all the winds, contains an æolian harp, the melancholy notes of which descend to the valley, mingled with all the echoes of the mountains. doctor conrad, our host, was the author of this pretty design. being like most germans passionately fond of music, he felt assured that those airy sounds, coming as it were from the sky, would have a most salutary influence on the minds of his patients. the little temple, surnamed the pavilion of Æolus, must be a favourite spot for those who are fond of reverie and lonely contemplation of the sublime scenes of nature. the view from it is of great beauty, but in order to judge of it we should have been more favoured by the weather; but the glowing description given us by our good doctor made some amends for our mischance. i must own, too, that the trouble we took in ascending was not altogether unrequited, for the vague and mysterious outlines of mountains and forests clothed in mists were not without their charms. there are several natural and artificial grottoes in various parts of the mountain, affording cool retreats in the sultry season, and an amusing spectacle to those who sit and watch the company proceeding to and from the baths. the physiognomist may there behold the most varied types of features, from those of the tatar prince of the crimea to those of the fair georgian from tiflis. society in russia has one rare advantage, inasmuch as it is free from that fatiguing monotony which pursues us in almost all european countries. the handsomest quarter of piatigorsk is at the bottom of the valley, where there is a promenade, with fine trees and seats, flanked on either side by a line of handsome houses backed against the cliffs. the permanent population consists only of the civil servants of the government, the garrison, and a few incurable invalids. the crown buildings are numerous, including, besides the bathing establishment, a greek church, a very large hotel for strangers, a concert hall, a charitable institution, a hospital for wounded officers from the caucasus, barracks, &c. on the whole, piatigorsk is not so much a town as a delightful assemblage of country-houses, inhabited for some months of the year by a rich aristocracy. every thing about it is pretty and trim, and displays those tokens of affluence which the russian nobles like to see around them. there is nothing there to offend the eye or sadden the heart, no poor class, no cabins, no misery. it is a fortunate spot, intended to exhibit to the ladies and princes, courtiers, and generals of the empire, none but pleasing images, culled from all that is attractive in nature and art. what wonder, then, if the annals of the place abound in marvellous cures! the doctor, who is a shrewd man, having perhaps his doubts of the sole efficacy of the waters, has done his part to render piatigorsk an earthly paradise; but it must be admitted that his views have been perfectly understood and promoted by the emperor, who is always disposed to display magnificence in the most superficial things. luxurious refinement has here been pushed so far, that the fair and exceedingly indolent dames of moscow and st. petersburg may repair to their baths without alighting from their stylish equipages; and yet the springs are almost all of them several hundred yards above the valley. what peasants' _corvées_, what an amount of toil and suffering do these commodious roads represent! none but the russian government is capable of such acts of gallantry! though the watering season was over when we arrived, the doctor had still a few patients residing with him, who added much, to the pleasure of our evening meetings. among these was a young officer, who had returned with two severe wounds from an expedition against the circassians. the accounts he gave us of his campaign, and of the terrible episodes he had witnessed, often made us shudder. the russians paid dearly for the conquest of some burnt villages. they lost half their men, and officers. one of the friends of our invalid picked up a pretty little circassian girl, whose mother had been killed before his eyes. pitying the fate of the poor orphan, the officer carried her away on his horse, and on reaching piatigorsk, he placed her in a boarding-school kept by some french ladies. we went to see her, and were charmed with her beauty, which promised to sustain her country's reputation in that respect. as the weather was not favourable to long excursions, we passed a week of quiet social enjoyment in the doctor's house; but one fine morning the sun, which we had completely forgotten, broke out through the fog, and recalled us, perhaps against our will, to our adventurous habits. next day we set out for kislovodsk, situated forty versts from piatigorsk, in the interior of the mountains, and possessing acid waters of great reputation. the road, on quitting piatigorsk, passes at first along the wide and deep valley of the pod kouma, which is bounded on the right by rocks heaped on each other like petrified waves, and presenting, in their outlines and rents, all the tokens of a _bouleversement_; whilst on the left, beautiful wooded mountains ascend in successive stages to the imposing chain of the kasbeck. at the distance of about two hours' travelling, the road leaves the valley, which has here become very narrow, and runs on a long sinuous level ledge, parallel with the course of the torrent, up to the point where it begins to enter the mountains, and where the miry soil through which our horses laboured with great difficulty, the grey sky and moist atmosphere that had hitherto accompanied us, were at once exchanged for dryness, cold, dust, and sun. this sudden contrast is a phenomenon peculiar to elevated regions, and had been foretold us by our host, who is very learned in all that concerns the atmospheric variations of his beloved mountains. nothing i have before attempted to describe could compare with the wild and picturesque scenery of this part of the caucasus. at certain intervals we saw conical mounds of earth about sixty feet high, serving as watch-towers, on which sentinels are stationed day and night. their outlines, relieved against the cloudy sky, produces a singular effect amidst the solitude around them. the sight of these cossacks, with muskets shouldered, pacing up and down the small platform on the summit of each eminence, made us involuntarily own our gratitude to the russian government for having cleared this country, and rendered access to it so easy for invalids and tourists. although it was the middle of october, the vegetation was still quite fresh. rich green swards covering the steep slopes of the mountains, afforded abundant pasture for the scattered flocks of goats. their keepers, dressed in sheep-skins, and, instead of crooks, carrying long guns slung at their backs, and two or three powder and ball cases at their girdles, gave a half martial, half pastoral complexion to the landscape. gigantic eagles flew majestically from rock to rock, like the sole sovereigns of those solitary places. here we had really before us what we had dreamed of in the caspian steppes, when, with eyes scorched by the hot sand, and with no amusement but the sight of our camels and the sound of their cries, or the encounter of some kalmuck kibitkas, we tried to beguile the discomforts of our situation by peopling the desert with a thousand fascinating images. before we reached the gorge in which kislovodsk is concealed, we fell in with a second party of circassians; but fortified by the safety with which we had pursued our journey so far, and by our stay in piatigorsk, i indulged without apprehension in the pleasure of admiring them. there were eight or ten of them reposing under a projecting rock, and a very picturesque group they formed. their horses, saddled and bridled, were feeding at a little distance from their masters, who had not disencumbered themselves of their weapons. some had their heads entirely enveloped in _bashliks_, a sort of hood made of camels' hair, which is worn only in travelling; others wore the national fur cap; their garments, of a graceful and commodious form, glittered with broad silver lace; they all had bourkas, a kind of mantle, indispensable to the circassian as his weapons. when our carriage approached them, some of them sat up and looked at us with an air of scornful indifference, but showed no disposition to molest us. our first business on reaching kislovodsk was to visit the source of the acid waters, to which the place owes its celebrity. it does not break out like most others from the side of a mountain, or from a cleft in a rock, but at the bottom of a valley. nature, who usually conceals her treasures in the most inaccessible spots, has made an exception in its favour. a square basin has been constructed for it, and there it seems continually boiling up, though it has no heat. it resembles seltzer-water in its sparkling and its slightly acid taste. kislovodsk consists of about fifteen houses, or rather little asiatic palaces, adorned with long open galleries, terraces, gardens, and vestibules filled with flowers. all the frequenters of piatigorsk finish the watering season at kislovodsk. behind this aristocratic abode extends a narrow gorge, bounded on all sides by vertical mountain crags that seem to cut it off from the whole world. it would require several days to explore all the charming scenes in the neighbourhood. among its natural curiosities is a celebrated cascade hidden in the very heart of the valley. the way to it leads for an hour along the bed its waters have hollowed for themselves through a thick limestone stratum, over a winding path that narrows continually up to the foot of the fall. at that spot you are imprisoned between cliffs so steep that no goat could find footing on them, and you have before you a dazzling sheet of water descending by terraces from a height of more than sixty feet, breaking into snowy foam where it meets with obstacles on its way, and disappearing for a moment under fragments of rocks, beyond which it re-appears as a limpid stream, flowing over a bed of moss and pebbles. the position of kislovodsk exposes it much more that piatigorsk to the assaults of the mountaineers, and one never feels quite safe there, notwithstanding the cossack detachment that guards the heights. a circassian aoul, perched like an eyrie on the highest crest of the adjacent mountains, is a dangerous neighbour for the water drinkers. its inhabitants, though nominally subdued, forego no opportunity of wreaking their hatred on the russians. after our return to the doctor's roof, we went to see the german colony of karas at the foot of the bechtau. its thriving condition does honour both to the colonists and to the government whose protection they have sought. at first it was composed only of scotchmen, and was founded by one peterson, a zealous sectarian, whose chief object was the conversion of the circassians. but his preaching was wholly ineffectual, and by degrees the laborious germans took the place of the scotch missionaries. the original intention of the establishments is now scarcely remembered: the colonists are simply agriculturists, and think only of enriching themselves at the cost of the strangers who come to drink the mineral waters. a short sketch of the history of these waters may not be unacceptable to the reader. it was in the reign of catherine ii., that russia advanced her frontiers to the kouban and the terek, and forced the various tribes established near those rivers to retire into the mountains. in , potemkin invaded what at present forms the territory of piatigorsk, and advanced to the pod kouma at the foot of the bechtau. the fortress of constantinogorsk was erected at that period, and catherine constrained the neighbouring tribes to acknowledge her sovereignty. but this pacification of the country was hollow and fallacious. the chiefs of the bechtau had submitted but in outward appearance; they kept up a secret understanding with the inhabitants of kabarda, and often joined in their marauding expeditions against the common enemy. hence arose continual conflicts between them and the russians. general marcof took command of the caucasus in , and adopted the most rigorous measures against the petty tribes of the bechtau. their country was invaded by a numerous army and given up to pillage, and the mountaineers, driven from their villages, were obliged to seek refuge beyond the kouban and the terek. thenceforth there was more quiet on the line of the caucasus, and the kabardians were less frequently seen in the vicinity of piatigorsk. it was about this time the sulphurous waters were discovered by some soldiers of the th regiment of chasseurs in garrison at constantinogorsk. it appears, however, that they had been long known and used by the people of the country, as proved by some old baths hollowed out of the rock. the discovery made by the soldiers was quickly turned to account by their officers, and a small house was erected near by the principal spring at the cost of the regiment. the sulphurous waters were soon known in the neighbourhood, and their fame was spread all over the empire through the medium of military intercourse. several persons of distinction repaired to them in , at which time medical advice was given by the regimental surgeons, and the patients resided in tents given up for their use by the officers and soldiers. the number of visitors increased every year up to , and the government repeatedly sent chemists and physicians to the spot to study the composition and therapeutic qualities of the waters. unfortunately in , a contagious disease, which soon proved to be the plague, broke out in a circassian aoul, seven versts from georgief. it spread rapidly through all the adjacent countries, and caused a frightful mortality. the sanatory measures adopted in consequence, put an end to all communication between the caucasus and the russian provinces, and the mineral waters were entirely forsaken even by the inhabitants of the country. such were the ravages of the plague, that in the space of five years little kabarda lost, at least, the twentieth part of its population. the russian government omitted no means that could stay the contagion from crossing its frontiers, and it was not until , that free intercourse with the caucasus was again permitted. multitude of visitors appeared in the following year, the ordinary tents were not sufficient for their accommodation, and it was necessary to make huts for them with branches of trees; several persons even made their abode in their carriages, and under felt and canvass awnings. the want of new wooden bath-rooms was also felt, and several little chambers were erected round the springs. in , the concourse of visitors was so great that the kalmucks of the caspian were ordered to supply them with felt tents. but even these were found insufficient in the following summer, and by this time the profits realised by the soldiers, who let out their quarters, having attracted the attention of some individuals, considerable stone edifices were soon erected. in , the celebrated greek, warvatzi, built new bath-rooms at his own expense, and laid down two roads, one for pedestrians, the other for carriages, both leading to the principal spring. three hundred polish prisoners were placed at his disposal for the execution of these works. thenceforth the place grew up rapidly, and under general yermoloff's administration, nothing was neglected that could render the various edifices as complete and commodious as possible. thus was gradually formed the pretty little town of piatigorsk, which now contains seven principal bathing hotels, and eleven warm sulphurous springs, the temperature of which ranges from thirty to thirty-eight degrees reaumur. the waters of kislovodsk were discovered in , during the war waged by the russians against the kabardians, and in , they were numerously frequented under the protection of the imperial troops. the danger was great, however, for attacks were often made by the enemy, who even made repeated attempts to choke up the spring, or divert the waters. it was not until a fort was built in , that the waters could be visited with some degree of security. the first houses for the reception of invalids were built in ; before that time they resided in tents. a magnificent restaurant was built in , and a handsome alley of lindens was planted from the spring to the cataract, the picturesque appearance of which we so much admired. the ferruginous waters, near the site of the scotch colony, were not made use of until long after the others, in consequence of their remote position, and the woods by which they were surrounded. it was not before , that yermoloff rendered them easy of access, and they began to be regularly frequented by invalids. chapter xxx. situation of the russians as to the caucasus. history of their acquisition of the trans-caucasian provinces--general topography of the caucasus--armed line of the kouban and the terek--blockade of the coasts--character and usages of the mountaineers--anecdote--visit to a circassian prince. among the various asiatic nations which force and diplomacy are striving to subject to the muscovite sceptre, there is one against which the whole might of russia has hitherto been put forth in vain. the warlike tribes of the caucasus have victoriously maintained their national independence; and in thus separating the trans-caucasian provinces from the rest of the empire, they have protected persia and asiatic turkey, and postponed indefinitely all thoughts of a russian invasion of india. the cabinets of europe have generally overlooked the importance of the caucasus, and the part which its tribes are destined to play soon or late in eastern questions. great britain alone, prompted by her commercial instinct and her restless jealousy, protested for a time against the encroaching career of the tzars; but the singular manifestation of the _vixen_ produced no slackening of the operations of russia. the war has now been going on for sixteen years, yet few exact notions of its character and details are as yet possessed by europe. let us endeavour to complete as far as possible what we already know respecting the situation of the russians in the caucasus, and to see what may be the general results, political and commercial, of the occupation or independence of that region. we know that one of peter the great's most cherished schemes, the dream of his whole life, was to re-establish the trade of the east on its old footing, and to secure to himself a port on the black sea, in order to make it the link between the two continents. the genius of that sovereign must surely have been most enterprising to conceive such a project, at a time when its realisation required that the southern frontiers of the empire should first be pushed forward from to leagues, as they have since been. peter began his new political career by the taking of azof and the foundation of the port of taganrok in . the fatal campaign of the pruth retarded the accomplishment of his designs; but when circumstances allowed him to return to them, he began again to pursue them in the direction of persia and the caspian. the restitution of azof, and the destruction of taganrok, stipulated in the treaty of the pruth, thus became the primary cause of the russian expeditions against the trans-caucasian provinces. at this period persia was suffering all the disorders of anarchy. the turks had possessed themselves of all its western provinces up to the foot of the caucasus; whilst the mountaineers, availing themselves of the distracted state of the country, made bloody inroads upon georgia and the adjacent regions. the lesghis, now one of the most formidable tribes of the caucasus, ravaged the plains of shirvan, in , reduced the towns and villages to ashes, and massacred, according to russian writers, merchants, subjects of the empire, in the town of shamaki. these acts of violence afforded peter the great an opportunity which he did not let slip. under the pretence of punishing the lesghis, and protecting the shah of persia against them, he prepared to make an armed intervention in the trans-caucasian provinces. a formidable expedition was fitted out. a flotilla, constructed at casan, arrived at the mouths of the volga, and on the th of may, , the emperor began his march at the head of , infantry, dragoons, and , cossacks and kalmucks. the transports coasted the caspian, whilst the army marched by the daghestan route, the great highway successively followed by the nations of the north and the south in their invasions. thus it was that the russians entered the caucasus, and the valleys of those inaccessible mountains resounded, for the first time, to the war music of the muscovite. the occupation of ghilan and derbent, and the siege of bakou were the chief events of this campaign. turkey, dismayed at the influence russia was about to acquire in the east, was ready to take up arms; but austria, taking the initiative in europe, declared for the policy of the tzar, and vigorously resisted the hostile tendencies of the porte. russia was thus enabled to secure, not only daghestan and ghilan, but also the surrender of those provinces in which her armies had never set foot. in the midst of these events, peter died when on the eve of consolidating his conquests, and before he had completed his negotiations with persia and turkey. his grand commercial ideas were abandoned after his death; the policy of the empire was directed solely towards territorial acquisition, and the tzars only obeyed the strong impulse, that, as if by some decree of fate, urges their subjects towards the south. thenceforth the trans-caucasian provinces were considered only a point gained for intervention in the affairs of persia and turkey, and for ulterior conquests in the direction of central asia. the rise of the celebrated nadir shah, who possessed himself of all the ancient dominions of persia, for a while changed the face of things. russia, crippled in her finances, withdrew her troops, gave up her pretensions to the countries beyond the caucasus, acknowledged the independence of the two kabardas by the treaty of belgrade, and even engaged no longer to keep a fleet on the sea of azof. a religious mission sent to the ossetans, who occupy the celebrated defiles of dariel, was the only event in the reign of elizabeth, that regarded the regions we are considering. hardly any conversions were effected, but the ossetans, to a certain extent, acknowledged the supremacy of russia: this satisfied the real purpose of the mission, for the first stone was thereby laid on the line which was to become the great channel of communication between russia and her asiatic provinces. schemes of conquest in the direction of persia were resumed with vigour under catherine ii., and were carried out with more regularity. the first thing aimed at was to protect the south of the empire against the inroads of the caucasians, and to this end the armed line of the kouban and the terek was organised and finished in . it then numbered sixteen principal forts, and a great number of lesser ones and redoubts. numerous military colonies of cossacks, were next settled on the banks of the two rivers for the protection of the frontiers. while these preparations were in hand, war broke out with turkey. victorious both by sea and land, catherine signed, in , the memorable treaty of koutchouk kainardji, which secured to her the free navigation of the black sea, the passage of the dardanelles, the entry of the dniepr, and, moreover, conceded to her in the caucasus, the sovereignty over both kabardas. peace being thus concluded, catherine's first act was to send a pacific mission to explore the country of the ossetans. the old negotiations were skilfully renewed, and a free passage through the defiles was obtained with the consent of that people. in , an imperial squadron once more appeared in the caspian, and endeavoured, but ineffectually, to make some military settlements on the persian coasts. this expedition limited itself to consolidating the moral influence of russia, and exciting, among the various tribes and nations of those regions, dissensions which afterwards afforded her a pretext for direct intervention. the christian princes of georgia, and the adjacent principalities, were the first to undergo the consequences of the russian policy. seduced by gold and presents, and doubtless also, wearied by the continual troubles that desolated their country, they gradually fell off from persia and turkey and accepted the protection of catherine. the passes of the caucasus were now free to russia; she lost no time in making them practicable for an army, and so she was at last in a condition to realise in part the vast plans of the founder of her power. at a later period, in , russia and turkey were again in arms, and the shore of the caspian became for the first time a centre of military operations. anapa, which the turks had built for the protection of their trade with the mountaineers, after an unsuccessful assault, was taken by storm in . soudjouk kaleh shared the same fate, but the circassians blew up its fortifications before they retired. struck by these conspicuous successes, the several states of europe departed from the favourable policy with which they had previously treated the views of russia, and the empress thought herself fortunate to conclude the treaty of jassy in , by which she advanced her frontiers to the dniestr, and obtained the sovereignties of georgia and the neighbouring countries. but turkey had anapa and soudjouk kaleh restored to her, upon her engaging to suppress the incursions of the tribes dwelling on the left of the kouban. aga mahomed khan marched against georgia in , to punish it for having accepted the protectorate of russia. tiflis was sacked, and given up to fire and sword. on hearing of this bloody invasion catherine ii. immediately declared war against persia, and her armies were already in occupation of bakou, and a large portion of the caspian shores, when she was succeeded by her son paul i., who ordered all the recent conquests to be abandoned. nevertheless, this strange beginning did not hinder the eccentric monarch from doing four years afterwards for georgia what catherine had done for the crimea. under pretext of putting an end to intestine discord, georgia was united to russia by an imperial ukase. shortly after the accession of alexander, mingrelia shared the fate of georgia; the conquests beyond the caucasus were then regularised, and tiflis became the centre of an exclusive muscovite administration, civil and military. the immediate contact of russia with persia soon led to a rupture between these two powers. in , hostilities began with turkey also, and the campaign was marked like that of by the taking of anapa and soudjouk kaleh, and the establishment of the russians on the shores of circassia. the unfortunate contest which then ensued between napoleon and alexander, and the direct intervention of england, put an end to the war, and brought about the signature of two treaties. that of bucharest stipulated the reddition of anapa and soudjouk kaleh; but russia acquired bessarabia and the left bank of the danube; and koutousofs , men marched against napoleon. the treaty of gulistan, in , gave to the empire, among other countries, daghestan, georgia, imeritia, mingrelia, the province of bakou, karabaugh, and shirvan. this latter treaty was no sooner ratified than endless discussions arose respecting the determination of the frontiers. war was renewed, and ended only in by the treaty of turkmantchai, which conceded to russia the fine countries of erivan and naktchivan, advanced her frontiers to the banks of the araxus, and rendered her mistress of all the passes of persia. it was during these latter wars that the people of the caucasus began to be seriously uneasy about the designs of russia. the special protection accorded to the christian populations, the successive downfall of the principal chiefs of the country, and the introduction of the russian administration, with its abuses and arbitrary proceedings, excited violent commotions in the caucasian provinces, and the mountaineers naturally took part in every coalition formed against the common enemy. the armed line of the kouban and the terek was often attacked, and many a cossack post was massacred. the lesghis, the tchetchenzes, and the circassians distinguished themselves especially by their pertinacity and daring. thenceforth russia might conceive some idea of the contest she would have to sustain on the confines of asia. we now approach the period when russia, at last relieved from all her quarrels with persia and turkey, definitively acquired anapa and soudjouk kaleh by the treaty of adrianople, and directed all her efforts against the mountaineers of the caucasus. but as now the war assumed a totally different character, it will be necessary to a full understanding of it that we should first glance at the topography of the country, and sketch the respective positions of the mountaineers and their foes. the chain of the caucasus exhibits a peculiar conformation, altogether different from that of any of the european chains. the alps, the pyrenees, and the carpathians, are accessible only by the valleys, and in these the inhabitants of the country find their subsistence, and agriculture develops its wealth. the contrary is the case in the caucasus. from the fortress of anapa on the black sea, all along to the caspian, the northern slope presents only immense inclined plains, rising in terraces to a height of or yards above the sea level. these plains, rent on all directions by deep and narrow valleys and vertical clefts, often form real steppes, and possess on their loftiest heights rich pastures, where the inhabitants, secure from all attack, find fresh grass for their cattle in the sultriest days of summer. the valleys on the other hand are frightful abysses, the steep sides of which are clothed with brambles, while the bottoms are filled with rapid torrents foaming over beds of rocks and stones. such is the singular spectacle generally presented by the northern slope of the caucasus. this brief description may give an idea of the difficulties to be encountered by an invading army. obliged to occupy the heights, it is incessantly checked in its march by impassable ravines, which do not allow of the employment of cavalry, and for the most part prevent the passage of artillery. the ordinary tactics of the mountaineers is to fall back before the enemy, until the nature of the ground or the want of supplies obliges the latter to begin a retrograde movement. then it is that they attack the invaders, and, entrenched in their forests behind impregnable rocks, they inflict the most terrible carnage on them with little danger to themselves. on the south the character of the caucasian chain is different. from anapa to gagra, along the shores of the black sea, we observe a secondary chain composed of schistous mountains, seldom exceeding yards in height. but the nature of their soil, and of their rocks, would be enough to render them almost impracticable for european armies, even were they not covered with impenetrable forests. the inhabitants of this region, who are called tcherkesses or circassians, by the russians, are entirely independent, and constitute one of the most warlike peoples of the caucasus. the great chain begins in reality at gagra, but the mountains recede from the shore, and nothing is to be seen along the coast as far as mingrelia but secondary hills, commanded by immense crags, that completely cut off all approach to the central part of the caucasus. this region, so feebly defended by its topographical conformation, is abkhasia, the inhabitants of which have been forced to submit to russia. to the north and on the northern slope, westward of the military road from mosdok to tiflis, dwell a considerable number of tribes, some of them ruled by a sort of feudal system, others constituted into little republics. those of the west, dependent on circassia and abadza, are in continual war with the empire, whilst the nogais, who inhabit the plains on the left bank of the kouma, and the tribes of the great kabarda, own the sovereignty of the tzar; but their wavering and dubious submission cannot be relied on. in the centre, at the foot of the elbrouz, dwell the souanethes, an unsubdued people, and near them, occupying both sides of the pass of dariel, are the ingouches and ossetans, exceptional tribes, essentially different from the aboriginal peoples. finally, we have eastward of the great tiflis road, near the terek, little kabarda, and the country of the koumicks, for the present subjugated; and then those indomitable tribes, the lesghis and tchetchenzes, of whom shamihl is the abd el kader, and who extend over the two slopes of the caucasus to the vicinity of the caspian. in reality, the kouban and the terek, that rise from the central chain, and fall, the one into the black sea, the other into the caspian, may be considered as the northern political limits of independent caucasus. it is along those two rivers that russia has formed her armed line, defended by cossacks, and detachments from the regular army. the russians have indeed penetrated those northern frontiers at sundry points, and have planted some forts within the country of the lesghis and tchetchenzes. but these lonely posts, in which a few unhappy garrisons are surrounded on all sides, and generally without a chance of escape, cannot be regarded as a real occupation of the soil on which they stand. they are in fact only so many piquets, whose business is only to watch more closely the movements of the mountaineers. in the south, from anapa to gagra, along the black sea, the imperial possessions are limited to a few detached forts, completely isolated, and deprived of all means of communication by land. a rigorous blockade has been established on this coast; but the circassians, as intrepid in their frail barks as among their mountains, often pass by night through the russian line of vessels, and reach trebisond and constantinople. elsewhere, from mingrelia to the caspian, the frontiers are less precisely defined, and generally run parallel with the great chain of the caucasus. thus limited, the caucasus, including the territory occupied by the subject tribes, presents a surface of scarcely leagues; and it is in this narrow region that a virgin and chivalric nation, amounting at most to , , of souls, proudly upholds its independence against the might of the russian empire, and has for twenty years sustained one of the most obstinate struggles known to modern history. the russian line of the kouban, which is exactly similar to that of the terek, is defended by the cossacks of the black sea, the poor remains of the famous zaporogues, whom catherine ii. subdued with so much difficulty, and whom she colonised at the foot of the caucasus, as a bulwark against the incursions of the mountaineers. the line consists of small forts and watch stations; the latter are merely a kind of sentry box raised on four posts, about fifty feet from the ground. two cossacks keep watch in them day and night. on the least movement of the enemy in the vast plain of reeds that fringes both banks of the river, a beacon fire is kindled on the top of the watch box. if the danger becomes more pressing, an enormous torch of straw and tar is set fire to. the signal is repeated from post to post, the whole line springs to arms, and or men are instantly assembled on the point threatened. these posts, composed generally of a dozen men, are very close to each other, particularly in the most dangerous places. small forts have been erected at intervals with earthworks, and a few pieces of cannon; they contain each from to men. but notwithstanding all the vigilance of the cossacks, often aided by the troops of the line, the mountaineers not unfrequently cross the frontier and carry their incursions, which are always marked with massacre and pillage, into the adjacent provinces. these are bloody but justifiable reprisals. in a body of fifty horsemen entered the country of the cossacks, and proceeded to a distance of leagues, to plunder the german colony of madjar and the important village of vladimirofka, on the kouma, and what is most remarkable, they got back to their mountains without being interrupted. the same year kisliar on the caspian was sacked by the lesghis. these daring expeditions prove of themselves how insufficient is the armed line of the caucasus, and to what dangers that part of southern russia is exposed. the line of forts along the black sea is quite as weak, and the circassians there are quite as daring. they carry off the russian soldiers from beneath the fire of their redoubts, and come up to the very foot of their walls to insult the garrison. at the time i was exploring the mouths of the kouban, a hostile chief had the audacity to appear one day before the gates of anapa. he did all he could to irritate the russians, and abusing them as cowards and woman-hearted, he defied them to single combat. exasperated by his invectives, the commandant ordered that he should be fired on with grape. the horse of the mountaineer reared and threw off his rider, who, without letting go the bridle, instantly mounted again, and, advancing still nearer to the walls, discharged his pistol almost at point blank distance at the soldiers, and galloped off to the mountains. as for the blockade by sea, the imperial squadron is not expert enough to render it really effectual. it is only a few armed boats, manned by cossacks, that give the circassians any serious uneasiness. these cossacks, like those of the black sea, are descended from the zaporogues. previously to the last war with turkey they were settled on the right bank of the danube, where their ancestors had taken refuge after the destruction of their setcha. during the campaigns of - , pains were taken to revive their national feelings, they were brought again by fair means or by force under the imperial sway, and were then settled in the forts along the caucasian shore, the keeping of which was committed to their charge. courageous, enterprising, and worthy rivals of their foes, they wage a most active war against the skiffs of the mountaineers in their boats, which carry crews of fifty or sixty men. the war not having permitted us to visit the independent tribes, and investigate their moral and political condition for ourselves, we shall not enter into long details respecting the manners and institutions of the circassians, but content ourselves with pointing out the principal traits of their character, and such of their peculiarities as may have most influence upon their relations with russians.[ ] of all the peoples of the caucasus, none more fully realise than the circassians those heroic qualities with which imagination delights to invest the tribes of these mountains. courage, intelligence, and remarkable beauty, have been liberally bestowed on them by nature; and what i admired above all in their character is a calm, noble dignity that never forsakes them, and which they unite with the most chivalric feelings and the most ardent passion for national liberty. i remember that during my stay at ekaterinodar, the capital of the cossacks of the black sea, being seated one morning in front of a merchant's house in the company of several russian officers, i saw a very ill-dressed circassian come up, who appeared to belong to the lowest class. he stopped before the shop, and while he was cheapening some articles, we examined his sabre. i saw distinctly on it the latin inscription, _anno domini_, , and the blade appeared to me to be of superior temper; the russians were of a different opinion, for they handed the weapon back to the circassian with disdainful indifference. the circassian took it without uttering a word, cut off a handful of his beard with it at a stroke, as easily as though he had done it with a razor, then quietly mounted his horse and rode away, casting on the officers a look of such deep scorn as no words could describe. the circassians, evermore engaged in war, are in general all well armed. their equipment consists of a rifle, a sabre, a long dagger, which they wear in front, and a pistol stuck in their belt. their remarkably elegant costume consists of tight pantaloons, and a short tunic belted round the waist, and having cartridge pockets worked on the breast; their head-dress is a round laced cap, encircled with a black or white border of long-wooled sheep-skin. in cold or rainy weather, they wear a hood (bashlik), and wrap themselves in an impenetrable felt cloak (bourka). their horses are small, but of astonishing spirit and bottom. it has often been ascertained by the imperial garrisons that circassian marauders have got over twenty-five or even thirty leagues of ground in a night. when pursued by the russians, the mountaineers are not to be stopped by the most rapid torrents. if the horse is young, and not yet trained to this perilous kind of service, the rider gallops him up to the verge of the ravine, then covering the animal's head with his bourka, he plunges, almost always with impunity, down precipices that are sometimes from ten or fifteen yards deep. the circassians are wonderfully expert in the use of fire-arms, and of their double-edged daggers. armed only with the latter weapon, they have been known to leap their horses over the russian bayonets, stab the soldiers, and rout their squared battalions. when they are surrounded in their forts or villages, without any chance of escape, they often sacrifice their wives and children, set fire to their dwellings, and perish in the flames rather than surrender. like all orientals, they do not abandon their dead and wounded except at the last extremity, and nothing can surpass the obstinacy with which they fight to carry them off from the enemy. it was to this fact i owed my escape from one of the greatest dangers i ever encountered. in the month of april, , i explored the military line of the kouban. on my departure from stavropol, the governor strongly insisted on giving me an escort; but i refused it, for fear of encumbering my movements, and resolved to trust to my lucky star. it was the season of flood, too, in the kouban, a period in which the circassians very seldom cross it. i accepted, however, as a guide, an old cossack, who had seen more than five-and-twenty years' fighting, and was all over scars, in short, a genuine descendant of the zaporogues. this man, my interpreter, and a postillion, whom we were to change at each station, formed my whole suite. we were all armed, though there is not much use in such a precaution in a country where one is always attacked either unawares, so that he cannot defend himself, or by superior forces against which all resistance is but a danger the more. but what of that? there was something imposing and flattering to one's pride in these martial accoutrements. a tiflis dagger was stuck in my belt, a heavy rifle thumped against my loins, and my holsters contained an excellent pair of st. etienne pistols. my cossack was armed with two pistols, a rifle, a circassian sabre, and a lance. as for my interpreter, an italian, he was as brave as a calabrian bandit, and what prized above all in him was an imperturbable coolness in the most critical positions, and a blind obedience to my orders. for five days we pursued our way pleasantly along the kouban, without thinking of the danger of our position. the country, broken up by beautiful hills, was covered with rich vegetation. the muddy waters of the kouban flowed on our left, and beyond the river we saw distinctly the first ranges of the caucasus. we could even discern the smoke of the circassian aouls rising up amidst the forests. on the evening of the fifth day we arrived at a little fort, where we passed the night. the weather next morning was cold and rainy, and every thing gave token of an unpleasant day. the country before us was quite unlike that we were leaving behind. the road wound tortuously over an immense plain between marshes and quagmires, that often rendered it all but impossible to advance. our morning ride was therefore a dull and silent one. the cossack had no tales to tell of his warlike feats; he was in bad humour, and never opened his lips except to rap out one of those thundering oaths in which the russians often indulge. a thin rain beat in our faces; our tired horses slid at every step on the greasy clay soil, and we rode in single file, muffled up in our bourkas and bashliks. towards noon, the weather cleared up, the road became less difficult, and towards evening we were but an hour and a half from the last fort on that side of ekaterinodar. we were then proceeding slowly, without any thought of danger, and i paid no heed to the cossack, who had halted some distance behind. but our quick-eared guide had heard the sound of hoofs, and in a few seconds he rode up at full speed, shouting with all his might, "the tcherkesses! the tcherkesses!" looking round we saw four mountaineers coming over a hill not far from the road. my plan was instantly formed. the state of our horses rendered any attempt at flight entirely useless; we were still far from the fortress, and, once overtaken, we could not avoid a fight, the chances of which were all against us. the cossack alone had a sabre, and when once we had discharged our fire-arms, it would be all over with us. but i knew that the circassians never abandoned their dead and wounded, and it was on this i founded our hope of safety. my orders were quickly given, and we continued to advance at a walk, riding abreast, but sufficiently wide apart to leave each man's movements free. not a word was uttered by any of us. i had incurred many dangers in the course of my travels, but i had never been in a situation of more breathless anxiety. in less than ten minutes we distinctly heard the galloping of the mountaineers, and immediately afterwards their balls whizzed past us. my bourka was slightly touched, and the shaft of the cossack's lance was cut in two. the critical moment was come; i gave the word, and we instantly wheeled round, and discharged our pistols at arm's length at our assailants: two of them fell. "away now, and ride for your lives," i shouted, "the circassians will not pursue us." our horses, which had recovered their wind, and were probably inspirited by the smell of powder, carried us along at a sweeping pace, and never stopped until we were within sight of the fortress. exactly what i had foreseen had happened. on the morning after that memorable day the garrison turned out and scoured the country, and i accompanied them to the scene of action. there were copious marks of blood on the sand, and among the sedges on the side of the road we found a shaska, or circassian sabre, which had been dropped no doubt by the enemy. the commanding officer presented it to me, and i have kept it ever since as a remembrance of my perilous interview with the mountaineers. it bears the mark of a ball. it would be difficult to give any precise idea respecting the religious principles of the various nations of the caucasus. the charge of idolatry has been alleged against several of them, but we think without any good grounds. paganism, christianity, and mohammedanism, have by turns found access among them, and the result has been an anomalous medley of no clearly defined doctrines with the most superstitious practices of their early obsolete creeds. the lesghis and the eastern tribes alone are really mohammedans. as for the ossetans, circassians, kabardians, and other western tribes, they seem to profess a pure deism, mingled with some christian and mussulman notions. it is thought that christianity was introduced among these people by the celebrated thamar, queen of georgia, who reigned in the latter part of the twelfth century; but it is much more probable that this was done by the greek colonies of the lower empire, and afterwards by those of the republic of genoa in the crimea. the tcherkesses to this day entertain a profound reverence for the crosses and old churches of their country, to which they make frequent pilgrimages, and yearly offerings and sacrifices. it seems, too, that the greek mythology has left numerous traces in circassia; the story of saturn for instance, that of the titans endeavouring to scale heaven, and several others, are found among many of the tribes. a very marked characteristic of the circassians is a total absence of religious fanaticism. pretenders to divine inspiration have always been repulsed by them, and most of them have paid with their lives for their attempts at proselytism. this is not the case on the caspian side of the mountains, where shamihl's power is in a great measure based on his religious influence over the tribes. when two nations are at war, it usually happens that the one is calumniated by the other, and the stronger seeks an apology for its own ambition in blackening the character of its antagonist. thus the russians, wishing to make the inhabitants of the caucasus appear as savages, against whom every means of extermination is allowable, relate the most absurd tales of the ferocious tortures inflicted by them on their prisoners. but there is no truth in all this. i have often met military men who had been prisoners in the mountains, and they unanimously testified to the good treatment they had received. the circassians deal harshly only with those who resist, or who have made several attempts to escape; but in those cases their measures are fully justified by the fear lest the fugitives should convey important topographical information to the russians. as for the story of the chopped horsehair inserted under the skin of the soles of the feet to hinder the escape of captives, it has been strangely exaggerated by some travellers. i never could hear of more than one prisoner of war who had been thus treated, and this was an army surgeon with whom i had an opportunity of conversing. he had not been previously ill-treated in any way by the mountaineers; but, distracted with the desire for freedom, he had made three attempts to escape, and it was not until the third that the tcherkesses had recourse to the terrible expedient of the horsehair. during our stay at the waters of the caucasus, i saw a young russian woman who had recently been rescued by general grabe's detachment. shortly after our arrival she fled, and returned to the mountains. this fact speaks at least in favour of the gallantry of the circassians. indeed, there is no one in the country but well knows the deep respect they profess for the sex. it would be very difficult, if not impossible, to mention any case in which russian female prisoners have been maltreated by them. the circassians have been accustomed, from time immemorial, to make prisoners of all foreigners who land on their shores without any special warrant or recommendation. this custom has been denounced and censured in every possible way; yet it is not so barbarous as has been supposed. encompassed by enemies, exposed to incessant attacks, and relying for their defence chiefly on the nature of their country, the jealous care of their independence has naturally compelled the mountaineers to become suspicious, and not to allow any traveller to penetrate their retreats. what proves that this prohibitive measure is by no means the result of a savage temper is, that it is enough to pronounce the name of a chief, no matter who, to be welcomed and treated everywhere with unbounded hospitality. reassured by this slender evidence of good faith, the mountaineers lay aside their distrust, and think only how they may do honour to the guest of one of their princes. but another and still graver charge still hangs over the circassians, namely, their slave dealing, which has so often provoked the generous indignation of the philanthropists of europe, and for the abolition of which russia has been extolled by all journalists. we are certainly far from approving of that hateful trade, in which human beings are bought and sold as merchandise; but we are bound in justice to the people of asia to remark, that there is a wide difference between oriental slavery and that which exists in russia, in the french colonies, and in america. in the east, slavery becomes in fact a virtual adoption, which has generally a favourable effect both on the moral and the physical weal of the individual. it is a condition by no means implying any sort of degradation, nor has there ever existed between it and the class of freemen that line of demarcation, beset by pride and prejudice, which is found everywhere else. it would be easy to mention the names of many high dignitaries of turkey who were originally slaves; indeed, it would be difficult to name one young man of the caucasus, sold to the turks, who did not rise to more or less distinction. as for the women, large cargoes of whom still arrive in the bosphorus in spite of the russian blockade, they are far from bewailing their lot; on the contrary, they think themselves very fortunate in being able to set out for constantinople, which offers them a prospect of every thing that can fascinate the imagination of a girl of the east. all this, of course, pre-supposes the absence of those family affections to which we attach so much value; but it must not be forgotten that the tribes of the caucasus cannot be fairly or soundly judged by the standard of our european notions, but that we must make due allowance for their social state, their manners, and traditions. the sale of women in circassia is obviously but a substitute and an equivalent for the indispensable preliminaries that elsewhere precede every marriage in the east; with this difference alone, that in the caucasus, on account of its remoteness, it is an agent who undertakes the pecuniary part of the transaction, and acts as the medium between the girl's relations and him whose lawful wife she is in most cases to become. the parents, it is true, part with their children, and give them up to strangers almost always unknown to them; but they do not abandon them for all that. they keep up a frequent correspondence with them, and the russians never capture a single circassian boat in which there are not men and women going to or returning from constantinople merely to see their children. no one who has been in the caucasus can be ignorant of the fact that all the families, not excepting even those of high rank, esteem it a great honour to have their children placed out in turkey. it is to all these relations and alliances, as i may say, between the circassians and the turks that the latter owe the great moral influence they still exercise over the tribes of the caucasus. the name of turk is always the best recommendation among the mountaineers, and there is no sort of respectful consideration but is evinced towards those who have returned home after passing some years of servitude in turkey. after all, the russians themselves think on this subject precisely as we do, and were it not for potent political considerations, they would not by any means offer impediment to the caucasian slave-trade. this is proved most manifestly by the proposal made by a russian general in , to regulate and ratify this traffic, and carry it on for the benefit of russia, by granting the tzar's subjects the exclusive privilege of purchasing circassian slaves. the scheme was abortive, and could not have been otherwise, for it is a monstrous absurdity to compare russian slavery with that which prevails in constantinople. nothing proves more strongly how different are the real sentiments of the circassians from those imputed to them, than the indignation with which they regard slavery, such as prevails in russia. i will here relate an anecdote which i doubt not will appear strange to many persons; but i can guarantee its authenticity, since the fact occurred under my own eyes. a detachment of mountaineers, destined to form a guard of honour for paskewitch, passed through rostof on the don, in . the sultry season was then at its height, and two of the circassians, going to bathe, laid their clothes in the boat belonging to the custom-house. there was certainly nothing very reprehensible in this; but the _employés_ of the customs thought otherwise, threw the men's clothes into the river, and assaulted them with sticks. immediately there was a tremendous uproar; all the mountaineers flocked to the spot, and threatened to set fire to the town, if the amplest satisfaction were not given to their comrades. the inhabitants were seized with alarm, and the director of the customs went in person to the commander of the circassians, to beseech him not to put his threats in execution; and he backed his entreaties with the offer of a round sum of money for the officer and his men. "money!" retorted the indignant chieftain; "money! it is good for base-souled, venal russians! it is good for you, who sell men, women, and children like vile cattle; but among our people, the honour of a man made in the image of god is not bought and sold. let your men kneel down before my soldiers, and beg their pardon; that is the only reparation we insist on." the chief's demand was complied with, and the peace of the town was immediately restored. the words we have reported are authentic; they prove that the tcherkesses do not look on the sale of their children as a traffic, and that in the actual state of their national civilisation, that sale cannot be in anywise considered as incompatible with family affections, and the sentiments of honour and humanity. the circassian women have been celebrated by so many writers, and their beauty has been made the theme of so many charming descriptions, that we may be allowed to say a few words about them. unfortunately we are constrained to avow, that the reputation of their charms appears to us greatly exaggerated, and that in person they are much less remarkable than the men. it is true we have not been able to visit any of the great centres of the population: we have not been among the independent tribes; but we have been in several aouls on the banks of the kouban, and been entertained in a princely family; but nowhere could we see any of those perfect beauties of whom travellers make such frequent mention. the only thing that really struck us in these mountain girls was the elegance of their shape, and the inimitable grace of their bearing. a circassian woman is never awkward. dressed in rags or in brocade, she never fails to assume spontaneously the most noble and picturesque attitudes. in this respect she is incontestably superior to the highest efforts of fascination which parisian art can achieve. the great celebrity of the women of the caucasus appears to have been derived from the bazaars of constantinople, where the turks, who are great admirers of their charms, still inquire after them with extreme avidity. but as their notions of beauty are quite different from ours, and relate chiefly to plumpness, and the shape of the feet, it is not at all surprising that the opinions of the turks have misled travellers. but though the circassian belles do not completely realise the ideal type dreamed of by europeans, we are far from denying the brilliant qualities with which nature has evidently endowed them. they are engaging, gracious, and affable towards the stranger, and we can well conceive that their charming hospitality has won for them many an ardent admirer. apropos of the conjugal and domestic habits of the circassians; i will describe an excursion i made along the military line of the north, eighteen months after my journey to the caspian sea. during my stay at ekaterinodar, the capital of the country of the black sea cossacks, i heard a great deal about a tcherkess prince, allied to russia, and established on the right bank of the kouban, a dozen versts from the town. i therefore gladly accepted the proposal made to me by the attaman zavadofsky to visit the chief, under the escort of an officer and two soldiers. baron kloch, of whom i have already spoken, accompanied me. we mounted our horses, armed to the teeth, according to the invariable custom of the country, and in three hours we alighted in the middle of the aoul. we were immediately surrounded by a crowd of persons whose looks had nothing in them of welcome; but when they were informed that we were not russians, but foreigners, and that we were come merely to request a few hours' hospitality of their master, their sour looks were changed for an expression of the frankest cordiality, and they hastened to conduct us to the prince's dwelling. it was a miserable thatched mud cabin, in front of which we found the noble tcherkess, lying on a mat, in his shirt, and barefooted. he received us in the kindest manner, and after complimenting us on our arrival, he proceeded to make his toilette. he sent for his most elegant garments and his most stylish leg-gear, girded on his weapons, which he took care to make us admire, and then led us into the cabin, which served as his abode during the day. the interior was as naked and unfurnished as it could well be. a divan covered with reed matting, a few vessels, and a saddle, were the only objects visible. after we had rested a few moments, the prince begged us to pay a visit to his wife and daughter, who had been apprised of our arrival, and were extremely desirous to see us. these ladies occupied a hut of their own, consisting, like the prince's, of but one room. they rose as we entered, and saluted us very gracefully; then motioning us to be seated, the mother sat down in the turkish fashion on her divan, whilst her daughter came and leaned gracefully against the sofa on which we had taken our places. when the ceremony of reception was over, we remarked with surprise that the prince had not crossed the threshold, but merely put his head in at the door to answer our questions and talk with his wife. our cossack officer explained the meaning of this singular conduct, telling us that a circassian husband cannot, without detriment to his honour, enter his wife's apartment during the day. this rule is rigorously observed in all families that make any pretensions to distinction. the princess's apartments had a little more air of comfort than her husband's. we found in it two large divans with silk cushions embroidered with gold and silver, carpets of painted felt, several trunks and a very pretty work-basket. a little russian mirror, and the chief's armorial trophies, formed the ornaments of the walls. but the floor was not boarded, the walls were rough plastered, and two little holes, furnished with shutters, barely served to let a little air into the interior. the princess, who seemed about five-and-thirty or forty, was not fitted to support the reputation of her countrywomen, and we were by no means dazzled by her charms. her dress alone attracted our attention. under a brocaded pelisse with short sleeves, and laced on the seams, she wore a silk chemise, open much lower down than decency could approve. a velvet cap trimmed with silver, smooth plaits of hair, cut heart-shape on the forehead, a white veil fastened on the top of the head, and crossing over the bosom, and lastly, a red shawl thrown carelessly over her lap, completed her toilette. as for her daughter, we thought her charming: she was dressed in a white robe, and a red kazavek confined round the waist; she had delicate features, a dazzlingly fair complexion, and her black hair escaped in a profusion of tresses from beneath her cap. the affability of the two ladies exceeded our expectations. they asked us a multitude of questions about our journey, our country, and our occupations. our european costume interested them exceedingly: our straw hats above all excited their especial wonder. and yet there was something cold and impassive in their whole demeanour. it was not until a long curtain falling by accident shut out the princess from our sight that they condescended to smile. after conversing for a little while, we asked permission of the princess to take her likeness, and to sketch the interior of her dwelling, to which she made no objection. when we had made our drawings, a collation was set before us, consisting of fruits and small cheese-cakes, to which, for my part, i did not do much honour. in the evening we took our leave, and on coming out of the hut, we found all the inhabitants of the aoul assembled, their faces beaming with the most sincere good will, and every man was eager to shake hands with us before our departure. a numerous body volunteered to accompany us, and the prince himself mounted and rode with us half-way to ekaterinodar, where we embraced like old acquaintances. the tcherkess chief turned back to his aoul, and it was not without a feeling of regret that we spurred our horses in the direction of the capital of the black sea cossacks. footnotes: [ ] for fuller details we refer our readers to the travels of m. taitbout de marigny and of the english agent bell, and to the works recently published by mm. fonton and dubois. there exists also another narrative by mr. spencer, which has had the honour of a long analysis in the _revue des deux mondes_; but we know most positively that the honourable gentleman only made a military promenade along the coasts of the black sea, in company with count woronzof, and that he never undertook that perilous excursion into circassia, with which he has filled a whole volume. chapter xxxi. retrospective view of the war in the caucasus--vital importance of the caucasus to russia--designs on india, central asia, bokhara, khiva, &c.--russian and english commerce in persia. the treaty of adrianople was in a manner the opening of a new era in the relations of russia with the mountaineers; for it was by virtue of that treaty that the present tzar, already master of anapa and soudjouk kaleh, pretended to the sovereignty of circassia and of the whole seaboard of the black sea. true to the invariable principles of its foreign policy, the government at first employed means of corruption, and strove to seduce the various chiefs of the country by pensions, decorations, and military appointments. but the mountaineers, who had the example of the persian provinces before their eyes, sternly rejected all the overtures of russia, and repudiated the clauses of the convention of adrianople; the political and commercial independence of their country became their rallying cry, and they would not treat on any other condition. all such ideas were totally at variance with nicholas's schemes of absolute dominion; therefore he had recourse to arms to obtain by force what he had been unable to accomplish by other means. abkhasia, situated on the eastern coast of the black sea, and easily accessible, was the first invaded. a russian force occupied the country in , under the ordinary pretence of supporting one of its princes, and putting an end to anarchy. in the same year general paskevitch, then governor-general of the caucasus, for the first time made an armed exploration of the country of the tcherkesses beyond the kouban; but he effected absolutely nothing, and his expedition only resulted in a great loss of men and stores. in the following year war broke out in daghestan with the lesghis and the tchetchenzes. the celebrated kadi moulah, giving himself out for a prophet, gathered together a considerable number of partisans; but unfortunately for him there was no unanimity among the tribes, and the princes were continually counteracting each other. kadi moulah never was able to bring more than or men together; nevertheless, he maintained the struggle with a courage worthy of a better fate, and russia knows what it cost her to put down the revolt of daghestan. as for any real progress in that part of the caucasus, the russians made none; they did no more than replace things on the old footing. daghestan soon became again more hostile than ever, and the tchetchenzes and lesghis continued in separate detachments to plunder and ravage the adjacent provinces up to the time when the ascendency of the celebrated shamihl, the worthy successor of kadi moulah, gave a fresh impulse to the warlike tribes of the mountain, and rendered them more formidable than ever. after taking possession of anapa and soudjouk kaleh, the russians thought of seizing the whole seaboard of circassia, and especially the various points suitable for the establishment of military posts. they made themselves masters of guelendchik and the important position of gagra, which commands the pass between circassia and abkhasia. the tcherkesses heroically defended their territory, but how could they have withstood the guns of the ships of war that mowed them down whilst the soldiers were landing and constructing their redoubts? the blockade of the coasts was declared in , and all foreign communication with the caucasus ostensibly intercepted. during the four following years russia suffered heavy losses; and all her successes were limited to the establishment of some small isolated forts on the sea-coast. she then increased her army, laid down the military road from the kouban to guelendchik, across the last western offshoot of the caucasus, set on foot an exploration of the enemy's whole coast, and prepared to push the war with renewed vigour. in the emperor nicholas visited the caucasus. he would see for himself the theatre of a war so disastrous for his arms, and try what impression his imperial presence could make on the mountaineers. the chiefs of the country were invited to various conferences, to which they boldly repaired on the faith of the russian parole; but instead of conciliating them by words of peace and moderation, the emperor only exasperated them by his threatening and haughty language. "do you know," said he to them, "that i have powder enough to blow up all your mountains?" during the three following years there was an incessant succession of expeditions. golovin, on the frontiers of georgia, grabe on the north, and racifsky on the circassian seaboard, left nothing untried to accomplish their master's orders. the sacrifices incurred by russia were enormous; the greater part of her fleet was destroyed by a storm, but all efforts failed against the intrepidity and tactics of the mountaineers. some new forts erected under cover of the ships were all that resulted from these disastrous campaigns. i was in the caucasus in , when lieutenant-general grabe returned from his famous expedition against shamihl. when the army marched it had numbered men, of whom, and officers, were cut off in three months. but as the general had advanced further into the country than any of his predecessors, russia sang poeans, and grabe became the hero of the day, although the imperial troops had been forced to retreat and entirely evacuate the country they had invaded. all the other expeditions were similar to this one, and achieved in reality nothing but the burning and destruction of a few villages. it is true the mountaineers are far from being victorious in all their encounters with the russians, whose artillery they cannot easily withstand; but if they are obliged to give way to numbers or to engineering, nevertheless, they remain in the end masters of the ground, and annul all the momentary advantages gained by their enemies. the year was still more fatal to the arms of nicholas. almost all the new forts on the seaboard were taken by the circassians, who bravely attacked and carried the best fortified posts without artillery. the military road from the kouban to guelendchik was intercepted, fort st. nicholas, which commanded it, was stormed and the garrison massacred. never yet had russia endured such heavy blows. the disasters were such that the official journals themselves, after many months' silence, were at last obliged to speak of them, and to try to gloss them over by publishing turgid eulogiums on the heroism of the unfortunate black sea garrisons. the following is the bulletin published in the russian _invalide_ of the th of august, :[ ] "the annals of the russian army present a multitude of glorious deeds of arms and heroic actions, the memory of which will be for ever preserved among posterity. the detached corps of the caucasus has from its special destination more frequent opportunities than the other troops to gather new laurels; but there had not yet been seen in its ranks examples of so brilliant a valour as that recently manifested by the garrisons of several campaigning fortifications erected on the unsubjugated territory of the cossacks of the eastern shores of the black sea. erected with a view to curb the brigandages of those semi-barbarous hordes, and particularly their favourite occupation, the shameful trade in slaves, these fortifications were during the spring of this year the constant objects of their attacks. in hopes to destroy the obstacles raised against them, at a period when by reason of their position, and the insurmountable difficulty of communication, the forts on the seaboard could not receive any aid from without, they united against them all their forces and all their means. and indeed three of these forts fell, but fell with a glory that won for their defenders the admiration and even the respect of their fierce enemies. the valiant efforts of the other garrisons were crowned with better success. they have all withstood the desperate and often-repeated attacks of the mountaineers, and held out unsubdued until it was possible to send them succours. "in this struggle between a handful of russian soldiers and a determined and enterprising enemy, ten and even twenty times their superiors in number, the high deeds of the garrisons of the veliaminof and michael redoubts, and the defence of forts navaguinsky and abinsky, merit particular attention. the first of these redoubts was taken by the mountaineers on the th of last february. at daybreak, taking advantage of the localities, and concealed by the morning mist, their bands, more than strong, approached the entrenchments unperceived, and rushed impetuously to the assault. repeatedly overthrown, they returned each time furiously to the charge, and after a long conflict finally remained masters of the rampart. the garrison, rejecting all proposals to surrender, continued with invincible courage a combat thenceforth without hope, preferring to find in it a glorious death; and all fell with the exception of some invalid soldiers, who were made prisoners by the mountaineers. the latter, in token of respect for the defenders of the redoubt, took home with them some of them whom there still appeared a chance of saving. the garrison of the veliaminof redoubt consisted of men of all ranks. the loss of the mountaineers amounted, in killed alone, to men. "on the morning of the nd of march, the mountaineers, to the number of more than , men, attacked the michael redoubt, the garrison of which counted but men under arms. its brave commander, second-captain lico, of the battalion no. of the cossacks of the frontier line of the black sea, having learned the intentions of the enemy, had made preparations for vigorously resisting his attempts. seeing the impossibility of receiving timely succour, he had nails prepared to spike his cannons, in case the rampart should be carried, and had a _réduit_ constructed in the interior of the redoubt, with planks, tubs, and other suitable materials. then collecting his whole garrison, officers and soldiers, he proposed to them to blow up the powder magazine, if they did not succeed in repulsing the enemy. the proposal was received with an enthusiasm which the subsequent conduct of the garrison proved to be genuine. the mountaineers were received with a most destructive fire by the artillery of the fort, and could not make themselves masters of the rampart until after an hour and half of fighting, in which they suffered considerable loss. the heroic efforts of the garrison having forced them back into the ditch, they took to flight; but the mountain horsemen, who had remained on the watch at a certain distance, fell with their sabres on the fugitives; and the latter, seeing inevitable death on either hand, returned to the assault, drove the garrison from the rampart, and forced it to retire into the _réduit_, after it had set fire to all the stores and provisions of every kind that were in the redoubt. sharp-shooting went on for half an hour; the firing then ceased, and the mountaineers were beginning to congratulate themselves on their victory, when the powder magazine blew up.[ ] the garrison perished in accomplishing this act, memorable in military annals; but with it perished all the mountaineers who were in the redoubt. the details of the defence of the veliaminof and michael redoubts have been divulged by the mountaineers themselves, and by some soldiers who have escaped from slavery among them. the services of the heroes who died thus on the field of honour, have been honoured by his majesty the emperor, in the persons of their families; whose livelihood has been insured, and whose children will be brought up at the expense of the state. these redoubts are now once more occupied by the detachment of troops operating on the eastern coasts of the black sea. "the navaguinsky fort has often been subjected to the attacks of the mountaineers; but they have always been repulsed with the same valour and steadiness. in one of these attacks, the mountaineers, availing themselves of the darkness of night, and the noise of a tempest, approached the fort without being perceived by the sentinels, surrounded it on all sides, sprang suddenly to the assault with ladders and hooks, made themselves masters of part of the rampart, and got into the fort. captain podgoursky, its brave commandant, and lieutenant jacovlev, then advanced against them with a part of the garrison. both were killed on the spot, but their death in no degree checked the ardour of the soldiers, who fell upon the enemy with the bayonet, and drove them into the ditch. the fight was maintained with the same enthusiasm on all the other points of the fortifications, and the invalids themselves voluntarily turned out from the hospital and took part in it. at daybreak, after three hours hard fighting, the fort was cleared of the enemy, who left in it a considerable number of killed and wounded. "on the th of may, the abinsky fort, situated between the kouban and the shore of the black sea, was surrounded at two in the morning by a body of mountaineers , strong, who had assembled in the vicinity, and suddenly assaulted the fort with loud shouts, and discharges from their rifles. the hail of bullets, hand-grenades, and grape-shot with which they were received did not check their ardour. full of temerity and contempt of death, they descended with marvellous promptitude and agility into the ditch, and began to scale the rampart, thus blindly seeking sure destruction. the warriors, clad in coats of mail, penetrated repeatedly into the entrenchment, but were each time killed or driven back. at last, in spite of all the efforts of the garrison, a numerous party found their way into the interior of a bastion, and flung themselves with flags unfurled into the interior of the fort. colonel vecelofsky, the commandant, retaining all his presence of mind at this critical moment, charged the enemy at the bayonet point, with a reserve he had kept, of men, and drove them out of the entrenchment, after capturing two of their flags. this brilliant feat checked the audacity of the assailants, and inflamed the courage of the garrison to the highest pitch. the enemy, beaten on all points, took flight, carrying off their dead, according to the custom of the asiatics. ten of their wounded remained in the hands of the garrison, who found dead in the interior of the fort and in the ditches. the number of those whom the mountaineers carried off to bury at home, was doubtless still more considerable. the loss on our side was nine killed and eighteen wounded. "at the time of the attack, the garrison of the abinsky fort consisted of a superior officer, fifteen officers, and soldiers. the numerical weakness of this force, proves of itself the extraordinary intrepidity of all comprised in it, officers and soldiers, and their unanimous resolution to defend with unswerving firmness the ramparts confided to their courage." it seems to us superfluous to offer any comment on this heroic bulletin. we shall merely observe, that the most serious losses, the destruction of the new road from the kouban, the taking of fort st. nicholas, and that of several other forts, have been entirely forgotten in the official statement, and no facts mentioned, but those which might be interpreted in favour of russia's military glory. on the eastern side of the mountain the war was fully as disastrous for the invaders. the imperial army lost petty officers and soldiers, and twenty-nine officers in the battle of valrik against the tchetchenzes. the military colonies of the terek were attacked and plundered, and when general golovin retired to his winter quarters at the end of the campaign, he had lost more than three-fourths of his men. the great kabarda did not remain an indifferent spectator of the offensive league formed by the tribes of the caucasus; and when russia, suspecting with reason the unfriendly disposition of some tribes, made an armed exploration on the banks of the laba in order to construct redoubts, and thus cut off the subjugated tribes from the others, the general found the country, wherever he advanced, but a desert. all the inhabitants had already retired to the other side of the laba to join their warlike neighbours. since that time fresh defeats have been made known through the press, and in spite of all the mystery in which the war of the caucasus is sought to be wrapt, the truth has, nevertheless, transpired. the last military operations of russia have been as unproductive as those that preceded them, and prove that no change has taken place in the belligerents respectively. thus we see that in despite of the resources of the empire, and of the indomitable obstinacy of the emperor, the position of russia in the caucasus has been quite stationary for sixty years. in considering this long series of disasters and unavailing efforts, we are naturally led to inquire what have been the causes of this want of success? we have already mentioned the topographical character of the country, and the difficulties encountered by an invading army in regions not accessible by the valleys, and we have given such details of the manners and character of the mountaineers as may enable the reader to conceive the obstinate and formidable nature of their resistance. nevertheless, seeing the absolute power of nicholas, and the intense importance he attaches to the conquest of the caucasus, it is difficult to admit that obstacles arising out of the nature of the ground and the character of the population could not have been overcome in a region so limited, if there were not other and more potent causes continually at work to impede the military operations of russia. these causes reside chiefly in the deplorable state and constitution of the imperial armies. in russia there is no distinct commissariat department under disinterested control, whether of the government or of superior officers. it is the colonel himself of each regiment who provides the rations, and as he is subject to no control, but acts really with despotic authority, both he and his contractors have the amplest possible opportunity to cheat the government and enrich themselves at the expense of the troops. there are regiments in the caucasus that bring in from , to , francs to the colonel. as for the subaltern officers, military submission on the one hand, and the scantiness of their pay on the other, make them always ready to participate in their commander's infamous speculations. what is the result of this wretched corruption? it is that, notwithstanding the high prices paid by the government, the contractors continue to send to the caucasus the most unwholesome stores, and grains almost always heated or quite spoiled; for it is only in this way they can realise sufficient profits to be able to satisfy the cupidity of their confederates, the officers. i knew several merchants of theodosia in the crimea, men of honour, who refused to have any thing to do with military supplies, because they found it impossible to make the colonels and generals accept sound articles. this official robbery is nowhere carried on in a more scandalous manner than in the caucasus. it is there regularly established, and one may conjecture the hardships and privations of the soldier from seeing the luxurious tables of the lowest officers, most of whom have but from or rubles yearly pay. certainly there are few sovereigns who take more heed than nicholas to the physical welfare of their soldiers, and we must give full credit to his generous intentions in this respect; but these are completely defeated by the corruption of his officers and civil servants, by the total want of publicity, and by that base servility which will always hinder an inferior from accusing his superior. i have been present at several military inspections made by general officers in the caucasus, but never heard the least complaint made by the soldiers; and when the general, calling them by companies round him in a circle, questioned them respecting their victuals, they all invariably replied in chorus, that they had nothing to complain of, and were as well treated as possible. their colonel's eye was upon them, and they knew what the least word of complaint would have cost them; yet they were dying by hundreds of scurvy, and other diseases engendered by unwholesome food. the government usually makes large purchases of butter in siberia for the army of the caucasus; but this butter which would be of such great utility in the military hospitals, and which costs as much as sixty-five francs the twenty kilogrammes, very seldom passes further than taganrok, where it is sold in retail, and its place supplied with the worst substitute that can be had. nor does the robbery end there. the butter fabricated in taganrok is again made matter of speculation in the caucasus, and finally not a particle reaches the sick and drooping soldiers. the other good provisions undergo nearly the same course. when i was at theodosia in , there were in the military hospital of the town , invalids, who were all dying for want of attendance and good medicine. a courland general (whom i could name) justly incensed at these abuses, sent in a strong report of them directly to the emperor; and twenty days afterwards, a superior officer, despatched by the emperor himself, arrived on the spot. but the people about the hospital were rich; they had taken their measures, and the result of this mission, which looked so threatening at first, was a report extremely satisfactory as to the zeal of the managers and the sanatory condition of the establishment. the general was severely reprimanded, almost disgraced, and the robbers continued to merit official encomiums. i did not hear that they were rewarded by the government. the most frightful mortality prevails among the troops in the caucasus; whole divisions disappear in the space of a few months, and the army is used up and wholly renewed every three or four years. it is especially in the small forts on the seaboard, where the mischiefs of bad food are increased by almost total isolation, that diseases make frightful havoc, particularly scurvy. in the spring of , the twelfth division marched to occupy the redoubts on the coasts of circassia, and its effective number was , men, quite an extraordinary circumstance. four months afterwards it was recalled to take part in the expedition at that time projected against the viceroy of egypt. when it landed at sevastopol it was reduced to men. in the same year the commander-in-chief, in visiting the forts of the seaboard, found but nine men fit for service out of that composed the garrison of soukhoum kaleh. according to official returns, the average deaths on the seaboard of circassia in and , were , in each year. is it to be wondered that with such a military administration, russia makes no progress in the caucasus? what can be expected of armies in which want of all necessaries and total disregard for the lives of men are the order of the day? the divisions and regiments in the caucasus are in a state of permanent disorganisation, and the courage and activity of the troops sink altogether under the influence of the diseases by which they are incessantly mowed down. it needs all the force of discipline, all the stoic self-denial of the soldier, and, above all, the incessant renovation of the garrisons, to hinder the russians from being driven out of all their positions. people often ask with surprise why russia does not take the field with , or even , men at once. we have already given sufficiently circumstantial details on the topography of the caucasus, to enable every one to perceive immediately how difficult it is to employ large armies in regions so inaccessible, and so wonderfully defended by nature. nor, on the other hand, must it be forgotten that the official strength of the army of the caucasus is always at least , men. its real strength, indeed, very seldom exceeds , ; but its proportion to the grand total of the imperial forces, paid as if they were at the full, still remains the same, and it is impossible, under existing circumstances, that the government should augment the number of its troops without most seriously increasing the already embarrassed condition of the finances. another consideration of still greater weight is, that the movements of large armies are attended with extreme difficulty in russia, to a degree unknown in any other country of europe. in all the discussions that are held on the subject of the war in the caucasus, the immense difficulties of the transport of men, military stores, and provisions, have never been taken into account, and people have always reasoned as if the caucasus was situated in the midst of the tzar's dominions. a glance at the map of russia will suffice to show, that those mountains lying on the most southern verge of the empire, are separated by real deserts from the great centres of the russian population, and that to repair to the banks of the kouban from the first governments where troops are recruited, they must traverse more than leagues of country inhabited by cossacks and kalmucks, in which the nature of the soil and of the inhabitants forbids any cantonment of reserves. moreover we must not forget the difficulties of the climate. the fine season barely lasts four months in russia. the roads are impassable for pedestrians in spring and autumn, and during the winter the cold is too severe, the days too short, the snow-storms often too prolonged to allow of putting regiments on the march, not to say sending them to the caucasus across the uncultivated and desert plains that stretch between the sea of azof and the caspian. the route by sea is equally impracticable. no use can be made of the caspian on account of the arid and unproductive steppes that belt it on the russian side. astrakhan, the only town situated on that part of the coast, is obliged to fetch its provisions from a distance of leagues. the black sea is, indeed, more favourably circumstanced; but it only affords communication with the forts on the circassian side; and the mountaineers always wait to make their attacks in the season of rough weather, during which navigation is usually suspended, and it is exceedingly difficult to reinforce and victual the garrisons. the tediousness and difficulty of conveying stores is the same by land. with the exception of the forts of circassia, supplied directly from the ports of odessa, theodosia, and kertch, all the garrisons of the caucasus receive their supplies from the nearly central provinces of the empire. thus the materials destined for the army of the terek and of daghestan arrive first in astrakhan, after a voyage of more than leagues down the volga; and then they are forwarded by sea for the most part to koumskaia, on the mouth of the kouma, where they are taken up by the turcomans on their little ox-carts, impressed for the service, and reach their final destination after fifteen or twenty days' travelling. the mode of proceeding is still more tedious and expensive for the implements and _matériel_ of war which arrive from siberia only once a year, during the spring floods of the volga, the don, and the dniepr. such obstacles render it impossible to augment the forces employed on the caucasus. france is infinitely better circumstanced with regard to algeria. we have nothing to prevent our keeping up strong military stations on the mediterranean shore. we can at any moment command the means of rapidly transporting to africa whatever forces may be required by ordinary or unforeseen circumstances. we will by and by return to the war in algeria, as compared with that which the russians are carrying on in the caucasus. we have yet to speak of another cause of weakness to the russian arms, and one which is the more serious as it operates exclusively on the _moral_ of the soldiers. russia has made the caucasus a place of transportation, a regular botany bay for all the rogues in the empire, and for those who by their acts or their political opinions, have incurred the wrath of the tzar. in reference to this subject, we will mention a fact which may seem hard to believe, but which i attest as an eye-witness. in , the fifteenth division, commanded by lieutenant-general s----, received orders to march to the caucasus. on leaving taganrok, it was about short of its complement, and its deficiency was supplied from the prisons of southern russia. robbers, pickpockets, vagabonds, and soldiers that had been flogged and degraded, were marched into taganrok, and incorporated with the regiments which were about to begin the campaign. these singular recruits were put under the keeping of the soldiers, and each of them, according to his supposed degree of rascality, was guarded by two, three, or four men. surely the _moral_ of the russian troops is sufficiently jeopardised by the social and military institutions of the empire, and it cannot be prudent so deeply to debase the soldier by associating him with thieves and highway robbers, and to change the toilsome wars of the caucasus into a means of punishment, i may say of destruction, for political offenders and real criminals. furthermore, a conflict so prolonged, so disastrous, and that for so many years has been without any tangible result, must inevitably have the worst effect on the minds of troops who are not actuated either by the sense of glory or honour, or by the feeling that they are defending the right. we have visited the caucasus at various times, and never did we meet one officer who was heartily attached to the service in which he was engaged. despondency is universal, and many expeditions against the mountaineers have been marked by a total absence of discipline. the soldiers have often refused to march, and have suffered themselves to be massacred by their officers, rather than advance a foot. the caucasus has also become a place of exile for a great number of poles. after the revolution of , the russian government committed the blunder of sending to the kouban most of the regiments compromised in that ill-fated effort. the result was very easy to foresee; desertion soon began in the ranks of the outlaws, and it is now known beyond a doubt that the tcherkesses have poles among them, who instruct them in the art of war, endeavour to create an artillery for them with the pieces captured from the russians, and labour actively to allay the dissensions between the various tribes. general grabe himself assured me that he had seen in several places fortifications which he recognised as quite modern. he had also in his campaign of remarked a more compact and better concerted resistance on the part of the circassians, and often a remarkable degree of combined action in their attacks. we have not much to say about the military tactics employed by russia in this war; in point of science it presents no very striking features, but on the contrary, cannot but give a very low idea of the merit of the imperial generals. at first it was expected that the conquest would be effected by hemming in the mountaineers with military lines, and gradually encroaching on their territory; but this very costly system seems to me quite impracticable in a country in which the forts are always solitary, and cannot protect each other, or cross their fires. i do not know, however, whether it has been quite given up. attempts were made in to set fire to the forests of the caucasus by means of pitch. three years afterwards it was hoped to effect their destruction by arming the men of the th division with axes; but these strange expedients only produced useless expenditure. i know a general of the highest personal courage, who calls in the aid of natural philosophy to beguile or awe the mountaineers. whenever he receives a visit from chiefs whose fidelity he is inclined to suspect, he sets an electrical machine in play. his visitors feel violent shocks, they know not how, their beards and hair stand on end, and in the bewilderment caused by these mysterious visitations, they sometimes let out an important secret, and betray themselves to their enemy. an officer of engineers told me an anecdote of this same general which is worth recording. a mosque which the russian government had built at its own expense for a tribe of little kabarda was to be inaugurated, and as usual there was a grand military parade in honour of the occasion. when the kabardians had displayed all their address in horsemanship and shooting, the russian general proceeded to give a sample of what he could do, and to strike the assembled tribes with amazement. he called for his double-barrelled gun, and having himself charged one of the barrels with ball, he ordered a pigeon to be let loose, which he instantly brought down, to the astonishment of the beholders. "that is not all," said he to the chiefs near him; "to shoot a pigeon flying is no very extraordinary feat; but to cut off his head with the ball is what i call good shooting." then turning to his servant, he said something to him in german. the man went and picked up the bird, and when he held it out to view, it was seen to be beheaded just as the general had said. unbounded was the admiration of the simple mountaineers; they looked on the general as a supernatural being, and nothing was talked of for many a day in the aouls, but the beheaded pigeon and the wonderful russian marksman. now to explain the enigma. the inhabitants of the caucasus are ignorant of the use of small shot, and it was with this the general had accomplished his surprising exploit, having previously loaded one barrel with it. as for the pigeon's head, it was adroitly whipped off by the servant, who had received his orders to that effect in german. but it would be idle to expect that the shrewd good sense of the mountaineers will long be imposed on by the scientific accomplishments of the russian generals; on the contrary, these curious expedients only give them increased confidence in their own strength. yermoloff appears to us to have been the only governor who understood the nature of the war in the caucasus, and who conducted affairs with the dignified and inflexible vigour which were fitted to make an impression on the tribes. several commanders-in-chief have succeeded him in turns: rosen, golovin, grabe, raiefsky, anrep, neughart; but the government has gained nothing by all these changes. after the details we have given, comments and arguments would be almost superfluous: it is easy to conceive how critical is the situation of the russians in the caucasian regions. for twenty years the emperor nicholas has expended all the military genius of his empire, shrinking from no sacrifice of men or money, and employing generals of the highest reputation, and yet the might of his sovereign will has broken down before the difficulties we have pointed out. the tribes of the mountain are, on the contrary, growing stronger every day. they are making progress in the art of war; success fires their zeal; the old intestine discords are gradually disappearing, and the various tribes seem to feel the necessity of acting in concert, and uniting under one banner. now can russia, under existing circumstances, increase her chances of success? we think not, and the facts sufficiently corroborate our opinion. with his system of war and absolute dominion, the tzar has entangled himself in a hopeless maze, and the caucasus will long remain a running sore to the empire, a bottomless pit to swallow up many an army and much treasure. it has often been proposed to renounce the present system, but the emperor's vanity will not admit of any pacific counsels. besides, even if russia were now willing to change the nature of her relations with the independent tribes, she could not do so. her overtures would be regarded as tokens of weakness, and the mountaineers would only become so much the more enterprising. in alexander's time, when warlike ideas were less in favour, it was proposed to establish a commercial intercourse with the tcherkesses, and bring them gradually by pacific means to acknowledge the supremacy of russia. a genoese, named scassi, proposed in to the duc de richelieu, governor of odessa, a plan for a commercial settlement on the coasts of circassia. his scheme was adopted, and a merchant vessel touched soon afterwards at guelendchik and pchiat, without meeting with any hindrance on the part of the inhabitants. a trade was soon established, but the disorderly conduct of the russians aroused the jealousy of the circassians, who soon burned and destroyed the factory at pchiat, and the government, whether justly or not, treated scassi as a culprit. since that time there has been no thought of commerce or pacification, and the tribes of the caucasus have been regarded only as rebels to be put down, not as a free people justly jealous of their privileges. frequent conferences have taken place between the russian generals and the mountain chiefs; but as the one party talked only of liberty and independence, and the other of nothing but submission and implicit obedience, hostilities always broke out again with fresh vehemence. it appears, however, from facts recently communicated to me, that the emperor is at last disposed to give up his warlike system, and that his generals have at last received orders to act only on the defensive.[ ] but as the government, whilst adopting these new measures, still loudly proclaims its rights of sovereignty over the caucasus, it follows that this change of policy is quite illusory, and cannot effect any kind of reconciliation between the russians and the mountaineers. we now come to the point at which we may advert to a question which set the whole english press in a blaze in ; namely, the blockade of the circassian coasts, and the pretensions of russia as to that part of the caucasus. it is evident that the tzar's government being at open war with the mountaineers, may at its pleasure intercept the foreign trade with the enemy's country. this is an incontestible right recognised by all nations, and the capture of the _vixen_ was not worth the noise that was made about it. as to the proprietary right to the country which russia affects to have received from turkey, through the treaty of adrianople, it is totally fallacious, and is unsupported by any historical document or positive fact. it is fully demonstrated that turkey never possessed any right over circassia; she had merely erected on the seaboard, with the consent of the inhabitants, the two fortresses of anapa and soudjouk kaleh, for the protection of the trade between the two countries. russia herself, in the beginning, publicly acknowledged this state of things; and the evidence of her having done so is to be found in the general depôt of the maps of the empire. chance threw into my hands a map of the caucasus, drawn up by the russian engineers, long prior to the treaty of adrianople. the turkish possessions are distinctly marked on it, and defined by a red boundary line; they consist solely, as we have just stated, of the two fortresses on the coast. this map, the existence of which one day sorely surprised count voronzof (governor-general of new russia), was sent to england, and deposited in the foreign office during lord palmerston's administration. after all, i hardly know why russia tries to avail herself of the treaty of adrianople as a justification in the eyes of europe of her schemes of conquest in the caucasus. she is doing there only what we are doing in algeria, and the english in india, and indeed with still greater reason; for, as we shall presently see, the possession of the caucasus is a question vitally affecting her interests in her trans-caucasian provinces, and her ulterior projects respecting the regions dependent on persia and central asia. here are the terms in which this subject is handled in a report printed at st. petersburg, and addressed to the emperor after the expedition of general emmanuel towards the elbrouz, in : "the tcherkesses bar out russia from the south, and may at their pleasure open or close the passage to the nations of asia. at present their intestine dissensions, fostered by russia, hinder them from uniting under one leader; but it must not be forgotten that according to traditions religiously preserved among them, the sway of their ancestors extended as far as to the black sea. they believe that a mighty people, descended from their ancestors, and whose existence is corroborated by the ruins of madjar, has once already overrun the fine plains adjacent to the danube, and finally settled in pannonia. add to this consideration their superiority in arms. perfect horsemen, extremely well armed, inured to war by the continual freebooting they exercise against their neighbours, courageous, and disdaining the advantages of our civilisation, the imagination is appalled at the consequences which their union under one leader might have for russia, which has no other bulwark against their ravages than a military line, too extensive to be very strong." reflections like these, printed in st. petersburg, can leave no doubt as to the dangers to which the southern provinces are exposed. they are not to be mistaken, and the government sees them clearly: the aggressive independence of the caucasus is perilous to all russia. armed, courageous, and enterprising as they are, the mountaineers need only some degree of union among their chiefs, to carry the flames of revolt over a vast portion of the tzar's dominions. let any one look fairly and impartially at the immense region comprised between the danube and the caspian, and what will he behold? to the east , tents of khirghis, turcomans, and kalmucks, robbed of all their ancient rights, or threatened with the loss of the remnant yet left them of their independence; in the centre , cossacks bound to the most onerous military service, tormented by the recollection of their suppressed constitutions, and detesting a government whose efforts tend to extinguish every trace of their nationality; in the south and west the tatars of the crimea and the sea of azof, and the bessarabians, who are far from being favourable to russia; and lastly, beyond the caucasus, in asia, restless populations, ill-broken as yet to the russian yoke, and possessions with which there exists no overland communication except that by way of mozdok, a dangerous route, which cannot be traversed without an escort of infantry and artillery, and which the mountaineers may at any moment intercept.[ ] here, assuredly, are causes enough of disorganisation and ruin, that want only a man of genius to set them in action. what wonder is it that with such contingencies to apprehend, the empire recoils from no sacrifice! no one, we believe, will deny the schemes of conquest which the muscovite government entertains regarding turkey, persia, and even certain regions of india: these schemes are incontestible, and have long been matter of history. the fact being admitted, what is the position most favourable for these vast plans of aggrandisement? we have but to glance at the map to answer immediately: the regions beyond the caucasus. there it is that russia is in contact at once with the caspian and the black sea, with persia and turkey; from thence she can with the same army dictate laws to the sultan of constantinople, and to the shah of teheran; and there her diplomacy finds an ample field to work, and continual pretexts to justify fresh encroachments. but this formidable position will never be truly and securely possessed by the tzars until the tribes of the caucasus shall have been subjugated. when the empire acquired all those asiatic provinces, its situation as to the caucasus was far from being so critical as it now is. it is, in fact, only within the last fourteen or fifteen years that the fierce struggle has raged between muscovite domination and the freedom of the mountain. i therefore much doubt that russia would now venture to act towards persia as she did in the time of catherine ii., and her successors. her hostile attitude has been strikingly modified since she has had in her rear a foe so active and dangerous as the caucasians. this is a consideration that may ease the minds of the english as to their possessions in india, for the road by herat and affghanistan will not be so very soon open to their rivals. there can be no question then respecting the great importance of the caucasus to russia. the independence of the mountaineers is perilous to her southern governments, compromises the safety and the future destiny of the trans-caucasian provinces, and at the same time fetters and completely paralyses the ambition of the tzar. it is in this sense the question is likewise regarded by the court of teheran, which now builds its whole hope of safety on the entanglements of russia in the caucasus. and now let us ask what is the work which russia is doing beyond the caucasus for the advantage or detriment of mankind? what, independently of her ambition and her tendencies, is the influence she is called to exercise over the actual and future lot of the nations she has subjected to her sway? it must be admitted that when the imperial armies appeared for the first time on the confines of asia, the trans-caucasian provinces were abandoned without defence or hope for the future to all the sanguinary horrors of anarchy. turkey, persia, and the mountain tribes rioted in the plunder of georgia and the adjacent states. the advent of the russians put an end to this sad state of things, and introduced a condition of peace and quiet unknown for many centuries before. the imperial government, it is true, brought with it its vices, its abuses, its vexations, and its hosts of greedy and plundering functionaries; and then, when the first heyday of delight at the enjoyment of personal safety was past, the inhabitants had other hardships to deplore. nevertheless, the depredations committed by its functionaries will never prevent the inevitable tendency of the muscovite occupation to bring about an intellectual development, which, soon or late, will act most favourably on the future condition of those asiatic regions. christian populations, so active and enterprising as are those of the trans-caucasian provinces, will infallibly begin a career of social improvement from the moment they find themselves released from the engrossing care of defending their bodily existence. of course it will need many years to mature a movement which derives no aid from the too superficial and corrupt civilisation of russia; nor has any thing worth mentioning been done as yet to promote the industry, commerce, and agriculture of a country, which only needs some share of freedom to be productive. tiflis is far from having fulfilled the prophecy of count gamba, in , and become a second palmyra or alexandria; on the contrary, every measure has been adopted that could extinguish the very germs of the national wealth. but humanity, mysterious in its ways, and slow in its progress, seldom keeps pace with the impatience of nations; and notwithstanding the new evils that in our day afflict the trans-caucasian populations, we are convinced that it was a grand step in advance for them to have been withdrawn from the anarchical sway of persia and turkey, and to have had the personal safety of their inhabitants secured by the intervention and authority of russia.[ ] the conquest of india by the russians has often been the theme of long discussions and elaborate hypotheses. england was very uneasy at the attempts on khiva, and never meets with a single difficulty in affghanistan without ascribing it to muscovite agents. it is, therefore, worth while to consider what are the means and facilities at the command of russia for the establishment of her dominion in the centre of turkistan and on the banks of the indus and the ganges. three points of departure and three routes present themselves to russia for the invasion of central asia. on the eastern coast of the caspian sea, manghishlak, tuk karakhan, and the bay of balkhan, communicate with khiva by caravan routes; orenburg to the north is in pretty regular communication with khiva and bokhara; and to the south the caspian provinces trade with affghanistan either by way of meshed, bokhara, and balkh, or by meshed, bokhara, and candahar. the first line that was taken by a russian expedition was that from tuk kharakhan to khiva. prince alexander bekovitch was sent by peter the great to explore certain regions of the khanat of khiva, which were supposed to contain rich gold mines, and landed on the caspian shore with about , men. the result was disastrous; but the details are too well known to need repetition here. no new demonstration has since been made in that direction, and it appears to have been with good reason abandoned entirely. the eastern shores of the caspian have been sufficiently explored to make it clear that they cannot be made the starting point of military operations against turkistan. from the mouth of the emba to the vicinity of astrabad, the shore is without a river; and the whole seaboard, as well as the regions between the caspian and khiva, with the exception of a very small tract occupied by the balkhan mountains, presents only barren desert plains, without water, occupied by nomade turcomans, and affording no resources to an invading army. "this country," says mouravief, "exhibits the image of death, or rather of the desolation left behind by a mighty convulsion of nature. neither birds nor quadrupeds are found in it; no verdure or vegetation cheers the sight, except here and there at long intervals some spots on which there grow a few sickly stunted shrubs." it is reckoned that on an average a caravan employs from twenty-eight to thirty-five days of camel-marching to complete the distance of about two hundred leagues that divides tuk karakhan from khiva. the journey is not quite so long from the bay of balkhan. this was the route taken by captain mouravief when he was sent by yermolof to the khan of khiva, to propose to him an alliance with russia. it would certainly be hard to conceive any conditions more unfavourable for an expedition towards the interior than are presented by this part of the coast. on the one side is the caspian sea, the navigation of which is at all times difficult, and in winter impossible; on the other side more than a month's march through the desert; and then on the coast itself there is a total impossibility of cantoning a reserved force. under these circumstances, all schemes of conquest in this direction must be chimerical. the russians no doubt might, by a clever _coup-de-main_, push forwards some thousands of men on khiva, and take the town; but what would they gain thereby? how could they victual their troops; or how could they establish any safe line of transport across deserts traversed by flying hordes of warlike plunderers? russia could not possibly dispense with a series of fortified posts to keep up a regular communication with her army of occupation, and how could she erect and maintain such posts in a naked and wholly unproductive country? the government has already tried to establish some small forts on the north-eastern shore of the caspian, for the protection of its fisheries, against the khirghis; but to this day it has effected nothing thereby, but the useless destruction of many thousands of its soldiers, who have perished under the most cruel hardships. furthermore, the khanat of khiva, the state nearest the imperial frontiers, is but a very small part of turkistan; nor would its occupation help in more than a very limited degree towards the conquest of bokhara, and _a fortiori_ towards that of affghanistan. after the line from the eastern coast of the caspian, that from orenburg to khiva and bokhara appears to have attracted the particular attention of the tzars. but general perofsky's fruitless expedition against khiva, in , has demonstrated that this line is quite as perilous and difficult as the other. the steppes that lie between russia and the two khanats are exactly similar to those situated north and east of the caspian, presenting the same nakedness and sterility, an almost total want of fresh water, and nomade tribes perpetually engaged in rapine. when state councillor negri was sent on an embassy to the khan of bokhara, in , he set out accompanied by cossacks, infantry, twenty-five bashkir horsemen, two pieces of artillery, horses, and camels. the government afforded him every possible facility and means of transport, and he took with him more than two months' rations for his men and cattle. yet though he met with no obstruction on the part of the hordes whose steppes he traversed, he was not less than seventy-one days in completing the journey of kilometres ( miles) from orenburg to bokhara. perofsky, who marched at the head of infantry, with , baggage camels, could not even reach the territory of khiva. the disasters suffered by his troops obliged him to retrace his steps without having advanced further than ac boulak, the last outpost erected by the russians in , at kilometres from the emba. the obstacles encountered by his small army were beyond all description. the cold was fearful, being degrees below zero of the centigrade thermometer; the camels could scarcely advance through the snow; and the movements of the troops were constantly impeded by hurricanes of extraordinary violence. such an expedition, undertaken in the depth of winter, solely for the purpose of having fresh water, may enable one to guess at the difficulties of a march over the same ground in summer. spring is a season unknown in all those immense plains of southern russia; intense frost is there succeeded abruptly by tropical heat, and a fortnight is generally sufficient to dry up the small streams and the stagnant waters produced by the melting of the snows, and to scorch up the thin coating of pasturage that for a brief while had covered the steppes. what chance then has russia of successfully invading turkistan from the north, and reigning supreme over bokhara, which is separated from orenburg by leagues of desert? all that has been done, and all that has been observed up to this day, proves that the notion is preposterous. as for any compact and amity between russia and the numerous kirghis hordes, such as might favour the march of the imperial armies in bokhara, no such thing is to be expected. a great deal has been said of the emperor alexander's journey to orenburg in , and the efforts then made by the government to conciliate the kirghis; but these proceedings have been greatly exaggerated, and represented as much more important than they really were. they have not produced any substantial result, and i know from my own experience how hostile to russia are all the roving tribes of the caspian, and how much they detest whatever menaces their freedom and independence. we have now to consider in the last place the two great persian routes, which coincide, or run parallel, with each other, as far as meshed, where they branch off to bokhara on the one hand, and on the other to cabul by herat and candahar. the former of these routes, travelled over by alexander burnes, seems to us totally impracticable. the distance to bokhara from teheran (which we will assume for the starting point, though it is still the capital of persia) is not less than leagues; and it cannot reasonably be supposed possible to effect, and above all to preserve, a conquest so remote, when in order to reach the heart of the coveted country, it is necessary to traverse the vast deserts north of meshed, occupied by nomade hordes, which are the more formidable, inasmuch as no kind of military tactics can be brought to bear on them. moreover, it must not be forgotten that the occupation of bokhara by no means infers that of affghanistan. the distance from the former to cabul is more than leagues. the regions between the two towns are indeed less sterile and easier to traverse; but, on the other hand, an army marching towards india would have to penetrate the dangerous passes of the high mountain chain between turkistan and affghanistan, which are defended by the most indomitable tribes of central asia. here would be repeated those struggles in which russia has been vainly exhausting her strength for so many years in the caucasus.[ ] in truth, in presence of such obstacles, of ground, climate, population, and distance, all discussion becomes superfluous, and the question must appear decided in the negative by every impartial man who possesses any precise notions as to the regions of western asia. there remains the route by meshed, herat, and candahar. this is incontestably the one which presents fewest difficulties; yet we doubt that it can ever serve the ambitious views attributed to russia. along the line from teheran to herat lie important centres of agricultural populations; villages are found on it surrounded by a fertile and productive soil. but these advantages, besides being very limited, are largely counterbalanced by uncultivated plains destitute of water which must be traversed in passing from one inhabited spot to another, and by the obstacles of all kinds which would be subsequently encountered in a march through the deserts of affghanistan, the warlike tribes of which are much more formidable even than the turcomans who infest the route from teheran to herat. besides, as it is nearly leagues from the capital of persia to the centre of affghanistan, it is exceedingly unlikely that russia will ever succeed in subjugating a country in which its armies could only arrive by a military road maintained and defended through so huge a space. no doubt the way would be considerably smoothed for russia along both the candahar and the bokhara lines, if by gradually extending the circle of her conquests she had brought the inhabitants of khorasan and turkistan to obey her. but there are obstacles to the achievement of this preliminary task which the empire is not by any means competent to surmount, nor will it be so for a very long time to come. to say nothing of climate, soil, and distance, all the tribes in question are animated with a hatred and aversion for russia, which will long neutralise the projects of the tzars. we often hear of the great influence exercised by the cabinet of st. petersburg at khiva, bokhara, and cabul; but we believe it to be greatly exaggerated, and the history of the various muscovite embassies proves most palpably that it is so. what did negri and mouravief effect at khiva and bokhara? they were both received with the most insulting distrust, prevented from holding any communication with the natives, and watched with a strictness which is only employed against an enemy. mouravief even went near to pay for his embassy with his head. was russia more fortunate at cabul? we think not. the remoteness of her dominions may cause her agents to be received with some degree of favour, especially at a time when the sovereign of cabul finds himself exposed to the hostility of england. yet it is not the less true that any serious attempt of russia on turkistan and the eastern regions of persia would suddenly arouse the animosity of the affghans and all their neighbours. we readily admit that the imperial government has it in its power, by its advice and its intrigues, to exercise a certain influence at cabul, to the detriment of england; but that this influence can ever serve the extension of the muscovite sway is what we utterly deny, knowing as we do the intense and unmitigable aversion to russia which is felt by all the natives of asia. the conquests of alexander the great and of genghis khan have often been appealed to as proving how easy it would be for the tzars to follow in the footsteps of those great captains. such language bespeaks on the part of the writers who have put it forth the most profound ignorance of the actual condition of the places and the inhabitants. when alexander marched towards bactriana to subjugate the last possessions of persia, he left behind him rich and fertile countries, important greek colonies, and nations entirely subdued; moreover, he marched at the head of an army consisting of natives of the south, possessing all the qualifications necessary for warfare in the latitudes of central asia. furthermore, at that period the provinces of the oxus contained numerous rich and flourishing towns, with inhabitants living in luxury, and little capable of resistance. nevertheless, in spite of all the facilities and all the supplies which the country then offered to an invading army, its physical conformation, broken and bounded by deserts both on the north and on the south, seems to have aided the efforts of its defenders to a remarkable degree. it was in fact in this remote part of persia that the conqueror of darius had to fight many a battle for the establishment of his transient sway. the same circumstances marked his march to india. invasions have become still more difficult since his day, for all those regions once occupied by wealthy and agricultural nations have been ravaged and turned into deserts; scarcely do there exist a few traces of the ancient towns, and the populations subdued by alexander have been succeeded by hordes of khirgis, turcomans, and affghans, who would be for the russians what the scythians were for the king of macedon and the other conquerors who tried to enslave their country. the mongol invasions can no more than alexander's be regarded as a precedent for russia. inured to the fatigues of emigration, carrying all their ordinary habits into the camp, changing their country without changing their ways of life, unburdened by any _matériel_ of war, and never retarded by the slow and painful march of a body of infantry, the hordes of genghis khan and tamerlane were singularly fitted for occupying and retaining possession of the immense plains of turkistan, and realising the conquest of india. russia, on the contrary, is totally devoid of those grand means of sway which alexander and the mongols enjoyed. the russians have nothing in common with the soldiers of antiquity and of the middle ages, and are placed in very different circumstances: they are natives of the coldest regions of the globe; they have no possible opportunity of previous acclimation, and they are separated from the frontiers of india by more than leagues of almost desert country, in which the employment of infantry, wherein alone consists the real superiority of europeans over orientals, is impracticable. and now, if we look to india, and to the people from whom the tzars propose to wrest its empire, we see great britain occupying all the towns on the coast and in the interior, mistress of the great rivers of the country, controlling millions of inhabitants by her irresistible political ascendency, having the richest and most productive countries of the world for the basis of her military operations, commanding acclimated european troops, and a powerful native army habituated to follow her banners; in a word, we see great britain placed in the most admirable position for defending her conquests, and repulsing any aggression of the northern nations, foreign to the soil of hindustan and central asia. the fears of the english and the schemes of the russians appear to us, therefore, alike chimerical. undoubtedly, as we have already said, the intrigues of the government of st. petersburg, may, like those of any other influential power, create difficulties and annoyances in affghanistan and elsewhere; but the english rule will never be really in danger, until the time shall come when national ambition and a desire of resistance shall have been kindled in the hindu populations themselves. let us turn back to the caucasus, of which we have not spoken in this discussion, though the independence of its tribes is in our opinion one of the most important obstacles to the aggrandisement of russia in asia; and let us imagine what are the immediate palpable interests which are at stake in the trans-caucasian regions for certain powers of europe. every one knows that persia is become of late years the point of contact between england and russia, the scene of competition between the two nations for the disposal of their merchandise. our readers are aware, that since the suppression of the transit trade and free commerce of the caucasian provinces, the english have established a vast depôt for their manufactures at trebisond, whence they have not only acquired a monopoly in the supply of armenia, eastern turkey, and the greater part of persia, but also supply the russian provinces themselves by contraband. hence it may be conceived with what wakeful jealousy england must watch the proceedings of russia beyond the caucasus, and what an interest she has in impeding any conquest that would close against her the great commercial route she has pursued by way of erzeroum and tauris. she cannot, therefore, be indifferent to the independence of the caucasus, which, while serving as a bulwark to the frontiers of turkey and persia, affords also a most effectual protection to her mercantile operations in trebisond. it may perhaps be said that this is a merely english question, very interesting to the manufacturers of london and manchester, but of little concern to france. but where our neighbours find means to dispose annually of more than , , _l._ sterling worth of manufactures, there also we think our own political and commercial interests are concerned. have not we, too, an influence to keep up in asia? do not we, too, possess manufactories and a numerous working population, and is it not carrying indifference and apathy too far, to let other powers engross all those regions of asia where we could find such ready and profitable markets? whose fault is it if the french flag is so seldom seen on the black sea, if trebisond is become an english town, and if the commerce of asia is monopolised by our rivals? there is much to blame in the indifference of our country, and in the incapacity of some of our consular agents. but if our commercial policy is often vicious, if our trade is misdirected and mismanaged, and we are often outstripped by our neighbours across the channel, is that any reason why we should, in blind selfishness, express our approval of conquests which would only end in the destruction of all european commerce in the black sea? certainly if russia, modifying her prohibitive system, and frankly abandoning all further designs against turkey and the coasts of the black sea, would seek to extend her dominions solely on the side of persia, we think it would be good policy not to thwart such a movement; for in case of a struggle between that power and england, france would unquestionably be called on to act as a mediator, which would give her an admirable opportunity for dictating conditions favourable to her policy and her influence in the east. the detailed considerations into which we have entered respecting the situation of the russians, the war in the caucasus, and the political importance of that region, clearly indicate the differences between the conflict in the caucasus and that which we have been carrying on for fourteen years in algeria. the aggressive policy of russia once admitted, and her possessions north, south, and east of the caucasus not allowing of contestation, the submission of the mountaineers becomes for her a vital question, with which is connected, not only the fate of her asiatic provinces, but also that of all the governments that lie between the danube and the caspian. in algeria, on the contrary, we are not urged by any imperious motive to extend our conquests. our political influence in europe, and our real strength could at present gain nothing thereby; and it is probably reserved to another generation to derive a grand and useful result from our african conquests. of late years some public writers, taking the defeats of russia for their text, have founded on them an argument against the establishment of french supremacy in algeria. this reasoning appears to us unsound, and it is even at variance with historical facts. in asia, russia has had to deal with two very distinct regions; the trans-caucasian provinces, and the caucasus proper. the former, easy of access, and comprising georgia, imeritia, mingrelia, and the other provinces taken from persia and turkey, were occupied by disorganised nations, at variance within themselves, and differing from each other in race, manners, and religion; accordingly the muscovite sway was established over them without difficulty, and without any conflict worth mentioning with the inhabitants. the case has not been the same in that immense mountain barrier erected between europe and asia, the inaccessible retreats of which extend from anapa to the shores of the caspian. the dwellers in those regions present no analogy with the inhabitants south of the chain. there has never been a moment's pause in the obstinate strife between them and russia; and all the sacrifices, and all the efforts of the tzars against them, have for sixty years been wholly in vain. our situation in algeria is evidently very different. we have there had for our portion neither the bootless strife of the caucasus, though having most warlike tribes for adversaries, nor the easy conquests of the trans-caucasian provinces. it is but fourteen years since our troops landed in africa, and we possess, not only all the towns of the seaboard, but likewise all those of the interior; numerous bodies of natives share actively in our operations; we are masters of all the lines of communication; our forces command the country to a great distance from the coasts: and in the opinion of all well-informed officers the pacification of the regency of algiers would, perhaps, have by this time been accomplished, if the government had set its face against the passion for bulletins, and the too martial humour of most of our generals, and tried to pacify the tribes, not by arms and violence, but numerously ramified commercial relations which should call into play the natural cupidity of the arabs. nor can the topographical difficulties of algeria be compared with those that defend the country of the lesghis, the tchetchenzes, and the tcherkesses. intersected by vast plateaux, numerous rich and fertile valleys, and parallel mountain ranges, almost everywhere passable and flanked by long lines of coast of which we possess the principal points, and which present at algiers, oran, philippeville, and bona, wide openings affording admission into the interior, our possessions afford free course to our armies, and nowhere exhibit that strange and singular conformation in which has consisted from time immemorial the safety of the caucasian tribes. there are other circumstances likewise that facilitate our progress in africa, and enable us to exercise a direct influence over all the tribes south of the tel of algiers. as has been very ably demonstrated by m. carrette, captain of engineers, it is enough to occupy the extreme limits of the cultivated lands, and the markets in which the inhabitants of the oases exchange their produce for the corn and other indispensable commodities of the north, to oblige all the populations of the sahara, fixed or nomade, immediately to acknowledge the sovereignty of france. it is only in case our government, impelled by ill-directed vanity, should decide on the absolute conquest of the mountains of the kabyles, that we might encounter in the country, and in the political constitution of those mountaineers, some of the obstacles that characterise the caucasian regions. and again, what comparison can there be between kabylia, the two portions of which east and west of algiers comprise but or square leagues of surface, and the great chain of the caucasus which extends with a mean breadth of fifty or sixty leagues, over a length of more than leagues? we say nothing of the superiority of our armies and our military system. it is enough to recall what we have said as to the deplorable situation of the troops in the caucasus, to be aware how much france has the advantage over russia in this respect. the diseases and the frightful mortality incident to our armies have been also dwelt on; but here again all the statistical returns are in favour of france. out of a force of , men, our mean annual loss is or . in , indeed, the most fatal year, it appears to have risen to , ; but in that same year, and likewise in the following year, russia lost more than , on the coasts of circassia alone. thus physically, as well as politically, there is a total difference between the war in the caucasus and that in algeria; and instead of suffering ourselves to be disheartened by fourteen years of unproductive occupation, and despairing before hand, because the actual results do not keep pace with our unreasonable impatience, we ought to take example by that indefatigable perseverance with which russia, in spite of her disasters and the fruitlessness of her efforts, has gone on in the pursuit of her purpose for upwards of half a century. footnotes: [ ] m. hommaire says he has copied the bulletin exactly as it appeared in french in the russian papers. [ ] "unfortunately the author of this heroic act is unknown. it is believed from some hearsay accounts to have been performed by a private soldier of the tenguinisky regiment of infantry. the results of the inquiry instituted on the subject will be published hereafter." (_note of the russian journalist._) [ ] this was written in . [ ] there is indeed a road by way of daghestan along the caspian; but it is still more impracticable than that by mozdok, and besides it is too long to be of use to russia in her dealings with the asiatic governments. as for the maritime routes by the caspian and the black sea, their utility is greatly limited by the intense frosts which block up the ports of odessa, kherson, taganrok, kertch, and astrakhan during four months of the year. [ ] we do not mean these remarks to apply in any respect to the mussulman tribes, of whom we will speak hereafter. the christian and the mahometan population balance each other in the trans-caucasian provinces; they both number about , males. [ ] the mountains that divide turkistan from affghanistan are covered with perpetual snow; some of their peaks are yards high. hadjigak, which was crossed by a. burnes, is yards above the sea. chapter xxxii. a storm in the caucasus--night journey; dangers and difficulties--stavropol--historical sketch of the government of the caucasus and the black sea cossacks. at four o'clock on a dull morning we left piatigorsk of charming memory, to strike once more into the mountains, where by the by, in less than an hour, we were met by one of the grandest and most violent storms i remember ever having witnessed. we had to endure its force for two long hours; and our situation was the more critical, since our _yemshik_ (coachman), though quite familiar with the road, seemed almost at his wits' end. it was only by the gleam of the lightning he was able to make such brief observations of the ground as enabled him to guide his horses. this was certainly a very precarious resource, but there is a special providence for travellers. lost in the midst of the mountains, and our sole hope of safety resting on the coolness and skill of a peasant, we escaped, we scarce knew how, from a seemingly inevitable catastrophe. a furious burst of rain, the last expiring effort of the storm, at last cleared the sky, which became coloured towards the west with purple bands, that contrasted gloriously with the darkness of the rest of the firmament. a magnificent rainbow, with one end springing from the highest peak of the caucasus, whilst the other was lost in the mists of evening, gleamed before us for a few moments, and gradually dissolved away. at half-past seven we reached the station, wet, weary, stupified, and very much surprised to find ourselves safe and sound after having passed through so many dangers. nevertheless, this recent alert by no means made us forego our original plan of travelling all night in order to reach stavropol the next day. nothing is so soon forgotten in travelling as danger. one is no sooner out of one scrape than he is ready to get into another, and a worse one, without giving a thought to his past alarms. you must get over the ground: that is your ruling thought. as for taking precautions, calculating the good or the bad chances of the journey, or troubling oneself about dangers to come, by reason of those already incurred, all this is quite out of the question. we were quite bent on travelling all night, but the idea was totally discountenanced by the postmaster and the cossacks whom we fell in with at the station. they told us there was a fair at stavropol, and that the road was always somewhat dangerous on such occasions, particularly after sunset. a night or two before, several persons returning from the fair had been surprised and plundered by the circassians, in spite of the many military posts along the road. several other ugly stories were told us, in a tone that at last shook our resolution, and we were beginning very reluctantly to give up our project, when an unexpected incident made us recur to it again. a polish officer, who until then had kept aloof in a dark corner, seeing the annoyance we felt at this unforeseen delay, joined in the conversation, and offered to set out at once with us, if his company would be sufficient to restore our confidence. he, too, was going to stavropol, and it was all the same to him whether he travelled that night or next day. the proposal, which was made with the most obliging frankness, agreed too well with our wishes to allow of any further hesitation, and we at once accepted it. the pole had with him a servant very well armed, and the two together were such a reinforcement to our little troop as almost insured our safety. with great exultation we set about our preparations for departure, but the more experienced postmaster gave with reluctance the order to put the horses to, and could not help crossing himself repeatedly when he saw us get into the britchka, whilst the two yemshiks failed not to imitate his example, and to lift their fur caps several times in token of devotion. the russians always find means to mingle crossings with all the other acts of their hands, by which process they set their consciences entirely at rest. i am satisfied they cross themselves even when thieving, partly from habit, and partly in the hope of escaping without detection. once out of the yard, the pleasure of travelling on a mild and dim night through an unknown country, that presented itself to our eyes under vague and mysterious forms, so engrossed our minds that we thought no more of circassians, or broken ground, or danger of any kind. the pole's carriage preceded ours, and his cossack began to sing in a low tone one of those sweet melancholy airs which are peculiar to the malorussians. the plaintive melody, mingled with the tinkling of the horses' bells, and the motion of the carriage lulled me into a dreamy repose, half way between sleeping and waking. i know not how long this state of hallucination lasted; but i was startled out of it by a pistol-shot fired close to me, and before i could collect my senses a second was fired, but at some distance. the carriage had stopped, the night was very dark, and my companions were quite silent. i was a good deal frightened, until my husband explained to me that the polish officer had lost his way, and that our dragoman had fired his pistol as a signal to him, and that the second shot was an answer to the first. being now satisfied that we had not half a dozen circassians about us, i recovered courage enough to laugh at my first dismay. anthony left us to look for our travelling companion, after arranging with us that a third shot should be the token of his having found him. we passed half an hour in a state of painful anxiety, teasing ourselves with a thousand alarming conjectures, and dreading lest the report of fire-arms should bring down on us some of the circassians who might be prowling in the neighbourhood. what would i not have then given to be far away from that road which we had been told was so terrible, and of which my imagination still more magnified the dangers! at last the preconcerted signal was heard, and anthony soon afterwards returned, but alone, and told us that we must go on without the pole, whose pereclatnoi had stuck fast in a bad spot, and could not be extricated until daylight. the night was so dark, and the ground so dangerous, that notwithstanding his wish to ease our minds, the officer could not venture to come to us. this news was not calculated to abate our anxiety; we might in a moment be in the same predicament as the officer, supposing nothing worse should happen. the road, as the yemshik told us, wound round a rock, and what proved that it was dangerous was that it was flanked in places with slight posts and rails. such a precaution is so rare in russia, that it may be taken as a certain indication of no common danger. we debated awhile whether it would not be more prudent to remain where we were until daybreak; but the coachman was so terrified at the thought of passing a night in the mountains, that he gave us no peace till we moved forward. the prospect of tumbling down a precipice was decidedly less terrible to him than the thought of having to do with the circassians. alighting and leading his horses, he followed anthony, who carefully sounded one side of the road. as we advanced on our perilous descent, the sound of a torrent roaring at the bottom smote our ears, as if to increase our perplexity; but in an hour's time we found ourselves safe and sound on the plain, and soon afterwards we reached the station, where our arrival excited great astonishment. the postmaster was enraged against his colleague, and could not conceive how he had come to give us horses at night, in defiance of the strict rules of the police. for his part he assured us that his duty forbade him to do any such thing, and that it was useless to ask him. i need not say, however, that this declaration itself was useless, for we had had quite enough of the road for that night. i never enjoyed the most comfortable chamber in a french or german hotel so much as i did the miserable lodging in which i then lay down on a bench covered only with a carpet. we did not quit the station next day until the arrival of our travelling companion, whom we had reluctantly left in so unpleasant a predicament. he was severely bruised by his fall, but laughed heartily at his mishap. we set out together, very glad to get away from those fine mountains that were then gleaming in the rays of the morning. the events of the preceding night, though after all not very dramatic, had left so painful an impression on our mind, that the very sight of the mountains still caused us a secret dread. instead, therefore, of quitting with regret so picturesque a region, the more homely and commonplace the country became, the more we admired it. we were just in the humour to be delighted with the steppes of the black sea; so much does the appreciation of scenery depend on the state of the mind. during all this day's journey the road was covered with carriages, horsemen, and pedestrians, repairing to the fair of stavropol, and affording samples of all the motley population of the vicinity, circassians, cossacks, turcomans, georgians, and tatars; some in brilliant costume, caracoling on their high-bred kalmuck or persian horses, others stowed away with their families in carts covered with hides; others driving before them immense flocks of sheep or swine, that encompassed the carriages and horsemen, and occasioned some very comical incidents. among all those whom business or pleasure was calling to the fair, we particularly noticed a very handsome young circassian mounted on a richly caparisoned horse, and riding constantly beside a pavosk of more elegance than the rest, and the curtains of which were let down. this was enough to stimulate our curiosity, for in these romantic regions the slightest incident affords matter for endless conjectures. i would have given something to be allowed to lift one of the curtains of the mysterious pavosk, or at the least to keep it in view until our arrival in stavropol, but our postilion did not partake in our curiosity, and putting his horses to a gallop, he soon made us lose sight of the group. the last low range of the caucasus, which gradually diminishes in height to stavropol, formed an irregular line on our left, in which we caught many hasty glimpses of charming scenery. the vegetation still retained a great degree of freshness, in consequence of the mildness of the temperature, which at this season would have appeared to us extraordinary even in more southern countries. it was late in the evening when we reached stavropol, so that we could not avail ourselves of our letters of introduction, and were obliged to hunt for a lodging in the hotels of the principal street. but they were all full, and with great difficulty we succeeded, with the help of our polish friend, in getting admission to the great saint nicholas, a shabby inn, the common room of which was already tenanted by a dozen travellers. nevertheless, we secured a little corner, and there we contrived to form a tolerable sort of divan with our cushions and pelisses. i had now an opportunity of remarking how little notice travellers take of each other in this country. in this room, filled with people whose habits were so different from ours, we were as much at our ease as if the apartment belonged to us alone; and neither our language, behaviour, nor dress, appeared to attract any undue attention. stavropol, the capital of the whole caucasus, is a very agreeable town, and appeared to us so much the more so from the animation lent it by the fair. but i perceive that in the course of these travels i have not named one town without immediately joining the word _fair_ to it. it must be owned that chance was most bountiful to us in throwing in our way so many occasions for conceiving a high idea of the commerce of russia. at stavropol, however, the fair occupied our attention much less than general grabe, who was just a week returned from an expedition against the circassians. his staff filled the whole town with the noise of their martial deeds. every officer had his story of some glorious exploit, whereof of course he was himself the hero. though so recently returned, general grabe was already in busy preparation for another campaign, on which he built the greatest hopes. the good gentleman even pressed my husband very strongly to accompany him, as if it were a mere party of pleasure. he offered him his tent, instruments, and every thing necessary to render the excursion beneficial to science. under any other circumstances my husband would no doubt have yielded to the temptation of visiting the tribes of the caucasus in the very heart of their mountains, under the protection of a whole army, but it would have been madness to undertake such a journey after those we had but just completed. * * * * * before we finally take leave of the caucasian regions, it will not be amiss to give some historical account of that part of the empire, and of the cossacks of the black sea, to whom is committed the perilous task of protecting the frontiers against the incessant attacks of the formidable mountain tribes. it was by virtue of an ukase promulgated by catherine ii. in , that russia took full and entire possession of all the countries north of the kouban and the terek, which of yore formed the almost exclusive dominions of numerous hordes of black nogais, some of them independent, others acknowledging the authority of the tatar khans of the crimea. but previously to this period the tzars were already in military occupation of the country, for it was in that they completed the armed line of the caucasus, begun by peter the great, at the mouth of the terek. at first the new conquest was put under the direction of the military governor of astrakhan; but the state of the southern frontiers soon became so serious in consequence of the war with the mountaineers, that it was found advisable to form all the provinces conquered by catherine ii. north of the caucasus, into a distinct province. the government of the caucasus thus constituted, is bounded on the north by the kouma and the manitch, which divide it from the territory of astrakhan and from that of the don cossacks; on the west by the country of the black sea cossacks; on the east by the caspian, and on the south by the armed line of the kouban and the terek. at the foot of the caucasus, as everywhere else, the russian occupation occasioned great migrations. all the black nogais of the right bank of the kouban, who had fought against russia, withdrew beyond the river among the tribes of the mountain. the kabardians forsook the environs of georgief, and sought refuge deeper in the caucasian chain, and it was only the black nogais of the barren plains between the terek and the kouma that remained in their old abodes. cut off from the independent tribes since the erection of the fortresses of kisliar and mosdok, they took no part in the events of the war, and so they remained in peaceable possession of their territory. as for the kalmucks, who had been very bold and active auxiliaries of russia, they preserved intact all the pasturages they now possess in the government of the caucasus. the muscovite sway once established, and the frontiers put in a state of defence, the next step was to occupy the country along the northern verge of the caucasus in some other way than by light troops. it was therefore determined to form numerous colonies of muscovites and cossacks, a project which the absolute power of the tzars enabled them quickly to fulfil. the present villages in the centre of the province along the banks of the kouban, the terek, the kouma, the egorlik and the kalaous, were erected, and the military colonies of the black sea cossacks were founded; several large proprietors seconded the efforts of the government, and prompted either by the spirit of speculation, or by the superabundance of their slaves, formed large establishments on the lands that had been gratuitously conferred upon them. attempts, too, were made to settle some of the german families of saratof on the kouma. but the results were far from realising the hopes of the government. compressed between the narrow limits in the districts of stavropol and georgief, bounded on the north and east by the uncultivated lands of the turcomans and kalmucks, on the south by the armed lines, continually attacked and overrun by the mountaineers, the colonies soon ceased to wear a thriving appearance; many sacked and burnt villages never rose again from their ashes, the german colony on the kouma was destroyed, and now there remains no hope that the number of agricultural inhabitants will ever become sufficient to lend any real aid to the projects of the tzars. we have been in a great many villages on the kouma, and the confluents of the manitch, and found them scarcely able to supply their own wants. their contributions to the commissariat are almost nothing, and the armies are always obliged to procure their stores from the central provinces of russia. some settlements, indeed, such as vladimirofka and bourgon madjar on the kouma, directed by able men, have attained a high degree of prosperity; but these are exceptions, and they owe their wealth to the cultivation of the mulberry and the pine, and their numerous corn-mills, which constitute for them a virtual monopoly. the cultivation of corn has had no share in the welfare of these colonies, the nature of the climate having always been unfavourable to it: the people of vladimirofka and the neighbouring villages think themselves fortunate if they can raise corn enough for their own consumption. thus, while we cordially approve of the principle that suggested the foundation of these advanced posts of the slavic population, and that strives to enlarge their growth, we are nevertheless convinced that in the present state of things, with the war in the caucasus becoming every day more formidable, these colonies can never be conducive to the progress of russia; unless, indeed, that should happen, which we think most unlikely, namely, that the government should so extend its conquests as to become undisputed possessor of the fertile regions beyond the kouban, where the colonist could command sufficient natural resources. the cossacks better fulfilled the purpose for which they were settled on the frontier. active, enterprising, and accustomed to partisan warfare, they were admirably adapted for resisting the incursions of the mountaineers. if they have been less efficient of late years, the blame must be laid on the inordinate demands of the government, the extreme contempt with which they are treated by the russian generals, and, above all, the extinction of the privileges which had been wisely conferred on them in the beginning, and which alone could guarantee to the empire the maintenance of their vigorous military organisation. the black sea cossacks, as every one is aware, are descended from the zaporogues of the dniepr, whose famous military corporation appears to have been established towards the end of the fifteenth century. continually engaged against the tatars of the crimea, the ukraine cossacks founded at this period a sort of colony near the mouths of the dniepr, consisting exclusively of unmarried men, whose special avocation it was to guard the frontiers. their numbers rapidly increased, deserters from all nations being attracted to them by the hope of booty, and their setcha, or head-quarters, on an island of the dniepr, became famous throughout the land for the military services and the valour of its inhabitants. in , such was the importance of these colonies to poland, that king sigismund granted a large tract of land above the cataracts to the zaporogues, in order to strengthen the barrier erected by them between his dominions and the tatars. the new settlements on the dniepr for a long time followed the fortune of the cossacks of little russia. but as their strength augmented continually, they at last detached themselves from the mother country, and became an independent military state. the supremacy of the tzars was imposed on little russia in , and from that time the zaporogues, deprived of their allies, and left entirely to their own resources, owned allegiance, according to circumstances, to the turks or the tatars, to poland or russia, until the rebellion of mazeppa, in which they took part, led to the total destruction of their power. some years afterwards we find them again rallied under the protection of the khans of the crimea; but russia soon assumed so formidable an attitude in those parts, that they were at last constrained, in , to acknowledge themselves vassals of the empire. but the political decline of the unfortunate zaporogues did not stop there. during the war that preceded the treaty of koutchouk kainardji, a strong desire for independence was excited among them by the arbitrary acts of russia. many of their detachments fought even in the ranks of the turks. then it was that catherine determined on completely rooting out the military colony of the dniepr. the zaporogues were expelled by force from their territory, which was given to other cultivators; and some of them emigrated beyond the danube, while others were transported to the neighbourhood of bielgorod. ten years afterwards, when war broke out again with turkey, a great number of the latter volunteered into the russian armies. after the peace of jassy, prince potemkin, who had formed them into regiments, was so pleased with their valour and fidelity, that he induced catherine to settle them beyond the strait of the kertch, and intrust them with the defence of the circassian border. they were also granted, along with the peninsula of taman, the whole territory comprised between the kouban and the sea of azof, and extending eastward to the confluent of the laba, and northward to the river eia. the zaporogues then took the appellation of cossacks of the black sea, and their organisation was assimilated to that of their brethren of the don. they had an attaman, nominated for life by the emperor, out of a list of candidates chosen by themselves; and the civil and military affairs of the community were directed, under this supreme chief, by two permanent functionaries, and four assessors changed every three years. other privileges were likewise accorded to them, consisting chiefly in exemption from all taxes, the free use of the salt-pools, the right of terminating all litigations without having recourse to the st. petersburg courts of appeal, and in the pledge given to them by the government, that their regiments should never be required to serve beyond their own territory. under the influence of catherine's liberal institutions, the military colony completely fulfilled the hopes of the government, and made rapid progress. the rich pastures of the kouban were covered with immense multitudes of cattle, and agriculture, too, attained some degree of importance. the population also augmented considerably. the lands of the kouban, as formerly those of the don, became an asylum for a great number of fugitives, and the neighbouring provinces had often to complain of the escape of their slaves. but for the last twenty years the black sea cossacks have been suffering from the effects of the new measures for equalisation and uniformity, and, like the cossacks of the don, they are now on the eve of being subjected to the ordinary laws and institutions of the provinces of the empire. the first encroachment on their privileges, was their employment on active service during the late wars with turkey and persia. they were obliged to furnish four regiments, which lost an enormous number of men, and nearly all their horses. this first step taken, the government advanced rapidly in its course of reform, and in a few years the cossacks were deprived of their right of electing their own functionaries, who were thenceforth nominated by the emperor alone. these administrative changes, conjoined with the military duties, which have increased to a most onerous extent in the course of the war against the mountaineers, have had a very depressing effect on the spirits of the population; and at this day the cossacks of the kouban are far different men from those fiery zaporogues, whose vigorous aid was so eagerly sought by russia, poland, and turkey. the military life is become a loathsome burden to them, and they now only fight by constraint or in self-defence. the russians, accordingly, accuse them of cowardice; but the government, by destroying their privileges, and the commanders-in-chief by the scorn with which they treat them and the continual activity they impose on them, do all that in them lies to dishearten and debase them. it is they who are always put foremost in every expedition; every commanding officer sacrifices them without scruple, and makes targets of them for the balls of the mountaineers. is it reasonable, then, to expect alacrity and high courage on the part of men for whom military service is the breaking of every family tie, the destruction of all domestic prosperity, and who have not been left, in exchange for so many sacrifices, even the shadow of national independence? at the time of my last journey to the caucasus in , the cossacks of the black sea numbered about , souls, of whom , were males, residing in sixty-four villages, and on , , hectares of land held in common property, like the country of the don in former times. the colonial army counted at that period according to the registers, eleven regiments of cavalry, ten of infantry, of men each, and two batteries of artillery, one of them mounted, making altogether a total of , men, nearly the third of the male population. no doubt, the army can never in any case reach the official amount of force, its ranks being continually thinned by disease and war; and although young men are forced to enter the service at the age of seventeen, and are often kept in it thirty or forty years, still it would be quite impossible to bring more than , or , into the field at once, without endangering the total destruction of the population. in a pecuniary point of view, no men could well be more unfortunate than the cossacks of the kouban, whether in campaign against the mountaineers, or merely cantoned as reserves in their villages, they receive absolutely nothing for their services. the regulations, indeed, declare that the regiments actually called out shall receive pay at the rate of six rubles annually for each private, thirty-five rubles for every non-commissioned officer, and for every subaltern officer; but infallible means have been found for preventing these moderate allowances from ever reaching those to whom they are promised. the posting establishment throughout the cossack country costs the government just as little as the maintenance of the troops, since horses, harness, hay, and corn are all furnished gratis by the colony. the postilions even receive no pay whatever; they are only allowed a little flour and groats, and for every thing else they and their families must shift for themselves during their whole term of service. as for the progon (the posting-money paid by travellers), it belongs to the cossack exchequer, and composes, with the proceeds of the farm of brandy, salt, and the fisheries, the sole revenues of the country. when i was at ekaterinodar, the capital of the country, during the season of field-work, and in a time of quiet, they reckoned fourteen regiments on active service. accordingly, as might have been expected, agriculture had been long neglected, and the country was in a miserable state. nothing was to be seen in the villages but infirm old men, invalids, widows, and orphans; and the existence of the colony depended on the toil of the women alone. the distress then became so great as to excite the uneasiness of the government, and commissioners were sent to examine into the state of things; but unfortunately the mission, like every thing of the kind, did no good. the truth remained completely concealed from the emperor. the blame was cast entirely on the cossacks themselves, and nothing was done to remedy the sufferings of the population. we do not know what measures have been adopted since our departure by the imperial government with respect to the present and future situation of the military colony of the kouban. for our own parts, having had opportunities of appreciating the good qualities of the tchornomorskie cossacks, and all the capabilities which a wise administration would find in them, we cannot but heartily wish that the government may, with a better understanding of its own true interests, at least adopt towards them a line of conduct more in accordance with their wants and their laborious services. chapter xxxiii. rapid journey from stavropol--russian wedding--perilous passage of the don; all sorts of disasters by night-- taganrok; commencement of the cold season--the german colonies revisited. it would have been impossible to travel more rapidly than we did from stavropol to the don. the steppe is as smooth as a mirror, and the posting better conducted than in any other part. we no sooner reached a station, than horses, which had been brought out the moment we were descried, were put to, and galloped away with us without a moment's check to the next station. a temperature of at least ° reaumer, the beauty of the sky, and something light and joyous in the atmosphere, kept us in the highest spirits. in no country have i ever seen such multitudes of gossamer threads. the carriage, the horses, and our clothes were covered with those glistening prognostics of fair weather. as we advanced towards the abodes of civilisation, our thoughts were all about the pleasure of arriving at taganrok, to find our letters, our friends, our european habits again, and the comforts of which for many months we had enjoyed but casual snatches. we rejoiced, therefore, in the speed with which we got over the ground, and scarcely cared to bestow a glance on the stanitzas that fled away behind us. in passing through a russian village, however, we were constrained to bestow some attention on outward objects, our carriage being stopped by a wedding party that filled the whole street. we counted a dozen pavosks filled with young people of both sexes. the girls, with their heads bedizened with ribbons, screamed almost like savages, and rivalled the young men in impudence and coarseness. it was a disgusting spectacle. the bride differed from the rest only by the greater profusion of ribbons and flowers that formed her head-gear; her face was as red, her gestures as indelicate, and her voice as loud and shrill as those of her companions. it may seem scarcely credible, but we were but two-and-twenty hours travelling versts, between stavropol and the don. we ate and slept in the carriage, and only alighted at the river side, where all sorts of tribulations awaited us. i cannot at this moment think of that memorable night without wondering at the pertinacity with which ill-luck clings to us when once it has fastened upon us. at ten at night, when we were some little way from the don, we were told that the bridge was in a very bad state, and that we should probably be obliged to wait till the next day, before we could cross it. such a delay was not what we had bargained for, especially as we had reckoned on enjoying that very night a good supper and a good bed under a friendly roof in rostof. then the weather, which had been so mild, had suddenly turned chill, and this was another motive to haste; so we went on without heeding what was told us; but when we came to the river, the tokens that the bridge was out of order, were but too manifest. several carts stood there unyoked, and peasants lay beside them, patiently waiting the daylight. these men reiterated the bad news we had already heard; but then it was only eleven o'clock; if we waited we should have to pass nearly seven hours in the britchka, exposed to the cold night air, whereas once on the other side, we should reach rostof in two hours. this consideration was too potent to allow of our receding from our purpose. at the same time we neglected no precaution that prudence required. the coachman and the cossack were sent forward with a lantern to make a reconnaissance, and returning in half an hour, they reported that the passage was not quite impracticable, only it would be necessary to be very cautious, for some parts of the bridge were so weak, that any imprudence might be fatal to us. without calculating the risks we were about to run, we at once alighted, and followed the carriage, which the coachman drove slowly, whilst the cossack went ahead with the lantern, pointing out the places he ought to avoid. i do not think that in the whole course of my travels we were ever in so alarming a situation. the danger was imminent and indubitable. the cracking of the woodwork, the darkness, the noise of the water dashing through the decayed floor, that bent under our feet, and the cries of alarm uttered every moment by the coachman and the cossack, were enough to fill us with dismay: yet the thought of death did not occur to me, or rather my mind was too confused to have any distinct thought at all. frequently the wheels sank between the broken planks, and those were moments of racking anxiety; but at last by dint of perseverance we reached the opposite bank in safety. the passage had lasted more than an hour; it was time for it to end, for i could hold out no longer; the water on the bridge was over our ancles. it may be imagined with what satisfaction we took our places again in the carriage. the dangers we had just incurred, and which we were then better able fully to understand, almost made us doubt our actual safety. for a long while we seemed to hear the noise of the waves breaking against the bridge; but this feeling was soon dispelled by others; for our nocturnal adventures were by no means at an end. at some versts from the don our unlucky star put us into the hands of a drunken coachman, who after losing his way, i know not how often, and bumping us over ditches and ploughed fields, actually brought us back in sight of the dreadful bridge which we still could not think of without shuddering. we tried in our distress to persuade ourselves we were mistaken, but the case was too plain; there was the don in front of us, and there stood axai, the village we had passed through after getting into the britchka. fancy our rage after floundering about for two hours to find ourselves just at the point from which we started. the only thing we could think of was to pass the night in a peasant's cabin; but our abominable coachman, whom the sight of the river had suddenly sobered, and who had reason to expect a sound drubbing, threw himself on his knees and so earnestly implored us to try the road to rostof again, that we yielded to his entreaties. the difficulty was how to get back into the road, and we had many a start before we found it. the carriage was so violently shaken in crossing a ditch, that the coachman and anthony were pitched from their seats, and the latter fell upon the pole, and became entangled in such a way that he was not easily extricated. his shouts for help, and his grimaces when my husband and the cossack had set him on his legs were so desperate, that one would have thought half his bones were broken, though he had only a few trifling bruises. as for the yemshik, he picked himself up very coolly, and climbed into his seat again as if nothing extraordinary had happened. to see the quiet way in which he resumed the reins, one would have supposed he had just risen from a bed of roses; such is the usual apathy of the russian peasants. it was four in the morning when we came in sight of rostof, which is but twelve versts distant from the don. thus we spent a great part of the night in wandering about that town, like condemned ghosts, without deriving much advantage from our rash passage of the river. it was well worth while to run the risk of drowning, when our calculations and efforts could be baffled by so vulgar a cause as the drunkenness of a coachman! but the sight of rostof, where good cheer and hospitality awaited us, consoled us for all our mishaps. yet even here, when we almost touched the goal, our patience was put to further trial; for alighting at the post station two versts from the town, our rascally coachman positively refused to drive us a foot beyond it. this was too much for the cossack's endurance, so drawing out a long knout from his belt, he paid the fellow on the spot the whole reckoning he had intended to settle with him at the journey's end. the yemshik's shouts brought all the people of the station about us, and the wife of the postmaster came and scolded him at such a rate, that at last he was forced to drive us to the town; but it was more than an hour before he set us down at mr. yeams's house. his drunkenness had now passed into the sleepy stage, and he could only be kept to his work by constant thumping. the house where we intended to lodge contained a corn store belonging to mr. yeams, english consul at taganrok, who had obligingly invited us to use it when we quitted that town, and had sent orders to that effect to his clerk, m. grenier: and so pleased were we with our quarters on our first visit to rostof, that now the thought of going anywhere else never entered our heads. to have done so would have seemed an affront to mr. yeams's cordial hospitality. while we were unpacking the carriage, anthony went and knocked at the door, and the coachman, unyoking his horses, in a trice went off as fast as he could, without even waiting to ask for drink money. some minutes elapsed; hommaire, losing patience, knocks again, when at last out comes anthony with a very long face, and tells us that m. grenier, clerk and provençal into the bargain, refused of his own authority to receive us, pretending that he had not a room for us. unable to comprehend such conduct, and believing that there was some mistake in the case, my husband went himself to the man, who putting his nose out from under the blankets, told him impudently, we must go and look for a lodging elsewhere. all comment on such behaviour would be superfluous. to shut the door at night against one's own country people, and one of them a woman, rather than incur a little personal trouble, was a proceeding that could enter the head of none but a provençal. the kalmucks might have given a lesson in politeness to this boor, who rolled himself up snugly to sleep, whilst we spent the night, benumbed and shivering, under his windows in his court-yard. it may be conceived in what a state i passed the night; drenched with wet, worn down with mental and bodily fatigue, hungry, sleepy, and chilled by the sharp cold that at that season precedes sunrise, i was really unconscious of what was passing around me. as soon as it was light the cossack procured horses, and took us to the best hotel in rostof, where a warm room, an excellent bowl of soup, and a large divan, soon set us to rights again. on our arrival at taganrok all the yeams family were indignant at the behaviour of our provençal, and, had we been disposed to pay him in his own coin we might have done so. they would have sent him his discharge forthwith, had we not interceded for him; the french consul wrote him a threatening letter, and with this our vengeance remained satisfied. we learned at taganrok that the strangest rumours had gone abroad respecting us. some said that the circassians had made us prisoners, others that we had perished of hunger and thirst in the caspian steppes. in short, every one had had his own melodramatic version of our supposed fate. i cannot describe all the kind interest that was shown on our safe return from so hazardous a journey. in spite of our wish to arrive as soon as possible in odessa, we could not refrain from bestowing a week on friends who received us with such warm sympathy. the winds from the ural swept away in one night all that october had spared. the weather was still sunny when we arrived on the shores of the sea of azof; but on the next day the sky assumed that sombre chilly hue that always precedes the metels or snow-storms. the whole face of nature seemed prepared for the reception of winter, that eternal sovereign of northern lands. the sea-beach covered with a thin coating of ice, the harsh winds, the ground hardened by the frost, and the increasing lividness of the atmosphere, all betokened its coming, and made us keenly apprehensive of what we should have to suffer on our way to odessa, where we were to take up our winter quarters, and from whence we were still versts distant. with the rapidity of the russian post the journey might be accomplished in ten days, if the weather were not unfavourable; but after the threatening symptoms i have mentioned, we might expect soon to have a fall of snow, and perhaps to be kept prisoners by it in some village. unfortunately for us it was the most dangerous season for travelling in russia. the first snows, which are not firm enough to bear a sledge, are much feared by travellers, and almost every year cause many accidents. at this period, too, the winds are very violent, and produce those frightful snow-storms which we have already described. it was a very cheerless prospect for persons so way-worn and weary as we were, to have incessantly to fight against the elements and other obstacles. i remember that in this last journey our need of rest was so urgent, that the poorest peasant seated by his stove was an object of envy to us. we once more passed through all the german colonies i had so much admired a few months before. but the pleasing verdure of may had disappeared beneath the icy winds of the north, and all was dreary and dull of hue. even the houses, no longer glistening in the sunshine, had a sombre appearance in harmony with the withered leaves of the orchards. a metel that broke out one night forced us to pass two days in a german village, in the house of a worthy old prussian couple. the wife had lost the use of one side, and could not leave her chair, but her husband supplied her place in all the domestic concerns with a skill that surprised us. as in all the german houses, the principal room was adorned with a handsome porcelain stove, and a large tester bed which our hosts insisted on giving up to us. from morning till night the husband, aided by a stout servant girl, exerted all his culinary powers for our benefit. the table was laid out all day until dinner hour with coffee, pastry, bottles of wine, ham, and other appetising commodities. there is nothing i think more delightful in travelling than to watch the proceedings of a somewhat rustic cuisine. in such cases all the marvels of carême's art fade before two or three simple dishes prepared under your own eyes. the ear is pleasingly titillated by the tune of the frying-pan, the smell of good things stimulates desire and quickens the imagination, and the very preliminaries are so agreeable, that the traveller would not exchange them for the most magnificent banquet in the world. the quantity of snow that had fallen during those two days retarded our speed. a man rode on before the carriage and carefully sounded the ground, for the metel had filled up the holes and ditches, and obliterated all landmarks. nothing can be more frightful than those snowy wastes recently swept and tossed by furious winds. all trace of man's existence and his works, have disappeared beneath those white billows heaped upon each other like those of the ocean in a storm. how well we could appreciate, in those long days we spent in plodding through the snow, the horrible sufferings of our poor soldiers, perishing by thousands in the fatal retreat of ! the thought of their misery smote upon our hearts, and forbade us to complain, warmly clad as we were, drawn by stout horses, and having all we required done for us by others. as we approached kherson post-sledges began to show themselves; several of them shot by us with travellers wrapped up to the eyes in their fur cloaks. these sledges are very low, and hold at most two persons. it very often happens that the body part upsets without the driver's perceiving it; the accident is not at all dangerous; but it must be exceedingly annoying to the traveller, as he rolls in the snow, to see his sledge borne away from him at full speed, leaving him no help for it but to follow on foot. if the driver does not take the precaution to look back from time to time, the traveller may chance to run all the way to the next station, and it may be imagined in what a plight he arrives there. when the accident happens by night the case is still more serious. many russians have told us that they had thus lost their way, and only after a day or two's search had found the station where their sledge had arrived empty. nothing, indeed, is more common than to lose one's way in the steppes, nor is it at all necessary to that end that one should fall out of his sledge. we ourselves were once in danger of roaming about all night in the neighbourhood of kherson in search of our road, which we could not find. a very dense fog surprised us at sunset, scarcely five versts from the town. for a long time we went on at random, not knowing whether we were going north or south, and heaven knows where we should have found ourselves at last, if we had not caught the sound of horses' bells. the travellers put us on the right way, and told us it was ten o'clock, and we had twelve versts between us and kherson. chapter xxxiv. departure for the crimea--balaclava--visit to the monastery of st. george--sevastopol--the imperial fleet. after a winter spent in the pleasures of repose, we left odessa at the end of april to visit the crimea, on board the _julia_, a handsome brig, owned and commanded by m. taitbout de marigny. our departure was extremely brilliant. the two cannons of the _julia_, and those of the _little mary_, that was to sail in company with us, announced to the whole town that we were about to weigh anchor. our passage could not fail to be agreeable under such a captain as ours. m. taitbout de marigny, consul of the netherlands, joins to the varied acquirements of the man of science all the accomplishments of the artist and man of the world. the voyage was very short, but full of chances and incidents; we had sea-sickness, squalls, clear moonlight nights, and a little of all the pains and pleasures of the sea. on the second morning, the sun shining brightly, we began to discern the coast of that land, surnamed inhospitable by the ancients, by reason of the horrible custom of its inhabitants to massacre every stranger whom chance or foul weather led thither. the woes of orestes alone would suffice to render the tauris celebrated. who is there that has not been moved by that terrible and pathetic drama, of which the brother and sister were the hero and heroine on this desert shore! as soon as i could distinguish the line of rocks that vaguely marked the horizon, i began to look for cape parthenike, on which tradition places the temple of the goddess of whom iphigenia was the priestess, and where she was near immolating her brother. with the captain's aid i at last descried on a point of rock at a great distance from us a solitary chapel, which i was informed was dedicated to the virgin. what a contrast between the gentle worship of mary and that of the sanguinary taura, who exacted for offerings not the simple prayers and _ex voto_ of the mariner, but human victims! all this part of the coast is sterile and desert: a wall of rock extended before us, and seemed to shut us out from the peninsula so often conquered and ravaged by warlike and commercial nations. richly endowed by nature, the tauris, chersonese, or crimea, has always been coveted by the people of europe and asia. pastoral nations have contended for possession of its mountains; commercial nations for its ports and its renowned bosphorus; warlike peoples have pitched their tents amid its magnificent valleys; all have coveted a footing on that soil, to which greek civilisation has attached such brilliant memories. during a part of the day the wind was contrary, and obliged us to make short tacks in view of the rocky wall; but at four o'clock a change of wind allowed the brig to approach the coast. the sea was like a magnificent basin reflecting in its transparent waters the great calcareous masses that overhung it. it was a fine spectacle; but our captain's serious expression of countenance, and the intentness with which he watched the sails, and directed the manoeuvres, plainly showed that our situation was one of difficulty, if not of danger. a boat was manned and sent off to explore the coast, and as its white sail gleamed at a distance in the sun, it looked like a seabird in search of its nest in the hollow of some rock. the _little mary_ imitated all our evolutions, skimming over the waves like a sea swallow. she shortened her trip at every tack, and kept closer and closer to us; and our captain's face grew more and more grave, until all at once to our great surprise the rock opened before us like a scene in a theatre, and afforded us a passage which two vessels could not have entered abreast. having got fairly through the channel, m. taitbout was himself again. this entrance he told us is very dangerous in stormy weather, and often impracticable even when the wind is but moderately fresh. the scene, however, on which it opens is extremely beautiful. the port is surrounded with mountains, the highest of which still bear traces of the old genoese dominion, and in front of the entrance is the pretty greek town of balaclava, with its balconied houses and trees rising in terraces one above the other. a ruined fortress overlooks the town: from that elevated point the genoese, once masters of this whole coast, scanned the sea like birds of prey, and woe to the foreign vessels tempest driven within their range! balaclava, with its greek population, its girdle of rocks, and its mild climate, resembles those little towns of the archipelago that are seen specking the horizon as one sails towards constantinople. while we remained on board waiting for the completion of the custom-house formalities, we were entertained with the most picturesque and animated scene imaginable. it was sunday, and the whole population was scattered over the shore and the adjoining heights. groups of sailors, arnaouts, and girls as gracefully formed as those of the grecian isles, were ascending the steep path to the fortress, or were dancing to the shrill music of a balalaika. all the balconies were filled with spectators, who were busy, no doubt, discussing the apparition of a brig in their port; for the trade of balaclava, so flourishing under the genoese, is now fallen to such a degree that the arrival of a single vessel is an event for the whole town. balaclava, the cembalo of the genoese, is now the humble capital of a little greek colony founded in the reign of catherine ii., and now numbering several villages with families. during her wars with the porte, the empress thought of appealing to the national sentiments of the greeks, and their hatred of the turks. the result answered her expectations, and russia soon had a large naval force that displayed the most signal bravery in all its encounters with the enemy. when the campaign against turkey was ended, the greek auxiliaries took part in the military operations in the crimea; and after the conquest of the peninsula, they were employed in suppressing the revolts of the tatars, and striking terror into them by the sanguinary cruelty of their expeditions. it was at that period the mussulmans of the crimea gave them the name of arnaouts, which they have retained ever since. the peninsula having been finally subjugated, the greeks were formed into a regimental colony, with the town and territory of balaclava for their residence. they now number fighting men, who are only employed in guarding the coasts. the colonist is only liable to be called out for active service during four months in the year; the other eight he has at his own disposal for the cultivation of his lands. each soldier has twenty-eight rubles yearly pay, and finds his own equipment. the day after our arrival at balaclava we made a boating excursion to examine the geology of the coast, and landed in a beautiful little cove lined with flowering trees and shrubs. on our return the boatmen made themselves coronals of hawthorn and blossoming apple sprays, and decorated the boat with garlands of the same, and in this festive style we made our entry into balaclava. in our poetic enthusiasm as we looked on the lovely sky, the placid sea, and the greek mariners, who thus retained on a foreign shore, and after the lapse of so many centuries, the cheerful customs of their ancestors, we could not help comparing ourselves to one of the numerous deputations that used every year to enter the pyræus, with their vessels' prows festooned with flowers, to take part in the brilliant festivals of athens. we bade adieu that day to our excellent friend m. taitbout de marigny, who continued his cruise to ialta, where we were again to meet him. we set out for the convent of st. george, our minds filled with classical reminiscences, which fortified us to endure the horrible bumping of our pereclatnoi. this vehicle is a sort of low four-wheeled cart, so narrow as barely to accommodate two persons, who have nothing to sit on but boxes and packages laid on a great heap of hay. it is no easy matter to keep one's balance on such a seat, especially when the frail equipage is galloped along from post to post at the full speed of three stout horses. yet this is the manner in which most russians travel, and often for a week together, day and night. the road from balaclava to the monastery presents no striking features; it runs over a vast plateau, as barren as the steppes. a little before sunset we were quite close to the convent, but saw nothing indicative of its existence, and were, therefore, not a little surprised when the driver jumped down and told us to alight. we thought he was making game of us, when he led the way into an arched passage, but when we reached the further end a cry of admiration escaped our lips, as we beheld the monastery with its cells backed against the rock, its green-domed church, its terraces and blooming gardens, suspended several hundred feet above the sea. long did we remain wrapt in contemplation of the magic effect produced by man's labour on a scene that looked in its savage and contorted aspect as if it had been destined only to be the domain of solitude. the russian and greek monasteries are far from displaying the monumental appearance of the western convents. they consist only of a group of small houses of one story, built without symmetry, and with nothing about them denoting the austere habits of a religious community. those poetic souls who find such food for meditation in the long galleries of the cloisters, could not easily be reconciled to such a disregard for form. the monks received us not like christians, but like downright pagans. the bishop, for whom we had letters, happening to be absent, we fell into the hands of two or three surly-looking friars, whose dirty dress and red faces indicated habits any thing but monastic. they confined us in a disgustingly filthy hole, where a few crazy chairs, two or three rough planks on tressels, and a nasty candle stuck in a bottle, were all the accommodation we obtained from their munificence. our dragoman could not even get coals to boil the kettle without paying for it double what it was worth. when we remonstrated with the monks their invariable answer was, that they were not bound to provide us with any thing but the bare furniture of the table. such was their notion of the duties of hospitality. with our bones aching from the pereclatnoi we were obliged to content ourselves with a few cups of tea by way of supper, and to lie down on the execrable planks they had the assurance to call a bed. fortunately, the bishop returned next day, and we got a cleaner room, mattresses, pillows, plenty to eat, and more respectful treatment on the part of the monks; but all this could not reconcile us to men who had such a curious way of practising the precepts of the gospel. the few days we spent among them were enough to enable us to judge of the degree of ignorance and moral degradation in which they live. religion which, in default of instruction, ought at least to mould their souls to the christian virtues, and to love of their neighbours, has no influence over them. they do not understand it, and their gross instincts find few impediments in the statutes of their order. sloth, drunkenness, and fanaticism, stand them instead of faith, love, and charity. the great steepness of this part of the coast renders the descent to the sea extremely difficult. we tried it, however, and with a good deal of hard work we scrambled down to the beach, which is here only a few yards wide. magnificent volcanic rocks form in this place a natural colonnade, the base of which is constantly washed by the sea, whilst every craggy point is tenanted by marine birds, the only living creatures to be seen. on our return to the convent we found it full of beggars who had come for the annual festival that was to be held on the day but one following. cake and fruit-sellers, gipsies and tatars, had set up their booths and tents on the plateau; every thing betokened that the solemnity would be very brilliant, but we had not the curiosity to wait for it. we set out that evening for stavropol, glad to get away from a convent in which hospitality is not bestowed freely, but sold. on leaving the monastery we proceeded first of all in the direction of cape khersonese, the most western point of this classic land, where flourished, for more than twelve centuries, the celebrated colony of kherson, founded by the heracleans years b. c. at present the only remains of all its greatness are a few heaps of shapeless stones; and strange to relate, the people who put the last hand to the destruction of whatever had escaped the barbarian invasions and the mussulman sway, was the same whose conversion to christianity in the person of the grand duke vladimir, was celebrated by kherson in . when the russians entered the crimea some considerable architectural remains were still standing, among which were the principal gate of the town and its two towers, and a large portion of the walls; besides which there were shafts and capitals of columns, numerous inscriptions and three churches of the lower empire, half buried under the soil. but muscovite vandalism quickly swept away all these remains. a quarantine establishment for the new port of sevastopol was constructed on the site of the ancient heraclean town, and all the existing vestiges of its monuments were rapidly demolished and carried away stone by stone; and but for the direct interference of the emperor alexander, who caused a few inscriptions to be deposited in the museum of nicolaief, there would be nothing remaining in our day to attest the existence of one of the most opulent cities of the northern coasts of the black sea. at a short distance from cape khersonese begins that succession of ports which render this point of the crimea so important to russia; one of them is sevastopol, whence the imperial fleet commands the whole of the black sea, and incessantly threatens the existence of the sultan's empire. between cape khersonese and the sevastopol roads which comprise three important ports, there are six distinct bays running inland parallel to each other. first come the double bay (_dvoinaia_) and the bay of the cossack (_cozatchaia_), between which the heracleans founded their first establishment, no trace of which now exists. then comes the round bay (_kruglaia_), that of the butts (_strelezkaia_), and that of the sands (_pestchannaia_). these five are all abandoned, and are only used by vessels driven by stress of weather to seek shelter in them. it was in the space between the bay of the sands and that more to the west where the quarantine is established, that the celebrated kherson once stood. a little beyond the quarantine cove, the traveller discovers sevastopol, situated on the slope of a hill between artillery and south bays, the first two ports on the right hand as you enter the main roads. the position of the town thus built in an amphitheatre, renders its whole plan discernible at one view, and gives it a very grand appearance from a distance. its barracks and stores, the extensive buildings of the admiralty, the numerous churches, and vast ship-building docks and yards, attest the importation of this town, the creation of which dates only from the arrival of the russians in the crimea. the interior, though not quite corresponding to the brilliant panorama it presents from a distance, is yet worthy of the great naval station. the streets are large, the houses handsome, and the population, in consequence of an imperial ukase which excludes the jews from its territory, is much less repulsive than that of odessa, kherson, iekaterinoslav, &c. the port of sevastopol is unquestionably one of the most remarkable in europe. it owes all its excellence to nature, which has here, without the aid of art, provided a magnificent roadstead with ramifications, forming so many basins admirably adapted for the requirements of a naval station. the whole of this noble harbour may be seen at once from the upper part of the town. the great roadstead first attracts attention. it lies east and west, stretching seven kilometres (four miles and three-quarters) inland, with a mean breadth of yards, and serves as a station for all the active part of the fleet. it forms the medium of communication between sevastopol and the interior of the peninsula. the northern shore presents only a line of cliffs of no interest, but on the southern shore the eye is detained by the fine basins formed there by nature. to the east, at the very foot of the hill on which the town stands, is south bay, in length upwards of mètres, and completely sheltered by high limestone cliffs. it is here the vessels are rigged and unrigged; and here, too, lies a long range of pontoons and vessels past service, some of which are converted into magazines, and others into lodgings for some thousand convicts who are employed in the works of the arsenal. among these numerous veterans of a naval force that is almost always idle, the traveller beholds with astonishment the colossal ship, the _paris_, formerly mounting guns, and which was, down to , the finest vessel in the imperial fleet. beyond south bay, and communicating with it, is the little creek in which the government is constructing the most considerable works of the port, and has been engaged for many years in forming an immense dock with five distinct basins, capable of accommodating three ships of the line and two frigates, while simultaneously undergoing repairs. the original plan for this great work was devised by m. raucourt, a french engineer, who estimated the total cost at about , , rubles. the magnitude of this sum alarmed the government, but at the instance of count voronzof, they accepted the proposals of an english engineer, who asked only , , , and promised to complete the whole within five years. the work was begun on the th of june, ; but when we visited sevastopol, some years after the first stone had been laid, the job was not half finished, and the expenses already exceeded , , rubles. the execution of the basins seems, however, to be very far from corresponding to the enormous expenses they have already occasioned, and it is strange, indeed, that a weak and friable limestone should have been employed in hydraulic constructions of such importance. the angles of the walls, it is true, are of granite or porphyry, but this odd association of heterogeneous materials conveys, in itself, the severest condemnation of the mode of construction which has been adopted. highly favoured as is the port of sevastopol with regard to the form and the security of its bays, it yet labours under very serious inconveniences. the waters swarm with certain worms that attack the ships' bottoms, and often make them unserviceable in two or three years. to avoid this incurable evil, the government determined to fill the basins with fresh water, by changing the course of the little river, tchernoi retchka, which falls into the head of the main gulf. three aqueducts and two tunnels, built like the rest of the works in chalk, and forming part of the artificial channel, were nearly completed in ; but about that period the engineers endured a very sad discomfiture, it being then demonstrated that the worms they wanted to get rid of were produced by nothing else than the muddy waters which the tchernoi retchka pours into the harbour.[ ] artillery bay, which bounds the town on the west, is used only by trading vessels. this and careening bay, the most eastern of all, are not inferior in natural advantages to the two others we have been speaking of; but we have nothing more particular to mention respecting them. after discussing the harbours and the works belonging to them, we are naturally led to glance at the war-fleet, and the famous fortifications of which the russians are so proud, and which they regard as a marvel of modern art. in , when the july revolution was threatening to upset the whole _status quo_ of europe, a london journal stated in an article on the black sea and southern russia, that nothing could be easier than for a few well-appointed vessels to set fire to the imperial fleet in the port of sevastopol. the article alarmed the emperor's council to the highest degree, and orders were immediately issued for the construction of immense defensive works. four new forts were constructed, making a total of eleven batteries. forts constantine and alexander were erected for the defence of the great harbour, the one on the north, the other on the west side of artillery bay; and the admiralty and the paul batteries were to play on vessels attempting to enter south bay, or ships' bay. these four forts, consisting each of three tiers of batteries, and each mounting from to pieces of artillery, constitute the chief defences of the place, and appear, at first sight, truly formidable. but here again, the reality does not correspond with the outer appearance, and we are of opinion that all these costly batteries are more fitted to astonish the vulgar in time of peace, than to awe the enemy in war. in the first place their position at some height above the level of the sea, and their three stories appear to us radically bad, and practical men will agree with us that a hostile squadron might make very light of the three tiers of guns which, when pointed horizontally, could, at most, only hit the rigging of the ships. the internal arrangements struck us as equally at variance with all the rules of military architecture: each story consists of a suite of rooms opening one upon the other, and communicating by a small door, with an outer gallery that runs the whole length of the building. all these rooms, in which the guns are worked, are so narrow, and the ventilation is so ill-contrived, that we are warranted by our own observation in asserting that a few discharges would make it extremely difficult for the artillerymen to do their duty. but a still more serious defect than those we have named, and one which endangers the whole existence of the works, consists in the general system adopted for their construction. here the improvidence of the government has been quite as great as with regard to the dock basins: for the imperial engineers have thought proper to employ small pieces of coarse limestone in the masonry of three-storied batteries, mounting from to guns. the works, too, have been constructed with so little care, and the dimensions of the walls and arches are so insufficient, that it is easy to see at a glance, that all these batteries must inevitably be shaken to pieces whenever their numerous artillery shall be brought into play. the trials that have been made in fort constantine, have already demonstrated the correctness of this opinion, wide rents having been there occasioned in the walls by a few discharges. finally, all the forts labour under the disadvantage of being utterly defenceless on the land side. thinking only of attacks by sea, the government has quite overlooked the great facility with which an enemy may land on any part of the coast of the khersonese. so, besides that the batteries are totally destitute of artillery and ditches on the land side, the town itself is open on all points, and is not defended by a single redoubt. we know not what works have been planned or executed since ; but at the period of our visit a force of some thousand men, aided by a maritime demonstration, would have had no sort of difficulty in forcing their way into the interior of the place, and setting fire to the fleet and the arsenals. we have now to speak of the offensive strength of the port of sevastopol, that famous fleet always in readiness to sail against constantinople. the effective of the black sea fleet, in , was as follows:-- ships of the line , of guns, the rest of frigates mounting guns corvettes " brigs " to schooners cutters steamers tenders the largest tenders are of tons' burden, the smallest thirty. the crews, making together fourteen battalions, ought to be , strong. but we know that in russia official figures are always much higher than the reality. we think we cannot be far wrong in setting down the actual strength at or men. like every thing else in russia, the ships of war look very imposing at first sight, but will not bear a very close scrutiny. after what we have stated respecting the venality of the administrative departments, it is easy to conceive the malversations that must abound in the naval arsenals. in vain may the government lavish its money and order the purchase of the needful materials; its intentions are sure to be baffled by the corruption and rapacity of its servants. the vessels are generally built of worthless materials, and there is no kind of peculation but is practised in their construction. we have mentioned the _paris_ as an instance of the short duration of russian ships: and all the vessels of the same period are in nearly as bad a plight. a single cruise has been enough to make them unserviceable. we must, however, admit that the naval boards are not alone to blame for this rapid destruction. according to the information we have received, it appears that the ships are built generally of pine or fir; but every one knows that these kinds of wood, produced in moist places and low bottoms, cannot possess the solidity required in naval architecture. before quitting sevastopol we made an excursion to the head of the great bay, to visit the remains of a once celebrated town, of which nothing now remains but some ruins known under the name inkermann. we explored with some interest a long suite of crypts, some of which seem to belong to the remotest antiquity, while others evidently date from the lower empire. among the latter we particularly noticed a large chapel, excavated wholly in the rock, and presenting in its interior all the characteristics of the byzantine churches. above all these subterraneous edifices, on the highest part of the rocks, stand some fragments of walls, the sole remains of the castle and town that formerly crowned those heights. the ruins appear to occupy the site of the ancient eupatorion of strabo, which afterwards, under the name of theodori, became the seat of a little greek principality dependent on the lower empire. it was taken by the turks in , and soon afterwards totally destroyed. footnotes: [ ] see notes at the end of the volume. chapter xxxv. bagtche serai--historical revolutions of the crimea--the palace of the khans--countess potocki. after our excursion to inkermann we left sevastopol the same day, glad to quit the russians and their naval capital for bagtche serai, that ancient city, which previously to the muscovite conquest might still vie in power and opulence with the great cities of the east. even now, though much decayed, bagtche serai is the most interesting town in the crimea. the road which leads to it runs parallel with a mountain chain, and commands very beautiful scenery, which we beheld in all the fresh luxuriance of may. the hills and valleys were clothed with forests of peach, almond, apple, and apricot trees in full blossom, and the south wind came to us loaded with their fragrance. we had many a flying glimpse of landscapes we would willingly have paused to admire in detail, but the pereclatnoi whirled us along, and towns, hillsides, winding brooks, farms, meadows, and tatar villages shot past us with magic rapidity. notwithstanding a temperature of ° reaumer, the day appeared to us very short. yet we were impatient to see bagtche serai, its palace and its fountains which have been sung by pushkin, the russian nightingale; and this impatience, which increased as we approached our journey's end, prevented us from visiting different spots which less hasty travellers would not have disdained. every mountain, valley, or village has some peculiar interest of its own. there were aqueducts, old bridges, and half-ruined towers in every direction to tell of an ancient civilisation; but all these interested us less, perhaps, than the modest dwelling in which pallas long resided, and where he ended his days. bagtche serai has completely retained its national character in consequence of an ukase of catherine ii., empowering the tatars to retain exclusive possession of their own capital. you would fancy yourself in the heart of the east, in walking through the narrow streets of the town, the mosques, shops, and cemeteries of which so much resemble those of the old quarters of constantinople. but it is especially in the courts, gardens, and kiosks of the harem of the old palace, that the traveller may well believe himself transported into some delicious abode of aleppo or bagdad. it was in , that the mongol or tatar hordes led by batu khan, grandson of genghis khan, after invading russia, poland, and hungary, made their first appearance in the crimea, and laid the foundations of the tatar kingdom, which was soon to attain a high degree of power. the genoese about the same time took possession of several important points on the southern coast, and founded caffa and other towns, which became extremely flourishing seats of commerce. their prosperity lasted until , when the turks, already masters of constantinople, drove the genoese out of the crimea, and took under their protection the khans of little tatary, who became vassals of the porte, whilst retaining their absolute sway over the crimea. from that time until the eighteenth century, the history of the peninsula is but a long series of contests between the ottomans, the tatars, and the muscovites. russia, coveting this fine country, took advantage of its continual revolutions, and sent a large army thither in , for the purpose of putting the young prince saheb guerai on the throne. by this stroke of policy, she took the crimea out of the hands of the porte, and brought it under her own sole protection. in return for the empress's good offices, saheb guerai ceded to her the towns of kertch, yeni kaleh, and kalbouroun, very advantageously situated on the dniepr. in this way russia took the first steps towards the celebrated treaty of kainardji of , which conceded to her the free navigation of all the seas dependent on the turkish dominions. but it was not until , that her sway was irrevocably established in the peninsula, and the tatars submitted to a yoke against which they had so often and so boldly struggled. during the brilliant period in which the khans reigned in the crimea, the seat of government alternated between eski krim and tchoufout kaleh, until the beginning of the sixteenth century, when bagtche serai was made the capital. one would hardly recognise in the simple and orderly tatars of the present day, the descendants of those fierce mongols who imposed their sway on a part of western europe. there is a great difference between the tatars of the coast and those of the mountains. the former have been rendered covetous, knavish, and treacherous by their continual intercourse with the russians; whilst their mountain brethren have retained the patriarchal manners that distinguish the asiatic peoples. their hospitality is most generous. the tatar's best room, and the best which his house and his table can afford, are offered to his guest with a cordial alacrity that forbids the very idea of a refusal; and he would deem it an insult to be offered any other payment than a friendly grasp of the hand. the tatar women, without being handsome, display a timid grace that makes them singularly engaging. in public they wear a long white veil, the two ends of which hang over their shoulders, and they are particularly remarkable for their complete freedom from every appearance of vulgarity. we saw none at bagtche serai, but those of the poorer classes; the women of the mourzas (nobles), and beys (princes) live quite retired and never show themselves in public. but to return to the palace of bagtche serai. it is no easy task to describe the charm of this mysterious and splendid abode, in which the voluptuous khans forgot all the cares of life: it is not to be done, as in the case of one of our palaces, by analysing the style, arrangement, and details of the rich architecture, and reading the artist's thought in the regularity, grace, and noble simplicity of the edifice: all this is easy to understand and to describe: such beauties are more or less appreciable by every one. but one must be something of a poet to appreciate a turkish palace; its charms must be sought, not in what one sees, but in what one feels. i have heard persons speak very contemptuously of bagtche serai. "how," said they, "can any one apply the name of palace to that assemblage of wooden houses, daubed with coarse paintings, and furnished only with divans and carpets?" and these people were right in their way. the positive cast of their minds disabling them from seeing beauty in any thing but rich materials, well-defined forms and highly-finished workmanship, bagtche serai must be to them only a group of shabby houses adorned with paltry ornaments, and fit only for the habitation of miserable tatars. situated in the centre of the town, in a valley enclosed between hills of unequal heights, the palace (serai) covers a considerable space, and is enclosed within walls, and a small stream deeply entrenched. the bridge which affords admission into the principal court is guarded by a post of russian veterans. the spacious court is planted with poplars and lilacs, and adorned with a beautiful turkish fountain, shaded by willows; its melancholy murmur harmonises well with the loneliness of the place. to the right as you enter are some buildings, one of which is set apart for the use of those travellers who are fortunate enough to gain admittance into the palace. to the left are the mosque, the stables, and the trees of the cemetery, which is divided from the court by a wall. we first visited the palace properly so called. its exterior displays the usual irregularity of eastern dwellings; but its want of symmetry is more than compensated for by its wide galleries, its bright decorations, its pavilions so lightly fashioned that they seem scarcely attached to the body of the building, and by a profusion of large trees that shade it on all sides. these all invest it with a charm, that in my opinion greatly surpasses the systematic regularity of our princely abodes. the interior is an embodied page out of the arabian nights. the first hall we entered contains the celebrated fountain of tears, the theme of pushkin's beautiful verses. it derives its melancholy name from the sweet sad murmur of its slender jets as they fall on the marble of the basin. the sombre and mysterious aspect of the hall, further augments the tendency of the spectator's mind to forget reality for the dreams of the imagination. the foot falls noiselessly on fine egyptian mats; the walls are inscribed with sentences from the koran, written in gold on a black ground in those odd-looking turkish characters, that seem more the caprices of an idle fancy than vehicles of thought. from the hall we entered a large reception-room with a double row of windows of stained glass, representing all sorts of rural scenes. the ceiling and doors are richly gilded, and the workmanship of the latter is very fine. broad divans covered with crimson velvet run all round the room. in the middle there is a fountain playing in a large porphyry basin. every thing is magnificent in this room, except the whimsical manner in which the walls are painted. all that the most fertile imagination could conceive in the shape of isles, villages, harbours, fabulous castles, and so forth, is huddled together promiscuously on the walls, without any more regard for perspective than for geography. nor is this all: there are niches over the doors in which are collected all sorts of children's toys, such as wooden houses a few inches high, fruit trees, models of ships, little figures of men twisted into a thousand contortions, &c. these singular curiosities are arranged on receding shelves for the greater facility of inspection, and are carefully protected by glass cases. one of the last khans, we were assured, used to shut himself up in this room every day to admire these interesting objects. such childishness, common among the orientals, would lead us to form a very unfavourable opinion of their intelligence, if it was not redeemed by their instinctive love of beauty, and the poetic feeling which they possess in a high degree. for my part i heartily forgave the khans for having painted their walls so queerly, in consideration of the charming fountain that plashed on the marble, and the little garden filled with rare flowers adjoining the saloon. the hall of the divan is of royal magnificence; the mouldings of the ceiling, in particular, are of exquisite delicacy. we passed through other rooms adorned with fountains and glowing colours, but that which most interested us was the apartment of the beautiful countess potocki. it was her strange fortune to inspire with a violent passion one of the last khans of the crimea, who carried her off and made her absolute mistress of his palace, in which she lived ten years, her heart divided between her love for an infidel, and the remorse that brought her prematurely to the grave. the thought of her romantic fate gave a magic charm to every thing we beheld. the russian officer who acted as our cicerone pointed out to us a cross carved on the chimney of the bed-room. the mystic symbol, placed above a crescent, eloquently interpreted the emotions of a life of love and grief. what tears, what inward struggles, and bitter recollections had it not witnessed! we passed through i know not how many gardens and inner yards, surrounded with high walls, to visit the various pavilions, kiosks, and buildings of all sorts comprised within the limits of the palace. the part occupied by the harem contains such a profusion of rose-trees and fountains as to merit the pleasing name of the little valley of roses. nothing can be more charming than this tatar building, surrounded by blossoming trees. i felt a secret pleasure in pressing the divans on which had rested the fair forms of mussulman beauties, as they breathed the fresh air from the fountains in voluptuous repose. no sound from without can reach this enchanted retreat, where nothing is heard but the rippling of the waters, and the song of the nightingales. we counted more than twenty fountains in the courts and gardens; they all derive their supply from the mountains, and the water is of extreme coolness. a tower of considerable height, with a terrace fronted with gratings that can be raised or lowered at pleasure, overlooks the principal court. it was erected to enable the khan's wives to witness, unseen, the martial exercises practised in the court. the prospect from the terrace is admirable; immediately below it you have a bird's-eye view of the labyrinth of buildings, gardens, and other enclosures. further on the town of bagtche serai rises gradually on a sloping amphitheatre of hills. the sounds of the whole town, concentrated and reverberated within the narrow space, reach you distinctly. the panorama is peculiarly pleasing at the close of the day, when the voices of the muezzins, calling to prayer from the minarets, mingle with the bleating of the flocks returning from pasture, and the cries of the shepherds. after seeing the palace we repaired to the mosque and to the cemetery in which are the tombs of all the khans who have reigned in the crimea. there as at constantinople, i admired the wonderful art with which the orientals disguise the gloomy idea of death under fresh and gladsome images. who can yield to dismal thoughts as he breathes a perfumed air, listens to the waters of a sparkling fountain, and follows the little paths, edged with violets, that lead to lilac groves bending their flagrant blossoms over tombs adorned with rich carpets and gorgeous inscriptions? the tatar who has charge of this smiling abode of death, prompted by the poetic feeling that is lodged in the bosom of every oriental, brought me a nosegay plucked from the tomb of a georgian, the beloved wife of the last khan. was it not a touching thing to see this humble guardian of the cemetery comprehend instinctively that flowers, associated with the memory of a young woman, could not be indifferent to another of her sex and age? some isolated pavilions contain the tombs of khans of most eminent renown. they are much more ornate than the others, and the care with which they are kept up testifies the pious veneration of the tatars. carpets, cashmeres, lamps burning continually, and inscriptions in letters of gold, combine to give grandeur to these monuments, which yet are intended to commemorate only names almost forgotten. such is a brief sketch of this ancient abode of the khans, which was carefully repaired by the emperor alexander. he found it in such a state of disorder and neglect, that it was probable nothing would remain in a few years of a dwelling with which is associated almost the whole past history of the crimea. but alexander, whose temperament was so well adapted to appreciate the melancholy beauty of the spot, immediately on his return to st. petersburg sent a very able man to bagtche serai, with orders to restore the palace to the state in which it had been in the time of the khans. since then the imperial family has sometimes exchanged the dreary magnificence of the st. petersburg palaces for the rosy bowers and sunny clime of the tatar serai. in speaking of this tatar town, i must not forget to mention a man known throughout the crimea for his eccentricity. it is about twelve years since a dutchman of the name of vanderschbrug, a retired civil engineer in the imperial service, arrived in the tatar capital with the intention of settling there. his motive for this act of misanthropy has never been ascertained; all that is known is, that his resolution has remained unshaken. since his installation among the tatars, major vanderschbrug has never set his foot outside the town, though his family reside in simpheropol. his retiring pension, amounting to some hundred rubles, allows him to lead a life, which to many persons would seem very uninviting, but which is not devoid of a certain charm. the complete independence he has secured for himself, makes up to him, in some sort, for the void he must feel in the loss of family affection. he lives like a philosopher in his little cottage, with his cow, his poultry, his pencils, some books, and an old housekeeper. he speaks the language of the tatars like one of themselves, and his thorough knowledge of the country, and the originality of his mind render his conversation very agreeable. all over the country he is known only by the name of the hermit of bagtche serai. the tatars hold him in great respect, often refer their disputes to his decision, and implicitly follow his advice. we breakfasted with him, and seeing him apparently so contented with his lot, we thought how little is sufficient to make a man happy when his desires are limited. major vanderschbrug beguiles his solitude with reading and the arts, for which he has preserved a taste. he showed us some fine water-coloured drawings he had made, and an old volume of jean jacques rousseau, which he has kept for many years as a precious treasure. to all the objections we raised against the strange exile to which he condemned himself, he replied that ennui had not yet invaded his humble dwelling. before bidding farewell to bagtche serai, we went in company with our recluse to visit the valley of jehoshaphat and the famous mountain of tchoufout kaleh,[ ] which has been for several centuries the exclusive property of certain jews, known by the name of karaïmes or karaïtes. they are a sect who still adhere to the law of moses, but who separated from the general body, as some writers suppose, several centuries before the christian era. according to other authorities, the separation did not occur until a.d. . there is a marked difference between them and the other jews. the simplicity of their manners, their probity and industry give them a strong claim to the traveller's respect. at six in the morning we mounted our little tatar horses, and began to ascend the steep road that winds through a vast cemetery, covering the whole side of the mountain. the melancholy aspect of the tombs, covered with hebrew inscriptions, accords with the desolation of the scene. of the whole population, that during the lapse of ages have lived and died on this rock, nothing remains but tombs, and a dozen families that persist, from religious motives, in dwelling among ruins. in the time of the khans, the karaïtes of tchoufout kaleh were stoutly confined to their rock, being only allowed to pass the business hours of the day in the tatar capital, returning every evening to their mountain. when one of them arrived opposite the palace on horseback, he was bound to alight and proceed on foot until he was out of sight. but since the conquest by the russians, the karaïtes are free to reside in bagtche serai, and they have gradually left the mountain, with the exception, as i have stated, of a few families who regard it as a sacred duty to abide on the spot where their forefathers dwelt. considering the almost inaccessible position of the town, its want of water, the sterility of the soil, and the loneliness of the inhabitants, we cannot fail to be struck by the thirst for freedom that made the karaïtes of yore choose such a site, and the constancy of the families that still cling to it. tchoufout kaleh is built entirely on the bare rock, and the mountain is so steep that in the only place where it admits of access, it has been necessary to cut flights of steps several hundred feet long. as you ascend, huge masses of overhanging rocks seem to threaten you with destruction, and when you enter the ruined town, the sepulchral silence and desolation of its dilapidated streets make a painful impression on the mind. no inhabitant comes forth to greet the stranger or direct him on his way. the only living beings we saw abroad were famished dogs that howled most dismally. besides the interest we felt in this acropolis of the middle ages, we had a still stronger motive for our journey to tchoufout kaleh; namely, to see a poet who has resided from his youth upwards on that dreary rock. we had heard a great deal about it from m. taitbout de marigny and from major vanderschbrug; the first point, therefore, towards which we bent our steps was the rabbi's dwelling, built like an eagle's nest on the point of a rock. being shown into a small room furnished with books and maps, we found ourselves in presence of a little old man with a long white beard who received us with the grave and easy dignity of the orientals. his features were of the most purely jewish cast. with the help of the major, who acted as our interpreter, we were enabled to carry on a long conversation, and to admire the varied knowledge possessed by a man so completely cut off from the world. is it not wonderful that a person in such a position, and so totally deprived of all necessary appliances, should undertake the gigantic task of writing the history of the karaïtes from the time of moses to our days? yet thus our rabbi has been employed for upward of twenty years, undismayed by the difficulties of all kinds that lie in his way. it was not a little moving to see a man of great intellect, vast erudition, and poetic imagination, wearing out on a desolate rock the remains of a life which would have been so fair and so productive if passed in more active scenes. he showed us several sacred poems in manuscript written in his youth. how much i regretted that i could not read the productions of such a poet. he lives like a patriarch surrounded by ten or a dozen children of all ages who enliven and embellish his solitude. several little rooms communicating together by galleries form his dwelling. it is very humble, but the rabbi's remarkable physiognomy, and the oriental costume of his wife and daughters, impart a charm even to so rude a tenement. he escorted us to the synagogue, a small building, long left to solitude. we saw, too, not without a lively interest, the grave of a khan's daughter, who, in the time of the genoese rule, forsook the koran for the law of the christians, and died at the age of eighteen among those who had converted her. like every thing else about it, it was in a state of neglect and decay. all the lower part of the mountain, and also a deep narrow valley stretching eastward of tchoufout kaleh are covered with tombs, to which circumstance the situation owes its name of valley of jehoshaphat. opposite the karaïte town is the celebrated convent of the assumption, which is annually visited in the month of august by more than twenty thousand pilgrims. its cells excavated in the rock have a very curious appearance from a distance. some wooden flights of stairs on the outside of the rock lead to the several stages of this singular convent inhabited only by a few monks. on our return to bagtche serai we noticed several crypts in the rock which are the haunt of a large number of tsiganes. nowhere does this vagrant people present a more disgusting aspect than in this locality. their horrible infirmities, distorted limbs, and indescribable wretchedness make one almost doubt that they can belong to humanity. we proceeded the next day to simpheropol where we were to pass some days. footnotes: [ ] tchoufout kaleh, formerly called kirkov, was for a long series of years the residence of the khans, until mengle gherai quitted it for bagtche serai, in . chapter xxxvi. simpheropol--kakolez--visit to princess adel bey--excursion to mangoup kaleh. under the tatars simpheropol was the second town of the crimea, and the residence of the kalga sultan, whose functions were nearly equivalent to those of vice-khan. he exercised the regency of the country on the death of the khan, until his successor was nominated by the porte. the kalga's court was composed of the same functionaries as that of bagtche serai, and his authority extended over all the regions north of the crimea mountains. simpheropol was then adorned with palaces, mosques, and fine gardens, few traces of which now remain. the tortuous streets, high walls, and rose thickets of the old city, have given place to the cold monotony of the russian towns. it is the capital of the government of the crimea, with a population of about souls, of whom are russians, tatars, strangers, and gipsies. its plan is large enough to comprise ten times as many houses as it possesses; but, at least, it retains its salghir, the banks of which are covered with the finest orchards in the crimea. but instead of building the new town in the valley, it has been set at the top of a great plateau where its few houses and its disproportionately wide streets present no kind of character. it is with extreme pleasure, therefore, that after wandering through the streets in which the sun's rays beat down without any thing to break their force, one finds himself under the cool verdant shades that fringe the salghir, with the pretty country houses that peep out from the orchards. we made many excursions in the vicinity, and were above all pleased with the beautiful landscapes in the valley of the alma. in a ride on horseback to visit some rocks of an interesting geological character, we crossed the river eighteen times in the space of three hours: this may afford an idea of the multitude of meanders it makes before continuing its course to the black sea. bagtche serai being on the road to karolez, we could not resist the pleasure of once more seeing its delightful palace. we passed the evening in one of the large galleries, admiring the magic appearance of the buildings and gardens by moonlight. the deep stillness of the place; the mysterious aspect of the principal edifice, one part of which was completely in the shade, whilst the other, with its coloured windows and its open balconies, received the full rays of the moon; the masses of foliage in the gardens, and the melancholy sounds of the fountain; all this accompanied by the imaginative relations of our eccentric friend, the major, made an indelible impression on our minds. at bagtche serai we finally exchanged the pereclatnoi for tatar horses, the serviceable qualities of which had commended themselves to us in many trials. our cavalcade made a grotesque appearance as we rode out of the palace. for my own part i looked oddly enough, perched on an enormously high tatar saddle in my caspian costume, with my parasol in my hand. hommaire wore with oriental gravity the persian cap, the girdle and the weapons, to which he had become accustomed in his long wanderings. but the queerest figure of all was our dragoman. half-a-dozen leather bags containing provisions dangled at his horse's flanks; my poor straw bonnet, which i had been obliged to abandon for a round hat, hung at the pummel of his saddle, and in addition to all this accoutrement he carried in his hand a large white canvass umbrella to screen him from the sun. two tatar horsemen followed us, carrying likewise their contingent of baggage. after some hours' riding through a lovely country, intersected with streams, valleys, and numerous orchards, we arrived in the evening at karolez, a tatar village, lost among mountains, in the valley of the same name, which is one of the most delightful spots in the beautiful crimea, so rich in picturesque scenes. though it does not belong to the southern coast, and consequently has no maritime traffic, karolez, nevertheless, possesses a romantic attraction, which every year brings to it numerous visitors. this is owing to its vicinity to mangoup kaleh, the abundance of its waters, the mountains that encompass the valley with a line of battlemented walls, as if nature had been pleased in a sportive mood to imitate art, whilst yet retaining her own more majestic proportions; and, lastly, the merit of belonging to the princess adel bey, whose beauty, though invisible has inspired many a poet. i had taken care before leaving simpheropol to furnish myself with a letter from the governor to the princess, in order to obtain an interview which might enable me to judge whether the beauty of this tatar lady and her daughters was as great as fame reported. the question had been often agitated since our arrival in the crimea; it may, therefore, be imagined how desirous i was to resolve it. but in spite of my letter of introduction, my admission to the palace was still very problematical. many russian ladies had tried in vain to enter it; for the princess, while exercising the noblest hospitality, was seldom disposed to satisfy the curiosity of her guests. though the law of mahomet respecting the seclusion of women is less rigidly observed among the tatars of the crimea than among the turks of constantinople, rich ladies do not often pass the threshold of their own dwellings, and when they do they are always closely veiled. one of my friends from simpheropol, who had proceeded the day before to the princess's, having giving notice of our coming, we were received in the most brilliant style. the guest house was prepared with the ostentation which the orientals are fond of displaying on all occasions. a double line of servants of all ages was drawn up in the vestibule when we dismounted; and one of the oldest and most richly dressed ushered us into a saloon arranged in the fashion of the east, with gaily painted walls and red silk divans that reminded us of the delightful rooms in the palace of the khans. the princess's son, an engaging boy of twelve years of age, who spoke russian very well, attached himself to us, obligingly translated our orders to the domestics, and took care that we wanted for nothing. i gave him my letter, which he immediately carried to his mother, and soon afterwards he came and told me, to my great satisfaction, that she would receive me when she had finished her toilette. in the eagerness of my curiosity i now counted every minute, until an officer, followed by an old woman in a veil, came to introduce me into the mysterious palace of which i had as yet seen only the lofty outer wall. my husband, as arranged between us beforehand, attempted to follow us, and seeing that no impediment was offered, he stepped without ceremony through the little door into the park, crossed the latter, boldly ascended a terrace adjoining the palace, and, at last, found himself, not without extreme surprise at his good fortune, in a little room that seemed to belong to the princess's private apartments. until then no male stranger except count voronzof had ever entered the palace; the flattering and unexpected exception which the princess made in favour of my husband, might, therefore, lead us to hope that her complaisance would not stop there. but we were soon undeceived. the officer who had ushered us into the palace, after having treated us to iced water, sweetmeats and pipes, took my husband by the hand, and led him out of the room with very significant celerity. he had no sooner disappeared than a curtain was raised at the end of the room, and a woman of striking beauty entered, dressed in a rich costume. she advanced to me with an air of remarkable dignity, took both my hands, kissed me on the two cheeks, and sat down beside me, making me many demonstrations of friendship. she wore a great deal of rouge; her eyelids were painted black and met over the nose, giving her countenance a certain sternness, that, nevertheless, did not destroy its pleasing effect. a furred velvet vest fitted tight to her still elegant figure. altogether her appearance surpassed what i had conceived of her beauty. we spent a quarter of an hour closely examining each other, and interchanging as well as we could a few russian words that very insufficiently conveyed our thoughts. but in such cases, looks supply the deficiencies of speech, and mine must have told the princess with what admiration i beheld her. hers, i must confess, in all humility, seemed to express much more surprise than admiration at my travelling costume. what would i not have given to know the result of her purely feminine analysis of my appearance! i was even crossed in this _tête-à-tête_ by a serious scruple of conscience for having presented myself before her in male attire, which must have given her a strange notion of the fashions of europe. notwithstanding my desire to prolong my visit in hopes of seeing her daughters, the fear of appearing intrusive prompted me to take my leave; but checking me with a very graceful gesture, she said eagerly "_pastoy, pastoy_" (stay, stay), and clapped her hands several times. a young girl entered at the signal, and by her mistress's orders threw open a folding door, and immediately i was struck dumb with surprise and admiration by a most brilliant apparition. imagine, reader, the most exquisite sultanas of whom poetry and painting have ever tried to convey an idea, and still your conception will fall far short of the enchanting models i had then before me. there were three of them, all equally beautiful and graceful. two were clad in tunics of crimson brocade, adorned in front with broad gold lace. the tunics were open and disclosed beneath them cashmere robes, with very tight sleeves terminating in gold fringes. the youngest wore a tunic of azure blue brocade, with silver ornaments: this was the only difference between her dress and that of her sisters. all three had magnificent black hair escaping in countless tresses from a fez of silver filigree, set like a diadem over their ivory foreheads; they wore gold embroidered slippers and wide trousers drawn close at the ankle. i had never beheld skins so dazzlingly fair, eyelashes so long, or so delicate a bloom of youth. the calm repose that sat on the countenances of these lovely creatures, had never been disturbed by any profane glance. no look but their mother's had ever told them they were beautiful; and this thought gave them an inexpressible charm in my eyes. it is not in our europe, where women, exposed to the gaze of crowds, so soon addict themselves to coquetry, that the imagination could conceive such a type of beauty. the features of our young girls are too soon altered by the vivacity of their impressions, to allow the eye of the artist to discover in them that divine charm of purity and ignorance with which i was so struck in beholding my tatar princesses. after embracing me they retired to the end of the room where they remained standing in those graceful oriental attitudes which no woman in europe could imitate. a dozen attendants muffled in white muslin, were gathered round the door, gazing with respectful curiosity. their profiles, shown in relief on a dark ground, added to the picturesque character of the scene. this delightful vision lasted an hour. when the princess saw that i was decided on going away, she signified to me by signs that i should go and see the garden; but though grateful to her for this further mark of attention, i preferred immediately rejoining my husband, being impatient to relate to him all the details of this interview, with which i was completely dazzled. next morning we set out on horseback for mangoup kaleh, a mountain renowned throughout the country, and of which the inhabitants never speak but with veneration. goths, turks, and tatars have been by turns its possessors. owing to its almost impregnable position, it has played an important part in all the revolutions of the crimea. the town of mangoup, which appears to have been the residence of the gothic princes, was formerly a very considerable place. it had a bishop in . the turks took it and put a garrison in it in . twenty years afterwards it was entirely burnt down. the khans of the crimea next took possession of it, and let it gradually fall into decay. at the close of the last century, the population of this ancient town still consisted of some karaïte families; at present there remains no other trace of their existence than the tombs spread over the mountain side. for three hours we ascended the mountain by scarcely marked bridle roads, astonished at the confidence with which our horses walked up those steep slopes where there seemed hardly any hold for their feet. but the horses of the crimea are wonderfully surefooted, and if they can set down their feet anywhere, it is alike to them whether it is on a smooth plain or on the verge of a precipice. here, as at tchoufout kaleh, the mountain was covered with tombs; but these bore inscriptions in tatar as well as hebrew, showing that this deserted soil had formerly been trodden by more than one people. the ascent ended at a broad triangular plateau on the summit of the mountain, where the town once stood. it is now a barren spot, strewed all over with ruins. two sides of the plateau are perpendicular; the third was defended by a fortress, part of which is still standing. every thing on this mountain wears a grand and melancholy character. desolation has long taken it for its domain. nothing meets the eye but ruins, tombs, and a naked soil. and yet, notwithstanding the stern aspect of the place, it does not fill the soul with the same feelings of painful awe as tchoufout kaleh. this is because the ancient town of the karaïtes, all mutilated as it is by time and events, still retains a semblance of existence, and this alliance between life and death necessarily impresses the mind with a superstitious dread. at mangoup kaleh all human traces have been too long effaced to awaken painful thoughts. there one thinks not so much of men as of remote epochs, of the great events and numerous revolutions of which this rock has been the theatre. the façade of the fortress has withstood the slow attacks of time, though full of cracks, and the lofty walls appear still from a distance to protect mangoup kaleh. herds of tatar horses graze in complete freedom on the plateau, and drink from a large reservoir supplied by a spring that never fails in any season. as we were exploring the interior of what must have been the citadel, we came upon a clump of lilacs in full bloom among the ruins. i cannot tell the impression made on me by those flowers thus unfolding their sweets under the dew of heaven far from every human eye. besides the fortress we found another edifice partly spared by time. its construction and the graves about it showed it to be an old christian church. the chancel was in tolerably good preservation, and even the windows had not suffered much dilapidation. the view from mangoup kaleh is very extensive and varied. on the one side is the sea with its islands and capes, its vessels, and sevastopol, which can be distinctly perceived in clear weather. to the west, magnificent orchards, vine-clad hills, and broad meadows, intersected with streams, stretch away as far as the eye can reach in the direction of simpheropol; then, at the foot of the mountain, the valley of karolez, its forests, its rocky girdle, its tatar village, and the palace of the princess adel bey, disclosing its moorish architecture from behind a screen of poplars. at the earnest recommendation of our guides, i ventured to explore some grottoes hollowed in the rock, the descent to which is rather difficult and dangerous. there are about a dozen of them opening one into the other, and separated only by shapeless pillars. the tatars could give us no sort of explanation as to these subterraneous chambers. they seem like those of inkermann to belong to very remote antiquity, but their origin and history are quite unknown. chapter xxxvii. road to baidar--the southern coast; grand scenery--miskhor and aloupka--predilection of the great russian nobles for the crimea. the country we passed over, next day, on our way to the southern coast, had a wild sylvan appearance strikingly in contrast with what we had hitherto seen. between the valley of karolez and that of baidar near the coast, lies a chain of mountains with deep gorges filled with forests. sometimes the road passed along the bottom of one of these gorges, where we were constantly obstructed by watercourses and thickets; sometimes we pursued a track barely discernible along the flank of the mountain, and then the summits of the hills that had seemed so high when we looked up to them from below, were hidden beneath us in dense vapours. at last, by dint of ascending and descending, we reached the wide plain of baidar, with the village in its centre. early next morning we were again on horseback, and breathing with delight the wild odours exhaled by the still dewy forest. our road ascended gently to the culminating point of the mountain, and then we stood rooted for a while to the spot in admiration of the magnificent sea view that burst upon us. but our thoughts were suddenly called off in another direction by the music of a military band, and looking down we were surprised to see several groups of soldiers posted some hundred feet below the point where we stood. it was a whole regiment employed in making a new road between sevastopol and ialta. some were blowing up rocks, and filling the air with something like the din and smoke of battle; others were busy round a great fire preparing the morning meal; the musicians were waking the mountain echoes with their martial strains, and the officers were lounging in front of a tent smoking their pipes. when we had sufficiently indulged our admiration of the scene, we turned with some dismay to contemplate the descent before us. the mountain which we had found so gently sloping on the western side, here fell so precipitously that i could not imagine how our horses were to make their way down. for my part i thought it safest to alight and lead my horse. the band of the regiment, as if they had guessed we were french, saluted us with the overture of the _fiancée_. after we had already reached the seaside, we still heard that charming music, weakened by distance, but kindling our recollections of home in the most unexpected manner. we spent some days at moukhalatka, the residence of colonel olive, a frenchman, formerly page to louis xviii., who entered the service of the grand-duke constantine shortly after the return of the bourbons to france. beyond moukhalatka our way lay over mountains, the scenery of which partly compensated for the incessant toil of climbing up broken rocks, and passing through glens where we could only advance in single file. but with the exception of these difficulties, the whole journey to aloupka was a continual enchantment. talk of the isles of the archipelago with their naked rocks! here a luxuriant vegetation descends to the water's edge, and the coast everywhere presents an amphitheatre of forests, gardens, villages, and country houses, over which the eye wanders with delight. the almond, the cythesus, the wild chestnut, the judas-tree, the olive, and the cypress, and all the vegetation of a southern clime, thrives there with a vigour that attests the potency of the sun. on our left we had gigantic masses towering vertically, sombre tints, and an inconceivable chaos of rocky fragments; on our right a brilliant mosaic bordered by the sea. but the beauty of the scenery about aloupka is even still more striking. the eye takes in at once the majestic tchatir dagh, cape aïtodor, with its lighthouse, the aiou dagh, the brow of which, by a curious freak of nature, seems crowned with bastions and half-ruined towers, the ai petri, and the megabi, with its gilded dome surmounted by a cross which was erected by the celebrated princess gallitzin, whose memory is still fresh in the crimea. all these objects are clothed in a rich and varied garb of light such as belongs only to the warm atmosphere of southern lands. aristocracy has set its seal on this favoured portion of the coast. the change in the appearance of the roads indicates the neighbourhood of wealthy landowners. they have been made expressly for the dashing four-horse equipages that are continually traversing it. we observed that the limits of each estate were marked by a post bearing the blazonry of the proprietor. we were most agreeably surprised in the neighbourhood of aloupka, where we fell in on the road with our friend m. marigny. in consequence of this welcome encounter we put off our visit to aloupka to the next day, and proceeded with the consul to mishkor, the estate of general narishkin, adjoining that of count voronzof. we were greatly pleased with this fine property, on the maintenance of which the general annually expends , francs. it comprises forests, a park, a château, a church, and a great number of ornamental buildings, that bespeak the exquisite taste of the proprietor. mishkor has this great advantage, that its costly artificial arrangements are so well disguised under an appearance of rural simplicity, that one is almost tempted to attribute its perfections to the hand of nature. the reverse is the case at aloupka where art reigns supreme. this almost royal residence, which has excited the envy even of the emperor nicholas, has already cost count voronzof between , , and , , of francs, although it is not yet finished. all epochs and all styles are represented in its architecture and embellishments. its lofty walls, its massive square tower and belfry, its vaulted passages and the mysterious aspect of its long galleries, give it a considerable resemblance to a feudal manor; but the oriental style is exhibited in its small columns, its chimneys, and its profusion of pinnacles and domes. to justify the construction of such a porphyry château, the count should have been able to retrograde some centuries: in our own times such a dwelling is an anachronism. what is the use of such walls when there is no fear of being attacked by a neighbour? what is the use of those vaulted passages without men-at-arms to fill them? an old castle speaks to the imagination, recalling the chronicles, the fortunes and events connected with it, but a modern construction like this is a thing of no meaning. its towers, battlements, and threatening walls seem a parody on the past. what have they seen? of what combats, feuds, loves, and revenges have they been witnesses? in addition to this total want of fitness of character, the château has besides the grievous defect of being very disadvantageously situated. the coast is so narrow at this spot that there are but a few paces' breadth between the façade of the building and the sea, so that, in order to have a fair view of the whole, one must take a boat and put out from the shore until the proper point of view is found. now it is not every one who will be disposed to take this trouble solely for the purpose of appreciating the effect of a façade. the park displays a charming labyrinth of broken rocks, and a variety of natural picturesque and extraordinary features. art has had nothing to do but to make paths and alleys between the accumulated volcanic masses, and to adorn the sides of the cascades with flowers. in the hollow of a rock there is a deep grotto with a little babbling spring, inviting to repose and meditation. at the eastern end of the château there is a lofty cypress wood, which the countess calls her scutari. the general aspect of this magnificent abode is too grave to delight the eye; we admire but do not covet it. the gigantic shadow of the ai petri, which hangs like a veil over the whole domain, adds still more to its sternness. the reputation of the southern coast dates only from the arrival of count voronzof in the crimea, previously to which no one thought of residing on it, except some speculators who were beginning to try the cultivation of the vine there. the count, who is a man of much taste, was at once struck with the beauty of the country, and soon became the purchaser of several estates in it. his example was followed by numbers of wealthy nobles whose eyes were immediately opened to the charms of the landscapes when once the count had proclaimed their attractions. numerous villas were erected in the course of a few years along all the coast from balaclava to theodosia. a fleet of steamers was established, with the port of ialta for their head quarters. the imperial family itself gave into the fashion and purchased oreanda, one of the most beautiful sites on the coast; and many foreigners, infected by the prevailing fever, turned all they had into money and settled in the crimea to cultivate the vine, a pursuit which count voronzof was then encouraging to the utmost of his power. but this was the reverse of the medal; most of them were ruined, and are now expiating in extreme poverty the cupidity with which they plunged into foolish enterprises. throughout its whole extent the coast presents only a narrow strip, seldom half a league wide, traversed by deep ravines, and backed by a range of calcareous cliffs that shelter it from the north wind. it is only on this _detritus_ that the handsomest domains are situated. among these are koutchouk lampat, belonging to general borosdine; parthenit, where is still to be seen the great hazel under which the prince de ligne wrote to catherine ii.; kisil tasch, the proprietor of which bears a name famous in france, that of poniatowski; oudsouf, lying close under the forest shades of aiou dagh; arteck the estate of prince andrew gallitzin; ai daniel, the property of the late duc de richelieu; marsanda; oreanda, an imperial domain; mishkor and nikita; gaspra where madame de krudener died in the arms of her daughter, baroness berckheim; and koreis where princess gallitzin, exiled from court, ended her days. all these properties, adjoining each other, are, in the fine season, the rendezvous of a numerous society eagerly intent on pleasure. aloupka is the great centre of amusement. foreigners of distinction who are for the moment at odessa, are _ex officio_ the guests of count voronzof; but many of them have on their return complained of paying somewhat too dearly for the governor-general's hospitality. as the château, notwithstanding its imposing appearance, can contain only a small number of the select, the majority are compelled to find a lodging at the inn of the two cypresses near aloupka, the landlord of which, by way of doing honour to his noble patron, practises unsparing extortion on all who have need of his apartments. on our way to ialta, about a dozen versts from mishkor we visited the country houses best worth seeing, particularly gaspra, which interested us for madame de krudener's sake. perhaps the reader will not be unwilling to peruse the details i collected respecting the motives that induced that celebrated woman to settle in the peninsula, and which connected her name with that of two other women equally remarkable for their strange fortunes. chapter xxxviii. three celebrated women. every one is aware of the mystic influence which madame de krudener exercised for many years over the enthusiastic temperament of the emperor alexander. this lady who has so charmingly portrayed her own character in _valérie_, who was pre-eminently distinguished in the aristocratic _salons_ of paris by her beauty, her talents, and her position as an ambassadress, who was by turns a woman of the world, a heroine of romance, a remarkable writer, and a prophetess, will not soon be forgotten in france. the lovers of mystic poetry will read _valérie_, that charming work, the appearance of which made so much noise, notwithstanding the bulletins of the grand army (for it appeared in the most brilliant period of the empire); those who delight in grace, combined with beauty and mental endowments, will recall to mind that young woman who won for herself so distinguished a place in french society; and those whose glowing imaginations love to dwell on exalted sentiments and religious fervour, united to the most lively faith, cannot refuse their admiration to her who asked of the mighty of the earth only the means of freely exercising charity, that evangelical virtue, of which she was always one of the most ardent apostles. the _lettres de mademoiselle cochelet_ make known to us with what zeal madame de krudener applied herself to seeking out and comforting the afflicted. her extreme goodness of heart was such that she was called, in st. petersburg, the mother of the poor. all the sums she received from the emperor were immediately distributed to the wretched, and her own fortune was applied in the same way, so that her house was besieged from morning till night by mujiks and mothers of families, to whom she gave food both for soul and body. with so much will and power to do good, madame de krudener by and by acquired so great an influence in st. petersburg, that the government at last became alarmed. she was accused of entertaining tendencies of too liberal a cast, religious notions of no orthodox kind, extreme ambition cloaked under the guise of charity, and therewith too much compassion for those miserable mujiks of whom she was the unfailing friend. but the chief cause of the displeasure of the court was the baroness's connexion with two other ladies, whose religious sentiments were by all means exceedingly questionable. they were the princess gallitzin and countess guacher (we will give the real name of the latter by and by). the publicity which these ladies affected in all their acts could not but be injurious to the meek christian enterprise of madame de krudener. the princess was detested at court. too superior to disguise her opinions, and renowned for her beauty, her caustic wit, and her philosophic notions, she had excited against her a host of enemies, who were sure to take the first opportunity of injuring her with the emperor. as for the countess guacher, the chief heroine of our tale, her rather equivocal position at the court furnished a weapon against her, when suddenly issuing from the extreme retirement in which she had previously lived, she became one of madame de krudener's most enthusiastic adepts. but before we proceed further it will be necessary to give a brief account of her arrival in russia. two years before the period i am speaking of, a lady of high rank arrived in st. petersburg, accompanied by a numerous retinue, and giving herself out for one of the victims of the french revolution. in that quality she was received with alacrity in the society of the capital, and the emperor alexander himself was one of the foremost to notice her. it appeared that she came last from england, where she had taken shelter during the revolutionary troubles; but the motive which had induced her, after so long a residence among the english, to quit their country for russia, remained an impenetrable secret. she always evinced an extreme repugnance to meet the french emigrants, who resided in st. petersburg, and they on their part declared that the name she bore was entirely unknown to them. it soon began to be whispered about, that the lady was, perhaps, a personage of illustrious birth who desired to be _incognita_; but what her real name was no one could tell, not even the emperor. the wit of the courtiers was baffled by the lofty reserve of the countess, who always affected a total silence whenever france was mentioned in conversation. alexander, always prompt to declare himself a champion of dames, respected the fair stranger's _incognito_ with chivalric loyalty, and declared that any attempt to penetrate the mystery would exceedingly displease him. this was enough to cool the fever of curiosity that had infected the courtiers since madame guacher's first appearance; her name was thenceforth mentioned only with a circumspection that would have seemed very curious to any one unacquainted with the russians, and she soon became a stranger to the court, where she appeared only on rare occasions. the emperor alone, stimulated no doubt by the mystery she observed respecting her past history, and struck by her high-bred demeanour, kept up an intercourse with her to which he seemed to attach much value. there was nothing of ordinary gallantry in this, at least there never was any thing to indicate that their intimacy had led to so commonplace a result. the romantic spirit of alexander, delighted to build all sorts of hypotheses on a person whose noble presence and lofty airs exercised a peculiar prestige upon his imagination. when the princess gallitzin returned to st. petersburg after a journey to italy, the emperor, who sincerely admired her, took upon himself to make two ladies acquainted whom he thought so fitted to appreciate each other. as he had foreseen, a close intimacy grew up between them, but to the great mortification of the court, this intimacy was, through madame de krudener's influence, the basis of an association which aimed at nothing less than the conversion of the whole earth to the holy law of christ. at first the scheme was met with derision, then alarm was felt, and at last, by dint of intrigues, the emperor, whom these ladies had half made a proselyte, was forced to banish them from court, and confine them for the rest of their days to the territory of the crimea. it is said that this decision, so contrary to the kind nature of alexander, was occasioned by an article in an english newspaper, in which the female trio and his imperial majesty were made the subjects of most biting sarcasms. enraged at being accused of being held in leading strings by three half-crazed women, the emperor signed the warrant for their exile to the great joy of the envious courtiers. the victims beheld in the event only the manifestation of the divine will, that they should propagate the faith among the followers of mahomet. in a spirit of christian humility they declined receiving any other escort than that of a non-commissioned officer, whose duty should be only to see to their personal safety, and transmit their orders to the persons employed in the journey. their departure produced a great sensation in st. petersburg; and every one was eager to see the distinguished ladies in their monastic costume. the court laughed, but the populace, always sensitive where religion is concerned, and who, besides, were losing a most generous protectress in madame de krudener, accompanied the pilgrims with great demonstrations of respect and sorrow to the banks of the neva, where they embarked on the th of september, . two months after that date, on a cold november morning, when the sea of azof was already beginning to be covered near shore with a thin coat of ice, there arrived in taganrok one of those large boats called lodkas, which ply on all the navigable rivers of the empire, and are used for the transport of goods. this one seemed to have been fitted up for the temporary accommodation of passengers. the practised eyes of the sailors in the port soon noticed the peculiar arrangement of the deck, the care with which the bales of merchandise were ranged along the gangways, and above all, the great carpet that covered the whole quarter-deck. these circumstances excited much curiosity in the port, especially as at that advanced season arrivals were very rare; but conjecture was exerted in vain, as to who might be the mysterious passengers, for the whole day passed without one of them appearing. it was ascertained, indeed, that a non-commissioned officer landed from the lodka, and waited on the police-master and the english consul, and that those functionaries repaired on board the lodka; but that was all, and the public remained for ever in ignorance whence the lodka came, whither it was bound, and who were the persons on board of it. the same evening the english consul was waiting with some curiosity for the visit of a foreigner, who, as he had been informed by the non-commissioned officer of the lodka, would call on him at eight o'clock; but her name and her business remained a mystery for him. at the appointed time the door opened, and a person entered whose appearance at first sight did not seem to justify the curiosity which the consul had felt about her. dressed in a long, loose, grey robe, and a white hood with lappets falling on the bosom, she had all the appearance of those russian nuns who go about to rich houses and beg for their convents. taking her for one of these persons, mr. y---- was about to give her a very expeditious answer, when to his surprise she accosted him in excellent english. the appearance and manners of the visitor soon convinced him she was a person of superior station. the conversation turned at first on england. the unknown told him that having long resided in that country, she had felt desirous of seeing its representative in taganrok; she then went on to discuss english society, mentioning the most aristocratic names, and talking in such a manner as to show that she must have been long familiar with the london world of fashion. after this she proceeded to the main object of her visit, which was to procure from the consul a podoroshni, to continue her journey by land instead of by water as before. all this while the consul was scrutinising his strange visitor with increasing astonishment. she appeared to be about fifty years of age; her features, which were still very well preserved, must have been once very handsome. she had a bourbon countenance, large blue eyes, grave lineaments, and a somewhat haughty ease in her demeanour, that altogether produced a singularly imposing effect. the conversation gradually becoming more familiar, the lady confessed that having been converted by the baroness de krudener and the princess gallitzin, she had been exiled with those ladies to the crimea, where she purposed to preach the faith. this unexpected communication of course increased the surprise of mr. y----, and drew from him some observations on the nature of such a project. after lauding the zeal of the fair missionary, he hinted a doubt that she would find many proselytes among the mahometans, and asked her had she no family or friends who had a more direct claim on her charity than strangers, who were too barbarous to appreciate her motives. this question produced an extraordinary effect on the lady. she grew pale and confused, and muttered indistinctly that all her earthly ties were broken, and that the wrath of heaven had long rested on her head! a silence of some minutes followed that avowal. the consul remained with his eyes fixed on the strange being before him, and in spite of all his address and knowledge of the world, he was quite at a loss how to behave or how to renew the conversation. his visitor, however, relieved him by taking her leave, after repeating her request that he would supply her with a podoroshni on the following morning. it may easily be imagined that mr. y---- did not wait until the next day to satisfy his curiosity respecting the ladies whose invincible spirit of proselytism had sent them from the banks of the neva to the shores of the black sea, and soon after the departure of his visitor he was on his way to the port. he had no difficulty in finding the lodka; the deck was deserted, but a light shone through one of the skylights. looking down he saw three phantom-like females standing at a table covered with papers, and reading out of large books. when their prayers were ended they began to chant hymns in a slow measure. the solemn religious harmony, suddenly breaking the deep silence, made so intense an impression on the consul, that twenty years afterwards he still spoke of it with enthusiasm. countess guacher stood with her back towards him, but he had a full view of the faces of the two other ladies. madame de krudener was small, delicate, and fair haired; her inspired looks and the gentleness of her countenance bespoke her boundless beneficence of soul. the princess gallitzin, on the contrary, had an imposing countenance, the expression of which presented a strange mixture of shrewdness, asceticism, sternness, and raillery. for a long while the pilgrims continued chanting sclavonic psalms, the mysterious impart of which accorded with the enthusiastic disposition of their souls. before they had ended, the sound of footsteps on the deck woke mr. y---- from his trance of wonder. the new comer was the non-commissioned officer, and mr. y---- desired the man to announce him, although he hardly expected to be admitted at so late an hour. his visit was nevertheless accepted, and the ladies received him with as much ease as if they had been doing the honours of a drawing-room. in spite of their religious enthusiasm, and the apostolic vocation which they attributed to themselves, it may easily be imagined that these three high-bred ladies, accustomed to all the refinements of luxury, should now and then have had their tempers a little ruffled by the hardships of their journey, and that their mutual harmony should have suffered somewhat in consequence. their wish, therefore, to separate on their arrival at taganrok was natural enough. countess guacher especially, having made less progress than her companions in the path of perfection, had often revolted against the austere habits imposed on her; but these ebullitions of carnal temper were always brief and transient; and on the day after her visit to the consul, when he returned to the port to announce that the podoroshni was ready, the boat and its passengers had disappeared, and no one could give any information about them. ii. the apparition of these ladies in the crimea threw the whole peninsula into commotion. eager to make proselytes, they were seen toiling in their _béguine_ costume, with the cross and the gospel in their hands, over mountains and valleys, exploring tatar villages, and even carrying their enthusiasm to the strange length of preaching in the open air to the amazed and puzzled mussulmans. but as the english consul had predicted, in spite of their mystic fervour, their persuasive voices, and the originality of their enterprise, our heroines effected few conversions. they only succeeded in making themselves thoroughly ridiculous not only in the eyes of the tatars, but in those also of the russian nobles of the vicinity, who instead of seconding their efforts, or at least giving them credit for their good intentions, regarded them only as feather-witted _illuminatæ_, capable at most of catechising little children. the police, too, always prompt to take alarm, and having besides received special instructions respecting these ladies, soon threw impediments in the way of all their efforts, so that two months had scarcely elapsed before they were obliged to give up their roving ways, their preachings, and all the fine dreams they had indulged during their long and painful journey. it was a sore mortification for them to renounce the hope of planting a new thebaid in the mountains of the crimea. madame de krudener could not endure the loss of her illusions; her health, already impaired by many years of an ascetic life, declined rapidly, and within a year from the time of her arrival in the peninsula, there remained no hope of saving her life. she died in , in the arms of her daughter, the baroness berckheim, who had been for some years resident on the southern coast, and became possessed of many documents on the latter part of a life so rich in romantic events: but unfortunately these documents are not destined to see the light. princess gallitzin, whose religious sentiments were perhaps less sincere, thought no more of making conversions after she had installed herself in her delightful villa on the coast. throwing off for ever the coarse _béguine_ robe, she adopted a no less eccentric costume which she retained until her death. it was an amazonian petticoat, with a cloth vest of a male cut. a polish cap trimmed with fur completed her attire, that accorded well with the original character of the princess. it is in this dress she is represented in several portraits still to be seen in her villa at koreis. the caustic wit that led to her disgrace at the court of st. petersburg, her stately manners, her name, her prodigious memory, and immense fortune, quickly attracted round her all the notable persons in southern russia. distinguished foreigners eagerly coveted the honour of being introduced to her, and she was soon at the head of a little court, over which she presided like a real sovereign. but being by nature very capricious, the freak sometimes seized her to shut herself up for whole months in total solitude. although she relapsed into philosophical and voltairian notions, the remembrance of madame de krudener inspired her with occasional fits of devotion that oddly contrasted with her usual habits. it was during one of these visitations that she erected a colossal cross on one of the heights commanding koreis. the cross being gilded is visible to a great distance. her death in left a void in russian society which will not easily be filled. reared in the school of the eighteenth century, well versed in the literature and the arts of france, speaking the language with an entire command of all that light, playful raillery that made it so formidable of yore; having been a near observer of all the events and all the eminent men of the empire; possessing moreover a power of apprehension and discernment that gave equal variety and point to her conversation; a man in mind and variety of knowledge, a woman in grace and frivolity; the princess gallitzin belonged by her brilliant qualities and her charming faults to a class that is day by day becoming extinct. now that conversation is quite dethroned in france, and exists only in some few salons of europe, it is hard to conceive the influence formerly exercised by women of talent. those of our day, more ambitious of obtaining celebrity through the press than of reigning over a social circle, guard the treasures of their imagination and intellect with an anxious reserve that cannot but prove a real detriment to society. to write feuilletons, romances, and poetry, is all very well; but to preside over a drawing-room, like the women of the eighteenth century, has also its merit. but we must not blame the female sex alone for the loss of that supremacy which once belonged to french society. the men of the present day, more serious than their predecessors, more occupied with positive, palpable interests, seem to look with cold disdain on what but lately commanded their warmest admiration. but we have lost sight of the countess guacher, who is not for all that the least interesting of our heroines. resigning herself with much more equanimity than her companions to the necessity of leaving the tatars alone, she hired for herself, even before their complete separation, a small house standing by itself on the sea shore; and there she took up her abode with only one female attendant. following the example of the princess gallitzin, she threw off the _béguine_ robe and assumed a kind of male attire. for some time her existence was almost unknown to her neighbours; so retired were her habits. the only occasions when she was visible was during her rides on horseback on the beach, and it was noticed that she chose the most stormy weather for these excursions. but her recluse habits did not long conceal her from curious inquiry. a certain colonel ivanof, who had noticed the strange proceedings of the pilgrims from their first arrival in the crimea, set himself to watch the countess, and at last took a house near her retreat; but in order that his presence might not scare her, he contented himself for some weeks with following her at a distance during her lonely promenades, trusting to chance for an opportunity of becoming more intimately acquainted with her. his perseverance was at last rewarded with full success. one evening, as the colonel stood at his window observing the tokens of an approaching storm, he perceived a person on horseback galloping in the direction of his house, evidently with the intention of seeking shelter. before this could be accomplished the storm broke out with great fury, and just then the colonel was startled by the discovery that the stranger was his mysterious neighbour. the sequel will be best told in his own words: "full of surprise and curiosity i hastened to meet the countess, who entered my doors without honouring me with a single look. she seemed in very bad humour, and concentrated her whole attention upon a tortoise she carried in her left hand. without uttering a word or caring for the water that streamed from her clothes, she sat down on the divan, and remained for some moments apparently lost in thought. for my part, i continued standing before her, waiting until she should address me, and glad of the opportunity to scrutinise her appearance at my ease. she wore an amazonian petticoat, a green cloth vest, buttoned over the bosom, a broad-brimmed felt hat, with a pair of pistols in her girdle, and, as i have said, a tortoise in her hand. her handsome, grave countenance excited my admiration. below her hat appeared some grey locks, that seemed whitened not so much by years as by sorrow, of which her visage bore the impress. "without taking off her hat, the flap of which half concealed her face, she began to warm the tortoise with her breath, calling it by the pet name _dushinka_ (little soul), which duty being performed she deigned to look up, and perceived me. her first gesture bespoke extreme surprise. until then, supposing she was in a tatar house, she had taken no notice of the objects around her, but the sight of my drawing-room, my library, my piano, and myself, struck her with stupefaction. 'where am i?' she exclaimed, in hurried alarm. 'madam,' i replied, 'you are in the house of a man who has long lived as a hermit--a man who like you loves solitude, the sea, and meditation--who has renounced like you the society of his kind to live after his own way in this wilderness.' these words struck her forcibly. 'you, too,' she ejaculated, 'you, too, have divorced yourself from the world, and why? ay, why?' she repeated, as if conversing with her own thoughts, 'why bury yourself alive here, without friends, without relations, without a heart to respond to yours? why die this lingering death, when the world is open to you--the world with its delights, its balls and spectacles, its passionate adorations, with the fascinations of the court, the favour of a queen?' imagine my astonishment to hear her thus in a sort of hallucination, revealing her secret thoughts and recollections. in these few words her whole life was set forth, the life of a beautiful woman, rich, flattered, habituated to the atmosphere of courts. "after a pause of some duration she entered into conversation with me, questioned me at great length on the way in which i passed my time, on my tastes, the few resources i enjoyed for cultivating the arts, &c. we chatted for more than an hour like old acquaintances, and she seemed quite to have forgotten the strange words she had uttered in the beginning of the interview. being very much puzzled to know what pleasure she took in carrying the tortoise about with her, i asked her some questions on the subject; but with a solemnity that seemed to me strangely disproportioned to the subject, she told me she had made a vow never to separate from it. 'it is a present from the emperor alexander,' she said, 'and as long as i have it near me i shall not utterly despair of my destiny.' availing myself of this opening i tried to make her talk of the motives that had brought her to the peninsula, but she cut me short by saying that since she had become acquainted with the character of the tatars she had given up all thought of making converts among them. 'they are men of pure feelings and pure consciences,' she said, impressively; 'why insist on their changing their creed, since they live in accordance with the principles of morality and religion? after all it matters little whether one adores jesus christ, mahomet, or the grand lama, if one is charitable, humble, and hospitable.' "i laughed, and said she spoke rank heresy, and that if she preached such doctrines, she ran great risk of having a bull of excommunication fulminated against her. 'it is since i have given up preaching,' she replied, 'that i have begun to think in this way; solitude makes one regard things in quite a different aspect from that in which they are seen by the world. only three months ago i set catholicism above all religions, and now i meditate one still more perfect and sublime. will you be my first disciple?' she said, in a tone between jest and earnest, that left me very uncertain whether she was serious or not. when she left my house i escorted her to her own door, and promised i would call on her the next day." the second interview was not less curious than the first: the colonel found his neighbour busily at work with a glass spinner's lamp and a blowpipe, making glass beads. she did not allow her visitor's presence to interrupt her operations, but finished before him enough to make a necklace. she then showed him several boxes filled with beads of all sorts, made by her own hands, and said very seriously, "if ever i return to the world i will wear no other ornaments than such pearls as these. it is a stupid thing to wear true ones. see how bright, clear, and large these are! would any one suppose they were not the produce of the indian ocean? so it is with every thing else: what matters the substance if the form is beautiful and pleasing to the eye?" the colonel was about to enter into a grave discussion of this very questionable moral doctrine, very common in the eighteenth century, when suddenly changing the subject, the countess took down a sword that hung at the head of her bed and laid it on his lap. "you see this weapon, colonel: it was given me by a vendean chief in admiration of my courage; for though a woman i have fought for the good cause, and many a time smelt powder among the bushes and heaths of bretagne. you need not wonder at my partiality for weapons and for male costume; it is a reminiscence of my youth. a vendean at heart, i long made part in the heroic bands that withstood the republican armies, and the dangers, hardships, and fiery emotions of partisan warfare are no secrets to me." "but," observed the colonel, "how is it that thus devoted as you are to the royal cause you do not return to your country, where monarchy is again triumphant?" "hush!" she answered, lowering her voice, "hush! let us say no more of the present or the past. would you ask the shrub broken by the storm why the breath of spring does not reanimate its mutilated form? let us leave things as they are, and not strive to repair what is irreparable. man's justice has pronounced its decree; let us trust in that of god, merciful and infinite, like all that is eternally just and good!" it was in vain the colonel endeavoured by further questions to become acquainted with that mysterious past to which she could not make any allusion without extreme perturbation of mind; she remained silent, and retired to another room without renewing the conversation. after these two interviews, colonel ivanof had no other opportunity of gathering any hints that could lead him towards a definite conclusion respecting this extraordinary woman, although he saw her almost daily for more than two months. she often talked to him of her residence in london, her friendly relations with the emperor of russia, her travels, and her fortune; but of france not a word. not an expression of regret, not a name or allusion of any sort, afforded the colonel reason to suspect that his neighbour had left behind her in her native land any objects on which her memory still dwelt. his brain was almost turned at last by the romantic acquaintance he had made. his vanity was piqued, and his desire to solve so difficult an enigma gave him no rest. he diligently perused the history of the french revolution, in hopes to find in it a clue to his inquiry, but it was to no purpose. he felt completely astray in such a labyrinth. many great names successively occurred to him as likely to belong to his mysterious neighbour, but there were always some circumstances connected with them that refuted such a supposition. perhaps a more matter-of-fact person would at last have discovered the truth; but the colonel's lively imagination led him to embrace the oddest hypothesis. it was his belief that the countess was the illegitimate offspring of a royal amour. setting out from this principle he put aside all the names proscribed by the revolution, and stuck obstinately to a myth. but tired at last of this pursuit of shadows, he resolved to trust to that chance which had already been so favourable for the clearing up of his uncertainty. assiduously noting all the lady's eccentricities, he knew not whether to pity or admire her, though very certain that her wits wandered at times. she frequently received despatches from st. petersburg, and seemed, notwithstanding her exile, to have retained a certain influence over the mind of the tzar. one day she showed her neighbour a letter from a lady of the court, who thanked her warmly for having obtained from the emperor a regiment which that lady had long been ineffectually soliciting for her son. so absorbed was the russian officer by the interest he took in the countess, that he seemed to have forgotten all the world besides; but an unexpected event suddenly put an end to his romantic loiterings, and sent him back to the realities of life. a frenchman, calling himself baron x--, arrived one fine morning from st. petersburg, and established himself without ceremony as the countess's factotum. from that moment all intimacy was broken off between the latter and colonel ivanof. the cold, astute behaviour of the baron, and his continual presence, obliged the colonel to retire. it may seem strange that he surrendered the field so quickly to an unknown person, but it was time for him to return to his military duties, and besides, what could he do with a man whose connexion with the countess seemed of old standing, and who watched her with a jealous vigilance enough to discourage the most intrepid curiosity? his departure was scarcely noticed by madame guacher, whose habits had undergone an entire change since the arrival of the baron. the incoherence of her mind became more and more visible; it was only at long and uncertain intervals she rode out on horseback; the rest of her time was spent in enduring all sorts of extraordinary mortifications. baron x--remained in the crimea until the death of the countess, which took place in . being fully acquainted with all her affairs he was her sole heir, not legally, perhaps, but _de facto_. on leaving the peninsula he proceeded to england, where a large part of our heroine's property was invested, and he afterwards returned to russia with a considerable fortune. a curious incident occurred after the death of the countess. as soon as the emperor was informed of the event he despatched a courier to the crimea, with orders to bring him a casket, the form, size, and materials of which were described with the most minute exactness. the messenger, assisted by the chief of the police, at first made a fruitless search; but at last, through the information of a waiting woman, the casket was found sealed up, under the bed of the deceased lady. the courier took possession of it and returned with the utmost speed. in ten days he was in st. petersburg. the precious casket was delivered to the emperor in his private cabinet, in the presence of two or three courtiers. alexander was so impatient to open it that he had the lock forced. but alas! what a sad disappointment! the casket contained only--a pair of scissors. it surely was not for the sake of a pair of scissors that alexander had made one of his cossacks gallop versts in a fortnight. be that as it may, baron x--was accused of having purloined papers of the highest importance, and unfairly possessed himself of madame guacher's fortune. but as he was then on his road to london, the emperor's anger was of no avail. at a subsequent period, the disclosures made by this man, and the discovery of a curious correspondence, at last revealed the real name of the countess; but the tardy information arrived when there was no longer any one to be interested in it; the emperor was dead, and colonel ivanhof was fighting in the caucasus. interred in a corner of the garden belonging to her house, that mysterious woman who had been the subject of so many contradictory rumours, had not even a stone to cover her grave, and to mark to the stranger the spot where rest the remains of the _countess de lamothe_, who had been whipped and branded in the place de grève, as an accomplice in the scandalous affair of the diamond necklace.[ ] footnotes: [ ] all the facts we have related respecting madame de lamothe are positive and perfectly authentic: they were reported to us by persons who had known that lady particularly, and who moreover possessed substantial proofs of her identity. it is chiefly to mademoiselle jacquemart, mentioned in "marshal marmont's travels," that we are indebted for the details we have given respecting the arrival of our three heroines in the crimea. we have ourselves seen in that lady's possession the sword which the countess alleged she had used in the wars of la vendée, and sundry letters attesting the great influence she exercised over the emperor alexander. chapter xxxix. ialta--koutchouk lampat--parthenit--the prince de ligne's hazel--oulou ouzen; a garden converted into an aviary--tatar young women--excursion to soudagh--mademoiselle jacquemart. the proximity of ialta to the most remarkable places on the coast, its harbour, and its delightful situation, make it the rendezvous of all the travellers who flock to the crimea in the fine season. a packet-boat from odessa brings every week a large number of passengers, and the harbour is further enlivened by a multitude of small vessels from all parts of the coast. nothing can be more charming than the sight of that white ialta, seated at the head of a bay like a beautiful sultana bathing her feet in the sea, and sheltering her fair forehead from the sun under rocks festooned with verdure. elegant buildings, handsome hotels, and a comfortable, cheerful population, indicate that opulence and pleasure have taken the town under their patronage; its prosperity, indeed, depends entirely on the travellers who fill its hotels for several months of the year. when it belonged to the greeks it was counted among the most important towns on the coast; but the successive revolutions of the crimea were fatal to it, and for a long while it remained only a wretched village. at present a custom-house and a garrison complete its pretensions to the style and dignity of a grand town. but nature has been so liberal to it, that instead of wondering at its rapid rise one is rather disposed to think it much inferior to what it might be. we left ialta in a tolerably large body, some on horseback, others in carriages. leaving behind us aloupka, mishkor, koreis, and oreanda, we soon forgot their sumptuous displays of art for the inexhaustible marvels of nature. our road lay parallel to the coast, and the continual variations of its admirable scenery made us think the way too short. a storm of rain overtook us in the fine forest of koutchouk lampat, and made us all run for shelter. the more advanced of the party easily reached the house of general borosdin the owner of the property; but those in the rear, of whom i was one, were obliged to take refuge in a pavilion. whilst we were quietly waiting there until the storm should blow over, the people of the house were seeking for us on all sides, having been sent out by our companions. several times we saw them passing along at a distance armed with large umbrellas; but as there was a billiard-table in the pavilion we never showed ourselves until we had finished an interesting game. the châtelain of koutchouk lampat, delighted to receive so numerous a party, entertained us with an excellent collation, in which figured all the wines of france and spain. a few leagues from koutchouk lampat lies parthenit, a village where, for the first time, i received a mark of civility from tatar females. as i entered the place, keeping in the rear of the others according to my usual custom, i passed in front of a house in the large balcony of which there were three veiled women. just as i passed beneath the balcony i slackened my horse's pace and made some friendly signals to them, whereupon, one of them, and i make no doubt the prettiest, repeatedly kissed a large bouquet of lily of the valley she held, and threw it to me so adroitly that it fell into my hand. delighted with the present, i hastened up to my companions and showed it to them; but they were all malicious enough to assure me that the gift had been addressed not to myself but to my clothes. the reader will remember that i travelled in male costume. at parthenit we failed not to sit under the famous hazel-tree of the prince de ligne. its foliage is so thick and spreading that it overshadows a whole _place_. the trunk is not less than eight yards in circumference, and is surrounded by a large wooden divan, almost always occupied by travellers, who use it as a tavern. the inhabitants of parthenit regard this tree with great affection, and beneath its shade they discuss all the important affairs of the village. a limpid fountain, the waters of which are distributed through several channels, adds to the charm of the spot. our whole cavalcade was completely sheltered under the dome of the magnificent hazel. the tatars brought us sweetmeats, coffee, and fresh eggs, and obstinately refused to take payment for them. almost the whole population came to see us, but their curiosity was not at all obtrusive. such of them as had no immediate business with us kept a respectful distance. on leaving parthenit we passed very close to some old fortifications covering a whole hill with their imposing ruins. at evening we arrived at the post station of alouchta,[ ] where our party was to break up. some of our companions returned to ialta, others proceeded towards simpheropol; whilst we ourselves, accompanied by a single tatar and our dragoman, set out by the sea-coast for oulou ouzen. the distance was but twelve versts, but we spent several hours upon it, in consequence of the difficulty of the ground and the steepness of the cliffs which we were often obliged to ascend. we met no one on the way; this part of the coast is quite deserted and sterile. oulou ouzen, our point of destination, is a narrow valley opening on the sea, and belonging to madame lang, who has covered it with vineyards and orchards. a week passed quickly away in the agreeable society of our hostess, whose residence is one of the prettiest in the country. being very fond of birds, she has succeeded by a very simple process in converting her garden into a great aviary. on the day we arrived we were surprised to see her continually assailed by a flock of pretty titmice that pecked at her hair and hands with extraordinary familiarity. they were the progeny in the third and fourth generation of a pair she had reared two years before, and had liberated in the beginning of spring. next year they returned with a young brood that grew used by degrees to feed on the balcony, and at last to eat out of her hands. these in their turn brought her their young ones; other birds followed their example, and thus she has always a flock of gay dwellers of the air perching and fluttering about her balcony, which is covered with nets to protect them from birds of prey. at madame lang's we met a very agreeable gentleman and a great admirer of the crimea, m. montandon, who has written an excellent itinerary of the country. we talked a great deal with him about a french lady, mademoiselle jacquemart, whose acquaintance my husband had made some months previously. she has resided for the last fifteen years in soudagh, a valley near oulou ouzen. the duc de raguse speaks at great length of her in his _excursion en crimée_, and relates the tragic adventure of which she was the heroine some years ago, but he assigns for it a romantic cause which mademoiselle jacquemart has absolutely contradicted. few ladies have passed through a more eccentric life than mademoiselle jacquemart. in her young days, her beauty, her talents, and her wit invested her with a celebrity, such as rarely falls to the lot of one in the humble position of a governess. after having lived long in the great world of st. petersburg and of vienna, she suddenly withdrew to the crimea, where, having like many others almost ruined herself by vintage speculations, she purchased the little property in which she now resides. her history and her unusual energy of character led to a close intimacy between her and the old princess gallitzin, who was herself enough of an original character to like every thing uncommon, and mademoiselle jacquemart was an habitual guest at koreis. before we left oulou ouzen we went to spend a day with madame lang's only neighbour, an old bachelor, who lives quite alone, not out of misanthropy, but that he may devote himself without interruption to his favourite pursuit of botany. a deep ravine between the two properties, and a steep descent overlooking the sea, render the road so dangerous that ladies can venture to traverse it only in a vehicle drawn by oxen. it was in this strange equipage, guided by a tatar armed with a long goad, that we reached the house of m. faviski, who was quite delighted, but greatly puzzled to receive ladies. he did the honours of his bachelor's dwelling, nevertheless, like a very well-bred gentleman. while we were waiting for dinner, madame lang conceived the happy thought of sending for all the tatar beauties of the village that i might see them. when they arrived, the gentlemen were obliged to leave the room, which was immediately entered by a dozen of pretty bashful young women, looking like a herd of scared gazelles. but after a few words from madame lang, who speaks tatar very well, they soon became familiarised with our strange faces, and grew very merry. they took off their veils and papouches at our request, and favoured us with an oriental dance. one of them quite astonished me by the magnificent lineaments of her face, which reminded me of the head of an empress on an ancient medal. they examined all the details of our toilette with childlike curiosity, and exacted from us the same attentive notice of the embroidery on their bodices and veils. meanwhile, so amused were we by this scene, that we had quite forgotten the gentlemen whom we had turned out, and who now began to thump lustily at the door. the tatar women were now thrown into the most picturesque and comical disorder, and ran about in all directions looking for their veils. in the midst of the confusion i was wicked enough to hide the veil and slippers of the young beauty, and then throw the door wide open. it was curious to see the dismay of the poor blushing creature who knew not how to escape from the bold admiration of several men. she had never in her life been in such a situation before; so when i thought the gentlemen had sufficiently indulged their curiosity, i hastened to relieve her by returning her veil. next day, after a fatiguing journey, we reached soudagh in the evening. it was with no little interest i beheld the humble abode of a woman of talent, who, through some unaccountable whim, had quitted the world while still young, and retired to almost absolute solitude. she was glad to receive the visit of compatriots, and talked frankly to us of the hardships and discomforts of a life she had not the courage to abandon. the extreme loneliness of her dwelling exposed her to frequent attacks by night, and obliged her to have a brace of pistols always at the head of her bed. people stole her fruit, her poultry, and even her vines; she was kept continually on the alert, and had the fear before her of repetition of the horrible attempt to which she was once near falling a victim. the account she herself gave us of that affair was as follows. two days before it happened, a greek applied to her for work and food. not having any employment for him, she gave him some provisions, and advised him to look elsewhere for work. the next day but one, as she was returning in the evening from a geological excursion, carrying in her hand a small hatchet she used for breaking pebbles, she perceived the same man walking behind her in silence. feeling some uneasiness, she turned round to look in the greek's face; but at that moment she felt herself grasped round the waist, the hatchet was snatched out of her hand, and she received several blows with it on the head that deprived her of all consciousness. when her senses returned the assassin had disappeared. how she reached home with her skull fractured, she never could explain. for many months her life was in imminent danger, and her reason was impaired. at the time we saw her she still suffered acutely from some splinters of a comb that remained in her head. this is a much less romantic story than that told by marmont. footnotes: [ ] about a.d. , the khersonites invoked the protection of the emperors of the east against the huns. justinian seized the opportunity to erect the two fortresses of alouchta and oursouf, by means of which he subsequently rendered the republic of kherson tributary to the empire. there still exist at alouchta three large towers that formed part of the imperial castle. chapter xl. ruins of soldaya--road to theodosia--caffa--muscovite vandalism--peninsula of kertch--panticapea and its tombs. leaving my wife to return with mademoiselle jacquemart to oulou ouzen, i took my way by the lower part of the valley of soudagh through a labyrinth of vineyards and meadows covered with blossoming peach and apricot trees. passing the paltry village that has borrowed one of the names of the celebrated soldaya, we soon arrived at the sea beach at the foot of the triple castle erected by the intrepid genoese, in , on the site of a city they had just conquered, and which had flourished under the successive dominion of the greeks, the komans, and the tatars. the origin of soldaya, or sougdai, belongs to the most remote periods of crimean history. in the eighth century it was a bishop's see, and though then dependent on the greek empire it boasted not the less of its own sovereigns. four centuries afterwards, in , the komans, an asiatic people, expelled from their own territories, and driven westward by the hordes of genghis khan, entered the crimea, where they were the precursors of that terrible mongol invasion that was soon to overwhelm all the east of europe. the arrivals of these fugitives was fatal to the greek settlements; the princes of soldaya were exterminated, and the victors took possession of their capital. but the komans did not long enjoy their conquests. overtaken a second time by the rapid current of the mongol invasion, they were obliged to abandon the crimea after thirty years' possession, and seek an asylum in the most western regions of thrace. under the mongol dominion the greeks returned to soldaya, which again became a christian town, and the most important port of the peninsula. it was tributary, indeed, to the tatars, but it had a bishop and its own administration. in the beginning of the fourteenth century, when the tatars of the kaptchak adopted the religion of mahomet, mussulman fanaticism prevailed for a while in the crimea, the christians were expelled from soldaya and their numerous churches were converted into mosques. but it is a remarkable fact that the word of a pope, john xxii., was of such force in , that ousbeck khan allowed the exiles to resume possession of their city with the enjoyment of their ancient privileges. but twenty years had elapsed when a fresh revolution, occasioned by intestine disorder and dissensions, finally extinguished all trace of the greek sway in soldaya. the genoese, who had for nearly a century been masters of caffa, incorporated the ancient capital of the komans with their own territory on the th of june, .[ ] then it was that in order to secure their possession of the fertile territory of soudagh and defend it against the tatars, the enterprising merchant princes erected, on the most inaccessible rock at the entrance of the valley, that formidable fortress of three stories, crowned by the gigantic maiden tower (_kize kouleh_) whence the warders could overlook the fort, the sea, and the adjacent regions. the genoese remained in quiet possession of their castle for more than a century; but after the taking of constantinople by mahomet ii., and the almost immediate destruction of caffa, the capital of the crimean colonies, soldaya, shared the same fate. the turks laid siege to the fortress in . it made a long and obstinate resistance, and famine alone overcame the valour of the garrison.[ ] with the genoese sway, fell all that had constituted the glory and prosperity of soldaya during so many centuries; the population of the town was driven out and scattered; the once animated harbour was deserted, and grass grew in the streets trodden of yore by the elegant greeks of the lower empire, the victorious komans and the proud citizens of genoa. a feeble turkish garrison became the tenants of the place, and for nearly three centuries continued the unmoved spectators of the decay and desolation of one of the oldest and most remarkable cities of the pontus euxinus. the imperial eagle of the tzars floated over the towers of soldaya in , and from that time began for the monuments of the genoese colony that rapid destruction which everywhere characterises the russian conquests. all the beautiful public and private buildings which pallas so much admired in his first journey, disappeared, and out of their precious remains, muscovite vandalism erected great useless barracks, the unmeaning ruins of which have, for many years, strewed the ground. at present soldaya, erased from the list of towns and fortresses, has not even a watchman to guard its walls and its magnificent towers with their proud inscriptions. every year the sight is saddened by fresh mutilations, and ere long there will remain nothing of those marble tablets with their elegant arabesques that adorned every tower and doorway, and recorded its origin and history. the only thing that could save the genoese castle from total destruction, would be to leave it quite alone, and to remove far from it every body of russian authorities. unfortunately, the government seems willing to take upon itself the care of its preservation, and there can be no doubt that demolition awaits the remains of soldaya from the moment an _employé_, without salary enough to live on, shall be invested with the right of protecting them against the ravages of time and of men.[ ] on leaving soldaya we proceeded towards theodosia, the caffa of the genoese. we will not weary the reader with a monotonous description of our route. this part of the country is less diversified, less beautiful and picturesque, and the population much more thinly spread than in the other mountainous parts of the crimea. the great calcareous chain recedes considerably from the coast, and from its precipitous sides it sends off blackish schistous offshoots, scarcely covered by a meagre vegetation, enclosing between them in their course to the sea some valleys in which the tatars have established the only villages in the country. completely abandoned by the aristocracy, destitute of roads, and unadorned by any of those elegant dwellings with which luxury and fashion have embellished the hill sides of ialta, the whole coast between alouchta and theodosia is neglected by most tourists, and is only visited at rare intervals by scientific travellers. but if the soudagh coasts are disdained by the russian nobles, and display no italian villas or porphyry gothic manors, the traveller finds there the most frank reception and truly oriental hospitality. far from all the centres of the elegant and partly corrupt civilisation which the russians have imported into the crimea within the last twenty years, the tatars of these regions retain unaltered their ancient usages, and the prominent features of their primitive character. i could not easily describe the kindly good-will with which i was received in all the villages where i stopped. the fact that i was a frenchman, who had nothing to do with any branch of russian administration, had a really marvellous effect on the mountaineers. wherever i went the best house, the handsomest divan, cushions, and carpets were assigned for my use; and in an instant i found myself sipping my coffee and smoking my chibouk, surrounded with all those comforts the want of which is so sorely felt by those who travel in certain parts of the east. in toklouk, kooz, and otouz, which we passed through successively, the flat-roofed tatar houses are, as everywhere else, backed against the hills that flank the valley. by this means the inhabitants are enabled to keep up a communication with each other by the terrace tops of their houses, where they regularly carry on their work, and which are formed of stout carpentry covered with a thick bed of clay. nothing can be more picturesque than the appearance, at evening, of all these terraces rising in gradations one above the other. at that period of the day the whole population of each village is on the alert; and quitting the dark rooms in which they had sheltered from the heat of the day, men, women, and children gather on the roofs; animation, mirth, and the din of tongues, takes place of the silence of day, and the observer is never weary of watching the picturesque scenes formed by the various groups engaged in their household occupations. at koktebel, a little village on the sea shore, twenty-nine versts from soudagh, the sombre headland kara dagh terminates the bolder scenery of the crimea. beyond that point the country presents no picturesque features; vast plains gradually succeed the hills, and as the traveller advances he is forewarned by various tokens of his approach to the steppes, which form all the northern part of the peninsula, and extend eastward of the old genoese colony to the shores of the cimmerian bosphorus. along the whole line from soudagh to theodosia there is not one point, not one monument or ruin to interest the historian or the antiquarian. indeed the nature of the coast, now abrupt, now formed of great unsheltered flats, does not seem to favour the foundation of a town or of a harbour, whether for war or commerce. we are now arrived at theodosia or caffa, formerly the splendid metropolis of the genoese dominion in the black sea, now a russian town, stripped of all political and commercial importance. the genius of barbarous destruction has wrought still more deplorable effects here than at soldaya or any other spot in the crimea. theodosia was founded by the milesians in the early times of their expedition to the pontus euxinus, and long prospered as an independent colony. it was afterwards incorporated into the kingdom of the bosphorus, and shared its destinies for many centuries. the alans, a barbarous people from the heart of asia, appeared in the crimea about the middle of the first century of our era; theodosia was sacked by them, and sixty years afterwards arrian speaks of it in his _periplus of the black sea_ as a town entirely deserted. the huns subsequently completed what the alans had begun, and left not a vestige to indicate the true position of the old milesian colony. ten centuries after the destruction of theodosia, other navigators not less intelligent or enterprising than the milesians, landed on the crimean coasts; and soon there arose on the site of the greek city another equally remarkable city, the annals of which form unquestionably one of the finest chapters in the political and commercial history of the black sea. it was in the middle of the thirteenth century, after the conquest of the crimea by the mongols, when three potent republics were contending for the empire of the seas, that the genoese, entering the bay of theodosia, obtained from prince oran timour the grant of a small portion of ground on the coast. the colony of caffa was regularly founded in , and so rapid was its rise, that in nine years from that date it was able, without impairing its own means of defence, to send nine galleys to the succour of tripoli, then besieged by the saracens.[ ] the foundation of caffa increased the rancorous strife between genoa and her potent rival of the adriatic. the crimean colony was surprised by twenty venetian galleys in the year , and totally destroyed. in the following year the genoese again took possession of their territory; caffa quickly rose from its ruins, and twenty years afterwards pope john xxii. made it a bishop's see. war having broke out with the tatars in , djanibeck khan, sovereign of kaptchak, laid siege to caffa. the genoese came off victorious in this warfare, but the dangers to which they were exposed made them feel the need of a strong system of fortifications. the earthen ramparts and the palisades of the town were, therefore, replaced by thick and lofty walls, flanked by towers, and surrounded by a deep, wide ditch, faced with solid masonry. these magnificent works, whose excellence and gigantic proportions may still be admired by the traveller, were begun in , and finished in . the most remarkable tower, that at the southern corner which commands the whole town, was dedicated to the memory of pope clement vi., in an inscription relating to the crusade preached by that pontiff at the time when the tatars were invading the colony. from that period the prosperity of caffa augmented incessantly; it attracted to itself the trade of the most remote regions of asia, and according to the statement of its historians it soon equalled in extent and population the capital of the greek empire, which it surpassed in industry and opulence. the genoese colony had thus reached the apogee of its glory and might in the middle of the fifteenth century, when the taking of constantinople by mahomet ii. cut it off from the metropolis, and prepared its entire destruction. on the st of june, , a fleet of vessels, commanded by the high admiral achmet pacha, appeared before caffa, which was immediately bombarded by the formidable ottoman artillery. the attack was of short duration; large portions of the walls, erected at a period when the use of cannons was unknown, were rapidly dismantled; breaches were made in all directions, and the besieged were forced to surrender at discretion on the th of june, , after ineffectually attempting to obtain terms of capitulation. achmet pacha entered caffa as an incensed victor and an enemy of the christian name. after taking possession of the consular palace, he disarmed the population, imposed an enormous fine on the town, and then seized half the property of the inhabitants, and all the slaves of both sexes. the latin catholics were shipped on board the turkish fleet and carried to constantinople, where the sultan, established them by force in the suburbs of his new capital, after taking from them male children to be brought up as members of his guard. thus was annihilated in the space of a few days, after years of glorious existence, that magnificent establishment which the genius of europe had erected on those remote shores, and which had shed such lustre on the commerce of the black sea. caffa, the destruction of which was immediately followed by that of soldaya and cembalo, was annexed to the turkish dominions, and for upwards of years had no other importance than what it derived from its turkish garrison and its military position on the shore of a mussulman region, the absolute conquest of which never ceased to be an object of the porte's ambition. in the middle of the seventeenth century, the old genoese city awoke from its long trance, and in consequence of the commercial and industrial movement which then took place among the tatars, it again became the great trading port of the black sea. chardin, on his journey to persia in , found more than vessels in the bay of caffa. the town, to which the turks then gave the name of koutchouk stamboul (little constantinople) contained houses, with a population exceeding , souls. the new prosperity of caffa was short lived. from the time of peter the great russia pursued her threatening advance towards the regions of the black sea, and in , in the reign of the empress catherine ii., the crimea was finally incorporated with the muscovite empire. caffa now accomplished the last stage of its destinies; it lost even officially its time-honoured name, and under the pompous appellation of the greek colony, bestowed on it by the emperor alexander, it became a paltry district town, to which authentic documents assign at the present day scarcely inhabitants. at caffa, just as at soldaya, the construction of useless barracks occasioned the demolition of the genoese edifices. the facings of the ditches were first carried off, and then, emboldened by the deplorable indifference of the government, the destroyers laid hands on the walls themselves. the magnificent towers that defended them were pulled down, and there now remain only three fragments of walls belonging to the remarkable bastion erected in honour of pope clement vi. when the genoese fortifications had been destroyed, the civil monuments next fell under the ruthless vandalism of the authorities. at the time the russians took possession, two imposing edifices adorned the principal square of caffa, the great turkish baths, an admirable model of oriental architecture, and the ancient episcopal church of the genoese, built in the beginning of the fourteenth century, and converted into a mosque after the turkish conquest. it was decided in the reign of catherine ii. that the mosque should be restored to the greek church, but unfortunately instead of preserving it unaltered, the fatal project of adorning it with wretched doric porticoes was adopted. the elegant domes that so gracefully encompassed the main building were, therefore, demolished; but scarcely were the bases of the columns laid when a trifling deficit occurred in the funds, as m. dubois relates, and thenceforth the government refused to make any further advances. the beautiful mosque which had been quickly stripped of its lead, to be sold, of course, for the benefit of the russian officials, was thus abandoned to the mutilations of time and of the population, and soon became a mere ruin. in , the ignorance of a civil governor, kasnatcheief, completed this afflicting work of destruction, which extended at the same time to the great baths that still remained untouched. a fortnight's work with the pickaxe and gunpowder razed to the ground the two admirable monuments with which the genoese and the turks had adorned the town. when i visited theodosia in , the great square was still obstructed with their precious materials, which the local administration was eager to dispose of at a low price to whoever would buy them. of all the splendid edifices of the genoese colony two churches alone have escaped the destroyer; art owes their preservation to the catholics and the armenians. for a very long time those two foreign communities struggled against the indifference of the government, and strove to obtain its aid for the repair of their edifices; but their applications were all unsuccessful, and it was by great personal sacrifices that they succeeded in recent times in themselves effecting the restoration of their temples. if we turn our attention from the interior of the town to its environs, we are still afflicted by the same spectacle of destruction. all the thriving fields and orchards that encompassed the town in the time of the tatars have disappeared. two muscovite regiments annihilated in a single winter all trace of the rich cultivation that formerly clothed the hills. there is a museum in theodosia, but except some genoese inscriptions, foremost among which is that of the famous tower of clement vi., it contains no remains belonging to the ancient milesian colony. all the antiquities it possesses come exclusively from kertsch (panticapea), and were brought to theodosia at a period when that town was still the chief seat of the administration of the crimea. dr. grapperon, a frenchman, is the director of the museum. he never fails to mystify the antiquaries who pass through his town, by exhibiting to them a pretended female torso, found in the heart of the crimean mountains; but the cunning old man knows very well that his chef-d'oeuvre is only a _lusus naturæ_. notwithstanding all the depredations of the authorities, and the stupid ignorance of a governor, caffa has not been entirely metamorphosed into a russian town. its chief edifices have been demolished, its walls razed, its tatar population expelled, and solitude has succeeded to its former animation, yet the general appearance of the city, its various private buildings, and its streets paved with large flags, all bespeak a foreign origin and a foreign rule. long may the town preserve this picturesque aspect, which reminds the traveller of that of the little mediterranean seaports. after three days spent in exploring the ruins of the genoese colony, days rendered doubly agreeable by the varied and instructive conversation of my kind cicerone, m. felix lagorio,[ ] i set out again to continue my investigations as far as the most eastern point of the crimea. it is from the point where the last hills of the crimean chain subside at the foot of the walls of theodosia that the celebrated peninsula of kertch begins, which extends between the black sea and the sea of azof to the shores of the cimmerian bosphorus. as i traversed its now deserted and arid plains, where nothing seems formed to arrest the attention for a single moment, my mind went back with astonishment to those glorious times when flourished the numerous opulent towns which the colonising genius of the milesians erected in these regions. theodosia, nimphea, mirmikione, and on the other side of the strait phanagoria, crowded the brilliant historic scene called up by my recollections; but above them all stood panticapea, the celebrated capital of the kingdom of the bosphorus, where greek elegance and civilisation reigned for so many ages, and where mithridates died after having for a while menaced the existence of the roman empire. while my imagination was thus reconstructing the splendid panorama which the peninsula must have presented when the bosphorians had covered it with their rich establishments, the russian pereclatnoi was carrying me along through vast solitudes, where i sought in vain to discover some traces of that ancient greek dominion, the grandeur and prosperity of which were extolled by herodotus five centuries before the christian era. towards evening only, as i approached the bosphorus, my curiosity was strongly excited by the singular indentations which the steppe exhibited along the line of the horizon, and soon afterwards i found myself in the midst of one of the chief necropolises of the ancient milesian city. huge cones of earth rose around me, and numerous coral crags, mingled with the mounds erected by the hands of men, enhanced the grandeur of this singular cemetery. on reaching the extremity of the plateau, i could overlook the whole extent of the cimmerian bosphorus. the last rays of the setting sun were colouring the cliffs on the asiatic side, and the triangular sails of some fishing boats; the many tumuli of phanagoria stood in full relief against the blue sky, and whilst the melancholy hue of evening was gradually stealing upon the smooth waters of the channel, the deeply-marked shadow of cape akbouroun was already spreading far over them. i had but a few seconds to admire these magnificent effects of light and shade: the sun dipped below the horizon, and twilight immediately invested the scene with its uniform hues. ten minutes afterwards i entered kertch, a russian town of yesterday, stretching along the sea at the foot of the celebrated rock which popular tradition has decked with the name of mithridates' chair. it was on the side of this mountain, formerly crowned by an acropolis, that the capital of the kingdom of the bosphorus expanded like an amphitheatre. a few mutilated fragments are all that now exist of panticapea; the hill on which it stood is parched, bare, and rent by deep ravines, and modern archæologists have had much difficulty in positively determining the site of the most celebrated of the milesian colonies. having taken up my quarters in kertch under the hospitable roof of m. menestrier, one of the most agreeable of my countrymen i have met in my travels, i set earnestly about my excursions, and through the obliging kindness of prince kherkeoulitchev, the governor of the town, i was soon in possession of all the data requisite to guide me in my researches. i shall not, however, obtrude upon the reader all the archæological notes with which i enriched my journal, while exploring the tombs and monuments of panticapea, since i have been anticipated in this respect by others more competent in such matters, especially m. dubois montperreux. in roaming about the environs of kertch, among the innumerable tumuli, that served as tombs for the sovereigns and wealthy citizens of panticapea, one is instantly struck by the exceedingly slovenly and mischievous manner in which every opening of these mounds has been performed during the last twenty years. instead of seeking to preserve these precious monuments bequeathed unaltered to them by so many generations, the russians have been only bent on destroying them, in order to arrive the sooner at the discovery of the valuable contents thought to be enclosed within them. all the tumuli _against_ which official exploratory operations have been directed, have been totally demolished, or cut in four by wide trenches from the summit to the base, and no one has even thought of effecting the required researches by means either of a vertical shaft or by tunnelling. i have visited all the chief points where the destructive genius of the muscovite archæologists has been exercised; but it would be impossible for me to describe the grief i felt at the sight of such horrible devastation. they have not contented themselves with destroying the form of the monuments; the inner chambers and the mortal remains within them have been no more respected than the earth and stones that had protected them for so many ages from all profanation. the bones have everywhere been taken out of the tombs, and exposed on the surface of the ground to the inclemency of the weather. m. menestrier, of whom i have spoken above, and whose generous indignation has not spared the directors of these operations, had one day to bury with his own hands the still entire skeleton of a young woman. i have myself seen soldiers warming themselves at large fires which they fed with the precious fragments of wooden sarcophagi they had just discovered. among the various tumuli, that situated near the quarantine establishment north of the town, unquestionably deserved especial attention on the part of the local administration. considering the gigantic dimensions of its central chamber and gallery, both having corbelled ceilings, it was a truly unique monument, which the government should have been solicitous to transmit unimpaired to future generations. the entrance gallery is . mètres long, . wide, and . high. the five lower courses forming the basement are each . thick. then come twelve other courses, only . high, and rising in corbels so as to form a series of regular projections on the interior of . . the two upper courses, which have an interval of . between them, instead of being joined by keystones, are merely covered with large flags laid flat in mortar. the stability of such ceilings is evidently contrary to all the rules of art, and it is probable that in erecting them the builders must have used numerous wooden props and trusts, until the whole structure was consolidated by a sufficient load of earth. a rectangular opening at the end of the gallery three mètres high and . wide, gives admission into the interior of the central chamber or cupola. the base of the cupola consists of four courses, of . to . in thickness, forming a total height of . . the ground plan of this part is an irregular square, the sides of which are . , . , . and . . above the fifth course the four angles are filled in by stones forming a circular projection of . in the line of the diagonal. the same thing is repeated in the succeeding courses. the curved portions thus gradually increase in extent, until at the ninth course they form together a complete circle, the diameter of which diminishes with each succeeding course, until at top there is only a circular opening of . diameter, which is closed in the same manner as the upper part of the entrance gallery. the total height of the cupola is . . the material is tertiary shell limestone, large quarries of which exist in the neighbourhood. of all the tombs recently explored by the russians, that of the quarantine is the only one which had been previously opened. it was found completely empty. the first examination appears to have occurred at a very early date; perhaps at the time when the genoese possessed the small fort of cerco, at the foot of the mountain of panticapea. of the tombs with semi-circular arches, that discovered in the summer of is among the most remarkable. it consists of two distinct chambers communicating with each other. in the centre of the inner one was found a wooden sarcophagus with a male skeleton having a crown of dead gold on the skull. it was from this sarcophagus that the wooden target was taken representing a fight between a stag and a griffin, which i have presented to the cabinet of antiquities of the bibliothèque du roi. another coffin found in the centre of the outer chamber contained a female skeleton in a wonderful state of preservation. the smallest bones of the fingers and toes were perfect, and where the skull lay was seen a large quantity of light brown hair. the garments even retained their form and colour, but they fell to pieces at the least touch. in this chamber, to the right on entering, there was a small niche, in which had been deposited the body of a child, with a bronze lamp and two lacrymatories, one of them of glass, beside it. i have the last two in my possession. in , when i first explored the remains of panticapea, this remarkable tomb, which excited the admiration of all artists, served as a place of shelter for the cattle of the neighbourhood, and its fine entrance gallery was falling to ruin. some months after my departure the work of destruction was carried on in the face of day, and the magnificent pavement of the chamber was shamelessly carried off. at soudagh and theodosia, i could in some degree account for the disastrous effects of administrative recklessness; the ignorant governors to whom was committed the sole custody of the antiquities of those towns, could see in the buildings of past ages only a quarry to be worked for their own profit. but at kertch, which possesses a museum, and a committee of _savans_ to superintend the processes for exploring its antiquities, such destruction appeared to me quite incomprehensible. it is true the russian government cares little about the preservation of monuments, even of such as directly concern its own history; it granted only paper rubles for the investigations, and seems in reality to be interested only about objects of art, such as etruscan vases, gold ornaments, small statues, &c., which may serve to decorate the rooms of the hermitage; but there exists in southern russia a numerous society of antiquaries, officially constituted, and there cannot be a question, that if it would or could fulfil in some small degree the nominal purpose of its creation, it would immediately obtain from the emperor all the necessary supplies for the conservation of the monuments in the peninsula of kertch. unhappily, that general indifference to intellectual pursuits, which we have dwelt on in a preceding chapter, prevails as much with regard to archeology as any thing else. when i examined the exploring works, and conversed with the learned gentlemen that directed them, i could not help seeing before me, instead of the love of knowledge, palpable evidence of private interest and ambition employing all means to rise in the nobiliary scale of the empire; and whilst the russian journals trumpeted forth the admirable discoveries made in the name of the history of mankind, every man of those who were disturbing the ashes of the ancient panticapea thought only of augmenting his own income, or gaining a grade or a decoration. another proof how secondary a consideration in these researches is the interest of learning and history, is the scandalous neglect of the sarcophagi, the bas-reliefs, the architectural fragments, and, in a word, all the large sculptures that cannot be sent to st. petersburg and laid before his majesty. when i visited the museum of kertch, i found the approaches to the building filled with antiques, which lay on the ground without any shelter. the noses and chins of the principal figures on the bas-reliefs had just been broken, perhaps that very morning; yet the learned committee had not thought of making the least complaint, so little importance did it attach to the matter. in passing through the various halls of the museum, i everywhere noticed the same negligence, and tokens of incessant pillage. among other relics the destruction of which i had to deplore, i was shown the remains of a magnificent wooden sarcophagus, which had been found in perfect condition. it was enriched with greek carvings, the prominent parts of which were gilded, and the hollow parts painted red, and it was in my opinion the most interesting piece in the museum. thanks, however, to the obliging disposition shown by the keepers towards strangers, i doubt if a fragment or two of it yet remain at this moment. we should never have done, if we were to recite all the acts of vandalism and depredation of which the museum of kertch has been the theatre. the details which we have given will sufficiently indicate the value of the archeological labours carried on upon the site of the ancient panticapea; may the remonstrances we here put forth in the name of art, literature, and science, attract the notice of all those russians who take a real interest in the historical monuments of their country. footnotes: [ ] superbi discordes et desides græci a genuensibus italis fracti et debilitati civitatem eam amiserant (martini briniovii tartaria, ). [ ] cum obsidionem diuturnam ac famem, genuenses diutius ferre nee impetum tam numerosi exercitus turcorum sustinere amplius possent, in maximum tempum illud, quod adhuc ibi integrum est, centeni aliquot vel mille fere viri egregii sese receperant, et per dies aliquot in arce inferiori in quam turcæ irruperant fortiter et animose sese defendentes, insigni et memorabili turcarum strage edita tandem in templo illo universi concidere.--ibid. [ ] for a more detailed description of the ruins of soudagh, see the remarkable work of m. dubois de montperreux. paris, . [ ] giust. ann. di genova, lib. iii. [ ] formerly french consul at theodosia; deprived of his place for his opinions upon the return of the bourbons, and now filling the humble functions of neapolitan consular agent. he is the author of a valuable work on the political revolutions of the crimea. chapter xli. political and commercial revolutions of the crimea. extent and character of surface--milesian and heraclean colonies--kingdom of the bosphorus--export and import trade in the times of the greek republics--mithridates--the kingdom of the bosphorus under the romans--the alans and goths--situation of the republic of kherson--the huns; destruction of the kingdom of the bosphorus--the khersonites put themselves under the protection of the byzantine empire --dominion of the khazars--the petchenegues and komans--the kingdom of little tatary--rise and fall of the genoese colonies--the crimea under the tatars--its conquest by the russians. the crimea comprises a surface of about square geographic leagues, divided into two distinct regions. the first of these is mountainous, and forms a strip of about ninety-five english miles in length along the southern coast, with a mean breadth of from twelve to sixteen miles; the second, the region of the plains, presents all the characters of the steppes of southern russia, and extends northward to the isthmus of perecop, which connects the peninsula with the continent. the crimea now forms part of the government called the taurid, the territory of which extends beyond perecop, between the dniepr and the sea of azof, to the th degree of latitude. simpheropol is its chief town. in order to give a clear conception of the political and commercial importance of the crimea, which, by its almost central position in the black sea, commands at once the coasts of asia, the mouths of the danube, and the entrance to the constantinopolitan bosphorus, it is indispensable to present a rapid sketch of the numerous revolutions which the march of time and the invasions of peoples have effected in that important peninsula. it was in the middle of the seventh century before christ, that the milesians made their appearance on the northern shores of the euxine. the eastern part of the tauris, an open country and easy of occupation, having attracted their attention, they founded their first colonies there, possessing themselves at the same time of all the little region which we now call the peninsula of kertch. the agricultural prosperity which they soon attained, was quickly known in greece, whence it occasioned fresh and important emigrations. theodosia, nymphea, panticapea, and mermikion, were erected on the shore of the little peninsula, and served as seaports for the thriving colonists. the success of the milesians stimulated the heracleans to follow their example. they chose the most western part of the country, landed not far from the celebrated cape perthenica, and after having beaten the savage natives and driven them back into the mountains, they settled in the little peninsula of trachea, known in our day by the name of the ancient khersonesus. thus were laid the foundations of the celebrated republic of kherson, which subsisted, great and prosperous, for more than years, and the capital of which having become the temporary conquest of a grand duke of russia, in the tenth century, was the starting point of that great religious revolution which completely changed the face and the destinies of the muscovite empire. whilst the heracleans were consolidating their power by improving their trade, the milesian settlements on the bosphorus were growing up with magic rapidity, and were spreading even beyond the strait to the asiatic coast, where the towns of phanagoria, hermonassa, and kepos were founded. at first all these milesian colonies were independent of each other, but at last they became united into the kingdom of the bosphorus, b.c. . as agriculture formed the basis of the public wealth of the milesians, it became the object of the new government's peculiar attention. on his accession to the throne, leucon relieved the athenians of the thirtieth imposed on exported corn, in consequence of which liberal measure those exports increased prodigiously; the cimmerian peninsula became the granary of greece, and merchants flocked to theodosia and panticapea, where they procured at the same time wool, furs, and all those salted provisions, which still constitute one of the chief riches of southern russia. as for the import trade, of which history says little, it is easy to conceive the nature of its operations from the important archeological discoveries of panticapea. the bosphorians undoubtedly received in exchange for their produce, all the manufactured goods which wealth and luxury had brought into vogue in athens, and it was probably greek artists who executed all those magnificent objects of art which are contained in the museum of kertch, and which prove that the agricultural colonists of the tauris did not fall short of the opulence of their brilliant mother city. building materials seem to have formed an important item of importation. there is no trace of white marble either in the crimea or on the northern coasts of the black sea; nevertheless, large quantities have been found in the excavations made at kertch, and there is every reason to presume that the huge masses of cut marble employed in the public and private buildings, were imported ready wrought from greece. despite the dangerous vicinity of the sarmatians, the kingdom of the bosphorus enjoyed perfect tranquillity for above three hundred years, and through a steady and rational policy increased in prosperity and riches, until the conquest of greece by the romans subverted all the commercial relations of the east. at that period the bosphorians, attacked by the scythians, and too weak to resist them, threw themselves into the arms of the celebrated mithridates, who turned their state into a province of the pontus, and bestowed it as an appanage on his son makhares. after the defeat and death of her implacable enemy, rome maintained the traitor pharnaces in possession of the crown of the bosphorus; but the new prince's sovereignty was merely nominal, and the successors of the son of mithridates, powerless and despoiled of all the milesians had possessed on the asiatic shore of the strait, reigned only in accordance with the caprice of the roman emperors. about the middle of the first century after christ, the alans entered the tauris, devastated the greater part of the country, and entirely destroyed theodosia, which had offered them some resistance. they were followed by the goths, who in their turns became masters of the peninsula. but far from abusing their victory, they blended their race with that of the vanquished, founded numerous colonies on the vast plains north of the mountainous region, and followed their natural bent for a sedentary life and rural occupations. the tauric khersonese now entered on a fresh period of tranquillity and agricultural prosperity. unfortunately, greece was at this period rapidly declining under the roman yoke; rome having become the capital of the whole world, egypt, sicily, and africa had naturally acquired to themselves the monopoly of the supply of corn; so that with all its efforts the tauris could not emerge from the depression into which it had been plunged by the political events of the first christian century. the remote and inaccessible position of the little republic of kherson, preserved its independence during all these early barbarian invasions. in diocletian's time, the khersonites, whose dominions extended over nearly the whole of the elevated country, had concentrated in their own hands almost all the commerce that still existed between the tauris and some parts of the shores of the black sea.[ ] their republic was the most powerful state of the peninsula, when war broke out between them and the sarmatians, who had already seized the kingdom of the bosphorus, and given it a king of their own nation. the struggle between the two rival nations lasted nearly a century, and the sarmatians having been at last expelled, the bosphorians again enjoyed some years of freedom and quiet. but the peace was not of long duration. the unfortunate peninsula was soon visited by the most violent tempest that had yet desolated it. the huns, from the heart of asia, came down to the asiatic side of the strait, and soon the terrified bosphorians beheld those furious hordes traversing the sea of azof, which had for a while arrested their progress. the ancient kingdom of the milesians was then extinguished for ever. (a.d. .) the numerous colonies of united goths and alans shared the same fate, and all the rich agricultural establishments of the country were reduced to ashes. still protected by their isolated position, the khersonites alone escaped the devastation, in consequence of the rapidity with which the torrent of the invaders rushed forth towards the western regions of europe. the tauris was still suffering under the effects of the frightful disasters inflicted on it by the huns, when it was again ravaged by their disbanded hordes, after the death of attila. the khersonites were now in jeopardy, and in their alarm, they sought the protection of the eastern empire. justinian, who then reigned at constantinople, acceded to their request, but he made them pay dear for the imperial protection. under pretence of providing for the defence of the country, he erected the two strong fortresses of alouchta and gourzoubita, on the southern coast, and the republic of kherson became tributary to the empire. in the latter part of the seventh century (a.d. ) the tauris was invaded by the khazars, hordes that having accompanied the huns, had settled in bersilia (lithuania), and had been formed into an independent kingdom by attila himself. the apparition of these new conquerors, already masters of a vast territory, made such a sensation at constantinople, that their alliance was courted by the sovereigns of the east, and the emperor leo even asked for his son the hand of the daughter of the kalgan, or chief of the nation. the forebodings of the imperial government were soon realised, for in the short space of years the khazars, who had given their own name to the peninsula, founded a vast monarchy, the limits of which extended in europe beyond the danube, and in asia to the foot of the caucasus. after the khazars, whose fall was caused chiefly by the attacks of the russians, and who thenceforth disappeared entirely from the records of history, the victorious petchenegues ruled over the whole land except the southern territory of kherson, which was incorporated with the empire of the east. under the sway of this other asiatic people, the trade and commerce of the peninsula revived, its intercourse with constantinople resumed activity, and the tauric ports supplied the merchants of the lower empire with purple, fine stuffs, embroidered cloths, ermines, leopard skins, furs of all kinds, pepper, and spices, which the petchenegues purchased in eastern russia, south of the kouban, and in the transcaucasian regions that extend to the banks of the cyrus and the araxes. thus began again for this unfortunate country a new era of prosperity, unexampled for many previous centuries. the dominion of the petchenegues lasted years, and then they themselves endured the fate they had inflicted on the khazars. assailed by the comans, whom the growth of the mongol power had expelled from their own territory, they were beaten and forced to return into asia. the comans, a warlike people, made soldaya their capital; but they had scarcely consolidated their power when they were obliged to give place to other conquerors, and seek an abode in regions further west. with the expulsion of the comans ceased all those transient invasions which dyed the soil of the tauris with blood during ten centuries. the various hordes that have left nothing but their name in history, were succeeded by two remarkable peoples: the one, victorious over asia, had just founded the most gigantic empire of the middle ages; the other, issuing from a trading city of italy, was destined to make khazaria the nucleus of all the commercial relations between europe and asia. with the mongol invasion of , the empire of the tzars entered on that fatal period of servitude and oppression which has left such pernicious traces in the national character of the muscovites. russia, poland, and hungary, were successively overrun by the hordes of the celebrated grandson of genghis khan; khazaria was added to their enormous conquests, and became, under the name of little tatary, the cradle of a potent state, which maintained its independence down to the end of the eighteenth century. under the yoke of the mongols the tauris, after being oppressed at first, soon recovered; soldaya was restored to the christians, and soon proved that the resources of the country were not exhausted, and that nothing but peace and quiet were wanted to develop the elements of wealth with which nature had so liberally endowed it. in a few years soldaya became the most important port of the black sea, and one of the great termini of the commercial lines between europe and asia. the greatness of soldaya was, however, of short duration: another people, more active, and endowed with a bolder spirit of mercantile enterprise than the greeks, came forward about the same period, and concentrated in its own hands the whole heritage of the great epochs that had successively shed lustre on the peninsula from the day when the milesians founded their first colonies on the cimmerian bosphorus. being already possessed of important factories in constantinople, the genoese had long been aware of the circumstances of the black sea, and the immense resources it would place at the disposal of enterprising men who should there centralise for their own profit all the commercial relations of europe with russia, persia, and the indies. the rivalry which then existed between them and the venetians, accelerated the execution of their projects, and in , after having secured the territory of the ancient theodosia, partly by fraud, partly by force, they laid the foundation of the celebrated caffa, through which they became sure masters of the black sea, and sole proprietors of its commerce. with the arrival of the genoese the tauris saw the most brilliant epochs of its history revived. caffa became by its greatness, its population, and its opulence, in some degree the rival of constantinople, and its consuls, possessing themselves of cerco, soldaya, and cembalo, made themselves masters of all the southern coast of the crimea. other equally profitable conquests were subsequently made beyond the peninsula. the galleys of the republic entered the palus mæotis; tana, on the mouth of the don, was wrested from the tatars; a fortress was erected at the mouth of the dniestr; several factories were established in colchis, and on the caucasian coast, and even the imperial town of trebisond was forced to admit one of the most important factories of the republic on the black sea. the genoese colonies thus became the general emporium of the rich productions of russia, asia minor, persia, and the indies; they monopolised for more than two centuries all the traffic between europe and asia, and presented a marvellous spectacle of thriving greatness. all this glory had an end. mahomet's standard was planted over the dome of st. sophia in , and the intercourse of the crimea with the mediterranean was broken off. the destruction of the genoese settlements was then inevitable; and the republic, despairing of their preservation, assigned them over to the bank of st. george, on the th of november, . the consequences of this cession which put an end to the political connexion of the colonies with the mother state, were of course disastrous. despair and loss of public spirit fell upon the colonists, individual selfishness predominated in all their councils, and the consular government, before remarkable for its integrity and its virtues, instead of uniting with the tatars, and rendering its own position with regard to the porte less perilous, completely disgusted them by a total want of honesty, and by selling its aid for gold to all the parties that were desolating the crimea. so many faults were followed by the natural catastrophe. caffa was forced to surrender at discretion to the turks on the th of june, , and some months afterwards all the points occupied by the genoese fell one by one into the hands of the ottomans. after the disaster of the genoese colonies, the great lines of communication of the trans-caucasian regions, the caspian, the volga, the don, and the kouban, were broken, having lost their feeders, and all the commercial relations with central asia were for a while suspended. the venetians, who had obtained from the turks the right of navigating the black sea, in consideration of a yearly tribute of , ducats, strove in vain to take the place their rivals had lost; they were expelled in their turn from the black sea, the dardanelles were closed against all the nations of the west, and the turks and their subjects, the greeks of the archipelago, alone possessed the privilege of passing through the strait. in our remarks on the caspian we have already pointed out the new outlets which the eastern trade procured for itself by way of smyrna, and the great revolution which followed vasco de gama's discovery. under the reign of the first khans, who were tributary to the porte, the crimea lost all its commercial and agricultural importance. continual wars, and incessant revolts, sometimes favoured, sometimes punished by the porte, added to the still deeply-rooted habits of a nomade and vagabond existence, for many years precluded the regeneration of the country. but a rich fertile soil, and a country abundantly provided with all the resources necessary to man, triumphed over the natural indolence of the tatars, just as they had done before by the savage hordes that successively invaded the tauris. the hill sides and valleys became covered with villages, and all branches of native industry increased rapidly with the internal tranquillity of the country. the corn, cattle, timber, resins, fish, and salt of little tatary furnished freights for a multitude of vessels. the commerce of central asia, it is true, was lost for it beyond recovery, but the exportation of its native produce and of that which russia sent to it by the don and the sea of azof, was more than sufficient to keep its people in a very thriving, if not an opulent condition. caffa shared in the general improvement; it rose again from its ruins, became the commercial centre of the country, as in the time of the genoese, and its advancement was such, that the turks bestowed on it the flattering name of koutchouk stamboul (little constantinople). the dominion of the khans extended at this period, in europe and asia, from the banks of the danube to the foot of the mountains of the caucasus, and the indomitable mountaineers of circassia themselves often did homage to the sovereigns of the tauris. the mussulman population was divided in those days into two great classes: the descendants of the first conquerors, known by the special designation of tatars; and the nogais, nomade tribes who, subsequently to the conquest, had come and put themselves under the protection of the illustrious batou khan. the former, mixed up with the remains of the ancient possessors, formed the civilised part of the nation. possessing the mountainous regions, and residing in towns and villages, they were both agriculturists and manufacturers; whilst the nogais, who lived in a manner independently in southern russia, applied themselves solely to cattle rearing. they were at that time divided into five principal hordes: the boudjiak occupied the plains of bessarabia from the mouths of the danube to the dniestr; the yedisan, the largest, which could bring into the field , horsemen, encamped between the dniestr and the dniepr; the djamboiluk and jedickhoul, the remnants of which still inhabit the territory of their ancestors, extended from the banks of the dniepr to the western coasts of the sea of azof; lastly, the tribes of the kouban, nomadised in the steppes between that river and the don, which now form the domain of the black sea cossacks. all these tribes collectively could, in case of urgent necessity, bring into the field upwards of , men. such was the political condition of little tatary, when the russian conquest of the provinces of the sea of azof and the black sea destroyed all the fruits of the great social revolution which had been effected in the habits of the mussulmans by the new development of trade and commerce. the first muscovite invasion took place in . a hundred thousand men, commanded by field-marshal munich forced the isthmus of perecop, entered the peninsula, and laid waste the whole country, up to the northern slope of the tauric chain. the peace of belgrade put an end to this first inroad, but the political existence of little tatary was, nevertheless, violently shaken; and from that time forth the khans were kept in continual perplexity by the secret or armed interventions of russia, their subjects were stimulated to revolt, and they themselves were but puppets moved by the court of st. petersburg. in , sahem guerai abdicated in favour of the empress catherine ii., and the kingdom of the tatars, exhausted by extensive emigrations and bloody insurrections, finally ceased to exist; and then perished rapidly the last elements of the prosperity of a land that had been so often ravaged, and had always emerged victoriously from its disasters. previously to this period, in , the irresistible command of russia had determined the emigration of all the greek and armenian families of the peninsula, and an agricultural and trading population had been seen to quit, voluntarily as russia pretends, fertile regions, and a favouring climate, to settle in the savage steppes of the don and the sea of azof. about the same period, and under the same influence, began the emigration of the tatars and nogais, some of whom retired into turkey, others joined the mountaineers of the caucasus. the russian occupation accelerated this disastrous movement, and on the day when the tzars extended their frontiers to the banks of the dniestr, the celebrated horde of yedisan disappeared entirely from the soil of the empire. the tatars of the region between the dniepr and the sea of azof did not emigrate in such numbers as the others, for the imperial government had hemmed them in, even previously to the conquest, by formidable military lines on the east and on the west. the heaviest calamities fell, of course, on the peninsula, which was covered with fixed settlements, and was the centre of the tatar civilisation and power, and there the scenes of carnage and devastation which had marked the irruption of the barbarians from asia were renewed in all their horrors. the peninsula lost at least nine-tenths of its population; its towns were given up to pillage, its fields laid waste; and in the space of a few months that region which had been still so nourishing under its last khan, exhibited but one vast spectacle of oppression, misery, and devastation. since that period there have elapsed sixty years, during which the russian domination has never had any resistance to encounter or revolt to quell; and yet, notwithstanding the opening of the dardanelles, the tauris has been unable, to this day, to rise from the deep depression into which it was sunk by the political events of the close of the eighteenth century. it is true, no doubt, that very handsome villas have been erected on the southern coast, and that luxurious opulence has made that region its chosen seat; but the vital and productive forces of the peninsula have been smothered, its trade and agriculture have been destroyed; and that bootless quietude in which the dwindled population of the tatars now vegetates, results, in fact, only from the destruction of all material resources, and the extinction of all moral and intellectual energy which have come to pass under the sway of the russian administration. footnotes: [ ] const. porph. de adm. imp., c. xiii. chapter xlii. commercial polity of russia in the crimea--caffa sacrificed in favour of kertch--these two ports compared--the quarantine at the entrance of the sea of azof, and its consequences--commerce of kertch--vineyards of the crimea; the valley of soudak--agriculture--cattle--horticulture-- manufactures; morocco leather--destruction of the goats-- decay of the forests--salt works--general table of the commerce of the crimea--prospects of the tatar population. when the russian authority was fully established in the crimea, and the inevitable disasters attending the occupation of a country by muscovite troops had subsided, the imperial government seemed for a while disposed to rekindle the embers of the peninsular prosperity. the emperor alexander was personally acquainted with the intrinsic value of the country, and manifested the best and most earnest intentions in its favour; but unfortunately he could not overcome the inveterate habits of the russian functionaries, and their utter indifference to the true interests of the empire. half measures, therefore, were all that was effected; custom-houses and quarantines were established, caffa exchanged its name for that of the milesian colony, german villages were founded,[ ] large grants of land were made to russians and strangers, vines were planted, and the cultivation of the olive was attempted; but all capital questions were overlooked or misconceived; no thought was given to the matter of markets or to commercial relations; and the government persisting in its prohibitive system, assimilated the crimea to the other provinces, in spite of strong remonstrances, and repudiated all thoughts of mercantile freedom, the only means by which it could have given new life to the crimea, and created an active and industrious population in the place of the tatar tribes, of whom war and emigration had deprived the country. but in lieu of such privileges caffa was from the first endowed with a tribunal of commerce, a quarantine, and a custom-house of the first class; and if it could not recover its old greatness under the new domination, it might at least have expected to become one of the chief places of export and import in southern russia, within the bounds prescribed by the exigencies of the customs. situated at the extremity of the tauric chain, not far from the cimmerian bosphorus, possessing the only trading port open to vessels in all seasons, in easy communication with rich and productive regions, this town possessed every possible claim to the peculiar attention of the russian government. but the hopes which had been at first conceived, were entirely disappointed, and the unfortunate theodosia was positively devoted to abandonment and destruction. it is not easy to determine the real motives for which the old genoese city was abandoned in favour of its rival on the cimmerian bosphorus. the ostensible reasons were sanatory measures, the necessity of having a general quarantine at the entrance of the sea of azof, encouragement of coasters and lighters, and the utility of a vast emporium opened to the productions of all russia. we believe, however, that all these arguments were in reality of very secondary weight, and that the downfall of theodosia is to be ascribed to nothing else than an absurd vanity. to resuscitate the ancient name of _odessus_; to found a town called _ovidiopol_ in a country where ovid never resided; to lead our geographers into error by giving the name of _tiraspol_ to a mean village on the dniestr, in the front of bender; to substitute the name of _theodosia_ for that of caffa; all these innovations might have pleased certain archæologists, but how was it possible to resist the thought of rebuilding the celebrated capital of the kingdom of the bosphorus? how irresistible the temptation to raise a new and great city at the foot of mithridates' rock! the memory of the milesians had, therefore, to fade before that of the illustrious sovereign of pontus; theodosia was despoiled of its privileges and its revenues, its tribunal of commerce was transferred to kertch, and double arbour dues were imposed on vessels touching there before arriving at the latter port. assuredly no stronger testimony could be borne to the superiority of theodosia than that which was embodied in these arbitrary measures, nor could there be a more incontestible proof of the caprice to which the genoese town was sacrificed. caffa was infinitely better fitted than kertch to satisfy those conditions which the official orders announced as the grounds for destroying its commercial position. the kertch roads are often closed against vessels for three or four months continuously; the anchorage is unsafe, and often disastrous, both from the want of shelter and from the shallowness of the water. the port of theodosia, on the contrary, is always open, and shipwrecks are unknown there. during the fine season an active service of lighters might have concentrated there all the freights brought by the don and the sea of azof. in this way the commercial intercourse with russia by the black sea would never have suffered the least interruption; and, what is an incalculable advantage in those latitudes, foreign vessels, being no longer constrained to make the long and difficult passage to taganrok, or to run the risk of wintering in the ice, might, if they failed to obtain freight at theodosia, have proceeded in search of one without loss of time to the southern shores of the black sea. all these grand considerations, which had raised the prosperity of caffa so high, were superseded by the dictates of vanity. kertch then was declared, in , a port of the first class, with a custom-house of entry and exit. a vast lazaret was immediately constructed, and five years afterwards appeared the famous sanatory orders which still regulate the navigation of the sea of azof. the duration of the quarantine was fixed at thirty days, but before that time can begin to run, the vessel must be moored within the lazaret, and every thing on board, including the effects of the crew, must be subjected to a fumigation of twenty-four hours. this operation being ended the sailors land, after having first divested themselves of all their dress and portable articles; the sails are plunged in water by the servants of the establishment, and the hull of the vessel is disinfected. after these preliminaries, which often occupy from ten to fifteen days, the sailors return to their vessels, and their days of quarantine begin to count. all these regulations are in curious contrast with those of the lazaret of odessa, where the quarantine lasts only fifteen days. this new system, which was in fact an interdict upon the sea of azof, told of course in favour of kertch. but the factitious prosperity of that town appears to us to have already reached its utmost limit, and we doubt much that the best devised or most stringent orders can ever give to its port those elements of commercial prosperity which nature has refused to it. hence we see, that to avoid the delay and cost of the kertch quarantine, the merchants of taganrok and the neighbouring towns, use lighters almost exclusively to carry their goods to the vessels moored in the cimmerian bosphorus. on their arrival in the channel, these lighters are put into the hands of the crew belonging to the vessel to be freighted, and their men remain on shore during the trans-shipment. this being accomplished, the lighters are fumigated for twenty-four hours, and then taken back by the lightermen to the sea of azof. all these operations, however, are tedious, costly, and uncertain; and the only reason why the merchants have adopted this plan of proceeding is, that they all are reluctant to incur the great expenses of storing their goods in kertch, and that the paucity of lighters, together with the irregularity of the winds, and the many shoals in the sea of azof, render shipments extremely expensive, so that no additional charge could be easily borne. at the opening of the navigation in , freight between taganrok and kertch cost as much as four rubles per tchetvert of wheat, and - / in the course of the summer. m. taitbout de marigny, who has paid great attention to all these matters, estimates the freight charges in question as equivalent on the average to those usually paid to black sea vessels bound for the archipelago.[ ] a remarkable result of this whole system of quarantine and customs is as follows. suppose two vessels start simultaneously from the mediterranean, the one for taganrok, the other for odessa, and that the latter failing to obtain a cargo, shall quit odessa after its fifteen days' quarantine, and sail for the sea of azof: there is every probability that after remaining at taganrok long enough to take in its cargo, it will on its return still find the first vessel in the kertch roads, waiting to complete the formalities required before it can enter the sea of azof. such measures as these, would inevitably keep aloof from the ports of the sea of azof, and even from that of kertch, every vessel that was sure of its cargo beforehand. it is needless to insist afresh in this place on the superiority of theodosia, considered as a general entrepôt of the goods arriving in the sea of azof, and of those which might have flowed directly into its port through the isthmus of arabat. as for the commercial resources belonging intrinsically to the town of kertch, it is enough to look at its situation at the extremity of a long, depopulated, and sterile peninsula, and its distance from every route, whether political or commercial, to be assured that they must be quite futile. seven years after the creation of its port, the annual customs' revenue had not risen above rubles. in , the whole quantity of corn that had issued from the town of kertch since its origin, whether directly or through the medium of its entrepôts, scarcely amounted to tchetverts, and the receipts of the custom-house for the same year were but , . if from this sum we deduct , , the amount of the excise on salt destined exclusively for russian consumption, and a further considerable sum produced by other imposts, there will remain an exceedingly small amount to represent the nett commercial revenue. the port of kertch has, therefore, by no means fulfilled the grand expectations so foolishly conceived of it; it has ruined the great city of theodosia, robbed the crimea of its commercial importance, cut off all chances of prosperity from the ports of the sea of azof, and crippled navigation; and all this without any profit worth speaking of to itself, and without the least prospect of ever rising above the low condition in which it is doomed to vegetate, both by its geographical situation, and the nature and configuration of the adjacent regions. the results have not been much more satisfactory as regards the growth of the russian mercantile navy. according to official reports, which we believe exaggerated, there were, in , in the sea of azof, vessels measuring about , , of kilogrammes, and manned by individuals. if we recollect that the sea of azof is but a marsh, the greatest depth of which does not exceed fourteen mètres, that the crafts which ply in it, pursuing always the same invariable track, hardly require the simplest rudiments of nautical skill for their management, and that the navigation of the sea is usually interrupted during four or five months of the year, it will be easily conceived that the maritime advantages which may accrue to russia, from the closing of the sea of azof, must be very insignificant, not to say quite illusory. we have now to examine the manufacturing and agricultural resources of the crimea, and the measures which have been taken by the imperial government to further them. the cultivation of the vine may be considered as at present the most important, if not the most productive branch of industry in the country. when russia took possession of it, the vineyards were concentrated in the southern valleys of soudak, kobsel, koze, and toklouk, and in those of the katch, the alma, &c., on the northern slope of the tauric chain. these vineyards which seem to have existed from very remote antiquity, were all in the plain, where they were subjected to continual irrigations after the system of the greeks and tatars. the consequence of this mode of culture was that the crops were extremely abundant, and the wine of a very poor quality.[ ] after the russian occupation, however, the business of vine-growing increased considerably in the northern valleys, which were soon frequented by the merchants of the interior, who were attracted both by the extraordinary cheapness of the produce, and by the facilities of transport. thus the wines of the crimea found their way into the interior of the empire, but they were chiefly used for mixing and adulteration; the small quantity that was sold in its original state was always of very bad quality, so that the peninsular wines were in very bad repute, and for a long while lost all chance of sale. this well-merited depreciation was such that even in our own day a merchant of eminence in moscow or st. petersburg would have thought it a serious disgrace to him to admit into his cellars a few bottles of crimean wine. such was the state of the vine cultivation in the crimea, when count voronzof was named governor-general of new russia. under his active and enterprising administration, a bold attempt was made to change the whole system of cultivation, so as to produce wines capable of competing advantageously with those of foreign countries.[ ] the valleys, with their method of irrigation, were therefore abandoned, and the preference was given to the long strip of schistous and _éboulement_ grounds which stretches along the seaside between balaklava and alouchta, on the southern coast. count voronzof set the example with his characteristic ardour; his first operations took place in at aidaniel,[ ] and six years afterwards he was the owner of , vine plants. the example of the governor-general was quickly followed, and in , there were already , , stocks in the country, from cuttings brought chiefly from the rhenish and the french provinces. when the vines were in full bearing, the next thing to be considered was to find a market for their produce; but here arose a great and unforeseen difficulty, and the brilliant expectations of the planters were soon miserably disappointed. in spite of the difficulties of the route, some merchants yielded to the earnest solicitations of the governor-general and his imitators, and arrived on the coast to purchase; but the demands of the proprietors were exorbitant; their first outlay had been very great, and their produce small, yet they were bent on realising at once the amount of their investments. they thought, too, that by setting a high price on their wines, they would secure their reputation; accordingly they fixed it at twenty to twenty-five rubles the vedro ( . hectolitres), and immediately they lost all chance of sale. the business prospered better in the valley of the soudak, where the same modifications had been introduced into the culture of the vine. the hill wines were sold at the rate of twelve to fifteen rubles the vedro, and those of the plain at five and six. but this did not last long; in the wine growers of soudak could no longer dispose of their stock, though they had reduced their prices to two and three rubles for the best qualities, and to one and one and a half for the lowland wines. as to the wine-growers of the southern coasts, they were very glad at that time if they could find purchasers at the rate of five or six rubles the vedro. several causes contributed to these unfortunate results. the southern coast, as we have already said, consists of a long narrow strip of argillaceous schist and detritus, with a very steep inclination, and overtopped throughout its length by high cliffs of jura limestone. in consequence of these topographical conditions, the heat is very great in summer; the soil, which is quite destitute of watercourses, dries rapidly, and the many ravines by which it is intersected, completely deprives it of any little moisture that may remain in it. the scarcity of rain augments these disadvantages, so that the vine plants procured from abroad degenerate rapidly; as the grapes cannot ripen before autumn, the wine loses much in quality; and, moreover, the quantity is far from abundant, in proportion to the extent of the ground. these circumstances, combined with those occasioned by the desire to exalt the wines of the crimea in public opinion, inflame both the pretensions of the proprietors and the indifference of the merchants, who could never have disposed of the coast wine at the high prices asked for it. these were afterwards considerably diminished, but not sufficiently to produce any effect. whatever be said to the contrary, it is certain that the wines of the southern crimea can never sustain any sort of comparison with those of france or the rhine; hence they continued to be held in low repute, and the merchants of the interior still found it more to their advantage to make their purchases in the northern valleys, which were easy of access, and where the wine was incomparably cheaper. in spite of all their efforts, therefore, the wine-growers of the southern coast could not find a market for their produce, and were obliged to consume the chief part of it themselves. it may, perhaps, excite surprise that no attempt has been made to evade the difficulties of land-carriage by seeking outlets by sea, and procuring customers in the great maritime towns of russia. but unluckily there exists between russia and greece an ancient treaty, which the tzars, for political considerations no doubt, persist in religiously observing, and by virtue of which greek wines are received almost free of duty in the imperial ports. whoever is aware of the prodigious quantity and incredible cheapness of the wines of the archipelago, and of the great facilities they afford for effecting mixtures and adulterations, will easily conceive, that with such a competition to encounter, the sale of crimean wines became absolutely impossible. if the culture of the vine in the crimea was induced by encouragements on the part of the government, then the landowners were grossly duped. but, as we shall explain by and by, the ministry seem never to have looked favourably on this branch of industry, and the vine-growers have only their own extreme want of forethought to blame for all the disasters that have befallen them. at soudak, however, the mischief appears to us attributable solely to the misconduct of the authorities. we have already stated that the vintage speculations of soudak were at first much more prosperous than those of the southern coast. the situation of the valley, which is of very easy access for northern traffic, and the decided preference of the german colonists for white wines, for many years kept the fine plain of soldaya in a thriving if not an opulent condition. but unfortunately, that western part of the coast not being within the region which the governor-general and the great landowners had taken under their special protection, soudak was completely abandoned to her own resources; her roads were left without repairs, and the local administration took no measures whatever for the preservation of order and the security of individuals. when i visited the coast in , the roads of this district were in the most deplorable condition;[ ] they were strewed with fragments of carts and casks; a german waggoner was killed in my presence by the breaking down of his waggon; thieving and pillage were the order of the day in the valley, and the proprietors could only preserve their chattels by keeping a close personal watch upon them day and night. the consequences of this culpable neglect may readily be imagined. purchasers diminished in number year by year, the wines lost their value, and the unfortunate proprietors with large stocks on hand were reduced to great poverty. all sorts of expedients were adopted under the pressure of the calamity; the wines were turned into vinegar, but again the speculation failed for want of a market. we heartily desire that our reasonable remonstrances in favour of soudak may reach the imperial government, so that effectual measures may be taken to revive the great natural wealth of that magnificent valley. we do not know the intentions of the present finance minister, but it is to be hoped that he will not partake the narrow views of his predecessor. count cancrini was a fanatic partisan of the consumption of foreign wines, and at the same time the declared enemy of the home growth, which he regarded as most injurious to the customs' revenue of the empire. in the present state of things it is not easy to predict the future fortunes of the crimean wine production. for our own part, we are thoroughly convinced that france has no sort of competition to fear on the part of those regions. whether the cultivation of the vine be concentrated in the valleys or on the hill sides, we do not think that the vintage can ever rival ours. it has been very justly remarked that wherever the vine and the olive grow together, the wines cannot have that delicacy and that _bouquet_ which belong only to our temperate climates. we believe, however, that if the wines of the archipelago were subjected to higher duties, if the means of transport were rendered more facile, and increased cultivation were given to the more open hill sides that extend towards the east of the tauric chain, the crimea would soon be enabled to supply the demand of the whole empire for the commoner sorts of wine, and the result would, perhaps, be extremely advantageous in diminishing the mischievous use of ardent spirits. such a change as this would evidently be not at all prejudicial to french commerce, which sends only wines of the first quality to the south of russia. according to a report printed in the russian journals of , and cited by m. dubois, the , , vine plants, contained in that year on the old and new plantations, were distributed as follows:-- south-west coast of the crimea , , soudak and south-east coast , , valley of the katch , , " the alma , " the belek , german colonies , the wine yielded by the vintage of , was , hectolitres, of which were the produce of the south-west coast, that of soudak, and that of the valley of the katch. the plantations have augmented considerably since that time; we cannot venture, however, to accept as authentic, the following statistics of the annual production of the crimea, given us by landowners in :-- valley of soudak , vedros , hectolitres southern coast , " , " northern valleys , " , " we have not much to say of the other branches of agriculture; they are all in the most deplorable state. the magnificent forests, yielding such quantities of timber, that formerly clothed the mountains, are rapidly disappearing. camel breeding, formerly very productive to the tatars of the plain, has given place to lank flocks of merinos. the most fertile valleys are in the same state of desolation in which they were left by the great calamities at the close of the last century, and the peninsula now produces scarcely corn enough for its own consumption. horticulture alone has made any real progress. some foreigners practise it with profit in the northern valleys, which for many years past have enjoyed the privilege of supplying all the fruit used at the tables of moscow and st. petersburg. manufactories are almost in the same state of decay as agriculture. morocco and other leathers formerly constituted an important part of the exports from the crimea; at present the value of these exports is no more than , rubles. it is about five years since this branch of industry was ruined. all that time there existed on the mountains of the peninsula a great quantity of goats, which being left at liberty, caused, it must be confessed, much damage to the forests, by nipping off the young shoots. according to the usual russian practice of attacking secondary causes rather than going at once to the root of any evil, the local administration could devise nothing better in the case than to proclaim a war of extermination, by giving every one the right of hunting and killing goats, in all places and at all seasons. the goats were almost all destroyed, and with them fell of necessity the greater part of the manufactories for morocco leather. it would certainly have been easy for authorities, possessed of any practical ability, to preserve the forests without exterminating the goats; but as they would not, or could not, deal with the real destroyers, the noble landowners, they wreaked their spite on the quadrupeds. it is really inconceivable with what rapidity the finest forests of the crimea are disappearing; year by year whole hills are totally stripped, and the government, stern as it has shown itself against the goats, takes no means to check this fatal devastation. several great landowners are engaged in lawsuits gravely affecting their rights, and meanwhile, until their causes shall have been decided, they use their opportunity to cut timber as fast as possible. foremost in those proceedings is admiral mordvinof, who has already destroyed the exceedingly rich forests that clothed the hills above the valley of baidar. the effects of this clearing away of the forests are already felt severely; the rivers are diminishing in volume, a great number of springs have run dry, and fire wood, now costs as much as forty rubles the fathom at ialta. another branch of industry, likewise very profitable in former times, was the working of the rich salt-pits in the environs of kozlov (eupatoria). only a few years ago eighty vessels used to come to the port from anatolia, to take in cargo. the price of the salt was then very low, but the trade was nevertheless a source of employment and profit for all the surrounding population. the minister of finance was jealous of the profits realised by individuals in this trade, and therefore laid a considerable export duty on the salt. in the following year not a single vessel came from anatolia, and it was soon ascertained that, prompted by necessity, the people of the southern shores of the black sea had found rich salt-pits in their own territory. the following table of the commerce of the crimea in and , is taken from official documents. the figures contained in it are in our opinion exaggerated, for they do not by any means agree with those resulting from the detailed table we shall give further on. ------------+-----------------------+----------------------- | imports. | exports. |-----------+-----------+-----------+----------- | . | . | . | . ------------+-----------+-----------+-----------+----------- | rubles. | rubles. | rubles. | rubles. | | | | kertch | , | , | , | , theodosia | , | , | , , | , eupatoria | , | , | , , | , , balaclava | , | | | +-----------+-----------+-----------+----------- total | , , | , , | , , | , , ------------+-----------+-----------+-----------+----------- be it remarked that among the exports corn alone figured in for , rubles for theodosia, and , , rubles for eupatoria; and as all this corn came from countries beyond the crimea, the nullity of the peninsular exportation is apparent. moreover, the gross total of three and a half millions is scarcely the fifteenth part of the annual exportation of the town of odessa alone. in order to give a more exact idea of the industrial and commercial situation of the crimea, we set down the details of its exports and imports in . imports. ---------------------------+-----------+------------+-----------+ articles. | kertch. | theodosia. | eupatoria.| ---------------------------+-----------+------------+-----------+ | rubles. | rubles. | rubles. | cotton | , | , | | cotton thread | , | , | | turkish cotton cloths | , | , | | chairs | , | | | wooden vessels | , | , | | woollen caps | , | , | | oil | , | , | , | sickles | , | | | wines | , | , | , | porter | , | , | | cassonade | , | | | fresh and dried fruit | , | , | , | fine pearls | | , | | coffee | | , | , | linen thread | | , | | nard juice and grapes | | , | | turkish tobacco | | , | , | olives | | , | | raw silk | | , | | dyed silk thread | | , | | oak galls | | | , | colours | | | , | vegetables | | | , | pepper | | | , | ---------------------------+-----------+------------+-----------+ exports. ---------------------------+-----------+------------+----------- articles. | kertch. | theodosia. | eupatoria. ---------------------------+-----------+------------+----------- | rubles. | rubles. | rubles. raw hides | , | , | , fish | , | | red caviar | , | | linseed | , | | rapeseed | , | | wheat | , | , | , , wool | , | , | , cordage | | , | woollen felt | | , | , tanned leather | | , | , flax, hemp, and stuffs | | , | , butter | | , | , bar iron | | , | , salt | | , | , soda | | , | rye | | , | , barley | | , | , , millet | | , | , glue | | | , raw hemp | | | , locks | | | , copper utensils | | | , brass, and brass wire | | | , cutlery | | | , swords and epaulettes | | | , sheep skins | | | , suet | | | , turpentine | | | , beans | | | , flour | | | , raw silk | | | , ---------------------------+-----------+------------+----------- we do not at all coincide in opinion with those who attribute the decadence we have just described to the general character of the people of the east. the orientals, it is true, have none of that feverish activity which characterises the people of our climes; besides which their wants are so limited and so easily satisfied, that they can never, in their present social condition, become strenuous workers. yet we have seen that the tatars, when they first occupied the country, were distinguished for their agricultural and industrial labours, whether it was in consequence of their mixture with the old races, or merely of the propitious climate; they also employed themselves with such success in gardening and the cultivation of the vine and of corn, that the crimea under the khans was considered one of the chief regions whence constantinople drew its supplies. it was only the steppe tribes, whose sole wealth was their cattle, that remained true to their primitive habits and their nomade life. in like manner there exists to this day a very striking difference, both intellectual and physical, between the two fractions of the mussulman race of the crimea. we believe, therefore, that under a better system it would have been easy to revive the laborious disposition of the tatars by facilitating and encouraging commercial transactions, and gradually effacing the disheartening apprehensions under which the mussulman population have naturally laboured since their great calamities befel them. assuredly we cannot blame russia for that depopulation of the country which was the first cause of its decadence. as victors, the russians used all the rights of the strong hand to consolidate their conquest and extinguish all chance of insurrection. the means no doubt were violent, disastrous, and often even exceeded all the bounds of humanity; yet it was scarcely possible but that excesses should be committed in a war between russian christians and mussulman tatars, who had so often braved, triumphed over, and swayed the muscovite power. in fairness, therefore, we can only criticise the measures adopted by the russian government subsequently to the conquest, from the day when the country was completely pacified, and the tatars submitted implicitly to the new yoke, and lost all hope of deliverance. we have already seen how an act of caprice annihilated the commercial prosperity of theodosia, which would naturally have had the greatest influence over the industrial development of the peninsula; and we have pointed out the mischievous measures that ruined various branches of the native trade. to these depressing causes, for which the government with its fatal system of prohibition and its half measures is alone responsible, we must add others no less active, because they principally affect the agricultural population who stand most in need of encouragement. we have already repeatedly mentioned the countless depredations of the inferior government agents. in the crimea the difference of religion and language, and the difficulty of making any kind of appeal for redress, naturally rendered the local administration more troublesome and rapacious than in any other province. the consequence was that the tatars led a life of fear and distrust, agriculture languished, and every man cultivated yearly only as much as was necessary for the subsistence of his family, that he might not excite the cupidity of the _employés_. on his accession to the government, count voronzof, with his natural kindness, applied himself strenuously to improve the condition of the tatars; he took them under his special protection, and prevented the rapacity of his underlings as far as in him lay. unfortunately, his efforts could hardly avail beyond the limits of his own estates, and all his generous intentions were baffled or worn out by the incessant pettyfogging arts of the _employés_. nothing could more signally exemplify the distrustful feelings of the tatars, than the events which occurred during the famine of , which was so great that whole families perished of hunger. moved by these misfortunes the government offered aid to the tatars, but incredible as it may appear, the proffered succours were generally refused, so much did the mussulmans dread the price which would be afterwards exacted for such assistance. towards , after the creation of the ministry of the domains of the crown under count kizilev, the imperial government set about the task in which count voronzof had failed. men of the best character for intelligence and probity were sent to the crimea, but their efforts were all ineffectual, and they soon retired in disgust from the useless struggle. the unfortunate crimea was again surrendered to the unlimited power and endless knaveries of the captain _ispravniks_, and of the worthy subaltern agents of the local administration. what are the destinies ultimately reserved for the mussulman population of the crimea,[ ] now numbering barely , souls?[ ] we are strongly inclined to anticipate its total extinction at a more or less remote date. the tribes are rapidly degenerating; the moral and physical forces of the nation are daily declining; the territorial wealth of the tatars has been destroyed, sold, or divided; the native families distinguished for their past history or for their fortunes have disappeared; the population, instead of increasing, diminishes. there remains, therefore, no element of vitality to revive the effete remains of a power that made russia tremble during so many centuries, and that even menaced for a while the political existence of all europe. footnotes: [ ] these colonies now consist of nine villages, with a population of souls. [ ] _trade of the sea of azof, in and ._ --------------------+-----------------------+---------------------- | imports. | exports. +-----------+-----------+-----------+---------- | . | . | . | . | rubles. | rubles. | rubles. | rubles. | | | | taganrok {goods | , , | , , | , , | , , {cash | , , | , , | | | | | | marcoupol {goods | | | , , | , , {cash | , | , , | | | | | | rostof on {goods | | | , , | , , the don {cash | | | | | | | | bordiansk {goods | | | , , | , , {cash | , | , | | +-----------+-----------+-----------+---------- total | , , | , , | , , | , , --------------------+-----------+-----------+-----------+---------- [ ] de la mottraye, who visited the crimea in , speaks of a soudak wine the flavour of which he compares with burgundy. at that period the wines of the northern valleys sold at - / centimes the bottle. in peyssonel's time, in , the soudak wines fetched from to centimes the bottle; those of belbek to , and those of katch, of which de la mottraye speaks, to . the ukraine cossacks and the zaporogues consumed the greatest portion of these wines; about hectolitres annually according to peyssonel. in , at the time of the russian occupation, the price of soudak wine was to centimes the litre; it rose to centimes in , during the war with turkey.--(see pallas, voyage dans la russie méridionale.) [ ] previously to count voronzof, m. rouvier, who introduced the breed of merino sheep into russia, had planted vines from malaga on the hill sides of laspi, at the western extremity of the chain; but his example had not many imitators. [ ] aidaniel is north-east of ialta, a little town, the chief station for steamboats. [ ] of roads perfectly practicable for wheeled vehicles there exist in the crimea: . the road leading from simpheropol to sevastopol, skirting the northern slope of the tauric chain; its length is thirty-nine english miles; . that from simpheropol to ialta, crossing the mountains at the foot of the tchatir dagh, forty-nine miles; . that from ialta to balaclava, proceeding along the southern coast as far as foros, where it passes on to the northern side of the mountains; its length is forty miles between ialta and foros; the second portion was in course of construction in . this line of road seems to us extremely ill-contrived. it has been carried along the very foot of the jura-limestone cliffs, for the purpose of avoiding expense in crossing the ravines; and thus it is completely exterior to the vine-growing and cultivable district, and every proprietor who desires to use it must make a private road at his own expense, in order to reach the elevated level of the highway. we say nothing of the roads in the plains, the construction of which, just as in the interior of russia, consists merely in tracing the breadth and direction by a ditch on either side. [ ] hitherto the tatars have been exempted from military service; they are merely required to furnish one squadron to the imperial guard, to be discharged every five years. as for the taxes imposed on them they amount to the illusory sum of _s._ _d._ for every male individual, not including duty work on roads, transports, &c. [ ] the total population of the crimea is about , , including russians, greeks, armenians, karaïtes, germans, and other foreigners. chapter xliii. historical sketch of bessarabia. topology--ancient fortresses--the russian policy in bessarabia--emancipation of the serfs--colonies-- cattle--exports and imports--mixed population of the province. to complete our account of the southern regions of russia, it remains for us to speak of bessarabia, the most remote province which the tzars possess on the shores of the black sea, and the country which formed, down to the commencement of the present century, one of the most valuable possessions of the principality of moldavia. we will not now endeavour to withdraw the veil that covers the history of past ages, or discuss the effects produced upon this province by the expeditions of darius and of alexander, the roman conquests, the tatar invasions, and the mussulman dominion: we will confine ourselves to contemporaneous facts, the only ones which can have some chance of exciting, if not interest, at least curiosity. bessarabia is bounded on the south by the danube, north and east by the dniepr and the black sea, and west by the pruth, which separates it from moldavia, and by bukovine, a dependency of austria. it thus forms between two rivers which might easily be rendered navigable, a strip of more than english miles in length, with an average breadth not exceeding fifty. this strip, which expands gradually as it approaches the sea, is divided into two regions, totally distinct both in population and in topographical character. the southern part, to which the tatars have given the name of boudjiak, consists of the flat country which extends to the sea between the mouths of the danube and lower part of the dniestr. it has all the characteristics of the russian steppes, possesses but a few insignificant streams, and is chiefly fitted for rearing cattle; it yields little to tillage, except in some localities along the watercourses, where numerous colonies of germans and bulgarians are settled. the northern part adjoining austria is, on the contrary, a hill country, beautifully diversified, covered with magnificent forests, and rich in all the productions of the most favoured temperate climates. at the period when the russians appeared on the banks of the dniestr, the boudjiak steppes were occupied by nogai tatars, nomades for the most part, who after having been at first tributary to the khans of the crimea, had placed themselves under the protection of the porte; whilst the northern region was possessed by a numerous moldavian population, essentially agricultural, subjected to the laws of serfdom, and acknowledging the authority of the hospodars of jassy. the ottoman power was represented solely by military garrisons holding peaceful possession of the two fortresses of ismael and kilia on the danube, and those of khotin, bender, and ackerman, on the dniestr. the fortress of ismael is famous for the sieges sustained in it by the turks against souvarof. its fortifications have not been much increased by russia; she keeps in it a numerous garrison, and a considerable amount of artillery. the little flotilla of the danube is stationed at the foot of the walls. the fort of kilia is now quite abandoned. the fortress of khotin is half of genoese, half of turkish construction. the citadel or castle is an irregular square, flanked by enormous towers. the turks and the russians have added new fortifications to the old works, without however increasing the strength of the position. in the present state of military art, khotin is of no importance whatever. commanded on all sides by hills, and situated on the very edge of the dniestr, it would not resist a regular siege of a few hours. the walls consist of courses of brick and cut stone, and bear numerous genoese inscriptions. over the principal gate are seen a lion and a leopard, chained beside an elephant bearing a tower. these figures are in the eastern style, and date from the time of the turks. the doors and the uprights of the windows are adorned with verses from the koran. the great mosque of the fortress has unfortunately been demolished, and nothing remains of it but its minaret, which stands alone in the midst of the place, as if to protest against the vandalism of the conquerors. on the other side of the dniestr, at a short distance from the river, is kaminietz, the capital of podolia. bender and ackerman likewise possess two castles of genoese and turkish construction: the latter situated on the liman of the dniestr, has been abandoned; the former, which stands on the main road to turkey, has a garrison. between bender and khotin, on the banks of the dniestr, are the ruins of a fourth fortress called soroka, which merits a special description, inasmuch, as it is altogether different from the other edifices we have noticed in southern russia. it forms a circular enclosure of thirty-one mètres, interior diameter. at four equidistant points of the circumference, stand as many towers, projecting externally in a semi-cylindrical form, whilst on the interior they are prismatic. between the two towers on the river side, there is a fifth which commands the single gate of the castle. the interior diameter of the towers is . mètres; the thickness of the walls is . mètres. they have embrasures in the upper parts, and a few openings at various heights. all round the walls in the inner court there is a circular range of apartments on the ground, in tolerable preservation, and consisting of ten casemates seven mètres deep, lighted only from within. they formed probably, the stables of the fortress. above this range are the remains of an upper story, which, of course, served with the towers for lodging the garrison. the whole building exhibits the greatest solidity, and the mortar is wonderfully hard. but it is a bitter disappointment to the traveller that there are no inscriptions on the walls, or sculpture of any kind to fix the date of the edifice. the fortress never had ditches; its strength consists only in the height and thickness of its walls. the only entrance is towards the dniestr, four or five yards from the scarp that flanks the river. this arrangement was probably adopted in order to secure a means of retreat, and of receiving provisions by way of the river.--the general appearance of the castle reminded me of the roman fortresses erected against the barbarians, remains of which exist in many parts of europe. bessarabia was justly considered, at the period referred to above, as one of the most fertile and productive provinces of the black sea. ismael and remy were its two great export markets for corn; ackerman sent numerous cargoes of fruit and provisions of all kinds yearly to constantinople; the magazines of the fortresses were profusely filled with wheat and maize; the countless flocks of the boudjiak steppes supplied wool to the east and to italy; and austria alone drew from them annually upwards of , heads of cattle. such were the circumstances of bessarabia at the time when the russians, in the worst moment of their disasters, at the very time when napoleon was entering their ancient capital, had the courageous cleverness to obtain the cession of that province, and advance their frontier to the danube, at the same time securing the inestimable advantage of being free to withdraw their troops from it, and march them against the invader. when the russians took possession, the nogais, many tribes of whom had previously emigrated, completely forsook their old possessions, and withdrew beyond the danube, and thus there remained in bessarabia only the moldavian population, who were greek christians, like the russians. the conduct of the government towards the bessarabians was at first as accommodating and liberal as possible. official pledges were given them, that they should retain their own language, laws, tribunals, and administrative forms of all kinds. the governors of the country were chosen from among the natives, and the province remained in the full enjoyment of its commercial immunities and franchises, which were the grand bases of its agricultural prosperity. but these valuable privileges soon begot jealousies; the old administration fell into discredit through its own injudicious pretensions, and perhaps also in consequence of political intrigues against it, and it became exposed to the incessant hostility even of the boyars. the outcry was so great, that the emperor alexander, wishing to satisfy the population, determined that a new constitution should be framed, which should be more in harmony with the habits, the wants, and the state of civilisation of the country. a committee of twenty-eight was appointed to draw up this constitution, conspicuous among whom was m. pronkoul, one of the most eminent boyars of the country. he had the chief hand in framing the constitution, and he promoted the adoption of its most liberal articles, with a very laudable spirit and much cleverness, no doubt, but with by no means a just discernment of the state of things. as soon as the commission had completed its task, alexander visited bessarabia, in , and was welcomed with the most cordial gladness, and the most sumptuous rejoicings. he received from the province a national present of horses, and was quite amazed at the prosperity and the inexhaustible resources of his new conquest. it was naturally desired to take the opportunity of his presence for the ratification of the new constitution; but that was not to be had so readily, since it brought in question the principle of the political unity of the empire. it was rightly represented to alexander that it would be imprudent and impolitic to give a final and decisive sanction to a system, the real value and fitness of which could only be made known by time. the emperor yielded to these considerations, and merely ordered that the constitution should be put in force, without prejudice to the future. the fundamental principles of this constitution were as liberal as possible; too liberal, indeed, to have had the slightest chance of enduring. bessarabia retained all its nationality; the governor and the vice-governor alone could be russians, all the other functionaries were to be moldavians; the province continued to enjoy all commercial immunities, and the finances, too, were under the immediate inspection and control of the natives. to any man of common sense and foresight, the maintenance of such a constitution was a chimera. was it to be imagined that russia would allow the subsistence of a conquered province on its extreme frontiers, in contact with turkey, governing itself by its own laws, and possessing an administration diametrically opposed to that which controls the other governments of the empire? the moldavian boyars nevertheless considered the promulgation of the constitution as a victory, and thought in their infatuation they might defy all the chances of the future. but events soon undeceived them, and the mismanagement of their own institutions provoked the first blow against their privileges. in accordance with old customs the government continued to sell the taxes by auction, and they were generally farmed by the great landowners of the province. this vicious system of finance, which had been practised under the oriental regimen of the hospodars, could not fail to have fatal consequences under the new system of things. as we have already said, bessarabia had retained her commercial freedom in its full extent after her union with russia. it rapidly degenerated into an abuse, through the improvident prodigality of the moldavians, and the extravagant ideas of civilisation and progress that fermented in all their brains; luxury increased beyond measure among the nobles, and kichinev, the capital, became famous through all the country for its sumptuous festivities, and the wealth of its ware-rooms. the consequence was that the receipts of the treasury proceeded in the inverse ratio of the progress of luxury; and the farmers, whose expenses swallowed up more than the revenue, were last unable to pay the sums they had contracted for. the imperial government was of course indulgent during the first years, and had not recourse to any severe measures. this conduct encouraged the defaulters, and the disorder of the finances at last reached such a pass as called indispensably for the strenuous intervention of the imperial government. the commercial franchises of the province were suppressed therefore in , the prohibitive system of the imperial customs was introduced, and the payment of all arrears was rigorously exacted. this last measure of course gave occasion to endless suits and executions, and so the ruin of the principal families was accomplished at the same time as the destruction of all their political influence, and the government had then only to fix the day when its principles of political unity should have complete force in its new conquest. the constitution thus impaired, subsisted, however, until the death of alexander; but on the accession of nicholas it was completely suppressed; bessarabia was deprived of all its privileges, and even of its language, and was assimilated in all points of administration to the other provinces of the empire; with the exception, however, that the government, in order to ensure the ulterior success of its measures, took from the inhabitants the right of electing their captain ispravniks, or officers of rural police.[ ] so radical a revolution could not be effected without bringing with it serious perturbations. it is enough to recollect what we have said of the venality of the public functionaries, in order to guess what the bessarabians must have had to endure at the hands of that multitude of russian _employés_ who took up their quarters in the towns and villages. the intrigues and pettyfogging artifices of these men complicated more and more the already numerous lawsuits; and the daily increasing perplexities in the relations between the landowners, the freedmen, and the serfs, overthrew all the elements of the national wealth. to all these causes of disorganisation were added the military occupation of the country in the time of the turkish war, and this was the more onerous because the rich procured themselves exemption for money, and the whole burden fell on the petty proprietors and the peasants. when the country fell into this state of exhaustion, the boyars were not slow to remonstrate: and they did so with such vehemence, on the occasion of the journey of the emperor nicholas, in , that he resolved to have a commission appointed, to report to him at st. petersburg, on the grievances of the province. the election of the commissioners took place immediately; but as the boyars revived their old pretensions, whilst the government strenuously adhered to its system of political unity, it was not possible to come to an understanding respecting the ameliorations to be introduced into the administrative regimen. the elections, after being frequently annulled and recommenced, produced no result, and the last commission named was finally dissolved without having been able to repair to st. petersburg. all these long altercations necessarily produced asperity in the relations of bessarabia with the superior administration, and at last the imperial government, weary of these discussions, was ready to take any measure to reduce the moldavians to the most absolute political and administrative nullity, even to the prejudice of the national prosperity. to this end it was determined to cut off the last means of influence which serfdom afforded to the boyars, by issuing an ukase, by virtue of which all serfs were declared free, with the right of residing where they pleased. the consequences of this abrupt emancipation were, of course, disastrous to agriculture. urged by intrigues, or by the chimerical hope of bettering their physical condition, the serfs abandoned their old abodes to settle elsewhere, and chiefly on the lands recently acquired by the russians. in this way many villages were left deserted, the lands remained untilled, and the landowners found themselves suddenly deprived of the hands necessary for their work. putting aside all political considerations, this measure of the government was unquestionably premature. nothing in the moral or physical condition of the bessarabians could as yet justify so radical a destruction of all that belonged to the old system. the state of the serfs was in fact very tolerable, and quite in harmony with the civilisation of the country. the peasants were no further bound to the soil, than inasmuch as a certain portion of it was placed at their disposal. their duties to their lords were defined by rule, and consisted generally of eighteen days' labour in the year, some haulages, and the tithes of their produce. the landowners, no doubt, occasionally abused their power in a cruel manner; but these abuses were not without remedy. a resolute and conscientious administration might easily have put an end to them. under the present system, the peasants possessing no lands appeared to us in reality much more enslaved, and in a far less satisfactory physical condition. formerly, the interests of the lords and the serfs were closely united, the prosperity of either necessarily inferred that of the others; but now that the emancipated serfs, possessing no means of subsistence of their own, cultivate the land only in virtue of a contract, the landowners think only how to get as much profit out of them as possible, during the time the engagement lasts, and care nothing what becomes of them afterwards. the peasants, it is true, have a right of appealing to the tribunals; but in consequence of the venality of the latter, their complaints generally serve only to put them to expense, and make their condition worse. a rich boyar said very naïvely to me on this subject, "how do you suppose the husbandman can obtain justice, when for every egg he gives we give a silver ruble?" again, the frequent changes of abode are very pernicious, from the loss of time and the expense they occasion. other dwellings must be built, new habits must be contracted; the peasant is soon reduced to destitution, and finds himself obliged to accept whatever terms are offered him. in this way the dependence of the rural population is but the more grievous for being limited, and their situation towards the landlords is without security for the present, or guarantee for the future. nor have their duty labours undergone any modification, and the abuses are exactly the same as under the old régime. without exceeding the limits of the regulations, a peasant pays his master tithes of all agricultural produce, besides ^r. for every head of large cattle, . for each sheep, and one hive of honey out of every fifty he possesses. he takes upon himself, moreover, all repairs of buildings, enclosures, &c., supplies night watchers, executes annually at least three haulages over thirty-eight miles of ground, and seldom works less than twenty-eight or thirty days for his landlord, often as much as fifty or even sixty. in point of physical welfare, therefore, the results of emancipation are quite illusory, and the more so as the peasants enjoy no political rights, and support all the burdens and _corvées_. in fine, the new system has as yet produced only loss, trouble, and embarrassment, both to large and small fortunes. as to hopes for the future, none can be seriously conceived, except for very distant times. it will require many years even for a wise and enlightened administration to rectify the state of a country whose population consists of a scanty body of landowners, and a mass of peasants without fixed domicile, possessing no other resources than the chance of a limited engagement, and the labour of their hands. we will not go into details of all the measures adopted by the russian government with reference to the agricultural and commercial affairs of bessarabia: they were as contradictory and as irrational as those we have noticed in our account of the crimea. the immigrations of the bulgarians[ ] and germans,[ ] it is true, were favoured, and they were granted the most fertile lands of the boudjiak; several villages of cossacks[ ] and of great russians[ ] were settled in the same regions; and attempts were even made with some success to colonise a few nomade tribes of gipsies.[ ] but all these excellent creations, the first idea of which belongs to the head of the state, were largely counterbalanced by the mischievous measures of the local boards. thus, for instance, in consequence of the division among the great landlords of all the immense meadows formerly possessed by the hospodars, and which they used to rent out in pasture, the national business of rearing zigai sheep was destroyed, and gave place to some ruinous attempts to introduce the merino breed. extreme injury was done at the same time to the breeding of horses and horned cattle, a business which the government had already seriously damaged by forcing the proprietors of such stock to become russian subjects or give up their employment, and by impeding by countless vexatious formalities the entrance of foreign merchants into the province, and their sojourn in it. in , bessarabia sold only horses, whereas formerly austria alone drew from it from , to , every year for her cavalry.[ ] the following general table of the exports and imports of bessarabia by the danube and by land is drawn up from official documents. it cannot, however, indicate precisely the commercial situation of bessarabia, since a considerable portion of the goods declared in five places named belongs only to the transit trade through the province, which, moreover, receives a quantity of manufactured and other goods from southern russia that are not mentioned at all in the table. our figures would require a certain reduction to make them accurately represent the true state of the case. by the danube.--imports. -----------------------+-----------------------+---------------------- | . | . names of places. +-----------+-----------+-----------+---------- | goods. | cash. | goods. | cash. -----------------------+-----------+-----------+-----------+---------- | rubles. | rubles. | rubles. | rubles. ismael | , | , , | , | , reny | , | , | , | , +-----------+-----------+-----------+---------- total | , | , , | , | , , exports. ismael | , , | , | , , | reny | , | , | , | , +-----------+-----------+-----------+---------- total | , , | , | , , | , by land.--imports. novo selitza, austrian | | | | frontier | , | , , | , | , , skouleni on the pruth | , | , | , | , leovo on the pruth | , | , | , | , +-----------+-----------+-----------+---------- total | , | , , | , | , , exports. novo selitza | , , | , | , , | , skouleni | , | , | , | , leovo | , | , | , | , +-----------+-----------+-----------+----------- total | , , | , | , , | , -----------------------+-----------+-----------+-----------+----------- total of the customs and other duties realised in , in the five localities above-named, , rubles, and in , , rubles. from some scattered details we have already given, the reader may conjecture that the population of bessarabia is exceedingly mixed. the boudjiak numbers among its inhabitants, great russians, cossacks, germans, bulgarians, swiss vine-dressers, gipsies, and greek and armenian merchants. the northern part of the province, on the contrary, is occupied almost exclusively by the moldavian race, whose villages extend even along the dniestr to the vicinity of ackerman. jews abound in the northern part; there are very few in the towns of the boudjiak; leaving them out of the account the bessarabian population may be divided into four great classes: the nobles, the free peasants who possess lands, the newly emancipated peasants, and the gipsies. the nobles consist of the ancient moldavian aristocracy, the public functionaries, retired officers, and a great number of russians, who have become landowners in the province. to this class we must join the mazils, who are descendants of the ancient boyars, but whom war and the numerous revolutions that have desolated the land have reduced to penury. they form at present an intermediate class between the new nobles and the peasantry, and differ from the aristocracy only in not taking part in the elections of the judges and marshals of the nobles. the free peasants are those, who, having been emancipated in times more or less remote, possess lands, and depend neither on the great landlords nor on the crown, though subject to ordinary imposts and _corvées_. the newly liberated peasants consist of those who are settled, by virtue of a contract or agreement, on lands belonging to individuals or to the crown; they form the majority of the population. the bohemians are still subjected to the laws of slavery. some of them, to the number of families, belong to the crown, and the rest to moldavian landowners, who usually employ them as servants, workmen, and musicians. in bessarabia, as throughout russia and the principalities of the danube, the new generation of nobles have completely renounced the habits of former days. they have of course adopted the straight coat, trousers, cravat, and all the rest of our western costume; there is nothing striking in their outward appearance. the old boyars alone adhere to their ancestral customs; a broad divan, pipes, coffee, dolces, and the kieff after dinner, are indispensable for them; and to some of them shampooing is a delicious necessity. i know a certain nobleman who cannot fall asleep without having his feet rubbed by his bohemian. but what above all strikes and delights every stranger, especially a frenchman, is the eager and cordial hospitality and kindness he encounters in every moldavian house. one is sure of meeting everywhere with men who sympathise heartily with every thing great and useful to mankind which our civilisation and our efforts have produced in these latter times. it is only to be regretted that these brilliant qualities are often tarnished by the corruption which administrative venality and rapacity, supervening upon long military occupations, have insensibly diffused through all classes of the population. the bessarabian of the lower class is by nature a husbandman; he very rarely plies a trade. to know his real worth he must be seen in the interior of the country, far from the towns. the moldavian peasant is brave, gay, and hospitable; he delights to welcome the stranger, and generally would be ashamed to receive the slightest present from him. the russians accuse him of excessive sloth, but the charge appears unfounded. the moldavian peasant seldom, indeed, thinks of accumulating money, but he always works with zeal until he has attained the position he had aspired to, the amount of comfort he had set his heart on; and, in reality, it is not until after the fulfilment of his desires that he becomes lazy, and that his efforts are generally limited to procuring his family the few sacks of maize necessary for its subsistence. but increase his wants, make him understand that there are other enjoyments than those in which he indulges so cheaply, and you will infallibly see him shake off his natural apathy, and rise to the level of the new ideas he has adopted. the most charming thing in the moldavian villages is the extreme cleanliness of the houses, which are generally surrounded by gardens and thriving orchards. enter the forest dwelling, and you will almost always find a small room perfectly clean, furnished with a bed, and broad wooden divans covered with thick woollen stuffs. bright parti-coloured carpets, piles of cushions, with open work embroideries, long red and blue napkins, often interwoven with gold and silver thread, are essential requisites in every household, and form a principal portion of the dowery of young women. in general, the women take little part in field labours, but they are exceedingly industrious housewives. they are all clever weavers, and display great art and taste in making carpets, articles of dress, and linen. the great object of emulation among the women of every village, is to have the neatest and most comfortable house, and the best supplied with linen and household utensils. such was bessarabia, when i visited it in detail, on my return from my long journeys in the steppes of the caspian. i visited it a second time when about to quit russia for the principalities of the danube; and when i crossed the pruth, i could not help reiterating my earnest prayers that the inexhaustible resources of this province may at last be duly appreciated, and that effectual measures may be taken to put an end to that languor and depression in which it has been sunk for so many years. footnotes: [ ] bessarabia now includes nine districts, the capitals of which, beginning from the south, are ismael, ackerman, kahoul, bender, kichinev, orgeiev, beltz, soroka, and khotin. kichinev is the capital of the government; it was formerly a poor borough on the bouik, a little river that falls into the dniestr; the preference was given it on account of its central position. its population is now , , of whom from , to , are jews. it is to the administration of lieutenant-general foederof that the town owes the numerous embellishments, and the principal public edifices it presents to the traveller's view. [ ] the bulgarian colonies, the most prosperous of all those that have been established in the boudjiak, numbered in , , families, comprising , males, and , females. the surface of their lands has been estimated at , hectares, of which , are fit for tillage and hay crops, and , are waste. the bulgarian colonists pay the crown rubles per family. the corn harvest amounted, in , to , tchetverts. they have contrived to preserve among them the breed of zigai sheep, the long strong wool of which is in demand in the east, and formed, previously to the russian occupation, the chief wealth of the bessarabians: they now possess about , . [ ] the german colonies include nineteen villages and families. they are in a very backward condition. [ ] after the destruction of the celebrated setcha of dniepr, the zaporogue cossacks withdrew in great numbers beyond the danube, and settled with the permission of the turks on that secondary branch of the balkan which runs between isaktchy and toultcha. during the wars of and , the russian government contrived to gain the allegiance of many of the descendants of these zaporogues who served it as spies. their number was so considerable that after the campaign russia formed them into military colonies in the boudjiak. these colonies increased greatly in consequence of the asylum they afforded to all the refugees and vagabonds of russia, and presented, in , an effective of two regiments of cavalry of men each, with a total population of families, having eight villages and , hectares of land. [ ] we have no exact data respecting these villages, the situation of which is wretched enough. their population consists entirely of fugitives, to whom the government had for many years granted an asylum in bessarabia to the detriment of the neighbouring government. [ ] the gipsies have three villages containing families. the establishment of these colonies was not effected without difficulty, and it required all the severity of a military administration to make them sow their grounds. [ ] since our departure, the russian government seems disposed to interest itself on behalf of bessarabia. we are informed that it is at present turning its attention to the navigation of the dniestr, a matter of the more importance since the dniestr washes bessarabia throughout its whole length, and there is not yet in that province any means of communication practicable at all seasons. note. to complete our author's account of sevastopol, we subjoin an abstract of a paper by mr. shears, c.e., which was read at the meeting of the institution of civil engineers, january , . "sevastopol is very peculiarly situated, amidst rocky ground, rising so abruptly from the shore, that there was not space for the buildings necessary for a dockyard. on account of the depth of water close in shore, and other natural advantages, the emperor determined to make it the site of an extensive establishment, and as there is not any rise of tide in the black sea, and the construction of cofferdams would have been very expensive and difficult in such a rocky position, it was decided to build three locks, each having a rise of ten feet, and at this level of thirty feet above the sea to place a main dock with lateral docks, into which vessels of war could be introduced, and the gates being closed, the water could be discharged by subterranean conducts to the sea, and the vessel, being left dry, could be examined and repaired, even beneath the keel. a stream was conducted from a distance of twelve miles to supply the locks, and to keep the docks full; this, however, has been found insufficient, and a pumping-engine has since been erected by messrs. maudsley and field, for assisting. "the original intention was to have made the gates for the docks of timber, but on account of the ravages of a worm, which it appears does not, as in the case of the teredo navalis or the tenebranes, confine itself to the salt water, it was resolved to make them with cast iron frames covered with wrought iron plates. "there are nine pairs of gates, whose openings vary from feet in width and feet inches in height for ships of guns, to feet inches in width, and feet in height, for frigates. "the manipulation of such masses of metal as composed these gates demanded peculiar machines; accordingly, messrs. rennie fitted up a building expressly, with machines constructed by mr. whitworth, by which all the bearing surfaces could be planed, and the holes bored in the ribs, and all the other parts, whether their surfaces were curved or plane. the planing was effected by tools which travelled over the surface, backward and forward, cutting each way; the piece of metal being either held in blocks, if the surface was plane, or turned on centres, if the surface was curved. the drilling was performed by machines, so fixed, that the pieces could be brought beneath or against the drills, in the required direction, and guided so as to insure perfect uniformity and accordance between them. "travelling cranes were so arranged, as to take the largest pieces from the wharf, and place them in the various machines, by the agency of a very few men, notwithstanding their formidable dimensions; the heelposts in some cases being upwards of feet long. each endless screw, for giving progressive motion to the cutting tools, was feet long. some idea may be formed of the manual labour avoided by the machines, when it is stated, that the surface planed or turned in the nine pairs of gates equals , square inches; and in some cases a thickness of three-quarters of an inch was cut off. the surface in the drilled bolt holes equals , square inches." the paper gave all the details of the construction of the gates, and the machinery for making them; and was illustrated by a series of detailed drawings. the end. c. whiting, beaufort house, strand. +-----------------------------------------------------+ | | | typographical errors corrected in the text: | | | | page v ickaterinoslav changed to iekaterinoslav | | page v debats changed to débats | | page accomodation changed to accommodation | | page etsablished changed to established | | page bord changed to board | | page that changed to than | | page debats changed to dÉbats | | page orgie changed to orgy | | page porticos changed to porticoes | | page satify changed to satisfy | | page party changed to parti | | page alsacian changed to alsatian | | page azor changed to azov | | page guerillero changed to guerrillero | | page "every thing is matter of surprise" | | changed to "every thing is a matter | | of surprise" | | page cassino changed to casino | | page choses changed to chooses | | page subsistance changed to subsistence | | page bead changed to head | | page acording changed to according | | page gengis changed to genghis | | page gengis changed to genghis | | page alsacean changed to alsacian | | page it changed to its | | page stupified changed to stupefied | | paqe vieing changed to vying | | page rareties changed to rarities | | page tibetian changed to tibetan | | page tondoutof changed to tondoudof | | page samarcand changed to samarkand | | page hectrolitres changed to hectolitres | | page semovar changed to samovar | | page gaolors changed to gaolers | | page wo-begone changed to woe-begone | | page semovar changed to samovar | | page downfal changed to downfall | | page predecesssors chaned to predecessors | | page tourgouth changed to torgouth | | page latitiude changed to latitude | | page batallions changed to battalions | | page ghenghis changed to genghis | | page boudjak changed to boudjiak | | page earthern changed to earthen | | page fistycuffs changed to fisticuffs | | page suprise changed to surprise | | page bukharest changed to bucharest | | page caucausus changed to caucasus | | page emmaneul changed to emmanuel | | page manghislak changed to manghishlak | | page incontestibly changed to incontestably | | page taibout changed to taitbout | | page formalties changed to formalities | | page cashmires changed to cashmeres | | page bagtchte changed to bagtche | | page moolight changed to moonlight | | page filagree changed to filigree | | page belfrey changed to belfry | | page ebulitions changed to ebullitions | | page thngs changed to things | | page fhe changed to the | | page sweatmeats changed to sweetmeats | | page ghenghis changed to genghis | | page soudah changed to soudagh | | page griffen changed to griffin | | page guerei changed to guerai | | page recuscitate changed to resuscitate | | page cossaks changed to cossacks | | page ^ indicates a superscript letter | | following the symbol | | page skoulein changed to skouleni | +-----------------------------------------------------+ in search of a siberian klondike as narrated by washington b. vanderlip the chief actor and herein set forth by homer b. hulbert illustrated with many photographs [illustration: publisher's mark] new york the century co. copyright, , by the century co. _published, october, _ the de vinne press to "the little mother" contents chapter page i. outfit and supplies rumor of gold in northeastern asia--plan to prospect through kamchatka and north to bering strait--steamer _cosmopolite_--russian law in the matter of liquor traffic--i make up my party and buy supplies--korean habits of dress--linguistic difficulties ii. saghalien and the convict station at korsakovsk departure of the expedition--arrival at korsakovsk--condition of convict station--freedom allowed prisoners, most of whom are murderers--wreck of the steamer and loss of outfit--gold lace and life-preservers--return to korsakovsk--russian table manners--the russian's naïve attitude toward bathing--some results of the intermarriage of criminals--how yankee shrewdness saved some confiscated photographs--pleasant sensations on being shaved by a murderer--predominance of american goods iii. petropaulovsk and southern kamchatka volcanoes of kamchatka and the superstitious natives--the first prospecting trip--copper found, but no gold--mosquitos cause an evacuation of the land--the typical chinese peddler iv. salmon-fishing in the far north tide that rises twenty-five feet--wholesale suicide of salmon-- fish-eyes as a delicacy for sea-gulls--how the natives store fish for the sledge-dogs--the three varieties of salmon--an arcadian land for the birds v. the town of ghijiga the sacred icon and the sewing-machine both in evidence--the native "process of getting married"--mrs. braggin's piano--american pack-saddles and russian obstinacy--theodosia chrisoffsky and his sixty descendants vi. off for the tundra--a native family hard traveling--the native women--a mongrel race--chrisoffsky's home and family and their ideas of domestic economy--boiled fish-eyes a native delicacy--prospecting along the ghijiga vii. tunguse and korak hospitality my korak host--"bear!"--i shoot my first arctic fox--my tunguse guide--twenty-two persons sleep in a twelve-foot tent--tunguse family prayers--the advent of howka--chrisoffsky once more viii. dog-sledging and the fur trade description of the sledge and its seven pairs of dogs--the harness--the useful _polka_--the start-off a gymnastic performance for the driver--methods of steering and avoiding obstructions while going at full speed--dog-trading _en route_--dog-fights are plentiful--prices of sable and other skins in the native market--the four grades of sables--how they live and what they live on--a russian writer on sable hunting--days when a native would barter eighteen sable skins for an ax ix. off for the north--a runaway my winter wardrobe of deerskin--shoes that keep the feet warm when it is sixty degrees below zero--_plemania_, a curious native food in tabloid form--other provisions--outline of proposed exploration about the sources of the ghijiga river--four hours of sun a day--when dog meets deer--a race for life and a ludicrous dénouement--more queer native dishes--curious habits of the sledge-dog x. through the drifts sledging over snow four feet deep--making a camp in the snow--finding traces of gold--a grand slide down a snow-covered hill--my polka breaks with disastrous results--prospecting over the stanovoi range xi. buried in a blizzard a trip to the northern side of the stanovoi range of mountains--nijni kolymsk, the most-feared convict station--sledging by light of the aurora--lost in a blizzard on the vast tundra--five days in a snow dug-out--i earn a reputation as a wizard--back at chrisoffsky's xii. christmas--the "deer koraks" i celebrate christmas day with the over-kind assistance of two hundred natives--koraks as sharp-shooters--comic features of a russian dance--off for kaminaw--another runaway--slaughtering deer--a curious provision of nature--eight families in one yourta--korak method of washing dishes--a herd of ten thousand deer xiii. habits and customs of the koraks the hour-glass houses--their curious construction--the natives prove to be both hospitable and filthy--dialects of dog koraks and deer koraks--some unpleasant habits--how they reckon time--making liquor out of mushrooms--curious marriage customs--clothes of the natives--queer notions of a deity--jealousy of the wandering koraks--thieving a virtue and childbirth a social function xiv. off for bering sea--the tchuktches the tchuktches are the apaches of siberia--their hospitality to americans and their hostility to russians--wherein my experiences differ from those of mr. harry dewindt--result of licking a piece of stone with the thermometer at ° below zero--konikly--power of moral suasion in dealing with a rebellious korak--the cure of a dying woman and the disgust of her husband--poll-tax and the tchuktches xv. a perilous summer trip the tundra in summer--crossing the swift paran river--literally billions of mosquitos--unique measures of protection against these pests--mad race down the uchingay river on a raft--lighting a fire with a pistol--narrow escape from drowning--fronyo proves to be a man of mettle--pak is caught stealing from slim supply of provisions and receives chastisement--subsisting on wild onions and half-ripe berries--help at last xvi. a ten-thousand-mile race persistent rumors of gold in the tchuktche peninsula--count unarliarsky--i am called to vladivostok to fit out an expedition--our vessel arrives off indian point--charging through the ice-floes--a meeting with eskimos--our prospecting proves fruitless--we meet the rival expedition in plover bay--their chagrin--the end list of illustrations washington b. vanderlip _frontispiece_ map showing the territory covered by mr. vanderlip in his search for a siberian klondike korean miners market-place, korsakovsk, saghalien island russian murderers in angle of prison-house, korsakovsk, saghalien island main street of petropaulovsk, kamchatka a river of dead salmon--august the salmon catch ghijiga russian church, ghijiga house in ghijiga occupied by mr. vanderlip and his party house of theodosia chrisoffsky, christowic start from ghijiga, summer-time. theodosia chrisoffsky and family--fourteen children village of christowic, okhotsk sea mr. vanderlip on "bill" the pride of the family mr. vanderlip crossing turumcha river sledge-dogs, showing harness and method of hitching mr. vanderlip's dog-sled loaded ghijiga river in winter deer crossing river reindeer theodosia chrisoffsky, guide mr. vanderlip and reindeer team. native winter camp mr. vanderlip on march with deer outfit reindeer herd of reindeer reindeer, herders in background reindeer--summer upper view of underground hut--home of the dog korak chinese pump one of the tchuktches--an unconquered race summit of kamchatka--first sight of bering sea kassegan, half-caste russian trader, and korak wife, living at boeta, baron koff bay, kamchatka in crater of extinct volcano, digging for sulphur. baron koff bay, kamchatka killing deer for dog-food expedition on march--"konikly" in foreground across the tundra tundra camp "kim" in summer camp on tundra reindeer feeding three little half-caste russians and native nurse, ghijiga, okhotsk sea russian miners picked up on the ice off st. lawrence island natives at indian point, siberia eskimo village, east cape--northeastern point of asia plover bay, siberia, in july preface the following pages are the result of one of those delightful partnerships in which the party of the first part had all the adventures, pleasant and otherwise, while the party of the second part had only to listen to their recital and put them down on paper. the next best thing to seeing these things for one's self is to hear of them from the lips of such a delightful raconteur as mr. vanderlip. whatever defects may be found in these pages must be laid at the door of the scribe; but whatever is entertaining and instructive is due to the keen observation, the retentive memory, and the descriptive powers of the main actor in the scenes herein depicted. h. b. h. seoul, korea, december, . in search of a siberian klondike in search of a siberian klondike chapter i outfit and supplies rumor of gold in northeastern asia--plan to prospect through kamchatka and north to bering strait--steamer _cosmopolite_--russian law in the matter of liquor traffic--i make up my party and buy supplies--korean habits of dress--linguistic difficulties. when the rich deposits of gold were found on the yukon river, and later in the beach sands of cape nome, the question naturally arose as to how far these deposits extended. sensational reports in the papers, and the stories of valuable nuggets being picked up along the adjacent coast of asia, fired the imagination of the russians, who hoped, and perhaps not without reason, to repeat the marvelous successes which had been met with on the american side. the existence of valuable gold deposits in other parts of siberia lent color to the belief that the gold-bearing belt extended across from america to siberia, and that consequently the asiatic shores of bering sea ought to be well worth prospecting. no people were ever more alive to the value of mineral deposits than the russians, and none of them have been keener in the search for gold. as evidence of this we have but to point to the vast, inhospitable wilderness of northern siberia, where gold has been exploited in widely separated districts and under conditions far more trying than those which have surrounded any similar undertaking, with the exception of the klondike. i had left chittabalbie, the headquarters of the oriental consolidated mining company,--an american firm that is successfully exploiting the gold deposits of northern korea,--and being enamoured of a wandering life, i found myself one morning entering the magnificent harbor of vladivostok, the eastern terminus of the siberian railway and the principal russian distributing center on the pacific coast. i believed that as the northeastern extremity of asia was as yet virgin ground to the prospector, there would be no better opportunity for the practice of my profession than could be found in the town of vladivostok. the surmise proved correct, and i was almost immediately engaged by a russian firm to make an extended prospecting tour in kamchatka, through the territory north of the okhotsk sea and along the shores of bering sea. this arrangement was made with the full cognizance and approval of the russian authorities. i carried a united states passport. the russians gave me another at vladivostok, and through the governor-general at that place i secured an open letter to all russian magistrates in eastern siberia, instructing them to give me whatever help i might need in the procuring of food, sledge-dogs, reindeer, guides, or anything else that i might require. not only were no obstacles put in my way, but i was treated with the utmost courtesy by these officials, who seemed to realize the possible value of the undertaking. [illustration: map showing the territory covered by mr. vanderlip in his search for a siberian klondike.] my instructions were to go first to the town of petropaulovsk, on the southern point of the peninsula of kamchatka, and explore the surrounding country for copper. the natives had brought in samples of copper ore, and it was also to be found in the beach sands near petropaulovsk, as well as in a neighboring island, called copper island, where the russians had opened up a mine some seventy years before, but without success. i was next to go north to baron koff bay, on the eastern coast of the peninsula, near its neck, and examine some sulphur deposits which were supposed to exist in that vicinity and which the government was very desirous of working. from that point i was to cross the neck of the peninsula by reindeer sledge to the head of the eastern branch of the okhotsk sea, my objective point being cape memaitch, where i was to prospect for gold. it had been reported that on two successive years an american schooner had touched at this point and carried away full cargoes of gold ore to san francisco. i was then to pass around the head of the okhotsk sea to the important trading town of ghijiga. this was the headquarters, some thirty years ago, of the russo-american telegraph company, with which mr. george kennan was connected and where he spent one winter. making this my headquarters, i was to work out in various directions in search of the yellow metal, and finally i was to use my own judgment as to whether i should strike northeast to bering strait, following the stenova range of mountains, or southward to ola, where a steamship could stop and take me off the following summer. as we shall see, the main points of this plan were carried out, though not in the order here given. as to the means for reaching kamchatka i had no choice. there is no royal mail steamship route to these boreal regions. a "tramp" steamship is annually chartered by the great firm of kunst and albers in vladivostok, and rechartered by them to the russian government, to take the governor-general on his annual visit to saghalien and the trading posts in kamchatka, and even as far northward as anadyr, situated inland from bering sea on the anadyr river. at each of these trading posts is a russian magistrate, or _nitcheilnik_, and a guard of about twenty cossacks. the annual steamer carries the supplies for these officials and for the traders, as well as the goods which are used in trade. on her return, the steamer brings back the furs of the russian chartered company, who hold all the furring rights of northeastern siberia. in the summer of the steamer _cosmopolite_ was scheduled to make the annual voyage. she was a german tramp steamer of one thousand tons. besides the captain there was but one other foreign officer. the crew was chinese. in addition to the annual mails she carried a full cargo of tea, flour, sugar, tobacco, and the thousand and one articles that make the stock in trade of the agents of the chartered company. she was allowed to carry no wines or liquors, with the exception of sixty bottles of vodka for each trader, and that for his private use only. he is strictly forbidden to sell a drop to the natives. for a first offense he is heavily fined, and for a second he serves a term of penal servitude on the island of saghalien. this law is in brilliant contrast to the methods of other governments in respect to liquors. africa and the pacific islands bear witness to the fact that, from the standpoint both of humanity and mere commercial caution, the russian government is immeasurably ahead of other powers in this respect. the sale of intoxicants demoralizes the natives and "kills the goose that lays the golden egg." of course there is an occasional evasion of the law. the natives of siberia are passionately fond of spirits of any kind, and, having tasted a single glass, will sell anything they have--even their wives and daughters--for another. when they are in liquor a single wineglass of vodka will induce them to part with furs which in the london market would bring ten pounds. besides this annual steamship, two russian men-of-war cruise north along the coast, looking for american whalers who bring alcoholic liquors to exchange for skins. i decided to take with me two koreans from vladivostok. they were gold-miners from southern siberia. being expert horse-packers and woodsmen and speaking a little russian, they were sure to be of great use to me. they were named kim and pak respectively; both are among the commonest family names in korea, the kim family having originated at least as early as b.c. kim was thirty years old and was possessed of a splendid physique. he could take up four hundred pounds of goods and carry them a quarter of a mile without resting. koreans are taught from childhood to carry heavy weights on their backs. they use a chair-like frame, called a _jigi_, which distributes the weight evenly over the shoulders and hips and enables them to carry the maximum load with the minimum of fatigue. kim was always good-natured even under the most discouraging circumstances, and he was fairly honest. pak was thirty-eight, tall and thin, but enormously strong. he enjoyed the possession of only one eye, for which reason i promptly dubbed him "dick deadeye." he was a cautious individual, and always "packed" his money in his clothes, sewed up between the various thicknesses of cloth; and whenever he had a bill to pay and could not avoid payment, he would retire to a secluded place, rip himself open, and return with the money in his hand and a mysterious look on his face, as if he had picked the money off the bushes. having secured the services of this precious pair, i promptly marched them off to the store of one enoch emory to exchange their loose korean clothes for something more suited to the work in hand. this enoch emory, by the way, is a character unique in siberian history. when sixteen years old he came out from new england as cabin-boy on a sailing vessel which had been sent by an american company to establish trading stations on the amur. he left the vessel and went into one of the company's stores. he now "owns" the company and is one of the wealthiest merchants in siberia. the company operates immense stores in nikolaievsk, blagovestchensk, and khabarovka, with a large receiving store at vladivostok. emory always favors american goods and sells immense numbers of agricultural implements and of other things in the manufacture of which america excels. this is the only great american firm in siberia. emory makes his home in moscow and comes out once a year to inspect his stores. he is a typical yankee of the david harum stamp. when my two protégés came to change korean dress for american it was difficult to decide just where the dress left off and the man began. the korean bathing habits are like those of the medieval anchorite, and an undergarment, once donned, is lost to memory. besides the two koreans, i engaged the services of a russian secretary named nicolai andrev. he was an old man and not by any means satisfactory, but he was the only one i could get who knew the russian mining laws and who could make out the necessary papers, in case i should have occasion to stake out claims. as it turned out, he hampered the movements of the party at every turn; he could not stand the hard knocks of the journey, and i was obliged to drop him later at the town of ghijiga. his lack of teeth rendered his pronunciation of russian so peculiar that he was no help to me in acquiring the language, which is not easy to learn even under the best of circumstances. i was also accompanied by a young russian naturalist named alexander michaelovitch yankoffsky. as this name was quite too complicated for everyday use, i had my choice of paring it down to "alek," "mike," or "yank," and while my loyalty to uncle sam would naturally prompt me to use the last of these i forbore and alek he became. he did not take kindly to it at first, for it is _de rigueur_ to address a russian by both his first and second names, the latter being his father's name with _vitch_ attached. this was out of the question, however, and he succumbed to the inevitable. so our complete party consisted of five men, representing three languages. none of my men knew any english, and i knew neither russian nor korean, beyond a few words and phrases. but before two months had elapsed, i had, by the aid of a pocket dictionary, my little stock of korean words, and a liberal use of pencil and paper, evolved a triglot jargon of english, korean, and russian that would have tried the patience of the most charitable philologist. the steamer was to sail in eight days, and this necessitated quick work in making up my outfit. for guns i picked a twelve-bore german fowling-piece with a rifle-barrel beneath, in order to be equipped for either small or large game without being under the necessity of carrying two guns at once; a winchester repeating rifle, - ; an . mannlicher repeating rifle; and two -caliber colt revolvers. as money is little used among the natives of the far north, it was necessary to lay in a stock of goods to use in trade. for this purpose i secured one thousand pounds of moharka tobacco. it is put up in four-ounce packages and costs fifteen rouble cents a pound. i procured also two thousand pounds of sugar both for personal use and for trade. this comes in solid loaves of forty pounds each. next in order came two thousand pounds of brick-tea. each brick contains three pounds, and in hankau, where it is put up, it costs twelve and a half cents a brick. it is made of the coarsest of the tea leaves, twigs, dust, dirt, and sweepings, and is the kind universally used by the russian peasantry. i also secured one hundred pounds of beads, assorted colors, and a goodly stock of needles, together with ten pounds of colored sewing-silks which the natives use to embroider the tops of their boots and the edges of their fur coats. then came a lot of pipe-bowls at a cent apiece, assorted "jewelry," silver and brass rings, silk handkerchiefs, powder and shot, and -caliber cartridges. the last mentioned would be useful in dealing with the natives near the coast, who commonly use winchester rifles. those further inland use the old-fashioned musket exclusively. [illustration: korean miners.] for my own use i laid in a goodly supply of armour's canned beef, canned fruits, dried fruits, lime-juice, bacon, three thousand pounds of beans, canned tomatoes, tinned butter, coffee, german beef-tea put up in capsules an inch long by half an inch thick (which proved extremely fine), and canned french soups and conserves. besides these things, and more important than all, i took two tons of black bread--the ordinary hard rye bread of russia, that requires the use of a prospecting hammer or the butt of a revolver to break it up. this was necessary for barter as well as for personal use. judging from my experiences in australia, burma, siam, and korea, as well as from my reading of nansen, i thought it best not to encumber myself with any liquors excepting four bottles of brandy, which were carried in the medicine-chest and used for medicinal purposes only. my medical outfit consisted of four main articles, quinine, morphine, iodoform, and cathartic pills. with these four one can cope with almost anything that is likely to happen. the chest contained also bandages, absorbent cotton, mustard leaves, a hot-water bottle, two small surgeon's knives, and a pair of surgical scissors. after a prolonged search for really good pack-saddles, i concluded that such things were unknown in siberia; so, calling in a chinese carpenter, i gave him a model of an arizona pack-saddle, with instructions to turn out a dozen at the shortest possible notice. i proposed to teach my koreans how to throw the "diamond hitch," but i found later, to my humiliation, that what the korean does not know about packing is not worth knowing. either kim or pak could do it quicker and better than i. two thousand years of this sort of thing have left little for the korean to learn. mining-tools were of course a necessity. even in vladivostok i could not secure what i wanted. i therefore took what i could get. i purchased drills, hammers, a crow-bar, a german pump which was guaranteed to pump sand (but which i found later would pump nothing thicker than pure water), a quantity of blasting powder called "rack-a-rock," picks, shovels, wire, nails, and other sundries. the russian shovel is an instrument of torture, being merely a flat sheet of iron with a shank for the insertion of a handle, which latter is supposed to be made and fitted on the spot. as there is no bend at the neck of the shovel, the lack of leverage makes it a most unwieldy and exasperating utensil. as for the russian pick, it has but one point, and in its construction is clumsy beyond belief. even the korean picks are better. i also carried a simple blow-pipe outfit, an aneroid, a compass, gold-screens, and gold-pans, with other necessary appliances for prospecting. these preparations were made very hurriedly, as the _cosmopolite_ was the only steamer going north during the season. tourists sometimes ask if it would not be possible to secure passage on this annual steamer and take the trip along the coast to bering sea and back. there is nothing to prevent it. the trip of three months, stopping at ten or twelve points along the coast, could be made for about three hundred roubles, a rouble representing fifty cents in gold. but the trip would be of little value or interest, because, in the first place, the natives bring down their furs to the trading stations during the winter, when the ice makes traveling possible, so that one would have very little opportunity of seeing anything of native life, or of securing any of the valuable furs that come out of this region each year. it would be impossible for the tourist to pick up any good ones in summer. outside of natives and furs, it is difficult to see what interest there could be in such a trip, unless the tourist is studying the habits of mosquitos and midges, in which case he would strike a veritable paradise. chapter ii saghalien and the convict station at korsakovsk departure of the expedition--arrival at korsakovsk--condition of convict station--freedom allowed prisoners, most of whom are murderers--wreck of the steamer and loss of outfit--gold lace and life-preservers--return to korsakovsk--russian table manners--the russian's naïve attitude toward bathing--some results of the intermarriage of criminals--how yankee shrewdness saved some confiscated photographs--pleasant sensations on being shaved by a murderer--predominance of american goods. at six o'clock in the afternoon of july , , the governor-general with his wife and suite, resplendent in gold lace and buttons, came aboard in the rain. the anchor was heaved up and we pointed southward toward the open sea, which is reached by way of a passage from half a mile to three miles wide and twelve miles long. the shore on either side bristles with armaments which, together with the narrowness of the passage, make vladivostok entirely impregnable from the sea. there is a story, however, which the russians never like to hear. one morning, after a night of dense fog, as the sun cleared away the mist, four big british men-of-war were found anchored within two hundred yards of the city, and could have blown it skyward without a shot from the batteries, being safe from the line of fire. since then big guns have been mounted to cover the inner harbor. reaching open water, we turned to the northeast and set our course toward the southern point of the island of saghalien, for the governor-general was to inspect the convict station of korsakovsk. three days of uneventful steaming at ten knots an hour brought the shores of saghalien above the horizon. we saw a long, curved beach backed by low-lying hills covered with fields and woodland. as the place could boast no harbor, we dropped anchor in the open roadstead a mile from shore. our whistle had long since waked to life an asthmatic little steam-launch, which soon came alongside. we forthwith invaded her stuffy little cabin and she waddled shoreward. as we approached the rough stone quay, we had our first glimpse of russian convict life. a gang of prisoners were at work mending the seawall. some of them wore heavy iron balls at their ankles, which they had to lift and carry as they walked, else they dragged ponderously along the ground. these balls would weigh about a hundred pounds apiece. the convicts seemed to be well fed, but were excessively dirty and unkempt. they appeared to be men of the very lowest grade of mental development. it must be remembered that no political convicts are confined on the island of saghalien. they are kept in the far interior of siberia, where the chances of escape are much less, and where there is no possibility of contact with others than their own jailers. the convicts on saghalien are almost all desperate criminals. as there is no such thing as capital punishment in siberia, saghalien is the terrestrial valhalla of these doomed men, a sort of ante-mortem purgatory. we stepped out upon the quay and walked up into the town. the street was about fifty feet wide, with a neat plank walk on either side. the houses were all log structures, but not the kind we are accustomed to associate with that name. the russian makes the best log house in the world. the logs are squared and carefully fitted together. the windows are mostly double, and the houses, all of one story, are warm enough to be habitable. the streets are lined with small shops and stores. the entire population outside of the officials consists of convicts, most of whom enjoy almost complete freedom within the limits of the town. it gives one a queer feeling to walk through the streets of a town and know that all the storekeepers, carpenters, blacksmiths, clerks, butchers, and bakers are or have been desperate criminals. this town of korsakovsk contains about two thousand people, of whom nine tenths are convicts. i asked if i might inspect the prison, expecting a prompt refusal, and was surprised when informed that i could go wherever i pleased. approaching the main entrance to the prison, i found the two heavy gates off their hinges and the convicts coming and going at their own pleasure. a sleepy cossack was on guard, and he did not even challenge me. the prison buildings were arranged around a large quadrangle. the prisoners were talking, lying about at their ease, with a few at work on little wood carvings. i was astonished to see no prison bars anywhere, but after i had looked about at my leisure, one of the officers took me in charge and led me into another part of the grounds, where we found a sentry on guard, armed only with a revolver. this guard took us in hand and conducted us to a small building which appeared to be heavily barred. inside were rows of clean, dry, whitewashed cells, half a dozen of which were occupied by convicts who had recently committed murder on the island, and were about to be sent north to the dreaded coal-mines, where they would be chained to wheelbarrows. these would be their constant companions for seven years, night and day, summer and winter. in the workshops the convicts seemed to be trying to do as little as possible. they were making tools, hinges, horse-shoes, farming-implements, and other simple ironwork. in another portion of the shops they were making wagons and carts. very many of the convicts are farmers, and they seemed to be cultivating the surrounding fields with success. in the main offices i found a dozen clerks smoking and drinking tea. they were all convicts, most of them having dark crimes to their discredit. leaving the prison, we walked down the street and soon came to a little stand, where bread and milk were being sold by a nice-looking russian girl. i asked on what charge she had been brought to saghalien. the officer interpreted my question. the girl laughed and said that she had murdered her husband. she was twenty-three years old. we had arrived at ten in the morning, and, as we left at four in the afternoon, my inspection of the town was necessarily brief, but enough had been seen to give impetus to even a very ordinary imagination. when we had all embarked again and the bell in the engine-room gave the signal for starting, we were enveloped in a thick mist; but as we had open sea before us and nothing, apparently, to fear, we drove ahead at full speed through the dense fog, pointing southeast in order to round the southern point of the island and make our way up the eastern coast. we might have been more cautious had not the governor-general been in haste. as it turned out, we would have done better to proceed more slowly; for shortly after eight o'clock, as i was sitting at dinner with the captain and the first officer, we heard the second mate on the bridge call loudly: "hard aport! ice ahead!" the captain rushed to the bridge, and i made my way to the prow of the boat. peering through the fog in the failing light, i descried a low, white line that looked like ice, behind which a great dark mass rose high in the air. we had not begun to slow down yet, and almost instantly we struck with terrific force, which threw me to my knees. i scrambled to my feet and peered over the rail. i saw that the white line was not ice, but surf, and the dark object behind it was a cliff which towered hundreds of feet in the air. [illustration: market-place, korsakovsk, saghalien island.] the utmost confusion prevailed among the chinese crew and the korean stevedores. it looked as if there would be serious trouble. i made my way as rapidly as possible to my state-room and buckled on my revolvers, tore my valise open and stuffed a package of money into my pocket, and hurried on deck to help put down any rush that the asiatics might make for the boats. the first officer was sounding the forward well, and water was already coming into the engine-room. the steamer, evidently, was making water very fast. as there were so few foreign officers, and as the russians were of no use, the captain ordered me to get out the boats. amid such confusion this was no easy task, but by means of the most sanguinary threats and the show of my revolver, i got enough men together to swing a boat over the side. fortunately, there was no sea running at the time, and affairs began to assume a more hopeful aspect when it was found that we lay on a shelving beach and could not sink. we hurriedly supplied the boats with casks of water and bags of biscuits; but as there was no immediate danger of sinking, the captain asked me to take one of the boats and explore the shore for a suitable landing-place. with a strong headlight in the prow, we pushed off in the fog; and within an hour we were back with the news that half a mile up the shore there was a good landing-place. the governor-general and his wife and staff were, of course, the first to be sent ashore. the lady seemed to take it very coolly, even more so than some of the staff. the latter, as soon as the alarm sounded, had hastened to their state-rooms and put on their swellest regimentals. their gold lace, glittering swords, and patent-leather boots seemed curiously out of place on board the wreck. it reminded me of the ancient persian custom of going into battle in full regalia. these russians left everything but their fine clothes. in due time they were landed, and then we came back and took off the crew. it was growing light and the sea was rising. the steamer began to pound on the reef, and it was evident that she would not hold together long. the captain said he was going to stay on her till she broke up. as i was an enthusiastic knight of the camera, i thought this would be a good opportunity to secure a picture of a ship going to pieces, so i determined to stay with the captain as long as possible. we remained on board all that day and the next two, taking watch, by turns, six hours at a time. we determined to rig a block and tackle over the after hatch, and although this was under water, we managed to get hold of the big russian mail-bags and haul them out. among other things, they held fifteen thousand roubles in notes. during the second day of our detention we sighted the british gunboat _archer_ passing us to the southeast on her way to kamchatka. we tried desperately to attract her attention with bombs, but did not succeed. meanwhile, the chief officer had taken the long-boat and part of the crew and sailed back to korsakovsk with a fair wind, to secure help. three days later, he returned with the steam-launch and two lighters, one of which was filled with convicts who had been brought to help in getting the steamer off the rocks, if possible. if not, they were to save what cargo they could. they were put into the forward hold and a few cases were gotten out, but all my provisions and outfit were lost except my tent, which had been sent ashore for the governor-general's wife. this, together with my valise, camera, guns, and ammunition, was all that i had to show for the careful preparation i had made. my russian friends had not enjoyed their stay on shore under the trying conditions. we threw overboard for their use all the ducks and geese, which, after disporting themselves a few minutes in honor of their new-found liberty, made their way to the shore, where they were speedily despatched with axes by the gentlemen in patent-leather boots and gold lace. we also consigned a pig to the vasty deep and it nobly struggled ashore only to meet the common fate of succulent pork. through the glass i could see the governor-general in his swell regimentals with a row of medals across his breast lugging an armful of driftwood along the shore to the fire. and so we made our way back to korsakovsk, a very discouraged and bedraggled company. the governor-general took me to the house of the chief magistrate, where i was given a comfortable room, and could once more sit down to a good table. that night i ate my first genuine russian dinner. each person as he enters a dining-room, faces the icon which hangs in the corner, and bows and crosses himself. the table was loaded with tinned preserves, pâté de foie gras, caviar, salted salmon, herrings pickled, and raw fish, sardines, cheese, sliced raw onions, cold sausages, raw cabbage, and huge piles of black and white bread. there was also the usual large carafe of pure white vodka, a powerful distilled liquor made from rye. before eating, every glass is filled and the host's health is drunk to the accompaniment of "butches sd rovia," which means, "your good health." in eating, you must reach for what you want. it is very seldom that anything is passed during this first stage of the meal. you would never suggest to your neighbor on the right to pass you the cheese; but you would rise in your place and, with a firm grasp on your knife, reach over his plate and impale the tempting morsel. if this is not possible, you leave your place and go around the table and secure your loot. there is only one thing that they will readily pass, and that is the vodka. the general aspect of things is that of a well-patronized free-lunch counter when the train is to start in five minutes. it must be confessed that russian table manners are not fashioned on ordinary european models. they closely resemble the korean method of eating at a public feast, when all the food is put on the table at once. it is a mistake to suppose this terminates a russian dinner. it has only begun. by this time the uninitiated is full to repletion unless he has been forewarned, but to the russian this is but the ante-prandial overture. everything is now cleared off the table except the vodka, which is never out of sight, and the dinner proper begins with soup. i must say that this soup is the heaviest and richest it has ever been my fortune to taste. alone, it would form a full meal for any one less robust than the ordinary russian. each guest adds to his soup two or three heaping spoonfuls of sour whipped cream. their method of eating soup appeals as much to the ear as to the eye. perhaps they go on the principle that soup must be eaten as audibly as possible, for this means that it is so good you cannot wait for it to cool. my russian naturalist, alek, was a fair sample of an educated russian, and he turned to me and said: "i see that you eat with a fork." "yes," said i; "and i see that you do not." "no; but i had a sister who studied at an english convent in japan for a year or so. when she came back she ate with a fork, but we soon laughed her out of it." the end of the russian knife is broader than the portion next the handle, and it is used both as a knife and as a spoon. they complain that the american knives do not "hold" enough. after the soup came fowls, roast meats, vegetables, and two or three more dishes made of whipped cream. these last one grows to like. their favorite form of dessert is this same sour cream, sprinkled generously with sugar and ground cinnamon. when all is seemingly over the table is again cleared, and the samovar is placed steaming upon the table. every one takes four or five glasses of hot tea, flavored with sliced lemon. some of the russian tea is very fine. it is well known that they drink the costliest as well as the cheapest grades. it is more than likely that not a pound of the very best tea grown in china ever gets farther west than russia. meanwhile every one is smoking cigarettes, men and women alike; not only after dinner but between the courses. my use of the fork was not the only thing that distinguished me while in the country of the white czar. wherever i went, the russians were highly amused at my use of the tooth-brush, which they consider a peculiarly feminine utensil. i was everywhere embarrassed by the total absence of the wash-bowl. such things seem to be unknown. a sort of can or ewer of water, with a valve in the bottom, lets out a little stream of water on the hands; or, oftener still, a mouthful of water is taken from a glass and spurted over the hands--a much more sanitary method than the american, since the russian does not wash in any vessel which has been used by others. the russian objects to any bath excepting the elaborate russian bath, and as this can be obtained only in the centers of population, the result is not edifying. even on the steamer, where hot and cold baths could be had for the asking, the bath-room was not patronized. the russians say of the english and americans that they bathe so much that they emit an offensive odor, which turns the tables on us somewhat surprisingly and casts some doubt upon the truth of the proverb that virtue is its own reward. as black, the most somber of all colors, is in truth a lack of all color, so perhaps the lack of any distinctive odor in the well-tubbed englishman strikes the russian as unpleasant. one of the waiters in attendance was a young and handsome man of twenty-five, convicted of murder. he was dressed in the picturesque costume of the cossack, and, strangely, wore a dagger at his side. the woman who brought in the samovar had killed an entire family: her husband, father-in-law, mother-in-law, and her own child. she had been married to the waiter a year since arriving at saghalien. the intermarriage of criminals raises a delicate penological question, considering what the fruit of such unions is likely to be. after dinner, i suggested to one of the governor's aides that we take a stroll, but the local magistrate vetoed this, saying that on no account must we go out on the street after six o'clock in the evening. our lives would be in immediate danger, as murders among the convicts averaged one a day on saghalien. hundreds have broken away and escaped into the interior of the island, living on game, roots, and berries. some roam the streets at night, looking for plunder, especially when a steamship is in harbor. the following day we passed a building which seemed to be full of women. they were convicts recently landed. on stated days, those male convicts whose conduct has been uniformly good are taken to this building where the women are lined up and the men are allowed to choose wives for themselves. the women are quite willing to be chosen, but if they refuse they are not compelled to marry. marriage means that they get away from the confinement of the workshops and gain a snug little home among the neighboring hills, with nothing to suggest penal conditions except an occasional inspection. if they consent to marry, they go immediately to the little cathedral and are married by the priest. a plot of land is allotted to the couple, to clear and cultivate. possibly a horse, a cow, and a few chickens are given them, as well as the inevitable samovar. our saying, "what is home without a mother?" might well be rendered in russian, "what is home without a samovar?" all the money that they can make by raising produce is their own, and will be turned over to them upon the expiration of their sentences. but most of the convicts on saghalien have sentences which terminate only at death. the women in the prisons are kept busy making clothes for such convicts as have not been let out on good behavior. the following day i was invited to attend, at the greek church, a service of thanksgiving for the escape of the passengers and crew of our wrecked steamer. the service proved a very impressive one. the singing, by a choir of convicts, was especially fine. in these russian churches seats are not provided, and the audience stands or kneels during the entire service. that afternoon i had the temerity to take my camera under my arm and stroll through the prison grounds. to my great surprise, i was permitted to take what photographs i pleased. even the guards lined up and were "snapped," much to their delight. i also secured a picture of a convict being knouted for some slight misdemeanor. this is very common, and is done by tying the offender to a bench, face down, and inflicting the necessary number of blows on his back. [illustration: russian murderers in angle of prison-house, korsakovsk. saghalien island.] as the light began to fail i remembered the magistrate's injunction about being indoors before dark, and so made my way home to dinner, during which i sat at the same table with the magistrate. he was a man of considerable ability, and made good use of the english language. during the meal he leaned over toward me and said, smiling: "i understand you have been taking some pictures." "yes," i answered penitently. "well, of course that is against the law, and i am afraid i shall have to ask you to turn those plates over to me." i expostulated mildly, but found that his mind was firmly made up on the matter. to tell the truth, my mind was also made up on the matter. "but," said i, "the plates are still in the camera, undeveloped." "oh, well, bring your camera along and i will develop them for you,"--this with a little smile of amusement. "shall i go now," said i, pushing my chair back from the table, although dinner was not half over. "don't think of it. to-morrow morning will do just as well." and to-morrow morning surely did, for that night the camera went to bed with me, and when the magistrate smilingly drew out the plates next morning and cracked them, one by one, on the corner of the table, he was not aware that he was spoiling fresh plates. i tried to look as sad as the occasion seemed to demand. i asked him if any of the convicts ever escaped from the island. he gave a short laugh and said: "some of them got away once. i will tell you about it. a japanese fishing-schooner put in here under stress of weather and anchored off the town. that night eight of the convicts swam off to her, murdered the crew, and sailed away without the slightest knowledge of navigation. after drifting about aimlessly for several days, they were picked up by an american whaler and carried to san francisco. as soon as the facts became known, the russian authorities demanded their extradition, but the american papers took the matter up and made a great outcry about sending back these innocent political convicts to the horrors of siberia, while the ladies of san francisco heaped confections and flowers upon them. the united states authorities declined to give them up, though it should have been well known that no political suspects are ever sent to saghalien, only tried and condemned criminals. but mark the sequel. within two years all but one of those eight men were hung for murder, and the remaining one was in prison for life. we appreciate the kindness of the united states in relieving us of the support of these criminals, and she can have all the russian convicts on the island of saghalien if she wants them, and welcome." saghalien is russia's gallows, and the incident given above shows how philanthropic zeal, if ill-informed and misdirected, may easily work harm. having occasion to interview the barber, i entered a neat shop in company with a russian official. it was not till the razor was playing about my chin that i learned that the barber was a common murderer. there was no backing out, for i knew not what savage instincts i might arouse in him by proposing to leave his place half shaved. i generally manage to get a nice little nap when under the soothing influence of the barber's hand, but this time i confess that i remained rather wider awake than usual. the gentle reader can, perhaps, imagine my feelings as the keen steel rasped across the vicinity of my jugular vein. strange to say, the only image that remains in my mind's eye is a staring advertisement which hung against the wall, and which expatiated with yankee modesty upon the merits of a certain american barber-supply house and the unique opportunity it offered of securing the best goods at the cheapest price. i was informed later that this barber combined with his tonsorial occupation that of procurer, which shows how wide a range of pursuits russia allows her convicts. a superficial examination of the various shops which lined the main street of the town showed that american canned goods, sheetings, prints, flour and other food-stuffs are most in demand. the hardware was mostly of cheap german manufacture. i saw no english goods displayed. chapter iii petropaulovsk and southern kamchatka volcanoes of kamchatka and the superstitious natives--the first prospecting trip--copper found, but no gold--mosquitos cause an evacuation of the land--the typical chinese peddler. upon our return to korsakovsk from the wreck, the governor-general had immediately telegraphed the news of the disaster to vladivostok, and had asked that a relief steamer be despatched at once. in six days we saw her smoke on the horizon, and soon the _swatow_, flying the german flag, cast anchor off the town. she was accompanied by a russian gunboat, which carried the governor-general and his suite back to vladivostok, as he had been recalled on urgent business. i found that the _swatow_ would not be able to go up into bering sea, but could only visit the trading stations on the okhotsk sea, at the head of which lies the important town of ghijiga. although my outfit had been so terribly depleted in the wreck, i was determined to push on and live on the country if necessary. the steamer had brought me a small supply of brick-tea, sugar, and hard bread. this slender store i supplemented as best i could from the shops in korsakovsk, and boarded the _swatow_ en route for the north. on leaving saghalien for the second time, we gave the southern point of the island a wide berth, and after ten days of uneventful steaming we sighted the shores of the peninsula of kamchatka, which showed a chain of lofty snow-covered mountains, now and again hidden by dense banks of fog. we entered the magnificent harbor of petropaulovsk by way of a narrow passage, and found ourselves in a landlocked bay, twenty-five miles long and ten miles wide. its shores were well wooded, and we could see several fine streams as they made their way swiftly down the mountainsides to the waters of the bay. at the northern extremity of the harbor rose the active volcano of avatcha, sixteen thousand feet high from the water's edge. about its summit lay heavy masses of snow, and above it hovered a thick blanket of smoke. kamchatka lies in the line of volcanic activity which stretches from tierra del fuego in south america northward through south and north america, the aleutian islands, kamchatka, the kurile islands, japan, and so southward; and, therefore, it is not surprising that there should be many semi-active volcanoes on the peninsula as well as many hot springs. the natives consider both of these the habitations of evil spirits, and will not go near them if it can be helped. once a party of russians forced the natives to show them the way to one of the hot springs, and when the superstitious people saw the foreigners looking over the edge of the spring, tasting of the water and cooking eggs in it, they were filled with wonder, and thought the russians had power over the demons. in port we found the british gunboat _archer_ and a small russian gunboat. [illustration: main street of petropaulovsk, kamchatka.] the town of petropaulovsk consists of about three hundred russians and half-caste kamchadales, presided over by a russian magistrate, assisted by a secretary, a physician, and twenty cossacks. with the exception of an imposing cathedral, the houses were all built of logs and one story in height, but they were neat and substantial, and were provided throughout with double windows, which are required by the severity of the winter. at that season of the year the country was covered with a luxurious growth of vegetation. of trees, so called, there are only the larch and birch, but the whole country is covered with a dense growth of underbrush, ten feet high, which it is impossible to penetrate. consequently, very little traveling is done in summer, except on the rivers in small boats. most of this undergrowth dies down at the approach of winter, and the snow which then covers everything makes traveling comparatively easy in any direction. as our steamer was to make a little side excursion of ten days to different trading ports in the vicinity and then return to petropaulovsk, i determined to remain behind and explore the region in search of copper deposits, which had been reported to exist in the vicinity. i secured a stanch little skiff built in san francisco, and after stowing away my tent in the bow i started out to prospect along the beach. for the most part, i walked while the koreans rowed the boat a little offshore, keeping always within hailing-distance. i carefully examined the mineral formations along the shore. about five miles from the town, i came across numerous pieces of copper "float" (detached fragments from the parent ledge). striking up the hill above the point where this "float" lay, i found the outcroppings of a thin seam of bornite, which is a valuable copper ore if found in quantities. but the thinness of the seam was not promising; so i simply set up a claim post, which would hold it for three years, with a view to further exploration. when night closed in, which in that northerly region in summer does not occur till nearly ten o'clock, we pitched our camp beside a brawling mountain stream, prepared our supper, and felt sure of passing a comfortable right. but within ten minutes we were undeceived. the mosquitos came down by the millions, and we surrendered at discretion, capitulated with the honors of war, went out with colors flying and side-arms on, so to speak, and spent the night in the boat, anchored some fifty yards from the shore. it is not necessary to follow the fortunes of this little side excursion, as it did not result in finding any evidences of valuable deposits of copper. so at the appointed time we found ourselves back at petropaulovsk, ready to resume our journey toward the north. we found the _swatow_ in port and scheduled to sail the next morning. the anchor came up at dawn, and before night we lay again at anchor at the mouth of the tigil river, on the western coast of the peninsula. we found most of the population of the little village of tigil awaiting our arrival. this village, composed of a mixed russian and half-caste population, lies about forty miles up the river; but the villagers had all come down to the coast to meet the steamer, to fish, and to get away from the mosquitos, which are far worse inland than on the coast. they were all living in little temporary summer huts. the first person i met as i stepped ashore addressed me in good western american. he was mr. fletcher, a russian subject, born in kamchatka of mixed american and russian parentage. he had been educated in san francisco. he invited me to his little cottage and set before me a tempting meal of fresh milk and blueberries, supplemented by raw, salted and smoked fish, vodka, and the contents of the steaming samovar. after doing honor to these good things, we strolled down to the beach to watch the chinese sailors from the steamer lay out the little stock of goods that they are allowed to bring with them to barter with the natives. the thrifty celestial spreads a piece of canvas on the ground, and on it arranges in the most tempting manner his stock of hand-mirrors, needles, buttons, soap tablets, perfumery, and other articles de luxe. a bevy of native girls crowd about him, giggling and chaffing, while men elbow their way in to buy presents for their sweethearts, paying for them in deerskins, fur gloves, and smoked deer tongue. meanwhile the steamer has been busily discharging the quota of flour, tea, vodka, and other things which are required by the officials and traders of the station, and in return loading the bales of skins and furs consigned to the russian chartered company. chapter iv salmon-fishing in the far north tide that rises twenty-five feet--wholesale suicide of salmon--fish-eyes as a delicacy for sea-gulls--how the natives store fish for the sledge-dogs--the three varieties of salmon--an arcadian land for the birds. leaving the mouth of the tigil river, we steamed northward into the upper arm of the okhotsk sea. the shore line showed rolling hill and mountain country without much timber. three days of steady steaming brought us to the extreme limits of the okhotsk sea, at the mouth of the ghijiga river. owing to the shallowness of the water, we were obliged to anchor eighteen miles off shore. we had on board a small steam-launch, for use in towing the lighters to the shore, each lighter carrying about twenty-five tons. the launch and lighters were soon put over the side and their cargoes loaded into them. at ten o'clock at night we set off toward the shore. it was necessary to start at that hour in order to get over the bar at flood-tide. we entered the mouth of the river at three in the morning. the sun was already up. the width of the estuary was considerable, but it was enormously increased by the tide, which rises twenty-five feet and floods the fields and plains on either side. the air was literally full of sea-gulls, flying very high. some of them were going inland, and some out to sea. the odor of decaying fish was almost overpowering, and was plainly perceptible five miles out. this was caused by the enormous number of dead salmon that lay on the bar, having been swept down the river. about the tenth of june the salmon come in from the sea and work their way up the river until the lack of water bars their further progress. salmon do not run up these rivers until they have attained their sixth year of growth. from the moment they enter the fresh water of the river, they get no food whatever. for this reason they must be caught near the river's mouth to be in good condition. the female, having gone far up the river, finds a suitable place, and deposits her eggs; after which the male fish hunts them out and fertilizes them. as soon as this has been accomplished there begins a mad rush for death. however many millions of salmon may run up the river, not one ever reaches the sea again alive. they race straight up the river, as if bent on finding its source. when the river narrows down to two hundred feet in width, and is about a foot deep, the fish are so crowded together that the water fairly boils with them. and still they struggle up and ever up. one can walk into the water and kill any number of them with a club. after the fish have gone up the river in this fashion for fifty or sixty miles, they are so poor that they are worthless as food, for they have been working all this time on an empty stomach. as they fight their way up, they seem to grow wilder and wilder. whole schools of them, each numbering anywhere from a hundred to a thousand, will make a mad rush for the shore and strand themselves. this is what the gulls have been waiting for. they swoop down in immense flocks and feast upon the eyes of the floundering fish. they will not deign to touch any other part. bears also come down the river bank and gorge themselves. i have seen as many as seven in a single day, huge black and brown fellows, feasting on the fish. they eat only certain parts of the head, and will not touch the body. they wade into the water and strike the fish with their paws and then draw them out upon the bank. wolves, foxes, and sledge-dogs also feast upon the fish, and for the only time during the year get all they want. [illustration: a river of dead salmon--august.] as the fish get further and further away from the sea, their flesh grows loose and flabby, the skin sometimes turning black and sometimes a bright red. they dash themselves against stones, and rub against the sharp rocks, seemingly with the desire to rub the flesh off their bones. the eggs of the salmon remain in the river during the winter, and it is not until the following spring that the young fish are swept down to the sea by the spring floods. along the banks of the river live the half-breed russians and the natives in their miserable shanties and skin huts. they fish with long nets made of american twine. fastening one end of the net to a stake on one side of the river, they carry the other end to the opposite side. in an hour or more, the farther end is brought back with a wide sweep down stream, which, of course, is the direction from which the fish are coming. the two ends are brought together, and a team of a dozen sledge-dogs hauls the net to the bank. the children kill the fish with clubs. then they are carried to the women, who squat upon the sand, and, with three deft sweeps of a sharp knife, disembowel them, and cut off the thick pieces of flesh on each side of the backbone. these pieces are dried in the sun and form the chief article of food among this people. it is called by them _yukulle_. the backbone, the head, and the tail, which remain after the meat is cut off, are then dried, and they form the staple food for the sledge-dogs. after they have cut up enough fish for one year's consumption, they make yet another large catch and throw the whole lot into a pit and cover them with earth. if there should be no run of fish the following year, these pits could be opened up and the contents fed to the dogs, thus saving their valuable lives. the natives, who live mainly on fish, will not cure more than enough for a single season's use. [illustration: a river of dead salmon--august.] they may lay up future store for their dogs, but not for their children. when an old fish-pit is opened up the stench is terrible, but this does not trouble the dogs, for they will eat anything into which they can bite. if the natives were willing to work fifteen days longer, they could easily lay up enough food to tide over any ordinary famine, but they will not do this unless forced to it. consequently, the russian government compels one or two from each family to work on certain government nets, every fish caught being put in the "fish-bank" and a record kept of the exact number due each individual who helps work the nets. during several successive good years, enough fish are laid up to supply the people at least in part during times of scarcity. if these should not suffice, the government would buy up reindeer from natives in the interior at fifty kopeks a head, and feed them to the destitute people. fifty kopeks make twenty-five cents in united states currency, which seems a small price to pay for a reindeer, but in the country of which we are writing that is a good average price. a failure of the fish crop occurs about once in seven years. for some reason not yet ascertained, the fish will entirely desert a river for a season. not infrequently it is found that of two rivers whose mouths are not more than a few miles apart, the salmon will frequent one and not the other. the russian government forbids the export of salmon caught in the rivers or within two miles of their mouths. while the people do not destroy a thousandth part of one per cent. of the fish that run up the river, we must bear in mind that not a single fish gets back to the sea after depositing its eggs. as the fish are killed as near as possible to the river's mouth, an enormous number of eggs are destroyed. there is, therefore, a possibility of seriously diminishing the supply if a wholesale slaughter takes place when the fish come in from the sea. if they were taken after the eggs are deposited it would be another matter; but this is never the case. these salmon are of three different varieties, called, respectively, the silver salmon, the "hump-backed" salmon, and the "garboosh." the weight of a full-grown salmon is from eighteen to twenty-five pounds. there is in the rivers another fish called the salmon-trout. it has a dark-green back, with vivid pink spots, and it is a most delicious article of food. the little lakes in the tundra also contain a fish somewhat resembling the pickerel, which the natives catch in traps. these are set in the little creeks leading from the tundra lakes. they are cylindrical baskets, five feet long and three feet wide, and are set in an opening in a dam built, for the purpose, of reeds and stakes. often as many as a dozen fish are taken from the traps at a single catch. at the time when the salmon are running, hundreds of sea-dogs (hair-seal) are attracted to the mouth of the river by the smell of dead fish. as we went in from our steamer, they kept lifting their heads from the water all about us, and afforded some good shooting. the natives take them in huge nets made of walrus thongs with a mesh of six inches or more. a good haul may net as many as thirty of these big fellows, which weigh up to four hundred pounds apiece. their fur is of a mottled or speckled color. they are in high repute among the natives, who use their hides for boots. the women are able to sew them so as to be perfectly water-tight. the blubber is a delicacy which is eaten cold. it is also made into oil, and in a shallow dish, with a piece of moss for a wick, it forms the ordinary lamp of the native. the sea-gulls, on their way north to breed, arrive in may, and the air is simply filled with them. they make their nests on rocky declivities or beside the rivers, or even on the open tundra. the nesting and hatching of their young comes at such a time that it just matches the running of the salmon, which is very convenient. the young mature very quickly. when newly hatched they are gray. when they come back the following season only their wings are gray, the body being white. the egg harvest is a very important one to the natives, who preserve the eggs by burying them in the ground on the north side of a hill where there is perpetual frost. besides the gulls, there are countless ducks, geese, and snipe. these last often fly in such dense flocks that the boys stand and throw clubs among them, and bring down half a dozen at a throw. these youngsters are also very skilful with the sling, and bag many ducks and geese with this primitive weapon. i have seen a boy bring down a single goose with one of these slings, though the general rule is to throw into a flock on the chance of hitting one. birds of all kinds here find the richest feeding-grounds in the world. the sea birds, in countless numbers, feed upon the salmon, while the insectivorous birds have only to open their mouths to have them filled. at this season the ground is quite covered with berries, which have been preserved all winter under the snow. among these are cranberries, blueberries, and huckleberries. when the birds arrive in the spring they are generally poor, but ten days suffice, on this rich fare, to make them fat. an hour's stroll is enough to use up all the gun-shells one can conveniently carry, and to bag more game than one can bring home. the hunter has only to sit down in a "goose lane" or behind a blind of some sort, and shoot birds right and left. the few merchants who reside in these trading posts kill large quantities of birds in the season, and keep them in cold storage, which can be found almost anywhere a few feet below the surface of the ground. the natives, as a rule, are too poor to own shot-guns, and so do not profit largely by this generous supply of feathered game. chapter v the town of ghijiga the sacred icon and the sewing-machine both in evidence--the native "process of getting married"--mrs. braggin's piano--american pack-saddles and russian obstinacy--theodosia chrisoffsky and his sixty descendants. when we reached the shore, or as near the shore as the shallowness of the water would permit, a crowd of natives and half-castes waded out and offered their backs to convey us to dry ground. there we found two russian officers in uniform and twelve cossacks, besides a hundred or more of the villagers. the magistrate and his assistant, with the aid of twenty cossacks, govern a section of territory as large as texas and new mexico combined. the magistrate led us to his house, a log structure, one story high, with five large rooms. no carpets adorned the floor, which was spotlessly clean. on the wall hung the pictures of the czar and czarina, while in the corner, of course, hung the sacred icon. one noticeable feature was a singer sewing-machine. the magistrate's wife lives here with him and looks after their modest family of thirteen children. [illustration: ghijiga.] it was now four o'clock in the morning, but the family were astir. the samovar was brought in, and over hot tea and buns we speedily became acquainted. the magistrate is an important man in ghijiga, and i found him to be a highly educated gentleman, speaking french and german fluently, but not english. he examined my papers, and, with the aid of the supercargo, who interpreted for me, i told him the purpose of my visit. he made me entirely welcome, and told me that he had received orders from the governor-general in vladivostok to aid me in every way possible. and he assured me he would gladly do so. my first object was to reach the town of ghijiga, which lay twenty-five miles up the river. here i intended to make my headquarters while i explored the country inland and about the head of the okhotsk sea. the magistrate immediately gave orders that a boat be gotten ready to take me up the river, and five cossacks were detailed to haul at the tow-line. after a hearty breakfast of salmon, reindeer meat, and other good things, we embarked and started up-stream. the boat was probably the worst-shaped craft ever constructed. it was made by hollowing out an eighteen-foot log, after which side boards were attached. as it drew fully twelve inches of water and was very cranky, one could scarcely recommend it for river travel. i afterward built three boats which would carry double the weight of cargo, and which drew only four inches. we rowed up-stream a few miles in a northwesterly direction until we reached the limit of tide-water, and the stream suddenly grew shallow. the banks were covered with a dense growth of bushes, which at some places attained a height of twenty feet, but there was no large timber near at hand. with my field-glasses i saw some fairly heavy timber on the mountainsides inland. the general aspect of the country was exceedingly rough. the banks of the river showed outcroppings of slate, striking east and west, with a pitch to the south of forty-five degrees. to the southwest, about ten miles away, i saw a long, low range of hills, perhaps a thousand feet high. the highest point in this range is called babuska, which is the russian for "grandmother." as we approached the shallows the water became so swift that we could no longer row, whereupon four of the cossacks jumped out of the boat into the icy water. putting over their shoulders a kind of harness made of walrus hide, to which was attached a rope of the same material one hundred feet long, they began towing. the fifth cossack held the steering-oar. the shore was too heavily wooded to admit of using it as a tow-path, and so the poor fellows had to wade in the water. frequently, the boat would ground on the shallows, and then they would patiently come back and haul us over the obstruction. at noon we landed, built a roaring fire, and imbibed unknown quantities of tea along with our lunch. taking to the water again, we kept steadily, if slowly, on until seven o'clock, when, suddenly turning a sharp bend, we saw on the hillside, on the left bank, the green spires of a russian church around which were grouped about fifty houses. i noticed that not a single house had a window on the north side. the severe winds from the north drive all the snow away from that side of the houses and pile it up against the windows on the south side, so that they are often buried twelve or fifteen feet deep. some of the people are too lazy to dig this away and so have to remain in comparative darkness; but as the days are only a couple of hours long in mid-winter, it does not make so much difference. as we neared the landing all the village, except such portion as had met the steamer at the mouth of the river, came down _en masse_ to greet us--dogs, children, and all. they gave us a hearty _drosty_, or "how do you do?" and treated us most hospitably. we pitched our tent on a grassy slope near the water and made preparations for supper. as i was bending over, busy with my work, i was startled by a hearty slap on the shoulder and the true yankee intonation, "well, friend, what are you doing in this neck of the woods?" i turned quickly and saw before me a stout, good-natured, smiling american. i learned that he was a mr. powers, manager of the russian trading company, which had a station at this point. he had arrived a few days before in the company's steamer, the _kotic_, and had brought with him a russian-american as clerk. the latter was in process of being married to the daughter of a mrs. braggin, the capable agent of the russian fur company at that point. i say he was in process of being married; for, although the ceremony had begun the day before, it would be several days yet before it would be completed. they literally dragged me up to the house, although i pointed in dismay at my disreputable suit of khaki. i was too late for the church service, but was just in time for the more substantial part of the festivities. after the service in the church the villagers gather at the bride's house and spend the balance of the day in feasting, amid the most uproarious mirth. the second day finishes this act of the play, but on the third and fourth days the bride and groom make the round of the village, feasting everywhere. it was on the second day that we arrived, and before the day was over the groom had gorged himself about to the limit; and before the next two days had gone he confided to me the fact that if he had known how much he would be forced to eat, he would have hesitated before crossing the threshold of matrimony. [illustration: russian church, ghijiga.] mrs. braggin's drawing-room boasted an antiquated upright piano, that had long passed its prime, but was in fairly good tune for such a corner of the world. in the course of the evening, as the fun was growing fast and furious, and there seemed to be no one to play the instrument, i sat down and struck up the "washington post" march; but before i had played many bars, i was dismayed to find that the merriment had suddenly ceased and the whole company were standing in perfect silence, as if rooted to the spot. when i finished nothing would suffice but that i should exhaust my slender repertory, and then repeat it all again and again. evidently, many of those rough but kindly people had never heard anything like it in their lives, and, as the russian is musical to his heart's core, i felt pleased to have added my mite to the evening's entertainment. after the four days of feasting, we descended to the plane of the ordinary. by the aid of mr. powers i secured a vacant log hut, where i bestowed my various goods and appointed old andrew as steward, making arrangements for him to board at mrs. braggin's. some of the native women were easily induced to fit me out with a suit of buckskin which i should require in traveling about the country. in this whole district there were but twelve horses. they were irkutsk ponies, shaggy fellows, about fourteen hands high. they were very hardy animals, and could shift for themselves both summer and winter. in the winter they paw down through the snow until they reach the dead grass. after nearly exhausting my powers of persuasion, and paying a round sum, i secured six of these horses. i hired a competent russian guide and prepared to take my first trip across the tundra, to examine a locality where the russians had reported that gold had been discovered a few years before. with my horses came little russian pack-saddles or rather combinations of pack- and riding-saddles. they have the faculty of turning with their loads about once an hour all day long. this i had discovered at petropaulovsk, but when i expressed my determination to use my american pack-saddles, i found myself confronted by the opposition of russians and natives alike. they viewed my saddles with amusement and contempt. the double cinches and the breast and back cinches puzzled them completely, and they refused to have anything to do with them. as fast as my koreans would get the packs on, the russians would take them off when our backs were turned. i soon discovered that the russians were determined to use their own saddles, and no argument would move them. i unbuckled a russian saddle and threw it to the ground, substituting one of my own for it. i turned to a second horse to do likewise, when, looking over my shoulder, i saw a russian quietly unfastening the first. stepping up to him, i gave him a slap with the open hand on the jaw. instantly, the whole matter assumed a new aspect. i was not to be trifled with. they saw it. their objections were at once withdrawn, and never after that did i have occasion to strike a man. [illustration: house in ghijiga occupied by mr. vanderlip and his party.] my guide was an old man of sixty-five, but a noted sledge-driver and hunter. his name was theodosia chrisoffsky, a half-caste. he was a dried-up and wizened old man, but i found him as active as a youth of twenty. he was always the first up in the morning, and the last to bed at night. he owned the best dogs in northeastern siberia, and could get more work out of a dog-team than any other man. his reputation reached from the okhotsk sea to the arctic ocean, and he was considered among the dog-men to be about the wealthiest of his class. he owned a hundred dogs, valued at from three to one hundred roubles each. perhaps ten of them were worth the maximum price, and the rest averaged about ten roubles apiece. he also owned five horses. not the least part of his wealth were twelve strapping sons and daughters, all of whom, with their wives and husbands, lived under the paternal roof--or, rather, under a clump of paternal roofs. there were some sixty souls in all, and they formed a little village by themselves about twenty miles up the river from ghijiga. i had to load the horses very light on account of the marshy condition of the tundra. each pack was a hundred pounds only. on this trip i took only one of my koreans. chapter vi off for the tundra--a native family hard traveling--the native women--a mongrel race--chrisoffsky's home and family and their ideas of domestic economy--boiled fish-eyes a native delicacy--prospecting along the ghijiga. we set out at nine o'clock on the sixth of september. fortunately for us, the sharp frosts had already killed off all the mosquitos. the path through the tundra was very difficult. we stepped from tuft to tuft of moss, between which were deep mud and slush. when we could keep in the river-bed, where it was dry, we had tolerably good going; so we kept as near the river as possible. often i would have to mount the back of my faithful kim to cross some tributary of the main stream. we were continually wet to the knee or higher, and were tired, muddy, and bedraggled beyond belief. toward night, we saw the welcome smoke from the village of the chrisoffskys. a crowd of small urchins came running out to greet their grandfather, and soon we were in the midst of the village. the old gentleman, my guide, took my hand and led me into his house, where, after i had kissed every one (drawing the line at the men), one of the daughters sat down on the floor, unlaced my boots, took off my wet socks, and replaced them by soft, fur-lined deerskin boots. she then looked my boots over very carefully, and finding a little seam ripped, she got out a deer-sinew and sewed it up. all my men were similarly attended to. the boots were then hung up to dry. in the morning, they would have to be oiled. this attention to the foot-gear is an essential part of the etiquette of this people. any stitch that is to be taken must be attended to before the boot is dry and stiff. even here the samovar reigned supreme. the women were strong, buxom creatures, and they wore loose calico gowns of gaudy colors. the hair, which is never luxuriant in the women of the north, was put up in two slender braids crossed at the back and brought around to the front of the head and tied up. their complexions were very dark, almost like that of a north american indian. most of them had very fine teeth. these people are of a mongrel race, having a mixture of korak, tunguse, and russian blood. chrisoffsky himself was one fourth russian. they speak a dialect that is as mixed as their blood; for it is a conglomerate of korak, tunguse and russian. they are very prolific, six and eight children being considered a small family. the death-rate among them is very high, and, as might be expected, pulmonary diseases are responsible for a very large proportion of the deaths. [illustration: house of theodosia chrisoffsky, christowic.] this house into which i had come as guest consisted of a kitchen, a small living-room, and a tiny bedroom. the old gentleman's wife was fifty-five years old, and was still nursing her fifteenth child, which, at night, was swung from the ceiling, while the father and mother occupied a narrow bed. three of the smaller children slept on the floor beneath the bed. the room was eight feet long and six feet wide. the fireplace in the living-room was a huge stone oven, which projected through the partition into the bedroom. every evening its capacious maw was filled with logs, and this insured heat in the heavy stone body of the stove for at least twenty-four hours. in the mouth of this oven the kettles were hung. this house was far above the average; for, in truth, there were only twelve others as good in the whole immense district. for dinner, the first course was a startling one. it consisted of a huge bowl of boiled fish-eyes. this is considered a great delicacy by the natives of the far north. when the dish was set before me, and i saw a hundred eyes glaring at me from all directions and at all angles, cross, squint, and wall, it simply took my appetite away. i had to turn them down, so that the pupil was not visible, before i could attack them. the old gentleman and i ate alone, the rest of the family not being allowed to sit down with us. this was eminently satisfactory to me, as we ate from the same dish; in fact, i could have dispensed with my host too. the second dish consisted of fish-heads. i found on these a sort of gelatin or cartilage that was very good eating. then came a kind of cake, fried in seal-oil, of which the less said the better. for dessert, we had a dish of yagada, which is much like our raspberry, except that it is yellow and rather acid. the rest of the family, together with my men, squatted on the floor of the kitchen, and ate from tables a foot high by three feet square. in the center of each table was set a large bowl of a kind of fish-chowder. each person wielded a spoon made from the horn of the mountain sheep, and held in the left hand a piece of black bread. after dinner they all had tea. no sugar is put in the tea, but a small lump is given to each person, and he nibbles it as he sips his tea. it is the height of impoliteness to ask for a second piece of sugar. many of these people drink as many as sixty cups of tea in a single day. they seldom, if ever, drink water. we sat and talked a couple of hours over the samovar, and then the blankets were spread for the night. the large room was reserved for me. three huge bearskins were first placed on the floor, and then my blankets were spread over them. it made a luxurious bed, and quite free from vermin; for a bedbug will never approach a bearskin. in the kitchen, i fear, they were packed like sardines. they slept on deerskins or bearskins, anything that came handy being used for a covering. curiously enough, these people all prefer to sleep on a steep incline, and to secure this position they use heavy pillows or bolsters. before retiring, each person came into my room and bowed and crossed himself before the icon in the corner. i had to shake hands with them all, and kiss the children, which operation i generally performed on the forehead, as handkerchiefs are unknown luxuries in that country. the next morning, while partaking of a sort of french breakfast of bread, tea, and sugar, i noticed that my party were the only ones that made use of a comb and brush. when i stepped outside the door to clean my teeth, i was surrounded by twenty or more, who had come to witness this strange operation. they were brimming over with laughter. the tooth-brush was passed around from hand to hand, and i had to keep a sharp lookout, lest some of them tried it themselves. finally, i lined them all up to take their photograph. i placed my camera on the ground, and turned to direct them how to stand. i had no need to ask them to look pleasant, for they were all on a broad grin. i was at a loss to account for their mirth till i turned and saw that the village dogs were treating my camera in a characteristically canine fashion. then it was i who needed to be told to look pleasant. at last we were on the road again. for the first five miles our way led up the bed of the river, sometimes in the water, and sometimes on the bank in grass as high as the horses' shoulders. when, at last, we came out on to the tundra, to the north, a hundred and fifty miles away, i could see the tops of the mountains among which the ghijiga river has its source. they are about ten thousand feet high. to the northeast, about sixty miles away, i could see the foothills of a range of mountains in which rises the avecko river, which enters the okhotsk sea within a mile of the mouth of the ghijiga. reaching the summit of the water-shed between the two rivers, i discovered that between me and these foothills the land was low and abounded in tundra lakes. to avoid these, i bore to the left and kept on the summit of the water-shed. by noon we had covered only eight miles. we halted for dinner, unpacked the horses, and turned them out to feed upon the rich grass while we made our dinner of fish, bread, and other viands which we had brought ready prepared from the house. at eight that night we camped on a "tundra island," a slight rise in the general flatness on which grew a few tamarack trees. as the nights were now very cold, we built a roaring fire. my koklanka, or great fur coat, with its hood, now proved its utility. after supper, which consisted of several brace of fat ptarmigan, brought down that afternoon with my shotgun, each man took his deerskin and spread it on a pile of elastic tamarack boughs. with our feet shod in dry fur boots, with our koklankas about us and great pillows under our heads, we slept as soundly and as comfortably as one could desire. [illustration: start from ghijiga, summer-time. theodosia chrisoffsky and family--fourteen children.] in the morning we found ourselves covered with white frost. the start was very difficult, for an all-day tramp in the bog the day before had made our joints stiff. for the first half hour, walking was so painful that i found myself frequently counting the steps between objects along the way. but after a time the stiffness wore off, and i began to find the pace of the horses too slow. when at last we came to higher ground and better going, i examined the streams for gold. the pan showed several "small colors," for we were in a granite country, but as yet there were no signs of any gold-bearing float rock. on the thirteenth day we arrived at our destination which was a certain creek indicated by a russian engineer named bugdanovitch. i liked the looks of the country very much. the creeks were filled with quartz float. so i determined to stop here two or three weeks and explore the adjacent hills and creeks for gold. at this point my guide's contract expired and i reluctantly let him go, as well as five of the six horses. i was thus left in the wilderness with kim and alek. i pitched camp in a favorable place and went to work in good spirits. i thoroughly prospected the hills and ravines and made repeated trials of the creek beds, but though i found more or less show of gold, i was at last obliged to confess that there was nothing worth working. this being the case, it behooved me to be on my way back to headquarters at ghijiga. i thought there could be no difficulty about it, as the water all flowed in one direction. i did not want to go back by the way we had come. i suspected that there was a shorter way, and that the guide had purposely brought me a longer distance in order to secure more pay. so i decided to make a "bee line" for ghijiga. already we had had a slight flurry of snow, which had made me a trifle uneasy. we had only thirty days' provisions with us, and it would not do to be snowed in. as we had only one horse, we could not, of course, take back with us all our camp equipage, so i left alek at the camp and started out for ghijiga with kim and our one horse, intending to send back dog-sledges for the things. a more timid man than alek would have hesitated before consenting to be left behind in this fashion, but he bore up bravely and in good cheer sent us off. chapter vii tunguse and korak hospitality. my korak host--"bear!"--i shoot my first arctic fox--my tunguse guide--twenty-two persons sleep in a twelve-foot tent--tunguse family prayers--the advent of howka--chrisoffsky once more. i struck what i thought to be a straight course toward our destination. the going was much better than it had been a few weeks before, because of the hard frost which held everything solid till ten o'clock in the morning. then the sun would melt the ice and make it very hard to travel; for the broken ice would cut our boots, which meant wet feet for the rest of the day. on the second day we struck a small water-course and saw many signs of reindeer. soon we found a tiny trail, and, following it down the valley, i turned around a bend in the creek, and saw before me six large deerskin tents, while on the surrounding hillsides were hundreds of reindeer. as we neared the village a dozen curs came rushing out; some of them were hobbled so as to prevent their chasing the deer. they attacked us savagely, as is the custom of these ugly little mongrels. we had to make a counter attack with stones to keep them off. the noise aroused the natives, who hurried out and received us with the hospitable "drosty." [illustration: village of christowic, okhotsk sea.] these people were pure koraks,[ ] a little under the medium size, in which they resemble the japanese. i was led into the largest of the tents, and a wooden bowl containing boiled reindeer meat was placed before me. to the delight of my host, i went to my pack and produced some tea. i also displayed some sugar and black bread, which firmly established me in their good graces. i was greatly surprised to see my host bring out a box, from which he produced half a dozen china cups, heavily ornamented with gilt, and bearing such legends as "god bless our home," "to father," and "merry christmas." he must have secured them from an american whaling vessel on one of his annual trips to the coast. so, in the midst of this wilderness, i drank my tea from a fine mustache cup, originally designed to make the recipient "remember me." these cups were the heirloom of the family, and were brought out only on state occasions. [ ] sometimes spelled koriaks or koryakes. korak is given the preference as being more accurately the phonetic spelling. when tea was finished i produced some tobacco and filled my pipe and that of my host, much to his gratification. the sequel was embarrassing; for when our pipes were smoked out he insisted on filling them again with his own tobacco. this was rough on me, but i set my teeth on the pipe-stem and bravely went through with it to the end. i can say nothing worse of it than that it was as bad as a cheap american cigarette. my host was a genial old fellow, and later on he became my bosom friend. he was the wealthiest man in his district, and owned upward of ten thousand reindeer. of course i had great difficulty in talking to him, but by a liberal use of signs, i made him understand where i had come from, and that i would like to have him kill some reindeer and carry them back to the camp where i had left alek, and, if possible, bring him to this village. i made a rough sketch of the position of the camp, and he understood perfectly, as shown by the fact that he carried out my instructions to the letter on the next day. i asked him the way to ghijiga and pointed in the direction that i had supposed it lay. this was approximately correct, but he promised to give me a guide to take me to town. that evening there was another surprise in store for me. they served for supper the boiled flesh of unborn reindeer. it is accounted a specially choice viand among the koraks. this seemed worse than smoking the old man's tobacco, but i laid aside all squeamishness and found that, after all, it was a palatable dish. my bed that night was a pile of skins, a foot deep, in a corner of the tent. the next morning we set out with our guide, a mere boy dressed in a close-fitting suit of brown buckskin. he carried in his hand an ugly looking bear spear with a blade a foot long and sharpened on both edges. it was artistically inlaid with copper scroll-work and was a fine example of genuine korak art. the shaft was a good eight feet long. all day we pushed ahead without adventure or misadventure until about seven o'clock in the evening, when, as we were passing down a gentle incline through thick bushes, with the korak guide in the lead and i behind, my notice was attracted by a mound of fresh earth a few steps from the path. i went to investigate, and was greeted by a terrific roar. i brought my gun to position and cocked both barrels, but could see nothing beyond a tremendous shaking of the bushes. looking around, i saw the little guide with his eyes blazing and his spear in readiness for an attack. he exclaimed "medvait!" which in russian means "bear." as my gun was loaded only with bird shot, i decided that discretion was the better part of valor, and slowly backed out of the dense undergrowth. when i reached the open, whatever remnant of hunting instinct a hard day's tramp had left in me asserted itself. hastily reloading my gun with shells loaded with buckshot, i circled around the bushes to get a shot at the fellow. i saw where the bushes were being beaten down by his hasty retreat, but could not catch sight of the brute. i sent a charge of buckshot after him as an inducement to come out and show himself, but the argument worked just the other way, and he made off at his best speed. the strangest thing about the whole affair was that we had passed within ten feet of the animal without the horse showing any signs of uneasiness. nothing will so frighten a horse as the smell of a bear. but i learned afterward that this particular horse was afraid of nothing. i had named him "bill," and we had many a hard day together. night was now upon us, and so we made our camp in some dry grass beside a brook. the guide slept on a single deerskin, with no covering but the clothes he wore. in the morning i ascended a little knoll, and with my glasses could see a mountain near the town of ghijiga, so the guide left me, and went back. that afternoon i killed my first arctic fox. the little fellow, about as large as a coyote, came running toward us. we stopped short, and the inquisitive animal approached to within a hundred feet and paused to inspect us. i killed him with a ball through the chest. [illustration: mr. vanderlip on "bill."] that night as kim and i sat beside a roaring fire of birch logs a little animal leaped suddenly into the firelight opposite. it was a young arctic fox, the prettiest sight i have ever seen. he would jump to one side and then the other, and crouch, and strike attitudes like a kitten at play. then he would lift his nose in the air and sniff this way and that, raising one of his paws meanwhile. the thought of killing the little thing would never have entered my head if kim, the matter-of-fact, had not whispered, "strelite," which means "shoot." instinctively my hand crept toward my gun, but the little fox saw the movement and was gone like a flash. i was heartily glad of it, too. in this district are to be found almost all the different varieties of foxes--the red, fiery, blue, chestnut, black, and white. but it should be remembered that, with the exception of the white and red, these are not exactly different species. for instance, a black fox may be found in a litter of the common red fox in any country. he is simply a freak of nature, just as one might find a black kitten among a litter of gray ones. the foxes are caught by poison or traps. there are two kinds of traps, one of which seizes the animal by a leg or around the neck, and the other is made with a bow and arrow so set that as the fox goes along the path the slightest touch of the foot will discharge the arrow. formerly these animals were so common that when the dogs were fed the foxes would come and try to steal part of the food, and had to be driven away with clubs. at that time the natives valued their pelts hardly more than dogskins, but as the foreign demand increased the foxes became worth catching. we had four days of hard work traveling across the tundra, which was frozen hard in the morning, but was soft in the afternoon. many times a day we were up to the waist in the mud and water, working to get bill out of the mire. on the fourth day, just as night fell, we struck the trail between ghijiga and old chrisoffsky's little hamlet. i did not know just how far we were from the village, and as we were tired out we camped for the night. in the morning, what was our chagrin to find that we were within a quarter of a mile of ghijiga. bill doubtless knew, and if he could have talked he would have saved us one night in the open. the days now grew rapidly colder, with flurries of snow that heralded the coming of winter. as it was now possible to use dog-sleds, i engaged some of the natives to go to the korak village and bring down my camping outfit, which i thought must long since have arrived at that place. at this season the dogs could travel only at night, when the ground was hard, but even so they covered between thirty and forty miles a day without difficulty. meanwhile i loaded up bill with all he could carry, and, in company with kim, started out to find the head waters of the turumcha river, where gold was reported to have been discovered. this trail led west from ghijiga, but it was first necessary to go up the valley of the ghijiga a short distance before crossing over into the other valley. i had, therefore, to pass chrisoffsky's place again. we arrived there the first evening and received a hearty welcome. i tried to get the old gentleman to go with me and to furnish horses and dogs, but he could do neither. his dogs were engaged by the trading company on the coast, and his horses were in too poor a condition to undertake the journey which i contemplated. so i was reduced to the melancholy necessity of walking, bill carrying our camp outfit. as i was about to start, a native tunguse arrived at chrisoffsky's. he was the first of that tribe that i had seen. chrisoffsky told me that this young man was going the same road as i, and that his yourta, or hut, was near the stream along which i intended to prospect. he willingly agreed to act as my guide at a wage of one brick of tea a day. he answered to the euphonious name of fronyo. he was five feet high and weighed only one hundred and ten pounds, but was prodigiously strong and wiry. he was dressed in old tanned buckskin, with a gaudy apron trimmed with beads in geometric patterns and with a fringe. according to the custom of his tribe, he wore a long, ugly knife strapped to his thigh, the point reaching to the knee, while the handle lay at the hip. these knives are fashioned by the koraks, who sell them to the tunguses. on his feet were moccasins with seal-hide soles. i found that he could speak a little broken russian, and as i had acquired a few russian expressions we got along famously. so we set out, fronyo leading off with his long bear spear but no fire-arms. it was a straight three days' trip across the tundra, and without special incident. at night we arrived in good season at a skin yourta on the banks of a tributary of the ghijiga. on our approach a dozen dogs rushed out with the full intention of tearing us to pieces, but changed their minds when they found that we were equally determined to defend ourselves. the dogs were followed by the denizens of the place, ten or twelve in number, including fronyo's father, mother, brothers, and sisters. their greeting consisted in grasping right hands, throwing out the lips as far as possible and touching the two cheeks and lips of the friend. i pretended ignorance of the ceremony. in truth, they were so unconscionably dirty that it was impossible to tell the color of their skin, and besides, i could not distinguish the men from the women. but i learned later that the dress of the two sexes does differ slightly, for the women have a little fringe about the bottom of the skirt, which is split up the back precisely like our frock-coats. [illustration: the pride of the family.] the flap of the tent was drawn aside and we crept in, only to find ourselves buried in a dense cloud of smoke, which came from an open fire burning in the middle of the tent, and which escaped through a hole at the top, as in the wigwam of the north american indian. on sitting down, i discovered that near the ground the air was comparatively clear. because of this smoke, the natives suffer severely from sore eyes. among the tunguses the guest is always supposed to provide the tea, so i had kim bring out a brick, and it was brewed and served with bread and sugar. for supper i had a splendid salmon-trout spitted before the fire, and it seemed the most delicious morsel i had ever tasted. then we lighted our pipes and took our ease. i noticed that the women carried pipes. the little brass pipe-bowls are bought from the russian traders and are fitted with reed stems about eight inches long. some of the pipe-stems were made of two pieces of wood grooved down the center and then bound together with deer thong. they mix manchu tobacco with the dried inner bark of the fir tree. when it came time to retire, several logs were added to the fire in the center of the tent, the deerskins were spread, and each lay down in the clothes he or she had worn all day. the tent was twelve feet in diameter, and in that space twenty-two persons slept; three of them were infants who were swung from the top and just below the smoke fine. indeed we lay like matches in a box, and certain grave misgivings i had relative to living mementoes of the occasion were later verified. but before retiring i witnessed a scene that would have put to shame not a few of the homes in america. these tunguses are, many of them, adherents of the greek church. there was an icon in the tent, and before and after eating they crossed themselves before it. now as we were about to retire the family shook hands and kissed one another. they came and shook my hand and said, "pleasant sleep." then the old man turned his face upward, closed his eyes and said, "o god, do not forget our home to-night." considering the surroundings, it was the most impressive thing i had ever witnessed. on our departure the next day we made the old people happy with the gift of several bricks of tea. snow had fallen during the night to the depth of six inches. winter was on us in full force. as we left we were followed from the yourta by a beautiful black dog the size of a fox. i was to become well acquainted with him later. we camped that night on the banks of the turumcha where i was to commence my work. the stream was only sixty feet wide, but it was swift and turgid and filled with floating ice. the next morning we were obliged to ford it; so, tying a lariat about bill's neck and leaving the end of it in kim's hands, i mounted and forced the horse into the water. at the deepest point it came well up to his shoulders and he found it hard to keep his feet, but we got safely over. kim pulled the horse back by the lariat and the guide came across. that long-suffering brute had to make four round trips before we and our effects were all across the river. when kim started across, the dog began to howl piteously, but finally sprang into the water after us. when in mid-stream he encountered a floating cake of ice. he climbed upon it and was whirled down-stream and out of sight. he got across, however, and caught up with us two hours later. we followed up the bed of the stream, stopping often to examine it for signs of gold. we sunk shafts here and there and panned the gravel in the icy water of the stream, always getting a few "colors" but nothing of particular interest. each night we camped in some sheltered nook, often in heavy timber, and our first move always was to change our wet boots. one night i spread out my deerskin bed, put on my heavy fur coat and cap, lay down as usual with the canvas tarpaulin over all, and was soon asleep. about four o'clock in the morning i felt something warm moving at my side. i put out my hand and found that it was the black dog which had followed us. we called him howka. when i stirred he offered to leave, but i patted him and coaxed him to remain, which he was quite willing to do. afterward i bought him, and for a year he was my constant companion. once, during a long period of semi-starvation, he saved my life by hunting sea-gulls' nests, from which i took the eggs. after working my way up to the headwaters of the stream without finding gold in paying quantities, i determined to cross over the divide into another section, but my guide, fronyo, begged me to go one day's trip farther up the little brook to a place which he described as "white walls with little sparkling points like the stars." i said to myself, "probably quartz with sulphurets" (bisulphide of iron). so on we went and came at last to the shiny wall. it proved to be a large vein of low grade gold ore crossing the brook at right angles. panning below i found nothing of particular value; so breaking off fragments of the rocks we piled them up beside the stream, making a little monument to mark the spot, should i wish to revisit it. i appeared to be now in a mineral country. we went on up the brook, panning continually, but nowhere on the bed-rock found gold in paying quantities. [illustration: mr. vanderlip crossing turumcha river.] we had now reached the top of the divide, and so crossed over into a district called toloffka, with a stream of the same name, where we spent several days. the cold was intense. the thermometer registered ten degrees below zero. the streams were all ice-bound, except where they were very swift. the snow was about a foot deep, and bill was faring badly. his only food was the tops of the grass that stuck up through the snow or that could be found on wind-swept places. he was so weak that he could only pack sixty pounds, and that with difficulty. all our food was gone except rice and tea. our tobacco had long ago given out, and, as a substitute, we used brick tea mixed with pine bark. it made a smoke--and that was all. the rough work had destroyed my boots. i had used one pair to mend the soles of the other. my guide made a needle of a fish bone, and with thread from the fiber of a vine sewed the soles on for me. it was evidently time for us to be turning our faces homeward. we went straight for the yourta where fronyo's family lived, and of course made it in far less time than it had taken us to come. i found that the whole trip had covered just one month. bill came very near giving out on the home trip, but by a heroic effort pulled through and was rewarded at the journey's end by getting all the provender he could stow away. as bill had to carry the pack and as my feet were not in the best condition, fronyo proposed that i ride to ghijiga on a reindeer. a fine big bull of about five hundred pounds was brought out and i looked him over. i had some misgivings, but at last decided to accept the offer. the saddle was made with reindeer bones for a foundation. these were securely bound together, padded with moss, and covered with rawhide. the antlers of the deer had a spread of five feet, and there were so many prongs that i never tried to count them. much to my surprise, i found that the motion of my steed was a smooth and gliding one, even more comfortable than the gait of a single-footer. it had taken us three days to walk up from chrisoffsky's to the yourta. it took just eight hours to make the same trip in the other direction. chrisoffsky's house was on the left bank of the stream, while we were on the right. it would have been death to the deer to have taken him within scent of the dogs. so i dismounted two miles from the house, tethered the deer, and made my way in on foot. the stream was not solidly frozen, so i fired off my gun and brought out the whole settlement. a boat was found, and presently i was seated again at old chrisoffsky's fireside. chapter viii dog-sledging and the fur trade description of the sledge and its seven pairs of dogs--the harness--the useful _polka_--the start-off a gymnastic performance for the driver--methods of steering and avoiding obstructions while going at full speed--dog-trading _en route_--dog-fights are plentiful--prices of sable and other skins in the native market--the four grades of sables--how they live and what they live on--a russian writer on sable hunting--days when a native would barter eighteen sable skins for an ax. i could not delay here. the sledge-road to ghijiga was in fine condition, and, hiring a team of dogs, i started out the next morning on my first sledge-ride. our team consisted of fourteen big, wolflike sledge-dogs with shaggy coats and erect pointed ears. some were white, some black, some gray, some red, and some a bluish color. the two leaders were a magnificent pair--one red, the other blue. they were all fierce-looking fellows, but i had no difficulty in stroking them, as they like to be petted. the harness consisted of a breast collar and a belly-band. leading back from the collar, and held in place on the sides by the belly-band, are two thongs, which are attached to a ring directly behind the dog. from this ring a single thong, three feet in length, attaches the dog to the central tug which draws the sledge. each thong is fastened to a ring on the tug by means of a wooden pin three inches long. the dogs are always fastened to the tug in pairs. the central tug leads forward from the sledge to a point between the leading pair of dogs. between the several pairs is a clear space of about eighteen inches. the sledge itself, which is called a _narta_, is a remarkable vehicle. it is made of light basswood without nails or screws. the parts are bound together with walrus thongs. it is admirably adapted to survive the hard knocks which it is sure to receive. it has just the necessary amount of "give" without losing anything in strength. the runners are from ten to fourteen feet long and two feet apart. they are from three to four inches wide and unshod. the bed of the sledge is raised ten inches above the runners by means of posts at frequent intervals. on each side is a railing six inches high, with a thong mesh to prevent the load from falling off. at about one third the distance from the front to the back of the sledge is placed a perpendicular bow of stout wood, which rises some four feet and a half from the ground. the driver sits behind this, and whenever an obstruction is met with, he steps off quickly at the side and pulls the sledge one way or the other by means of this bow, which he grasps in the right hand. the driver holds a stout steel-shod stick five feet in length with a cord attached to the end. he can use this _polka_ as a brake by putting it between the runners and digging it into the ground, or he can anchor the sledge with it by driving it perpendicularly into the snow immediately in front of the sledge and then tying the cord to the bow which has been described. when this is done the sledge cannot possibly move forward. several bearskins were laid in the bed of the sledge for me, and a back-rest was made by lashing together three cross-pieces. i was told to keep as far down as possible, as it would lessen the probability of capsizing. before starting, one more important piece of work had to be performed. chrisoffsky, using the polka as a lever, tipped the sledge up at an angle of forty-five degrees, exposing the bottom of one runner, and proceeded to scrape it with a knife he always carried in a sheath at his thigh. then from under his fur coat he drew out a little bottle of water which was fastened about his neck with a cord, and wetting a piece of deer fur as one would wet a sponge, he drew it rapidly along the runner, with the result that a thin film of ice was formed along its whole length. the other runner was treated likewise. this is a very important part of the preparation for a sledge-ride. [illustration: sledge-dogs, showing harness and method of hitching.] while this was going on the dogs were continually yelping with excitement and leaping in their collars, eager to be off. old chrisoffsky quieted them with the cry "chy, chy, chy." the old gentleman himself was to be my driver, and i mounted and was carefully tucked in by kindly, even if dirty, hands, while chrisoffsky restrained the dogs. i said good-by, and settled back to witness a marvelous feat of human dexterity on the part of the driver, and of almost human intelligence on the part of the dogs. it was a crisp, cold morning. the road was well broken, but the difficulty was in getting out of the village with its narrow, winding paths to the open tundra where the road was straight and easy. as chrisoffsky untied the cord from the bow, the alert dogs gave a wild yell, and strained at their collars as though they had gone mad. he drew out the polka, placed one foot on the runner, gave the bow a jerk to dislodge the sledge from its position in the snow, and shouted, "hyuk, hyuk, hyuk!" to the impatient dogs. they sprang forward together, giving the sledge a jerk that nearly threw me overboard, and dashed forward at a terrific speed, chrisoffsky still standing on the runner and waving the polka in his hand. we were off like a shot amid the laughter and good-bys of chrisoffsky's numerous progeny. the trick was to get the dogs around those sharp curves at such a speed without upsetting the sledge. the driver by shouting, "put, put, put!" could make them swerve about forty-five degrees to the right, and they would continue to turn till he stopped; then they would go straight ahead. if he wanted them to turn to the left he would give a strong guttural, scraping noise that sounded like an intensified german "ch," repeated as long as he wished them to continue turning. if we met an obstruction he would leap off, even when going at full speed, and by means of the bow pull or push the sledge free from the impending smash, and then leap on again as nimbly as a cat, despite his sixty-odd years. as we swept out of the village, followed by the shouts of "doswi dania" (good-by), we plunged down into a gully and up the other side on to the open tundra, the dogs on the dead run. for a time our speed must have been nearly that of a greyhound at full stretch. old chrisoffsky looked back at me and laughed, and asked me how i liked it. i have ridden a good many kinds of vehicles, but for beauty of motion give me a narta with fourteen big, wild dogs, and a smooth road. the narta goes like a snake, it is so sinuous and adapts itself so perfectly to the irregularities of the road. after a while the dogs got the "wire edge" worked off their enthusiasm and settled down to a good steady trot that took us along at the rate of seven miles an hour. they worked together as smoothly as a machine. when they became thirsty, they would lap up the snow beside the path. if one of the dogs stops drawing and begins to shirk, the driver stands up and throws the polka at him, hitting him on the head or back, and then, by a dexterous motion, pushes the narta to one side and recovers the polka as the sledge passes it. the dog so warned will probably go miles with his head over his shoulder watching to see if he is going to be struck again; and all the other dogs, too, keep a weather-eye open. the best dogs are always in the lead, and the poorest ones back near the driver, where he can manage them most easily. if a dog refuses to draw, the sledge is stopped and the driver, to an accompaniment of very choice language, beats the sluggard with the lash of the polka till he deems the punishment sufficient. that dog will need no more reminders for a day at least. almost always after starting out one or two dogs have to be handled in this manner before they will settle down to the day's work. not infrequently dog-teams, meeting in the road, will stop and the drivers will proceed to "swap horses," or rather dogs, in the true david harum style. but the two leaders are never exchanged in this way. they are the driver's favorites, and are too valuable to risk in such a trade. even if their master is starving he will not part with his leaders. about five miles out, we met a team of dogs going up-country. we stopped simultaneously to exchange news, and inside of ten seconds one of our dogs made a jump at one of the other team. this was the signal, and in an instant all the twenty-eight dogs were at it tooth and nail in one grand scrimmage. after beating them unmercifully, the drivers were able to separate the two teams, and we found that three of our dogs were limping. i then learned that in a fight the siberian dog does not make for his antagonist's throat, but for his feet, for he seems to know that injury to that member is the most serious that can happen to a sledge-dog. it was amusing to see with what deftness they would draw their feet back from the snap of the enemy. the neck is generally covered with a thick growth of hair which is impervious to teeth, while from the ankle to the foot the hair is cut away by the driver to prevent the snow from balling upon it. our troubles proved not to be serious, and at the end of the third hour we approached ghijiga. as soon as the dogs scented the town they gave a simultaneous yelp and broke into a swift run, as is always their custom in approaching any settlement. at the same time all the dogs of the village, apparently, came rushing out to meet us, and ran alongside yelping and snapping in a friendly way at our dogs. old chrisoffsky drew up with a flourish before my cabin, where i received a hearty welcome from the townsfolk. this day's trip from chrisoffsky's house by dog-sledge cost me the enormous sum of one rouble, or fifty cents in united states gold. [illustration: mr. vanderlip's dog-sled loaded.] it was now late in october, and it was necessary for me to stop in ghijiga while my winter outfit of clothes was being prepared. the snow was already deep and the river frozen solid, excepting at the rapids. but cold as it was, my work was but just beginning, for it is only in winter that long distance travel is possible. in summer you may struggle across six or eight miles of spongy tundra a day, but in winter you can easily cover from sixty to ninety miles, depending upon the quality of your teams and the number of your relays. by this time the natives were beginning to bring in their furs and other valuables to exchange with the merchants of the trading company. it may be of interest to give the prevailing prices. the native, ordinarily, does not take money for his skins, but various kinds of necessaries. reducing it all, however, to a monetary basis, we find that he receives for sable skin ten to thirteen roubles; red-fox skin, two to three roubles; white-fox skin, one and a half roubles; black-fox skin, fifty to one hundred and fifty roubles; blue-squirrel skin, thirty-five cents; unborn-deer skin, twelve cents; turbogan (kind of coon), fifteen cents; yearling-deer skin, seventy-five cents; sea-dog skin, one rouble; black-bear skin, seven roubles; brown-bear skin, five roubles; white-bear skin, twenty-five roubles; walrus rope, two cents a yard; walrus ivory, from five cents to one and a half roubles a tusk; mammoth tusk, five to six roubles; fur coats, one and a half to five roubles; boots, twenty-five cents to seventy-five cents a pair. for an ermine skin he is wont to receive two needles or a piece of sugar as large as a thimble. in exchange for these commodities the traders give tea, sugar, powder, lead, cartridges, tobacco, bar iron one inch wide by a quarter of an inch thick, needles, beads, and various other trinkets. when the goods are marketed it is found that the company makes anywhere from one hundred to one thousand per cent. profit. tea, the article most called for, allows only one hundred per cent. profit. on sugar some three hundred per cent. is made, and on the trinkets and other miscellaneous goods anywhere from five hundred to one thousand per cent. is made. [illustration: ghijiga river in winter.] several significant facts are to be deduced from this list: first, the low price that is paid for sables compared with the prices they bring in the european market; second, the comparatively high price the skin of the black fox brings, although it is only a fraction of what it costs at home (a single skin has brought as high as four thousand dollars in paris); third, the extremely low cost of ermine; and fourth, the fact that there is no active trade in mammoth tusks, although they are plentiful. they are often ten feet in length, and it might be supposed that they would contain ivory enough to make them worth much more than they bring; but the fact is that it is fossil ivory, and the outside of each tusk is so far broken and decayed that only the very center of the tusk contains marketable ivory. the common rule is to give the natives one year's credit; the tea, sugar, tobacco, and other articles which they receive this year being paid for by the skins which they bring next year. the plan works well, for the natives are scrupulous in the payment of their debts. and furthermore, the traders, being on the spot, have a wide personal acquaintance among the natives and know just whom they can depend upon. of course the most valuable portion of the produce of this north country is sable skins. there are four kinds, or rather grades, of sables. the finest come from the lena river district; the second grade from the territory of which we are writing and within a radius of five hundred miles about the head of the okhotsk sea; the third grade from the amur river district, and the fourth from manchuria. generally, the farther north one goes the better the sables. before siberia was conquered by russia, sables were extremely common, but gradually they were pushed back by the coming of settlers, for they will not remain in the vicinity of human dwellings. they live in holes, as do the martens or ermines, but those who have studied their habits say that they frequently build nests of sticks and grass in the branches of trees, and use them alternately with their holes. they usually sleep about half the day, and roam about in search of food the other half. in the early spring they live on hares, though they will also eat weasles or ermine. when the berries are in season they subsist solely on cranberries, blueberries, and especially the berries of the shad-bush. the natives say that eating these last causes them to itch and rub themselves against the trees, which for the time being spoils their fur; so that while the shad-bush is in berry no sables are caught. about the end of march the sable brings forth its young, from three to five in the litter, and suckles them from four to six weeks. the method of trapping sables has been well described by a quaint writer near the beginning of the nineteenth century, and, as there have been very few changes during the interval, he is worth quoting: the sable hunters, whether russian or native, begin to set out for hunting about the beginning of september. some russians go themselves, and others hire people to hunt for them, giving them proper clothes and instruments for hunting, and provisions for the time of their being out. when they return from the chase they give their masters all the game, and restore them likewise all that they received, except the provisions. a company that agrees to hunt together assembles from six to forty men, though formerly there were sometimes even fifty. they provide a small boat for every three or four men, which they cover over; and take with them such persons as understand the language of the people among whom they go to hunt, and likewise the places properest for hunting. these persons they maintain at the public charge, and give them, besides, an equal share of the game. in these boats every hunter lays thirty poods of rye-flour, one pood[ ] of wheat-flour, one pood of salt, and a quarter of a pood of groats. every two men must have a net, a dog, and several poods of provisions for the dog, a bed and covering, a vessel for preparing their bread, and a vessel to hold leaven. they carry with them very few firearms. [ ] russian weight equivalent to thirty-six pounds avoirdupois. the boats are then drawn up-stream as far as they can go, where the hunters build for themselves. here they all assemble and live until the river is frozen over. in the mean time they choose for their chief leader one who has been oftenest upon these expeditions; and to his orders they profess an entire obedience. he divides the company into several small parties, and names a leader to each, except his own, which he himself directs; he also appoints the places where each party is to hunt. as soon as the season begins, this division into small parties is unalterable, even though the whole company consists of only eight or nine, for they never all go toward the same place. when their leaders have given them their orders, every small company digs pits upon the road by which they must go. in these pits they lay up for every two men three bags of flour against their return, when they shall have consumed all their other provisions; and whatever they have left in the huts they are obliged to hide also in pits, lest the wild inhabitants should steal it. as soon as the rivers are frozen over and the season is proper for the sable hunting, the chief of the leaders calls all the huntsmen into the hut, and, having prayed to god, gives orders to every chief of each small company, and despatches them the same road which was before assigned them. then the leader sets out one day before the rest to provide lodging-places for them. when the chief leader despatches the under-leaders he gives them several orders; one of which is that each should build his first lodging in honor of some church, which he names, and the other lodgings to some such saint whose image he has with him, and that the first sable they catch should be laid aside in the quarter of the church, and at their return be presented to it. these sables they call "god's sables," or the church's. the first sable that is caught in the quarter of each saint is given to the person who brought the image of that saint with him. on their march they support themselves with a wooden crutch about four feet long; upon the end of which they put a cow's horn, to keep it from being split by the ice, and a little above they bind it around with thongs to keep it from sinking too deep in the snow. the upper part is broad like a spade, and serves to shovel away the snow or to take it up and put it into their kettles, for they must use snow, as they have frequently no water. the principal chief having sent out the small parties, starts with his own. when they come to the places of lodging they build little huts of logs, and bank them up with snow round about. they hew several trees upon the road, that they may the more easily find their way in the winter. near every quarter they prepare their trap-pits, each of which is surrounded with sharp stakes, about six or seven feet high, and about four feet distant, and is covered over with boards to prevent the snow from falling in. the entrance through the stakes is narrow, and over it a board is hung so nicely that by the least touch of the sables it turns and throws them into the trap; and they must absolutely go this way to reach a piece of fish or flesh with which the trap is baited. the hunters stay in a station till they have a sufficient number of traps set, every hunter being obliged to make twenty in a day. when they have passed ten of these quarters the leader sends back half of his company to bring up the provisions that were left behind, and with the remainder he advances to build more huts and set more traps. these carriers must stop at all the lodging-places to see that the traps are in order, and take out any sables they may find in them, and skin them, which none must pretend to do but the chief man of the company. if the sables are frozen they thaw them out by putting them under the bedclothes with them. when the skins are taken off, all present sit down and are silent, being careful that nothing is hanging on the stakes. the body of the sable is laid upon dried sticks, and these are afterward lighted, the body of the animal smoked, and then buried in the snow or the earth. often when they apprehend that the tunguses may meet them and take away their booty, they put the skins into hollow pieces of wood and seal up the ends with snow, which being wetted soon freezes. these they hide in the snow near their huts, and gather them up when they return in a body. when the carriers are come with provisions, then the other half are sent for more; and thus they are employed in hunting, the leader always going before to build traps. when they find few sables in their traps they hunt with nets, which they can only do when they find the fresh tracks of sables in the snow. these they follow till it brings them to the hole where the sable has entered; or if they lose it near other holes, they put smoking pieces of rotten wood to them, which generally forces the sable to leave the hole. the hunter at the same time has spread his net, into which the animal usually falls; and for precaution his dog is generally near at hand. thus the hunter sits and waits sometimes two or three days. they know when the sable falls into the net by the sound of two small bells which are fastened to it. they never put smoky pieces of wood into those holes which have only one opening, for the sable would sooner be smothered than come towards the smoke, in which case it is lost. when the chief leader and all the hunters are gathered together, then the leaders of the small parties report to the chief how many sables or other beasts their party has killed, and if any of the parties have done anything contrary to his orders and the common laws. these crimes they punish in different ways. some of the culprits they tie to a stake; others they oblige to ask pardon from every one in the company; a thief they beat severely, and allow him no part of the booty; nay, they even take his own baggage from him and divide it among themselves. they remain in their headquarters until the rivers are free of ice; and after the hunting they spend their time preparing the skins. then they set out in the boats they came in, and when they get home they give the sables to the several churches to which they promised them; and then, having paid their fur-tax, they sell the rest, dividing equally the money or goods which they receive for them. before kamchatka was conquered by the russians the sables were so plentiful that a hunter could easily take seventy or eighty in a season, but they were esteemed more for their flesh than for their fur. at first the natives paid their tribute in sables, and would give eight skins for a knife and eighteen for an ax. chapter ix off for the north--a runaway my winter wardrobe of deerskin--shoes that keep the feet warm when it is sixty degrees below zero--_plemania_, a curious native food in tabloid form--other provisions--outline of proposed exploration about the sources of the ghijiga river--four hours of sun a day--when dog meets deer--a race for life and a ludicrous dénouement--more queer native dishes--curious habits of the sledge-dog. i now set about preparing my winter wardrobe. with the aid of my good friend mrs. braggin, several native women were set at work to make a complete suit of native clothes, for i knew that only in these would i be able to endure the rigors of their arctic winter. the trousers were made of yearling-deer skin tanned soft on the inside, and the short hair left on the outside. a short jacket of the same material completed the inner suit. the socks were made of the same skin with the fur left on the inside. they reached well to the knee. over these came a pair of boots made from skin taken from reindeer's legs, with soles of seal-hide. a cushion of grass is used in the boot. the skin taken from the reindeer's leg is better adapted to the manufacture of boots than any other part of the skin, because the hair is shorter and denser in growth. i also had boots with soles made of the fur which grows between the toes of the reindeer, and which is of such a texture that it prevents slipping on the ice. on each foot of the reindeer there is a tuft of this hair about as large as a silver dollar, and it takes twelve of them to make the sole of a single boot. these boots are used only in extremely cold weather. even with the thermometer sixty degrees below zero they prevent cold feet. for an overcoat i had a great koklanka made. it was shaped like a huge night-gown, reaching to the knee. it was made of two thicknesses of yearling-deer skin, and was provided with an ample hood. it is too heavy to wear when walking, but is used in the dog- or deer-sledge and when sleeping. it is usually belted in with a gay-colored woolen scarf. for head-gear i wore a "nansen" woolen hat capable of being drawn down over the face. without it my nose would have been severely punished. my heavy mittens were made of fur from the deer's leg, with the hair outside. even in the worst of weather they were a complete protection from cold. of snow-shoes i took three pairs, two being designed for use in soft snow. they measured five feet and ten inches long by eight inches wide, being pointed and curved up in front and gathered to a point at the back. they were shod with reindeer fur, with the hair pointing back, thus preventing slipping. one pair for use on hard snow were three feet long and eight inches wide. [illustration: deer crossing river.] an indispensable part of my equipment was a sleeping-bag made of the thick winter fur of the reindeer, with the fur inside. it was provided with a hood that, when pulled down, completely shut out the cold. one would suppose that the sleeper must smother in such a case; but, although at first it seemed rather close, i suffered no inconvenience. enough air found its way in around the edge of the hood for respiration. for provisions i first laid in several hundred pounds of _plemania_, as the russians call it. it consists of little balls of reindeer meat chopped fine, and surrounded with a casing of dough. each ball was about the size of an english walnut. these froze immediately and remained so till thrown into a pot of boiling water. ten minutes then sufficed to make a most tempting dish. to this i added several hundred pounds of hard rye bread, which had been cut in slices and dried on the top of the oven to the consistency of stone. tea, sugar, and tobacco were added as luxuries, though the first is well-nigh a necessity, and all of them are potent levers in opening the hearts of the native korak or tunguse. i took a small quantity of dried fruits, which, of course, proved most useful in a land where food is almost all of an animal nature. it was my intention to explore first the mountains in which the ghijiga river has its source, together with the tributary streams; and after that to cross over the mountains and explore the head waters of the rivers flowing north into the arctic ocean. i anticipated that this would take at least two months. old chrisoffsky furnished six dog-sledges; he himself and two of his sons acted as drivers. the other three drivers were hired from ghijiga. my party consisted, then, of the following members: my faithful kim, who stuck to me through thick and thin, though, at first, he little dreamed how far i would take him from the pleasant hills and valleys of his beloved chosun; my tunguse guide, fronyo, who had proved such a valuable help in my trip into his district; the six drivers, myself, and the eighty-four dogs. i had left behind all my russian help, as they would have been of no value on such an expedition as this. the reader may imagine that our stock of food was small for such a party, but we were going into a reindeer country where we were sure of securing all the meat we wanted. so all the available space on the sledges was loaded with dog-food--namely, salmon heads and backs. it was now november, and there were only four hours of sunlight--from ten to two. but the northerner does not depend on the sun. the glistening snow and the stars overhead give sufficient light for ordinary travel. [illustration: reindeer.] we were off with a dash and a happy howl of mingled dogs and village children, at one in the afternoon, and that night we spent at chrisoffsky's village. the next morning we were off again in the gray light at seven o'clock, up the bed of the ghijiga river. the third day out we neared the yourta of a wealthy tunguse magistrate. at four o'clock in the afternoon the dogs suddenly broke into a swift run, and we knew they had scented something that interested them. we soon perceived that we had struck a deer trail and that we were nearing an encampment. we turned a bend in the road and there, a hundred yards ahead of us, saw the cause of the dogs' excitement. a team of reindeer were running for their lives. their tunguse driver was lashing them with the whip and urging them on with all his might, for he knew as well as we that if our dogs overtook them before the camp was reached, we seven men would be utterly powerless to prevent the dogs from tearing the deer to pieces. chrisoffsky put on the brake with all his might, but it had not the least effect. our fourteen dogs had become wolves in the turn of a hand and no brake could stop them. there were many stumps and other obstructions along our path, and my driver had great difficulty in preventing a smash-up. for a short time the deer held their own, and, in fact, gained on us, but before the yourta came in sight we were gaining rapidly. while we were still at some distance the people of the village, warned by the cries of the dogs, comprehended what was the matter, and, arming themselves with sticks and spears, came running toward us. as they came on they spread out in a fan-like formation across the trail. when the terrified deer reached them they opened and let the team through, and instantly closed again to dispute the passage of our dogs. chrisoffsky was in no wise minded to let these natives club his dogs and perhaps injure the valuable animals, so he resorted to the last expedient. giving a shout of warning to me he suddenly, by a deft motion, turned our sledge completely over, landing me in a snow-drift on my head. in this position the sledge was all brake and the dogs were forced to stop, leaping in their harness and yelling like fiends incarnate. i sat up in the snow-bank and laughed. the other drivers had followed our example, and the struggling tangle of sledges, harness, dogs and men formed a scene that to the novice at least was highly ludicrous. the drivers and the village people were belaboring the dogs, and the entire herd of reindeer belonging to the village were escaping in all directions up the hills. when order was at last restored, which was not accomplished till every deer was out of sight, we made our way to the yourta, which was large and comfortable, and, as usual, the women set about making tea. the reader may well ask how the natives can use both dogs and reindeer if the very sight of a deer has such a maddening effect on the dogs. the explanation is simple. the two never go together. there is the dog country and the deer country, and the two do not impinge upon each other. even among the same tribe there may be a clear division. for instance, there are the "deer koraks" and the "dog koraks." in some of the villages of the former there may occasionally be seen a few low-bred curs which are not used for sledging and have been trained not to worry deer. confusion is often unavoidably caused by traveling with dogs through a deer country, but the natives do not take it in ill part, knowing that if they themselves have to travel with deer through a dog country they will cause quite as much inconvenience. while we were drinking tea and eating hard bread i noted that the settlement contained some thirty men, with their wives and children. the women hastened to prepare a dinner of unborn-deer's flesh and deer tongues. frozen marrow bones, uncooked, were broken and the marrow, in the shape of sticks or candles, was passed around as a great delicacy. these dishes, together with frozen cranberries, formed our repast, and a very good one we voted it. when we were done i went outside and found, to my surprise, that the dogs had not yet been fed. i remonstrated with chrisoffsky, but he answered that they had not yet finished their evening toilet. then i saw that the dogs were busy licking themselves and biting the pieces of frozen snow out from between their toes. my driver explained that if they were fed before performing this very necessary task, they would immediately lie down to sleep and wake up in the morning with sore feet and rheumatism, and then they would be useless for several days. it takes the dogs a good hour before they have groomed themselves fit for dinner. they seem to know that they can get nothing to eat before this work is done, but the minute they have finished they sit up and begin to howl for their meal. each dog receives two or three salmon backs and heads. this is a fairly good amount considering that the salmon were originally eighteen- or twenty-pound fish. the dogs were all left in harness and still attached to the main tug. this is pulled taut and anchored at the front with the polka, which prevents the dogs from fighting, for no more than two can reach each other at a time. as they feed, the drivers watch them to see that they do not steal each other's food. after they finish their dinner they scratch a shallow place in the snow, curl up with their backs to the wind and go to sleep. they are never unfastened from the sledge from one end of the journey to the other. they literally live in the harness. while the dogs were eating, the mongrel curs belonging to the encampment (an entirely different breed from the sledge-dog) stood around and yelped saucily at the big intruders, but the sledge-dogs gave them no notice whatever. [illustration: theodosia chrisoffsky, guide.] the dogs sleep quietly all night unless one of them happens to raise his nose and emit a long-drawn howl. at this signal they all join in the howl for about three minutes, stopping at the same instant. if some puppy happens to give an additional yelp, all the others turn a disgusted look at him as if, indeed, he ought to display better manners. this howling concert generally comes off two or three times a night. we do not know what causes it, but probably it is some subconscious recollection of their ancestral wolfhood. the same thing happens whenever the team stops on the road. they all sit and howl for several minutes. on the road the dogs are fed simply with the dried fish heads and backs; but at home a more elaborate meal is prepared for them. water is put into a sort of trough, and then rotten fish, which has been kept in pits, is added, with a few of the dried fish, and the whole is cooked by throwing in red-hot stones. this is fed to the dogs only at night. in the summer-time the dogs have to forage for themselves, which they do by digging out tundra-rats. by the time summer is over the dogs are so fat that they have to be tied up and systematically starved till brought into condition for the sledge again. this period is one long concert of howls, but the natives do not seem to mind it. the food of the dogs is entirely carnivorous, for they would rather live by gnawing their own harness than to eat bread, even if the latter could be supplied. the instinct by which these animals foresee the coming of a blizzard is truly wonderful. the unfailing sign of a coming storm is the pawing of the snow. for what reason they paw the snow will probably never be known. this, too, may be some residual taint of their original savage state. chapter x through the drifts sledging over snow four feet deep--making a camp in the snow--finding traces of gold--a grand slide down a snow-covered hill--my polka breaks with disastrous results--prospecting over the stanovoi range. the next morning we had before us ten miles of forest in which the snow lay four feet deep, and the trail was unbroken. this meant serious work for our teams. at the advice of chrisoffsky i hired two reindeer narties to go ahead and break the trail, but they had to keep a mile in advance, out of sight of our dogs. the snow had been falling all night, and when we came out in the morning, we saw only a lot of little snow hummocks, like baby graves in the snow. chrisoffsky cried, "hyuk, hyuk!" and there occurred a most surprising resurrection. every dog jumped clear of the ground from his warm bed and clamored to be off. i looked to see them fed, but nothing were they to have till their day's work was done. when fed during the day they are lazy and useless, but with the anticipation of salmon heads before them they push on heroically. it would be difficult to express adequately my admiration for these animals. they are patient, faithful, and always ready for work. a mile, then, in the lead went the reindeer narties to break the trail; and ahead of them were two tunguse villagers on snow-shoes to mark the way for the deer. a mile in the rear came the dogs, and heavy work it was, as is shown by the fact that when lunch-time came we had made only five miles. when we came up with the tunguses they had already built a fire, and water was boiling. the deer were tethered in the bushes about two hundred yards away, out of sight of the dogs. the latter smelled them, however, and were making desperate efforts to break out of their harness and give chase, but their efforts seemed futile, so we paid no more attention to them. as we were busy drinking tea i happened to look around, and was dismayed to see that the worst dog in the pack had broken loose and was already near the deer, who were plunging and making desperate efforts to escape. when the dog was almost at the throat of the nearest deer it broke its fastenings and made off through the snow, followed by the rest of the herd. we hurried after them on our snow-shoes at our best speed. the deer could easily outstrip the dog in the deep snow, but we wanted to stop the chase before they were completely frightened away. but we were too late. by the time that we had secured the dog the deer were a mile away, making straight for home, and we knew that nothing could stop them till they found themselves in their own village. [illustration: mr. vanderlip and reindeer team.] thus it came about that we had to break our own trail for the balance of the way through the woods. this proved to be extremely difficult. every man had to put his shoulder to the wheel, or rather to the sledge, and frequently it was necessary to use several teams of dogs on a single sledge, and then return for the other sledge. when night came we found that we had covered nine miles, after an exceedingly hard day's work. we were still a mile from the river, where we were sure to find a good road on the ice. we had now to prepare for the night. with our snow-shoes for shovels we cleared a space twelve feet square right down to the ground, and built a roaring fire in the center of the cleared spot. the loaded sledges were placed on the banks about the sides, while the dogs lay, as usual, in the snow. our sleeping-bags were placed about the fire on piles of fir boughs, and after a good supper of reindeer soup, bread, and tea, we lay down and went to sleep. a light snow covered us with a mantle of down, which ensured our warmth. when i awoke in the morning and opened my hood, i found two inches of snow over me. that day we floundered through the remaining mile of deep snow to the river. i was pushing one of the sledges, when we came to the steep bank that leads down to the river. the sled began to glide down the declivity, settling deeper and deeper. chrisoffsky called to me to get on quickly, as there was open water beneath, but he was too late. i was already in the icy water up to my knees. we had unfortunately struck a snow-bridge over open water. the sled was fast in the snow, and the dogs were struggling madly. by vigorous pulling and pushing we managed to get the sledge out on to the ice. the other drivers, who were behind, saw our predicament and went up-stream, prodding with their polkas until they found solid ice beneath. chrisoffsky immediately began taking the lashings off the pack on the sled to get me dry fur socks and boots. almost before i could undo the lashings, those i wore were frozen stiff. the last one was cut away with a knife. i applied a vigorous rubbing with snow to my feet and they were soon glowing with warmth. then pulling on the warm, soft fur socks and fresh boots, i found that i had suffered no harm; but chrisoffsky warned me that whenever i had wet feet i must change immediately or serious consequences would result. at the time, the thermometer stood between ten and fifteen degrees below zero. on examining the wind-swept bars of the creek there seemed to be good promise of gold, so making camp near timber i prepared for a three or four days' stay. the ground was frozen to bed-rock, and it was necessary to thaw it out all the way down. the following day i unloaded the sledges and sent them into the woods under the direction of chrisoffsky to haul in fuel for the fires. i selected a likely spot and proceeded to thaw out a shaft. as this was very slow work, i determined to try it in several places at the same time. after the fires had burned three hours the picks and shovels would be called into play, and we could take out about twelve or fifteen inches of gravel. the surface gravel showed some small "colors" in the pan, and i determined to set watches and keep the fires going night and day. a windlass was rigged over one of the shafts, and we went down twenty-five feet, till we came to boulders which showed that we were near bed-rock. six inches more brought us to the end. i eagerly panned out some of the gravel and found several tiny nuggets, but was forced to admit that there was not enough gold to pay for working. the other shafts showed the same results; so we were compelled to move on after four days of exhausting and fruitless work. we repeated this operation at several other points on the river, and carefully examined the outcroppings all along the stream. coming to the head of the river, we crossed over the summit of the ridge. the aneroid showed that we were seven thousand six hundred feet above the sea level. when we reached the top, we found that a long, smooth stretch of snow swept down into the valley beyond. for a quarter of a mile the smooth, hard surface was unbroken by bush or stone. i asked chrisoffsky how it would do to slide down, but he shook his head and replied that it would be dangerous for dogs and sledges alike. i had, however, conceived the foolish notion that it would relieve the monotony of life a little to slide down that incline, and i over-persuaded my driver to make the attempt. moreover, it would save several miles of travel over a safer but more circuitous route. the dogs were unhitched. chrisoffsky's two sons took one of the sledges, and, by sticking their heels into the snow, slid about half way down somewhat slowly, then they both climbed on to the sledge, stuck their polkas into the snow for brakes, and "let her go." they went the remaining distance like an arrow, and shot out into the plain below triumphantly. they stopped and waved their hands as much as to say, "see how easy it is." chrisoffsky then sent down one team of dogs, still fastened to the tug. this was a mistake, for the leaders went cautiously and the others crowded on them. in an instant they were one howling, wrangling ball of dog-fur rolling down the hill. the natives were all shouting and cursing their liveliest, but i could only hold my sides with laughter. i utterly refused to see the serious side of the adventure. the remaining dogs were sent down two and two. chrisoffsky and i, with one sled, were the last to go. sitting on opposite sides of the sledge with our polkas carefully adjusted, we slipped over the brink and shot down the hill. by some perverse chance my polka broke in my hands, the sledge slewed around, and we both went head over heels. i landed on my head some yards from the careening sledge and continued my journey down the hill in a variety of attitudes, all of which were exciting, but none very comfortable. had i not been so heavily bundled up i could not have escaped serious injury. old chrisoffsky and the sledge were a good second in the race, first one and then the other being on top. they held together bravely. when we all rounded up at the bottom and took an inventory of damages, we found that there were no bones broken and that no harm had been done, except to my winchester rifle, the barrel of which was sprung. [illustration: native winter camp.] and as the days passed, i continued to busy myself examining the outcroppings or digging in the creek beds for signs of gold, until about the middle of december, by which time i had gone over that section of the stanovoi range pretty thoroughly as far as their southern slopes were concerned. and then i essayed to pass over the lofty range to discover what was on the other side. chapter xi buried in a blizzard a trip to the northern side of the stanovoi range of mountains--nijni kolymsk, the most-feared convict station--sledging by light of the aurora--lost in a blizzard on the vast tundra--five days in a snow dugout--i earn a reputation as a wizard--back at chrisoffsky's. in order to reach the northern side of the stanovoi range of mountains it was necessary to make use of one of the few passes that are to be found. at an elevation of nine thousand feet, we succeeded in accomplishing the passage, and found ourselves on the head waters of the kolyma river. the name as given in that locality was more like killamoo than kolyma. due north, far across the wastes of snow, was the town of nijni kolymsk, the spot most dreaded by siberian convicts. this station is used only for the most dangerous political prisoners. about their only occupation is to gather hay and pick berries in summer. provisions are carried to them in the summer by a man-of-war. none but russians in authority are ever allowed near the place. the natives could give me very little definite information about it. they had strict orders from the magistrate in ghijiga not to approach this convict station. we swung to the northeast and east, which course would bring us back to ghijiga. wherever it was possible we examined the float rock and sunk shafts to determine whether any of the precious metal was hidden away in the mountains or beneath the waters of the streams. as we came back over the mountains our course lay over the head waters of the paran river, which runs southeasterly and enters the okhotsk sea. we passed over the divide between this and the ghijiga, and tried to steer a straight course for chrisoffsky's house. here we came to a stretch of tundra two hundred miles wide. the snow was hard and the going very good. we struck the trail of a number of "dog" koraks who were, evidently, bringing in their furs. the tundra was as level as a floor, and the driving was so easy that it was possible to sit and doze while the dogs sped over the white expanse. as it was now december the nights were made bright by the light of the aurora, while at noon the sun just shone, a red disk, above the southern horizon. this is the month noted in that region for its severe storms. the days were mostly overcast. the second morning after we had started out across the tundra a light flurry of snow blew up. chrisoffsky shook his head and said it was going to storm. we were just half way across the bare tundra, the worst place possible in which to try to weather one of these storms, because of the utter lack of fire-wood. chrisoffsky called back to me that he was looking for a _porgo_, which, in his dialect, means a blizzard. about noon the storm struck us with full force. i was continually standing up in the sledge to catch a sight, if possible, of some trailing pine where we could make an excavation and find fire-wood; but it was all in vain. at last the dogs lost sight of the trail and could follow it only by the sense of smell. when the snow came down so heavily that we could hardly see our leading dogs, we halted to let the others catch up with us. with our snow-shoes we dug down six feet to the ground, making an excavation that was, roughly, eight feet square. placing the three sledges around the edge of the hole, we banked them in with snow. then we took a tarpaulin from one of the sledges and with walrus-hide rope improvised a sort of roof over our dug-out. the dogs, after washing themselves, dug holes in the snow and settled down comfortably to sleep. they were almost immediately covered with snow. at this time the thermometer stood thirty-five below zero. we could not tell whether it was actually snowing or whether the snow was only being driven by the wind, but at any rate, the air was filled with it and the prospect was anything but exhilarating. we lined the bottom of the hole with furs, got out our sleeping-bags, and prepared for a long siege. as we were without fuel, we had to eat cold food. frozen reindeer meat taken raw is not an appetizing dish, but this, together with hard bread and pounded soup-ball, formed our diet for the next few days. as we had but few fish left, the dogs were put on short allowance. in this snowy prison we were held for four mortal days, and were obliged to climb out every three or four hours and relieve the tarpaulin of the weight of snow. our furs were damp, caused by our breath, which congealed and thawed again from the warmth of the body; to say the very least of it, we were extremely uncomfortable. at last it got so bad that i gave orders to burn one of the sledges, and that day we feasted on hot tea. our deer meat was all gone, so we stopped feeding the dogs, and appropriated the remaining fish to our own use. the result was that the dogs began gnawing their harness, and had to be chained up with dog-chains which we carried for the purpose. the time spent in our snow retreat was not entirely lost. to while away the tedious hours i gave my arctic friends some lessons in astronomy, using snowballs as object-lessons. it was not an ideal observatory, but there was at least snow enough to have represented all the heavenly bodies, down to fixed stars of the fourteenth magnitude. it all began by their asking how god made the aurora. on the side of our excavation i made a rough bas-relief of the great masonic temple in chicago. they looked at it very politely, but i could see that they took me for the past master of lying. i told them all about elections, telephones, phonographs, and railroads, and gathered from their expression that they thought i had gone mad from the cold and exposure. they looked at one another and muttered, "duroc, duroc," which is russian for crazy. i also amused myself at their expense by the use of a compass and a little pocket magnet; the latter i palmed and with it made the magnetic needle play all sorts of antics. they asked what made the needle move about continually, and i replied that it would point to any place that i might designate, by simply requesting it to do so. chrisoffsky, the skeptical, thought he had caught me, for he immediately asked me to make it point toward ghijiga. now i happened to know about where ghijiga lay, for just before the storm came on i had caught a glimpse of a mountain near that town. so i put the compass in my lap, palmed the magnet, and began muttering and waving my hand over the compass. at the same time i repeated, in sepulchral tones, the magic formula: ere eirie ickery ann, fillisy follisy nicholas john, queevy quavy english navy, stickelum stackelum johniko buck! the hand with the magnet was now in the proper position, and the needle pointed steadily toward ghijiga. old chrisoffsky sat with amazement and fear pictured all over his face. he glanced over his shoulder as if looking for some place to run, and exclaimed in a deep and piteous tone, "dia bog!" which means, "o lord." after a long silence he asked me if the compass would answer his questions as well. i said i did not know, but that he might try it and see. concentrating his whole attention upon the compass, he bent over it and tried to imitate my motions, and asked the instrument to tell him the direction in which his house lay. of course the needle, which, meanwhile, i had been causing to swing about in all directions, now came to a standstill due north, directly away from his house. he looked puzzled and said it must be because he did not understand the wizard formula, and i promised to teach it to him at some future time. i also performed some other simple tricks, which actually frightened him so that for a time he went out and sat in the snow all alone. i found later that my reputation as a wizard spread through that whole district, and time and time again i had to go over these old tricks before admiring audiences. [illustration: mr. vanderlip on march with deer outfit.] during the night of the fifth day the storm passed and the stars came out once more. our bedraggled party crawled forth from our prison, and harnessed up the weak, but willing, dogs, who seemed to know that we were not far from home; for they tugged at their collars gladly, and we were soon gliding over the snow. ten miles from chrisoffsky's house we came down upon the wind-swept ice of the chorny raichka, a tributary of the ghijiga. from this point the going was ideal. we had timber on both sides, but we did not stop to build a fire. the dogs were very weak, yet they displayed wonderful mettle, knowing they were near home. they went so fast that the sledges were continually slewing about on the smooth ice in imminent danger of capsizing; but they were steadied by a clever use of the polka. while still a mile from chrisoffsky's, we saw women and children running out to meet us. because of the storm and the fact that we were two weeks overdue, we knew that there would be anxious mothers and wives in the little village. we came in with a flourish, a score of children hanging on the sides of the sledges. we encountered a terrific storm of kisses, which i evaded as best i could. willing hands unhitched the faithful dogs, and then we all went into the house. the village was warned of our approach while still far away, because each dog carried a little sleigh-bell on his back. the people had heard the tinkling of the bells sometime before we had come in sight. to say that we fed off the fat of the land is literally true. seal fat, deer fat, marrow fat, blubber galore with cranberries, and tea by the gallon. for once i gladly exchanged snow for vermin. perhaps the greatest comfort was the opportunity to wash my face and hands, which i had not been able to do for seven days. chapter xii christmas--the "deer koraks" i celebrate christmas day with the over-kind assistance of two hundred natives--koraks as sharp-shooters--comic features of a russian dance--off for kaminaw--another runaway--slaughtering deer--a curious provision of nature--eight families in one yourta--korak method of washing dishes--a herd of ten thousand deer. when i reached town the russians desired to know what i had accomplished, and i was obliged to tell them that i had discovered no considerable deposits of gold on the head waters of the ghijiga. some time before this i had caused it to become known that i would pay liberally in tea or other commodities for bags of rock picked up in the beds of streams and delivered in ghijiga. i now found upward of a ton of such specimens awaiting my inspection. this was my information bureau. i had found the natives trustworthy, and i knew they would not pick up specimens near by and claim they had been brought from a distance. some that i thus examined had been brought seven hundred miles. by a careful examination and classification of these specimens i was able to determine the various geological formations of the district, and the next three weeks were spent in this important work. i wanted to be off again promptly, but as christmas was at hand, it was impossible to secure dog-teams; so i was obliged to rest. as i sat in my cabin on christmas eve, thinking over old times, and feeling, perhaps, a trifle blue, i determined to usher in the great day with some éclat. so i loaded up every firearm that i had, and when midnight came i stepped outside and "let loose" with revolvers, rifles, and shotguns. the first effect was to wake up four hundred dogs, who responded with howls and barks, which they kept up till morning. at seven o'clock, my russian friends came flocking over to find out what i was celebrating. i told them that it was our christmas day. their christmas comes twelve days later than ours. when they found out the cause of my exhilaration they slipped away, but within three hours the women and children began to appear, each loaded with a steaming dish. there were meats, fowls, berries, pasties, fish, blubber, stuffed ptarmigan, deer tongues, and other things--enough to feed a hundred men. when the table was so full that it could hold no more, they put the dishes on the floor. i knew well that they had brought much more than i could handle, and i was somewhat embarrassed by their excessive generosity. but my fears were ill-founded, for soon the whole village began to arrive. the priests and magistrates came first, and then the rest in descending scale, and by the time they were done, all the good things that they had brought had been consumed, as well as all that i could obtain from mrs. braggin. two hundred were fed, and by night i was entirely cleaned out--cupboard, shelf, and cellar. what the small children could not eat they put in their pockets. the russian storekeepers sent me a bag of coppers, telling me that it was the custom to give each child a coin on such occasions. when i went to bed at night, i determined that i would never again disturb the peace of christmas night with firearms. on new year's eve, fearing that the ceremony might be repeated, i stole away on my snow-shoes and spent the day hunting ptarmigan. i had good luck, and bagged all i could carry. these beautiful little birds are about the size of a pigeon, but of heavier build. in summer their color is brown, but in winter it is pure white, and they sit motionless in the snow, so that it is almost impossible to discover them. the native boys kill them with bows and arrows. almost all the natives of the far north are good shots, being trained to it from boyhood. in order to catch ermine and _belk_ (arctic squirrel) they must be marksmen of the first order; for these animals are small, and must be shot in the head, or the skin is worthless. for this purpose, twenty-two caliber rifles of german manufacture are used. they are muzzle-loaders, and can be purchased in vladivostok for four roubles. the natives rig them up with a forked rest, and an ermine at seventy-five yards stands no chance of escape. about twenty years ago the russian government sent a company of expert cossack rifle-men into this north country to teach the natives how to shoot. these instructors never got further than ghijiga, though it had been the plan to distribute them throughout the district. targets were set up, and the cossacks did some fancy shooting. the natives looked on stolidly, and when asked to shoot, declined to do so, but called up some of their boys, who easily worsted the cossacks at their own game. the natives were always curious about my colts forty-five caliber six-shooters, as this weapon is not known in that section. in my younger days, i had seen something of arizona and texas life, and thought i was a pretty fair shot. one day a native with whom i was stopping asked me to let him have a shot with my revolver. i tore a small piece of paper from my note-book and pinned it on a tree about twenty yards distant. i shot first, and came within an inch or so of the paper--a fairly good shot; but the old korak took the weapon, and, bringing it slowly into position, let drive, and hit the paper. i could detect no look of exultation on his face, nor on that of any spectator. they took it as a matter of course that their tribesman should out-shoot me with my own weapon, the very first time he ever had one like it in his hand. i have never tried to shoot against a korak since then. my only consolation was that it might have been an accident, for he refused to shoot again, although i pressed him to do so. for hunting large game, they use a forty-four caliber winchester, or a forty-five caliber german muzzle-loader. the feasting at the russian christmas-tide lasts fully three days. in the morning the entire population attends church, after which, apparently, a contest ensues as to who shall get drunk first; and the priest generally wins. they hitch up their dog-teams, and go from house to house, feasting and drinking. etiquette demands that a man use his team, even if calling at a house ten rods away. the women troop about in gay dresses of calico, with bright silk handkerchiefs over their heads, and the men in their best furs, embroidered with silk. one of the most distinctive features of a christmas celebration is that each person takes a full bath with soap, before the great day is ushered in. at the same time, the hair is combed and done up afresh. the transformation is so great that it is often hard even for bosom friends to recognize one another. all day long bands of boys go about singing carols. they enter one's home, and bow before the icon, and sing their songs, after which it is the proper thing to give each of them a coin or something to eat. in the evening, young men repeat the same performance, except that they bring large illuminated wheels, which they whirl before the icon as they sing the christmas hymns. they receive about half a rouble apiece for this service. the next day i started in to return their calls. it is an insult not to taste every dish on the table of your host, and the result was that i soon reached my utmost capacity. in the evening, i dined with mrs. braggin, and afterward the room was cleared, and the whole village came in for a dance. for music, we had a piano, an accordion, and a violin; the last was played by an old russian, who knew sixteen bars of a single tune, and repeated it over and over, _ad nauseam_. in this primitive fashion, we made merry till the morning. the dance was a curious kind of quadrille, in which the men did almost all the dancing. the ladies stood at the corners, and the men in the center. the men danced very energetically, with many steps that resemble the "bucking" and "winging" of the negro in the united states. at the same time, they shouted at the top of their voices. as for the women, they merely moved forward and back, with little mincing steps, and then turned around in their places. all this time the samovar was going full blast, and every one was streaming with perspiration. [illustration: reindeer.] about midnight, the fun grew fast and furious, and every one started in to kiss and hug his neighbor; for by this time, more than half were intoxicated. the worst feature of such a russian festive occasion is, that every one grows fearfully affectionate as he begins to feel the effect of the liquor. when the christmas festivities were over, i made preparations to carry out a more extensive plan of exploration. it was my purpose to examine the valleys of the rivers running from the stanovoi range of mountains into bering sea; the beaches along the shore of that sea, and then to turn south to baron koff bay, on the eastern coast of kamchatka, where sulphur deposits were said to have been found; then across the neck of the kamchatka peninsula to cape memaitch, and around the head of the okhotsk sea to ghijiga, my starting-point. this trip was in the form of a rough circle, and the total distance, including excursions, proved to be upward of twenty-five hundred miles. this distance i had to cover between january and may , when the road would no longer be passable for sledges. my first work was to select and buy the best sledge-dogs to be found in the town. by this time, i had become fairly adept at driving a dog-team. old chrisoffsky did not care to undertake such a long trip, and so i selected as my head driver a half-caste named metrofon snevaydoff. two villagers also contracted to go as far as the village of kaminaw, which lies three hundred miles to the northeast of ghijiga. they would not go further, because the country beyond this was unknown to them. but the magistrate gave me a letter to two cossacks stationed at kaminaw, requesting them to furnish native dog-teams to take me on east from that point. i took but little dog-food, as the territory through which i was going abounds in reindeer, and we could get all the meat we needed. provisions were beginning to run low in ghijiga, and all i could buy was tea, sugar, tobacco, and a little dried fruit. it was the middle of january when we started out, all in good health and spirits. the thermometer stood at forty-six below zero. the dogs were fat, and their feet were in good condition. we whirled out of the village at breakneck speed, followed by friendly cries of "dai bog chust leewee budet!" ("god give you good luck!") i had all i could do to manage my team. the road was worn perfectly smooth, and the sledge would slew about from side to side in constant danger of striking some obstruction and going over. i had to pull off my koklanka and work in my sweater, and yet even in that biting air the exercise kept me quite warm. in two hours the dogs settled down to a steady six-mile gait, and, leaving old chrisoffsky's house on the left, i laid a direct course over the tundra for the mountains now visible far to the northeast. by five o'clock, we saw signs of deer, which showed us that we were nearing the encampment that was to be our lodging-place for the night. mounting a rise of land, we beheld, scattered over the face of the landscape, thousands of reindeer which belonged to the denizens of half a dozen skin yourtas, sheltered from the wind in the valley below. snevaydoff's team, which was in the lead, caught the scent of the deer, and dashed down the hill, and i after him, though i jammed my polka down and braked with all my might. it had no effect on my speed, and i saw that i was simply being run away with. on the left, near a yourta, a bunch of deer were standing, and, in spite of all my efforts, my dogs left the road and bolted straight for them. the deer bounded away in mad flight. snevaydoff had already turned his sledge over and brought his team to a halt, but i was enjoying a new sensation. i pulled out my polka and "let her slide," literally. i was minded to save the koraks the trouble of slaughtering a few of their deer by doing it myself. just as "old red" got a good mouthful of hair, our flight suddenly came to an end with the sledge turning upside down. the natives hurried up and caught the dogs, and, bringing them down to the yourtas, fastened them securely. i have coursed antelope in texas, and in arizona have picked wild turkeys from the ground while on horseback, but for good exhilarating sport give me fourteen wild sledge-dogs, the open tundra, and a bunch of deer ahead. i found, to my surprise and pleasure, that the old korak in charge of the village was the one who had helped me the summer before when i was trying to find my way back to ghijiga. i was now better able to talk with him than i had been at that time, especially as i had snevaydoff for interpreter. after tea, i went outside to see how things were getting on. four men were out among the herd, lassoing those intended for slaughter. they did it much after the fashion of cow-boys at home. having secured an animal, two men held it while a third drew out a long, keen knife and plunged it into the animal's heart. the poor beast would give one or two wild leaps, and then fall dead. the koraks do not bleed their animals when they butcher them. this scene was enacted three times, each deer being intended as food for a single team of dogs. it took place in plain sight of the dogs, who leaped in their collars, and yelled applause at every stroke of the knife. [illustration: herd of reindeer.] the men's work ended with killing the deer, and the women and children followed, the former with sharp knives, and the latter with bowls. it was their part of the work to skin and cut up the dead deer. with a deft stroke, they ripped up the belly and drew out the entrails, being very careful to leave all the coagulated blood in the abdominal cavity. when the viscera had all been removed, the carcass was tipped up, and the blood was caught in the bowls, and carried to the dogs. the tongue and the leg-bones were removed and laid aside for home use, and all the rest of the carcass went to the dogs. as the women were skinning the deer, i noticed that every few moments they would lean down and tear off, with their teeth, little round protuberances which grew on the under side of the skin. these were an inch long by a quarter of an inch thick, and were bedded in the skin, and surrounded with fat. they proved to be bots, formed by a fly that is the special torment of the deer in summer. on one skin i counted more than four hundred of them. a little child came up and offered me a handful. i found that they are considered a delicacy by the natives. the flies deposit minute eggs in the skin in mid-summer, and the larva lies under the skin, imbedded in fat. the following spring the deer is tormented with itching, and rubs against anything it can find, and so liberates the larva, which comes forth in the shape of a fly, an inch in length, only to repeat the same operation. it is a marvelous provision of nature that teaches the fly to seek the only place where its larvæ can be kept warm and safe during the terrible cold of winter. when the last deer had been skinned, the men brought axes and chopped the carcasses into equal portions, each dog receiving a good ten pounds. when i went back to the yourta i left them snarling and growling over their meal, like so many wolves. the yourtas of these natives are covered with deerhides. the hair is cut down to a quarter of an inch in length, and is put on the outside. the construction of the frame-work of the yourta is very ingenious, and is the result of centuries of experimenting. they require no guy-ropes to keep them erect, but the frame-work of poles is so constructed and so braced on the inside that they resist the most violent wind. after the poles are lashed in place by the women the deerhides are fastened over them separately, not sewed together; for this would make it difficult to move readily. at the top there is, of course, the usual exit for the smoke. the yourta that i entered was about thirty-five feet in diameter and fourteen feet high, and divided, by means of skin curtains, into eight little booths or apartments, each of which could be entirely closed, to secure privacy. these little booths are arranged around the side of the yourta, and each one is occupied by an entire family. the booths are eight feet long, five feet high, and six feet wide, and are heated only by lamps. the great fire in the center of the yourta is not primarily for heat, but for cooking purposes, all the families using it in common. the various kettles are hung over the fire by means of wooden hooks. the food is either boiled or eaten raw. they do not seem to know the use of the frying-pan. the main door of the yourta is formed by two flaps of deer skin, an inner and an outer one, which gives the effect of a storm-door. the dogs generally huddle between the two, and occasionally one of them sneaks into the yourta itself, only to be promptly kicked out. our dinner consisted of boiled deer ribs, sticks of frozen marrow, and half-digested moss, taken from the stomach of the deer. this last was cooked in seal oil, and looked much like spinach. i found some difficulty in bringing myself to eat it, but i craved vegetable food so keenly that at last i was able to overcome my repulsion, and found it not so bad after all. the reindeer, therefore, furnishes the korak with meat, clothing, shelter, and vegetable food. the dinner was served on wooden plates, and conveyed to the mouth with fingers, except that for the "spinach" they had spoons carved from the horn of the mountain-sheep. the host persisted in offering me the daintiest lumps of fat in his fingers; and i accepted them. in that far northern latitude, we all craved fat or any kind of oil. the women did not eat with us. the host and i sat in one of the little booths, while the women remained outside by the fire. the children, however, could not resist the temptation to "peek," and they lay on the ground, looking up from below the edge of the skin partitions, like a row of detached heads, with the eyes blinking solemnly at me. [illustration: reindeer, herders in background.] after we had eaten, i made them all happy by sending snevaydoff out to the sledge for some tea, and some broken bits of sugar. the host brought out the family treasures, the gaudy cups which i have heretofore mentioned. the women licked the saucers, and wiped them with moss, after which tea was served. strange is the effect of environment; a year previous, no inducement could have made me use those cups after seeing them cleansed in that fashion. was i, after all, a savage, and civilization but a thin veneer? i found myself at times looking at life from the standpoint of these people. i was thinking, dreaming, and talking in my sleep in my polyglot language. at times i would talk to myself in english, just to enjoy the sound of it. i had with me no books, except a bible, which was in my valise, but the print was too fine to read, except with a good light. action was my only salvation. had i been compelled to stay in one place i should have feared for my reason. after two or three cups, every one perspired freely, and off came one garment after another, until the men were entirely naked, and the women were naked to the waist. when we had imbibed ten or a dozen cups, the kettle was replenished with hot water, and handed out to those in the main part of the yourta. i gave each one a lump of sugar to make him happy, and then, leaning back among the skins, lighted my pipe, and had a long talk with my host, during the course of which i elicited much curious information. at bedtime, two of the smaller children were put in tiny cradles, swung from the top of the yourta. the compartment in which i slept held eight people that night. the lamp was left burning all night, for the sake of its warmth. as far as i could discover, there was an utter lack of ventilation. when i crawled out of that noisome hole the next morning, i found that the dogs were very uneasy; they scratched the snow continually with their hind feet. this was a sure sign that one of the dreaded storms--a porgo--was coming. as i had experienced one of them, i had no wish to be caught out in another, so i determined to wait where i was till it blew over. by ten o'clock it was raging, and for three mortal days there was no stirring from that village. just before the storm came on i secured some photographs of the reindeer. they were very tame indeed, and would come up to me and smell of my garments, and would even lick them, hoping to get some salt. i had to carry a short stick to keep them from pressing too close upon me. i walked in among the herd, which numbered about ten thousand, and watched them eat. they would paw away the snow until they reached the moss, which lay about ten inches below the surface, and then, kneeling down, would dig it out with their teeth. the moss is about ten inches thick, and is a loose, spongy mass of vegetation. it will not bear the weight of a man, the foot sinking through it. it forms a most excellent food for deer, but horses will not eat it. the tunguse deer, which is larger than the korak, eats only moss, but the korak deer will eat either moss or grass. these nomads have regular roads to and from the coast, and generation after generation they follow the same old beaten tracks. in december, they are farthest from the sea. once in two, three, or four weeks, according to the supply of moss and the size of the herd, they break camp and move off on the trail. late in december they turn, and gradually work their way back, so that by the time that june and the mosquitos have arrived they are near the sea. the deer eagerly lick the salt from the rocks, and even drink the sea water. they stay on the coast until late in august, when the frosts kill off the mosquitos, and then they move off inland for another winter. in summer, the deer grow very poor and weak, for they find little moss near the coast. all along the shores of bering sea thousands of deer can be counted every summer. a few years ago, when the united states government wished to secure some reindeer herds for alaska, they sent all the way to lapland, and imported the deer at enormous expense, took them across the american continent by rail, and shipped them by steamer to alaska. by the time they arrived, those that had not died must have cost an enormous sum. if the government had sent a steamer a single day's run across bering sea, it could have purchased fifty thousand reindeer right on the coast at a cost of one rouble, or fifty cents, apiece. coin cannot be used in purchasing these animals, for the natives do not understand nor use our coinage, but they can be obtained by barter at the rate of one rouble's worth of tobacco a head. some rich natives might accept a few silver coins to hammer up into buttons for their children's clothes, but not as a medium of exchange. the rutting season is in july, and fights between the male deer are not uncommon. but most of the male deer are gelded, only enough being left for breeding purposes. the natives watch their herds carefully, both night and day, but without the use of dogs. the principal enemy of the deer is the great gray siberian wolf, which stands as high as a saint bernard dog. one of these wily fellows will dash into a herd, "cut out" three or four deer, and run them off into the wilderness. when a deer grows tired the wolf runs alongside, and, seizing it by the nose, brings it to the ground and despatches it. [illustration: reindeer--summer.] the koraks eat the hoofs after burning them on the fire and thus setting free the gelatin. the weapons used by the koraks, and the tunguses as well, are the modern rifles, or in default of these the regular old-fashioned muzzle-loader. they do a little trapping, but only for sport. the little boys take out the knuckle-bones from wolves' feet and set them up like ninepins, and pitch stones at them. even the grown men sometimes indulge in this sport. it is not their custom to use the reindeer under the saddle. they do not even carry a pack, as among the tunguses. even in summer the korak prefers to carry his goods on a sledge, as many as eight deer sometimes being required to draw the load. there is one physical feature which helps to determine the geographical division between the "dog" people and the "deer" people; and this is the depth of the snowfall. for instance, on the peninsula of kamchatka there are many places where the snow is so deep that the deer could not dig down to the moss in winter. all through the northwestern portion of the peninsula, however, where the land is occupied mostly by koraks, the snow is not so deep, and the keeping of deer is possible. chapter xiii habits and customs of the koraks the hour-glass houses--their curious construction--the natives prove to be both hospitable and filthy--dialects of dog koraks and deer koraks--some unpleasant habits--how they reckon time--making liquor out of mushrooms--curious marriage customs--clothes of the natives--queer notions of a deity--jealousy of the wandering koraks--thieving a virtue and childbirth a social function. when the storm was over, we harnessed the dogs and continued our journey. seven days of ideal sledging brought us to kaminaw, a korak village at the extreme northern point of the northeastern arm of the okhotsk sea, where i was to discharge my russian dog-teams, and secure others from the natives. my first view of the village was from the summit of a hill half a mile away. i saw what resembled fifty huge hour-glasses set on the plain, which, on a nearer approach, turned out to be ten or twelve feet high. as we drew near, the village came swarming out with a pack of mongrel curs at their heels; and over the edge of each hour-glass house appeared the heads of the women and children, all eager to get a glimpse of such a novel sight as a foreign face. over each house was suspended a frozen dog. these were impaled under the chin on the sharp end of a pole, and lifted high in the air. i learned later that this was a form of sacrifice to the fish god, and was intended to insure a good run of fish the next season. as i tumbled out of my sledge, i was surrounded by the filthiest lot of natives i had yet seen. their furs were old and mangy, and the hair was worn off in spots. the people were kind and pleasant, and seemed bent on shaking hands with me. i was pressed on all sides with invitations to enter one and another of the curious houses. as i stood there, debating what i should do, the chief of the village elbowed his way through the crowd, took me by the hand, and led me to the largest of the huts. in order to enter we had to go up a ladder to the height of ten feet or more. this ladder was a log of driftwood, split down the center, and provided with little holes in which to put the toes in ascending. these natives have very small feet, and i found the holes in the ladder too small to insert my toes, but i managed to scramble to the top. i was now standing on the edge of an inverted octagonal cone, made of logs lashed together, the inside or crater of the affair, which was eighteen feet across, sloping down at an angle of about fifteen degrees to the center. at that point there was a hole leading down to the interior of the house. the hole also sufficed for a chimney, and to enter the house one had to go down a ladder through the smoke. santa claus is said to come from the north, and it is evidently among this people that he originated, for here everybody enters his house by way of the chimney. [illustration: upper view of underground hut--home of the dog korak.] this flaring line of logs protects the opening of the house from being covered up with drifting snow. this is the main reason for building in this fashion. moreover, the high scaffolding thus provided is an excellent storehouse, upon which all sorts of things can be placed without fear of molestation from wild animals. i saw here a miscellaneous collection of implements, dog-harness, oars, fishing-tackle, and firewood. i followed the chief down the ladder through the smoke. the hole was two feet wide and three feet long. i found myself in a semi-subterranean apartment, thirty feet in diameter and fifteen feet high. as we stood on the floor, our heads were about level with the general surface of the ground. the frame was strongly built of timbers, evidently driftwood; but everything was black with age and smoke. i found it so warm that i had to remove my furs. the room was very dimly illuminated with what little light filtered through the hole in the roof; and even this was partially obscured by the smoke that was always passing up and out. as soon as my eyes became accustomed to the perpetual twilight of the place, i perceived that around the apartment ran a raised wooden platform, one foot high and six broad, on which lay piles of deerskins. the women were busy clearing off a place for me, shaking out the skins and choosing the best ones for my accommodation. with native courtesy, which had no stiffness about it, the old gentleman led me to my place, sat down beside me, and began to talk. i pointed to my ears to show that i did not understand him. there seemed to be little difference between the dress of the men and the women, excepting that the wide "bloomers" of the women were made of alternate strips of black and white deerskin. their clothes were indescribably old and shabby and dirty, and their faces were anything but clean; but for all that, there were some very comely people among them. the women wore their hair in two braids, wound about the head, and fastened at the top in front. in these rooms one would naturally expect the worst in the matter of ventilation, and i was surprised to find that it was exceptionally good. they are enabled to arrange an air-shaft so that it enters the room, near the floor, on one side. the draft, made by the heat of the fire rising through the smoke-hole, causes pure air to be drawn through this ventilating shaft. in fact, there seemed to be no reason why these dwellings should not be made perfectly comfortable and sanitary. the women appeared to be very busy, and even the children were industriously making thread from the sinews that lie near the backbone of the deer. in this house i found an explosive harpoon that the natives had taken from the body of a whale. it had been fired from the deck of some whaling-vessel, and had been deeply embedded in the flesh of the animal. it bore no name. the koraks have two dialects, one of which is spoken by the dog koraks, and the other spoken by the deer koraks, but the slight variations are not marked enough to constitute a serious barrier to communication between them. all these tribes, without doubt, belong to the great turanian family, and are allied to the mongols, ostiaks, samoyeds, and other tribes of northern asia. the evidence for this is both physiological and philological. the writer before quoted says truly of these people that "their manner of living is slovenly to the last degree; they never wash their hands or face, nor cut their nails; everything about them smells of fish; they never comb their heads, but both men and women plait their hair in two braids; when any hair starts out they sew it in with threads to make it lie close; and, as a result, they have such a quantity of lice that they can scrape them off by handfuls." time seems not to have weaned them from these disgusting habits. these people reckon ten months to the year, not by reference to the changes of the moon, but by the order of special occurrences which take place each year, with sufficient regularity for the purpose. the months in their order are: purifier of sins, breaker of hatchets, beginning of heat, time of the long day, preparing month, red-fish month, white-fish month, kaiko fish month, great white-fish month, and leaf-falling month. others name them as follows: river-freezing month, hunting month, purifier of sins, breaker of hatchets, long day month, sea beavers' puppying month, sea calves' puppying month, tame deer foaling month, wild deer foaling month, beginning of fishing. a peculiar custom sometimes to be noted among these people is that of drinking a kind of liquor made from a large species of mushroom. the effect is, in some respects, similar to that produced by the use of hashish. at first the imbiber shakes as with the ague; and presently he begins to rave as if in delirium. some jump and dance and sing, while others cry out as if in agony. a small hole looks to them like a bottomless pit, and a pool of water as broad as the sea. these effects are produced only when the beverage is used to excess; a small quantity has much the same effect as a moderate amount of alcoholic liquor. curiously enough, after recovering from one of these debauches, they claim that all the antics performed were by command of the mushroom. the use of it is not unattended with danger, for unless a man is well looked after he is likely to destroy himself. the koraks sometimes take this drug in order to work themselves up to the point of murdering an enemy. three or four of the mushrooms is a moderate dose, but when one wants to get the full effect one takes ten or twelve. [illustration: chinese pump.] when a native resolves to marry he looks out for a bride, not in his own village, but in a neighboring one. when he finds a girl who pleases him, he tells her parents that he is desirous of serving them, and, during this period of probation, he works most industriously in order to make a good impression. at last he asks permission to steal the girl. if his suit is looked upon with disfavor, he is paid for the service he has rendered and sent away, but if he is acceptable to the girl and to her parents and relatives, the permission is given. he then seeks an opportunity of finding the girl alone, which is no easy matter, for she is supposed to be guarded by the women of the village. besides, the girl is covered with two or three coats, and is wrapped about with fish-nets and straps, so that motion is almost impossible. if the young man succeeds in finding her alone, or in company with only one or two women, he seizes her and begins tearing off her garments, for this constitutes the ceremony of marriage. but this is not an easy thing to do; for, though the girl herself makes little resistance, such other women as are about fall upon the would-be groom without mercy, and beat and scratch him and use every means to prevent him from accomplishing his purpose. if, however, he is successful in tearing off her garments, he immediately walks away from her, whereupon she gently calls him back, and the ceremony is complete. it seldom happens that the young man succeeds the first time, and instances are known where a man has tried for several years to secure his bride, without success. when successful, the groom carries off his bride to his own village without any ceremony; but after some time they return to the bride's home, and a marriage-feast is celebrated, somewhat after the following manner: the bridal party, including the bridegroom's friends, approach to within a hundred paces of the village from which the bride has been taken. they sing and go through certain mystic rites with a fish's head wrapped in tow and carried by an old woman. a coat of sheepskin is put on the bride, and several images are hung about her till she can hardly bear up under the load. a boy of the village comes out and leads the bride in by the hand. when she comes to the hut of her parents, a strap is tied around her, and by this she is let down into the underground house. the fish-head is laid on the floor at the foot of the ladder, and the bride and all who follow step on it, after which it is thrown into the fire. the bride is stripped of all her superfluous ornaments, and the company take their places about the room. the bridegroom builds a fire and prepares the food, which had been brought for the purpose, and entertains the people of the village. the next day, the host entertains the visiting company, after which every one goes home, except the bride and groom, who remain to serve her father for a time. the dress of the men differs but slightly from that of the women. both wear the same kind of upper garment, with the skirts either cut off an equal length all around, or with the back part longer than the front. the women have an under garment which they usually wear at home. it consists of a combination of trousers and waistcoat, the trousers being tied about the leg below the knee, and the waistcoat being tied with a cord. as might be supposed, the covering for feet and ankles is a most important matter in this far northern country. in the summer-time, when the ground is generally one wide marsh, they wear the skins of seals, with the hair turned out, but often make their leggings of the skin of reindeer legs. the very finest foot-wear is made with the sole of white sealskin, and the upper of fine dyed leather from the hind quarters of a white dogskin. the part that incases the calf of the leg is made of dressed leather or dyed sealskin. the tops are always richly embroidered with silk thread. if a young man is adorned with these shoes, immediately it is concluded that he is in search of a wife. since the complete conquest of these parts by the russians war has been practically unknown, but during the process of conquest the natives made a stubborn resistance. they never fought in the open, but always by stratagem. a company of cossacks, arriving at a village, would be hospitably received, the tribute would be paid, and large presents made in addition; but when all suspicion had been lulled to rest the cossacks were likely to wake in the night to find themselves in the midst of flames. if any one succeeded in breaking through the flames, a worse fate awaited him; for then he was slowly tortured to death by burning, or cut to pieces and disemboweled while yet alive. if the natives were in strong force, upon hearing of the approach of the cossacks they would retire to some high place, which they would strongly fortify and hold as best they could against the invaders. if unable to hold their position, they would first cut the throats of the women and children, and then throw themselves over a precipice, or rush upon the enemy to be ruthlessly cut down. these people have indistinct notions about a deity, but they render him no homage. on the contrary, they treat his name with the utmost irreverence, and relate stories about him that rival the scandals of olympus. they blame him for making so many steep hills, so many rapid rivers, and for sending so many storms. sometimes they raise a pillar in the plain and bind it around with rags, and whenever they pass, throw at it pieces of fish or other food. but it is noted that they give nothing that they can use themselves--only the tails of fish or other refuse. besides these pillars, there are other places that they reckon sacred, such as smoking mountains, hot springs, and certain forests, all of which they imagine to be inhabited by devils, whom they fear much more than the gods. a russian who lived for a long time among these people says of them: all their beliefs concerning both gods and devils are certainly very simple and ridiculous; however, it shows that they endeavor to account for the existence of everything as far as they are able; and some of them try to penetrate into the thoughts even of the birds and fishes. but when once a belief is established they never trouble themselves with inquiring whether the thing be possible or not. hence their religion depends entirely upon ancient tradition, which they believe without questioning. they have no notion of a supreme being that influences their happiness or misery, but hold that every man's good or bad fortune depends upon himself. the world, they believe, is eternal, the soul immortal, and that it shall again be joined to the body and live eternally, subject to the same fatigues and troubles as in this present life, with this difference only: that they shall have a greater abundance of all the necessaries of life. even the smallest animals, they believe, will rise again and dwell under the earth. they think the earth is flat, and that under it there is a firmament like ours; and under that firmament another earth like ours; in which when we have summer they have winter, and when we have winter they have summer. with regard to future rewards and punishments they believe that in the other world the rich will be poor and the poor will be rich. their notions of vice and virtue are as extraordinary as those they entertain of god. they believe everything lawful that procures them the satisfaction of their wishes and passions, and think that only is sinful from which they apprehend danger or ruin; so that they reckon neither murder, suicide, or adultery, oppression, nor the like any wickedness: on the contrary, they look upon it as a mortal sin to save any one that is drowning, because, according to their notions, whoever saves such an one will soon be drowned himself. they reckon it likewise a sin to bathe in or to drink hot water, or to go up to the burning mountains. they worship several animals from which they apprehend danger. they offer fire at the holes of sables and foxes; when fishing they entreat the whales or sea-horses not to overturn their boats; and in hunting they beseech the bears and wolves not to hurt them. the wandering koraks are extremely jealous, and sometimes kill their wives upon the merest suspicion. adultery is punished by the death of both parties. this extreme jealousy on the part of husbands accounts for the fact that the women take no care of their persons, and are always dirty and repulsive. they say that their husbands believe that any attempt at personal adornment would be a sign that they were wavering in their affections, for their husbands can love them without any such adornment. with the koraks who live in the "hour-glass" houses the case is reversed, for they are extremely careless of the virtue of their wives and daughters; so much so, that frequently they lend either the one or the other to their guests or special friends. a refusal of this civility they consider the greatest affront. among all these tribes, except the kamchadales, theft is considered reputable so long as one does not steal from people of his own tribe. when discovered, theft is punished severely, but only because the thief was not clever enough to escape detection. a tchuktche girl may not marry until she has proved her dexterity in this line. murder is not looked upon as particularly heinous, unless one kills a fellow-tribesman. in that case the relatives of the dead avenge the crime. consanguineous marriages are extremely common. a man often takes a cousin, an aunt, or even a mother-in-law as his wife. in fact, any relative except his mother or daughter may become his wife. as soon as a child is born they set aside for it a number of reindeer, but the child cannot claim them till he has reached maturity. in naming a child, they often go through a certain formality. having set up two sticks, they tie a string across the top, and from the middle hang a stone. then they repeat the names of the child's relatives, and, during the course of this recital, should the stone appear to shake or move, the name spoken at that moment is given to the child. without doubt the most curious custom among these people is that childbirth is a public function, and the whole village may assemble to witness the event. the dead are commonly burned. the corpse is dressed in his finest clothes, and drawn to the place of cremation by his favorite deer. a great pile of wood is fired, and into the flames are thrown the dead man's arms and some of his household utensils. after this the deer are killed, and they, together with the man's body, are thrown upon the fire. a year later they bring to the place of cremation two young deer and a large number of deer horns, and, burying the latter, they make a pretense of sending a herd of deer to the dead man for his use in the nether world. chapter xiv off for bering sea--the tchuktches the tchuktches are the apaches of siberia--their hospitality to americans and their hostility to russians--wherein my experiences differ from those of mr. harry dewindt--result of licking a piece of stone with the thermometer at ° below zero--konikly--power of moral suasion in dealing with a rebellious korak--the cure of a dying woman and the disgust of her husband--poll-tax and the tchuktches. immediately upon our arrival at the village of kaminaw i began looking about for dog-teams to take me on the long trip around by the shore of bering sea. i found it very difficult to get good dogs there, but after four days of patient search i secured two strong young natives, each with a team of twelve dogs. i contracted with them to accompany me all the way from that point, a distance of over fifteen hundred miles, for fifty pounds of tobacco and twenty pounds of sugar, all of which i paid in advance. thus equipped i left kaminaw, and pushed toward the northeast, following the line of mountains, and examining the rivers and creeks, the cañons and the gulches for the precious metal. we generally found korak villages in which to lodge, but we suffered greatly with the excessive cold. not infrequently we had to go without any fire at all, and at such times we found raw meat preferable to empty stomachs. the next few weeks we worked our way toward the coast, one day succeeding another in the monotonous iteration of camping and breaking camp, and digging down into bed-rock in a fruitless search for paying gold. as we approached the coast for the first time, we fell in with members of the tchuktche tribe. this name is generally spelled tchou-tchour, but i found the name invariably pronounced t'chuk-tche, the apostrophe signifying that the initial t is pronounced separately. these people are generally supposed to be a rather ugly lot, and the russians have never been able to subdue them as they have the other siberian tribes. they are the apaches of siberia, and when attacked they retire to their mountain fastnesses, where it is next to impossible to reach them. they are purely nomadic, and subsist solely upon their immense herds of reindeer. they are much taller and broader in the shoulder than is characteristic of any of the other tribes that i have seen. many of them stand five feet and eleven inches. the women, too, are tall and well-formed. i had been warned by the russian authorities at ghijiga to be on my guard when i fell in with these fierce people, but i found the warning entirely unnecessary. they had a clear knowledge of the difference between a russian and an american. their preference for the american lies in the fact that the russians have tried to make them pay tribute, and have carried on a desultory war with them for fifty years, while the american whalers bring them articles of trade of which they stand in need. they took the greatest interest in me, and did everything in their power to make me comfortable. in their sledges they would take me on long drives up the water-courses to look for gold, and in countless other ways showed their good will. they were the only people in siberia with whom we could not bargain for meat or transport. they simply would not listen to my offers of pay, and it was only with difficulty that i could get them to take presents of tobacco or tea. they smilingly told me that i had better keep all those things till i went south into kamchatka, "where all the people are thieves." i felt so safe among the tchuktches that never once did i take my guns from the pack and bring them into the tent with me. one instance will illustrate the manner in which these good people treated me. at one point i had to take a three-days' trip over the mountains. it required twenty-five reindeer and five drivers. the village chief insisted on carrying my baggage, leaving my dog-teams to come on behind, unloaded. for this service i succeeded in making him take twenty cartridges. [illustration: one of the tchuktches--an unconquered race.] mr. harry dewindt crossed over from the american side, and reported later that he had been captured by the natives, and, after undergoing great hardships, was rescued by a man-of-war. in view of my experiences among this people it is very difficult to understand the treatment that mr. dewindt received. i traveled all along the coast to the same places visited by him, and was always treated as an honored guest by the natives. on the whole, they are the finest race of savages that it has ever been my lot to meet. the trip had been barren of results, as far as gold was concerned. not long after leaving kaminaw i struck a sandstone formation, and lost all traces of the yellow metal. and now i was approaching the coast, though i had not as yet caught sight of it. on the eighth of march we reached the foot of a range, and one of the koraks, pointing to a distant summit, said that from that point we would be able to see the ocean. with renewed courage we pushed on. each of the dogs wore on his feet soft deerskin moccasins, and the teams were being very carefully handled, for they were sadly worn by the long journey. they now needed constant urging. we no longer rode on the sledges, but walked beside them, pulling on the bow to relieve the dogs. when the hills were too steep, we had to double up the teams and make two trips, which lengthened the journey materially. during this period i was compelled to keep my beard trimmed close to my face, because i found, by hard experience, that my mustache would freeze down to my beard in such fashion that i had a mass of ice depending from my face, which had frequently to be cut away with a knife. in ordinary cold weather a beard is a protection from the cold, but under those circumstances i found that it added greatly to my discomfort. natives will pay more for short-haired dogs, for, in the case of the long-haired dog, the moist breath, as it flows back from his nostrils, soon covers him with a mass of icicles. with the short-haired dog this is impossible. one day, shortly before we reached the coast, we camped at noon, and, about half a mile away, i saw a peculiar outcrop of white rock. thinking that it might be worth prospecting, i put on my snow-shoes and walked over to it, while the men were getting dinner ready. the thermometer stood at forty-five below zero. i found that there was only a soda-like incrustation on the rock. and then, without thinking of the after effects, i took up a piece, about two pounds in weight, and put it to my mouth to taste it. of course my tongue stuck to it, and an excruciating pain shot through that organ. i had taken a generous lick, and the whole surface of my tongue was fastened firmly to the stone. i managed to get back to the camp, still holding the stone to my face. for a moment, the men gazed at me in wonder; then one of them hurried to bring a kettle of warm water, which he attempted to dash in my face, but it did not reach the right spot. for what he next did i shall be grateful always. he took a large mouthful of the warm water, and then, with careful aim, squirted it between the stone and my face, and we soon had the encumbrance removed. with it came away a piece of the skin of my tongue, as large as a silver quarter. this escapade was wholly inexcusable, as i had already had sad experience in handling naked guns with bare, moist hands, and all my weapons were wrapped in buckskin, with only the sights exposed. our teams were now so exhausted that several of the dogs dropped out entirely, to crawl along after us as best they might. looking back, from time to time, i could see them trying desperately to keep up, for they seemed to know that their only chance of life was to reach the camp before night, to get some of the dog-food, which was running very low. they were quite useless in the collar, for they not only did not draw, but held back the other dogs who were able to pull. i had started with fourteen good, strong animals, but now was reduced to eight; and even these looked like skeletons. however, these eight were game to the backbone, and would pull till they fell dead in the harness. "old red," still my right-hand dog, would occasionally look over his shoulder with pitiful eyes when i called, "hyuk, hyuk!" and then he would put down his head and strain at his collar, while his breath came in coughing gasps. the ravens followed us for the last five days, seeming to know that if the dogs gave out they would have a feast. as for us men, we were in no danger, for we could easily have walked to the coast. at last, one memorable day, we dragged ourselves to that last summit, and there, before us, were the waters of the sea, stretching out far to the east, with the pack-ice extending fifteen miles out from the shore. below us, ten miles away, we could see the black dots that stood for the "hour-glass" huts, where we knew there was warmth, food, and rest for ourselves and our dogs. since that day i have been able to sympathize keenly with xenophon and his ten thousand, when they caught sight of the waters of the euxine, and raised that glad shout of "thalassa, thalassa!" [illustration: summit of kamchatka--first sight of bering sea.] though the dogs were very weak and worn, we went in with a rush, as usual. but the moment we stopped, the poor fellows dropped in their tracks and went to sleep, without a thought of food. their utter exhaustion was due to the fact that for the last ten days we had been crossing a stretch of uninhabited country, and it had been impossible to secure for them the necessary amount of food. we were much relieved to find ourselves once more in "civilization," and we were in no hurry to move on. the people received us so hospitably, and with such genuine kindness, that we spent a week with them, resting and getting the dogs into condition again. every day we were regaled with frozen fish, dried fish, dainty bits of walrus blubber, and frozen blueberries. some of the people of this tribe have curly hair, a thing that i had not seen before in siberia. they speak with one of those peculiar "clicks" that are so baffling to the western tongue, and which i had always supposed were confined to the languages of africa. the village was composed of a mixed race in whose veins was mingled tchuktche, korak, and kamchatkan blood, in about equal proportions. on our second day there i was glad to see the dogs that had dropped behind dragging themselves in. they were tied up in their old places, and fed generously on seal blubber and hot fish-soup, which might be called a kind of fish and oil chowder. they were all suffering badly from the need of fatty foods, and it was interesting to see the avidity with which they would bolt huge pieces of clear blubber. at the end of our week of rest, they were all fat again, their feet were healed up, and they were eager for the road once more. some of the dogs that had shown less endurance than the others were traded off and better ones secured. the best medium of exchange seemed to be the little skeins of sewing-silk which i had been careful to bring. skeins that were bought in vladivostok for two and a half cents apiece readily brought a dollar here. i would have sold it cheaper, but they pushed the price of the dogs up from five dollars to twenty, and i was obliged to follow suit. the silk was in all the colors of the rainbow; it was a study to see the faces of these natives as they devoured the gaudy stuff with their eyes, especially the women. they use the silk to embroider the bottoms of their fur cloaks, some of which are true works of art. traders have been known to pay as high as two hundred dollars for a single coat. the amount of needlework on them is simply enormous. sometimes they cut out little pieces of skin a quarter of an inch square, of all colors and shades, and make a genuine mosaic of them, and around the bottom of each garment is a wide fringe of silk. the natives laughed at the prices that i asked, and good-naturedly expostulated with me, saying that they could get the same thing in ghijiga much cheaper; to which i laughingly answered that they were at liberty to go and get it. whenever i left a house, i presented the women each with a few needles, which in that country is a very substantial tip. this village was not composed of pure tchuktches, and these mongrel people are looked down upon by the clean tchuktche stock, who frequently raid them and carry off their best-looking women. it was now my purpose to turn south along the coast, and examine the beach sands and the rivers running into bering sea, as far down as the neck of the kamchatkan peninsula, or baron koff bay. as i was still in a sandstone country, there seemed little likelihood of finding gold in the beach sands, and unless the geologic formation changed as i went south, i should push right on without stopping, except to rest. bidding good-by to the friends who had treated us so kindly, we set out one morning, on our way southward, keeping to the smooth snow just above the beach line. once, and only once, i tried to shorten the journey by crossing an arm of the sea on the ice. here i had my first taste of what it must be like to attempt to reach the pole across the frozen sea. not once could i go fifty feet in a straight line. it was an unspeakable jumble of hummocks and crevasses. we covered eight arduous miles that day, and the dogs were so exhausted that we had to stop two days to recuperate. time and again, that miserable day, i got into the water up to my waist, which necessitated an immediate change of clothes. about once an hour the dogs would fall into the water and have to be hauled out, after which a tedious detour would be made to find a more likely route across the wilderness of ice. the sixth day out we reached baron koff bay. it is a long, narrow inlet lying southeast and northwest; and at its head i found the little korak village where it was decided that i should secure a guide to take me to the sulphur deposits, which were supposed to exist in an extinct volcano in the vicinity. these people were of the same mixed blood as those of the village i had so lately left, but they did not live in the hour-glass houses. they simply had the underground room, with a hole leading down into it. the one i entered was fifteen feet wide by ten in height. [illustration: kassegan, half-caste russian trader, and korak wife, living at boeta, baron koff bay, kamchatka.] in this village seal-catching is the principal pursuit. the seal is such an important animal to these people that they go through a peculiar ceremony every year in its honor--a ceremony that is characteristically childish and built upon superstitions. near this point is an immense deposit of coal which had been discovered by a russian man-of-war some twenty years before. the coal is of poor quality, but could be used for steaming if necessary. the coal-measures come right down to the water's edge. in the cliff beside the water i found three veins of coal, with an aggregate thickness of eighty feet. this was a "dog" village, as distinguished from a "deer" village, and it was amusing to see half a dozen dogs lying about each of the entrance-holes of their underground houses, with their heads hanging over the edge, so that they could better appreciate the smell of food that rose with the smoke of the fire below. of course i was always on the lookout for good dogs, and while i was in this village i came upon the finest specimen of a siberian sledge-dog that it was ever my fortune to see. he was tawny or light-brown in color, with a splendid head, back, and shoulders. clean-limbed, muscular, and straight-eared, his tail curved up over his back in the most approved style. he whipped our best dog in less than a minute. his name was konikly, meaning "one of two," and his stuffed skin can be seen to-day in the american museum of natural history. i presented him to the jessup expedition, in charge of which was mr. buxton, whom i afterward met in vladivostok on his way to the north. i tried to obtain this dog, but found, to my chagrin, that he had been marked for sacrifice, and could not be bought. after bidding in vain up to fifty dollars in tea, sugar, and silk, i came to the sad conclusion that the animal was not on the market. but snevaydoff, my right-hand man, said to me in russian, "there is a better way. we must simply take him and leave behind sufficient compensation." this, of course, i hesitated to do until i found that the natives would gladly sell him, but did not dare to do so, for fear of angering the deity to whom he had been vowed in sacrifice. if, however, we took the dog by force they would not be to blame, and could demand the price as compensation. so i left the matter with snevaydoff to arrange as diplomatically as he could. we waited a day or so for a korak named myela, who was to guide us to the sulphur deposits, and when he arrived we made ready to start the next morning. everything was loaded the night before, and some time in the night my korak drivers hitched up the dogs, taking konikly with them, and drove out of the village. when morning came, the owner of the dogs seemed much surprised to find that his dog was missing, and he very naturally surmised that my men had taken him. he demanded that i should pay for the stolen animal. of course i protested, but in the end paid the full price, and then every one was happy and satisfied. after these ethical gymnastics, we drove out of the village, and made our way southward to the mouth of a river near which point the sulphur deposits were supposed to be; but i found, to my disgust, that the place was twenty miles inland, up an unnavigable river, and through a very rough country. i saw at a glance that it could never be a good mining venture, but i determined to go and examine the deposit, in order to be able to give a thorough report of the case. that night we arrived at myela's home, which was an isolated house or hole in the ground. for the last twelve miles we had been gradually ascending the valley, and the next morning we saw, eight miles away, the extinct crater in which the sulphur lay. we unloaded the sledges, and, taking only our picks and shovels, found ourselves, two hours later, on the summit of the volcano. the crater was partly filled with snow, but on one side, where it had been wind-swept, it was not deep. we carefully descended the steep side of the crater until myela stopped us, and said, "dig here." after going down through six feet of snow to the ground i found it strewn with detached boulders, covered with a thin film of sulphur, evidently a late solfataric deposit from the crater which had been lately active, and the indications did not promise large quantities; but even if the deposit proved to be rich, i could see very well that mining it would never pay. the distance from the coast, the roughness of the country, and the complete absence of timber made it out of the question. a careful examination of the place was, therefore, unnecessary. i was then ready to start for cape memaitch, on the western coast of the peninsula, but i perceived that if i went all the way back to baron koff bay to make a new start, considerable time would be lost. one of my koraks was tired of the trip, and insisted on going back home by the shortest route, rather than by way of cape memaitch. he absolutely refused to cross the range of mountains, as the spring sun was now beating down on the snow, and he feared that, at any time, we would be engulfed in an avalanche. i had already learned that this route would not be really dangerous till three weeks later, and that if we pushed right through we should be quite safe. so on the morning of starting i sent off the other korak with one of the sledges, and then turned to the unwilling one and asked whether he would go with me over the mountains. he still said no. i drew my revolver, and told him that his only chance of seeing home again was to hitch those dogs up instantly and obey me to the letter. he stood for a moment looking into that compelling muzzle, and then turned, sullenly, and began harnessing up. i had no more trouble with him after that. [illustration: in crater of extinct volcano, digging for sulphur. baron koff bay, kamchatka.] two reindeer sledges were engaged to show us the way across the mountains, and to break the track wherever necessary. they started a mile in advance, so as to keep out of sight of the dogs. it was easy work to follow, for it was simply an all-day chase for the dogs; each one had his nose to the ground, and was fondly imagining that he would soon enjoy the unparalleled delight of jumping at a reindeer's throat. myela led us before night to a korak village of three yourtas. as we approached it i saw a crowd huddled about something on the ground. it proved to be a middle-aged woman, lying on a deerskin, and she seemed to be dying. i asked why they did not take her inside, and was told that she had asked to be brought out. i studied her symptoms, and decided that she was suffering from the grippe, and that her case demanded heroic treatment. she had not slept for three nights, so i gave her twenty grains of quinine, two cathartic pills, and one-tenth grain of morphine. she woke up the next morning with her eyes brighter, and feeling better in every way. i gave her ten more grains of quinine, and that afternoon she sat up, and dipped her hand into the dish of meat and "spinach," and ate her full share. i thought her cure was something of a triumph, for when i saw her she seemed to be _in articulo mortis_. as i was about to leave, the husband of this woman, a man of many reindeer, asked me if i had not forgotten something, and intimated that i had not paid for the meat that my dogs had eaten. i asked him if he did not think that my curing of his wife was compensation enough; nevertheless, i paid him his full price and departed. my korak men told me later that the old fellow was angry because i had saved the woman, as he had already picked out a young and pretty girl to be her successor. alas! i had unwittingly come between man and wife, and had wrecked (at least his) domestic bliss. on the whole, i am not sure but that it would have been kinder to have let her die. our way led up a succession of cañons, and then over high mesas until we reached the summit of the range. as we were passing up through these cañons, we frequently ran under the edges of enormous overhanging drifts, and i looked up anxiously, but nothing fell except a little light snow and a few small pebbles. after passing the summit i determined to take no chances at all, and so restricted traveling to the night-time, when, of course, everything was frozen stiff. it was now well into april, and the sun was climbing up into the heavens at noon. the surface of the snow grew a little too soft to make day travel quite comfortable. on this side of the mountains i found considerable float coal, especially in the beds of the creeks. the whole country was a sandstone formation, which, of course, meant no gold. at last, far in the distance, we saw the blue waters of the okhotsk sea flashing under the rays of the western sun, and we came down rapidly to the shore. i saw below us a few of the hour-glass huts, and at the mouth of a shallow stream a long promontory running far out into the sea. this was cape memaitch,--whither i was bound because the russians had heard reports of a united states schooner touching at this point and taking away full cargoes of ore to san francisco. the first question i asked was whether or not it was true that such a vessel had actually stopped there, and was answered in the affirmative. a villager offered to guide me to the spot from which the ore had been taken. i was naturally elated, for there was now a prospect of finding something that would benefit my employers. the next morning we started out along the shore. the guide led me to the face of a sandstone bluff, and said, "here is the place from which they took the ore." to say that i was dumfounded would be to put it mildly. when i had recovered sufficiently to fairly get my breath, i asked why this stuff had been loaded on the vessel, and the guide calmly replied that it had been done to keep the ship from turning over. it appeared that the vessel was a russian, and not an american, after all. this place had been a favorite rendezvous for traders, and the schooner had come to exchange the products of civilization for the skins offered by the natives. of course, when the vessel was unloaded it was necessary to secure ballast, and for this purpose the sandstone had been brought into requisition. i shrugged my shoulders, and tried to take it philosophically. our next move was to start on the return trip around the head of the okhotsk sea to kaminaw. we had a beautiful road over the smooth tundra. konikly was now leading with "old red," and every time we stopped, the two would fight, for the latter was very loath to share my affection with konikly, whom he considered a parvenu. [illustration: killing deer for dog food.] as we were speeding along the beaten track the koraks would break out in a wild strain of music; then snevaydoff would sing one of the russian peasant-songs, and occasionally, not to be outdone, i would give them a few bars of some such touching lyric as "a hot time," or "after the ball." thus we whiled away the long hours on the road. every few hours we changed places, letting each team lead in turn, for only the driver of the head team had any work to do. the others could even lie down and go to sleep if they wished, for the dogs drew as steadily and as patiently as mules. it seemed second nature to them. i used to sit and wonder how they could be trained to undergo such severe labor. i found out that, when only four months old, they are put into the hands of the small boys to train. they make up little teams of pups, with the mother dog, perhaps, as leader, and bring in water from the neighboring stream or drag in the firewood. by the time they are a year old they are ready to be turned over to a grown-up, who hitches up one or two of the young dogs with some steady old fellows, and it is not long before the training is complete. this method not only trains the dogs, but it teaches the boys how to handle them, so that by the time they are young men they are expert drivers. after several days of fine going we arrived at kaminaw, where i found the ghijiga magistrate, who had come on his annual collecting tour. each of the koraks pays an annual poll-tax of four and a half dollars' worth of skins. these are taken to ghijiga, and there auctioned off to the highest bidder. all these northern natives pay this tax, except the tchuktches, who refuse to pay a cent. i found the magistrate in one of the huts, reclining on several bearskins, and kindly and affable as ever. over him was arranged a sort of canopy to protect him from particles of dust or dirt that might fall from between the rafters of the building. he was dressed in his full regimentals of green and gold, with a sword at his side. he gave me a fine cup of coffee, and made me take a pound of the fragrant berry to cheer me on my way in to ghijiga. i jealously guarded it, and made the grounds do duty three or four times over till every particle of the caffein had been extracted. chapter xv a perilous summer trip the tundra in summer--crossing the swift paran river--literally billions of mosquitos--unique measures of protection against these pests--mad race down the uchingay river on a raft--lighting a fire with a pistol--narrow escape from drowning--fronyo proves to be a man of mettle--pak is caught stealing from slim supply of provisions and receives chastisement--subsisting on wild onions and half-ripe berries--help at last. after a rest of two days we started out on the home stretch toward ghijiga, which lay three hundred miles to the southwest. as the snow was now very soft the wooden runners of our sledges were useless. the wet snow stuck to them, and made progress almost impossible. we therefore purchased sets of whalebone runners, cut from the ribs of the whale, and pared down to a quarter of an inch in thickness. these strips are pinned to the sledge runners, one piece overlapping another, and the joints worked down smooth. these are as good on wet snow as the iced wooden runners are on dry snow. we made the three hundred miles in four days, which was doing fairly well, considering the fact that we came back with only half the number of dogs that we started out with. it is true, however, that we had made one or two valuable acquisitions in the dog line, especially konikly, with whom i became more and more pleased. we fed the dogs on the best the land could provide, and kept them on the road from twelve to fourteen hours a day. our provisions were, of course, almost gone, and we were coming back practically as "empties." in making long trips the natives frequently have to cache a part of their provisions along the way for use on the return trip. they make a little scaffold on the stumps of trees or between two or three living trees. even though not set up very much above the snow line, the snow is so deep that by the time summer has melted it away the goods are high and dry. no one except the owner would ever think of touching these provisions. upon my return i found that the snows were fast melting, and green tints were beginning to appear on the hillsides. i thought, however, that there would be enough snow to allow me to take a little run down the peninsula that lies between the two northern arms of the okhotsk sea in search of a deposit of cinnabar of which i had heard rumors; but after two days of hard work, urging the dogs over bare tundra, i gave it up and came back in disgust. by june the snow was quite gone, except upon the highest hills and in the secluded nooks where deep drifts had lain. the river was still very high, and filled with floating ice. the sun was now visible twenty hours out of the twenty-four. [illustration: expedition on march--"konikly" in foreground.] i was soon ready for a summer trip. the services of my old friend chrisoffsky and half a dozen of his horses were secured, and, taking along my two koreans, who had wintered at ghijiga while i was making my trip to the shores of bering sea, i started out, sitting in the saddle which had been left in the village thirty years before by mr. george kennan. he was then a leading spirit in the american russian telegraph company, whose object was to build a line across bering strait and connect the two continents. of this saddle there was nothing left but the tree and a little leather on the cantle, bearing a san francisco stamp. mrs. braggin said that mr. kennan had given it to her when he left; i rigged it up with stirrups and used it all summer. plodding northward, we reached chrisoffsky's place about bedtime, soaked with mud and water. the tundra was like a great marsh, through which we had to flounder. we tried to keep to the beds of the little creeks in which the water had worn away the moss and turf. where this was not possible, we had to wade through almost bottomless mud. even though lightly loaded, the horses kept sinking to the girth, and it was only by sheer hard work that we were able to average fifteen miles a day. some days we made only five. our objective point was the uchingay, which means "red," river. it is a comparatively small stream, flowing into the paran, near its head. the natives had told me that at the head waters of this stream there were two red mountains where the rocks were filled with shiny yellow points. this place lay about three hundred miles north of ghijiga. as we neared the foot-hills the trail became better. the tundra was one mass of brilliant flowers, like the wrecks of rainbows. there were plants of almost infinite variety, and the ground was like a great expanse of variegated carpeting. but the flowers! they were indescribably beautiful. turning the shoulder of a hill, we would come upon a broad expanse of solid pink or scarlet, acres in extent, and this would give way to a blue, a yellow, or a lavender, either in solid color or in various blends. we enjoyed these beauties of nature, but, at the same time, did not fail to notice the fine beds of wild onions, which we pulled and ate with great gusto. we craved vegetables in summer as keenly as we had craved fat in winter. hardly an hour passed that we did not have a shot at a duck or a goose, and our journey was consequently a continual feast. konikly and howka accompanied us. they lived like princes on the tundra rats, which swarmed about us. the dogs caught them cleverly, and after one good shake, bolted them whole. these rodents were the size of a small house rat. [illustration: across the tundra.] on june we crossed the high pass leading into the valley of the paran river. my aneroid showed an elevation of six thousand feet. that afternoon we were greeted with a storm of sleet and snow, which drove us to the shelter of a high precipice, where we stayed close till the following day. the descent once fairly begun, we soon came into a more genial atmosphere. below us in the valley we could see the heavily wooded banks of the paran where chrisoffsky and his two sons were to leave me with my two koreans and fronyo, the tunguse guide. that night we camped on the bank of the river. we were now in the primeval wilderness and had to subsist off the land. there were fish to catch and there was game to shoot, so there was little danger of our coming to grief. we had with us some fish-nets. these were made of horsehair obtained by barter from central siberia. these nets are large enough to hold a good-sized salmon. by placing them at the mouths of little creeks, and then scaring the fish down into them, it was not difficult to secure plenty to eat. the paran, even on its upper reaches, was a formidable stream two hundred yards wide, at this season swollen by melting snows. it was imperative that we cross this river, for the uchingay flowed into it from the other side. old chrisoffsky had averred that i would never get across alive, but i had assured him that i could if there was timber near by. i had already guaranteed to pay for any horses that i might lose during the trip. when we came down to the bank of the river and saw the swift, sullen tide, the old man laughed and said, "i told you so." i knew that he would be an impediment to me, and that he would do all he could to prevent my taking the horses across, so i answered that as it was impossible to cross i would go into camp and wait for the water to go down. the old gentleman hit the trail for home the next day, carrying the tale that for once the american was beaten, and must await the pleasure of the paran river. he would have been surprised had he seen us that very night safely on the other side with our baggage and horses intact. i confess the crossing was no easy feat, but it had to be done. as the river narrowed to a gorge with dangerous rapids less than a half mile below where we stood, i went three miles up the stream, where i found a lot of dead trees, averaging some ten inches in thickness. these we felled and cut into twelve-foot lengths, and bound them together with walrus rope, and thus were provided with a good raft. the tunguse with his ax fashioned four rough sweeps, and we rigged up rowlocks by mortising uprights into the side logs of the raft. we first tried, unsuccessfully, to cross by swimming the horses behind the raft; the animals kept trying to climb upon the raft. so we put back to shore. then, making long whips, we drove the horses into the water at a point where the current set across toward the other bank. by vigorous whipping we showed the horses that they were not to be allowed to come back to the shore. they were swept off their feet, and after one or two attempts to return they seemed to understand the situation, and set out for the farther shore, which they reached after being swept about a third of a mile down-stream. then we shoved off and arrived without mishap on the other bank at almost the very spot where the horses had landed, and we found them quietly eating. it was now late in june, and the mosquitos had arrived in full force, though the flies as yet held off. the former pests were so thick that the air seemed literally filled with them as with flakes of snow in a heavy storm. the air was resonant with the deep humming sound from their wings. we all had to wear heavy gauntlet gloves tied tightly about the arm, and mosquito-hats made after a plan of my own. the summer before, i had made use of a broad felt hat with mosquito-net sewed around the rim, and with a draw-string at the bottom to fasten it at the throat; but this had proved perfectly useless because the least breath of wind would blow it against my face, and instantly a hundred mosquitos were at their deadly work. besides this the net was continually getting torn in the underbrush; consequently, i was driven by desperation to invent some better way. i had with me a small roll of fine wire screen for screening gold ore. it was "thirty-mesh" (thirty strands to the inch). the night after we crossed the river i got out this roll of screen and cut out pieces six inches wide and twelve inches long and sewed them around the front rims of our hats. i cut up a couple of flour-sacks and sewed the strong cloth all around below the wire screen and behind the hat, gathering it with a string at the bottom. finally i punched a small hole through the wire for my pipe-stem, and with this piece of armor on my head i could laugh at the mosquitos, and even succeeded in drinking tea through the screen. when we ate we were obliged to make a big smudge and sit in the smoke, and we slept in our hats and gloves. the special value of the wire screen became evident a few days later when the flies began to appear. there was one species of fly so small that it could easily penetrate the ordinary mosquito-netting, but could not possibly negotiate this wire screen. the bite of this fly feels like the prick of a red-hot needle, and two days later each bite becomes a running sore. the flies are far more to be dreaded than the mosquitos. [illustration: tundra camp.] the poor horses were simply black with mosquitos, though we helped them as much as we could by tying branches of leaves to the saddles and bridles. during the night we provided a good heavy smudge for the animals to stand in. the horses knew well its value, and would crowd together into the smoke to escape the cruel stings of their enemies. at about four o'clock each morning the cool temperature quieted the mosquitos, and the horses could get two hours of feeding. at noon, when we lunched, the horses would crowd in upon us in the smoke, and even though beaten off, would persistently return. frequently the camp was pervaded by the smell of burning hoofs and tails. the dogs suffered less, for their hair protected them, and at night they would sleep with their faces buried between their paws so that the mosquitos could not get at their vulnerable spot. having crossed the river, we followed along its eastern bank till we came to the uchingay river, and a few days later reached the head waters of this stream. we saw in the distance the two red mountains. in the stream i began to find float-rock containing iron pyrites, and i prospected carefully on all sides, but, with the exception of a few colors now and then, there was nothing of interest. when we came near the source of the stream i sunk shafts to bed-rock. after a thorough examination of the region i was forced to admit that the trip had been a failure, and prepared to retrace my steps. after two days on the return trail, we found the water of the stream fairly deep, and i determined to make a raft and float down with my tunguse guide, examining the outcroppings on either side of the stream, while the two koreans took the horses down along the bank. i estimated that i could go four times as fast as the horses, and that if i stopped frequently to examine the formations i would arrive at the crossing of the paran at about the same time as the koreans. so we all went to work and made a raft of light dry sticks, twelve feet long by about eight inches in diameter. there were twelve sticks in all, and the raft was about seven feet wide. fronyo selected three good pieces of timber and made sweeps, the extra one being for emergencies. we also had two good stout poles. all our baggage was loaded on the raft, fastened down securely, and covered with a tarpaulin. i then divided the food evenly, giving the koreans their full share, and telling them to go to the point where we had crossed the paran, and that if we did not show up within a certain time to make their way across the river and return to ghijiga without us. i gave kim the rifle and cartridges, and half the food, which amounted to a little rice, half a pound of tea, and some hard bread. i also gave him the fish-net. fronyo and i kept the shot-gun. we bade the koreans good-by, and shoved off into the stream, which was running like a mill-race. we were kept busy steering the raft clear of the rocks with which the river was strewn. as yet we used only the poles. i may as well confess right here that this trip on the raft was a fearfully hazardous undertaking, for we never knew what sort of water we had below us; so clumsy was our craft there was no chance of escape to either bank should danger loom suddenly ahead. but the hard work we had experienced in making our way through the tangled woods made us reverse the dictum of hamlet, and, rather than bear again the ills we had been through, we flew to others that we knew not of. the rush and swirl of the angry waters, the narrow escape from the ragged crest of a reef that came almost, but not quite, to the surface, and was invisible thirty feet away, the rush past steep cliffs and flowery banks, all formed such a delightful contrast to the weary plodding through the forest that we were willing to welcome almost any dangers for the sake of the exhilaration of this mad dash down the stream. the river was only about twenty yards wide at the point where we embarked upon it, but it broadened rapidly as it was fed by tributary streams from either side. now and again the current was divided by an island, and then came together far below. all went smoothly the first day, and at four o'clock we tied up to the bank and prepared to camp. but so great was our difficulty in finding any dry wood that it was bedtime before we had finished our preparations for the night. the next morning we made an early start. it was thought that we must be near the junction of the uchingay and the paran. though a drizzly, sleety day, it did not dampen our ardor--nor that of the mosquitos. i had to put on a set of oilskins which greatly hampered my movements on the raft. the river had now broadened to a hundred and fifty feet, and was indeed a mighty torrent. we tied up to the bank frequently to examine the outcroppings. we had congratulated ourselves upon the ease and rapidity of our run down-stream, when suddenly we sighted white water below and knew there was serious trouble ahead. our raft was so light that usually it would pass over any obstacles in the bed of the stream or at most scrape lightly upon them, turn around once or twice, and then float off into smooth water below. of course, if the rocks came above the surface it was an easier matter to go around them. we managed to pass through these rapids successfully, but immediately below them we saw that the stream divided into two parts, the channel to the left appearing to be the better one. we guided our raft accordingly, and soon found ourselves rushing down a gorge at railroad speed. the cañon began to "box up" in an ugly manner, and our pace became so great that we lost control of our little craft. sweeping around a bend, we saw that a great tree had been undermined by the water, and had fallen out over the stream so that two thirds of the narrow channel was completely blocked. we strove with might and main to pull the raft to one side in order to evade disaster, but she might as well have been an ocean steamer for all the effect of our futile endeavors. we swept under and among the branches of the tree, and though we hugged the raft as closely as possible, we were both brushed clean off. i seized a branch and tried to draw myself up, but the current snatched me away, and i was swept down-stream. i fought to regain the surface, but could not do it. my head was fairly bursting, when i felt the current pushing me up, and suddenly i was shot out of the water and rolled up on a wooden incline. as soon as i could collect my wits i found, to my amazement, that i was on the raft again. it had landed against a rock in a shelving position, with the lower side under the water, and the water itself had provided, in an almost miraculous manner, the means which alone could save my life. almost the first thing i saw was a hand above the water, grasping the edge of the raft, and another feeling eagerly for a place to get hold. poor fronyo was under water and evidently far gone. i thrust my arm in up to the shoulder, and got hold of his hair, and i had little difficulty in dragging him out and up on the raft. he was almost unconscious. i took him by the collar and the seat of the pants, and, by pounding his stomach on the pack, soon relieved him of the water he had swallowed. twenty minutes later i was rejoiced to see him quite himself again, although very weak. [illustration: "kim" in summer camp on tundra.] when he had sufficiently recovered, we began to think of continuing our eventful journey. the raft was firmly lodged upon the rock, and the force of the current threatened to break it up at any moment. i waded into the water on the submerged end of the raft to ease the pressure on the rock, and then, with levers, we gradually swung her about until she drifted free of the ledge and went whirling down-stream. by good luck we encountered no more obstacles, and soon shot out into open country; and, in a drenching rain, we pulled up to the bank and hastened to make preparations for getting dry. almost everything we had was soaking wet, but i remembered that among our impedimenta there was a tin box containing some matches. i rummaged around and found it, but the matches were too damp to use. we then hunted everywhere for a piece of flint, but could find none. as a last resource, i opened my medicine chest and took out a piece of absorbent cotton. then we secured some dry chips from the interior of a log of dead wood. opening three or four of my revolver cartridges, i poured out the powder on the absorbent cotton and then fired a blank shell into it. this manoeuver proved successful, and we soon had a roaring fire. we stood in the smoke and let our clothes dry while we fought the mosquitos. now and then we would make a dash out of our covert to bring wood for the fire. in a couple of hours we were dry, and, lighting our pipes, we had a good smoke. we were able to laugh, then, at the ludicrous aspect of what had been a mighty close shave. fronyo had done better than i, for he had not once loosed his hold on the raft; and yet had i not been swept off and then thrown up on the raft again, there would have been no one to tell the story. this tunguse, fronyo, was game to the backbone. when it came time to start out once more on our crazy craft, he crossed himself devoutly, and followed me without a murmur. he said that if god willed that he should die on that raft he would die, that was all. if he did not follow me wherever i went he felt that he would lose caste with his people and be shamed forever. that day i shot two sea-gulls which had come far inland to nest. they were not very savory eating, being tough and insipid. these birds usually come up into the interior in may, and, until the advent of the salmon, they have little to eat except berries. each day they make a trip down to the coast and back. all our sugar was melted, and our tea had received a preliminary steeping; but we dried it out and made it do. the fact is, we were rather badly off for food. i had only a few paper shells left, and half of these were damp. the next morning after our adventure in the gorge we cut loose from the bank, and, in an hour's time, floated out of the uchingay into the paran, which was a hundred and twenty yards wide, and carried an immense volume of water. the river was in flood, and was filled with small islands, which made it difficult to choose a route; but all went well, and at four o'clock we pulled up to the bank at the spot where we had first crossed, and where we had agreed to meet the koreans. we settled down in camp, expecting to see them on the following day. that afternoon i had the pleasure of killing a goose with a brood of little ones. after the mother goose had been killed the little ones took to a small pond, but were hunted down and killed in cold blood. it was no time to think of mere sportsmanship, as the law of self-preservation absorbed our thoughts. soon we heard the "honking" of the old male goose. fronyo took the dead goose and cleverly set it up with a stick thrust through its neck, and the other end stuck in the mud at the bottom of the shallow pond. the old gentleman goose saw his spouse sitting quietly on the water, and was just settling down near her when, not receiving any answer to his call, he grew suspicious and started to rise again. i could ill afford to waste a single cartridge, but i took the risk and fired. the old fellow came to the ground with a resounding thump. we now had over twenty pounds of good meat. of the little goslings we made a soup, adding a good quantity of wild onions; and it would have been a dish fit for a king had we possessed a little salt. but our supply had been melted. [illustration: reindeer feeding.] the next day we heard a rifle-shot in the woods. this was the signal agreed upon, and soon konikly and howka came running into camp half famished, and eagerly bolted the bones that we had thrown aside. we could not waste a cartridge on an answering shot, so fronyo went out to meet the koreans, and soon brought them into camp, and there followed an interesting interchange of experiences since we had parted company on the uchingay. i found that they had not hoarded their provisions at all, but, with true korean improvidence, had eaten up everything. for the morrow they had no thought. i took a careful inventory of stock, and found that we had two geese, a little wet rice, some tea, and hard bread. the outlook was certainly not pleasing, for it would take at least six days to get within the radius of civilization. to recross the river we used the same heavy raft that we had crossed on before, dragging it a mile up-stream before venturing to embark. the horses knew that they were on the homeward trail, and breasted the swift tide willingly. before starting out to cross the mountains on the way to ghijiga, it was imperative that we should supplement our slender stock of food, for there would be several days during which we could hope to get very little along the way. with our small fish-net i tried a little arm of the river, and succeeded in catching two fine _harritongas_, each weighing nearly three pounds. they were black on top, with a yellow belly, and supplied us with a delicious white meat. the dorsal fin extends from the neck to the tail. it is a favorite dish in russia, where it is called the _harra_. try as i might, i could catch no more. i decided that it would be necessary to send fronyo on ahead with the best horse and most of the food, with instructions to hurry to ghijiga and secure from the magistrate the necessary food, and then hasten back to our relief. i wanted certain special articles of food, and as i could not write russian, and as fronyo could not be expected to know the different kinds of foreign food, i was driven to use the primitive ideographic method. my note to the magistrate, therefore, consisted of a series of pictures, representing roughly the things that i wanted and the amount. first came a picture of a tunguse leading a pack-horse, and then the "counterfeit presentment" of a tin of beef, with the number twelve appended. then came loaves of bread, with tins of butter following, and a noble array of other edibles. to my fancy it was the most interesting procession i had ever witnessed. fronyo said that we need have no fear, for if worse came to worst, we could live on the wild onions and the inside bark of the fir-trees, which grew here and there among the mountains, while on the tundra there were plenty of tundra rats--appetizing thought! of course, if we had been in any real danger of starvation, we could have immolated the horses and dogs on the altar of epicurus, but we did not propose to do this, except as a last resort. the wild onion is considered the best cure for the scurvy, and is eaten eagerly as soon as it begins to appear in the spring. it is said, though i had no opportunity to see a case, that if scurvy is imminent and some of the wild garlic is eaten, the body breaks out in an eruption which passes away in a few days. the onion seems to expel the germs through the skin by means of this eruption. the natives strip the birchbark from the trees while it is still green, and cut it into long threads like vermicelli. on entering a village it is quite a common sight to see the women cutting up this bark for food. they ferment the juice of this birchbark and make a mild alcoholic drink. they also eat the berries of the shad-bush and the bark of the sallow, a kind of willow. these people have acquired a remarkable knowledge of the virtues of various plants. some of these tribes are accustomed to dip the points of their arrows into a decoction of a species of ranunculus, and wounds so inoculated are incurable unless the poison is immediately drawn out. even whales, if wounded with these arrows, come near the shore and expire in dreadful agony. fronyo started out at a good pace while we stayed behind to try and secure more game before hitting the trail across the mountains. we secured two more fish, and at four o'clock in the afternoon were on the road, which we kept till ten o'clock. the next morning, after half a breakfast, we pushed on up the valley through the foothills of the range that we had to cross, none of us any too cheerful, but all determined. that day i discovered some crumbs of bread in pak's beard, and investigation showed that he had been making a square meal of a large portion of our remaining small stock of bread. it may be pardoned me, under the circumstances, that i drew off and hit him a good shoulder blow in the left eye, which felled him to the ground. this proved to be an unfortunate form of punishment, for he was the korean who possessed only one good eye, and that was good no longer. my anger, righteous though it may have been, turned instantly to solicitude. i blamed myself without measure for my hasty action, went into camp and founded a hospital on the spot. for the next twenty-four hours all my energies and resources were centered on that unhappy eye. i can truly say that i have never hit anything since without first making sure that the object of my punishment had a spare eye. later on my conscience forced me to give him a silver watch and a new suit of clothes. i rather think the other korean envied him that blow when he saw the final result. to my vast relief the eye healed, and we went on. the third day saw us over the mountains and crawling across the tundra. we had thrown away all our bedding and blankets, and each was astride a horse. on the fourth day we were reduced to wild onions and half-ripe berries, which induced a violent diarrhea. we came at last to where sea-gulls were nesting, but they were so shy that we could not get near them. konikly had gone on with fronyo, but we still had howka with us, and he was getting fat on the tundra rats. it was to him, now, that we looked for food. he would make a rush at a sea-gull, and, as the bird flew from its nest on the tundra, he would begin to devour the eggs; but we would rush up and drive him off and secure the loot. the eggs were far gone, and would have been ready to hatch in another week. we boiled them, and the koreans ate the embryonic sea-gulls while i ate the albuminous substance that still remained. about this time we began to think of sacrificing one of the horses to the common good, but no one of us was strong enough to walk, and the horses were therefore spared. the dog we could not kill, for he was our chief provider. [illustration: three little half-caste russians and native nurse, ghijiga, okhotsk sea.] we plodded on until we were about two days' journey from chrisoffsky's house, when one morning i descried, far across the tundra, a line of some fifteen pack-horses and men. we spurred on gladly to meet the welcome relief. i found that half a dozen of the officers and men of the steamer which my employers had sent for me had come to hunt me up. never have i seen such a glorious sight as those well-dressed men and those loaded horses. the captain dismounted, and i tried to address him in russian, but he said, "you forget that i speak english." now, it may seem scarcely credible, and yet it is true, that for a few moments i was almost totally unable to converse with him in my native tongue. i had not used a word of it in conversation for fourteen months, and my low physical condition acting on my nerves, confused my mind, and i spoke a jumble of english, russian, and korak. it was a week before i could talk good, straight english again. we camped right where we had been met, and the packs were opened up immediately. i sat on a sack filled with potatoes, and watched them bring out coffee, then some bacon, then some fresh eggs! then the captain came with a bottle of champagne and handed me a glass. this i held in one hand, and with the other i reached down and extracted a potato, and fell to munching it raw, sipping the champagne between bites, while i watched them build a fire and prepare the food. it was a feast that i shall never forget. after it a box of good cigars was circulated, which added the final touch to my felicity. when the inner man had been satisfied, i began to think of how the outer man might be improved upon. my clothes were in rags, my weight had fallen from one hundred and sixty pounds to one hundred and fifteen, my beard was long and unkempt, my boots were in shreds. the good friends had thoughtfully brought along my steamer trunk, which now lay in one of the tents. i ordered several kettles of water heated, and stripping behind the tent, i threw the noisome rags, with all their denizens, as far into the bush as i could, and then went in and had a glorious tubbing. i got into a suit of soft flannels, scotch tweed knickerbockers and a norfolk jacket, and after shaving and grooming myself for an hour, the loathsome larva that had crawled into camp emerged from that tent a bejeweled butterfly. that delicious moment was worth almost as much as it cost. then we made our way back to ghijiga, where i distributed presents among my friends, native and foreign, and boarded the steamer for vladivostok. i reached that place twelve days later, and gave account of my travels and explorations. the search for a siberian klondike had been, so far, a failure. this is not the place for a technical account of my observations in northern siberia, but this much i may say: though there may be gold within the radius that i covered, i satisfied myself that there were no extensive auriferous deposits on the streams flowing into the okhotsk sea near its head, nor in the beach sands along the shore of bering sea, south of the anadyr river. but, of course, the whole question was not yet settled, for there remained the whole stretch of the northeast peninsula, above the point i had reached, and it turned out that my work was not yet finished. chapter xvi a ten-thousand-mile race persistent rumors of gold in the tchuktche peninsula--count unarliarsky--i am called to vladivostok to fit out an expedition--our vessel arrives off indian point--charging through the ice-floes--a meeting with eskimos--our prospecting proves fruitless--we meet the rival expedition in plover bay--their chagrin--the end. the winter following my explorations in northeast siberia i spent in the united states, during which time the papers contained frequent reports of rich finds on the siberian coast, opposite cape nome. the company that had employed me still believed that there was gold to be found in this region, and were determined to test the matter thoroughly. the papers stated that the russian government had granted to count unarliarsky the mining rights to the whole tchuktche peninsula, which is the extreme northeastern portion of siberia, between the anadyr river and the arctic ocean. from st. petersburg we learned that the count must present the papers of his franchise to the governor at anadyr before he could legitimately take possession. any claims staked out before that time would be valid, according to russian law. in order to present his papers before the governor, the count would have to wait till navigation opened up late in may, for the town of anadyr lies far up the river of that name, and is ice-locked till well into the summer. [illustration: russian miners.] i received a cablegram to hurry out to vladivostok, and make ready to start at an hour's notice. it was the intention of our company to charter a steamer for four months, and, with thirty russian miners, steam with all speed toward the north, make a hasty examination of the beaches in question, and even though there might be american miners there (who would be without government permission), we were to stake out claims and then hurry to anadyr and file our papers before the governor should have so much as heard of the existence of the count. in all this we were well within the law, and, as our company had already spent a large sum of money in the work, it was but right to use every legal means to establish a claim to at least a portion of the field. through our agent at st. petersburg we were kept informed of the movements of our rivals. our agent in san francisco was instructed to inform me, by cable, as to what steamer the count chartered, her speed and equipment. meanwhile i was busy looking up a vessel, and after great difficulty, secured the russian steamer _progress_, captain gunderson. i provisioned her for six months, filled her up with coal enough for five months' steaming, and by june everything was ready. the previous day i had received a cablegram from san francisco, stating that the rival expedition, under the management of count bogdanovitch and george d. roberts, an american mining engineer, would sail from that port on june . their speed was ten knots, and they would stop at nome and one or two other united states ports. they were in no hurry, and were entirely in ignorance of our existence. their boat was the _samoa_, a puget sound lumber vessel. we could make eleven knots an hour, and had a slightly shorter route to follow than they. furthermore, _we knew_, and they did not. we learned that at plover bay, on the russian side, they were to meet a russian gun-boat named the _yakut_, which would help to drive away any american miners who might surreptitiously have opened up claims on the siberian side. of these rumor said that there were some three thousand. at five o'clock in the afternoon of june we turned our prow seaward, but, after going a hundred yards, a bolt gave way in the engine, and we had to lay up for repairs. i chafed at the enforced delay, but the next morning we were off. before we had cleared the entrance of the long, winding bay, we ran into a heavy fog-bank, and, after feeling our way along for a while, we were obliged to drop anchor again. when the fog lifted we found that we had passed within a hundred yards of a rocky promontory, and had escaped only by good luck. it was not till the next day that we reached the open sea, and six days later we were riding at anchor in the harbor of petropaulovsk. at that point i put off four men to open up a copper vein that i had located the first time i had passed that way. after having filled our water-tanks again, we pushed toward the north. in bering sea we found it still cold and foggy, but we kept the vessel up to her eleven knots, even at the risk of suddenly encountering ice. by keeping a sharp lookout and frequently taking the temperature of the water, we lessened the danger as much as possible. some of the russian miners on board were set to work making a large united states flag, with which to decoy natives on board, for they can scarcely be induced to go on board a russian ship, because of the rough treatment they frequently receive. on june the temperature of the water suddenly dropped from forty to thirty-four degrees, which showed plainly that we were nearing ice. we slowed down, and half an hour later sighted an iceberg through the mist. as our vessel was of steel and without compartments, a very slight blow would put us _hors de combat_, so we took every precaution. there were but two life-boats for a crew of seventy men in all, many of whom would be likely to make trouble in case of accident. the ship's officers and i always had our revolvers handy for any emergency. on the th we arrived off cape chaplain, or indian point, as the americans usually call it. between us and the shore there lay a band of ice at least thirty-five miles broad. we tried to discover an opening in it, but without success. we therefore headed for st. lawrence island, which lies near bering strait and belongs to uncle sam. as soon as we had cast anchor the natives came off to see us. the men were small but stocky, and looked much like north american indians. their women are rather good-looking, but are accustomed to tattoo as soon as they reach the age of womanhood. we found that about two thirds of the tribe were suffering either from the measles or the grippe. the mountains that loomed up in the background were used as burial-places. the dead were laid there, exposed, and the dogs and wild animals soon disposed of them. the higher the rank of the dead man the higher he was placed on the mountain. dr. lorego of the presbyterian mission came off to see us, and courteously invited us ashore. it was an invitation that i gladly accepted. through him i learned from the natives they were unaware that any american miners had landed on the siberian side. [illustration: picked up on the ice off st. lawrence island.] as we were about to weigh anchor and go in search of an opening in the ice by which we could reach the asiatic shore, a steamer loomed up through the fog. she dropped anchor near us, and i found, to my delight, that she was the ex-united states cutter corwin, which, at that time, belonged to the _corwin_ trading company. on board were several american miners from nome, who were bound for indian point, where they firmly believed gold was to be found. the captain of the _corwin_ kindly offered to guide us through the ice, and, if necessary, to lend us an ice pilot. i therefore contracted with him, for five hundred dollars, to cut a channel through the ice to indian point. we learned that there is always a narrow strip of water between the ice and the shore up and down the coast at that season. as the wind was rising i hurried back to my vessel and asked our captain to make ready to follow the _corwin_, but within an hour a gale was raging, and the _corwin_ signaled us to follow her under the shelter of the island. it was a beautiful sight to see captain west of the _corwin_ handle his vessel as easily as though it were a rowboat on a lake. he had spent twenty years in the arctic seas, and knew his business thoroughly. before our anchor was fairly up he was steaming away before the gale a mile in advance. we followed him around the point of the island to a sheltered nook, and there dropped anchor to await the cessation of the storm. the next morning the day broke fine and clear. captain west affirmed that to see a perfect summer day one must go to the far north. the _corwin_ took the lead, and a five-mile run brought us to the edge of the ice-pack. there the _corwin_ slowed down, and we ran as close alongside as was safe. captain west shouted through the megaphone, "good-morning. i find the ice pretty heavy, but it is loose, and with care you will be able to follow us." he then sent to us captain coffin, an old-time whaling captain, whom he happened to have with him on the _corwin_, to act as ice pilot for our boat. captain coffin has a record of over forty years in the north seas. as i was anxious to have the experience of smashing through the ice on an icebreaker, i went aboard the _corwin_. the _progress_ followed about six lengths behind. the _corwin_ has twelve feet of solid green-heart timber in her bows, four feet of the same on the sides, and two feet aft. she is barkentine rigged, a hundred and twenty feet long, with a speed of nine knots. she is twenty-four years old, all but one of which have been spent in arctic waters. [illustration: natives at indian point, siberia.] when all is ready captain west mounts to the crow's-nest to con the ship, and captain forrest, another old whaler, is on the bridge. the wheel is in the hands of two intelligent boston sailors. captain west sings out, "one bell--starboard--steady!" and we are off. it looks as if it were going to be a ticklish business for the _progress_, with only half an inch of steel to withstand the pressure of the loose bergs, but i say to myself that with captain coffin in the crow's-nest, and the _corwin_ in the lead, it is ten to one that she comes through without even knocking the paint off. as we gather speed i hurry to the stern to see how the _progress_ is coming on. she winds her way beautifully between the bergs, in and out through the passage which we are making. some of the ice the _corwin_ can push to one side or the other, but when this is not possible she backs up in order to get good headway, and charges the obstruction, and strikes it fairly between the eyes. she comes to a dead stop, and quivers from stem to stern with the tremendous impact. a rending, grinding noise is heard, and the berg which challenged us is a berg no longer; and its fragments are brushed aside as we push our way through. captain west laughingly calls from above, "get out of the way, if you don't want to get hit." so on we go, backing and turning, and plunging and wriggling through the ice. as we were thus engaged i espied a seal, about three hundred yards off our starboard bow, and, seizing a winchester, i let drive. the captain called down, "killed; good shot." i should have done well to rest on my laurels, for though i had above forty more shots that day i did not kill anything. by six o'clock we were through the ice and in open water again, with indian point, or cape chaplain, dead ahead. almost immediately we were boarded by the natives, who called out: "hello, hello, how d'ye do?" we answered in kind. then, after a string of lurid oaths in bad english, they said: "plenty man cough--make die--you got medicine?" but to our question as to how many people there were in their village they replied: "don't know." "why, can't you count?" "no; siberia side all d--n fools." at which we were forced to smile. "say, you got chaw tobacco?" i could not remain deaf to this appeal, so i cut up a cigar and watched it go into their mouths. then, after i had taken their photograph in a group, we all went ashore, where i found a few native skin huts and one or two houses built with timber which they had obtained in trade from whalers. these were modeled after the houses that the whalers or missionaries had erected. [illustration: eskimo village, east cape--northeastern point of asia.] indian point is a long, low spit of land, and is a freak of nature, being nothing more nor less than a moraine in the sea. the great icebergs ground here and melt, dropping the stone and gravel which they have brought from some distant bay where they were born. kovarri, the old chief of the tribe, came aboard, and we interviewed him. he said there were no american miners on the siberian side. we did not believe him implicitly, but found later that he had told the truth. we succeeded in hiring a noted native pilot to show us along the coast. he was named "shoo fly," and came of very mixed parentage. these natives were all large, strong, and hearty, and were good sailors, having had experience on many united states whalers, which recruit their crews among these men before going up into the arctic sea. these fellows are splendid oarsmen, and as good as americans at chasing whales. they speak a little english, especially the bad words, and chew as much tobacco as they can lay their hands on, while as for drink, they are crazy for it. the natives just to the south of them are very different, for they have not come in contact with the whalers to so great an extent. i shipped a boat's crew of these men, and steamed north to st. lawrence bay. in the steam-launch we explored every portion of the shore of this bay, but could find no trace of gold, although this was the very spot that count unarliarsky was depending upon to make the fortune of his company. then we steamed north into bering strait. here lie the two islands, "big diomed" and "little diomed," one russian and the other american. after prospecting in vain we returned to the mainland, and rounded east cape, and found ourselves, for the first time, on the waters of the arctic ocean. we landed at a little village built on the steep slope of a high hill. it had just lost one half its population through measles and the grippe. corpses were lying about, half eaten by the dogs. a little child had a leather thong tied through the eye-holes of a skull, and was dragging it about for a cart. the child's father said he did not know whose skull it was. after the dogs had gotten through with it how was he to tell! these people live in regular eskimo huts, built of stone, in the shape of a half-sphere, and with a long tunnel for an entrance, through which they crawl on hands and knees. nothing could be more desolate than the prospect at this point. behind the village was a bleak hill. the beach was only fifty feet wide, and before it lay the grim arctic sea. there was only one thing of beauty, and that was the skin boats of the natives, which were drawn up on the beach. they were shaped like an american whale-boat, and were capable of carrying forty men. in these they follow the ice-pack, and capture seals and walruses, and occasionally a whale. a few of the natives have secured bomb-guns from the whalers. whenever a whaling-vessel completes its cargo and is ready to turn toward home, it disposes of all its whale-boats to the natives, taking, in return, whalebone, ivory, and skins. a good boat will bring one thousand dollars' worth of such goods. the condition of these natives is pitiable in the extreme. disease and filth are doing their work, and it is a wonder that any of them have survived as long as they have. the whalers sell them spirits at a small price, and, being utterly without self-control, they speedily become slaves to drink. the american government makes no effort to stop this sort of thing, and the russian government can do but little to stop it with a single little gunboat. we went as far north as the arctic circle, but, finding no gold in the beach sands nor in the float-rock in the rivers, we turned south again, and, after picking up some men whom we had left to finish prospecting st. lawrence bay, we continued south, examining the coast as we went. we looked into plover bay, with the expectation of finding the _samoa_ there; and not seeing her we steamed out, and, with the aid of the launch and the native boat crews, examined the southern part of the tchuktche peninsula. there were splendid deposits of steaming-coal, but the general geologic formation made it plain that there was no gold to be found. once more we steamed into plover bay, but the _samoa_ had not yet arrived, and we determined to wait for her. two days were spent in the pleasant occupation of hunting eider-duck and making a short trip into the interior. on the third day we heard, through the fog, the sound of a siren whistle. of course we answered, and an hour later the _samoa_ came nosing through the fog and picking her way through the light drift-ice. as soon as her anchor was down i went aboard. as i went up the gangway i saw half a dozen russians and as many americans standing in a group on the deck. i walked up to them, but before i had time to introduce myself count bogdanovitch said: "captain, i am glad to see you. you have some coal for us, i believe?" "no; i have not any for you," i said, smiling. [illustration: plover bay, siberia, in july.] "oh, you are a steam-whaler," and his face fell. "no, not a whaler," i said. "well, then, what are you here for?" he asked, curiously. "i am on the same errand as you." as soon as he comprehended he was terribly angry, and apparently wished me at the bottom of the sea. he turned on his heel and walked away, without doing me the courtesy of asking me into the cabin, although it was raining. but one of the americans stepped forward, and i was taken to their quarters, where explanations followed. i told them the situation, how that we had carefully prospected all along the coast, but had found no gold. i felt i was doing them a favor to let them know that there was no use in spending time and money in a search for gold along the siberian coast of bering sea. whether or not they believed me i cannot tell, but the next morning we weighed anchor, and left them there waiting for the arrival of the _yakut_. the search for a siberian klondike was over. * * * * * transcriber's note: text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_). small capital text has been replaced with all capitals. variations in spelling, punctuation and hyphenation have been retained except in obvious cases of typographical error. every attempt has been made to replicate the original as printed. no attempt has been made to correct or normalize the spelling of non-english words. some typographical errors have been corrected; a list follows the text. (note of etext transcriber.) memoirs of the empress catherine ii. written by herself. with a preface by a. hÉrzen. translated from the french. new york: d. appleton and company, & broadway. m.dccc.lix. preface. some hours after the death of the empress catherine, her son, the emperor paul, ordered count rostoptchine to put the seals upon her papers. he was himself present at the arrangement of these papers. among them was found the celebrated letter of alexis orloff,[ ] in which, in a cynical tone and with a drunken hand, he announced to the empress the assassination of her husband peter iii. there was also a manuscript, written entirely by the hand of catherine herself, and enclosed in a sealed envelope, bearing this inscription:--"_to his imperial highness, the cesarewitch and grand duke paul, my beloved son._" under this envelope was the manuscript of the memoirs which we now publish. the manuscript terminates abruptly towards the close of the year . it is said that there were with it some detached notes, which would have served as materials for its continuation. some persons affirm that paul threw these into the fire; but nothing certain is known upon this point. paul kept his mother's manuscript a great secret, and never entrusted it to any one but the friend of his childhood prince alexander kourakine. the prince took a copy of it. some twenty years after the death of paul, alexander tourgeneff and prince michael worontzoff obtained copies from the transcript of kourakine. the emperor nicholas having heard of this, gave orders to the secret police to seize all the copies. amongst them was one written at odessa, by the hand of the celebrated poet pouschkine. a complete stop was now put to the further circulation of the memoirs. the emperor nicholas had the original brought to him by the count d. bloudoff, read it, sealed it with the great seal of state, and ordered it to be kept in the imperial archives, among the most secret documents. to these details, which i extract from a notice communicated to me, i ought to add that the first person who spoke to me on the subject was constantine arsenieff, the preceptor of the present emperor. he told me, in , that he had obtained permission to read many secret documents relative to the events which followed the death of peter i, up to the reign of alexander i. among these documents, he was authorized to read the memoirs of catherine ii. (at that time he was teaching the modern history of russia to the grand duke, the heir presumptive.) during the crimean war, the archives were transferred to moscow. in the month of march, , the present emperor had the manuscript brought to him to read. since that period one or two copies have again circulated at moscow and st. petersburg. it is from one of these that we now publish the memoirs. as to their authenticity, there is not the least room for doubt. besides, it is only necessary to read two or three pages of the text to be quite satisfied on the point. we have abstained from all corrections of the style, in every case in which it was not evident that the copy presented some fault of transcription. passing to the memoirs themselves, what do we find? the early years of catherine ii--of that woman-emperor, who occupied for more than a quarter of a century all contemporary minds, from voltaire and frederic ii to the khan of the crimea and the chiefs of the kirghis--_her young days described by herself!_ ... what is there for the editor to add to this? in reading these pages, we behold her entering on the scene, we see her forming herself to that which she afterwards became. a frolicsome girl of fourteen, her head dressed "_à la moïse_," fair, playful, betrothed of a little idiot, the grand duke, she has already caught the disease of the winter palace--the thirst of dominion. one day, while "perched" with the grand duke upon a window-sill, and joking with him, she saw count lestocq enter: "pack up your things," he said, "you are off for germany." the young idiot seemed but little affected by the threatened separation. "it was pretty nearly a matter of indifference to me also," says the little german girl; "_but the crown of russia was not so_," adds the grand duchess. here we have, in the bud, the catherine of ! to dream of the crown, however, was quite natural in the atmosphere of that court; natural not only for the betrothed of the heir presumptive, but for every one. the groom biren, the singer rasoumowsky, the prince dolgorouky, the plebeian menchikoff, the oligarch volynski--every one was anxious for a shred of the imperial mantle. the crown of russia, after peter i, was a _res nullius_. peter i, a terrorist and reformer, before all things, had no respect for legitimacy. his absolutism sought to reach even beyond the tomb. he gave himself the right of appointing his successor, and instead of appointing him, he contented himself with ordering the assassination of his own son. after the death of peter, the nobles assembled for deliberation. menchikoff put a stop to all discussion, and proclaimed as empress his old mistress, the widow of a brave swedish dragoon, slain upon the field of battle, the widow of peter also, to whom menchikoff had resigned her "through devotion" to his master. the reign of catherine i was short. after her the crown passed from head to head as chance directed: from the once livonian tavern-keeper, to a street-boy (peter ii); from this street-boy who died of small-pox, to the duchess of courland (anne); from the duchess of courland to a princess of mecklenburg (wife of a prince of brunswick), who reigned in the name of an infant in the cradle (ivan); from this boy, born _too late_ to reign, the crown passed to the head of a woman born _too soon_--elizabeth. she it is who represents legitimacy. tradition broken, the people and the state completely separated by the reforms of peter i, _coups d'état_ and palace revolutions were the order of the day; nothing was fixed. the inhabitants of st. petersburg, when retiring at night, knew not under whose government they should awake in the morning; they consequently took but little interest in changes, which, after all, did not essentially concern any but a few german intriguers, become russian ministers, a few great nobles grown gray in perjury and crime, and the regiment of preobrajensky, which disposed of the crown like the pretorians of old. for all others, everything remained unchanged. and when i say others, i speak only of the nobles and officials; for as to the great silent people--that people prostrate, sad, stupefied, dumb--it was never thought of. the people was beyond the pale of the law, and passively accepted the terrible trial which god had sent it, caring little for the spectres which mounted with tottering steps the ascent to the throne; gliding like shadows, and disappearing in siberia, or in the dungeons. the people was sure to be pillaged in any case. its social condition therefore was beyond the reach of accident. what a strange period! the imperial throne, as we have elsewhere said,[ ] was like the bed of cleopatra. a crowd of oligarchs, of strangers, of panders, of minions, led forth nightly an unknown, a child, a german; placed the puppet on the throne, worshipped it, and, in its name, gave the knout to all who presumed to question the arrangement. scarcely had the chosen one time to become intoxicated with the delights of an exorbitant and absurd power, and to condemn his enemies to slavery or torture, when the succeeding wave raised up another pretender, and the chosen of yesterday, with all his followers, was ingulphed in the abyss. the ministers and generals of one day, were the next on their way to siberia, loaded with chains. this _bufera infernale_ carried away people with such rapidity, that there was not time to get accustomed to their faces. marshal munich, who had overturned biren, rejoined him on a raft, stopped upon the volga, himself a prisoner, with chains on his feet. it is in the struggle of these two germans, who disputed the empire of russia as if it had been a jug of beer, that we may retrace the true type of the _coups d'état_ of the good old times. the empress anne died, leaving the crown, as we have just said, to a child only a few months old, under the regency of her lover biren. the duke of courland was all-powerful. despising everything russian, he wished to civilize us with the lash. in the hope of strengthening himself, he destroyed with a cold-blooded cruelty hundreds of men, and drove into exile more than twenty thousand. marshal munich got tired of this; he was a german as well as biren, and besides a good soldier. one day, the princess of brunswick, the mother of the little emperor, complained to him of the arrogance of biren. "have you spoken on this subject to any one else?" asked the marshal. "i have not." "very well, then; keep silent, and leave everything to me." this was on the th of september, . on the th, munich dined with biren. after dinner he left his family with the regent, and retired for a moment. going quietly to the residence of the princess of brunswick, he told her to be prepared for the night, and then returned. supper came on. munich gave anecdotes of his campaigns, and of the battles he had gained. "have you made any nocturnal expeditions?" asked the count de loewenhaupt. "i have made expeditions at all hours," replied the marshal, with some annoyance. the regent, who was indisposed, and was lying on a sofa, sat up at these words, and became thoughtful. they parted friends. having reached home, munich ordered his aide-de-camp, manstein, to be ready by two o'clock. at that hour they entered a carriage, and drove straight to the winter palace. there he had the princess awakened. "what is the matter?" said the good german, anthony ulrich, of braunschweig-wolfenbüttel, to his wife. "i am not well," replied the princess.--and anthony ulrich turned over and slept like a top. while he slept, the princess drest herself, and the old warrior conferred with the most turbulent of the soldiers in the preobrajensky regiment. he represented to them the humiliating position of the princess, spoke of her future gratitude, and as he spoke, bade them load their muskets. then leaving the princess under the guard of some _forty_ grenadiers, he proceeded with _eighty_ others to arrest the chief of the state, the terrible duke of courland. they traversed without impediment the streets of st. petersburg; reached the palace of the regent; entered it; and munich sent manstein to arrest the duke in his bed-chamber, living or dead. the officers on duty, the sentinels, and the servants looked on. "had there been a single officer or soldier faithful," says manstein, in his memoirs, "we were lost." but there was not one. biren, perceiving the soldiers, endeavoured to escape by creeping under the bed. manstein had him forced out: biren defended himself. he received some blows from the butt-ends of their muskets, and was then conveyed to the guard-house. the _coup d'état_ was accomplished. but something stranger still was soon to follow. biren was detested; that might explain his fall. the new regent, on the contrary--a good and gentle creature, who gave umbrage to no one while she gave much love to the ambassador linar--was even liked a little from hatred to biren. a year passed. all was tranquil. but the court of france was dissatisfied with an austro-russian alliance which the regent had just concluded with maria theresa. how was this alliance to be prevented? nothing easier. it was only to make a _coup d'état_, and expel the regent. in this case, we have not even a marshal reverenced by the soldiers, not even a statesman. an intriguing physician, lestocq, and an intriguing ambassador, la chétardie, are sufficient to carry to the throne, elizabeth, daughter of peter i. elizabeth, absorbed in pleasures and petty intrigues, little thought of overturning the government. she was led to believe that the regent intended to shut her up in a convent. she, elizabeth, who spent her time in the barracks of the guards, and in licentious excesses ... better make herself empress! so also thought la chétardie; and he did more than think; he gave french gold to hire a handful of soldiers. on the th of november, , the grand duchess, dressed in a magnificent robe, and with a brilliant cuirass on her breast, presented herself at the guard-house of the preobrajensky regiment. she exposed to the soldiers her unhappy condition. they, reeking with wine, cried out, "command, mother, command, and we will slaughter them all!" the charitable grand duchess recoils with horror, and _only_ orders the arrest of the regent, her husband, and their son--the _baby_-emperor. once again is the old scene repeated. anthony ulrich, of braunschweig, is awakened from the most profound slumber; but this time he cannot relapse into it again, for two soldiers wrap him up in a sheet and carry him to a dungeon, which he will leave only to go and die in exile. again is the _coup d'état_ accomplished. the new reign seems to go on wheels. and once more nothing is wanting to this strange crown ... but an heir. the empress who will have nothing to do with the little ivan, seeks one in the episcopal palace of the prince-bishop of lubeck. it is the nephew of the bishop whom she selects, a grandson of peter i, an orphan without father or mother, and the intended husband of the little sophia augusta frederica, princess of anhalt-zerbst-bernburg, who resigned all these sonorous and illustrious titles to be called simply ... _catherine ii_. and now, after all that has been said, let the reader picture to himself what must have been the nature of the medium into which destiny had cast this young girl, gifted, as she was, not only with great talent, but also with a character pliant, though full of pride and passion. her position at st. petersburg was horrible. on one side was her mother, a peevish, scolding, greedy, niggardly, pedantic german, boxing her ears, and taking away her new dresses to appropriate them to her own use; on the other, the empress elizabeth, a coarse and grumbling virago, never quite sober, jealous, envious, causing every step of the young princess to be watched, every word reported, taking offence at everything, and all this after having given her for a husband the most ridiculous benedict of the age. a prisoner in the palace, she could do nothing without permission. if she wept for the death of her father, the empress sent her word that she had grieved enough. "that her father was not a king, that she should mourn him longer than a week." if she evinced a friendship for any of her maids of honour, she might be sure the lady would be dismissed. if she became attached to a faithful servant, still more certain was it that that servant would be turned away. her relations with the grand duke were monstrous, degrading. he made her the confidante of his amorous intrigues. drunk from the age of ten, he came one night in liquor to entertain his wife with a description of the graces and charms of the daughter of biren; and as catherine pretended to be asleep, he gave her a punch with his fist to awaken her. this booby kept a kennel of dogs, which infested the air, at the side of his wife's bed-chamber, and hung rats in his own, to punish them according to the rules of martial law. nor is this all. after having wounded and outraged nearly every feeling of this young creature's nature, they began to deprave her systematically. the empress regards as a breach of order her having no children. madame tchoglokoff speaks to her on the subject, insinuating that, _for the good of the state_, she ought to sacrifice her scruples, and concludes by proposing to her a choice between soltikoff and narichkine. the young lady affects simplicity and takes both--nay, poniatowsky into the bargain, and thus was commenced a career of licentiousness in which she never halted during the space of forty years. what renders the present publication of serious consequence to the imperial house of russia is, that it proves not only that this house does not belong to the family of romanoff, but that it does not even belong to that of holstein gottorp. the avowal of catherine on this point is very explicit--_the father of the emperor paul is sergius soltikoff_. the imperial dictatorship of russia endeavours in vain to represent itself as traditional and secular. one word before i close. in perusing these memoirs, the reader is astonished to find one thing constantly lost sight of, even to the extent of not appearing anywhere--it is _russia and the people_. and here is the characteristic trait of the epoch. the winter palace, with its military and administrative machinery, was a world of its own. like a ship floating on the surface of the ocean, it had no real connection with the inhabitants of the deep, beyond that of eating them. it was the _state for the state_. organized on the german model, it imposed itself on the nation as a conqueror. in that monstrous barrack, in that enormous chancery, there reigned the cold rigidity of a camp. one set gave or transmitted orders, the rest obeyed in silence. there was but one single spot within that dreary pile in which human passions reappeared, agitated and stormy, and that spot was the domestic hearth; not that of the nation--but of the state. behind that triple line of sentinels, in those heavily ornamented saloons, there fermented a feverish life, with its intrigues and its conflicts, its dramas and its tragedies. it was there that the destinies of russia were woven, in the gloom of the alcove, in the midst of orgies, _beyond_ the reach of informers and of the police. what interest, then, could the young german princess take in that _magnum ignotum_, that people _unexpressed_, poor, semi-barbarous, which concealed itself in its villages, behind the snow, behind bad roads, and only appeared in the streets of st. petersburg like a foreign outcast, with its persecuted beard, and prohibited dress--tolerated only through contempt. it was only long afterwards that catherine heard the russian people seriously spoken of, when the cossack pougatcheff, at the head of an army of insurgent peasants, menaced moscow. when pougatcheff was vanquished, the winter palace again forgot the people. and there is no telling when it would have been again remembered had it not itself put its masters in mind of its existence, by rising in mass in , rejecting, on the one hand, the release from serfdom offered to it at the point of foreign bayonets, and, on the other, marching to death to save a country which gave it nothing but slavery, degradation, misery--and the oblivion of the winter palace. this was the second _memento_ of the russian people. let us hope that at the third it will be remembered a little longer. a. herzen. london, _november th, _. memoirs of the empress catherine ii. written by herself. part i. from , the year of her birth, to . fortune is not so blind as people think. her movements are often the result of precise and well-planned measures, which escape the perception of common minds; still oftener are they the result of personal qualities, character, and conduct. to render this more evident, i will propose the following syllogism: qualities and character shall form the major conduct, the minor; good or evil fortune, the conclusion. here are two striking illustrations: peter iii. catherine ii. peter iii, his father and mother. the mother of peter iii was a daughter of peter i. two months after the birth of her son she died of consumption, in the little town of kiel, in holstein, a victim to grief at finding herself established in such a place and married so badly. charles frederic, duke of holstein, nephew of charles xii, king of sweden, was the father of peter iii. he was a weak prince, ugly, little, sickly, and poor (see the journal of berkholz, in busching's magazine). he died in , leaving his son, not quite eleven years old, under the guardianship of his cousin, adolphus frederic, bishop of lubeck and duke of holstein, since elected king of sweden, in consequence of the peace of abo, and the recommendation of the empress elizabeth. the education of peter iii was placed under the superintendence of the grand marshal of his court, brummer, a swede by birth, under whom were the great chamberlain berkholz, author of the journal just alluded to, and four chamberlains, two of whom, adlerfeldt, author of a history of charles xii, and wachmeister, were swedes, and the other two, wolff and madfeldt, natives of holstein. the prince was educated for the throne of sweden, in a court too large for the country which contained it; and this court was divided into several factions mutually hating each other, each seeking to obtain an ascendancy over the mind of the prince, instead of endeavouring to form his character, and all bent upon inspiring him with an aversion for those opposed to them. the young prince cordially hated brummer; nor did he like any of his attendants, because they kept him under restraint. even from the ago of ten, peter iii showed a fondness for drink. he had to submit to numerous presentations, and was never out of sight night or day. the persons he most liked during his childhood and the first years of his residence in russia were two old valets de chambre--cramer, a livonian, and roumberg, a swede. the latter was the favourite; he was a somewhat rough and vulgar person, who had been a dragoon under charles xii. brummer, and consequently berkholz, who only saw with the eyes of brummer, was attached to the prince guardian and administrator; all the rest were dissatisfied with this prince, and still more so with his adherents. when the empress elizabeth ascended the throne of russia, she sent the chamberlain korf into holstein to demand her nephew. in consequence, the prince administrator immediately sent him off, accompanied by the grand marshal brummer, the chamberlain berkholz, and the chamberlain decken, nephew of the former. the empress received the prince with great joy, and soon after his arrival set out for moscow to be crowned. she had determined to declare him her heir; but, first of all, it was indispensable that he should be received into the greek church. the enemies of the grand marshal brummer, and particularly the great chamberlain count bestoujeff and the count m. panin, who was for a long time russian minister in sweden, pretended to have in their possession convincing proofs that brummer, from the moment he found the empress determined to declare her nephew heir presumptive to her throne, took as much pains to corrupt the mind and heart of his pupil as he had before taken to render him worthy of the crown of sweden. but i have always doubted this atrocity, and looked upon the education of peter iii as a conflict of unfortunate circumstances. i will relate what i have seen and heard, and even that will explain a great deal. i saw peter iii for the first time when he was eleven years old. he was then at eutin with his guardian, the prince bishop of lubeck, some months after the death of his father, the duke charles frederic. the prince bishop had assembled all his family at eutin, in , in order to meet his ward. my grandmother, mother of the prince bishop, and my mother, his sister, had come from hamburg with me. i was then ten years old. prince augustus and the princess anne, brother and sister of the prince guardian and administrator of holstein, were also there; and it was then i heard it stated, in the presence of the assembled family, that the young duke was inclined to drink, his attendants finding it difficult to prevent him from getting intoxicated at table; that he was restive and impetuous; without affection for those about him, and especially disliking brummer; that, otherwise, he was not wanting in vivacity, but that he was of a weak and sickly constitution. in point of fact, his complexion was pale, and he appeared thin and delicate. to this child his attendants wished to give the appearance of a complete man; and for this purpose he was tormented with restraints only calculated to teach him falsehood as well in character as in deportment. the little court of holstein had not long been settled in russia when an embassy arrived from sweden, requesting the empress to allow her nephew to be placed on the throne of that kingdom. elizabeth, however, had already announced her intentions by the preliminaries of the peace of abo, as previously mentioned; and she replied to the swedish diet that she had declared her nephew heir to the throne of russia, and that she adhered to the preliminaries of the peace of abo, which gave to sweden, as heir presumptive to the crown, the prince administrator of holstein. (this prince had had an elder brother, to whom the empress had been affianced at the death of peter i. the marriage had not taken place, as the prince died of small-pox a few weeks after the betrothal; but the empress retained much affection for his memory, as she showed by many marks of favour to all the family.) peter iii, then, was declared heir to elizabeth and grand duke of russia, after having previously made his profession of faith according to the rites of the greek church. his instructor on this occasion was simon theodorsky, since archbishop of pleskov. the prince had been baptized and brought up in the lutheran creed in its most rigid and least tolerant form. he had always been refractory under instruction of every kind; and i have heard his attendants say that, while at kiel, they had infinite trouble in getting him to church on sundays and holidays, and making him perform the acts of devotion required of him; and that most of the time he displayed his irreligion in the presence of simon theodorsky. his royal highness took it into his head to dispute upon every point, and his attendants had often to be called in to check his ill-humour or impetuosity. at last, after giving a deal of trouble, he submitted to the wishes of his aunt the empress; though, whether from prejudice, habit, or the spirit of contradiction, he frequently took care to let it be seen that he would rather have gone to sweden than remain in russia. he retained brummer, berkholz, and his holstein attendants until his marriage. some other masters were added to these as a matter of routine: mr. isaac wesselowsky for the russian language; he came but rarely at first, and finally not at all; the other was the professor stehlein, who was to teach him mathematics and history, but who, in reality, only played with him, and served him as a buffoon. the person who was most assiduous was the ballet-master, laudé, who taught him dancing. . at first, the sole occupation of the grand duke, when in his private apartment, was to make the two servants who attended him there to go through the military exercise. he gave them titles and ranks, and then again degraded them, according to the whim of the moment. it was truly child's play, and a constant childhood. in general, indeed, he was very childish, although at this time he was sixteen. in , while the court was at moscow, catherine ii arrived there with her mother, on the th of february. the russian court was at that time divided into two great sections or parties. at the head of the first, which now began to recover from its previous depression, was the vice-chancellor count bestoujeff rumine. he was a man far more feared than loved, excessively intriguing and suspicious, firm and resolute in his principles, not a little tyrannical, an implacable enemy, but a steady friend, never abandoning those who did not first turn their backs on him. he was, besides, difficult to get along with, and apt to stand upon trifles. he was at the head of the department of foreign affairs. having to contend with those immediately about the empress, he had been kept down before the journey to moscow; but now he began to gain an ascendancy. he leaned to the court of vienna, to that of saxony, and to england. the arrival of catherine ii and her mother gave him no pleasure; it was the secret work of the faction opposed to him. the enemies of the count were numerous, but he made them all tremble. he had over them the advantage of his position and character, which gave him great weight in the politics of the ante-chamber. the party opposed to bestoujeff were in favour of france, her protégée sweden, and the king of prussia. the marquis de la chétardie was the soul of this party; the courtiers from holstein its prominent personages. they had gained over lestocq, one of the principal actors in the revolution which had placed elizabeth on the throne of russia. he had a large share in her confidence. he had been her surgeon since the death of the empress catherine i, to whose household he had also been attached, and had rendered essential services to both mother and daughter. he was not wanting either in shrewdness, skill, or intrigue; but he was malicious, and had a bad heart. all these strangers supported him, and put forward count michael woronzoff, who had also taken part in the revolution, and had accompanied elizabeth on the night she ascended the throne. she had made him marry the niece of the empress catherine i, the countess anna karlovna skavronsky, who had been brought up with herself, and was very much attached to her. to this faction also belonged the count alexander roumianzoff, father of the marshal, who had signed the peace of abo with sweden--a peace in which bestoujeff had been but little consulted. the party also counted upon the procurator-general troubetzkoy, upon the whole troubetzkoy family, and, consequently, upon the prince of hesse-homburg, who had married a princess of this family. the prince of hesse-homburg, who was much thought of at that time, was personally of little consequence, his importance being wholly derived from the extensive family to which his wife belonged, and of which the father and mother were still living: the latter enjoyed great consideration. the remaining portion of those who were about the empress consisted at that time of the family of schouvaloff. these balanced in all respects the master of the hounds, razoumowsky, who, for the moment, was the acknowledged favourite. count bestoujeff knew how to make these latter useful, but his chief reliance was on the baron tcherkassoff, secretary of the cabinet to the empress, and who had previously served in the cabinet of peter i. he was a rough and headstrong man, an advocate of order and justice, and one who wished to see everything in due form and system. the remainder of the court took sides with one or other of these parties, according to their several interests or personal feelings. the arrival of my mother and myself seemed to give the grand duke much pleasure. i was then in my fifteenth year. during the first few days he showed me great attention. even then, and in that short time, i could see that he cared but little for the nation over which he was destined to rule; that he leaned to lutheranism; that he had no affection for those about him; and that he was very childish. i was silent, and listened, and this gained me his confidence. i remember his telling me, among other things, that what most pleased him in me was, that i was his cousin, as he could therefore, from our near relationship, open his heart to me with entire confidence; and hereupon he went on to inform me that he was in love with one of the maids of honour to the empress, who had been dismissed from court in consequence of the misfortune of her mother, a madame lapoukine, who had been exiled to siberia; that he would have been very glad to have married her, but that he was resigned to marry me instead, as his aunt wished it. i listened with a blush to these family disclosures, thanking him for his premature confidence; but, in reality, i was astounded at his imprudence and utter want of judgment in a variety of matters. the tenth day after my arrival in moscow, it was saturday, the empress went to the convent of troïtza. the grand duke remained with us at moscow. three masters had already been assigned me: simon theodorsky, to instruct me in the greek faith; basil adadouroff, for the russian language; and the ballet-master, laudé, for dancing. in order to make greater progress in the russian, i used to sit up in bed when every one else was asleep, and learned by heart the lessons which adadouroff had left me. as my room was warm, and i had no experience of the climate, i neglected to put on my shoes or stockings, but studied just as i left my bed. the consequence was, that from the fifteenth day i was seized with a pleurisy which threatened to kill me. it commenced with a shivering, which seized me on the tuesday after the departure of the empress for the convent of troïtza, just as i had dressed for dinner. my mother and myself were to dine that day with the grand duke, and i had much difficulty in getting her to allow me to go to bed. on her return from dinner, she found me almost without consciousness, in a burning fever, and with an excruciating pain in the side. she fancied i was going to have the small-pox; sent for the physicians, and wished me to be treated in consequence. the medical men insisted on my being bled, but she would not listen to the proposal, saying that it was from being bled that her brother had died of the small-pox in russia, and that she did not wish me to share the same fate. the physicians, and the attendants of the grand duke, who had not had the disease, sent to the empress an exact report of the state of matters, and in the mean time, while my mother and the doctors were disputing, i lay in my bed, unconscious, in a burning fever, and with a pain in the side which occasioned intense suffering, and forced from me continual moanings, for which my mother scolded me, telling me that i ought to bear my sufferings patiently. finally, on the saturday evening, at seven o'clock, that is, on the fifth day of my disease, the empress returned from the convent at troïtza, and, on alighting from her carriage, proceeded to my room, and found me without consciousness. she had with her count lestocq and a surgeon, and having heard the opinion of the physicians, she sat down at the head of my bed, and ordered me to be bled. the moment the blood came, i recovered my consciousness, and, opening my eyes, found myself in the arms of the empress, who had lifted me up. for twenty-seven days i lay between life and death, and during that period i was bled sixteen times, on some occasions as often as four times in the day. my mother was scarcely ever allowed to enter my room. she continued opposed to these frequent bleedings, and loudly asserted that the doctors were killing me. she began, however, to believe that i should not have the small-pox. the empress had placed the countess roumianzoff and several other ladies in attendance on me, and it seemed that my mother's judgment was distrusted. at last, under the care of the physician sanches, a portuguese, the abscess which had formed in my right side burst. i vomited it, and from that moment i began to recover. i soon perceived that my mother's conduct during my illness had lowered her in every one's estimation. when she saw me very bad, she wished a lutheran clergyman to be brought to me. i have been told that they brought me to myself, or took advantage of a moment of returning consciousness, to propose this to me, and that i replied, "what is the good? i would rather have simon theodorsky; i will speak to him with pleasure." he was brought, and addressed me in a manner that gave general satisfaction. this occurrence did me great service in the opinion of the empress and of the entire court. there was also another circumstance which injured my mother. one day, towards easter, she took it into her head to send me word by a maid-servant that she wished me to give up to her a piece of blue and silver stuff, which my father's brother had presented to me on my departure for russia, seeing that i had taken a great fancy for it. i replied that she could, of course, take it, though i certainly prized it very much, as my uncle had given it to me because i liked it so much. the persons about me perceiving that i parted with it unwillingly, and considering how long i had hovered between life and death, having only got a little better within the last two or three days, began to complain of my mother's imprudence in giving any annoyance to a dying child, saying, that so far from depriving me of my dress, she ought not even to have mentioned the matter. the circumstance was related to the empress, who instantly sent me several superb pieces of stuff, and among them one of blue and silver, but the circumstance injured my mother in the estimation of the empress. she was accused of having no affection for me, nor any discretion either. i had accustomed myself during my illness to lie with my eyes closed. i was supposed to be asleep, and then the countess roumianzoff, and the ladies who were with her, spoke their minds freely, and i thus learned a great many things. as i began to get better, the grand duke often came to spend the evening in my mother's apartment, which was also mine. he and every one else seemed to take the greatest interest in my condition. the empress had often shed tears about me. at last, on the st of april, , my birthday, whence commenced my fifteenth year, i was able to appear in public for the first time after this severe illness. i fancy that people were not much edified with the apparition. i was wasted away to a skeleton. i had grown; but my face and features had lengthened, my hair had fallen off, and i was deadly pale. to myself i looked frightfully ugly; i could not recognize myself. the empress sent me, on the occasion, a pot of rouge, and ordered me to use it. with the return of spring and fine weather, the assiduities of the grand duke ceased. he preferred walking and shooting in the environs of moscow. sometimes, however, he came to dine or sup with us, and then he continued his childish confidences to me, while his attendants conversed with my mother, who received much company, and with whom many conferences took place, which did not fail to displease those who were not present at them, especially count bestoujeff, all whose enemies were in the habit of assembling with us, and particularly the marquis de la chétardie, who had not yet put forth any character[ ] from the court of france, though he carried in his pocket his credentials as ambassador. in the month of may, the empress again visited the convent of troïtza, whither the grand duke, myself, and my mother followed her. for some time the empress had begun to treat my mother with much coldness. at the convent of troïtza, the reason for this became apparent. one afternoon, when the grand duke was in our room, the empress entered suddenly, and desired my mother to follow her into the other apartment. count lestocq followed there also. the grand duke and i sat upon a window-sill, waiting. the conversation lasted a long time. at last, count lestocq came out, and, in passing, came near the place where the grand duke and i were sitting laughing, and said to us, "this merriment will soon cease." and then, turning to me, he added, "you may pack up: you are going to set off home at once." the grand duke wished to know the reason of this. "you will learn afterwards," was the reply of the count, who departed to fulfil the commission with which he was charged, and of the nature of which i was ignorant. the grand duke and myself were left to ruminate on what we had heard. his commentaries were in words; mine in thoughts. "but," he said, "if your mother is in fault, you are not." i answered, "my duty is to follow my mother, and do what she orders me." i saw plainly that he would have parted from me without regret. as for myself, considering his character and sentiments, the matter was nearly indifferent to me also, but the crown of russia was not so. at last the door of the bed-room opened, and the empress came out with a flushed face and an angry look. my mother followed her, her eyes red, and filled with tears. as we scrambled down from the window where we were perched, and which was rather high, the empress smiled. she then kissed us both, and departed. when she had gone, we learned pretty nearly how matters stood. the marquis de la chétardie, who formerly, or, to speak more correctly, in his first diplomatic journey to russia, had stood very high in the favour and confidence of the empress, found himself, in his second journey, fallen from his hopes. his conversations were more measured than his letters; these were filled with the most rancorous bitterness. they had been opened, deciphered. in them were found the details of his conversations with my mother, and with many other persons, relative to the affairs of the empire, and to the empress herself; and as the marquis had not displayed any character,[ ] the order was given for expelling him from the empire. the badge of the order of st. andrew and the portrait of the empress were taken from him; but he was allowed to retain all the other presents of jewels made him by her majesty. i do not know whether my mother succeeded in justifying herself in the mind of the empress, but at all events, we did not go away. however, my mother continued to be treated with much reserve and coldness. i do not know what passed between her and la chétardie, but i know that one day he complimented me on my having my hair arranged _en moyse_. i replied that to satisfy the empress, i would dress my hair in every style that could give her pleasure. when he heard this he turned on his heel, went off in another direction, and did not again speak to me. on our return from moscow with the grand duke, my mother and i were more isolated. fewer people came to see us, and i was being prepared for making my profession of faith. the th of june was fixed for this ceremony, and the following day, the feast of st. peter, for my betrothal with the grand duke. i remember that marshal brummer, several times during this period, complained to me of his pupil, and wished to make use of me for correcting or reproving him; but i told him it was impossible for me to do so, and that were i to attempt it i should only render myself as odious to him as his attendants were already. during this period, my mother became very intimate with the prince and princess of hesse, and still more so with the brother of the latter, the chamberlain retsky. this connection displeased the countess roumianzoff, marshal brummer, and, in fact, every one; and, while she was engaged with them in her room, the grand duke and i were making a racket in the ante-chamber, of which we were in full possession; we were neither of us wanting in youthful vivacity. in the month of july, the empress celebrated, at moscow, the peace with sweden. on this occasion, a court was formed for me, as an affianced grand duchess of russia; and, immediately after the celebration, the empress sent us off for kiev. she set out herself some days later. we made short stages--my mother and i, the countess roumianzoff, and one of the ladies of my mother's suite in one carriage; the grand duke, brummer, berkholz, and decken in another. one afternoon, the grand duke, tired of being with his pedagogues, wished to join my mother and me. once in with us, he would not leave our carriage. then my mother, wearied with being always with him and me, took a fancy to augment our company. she communicated her idea to the young people of our suite, among whom were prince galitzine, since marshal of this name, and count zachar czernicheff. one of the carriages, containing our beds, was taken, benches were ranged all round it, and the next morning the grand duke, my mother and i, prince galitzine, count czernicheff, and one or two more of the youngest of the suite, entered it. and thus we passed the rest of our journey very gaily, as far as our carriage life was concerned; but all who were not with us protested against the arrangement. it extremely displeased the grand marshal brummer, the great chamberlain berkholz, the countess roumianzoff, the lady-in-waiting on my mother, and, in fact, all the rest of the suite, because they were never admitted; and, while we laughed through the journey, they were grumbling and wearied. in this manner we reached koselsk, at the end of three weeks, and there remained three other weeks waiting for the empress, who had been delayed on her route by several occurrences. we learnt at koselsk that during her journey several persons of her suite had been sent into exile, and that she was in very bad humour. at last, about the middle of august, she reached koselsk, and we remained there with her till the end of the month. while there, the people played at faro from morning till night, in a large hall in the centre of the house, and they played high. we were all much cramped in point of space. my mother and i slept in the same room, the countess roumianzoff and the lady-in-waiting on my mother in the ante-chamber, and so on with the others. one day, when the grand duke came into our room, my mother was writing, while her casket lay open at her side. the duke, from curiosity, wanted to rummage in the casket; my mother told him not to touch it; and, in point of fact, he moved away and went capering about the place. but while leaping here and there in order to make me laugh, he caught the lid of the casket and upset it. then my mother got angry, and hard words passed between them. she accused him of having upset the casket on purpose; he denied this, and complained of her injustice. both appealed to me. knowing my mother's temper, i was afraid of getting my ears boxed if i did not side with her; and, on the other hand, i did not wish to tell a falsehood or displease the grand duke, so that i was between two fires. however, i told my mother that i did not think the duke had done it intentionally, but that, while leaping, his dress had caught the lid of the casket, which stood on a very small stool. then my mother took me in hand, for when she was angry she must have some one to find fault with. i was silent and began to cry. the grand duke finding that all my mother's anger fell upon me, because i had testified in his favour, and seeing me in tears, accused her of injustice and of being mad with passion; to which she retorted by calling him a very ill-behaved little boy. in a word, it would have been difficult to go farther than they did without actually coming to blows. from this moment the grand duke took a dislike to my mother; nor did he ever forget this quarrel. she, on the other hand, retained a grudge against him, and their behaviour to each other tended to produce restraint, distrust, and bitterness. they seldom concealed their feelings when with me, and it was in vain that i sought to soften them towards each other. i never succeeded beyond the moment, and that but rarely. they had always some sarcasm ready for annoyance, and my situation became every day more painful. i tried to obey the one and please the other; and, indeed, at that time the grand duke gave me his confidence more completely than he did to any one else; for he saw that my mother often took me to task, when she was unable to fasten upon him. this, of course, did me no harm in his estimation, for he felt that he could count upon me. finally, on the th of august we reached kiev. we remained there ten days, and then set out for moscow, travelling in precisely the same manner as before. having arrived at moscow, the entire autumn was passed in dramatic representations, ballets, and court masquerades. in spite of all this, however, it was evident that the empress was often in bad humour. one day while at the theatre, my mother, the grand duke, and i, being in a box opposite her majesty, i perceived the empress speaking very warmly and angrily to count lestocq. when she had ended, the count left her and came to our box. approaching me he said, "have you seen how the empress spoke to me?" i answered that i had. "very well, then," he said; "she is very angry with you." "with me! and why?" i replied. "because," he said, "you are much in debt. she says that wells may be dried up; that when she was a princess she had no greater allowance than you have, though she had an establishment to provide for; and that she took care not to get into debt, because she knew that no one would pay for her." all this he uttered in a dry tone and with an air of displeasure, apparently that the empress might see from her box how he had executed his commission. tears came into my eyes, and i was silent. having finished what he had to say, the count departed. the grand duke, who was seated at my side, heard most of the conversation; and after questioning me relative to the remainder, he gave me to understand, rather by looks than words, that he agreed with his aunt and was not sorry i had been scolded. this was his general way of acting, and he fancied he should thus render himself agreeable to the empress by entering into her views when she was angry with any one. my mother also, when she learnt what had happened, said it was only the natural consequence of the pains that had been taken to withdraw me from her control; and that since they had put me in a condition to act without consulting her, she should wash her hands of the matter. thus they both took part against me. as for me, i determined instantly to put my affairs into order; and the next morning i called for my accounts. from these i found that i was in debt to the amount of , roubles. before leaving moscow for kiev, the empress had sent me , roubles and a large chest of simple dresses; but it was necessary for me to be richly dressed, so that, everything reckoned, i owed , roubles, and this did not appear to me an unreasonable sum. different causes had thrown me into these expenses. in the first place, i had arrived in russia very badly provided for. if i had three or four dresses in the world, it was the very outside; and this at a court where people changed their dress three times a-day. a dozen chemises constituted the whole of my linen, and i had to use my mother's sheets. in the second place, i had been told that in russia people liked presents; and that generosity was the best means of acquiring friends and making one's self agreeable. thirdly, they had placed with me the most extravagant woman in russia, the countess roumianzoff, who was always surrounded with tradesmen, and constantly showing me a variety of things which she induced me to purchase, and which i often purchased merely to present them to her, as i knew she was eager to have them. the grand duke also cost me not a little, for he was fond of presents. besides, i had found out that my mother's ill-humour was easily appeased by the present of anything that pleased her; and as she was often out of temper, and especially with me, i did not neglect this means of soothing her. her ill-humour arose in part from her being on such a bad footing with the empress, and from the fact that her majesty often subjected her to annoyances and humiliations. besides, heretofore, i had always followed her; and now she could not without displeasure see me take precedence of her. i carefully avoided doing so, whenever it was possible; but in public it could not be avoided. in general, i had made it a rule to pay her the greatest respect, and treat her with all possible deference; but it was of no use, she had always and on all occasions some disagreeable remark to make, a thing which did not do her much good or prepossess people in her favour. the countess roumianzoff, by her scandals and gossippings, contributed much--as did many others--to prejudice my mother in the opinion of the empress. that carriage for eight, during the journey to kiev, had also much to do with this result. all the old had been excluded; all the young admitted. god only knows what was tortured out of this arrangement, harmless as it was in itself. what was most evident was, that it had displeased all those who by their rank were entitled to admission, but were, nevertheless, set aside for the sake of more amusing companions. but the real foundation of all this trouble was the exclusion of betzky and the troubetzkoys, in whom my mother had most confidence during the journey to kiev. brummer and the countess roumianzoff had also, no doubt, contributed to it; and the carriage for eight, into which they had not been admitted, was a source of rancour. in the month of november, the grand duke took the measles, at moscow. as i had not had them, care was taken to prevent me from catching them. those who were about the prince did not come near us, and all diversions ceased. as soon as the disease had passed off, and the winter fully set in, we left moscow for st. petersburg, in sledges; my mother and me in one, the grand duke and brummer in another. we celebrated the birthday of the empress, the th of december, at tver, and the next day continued our journey. having reached the town of chotilovo--about midway--the grand duke, while in my room in the evening, became unwell. he was led to his own apartments, and put to bed. he had considerable fever during the night. at noon, the next day, my mother and i went to see him; but i had scarcely passed the threshold when count brummer advanced towards me, and desired me not to proceed farther. i asked the reason, and learnt that indications of small-pox had just manifested themselves. as i had not had the disease, my mother instantly hurried me out of the room; and it was decided that she and i should set off the same day for st. petersburg, leaving the duke and his suite at chotilovo. the countess roumianzoff and the lady in attendance on my mother remained there also, to nurse the invalid, they said. a courier, despatched to the empress, had already preceded us, and was by this time at st. petersburg. at some distance from novogorod, we met the empress herself, who, having learnt that the grand duke had taken the small-pox, was on her way from st. petersburg to chotilovo, where she remained as long as the disease lasted. as soon as she perceived us, though it was in the middle of the night, she stopped her sledge and ours to make inquiries concerning the condition of the duke. my mother told her all she knew, and she then bade the driver proceed, while we continued our journey, and reached novogorod towards morning. it was a sunday, and i went to mass, after which we dined; and just as we were about to start again, the chamberlain, prince galitzine, and the gentleman of the bedchamber, zachar czernicheff, arrived from moscow, on their way to st. petersburg. my mother was angry with the prince because he was in company with count czernicheff, who had told some falsehood or other. she maintained that he ought to be avoided as a dangerous character, who indulged in gratuitous fabrications. she sulked with them both; but as this sulking was dreadfully wearisome, as, besides, there was no choice in the matter, and as these two gentlemen were better informed and had more conversational powers than any of the others, i did not join in these sulks, and this drew upon me some unpleasant remarks from my mother. at last we reached st. petersburg, and took up our residence in one of the houses attached to the court. the palace, at that time, was not sufficiently large to allow even the grand duke to reside there, so that he occupied a house situated between the palace and ours. my apartments were at the left of the palace, my mother's at the right. as soon as she saw this arrangement, she became angry: first, because she thought my rooms better situated than her own; secondly, because hers were separated from mine by a common hall. in point of fact, we each had four rooms, two in front and two facing the court-yard of the house. the rooms were equal in size, and furnished exactly alike, the furniture being blue and red. but what chiefly contributed to annoy my mother was the circumstance which i am going to mention. while we were at moscow, the countess roumianzoff had brought me the plan of this house by direction of the empress, forbidding me, in her name, to speak of the matter, and consulting me as to how my mother and myself should be respectively placed. there was no choice in the case, for the two sets of apartments were in all respects equal. i said so to the countess, and she gave me to understand that the empress preferred my having separate rooms to occupying, as at moscow, the same apartments as my mother. this change pleased me also, for i was much inconvenienced in being with my mother, and, in fact, no one liked the arrangement. my mother in some way got to hear of the plan that had been shown me. she spoke to me on the subject, and i told the simple truth, just as the matter had occurred. she scolded me for the secrecy i had maintained. i said i had been forbidden to speak; but she would not admit the validity of this reason, and altogether i saw that from day to day, she became more and more displeased with me, and, in fact, she had managed to quarrel with almost every one, so that she now scarcely ever came to table, either for dinner or supper, but was served in her own room. as for me, i went to her apartments three or four times a-day. the rest of my time was spent in learning russian, in playing on the harpsichord, and in reading, for i had bought myself books; so that at fifteen i was retired, and tolerably studious for my age. towards the close of our stay at moscow, a swedish embassy arrived, at the head of which was the senator cedercreutz. a short time afterwards, the count gyllenburg also arrived, to announce to the empress the marriage of the prince of sweden, my mother's brother, with a swedish princess. count gyllenburg, and many other swedes, became known to us at the time of the prince royal's departure for sweden. he was a man of talent, no longer young, and my mother thought very highly of him. for myself, i was, in some respects, under obligations to him; for at hamburg, seeing that my mother made little or no account of me, he told her she was wrong, and assured her that i was a child much beyond my age. on his arrival at st. petersburg, he visited us, and as he had told me, while at hamburg, that i had a very philosophical turn of mind, he asked me how it fared with my philosophy in the vortex in which i was placed. i told him how i passed my time in my room. he replied that a philosopher of fifteen could not know herself, and that i was surrounded by so many rocks that i ran great danger of being wrecked, unless the temper of my mind was of a very superior stamp; that i ought, therefore, to fortify it by the study of the best works, such as the lives of plutarch, that of cicero, and the causes of the greatness and decay of the roman republic, by montesquieu. i immediately ordered those books to be procured for me, and there was considerable difficulty in finding them in st. petersburg at that period. i told the count that i would trace my portrait for him, such as i supposed it, that he might see whether or not i really did understand myself. i did, in fact, trace out this portrait in writing, and gave it to him under the following title:--"a portrait of the philosopher of fifteen." many years afterwards, viz., in the year , i turned up this portrait; and i was astonished at the accuracy and depth of self-knowledge which it evinced. unfortunately i burnt it that same year, with all my other papers, fearing to keep a single one in my room, at the time of the unfortunate affair of bestoujeff. count gyllenburg returned my manuscript a few days afterwards. i do not know whether he took a copy. he accompanied it by some dozen pages of reflections which he had made relative to me. in these he endeavoured to strengthen my character in firmness and elevation of mind, as well as in all the other qualities of the head and heart. i read his remarks again and again, many times. i impressed them on my mind, and determined very sincerely to follow his advice. i made a promise to myself that i would do so, and when once i have made a promise to myself, i do not remember ever having failed in keeping it. finally, i returned the manuscript to the count as he had requested, and i confess that it has been of great service to me in forming and strengthening my mind and character. in the beginning of february, the empress returned from chotilovo with the grand duke. as soon as we had heard of her arrival we went to receive her, and met her in the great hall, between four and five o'clock in the evening, when it was nearly dark. notwithstanding the obscurity, however, i was almost terrified at beholding the grand duke. he had grown very much, but his features were scarcely to be recognized; they had all enlarged; the whole face was still swelled, and it was quite evident that he would remain deeply marked. as his hair had been cut off, he wore an immense wig, which greatly added to his disfigurement. he came to me, and asked if i did not find it difficult to recognize him. i stammered out my congratulations upon his convalescence, but in truth he had grown frightful. on the th of february, , a year had passed since my arrival at the court of russia. on the th, the empress celebrated the birthday of the grand duke. he had now entered his seventeenth year. on this occasion, i dined with her majesty. she dined upon the throne, and i was the only guest. the grand duke did not appear in public that day, nor for a long time afterwards; they were in no hurry to show him in the condition in which the small-pox had left him. the empress was very gracious during dinner. she told me that the letters i had written to her in russian, while she was at chotilovo, had very much pleased her (to tell the truth, they were the composition of m. adadourof, though i had copied them out;) and she also said she had been informed that i took great pains to acquire the language of the country. she spoke to me in russian, and wished me to reply to her in that language, which i did; and then she was pleased to praise my correct pronunciation. finally, she told me that i had grown handsomer since my illness at moscow. in fact, during the whole time of dinner, she was occupied in giving me marks of her kindness and affection. i returned home highly delighted with my dinner, and received congratulations on all sides. the empress had my portrait, which the painter caravaque had commenced, brought to her, and she kept it in her own room. it is the one which the sculptor falconnet has carried with him to france. at the time, it was a speaking likeness. in going to mass, or to the empress, my mother and i had to pass through the apartments of the grand duke, which were situated near mine; we therefore often saw him. he also was in the habit of coming of an evening, to pass some moments with me; but there was no eagerness in these visits. on the contrary, he was always glad of any excuse for dispensing with them, and remaining at home, occupied with the childish amusements already mentioned. a short time after the arrival of the empress and grand duke at st. petersburg, my mother met with a serious annoyance, which she could not conceal. prince augustus, her brother, had written to her at kiev, expressing his great desire to visit russia. she had learnt that the only object of this journey was to have the administration of the territory of holstein conferred upon him as soon as the grand duke became of age; and it was proposed to advance the period of his majority. in other words, it was wished to take the guardianship out of the hands of the elder brother, now become prince royal of sweden, in order to give the administration of the territory of holstein, in the name of the grand duke, then of age, to prince augustus, the younger brother of my mother and of the prince royal of sweden. this intrigue had been formed by the holstein party, which was opposed to the prince royal, joined by the danes, who could not pardon this prince for having prevailed, in sweden, over the prince royal of denmark, whom the dalecarlians wished to elect as successor to the throne of sweden. my mother replied to prince augustus from koselsk, telling him, that instead of lending himself to intrigues directed against his brother, it would be better for him to enter the service of holland, where he was, and die with honour, rather than cabal against his brother and join the enemies of his sister in russia. my mother had here reference to count bestoujeff, who encouraged all this intrigue in order to injure brummer, and all the other friends of the prince royal of sweden, the guardian of the grand duke for holstein. this letter was opened, and read by the count and the empress, who was by no means pleased with my mother, and very much irritated against the prince royal of sweden, who, led by his wife, sister of the king of prussia, had allowed himself to be carried away by the french party in all their views, a party in every way opposed to russia. he was accused of ingratitude, and my mother of want of affection for her younger brother, because she had told him to die (_se faire tuer_), an expression which was treated as harsh and inhuman; while my mother, in the company of her friends, boasted of having used a firm and sounding phrase. the result of all this was, that without any regard for my mother's feelings, or rather to mortify her and annoy the holstein-swedish party, count bestoujeff obtained permission, unknown to my mother, for prince augustus of holstein to visit st. petersburg. my mother, when she learnt that he was on his way, was extremely annoyed and grieved, and received him very coldly. but he, pushed on by bestoujeff, ran his course. the empress was persuaded to give him a favourable reception, which she did in appearance. this, however, did not last, and could not last, for prince augustus was not in himself a person of any consequence. even his external appearance was against him. he was very small, and badly made, passionate, and with but little talent, and entirely led by his followers, who were themselves quite insignificant. his stupidity, since i must speak out, very much annoyed my mother, and, altogether, his arrival nearly drove her crazy. count bestoujeff, having obtained a control over the mind of the prince by means of his followers, killed many birds with one stone. he could not be ignorant that the grand duke hated brummer as much as he did himself. prince augustus did not like him either, because he was attached to the prince royal of sweden, under pretence of relationship and as a native of holstein. prince augustus ingratiated himself with the grand duke by constantly talking to him about holstein and his coming majority, so that he induced him to urge his aunt and count bestoujeff to advance the period. to do this, however, it was necessary to have the consent of the roman emperor, who, at that time, was charles vii, of the house of bavaria. but, meantime, he died, and the matter dragged on till the election of francis i. as prince augustus had been coldly received by my mother, and, in return, manifested but little consideration for her, this circumstance also contributed to diminish the slight remains of respect which the grand duke entertained for her. on the other hand, both prince augustus and the old valet, the favourite of the grand duke, fearing, seemingly, my future influence, often talked to him about the manner in which he ought to treat his wife. romberg, an old swedish dragoon, told him that his wife dared not speak in his presence nor meddle with his affairs; and that if she only attempted to open her mouth even, he ordered her to hold her tongue; that he was master in his own house, and that it was disgraceful for a husband to allow himself to be led by his wife like a booby. now the grand duke had about as much discretion as a cannon ball, and, when his mind was full of anything, he could not rest until he had unburdened it to the persons he was in the habit of talking with, never for a moment considering to whom it was he spoke. consequently he used to tell me all these things, with the utmost frankness, the first time he saw me afterwards. he always fancied that every one was of his opinion, and that nothing could be more reasonable than all this. i took good care not to speak of these things to any one; but they made me reflect very seriously upon the fate which awaited me. i determined to husband carefully the confidence of the grand duke, in order that he might at least consider me as a person of whom he felt sure, and to whom he could confide everything without the least inconvenience to himself; and in this i succeeded for a long time. besides, i treated every one in the best way i could, and studied how to gain the friendship, or at least to lessen the enmity of those whom i in any way suspected of being badly disposed to me. i showed no leaning to any side, nor meddled with anything; always maintained a serene air, treated every one with great attention, affability, and politeness, and, as i was naturally very gay, i saw with pleasure that from day to day i advanced in the general esteem, and was looked upon as an interesting child, and one by no means wanting in mind. i showed great respect for my mother, a boundless obedience for the empress, and the most profound deference for the grand duke; and i sought with the most anxious care to gain the affection of the public. from the period of our visit to moscow, the empress had assigned me some ladies and gentlemen who formed my court. a short time after my arrival at st. petersburg she gave me some russian maids, in order, as she said, to aid me in acquiring increased facility in the use of the language. this arrangement pleased me very much; for these persons were all young, the oldest of them being only about twenty; all, too, were very lively, so that from that time i did nothing but sing, dance, and play in my room, from the moment i awoke in the morning till i went to sleep again at night. in the evening, after supper, i brought into my bed-room my three maids, the two princesses gagarine and mademoiselle koucheleff, and we played at blind-man's buff and all sorts of games suited to our age. all these ladies mortally feared the countess roumianzoff; but as she played at cards from morning till night, either in the ante-chamber or in her own room, never leaving her chair, except from necessity, she rarely came near us. in the midst of our mirth, the fancy seized me to distribute among my women the care of all my effects. i placed my money, my expenditure, and my linen in the charge of mademoiselle schenck, the lady's-maid whom i had brought from germany; she was a silly and querulous old maid, to whom our gaiety was extremely annoying; and besides that, she was jealous of all these young companions who were about to share her functions and my affection. i gave all my jewels to mademoiselle joukoff; she having more intelligence and being more gay and frank than the others, began to gain my favour. my clothes i entrusted to my valet timothy yevreinoff; my lace to mademoiselle balkoff, who afterwards married the poet soumarokoff; my ribbons to the elder mademoiselle scorochodov, since married to aristarchus kachkine; her younger sister anne having nothing, as she was only between thirteen and fourteen years old. the day after this grand arrangement, in which i had exercised my central power within the limits of my own chamber, and without consulting a living soul, there were theatricals in the evening. to go to them, it was necessary to pass through my mother's apartments. the empress, the grand duke, and the whole court were there. a little theatre had been erected in a riding-school, which, in the time of the empress anne, had been used by the duke of courland, whose apartments i now occupied. after the play, when the empress had retired, the countess roumianzoff came into my room, and told me that the empress disapproved of the arrangement i had made in distributing the care of my effects among my women, and that she was ordered to withdraw the keys of my jewels out of the hands of mademoiselle joukoff, and restore them to mademoiselle schenck, which she did in my presence, and then departed, leaving mademoiselle joukoff and me with faces somewhat elongated, and mademoiselle schenck triumphing in the marked confidence of the empress. she began to assume with me arrogant airs, which made her more ridiculous than ever, and even less amiable than she had been before. the first week of lent i had a singular scene with the grand duke. in the morning, while in my room with my maids, who were all very devout, listening to matins, which were sung in the ante-chamber, i received an embassy from the grand duke. he had sent me his dwarf to inquire how i was, and to tell me that, on account of its being lent, he should not visit me that day. the dwarf found us all listening to the prayers, and fulfilling exactly the prescriptions of lent, according to our creed. i returned the usual compliments to the duke, through his dwarf, who then departed. when he got back, whether it was that he had really been edified by what he had seen, or that he wished his dear lord and master, who was anything but devout, to do the same, he passed a high eulogium upon the devotion which reigned in my apartments, and, by doing so, put the duke in a very bad humour with me. the first time we met he began by sulking. having asked the cause of this, he scolded me very much for what he called the excessive devotion to which i gave myself up. when i asked who had told him this, he named his dwarf as an eye-witness of it. i told him i did no more than was proper, only what every one else did, and what could not be dispensed with without scandal; but he thought differently. the dispute ended as most disputes do, by leaving each one with his own opinion; but, as his imperial highness had no one but me to speak to during mass, he gradually left off pouting. two days after, i had another alarm. in the morning, while matins were being sung in my apartments, mademoiselle schenck entered my room in great consternation, telling me that my mother had been taken ill, and had fainted. i instantly ran to her, and found her lying on the ground on a mattress, but not unconscious. i ventured to ask her what was the matter. she told me, that wishing to be bled, the surgeon was so clumsy as to miss four times, having tried both arms and both feet, and that she had fainted. i knew that she dreaded bleeding; i was ignorant of her intention in wishing to be bled, and did not even know that she stood in need of it. yet she reproached me with caring little for her condition, and said many disagreeable things on the subject. i excused myself in the best way i could, acknowledging my ignorance; but, seeing that she was in a very bad humour, i became silent, and endeavoured to restrain my tears, nor did i leave her till she had desired me to do so with some degree of harshness. on my return to my room, in tears, my maids wanted to know what was the matter, and i told them quite simply. i went several times during the day to my mother's room, and remained there as long as i thought i could do so without being troublesome. this was a capital point with her, to which i was so well accustomed, that there is nothing i have so carefully avoided during my life as remaining with any one longer than i was wanted. i have made it a point instantly to retire whenever the least suspicion crossed my mind that my farther stay would be an inconvenience. but i know by experience that every one does not act upon the same principle, for my own patience has often been put to the test by those who do not know how to go away before they have worn out their welcome or become a source of weariness. in the course of the lent, my mother had a grief which was very real. at a time when it was least expected, she received the news of the sudden death of my younger sister, elizabeth, a child only between three and four years old. she was very much afflicted, and i grieved also. one morning, some few days afterwards, i saw the empress come into my room. she sent for my mother, and they retired to my dressing-room, where they had a long and private conversation; after which they returned into my bed-room, and i saw that my mother's eyes were red and filled with tears. from the sequence of the conversation i understood that they had been talking about the death of the emperor charles vii, of the house of bavaria, the news of which had just reached the empress. her majesty was then without alliance, and she hesitated between prussia and the house of austria, each of which had their partisans. she had the same complaint against austria as against france, towards which the king of prussia leaned, for the marquis de botta, the minister of the court of vienna had been sent away from russia for speaking against the empress--an act which at the time it was sought to represent as a conspiracy. the marquis de la chétardie had been similarly dismissed for the same reasons. i do not know what was the object of this conversation, but my mother seemed to conceive great hopes from it, and went away very well satisfied. as for me, i was in all this simply a spectator, and one, too, very passive, very discreet, and pretty nearly indifferent. after easter, when the spring had fully set in, i expressed to the countess roumianzoff the desire i had to learn to ride, and she obtained the consent of the empress. i had begun to have pains in the chest at the commencement of the year, after the pleurisy i had had in moscow, and i was still very thin. the doctors ordered me milk and seltzer water every morning. it was at roumianzoff house, in the barracks of the ismaïlofsky regiment, that i took my first lesson in riding. i had already ridden several times at moscow, but very badly. in the month of may, the empress, with the grand duke, went to occupy the summer palace. to my mother and i had been assigned a stone building, by the side of the fontanka, close to the house of peter i. my mother occupied one side of this building, and i the other. here ended all the assiduities of the grand duke; he told me quite plainly, and through a servant, that he now lived too far off to come and see me often. i fully perceived his want of interest, and how little i was cared for. my self-esteem and vanity grieved in silence, but i was too proud to complain. i should have thought myself degraded if any one had shown me a friendship which i could have taken for pity. nevertheless, i shed tears when alone, then quietly dried them up, and went to romp with my maids. my mother also treated me with great coldness and ceremony, but i never missed visiting her several times during the day. at heart i felt very sad, but i took care not to speak of this. however, mademoiselle joukoff one day perceived my tears, and spoke to me on the subject. i gave her the best reasons i could, without however giving her the true ones. i laboured more earnestly than before to gain the affection of every one. great or small, i neglected no one, but laid it down to myself as a rule to believe that i stood in need of every one, and so to act in consequence as to obtain the good will of all; and i succeeded in doing so. after some days' stay in the summer palace, where people began to speak of the preparations for my marriage, the court removed to peterhoff, where it was more concentrated than in the city. the empress and the grand duke occupied the upper portion of the house built by peter i; my mother and i were beneath, in the apartments of the grand duke. we dined with him every day, under a tent, upon the open gallery adjoining his apartments; he supped with us. the empress was often absent, moving about among her different country residences. we were out a good deal, walking, riding, or driving. i then saw as clear as day, that the persons about the grand duke had lost all credit with him, and all control over him. the military games, which he formerly carried on in private, he now enacted almost in their presence. count brummer and his head master scarcely ever saw him, except to follow him in public. the rest of his time was literally passed, in the company of his valets, in acts of childishness unheard of at his age, for he played at puppets. my mother took advantage of the absences of the empress to go and sup at the neighbouring mansions, and especially at that of the prince and princess of hesse-homburg. one evening when she had ridden out there, i was sitting, after supper, in my room, which was on a level with the garden, one of the doors leading into it, when i felt tempted by the fine weather. i proposed to my maids and my three ladies of honour to take a walk in the garden; and i had no great trouble in persuading them. we were eight, and my valet, who made nine, followed us with two other valets. we walked about till midnight in the most innocent manner possible. my mother having returned, mademoiselle schenck, who had refused to accompany us, and grumbled at our project, was in a great hurry to tell her that i had gone out against her advice. my mother went to bed, and when i got back with my troop, mademoiselle schenck told me, with an air of triumph, that my mother had sent twice to inquire if i had returned, as she wished to speak to me; but that as it was very late, and she tired of waiting, she had gone to bed. i would have instantly gone to her, but i found the door closed. i told schenck that she might have had me called. she pretended that she had not been able to find us; but this was a mere story to make a quarrel, and get me scolded; i saw this clearly, and went to bed with a good deal of uneasiness. the following day, as soon as i awoke, i went to my mother and found her in bed. i approached to kiss her hand, but she angrily withdrew it, and gave me a dreadful scolding for having dared to walk out at night without her permission. i said she was not at home; but she replied that the hour was improper, and said all sorts of disagreeable things, for the purpose, seemingly, of giving me a distaste for nocturnal promenades. this, however, is certain, that although this walk may have been an imprudence, nothing could have been more innocent. what most distressed me was, that she accused me of having gone up to the apartments of the grand duke. i replied that this was an abominable calumny, at which she became so enraged that she seemed out of herself. it was in vain that i went on my knees to soothe her irritation. she treated my submission as acting, and ordered me out of the room. i retired to my own apartments in tears. at dinner-time i ascended with her, she still being very angry, to the apartments of the grand duke, who inquired what was the matter, as my eyes were very red. i told him exactly what had happened. this time he took my part, and accused my mother of being capricious and passionate. i begged him not to speak to her on the subject, which request he complied with, and by degrees her anger wore off; but i was always treated very coldly. we left peterhoff at the end of july, and returned to the city, where all was preparation for the approaching marriage. at last the empress fixed the st of august for the ceremony. as the day came nearer, i became more and more melancholy. my heart predicted but little happiness; ambition alone sustained me. in my inmost soul there was a something which never allowed me to doubt for a single moment that sooner or later i should become the sovereign empress of russia in my own right. the marriage was celebrated with much pomp and magnificence. in the evening i found in my room madame krause, sister of the head lady's-maid to the empress, who had placed her with me as my head lady's-maid. from the very next day i found that this person had thrown all my other women into consternation, for on approaching one of them to speak to her, as usual, she said to me, "in god's name, do not come near me; we have been forbidden to whisper to you." on the other hand, my beloved spouse did not trouble himself in the slightest degree about me, but was constantly with his valets, playing at soldiers, exercising them in his room, or changing his uniform twenty times a-day. i yawned, and grew weary, having no one to speak to; or i endeavoured to keep up appearances. on the third day after my marriage, the countess roumianzoff sent me word that the empress had dispensed with her attendance on me, and that she was going to return home to her husband and children. this did not grieve me much, for she had been the cause of a great deal of scandal. the marriage festivities lasted ten days, at the end of which the grand duke and myself took up our residence in the summer palace, where the empress was living; and the departure of my mother was beginning to be talked of. since my marriage i did not see her every day; but she had very much softened towards me. about the latter end of september she took her departure, the grand duke and i accompanying her as far as krasnoe-selo. i was sincerely afflicted, and wept a great deal. after taking leave of her we returned to the city. on reaching the palace i called for mademoiselle joukoff. i was told that she had gone to see her mother who was ill. the next day i put the same question, and received the same answer. about noon the empress passed with great pomp from the summer to the winter palace. we followed her to her apartments. having reached the state bed-room she stopped, and, after some casual remarks, spoke of my mother's departure, and told me, with apparent kindness, to moderate my grief. but i thought i should have dropped when she said, in the presence of some thirty people, that at my mother's request she had dismissed from my service mademoiselle joukoff, because my mother feared i might become too much attached to a person who so little deserved my favour; and then her majesty spoke very pointedly against the poor girl. i certainly was no way edified with this scene, nor convinced of what her majesty advanced; but i was deeply afflicted at the misfortune of poor joukoff, dismissed from court solely because, from her sociable disposition, she suited me better than my other women. "for why," as i said to myself, "was she placed with me if she was not worthy?" my mother could not know her, could not even speak to her, as she did not understand russian, the only language with which joukoff was acquainted; she could only have been guided by the silly remarks of schenck, who scarcely possessed common sense. this girl suffers for me, i said to myself; i must not, therefore, abandon her in her misfortune, of which my affection has been the sole cause. i have never been able to learn whether or not my mother really had requested the empress to dismiss this person from my service; if so, she must have preferred violent measures to those of mildness, for she never opened her lips to me in reference to the girl; and yet a single word from her would have been sufficient to put me on my guard, at least, against an attachment in itself very innocent. the empress, also, might have acted with less austerity. the girl was young: it was only necessary to have found a suitable match for her, which might easily have been done; but instead of this they acted in the manner i have mentioned. the empress having dismissed us, the grand duke and i proceeded to our own apartments. on our way, i perceived that her majesty had already acquainted her nephew with what she had done. i stated to him my objections on the subject, and made him understand that this girl was unfortunate solely because it was supposed that i had a liking for her; and that since she was suffering on account of my affection, i thought myself justified in not abandoning her, as far, at all events, as depended on myself. in fact, i immediately sent her some money, through my valet; but he informed me that she had already departed for moscow with her mother and sister. i ordered what i had destined for her to be sent through her brother, who was a sergeant in the guards. i learnt that he also, together with his wife, had been ordered away, and that he had been placed as an officer in a country regiment. at the present time i am scarcely able to give any plausible explanation of these things; it seems to me like doing wrong gratis, and from mere caprice, without a shadow of reason, or even of pretext. but matters did not stop even here. through my valet and my other attendants, i endeavoured to find for mademoiselle joukoff a suitable match. one was proposed to me: it was a sergeant in the guards, a gentleman of some property, named travin. he went to moscow to marry her, provided she suited him. he did marry her, and was made lieutenant in a country regiment. as soon as the empress heard of this, she banished them both to astracan. it is difficult to find a reason for such persecution. at the winter palace, the grand duke and i occupied the apartments which we had previously used; those of the duke were separated from mine by an immense staircase, which also led to the apartments of the empress. in going to him, or in his coming to me, it was necessary to cross the landing of this staircase--not the pleasantest thing in the world, especially in winter. nevertheless, we made the passage several times a-day. in the evening, i went to play at billiards in his ante-chamber with the chamberlain berkholz, while he romped with his gentlemen in the other room. my party at billiards was interrupted by the retirement of brummer and berkholz, whom the empress dismissed from attendance on the grand duke, at the end of the winter of . this winter was passed in masquerades given at the principal houses in the city, which were then very small. the court and the whole town assisted at them regularly. the last of them was given by the master-general of the police, tatizcheff, in a house called smolnoy dvoretz, belonging to the empress. the centre portion of this wooden house had been destroyed by a fire; nothing remained but the wings, which were of two stories. one of these wings was set apart for dancing; but in order to go to supper, which was laid out in the other, it was necessary to pass, and this in the month of january, through the court-yard and the snow. after supper this journey had to be repeated. the grand duke returned home, and went to bed, but the next morning he awoke with a violent headache, which prevented him from rising. i sent for the doctors, who pronounced him in a burning fever of the most violent kind. he was carried in the evening from my bed to the audience-chamber, where, after being bled, he was placed in a bed arranged there for him. they bled him several times; he was very ill. the empress visited him frequently during the day, and seeing me in tears, she was pleased with me. one evening, while reading the night-prayers in a small oratory adjoining my dressing-room, madame ismaïloff came in. she was a person of whom the empress was very fond, and she informed me that her majesty, knowing i was much afflicted by the illness of the duke, had sent her to tell me not to be cast down, but to put my trust in god, and that whatever happened she would not forsake me. she then asked me what i was reading; i told her the prayers for night, and she said i should hurt my eyes by reading such small print by candle-light. i then begged her to thank her imperial majesty for her goodness towards me, and we parted very affectionately, she to give an account of her mission, i to go to bed. next day the empress sent me a prayer-book printed in large type, in order to preserve my eyes, she said. although the room in which the grand duke was placed adjoined mine, i never entered it except when i felt that i should not be in the way, for i saw that he did not care much to have me there, but preferred being with his attendants, who, on the other hand, did not much suit me. besides, i was not much accustomed to pass my time alone among a set of men. meanwhile, lent came round. i went to my duty (_fis mes dévotions_)[ ] the first week. generally speaking, i was inclined to devotion at that period. i saw plainly that the grand duke cared little about me. a fortnight after our marriage he confessed to me again that he was in love with mademoiselle carr, maid of honour to her imperial majesty, since married to a prince galitzine, equery to the empress. he told count devier,[ ] his chamberlain, that there was no comparison between that lady and me. devier maintained the contrary, and the duke got angry with him. this scene took place almost in my presence, and i witnessed their contest. surely, i said to myself, it would be impossible for me not to be unhappy with such a man as this, were i to give way to sentiments of tenderness thus requited. i might die of jealousy without benefit to any one. i endeavoured therefore to master my feelings, so as not to be jealous of a man who did not love me. had he wished to be loved, i should have found no difficulty in loving him. i was naturally well disposed, and accustomed to fulfil my duties; but then, too, i should have required a husband who had common sense, which this one had not. i had abstained[ ] (_fait maigre_) during the first week of lent. on the saturday, the empress sent me word that it would give her pleasure if i abstained during the second week also. i replied that i begged her majesty would permit me to abstain during the entire lent. sievers, marshal of the court to the empress, a son-in-law to madame krause, who was the bearer of this message, told me that the empress was greatly pleased with my request, and that she granted it. when the grand duke learned that i continued to abstain, he scolded me a good deal; but i told him i could not do otherwise. after he had got well, he still feigned illness in order not to leave his room, where he found more congenial amusement than in the formal life of the court. he did not quit it till the last week of lent, when he went to his duty. after easter, he had a marionette theatre set up in his room, and invited company to see it, and even ladies. this show was the most insipid thing imaginable. the room in which it was set up had a door which was fastened up, in consequence of its leading into one of the empress' apartments. in this apartment there was a mechanical table, which could be lowered and raised so as to admit of dining without servants. one day, while the grand duke was in his room preparing his so-called theatricals, he heard people talking in this room beyond, and, with his usual inconsiderate vivacity, he took up from his theatre one of those carpenters' tools used for making holes in boards, and set to work boring holes in this condemned door, so that he could see all that passed within, and among other things, the dinner which the empress was then taking there. the master of the hounds, count razoumowsky, in a brocaded dressing-gown, dined with her--he had taken medicine that day--and there were, besides, some dozen persons of those most in the confidence of the empress. the grand duke, not content with enjoying the fruit of his skilful labour himself, must needs call all who were about him to share in the pleasure of looking through the holes which he had bored with so much diligence. when all were fully satisfied with this indiscreet pleasure, he came and invited madame krause, myself, and my maids, to go to his room and see something which we had never seen before. he did not tell us what it was, doubtless to give us an agreeable surprise. as i did not hurry myself sufficiently to gratify his impatience, he led away madame krause and my women. i arrived last, and found them stationed in front of this door, where he had placed benches, chairs, and stools, for the accommodation of the spectators, as he said. on entering, i asked what all this was about. he ran to meet me, and told me what the case was. i was terrified and indignant at his rashness, and told him i would neither look nor have anything to do with this impropriety, which would certainly bring him into trouble if his aunt should come to hear of it, and this she could not well help doing, seeing that there were at least twenty persons in his secret. all who had allowed themselves to look through the door, finding that i would not do the same, began to file off one after the other. the duke himself became ashamed of what he had done, and recommenced working on his theatre. i returned to my room. up to the sunday, we heard nothing of this affair; but on that day it happened, i hardly know how, that i got to mass rather later than usual. on returning to my room, i was about taking off my court dress, when i saw the empress enter with a flushed and angry look. as she had not been at the chapel mass, but had heard mass in her private oratory, i went to meet her, to kiss her hand as usual, as i had not seen her before that day. she kissed me, desired the grand duke to be sent for, and, while waiting for him, scolded me for being late at mass, and preferring my own adornment to the service of god. she added that in the time of the empress anne, though not living at court, but in a house at some distance from the palace, she had never failed in her duties, but often got up by candle-light for this purpose. then she sent for the valet de chambre who dressed my hair, and told him that for the future, if he was so slow in dressing my hair, she would have him dismissed. when she had ended with him, the grand duke, who had undressed in his own room, entered in his dressing-gown, with his night cap in his hand, and with a gay and careless air. he ran to kiss the hand of the empress, who embraced him, and then asked him how he had dared to act in the manner he had done, adding that she had gone into the room which contained the mechanical table, and found the door all pierced with holes, all these holes being directed towards the place where she usually sat; that he seemed to have forgotten what he owed her; that she could no longer consider him as anything but an ungrateful person; that her father, peter i., had also an ungrateful son, and that he punished him by disinheriting him; that, in the time of the empress anne, she had never failed in giving her the respect due to a crowned head, anointed of the lord; that the empress anne did not understand jokes, but sent to the fortress those who were wanting in respect; that as for him, he was but a little boy, and she would teach him how to behave. at this he began to get angry, and would have answered her, stammering out a few words to this effect, but she commanded him to be silent, and became so excited that her anger knew no bounds, as was usually the case when she got into a passion. she loaded him with insults, and said all sorts of shocking things, treating him with as much contempt as anger. we were thunderstruck, and although this scene did not refer directly to me, yet tears came into my eyes. she perceived this, and said to me, "this does not apply to you; i know that you had nothing to do with this act, and that you neither looked nor wished to look through the door." this remark, which was correct, calmed her a little, and she stopped; besides, it would have been difficult for her to have gone farther than she had done. she then wished us good morning, and retired, with a flushed face and flashing eyes. the grand duke went to his room, and i undressed in silence, ruminating on what i had heard. when i had done, the duke returned, and said to me--in a tone half sheepish, half comical--"she was like a fury, and did not know what she said." "she was dreadfully angry," i replied. we talked over the matter, and then dined in my room, quite alone. when the grand duke had gone to his own apartments, madame krause entered my room. "it must be acknowledged," she said, "that the empress has acted like a true mother to-day." i saw she wished to make me talk, and therefore i said nothing. she continued: "a mother gets angry, scolds her children, and there the matter ends; you ought both of you to have said to her, _i beg your pardon, madame_, and you would have disarmed her." i said i was astounded and petrified by her majesty's anger, and all i could do at the moment was to listen and be silent. she then left me, probably to make her report. as for me, the "_i beg your pardon, madame_," as a means of disarming the anger of the empress, remained in my head; and i have since used it with success, when occasion required, as will be seen in the sequel. some time before the empress had relieved count brummer and the great chamberlain from attendance on the grand duke, i happened one day to go earlier than usual into the ante-chamber. the count was there alone, and seized the occasion to speak to me. he begged and entreated me to go every day to the empress' dressing-room, as my mother, at leaving, had obtained permission for me to do; a privilege of which i had made very little use hitherto, as it was a prerogative which wearied me excessively. i had gone once or twice, and found there the empress' women, who retired by degrees, so that i was left alone. i told him this. he said it was of no consequence, i ought to continue. but i could not understand this courtier-like perseverance. it might answer his views, but it did not at all suit me to be kept standing in the empress' dressing-room, and be, besides, an inconvenience to her. i stated to him my repugnance, but he did everything to persuade me, though without success. i was much better pleased to be in my own rooms, especially when madame krause was not there. i had discovered in her this winter a very decided propensity for drink, and as she soon after got her daughter married to the marshal of the court, sievers, she either was out a good deal, or my people contrived to make her tipsy, when she went to sleep, and my room was delivered from this surly argus. count brummer and the grand chamberlain berkholz having been relieved from their duties about the prince, the empress named as his attendant general prince basil repnine. a better appointment could not have been made, for prince repnine was not only a man of honour and probity, he was also a man of talent, a very worthy man, candid and straightforward. for my own-self, i had every reason to be satisfied with the conduct of prince repnine. for count brummer i felt no regret; he wearied me with his eternal politics, he smelt of intrigue; while the frank and soldier-like character of prince repnine inspired me with confidence. as for the grand duke, he was delighted to get rid of his pedagogues, whom he hated. in quitting him, however, they left him with no slight anxiety at finding himself at the mercy of the intrigues of count bestoujeff, who was the prime mover in all these changes, made under the plausible pretext of the majority of his imperial highness in his duchy of holstein. prince augustus, my uncle, was still at st. petersburg, watching the administration of the grand duke's hereditary territory. in the month of may we moved to the summer palace. at the end of the month the empress placed with me, as chief housekeeper, madame tchoglokoff, one of her maids of honour, and her relative. this was a thunderbolt for me. this lady was altogether in the interest of count bestoujeff, extremely silly, spiteful, capricious, and very selfish. her husband, chamberlain to the empress, was then gone on some sort of mission from her majesty to vienna. i wept a great deal on seeing her arrive, and all the rest of the day. i was to be bled on the following day. in the morning the empress came to my room, and seeing my eyes red, said to me that young women who did not love their husbands were always crying; that my mother, however, had assured her i had no repugnance to marrying the grand duke; that, besides, she had not forced me; that, as i was married, i must not cry any more. i remembered the instructions of madame krause, and said to her, _i beg your pardon, madame_, and she was appeased. meanwhile the grand duke came in, and this time the empress received him very graciously, and then went away. i was bled, and indeed i required it; i then went to bed, and wept the whole day. the next day, the grand duke drew me aside in the course of the afternoon, and i saw clearly that they had given him to understand that madame tchoglokoff had been placed with me because i did not love him. but i cannot understand how they expected to increase my attachment for him by giving me that woman; and so i told him. as to placing her with me as an argus, that was a different matter. but if this was their object, they ought to have chosen some one less stupid; and, besides, it was not necessary for this purpose to be spiteful and malevolent. madame tchoglokoff was thought to be extremely virtuous, because she loved her husband to adoration. she had married him for love: so excellent an example placed before me would perhaps persuade me to imitate it. we shall see how far the experiment was successful. in all probability, it was the circumstance which i am about to relate which precipitated this arrangement. i say precipitated, because i believe that, from the beginning, count bestoujeff had it in view to surround us with his creatures. he would gladly have done the same in the case of the empress also, but that was not so easy. the grand duke, at the time i arrived in moscow, had in his service three domestics named czernicheff, all three sons of grenadiers in the bodyguard of the empress. their fathers held the rank of lieutenant, which they received as a recompense for having aided in placing the empress on the throne. the oldest of the czernicheffs was cousin to the two others, who were brothers. the grand duke was very fond of all three. they were the persons most in his confidence, and were really very useful. all three were tall and well made, especially the oldest. the duke made use of him in all his commissions, and several times in the day he sent him to me. he it was, too, whom the duke made his confidant when he did not care to come to me. this man was on very intimate and friendly terms with my valet yevreinoff, and through this channel i often knew things which i should otherwise have been ignorant of. besides, both of them were attached to me heart and soul, and i often obtained information from them, on a variety of matters, which it would have been difficult to have procured otherwise. i do not know in reference to what it was that the oldest of the czernicheffs said one day to the grand duke, "she is not my intended, but yours." this expression made the grand duke laugh. he related it to me, and from that time it pleased his imperial highness, when speaking to me, to call me his intended, and andrew czernicheff your intended. after our marriage andrew czernicheff, to put a stop to this badinage, proposed to his imperial highness to call me his mother, and i, on my part, called him my son. now between the grand duke and myself there was always some reference to this son, for he was excessively attached to the man; and i also liked him very much. my servants were greatly disturbed on this account; some through jealousy, others from apprehension of the consequences which might result both for them and for us. one day when there was a masked ball at court, and i had gone to my room to change my dress, my valet timothy yevreinoff took me aside, and told me that he and all my servants were terrified at the danger into which he saw me plunging. i asked him what he meant. he said, "you speak of nothing and think of nothing but andrew czernicheff." "well," i said, in the innocence of my heart, "what harm is there in that? he is my son. the grand duke likes him as much and more than i do; and he is devoted and faithful to us." "yes," he replied, "that is all very true; the grand duke can do as he pleases; but you have not the same right. what you call kindness and attachment, because this man is faithful and serves you, your people call love." the utterance of this word, which had never once occurred to me, was a thunderbolt; first, on account of the opinion of my servants, which i called rash; secondly, on account of the condition in which i had placed myself, without being aware of it. he told me that he had advised his friend czernicheff to pretend illness in order to put an end to these remarks. this advice czernicheff followed, and his feigned illness lasted pretty nearly to the month of april. the grand duke was much concerned about him, and spoke of him continually to me. he had not the slightest suspicion of the real circumstances. at the summer palace andrew czernicheff again made his appearance. i could no longer meet him without embarrassment. meanwhile the empress had thought proper to make a new arrangement with the servants of the court. they were to serve in turn in all the rooms, and andrew czernicheff like the rest. the grand duke often had concerts in the afternoon, and he himself played the violin at them. during one of these concerts, which usually wearied me, i went to my own room. this opened into the great hall of the summer palace, which was then filled with scaffoldings, as they were painting the ceiling. the empress was absent; madame krause had gone to her daughter's, madame sievers; and i did not find a soul in my room. from _ennui_ i opened the door of the hall, and saw at the other end andrew czernicheff. i made a sign to him to approach; he came to the door, though with much apprehension. i asked him if the empress would return soon. he said, "i cannot speak to you; they make too much noise in the hall; let me come into your room." i replied, "that i will not do." he was outside the door and i within, holding the door half open as i spoke to him. an involuntary impulse made me turn my head in the direction opposite to the door at which i stood, and i saw behind me at the other door of my dressing-room, the chamberlain, count divier, who said to me, "the grand duke wishes to see you, madam." i closed the door of the hall, and returned with count divier to the apartment where the grand duke was giving his concert. i have since learnt that count divier was a kind of reporter employed as such, like many others about me. the following day, which was sunday, after mass, we learnt--that is, the grand duke and i--that the three czernicheffs had been placed as lieutenants in the regiments stationed near orenburg; and in the afternoon of this day madame tchoglokoff was placed with me. a few days afterwards, we received orders to prepare to accompany the empress to reval. at the same time, madame tchoglokoff told me from her majesty that, for the future, her imperial majesty would dispense with my coming to her dressing-room, and that if i had any communication to make to her it must not be made through any one but madame tchoglokoff. in my own mind, i was delighted with this order, which relieved me from the necessity of being kept standing among the empress' women; besides, i seldom went to her dressing-room, and then but rarely saw her. during the whole time that i had been going there i had not seen her more than three or four times, and, generally speaking, whenever i went, her women quitted the room one after the other. not to be left there alone, i seldom stayed long either. in the month of june the empress set out for reval, and we accompanied her. the grand duke and i travelled in a carriage for four persons; prince augustus and madame tchoglokoff made up its complement. our plan of travelling was neither agreeable nor convenient. the post-houses or stations were occupied by the empress; we were accommodated in tents or in the outhouses. i remember that on one occasion, during this journey, i dressed near the oven where the bread had just been baked; and that another time, when i entered the tent where my bed was placed, there was water in it up to the ankle. besides all this, the empress had no fixed hour, either for setting out or stopping, for meals or repose. we were all, masters and servants, strangely harassed. after ten or twelve days' march, we reached an estate belonging to count steinbock, forty verstes from reval. from this place the empress departed in great state, wishing to reach catherinthal in the evening; but somehow it happened that the journey was prolonged till half-past one in the morning. during the entire journey, from st. petersburg to reval, madame tchoglokoff was the torment of our carriage. to the simplest thing that was said, she would reply, "such a remark would displease her majesty;" or, "such a thing would not be approved of by her majesty." it was sometimes to the most innocent and indifferent matters that she attached these etiquettes. as for me, i made up my mind, and during the whole journey slept continually while in the carriage. from the day after our arrival at catherinthal, the court recommenced its ordinary round of occupations; that is to say, from morning till night, and far into the night, gambling, and for rather high stakes, was carried on in the ante-chamber of the empress, a hall which divided the house and its two stories into two sections. madame tchoglokoff was a gambler; she induced me to play at faro like the rest. all the favourites of the empress were ordinarily fixed here when they did not happen to be in her majesty's room, or rather tent, for she had erected a very large and magnificent tent at the side of her apartments, which were on the ground floor, and very small, as was usually the case with the structures of peter i. he had built this country residence, and planted the garden. the prince and princess repnine, who were of the party, and were aware of the arrogant and senseless conduct of madame tchoglokoff during the journey, persuaded me to speak of it to the countess schouvaloff and madame ismaïloff, the ladies most in her majesty's favour. these ladies had no love for madame tchoglokoff, and they had already learnt what had happened. the little countess schouvaloff, who was indiscretion itself, did not wait for me to speak to her, but happening to be seated by my side at play, she introduced the subject herself, and, being very humorous, she placed the whole conduct of madame tchoglokoff in such a ridiculous light, that she soon made her the laughing-stock of every one. she did more; she related to the empress all that had passed. it would seem as if madame tchoglokoff had received a reproof, for she lowered her tone very considerably with me. indeed, there was much need of this being done, for i began to feel a great tendency to melancholy. i felt totally isolated. the grand duke, at reval, took a passing fancy for a madame cédéraparre. as usual, he did not fail to confide the matter to me immediately. i had frequent pains in the chest, and at catherinthal a spitting of blood, for which i was bled. on the afternoon of that day, madame tchoglokoff came to my room, and found me in tears. with a countenance greatly softened, she asked me what was the matter, and proposed to me, on the part of the empress, to take a walk in the garden, to dissipate my hopochondria, as she said. that day the grand duke had gone to hunt with the master of the hounds, count razoumowsky. she also placed in my hands, as a present from her imperial majesty, roubles, for playing at faro. the ladies had noticed that i was without money, and told the empress. i begged madame tchoglokoff to thank her majesty for her goodness, and then went with her for a walk in the garden. some days after our arrival at catherinthal, the high chancellor, count bestoujeff, arrived, accompanied by the imperial ambassador, the baron preyslain, and we learned, by the tenor of his congratulations, that the two imperial courts had just become united by a treaty of alliance. in consequence of this, the empress went to see her fleet manoeuvre; but, except the smoke of the cannons, we saw nothing. the day was excessively hot, and the sea perfectly calm. on returning from this manoeuvre, there was a ball in the empress' tents, which were erected on the terrace. the supper was spread in the open air, around a basin intended for a fountain; but scarcely had her majesty taken her seat, when there came on a shower which wetted the entire company, forcing it to disperse and seek shelter, as best it could, in the houses and in the tents. thus ended this _fête_. some days afterwards the empress departed for roguervick. the fleet manoeuvred there also, and again we saw nothing but smoke. in this journey we all suffered very much in our feet. the soil of the place is a rock, covered with a thick bed of pebbles, of such a nature that if one stood for a short time in the same spot, the feet would sink in and the pebbles cover them. we encamped here for several days, and were forced to walk, in passing from tent to tent, and in our tents, upon this ground. for more than four months afterwards my feet were sore in consequence. the convicts who worked at the pier wore sabots, and even these seldom lasted beyond eight or ten days. the imperial ambassador had followed her majesty to this port. he dined there and supped with her half-way between roguervick and reval. during this supper an old woman, who had reached the age of years, was led before the empress. she looked like a walking skeleton. the empress sent her meat from her own table, as well as money, and we continued our journey. on our return to catherinthal, madame tchoglokoff had the satisfaction of finding there her husband, who had returned from his mission to vienna. many of the court equipages had already taken the road for riga, whither the empress intended to go. but on her return from roguervick she suddenly changed her mind. many people tormented their brains, in vain, to discover the cause of this change. several years afterwards it came to light. when m. tchoglokoff was passing through riga, a lutheran priest, a madman or a fanatic, placed in his hands a letter and a memorial addressed to the empress, in which he exhorted her not to undertake this journey, as if she did she would incur the most imminent risk; that there were people posted in ambush by the enemies of the empire for the purpose of killing her, and such like absurdities. these writings, being delivered to the empress, left her in no humour for travelling farther. as for the priest, he was found to be mad; but the journey did not take place. we returned by short stages from reval to st. petersburg. i caught in this journey a severe sore throat, which compelled me to keep my bed for several days; after which we went to peterhoff, and thence made weekly excursions to oranienbaum. at the beginning of august the empress sent word to the grand duke and myself that we ought to go to our duty. we both complied with her wishes, and immediately began to have matins and vespers sung in our apartments, and to go to mass every day. on the friday, when we were to go to confession, the cause of this order became apparent. simon theodorsky, bishop of pleskov, questioned us both a great deal, and each separately, respecting what had passed between the czernicheffs and us. but as nothing whatever had passed, he looked a little foolish when he heard it asserted, with the candour of innocence, that there was not even the shadow of what people had dared to suppose. he was so far thrown off his guard as to say to me, "but how then is it that the empress has been impressed to the contrary?" to which i replied, that i really did not know. i suppose our confessor communicated our confession to the empress' confessor, and that the latter retailed it to her majesty--a thing which certainly could do us no harm. we communicated on the saturday, and on the monday went for a week to oranienbaum, while the empress made an excursion to zarskoe-selo. on arriving at oranienbaum the grand duke enlisted all his suite. the chamberlains, the gentlemen of the bed-chamber, the officers of the court, the adjutants of prince repnine, and even his son, the servants, the huntsmen, the gardeners, every one, in fact, had to shoulder his musket. his imperial highness exercised them every day, and made them mount guard, the corridor of the house serving as a guard-room, and here they passed the day. for their meals the gentlemen went up stairs, and in the evening they came into the hall to dance in gaiters. as for ladies there were only myself, madame tchoglokoff, the princess repnine, my three maids of honour, and my lady's-maids; consequently the ball was very meagre and badly managed, the men harassed and in bad humour with these continual military exercises, which did not suit the taste of courtiers. after the ball they were allowed to go home to sleep. generally speaking, we were all dreadfully tired of the dull life we led at oranienbaum, where we were, five or six women, all to ourselves; while the men, on their side, were engaged in unwilling exercises. i had recourse to the books i had brought with me. since my marriage i read a great deal. the first book i read after my marriage was a novel called tiran the fair (tiran le blanc), and for a whole year i read nothing but novels. but i began to tire of these. i stumbled by accident upon the letters of madame de sévigné, and was much interested by them. when i had devoured these, the works of voltaire fell into my hands. after reading them, i selected my books with more care. we returned to peterhoff, and after two or three journeys backwards and forwards, between that place and oranienbaum, with the same amusements, we finally got back to st. petersburg, and took up our residence in the summer palace. at the close of autumn the empress passed to the winter palace, where she occupied our apartments of the previous year; while we moved into those occupied by the grand duke before our marriage. these we liked very much, and, indeed, they were very convenient. they were those used by the empress anne. every evening the members of our court assembled in our apartments, and we amused ourselves with all kinds of small games, or we had a concert. twice a-week there was a performance at the great theatre, which at that time was opposite the church of kasan. in a word, this winter was one of the gayest and best managed i have ever spent. we literally did nothing but laugh and romp the whole day. about the middle of the winter, the empress sent us word to follow her to tichvine, where she was going. it was a journey of devotion; but just as we were about to enter our sledges, we learnt that the journey was put off. it was whispered to us that the master of the hounds, count razoumowsky, had got a fit of the gout, and that her majesty did not wish to go without him. about two or three weeks afterwards we did start. the journey lasted only five days, when we returned. in passing through ribatchia slobodk, and by the house where i knew the czernicheffs were, i tried to see them through the windows, but i could see nothing. prince repnine was not in the party during this journey; we were told that he had the gravel. the husband of madame tchoglokoff took his place on the occasion, and this was not the most agreeable arrangement in the world for most of us. he was an arrogant and brutal fool; everybody feared him, and his wife as well; and indeed, they were both mischievous and dangerous characters. however, there were means, as will be seen in the sequel, not only of lulling these arguses to sleep, but even of gaining them over. at that time these means had not been discovered. one of the surest was to play at faro with them; they were both eager players, and very selfish ones. this weak point was the one first perceived; the others came afterwards. during this winter, the princess gagarine, maid of honour, died of a burning fever, just as she was to be married to the chamberlain prince galitzine, who subsequently married her younger sister. i regretted her very much, and during her illness i went several times to see her, notwithstanding the representations of madame tchoglokoff. the empress replaced her by her elder sister, since married to count matiuschkine. she was then at moscow, and was sent for accordingly. in the spring, we went to the summer palace, and thence to the country. prince repnine, under the pretext of bad health, received permission to retire to his own house, and m. tchoglokoff continued to discharge his functions in the interim. he first signalized himself by the dismissal from our court of count divier, who was placed as brigadier in the army, and of the gentleman of the bedchamber villebois, who was sent there as colonel. these changes were made at the instigation of tchoglokoff, who looked on both with an evil eye, because he saw that we thought well of them. a similar dismissal had taken place in , in the case of count zachar czernicheff, sent away at the request of my mother. still these removals were always considered at court as disgraces, and they were therefore sensibly felt by the individuals. the grand duke and myself were much annoyed with this latter one. prince augustus, too, having obtained all he had asked for, was told from the empress that he must now leave. this also was a manoeuvre of the tchoglokoffs, who were bent upon completely isolating us. in this they followed the instructions of count bestoujeff, who was suspicious of everybody. during this summer, having nothing better to do, and everything being very dull at home, i took a passion for riding; the rest of my time i spent in my room, reading everything that came in my way. as for the grand duke, as they had taken from him the people he liked best, he chose other favourites among the servants of the court. during this interval, my valet yevreinoff, while dressing my hair one day, told me that by a strange accident he had discovered that andrew czernicheff and his brothers were at ribatchia, under arrest, in a pleasure-house, which was the private property of the empress, who had inherited it from her mother. it was thus that the discovery was made:--during the carnival, yevreinoff went out for a drive, having his wife and sister-in-law with him in the sledge, and the two brothers-in-law behind. the sister's husband was secretary to the magistrate of st. petersburg, and had a sister married to an under-secretary of the secret chancery. they went for a walk one day to ribatchia, and called on the man who had charge of this estate of the empress. a dispute arose about the feast of easter, as to what day it would fall on. the host said that he would soon end the controversy by asking the prisoners for a book called swiatzj, which contained all the feasts, together with the calendar, for several years. in a few minutes he brought it in. the brother-in-law of yevreinoff took the book, and the first thing he saw, on opening it, was that andrew czernicheff had put his name in it, with the date of the day on which he had received it from the grand duke. after this he looked for the feast of easter. the dispute being ended, the book was sent back, and they returned to st. petersburg, where some days later, the brother-in-law of yevreinoff confided to him the discovery he had made. yevreinoff entreated me not to mention the matter to the grand duke, as his discretion was not at all to be relied on. i promised him that i would not, and kept my word. about the middle of lent, we went with the empress to gostilitza, to celebrate the feast-day of the master of the hounds, count razoumowsky. we danced, and were tolerably well amused, and then returned to town. a few days afterwards, the death of my father was announced to me. it greatly afflicted me. for a week i was allowed to weep as much as i pleased, but at the end of that time, madame tchoglokoff came to tell me that i had wept enough; that the empress ordered me to leave off; that my father was not a king. i told her i knew that he was not a king, and she replied that it was not suitable for a grand duchess to mourn for a longer period a father who had not been a king. in fine, it was arranged that i should go out on the following sunday, and wear mourning for six weeks. the first day i left my room, i found count santi, grand master of ceremonies to the empress, in her majesty's ante-chamber. i addressed a few casual remarks to him, and passed on. some days later, madame tchoglokoff came to tell me that her majesty had learned from count bestoujeff--to whom santi had given the information in writing--that i had told him (santi) i thought it very strange that the ambassadors had not offered their condolences to me on the occasion of my father's death; that her majesty considered my remarks to count santi very uncalled for; that i was too proud; that i ought to remember that my father was not a king, and therefore that i could not and must not expect to receive the condolences of the foreign ministers. i was astounded at this speech. i told madame tchoglokoff that, if count santi had said or written that i had spoken to him a single word having the least allusion to this subject, he was a notorious liar; that nothing of the kind had ever entered my mind; and therefore that i had not uttered a syllable to him or any one else in reference to it. this was the exact truth, for i had laid it down to myself as an invariable rule never, in any case, to make any pretensions, but to conform in everything to the wishes of the empress, and fulfil all her commands. it would seem that the ingenuousness with which i replied to madame tchoglokoff carried conviction to her mind, for she said she would not fail to tell the empress that i gave the lie to count santi. in fact, she went to her majesty, and came back to tell me that the empress was extremely angry with count santi for having uttered such a falsehood, and that she had ordered him to be reprimanded. some days afterwards, the count sent several persons to me, and among them the chamberlain, count nikita panine, and the vice-chancellor, woronzoff, to tell me that count bestoujeff had forced him to tell this falsehood, and that he was sorry to find himself in disgrace with me in consequence. i told these gentlemen that a liar was a liar, whatever might be his reasons for lying; and that, in order that count santi might not again mix me up with his falsehoods, i should never speak to him. here is what has occurred to me in reference to this matter: santi was an italian. he was fond of intermeddling, and attached much importance to his office of grand master of ceremonies. i had always spoken to him as i spoke to every one else. he thought, perhaps, that compliments of condolence on the part of the diplomatic corps might be admissible; and, judging by his own feelings, he probably considered that this would be a means of obliging me. he went then to count bestoujeff, the high chancellor, and his superior, and told him that i had appeared in public for the first time, and seemed very much affected; the omission of the condolences might have added to my grief. count bestoujeff, always carping, and delighted to have an opportunity of humbling me, had all that santi said or insinuated--and which he had ventured to support with my name--put into writing, and made him sign this protocol. santi, terribly afraid of his superior, and above all things dreading to lose his place, did not hesitate to sign a falsehood rather than sacrifice his means of existence. the high chancellor sent the note to the empress. she was annoyed to see my pretensions, and despatched madame tchoglokoff to me, as already mentioned. but having heard my reply, founded upon the exact truth, the only result was a slap in the face for his excellency the grand master of the ceremonies. in the country, the grand duke formed a pack of hounds, and began to train dogs himself. when tired of tormenting these, he set to work scraping on the violin. he did not know a note, but he had a good ear, and made the beauty of music consist in the force and violence with which he drew forth the tones of his instrument. those who had to listen to him, however, would often have been glad to stop their ears had they dared, for his music grated on them dreadfully. this course of life continued not only in the country, but also in town. on returning to the winter palace, madame krause--who had all along been an argus--moderated so far as often even to aid in deceiving the tchoglokoffs, who were hated by every one. she did more: she procured for the grand duke playthings--puppets, and such like childish toys, of which he was passionately fond. during the day, they were concealed within, or under my bed; the grand duke retired immediately after supper, and as soon as we were in bed madame krause locked the door, and then the grand duke played with his puppets till one or two o'clock in the morning. willing or unwilling, i was obliged to share in this interesting amusement; and so was madame krause. i often laughed, but more frequently felt annoyed, and even inconvenienced; the whole bed was covered and filled with playthings, some of which were rather heavy. i do not know whether madame tchoglokoff came to hear of these nocturnal amusements, but one night, about twelve o'clock, she knocked at the door of our bed room. we did not open it immediately, as the grand duke, myself, and madame krause were scrambling with all our might to gather up and conceal the toys: for this purpose the cover-lid of the bed answered very well, as we crammed them all in under it. this done, we opened the door. she complained dreadfully of having been kept waiting, and told us that the empress would be very angry when she learnt that we were not asleep at that hour. she then sulkily departed, without having made any further discovery. as soon as she was gone, the duke resumed his amusements until he became sleepy. at the commencement of autumn we again returned to the apartments which we had occupied after our marriage, in the winter palace. here, a very stringent order was issued by the empress through m. tchoglokoff, forbidding every one from entering either my apartments or those of the grand duke, without the express permission of m. and madame tchoglokoff. the ladies and gentlemen of our court were directed, under pain of dismissal, to keep in the ante-chamber, and not to pass the threshold, or speak to us--or even to the servants--otherwise than aloud. the grand duke and myself, thus compelled to sit looking at each other, murmured, and secretly interchanged thoughts relative to this species of imprisonment, which neither of us had deserved. to procure for himself more amusement during the winter, the duke had five or six hounds brought from the country, and placed them behind a wooden partition which separated the alcove of my bed-room from a large vestibule behind our apartments. as the alcove was separated only by boards, the odour of the kennel penetrated into it; and in the midst of this disgusting smell we both slept. when i complained to him of the inconvenience, he told me it was impossible to help it. the kennel being a great secret, i put up with this nuisance, rather than betray his imperial highness. as there was no kind of amusement at court during this carnival, the grand duke took it into his head to have masquerades in my room. he dressed his servants, mine, and my maids in masks, and made them dance in my bed-room. he himself played the violin, and danced as well. all this continued far into the night. as for me, under different pretexts of headache or lassitude, i lay down on a couch, but always in a masquerade dress, tired to death of the insipidity of these _bal-masqués_, which amused him infinitely. when lent came on, four more persons were removed from attendance on him, three of them being pages, whom he liked better than the others. these frequent dismissals affected him; still he took no steps to prevent them, or he took them so clumsily that they only tended to increase the evil. during this winter, we learnt that prince repnine, ill as he was, had been appointed to command the troops which were to be sent to bohemia, in aid of the empress-queen maria theresa. this was a formal disgrace for prince repnine. he went, and never returned, having died of grief in bohemia. it was the princess gagarine, my maid of honour, who gave me the first intimation of this, notwithstanding all the prohibitions against allowing a word to reach us relative to what occurred in the city or the court. this shows how useless are all such prohibitions. there are too many persons interested in infringing them ever to allow of their being strictly enforced. all about us, even to the nearest relatives of the tchoglokoffs, interested themselves in diminishing the rigour of the kind of political imprisonment to which we were subjected. there was no one, not even excepting madame tchoglokoff's own brother, count hendrikoff, who did not contrive to give us useful intimations; and many persons even made use of him to convey information to me, which he was always ready to do with the frankness of a good and honest fellow. he ridiculed the stupidities and brutalities of his sister and brother-in-law in such a manner that every one was at ease with him, and no one ever thought of distrusting him, for he never compromised any one, nor had any person ever been disappointed in him. he was a man of correct but limited judgment, ill-bred, and very ignorant, but firm, and without any evil. during this same lent, one day about noon, i went into the room where our ladies and gentlemen were assembled--the tchoglokoffs had not yet come--and in speaking first to one and then to another, i approached the door near which the chamberlain outzine was standing. in a low voice he turned the conversation to the subject of the dull life we led, and said, that notwithstanding all this, people contrived to prejudice us in the mind of the empress; that a few days before, her imperial majesty had said at table that i was overwhelmed with debt; that every thing i did bore the stamp of folly; that for all that i thought myself very clever--an opinion, however, in which no one else shared, for nobody was deceived in me, my stupidity being patent to all; and therefore that it was less necessary to mind what the grand duke did than what i did. he added, with tears in his eyes, that he was ordered by the empress to tell me all this, but he begged me not to let it be supposed that he had told me of this order. i replied, that as to my stupidity it ought not to be objected to me as a fault, every one being just what god had made him; that as to my debts it was not very surprising i should be in debt when, with an allowance of , roubles, my mother, at parting, left me to pay , roubles on her account, while the countess roumianzoff had led me into innumerable expenses which she considered as indispensable; that madame tchoglokoff alone cost me this year , roubles, and that he himself knew what infernal play one was constantly obliged to play with them; that he might say all this to those who had sent him; that for the rest, i was very sorry i had been prejudiced in the opinion of her imperial majesty, to whom i had never failed in respect, obedience, and deference, and that the more closely my conduct was looked into the more would she be convinced of this. i promised him the secrecy he asked for, and kept it. i do not know whether he reported what i told him, but i fancy he did, though i heard no more of the matter, and did not care to renew a conversation so little agreeable. during the last week of lent, i took the measles. i could not make my appearance at easter, but received the communion in my room, on the saturday. during this illness, madame tchoglokoff, though far advanced in pregnancy, scarcely ever left me, and did all she could to amuse me. i had then a little kalmuck girl, of whom i was very fond. she caught the measles from me. after easter, we went to the summer palace, and thence, at the end of may--for the feast of the ascension--to the residence of the count razoumowsky, at gostilitza. the empress invited there, on the rd of this month, the ambassador of the imperial court, the baron breitlack, who was about to leave for vienna. he spent the evening there, and supped with the empress. this supper was served at a very late hour, and we returned to the cottage in which we were lodged after sunrise. this cottage was of wood, placed on a slight elevation, and attached to the slides.[ ] we had been pleased with the situation of this cottage when we were here in the winter, for the fête of the master of the hounds; and, in order to gratify us, he had placed us in it on the present occasion. it had two stories; the upper one consisted of a staircase, a saloon, and three cabinets. in one of these we slept, the grand duke used another as a dressing-room, and madame krause occupied the third. below were lodged the tchoglokoffs, my maids of honour, and my lady's-maids. on our return from supper, every one retired to rest. about six o'clock in the morning, a sergeant in the guards, levacheff, arrived from oranienbaum, to speak to tchoglokoff relative to the buildings which were in the course of erection there. finding every one asleep in the house, he sat down by the sentinel, and heard certain crackling noises, which excited his suspicions. the sentinel told him that these cracklings had been several times renewed since he had been on duty. levacheff got up, and ran to the outside of the house. he saw that large blocks of stone were detaching themselves from the lower portion. he ran and woke tchoglokoff, telling him that the foundations of the house were giving way, and that he must try and get every one out of it. tchoglokoff put on a dressing-gown, and ran up stairs; where, finding the doors--which were of glass--locked, he burst them open. he thus reached our room, and drawing the curtains, desired us to get up as fast as possible and leave the house, as the foundations were giving way. the grand duke leaped out of bed, seized his dressing-gown, and ran off. i told tchoglokoff that i would follow him, and he left me. while dressing i recollected that madame krause slept in the next room, and went to call her. she was so sound asleep that i had much difficulty in waking her, and then in making her understand that she must leave the house. i helped her to dress. when she was in a condition to go out, we passed into the drawing-room; but we had scarcely done so, when there was a universal crash, accompanied by a noise like that made by a vessel launched from the docks. we both fell on the ground. at the moment of our fall, levacheff entered by the staircase door, which was opposite us. he raised me up, and carried me out of the room. i accidentally cast my eyes towards the slides: they had been on a level with the second story; they were so no longer but some two or three feet below it. levacheff reached with me as far as the stairs by which he had ascended; they were no longer to be found, they had fallen; but several persons having climbed upon the wreck, levacheff passed me to the nearest, these to the others, and thus from hand to hand i reached the bottom of the staircase in the hall, and thence was carried into a field. i there found the grand duke in his dressing-gown. once out of the house, i directed my attention to what was passing there, and saw several persons coming out of it all bloody, while others were carried out. amongst those most severely wounded was the princess gagarine, my maid of honour. she had tried to escape like the rest, but in passing through a room adjoining her own, a stove, which fell down, overturned a screen, by which she was thrown upon a bed, which was in the room. several bricks fell upon her head, and wounded her severely, as they did also a girl who was with her. in this same story there was a small kitchen, in which several servants slept, three of whom were killed by the fall of the fire-place. this, however, was nothing compared with what occurred between the foundations and the ground floor. sixteen workmen attached to the slides slept there, and all of them were crushed to death by the fall of the house. all this mischief arose from the house having been built in the autumn, and in a hurry. they had given it as a foundation four layers of limestone. in the lower story the architect had placed, in the vestibule, twelve beams, which served as pillars. he had to go to the ukraine, and at his departure told the manager of the estate of gostilitza not to allow any one to touch those beams till his return. yet, notwithstanding this prohibition, when the manager learnt we were to occupy this cottage, nothing would do but he must immediately remove these beams, because they disfigured the vestibule. then, when the thaw came, everything sank upon the four layers of limestone, which gave way in different directions, and the entire building slid towards a hillock, which arrested its progress. i escaped with a few slight bruises and a great fright, for which i was bled. this fright was so general and so great amongst us all, that for more than four months afterwards, if a door was only slammed with a little extra force, every one started. on the day of the accident, when the first terror had passed, the empress, who occupied another house, sent for us, and, as she wished to make light of the danger we had been in, every one tried to see little in it, and some none at all. my terror displeased her very much, and she was out of humour with me. the master of the hounds wept, and was inconsolable; he talked of blowing out his brains. i presume he was prevented, for he did nothing of the kind, and the next day we returned to st. petersburg, and some weeks later to the summer palace. i do not exactly remember, but i fancy it was about this time that the chevalier sacromoso arrived in russia. it was a long time since a knight of malta had visited this country, and, generally speaking, few persons came to st. petersburg in those days; his arrival, therefore, was a sort of event. he was received with marked attention, and was shown everything worthy of note in st. petersburg and cronstadt. a naval officer of distinction was appointed to accompany him. this was m. poliansky, then captain of a man-of-war, since an admiral. he was presented to us. in kissing my hand he slipped into it a very small note, saying at the same time, in a low voice, "it is from your mother." i was almost stupefied with terror at this act. i dreaded its being observed by some one or other, especially by the tchoglokoffs, who were close by. however, i took the note, and slipped it into my right hand glove; no one had noticed it. on returning to my room, i found, in fact, a letter from my mother, rolled up in a slip of paper, on which it was stated that the chevalier expected an answer through an italian musician, who attended the grand duke's concerts. my mother, rendered anxious by my involuntary silence, wanted to know the cause of it; she also wished to know in what situation i was. i wrote to her, giving her the information she required. i told her that i had been forbidden to write to any one, under the pretext that it did not become a grand duchess of russia to write any letters but such as were composed at the office of foreign affairs, where i was only to attach my signature, and never to dictate what was to be written, because the ministers knew better than i did what was proper to be said; that it had almost been made a crime in m. olzoufieff that i had sent him a few lines, which i begged him to enclose in a letter to my mother. i also gave her information on several other points, about which she had inquired. i rolled up my note in the same manner as the one i had received, and watched with impatience and anxiety the moment for getting rid of it. at the first concert given by the grand duke, i made the tour of the orchestra, and stopped behind the chair of the solo violinist, d'ologlio, who was the person pointed out to me. when he saw me come behind his chair, he pretended to take his handkerchief from his coat-pocket, and in doing so left his pocket wide open. without any appearance of action, i slipped my note into it, and no one had the slightest suspicion of what had happened. during his stay in st. petersburg, sacromoso delivered to me two or three other notes having reference to the same matter; my answers were returned in the same manner, and no one was ever the wiser. from the summer palace we went to peterhoff, which was then being rebuilt. we were lodged in the upper palace, in peter the first's old house, which was standing at that time. here, to pass the time, the grand duke took it into his head to play with me every afternoon at two-handed ombre. when i won he got angry, and when i lost he wanted to be paid forthwith. i had no money, so he began to play at games of hazard with me, quite by ourselves. i remember on one occasion his night-cap stood with us for , roubles; but when at the end of the game he was a loser, he became furious, and would sometimes sulk for many days. this kind of play was not in any way to my taste. during this stay at peterhoff we saw from our windows, which looked out upon the garden towards the sea, that m. and madame tchoglokoff were continually passing and repassing from the upper palace towards that of monplaisir on the sea-shore, where the empress was then residing. this excited our curiosity, and that of madame krause also, to know the object of all these journeys. for this purpose madame krause went to her sister's, who was head lady's-maid to the empress. she returned quite radiant with pleasure, having learned that all these movements were occasioned by its having come to the knowledge of the empress that m. tchoglokoff had had an intrigue with one of my maids of honour, mademoiselle kocheleff, who was with child in consequence. the empress had sent for madame tchoglokoff and told her that her husband deceived her, while she loved him like a fool; that she had been blind to such a degree as to have this girl, the favourite of her husband, almost living with her; that if she wished to separate from her husband at once it would not be displeasing to her majesty, who even from the beginning had not regarded her marriage with m. tchoglokoff with a favourable eye. her majesty declared to her point-blank that she did not choose him to continue with us, but would dismiss him and leave her in charge. madame tchoglokoff at first denied the passion of her husband, and maintained that the charge against him was a calumny; but in the meantime her majesty had sent some one to question the young lady, who at once acknowledged the fact. this rendered madame tchoglokoff furious against her husband. she returned home and abused him. he fell upon his knees and begged her pardon, and made use of all his influence over her to soothe her anger. the brood of children which they had also helped to patch up their difference; but their reconciliation was never sincere. disunited in love, they remained connected by interest. the wife pardoned her husband; she went to the empress, and told her that she had forgiven everything, and wished to remain with him for the sake of her children. she entreated her majesty on her knees not to dismiss him ignominiously from court, saying that this would be to disgrace her and complete her misery. in a word, she behaved so well on this occasion, and with such firmness and generosity, and her grief besides was so real, that she disarmed the anger of the empress. she did more; she led her husband before her imperial majesty, told him many home truths, and then threw herself with him at the feet of her majesty, and entreated her to pardon him for her sake and that of her six children, whose father he was. these different scenes lasted five or six days; and we learned, almost hour by hour, what was going on, because we were less watched during the time, as every one hoped to see these people dismissed. but the issue did not answer their expectations; no one was dismissed but the young lady, who was sent back to her uncle, the grand marshal of the court, chepeleff; while the tchoglokoffs remained, less glorious, however, than they had been. the day of our departure for oranienbaum was chosen for the dismissal of mademoiselle kocheleff; and while we set off in one direction, she went in another. at oranienbaum, we resided, this year, in the town, to the right and left of the main building, which was small. the affair of gostilitza had given such a thorough fright, that orders had been issued to examine the floors and ceilings in all the houses belonging to the court, and to repair those which required attention. this is the kind of life i led at oranienbaum: i rose at three o'clock in the morning, and dressed myself alone from head to foot in male attire; an old huntsman whom i had was already waiting for me with the guns; a fisherman's skiff was ready on the sea-shore: we traversed the garden on foot, with our guns upon our shoulders; entered the boat together with a fisherman and a pointer, and i shot ducks in the reeds which bordered on both sides the canal of oranienbaum, which extends two verstes into the sea. we often doubled this canal, and consequently were occasionally, for a considerable time, in the open sea in this skiff. the grand duke came an hour or two after us; for he must needs always have a breakfast and god knows what besides, which he dragged after him. if we met we went together, if not each shot and hunted alone. at ten o'clock, and often later, i returned and dressed for dinner. after dinner we rested; and in the evening the grand duke had music, or we rode out on horseback. having led this sort of life for about a week, i felt myself very much heated and my head confused. i saw that i required repose and dieting; so for four-and-twenty hours i ate nothing, drank only cold water, and for two nights slept as long as i could. after this i recommenced the same course of life, and found myself quite well. i remember reading at that time the memoirs of brantôme, which greatly amused me. before that i had read the life of henri iv. by périfix. towards autumn we returned to town, and learned that we were to go to moscow in the course of the winter. madame krause came to tell me that it was necessary to increase my stock of linen for this journey. i entered into the details of the matter; madame krause pretended to amuse me by having the linen cut up in my room, in order, as she said, to teach me how many chemises might be cut from a single piece of cloth. this instruction or amusement seems to have displeased madame tchoglokoff, who had become very ill-tempered since the discovery of her husband's infidelity. i know not what she told the empress; but, at all events, she came to me one afternoon and said that her majesty had dispensed with madame krause's attendance on me, and that she was going to retire to the residence of her son-in-law the chamberlain sievers; and next day madame tchoglokoff brought madame vladislava to me to occupy her place. madame vladislava was a tall woman, apparently well formed, and with an intelligent cast of features, which rather prepossessed me at the first look. i consulted my oracle timothy yevreinoff relative to this choice. he told me that this woman, whom i had never before seen, was the mother-in-law of the counsellor pougovichnikoff, head clerk to count bestoujeff; that she was not wanting either in intelligence or sprightliness, but was considered very artful; that i must wait and see how she conducted herself, and especially be careful not to place much confidence in her. she was called praskovia nikitichna. she began very well; she was sociable, fond of talking, conversed and narrated with spirit, and had at her fingers' ends, all the anecdotes of the time, past and present. she knew four or five generations of all the families, could give at a moment everybody's genealogy, father, mother, grandfathers, grandmothers, together with their ancestors, paternal and maternal; and from no one else have i received so much information relative to all that has occurred in russia for the last hundred years. the mind and manners of this woman suited me very well; and when i felt dull i made her chat, which she was always ready to do. i easily discovered that she very often disapproved of the sayings and doings of the tchoglokoffs; but as she also went very often to her majesty's apartments, no one knew why, we were obliged to be on our guard with her, to a certain degree, not knowing what interpretation might be put upon the most innocent words and actions. from the summer palace we passed to the winter palace. here was presented to us madame la tour l'annois, who had been in attendance on the empress in her early youth, and had accompanied the princess anna petrovna, eldest daughter of peter i., when she left russia with her husband, the duke of holstein, during the reign of the emperor peter ii. after the death of this princess, madame l'annois returned to france, and she now came to russia, either to remain there, or possibly to return after having obtained some favours from her majesty. madame l'annois hoped, on the ground of old acquaintance, to re-enter into the favour and familiarity of the empress. but she was greatly deceived; every one conspired to exclude her. from the first few days after her arrival i foresaw what would happen, and for this reason: one evening, while they were at cards in the empress' apartment, her majesty continued moving from room to room without fixing herself anywhere, as was her custom; madame l'annois, hoping, no doubt, to pay her court to her, followed her wherever she went. madame tchoglokoff seeing this, said to me, "see how that woman follows the empress everywhere; but that will not continue long, she will very soon drop that habit of running after her." i took this as settled, and, in fact, she was first kept at a distance, and finally sent back to france with presents. during this winter was celebrated the marriage of count lestocq with mademoiselle mengden, maid of honour to the empress. her majesty and the whole court assisted at it, and she paid the newly-married couple the honour of visiting them at their own house. one would have said that they enjoyed the highest favour, but in a couple of months afterwards fortune turned. one evening, while looking on at those engaged at play in the apartments of the empress, i saw the count, and advanced to speak to him. "do not come near me," he said in a low tone, "i am a suspected man." i thought he must be jesting, and asked what he meant. he replied, "i tell you quite seriously not to come near me, because i am a suspected man, whom people must shun." i saw that he had an altered look, and was extremely red. i fancied he must have been drinking, and turned away. this happened on the friday. on the sunday morning, while dressing my hair, timothy yevreinoff said to me, "are you aware that last night count lestocq and his wife were arrested, and conducted to the fortress as state criminals?" no one knew why, but it became known that general stephen apraxine and alexander schouvaloff had been named commissioners for this affair. the departure of the court for moscow was fixed for the th of december. the czernicheffs had been transported to the fortress, and placed in a house belonging to the empress, called smolnoy dvoretz. the elder of the three sometimes made his guards drunk, and then went and walked into town to his friends. one day, a finnish wardrobe-maid, who was in my service, and was engaged to be married to a servant belonging to the court, a relation of yevreinoff, brought me a letter from andrew czernicheff, in which he asked me for several things. this girl had seen him at the house of her intended, where they had spent the evening together. i was at a loss where to conceal this letter when i got it, for i did not like to burn it, as i wanted to remember what he asked for. i had long been forbidden to write even to my mother. i purchased, through this girl, a silver pen and an inkstand. during the day i had the letter in my pocket; when i undressed, i slipped it under my garter, into my stocking, and before going to bed i removed it, and placed it in my sleeve. at last i answered it; sent him what he asked for through the channel by which his letter had reached me, and then, at a favourable moment, burned this letter which had occasioned me so much anxiety. about the middle of december we set out for moscow. the grand duke and i occupied a large sledge, and the gentlemen in waiting sat in the front. during the day the grand duke joined m. tchoglokoff in a town sledge, while i remained in the large one. as we never closed this, i conversed with those who were seated in front. i remember that the chamberlain, prince alexander jourievitch troubetzkoy, told me, during this time, that count lestocq, then a prisoner in the fortress, wanted to starve himself during the first eleven days of his detention, but that he had been forced to take nourishment: he had been accused of having accepted , roubles from the king of prussia to support his interests, and for having had a person named oettinger, who might have borne witness against him, poisoned. he was subjected to the torture, and then exiled to siberia. in this journey, the empress passed us at tver, and as the horses and provisions intended for us were taken by her suite, we remained twenty-four hours at tver without horses, and without food. we were dreadfully hungry. towards night tchoglokoff had prepared for us a roasted sturgeon, which we thought delicious. we set off at night, and reached moscow two or three days before christmas. the first thing we heard there was, that the chamberlain of our court, prince alex. mich. galitzine, had received, at the moment of our departure from st. petersburg, an order to repair to hamburg as minister of russia, with a salary of , roubles. this was looked upon as another case of banishment: his sister-in-law, princess gagarine, who was with me, grieved very much, and we all regretted him. we occupied at moscow the apartments which i had inhabited with my mother in . to go to the great church of the court, it was necessary to make the circuit of the house in a carriage. on christmas-day, at the hour for mass, we were on the point of descending to our carriage, and were already on the stairs, during a frost of degrees, when a message came from the empress to say that she dispensed with our going to church on this occasion, on account of the extreme cold; it did, in fact, pinch our noses. i was obliged to keep my room during the early portion of our residence in moscow, on account of the excessive quantity of pimples which had come on my face: i was dreadfully afraid of having to continue with a pimpled face. i called in the physician boërhave, who gave me sedatives, and all sorts of things to dispel these pimples. at last, when nothing was of avail, he said to me one day, "i am going to give you something which will drive them away." he drew from his pocket a small phial of oil of falk, and told me to put a drop in a cup of water, and to wash my face with it from time to time, say, for instance, once a-week. and really the oil of falk did clear my face, and by the end of some ten days i was able to appear. a short time after our arrival in moscow ( ), madam vladislava came to tell me that the empress had ordered the marriage of my finnish wardrobe-maid to take place as soon as possible. the only apparent reason for thus hastening her marriage was, that i had shown some predilection for her; for she was a merry creature, who from time to time made me laugh by mimicking every one, madame tchoglokoff especially being hit off in a very amusing manner. she was married, then, and no more said about her. in the middle of the carnival, during which there were no amusements whatever, the empress was seized with a violent cholic, which threatened to be serious. madame vladislava and timothy yevreinoff each whispered this in my ear, entreating me not to mention to any one who had told me. without naming them, i informed the grand duke of it, and he became very much elated. one morning, yevreinoff came to tell me that the chancellor bestoujeff and general apraxine had passed the previous night in the apartment of m. and madame tchoglokoff, which seemed to imply that the empress was very ill. tchoglokoff and his wife were more gruff than ever; they came into our apartments, dined there, supped, but never allowed a word to escape them relative to this illness. we did not speak of it either, and consequently did not dare to send and inquire how her majesty was, because we should have been immediately asked, "how, whence, by whom came you to learn, that she was ill?" and any one named, or even suspected, would infallibly have been dismissed, exiled, or even sent to the secret chancery, that state inquisition, more dreaded than death itself. at last her majesty, at the end of ten days, became better, and the wedding of one of her maids of honour took place at court. at table i was seated by the side of the countess schouvaloff, the favourite of the empress. she told me that her majesty was still so weak from the severe illness she had just had, that she had placed her diamonds on the bride's head (an honour which she paid to all her maids of honour) while seated in bed, her feet only being outside; and that it was for this reason she was not present at the wedding-feast. as the countess schouvaloff was the first to speak to me of this illness, i expressed to her the pain which her majesty's condition gave me, and the interest i took in it. she said her majesty would be pleased to learn how much i felt for her. two mornings after this, madame tchoglokoff came to my room, and, in the presence of madame vladislava, told me that the empress was very angry with the grand duke and myself on account of the little interest we had taken in her illness, even carrying our indifference to such an extent as not once to send and inquire how she was. i told madame tchoglokoff that i appealed to herself, that neither she nor her husband had spoken a single word to us about the illness of her majesty, and that knowing nothing of it, we had not been able to testify our interest in it. she replied, "how can you say that you knew nothing of it, when the countess schouvaloff has informed her majesty that you spoke to her at table about it." i replied, "it is true that i did so, because she told me her majesty was still weak and could not leave her room, and then i asked her the particulars of this illness." madame tchoglokoff went away grumbling, and madame vladislava said it was very strange to try and pick a quarrel with people about a matter of which they were ignorant; that since the tchoglokoffs alone had the right to speak of it, and did not speak, the fault was theirs, not ours, if we failed through ignorance. some time afterwards, on a court-day, the empress approached me, and i found a favourable moment for telling her that neither tchoglokoff nor his wife had given us any intimation of her illness, and that therefore it had not been in our power to express to her the interest we had taken in it. she received this very well, and it seemed to me that the credit of these people was diminishing. the first week of lent, m. tchoglokoff wished to go to his duty. he confessed, but the confessor of the empress forbade him to communicate. the whole court said it was by the order of her majesty, on account of his adventure with mademoiselle kocheleff. during a portion of our stay at moscow, m. tchoglokoff appeared to be intimately connected with count bestoujeff and his tool general stephen apraxine. he was continually with them, and, to hear him speak, one would have supposed him to be the intimate adviser of count bestoujeff--a thing that was quite impossible, for bestoujeff had far too much sense to allow himself to be guided by such an arrogant fool as tchoglokoff. but, at about half the period of our stay, this intimacy suddenly ceased--i do not exactly know why--and tchoglokoff became the sworn enemy of those with whom he had been so intimate a short time previously. shortly after my arrival in moscow, i began, for want of other amusement, to read the history of germany, by le père barre, canon of ste. geneviève, in nine volumes quarto. every week i finished one, after which i read the works of plato. my rooms faced the street; the corresponding ones were occupied by the duke, whose windows opened upon a small yard. when reading in my room, one of my maids usually came in, and remained there standing as long as she wished; she then retired, and another took her place when she thought it suitable. i made madame vladislava see that this routine could serve no useful purpose, but was merely an inconvenience; that, besides, i already had much to suffer from the proximity of my apartments to those of the grand duke, by which she, too, was equally discommoded, as she occupied a small cabinet at the end of my rooms. she consented, therefore, to relieve my maids from this species of etiquette. this is the kind of annoyance we had to put up with, morning, noon and night, even to a late hour: the grand duke, with rare perseverance, trained a pack of dogs, and with heavy blows of his whip, and cries like those of the huntsmen, made them fly from one end to the other of his two rooms, which were all he had. such of the dogs as became tired, or got out of rank, were severely punished, which made them howl still more. when he got tired of this detestable exercise, so painful to the ears and destructive to the repose of his neighbours, he seized his violin, on which he rasped away with extraordinary violence, and very badly, all the time walking up and down his rooms. then he recommenced the education and punishment of his dogs, which to me seemed very cruel. on one occasion, hearing one of these animals howl piteously and for a long time, i opened the door of my bed-room, where i was seated, and which adjoined the apartment in which this scene was enacted, and saw him holding this dog by the collar, suspended in the air, while a boy who was in his service, a kalmuck by birth, held the animal by the tail. it was a poor little king charles's dog of english breed, and the duke was beating him with all his might with the heavy handle of a whip. i interceded for the poor beast, but this only made him redouble his blows. unable to bear so cruel a scene, i returned to my room with tears in my eyes. in general, tears and cries, instead of moving the duke to pity, put him in a passion. pity was a feeling that was painful, and even insupportable in his mind. about this time, my valet timothy yevreinoff transmitted to me a letter from his old comrade andrew czernicheff, who had at last been set at liberty, and was passing near moscow, to join the regiment in which he had been placed as lieutenant. i managed with this letter as with the former one, sent him all he asked for, and never mentioned a word about the matter either to the grand duke or any one else. in the spring, the empress took us to perova, where we spent some days with her at the residence of count razoumowsky. the grand duke and m. tchoglokoff scoured the woods almost daily, accompanied by the master of the house. i read in my room, or else madame tchoglokoff, when she was not at cards, came and kept me company to dissipate her ennui. she complained bitterly of the amusements of this place, and especially of the constant indulgence of her husband in the sports of the chase, for he had become a passionate sportsman since he had received at moscow the present of a beautiful english greyhound. i learned from others that he was the laughing-stock of all the sportsmen, and that he fancied, and was made to believe that his circe (the name of his dog) caught all the hares that were taken. in general, m. tchoglokoff was very apt to believe that everything belonging to him was of rare beauty and excellence; his wife, his children, his servants, his house, his table, his horses, his dogs--everything that was his, although in reality very mediocre, participated in his self love, and, as belonging to him, became in his eyes of incomparable value. one day, while at perova, i was seized with a headache so violent that i do not remember ever having had anything like it in my life. the excessive pain brought on violent sickness. i threw up repeatedly, and every movement in my room made me worse. i remained in this state for nearly four-and-twenty hours, and then fell asleep. the next day i felt nothing but weakness. madame tchoglokoff took all possible care of me during this severe attack. generally speaking, all the persons who had been placed about me by an ill-will the most unequivocal, began in a short time to take an involuntary interest in me; and, when they were not interfered with or stimulated anew, they used to act against the principles of their employers, and yield to the impulse which attracted them towards me, or rather to the interest with which i inspired them. they never found me sulky or peevish, but always ready to meet the slightest advance on their part. in all this my natural gaiety was of great service to me, for all these arguses were often amused with my conversation, and relaxed in spite of themselves. her majesty had a new attack of cholic at perova. she was carried to moscow, and we went slowly to the palace, which is only four verstes from there. this attack had no ill consequence, and shortly afterwards she made a pilgrimage to the convent of troïtza. she wished to make these sixty verstes on foot, and for this purpose went to pokrovskoe house. we were ordered to take the troïtza road, and we took up our quarters on this road about eleven verstes from moscow, at a very small country-house called rajova, belonging to madame tchoglokoff. the only accommodations were a small saloon in the centre of the house, and two very small rooms on each side of it. tents were placed round the house for the use of our suite. the grand duke had one; i occupied one of the little rooms, madame vladislava another, the tchoglokoffs the remainder. we dined in the saloon. the empress walked three or four verstes, then rested some days. this journey lasted nearly the whole summer. we hunted every day after dinner. when her majesty reached taïninskoe, which is nearly opposite rajova, on the other side of the high road leading to the convent of troïtza, the hetman, count razoumowsky, younger brother of the favourite--who was residing at his country seat of pokrovskoe, on the road to st. petersburg, on the other side of moscow--took it into his head to come and see us every day at rajova. he was very gay, and nearly of our own age. we liked him very much. as brother of the favourite, m. and madame tchoglokoff willingly received him into their house. his assiduity continued all the summer, and we were always pleased to see him. he dined and supped with us, and after supper returned again to his estate; he consequently travelled forty or fifty verstes a-day. some twenty years later, it occurred to me to ask him what it was that could then induce him to come and share the dulness and insipidity of our life at rajova, while his own house was daily crowded with the best company at moscow. he replied, unhesitatingly, "love." "but what on earth could you have found to love at our house?" "what!" he said, "why, you." i burst into a loud laugh, for the idea had never once crossed my mind; besides he had been married for some years to a rich heiress of the house of narichkine, whom the empress had made him marry, a little against his will it is true, but with whom he seemed to live on good terms. added to this, it was well known that the handsomest women of the court and city contended for his notice; and, indeed, he was a fine man, of an original turn, very agreeable, and with far more intelligence than his brother, who however equalled him in beauty, while surpassing him in generosity and kindness. these two brothers were the most generally liked favourites i have ever known. about the feast of st. peter, the empress sent us word to join her at bratovchina. we repaired thither immediately. as during the spring and a part of the summer i had either been engaged in sporting, or otherwise constantly in the open air, rajova house being so small that we spent the greater part of the day in the neighbouring woods, i arrived at bratovchina with my face very red and tanned. when the empress saw me, she exclaimed against this redness, and said she would send me a wash to remove it, and she did so; she immediately sent a phial containing a liquid composed of lemon-juice, white of egg, and french brandy, and ordered that my maids should learn its composition, and the proper proportions of its ingredients. at the end of a few days my sun-burns had disappeared, and i have since used this composition, and recommended it to others for similar purposes. when the skin is heated, i do not know of a better remedy. it is also good for what they call in russia tetters, and which is nothing but a heating of the skin, which causes it to crack. i cannot at the moment recall the french term for this complaint.[ ] we spent the feast of st. peter at the convent of troïtza, and as the grand duke could find nothing to do after dinner, he took it into his head to have a ball in his own room, where, however, his only company were his two valets and my two maids, one of whom was over fifty. from the convent her majesty went to taïninskoe, while we returned to rajova, and resumed our former mode of life. we remained there till the middle of august, when the empress made a journey to sophino, a place situated at sixty or seventy verstes from moscow. here we encamped. on the morning after our arrival we went to her majesty's tent, and found her scolding the person who had the management of this estate. she had come here to hunt, and found no hares. the man was pale and trembling, and there was nothing that she did not say to him; she was really furious. seeing that we had come to kiss her hand, she embraced us as usual, and then went on with her scolding, bringing within the sphere of her remarks every one she felt disposed to find fault with. this was done gradually, and while speaking with extreme volubility. she said, among other things, that she perfectly understood the management of land; that the reign of the empress anne had taught her this; that having but little, she took care to avoid extravagance; that had she gone in debt, she would have been afraid of being damned: for if she had died in such a condition no one would have paid her debts, and then her soul would have gone to hell, and that she had no fancy for; that therefore, when she was in the house, or not otherwise obliged to make an appearance, she dressed very simply, her outside dress being of white taffeta and the under of dark gray, and in this manner she economized, taking good care not to wear expensive clothes in the country or when travelling. this, of course, had reference to me, for i wore a dress of silvered lilac. i took the hint. this dissertation--for such it was, no one venturing to speak, seeing her flushed with passion--lasted more than three-quarters of an hour. at last, a fool she had, named aksakoff, put a stop to it. he came in carrying a little porcupine, which he presented to her, in his hat. she advanced to look at it, but the instant she saw it she uttered a piercing cry, saying that it looked like a mouse, and ran precipitately into the interior of the tent, for she had a mortal antipathy to mice. we saw no more of her: she dined alone. after dinner she went to the chase, took the grand duke with her, and ordered me to return with madame tchoglokoff to moscow, where the grand duke arrived some hours afterwards, the chase having been but brief, in consequence of the high wind that prevailed that day. one sunday the empress sent for us to join her at taïninskoe--we were then at rajova, whither we had returned--and we had the honour of dining with her majesty. she sat alone at the head of the table, the grand duke at her right, i at her left, opposite to him. near the grand duke was marshal boutourline, near me the countess schouvaloff. the table was very long and narrow. thus seated between the empress and the marshal, the grand duke, not a little aided by the marshal, who was by no means an enemy to wine himself, managed to get exceedingly intoxicated. he neither knew what he said or did, stuttered in his speech, and made himself so very disagreeable, that tears came into my eyes; for at that time i concealed and palliated as much as possible all that was reprehensible in him. the empress was pleased with my sensibility, and left the table earlier than usual. his imperial highness was to have gone hunting in the afternoon with count razoumowsky, but he remained at taïninskoe, while i returned to rajova. on the way i was seized with a violent toothache. the weather began to be cold and wet, and we were but badly sheltered at rajova. the brother of madame tchoglokoff, count hendrikoff, who was the chamberlain on duty with me, proposed to his sister to cure me instantly. she spoke to me on the subject, and i consented to try his remedy, which seemed to be nothing at all, or rather a mere charlatanism. he went immediately into the other room, and brought out a very small roll of paper, which he desired me to chew with the aching tooth. hardly had i done so when the pain became so extremely violent that i was obliged to go to bed. i got into such a burning fever, that i began to be delirious. madame tchoglokoff, terrified at my condition, and attributing it to her brother's remedy, got very angry and abused him. she remained at my bedside all the night, sent word to the empress that her house at rajova was in no way fit for a person so seriously ill as i appeared to be, and in fact made such a stir, that the next day i was removed to moscow very ill. i was ten or twelve days in bed, and the toothache returned every afternoon at the same hour. at the beginning of september, the empress went to the convent of voskressensky, whither we were ordered to go for the feast of her name. on that day m. iran ivanovitch schouvaloff was declared a gentleman of the bedchamber. this was an event at court. every one whispered that a new favourite had appeared. i was rejoiced at his promotion, for, while he was a page, i had marked him out as a person of promise, on account of his studiousness; he was always to be seen with a book in his hand. having returned from this excursion, i was seized with a sore throat accompanied with much fever. the empress came to see me during this illness. when barely convalescent, and while still very weak, her majesty ordered me, through madame tchoglokoff, to assist at the wedding and dress the hair of the niece of the countess roumianzoff, who was about to be married to m. alexander narichkine, subsequently created chief cupbearer. madame tchoglokoff, who saw that i was scarcely convalescent, was a little pained in announcing to me this compliment, a compliment which gave me but little pleasure, as it plainly showed how little was cared for my health, perhaps even for my life. i spoke in this view to madame vladislava, who seemed, like myself, but little pleased with this order, an order evidently given without care or consideration. i exerted myself, however, and on the day fixed the bride was led to my room. i adorned her head with my diamonds, and she was then conducted to the court church to be married. as for me, i had to go to narichkine house, accompanied by madame tchoglokoff and my own court. now, we were living at moscow, in the palace at the end of the german sloboda. to reach the residence of the narichkines it was necessary to go right through moscow, and travel at least seven verstes. it was in the month of october, about nine o'clock at night. it froze excessively hard, and the ground was so slippery that we had to travel very slowly. we were at least two hours and a-half in going, and the same in returning, and there was not a man or horse in my suite that had not one or more falls. at last having reached the church of kasansky, which was near the gate called troïtzkaja, we met with another impediment, for in this church was married, at the very same hour, the sister of ivan ivanovitch schouvaloff. her hair had been dressed by the empress herself, while i dressed that of mademoiselle roumianzoff. a great crowding of carriages occurred at this gate. we had to stop at every step; then the falls recommenced; not one of the horses had been rough shod. at last we reached the house, and not in the best humour in the world. we waited a long time for the bride and bridegroom, who had met with the same impediments as ourselves. the grand duke accompanied the bride. then we waited for the empress. at last we sat down to supper. after supper, there were a few rounds of dancing in the ante-chamber as a matter of ceremony, and then we were told to lead the bride and bridegroom to their apartments. for this purpose we had to pass along several cold corridors, mount staircases equally cold, and then traverse long galleries hastily constructed of damp boards, from which the water oozed in all directions. at last, having reached the apartments, we sat down to a table spread with a dessert, remaining only long enough to drink the health of the newly married. then the bride was led to her chamber, and we returned home. the next evening we had to repeat our visit. would any one have believed it? this turmoil, instead of injuring my health, did not in the least retard my convalescence. the following day i was better than the previous one. at the beginning of winter, i saw that the grand duke was very much disturbed. i did not know what was the matter. he no longer trained his dogs. he came into my room twenty times a-day, looked anxious, thoughtful, and absent. he bought german books, and such books! one portion consisted of lutheran prayer-books, the other of the history and trial of some highway robbers who had been hung or broken on the wheel. these he read by turns when not playing the violin. as he could not long keep on his mind anything which tormented him, and as he had no one to speak to but me, i waited patiently for his revelation. at last he told me what it was that disturbed him, and i found the matter far more serious than i had anticipated. during the whole summer pretty nearly, at all events during our stay at rajova, on the road to the convent of troïtza, i scarcely ever saw him, except at table or in bed. he came to bed after i was asleep, and rose before i was awake. the rest of his time was passed in hunting or in preparations for it. tchoglokoff had obtained, under pretext of amusing the grand duke, two packs of dogs from the master of the hounds, the one of russian dogs and huntsmen, the other of french or german dogs. to the latter were attached an old french whipper-in, a lad from courland, and a german. as m. tchoglokoff took the direction of the russian pack, the grand duke undertook that of the foreign one, about which tchoglokoff did not in the least trouble himself. each entered into the minutest details of his own charge, and the grand duke therefore was constantly going to the kennel of his pack, or the huntsmen were coming to him to inform him of its condition, and of the wants and deeds of the dogs. in a word, if i must speak plainly, he made himself the companion of these men, drinking with them in the chase, and being constantly among them. the regiment of boutirsky was then at moscow. in this regiment was a lieutenant named yakoff batourine, a man overwhelmed with debt, a gambler, and well known to be a worthless fellow, but a very determined one. i know not how this man happened to get acquainted with the grand duke's huntsmen, but i believe both had their quarters in or near the village of moutistcha or alexeewsky. at last matters went on so far, that the huntsmen told the duke there was a lieutenant in the regiment of boutirsky who manifested a great attachment to his imperial highness, and who said, besides, that the entire regiment entertained the same feelings as himself. the grand duke listened to this recital with complacency, and made inquiries of the huntsmen relative to this regiment. they spoke very disparagingly of the superior officers, and very highly of the subalterns. at last batourine, still through the huntsmen, asked to be presented to the grand duke, at the chase. to this the duke was not altogether favourable at first, but at last he consented. by little and little it was so managed that the duke, while hunting one day, met batourine in a retired spot. batourine on seeing him, fell on his knees, and swore to acknowledge no other master but him, and to do whatever he commanded. the grand duke told me that on hearing this oath he became very much alarmed, gave both spurs to his horse, and left batourine on his knees in the wood. the huntsmen, he said, were in advance, and did not hear what had been said. he pretended that this was all the connection he had had with the man, and that he had even advised the huntsmen to take care that he did not get them into mischief. his present anxiety was occasioned by his learning from the huntsmen that batourine had been arrested and transferred to preobrajenskoe, where the secret chancery, which took cognizance of crimes against the state, was established. his imperial highness trembled for the huntsmen, and was very much afraid of being himself compromised. as far as the former were concerned, his fears were realized; for, a few days afterwards, they were arrested and conducted to preobrajenskoe. i endeavoured to diminish his distress by representing to him, that if he really had not entered into any parley beyond what he had mentioned, it appeared to me that, at the worst, he had only been guilty of an imprudence, in mixing himself up with such bad company. i cannot say whether he told me the truth. i have reason to believe that he attenuated what there might be of parleying in the affair, for even to me he spoke about the matter in broken sentences, and as if unwillingly. however, the excessive fear he was in might also have produced this same effect upon him. a short time afterwards he came to tell me that some huntsmen had been set at liberty, but with an order to be conveyed beyond the frontier, and that they had sent him word that they had not mentioned his name. this information delighted him beyond measure; his mind became at ease, and no more was heard of the matter. as for batourine, he was found very culpable. i have not since read or seen the account of his examination, but i have learned that he meditated nothing less than to kill the empress, to set fire to the palace, and in the horror and confusion to place the grand duke on the throne. he was condemned, after being subjected to the torture, to pass the remainder of his days shut up in the fortress of schlusselburg. having, during my reign, endeavoured to make his escape from this prison, he was sent to kamtchatka, whence he fled with benjousky, and was killed while pillaging _en passant_ the island of formosa, in the pacific ocean. on the th of december we left moscow for st. petersburg, travelling night and day in an open sledge. about midway i was again seized with a violent toothache. notwithstanding this, the grand duke would not consent to close the sledge: scarcely would he allow me to draw the curtain a little, so as to shelter me from a cold and damp wind, blowing right into my face. at last we reached zarskoe-selo, where the empress had already arrived, having passed us on the road, according to her usual custom. as soon as i stepped out of the sledge i entered the apartment destined for us, and sent for her majesty's physician boërhave, the nephew of the celebrated boërhave, requesting him to have the tooth which had tormented me so much for the last four or five months extracted. he consented with great reluctance, and only because i absolutely insisted on it. at last he sent for gyon, my surgeon: i sat on the ground, boërhave on one side, tchoglokoff on the other, and gyon drew the tooth; but the moment he did so, my eyes, nose, and mouth became fountains, whence poured out--from my mouth, blood, from my eyes and nose water. boërhave, who was a man of clear and sound judgment, instantly exclaimed, "clumsy!" and calling for the tooth, he added, "i feared it would be so, and that was why i did not wish it to be drawn." gyon, in extracting the tooth, had carried away with it a portion of the lower jaw, to which it was attached. at this moment the empress came to the door of my room, and i was afterwards told that she was moved even to tears. i was put to bed, and suffered a great deal during four weeks, even in the city, whither we went next day, notwithstanding all this, and still in open sleighs. i did not leave my room till the middle of january, , for the lower part of my cheek still bore in blue and yellow stains, the impression of the five fingers of m. gyon. on new-year's day this year wishing to have my hair dressed, i noticed that the young man who was to do it, a kalmuck whom i had trained for this purpose, was excessively red, and his eyes very piercing. i asked what was the matter, and learned that he had a very bad headache and great heat. i sent him away, desiring him to go to bed, for indeed he was not fit to do anything. he retired, and in the evening i was informed that the small-pox had broken out upon him. i escaped with nothing worse than the fright which this gave me, for i did not catch the disease, although he had combed my hair. the empress remained at zarskoe-selo during a considerable portion of the carnival. petersburg was nearly deserted, for most of its residents lived there from necessity rather than choice. while the court was at moscow, and also when on its return to st. petersburg, all the courtiers were eager to obtain leave of absence for a year, six months, or even a few weeks. the officials, such as senators, and others, did the same; and when they were afraid of not succeeding, then came the illnesses, real or feigned, of husbands, wives, fathers, brothers, mothers, sisters, or children; or lawsuits, or other business which it was indispensable to settle. in a word, it sometimes took six months, or even more, before the court and the city became what they were previously to one of these absences; and when the court was away, the grass grew in the streets of st. petersburg, for there were scarcely any carriages in the city. in such a state of things, at the present moment, there was not much company to be expected, especially by us who were so much shut up. m. tchoglokoff thought to amuse us during this time, or rather to amuse himself and his wife, by inviting us to play at cards with him in the apartments which he occupied at court, and which consisted of four or five rather small rooms. he also invited there the ladies and gentlemen in waiting, and the princess of courland, daughter of duke ernest john biren, the ancient favourite of the empress anne. the empress elizabeth had recalled this duke from siberia, whither he had been exiled under the regency of the princess anne. there, the duke was living with his wife, his sons, and his daughter. this daughter was neither handsome nor pretty, nor well made, for she was humpbacked, and rather small; but she had fine eyes, much intelligence, and a singular talent for intrigue. her parents were not very fond of her; she pretended, indeed, that they constantly ill-treated her. one day she fled from home, and took refuge with the wife of the waiwode of yaroslav, madame pouchkine. this woman, delighted to have an opportunity of giving herself importance at court, took her to moscow, addressed herself to madame schouvaloff, and the flight of the princess of courland from her father's house was represented as the result of the ill-treatment she had received from her parents, in consequence of her having expressed a desire to embrace the religion of the greek church. in fact, the first thing she did at court was to make her profession of faith. the empress stood godmother for her, after which she received an appointment among the maids of honour. m. tchoglokoff made it a point to show her attention, because her elder brother had laid the foundation of his fortune, by taking him from the corps of cadets, where he was receiving his education, removing him into the horse-guards, and keeping him about himself as a messenger. the princess of courland thus brought into our society, and playing daily for hours at trisset with the grand duke, tchoglokoff, and myself, conducted herself at first with great discretion. she was insinuating, and her intelligence made one forget what was disagreeable in her figure, especially when seated. she adapted her conversation to the character of her auditors, speaking to each in the manner most likely to be agreeable. every one looked upon her as an interesting orphan, and a person not likely to be in any one's way. in the eyes of the grand duke she had another merit, and no slight one either--she was a sort of foreign princess, and, what was more, a german; he therefore always spoke to her in german, and this gave her a charm in his eyes. he began to pay her as much attention as he was capable of doing. when she dined alone, he sent her wine, as well as favourite dishes from his table, and when he got hold of some new grenadier's cap or shoulder-belt, he sent them to her to look at. the princess of courland, who at that time might be about four or five and twenty, was not the only acquisition made by the court at moscow. the empress had then taken the two countesses voronzoff, nieces of the vice-chancellor, and daughters of count roman voronzoff, his younger brother. mary, the elder, might be about fourteen; she was placed among the empress' maids of honour. the younger sister, elizabeth, was only eleven; she was given to me. she was a very ugly child, of an olive complexion, and excessively slovenly. towards the end of the carnival, her majesty returned to town, and in the first week of lent we began to prepare for our duty. on the wednesday evening i was to take a bath at the house of madame tchoglokoff, but on tuesday evening she came to my room, and told the grand duke, who was with me, that it was her majesty's pleasure that he also should take a bath. now the baths, and all other russian customs and habits, were not simply disagreeable to the duke, he had a mortal hatred for them. he therefore unceremoniously declared that he would do nothing of the kind. she, who was equally obstinate, and had no kind of reserve or ceremony in her speech, told him that this was an act of disobedience to her imperial majesty. he maintained that he ought not to be required to do what was repugnant to his nature; that he knew that the bath, in which he had never been, was unsuitable to his constitution; that he did not want to die; that life was the thing he held most dear, and that her majesty should never compel him to go into the bath. madame tchoglokoff replied that her majesty would know how to punish his disobedience. at this he became angry, and exclaimed, passionately, "i should like to see what she can do; i am not a child." madame tchoglokoff threatened that the empress would send him to the fortress. at this he cried bitterly; and they went on answering each other in the most outrageous terms that passion could dictate; in fact, they both acted as if they had not between them a grain of common sense. at last, madame tchoglokoff departed, saying that she would report the conversation to her imperial majesty word for word. i know not what she did in the matter, but she returned presently with an entirely different theme, for she came to inform us that her imperial majesty was very angry that we had no children, and wished to know which of us was in fault; that she would therefore send a midwife to me, and a physician to the grand duke. to this she added various other outrageous remarks--remarks which had neither head nor tail, and concluded by saying that her majesty had dispensed with our going to our duty this week, because the grand duke said the bath was injurious to his health. i must state that during these two conversations i never once opened my lips; in the first place, because they both spoke with such vehemence that i could find no chance of putting in a word; secondly, because i saw that both of them were utterly unreasonable. i do not know what view the empress took of the matter, but, at all events, nothing more was said on either topic. about mid-lent, her majesty went to gostilitza, to the residence of count razoumowsky, to celebrate his feast, and we were sent, together with her maids of honour and our ordinary suite, to zarskoe-selo. the weather was wonderfully mild, even warm, so that, on the th of march, instead of there being snow on the road, there was dust. having established ourselves at zarskoe-selo, the grand duke and tchoglokoff recommenced their hunting; i and the ladies walked or drove out as long as we could, and in the evening we all played at various small games. here the grand duke manifested a decided partiality for the princess of courland, especially when he had been drinking in the evening--a thing which happened every day. he was always at her side, and spoke to no one but her. at last this thing went on in the most glaring manner, before my eyes, and before every one, so that my vanity and self-love began to be shocked at finding myself slighted for the sake of a little, deformed creature like this. one evening, on rising from table, madame vladislava said to me that every one was disgusted to see this little hunchback preferred to me. "it cannot be helped," i said, as the tears started to my eyes. i went to bed; scarcely was i asleep when the grand duke also came to bed. as he was tipsy, and knew not what he was doing, he spoke to me for the purpose of expatiating on the eminent qualities of his favourite. to check his garrulity as soon as possible, i pretended to be fast asleep. he spoke still louder in order to wake me, but finding that i still slept, he gave me two or three rather hard blows in the side with his fist; then, growling at the heaviness of my slumbers, he turned on his side and dropped asleep himself. i wept long and bitterly that night, as well on account of the matter itself, and the blows he had given me, as on that of my general situation, which was in all respects as disagreeable as it was wearisome. in the morning, the duke seemed ashamed of what he had done; he did not speak of it, and i acted as if i had not felt anything. two days afterwards we returned to town. the last week of lent we recommenced our preparations for going to our duty. nothing more was said to the duke about the bath. another occurrence took place this week which perplexed him a little. while in his room he was nearly always in constant movement of one sort or other. one afternoon he was exercising himself in cracking an immense coachman's whip, which he had had made for him. he whipped about right and left, and made his valets jump from one corner to another, fearing to come in for a chance slash. at last he somehow contrived to give himself a severe blow on the cheek. the mark extended all along the left side of his face, and the blow was severe enough to make the blood start. he was very much disturbed, fearing that he should not be able to go out even by easter; that the empress should again forbid him to communicate, as his face was bloody; and that when she came to learn the cause of the accident, he should get some disagreeable reprimand for his whipping amusements. he instantly ran to consult me, as he always did in such emergencies. seeing him enter with his cheek all bloody, i exclaimed, "good heavens! what has happened to you?" he told me. having thought a little, i said, "well, perhaps i can manage the matter for you; but, first of all, go to your room, and try if possible to prevent your cheek from being seen by any one. i will come to you as soon as i have got what i want, and i trust we shall so manage that no one will be the wiser." he went off, and i recollected a preparation which had served me some years before in a similar predicament. i had a fall in the garden at peterhoff, and took the skin off my face so that it bled; my surgeon gyon gave me some white lead in the form of pomade, and i covered the wound with it, and went out as usual, without any one having perceived that i had scratched myself. i now sent for this pomade, and having received it, i went to the grand duke, and dressed his face so well, that he could not detect anything himself by looking in the glass. on the thursday we received the communion, in company with the empress, in the great church of the court, and then returned to our places. the light fell on the grand duke's cheek. tchoglokoff approached for some purpose or other, and looking at the duke, said, "wipe your cheek, there is some pomatum on it." instantly, as if in jest, i said to the grand duke, "and i, who am your wife, forbid your doing it." the grand duke, turning to tchoglokoff, said, "see how these women treat us; we dare not even wipe our faces, if they do not like it." tchoglokoff laughed, saying, "well, this is indeed a woman's caprice!" the matter rested there, and the duke felt grateful to me as well for the pomade which had spared him unpleasant results, as for my presence of mind, which had prevented all suspicion even in the case of m. tchoglokoff. as i had to be up before daylight on easter morning, i went to bed about five o'clock in the afternoon of holy saturday, intending to sleep till the time arrived for dressing. scarcely had i got into bed when the duke came running in in a violent hurry, telling me to make haste and get up to eat some fresh oysters, which had just been brought to him from holstein. this was a great and double treat for him; first, because he was fond of oysters, and, secondly, because they came from holstein, his native country, for which he had a great love, though he did not govern it any the better for that; for he both did, and was made to do, terrible things in it, as will be seen in the sequel. not to get up would have been to disoblige him, and risk a serious quarrel; i therefore rose, dressed myself, and went to his apartments, though i was very much fatigued by the devotional exercises of the holy week. when i reached his room, i found the oysters served. having eaten a dozen of them, i was allowed to return to bed, while he continued his repast. indeed, he was all the better pleased by my not eating too many, as there were more left for himself, for he was excessively greedy in the matter of oysters. at midnight i got up, and dressed myself for the matins and mass of easter sunday; but i could not remain till the end of the service, for i was seized with a violent cholic. i never remember having had such severe pains. i returned to my room with no one but the princess gagarine, all my people being in church. she assisted me to undress and get into bed, and sent for the doctors. i took medicine, and kept my bed during the first two days of the festival. it was a little before this time that count bernis, ambassador from the court of vienna, count lynar, the envoy of denmark, and general arnheim, envoy of saxony, arrived in russia. the latter brought with him his wife, who was by birth of the family of hoim. count bernis was a native of piedmont; he was intellectual, amiable, gay, and well educated, and of such a disposition that, although more than fifty years of age, young people preferred his society to that of persons of their own age. he was generally loved and esteemed, and i have a thousand times said, that if he, or some one like him, had been placed with the grand duke, the most beneficial results would have followed, for the duke as well as myself had a very great regard and affection for him. in fact, the duke said himself, that with such a man near, a person would be ashamed of doing anything wrong or foolish--an excellent remark, which i have never forgotten. count bernis had with him, as attaché, count hamilton, a knight of malta. one day, when i made inquiries of this gentleman about the health of the ambassador count bernis, who was indisposed, it occurred to me to say that i had the highest opinion of count bathyani, whom the empress-queen had just named tutor to her two elder sons, the archdukes joseph and charles, since she had preferred him for this office to count bernis. in the year , when i had my first interview with the emperor joseph ii. at mohilev, his imperial majesty told me that he was aware i had made this remark. i replied that he must have learnt this from count hamilton, who had been placed with him on his return from russia. he then said that i had surmised correctly in the case of count bathyani; for count bernis, whom he had not known, had left the reputation of being better suited to the office than his old tutor. count lynar, the envoy of the king of denmark, had been sent to russia to treat of the exchange of holstein, which belonged to the grand duke, for the country of oldenburg. he was, according to report, a person of much information, and of no less capacity. his appearance was that of a most complete fop. he was tall and well made, his hair fair with a tinge of red, and his complexion as delicately white as a woman's. it was said that he took such care of his skin, that he never went to bed without covering his face and hands with pomade, and also that he wore gloves and a mask at night. he boasted of having eighteen children, and pretended that he had always put the nurses of those children in the condition of continuing their vocation. this white count wore the white order of denmark, and dressed in the lightest colours; such as sky-blue, apricot, lilac, flesh colour, &c., although such light shades were, at that time, rarely worn by men. the high chancellor, count bestoujeff, and his wife, treated him with the most marked favour. he was received at their house as one of the family, and greatly fêted. this, however, did not shelter him from ridicule. there was also another point against him, viz., that it was not forgotten that his brother had been more than well-received by the princess anne, whose regency had been disapproved of. the count had hardly arrived when he announced the object of his mission, which was, to negotiate an exchange of the duchy of holstein for the territory of oldenburg. the high chancellor sent for m. pechlin, minister of the grand duke for his duchy of holstein, and told him the purport of count lynar's mission. m. pechlin made his report to the grand duke. the duke was passionately attached to his country of holstein. from the period of our stay in moscow, it had been represented to her imperial majesty as insolvent. he had asked her for money for it, and she had given him a little, but it had never reached holstein; it went to pay the clamorous debts of his imperial highness in russia. m. pechlin represented the affairs of holstein, as far as pecuniary considerations were concerned, as desperate. this was easy for him to do, as the grand duke depended upon him for the administration, and gave the matter but little or no attention himself; so that, on one occasion, pechlin, quite out of patience, said to him, in slow and measured accents, "my lord, it depends on a sovereign to give his attention to the government of his country, or not to do so. if he does not attend to it, the country governs itself, but it governs itself badly." this pechlin was a very short, fat man, wearing an immense wig, but he was not deficient either in acquirements or capacity. this heavy and short body enclosed a subtle and shrewd spirit; he was accused, however, of not being over-delicate in his choice of means. the high chancellor had great confidence in him; indeed, he was one of the persons most in his confidence. m. pechlin represented to the duke that to listen was not to negotiate, and that negotiation, also, was a very different thing from acceptance, and that he would always have it in his power to break off the negotiation when he thought proper. at last, step by step, they got him to consent that m. pechlin should listen to the propositions of the danish minister, and thus the negotiation was opened. the grand duke was distressed, and spoke to me on the subject. i, who had been brought up in the ancient hatred of the house of holstein against denmark, and had constantly heard it averred that the projects of count bestoujeff were all directed against the interests of the grand duke and myself, i, of course, could not hear of this project without impatience and anxiety. i opposed it to the grand duke as much as i could. no one, however, except himself, ever mentioned the subject to me, and to him the utmost secrecy had been recommended, especially in regard to women. i believe this caution had more reference to me than to any one else, but they were deceived in their expectations; for the duke was always eager to tell me everything about it. the more the negotiations advanced, the more did they endeavour to present the matter in an agreeable aspect to him. i often found him delighted at the prospect of what he should have, but then came revulsions of bitter regret for what he was going to lose. when they saw him hesitating, they relaxed the conferences, and only renewed them when they had invented some new bait for making him see things in a favourable light. in the beginning of the spring we moved to the summer garden, and occupied the little house built by peter i, the apartments of which are on a level with the garden. the stone quay, and the bridge of the fontanka, had not then been built. in this house i had one of the most painful annoyances which i experienced during the entire reign of the empress elizabeth. one morning i was informed that the empress had removed from my service my old valet de chambre, timothy yevreinoff. the pretext for this removal was, that yevreinoff had had a quarrel, in a wardrobe chamber, with a man who used to bring us in coffee. of this quarrel the grand duke had been in part a witness, having gone into the room while they were arguing, and heard a portion of their mutual abuse. the antagonist of yevreinoff complained to m. tchoglokoff, saying that yevreinoff, without regard to the presence of the grand duke, had used most abusive language to him. m. tchoglokoff immediately made his report to the empress, who ordered both of them to be dismissed from the court, and yevreinoff was sent off to kasan, where he was subsequently made master of police. the truth of the matter was, that both men were very much attached to us, especially yevreinoff, and this was but a pretext for depriving me of him. he had charge of everything belonging to me. the empress ordered that a man named skourine, whom he had taken in as an assistant, should take his place. in this person i had, at the time, no confidence. after some stay in the house of peter i, we were ordered to the summer palace, which was built of wood. here new apartments had been prepared for us, one side of which faced the fontanka, then a muddy marsh, while the other opened on a miserable and narrow yard. on whit-sunday, the empress sent me word to invite madame d'arnheim, the wife of the saxon envoy, to accompany me. she was a tall woman, very well made, about five-and-twenty or six-and-twenty years of age, rather thin, and anything but handsome, for she was much and deeply marked by the small-pox; but, as she dressed well, she had, at some distance, a good appearance, and looked tolerably fair. she arrived at about five o'clock in the afternoon, dressed like a man, from head to foot, her coat being of red cloth, bordered with gold lace, and her vest of green gros de tours, similarly trimmed. she did not seem to know what to do with her hat or her hands, and appeared to us rather awkward. as i knew the empress did not like my riding as a man, i had had made for me a lady's saddle, in the english style, and an english riding habit, of a rich azure and silvered cloth, with crystal buttons, which admirably imitated diamonds, while my black cap was surrounded with a string of diamonds. i went down stairs to mount my horse. at this moment the empress came to our apartments to see us set off. as i was then very active, and accustomed to this exercise, as soon as i reached my horse i leaped into the saddle, my petticoat, which was open, falling on each side. the empress seeing me mount with such agility and address, cried out in astonishment, and said it was impossible to have done better. she asked what kind of saddle i was using, and having learned that it was a side-saddle, she said, "one might have sworn it was a man's saddle." when madame d'arnheim's turn came, her skill did not shine very conspicuously in the eyes of her imperial majesty. her own horse had been led from her house. it was a large, heavy, black and ugly-looking animal, and our courtiers pretended that it must have been one of the leaders of her carriage. in order to mount, she was obliged to have the aid of steps, and the ceremony was not effected without a deal of fuss, and the assistance of several people. when mounted, the animal broke into a rough trot, which considerably shook the lady, who was neither firm in her seat nor in her stirrups, so that she had to hold on by the saddle. seeing her mounted, i took the lead, and then--let those follow who could. i overtook the duke, who was a-head of me, and madame d'arnheim was left behind. i was told that the empress laughed heartily, and was not at all pleased with madame d'arnheim's mode of riding. at last, after losing, now her hat and then her stirrups, she was picked up, i believe, some distance from the court, by madame tchoglokoff, who was in a carriage. finally, she was brought to us at catherinhoff; but the adventure was not yet ended. it had rained during the day, up to three o'clock in the afternoon, and the steps leading to catherinhoff house were covered with pools of water. after dismounting, i remained for some time in the hall, where a good deal of company had assembled. then, wishing to reach the room where my women were, i thought i would go by these open steps. madame d'arnheim must needs follow me, and as i walked quickly, she was obliged to run. she thus stepped into these puddles, lost her footing, slipped, and fell flat upon the ground, amidst the laughter of the crowd of spectators gathered about the steps. she got up, a little confused, laying the blame on the new boots she had put on that afternoon. we returned from this excursion in a carriage, and, on the way, madame d'arnheim entertained us with a detail of the good qualities of her steed; we had to bite our lips to prevent a burst of laughter. in a word, for many days she furnished a subject of merriment to the whole court and town. my women asserted that she had fallen from trying to imitate me, without being equally nimble; and madame tchoglokoff, who was by no means given to mirth, used to laugh till the tears came into her eyes, whenever any allusion was made to the subject, and this for a long time afterwards. from the summer palace we went to peterhoff, where, this year, we resided at monplaisir. we regularly spent a portion of our afternoons at the residence of madame tchoglokoff, where, as there was always company, we were tolerably well amused. from peterhoff we went to oranienbaum, where we hunted whenever the weather permitted, being sometimes thirteen hours a-day in the saddle. the summer, however, was rather wet. i remember one day, when returning home quite wet, that, as i was dismounting, i met my tailor, who said to me, "when i see you in this condition, i am not at all surprised that i can scarcely keep you in riding habits, and that new ones are continually required." the only material i wore for this purpose was silk camlet. the rain made it split, the sun faded the colours, so that i was obliged to have a constant succession of new habits. it was during this time that i contrived for myself saddles on which i could sit in any way i pleased. they had the english crook, and yet the leg could be passed over, so as to ride like a man. besides, the crook divided, and a second stirrup could be let down or raised at pleasure. if the equeries were asked how i was mounted, they said, "upon a lady's saddle," according to the wishes of the empress. i never passed my leg over except i felt quite sure of not being betrayed; and as i made no boast of my invention, while, besides, my attendants were anxious to please me, no inconvenience resulted. the grand duke cared very little how i was mounted, while the equeries thought i ran less risk in riding astride, especially as i was constantly in the chase, than i did in sitting on the english saddles, which they detested, as they were always apprehensive of some accident, the blame of which they would, in all probability, have to bear. for myself, i cared little for the chase, but i was passionately fond of riding; and the more violent the exercise, the more i liked it, so that if a horse happened to run away, i was sure to be after it and bring it back. at that period, also, i had always a book in my pocket, and if i had a moment to myself, i spent it in reading. i noticed, in these huntings, that m. tchoglokoff became a good deal softened in his manners, especially towards me. this made me fear that he might take it into his head to pay his court to me--a thing which would not have suited me in any manner. in the first place, i did not at all like him. he was fair and foppish, very stout, and as heavy in mind as in body. he was universally hated, while he was in no respect agreeable. his wife's jealousy and his own malignity were equally to be feared, especially for one like me, who had nothing in the world to depend on but myself and my merit, if i had any. i therefore evaded, and very skilfully, i fancy, all the attentions of m. tchoglokoff, without ever giving him any room for charging me with a want of politeness. all this was perfectly seen through by his wife, who felt grateful for it, and subsequently became much attached to me, partly, as will be seen in the sequel, from this cause. there were in our court two chamberlains named soltikoff, sons of the adjutant-general vasili teodorovitch soltikoff, whose wife, mary alexceëvna, born princess galitzine, the mother of these two young men, was very much esteemed by the empress, on account of the signal services she had rendered her at the time of her accession to the throne, having on that occasion given proofs of a rare fidelity and attachment. sergius, the younger of these sons, had been for some little time married to one of the empress' maids of honour, named matrena pavlovna balk. the elder brother was named peter. he was a fool in the fullest sense of the word. he had the most stupid physiognomy i have ever seen, great staring eyes, a flat nose, and a mouth always half open; added to which he was a notorious tale-bearer, and as such welcome to the tchoglokoffs, at whose house it was that madame vladislava, in virtue of an old acquaintance with the mother of this sort of imbecile, suggested to the tchoglokoffs the idea of marrying him to the princess of courland. in consequence, he placed himself in the ranks as a suitor, proposed to her and obtained her consent, while his parents demanded that of the empress. the grand duke knew nothing of all this until everything had been settled, that is, till our return to town. he was very much annoyed, and very much out of humour with the princess. i do not know what excuse she gave him, but, although he disapproved of her marriage, she continued for a long time to retain a portion of his affection, and some degree of influence with him. as for me, i was delighted with this marriage, and had a superb dress embroidered for the intended. these court marriages, requiring the consent of the empress, never took place till after years of delay, because her majesty herself fixed the day, forgot it, often for a long time, and, when reminded of it, put it off from time to time. this was the case in the present instance. we returned then to town in autumn, and i had the satisfaction of seeing the princess of courland and m. soltikoff thank her majesty for the consent she had been graciously pleased to give to their union. after all, the family of soltikoff was one of the oldest and noblest in the empire. it was even allied to the imperial family through the mother of the empress anne, who was a soltikoff, but of a different branch to the one in question; while m. biren, created duke of courland by the favour of the empress anne, was the son of a petty farmer on the estate of a gentleman in courland. the name of this farmer was biren; but the favour enjoyed by the son in russia induced the birons of france, at the persuasion of cardinal fleury, to acknowledge him; for fleury, anxious to gain over the court of russia, favoured the views and vanity of biren, duke of courland. on arriving in town, we learnt that besides the two days a-week set apart for french plays, there would also be, twice a-week, a masquerade ball. the grand duke added another day for concerts in his own apartments, and on sundays there was generally a court. one of these masquerade days was for the court exclusively, and for those whom the empress thought proper to admit; the other was for all the titled people who happened to be in the city, down to the rank of colonel, as well as those who served as officers in the guards. sometimes, also, the whole of the nobility and the most considerable of the merchants were admitted. the court balls did not exceed to people; those called public received as many as . when we were at moscow, in the year , the empress took a fancy to have the court masquerades so arranged that all the men should dress as women, and all the women as men, no masks being worn. it was precisely a court day metamorphosed. the men wore large whale-boned petticoats, with women's gowns, and the head-dresses worn on court days, while the women appeared in the court costume of men. the men did not like these reversals of their sex, and the greater part of them were in the worst possible humour on these occasions, because they felt themselves to be hideous in such disguises. the women looked like scrubby little boys, whilst the more aged amongst them had thick short legs, which were anything but ornamental. the only woman who looked really well, and completely a man, was the empress herself. as she was very tall and somewhat powerful, male attire suited her wonderfully well. she had the handsomest leg i have ever seen with any man, and her foot was admirably proportioned. she danced to perfection, and everything she did had a special grace, equally so whether she dressed as a man or as a woman. one always felt inclined to be looking at her, and turned away with regret because there was no object that could replace her. at one of these balls i watched her while dancing a minuet. after she had ended it she came to me. i took the liberty of saying that it was very fortunate for the women she was not a man, and that her portrait alone, painted as she then was, would be enough to turn many a head. she received my compliment in very good part, and answered me in the same style, saying, in the most gracious manner possible, "that were she a man, it would be to me that she would give the apple." i stooped to kiss her hand for a compliment so unexpected. she embraced me, and every one was curious to know what had passed between us. i made no secret of it to m. tchoglokoff, who whispered it to two or three others, and thus it passed from mouth to mouth until, in about a quarter of an hour, everybody knew it. during the last sojourn of the court at moscow, prince youssoupoff, senator and chief of the corps of cadets, had the command-in-chief of the city of st. petersburg, where he remained during the absence of the court. for his amusement, and that of the principal persons about him, he made his cadets play alternately the best tragedies; such as the russian ones which soumarokoff was then composing, and the french dramas of voltaire. these latter were spoiled. on her return from moscow, the empress ordered the dramas of soumarokoff to be played at court by these young men. she took pleasure in witnessing these representations, and it was soon noticed that she seemed to view them with more interest than could have been expected. the theatre, which was set up in one of the halls of the palace, was now transported into her own private apartments. she took pleasure in dressing up the actors, had magnificent dresses made for them, and loaded them with her jewelry. it was particularly noticed that the principal character, a rather handsome young man of eighteen or nineteen, was the most superbly dressed, as was natural. out of the theatre, also, he was observed to wear diamond buckles, rings, watches, very expensive lace and linen. finally, he left the corps of cadets, and the master of the hounds, count razoumowsky, the old favourite of the empress, immediately took him for his adjutant, which office gave him the rank of captain. the courtiers at once drew their own inferences in their usual way, and made it out that razoumowsky, in taking beketoff as his adjutant, could have no other motive than that of counterbalancing the favour enjoyed by m. schouvaloff, gentleman of the bedchamber, who was known to be on no good terms with the razoumowsky family; and, finally, it was concluded also, from the same circumstances, that this young man was coming into great favour with the empress. it was farther known that count razoumowsky had placed with his new adjutant another messenger, in his service, named john perfilievitch yelagine, who was married to a former lady's-maid of the empress. she it was who had furnished the young man with the linen and lace just spoken of, and, as she was anything but rich, it was easy to believe that the money for this expenditure did not come from her own purse. no one was more disturbed by the rising favour of this young man than my maid of honour, the princess gagarine, who was no longer young, and was anxious to make a suitable match. she had property of her own, but was not handsome; she was, however, clever and manoeuvring. this was the second time she had fixed her choice on a person who afterwards attained to the favour of the empress. the first was m. schouvaloff; the second, this beketoff, of whom we are speaking. there were a number of young and handsome women connected with the princess gagarine; and, besides, she belonged to an extensive family. all these accused m. schouvaloff of being the secret cause of the constant reprimands which the princess received from her majesty on the subject of dress, and the prohibitions issued, both to her and other young ladies, against wearing--sometimes one kind of dress, and sometimes another. in revenge for all this, the princess and all the prettiest women of the court said everything that was bad of m. schouvaloff, whom they all now hated, although previously he had been a great favourite. he sought to mollify them by showing them attentions, and saying pretty things to them, through his most intimate friends; but this was looked upon as an additional offence, and he was repelled and ill-received on all hands. all these ladies shunned him as they would the pestilence. meanwhile the grand duke had given me a little english barbet, which i had asked him for. i had in my service a stove-heater, named ivan ouchakoff, and my people took it into their heads to name my little spaniel after this man, calling him ivan ivanovitch. this barbet was a most comical little creature; he walked upon his hind legs like a human being, and was in general exceedingly playful, so that we dressed him up in a different style every day, and the more he was bundled up the more playful he became. he sat at table with us, had a napkin put round him, and eat out of his plate with great propriety. then he turned his head around and asked for drink, by yelping to the person who stood behind him. sometimes he got upon the table to take something that suited him, such as a little pâté, a biscuit, or the like, which made the company laugh. as he was small, and incommoded no one, he was suffered to do these things, for he did not abuse the liberty allowed him, and was, too, very clean. this barbet amused us the whole of this winter. the following summer we took him to oranienbaum, and the chamberlain soltikoff, junior, having come there with his wife, both she and the other ladies of our court did nothing but sew and work for him, making all sorts of clothes and head-dresses, and disputing with each other for his possession. at last, madame soltikoff got so fond of him, and the dog attached himself so much to her, that when she was going away he would not leave her, and she was as little willing to leave him. she entreated me so earnestly to allow him to go with her, that i made her a present of him. she took him under her arm, and went straight to the seat of her mother-in-law, who was then ill. this lady, seeing her arrive with the dog, and noticing the antics which she made him play, asked his name, and learning that it was ivan ivanovitch, she could not help expressing her astonishment in the presence of many persons, belonging to the court, who had come from peterhoff to see her. these returned to court, and, at the end of three or four days, the whole town was filled with a marvellous story, to the effect that all the young ladies who were hostile to m. schouvaloff, had each a white barbet, to which, in derision of the favourite of the empress, they gave the name of ivan ivanovitch, and which, also, they dressed in light colours, such as schouvaloff was fond of wearing. matters went so far that the empress signified to the parents of the young ladies, that she considered it impertinent of them to permit such things. the white barbet at once changed its name, but it continued to be caressed as before, and remained in the house of the soltikoffs, cherished by its masters till the day of its death, despite the imperial reprimand. in point of fact, the whole story was a calumny. this one dog was the only one so named, and, in giving him this name, m. schouvaloff was not thought of. as for madame tchoglokoff, who did not like the schouvaloffs, she pretended not to have noticed the name of the dog, although she was constantly hearing it, and had herself given the animal many a little pâté, while laughing at its gambols. during the latter months of this winter, and the numerous balls and the masquerades of the court, our two former gentlemen of the bedchamber, alexander villebois and zachar czernicheff, who had been placed as colonels in the army, again made their appearance. as they were sincerely attached to me, i was very glad to see and receive them; while they, on their part, neglected no opportunity of giving me evidences of their affectionate devotion. i was at that time very fond of dancing. at the public balls i generally changed my dress three times; my _parure_ was very _recherchée_, and if the masquerade dress which i wore happened to attract general approbation, i was certain never to wear it again; for it was a rule with me that if once it produced a great effect, it could not fail to produce an inferior one on a second occasion. in the court balls, at which the public did not assist, i dressed as simply as i could, and in so doing pleased the empress, who did not like too much display on these occasions. however, when the ladies were ordered to appear in male attire, i dressed magnificently, my clothes being richly embroidered on every seam, or otherwise in very refined taste, and this passed without criticism, nay, even pleased the empress; why i do not very well know. it must be confessed that at that period the efforts of coquetry were pushed to the extreme at this court; it was a constant struggle for distinction in splendour and elegance of dress. i remember, on the occasion of one of those masked balls, that every one was preparing new and most magnificent dresses, and, despairing of eclipsing others in this respect, the idea occurred to me of taking an opposite course. i put on a bodice of white gros de tours (at that time i had a very fine shape), with a petticoat of the same, over a very small hoop. my hair, which was then very long, thick, and beautiful, was arranged behind my head, and tied with a white ribbon, _en queue de renard_. a single rose, with its bud and leaves, was the only ornament i wore in it; another was placed in my corset; they imitated nature so perfectly as scarcely to be distinguished from the real. round my neck was a ruff of very white gauze, which with cuffs and an apron of the same material, completed my costume. thus attired, i went to the ball, and the moment i entered i saw plainly that all eyes were fixed on me. i crossed the gallery without stopping, and entered the corresponding apartments beyond it. here i met the empress, who instantly exclaimed, "good god, how simple! what, not even a patch!"[ ] i laughed, and said i did not wish to add to the weight of my dress. she drew from her pocket her box of patches, and choosing one of moderate size, applied it to my face. on leaving her i hastened to the gallery, where i pointed out my patch to my more intimate friends. i did the same to the favourites of the empress, and, as i was in high spirits, i danced more than usual. i never in my life remember to have been so highly complimented as on that occasion. i was said to be beautiful as the day--dazzlingly brilliant. i never, indeed, thought myself so very handsome, but i was pleasing; and it was in this point, i think, that my forte lay. i returned home very well satisfied with my plan of simplicity, while all the other costumes were of rare magnificence. it was in the midst of amusements like these that the year came to a close. madame d'arnheim danced better than she rode; and i remember, on one occasion, that we tried which of us would be soonest tired. it turned out to be her. she was obliged to sit down, and acknowledge that she could not hold out any longer, while i still went on. part ii. from , to the end of . at the beginning of the year the grand duke, who, like myself, felt great esteem and affection for the count de bernis, ambassador from the court of vienna, determined to consult him relative to the state of his affairs in holstein, to the debts which burdened that country, and the negotiations opened by denmark, to which he had consented to listen. he desired me also to mention the subject to the count. i said i would not fail to do so, since it was his wish. on the occasion of the next masquerade ball, therefore, i approached count de bernis, who was standing near the balustrade, within which the dance was going on, and told him that the grand duke had ordered me to speak to him respecting the affairs of holstein. the count listened to me with great interest and attention. i told him frankly that being young and without advisers, having probably also but inaccurate notions of business affairs, and no experience to advance in my favour, my ideas, such as they were, were my own; that i might be very deficient in information, but that it appeared to me, in the first place, that the affairs of holstein were not so desperate as some sought to represent them; that, besides, as to the exchange itself, i could very well understand that it might be more advantageous to russia than to the grand duke personally; that assuredly, as heir to the throne, the interests of the empire ought to be dear to him; that if for these interests it was necessary to abandon holstein in order to put an end to interminable discussions with denmark, then the only question would be to choose, before giving it up, a favourable moment for the surrender; that to me the present time did not appear to be such, either as regarded the interest or personal credit of the grand duke; that, however, a time might come when circumstances would render this act more important and more creditable to him, and, perhaps, also more advantageous for the empire of russia itself; but that at present the whole affair had a manifest air of intrigue, which, if it proved successful, would give an impression of feebleness on the part of the grand duke, from which he might suffer all his life in the estimation of the public; that it was but a few days, so to speak, since he had undertaken the management of that country; that he was extremely fond of the country, and yet, notwithstanding all this, he had been persuaded to exchange it, without very well knowing why, for the territory of oldenburg, with which he was not at all acquainted, and which was still farther off from russia; and that, besides, the port of kiel, if in the hands of the grand duke, might be important for russian navigation. the count de bernis entered into all my reasonings, and said, in conclusion, "as ambassador, i have no instructions on this matter, but as count bernis, i think you are right." the grand duke told me afterwards that the ambassador said to him, "all i can say to you in this matter is, that i think your wife is right, and that you will do well to listen to her." the grand duke consequently cooled very much upon the subject, and this, probably, was noticed, for it began to be mentioned to him more rarely. after easter we went, as usual, for some time to the summer palace at peterhoff, where, year by year, our stay became abridged. this year an occurrence took place which furnished the courtiers with matter for gossip: it was caused by the intrigues of the messieurs schouvaloff. colonel beketoff, of whom i have spoken above, not knowing what to do with himself during the favour which he enjoyed, although it increased to such a point that, from day to day, people were waiting to see which of the two would yield his place to the other, that is to say, beketoff to john schouvaloff, or the latter to beketoff--not knowing, as i have said, how to amuse himself, it occurred to him to have the empress' choir of singing boys perform at his own residence. in several of them he took a special interest, on account of the beauty of their voices; and as both himself and his friend yelagine were versifiers, they composed songs which the children sung. to this an odious interpretation was given; for it was well known that nothing was more detested by the empress than vice of such a nature. beketoff, in the innocence of his heart, would walk in the garden with these children; this was imputed to him as a crime. the empress went away to zarskoe-selo for a couple of days, and then returned to peterhoff, where m. beketoff received orders to remain, under the plea of indisposition. he did, in fact, remain there with yelagine, caught there a violent fever, which threatened his life, and in the ravings of his delirium, did nothing but talk about the empress, with whom he was thoroughly taken up. he recovered; but he remained in disgrace, and retired, after which he was placed in the army, where he was not successful. he was too effeminate for the profession of arms. in the meanwhile we proceeded to oranienbaum, where we went hunting every day. towards autumn, in the month of september, we returned to the city. the empress placed at our court m. leon narichkine as gentleman of the bedchamber. he immediately hastened from moscow with his mother, his brother, his brother's wife, and his three sisters. he was one of the most singular persons i have ever known, and no one has ever made me laugh so much as he has done. he was a born harlequin, and had he not been by birth what he was, he might have gained a subsistence, and a handsome one too, by his extraordinary talent for humour. he was not at all wanting in understanding. he had heard of everything, and everything arranged itself in his head after a fashion of his own. he could give a dissertation on any art or science he chose. he would employ all the technical terms belonging to his subject, and would talk to you for a quarter of an hour or more without stopping; and at the end, neither himself nor any one else would understand anything of the string of words which had flowed so readily from his lips, and the whole, of course, would finish with a general burst of laughter. among other things he said of history, that he did not like history in which there were _histories_,[ ] and that in order that a history should be good it must be devoid of _history_, that otherwise history became mere rant. but it was on politics that he was inimitable. when he began on this subject, it was impossible for any one, however serious, to resist him. he used to say, too, that of well-written plays the greater part were very wearisome. scarcely had he been appointed to the court when the empress sent orders to his eldest sister to marry a m. seniavine, who, for that purpose, was placed in our court as gentleman of the bedchamber. this was a thunderbolt for the young lady, who consented to this marriage with the greatest repugnance. it was very ill received by the public also, and all the blame of it was cast on m. schouvaloff, the favourite of the empress, who, before his rise to favour, had been very partial to this young lady, for whom they made up this bad match in order that he might lose sight of her. this was a species of persecution truly tyrannical. at last she married, became consumptive, and died. by the end of september, we returned to the winter palace. the court was at this time so badly off for furniture that the same mirrors, beds, chairs, tables, and drawers which served us at the winter palace, passed with us to the summer palace, and thence to peterhoff, following us even to moscow. a good number were broken and cracked in these different journeys, and, in this state of dilapidation, they were supplied to us; so that it was difficult to make use of them, while to get others an express order from the empress was required. as she was almost always very difficult of access, if not inaccessible, i resolved to buy, by degrees, with my own money, chests of drawers and the other more necessary articles of furniture, as well for the winter as the summer palace; so that when i passed from the one house to the other, i found everything i wanted without difficulty and without the inconveniences of transport. the grand duke was pleased with this arrangement, and he made a similar one in his own apartments. as for oranienbaum, which belonged to the grand duke, we had, at my cost, everything we needed in my private apartments. i procured all this at my own expense in order to avoid all dispute and difficulty; for his imperial highness, although very lavish where his own fancies were concerned, was not at all so in anything that regarded me; and generally he was anything but liberal. but as all i did in my own apartments and with my own purse served to embellish his house, he was quite content with it. during this summer madame tchoglokoff conceived such a special and real affection for me, that on our return to the capital she could not do without me, and was quite _ennuyée_ when i was not with her. the cause of this affection arose from my not responding to the advances which it had pleased her husband to make to me--a circumstance which gave me a peculiar merit in the eyes of his wife. when we returned to the winter palace, madame tchoglokoff invited me almost every evening to her rooms. there were not many people there, but always more than in my room, where i sat quite alone reading, except when the grand duke came in to walk up and down at a rapid pace, talking about things which interested himself, but which had no value in my eyes. these promenades would last one or two hours, and were repeated several times a-day. i was obliged to walk with him till my strength was quite exhausted, to listen with attention, and to answer him, though, for the most part, what he said had neither head nor tail; for he often gave the reins to his imagination. i remember that, during one whole winter, he was taken up with a project of building, near to oranienbaum, a pleasure-house in the form of a convent of capuchins, where he and i and all his suite should be dressed as capuchins. this dress he thought charming and convenient. every one was to have a donkey, and, in his turn, take this donkey and fetch water and bring provisions to the so-called convent. he used to laugh till he was ready to drop at the idea of the admirable and amusing effects which this invention was to produce. he made me draw a pencil-sketch of the plan of this precious work, and every day i had to add or remove something. however determined i was to comply with his humours, and bear everything with patience, i frankly avow that i was very often worn out with the annoyance of these visits, promenades, and conversations, which were insipid beyond anything i have ever seen. when he was gone, the most tiresome book appeared a delightful amusement. towards the end of autumn, the balls for the court and the public recommenced, as did also the rage for splendour and refinement in masquerade dresses. count zachar czernicheff returned to st. petersburg. as, on the ground of old acquaintance, i always treated him very well, it rested only with myself to give what interpretation i pleased to his attentions this time. he began by telling me that i had grown much handsomer. it was the first time in my life that anything of the kind had been said to me. i did not take it ill. nay, more; i was credulous enough to believe that he spoke the truth. at every ball there was some fresh remark of this kind. one day, the princess gagarine brought me a device from him, and, on breaking it, i perceived that it had been opened and gummed together again. the motto, as usual, was printed, but it consisted of a couple of verses, very tender and full of sentiment. after dinner, i had some devices brought to me. i looked for a motto which might serve as an answer, without compromising myself. i found one, put it into a device representing an orange, and gave it to the princess gagarine, who delivered it to count czernicheff. next morning she brought me another from him; but this time i found a motto of some lines, in his own hand. i answered it, and there we were in regular and quite sentimental correspondence. at the next masquerade, while dancing with him, he said he had a thousand things to tell me which he could not trust to paper, nor put in a device, which the princess gagarine might break in her pocket or lose on the way; and he entreated me to grant him a moment's audience either in my chamber, or wherever i might deem suitable. i told him that that was an utter impossibility, that my rooms were inaccessible, and that it was also impossible for me to leave them. he told me that he would, if necessary, disguise himself as a servant; but i refused point-blank, and so the matter went no farther than this secret correspondence by means of devices. at last the princess gagarine began to suspect its character, scolded me for making use of her, and would not receive any more of these missives. . amid these occurrences the year came to a close, and began. at the end of the carnival, count czernicheff left to join his regiment. a few days before his departure i required to be bled; it was on a saturday. the following wednesday, m. tchoglokoff invited me to his island, at the mouth of the neva. he had a house there, consisting of a saloon in the centre and some chambers on the sides. near this house he had some slides prepared. on arriving, i found there the count roman voronzoff, who, on seeing me, said, "i have just the thing for you; i have had an excellent little sledge made for the slides." as he had often taken me before, i accepted his offer, and the sledge was at once brought. in it was a kind of small fauteuil, on which i seated myself. he placed himself behind me, and we began to descend; but about half-way down the incline, the count was no longer master of the sledge, and it overturned. i fell, and the count, who was heavy and clumsy, fell on me, or rather on my left arm, in which i had been bled some four or five days before. we got up, and walked towards one of the court sledges, which was in waiting for those who descended to convey them back to the point from which they had started, so that any who wished might recommence the descent. while sitting in this sledge with the princess gagarine, who, with prince ivan czernicheff, had followed me, the latter, together with voronzoff, standing behind the sleigh, i felt a sensation of warmth spreading over my left arm, the cause of which i could not make out. i passed my right hand into the sleeve of my pelisse to see what was the matter, and having withdrawn it, i found it covered with blood. i told the counts and the princess that i thought my vein had reopened. they made the sleigh move faster, and instead of going again to the slides, we went to the house. there we found no one but a butler. i took off my pelisse, the butler gave me some vinegar, and count czernicheff performed the office of surgeon. we all agreed not to say a word about this adventure. as soon as my arm was set to rights, we returned to the slides. i danced the rest of the evening, then supped, and we returned home very late, without any one having the least idea of what had happened to me. however, the skin did not join smoothly for nearly a month; but it got all right by degrees. during lent i had a violent altercation with madame tchoglokoff, the cause of which was as follows: my mother had been for some time in paris. the eldest son of general ivan fedorovitch gleboff, upon his return from that capital, brought me, from her, two pieces of very rich and very beautiful stuff. while looking at them in my dressing-room, in the presence of skourine, who unfolded them, i chanced to say that they were so beautiful that i felt tempted to present them to the empress; and i really was watching an opportunity of speaking of them to her majesty, whom i saw but very rarely, and then, too, mostly in public. i said nothing about them to madame tchoglokoff. it was a present i reserved for myself to make. i forbade skourine to mention to any one what had fallen from my lips in his hearing. skourine, however, went instantly to madame tchoglokoff, and told her what i had said. a few days afterwards, madame tchoglokoff came into my room and told me that the empress sent me her thanks for my stuffs; that she had kept one of them and returned the other. i was thunderstruck on hearing this. i said to her, "how is this, madame tchoglokoff?" upon this she stated that she had carried the stuffs to the empress, having heard that i intended them for her majesty. for the moment i felt vexed beyond measure, more so indeed than i ever remember to have been before. i stammered; i could scarcely speak. however, i said that i had proposed to myself a treat in presenting these things to the empress myself, and that she had deprived me of this pleasure by carrying them off without my knowledge, and presenting them in that fashion to her imperial majesty; i reminded her that she could not know my intentions, as i had never spoken of them to her, or that if she was aware of them, it was only from the mouth of a treacherous servant, who had betrayed his mistress, who daily loaded him with kindness. madame tchoglokoff, who always had reasons of her own, replied, and maintained that i ought never speak to the empress myself about anything; that she had signified to me the order of her imperial majesty to this effect, and that my servants were in duty bound to report to her all that i said; that, consequently, skourine had only done his duty, and she hers, in carrying, without my knowledge, to her majesty the stuffs i had destined for her, and that the whole matter was quite in rule. i let her speak on, for rage stopped my utterance. at last she went away. i then entered a small ante-chamber, where skourine generally remained in the morning, and where my clothes were kept, and seeing him there, i gave him, with all my force, a well-aimed and heavy box on the ear. i told him he was a traitor, and the most ungrateful of men, for having dared to repeat to madame tchoglokoff what i had forbidden him to speak about; that i had loaded him with kindnesses, while he betrayed me even in such innocent words; that from that day forward i would never give him anything more, but would get him dismissed and well beaten. i asked him what he expected to gain by such conduct, telling him that i should always remain what i was, while the tchoglokoffs, hated and detested by every one, would, in the end, get themselves dismissed by the empress herself, who most assuredly would sooner or later discover their intense stupidity, and utter unfitness for the position in which the intrigues of a wicked man had placed them; that, if he chose, he might go and repeat to them all i had said; that he could not injure me by so doing, while he would soon see what would become of himself. the man fell at my feet crying bitterly, and begged my pardon with a repentance which appeared to me sincere. i was touched by it, and told him that his future conduct would show me what course i must take with him, and that by his behaviour i would regulate my own. he was an intelligent fellow, by no means deficient in character, and one who never broke his word to me. on the contrary, i have had the best proofs of his zeal and fidelity in the most difficult times. i complained to every one i could of the trick madame tchoglokoff had played me, in order that the matter might reach the empress' ears. the empress, when she saw me, thanked me for my present, and i learned from a third party, that she disapproved of the way in which madame tchoglokoff had acted. and thus the matter ended. after easter we went to the summer palace. i had observed for some time that the chamberlain, serge soltikoff, was more assiduous than usual in his attendance at court. he always came there in company with leon narichkine, who amused every one by his originality, of which i have already reported several traits. serge soltikoff was the aversion of the princess gagarine, of whom i was very fond, and in whom i even reposed confidence. leon narichkine was looked upon as a person of no sort of consequence, but very original. soltikoff insinuated himself as much as possible into the good graces of the tchoglokoffs. as these people were neither amiable, nor clever, nor amusing, he must have had some secret object in these attentions. madame tchoglokoff was at this time pregnant, and frequently indisposed. as she pretended that i amused her during the summer quite as much as in the winter, she often requested me to visit her. soltikoff, leon narichkine, the princess gagarine, and some others, were generally at her apartments, whenever there was not a concert at the grand duke's, or theatricals at court. the concerts were very wearisome to m. tchoglokoff, who always assisted at them; but soltikoff discovered a singular mode of keeping him occupied. i cannot conceive how he contrived to excite in a man so dull, and so utterly devoid of talent and imagination, a passion for versifying and composing songs which had not even common sense. but having made this discovery, whenever anyone wished to get rid of m. tchoglokoff, it was only necessary to ask him to make a new song. then, with much _empressement_, he would go and sit down in a corner of the room, generally near the stove, and set to work upon his song--a business which took up the evening. the song would be pronounced charming, and thus he was continually encouraged to make new ones. leon narichkine used to set them to music, and sing them with him; and while all this was going on, we conversed without restraint. i once had a large book of these songs, but i know not what has become of it. during one of these concerts, serge soltikoff gave me to understand what was the object of his assiduous attentions. i did not reply to him at first. when he again returned to the subject, i asked him what it was he wanted of me? hereupon he drew a charming and passionate picture of the happiness which he promised himself. i said to him, "but your wife, whom you married for love only two years ago, and of whom you were supposed to be passionately fond--and she, too, of you--what will she say to this?" he replied that all was not gold that glitters, and that he was paying dearly for a moment of infatuation. i did all i could to make him change his mind--i really expected to succeed in this--i pitied him. unfortunately, i listened also. he was very handsome, and certainly had not his equal at the imperial court, still less at ours. he was not wanting in mind, nor in that finish of accomplishments, manner, and style which the great world gives, and especially a court. he was twenty-six years old. take him all in all, he was by birth, and by many other qualities, a distinguished gentleman. as for his faults, he managed to hide them. the greatest of all was a love of intrigue and a want of principle. these were not unfolded to my eyes. i held out all the spring, and a part of the autumn. i saw him almost every day, and made no change in my conduct towards him. i was the same to him as i was to all others, and never saw him but in the presence of the court, or of a part of it. one day, to get rid of him, i made up my mind to tell him that he was misdirecting his attentions. i added, "how do you know that my heart is not engaged elsewhere?" this, however, instead of discouraging him, only made his pursuit all the more ardent. in all this there was no thought of the dear husband, for it was a known and admitted fact, that he was not at all amiable, even to the objects with whom he was in love; and he was always in love; in fact, he might be said to pay court to every woman, except the one who bore the name of his wife; she alone was excluded from all share of his attentions. in the midst of all this, tchoglokoff invited us to a hunting party on his island, whither we went in a skiff, our horses being sent on before. immediately on our arrival i mounted my horse, and we went to find the dogs. soltikoff seized the moment when the rest were in pursuit of the hares to approach me and speak of his favourite subject. i listened more attentively than usual. he described to me the plan which he had arranged for enshrouding, as he said, in profound mystery, the happiness which might be enjoyed in such a case. i did not say a word. he took advantage of my silence to persuade me that he loved me passionately, and he begged that i would allow him to hope, at least, that he was not wholly indifferent to me. i told him he might amuse himself with hoping what he pleased, as i could not prevent his thoughts. finally he drew comparisons between himself and others at the court, and made me confess that he was preferable to them. from that he concluded that he was preferred. i laughed at all this, but i admitted that he was agreeable to me. at the end of an hour and a-half's conversation, i desired him to leave me, since so long a conversation might give rise to suspicion. he said he would not go unless i told him that i consented. i answered, "yes, yes; but go away." he said, "then it is settled," and put spurs to his horse. i cried after him, "no, no;" but he repeated, "yes, yes." and thus we separated. on our return to the house, which was on the island, we had supper, during which there sprung up such a heavy gale from the sea, that the waves rose so high that they even reached the steps of the house. in fact, the whole island was under water to the depth of several feet. we were obliged to remain until the storm had abated, and the waters retreated, which was not until between two and three in the morning. during this time, soltikoff told me that heaven itself had favoured him that day, by enabling him to enjoy my presence for a longer time, with many other things to the same effect. he thought himself already quite happy. as for me, i was not at all so. a thousand apprehensions troubled me, and i was unusually dull, and very much out of conceit with myself. i had persuaded myself that i could easily govern both his passions and my own, and i found that both tasks were difficult, if not impossible. two days after this, soltikoff informed me that one of the grand duke's valets de chambre, bressan, a frenchman, had told him that his imperial highness had said in his room, "sergius soltikoff and my wife deceive tchoglokoff, make him believe whatever they like, and then laugh at him." to tell the truth, there was something of this kind, and the grand duke had perceived it. i answered, by advising him to be more circumspect for the future. some days afterwards i caught a very bad sore throat, which lasted more than three weeks, with a violent fever, during which the empress sent to me the princess kourakine, who was about to be married to prince lobanoff. i was to dress her hair. for this purpose she had to sit on my bed, in her court-dress and hooped petticoats. i did my best; but madame tchoglokoff, seeing that it was impossible for me to manage it, made her get off my bed, and finished dressing her herself. i have never seen the lady since then. the grand duke was at this period making love to mademoiselle martha isaevna schafiroff, whom the empress had recently placed with me, as also her elder sister, anna isaevna. serge soltikoff, who was a devil for intrigue, insinuated himself into the favour of these girls, in order to learn anything the grand duke might say to them relative to him. these young ladies were poor, rather silly, and very selfish, and, in fact, they became wonderfully confidential in a very short time. in the midst of all this we went to oranienbaum, where again i was every day on horseback, and wore no other than a man's dress, except on sundays. tchoglokoff and his wife had become as gentle as lambs. in the eyes of madame tchoglokoff i possessed a new merit; i fondled and caressed a great deal one of her children, who was with her. i made clothes for him, and gave him all sorts of playthings and dresses. now the mother was dotingly fond of this child, who subsequently became such a scapegrace that, for his pranks, he was sentenced to confinement in a fortress for fifteen years. soltikoff had become the friend, the confidant and the counsellor of m. and madame tchoglokoff. assuredly no person in his senses could ever have submitted to so hard a task as that of listening to two proud, arrogant, and conceited fools, talking nonsense all day long, without having some great object in view. many, therefore, were the guesses, many the suppositions, as to what this object could be. these reached peterhoff and the ears of the empress. now at this period it often happened that when her majesty wished to scold any one, she did not scold for what she might well complain of, but seized some pretext for finding fault about something which no one would ever have thought she could object to. this is the remark of a courtier; i have it from the lips of its author, zachar czernicheff. at oranienbaum, every one of our suite had agreed, men as well as women, to have, for this summer, dresses of the same colour; the body gray, the rest blue, with a collar of black velvet, and no trimmings. this uniformity was convenient in more respects than one. it was on this style of dress that she fixed, and more especially on the circumstance that i always wore a riding habit, and rode like a man at peterhoff. one court day the empress said to madame tchoglokoff that this fashion of riding prevented my having children, and that my dress was not at all becoming; that when she rode on horseback she changed her dress. madame tchoglokoff replied, that as to having children, this had nothing to do with the matter; that children could not come without a cause; and that, although their imperial highnesses had been married ever since , the cause nevertheless did not exist. thereupon her imperial majesty scolded madame tchoglokoff, and told her she blamed her for this, because she neglected to lecture, on this matter, the parties concerned; and on the whole, she showed much ill-humour, and said that her husband was a mere night-cap, who allowed himself to be worn by a set of dirty-nosed brats (_des morveux_). all this, in four-and-twenty hours, had reached their confidants. at this term of _morveux_, the _morveux_ wiped their noses; and, in a very special council held on the matter by them, it was resolved and decreed that, in order to follow out strictly the wishes of her imperial majesty, sergius soltikoff and leon narichkine should incur a pretended disgrace at the hands of m. tchoglokoff, of which perhaps he himself would not be at all aware; that under pretext of the illness of their relatives, they should retire to their homes for three weeks or a month, in order to allow the rumours which were current to die away. this was carried out to the letter, and the next day they departed, to confine themselves to their own houses for a month. as for me, i immediately changed my style of dress; besides, the other had now become useless. the first idea of this uniformity of attire had been suggested to us by the dress worn on court-days at peterhoff. the body was white, the rest green, and the whole trimmed all over with silver lace. soltikoff, who was of a dark complexion, used to say that he looked like a fly in milk, in this dress of white and silver. i continued to frequent the society of the tchoglokoffs as before, although it was now dreadfully wearisome. the husband and wife were full of regrets for the absence of the chief attractions of their society, in which most assuredly i did not contradict them. the illness of soltikoff prolonged his absence, and during it the empress sent us orders to come from oranienbaum and join her at cronstadt, whither she was about to proceed, in order to admit the waters into the canal of peter i. that emperor had commenced the work, and just then it was completed. she arrived at cronstadt before us. the night following was very stormy, and, as immediately on her arrival, she had sent us orders to join her, she supposed we must have been caught in the storm, and was in great anxiety all night. she fancied that a ship, which could be seen from her window, labouring in the sea, might be the yacht in which we were to make the voyage. she had recourse to the relics which she always kept by her bedside; carried them to the window, and kept moving them in a direction opposite to the ship which was tossing in the storm. she exclaimed repeatedly that we should certainly be lost, and that it would be all her fault, because a short time previously she had sent us a reprimand for not showing her more prompt obedience, and she now supposed we must have set out immediately on the arrival of the yacht. but, in fact, the yacht did not reach oranienbaum until after the storm, so that we did not go on board until the afternoon of the next day. we remained three days at cronstadt, during which the blessing of the canal took place with very great solemnity, and the waters were, for the first time, let into it. after dinner there was a grand ball. the empress wished to remain at cronstadt to see the waters let out again, but she left on the third day without this having been effected. the canal was never dried from that time, until, in my reign, i caused the steam-mill to be constructed which empties it. otherwise, the thing would have been impossible, the bottom of the canal being lower than the sea; but this was not perceived at that time. from cronstadt every one returned to his own quarters; the empress went to peterhoff, and we to oranienbaum. m. tchoglokoff asked and obtained leave to go for a month to one of his estates. during his absence madame tchoglokoff gave herself a great deal of trouble to execute the empress' orders to the letter. at first she had many conferences with bressan, the grand duke's valet de chambre. bressan found at oranienbaum a pretty woman named madame groot, the widow of a painter. it took several days to persuade her, to promise her i know not what, and then to instruct her in what they wanted of her, and to what she was to lend herself. at last bressan was charged with the duty of making this young and pretty widow known to the grand duke. i clearly saw that madame tchoglokoff was deep in some intrigue, but i knew not what. at last, serge soltikoff returned from his voluntary exile, and told me pretty nearly how matters stood. finally, after much trouble, madame tchoglokoff gained her end, and when she felt sure of this she informed the empress that everything was going on as she wished. she expected a great reward for her trouble; but in this she was much mistaken, for nothing was given her; however, she maintained that the empire was in her debt. immediately after this we returned to the city. it was at this time that i persuaded the grand duke to break off the negotiations with denmark. i reminded him of the advice of the count de bernis, who had already departed for vienna. he listened to me, and ordered the negotiations to be closed without anything being concluded: and this was done. after a short stay at the summer palace, we returned to the winter palace. it seemed to me that serge soltikoff was beginning to be relax in his attentions; that he became absent, sometimes absurd, arrogant, and dissipated. i was vexed at this, and spoke to him on the subject. he gave me but poor excuses, and pretended that i did not understand the extreme cleverness of his conduct. he was right, for i did think it strange enough. we were told to get ready for the journey to moscow, which we did. we left st. petersburg on the th of december, . soltikoff remained behind, and did not follow us for several weeks after. i left the city with some slight indications of pregnancy. we travelled very rapidly day and night. at the last stage before reaching moscow, these signs disappeared with violent spasms. on our arrival, and seeing the turn things were taking, i felt satisfied that i had had a miscarriage. madame tchoglokoff also remained behind at st. petersburg, as she had just been delivered of her last child, which was a girl. this was the seventh. on her recovery she joined us at moscow. . here we lodged in a wing built of wood, constructed only this autumn, and in such a way that the water ran down the wainscoting, and all the apartments were exceedingly damp. this wing consisted of two ranges of apartments, each having five or six large rooms, of which those looking to the street were for me, and those on the other side for the grand duke. in the one intended for my toilet, my maids and ladies of the bedchamber were lodged, together with their servants; so that there were seventeen girls and women lodged in one room, which had, it is true, three large windows, but no other outlet than my bed-room, through which, for every kind of purpose, they were obliged to pass, a thing neither pleasant for them nor for me. we were obliged to put up with this inconvenience, of which i have never seen the like. besides, the room in which they took their meals was one of my ante-chambers. i was ill when i arrived. to remedy this inconvenience, i had some very large screens placed in my bed-room, by means of which i divided it into three; but this was scarcely of any use, for the doors were opening and shutting continually, as was unavoidable. at last, on the tenth day, the empress came to see me, and observing the continual passing to and fro, she went into the other chamber, and said to my women, "i will have a different outlet made for you than through the sleeping-room of the grand duchess." but what did she do? she ordered a partition to be made, which took away one of the windows of a room in which, even before this, seventeen persons could hardly exist. here, then, was the chamber made smaller in order to gain a passage; the window was opened towards the street, a flight of steps was led up to it, and thus my women were obliged to pass and repass along the street. under their window, necessaries were placed for them; in going to dinner, they must again pass along the street. in a word, this arrangement was worthless, and i cannot tell how it was that these seventeen women, thus huddled up and crowded together, did not catch a putrid fever; and all this, too, close to my bed-room, which, in consequence, was so filled with vermin of every kind that i could not sleep. at last, madame tchoglokoff, having recovered after her accouchement, arrived at moscow, as did, some days later, serge soltikoff. as moscow is very large, and people much dispersed in it, he availed himself of this locality, so favourable to the purpose, to conceal the decrease of his attentions, feigned or real, at court. to tell the truth, i was grieved at this; however, he gave me such good and specious reasons for it, that as soon as i had seen him and spoken to him, my annoyance on the subject vanished. we agreed that, in order to decrease the number of his enemies, i should get some remark repeated to count bestoujeff which might lead him to hope that i was less averse to him than in former days. with this message i charged a person called bremse, who was employed in the holstein chancery of m. pechline. this person, when not at court, frequently went to the residence of the chancellor count bestoujeff. he eagerly accepted the commission, and brought me back word that the chancellor was delighted, and said that i might command him as often as i thought proper, and that if, on his part, he could be of any use to me, he begged me to point out to him some safe channel by which we might communicate with each other. i perceived his drift, and i told bremse that i would think of it. i repeated this to soltikoff, and it was immediately settled that he should go to the chancellor on the plea of a visit, as he had but just arrived. the old man gave him a most cordial reception; took him aside, spoke to him of the internal condition of our court, of the stupidity of the tchoglokoffs, saying, among other things, "i know, although you are their intimate friends, that you understand them as well as i do, for you are a young man of sense." then he spoke of me, and of my situation, just as if he had lived in my room; adding, "in gratitude for the good-will which the grand duchess has so kindly evinced for me, i am going to do her a little service, for which she will, i think, thank me. i will make madame vladislava as gentle as a lamb for her, so that she will be able to do with her whatever she pleases; she will see that i am not such an ogre as i have been represented to her." finally, serge soltikoff returned, enchanted with his commission and his man. he gave him some advice for himself, also, as wise as it was useful. all this made him very intimate with us, without any one having the least suspicion of the fact. in the meanwhile madame tchoglokoff, who never lost sight of her favourite project of watching over the succession, took me aside one day and said, "listen to me, i must speak to you with all sincerity." i opened my eyes and ears, and not without cause. she began with a long preamble, after her fashion, respecting her attachment to her husband, her own prudent conduct, what was necessary and what was not necessary for ensuring mutual love and facilitating conjugal ties; and then she went on to say, that occasionally there were situations in which a higher interest demanded an exception to the rule. i let her talk on without interruption, not knowing what she was driving at, a good deal astonished, and uncertain whether it was not a snare she was laying for me, or whether she was speaking with sincerity. just as i was making these reflections in my own mind, she said to me, "you shall presently see whether i love my country, and whether i am sincere; i do not doubt but you have cast an eye of preference upon some one or other; i leave you to choose between sergius soltikoff and leon narichkine--if i do not mistake, it is the latter." here i exclaimed, "no no! not at all." "well, then," she said, "if it be not narichkine, it is soltikoff." to that i made no reply, and she went on saying, "you shall see that it will not be i who will throw difficulties in your way." i played the simpleton to such a degree, that she scolded me for it several times, both in town and in the country, whither we went after easter. it was at that time, or thereabout, that the empress gave to the grand duke the lands of liberitza, and several others, at a distance of fourteen or fifteen verstes from moscow. but before we went to reside on these new possessions of his imperial highness, the empress celebrated the anniversary of her coronation at moscow. this was the th of april. it was announced to us that she had ordered the ceremony to be observed exactly as it had been on the very day of her coronation. we were curious to know how this would be. the evening before, she went to sleep at the kremlin. we stayed at the sloboda, in the wooden palace, and received orders to go to mass at the cathedral. at nine o'clock in the morning we started from the wooden palace in the state carriage, our servants walking on foot. we traversed the whole of moscow, step by step--the distance through the city being as much as seven verstes--and we alighted at the cathedral. a few moments after the empress arrived with her retinue, wearing the small crown on her head, and the imperial mantle, borne as usual by her chamberlains. she went to her ordinary seat in the church, and in all this there was, as yet, nothing unusual--nothing that was not practised at all the other fêtes of her reign. the church was damp and cold to a degree that i had never before felt. i was quite blue, and frozen in my court-dress and with bare neck. the empress sent me word to put on a sable tippet, but i had not one with me. she ordered her own to be brought, took one, and put it on her neck. i saw another in the box, and thought she was going to send it to me, but i was mistaken--she sent it back. this i thought a pretty evident sign of displeasure. madame tchoglokoff, who saw that i was shivering, procured me, from some one, a silk kerchief, which i put round my neck. when mass and the sermon were over, the empress left the church, and we were preparing to follow her, when she sent us word that we might return home. it was then we learned that she was going to dine alone on the throne, and that in this respect the ceremonial would be observed just as it was on the day of her coronation, when she had dined alone. excluded from this dinner, we returned, as we had come, in great state, our people on foot, making a journey of fourteen verstes, going and returning, through the city of moscow, and we benumbed with cold and dying of hunger. if the empress seemed to us in a very bad temper during mass, this disagreeable evidence of want of attention, to say no more, did not leave us in the best of humours either. at the other great festivals, when she dined on the throne, we had the honour of dining with her; this time she repelled us publicly. returning alone in the carriage with the grand duke, i told him what i thought of this, and he said that he would complain of it. on reaching home, half dead with cold and fatigue, i complained to madame tchoglokoff of having caught cold. the next day there was a ball at the wooden palace; i said i was ill, and did not go. the grand duke really did make some complaint or other to the schouvaloffs on the subject, and they sent him some answer, which appeared satisfactory to him, and nothing more was said about the matter. about this time we learned that zachar czernicheff and colonel nicholas leontieff had had a quarrel, while at play, in the house of roman voronzoff; that they had fought with swords, and that zachar czernicheff had received a severe wound in the head. it was so serious that he could not be removed from count voronzoff's house to his own. he remained there, was very ill, and there was some talk of trepanning him. i was very sorry for him, for i liked him very much. leontieff was arrested by order of the empress. this combat set the whole city in a ferment, on account of the extensive connections of both the champions. leontieff was the son-in-law of the countess roumianzoff, a very near relative of the panines and kourakines. the other, also, had relatives, friends, and protectors. the occurrence had taken place at the house of count roman voronzoff; the wounded man was still there. at last, when the danger was over, the affair was hushed up, and matters went no farther. in the course of the month of may, i again had indications of pregnancy. we went to liberitza, an estate of the grand duke, twelve or fourteen verstes from moscow. the stone house which was on it, had been built a long time ago by prince menchikoff, and was now falling to decay, so that we could not live in it. as a substitute, tents were set up in the court, and every morning, at two or three o'clock, my sleep was broken by the sound of the axe, and the noises made in building a wooden wing, which was being hurriedly erected, within two paces, so to speak, of our tents, in order that we might have a place to live in during the remainder of the summer. the rest of our time we spent in hunting, walking, or riding. i no longer went on horseback, but in a cabriolet. about the feast of st. peter we returned to moscow. i was seized with such drowsiness that i slept every day till noon, and then it was only with difficulty that i was awakened in time for dinner. the feast of st. peter was kept in the usual way: i was present at mass, at the dinner, the ball, and the supper. next morning i felt great pains in my loins. madame tchoglokoff summoned a midwife, who predicted the miscarriage, which actually occurred the following night. i might have been with child two or three months. for thirteen days i was in great danger, as it was suspected that a portion of the after-birth had remained behind. this circumstance was kept a secret from me. at last, on the thirteenth day, it came away of itself--without pain, or even a struggle. in consequence of this accident i had to keep my room for six weeks, during which the heat was insupportable. the empress came to see me the day i fell ill, and appeared to be affected by my state. during the six weeks that i kept my room i was nearly tired to death. the only society i had was madame tchoglokoff, who came but rarely, and a little kalmuck girl, whom i liked for her pretty, agreeable ways. i frequently cried from ennui. as for the grand duke, he was mostly in his own room, where one of his valets, a ukrainian, named karnovitch, a fool as well as a drunkard, did his best to amuse him; furnishing him with toys, with wine, and such other strong liquors as he could procure, without the knowledge of m. tchoglokoff, who, in fact, was deceived and made a fool of by every one. but in these nocturnal and secret orgies with the servants of the chamber, among whom were several young kalmucks, the grand duke often found himself ill-obeyed and ill-served; for, being drunk, they knew not what they did, and forgot that they were with their master, and that that master was the grand duke. then his imperial highness would have recourse to blows with his stick, or the blade of his sword; but in spite of all this, he was ill-obeyed; and more than once he had recourse to me, complaining of his people, and begging me to make them listen to reason. on these occasions i used to go to his rooms, give them a good scolding, and remind them of their duties, when they would instantly resume their proper places. this made the grand duke often say to me, and also to bressan, that he could not conceive how i managed those people; for, as for himself, though he belaboured them soundly, yet he could not make them obedient, while i, with a single word, could get them to do whatever i wished. one day when i went for this purpose into the apartments of his imperial highness, i beheld a great rat, which he had had hung--with all the paraphernalia of an execution--in the middle of a cabinet, formed by means of a partition. i asked him what all this meant. he told me that this rat had committed a crime; one which, according to the laws of war, was deserving of capital punishment; it had climbed over the ramparts of a fortress of cardboard which he had on the table in his cabinet, and had eaten two sentinels, made of pith, who were on duty at the bastions. he had had the criminal tried by martial law, his setter having caught him, and he was immediately hung, as i saw, and was to remain there exposed to the public gaze for three days, as an example. i could not help bursting into a loud laugh at the extreme folly of the thing; but this greatly displeased him. seeing the importance he attached to the matter, i retired, excusing myself on account of my ignorance, as a woman, of military law; but this did not prevent his being very much out of humour with me on account of my laughter. in justification of the rat, however, it may at least be said, that he was hung without having been questioned or heard in his own defence. during this stay of the court at moscow, it happened that one of the court footmen became insane, and violently so. the empress gave orders that her chief physician, boërhave, should take charge of him. he was placed in a chamber close to that of boërhave, who resided at court. besides this case, it also happened that several other persons went out of their mind this year. in proportion as these cases came under the notice of the empress, she had the persons brought to court and lodged near boërhave, so that they formed a sort of mad-house at court. i remember that the principal persons among them was tchedajeff, a major of the semenofsky guards; a lieutenant-colonel lintrum; a major tchoglokoff; a monk of the convent of voskresensky, who emasculated himself with a razor, and several others. the madness of tchedajeff consisted in his believing nadir-schah, otherwise thamas-kuli-khan, the usurper and tyrant of persia, to be god. when the physicians could not succeed in curing him of his delusion, they placed him in the hands of the priests. these persuaded the empress to have him exorcised. she herself assisted at the ceremony; but tchedajeff remained, to all appearance, as mad as before. there were, however, people who had doubts of his lunacy, as he was quite reasonable on every other point, but that of nadir-schah; his friends even consulted him about their affairs, and he gave them very sensible advice. those who did not believe him mad, gave as a reason for his affectation of madness his having had some trouble on his hands, from which he extricated himself by this ruse. at the beginning of the empress' reign he had been supervisor of taxes, had been accused of extortion, and was threatened with a trial, in dread of which he took up this fancy, which extricated him from the difficulty. in the middle of august, , we returned to the country. to keep the th of september, the feast of the empress, she went to the convent of voskresensky. whilst there, the church was struck with lightning; fortunately her imperial majesty was in a chapel at the side of the great church, and only learnt the fact through the terror of the courtiers; however, there was no one either hurt or killed by the accident. a little while afterwards she returned to moscow, whither we also repaired from liberitza. upon our return to the city, we saw the princess of courland kiss the empress' hand in public for the permission which had been given her to marry prince george hovansky. she had quarrelled with the object of her first engagement, peter soltikoff, who immediately afterwards married a princess sonzoff. on the st of november of this year, at three o'clock in the afternoon, i was in madame tchoglokoff's room, when her husband, serge soltikoff, leon narichkine, and several other gentlemen of the court, left us to go to the apartments of the chamberlain schouvaloff, to congratulate him on his birthday, which fell on that day. madame tchoglokoff, the princess gagarine, and i were talking together, when, after hearing some noise in a little chapel close by, a couple of these gentlemen ran in, telling us that they had been prevented from passing through the halls of the chateau, as it was on fire. i immediately went to my room, and, as i passed through an ante-chamber, i saw that the balustrade at the corner of the great hall was on fire. it was about twenty paces from our wing. on entering my apartments, i found them already filled with soldiers and servants, who were removing the furniture, and carrying off everything they could. madame tchoglokoff followed me, and as there was nothing more to be done but wait till it caught fire, we left. at the gate we found the carriage of the chapel-master, araga, who had come to attend a concert given by the grand duke, whom i had already informed of the accident. we entered the carriage: the streets were covered with mud, in consequence of the previous heavy rains. here we had a view of the fire and of the way in which the people were carrying out the furniture from every part of the house. i here saw a strange sight, viz: the astonishing number of rats and mice which were descending the staircase in file without over-much hurrying themselves. the want of engines rendered it impossible to save this immense wooden structure, and, besides, the few that were there were kept under the very staircase which was on fire; this, too, occupied very nearly the centre of the surrounding buildings, which covered a space of some two or three verstes in circumference. the heat became so great that we could not bear it, so that we were obliged to have the carriage driven some few hundred paces outwards. at last m. tchoglokoff and the grand duke came and told us that the empress was going to pokrovsky house, and had given orders that we should go to m. tchoglokoff's, which formed the right hand corner of the main street of the sloboda. we at once repaired thither. the house had a hall in the centre and four chambers on each side. it was hardly possible to be more uncomfortable than we were here; the wind blew in every direction, the windows and doors were all half rotten, and the planks of the floor open to the breadth of three or four inches; besides this, there was vermin everywhere. here resided the children and servants of m. tchoglokoff. as we entered they were sent out, and we were lodged in this horrible house, which was almost bare of furniture. on the day after we took up our abode here, i saw what a kalmuck's nose could hold. the little girl whom i kept near me, on my waking, pointed to her nose, and said, "i have a nut here." i felt her nose, but could not find anything. all the morning, however, she kept repeating, over and over again, that she had a nut in her nose. she was a child of from four to five years old. no one could tell what she meant by a nut in her nose. but about noon, as she was running along, she fell down, and struck against the table. this made her cry; while crying, she took out her pocket-handkerchief and wiped her nose, and in doing so the nut fell from it. i saw this myself, and could then understand how a nut, which could not be held in any european nose without being perceived, might be held in the hollow of a kalmuck nose, which is placed within the head between two immense cheeks. our clothes, and everything else, had been left in the mud in front of the burning palace, and were brought to us during the night and following day. what i most regretted was my books. i was at this time just finishing the fourth volume of bayle's dictionary: i had spent two years in reading it, and got through a volume every six months. from this one may judge of the solitude in which my life was passed. at last my books were brought to me. my clothes were found, those of the countess schouvaloff, etc. madame vladislava showed me, as a curiosity, this lady's petticoats. they were lined behind with leather, as she was unable to retain her water--an infirmity which had afflicted her ever since her first accouchement. all her petticoats were impregnated with the smell, and i sent them back in all haste to the owner. in this fire the empress lost all that had been brought to moscow of her immense wardrobe. she did me the honour of telling me that she had lost , dresses, and that of all these the only one that she regretted was the one made from the piece of stuff which i had received from my mother. she also lost, on this occasion, several other valuables; amongst them a bowl covered with engraved stones, which count roumianzoff had purchased at constantinople, and for which he had paid , ducats. all those effects had been placed in a wardrobe over the hall which had caught fire. this hall served as a vestibule to the grand hall of the palace. at ten o'clock in the morning, the men whose duty it was to light the stoves had come to heat this entrance-hall. after putting the wood into the stove, they lighted it as usual. this done, the room became filled with smoke; they thought that it escaped by some imperceptible holes in the stove, and set to work to cover with clay the interstices of the tiles. the smoke increasing, they tried to find some chinks in the stove, but not finding any, they perceived that the outlet must be between the partitions of the apartment. these partitions were only of wood. they got water, and put out the fire in the stove, but the smoke still increased, and made its way into the ante-chamber, where there was a sentinel of the horse-guards. the latter, expecting to be suffocated, and not daring to move from his post, broke a pane of glass, and began to cry out; but no one coming to his assistance, nor hearing him, he fired his musket through the window. the report was heard by the main guard, which was posted opposite the palace. they ran to him, and on coming in, found the place filled with a dense smoke, out of which they withdrew the sentinel. the stove heaters were put under arrest. they had hoped to extinguish the fire, or at least prevent the smoke from increasing without being obliged to give any alarm; and they had been hard at work with this view for five hours. this fire gave rise to a discovery on the part of m. tchoglokoff. the grand duke had in his apartments several very large chests of drawers. as they were being carried out, some of the drawers, being either open or badly fastened, disclosed to the spectators what they were filled with. who would have thought it? the drawers contained nothing but a great quantity of bottles of wine and strong liquors. they served his imperial highness for a cellar. tchoglokoff spoke to me on the matter, and i told him i was quite ignorant of the circumstance, which was the truth; i knew nothing of it, but i was a frequent, indeed, almost a daily witness of the grand duke's drunkenness. after the fire we remained in tchoglokoff's house for nearly six weeks. while residing here, we often had to pass in front of a house, situated in a garden near the soltikoff bridge. it belonged to the empress, and was called the bishop's house, because she had bought it of a bishop. the idea occurred to us of asking her majesty, unknown to the tchoglokoffs, to allow us to occupy it, for it appeared to us, and we were also told that it was, more habitable than the one we were in. we received orders to go and take up our abode in the bishop's house. it was a very old wooden house, from which there was no view, but it was built on stone vaults, and by this means was higher than the one we had just quitted, which had only a ground floor. the stoves were so old, that when lighted, one could see the fire through the furnace, so numerous were the chinks and cracks, while the rooms were filled with smoke. we all had headaches and sore eyes. in fact, we ran the risk of being burnt alive in this house. there was only one wooden staircase, and the windows were very high. the place actually did catch fire two or three times while we were there, but we succeeded in extinguishing the flames. i caught there a bad sore throat, with a great deal of fever. the day i fell ill, m. de breithardt, who had returned to russia on the part of the austrian court, was to sup with us, previously to taking leave. he found me with red and swollen eyes, and thought i had been crying: nor was he mistaken: ennui, indisposition, and the physical and moral discomforts of my position had given me much hypochondria. during the whole day, which i passed with madame tchoglokoff, waiting for those who never came, she kept saying every moment, "see how they desert us." her husband had dined out, and taken everybody with him. in spite of all the promises which serge soltikoff had made us to steal away from this dinner party, he only returned with m. tchoglokoff. all this put me in a very bad humour. at last, some days afterwards, we were allowed to go to liberitza. here we thought ourselves in paradise; the house was quite new, and tolerably well fitted up. we danced every evening, and all our court was collected there. at one of these balls we saw the grand duke occupied a long while in whispering to m. tchoglokoff, who, subsequently, appeared vexed, absent, and more close and scowling than usual. serge soltikoff seeing this, and finding that tchoglokoff treated him with great coolness, went and sat down by the side of mademoiselle martha schafiroff, and tried to discover what could be the meaning of this unusual intimacy between the grand duke and m. tchoglokoff. she told him that she did not know, but that the grand duke had on several occasions said to her, "serge soltikoff and my wife deceive tchoglokoff in the most unheard-of way. he is in love with the grand duchess; but she cannot endure him: soltikoff is the confidant of tchoglokoff, and makes him believe that he is working for him with my wife, while instead of that he is working for himself with her. she can very well endure soltikoff, for he is amusing: she makes use of him to manage tchoglokoff just as she pleases, and, in reality, she laughs at them both. i must undeceive that poor devil tchoglokoff, who excites my pity. i must tell him the truth, and then he will see who is his true friend--my wife or i." as soon as soltikoff became aware of this dangerous dialogue, and of his delicate position in consequence, he repeated it to me, and then went and seated himself by the side of tchoglokoff, and asked him what was the matter with him. the latter at first was unwilling to enter into any explanation, and merely sighed; then he began uttering jeremiads on the difficulty of finding faithful friends. at last soltikoff turned and twisted him in so many different directions, that he drew from him an avowal of the conversation which he had just had with the grand duke. no one certainly could have formed any idea of what had passed between them, without being told of it. the grand duke began by making great protestations of friendship to tchoglokoff, saying that it was only in the most important circumstances of life that it was possible to distinguish true friends from false; that to show the sincerity of his own friendship, he was going to give him a very emphatic proof of his frankness; that he knew, beyond doubt, that he was in love with me; that he did not impute it to him as a crime that i should appear agreeable to him, for that no one was master of his own heart; but that, nevertheless, he ought to apprise him that he had made a bad choice of confidants, and in his simplicity believed serge soltikoff to be his friend, and working in his interest with me, whereas he was only working for himself, and he suspected he was his rival; that, as for me, i laughed at them both, but if m. tchoglokoff would follow his advice and trust in him then he would see that he was his only and true friend. m. tchoglokoff gave the grand duke many thanks for his friendship, and his proffers of friendship; but in reality he considered all the rest as mere chimeras and delusions on his part. it may easily be believed that, in any case, he did not much wish for a confidant who, both by his rank and character, was as little to be trusted as he was able to be useful. this matter being once stated, soltikoff had but little trouble in restoring tranquillity to tchoglokoff's mind, for he was not in the habit of attaching much importance nor paying much attention to the discourses of a person so devoid of judgment, and so generally known to be so. when i learnt all this, i must confess i was extremely indignant with the grand duke, and, to prevent his returning to the subject, i told him that i was not ignorant of what had passed between him and tchoglokoff. he blushed, said nothing, went off, sulked, and so the matter ended. on returning to moscow, we left the bishop's house for apartments in what was called the empress' summer house, which had not been burnt. the empress had had new apartments constructed in the space of six weeks. for this purpose beams had been transported from perova house, from count hendrikoff's, and from the dwelling of the princes of georgia. at last she took possession of these rooms about the beginning of the new year. . the empress kept the new-year's day of in this palace, and the grand duke and i had the honour of dining with her in public on the throne. at table, her majesty seemed very lively and talkative. around the throne, tables were laid for several hundred persons of the highest rank. at dinner the empress asked who was that thin and ugly woman, with a crane's neck, whom she saw seated there (pointing to the place); she was told it was mademoiselle martha schafiroff. she burst into a laugh, and, turning to me, remarked that this reminded her of a russian proverb, which said, "a long neck is only good for hanging." i could not but smile at the point of this imperial sarcasm, which did not fall unheeded, for the courtiers passed it on from mouth to mouth, so that on rising from table, i found several persons who already knew of it. whether the grand duke heard it, i know not, but at all events he did not allude to it, and i took care not to mention it to him. never was a year more fertile in fires than that of - . i have several times seen, from the windows of my apartments in the summer palace, two, three, four, and even five fires at once in different parts of moscow. during the carnival, the empress gave orders for several balls and masquerades to be given in her apartments, at one of which i saw her engaged in a long conversation with the wife of general matiouchkine. this lady was unwilling that her son should marry the princess gagarine. but the empress persuaded her, and the princess gagarine, who numbered a good thirty years, had permission to marry m. dmitri matiouchkine. she was much pleased at this, and so was i. it was a marriage of inclination. matiouchkine was at this time very handsome. madame tchoglokoff did not come with us to our summer apartments. under different pretexts she remained, with her children, in her own house, which was very near the court. but the truth is, that, virtuous and loving wife as she was, she had conceived a passion for prince peter repnine, and a marked aversion for her husband. she thought she could not be happy without a confidant, and i appeared to her the most trustworthy person. she showed me all the letters she received from her lover. i kept her secret faithfully, with scrupulous exactitude and prudence. her interviews with the prince were very secret; yet in spite of this the husband had some suspicions. an officer of the horse-guards named kaminine, had given rise to them. this man was jealousy and suspicion personified: it was his nature. he was an old friend of tchoglokoff. the latter opened his mind to serge soltikoff, who endeavoured to tranquillize him. i was careful not to tell soltikoff anything i knew, for fear of some involuntary indiscretion on his part. at last the husband also sounded me a little. i pretended ignorance and astonishment, and held my tongue. in the month of february i had some signs of pregnancy. on easter sunday, during mass, tchoglokoff fell ill of the dry cholic; they gave him various remedies, but his disease only grew worse. during easter week, the grand duke, with the gentlemen of our court, went out riding. serge soltikoff was of the number. i remained at home, for they were afraid to let me go out in my present condition, especially as i had twice miscarried. i was alone in my room when m. tchoglokoff sent me a request to come to him. i went, and found him in bed. he made a thousand complaints of his wife; told me she saw prince repnine; that he went to her house on foot; that, during the carnival, he had gone there, one courtball day, dressed as a harlequin; that kaminine had had him followed; in short, god only knows all the details he gave me. just as he was most excited, his wife arrived; whereupon he began, in my presence, to load her with reproaches, telling her that she deserted him in his sickness. they were both very suspicious and narrow-minded. i was nearly frightened to death lest his wife should suspect that it was i who had betrayed her, from the mass of details which he then went into relative to her interviews. his wife, on the other hand, told him that it was not strange if she punished him for his conduct towards her; that neither he, nor any one else, could reproach her with having ever until now failed in her duty towards him in any respect; and she ended with saying that it ill became him to complain. both appealed continually to me as a witness of what they said. i held my tongue, fearing to offend the one or the other, or compromise myself: my face was burning from apprehension. i was alone with them. when the quarrel was at its highest, madame vladislava came in to tell me that the empress had just entered my room. i ran back immediately. madame tchoglokoff left at the same time, but, instead of following me, she stopped in a corridor, where there was a staircase leading into the garden, and there, as i was afterwards told, she sat down. as for myself, i reached my room quite out of breath, and found the empress there. as she saw that i was out of breath and rather red, she asked where i had been. i told her that i was just come from the apartments of m. tchoglokoff, who was ill, and that i had run in order to get back as quickly as possible, having been informed that she had condescended to come to my rooms. she did not ask me any more questions, but seemed to me to be dwelling upon what i had said, as if it appeared strange to her. nevertheless, she continued speaking to me. she did not ask where the grand duke was, for she knew he had gone out. neither he nor i, during the whole of her reign, dared to go out in the city or leave the house, without first sending to ask her permission. madame vladislava was in the room: the empress addressed her several times, then spoke to me, and always of indifferent matters: finally, after a visit of nearly half an hour, she went away, saying that, in consequence of my pregnancy, she would dispense with my appearing on the st and th of april. i was surprised that madame tchoglokoff had not followed. when the empress had gone, i asked madame vladislava what had become of her. she informed me that she had sat down on the stairs, and burst into tears. upon the return of the grand duke, i recounted to serge soltikoff what had occurred during their absence; how tchoglokoff had sent for me; my alarm at what had been said between the husband and wife, and the visit which the empress had paid me. his answer was: "if that be the case, i am of opinion that the empress must have come to see what you do in the absence of your husband; and, in order that it may be seen that you are perfectly alone, both in your own apartments and in those of the tchoglokoffs, i will be off, and take all my comrades to the house of ivan schouvaloff, just as we are, bespattered with mud up to our eyes." and, in fact, when the grand duke retired, he went off with all those who had been riding with his imperial highness to ivan schouvaloff, who had apartments at the court. when they arrived there, schouvaloff asked them questions about their ride, and soltikoff told me afterwards that, from these questions, it seemed to him that he had been correct in his inference. from this day the illness of tchoglokoff grew worse and worse. on the st of april--my birth-day--the physicians pronounced him beyond hope of recovery. the empress was informed of this, and gave orders (as she was accustomed to do) that he should be carried to his own house, in order that he might not die at court, for she was afraid of the dead. i was very much grieved on learning his condition. he died at the very time when, after many years of trouble and pain, we had succeeded in rendering him not only less ill-natured and mischievous, but even tractable, and when, by dint of studying his character, we had acquired the power of managing him as we pleased. as for his wife, she at this time loved me sincerely, and, from a harsh and spiteful argus, had become a firm and attached friend. tchoglokoff, after his removal to his own house, lived until the afternoon of the th of april, the day of the empress' coronation, when he died. i was immediately informed of the event, as i kept constantly sending to his house. i was truly sorry for him, and wept a good deal. his wife, too, was confined to her bed during the last days of her husband's illness; he was at one side of the house, she in the other. serge soltikoff and leon narichkine happened to be in her room at the moment of her husband's death; the windows being open, a bird flew into the room, and alighted on the cornice of the ceiling, right opposite to madame tchoglokoff's bed. upon seeing this, she said, "i am certain that my husband has just breathed his last; send and ask how he is." she was informed that he was really dead. she said that that bird was the soul of her husband. they tried to prove to her that the bird was an ordinary bird; but then it could not be found. they said it had flown away, but as no one had seen it, she remained convinced that it was the soul of her husband who had come to find her. as soon as the funeral was over, madame tchoglokoff wished to come to my rooms. the empress seeing her passing along the yaousa bridge, sent her word that she would dispense with her attendance on me, and that she might return to her own house. her imperial majesty took it ill that, as a widow, she should have gone out so soon. the same day she named m. alexander ivanovitch schouvaloff to discharge the duties of the late m. tchoglokoff in the grand duke's court. now this m. schouvaloff, not so much on his own account as from the place he held, was the terror of the court, the city, and the whole empire. he was the chief of the tribunal of the state inquisition, which was then called the secret chancery. his functions, it was said, had given him a sort of convulsive movement, which seized the whole of the right side of his face from the eye to the jaw, whenever he was affected either with joy, anger, fear, or anxiety. it was astonishing that such a man, with so hideous a grimace, should ever have been chosen for a post which placed him continually in the presence of a pregnant young woman. had i been delivered of an infant having that same wretched twitch, i think the empress would have been greatly vexed, and this might have happened, seeing him as i did constantly, never with my own wish, and, for the greater part of the time, with a shudder of involuntary repugnance, on account of his personal appearance, his connections, and his office, by which, as may easily be imagined, the pleasure of his society was not likely to be augmented. but this was only a beginning of the "good times" they were preparing for us, and especially for me. the next morning i was informed that the empress was going to place with me again the countess roumianzoff. i knew that she was the sworn enemy of serge soltikoff, that she bore no love to the princess gagarine, and that she had greatly injured my mother in the estimation of the empress. the moment i became aware of this arrangement, i lost all patience. i wept bitterly, and told count schouvaloff that if the countess roumianzoff was placed with me i should look upon it as a great misfortune; that this lady had already injured my mother, had blackened her in the eyes of the empress, and that now she would do the same with me; that she was feared as a pest when she was formerly in our suite, and that there would be many rendered miserable by the arrangement if he could not find means to prevent it. he promised to do what he could, and tried to tranquillize me. as, in my situation, he dreaded the effect of such excitement, he went at once to the empress, and on his return told me that he hoped the countess roumianzoff would not be placed about my person. and, in fact, i heard no more of the matter, and nothing was now thought of but our departure for st. petersburg. it was settled that we should be twenty-nine days on the road; that is to say, that we should only travel one post-station each day. i was frightened to death lest serge soltikoff and leon narichkine should be left behind at moscow; but i know not how it was, they had the condescension to inscribe their names in the list of our suite. at last, on the th, or the th, we set out from the palace of moscow. i was in a carriage with the wife of count alexander schouvaloff, the most tiresome woman that it is possible to imagine. madame vladislava, and the midwife, whom, as i was pregnant, they said i could not do without, were with us. i was tired to death in that carriage, and did nothing but cry. at last, the princess gagarine, who personally disliked the countess schouvaloff, because her daughter, who was married to golofkine, a cousin of the princess, made herself disagreeable to the relatives of her husband, seized a moment when she could get near me to say that she was working hard to make madame vladislava favourable to me, as she feared, as did every one else, that the hypochondria which my condition produced might do me harm, as well as injure my child. soltikoff, she said, dared not come near me, because of the restraint and constant presence of the schouvaloffs, both husband and wife. she did, in fact, succeed in getting madame vladislava to listen to reason, and condescend so far as to mitigate a little the state of perpetual annoyance and restraint which gave rise to this hypochondria which i found it impossible to control. all i wanted was the merest trifle--only a few moments of conversation. at last she succeeded. after this tedious journey of twenty-nine days, we reached st. petersburg and the summer palace. the grand duke at once re-established his concerts. this gave me sometimes the opportunity of a little conversation; but my hypochondria had become such that at every moment, and at every word, my eyes filled with tears, and my mind was disturbed with apprehensions; in a word, i could not get it out of my head that everything tended to the removal of serge soltikoff. we went to peterhoff. i walked a great deal, but in spite of this my melancholy followed me. in the month of august we returned to the city, to occupy again the summer palace. it was a death-blow to me when i learned that, for my accouchement, they were preparing apartments close to, and forming part of those belonging to the empress. alexander schouvaloff took me to see them; i found two rooms, gloomy, and with only one issue, like all those of the summer palace; the hangings were of ugly crimson damask, there was scarcely any furniture, and no kind of convenience. i saw that i should be isolated there, without any sort of company, and thoroughly wretched. i said so to soltikoff and to the princess gagarine, who, though they bore no love to each other, had nevertheless a point of union in their friendship for me. they saw the matter as i did, but it was impossible to remedy it. i was to go on the wednesday to these apartments, which were far removed from those of the grand duke. i went to bed on tuesday evening, and in the night awoke with labour-pains. i called madame vladislava, who went to fetch the midwife. she pronounced that i was in labour. the grand duke, who was sleeping in his own room, was awakened, as also count alexander schouvaloff. the latter sent word to the empress, who was not long in coming. it was about two o'clock in the morning. i was very ill. at last, towards noon the next day, the th september, i gave birth to a son. as soon as it was dressed the empress called in her confessor, who gave the child the name of paul, after which the empress immediately bade the midwife take the child up and follow her. i remained on the bed on which i had been confined. now this bed was placed opposite a door through which i could see the light; behind me were two large windows which did not close properly, and on the right and left of this bed were two doors, one of which opened into my dressing-room, and the other into the room in which madame vladislava slept. as soon as the empress left, the grand duke also went away, as likewise did m. and madame schouvaloff, and i saw no one again until three o'clock in the afternoon. i had perspired a great deal, and begged madame vladislava to change my linen, and put me into my own bed, but she told me that she dared not. she sent several times to call the midwife, who, however, did not come. i asked for something to drink, but still received the same answer. at last, after three hours, the countess schouvaloff arrived, very elaborately dressed. when she saw me lying just where she had left me, she was very angry, and said it was enough to kill me. this was very consolatory, certainly. i had been in tears from the time of my delivery, pained by the neglect in which i was left, after a severe labour; uncomfortably accommodated, lying between doors and windows, which did not shut close, no one daring to lift me into my bed, which was not two paces off, and to which i had not the strength to crawl. madame schouvaloff departed immediately, and went, i think, to fetch the midwife; for the latter came in about half an hour afterwards, and told us that the empress was so taken up with the child that she would not let her go away for a moment. as for me no one gave me a thought. this forgetfulness or neglect was not at all flattering. i was dying of thirst. at last they placed me on my bed, and i did not see a living soul for the rest of the day, nor did any one send even to ask after me. the grand duke, for his part, did nothing but drink with all he could find, and the empress was taken up with the child. in the city and throughout the empire the joy at this event was great. the next day i began to feel an excruciating rheumatic pain, from the hip down the thigh and left leg. this pain prevented me from sleeping, and this brought on a violent fever. in spite of all this, the attentions i received next day were just of the same character. i saw no one, and no one inquired after me. the grand duke, indeed, did come into my room for a moment, and then went away, saying, that he had not time to stop. i did nothing but weep and moan in my bed. nobody was in my room but madame vladislava; in her heart she was sorry for me, but she had not the power to remedy this state of things. besides, i never liked to be pitied nor to complain. i had too proud a spirit for that, and the very idea of being unhappy, was insupportable to me. hitherto i had done whatever i could not to appear so. i might have seen count alexander schouvaloff and his wife, but they were such insipid and tiresome people that i was always delighted when they were not present. on the third day a messenger came from the empress to madame vladislava to ask if a blue satin mantelet which her imperial majesty had worn on the day of my accouchement, had been left in my room. madame vladislava searched for it everywhere in my rooms, and it was at last found in a corner of my dressing-room, where it had not been noticed, as, since my confinement, that room had seldom been entered. having found it, she sent it off immediately. this mantelet, as we afterwards learned, gave rise to a somewhat singular occurrence. the empress had no fixed hours either for going to bed or getting up, for dinner, supper nor dressing. on one of those three days she was lying, after dinner on a sofa on which she had placed a mattress and pillows. while there, feeling cold, she asked for this mantelet. it was sought for everywhere, but could not be found, as it had been left in my room. the empress then ordered that it should be looked for under the pillows of her bed, believing that it would be found there. the sister of madame krause, the empress' favourite lady's maid, passed her hand under the bolster of her majesty's bed and drew it back, saying, that there was no mantle there, but there was a packet of hair there, or something like it, she did not know what. the empress immediately rose from her place, and had the mattress and the pillows taken up, and under them was found, to their no small astonishment, a paper in which was some hair twisted round the roots of some herbs. upon this her majesty's maids, and the empress herself, said that assuredly it was some charm or witchcraft, and every one began guessing who it could be that had the hardihood to place the packet under the empress' pillow. suspicion lighted on one of those most in the favour of her imperial majesty. she was known by the name of anna dmitrevna doumacheva. not long since she had become a widow, and had married a second time a valet de chambre in the service of the empress. the schouvaloffs did not like this woman, who was in their way, as well by the esteem in which she was held as by the confidence reposed in her by the empress ever since her youth. she was quite capable of playing them some trick which might diminish their influence. as they were not without their partisans, these began to view the matter in a criminal light; to this view the empress was of herself sufficiently disposed, since she believed in charms and sorcery. consequently, she gave orders to count alexander schouvaloff to have the woman arrested, together with her husband and her two sons, one of whom was an officer of the guards, and the other a page of the chamber to her majesty. her husband, two days after his arrest, asked for a razor to shave with, and cut his throat with it. as for the wife and her two children, they were a long time under arrest, and she confessed that, with a view to prolong the empress' favour, she had made use of charms, and had on holy thursday put some grains of burnt salt into a glass of hungarian wine, which she had presented to the empress. the affair was concluded by banishing the woman and her two sons to moscow. a rumour was afterwards set afloat that a fainting fit, which the empress had a little time before my accouchement, was caused by the drink which this woman had given to her. it is certain, however, that she never gave her more than two or three grains of burnt salt, which most assuredly could never have hurt her. in all this there was nothing reprehensible, but the woman's rashness and superstition. at last the grand duke, growing weary of his evenings passed without my ladies of honour, came and proposed to spend an evening in my room. at this time he was courting the very ugliest of these ladies, elizabeth voronzoff. on the sixth day my son's baptism took place. he had already come near dying of the thrush. it was only by stealth that i could get any account of him; for to have inquired about him would have passed for a doubt of the empress' care, and would have been very ill received. besides, she had taken him into her own room, and whenever he cried she herself would run to him, and, through excess of care, they were literally stifling him. he was kept in a room extremely warm, wrapped up in flannel, and laid in a cradle, lined with black fox furs; over him was a coverlet of quilted satin, lined with wadding, and above this one of rose-coloured velvet, lined with black fox skins. i saw him myself, many times afterwards, lying in this style, the perspiration running from his face and whole body, and hence it was that, when older, the least breath of air that reached him chilled him and made him ill. besides, he had in attendance on him a great number of aged matrons who, by their ill-judged cares, and their want of common sense, did him infinitely more harm than good, both physically and morally. on the day of his baptism, after the ceremony, the empress came into my room, and brought me, on a golden salver, an order on her cabinet for , roubles. she had added to it a small casket, which i did not open until she was gone. this money came very seasonably, for i had not a sous, and was heavily in debt. as for the casket, when i opened it, i was not greatly dazzled; it contained only a very poor necklace, with ear-rings and two wretched rings, such as i should have been ashamed to give to my maids. in the whole case there was not a jewel worth roubles; neither was the taste nor workmanship any better. i said nothing, but locked up the imperial casket. it would seem that the meanness of the present was felt, for count alexander schouvaloff was ordered to inquire how i liked the jewel-case. i replied, that whatever came from the hands of the empress was always of inestimable value in my eyes. with that compliment he went away apparently well pleased. he returned to the charge when he saw that i never wore this beautiful necklace, and especially those miserable ear-rings, telling me to put them on. i said that on the empress' fêtes i was accustomed to wear the most beautiful things i possessed, and that this necklace and ear-rings did not come within that category. four or five days after the money ordered by the empress was brought to me, baron tcherkassoff, her secretary of the cabinet, sent to beg of me, for heaven's sake, to lend it again to the cabinet, because the empress had asked for money, and there was not a sou left. i sent it back to him, and he repaid me in the month of january. the grand duke having heard of the present made me by the empress, got into a terrible passion because nothing had been given to him. he complained vehemently to count alexander schouvaloff. the latter told the empress, who immediately sent the duke an order for a similar sum, and it was to meet this demand that my money was borrowed. the truth is, the schouvaloffs were very timid, and it was by this weakness that they were to be led; but this trait had not then been discovered. after my son's baptism, there were fêtes, balls, illuminations, and fireworks at court. as for me, i was all the while in bed, ill, and suffering dreadfully from _ennui_. at last they chose the seventeenth day after my confinement to announce to me two pieces of agreeable news at once. first of all, that serge soltikoff had been selected to carry the news of the birth of my son to sweden; secondly, that the marriage of the princess gagarine was fixed for the following week; that is to say, in plain language, that i was about to be deprived, almost immediately, of the two persons i most liked of all who were about me. i buried myself more than ever in my bed, where i did nothing but grieve. in order to be able to keep to it, i pretended an increase of the pains in my thigh, which prevented my getting up; but the truth was, i neither could nor would see anybody, i felt so miserable. during my confinement, the grand duke had also a great affliction, for he learned from count alexander schouvaloff, that one of his old huntsmen, named bastien, whom the empress a few years before had ordered to marry mademoiselle schenck, my old lady's-maid, had come to give information of his having heard, from some one or other, that bressan wished to give something or other to the duke to drink. now this bastien was a great scoundrel and drunkard, who from time to time used to drink with his imperial highness, and having quarrelled with bressan, whom he supposed to stand higher in the duke's favour than himself, thought to do him an ill turn. the duke was fond of them both. bastien was sent to the fortress; bressan expected to be sent there also, but escaped with nothing worse than the fright. the huntsman was banished the country, and sent to holstein with his wife, while bressan retained his place because he served as a general spy. serge soltikoff, after some delays, occasioned by the usual dilatoriness of the empress in signing papers, at last took his departure. the princess gagarine, in the meanwhile, was married at the time fixed. when the forty days of my confinement were over, the empress, on occasion of the churching, came a second time into my chamber. i had risen from my bed to receive her, but she saw that i was so weak and exhausted, that she made me sit down during the prayers which were read by her confessor. my child was brought into the room; it was the first time i had seen him since his birth. i thought him very pretty, and the sight of him raised my spirits a little; but the moment the prayers were finished, the empress had him carried away, and then left me. the st of november was fixed by her majesty for my receiving the customary felicitations after the six weeks of my confinement. for this purpose, the room next to mine was magnificently fitted up, and there, seated on a couch of rose-colored velvet, embroidered with silver, everyone came to kiss my hand. the empress came also, and from my apartments she went to the winter palace, and we received orders to follow her two or three days after. we were lodged in the apartments formerly occupied by my mother, and which properly formed a part of yagoujisky house, and half of ragousinsky house; the other half being occupied by the department of foreign affairs. the winter palace was at this time in course of erection near the great square. i passed from the summer to the winter palace, with the firm resolution of not quitting my room as long as i did not feel myself strong enough to conquer my hypochondria. i read at this period the history of germany, and the universal history of voltaire. after these i read, during this winter, as many russian works as i could procure; among others two immense volumes of baronius, translated into russian; next i lit upon the esprit des lois of montesquieu, after which i read the annals of tacitus, which caused a singular revolution in my brain, to which, perhaps, the melancholy cast of my thoughts at this period contributed not a little. i began to take gloomier views of things, and to look for more hidden and interested motives in the occurrences around me. i gathered all my strength in order to be able to go out at christmas, and, in fact, i was present at divine service; but while at church i was seized with a shivering and with pains all over my body, so that upon my return home i undressed and went to bed, my bed being merely a pallet, which i had placed before a blocked-up door, through which it seemed to me that no draughts could come, as in addition to a curtain lined with woollen cloth, there was also before it a large screen; but yet i believe it was the cause of all the colds which afflicted me this winter. the day after christmas, the violence of the fever was so great that i became delirious. when i shut my eyes i saw nothing but the ill-drawn figures of the tiles of the stove, which was at the foot of my pallet, the room being small and narrow. as to my bed-room, i never went into it at all, for it was very cold, as the windows, on two sides, looked out upon the neva, towards the east and north. a second reason which banished me from it, was the proximity of the grand duke's apartments, where all day long, and for a part of the night, there was a noise and racket just like that of a guard-house. besides this, as he and all his associates smoked a great deal, the disagreeable smoke and smell of tobacco was perceptible there. i remained, therefore, all the winter in this poor little narrow chamber, which had two windows and a pier between them, so that, in all, the area may have been seven or eight archines in length, by four in breadth, with three doors. . thus commenced the year . from christmas-day to lent there was nothing but fêtes in the city and the court. it was still, in every case, in honour of the birth of my son that they were given. every one in turn vied with his neighbour--all eager to give the most splendid dinners, balls, masquerades, illuminations, and fireworks. under the plea of illness, i did not assist at any of them. towards the end of lent, serge soltikoff returned from sweden. during his absence, the high chancellor, count bestoujeff, sent me all the news he received of him, as well as the despatches of count panine, at that time envoy of russia to the swedish court. they reached me through madame vladislava, who received them from her step-son, chief clerk to the high chancellor, and i sent them back by the same way. i further learned by the same channel, that it was decided that on his return soltikoff should be sent to hamburg as resident minister of russia, in place of prince alexander galitzine, who was appointed to the army. this new arrangement did not diminish my sadness. on his arrival, serge soltikoff requested me, through leon narichkine, to let him know if there was any possibility of his coming to see me. i spoke to madame vladislava, who consented to our interview. he was to come to her rooms, and thence to mine. i waited for him until three o'clock in the morning, and was in deadly anxiety as to what could have prevented his coming. i learned next day that he had been enticed by count roman voronzoff into a lodge of free masons, and he pretended that he could not get away without giving rise to suspicions. but i questioned and cross-questioned leon narichkine to such a degree, that i saw as clear as the day that he had failed in his engagement from carelessness and want of interest, regardless of all i had so long suffered solely from my attachment to him. leon narichkine himself, although his friend, did not offer much, if any excuse for him. to tell the truth, i was greatly annoyed, and wrote him a letter, in which i complained bitterly of his indifference. he answered it, and came to see me. he had little difficulty in appeasing me, for i was only too well disposed to accept his apologies. he recommended me to go into public: i followed his advice, and made my appearance on the th of february, the birthday of the grand duke, as well as shrove tuesday. i had prepared for the occasion a superb dress of blue velvet, embroidered with gold. as during my solitude, i had thought a great deal, i now determined that, as far as depended on myself, i would make those who had occasioned me so many and such various annoyances, feel that i was not to be offended with impunity, and that it was not by ill-treatment they could hope to gain either my affection or approbation. in consequence, i neglected no opportunity of proving to the schouvaloffs my feelings towards them. i treated them with profound contempt, pointed out to others their stupidity and ill-nature, turned them into ridicule wherever i could, and had always some sarcasm ready to fling at them, which afterwards flew through the city, and gratified malignity at their expense: in a word, i took my revenge upon them in every way i could think of, and, in their presence, never failed to distinguish, by my attentions, those whom they disliked. as there were a great many people who hated them, i was never at a loss for subjects. the counts rasoumowsky, whom i had always liked, were caressed more than ever. i redoubled my politeness and attention to every one except the schouvaloffs. in a word, i drew myself up, and, with head erect, stood forth rather like the chief of a great party than a person humbled and oppressed. the schouvaloffs knew not what to make of me. they took counsel, and had recourse to the tricks and intrigues of courtiers. at this time there appeared in russia, one brockdorf, a gentleman from holstein, who, on a former visit, had been sent back over the frontiers, by the party then in power, brummer and berkholz, because he was known to be an intriguer, and a person of very bad character. this man came on the scene quite opportunely for the schouvaloffs. as he had a key, as chamberlain to the grand duke, in his character of duke of holstein, this gave him the _entrée_ to his imperial highness, who, moreover, was favourably disposed towards every fool who came from that country. brockdorf gained an introduction to count peter schouvaloff, in the following manner: in the inn where he lodged, he formed the acquaintance of a man who never left the inns of st. petersburg unless it were to visit three young and rather pretty german girls, named reifenstein, one of whom enjoyed a pension allowed her by count peter schouvaloff. this man was called braun; he was a kind of agent for all sorts of matters. he introduced brockdorf at the house of these girls, where he formed the acquaintance of count peter schouvaloff. the latter made great protestations of affection for the grand duke, and by degrees complained of me. all this m. brockdorf reported to the grand duke, at the first opportunity, and they stirred him up until he determined, as he expressed it, to bring his wife to her senses. with this view, his imperial highness came into my room one day after dinner, and told me that i was becoming intolerably proud, but that he would bring me to my senses. i asked him in what my pride consisted. he answered that i held myself very erect. i asked whether, in order to please him, i must stoop like the slaves of the grand seignior. he got angry, and said, he knew how to bring me to reason. i inquired how this was to be done. thereupon he placed his back against the wall, and half unsheathing his sword, showed it to me. i asked what he meant by that, for if he meant to fight me, why then i must have one too. he replaced his half-drawn sword in the scabbard, and told me that i had become dreadfully spiteful. "in what respect?" i said. he replied, with a stammer, "why, to the schouvaloffs." to this i answered that it was only tit for tat, and that he had better not meddle with matters which he knew nothing about, and could not understand. upon this he exclaimed, "see what it is not to trust one's true friends; one suffers for it. if you had confided in me, it would have been well for you." "but in what should i have confided in you?" i said. then he began talking in a manner so utterly extravagant, that finding it useless to reason with him, i let him go on without interruption, and seized a favourable moment to advise him to go to bed, for i saw clearly that wine had disturbed his reason and stupefied what little sense he naturally possessed. he followed my advice, and retired. at this time he began to have always about him an odour of wine mingled with that of tobacco, which was really insupportable to all who came close to him. the same evening, while i was playing at cards, count alexander schouvaloff came to me to signify, on behalf of the empress, that she had forbidden the ladies to use in their dress certain articles of ornament specified in the announcement. to show him how far his imperial highness had corrected me, i laughed at him to his face, and told him he might have saved himself the trouble of notifying the order to me, since i never wore any ornaments which were displeasing to her imperial majesty; and that, besides, i did not make my merit consist in beauty nor in ornament, for that when the one had faded, the other was ridiculous, and that there was nothing permanent but character. he listened to this to the end, winking his right eye, as was his custom, and then went off with his grimaces. i called the attention of those who were with me to this peculiarity, which i mimicked, making every one laugh. a few days afterwards the grand duke told me he wished to ask the empress for money for his affairs in holstein, which were getting worse and worse every day, and that brockdorf had advised him to do so. i saw very clearly that they were but holding out a bait to him, to make him hope for this money through the intervention of the schouvaloffs. i asked if there was no means of managing without it. he said he would show me the representations which had been made to him from holstein, on that head. he did so, and after perusing the papers which he laid before me, i said that it seemed to me he might manage without going begging to his aunt, who, besides, might refuse him, as she had given him, not six months ago, , roubles. however he kept to his own opinion, and i to mine. for a long time he was buoyed up with hopes, but in the end he got nothing. after easter we went to oranienbaum. before we set off, the empress allowed me to see my son for the third time since his birth. it was necessary to go through all the apartments of her imperial majesty to get to his chamber, where i found him in a stifling heat, as i have already mentioned. on reaching the country we witnessed a phenomenon. his imperial highness--though his holstein subjects were continually preaching to him of a deficit, while everybody was advising him to diminish his useless retinue, which, after all, he could only see by stealth and piecemeal--suddenly took the daring resolution of bringing over an entire detachment. this again was a contrivance of that wretch brockdorf, who flattered the ruling passion of the prince. to the schouvaloffs he represented that, by conniving at this hobby, they would for ever ensure his favour, make him wholly theirs, and be certain of his approbation in whatever they undertook. from the empress, who detested holstein, and all that came from it, who had seen how similar military crotchets had ruined the grand duke's father, the duke charles frederick, in the opinion of peter i. and of the russian public, it would seem that the matter was so far concealed as to be represented to her as a mere trifle, not worth speaking of; while, besides, the mere presence of count schouvaloff was sufficient to prevent the affair from assuming any consequence. having embarked at kiel, the detachment landed at cronstadt, and then marched to oranienbaum. the grand duke, who in tchoglokoff's time had never worn the holstein uniform, except in his own room, and by stealth, as it were, now wore no other, except on court days, although he was lieutenant-colonel of the preobrajensky regiment, and had besides a regiment of cuirassiers in russia. from me, the grand duke, by brockdorf's advice, kept the transport of these troops a great secret. i own that when i became aware of it, i shuddered at the injurious effect which such a proceeding could not fail to have on the minds of the russian people, as well as in the opinion of the empress, of whose sentiments i was not at all ignorant. m. alexander schouvaloff saw the detachment defile before the balcony at oranienbaum, winking all the while: i was by his side. in his heart he disapproved of what he and his relations had agreed to tolerate. the guard of the château of oranienbaum belonged to the regiment of inguermanie, which alternated with that of astracan. i was informed that, when they saw the holstein troops pass, they muttered, "those cursed germans are all sold to the king of prussia; it is so many traitors they are bringing into russia." generally speaking, the public was shocked at the apparition; the more earnest shrugged their shoulders, the more moderate looked upon it as simply ridiculous; in reality, it was a childish freak, but a very imprudent one. as for me, i was silent, though, when the matter was mentioned to me, i spoke my mind in such a manner as to show that i in no way approved of a proceeding which, under every point of view, could not but be injurious to the grand duke's interests. in fact, how was it possible to arrive at any other conclusion? his mere pleasure could not compensate for the injury which such a proceeding must do him in public opinion. but the duke, enchanted with his troop, took up his quarters in the camp which he had prepared for it, where he was constantly employed in exercising it. at last it required to be fed; but this had not been thought of. the matter, however, was pressing, and there were some debates with the marshal of the court, who was not prepared for such a demand. at last he yielded, and the servants of the court, with the soldiers of the inguermanie regiment, on guard at the château, were employed in conveying provisions for the newly arrived, from the kitchen of the château to the camp. the camp was at some distance from the house; neither the servants nor the soldiers received anything for their trouble; one may easily understand the effect of so sapient an arrangement. the soldiers said, "they make us lackeys to those cursed germans." the servants said, "we have to wait upon a set of clowns." when i saw and heard what was going on, i resolved to keep myself at as great a distance as possible from this mischievous child's-play. the gentlemen of our court, who were married, had their wives with them; this made up a tolerably numerous company; no one, not even the gentlemen, would have anything to do with this holstein camp, which the grand duke never left. thus, surrounded by these courtiers, i was out as much as possible, but always on the side opposite to the camp, which we never, by any chance, came near. it was at this time that i took a fancy to form a garden at oranienbaum, and as i knew that the grand duke would not give me an inch of ground for that purpose, i begged prince galitzine to sell or cede to me about one hundred toises of some waste land which belonged to his family in the immediate vicinity of oranienbaum, and had been long since abandoned. this land was owned by eight or ten members of the family, but as it produced nothing, they willingly gave it up to me. i began then to plan and plant, and as this was my first whim in the constructive line, my plans assumed very grand proportions. my old surgeon gyon, seeing these things, said to me, "what is the good of all this? now, mark my words; i prophesy that you will one day abandon all this." his prediction was verified. but i required some amusement at the time, and this exercise of imagination was one. at first i employed, in planting my garden, the gardener of oranienbaum, whose name was lamberti. he had been in the service of the empress, when she was princess, on her estate at zarskoe-selo, whence he had been removed to oranienbaum. he was fond of predictions, and, among others, his prediction relative to the empress had been fulfilled. he had prophesied that she would ascend the throne. he told me, and repeated it as often as i was willing to listen to him, that i should become the sovereign empress of russia; that i should see sons, grandsons, and great-grandsons; and that i should die at the advanced age of more than fourscore years. he did more: he fixed the year of my accession to the throne six years before the event. he was a very singular man, and one who spoke with an assurance which nothing could disturb. he pretended that the empress was ill-disposed towards him, because he had foretold to her what had come to pass, and that she had removed him from zarskoe-selo to oranienbaum in consequence of being afraid of him. it was at whitsuntide, i think, that we were recalled from oranienbaum to the city; and it was about the same time that the english ambassador, the chevalier williams,[ ] came to russia. he had in his suite count poniatowsky, a pole, the son of the one who had followed the fortunes of charles xii. of sweden. after a short stay at the capital, we returned to oranienbaum, where the empress ordered us to keep the festival of st. peter. she did not come herself, because she did not wish to celebrate the first _fête_ of my son paul, which fell on the same day. she remained at peterhoff, and there placed herself at a window, where she remained, it would seem, the whole day; for all who came to oranienbaum said they had seen her at that window. a very large company assembled. the dance took place in the hall at the entrance of my garden, and we afterwards supped there. the foreign ambassadors and ministers were present. i remember that the english ambassador, the chevalier williams, sat near me at supper, and that we kept up a conversation as agreeable as it was gay. as he was lively and well-informed, it was not difficult to carry on a conversation with him. i afterwards learned that he had been as much pleased as myself at this soirée and had spoken of me in high terms. this, indeed, was what always happened when i chanced to be with those who suited me in mind and character, and, as at that time, i did not excite so much envy, i was generally well spoken of. i was looked upon as a woman of mind; and many of those more intimately acquainted with me, honoured me with their confidence, depended on me, asked my advice, and found themselves the better for following it. the grand duke had long since named me _madame la ressource_, and however angry or sulky he might be, if he found himself at a loss on any point, he would come running to me, in his usual style, to get my advice, and then be off again as fast as he could. i likewise remember, at this same feast of st. peter, at oranienbaum, seeing count poniatowsky dancing, and i spoke to the chevalier williams about his father, and the mischief he had done to peter i. the english ambassador spoke very favourably of the son, and confirmed to me what i was already aware of, namely, that his father and the czartoriskys, his mother's family, then formed the russian party in poland; that the son had been placed under his care, and sent here in order to be brought up in the feelings of his family towards russia; and that they trusted he would succeed in this country. he might then be about twenty-two or twenty-three years old. i replied that, in general, i looked upon russia as the stumbling-block of merit for strangers, and considered that those who succeeded in russia might safely calculate upon success in every other part of europe. this rule i have always considered as infallible, for nowhere are people more quick in detecting the weak points, absurdities, and defects of a stranger than in russia. a stranger may be sure that nothing will be overlooked, for, naturally, no russian really likes a foreigner. about this time, i learned that the conduct of sergius soltikoff had been anything but prudent, whether in sweden or at dresden. besides, he had made love to all the women he met. at first i would not believe these reports; but at last they came from so many quarters, that even his friends could not exculpate him. this year i became more than ever attached to anne narichkine. her brother-in-law, leon, contributed much to this. he always made a third with us, and there was no end to his nonsense. he used sometimes to say to us, "i have a _bijou_, which i mean to give to whichever of you two shall behave the best, and you will be very much obliged to me for it." we let him talk on, without troubling ourselves to inquire what this _bijou_ was. in the autumn, the holstein troops were sent off by sea, and we went to occupy the summer palace. at this time leon narichkine fell ill of a burning fever, during which he sent me letters, which i could easily see were not his own. i replied to him. in these letters he asked me for sweetmeats and such like trifles, and then returned thanks. the letters were very well written, and very lively; he said he employed in them the hand of his secretary. this secretary, i at last learned was count poniatowsky, who never left him, and had become intimate with his family. from the summer palace we removed, about the beginning of winter, to the new winter palace which the empress had just built. it was of wood, and occupied the spot where the mansion of the tchitcherines now stands. it took up the whole quarter as far as the residence of the countess matiouchkine, which then belonged to naoumoff. my windows faced this house, which was occupied by the maids of honour. on entering the apartments destined for us, i was very much struck with their size and loftiness. four large ante-chambers and two chambers, with a cabinet, were prepared for me, and the same number for the grand duke. the rooms, too, were so disposed, that i was not incommoded by the proximity of the grand duke's apartments. this was a great point gained. count alexander schouvaloff noticed my satisfaction, and immediately informed the empress that i was greatly delighted with the number and size of my apartments. this he told me afterwards with a kind of satisfaction, indicated by a smile and the winking of his eye. at this period, and for a long time afterwards, the principal plaything of the grand duke, while in town, consisted of an immense number of little dolls, representing soldiers, formed of wood, lead, pith, and wax. these he arranged on very narrow tables, which took up an entire room, leaving scarcely space enough to pass between them. along these tables he had nailed narrow bands of brass, to which strings were attached, and when he pulled these strings the brass bands made a noise which, according to him, resembled the roll of musketry. he observed the court festivals with great regularity, making these troops produce their rolling fire; besides which he daily relieved guard, that is to say, from every table was picked out the dolls that were assumed to be on guard. he assisted at this parade in full uniform, boots, spurs, gorget, and scarf. such of his domestics as were admitted to this precious exercise were obliged to appear in similar style. towards the winter of this year, i thought myself again pregnant. i was bled. i had a cold, or, rather, i fancied i had one, in both sides of my face; but after some days of suffering, four double teeth made their appearance at the four extremities of my jaws. as our apartments were very spacious, the grand duke had every week a ball and a concert. the only persons who appeared at them were the maids of honour and the gentlemen of our court, together with their wives. these balls were thought interesting by those who assisted at them, who were never many. the narichkines were more companionable than the rest. among them i reckon madame siniavine and madame ismaïloff, leon's sisters, together with the wife of his elder brother, of whom i have already spoken. leon, more absurd than ever, and regarded by every one as a person of no sort of consequence, as was indeed the case, had got into the habit of running continually backwards and forwards between the grand duke's apartments and mine, never stopping long anywhere. in order to gain admittance into my room, he used to mew like a cat at my door, and when i answered him, he would come in. on the th of december, between six and seven o'clock in the evening, he announced himself in this fashion, at my door; i desired him to come in. he began by presenting me with his sister-in-law's compliments, saying that she was not well; and adding, "but you ought to go and see her." i replied, "i would do so with pleasure; but you know i cannot go out without permission, and they will never give me permission to go to her house." "oh! i will take you there," he said. "are you mad," i replied; "how can i go with you? you would be sent to the fortress, and god knows what trouble i should get into." "oh! but no one will know of it; we will take proper precautions." "but how?" "why, in this way: i will come and fetch you in an hour or two's time. the grand duke will take supper" (for a long time past, under the pretext of not wishing for supper, i had been in the habit of staying in my own room); "he will remain at table for a considerable part of the night, leave it very tipsy, and go to bed" (since my confinement he generally slept in his own room); "for greater security you can dress in man's clothes, and we will go together to anna nikitichna narichkine's." i began to feel tempted by the adventure, for i was constantly in my room with my books, and without any company. finally, by dint of debating this mad project, for such it really was, and such it appeared to me at first, i saw in it the possibility of obtaining a moment's relaxation and amusement. he departed, and i called a kalmuck hair-dresser in my service, and desired him to bring me one of my male dresses, and all belonging to it, as i wanted to make it a present to some one. this young man was one of those persons who keep their mouths closed; and it was more difficult to make him speak than it was to make others hold their tongues. he executed his commission promptly, and brought me everything i wanted. i feigned a headache, and went to bed early. as soon as madame vladislava had undressed me and retired, i got up and dressed myself from head to foot as a man, arranging my hair in the best way i could. i was long in the habit of doing this, and was by no means awkward at it. at the time appointed, narichkine made his appearance. he came through the apartments of the grand duke, and mewed at my door. i opened it, and we passed through a small ante-chamber into the hall, and entered his carriage without having been seen by any one, laughing like a pair of fools at our escapade. leon lived in the same house with his brother and sister-in-law. on reaching it, we found there anna nikitichna, who suspected nothing, and also count poniatowsky. leon announced one of his friends, whom he begged might be well received, and the evening passed in the wildest gayety. after a visit of an hour and-a-half's duration, i took leave and returned home without accident, and without having been met by any one. the next day, which was the birthday of the empress, both at court in the morning, and at the ball in the evening, we could not look one another in the face without being ready to burst out laughing at our last night's folly. some days later, leon prepared a return visit, which was to take place in my apartments; and, as before, he brought his company into my room so skilfully, that no suspicion was excited. thus began the year . we took a strange delight in these furtive interviews. not a week passed without one or two, and occasionally even three of them taking place, sometimes at the residence of one party, sometimes at that of another; and if any of us happened to be ill, the visit was always to the invalid. sometimes at the theatre, without speaking, and simply by means of certain signs previously agreed on, even although we might be in different boxes, and some of us, perhaps, in the pit; yet, by a sign, each one knew where to go, and no mistake ever occurred between us, except that on two occasions i had to return home on foot, which, after all, was only a walk. . at this period, preparations were making for a war with prussia. the empress, by her treaty with the house of austria, was bound to furnish a contingent of thirty thousand men. such was the view taken by the high chancellor count bestoujeff; but austria wanted russia to aid her with all her forces. count esterhazy, the austrian ambassador, was intriguing for this object with all his skill, wherever he saw an opening, and often in several different channels at once. the party opposed to bestoujeff consisted of the vice-chancellor count voronzoff and the schouvaloffs. england was at that time in alliance with prussia, and france with austria. the empress began to have frequent indispositions. at first it was not known what was the matter with her. the schouvaloffs were often seen to be very much disturbed, and full of intrigues, and from time to time they paid great attentions to the grand duke. the courtiers whispered that these indispositions of her imperial majesty were much more serious than was reported. some called them hysterical affections, others fainting fits, or convulsions, or nervous complaints. this state of things lasted the whole winter of - . finally, in the spring we learned that marshal apraxine was about to depart in command of the army that was to enter prussia. his lady came to take leave of us, accompanied by her youngest daughter. i mentioned to her my apprehensions relative to the health of the empress, stating that i much regretted the absence of her husband at a time in which i thought that little reliance was to be placed upon the schouvaloffs, whom i looked upon as my personal enemies, and who were very ill-disposed towards me, because i preferred their enemies to them, and especially the counts razoumowsky. she repeated all this to her husband, who was much pleased with my feelings towards him; so also was count bestoujeff, who disliked the schouvaloffs, and was connected with the razoumowskys, his son having married their niece. marshal apraxine might have been a useful mediator between all interested, on account of the _liaison_ of his daughter with count peter schouvaloff: leon pretended that this _liaison_ was carried on with the knowledge of her parents. besides this, i saw clearly that the schouvaloffs made more use than ever of m. brockdorf, for the purpose of estranging the grand duke from me as much as possible. notwithstanding all this, he had still an involuntary confidence in me; this he always retained to a remarkable extent, without being at all conscious of it himself. he had just then quarrelled with the countess voronzoff, and was in love with madame teploff, a niece of the razoumowskys. when he wished to see this lady, he consulted me as to the best mode of adorning his room so as to please her, and made me observe that he had filled it with muskets, grenadier caps, shoulder belts, etc., so that it looked like a portion of an arsenal. i let him do as he pleased, and went away. besides this lady, he also kept a little german singing girl, called leonora, who used to come to him of an evening, and sup with him. it was the princess of courland who had led to his quarrel with the countess voronzoff. indeed, i do not very well know how it was that this princess of courland managed at that time to play a peculiar part at court. in the first place, she was then nearly thirty years of age, little, ugly, and humpbacked, as i have already said. she had contrived to secure the protection of the confessor of the empress, and of several old ladies of her majesty's bed-chamber, so that every thing she did was excused, and she remained among the empress' maids of honour. all these were under the rod of a madame schmidt, the wife of one of the court trumpeters. this madame schmidt was a native of finland, prodigiously large and massive, one who knew how to ensure obedience, but who still retained the coarse and vulgar manners of her former condition. she was of some consequence, however, at court, being under the immediate protection of the empress' old german and swedish lady's-maids, and consequently also under that of the marshal of the court, sievers, who was himself a fin, and married to a daughter of madame krause, whose sister, as i have already mentioned, was one of those lady's-maids, and one in special favour with the empress. madame schmidt ruled within the dwelling of the maids of honour with more vigour than intelligence, but never appeared at court. in public, the princess of courland was at their head, and madame schmidt had tacitly confided to her their conduct at court. in their own house, they all lodged in a row of chambers, which terminated at one end in madame schmidt's room, and at the other in the one occupied by the princess of courland. there were two, three, or four in a room, each having a screen round her bed, and the only exits from these rooms were through each other. at first sight, it would seem that this arrangement made the residence of the maids of honour impenetrable, for it could only be reached by passing through madame schmidt's, or the princess of courland's room. but madame schmidt often suffered from the indigestion occasioned by all the _pâtes gras_ and other dainties sent to her by the relatives of these young ladies, and then the only approach was by the princess of courland's chamber. here scandal reported that it was necessary for those who wished to pass to any of the rooms beyond, to pay toll in some form or other. at all events, it was certain that for many years the princess of courland made up matches and broke them off again--promised and refused the empress' maids of honour just as she thought proper; and i have heard from the lips of many persons, and among others from leon narichkine and count boutourline, the history of this toll, which, they pretended had not in their case been paid in money. the grand duke's amours with madame teploff lasted until we went into the country. here they were interrupted, because his imperial highness was insupportable during the summer. not being able to see him, madame teploff pretended that he must write to her at least once or twice a-week, and to induce him to do so, she began by writing him a letter of four pages. on receiving it, he came into my room much out of temper, holding the letter in his hand, and said to me, in a tone of considerable irritation, "only fancy! she writes me a letter of four whole pages, and expects that i should read it, and, what is more, answer it also. i who have to go to parade (he had again brought his troops from holstein), then dine, then shoot, then attend the rehearsal of an opera, and the ballet which the cadets will dance at it! i will tell her plainly that i have not time, and if she is vexed, i will quarrel with her till winter." i told him that would certainly be the shortest way. these traits are, i think, characteristic, and they will not therefore be out of place. here is the explanation of the appearance of the cadets at oranienbaum. in the spring of , the schouvaloffs thought, that with a view of detaching the grand duke from his holstein troops, it would be a good stroke of policy to persuade the empress to give his imperial highness the command of the corps of land cadets, the only body of cadets then existing. under him was placed a. p. melgounoff, the intimate friend and confidant of ivan ivanovitch schouvaloff. this person was married to one of the german lady's-maids, a favourite of the empress. in this way the schouvaloffs had one of their most intimate friends in the grand duke's chamber, and with the opportunity of speaking to him at every moment. under pretext of the opera-ballets at oranienbaum, they brought there some hundred cadets, together with m. melgounoff and the officers of the corps who were most intimate with him. these were so many spies _à la schouvaloff_. among the masters who came to oranienbaum with the cadets was their riding-master, zimmerman, who was accounted the best horseman at that time in russia. as my supposed pregnancy of the last autumn had all passed off, i thought i would take some lessons in horsemanship from zimmerman. i spoke on the subject to the grand duke, who made no difficulty. for a long time past all the old rules introduced by the tchoglokoffs were forgotten, neglected by, or altogether unknown to alexander schouvaloff, who, besides, was held in slight or no consideration: we laughed at him, at his wife, his daughter, and his son-in-law, almost to their faces. they gave abundant room for it; for never were faces more ignoble or mean looking than theirs. i had applied to madame schouvaloff the epithet of the "pillar of salt." she was thin, and short, and stiff. her avarice showed itself even in her dress. her petticoats were always too narrow, and had a breadth less than was required, and than those of other ladies had. her daughter, the countess golofkine, was similarly dressed. their head-dresses and ruffles were mean, and had a look of stinginess about them, although these people were very wealthy, and in all respects in easy circumstances. but they naturally liked everything that was little and pinched--a true image of their minds. as soon as i came to take lessons in systematic riding, i again became passionately fond of this exercise. i rose every morning at six, dressed myself in male attire, and went off to my garden, where i had a place prepared in the open air, which served me for a riding-school. i made such rapid progress, that zimmerman frequently came running up to me with tears in his eyes, and kissed my foot with a sort of uncontrollable enthusiasm. at other times he would exclaim, "never in my life have i had a pupil who did me such credit, or who made such rapid progress in so short a time." at these lessons, there was no one present but my old surgeon gyon, a lady's-maid and some domestics. as i paid great attention to these lessons, and took them regularly every morning except sundays, zimmerman rewarded my diligence with the silver spurs, which he gave me, according to the rules of the school. by the end of three weeks i had passed through all the gradations of the school, and towards autumn zimmerman had a leaping-horse bought, after which he intended to give me the stirrups. but the day before that fixed for my mounting, we received orders to return to town; the matter was therefore put off till the following spring. during this summer count poniatowsky made a tour in poland, from which he returned with his credentials as minister of the king of poland. before his departure he came to oranienbaum, to take leave of us. he was accompanied by count horn, whom the king of sweden, under the pretext of notifying the death of his mother, my grandmother, had sent to russia, in order to withdraw him from the persecutions of the french party, otherwise called "the hats," against that of russia, or "the caps." this persecution became so fierce in sweden at the diet of , that almost all the chiefs of the russian party had their heads cut off this year. count horn told me himself, that if he had not come to russia, he would certainly have been of the number. count poniatowsky and count horn remained two days at oranienbaum. the first day the grand duke treated them very well, but on the second they were in his way, for his thoughts were running on the wedding of one of his huntsmen, at which he wished to be present for the purpose of drinking. finding that his guests still stayed, he left them there, and i had to do the honours of the house. after dinner, i took the company which had remained with us, and which was not very numerous, to view the interior of the house. on reaching my cabinet, a little italian greyhound that i had there, ran to meet us, and began to bark loudly at count horn, but when he perceived count poniatowsky, he seemed wild with delight. as the cabinet was very small, no one observed this but leon narichkine, his sister-in-law and myself. but it did not escape the notice of count horn, and while i was going through the apartments to return to the saloon, count horn took poniatowsky by the coat and said to him, "my friend, there is nothing so terrible as a little italian greyhound; the first thing i always do with the ladies i am in love with is to give them one of these little dogs, and by this means i can always discover whether there is any one more favoured than myself. the rule is infallible. you see it. the dog growled as if he would have eaten me, because i am a stranger, while he was mad with joy when he saw you again, for most assuredly this is not the first time he has seen you there." count poniatowsky treated all this as an absurdity on his part, but he could not dissuade him. count horn merely replied, "fear nothing; you have to deal with a discreet person." next morning they departed. count horn used to say, that when he went so far as to fall in love, it was always with three women at a time. and we had an example of this under our eye at st. petersburg, where he courted three young ladies at once. count poniatowsky left two days afterwards for poland. during his absence the chevalier williams sent me word, through leon narichkine, that the high chancellor bestoujeff was caballing against the nomination of count poniatowsky, and had, through him, endeavoured to dissuade count bruhl, at that time the minister and favourite of the king of poland, from making it. he added that he took care not to fulfil this commission, although he had not declined it, fearing it might be given to some one else, who would probably discharge it more exactly, and thus prejudice his friend, who wished, above all things, to return to russia. the chevalier suspected that count bestoujeff, who for a long time had the saxo-polish ministers at his disposal, wished to nominate to that post some person particularly in his confidence. however, count poniatowsky obtained the appointment, and returned, towards winter, as envoy of poland, while the saxon embassy remained under the immediate direction of count bestoujeff. some time before we quitted oranienbaum, the prince and princess galitzine arrived there, accompanied by m. betzky. they were going to travel abroad on account of ill-health, especially betzky, who needed some distraction to relieve the deep melancholy into which he had been plunged by the death of the princess of hesse homburg--born princess troubetzkoy, mother of the princess galitzine, who was the issue of the first marriage of the princess of hesse with the hospodar of wallachia, prince kantemir. as the princess galitzine and betzky were old acquaintances, i endeavoured to give them the best reception i could at oranienbaum, and after having shown them about a good deal, the princess galitzine and i got into a cabriolet, which i guided myself, and we took a drive in the neighbourhood of oranienbaum. on our way, the princess, who was a very singular and narrow-minded person, gave me to understand that she thought i entertained some ill-feeling against her. i assured her that such was not the case, and that i did not know of anything which could give occasion to any ill-feeling on my part, as i had never had any disagreement with her. thereupon she told me that she had feared count poniatowsky might have injured her in my good opinion. i thought i should have dropped at these words. i replied that she must certainly be dreaming; that the person she spoke of was not in a position to prejudice her in my opinion; that he had been gone some time; that i only knew him by sight, and as a stranger; and that i could not understand what could have put such an idea into her head. upon my return home, i sent for leon narichkine, and related to him this conversation, which appeared to me as stupid as it was impertinent and indiscreet. he told me that during last winter the princess galitzine had moved heaven and earth to attract count poniatowsky to her house, and that he out of politeness, and not to be wanting in respect, had paid her some attention; that she had made all sort of advances to him, to which it may easily be believed he did not much respond, as she was old, ugly, stupid, and foolish--indeed, almost crazy; and that seeing she could make no impression on him, her suspicions seemed to have been excited by the fact that he was always with him, narichkine, and at his sister-in-law's house. during the brief stay of the countess galitzine at oranienbaum, i had a dreadful quarrel with the grand duke about my maids of honour. i had observed that these ladies, who were always either confidantes or mistresses of the grand duke, had on several occasions been neglectful of their duties, or even failed in the respect and deference which they owed me. i went one afternoon into their apartment, and reproached them with their conduct, reminding them of their duty, of what they owed me, telling them if they went on in the same way i should complain to the empress. some of them were alarmed, others got angry, and some wept; but as soon as i was gone, they immediately hurried to the grand duke, and told him what i had said to them. his imperial highness got furious, and immediately running to my room, exclaimed that there was no living with me; that every day i became more proud and haughty; that i demanded of the maids of honour attentions and deferences which embittered their lives; that i made them cry all day long; that they were ladies of rank, whom i treated like servants; and if i complained of them to the empress, he would complain of me--of my pride, my arrogance, my ill-nature, and god knows what besides. i listened to him, not without agitation, and replied that he might say of me whatever he pleased; that if the affair was carried before his aunt, she would be able to judge whether it would not be well to dismiss from my service women of bad conduct, who, by their tittle-tattle, caused dissension between her nephew and niece; for that if she wished to restore peace between us, and prevent her ears from being perpetually dinned with our quarrels, she could not adopt any other course; and that, consequently, this would certainly be the course she would adopt. at this he lowered his tone, fancying (for he was very suspicious) that i knew more of the intentions of the empress with regard to these women than i allowed to appear, and that in reality they might all be dismissed for this business. he therefore said, "tell me, then; do you know anything on this point? has any one spoken to her of them?" i replied that if matters went so far as to come before the empress, i had no doubt she would dispose of them in a very summary manner. at this he began walking with hasty strides up and down my room in a reverie; gradually cooled down; and then went away, only half-sulky. the same evening, i related this conversation, word for word, to one of these maids of honour, who appeared to me more sensible than the rest, and described the scene which their imprudent tattling had caused. this put them on their guard against carrying matters to an extremity, of which, probably, they would become the victims. during the autumn we returned to town, and shortly afterwards the chevalier williams left for england on leave. he had failed in his object in russia. the very next day after his audience of the empress, he had proposed a treaty of alliance between england and russia. count bestoujeff had orders and full authority to conclude this treaty. in fact, the treaty was signed by him, and the ambassador could scarcely contain his joy at his success, but the following day count bestoujeff communicated to him, by note, the accession of russia to the convention signed at versailles between france and austria. this was a thunderbolt for the english ambassador, who had been played with and deceived in this affair by the high chancellor, or appeared to have been so. but count bestoujeff himself could no longer do as he pleased; his opponents were beginning to get the upper hand of him, and they intrigued, or rather others were intriguing with them, to gain them over to the franco-austrian party, to which they were already much disposed. the schouvaloffs, and especially ivan ivanovitch, had a passion for france and all that belonged to it, and in this they were seconded by the vice-chancellor voronzoff, for whom louis xv. in return for this piece of service, furnished the mansion which he had just built at st. petersburg, with old furniture which his mistress, madame pompadour, had become tired of, and had sold to her lover, the king, at a good price. but apart from all considerations of profit, the vice-chancellor had another motive: he wished to lessen the credit of his rival, count bestoujeff, and secure his place for peter schouvaloff. besides, he meditated a monopoly of the russian trade in tobacco, in order to sell the article in france. . towards the end of the year, count poniatowsky returned to russia as minister of the king of poland. in the early part of the year, the tenor of our life was the same as in the previous winter; the same balls, the same concerts, and the same coteries. soon after our return to the city, where i could observe things more closely, i perceived that m. brockdorf, with his intrigues, was making rapid progress in the good graces of the grand duke. he was seconded in this by a considerable number of holstein officers whom he had encouraged his highness to retain this winter at st. petersburg. the number amounted to at least twenty, who were continually within the grand duke's circle, without counting a couple of holstein soldiers who did duty in his chamber as messengers, valets-de-chambre--factotums, in a word. all these were, in reality, so many spies in the service of messrs. brockdorf and co. i watched for a favourable moment during this winter to speak seriously to the grand duke, and tell him exactly what i thought of those about him, and of the intrigues which i saw going on. one presented itself, which i did not neglect. the grand duke himself came one day into my cabinet, to tell me that it had been represented to him as indispensably necessary that he should send secret orders to holstein for the arrest of a person named elendsheim, who, by his office and the personal consideration he enjoyed, was one of the leading men of the country. he was of _bourgeois_ extraction, but had risen by his learning and capacity to his present post. i asked the duke what complaints were made against him, and what he had done to require his arrest. he replied, "why, you see, they tell me he is suspected of malversation." i inquired who were his accusers. on this, he thought himself very reasonable in saying, "oh, as for accusers, there are none, for every one in the country fears and respects him; and it is on this very account that i ought to have him arrested, for as soon as this is done, there will be, i am assured, accusers enough and to spare." i shuddered at this answer, and replied, "but at this rate there will not be an innocent man in the world; it will only be necessary for some envious person to set afloat any vague rumour he pleases, and then any one whatever may be arrested on the principle that accusations and crimes will come afterwards. it is, to use the words of the song, '_à la façon de barbari, mon ami_,' that they are advising you to act, without regard to your reputation or your sense of justice. who is it that gives you such bad advice? if i may be allowed to ask." my gentleman looked a little foolish at this question, and said, "you are always wanting to know more than other people." i replied, that it was not for the sake of knowing that i spoke, but because i hated injustice, and could not believe that he wished to commit such a wrong out of mere wantonness. upon this he began to pace up and down the room with hasty strides, and then went away more agitated than displeased. a little while afterwards he came back, saying, "come to my room, brockdorf will talk to you about the affair of elendsheim, and you will see and be convinced that i must have him arrested." i replied, "very well, i will follow you, and will hear what he has to say, since you wish it." i did so, and as soon as we entered, the grand duke said to brockdorf, "speak to the grand duchess." brockdorf, a little confused, bowed to the duke, and said, "since your highness commands me, i will speak to her imperial highness the grand duchess." here he paused, and then said, "this is an affair which requires to be managed with much secrecy and prudence." i listened. "all holstein is full of rumours of the malversations and extortions of elendsheim. it is true he has no accusers, for he is feared; but when he is arrested, there will be no difficulty in getting as many as may be wished." i asked for some details of these malversations and extortions, and learnt that as for embezzlement of the revenue, there could not be any, since the grand duke had no money in hand there; but what was looked upon as malversation was, that being at the head of the administration of justice, whenever any cause was to be tried, there was always some pleader or other who complained of injustice, and accused the opposite party of having gained their cause by bribing the judges. but m. brockdorf displayed his eloquence and skill in vain; he did not convince me. i still maintained to him, in presence of the grand duke, that they were pushing on his imperial highness to commit an act of crying injustice, by persuading him to despatch an order for the arrest of a man against whom there existed no formal complaint or accusation. i said to m. brockdorf that after that fashion the grand duke might have him locked up at any hour, and say that the crimes and accusations would come afterwards; and that, as to lawsuits, it was easy to conceive that he who lost his cause would always complain of having been wronged. i added, too, that the grand duke, more than any other person, ought to be on his guard against such things, as experience had already taught him, to his cost, what persecution and party-spirit could do; for it was not more than two or three years, at the utmost, since his imperial highness, at my intercession, had ordered the release of m. de holmer, who had been kept in prison for six or eight years, in order to compel him to give an account of affairs transacted during the grand duke's minority, and under the administration of his guardian, the prince royal of sweden, to whom m. de holmer had been attached, and whom he followed to sweden; whence he did not return until the grand duke had signed and sent him a testimonial of approval, and a formal discharge for all that had been done during his minority. and yet in spite of all this, the grand duke had been induced to have m. de holmer arrested, and a commission of inquiry appointed, to examine into things which occurred under the administration of the prince royal of sweden. this commission, after acting at first with much vigour, and offering a clear stage to all informers, had, nevertheless, been able to discover nothing, and had fallen into lethargy for want of aliment. yet all this time, m. de holmer languished in close confinement, being allowed to see neither wife, nor children, nor friends, nor relatives; until at last the whole country cried out against the injustice and tyranny of this business, which was in truth outrageous, and which would not even then have been so soon brought to an end had i not advised the grand duke to cut this gordian knot by despatching an order for the release of m. de holmer, and the abolition of the commission, which, besides, cost no trifling sum to the already nearly exhausted exchequer of the grand duke's hereditary duchy. but it was to no purpose that i quoted this striking example; the grand duke listened to me, thinking all the while, i fancy, of something else, while m. brockdorf, hardened in wickedness, narrow in mind, and obstinate as a block, allowed me to talk on, having no more reasons to produce. and when i was gone away, he told the grand duke that all i had urged sprung from no other motive than the desire of ruling; that i disapproved of every measure which i had not myself advised; that i knew nothing of business; that women always liked to be meddling in everything, and always spoilt whatever they did meddle with; and that all vigorous measures especially were beyond their capacity; in short, he managed to overrule my advice, and the grand duke, at his persuasion, had an order for the arrest of elendsheim drawn up, signed, and immediately despatched. a person of the name of zeitz, secretary to the grand duke, who was in the interest of pechlin, and was son-in-law of the midwife who attended me, informed me of all this. the party of pechlin, generally, disapproved of this violent and unreasonable measure, with which m. brockdorf alarmed both them and the whole country of holstein. as soon as i learnt that the wiles of m. brockdorf had prevailed over my advice and earnest representations, in a case of such crying injustice, i resolved to make m. brockdorf feel my indignation to the utmost. i told zeitz, and i had pechlin informed, that from that moment i regarded m. brockdorf as a pest, to be shunned and driven away from the grand duke, if it could in any manner be accomplished; as for myself, i would employ every means in my power for that end. and, in fact, i made it a point to manifest, on every occasion, the disgust and the horror with which the conduct of this man had inspired me. there was no sort of ridicule with which he was not covered, and i did not allow any one, whenever an occasion offered, to remain ignorant of what i thought of him. leon narichkine, and other young people, amused themselves in seconding me in this. whenever m. brockdorf passed through the apartments, everyone cried out after him, pelican--such was the nickname we had given him. this bird was the most hideous that we knew of, and as a man, m. brockdorf was quite as hideous, both externally and internally. he was tall, with a long neck, and a broad, flat head, and withal red-haired. he wore a wire wig; his eyes were small, dull and sunk in his head, and almost destitute of eyelashes and eyebrows, while the corners of his month hung down towards his chin, giving him a miserable as well as an evil look. as to his character i may refer to what i have just said; but i will further add that he was so corrupt that he took money from all who were willing to give it him, and in order that his august master might not at some future time be able to blame these extortions, and seeing him always in need of money, he persuaded him to do the same, and in this way he procured him all he could, as well by selling holstein orders and titles to any one who would pay for them, as by inducing him to solicit, and intrigue for, in the different bureaux of the empire, as well as in the senate, all sorts of things, many of them unjust, some even burdensome to the state, such as monopolies and other privileges which could not otherwise be allowed, since they were contrary to the laws of peter i. besides this, m. brockdorf led the duke more than ever into drink and debauchery, having surrounded him with a mob of adventurers, drawn from the barracks and taverns, both of germany and st. petersburg, who had neither faith nor principle, and did nothing but drink, eat, smoke, and talk disgusting nonsense. as i saw that, in spite of all i did and said to lessen the credit of m. brockdorf, he still maintained his position in the good opinion of the grand duke, and was even more in favour than ever, i formed the resolution of telling count schouvaloff what i thought of the man, adding, that i looked upon him as one of the most dangerous persons it was possible to have near a young prince, heir to a great empire, and that i felt myself in conscience bound to speak to him in confidence, in order that he might inform the empress, or take what other measures he might deem proper. he asked whether he might venture to mention my name. i told him he might, and that if the empress asked me about it i would not mince the matter, but tell her what i knew and saw. count alexander schouvaloff winked his eye as he listened to me very seriously, but he was not a person to act without the advice of his brother peter and his cousin ivan. for a long time i heard nothing; at last he gave me to understand that the empress might speak to me on the subject. in the interim, the grand duke bounced into my room one day, closely followed by his secretary zeitz, with a paper in his hand. the duke, addressing me, said, "just look at this devil of a fellow! i drank too much yesterday, and to-day my brain is still in a whirl, and he brings me a whole sheet of paper, which, after all, is only a list of the matters which he wishes me to finish; he follows me even into your room." zeitz said to me, "all that i have got here only requires a yes or a no, and will not take up a quarter of an hour." "well, let us see," i said, "perhaps you will get through them easier than you think." zeitz began to read, and as he read on, i answered, 'yes' or 'no.' this pleased the grand duke, and zeitz said to him, "look, my lord, if you would only consent to do thus twice a week, your affairs would not fall into arrear. these things are but trifles, but they must be attended to, and the grand duchess has finished the matter with six times 'yes,' and as many times 'no.'" thenceforward his imperial highness used to send zeitz to me whenever he had any "yeses" or "noes." after a time, i asked him to give me a written order, stating what things i might settle, and what i must not determine without his express direction, and this he did. none but pechlin, zeitz, and myself were cognizant of this arrangement, with which pechlin and zeitz were delighted. when a signature was necessary, the grand duke signed what i had settled. the affair of elendsheim remained under the care of brockdorf; but when once elendsheim was under arrest, m. brockdorf was in no hurry to push the business, for he had thus gained pretty nearly all he wanted, which was to remove elendsheim from public affairs, and to manifest in holstein his own influence with his master. i seized, one day, a favourable opportunity for saying to the grand duke, that since he found the affairs of holstein so troublesome to regulate, and regarded them as a sample of what he would have one day to settle when the empire of russia fell to his lot, i thought he must look forward to that charge as something more oppressive still; thereupon he repeated what he had often said to me before--that he felt he was not born for russia; that he did not suit the russians nor the russians him; and that he was persuaded he should perish in russia. on this point i said to him what i had also said to him many a time before, that he ought not to allow himself to give way to so fatal an idea, but to do his best to make himself liked by every one in russia, and to ask the empress to allow him an opportunity of making himself acquainted with the affairs of the empire. i induced him even to ask permission to be present at the conferences which served as a council for the empress. in fact, he did speak of this to the schouvaloffs, who induced the empress to admit him to these conferences whenever she was present at them herself. this was pretty nearly the same thing as settling that he should never be admitted, for after going with him once or twice, neither of them again attended. the advice which i gave to the grand duke was, in general, good and salutary; but he who gives counsel can only do so in accordance with his own cast of mind and turn of thought--his own mode of action and manner of viewing things. but the great object of my counsels to the grand duke consisted in the fact that his way of doing things was quite different from mine, and the more we advanced in years the more marked did this difference become. i made it a point, in all things, to keep as close to truth as i possibly could, while he receded from it farther and farther every day, until at last he became a determined liar. as the way in which he became so is rather singular, i will state it, as it may perhaps display the course of the human mind on this point, and so be useful in showing how this vice may be prevented or corrected in those who may evince a tendency towards it. the first falsehood invented by the grand duke was told with a view of giving himself consequence in the eyes of some young married woman or girl, on whose ignorance he could count. he would tell her how, while still living with his father in holstein, his father had put him at the head of a detachment of his guards and had sent him to seize a troop of gipsies who were prowling about kiel and committing, he said, frightful robberies. these he would relate in detail, as also the several stratagems he had made use of to surround them and to engage them in one or many battles, in which he pretended to have performed prodigies of skill and valour, after which he had taken them prisoners and carried them to kiel. at first he took care not to tell all this to any one but those who were ignorant of his history. by degrees he grew bold enough to produce his composition before those on whose discretion he could so far rely as not to fear a contradiction from them; but when he ventured to relate this story to me, i asked him how long before his father's death it had taken place. he replied, without hesitation, "three or four years." "well," i said, "you began very young to show your prowess; for, three or four years before your father's death, you were not more than six or seven years old, having been left, at the age of eleven, under the guardianship of my uncle, the prince royal of sweden. and what equally astonishes me," i observed, "is that your father, of whom you were the only son, and one too whose health, according to what i have been told, was always delicate at that period, should have sent you to fight against brigands, and that too at the early age of six or seven." the grand duke became terribly angry at these remarks, saying that i disbelieved him and wished to represent him as a liar in the eyes of the world. i told him it was not i, but the almanac who threw discredit on his story; and that i left it to himself to judge whether it was possible, in the nature of things, that a child of six or seven, an only son, the heir-apparent of a principality, and the only hope of his father, should be sent to catch gipsies. he held his tongue, and i too; but he sulked with me for a long while. when, however, he had forgotten my remonstrances, he still continued to relate, even in my presence, this story, of which he gave endless variations. he afterwards made up another far more disgraceful, as well as more injurious to himself, which i will relate in its proper place. it would be impossible for me at present to tell all the dreams which he occasionally imagined and gave out as facts, but in which there was not a shadow of truth. the illustration i have given, will, i think, be sufficient for the present. one thursday, towards the end of the carnival, there being a ball in our apartments, i was sitting between the sister-in-law of leon narichkine and his sister, madame siniavine, and we were looking at marine ossipovna sakrefskaïa, maid of honour to the empress and niece of the count rasoumowsky, who was dancing a minuet. she was at this time slight and active, and it was said that count horn was very much in love with her. but as he was always in love with three women at a time, he also paid his addresses to the countess marie romanovna voronzoff and to anne alexievna hitroff, who were likewise maids of honour to her imperial majesty. we thought that the first-mentioned danced well, and that she was rather pretty. she was dancing with leon narichkine. while talking on this subject, his sister-in-law and sister told me that his mother talked of marrying him to mademoiselle hitroff, a niece of the schouvaloffs, on the side of her mother, who was the sister of peter and alexander schouvaloff, and married to the father of mademoiselle hitroff. this gentleman was often at the narichkines, and had so managed that leon's mother had conceived the idea of this marriage. neither madame siniavine nor his sister-in-law were at all anxious for a connection with the schouvaloffs, whom, as i have already said, they did not at all like, and as for leon, he was not even aware that his mother was thinking of marrying him, while he was actually in love with the countess marie voronzoff just spoken of. on hearing this, i told mesdames siniavine and narichkine that we must not permit this marriage with mademoiselle hitroff, who was a person very much disliked, was intriguing, disagreeable, and boisterous, and that, to cut short all such ideas, we ought to give leon a wife of our own sort. for this purpose i suggested the above-named niece of the count rasoumowsky, a lady of whom, besides, they were both very fond, and who was always at their house. my two friends greatly approved of my advice, and next day, as there was a masquerade at court, i addressed myself to marshal rasoumowsky, who was at that time hetman of the ukraine, and told him in plain terms that he was doing very wrong to allow his niece to lose such a desirable husband as leon narichkine; that his mother wished him to marry mademoiselle hitroff, but that madame siniavine, his sister-in-law, and myself, were agreed that his niece would be a more suitable person; and that therefore he ought, without loss of time, to make the proposal to the parties interested. the marshal relished our project, spoke of it to his then factotum, teploff, who at once went and spoke of it to the elder count rasoumowsky, who also gave his consent. the very next morning teploff went to the bishop of st. petersburg, and purchased for fifty roubles the necessary dispensation. this being obtained, the marshal and his wife went to their aunt, the mother of leon, and managed so well that they gained her consent even against her own wishes. they were but just in time, for that very day she was to give her decision to m. hitroff. this being done, marshal rasoumowsky, mesdames siniavine and narichkine, broke the matter to leon, and persuaded him to marry one of whom he had not even had a thought, while he was actually in love with another. she, however, was as good as promised to count boutourline. as for madame hitroff, he did not care for her at all. this consent being gained, the marshal sent for his niece, and she felt that the match was too good to be refused. the next day, which was sunday, the two counts rasoumowsky asked the empress' consent to the match, which she gave at once. the schouvaloffs were astonished at the manner in which m. hitroff and themselves also had been outwitted, for it was not until the consent of the empress had been obtained that they even heard of the matter. however, the affair being settled, there was no help for it, and thus leon, in love with one woman, and his mother wishing him to marry another, married a third, of whom neither he nor any one else had thought three days before. this marriage of leon narichkine united me still more closely than ever in friendship with the counts rasoumowsky, who were really grateful to me for having procured so excellent and so high a match for their niece, nor were they at all sorry at having got the better of the schouvaloffs, who could not even complain, but were obliged to conceal their mortification. it was, moreover, an additional distinction which i had thus procured for them. the amours of the grand duke with madame teploff were now in rather a languishing condition. one of the greatest obstacles in their way was the difficulty of seeing one another, and this vexed his imperial highness, who was no fonder of difficulties than he was of answering letters. at the end of the carnival, his amours began to be a matter of party. the princess of courland informed me one day that count roman voronzoff, the father of the two young ladies who were at the court, and who by the way was the horror of the grand duke, as were also his five children, was in the habit of speaking of the grand duke with very little respect or reserve. among other things, he said that if he thought proper he could easily convert the duke's antipathy into favour, it being only necessary to give a dinner to brockdorf, let him have plenty of english beer to drink, and when going away, put six bottles of it into his pocket for his imperial highness, and then he and his youngest daughter would at once take the highest places in the grand duke's favour. at the ball the same evening, i observed a good deal of whispering between his imperial highness and the countess marie voronzoff, the eldest daughter of count roman, for this family had really become very intimate with the schouvaloffs, with whom brockdorf was always welcome. it would have given me anything but pleasure to have seen mademoiselle elizabeth voronzoff come again into favour, and therefore, to put an additional obstacle in the way, i told the grand duke what the father had said, and what i have just related. he became almost furious, and demanded in great anger from whom i had heard this. for a long while i was unwilling to tell him, but he said that as i could not name any one, he should believe that i had myself made up this story in order to damage the character of both the father and daughters. it was in vain that i told him i had never in my life made up any such tale; i was obliged at last to name the princess of courland. he told me that he should instantly write her a note to london whether i had spoken the truth, and that should there be the least variation between our accounts, he would complain to the empress of my intrigues and lies; and with these remarks he left the room. fearing that the answer of the princess might be in some degree equivocal, i wrote her a note saying, "in heaven's name, tell the truth purely and simply on the matter which you are going to be asked about." my note was instantly despatched, and reached her in time, for it got before the grand duke's. the princess of courland gave a truthful answer to his imperial highness, and he found that i had not told him a falsehood. this withheld him for some time from his "liaisons" with these two daughters of a man who had but little esteem for him, and whom besides he himself disliked. but in order to put an additional obstacle in the way, leon narichkine persuaded count rasoumowsky to invite the duke to his house one or two evenings each week, quite in private. it was almost a _partie quarrée_, for no one was present at it but the marshal, marie paolovna narichkine, the grand duke, madame teploff, and leon narichkine. this went on for a good part of lent, and gave rise to another idea. the marshal's house was at this time of wood. he received company in his wife's apartments, and as they were both fond of play, there was always play there. the marshal used to go backwards and forwards, and in his private apartments he had his own coterie, when the grand duke was not there. but as the marshal had often been at my rooms in my little furtive parties, he wished our caterer to come in turn to his home. with this view, what he called his hermitage, which consisted of two or three rooms on the ground-floor, was destined for us. every one was carefully concealed, because, as i have already said, we dared not go out without permission. by this arrangement there were three or four parties in the house; the marshal went from one to the other, and mine was the only one that knew all that was going on in the house, whereas none knew that we were there. towards the spring m. pechlin, minister of the grand duke for holstein, died. the grand chancellor, count bestoujeff, foreseeing his death, had advised me to ask the grand duke to give the place to a certain m. stambke. at the commencement of spring we went to oranienbaum. here our mode of life was the same as in previous years, with this exception, that the number of holstein troops, and of adventurers who were appointed as officers over them, was augmented year by year; and as it was impossible to find quarters for them in the little village of oranienbaum, where at the first there were no more than twenty-eight cottages, tents were pitched for these troops, whose number never exceeded men. the officers dined and supped at court; but as the number of ladies belonging to the court, together with the wives of the gentlemen, did not exceed fifteen or sixteen, and as his imperial highness was passionately fond of grand entertainments, which he frequently gave, both in his camp, and in every nook and corner of oranienbaum, he admitted to these entertainments, not only the female singers and ballet-girls of his opera, but also a great many women of the middle class, of very bad character, who were brought to him from st. petersburg. as soon as i was aware that these singing women, etc., were to be admitted, i abstained from attending, under pretext at first that i was taking the waters, and the greater part of the time i took my meals in my own rooms with two or three persons. i afterwards told the grand duke that i was afraid the empress would be displeased if i appeared in so mixed a company; and, in fact, i never went when i knew that the hospitality was general, and therefore, whenever the grand duke wished me to come, none were admitted but the ladies of the court. at the masquerades which the grand duke gave at oranienbaum, i never appeared otherwise than very simply dressed, without jewels or ornaments. this, too, had a good effect with the empress, who neither liked nor approved of these _fêtes_ at oranienbaum, which really became orgies; and yet she tolerated them, or at least did not forbid them. i was informed that her imperial highness said, "these _fêtes_ give no more pleasure to the grand duchess than they do to me; she goes to them dressed in the simplest manner possible, and never sups with the crowd admitted to them." i occupied myself at this time at oranienbaum in building and planting what is there called my garden, and the rest of the time i took exercise either in walking, riding, or driving, and in my own room i read. in the month of july we heard that memel had surrendered on terms to the russian troops on the th of june, and in august the news arrived of the battle of gross-jægersdorf, won by the russian army on the th of that month. on the day of the _te deum_, i gave a grand entertainment in my garden to the grand duke, and to all the most distinguished people at oranienbaum, at which the grand duke and all the company appeared very gay, and very much pleased. this diminished for the moment the pain which the grand duke felt at the war which had just broken out between russia and the king of prussia, for which ever since his boyhood he had felt a singular inclination. this at the first was natural enough, but in the end it degenerated into madness. at this time the public joy at the success of the arms of russia obliged him to dissemble his real sentiments, which were that he saw with regret the defeat of the prussian troops, which he regarded as invincible. on that day i had an ox roasted for the masons and laborers at oranienbaum. a few days after this entertainment we returned to the capital, where we occupied the summer palace. here count alexander schouvaloff came one evening to tell me that the empress was in his wife's room, and that she had sent word to me to come there and speak to her, as i had desired last winter. i went without delay to the apartment of the count and countess schouvaloff, which was at the end of my own apartments, and found the empress there quite alone. after kissing her hand and receiving her embrace in return, she did me the honour to say, that having been informed that i wanted to speak to her, she had come to-day to know what it was i wanted. it was now eight months and more since my conversation with alexander schouvaloff on the subject of brockdorf. i replied to her imperial majesty that last winter, seeing the way in which m. brockdorf acted, i had thought it necessary to speak of it to count alexander schouvaloff, in order that he might apprise her imperial majesty of it; that he had asked if he might name me as his authority, and that i had told him that, if her imperial majesty wished it, i would repeat to her all that i knew. thereupon i related the story of elendsheim as it had taken place. she seemed to listen to me very coldly, then she asked me for details of the private life of the grand duke and of his associates. i told her with the greatest truth all that i knew of them, and when, with regard to the affairs of holstein, i entered into some details which showed her that i was well acquainted with them, she said to me, "you seem to be well informed in regard to that country." i said very simply that that was not a difficulty, as the grand duke had ordered me to make myself acquainted with them. i saw from her countenance that this confidence made a disagreeable impression on her mind, and generally she appeared to me unusually close during this conversation, in which she questioned me, and made me talk, scarcely saying a word herself, so that this interview appeared to me rather a kind of inquisition on her part, than a confidential conversation. at last she dismissed me quite as coldly as she received me, and i was very little pleased with my audience, which alexander schouvaloff recommended me to keep quite secret, which i promised him to do, and indeed there was nothing in it to boast of. on my return i attributed the coldness of the empress to the antipathy with which, as i had long been informed, the schouvaloffs had inspired her against me. it will be seen as we proceed what a detestable use, if i may venture to say so, they persuaded her to make of the private conversation. some time after this we learned that marshal apraxine, far from profiting by his success after the capture of memel and the victory of gross-jægersdorf, to push onwards, was retiring with such precipitation, that his retreat resembled a flight, for he threw away or burned his carriages and spiked his guns. no one understood these operations: his friends, even, could not justify him, and on that account it was suspected that there must be some foul play. although i do not myself know to what exactly to attribute the precipitate and inconsistent retreat of marshal apraxine, never having seen him since, yet i think the cause of it may have been that he received from his daughter, the princess kourakine, always connected by policy, though not by inclination, with peter schouvaloff, from his son-in-law, prince kourakine, and from his friends and relatives, very precise news of the health of the empress, which was constantly getting worse and worse. at this time it began generally to be conceived that she had very violent convulsions every month, regularly; that these convulsions visibly enfeebled her faculties; that after every convulsion she was for three or four days in a state of weakness and exhaustion which resembled lethargy; and that during this period she could not be spoken to on any subject whatsoever. marshal apraxine, perhaps thinking the danger more urgent than it really was, did not judge it advisable to advance farther into prussia, but thought it best to make a retrograde movement, in order to draw nearer to the frontiers of russia, under pretext of want of provisions, foreseeing that, in the event of the empress' death, the war would be brought at once to a close. it was difficult to justify the proceedings of marshal apraxine. but such may have been his views, and the more so as he believed his presence necessary in russia, as i have already mentioned, when speaking of his departure. count bestoujeff informed me, through stambke, of the turn which the conduct of marshal apraxine had taken, and how the imperial ambassador, and that of france, loudly complained of it. he begged me to write to the marshal, as being his friend, and join my persuasions to his, to induce him to retrace his steps and put an end to a flight to which his enemies gave an odious and injurious interpretation. i did write to him, and informed him of the reports current at st. petersburg, and of the difficulty which his friends found in justifying the precipitancy of his retreat, and begged him to retrace his steps and fulfil the orders he had received from the government. this letter was sent to him through bestoujeff, but i received no reply to it. meanwhile general fermor, director-general of works to her imperial majesty, came to take leave of us on his departure from st. petersburg. we learned that he was appointed to the army. he had formerly been quarter-master-general to count munich. the first thing which he asked for was to have with him his _employés_ or superintendents, at the board of works, the brigadiers reaznoff and mordvinoff; and with them he set off for the army. these were soldiers who had scarcely ever done anything but make contracts for building. on his arrival he was ordered to take the command, in place of marshal apraxine, who was recalled, and who, on his return, found at trihorsky an order to await there the commands of the empress. these were long in reaching him, because his friends, his daughter, and peter schouvaloff moved heaven and earth to calm the anger of the empress, fomented as it was by counts voronzoff, boutourline, john schouvaloff, and others, who were urged on by the ambassadors of the courts of vienna and versailles, who were anxious to have the marshal brought to trial. at last, commissioners were named to examine him. after the first interrogatory, the marshal was seized with a fit of apoplexy, of which he died in about twenty-four hours. in this trial, general lieven would assuredly have also been included. he was the friend and confidant of apraxine. i should have had an additional grief, for lieven was sincerely attached to me. but whatever friendship i may have had for apraxine and lieven, i can swear that i was entirely ignorant of the cause of their conduct, and even of their conduct itself, although a good deal of trouble was taken to circulate a report that it was to please the grand duke and me that they had retreated instead of advancing. lieven occasionally gave very singular proofs of his attachment to me; among others, the following. the ambassador of austria, count esterhazy, gave a masquerade, at which the empress and all the court were present. lieven, seeing me pass the room where he was, said to his neighbour, who was count poniatowsky, "there is a woman for whom a fellow might take some blows of the knout without complaining." i have this anecdote from count poniatowsky himself, since king of poland. as soon as general fermor had assumed the command, he hastened to fulfil his instructions, which were precise. he instantly moved forward, in spite of the rigour of the season, and occupied königsberg, which sent deputies to him on th january, . during this winter i suddenly perceived a great change in the behaviour of leon narichkine. he began to be disrespectful and rude; no longer visited me except unwillingly, and talked in a manner which made it evident that some one was filling his head with prejudices against me, his sister-in-law, his sister, count poniatowsky, and all who held to me. i learned that he was constantly at the house of john schouvaloff, and i easily guessed that they were turning him against me, in order to punish me for having prevented his marriage with mademoiselle hitroff, and that they would certainly go on until they had led him into indiscretions which might be injurious to me. his sister-in-law, his sister, and his brother were equally angry with him on my account, and, literally, he conducted himself like a fool, and took delight in offending us as much as he could, and that, too, while i was furnishing, at my own expense, the house in which he was to live when married. every one accused him of ingratitude, and told him that he had no interest in what he was doing; in a word, that he had nothing whatever to complain of. it was evident that he was a mere tool in the hands of those who had got possession of him. he was more regular in paying court to the grand duke, whom he amused as much as he could, leading him on more and more to courses which he knew i disapproved of. he sometimes pushed his incivility so far as not to reply when i spoke to him. to this very hour i cannot conceive what could have offended him, for i had literally loaded him with favours and friendship, as also all his family, from the first moment i knew them. i fancy he was also induced to cajole the grand duke, by the advice of the schouvaloffs, who told him that the duke's favour would be more advantageous than mine, since i was in ill odour both with him and the empress, neither of whom liked me, and that he would interfere with his own prospects if he did not detach himself from me; that as soon as the empress died, the grand duke would put me into a convent; and other such like statements which the schouvaloffs made to him, and which were reported to me. besides, they showed him in perspective the order of st. anne as the symbol of the grand duke's favour. by these and such like reasonings and promises, they obtained from this weak-minded young man, all the little treacheries they wished; indeed, they made him go not only as far, but even farther than they wished, although now and then, as will hereafter be seen, he had his fits of repentance. he also endeavoured, as much as possible, to alienate the grand duke from me, so that his imperial highness manifested an almost continuous ill-humour towards me, while he again renewed his connection with the countess elizabeth voronzoff. in the beginning of the spring of this year it was rumoured that prince charles of saxony, son of augustus iii, king of poland, intended to visit st. petersburg. the prospect of this visit appeared no pleasure to the grand duke, for many reasons. in the first place, he feared that it would be an additional restraint upon him, as he did not like that the course of life which he had traced out for himself should be in the least disturbed. in the next place the house of saxony stood opposed to the king of prussia, while a third reason may have been that he feared to suffer by comparison; if so, this, at all events, was being very modest, for the poor prince of saxony was a mere nonentity and wholly devoid of education. except hunting and dancing, he knew absolutely nothing, and he told me himself that in the whole course of his life he never had a book in his hand except the prayer-books given to him by his mother, who was a great bigot. the prince, in short, arrived at st. petersburg on the th of april, in this year. he was received with much ceremony, and a great display of magnificence and splendour. his suite was very numerous, and he was accompanied by many poles and saxons, among whom there was a lubomirsky, a pototsky, a rzevusky, who enjoyed the appellation of "_the handsome_," two princes, soulkowsky, a count sapieha, the count branitsky, since grand-general, a count einsiedel, and many others, whose names do not now occur to me. he had a kind of sub-governor or tutor with him, named lachinal, who directed his conduct and his correspondence. the prince took up his residence in the house of the chamberlain, john schouvaloff, which was recently finished, and on which its owner had exhausted his taste, notwithstanding which the house was tasteless and inconveniently though richly furnished. there were numerous paintings, but the greater part were only copies. one of the rooms was ornamented with tchinar wood, but as this wood does not take a polish it had been varnished; this turned it yellow, but of a very disagreeable hue, and, this being pronounced ugly, they sought to remedy it by covering it with very elaborate carvings, which they silvered. externally, this mansion, though imposing in itself, resembled in its decorations, ruffles of alençon lace, so loaded was it with ornament. count john czernickeff was appointed to attend on prince charles, and the prince was provided with everything he required at the expense of the court, and waited on by the servants of the court. the night preceding the day of prince charles's visit to us, i suffered so severely from a violent attack of cholic, with such looseness of the bowels that they were moved more than thirty times. notwithstanding this, and the fever consequent upon it, i dressed the next morning to receive the prince of saxony. he was presented to the empress about two o'clock in the afternoon, and, upon leaving her, was presented to me. the grand duke was to enter a moment after him. three arm-chairs had been placed side by side along the same wall, the centre one was for me, that on my right for the grand duke, and the one on my left for the prince of saxony. the task of keeping up the conversation devolved entirely upon me, for the grand duke had hardly a word to say, and the prince had no conversational powers. in short, after a brief interview of a quarter of an hour's length, prince charles arose to present his immense _suite_ to us. there were with him, i think, more than twenty persons, to whom were added, upon this occasion, the polish and saxon envoys who resided at the russian court, together with their employés. after half an hour's interview the prince took leave, and i undressed and went to bed, where i remained three or four days in a very violent fever, at the end of which i showed some signs of pregnancy. at the end of april we went to oranienbaum. before our departure we learnt that prince charles of saxony intended to join the russian army as a volunteer. before leaving for the army, he went with the empress to petershoff where he was _fêted_. we took no part in these festivities, or in those given in the capital, but remained at our country-house, where he came to take leave of us, and then departed on the th of july. as the grand duke was almost always in very bad humour with me, for which i could find no other reasons than my not receiving either m. brockdorf or the countess voronzoff, who again was becoming the reigning favourite, it occurred to me to give a _fête_ to his imperial highness in my garden at oranienbaum, in order, if possible, to mitigate this ill-feeling. a _fête_ was a thing always welcome to his imperial highness. accordingly, i ordered an italian architect who was at that time in my service, antonio renaldi, to construct, in a retired spot in the wood a large car capable of containing an orchestra of sixty persons, singers and instrumentalists. i had verses composed by the italian poet of the court, and set to music by the chapel-master, araja. in the large avenue of the garden was placed an illuminated decoration with a curtain, opposite to which a table was laid out for supper. on the th of july, at the close of day, his imperial highness, and all who were at oranienbaum and numerous spectators from st. petersburg and cronstadt, assembled in the gardens which they found illuminated. we sat down to table, and, after the first course, the curtain which concealed the grand avenue was raised, and in the distance the ambulatory orchestra was seen approaching, drawn by twenty oxen, decorated with garlands and surrounded by all the dancers, male and female, that i had been able to get together. the avenue was illuminated, and so bright that everything could be plainly distinguished. when the car stopped, it so happened that the moon stood directly over it--a circumstance which produced an admirable effect and took the company quite by surprise; the weather, besides, was most delightful. the guests sprang from table, and advanced nearer to enjoy more fully the beauty of the symphony and of the spectacle. when this was ended the curtain dropped, and we sat down again to table for the second course; after which a flourish of trumpets and cymbals was heard, and then a mountebank cried out, "this way, ladies and gentlemen; walk in here, and you will find lottery tickets for nothing." at each side of the curtained decoration two small curtains were now raised, displaying two small shops brightly illuminated, at one of which tickets were distributed gratis for a lottery of the porcelain it contained; and, in the other, for flowers, fans, combs, purses, ribbons, gloves, sword-knots, and other similar trifles. when the stalls were empty dessert was served, and afterwards came dancing, which was kept up till six the next morning. for once in the way, no intrigue or ill-will occurred to mar the effect of my _fête_, and his imperial highness and every one besides was in ecstasies. nothing was to be heard but laudations of the grand duchess and her _fête_; and, indeed, i had spared no expense. my wine was pronounced delicious; the repast the best possible. all was at my own expense, and cost from , to , roubles; it must be remembered that i had , roubles a-year. but this _fête_ was near costing me still more dearly; for, during the day of the th of july, having gone in a cabriolet with madame narichkine to see the preparations, and wishing to descend from the carriage, just as i placed my foot on the step, a sudden movement of the horse threw me on my knees on the ground. i was then four or five months advanced in pregnancy. i pretended to make light of the accident, and remained the last at the _fête_, doing the honours. however i was very much afraid of a miscarriage, but no ill result occurred, and i escaped with nothing worse than the fright. the grand duke, and all his coterie, all his holstein retainers, and even my most rancorous enemies, for days afterwards, were never tired of singing my praises, and those of my _fête_, there being no one, either friend or foe, who did not carry off some trifle or other, as a souvenir; and as at the _fête_, which was a masquerade, there was a numerous assemblage of all ranks, and as the company in the garden was very mixed, and as among them were a number of women who could not elsewhere have appeared at court, or in my presence, all made a boast and display of my presents, which were, in reality, mere trifles, none of them, i believe, exceeding a hundred roubles in value; but they came from me, and every one was delighted to be able to say, "i received that from her imperial highness the grand duchess; she is goodness itself; she has made presents to every one; she is charming; she gave me a kind smile, and took pleasure in making us all eat, dance, and divert ourselves; she was always ready to find a place for those who had none, and wished every one to see all that was to be seen. she was very lively," etc. in short, on that day i was found to possess qualities which had not before been recognized, and i disarmed my enemies. this was what i wanted; but it did not last long, as will shortly appear. after this _fête_, leon narichkine renewed his visits to me. one day, on entering my boudoir, i found him impertinently stretched on a couch which was there, and singing an absurd song; seeing this, i went out, closing the door after me, and immediately went in search of his sister-in-law, whom i told that we must get a good bundle of nettles, and with them chastise this fellow, who had for some time past behaved so insolently towards us, and teach him to respect us. his sister-in-law readily consented, and we forthwith had brought to us some good strong rods, surrounded with nettles. we took along with us a widow, who was with me, among my women, by name tatiana jourievna, and we all three entered the cabinet, where we found leon narichkine singing his song at the top of his voice. when he saw us he tried to make off, but we whipped him so well with our rods and nettles, that his hands, legs, and face were swollen for two or three days to such a degree that he could not accompany us to peterhoff on the morrow, which was a court day, but was obliged to remain in his room. he took care, besides, not to boast of what had occurred, because we assured him that on the least sign of impoliteness, or ground of complaint from him, we would renew the operation, seeing that there was no other means of managing him. all this was done as mere joke, and without anger, but our hero felt it sufficiently to recollect it, and did not again expose himself to it, at least, not to the same extent as before. in the month of august, while at oranienbaum, we learnt that the battle of zorndorff, one of the most sanguinary of the century, had been fought on the th of that month. the number of killed and wounded, on each side, was calculated at upwards of , . our loss in officers was considerable, and exceeded , . this battle was announced to us as a victory, but it was whispered that the loss was equal on both sides; that for the space of three days neither army ventured to claim the victory; that finally, on the third day, the king of prussia, in his camp, and the count fermor on the field of battle, had each caused the _te deum_ to be sung. the vexation of the empress and the consternation of the city were extreme when they learned all the details of this bloody day, in which so many people lost relatives, friends, or acquaintances. for a long time all was sorrow; a great many generals were slain or wounded or taken prisoners. at last, it was acknowledged, that the conduct of count fermor was anything but soldierly and skilful. he was recalled, and the command of the russian forces in prussia was given to count peter soltikoff. for this purpose he was summoned from the ukraine, where he commanded, and in the interim the command of the army was given to general froloff bagreeff, but with secret instructions to do nothing without the concurrence of the lieutenant-generals count roumianzoff and prince alexander galitzine, his brother-in-law. a charge was brought, to the effect that fermor, being at no great distance from the field of battle, with a force of , men upon the heights, whence he could hear the cannonade, might have rendered the action more decisive, had he attacked the prussian army in the rear while engaged with ours. he neglected to do this, and when his brother-in-law, prince galitzine, came to his camp after the battle, and detailed the butchery that had taken place, he received him very ill, said many disagreeable things to him, and refused to see him afterwards, treating him as a coward, which prince galitzine by no means was, the entire army being more convinced of his intrepidity than of that of roumianzoff, notwithstanding his present glory and victories. at the beginning of september the empress was at zarskoe selo, where, on the th of the month, the day of the nativity of the blessed virgin, she went on foot from the palace to the parish church to hear mass, the distance being only a few steps towards the north from the palace-door to the church. scarcely had the service commenced, when, feeling unwell, she left the church, and descended the little flight of steps which turns towards the palace, and, on arriving at the re-entering angle of the side of the church, she fell down insensible on the grass, in the midst of, or rather surrounded by, a crowd of people who had come to hear mass from all the neighbouring villages. none of her attendants had followed her when she left the church; but being soon apprised of her condition, the ladies of her suite, and her other intimate attendants, ran to her assistance, and found her without consciousness or movement in the midst of the crowd, who gazed upon her without daring to approach. the empress was tall and powerful, and could not fall down suddenly without doing herself a good deal of injury by the mere fall. they covered her with a white handkerchief, and went to fetch the physician and surgeon. the latter arrived first, and instantly bled her, just as she lay on the ground, and in the presence of all the crowd. but this did not bring her to. the physician was a long time in coming, being himself ill, and unable to walk. he was obliged to be carried in an arm-chair. the physician was the late condoijdij, a greek by nation, and the surgeon, fouzadier, a french refugee. at last screens were brought from the palace as well as a couch, on which she was placed, and by dint of care, and the remedies applied, she began to revive a little; but, on opening her eyes, she recognized no one, and asked, in a scarcely intelligible manner, where she was. all this lasted above two hours, at the end of which it was determined to carry her majesty on the couch to the palace. the consternation into which this event threw all who were attached to the court may easily be imagined. the publicity of the affair added to its unpleasantness. hitherto the state of the empress had been kept very secret, but in this case the accident was public. the next morning i was informed of the event at oranienbaum by a note from count poniatowsky. i immediately went and told the grand duke, who knew nothing of it; because, generally speaking, every thing was carefully concealed from us, and more especially all that concerned the empress herself. only that it was customary, whenever we happened not to be in the same place as her majesty, to send every sunday one of the gentlemen of our court to make inquiries after her health. this we did not fail to do on the following sunday, and we learnt that for several days the empress had not recovered the free use of speech, and that even yet she articulated with difficulty. it was asserted that during her swoon she had bitten her tongue. all this gave reason for supposing that this weakness partook more of the nature of convulsions than mere fainting. at the end of september we returned to the capital, and as i began to get large, i no longer appeared in public, believing that the period of my confinement was much nearer than it really proved to be. this was a source of annoyance to the grand duke, because, when i appeared in public, he very often complained of indisposition, in order to be able to remain in his own apartments, and, as the empress also rarely appeared, the burden of the reception days, the _fêtes_, and the balls of the court devolved upon me, and when i could not be there, his imperial highness was teased to be present, in order that some one might represent her majesty. he, therefore, began to be annoyed at my pregnancy, and one day took it in his head to say, in his apartment, before leon narichkine, and several others, "god knows where my wife gets her pregnancies, i don't very well know whether this child is mine, and whether i ought to take the responsibility of it." leon narichkine came running to me with these words, fresh from the duke's lips. i was naturally enough alarmed at such a speech, and said to him, "how stupid you all are. go and ask him to swear that he has not slept with his wife, and tell him if he will take this oath, you will go immediately and give information of it to alexander schouvaloff as grand inquisitor of the empire." leon actually went to his imperial highness, and asked him for this oath, but the answer he got was, "go to the devil, and don't talk to me any more about that." this speech of the grand duke, made so indiscreetly, gave me great pain, and i saw from that moment that three paths almost equally perilous presented themselves for my choice: first, to share the fortunes of the grand duke, be they what they might; secondly, to be exposed every moment to everything he chose to do either for or against me; or, lastly, to take a path entirely independent of all eventualities; to speak more plainly, i had to choose the alternative of perishing with him, or by him, or to save myself, my children, and perhaps the empire also, from the wreck of which all the moral and physical qualities of this prince made me foresee the danger. this last choice appeared to me the safest. i resolved, therefore, to the utmost of my power to continue to give him on all occasions the very best advice i could for his benefit, but never to persist in this, as i had hitherto done, so as to make him angry; to open his eyes to his true interests on every opportunity that presented itself; and, during the rest of the time, to maintain a gloomy silence; and, on the other hand, to take care of my own interests with the public, so that in the time of need they might see in me the saviour of the commonwealth. in the month of october i was informed by the high chancellor, count bestoujeff, that the king of poland had just sent count poniatowsky his letters of recall. count bestoujeff had had a violent dispute upon this subject with count brühl and the cabinet of saxony, and was annoyed that he had not been consulted in the matter as heretofore. he learned at last that the vice-chancellor, count voronzoff, and john schouvaloff had, with the assistance of prasse, the resident minister of saxony, secretly manoeuvred the whole affair. this m. prasse, moreover, often appeared to be well informed of a number of secrets which it puzzled every one to conjecture whence he had obtained them. many years afterwards their source was discovered. he carried on a love intrigue, though very secretly and very discreetly, with the vice-chancellor's wife, the countess anna karlovna, whose maiden name was scavronsky. this lady was the intimate friend of the wife of samarine, the master of the ceremonies, and it was at the house of the latter that the countess saw m. prasse. the chancellor bestoujeff had all the letters of recall brought to him, and sent them back to saxony under pretext of informality. in the night between the th and th of december, i began to feel the pains of childbirth. i sent to inform the grand duke by madame vladislava, and also count schouvaloff, that he might announce the fact to her imperial majesty. in a short time the grand duke came into my room, dressed in his holstein uniform, booted and spurred, with his scarf round his body, and an enormous sword at his side, having made an elaborate toilet. it was about half-past two in the morning. astonished at his appearance, i inquired the reason of this grand dress. he replied that it was only on an emergency that true friends could be discerned; that in this garb he was ready to act as duty demanded; that the duty of a holstein officer was to defend, according to his oath, the ducal palace against all its enemies, and that as i was ill he had hastened to my assistance. one would have supposed him jesting; but not at all, he was quite serious. i saw at once that he was intoxicated, and advised him to go to bed, that the empress when she came might not have the double annoyance of seeing him in such a state, and armed _cap-a-pie_ in the holstein uniform, which i knew she detested. i had great difficulty in getting him to leave; however, madame vladislava and myself finally persuaded him, with the help of the midwife, who assured him that i should not be delivered for some time yet. at length he went away, and the empress arrived. she asked where the grand duke was, and she was informed that he had just quitted the room, and would not fail to return. when she found that the pains abated, and that the midwife told her i might not be confined for some hours yet, she returned to her apartments, and i went to bed and slept till the next morning, when i got up as usual, feeling however occasional pains, after which i continued for hours together entirely free from them. towards supper time i felt hungry, and ordered some supper to be brought. the midwife was sitting near me, and seeing me eat ravenously, she said, "eat, eat: this supper will bring you good luck." in fact, having finished my supper, i rose from the table, and the moment i did so was seized with such a pain, that i gave a loud scream. the midwife and madame vladislava seized me under my arms, and placed me on the "bed of pain," and went to seek the empress and the grand duke. scarcely had they arrived when i was delivered (between ten and eleven o'clock at night), on the th of december, of a daughter, whom i begged the empress to allow me to name after her. but she decided that she should be named after her eldest sister, anne petrovna, duchess of holstein, mother of the grand duke. his imperial highness appeared much pleased at the birth of this child; he made great rejoicings over it in his own apartments, ordered rejoicings to be made in holstein also, and received all the compliments paid to him on the subject with great manifestations of pleasure. on the sixth day the empress stood godmother to the child, and brought me an order on the cabinet for , roubles. a similar present was sent to the grand duke, which added not a little to his satisfaction. after the baptism the _fêtes_ commenced, which were very magnificent, according to report. i saw none of them, but remained in my bed, very delicate and quite alone, not a living soul to keep me company; for no sooner was i delivered than the empress not only carried off the child to her own apartments as previously, but under the plea of my requiring repose, i was left there and abandoned like any poor wretch, no one entering my apartments to ask how i was, or even sending to inquire. as on the former occasion, i had suffered a great deal from this neglect. i had this time taken all possible precautions against draughts, and the other inconveniences of the place; and as soon as i was delivered i arose and went to my bed, and as no one dared to visit me, unless secretly, i had also taken care to provide for this contingency. my bed stood nearly in the middle of a rather long room, the windows being on the right side of the bed. there was also a side door, which opened into a kind of wardrobe, which served also as an ante-chamber, and which was well barricaded with screens and trunks. from the bed to this door i had placed an immense screen which concealed the prettiest little boudoir i could devise, considering the locality and the circumstances. in this boudoir were a couch, mirrors, moveable tables, and some chairs. when the curtains of my bed on that side were drawn, nothing could be seen; but when they were pulled aside, i could see the boudoir, and those who happened to be in it. but any one entering the room could only see the screens. if any one asked what was behind the screen, the answer was, the commode; and this being within the screen, no one was anxious to see it; or even if so, it could be shown without getting into the boudoir, which the screen effectively concealed. . on the st of january, , the court festivities terminated with a grand display of fireworks between the ball and the supper. as i still kept my room, i did not appear at court. before the fireworks were let off, count peter schouvaloff took it into his head to present himself at my door, to show me the plan of them before they were let off. madame vladislava told him i was asleep, but however she would go and see. it was not true that i was asleep; i was merely in bed, and had my usual little party, which then, as formerly, consisted of mesdames narichkine, siniavine, ismaïloff, and count poniatowsky. the latter, since his recall, had given out that he was ill, but came to visit me, and these ladies loved me sufficiently to prefer my company to the balls and _fêtes_. madame vladislava did not exactly know who was with me, but she was a great deal too shrewd not to suspect that there was some one. i had told her early that i should go to bed, as i felt weary; and then she did not afterwards disturb me. upon the arrival of count schouvaloff, she came and knocked at my door. i drew the curtain on the side of the screen, and told her to enter. she came in, and brought me the message of count peter schouvaloff, and i ordered her to admit him. while she went to execute this order, my friends behind the screen were bursting with laughter at the extreme absurdity of the scene--my being about to receive count schouvaloff, who would be able to swear that he had found me alone, and in bed, while there was only a curtain which separated my gay little party from this most important personage, who was at that time the oracle of the court, and possessed the confidence of the empress to a very high degree. in, therefore, he came, and brought me his plan for the fireworks. he was at the time grand master of artillery. i began by making apologies for keeping him waiting--only having, i said, just awoke; i rubbed my eyes, saying that i was still quite sleepy. i told a story, not to make madame vladislava out a story-teller. after this, i entered into a rather long conversation with him, so much so even, that he appeared anxious to leave, in order not to keep the empress waiting for the commencement of the fireworks. i then dismissed him. he took his departure, and i again drew aside the curtain. my company, from laughing so heartily, was beginning to feel hungry and thirsty. "very well," i said, "you shall have something to eat and drink; it is only fair that while you are kind enough to give me your company, you should not die of hunger or thirst." i closed the curtain and rang; madame vladislava presented herself. i told her that i was starving, and desired her to bring me some supper. i said i must have at least six good dishes. when it was ready it was brought to me, and i had it placed by the side of my bed, and told the servant not to wait. then my friends from behind the screen came out like so many famished creatures to eat whatever they could find; the fun of the thing increased their appetite. in fact, this evening was one of the merriest i have ever passed in the whole course of my life. when the supper had been devoured, i had the remains cleared away in the same manner as it had been served. i fancy however the servants were a little surprised at my appetite. about the time the court supper had concluded, my party retired also very well pleased with their evening. count poniatowsky, when going out, always wore a wig of fair hair and a cloak, and to the question of the sentinels, "who goes there?" was accustomed to answer that he was a musician to the grand duke. this wig made us laugh a good deal that day. this time my churching, after the six weeks, took place in the empress' chapel; but no one assisted at it except alexander schouvaloff. towards the end of the carnival, and when all the _fêtes_ of the city were finished, three weddings took place at court: that of count alexander strogonoff with the countess anne voronzoff, daughter of the vice-chancellor, was the first; and, two days after, that of leon narichkine with mademoiselle zakrefsky; and, on the same day, also, that of count boutourline with the countess marie voronzoff. these three young ladies were maids of honour to the empress. at the celebration of these weddings, a bet was made at court between the hetman count rasoumowsky and the minister of denmark, count d'osten, as to which of the three newly-made husbands should be first cuckolded, and it turned out that those who had bet that it would be strogonoff, whose bride appeared the plainest of the three, and at the time the most innocent and childlike, won the wager. the evening preceding the day on which leon narichkine and count boutourline were married, was an unfortunate one. for a long time, it had been whispered that the credit of the grand chancellor was wavering, and that his enemies were getting the upper hand of him. he had lost his friend, general apraxine. count rasoumowsky, the elder, had for a long time supported him; but ever since the influence of the schouvaloffs had preponderated, he scarcely meddled with anything, except, when occasion offered, to ask for some trifling favour for his friends or connections. the hatred of schouvaloff and voronzoff against the chancellor was still further increased by the efforts of the ambassadors of austria and france, count esterhazy, and marshal de l'hôpital. the latter thought count bestoujeff more disposed for an alliance with england than with france, and the ambassador of austria caballed against him, because, while he wished russia should adhere to her treaty of alliance with the court of vienna, and give aid to maria theresa, he did not wish that she should take a leading part in a war against the king of prussia. the views of count bestoujeff were those of a patriot, and he was not easily led; whereas the messrs. voronzoff and john schouvaloff were the tools of the two ambassadors to such an extent that a fortnight before the grand chancellor's disgrace, the marquis de l'hôpital, ambassador of france, went to count voronzoff, despatch in hand, and said to him, "monsieur le comte, here is the despatch of my court, which i have just received, and in which it is said that if, within a fortnight, the grand chancellor is not displaced by you, i am to address myself to him, and treat with no one but him." then the vice-chancellor took fire, and went to john schouvaloff, and they represented to the empress that her glory was suffering from the credit which count bestoujeff enjoyed throughout europe. she ordered that a conference should be held that very evening, and that the grand chancellor should be summoned to it. the latter sent word that he was ill. this illness was represented as a disobedience, and word was sent to him to come without delay. he went, and, on his arrival, he was arrested in full conference. he was deprived of his offices, his titles, and his orders, without any one being able to say for what crimes or delinquencies; the first personage of the empire was thus despoiled. he was sent back to his house a prisoner. as all this was pre-arranged, a company of grenadiers of the guard was called out. these, as they passed along the moïka, where the counts alexander and peter schouvaloff lived, said to one another, "thank god, we are going to arrest those cursed schouvaloffs, who do nothing but invent monopolies." but when the soldiers found that it was count bestoujeff whom they had to arrest, they gave evident signs of displeasure, saying, "it is not this man, it is the others, who trample on the people." though count bestoujeff had been arrested in the very palace of which we occupied a wing, and not very far from our apartments, we heard nothing of it that evening, so careful were they to keep from us all that was going on. the next day (sunday) i received, on waking, a note from leon narichkine, which the count poniatowsky forwarded to me by this channel, which had long since become of very questionable security. it commenced with these words:--"man is never without resources. i employ this means of informing you, that last night, count bestoujeff was arrested and deprived of his offices and dignities, and with him your jeweller bernardi, teleguine, and adadouroff." i was thunderstruck upon reading these lines, and, having read them, i felt that i must by no means flatter myself that this affair did not affect me more nearly than yet appeared. now, to make this understood, a few comments are necessary. bernardi was an italian jeweller, not without talent, and whose business gave him the _entrée_ to every house. i think that there was scarcely one which did not owe him something, or to which he had not rendered some little service or other, as he went continually to and fro everywhere. he was also intrusted sometimes with commissions from one to the other. a note sent through bernardi always reached its destination sooner and more safely than if sent by the servants. now the arrest of bernardi interested the whole city, since he executed commissions for everybody, and for me among the rest. teleguine was the former adjutant of the master of the hounds, count rasoumowsky, who had had the guardianship of beketoff. he had remained attached to the house of rasoumowsky. he had also become the friend of count poniatowsky. he was a man of integrity, and one who could be relied on; and when once his affection was gained it was not easily lost. he had always shown a predilection for me, and zeal in my interest. adadouroff had been formerly my master in the russian language, and had remained much attached to me. it was i who had recommended him to count bestoujeff, who, within the last two or three years only, had begun to place confidence in him. formerly, he did not like him, because he held to the party of the procurator-general, prince nikita youriewitch troubetskoy, the enemy of bestoujeff. after the perusal of the note, and the reflections which i have just made, a crowd of ideas, one more disagreeable than another, presented themselves to my mind. with the iron in my soul, so to speak, i dressed, and went to mass, where it seemed to me that the greater part of those i saw had faces as long as my own. no one made any remark to me during the day; it was just as if every one was in total ignorance of what had happened. i was silent also. the grand duke, who had never liked count bestoujeff, appeared to be rather gay on this occasion, yet behaved without affectation, though he rather kept away from me a good deal. in the evening i was obliged to go to the wedding; i changed my dress, was present at the benediction of the marriages of count boutourline and leon narichkine, at the ball, and at the supper, during which i approached the marshal of the wedding, prince nikita troubetskoy, and, under pretence of examining the ribbons of his marshal's baton, i whispered to him, "what do all these fine doings mean? have you found more crimes than criminals, or more criminals than crimes?" to which he replied--"we have done what we were ordered; but as for crimes, they are still to be discovered. thus far, the search has not been successful." having finished with him, i approached marshal boutourline, who said to me--"bestoujeff is arrested, but we have yet to learn why he is so." thus spoke the two commissioners appointed by the empress to investigate the causes that had led to his arrest by count alexander schouvaloff. i also perceived stambke at the ball, but at a distance, and i saw that his countenance wore an expression of suffering and of despondency. the empress was not present at either of these two marriages, neither in church nor at the feast. the next day, stambke came to my apartments, and told me that he had just received a note from count bestoujeff, which begged that he would inform me that i need be under no apprehension concerning what i knew; that he had had time to burn everything, and that he would communicate to him (stambke), by the same channel, the interrogatories which might be put to him. i asked what that channel was? he told me that it was by a horn-player in the count's service, who had brought him the note, and that it had been arranged, that for the future, any communications it might be desirable to make should be placed in a particular spot, among some bricks, not far from the count's house. i told stambke to take care that this dangerous correspondence was not discovered, though he appeared to be suffering great anxiety himself. however, he and count poniatowsky still continued it. as soon as stambke had left, i called madame vladislava, and told her to go to her brother-in-law, pougowoschnikoff, and give him the note i was writing to him. it contained only these words:--"you have nothing to fear; there has been time to burn all." this tranquillized him; for, it appears, that ever since the arrest of the high chancellor, he had been more dead than alive. this it is which occasioned his anxiety, and what the count bestoujeff had had time to destroy. the weak state of the empress' health, and the convulsive fits to which she was subject, very naturally made all eyes turn to the future. count bestoujeff, both from his position and abilities, was certainly not one of the last to do so. he knew well the antipathy that had long been excited against him in the mind of the grand duke. he was also well aware of the feeble capacity of this prince, born heir to so many crowns. it was only natural that this statesman, like every one else, should wish to maintain himself in his position. for several years past he had seen me laying aside my prejudices against him; perhaps, also, he regarded me personally as the only one upon whom at that time the hopes of the public could rest, in the event of the empress' death. these and such like reflections had induced him to form the plan that, on the decease of the empress, the grand duke should be proclaimed emperor of right, but that at the same time i should be declared a participator with him in the administration; that all existing offices should be continued, and that, for himself, he should receive the lieutenant-colonelcy of the four regiments of guards, and the presidency of the three colleges of the empire, of that of foreign affairs, of war, and of the admiralty. his pretensions were consequently excessive. he had forwarded me, through count poniatowsky, the draught of this project, written by the hand of pougowoschnikoff. i had agreed with the former that i should thank him verbally for his good intentions towards me, but that i regarded the plan as difficult of execution. he had had this project written and re-written several times, had altered, amplified, retrenched, and appeared to be quite absorbed by it. to speak the truth, i looked upon it as the effect of mere dotage, and as a bait which the old man was throwing out in order to obtain a firmer hold on my friendship; but i did not catch at this bait, because i regarded it as prejudicial to the empire, that every quarrel between my husband (who did not love me) and myself should convulse the state; but as the occasion for such a course did not yet exist, i did not wish to oppose an old man who, when once he took a thing into his head, was self-willed and immovable. this, then, was the project which he had found time to destroy, and concerning which he had sent me word, in order that i might tranquillize those who had been privy to it. in the mean time, my valet de chambre, skourine, came to tell me that the captain who guarded count bestoujeff was a man who had always been his friend, and who dined with him every sunday, when he left court and went home. i said that if this were the case, and if he could be relied on, he should endeavour to sound him, and see if he would allow any communication with the prisoner. this had become the more necessary as count bestoujeff had communicated to stambke, by the mode already mentioned, that he wished bernardi to be told from him to speak the simple truth when interrogated, and to let him know what were the questions asked. when i perceived that skourine willingly undertook to discover some means of communicating with count bestoujeff, i told him also to try and open some means of communication with bernardi as well, and see if he could not gain over the sergeant or some soldier who kept guard in his quarter. on the evening of the same day, skourine told me that bernardi was guarded by a sergeant of the guards named kalichkine, with whom he was to have an interview on the morrow; but that having sent to his friend the captain, who was with the count bestoujeff, to ask if he could see him, the latter had informed him that if he wished to see him he must come to his house; but that one of his subalterns, whom he also knew, and who was his relation, had cautioned him not to go there, because if he did, the captain would arrest him, and would make a merit of so doing at his expense, and that of this he had boasted to a confidant. skourine therefore kept away from his pretended friend. however kalichkine, whom i had ordered to be gained over in my name, told bernardi all that was necessary; besides, he was only asked to speak the simple truth, and to this both willingly lent themselves. at the end of a few days, very early one morning, stambke came into my room, very pale and greatly frightened, and told me that his correspondence and that of count bestoujeff with count poniatowsky had been discovered; that the little horn-player had been arrested, and that there was every reason to fear that their last letters had fallen into the hands of count bestoujeff's keepers; that he himself expected every moment to be dismissed, if not arrested; and that he had come to tell me this, and to take his leave of me. this information caused me no little anxiety. however, i consoled him as well as i could, and sent him away, not doubting but that his visit would tend to augment against me, if that were possible, all kinds of ill-feeling, and that i should, perhaps, be shunned as a person suspected by the government. i was, however, well satisfied in my own mind that i had nothing to reproach myself with against the government. with the exception of michel voronzoff, john schouvaloff, the two ambassadors of austria and france, and those whom these parties made to believe whatever they wished, the general public, every one in st. petersburg, great and small, was persuaded that count bestoujeff was innocent, and that there was neither crime nor delinquency to be laid to his charge. it was known that the day following the evening of his arrest, a manifesto had been concocted in the chamber of ivan schouvaloff, which the sieur volkoff, formerly first commissary of count bestoujeff, and who, in the year , had absconded from his house, and after wandering some time in the woods, had allowed himself to be taken, and who was at this moment first secretary to the conference, had to draw up, and which they intended to publish, in order to make known the reasons which had constrained the empress to act towards the grand chancellor in the way she had done. now, in this secret conference, in which they had to torment their brains to discover offences, they agreed to state that it was for the crime of high treason, and because bestoujeff had endeavoured to sow dissension between her imperial majesty and their imperial highnesses; and it was their wish, the very day after his arrest, to banish him to one of his estates, and deprive him of the rest of his property, without trial or judgment. but there were some who thought that it was going too far to exile a man without crime or trial, and that it was, at least, necessary to look about and see if some crime could not be laid to his charge; and if not, that, in any case, it was indispensable to make the prisoner--who, for some unknown reason, had been shorn of his offices, dignities, and decorations--pass under the judgment of commissioners. now, these commissioners, as i have already stated, were marshal boutourline, the procurator-general prince troubetskoy, the general count alexander schouvaloff, and the sieur volkoff as secretary. the first thing these commissioners did was to give directions, through the department of foreign affairs, to the ambassadors, envoys, and _employés_ of russia at foreign courts, to send copies of the despatches which count bestoujeff had written to them since he had been at the head of affairs. the object of this was to discover in these despatches some crime or other. it was alleged against him that he wrote just what he pleased, and made statements opposed to the orders and wishes of the empress; but as her majesty neither wrote nor signed anything, it was difficult to act against her orders; and, as to verbal orders, she could hardly have given any to the high chancellor, who for whole years had no occasion to see her; and, as for verbal orders delivered through a third party, they might as easily be misapprehended, as they might be imperfectly delivered, as well as imperfectly received and understood. but nothing came of all this except the order i have mentioned, because none of the _employés_ gave himself the trouble of examining papers ranging over twenty years, and then copying them for the purpose of discovering crimes committed by one whose instructions and orders he himself had followed out, and with whom, therefore, however well meant his efforts, he might become implicated in any faults which might be traced in them. besides, the mere transmission of these papers would put the crown to a considerable expense; and when, after all, they reached st. petersburg, there would be enough in them to try the patience of many persons for many years in their attempts to discover and unravel something which, after all, they might contain. the order therefore was never executed; nay, even those who sent it at last grew tired of the business itself, and at the end of a year it was concluded by the publication of the manifesto, which they had begun to compose the day after the chancellor's arrest. on the afternoon of the day on which stambke had come to take leave of me, the empress sent an order to the grand duke to dismiss him, and send him back to holstein, for that his correspondence with bestoujeff had been discovered, and that he deserved to be arrested, but that out of consideration for his imperial highness, whose minister he was, he should be left at liberty, provided he was immediately sent away. stambke was immediately sent off, and with his departure ended my interference in the affairs of holstein. the grand duke was given to understand that the empress was not pleased at my having to meddle with them, and his imperial highness was himself inclined that way. i do not well remember who it was that succeeded stambke, but i rather think it was a person named wolff. in the next place, the empress' ministry formally demanded of the king of poland, the recall of count poniatowsky, as a letter of his, addressed to count bestoujeff, had been discovered. it was innocent enough, in fact, but nevertheless was addressed to a so-called prisoner of state. as soon as i heard of the dismissal of stambke, and the recall of count poniatowsky, i prepared myself to expect nothing good, and this is what i did. i summoned my valet de chambre, skourine, and ordered him to collect and bring to me all my account books, and everything among my effects which could in any way be regarded as a paper. he executed my orders with zeal and exactitude, and when all were brought into my room i dismissed him. as soon as he left the room, i threw all the books into the fire, and when i saw them half-consumed, i recalled skourine, and said to him, "look here, and be witness that all my papers and accounts are burnt, in order that if you are ever asked where they are, you may be able to swear that you saw me burn them." he thanked me for the care i took of him, and told me that a singular alteration had been made in the guard over the prisoners. since the discovery of stambke's correspondence with count bestoujeff, a stricter watch had been kept upon him, and with this object they had taken from bernardi the sergeant kalichkine, and had placed him in the chamber and near the person of the late high chancellor. when kalichkine saw this, he asked to have some of the trusty soldiers who were under him when he was on guard at bernardi's. here, then, was the most reliable and intelligent man we had introduced into the very apartment of count bestoujeff, without having lost all means of communication with bernardi. in the meantime the interrogatories of the count were going on. kalichkine made himself known to him as a man devoted to me, and, in fact, he rendered him a thousand good offices. like myself, he was convinced that the chancellor was innocent, and the victim of a powerful cabal--and such, also, was the persuasion of the public. as for the grand duke, i saw that they had frightened him, and had led him to suspect that i was aware of the correspondence of stambke with the state-prisoner. i perceived that his royal highness was almost afraid to speak to me, and avoided entering my apartment, where i remained for the time, quite alone, seeing no one. i would not, in fact, allow any one to come to me, fearing to expose them to some misfortune or inconvenience, and when at court, in order to be avoided, i refrained from approaching any one i thought likely to be compromised by my notice. on the last days of the carnival there was to be a russian play at the court theatre, and count poniatowsky begged me to be present, because rumours had been spread that it was intended to send me back to my own country, to prevent my appearance in public, and i know not what besides, and that every time i did not appear at court or at the theatre, every one was anxious to know the reason of my absence, as much perhaps from curiosity as from interest in me. i knew that the russian drama was one of the things his imperial highness least liked, and even to talk of going there was enough to displease him seriously. on this occasion, too, in addition to his dislike of the national drama, he had another and more personal objection, namely, that it would deprive him of the company of the countess elizabeth voronzoff; as she was in the ante-chamber along with the other maids of honour, it was there that his imperial highness enjoyed her conversation or her company at play. if i went to the theatre these ladies were obliged to follow me--a circumstance which annoyed his imperial highness, who had then no other resource than to retire to his own apartments to drink. notwithstanding all this, as i had promised to go to the play, i sent a message to count alexander schouvaloff, desiring him to order a carriage for me, as i intended that day to go to the play. the count came and told me that my intention of going to the theatre was anything but agreeable to the grand duke. i replied that as i formed no part of the society of his royal highness, i thought it would be the same to him whether i was alone in my room or in my box at the theatre. he went away, winking his eyes, as he always did whenever anything disturbed him. some time afterwards, the grand duke came into my room. he was in a fearful passion, screaming like an eagle; accusing me of taking pleasure in enraging him, and saying that i had chosen to go to these plays because i knew he disliked them; but i represented to him that he ought not to dislike them. he told me that he would forbid my having a carriage. i replied that if he did i should go on foot, and that i could not imagine what pleasure he could find in compelling me to die of _ennui_ in my rooms, with no other company but my dog and my parrot. after a long and very angry dispute on both sides, he went away, in a greater rage than ever, and i still persisted in my intention of going to the play. when it got near the time for starting, i sent to ask count schouvaloff if the carriages were ready; he came and told me that the grand duke had forbidden any to be provided for me. then i became really angry, and told him that i would go on foot, and that if he forbade the ladies and gentlemen from attending me i would go alone; and, besides, that i would write and complain to the empress, both of the duke and of him. "what will you say to her?" he asked. "i will tell her," i said, "the manner in which i am treated, and that you, in order to secure for the grand duke a rendezvous with my maids of honour, encourage him to prevent my going to the theatre, where i might, perhaps, have the pleasure of seeing her imperial majesty; and besides this, i will beg of her to send me back to my mother, because i am weary of, and disgusted with, the part i play here: left alone and deserted in my room, hated by the grand duke, and not liked by the empress, i want to be at rest, and a burden to no one; i want to be freed from the necessity of making every one who approaches me unhappy, and particularly my poor servants, of whom so many have been exiled, because i was kind to them, or wished to be so. it is thus that i shall write to her imperial majesty, and i will see, moreover, whether you yourself will not be the bearer of my letter." my gentleman got frightened at the determined tone i assumed; he left me, and i sat down to write my letter to the empress in russian, making it as pathetic as i could. i began by thanking her for the kindness and favours with which she had loaded me ever since my arrival in russia, saying that, unfortunately, the event proved that i did not deserve them, since i had only drawn upon myself the hatred of the grand duke and the very marked displeasure of her imperial majesty; that as i was unhappy and shut up in my own room, where i was deprived of even the most innocent amusements, i begged her earnestly to put an end to my sufferings, by sending me to my relations in any manner she judged proper; that as for the children, as i never saw them, though living in the same house with them, it made little difference to me whether i was in the same place with them or some hundreds of leagues distant; that i was well aware that she took better care of them than my poor powers would enable me to do; that i ventured to entreat her to continue this care of them; that confident of this, i would pass the rest of my time with my relations, in praying for her, the grand duke, my children, and all those who had done me either good or evil; but that my health was reduced by grief to such a state, that i did what i could to preserve my life, at least; and that with this object i addressed myself to her for permission to go to the waters, and thence to my relations. having written this letter, i summoned count schouvaloff, who, on entering, informed me that the carriages i had ordered were ready. i told him, while handing him my letter for the empress, that he might inform the gentlemen and ladies who did not wish to accompany me to the theatre, that i would dispense with their attendance. the count received my letter, winking his usual wink, but as it was addressed to her imperial majesty, he dared not refuse it. he also gave my message to the equerries and ladies, and it was his imperial highness who decided who was to go with me, and who was to remain with him. i passed through the ante-chamber, where i found him seated with the countess voronzoff, playing at cards in a corner. he rose, and she also, when he saw me--a thing which, on other occasions, he never did. in this ceremony i replied by a low curtsey, and passed on. i went to the theatre, where the empress did not come on that occasion. i fancy it was my letter which prevented her. on my return, count schouvaloff told me that her imperial majesty would have an interview with me herself. the count would seem to have informed the grand duke of my letter and the reply of the empress, for, although from that time he never set foot in my room, he used his utmost endeavours to be present at the interview which the empress was to have with me, and it was considered that this could not well be refused. while waiting for this interview to take place, i kept myself quiet, in my own apartments. i felt persuaded that if the schouvaloffs had had any idea of sending me home, or of frightening me with the threats of doing so, i had taken the best method of disconcerting the project; for nowhere were they likely to meet with greater resistance to it than in the mind of the empress herself, who was not at all inclined to strong measures of this kind; besides, she remembered the old misunderstandings in her own family, and certainly would not wish to see them renewed in her time. against me there could be only one point of complaint, which was, that her worthy nephew did not appear to me the most amiable of men, any more than i appeared to him the most amiable of women; and, as regarded this nephew, her opinions exactly coincided with my own. she knew him so well that for many years past she could not spend a quarter of an hour in his society without feeling disgust, or anger, or sorrow, and in her chamber, when he happened to be the subject of conversation, she would either melt into tears at the misfortune of having such a successor, or she would be unable to speak of him without exhibiting her contempt, and often applied to him epithets which he but too well merited. i have proofs of this in my hands, having found among her papers two notes written by her own hand, to whom i do not know, though one of them appears to have been for john schouvaloff, and the other for count rasoumowsky, in which she curses her nephew, and wishes him at the devil. in one occurs this expression, "_my damned nephew has greatly vexed me_;" and in another she says, "_my nephew is a fool, the devil take him_." besides, my mind was made up, and i looked upon my being sent away, or not, with a very philosophic eye. in whatever position it should please providence to place me, i should never be without those resources which talent and determination give to each one according to his natural abilities, and i felt myself possessed of sufficient courage either to mount or descend without being carried away by undue pride on the one hand, or being humbled and dispirited on the other. i knew that i was a human being, and, therefore, of limited powers, and then incapable of perfection, but my intentions had always been pure and good. if from the very beginning i had perceived that to love a husband who was not amiable, nor took any pains to be so, was a thing difficult, if not impossible; yet, at least, i had devoted myself both to him and his interests with all the attachment which a friend, and even a servant, could devote to his friend and master. my counsel to him had always been the very best i could devise for his welfare, and, if he did not choose to follow it, the fault was not mine, but that of his own judgment, which was neither sound nor just. when i came to russia, and during the first years of our union, had this prince shown the least disposition to make himself supportable, my heart would have been opened for him, but when i saw that of all possible objects i was the one to whom he showed the least possible attention, precisely because i was his wife, it is not wonderful i should find my position neither agreeable nor to my taste, or that i should consider it irksome, or even painful. this latter feeling i suppressed more resolutely than any other; the pride and cast of my disposition rendered the idea of being unhappy most repugnant to me. i used to say to myself, happiness and misery depend on ourselves; if you feel unhappy, raise yourself above unhappiness, and so act that your happiness may be independent of all eventualities. with such a disposition i was born with a great sensibility, and a face, to say the least of it, interesting, and which pleased at first sight, without art or effort. my disposition was naturally so conciliating, that no one ever passed a quarter of an hour in my company without feeling perfectly at ease, and conversing with me as if we had been old acquaintances. naturally indulgent, i won the confidence of those who had any relations with me, because every one felt that the strictest probity and good-will were the impulses which i most readily obeyed, and, if i may be allowed the expression, i venture to assert, in my own behalf, that i was a true gentleman, whose cast of mind was more male than female, though, for all that, i was anything but masculine, for, joined to the mind and character of a man, i possessed the charms of a very agreeable woman. i trust i shall be pardoned for giving this candid expression of my feelings, instead of seeking to throw around them a veil of false modesty. besides, this very writing must prove what i have asserted of mind, disposition, and character. i have just said that i was pleasing, consequently half the road of temptation was already traversed, and it is in the very essence of human nature that, in such cases, the other half should not remain untracked. for to tempt, and to be tempted, are things very nearly allied, and, in spite of the finest maxims of morality impressed upon the mind, whenever feeling has anything to do in the matter, no sooner is it excited than we have already gone vastly farther than we are aware of, and i have yet to learn how it is possible to prevent its being excited. flight alone is, perhaps, the only remedy; but there are cases and circumstances in which flight becomes impossible, for how is it possible to fly, shun, or turn one's back in the midst of a court? the very attempt would give rise to remarks. now, if you do not fly, there is nothing, it seems to me, so difficult as to escape from that which is essentially agreeable. all that can be said in opposition to it will appear but a prudery quite out of harmony with the natural instincts of the human heart; besides, no one holds his heart in his hand, tightening or relaxing his grasp of it at pleasure. but to return to my narrative. the morning after the play, i gave out that i was unwell, and kept my room, waiting patiently for the decision of her imperial majesty upon my humble request. however, the first week in lent i judged it prudent to go to my duty, in order to show my attachment to the orthodox church. the second or third week of lent brought me another bitter affliction. one morning after i had risen, my servants informed me that count alexander schouvaloff had sent for madame vladislava. this i thought somewhat strange. i waited her return anxiously, but in vain. about an hour after noon, count schouvaloff came to apprise me that her majesty the empress had thought fit to remove madame vladislava from me. i burst into tears, and said, that of course, her imperial majesty had a right to remove or place with me whomsoever she pleased, but that i was grieved to find, more and more, that all who came near me were so many victims devoted to the displeasure of her imperial majesty; and that in order that there might be fewer such victims, i begged and entreated him to request her majesty to send me home to my relations as soon as possible, and thus put an end to a state of things which compelled me to be continually making some one or other miserable. i also assured him that the removal of madame vladislava would not serve to throw any light upon anything whatever, because, neither she nor any one else possessed any confidence. the count was about to reply, but hearing my sobs, he began to weep with me, and told me that the empress would herself speak to me on the subject. i entreated him to hasten the moment, which he promised to do. i then went to my attendants, related what had occurred, and added that if any duenna i happened to dislike took the place of madame vladislava, she might make up her mind to receive from me the worst possible treatment, not even excepting blows; and i begged them to repeat this wherever they pleased, so as to deter all who might wish to be placed about me from being in too great haste to accept the charge, for that i was tired of suffering, and as i saw that my mildness and patience had produced no other result than that of making everything connected with me go from bad to worse, i had made up my mind to change my conduct entirely. my people did not fail to repeat all i wished. the evening of this day, during which i had wept a great deal, walking up and down my room, much agitated both in mind and body, one of my maids, named catherine ivanovna cheregorodskaya, came into my bed-room, where i was quite alone, and said to me very affectionately, and with many tears, "we are all very much afraid you will sink under these afflictions; let me go to-day to my uncle--he is your own confessor as well as the empress'--i will talk to him, and tell him everything you wish, and i promise you he will speak to the empress in a manner that will give you satisfaction." perceiving her good disposition towards me, i told her without reserve the state of matters; what i had written to her imperial majesty, and everything else. she went to her uncle, and, having talked the matter over, and disposed him to favour my cause, she returned about eleven o'clock to tell me that her uncle advised me to give out in the course of the night that i was ill, and wanted to confess, and thus send for him, in order that he might be able to repeat to the empress what he should hear from my own lips. i very much approved of this idea, and promised to carry it out, and then dismissed her, thanking both herself and uncle for the attachment they displayed for me. accordingly, between two and three o'clock in the morning, i rang my bell. one of my women entered. i told her i felt so unwell that i wished to confess. in place of a confessor, count alexander schouvaloff came running to me. in a weak and broken voice i renewed my request that my confessor should be sent to me. he sent for the doctors, and to these i said that it was spiritual succour i stood in need of; that i was choking. one felt my pulse, and said it was weak; i replied that my soul was in danger, and that my body had no further need of doctors. at length my confessor arrived, and we were left alone. i made him sit by the side of my bed, and we had a conversation of at least an hour and a-half in length. i described to him the state of things past and present; the grand duke's conduct to me, and mine towards him; the hatred of the schouvaloffs, and the constant banishment, or dismissal, of my people, and always of those who had grown most attached to me, and, finally, the hatred of her imperial majesty, drawn upon me by the schouvaloffs; in short, the whole present position of affairs, and what had led me to write to the empress the letter in which i demanded to be sent home, and i begged him to procure me a speedy reply to my prayer. i found him with the best disposition possible for serving me, and by no means such a fool as he was reported to be. he told me that my letter did and would produce the effect i wished; that i must persist in my demand to be sent home, a demand which most certainly would not be complied with, because such a step could not be justified in the eyes of the public, who had their attention directed towards me. he agreed that i had been treated very cruelly; that the empress, having chosen me at a very tender age, had abandoned me to the mercy of my enemies; and that she would do far better to banish my rivals, and especially elizabeth voronzoff, and keep a check upon her favourites, who had become the blood-suckers of the people, by means of the new monopolies which the schouvaloffs were every day devising, besides which, they were daily giving the people cause to complain of their injustice, as witness the affair of count bestoujeff, of whose innocence the public were persuaded. he concluded by telling me that he would immediately proceed to the empress' apartments, where he would wait until she awoke, in order to speak to her on the subject; and that he would then press for the interview which she had promised me, and which ought to be decisive; and that i would do well to keep my bed: he would add, he said, that grief and affliction might cause my death, if some speedy remedy were not applied, and i was not removed, by some means or other, from my present condition where i was left, alone and abandoned by every one. he kept his word, and painted so vividly to the empress my unfortunate state, that she summoned count alexander schouvaloff, and ordered him to inquire if my condition would allow me to come and speak to her the following evening. count schouvaloff came to me with this message, and i told him for such an object i would summon all the strength i had left. towards evening i rose, and schouvaloff informed me that, after midnight, he would accompany me to the apartments of her imperial majesty. my confessor sent me word by his niece, that everything was going on well, and that the empress would speak to me that evening. i therefore dressed myself about ten o'clock at night, and lay down fully dressed upon a couch, where i fell asleep. about half-past one, count schouvaloff entered the apartment, and told me that the empress had asked for me. i arose, and followed him. we passed through several ante-chambers, entirely empty, and on arriving at the door of the gallery, i saw the grand duke enter by the opposite door, and perceived that he too was about to visit the empress. i had never seen him since the day of the play; even when i had given out that my life was in danger, he neither came nor sent to inquire after my health. i afterwards learned that on this very day he had promised elizabeth voronzoff to marry her if i happened to die, and that both were rejoicing greatly at my condition. having at last reached her imperial majesty's room, i there found the grand duke. as soon as i perceived the empress, i threw myself at her feet, and begged her earnestly, and with tears, to send me back to my relations. the empress wished to raise me, but i remained at her feet; she appeared more grieved than angry, and said to me, with tears in her eyes, "why do you wish me to send you home? do you not remember that you have children?" i replied, "my children are in your majesty's hands, and cannot be better placed, and i trust that you will not abandon them." she then said to me, "but what excuse should i give to the public in justification of this step?" "your imperial majesty," i replied, "will state, if you think fit, the causes which have brought upon me your majesty's displeasure, and the hatred of the grand duke." "but how will you manage to live when you are with your relatives?" i replied, "as i did before your majesty did me the honour of bringing me here." to this she answered, "your mother is a fugitive; she has been compelled to retire, and has gone to paris." "i am aware of this," i said; "she was thought to be too much attached to the interests of russia, and the king of prussia has therefore persecuted her." the empress again bid me rise, which i did, and she walked away from me to some distance, musing. the apartment in which we were was long, and had three windows between which stood two tables, containing the gold toilet-service of the empress. no one was in the room but myself, the empress, the grand duke, and alexander schouvaloff. opposite the empress were some large screens, in front of which was a couch. i suspected from the first that john schouvaloff certainly, and perhaps also his cousin peter, were behind these. i learnt afterwards that my conjecture was in part correct, and that john schouvaloff actually was there. i stood by the side of the toilet-table, nearest to the door by which i entered, and noticed in the toilet-basin some letters folded up. the empress again approached me, and said, "god is my witness how i wept when you were dangerously ill, just after your arrival in russia. if i had not liked you, i should not have kept you." this i looked upon as an answer to what i had just said in reference to my having incurred her displeasure. i replied by thanking her majesty for all the kindness and favour she had shown me then and since, saying that the recollection of them would never be effaced from my memory, and that i should always regard my having incurred her displeasure as the greatest of my misfortunes. she then drew still nearer to me, and said, "you are dreadfully haughty: do you remember, that at the summer palace, i one day approached you, and asked if you had a stiff neck, because i noticed that you hardly bowed to me, and that it was from pride you merely saluted me with a nod." "gracious heavens! madame," i said, "how could your majesty possibly suppose that i should be haughty to you? i solemnly declare that it never once occurred to me that this question, asked four years ago, could have reference to any such thing." upon this she said, "you fancy there is no one so clever as yourself." "if i ever had any such conceit," i replied, "nothing could be better calculated to undeceive me than my present condition and this very conversation, since i see that i have been stupid enough not to understand, till this moment, what you were pleased to say to me four years ago." during my conversation with her majesty, the grand duke was whispering to count schouvaloff. she perceived this, and went over to them. they were both standing near the middle of the room. i could not very well hear what they were saying, as they did not speak loud, and the room was large. at last i heard the grand duke raise his voice and say, "she is dreadfully spiteful, and very obstinate." i then perceived they were talking about me, and, addressing the grand duke, i observed, "if it is of me you are speaking, i am very glad to have this opportunity of telling you, in the presence of her imperial majesty, that i am indeed spiteful to those who advise you to commit injustice, and that i have become obstinate because i see that i have gained nothing by yielding, but your hostility." he immediately retorted, "your majesty can see how malicious she is by what she says herself." but my words made a very different impression on the empress, who had infinitely more intellect than the grand duke. i could plainly see as the conversation progressed, that although she had been recommended, or had herself, perhaps, resolved to treat me with severity, her feelings softened by degrees in spite of herself and her resolutions. she, however, turned towards him, and said, "oh, you do not know all she has told me against your advisers, and against brockdorff, relative to the man you have had arrested." this must naturally have appeared to the duke a formal treason on my part. he did not know a word of my conversation with the empress, at the summer palace, and he saw his dear brockdorff, who had become so precious in his eyes, accused to her majesty, and that by me. this, therefore, was to put us on worse terms than ever, and perhaps render us irreconcilable, as well as deprive me, for the future, of all share in his confidence. i was thunderstruck when i heard her relating to him, in my presence, what i had told her, and, as i believed, for his own good, and found it thus turned against me like a weapon of destruction. the grand duke, very much astonished at this disclosure, said, "ah! here is an anecdote quite new to me; it is very interesting, and proves her spitefulness." i thought to myself, "god knows whose spitefulness it proves." from brockdorff her majesty passed abruptly to the connection discovered between stambke and count bestoujeff, and said to me, "i leave you to imagine how it is possible to excuse him for having held communication with a state-prisoner." as my name had not appeared in this affair, i was silent, as if the matter did not concern me. upon which the empress approached me, and said, "you meddle with many things which do not concern you. i should not have dared to have done so in the time of the empress anne. how, for instance, could you presume to send orders to marshal apraxine?" i replied, "i, madame? never has such an idea entered my head." "what!" she said, "will you deny having written to him? there are your letters in that basin," and she pointed to them as she spoke. "you are forbidden to write." "true," i replied, "i have transgressed in this respect, and i beg your pardon for it; but since my letters are there, these three letters will prove to your imperial majesty that i have never sent him any orders; but that in one of them i informed him of what was said of his conduct." here she interrupted me by saying, "and why did you write this to him?" i replied simply, "because i took a great interest in the marshal, whom i like very much. i begged him to follow your orders. of the two other letters, one contains only my congratulations on the birth of his son; and in the other i merely presented to him the compliments of the new-year." upon this she said, "bestoujeff asserts that there were many others." i replied, "if bestoujeff says that, he lies." "very well, then," she said, "since he has told lies concerning you, i will have him put to the torture." she thought by this to frighten me, but i answered that she could, of course, act according to her sovereign pleasure, but that i had never written more than those three letters to apraxine. she was silent, and appeared to be meditating. i relate the most salient points of this conversation which have remained in my memory; but it would be impossible for me to recollect all that was said in the course of an interview which lasted an hour and a-half at the least. the empress walked to and fro in the apartment, sometimes addressing herself to me, sometimes to her nephew, but more frequently to count alexander schouvaloff, with whom the grand duke conversed the greater part of the time, while the empress was speaking to me. i have already said that i remarked in her majesty's manner less of anger than of anxiety. as to the grand duke, during the whole interview he manifested much bitterness, animosity, and even passion towards me. he endeavoured as much as he could to excite the anger of her majesty against me, but as he did it so stupidly, and displayed more anger than justice, he failed in his object, and the penetration and sagacity of the empress disposed her rather to take my part. she listened, with marked attention and a kind of involuntary approval, to my firm and temperate replies to my husband's outrageous statements, from which it was perfectly evident that his object was to clear out my place, in order to establish in it the favourite of the moment. but this might not be to the empress' liking, neither might it suit the fancy of the messrs. schouvaloff to give themselves count voronzoff for a master; but all this transcended the judicial penetration of his imperial highness, who always believed in what he wished, and never would listen to anything which appeared the dominant idea of the moment; and on this occasion he dwelt so much upon it that the empress approached me and said, in a low voice, "i have many other things to say to you, but i do not wish you to be embroiled more than you are already." and with a look and a movement of her head, she intimated that it was on account of the presence of the others that she would not speak. perceiving this mark of sincere good-will at so critical a moment, my heart was moved, and i said to her, in a similar tone, "and i also am prevented from speaking, however earnest my desire to open to you my mind and heart." i saw that this made a favourable impression on her. tears came into her eyes, and to conceal her emotion, and the extent to which she was moved, she dismissed us, observing that it was very late; and, in fact, it was nearly three o'clock in the morning. the grand duke went out first, i followed, and just as alexander schouvaloff was passing out after me, her majesty called him back, and he remained with her. the grand duke strode on rapidly, as usual, but on this occasion i did not hurry myself to follow him. he entered his apartments, and i mine. i was beginning to undress, in order to go to bed, when i heard some one knocking at the door by which i had entered. on asking who was there, schouvaloff replied that it was he, and begged me to admit him, which i did. he desired me to dismiss my maids. they left the room. he then told me that the empress had called him back, and that, after talking to him for some time, she had charged him to bear to me her compliments, and to tell me not to distress myself, and that she would have another conversation with me quite alone. i made a low bow to the count, and begged him to present my most humble respects to her imperial majesty, and thank her for her kindness, which had restored me to life. i told him that i should look forward to this second interview with the utmost impatience, and entreated him to hasten its time. he requested me not to speak of it to any one whatever, especially the grand duke, who, her majesty saw, with regret, was greatly irritated against me. this i promised; though i could not help thinking to myself, "but if she regrets his irritation, why increase it by repeating our conversation at the summer palace, concerning those people whose society was brutalizing him?" this unexpected restoration of the favour and confidence of the empress, gave me, however, great pleasure. the next day i desired my confessor's niece to thank her uncle from me, for the signal service he had rendered me, by procuring for me this interview with her majesty. on her return she told me that her uncle had heard that the empress had called her nephew a fool, but said that the grand duchess had a great deal of sense. this remark came to me from more quarters than one, as well as that her majesty, among her intimate associates, was constantly extolling my talents, often adding, "she loves truth and justice; she is a woman of great sense; but my nephew is a fool." i still continued to keep my room, as before, under the pretext of bad health. i recollect that i read at this time, with the map before me, the first five volumes of the "histoire des voyages," and that i was both amused and instructed by the perusal. when tired of these, i turned over the early volumes of the "encyclopedia," while waiting until it should please her majesty to admit me to a second interview. i renewed, from time to time, my request to count schouvaloff, telling him that i was very anxious to have my destiny decided. as to the grand duke, i heard nothing more about him. i only knew that he was impatiently waiting for my dismissal, and that he confidently calculated on afterwards marrying elizabeth voronzoff. she came into his apartments, and already did the honours there. it appeared that her uncle, the vice-chancellor, who was a hypocrite, if ever there was one, had become aware of the projects of his brother, perhaps, or rather, it may be, of his nephews, who were then very young, the eldest being only twenty, or thereabouts, and fearing that his newly-revived credit with her majesty might suffer by it, he intrigued for the commission of dissuading me from demanding my dismissal; for this is what occurred. one morning, it was announced to me, that the vice-chancellor count voronzoff requested to speak to me on the part of the empress. surprised at this extraordinary deputation, i ordered him to be admitted, though i was not yet dressed. he began by kissing my hand, and pressing it warmly, and then wiped his eyes, from which a few tears fell. as i was a little prejudiced against him at that time, i did not put much faith in this preamble, by which he intended to show his zeal, but allowed him to go on with what i looked upon as a piece of buffoonery. i begged him to be seated. he was a little out of breath, owing to a species of goitre which troubled him. he sat down by me, and told me that the empress had charged him to speak to me, and dissuade me from insisting on my dismissal; that her majesty had even gone so far as to authorize him to beg me, in her name, to renounce a wish to which she never would give her consent, and that for his own part, especially, he conjured me to promise him that i would never speak of it again; adding that the project was a source of great grief to the empress, and to all good men, among whom, he begged to include himself. i replied that there was nothing i would not willingly do to please her majesty, and satisfy good men; but that i believed my health and life were endangered by my present mode of existence, and the treatment to which i was exposed; that i made everybody miserable; that all who came near me were either driven into exile or dismissed; that the grand duke was embittered against me even to hatred, and that, besides, he had never loved me; that her imperial majesty had shown me almost unceasing marks of her displeasure, and that seeing myself a burden to everybody, and nearly worn out with ennui and grief, i had asked to be sent back to my home, in order to free them all from the presence of so troublesome a personage. he spoke to me about my children; i told him i never saw them, and that i had not seen the youngest since my confinement, nor could i see them without an express permission from the empress, as their apartment was only two rooms distant from her own, and formed part of her suite; that i had not the least doubt she took great care of them, but that being deprived of the pleasure of seeing them, it was a matter of indifference to me whether i was a hundred yards or a hundred leagues away from them. he informed me that the empress would have a second conversation with me, and that it was greatly to be desired that her majesty should become reconciled to me. to this i replied by begging him to accelerate this second interview, and that i for my part would neglect nothing that could tend to realize his wishes. he remained more than an hour with me, and spoke at great length upon a multitude of things. i remarked that the increase of his influence had given him a certain advantage in speech and deportment which he did not formerly possess when i saw him in the crowd; and when discontented with the empress, with the state of affairs, and with those who possessed her confidence and favour, he said to me one day at court, seeing the empress speaking for a long time to the austrian ambassador, while he and i, and all besides, were kept standing, and tired to death, "what will you wager that she is not talking mere fiddle-faddle to him?" "good heavens!" i replied laughing, "what is it you say?" he answered me in russian, in the characteristic words, "she is by nature...."[ ] at length he left me, assuring me of his zeal, and took his leave, again kissing my hand. for the present, then, i might feel sure of not being sent home, since i was requested not even to speak of it; but i deemed it as well not to quit my room, and to continue there as if i did not expect my fate to be finally decided until the second audience which the empress was to give. for this i had to wait a long time. i remember that on the st of april, , my birth-day, i never went out. the empress, at her dinner-hour, sent me word by count alexander schouvaloff that she drank to my health. i requested my thanks to be given to her for her kind remembrance of me upon this day of my unhappy birth, which, i added, i would curse, were it not also the day of my baptism. when the grand duke learned that the empress had sent this message to me, he took it into his head to do the same. when his message was announced to me, i rose, and with a low courtesy expressed my thanks. after the _fêtes_ in honour of my birth-day, and of the empress' coronation day, which occurred within four days of each other, i still remained in my chamber, and never went out until count poniatowsky sent me word that the french ambassador, the marquis de l'hôpital, had been eulogizing the firmness of my conduct, and observed that the resolution i maintained of never leaving my room could not but be productive of advantage to me. taking this speech as the treacherous praise of an enemy, i determined to do exactly the contrary to what he advised; and, one sunday, when it was least expected, i dressed, and came out of my private room. the moment i entered the apartment occupied by the ladies and gentlemen in waiting, i remarked their astonishment at seeing me. some minutes after my appearance, the grand duke also entered. he looked equally astonished, and, while i was conversing with the company, he joined in the conversation, and addressed some remarks to me, to which i civilly replied. about this time, prince charles of saxony paid a second visit to st. petersburg. the grand duke had treated him cavalierly enough on the first occasion, but this time his imperial highness thought himself justified in observing no terms with him, and for this reason: it was no secret in the russian army that in the battle of zorndorf prince charles had been one of the first to fly; and it was even asserted that he had fled without once stopping until he reached landsberg. now his imperial highness having heard this, resolved that, as a proved coward, he would not speak to him, nor have anything to do with him. there was every reason to believe that the princess of courland, daughter of biren, did not a little contribute to this; for it had already begun to be whispered that there was an intention of making prince charles duke of courland. the father of the princess of courland was constantly retained at yaroslav. she communicated her hostility to the grand duke, over whom she had always contrived to retain a kind of ascendancy. she was then engaged for the third time to baron alexander tcherkassoff, to whom she was married the winter following. at last, a few days before our going into the country, count alexander schouvaloff came to inform me, on the part of the empress, that i was to ask this afternoon, through him, permission to visit my children, and that then, upon my leaving them, i should have that second audience with her majesty which had been so long promised. i did as i was directed, and, in presence of a number of people, i begged count schouvaloff to ask her majesty's permission for me to see my children. he went away, and on his return told me that i could see them at three o'clock. i was punctual to the time, and remained with my children until count schouvaloff came to tell me that her imperial majesty could be seen. i went to her, and found her quite alone, and this time there were no screens in the room, and consequently we were able to speak freely. i began by thanking her for the audience she gave me, saying that her gracious promise of it had restored me to life. upon which she said, "i expect you to reply with sincerity to all the questions that i may put to you." i assured her that she should hear nothing but the strict truth from me, and that there was nothing i desired more than to open my heart to her without reserve. then she again asked if there really had been no more than three letters written to apraxine. i solemnly assured her, and with perfect truth, that such was the fact. then she asked me for details concerning the grand duke's mode of life.... appendix. letters of the grand duke peter. [the following letters, by the grand duke peter, were discovered at moscow about a year ago, and have been communicated by m. a. herzen. we take them from the second edition of these memoirs, just issued, where they appear in print for the first time. they are curious and interesting, as illustrative of the defective education and low mental condition of the writer, but it would be impossible to translate them without depriving them of the very peculiarities which give them this value; for to attempt to represent, by english equivalents, their defects of style, and their grammatical and orthographical blunders, would be simply to produce a ridiculous travesty. we, therefore, present them in their original form, with their special orthography faithfully preserved.--tr.] i. _lettre à la grande-duchesse catherine._ madame,[ ]--je vous prie de ne point vous incommodes cette nuis de dormir avec moi car il n'est plus tems de me trompes, le let a été trop étroit, apres deux semaines de séparation de vous aujourd'hui apres mide. votre tres infortuné mari qui vous ne daignez jamais de ce nom peter. le . . . . . xr . ii. _lettres à jean schouvaloff._ monsieur,--je vous aie fait prier par lef alexandritz pour que je puisse aller a oranienbaum, mais je vois que ca n'a point d'effet, je suis malade et melancolique jusqu'au suppreme degré, je vous prie pour l'amour de dieu de faire ensorte aupres de sa majesté pour que je puisse partir bientot a oranienbaum si je ne vient point dehors de cette belle vie de cour pour être un peu dans ma volonté et jouir a mon aise l'air de la campagne je creverai surement ici d'aneui et de deplaisir vous me ferez revivre si vous ferez cela vous obligerez celui qui sera toute sa vie. votre affectioné, pierre. iii. monsieur,--comme je suis assuré que vous ne cherchez autre chose qua me faire plaisir, je suis donc assuré que vous le fairè dans l'affaire d'alexandre iwanitz narischkin pour prier sa majesté de me faire la grace de le faire gentilhomme de chambre aupres de moi pour la feste de pacques, cest un parfait hoñette homme que je ne recommanderai pas si je ne le conñoissois pour tel, pressé cette affaire je vous en seré bien redevable et au rest je suis. votre affectioné, pierre. iv. mon cher amy,--vous m'avez encore demonstré vostre amitié en faisant aupres de sa majesté imperiale qu'elle me donne dix mille ducats pour pajer ma deste que jai faite aux jeux, je vous prie de remercier de ma part sa majesté de cette nouvelle grace qu'elle m'a faite et assuré la que je tacherai toute ma vie de m'en rendre de plus en plus digne de touts des graces dont elle m'a comblé. pour vous monsieur recevez les remerciemens sincère d'un amy qui voudraint estre en etat de vous pouvoir convaincre combien il souhaitairai de vous en pouvoir rendre la pareille. aureste en vous priant destre toujour de ses amis comme auparavant je reste. vostre affectione amy, pierre. v. monsieur,--je vous aie tant de fois prie de supplier de ma part sa majesté impériale de me laisser voyager pour deux ans hors du pais, je vous le repete encore une fois vous priant tres instament de faire ensorte pour qu'on me l'accorde, ma santé sanfaiblissant de jour en jour plus, faites moi pour l'amour le dieu cette seule amitié de le faire et de ne me laisser pas mourir de chagrin mon etat n'etant plus en etat de soutenir mes chagrin et ma melancolie empirant de jour en jour, si vous croyez quil est besoin de la montrer a sa majesté vous me ferez le plus grand plaisir du monde et de plus je vous en prie. au reste je suis vostre affectioné, pierre. vi. monsieur,--je vous prie comme je scais que vous estes de mes amis de me faire le plasir d'aider le pere du porteur de cette lettre qui est le lieutenant gudowitz de mon regiment, sa fortune en depandt, il vous instruira de bouche lui meme comment l'affaire est tout ce que je scai se sont des intrigues de monsieur teploff qui n'en a fait pas la premiere, le hetman se laisse mener par cette homme par le nez et je ne peut plus vous dire que ca n'est pas la premiere ni la derniere affaire dont jaurai prie le hetmann, qui m'a refusé; jespere que vous fairez cette affaire, vous me fairez plaisir par ca parceque jaime cet officier encore je vous prie n'oubliez pas mes interest et moi je chercheré toujours de vous convaincre que je suis de vos amis. vostre affectioné, pierre. vii. monsieur,--j'ai esté extremement etonné que sa majesté s'est faché de ce que j'ai fait la mascarade et l'opera j'ai crue le faire de plus qu'à petersbourg monsieur locatelli l'a fait tout les semaines deux foix encore je me resouviens tres bien que quant il y avait le doeuil pour ma grand mere nous avons fait le bal chez nous et trois jour que le doeuil avoit commencé nous avons esté a la comedie au petit teatre, je vous prie dont monsieur d'avoir la bonté de prier sa majesté de me permettre de me divertir à mon aise et sans que je sois empeché leté vous savez assez combien ont sannuye dejà l'hiver de plus ajant dejà fait la depense du nouvau opera je ne croi pas que sa majesté voudra me faire faire une depense _inutile_ au reste je suis vostre affectioné, pierre. viii. _lettre à m. le baron de shakelberg à oranienbaum._ mon cher frere et amy,--je vous prie aujourd, hui de ne point oublier de faire ma commission auprès de la personne en question et de l'assurer que je suis pret à lui demontres mon parfait amour et que ce que je fait dans l'eglise, de ne la pas parler est que je ne veux pas faire trop devant les gens et assure lui encore que si elle voudra une fois seulement venir chez moy que je lui demontreré que je l'aime baucoup, si vous voulez mon cher et mon vray amy montrez luy la lettre et en croyant que je ne peut estre mieux servis que d'un ami comme vous, je suis votre fidel et attaché amy, pierre. the letter of catherine ii to poniatowsky.[ ] peter iii had lost the small share of sense which naturally belonged to him; he openly offended all parties; he wished to dismiss the guards, and was on the point of leading them into the country for this purpose, intending to replace them by his holstein troops, who were to be stationed in the city; he wished also to change the religion of the country, marry elizabeth voronzoff, repudiate me, and place me in confinement. on the occasion of the celebration of peace with the king of prussia, after having publicly insulted me at table, he gave, in the evening, an order for my arrest. my uncle, prince george, had the order retracted, and it was only from this time that i listened to the proposals which had been made to me since the death of the empress elizabeth. it was intended to seize him in his room, and imprison him, as had formerly been done in the case of the princess anne and her children. he went to oranienbaum. we had in our interest a great number of captains in the regiments of the guards. the fate of the secret was in the hands of the three brothers orloff, the elder of whom osten remembers to have seen following me everywhere, and perpetrating a thousand follies; his passion for me was notorious, and everything he has done has been inspired by it. all three are men of great determination, and very much beloved by the soldiery, as they have served in the guards. i am under the greatest obligations to them, as all st. petersburg can bear witness. the minds of the guards were prepared, and, towards the end, some thirty or forty officers and nearly ten thousand men were in the secret. in this number there was not a single traitor during the space of three weeks. there were four distinct parties, the chiefs of which were united for the execution, and the true secret was in the hands of the three brothers. panin wished to have it in favour of my son, but they would not listen to this. i was at peterhoff; peter iii was residing and carousing at oranienbaum. it had been agreed that, in case of treason, they would not await his return, but at once assemble the guards and proclaim me. their zeal for me did what treason would have effected. a report was spread on the th that i had been arrested. the soldiers became excited; one of our officers quieted them. then came a soldier to a captain, named pacik, the head of a party, and told him that i was certainly lost. pacik assured him that he had just heard from me. the man, still alarmed for my safety, went to another officer and told him the same story. this person was not in the secret; terrified at learning that an officer had dismissed the man without arresting him, he went to the major; the latter had pacik arrested, and sent, during the night, a report of the arrest to oranienbaum. instantly the whole regiment was in commotion, and our conspirators in alarm. it was resolved, in the first instance, to send to me the second brother orloff, to bring me into the city, while the other two brothers went about everywhere reporting that i had arrived there. the hetman, volkonsky, and panin, were in the secret. i was almost alone, at peterhoff, amongst my women, seemingly forgotten by every one. my days, however, were much disturbed, for i was regularly informed of all that was plotting both for and against me. at six o'clock on the morning of the th, alexis orloff entered my room, awoke me, and said very quietly, "it is time to get up; everything is prepared for proclaiming you." i asked for details. he replied, "_pacik has been arrested_." i no longer hesitated, but dressed hastily, without waiting to make any toilet, and entered the carriage which he had brought with him. another officer, disguised as a valet, was at the carriage-door; a third met us at the distance of some verstes from peterhoff. at five verstes from the city, i met the elder orloff with the younger prince baratinsky. the latter gave me up his seat in his carriage, my horses being tired out, and we drove to the barracks of the ismaïlofsky regiment. we found there only twelve men and a drummer, who instantly beat the alarm. the soldiers came running in, embraced me, kissed my feet, my hands, my dress, calling me their saviour. two of them brought in a priest between them, with the cross, and the oath was at once administered. this done, i was requested to enter a carriage. the priest walked in front, bearing the cross, and we proceeded to the regiment of simeonofsky, which advanced to meet us with shouts of _vivat!_ we next went to the church of kasan, where i alighted. the regiment of preobrajensky came up with like shouts of _vivat!_ at the same time saying to me, "pardon us for having come last, our officers detained us, but here are four of them whom we have brought to you under arrest, to show you our zeal, for we are of the same mind as our brethren." then came the horse-guards in a perfect delirium of delight. i have never seen anything like it. they shouted, they wept for very joy at the deliverance of their country. this scene took place between the garden of the hetman and the kasanski. the horse-guards were in a body, with their officers at their head. as i knew that my uncle prince george, to whom peter iii had given this regiment, was thoroughly hated by it, i sent some footguards to him, begging him to remain at home for fear of accident. but the guards had anticipated me, and had sent a detachment to arrest him. his house was pillaged, and he himself ill-treated. i went to the new winter palace, where the synod and senate had assembled. the manifesto and oath were drawn up in haste. thence i descended, and made, on foot, the inspection of the troops; there were more than fourteen thousand men, guards and country regiments. the instant i appeared the air was rent with shouts of joy, which were caught up and repeated by an innumerable multitude. i then proceeded to the old winter palace, to take the necessary measures for completing our work. there a council was held, and it was determined that i should go at the head of the troops to peterhoff, where peter iii was to dine. posts were stationed on all the roads, and we received information from moment to moment. i sent admiral taliezsin to cronstadt. then came the chancellor voronzoff to reprove me for having left peterhoff. he was led to the church to swear fealty to me; that was my answer. next came prince troubetzkoy and count alexander schouvaloff, also from peterhoff: they came to assure themselves of the fidelity of the regiments, and put me to death. they also were quietly led away to take the oath. having despatched all our couriers, and taken all our precautions, i dressed, about ten o'clock at night, in the uniform of the guards, and had myself proclaimed colonel amid acclamations of inexpressible enthusiasm. i mounted on horseback, and we left behind us only a small detachment from every regiment for the protection of my son, who remained in the city. thus i set out at the head of the troops, and we marched all night towards peterhoff. having reached the little monastery, the vice-chancellor galitsin brought me a very flattering letter from peter iii. i forgot to say that, on leaving the city, three soldiers, sent from peterhoff to distribute a manifesto among the people, brought it to me, saying, "here, this is what peter iii has charged us with; we give it to you, and we are very glad to have this opportunity of joining our brethren." after this first letter from peter iii, another was brought to me by general michael ismaïloff, who, throwing himself at my feet, said, "do you take me for an honest man?" i replied, "yes." "well, then," he said, "it is pleasant to have to deal with sensible people. the emperor offers to resign. i will bring him to you after his resignation, which is entirely voluntary, and i shall save my country from a civil war." i willingly charged him with this commission, and he departed to fulfil it. peter iii renounced the empire at oranienbaum, in full liberty, surrounded by fifteen hundred holstein troops, and came to peterhoff, accompanied by elizabeth voronzoff, godowitz, and michael ismaïloff. there, as a guard, i assigned him five officers and some soldiers. this was on the th of june, the feast of st. peter, at noon. while dinner was being prepared for every one, the soldiers got it into their heads that peter iii had been brought by the field-marshal prince troubetzkoy, and that the latter was endeavouring to make peace between us. instantly they charged all the passers-by, among others the hetman, the orloffs, and many others, saying that they had not seen me for three hours, and that they were dying with fear lest that old rogue, troubetzkoy, should deceive me "by making," they said, "a pretended peace between your husband and you, and thus ruining you and us also, but we will cut them in pieces." these were their expressions. i went and spoke to troubetzkoy, and said to him, "pray get into your carriage, while i make, on foot, the tour of these troops." i related what had occurred; he was much frightened, and instantly set off for the city, while i was received by the soldiers with unbounded joy. after this, i placed the deposed emperor under the command of alexis orloff, with four chosen officers, and a detachment of quiet and sober men, and sent him to a distance of twenty-seven verstes from st. petersburg, to a place called rapscha, very retired, but very pleasant, where he was to remain, while decent and comfortable apartments were prepared for him at schlusselburg, and relays of horses placed on the road. but it pleased god to dispose otherwise. terror had brought on a dysentery, which continued for three days, and stopped on the fourth. he drank to excess on that day, for he had everything he wanted except his liberty. he had, however, asked me for nothing but his mistress, big dog, his negro, and his violin; but, for fear of scandal, and not wishing to increase the general excitement, i sent him only the three last named. the hemorrhoidal cholic again came on, accompanied by delirium; he was two days in this condition, which was followed by excessive weakness, and, notwithstanding the efforts of the physicians, he at last sunk, demanding a lutheran clergyman. i was afraid the officers might have poisoned him, so much was he hated. i had him opened, but not a trace of poison could be discovered. the stomach was very healthy, but the bowels were inflamed, and he had been carried off by a stroke of apoplexy. his heart was excessively small, and also dried up. after his departure from peterhoff, i was advised to go straight to the city. i foresaw that the troops would be alarmed, and i therefore had the report spread, under the pretext of ascertaining at what hour they would be in a condition to march. after three days of such excessive fatigue, they fixed the time for ten o'clock that night, "provided," they added, "that she comes with us." i departed, therefore, with them, and midway stopped to rest at the country residence of kourakin, where i flung myself on a bed, dressed as i was. an officer took off my boots. i slept two hours and a half, and then we resumed our march by the catherinoff road. i was on horseback; a regiment of hussars marched in front; then my escort, which was the horse-guards; then immediately after me came my court; behind which marched the regiments of the guards, according to seniority, and three country regiments. i entered the city amid loud acclamations, and proceeded thus to the summer palace, where the court, the synod, my son, and all privileged to approach me, were awaiting me. i went to mass; then the _te deum_ was sung; then i had to receive felicitations--i who had scarcely eaten, or drank, or slept since six o'clock on friday morning. i was very glad to be able to retire to rest on sunday night. scarcely was i asleep, when, at midnight, captain pacik entered my room and awoke me, saying, "our people are horribly drunk: a hussar, in the same condition, has gone among them crying, 'to arms! three thousand prussians are coming; they want to carry off our mother!' upon this they have seized their arms, and have come to inquire how you are, saying that it is three hours since they have seen you, and that they will go quietly home, provided they find that you are well. they will not listen to their chiefs, nor even to the orloffs." so i had to get up again; and, not to alarm the guard of the court, which consisted of a battalion, i first went to them, and explained the reason of my going out at such an hour. i then entered my carriage with two officers, and proceeded to the troops. i told them i was quite well, that they must go home to bed, and allow me also to have some rest, as i had only just laid down, having had no sleep for three nights, and that i trusted they would in future listen to their officers. they replied that they had been frightened with those cursed prussians, and that they were ready to die for me. "very well, then," i said, "i am very much obliged to you, but go to bed." upon this they wished me good night and good health, and went off like lambs, every now and then turning back to look at my carriage as they went. the next day they sent me their apologies and regrets for having broken my rest. it would require a volume to describe the conduct of each of the chiefs. the orloffs have shone by their skill in guiding others, their prudent daring, their great presence of mind, and the authority which this conduct gave them. they have a great deal of good sense, a generous courage, an enthusiastic patriotism, and an honourable mind. they are passionately devoted to me, and united amongst each other to a degree that i have never before seen in brothers. there are five of them, but only three were here. captain pacik has greatly distinguished himself by remaining for twelve hours under arrest, although the soldiers opened doors and windows for him; and this he did in order not to alarm his regiment before my arrival, although he expected every moment to be led to oranienbaum, and put to the question. fortunately this order from peter iii did not arrive until i had entered st. petersburg. the princess dashkoff, the youngest sister of elizabeth voronzoff, although she wishes to arrogate to herself all the honour of this revolution, was in very bad odour on account of her connections, while her age, which is only nineteen, was not calculated to inspire confidence. she pretends that everything passed through her to reach me, yet i was in communication with all the chiefs for six months before she even knew one of their names. it is quite true that she has great talent, but it is spoilt by her excessive ostentation and her naturally quarrelsome disposition. she is hated by the chiefs, and liked by the giddy and rash, who communicated to her all they knew, which was only the minor details. ivan schouvaloff, the basest and most cowardly of men, has written, i am told, to voltaire, that a woman of nineteen had overturned the government of this empire. pray undeceive this distinguished writer. it was necessary to conceal from the princess dashkoff the channels through which others reached me, five months before she knew anything; and, during the last four weeks, no more was told her than was absolutely unavoidable. the strength of mind of prince baratinsky, who concealed this secret from a beloved brother, adjutant to the late emperor, simply because a disclosure would have been in this case useless, also deserves great commendation. in the horse-guards an officer named chitron(?), only twenty-two years old, and an inferior officer of seventeen, named potemkin, directed everything with great courage and activity. such, pretty nearly, is our history. the whole was managed, i confess, under my immediate direction, and towards the end i had to check its progress, as our departure for the country prevented the execution; everything, in fact, was more than ripe a fortnight beforehand. the late emperor, when he heard of the tumult in the city, was hindered by the women about him from following the counsel of old field-marshal munich, who advised him to throw himself into cronstadt, or proceed with a small retinue to the army; and when, finally, he went in a galley to cronstadt, the place was in our hands by the good management of admiral talieszin, who disarmed general lievers, previously sent there on the part of the emperor. after the arrival of talieszin, an officer of the port, on his own responsibility, threatened to open fire on the galley of the unfortunate prince if he attempted a landing. in a word, god has brought everything about in his own good pleasure, and the whole is more of a miracle than a merely human contrivance, for assuredly nothing but the divine will could have produced so many felicitous combinations. _we will close this letter of catherine ii. by a short extract from a dispatch of m. bérenger, chargé d'affaires of france, dated the d of june, and bearing on these occurrences:_ "what a sight for the nation itself, a calm spectator of these events! on one side, the grandson of peter i dethroned and put to death; on the other, the grandson of the czar ivan languishing in fetters; while a princess of anhalt usurps the throne of their ancestors, clearing her way to it by a regicide." the end. * * * * * recent publications of d. appleton & company, & broadway. passages from the autobiography of sidney, lady morgan. vol. mo. cloth, $ . onward; or, the mountain clamberers. a tale of progress. by jane anne winscom. vol. mo., cloth, cents. legends and lyrics. by anne adelaide proctor, (daughter of barry cornwall.) vol. mo. cents. shakers. compendium of the origin, history, principles, rules and regulations, government and doctrines of the united society of believers in christ's second appearing. by f. w. evans. vol. mo. cents. the banks of new york. their dealers; the clearing house, and the panic of . with a financial chart. by j. s. gibbons. with thirty illustrations. by herrick. vol. mo. pages, cloth, $ . the manual of chess. containing the elementary principles of the game. illustrated with numerous diagrams, recent games, and original problems. by charles kenny. volume, mo. cents. le cabinet des fées; or, recreative readings. arranged for the express use of students in french. by george gerard, a. m. volume, mo. $ . halleck's poetical works. in blue and gold. mo. cents. letters from spain and other countries. by wm. cullen bryant. volume, mo. cloth. the foster brothers. being the history of the school and college life of two young men. volume, mo. life of james watt. the inventor of the modern steam engine. with selections from his private correspondence. by james p. muirhead. portrait and wood cuts. history of the state of rhode island and providence plantations. by samuel greene arnold. vol. , to . vo. price, $ a text book of vegetable and animal physiology. designed for schools, colleges and seminaries in the united states. by henry goadby, m. d. embellished with illustrations. 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[ ] du développement des idées révolutionnaires en russie. ed., london, . [ ] official?--ed. [ ] diplomatic?--ed. [ ] that is, went to confession and communion.--tr. [ ] devierre?--ed. [ ] that is, from meat.--tr. [ ] montagnes russes.--ed. [ ] probably _dartres_.--ed. [ ] "quoi, pas une mouche!" je me mis à rire et lui répondis que c'était pour être plus légèrement habillée.--the english word fails to convey the playfulness of the reply.--tr. [ ] to make a history of a thing is a common russian phrase for "to season it with scandal and exaggeration."--tr. [ ] sir charles hanbury williams.--tr. [ ] a fool (doura, in russian).--ed. [ ] this letter was sent by one of the grand duke's servants, named andré, but it was intercepted by steholin, and the grand duchess never received it. [ ] after the perusal of the foregoing memoirs, it will be interesting to turn to the account which catherine has given of the revolution which placed her on the throne. it is in the form of a letter, written or dictated by the empress herself, and appears to have been addressed to poniatowsky. although already printed, it is but little known, and the reader, we doubt not, will be glad to have it in this place. we take it from a most interesting work, published at berlin in , by schneider, _la cour de la russie, il y cent ans_ (the court of russia, a hundred years ago). * * * * * typographical errors corrected by the etext transcriber: i told hiin=> i told him {pg } i bey your pardon=> i beg your pardon {pg } placed with me bebause=> placed with me because {pg } pepnine=> repnine {pg } the prineess repnine=> the princess repnine {pg } yevrienoff entreated me=> yevreinoff entreated me {pg } seven vertses=> seven verstes {pg } the fits thing=> the first thing {pg } +-------------------------------------------------+ |transcriber's note: | | | |obvious typographic errors have been corrected. | | | +-------------------------------------------------+ the land of riddles (russia of to-day) by hugo ganz translated from the german and edited by herman rosenthal [illustration: logo] harper & brothers publishers new york and london copyright, , by harper & brothers. _all rights reserved._ published november, . contents chap. page preface v i. introduction ii. warsaw iii. warsaw--_continued_ iv. st. petersburg v. st. petersburg--_continued_ vi. artist and professor--ilya ryepin vii. the hermitage viii. the hermitage--_continued_ ix. the camorra--a talk with a russian prince x. sÄnger's fall xi. the people's palace of st. petersburg (narodni dom) xii. russia's financial future xiii. the russian finances xiv. a funeral xv. the chinovnik (the russian official) xvi. the sufferings of the jews xvii. the jewish question xviii. plehve xix. the administration of justice xx. the imperial family as the public sees it xxi. public opinion and the press xxii. some realities of the legal profession xxiii. the student body in russia xxiv. before the catastrophe xxv. sectarians and socialists xxvi. moscow xxvii. moscow--_continued_ xxviii. a visit to tolstoÏ xxix. a visit to tolstoÏ--_continued_ xxx. a visit to tolstoÏ--_continued_ preface in this volume is presented to american readers an unbiased description of the real state of affairs in russia to-day. the sketches here brought together are the result of a special visit to russia by mr. hugo ganz, the well-known writer of vienna, who was furnished with the best of introductions to the various circles of russian society, and had thus exceptional opportunities to acquire reliable information. were not the reputation of the author and the standard of his informants alike absolutely above suspicion, it would seem incredible that such conditions as those depicted could exist in the twentieth century in a country claiming a place among civilized nations. indeed, whereas japan has incontestably proved that she is emerging from the darkness of centuries, russia is content to remain in a state of semi-barbarism which might be looked for in the middle ages. since the sketches were written, the birth of an heir to the imperial throne and the assassination of von plehve have altered russian conditions to a certain extent. but though the appointment of svyatopolk-mirski seems at first sight to afford ground for congratulation, it is evident that even with the best intentions the new minister of the interior will hardly be able to effect much amelioration until the entire system of the russian government is changed. several of the articles in the following pages have appeared in the berlin _nation_ and in the frankfort _zeitung_, and have received very favorable notice in the german press. it is intended to publish an edition of the book in german, but the present translation is the only authorized one in the english language. herman rosenthal new york public library, _october , _. the land of riddles (russia of to-day) i introduction shortly before my departure from vienna i chanced to meet an acquaintance, a viennese writer. "are you really going to russia?" said he. "i almost envy you, for it is to us a land of riddles. it has great artists and writers and undoubtedly a highly educated upper stratum of the nation; at the same time it displays political conditions really barbarous in their backwardness. how are these co-ordinated? how is the maintenance possible, in the close proximity of comparatively free governments, of a régime which knows no personal liberty, no privacy of the mails, and in which there is but one master--namely, the absolute police?" "you are raising the very questions which lead me there," i replied. "we do not know russia. we wonder at its great writers, but we cannot conceive how their greatness is possible under the existing conditions of public life, which remind one of a penitentiary rather than of a civilized state. and the question that persistently arises is whether our conception of these conditions corresponds to reality, or whether we are laboring under such a delusion as would befall one attempting to judge public life in germany from the speeches of bebel and other radicals. in truth, we know only the opposition or revolutionary literature of russia; and, as far as appearances go, it is hardly credible that a system such as it describes and brands for its _inhuman_ wickedness can long retain the ascendency." "you are going, then, without prejudices?" "i think i may say that i have none. we have long been cured of the notion that one and the same form of government may be prescribed as the only one leading to contentment in all times and in all countries. deductive philosophy in political science has been replaced by inductive realistic philosophy, and a true understanding of existing conditions appears now to us of greater moment than the most beautiful ideals. above all things, i feel myself free from the childish moral valuation of different political beliefs. one person may be at the same time a conservative and a gentleman or a radical and a knave. should i come to the conclusion that russian absolutism is or can be defended in good faith by upright russian patriots there will be nothing to prevent my freely admitting it. an unbiased observer should not be wedded to any doctrine." "in that case i shall be doubly curious as to the results of your studies." we parted. i have cited here this characteristic conversation because it demonstrates better than any introduction what the intelligent european is nowadays eager to discover about russia, and what led me in the depth of winter, at the critical moment before the outbreak of a great war, to the northern empire. that this war was imminent was then (at the beginning of january) apparent to every statesman free from official bias. there was scarcely a foreboding of it in russia itself. for me, however, that particular moment was of value, for it offered an opportunity to study for a short time russian society, first in a state of calm, and then in the excitement which naturally followed the declaration of war. i made provision for both war and peace and set out on my journey. to be sure, i was not as light of heart as if i had been preparing to spend the winter on the riviera or in sicily. the climate had no terrors for me, for i knew that nowhere is one so well protected from the severity of the season as in the regions where ice and snow hold sway for at least one-third of the year. but it was the gorgon-headed russian police that confronted me threateningly. my aim in travel was the study of political conditions, the unreserved discussion with clear-sighted and well-informed persons of the existing state of affairs. it was my purpose to record carefully my impressions and observations, and to report them to all who were interested in my studies. but we are told that all political conversation is forbidden in russia. one may subject himself and his friends to great annoyance by allowing some meddling ear-witness to catch accidentally a fragment of a political conversation. writing and note-taking are even more dangerous; for the police open all letters, and they are not deterred by any conscientious scruples from confiscating the notes even of foreigners when they appear suspicious. ambassadors and consuls are loath to engage in altercations with the russian police, for statesmanship enjoins friendly relations with the government of the powerful russian empire, and when an inconvenient foreigner disappears somewhere in darkest russia--as was the case with a french engineer who came in conflict with the police in a concert-hall and was never seen again--no one is disturbed by the incident. all these reflections were not cheering to me, who, besides, was unfamiliar with the language of the country. none the less was i averse to returning home without my whole skin or with empty hands. here i would state that i did not experience the slightest annoyance throughout my entire journey. i was not subjected to police surveillance, nor did i notice in my meagre correspondence the least trace of police interference--the latter being probably due to the extreme precautions taken by me in sending my mail in inconspicuous envelopes. and yet what a condition of things for a great country--that every traveller who wishes to enter its territory must arm himself with precautionary measures, as if he were preparing to visit a robber's den! is it compatible with the usages of modern europe, forsooth, that no step may be taken in this country without one's being provided with documents of identification; that one may not cross the boundary either into or out of the country without the special permission of the consulate or of the police? is russia a state or a prison? is it a modern tauris full of terrors to the stranger? i am not now speaking of the passport difficulties peculiar to jews, who, generally speaking, can hardly obtain entrance to holy russia, and who, when they succeed in gaining admission, must be in constant dread of unpleasantness in every town and in every hotel. i merely ask whether it is compatible with the good name of a state that still wishes to exchange courtesies with neighboring states to appear in the popular imagination as a ferocious monster ignoring right and without decency? how can trade and intercourse develop; how can the unimpeded flow of the sap of culture, the circulation of the national blood, take place in a land where terror guards the boundaries and where the reputation of arbitrariness impedes all progress? and what modern state or system of national economy may, without the unimpeded circulation of the sap of culture, maintain itself at a level corresponding to the modern requirements of its internal and external productive capacity? are the advantages of an all-controlling police system in any degree proportionate to its innumerable economic disadvantages? is the occasional annoyance of a really objectionable intruder sufficient compensation for the evil reputation which this system attaches to the whole country? it is a sheer impossibility to watch daily and hourly a hundred million people. why are such enormous sacrifices made at all for the sake of an undertaking injurious in itself and, moreover, impossible of execution? such are the thoughts that the traveller approaching the frontier cannot escape. i may here say, in advance, that the police could not prevent my holding conversations throughout russia with men in various walks of life on subjects very objectionable to the police officials. is it worth while, then, to bear the evil repute that russia is a prison where no man's life or property is secure? apart from actual fact, the stranger does not know, before crossing the boundary, whether the police tyranny is really as inexorable as it is pictured and is believed abroad, but of this he is certain, that such an evil reputation does the country incalculable economic injury, and that a country with such an evil repute can never be regarded as mature from the economic stand-point, to say nothing of political honor, to which, perhaps, there is a disposition to attach less value in the high places of autocratic rule. ii warsaw the express-train is nearing the frontier at dawn. we are greeted by the sleeping-car conductor with the significant announcement, "we shall soon be in russia"--an announcement which, it must be confessed, produces a slight palpitation of the heart. we are now at the gate of a mysterious country, with passport and baggage in the best of order. a russian consulate had found us worthy to set foot upon the soil of holy russia, and had explicitly stated that fact in our passport. travellers may journey without this certificate through the five continents, but if unprovided with it may not set foot on russian soil. we have no weapons save our five fingers, and, above all, not a single printed book or newspaper that might cause trouble at the frontier, excepting the invaluable _baedeker_, for the importation of books, as we already knew at home, is put under severe ban in the domain of the holy synod. none the less, a slight palpitation of the heart, a slight anxiety, are felt at the sight of a narrow bridge leading between two sentry-boxes over a small stream separating two countries--nay, two civilizations. shall we find favor in the eyes of the almighty gendarme who enters our coupé with a polite bow, as we approach the station, and asks for our passport? may it not be that a secret police prohibition has preceded us, notwithstanding the regularity of our passport, and that it now precludes our entrance? has not your pen sinned many a time against the knout and autocracy, and are you not, after all, if carefully examined, with all your scribbling, a thoroughly objectionable person in the eyes of the police--at least, when seen with russian eyes? but, thank heaven, the world is great and i am insignificant; russian censorship has not yet taken notice of all the sins of my pen; hence the same officer returns to me with the same bow my passport after the customs inspection. the holy russian empire, from warsaw to vladivostok, is now exposed to my curious eyes. the customs inspection was in itself a peculiar experience. the porter, a pole with a good-natured, handsome face, takes our baggage and baggage-certificate, and invites us with a friendly gesture to follow him to the great inspection hall. the hall is scrupulously clean and no loud talking is heard there. the passengers take their places on one side of the inspection-table, the porters on the other, the latter in orderly file with their caps in their hands. they communicate with one another only with their eyes. _silence_ has begun. i do not know whether it is purposely so, or whether it is merely incidental to the particularly strict local régime, that the implicit obedience, the silent subjection, and the irresistible power of despotism are here brought home so effectively to the stranger. but this impression remains with the traveller throughout the entire journey: "be silent, restrain yourselves, we are watched in word and look." an empire of one hundred and thirty millions of prisoners and of one million jailers--such is russia; and these jailers understand no joke. it is a terrible machinery, this despotism, with all its wheels working one within the other. it is relentless and keen in all its mechanism, henceforth no loud word shall be spoken. the official organs alone have a voice; private persons may speak only in low tones. but how orderly, politely, and neatly do the officials and porters execute the examination and forwarding of our baggage when despotism wishes to reconcile people to its threatening silence. only ten kopeks, turned into the common treasury, are asked for the handling of our large amount of baggage, and we are then led, together with the other travellers, to the russian exit of the customs inspection hall. after a short wait there the gate is opened, and at a given signal we are marched out of the hall in single file to refresh ourselves, before the departure of the train, with a little breakfast. scrupulous cleanliness reigns in the large, airy restaurant also. we are in the land of caviar. caviar sandwiches, appetizingly prepared, lie on the buffet-table. "caviar" may also be found in one or another of the foreign papers offered for sale by the newsboys. when the censorship finds it inconvenient to eliminate entire pages whose contents are objectionable, it generously spreads printer's ink on the condemned passages, scatters sand over them, and puts the whole in the press. the result is a lattice-like pattern, not unlike in appearance to pressed caviar, to which the russian, with good-natured self-derision, applies the term "press-caviar," an expression which has a two-fold meaning. caviar is admittedly regarded as an easily digestible food. the russian censor considers his caviar more useful and less harmful than that which ill-advised men in foreign countries allow themselves to print. a few glasses of tea drawn from a samovar drive away the last traces of the morning frost, and, wrapped in fur coats, and with a feeling like that succeeding an adventure crowned with victory, we for the first time stroll along a russian railway platform. we again enter the coupé, now in charge of russian attendants. a long, monotonous ride through level, swampy country, over which there slowly floats the gray vapor of the locomotive, finally brings us at dusk to warsaw. nothing oppresses the spirit more deeply than such a ten-hour monotony of leaden-gray skies, dirty-gray snow, and a thick, gray, smoky mist. the gendarmes in gray coats at the infrequent stations; the greasy jews with their long coats of uncertain color; the secret police with their questionable gentility, never absent--all these are not calculated to relieve the painful feeling of sadness and dreariness. we were out of humor when we reached warsaw. we believed that we had the right to expect crisp winter weather in russia and were disappointed to find only mud and humidity. but perhaps warsaw is not really russia? or are we still in central europe? the evening at the hotel and the following days conclusively proved to us that warsaw, indeed all poland, with its climate, its civilization, its religion, and--its ideas, does not belong, in the real sense of the term, to russia; that the isotherm which connects russia proper with other regions of the same mean temperature runs considerably north of poland. a buckle would be puzzled by this fact alone. the dwellers could not be of the same race here nor the same system be possible. when, nevertheless, only one power rules here, it does so by violence and in spite of natural laws; it must give rise to resentment and can give no promise of permanence. on my return journey from the heart of russia i purposely suppressed the first impression gained by me in warsaw, but when i was there again this impression reasserted itself even more strongly. warsaw is no more russia than lemberg or dresden, in spite of the overpowering russian churches, in spite of the innumerable russian officers and soldiers, in spite of the obligatory russian signs on the stores, which, with some experience, may be deciphered as "chajim berlinerblau," or something similar. aside from its jargon-speaking jews, warsaw is pre-eminently a catholic city, and its entire civilization is roman catholic. its very situation is striking. approaching it from the vistula, one may see where the city had built its defences--towards the east! thence came the enemy, the mongol, the russian. from the east there came barbarism and oppression, therefore the fortifications and walls were built on the river-bank commanding the valley of the vistula, through which alone an enemy could come. from the west came only the blessings of civilization and religion, with its messengers that once were harbingers of civilization, and which, perhaps, still remain such in this region. warsaw is a beautiful and fashionable city when considered apart from the sections where the jews are crowded together. the members of its elegant society know how to live in spite of national misery and oppression. hotel bristol, the finest hotel in the city, is their rendezvous. here they meet one another at breakfast, at dinner, in the splendid english dining-room; men and women, guests from prussian-poland and galicia, noble families of the partitioned kingdom. they are of one race, one class, one caste; they know one another, like members of the same club, and all approximately the same type--somewhat overslender forms, long, nervous hands, finely sculptured noses, sharply chiselled temples, angular foreheads, the women supple and lissome, each motion accompanied by a touch of polished affectation. when compared with this polish aristocracy, the russian officers, who eat at separate tables, leave the impression, with their german scholar-faces or cossack physiognomies, of provincial backwardness. they are merely bourgeois in uniform even though they be real princes, while the pole who has graduated from that high-school of refinement, the jesuit boarding-school, is an aristocrat, a cavalier, from head to foot. they remain separate like oil and water. the russian, even though he is the master, is of no consequence here. it is only necessary to observe for the space of an hour from some corner of the elegant dining-room of hotel bristol the behavior of the polish society and the complete isolation of the russian officers or officials; it is only necessary to be able to distinguish the groups from one another--the baltic nobility with their almost bourgeois families, merchants from all the principal countries, russian functionaries, and polish society--and it will at once become clear who is at home here, firmly rooted to the soil, so that all others become strangers and intruders; it is the poles and the poles alone. there is some talk of a change of relations that has been attempted with the aid of the french ally through the vatican, so as to array poland against protestant prussia and to reconcile it to orthodox russia. indeed, the russian government has found it necessary to allow religious instructions in secondary schools to be given in the polish mother-tongue, just at the time when the german government had on its hands the wreschen trials. in fact, the more prussian narrowness insults and provokes the poles the greater are the russian efforts to win them over. this, however, is only a political move, an attempt at bribery that the poles let pass because it suits them, though one, perhaps, that the real go-betweens, the jesuits, take in earnest, but the success of which, after all, would be contrary to all known facts of history and civilization, for it would be opposed to the national sentiment. in russia dwells the marrow of the polish nation; in russia dwell the polish aristocracy and that industrial middle class which has become rich and polish in spirit in so far as it was of foreign origin; and yet in this homogeneous land of poland the polish language is interdicted, so to speak, and tolerated everywhere only as a local dialect. university, gymnasiums, courts, and administration are all russian--a gessler hat, placed in the russian sign of every store, on which the latin-polish inscription may appear only in a secondary position--a proceeding to which no self-respecting people will submit, and need not submit, especially from a master whose so-called civilization is of far more recent origin than its own. the german in america becomes americanized voluntarily and irresistibly, because the english language is recognized as a more useful medium than his own, as the world-language. the pole will never become russianized as long as he remains on polish soil; and no matter how significantly the "ausgleichspolen" (polish compromise party) flirt with the russian régime, such an attitude hides a sense of annoyance and is not caused by real fellow-feeling. for the pole, germanization is an ill-fitting garment that only binds; russianization is a thorn in the flesh, producing pus and throwing the entire system into a fever. iii warsaw--_continued_ political reflections force themselves on you in this subjugated but by no means pacified country. it is in vain you tell yourself that the constant factors of climate, soil, race, and religion are of greater importance for the true understanding of a country, city, or people than passing political incidents and systems. you cannot emancipate yourself from politics in poland. this is not a country like german alsace, where, according to moltke, a guard must be kept for fifty years, after which, like the german country it originally was, it will again become and remain german. poland is a country forcibly subjected and conquered, and you feel it when walking the streets and in the fashionable hotel, where the national sorrow is generously moistened with champagne at the tables of the aristocracy even at the early breakfast hour. however, it is not necessary for us to be more passionately patriotic and political than these champagne counts, and we must attempt to secure something of the street scenes without becoming involved too deeply in political problems. whenever i come to a town i ask myself, why was it built here and not elsewhere? with the help of a little imagination one can understand even to-day how warsaw came into existence. it was at the head of a bridge. the word "warsaw" is believed to be derived from the word "warszain" (on the height). so the city lies at a height of about forty metres on the bank of the vistula, fully half a kilometre wide at this place. an elevation of forty metres on the immediate bank of a broad stream offered, at the time of its foundation in the twelfth century, a natural fortification, and the merchants who came up from the sea to sell their wares to the semi-barbarous inhabitants of the plain may have found perhaps on this height a frequent protection from the attacks of the plainsmen. later the fort became a city and culture and luxury made their appearance, offering to the tamed dwellers of the plains and to the landed proprietors from far and near the opportunity to squander the proceeds of their crops. the numerous churches did not fare badly in the days of penitence then. to-day, warsaw is still a fine city of broad streets paved with wooden blocks, with rows of stores on both sides, prominent among which are the richly equipped jewelry establishments. carriage traffic is considerable, even though it cannot compare with that in st. petersburg. just now the main artery of the city, the vistula, is closed. the stream is frozen almost over its entire width and ravens croak on the snowy shoals. but within the city there pass unceasingly modestly neat cabriolets, fashionable cabs, and splendid private turnouts with russian harness and servants. the buildings are of little interest. a few attempts in the russian style, a few polish shadings of quite modern secession architecture strike the foreigner, but the deepest impression is created by the feverish life on the streets and not by its ornamental frame-work. from this should be excepted the pleasure villa lazienki and its quaint park situated at the end of the avenue. even snow and ice cannot banish the spirits that possess one in these gardens. it is a miniature versailles. here is a little castle within which is a picture-gallery of aristocratic beauties, statues, and portraits of king stanislas poniatowski represented mythologically as king solomon entering jerusalem; without are enchanting villas scattered throughout the park, in the centre of which is a little natural theatre built in the open of stone, and arranged like an amphitheatre, the stage separated from the rest by an arena of the wide lake, and constructed of corinthian columns and palisade of bushes. plays were given here in the times when the court and the "beauties" of the picture-gallery enjoyed nature and art together. the moon in the sky was one of the requisites, and fireworks were burned for the relaxation of the high and most high lords. meanwhile the kingdom hastened to its ruin; for a witty, pleasure-loving court and an immoral oligarchy together are beyond the endurance of one people, especially when it is surrounded by covetous neighbors. one hundred years of slavery and three ruthlessly suppressed revolutions are the historical penalty for the pleasures of castle lazienki. there and on the broad election plane the "pole elekcji krolow," in the southern part of the town, where the "schlachtzitz" (lordling) could deposit his "liberum veto" for a couple of rubles or thalers, the kingdom was destroyed, and its resurrection is a pious wish the fulfilment of which even our grandchildren will not live to see. i have no faith in a polish kingdom. there may be a polish revolution to-morrow, perhaps, when the russians shall meet defeat in eastern asia, as the russian patriots hope, but a polish kingdom there will never be. it is quite apparent how the influence of the times is changing the entire social structure of the people. no nation can maintain itself without a middle class, and poland still has no middle class. the material for such a class, the strong jewish population, has been so ground down that a half-century would not be sufficient for its restoration and the russian régime of to-day is disposed to anything rather than to the uplifting and the education of the polish jewry. it is stated that there are in warsaw a quarter of a million jews, a few well-to-do people among them, who have hastened, for the most part, to transform themselves into "poles of the mosaic faith," without disarming thereby the clerical anti-semitism of the polish people, and innumerable beggars or half-beggars, who are designated in western europe as "schnorrer." and of these there are in warsaw an unknown number. it is hard to draw the line between the "schnorrer" and the "luftmensch" (a man without any certain source of income), who has not yet resigned himself to beggary, and yet cannot tell in the morning whence he is to draw his sustenance at noon. these include artisans, sweat-shop workers, agents, and go-betweens, a city proletariat of the very worst kind. i have seen no such shocking misery in the jewish quarters on the moldau as i encountered in the brilliant capital warsaw. the polish jew, everywhere despised and unwelcome, is the wandering poverty-witness of polish mismanagement. a system that succeeds in depraving the sober, pious, and sexually disciplined orthodox jew to the extent observed in a portion of the jewish polish proletariat should be accorded recognition as the most useless system on the face of the earth. in the last analysis it was the polish "schlachtzitz," and the polish clerical going hand-in-hand with him, that constituted the prime cause of all the miseries of the nineteenth century. and yet, to be just, one should compare this cheerless polish-jewish proletariat with its immediate environment--the polish peasants and the common people. here one would still find a plus of virtues on the jewish side. the wretched polish peasant is not more cleanly than the jew. on the contrary, he lives in the same room with his pig, and no ritual requirement compels him to wash his body at least once a week. the jew, under his patched garment, is for the most part comparatively clean, only hopelessly stunted and emaciated. the jew does not drink, while his "master," the pole, has a kindly disposition towards all sorts of spirituous liquors. also, the modesty of the jewish women has yielded but lately to the pressure of endless misery or the temptations of the cities, while of the higher classes of polish and russian society but little of an exemplary character has been told. and finally: "deutsche redlichkeit suchst du in allen winkeln vergebens." goethe's verse applies not only to the italians, for whom it was intended; it applies also to poland and russia, where less faith is attached to statements than is customary with us, and it applies, above all, to the merchant classes of all nations who are wont to make their living by overreaching their neighbors. there is a wide gulf between the development of commercial ethics, as they are understood with us and in england, and the tricks and devices of petty trade no matter of what nation. but the jew in poland and in russia has been and still is being driven, in great measure, into a class of wretched petty traders; and the law of the land forces back into the pale of settlement by drastic regulations him who would escape from its cage and from an occupation of dubious ethics. the jewish section is the "partie hortense" of the beautiful polish capital; the jewish misery is a shameful stain on polish rule and its nemesis. all the five continents must have their misery and toil, and they need a firm, all-embracing humanity to relieve them of this contagious wretchedness, this residue of centuries of depravity. but for poland and russia the humane solution of the jewish question is simply a life-question. iv st. petersburg a hymn of praise to the russian railroad! the russian tracks begin at warsaw to have a considerably broader bed. this for a strategical purpose, to render difficult the invasion by european armies. it is also a benefit to the traveller, for the russian coaches are wider and more comfortable than the european, and the side-passages along the coupé are very convenient for little walks during the journey. a separate heating compartment and buffet, with the indispensable samovar, where one may secure a glass of tea at any time, are situated in the centre of the long car. the trains do not jolt, although they are almost as fast as ours. the smoke and soot do not drive through the tightly closed double windows. a twenty-four hour trip here tires one less than a six-hour trip with us. certainly there is more need of preparation for a comfortable journey in russia than in the west. the distances are immense, a twenty-four hour journey creating no comments. the warsaw-petersburg train was as well filled as the ordinary express-train between frankfort and cologne. the run, which lasts from one morning to the next, is naturally not very entertaining. the broad expanse of snowy plain, relieved only by snow-breaks and frozen swamps, at every two miles a few wretched half-asiatic huts, and occasionally the dark profile of a forest, no more to be seen, and a sea of unintelligible slavic sounds, no more to be heard. the feeling of loneliness grows upon one, and the impression becomes constantly stronger that russia is a world for itself. but there is an end to everything, even to a railroad journey without books, without papers, and without conversation. at the dawn of the clear, wintry day one may already distinguish the signs of a great city. a station with magnificent buildings and a well-cared-for park stretching almost to the tracks claims our attention after the many unimpressive sights of the long road. we decipher the name "gatschina," and understand why there is such a strong police force on the platform. this is the winter palace. scarcely an hour later the gilded cupolas stand out bright above the snow; the brakes are put on; we are in st. petersburg. it cannot be said that the city appears in a favorable light when viewed from the railroad. the not over-elegant two-horse vehicle which takes us and our baggage rattles over miserable pavements, dirty from the melting snow, through broad, endless suburban streets. the houses on either side are of only one story, built mostly of wood, their poverty-stricken appearance being intensified here and there by three-storied barracks. liquor-shops, little second-hand stores, wooden huts, with putrid garbage, follow one another in a variety by no means pleasing. the passers-by, ill-clad, with the inevitable rubber shoes, shuffle along the slushy sidewalks; trucks with two or sometimes three horses, their necks bent under the brightly painted russian "duga" (wooden yoke), a truly gorki atmosphere in its entirety. one can scarcely believe that he is entering one of the most brilliant cities of the continent. the endless rows of stores with their two-storied sheds, which one passes on the way to the centre of the city, but slightly improve one's first impression, for even they are far removed from the splendor of the capital. we finally reach the hotel to which our mail has been addressed. it is an enormous structure, more than two hundred metres long. yet it has no room for us. it is filled to overflowing. it is impossible to crowd in one more soul. we again take our carriage. we drive from one hotel to another, growing constantly more modest in our demands for lodging. but our efforts are vain. everything is occupied to the very gables. we were careless in coming to st. petersburg in january. this is the time of congresses, of business, of carnivals. all the provincial officials are here to render their annual reports to their ministries. naturally, they bring with them their families, who wish to make their important purchases here and to taste of the social season. congresses and conferences are held here not in the summer and vacation months as with us, but shortly before the "butter-week," really a carnival, the pleasure of which one may wish to take this opportunity to test. medical, teachers', and insurance congresses are held here at the same time. foreign merchants come here to complete their transactions. but the great city of st. petersburg is not adapted for foreign guests. the instincts of self-defence awake at the time of need. we do not intend to camp to-night under the bridge arch. we make great efforts and by the evening have secured a room, in spite of the "absolute impossibility," in that large and only comfortable hotel in st. petersburg, which we shared with a friendly mouse, but which was free from other objectionable tenants. even the little mouse was deprived in a base manner of its life and liberty the very next night. once provided with board and lodging, we decided to become acquainted with the better side of st. petersburg. what does a stranger usually do in the evening when he visits a strange city? he goes to some theatre. there are plenty of hotel porters and agents to provide for the wishes of the guests. "hello, agent; get me tickets for the imperial theatre"--where a ballet of tschaikowski's is to be presented to-night by first-class talent. the theatre programme, obligingly provided with a french translation, informs us that among others, kscheschinska will do herself the honor to play the leading rôle. "but, honored sir, that is quite impossible; first, because this is the carnival time; second, because most of the seats are already subscribed for; and third, because kscheschinska dances to-night"--a sly closing of the left eye accompanies the mention of the name--"and neither the emperor nor the court will be absent from the theatre. unless you pay twenty to thirty rubles to a speculator you will hardly get into the theatre." since my passion for the ballet or for kscheschinska does not attain the proportions of a twenty-ruble investment, i find it preferable to devote the evening to the always interesting and fruitful hotel studies. what seething life in the numberless corridors, dining-halls, and vestibules of the fashionable st. petersburg hotel! governors in generals' gold-braided uniforms, covered with so many orders and medals that it makes one curious to find out about all the deeds of heroism for which they were bestowed; chamberlains with refined elegance in their gala dress, hiding the "beau restes" of the one-sided adonis; tall, agile, dark-eyed circassians with the indispensable cartridge-pouch on the breast region of their long coats, with the dagger hanging in its massive gold sheath from the tightly drawn belt; cossacks with fur caps a foot high, made of white or black angora skins, placed on their bristly heads; a nimble chinese man, or maid, servant, with long pigtail, whose sex it is impossible to distinguish; a whole troop of dark-eyed khivanese squatting on their prayer-rugs before the apartment of their khan, passing the nargile from hand to hand, and exchanging witticisms about the passing europeans; beardless tatar waiters shuffling by in their flat-soled shoes--a mixture of europe and asia such as may hardly be seen at once in any other part of the world. the west european merchants and other travellers, who throng the hotel, are scarcely noted among the exotic appearances. in this hotel, as elsewhere throughout st. petersburg, the european, the civilian, is seemingly merely tolerated. the city belongs to the functionaries, soldiers, officials, and chamberlains, to the cossacks, circassians, and, above all others, to the police. more intimate acquaintance reveals that a goodly portion of the uniformed persons in st. petersburg are ordinary students, technologists, professors, etc., and that these uniformed persons do not equally represent the state. on the contrary, the fight of the state, or, to be more precise, of the police, against the free professions, would not be so bitter if the members of the latter were not entitled to wear uniforms. as it is, they also may appear to the common people as representatives of the czar's authority. we slept through the night. kind fate had decreed for us snow and cold in succession to the disagreeable thaw, and we availed ourselves of the clear weather to become acquainted with the bright side of st. petersburg. and, first of all, the snow! it changes the entire appearance of the city as if by a magic wand. the narrow, open carriages where two persons can accommodate themselves only with difficulty, especially when wrapped in fur coats, have disappeared. their places have been taken by small, low sleighs without backs. the "izwozchik" (driver) in his blue, plaited tatar fur coat and multicolored sash, with fur-trimmed plush cap on his head, sits almost in the passenger's lap. yet there is compensation for the meagre dimensions of the sleigh. the small, rugged horses speed along like arrows through the straight streets, hastened on by the caressing words or the exclamations of the bearded driver. horse, driver, and sleigh are very essential figures in the st. petersburg street scenes. we at home cannot at all realize how much driving is done in st. petersburg. the distances are enormous; streets five or six kilometres long are not unusual. there are almost no streetcar lines, thanks to the selfishness of the town representatives, composed of st. petersburg house-owners, who do not care to see a reduction in rents in the central portion of the town. the average city inhabitant readily parts with the thirty, forty, or fifty kopeks demanded by the "izwozchik," and thus everything is rushed along in an unending race. the "pravo" (right) or "hei beregis!" (look out!), which the drivers bawl to one another or to the pedestrians, resounds through the streets, but they are not very effectual. one must open his eyes more than his ears if he wishes to escape injury in the streets of st. petersburg. the constant racing often results in four or five rows of speeding conveyances attempting to pass one another. the drivers with their bearded, apostle faces, which appear lamblike when they good-naturedly invite you to enter their conveyances, are like wild men when they let loose. their cossack nature then asserts itself. on and always on, and let the poor pedestrian take care of his bones. and however much the little horse may pant and the flakes of foam may fly from its sides, "his excellency," "the count," "his highness" (the izwozchik is extremely generous with his titles), will surely add a few kopeks when the driver has been very smart; and so the little horse must run until the passenger, unaccustomed to such driving, loses his breath. but the russian barbarian conception of wealth and fashion is to have his driver race even when out for a pleasure drive, as if it were a question of life or death. the numberless private turnouts, distinguished by their greater elegance, their splendid horses, harness, liveries, and carriages, have no less speed than the hackney-coachman, but the reverse, at a still greater speed, thanks to the elasticity of their high-stepping arab trotters. and now imagine twenty-five thousand such vehicles simultaneously in racing motion, with here and there a jingling "troika," its two outer horses galloping madly and the middle horse trotting furiously; imagine, at the same time, the bright colors of the four-cornered plush caps on the heads of the stylish drivers, the gay-colored rugs on the "troikas," the blue and green nets on the galloping horses of the private sleighs, the glitter of the gold and silver harness, the scarlet coats of the court coachmen and lackeys, everything rushing along on a crisp winter day, over the glimmering, freshly fallen snow, between the mighty façades of imposing structures, flanked by an almost unbroken chain of tall policeman and gendarmes, and you have the picture of the heart of st. petersburg at the time of social activity. splendor, riches, wildness are all caricatured into magnificence as if calculated to impress and to frighten. woe to him here who is not of the masters! v st. petersburg--_continued_ st. petersburg is an act of violence. i have never received in any city such an impression of the forced and the unnatural as in this colossal prison or fortress of the russia's mighty rule. the neva, around whose islands the city is clustered, is really not a stream. it comes from nowhere and leads nowhere. it is the efflux of the heaven-forsaken ladoga lake, where no one has occasion to search for anything; and it leads into the bay of finland, which is frozen throughout half of the year. no commercial considerations, not even strategical reasons, can justify the establishment of this capital at the mouth of the neva. the fact that st. petersburg has none the less become a city of millions of inhabitants is due entirely to the barbaric energy of its founder, peter the great, an energy which still works in the plastic medium of russian national character. on the bank of the neva stands the equestrian statue of peter, raised on a mighty block of granite, a notable work of the frenchman falconet. the face of the emperor as he ascends the rock is turned to the northwest, where his most dangerous rival, the swedish charles, lived. and just as his whole attitude expresses defiance and self-conscious power, so his city, st. petersburg, is only a monument of the defiance and the iron will of its founder. the historians relate that peter intended, by removing his residence to st. petersburg, to facilitate the access of european civilization to the russian people. if this be true, peter utterly failed in his purpose. the old commercial city, riga, would have answered the purpose much better. to be sure, riga did not come into russian possession until eighteen years after the founding of st. petersburg. yet what was there to prevent the despot from abandoning the work that he had begun? but no, st. petersburg was to bid defiance to the contemporary might of sweden, and so forty thousand men had to work for years in the swamps of the neva to build the mighty tyrant's castles, the peter-and-paul fortress, an immense stone block on the banks of the icy stream. malarial fevers carried off most of them; but the russian people supplied more men, for such was the will of the czar. the drinking-water of st. petersburg to-day is still a yellow, filthy fluid, consumption of which is sure to bring on typhoid fever; but the will of peter still works, and st. petersburg remains the capital. peter, with his peculiar blending of political supremacy and democratic fancifulness, built for himself a little house on the fortress island, where the furniture made by himself is still preserved by the side of the miracle-working image of the redeemer which the despot always carried with him. his spirit soars over this city and this land. what he did not entirely trust to his unscrupulous fist he left in honest bigotry to the bones of the holy alexander nevski, which he had brought to his capital soon after its establishment. autocracy and popocracy still reign in the russian empire. the peter-and-paul fortress, in the subterranean vaults of which many of the noblest hearts and heads of russia have found their grave, the isaac cathedral, with its barbarian pomp of gold and precious stones, and the mighty monoliths--these are the symbols of the city of st. petersburg and of its régime. if there is in russia, even among the enlightened minds, something like a fanatical hatred of civilization and of the west, it is due to the manner in which the half-barbarian peter imposed western ideas and civilization on a harmless and good-natured people. what brutal power of will may do in defiance of unfriendly nature has been done on the banks of the neva. indeed, its green waters are now hidden by an ice-crust three feet thick, over which the sleighs run a race with the little cars of the electrical railway. yet even without the restless shimmer of the water the view of the river-bank is still very impressive. the golden glitter of the great cupolas of the isaac cathedral, the long red front of the winter palace, the pale yellow columns of the admiralty, between renaissance structures, stand out from among the rest. palaces and palaces stretch along the stream right up to the field of mars. the gilded spire of the peter-and-paul cathedral pierces the white-blue sky and greets, with its angel balanced on the extreme spire, the equally grotesque high spire of the admiralty. great stone and iron bridges span the broad stream, its opposite shore almost faded in the light mist of the wintry day. walking towards the middle of the bridge, whence a splendid view may be obtained, one sees the long row of buildings on the farther islands standing out of the mist. one row of columns is followed by another--the academy of arts, the academy of sciences, the house of menschikov, which catherine built for her favorite, come into view. towards the west the hulls of vessels stand out from among the docks. still farther out the mist hides the shoals of the neva, together with those of the gulf of finland, in an impenetrable gray. towards the north stretch the endless lanes with their bare branches which lead to the islands. this is the bois de boulogne of st. petersburg, where the gilded youth race in brightly decorated "troikas," and hasten to squander in champagne, at cards, and in gypsy entertainments, the wages of the starved muzhik. it is a magnificent picture of power, of self-conscious riches, the better part of which is furnished by the mighty stream itself. it is easy now to realize that st. petersburg was originally planned for a seaport, and that it therefore presents its glittering front to the sea. the railroads which conduct the traffic to-day could no longer penetrate with their stations into the city proper; hence the visitors must first pass through the broad, melancholy suburban girdle which gives one the impression of a giant village. when access to the city was still by boat from the gulf of finland, the landing at the "english quay," with its view of all these colossal structures, golden domes and spires, must have created a powerful impression. nothing less was contemplated by this massing of palaces. the capital and residence city was not intended to facilitate the access of the west but rather to inspire it with awe. the splendor of the city naturally becomes gradually diminished from the banks of the neva towards the vast periphery. the main artery of traffic in st. petersburg, the "nevski prospect," and its continuation, the "bolshaya morskaya," remain stately and impressive to their very end. a peculiar feature of st. petersburg is the numerous canals which begin and end at the neva, and which once served to drain the swampy soil of the city. they are now to be filled, for they do not answer the purpose. nevertheless, they offer meanwhile an opportunity for pretty bridge structures, as, for instance, the one leading over the fontanka, ornamented with the four groups of the horse-tamers by baron klodt. a comparison with the lagoon city, venice, would really be a flattering hyperbole, for one does not get the impression here of being on the sea, as in the case of the "canal-grande." the city rather reminds one of the models that were nearer to its founder, the canal-furrowed cities of holland. still, these canals are a pleasant diversion in the otherwise monotonous pictures of the city streets. should it be mentioned here that st. petersburg has its "millionnaya" (millionaire's street)? it is well known that hither and towards moscow flow the treasures of a country squeezed dry. the great wealth of the one almost presupposes the nameless misery of the other. the indifference with which the shocking famine conditions of entire provinces and the threatening economic collapse of the whole empire are regarded here finds its explanation only in the bearing of these boyar-millionaires, who consider themselves europeans because their valets are shaved in the english fashion. the eye of the stranger who wishes to understand, and not merely to gaze, will rather turn to other phenomena more characteristic than splendid buildings of the country and its people. there is, in the first place, the pope (priest), and then the policeman. the priests and the policemen are the handsomest persons in st. petersburg. although the flowing hair of the bearded priest, reaching to his shoulders, is not to be regarded as a characteristic peculiarity, since every third man in russia displays long hair or profuse locks that would undoubtedly draw to their fortunate possessor in our land the attention of the street boys, still they are carefully chosen human material, tall, graceful men with handsome heads and proud mien. notwithstanding this they are accorded but little reverence even among the bigoted russians, for no matter how often and copiously these may cross themselves before every sacred image, they quite often experience, behind the priest, a sort of salvation which compels them suddenly to empty their mouths in a very demonstrative manner. this may be due to various kinds of superstition, which regard the meeting with a priest as very undesirable, but it finds its explanation also in the not always exemplary life of this servant of the lord. he is especially accredited with a decided predilection for various distilled liquors that at times exert a doubtful influence on a man's behavior. one may see in st. petersburg men wrapped in costly sable furs make the acquaintance of the street pavements, especially during the "butter-week," yet for spiritual garments the gutter is even less a place of legitimate rest, and, at any rate, it is difficult to acknowledge as the appointed interpreter of god's will a man whose mouth savors of an entirely different spirit than the "spiritus sanctus." for all this, however, the russian is filled, outwardly at least, and during divine services, with a devotion which, to us, is scarcely comprehensible. with fanatical fervor he kisses in church the hand of the same priest behind whose back he spat at the church door. his body never rests. as with the orthodox jew and the howling dervish, his praying consists in an almost unceasing bowing, and a not at all inconsiderable application of gymnastics. he is perpetually crossing himself. particularly fervent suppliants, of the female gender especially, can hardly satisfy themselves by kissing again and again the stone flags of the floor, the hem of the priest's coat, the sacred images, and the numberless relics. but how effective and mind-ensnaring is the orthodox church service. the glimmer of the innumerable small and large wax candles brought by most of the congregants fills the golden mist of the place with an unearthly light. rubies, emeralds, and diamonds shine from the silver and gold crowns on the sacred images. the gigantic priest in his gold-embroidered vestments lets sound his deep, powerful, bass voice, and wonderful choirs answer him from both sides of the "ikonostas." clouds of incense float through the high nave. the faithful, ranged one after another, intoxicate and carry one another by their devotion--a huge general hypnosis in which education and priestly art are equally concerned. the orthodox cult is not to be compared, at least in my opinion, with that of the roman catholics in the depth and nobility of the music and in the artistic arrangement of the service. but in its archaic monotony, in its use of the coarsest material stimuli, it is perhaps even more suggestive for the eastern masses than is the other for the civilized peoples of the west. the quantity of gold, silver, and precious stones offered up, especially in the isaac cathedral and in the kazan cathedral--fashioned after that of st. peter's in rome--to give the faithful a conception of the just claims of heaven on treasure and reverence, is beyond the belief of europeans. the artistically excellent silver ornaments of the isaac cathedral weigh not less than eleven thousand kilograms. a single copy of the new testament is bound in twenty kilograms of gold. the sacred image made in commemoration of the catastrophe of borki is almost entirely covered with diamonds. these endowments came, for the most part, from members of the imperial house. the union of church and state is more intimate here than elsewhere, and, apparently, even more profitable for the guardians of the altar. among all the sacred relics and trophies of the st. petersburg church, one impresses the foreigner above the others. it is a collection of silver gifts from the french, ranged along the wall of the peter-and-paul cathedral. by the side of the coffins of the russian emperors and empresses, from peter the great to alexander iii., which one cannot pass without a peculiar feeling of historical respect, under innumerable flags and war trophies, there stand, as the greatest triumph that the despotic barbarian state has won from civilized europe, the silver crowns and the shields of honor which félix faure, casimir-périer, the senate, the chamber, and the parisian press presented to the russian ally of france. "you see here the greatest misfortune that has befallen us in this century," said my companion, an orthodox russian of nothing less than radical views. "until then, until this alliance, with all our boastfulness we still felt some shame before europe for our barbarous and shameful rule. but since the most distinguished men and corporations of the most enlightened republic have begun prostrating themselves before us, the knout despotism has received the consecration of europe and has thrown all shame to the winds." "but the french have lent you eight milliards for it," i replied. "a part of which has gone into heaven knows whose pockets; the other supports our police against us, and the remainder was sunk in a worthless railroad, while we, in order to provide the interest, must take the horse from our peasant's plough and the cow from its stable, until even that shall come to an end, for nothing else will be left for the executor." "a jesuit trick," i said. "you owe the alliance to the diplomacy of rampolla." "the sword and the holy-water sprinkler," answered the russian, as he pointed his hand in a circle from the war trophies to the "ikonostas," "they go everywhere hand-in-hand and enslave and plunder the nations." the leaden, snowy skies looked down on us oppressively as with a deep shudder at the prison gratings of the peter-and-paul fortress we hastened back to the city. i heard in my mind the notes of the "marseillaise," and before my eyes there stood the gifts of honor from the french nation brought to the despot of the fortress. they are very near each other, cathedral and prison. in the still of the night the watchman of the french offerings may often hear the groans and the despairing cries of the poor souls who had dreamed of freedom and brotherhood and had paid for their dreams behind the heavy iron bars, deep under the mirror-like surface of the neva, in the dungeons of the peter-and-paul fortress. vi artist and professor--ilya ryepin should some one assert that there is a great artist in a european capital, honored by an entire nation as its very greatest master, yet, nevertheless, not even known by name among the great european public, we should shake our heads unbelievingly, for such a phenomenon is impossible in our age of railroads and printer's-ink. and yet this assertion would be literally true. there is such a great artist living in a city of a million inhabitants, and recognized by millions, yet of his works even art-students outside of russia have seen but one or two. to make this even more incomprehensible, it should be stated that this artist had attained renown in his country not merely a few years ago, but has created masterpiece after masterpiece for more than thirty years; indeed, his first picture at the world's fair in vienna in was generally recognized as startling. nevertheless, the name of the master has long been forgotten on our side of the vistula; it may be because no one found it to his interest to advertise him and thus to create competition for others, but more probably because russia is a separate world and isolates itself from the rest of europe with almost barbaric insolence. there is, however, some advantage for russia in this isolation from the "rotten west." they are not obliged to pass through all the various phases of our so-called art movement, and therefore are not carried from one extreme to the other, but calmly pursue their own quiet way. they also had the good-fortune, while the rest of europe was in a state of conflict over unfruitful theories, to possess really great creative artists, always the best antidote against doctrinarianism. when the one-sided, methodically proletarian naturalism reigned in the west, itself a protest against the shallow idealistic formalism of the preceding decades, russian literature possessed its greatest realistic poets, tolstoï, turgenyev, dostoyevski, who never overlooked the inner process, the true themes of poetical creation, for the sake of outward appearances, and have thereby created that incomparable, physiological realism that we still lack. and because their great realists were poets, great poets and geniuses, they felt no need of a new drawing-room art, which of necessity goes to the other extreme, the romantic, aristocratic, catholic. they had no zola, and therefore they needed no maeterlinck. and it was exactly so with their painting. their great artists did not lose themselves, like manet and his school, in problems purely of light and air without poetical contents; hence to rediscover poetry and to save it for art there was no need for preraphaelites or decadents. the great painter is artist, man, and poet, a phenomenon like leo tolstoï, therefore the few symbolists who believe they must imitate european fashions make no headway against them. imitators can only exist among imitators, by the side of nature's imitators, imitators of raphael's predecessors. a single true artist frightens away all the ghosts of the night, and thus decadence plays an insignificant rôle alongside of tolstoï and ryepin, whether it be the decadent literature of huysmans and maeterlinck, or the decadence of the neoromanticists and of the neoidealists. it is time, however, to speak of the artist himself, an artist of sixty, still in the fulness of power, who, besides wielding the brush, occupies a professor's chair at the st. petersburg academy. i have just called him professor. he is more than that, he is, like leo tolstoï, a revolutionist, the terrible accuser of the two diabolical forces that keep the nation in its course, the church and the despotism of government. but, to the honor of the russian dynasty be it said, this artist, acknowledged to be the greatest of his country, was never "induced" to cast aside the criticism of the prevailing system he made by his painting and to engage in the decorative court art. his so-called nihilist pictures, reproduction of which has been prohibited by the police, are for the most part in the possession of grand-dukes, and, notwithstanding his undisguised opinions, he was intrusted with the painting of the imperial council representing the czar in the midst of his councillors. the czars have always been more liberal than their administrators. nicholas i. prized gogol's "revizor" above all else, and nicholas ii. is the greatest admirer of tolstoï. and so ryepin may paint whatever and however he will. and we shall see that he makes proper use of this opportunity. he is russian, and nothing but russian. at twenty-two he received for his work, "the awakening of jairus's little daughter," an academic prize and a travelling fellowship for a number of years. but before the expiration of the appointed time spent by him in berlin and paris he returned to russia, and produced in his "burlaks" (barge-towers), which attracted great attention at the vienna exposition. the thirty years that have passed since then have detracted nothing from the painting. how far surpassed do manet's "revolutionizing" works already appear to us, and still how indelibly fresh these "barge-towers." that is so. the reason is simple--it is no painting of theory but of nature represented as the individual sees it, the masterly impression of an artist, the most concentrated effect of landscape, light, and action. the purely technical problem is subordinated to the whole, to the unity of action and mood, solved naturally and easily. the problem of the artist to tell us what we cannot forget, to give us something of his soul, his sentiments, his thoughts, is of first importance, just as geniuses of all ages cared less to be thought masters of technique than to win friends, fellow-thinkers, and comrades, to share their joys and feelings. from the purely technical stand-point, where is there a painting that presents in a more masterly manner the glimmer of sunlight on the surface of a broad stream--as in this case--and where, nevertheless, the landscape is treated merely as the background? and again, where is the action of twelve men wearily plodding onward, drawing with rhythmic step the boat against the stream, seized more forcibly, more suggestively than in this plaintive song of the russian people's soul? the youth of barely twenty-four years had at one leap placed himself at the head of all contemporary artists. analogies between him and the artistic career and method of leo tolstoï force themselves on us again and again. tolstoï's _sketches from the caucasus_, _sevastopol_, _cossacks_, are his early works, yet they are the most wonderful that the entire prose of all literature can show. and so it is in this lifelike picture of a twenty-four-year-old youth. had we no other work of his than the "barge-towers," we should yet see in him a great master. it is but necessary to look at the feet of these twelve wretched toilers to realize with wonder the characterization, the full measure of which is given only to genius. how they strain against the ground and almost dig into the rock! how the bodies are bent forward in the broad belt that holds the tow-line! what an old, sad melody is this to which these bare-footed men keep step as they struggle up along the stream? in all his barefoot stories of the ancient sorrow of the steppe children, gorki has not painted with greater insight. a sorrowful picture for all its sunshine, and the more sorrowful because no tendency is made evident. it means seeing, seeing with the eyes and with the heart, and, therefore, it is art. it would be wrong, however, to say that ryepin--in his works as a whole if not in a given instance--has introduced a "tendency" in his choice of solely sorrowful subjects. such is not the case. there is nothing more exuberant, more convulsing than his large painting, "cossacks preparing a humorous reply to a threatening letter of mohammed iii." the answer could not have been very respectful. that may be seen from the sarcastic expression of the intelligent scribe as well as from the effect that his wit has on the martial environment. a be-mustached old fellow in a white lamb-skin cap holds his big belly for laughing; another almost falls over backward, his bald pate quite jumping out of the canvas. one snaps his fingers; another, old and toothless, grins with joy; a third pounds with clinched fist on the almost bare back of his neighbor; another shuts his right eye as if perceiving a doubtful odor; one with a great tooth-gap shouts aloud, while others smile in quiet joy through the smoke of their short pipes. all these are crowded around a primitive wooden table scarcely a metre wide; twenty figures, a natural group, one head hiding another, and with all you have an unobstructed view of the camp lying bright in the sunshine and dust and full of horses and men. the effect of the picture is so overpowering that at the mere recollection of it you can scarcely refrain from joining in the hearty laughter of these sturdy, untutored natures. in the entire range of modern painting there is no other picture so full of the strong joy of living. "the village procession," preserved in the tretyakov gallery in moscow--the finest collection of the master's works--is not gloomy like the mournful song of the "barge-towers," nor exuberant with serf arrogance and vitality like the cossack camp, but a fragment of the colorless russian national life as it really is, a sorrowful human document for the thoughtful observer alone. tattered muzhiks in fur coats are carrying on poles a heavy sacred image, and behind them crowds the village populace with flags and crucifixes. i will not again emphasize how masterfully everything is noted here, from the gold border of the sacred image to the last bit of dusty sunshine on the village street. absolute mastery is self-evident in ryepin's work. we are again attracted in this picture by the great intensity of mood. what harmony there is in it--the mounted gendarme who pitilessly strikes with his knout into the peasant group to make room for the priests and the local officials; the half-idiotic, greasy sexton; the well-fed, bearded priest; the crowd of the abandoned, the crippled, and the maimed, the brutalized peasants, the old women. a long procession of folly, brutality, official darkness, ignorance; a chapter from the might of darkness; the crucifix misused as an aid to the knout, a symbol of the russian régime that could not be held up to scorn more passionately by any demagogue; and yet only a street-scene which would hardly strike the moscow merchant when strolling in the gallery of a sunday, because of its freedom from any "tendency." then comes a work of an entirely different character, a tragedy of shakespearean force, a painting that is red on red. ivan the terrible holds in his arms the son he has just stricken to death with his heavy staff. it is a horrible scene from which one turns because of the almost unbearable misery depicted there, and yet you return to it again and again. so great is the conception, so wonderful the insight, so incomparable the technique. the madman, whom a nation of slaves endures as its master, is at last overtaken by nemesis, and he is truly an object for pity as he crouches on the ground with the body of his dying son in his arms. he would stanch the blood that is streaming from the gaping wound to the red carpet. he kisses the hair where but a moment before his club had struck. the tears flow from his horrified eyes, and their terror is augmented, for at this last and perhaps first caress of the terrible father a happy smile plays on the face of the dying son. he had killed his son! nothing can save him! he the czar of moscow, the master of the kremlin, can do nothing. he draws his son to himself, presses him to his breast, to his lips. what had he done in his anger, that anger so often a source of joy to him when he struck others less near to him and for which he had been lauded by his servile courtiers, since the czar must be stern, a terrible and unrelenting master? shakespeare has nothing more thrilling than this single work, its effect so tragic because the artist has succeeded in awakening our pity for this fiend, pity which is the deliverance from hatred and resentment. the pity that seizes us is identical with the awe of the deepest faith, the feeling of christian forgiveness. we can have no resentment towards this sorrow-crushed old man with the torn, thin, white hair. and we can never quite forget the look in these glassy old eyes from which the bitter tears are gushing, the first that the monster had ever shed. and how the picture is painted, the red of the blood contrasting with the red of the persian rug and the green-red of the tapestry. nothing else is seen on the floor except an overturned chair. the figures of the father, and of the son raising himself for the last time, alone in all the vast space, hold the gaze of the spectator. with this painting hanging in the ruler's palace the death-sentence would never be signed again. still another ghastly picture shows that the artist, like all great masters, is not held back by affectation and feels equal to any emergency. it represents sophia, the sister of peter the great, who from her prison is made to witness the hanging of her faithful "streltzy" (sharp-shooters) before her windows. it was a brotherly mark of consideration shown her by the czar. the resemblance of the princess to her brother is striking; but the expression of pain, anger, and fear on the stony face turned green and yellow is really terrifying. but it is also characteristic of the great master to have chosen just that incident in the life of the great czar. in general it must be said that for a professor in the imperial academy the choice of historical subjects is curious enough. it certainly does not indicate loyalty. i could not if i would discuss in detail the fruits of thirty years of the artist's activity. besides, mere words cannot give an adequate idea of the beauty of his works. but there is one thing that may be accomplished by the description of his most important painting--namely, the refutation of the absurd notion that the artist and his art can become important only when they are entirely indifferent to the joys and sorrows of their fellow-men and concern solely the solution of artistic problems. the doctrine of art for art's sake has no more determined opponents than the great artists of our time, and among them also ryepin in the front rank. he is willing to subscribe to it just as far as every artist must seek to influence only by means of his own peculiar art; yet he rejects the absurdity that it is immaterial for the greatness of the artist whether he depicts the essence of a great, rich, and deep mind or only that of a commonplace mind. according to him only a great man that is a warm-hearted, upright, and courageous man can become a great artist; and he regards it as the first duty of such to share the life of their fellow-men, to honor the man even in the humblest fellow-being, and to strengthen with all their might the call for freedom and humanity as long as it remains unheeded by the powerful. just like tolstoï, he has only a deep contempt for the exalted decadents who, with their exclusive and affected morality, would attack nations fighting for their freedom. like every independent thinker, he is disgusted with the modern epidemic of individualism, and his sympathies belong to the progressive movement derided by the fools of fashion. to be sure, that does not make him greater as artist, for artistic greatness has absolutely nothing to do with party affiliations; neither does it make him less, for his artistic achievements are not at all lessened by his giving us sentiments as well as images. but if a humane, altruistic, cultured man who finds joy in progress stands ethically higher than the exclusive, narrow-minded reactionary or self-sufficient, surfeited decadent, then ryepin is worth more than the idols of snobs. and not as man only; he also stands higher as artist, for he gives expression with at least the same mastery, and, in truth, with an incomparably greater mastery, to the ideals of a more noble, greater, and richer mind. the belief that participation in the struggles and movements of the day affects the artist unfavorably is ridiculed by him; the contrary is true in his case. it has given him an abundance of striking themes as well as the duel and nihilist cycles. i will pass by the duel cycle culminating in the powerfully portrayed suffering of the repenting victor. for us the nihilist cycle is more interesting, more russian. "nihilist" is, by-the-way, an abominable name for those noble young men and women who, staking their lives, go out among the common people to redeem them from their greatest enemies--ignorance and immorality. the real nihilists in russia are those of the government who are not held back even by murder when it is of service to the system, the cynics with the motto, "après nous le déluge"; surely not these noble-hearted dreamers who throw down the gauntlet to the all-powerful holy synod and to the not less powerful holy knout. at the time when the "well-disposed" portion of russian society had turned away in honor from the russian youth because a few fanatics had believed that they could more quickly attain their aims by the propaganda of action than by the fully as dangerous and difficult work among the people, ryepin painted his cycle which explains why among the young people there were a few who resorted to murder. who does not know from the russian novels those meetings of youths who spent half the night at the steaming samovar discussing the liberation of the people and the struggle against despotism, in debates that have no other result than a heavy head and an indefinite desire for self-sacrifice? the cycle begins with such a discussion. men and women students are gathered together, unmistakably russian, all of them, slavic types, the women with short hair, the men mostly bearded and with long hair. in the smoky room, imperfectly lighted by the lamp, they are listening to a fiery young orator. we find this young man again as village teacher in the second picture. he had gone among the people. in one of the following pictures he has already been informed against, and the police search through his books and find forbidden literature. the police spy and informer, who triumphantly brings the package to light, is pictured to his very finger-tips as the gentleman that he is. in still another picture the young martyr is already sitting between gendarmes on his way to siberia; and in the last he returns home old and broken, recognized with difficulty by his family, whom he surprises in the simple room. one may see this cycle in the tretyakov gallery, and copies of it in the possession of a few private individuals, persons in high authority, who are above fear of the police; and one is reminded of the saying so often heard in russia, "we are governed by the scoundrels, and our upright men are languishing in the prisons." the nihilist has the features of dostoyevski who was so broken in siberia that he thanked the czar, on his return, for his well-deserved punishment, and who had become a mystic and a reactionary. in another picture a young nihilist on his way to the scaffold is being offered the consolation of religion by the priest, but he harshly motions him back. all these pictures are homely in their treatment. the poverty of the interior, the inspired faces of the noble dreamers, and the brutal and stupid faces of the authorities speak for themselves clearly enough, and no theatrical effects of composition are necessary to impart the proper mood to the observer. on the contrary, it is just this discretion, the almost uhde-like simplicity that is so effective. yet pobydonostzev and plehve will scarcely thank the artist for these works that for generations will awaken hatred against the system among all better-informed young men. however, their reproduction is prohibited. on the other hand, the drawings which ryepin made for popular russian literature are circulated by hundreds of thousands among the people. it is an undertaking initiated by leo tolstoï with the aid of several philanthropists, for combating bad popular literature. it is under the excellent management of gorbunov in moscow. there are annually placed among the people about two millions of books, ranging in price from one to twenty kopeks. it may be taken for granted that the men who enjoy tolstoï's confidence will not be a party to barbarism. the foremost artists supply the sketches for the title-pages, among them ryepin, the fiery tolstoïan. ryepin's admiration for the great poet of the russian soil is also evident from his numerous pictures of tolstoï. he has painted the saint of yasnaya polyana at least a dozen times--at his working-table; in the park reclining under a tree and reading after his swim; a bare-footed disciple of kneipp; or following the plough, with flowing beard, his powerful hand resting on the plough-handle. all are masterly portraits, and, above all things, they reflect the all-embracing kindness that shines in the blue eyes of the poet--eyes that one can never forget when their kindly light has once shone upon him. public opinion in russia has been particularly engrossed with a recent picture which furnishes much food for reflection. two young people, a student clad in the russian student uniform and a young gentlewoman with hat and muff, step out hand-in-hand from a rock right into the raging sea. what is the meaning of it? the triumphant young faces, the outstretched arms of the student exclude the thought of suicide. it has been suggested that it is an illustration of the russian saying, "to the courageous the sea is only knee-deep." but in that case it would mean, "have courage, young people; do not fear the conflict; for you the sea is only knee-deep." but it could also be interpreted, "madmen, what are you doing? do you not see that this is the terrible, relentless sea into which you would step?" in that case it would be a warning intended for the russian youth, revolutionary throughout, who would dare anything. this much is certain: the greatest russian painter, and one of the greatest of contemporary painters, is on the side of these young people, and his heart is with them even though he may doubt, as many another, the success of the heroic self-sacrifice. the noble ideals of youth cannot conquer this sea of ignorance and slave-misery. great and immeasurable as is the russian nation, nothing can help the country. it must and will collapse within itself, and then will come the hour of release for all, whether noble or poor, to whom the ryepins and the leo tolstoïs have dedicated their incomparably great works. perhaps this hour is nearer than is suspected. russian soil is already groaning under the march storms which precede every spring. vii the hermitage the curious conception of tolstoï's as to the severing and injurious influence of art that does not strive directly to make people more noble, can perhaps be understood only when the collections in the st. petersburg hermitage and alexander museum are examined. striking proof will there be found that the enjoyment of art--nay, the understanding of it--need not necessarily go hand-in-hand with humane and moral sentiments. antiquity and the renaissance prove that, under certain conditions, inhumanity and scandalous immorality can harmonize very well with the understanding of art, or with, at least, a great readiness to make sacrifices for the sake of it. the inference that the greater refinement of the taste for art is the cause of moral degeneration is not far from the truth. it is quite conceivable from the stand-point of an essentially revolutionary philosophy, framed for the struggle against the demoralizing, violent government of st. petersburg, since everything that is apparently entitled to respect in this st. petersburg is unveiled and damned in its nothingness. thus it is with science--that is to say, a university that does not begin its work by denouncing a despotism only seemingly favorable to civilization; so it is with a fancy for art, which possibly may convince czars and their servants that they also have contributed their mite towards the welfare of mankind. the stranger who does not see things with the eyes of the passionate philanthropist and patriot, and who when gazing at the master-works of art, does not necessarily think of the depravity of the gatherers of these works, is surely permitted to disregard the association of ideas between art and morality, and to give himself over unconstrainedly to the enjoyment of collections that can hold their own with the best museums of the world. to be sure, catherine ii. was not an exemplary empress or woman, yet by her purchases for the hermitage she rendered a real service to her country, a service that will ultimately plead for her at the judgment-seat of the world's history. alexander iii. and his house were misfortunes for his country, but the museum that bears his name will keep alive his memory and will cast light of forgiveness on a soul enshrouded in darkness. besides, it has nowhere been shown that without the diversion of expensive tastes for art, slovenly empresses would have been less slovenly or dull despots less violent. but in the hermitage one may forget for a couple of hours that he is in the capital of the most unfortunate and the most wretchedly governed of all countries. on the whole, it is impossible to give in a mere description an adequate conception of the great mass of masterpieces here gathered together. i shall attempt, in the following, to seize only a few meagre rays of the brightest solitaires. borne by the one-story high--entirely too high--naked atlas of polished black granite, there rises the side roof of the hermitage over a terrace of the "millionnaya" (millionaires' street). we enter the dark, high entrance-hall, from which a high marble staircase, between polished walls, leads to a pillared hall, already seen from below. the attendants, in scarlet uniforms, jokingly known at the court as "lobsters," officiously relieve us of our fur coats, and we hasten into the long ground floor, where await us the world-famous antiquities from kertch, in the crimea. unfortunately, there awaits us also a sad disappointment. the high walls are so dark, even in the middle of the gray winter day, that the beauty of the many charming miniatures must be surmised rather than felt. we could see scarcely anything of the great collection of vases. we breathe with relief when we at last enter a hall that has light and air, now richly rewarded for our tantalus-like sufferings in the preceding rooms. here glitter the gold laurel and acorn crowns that once adorned proud greek foreheads; there sparkles the gold-braided border with which the greek woman trimmed her garments, representing in miniature relief lions' and rams' heads. the gold bracelets and necklaces, ear-rings and brooches tell us that there is nothing new under the sun. before the birth of christ there were worn in chersonesus the same patterns that are now designed anew by diligent artistic craftsmen--nay, even vases and tumblers, the creations of the most modern individualities, had already lain buried under the rubbish of thousands of years. our attention is drawn to a vase in a separate case, which gives an excellent representation of the progress of a bride's toilet from the bath to its finishing touches ready for the bridegroom's reception. who knows what scene of domestic happiness was involved in the presentation of this gift thousands of years ago! sensations which one experiences only in the streets and houses of pompeii are renewed here while looking at the glass cases with their collections of ornaments and of articles of utility that tell us of the refined pleasures and the exquisite taste of times long gone by. the waves of the black sea played about greek patrician houses where to-day the rugged cossack rides with the knout in his hand. a great hall shows us finally the olympian zeus with the eagles at his feet, also with the soaring nike in his right hand. klinger's "beethoven" reminds us involuntarily of this lofty work without attaining its majesty. a torch-bearer, a mighty caryatid of praxiteles with a truly wonderful draping of the garments, a dionysus of the fourth century, an omphale clad in the attributes of hercules, sarcophagi with masterly reliefs, a divine augustus, portrait busts of satyrs, entitle this collection to rank with that of the vatican, not in numbers, but in the great worth of single works. but our wonder and admiration become greater when we enter the splendid halls of the picture-gallery. we hasten past canova and houdon, however; the graceful figures of the one and the characteristic "voltaire" of the other had attracted us at other times. on to murillo, rembrandt, rubens, titian, to be presented to us in unusual completeness. twenty-two murillos, the finest of them carried away by the french from madrid, wrapped around flag-staffs. i must confess that i had not hitherto fully comprehended murillo's fame, for i am not acquainted with the spanish galleries. it was only in st. petersburg that the full greatness of the master dawned upon me. no description can give an adequate idea of the charm of the virgin mother in the two gray-walled pictures of "the conception" and "the assumption." what distinguishes it from the famous louvre picture is, above all, the childlike expression of the sweet girl's head. a mignon as mary! the dark eyes looking up to heaven with such inspired enthusiasm; the full cheeks delicately tinted; the light garment of the maiden, almost a child, enfolding it chastely; the entire figure, to the blue, loosely fluttering cloak bathed in light; the cupids crowding about the knees and carrying her heavenward; sweet rogues on the cloud wall, a part still in the light radiated by her, and a part already immersed in the deep darkness of space--the whole sublime, as on the first day of creation, no note failing in the spaniard's full glow of color. no less splendid and inspired is "repose during the flight to egypt," where the mother of the lord again awakens the most fervent sensations. she is no longer the half-childlike virgin of the conception and the assumption; she is the mother, tenderly and rapturously gazing at the sleeping child surrounded by a halo of heavenly light. angels crowd forward in naïve curiosity; the saintly joseph looks with emotion on the contented infant; the thick foliage gives to the entire group shade and coolness. even the ass looks comfortable and pious. the color and composition are entirely beyond comparison. a painting brimful of roguishness is "jacob's ladder," where angels ascending and descending, making up the dreams of the sleeper, amuse themselves in most innocent fashion. well known is the charming christ-child in the painting of "st. joseph," and the charming little "john" often fondly painted by him, his arms entwined about his lambkin. hardy peasant types are not wanting; and that the inspiration of the great spaniard may not exceed all bounds, there are a few pictures which, with all their artistic excellence make us realize what a chasm separates us from the passionate catholic murillo. we believe that full artistic justice may be done to the poetry of biblical legend without being obliged to glorify a peter aubry. however, other lands, other customs! of velasquez's work there should be mentioned, in the first place, his paintings of philip iv. and the duke of olivarez, both of striking characterization in their grotesque ugliness--the master will survive even the one-sided and exclusive cult of which he has been made the victim. we will not set our minds against velasquez's or leonardo's "mona lisa" just because they are to be found in all the exercises of enraptured modern goslings. i will not say anything about the "madonna conestabile," the "st. george," and the wonderful "madonna alba" of raphael, for i consider it entirely superfluous to combat the affected underestimates of the master of urbino, which is insisted upon as a matter of party obligation by every imitator of fashion. if herr muther prescribes the botticelli cult for the last years of one century, the rediscovery of the joyous andrea del sarto for the first years of a new century, he will, if we live to see the day, prescribe for the century noonday the return to the master of perfection, raffaelo sanzio, as the inevitable requirement of fashion, and his disciples will add here their solemn amen. but the eternal masters are above the gossip of salons and fashions. sebastiano del piombo is represented here by a most extraordinary "descent from the cross," correggio by the "madonna del latte," leonardo da vinci by the light blonde "madonna litta," which, like all the works of this master, is questioned, but which bears his imprint as much as any of his works. of botticelli there is a very well-preserved "adoration of the magi," similar to the florentine painting. likewise, here in all the minor figures of the kneeling kings and shepherds, and even of the horses, there is a perfection in the mastery of drawing, the madonna archaically overslender, with the thin neck of the primitivists, which, out of respect for sacred tradition, the otherwise bold master did not dare meddle with. naturally, the modern art mockery sees in this defect of botticelli's, accounted for by respect for tradition, his chief superiority, and goes into affected raptures at the sensitive figures of his "primavera," and imitates the studied gestures of those foolish airs which our higher bourgeoisie affect in order to resemble the decadent nobility. but botticelli really deserves a better fate than to be the fashion painter of the snobs. bronzino's picture of a young woman, with quite modern bronze-colored hair and exceptionally small hands, might well be substituted, if fashion chose, for "mona lisa" in the modern feuilletons. a renaissance could easily dedicate a piquant novel to her dreamy, roguish eyes, her soft chin, and her sensual mouth, which would not be contradicted by the rich pearl ornaments in her hair and ears. there is a judith by the highly beloved master giorgione, which is far superior in the majesty of her bearing and the beauty of her head to her sisters of earlier and later times. by the side of this noble and historical figure the other judith, the creation of the wanton and diseased fancy of klimt--the otherwise prominent but misguided master--appears absolutely odious. viii the hermitage--_continued_ a crown of shining jewels is the titian room, with the christ, the cardinal pallavicini, the danaë, the venus, magdalene, and the duchess of urbino. it is a small cabinet, scarcely measuring five square metres, in which is gathered more shining beauty than in many an entire museum. prominent, however, is the fair daughter of parma, forerunner of the "mona vanna," as venus dressed, or rather undressed, naked, in a velvet cloak that kindly fulfils its duty only from the hips downward. the goddess gazes at herself in a mirror held by a cupid, while another chubby little fellow is trying to place a crown on her head. she deserves it, this prize of beauty. there radiates from her eyes, her mouth, her shoulders, arms, and hands a splendor such as even this prince but seldom gave to his creations. the curves of the breast, only half covered by the left hand, the navel, and the hips are as soft as if painted with a caressing brush. the heavy velvet cloak intensifies even the remarkable brightness of the body. the danaë, languidly outstretched on the cushions of her luxurious couch, shuddering under the golden harvest that falls into her lap, is much superior to her rivals in naples and vienna. it is the only original that does not disappoint the expectations created by the widely distributed reproductions, for it also is perfectly preserved. the line of the back from the shoulder to the bent knee of the resting young body is of a unique softness; the transition from the thigh to hip is like velvet in the softness of the body; the feet and toes are of classic beauty. the magdalene again is all feeling. the tears flowing from her eyes, reddened by sorrow, are as real as her contrition; the heavy braids, pressed with the right hand to the full bosom, enable us to understand her sins; but the penitential garment and the desert, where we find her alone with a human skull, compel us to believe in her repentance. the artist's model was, as in the similar work in florence, his daughter lavinia. the school of leonardo da vinci is not as well represented; but mention should be made here of "st. catherine of luini," if only for the sake of the saint herself, that is fashioned after the same model as "st. anne," by leonardo. somewhat better represented is the venetian school with a few tintorettos and paolo veroneses. of the later italians, we find especially of note, "mary in the sewing-school," "st. joseph with the christ-child," and "cleopatra," by guido reni. but the pride of the collection is the rembrandt gallery. the so-called "mother of rembrandt" is somewhat inferior to the incomparable vienna painting. but, on the other hand, there are among the thirty-nine authentic works of the master such gems as the "descent from the cross," with its singular lights and shadows, and "david and absalom," with astonishing boldness of sketching and wonderful softness of coloring. but far beyond the technique we are struck in this picture by the almost tragic power of expression. it is the moment of conciliation between father and son. how the young prince with luxurious hair hides his trembling hand on his father's breast; how the father, who very strangely has the features of the master himself, draws to his breast the newly found son, and breathes to jehovah a prayer for blessing. it is treated with such overpowering mastery as dwells only in the greatest scenes of fatherly passion in all literature and art. the second treatment of the same theme, "the prodigal son," is transplanted from the princely to the common. the returning son is not a prince; the father is not a be-turbaned sultan; but the intensity of the embrace is the same; the same thrill comes to us out of this as out of the brilliant "absalom" picture, the two songs of the forgiving father's love. the counterpart of these two is the painting of the great father's sorrow that seizes the old jacob when his sons bring to him the bloody garment of his beloved joseph. the terror and amazement of the patriarch, distinctly marked in the hands of the sage uplifted as if warding off a blow, are strongly impressed on the mind of the beholder. the famous "sacrifice of isaac" is to me of slighter value than the preceding, notwithstanding all the dramatic force of the moment depicted. it is really too difficult for us to look into the soul of an old fanatic who is ready to slay his own son at the command of god; yet the foreshortening of the recumbent isaac, and the angel sweeping down on him like a tempest, to seize just at the right moment the hand of the old man, are brought out again with really wanton mastery. the so-called danaë is not to every one's taste, its universal fame notwithstanding. bode takes it as sarah, the daughter of raguel, awaiting her betrothed. its meaning might well be a subject of discussion. the old woman who draws back the heavy drapery over the couch, with the honest match-maker's joy on her face and the purse in her hand, indicates a mythological incident and not the legitimate joys of sarah. on the other hand, there is lacking here the indispensable golden shower by which the danaë pictures are really characterized. besides, the profile of the joyously surprised naked dame is not all antique. i take the liberty humbly to suggest that the young woman with the rather mature body is, to judge by the ornaments on her arms and in her hair, as well as by the attributes of her luxurious bed and the unceremoniousness with which she allows the light to play on her naked body through the open portières without making use of the cover lying near by, to be considered a professional beauty, who is receiving with more than open arms some very welcome and generous guest. when once freed from the not exactly pleasing impression which the fidgety impatience produces on the none too pretty face, we cannot but admire the play of light on the nude body. nothing is flattered in this painting, and that makes more striking the indelible impression of the shimmering light in all the depressions and curves of the not especially attractive figure. it would be much beyond the limits of the present sketch to mention even by name the works of the first rank in the rembrandt gallery. suffice it to state that there are among them a so-called sobieski, the portrait of the calligrapher coppenol, almost breathing before one's eyes, the "parable of the workmen in the vineyard," "abraham's entertainment of the angels," a "holy family" of such loveliness as can scarcely be accredited to the forceful realist, the "workshop of joseph," the "incredulity of st. thomas," full of restless movement, a splendid heroic "pallas," portraits of men and women, all of them works of the first rank, gems in the art of all time. to say anything of the master himself is, thank heaven, unnecessary. he has thus far escaped untouched from the constant revolution of values, the propelling force of which is usually unknown to its satellites. of him alone can it be said, that even an approximate conception of the range of his mastery is impossible without familiarity with his paintings in the hermitage. rubens, too, is represented here in all his astonishing versatility. i do not know what value is placed nowadays on this omniscience. yet even the termagant tongue of impotency must become dumb before this splendid collection. mythological and biblical themes, portraits and landscapes, are almost throughout of equal perfection and beauty. his exuberant fancy is nowhere revealed to better advantage than in the fascinating sketches in which the hermitage is so rich. they must be termed veritable orgies of the draughtsman and the colorist, and bear to a certain extent the imprint of perennial genius and happy inspiration, which the painting, often completed by his pupils, cannot quite show. but where the master's own hand has worked it has given life to the imperishable. if a prize were to be awarded to any one of the forty-seven masterpieces it would surely belong to the portrait of helene fourment, on which the artist worked with undivided love. the roguish beauty is painted life-size. she is standing in a flower-bedecked meadow, and in the background heavy clouds pass over the landscape. but they serve only to bring out in greater relief the delicate lace collar around the bare neck of the woman in a low-necked gown. she has on her blond, curly head a black, soft, rembrandt hat, ornamented with feathers, and adorned with a violet-blue ribbon. her heavy, black satin dress with the airy white lace sleeves shows the still youthful, slender figure in a swaying, graceful pose. the delicate hands are crossed over the waist. the right is holding, fanlike and with refined ease, a long, white heron's feather. the dress and ornaments, the ear-rings and the bejewelled brooch and chain, are treated with such care as was seldom shown by the busy master. the main charm of the painting lies, however, in the roguish, spirited face with the large, clever eyes and the smiling little mouth. the neck and bosom show, however, that the name helene is not inappropriate. of the mythological pictures the "drunken silence," variations on which in the munich pinakothek are well enough known to make a more detailed description superfluous, is to my taste the most wonderful. but the st. petersburg original is, if possible, even richer in its coloring, and the grotesque humor of the fine company is altogether irresistible. we also find an excellent variation in "the pert lover's happy moments," the brown shepherd attacking a young woman with the features of helene fourment. the liberation of andromeda by the victorious perseus is a work with all conceivable merits. the dead monster that had guarded the brilliantly beautiful maid lies outstretched with gaping jaws; the white-winged steed that had carried the victor is stamping the ground, but easily held in check by a little cupid. the victor, still in his glittering armor, with the gorgon shield in his left hand approaches the fair maid and softly touches her. another little cupid has removed his helmet so that the emerging fame may place the wreath on his locks. but the youth sees only the glorious beauty at whose draperies three or four little rogues are busily tugging to pull away from the white body even the last vestige of covering. of the splendid composition, "venus and adonis," only the wonderful heads were drawn by the master; the rest was done in his studio, but it is quite respectable. of the religious works, the "descent from the cross" is akin to the famous painting in the dome of antwerp. the large painting, "christ visiting simon the pharisee," was completed with the aid of his pupils. the figures of christ and of magdalene, who is drying the feet of the saviour with her hair, were drawn by the master himself. the head of the penitent is particularly striking. it has something leonine in it, and the fervor with which she seizes the foot and draws it to herself has also something of the passion that may have led to her sin. of van dyck, the cleverest and most prominent of rubens's pupils, who aspired to aristocratic refinement--perhaps only to free himself from the overpowering influence of the robust genius of his teacher, perhaps also because of his inherently more tenacious nature--the hermitage possesses the largest and most valuable collection. the "holy family" is still influenced by rubens, although it is somewhat softer. it is a charming composition, full of peace and cheerfulness. mary is sitting under a shady tree holding the christ-child, who is standing on her lap so that he may bend over to look at the dancing ring of little angels. st. joseph is comfortably seated in the background. the play of the angels is unmistakably conceived after rubens's festoon, and yet possesses great beauty of its own. in its color effects the picture is among the best. the artist is seen in complete self-dependence in the numerous portraits of his english period as well as in the cabinet piece of "the snyder family." the english impress us especially by the expression of self-conscious gentility, aristocratic exclusiveness, peculiar to themselves as well as to the master. we cannot escape the charm of these somewhat decadent faces, just as we would enjoy equally a beethoven sonata and a chopin nocturne. without the exuberant imagination and the universality of his teacher, van dyck possesses, none the less, a personality of his own, shining with a light of its own; he is one of the psychologists among the painters. another psychologist, though not with delicate hands, but sturdy and creative, with exuberant genius, is franz hals, who is represented here by four strikingly lifelike portraits. of him, too, nothing more need be said, though one may add he is a splendid fellow. the dutch miniature painters have here some dainty pieces. of van der helst's we see his renowned "introduction of the bride," a scene from dutch patrician life, with somewhat strongly exaggerated respectability and affluence. the bridegroom's parents, themselves still young, are seated on a garden terrace clad in their holiday attire, and with gloves in their hands; the youngest son, stylishly dressed, with a parrot in his hand, is looking with strained attention towards the bridal couple, who are ceremoniously ascending the terrace; two greyhounds by the side of the parents, a lap-dog by the bride's side, take part in the performance; and loudest of all is the parrot, whom the master is obliged to call to order by an indignant "keep still!" notwithstanding its size (it has a width of more than three metres), the picture is painted with a minuteness of detail, from the frills of the mother to the rustling silk of the bride's dress and the thin foliage of the poplars in the background of the garden, that would do honor to any miniature painter. to be sure, our impressionist creed of the present day does not allow the recognition of such painstaking elegance and neatness in the execution of details. however, doctrines pass away, but, thank heaven, the pictures remain. the numerous domestic genre pictures, terborch's famous "glass of lemonade," jan steen's "drunken woman," held up to derision by her husband, and the "visits of the physician," who is feeling the pulse of a young woman, evidently embarrassed, while the doctor, with a significant smile, is exchanging remarks with an old woman, by metzu, as well as certain physicians' examinations, by gerhard dou, that cannot further be described, are all notable, not only for the execution of the velvet and silk fabrics, of the glasses and the interiors, but even more for the unfailing firmness of characterization in movement and physiognomy. certainly these are great painters, and their works are true cabinet-pieces. composition must always swing between painstaking accuracy and bold impressionism. yet nothing could be more foolish than the contempt for miniaturists in a period of impressionism and the contempt for impressionists in a period of painful detail. "in my father's house are many mansions." what shall we say of the works of ostade, teniers, wouwerman, pottes, and ruysdael? the hermitage not only contains an inexhaustible abundance of their productions, but includes their very best works. potter has a wolf-hound and dairy farm, an animal group of the highest plasticity, and a quite modern transparency of atmosphere. tenier has pieces that show him to have been not only a grotesque humorist but also a great landscape-painter; and of ruysdael there are true pearls like the "sand road" and the "bay lake." rarities, valuable as such not alone to the art-lover, are the "healing of the blind," by lucas van leyden, the "maid under the apple-tree," by lucas cranach, a triumphant madonna, by quentin massys--faithful, honest works which the pious masters laid with devotion on the golden ground. no sensible person will deride them, for they are still governed in their conceptions by the carefully obeyed rules of symmetry. in the _attachement_ there is such depth of characterization, such affection and warmth, that many a masterpiece must be placed much below them. for enthusiasm of conception and conscientious execution are, after all, of deciding moment in every unbiased judgment. but the technique belongs to the time and not to the individual. the french of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries conclude the group. the germans have never succeeded in placing themselves in a true relation to this art that is rhetorical and theatrical rather than really poetical. yet we shall never be wanting in respect to others, especially to the masters poussin and claude lorrain. the landscapes of a heroic-mythological character that represent them in the hermitage are monuments of respectable ability. of real charm, however, are the piquant genre masters fragonard and watteau, who were held in such deep contempt in the virtuous years of the revolution, that no one dared to pay even fifty francs for their frivolous paintings. they are represented by excellent pieces, as well as the more serious master greuze, whose "death of an old man" would do honor even to our good knaus. boucher and lancret justly deserve our attention. but marguerite gerard, the sister-in law of fragonard, and jean b. chardin, have quite inconspicuously realized a goodly portion of the impressionist programme without devoting themselves merely to problems of light and shade. the "mother's happiness" of the former does full justice to the charming scene and easily solves a problem in interiors. the same is true of chardin's "washerwomen." there is positively nothing new under the sun. it is only the one or the other side of the universal knowledge of the great masters acclaimed as an entirely new discovery. then follow actions and reactions, and thus the so-called art history is formed, the rise and fall among a few high peaks and nothing more. one day we found a whole row of rooms closed, just those that contained our favorites of the rembrandt gallery. what was the cause of it? preparations were being made for the czar's dinner. a great court dinner is given every friday in the splendid halls of the hermitage, and suitable preparations are made on the previous day. flowers are placed everywhere, dishes and silver are brought and kept under special watch. the czar's table is placed in the large italian hall; the courtier's tables in the adjoining halls. the conservatories and prominent artists have already petitioned for the abolition of this barbaric custom, for the vapors from the viands do not in any wise contribute to the preservation of the costly paintings. but how are exhortations of warning to reach the czar's ear? they are derided by the servile courtiers, and held up to scorn as professional fancies of but little significance when compared with the wish of princes to dine among the finest works of art in the world. the consciousness that great works of art are merely kept in trust by their passing owners, kept for their true owner, progress-making humanity, has perhaps reached the better class, but has not been awakened in the autocracy, where even the conception of humanity has not yet been attained. they own pictures as they own crown jewels, and consider themselves at liberty to treat them as they please. but on such a matter the subject must remain silent; and he does. it is the environment that influences princes, whether for good or for evil. but the injury to a few paintings, however expensive, is not the worst that rests on the conscience of the ring in the czar's court, just as the hermitage is not the most objectionable feature of st. petersburg. when the russian empire shall have overcome the phase of barbarian mistrust for strangers and of oppressive police management, when it shall have really opened its gates, the hermitage will become a true centre of attraction with few equals in the universe. then will become common property those wonder works that to-day are still beyond the reach of common knowledge. in the russia of to-day a treasury of culture like the hermitage is almost an anachronism. ix the camorra--a talk with a russian prince before i report here a significant conversation i had with a prince, the friend and former confidant of the czar, i would make an earnest appeal to the public opinion of europe, for which these lines are intended. i have conversed with many men of the highest rank in russia; i am indebted to them for most valuable information about the land of riddles, yet not a single interview was concluded without my informant asking me to withhold his name. only the prince whose views i report here said to me, "if you need my name to prove the credibility of the most incredible things i had to tell you, you may use it without compunction. possible suffering that may befall me because of this use of my name is of no consideration where the enlightenment of europe is concerned." on mature deliberation i have preferred, however, not to mention his name here. i thus renounce the weight of a name of european repute and of unparalleled authority. notwithstanding this, i still consider it necessary to ask public opinion of europe to watch with redoubled care the fate of the few persons who have been my informants. it would not be right for me to suppress this report, for i should thus act in direct opposition to the wishes of the noble-minded prince. neither could i disguise him entirely, since there are, after all, but few persons that could have made to me these disclosures on the helplessness of even the eminent patriots. and so i must resort to an appeal to the public opinion of europe with proper caution. it can protect the prince. for with all their wickedness the russian rulers still fear foreign public opinion. this and this alone has a certain influence on the czar. let it be exerted in behalf of a man of the greatest heroism, who makes appeal to it out of pure patriotism. "does your highness think," i asked, in the interview i am about to report here, "that the discontent everywhere noticeable in all classes of society is real and of political significance?" "we must make distinctions," answered the prince; "of its reality there is no doubt. but if you ask whether i consider it politically fruitful, in the same sense that we may gain through this discontent some necessary change in the present régime, i must answer, unfortunately, no." "is this, then, only the chronic discontent present in western europe as well as in russia, or is it now acute?" "it is acute. as you have justly observed, the west has its discontented element also; yet your western discontent with all work of man may best be compared with that frame of mind prevalent in our country, even under a régime that is normal and well-intentioned, lacking only efficiency. the restlessness that you, as a stranger, have noted here is quite abnormal, and is due to the decided wickedness, not to say infamy, of the existing system." "then it is stronger than usual?" "incomparably stronger. no entertainment however harmless, no scientific congress, no meeting of any corporation can take place that will not end in a political demonstration. all the prisons are filled with most worthy people, deportations and banishments increase, yet other men and women press onward to martyrdom." "i admire this spirit of sacrifice in your intelligent classes." "that is the difference between to-day and a few years ago. ten years ago our public opinion was weakened, resigned, crushed by the heavy hand of alexander iii. and the serpent wiles of pobydonostzev. with the accession to the throne of the present czar new hopes were awakened; but now, thanks to the executioners sipyagin and plehve, disappointment and exasperation have grown to such a vast extent that expression of them can no longer be repressed, and thousands risk life and liberty unable longer to bear this condition of grinding inward revolt." "i witnessed the funeral of mikhailovski. i must say that my ear detected revolutionary tones, and such a procession of five or six thousand men and women from among the highest classes, surrounded by cossacks, among a listening police, singing songs, making fiery, freedom-breathing speeches, impressed me of all things as a foreboding of revolution. "arrests in plenty were made among the participants in the funeral celebration. but do not deceive yourself. there is no revolution with us. our country is too thinly populated. let us say that ten, fifty, or one hundred thousand inspired intellectuals would willingly sacrifice themselves if they could help us thereby; how many cossacks and gendarmes would there be for each revolutionist, when we are spending millions to maintain an army against the nation? there is only one revolution that can be really dangerous, and i will not assert that such a revolution could not break out if the present war should end disastrously. that would be a peasant revolution, directed, not against the régime itself, but against all property-owning and educated persons; it would begin by all of us being killed and thrown into the river. and the odds would be a hundred to one then that the police would not be actively against this revolution, but secretly would be for it, in order to rid themselves quickly and surely of their real antagonist, the educated classes. a kishinef may be arranged here at any day, not only against the jews, but against every one with whom the police wish to get even." "then your highness believes that the kishinef massacres were arranged by the police?" "this is not a mere belief; it is a proved fact. their real authors, krushevan and pronin, are the special protégés of plehve; and baron levendahl received a direct order from the higher authorities to refrain from any intervention." "and what was the purpose of it?" "to intimidate the jews, who, by their temperament, bring a little more life to the radical parties, and to create the impression in the higher circles that there is discontent in the country, not against the government, but against the usurious jews." "and is not that true?" "usury with us is carried on by good, orthodox christians much more successfully than by the jews, who are comparatively few in number, and, besides, do not enjoy the protection of the authorities. no; the mob massacres the jews because in the name of the czar they are proclaimed outlaws. it is a kind of annual picnic. the kishinef massacres are condemned by the whole country, not only by the philo-semites--to whom, by-the-way, i do not belong. it has showed to all of us what may be done in our land when an assumed purpose requires it. and for this reason the entire public opinion takes sides with the jews, who were merely intended to serve as scapegoats for the educated and the discontented." "but in what respect is the present régime so essentially different from the preceding ones that such a fermentation could arise? surely the people have not been spoiled by anything better?" "now it is worse than ever before. there is perhaps an explanation for this. czar nicholas is inspired by the best of motives. he is the first of the malcontents. he would give his heart's blood to help his people. the clique knows that, and is, therefore, risking everything on one card, to prevent the czar from drawing nearer to the people or creating institutions that would put an end to bureaucratic omnipotence. the terrors of revolution are painted on the wall, and the daily arrests are intended to prove that it is only the mailed fist of the present government that can curb a popular uprising." "i know from sources near the czar's family that the czar is again finding threatening letters in his coat-pockets, under his pillow, and elsewhere." "this is an old police trick. it was used to frighten alexander iii., and it almost drove him insane. naturally, it is only the police that can carry out such devices, for others could not reach the czar's room. but plehve retains his ascendency through the illusion that his dismissal would mean the way to the scaffold for the czar's family." "has the czar really anything to fear should the police relax its vigilance?" "heaven forbid! the czar is a sort of deity to the people, and the educated classes know only too well that no man is less responsible for existing conditions than he, in whose name these conditions are inflicted upon us. but the czar is made to believe that every attempt to free public opinion from its fetters would lead to popular representation, to a constitution, and finally to the scaffold." "and all that is done by plehve?" "by him alone. his predecessor, sipyagin, was an honest, narrow reactionary, who regarded the state as the private property of the dynasty, something like a great estate with property in souls as well as in inanimate things. the nation has no more right to complain against the impositions of the master than the cattle on the estate to complain about the methods of feeding. plehve is of an entirely different caliber. a political cheat, an intriguer, an unscrupulous cynic, the playing on the key-board of power tickles his blunted nerves. he has as much conscience, sympathy, and humanity as my tiger here. his talent consists of cunning and the art of dealing with men. there is no one with whom he has exchanged three words that he has not lied to. his patriotic overzeal, however, as a non-russian--he naturally overdoes his patriotism--commends him to the 'camarilla,' and so he becomes omnipotent." "you say that plehve is not russian?" "he is partly lettish, partly polish, partly jewish. men like this are always the worst here; they must see that their non-russian names are forgotten." "and what do you mean by 'camarilla'?" "the servile courtiers, the high officials, but above all, the entire system. do not forget that we are being ruled by a camorra of bureaucrats, that have no interest at all in the real welfare of the country, but have their primary interest in the uncurtailed maintenance of their power. if the czar wished to hear, to-day, the truth about the condition and sentiments of the country, he would never succeed, because they do not expose one another in the camorra; for there is only one god--the career with all its chances of legitimate and illegitimate gain." "your highness, i must allow myself an indiscreet question. it is said that you are a friend of the czar. you are surely not the only one. you must have colleagues among the nobility, statesmen, and patriots who cannot be prevented from being heard by the emperor. are you not in a position to break through the iron ring of the bureaucrats, and to tell the czar the truth about the men who possess his confidence?" "i appreciate your question. but what could single individuals do against the abuses of centuries? something is being done in the direction indicated by you. the czar receives, often enough, honest and unreserved statements. but a lasting effect from such occasional impulses is out of the question. moreover, one must know the spirit of the antechamber, the slanders and suspicions, the burden of routine. it would require the power of a hercules to escape from the net of these forces, and the czar is of a timid, modest, kindly nature. and how quickly is every suggestion or initiative paralyzed! and what influences cross one another at such a court! who is strong enough to oppose a grand vizier who works with unscrupulous falsification, and weaves about the sovereign an impenetrable fabric of false dangers by means of documentary calumnies and misstatements?" "and so your highness can see no deliverance?" "only when god in heaven shall decree it, not otherwise. we live between the anarchists in office and the anarchists with dagger and revolver. these are only active forces, the latter as the logical sequence of the former, and more than once their tools as well. all else is inactive, limited to dissipating demonstration. the fountain of public opinion is not tolerated; the organization of a progressive party is prevented; the system anxiously guards the people from any contact with the educated classes. there is no room for sentimentality in repelling every attempt to render the camorra harmless. an unguarded word, a simple denunciation, are sufficient to send honorable and respected men where they lose all desire for criticism. whence, then, can help come? and we need it, for the war places before us entirely new problems, that may be solved only by unshackling intelligence. but now our bankruptcy will become evident to all the world." "and witte! has he no longer any influence?" "none whatever. he is not a convenient and acceptable minister, for he has a statesman's ambition and political ideas. he could, perhaps, inaugurate a new system, but this is not allowed. in this country there rules only the ministry of the interior--that is, the secret police; the other departments are merely figure-heads." "and a constitution would change nothing of this?" "the liberals and radicals believe so, but i do not. i am of a different opinion. 'men and not measures,' is my motto, especially in an autocracy. you know my views on the war. i am convinced that our brave army will win. that will only mean a greater strengthening of the system, till the complete financial and economic, social and moral collapse, or till the first collision with a real power like the united states of america. i see no relief and no salvation, especially since foreign public opinion also forsakes us. we are fawned upon for political or commercial reasons. tell them abroad that we deserve something better than this contemptible, statesman-like reserve and these affected expressions of respect before a régime that we ourselves denounce without exception. we deserve honest sympathy, for no other nation has yet been made to struggle for its civilization against so pitiless an adversary. europe must further distinguish between the russian nation and this adversary. russian society is full of noble impulses; it is generous, warm-hearted, capable of inspiration, and free from odious prejudices. our common oppressor, the danger to the world's peace as well as the author of this unhappy war, i repeat it again, is the camorra of the officials, a thoroughly anarchistic class. i do not know, i must admit, when and how our release will come. i fear that we shall, ere that, pass through sad trials, and even more terrible misery of our flayed and hunger-enfeebled people, before heaven shall take pity on us." i left the noble-minded prince with feelings that are usually awakened in us only by tragedy. x sÄnger's fall the sudden dismissal of the minister of public instruction, the former university professor sänger, led me to discuss it more exhaustively with several high dignitaries who willingly gave me information during my sojourn in st. petersburg. i had the opportunity of conversing with persons exceptionally well-informed, but, for reasons easily conceivable, i am not permitted to mention their names. i report here, from my notes, an interview with a person standing near to the retired minister, and still in active government service, because it seems interesting to me even now. "in the first place," said my informant, "you must not believe that sänger was dismissed. he himself insisted that his resignation, repeatedly offered, be finally accepted. scarcely two days ago the czar asked a general, highly esteemed by him, who came here from warsaw, where sänger had formerly acted as curator of the university, as to his opinion of sänger, and the general answered that he considered sänger a very honest and learned man. 'i have just that opinion of him myself,' said the czar, complainingly, 'but he positively would not remain.'" "why does your excellency believe that sänger had become so tired of his position?" "there are permanent and special reasons. the permanent ones are harder to explain than the special ones. i therefore begin with the more difficult. a minister of public instruction--'lucus a non lucendo'--has here a very difficult post when he is an honest man and really desires to live up to his duties. for what he is really asked to do is, that he do _not_ enlighten the people, that he do _nothing_ for education, that he merely pretend activity. we need no education; we need obedience. that, of course, is not said to the czar, who really believes that he is being served honestly. but in the end it amounts to this, that only one man rules here, the minister of the interior and chief of the secret police, and that all the other ministers must dance to his music. i make exception here, to a certain extent, of the ministers of war and of finance. but if in any case there be a possibility of conflict between any other department and the omnipotent police ministry, that other department must subordinate itself to the rule of the latter. for von plehve stands guard over the security of the empire. you understand that all other considerations are silenced here. the third division (the secret police) and the holy synod are the pillars of our empire. of what importance is here an inoffensive minister of instruction, or culture, as he is called in your country?" "i should be obliged to your excellency for concrete examples." "here they are. there was, for instance, general wannowski, a really competent and influential man. while he was at the head of the department of instruction he could not be so easily turned down at the court as our ordinary university professor. wannowski even effected some reforms in our universities, but finally he, too, found it desirable to retire from the field. do you think it possible for a minister to remain in office when a regulation prepared by him, approved by the czar, and made public, must next day be withdrawn because the minister of the interior states in a special report that this regulation is in opposition to the general government policy and is a danger to the security of the country?" "and has that occurred?" "something of that kind was a secondary cause also of sänger's resignation. as former curator of the university of warsaw, he knew poland well. with the czar's approval, he framed a regulation for instruction in poland that was pedagogically wise and politically conciliating. instantly plehve made objection--for a relief of the tension everywhere prevailing does not suit his system--and secured the withdrawal of the regulation." "but could not sänger defend his measures?" "his position was already weakened. above all, his enemies succeeded in placing him under suspicion as guilty of philo-semitism. you know, or perhaps do not know, that it is also a part of the system here to keep the jews--particularly the jews--from higher education; and this higher education in itself runs contrary to the desire of the dictator-general of the holy synod and to that of the police. a minister of public instruction, particularly when he hails from the learned professions, may easily commit the error of making science readily accessible to all properly qualified. sänger granted some alleviation to the jews, so that the most gifted among them, especially when their academy professor had already taken a warm interest in them, could enter the university without great difficulty. he was reproached with that, and that would have been sufficient to weaken the position of a stronger man." "i am not familiar with the disabilities of jewish students." "a detailed description of these disabilities would carry you too far afield. suffice it to state that we possess a very complicated system, particularly developed in moscow, for the exclusion of jewish children from the schools. the ratio of three to one hundred must, however, be conveniently tolerated. now it happens quite frequently that, no matter how strict the director at admission, on promotion from the lower to the higher class this relation is shifted in favor of the jews, because of their diligence and sobriety in contrast to the characteristics of the sons of the russian officials. then the trouble begins anew. splendidly qualified candidates cannot enter the university, since the prescribed percentage has already been reached. the professors, however, who are not pronounced anti-semites really like these jewish students who have survived this process of selection, for they are really studious. but that again is opposed to the principles of the accepted policy. and whoever is inclined to take sides with the professors rather than with the bulwarks of this general policy may easily find himself in the toils, as it happened, for instance, in sänger's case." "who are these bulwarks of this general policy?" an involuntary glance towards the door, as if to see whether some uninvited listener was not accidentally near--a glance i have frequently seen only in russia--was the first answer. then, even in lower tones than before, he proceeded. "that is still a portion of the legacy of alexander iii., rigidly guarded by the dowager-empress, and particularly by the grand-duke sergius in moscow. when in the russo-turkish war enormous peculations of the military stores were discovered, the heir to the throne, then commander of a corps in the reserve, was persuaded that the jewish contractors had defrauded the army, and the officer of the secret police, zhikharev, exerted himself to prove that two-thirds of all the revolutionaries were jews. that belief remained, just as a great portion of the french still cling to the belief that dreyfus is a traitor because he is used as a scapegoat for the information-mongers of high rank on the general staff. something similar happened here. i really have no desire to defend any jewish contractor; but when there was in our stores lime-dust instead of flour in the sacks, quite other people than the jews pocketed the difference. however, that is another story. grand-duke sergius, of moscow, has among his other passions bigotry and a fanatical hatred of jews. and he is the uncle and brother-in-law of the czar." "then sänger found himself in a rather dubious position mainly as a philo-semite?" "at least as a man of not sufficiently pronounced anti-semitism. but also because he was not really the man to hold his own with the generals and talents of the career-maker von plehve. finally, he was blamed for adverse criticism of the general principles of the government expressed at various conventions." "at what conventions?" "there was lately a convention of public-school teachers that presumed to criticise by speaking the truth about an intimate of plehve's, pronin, of kishinef. i must emphasize here, by-the-way, that there was only an insignificant minority of jews at that convention. then there was a medical congress whose hygienic resolutions hid under a very thin hygienic disguise an arraignment of the system of stupefying the populace. the lord knows sänger had surely no premonition of these occurrences. but they concerned his department; the spirit of his staff was not right, and he alone was to blame for it, especially since von plehve knew very well what sänger thought of him." "always plehve, and only plehve!" "he is our little metternich. a representative man, to quote emerson. the régime cannot be discussed without the mention of his name. here is another little sample of plehve. there is a professor kuzmin-karavayev at the academy of military and international law. he was elected member of the st. petersburg city council, and is a member of the zemstvo of tver, a highly respected, upright man, interested in popular education. but now he has been forbidden any public activity by the following letter of von plehve. plehve wrote to kuropatkin, the minister of war: 'by virtue of the authority vested in me by the emperor on january , , i would simply dismiss professor kuzmin-karavayev as politically inconvenient. but since he is in the government service i ask you to insist that the aforesaid professor renounce all public activity.' this is literally true. you see how the omnipotent plehve treats even a favorite like kuropatkin, to say nothing of a timid, good professor like our sänger! you may rest assured that, with all his upright views, we lost little in his resignation; he was without influence and too weak." "and who will succeed him?" "that is quite immaterial. major-general shilder, superintendent of the cadet corps, has already been offered the position, but he declined it. as long as plehve's spirit and that of his minions is sweeping over the waters nothing will happen save what favors the suppression of public enlightenment and the prevention of revolution. the name is but an empty sound." "your excellency, should i commit an indiscretion by publishing our conversation just as it took place?" "with the necessary precaution of leaving out my name, for i naturally have no inclination to attract the especial anger of our dictator-general. for the rest, i do not believe i have told you anything that could not be said in almost the same words by any one at all familiar with conditions as they are." "that, your excellency, i must confirm. one of the greatest riddles for me is the formation of a public opinion in st. petersburg, where the papers dare not even hint of what is spoken in the circles of the intelligent classes." "russia also has its constitution," said he, rising, and smiling significantly. "that constitution consists of the dissensions among the ministers. and when among ourselves, a certain discretion assumed, we do not stand on ceremony. here you have the sources of public opinion"--again the significant smile--"you will perhaps understand why no minister fares well." "hence also plehve?" (a motion of despairing defence.) "he? no! speaking seriously. it is the curse of our country. may the lord save us!" xi the people's palace of st. petersburg (narodni dom) in potemkin's fatherland the art of government consists principally in hiding the truth not only from the people, but also from the czar, who must be made to believe that he really strives for the welfare of the people, and not only for that of the all-powerful bureaucracy. potemkin's art, as is well known, consisted in deceitfully showing to his beloved empress, in a long journey, prosperous peasant farms, where in reality wretchedness and misery had established their permanent home. what the all-powerful favorite had accomplished by means of pasteboard and bushes, costs the modern potemkins somewhat more comfort; but like their predecessor, they are in a position to supply it from the richly filled imperial treasury. the "narodni dom," the people's institute on the st. petersburg fortress, is utilized to persuade the philanthropic nicholas that in his paternally governed empire more ample provision is made for the common people and their welfare than in the heartless, civilized western countries. to the eye of a well-meaning ruler or of a well-disposed globe-trotter this is really a pleasant sight. framed in alleys of tall trees, there rises in the park a far-stretching stone structure, of st. petersburg dimensions, surmounted by a great cupola. on the payment of ten kopeks at the entrance we walk into the well-heated central portion under the dome, brightly illuminated by arc-lamps. furs and overshoes are removed. and now an exclamation of admiration escapes our lips. a well-dressed crowd strolls naturally, without crowding and elbowing, towards a platform rising at the farther end, on which, to judge at a distance, neapolitan folk-singers are performing. we join the procession, and when scarcely in the middle of the immense hall supported by iron girders, there resound behind us thundering notes that cause us to look upward. an orchestra stationed on a one-story-high cross-gallery has begun a russian popular song. the singers before us stop for a while. the crowd moves forward. a negro dandy with high, white standing collar and patent-leather boots, proudly leads by the arm a voluptuous blonde of the orpheum type. he grimly shows his teeth and fists to the scoffers who make fun of the unequal pair; but this does not end in a race conflict, for it is not yet certain whether a negro boy is more in sympathy with the japanese or the russians. we finally reach the interesting side of the hall, and there opens before us a still more enchanting picture. behind long buffet-tables, kept scrupulously clean, and laden with all the delicacies of russian cookery, from caviar sandwiches to the splendid mayonnaise of salmon, there bustle neat waitresses in white caps and broad, white aprons. the prices are maintained low throughout. the same is true of the warm dishes, the preparation of which we could watch in the large, open kitchen. spirituous liquors are not sold, but in their place kvass, and tea from the immense copper samovar blinking in the kitchen. the glasses are continually washed by sparkling water on an automatically turning high stand. the bright nickel, the reddish shimmer of the copper, the bluish white tiles of the floor and walls, the snow-white garments of the cooks, the white light of the arc-lamps could induce a dutchman to produce a very effective painting of neatness. we allow ourselves to be crowded forward, and after a fruitful pilgrimage, pass the folk-singers, where a part of the crowd is gathered, back towards the central hall, which we now observe at our leisure. we are struck here, in the first place, by the colossal portraits of the emperor and empress. they are the hosts here; for the millions for the imposing structure came from the emperor's private purse. then there is an immense map of the russian empire for stimulating patriotic sentiments. but there await us still other pleasures. the entire left wing of the building is occupied by an enormous popular theatre. to-night tschaikowski's "maid of orleans" is being played. we purchase tickets at the popular price of one ruble per seat, whereby we secure a place at about the middle of the extensive parterre, and are enabled to look over the public in front and at back of us; and this is not less interesting than the play on the stage. the seats in the rows ahead of us cost up to two rubles; in the rows at the back of us up to sixty kopeks. on either side are galleries and standing room that cost "only" from thirty to seventy kopeks. in comparison with the prices in the other st. petersburg theatres those of the "narodni dom" must be considered decidedly popular, even though it is a peculiar class of people that can spare thirty kopeks to two rubles for an evening at the theatre, quite aside from the incidental expenses of an evening drive, of admission, and of wardrobe. but of that later. we follow the play. the performance is decidedly respectable, from the leader to the chorus. the setting is quite brilliant, and true to style, the orchestra well trained, with some very excellent performers among the soloists. we forget, for the time being, that we are in russia, notwithstanding the russian language and the russian music. it is schiller's heroic composition which has inspired the composer. dunoi's lahire, lionel, raymond, bertram, agnes sorel, charles, the cardinal appear before us in familiar scenes, and we experience at times quite peculiar sensations when we again come across this northern night, the images, the glowing rhetoric of which in the dear tongue of our own poet had given us the first intoxication of patriotic enthusiasm. the passionately warm music of tschaikowski, and the swing of his choruses intensify the effect of those reminiscences. but let us return to russian reality. a thin, black-bearded young man paces busily through the rows during one of the entr'actes. he exchanges remarks here and there with the officers and officials, whom he leaves with a smile. and in the second entr'acte it becomes evident what preparations had been made here. war had just been declared; the password had just been given out to arouse patriotic enthusiasm, or, at least, to make the attempt. already in one or another of the theatres the public had thunderingly called for the national hymn. what is proper in the imperial theatre must be acceptable in the popular theatre. the curtain had fallen after the second act, when suddenly, from one of the boxlike recesses on the left gallery was heard the call "hymn! hymn!" everybody looked curiously up. there were there a few uniformed young men, as we found later, student-members of that patriotic secret association organized under the patronage of the reactionaries--a stroke of suvorin--to watch the progressive students. the orchestra replied to the call with remarkable alacrity, and the public rose dutifully smiling and stood to the beautiful hymn. but new shouts were heard. the choir must join in. the curtain rose obediently, and the entire cast of "the maid of orleans," charles, agnes, jean d'arc, and lionel, burgundy and england; the people and knights were already properly grouped and joined in the hymn with the orchestra accompaniment. the public again arose politely and listened standing. the demonstration was not yet at an end. it was reported that the hymn was sung three times in the other theatres, hence that should occur also here. and the public patiently rises for the third time, and lets the song float over it. the thin, black-bearded young man, however, rubs his hands with which he joined in the applause but shortly before, throws a significant glance to his neighbors, and hastens out. i do not know to this day whether he was an entrepreneur of the public resort, or a penny-a-liner who had arranged an interesting piece of local news. thus i came to see the birth of one of those patriotic demonstrations of which the papers were full in the following days. the impression was anything but striking. the fine hand of the police could be detected in the arrangement as well as in the audience. it was a forced demonstration that no one could avoid. i remember from my boyhood the explosive enthusiasm after the outbreak of the franco-prussian war, and the evening after the battle of sedan. in man's estate i was a non-participating observer of patriotic demonstrations in hungary; my heart beat fast at home as well as in hungary under the stress of sympathy. that was a real storm of feeling. here--wet straw that would not burn. worse. an obedient participation--woe to him who did not participate! and then a sarcastic wink felt as a compensation for the coercion just experienced. the difference was never clearer to me between free citizens and russian subjects, between national sentiment and obedience, as at these patriotic demonstrations under police supervision and inspiration. and now i looked at the public more carefully. where was the "people" among the thousands sitting in the theatre, or eddying up and down the colossal halls? not one hundred, not fifty men or women in the dress of the common people. all of it what is known in st. petersburg as the "gray public," officials, business-men, the class with an income of two or three thousand rubles. i saw high-school instructors, students with their girls, modistes, the good, small bourgeois, that often stand morally and mentally high above the fashionable world; but the people, in our sense of the term, the workingman, the peasant, for whom the popular house was really built, in whose name the czar was made to contribute, and to whom the building is dedicated, these were absent, and had to be absent, because they do not possess the schooling that would enable them at all to enjoy the offerings of the "narodni dom." the court may be persuaded that with such an institution they are marching in the vanguard of civilization, and that something of the future state has been realized with an institution that even the republics of the west do not possess; but the russian patriots who are indeed living for their nation, and who would free it from the fetters of ignorance and superstition, only shake their heads sadly at this potemkinism. sand for the eyes of the philanthropic czar, another winter resort for the st. petersburg middle class; for the people neither "panem" nor "circenses," but for the paid eulogists a theme at which enthusiasm may be kindled--that is the "narodni dom," the pride of st. petersburg. in zurich, in frankfort, in any place with real popular education, this "narodni dom" would be an ideal people's house, adapted to inspire sentiment of citizenship and patriotism, and to elevate the general culture level. in st. petersburg it only shows the good intentions of the czar and his consort, and the fundamental corruption of the régime. a sober, enlightened, culture-loving people would not submit to the autocracy of bureaucratic dictation shown above. it makes ideal "people's houses," but takes care that as far as possible, this house be kept free from the people. xii russia's financial future i had a long and exhaustive conversation about the material welfare of the russian people with a statesman to whose identity i am not at liberty to furnish even the slightest clew, if i am faithfully to carry out my promise to guard against his recognition as my informant. they were several hours of searching criticism, such as i had never listened to, from a man who through long years had himself been active in a prominent position, an outpouring quite permeated by the most hopeless pessimism, and stated with a passion that contrasted oddly with the gray hair and deeply furrowed face of the speaker. my references to him were of such a nature that he felt it safe to allow himself the most uncompromising plainness of statement. but i carried away the impression that it would be sufficient to give the russian statesmen the possibility to speak freely, and there would be left no stone unturned in that wicked structure that is called "the russian government," so great is already the accumulation of bitter anger even among those of whom it would be supposed that they are the real leaders of the state. the autocracy cannot even utilize the forces that are at its disposal. "yes, fate is cruelly upsetting all our calculations with this war," said the statesman, in answer to my question as to the probable effect of the war on the russian economy. "no one even suspects what catastrophe we are facing, thanks to the policy that is just now celebrating its greatest triumph." "is not that a paradox, your excellency?" "no, not at all. the triumph of our policy is the money reserve at our disposal, which enables us to mobilize without borrowing. but only nearsightedness can find therein additional justification of this economic policy, which, on the contrary, receives with its triumph also its death-blow." "may i have a fuller explanation?" "it may be easily given. financial and fiscal considerations have destroyed our economy. you are surprised at this statement. but one must understand this system. the creation of a gold-reserve, the formation of a fiscal balance even at the expense of the internal forces of the nation, are, under certain conditions a necessity. for a backward agrarian state it is necessary, before all else, to join the more advanced countries in fiscal economy and guaranteed values, and if that requires sacrifices, it pays, in the end, in the greater credit facilities, i might say by the greater financial defense of the state." "and your excellency believes that the internal development of the nation was thereby neglected, just as an athlete develops the muscles of his limbs at the expense of his heart muscles?" "certainly; i accept the analogy. we have increased our fighting efficiency, and have paid for it by internal weakening. i repeat that there was no other way, if we ever were to pass from the natural to the money system. this would be the right time to employ the credit thus secured for internal strengthening. but the war has upset our calculations and not only has it consumed our cash reserves, but will also compel us to make new sacrifices. we are in the position of a man who is still out of breath from running, but must begin running anew in order to save his life, and may only too easily get a stroke of apoplexy." "has not the industrial development in the western part of the country strengthened the national finances?" "no; on the contrary, it has involved sacrifices. and we cannot expect salvation from these either. we have a yearly increase of two million souls, and our entire industry does not employ more than two million workmen. our national existence must still depend for a long time on our agriculture, and this, so far from advancing, is becoming poorer from year to year." "on account of the industrial policy?" "no; but you should not forget that this industrial policy has by no means mastered the system. nay, had the spirit whence our industrial policy originated been the ruling spirit, our agriculture would also have been in a better position; for that is the spirit of enlightenment. but now the strength of the soil is decreasing; and the peasant has no manure, nor is he acquainted with any system of cropping under changed conditions of fertility." "and why is nothing done for the uplifting of his economic insight?" "you must ask that of the gentlemen of the almighty police and not of me. i am of the humble opinion that hunger is beneficial neither to the soul nor to the body; but in that department where there is more power than in ours, it is believed that knowledge is under all conditions injurious to the soul. also, that too many people should not come together and take counsel of one another; in the opinion of our government, no good can come of it. we had appointed commissions for the uplifting of the peasantry, for road-construction, for the regulation of questions of credit; but always the results were only conflicts between the provincial corporations, the zemstvos, and the government." "what was the cause of these conflicts?" "the tradition and the guiding principle of the present system, which i can only designate as the principle of gagging. an administration that does not oppress the peasantry is not yet to be thought of. our peasant needs nothing so much as travelling agricultural teachers. but what would be the end of such teaching? to siberia direct. fear of the intelligent classes has already become a mania. intelligence, if it pleases you, is revolution; only no contact with liberal elements. the salvation of our people lies in its isolation." "but that is the régime of a conquered country! are not the rulers themselves russians? how can they be so cruel to their own flesh?" "the police official is no russian. he is quite free from national sentiment; he is only an oppressor, a detective. our ministry of the interior is merely a great detective bureau, a monstrous and costly surveillance institution. when the notorious 'third division' was abolished and subordinated to the ministry of the interior it was considered a step in advance. but it was not the ministry of the interior that absorbed the 'third division,' but the reverse. we no longer have administration, but only surveillance, arrest, deportation. shall i tell you? our commission worked honestly. it consisted of noblemen, high-minded patriots, who took part in working out a project for the improvement of economic conditions. only three hundred copies of the report were printed; it was not meant for general circulation. but the result of the labors undertaken at our instance was the arrest of the outspoken, upright critics. do you consider that an encouragement for patriotic endeavor? our merchants and our zemstvos have opened, in the last six years, one hundred and thirty-six schools without one kopek of state aid, and with a yearly expenditure of four million rubles. the instinct for what is necessary is therefore present. our society should only be let alone and we also might go through the same development, perhaps in a slower measure, which germany has passed through with such momentous success in the last thirty years--from an agricultural state dependent on the weather to a mighty industrial country. but germany is a constitutional state and we are a police state. germany has a middle class; we have none, and the formation of such a class is prevented by every possible means. the commercial schools are subjected to annoying conditions because they are under the jurisdiction of the ministry of finance, where, naturally, a different spirit prevails. the commercial guilds are making enormous material sacrifices, spending annually, besides the four millions for maintenance, five additional millions on buildings, only to retain their autonomy, to keep in their own hands the staffs of instruction and inspection, and to possess a greater elasticity of adaptation to local conditions. this sacrifice is overlooked, and the slightest exhibition of free initiative is jealously suppressed." "your excellency, i find that one cannot discuss the least question of pedagogy or economics in russia without touching high politics." "very true. you may see from that to what a pass we have come. we have been going backward uninterruptedly for the last twenty years. the nobility is losing its estates because it has not learned to manage them, and has not recovered to this very day from the abolition of serfdom. but the land does not fall into the hands of the peasants, who need it, but into those of the merchants. the agricultural proletariat remains unprovided for. the peasant cannot raise the taxes. the soil here gives fourfold returns; in germany eightfold returns. it pays at the same time, this side of the dnieper, ten to fifteen per cent. annually for tenure; in england two to three per cent.; in france and germany four to five per cent.; and on the other side of the dnieper, where long tenures are in vogue, five to six per cent. remember that this is a yearly tenure. it is a premium on soil robbery. sixty rubles for the tenure of one desyatin. the peasant cannot raise that amount, and yet he is compelled at the same time to pay taxes. year after year hunger visits entire governments, for the peasants are utterly impoverished and have not even seed. with an empty stomach and a dark mind the peasant must bear family, communal, and government burdens." "i read something similar two years ago in a book by an englishman." "you mean _the russian conditions_, by lanin, from the _fortnightly review_." "quite right, your excellency. but i considered the description overdrawn. moreover, i cannot conceive how abuses could be so clearly painted as in that book, the statements of which your excellency now confirms, without any prospects of redress." "who is to give redress?" "the czar." "the czar is living behind a wall of china. he has never visited a 'duma' (city council), never a zemstvo (district council), never a village, never an industrial centre. he is kept by the camarilla in constant dread, and is so closely watched that he sees not a finger's-breadth of heaven, much less of earth. he rejoices when an occasional quarrel breaks out among the ministers, for he then has the opportunity to learn here and there a fragment of truth." "and does no one succeed in representing to him conditions as they are?" "i will make a confession to you. not very long ago i myself prepared a paper, not bearing my name--that would have offered certain difficulties--but anonymous, and had it transmitted to the czar by a trustworthy person. for eight days there was great joy at the court. the emperor and the empress were delighted to know where the trouble lay and how it was to be remedied. then the whole matter, as it were, vanished and was forgotten." "then that already is pathological." a shrug of the shoulders was his answer. "above all things there is the great anxiety and fear at the responsibility. there is also a weakness on account of conscientious scruples. the emperor knows nothing thoroughly enough to enable him to overcome the arguments of a skilled sophist, and he is too indulgent to say to one of his counsellors, 'sir, you are a cheat.' he hears in the reports only praise of somebody, never any censure. for he has a great dread of intrigue, and not without good reason. the atmosphere is a fearful one in the vicinity of every autocrat. the czar is pathetically well-meaning, and is modesty itself, but he is not the autocrat for an autocracy, who must be equal to his task." "and what, in your excellency's opinion, should be done to help the country?" "no more than the rest of the world has already accomplished. abolition of the police system, security of personal freedom, abolition of the censorship, discontinuance of the persecution of sectarians, who are our best subjects, and--i say the word quietly--a constitution." "and would the country really be helped thereby?" "unconditionally. with these little concessions to-day any political convulsion could be avoided, and the intelligent class freed from its fetters. no one knows what will be offered ten years from now." "are there prospects of this concession?" "not the slightest. on the contrary, whoever falls under the suspicion of unconditional approval of the present system may be morally destroyed at any time." "what will then be the end?" "that the terror from above will awaken the terror from below, that peasant revolts will break out--even now the police must be augmented in the interior--and assassination will increase." "and is there no possibility of organizing the revolution so that it shall not rage senselessly?" "impossible. our rural nobleman is, to be sure, not a junker; but the strength of the régime consists in the exclusion of any understanding between the land-owners and the peasants because of the social and intellectual chasm between them." "your excellency, i remember a saying of strousberg's, who was a good business man, 'there is nowhere a hole where there once was land.' one learns to doubt that here in russia. there is not one with whom i have spoken who would fail to paint the future of this country in the darkest colors. can there be no change of the fatal policy that is ruining the country?" "not before a great general catastrophe. when we shall be compelled, for the first time, partly to repudiate our debts--and that may happen sooner than we now believe--on that day, being no longer able to pay our old debts with new ones--for we shall no longer be able to conceal our internal bankruptcy from foreign countries and from the emperor--steps will be taken, perhaps, towards a general convention. no sooner." "is there no mistake possible here?" "martin luther hesitated as long as he had not seen the pope, no longer after that. whoever, like myself, has known the state kitchen for the last twenty-five years, doubts no longer. the autocracy is not equal to the problems of a modern great power, and it would be against all historical precedents to assume that it would voluntarily yield without external pressure to a constitutional form of government." "we must wish, then, for russia's sake, that the catastrophe come as quickly as possible?" "i repeat to you that it is perhaps nearer than we all think or are willing to admit. that is the hope; that is our secret consolation." such was the substance of my long interview with one of the best judges of present-day russia, from which i have omitted only those places and versions which would render their author easily recognizable. for the rest, i must say here that, with slight variations, the statements of all the other competent persons whom i had the opportunity to meet agreed with those of my present informant. the unwritten public opinion of russia is absolutely of the same mind in its judgment of existing conditions; it differs only as to the remedies. "we are near to collapse--an athlete with great muscles and perhaps incurable heart weakness," repeated the statesman at parting. "we still maintain ourselves upright by stimulants, by loans, which, like all stimulants, only help to ruin the system more quickly. with that we are a rich country with all conceivable natural resources, simply ill-governed and prevented from unlocking its resources. but is this the first time that quacks have ruined a hercules that has fallen into their hands? whoever shall free us from these quacks will be our benefactor. we need light and air, and we shall then surprise the world by our abilities and achievements." xiii the russian finances it was shortly after the port arthur naval catastrophe that i sought out a bank director, with whom i had become acquainted, to talk with him upon the financial effects of the war, that had had such noteworthy results on the floors of european exchanges. to my astonishment, i found the comfortable bank director very calm. "the system will still help us out," said he, evasively, to my question whether russia would have to face a financial crisis after the war. "what system?" said i. the bank director adjusted his eye-glasses and, with round eyes, gazed at me for a while. then, with that burst of candor which so often surprises us in the russians, he began: "we are not children, after all, and neither you nor i is dancing to the government music to which others are keeping time. we may, therefore, talk it over calmly. well, we have a great drum, with which there can be no marching out of line. it drums. we have never as yet stopped our payments, like france, austria, or turkey. we are, therefore, punctual payers, hence we shall again secure money." "is this a serious argument?" i asked. "god forbid!" was the answer. "we have paid to secure future credit. but it seems that this policy of honest debtor is wiser than the occasional discontinuance of payment, which allows some advance but involves the loss of credit. we can always repeat to the public that wishes to buy our bonds, 'russia is honest; russia pays; you need have no fear here of shrinkage.' and so the public buys." "but the banker must know that the liberality is not real," i rejoined. "and if he does know it? is it the banker's business to initiate the public into the secret sciences? do not forget that no government pays to the world such commissions for loans as we do. prussia pays one-half per cent., austria one and a half per cent., we pay three per cent.; and, confidentially, it does not end with that, but the issuing banks also get their six per cent., especially when they appear reluctant at first. for what reason should a commission of three to six per cent. be paid where the business is as bad as it is? it was offenheim who said, 'you don't build railroads by moral maxims.' and high finance says that dividends and bonuses are not paid with moral maxims." "according to my perhaps unbusiness-like opinion, this is not much better than stealing." "very unbusiness-like, indeed, my friend. the banking world needs no nietzsche to stand on the other side of good and evil. ethics, like religion, is only for the masses. just calculate what a commission of three to six per cent. means on a loan of five hundred to a thousand million rubles that we shall surely need in this war. let us say only three per cent., officially. that means thirty millions--more than sixty million marks. do you then think that the banks belong to the salvation army, to imagine that they should renounce such a transaction?" "slowly, slowly. you said at first that russia will need in this war about a milliard rubles. that would be contrary to what i have heard from other very reliable sources--namely, that the cash reserve is supposedly equal to about a milliard rubles." "i will bet you that in three months we shall not have left a single kopek of this milliard, assuming that it exists. in agreement with military experts, who, between ourselves, are not at all optimistic, i estimate the duration of this war at twelve to eighteen months at least. with our management, every month costs us at least a hundred million rubles. thus you see that a milliard will not be sufficient." "well, let us say that the banks cannot reject the business, still they must, in the first place, dispose of the securities, which will not be so easy, since the french are thoroughly satiated with the bonds, and, as the fall in the rate of exchange has recently shown, confidence in these bonds is no longer any too great." "they may drop still further," said the banker, smiling. "the fall in the rate of exchange would have been still worse had not our banks received a strict order not to turn over the deposited bonds to their owners during these days of convulsion." "how? i do not understand this. the issue of the deposited securities to their owners is delayed?" "yes, my friend, that is being done. you again do me the honor to forget in my office that we are in russia. even worse things are done here. at the order of the minister of finance, the owners of the bonds who wish to withdraw their deposits are given only a few hundreds or thousands of rubles for the most pressing needs, but they do not get their bonds. this is in order to prevent, by all means, the bonds being thrown on the market and thus increasing the panic." "but that can be done only here. you have no such power abroad." "well, the first alarm did cost a respectable sum. then the foreign bondholders came to the rescue and intervened for their own interest. the price of the bonds was maintained, especially in germany." "why particularly in germany?" "because it fluctuates less in france. there it is in the hands of small investors who do not run to the treasury at the first opportunity. it is not as strongly intrenched in germany, and must be supported there." "very well, then, you support my reasoning, and you say that the bond values are maintained artificially alone. how can you say, then, that they may be augmented at will by new issues?" "i say that, because the buyers are an amorphous mass that crystallizes just as little as a combination of producers is met by a combination of consumers. the masses may be frightened for a while, but in the long run they are irresistibly led to spoliation by the great combinations of capital, and the act of creating current opinion is well known in high financial circles." "you forget the independent press." the banker made a very peculiar grimace. then he said: "that is not nice of you. i am speaking to you as if to a member of the profession--like one augur to another. and when we come to speak of your own profession, you turn out to be a simpleton. how can you speak of an independent press, when under the pressure of the high finance of the russian and german governments?" "you will pardon me. i honor your uprightness equally with that of the greatest of my profession. but i must stop at that. newspapers are still guided by morality. and i am willing to bet anything that among our german papers only a vanishing fraction is susceptible to the arguments of witte and his associates." "and what becomes, then, of the millions that our ministry of finance is spending to secure good will in the papers towards our finances?" "i do not want to suspect any one; but the german papers that i know well are incorruptible." "well, let us say that the radical or socialistic press is inaccessible, and cannot be bought either by our ministry of finance or by the german bank combinations. there still remains the influence of the german government, that has its reasons for not allowing the weakening of russia to too great an extent. for this is still the keystone of the conservative system in europe, and this influence suffices to keep the unfriendly critics of our financial conditions from all the leading german papers. that is not even an official favor. i consider it quite logical for serious papers not to play mean tricks on their foreign office. but as to the other, the extremely radical writings, they have no significance for the financial world; and you will not doubt, at this day, that germany is doing her best to keep us in good humor." "yes, i see with shame and resentment how the german government has been transformed into something akin to a russian police ally, with the blessing of count bülow." "who surely knows what he is doing." "perhaps i myself do not believe that germany has reason to seek russian security, even though there be certain limits even for friendly services; which limits have long been passed, to the detriment of the dignity of the german empire." "i am also willing to believe all that you have told me about the influence of the high finance, the russian noble, and german diplomacy. yet i cannot conceive how the mass of investors--and after all it is they who are to be considered--will permanently pay a much higher price for securities than corresponds to their intrinsic value, as is the case with the russian securities, according to the information given me by russian statesmen." "permanently? some day it will stop. but when? even the autocracy or the social structure will not maintain itself permanently. but meanwhile there is no power on earth to prevent the great banking institutions from earning thirty million rubles or more, when there is a chance. there will be a great bargaining, especially since the french government will exert itself strenuously to prevent future issue of russian bonds; for every new issue depresses the value of former issues, and in these a great portion of the french national wealth is invested. in the end, however, german influence will prevail. germany will advance us the new funds, because germany wishes to render us a service; for germany feels itself from day to day more and more isolated in europe, and we are still not to be despised, either as friends or enemies, in spite of port arthur. hence the german investor must help out; and, after all, he is not making a bad transaction when he buys a four-per-cent. bond at let us say ninety." "how so?" "well, the bank interest is now three per cent. when four rubles are paid on an investment of ninety rubles having a par value of one hundred rubles, then the valuation of russian government securities is not quite seventy. and that may continue for a long time." "do you consider that the real, intrinsic value?" "the stock exchange knows no intrinsic value. it only knows tendencies. one hundred rubles' worth of russian government securities can always be disposed of at seventy, if all the strings do not break." "you are evading me. i asked for your personal opinion on the intrinsic value of the russian bonds." "i will give you an answer. as long as our russian peasant is able to starve and to sell his grain, as long as there are gendarmes to aid the tax-collector, and people who are willing to make further loans to us, so long is the payment of coupons assured. beyond that the foreign bondholder has no right to inquire." "please tell me whether in your opinion there is a hidden deficit in the russian budget, or whether there is none." "i am telling you that as long as there are people who are willing to make further loans to us we shall pay the interest. were our budget a real one, we should not need to contract new debts in order to pay the interest on the old ones." "that is what i wanted to know. and do you consider russia a really insolvent country, that cannot really pay its debts, and cannot bear the burdens of modern national life?" "on the contrary, russia is intrinsically so rich a land in uncovered treasures that it only needs another and a just régime to pay its debts and to assume still further burdens." "and this other régime?" the banker pointed to the east. "our future is being decided there. if it goes hard with us there, it may become better here more quickly than is suspected." "hence, worse for the bankers," said i, jokingly. "people accustom themselves to honesty when there is no other way," answered the banker, also jokingly. "and when universal honesty comes into vogue, it will no longer be a shame to be honest." with this i parted from the banker, whose pleasing cynicism always amused me, the more so since i recognized in him the essence of sterling, honorable views. later interviews with other members of the financial world showed me that my first informant conveyed the generally accepted opinion. isolated germany will, for political reasons, and as a favor to the russian régime, support russian credit; the great german banks will not renounce the splendid loan-issuing business; and the german investor will permit the imposition upon him of the russian bonds. "sheep must be shorn," coolly said one of the brokers to me, when i expressed a doubt that the german imperial government would pay for its political business with the hard-earned pennies of its investors. your bismarck did not hesitate for a moment to throw russian values into the street, and to destroy thereby milliards of german property, when it suited his political convenience. your present government will not be at all embarrassed in sacrificing again milliards of german property to place us under obligation. and, finally, no one is compelled to it. whoever is not able to figure sufficiently to see how wishnegradski prepared the balances to deceive the eye had better keep his money in his stocking and not buy securities. if he does buy them, let him bleed. another explained, however: "the germans will buy our bonds. when no other bait is attractive there is still one left to us. when the landowner sells his crops, and is thinking of investing his proceeds, the banker will say to him, 'how about a little of the russian securities?' 'but those are supposed to be insecure,' answers the good fellow. 'the idea! this is only a jewish trick. probably on account of kishinef.' and the good fellow will hand over his shekels, for he cannot be fooled about kishinef." xiv a funeral "you are here at an opportune moment," said one of my st. petersburg friends, who had rendered me important services in my studies. "mikhailovski died suddenly, and will be buried to-morrow." "mikhailovski?" i was almost ashamed to admit that i was entirely ignorant of the services of this man, and did not understand what interest his funeral could have for me. my friend had pronounced the name as if no tolerably well-educated person in all the wide world could have the least doubt as to its significance. i had to acknowledge again how little we, in the west, know of russian life. i am not of the people who have read least about russia, but mikhailovski's name was as unfamiliar to me as that of julius rodenberg to a chinaman. my friend enlightened me. mikhailovski was the editor of the most widely read russian monthly, _ruskoye bogatstvo_ (russian wealth), a sociologist, and the recognized intellectual leader of radical young russia. nowhere in the world do the weekly and monthly magazines play such a rôle in the intellectual life of a nation as in the great slavic empire. this may be accounted for, on the one hand, by the meagre development of the daily press, existing under strict censorship, and on the other by the high degree of scientific and practical development. the nation is still in a state of nature, and for such a nation there is really but one vocation--that of general education. this need of general culture is in accordance with the general modelling of russian social life. there is very extensive and fruitful social intercourse; visitors on estates remain for weeks. this requires a periodically renewed supply of topics for conversation. and, finally, the nation is in a state of high political tension. parliamentary debates wherein this political tension may be discharged are entirely lacking. thus there remains only the home-bred discussions, which, again, are fed only by the reviews. thus it happens that the weekly and monthly publications serve at once as books, newspapers, and parliaments, and that the greatest writers are enrolled either as contributors or editors on the staffs of the reviews. mikhailovski, however, was jointly with the writer korolenko the editor of the greatest radical monthly; a man who was the object of a reverence such as is only accorded in the west to a great orator or party leader. "plehve is a lucky dog," continued my friend. "the outbreak of the war has forced the entire russian opposition camp into an armistice. it would be considered unpatriotic to create internal difficulties for the government, that needs all its power for an external conflict. it is at least intended to see whether there would be any new provocations on plehve's part before further steps are taken in the organization of the opposition. at any other time an occasion like mikhailovski's funeral would lead to great demonstrations and collisions with the cossacks. now it will only amount to expressions of devotion; and it is quite probable also that the police will avoid a collision. hence, you may take part without danger in a demonstration by intellectual st. petersburg, where, at any other time, you would be exposed at least to a few blows of the knout or a temporary arrest at the police station." "why do you speak of the knout and the cossacks?" i asked. "are not the police sufficient to maintain order?" "they are not sufficient in mass-demonstrations, especially where these are participated in by the student body. formerly use was made of the "dvorniks" (janitors) and butchers' clerks to bring the students to reason. but that is no longer practicable. the "dvorniks" and butchers' clerks have hesitated of late to come out against the students. they have discovered that these persons really take their lives in their hands for the people's sake, and, therefore, are no longer willing to do the jailer's work. and so the cossacks must hold forth; and they know no pity." we therefore agreed to meet in front of the deceased publicist's house. such a russian funeral is a full day's work. it begins early in the forenoon, and it is dark when you return home. in front of mikhailovski's house i saw korolenko--a still robust man, with very curly gray hair and beard--and almost all the master-minds of the intellectual life of st. petersburg. even the recently retired minister, sänger, showed himself. many a man was named to me with great reverence. the foreign public knows not one of them, and so i may forego the repetition of their names. it should be mentioned here, however, that in russia a distinguished man tries to show his distinction by his dress and appearance, as far as possible. here an original way of dressing the hair is one of the marks of distinction, and so one sees many striking heads. there is no getting along without some posing. i noticed, too, that scarcely one of the forty or fifty men i had become acquainted with was absent from the funeral. now, these forty or fifty persons belong to most widely different social and political groups, so that the radical publicist could not have possibly had the same significance for each of them. but every one was present and was noticed. in fact, every new appearance was noted by the crowd. most of them knew one another. the loose but yet effective organization of opposition in russia had never been so clear to me as now. the unwritten public opinion, i had frequently noted, orders every intellectual to take part in this mute demonstration against the régime; and this dictation is more readily submitted to than the legitimate one. i do not believe our newspapers in the west could even approximately replace this intimate contact established day by day among these thousands in a manner mysterious to me. it is as if st. petersburg were fermented by some medium in which every impulse is propagated with furious speed. and people have an incredible amount of time for politics in st. petersburg. people in russia have in general more time than we hurrying westerners can conceive. the coffin was carried from the house, where a religious service had already taken place, to the church across the street, and there a new service was begun. the church was so quickly filled that hundreds had to remain outside. but i was advised by my companion to go to the cemetery; for the funeral proper takes place only there, and it is of importance to secure a good place. we attended to various matters in the city, and reached, after more than a half-hour's ride in the sleigh, the cemetery where rest the city's celebrities. names are again mentioned to me with respect and reverence. what an unsubstantial thing is fame, after all. the few sounds that fill one with awe fall on the unheeding ear of another. another sphere, and nothing remains of the words that are esteemed in the first. we stamp through the snow along the narrow paths between the gravestones towards the spot where the deceased is to find his last resting-place. a densely packed multitude is already pushing towards the newly dug grave. near-by a mausoleum, with open portico, is already entirely occupied by women. we attempt to find a place there. we are met by hostile glances. then one of the ladies approaches me and says something in russian, which, of course, i do not understand. i express my regrets in german and french. she now excuses herself, declaring that she had made a mistake. a word from my companion, and the excitement is at once allayed. "it was nothing," he explained to me. "they did not know whether you were a spy or a foreigner. they know it now, and are no longer uneasy. people know one another in this circle. but you are an entirely new person that must first be classified." evidently my companion played a prominent part in this society without statutes, for a place was made for me with the greatest readiness; so that i found myself among none but celebrities, whose names were mentioned by the young ladies standing near in respectful whispers. they were mostly writers, scholars, and professors; among them was also the author of a work on siberia, which i had read with horror years ago. he had already spent twelve years of his life in exile, and now he was again exposing himself to oppression by the authorities. although the police were still out of sight, it would have hardly been advisable for a spy to appear here. among the thousands of men, women, and girls who were already densely crowded about the grave, there was not a single person that was not acquainted with at least a part of those present. suddenly there was a commotion in the crowd. a name is mentioned and repeated resentfully. suvorin. who is suvorin? the editor of the _novoye vremya_. he was supposedly seen by some one. what impudence! where is he? he shall at once leave the cemetery! but it was only a false alarm. suvorin would not dare to come here; and why not? i inquire about the nature of his paper. is it a _libre parole_ or _intransigeant_? is it nationalistic or clerical? an old gentleman who hears my question replies, turning towards me: "no-ism, scoundrelism." i see how the word is winged and is approvingly repeated in a widening circle. yes, the most widely circulated sheet in russia, which enjoys government patronage and the best and most authentic news from all the departments, is branded here with the deepest contempt by the flower of russian intelligence as a well-poisoner, a worthless cynic. russia is surely a remarkable land, it does not grant a license for baseness even to anti-semitism. the hours follow one another. the snow under our feet had turned to water, and then again to ice, but it is no longer possible to leave one's place. we are ranged shoulder to shoulder, the men scarcely able to make room enough for the women to keep them from being crushed against the trees and gravestones. an elderly woman, with remarkably delicate features, and wrapped in a thin cloak, is standing quite near me. she has been here since ten o'clock this morning--that is, more than four hours. i feel almost ashamed of my fur coat and my felt overshoes when i see that bit of intelligent poverty standing near me. my neighbor and myself succeed, without her noticing it, in placing her between our coats, so that she might feel somewhat warmer. and thus thousands of women and girls are standing, old and young, down to the unsophisticated school-girl, pretty and homely, all of them patient and orderly; and what impressed me especially was the absence of the least trace of flirting between the men and women students. all of them were possessed by one sentiment--by political passion and the yearning for freedom. i am not foolish enough to think that in russia erotic tendencies are eliminated in the intercourse between the youth of the opposite sexes, but nothing of it is noticeable here, and i must assume from this that frivolity and cynicism have no abode in this generation. all those who are standing here run the gantlet of imprisonment and deportation, and frivolous thoughts have no room here. we hear, at last, the indistinct noise that heralds the approach of a great crowd of people. then the noise becomes more differentiated--it changes into song. it is the student body following the coffin with songs of mourning over the miles of road. they sing beautifully, in wonderful polyphonic choirs, do the russians; even envy must follow the song. they have a perfect ear. after the long waiting the final deliverance through its solemn notes affects the heart strangely. and now a new wave of approaching humanity. the impossible becomes possible, the students crowd past us and gather about the grave. the coffin is lifted over our heads and into the noose of the dull gravedigger. a moment of silence. then the pope reads a short prayer and gives a short funeral sermon on the departed brother in christ. then only does the funeral ceremony proper begin. the pope steps aside. a white-haired man, a university professor, whose name passes from mouth to mouth, extols the departed champion of freedom. he is followed by a poet speaking in swinging verse. then a woman. then a student. then a woman again, in irregular, improvised order. then my neighbor, the man from siberia, calls out to the students. then begins a song full of fervor and passion. then a woman speaks again, and after her a young girl. the police, hundreds of them, with many officers, are crowded quite into the background. it is better so. for of all the speeches i distinguished but one word, spoken in passionate tones, "svoboda! svoboda!" (liberty! liberty!). and, as if that word were a signal, it calls forth sighs and weeping and the gnashing of teeth. it is an indescribable drama, a terribly exciting scene. i cannot control myself, and cry out to my neighbor, "make the poor girl keep still," and i point towards the police, but i am not understood. they have all been seized by a religious fanaticism that makes martyrdom bliss. how truly lovable they are, these educated people that still have an ideal and are strange to the base satiety that so sadly deforms our western youth! and how the heart contracts at the thought that all this beautiful enthusiasm must vanish without result; that the longing and inspiration are helplessly shivered against the brutality of the cossacks and gendarmes! we left the consecrated ground in a strange intoxication after a tiring struggle with the densely packed crowd that would move neither forward nor backward. "it is not the business of the police to maintain order, but only to keep people under surveillance." i have been astonished to this very day that no one was trampled to death in the crowd. i heard a few days later that the statistician annenski, an old man of sixty-five, was arrested for having delivered one of those impassioned speeches at the grave. a number of men of irreproachable character, among them the historian who was the first speaker there, testified that annenski was not one of the speakers. i could have testified to that myself, for i stood among the speakers, and each one was named to me. but the police would not give up its victim. annenski was still in confinement when i left russia. now he is banished to reval for four years, because they had found in his house a few numbers of struve's periodical. i, however, carried away with me from mikhailovski's grave the certainty that the coming generation is lost to the reaction. young russia, in so far as it possesses an academic education, is liberal, both the men and the women. and thus that funeral day was for me the most hopeful day that i had lived in russia. xv the chinovnik (the russian official) czar nicholas i. is known to have been a great admirer of gogol's "revizor." yet a more bitter satire on russian officialdom than this realistic comedy does not exist. plenty of utterances of the czars who have followed nicholas are quoted to show that none of the supposedly unlimited monarchs of russia has been in the least hazy as to the qualities of his most trustworthy servants. when, nevertheless, fifty years after the death of nicholas i., the camorra of officials makes more havoc than ever, and obstructs all development of the russian nation with the close meshes of its organization, as with a net of steel wire, this strange phenomenon is to be explained only in two ways. either the czars who so clearly recognized the evil must have been unscrupulous cynics, who only laughed at corruption and had no feeling for the sufferings of their people, or else their power was not sufficient to break that of their servants. the omnipotence of autocracy must have found its limits in the omnipotence of the oligarchy of functionaries. the first of the possible explanations may be set aside without further consideration. the autocrats, without exception, have desired the good of their people, and have been personally upright men and lovers of justice. if they had been strong enough to create a trustworthy and industrious official service, instead of their idle and corrupt one, they would certainly have done so. only the second explanation, then, is possible. the power of the czardom has had to capitulate to that of the oligarchy of officials. this explanation, however, requires a further one. what wrecked the attempts of well-intentioned autocrats at reform? these men did not understand joking; and open opposition to orders of the czar is absolutely unthinkable, when punishments such as exile to siberia are given for much slighter offences. is it possible that the russian nation stands morally so much lower than all others that honest and industrious servants of the state are not to be found at all? that would be hard to believe. for if men are approximately alike in any one particular it is in average morality. the russian is not more immoral or dishonorable than the german or the frenchman. fifty years ago the officials in austria and hungary also were still very corrupt, and frederick william i. was obliged, even in morally strict prussia, to use all his energy in taking steps against the state officials, who acted on the principle of the proverb, "give me the sausage, and i'll quench your thirst" (gibst du mich die wurscht, lösch ich dich den durscht). besides, the experiment of regenerating the official service with foreigners has also been tried in russia, especially by alexander ii. in the imperial library at st. petersburg i came upon a little french pamphlet in which a russian patriot laments in the most passionate terms because czar alexander ii. was surrounded by an impenetrable wall of officials from the baltic provinces, who let no one but their congeners rise on the rounds of the official ladder. the complaints made of the dictatorship of officials were, however, the same, although it was not denied that in industry and honesty the germans from the baltic provinces surpassed the native russians. under alexander iii. unmistakable orthodox opinions and the purest possible russian descent were necessary in order to gain the good-will of the omnipotent pobydonostzev and of the slavophils. the misery, however, remained the same, except that it was in some degree relieved by the greater corruptibility of the native russians. for--to show the utter preposterousness of the whole system--the russian people find it much pleasanter to deal with bribe-taking officials than with honest ones. you may hear it said often enough in russia, "the russian autocracy is alleviated by the ruble; without the ruble life would not be at all endurable." there must, therefore, exist some fatal cause which prevents any improvement of conditions. even evils do not grow old without some necessary reason for their existence. in order to explain this it must be clearly understood what the russians really complain of in their officials. they thought themselves no better off under the system of alexander ii., with the infusion into the service of more honest and industrious elements. hence it appears not to be primarily the dishonesty or idleness of the bureaucracy which provokes the most complaints. this is, indeed, the fact. what drives the russians to despair, and what they feel to be the grossest evil of the country, much more than the domination of the czar alone, is the tyranny of the official caste, which forms a state within the state, and has set up a special code of official morality quite peculiar to itself. as to how far the possibility of such a class development is consistent with the autocracy as such will be inquired into below. a ring of officials is not absolutely excluded even in republics, as is shown by tammany hall in new york. only in constitutional states it rests with the people to put an end to evil once recognized, but in an autocracy it does not. before going further, however, it is necessary to make clear to the foreign reader what is meant in general by such a tyranny. therefore, let us say, for example, that you have been seen on the street with a person who, for some reason, and naturally without knowing it himself, is under police surveillance. of course you yourself are from this moment under suspicion, and therewith delivered up to the official zeal of the whole, widely ramified organization, for the protection of the holy order. from that time forth letters directed to you do not reach you, or else bear a mark showing that by a remarkable accident they were found open in the letter-box and had to be officially sealed. you are surprised some night by the visit of an officer and of a dozen sturdy police officials, who rouse your children from their beds and search through your house from garret to cellar. if there should happen to be found in your possession a german translation of a novel of tolstoï's, or any book or newspaper which stands on the police index, with which you naturally are not acquainted, off you go to prison with the agents of the law. here you remain, well taken care of, pending a thorough-going investigation of the facts of the case. this lasts from three days to six months, as the case may be, according to your popularity or to the influence which your friends are able to bring to bear. it is not the slightest protection for you that you are a well-known householder, a busy physician or lawyer, of whom it might be assumed that even without imprisonment he would not immediately turn his back on the place of his profession. to prevent the danger of collusion, so that you may not hide the traces of your crime, you remain to the end under lock and key, with the invaluable right to maintain yourself meanwhile at your own expense. you will endure this little inconvenience calmly, as becomes a man, hoping that your friends will take care of your wife and children during this time and not let them actually starve. it is certainly unpleasant if your pretty daughter, who is studying history or art or philology, attracts the eye of the sacred "hermandad" and is carried off some night as a political suspect, and you can find by no pleading in what prison she is kept pending investigation. it is still more vexatious for you to know that your young son, a student, is in the hands of the police, since this young man has not yet learned self-control, and may possibly come to blows with his tormentors, who drive him so far that, finally, in order to put an end to his sufferings, he sets himself on fire with his own kerosene lamp and ends his life. i cite here only facts which came to my knowledge from the circle of highly respected families which i met during my stay of barely seven weeks. you yourself are, according to the degree of your offence, expelled for several years from the place of your profession or, at the worst, exiled to archangel or siberia. finally, a crime on your part is not necessary. it is sufficient that you are not found loyal and respectful to the police. these evidently are little unpleasantnesses which do not sweeten life for the citizen or greatly increase his loyal sentiments. they exert, however, a much more injurious effect on those who are in a position to inflict such torments on people who are to any extent in their disfavor. travellers tell of tropical madness which seizes europeans in the torrid zone. since my experiences in russia i am no longer inclined to regard this phenomenon as climatic. there is only one madness, that is the frenzy of domination to which every morally weak person is exposed when his lust for power meets with little or no opposition. this phenomenon is not less well known in our barrack-rooms, where discipline breaks down all opposition, than in prisons. non-commissioned officers, and also many officers and prison officials, are easily seized with this madness, which is nothing but the spirit of the prætorian guard on a small scale. the german abroad, especially the young german noble, is most easily susceptible to it. he even likes to make up to himself a little in the primitive east for the strict provincial training to which he was subjected among the loyal and more moral ideas of his home. hence the preference of alexander ii. for german officials caused no improvement in this respect. in addition to the madness of power, which in itself is bad enough, there is, however, still another thing. the best elements in russia do not select the political or police services. the pay is wretched, and can only be supplemented by illicit revenues. these illicit revenues arise from prompt releases from formalities, for which the interested persons show themselves grateful, and from carrying into effect orders against the jews, who, for this very reason indeed, cannot be better established legally, because if they were a great part of the official service would lose a principal source of revenue from toleration-money. men of the better class turn away as a matter of course from a career which depends upon such revenues. hence it is not exactly the best who serve as executives of the power of the state. in official service there is also another aim--namely, to rise constantly to higher and more lucrative positions. for this there is only one rule, that of maintaining absolute good conduct in the eyes of the higher authorities. the higher authorities, however, consist of chinovniks, who have only one interest, that of the supremacy of their class and the prevention of anything that could injure its omnipotence. so it goes on up to the highest oracle; to the man to whom primarily is intrusted the protection of the czar and of the autocracy; to the minister of the interior. imagine this office held by a man like plehve, and you will understand what spirit rules under the pashas of sleepy villages down to the last provincial hamlet. cæsarian madness, aspiration for higher positions, class interest, all work together to produce entirely conscienceless libertines and barbarians, against whom there is no protection whatever. in a land without a parliament or a free press every complaint has only the effect of a denunciation of the devil to his grandmother. the complainant can by no means reckon the consequences, even if, indeed, the culprit is not especially rewarded for his official zeal. it is much better to stand in with the authorities, not to kick against the pricks, but to pay. and the czar? either he hears nothing of all these things or they are represented to him as indispensable for the preservation of order. if it is hard to make a successful stand even in constitutional states with parliament and press, in the rare enough cases of despotic justice, it is immensely harder where the protection of authority is the highest principle of government, and where no institution whatever exists for the protection of the subject. it should not be at all surprising, then, that the reign of terror from above tries to countermine the terror from below. indeed, it is only a proof of the patience and gentleness of the russian people that attempts upon official criminals are so rare. i was the more ashamed when, during my stay in russia, i read that german statesmen were hurling words of condemnation against russian patriots who, careless of their own lives, had declared war against the brutal officials. however far the desire to preserve a good-neighborly relationship may go, a german politician does not need to ingratiate himself with the russian régime. in doing so he exposes himself to the condemnation which that régime invariably calls forth when people know its administrative methods. german authorities ought not to lend their assistance to a body which a patriot and strong monarchist like prince ukhtomsky, the friend of the czar, called a camorra, a band of anarchists in office. our sympathies ought rather to go out to those who strive to gain for russia also a court where the shackled nation can bring its cry for help to a hearing--a parliament, however modest; a press not subjugated by the tyranny of the police. only by these means can a nation full of good qualities be freed from the reign of terror of the chinovniks, from the camorra of officials. xvi the sufferings of the jews the brutal persecutions of the jews under plehve have involved unspeakable misery; but a beneficial effect also, not to be underestimated. the entire public sentiment of russian society has become friendly to the jews. in numerous conversations with inhabitants of the russian capitals, including people from all strata of society, only once have i heard a word expressing ill-feeling towards the jews. the speaker in this instance was a colonel of cossacks, on his way to the front, who assured me in all sincerity that the english are a "vile jew-nation"! with this exception, all protested against regarding the russians as enemies of the jews. the jews are victims of the murderous russian politics, like the poles, the ruthenians, and the liberals. this appeared to be the generally accepted idea. the natural consequence of this idea is that the jews have the sympathy of all parties opposed to the government. while the officials are bringing deliberately false accusations against the jews, unofficial russia sides with the latter. the situation is similar to that which existed in the west before the emancipation of the jews, when liberal political doctrine was directly inculcating philo-semitism; the only difference being that among the people of russia no anti-semitic feeling whatever exists. therefore, during any crisis of assimilation consequent upon emancipation, there would be little fear of an anti-semitic reaction such as that experienced in the west. there is one class which is pleased by the perpetual hunting-down of the jews by the _novoye vremya_ and its offshoots in anti-semitism. this is the class of small tradesmen, notorious for their dishonesty, who are thankful that they are protected from jewish competition. for the rest, all russia wishes the repeal of the laws enacted in restriction of the jews. the government, of course, endeavors to persuade foreigners that to permit the jews to settle beyond the pale would mean the judaization, and the consequent ruin, of all russia. this assertion is made in spite of their knowledge that the contrary is true. a memorial in regard to the jews, written in by ivan blioch, and published by the ministry of the interior--_the jewish question in russia_--shows by statistics that the greatest percentage of pauper peasants is found in the jewless governments of moscow, tula, orel, and kursk; that the prosperity of the peasantry in the governments within the pale is incomparably higher than in the territory from which the jews are excluded. the arrears of revenue in districts in which there are no jews are three times as great as in the pale. as a result, the land purchased by peasants by means of the peasants' banks is much greater in extent in the latter than in the former districts. the usurers who advance money to the peasants at from three hundred to two thousand per cent. are without exception christians. the assertion that the jews tempt the people to drunkenness stands morally upon about the same level as the statement that the jews are never found engaged in agriculture. the latter statement is true, but only because the jews are not allowed to live in the open country. the government has now monopolized the retail sale of spirits, thus driving out of the business thousands of jewish tavern-keepers. this measure, however severe, is viewed with satisfaction by intelligent jews as tending to improve the morals of the jewish masses. all these are only idle excuses in justification of the policy of extermination of the jews, which policy has in reality a quite different cause. three conditions have already been cited, any one of which is alone sufficient to place the unhappy jews of the great prison state in an especially bad situation, and also to expose the régime in all its depravity--a depravity almost incomprehensible to western europeans. the first is the great influence which the rich russian usurers possess with the authorities. if shylock is angry with the merchant prince of venice because the latter lends money without interest, in russia the rôles of the contestants are reversed. the jew also exacts usury where he can--no one in seriousness pretends to be surprised at this, in view of the deliberate demoralization of the pale--but in comparison with his russian colleague he keeps within modest limits, being indeed compelled to do so by his circumstances. he necessarily prefers to keep the debtor solvent rather than to drive him out of house and home, which he, the jew, moreover, cannot buy in. the russian usurer, on the other hand, is accustomed to show no mercy, because he calmly seizes the land of his victim, and either leases it or sells it at a profit or adds it to his own property. for a great part of the russian usurers belong to the guild of village usurers. these people influence the under authorities with bribes, while the great speculators, the millionaire usurers of moscow and st. petersburg, who likewise would have to fear the milder methods of their jewish competitors, are powerful enough to influence senators and ministers according to their wishes. the russian usurer, therefore, is the first complainant and enemy of the jews. the second and more powerful cause is the spirit of pobydonostzev, the fanatic of uniformity. combining in himself the qualities of jurist, theologian, and scholastic, he is too barren in mental powers to master the conception of a state which should take into account any diversity of creed or race. above all, however, any toleration would undermine the three pillars upon which alone his conception of the russian empire can rest--autocracy, orthodoxy, and russianism. for the preservation of this asiatic, uniform, absolutist régime, or, better, of the omnipotence of hierarchy, it is above all necessary to keep the people in absolute subjection. this, again, is possible only when every chance of learning anything else than their own condition is closed to them. a prisoner who endangered the spirit of blind obedience by a tendency to dispute orders could not be tolerated in a prison. as little can the great russian prison state endure men who might lead the prisoner to think whether he must be absolutely a prisoner. of such thoughts, however, the jews, who are subject to special taxation, are suspected above all others. their criminality is certainly of the smallest; they are the most punctilious of tax-payers, and, moreover, the best-conducted citizens in the world. but they are--heaven knows why--perhaps because of their talmudic-dialectic occupation, perhaps also because as pariahs they have little cause to be enthusiastic over the ruling order--they are inexorably subtle critics of all existing things, and so could easily upset the simple minds of the russian lower classes. that is the chief reason why they are surrounded by a cordon of plagues. the paternal precaution of the russian government is of course not much wiser than the conviction so many mothers entertain of the unshaken faith of their children in the story that the stork brought the baby. quite without jewish criticism the russian peasant, under the never-resting lash of hunger, begins to think and to grumble; and although his unruly sentiments express themselves chiefly in the specifically russian form of the organization of religious sects, nevertheless each new sectarian shows a new desertion from pobyedonostzev's ideal of a russian subject. upon the organization of sects, however, the jews have of course no direct influence whatever. the third cause of the persecution of the jews is to be found in the satanic brain of plehve, who wishes to furnish to the humane czar, and perhaps still more to the czaritza, who has western european ways of thinking, an indication that without the jews there would be no opposition whatever in russia. for this purpose he not only has the jews entered more strictly on the police-registers, if they are guilty of any political offence, such as being present in a forbidden assemblage, but he also directly provokes them, in order to drive them into the ranks of the revolutionaries and thereby to compromise the latter. in hungary and bohemia ritual murder cases were incited in order to give the jews a lesson to remember, and to make them national--_i. e._, more magyar or czechic--in feeling, since they stubbornly persisted in remaining german. in russia, however, they are driven into the camp of the revolutionaries, in order to extirpate the former and to cast suspicion upon the latter. nevertheless, some governors, who in other respects readily comply with the directions given from above, yet dare to step in in behalf of the jews, contrary to the measures appointed by higher authorities, as for example, prince urussoff, governor of bessarabia, who is to be thanked that in spite of all the efforts of krushevan, the creature of plehve, no outbreaks of the mob against the jews took place in kishinef recently. as personal but nevertheless effectual causes of the persecution of the jews, the anti-semitism of the dowager empress and of the grand-duke sergius, governor-general of moscow, must be mentioned. respectively brother and wife of alexander iii., they conservatively hold to his opinions. this unfortunate and narrow-minded man had been persuaded by conscience-smitten persons that jewish army-contractors were the cause of the defeat of the russians in the turkish war; and it was as hard to get an idea out of his head as to get one in. the inclination of the grand-duke sergius to torture human beings amounts to a disease. he can satisfy it most easily upon the defenceless jews. the final cause of the persecution of the jews, and one which is regarded by many people as the weightiest, is the certain income which legislation against the jews means for every unscrupulous official. most of the laws passed against the jews are quite impossible of execution, or are executed only in a very imperfect way, thanks to the corruptibility of the russian officials. "absolutism palliated by corruption"--this bitter saying fits the case of the jews best. yet what relieves the situation for them in a certain way renders it worse for them in another. it certainly is a question whether the ransom-money of one generation will not become the purchase-money of the next. the russian bureaucracy will not be willing to renounce its income from bribes and extortions. thus it prevents all legislative decrees in favor of the jews. these poorly paid, much feared, but still despised officials are, in the inclined plane of their evil consciences, quite as much victims of the system as the jews, but in a different way. we are all human, whether christian or jew, and in the long run, under the operation of the most depraved of all rules, neither the one nor the other can keep himself pure. the worst thing that has happened to the jews, however, is not, as can well be understood, an occasional "pogrom" (riot), in which, to the indignation of all civilized mankind, defenceless people are slain and plundered by command of the authorities. the worst is the restriction to particular zones and to particular callings. that is systematic massacre, a deliberate policy of destruction and extirpation. even if the misery of the ghetto has, thanks to the strict abstemiousness of the jews, failed as yet to kill them in the way that the peasantry, weakened by alcoholism, are killed in the famine provinces, nevertheless the moral result is frightful. even the iron family morality of the jews is shaken in the western governments. a deplorable percentage of prostitutes is made up of jewesses. experience shows that sexual deprivation is the beginning of every other form of degeneration. moreover, the matter does not generally end with the individual who sinks into prostitution. the ethical ideas of such a morally defective person spread contagion in a wide circle. families are broken up, or unchastity makes its way into them. the whole conception of life becomes different when the chastity of women becomes an article of trade or an object of ironical scepticism. still, in comparison with their environment even these jews may be called chaste, for they are merely stained by the barbarism of the orient. but it is, nevertheless, monstrous that in a christian country the hard-won sexual morality of a part of the population, once gained, must be endangered only because malevolent politics will have it so. the moral purity of the jews and of the teutonic races has redeemed the world from the deep depravity of the roman decadence. now a christian state policy destroys a part of the iron stability of this moral acquisition of humanity. it is self-evident that whoever can tries to free himself from the misery of the ghetto. even russian legislation has left some small gates open, and through these the struggling jews squeeze themselves with every exertion of strength and cunning. then there ensues a battle between brutality and artfulness--one not lacking in elements of humor. the authorities, hostile to the jews, try of course to prevent too many of them from escaping from the ghetto and from settling in cities which it is desired to keep as free from jews as possible. the jews, however, try again and again to evade the prohibitions and the illegally interpreted ordinances and to settle where there is a possibility of a means of livelihood. such cities are, for example, st. petersburg and moscow. the martyrdom which jews and jewesses undergo in order to gain the right to stay in these cities borders on the tragic. a non-resident jewess is not allowed to study in these places, but may live there as a prostitute. an innocent young girl wished to have herself registered as a prostitute, so that she might attend the university, never suspecting what formalities she would have to undergo in consequence. in course of the medical examination, however, the circumstances of the case were immediately discovered, and the young girl was punished for the attempted deception and sent away. a well-known orientalist, a man of seventy years, had business to execute in moscow which he did not succeed in finishing before night. no hotel would have taken him in; and he could not endanger any of his friends, for if in the frequent nocturnal rangings of the police in jewish dwellings a jewish guest without a passport should be taken, the host would lose his right of residence. in his difficulty the old man asked a railroad official how he could pass the icy-cold night. the man gave him the good advice that he should seek out the only place where a man is permitted to take a room and spend the night without a passport--a brothel. accordingly, this man of seventy, in order not to freeze, was obliged to pass the night in a room with a drunken prostitute, and sat until morning in a chair, praying. the man who related these facts to me was a russian author widely known and honored. a jew who for five years has paid the taxes of the first guild in a municipality of the pale receives permission to leave the pale and settle elsewhere. he must, however, gain permission for each member of his family through the strictest formalities. woe to him if a child has been born to him during that time! it cannot qualify, and it may easily happen that the father must return to the pale. a jewish merchant of the first guild in moscow tried to obtain permission to send such a child to school. admission was refused, because he did not possess the necessary papers. the father appealed to the senate in st. petersburg, and asked for provisional permission for attendance of his child at school until the passing of a judgment in that place. the minister of justice, muraviev, however, entered a protest against this. therefore the father was obliged either to employ private tutors or to let the child grow up without instruction. whoever works as assistant to a dentist, and has obtained a certificate, may open an office for himself. the only requirement for this is that it shall be well fitted up and that nobody shall sleep in it. this facilitation is granted because of the fact that in russia there is a great lack of dentists. yet a jewish dentist went to a lawyer and complained that he had fitted up his office and had handed in to the police his request for leave to practise. the police waited three months, then came and explained that, since he had not practised his profession for three months, he must immediately leave moscow. he was obliged to leave his house immediately, and wander about all night, because he could nowhere find lodging. another jewish dentist, a woman, wished to take her examination. a certificate was demanded testifying to her political blamelessness. when she tried to obtain this it was refused her, since she had no right of residence there, and therefore could not demand a certificate! the jews meet these tricks of the authorities with tricks of their own. they pay for a dentist's certificate, fit up an office, and then go into trade in bed-feathers or calico. the police official who wishes to prove whether the dentist's profession is really practised has some ruble notes slipped into his hand. very recently the jews have found a means to become known as christians without baptism, which they shun. good-natured priests, who receive nothing at all for a baptism but a large price for a written declaration that x. y. is an orthodox christian, draw up such declarations. the unbaptized hebrew comes as an orthodox christian to great russia and carries on business, while the helpful priest receives a little income from him. in general, the jew must be able to pay; in that case life is not hard for him in russia, where, as i have said, no anti-semitic feeling whatever exists among the people, and the national characteristics of good-nature, of heartiness, helpfulness, and politeness make life easy and pleasant. but woe to the poor wretch who cannot pay at every step! woe to the struggler who wishes to better his lot! woe to the lover of justice who dares to fight for his rights or even for the public welfare! one of the special laws for the jews is that any one may trample him and injure him unpunished. of all the unfortunate subjects of the czar, he is the most unfortunate. his intelligence, his sense of justice are offences against the sacred order of things, which demands stupidity and obedience. thus exists the entirely incomprehensible condition that a great realm steers towards inevitable economic ruin for lack of economic intelligence, while it possesses five million born financiers, who in the lifetime of a man could change russia into an economic world-power. xvii the jewish question a visit to russia offers opportunity for an extremely interesting study. one may become acquainted with a rapid succession of towns where the population is almost entirely jewish, or half jewish, or to a large extent jewish, and also with others in which residence is practically prohibited to jews, which, therefore, to speak in anti-semitic jargon, are almost "clean of jews." in western europe there is neither the one nor the other. it would be strange, indeed, if such ethnologically unique conditions offered to the observant spectator no disclosures which he seeks elsewhere in vain. in fact, i made in the cities free of jews an observation which seems to me well worth imparting. the jewish problem is nothing but a problem of relative overpopulation. the jews are unendurable only where they are forced to compete with each other. i made this observation in the following way: the jewish proletarians of poland impressed me as extremely repulsive. their laziness, their filth, their craftiness, their perpetual readiness to cheat cannot help but fill the western european with very painful feelings and unedifying thoughts, in spite of all the teachings of history and all desire to be just. the evil wish arises that in some painless way the world might be rid of these disagreeable objects, or the equally inhuman thought that it would really be no great pity if this part of the polish population did not exist at all. one is ashamed of such thoughts; nevertheless, that does not rid one's mind of them. either we must renounce our ideas of cleanliness and honesty or find a great part of the eastern hebrews altogether unpleasant. since the former is impossible, the latter will always be the case. comparison with the still dirtier, still more immoral, still more neglected polish proletariat does not drive away these thoughts. the jew has, besides his filth and his craftiness in business, something else which calls to mind a nobility of civilization, so that he cannot be confused with any chance "lazzarone" or vagabond. he is not himself, but the caricature of a man of culture, and as such he produces an irritating effect. in the cities free of jews all this suddenly disappears. the jews whom one has opportunity to meet there, well educated merchants of the first guild, incorporated artisans, and descendants of the jewish soldiers of nicholas i., are of quite another caliber from their polish brothers. they are in no way to be distinguished from the russians. one is continually prone to take the bearded russian driver or merchant for a jew and the intelligently keen jew for a european. then one learns that these jewish lawyers, physicians, merchants, and artisans are treated by the russians themselves as their equals in every respect; indeed, that the jews enjoy a certain priority as being relatively more honest in their dealings. on the contrary, the russians, when large numbers of them follow a single calling, as, say, in the great mercantile houses or the ranks of trade, show all the qualities which, to our western minds, are stamped as specifically jewish. they are outrageously obtrusive, and unreliable to the point of open deception. the german hanse towns strictly forbade their merchants to give russian jews goods on credit, to lend them money, or to borrow from them, under penalty of immediate punishment.[ ] in making the smallest purchase one finds that there is no question of a mercantile reality; that there is no fixed price, no keeping one's word, nothing that to us in the west has long seemed a matter of course. just as in the orient the spanish jews seem much more reliable and sterling than the rascally greeks and armenians, the jews, when thinly scattered, gain by comparison with the native russians. now the russian jew is no spaniard, with a proud western past. he is altogether identical with the polish jew. his higher development cannot be accounted for by any ethnological difference. it is simply that under quite different economic conditions of existence he has become a quite different person. dr. polyakoff, of moscow, is, in fact, another man from, say, his grandfather, pollak, of poland. with these facts we now approach the real problem. the overcrowding of a calling engenders a competition in squalor among christians as well as jews, aryans as well as semites. the jews, however, live in overcrowded callings all over the world, obeying historic laws of adaptation even where other callings, not overcrowded, are not closed to them. hence we have the disagreeable phenomenon of the handing over of certain vocations to the jews, which means nothing else than the injury of these callings by the trickery of the competition of squalor. where no fetters are placed on the economic life, the healthy organism, in time, overcomes these local inflammations, as we may designate, by an expression taken from pathology, the influx of an abnormal number of cells of a certain sort to a place not intended for them. the crowding of the callings until self-support is impossible, the sinking of endurance in the overcrowded vocation, lead to a flowing off of the superfluous elements, and finally the whole organism has overcome the crisis of assimilation by forcing each particle where it is economically most valuable. in germany the adjustment cannot be far away. the fact of the unheard-of economic growth during the past fifteen years, and the unusual increase of prosperity in all branches, show at least that germany in its bare fifty years of jewish emancipation has been in no way injured economically. in russia, also, the most expedient thing would evidently be simply to declare the removal of all restrictive laws, and to open to the jews the interior of the country, as well as all occupations which they might wish to enter. the blessing to russia would be immense, for the jews, as thinking men and members of a race of ancient civilization, would bring to the russian nation just what it lacks, an intelligent middle class capable of culture. the percentage of jews would not be at all too high for russia to carry without danger to the national character of society. to about one hundred and thirty million russians there are about five million jews--that is, barely four per cent. the "jew-free" cities of moscow and st. petersburg show approximately this proportion, without the jews being perceptible there. (it must be admitted that one of the comforts of these cities is that they are not, like warsaw, for instance, overwhelmed with greasy, caftaned jews.) if it could be brought about, therefore, that the jews could be scattered throughout the whole kingdom in the ratio of four per cent., it would be an incalculable gain for all parties, and mankind would be rid of a problem which threatens the condition of our ethics and humanity the more the longer it exists. nevertheless, this is not to be thought of as an immediate possibility. the russian government is not in the least gifted with magnanimity and farsighted patience, though the contrary is true of the russian people, who are entirely free from anti-semitic prejudice. for this reason any enlargement of jewish rights of residence and vocation is prevented by the pointing out of the infection which would then threaten all cities and all lucrative occupations. the jewish question will long remain unsolved, for whom could the russian officials bleed if not the tormented, worried, defenceless jews? footnote: [ ] _book of documents of esthonia, livonia, and courland_, reval, - , nos. - , and _documentary business of the origin of the german hanse_, hamburg, , ii., no. ix., p. ; both cited in lanin _russian characteristics_, german edition, i., . xviii plehve in the winter of there took place in cracow one of those great socialistic trials with which in those days it was hoped in austria to smother the socialistic movements which were imported by unscrupulous agitators. the trial is known in the annals of social-democracy as the proceedings against warnynski and his accomplices. thirty-five men were indicted, among them twenty russians from volhynia, mostly students of the polytechnic institute in st. petersburg, who had been arrested in the work of agitation in galicia. the prisoners noticed during the proceedings that they were conducted one at a time, under one pretext or another, out through a special door of the courtroom, and they could discover no explanation of this queer course of action. finally, one of them, in passing through the door, found the reason. it was a double door provided with a deep niche. in this niche was a russian functionary acting as a voluntary menial to the austrian police, and at the same time as a spy in the russian service, who took this opportunity of taking cognizance of his own people among those who were led by. of course the matter was not closed without the gravest insults to those caught, who could only be protected against further abuse by the court constabulary. and this police devotee, who showed such zeal in putting down international revolution, was no one else than the present all-powerful figure in russia, his excellency the minister of the interior, m. von plehve, at that time states-attorney in warsaw. with this bit of sleuthing, which the poles very well remember to this day, this fortune-favored statesman made his début in the world outside of russia. he has remained true to his character. he is to-day, at the head of the greatest state in the world, nothing else but the greatest police spy in the world. his politics are stamped with all the characteristics of a police origin, police in the machiavellian sense--_i. e._, crime in the service of order. in all russia i spoke to no one who would have chosen for the description of plehve's character any other expressions than those which serve for the delineation of the lowest level of moral existence. i shall here try to make a sketch of plehve in accordance with the statements about him which were made to me with perfectly astonishing unanimity. justice must be done even the basest. it should be mentioned at the outset that in a land of universal venality the reputation of plehve had this considerable advantage, he was said to be absolutely unbribable. that is a great deal, a very great deal, when one considers that in russia certain legislative acts are quite openly traceable to the payment of this or that high functionary. suspicion, which as a rule does not even spare princes, never once tainted him. but little account do the russians take of this characteristic. probably they would prefer it if his other evil traits were a bit softened by the vice of venality. for plehve passes for something far worse than a spendthrift or a wasteling. he is a rascal without scruples, a political sadist, a bloodhound, an accomplished deceiver; at the same time, a cynic entirely without heart, a "va banque,"[ ] a swindler to whom a political career or the playing with human lives means nothing more than a pleasant nerve stimulant--in short, a tiger clothed in a human form. at the same time, he has the most charming manners, is delightful and entertaining, and possesses the most true-hearted face possible. his unbelievable falseness is the next thing about which all complain who have had doings with him. "every word that he speaks is a lie," is the assertion which one oftenest hears about him. the criminal element in his tactics consists not only in the fact that he persuades the czar that revolution is at hand, and keeps him in continual, nerve-killing anxiety by means of threatening letters, proclamations, and so forth, which he causes to be smuggled into the emperor's pockets, but still more in the fact that he actually provokes disorders, in order to be able to use them as arguments and to strengthen his position, and in the further fact that he is continually discovering conspiracies and handling the supposed members in the most fearful way in order to prove his indispensability. the whole store of police tricks which have been played on despots in order to turn autocrats into willing tools of their prætorians has been pillaged by plehve in order to bring his system to a state of perfection. in particular the jews and the poles must suffer in order to contribute to the danger of the situation--_i. e._, the indispensability of plehve. not a soul in russia doubts that the kishinef massacres were the direct result of his commands; the cynicism with which he rewarded krushevan, the leading agitator from bessarabia, with which he took under his protection the agitator pronin, who had been insulted by a congress of teachers, is a shameless acknowledgment of his deed, which, to say more, he only repudiates before foreign countries, not, however, before his confidants. he seizes upon every little thing in order to make some big affair out of it. in warsaw the widows of the members of a committee which had collected money for a polish hospital corps were stoned by students. immediately was sent the telegraphic order to investigate the thing most thoroughly, and if those who were the sufferers had not refused all assistance to the police another couple of dozen would-be rioters would have been sent to siberia, in order that the existence of a polish revolution might be proved. a russian editor, whose paper had been suppressed because of the publication of a revolutionary poem, sought audience of the head of the censorship at the ministry of the interior, in order to obtain permission for the reappearance of the paper. the chief of the department explained to the editor, according to a russian nobleman, that if he should simply declare to the minister that the revolutionary poem had been smuggled into the paper by jews, he would immediately obtain permission to publish his paper again! from a source whence i never should have expected such a statement, from a highly conservative aristocrat, an "excellency" in the service of the state, i received in all seriousness the information that only plehve, in league with alexeyev, had conjured up the war by holding off the japanese, simply because in this way he would become so much the more indispensable. nay, more, it was even indicated to me that the nihilists, who killed alexander ii. at the very moment when the proclamation of a constitution lay upon the table awaiting his signature, could not have found their way to the imperial carriage without help from the police. and the ally of loris-melikov, the man who had drawn up the plan, and who best of all knew how near its signature, which must be avoided, the proclamation was, was none other than plehve! his instinct drove him to the ranks of the reactionaries, for there is little use for people of his caliber in a constitutional state. his anti-semitic tendencies, which he naturally disavows to every jewish visitor, are only assumed because people high in position and influence, like the empress dowager, prince sergius, and others of the generation of alexander iii., are fanatically anti-semitic. so even this is not genuine in him. nothing is but his theatrical ambition to assert himself as long as possible, and to have the nerve-tickling of a tight-rope walker who balances on his wire rope over fixed bayonets. that is the picture of the minister of the interior as public opinion in russia paints it. i must confess that the picture is as little to my taste as is the man. while the great russian novelists are, above all, masters in the use of shades, political public opinion likes to work with the strongest colors, with bloody superlatives. suspicious as the circumstances may be that not a soul in the broad russian empire is inclined to say a friendly word for the ruling power of the time, yet the unprejudiced observer must reckon with the circumstance that even without a free press in russia there is a certain uniformity of political opinion which can only be explained on the hypothesis of a certain uniform centre of opinion, many of whose statements are taken on faith by every one. i imagine that this centre is situated pretty high, perhaps in the immediate neighborhood of the czar, and that the picture of each minister is sketched by his rivals, but, like every article for the masses, only in poster style, in striking words, very white or, oftener, very black. he, not a russian and not a rival, who has not the same burning interest in getting rid of plehve, will therefore do well to transpose this rascal from his supernatural atmosphere into an every-day one, and a somewhat different picture will result. i think of it in this light: plehve comes from a states-attorney and a police career. some traces of this origin cleave to every one of like training. judges who have been states-attorney are the terror of lawyers, because of their inquisitorial manner, and because of their inclination to see in every defendant a person already condemned. furthermore, dealings with police agents are least of all fitted to cultivate scrupulousness. let only puttkammer's words be recalled, "gentlemen do not volunteer for such services."[ ] the continual fear of assassination, which is well founded in the case of the head of the russian police--plehve allows his expenditures for the guarding of his person to amount as high as eight hundred thousand rubles a year--does not conduce to making a man human; and, finally, all bearers of honors in russia are cynics, because their existence is founded only on the mood of a single person, and their whole career is a game of hazard. in the case of plehve and others there is this additional evil influence, that not being russians--plehve is a pole, of lettish-jewish origin--they must distinguish themselves by special russian chauvinism in order to avoid suspicion. plehve is not a great man, his whole ministerial career being devoid of a single noteworthy act. he is a successful official, who intends by every means to make himself felt in high circles, and who considers himself justified in countering the intriguing of his rivals by any or all the means customary in the land, and "voilà tout." but, in general, love of truth is not a characteristic of so-called public life in russia. hence it would be unjust to count as a special crime plehve's special falseness. it must be conceded that even this picture is far from being a pleasing one. if to these features the proved fact is added that plehve denounced to the governor-general, count muraviev, his own polish foster-parents, who picked him up, so to speak, in the very street and raised him (plehve was originally a catholic), so that they were sent to siberia in return for their kindness; that plehve, therefore, began his career with a deed of infamous ingratitude and treachery,[ ] then the black will be black enough to allow of passing over the remaining smirches in the picture of a monster. but the most pitiful of all that i heard about plehve's régime was the answer i received when i asked a man in a very responsible position whether better things might be expected when plehve should be overtaken by his inevitable fate. "no," the answer was; "deserved as such a fate will be, for us it will bring no help. another man, that is all. plehve is only the ideal required by the régime. a police state needs police natures, and always finds them. he has all the vices save that of corruptibility, but is by no means unique in the hierarchy of russian officials. and it is far from probable that anything better would succeed him. if all russia hopes [_sic_] that he will soon be annihilated, it is not because an amelioration of things is hoped for, but because some satisfaction is felt when one of these beasts meets his due. but a philanthropist and a friend of justice will be just as unlikely to be minister of the interior under an absolutism as he is to desire to be an executioner. only another system can bring us other men. a reign of terror tolerates only hangmen." footnotes: [ ] one who risks everything on one card. [ ] "gentlemen geben sich für diese dienste nicht her." [ ] see struve's _oswobozhdenie_. xix the administration of justice it was perhaps not altogether accidental that one evening at a social gathering i was introduced to one of the foremost lawyers of st. petersburg, whose biting sarcasm in discussing the events of the day immediately struck me, and aroused in me the desire to have a more serious talk with him. this was immediately granted with that amiability which is never wanting in the intercourse of russians with foreigners. subsequently i learned that i might congratulate myself, for that particular lawyer was said to be not only one of the keenest minds in russia, but one of the men best acquainted with his country. moreover, he was so overwhelmed with work that even greater men were often obliged to wait by the hour in his antechamber before they were able to gain admission. indeed, the time fixed for our interview, near midnight, showed this to be the case. the conversation lasted until long after that hour, but i had no cause to regret the loss of several hours of sleep. my host rose immediately and gave the inevitable order to bring tea and cigarettes. in a few minutes we were discussing the question which interested me most, as being the key to an understanding of all the other economic conditions of the country--namely, the question of the administration of justice in russia. "one circumstance makes it uncommonly difficult here to obtain justice," began the lawyer. "i refer to the strained relations between the bench and the bar. here the judge is more hostile to counsel than is the case in other countries, and often enough he is inclined to make them feel his power. this is less serious in civil suits--in which the judge, after all, merely has to do with the parties in the case--than in criminal cases, in which the judge represents the authority of the realm towards the accused and his advocate. in such cases the defendant may easily pay the penalty of the animosity which the judge feels towards his counsel." "what is the cause of this?" "it has only too human a cause. it is not unheard of for a busy lawyer of reputation and good connections to earn thirty or forty thousand rubles a year, or more. compare with that the wretched salaries of the judges; consider how costly living is here; imagine the continuous over-burden of work of the bench and the lack of public appreciation, and you will comprehend why our judges do not look at the world in general through rose-colored glasses, and particularly at the prosperous, well-situated lawyer." "you say lack of public appreciation. is the position of judge not an honorable one?" "on the whole, no official in russia is much respected. at the most he is feared. the most lucrative positions, however, are those of the administrative department and the police. in these branches are to be found the most rapid and brilliant careers, and therefore the sons of great families, in so far as they become officials, prefer them. the judge must work hard, and has small thanks." "does not this evil have a moral effect on the impartial administration of justice also?" "you mean, in plain speech, are not our judges to be bought? well, i must say, to the honor of these functionaries, that relatively speaking they constitute the most honorable class of all our officials, and that the majority of them are superior to bribery. to be frank, there is professional ambition enough; and the effort to please superiors is almost a matter of course, since the independence of the judges, which had brought us extraordinary improvement in the candidates for the office, has been set aside again." "your judges are not, then, independent and irremovable?" "what are you thinking of--under our present régime? we do not wish independent judges. a minister of justice like muraviev, who certainly constitutes the supreme type of all that is meant by the expression, 'a man of no honor,' is the strongest hinderance to justice. therefore, a monetary acknowledgment to the whole senate is expected for each satisfactory judgment. we have such a case just now. here you have a list of names of seven judges who were promoted out of turn by minister muraviev on consideration of the kind support which they gave to the ryaboushinskys, the moscow millionaires, against the bank of kharkov, which was their debtor." "will you permit me to make a note of this list?" "certainly. i am not the only man who has it." i noted down the names davidov, sokalski, vishnevsky, laiming, delyanov, dublyavski, podgurski. they were entered on a type-written sheet with the distinction and encouragement they had respectively received after a suit which brought a considerable profit to a moscow millionaire firm. "but you said," i objected, "that the judges are not open to bribery. yet they performed an illegitimate service to millionaires." "certainly i said the judges are not open to bribery; but i did not say that of the minister of justice. on the contrary, i called him a man without honor in a place of the highest power." "you mean, then, that he was paid for the judgment that was given in the interest of the millionaires?" "your astonishment only betrays the foreigner. only the little debts of the honorable minister were paid off--good heavens!" "it is incomprehensible." "on the other hand, the judge has everything to fear when he is not compliant. do you suppose that a comedy of justice like that of kishinef can be played with independent judges? and yet there are always heroes to be found who fear no measures, but administer justice according to their convictions. that is the astonishing thing, not the opposite, under a muraviev-plehve régime." "was it better, then, formerly?" "it was, and would have become better still if our authorities had remained true to their mission of uplifting the altogether immoral people instead of corrupting them still further. in the system of pobydonostzev, in which politics take the place of morality, no improvement is to be expected. you might as well expect fair play from the spaniards of the inquisition as here, where premiums are set upon all sorts of unwise actions, if only they seem to lead to the levelling of the masses, who are to be kept unthinking." "you say the people are immoral?" "they lack--above all things, the sense of justice. no one here has rights. no one thinks he has. the natural state of things is that everything is forbidden. a privilege is a favor to which no one has any claim. to win a lawsuit is a matter of luck, not the result of a definite state of justice. one has no right to gain his cause simply because he is in the right. as a consequence of this, it is neither discreditable nor disgraceful to be in the wrong. you win or lose according as the die falls. i will illustrate from your own experience. you were to-day in the hermitage. at a certain door, before which stood a servant, you asked whether people were permitted to enter. the answer was not 'yes' or 'no,' but 'admittance is commanded,' or 'admittance is not commanded.' this spirit extends to the smallest things. that you keep your child with you and bring it up is not a matter of course, but you are permitted to have children and to bring them up--the latter, be it noted, only in so far as the police allow. if you should to-day suffer heavy loss by robbery or burglary, what should you do?" "i should report the matter, of course." "you say of course, because it is a matter of course to you that a crime reported should become characterized as a crime, because in a certain way you feel the duty of personally upholding law and order. when the same thing happens to me, a russian, i must first conquer my natural tendency, and then after a long struggle i, too, will report the matter, because--well, because i, as a lawyer and a representative of justice, am no longer a naïve russian, but am infused with the usual ideas of justice. the normal russian exceedingly seldom reports a case to the police, because he absolutely lacks the conviction of the necessity of justice. when he says of anybody that he is a clever rascal, his emphasis is laid on the word clever, which expresses unlimited appreciation." "that must make general intercourse exceedingly difficult." "certainly. to live in russia means to use a thousand arts in keeping one's head above water. one never has a sure ground of law under his feet. property both public and private is perhaps not less safe in turkey than here. have you heard of the great steel affair?" "no." "it is no wonder, for we do not make much ado about a little mischance of this sort. in that affair a capital of eight million rubles disappeared without a trace. it was invested in the coal and steel works. a grand-duke, moreover, was interested in the enterprise, grand-duke peter nikolaievitch. a license to mine iron ore on a certain territory for ninety-nine years had been obtained. a company was formed with a capital of ten million rubles. the grand-duke took shares to the amount of a million rubles. the enormously rich chludoff put eight million rubles into the concern. french and belgian experts were brought on special steamers; champagne flowed in streams. of course the reports of the experts were glowing ones. but after three years there was of the eight million rubles, barely paid in, not a kopek more to be found. it had all been stolen. likewise there was no ore or coal on the territory, nor had there ever been. no one went to law about the affair, so little sensation did it cause." "when did this affair take place?" "between and ." "and can your press do nothing to better this general corruption?" "we have a saying, 'it is hard to dig with a broken shovel.' talented people like ourselves soon learned from abroad the little art of corrupting the press. with a fettered press like ours, this is less difficult here than in other countries, where a paper respecting public opinion might under some circumstances be unreservedly outspoken. but why should a press with suvorin and the _novoye vremya_ at the head, surpassing absolutely all records of baseness--why should such a press run the risk of bankruptcy? moreover, you must always keep one thing in mind: a press may exert tremendous power by publishing a man's worthlessness, until he is made powerless in society; but since here notorious sharpers are readily accepted in the highest ranks of society, and even grand-dukes do not escape the suspicion of corruption, it does no one any harm to be reported as having dexterously spirited away a few hundred thousands." "you say even grand-dukes?" "--are not safe from suspicion. i can personally testify that not one of them takes a ruble himself. but the persons who live by obtaining concessions for joint-stock companies, etc., know how to represent that they need considerable sums for the purpose of influencing the highest persons, the minister and grand-dukes. hence arises this idea." "and intelligent business men believe that?" "believe it? no one would understand the opposite. imagine a scene in my office. a business man comes to me with a case. he inquires my fee. i say five hundred rubles. he asks what will be the expenses. i say a few rubles for stamp duties, etc. then he becomes more definite. he means the _charges_. 'there are none,' i answer. the man of business rises, disappointed. 'ah! so you have no influential connections?' i will not say that this happens very often with me; for the men who come to me once know what i can do, and what not, and what my practice is. the case is, however, characteristic. outside the legal profession, which still lives on the tradition of the time of its independence, every one is open to bribery; and every one reckons with the fact." "and no one is angry at open injustice?" "what is injustice? despotism of the great. we have been used to that for thousands of years and accept it like the caprices of fortune. the peasant makes no distinction between a hail-storm which ruins his crop and an authority who oppresses or injures him. there is no way of resisting either; for when one curses god, he sends greater misfortune; and when one disputes with the authorities, one is absolutely lost. 'duck, little brother; everything passes'; that is the final conclusion of our wisdom. we are educated to it by inhuman despots and by an official service of thieves and debauchees. we lack, too, the sharply defined idea of ownership, in which the sense of justice, considered psychologically, has its root. you know that here the peasants own their own land only to an extremely small extent. the individual is merged and lost in the 'mir' (village community), where the trustee, the 'zemski nachnalnik,'[ ] the village elder, and liquor rule. this _obshtchina_, communism, is the strongest fortress of reaction. no ray of enlightenment penetrates it. at the utmost, misery and ever-returning hunger produce finally a condition of despair in which the peasant is capable of anything except an action which might advance him in civilization. in the census of there were found villages where no one had any idea what paper is, and peasants who did not know the name of the emperor. the 'mir,' moreover, is in its nature opposed to private ownership, and every discussion between the member of the village communism and the property-holder is artfully prevented by the scattering about of compulsory peasants. for property-owners are at present for the most part liberal. the régime, however, stands or falls with the isolation of the peasantry from liberal influences. for the peasant is not unintelligent by nature, and, if he is not prevented, he learns very quickly." "that is also, then, one of the causes of the ill-treatment of the jews?" "it is _the_ cause. do not suppose that the holy synod alone has power to influence legislation in favor of orthodoxy. sectarians and jews are demonstrably the only people who have a moral code of their own, and, therefore, know how to distinguish justice from injustice. they are also the only ones who criticise the actions of the authorities. they were, therefore, a dangerous leaven in the community, otherwise slipping off to sleep in a body. therefore, it was a matter of self-preservation for the autocracy to isolate the jews and make them harmless. do not suppose that any anti-semitic feeling is prevalent among us. the autocrats are trying artfully to implant it by means of such people as plehve's intimate, krushevan, of the 'bessarabetz.' but the effect does not go deep, thanks to the same circumstance which makes the progress of civilization difficult; the peasant cannot read, and does not in the least believe the priest. the massacres of kishinef were directly commanded. every man was killed by order of the czar. no anti-semitism exists among the people. whatever anti-semitism there is is sown by the government for the purpose of isolating the peasants in order that 'the urchins may grow up stupid.'" "ought not the jews to take that into account and not meddle with politics?" "in the first place, i see no reason why the jews should become accomplices of this formidable and soul-killing régime of ours. they will be oppressed all the same, whether meek or unruly. they will remain under special legislation, simply because no one can stop the flow of the official's unfailing spring of revenue--the ravaging of the jews. moreover, the jews have never received so much sympathy from us as since they began to place themselves on the defensive and to make common cause with our radicals. now for the first time they belong to us, and yet really only those who actually fight with us and for us. this matter, too, is misrepresented. statistics, which show a percentage of eighty-five jews in every hundred revolutionaries, are falsified, because gentiles are allowed to slip through in order to injure the radical--_i. e._, the constitutional--movement by representing it as un-russian and jewish, and to mobilize foreign anti-semitism against us. but the jews ought to be grateful to plehve, for, thanks to his machinations, all the intelligent opinion among us has become favorable to the jews, and recognizes the solidarity of its interest and those of the jews. the struggle conduces much, however, to the assimilation of the jews. they are our brothers; they suffer with us and for us, even if also for themselves; for our whole jewish legislation for twenty years past has consisted only in the curtailing of the rights accorded them under alexander ii. why should they not become revolutionaries? but they are enemies of the administration merely, not of the state; therefore, we find ourselves on the same footing." i closed my interview, as in all cases, with the question, "what hope is there for the future?" and received the same answer as in all other cases: "everything depends upon how this war ends. if god helps us and we lose the war, improvement is possible; for then ruin, above all, the chronic bankruptcy of the nation, can no longer be concealed. if a man should enter my room now--at this hour only respectable persons enter my room--and i should say to him, 'what do you hope and wish in regard to the war?' his answer would be, 'defeat; the only means to save us.' if we calculate how many men are shot and exiled and how many families are ruined every year by absolutism, the total equals the losses in war--a more terrible one, however, for only a catastrophe can make an end of this war, which has long been destroying us. therefore, i say again, if god helps us we shall lose the war in the east. do not allow yourself to be deceived by any official preparations. every good russian prays, 'god help us and permit us to be beaten!'" when i left the brilliant lawyer it was, as i have said, long after midnight. it was "butter-week,"[ ] and my sleigh had trouble in avoiding the drunken men who staggered across our way, and the shrieking hussies, who, with their companions with or without uniforms, carried on pastimes suitable to the season. footnotes: [ ] chief of the county council.--translator. [ ] "butter-week" (maslyanitza) is in russia the week preceding lent. meat is forbidden, but milk, butter, and eggs are allowed as food. like the carnival, it is celebrated with popular amusements.--translator. xx the imperial family as the public sees it "in no constitutional state is the practical influence of the head of the government so slight as in the autocracy of russia," was one of the sayings i heard most often in st. petersburg, when i endeavored to inform myself in regard to the personality and the acts of the reigning czar. there are, to be sure, individual opinions to the contrary. according to these it depends entirely upon the personality of the autocrat whether he exerts a strong influence or not. the conservatives incline to the latter view. prince esper ukhtomski held it; so did a former high functionary in the department of finance, as well as a conservative aristocrat in another department, all of whom i questioned on this point. one of them said in so many words that the czar needs only to lift a finger to banish all the evil spirits which now rule the land. the aristocrat believed the country might be delivered by an emperor better trained for his functions. prince ukhtomski ascribes to the leading statesmen, at least, influence enough to do good and to prevent evil, and, therefore, to do the contrary, as has been done for twenty years, especially under the régime of plehve. the liberals and radicals, however, who form the greater part of the so-called "intelligence," leave the personality of the ruler entirely out of the question, perhaps from a premature comparison with their constitutional model. they declare a change of conditions without a change of the system to be impossible. to be sure, they say, if a suspicious, inhumane, reactionary czar like alexander iii. is on the throne, the domination of the camorra of officials is made more oppressive. yet the present mild and benevolent autocrat cannot prevent the existence of conditions which are more insupportable than ever. only the press and a parliament could amend matters, not the good intentions of a single man. i do not undertake to judge which of the two parties is right. in any case it seems worth while to sketch the czar's personality, which is certainly an element in the fate of russia and of europe. the portrait is drawn from the reports of people who have had sufficient opportunity to form a conception of him from their personal observation. it is, of course, impossible for me to name my authorities, or to indicate them in any but the most distant way. it must suffice to say that among them were people who have known not only the present rulers, but also their parents and grandparents, from intimate association. i myself have seen the czar only once. the current portraits of him are very good. the only striking and noteworthy thing in the handsome and sympathetic face is the expression of melancholy resignation. one authority alone--whose statements on other matters i have found to be invariably careful and accurate--expressed doubts of the good-nature of the czar, and accused him of designing and of rather petty malevolence. all others, including prince ukhtomski, who had been the companion of the czar for years, agree in emphasizing the extraordinary, almost childlike lovableness and kindliness of the emperor, who is said to be actually fascinating in personal intercourse. this agrees with the fact, which i know from one unquestionably trustworthy source, that the czar is intentionally deaf to everything in the reports of his counsellors likely to disparage or cast suspicion upon a colleague, while he immediately listens and asks for details when he hears from one of his ministers a word favorable to the action of another. it is an absolute necessity for him to do good, and it is a constant source of fresh pain to him that he cannot prevent the great amount of existing evil. again, while the single authority says he has found in the czar indications of a subtle if not powerful intellect, the others, while they praise his goodness of heart, do not conceal the weakness of his judgment, which, according to them, certainly has something pathological about it. prince ukhtomski alone speaks of the emperor with invariable respect and sympathy, without limiting each hearty statement with an immediate "but." all others, without exceptions, explain the prætorian rule of plehve by the mental and moral helplessness of the emperor, who is entirely uninformed, and is treated by those about him in the most abominable way--under cover of all outward signs of devotion. the things that people dare do to him, presuming upon this helplessness, border upon the inconceivable. that threatening letters can constantly be smuggled into the czar's pockets, and even into his bed, without his finally hitting upon the idea of seizing his body-servant by the cravat, is a very strong proof of his mental inactivity; the more so, incidentally, because he hears himself ridiculed outside his own door. this police canard is told, moreover, of alexander iii., who was a dreaded despot. the rôle, too, which plehve played, although the czar did not esteem him in the least, shows how successfully the latter has been intimidated and persuaded into the entirely mistaken belief that plehve alone could avert the threatening revolution. at the same time the czar is said to be anything but confiding in regard to his nearest counsellors. when a report is made to him he sits in the shadow; the man who makes the report sits in the light. he tries to decipher the man's expression and to control him, a thing which is, of course, impossible, since a good russian physiognomy is more impenetrable than a russian iron-clad. his lack of knowledge of affairs is as marked as his lack of judgment. i will give an instance of this. in the provinces a quarrel had broken out between the self-governing corporation, the "zemstvos," and the governors. this difference between self-government and autocracy was presented to the czar as turning merely on the question of centralization or decentralization, and as if it were a matter for disagreement between the governors and the minister of the interior, the governors striving against the same full authority that is held by the ministers of the czar. in this way the czar was successfully deceived in regard to the nature of the quarrel; he did not learn at all that the provinces were making a demonstration against autocracy. the result of the deception was, of course, that the czar declared himself for the ministry of the interior--that is, for plehve, the increase of whose power he by no means wished. the rôle which certain adventurers like the hypnotist philippe and the promoter bezobrazov are able to play at court is also certainly a notable symptom. the former was to suggest to the czaritza the birth of a boy, while otherwise he carried through whatever he wished, since he used the spirit of alexander iii. to secure a hearing for his suggestions. his departure from court followed upon his impudently having the spirits recommend a specific firm of contractors for the building of a bridge. bezobrazov, one of the agents who have the asiatic war on their consciences, is now living somewhere abroad, and does not dare return, at least while the war lasts. still more significant, it seems to me, is the authenticated statement that the emperor has many times received publications upon the condition of his empire, has carefully read them, and has praised them, without taking the slightest step towards carrying out the reforms recommended to him; indeed, after the lapse of a few days, he has ceased even to refer in conversation to the suggestions. this would seem to indicate an almost abnormal weakness of will, which makes it easy for a gifted, inconsiderate, and self-confident reactionary like the grand-duke alexander mikhailovitch to carry out his own ideas in everything. according to these statements, which come directly in every case from original sources, the czar is to be regarded as a man upon the whole good-natured and lovable, who is, perhaps, too modest and too conscious of his insufficient knowledge to have the full courage of responsibility, without which an autocrat is the least able of leaders to endure his great burden. inconsiderate and crafty people, who profit by his weakness, govern him, and he may even be glad of this. in his perplexity and helplessness, which are due to his human sympathy and modesty, he is obliged to submit to others with whom he can at least leave the responsibility for affairs, which in general, as in the specific case of the war in eastern asia, go contrary to his wishes. his timid temperament is shown especially in his relations with his mother, the dowager empress, who even now, supported by the reactionary members of the family, plays the part of the actual empress, and cruelly mortifies the young consort of the czar. it is an open secret that the relations between the two women are anything but untroubled, a condition which reacts upon the relations of the imperial pair themselves. the dowager empress has renounced none of her prerogatives in favor of her daughter-in-law, who consequently feels herself in a very false position, and complains bitterly of it. people assured me, moreover, that according to russian ideas none of the rights claimed by the young czaritza belong to her so long as the empress-mother lives. hence it vexes the czaritza that she cannot curb her so-called ambition. the empress-mother, however, is not at all popular, at least in liberal circles, where she is held responsible for the fact that her son cannot free himself from the evil traditions of his father, who was a strictly upright, but relentless and brutal despot. the young czaritza was blamed among the common people because she had borne no prince in spite of the prayers of the archbishop john; she is blamed at court also because she does not conceal her english sympathies. one old friend of the imperial family, however, assured me that there is no more charming, upright, and affectionate woman living than this young hessian princess. she is, he said, completely intimidated by the enemies who surround her and shows them a lowering face. where she feels herself secure, however, her merry south-german nature comes to the top, and she can even now romp like a little child. it speaks for the innocence of her nature that she is prouder of nothing than of her potato-salad. for the rest, the same authority asserts, she has a mind of her own, and may be not always the most comfortable companion for a husband. among the other members of the family the grand-duke constantine is called the poet. his interest in art and science is said to be sincere. he has also great personal attractiveness. in sharp contrast with him stands the grand-duke sergius, governor-general of moscow, and brother-in-law and uncle of the czar. the things commonly reported of his private life are unsuitable for repetition here, since in general i avoid giving space to scandal in a chronicle of important matters. the things worthy of publicity and important for the weal or woe of population are the opinions and abilities of princes, not their liaisons. it is difficult, however, not to speak of the passions of the grand-duke sergius, since they form such a violent contrast to his former bigotry. he is unanimously pronounced an unprincipled man with a black record--a man whose pleasure consists in the sufferings of others. his influence at court is second only to that of the grand-duke alexander mikhailovitch. i found in all russia no trace of a dynastic sentiment. the loyalty to the house of the hohenzollerns in prussia, or to the house of the hapsburgs in austria has no counterpart in russia. if the personal influence of the occupants of the throne may be estimated, the czar means to the masses of the people the essence of temporal and spiritual power, to the intelligent class an element of fate. the grand-dukes are people who can aid and harm, and who are therefore persons of importance for all russians. the bond of loyalty between dynasty and people, however, which in the west has assured the safe existence of the royal houses through all revolutionary convulsions, does not exist in russia. on the contrary, people speak freely in private of the "saltikov dynasty," in unmistakable allusion to the well-known first lover of the empress catherine ii. thus the many murders in the imperial house are received by the people without great excitement. only the inhabitants of the baltic provinces are faithful to the dynasty; the spirit of feudal loyalty runs in their german blood. even there, however, it is being slowly but resolutely destroyed by the ruling anarchists. in contemporary opinion alexander ii. and alexander iii. still live, while nicholas i. is practically forgotten. alexander ii. is surrounded with the martyr's halo, and is thought of only as the emancipating czar who was got out of the way before he could sign the liberty-giving bill for a constitution. public opinion will not be dissuaded from finding the fact remarkable that the nihilists succeeded for the first time in reaching the czar at the moment when all the privileges of the reigning oligarchy were threatened. therefore people will not remember any traits in him except good ones, a thing not altogether consistent with the picture of him left by kropotkin in his memoirs. of alexander iii., on the contrary, only evil is heard, which i, however, must doubt for many reasons. for i have been told little incidents of his most private life, incidents which i cannot repeat, out of consideration for the incognito of my informant, but which show a certain knightliness and uprightness, and a truly princely kindness to the weak. another man is answerable for the pitilessness of his fatal policy--pobydonostzev, the torquemada of russia. it is, however, inevitable that history should preserve only that picture which expresses the sum total of the effect of a personality. therefore the memory of alexander iii. is certainly overloaded with sins of omission. xxi public opinion and the press the fine imperial library in st. petersburg, which i was permitted through the kindness of our legation to use, possesses a specialty in a particular class of works, the collection of so-called "russica"--_i. e._, everything that has been written in foreign languages about russia. polite attendants, speaking various languages, assist the visitor. one learns from them that it is the business of special agents abroad to report on publications which relate to russia, and to send them in. so it happens that probably nowhere in the world is there such an accumulation of revolutionary literature as in this imperial collection. for patriotic writings are for the most part in russian, so that they may be appreciated and quickly rewarded. the semi-official literature in foreign languages is not to be compared in quantity or importance with that which true patriots are forced to their sorrow to write in foreign languages. i looked through piles of this forbidden literature. the impression i received was desperately disheartening. there is nothing which has not been said about russia. the severest and best-attested attacks on the régime, on persons, on conditions, stand there quietly, volume by volume, in the imperial library, and have had exactly as much effect as whip-strokes on water. the russian political writer who wishes to war upon the present system with the weapon of reckless criticism must lose all hope in face of this library. what more can be said than has already been said by milyukov, by lanin, by leroy-beaulieu? the voice of the prophets does not penetrate to the ears of the rulers, or, if it does, it is drowned by the whispers of parasites who know how to protect their own interests, or it finds no echo in the too weak or too hardened hearts of the rulers. i had the same sensation when, in the course of my conversations with leading persons in the service of the state, and with members of the "intelligence," i was more and more struck with the fact that in russia there is an unusually strong public opinion, which in its criticisms far transcends anything that can be said in foreign papers about russian conditions, and that this criticism makes no impression whatever upon the authorities. i was, of course, interested next in the problem as to how it could be possible without newspapers--the russian press is under the most barbarous censorship--to disseminate from st. petersburg to odessa with a truly uncanny rapidity, an almost monotonously uniform idea of all the events and personalities of the day. i confess i have not yet solved the riddle. it is only a hypothesis of mine to suppose that there are three or four centres for the formation of opinion in russia, one of which is undoubtedly to be found in the ministry itself, and another, perhaps, in the noblemen's club, or in other clubs of the intelligent classes in moscow, and that through the abundance of time which every russian allows himself for recreation, every newly coined saying or opinion is spread throughout the whole realm by letters or by word of mouth. i have heard from the lips of statesmen high in office literally the same words i have heard at the table of leo tolstoï, in yasnaya polyana, or in the study of the lawyer who gave me an interview. after i had come to terms with this fact of the absolute uniformity of public opinion, a fact not altogether gratifying to the collector of information, it was no longer possible to ignore the question as to how it is possible that such a unison of wishes and opinions meets only deaf ears in the highest circles, although it has already become a historic legend that alexander ii. was forced into the war with turkey against his will by public opinion. if public opinion at that time had so much power for evil, why does it not have power now, and power for good? an annoying question sooner or later finds an answer--whether a correct one or not remains to be seen--no doubt because the mind does not rest until it has found something plausible wherewith to quiet itself. i finally explained the matter to myself in the following way. the husband is the last to hear of the shame that his consort brings upon him. people point at him, the servants snicker, even anonymous letters flutter on his table, and still he is unsuspecting, or, at the most, is disturbed without definitely knowing why. there is, except in the case of treachery, which is extremely rare, or the taking in the act, which is still rarer, only one possibility of enlightenment for him--namely, that a very intimate friend or a near relative shall play the part of the ruthless physician, and supply evidences which are irrefutable. an autocrat is hardly less interested in the credit of his system than a husband in the reputation of his wife. this system is apparently identical with his personality. he bears all the responsibility. he has reason for the most far-reaching suspicion of all who approach him, because he seldom sees any one who does not wish something of him. who, then, has the courage, the credit, and the means to approach the czar, and to tell him the truth concerning what goes on about him and is done in his name? a near friend? that would have to be a foreign monarch. it is well known how carefully kings avoid seeming to advise, especially when the excessively proud russian dynasty is in question. what other monarch, moreover, must not consider his own interests, which cannot be identical with those of russia? the german emperor perhaps least of all. unfortunately, however, the relations between william ii. and nicholas ii. are none of the most intimate. indeed, nicholas openly shuns too frequent intercourse with emperor william, and prefers when he is in germany to play tennis with his brother-in-law of hesse. there remains, then, only near relatives. they, indeed, are much in evidence, and they have the czar entirely under their influence. they are public opinion for him; and as long as they have no interest in placing themselves on the side of the opposition, so long, according to physico-psychological laws, will the voice of the real public opinion decrease in proportion to the square of the approach to the czar; and all anonymous or unauthorized enlightenments and memorials by patriots who willingly make themselves victims will make no more than a momentary impression. the public opinion which forced the czar alexander ii. into the war with turkey was the opinion of the belligerent grand-dukes; the public opinion which rules the present czar and thereby prevents the counsels of the opposition from having a hearing is again that of the grand-dukes, who move only in the narrowest court circles and in those of the reactionary bureaucracy. the czar knows this, but he cannot help himself. he has just now had a new experience of it, when those about him made him firmly believe that the japanese affair was well on the way towards a peaceful settlement, while at the same time, by dilatory tactics and constant preparations, they provoked the japanese to declare war. there is only one possible position for an intelligent ruler who seeks to secure veracious information. that is to institute a free press and an independent parliament. to be sure, both press and parliament may be led astray, and lead astray. it is unquestionably easier to find one's way in a few reports of the highest counsellors than in the chaotic confusion of voices of unmuzzled newspaper writers and members of parliament, among whom, it cannot be denied, conscienceless demagogues find place only too quickly. but he who bears such heavy responsibility should not avoid difficulties; and there is absolutely no other means of gaining a hearing for the truth than by the free utterance of every criticism. finally, one learns to read and to hear, and comes to distinguish between real arguments and those of demagogues. no one outside the country can form a conception of how the russian press and the elements of parliamentary institutions are oppressed by the camorra of officials. the zemstvo of the province of tver, which had the effrontery to entertain wishes for a constitution, was dissolved; and this is the least that happens in such cases. the persecution of the persons who are under suspicion of exerting especial influence upon their fellows--this is the evil. they are surprised by night, and in the most fortunate cases are held in prison for months during investigations. in other cases, when the search shows that the smallest bit of forbidden literature was in the hands of the suspected man, his exile to a distant province or to siberia is a matter of course. these things, however, are unfortunately only too well known. what is not so well known is the way editors are treated who presume to wish to edit a sheet or who draw upon themselves as editors the displeasure of the police. the head censor in st. petersburg, chief of the highest bureau of the press, is a certain zvyerev, a former liberal professor in the university of moscow. renegades are always the worst. since zvyerev has been censor the restrictions of the russian press have been severer than ever. i became acquainted with the former editor-in-chief of a great paper, who sketched for me the examination he underwent before permission was granted him to edit a paper under censorship. there are, i should explain, two sorts of papers in russia. the first are those which appear ostensibly without censorship, at their own risk, and at the slightest slip are simply suppressed. it is easy to guess how ready people are to invest in such enterprises. those of the second sort are papers under censorship, which are submitted to the censor before they appear, and through his oversight receive a certain protection, not, to be sure, of a very far-reaching kind. this, however, is the only method by which any capital can be secured; and without capital to-day the founding of a paper is an impossibility. ivan mikhailitch golitzyn, then, wishes to start a paper, has taken all preparatory steps, has procured capital and valuable testimonials, and appears now before the mighty zvyerev to request the final license. zvyerev is a snob and bows to a great name. therefore he cannot immediately say no, for the candidate has taken care to obtain testimonials from the most prominent people. therefore the following dialogue ensues: "ivan mikhailitch, i know you and your family. you are a russian noble, and as such are called upon to protect the interests of our emperor and of the church. there is also nothing to be said against your patrons. but you yourself, ever since your student days, have been under suspicion of harboring western ideas. your associations also are not entirely above suspicion. i am informed that you associate with jews." "your excellency knows that my paper is to stand for progress, which certainly is not forbidden, and if jews are among my acquaintances, it would be unchristian to insult them by turning my back on them." "yes, that is all very well. but i should like to know whether you will oppose the impertinences of the jews with the necessary vigor?" "your excellency will perceive that a paper which stands for progress cannot attack the jews without good reason. but, on the other hand, it cannot be philo-semitic, for our mercantile class would not advertise, on account of their anti-semitic feeling, and the paper could not continue." "will your paper support the absurd efforts which are being made towards the introduction of a constitution?" "we will concern ourselves only with practical questions. the introduction of a constitution does not belong to these." "but if one of your editors should make an attempt to enter upon the discussion of this question, would you permit it?" "my editors know the programme and will not attempt any disloyalty to it. but should the case occur, it would be my duty to protect the integrity of the programme." "ivan mikhailitch, you are a clever man and know how to make evasive answers. i cannot refuse you a license. but i warn you! and beware of the jews. that is the first duty of a russian nobleman to-day." that is the conversation which has certainly been carried on more than once in zvyerev's office before the founding of a paper. in striking agreement with it is the scene which struve reports in his _osvobozhdenie_, when, after the suppression of a paper, the editor presents himself because his license has been taken away unjustly. again, take the case of a moscow paper which has published a poem delivered at the time of a public festival, but in which the author had afterwards made some changes. the paper--i do not remember its name--was suppressed. the publisher or the editor, who is likewise said to have been a russian noble, went to st. petersburg, and objected that, as his paper appeared under censorship, if any one was to blame it was the censor who had let this poem pass. zvyerev, however, showed plainly that latter-day tendencies did not please him, and that he only wanted an excuse for taking measures against the paper. of course such measures mean, under some circumstances, financial ruin; in any case, severe injury to all the contributors. therefore suppression of the license is an unusually effective means of pressure to bring to bear against the convictions of editors. in this case pressure of such a monstrous kind was attempted as it is to be hoped stands alone in the chapter of censor-tyranny. the editor was told in plain words, by zvyerev, that he might permit it to be stated that the poem had been smuggled into the paper behind his back by the jews, and that the minister of the interior would at once grant a license for the reappearance of the paper. the editor, of course, refused the demand, and a new page was added to the book of russian infamy. zvyerev is still in office as a worthy assistant to his minister, plehve. the oppression of independent-minded organs is, however, not the only expedient of russian policy in regard to the press. its antithesis is not absent--official support of the revolutionary and provincial press. russia rejoices in one journal which has not its equal in untruthfulness and diabolical baseness in the whole world, the _novoye vremya_. this panslavic sheet, which is ready to eat all germans and jews alive, and which finds no lie too infamous, no invention too childish to serve up to its readers, if only their prejudices are tickled, is openly supported by the russian government. it therefore contains an incomparably greater amount of news than any other, has consequently the most subscribers, and can pay its contributors and correspondents the best, so that every one who wants to read a paper with plenty of news has to take this noble organ. i found it everywhere in russian houses, and if i asked the master of the house his opinion of it, the answer was everywhere the same: "infamous, but indispensable." it is, then, carefully seen that in russia, as elsewhere, emperors--and other people--do not hear the truth. the autocracy, or rather bureaucracy, surrounds itself with bulwarks which nothing can penetrate. it will need an earthquake to make a breach. this earthquake is, indeed, according to the common opinion of all thinking russians, nearer than is generally supposed. it is the financial breaking-up of a system now held together only by foreign loans. xxii some realities of the legal profession at a social gathering which i must not describe because i do not wish to make it recognizable, i had an unusual privilege. we were drinking tea and talking--politics, of course, for no one any longer talks of anything else in russia--when the door opened and a tall and very stately couple entered. a general exclamation hailed the new arrivals. they were welcomed with striking heartiness and invited to the table, as people who had returned from a long journey. when introduced to them i, of course, did not understand their names, and contented myself with enjoying the handsome appearance and elegance of the gentleman as well as of the lady until i could ask my neighbor at table why these people were welcomed with such surprising warmth. "he has just come out of prison," was the hastily whispered reply. the communication had such an effect that i was unable to finish the meal. it is not a usual thing for a western european to sit among the guests of a prominent family with people who have just been discharged from prison. moreover, among us, culprits do not look like this uncommonly handsome pair. finally, it is not customary with us to receive with such heartiness people who have just discarded prison shackles. i therefore asked for the name and crime of the new-comer. i was told, and at once i understood everything. this courtly gentleman was a russian noble and a prominent lawyer. at my request he related in german his prison experiences. he had, it seems, been arrested at night and immediately incarcerated. his wife had taken the children out of bed, because even the beds had to be searched for forbidden literature, and the like. the pretext for this night visit of the police had been that the lawyer had been informed against as having given shelter to a political fugitive. for this reason search was made even in the cradle of the smallest child, in order to make sure that the criminal was not hidden there. the true ground, however, was that mr. von x----, as a lawyer, defended political criminals and must be dealt with accordingly. eleven days were spent in examining him. the search of the house revealed nothing; for only the most reckless have a trace of forbidden literature in their houses, although struve's _osvobozhdenie_[ ] is read almost everywhere. no other accusation could be brought against a man so highly honored. he was also not altogether without means of defence in his large clientage. his case had caused a great sensation. the outbreak of the russo-japanese war had, however, caused the authorities to content themselves with treating him to the pleasures of a short residence in a police hole, and they refrained for the time being from exiling or banishing him from the place of his practice--an experience which might easily enough happen after a much longer investigation to lawyers less noted or of lower rank. after this little incident, noteworthy enough to a foreigner, i became much interested in the troubles of lawyers, and obtained the amplest information on the subject. i even incidentally made the acquaintance of one of the officially disciplined lawyers of kishinef, but was unable to converse with him, as he spoke no language other than russian. he was a vigorous man, rather young, with heavy, dark hair and beard, and of a distinctively russian type. as the son of a priest, he ought to have had, according to the ideas of people of discretion, something better to do than to interfere with the programme of the government. but dr. lokoloff, the lawyer in question, is a remarkable man. he believes it to be an advocate's duty to uphold justice; and he absolutely refused to admit that justice in russia is a matter of politics. i managed to learn more about the proceedings against dr. lokoloff from a well-informed colleague of his whose name i, of course, may not disclose. since the simple recital of such a case is more instructive than whole volumes of generalizations, i will give it in detail as related to me. i may, however, promise that the case is by no means the worst i have heard of, as the government takes much severer measures to terrorize lawyers and to prevent them from defending "politically inconvenient" persons. the case of lokoloff, moreover, calls for more detailed treatment because the massacre perpetrated at kishinef, in the name of the czar, has at last drawn public attention to the conditions in his dominions. the participation of the government organs in the "pogrom" of kishinef was exposed by another lawyer, dr. paul n. von pereverseff, who expiated his accusation with exile to archangel, where he and his wife now live in a village, while his children are being sheltered by relatives. pereverseff had gone to kishinef after the disturbances, and had there made the acquaintance of pronin, krushevan, stefanoff, and baron levendahl, at that time in command of the gendarmes at kishinef. since he came as counsel for the accused, and was a russian nobleman above suspicion, he at once enjoyed the confidence of these honest men. thus he learned that pronin, the colleague of krushevan and the protégé of plehve, in his character of member of the committee for poor culprits, gave exact instructions to the prisoners how they should speak in the legal proceedings. pereverseff soon became convinced that the chief culprit--namely, plehve, who had planned to administer punishment to the jews, and to present a new accusation against them to the czar, would not appear at the bar. instead there would appear only the poor wretches who had been directed to plunder and kill the jews by order of the czar. dr. lokoloff arrived at kishinef in may, , as advocate for the injured parties, and learned there from pereverseff what the latter had already discovered. he then made a personal investigation extending over several months, in the course of which he discovered also that the "pogrom" of the police and of baron levendahl had been instigated by direct orders from higher authorities. he gave expression to this conviction in the course of the proceedings, and was, in consequence, imprisoned on an order telegraphed direct from the minister of the interior to prince urussoff, the governor, on december , . on the day following the despatch of the telegram a letter from plehve reached prince urussoff, in which the former desired that the proceedings of lokoloff in kishinef be immediately reported and his exile to the north decreed. prince urussoff himself visited lokoloff in prison, and made him acquainted with plehve's message, whereupon lokoloff wrote a protocol in answer to four charges based upon data furnished by the gendarmes, as follows (the accusation is given first and is followed by lokoloff's answer): "i. it is asserted that you have come to kishinef in a professional capacity, with the ostensible purpose of affording legal assistance to the injured parties, but in reality to carry on, in conjunction with other persons whose activity in opposition to the government is well known, a private investigation parallel with the legal one, to incite the jews to make biased statements, serviceable to the purposes of the opposition, and to bring forward groundless complaints. "_answer._ yes, i have carried on an investigation, and in so doing have only discharged my duty. it is not forbidden in our country to conduct investigation openly or secretly. my course of action was dictated solely by the interests of my clients and the inadequate official investigation. very rich men took part in the disturbances; but the official investigation detected only _poor_ ones as the accused. the interests of the injured persons, however, demand that the _rich_ culprits also be brought to justice. the investigation made by me was no secret. the governor, the state attorney, the court of appeal, and the county court knew of it; and i received my information in regard to the disturbances from inhabitants of the city. in order to secure this information, i questioned many hundreds of people who had been witnesses of the disturbances. my offices were in special rooms, which were known to the police. the assertion that the testimony was biased and false is itself false. "ii. you have deliberately spread false assertions in order to discredit the local authorities in the eyes of the government. "_answer._ i have never deliberately spread false assertions in order to discredit the local authorities in the eyes of the government. "iii. you have made use of your official position as counsel to publish information concerning proceedings in closed sessions, including the deliberately false assertion that in the legal process the connivance of the authorities in the organization of the disturbances, with the help of the authorities and of the troops, was proved. "_answer._ i have never said that the disturbances were organized by the government. but from very exact statements of witnesses, i consider it proved that the disturbances were organized with the help of very many official persons--as, for instance, baron levendahl. [here followed an exact statement of the details of the action of levendahl, which space will not permit me to give.] the judge during the investigation, freynat, himself acknowledged to me that the leaders of the incendiaries were agents of levendahl. i myself demanded the attendance of judge freynat as a witness to this. he was called, but not until after all the lawyers had been excluded! "the agents of levendahl, who were imprisoned with the murderers, were set free in the course of a few days, as is testified to by witnesses. "iv. you are in very intimate relations with persons who belong to the radical opposition. these persons are dr. doroshevsky and miss nemtzeva. "_answer._ relations are not forbidden. i made the acquaintance of dr. doroshevsky and miss nemtzeva only because they took part in the 'pogrom,' to the extent of saving many jews. miss vera nemtzeva is, moreover, the daughter of a respected proprietor." lokoloff wrote to the governor from prison to the effect that the accusations were groundless, and that he was not guilty. on the receipt of this letter prince urussoff visited him in his cell and admitted that, in his judgment, lokoloff was, in fact, wrongfully imprisoned. the imprisonment, however, had been in obedience to an order from the minister of the interior. the prince showed lokoloff a copy of a letter which he had sent to plehve. this letter stated that according to prince urussoff's interpretation of the law the action of lokoloff did not constitute a crime, and that therefore he could not order his banishment to the north, but that lokoloff was "fanatically convinced" that the "pogrom" had been organized with the connivance of the authorities, and that he had unconsciously imparted this conviction to those with whom he came in contact. therefore his residence in kishinef must be considered dangerous. after some days urussoff received a telegram from plehve directing that lokoloff be liberated and that he be expelled from kishinef. plehve's order was communicated by the governor to lokoloff, who expressed his astonishment that he should be expelled from kishinef, while pronin, who in urussoff's own opinion was one of the chief offenders, was allowed to remain. this order, he added, would not tend to a feeling of confidence in justice in bessarabia. as a matter of fact, the expulsion of lokoloff was generally looked upon as fresh evidence of the complicity of the government in the disturbances. no one in kishinef now knows anything more about the affair. pereverseff, who had directly attacked the government, was severely punished and banished; lokoloff was expelled. "all quiet in schepko street." of course the members of the legal profession in russia do not regard the matter with indifference. at a meeting of the association of lawyers' assistants the sympathy of those present was extended to lokoloff; and at the monthly banquet of the literary alliance at st. petersburg the members even went so far as to express its disapprobation of the action of the government in the affair. the minister of justice, muraviev, however, the worthy colleague of plehve, explained to a deputation of lawyers which congratulated him on his jubilee in january last, that he was favorably disposed towards the profession, but that advocates would do well to _avoid "pleading politically," since it was very prejudicial, indeed dangerous, to the profession, which might easily suffer for its independence._ a word to the wise, etc. such are the joys of the legal profession in russia, and such is the fate of those who speak in defence of the right. the people of other countries will appreciate the services to truth and justice which, in spite of all obstacles, the undaunted advocate performs. such are some of the stern realities of an advocate's life in russia, and such the possible, nay probable, fate of any one who "pleads politically" in defence of the right. it will be apparent to the citizens of other countries at what a cost the conscientious members of the legal profession discharge, in spite of endless obstacles, their duty to truth and justice. footnote: [ ] liberation. xxiii the student body in russia not very long after the dismissal of the former minister of education, sänger, i sought out a certain university professor who had been mentioned to me as being accurately informed about university affairs. of course, my visit to him had been carefully planned, for it is not possible in russia for a person--least of all if he be an official--to express himself freely to strangers. the information which i received from this authority on the general political and economic position of russia agreed with the discussions i had heard on every side. misery, despair, inevitable collapse, these were the words which were most noticeable in his description, too, and it would be almost superfluous for one to reproduce the conversation unless certain additional details had been brought out which are particularly characteristic of the intense ferment in which intellectual russia is at just this time involved. just previously several students had been arrested. i asked about the cause of the arrest and the probable fate of the young folks. a demonstration in favor of the japanese had been held by the students, and had been reported. this was the cause of the arrest. "as yet nothing can be said about the fate of the incautious young men," the professor answered. "you say that the students held a demonstration for the japanese? it is scarcely credible!" "and yet it is true. all enlightened people, and accordingly the students, too, regard the japanese as an unexpected ally in their fight against the existing conditions, and so sympathy for them is not concealed. and, besides, aversion to them as a nation does not exist." "but it is the very brothers and fellow-countrymen of the students who must pay for it with their own blood if the japanese retain the upper hand!" "that is partially true. but, first of all, poles, jews, and armenians have been sent to the seat of war, so that the russian families do not as yet feel the war so keenly; and then the russian is used to the idea that there must be bloody sacrifices for the cause of freedom. at any rate, those who were arrested are much nearer the other students than the troops who have gone to the front." "but they challenged their fate!" "that is a part of the fight against the régime. they seek martyrdom, since they have become convinced that nothing can be attained by bare protests and petitions. perhaps a trace of asiatic fatalism, and a lower valuation upon life than is given it in the west, plays a part in their acts, but, more powerful than all else probably, their conviction that public opinion appreciates their sacrifices and approves of their conduct." "then ambition is also an influence?" "if you care to call it so. there is a little ambition in every martyrdom. but the strongest motive is that youthful self-sacrifice, and the belief that something can be attained for the cause by their offering themselves up--in short, fanaticism. in this way some of the most incredible things occur; for example, a student in prison emptied an oil lamp over his body and set fire to it only in order to protest against absolutism." "i have heard this horrible story." "those who are now under arrest," the professor continued, "will probably most of them soon be let free, for i do not believe that the authorities have at present any desire to raise much of a storm. but as many of them as are jews will in all probability be more severely punished, if only for statistical reasons." "i understand." "oh yes. you know that the police have their special code for the jews, so as to prove that the discontent is entirely due to them. plehve asserts that he has forty thousand political indictments, eighty per cent. of the indicted being jews. that is made up to suit themselves, and has nothing to do with turbulence. on the other hand, i dare say, that quite often just for this statistical reason, and because the jews are punished quite differently from the sons of distinguished families, the jews are urged by their congeners not to expose themselves; but they, too, are of course infected by the general fanaticism of self-sacrifice." "but from what do the special student disturbances about which we hear so much proceed? are they not caused by troubles in the universities?" "only in the very rarest cases. it is occurrences of general politics which find a particularly lively echo among the students; the reforms which are demanded for the university by us, the professors, are even repudiated by the students, because they do not wish to let the causes of their discontent be removed." "what is the nature of the reforms in question?" "general wannowski, former minister of education, was perhaps a man of limited capacity, who considered the university a barracks, the professors colonels and other officers, the students privates, and explained that the only thing lacking was non-commissioned officers to keep their respective squads in order. still he showed us the consideration of asking us eighteen questions which were to be answered by the faculties. look here"--the professor pointed to a heavy bundle of printed matter--"here you have the results of our inquest." "and what is the substance of your wishes, to put it into a very few words?" "one word is sufficient, 'autonomy.' we want independence in teaching, 'lehrfreiheit' as it is in germany, independent regulation of our own affairs, and liberation from the direction of another department which has neither interest in us nor understanding of us. this demand was unanimously expressed by all the universities; in moscow only two professors in the whole faculty declared themselves for the prevalent system." "was anything accomplished by this inquest?" "to a slight extent. we obtained a university court, constituted of professors, and the permission to form scientific societies among the students." "that is not so bad. and you say that the students are not in sympathy with that?" "no, they are afraid that discontent may be lessened by these concessions, and they wish to be discontented until they have accomplished everything." "what do you mean by 'everything'?" "a constitution and freedom of the press. they do not even use the right to form scientific societies. _at present there is no studying done at our universities_; politics have swallowed up everything, and the radical element has seized the leadership completely. they hope in a few months, by means of demonstrations, and heaven knows what fateful resources, to attain a constitution, and after that there will always be time enough for study. at present, study, too, would be treason against the cause of freedom. the universities are only political camps awaiting the call to arms and nothing more." "but in this respect, at least, they must be glad of their independent university courts--that is, that at any rate they punish their youthful misdeeds more leniently than the police." "no. in the first place, it is only disciplinary matters over which our court has jurisdiction; and then, in the second place, you forget that the students do not at all want to be mildly treated, but to be sacrificed." "of course. it is hard to reckon with motives that one scarcely understands. but one thing is still unintelligible to me. it cannot exactly be said that russia is a radical country in the sense that the whole upper stratum is radical. how is it that the student body, which comes principally from this upper stratum, is so laden with revolutionary tendencies?" "i might answer you in a french phrase, although it is not particularly flattering to us, 'le russe est liberal jusqu'à trente ans, et après--canaille.'[ ] the russian is absolutely _not_ conservative, not even the official. he can mock conservatism while seeking office, but in his own house he remains a free-thinker, and youth, which has not yet learned to cringe and hedge, blushes at the two-facedness of its parentage, and continually reveals the true attitude of the house. then, with the exception of the high nobility, our whole landowner class is more than liberal. moreover, from two to three hundred conservative students are to be found at each of the great universities, and they have formed a secret association for the protection of the _sacred régime_--and it is characteristic that the _novoye vremya_ was allowed to print the call to form this secret society, although here in russia all secret societies are illegal." "and are not these conservative students dangerous to their fellows?" "up to the present they have confined themselves to patriotic demonstrations. they might become dangerous if they once decided to go to lectures--not even then to their fellow-students, but to the professors, who have greater doctrinal freedom, and who also make use of the right to express their opinions, of course within the limits of their special subjects. [shortly after this interview a professor in kharkov who had expressed sympathy for the japanese was actually informed against by the conservative students and disciplined by the authorities, a thing which led to great student demonstrations.] moreover, there are special spies which keep watch over the professors and students, but luckily they are too illiterate to understand the import of what is said, and therefore can do little damage." "are the professors sufficiently in sympathy with each other for the formation of a university esprit de corps?" "most certainly. the common suffering, the fact that they are forbidden to take open part in politics draw them together. where in other places rivalries and differences of opinion occasion dissensions, here there is to be found only one solid whole--oppression is the firm cement. and only in this way is it possible to make some resistance to the absolutism of the police. in _open_ resistance we are quite weak, yes, even defenceless, against the brutality of the régime, but in _passive_ resistance we are almost unconquerable because of our close contact with each other." "ah! and so here there is brought to my attention one of those subterranean sources of public opinion in russia, which i have so long sought." "of course. the universities form at least one of the main channels." "and you consider the next generation to be thoroughly impregnated with ideas of independence?" "thoroughly." to the question with which i always parted from my authorities--that is, what he believed the immediate future contained for russia--this professor, whose department i am not at liberty to indicate, but of whom i can say that he is particularly well informed, gave the following answer: "we are exhausted. the transition to the financing of railroads, tariff legislation, the tightening of screws of taxation bring in money for a while, but no real power. we are on the brink of a crisis. i believe that the war will greatly accelerate and force us to discount our coupons.[ ] then, in my opinion, it cannot be long before a sort of national assembly is called. this is my belief and my hope. conditions of excitement like the present ones at our universities cannot be long endured under any circumstances. in one way or another a change must take place, and we must hold fast to the hope of better things." footnotes: [ ] the russian is liberal until his thirtieth year--and then he joins the rabble. [ ] den coupon zu kürzen. xxiv before the catastrophe[ ] "if you wish to have a striking evidence of the worth of our government, you need notice only one thing," said an entirely unprejudiced russian to me one day. "we have as many questions as we have classes of population. we have a finnish question, a polish, a jewish, a ruthenian, and a caucasian question. we have, besides, a peasant question, a labor question, and a sectarian question, and, moreover, a student question also. wherever you cut into the conglomerate of the russian population, lengthwise or crosswise, everywhere you strike conflicts, combustibles, and tension. not a single one of the problems which may exist in organized states in general is solved, but every one has been made burning and dangerous through unskilful, brutal, and even malicious handling." the man who spoke in this way was not a liberal, but a conservative aristocrat in the state service. i had reserved him for the end in my journey of research. after i had had conversations with high officials in the departments of education and of finance, with men like prince ukhtomski, with bankers and with lawyers, and had heard always the same story of the instability of things and the worthlessness of the régime, i turned to the friends who by their influence had smoothed the way for me everywhere, and said to them: "this cannot go on. i did not come to russia merely to be shot, as it were, out of a pneumatic tube through a collection of liberal and radical malcontents. i do not wish to hear merely the opposition in russia. you must gain access for me to some prominent conservative also, one who stands on the basis of the present system, and who honestly and in good faith defends it. it need not be suvorin or any other man of questionable honor, for i myself can apply stahl's theories to russian conditions. it must be a sincere, reputable, and sensible man with whom i can discuss the most widely different questions with or without an interpreter; either is the same to me." my request was readily granted. a scholar admired almost to the point of worship, in whose house i had been entertained, gave me a letter to the conservative aristocrat whose words i have quoted at the beginning of this paper. this letter i forwarded to the honorable gentleman in question, asking for an interview, and by return mail i received a reply stating that he would expect me that same afternoon. i must confess that i anticipated this interview with some qualms. it was towards the end of my visit. the results hitherto obtained had the disadvantage of a certain monotony of sombreness, with, however, the advantage also that each succeeding interview only strengthened the impression gained from previous ones. thus by degrees i had formed a very sharply defined image of russian conditions--such an image as is pictured in the mind of the thinking russian. was this clear and distinct image now to be dispelled by the lye of this conservative critic, and was i to lose the chief result of my journey, a confidence in the trustworthiness of the data hitherto accumulated? i met the gentleman at his house at the appointed time, and learned at once that i had been especially commended to him. i therefore entered without hesitation upon the matter in which i was interested. "i do not wish," i began, "to go through russia in blinders. if your excellency, as a conservative, will have the goodness to refute what i have heard hitherto, and will give me more accurate information, i shall be under great obligation." "what have you heard?" asked the count. "that russia is starving, while the papers report a surplus in the treasury." "that, unfortunately, is true." "that your thinking people are in despair." "also true." "that a revival of the reign of terror is to be feared." "equally true." "that all russia hopes the war will be lost, because only in that way can the present state of things be brought to an end." "true again." "that the present régime passes all bounds of depravity, and can be compared only with the prætorian rule in the period of the decline of rome." "that understates the truth." my face must have taken on a very strange expression during this brisk play of question and answer, for the count now took the initiative, and said: "you are, i can see, surprised that i, as a conservative and a state official, should answer in this way; but i hope you do not consider 'conservative' and 'infamous' synonymous terms. if you do not, you will not expect me to approve the régime of plehve. that is not a conservative régime. it is the régime of hell founded by a devil at the head of the most important department." (here came the speech with which this paper began.) the count then proceeded: "do not suppose that russia is of necessity smitten with such serious problems. these questions are nowhere simpler than with us. we have no national problems like those of prussia, for instance, or of austria-hungary, which are complicated by the fact that majorities and minorities are mixed together almost beyond separation. we have even in poland almost no national aspirations regarding which we could not come to a peaceable understanding. our nationalities live almost entirely distinct, in compact bodies side by side; even the finns are politically separate. it would be an easy thing to make them all contented under just maintenance of the supremacy of the czar. but the priestlike intolerance of pobydonostzev has spread the idea in the world that all diversities of religion and speech must be ironed out with a hot flat-iron, even at the risk of singeing heads. since then it is considered patriotic to repress men and convictions. for this business unclean creatures are to be found who make careers for themselves in this way; and their prototype is the tenfold renegade plehve." "yet i cannot conceal my astonishment, your excellency, that you, as a conservative, have this opinion of the system of pobydonostzev." "why is that so illogical? conservative thought is, above all, that of organic development. all violence is revolutionary in its essence, whether it serves reactionary or republican tendencies. the system of pobydonostzev is revolutionary and reactionary. in his fashion plehve, however, is simply a monstrous bill of extortion against the czar as well as against the shackled nation." "your excellency of course refers to the idea that plehve intimidates the czar by threats of revolution?" "that is not an idea simply; it is a fact, of which we have very definite information. but what not every one knows is the fact that we have no one but plehve to thank for this war, which may be a catastrophe. he had a finger in all the manoeuvres of delay which provoked the japanese to war, because he believed that he could no longer preserve himself in any other way than by diverting public attention from conditions in the interior, and by ridding himself of those who were dissatisfied with him into the bargain." "how the latter?" "you do not know? it is very simple. the first men who were sent to asia were the poles, the jews, and the armenians. among our troops the poles were five times as largely represented, and the jews even more so, than they should have been according to their census number. and you must search to discover a christian among the reserve surgeons. why is this the case? to get rid of the most important elements of the malcontents for years, perhaps forever. of course, the poles, the jews, and the ruthenians have the most cause for discontent. meanwhile there is peace at home." "not to a remarkable extent, i observe." "wait. the students, who are so incautious in airing their ideas, will come to know the east." "your excellency, no radical has spoken like this." "i can well understand that. the honorable radicals have much less cause to be dissatisfied with this rule of banditti, for it sends the water to their mills. but a conservative like myself sees with horror that all the foundations of the conservative order of things are undermined, and that we are approaching exactly the same convulsions that france experienced after the spontaneous downfall of her absolute monarchy." "in what respect, then, does your excellency distinguish yourself as a conservative from the so-called liberals? certainly not in criticism?" "i will explain. the liberals are girondists, with their ideas adopted from cahier and rousseau. minister turgot was a conservative, who wished to save the monarchy by trying to make an end of the loose management of favorites. we conservatives do not believe in a constitution or a parliament as the only means of salvation. we russians are anything but ripe for that. it is a question if any people of the continent, untrained in english self-government, are ripe for it. we look to the czar for salvation, and to the czar alone." "prince ukhtomski says much the same thing. he does not speak of liberal or conservative, but only of an intelligent party in russia, and he believes that an able minister could save the whole situation." "i do not believe that for an instant. for, under the present circumstances, an able and honest minister cannot remain at court. there is only one salvation--a czar who is so educated for his task of ruling that he is not the plaything of a circle of courtiers, like our present good emperor." "i have heard a saying of pobydonostzev, 'autocracy is good, but it involves an autocrat.'" "certainly; even if it were not pobydonostzev's opinion. for brutality alone certainly will not do. we must have knowledge of the subject and strength of will." "then the future must look very black to your excellency, if you await salvation from a new and better-trained czar. at present there is not even a prospect of a successor to the throne." "it looks black enough. i have no hope at all. for what is hope to others is to me new ground for sorrow. we shall be defeated in asia. we shall have a financial crash--_i. e._, our long-existent bankruptcy can no longer be veiled by juggling with the budget; and then we shall have a repetition of the old game of revolutions and constitutions. some western ideas on constitution-making will be imported and will not work. there will come a reaction, and the hand of every man will be against every other...." "then your excellency is opposed to the freedom of the press?" "god forbid! a conservative régime is far from being a police régime. we must have a public opinion and a respectable press, and a press without freedom cannot be respectable. a press which is under strict laws but not under police tyranny, and an honorable government, can both be brought about more easily under an absolute monarchy than under parliamentary rule; but there will be no question of all this." "i find hardly any essential difference between the ideas your excellency represents and those i have been hearing for months in russia." "you cannot wonder at that. if you should ask me whether the snow out-of-doors is white or green, i also, as a conservative, can only answer that it is white. we are in a bad way; our peasantry is starving, our thinking class is in despair, our finances are ravaged. yet i believe that far more evil days are before us, and i thank god that i am an old man who has seen the worst." so ended my interview with the conservative, whom i had sought out for the correction of the radical views i had heard. in the evening i had to make a report to my friends, who had waited it in suspense. my information created an immense sensation. something entirely different from the interview had been expected, and there was astonishment at hearing views as bitter as any one present could have formulated. had he permitted me to publish the conversation with his name? "the conversation, but not his name," i answered. a general "aha!" went up from all present. "that is the way with our chinovniks," remarked some one; "in a tête-à-tête they are all liberal, and as soon as they are on the retired list they are all radical." "i beg pardon. count x---- spoke with decision against a constitution, therefore he is not a liberal." "we must beg of you," came in an almost unanimous chorus, "for heaven's sake, not to adopt this view and represent it abroad. it would be the greatest misfortune that could happen to us if the outer world should believe that we really are not ripe for a constitution. we do not need an english or a belgian constitution, to be sure, but a free parliament and a free press we do need. otherwise there is no reliance to be placed upon any reform, and the farther from the centre the more asiatic will be the rule of the satraps." "my duty is to report and not to judge," said i, dryly. "i owe it to my authority to reproduce his views as he gave them to me. the only thing that i can do is to add your criticism to my report." they were satisfied with this offer; and in accordance therewith i have reproduced the interview. footnote: [ ] an interview with a russian conservative. xxv sectarians and socialists i was taken one day to see a young russian nobleman who was making a special study of the nature of sects. we drove to the outermost skirts of moscow and stopped before a small palace. my companion, another young boyar, spoke to the servants, and after a few minutes we were conducted up a broad marble staircase to the first floor, where a suite of rooms furnished in extremely modern style opened out before us. i remarked to my companion that, after all, there really are no boundaries between countries, for this little palace with its very modern interior might just as well have been in paris or london as here in moscow. instead of answering, the boyar motioned towards the ikon which hung in a corner. modern furnishings, a bookcase filled with the most modern philosophical literature, and above it the orthodox ikon--we were in moscow, after all. the master of the house came in and embraced and kissed his friend. i was introduced, and we shook hands. cigarettes were lighted, and without further formalities the young host took some manuscripts from a shelf and began to give me a private reading. my companion helped out when the reader's vocabulary failed him. it is thus that i am in a position to give from my notes the following excerpts from a work which cannot be printed in russia, because it deals with the forbidden subject of the character of sects in a fashion not entirely acceptable to the censor. the significance of sects in the inner structure of russian life is best shown by some figures which give approximately their membership. in the year about ten million raskolniks (non-conformists) were counted; in , fourteen million; in , twenty million; and to-day they number thirty million. these non-conformists not only do not belong to the orthodox church, but stand in hostility to the state, which identifies itself with the orthodox church. the sects are constantly increasing in number, and there is no doubt whatever that they answer much better to the religious needs of the russian people than the state church, just as they already comprise what is morally the best part of the nation. the sects interested me less in themselves--although every expression of the human instinct of faith is of psychological interest--than in their bearing on the question as to how far they are united to form a revolutionary army which could disarm and overthrow the autocracy and then take in hand the new order of things. i tried to inform myself on this point from my attractive host's reading. i also asked about it directly. the answers i received have no room for expectation of a revolutionary organization in the near future. according to them deliverance cannot come from below. absolution no longer has the masses in hand, but it is at least able to prevent any general, all-inclusive organization of the dissatisfied; and the thinking class in the opposition to the government did not find the way to the people until the most recent times. only within the last few years has it been reported that the peasantry is beginning to show symptoms of unusual fermentation, the authors of which are unknown. the government does what it can. it has spent nine million rubles for the strengthening of the provincial mounted police. according to the accepted view the sects arose because patriarch nikon wished to have the sacred writings and books of ritual then in use, in which textual errors were to be found, replaced by texts carefully revised according to the originals. the clergy, however, clinging to the old routine, opposed this. when the great council of may , , declared itself in favor of nikon's proposed reform, the division became complete. from that time forward the opposition of "old believers" (starovertzy) became the heart of all popular movements against the imperial power. my host represented a different shade of opinion. according to his idea, the sects arose with the introduction of christianity, and they represent the opposition of the simple paganism of the people to the complicated casuistry of the byzantine church. until the fourteenth century, he thinks, the church tried to keep with the sectarians, and suffered the procession to go according to the old pagan usage, with the sun instead of against it. since the fourteenth century, however, the church has identified itself with the power of the state. from this time dates the hostility of the sects to the government. nevertheless, until the seventeenth century, local gods were tolerated as patron saints. but when bishop mascarius issued a list of the saints recognized by the state, the quarrel with sects which clung to their own saints was made eternal. since that time the sectarians have not troubled themselves at all with the official religious literature. they print their own books on secret presses. sectarianism really represents, therefore, in the first place, the national opposition of the russians to byzantium; next, the opposition to st. petersburg, and especially to peter the great, who was and is regarded as antichrist. but side by side with these nationalistic religious sects, and far in advance of them, have grown up mystically rationalistic ones also. some of these, going back to early christian ideas, refuse to bear arms and to take oath in court, like the german anabaptists, nazarenes, and baptists. others oppose the church on mere grounds of judgment, and lead a life regulated according to the teachings of pure reason. the old believers, after long and terrible martyrdoms in which their priests were burned or otherwise executed, and after a sort of recantation, finally came to an understanding with the state and are at present in part tolerated. the great majority of rationalistic--mystic--sects, however, have remained hostile to the government, and are persecuted on all sides by the state, although a great part of their members lead much more moral lives than the orthodox russians. they are to be distinguished at present--sects with priests ("popovtzy") and sects without priests ("bezpopovtzy"). the first are the old believers, who are especially well represented in the rich merchant class in moscow and are recognized by the state. they may be distinguished by their uncut beards, by their mode of crossing themselves, and by their great piety. the sects without priests are, however, the most interesting. the most characteristic among them are the self-burners, or danielites, the beguny, or pilgrims, the khlysty, or scourgers, the skoptzy and skakuny, or jumpers.[ ] their customs show what psychology knows already--namely, that religious emotion leads easily to sexual, and then both tend to revel in bloody ideas. one is led, indeed, to question whether the fascinating effect of so many of the stories of saints must not be traced back to that psychological connection in the subconsciousness. with the danielites voluntary death by fire is considered meritorious. the beguny are vagabonds, "without passport," an unheard-of thing according to russian ideas, without name, without proper institutions. in this sect men and women live together promiscuously. they are supported by secret members of the sect who live in towns, and who do not, like the regular beguny, expose themselves to the standing curse of antichrist--_i. e._, the state. the khlysty have direct revelations from heaven in the state of ecstasy which they experience at their devotional meetings. they are flagellants, dance in rings until they are exhausted, and then sink all together in a general orgy. the skoptzy castrate themselves in such circumstances. the skakuny, or jumpers, dance in pairs in the woods with frightfully dislocated limbs until they sink down exhausted. all these sects are accused of child murder. they are said to wish to send children unspotted to the kingdom of heaven. it is to be noted that all these data are unreliable, because no stranger is admitted to the secret devotions, while the imaginations of the denouncers have just as much tendency to revel in sexual and sanguinary ideas as that of the exalted devotees. the persecution of these sects by the government is easy to understand. spiritual epidemics must be fought as much as physical disease. the persecution of the rationalistic sects is quite unjustifiable. they do not deserve the name of sects at all, for in other countries similar ones form simply free political, ethical, or philosophical societies. certainly they can only benefit the communities in which they exist by their high ideal of integrity and strict morality. count leo tolstoï has already made the banishment of the doukhobors known to all the world as an infamous proceeding, and has thereby raised large contributions for their settlement in canada. the shaloputy and the malevents, for the most part ruthenians, have a really ideal character, free from the narrowness and superstition of the church, without ritual, industrious, helpful, peaceful, and kindly. they live together in a state of free-love marriages, without constraint of church or state, neither lie nor swear, and do good even to their enemies. the stundists, who are said to have originated with the german pastor bonekemper, in the rohrbach colony near odessa, are similarly virtuous communists, who do not trouble themselves about the state, hold all property in common, adjust all quarrels among themselves, and harm nobody. the formula of the report with which the gendarmes are accustomed to give notice of the discovery of a stundist is characteristic: "i was passing the house of farmer x---- and his son and saw them both reading in a book. i entered and ascertained that this book is the gospel. farmer x---- and his son are therefore stundists, and as such are most respectfully reported to the authorities." russian nobles have been exiled to siberia for the crime of reading the gospel to their servants. a former officer of the guards, vassili alexandrovitch pashkov, who dedicated all his means to philanthropy and held religious exercises, was expelled from st. petersburg and the movement named for him was suppressed. why is all this? the narrow-mindedness of pobydonostzev's system permits no falling-away from the official church. the police state tolerates no suspicious morality. the thinking class in russia quote with bitterness aksakov's saying, "be a rascal, but be correct in your politics" ("bud, razvraten, no bud, blagonamyeren"). debauchery is directly commended to young men of good family because it prevents intense absorption in politics. the crime of the stundists, doukhobors, and malevents consists in their wishing to be christians in the spirit of christ, and in being disaffected towards that diabolical machine the russian state. for this they are persecuted in the name of christ and of the state, but, as the above-quoted figures show, without result. sectarianism grows continuously. thus leo tolstoï's religious anarchy is in a certain way comprehensible. whoever looks about him sees good people who, without making any disturbance, simply turn away from the state as something unchristian and inhuman; and he may easily fall into the delusion that it will some time be possible to found the kingdom of heaven upon the earth through the spreading of these teachings. their rise, however, is only too comprehensible in a state which has never pretended to represent the general welfare and justice--means by which even conscienceless conquerors and despots have spread civilization. all these sects are limited to the peasantry. the sectarianism of the cities is called socialism. here, too, one must use the word "sectarianism." for even the little bands of organized labor split immediately, after the russian fashion, into smaller groups; and even the intelligent upper classes form just as many little circles, each with its own doctrine and its own organ. in spite of all efforts i did not succeed in getting approximately reliable figures for the strength of the separate socialistic groups. the estimates varied from forty thousand to two hundred thousand, and are, therefore, entirely worthless. in regard to the nature of the groups, both in general and in particular, there is much more definite information. after the assassination of the czar alexander ii., which no one in russia will believe was committed without the help of these groups, who knew definitely that the emperor intended to sign an order for arrest, the small and entirely isolated group of perhaps a hundred and fifty desperadoes was simply exterminated, and several thousand people were exiled to siberia. with that the so-called aggression of nihilism came to an end. malicious persons, however, think it ended with the deed which was most in the interest of the omnipotent police--namely, the assassination of alexander ii. in any case, the police was not at all severe in getting rid of this definitely recognized band. at that time the doctrine of marx was beginning to spread in russia. this doctrine was looked upon by the authorities as an antidote for the terrorism of anarchy. the marxists, whose organ is the _iskra_ (ray, or spark), are doctrinaires here as everywhere, swear--at least so the revisionists declare--by the theory that the poor are growing poorer, and wish the peasants to abandon their land and to become a wandering proletariat according to the catechism of marx. they were opposed by the late mikhailovski, who knew russia better than the founders of the _iskra_. to-day the marxists are supposed to be suppressed. besides these there is the league with the two parisian organs, the _revolutionary russia_, a monthly printed in russian, and the _russian tribune_, the real monitor of the socialistic movement, and, next to struve's _oswobozhdenie_, the best source of information upon russian conditions. the leaguers are former followers of lasalle. they are exceedingly troublesome to the police on account of their close organization. for a while the police cherished the hope of being able to seize the labor movement for their own purposes. a certain subatov invented a plan by which the police were to give financial support to the organization of labor, and in exchange to require the political good conduct of the organization. the industrial barons, however, at whose expense this treaty of peace was to be brought about, put themselves on the defensive. gouyon in particular, a manufacturer of moscow, who employs over five thousand persons, simply threatened to close his factory if the inspectors were not withdrawn. so fell subatov, leaving only his name behind to designate those who still put in a good word for police socialism. they are called "subatovists." with this exception, no one has thought of an honest factory inspection as an effectual help for the workmen. the socialistic movement is seizing not only the working classes, but also the universities, almost all of which to-day embrace a radicalism certainly related to socialism. no sharp distinction can be made, indeed, between these two stages in the general dissatisfaction and fermentation. the police keeps its strictest guard upon the universities and all the thinking classes. in the province of irkutsk there are at present no fewer than three thousand political exiles. how many are lashed to death with knouts in police prisons no man knows. the answer, however, is found in those unplanned outrages which are beginning to occur again, and to which a governor or a minister falls victim, now in one place, now in another. an outbreak of many of these is generally expected in the near future. there is still, however, a conservative element in russia. i asked a well-fed russian tradesman, a representative "kupetz" (small dealer) of moscow, what he thought about the war and the conditions in the country. his answer was so characteristic that i must give it: "it is not anybody's business to think, but to obey god and the czar." the present order of things in russia rests on this principle and on the stupidity of the half-savage cossacks. therefore, no one must be deceived by the symptoms of bitter feeling. a revolution under organized leadership and with a definite object is impossible. at the most, single nationalities and the starving peasantry may rise up, to suffer a sanguinary overthrow. deliverance is not yet within sight for these most unfortunate of all men. national bankruptcy, which no one doubts is imminent, will perhaps bring an improvement. therefore the russians pray, desirous to hasten it, "god help us so that we may be defeated." footnote: [ ] a kind of shakers. xxvi moscow blue heavens, golden cupolas, green towers, red houses, pealing bells above, sleigh-bells on the streets, praying muzhiks before images of the saints, beautiful women in costly furs--when i wish to reconstruct from my recollections the picture of moscow, these are the elements which at first mingle, charming, chaotic, like the colors in caucasian gold-enamel. how beautiful a city this! how often have i stood upon the tower of the ivan veliky and looked down on this endless sea of shining cupolas and gay roofs crowded upon gently rising hills far into the blue haze of the distance! never was the russian love of home so intelligible to me as there in the heart of russia, upon the battlements of the kremlin, high above the bank of the moskva! and involuntarily i wondered, as, indeed, would any one not a subject of the imperator, who has looked down from such battlements upon all the subject masses of russians, whether he has really subjugated them or whether they have only been brought to a death-bringing hibernation. Æsthetic, ethnological, historical, and political suggestions swarm to the mind of the thoughtful observer in this place. what wonder if the russian feels himself here on holy ground and would prefer to put off his shoes when he treads it? the tongue of the people has a kindly word for st. petersburg and a pet name for moscow--"little mother moscow," it is called, the real capital of russiandom. and even the stranger must remark this difference of treatment. st. petersburg astonishes, awes, frightens. moscow ingratiates herself at first sight and wins each day a firmer hold on our hearts. one thinks with a certain tenderness of one's stay in moscow, and in spite of unbelief predicts to himself another visit. but not with faith. for unless business calls him there he is not likely to make a second visit to moscow in a lifetime. but one longs to pass many a pleasant day in this city, so curious and yet so homely, with her kindly inhabitants. why? it would be hard to say in a few words. the city is in too strong a contrast to the forced founding of st. petersburg. there the hand of man is all in evidence; nothing is refreshing. a great prison fortress of granite blocks surrounded by huts and barracks. moscow is a product of nature, founded with enthusiasm by its dwellers in response to the open invitation of nature, and adored even with devotion. even the stranger feels this, even though there is nothing to which he is unaccustomed except the devotion and tenderness of a people to whom he is bound by not a single tie of common association. with what shudders one wanders through rome, from mont pincio to the vatican! how one is carried on by the ocean of world history upon the capitoline, among the excavations of the forum, among the palace walls of the palatine! what is to us, in contrast, the kremlin, this sanctuary of half-asiatic barbarians? yes, an exoteric delicacy, nothing else! one cannot free one's self from the charm of these places. here a good-natured folk has created a jewel-box, gay and dazzlingly ornamented, careless of what the culture of the west has declared beautiful and holy; hither gravitate all the national feelings of a hundred million people; and, finally, all this is created to the harm of no one, to frighten no one, to oppress no one. here the czar is not the general-in-chief of so many million bayonets, but "little father czar," who yields the countless holy images and chapels just the same devotion as his lowest muzhik. and here is the past--not alone the brazen, threatening present--the past of a strange people, but a people of lovable individuals, who, besides, are brought nearer to us than many of our nearest neighbors by a literature of unparalleled fidelity to life. one must grow to love this childlike, slow-blooded, and yet care-free people, with their irresistible heartiness. and he who has learned to love the russians must love their little mother moscow, in spite of, or just on account of, her quietness. from st. petersburg an express train brings us to moscow in thirteen hours. it is always a night train that disposes of this traffic, for the russian likes to sleep in his comfortable berth. and so we arrive in moscow in the morning, ready at once to assimilate the first impressions of the enormous city. our expectancy is great, of course. moscow, the object of all most russian! it must differ, at first sight, from all we have as yet seen. but while the hotel omnibus rattles through the streets from the depot but little that is peculiar is to be seen. an affable fellow-passenger explains to us that that is only the foreign business quarter. but now one after another the church cupolas appear, one after another in increasing brightness and variety. at our "ah!" in expression of our satisfaction, we are instructed that we had better be more sparing of that vowel sound or we might soon become hoarse. moscow has no less than four hundred and fifty such churches and twenty cloisters in addition. so let us be sparing. but the resolution is hard to keep. a long and mighty wall suddenly rises before us with countless angles, towers, and turrets. the wall is white, the towers are green, and through the gate we see long streets and buildings in all possible colors, dark included. it is kitay-gorod, the inner city, with the bazars. bokhara cannot appear more asiatic. now we feel already all that we are about to see. a giant modern hotel almost destroys for us the ensemble. look quickly to your lodgings and then out again! we are nicely located. from our windows we see the towers of the kremlin, which rise above the nearest roofs. let him who will endure remaining behind double windows! after washing and having some tea we are at the door again, and quickly make a bargain with the "izwozchik" who is to drive us over the outlined tour of the city. horse and sleigh are a bit smaller than in st. petersburg, but still very good. and so we are out in the sunshine, off into the snowy landscape, to gain a hurried general conception of the endless city. for two hours our good little horse draws us, gliding over bridges and pikes, up and down hill, and when we return half frozen to the hotel we have seen scarce a fraction of the periphery, but a thousand teams, with shaggy muzhiks in wicker sleighs, and, still more, little country-houses of wood, which might serve in the west for summer cottages, but which offer an inviting shelter even here in the icy winter. the whole of moscow is a complex of official municipal buildings which are crowded together into the narrowest space, of churches and palaces narrowly crowded about the kremlin, and of immense suburbs which lie in rings about the inner town. but these suburbs have a half-country character--broad, uneven streets and low, villa-like houses, with little gardens. little mother moscow gives her children room. they do not have to crowd together in usuriously paying tenements, and houses of more than one story are quite the exception. even in the shadow of the kremlin a parterre for the stores and a single story above it are sufficient. really, only the hotels stretch with three or four stories heavenward. the impression is ever recurring that moscow has no desire to be a city, and only quite unwillingly yields to the necessity of a crowded existence. the kremlin, which we did not lose sight of once on our whole trip, entices us strongly. it lies before us; so let us enter. yes, if it were as easily done as said! we cross a broad square, across which lean little horses draw a horse-car high as the first story of a house, and then we stand before buildings which allow us to go no farther. it is the duma, the city hall, on the left, and the historical museum on the right, both dark-red in color; on the latter the façade is built entirely of darkened stone, so that it gives the impression of the whole being incrusted. the style is to be met with frequently. it belongs to the sixteenth century and is now being revived. the idea of using a coating of russian enamel as an element of architectural style is a brilliant one. we reach a gate of the high wall surrounding the inner city kitay-gorod. but before we pass the gate let us cast a glance at the peculiar doings in the little chapel, scarcely bigger than a room, which is built on its left side. it is the iberian chapel, with the famed image of the virgin to which the czar pays his devotions before he enters the kremlin. the original, with its genuine precious stones, is now in the city, where for a fee it is brought to sick people. in the mean time a copy takes its place. at the time of the daily excursions of the virgin the governor-general, prince sergius, does not allow the jews to remain on the streets. the blessed virgin may not see upon her way the traces of jewish feet. every one crosses himself before her. but most climb the few steps to her and cross themselves again, with deep bendings of the upper body; but some, men as well as women, throw themselves full length upon the ground and touch the earth with their foreheads. the candle trade flourishes; scarcely a soul enters who does not buy a candle and light it before some image. no difference of station can be recognized. the great lady, the high official, the dirty muzhik, all are the same in their worship. their caps are continually removed, and the rather time-consuming russian ceremony of making the sign of the cross is performed. but the really pious ones do not content themselves with worshipping before the gate. they do the same thing again when inside. we reach, finally, the "red square," so called because of the red kremlin wall and the red group of houses at the entrance. we notice again that astonishment does not exactly make one brilliant. an "ah!" in unison is all that escapes our lips. i believe that then i cried out with enthusiasm, and i should have liked to take by the coat-lapels the people who, used to the scene, were indifferently going their ways, and to say to them: "look, you barbarians! do you not know what you have here?" vasili blazhenny (the basilius cathedral)! many times as one may have seen the curious bit of architecture depicted and dissected, yet when one finally stands before it and allows the gay towers, with their green, red, blue, and yellow cupolas to make their impression, he seems to have entered quite another world, which no longer has a single thing in common with our western one. a sovereign, glorying fantasy has here been formed and created, apparently without rule, led only by the law of variety; has made wings, doors, and windings, and in the narrowest space unfolded a richness which strikes us dumb, much as our feeling for style struggles against the reversal of all our national laws. one's whole architectural sense leans towards clear relationship of parts, towards rhythm and proportion; the artist of the basilius cathedral leans towards intricacy, lack of rhythm, disproportion. he is a colorist, and but a colorist, in contrast to our renaissance artists, to whom the color seems almost an injury to the delicate line. and yet in all this gay confusion he has held fast to a fundamental feeling which in all the variations keeps returning, as in a joint--yes, just as in the wildest dream some guiding idea like a red thread follows through it all. this motive--i could not help always calling it to myself the tschibuk motive, after the winding, pearl-set tubes of a turkish pipe--is carried out with every possible indian, persian, and roman ingredient, and still retains the characteristic byzantine style. a person would show great partiality to call this building a mad-house, as many an artist has done. one must only be able to free himself for an hour from the dictator of the old taste in order to be able to comprehend the delight of ivan the terrible at sight of this architectural orgy. (he gave expression to this delight by having the eyes of the architect put out in order that he might build no second masterpiece like it.) and then again it must be confessed that the task of uniting in narrow space thirteen chapels with thirteen towers could not well have been solved in any other way than in this apparently most untrammelled, fantastic one. if this proposition be accepted, the master of vasili blazhenny can only be the object of wonder. now vasili blazhenny is typical of all moscow, the kremlin included. it is the spirit of curious variety, of rich fantasy, the spirit of the south and the east which rules here. the snow one feels to be almost out of place, so southern is the character of the city. the kremlin, too, before which we now stand, is a "free-act" work of art, a piece something like the san marco quarter in venice, if one thinks of the sea as removed. for the kremlin must not be thought of as a palace is; it is a whole part of a city, surrounded by a wall twenty metres high, two kilometres long, enclosing an irregular pentagon. it lies on a rather steeply rising hill on the bank of the moskva, and commands the whole region round about. its beauty is not to be enjoyed in the interior of the many churches, palaces, and barracks, although there is enough worth seeing there, too. it only opens up from the balcony of the ivan veliky tower, or from the bastion where the colossal monument of alexander stands. but the most beautiful view of the whole complex is from the far bank of the moskva, where the high wall, with its countless towers and cupolas, seems like the birth of an oriental dream-fantasy. it shines and lightens in all colors, looks into the air, and speaks kindly greetings to all below; one could simply sit and clap one's hands for joy. but to the russian this little jewel-box is by no means a plaything. on the contrary, he very respectfully bares his head and ceases not to cross himself. for "above moscow is only the kremlin, and above the kremlin is only heaven." within, however, the muzhik regains his childlikeness, and when he stands before the enormous cannon--"the czar of cannon," an old bronze gun--he invariably climbs upon the pyramid of giant balls which stands before it, climbs aloft and gapes into the yard-wide mouth of the gun. and under no circumstances does he neglect to creep into the hole of the "queen of the bells," which is in front of the ivan veliky, in which there is room for two hundred people. we who are not childlike muzhiks may not allow ourselves such diversions; we must conscientiously see all the wonders of this greatest of all rarities, a thing which will consume at least a day. we spare the reader our experiences. even the treasure-chamber with the coronation insignia and jewels big as one's fist cannot inveigle us into a description--all that could be seen in berlin or vienna. finally, the wonderful beauty of the colossal church of the deliverer must here be spoken of. the work is too unique in its nature to allow of being passed over in silence. the church is built apart, is visible afar, and forms the glorious completion of the kremlin picture seen from the moskva. in its mighty height, with its colossal, gilded domes, of which the middle one measures thirty metres in diameter, it lightens like a promise of the light the gay, romantic air of the kremlin. fifty-eight high reliefs in marble ornament the façade, sixty windows give bright light to the interior, colored still more golden by the light of countless candles. the magnificence of the central nave, entirely of gold and marble, is simply overpowering, and the golden and silver garments of the patriarchs would be quite unnecessary in giving us the strongest impression of the enormous riches of the russian church. together with the cathedral of isaac, in st. petersburg, this church is well calculated to compete with st. peter's, in rome. but i believe that one should refrain from the comparison. the expression "roma tatae!" comes from madame de staël, and was, within certain bounds, approved by moltke, who would call moscow a russian rome. but i must, with all due modesty, demur. too many undertones vibrate in our souls at the word "rome" to allow us to consider any sort of comparison. but for a russian? who knows where the awe of eternity touches him deeper, before st. peter's or before this church of the deliverer? but no, such a question may not be put. muzhik and kupetz, farmer and small merchant, have absolutely no understanding of rome--no beauty impresses them, only the barbaric pomp with the costliness of the materials. but the cultured russian feels just as we do, and will not seek the elements which make mighty the word "rome" anywhere else on earth. and those that i spoke to in moscow itself would have given a good deal of the peculiarity of their country for a breath of european atmosphere. continuity between the time of ivan the terrible and the present does not exist for these nobles, lawyers, and journalists of moscow. they endure with polite but painful resignation our delight in the fantasticness of their kremlin, their churches and cloisters. it does not flatter them in the least that they are curiosities for western people, like the baschkirs and tatars, for instance; and they will not hear of their being condemned to continue a life in russian style, apart from europe. this extreme enthusiasm for the autochthonous, which is often enough only an antiquated product of chance, is, after all, a romantic reaction and nothing else. it has long been proved that the gothic which awakened such exclusive enthusiasm in the days of the germanic romance is not gothic at all, but french. and so russia has no reason at all for considering her style, which is really byzantine, all-sufficient. byzantine, however, is the contrast to europe, whose past has led by way of rome and wittenberg to the paris of . and so progressive moscow seeks freedom from byzantium. while i was pretty deeply imbued with things russian, it was suggested to me to see a play in the "artists' theatre," and then to say whether moscow was really quite russian and asiatic. i followed this advice and had no reason to regret it. xxvii moscow--_continued_ they were right in advising me to go to the theatre in order to correct my impression that moscow was a thorough-going russian city. a hotel, for instance, proves nothing at all concerning the character of a town. it betrays at most the year of its erection, for to-day, the world over, building is done in the recognized "modern style."[ ] even this or that elegant street indicates nothing. there the imitation of patterns seen elsewhere plays too great a rôle. but the theatre which is to survive must adapt itself to the ruling taste to such an extent that it can be considered really characteristic of it. now the "artists' theatre"--or, as it is called because of the "secessionistic"[ ] arrangement, the "decadent theatre"--of moscow is really unique, and by the preferences of the theatre public one can very well recognize the quality and quantity of the intelligence of a city. with respect to picturesqueness of staging, it is distinctly the superior of the meininger theatre; and, as far as scenery and purity of style are concerned, it can well compare with the most up-to-date stages. to be sure, inquiry should not be made into the distribution of the individual rôles; to some extent this is worse than mediocre. i saw "julius cæsar" played where the conspirators seemed to feel it necessary to yell out their plans in the night with all their might. but, in contrast to this, the palace of the emperor was represented with a fidelity which could not have been exceeded in rome itself; and the same with the forum, and with the generals' tent at philippi. the choruses were simply captivating in their execution. but more interesting to me than the play was the audience. and the audience, composed entirely of the educated middle class, knew quite as well how to judge what was success and what failure in the performance as any of the better audiences of a vienna or a berlin theatre. and the foyer, very appealingly decorated by the simplest artistic means with scenes from the history of the russian drama and with many portraits of writers and actors, was visited and enjoyed by the audience in the intermission. if i had not continually heard about me the sounds of a strange speech, and had not seen here and there a russian student uniform, it never would have occurred to me that i was in the very heart of russia, so far as culture was concerned. it was the same, too, in the families with which i spent my evenings. if anything, only the heartiness with which one is received is gratefully at variance with our habits of careful reserve towards strangers. but these hearty and hospitable people who at once lead us to the samovar are by no means backwoodsmen, but are most intimately in touch with all the advantages of the world, and they have uncommonly keen powers of observation. the visiting european who might think himself in a position to act among them would quickly become aware that the russian writers, who astonish us by their deep psychological insight, have not picked up their art by the wayside. it is hidden in the most charming little formalities, which in moscow, in particular, simply charmed me. nowhere the slightest cant, nowhere the slightest false display, nowhere the forced enthusiasm for culture which makes certain circles of our great cities so repulsive to us. naturalness is the pervading note in moscow social life. but literary and art interests are a matter of course in a society which is scarcely paralleled by the english in its demand for reviews. to-day, of course, every other interest is forced to the wall by politics. i have been present at gatherings in the best circles of people of culture at which even the young had scarcely any interest save in political questions. even little declamations with which the individual guests distinguished themselves were spiced with political allusions, and were enjoyed by young and old just because of this spice. yet moscowism has, in a sense, a bad reputation. it is held to be the embodiment of the russian reaction against every attempt of a civilizing nature which emanates from st. petersburg. of the lesser citizens, or the old-fashioned merchants at times, this may even to-day be true. the nobility in the moscow government, however, the university, and the members of the few professions such as medicine and the law, are much less circumspect and free-minded in their political criticism than their contemporaries in st. petersburg, for instance. such an opposition organ as the _russkiya vyedomosti_ does not exist in st. petersburg. there is also, to be sure, a sharp contrast between the intelligence of moscow and that of official st. petersburg; but this contrast is anything but one between reaction and progress. it is worth while to examine it more closely. the present russian régime has preserved only the despotism of the enlightened despotism of peter; the enlightenment has vanished. the wisdom of the government consists solely in the obstruction of popular education. the means to this end is the police, with their relentless crusade against any intelligence of a trend not quite orthodox in its attitude towards the state and the ruling spirit of the old régime in the corruption of all the elements of the higher strata of society. demoralization is encouraged, so to say, by official circles. just as among the peasants a man caught reading his bible is held in suspicion, so in st. petersburg a young man makes himself subject to the displeasure of the authorities if he does not take his part in the "diversions of youth." a lordly contempt for humanity is accordingly the prerequisite for every career in that northern paris. the pursuit of fortune has never a conscience, least of all where it appears in military form. there _esprit de corps_ and dignity of position displace to a degree of absolute hostility all morality. elegantly and fashionably clothed, one is always ready to wager one's life, or rather to throw it into the balance, for the most valueless stake. one is irreligious and anti-moral on principle, but of the strictest outward orthodoxy and monarchical to the very marrow. it is to this anti-moral (anti-democratic) superficial superciliousness[ ] that moscow forms a contrast in each and every particular. here one is benevolent, democratic, hearty, and intentionally modest in appearance. here, too, there appears to be less struggling. the kupetz (small merchant) is rich as can be, but he lingers in his little store with narrow entrances, and never has a thought of laying aside his caftan, the ancestral overcoat, or his high boots, into which are stuffed the ends of his trousers. but it is not exactly this merchant whom i should like to cite as an example of my point, for it is just he who has brought upon moscow the reputation for being hostile to progress. but there is probably some connection between the resistance which the nobility of moscow offers to st. petersburg customs and the obstinate self-sufficiency of the merchant with his old-fashioned views. just as this kupetz does not allow himself to be dazzled by the elegant-looking clerk of the st. petersburg merchant, but clings to his ancestral ways, so the moscow nobleman is not dazzled by the elegance of the dressy st. petersburg officer of the guards. people dress elegantly in moscow, too--yes, even in the parisian style. but the contemptible inhumanity of the struggling official of st. petersburg does not appeal to the moscowite as civilizational progress, but as a metropolitan degeneracy to be despised. and so among the bright people of moscow patriarchal heartiness is preserved. it was not a matter of pure chance that leo tolstoï spent so many winters in moscow society. in st. petersburg he would not have stayed. the most beautiful creation of this conscious devotion to moscow is the donation of a simple merchant, the possession of which any city of the world might envy--the tretyakov gallery, the largest and most valuable private collection that exists anywhere. a knowledge of it is absolutely indispensable to the historian of modern russian painting. the alexander museum of st. petersburg has isolated magnificent pieces of ryepin, aiwasowsky, and the most beautiful sculptures of antokolski; but it cannot be compared with the two thousand pieces of the tretyakov gallery. the founder gave, besides this invaluable collection, a building for it, and a fund, from the interest of which, even after his death, the collection might be augmented. admission, of course, is free to all; even fees for coat checks may not be collected of its visitors. in this gallery one realizes for the first time that russian painting is about at par with russian literature, that it also has its tolstoïs, turgenyevs, and dostoyevskys. above all, there is ilya ryepin with a whole collection of portraits and large genre pictures. i have tried to sketch some of those works of art elsewhere in a special article devoted to this greatest of russian artists, and will not repeat myself here. let me only mention the portraits of leo tolstoï, copies of which can now be found in the west. the poet is here depicted once behind the plough and again barefoot in his garden, his hands in his belt, his head thoughtfully sunk upon his breast. it is the best picture of tolstoï that exists. once, while i was walking up and down in conversation with the poet in his room at yasnaya polyana, i had to bite my tongue in order to suppress the remark, "now you look as if you had been cut from the canvas of ryepin." ryepin may be compared as a portrait-painter with the very foremost artists of all times. the strength of his characters is simply unequalled. but the russians appear to me particularly great in the field of realistic genre and of landscape painting, just as in their literature, which never leaves the firm ground of observation; and just for that reason it is perfectly unique in the catching of every little event, of every feeling and atmosphere peculiar to the landscape. among the painters of the last quarter of the nineteenth century who already have worked under ryepin's influence, there is no longer any insidiousness of coloring. everything is seen clearly and strongly reproduced. no düsseldorferie and no anecdote painting. of course, they did not shun a subject useful in itself, and they by no means avoid a slight political tendency. but they are no less artists because they disdain to beg of the fanatics of "art for art's sake" the right to the name of artists by an exclusion of all but purely neutral subjects. on the contrary, in the naïveté in which they show themselves in their art as human beings of their time, they let it be known that the problem "art for art's sake" is for them without any meaning, since with them it is an axiom that they desire to influence only through the medium of their art; and yet they judge every work of art first of all in accordance with its artistic qualities. only they do not allow themselves by an apparently neutral, but in reality a reactionary, doctrine to be hindered from the expression of their sympathy for everything liberal, free, and human. there is, for instance, a picture there by doroschenko which bears the harmless title "everywhere is life." it might, yes, it ought really to hang in the gallery of the parisian, for it is a work of christian spirit. convicts are feeding doves from the railroad car which is carrying them into exile. as a painting it is excellent. the light falls full upon the whirring pigeons in the foreground and upon the convicts pressing their faces against the iron bars of the window of the car. one sees through the window, and notices on the far side of the car another barred window at which a man is standing and looking out. the interior of the car is almost dark. the group of convicts in the foreground consists of a young man, evidently the guilty one, and his wife, who is following him into exile with their year-old child on her bosom. for the sake of the child, and to please him, they are feeding the doves. a bearded old man looks on pleased, and a dark-bearded younger man, too, whom one might sooner believe guilty of some slight misdeed. but upon the face of all these exiles lies so childlike a brightness, so evident a sympathetic pleasure in the joy of the child, that one rather doubts their guilt than the fact that they are still capable of good-natured human feelings. and yet this picture of christian pity has not been bought for the parisian. for it is well understood, in spite of its harmless title, what its meaning is. "everywhere is life" should read, "everywhere is pity, everywhere humanity, except among the police, in the state, and in an autocracy." what guilt can these good little folk have committed--looking there so kindly at a child that cooingly feeds the doves--that they should be torn from their native hearth and be sent to the icy deserts of siberia? the young father--perhaps he went among the people teaching that a farmer was a man as well as the policeman (pristav). and one thinks with a shudder of the two thousand political convicts of the year before that were sent into the department of irkutsk.... such is the russian genre. it is full of references, but is never a mere illustration of some tendency or other. the painter does not make the solution of his problem easy, and does not speculate on the cooperative comprehension of the observer, who is satisfied if he finds his thoughts indicated. no, such a russian genre picture is perfect in the characteristic of the heads, in perspective, in the distribution of light and atmosphere. the purely picturesque, to be sure, is more evident in the landscape. and in this the russians do astonishing work. they have the eye of the child of nature for the peculiarities of the landscape--an eye which we in the west must train again. what west european writer could have been in a position to write nature studies like leo tolstoï's _cossacks_, or like the "hay harvest" from _anna karenina_? and one might also ask, what west european has so studied the forest like schischkin, the sea like aiwasowsky, the river and the wind like levitan? there is a picture of schischkin's in the tretyakov gallery, "morning in the pine forest." a family of bears busy themselves about an enormous fallen, splintered pine. everything is alive; the comical little brown fellows are quite as true to nature as the moss in the foreground and the veil of mist before the trees in the background. strange to say, schischkin is stronger in his etchings than in his oil-paintings, the colors of which are always a little too dry. but his etchings, which i could enjoy in their first prints, thanks to the goodness of the senator reutern in st. petersburg, are real treasures in sentiment and character. he is, if one may express it so, the psychologist of the trees. a tree on the dunes is a whole tragedy from the lives of the pines. aiwasowsky, the virtuoso of the troubled sea, is more effective than the quiet schischkin. his storms at sea, with their transparent waves, actually drive terror into the onlooker. the black sea has been the favorite object of his pictures. there all the furies seem to be let loose in order to frighten fisher and sailor. and these floods shine and shimmer; they are as if covered with a transparent light. levitan, again, has understood the charm of the calm surface of a small body of water as no one else. his brush is dipped in feeling. the beauty of his pictures cannot be reproduced in words. he seems to have a special sense-organ for the shades of the atmosphere. it is a pity that he died so very young. the collection of vereschtschagin has now obtained a particularly enhanced value because of the awful death of the master. the tretyakov gallery has, with the exception of the napoleonic pictures which ornament the alexander museum, almost the whole life-work of the artist. his work has only recently been universally appreciated. the power of the versatile man was astonishing; his philanthropic turn of mind and his epigrammatic spirit give spice to his pictures; but of him, first of all, perhaps, it might be said that he used his art for purposes foreign to it in spite of all artistic treatment. for it was seldom the artistic problem that charmed him. only his oriental color studies are to a certain extent free from ulterior purposes. it is difficult to choose from this abundance of good masters, and particularly to name those whom one should know above the others. pictures cannot easily be made so accessible as books, and the contents of a picture does not permit of being told at all. and so i content myself with mentioning again the names of ryepin, schischkin, levitan, and aiwasowsky, and then those of the portrait-painter kramskoi, the landscape-painter gay, and the master of genre painting, makowski. and to any one whose path ever leads him to moscow, a visit to the tretyakov gallery is most urgently recommended. a people which produces such artists in every field as the russian has not only the right to the strongest self-consciousness, and to the general sympathy of people of culture, but, above all, it has the right to be respected by its rulers and not to be handled like a horde of slaves. but, in spite of it all, light has not dawned upon those in power. you may resolve as often as you will in russia not to bother, for the space of a day, with the everlasting police, but, in spite of all, you will be continually coming into contact with them. our path from the tretyakov gallery to the hotel leads past a long, barrack-like building. we ask our companion its object. he at once tells us something of interest. first, the giant building is the manége, the drill-room for the soldiers in bad weather. its arched roof lies upon the walls without any interior support. the weight of the roof is so great that already the walls in many places have sagged and have had to be reinforced. architects had suggested alterations, which, however, would have cost countless thousands. such an expenditure could not be tolerated, and in the mean time the evil increased. already they were about to take a costly bite from the sour apple, when a small peasant appeared and promised for a hundred rubles to arrange matters in a single night. he simply bored, in the top of the leaden roof, a hole, through which the air could circulate, and immediately the roof lay like a feather upon the walls without endangering them any longer by its weight. such is the story of the moskvich. whether or not it is true, or is held to be so by people who know about such things, i do not venture to judge. but it seemed to me interesting enough to be told. but what interested me still more was the subsidiary use to which the building is put. it is near the university. now if a student disorder arises, they manage to surround the students by cossacks and drive them into this manége, where they are held behind lock and key, by thousands, until the worshipful officials have sought out those which may most to their purpose be called revolutionists. chance wills that generally the jews are held, since herr von plehve needs statistical proof for his theory of a purely jewish opposition. his accusations may have served him among those above him, but not among those below him. i found that in moscow itself dealings between the intelligent christians and the few jews who are allowed upon the street were most hearty. the political bitterness, the desperate fight against the régime, unites them all; after the russian custom they exchange, embrace, and kiss at every meeting, jew or christian, provided they only be friends. it was for me, a westerner, an interesting and mortifying sight to see how young russian nobles with world-famous names kissed on the mouth and cheek in welcome and in farewell their jewish friends. with this impression i took my departure from moscow. terrible as the political pressure may be, the people have preserved one thing in this prison--their humanity. and thus they will one day attain happiness, just as they are in many things already happier than we, because they have remained human. for a well-known authoress, who begged me to write a few words in her album, i wrote the words which i shall here repeat, because they contain the sum of my russian impressions, particularly after the pleasing days in moscow: "russia is a sack, but it is inhabited by human beings. the west is free, but it knows almost none but business-men. i often almost believe that we ought to envy them...." footnotes: [ ] referring to a modern independent art movement in europe. [ ] ubermenschenthum. cf. philosophy of nietzsche xxviii a visit to tolstoÏ from moscow an accommodation train goes in one night to tula, capital of the government of the same name. the infallible _baedeker_ advises the traveller to leave the train there, because it is hard to get a team at the next station, kozlovka, though kozlovka is nearer to yasnaya polyana, the estate of the poet, than is tula. i follow my _baedeker_ blindly, because i have always had to repent when i departed from its advice. the german _baedeker_ deserves the highest credit for taking the trouble to give this information to the few travellers that make the pilgrimage to leo tolstoï. for it is not to be supposed that tolstoï is overrun. his family guard his retirement, and do not grant admittance to every one. i was, in fact, the only stranger who found his way there during the entire week. it was, indeed, a very special introduction which opened the gates to me. the train reaches tula at eight in the morning. thoughtful friends had given me a card in russian to the station-master to help me to find a driver who knew the way. the station-master could not, however, decipher the card, and did not understand my french. a colonel of cossacks then helped me out. he had already been talking with the official, and now asked me if i could not speak german a little. when i assented he immediately played the interpreter. in a few minutes a muzhik was found who, with his small sleigh and shaggy, big-boned pony, had made the journey many times. the amiable cossack then accepted an invitation to breakfast in the clean station, and we chatted for a while over our tea. he was a tall, fair-haired man, with kindly blue eyes and the short slavonic nose. his conversation, however, emphatically contradicted his appearance. he was on his way to the ural, where he was to meet his regiment, and talked about the bayonets of his cossacks being bent because the men spit the "kakamakis" (japanese) and threw them over their shoulders. he was delighted that i was a german, for the russians think the germans very good fellows at present. only the english are a bad lot--"jew englishmen!" leo tolstoï, he said, was a man of great genius, but it wasn't nice that he was an atheist. i interrupted him, laughing: "i don't wish to be personal, colonel, but leo tolstoï is a much better christian than you." "how's that?" i explained to him that tolstoï wishes to reestablish the primitive christianity and is the enemy only of the church and of the priests. the good fellow was immediately satisfied. if it were nothing worse than that--no russian could endure the priests. they were all rascals. the missionaries in china had turned all their girls' schools into harems. only the dissenting priests led a moral life. it was the talk of a big, thoroughly lovable child, in whom even the thirst for fighting was not unbecoming. who knows whether the bullets of the "kakamakis" have not already found him out! i spoke later to the good tolstoï of this conversation. he also is persuaded that only right teaching is needed to turn these essentially good-hearted people from the business of murder. at present war is merely a hunting adventure for them. they form no conception of the sufferings of the defeated. deeply buried in furs and robes, we glided at last over the glittering snow. the city of tula, which would have been interesting at another time on account of its metal industry, was a matter of indifference at the moment. we quitted it on the left and struck at once into the road to yasnaya polyana. the distance before us was almost fifteen versts (ten miles); our pony had, therefore, to make good time if it was to bring us, over all the hills covered with soft snow, to our destination before noon. a russian horse, however, can stand a good deal, so i did not need to interrupt by inopportune consideration for animals the thoughts which surged through my brain more and more as we came near the end of the journey. a meeting with tolstoï is such an incomparable privilege for me--will fate permit me thoroughly to enjoy the moments? and if he is not the man i expect to find, if one of the great again unmasks before me as a _poseur_--who appears great and admirable only at a distance--how many illusions have i still to lose? may not his apostleship be merely a self-suggested idea obstinately clung to? is not his tardy religious bent, perhaps, mere hypochondria, fear of the next world, preparation for death? a look with his eyes must show me. i must learn from the sound of his voice whether my inner ear deceives me when i hear the ring of sincerity in the primeval force of his diction. i know i cannot deceive myself. if the concept i have formed of him is corrected even in the least point by the reality, that is the end of my secret worship. we turned in at last between two stone pillars at the park of yasnaya polyana. below, beside the frozen pond, we saw a youthful figure advancing with the light step of an officer surrounded by a pack of baying and leaping dogs. yet, if my eyes did not deceive me, a gray beard flowed over the breast of this slender, boyish figure. he stopped, shaded his eyes with his hand, and looked towards our sleigh. then he turned back. it was he. we had hardly reached the house and been unwrapped from our furs and overshoes by the servants, when the door of the low vestibule opened, and there, in muzhik smock and fur, high boots and tall fur cap, as we knew him from a thousand pictures, leo tolstoï stood before us and held out a friendly hand. while he, motioning away the servants, pulled off his knee-high felt overshoes, i had opportunity to look at him. that is to say, my eyes at first were held by the head alone, with its softly curling gray hair, which flows, parted, to the neck. thick, bushy, gray brows shade the deep-set, blue eyes and sharply define an angular, self-willed forehead. the nose is strong, slender above, broad and finely modelled in the nostrils. the long, gray mustache completely covers the mobile mouth. a waving white beard, parted in the middle, flows from the hoary cheeks to the shoulders. the head is not broad--rather, it might be called narrow--wholly unslavonic, and is well poised. the broad, strongly built shoulders have a military erectness. the powerful body is set on slender hips. a narrow foot is hidden in the high russian boot and moves elastically. the step and carriage are youthful. an irony of fate will have it that the bitterest foe of militarism betrays in his whole appearance the former officer. the man in the peasant's dress is in every movement the _grand seigneur_. we were still standing in the vestibule, which serves also as a cloak-room. the count thrust both hands in his belt--well-shaped, powerful hands--and asked in faultless german my plan for the day. i felt the gentle eyes on my face as he spoke. the look is beaming and kindly. one is not pierced, only illuminated. yet one feels distinctly that nothing is hidden from those quiet, kindly eyes. i answered that i should return to moscow at midnight, and until then would under no consideration disturb him in his work. he told me, thereupon, to send back my sleigh, since he would have us driven at night to the station in his own. he would have no refusal to our eating breakfast before we withdrew to the room assigned us. the countess, he said, was in moscow at the time, but the youngest daughter would soon return from the village school, where she taught. he would leave her to entertain us until luncheon. i should say here that my wife accompanied me on this wintry journey, as on the whole journey of investigation. tolstoï himself would keep to his usual programme--would look over his mail, write a promised article, rest a little in the afternoon, then ride, and from dinner--that is, from six o'clock--until midnight would be at my disposal. then he led us to a large room on the first floor. here stood a long table, which remains spread all day. tea and eggs were brought. before withdrawing, however, the count sat with us awhile, asked with the tact of a man of the world about personal matters--the number of our children and how they were cared for in our absence, and the friends in moscow who had introduced us to him--all in a low, musical voice which banished all embarrassment. then he rose with a slight bow and walked to his room. at the door, however, he turned and came back to ask whether we brought any news of the war. it was just in the pause after the first catastrophe at port arthur. we were obliged, therefore, to say no. then the servant appeared and led us back to the ground floor, where we were shown into two connecting rooms. we had time to record our first impressions. the worst was over. there was no fear of disillusion. that was gone like a cloud of smoke. the infinite kindliness of his eyes, the gentleness of his hand-shake, the beauty of the silvery head exert a fascination. there can be no doubt of his complete sincerity. the mind is filled with an entirely new feeling, that of astonishment at the unpretentious peacefulness of this fighter, who, from the stern seriousness of his latest writings, and from his current portraits, might be taken for a philosophizing pessimist. whatever titanic thoughts may work in this head, which looks like one of michael angelo's, all that is visible is a glow of serene and holy peace, which gently relaxes the tension of our own souls also. the ever-disturbing thought that we might find in the count a recluse and an eccentric--if one may use such profane expressions in connection with this illustrious man--a fanatic on the subject of woollen underclothing and a return to nature in foods, was set at rest from the first moment of meeting. the count is no eccentric, but a polished man in spite of the convenient dress of the muzhik. the peasant dress is simply the one that has proved best for his intercourse with the country people. moreover, there is a noticeable difference between the well-cut and well-fitting coat of tolstoï and that of the ragged peasant. i must confess that the setting at rest of even this little misgiving was of value to me. for, as people are in this world, they will not take even a saint seriously if he wraps himself in external eccentricities--if he has not good taste. leo tolstoï decidedly has good taste. only he is great enough and strong enough not to submit to the tyranny of fashion. i should like, however, to see the man who felt the least suggestion of worldly superiority in talking with him. truly the count is not the man whom any fop in the consciousness of his english tailor would presume to patronize. perhaps, unconsciously to himself, and certainly against his will, it is unmistakably to be seen in him that he once had the idea of being _comme il faut_, as he tells in his _childhood and youth_. however insignificant this circumstance may be in the worldwide fame of leo tolstoï, it must be mentioned, simply because the legend of the muzhik's smock may too easily create an entirely false impression of the personality of the poet. in spite of all the kindly simplicity of his bearing, no one can for a moment escape the impression that here speaks a distinguished man in every sense of the term. the rooms allotted to us were parts of his large library. on a shelf i found the carefully kept catalogue of the fourteen cases, with each book on a separate slip. a glance through one of the glass doors showed me english, french, german, and russian books; my eye even fell on a danish grammar. there stood side by side a work on leonardo da vinci, björnson's _Über unsere kraft_, marcel prévost's _vierges fortes_, jules verne's _journey to the centre of the earth_, spinoza, renan, a book of travel by vámbéry, a book of entomology, buffon--the most different sorts of books, and obviously much used. the count is able to accomplish such an achievement in reading only by a careful division of the day, not to say a military exactness and thoroughness, pushed perhaps to pedantry, in all his doings. later, in speaking with me, he used the familiar phrase, "genius is eternal patience." he has this patience. it is well known how he works--that he has his first conception copied on the type-writer, then corrected, then copied again, and so on until the work satisfies him. on the day of my visit this man of seventy-five took an early morning walk of an hour and a half, looked over his large mail, wrote an english article upon the war, rode two full hours in the afternoon with the thermometer at six, worked again, and remained in almost uninterrupted conversation with us from six o'clock until midnight. he spoke german most of the time, rarely french. at the end of the exceedingly intense conversation he was just as youthfully elastic as at the beginning; indeed, in the late night hours his eyes first began to glow with a light of inspiration which no one who has once seen it can ever forget. in addition to the great thoroughness of all his action and the strict division of the day, a vital energy which must be called truly phenomenal is also most essentially characteristic of his personality. leo tolstoï is a giant in psychical and intellectual strength, as he must once have been in physical strength also. it is not purely accidental that the two heroes in whom he has pictured himself most unmistakably--peter, in _war and peace_, and levin, in _anna karenina_--are large, strong men of unusual productive capacity. xxix a visit to tolstoÏ--_continued_ it was not yet noon when the door opened and a supple, laughing creature burst in like a whirlwind and ran up the stairs, filling the house with music. soon afterwards the servant summoned us to luncheon. when we went up-stairs the laughing singer with the voice like a silver bell met us at the door of the dining-room. it was the countess alexandra lvovna, or, as she is known in the house, sasha, a blooming, beautiful blonde, with her father's brows above great, wide-open, blue eyes. the countess sasha does not speak german. she did the honors of the luncheon in the absence of her father, who did not appear, since it is his custom not to interrupt his work at this time. therefore another inmate of the house was present, a circassian, a talented artist who had nursed the count in the crimea and since then has remained in the family. she makes herself useful now by filing the count's correspondence. she speaks only russian, however, so that she could take no part in the conversation. naturally, we spoke only of the countess's father. his health the preceding year had been very weak from attacks of malaria and typhus, and even now the family were constantly anxious about him. for he does not spare himself in the least, and will not take his advanced years into consideration at all. for twenty years he has not eaten a morsel of meat. what appeared to be cutlets, which i saw him eat later, were made of baked rice. i cautiously led the conversation to a former inmate of the house, who, in an indiscreet book upon the family of the count, made the assertion that the count was only nominally a vegetarian, but occasionally made up for his abstinence by secretly eating tender beefsteaks. it would mean nothing in and of itself if a habitual meat-eater, after going over to vegetarianism in a general way, should now and then indulge the craving for meat. the secrecy of the indulgence, however, would be a piece of that hypocrisy of which the count is accused by his most obstinate enemies. we received from the countess, however, an explanation of the circumstances in regard to the german woman's book. since the tolstoï family, however, have long since pardoned the repentant authoress, it would be indelicate of me to publish the ancient history. leo tolstoï is no hypocrite. he does not even consider it a duty to be a vegetarian. all the rest of his family, including the countess sasha, eat meat. tolstoï finds, however, that a vegetable diet agrees with him, and he therefore adheres to it without wishing to convert anybody else to the same belief, as vegetarians are accustomed to do. the count, in general, does not try to make any converts, brings no pressure to bear on any one. everybody may live exactly as he chooses, even in the bosom of the count's family. the countess sasha said, touchingly, "the only thing we can learn from him is whether a thing pleases him or not. that is enough, however, at least for me." nothing could be more touching than the relations between this last child remaining at home and her father. she hangs on his words. every wish of his, spoken half aloud, is quickly and silently fulfilled by her. since the marriage of the countess tatyana she has been his secretary, and her white hands operate the typewriter like those of the oldest amanuensis. she trills a little french song at the same time, and blushes to the neck when any one catches her at it and speaks of her sweet voice and accurate ear. work for her father is a higher satisfaction to her. she subordinates herself completely to his thoughts. she used to be, like every one else, a lover of shakespeare, but since she copied the latest work of her father upon, or rather against, shakespeare, she has been convinced and converted by his arguments. she said this without any affectation, with the sincerity of a child. it is to be seen that the deep tenderness of her love for her father springs from her care of him. she trembles for him. perhaps she exerts herself, too, to replace all the brothers and sisters who have gone out from the home. of nine living children--there were originally thirteen--she is the last. it is easy to see, too, how much the careful precautions of this daughter please the count. when his eyes rest on her face, beautiful with the distinction of race and maidenhood, it is as if a ray of light passed over his face. he does this, however, as if by stealth. his love is shy, as is hers. soon after luncheon the count sent me an invitation to join him. he had paused in his work to eat a few mouthfuls. meanwhile we might chat. we again sat at the same table. the talk turned on the war, against which the count was just writing an article. he made the observation that the right-minded russian was in a remarkable position. he contradicted all human feelings in wishing a defeat for his own nation. the bitterest misfortune that russia could meet, however, would be the continuance of the present criminal régime, which demands so many victims, inflicts so much suffering upon russia, and which, in case of victory, would only be strengthened. quite recently he had received a letter from a highly gifted writer, a certain semionov, whom he himself had discovered and taught. semionov, a peasant, had been a janitor in moscow, but on tolstoï's advice had returned to his father, and had written a little volume of stories, which tolstoï rates higher than those of gorki. now the gendarmes have confiscated everything he has, and, if i am not mistaken, have even arrested the writer. the pressure, the count says, is unendurable. i told him of my meeting with the cossack colonel in tula and of the hotel servants in moscow, who one and all wished to go to the scene of war for the sake of plunder. "certainly," answered the count. "the soldier must rejoice over every war, for war gives him for the first time a kind of title to existence in his own eyes. as to these house-servants and waiters, however, who are so ready to take part in the war, their love of fighting is nothing but common love of stealing. the europeans have rioted and plundered shamefully in china. the people of the lower classes suffer from these things, and thus all their evil instincts are awakened." i told the count of the officially arranged patriotic demonstrations in st. petersburg, of which i had been a witness, and in which alcohol had played its part. "yes, intoxication!" said the count; "they need that to make people forget that killing, robbery, and plunder are sins. if people only came to their senses they could no longer do these things; for nineteen hundred years of christianity, however falsified, leave their trail in the consciousness of man, and make it impossible for him to rage like the heathen. but everything is done to suppress religion. our upper classes have already completely lost religious consciousness. they either say 'away with this nonsense!' and become gross materialists, or they remain orthodox and do not themselves know what they believe--stupid stuff about the world's being created in six days and lasting only six thousand years. this trash, which is taught the people as religion--that is to say, belief in the schools--is just as much a means of hindering religion as a superficial knowledge of science. yet religion alone can free us from our evils, from war and violence, and bring men together again. religion is at present in a latent condition in every one, and needs only to be developed. and this religion is the same for all, for the native religious consciousness is quite the same in all men. but the churches prevent this unity, and bury this religious consciousness under forms and dogmas which produce a sort of stupefaction instead of satisfying the religious hunger." i repeated the amusing remark of the cossack colonel of tula, that tolstoï was a great man, only that it was a pity that he was an atheist. the poet laughed, with something like pain in the laugh. "there is always a certain amount of truth in which people believe, only it is misunderstood. to that good cossack faith and orthodoxy are identical. my own sister, who is in a convent, laments that her brother asserts that the gospel is the worst book that has ever been written. the truth is that i made this assertion about the legends of the saints, but it is misquoted. the authorities know what i think of the gospel. they have even struck out of the sermon on the mount two verses which i put into an alphabet for the people." "who struck them out?" i asked. "the censor, to be sure. an orthodox christian censorship strikes out of the sermon on the mount two verses which do not suit it. this is called christianity." the authorities give the tolstoï family the greatest difficulty in its work of educating the people. the village school was suppressed, because reading and writing were taught there and not orthodoxy. the instruction which the countess sasha now gives is quite unsystematic. five children come to her at the old manor, and are taught the black arts of reading, writing, arithmetic, and manual training, in constant danger that some high authority will interfere to ward off this injury to the state. "it is quite probable that we shall all be officially disciplined when my father is no longer living," the countess sasha said to us, with that calmness with which every one in russia sacrifices himself to his convictions. there was nothing pastoral, likewise nothing exalted, in tolstoï's manner during this conversation. after finishing his luncheon he rose and walked up and down the long dining-room with me, both hands in his belt, as he is painted by ryepin. he spoke conversationally, with no especial emphasis on any word, as to one whom there is no need of convincing. it was the afternoon conversation of an intelligent country gentleman with his guest--the easy, matter-of-course talking in a minute of resting--talk that is not meant to go deep or to philosophize. to me it proved only the lively interest taken by tolstoï in all the events of the day. he was not at all the hermit, merely preparing himself by holy deeds for heavenly glory, but an alert, vigorous, elderly man who watches events without eagerness or passion, yet with sufficient sympathy--an apostle unanointed, literally or figuratively. a half-hour's siesta was a necessity after the night spent in travel and the excitements of the morning. we rested, as did the whole house, in which at this time there was scarcely a sound. i do not know whether such stillness reigns in summer in the park, which now lay buried deep in snow. the house is very quiet now because it has become too large for the remaining occupants. a whole suite of simply furnished rooms on the ground floor stands entirely empty, and is awakened to life only when the married children come to visit. in the first floor, also, where the study and reception-room are, everything has become too large. after we had settled for our nap we heard only the click of the typewriter, on which the countess sasha was copying the manuscript her father had written in the morning, and the low song with which she accompanied her work. then the house awoke again. the count was about to take his ride. a fine black horse was led to the door, and the old count descended the stairs with his light, quick step. he now had the russian shawl around his neck and a broad woollen scarf belted about his body. he drew on his high felt overshoes and thick mittens, put the lambskin cap on his head, seized his riding-whip, and went out. a strange muzhik was waiting for him before the door. he had come from a distance to lay his case before the count. tolstoï listened to him, questioned him, and then called the servant. as he was not at hand, the count asked me to tell him to give the muzhik some money. then a foot in the stirrup, and, with the swing of a youth, the man of seventy-five seated himself in the saddle. it is easy to see, even now, that he must once have been a notable horseman and athlete. for, though strength of passion abates in an elderly man, he who has once had muscular training does not lose the effects of it. with a nod of the head the rider rapidly disappeared in the lane that leads to the main road. it was already growing dark when he returned, chilled through, and now noticeably altered. the cold had pinched his face; his eyelids were slightly reddened; eyebrows, mustache, and beard were thickly frosted. the change was only superficial, however. an hour later he was more fresh and vigorous than before, held himself erect, and spoke with ever-increasing animation. we, however, spent the afternoon in a walk in the village with the countess sasha. we had accepted her invitation with pleasure. she now appeared, humming, in a lively mood, slipped on a light gray circassian mantle and her little high overshoes, wound a long, red scarf about her, and put a gray circassian cap on her thick hair. nothing was ever more beautiful than this creature, so full of health and strength. she took a stout stick from the wall for protection from dogs, and then led us out into the deep snow, in which only a narrow path was trodden. even the deepest reverence does not require uncritical adoration. moreover, tolstoï is of such phenomenal importance for us all that the narrator who can communicate his own perceptions is bound to reproduce them with the most absolute fidelity. therefore, i believe i ought not to conceal the thoughts which refused to leave me during the walk through this village. i had to admire once more the deep humanity of the tolstoïs when i saw the countess sasha, in her beauty and purity, go into the damp, dirty hovels of the peasants, and caress the ragged and filthy children, just as katyusha, in _the resurrection_, kissed a deformed beggar on the mouth in easter greeting after the easter mass. this absolute christian brotherliness receives expression also in the whole attitude of the family. countess sasha says, quite in the spirit of her father: "the industrious peasant stands much higher morally than we who own the land and do not work it. otherwise he differs in no way from us in his virtues and vices." this brotherliness, however, has this shortcoming, that it leaves the brother where it finds him, and does not compel him to conform to different and more refined ways of living. the tolstoï family teaches the village children. it has established a little clinic in the village. but it does not make its influence felt in teaching the villagers personal cleanliness, taking, say, the german colonists in the south as a model. i cannot conceive of the peasants of yasnaya polyana looking as they would if the landlord were an english or dutch philanthropist instead of a russian; and i cannot believe, either, that the simplicity of manners or the warmth of brotherly love would suffer if the village looked, for instance, like those of the moravians, which shine with cleanliness. to be sure, the count refrains from any pressure on the people about him, and if his muzhik feels better unwashed, as his fathers were before him, and prefers a dirty, unaired room, shared with the dear cattle, to one in which he would have to take off his shoes to prevent soiling the floor, the count will not exhort him to change into a swabian or a dutchman. Æsthetic demands do not form any part of the tolstoï view of life--i believe that for this reason it will find slow acceptance in the west. there is the meekness and "lowliness" of early christianity, there is an anti-hellenic principle in the village dirt of yasnaya polyana. it is true that hellenism leads in its final outcome to the abominable "herrenmenschenthüm"[ ] of nietzsche, to nero's hatred of the "many too many." a predominant æsthetic valuation of the good things of life leads in a negative way to the immoral in conduct. every final consequence, however--that is, every extreme--is absurd; even absolute spirituality, indifferent to all outward things, as well as the heartless cult of mere external beauty. if we may learn from the muzhik patience in misfortune, we have also something to offer him in return for this in ideas of how to care for the body and of æsthetically refined ways of living. but leo tolstoï is an enemy of all compromise, and perhaps must be so. if the impulse towards the spiritualizing of our life, towards brotherly kindness and holiness, which goes out from him, is to work in its full force, it must be free from any foreign admixture, at least in him, its source. in the actual world counteracting forces are not wanting, moreover, and in some way the balance is always struck. the synthesis of nietzsche and tolstoï is really not so very hard to find. it was given long ago in the "kaho-kayadin" (beauty and goodness) of the ancients as well as in the rightly understood conception of the gentleman. if tolstoï's human ideal wears the form of the muzhik and flatly rejects every concession to the claims of an æsthetic culture, the fact leads back ultimately to the repulsion which the st. petersburg type of civilization must awaken in every unspoiled mind. one perceives there that luxury cannot uplift man. indeed, it is easy to come to the tolstoï conviction that it ruins instead of ennobling him. an isolated thinker like tolstoï reaches in this revulsion very extreme consequences. in any case the bodily uncleanness of the peasants is less unpleasant to him and his daughter than the moral impurity of the town dwellers. the dirt of the peasants is for him nature, like the clinging clay of the field. suppressing our thoughts, we followed our brave guide into the houses of the village. with a few blows of her stick she put to flight the snarling curs that stood in her way. in the first house there was great wretchedness. the muzhik lay sick on the oven, beside him a stunted, hunchback child. the wife sat at the loom, surrounded by a heap of other children, flaxen-haired and unspeakably filthy. half a dozen lambs shared the room and its frightful air with the peasants, sick and well. the young countess had a friendly word for each. one of the children was a pupil of hers, and was at that very time working at her writing lesson. this, of course, was praised. there was, however, something obsequiously cringing about the peasant woman i did not like. it was all quite different in the next house, which belonged to a rich muzhik. he likewise lay on the oven. the room was lighter, thanks to a larger window, but the floor was equally dirty, and the inevitable lambs were pushing each other about in the straw in the same way. at our entrance the muzhik awoke and got up. his mighty brown beard almost covered his breast, which showed through his open shirt, and was covered with a thick crust. this peasant, however, read the paper, spoke of the war, and put a very interesting question. a little while before the countess sasha had been at his house with bryan, who had visited her father. the muzhik and his visitor had become rather friendly. now the muzhik read in the paper that the americans are enemies of russia. how about his friend bryan? the countess, therefore, had to tell him whether bryan had now become his personal enemy. she reassured him, laughing. the peasant woman accompanied us out of the house, and made the characteristic speech: "i am ashamed; we live here like pigs; but what is any one to do? we are so, and can't help it!" in the same house is the little village hospital, which for the present is only a movable affair. this is kept really clean. the amount of illness is large. the peasants from the surrounding country come also, and the doctor often has to treat forty patients in a single office hour. he is said to be an able man and a good one--a matter of course in tolstoï's vicinity. whether one wishes it or not, one is drawn out here in the atmosphere of pure kindliness. when i came back from the village i was almost ashamed that i had held my breath in the peasant's room. footnote: [ ] the theory that the elect few alone deserve to live and that the masses are superfluous. xxx a visit to tolstoÏ--_continued_ at six o'clock we were summoned to dinner, at which the count appeared. as entrée there were baked fish--for the count, rice cutlets--then a roast and vegetables, of which the count took only the latter; then dessert and black coffee. we drank kvass, later tea, with cakes. everything was very well prepared. a man-servant waited at table. it is by no means petty to tell all this. the tolstoïs do not live on locusts and wild honey, but like other good families in russia. we have, thank heaven, outgrown the days when genius had to assert itself by extravagant conduct. brilliant originality is entirely compatible with conformity to custom in all every-day usages, according to our way of thinking. conversely, all originality immediately becomes suspicious in our eyes when it labors to assert itself in trifles. "a wise man behaves like other people." the individuality of tolstoï shows in no way the stamp of the idle wish to differentiate itself in each and every particular from other people. no one will expect me to reproduce every detail of the conversation, which began at dinner and ended almost six hours later at the house door. i certainly have not forgotten a word of it, but i cannot answer for the order of succession of subjects, nor even for every expression and every turn of speech. i therefore reconstruct from memory only what seems to me the most important, and ask every indulgence for this report. it is as faithful as is possible to human inadequacy after such fatigues and excitements, and with rather tardy notes. "i am now under the influence of two germans," began the count. "i am reading kant and lichtenberg--selections, to be sure, for i do not possess an original edition. i am fascinated by the clearness and grace of their style, and in particular by lichtenberg's keen wit." "goethe says, 'when lichtenberg makes a jest, a whole system is hidden behind it,'" i threw in. "i do not understand how the germans of to-day can so neglect their writer and go so mad over a coquettish feuilletonist like nietzsche. he is no philosopher, and has no honest purpose of seeking and speaking the truth." "but he has an unprecedented polish of style, and an endless amount of temperament." "schopenhauer seems to me greater as a stylist. still, i agree with you that he has a glittering polish, though it is only the facile grace of the feuilletonist, which does not entitle him to a place among the great thinkers and teachers of humanity." "he flatters, however, the aristocratic instincts of the new-germans, who have attained power and honor, and he works against the evils of socialism." "what is the condition of socialism in germany?" asked the count, immediately, with great interest. "i fear it has lost in depth and strength what it has gained in breadth." "you may be right," he answered. "i have the same impression. the belief in its invincibility is broken, and its internal strength of conviction begins to weaken. it had to be so. socialism cannot free humanity. no system and no doctrine can do that--nothing but religion." "the church says that, too." "but she teaches it falsely. what is religion? the striving of each individual soul towards perfection; the subordination to an ideal. as long as a man has that he feels a purpose in life, can endure all sufferings, and is capable of any strain. it does not need necessarily to be a lofty ideal. a man may have an ambition to develop his biceps to an uncommon degree. if he takes this as his particular purpose in life this aim carries him along completely. to be sure, a man's choice of an ideal can be only apparently capricious. in reality we are all products of our environment; and after nineteen hundred years of christianity we cannot with any true conviction set up ideals which contradict the real christianity. we can make ourselves believe something else for a while. but the conscience will not submit to be silenced. peace is attained only by the religious ideal of perfection and of love of humanity. nothing is deadly except cynicism and nihilism." "i remember your metaphor, comparing a society without religion or moral enthusiasm to an orchestra that has lost its leader. it keeps in time for a while, then come the discords." "we are now in the first measure after his departure. all will go well for a while, but then every one will get out of time; the leaders first, because they are most exposed to temptation; then, class by class, the lower ones also." "i believe a state is like a magnet, in which every smallest particle must have its direction, or else the whole loses its strength and cohesion." "exactly. a state or a society, like the individual, is fit for life only so long as it feels as a whole a reason for being. this life principle of totality is, however, identical with the idea of the individual. it is the stream that encircles each particle and brings it into polarity." "people try to reach it by the ideal of nationalism and patriotism." "that is no ideal. it is an absurd idea, which immediately comes into irreconcilable conflict with our better feelings. an ideal that can and does require me to kill my neighbor in order to gain an advantage for the group to which i belong is criminal." "yet it is dangerous to stand out against it. you had a controversy on that point with spielhagen, who cast it up to you that you incline people to fling themselves under the wheels of a flying express-train." "i remember. but spielhagen does not know how many people already comply with the requirements of the gospel. the doukhobors are such people." "but they were obliged to leave the country." "what difference does that make? they were able to remain true to themselves. that is better than remaining at home. and when we have once changed education, and have taken the sinful glorification of deeds of murder out of the hands of our children, then there will be not merely thousands, but millions, who will refuse to sacrifice themselves, or have themselves murdered for the ambition or the material advantage of a few individuals. and then this chapter of world-history will end." "but the school is a matter of politics, and the state or the influential classes will be careful not to permit an education that will make their lower classes unavailable for purposes of war." "certainly. and as long as there is a church which by its fundamental teaching delivers itself over as an assistant to the state, and which blesses weapons of murder, so long will it be hard to fight against the evil instincts thus aroused. but school, of course, does not end man's education. later reading is much more important. we have, therefore, created something that might well be imitated abroad also, our 'posrednik,' books for the people. the thing that suppresses bad reading among the people is good books, especially stories. the books are sold very cheaply. our artists design frontispieces for them. you must look at them in moscow. i will give you a letter to the publisher, my friend ivan ivanovitch gorbunov, who can tell you the details." he did so. with his kind letter i afterwards looked up gorbunov in moscow. under the pressure of the russian censorship he accomplishes the immense work of spreading among the people every year several million good books at a cost of a few kopeks each, without having needed to add to his original capital of thirty thousand rubles. i fulfil a duty, and at the same time a wish of tolstoï's, in here calling attention most emphatically to this magnificent russian enterprise, which should be an example for all other nations. i took up the subject of socialism again, and said, "in the west, social democracy is trying to solve the problem of educating the masses and to emancipate them." "this is certainly meritorious," replied the count. "the mistake lies in the teaching of the social democrats that some other organization of society will automatically abolish evil from the world. the principal thing, however, is always to raise the individual to better morals and better ways of thinking. without this no system can be permanent. each leads only to new violence. people ought not to wish to better the world, but to better themselves." "in that you agree essentially with our moderns, who likewise take a stand against socialism and preach an extreme individualism. i see in that only a reactionary manoeuvre, however." "how so?" asked the count. "i believe that all wars for culture are always fought in a small class of thinking people. for the masses, provision for material needs is really the principal thing. in the thinking class, however, there are two parties: one, consisting of the feudalists, the plutocrats, and university-bred business men, fortune-hunters, seeks for itself the privilege of exploiting others; the other consists of the idealists, who desire progress--that is, the education and freeing of the masses. sometimes the one class, with its aristocratic philosophy of profit, wins the upper hand, sometimes the other. we do not yet know in what hellenic or sidonian laws the spiritual ebb and flow will find its consummation. it is certain, however, that each party uses as a means of attraction the declaration that its point of view is the more progressive and that the opposite is the losing side. the individualists, in their scorn of socialism, render the most valuable service towards fundamental and complete reaction to the aristocratic-plutocratic party of exploitation, because they spread confusion in the ranks of the idealists by discrediting their solidarity. nevertheless, they call themselves "the moderns," and dub the advocates of solidarity 'old fogies.' the most modern thing in the west is a vile cult of the uebermensch (over-man) renaissance sentimentalism and the cult of beauty in bearing--æsthetic snobism." "all that originates with nietzsche. the mistake, however, does not lie in the principle of individualism, which does not exclude solidarity, but, on the contrary, advances it. for the individual unquestionably attains solidarity in the very struggle towards his own perfection. the mistake lies in the æstheticism, in the basing of life on externals and on enjoyment. connected with this is the strangest thing of all, that this resurrection of the madness of the renaissance has not made use of art. for all that is produced is nothing but pure silliness. i have not laughed so much for years as at an entirely serious account of the contents of _mona vanna_, or at the poems which our æsthete and decadent balmont read to me. none of those things are to be taken seriously as art. they will only confuse people through their absurdity, which could not exist if the healthy human understanding had not been brought into discredit. it is no better with you in germany. why is your literary product so low?" "who knows, count? it has already been asserted that since the gifted minds have turned to more serious and more lucrative callings than literature. but i do not believe it. the sciences show at present just as few geniuses as the arts. it seems as if there were laws of ebb and flow here, too. sometimes a whole billow of inspired intellects is flung upon the earth, and then there is long drought. we have had no great writers since gottfried keller." "gottfried keller? i have never heard the name before. who was he? what did he write?" "he was a swiss who inherited goethe's free outlook on life, and wrote the best german novels, full of creative art, of racy humor, and of almost uncanny knowledge of human nature. he would give you much pleasure." "how? you say he inherits to some degree from goethe. in that case my enthusiasm would be doubtful, for i cannot say i especially love that goethe of yours." "is it possible?" "there are some of his works i admire without reserve, which stand among the finest things that have ever been written: _hermann and dorothea_, for instance. i once knew his dedication by heart. yet the lyrics of heine, for instance, make a deeper impression upon me than goethe's." "pardon the remark, count, but in that case your knowledge of the german language is not sufficient for you to notice the difference in quality. heine is a virtuoso, who plays with form. with goethe, every word breathes the deepest spiritual experience and is uttered from inward necessity." "the same thing is said here of pushkin--that his greatness can be appreciated only by those who are most deeply imbued with the spirit of the language. i haven't any too much faith in all that, however. to be sure, a translation is only the wrong side of the carpet; yet i believe really great works hold their own in translation, so the form of phrase cannot be the only test for the value of a writing. but what repels me in goethe is precisely that play on form of which you accuse heine. goethe and shakespeare are both artists in the sense in which you reproach the moderns. they are bent only upon æsthetic play, and create only for enjoyment, and not with the heart's blood." "i could not admit that, count, without repudiating everything i have ever thought and felt. not for shakespeare, in whom, through all the dramatic conventions of the greater part, we hear the heartbeat often enough. as for goethe, whose poems are partly painful confessions, written only for the reason he himself gives, "warum sucht' ich den weg so sehnsuchtsvoll wenn ich ihn nicht den brüdern zeigen soll?"[ ] "i find much more of this feeling for humanity in schiller." "he is more rhetorical, appeals more directly to the middle class and contemporaries. but, like the overbearing political tribune he was, he has hardly entered into the joy and sorrow of the human soul." "and it is exactly this that brings him nearer to me than goethe and shakespeare. he is filled with a sacred sense of purpose in his work. he had not the cold ambition of the artist to be merely faithful to his model. he was full of longing that we should be carried away with him. of the three requirements i make of the great artist--technical perfection, worthiness of subject, and self-identification with the matter--the last is the most important. one may be a great writer even when technical perfection, complete mastery of the tricks of the trade, is lacking, as, for instance, in the case of dostoyevski. but unless a man writes with his heart's blood he cannot be a great artist." "i believe the heart's-blood doctrine would rule out all cheerful _genre_, and that meets perhaps best of all the fundamental purpose of art." "you say that because you yourself see in art only a means of enjoyment, only play." i could not have denied that this is really my conception, and should, therewith, have hit upon the fundamental opposition between our western conception of life, as expressed by goethe, and the exclusively religio-moral one of tolstoï. i could not, however, compel myself to fill with a fruitless argument the few hours i had to spend with the honored man. i should have been as little able to convince the apostle of seventy-five, whose ascetic philosophy is the product of definite conditions of civilization, as he to convince me, the west-german, whose light-heartedness and confident belief in culture had ripened in the sunshine of the rhine bank. i therefore evaded the point, and said: "i have hitherto not taken your rigorous demands upon art as well as upon life quite literally, count. i thought to myself that when one pulls up a horse suddenly he does not wish it to turn around, but only to stop. i supposed that you wished merely to counteract other powerful impulses." "no," said the count, after a moment's reflection. "that is not so. i believe in the absolute correctness of my demands. i myself, however, was too weakly or too badly trained to submit to them altogether. i cannot, for instance, keep from enjoying chopin, although i condemn his music as exclusive art, which addresses itself to the understanding and feelings only of the aristocratically cultivated few." "it seems to me an unattainable ideal that all men should share in enjoyment of art; and the requirement that the artist shall refrain from all work that could be enjoyed only by a limited number of especially cultivated men is impossible and even harmful. it would deprive us of the finest works we possess." "if the requirement is justified in and of itself, it is quite immaterial what sacrifices must be made to it. nothing is to be considered in comparison with truth." i could go no further here, again. for i was talking with the man who repudiates his own immortal works because they are beyond the comprehension of most people, and therefore help to widen the gulf between the educated and the uneducated. i could not even make the objection that almost all learning must be condemned on the same ground, for it is well known that tolstoï does not shrink from even this conclusion. it is not, however, a matter of indifference to him whether people consider his views to be scientifically founded--_i. e._, correctly reasoned out or not. he said to me in the course of the conversation: "i often laugh, and i also often grow angry, when people cast it in my face that my studies are not scientific. i assert in return that the whole of positivism and materialism is unscientific. if i seek a science by which i can _live_, i seek it only logically and steadfastly, or scientifically, with no contradiction within itself from its premises to its final conclusion. scepticism, on the other hand, completely denies every concept of life. and yet the sceptic wishes to live, otherwise he would kill himself. he admits, therefore, by the mere fact that he is alive that his whole philosophy is nothing for him but an idle exercise of the intellect which has no bearing on his life. that means that it is not in the least _true_ for him. i, however, seek the premise from which i can not only live, but live peacefully and cheerfully. this premise is god, and the duty for us that of perfecting ourselves. i follow the consequence of that premise to the end, and feel that i am right not only in words but also in deeds." no truly scientific thinker needs to be reminded that tolstoï here, in the _a priori_ assumption that life must have a meaning, departs from the fundamental principle of all scientific reasoning--namely, the starting without a hypothesis, and, like kant, to whom he feels drawn not without reason, works with postulates instead of with conclusions. but who will not rejoice that the poet, who above all things was and is a passionate human creature, has saved himself from the despair of agnosticism by a bold leap to the rock of faith, which lies beyond all science, and can neither be supported nor shaken by it? how many of the proud agnostics do not secretly cast furtive glances at that rock, where they would like to reserve themselves a place against emergencies? while tolstoï sincerely acknowledges that without this foundation under his feet he would no longer be able to live. he needed this quieting as to the outcome of things to be able to follow his poetic impulse to look at the world as it is. only entirely barren, abstract natures find their satisfaction in the voluntarily limited logical sequence of science, confined as it is to the empirical. all men of imagination, including goethe and bismarck, have had their share of mystic confidence in that beneficent course of the universe which in popular language is called god or providence. this poetic faith has, of course, nothing whatever to do with science. undervaluation of one's own qualities, however, and enthusiasm for the complementary ones, is a familiar psychological fact. the poet tolstoï wishes to be a cut-and-dried philosopher. he repudiates his poetry, and likewise speaks coldly--indeed, even with hostility--of the spirits akin to him, of goethe and shakespeare. there is only one opinion among lovers of art, and that is that tolstoï, in the natural spontaneity of his characters and incidents, is to be compared with these two alone, and in the abundance of his psychological traits with shakespeare only. yet at present tolstoï is engaged in writing a book, soon to appear, against shakespeare and the study of shakespeare. in our conversation he came back to the indefensible over-estimation of this artist. "if people were capable of approaching shakespeare impartially they would lose their unreasonable reverence for this writer. he is crude, immoral, a toady to the great, an arrogant despiser of the small, a slanderer of the common people. he lacks good taste in his jests, is unjust in his sympathies, ignoble, intoxicated with the acquaintance with which a few aristocrats honored him. even his art is over-estimated, for in every case the best comes from his predecessors or his sources. but people are quite blind. they are under the spell of the consensus of opinion handed down for centuries. it is truly incredible what ideas can be awakened in the human mind by consecutive treatments of one and the same theme." i believe that one will not go astray in finding in the above-mentioned book against shakespeare a prosecution at the same time of tolstoï's campaign against the æsthetic-artistic view of life in general. his purpose is to overthrow one of the chief idols of the æsthetic cult. as far as the arguments on the moral side are concerned, he will certainly have a following. the son of a tavern-keeper, himself an actor, shakespeare was certainly not the ideal of a gentleman. tolstoï will, however, have difficulty in abolishing wonder at the artistic power of this most sumptuous of all geniuses. tolstoï dealt with the influence of general opinion again in another connection. he was speaking of the mischief that the newspapers do in the world, but chose, in my opinion, a very inappropriate example of this. "during the dreyfus case," said he, "i received at least a thousand letters from all parts of the world asking me to express an opinion. how could i have responded? here i am in russia; the transaction was in france. it was absolutely impossible to get a correct idea of the proceedings, for every paper reported it differently. in and of itself, what was the thing that had happened? an innocent officer had been condemned. that was an unimportant occurrence. there were much greater crimes committed by those in power. but the whole world took the alarm. everybody had an incontrovertible conviction as to the guilt or the innocence of a man whom nobody knew, and whose judges nobody knew. a thing like that is an epidemic, not thinking." one must certainly travel a very strange and lonely road to fail to appreciate that in this very instance the press accomplished an enormous work in arousing mankind, and in showing them the danger threatening from the jesuits. the dreyfus affair belongs to world-history as an epoch-making event. perhaps the deliverance of the whole white race from the octopus-like embrace of clericalism and militarism is its work. and count tolstoï, who regards it as his mission to fight militarism, lives through the chief battle and does not suspect it! one certainly ought not to forget that he is in russia, where the incarceration of innocent men is an every-day affair, and that the russian papers think they fulfil their duty to an allied nation by treating the matter from the stand-point of méline and marcier. tolstoï's antipathy to this affair does not come at all from any possible anti-semitic feeling. he does not love the mercantile jews, who have not the slightest trace of christian spirit. he condemns anti-semitism, however, in the most emphatic way. "anti-semitism," he said, "is not a misfortune for the jews, for he who suffers wrong is not to be pitied, but he who does wrong. anti-semitism demoralizes society. it is the worst evil of our time, for it poisons whole generations. it makes them blind to right and wrong, and kills all moral feeling. it changes the soul into a place of desolation in which all goodness and nobility are swept away." in regard to other matters, tolstoï does not use strong expressions. he parries them good-humoredly but decisively. when we were talking of the new romanticists, i used some severe language. i explained the uproarious applause of certain gifted but degenerate and perverse artists as a cynical attack on the inborn moral sense, and said, speaking from my own experience, that i had yet to meet one of those devotees of immorality whom i had not found on closer acquaintance to be morally deficient. when, however, i spoke of literary support of vice, the count raised his hand to stop me, and said: "let us be gentle in our judgment of our fellow-men." then he added, "go on." i had, however, gained command of myself and begged pardon for my vehemence. i could not go on, however, for what had been on my tongue was only more bitter words. he looked at me kindly, and merely said, "thank you." it is self-evident that tolstoï did not mean by this to express sympathy with the diabolics and other eccentrics. moreover, he spoke flatly against art for art's sake, which he calls tiresome more than anything else. "agonized productions of the search for originality, welcomed by idleness, and intended for the applause of the critics of so-called fine taste." he shrugged his shoulders over the fact that a monument had been erected to baudelaire. he agreed with me, however, when i traced the interest in exotic suggestion in the creative arts, as for everything eccentric and bizarre, back to the tendency towards an entirely external naturalism, which would completely rule out from art the personality of the artist. he returned again to his text. "without the deepest sympathy and complete identification with the subject no work of art can ever be produced." he does not admit, however, that this identification with the subject is found in the experiments of these latter-day writers. he sees in them only a sudden change from the fashion for objectivity to the fashion for subjectivity. when, however, i spoke of the good-fortune of the russian in not being obliged to take part in all these fashions, because he had already showed in his deep-hearted realism that it is possible to be true to reality, and yet be full of warmth and meaning, he again raised his hand to stop me, and blushed. i could not tell whether it was from modesty or whether he does not wish any longer to hear of the works of his "literary" period. i believe, however, that the noise of all this no longer reaches his ear. when i spoke with warm enthusiasm of the debt we all owe him, said that his art was a revelation to us, that through him we had first learned what poetic power lies in the simplest and deepest fidelity to nature, he stopped me in his gentle way. only philanthropy is now a matter of any importance for him. everything else is empty trifling. he said to me: "you are still buried deep in materialism. you must see that you free yourself from that." nevertheless, he was good enough to recognize my honest purpose of seeking the truth, even though i do not succeed in finding it in all points as he believes he has found it. i must certainly admit that in the late hours of the night, as he sat opposite me, his fine head leaning far back and resting on one hand, his glowing eyes making him seem as it were transparent, i had great difficulty in preserving a conventional bearing. here was one of the greatest men of all times, who had risen out of the purely human and had become a saint upon whom rests the divine light. the kindness and tenderness of his voice and the gentleness of his words are indescribable. he has the love and the dauntless courage of the prophet and the apostle without their passion and wrath. it is doubtful whether any mortal has ever had more understanding of human weakness than he. he combats only institutions, never men. and yet no other man has had such influence upon our consciences as he, most compassionate of all judges in spite of the pitiless keenness of his vision. it was midnight when the count's sleigh took us to kozlovka, the nearest station to the estate. in leaving i could not conceal the extent to which i was moved. when i think of the final moments, when the count stood at the head of the stairs and called a last word after me, while i turned to him to say good-bye once more and forever, it seems to me that i never in my life experienced anything more overwhelming. i carried away an impression that the whole hall was filled with the light of his eyes. yet it was only a prosaic bit of advice for our return trip to moscow, to give which he had hurried after us after the adieus in his study. the countess sasha, however, stood in the starlight by the door, lovely as a goddess of hospitality. it was gratifying to know that the saintly old man was in the care of this lovely creature. under the twinkling stars we sped at a brisk trot past black forests and over the silent, deep-buried fields. within us re-echoed the saying of kant, "two things there are that always fill me with reverent awe: the starry heavens above me and the moral consciousness within." the man whose hand i had just grasped embodies the moral consciousness of our century. footnote: [ ] "why do i seek the way so ardently, if not that i might show it to my brothers?" the end generously made available by the internet archive/american libraries.) [illustration: kosciuszko. _born in poland a.d. . died the th. october near solothurn in switzerland. he and g'al. lafayette were the only two europeans who wore the cross of the order of cincinnatus._ _dedicated to the american people._ _entered according to act congress by paulin miedzielsky, n.-york, ._] history of the late polish revolution, and the events of the campaign. by joseph hordynski, major of the late tenth regiment of lithuanian lancers. fourth edition. boston: printed for subscribers. . entered according to act of congress, in the year , by joseph hordynski, in the clerk's office of the district of massachusetts. to the great and free nation of the united states of america. liberated from prison, and from the prospect of a more gloomy future, by some of your fellow citizens, i have been so fortunate as to reach these happy shores. providence has granted me to behold that fair country, and that nation, which every lover of freedom desires to see with his own eyes, and every freeman of poland is wont to think of with love and esteem. your land, long since the asylum of the persecuted, has welcomed me with hearty benevolence. from the first moment of my arrival to the present time, i have received daily proofs of your sympathy. full of gratitude, and in the hope of doing you an acceptable service, i cannot better employ the moments allowed me during my stay among you, than by giving you a faithful account of our revolution, and of its true causes and motives, as well as of the events of the war by which it was followed. by a brief statement of the circumstances which brought about that revolution, i wish to inform you of the injustice and outrages, which my nation was compelled to endure, during fourteen years, in which both its natural rights, and the constitution solemnly guarantied to it, were trampled under foot. by a true account of the events of the ensuing war, you will be enabled to convince yourselves of the means by which small forces became victorious over a colossal power, as well as of the causes of the final catastrophe to which poland has been doomed. i am convinced that in many respects my narrative will be entirely opposed to the representations given in the public papers; for our land, like most countries struggling for liberty, was surrounded by enemies rather than friends. the sources from which these accounts have been drawn, are, first, my own recollections of events of which i was an eye-witness; secondly, the reports of my friends and comrades who were present; and lastly, (particularly as to the operations of the detached corps) the official reports of the army, which have not yet escaped my memory. the same course i have followed in the design of the plans, which have been traced partly from my own recollections of positions and scenes at which i was present, partly from the accurate reports of friends, and partly from public reports, assisted by my personal knowledge of localities. americans! i am neither an author nor a scholar by profession, but a simple republican and soldier. in such a one you will forgive faults in the form and style of writing. do not then judge me as a writer, but see in me an unhappy pole, who presents to your sympathies the picture of the fatal disasters of his unfortunate country, and of the manner in which it strove to regain its liberty, that first and greatest of national blessings. in this hope of your indulgence, i beg you to accept this work as a token of my gratitude and as a memorial of my short stay among you, as well as an expression of the great esteem, with which i shall always remain, americans, your devoted servant, joseph hordynski. to the gentlemen who have aided me, by the translation, the execution of the plates, and the publication of the work, i offer the only recompense which they will permit me to make--my heartfelt thanks; and i assure them that in the feelings which prompt this acknowledgment, all my comrades will participate. j.h. pronunciation.--_to the reader._ there are difficulties in the way of accurate rules for the pronunciation of polish words arising from the circumstance that some letters have varieties of sound which are indicated by signs in the polish alphabet, and which cannot be represented in the english. thus, the letter _z_ has, in addition to that of the english _z_ the sounds of _jet_ and _zet_; the first indicated by a short line and the second by a dot placed over the letter. it has therefore been thought more for the convenience of readers, who may wish to know the english pronunciation of the names which occur in this work, to subjoin an alphabetical list of them and their pronunciation, than to give rules which must necessarily be imperfect. this list will be found at the end of the volume. [illustration: casimir pulaski, _the undaunted chief of the poles during the confederacy of bar from to . born in & killed before savannah in while fighting for the liberty & independence of these u.s._ _dedicated to the american people._ _entered according to act of congress by paulin miedzielsky, n.-york, ._] contents. chapter i. geographical extent, population, and political importance of poland, as anciently constituted.--conduct of napoleon in .--congress of vienna.--grand-duchy of warsaw erected into a kingdom.--dispositions of alexander.--zajaczek appointed viceroy, and constantine commander of the army.--constantine encroaches upon the civil administration.--acts of tyranny.--meeting of the diet.--public debates suppressed.--the polish conspiracy of .--the russian conspiracy of .--union of the patriotic associations.--death of alexander.--the revolt at st petersburgh.--punishment of the patriots.--coronation of nicholas.--constantine appointed viceroy of poland.--oppressions of the government.--patriotic club.--influence of the french and belgic revolutions.--the quartering-tax.--excitement in warsaw.--arrest of the students at praga.--day of the revolution fixed upon. page chapter ii. principles of the revolution.--the first night.--attack on the barracks of the russian cavalry.--their dispersion.--attempt to secure the person of the grand duke.--capture of russian general officers and spies.--actions with detached bodies of russian cavalry.--two companies of polish light-infantry join the patriots.--death of potocki and trembicki.--the russian infantry attacked and dispersed.--armament and assembling of the people.--detachments sent to praga. chapter iii. the first day.--expulsion of the russians from warsaw.--choice of chlopicki as commander in chief.--provisional government, under the presidency of prince adam czartoryski.--deputation sent to the grand duke.--propositions and answer.--abolition of the bureau of police.--establishment of the national guard.--proclamations addressed to the inhabitants of the provinces and the distant troops.--provision for the russian prisoners.--the academical legions formed.--arrival of detachments from the provinces.--the grand duke consents to leave the kingdom, and addresses a proclamation to the poles. chapter iv. the patriotic club commences its sessions.--character of that association.--the grand duke departs for the frontier.--particulars of his march.--the polish regiments which had remained with him return to warsaw.--their reception.--krasynski and kornatowski.--deputation to st petersburgh.--demands to be laid before the emperor.--sierawski made governor of warsaw, and wasowiez chief of the staff.--order respecting the army.--arrival of volunteers from the interior.--opening of the theatre.--religious solemnities at praga.--chlopicki nominated and proclaimed dictator. page chapter v. the dictator enters upon his duties.--plans for the enrollment of new forces.--system of officering them.--want of energy in the execution of his plans.--fortifications neglected.--the people supply the deficiencies of the administration.--discovery of the correspondence between the ministers grabowski and lubecki.--the march of the army delayed.--answer of the emperor nicholas to the deputies.--his proclamation.--its effect on the nation.--the diet demand of the dictator an account of his trust.--the result of their investigations.--chlopicki deprived of the dictatorial power.--the civil administration entrusted to prince adam czartoryski, and the command of the army to prince michael radziwil, each subordinate to the diet. chapter vi. remarks on the policy of the late dictator.--system of operations adopted.--the army leaves warsaw.--statement of the existing forces.--of the forces proposed to be raised.--unfortunate consequences of the delay in the preparation of the forces.--statement of the force with which the war was actually commenced. chapter vii. entrance of the russian forces into the kingdom.--proclamations of marshal diebitsch.--their effect.--disposition of the russian and polish forces.--plan of operations of the poles. chapter viii. the opening fire.--affairs of the th and th february.--combat of stoczek.--disposition in consequence of that battle.--battle of boimie.--retrograde movement to dobre.--combat of makowiec.--passage of the orsyca.--combat of dobre.--attack on the right wing at minsk. chapter ix. retrograde movement of the th of february.--details of this movement, and of the actions which took place.--the army reaches the field of praga.--its reception at warsaw.--position of the army.--battle of wawr and bialolenka.--operations of general dwernicki against the corps of prince wirtemberg.--defeat of that corps by general dwernicki at swierza.--renewal of the enemy's attack on the main army on the th.--its successful resistance.--review of the events of the preceding days.--examination of the plan of operations of the polish army. page chapter x. proceedings of the national government.--marshal diebitsch continues in a state of inactivity.--negotiations are opened by him.--his propositions are declined.--position of the army on the th, and battle of bialolenka.--position on the th.--great battle of grochow.--details.--state of the russian army after its defeat.--examination of the plan of the battle of grochow.--remarks upon the course adopted by prince radziwil after that victory.--the polish army crosses the vistula to warsaw.--its reception by the national government and the citizens.--resignation of prince radziwil. chapter xi. passage of the vistula to warsaw.--disposition of the polish forces on its left bank.--appointment of general john skrzynecki to the chief command.--proclamation.--prompt attention is given to the re-organization of the army, the arsenals and manufactories of arms, the fortifications, &c.--deportment of the commander in chief towards the army.--general enthusiasm of the nation.--the patriotic offers of the polish women.--new regulations established for conferring orders of merit.--disorderly state of the russian army.--attempt of diebitsch to bribe the polish soldiery. --general view of the encouraging circumstances of this epoch.--the insurrection in russia under yermolow.--view of the state of the polish forces when general skrzynecki took the chief command.--he presses the organization of the new forces.--their distribution and that of the general forces.--positions of the polish army and the detached corps.--russian position. chapter xii. operations of the corps of general dwernicki against the russian corps under the prince of wirtemberg, in the palatinate of lublin. --battle of pulawy, and defeat of wirtemberg.--atrocities of that prince at pulawy.--pursuit of the enemy.--battle of kurow, and annihilation of wirtemberg's corps.--operations of colonel valentin, between modlin and pultusk.--a detachment of the enemy is surprised at nasielsk.--transports of provisions for the enemy from prussia taken.--successful skirmishes.--marshal diebitsch demands the capitulation of the fortress of modlin. reply of colonel leduchowski.--a detachment from the garrison of modlin attacks and defeats a russian force at serock.--general skrzynecki makes an offer of pacification on the basis of the concessions originally demanded by the poles.--this proposition is rejected and hostilities are recommenced.--reconnoissance upon the right bank of the vistula under jankowski and gielgud.--a russian corps under general witt is sent against dwernicki.--general uminski is sent against the russian guard.--first encounter.--the russian guard is compelled to leave their position for ostrolenka.--the guard evacuates ostrolenka to join the grand army. chapter xiii. plan of general skrzynecki to act upon the isolated corps of rosen and gaismer.--battle of wawr.--various detachments of the enemy are taken after that battle, and a great number of prisoners.--battle of dembe-wielkie.--destructive pursuit of the enemy by our cavalry.--view of the russian losses in the preceding days.--marshal diebitsch abandons his plan of crossing the vistula, and marches to the rescue of the remains of the corps of rosen and gaismer, and the imperial guard.--view of the position of the two armies, after the second repulse of the enemy from before warsaw.--operations of general dwernicki.--successes of a reconnoissance under colonel russyian at uscilog.--effect of dwernicki's victories on the inhabitants of the provinces.--acknowledgment of general dwernicki's services by the national government.--the instructions for his future operations. chapter xiv. the insurrection in lithuania.--dispositions of the lithuanians at the breaking out of our revolution.--their offers of co-operation were rejected by the dictator.--view of the condition of lithuania under the russian sway.--scheme of the russian government to destroy all polish national feeling in that province.--the insurrection is brought about by the massacre of the patriots at osmiany.--capture of numerous towns by the insurgents, and dispersion of their garrisons.--storm of wilno, and delivery of prisoners.--several partizan corps are formed.--their destination and successes. chapter xv. plan of operation against the two corps of rosen and kreutz.--battle of iganie.--reflections on the state of the polish cause after the victory of iganie.--review of the course of the campaign.--condition of the russian army.--discontents in russia.--representations of the senate at st petersburgh to the emperor.--comparative view of the forces of the two armies at the present stage of the conflict. chapter xvi. position of the two armies after the battle of iganie.--plan of a simultaneous attack upon the russian forces upon opposite sides.--instructions to the different corps.--operations on the enemy's front.--unfortunate operations of general sierawski, and the _first defeat_.--details of those operations.--operations of general dwernicki.--he defeats rudiger; but by a false operation exposes himself to be attacked disadvantageously by two russian corps.--in the course of the action the austrian frontier is passed by the combatants.--an austrian force interposes, and general dwernicki consents to go into camp.--his arms and prisoners are taken from him, while the enemy is permitted to leave the territory freely.--reflections on the conduct of austria.--consequences of the loss of dwernicki's corps.--the cholera makes its appearance in the two armies. chapter xvii. the russian commander resumes offensive operations.--object of the attack of the th of april.--combat of kuflew.--general dembinski evacuates the position of kuflew and awaits the enemy at bady.--battle of minsk.--the enemy suddenly evacuates his position.--reflections on this stage of the conflict.--positions of the two armies. chapter xviii. general skrzynecki resumes the offensive.--he decides to adopt an enlarged plan of operations, and to make the revolutionized provinces supply the place of a corps d'armee.--the corps of chrzanowski is sent to occupy the russian corps of witt and kreutz.--admirable execution of this enterprise.--attack on kock.--attack of rudiger's camp.--plan of operations by the main army against the russian guard.--forced march from kaluszyn by praga to serock.--advanced post of the guard attacked and defeated.--the corps of saken is cut off.--the d division under gielgud sent into lithuania.--the imperial guard are driven with great loss beyond the frontier.--retrograde movement. chapter xix. the lithuanians compel two russian corps to evacuate samogitia.--operations of general chlapowski in the department of bialystok.--capture of bielsk.--defeat of a russian force at narewka and expulsion of the enemy from the department.--recapitulation of the forces which had been sent into lithuania.--operations of the main army.--attempt of marshal diebitsch to intercept skrzynecki on his retrograde march, by a diversion to ostrolenka.--general lubinski surprises the russian advanced guard at czyzew.--marshal diebitsch attacks the polish rear-guard at kleczkowo.--the rear-guard quits its position at night, and joins the main army at ostrolenka.--battle of ostrolenka. chapter xx. operations of the lithuanian corps.--battle of raygrod and defeat of the russian corps of saken.--importance of this first success in lithuania.--general gielgud neglects to follow up his advantages.--he loses time by passing the niemen at gielgudyszki, and enables the enemy to concentrate his forces in wilno.--entrance into lithuania and reception by the inhabitants.--position of the two main armies.--the russian forces remain inactive and receive supplies from prussia.--death of marshal diebitsch. chapter xxi. general gielgud advances into lithuania.--allows a russian corps to pass within a league of him unperceived.--operations on wilno.--enumeration of our present force.--plan of a simultaneous attack upon wilno on opposite sides by the corps in two divisions.--general dembinski engages the enemy with the smaller part of the corps.--being unsupported by gielgud, is forced to retreat.--general gielgud attacks wilno.--battle of wilno.--a retreat is commenced.--prodigious efforts of the polish cavalry in protecting this retreat.--consequences of the repulse from wilno.--the removal of general gielgud is called for.--general chlapowski consents to take the virtual command of the corps, in the post of chef d'etat major.--consideration on the state of things consequent to the battle of wilno.--details of the admirable plan of operations proposed by colonel valentin. chapter xxii. operations of the main army.--expedition under jankowski.--general chrzanowski having driven rudiger from his position, crosses the vistula, but returns to act in concert with general jankowski against the enemy near kock.--details of general jankowski's movement.--he remains inactive within sight of the fire of the corps with which he was to co-operate.--other evidences of treason.--generals jankowski and bukowski are arrested and ordered for trial.--view of the advantages that were sacrificed by this misconduct.--discovery of a plot to liberate and arm the russian prisoners at warsaw, and to deliver the city to the enemy. --state of the public mind induced by these events. chapter xxiii. general chlapowski arrives at keydany, having ordered general dembinski to withdraw to wilkomierz.--the position of the two forces and their line of operations.--examination of these arrangements.--neglect of the important position of kowno.--general chlapowski, at keydany, proposes to form a provisional government, and obtain a levy of troops.--dispositions of the lithuanians, as effected by the mismanagement of our leaders.--advantages offered to the enemy by the delay at keydany.--brave defence of kowno, by the small force left there.--skirmish at wilkomierz.--the opportunity of concentrating all the forces at keydany, and repassing the niemen, is neglected.--the enemy presses his pursuit.--battle of rosseyny.--attack on szawla.--loss of the ammunition and baggage of the corps.--the corps retreats in order to kurzany, protected by a rear guard of cavalry and light artillery.--at kurzany the corps is subdivided into three parts.--destination and strength of each.--examination of this plan. chapter xxiv. the three subdivisions of the lithuanian corps take their respective destinations.--details of the operations of that of general rohland.--he meets alone the attack of the whole russian force.--battle of powenduny and worna.--general rohland, on his way to polonga, learns that general chlapowski had marched towards the prussian frontier.--he presses his march to overtake and form a junction with him.--the greater part of the corps of gielgud and chlapowski were found to have passed the frontier, when that of rohland came in sight.--indignation of the soldiery.--death of general gielgud.--general rohland, joined by a portion of the corps of gielgud which had not yet passed the frontier, continues his march to nowe-miasto.--he declines a proposition from general kreutz, to surrender.--successful skirmish with the enemy's cavalry.--general rohland takes a position at nowe-miasto, and awaits the enemy.--the russian forces, however, do not continue their pursuit, but go into camp.--propositions to pass the frontier are sent to general rohland by the prussian authorities.--they are submitted to the corps and accepted. chapter xxv. effect of the news of the lithuanian disasters on the minds of the people.--distrust of the national government.--the russian army resumes the offensive under general paszkiewicz.--he decides to pass the vistula.--examination of the merits of this plan.--plan of general skrzynecki to act on the different detached corps of the enemy.--advantages of general chrzanowski over the corps of rudiger.--the russian forces execute the passage of the vistula.--general skrzynecki crosses the vistula at warsaw to operate against the enemy on the left bank.--an inquiry into the conduct of general skrzynecki, and the appointment of a council of war is demanded by the nation.--arrival of the corps of general dembinski at warsaw. chapter xxvi. operation of general dembinski's corps.--he traverses the country between szawla and the niemen without being observed by the enemy.--attacks and disperses a brigade of russian infantry.--passes the niemen and throws himself into the forest of bialystok.--after leaving that forest, is joined by the corps of general rozycki.--reaches warsaw.--his reception at warsaw.--view of the exposed situation of paszkiewicz after his passage of the vistula.--examination of the plan of operations of the polish commander.--morbid state of the public mind at warsaw.--skrzynecki and czartoriski deprived of their trust.--capture of the city.--documents showing the influence exercised by the cabinets in discouraging active operations.--conclusion. appendix. polish revolution. chapter i. geographical extent, population, and political importance of poland, as anciently constituted.--conduct of napoleon in .--congress of vienna.--grand-duchy of warsaw erected into a kingdom.--dispositions of alexander.--zajaczek appointed viceroy, and constantine commander of the army.--constantine encroaches upon the civil administration.--acts of tyranny.--meeting of the diet.--public debates suppressed.--the polish conspiracy of .--the russian conspiracy of .--union of the patriotic associations.--death of alexander.--the revolt at st petersburgh.--punishment of the patriots.--coronation of nicholas.--constantine appointed viceroy of poland.--oppressions of the government.--patriotic club.--influence of the french and belgic revolutions.--the quartering-tax.--excitement in warsaw.--arrest of the students at praga.--day of the revolution fixed upon. in the early part of july, , when the victorious armies of napoleon had occupied wilna, and threatened to annihilate the throne of the czars, the polish nation cherished the hope of recovering its former grandeur. the destiny of poland was then in the hands of napoleon, and it may be said with truth that on the destiny of poland depended the security and peace of europe. poland, as is well known to the reader, viewed in regard to its geographical situation and extent, as formerly constituted, forms a strong outwork against the russian colossus. its territories extend to the eastward as far as the dneiper, and westward as far as the oder. toward the north, they reach the baltic and the government of skoff, and their southern frontiers are the carpathian mountains and the black sea. this vast region, composed of the present kingdom of poland, the grand-duchy of posen, of samogitia, lithuania, livonia, white russia and black russia, volhynia, podolia, ukraine, and gallicia, is inhabited by twenty-two millions of poles of the same descent, the same manners and customs, and the same language and religion. according to its ancient limits, the kingdom of poland is among the first in europe with regard to population and geographical extent. the deputies, who, at the period above named, were sent from warsaw to the emperor napoleon, laid before him the most earnest solicitations for the restoration of this state, and endeavoured to direct his views to the future, in order to convince him of its necessity. they concluded with the following words;--'dites, sire, que le royaume de pologne existe, et ce décret sera pour le monde l'equivalent de la réalité.' to this he answered;--'dans ma situation, j'ai beaucoup d'interêts à concilier, beaucoup de devoirs à remplir. si j'avais regné pendant le premier, le second, ou le troisiême partage de la pologne, j'aurais armé mes peuples pour la defendre. j'aime votre nation, j'autorise les efforts que vous voulez faire. c'est entièrment dans l'unanimité de sa population, que vous pourez trouver l'éspoir de succes. je dois ajouter que j'ai guaranti a l'empereur d'autriche l'intégrité de ses domaines.'[ ] such a reply from napoleon, the poles could never have expected. for, who accompanied him so faithfully in all his expeditions as the sons of poland? thousands of poles lie buried in italy, egypt, st domingo, spain, and russia, who had fought for the integrity of the french republic and for the aggrandizement of napoleon. his cold reception of the deputies of poland filled all patriots with sadness. they were now convinced, that the good wishes of napoleon for poland were not sincere, and that, through his marriage with maria louisa, he had come under austrian influence. thus the hope of territorial enlargement and national existence vanished away, and napoleon, by his indifference to the interests of poland, accelerated his own fall. the burning of moscow, which was a chance that did not enter into his calculations, became the turning point of his fate. the poles, who had contributed to his greatness, did not desert him in his distress; they were his companions to the very last. half a squadron of them followed him to elba, at his own request. the disasters of france decided the fate of poland. by the congress of vienna, the grand-duchy of warsaw was made into a kingdom, and subjected to the iron sceptre of russia. at the first moment of entering upon the government of the kingdom, the emperor alexander seemed disposed to load poland with benefits. on his return from paris he was received by the inhabitants of warsaw with the most unfeigned good will, and his stay in that city was marked by acts of beneficence. the words with which he then addressed the representatives of the nation, are still in the memory of every pole.--'gentlemen, i respect and love your nation. to these feelings on my part, in which all europe partakes, you are entitled by your continual and disinterested sacrifices for the prosperity of other nations. i swear to maintain your constitution with all the privileges guarantied by it; and this same constitution i promise to grant to your brethren in the provinces, which are to be united with you in one kingdom.' the nation believed in these promises the more readily as the affectionate deportment of the monarch seemed to confirm them. during his stay in warsaw, he paid visits to several of the most popular and patriotic families and individuals, and every where expressed himself in terms of the highest esteem for the polish nation. this show of benevolence, and the dreams of happiness with which it inspired the people, were not, however of long duration. before his departure from warsaw, the emperor named as viceroy of poland, the old general zajaczek,[ ] raising him to the dignity of a prince, and his own brother, the grand duke constantine, as commander in chief of the polish army. the appointment of these persons to the supreme power was already in direct opposition to all the promises he had made. for zajaczek, through the infirmities of his advanced age, was unfit for the post of viceroy, and could be but an instrument in russian hands; while in constantine, the commander in chief of their army, the poles received a tyrant. not long after the departure of alexander, the encroachments of the russian cabinet began to be felt. removals of officers took place in all the branches of government, in particular of those known as patriots, who were supplanted by minions of russia, men full of ambition and intrigue. in the first year of the russian government, the bureau of police was enlarged, and filled with persons whom the nation despised. the polish army, which had gathered laurels in so many countries of the three continents, and which was held in such high estimation by the first monarch and general in europe, was exposed, on the very first days of the new government, to the insults of constantine. there was not an officer, but was grossly offended by the grand duke, and more than all, those who wore military decorations for their merits. no past services were valued; they only exposed those who were distinguished by them to greater persecution. in the first six months, many officers, among whom was the renowned general sokolnicki, committed suicide; and nearly one half the officers and generals asked their dismission, among whom was general, the late dictator, chlopicki, who preferred poverty and want to such an ignominious service. the polish army, those soldiers animated by feelings of honor and the love of distinction, were to be transformed into the machines of despotism. they who had faced death in so many battles, who were covered with wounds, and who had been called 'brethren' by the greatest leader of his age, were now to be beaten with the russian knout. in the first year, few days passed in which some of the soldiers did not commit suicide. this prince, who appeared not to find victims enough for his cruelty in the army, began to meddle with all the branches of administration, and to control them. soon the liberty of the press was prohibited, freemasonry was interdicted, and a bureau of spies was established. the chief in this bureau of spies were rozniecki, the vice-president of the city of warsaw, lubowidzki, a man of the name of macrot, and schlee. from the documents found upon schlee and macrot, it was ascertained that there were in warsaw alone spies. in the provinces their number amounted to . the expenses and salaries of these spies, according to accounts found among their papers, drew from the public treasury $ , , , or , , polish gilders. thus, our poor country, instead of employing her resources for the happiness of her children, was forced to pay the mercenaries hired to distress them. soon warsaw and the whole kingdom became one vast prison. these spies endeavoured to steal into every company, and were present in all public places. they tried to catch every conversation, and distorted every word spoken, with however innocent an intention, in regard to the policy and administration of the country. in order to extort money, they accused some of the most respected and honest persons, who were thrown into prison, and many of whom were never again seen by their families, from the midst of whom they had been dragged in the night-time, in order to conceal the crime from the eyes of the world. persons who did not take off their hats in the streets before the grand duke, were compelled to draw barrows of mud upon the public places. there passed hardly a month in which some students were not arrested, and, without any trial, at the mere denunciation of a hireling spy, thrown into prison, where they lingered for years. thus faded away in dungeons many fair and hopeful youths, the flower of our nation. in warsaw, besides the public gaols, there were, beneath almost all of the barracks, prisons, where the victims of tyranny were tortured. the very orangery of the grand duke was transformed into a prison, from which some persons were liberated during the revolution, who had been confined there for years. it was in this prison that lukasinski had been kept for a long time, though subsequently bound to a cannon and carried into russia. in the gaols below the barracks of the artillery many dead bodies were found. at the first meeting of the diet, when the grand duke constantine was among the deputies from the city of praga, and debates commenced on various subjects which concerned the welfare of the country,--such as, the liberty of the press, the abolition of the central police and the spies, and the deposition of several of the higher officers, for which petitions had been sent to the monarch,--a decision was promulgated that the diet should act in subordination to the will of the grand duke, and, in order to add force to this decision, the palace and its galleries were surrounded and filled by guards. all public debates during the session were prohibited, and a ticket from the police was required for admission. these tickets were distributed among russian generals, officers of government and their families, and creatures of the court. before such an auditory, discussions of the most sacred interest to the nation were to take place. no patriot could behold, without tears, the senators and fathers of the nations, descendants of tarnowski, zamoiski, chodkiewicz, and kosciusko, sitting with sad and drooping countenances, exposed to the scoffing and laughter of those minions of the court. the sacred halls were transformed into a theatre for russian spectators. in all the different bureaus, spies held important offices, and thus those bureaus became scenes of the most detestable intrigues. law and right were trampled under foot, and the constitution itself was derided. they used to express themselves in the following and similar terms:--'what is the constitution? it is an impediment to the administration of the government, and the course of justice. the grand duke is the best constitution.' a few years had passed away in this wretched state of the nation, when, towards , our noble patriots, krzyzanowski, jablonowski, plichta, debek, and soltyk, conceived the idea of emancipating their country by a revolution. whilst occupied with their noble scheme, they were most agreeably surprised by receiving information, in , of a similar patriotic union in russia for throwing off the yoke of despotism. their joy was increased when they received a summons from this patriotic union in russia, at the head of which were pestel, releiew, bestuzew, kichelbeker, murawiew, and kachowski, to join hands with them. this junction was effected in kiow, on the day of the great fair, when prince jablonowski became acquainted with some of their members, and was initiated into their plans. the invitation was received by the poles with delight. accustomed to combat for liberty, they offered with their whole hearts their aid in the redemption of the sarmatic nation from the chains by which they had been so long bound down. soon after this, it was agreed to meet in the town of orla, in the province of little russia, where solemn oaths were sworn to sacrifice life and property in the cause. resolutions were taken, and the means of their execution were devised. the russians promised to the poles, in case of success, the surrender of all the provinces as far as the frontiers which boleslaw-chrobry had established. this promise, as well as that of eternal friendship between the two brother-nations, was sanctioned by the solemnity of oaths. the day fixed upon for the breaking out of the revolution, was the th anniversary of the accession of alexander, in the month of may, ; and biala-cerkiew in volhynia was the place selected for the first blow. the reason for choosing this place, was, that the whole imperial family and the greater part of the army were to assemble there, on the great plain of the dneiper, to celebrate the anniversary of the coronation. this occasion was to be improved, to gain over all the well-disposed generals, and at the same time to secure the imperial family. in the meeting at orla, it was required of the poles, that, at the moment of the breaking out of the revolution, they should take the life of the grand duke constantine. to this proposition, however, prince jablonowski answered in these well known words: 'russians, brother sarmatians, you have summoned us to co-operate in the holy work of breaking the bonds of slavery under which our sarmatic race has so long pined. we come to you with sincere hearts, willing to sacrifice our fortunes and lives. rely, my dear friends, on this our promise. the many struggles in which we have already fought for the sake of liberty, may warrant our assertions. brethren, you demand of us to murder the grand duke. this we can never do. the poles have never stained their hands with the blood of their princes. we promise you to secure his person in the moment of the revolution, and, as he belongs to you, we shall deliver him into your hands.' the patriotic associations on both sides endeavored to increase their party, by the initiation of many brave men in the army and in civil life. in lithuania, the respectable president of the nobles, downarowicz, and the noble rukiewicz of the lithuanian corps, with many other officers, were admitted into the conspiracy, and among others jgelstrom, wigielin, hoffman, and wielkaniec. all the plans for the approaching revolution were arranged with the utmost circumspection, and every circumstance seemed to promise success, when the sudden death of the emperor alexander, at taganrog, in the early part of december, , darkened our bright hopes. the news of his death had, at first, a stunning effect upon the patriotic club in petersburgh. nevertheless, they resolved to act. they hoped to profit by the troubles between constantine and nicholas, about the succession. on the th of december of the same year, the signal for revolt was given in petersburgh. some regiments of the guard were on the side of the patriots, and with them assembled great numbers of the people ready to fight for liberty. yet all this was done without sufficient energy, and without good leaders. it was unfortunate, that at the time, colonel pestel, acknowledged by all to be a man of great talents and energy, happened to be absent in moscow. the people assembled in their holy cause, but, being without leaders, began to fall into disorder, and a few discharges of cannon were sufficient to disperse them. as the grand duke constantine, on account of his marriage with a noble polish lady, grudzinska, in , was obliged to renounce the throne of russia, the imperial power was, by a written document, given to the grand duke nicholas, as the eldest in succession after him. some days after the proclamation of nicholas, all the prisons of the realm were prepared to receive their new inmates. petersburgh, moscow, wilna, kiow, bialystok, and warsaw, were appointed for the places of trial. over the whole of poland and russia the sword of cruel revenge was suspended. in petersburgh, the martyrs of liberty, pestel, muraview, releiew, bestuzew, kachowski, were hung on the gallows, and more than two hundred persons of the noblest families were sent to siberia. in wilna, kiow, and moscow, an immense number were thrown into prison, or transported to siberia. in bialystok the russian general, wiliaminow, was appointed an inquisitor. this infamous character treated the wretched prisoners with the utmost cruelty. rukiewicz,[ ] jgelstrom, and wigelin, were exiled to siberia for life. in warsaw, the grand duke himself undertook the business of establishing an inquisition over the unhappy prisoners. this court was composed of persons in the russian interest, a circumstance, the melancholy consequences of which soon became manifest. senator soltyk, an old man seventy years of age, was flogged with the knout. krzyzanowski, unable to endure the tortures inflicted upon him, committed suicide. general procurator wyezechowski, that unworthy son of poland, sentenced all who were condemned to death, to be hung on a gallows, and their bodies to be exposed upon the wheel. this horrid sentence, however, was, notwithstanding all the grand duke's influence, mitigated by the supreme court of the senate, which still contained many worthy men under the presidency of the venerable woyewode, bilinski. the infamous wyezechowski was unable to oppose this virtuous old man, whose powerful eloquence was a mirror of his noble heart. president bilinski, fearless of the threats of the russians, whose briberies he was accustomed to treat with disdain, guided by the articles of the criminal code, altered the sentence of death to a few years imprisonment. this mitigation of the sentence was signed by all the senators, with one exception.[ ] after nicholas had ascended the throne over steps of blood, he was crowned, in , emperor of russia. two years after this, in , he was again crowned in warsaw as king of poland. this monarch at first intended not to go through with the ceremony of the coronation in warsaw, in order to avoid the oath of the constitution. yet, from fear of revolutionary scenes, he suffered himself to be persuaded to do it, and took the oath, like his predecessor and brother, alexander, to maintain the constitution and the privileges guarantied by it. poland may have suffered under alexander; yet he loved the nation like a friend, as every one of my countrymen will allow. when he was mistaken in his measures, it was, that, surrounded by bad men and enemies of our nation, he was prevented from knowing the truth. he was himself too much engrossed in pleasures, to visit the hut of the poor in order to obtain information of his condition. poland forgave him all his faults, in the grateful recollection that he had restored her to a separate existence, and respected the constitution. far different in our eyes appeared the present emperor, nicholas. partaking of the errors of his predecessor, he exhibited none of his virtues. alexander, with a benignant countenance, permitted every one to approach him freely, and his features were never distorted by passion. nicholas, on the contrary, seemed to terrify by his very look. his lowering and overbearing eye was the true mirror of asiatic despotism. every movement was that of command; and his imperious air was in true harmony with the ruling passion of his mind. such a sovereign, acting through the instrumentality of a brother like himself, the grand duke constantine, must needs bring distress upon our country. whole volumes might be filled with the relation of the atrocities of this government. the daily increasing host of spies in its employ, among whom even females were found, regarded nothing as sacred, and mocked at the most holy institutions. they lavished away millions of the public funds. everything was permitted to them. in short, the intention of this government seemed to be to plunge our country into the deepest distress, in order to force us to the abandonment of every national feeling, and to make us slaves of the russians. yet in this hope they were deceived. the more the nation was oppressed,[ ] the more its energy of character was steeled, and the more the love of country developed itself. two worthy sons of poland, wysocki and schlegel, mourning over the martyrdom of krzyzanowoski, soltyk, dembek, and plichta, and meditating on the distresses of their country, resolved to attempt its deliverance. by these two young champions of poland, the first idea of the revolution was conceived. they communicated their hopes to several other patriots, and thus was formed the patriotic club. this association, nourishing in their secret breasts the holy spark of liberty, increased it soon to a flaming light, by which the whole nation was led to honor and glory. these heroic men fearlessly persevered in their endeavors, during five years, exposed to the greatest dangers and amidst thousands of spies. witnesses of the continually aggravated oppression of their country, they became more and more animated to risk every thing for their holy object. while this tyrannical government was exulting in the success of its measures, and the honor and morals of our country were fast declining, the revolution of france occurred, and it instantly roused every mind to a comparison of our state with that of the french, who had thrown off the yoke of a machiavelian dynasty. the three days of july were days of joy, not only to every brave son of france, but to every patriotic heart in poland. how much were they enraptured, who hitherto in secret had been labouring for the redemption of their country! the happy result of those glorious days was a peal of terror to the grand duke constantine, and to the whole swarm of agents in his tyrannical sway. it gave them a presage of their approaching retribution. yet, instead of adopting milder measures, and endeavouring to propitiate the nation, their cruelties went on as before. the government had, indeed, advanced too far in its barbarous system to draw back. the activity of the spies was redoubled. from the first reception of the news of the french revolution, there did not pass a day on which some persons were not imprisoned in warsaw or the provinces. on the night of the th of september, forty students were seized in their beds and carried to prison. again, the new revolutionary eruption of belgium cheered and encouraged the heart of every patriotic pole. the hour for throwing off the yoke of tyranny was fast approaching. the leaders of the revolution succeeded in communicating their sentiments to continually increasing numbers. many officers of the th regiment of the line and of the sappers were initiated. yet at this very time, when the revolution was every moment expected to break out, the russian despot, in concert with prussia and austria, commenced his preparations for a war against france and belgium. the polish army was destined to serve as the vanguard of this expedition, and modlin and warsaw were stored with large quantities of arms and ammunition from russia. all the regiments were completed, and the order for marching was momentarily expected. these circumstances attracted the notice of our patriots, and they decided to accelerate the revolution, in order to anticipate the march of the army. the eruption was hastened by the following event. the citizens of warsaw were obliged to furnish quarters for the officers of the army. to lighten this burden, and to avoid various inconveniences, as well as to accommodate the officers,--by an understanding with the inhabitants, it was determined, that instead of furnishing quarters, a quartering tax should be paid. it was intended in this regulation to proportion the tax to the size of the houses, and consequently to the profit which the proprietors would derive from letting them. the tax would in this way be equalized, because, wherever levied, it would be attended by a proportionate compensation, and it was satisfactory to the inhabitants. this regulation, however, was executed in an entirely different manner. in many cases the heavier taxes were paid by the poorer inhabitants, and indeed they had sometimes to provide quarters in addition to the payment of the tax. all the persons employed by the police as spies, and who had by vile means acquired immense fortunes and kept the finest houses in warsaw, were exempt both from the tax and the providing of quarters. the money collected for the tax was purloined by the commissioners for quartering, who thus amassed millions of gilders.[ ] a short time before the revolution, the gross impositions of this commission were discovered. the inhabitants of warsaw began to murmur against it, and addressed the government for the removal of the persons employed, and the substitution of others in their places, who should be deserving of the confidence of the citizens. among others, the deposition of the president of the city, woyda, was demanded; and when the government refused to comply with the request, he was publicly insulted and flogged in the streets. the discontent of the citizens, in particular of the poorer classes, continued to increase, and of this discontent the patriots made use in endeavouring to propagate their views of the necessity of a revolution. public opinion was from day to day expressed more boldly. papers were pasted up in the streets, with inscriptions such as these:--'the dwelling of the grand duke will be let from next new year's day.'--'away with the tyrants! away with the barbarians to asia!' a great concourse of citizens assembled one evening before the city hall, and demanded the punishment of the quartering commissioner, czarnecki, who, in his desperation, committed suicide. the holy moment was now fast approaching, and warsaw was in anxious expectation. fear and terror was painted in the faces of the spies, while, on the other hand, all true patriots were in raptures of joy, and waited impatiently for the moment to strike the blow. for several nights the whole garrison of the city had been under arms, by the orders of the grand duke, who, tortured with the consciousness of so many crimes, had no rest, and surrounded himself with large bodies of guards. a hundred gens d'armes were on horseback for many nights, constantly bringing in their victims. strong patroles of russian soldiers traversed the streets. all was in vain. his mercenaries could not protect the tyrant. the word was given, the oath was sworn, to fight for our sacred rights and the freedom of our country. an event which served to irritate all minds, and hasten the revolution, was the arrest and imprisonment of eighty students. these brave young men were assembled in a private house, in order to pray to god in secret for the souls of their murdered ancestors, on the anniversary of the storming of praga, by the bloody suwarrow, in , when none were spared, and praga swam with blood, and was strewed with the corpses of , of its inhabitants. neither old men, women, children, nor pregnant mothers, were spared by the barbarous russian soldiers. in memory of this event, the patriots had every year met for secret prayer, since public devotions on the occasion had been forbidden by the grand duke. the abovementioned students, with some priests, were in the act of worship, praying to the almighty, and honoring the memory of their forefathers, when the doors were broken open with great violence, and a number of gens d'armes, under their captain, jurgaszko, with a company of russian soldiers behind them, entered the apartment. our brave youths continued their prayers upon their knees about the altar, and in that position suffered themselves to be bound, and dragged away to prison. but this was the last act of cruelty the russian government was permitted to perpetrate, for it exhausted the patience of the nation. the measure was full, and the hour of retribution was at hand. the news of this outrage was spread through warsaw with the quickness of lightning, and it thrilled every heart. this was the occasion for fixing upon the th of november, as the day for commencing the revolution, on which day the th polish regiment, many of the officers of which were among the initiated, were to mount guard in warsaw. footnotes: [footnote : 'say, sire, that the kingdom of poland exists, and that declaration will be, in the eyes of the world, the equivalent of the reality.' to this he answered;--'in my situation, i have many interests to conciliate, many duties to fulfil. if i had reigned during the first, the second, or the third partition of poland, i would have armed my people to defend her. i love your nation; i authorize the efforts which you wish to make. it is alone in the unanimity of your population that you will find the hope of success. i ought to add that i have guarantied to the emperor of austria the integrity of his dominions.'] [footnote : zajaczek commenced his military career in the time of kosciusko, continued it among the polish legions, and accompanied napoleon to egypt, where he served with distinction. he was present in all the later campaigns of napoleon, till , when he returned, on account of his advanced age and the loss of one of his legs.] [footnote : this nobleman (rukiewicz) had two beautiful sisters, cornelia and theresa, whose heroic behavior deserves to be recorded. he was secretary of the patriotic club in lithuania, and kept the records and papers of the society in the village where he lived, near bialystok; and in order to do this business without disturbance, he had prepared a little summer-house in the garden near his mansion. he happened to be from home when arrested, and immediately after his arrest, the police sent a russian officer with gens d'armes to his village, in order to take possession of his papers. his sisters, who were ignorant of the event, were quietly at home when they beheld the officer with his suite riding into the court-yard. a presaging fear of the truth seized them, but gave place immediately to an heroic resolution. the younger remained in the room in order to receive and detain these agents of tyranny, whilst the elder, cornelia, carried in haste some combustibles to the summer-house, which was soon on fire, and more than two hundred persons, whose names were contained in the register, were thus saved by the presence of mind of that heroic lady. she returned to the parlor with the noblest and most delighted mien, and, on the officer's enquiring as to the cause of the fire, she answered with a smile, 'gentlemen, i only wanted to save you the trouble of some farther brutalities. i have burnt the papers and documents of my brother. you may be sure not to find anything left; and now i am your prisoner. drag me along with you, to increase the number of your victims.' both the ladies were carried to prison, and treated in the most unworthy manner during three years. when these noble sisters were dismissed from prison, they found themselves bereft of every consolation. they had no parents left. their only brother, who had been both parent and brother to them, was now gone. they could not endure the thought of leaving him to pine away so far from them in chains, and they resolved to partake and thus to relieve his sufferings. regardless of the remonstrances of their friends, they left everything, and, travelling in the humblest manner, mostly on foot or upon the wagons of the peasantry, they undertook the journey to siberia. it is not known whether providence granted them to reach their beloved brother or not.] [footnote : to this court, which was called the supreme court of the diet, and which was established in order to try these prisoners of state, was appointed general count vincenti krasinski, a man of great merit, a brave soldier as well as a good citizen, and on this account very much beloved by the nation. the soldiers, indeed, regarded him as a father. yet this man could so far forget himself as to take up the bloody pen to sign the death of his fellow citizens--the only one of his nation. it is with painful feelings that i name him in this narrative as the enemy of his country, after having been faithful to it for fifty years, and after having made for it the greatest sacrifices. vincenti krasinski, whom his country has erased, as a lost son, from the register of her children, is a strong example of the great power of russian seduction.] [footnote : as already remarked, it would be impossible to describe the various kinds of cruelty exercised by the russian government. yet, in order to make the reader acquainted with some of them, i shall here state a few facts.--in our country, the distilling and brewing of spirituous liquors, and the planting of tobacco, as well as the sale of these articles, was a privilege of the landed proprietors. warsaw, as the capital and the most populous city, was the best market for these productions, and all the noblemen endeavoured to bring their produce to warsaw for sale. in this manner they supplied themselves with money and enhanced the value of their grain, while their liquors, as well as tobacco, could be sold at very low prices, to the pecuniary benefit of all the laboring classes and the soldiery. these advantages, however, soon became an object of attention to the government agents. one of their number, the jew, nowachowiez, who, by the greatest impositions, had acquired an immense fortune, devised a plan for monopolizing the production and sale of every kind of liquor and of tobacco. he obtained the exclusive right of selling them, and all the noblemen were forbidden to dispose of these articles without his permission, for which a duty was to be paid. for this monopoly he paid to the government , , of polish gilders ($ , / ) for which he more than doubly indemnified himself by the enormous taxes levied upon the consumers of these articles. this innovation, so oppressive to the poorer classes, and invented merely to enrich this jew and his partners, irritated all the land proprietors, and still more the laboring classes, who were suffering by it. for two years in succession petitions were made for the reformation of these abuses, but the government only insisted upon the prohibition with the greater severity. nowachowiez, indeed, employed a guard, who wore uniforms. all the environs of warsaw were filled with these guards, and the greatest excesses were committed by them. a poor day-laborer, after having purchased at some distance from the city, some brandy and tobacco, carried these articles at evening to warsaw. on his way he was stopped by these men. they took all from him, and demanded a heavier fine than the articles were worth. as the poor man was unable to pay the fine, they abused him, and were about to carry him to prison. he succeeded, however, in making his escape, and, as it was in the vicinity of the residence of a nobleman by the name of biernacki, he sought shelter on his estate. the guards in pursuit entered the mansion of this nobleman. biernacki heard the tumult of the guard seizing and roughly handling the poor man, and, ascertaining the cause of the disturbance, he censured them for their inhumanity about such a trifle. in order, however, to save the man from farther insults, he retained him, with the intention of sending him the next day with a note to nowachowiez for his exculpation. the very moment that biernacki was occupied in writing the letter, an officer of the gens d'armes, with four privates, stepped in. biernacki inquired the cause of this visit, and was told in answer, that he was arrested for having protected a defrauder. thus, surrounded by four soldiers, this man was publicly carried through warsaw to the prison of the carmelites. not satisfied with this, nowachowiez succeeded in obtaining from the grand duke, who hated biernacki as a patriotic pole, a squadron of russian hulans, consisting of horse, to quarter for a whole week on his estate, _in execution_, as it is termed. the russian soldiers took possession of all the buildings on the estate. in the apartments which they used for barracks, they broke all the furniture, lustres, pianos, &c, and carried in their straw for sleeping. in the court-yard they made a fire, for which they used the pieces of furniture for fuel. they took the wheat from the barns to feed their horses, and butchered the cattle. in short, the most shameful depredations and excesses were committed by officers and soldiers, regardless of the situation of the lady of this nobleman, who was confined in childbed, and who for a whole year was in danger of her life from the consequences of her terror. this barbarous order of the grand duke ruined the fortune of that unhappy man, and the amount of his property destroyed may be estimated at least at from , to , gilders. biernacki was imprisoned for a whole year, after which he was dismissed to weep over the sufferings of his wife, and his ruined fortune. the poor offender was punished with blows of the knout, of which he died in a few days. the second story perhaps surpasses the former in cruelty, and would suit the times of nero. general rozniecki, and the vice president of the city of warsaw, lubowiecki, had their agents, who travelled through the country in order to superintend the services of the secret police. among them was a jew, named birnbaum, whose crimes surpass conception. he travelled through the whole country, and every where found pretexts for accusations against the noblemen, who had to pay him fines to secure themselves from prison. he took up vast sums, that were never accounted for to his superiors. they were divided with rozniecki, lubowiecki, macrot, and schlee, with some russian generals, and the servants of the grand duke, kochanowski and trize, all of whom, like this jew, made immense fortunes, some of them to the amount of hundreds of thousands. when, in order to encourage the manufactures of the country, the importation of all broadcloths, cotton and linen goods were forbidden, birnbaum, in secret understanding with his superiors, found out the way of drawing to himself the greatest advantages from this decree. he persuaded two other jews, by the promise of a part of the gain, and of his protection, to smuggle these articles and to sell them among the gentry of the country. a place on the frontiers was selected for a depot of these contraband wares, which the country noblemen purchased in ignorance of their unlawful importation, and induced by their low prices. on a sudden, birnbaum visited these districts, examined the warehouses of the noblemen, found the contraband goods, and forced them to the alternative of either paying him a large sum of money or going to prison. many, for the sake of peace, paid the fines imposed; others, who refused, were imprisoned. by such means, this jew, as was found afterwards by the records and documents of the police, brought to prison more than a hundred persons, who were treated in the most barbarous manner. they had no food given them but herrings without water, and many of these unfortunate persons died in consequence. at last birnbaum fell out with his accomplices, on occasion of the division of profits. he had them, likewise, thrown into prison to perish there. their families, however, accused him at their kahal,[ ] or council of the jews, and by means of money contrived to have him arrested. he was poisoned in his prison, as many persons of consequence were found to be implicated in his impositions.] [footnote : kahal is a jewish court of administration, composed of the elders, who are responsible to the government for their nation, and are of great authority.] [footnote : one man of the name of czarnecki, a commissioner of the quartering bureau, in a short time made by these means two millions of gilders; and this robber of the poor carried his luxury so far as to make use of bathing tubs lined with silver.] chapter ii. principles of the revolution.--the first night.--attack on the barracks of the russian cavalry.--their dispersion.--attempt to secure the person of the grand duke.--capture of russian general officers and spies.--actions with detached bodies of russian cavalry.--two companies of polish light-infantry join the patriots.--death of potocki and trembicki.--the russian infantry attacked and dispersed.--armament and assembling of the people.--detachments sent to praga. it is undeniable that the history of our nation abounds in heroic acts and glorious passages. need we instance the times of boleslaw, casimir, jagelo, augustus of warna, and sobieski; or the deeds of our renowned generals czarnecki, chodkiewicz, tarnowski, sapieha, kosciusko, and poniatowski? yet, in our whole history, nothing transcends this last revolution; and indeed few more memorable events have ever occurred. its plan was based on the purest motives, and this constitutes its peculiar character. those true sons of poland, wysocki and schlegel, had no other design than to regenerate public morals and the national character, which had already begun to deteriorate under russian influence; though, perhaps, there may have mingled with these another impulse--that of vengeance for the ignominy to which we were subjected. these feelings were shared by the whole nation--certainly a rare instance in history. inspired by the example of the brave, even the wavering joined in upholding the good cause to support which the sword was drawn. it was this unanimity which emboldened us, small as our numbers were, to meet that colossal power dreaded by all europe. we were not animated to this unequal struggle by any vain desire of conquest, but by a resolution to shake off a yoke so disgraceful, and by the wish to preserve our civilization, and to extend it even to russia. in drawing the sword, every pole had in view not only the freedom of his own country, but that of his sarmatian brethren also. the poles believed that russia still remembered those martyrs of liberty, pestel, bestuzew, morawiew, kachowski, and releiew, who suffered an ignominious death, and more than five hundred others who were sent in chains to siberia. we believed they would bear in mind, that, in , they themselves summoned us to fight, side by side, with them against despotism. their words were still in our memory--'poles, help us in our holy cause! unite your hearts with ours! are we not brethren?' unworthy nation--soothed by the momentary blandishments of the autocrat, who scattered his decorations with a lavish hand, they forgot their own past sufferings and the future that awaits them. they suffered themselves to be led against those who were in arms for the liberty of both nations. at the very time when the funeral rites of those who had died in battle, russians as well as poles, were being celebrated in warsaw and all the provinces, they burned our villages, and murdered our fathers and brothers. russians! you have covered yourselves with eternal shame, in the eyes of the whole world. even the nations you consider your friends and allies contemn you! the first night. the patriots assembled early in the morning of the th of november, to renew their oaths and ask the blessing of the almighty on their great undertaking. the moment approached. seven in the evening was the hour appointed for the commencement of the revolution. the signal agreed upon was, that a wooden house should be set on fire in szulec street, near the vistula. the patriots were scattered over the city, ready to stir up the people on the appearance of the signal. most of them were young men and students. some hundred and twenty students, who were to make the beginning, were assembled in the southern part of warsaw. all was ready. at the stroke of seven, as soon as the flame of the house was seen reflected on the sky, many brave students, and some officers, rode through the streets of that part of the city called the old town, shouting, 'poles! brethren! the hour of vengeance has struck! the time to revenge the tortures and cruelties of fifteen years is come! down with the tyrants! to arms, brethren; to arms! our country forever!' the excitement spread through this part of the city with incredible rapidity. the citizens flocked together from all quarters, shouting 'down with the tyrants! poland forever!' at the same time a hundred and twenty students left their barrack (which is called the hotel of the cadets, and is situated in the royal gardens of lazienki) under their gallant leaders, wysocki and schlegel, and marched to the quarters of the russian cavalry, cuirasseurs, hulans and hussars. it was resolved to take immediate possession of all the chief gates. the issuing out of the russian troops was thereby rendered very difficult and bloody, as the barracks were surrounded by a wide and deep moat, over which there were few bridges. on their arrival, the cadets found the soldiers in the utmost confusion. some were saddling their horses, some were leading them out, and others were occupied in securing the magazines, &c. in short, panic and disorder pervaded officers and men; each sought his own safety only. our young heroes took advantage of this confusion, and after firing a few rounds, rushed with the _hurrah_ through the gates. this charge sufficed: a hundred and twenty of these young poles, after having killed forty or fifty men with ball and bayonet, dispersed some eighteen hundred russian cavalry. cuirasseurs, hulans and hussars mingled together, joined in the cry of terror, and began to seek concealment in garrets, stables, cellars, &c. a great number were drowned in attempting to cross the canal in order to escape into the adjoining gardens. as the barracks were closely connected with wooden buildings filled with hay, straw, and other combustible articles, not a man would have escaped had they been fired. the young poles refrained from this, in mercy. the russians might all have been made prisoners; for so great was their panic that they were not ashamed to beg for quarter on their knees. but these advantages were, for the time, neglected. the cadets abandoned the attack, and hastened into the city, where their presence was more necessary. while their comrades were attacking the barracks, some ten or twelve students traversed the gardens towards the palace of the grand duke (called the belvidere) in order to secure his person.[ ] some of them guarded the passages on the side of the gardens, while others penetrated to the tyrant's apartment. but he had escaped through a secret door. on the failure of the party of cadets sent to secure the person of the grand duke, they left his apartments without in the least disturbing the repose of his lady. as they reached the foot of the stairs, they met lubowicki, the vice-president of the city, coming to the grand duke for instructions. as soon as he saw them, he began to cry for aid, but the next moment fell on his knees and begged for his life. they took him with them, intending to extract from him all the information he was able to give. in the court-yard they met the russian general, gendre,[ ] aid-de-camp of the grand duke, with some ten or twelve armed men. they resolutely attacked him. gendre fell under their bayonets, and his followers fled. the party meeting with no farther obstacles, returned to their friends, whom they found at the bridge of sobieski. the company of cadets, after having finished their attack upon the barracks of the russian cavalry, marched along the high road which traverses the park, over the bridge of sobieski, towards the main avenue between the terraces of the hospital ujasdow on one side, and those of the botanical garden on the other. after having arrived at this bridge, they heard the noise of horses in front, as of cavalry advancing. it was in fact a company of russian cuirasseurs, who were on guard in this part of the park, and who were now hastening to save the barracks. immediately a plan was formed to receive them. the cadets, forming in a line, concealed themselves in the park near the street. the cuirasseurs came up; they were permitted to advance, and were then received with a brisk fire. the heavy cavalry, who could not turn in this narrow road, suffered severely. sixty bodies were found on the spot. the rest fled in the greatest disorder. from this bridge, that handful of brave young men passed the street of wieyska, and, after arriving at the barracks of radziwil, they met a squadron of russian hussars returning from a patrol. at the same time they heard the russian cavalry in pursuit, who had gained time to mount at their barracks. this was a critical moment, but it was met with resolution. one half threw themselves into the ditch in order to receive the hussars; and the others formed a platoon, and with hurrahs and the shout of 'poland forever!' discharged their pieces and attacked the cuirasseurs in their rear, at the point of the bayonet. the russians were thrown into disorder, and fled with the greatest precipitaion, leaving many dead behind them. the cadets, not having lost a single man in all these skirmishes, arrived at the part of the city called the nowy-swiat, (or the new world,) and the trzy zlote krzyze, (the three golden crosses.) here they found two companies of polish light infantry, and with them the two polish generals, stanislaus potocki and trembicki, who were giving commands for restoring order by force, and for arresting the assembled inhabitants. the company of cadets arrived, and hailed the light infantry with the following words:--'brothers! are you here to shed the blood of your brethren? have you forgotten the russian tyranny? come to our embrace, and hand to hand let us attack the tyrants. poland forever!' this address was enough. they disobeyed the commands of their unworthy generals, and joined the cadets and the populace. when the two generals had the madness to reproach the soldiers, some of the cadets went to them and told them in a few words the state of affairs, and on their knees and with tears intreated them not to forsake the cause of their country. to stanislaus potocki the command of the army was offered. at the same time they were both warned of the fatal consequences of their refusal. it was of no avail. these infatuated men could not see the justice of the cause, and began to insult the students. upon this the cadets left them, and they fell victims to the indignation of the populace.[ ] in this place some gens d'armes who undertook to disperse the citizens, were killed. after the union with the two companies of light infantry, it was decided they should both march to the street of szulec, on the left bank of the vistula, endeavor there to assemble the citizens, and establish a degree of order, and after that to take possession of the bridge, for the purpose of maintaining the necessary communications between praga and warsaw during the night, and to defend it to the last against any attack of the enemy. the cadets marched directly into the city through the nowy-swiat, singing patriotic songs and shouting 'poland forever!' every where the citizens answered their shouts with the greatest enthusiasm, and joined the ranks of those brave youths. both old and young men, and even women, left their dwellings in order to increase the numbers of the liberators of their country. in their passage through that street this company made prisoners of many russian generals, officers, &c, who were on their flight. after advancing as far as the palace of the viceroy they met the polish general hauke, and colonel mieciszewski. these worthless men, accompanied by some gens d'armes, were on their way to the grand duke in the belvidere. some cadets stepped in their way, and exhorted them to dismount and surrender themselves. instead of answering, general hauke drew a pistol and wounded one of them, which act cost him and his companion their lives.[ ] in the same manner general siemiontkowski, with some gens d'armes and soldiers, endeavored to disperse and arrest the citizens assembled in the saxon-platz. he likewise was a russian instrument, and was hated by the nation. whilst this company of cadets was engaged in the south part of the city, the th regiment, a battalion of which had mounted guard, were active in another quarter. this regiment, as soon as the signals were given, revolted. the battalion on guard beat the alarm-drum at every guard-house, and the two other battalions formed for the attack of the russian infantry in their barracks called the barracks of sapieha. the shouts of the soldiers and citizens advancing to the attack mingled with the noise of the drums on every side. a great number of russian general officers and spies were taken in their flight, in the street of the little theatre, and the street of napoleon. as soon as the numbers assembled would admit of it, divisions were detached to liberate the prisoners, especially those in the franciscan and carmelite prisons. these prisons, always guarded by russian troops, were stormed. the russian soldiers were driven in, and a massacre commenced in the corridors, where a great number of them fell by the bayonet, together with many police officers and turnkeys. the doors were broken down--and an indescribable scene took place, when the victims, already sentenced, perhaps, to death, or reserved for tortures, were set at liberty. with tears in their eyes, they fell into the arms of their deliverers. here, a father found a son--there, a son a father. many of the emaciated captives could only creep to meet the embraces of their brethren. but what was most shocking, was the appearance of four ladies who had been incarcerated for having resisted the brutal advances of certain russian generals. they were reduced to mere skeletons. there was not one of the spectators who did not shudder and weep at the sight, and swear to avenge them. a hundred and seventy students, and from forty to fifty older persons, polish soldiers and citizens, all innocent victims of the system of espionage, were rescued from these two prisons. the above mentioned battalions of the th and the battalion of sappers marched to attack the russian infantry in the barracks of alexander and stanislaus. on their arrival there, they found some companies under arms, and summoned them to surrender. instead of complying, they began to fire, and our soldiers fell instantly upon them, with the 'hurrah.' they were dispersed in a moment, and many officers and soldiers were made prisoners. so panic struck were many of the officers of the russian guard that they did not hesitate to creep head-foremost into the cellars, whence they were dragged out by the legs. the russians fled from the barracks and the city in the utmost disorder, and took refuge beyond the powonzki barrier. after all these successes, the northern, eastern, and western parts of the city were occupied, at about noon, by divisions of patriot soldiers and citizens. a small part of the south side of the city only was now in possession of the enemy's cavalry, who had at last left their barracks. a few houses opposite the lottery buildings were set on fire, as a signal for assembling. strong patrols were sent to the western part of the city, and by them all the public treasures and the bank were secured. one of these parties, composed of sappers, met the russian colonel, sass,[ ] in his flight. as he did not stop at their challenge, he was shot. when the city had been nearly freed of the russians, great multitudes hastened to the arsenal for arms and ammunition. here they found the polish general blummer, who was rash enough to resist. he ordered his soldiers to fire on the people, but they refused to obey, and joined their brethren. this general was slain,--a just punishment for his murderous intentions. all the apartments were immediately opened, and more than , muskets, pistols, sabres, and carbines were obtained. they were distributed with admirable good order. the people, being now armed, were arrayed in divisions, under different commanders, and sent to various parts of the city. parties were appointed to patrol the streets and arrest all spies[ ] and russian officers who might attempt to fly. they arrested upwards of three hundred. one of these patrols went to the office of the secretary of spies, macrot, to seize his person and papers. this man had hid himself in the cellar, with some of his satellites, and fired upon the patrol. the consequence was that macrot and his people were massacred. toward two in the morning, the quiet of the city was restored. most of the patriots assembled in the ulica dluga, (or long street,) to consult on the measures to be adopted on the following day, and the manner in which the nation should be addressed by the patriotic party. they called to memory the cruelties of the russian government, and urged the necessity of a revolution to prevent the decay of all moral and national feeling. they implored the people to aid in this holy cause, yet at the same time besought them never to violate the dictates of humanity. 'dear brethren,' they said, 'let no one have a right to accuse us of cruelty. may the sanctity of our cause never be polluted by barbarious passions. having a single end in view, national freedom, and justice, may we prove lions in battle, mild and indulgent to defenceless foes, and repentant apostates. brethren, let unity, love and friendship be ours! let us forget private rancor and selfish interest; children of one mother, our dear poland--let us save her from ruin!' these addresses were received by the people with the most fervent enthusiasm, and with cries of 'poland forever!' they swore to fight for her while a drop flowed in their hearts, and never to forsake the field of valor or the path of virtue. the assembled multitude then knelt down before the almighty, to thank him for a deliverance accomplished with so little bloodshed, and to implore a continuation of his mercies. it was a scene which no description can equal. in the depth of the night the immense crowds of people kneeling, their figures illuminated by the glare of the fires lighted in the streets, praying to god their deliverer, presented a sight to have touched even tyrants, could they have witnessed it. when prayers were over, plans were adopted for the defence of the city. some of the barriers were barricaded, and fortified with cannon. officers were sent to praga with detachments to reinforce the garrison at the bridge. wagons were also sent to praga for ammunition. as the detachments approached the bridge, they perceived that their way was obstructed by a body of russian cavalry. this cavalry were not aware of the presence of the two companies of light infantry who had been sent thither by the patriots. as the cavalry advanced upon the bridge the light infantry gave them a volley and charged. at the same time the detachments fell on from the border street, and compelled them to retire with severe loss. some companies formed by the populace, had already taken possession of praga, and all was quiet. many wagon loads of cartridges, balls, and barrels of powder, were taken from the magazine to warsaw before morning. these are the details of the first night of our revolution. the order which prevailed in all these tumults and during the fight, was truly admirable. the foreigners then in warsaw declared that they could not enough praise the behavior of the troops and populace in the very height of a revolution. the utmost forbearance was evinced toward persons and property. no individual was slain or abused without provocation, nor was any house or store entered without the consent of the owner. from the open windows of many houses even ladies witnessed our deeds, and waved their handkerchiefs, without fear of danger or insult. they were quiet and delighted spectators of the crowds, who, after expelling the russians, moved through the streets in perfect order, shouting songs of joy. these were moments in which the heart of every good patriot rejoiced, and traitors alone hid their heads. footnotes: [footnote : the enemies of our country have endeavored to persuade the world that this party was sent to take the grand duke's life. it is an infamous calumny. the order to seize the grand duke, was given with the noblest intention;--to secure him from the dangers attendant on a revolution, and to prevent farther bloodshed by his captivity. the poles magnanimously intended to requite his long continued cruelty with the kindest treatment. he would have been placed in safety, and supplied with all the comforts of life in the palace of bruhl, which was expressly named for the place of his abode. the persons sent to seize him were selected for their habitual moderation and self-restraint. by his flight, constantine accused himself. the just man fears nothing; the guilty conscience anticipates danger. the grand duke injured himself as well as our cause by his flight. his melancholy end is well known.] [footnote : gendre was one of the russian generals, who was among the chief spies. he was dismissed by the deceased emperor, alexander, on account of impositions and even accusations of theft, nor was he allowed to show himself in petersburgh during the life-time of alexander. he arrived, in , in warsaw, when it was the pleasure of constantine to associate and surround himself with the outcasts of society; and he made him his master of horse, and afterwards general and aid-de-camp. the swindling of this general and his wife, in warsaw, surpassed all imagination. they cheated and robbed the noblemen, the merchants, the jews, and their own master, the grand duke. according to the accounts found during the revolution, their debts, in gaming and otherwise, amounted to more than a million of polish gilders.] [footnote : every pole lamented the melancholy fate of stanislaus potocki. he was one of the most honest of men, and beloved by the army and the whole nation. he always kept aloof from all familiar intercourse with the russians, and his house was a true polish dwelling. he had always scorned russian protection; and, to every patriot, the end of this man, who had become gray in the service of his country, is a sad recollection. yet every one must confess his death was just, and cannot be a reproach to his countrymen, since he listened neither to the advice nor the intreaties of his brethren, and thus publicly avowed his adherence to the cause of despotism.--as to general trembizki, he had always been a creature of the russians, and a proud and mischievous man.] [footnote : the early part of the career of general hauke was not without merit, but it was tarnished by his later conduct. he was born in germany, and came to poland, under the reign of stanislaus, as a poor mechanic. after leaving his trade he was enrolled in the army, and advanced rapidly in the revolutionary war under kosciusko, in which he distinguished himself by military skill. in the wars under napoleon he defended the fortress of zamosc with great valor. but, from the beginning of the russian sway and the arrival of the grand duke at warsaw, this man became one of his chief minions, and by fawning and intrigue obtained the post of minister of war. in the same year he was raised to the nobility, and was made count, senator, and wayewode. in the whole history of poland the rapidity of this advancement is unexampled. hauke received these dignities as a reward for his oppression of his inferiors, and for acts of injustice of every kind. as for mieciszewski, he had always been a villain.] [footnote : this bad man was one of the principal instruments of our oppressors. he was one of the chiefs of the spies, and his particular business was to observe all foreigners coming to warsaw. he invited them to his house to ascertain their characters, and was assisted at his soirees in his base designs, by the female spies. under the show of the utmost cordiality, by presents, and by means of love affairs, he was wont to endeavor to draw them to the russian interest, in order to use them as spies in their own countries. he often succeeded, and several foreigners might be named, who came to warsaw on the most innocent business or to gratify their curiosity, but who, after having frequented the parties of sass, and handled russian gold, returned to their own country to betray it. such are the means by which russia steals deeper and deeper into the heart of europe.] [footnote : the chief of spies, general rozniecki, escaped. he was one of the most vicious characters imaginable: his crimes surpass expression. he was the oldest general in the polish army, in which he had served forty years. he entered the service under king stanislaus. under napoleon he commanded a brigade, and subsequently a division of cavalry. of his character, while in the service of napoleon, not much is known. under the government of russia, this man, already sixty years old, degraded himself irredeemably by becoming one of the most atrocious and detestable tools of tyranny. a volume might be filled with the history of his intrigues, swindlings, and other crimes. as chief of the secret police, he had under him many agents whom he sent throughout the land to extort money for him on unjust pretences. wo to the unhappy man who refused compliance with any of his demands! he was sure to find his fate in a prison. in the army, those who bribed him were promoted. rozniecki was the intimate friend of the grand duke. the following anecdote may serve to give the reader some idea of his consummate art in fraud. it was a part of rozniecki's business to pay the spies, and they received their salaries at his house. he divided the delators into several classes, and rewarded them according to the quickness and importance of their information. by his arrangement of this business he cheated the very spies! in the room where he received their denunciations he had a chest of drawers placed, behind which a clerk was concealed. this clerk wrote down their reports as he heard them, taking care to date them somewhat earlier. when the spy had ended his story and applied for his reward, rozniecki would declare that he recollected having heard the whole affair the day before. he would then leave the room and return with the forged record. thus would he defraud the spy of his shameful earnings. accounts of immense sums received by him were found in his house during the revolution. he was more than once accused of murder by poison, and other enormous crimes, but the proceedings against him were suppressed. on the first evening of the revolution this man happened to be in an assembly of spies in the city hall. he was there to give his instructions. on hearing the tumult, his conscience smote him, and he stole away without saying a word. finding a coach at hand, he offered the coachman money to permit him to drive himself whither he pleased. he made his escape in the coachman's cloak. his effigy was exhibited on the gallows seven days, decorated with a dozen russian orders.] chapter iii. the first day.--expulsion of the russians from warsaw.--choice of chlopicki as commander in chief.--provisional government under the presidency of prince adam czartoriski.--deputation sent to the grand duke.--propositions and answer.--abolition of the bureau of police.--establishment of the national guard.--proclamations addressed to the inhabitants of the provinces and the distant troops.--provision for the russian prisoners.--the academical legions formed.--arrival of detachments from the provinces.--the grand duke consents to leave the kingdom, and addresses a proclamation to the poles. the first day of freedom, after so many years of oppression, was hailed with shouts of 'our country! poland forever!' at about six in the morning the drums beat for the assembly of the troops in all the parts of the city in our possession. crowds flocked from all sides to the public places. it was a scene never equalled. the whole people assembled, without distinction of rank, age, or sex. old men who were past the use of swords, brandished their sticks and crutches, and recalled the times of kosciusko. clergymen, civil officers, foreigners, jews, even women and children armed with pistols, mingled in the ranks. the multitude, thus assembled, marched to the northern and southern parts of the city, to drive the russians out. the fourth regiment and a body of the inhabitants marched into the northern quarter of warsaw, to attack two regiments of infantry who occupied the _champ de mars_ and the whole district thence to the barrier of powazko. this division had with them two small pieces of cannon. as soon as they reached the point of attack they fired a few rounds, raised the 'hurrah,' and threw themselves upon the russians, who made no resistance, but fled in disorder beyond the barrier above mentioned, where the pursuit ceased. in the mean while, the battalion of sappers had marched through the suburb of cracow and the street of wirzbwa to the southern part of the city. they met the enemy's cavalry, at the place of saxony, a short distance from the church of the cross. the russians discharged their carbines, and a brisk fire was kept up until the cry to cease firing and attack with the bayonet was heard on all sides. they gave way before the charge, and fled in the greatest confusion, as the infantry had done before them. they were pursued beyond the barriers of mokotow. the whole city was cleared of the russians before nine o'clock. the walls opposite the russian troops were manned by soldiers and armed citizens. while this expulsion was being effected, some of the patriots were employed in the city in choosing a military chief. they agreed to offer the command to chlopicki.[ ] towards eleven, general chlopicki was led by the people, with acclamations, to the hotel of the minister of finance, where many senators and other persons were assembled to take measures respecting a provisional government, the security of public order, &c. chlopicki was received with acclamations by the chiefs of the nation; and after all had declared their consent, he was proclaimed commander in chief. he was addressed on this occasion by professor lelewell, one of the patriots, who, after drawing the picture of our past sufferings, and comparing it with our hopes of the future, concluded with the following words, addressed directly to chlopicki. 'brother--take the sword of your ancestors and predecessors, czarnecki, dombrowski, and kosciusko. guide the nation that has placed its trust in you, in the way of honor. save this unhappy country.' this ceremony concluded, chlopicki was shown to the assembled people from the balcony. they received him with shouts of 'our country and our liberator chlopicki forever!' many cried, 'chlopicki, rely on us, and lead us to lithuania!' the general thanked them for their confidence in him, promised never to abuse it, and swore that he would defend the liberty of poland to the last moment. the patriots now proceeded to choose members of the provisional government. prince adam czartoriski,[ ] radzivil,[ ] niemcewicz, and lelewell were elected, and one of the old ministers, lubecki, was retained to assist them. this arrangement was made public about noon, in order to tranquilize the people. the first step taken by the new government was to send deputies to the grand duke. they were instructed to demand whether he meant to depart peaceably, or to attack the city. among the deputies were lubecki and lelewell. they found the grand duke encamped, with his army, in the fields of mokotow. the deputies represented to constantine the consequences that would result from an attack on the city, as well in regard to himself as to the nation. they informed him that the army had already joined the people, and proposed to him that he should depart unmolested, on a prescribed route. they promised that he should find every possible accommodation provided on that route, for himself and his troops. the grand duke demanded some time for reflection, and finally gave the deputies the following answer in writing. art. i. the grand duke declares that it was never his intention to attack warsaw. in case he should find himself under the necessity of so doing, he will give the authorities notice of his intention forty-eight hours before the attack. art. ii. the grand duke will entreat the emperor to grant an amnesty for the past. art. iii. the grand duke declares that he has sent no orders to the russian forces in lithuania to pass the frontier of the kingdom. art. iv. prisoners will be exchanged. the deputies returned to warsaw with this answer, at three o'clock. it was immediately published, but did not satisfy the people. they demanded to know the day and hour of the grand duke's departure. if he should refuse to obey, they declared that they would attack him. it was finally concluded to allow him two days for his necessary arrangements, and then to send a second deputation to insist on his instant departure.[ ] the provisional government immediately set about restoring order to every department of the administration. the bureau of police was abolished, and a council of citizens was substituted in its place, under the direction of the aged and worthy wengrzecki. this man had been president of warsaw in the times of the grand duchy. he was compelled to leave this office, by certain persecutions, which he brought upon himself by not being sufficiently in the spirit of the russian government. at the same time the national guard was established, and placed under the command of count lubinski. the guard began their service on the very same day. they mounted guard at the bank and the public treasury, and their patrols maintained order in all parts of the city. their duties were performed with the utmost punctuality. all the shops were opened, and the city wore as peaceful an aspect as if there had been no army before it. at the same time the provisional government sent proclamations into all the provinces, to inform the nation of these events. they began with the following beautifully figurative expression: 'poles! the eagle of poland has broken his chains, and will soon have burst through the clouds into those purer regions in which nothing shall shut from him the light of the sun.' the military government issued proclamations to the troops at all the distant stations, ordering them to repair forthwith to warsaw. the divisions of chasseurs received orders in case of an attack from the grand duke, to fall on his rear and cut off his retreat. the city itself was put in a better state of defence; the barriers were fortified, and guarded by strong detachments; all was prepared for an attack. the government made proper provision for the care of the russian prisoners, of whatever rank, as well as of the ladies of the russian civil and military officers who had left warsaw. the royal palace was assigned for the residence of the officers and ladies; the privates were lodged in barracks. at a later period they were permitted to go about the streets and earn money by their labor, in addition to their usual allowance. the russians were so touched by this generous treatment, that they swore, with tears, never to forget it. these details of the first day of our revolution, for the correctness of which i pledge myself, may serve to answer the accusations of some journalists, who have stated that the commencement of the national struggle was marked with the greatest atrocities, and that more than forty field officers, many subalterns, and large parties of privates were butchered for declining to engage in the cause. these impeachments of the polish nation are unjust and false. as has been said before, the foreigners in warsaw could not sufficiently praise the admirable order with which our first movements were conducted. our enemies accuse the people of having robbed the public treasuries.--i affirm that not a gilder was lost--neither public nor private property was pillaged. as the enemy was still encamped before the city on the first and second of december, and had as yet given no decisive answer respecting the time of his departure, the people, as well as the army, were still under arms and upon the walls. at this time the twelve companies of students, called the academical legions, were organized. it was heart-stirring to see these noble youths assembled in arms to defend their country. many of them had just been rescued from prison, and could not walk without difficulty. this did not damp their ardor; the hope of fighting successfully for the liberty of poland renewed their strength. the academical legions requested to be sent to the posts nighest the enemy. these two days passed in entire quietness. in the afternoon of the second of december, general schenbek arrived from plock with the first regiment of chasseurs. at the same time came colonel sierawski from serock, with his regiment. both were received with great enthusiasm. new detachments from the provinces marched into warsaw every day. a truly affecting sight it was to see more than a thousand peasants, and about fifty peasant girls from the country about warsaw, marching into the city with clubs, scythes, and weapons of every description. they were escorted by the shouting populace to the bank, and there welcomed by the national government. at the request of the people, another deputation was this day sent to the grand duke, to urge his departure, and to inform him that an attack would be the necessary consequence of his refusal. the grand duke saw the necessity of compliance, and decided to commence his march on the following day, by the prescribed route of pulawa. he issued a proclamation to the polish nation, wherein he promised never to fight against those, 'whom,' to use his own expression, 'he had always loved.' he adduced his marriage with a young polish lady as a proof of his affection for the nation. at the same time he promised to entreat the emperor to grant an amnesty, and to take, in general, the mildest measures. he begged the poles to deal gently with the russian prisoners, their families, the ladies, and in short with all russian subjects remaining in warsaw.[ ] footnotes: [footnote : general chlopicki, a man of rare merit, began his career in the struggle for liberty under kosciusko. in , he was colonel commandant of the first regiment of the legion of the vistula, under napoleon. he had the command of a brigade, and afterwards of a division, of the same legion in spain. this general distinguished himself at the storming of saragossa, where the poles performed prodigies of valor, as well as at the battle of saginta. under the russian government of constantine, chlopicki left the army, not being able to endure his commander's brutal deportment. the grand duke censured the general on parade, in an unbecoming manner, saying that his division was not in order. chlopicki replied, 'i did not gain my rank on the parade ground, nor did i receive my decorations there.' he asked his discharge the next day. in later times the emperor alexander and the grand duke himself endeavored to induce him to return to the service, but chlopicki never consented. he preferred a retired life to the splendor of russian slavery. this gained him the esteem of the whole nation.] [footnote : prince adam czartoriski was born on the th of june, . he is the oldest son of prince casimir czartoriski, palatine of russia, and princess elizabeth fleming, daughter of count george fleming, first treasurer of lithuania and palatine of pomerania. the czartoriski family are descended from the gedamines, who reigned over lithuania in the thirteenth century, a descendant of whom, jagelon, reigned long and gloriously in poland. at the last partition of poland, adam czartoriski and his brother constantine were sent to st petersburgh as hostages. while residing in the russian capital, prince adam was on terms of friendly intimacy with the grand duke alexander. this friendship influenced, perhaps, his political career. he was sent as an ambassador to the court of sardinia, and when alexander ascended the throne, he was recalled, and entrusted with the portfolio of foreign affairs. he declined this charge for a long time, and at last accepted it at the earnest entreaty of alexander, on condition that he should be allowed to retire as soon as the discharge of his official duties should militate against the interests of his country. at the same time, he was appointed curator of the university of wilna, and yet another important duty devolved on him, which was the establishment of schools in all the russian provinces of poland. though the russians cannot see a pole in so honorable a station without jealousy, the conduct of prince adam was so noble as to win the hearts of all. he did not surround himself with parasites; his course was plain and upright, and he scorned the idea of receiving rewards from government. he would not even accept a salary. in , czartoriski resigned his ministerial office, but retained his place over the university, hoping to do more good in it. he increased the number of elementary schools and those of all classes of instruction. he reformed the antiquated institutions of the university, and gave the whole course of instruction a more simple and convenient form, which was also better adapted to the wants of the middle classes of the people. by these means he hoped to develope and elevate the national character, in these classes. the events of showed but too plainly that the misfortunes which then befell france was owing to the same cause to which the previous distress of russia was attributable; viz. the non-existence of poland. if poland had remained independent in her original extent, the two gigantic powers could not have come in contact, and the equilibrium of europe, now entirely lost, would have been preserved. it was, then, a true and necessary policy to bring forward the question of the independence of poland again. this was the object prince adam czartoriski kept in view during the war between france and russia, and it was in the hope of effecting it that he accompanied alexander to paris in . he was not anxious without reason. the emperor alexander satisfied him, in part, and proposed to the congress of vienna to erect the grand duchy of poland into a kingdom. this kingdom received a constitution and several other national institutions. an entire freedom of trade with the remaining polish provinces under russia, austria, and prussia, was assured to it. all these promises were published and confirmed by alexander at warsaw in . yet, in the very act of confirmation, several privileges which the emperor had promised to czartoriski were retracted; and this was owing to the influence of the other powers, and the principles of the holy alliance. russian policy made these restrictions more and more sensibly felt, and unfortunate poland beheld, one after another, the institutions so solemnly guarantied to her, vanishing away. indignant at these breaches of promise on the part of russia, prince czartoriski resigned the curatorship of the university of wilna, in , in which he had been the means of effecting much good, particularly in the cause of patriotism and liberty; and in order to free himself from all connection with the intriguing cabinet of russia, he went, with his whole family, on a journey to foreign countries. this prince was proprietor of the beautiful town of pulawa, which nature and art have united to make one of the finest in europe. the reader will, perhaps, be pleased with a short description of this place, which no traveller in the north of europe will fail to visit. the little town of pulawa is situated about eighteen leagues south of warsaw, on the main road to lemberg in gallicia, on the right bank of the vistula. the windings of this noble stream are so happily turned as to present a prospect of both its sides, till it reaches the horizon. the breadth of the river near this town is nearly three english miles. its shores are broken into little hills covered with wood, in the intervals of which fine villages meet the eye, and in the distance are seen the picturesque ruins of casimir. the town of pulawa itself is situated on the declivity of a high bank, which declines toward the river in the form of an amphitheatre. this declivity is laid out as a garden in the purest taste, terminating, toward the river, in extensive meadows, planted with groves of oaks and poplars, and enlivened by herds of tyrolese cattle, cottages, shepherds' cabins, &c, in various styles of building. this garden surrounds pulawa, and is itself surrounded by great parks, which extend several leagues beyond it in every direction. these are intersected by beautiful avenues of linden trees. among the many works in marble, statues, obelisks, &c, the temple of sibylla, with its magnificent statue of alabaster, is distinguished, as is also the statue of a nymph in one of the grottos, a masterpiece of sculpture. the palace, consisting of a main building with two wings, is a noble piece of architecture. its apartments are rich and splendid. prince czartoriski has the largest library in poland, and the greatest private library in europe, which is open to the public. czartoriski happened to be in pulawa when the revolution broke out. summoned to the helm of the state by the nation, he hastened to devote his exertions to his country. laudable as his previous career had been, it was excelled by his conduct during the struggle, in which he represented the _beau ideal_ of virtue and patriotism. through all the stormy changes of popular opinion he continued firm and unwavering, having but one view, one aim, the good of his country. he carried to the chief magistrate's seat the same calmness, the same mildness which had characterised his private life. he was never actuated by passion. he considered all poles as brethren. though in the sixtieth year of his age, he did not shrink from the fatigues of war, but constantly accompanied skrzynecki, to whom he was much attached, in his marches, and was at his side in many battles. his whole character was essentially noble.] [footnote : prince michael radzivil was born in lithuania, on his family estate called nieswiez. he is nephew of prince anthony radzivil, governor-general of the grand duchy of posen, and brother-in-law of the king of prussia. this prince was commander of a brigade in the time of napoleon, and distinguished himself at the siege of dantzic. he retired from service under the russian government, and lived privately in warsaw. he was a man of quiet character, and a sincere patriot, but not of eminent military talents.] [footnote : the grand duke's army at mokatow, consisted of the following regiments. |infantry.|cavalry.|artillery. . infantry grenadiers, two battalions | | | . light infantry | | | . battalion for instruction | | | . cuirasseurs of podolia squadrons | | | . hulan, cesarowicz ' | | | . hussars of grodno ' | | | . battery of horse artillery | | | pieces. . battery of foot artillery | | | " +---------+--------+---------- total, | | | " +---------+--------+---------- of polish soldiers, he had six companies of grenadiers of the foot guard, and one regiment of chasseurs of the guard. these regiments, however, returned to warsaw and joined the nation on the second of december. the true cause of the grand duke's demand for time was, that he hoped to exert a secret influence on those of the polish troops who had not yet joined the people. this fact was confirmed by two captured spies, one of whom he had despatched to the light-horse in lowicz, and the other to the division of hussars of siedlec. the letters they carried to the commanders of these forces urged them, with promises of great rewards, to join the grand duke.] [footnote : these proclamations, which were immediately published in the warsaw papers, contain clear proof that the grand duke had no injuries on the part of the polish nation to complain of, and that he himself felt that the poles were constrained to revolt.] chapter iv. the patriotic club commences its sessions.--character of that association.--the grand duke departs for the frontier.--particulars of his march.--the polish regiments which had remained with him return to moscow.--their reception.--krazynski and kornatowski.--deputation to st petersburgh.--demands to be laid before the emperor.--sierawski made governor of warsaw, and wasowiez chief of the staff.--order respecting the army.--arrival of volunteers from the interior.--opening of the theatre.--religious solemnities at praga.--chlopicki nominated and proclaimed dictator. on the third of december the patriotic club began its session, under the guidance of very worthy persons. the object of this society was, to watch over all the departments of the administration, to see that the measures adopted were congenial with the wishes of the people, and in the spirit of the revolution; and to promote fraternity and union throughout the nation. they desired to repress all manifestations of selfishness or ambition, to discover and bring before the people the persons best qualified for public offices, and, in short, to promote the best interests of the nation with unwearied zeal. if this club was, at times, led by the fervor of patriotic feeling to adopt measures considered rigorous by many, their acts were never inconsistent with the love of country, or their own views of the national honor. at this time, a committee was also appointed for the trial of the spies. on the morning of the third of december, the grand duke commenced his march towards pulawa, according to agreement,[ ] and the polish regiments which had remained with constantine up to this time, now returned to warsaw. these troops were at first regarded by the people with feelings of indignation. such feelings were, however, soon dissipated by the explanations which were given. they had been misled by their generals, krasynski and kornatowski. as to general zimyrski, who commanded the grenadiers, he was entirely blameless. he had intended to join the patriots at first, but was detained as a prisoner by the russians. the other two generals persuaded their men that the revolutionary movements were only disturbances of the mob, excited by the students, and would quickly come to an end. they ought not, they told them, to forsake their legitimate government and the grand duke. it was impossible afterwards for these regiments to learn the truth, as they were closely surrounded by the russians, and cut off from all communication with others. early on the third of december, when the grand duke had resolved to depart, he visited these troops in person, and declared before them that he left warsaw only to avoid useless bloodshed, and that order would soon be restored. he requested them to go with him, as they were regiments of guards, in whom the emperor had peculiar confidence. 'soldiers,' he said, 'will you go with us; or stay and unite with those who have proved faithless to their sovereign?' with one voice the whole corps exclaimed, 'we will remain--we will join our brethren and fight for the liberty of our country. we are sorry that we could not do so from the beginning, but we were deceived.' the people who had assembled to gaze at these unfortunate men, with unfavorable and unjust feelings toward them, were disarmed of their resentment at the very sight of them, and rushed into their embraces. they were surrounded by the multitude, and taken, with joyful acclamations, to the place of the bank. but though the people forgave the soldiers, their indignation remained unabated against their generals, and the greatest efforts of the leading patriots were required to save krasynski and kornatowski from their rage. it was dreadful to behold these generals riding with downcast looks, not daring to look on those whom they had intended to betray. death would certainly have been preferable to thus meeting the curses of a justly incensed people. mothers held up their children, and, pointing at the two generals, exclaimed, 'see the traitors!' arriving at the bank, the people demanded that krasynski and kornatowski should give their reasons for having acted as they had done; and as the wretched men could say nothing in their own defence, a general cry arose of 'death to the traitors!' nothing but the love of the people for chlopicki and schembeck, who interceded, could have hindered them from carrying their wishes into immediate execution. several excited individuals made their way toward the culprits with pistols in their hands, and, after aiming at them, fired their weapons into the air, crying, 'you are unworthy of a shot from a polish hand. live--to be everlastingly tortured by your consciences!' the unfortunate men entreated that they might be permitted to serve in the ranks, as privates. they were immediately deprived of their commissions, and from that time they lived in retirement during the war.[ ] the people were this day informed that prince adam czartoriski had been nominated president of the national government; that the eighteenth of december was appointed for the opening of the diet; that till that day the rights of the emperor nicholas would be acknowledged; and that lubecki, osvowski, and jezierski would be sent to st petersburgh, as a deputation, to inform the emperor of all that had happened. they were also to lay before him the following demands: st. that all russian troops should be withdrawn from the kingdom forever, that a perpetual conflict between the two nations might be avoided. d. that the privileges of the constitution should be again confirmed in their fullest extent. d. that all the ancient polish provinces incorporated with russia should partake in the privileges of the constitution, as alexander had promised. the deputies were also instructed to entreat the emperor to come to warsaw and open the diet, in order to satisfy himself respecting the actual state of affairs. the deputies left warsaw that very evening. the commander in chief appointed general sierawski governor of the city of warsaw, and colonel count wonsowicz chief of the staff. these officers were both beloved by the people, and proved themselves able and zealous defenders of their country through the whole campaign. the commander in chief also published an order, that the army should consist of , men. each wayewodeship (principality) was to furnish , infantry and , horse. there are eight wayewodeships in poland. the army already existing, the volunteer forces, and the regiments raised and equipped by some of the noblemen, were not reckoned in this estimate, nor did it include the volunteers which were to be expected from the polish provinces under other foreign governments. the fourth, fifth, and sixth of december were remarkable days in the history of our revolution. soldiers and peasants flocked in from all sides--from all quarters of the country. in a short time, more than five thousand peasants, armed with scythes, axes, and other weapons, were counted. among them were more than two hundred peasant girls, with sickles. these were days of real joy, when all united in the defence of poland, without distinction of rank, age, or even sex--when rich and poor, nobles and peasants, met, as friends escaped from common sufferings, and embraced. tables were spread with refreshments for those who arrived, in the streets. the fourth was remarkable for the opening of the theatre.[ ] religious solemnities took place in praga on the fifth, and on the sixth a dictator was nominated.[ ] when, on the sixth of december, the national government notified chlopicki of his nomination as generalissimo, he replied, that they had no power to place him in that station; that in such critical times the civil and military power ought to be vested in one person, and that he felt himself entitled, by his long services, to nominate himself dictator. his powers, he said, he would lay down on the assemblage of the diet. in the afternoon of the next day he was proclaimed dictator in the champ de mars, amidst the acclamations of an immense multitude. after this, he took a public oath to act in accordance with the spirit of the people, and to defend the rights and privileges of poland. footnotes: [footnote : the details of the grand duke's march may not be uninteresting to the reader, and at the same time they will serve to refute the false report that he was pursued by the poles. early in the morning of the third of december, the grand duke left his camp at mokotow, and marched on the route of kosienice and pulawa. agents had been sent in advance in this direction, to procure for him every convenience, which he found uniformly prepared. in a village between kosienice and graniza, where he halted with his troops, he met intendant general wolicki, who was on his way from lublin to warsaw. wolicki waited on the grand duke, in the hope that he might render him some service. constantine had quartered himself in the house of the curate of the village, and received the intendant general in the parlor, where the grand duchess lowicz was present. wolicki requested his orders with regard to the accommodation of the troops. constantine coldly thanked him, and immediately began to complain of the poles; in which he was joined by his lady. he reproached the nation with the benefits he had conferred on them, and seizing wolicki violently by the hand, added, 'and for all this they wanted to assassinate me!' when wolicki, in the most delicate manner, represented that his residence had been entered with the best intentions toward his person, the grand duke, with yet greater exasperation and fury, exclaimed, 'they have chased me out of the country--but i shall soon return.' in his rage he again seized wolicki's hand, saying, 'you shall stay with me, as a hostage for my generals retained in warsaw.' notwithstanding the expostulations of wolicki, he was arrested and detained. he however was not long a prisoner, for he soon found means to regain his liberty. the grand duke passed that night at the village of graniza, some of the inhabitants of which wolicki knew. he found opportunity to speak with one of them in the night, told him what had befallen, and desired him to raise a false alarm, as if the poles were at hand. it was done. the citizens began to shout in the streets, and wolicki, profiting by the fright and disorder of the russians, escaped. he arrived at warsaw on the following day, and related his adventure, which was published as an illustration of the grand duke's perfidy and inconsistency. this conduct, together with his threats, would have justified the poles in pursuing and taking him, with his whole army, prisoners. but the nation generously suffered this opportunity for revenge to pass by, and adhered to the promise of a free passage. on his arrival in pulawa, constantine was received by the princess czartoriska in the most friendly manner, as he also was in lubartow by the princess lubomirska. in the latter place, general rosniecki, who accompanied the grand duke, demanded an apartment in a pavilion adjoining the palace, which was designed for the suite of constantine. the princess answered, in the presence of the grand duke, 'there is no room for traitors to their country in my house.' on the way to lenczna, the russian army met a division of polish lancers, marching to siedlec. they halted in order to go through the ceremony of saluting. the grand duke, with his suite, approached them with an air of perfect friendship, shook hands with several, and endeavored to persuade them to return with him. 'hulans,' said he, 'do not forget your duty to your monarch, but set your comrades a good example.' he then offered them money and other rewards. indignant at his proposals, the lancers replied, 'prince, we thank you for the money and promises you offer us, but there is no command more sacred in our eyes than the call of our country; no greater reward than the privilege of fighting in her cause!' with this, they wheeled, and continued their march past the russian troops, singing patriotic songs. the grand duke passed the frontier with his forces on the thirteenth of december, and crossing the wadowa, entered volhynia, an ancient polish province, now incorporated with russia. i cannot forbear to record the noble conduct of colonel turno, a pole, and aid-de-camp to the grand duke. this officer had been fourteen years with constantine, and was one of the few honest men in his suite. his long endurance of his chief's follies and rudeness could have had no other motive than the hope of doing good to others, and preventing mischief. constantine loved him, valued him highly, and was firmly convinced that turno would remain with him. what was his surprise, when, at the frontier, turno rode up to take his leave! at first, he was unable to answer. after some time he said, with an expression of heartfelt grief, 'turno, and will you leave me--you, upon whom i had placed my greatest hopes--whom i loved so much--who have been with me so long?' turno answered, with dignity, 'your highness may be assured that i am sorry to part with you. i have certainly always been your friend, and i am so still. i should never leave you in another cause--no, not in the greatest distress: on the contrary i should be happy to share every misfortune with you. but, your highness, other circumstances and duties call me now--the highest and weightiest duty--the duty a man owes to his country. your highness, i have done all that honor and duty commanded as your aid-de-camp--i have accompanied you to the frontier, that i might be your guide as long as you should remain on polish ground, and preserve you from every possible danger. _now_ you need me no longer. you are in your own country, and my duty as your aid-de-camp being at an end, it is now my sacred duty as a pole to return at the summons of my country.' the grand duke marched with his corps towards bialystok, where he remained till the beginning of the campaign. in the war, he was not ashamed to accept the command of a corps of the army, and to fight against those who had treated him so generously, his promises to the contrary notwithstanding.] [footnote : these polish regiments and generals are, doubtless, the same who were reported by the berlin state gazette to have been butchered. so far from that, the nation received them kindly, and forgave them. prussians! you know little of the poles, or of their feelings. the time may come when we shall know one another better.] [footnote : this was the first time the theatre was opened during the revolution. a patriotic piece was performed, viz. 'the krakovians and guralians,' or 'the union of the two tribes.' this play had been prohibited before. as early as six, p.m. the theatre was crowded. no distinction was observed in regard to places. before the play began, one of the patriots addressed the audience with a speech, in which he called to memory all the outrages by which the revolution had been rendered necessary, and informed them what measures the national assembly had taken to insure the success of the good cause. 'poles! brethren!' he said, 'we have sent deputies to the emperor, to represent our sufferings for fifteen years--our oppressions--which drew neither attention nor relief from russia, while our rights were trampled upon, and our innocent brethren tortured. perhaps the emperor, surrounded by bad men, has been kept in ignorance of our wrongs, and will be astonished to hear of all this injustice from the mouths of our deputies. perhaps he will take measures to redress all these villanies without delay. if the grace of god has granted him to reign over poland, he may follow the steps of our good kings of old; of whom no one ever tarnished the throne with tyranny. as for us, brethren, let us forget past dissensions, and unitedly and patiently strive with one accord for the redemption of our country.' after this speech, which was joyfully received, the orchestra played kosciusko's march, which had not been heard for fifteen years. at first, the music was drowned in the shouts of the audience--'hail, our country--our father kosciusko! france, and lafayette the friend of kosciusko, forever!' after this, the marseilles hymn was played, and then the mazur of dombrowski. the play was full of patriotic songs, and the audience joined their voices to those of the actors. but when, at the end of the play, three standards, with the armorial bearings of the ancient provinces of poland, were brought in, and were folded into one in the embraces of the actors who represented the three chief tribes, the exultation of the audience surpassed all bounds. one of the favorite actors addressed the spectators in these words--'the monster tyranny, terrified by the sudden light of liberty, which he could not endure, has left the den from which he has hitherto spread death and affright. oh that, scared by this light, he may be driven farther and farther, nor be suffered to rest on any of the fields of poland. may he retire to the dark, icy regions of the north, whence he came, and god grant that he may never return to us.' after this, those of the patriots who had been most actively distinguished on the first night of the revolution and after, and those who had suffered in dungeons for their love of country, were presented to the assemblage. they were received with infinite joy, and carried about on the shoulders of the people with shouts. many ladies were then brought forward, who had followed the patriots in arms on the first night, or had sacrificed their wealth on the altar of patriotism. at first sight, these beautiful and noble beings might have been taken for angels sent down for the redemption of unhappy poland. these scenes surpass description--they can only be felt by hearts truly free. these were moments to unite the whole nation. persons who had shunned each other for years, each fearing a spy in the other, explained themselves and embraced. these scenes will live eternally in the memory of every pole. beholding his countrymen in this ecstasy of joy, there was none who did not weep--none who did not feel ready to die on the morrow, having seen them thus happy. the prisoner condemned to death, when unexpectedly rescued, and permitted to breathe the free air, laughs, weeps, endeavors to express his gratitude, and cannot. such was the feeling of poland in these blessed moments.] [footnote : on sunday, the fifth of december, prayers were offered up in all the churches of warsaw by the people from the provinces as well as the inhabitants. the blessing of the most high was implored on our arms. of all the religious solemnities, those of praga were the most edifying and affecting. a mass was said in the open air, at an altar erected on the spot where the victims of suwarrow had been buried. this altar was surrounded by more than , men, who sent up one voice to god. the twelve academical legions formed the innermost circle, among whom those who had been imprisoned for assisting on a similar occasion were conspicuous. in the intervals of divine service, and after its termination, several speeches were delivered, one of which was by one of the liberated prisoners. recalling the cruelties perpetrated by suwarrow, as well as those which we had lately suffered, he observed, 'brethren, we were lately forbidden--nay, it was accounted a crime, to pray for our unfortunate murdered ancestors. to-day, under this free vault of heaven, on the grave of our fathers, on the soil moistened with their sacred blood, which cries to us for retribution, in the presence of their spirits hovering over us, we swear never to lay down our arms till we shall have avenged, or fallen like them.' the assembled multitude then sung a patriotic hymn. the sixth of december was remarkable for the nomination of chlopicki to the dictatorship;--the union of the supreme civil and military powers in his person. the authority of the provisional government was thus at an end; every thing was referred to the dictator. in the afternoon, more than , persons assembled in the champ de mars and the space around it. the greater part of the army, too, were present. chlopicki came with the senators, and was received by those who had entrusted him with their defence with shouts of joy. his aspect was, indeed, venerable. his silver head, grown white in the service of poland, bespoke the confidence of all. the people were informed by one of the senators that all the powers of government had been delegated to chlopicki, in order that operations might be conducted with greater energy and despatch; yet with this restriction--that his authority should cease on the eighteenth of december. this, it will be remembered, was the day fixed for the opening of the diet, to which body all farther dispositions were referred. the proclamation made, chlopicki himself addressed the people thus: 'poles! brethren! the circumstances in which our country is placed demand strict unity of purpose, and therefore i have thought it best to accept the supreme power. but this is only for a time. i shall resign it on the meeting of the diet. rely on my experience, which is the fruit of long service, and on my age, which has taught me the knowledge of mankind. be assured that no selfish feeling has impelled me to this step, and that i have consented to take it only to promote the welfare of poland. the truth of this i call god to witness.--may he assist me to make my promises good. hail to our dear country!' the last sentence was clamorously echoed by the people, with the addition of, 'and its brave defender chlopicki!' many in the assembly exclaimed, 'lead us to lithuania, chlopicki!'] chapter v. the dictator enters upon his duties.--plans for the enrollment of new forces.--system of officering them.--want of energy in the execution of his plans.--fortifications neglected.--the people supply the deficiencies of the administration.--discovery of the correspondence between the ministers grabowski and lubecki.--the march of the army delayed.--answer of the emperor nicholas to the deputies. his proclamation.--its effect on the nation.--the diet demand of the dictator an account of his trust.--the result of their investigations.--chlopicki deprived of the dictatorial power.--the civil administration entrusted to prince adam czartoryski, and the command of the army to prince michael radziwil, each subordinate to the diet. on the seventh of december, the new dictator took possession of the residence which had been prepared for him. a guard of honor was assigned him, consisting of a company of the academical legion. the twelve companies of which this legion was composed mounted guard in succession. the nation had conceived the highest hopes of chlopicki; they expected, above all, the most energetic measures in regard to the armament and organization of the forces. these hopes were not fulfilled. at the very commencement of his administration, it began to be seen that this man, either from his advanced age or the original inadequacy of his talents to the demands of such a situation, would fail to satisfy the wants of the nation. indeed, the union of so many different duties in the hands of one individual demanded abilities of no ordinary strength and compass. as might have been expected, the evident incapacity of chlopicki early became the occasion of dissension in the patriotic association already referred to, accusations being preferred, as a matter of course, against those who had been active in procuring his investment with such high powers. the succeeding events will enable the reader to decide for himself of the justice of such accusations. on assuming his post, the dictator adopted the following arrangements in regard to the enrollments of the new forces, and other objects of military administration. he estimated the army already in existence at , men, and sixty-two pieces of cannon. this army was constituted as follows:--the infantry was composed of nine regiments, of two battalions each, and a battalion of sappers, making a total of , men. the cavalry was also composed of nine regiments, each regiment consisting of four squadrons, , men in all. the artillery was divided into nine battalions, of eight pieces each, in all seventy-two pieces, exclusive of the artillery in the fortresses of modlin and zamosc. this force the dictator proposed to augment in the following manner:--each existing regiment was to receive a third battalion; and he intended to form fifteen new regiments, of three battalions each. this would have increased the total of infantry to , men, without taking into the account the national guard of warsaw and the other cities, amounting to , men. the cavalry was to be augmented by , making a total of , . to the artillery were to be added twenty-four pieces of cannon, making a total of ninety-six pieces. in this estimate the dictator did not include the aid that might be calculated upon from the provinces of prussian, austrian, and russian poland, the volunteers of every kind, and the regiments raised and equipped by the large landed proprietors. for each of the eight palatinates into which the kingdom was divided, an officer was appointed, whose duty it was to superintend the organization of the military forces, of which from seven to eight thousand infantry, and one thousand cavalry, were to be furnished by each palatinate. these officers were subordinate to two others, who had the supervision of four palatinates each, and bore the title of _regimentarz_. these last had the power of appointing all the officers of the new forces.[ ] the augmentation of the army was to have been completed by the twentieth of january, . but all these arrangements were made on paper only--the government did not press their execution. in fact, such a degree of negligence existed, that in some places where the people assembled to be enrolled, they found no officers to receive them, and, after waiting some time, they returned to their homes. it was, in truth, only by the energy of the nation, which supplied the deficiencies of the administration, that our forces were ever in any degree augmented. the volunteer force was in an especial manner liberally furnished by the people. a similar state of things existed with regard to the fortifications; and here again the energy of the people atoned for the negligence of the administration. this was especially the case at warsaw and praga, where all the citizens labored on the works of defence, without distinction of age or sex. the construction of barricades in the different streets of warsaw, and of mines in several parts of the city, was commenced by the citizens. the dictator, however, instead of occupying his attention with these warlike preparations, devoted it to diplomatic negociations, and despatched emissaries to the neighboring courts, charged with propositions made without the knowledge or the wish of the nation, and even, in some cases, incompatible with its honor, and inconsistent with the design of the revolution. all the measures, indeed, of the dictator, however well intended they might have been, indicated much weakness and indecision. such was the state of affairs when an event occurred that seemed to augur well for our prospects. this was the discovery of the correspondence between the ministers grabowski and lubecki, the former being secretary of state for poland and a member of the cabinet at st petersburgh, the latter minister of finance at warsaw. this correspondence afforded the clearest evidence that russia had intended to declare war against france, and that she was prepared to commence that war in december following.[ ] these letters were sent to paris in the early part of december, by an express, and ought to have convinced the french government of the hostile intentions of russia. they should have satisfied france that our revolution, and the war that was to follow, were a part of the great struggle in which her own existence was concerned. the existing army was, through the activity of the general officers, brought into such a state, by the middle of december, that it could then have taken the field against the enemy. the soldiers were eager for the struggle, but the delay of their march gave color to the supposition that an answer from the emperor was waited for. it was even rumored that the emperor was coming to warsaw in person. all this tended to damp the excitement of the moment. what, then, was the astonishment of the nation, when it was found that the monarch, far from admitting the severity of the oppression under which we had suffered fifteen years,--far from giving a paternal audience to the deputies which the nation had sent to him, and who, in its name, had presented the most moderate demands, (limited, in fact, to the ratification and observance of the constitution granted to us, and the union of the polish provinces under one government, as had been promised by alexander,)--far from consenting to repair to warsaw, as the deputies had entreated him to do, as a father among his children, to hear their complaints and satisfy himself as to their justice,--far from all this,--in a word, discarding all paternal feelings, he applied the term 'infamous' to the sacred effort we had been forced to make by the oppression under which we had so long suffered.[ ] the russian generals benkendorf and diebitsch, in a conversation, of which our revolution was the subject, and which took place in an interview with colonel wielezynski who was one of the deputies sent to the emperor, spoke of a general war as impending after poland should be crushed.[ ] colonel wielezynski returned from st petersburgh in the latter part of december, bringing with him the proclamation which has already been given to the reader, and which, being published, was received by the people with the utmost indignation. it was an insult to the honor and character of the nation, which demanded vengeance. the day of the promulgation of this document was a day of terrible agitation. the cry of 'to battle! to battle!' was heard in every quarter. the nation demanded to be led against the enemy at once. the word had gone forth 'there is no hope of peace.'[ ] it was with difficulty that the people could be restrained from rushing at once to the field and be persuaded to wait for a convocation of the diet fixed on the th of january. this delay was another error, for the time which intervened was uselessly employed. this diet in the opinion of the nation could decide upon nothing short of war. upon a just interpretation of the spirit of the emperor's proclamation, no other course could be taken consistently with the national honor. it was in consequence of this proclamation, of so criminatory, so unjust, so insulting a character, that nicholas romanoff and his successors were declared to have forfeited all claims to the throne of poland, and that that throne was declared vacant. the poles could no longer submit to a king, who, far from being willing to hear their complaints, far from guarantying the rights secured by the constitution, went the length of insulting that national honor to which all history has borne testimony. to what a future must poland, under such a king, have looked forward. better were it to risk the bloodiest conflict, nay, to be buried under the ruins of our country, than to remain the vile slaves of a man, who, relying on the force which he could control, was willing to take advantage of his strength to be unjust. the diet demanded of general chlopicki an account of his trust, in regard to the military and civil administration generally, and in a particular manner in regard to the preparation of the forces. the result of this inquiry was to satisfy them that there had been a general negligence of his duties, especially in regard to the increase and organization of the army. on examining the military reports, it was found that only the fifth part of the amount of force ordered to be levied, was as yet enrolled. two months had been wasted. the dictator, as has been already stated, occupied himself principally with diplomatic affairs, and seemed to forget that the country was to be defended. the diet saw that general chlopicki was hoping to finish the war by conferences, and that his eagerness for peace was betraying him into a forgetfulness of what was due to the national honor. in fine, a correspondence with the emperor nicholas was found to have been carried on by him.[ ] the dictator, it was seen, had been equally neglectful of the different fortifications. except at the principal points, praga, zamosc, and modlin, no works of defence had been constructed. the important places of serock, and zegrz, the former on the narew, and the latter below the confluence of the narew and the bug, were forgotten, as were all the positions on the great road which leads from warsaw to brzese, upon which, or in its vicinity, our principal operations were to be executed. no point on the frontier was strengthened. the country was left entirely open. the diet, considering all these circumstances, resolved to send a deputation to the dictator, to demand of him, for the last time, what his intentions were, and to require of him to take the field forthwith. as the dictator would not submit himself to this expression of the will of the diet, and even opened to prince adam czartoriski, who was one of that deputation, propositions deemed inconsistent with the national honor,--the diet deprived him of his trust. the affairs of the civil administration were confided, as before the dictatorship, to the senate, under the presidency of prince czartoriski, and the command in chief of the army was given to the prince michael radzivil. all these powers were subordinate to the diet. in this manner ended the dictatorship of chlopicki, who afterwards took a place in the suite of prince radzivil, and was admitted into the counsels of the administration of military affairs. footnotes: [footnote : a very important circumstance, which either escaped the notice of the dictator, or was wilfully neglected by him, respected the nomination and rank of officers. as the army was to be considerably augmented, a proportionally greater number of officers was requisite. all arrangements upon this subject were confided to the regimentarz, with whom the important power of making these appointments was entirely left. this course soon led to trouble. the regimentarz, not having the power to transfer the older officers of the existing army, excepting in cases where the offer was made by those officers, were compelled to appoint new officers to newly formed regiments. these newly levied soldiers were thus placed under officers who were but learners themselves. the evil effects of this injudicious system were indeed sensibly felt in the first actions of the campaign. besides the evil here alluded to, a degree of jealousy between the old and new officers resulted from the operation of these arrangements. it was natural for those who were old in service to see with dissatisfaction recently commissioned officers placed above them in rank. instead, then, of studying to preserve the utmost harmony between those who were going forth together to shed their blood in the cause of their common country, that course was in fact taken, which if it had been designed to disturb this harmony, would have been deemed the most efficacious. arrangements for officering the army might have been made in such a manner as the following, to the satisfaction of all parties. after dividing the officers into three classes, the first, consisting of those actually in service, the second of those who had been in service, but had given up their commissions and were in retirement, and the third, of the newly commissioned officers; a military commission might have been formed, who should have before them lists of officers showing their periods of service. this commission could have designated the rank of each upon an examination of these lists, placing the retired officers in the grades in which they stood at the time of their retirement. the new regiments should have been officered from the two first classes, advancement being made in the grade of each officer. the third class, or the new officers, should have been appointed to the vacancies thus left in the old regiments. besides the justice which such an arrangement would have done to the officers of older standing, it would have this good effect: the experienced officers would have been more widely distributed through the army, and the new regiments would have advanced more rapidly in organization and discipline. general skrzynecki clearly saw the defects of the actual arrangement; but once made, it was difficult to reform it. he took, however, every opportunity that offered, to transfer the older officers to advanced grades in the new regiments.] [footnote : _letter to prince lubecki, minister of finance at warsaw, dated st petersburgh, the th of august, ._ 'my prince,--his majesty the emperor and king directs me to inform you that the polish troops being now in marching condition, you are requested to provide the necessary funds, without delay, upon which the public treasury may count as occasion may require, to support the expenses of the movement of the army, and of the approaching campaign.' (signed) 'turkul, _secretary of state_.' in an answer to this letter, dated the third of september, prince lubecki renders an account of the means at his command. 'poland,' he says, 'has , , gilders in its treasury, and , , in the bank of berlin. she is then ready to undertake the necessary preparations.' _extract of a letter addressed to prince lubecki by count grabowski, secretary of state for poland, at st petersburgh._ 'the official correspondence which, by the order of his majesty, i have the honor to communicate to you, my prince, and which directs the placing of the polish army on the war establishment, was, undoubtedly, even more unwelcome to you than to myself. i suffer, truly, in seeing the progress of our financial arrangements thus arrested. our treasury would have been in the most perfect condition, but for the expenses of this war, which will absolutely exhaust its coffers; for on this occasion our geographical position places us in the front line.' 'dated st petersburgh, th october, . (signed) 'grabowski.' from the same to the same. _dated october th, ._ 'having been this day informed by his excellency, the aid-de-camp of his majesty, czerniszew, that orders have been given to his royal highness the cæsarowicz, to place on the war establishment all the troops under his command, without excepting those of the polish kingdom, and that these orders are to be carried into effect by the d of december, i have the honor, my prince, to communicate this information to you, by his majesty's order, so that the necessary funds may be furnished without delay to the minister of war. and i farther request you, my prince, by the order of his majesty, to have the goodness to assign to his imperial highness the cæsarowicz all the funds for which he may have occasion in the execution of his orders. (signed) 'grabowski.' from the same to the same. _dated th november, ._ 'the return of marshal diebitsch will determine what measures it will be necessary to take. he has received orders to pass through warsaw, on his return from berlin, with the view to consult with the grand duke constantine, in an especial manner upon subjects connected with the movement and subsistence of the army. the emperor wishes that you would see the marshal, as soon as possible after his arrival in warsaw, in order to consult with him on all these subjects; and he authorizes you to execute all the arrangements which may be determined upon by marshal diebitsch and the grand duke, without waiting for farther orders from his majesty. you will conform strictly to the wishes of his imperial highness. his majesty, in conclusion, orders me to invite you to repair to st petersburgh as soon as the army shall have commenced its movement and the war shall have been declared, so that you may receive in person the orders of his majesty. we are now in the month of november, the distances are great, our armies cannot be ready before the spring, and events follow each other so rapidly that god only knows what may happen before that time. the rapidity of their succession has made it impossible to receive intelligence of events in season to influence their course. it is this which has caused the unfortunate state of affairs in regard to belgium. and here, again, is opened a train of events, in reference to which it is useless to act, for the next courier may bring us intelligence of an entirely new state of things.'] [footnote : the proclamations of the emperor on the th and th of december were in effect the same. there was a perfect correspondence between them in severity of language and spirit. we will give the last. 'by the grace of god, we, nicholas the first, emperor and autocrat of all the russias, make known to all our faithful subjects that an infamous treason has convulsed the kingdom of poland, which is united to russia. evil-minded men, who had not been disarmed of their bad passions by the beneficence of the immortal emperor alexander, the generous restorer of their country, under the protection of the laws he had given them, have secretly concerted plots for the subversion of the established order of things, and began to execute their projects on the th of november last, by rebellion, effusion of blood, and attempts against the life of our well beloved brother the cæsarowicz grand duke constantine paulowicz. profiting by the obscurity of the night, a furious populace, excited by these men, precipitated themselves upon the palace of the cæsarowicz; while, spreading throughout the city of warsaw the false report that the russian troops were massacring the peaceable inhabitants, they collected the people about them and filled the city with all the horrors of anarchy. the cæsarowicz, with the russians who were about his person, and the polish troops who remained faithful to their duty, determined to take a position in the vicinity of warsaw, and not to act with hostility, in order that, avoiding all occasion of shedding blood, they might prove in the clearest manner the falsehood of the report which had been circulated, and give the authorities of the city time and means of bringing back to their duty, in concert with the well-intentioned citizens, those who had been misled, and to restrain the discontented. this hope was not fulfilled. the council of the city were unable to re-establish order. incessantly menaced by rebels, who had formed some illegal union among themselves, and had gained an influence in the council by separating from it some members named by us, and filling their places with others named by the chiefs of the conspirators, there was no course left to it but to beseech the cæsarowicz to send back the polish troops who had left warsaw with him, to protect the public and private property from new pillage. soon after this council was entirely dissolved, and all its powers were united in the hand of one general. in the interval, the news of the revolt was spread through all the provinces of poland. everywhere the same means were employed. imposture, menaces, falsehood were used to inveigle the pacific inhabitants into the power of the rebels. in this unfortunate and serious state of things, the cæsarowicz considered it indispensable to yield to the request of the government. he permitted the small body of polish troops which remained faithful to him to return to warsaw, in order to insure as far as possible the security of persons and property. he himself quitted the kingdom with the russian troops, and entered on the th december the town of wlodawa, in the government of volhynia. 'thus was executed a crime which had been resolved upon, probably, for a long time before. after so many misfortunes, and when at least in the enjoyment of peace and prosperity under the protection of our power, the people of the kingdom of poland have plunged themselves again into the abyss of revolt and misery, and multitudes of credulous men, though already trembling in fear of the chastisement which awaits them, dare to think, for a moment, of victory; and propose to us the condition of being placed on an equality with ourselves! russians, you know that we reject them with indignation! your hearts burn with zeal for the throne. already you appreciate the sentiments we feel. at the first intelligence of the treason, your response was a new oath of unshaken fidelity, and at this moment we see but one movement in the whole extent of our vast empire. but one sentiment animates all hearts; the desire to spare nothing, to sacrifice all, even life itself, for the honor of the emperor and the integrity of the empire. we witness with deep emotion the strong manifestation of the love of the people for ourselves and for their country. we might, indeed, answer you with tranquillity, that new sacrifices and new efforts will not be necessary. god, the protector of right, is with us, and all-powerful russia will be able, with a decisive blow, to bring to order those who have dared to disturb her tranquillity. our faithful troops, who have so recently distinguished themselves by new victories, are already concentrating upon the western frontier of the empire. we are in readiness to punish the perjured; but we wish to distinguish the innocent from the guilty, and to pardon the weak, who, from inconsiderateness or fear have followed the current. all the subjects of our kingdom of poland, all the inhabitants of warsaw, have not taken part in the conspiracy and its melancholy consequences. many have proved by a glorious death, that they knew their duty. others, as we learn by the report of the grand duke, have been forced, with tears of despair, to return to the places occupied by the rebels. these last, together with the misguided, compose, no doubt, a great part of the army and of the inhabitants of the kingdom of poland. we have addressed ourselves to them by a proclamation on the th of this month, in which, manifesting our just indignation against the perjured men who have commenced this rebellion, we gave orders to put an end to all illegal armaments, and to restore every thing to its former footing. they have yet time, then, to repair the fault of their compatriots, and to save the polish kingdom from the pernicious consequences of a blind criminality. in pointing out the only means of safety, we make known this manifestation of our benevolence toward our faithful subjects. they will see in it our wish to protect the inviolability of the throne and of the country, as well as the firm resolution to spare misguided and penitent men. russians! the example of your emperor will guide you, the example of justice without vengeance, of perseverance in the combat for the honor and prosperity of the empire, without hatred of adversaries, of love and regard for the subjects of our kingdom of poland who have remained faithful to the oath they have made to us, and of an earnest desire for reconciliation with all those who shall return to their duty. you will fulfil our hopes, as you have hitherto done. remain in peace and quietness; full of confidence in god, the constant benefactor of russia, and in a monarch who appreciates the magnitude and the sacredness of his duties, and who knows how to keep inviolable the dignity of his empire, and the honor of the russian people. 'given at st petersburgh the twenty-fourth of the month of december, . (signed) 'nicholas.'] [footnote : the following is part of a conversation, in presence of the emperor, between generals field marshal diebitsch and benkendorf, and colonel wielezynski, (one of the deputies sent by the polish dictator,) at the close of a short interview, which took place at a council on the affairs of state to which those generals had been called by the emperor. 'well, gentlemen of poland,' said marshal diebitsch, 'your revolution has not even the merit of being well timed. you have risen at the moment when the whole force of the empire was on the march toward your frontiers, to bring the revolutionary spirits of france and belgium to order.' when the colonel observed that poland thought herself capable of arresting the torrent long enough to give europe the alarm, and to prepare her for the struggle, marshal diebitsch answered, 'well, what will you gain by the result? we had calculated to make our campaign on the rhine; we shall now make it on the elbe or the oder, having crushed you first. consider this well.'] [footnote : according to the testimony of colonel wielezynski, the proclamation of the emperor was in entire contradiction to the sentiments he expressed in the conversation above mentioned. the tone of that conversation was anything but severe. he even conceded that the poles had just reason to be discontented, and admitted many of the barbarities of his brother, the grand duke constantine. he promised colonel wielezynski that he would act with the strictest justice, and would consider it a duty to inquire scrupulously into, and carefully distinguish all the circumstances of the case, in regard to which a manifesto should shortly be published. as he took leave of the colonel, in presence of diebitsch and benkendorf, he declared that he loved and esteemed the poles, and that these his feelings should be the basis of his course with regard to them. how inconsistent such language with that of the proclamation!] [footnote : some letters of the emperor nicholas were found among the papers of chlopicki, in which the emperor expressed his thanks to him for having taken the dictatorship, and for the service which he had done to him, by the preservation of public tranquillity. the emperor exhorted him to follow 'the conditions which had been prescribed to him.' the conditions here referred to could not be found. the reader will permit me to dwell, for a moment, upon the mode of conduct, on the part of the emperor nicholas, which is here indicated. what conditions could nicholas propose to the dictator, which the nation should not know of? if those conditions were compatible with justice and with the honor of the nation, why was all this secrecy necessary? if they were incompatible with justice and our honor, the dictator certainly could not have it in his power to make the nation accept of them. on the contrary, the nation who had given him its confidence, the moment that it should have been convinced that the dictator had intended to compromise its honor, would have despised him as a traitor, and he would have fallen a sacrifice to its indignation. to wish to induce him, on his own responsibility, to commit acts contrary to the honor of the nation, is to be willing, for selfish ends, to induce him to do that which would render him infamous in history. is this a course becoming a king? a conduct so insincere, machiavelian, and even malignant, is based on the system of intrigue, and is in correspondence with the accustomed policy of the russian cabinet,--a policy which has always brought divisions and misery upon the nations who have been under her power. such a system, however, is far from being ultimately favorable to the interests of russia herself, for it can never lead to a sure result. sooner or later duplicity will be discovered, and the more a nation has been deceived, the deeper will be its determination of vengeance. the letters referred to, which, i believe, are now in the hands of some of our countrymen, will be, in the eyes of the world, a new justification of our revolution.] chapter vi. remarks on the policy of the late dictator.--system of operations adopted.--the army leaves warsaw.--statement of the existing forces.--of the forces proposed to be raised.--unfortunate consequences of the delay in the preparation of the forces.--statement of the force with which the war was actually commenced. the dictatorship had exercised a most unpropitious influence upon our affairs.[ ] every movement had been retarded, and the most invaluable time was lost. instead of offensive operations, the defensive was now necessarily taken. we awaited the enemy on our native soil, and exposed that soil to his insults and outrages. even, however, at this point, the patriots called on the government to take the offensive, but it was too late. an immense russian army was concentrated upon our frontiers, and was ready to pass them. our forces were not strong enough to defend every point against the enemy's entrance. it was decided to keep our troops concentrated, and presenting to him always a narrow and recurvated front, to lead the enemy to the environs of warsaw, and to give him a decisive battle there. on about the th of january, the prince radzivil renewed the orders for the most rapid organization of all the different corps, and directed those corps which were already organized to hold themselves in readiness for marching. a division of lancers which was in the environs of siedlce, augmented by some regiments of newly raised light cavalry, occupied, as a corps of observation, all the country between wlodawa and ciechanowiec, and were ordered to watch every movement of the enemy in that region. on about the th of january, the troops began to leave warsaw and the other towns of the department, and to concentrate themselves upon a line embracing the towns of siedlce, ostrolenka, and lukow.[ ] statement of the existing army, and of the new forces proposed to be levied. the whole polish force under the russian government, consisted, of _infantry_, nine regiments of two battalions each, , men, and a battalion of sappers of , men, in all , ; _cavalry_, nine regiments of four squadrons each; in all, , ; _artillery_, six batteries of eight pieces each, and two batteries of light artillery, also, of eight pieces each; in all, sixty-four pieces. according to the plans of the dictator, the infantry was to be augmented in the following manner. to each of the existing regiments was to be added a battalion of , , making a total of , men. he then proposed to form fifteen new regiments, thus increasing the number of regiments of infantry to twenty-four. each one of the new regiments was to be composed of three battalions of , men each. the total of these new regiments would then have been , men, and the grand total of the new levy would be , men. this body of recruits was to be made up from those of the exempts (their term of service[ ] having expired) who were yet under the age of forty, and from all others under that age, and above that of sixteen. of this force, six thousand men was to be furnished by warsaw, and an equal number by each of the eight palatinates. besides this force, the enrollment of a national guard at warsaw of , men was ordered; and in forming this body, no exemption was admitted except from age or bodily infirmity. each of the eight palatinates was also to enroll a national guard of a thousand men. thus the whole national guard was to consist of , men. the cavalry was to be augmented as follows. from the whole gend'armerie, it was proposed to form a regiment of carabiniers, consisting of two squadrons of two hundred men each. to the nine existing regiments of cavalry it was proposed to add, as a reserve, four squadrons of two hundred each, making, in all, eight hundred. ten new regiments were to be formed, of four squadrons each; so that the whole number of old and new cavalry would be twenty regiments. the whole augmentation of this army would amount to , . the raising of this force, as in the case of the infantry, was to be equally divided between warsaw and each of the eight palatinates. the artillery was to be augmented by four batteries, of eight pieces each, making a total of thirty-two pieces. recapitulation. infantry. cavalry. artillery. new forces, , , pieces. existing forces, , , ------ ------ -- total, , , if we should add to this number the regiments formed by the land proprietors at their own expense, detachments of volunteers, foreigners, and detachments of partizans, amounting perhaps to , , the total might be ------ ------ -- increased to , , this force, although it would seem to be disproportionate to the resources of the kingdom, it was certainly possible to have raised; for the energy and spirit of the people were at the highest point, and every one felt the importance of improving the favorable moment, which the general state of europe, and the weakness of russia, presented. if the reader will anticipate the course of events, and remember what a struggle, against the russian force of more than , men, was sustained by the , only which we actually brought into the field, he may conjecture what advantages might have been expected from twice that number, which we should certainly have brought to the field, had the energy of the government followed out its plans. but from the incapacity of the dictator for the energetic execution of his trust, these forces were never raised, and it was soon seen that chlopicki, by assuming a duty to which he was unequal, gave the first blow to the rising fortunes of his country. the dictator, as we have seen, had not even taken a step towards the organization of these forces, and one would have thought that he had thrown out these plans merely to blind the eyes of the nation, without having entertained the thought of taking the field. two months passed away, the inevitable moment of the conflict arrived, and the nation was obliged to march to the fight with half the force which, under an energetic administration, it would have wielded. if we add to this unfortunate state of things, that, besides the threatening forces of our gigantic enemy, prussia and austria, at this late moment, and especially the former, had began to take an attitude of hostility towards us, and thus all hope of sympathy from her neighbors was lost to poland, the perilous nature of the crisis to which the delay of the dictatorial government had brought us, thus unprepared, may be imagined. but poland did not suffer herself to be discouraged by all these unpropitious circumstances. trusting to the righteousness of her cause, she went forth to the contest, determined to fall or to be free. statement of the forces with which the war was actually commenced. a great exactitude in the computation of these forces would be obviously impracticable, as the precise number of the detachments of volunteers, occasionally joining the army, serving in a particular locality only, and often perhaps for a limited period, cannot be ascertained; but it will not be difficult to make a pretty near approximation to the truth. at the beginning of the campaign, the forces were divided into four divisions of infantry, four of cavalry, and twelve batteries of artillery, of eight pieces each. the whole infantry consisted of: the nine existing regiments, enlarged by one battalion to each regiment, making in all, , one battalion of sappers, , a tenth regiment, of two battalions, called 'the children of warsaw,' , a battalion of volunteers, added to the th regiment, , different detachments of volunteers, as the detachments of michael kuszel, and the kurpie or foresters, &c., , ------ total of infantry, , the four divisions of infantry were nearly equal, consisting of from to , men each. to each of these divisions a corps of sappers was attached. the divisions were commanded as follows; st division by general krukowiecki; d division, general zymirski; d division, general skrzynecki; th division, general szembek. the cavalry consisted of the nine existing regiments, , four squadrons, added to these as a reserve, two squadrons of carabiniers, two regiments of krakus or light cavalry, of podlasia and lublin, , two regiments of mazurs, , six squadrons of kaliszian cavalry, , two squadrons of lancers of zamoyski, ------ total of cavalry, , this cavalry, which was composed of squadrons, was divided into four nearly equal bodies. they were commanded as follows. st division, by general uminski, consisting of squadrons; d division, general stryinski, squadrons; d division, general lubinski, squadrons; th division, making the reserve, under general pac, squadrons. besides those divisions, four squadrons were designated for the corps of general dwernicki. the artillery was divided into batteries of eight pieces each, making in all pieces. the general statement of the forces with which the campaign was commenced is then as follows: _infantry_, , . _cavalry_, , . _artillery_, pieces. this incredibly small number marched to the combat against a russian force of at least , men and cannon. in fact, by the reports of field marshal diebitsch, found after his retreat, and the detailed statements confidently made in the berlin gazette, the russian forces amounted to , ; but we reject one third on the supposition that the regiments had not been entirely completed. if the very thought of commencing a war with such disproportionate means, against so overwhelming a force, should seem to the reader to be little better than madness, he will appreciate the energy and courage with which it was supported, when he learns that in _twenty days_, from the th of february to the d of march, _thirteen_ sanguinary battles were fought with the enemy, besides twice that number of small skirmishes, in which, as we shall see, that enemy was uniformly defeated, and a full third part of his forces annihilated. footnotes: [footnote : the dictatorship may be said to have been the first of our misfortunes. the dictator, acting in contradiction to the spirit of the revolution, did not take advantage of that enthusiasm with which the revolution commenced and by which prodigies might have been achieved. but not only did he neglect to make use of that enthusiasm, or to foster it, he even took measures which had a tendency to repress it. the first fault with which he was reproached by the patriotic club, was his having given permission to the grand duke to leave the kingdom with his corps, taking with them their arms and accoutrements, which were really polish property. the retaining of the grand duke would have been of the greatest importance to us. no historian could have blamed such an act; for if the justice of our revolution be once acknowledged, every energetic and decisive act which would favor its happy result must also be justified in the view of history. the russians indeed have regarded our conduct on this point as an indication of weakness and timidity rather than as an act of delicacy and magnanimity, in which light chlopicki intended that it should be considered. that same corps, attached to the grand duke, consisting, as we have said, of , men and cannon, with the grand duke himself, did not regard it in this light, for they fought against us in the very first battle. another fault of general chlopicki was, not to have taken immediately the offensive, passed the bug, and entered the brother provinces which had been incorporated with russia. the russian troops, especially those in lithuania, were not in a state to resist the first impetuosity of our national forces. the russian soldiers, as the reader probably knows, are not, except in the large cities, concentrated in barracks, as in other states of europe, but are dispersed in quarters throughout the country, in small bodies; so that sometimes a single regiment may be spread to a circumference which may embrace eighty to a hundred villages, with perhaps from ten to thirty soldiers only, in each. in fact, the soldiers of a company may have often from six to twelve miles march to reach the quarters of their captain. all this made the concentration of these forces an affair of time and difficulty; and one regiment after another could have been fallen upon, and their whole forces annihilated in detail, and that without much effusion of blood. besides this, the russian corps of lithuania was composed, in part, of our brethren enrolled in that province, and even commanded, in part, by officers natives of that province. they would of course have united themselves with us, and the revolution would have spread, with the rapidity of lightning, to the very borders of the dwina and the dnieper; and after this, not four millions alone, but sixteen millions of poles, would have been united in one cause. at a later period, all this was no longer possible. russia began to become alive to the danger of the occurrence of such a state of things, and all the regiments with polish soldiers in their ranks were withdrawn into the interior, and three hundred polish officers in the russian service were sent to take commands in regiments posted in the regions about the caucasus, in asia. the dictator, who gave as a reason for not having taken the above course, that the neighboring cabinets would have taken umbrage at it as a violation of a foreign territory, can with difficulty be conceived to have really felt that this would have been the case. even if such apprehensions were well founded, are diplomatic formalities to be regarded, on an occasion like this? should we, in such a cause, forbear, from apprehensions of this kind, to press on to the delivery of our brethren from the despotism under which they were suffering? but, in fact, the true interests of those cabinets were to be found in, what every sagacious observer of european history has pointed out as the great safeguard of europe, the establishment of the polish kingdom as a barrier against the threatening preponderance of our barbarous enemy. it was indeed ridiculous to require of the poles that they should regard, as their only limits, the little kingdom into which the violence and fraud of the combined sovereigns had contracted them. the poles, in entering those provinces, would have been still on the soil of their ancient country; and, in fact, the revolution was equally justifiable at wilna, kiow, and smolensk, as at warsaw. the patriots, indeed, who began the latter, did not think of their own sufferings alone, they bore in mind also the even greater sufferings of their brethren who were more absolutely in the power of despotism. it was indeed the great end of the patriots and of the nation, the union of all the provinces of ancient poland, which was abandoned by the dictator. nothing else, in fact, but the forcing of the frontiers, would have subdued the arrogance of the emperor, and forced him to listen to our claims. the unanimous voice of sixteen millions of poles could not have safely been despised. this compulsory amelioration of our condition would have also spared nicholas the remorse with which he must reflect on the sacrifice of nearly , lives, and the death or suffering to which he has condemned, and is still condemning, the best spirits of poland.] [footnote : i cannot forbear to dwell for a moment upon the occasion of the departure of our troops from warsaw and the other towns. it was one of the fine and touching moments of our revolution. every friend of liberty would have desired to have brought together all the autocrats of the world to witness the animation with which our national troops went forth to engage in the combat for liberty. perhaps they would have been involuntarily struck with the conviction that this liberty must be a blessing when men will sacrifice themselves so cheerfully to achieve it. when the march was commenced, all the inhabitants of the neighboring country left their homes to witness the departure, and all the plains about warsaw and the road sides between warsaw and siedlce were covered with people. the soldiers, in marching through the streets of the city, passed between lines of people composed of senators, officers of the government, the clergy, children from the schools, the members of the national guard, and in short an immense assembly of both sexes, reaching even to two miles beyond praga. all the regiments passed in review before the general in chief, and each regiment took the oath to defend their country to the last drop of their blood. exclamations such as these were constantly uttered: 'dear general, if you see us turn from before the enemy, point the artillery against us, and annihilate our ranks.' the fourth regiment, the bravest of the brave, knowing that our magazines were ill provided with powder, refused at first to receive any cartridges; but on the remonstrance of the chief, they agreed to take thirty each man, (half of the complement for one battle,) saying that they would furnish themselves afterwards from the russians. they then entreated the commander in chief never to send them against a smaller body of the enemy than a division, and to use them wherever a decisive blow was required. 'forget, dear general,' said they, 'that we have no powder; but trust to our bayonets!' it was truly affecting to witness the parting of the soldiers from their friends and relatives,--fathers taking leave of children, children of fathers, husbands of wives,--and to hear the cries of sorrow mingled with animating shouts and patriotic hymns. these are moments of which i am unequal to the description; but which every freeman will form a conception of,--moments of the struggle between domestic happiness and public duty; moments which show that the love of country is the most powerful of all sentiments, and that men will sacrifice every thing under its impulses.] [footnote : a service of ten years in the army, in person, or by substitute, was required by law of every citizen.] chapter vii. entrance of the russian forces into the kingdom.--proclamations of marshal diebitsch.--their effect.--disposition of the russian and polish forces.--plan of operations of the poles. the russian forces, simultaneously with the polish, began to concentrate themselves on the frontiers of the kingdom, (_see plan no. _) particularly at bialystok ( ) and grodno ( ). four general points were designated for the entrance of this enormous force, viz. zlotoria ( ), ciechanowiec ( ), brzesc ( ), and wlodawa ( ). marshal diebitsch, on entering the kingdom, published a proclamation to the poles, a copy of which is given in the note.[ ] [illustration: _i_] those proclamations were published in the latter part of january. the people were disgusted with their promises and their menaces, and rejecting all idea of reconciliation on such terms as these proclamations set forth, they entreated to be led to the struggle in which they had once decided to engage, preferring every sacrifice to so degrading a submission. they demanded that an answer should be sent to diebitsch, informing him that they were ready to meet him, and called upon the government to commence hostilities without a moment's delay.[ ] the russian forces, [_see plan no. _, (_a_)] consisting, as we have already mentioned, of about , men and pieces of cannon, had, on about the th of february, passed the polish frontier at the four general points above named ( , , , ). their different commanders, besides the marshal diebitsch, were, the grand duke constantine, generals rosen, pablen, geismer, kreutz, prince wirtemberg, and witt. the chief d'etat major was general toll, the most skilful of the russian generals. the space designated for the entrance of the different detachments of the russian corps embraced an extent of ninety-six english miles. this space was almost wholly occupied by either small or large detachments. general diebitsch, meaning to attack our centre at siedlce with a part of his army, intended to outflank us with the rest, and to march directly upon warsaw, and thus, following the plan of napoleon in the campaign of prussia, in , at jena and auerstacdt, to cripple our front, and to put an end to the war in a moment. the plans of this renowned commander were well understood by our general officers, and to resist them, it was determined to contract our forces (_b_) into a line of operations, narrow, but concentrated and strong; a course which our inferiority of force seemed to require. this line was posted as follows. our left wing, consisting of the fourth division of general szembek and a division of cavalry under general uminski, was in the environs of pultusk ( ). this wing sent its reconnoissances towards ostrolenka ( ). in the environs of the town of jadow ( ) was the division of general krukowiecki; and in the environs of wengrow ( ), the division of general skrzynecki, with the division of cavalry commanded by general lubinski. the centre of our position was about half way between the two latter places. our right wing was at siedlce ( ), and was composed of the nd division of infantry under general zymirski, and the nd division of cavalry under general stryinski. to cover the right wing, a small corps under the command of general dwernicki was posted at seroczyn ( ). that corps consisted of , infantry, horse, and three pieces of cannon. different patrols of cavalry were employed in observing the enemy along the whole space between sokolow, miendzyrzec, and parczewo. the rivers narew (n), bug (b), and liewiec (l), covered the whole line of our operations, and made it sufficiently strong. our centre, especially, was well posted between jadow ( ), wengrow ( ), and siedlce ( ). it was protected by the great marshes formed by the river lieviec (l). excepting in a few points, which were well fortified, these marshes were wholly impassable. it is to be regretted that this position was not made still stronger by more ample fortifications. besides making the passage of this point cost a more severe loss to the enemy, such fortifications would have enabled us to spare one whole division for other purposes. fortifications of positions should always be the more freely combined with tactics, in proportion to the inferiority of a force. in the above mentioned position we were to await the first shock of the enemy, after which the army was to retire slowly towards the environs of praga, and in such a manner that each corps should always be on the parallel with the rest. in this retreat each corps was required to profit by every opportunity, to cause the utmost loss to the enemy, and to harass him as much as possible. by a retreat of this nature, it was intended to draw the enemy on to the walls of warsaw, and, having weakened him during such a retreat, to give him a decisive battle there. footnotes: [footnote : _proclamation of the field marshal count diebitsch zabalkansky to the poles._ poles! his majesty the emperor and king, our august sovereign, has confided to me the command of the troops destined to put an end to the deplorable disorders which afflict the kingdom of poland. the proclamation of his majesty the emperor and king has already apprised you that the emperor has wished, in his generosity, to distinguish his faithful subjects who have respected their oaths, from the guilty instigators of disorder who have sacrificed to their odious ambition the interests of a happy and peaceful community. nay, more, he wishes to extend his benevolence and his clemency to the unfortunate persons who through weakness or fear have lent themselves as the accomplices of a deplorable enterprize. poles! hear the voice of your sovereign and your father, the successor of the august restorer of your country, who like him has always desired your happiness. even the guilty will experience the effects of his magnanimity, if they will trust to it with confidence. those only who have dipped their hands in blood, and those who still more guilty perhaps, have excited others to do this, will meet the just punishment to which the law condemns them. . at the moment of entering with the troops which i command into the kingdom of poland, i wish to convince you of the principles which will guide all my steps. a faithful soldier, and a conscientious executor of the orders of my sovereign, i will never depart from them. the peaceful inhabitants who shall receive us as friends and brothers, will find their friendly dispositions reciprocated by the troops placed under my orders. the soldiers will pay a fair price for every thing which shall be furnished to them, and if circumstances require that the troops shall be provisioned by the inhabitants, or if we shall be forced to make requisitions (which we shall endeavor to avoid as far as possible,) in such cases the inhabitants will receive payment in printed certificates, which will be taken as money at the offices for the payment of imposts. prices will be established for the provisions furnished according to the current value of the articles in the different districts. . on the approach of the russian troops, the inhabitants of the towns and villages, who have taken arms in obedience to the orders of the government which has been illegally instituted, will be required to surrender their arms to the local authorities, if those latter shall have returned to their duties. in other cases, they will be required to give up their arms upon the entrance of the troops of his majesty the emperor and king. . every inhabitant, who, forgetting the duties which he owes to his sovereign, shall persevere in the revolt, and shall be taken with arms in his hands, will have to meet the utmost rigor of the law. those who shall attempt to defend themselves against the troops, shall be delivered over to a council of war. the towns and villages who shall dare to resist his majesty the emperor and king, will be punished according to the degree their resistance shall have been carried, by an extraordinary contribution, more or less heavy. this contribution will be principally levied upon those who shall have taken part in a criminal defence, either by carrying arms themselves, or by exciting others to that crime. in case of relapse from a return to duty, and of rebellion in the rear of the russian army, the insurgent places shall be treated with the utmost military rigor. the principal instigators shall be punished with death, and the others exiled; but the greatest care will be taken to distinguish and protect those who shall have had no part in the crime. . to prevent such evils, i invite all the authorities, civil as well as military, who may be in the towns and cities, to send deputies to the commanders of the russian forces, when these forces shall arrive. such deputations will bring with them as a sign of submission to their legitimate sovereign, a white flag. they will be expected to announce that the inhabitants submit themselves to the benevolence of his majesty the emperor and king, and that their arms have been deposited in some place which shall be designated. the russian commanders will then take the necessary measures of security. they will maintain the civil authorities, which existed before the revolt, as well as those which shall have been instituted afterwards, if they have taken no active part in the rebellion. the sedentary guard of veterans will be continued, if they have not engaged in the resistance, or given manifest proofs of treason towards their legitimate sovereign. all those authorities, civil as well as military, will be required to renew their oaths of fidelity. conformably to the orders of his majesty the emperor and king, an amnesty and pardon for the past will be given to all of those who shall submit without delay, and shall comply with the conditions which have been above mentioned. . the russian commanders shall organize, as circumstances may require, in the places where no russian garrisons may remain, a civil and municipal guard, who shall be chosen from among the most faithful of the veterans, and the inhabitants shall be entrusted with the interior police, as far as may be necessary to secure order and tranquillity. . the organization of the administration of the palatinates, arrondissements, and communes, will remain upon the footing on which it was before the insurrection. it will be the same with all the direct and indirect taxes. the authorities will remain in their places after they shall have complied with the above conditions. in other cases, new authorities will be established by the choice of the commanders of the russian forces. that choice will fall principally upon the individuals who may unite, with the necessary capacity, an established moral character, and who shall have given proofs of their fidelity to their legitimate sovereign. all those will be excluded who shall have taken any part whatever in the rebellion, as well as those who after the entrance of the russian troops into the kingdom shall persist in an organized opposition against legal order. the proprietors of land and houses who may remain tranquil in their habitations, and shall submit to the conditions above announced, will be protected in their rights, as well by the local authorities as by the russian troops. in other cases, the property of all those who shall remain in the revolutionary ranks will be sequestered, as well as that of those who shall have continued to exercise the functions entrusted to them by the illegal government, or in some who shall have openly taken part in the revolt. such are, poles, the principles which will direct the army which his majesty has deigned to confide to my command. you have to choose between the benefits which an unqualified submission to the will of our magnanimous sovereign assures to you, and the evils which will be brought upon you by a state of things without object as well as without hope. i hold it an honor to have been called upon to make known to you these resolutions, emanating from the generous intentions of the emperor and king. i shall execute them scrupulously, but i shall not fail to punish criminal obstinacy with inflexible severity. (signed) the marshal count diebitsch zabalkansky. _proclamation of the count diebitsch zabalkansky to the polish troops._ generous poles! twenty-five years since, your country was implicated in the wars which the gigantic plans of a celebrated conqueror had kindled. the hope, often awakened, and always disappointed, of an illusory regeneration, had connected you with his fortunes. faithful, although unfortunate, you answered those deceptive promises by the sacrifice of your blood. there is scarce a country, however distant it may have been, that has not been wet with that blood which you have prodigally shed for interests altogether foreign to the destiny of your country. great events brought at last, at a remarkable epoch, an end to your misfortunes. after a contest, forever memorable, in which russia saw you among the number of her enemies, the emperor alexander, of immortal memory, obeying only the impulse of his magnanimous heart, wished to add to all his other titles to glory, that of being the restorer of your country. poland recovered her name, and the polish army a new life. all the elements of national welfare, of tranquillity, and of prosperity, were miraculously united, and fifteen years of uninterrupted progress prove, to this day, the greatness of the benefits for which your country is indebted to the paternal solicitude of the sovereign who was its restorer, and to the no less earnest concern of him who has so nobly continued the work of his predecessor. polish warriors! his majesty the emperor and king has trusted to your gratitude and your fidelity. a short time since he gladly did justice to your devotedness and your good will. the exemplary conduct of all the polish officers, without exception, who partook with our armies the fatigues and the glory of the turkish war, had given a high satisfaction to his majesty. we accepted with pleasure this fraternity of arms which became a new bond between the russian and polish troops. the best hope of reciprocal advantages should connect with that union, which was founded upon all that is sacred in military honor. those hopes have been cruelly deceived. a handful of young men, who have never known the dangers of battle, of young officers who had never passed through a campaign or even a march, have shaken the fidelity of the brave. the latter have seen committed in their ranks the greatest of crimes, the murder of their commanders; they have not arrested the revolt against their legitimate sovereign. what unhappy blindness, what criminal condescension has been able to induce these veterans to permit the consummation of the greatest of offences, and to join themselves with those whose hands were stained with blood! can it be possible that the design of rendering a service to their country has been made for a moment a pretext for such conduct? that country can answer that for a long period she had never enjoyed so much happiness. she had attained much, and she could still hope much from her fidelity, and the support of public order. she exposes herself to the loss of all these advantages by engaging in an unequal struggle, in revolting against a sovereign whose firm and energetic character is well known, and in braving a power which has never been defied with impunity. polish warriors! rebellion would stamp upon your front the stain of dishonor. put away from you such an ignominy. history will one day relate, that, in the hope of serving your country, you have been faithful and devoted to the man who promised you every thing, and kept his promise in nothing. shall it also say that, paying with ingratitude and perjury, the sovereign who has generously granted you every thing which you had any right to hope for, you have drawn down upon your country new misfortunes, and upon yourselves an indelible disgrace? if some grievances existed, you should have had confidence enough in the character of our august sovereign to have laid before him your complaints, in a legal manner, and with that frankness which characterizes the true soldier. and i too, poles, i speak the sincere language of a soldier; i have never known any other. obedient to the orders of my sovereign, i reiterate, by his wishes, all the propositions which, in his clemency, he has already made to you by his proclamation of the th of december. our august sovereign has witnessed, with marked satisfaction, the fidelity of the brave light-cavalry of the guard, of the greater part of the grenadiers of the guard, and of the sub-officers of the cavalry. he does not doubt that the greater part of the troops cherished the desire to remain faithful to their oaths, and that many others were hurried away only by the impulse of the moment. let each one hasten to execute the orders which are contained in the proclamation of his majesty. but if unforeseen circumstances do not permit you to follow the course which has been pointed out to you; at least, on the approach of the faithful armies of our common sovereign, remember your duties and your oaths. it is not as enemies that the troops placed under my command enter the kingdom of poland. it is on the contrary with the noble object of re-establishing public order and the laws. they will receive as brothers all persons, either in civil or military life, who shall return to their duties; but they will know how to subdue, with the constancy and courage which they have ever manifested, the resistance which evil-minded men may attempt to oppose to them,--men who, trampling under foot the sacredness of their oaths and the laws of honor, sacrifice to their ambitious and even criminal projects the dearest interests of their country. it is to you especially, generals and colonels of the polish army, that i address myself with confidence; to you, whom i have been accustomed to regard as my worthy brothers in arms. return from the momentary error to which you have been capable of surrendering yourselves, that you may, in joining the rebellious, bring them back to their duties, and serve your country without violating your oaths. experience will have disabused you of your error: return to the path of fidelity, and you will by that restore the happiness of your country. you know the clemency of our august sovereign: return to him. weigh well the immense responsibility which you will take upon your heads by a criminal obstinacy. join yourselves to your brothers in arms. show that you are still worthy to be the commanders of the troops which your sovereign has entrusted to you. you will be received as brothers. an amnesty of the past is assured to you. the troops which i command will fulfil with loyalty the intentions of our sovereign, and the gratitude of your country, restored to tranquillity, will be a delightful reward for your return to your duty. but if there are found among you men hardened in crime, who cannot be persuaded to trust in magnanimity, because they know not the elevated sentiments in which it has its origin, let all the bonds of military fraternity between you and them be broken; the all-powerful hand of god, the protector of the good cause, will bring down upon their heads the punishment due to their crimes. (signed) the marshal diebitsch zabalkansky.] [footnote : to the proclamations of general diebitsch, one of our countrymen made a reply, in the form of a letter, which was published in the gazettes, and which, as far as my memory serves me, was in nearly the following terms: 'general, your proclamations, which breathe the spirit of injustice, arrogance, and cruelty--the menacing tone of which is backed by the colossal force you have led to the invasion of our territory, and which you are to wield as an instrument for establishing a new tyranny and inflicting new sufferings upon a country of freemen,--these proclamations, general, prove that the favorable opinion which europe entertained of you was ill-grounded, and that you too, like the rest, are willing to lend yourself an easy and vile instrument in the hands of the oppressor. diebitsch! can it be you who so recently passed the balkan, to deliver a nation from the yoke of barbarism,--an action which gained for you so great a name in history? 'do you remember the proclamations which you published on that occasion, how different from these, filled with noble thoughts, and in which you felicitated yourself on being placed in command of an army destined to deliver the unfortunate greek nation from the barbarism which was oppressing it. what a contrast! there you went to deliver the unfortunate; here you come to increase the sufferings of a nation which has for fifteen years been oppressed in a manner which was well known to you, and which it is horrible to think of. general, have you forgotten how you were received at warsaw, after your return from the campaign of turkey? have you lost the recollection of those looks of welcome and of joy at the sight of the man who had effected the deliverance of an unfortunate and oppressed nation? you were then touched, for the sentiments of the polish nation were in harmony with those which you yourself then entertained. all those recollections you have turned away from. dazzled by false ideas of greatness, arrogance has driven from your heart those noble sentiments which would have made you truly great. diebitsch! poland once had confidence in you. many poles had hoped that you would act as a mediator between your monarch and us. no one could be in a more favorable situation than yourself to set before that monarch the nature of our sufferings, and the claims which we had upon his justice. you would have been in a situation to persuade him that the time had come to aid the cause of civilization, and to promote his own happiness, by conceding to a nation those rights which are essential to its happiness and prosperity. poland had such expectations of you. you alone, who are so near the person of the monarch, and to whom his character is so intimately known, you could have done this. such conduct would have added indeed to the glory you had already acquired. who then would have equalled you? but, for your misfortune, you have chosen another course, and by acting as a servile instrument of tyranny you have tarnished all your former glory. know then, diebitsch, that the poles despise you. spare both your promises and your menaces; for with neither will you effect anything. they long for the approach of your colossal masses, that they may give you an example of what freemen can do.'] chapter viii. the opening fire.--affairs of the th and th february.--combat of stoczek.--disposition in consequence of that battle.--battle of boimie.--retrograde movement to dobre.--combat of makowiec.--passage of the orsyca.--combat of dobre. attack on the right wing at minsk. the tenth of february, , was the first day, after an interval of fifteen years, of the encounter between the russian and polish arms. mendzyrzec ( ) was the place in which the first fire was given; and the little skirmish which took place there was of good presage. on the morning of that day, two regiments of cossacks showed themselves upon the plain before the town, on which were posted two regiments of krakus, or light cavalry, and the th regiment of lancers, as an advanced guard. our cavalry were impatient to engage with the enemy, and begged of their commander to be allowed to attack him. when it was seen that this body of the enemy was detached from his larger force, permission was given to one of the two new regiments of light cavalry, supported by a squadron of the old cavalry as a reserve, to throw themselves upon the enemy. in a moment our cavalry were among the ranks of the cossacks. both of the enemy's regiments were dispersed, and one squadron with six officers were taken prisoners. the enemy was not pursued, our troops being satisfied with this successful attack, and with having excited the first consternation in the enemy's ranks. after this skirmish, our cavalry, in obedience to previous instructions, retired to the environs of siedlce ( ). in this town was a little garrison consisting of a regiment of light infantry and a detachment of riflemen, formed and commanded by michael kuszel. on the th, at about mid-day, the whole of the advanced guard of the russian centre, which was commanded by diebitsch in person, reached the environs of siedlce ( ), and took position there. before the night set in, other russian columns began to place themselves upon the same plain. their advanced guard then recommenced the march, throwing their tirailleurs forward, who began a warm fire, which was answered by our own light troops, who were placed in the faubourgs and the sides of the town. the brave detachment of kuszel's riflemen, who were finely trained and equipped, caused a great loss to the enemy. the russian artillery, to protect their tirailleurs and the columns of infantry which followed them, commenced a heavy fire upon the faubourgs occupied by our infantry. this fire of the russian artillery was ineffectual; but our own fire, as the russians were exposed in an open plain, was very destructive. the action continued until dark, when our infantry began to evacuate the town, and marched to rejoin the divisionary camp, which was about a mile in the rear. [illustration: _ii steizel._ ] at o'clock, general zymirski, supposing that the enemy had taken possession of the town, determined to make an attack, with two regiments, upon the town and the russian camp, at the point of the bayonet. the th regiment of the line and the th regiment of light infantry, which were designated for this object, fell with impetuosity upon the enemy, whom they found in an wholly unprepared state. a few hundred prisoners were the fruits of this attack, after which our forces evacuated the town. these little advantages gained in those two days, retarded the advance of the enemy. he remained inactive on the th and th. on the th, the russian corps under the command of general kreutz, composed of , men and pieces of cannon, attacked the small corps of observation on our right, under the command of general dwernicki. combat of stoczek. [_see plan_ ii.] general dwernicki, although aware of the vast superiority of the enemy's force, yet, trusting in the strength of his own position, determined to meet his attack, and give him battle. the position of stoczek (_a_) was strong in several respects; first, from its commanding elevation; secondly, from the circumstance that the town is protected by the river swider (_b_), which forms marshes that are not passable but by a dyke (_m_) at a short distance from the city, in the direction in which the russian army was approaching. that dyke was defended by the whole artillery of our corps, consisting of three pieces (_e_); and the declivity descending toward the dyke was occupied by two companies of light troops dispersed in favorable positions as sharp-shooters, and in such a manner as to act on the dyke. general dwernicki divided his forces into the smallest possible bodies, to give an appearance of extent to his line, and thus mask his inferiority of force. leaving a battalion of infantry (_d_) to protect the artillery and prevent the passage of the dyke,--which passage, he was sure that the enemy could not possibly execute rapidly, and that this small force was sufficient, if not to prevent at least to retard it,--he took the two battalions (_d_) which made the remainder of his force, and throwing them upon the right bank (a) of this river, in the forest, where an easier and safer passage was open to the enemy, he there awaited the enemy's movements. the first step of the russians (_g_, _h_) was to place all their artillery (_f_) at the nearest possible point to our position, and to commence a warm fire upon the town. under this fire they thought to effect the passage of the dyke. general dwernicki ordered his artillery not to fire, until the russian columns should make their appearance on the dyke, and then to open a fire of grape upon them. in this manner some hours passed, during which the russian artillery kept up an ineffectual fire, and the russian corps executed various manoeuvres in attempting to force the passage of the dyke, and in pushing their attack in the direction of the forest. general kreutz, seeing that his attempts to force the dyke were attended with severe loss, and thinking that in the other direction, the passage would be much more easy, decided on a general attack in that quarter. he divided his corps, leaving one part before the dyke, and with the remainder advanced to the attack of our right (a). strong columns of russian infantry and cavalry marched against it. as soon as this manoeuvre was observed by dwernicki, the idea was conceived by him of preventing the attack, by throwing himself with the utmost impetuosity upon the enemy before he had taken a position, and while on the march. he renewed his orders to defend with the utmost firmness the passage of the dyke; and, taking all the cavalry with him, he passed over towards the forest; and, with the united force of this cavalry and the infantry who were concealed in the forest, he threw himself upon the russian artillery, and the cavalry which was protecting it. in a moment both artillery and cavalry were completely overthrown and dispersed, and seven pieces of cannon remained in our hands. the disorder communicated itself to the columns which were on the march, who thought no longer of following up their attack, but retreated as fast as possible, and in fact a general and disorderly retreat commenced. the ruin of their left wing caused a consternation in the forces composing their right, who, not knowing what had happened, ceased their fire, quitted their position, and joined in the general retreat. besides the killed and wounded, more than , prisoners, with twenty officers, were taken, together with a great quantity of ammunition, baggage, &c., among which were several voitures containing the chapels of the camp.[ ] the enemy was followed a short distance only, as the inferiority of our force would not of course admit of an extended pursuit, and it was an important object also with general dwernicki not to permit the enemy to discover that inferiority. he contented himself therefore with having destroyed nearly a third part of the enemy's corps, and with having thrown his whole force into the greatest consternation. this brilliant affair was the commencement of the remarkable career of general dwernicki; and it was a propitious opening for our campaign. general dwernicki resumed his former position at stoczek, where he awaited the orders which the commander in chief might issue on receiving the report of what had taken place. to make this position more strong, he ordered a barricade of trees to be made at the termination of the dyke and at the other points where the approach was easy, and, in order to keep a close observation upon the enemy, he sent patrols in the direction of kock and zelechow. while thus occupied, he received orders to leave his position immediately by a rapid march in the direction of zelechow and macieiowice, then to pass the vistula and meet the russian corps under the command of the prince wirtemburg, who, after having crossed that river at pulawa, had made a demonstration on its left bank, and was approaching warsaw. on receiving these orders, general dwernicki left stoczek on the same night. in consequence of the enemy's attack upon dwernicki's corps, which covered our right wing, that wing was inclined and withdrawn towards kaluszyn, in order not to be exposed to the enemy's demonstrations upon its flank or rear. the town of minsk was also occupied by a detachment. on the th the russians made a simultaneous attack on wengrow and kaluszyn. but the principal attack was intended to be directed against kaluszyn, or rather the village of boimie adjoining it. at wengrow the attack was masked. by a strong attack upon our right wing, the enemy had the design of gaining the great road to warsaw, a plan which it was of the utmost importance for us to defeat; for, if he should have succeeded in forcing our right wing, he would have cut off our communications with the corps of general skrzynecki, and krukowiecki, which were in a more advanced position. our generals saw the necessity of the most determined defence of the position, and general zymirski resolved to resist to the last extremity. battle of boimie. (_see plan_ iii.) the battle of boimie consisted of a persevering effort on the part of the enemy to force the passage of a dyke (_k_), under the protection of the fire of a strong battery of artillery (_e_). on our side, every effort was directed to the making of the passage of that dyke as destructive as possible to the enemy. for this object our arrangements were made as follows. on the night of the th, we destroyed the bridges (_m_) over the small river of kostrzyn, which traverses the dyke or main road in two places. not far from the nearest bridge, a defence of branches of trees (_n_) was thrown together, which having been well placed, made a good cover for our marksmen, and for a battalion of infantry (_o_), which were concealed behind them. the fire of grape from the enemy's artillery was rendered ineffective to a great degree by this mass of trees. upon the nearest elevations of ground (b), general zymirski placed eighteen pieces of cannon (_a_), the fire of which was concentrated upon the dyke. by this means every attempt of the enemy to re-construct the bridge was made to cost him a severe loss, and was rendered ineffectual. the main body of our forces was placed without the reach of the enemy's artillery. on the left of our position, at the distance of about half a mile, a small road (_p_) led to dobre, and that road was intersected by the small river above mentioned. the bridge which continued the road over this river was destroyed by us, and a small detachment placed there to prevent its reconstruction and its passage by the enemy. [illustration: _boimie_ iii] such was the distribution of the small force which, profiting by the strength of its position, was able to meet the attacks of the numerous body of the enemy commanded by marshal diebitsch in person, and which were renewed during the whole day. the details of the action are as follows:--at about o'clock on the morning of the th, the russian force commenced debouching from the forests which border the main road, between mingosy and boimie, and deploying to the right and left, took position. in a short time the field was covered with the enemy's masses. his force consisted of twelve regiments of infantry (_f_), six of cavalry (_g_), and sixty pieces of cannon. it was at about noon that the enemy placed his artillery upon the heights (a) above the bridge and commenced his fire. after continuing for some time this fire, which was but occasionally answered by our artillery, the enemy sent several battalions in column, upon the bridge, a part of which force engaged in the repair of the bridge, and the rest attempted to make the passage. every approach of the enemy was met with a warm fire from behind the defence of trees above mentioned, and our artillery at the same time opened a destructive fire of grape upon the bridge. the attempts of the enemy were renewed for some hours, in vain. finding the impossibility of forcing this passage, he directed his efforts to that on his right (d), and sent a cloud of light infantry and cavalry to attempt to pass the marshes, and ford the stream. but this passage was equally impossible, and several russian regiments, who were engaged in the attempt, exposed themselves to a severe fire of platoons from our troops, and several staff officers of the enemy were killed at the head of those regiments. in these renewed and bloody attempts, the day passed away, and as the night approached, our troops quietly evacuated their position, and took another a few miles in the rear. as to the affair at wengrow, it was only an engagement with the rear guard of the corps of general skrzynecki. that general, knowing his position to be too far advanced, decided to retire as far as the environs of dobre. this retreat was so orderly that it seemed rather an evolution than a retreat. all the movements were executed with perfect coolness, and the alternate retreat and fire of the different battalions, the displaying and closing of the columns, the change of front, &c, were executed with such precision that it impressed the enemy with a certain degree of respect, and though three times superior in force he did not attempt to push his attack. in this manner the corps arrived at the village of makowiec, where it took position. on the next day, with the exception of a few light skirmishes between the outposts, nothing of importance took place. the right wing received on that day the order to fall back as far as minsk, some miles in the rear of their former position. on the evening of that day the line of operation of our army was as follows:--our left wing was at zegrz, the centre in the environs of dobre, and the right wing at minsk. on the th, the enemy attacked our centre at dobre and our right at minsk. it was a day of great bloodshed along our whole line, but, like the preceding, highly honorable to our arms. battle of makowiec and dobre. (_see plan_ iv.) this battle is generally known by the name of the battle of dobre; but as it was fought in two different positions, and with two different plans of operation, i have given the name of the two general positions, in speaking of the battle. general skrzynecki was, as we have already remarked, in a position too far in advance of our right wing; and as the enemy on that day had attacked, as we have also stated, the right wing and the centre simultaneously, and could have made, as will be seen by the plan, a demonstration on stanislawow, and thus have acted on the rear of skrzynecki, which was nearest to him, that general had two objects to effect. first to make the attack of the enemy as costly to him as possible, and next to arrange his retrograde movement in such a manner as to be able to reach stanislawow by night. both of these designs were exceedingly well executed. upon each of his positions he was master of his own movements, and quitted them at his own time. this affair of the th of february was the occasion of the first development of the remarkable talents of this commander. it was then that he first awakened the high expectations and gained the confidence of the nation, which soon after committed to him the trust so honorably and faithfully executed by him. in regard to the first position at makowiec, the reader will observe, on examining the plan, that the polish forces were principally engaged in defending a triangular space embraced between the two roads (_f_) which lead from wengrow and kaluszyn and meet behind makowiec (_h_). this space, over which small elevations covered with brush-wood were scattered, afforded good positions for artillery as well as infantry: but the principal advantage of this peculiarity of the ground was, that it concealed the inferiority of our forces. in this position, the village of makowiec was made a _point d'appui_ upon our left wing, and it was defended by five companies (_d_), under the command of colonel dombrowski. six pieces of artillery (_e_) placed in the rear of this village, reached with their fire the village and the plain in front of it. the russian position was an open plain. [illustration: _iv makowiec ._ ] [illustration: v. _dobre p. ._ ] the enemy commenced by an attack upon the two roads from wengrow and kaluszyn; and as the attack was met with a strong resistance, he began to deploy upon the plain between the two roads, and to take order of battle. nearly , russians, with fifty or sixty pieces of cannon (_c_), in a short time were seen upon that plain, and commenced a terrible fire of artillery and musquetry along their whole line, directed principally against the village and the wooded ground. several battalions (_a_), in column, attempted an attack upon these points. those attacks were witnessed by colonels dombrowski and boguslawski with perfect indifference. they even ordered our artillery not to fire. our tirailleurs, and all the infantry in that position, formed themselves into detached columns (_k_) of half battalions, and the russian columns approached. our artillery then commenced a fire of grape, and this fire was a signal for our columns, with the brave colonels boguslawski and dombrowski at their head, to leave their cover and to throw themselves upon the enemy. the th regiment immortalized itself in that attack. one of its columns threw itself upon three of the enemy,--the fire ceased, and a terrible carnage at the point of the bayonet commenced. the enemy repeatedly renewed his attacking force, but he found it impossible to move our position. at about mid-day, having suffered so much from loss and exhaustion, he discontinued the attack. general skrzynecki, profiting by the cessation of the enemy's fire, took the opportunity to pass the liwiec, and ordered a light fire of tirailleurs to be kept up, under cover of which his columns commenced executing the passage. when the greater part of the corps had passed, the tirailleurs began to make a retrograde movement, and were undisturbed by the enemy. six squadrons of cavalry (_e_), left as a rear guard, protected the passage of the river by the light troops. in this manner the position was slowly evacuated, the bridge destroyed, and by about two o'clock the whole corps were on the march for dobre. the six squadrons abovenamed, to which were added nine pieces of light artillery (_m_), prevented for a long while the reconstruction of the bridge by the enemy, and did not quit their position until the corps was at a safe distance, after which they followed rapidly and overtook the corps at about four o'clock, and with it took position in order of battle near dobre. battle of dobre. [_see plan_ v.] the position of dobre was more advantageous for us than the former. it was protected in front by two ponds of considerable size, which lost themselves at their extremities in marshy ground. the only passage which led between those two ponds was easy of defence, and general skrzynecki posted upon it twelve pieces of artillery of large calibre (_a_). the remaining part of this position was, like the former, covered with scattered clumps of brush-wood. the principal circumstance, however, which made this position eligible, was the declivity of the ground, inclining towards the marshy ponds above mentioned. general skrzynecki collected all his cavalry upon his right wing, to hinder the enemy from gaining the road that leads to minsk (a). the left of his position (b) he laid open to the enemy. the position in that direction was surrounded by marshes, upon which, if the enemy should advance, it would be impossible for him to extricate himself without being exposed to fight on the most disadvantageous terms. on this oblique front, general skrzynecki awaited the approach of the russian force. in about half an hour after our position was taken, the enemy arrived, and began to debouch between the two ponds, which he was allowed to do, under a very light fire of our artillery. every manoeuvre, however, upon our right was met with desperate charges of the bayonet, and the fire of our whole artillery. all his attempts in that quarter were ineffectual. in the repulses of these attacks, two of our bravest colonels, boguslawski, commander of the th regiment of infantry, and ziemiecki, commander of the d regiment of hulans, (the former fighting on foot with his carbine in his hand at the head of his regiment,) were severely wounded. at last, after these ineffectual attempts on our right, the enemy fell into the plans of general skrzynecki, and began to act on our left, when our commander hastened to take all the advantage of the situation in which the enemy were about to expose themselves, that the lateness of the day permitted. general skrzynecki passed down the front of our line, and addressed the soldiers in a few animating words, to prepare them to make a general attack on the enemy. our forces were divided into two parts, the smaller of which occupied, by their attack, the main body of the enemy, while the larger threw itself upon the enemy's right wing, which was at some distance from the rest of his forces, and was apparently intending to act on our right wing and to turn it. in a moment this body of the enemy's force was completely broken up. the fury of the attack was such, that some russian battalions were entirely destroyed. it was only the near approach of night, and the inadequacy of our force for a pursuit, which saved the whole of the enemy's corps from destruction; for his entire right wing took to flight, and a general consternation ensued. the enemy lost on that day, according to his own reports, more than , men, in killed, wounded, and prisoners. on our side the loss amounted to about . thus ended the memorable battle of dobre. general skrzynecki left his position, and arrived on the same night at stanislawow. marshal diebitsch and the grand duke constantine were with the russian forces, in person, on that day, according to the report of the prisoners. the former, to whom this commencement of the withering of his laurels had led to a state of the greatest exasperation, often led the columns in person to the fire--but all in vain. on the same day, as we have already remarked, our right wing was attacked at minsk. the enemy supposed that our main force was there, and it was for that reason that he chose to attack dobre, being more confident of piercing our line at that point. the russian corps under general rosen, which attacked our right wing, satisfied themselves with keeping up a fire of artillery on minsk, and the day passed without any attempt to force the position having been made. our troops were in the same position at night as in the morning, and nothing of importance occurred, although occasionally severe losses were sustained on both sides. footnotes: [footnote : it was in this battle that the celebrated matuszka (in russian mamyuika,) or the image of the holy mother, fell into our hands. this image was held in great veneration by that superstitious people. in the campaign of turkey, many of their successes were attributed to the mamyuika. its loss occasioned a general sensation in the russian army, and was regarded by them as a most unfavorable presage. we often heard the prisoners whom we afterwards took, attribute all their misfortunes to the holy mother having abandoned them.] chapter ix. retrograde movement of the th of february.--details of this movement, and of the actions which took place.--the army reaches the field of praga.--its reception at warsaw.--position of the army.--battle of wavre and bialolenka.--operations of general dwernicki against the corps of prince wirtemburg.--defeat of that corps by general dwernicki at swierza.--renewal of the enemy's attack on the main army on the th.--its successful resistance.--review of the events of the preceding days.--examination of the plan of operations of the polish army. on the th, our whole line was ordered to make a retrograde movement. [_see plan_ vi.] the utmost order and tranquillity was to be observed in this movement. the several corps were required to preserve a constant communication with each other, and to keep themselves uniformly on the same parallel. general zimirski, commanding the right wing (a), and who remained on the main road, received orders to take advantage of every good position which he should meet with between dembe-wielkie ( ) and milosna ( ). three points in particular were recommended to his attention, dembe-wielkie, ( ), and milosna. nature presents at those points commanding positions surrounded by forests. in each of those positions, the enemy would be exposed to the fire of our artillery, on debouching from the intervening forests; and it was designed to make the attack of those positions as costly as possible to the enemy. [illustration: _vi. p. _] the centre (b), which was commanded by generals skrzynecki and krukowiecki, was to retire upon the road which leads from stanislawow ( ) to okuniew ( ). upon this winding road, which traverses thick forests, the means of defence was easy. the left wing (c), commanded by szembek and uminski, which was in the environs of zegrz ( ), received orders to gain jablonna ( ), and zombke ( ), on the same night. the great bridge over the narew at zegrz was to be destroyed, and a small detachment to be left at zagroby, for the purpose of observing the enemy. conformably to the above orders, our entire line commenced the evacuation of its position, and an incessant fire was kept up throughout the line, during the whole day. in the morning, two squadrons of light cavalry, which were sent from minsk to stanislawow, met a regiment of cossacks, who were making a reconnoisance, after having traversed the forest of jakubow. the cavalry threw themselves upon them, dispersed them, and took two hundred prisoners with their horses. upon the position of dembe, our cavalry threw themselves upon some russian artillery which appeared upon our right, and were marching in a direction from ruda. six chests of ammunition were taken, and four pieces of cannon were spiked. at stanislaus, the d regiment of hulans and the th of the line performed prodigies of valor, throwing themselves continually upon superior masses of the enemy. the division of general zimirski repelled two successive attacks from a superior force of the enemy at konik, upon the road between dembe-wielkie and janowek. twelve pieces of artillery, placed upon the elevated points of the road, poured an incessant fire of grape upon the masses which were advancing to the attack, and which were enclosed by forests on both sides, as well as impeded in their progress by the trees which had been placed across the road to obstruct them; and, although the enemy constantly renewed his attacking columns, he was not able to force our position, which indeed was not evacuated, until the movement of the general line required a corresponding withdrawal of this division. our left wing fought with equal advantages at nasielsk. from this town, which was entirely in flames, the attacks of the enemy were repeatedly repulsed. our artillery distinguished themselves by acts of daring valor. they drew their pieces into the midst of blazing streets, in order to pour a more effective fire upon the masses of the enemy, who had entered at the opposite extremities. the first regiment of light infantry, having at their head the brave szembek, threw themselves upon a part of the town occupied by a whole division of the enemy, and drove them out. even in the midst of the burning town, our chasseurs fell upon and destroyed the different parties of the enemy. the enemy, on quitting the place, were exposed to continual attacks from our cavalry, under the command of general uminski, who took on that day some hundred prisoners, and among them several officers. our right wing in its last position at milosna ( ), held the enemy in check before that town. general zimirski placed his artillery upon the heights behind the town, from which the town and the adjoining plain was commanded. every attempt of the enemy, every debouchment from the forest, cost him a severe loss. the enemy in vain took positions with his artillery to act upon us. he was not permitted to occupy milosna until night approached. at okuniew, the road passes a marshy forest for more than half a mile. the enemy was imprudent enough to push his columns upon this road. general skrzynecki awaited them at a point not far distant on the opposite side. the advanced guard of the enemy, imprudently composed of several regiments of cossack cavalry, had already passed the dyke, when the th regiment threw themselves in columns upon them. these forces of the enemy were thrown into the utmost consternation. their only escape was into the marshes on either side, where some hundreds of them were taken prisoners without resistance. the arrival of the night terminated the scene, and saved this advanced guard of the enemy from total destruction. thus ended a sanguinary day, on which, in every part of our line, our troops were victorious, and the enemy was subjected to immense losses. our generals had made the best choice of their positions, and had profited by them to the utmost. the enemy's loss on that day, in killed, wounded, and prisoners, amounted to at least , men. on our side the loss did not exceed , .[ ] on the night of the th our army took the following position. [_see plan_ vii.] our left wing was between jablonna ( ) and zombki ( ), and sent out its reconnoisances as far as zagroby ( ), upon the narew (n), the bridge over which at that place they destroyed. our centre was between okuniew ( ) and zombki ( ). our right wing was at wavre ( ). after two such bloody days, as the preceding had been for the russians, we cannot sufficiently express our astonishment that marshal diebitsch should have allowed his army no repose, but should have again pushed his attack, without any new plan, on the th and th. these operations of diebitsch, without an assignable end, indicated a blind confidence in numbers, or the headlong fury of a man inflamed by the renown which he had acquired, and who was determined to make the event bear out as nearly as possible, whatever sacrifice it might cost, the rash boast which he is said to have made, that he would finish the war in twenty-four hours. but he sacrificed his thousands in vain. on the th an action took place, not only with the grand army under the walls of warsaw, or on the fields of praga, but also on the left bank of the vistula at swierza [( ) _pl._ vi], forty miles from warsaw, where general dwernicki beat prince wirtemberg, who, as we have already mentioned, had passed the vistula at pulawa [( ) _pl._ vi], and was approaching warsaw [( ) _pl._ vi]. battle of wavre and bialolenka. [_pl._ viii _and_ ix.] at the break of day, upon every point, the right wing, the centre, and the left wing, our line was attacked. we might remark in regard to the positions of the two armies on that day, that our right wing, (a) which was at wavre, was unprotected, while on the other hand the left wing (c) of the enemy, opposite to it, was very advantageously placed on heights covered with wood, between milosna and wavre. our centre (b) was better posted at kawenzyn. it occupied this village, (which was in a commanding position,) and the declivity descending from it to the plain of zombki. our left wing at bialolenka was also advantageously covered by little wooded hills, having two dykes in front leading toward them. the russians on that day directed their strongest attack upon our right wing, which occupied the weakest position. with the view of carrying this position, they sent against it some forty battalions of infantry and some thirty squadrons of cavalry, supported by seventy pieces of artillery. our position was defended by a division of about ten battalions of infantry and fifteen squadrons of artillery, supported by twenty-four pieces of artillery. this enormous disproportion did not discourage our soldiers. their energy supplied the place of numbers. the enemy commenced his attack by a warm fire of light troops and a fire from his artillery, which commanded the plain. the skilful manoeuvres of general zimirski, in displaying his front, contracting it, dividing it into small parties, and withdrawing or advancing, as the direction of the enemy's artillery required, and thus avoiding the effect of his fire, prevented the loss which it would else have occasioned. in this way several hours were occupied, when the enemy, trusting to the impression which he supposed his fire to have made, at about ten o'clock sent forward twelve or more battalions (d) to the charge. general zimirski, anticipating this movement, withdrew, in order to lead them on to the plain between wavre and grokow, sending to general skrzynecki an aid-de-camp to inform him of this manoeuvre, and to engage him to send a force of cavalry to act upon the enemy's columns in flank. general skrzynecki, who occupied, as we have stated, the heights of kawenzyn, was also warmly engaged with a brigade of the enemy, and had already observed this imprudent advance of the enemy in his attack, who had indeed gone beyond the line of skrzynecki's position. in a moment the order was given for the brigade of general kicki to throw themselves upon the enemy's flank; and as general kicki approached with the ten squadrons (e) which composed his command, general zimirski gave orders for a general charge both upon the enemy's cavalry (f) and infantry (d). the columns of the enemy were carried away before these charges, and their attack was wholly paralyzed. this onset, which was so successfully made, forced the enemy (h) to incline his position back from kawenzyn to milosna. that manoeuvre was decisive of the enemy's fate, and it was well understood by our generals. general skrzynecki, by pushing forward the left of his division, cut off the right wing of the enemy from all communication with his centre, and at about mid-day our right wing and centre occupied their former position at wavre, including the small forest of elders which was between the enemy's left wing and centre; and, in fact, general skrzynecki occupied a part also of the great forest. this state of things was to be profited by, and the right wing of the enemy, thus separated, was to be attacked before the enemy should be able to renew his attack upon kawenzyn, and the forest of elders, and our right wing. to execute this plan, the two divisions of krukowiecki and szembek, composing our left wing, which was fighting at bialolenka, [_see plan_ ix] received orders to push a strong attack against the enemy's front, at the same moment that a brigade (b) of skrzynecki's division, supported by some pieces of cannon, operated upon the road (_a_) leading from kawenzyn (_b_) to zombki (_k_). by this manoeuvre the enemy was menaced with being taken in the rear. the left wing, as we have said, was warmly engaged with the superior force of the russians; who, by placing some fifty pieces of cannon (_f_) behind the two dykes (_e_) above named, kept up a sweeping fire of grape upon our artillery (_d_) and infantry (_c_), which were defending the passage of the dykes. a considerable body of the enemy had already reached the hither side of the dykes, when general uminski, with a brigade of cavalry (d), advanced to the charge, and at the same time communicated the orders to the two divisions to commence the general attack. under a warm fire of grape, our cavalry threw themselves upon the enemy's infantry, which had debouched over the dykes. a general charge commenced, and our cavalry penetrated the enemy's masses. the nd and rd regiments of chasseurs distinguished themselves by their feats of bravery. the enemy was repulsed, and began to fall back and crowd upon the dykes, and at this moment their rout was effected. a brigade (b) from general skrzynecki's division arrived, and commenced a fire of grape upon the dykes, over which the enemy was flying in the greatest disorder. their ranks were in the utmost confusion; they crowded with precipitation upon the dykes, exposed continually to our destructive fire. by this repulse the whole of the enemy's right wing was broken, and they commenced a general retreat, leaving a great number of prisoners, who either had not reached the dykes or could not get from them, amounting to perhaps a thousand men, besides another thousand killed and wounded. the enemy also lost two standards, four pieces of cannon, several chests of ammunition, and many horses. [illustration: _vii. p. ._] [illustration: _viii. p. ._] [illustration: _ix. p. ._] [illustration: _x. p. ._] in this manner ended the attack upon that wing; and indeed the general attack might be said to have ended here. towards night the enemy renewed his attacks upon our centre and right, but they were feeble. thus closed another day, which, like the preceding, was most propitious to our arms. battle at swierza. [_see plan_ x.] on this same day, as we have mentioned, general dwernicki, with a detached corps, fought the enemy at swierza. the reader is already aware that this general, having gained a victory over the corps of general kreutz at stoczek [_plan_ vi, ( )], on the th of february, received orders to pass the vistula, in order to defend the palatinate of mazovie, to check the operations of the enemy there, and to obstruct his demonstrations upon warsaw. on receiving this order, general dwernicki, on the night of the same day, quitted stoczek, traversed zelechow ( ) and macieiowice, and on the th passed the vistula near ryczywol ( ). on the th he commenced his operations against the corps of prince wirtemberg, which was on its way from radom, and the advanced guard of which begun to show itself upon the plain of ryczywol.[ ] general dwernicki harassed the enemy on that day [_see plan_ x,] by continual charges of cavalry, in which the krakus of krakowie were particularly distinguished. his only plan upon that day was to keep the enemy upon the plain of ryczywol. during the night he intended to pass, with the chief part of his force, the river radomierza above ryczywol (_f_), and by this course to present himself to the enemy upon the road which leads from radom to ryczywol, the same road in fact upon which the enemy had advanced, and attack him both on his flank and rear, the vistula being on his front. in executing this movement, general dwernicki left two squadrons of cavalry (a), one battalion of infantry (a), and two pieces of cannon, at the side of the river, under the command of colonel russyian. he then quietly left his position, and crossed the river in its fordable places (_f_) about half a league above. colonel russyian, who as we have said remained on the position at ryczywol, was ordered to commence a light fire of skirmishers at break of day, but to retrograde constantly, and to allow the enemy an easy passage over the bridge. on the th, the enemy (d), who had no suspicions of the manoeuvre, commenced in the morning his debouchment upon the bridge, having the expectation of engaging with our whole force in a decisive battle upon the field of ryczywol. his astonishment may be imagined, when, as the day commenced, he found both upon his flank and his rear a force marching against him to the attack (b). the enemy stopped passing the bridge, and attempted to turn and meet the attack, but this was not permitted him. our cavalry threw themselves with impetuosity upon that part of his forces which were attempting to place themselves in position; and our artillery, which was boldly brought near the enemy's columns, poured a terribly destructive fire of grape upon them. the utmost consternation ensued, and a general and disorderly flight was commenced in the direction of nowawies (n), to which place our corps continued the pursuit of the enemy (r). this day, which may be called one of the most brilliant in our war, cost the enemy, besides his killed and wounded, two thousand prisoners, with more than twenty officers, four standards, ten pieces of cannon, some hundred horses, and about thirty chests with ammunition, with officers' baggage, &c. the prince wirtemberg with the remains of his corps retreated by forced marches to the small town of granica, where he repassed the vistula and reached pulawa. thus, by a single battle, the whole country on this side of the vistula was cleared of the presence of the enemy. general dwernicki permitted to his corps, who were really much exhausted by fighting and marching, to repose by a slow march as far as kozienice, where he remained stationary, sending out, however, his reconnoisances as far as pulawa. on the th of february our main army was engaged with the enemy the whole day upon the same position as on the preceding. this repetition of his attack, without a change of plan or position, was a great weakness in the enemy. on that day, feeling sensibly the loss of a part of the great forest opposite kawenzyn, as well as that of the small forest of elders, the enemy commenced his attack upon those points. some twenty battalions were incessantly pushed forward to the attack, against which eight battalions on our part kept an effectual stand for several hours. this day, although uninteresting and indecisive in manoeuvres, was bloody. no important blow was attempted by us, but every attack of the enemy was met with a vigorous and sanguinary repulse. it was a day of glory for the th regiment--the day on which that celebrated regiment, though already distinguished, began to take its high place in our reports; and on which it fought with a degree of valor that could never have been surpassed. without even waiting for orders, this brave regiment was seen constantly pushing itself towards the points of the greatest danger; and its companies were often fighting singly in the very midst of the thickest masses of the enemy. by the unsuccessful and costly attacks of the enemy the whole day was occupied, and at its close, after the loss of thousands of men, he had not gained a foot of ground. thus ten days had passed in continual and bloody actions upon the same position, during which the polish army had been uniformly successful, and at the end of which the enemy discontinued his attacks, thus giving the most convincing proof of the extent of the losses he had suffered on all points, during that period, amounting, in fact, in killed, wounded and prisoners, to full , men. in this space of ten days, the whole russian army had been engaged, and that army amounted, as we have already said, and as will be confirmed by all the official reports, to more than , infantry, , cavalry, and pieces of cannon. to this force was opposed a handful, comparatively, of poles, consisting of , infantry, , cavalry, and pieces of cannon; a sixth part, in fact, of the russian force. this memorable commencement of our war will show to the world what can be effected by a nation fighting in defence of its liberty and to throw off an oppressive yoke. those bloody combats, and that enthusiasm, to which my feeble pen cannot render justice, but which some better historian will present to the world in their true colors, should convince men that the immense mercenary forces which a despot may lead on, and by which he trusts to enforce his will, may avail him little. his enormous masses are like a heap of sand, which a little stone can pierce. without animating motives, and therefore without energy,--a machine scarcely to be trusted,--that army itself, upon the slightest change of circumstances, may become terrible to the despot, of whom and of whose creatures it was to have been made the unhappy sacrifice. the reader will pardon me, if i fatigue him with farther reflections upon this stage of our affairs. i shall not exaggerate in saying that this enormous mass of the enemy's forces would in an equal period have been absolutely annihilated, if we had then had a commander in chief of greater talent, and a general plan of operation differently arranged,--for the different operations in detail were, generally speaking, perfectly executed. the commander in chief, prince radzivil, was an individual of the most estimable character, but as he afterwards himself avowed, not possessed of military talent. general chlopicki, who was always near him, and who in fact virtually commanded, if he had in the early part of his life exhibited military talent, in his present advanced age had certainly lost much of his energy, and was unfit to undertake things which demanded the most active intellect, and the most absolute devotedness of mind and body to the cause. we cannot too strongly express our astonishment that general chlopicki, who had formed the plan, and a very judicious one it was, of drawing the enemy on to the walls of warsaw, to give him there a decisive battle, should have neglected to fortify the natural positions upon his route, by which the enemy's loss would have been doubled or even trebled. serock and zagroby ( ), [_see plan_ vi], situated upon points of the greatest importance, especially the first, were evacuated by our forces, for the want of proper defences. not the slightest fortification was constructed at the different passages of the narew (n), the bug (b), the liewiec (l), and the swider (s), nor upon the region between those rivers, which was full of forests and impenetrable marshes, and in which proper fortifications would have presented the most important obstructions to the enemy's passage. no concealed passages or by-roads through those forests were constructed, as they should have been, by which a body of troops could be led in ambuscade and brought to act suddenly on the enemy's flanks or otherwise, in critical moments, and with decisive effect. such works would have required but little expense, and could have been made by the jewish inhabitants, of whom there are some millions in poland, (twenty thousand in warsaw alone,) and who could have no claims for exemption, for they render no service to the country, but on the contrary lead a life of profitable fraud and deception, practised upon the inhabitants. the jews, indeed, with some very few exceptions, did not in the least aid in the war, but often frustrated our exertions by their espionage; and there are in fact instances of their having fought against us,--against those who had given them an asylum upon their soil. in the towns of nasielsk and makow this occurred. this part of our population, who had an equal interest with us in the protection of the country, as far as property was concerned, could have been thus employed with perfect justice and propriety. if, by such arrangements, a system of fortification had been properly united with tactics, and all the plans directed by a man of talents and energy, of which examples were certainly to be found in our ranks, with such troops to command, the reader will admit that the russian forces could have been soon driven back to the frontiers. the succession of victories which we have described were not the results of any general system:--they were victories of detail, executed with energy and rapidity, and for which we were indebted to the generals of divisions and brigades, the colonels of regiments, &c. these successes were isolated, but, had they been made to bear upon each other, their advantages would have been much greater. for example, the battle of dobre, which was so brilliantly gained by skrzynecki, would have caused the total ruin of the corps opposed to him, if the th division of krukowiecki, which was in the environs of jadow, had come to the aid of skrzynecki during that action. and indeed this was the expectation of skrzynecki when he remained so long upon the position of makowiec. but this division, instead of acting upon the rear of the enemy, as it might have done, having no orders to this effect, continued its retrograde march, although within the sound of the cannon of that action. on the th there was not enough of harmony in the operations of the several divisions. on that day, if those operations had been directed from one point as from a centre, the enemy, who had been guilty of extreme imprudence in the advance which he had made into the marshy and wooded region between stanislawow ( ), okuniew ( ), and the great road, could have been completely hedged in. [_see plan_ vi.] the manoeuvres of general zimirski, when the enemy made his rapid attack on the morning of the th, were executed at hazard, no general order having been given in anticipation of such an attack. these manoeuvres were well executed by general zimirski: but if the case had been thus anticipated by the commander in chief, and, at the commencement of the action, our right wing had been withdrawn to grochow, [_see_ (a) _plan_ viii,] an obstinate defence of the commanding position of kawenzyn (b) being kept up, and the enemy had been thus allowed to follow our right wing with his left; by the same method of operation which was in fact executed by skrzynecki and zimirski, in concert, but with much larger forces; the enemy could have been attacked on his flank, and instead of the annihilation of his sixteen battalions, the same fate would have attended twice or thrice that number;--for, when a force is taken by surprise in flank and rear, numbers avail comparatively little in resistance;--indeed, the greater the number, the greater is the difficulty of changing position, and the greater the disorder and consternation which follows. the russian army was thus early inspired with terror at the resistance which it had experienced, and the immense losses to which it had been subjected. it was of the utmost importance to profit by this consternation; but the vast advantages which might have been gained under such circumstances, by some general plan of offensive operations of bold and decisive character, were let pass. footnotes: [footnote : i cannot pass over this occasion of describing the manner in which the nation received that army, which had but a month before left the walls of warsaw, and had, after so many glorious actions, returned to give there a decisive battle to the enemy, and to fall or conquer there before the eyes of the nation. those were moments rare in history, and should be handed down to posterity, to demonstrate to what a height the feelings of the nation were exalted, and what a unanimity was felt in the great cause that warmed all hearts. the thunder of the cannon which, during the th, rolled over the fields of milosna and okuniew, was heard at warsaw, and announced the approach of the army. at nightfall, when our first detachments began to show themselves from the forests of milosna and jablonna, and to deploy upon the plains of wavre and bialolenka, the whole population of warsaw began to leave the city, and go forth to meet and hail their defenders. the senate, whose estimable president, czartoriski, was with the army, left the city also. in a short time the fields were covered with an exulting multitude. when the army took its position, and all was quiet under the protection of night, the people drew near and entered the camp. what a touching scene was there presented! here a father and mother seek their son, who meeting them, presses them to his bosom. there a wife, leading her children, finds her husband and their father, and throws herself into his arms, while the children cling around the knees of their delighted parents. a melancholy contrast was presented by those who sought in vain for son--husband--parent. but no complaint was heard. the tears falling for those who were no more, were checked by the thought that they had died for their country. the senate, in the name of the nation, and in the most touching language, thanked the commander in chief and his officers for the services which they had rendered to their country, and requested them to communicate these sentiments to the whole army. they finished their address in nearly the following terms: 'preserve, brave compatriots, this noble energy, and in a short time the throne of despotism will fall, and upon its ruins civilization and public happiness will rise.' the people continued with the army, furnishing them with every comfort, and regardless of the fire which was commenced the next day from the enemy's artillery. under this fire, vehicles with provisions and ammunition were continually arriving from the city, and some of them were destroyed by the enemy's shot. during the actions before warsaw, the inhabitants made it a duty to be at hand, to bear off and succor the wounded; and among those who engaged in these offices were some of the most distinguished ladies of warsaw. the strangers who were then there, and who witnessed the enthusiasm which animated the people, and seemed to unite them into one family, exclaimed that such a nation could never, and ought never be conquered. the following days, the st, nd, and rd of february, in which no action took place, were devoted to thanksgiving to god, for his favor in protecting the polish cause thus far. in all the churches the people assembled to offer prayers for the welfare of the country; and the army employed this period of repose in the same manner. on that field, over which the three hundred cannon of the enemy were pointed in battle array; while the first line was in position, the rest of the army were engaged in these devotional exercises. at each assemblage of troops, the ministers of religion administered patriotic oaths, and animated the soldiers to perseverance in the holy struggle. those sacred ceremonies were followed by hymns, which were sung along the whole line, and which, mingling with the solemn sounds of the bells of warsaw tolling for the assembly of the people in the churches, produced an indescribably impressive effect. these exercises ended in the general shout of 'poland forever!' to convince the russians that the poles were not blindly fighting against them as russians, but for that cause of civilization and happiness which was of equal moment to themselves, several hundred white flags were prepared with inscriptions in the russian language, in terms such as follows: 'russians! brother sarmatians! we march to combat not as your enemies, but to fight for your welfare as well as our own.' each regiment received from ten to twenty of those flags, which, during the combat, were to be distributed among the tirailleurs and flankers. they were directed to throw them, as occasion might offer, among the russian ranks. many of those volunteers, in rushing forward to plant those flags among the russian skirmishers, met their death at the hands of those whom they wished to save from tyranny. thus the poles had done all that their duty required of them in this holy contest, to convince the world that the general cause of civilization and happiness was the great end of their struggle. they sought not their own aggrandizement by conquests from the territory of another nation, for their ancient boundaries are wide enough for them. they fought for that liberty which they had for ages possessed; and that ancient liberty and those ancient limits they will sooner or later regain.] [footnote : the prince wirtemberg, who commanded the corps against which general dwernicki was sent, had served in the polish army as brigadier-general. he was cousin to the present king of wirtemberg, and nephew of the late emperor alexander, who married his aunt. this prince commanded the d and th regiment of hulans, of the first of which regiments general dwernicki was colonel. in this way the prince was perfectly well known to general dwernicki, and was held by him in very low esteem, as a man of vanity and pretension, and a tyrant over his subalterns. the vices of his character developed themselves sufficiently during our revolution. at the breaking out of the revolution at warsaw, this man was at krasny-staw, a small town in the palatinate of lublin, in which his brigade was posted. on the arrival of the news of the revolution, his first care was to secrete himself. afterwards, finding that it was impossible to keep concealed, he began to tamper with the brigade, and tried to persuade his soldiers to adhere to the service of the grand duke, and to refuse to join the cause of their country. these false persuasions, coming from him, a general in the polish service, in open defiance of the will of the nation, and in opposition to its holiest efforts, afforded a sufficient ground of accusation against him, to have brought him to judgment as a traitor. besides all this, by his tyrannic conduct as a general, he had deserved severe treatment. but all these offences were forgotten, and the nation spared him, merely ordering him to quit the country. he exhibited his gratitude for this delicate treatment, by departing for russia and the polish provinces, and pointing out for arrest some of the most respectable citizens, who were known for their patriotic sentiments. he passed several days at wlodawa, a small frontier town between the polish kingdom and the government of grodno. there he was guilty of the mean act of intercepting the correspondence between the different patriotic individuals. this was not enough. in the campaign, he took the command of a russian corps destined to act in the very palatinate of lublin where he had held his polish command for fourteen years, and where all the proprietors had treated him with the greatest kindness and delicacy. arriving there with his corps, he left at every step the traces of his tyranny. on reaching pulawa, the estate of the beloved czartoriski, the president of the national government, the residence of that family from which he had himself received so many kindnesses, and in which every virtue reigned, he did not scruple to give orders to burn the town;--he did not scruple to take the name in history of 'the devastator of pulawa'--of that beautiful spot on which the labor of ages had been expended, and which was so celebrated for the charms with which nature as well as art had enriched it. his cruelties were carried to such a height, that he actually caused to be beaten with the knout, a young lady, a friend of the princess czartoriski, who had manifested her patriotic sentiments by the sacrifice of her jewels to aid the cause of her country. even the princess czartoriski, who was already at an advanced age, was not spared the insults of this gross man, who, to put the finishing stroke to his barbarity, on his second visit to pulawa, directed a fire of artillery upon the palace, which he knew was occupied only by the princess and her ladies. even the russians themselves regarded these actions with abhorrence. in regard to his military talents, they were of the lowest order. general dwernicki promised that in a few weeks he would despatch him; and he in fact kept this promise to the letter.] chapter x. proceedings of the national government.--marshal diebitsch continues in a state of inactivity.--negotiations are opened by him.--his propositions are declined.--position of the army on the th, and battle of bialolenka.--position on the th.--great battle of grochow.--details.--state of the russian army after its defeat.--examination of the plan of the battle of grochow.--remarks upon the course adopted by prince radzivil after that victory.--the polish army crosses the vistula to warsaw.--its reception by the national government and the citizens.--resignation of prince radzivil. whilst the army was thus gloriously fighting, the national government were laboring for the happiness of the people. among other valuable institutions, it adopted a paternal guardianship over the defenders of the country by designating an allotment of lands for each soldier. many of the most wealthy families contributed of their landed property for that object. another act was to free the peasantry from the corvee, by purchasing the rights of the landholders over them. each peasant was made a proprietor, and for the landholders an arrangement of compensation in the form of annual instalments for a period of years, was made by the government. other institutions for the public welfare, as the establishment of schools, &c, received also the attention of the government. when, after so many battles, the russian commander discontinued his attacks, it may be supposed that besides the repose which his army required, he had another object, viz. to wait the arrival of new corps, consisting of , men, and pieces of cannon, under prince sczachowski. he evidently wished to concentrate all his small detachments and all his reserves, in order to strike, with his whole force, a decisive blow; and the attempt was, in fact, soon made. our army, which in the ten preceding days had lost about six thousand men, was reinforced by three regiments armed with pitchforks, amounting to about the number we had lost. our whole army, infantry and cavalry, may have amounted to , men, and, with the pieces taken from the enemy, cannon.--the russian army, with the new corps of sczachowski, amounted to , men and pieces of cannon, deducting the artillery which had been lost or dismounted. marshal diebitsch, before commencing hostile operations, opened negotiations, and, for this purpose, sent a general of division, witt, with a flag of truce to our head-quarters. this general was stopped at our advanced post, whither general krukowiecki was sent by the commander in chief, with full powers, to meet him. general witt commenced with expressions of the greatest sensibility, and enlarged much upon the friendship which ought to exist between the poles and the russians as brother nations. he then spoke in very flattering terms of the heroism of the poles, lamenting that it was not displayed in a better cause. after much complimentary language, he insensibly passed to the ideas of duty and obedience to the monarch. general krukowiecki, who understood perfectly well all these professions, which he knew to be insidious, answered nearly in the following laconic terms: 'general, after the sad circumstances which have taken place, after the bloody combats to which we have been forced by the tyranny of fifteen years, by the refusal of justice, and in fine by the violation of our frontier, and the laying waste of our territory,--upon this territory we can make no arrangements. you know well what are the frontiers of poland. upon the banks of the dnieper, four hundred miles hence, we may enter into negotiations.' thus all was ready for the sanguinary battle of two days, which followed, and one memorable in the annals of war. it commenced by a combat on the th at bialolenka, and ended on the th on the plain of grochow. position on the th, and battle of bialolenka the position of the two armies, on the th, was as follows. the polish army occupied the same ground as when they ceased firing on the th; but the force was disposed in a different manner.--the right wing was reinforced by the division of general szembek; and although bialolenka, kawenzyn, and wavre composed the line of combat, there was this difference, that, while before, the centre was at kawenzyn, and the left wing at bialolenka, at present the left wing was at kawenzyn; the forces which were at bialolenka were posted as a detached corps, and the centre of the army was at the forest of elders. the right wing occupied the space between the great road and the marshes of the vistula, called the marshes of goclaw. this arrangement made our line more concentrated. the first division under krukowiecki, which was at bialolenka, with the division of cavalry under uminski, was directed to observe the great road from jablonna, and all the roads leading from radzimin and zombki to warsaw. between kawenzyn and bialolenka the debouchment of the enemy was prevented by extensive marshes. the russian army was upon the same points as on the th. their greatest force was opposed to our right wing at wavre. on the afternoon of the th, the enemy attacked with impetuosity the first division at bialolenka. the corps of the enemy which made this attack was that of the prince sczachowski, which had recently joined the main army, and for which marshal diebitsch was supposed to have waited. this corps, as was afterwards ascertained, had missed their road, and became unintentionally engaged with our forces on that day. the orders of that corps were to traverse the forests between radzimin and zombki, and to join the army without being observed by our forces. it was the false direction which they took that brought on the engagement at bialolenka. this battle consisted, like the former actions at this place, of an attempt by the enemy to force the passage of the dykes, which were defended on our side by about eight battalions, protected by some twenty pieces of cannon. this small force repulsed the enemy in three successive attacks upon the dykes. at about , p.m. another russian corps, under general pahlen, came to the succor of sczachowski, and as the first corps attempted to pass the road leading from radzimin, the latter attempted to force the passage of the two dykes leading from zombki, and at both points under the cover of a terrible fire of artillery. if the reader will consider that our small force, consisting of only eight battalions and fifteen squadrons, stood their ground against two russian corps of nearly , men and pieces of cannon, the efforts which were made on that day may be appreciated. our plan of action consisted chiefly in allowing a part of the enemy's forces to pass the dykes, and then falling upon and cutting them up by successive charges of cavalry and infantry, supported by an effective fire of artillery. by such efforts this handful of brave men repulsed the attacks of the enemy until night, when his attacks ceased. at the approach of night, general krukowiecki sent small reconnoitering parties upon the roads from radzimin and zombki. these patrols, pushing as far as, and even beyond zombki, saw nothing of the enemy, and in fact learnt, to their astonishment, from the marauders whom they took, that the two russian corps had quitted their position, and were on their march across the forest of kawenzyn, to join the main army. this sudden withdrawal of the enemy's corps was an indication that they had received orders to join the grand army, and that a general attack was in contemplation for the next day. in expectation of this attack, a body of men was sent, during the night, to obstruct, by defences, the three roads leading from radzimin and zombki. small detachments were left on those roads, and the forces which were at bialolenka quitted their position, to reinforce the larger corps upon the plain of wavre. the following was the position of the two armies on the th, the day of the memorable battle of grochow. [_see plans_ xi _and_ xii]. the russian army was distributed into eight divisions of combatants, and three divisions of reserves. those eight divisions consisted of , infantry (_a_), , cavalry (_b_), and pieces of cannon (_c_). the three divisions of reserve (e) were composed of , infantry, , cavalry, and pieces of cannon. this enormous force, which occupied the space between kawenzyn (a) and the marshes goclaw (b), a distance of about three english miles, was arranged in two lines of combatants (c, d) and a third of reserve. their position was as follows: their left wing was between wavre (_r_) and the above marshes of the vistula, and was composed of four divisions of infantry, of , men, four divisions of cavalry, , , and pieces of cannon. the centre, opposite the forest of elders, consisted also of four divisions of infantry of , men, three of cavalry of , men, and pieces of cannon. the right wing, opposite the village of kawenzyn consisted of three and a half divisions of infantry of , men, four divisions of cavalry of , men, and pieces of cannon. upon the borders of the great forest opposite the forest of elders, was placed the reserve, commanded by the grand duke constantine. against this force our inconsiderable army was posted in the following manner. the right wing (g), formed by the division of szembek, consisting of about , infantry (_d_) and pieces of cannon (_f_), occupied the space between the road and the marshes above mentioned. the centre (h) occupied the forest of elders, and touched upon the great road. it was composed of two divisions commanded by skrzynecki and zimirski, composed of about , infantry (_d_) and pieces of cannon (_f_). the left wing (t) occupied kawenzyn, consisting of the first division, commanded by krakowiecki, composed of , men (_d_) and pieces of cannon (_f_). four divisions of cavalry (_g_), consisting of , men, commanded by uminski, lubinski, skarzynski, and jankowski, were not posted on any fixed point, but stood in readiness to act wherever occasions might offer. besides these, was a small reserve (k) of four battalions and eight squadrons, in all about , men, under the command of general pac. [illustration: xi. _grochow p. _ ] battle of grochow. on the th, at break of day, the fire commenced on our left wing, on the position of kawenzyn. the enemy pushed forward all the forces which were collected on his right wing, and commenced a terrible fire of artillery and musquetry, with the apparent determination to carry our wing by a single overpowering effort. nearly fifty pieces of artillery opened their fire upon kawenzyn, and numerous columns of infantry, under the protection of this fire, pressed forward to carry the position. but our forces prepared to meet the attack. small as they were, consisting only of seven battalions with twelve pieces of cannon, they had formed the determination to die or conquer upon that ground. they could hope for no succor, for the whole line was in expectation of a general attack. the brave generals krukowiecki and malachowski made every effort to sustain the perseverance of their troops, and each of them, at the head of their columns and on foot, threw themselves upon the enemy's ranks. our artillery did not answer that of the russians, but directed its fire of grape wholly upon the columns which were approaching. by the unparalleled bravery of our wing, of which every soldier seemed to have formed the resolution to fall rather than yield a foot of ground, this tremendous attack of the enemy was sustained for several hours, till at last he was obliged to slacken it. during the whole of this attack upon our left wing, the centre and the right remained still in their positions, awaiting the expected attack. it was near ten o'clock when the fields of wavre became, as it were, in one moment, covered with the forces of the enemy, which issued out of the cover of the forests overhanging the plain. looking over that plain, between the forest of elders and the vistula, one would have thought it was an undivided mass of troops which was in motion; for in that comparatively limited space, the eye could not distinguish the different divisions from each other. two hundred pieces of cannon, posted upon that plain, in a single line, commenced a fire which made the earth tremble, and which was more terrible than the oldest officers had ever witnessed. after having prolonged for some time this tremendous fire of artillery, the enemy made an attempt to carry our right wing; but in a moment all our cavalry were collected there, and fell upon and overthrew his columns, and his efforts were as fruitless here, as they had been against our left. having been unsuccessful in these two attacks on the wings, and hoping that he had weakened our line by the terrible fire of artillery, which he constantly kept up, the russian commander collected the greater part of his forces opposite the forest of elders, and it was there that an attack was commenced which presented a scene unheard of in the annals of war. it could with more propriety be called a massacre of nearly four hours duration. the russians brought together at this point one hundred and twenty pieces of cannon, posted in the rear and on the sides of that forest. some fifty battalions were incessantly pushed to the attack, with the view to get possession of that forest. had they been able to effect this, they would have divided our army into two parts, and thus could not but have ensured its destruction. it was the consideration of this important fact which prompted the horrible attack, and the desperate resistance which it met. the brave skrzynecki, zimirski, boguslawski, czyzewski, and rohland, defended this forest with fourteen battalions, whose admirably executed manoeuvres, the change of front, the arrangement of the attack in columns and escalon, the concentration of force upon the points in which the enemy's line seemed to waver, a fire which was never lost, but was always reserved for the closest approach of the enemy--all were executed with an activity, order and coolness never surpassed. it was only by such conduct that the tremendous attack of the enemy could have been sustained for four hours, and that, after having nine times gained possession of the forest, he was as often repulsed with an immense loss. like the infantry, our artillery performed prodigies. all the batteries, protected by cavalry which never abandoned them, pushed themselves in advance even of the line of the skirmishers, and approached sometimes within a hundred feet of the enemy's columns, in order to give their fire with the most infallible execution. the battery of the brave colonel pientka, which defended the border of the forest, was so far advanced that it was sometimes surrounded by the enemy, who, in his own disorder, did not become aware of the advantage. all the different operations indeed, of our artillery in this battle were truly admirable. batteries, now concentrated upon one point, were in a moment hurried to another and distant one, where the enemy was wholly unprepared for them, and was thrown into disorder by their sudden attack. in the early part of the afternoon, when the enemy, after having been several times repulsed, renewed his attack with the greatest determination, and our d division began to give way, the four batteries of artillery of the brave adamski, maslowski, hilderbrand, and bielak, in concert with that of colonel pientka, advanced like cavalry to the charge, and, approaching close to the russian columns, opened a fire of grape, which spread destruction and disorder in their ranks. our infantry, thus animated to the contest, rallied, and threw themselves again upon the enemy, who then yielded before them. like the artillery and infantry, our cavalry, besides the different charges which they executed with so much bravery, was manoeuvred with the utmost skill by our generals, and was made to fill the voids occasioned by the inferiority of our forces, so as always to present to the enemy an unbroken line. by such manoeuvres of the three arms, executed with the greatest determination, in which every commander performed his duty to the utmost, the enemy's plans were continually disorganized, and his enormous force, which at first sight would have been supposed capable to have absolutely crushed the small army opposed to it, was in effect only a great mass, making a continual oscillation, and which seemed to trust to do every thing by a terrible fire of artillery, which was always kept up, whether necessary or not. thus it was that fifty battalions of the enemy, amounting to over , men, supported by pieces of artillery, in a concentrated attack upon one point, the forest of elders, the decisive point of the position, were nine times repulsed from that forest, which was left literally covered with their dead. from eleven o'clock until three, these attacks continued through the whole line, (the most powerful being in the centre), and the destruction of life was immense. at the last named hour, our generals, each of whom we may remark had had their horses shot under them, and several of whom were severely wounded, formed the plan of giving the enemy a decisive blow. their plan was to withdraw from the fire the d and d divisions, which had suffered most, and to make a general retrograde movement in such a form as to have the wings considerably in advance of the centre, which was to be drawn back as far as the obelisk of iron (_k_), at which there was a position more commanding. this plan had the following objects:--the first was, to draw the enemy upon the open plain; the second was, to concentrate our force still more, and to place it in two lines, the inner one to be composed of the whole of the d and a part of the d division, which were withdrawn for repose. a third object was, to lead the enemy to believe that a retrograde movement was forced upon us by our losses, and that we felt ourselves too weak to continue the defence of the forest. to execute this manoeuvre, and to enable the d division to retire without being molested, the artillery was left with some twenty squadrons of cavalry to protect the retrograde movement. this artillery and cavalry were ordered afterwards to evacuate their positions gradually, and the former to take post in the centre under the protection of the whole of the cavalry, which were in escalon, and prepared for a general attack. the manoeuvre was as admirably executed as it was conceived. the enemy had no suspicion of its object, but, presuming it to be a flight, undertook to profit by it. it was at this moment that marshal diebitsch, as if sure of victory, saw himself already at warsaw, and, on the field of battle, he allowed these words to escape him: 'well, then, it appears that after this bloody day, i shall take tea in the belvidere palace.' it was about three p.m. that our nd division, in conformity with the plan adopted, began to retire by an escalon movement. to hasten the execution of this movement, it was ordered that the columns, retiring in succession, on reaching a considerable distance from the enemy, should quicken their pace as they proceeded, in order to form the second line as soon as possible, and to give space for the operations of the artillery and cavalry. it was at this moment that general zimirski, who had lost several horses under him, and had just placed himself upon a fresh horse, to superintend this movement, was struck with a twelve pound ball in the left shoulder, which carried away his arm, and caused his death in a few hours. the melancholy loss of this general was most deeply felt by the whole army, and particularly by his own division, but it did not interfere with the execution of these orders. the brave general czyzewski immediately took command of the division, and continued the orderly movement of the division towards the rear, and he received great support from generals rohland and zaluski. as soon as the last columns of this force quitted the forest, [_see plan_ xii] the russian troops began to debouch from it, and our artillery commenced a terrible fire. the brave colonel pientka, who was still far in advance, checked the debouchement from the forest near him. seated with the most perfect sangfroid upon a disabled piece of artillery, this brave officer directed an unremitting fire from his battery. the artillery and cavalry, after having protected the retrograde movement of the centre, still continued to keep their ground, to enable the wings also to retire undisturbed. all our forces were then in movement, and the enemy pressed on. the russian columns had already advanced beyond the position of colonel pientka, but that brave officer still kept up the defence.[ ] by this time, however, the nd division had already reached their destined position, and their battalions had commenced forming. such was the state of things, when, between kawenzyn and the forest, a cloud of russian cavalry was seen advancing to the attack, having at their head five regiments of heavy cuirassiers; a force in fact of some forty squadrons, or between eight and nine thousand in all. colonel pientka, with his artillery, supported only by a single regiment of mazurs, still held his post, to give yet another effective fire upon this advancing cavalry, which was already between him and skrzynecki's division; and then, to save himself from being cut off, he quitted at full gallop a post which he had occupied for five hours under the terrible fire of the artillery of the enemy. this rapid movement of pientka's battery and the regiment of cavalry which attended him, animated the russian cuirassiers in their advance, and the infantry and artillery of the enemy followed their cavalry. at this moment chlopicki was wounded by a grenade, and the army was without a head; but generals skrzynecki and czyzewski had already formed their divisions into squares, and awaited the attack of the enemy. the russian cavalry advanced upon the trot, and came in a direction perpendicular to the line of our battery of rockets, which was posted between the d and d divisions (a). suddenly a discharge from this battery was poured into their ranks, and enveloped them with flame and noise. their horses, galled to madness by the flakes of fire which were showered over them, became wholly ungovernable, and, breaking away from all control, spread disorder in every direction. the enemy's ranks were soon in the most utter confusion, and in a short time this enormous body of cavalry became one disordered mass, sweeping along towards the fire of our squares. in a very few minutes that cavalry was almost annihilated. so nearly complete, in fact, was their destruction, that of a regiment of cuirassiers, which was at the head of the attacking force, called the regiment of albert, and which also bore the designation of the 'invincible' inscribed upon their helmets, not a man escaped. the few who were not left dead upon the field were taken prisoners. in fact, some hundred horse of that regiment were whirled along through the intervals of our squares, and were left to be taken prisoners at leisure. the wrecks of this routed cavalry, closely pursued by our lancers, carried along in their flight the columns of infantry which were following them, and a general retreat of all the enemy's forces commenced. the battle was gained. the cry of 'poland forever!' arose along our line, and reached the walls of warsaw, to cheer the hearts of its anxious inhabitants. nothing was wanting but a skilful commander in chief to our forces, to have insured the entire destruction of the russian army. two thousand prisoners, among them twenty officers of different grades, five pieces of cannon, and upwards of a thousand horses, were the trophies of that immortal day, the memory of which will be forever terrible to tyrants. it was nearly five p.m. when the russian army commenced a general flight, and even evacuated its first position, which it had occupied in the early morning. it is to be regretted that the order to follow up the pursuit was wanting. szembek alone threw himself, at times, with his division, among the russian ranks, and took a great number prisoners, baggage and chests of ammunition. according to the declaration of general szembek, if, during the retreat of the enemy, a charge of cavalry and artillery had been ordered between the left wing and the centre of the enemy, a great part (p) of that wing, which was considerably detached from the centre, would have been cut off. this could have been easily done, for no part of our little reserve was brought into action during the day, and they were eager to be permitted to make the charge. the prince radzivil, after the withdrawal of general chlopicki from the army in consequence of his wound, found himself without council; and not feeling himself sufficiently capable to risk any bold manoeuvre; seeing too that the army was much exhausted by the fighting of that day and the preceding; and fearing also that the vistula might become impassable, and the bridges be endangered by the melting of the ice; in fine, being unwilling to take upon himself the great responsibility of attempting to pursue his advantages, decided to give the army an interval of repose, and to occupy the time in re-organizing it. some farther details, and remarks upon this important battle may not be unacceptable to the reader. st. in regard to position: on examining critically the position of the polish army, we notice some great faults. the right wing was upon a plain entirely uncovered, and exposed to the commanding fire of the enemy's artillery. all the talents of the brave szembek were required to prevent this wing from being unprofitably sacrificed. this same wing, if it had been withdrawn a thousand paces farther to the rear, in such a manner as not to have leant on the marshes of the vistula, but have occupied the small wooded hills on the right of the main road, and on a line with the village of grochow, would have been then in a commanding position, and safe from the tremendous fire of the enemy. the enemy would probably have then occupied the plain, and thus been disadvantageously exposed to our fire. his loss would have been doubled, and all the charges of our cavalry and infantry would have been much more effective. but what was above all unpardonable, was that, with a full knowledge of the enemy's intention to attack us, together with a consciousness of our own inferiority of force, and the nature of our position, which was wanting in strength, no fortifications whatever were erected, although four days and five nights were passed in that position, during which the national guard of warsaw, and all the unenrolled population, who would have cheerfully volunteered for the purpose, could have been employed in the construction of works to any desired extent. in regard to the centre, we may remark, that it was indeed covered by the forest of elders, of which it occupied a part, but the attack of this forest by the enemy was thus made necessary, and their repulse cost us too great sacrifices. but besides the sacrifices which the support of such a position required, our troops were so incessantly occupied with repulse of the successive attacks of the enemy, that it was impossible to attempt any decisive manoeuvre. it was not there, in fact, as we have seen, that the battle was decided, but at the obelisk of iron, and by other means. the centre, like the right wing, should have been withdrawn so far as to have been on a line with the village of grochow, and in such a manner as to profit by all the commanding positions between targowek and grochow, upon which our artillery (which, as the case was, were upon a low and exposed position opposite the forest), would have been very advantageously posted. in general, our whole position was too extended, reaching from kawenzyn to the marshes of the vistula at goclaw. it ought to have been from the beginning more concentrated, and supported on the outermost circumvallations of praga (b). it could thus have profited by the advantageous positions which adjoin those defences. in consequence of this too great extent of position, our forces remained in a single line for five hours in succession, in most dangerous exposure. in regard to the evolutions, although the details were admirably executed, it is to be remarked that the left wing did not yield a sufficient support to the other bodies. the communications with that wing were not well sustained--another effect of the too great extent of the position. the line of the enemy was encumbered with artillery, and there were favorable moments for a general attack on that artillery by our cavalry. such opportunities were perceived by our generals of cavalry, and the attack suggested by them to the commander in chief, but nothing was done. the greatest fault of all, however, and that which perhaps saved the russian army from entire destruction, was the neglect to follow up the enemy in his retreat, and by a judicious manoeuvre to cut off his right wing, as was perfectly practicable;--by such a manoeuvre, as it will be seen was, in fact, afterwards successfully practised by skrzynecki at wavre, where a great part of that same force were taken prisoners. the battle of grochow cost the enemy in killed, wounded, and prisoners, according to the reports published by the russians themselves, , men. on our side the loss amounted to , . but to give the reader an idea of the terrible fire of that day, it may be remarked that there was not a single general or staff officer, who had not his horse killed or wounded under him. full two thirds of the officers, and perhaps the same proportion of the soldiers, had their clothes pierced with balls, and more than a tenth part of the army were slightly wounded, though not unfitted for service. in this battle the d and d divisions of infantry suffered the most, and twenty of their officers were mortally wounded with grape-shot. i would not desire to present a revolting picture of the horrors of a battle-field, yet to impress upon the reader how great a scourge tyranny is to mankind, i could wish to point out to him, along the whole road from kawenzyn to the marshes of goclaw, hillocks of dead at every step, especially in the forest of elders, where rank upon rank was seen prostrate upon the earth. indeed, so strewed with bodies was this forest that it received from that day the name of _the forest of the dead_.[ ] with the twilight, our whole army began to evacuate their position, and to cross the vistula to warsaw. the passage of the river occupied the whole night. on the morning of the next day, all that remained of our forces upon the right bank, were two battalions of infantry, and thirty-six pieces of cannon, which were at the bridge-head of praga. the russians were well satisfied with our passage of the vistula, for they felt the need of repose. it was at first presumed that in a few days the enemy would storm praga. this, however, was soon found not to be their intention; and, for what cause we cannot conjecture, they continued in a state of complete inaction. such then was the end of the grand operation of marshal diebitsch, with his colossal forces, by which it was his purpose to put an end to the war in a few days! the boasted crosser of the balkan, with from , to , men, and pieces of cannon, was not only unable to crush, as he proposed to do, an army of scarcely , men and cannon, but was beaten by that small army, and only escaped a total ruin from the absence of a competent leader to the polish forces. such facts, so rare in history, cannot be too frequently impressed upon the mind of the reader, and they should be held up to the view of every despot, to teach him upon what a frail foundation his confidence in numbers may rest, and to convince him that his masses must melt away and be dispersed, before a people, who, on their own soil, are resolved to throw off the yoke of despotism, and who fight for liberty with the energy of despair.[ ] the nation and the army occupied this interval of repose in giving thanks to providence for the successes of the preceding day. in all the churches te deums were sung, as well as in the chapels of the camp near warsaw. the army was received by the people with solemnities. the senate, accompanied by the inhabitants, repaired to the camp, where patriotic addresses were delivered, and a public fete given to the army. for three successive nights, warsaw was illuminated, and the inscription 'to the defenders of their country,' was every where seen. unequal to the description of these moments of exultation of a people animated with the recovery of their freedom, i can only say that they were moments which will live forever in the heart of every pole, and will satisfy him that a nation so united will be always capable of great efforts. on the day after the religious ceremonies, the provisional government met in the national (formerly the royal) palace, where all the general officers of the army were also assembled to deliberate upon the measures to be adopted both in regard to military and civil affairs. it was on that occasion that the prince michael radziwil, actuated by the noblest impulses, and having a single view to the good of his country, abdicated the chief command, surrendering his trust into the hands of the national government, with the avowal that he did not feel himself sufficiently capable to continue to hold so responsible a post. this step, which showed a great elevation of character, impressed the nation with feelings of gratitude, and has given to prince radziwil a name in history. footnotes: [footnote : admirable as was the conduct of all our artillery, every man in which deserved a decoration, yet among this artillery, the battery of colonel pientka must be distinguished. without yielding a step of ground, that battery held its place for five hours, and it often happened during the battle, that this single battery was left exposed alone to the fire of thirty or forty of the enemy's pieces. it was computed that this battery alone caused a greater loss to the enemy than the entire loss that his whole artillery caused in our ranks; and i do not exaggerate in saying, that the fire, chiefly of grape, which pientka kept up for five hours, and at the distance often of a few hundred paces only, must have cost the russians from one to two thousand men. what is most remarkable, this battery itself, during the whole of the fire, did not lose more than one officer and six men killed, six wounded, and ten or twelve horses, two of which were killed under colonel pientka, whose clothes were pierced through and through with grape, and his casque torn in pieces, while, as if providentially preserved, his person was not in the slightest degree injured.] [footnote : up to the th of march, when a reconnoisance was made, as far as the plain of wavre, the dead were not yet interred, and all the confusion of a battle-field remained, proving that the enemy was too much occupied to give the ordinary attention to these duties. on that day several wagons filled with russian cuirassiers were sent to warsaw. many ruined caissons of ammunition, many gun-carriages, three deserted cannons, and several hundred carbines, sabres, and pistols, knapsacks, and helmets in considerable numbers were strewed over the field, and indicated the disorder in which the enemy had made his retreat. to prevent an epidemical malady, our government made a request to general diebitsch to send a body of his men to aid in the interment of the dead, which was in fact done. contemplating these masses of russian dead, the victims of a horrible despotism, what reflections were awakened! those unfortunate men were dragged to the combat to be sacrificed. not one of that mass of victims could see the justice of the cause for which they were thus sacrificed. what consolation could there be in the last agonies of suffering incurred in such a cause? there could be none. how different must have been the death of the polish soldier, who felt the sacredness and importance of the struggle on which he had entered. his last moments were consoled with the thought that his life was sacrificed for the good of his country. if the deaths of the russian and the polish soldier were thus different, their lives are not less so. what reward awaits the russian soldier? is it a service of twenty-five years under the terror of the knout, in which service he most generally dies, or if he survives, is too much broken down to be able to gain a subsistence afterwards? the russian soldier, besides the fatigues of the general service, is subject to a private service under any one of his superiors, the merest subaltern perhaps, who, far from rewarding him for such services, abuses him but the more freely. the full pay of a russian soldier is a groat a day; and even out of this little pay his superiors exact a profit. the consequence is, that the degree of his misery is excessive, and he would be in extremity if the proprietors of land where he is quartered did not succor him. what other recompense is given to these wretched men, who are thus led to the sacrifice of their lives for the self-will of a despot, who, while the soldier, covered with wounds, is groaning under his sufferings, spends his time in luxurious enjoyment, and perhaps mocks at the abjectness of men who are thus willing instruments of his pleasure? what other recompense for all this? perhaps to this soldier is given a medal of brass, which, if his commander in a moment of good humor, as he passes down the line, may have addressed him with the title of 'staryk' or 'old soldier,' he receives as a token of his having been through a campaign. compare this with the recompense which awaited the polish soldier on his return from the campaign. he was received by his countrymen with the warmest demonstrations of joy. mothers lifted their children in their arms, and pointed him out to them as one of the defenders of their country. no anxiety for the future weighed upon him, for his country had made ample provision for him. it was at his will to remain in the service, or to go to occupy the land designated for him by the national government. he would find there all that his wants might require. remaining in the military service, he enjoyed the respect of those about him. all were his brothers, and the greatest delicacy of intercourse was observed between him and his superiors. his service was an agreeable duty, in which, besides gaining an honorable subsistence, he received each day some new mark of friendship and esteem.] [footnote : the courage of our forces that day, was no doubt much animated by the vicinity of warsaw, for the battle was fought within view of the inhabitants, who covered the fields about praga. many of the equipages of the wealthy families attended to receive the wounded from the field of battle, and all the inhabitants, without distinction of rank, pressed forward to remove and succor them. those of the wounded who could not be led to the carriages, were carried in the arms of the citizens, and among those who performed this office were the highest members of the national government, ministers of religion, and even ladies. how then could such an attachment of the nation to her defenders, fail to be answered by an enthusiasm in her defence which knew no bounds. the wounded soldiers, in order not to draw upon this sympathy, conquered their sufferings, and stifled their groans; and to check the tears of those who bore them, they even forced themselves to raise the patriotic shout, and sing the national hymn. to the details illustrating the courage which was displayed upon that field, i may add the following:--in one of the attacks upon the forest of elders, when the enemy had gained possession of it, there was an interruption to our advance from a ditch which had been cut across the road, and which it was necessary to pass. the russian artillery, observing the effect of this obstruction, poured a heavy fire of grape upon the spot to add to the confusion. lieutenant czaykowski, who commanded a platoon of grenadiers of the th regiment, in the attacking columns, had passed with his platoon this small ditch, when he received a grape shot in the leg, which threw him down. as he fell, he cried, 'grenadiers, advance!' and continued this cry, regardless of his suffering, as he lay prostrate on the ground. those brave grenadiers, animated by this noble spirit, pushed their attack with such fury that they drove the enemy from his position. our artillery, which had so bravely fought, and which had to answer the terrible fire of the numerous artillery of the enemy, as well as to check the strong attacks of the russian columns, were obliged often to change their place, to concentrate, and disperse, as occasion required. it was in one of those evolutions, that a battery, posted near that commanded by captain hilderbrand, was required to change its position. the bombardier kozieradzki was sent to give orders to this effect. he was on his way to execute this commission, when a ball carried away his arm. that brave man, however, continued his way, thus severely wounded, reached the battery, executed his commission, and then fell from the loss of blood. the following incidents of this battle-field deserve to be mentioned, as indicating how little of national animosity mingled with the feelings of the combatants. it was often seen that the wounded soldiers of the hostile forces who happened to be thrown in each other's vicinity, would drag themselves towards each other for mutual relief, and engage in friendly conversation. 'why,' would a polish soldier say to the russian, 'why are we shedding each other's blood? the cause for which we have taken arms is that of your happiness, as well as our own.' the russian soldier could only answer, with tears of shame, 'we have been driven to march against you.' no stronger example could be given, of the kindest dispositions of the poles towards the russians, than the treatment of the latter in our hospitals. they were nursed and fed, like our own wounded, by the hands of those benevolent and patriotic females who had devoted themselves to these holy duties. on leaving those hospitals, the russian soldiers swore never to forget the kindness they had experienced.] chapter xi. passage of the vistula to warsaw.--disposition of the polish forces on its left bank.--appointment of general john skrzynecki to the chief command.--proclamation.--prompt attention is given to the re-organization of the army, the arsenals and manufactories of arms, the fortifications, &c.--deportment of the commander in chief towards the army.--general enthusiasm of the nation.--the patriotic offers of the polish women.--new regulations established for conferring orders of merit.--disorderly state of the russian army.--attempt of diebitsch to bribe the polish soldiery.--general view of the encouraging circumstances of this epoch.--the insurrection in russia under yermolow.--view of the state of the polish forces when general skrzynecki took the chief command.--he presses the organization of the new forces.--their distribution and that of the general forces.--positions of the polish army and the detached corps.--russian position. after the memorable battle of grochow, fought on the th of february, before the walls of warsaw, a day on which we had defeated a force three times superior to our own, the prince radziwil made the passage of the vistula to warsaw and the left bank. the objects which he had in view in that movement we have already detailed. two battalions of infantry, with thirty-six pieces of artillery, were left to defend the fortifications of praga, on the right bank of the vistula opposite to and separated by a bridge from warsaw, and which were in the form of a horn-work, supported on each wing by the river. the army was disposed in the following manner upon the left bank. the cavalry were posted in positions a few miles above and below warsaw. the infantry and the artillery were either concentrated in warsaw, or were encamped near the city. upon receiving the resignation of prince radziwil, the national government proceeded to the choice of his successor, and on the th of february, , elected, by an unanimous voice, to the chief command of all the national forces, the hero of dobre, general john skrzynecki, a man of the most devoted patriotism, of great decision of character, and uncommon military talent. he was, above all, eminently possessed of that rapidity of _coup d'oeil_, that capacity of seizing conjunctures, which enabled him, in the midst of the most complicated movements, to perceive, and instantly to profit by, every advantage which offered itself. this general was, in the time of the russian government, and at the commencement of our revolution, colonel of the th regiment of infantry of the line, a regiment by which he was regarded with an almost filial attachment. on the enrollment of new forces, after the revolution had taken place, he was made general of brigade. in the month of january, before the commencement of the campaign, he was advanced to the rank of general of a division, and the command of the d division of infantry was confided to him, at the head of which division, as the reader already knows, he gained laurels in several brilliant actions. on the th, at mid-day, proclamation was made of the abdication of the prince radzivil, and the appointment of general skrzynecki, as commander in chief of the army. the nation to whom the great merit of this officer was already so well known, received this annunciation with the greatest satisfaction. no dissentient voice was heard. even the oldest generals in the service warmly applauded the choice. general skrzynecki, on receiving the chief command, addressed to the army, on the th of february, the following proclamation:-- 'soldiers and brethren! god has willed that, through your choice, i should be made the instrument of his providence in the important trust to which i have been designated. the senate, the chamber of deputies, and the national government have honored me with a difficult task, which i cannot worthily execute, but as your valor and constancy shall second me. soldiers! we have before us an enemy, proud of his former successes, of his strength in numbers, and of the influence which he exercises in europe. but if, in one point of view, his power appears formidable, on the other hand, the outrages with which the russian government have oppressed us, render that enemy so guilty in the eyes of god and of man, that, full of confidence in providence and the sacredness of our cause, we can boldly measure our strength with him. we have only to swear in our hearts that we will be faithful to that motto which we so often repeat, "to conquer or die for our country," and we shall surely serve as an example, in the annals of the world, of encouragement to the defenders of the sacred rights of the people. if we do not succeed in conquering our powerful enemy, we will not live to submit to him--to him who has violated in regard to us every obligation of good faith. there is enough of glory in the sacrifice which i call on you to make; and in this heroic career, and so full of danger, i offer you crowns of laurel. we shall be sure to gain them, if you will support me by your valor, your union, your subordination, and your promptitude in performing the orders which will be given you.' the first object upon which the attention of the general in chief was fixed, was the state of the army. even from the first hour of his investiture with the chief command, prompt and energetic orders and instructions were issued, to form new forces, to complete those which were already in a state of formation, and to fill up the ranks of the regiments which had suffered in the late engagements. during the dictatorship of chlopicki, and under the command of the prince radziwil, all the arrangements of the military administration were sluggishly attended to, as the reader is well aware. at the time of the battle of grochow there had been only ten thousand new infantry levied, and even this infantry was neither well organized nor armed; the only armament of the greater part of them consisted of pikes or pitchforks. it was the same with the new cavalry, of which the number at the time of that battle did not amount to more than three thousand six hundred: and even these forces were not formed by the exertions of the government, but were volunteers. in the arsenals the works were not conducted with promptitude. this department of the military administration had been made great account of on paper, but was in reality neglected. as we have before remarked, the time was occupied in useless diplomatic discussions, while the subject of the greatest importance--the armament of our forces, was lost sight of. general skrzynecki was well aware of this neglect, and soon gave a new aspect to these matters. from the st of march, in which he commenced the inspection of the arsenals, he was daily occupied with this duty, entering into all the details, (with which he was familiarly acquainted,) and infusing a new vigor and promptitude into this essential department of the military administration. in fact in the several manufactories of arms, six hundred musquets per day were soon made. the soldiers, who before had but rarely seen their commander, and to the greater part of whom indeed the former commander was personally unknown, were elated to meet their chief often among them, and their enthusiasm was augmented by the frequent words of encouragement with which he took every occasion to address them. general skrzynecki established a new regulation in respect to the conferring of orders of merit, which was, that none should be given either to the officers or the soldiers, but upon the expressed consent and approbation of the latter. by thus submitting the conferring of these honors to the judgment of the soldier, he encouraged his self-respect, destroyed the power of the personal influence of the generals, and added much to the value of those honors as a motive for exertion.[ ] the time at which skrzynecki received the chief command, was indeed a happy period with us, and enthusiasm was then at the very greatest height. no stronger evidence of this could be given, than the fact that the women of poland actually formed three companies of infantry, composed from their own sex.[ ] our army was victorious and full of energy, and being then at warsaw, it enjoyed all the conveniences which could be required by an army in a state of war. their arms of every kind were well constructed, and in good order. the russian army, on the other hand, was in a most disadvantageous situation. their number had been sensibly diminished, and was diminishing every day, from the difficulty of subsistence and shelter, situated as they were in the environs of praga which had been sacked and burnt by themselves. marshal diebitsch and his army began to be convinced, by the victories which had been gained over them, and the firm resistance which they had uniformly met, that they were fighting with a nation which had resolved to sacrifice every thing for liberty and independence, and that this war, which diebitsch expected, and even promised, to finish in a few weeks, would be long protracted, and presented to him as yet no hope of a fortunate issue. a certain degree of disorder also began to take place in the russian army, caused by the physical wants and the severe treatment to which the soldiers were subjected. their wounded and sick were left neglected, and were accumulated in great numbers in the ruined buildings of the half-burnt villages, exposed to the open air in the severe month of february. desertions too began to take place. every day, indeed, small parties of deserters, and among them even officers, arrived at warsaw. those men assured us that a smothered discontent pervaded the army. they stated that the soldiers had marched under the expectation that they were to act against the french and belgians, and not against the poles, whose revolution had been represented to them as merely the revolt of one or two regiments; and that, seeing the true state of things, great numbers of them desired even to unite with us, when a favorable moment should offer. these unfortunate men, who were in the most deplorable state, with tears in their eyes, addressed themselves to our soldiers in terms like these: 'dear poles, do you think that we willingly fight against you? what could we do? we were compelled to march against you by the force of blows. many of our brethren gave out, and, falling from exhaustion on the road, have died under the blows of the knout.' these deserters stated also that such a severity was exercised in the regulations of the camp, that some officers were shot, merely for having spoken on political subjects; and that it was strictly forbidden to any persons to assemble together to the number of three or four. such information satisfied us, that, although the russian army was strong in numbers, morally speaking, it was weak. our own army began soon to conceive high hopes, and to dream of victory under its brave chief.[ ] at this period, with the exception of prussia, who had publicly manifested her hostility to our cause, none of the great powers had directly injured us. austria was occupied with italy. from france and england the poles had even cherished hopes of a favorable interposition. from the former, especially, after the intelligence derived from the correspondence of the two ministers, lubecki and grabowski, found among the papers of constantine, which has been presented to the reader, (giving satisfactory evidence that russia was in preparation for a campaign against her, and showing that our cause was the cause of france,) we had certainly the right to cherish the strongest hopes. but more important still than all these circumstances, was the intelligence received of a revolution which had broken out in the russian department of orenburg, under the famous yermolow, and the point of concentration of which was to have been the town of samara, situated on the frontier of europe and asia. the highest expectations were entertained of the results of this movement, from our knowledge of the character of this celebrated general, and of his great influence, as one of that distinguished family of yermolow, perhaps the most influential in the empire, (which, in fact, cherishes pretensions to the throne,) and of the distinction which he had acquired as a bold and firm leader, in a service of many years. his proclamations to the russians, of which a few copies were found on the persons of their officers who were killed in the battle of grochow, were full of energy, and breathed the sentiments of a true republican--of one who calmly and dispassionately aims at the good of his country. these proclamations were published in all the gazettes of warsaw on the first of march.[ ] this general was for a long while governor of the provinces beyond the caucasus, abassia, migretia, imiretia, and georgia, provinces which were conquered from persia and turkey. besides possessing a great degree of military knowledge, yermolow was familiar with the duties of the civil administration. those provinces were happy under his government. he ameliorated the state of the commerce by which they were enriched. the city of tiflis, under him, rapidly increased to a great extent. that city became in fact a general depot of all the trade of armenia, persia, and turkey in asia. this general, who could have held a post of greater distinction, and nearer the throne, asked for this situation with the view to be removed as far as possible from that court which he despised, and the intrigues of which excited his abhorrence. out of the reach of its influence, he could follow the impulses of his heart, and labor for the happiness of his fellow men. but this separation was not enough; those intrigues passed the barrier of the caucasus to interrupt him in his benevolent labors. several commissions were sent to make inquiries into his administration in various departments. yermolow, to avoid these persecutions, sent in his resignation. general, now marshal paszkewiczh, filled his place. yermolow, on quitting his post, retired to his own estates in the government of orenburg, and lived there quietly in the bosom of his family. the breaking out of the revolutions of france, belgium, and at last that of poland, filled his heart with joy. he hoped that the time was near at hand, when the people would have security for their rights, and would emerge from the darkness into which despotism had plunged them. he commenced the revolution in his part of the empire, and (as we learnt at warsaw) sustained himself for a long while against the superior forces which were sent against him. he was not, however, sufficiently supported by the people, and was too isolated to continue hostilities. it is to be regretted, that he did not commence this movement in the provinces which border upon poland. a view of the state of the polish forces at the period of skrzynecki's appointment to the chief command. after the battle of grochow, the polish grand army was composed, as at the commencement of the war, of nine regiments of infantry, each consisting of three battalions. they amounted, after deducting the losses sustained during the campaign, to about , . the newly formed infantry, which was in the battle of grochow, amounted to about , ; from which are to be deducted about , lost in that battle. the whole force of infantry, then, amounted to , men. the cavalry was also composed of nine regiments, each comprising four squadrons; making, after the deduction of the losses by that battle, about , in all. the newly-formed cavalry, consisting of eighteen squadrons, can also be estimated, after the losses at grochow, at about , ; making, in all, , cavalry. the artillery was composed of ninety-six pieces of cannon. total of the grand army:--_infantry_, , . _cavalry_, , . _artillery_, pieces. the detached corps of general dwernicki consisted, at the beginning of the campaign, of one regiment of infantry, composed of three battalions, numbering, after the losses of the campaign, , men. the cavalry consisted of six squadrons, making, in all, about , . the artillery, consisting at first of but three pieces, augmented by seven pieces taken from the russians, amounted then to pieces. the small partizan corps under the command of colonel valentin, operating in the environs of pultusk, consisted of infantry and cavalry. the garrison of zamosc consisted of , infantry and eighty-four pieces of cannon. that of modlin, of , infantry and seventy-two pieces of cannon; and that of praga, of , infantry and thirty-six pieces of cannon. the total amount then, of disposable forces, (excluding, of course, the garrisons,) on the st of march, the day on which skrzynecki took the command, was,--_infantry_, , . _cavalry_, , . _artillery_, pieces. general skrzynecki renewed the arrangements of the dictator chlopicki, in regard to the organization of new forces. these were, that each department should furnish from to , infantry and , cavalry. when this arrangement was first made, four departments on the right bank of the vistula, were occupied by the enemy; viz. augustow, podlasia, lublin, and plock. besides the forces which these departments should furnish, general skrzynecki proposed to the nation, that in the other departments, on the left bank of the vistula, viz. mazovia, kalisz, sandomierz, and cracovia, a general levy should be made. these arrangements were executed with such promptitude, that six regiments of two battalions each, the formation of which had begun in december, and were but half formed on the st of march, were, by the th, in a complete state for service. those regiments were distributed among the four divisions of the grand army. in addition to these, four regiments of cavalry, of four squadrons each, were also formed; and in this manner, the army received a reinforcement of , infantry, among which were , volunteer chasseurs, and of , cavalry. these newly levied forces, besides being well equipped and in fine condition, were full of spirit and energy. when skrzynecki made the inspection of these new troops, they entreated of him to be led to the first fire. in addition to the above forces, general skrzynecki ordered the formation of eight regiments of infantry and four of cavalry, to be kept as a reserve to fill the ranks of the army as they should be wasted by the campaign. from this last body, was afterwards, (on the st of may,) formed a fifth division. the infantry of the grand army was distributed into four divisions. they were formed and commanded as follows:-- the st division, under general rybinski, consisted of four regiments. the d division, under general gielgud, three regiments. the d division, under general malachowski, four regiments. the th division, under general muhlberg, four regiments. the total of the four divisions was about , men. in this number are included the different small detachments of volunteers, who acted with the army. besides this infantry, was the national guard of warsaw, amounting to , men. the cavalry were also formed into four divisions, as follows. the st division, under the command of general uminski, squadrons. the d, under general lubinski, squadrons. the d, under general stryinski, squadrons. the th, which formed the reserve of squadrons, was under general pac. the whole force of cavalry amounted to about , . the construction and completion of the fortifications at warsaw and praga were not less actively pressed than the administration of the army; and, as the left bank of the vistula, on which warsaw is situated, commands the right, with praga and its environs, general skrzynecki placed on the left bank twelve pieces of cannon of pound calibre, on the heights of dynasow and zoliborz. this battery covered with its fire the neighboring plain, to the extent of a circle of three miles in diameter, and could overpower any battery which the enemy might open against praga. that town is divided into two parts, the first of which borders on the vistula, and formed the bridge-head of the position; the other part, which is more distant, was not fortified. this latter part was taken possession of by the russians, after the battle of grochow, and was burnt by them. to the inhabitants this was a disaster; but for our defence it was a most favorable circumstance, as it left the enemy's approach unprotected, and opened a range for our fire. general krukowiecki, who was appointed governor of warsaw, continued the works in the city and its suburbs with great activity. the rampart, which surrounds the city beyond the walls, had been constructed for a defence against musquetry only; but at several points, it was now made defensible against artillery. the ditch was considerably widened and deepened. beyond the ramparts, the city was surrounded by a chain of _lunettes_, placed in two lines, so as to alternate with each other, and afford a mutual support. the city itself was divided into six parts; each part being susceptible of an independent defence. the barricades in the streets were constructed with openings for the fire of the artillery, above which platforms were raised for the infantry. mines were also prepared in different parts of the city.[ ] the positions of the army, and of the different detached corps were as follows:--the infantry, the artillery, and the th division of cavalry of the grand army, were at warsaw and its environs. three divisions of cavalry were posted above and below the city, on the left bank of the vistula, whose duty it was to patrol the river, and to guard the communications between the fortress of modlin and kozienice. this chain of patrols, by watching the movements of the enemy, kept the grand army continually advised of his intentions, and in constant readiness to act against him, at any point which he might choose for attempting the passage of the vistula. the corps of general dwernicki was at pulawy. the plan of operations which had been assigned to him, and which, indeed, he had already put in execution, was to transfer the seat of hostilities to the right bank of the vistula, to hang over and harass the left wing of the enemy, to relieve the palatinate of lublin from his presence, and, in case of danger, to fall back to the fortress of zamosc, and from that point to act on the neighboring region, according as circumstances might indicate. colonel valentin was in the environs of pultusk, with his small corps of partizans. in concert with the garrison of modlin, he was to act on the right wing of the enemy, and hold in check all his manoeuvres upon plock. this concave line of operations, of which the extremities were at zamosc and modlin, and the centre at warsaw and praga, was strengthened by the vistula, which, although frozen, would not allow of a passage by the enemy in large bodies, or of the construction of a bridge, as the ice of the river was momentarily expected to break up. the position of the russian army was as follows. the right wing was at nowy-dwor, opposite to modlin. at jablonna, which is situated half way from praga to nowy-dwor, was placed a strong detachment. at praga were two divisions, one of infantry, and the other of cavalry, with twelve pieces of cannon, under the command of general giesmar. the greater body of the russian forces was between wawr and milosna; and with them was the head-quarters of diebitsch and constantine. their left wing occupied karczew, and their patrols extended themselves along the right bank of the river, as far as macieowice. footnotes: [footnote : this regulation led to an occasion for the exhibition of the firmness of general skrzynecki's character. on the very day of the issuing of the order, the general of division, szembek, brought in a report, in which he presented for decorations the names of several officers. general skrzynecki refused his application. general szembek, thinking himself injured by this refusal, addressed a letter to the general in chief, renewing his application, and adding that if it should not be granted, he would feel obliged to surrender his commission. general skrzynecki, far from being moved from the resolution which he had adopted, again promptly refused the request. szembek surrendered his commission. the whole nation regretted the loss of the valuable services of this officer, and under such circumstances. but in regretting their loss they applauded the firmness of general skrzynecki. the latter indeed felt this regret strongly, but on the other hand he was satisfied that he had done his duty. the opinion of most of the patriots was decidedly expressed against general szembek, who, upon such a point of personal feeling, could forget his duties to his country, and abandon the ranks of his fellow-soldiers, by whom he was held in high estimation. szembek indeed more than once reproached himself for the sacrifice which he had thus made. the following anecdote will show the degree to which general skrzynecki was beloved by the army, and the influence which his appointment to the chief command had on the minds of the soldiers. a soldier named golembiewski, of the th regiment of infantry, who had been wounded in the battle of boimie, had, on the st day of march, left the hospital convalescent, although his wounds were not entirely healed. skrzynecki, while inspecting the regiment, noticed him with his head still bandaged, and said to him, 'my dear comrade, why have you left the hospital in such a state? you had better return immediately.' the soldier answered, 'general, i have heard of your courage and your achievements, and how much you are beloved by the nation, and i could not refuse myself the satisfaction of being present at the first fire under your command, and in which i hope that the polish army will be victorious.' skrzynecki, embracing him, exclaimed, 'with such soldiers to command, i need have no fear that i shall fail to support the honor of my country.'] [footnote : the polish women, wishing to share the dangers and sufferings, and to witness the triumphs of their brethren, proposed to follow the example of the daughters of sparta, and to form three companies under the command of several ladies of the most distinguished families. they proposed to march upon the rear of the army, and when an action occurred, they were to advance to the aid of their countrymen. the first company, to be composed of the young and active, were to receive and carry off the wounded from the field of battle, thus at the same time animating the soldiers by their presence. the second company was to be placed near the vehicles in which the wounded were transported, there to receive and place them, and to dress their wounds. the third was to take charge of the provisions, the preparation of lint and bandages, and even of the washing of the clothing of the soldiers. these patriotic propositions, however, neither the nation nor the general in chief were willing to accept, considering that the fatigues of a campaign would be too trying to the female constitution. but to satisfy in some degree the noble impulses of these ladies, the three companies were distributed among the hospitals, to take care of the sick and wounded there.] [footnote : to satisfy the reader that marshal diebitsch had began to be conscious of his weakness, the following trifling circumstances will suffice. on the first day of march, two of our soldiers who had been made prisoners by the russians, returned to warsaw, and presented themselves to the general in chief. one of them, who was a galician volunteer, on the question being asked in what way they escaped, answered, that general diebitsch himself dismissed them with a present of four ducats each, enjoining them to make it known in the army, and to say that each soldier who should go over to the russians, would receive a like sum, and in addition to it a portion of land sufficient for his maintenance; and that moreover they should not be forced to enter the service of the army. he also assured them that if they should return with many of their comrades, to accept these terms, they should be made officers. 'dear general,' the galician added, 'we have sought your presence, in order to apprize you of these circumstances, and to place you upon your guard. the money which we have received, we request you to take as a contribution to the service of our country. we have no need of it; your care will provide for our wants, and our desires are limited to the satisfaction of fighting for the cause of our beloved country.' these brave soldiers were hailed with enthusiastic expressions of respect and affection by their comrades, and the circumstance was published in an order of the day, to the whole army. this adoption of such a system of intrigue and espionage indicated sufficiently the sense of weakness which marshal diebitsch began to feel, in the situation in which he was then placed. one of our generals published in the gazette some remarks upon this conduct of general diebitsch, from which the following is a passage. 'marshal! such conduct is reproachful to you; and by it, you have strengthened the current suspicions of the world, that the passage of the balkan, which has given you such a name in history, was made upon a bridge of gold. but if such measures might have been successful in turkey, they will not do in poland. if you do not by this time know it, i can assure you that every pole is willing to sacrifice his all in the cause of his country, and your offers can therefore avail little. i repeat to you, that the words of our motto are, "to die or conquer." come then, marshal, with the sabre, and not with ducats, to the contest!'] [footnote : _extract from the proclamation of yermolow._ 'brave sons of russia! an old man of seventy, who, the contemporary of four reigns, knows well his nation and its sovereigns, lifts his voice towards you, with a heart devoted to the good of his country. he wishes, in the decline of a life which has been agitated by the storms of despotism, to infuse into your hearts the sentiments of liberty, and to die a freeman. our complaints have been uttered in vain: our blood has been shed in vain. are these complaints the only arms worthy of the russian people? no! it is with the sword in hand, in the capital itself, on the field of battle, in the north and in the south, that you should claim your national liberty. the idols of despotism will fall before you. the books of the divine law will be opened. the czars will become the fathers of their people: we shall be no longer orphans and strangers upon our native soil. as the french and english have done, and even as the greeks, our brethren in jesus christ, have done, we will swear to conquer our liberty, and that achievement will immortalize us. nations less celebrated, and less populous than ours, surrounded by monarchs who have combined to destroy them, have arisen. their brave men have joined together. they hasten, at the call of their country, to defend their national liberty, by their arms and their acts of valor. the hour is come. god, who holds in his hands the fate of kings and people, will bless us. russians! break the chains of despotism! you have sworn fidelity to the czar, but he also has sworn to be our father. he has perjured himself, and we are therefore released from our oaths. respect nevertheless the person of the czar, for he is the anointed of the lord, and our sovereign. limit yourselves to a change of the form of the government, and demand a constitution. rise up, and the throne will tremble. but if the despot should attempt to arrest your enterprize by the aid of the accomplices upon whom he lavishes all his favors, forgetting that he is our monarch, and not theirs, and that he is the father of the great family of russians; it is then that it will be seen that the autocracy must cease to exist, that the russians long for liberty, that they can and will be free. yermolow. _samara, th of january, .'_] [footnote : in the construction of these works in the city and the environs, all the citizens engaged, without distinction of age or sex. one of the outworks received the name of the '_lunette_ of the women,' having been constructed wholly by the hands of the fair sex.] chapter xii. operations of the corps of general dwernicki against the russian corps under the prince of wirtemberg, in the palatinate of lublin.--battle of pulawy, and defeat of wirtemberg.--atrocities of that prince at pulawy.--pursuit of the enemy.--battle of kurow, and annihilation of wirtemberg's corps.--operations of colonel valentin, between modlin and pultusk.--a detachment of the enemy is surprised at nasielsk.--transports of provisions for the enemy from prussia taken.--successful skirmishes.--marshal diebitsch demands the capitulation of the fortress of modlin. reply of colonel leduchowski.--a detachment from the garrison of modlin attacks and defeats a russian force at serock.--general skrzynecki makes an offer of pacification on the basis of the concessions originally demanded by the poles.--this proposition is rejected and hostilities are recommenced.--reconnoissance upon the right bank of the vistula under jankowski and gielgud.--a russian corps under general witt is sent against dwernicki.--general uminski is sent against the russian guard.--first encounter.--the russian guard is compelled to leave their position for ostrolenka.--the guard evacuates ostrolenka to join the grand army. on the day after the battle of grochow, colonel lagowski fought with success at pulawy, at the head of a detachment from the corps of general dwernicki. the details of that combat are as follows: combat of pulawa. [_see plan_ xiii.] the prince of wirtemberg, having been beaten, as the reader has seen, by general dwernicki at swierza and nowawies, was forced to retreat rapidly in the direction of pulawy, and to repass the vistula, opposite that place. the ice of the river was, fortunately for him, still strong enough to admit of a passage upon its surface; but notwithstanding this advantage, he had been pursued by dwernicki so closely, through the whole of his line of retreat, that he daily lost great numbers of prisoners. it was on the night of the d of february, that this passage was made by the russians, and pulawy occupied by them. as the position of that place was strong and commanding, general dwernicki did not think it expedient to attack the enemy in front, who, although beaten, were still superior in force. he conceived the plan of passing the vistula, at a point at some distance below pulawy, and of making an attack upon the russian right wing. on the evening of the th, the brave colonel lagowski, with infantry and two squadrons of cavalry, passed the vistula (_p_). on reaching the opposite side of the river, he threw himself into the forests which surround pulawy. the position of lagowski would have been critical, if the russians had obtained intelligence of this manoeuvre; but they had no suspicions of it. colonel lagowski, expecting that general dwernicki would soon make a demonstration in front, left the forest, and approached the town, keeping up a brisk fire of skirmishers (_a_). the russians, surprised by this attack, directed against it as strong a fire of artillery (_f_) and infantry (_d_) as its suddenness would allow; but our light troops succeeded in approaching the town, and getting possession of several houses, keeping up a continued fire. the two squadrons of cavalry (_b_) which had been sent to attack the enemy in his rear, threw themselves upon him at the same time, with great impetuosity. the consternation of the russians became general, the greatest disorder soon followed, and a retreat was commenced, which was attended with the loss of several hundred men and horses, and four pieces of artillery. the enemy, in evacuating the town, set it on fire, to complete the barbarities which they had been practising. pulawy, a spot one of the most favored of nature, and perhaps presenting one of the finest scenes in europe, was soon a mass of ruins, the sight of which filled the bosom of every pole with regret and horror. those ruins, such indeed as the whole country is now filled with, evidences of the horrible barbarity of the russians, in recalling to the minds of the poles the lost beauty and magnificence of their country, will be a pledge of their eternal hatred of the despotism which authorized those ravages. [illustration: xiv. _p. _.] [illustration: _pulawy_ xiii. _p. _.] [illustration: _kurow_ xv] the russians had gained already a considerable distance from pulawy, before the corps of general dwernicki approached it, and, of course, the whole glory of that defeat is due to colonel lagowski.[ ] the corps of general dwernicki, after a short repose at pulawy, renewed the pursuit of the enemy on that night. in every part of their route the enemy's stragglers were continually falling into their hands. this corps overtook the enemy so soon, that in order to save himself from total destruction, he was forced to give battle. battle of kurow. (_see plans_ xiv _and_ xv.) general dwernicki, in his pursuit of wirtemberg, had the intention of effecting the destruction of this corps before they could reach lublin. to accomplish this object, he took advantage of the two roads (_g_, _g_) which lead from pulawy to lublin ( ). remaining himself with the greater part of his forces (_a_) upon the causeway which leads to lublin by konskawola ( ), kurow ( ), and markuszew ( ), he sent a small detachment (_b_) with two pieces of cannon by the other and smaller road, which, traversing the forest between belzyc and pulawy, presents a shorter and more direct route to lublin. this road had not been occupied by the enemy. colonel lagowski, who commanded this detachment, had instructions to follow out this road, and to keep up a constant communication with the superior force under general dwernicki. he was ordered to keep himself constantly abreast of the enemy (_d_). at the moment that he should hear the fire of our cannon, he was directed to hasten to the attack of the enemy on his left wing, or on his rear, as circumstances might direct. this manoeuvre was executed with the utmost punctuality. the enemy pressed in upon the causeway by the larger body under dwernicki, and thus forced to give battle, took a position upon the heights of the town of kurow, in doing which, his consternation or his inconsiderateness was such, that he neglected the ordinary means of security, and did not occupy the roads which centre at that place, not even that which it was of the utmost importance for him to occupy,--the one which leads from belzyc to pulawy; in fact, he had even neglected to send out reconnoissances on any side, supposing that our entire force was before him on the causeway. this battle commenced on the afternoon of the d of march, and continued only a few hours. general dwernicki, after reconnoitering the enemy's position, which was commanding, and strengthened in its front by sixteen pieces of cannon [(_f_), _pl._ xv,] thought it expedient to commence with a fire of skirmishers only (_a_), under cover of which he manoeuvred his cavalry (_b_) upon the russian wings, with the sole purpose of occupying the attention of the enemy until the detachment of colonel lagowski should make its appearance. the enemy, on the other hand, commenced a warm fire from his artillery, and threw forward his light troops (_d_) in every direction. some hours passed in this manner, the enemy attempting from time to time to force our position. but the hour of his destruction was approaching. general dwernicki perceiving, from an elevation of ground, the detachment of lagowski (a) advancing upon the enemy's rear, instantaneously gave orders for the cavalry to concentrate themselves. the signal for advance was then given, and the cavalry having formed on each side of the main road, pressed forward and fell upon the centre of the enemy. at the same moment, a charge was made by the cavalry of lagowski upon the enemy's rear. the disorder and consternation of the russian forces was indescribable. in a moment ten pieces of cannon, a thousand prisoners, some hundreds of horses, with many wagons of ammunition and baggage, fell into our hands. the route was general. the enemy fled pell-mell, and his loss was much increased by a fire of grape from the two pieces of artillery of colonel lagowski, which he placed by the side of the road from kurow to lublin, over which the russians retreated. this road was literally covered with dead. nothing but the coming on of night saved the enemy from entire destruction. after this battle, the forces of the prince of wirtemberg ceased to act as a corps. what remained of them, took the direction of lublin, where the corps of general dwernicki arrived the next day, having taken prisoners during the whole route. the prince of wirtemberg barely escaped from our hands, for he was in quarters in that city when our advanced detachments entered it, and was just able to save himself by flight. such was the end of this russian corps, which, when it began to act against dwernicki with his small force of , men, and ten pieces of cannon, consisted of , infantry and pieces of cannon. in the course of eleven days, general dwernicki gave battle to this corps four separate times, viz. at swierza, nowawies, pulawy, and kurow; and besides the loss he caused them in killed and wounded, he took , prisoners, pieces of cannon, besides , horses, with a great quantity of ammunition, baggage, &c. in all these actions the corps of general dwernicki lost but men, in killed and wounded. the panic which had began to prevail in the russian forces, in consequence of these disasters, reached such a degree that, at times, the mere sight of our troops was sufficient to put them to flight. the russian commander in chief deprived the prince of wirtemberg of his post, and his name was not heard of during the rest of the war. general dwernicki, by his victories over this corps, had completely freed the department of lublin from the presence of the enemy. on arriving at lublin, he restored the authority of the national government in that place, and the region about. he made the necessary arrangements for reinforcing his corps, and left for krasny-taw, in the environs of zamosc. while these successful operations of general dwernicki, in the southern part of the kingdom, were in progress, and by this series of victories, he was approaching the frontiers of wolhynia and podolia, our arms were not less successful in the north. the brave colonel valentin, with a small detachment of partizans, fought the enemy with success between modlin and pultusk. this detachment was thrown into that region, (acting, however, more particularly between the rivers wkra and orsyca,) in order to hold in check the operations of the enemy upon plock. this detachment was to obtain succor, in case of necessity, from the garrisons of modlin. it was especially destined to intercept the transports which were to come from prussia upon the road to mlara, for the relief of the russian army. colonel valentin was occupying with his detachment the forest near the town of nasielsk, when he was apprised that a small body of russian troops, under the order of colonel schindler, consisting of two regiments of cavalry, a battalion of infantry, and two pieces of cannon, had arrived on the d of march, at that town. this detachment had been sent to protect a transport which was to pass there. colonel valentin immediately formed a plan to attack it. during the night of the d and th of march, he approached the town, invested it, and ordered an attack, in which the detachment surprised the enemy, and forced him to quit the city, leaving his two pieces of artillery, and a number of prisoners. colonel valentin, thinking that the russians might possibly return with a superior force, evacuated the city, and took his prisoners to modlin, in order, by disembarrasing himself of them, to hasten his march and reach the environs of pultusk, in time to intercept the transport. on the th, he took this transport, consisting of eighty vehicles loaded with various kinds of provision, together with twelve loads of equipage, &c, for the russian generals, which he sent to warsaw. the detachment of colonel valentin continued to manoeuvre for a long while in those environs without any support. in the vicinity of warsaw, along the banks of the vistula, both above and below the city, small skirmishes almost daily occurred. on the fourth of march, the brave lieutenant berowski, passing the vistula opposite jablonna with his platoon, surprised a squadron of cossacks, and took a hundred prisoners and as many horses. the battalion of volunteer chasseurs of colonel grotus, posted in the environs of the villages siekierki, and wilanow, brought in, almost every day, parties of russian prisoners, by surprising the different detachments of the enemy placed upon the island of saxe, opposite to the above mentioned places. this same battalion burnt two batteaux, in which were a party of russian troops, who were sent during the night with combustibles to burn the bridge between warsaw and praga. these boats were sunk, and the russians who escaped drowning, were taken prisoners. in the environs of the small town of gora, about twenty miles from warsaw, a considerable body of workmen who were sent by the enemy to prepare the materials for building a bridge, were surprised by a battalion of the d regiment of light infantry. a hundred pioneers and sappers were taken prisoners, and many hundred male and female peasants set at liberty, who had been forced to work for the enemy. at about the th of march, marshal diebitsch demanded the capitulation of the fortress of modlin, for which object he despatched colonel kil. this officer was entrusted with a letter to the count leduchowski, written by the marshal's own hand. his proposition was rejected.[ ] some days after this answer, a part of the garrison of this fortress, sent as a reinforcement to colonel valentin, surprised the russians in the town of serock. they had passed the river bug, and the narew opposite that town, to make requisitions of forage in the country around. by a prompt arrangement, the batteaux of the enemy were taken by our troops; and his forces, suddenly attacked and defeated, were compelled to evacuate their position, leaving a thousand prisoners in our hands, which were immediately carried to modlin, and thence to warsaw. in this state of things, and while circumstances were continually occurring with uniform advantage to the polish arms, general skrzynecki, with the most sincere wish to finish a bloody struggle, and anxious to show that the poles were always ready to hold out the hand of reconciliation, wrote, with the permission of the provisional government, a communication to marshal diebitsch, with propositions of that purport. but as these offers of conciliation were rejected by the marshal, the contest was recommenced.[ ] on the th of march, the operations of the campaign were recommenced. the d division, the command of which, after the death of general zimirski, was given to general gielgud, and a division of cavalry, under the command of general jankowski, received orders to make a strong reconnoissance upon the right bank of the vistula. this division was ordered to pass the bridge in the night, and at break of day to commence the attack upon whatever force of the enemy they might find on the plains of grochow or kawenczyn, and, by this manoeuvre, to harass the right wing of the enemy. but general jankowski arrived late. it was near eight o'clock, a.m. before he approached with his division, at which time the two divisions united left praga to commence their attack, but this operation being thus retarded, could not be made effective. the enemy, seeing our movement, had time to prepare themselves to counteract it. our forces having advanced a mile or two upon the main road, commenced a fire of tirailleurs, and the enemy began to retire. as it was designed to act upon kawenczyn, a battalion was sent to attempt an attack on the forest of elders, well known to the reader; but as the enemy was quite strong at that point, and particularly in artillery, a fire from which was immediately opened upon our force, the attack was not made, and our battalion was ordered to withdraw. the russians, at about mid-day, began to show a stronger force upon the plains of wawr. their artillery, also, opened a fire upon the main road. this fire had continued an hour, when our generals, not perceiving that the artillery was protected by cavalry, decided to make a charge upon them with the regiment of mazurs, and the d regiment of light cavalry. this brigade of cavalry, under the command of the brave colonels blendowski and miller, threw themselves with courage upon that artillery, when, at the moment of the charge, two regiments of attaman cossacks, which were posted in a wood adjoining, displayed their front, and advanced to charge our cavalry upon the flank and rear. our attack therefore failed, and it was owing to good fortune alone that by a rapid bending of our flank, this body of cavalry was saved from total ruin. this unfortunate affair cost us a heavy loss of men, and of both of the brave colonels who commanded the attack. at about , p.m. as the enemy began to debouch from the great forest with increased forces, it was decided to return to warsaw, and thus ended this reconnoissance, which had it been executed by more skilful generals, might have had the best success, for all the russian regiments which had advanced towards praga, at a considerable distance from their main forces, might have been taken. a reprimand was publicly given to the two generals, gielgud and jankowski, for their remissness in executing their instructions. the only advantage which was gained by this reconnoissance, was the taking of a great quantity of fascines and other materials prepared for a storm of praga, and the collection from off the field of a considerable quantity of arms, which had been left there by the enemy, after the battle of the th.[ ] the russian commander having, as the reader is aware, lost nearly the whole of the corps of the prince wirtemberg, the remnants of which was dispersed and had wholly ceased active operations, sent against general dwernicki the corps of general witt, composed of , infantry, , cavalry, and pieces of cannon. this corps arrived on the th at lublin, in which town was a small detachment of dwernicki's corps, commanded by the colonel russyian. this small detachment, having only barricaded a few streets, defended with much firmness the passage of the small river bystrzyca, and left the city at nightfall to rejoin its corps, which was in the environs of zamosc. again the corps of the russian guard, which had recently arrived, under the command of prince michael, consisting of , infantry, , cavalry, and pieces of cannon, a division of cavalry, with eight pieces of cannon, was sent into the environs of pultusk, commanded by general uminski, who was to take under his command the detachment of colonel valentin, and acting in concert with the garrison of modlin, he was to occupy the attention of the enemy, in order that our main body should not be disturbed in the offensive operations which general skrzynecki had decided to adopt. general uminski arriving with his corps, met an advanced detachment of the russian guard in the environs of makow, composed of two regiments of hussars and eight pieces of cannon, who were sent forward as a party of observation in that vicinity. this was the first encounter with this celebrated guard. our cavalry waited impatiently for the moment to try their strength with them. two young regiments, one a regiment of krakus of podlasia, and the other the th hulans, entreated their general to be permitted to make the charge. general uminski observing that there was no stronger force near, ordered an immediate attack. our cavalry, on receiving the order, did not even give the enemy time to display his front, or to make use of his artillery; but rushed upon him with an impetuous charge, under which he was at once borne down. of one regiment of those hussars nearly a squadron were taken prisoners. this russian cavalry, which were in full rout, were pursued as far as the environs of magnuszewo. the enemy was not permitted to take position, and the pursuit was pressed with such rapidity, that they had not time to destroy the bridge which crosses the river orsyca, but were followed even to the environs of rozany, where they reached the position of their main body. general uminski, in order not to expose his force to the observation of the enemy, halted in an advantageous position in the forests near rozany, and from this position he continued to hold the enemy in check. in fact, by harassing and wearying the enemy with continual attacks, he at length forced the prince michael to quit rozany, taking the direction of ostrolenka. general uminski sent in pursuit of the enemy the brigade of cavalry under the command of colonel dembinski. this brigade, opposite ostrolenka upon the narew, had on the th of march an advantageous affair with the advanced guard of the enemy, in which forty prisoners were taken. by closely observing the enemy in this manner, it was ascertained that the russian guard, after destroying the bridge, had completely evacuated ostrolenka. it was evident that the design of prince michael, in this sudden evacuation of ostrolenka, was to join himself to the grand army. general uminski immediately sent an officer to inform the commander in chief of this movement, continuing in the mean time in the position which he had taken before ostrolenka. footnotes: [footnote : general dwernicki, on arriving at pulawy, regarded it as his first duty to repair to the palace of the princess czartoriski, the estimable lady of the president of the national senate, to offer his services to her, and to assure her of safety. on entering the court, the venerable dwernicki and the officers who accompanied him, could not restrain their tears at the sight of the ruins of that edifice, so uselessly destroyed, to gratify the brutality of the prince of wirtemberg, who pushed his fury to such a degree, as to have directed a fire of artillery against the central division of the palace, occupied at that moment by the princess and her attendants. general dwernicki and his officers, struck by the melancholy scene before them, feared to advance another step, in the dread of meeting even more horrible traces of barbarity,--to find perhaps the princess and her suite the victims of russian cruelty. but what was their astonishment, when, on entering the porch of the edifice, they were accosted by the princess, who with a cheerful air exclaimed: 'brave general, and officers! how happy am i, that god has allowed me to greet my brave countrymen once more, before my death.' then giving her hand to general dwernicki, and presenting to him and his officers the ladies who were her attendants during the whole of these horrible scenes, she continued, 'general, do not be astonished to see us accoutred in the best garments which the russians have left to us; we have arrayed ourselves in our funeral attire,'--and pointing to the holes with which the enemy's artillery had pierced the walls, she added, 'those marks will explain my language.' general dwernicki, struck with the heroism of the princess and her companions, addressed her in the following terms:--'madam, permit me, in the name of the whole nation, to make to you the homage of my high admiration. brave indeed ought poles to be, with mothers and sisters such as these!' he then urged upon the princess the expediency of leaving pulawa, which might still be the scene of distressing events, and upon this suggestion she departed under an escort furnished by general dwernicki, for her estates in galicia.] [footnote : the reader will perhaps be gratified with a short topographical description of this fortress, and some details of this affair. the fortress of modlin, which is in a pentagonal form, is situated sixteen miles from warsaw, upon the right bank of the vistula, at the junction of the narew with the former river. not far from this fortress, the small river wkra also joins the narew. the fortress is thus situated between three rivers. in addition to this peculiarity of its situation in regard to the rivers, its commanding elevation makes it a point of great strength. opposite to it is the small town of nowy-dwor, but this town is so low that it is commanded by the fortress, and it is besides too distant for the erection of batteries by which the latter could be bombarded with success. this post is very important in regard to tactics, and it is a key of position, to protect, or to act upon, all operations between the narew and the vistula. marshal diebitsch considering these circumstances, and seeing that an open attack was scarcely possible, was led to attempt negotiation. the letter sent by the marshal, was full of flattering language in regard to the heroism of the polish army. he permitted himself, however, to say that it was to be regretted that such a degree of heroism was not exhibited in a better cause--that the brave polish army was made a sacrifice of, by some ambitious and opinionated men, who had forgotten their duties to their monarch, and their oaths of fidelity. from such men as those, he wished to distinguish the count leduchowski, for whom he had the highest esteem, and who, he was convinced, had no desire to continue a useless expenditure of blood, and would willingly surrender the fortress to the troops of his legitimate monarch. to all this, marshal diebitsch added the assurance that the fortress should be garrisoned by equal bodies of russian and polish troops. colonel leduchowski made a reply to this complimentary communication in nearly the following terms:--'marshal, to your letter, in which you have chosen to flatter the valor of my countrymen, and in which you have honored me, in particular, with your attentions, i have the honor to answer, that i cannot better deserve your good opinion, than in defending, with my compatriots, our beloved country to the last drop of my blood. this is the course which the honor of each brave pole dictates to him.'] [footnote : this letter, written at the moment when our army was victorious, and when a revolution, ready to break out in all the polish provinces attached to russia, made the position of the russian army extremely dangerous, was couched in most conciliatory terms, having for its sole object the termination of a fraternal struggle. in this letter, the generalissimo sought to convince marshal diebitsch, that this was not a war undertaken on our part at the instigation of a few individuals, but that it was espoused by the whole nation, and that the people were forced to take up arms by the enormity of those acts of tyranny, which were not perhaps even known to the monarch. he urged him to consider the amount of blood which had been already shed, and the indefinite prolongation to which such a struggle might be extended. he urged him also, to make known these representations to the monarch, and to invite him to lay aside all enmity, to visit and hear in person the complaints of the nation, who would receive him with sincerity, and who demanded of him only the confirmation and observance of the rights granted by the constitution, and the extension of the same rights to our brethren in the russo-polish provinces. what an opportunity was here presented to the emperor nicholas to act with magnanimity, and to extend a conciliatory hand to the polish nation! those letters will be an eternal testimony, that the poles attempted every amicable means, to establish upon an equal basis their own happiness and civilization, and that of the whole north, and that all the responsibility of the bloody struggle which was continued, rests on the side of despotism.] [footnote : the following particulars will demonstrate to the reader how much even the enemy appreciated polish courage and devotedness. after this affair, our generalissimo, regretting much the loss of the brave colonel blendowski, who had fallen in his wounded state into the enemy's hands, sent a flag to general giesmar, the commander of the russian advanced guard, to propose an exchange, if colonel blendowski was still living, and if dead, to request that his body might be given up. at the moment that the officer bearing the flag, with a party of lancers, arrived at the russian quarters, he saw a body of russians with general giesmar, and his suite at their side, bearing a wounded officer, and advancing towards them. our officer, as they approached, recognized colonel blendowski in the wounded officer, and announced to general giesmar that it was to obtain him that he had been sent. on receiving this communication, general giesmar replied, 'you see, sir, that i had anticipated your object. make my intentions known to your commander, and let him know how much i honor polish heroism.' this general took part, with his own hand, in all the arrangements for transferring the wounded officer, and two of his suite were among those who bore his body.] chapter xiii. plan of general skrzynecki to act upon the isolated corps of rosen and giesmar.--battle of wawr.--various detachments of the enemy are taken after that battle, and a great number of prisoners.--battle of dembe-wielke.--destructive pursuit of the enemy by our cavalry.--view of the russian losses in the preceding days.--marshal diebitsch abandons his plan of crossing the vistula, and marches to the rescue of the remains of the corps of rosen and giesmar, and the imperial guard.--view of the position of the two armies, after the second repulse of the enemy from before warsaw.--operations of general dwernicki.--successes of a reconnoissance under colonel russyian at uscilog.--effect of dwernicki's victories on the inhabitants of the provinces.--acknowledgment of general dwernicki's services by the national government.--the instructions for his future operations. the news of this prompt and sudden evacuation of ostrolenka by the russian guard, and the evident intention of the grand duke michael to discontinue his operations in the palatinate of plock, and to make a junction with the grand army, as well as other certain intelligence that marshal diebitsch had withdrawn the main body of his forces, [_see_ (a) _plan_ xvi,] and had left only a corps of observation, composed of the two corps of rosen and giesmar (b), in the environs of wawr and milosna, determined our generalissimo to hasten to the execution of the plan, for a long time decided upon, which was to throw himself with his whole force upon the nearest russian corps, and to crush them before marshal diebitsch could come to their succor. on the th and th, our general in chief made a review of the greater part of the army. all the troops received him with expressions of the greatest enthusiasm. he could not but be delighted at the sight of that fine and energetic force, and be confident of the most brilliant successes. all the troops defiled before the general, carrying with them the trophies which they had taken from the enemy; and each platoon, as they passed, hailed him with some patriotic exclamation, and pledged themselves that they would never return without having satisfied his orders to the utmost. on the night of that day, the commanders of the several divisions received the order to hold themselves in readiness to march at a moment's warning. battle of wawr. [_see plan_ xvii.] on the evening of the th, the two divisions of infantry under rybinski and gielgud, and the brigade of cavalry under kicki, received orders to pass from warsaw to praga. that force quitted warsaw at ten o'clock, p.m. [illustration: _xvi. p. ._] [illustration: _xvii. p. ._] whilst the division of gielgud and the cavalry of kicki were to occupy the great road (_g_) leading to grochow, the st division under rybinski was to march upon the right wing of the enemy at kawenczyn (k). this last division was to drive the enemy from his position in as short a time as possible. if the enemy's forces at kawenczyn were found to be greatly superior to his own, general rybinski was directed to continue his fire, and await a reinforcement, which should be immediately sent to him. if he should be so fortunate as to take kawenczyn, general rybinski was to send, by a small road (_l_) leading from this place, through the forest, to milosna, a few battalions (_m_) to that village. other battalions (_d_) were to be dispersed in the forest, between that small road and the main road. having made those arrangements, the position of kawenczyn was to be vigorously defended, in order to baffle every effort of the enemy to retake it. the accurate and prompt execution of this plan was expected to effect the cutting off of all the enemy's forces, which were to be found upon the field of wawr. in regard to the division of gielgud upon the main road, the instructions given were that it should not commence its fire until apprised of general rybinski's having gained possession of kawenczyn. this division was till then to limit its attention to the object of retaining the enemy in his position near praga, long enough to give time for the corps of general rybinski to occupy the above mentioned forest, and to operate in the enemy's rear. the moment for the advance of the d division, was to be, when the fire of the light troops of rybinski should be heard in the forest. all these dispositions were executed with the greatest exactitude under the protection of a thick fog. the division of general rybinski having quitted praga at midnight, arrived as far as the environs of kawenczyn, without being in the least disturbed by the enemy. this skilful general had the precaution not to attack the enemy until an hour before day-break; in the interval, while resting in the woody ground near kawenczyn, he sent forward a patrol, with directions to approach near enough to ascertain, as far as practicable, the position, the strength, and the nature of the force of the enemy, and sent another patrol in the direction of the forest of elders to reconnoitre the enemy there. those patrols returned with the intelligence that the enemy's force could not be great, as they could perceive no large detachments placed as advanced posts. it was between five and six in the morning, when the first fire of general rybinski, at kawenczyn, gave notice to the d division of gielgud, at praga, that it was the time to advance. the brigade of cavalry under kicki, (_b_), with the d and th regiments of lancers, having with them three pieces of cannon, spread out their flankers, and advanced slowly, directed continually by the fire of general rybinski, who in the mean time had pushed two battalions at the charge, supported by a few pieces of artillery, and had carried the enemy's position by storm, and taken possession of kawenczyn. the enemy were instantly routed by this impetuous attack, and lost three pieces of cannon. the division passed through kawenczyn, sent two battalions (_m_) to milosna, occupied the forest (a) in the rear of the enemy's principal force, and commenced a fire. when this fire was heard by our forces (b) upon the main road, they pushed forward, and a general and rapid advance was commenced under cover of the thick fog. two regiments of cossack cavalry, (_h_), who were posted in columns near the obelisk of iron, were borne down before them. a great number of prisoners were taken on the spot. our brave lancers, under kicki, animated by this success, did not halt in their attack. they fell upon an advanced post of russian artillery of three pieces (_f_) near grochow, and took them before they had time to fire. by seven or eight o'clock, the enemy was entirely surrounded, and his retreat by milosna was wholly cut off. it was with the dissipation of the fog that we witnessed the confusion into which had been thrown the whole advanced guard of giesmar, composed of four regiments or sixteen battalions of infantry (_a_), eight squadrons of cavalry (_h_), and twenty-four pieces of cannon (_f_). the disorder of this advanced guard was such, that the russian battalions had actually been firing against each other, and that fire ceased only with the clearing up of the fog. the th and th russian regiments, amounting to , men, with all their officers and colors, were taken in a body, and with them the brigadier general lewandowski. if the fog had continued half an hour longer, so that we could have occupied the road to karczew, the whole of this advanced guard would have been taken; for what remained of them saved themselves only by flying along that road. this attack, which was the business of a few hours, forced the enemy to quit his advantageous position in the commanding forest, between wawr and milosna, which he had occupied for a month, and on which he had constructed considerable fortifications. driven from this important position, he could only expect to be subjected to still greater losses. at milosna ( ), three battalions of the enemy, with four pieces of cannon, placed as an isolated detachment, were dispersed, and their cannon taken. another isolated detachment of cavalry of hussars and cossacks of czarno-morskie, posted at janowek, met the same fate, and prisoners were taken in every direction. our two divisions pursued the enemy with unremitted celerity, and, followed by our main forces, reached dembe-wielke, at which place was the corps of general rosen, composed of about , men and pieces of cannon. battle of dembe-wielke. [_see plate_ xviii.] as the enemy occupied the heights (d) of dembe-wielke, on the side of the marsh opposite to our forces, which, to attack him, would have had to traverse the dyke (_k_) constructed over this marsh,--the commanders of the two divisions considered it expedient to await the arrival of our whole force, which approached some hours after. general skrzynecki, satisfied that an attack made, over the dyke, upon the commanding position of the enemy on the other side, in broad day, would cost too great a sacrifice of men, determined to amuse him by a constant fire of our skirmishers (_a_), who advanced as far as the marshy ground which divided the two armies would permit. a little before night, the general in chief ordered all the cavalry (_b_) to be brought together, and formed in columns of attack, with the two squadrons of carbiniers, under the brave colonel sznayder, at their head. at the approach of twilight, he ordered these columns to pass the dyke on a trot, and to throw themselves upon the enemy on the right and left, attacking with the sabre. while the cavalry was passing the dyke, the artillery (_c_) was to open a general fire, ceasing, however, when the passage of the dyke should be effected. the order was given, and this mass of cavalry, under the fire of the artillery, raised the hurrah, and passed the dyke with the rapidity of lightning, followed by our infantry, having at their head the brave th regiment. the enemy was in such consternation that he was not in a state to make a defence, and his whole battery was overthrown. full three thousand prisoners were taken, together with the entire battery, consisting of twelve pieces of cannon of large calibre, some fifty voitures of different kinds, as caissons of ammunition, baggage-wagons, &c, and a great number of horses.[ ] in a word, the corps of general rosen was completely broken up; the coming on of night, and the forests, alone saved them from total ruin. general rosen himself, with his suite, was pursued and was near being taken. all his equipage, consisting of three voitures, fell into our hands. thus ended the glorious th of march. the generalissimo, who was always in the advance, and who had personally arranged all the details of that day's operations, particularly at dembe, justified well the high opinion which the general officers and the army had entertained of him. the th of march placed his name high on the roll of distinguished leaders. on that memorable day, two russian corps, those of giesmar and rosen, were completely broken up. it cost the enemy, in dead, wounded and prisoners, full , men and pieces of cannon. on our side the loss was not more than killed and wounded. for the successes of that day general skrzynecki received from the government the order of the great cross of military merit. the general in chief was accompanied, during the actions, by prince adam czartoriski, and the members of the national government, berzykowski, and malachowski. [illustration: _xviii. p. _] [illustration: _xix. p. _] to follow up the pursuit [_see plan_ xix] of the fragments of the two russian corps, general skrzynecki designated the division of cavalry (a) under general lubinski, with a battery of light artillery. this detachment set out during the night, sending reconnoissances to the right and left, to see that the enemy did not prepare ambuscades. the army followed this advanced guard, which soon overtook the enemy (b), who was still in great disorder. infantry, cavalry, artillery, and vehicles, were mingled together, pressing their retreat. at each step, our cavalry took up prisoners. upon some positions the enemy attempted to make a stand, but every such attempt was thwarted, and he was carried along before our troops. this was the case in the position of minsk and of jendrzeiow, where two regiments of russian cavalry were routed by the second regiment of chasseurs. it was the same case in the forest of kaluszyn, where our artillery approached the russian rear-guard, and poured upon them a fire of grape, which scattered death among their ranks. the russians, being no longer in a state to make any stand whatever, fell into a panic, and commenced a general flight. they were pursued by general lubinski as far as kaluszyn, where night closed upon the scene of destruction. this day cost the enemy nearly as much as the preceding. besides their loss in dead and wounded, , prisoners fell into our hands, with three standards, four pieces of cannon, and a hundred vehicles of baggage, ammunition, &c,--in fact, the whole baggage of the corps. but the most agreeable success of our army, on that day, was the taking possession of the hospitals of minsk and jendrzeiow, in which as many as two hundred of our comrades were lying wounded. to witness the joy of those brave sufferers was recompense enough for all our fatigues. the impetuosity of our attack was such, that the enemy had not time to burn the magazines of milosna, minsk, and kaluszyn, which fell into our hands. to make a recapitulation of the loss of the enemy on those two days--it was as follows:--two of their generals, lewandowski and szuszerin, taken prisoners, with as many as sixty officers, of different grades, , soldiers in killed, wounded and prisoners; pieces of cannon, seven standards, , horses, a great quantity of different kinds of arms and implements, and as many as vehicles of various kinds. the disasters of these two russian corps were the cause of the abandonment of the plan which had been adopted by marshal diebitsch, of passing the vistula between pulawy and maceiowice, opposite kozienice, with the greater part of his army; and to execute which he had left his position on the latter days of march, and had reached the environs of ryk. [_see plan_ xvi.] the fear of losing those two corps, together with the guard, had led him to return in the direction of the town of kock, to afford them succor. after these days, so fortunate for us, in which the russian forces were again driven from before the walls of warsaw, the position of their army was as follows. their right wing, formed of the remains of the corps of giesmar and rosen, was at boimie; detachments being also placed in the environs of wengrow. the main body, under diebitsch, was at kock. his advanced posts extended to wodynie, seroczyn, and zelechow. the russian guard, which, as we have said, had formed the plan of joining their main body, and had left ostrolenka by the road through wengrow, was obliged, in consequence of the successes of our army, to abandon that plan, and to retire again to the environs of ostrolenka, where they now were posted. in the palatinate of lublin was the russian corps under general witt. the position of our army was as follows. our left wing was opposite boimie. it sent out its reconnoissances along the river kostrzyn, as far as grombkow, zimna-woda, and even beyond. the head-quarters of the general in chief were with the main body, at latowicz. our right wing was at siennica. its reconnoissances were sent out as far as zelechow, at which place was a detached corps, under the command of general pac. in this manner, the marshy rivers, kostrzyn and swider, covered our front. [_refer to plan_ vi.] general uminski, with his detached corps, was at rozany, in the palatinate of plock, opposed to the russian guard. in the environs of the fortress of zamosc in the palatinate of lublin, opposed to the russian corps of general witt, was the corps of general dwernicki. besides this, a small corps was placed in the environs of the town of granica, upon the left bank of the vistula, under the command of general sierawski. while the main forces were acting with such success, the two detached corps, under generals uminski and dwernicki, had also fought gloriously, and gained important advantages. the corps of general dwernicki spread terror in its vicinity, and the russians were compelled to send a new corps against him, under the command of general kreutz; so that the combined russian forces opposed to him amounted to , men. greatly superior as this force was, they did not dare to attack general dwernicki, who, reinforced every day by volunteers coming from galicia and volhynia, soon found himself at the head of men, and pieces of cannon. this corps, in concert with the garrison of zamosc, was sufficient to hold in check all the operations of the enemy in that quarter. on the th of march, general dwernicki sent a reconnoissance as far as the environs of uscilug, at which place a new russian corps, coming from turkey, was expected to arrive. this reconnoissance was composed of two battalions of infantry, one company of galician volunteers, three squadrons of cavalry, and four pieces of cannon. the commander of this force was the brave colonel russyian. the detachment arrived at the above place, and received intelligence of the approach of an advanced guard of the corps of general rudiger, composed of two regiments or six battalions of infantry, one regiment of cossacks, and eight pieces of cannon. colonel russyian did not stay for the approach of this guard. he took possession of the different batteaux which were prepared for, and were waiting the arrival of the russian force at the distance of a league from the town. passing the river bug, with his corps, in these boats, he suddenly attacked the russian advanced guard with such success, that he took two thousand prisoners, and six pieces of cannon, and several hundred horses. with these trophies he returned and joined the corps, to their astonishment, for they had received but a single report from him, and had no expectation of such results. the rumor of the continual successes of this corps of general dwernicki, spread along the borders of the dnieper, reached the distant regions of our brethren in the ukraine, and awakened in them an ardent desire to unite themselves to our cause. for the continued and glorious advantages of this corps, which commenced its operations with , infantry, cavalry, and three pieces of cannon, and had nearly destroyed two russian corps, those of kreutz and wirtemberg, taking , prisoners, and thirty pieces of cannon, the national government promoted its brave commander to the rank of full general of cavalry, and honored him with the surname of the famous czarnecki, the ancient polish chief.[ ] the general in chief communicated to general dwernicki his promotion, with the sincere thanks of the national government; and at the same time sent him instructions and advice in regard to the operations which he was then to follow. the corps of general dwernicki was to manoeuvre in such a manner as to menace continually the left wing of the russian grand army. keeping this object in view, he was not, unless with the expectation of some very extraordinary advantages, to remove himself very far from the fortress of zamosc. this place was to serve as a _point d'appui_ in every case of sudden danger. about this point he was to manoeuvre, and from thence he was to push himself, as circumstances might allow, into the environs of lublin and wlodawa, to trouble incessantly the above mentioned wing, and even the rear of the russian grand army. in this instruction of keeping himself near the fortress of zamosc, and in the palatinate of lublin generally, another advantage was contemplated: viz. that he might receive daily accessions of volunteers from volhynia and podolia. our brethren, in those provinces, would hasten to join themselves to his victorious eagles, (of which disposition, indeed, he received continual evidence,) and, in this manner his corps would be gradually increased by such aid from those provinces, without attracting the attention of the enemy. as the provinces of volhynia and podolia, from their geographical character, having no large forests, were not in a state to carry on a partizan warfare, as was quite practicable in lithuania and samogitia, and also as the russians had several corps upon the frontiers of turkey, which, by being concentrated in that open country, might be dangerous to our small forces, general skrzynecki was of the opinion that general dwernicki, by keeping near the frontiers of the above mentioned provinces, should rather act by a moral influence upon their inhabitants, than hazard certain advantages by entering them. the river wieprz was to be the leaning point of his left wing, and the river bug of his right. between those two rivers, in a woody and marshy region, he would find many strong natural positions. of such he would take advantage, and endeavor to strengthen them by different fortifications. general dwernicki, in receiving these instructions, was also invested with full powers, by the national government, to institute a provisional administration over the above provinces, (in case that circumstances should lead him to establish a footing there,) similar to that of the kingdom in general, and to bring them into a state to act with effect in concert with the rest of the kingdom. footnotes: [footnote : the horses taken on that day, and at the battle of wawr, were employed to mount the entire new regiment of the lancers of augustow.] [footnote : general dwernicki, who received, among other titles, that also of the 'provider of cannon,' used his cavalry so constantly in the charge upon artillery, that if the artillery of the enemy began its fire, and the charge was not ordered, our cavalry were always disappointed. this was the case at the battle of kurow, on the d of march. as the enemy in that battle had placed his artillery in a commanding position, and as general dwernicki was awaiting the arrival of detachments under colonel lagowski, in the direction of belzge, he was not disposed then to give the order for a charge, but preferred to amuse the enemy by various manoeuvres of his cavalry. passing down the front of his lancers, he observed that they wore a look of dissatisfaction. on noticing this, he was astonished, and demanded an explanation. 'what does this mean, my dear comrades?' said he; 'you are sad at a moment when, after so many victories, you ought to be joyful.' the lancers replied--'dear general, it is an hour since the enemy's artillery commenced their fire, and you do not allow us to charge upon them.' the general, smiling, answered, 'make yourselves content; you shall soon have that satisfaction;'--and in a short time, as the reader will remember, general dwernicki, seeing the detachment of colonel lagowski approaching, gave the order for an attack upon the enemy's artillery, and in a moment they were driven from their position, sabred, and ten pieces of their cannon taken. the russians, to whom the name of dwernicki was a terror, would speak of him in the following manner: 'what can we make of such a general? he performs no manoeuvres, and never permits our artillery to fire. his generalship appears to lie only in taking possession at once of our cannon!'] chapter xiv. the insurrection in lithuania.--dispositions of the lithuanians at the breaking out of our revolution.--their offers of co-operation were rejected by the dictator.--view of the condition of lithuania under the russian sway.--scheme of the russian government to destroy all polish national feeling in that province.--the insurrection is brought about by the massacre of the patriots at osmiany.--capture of numerous towns by the insurgents, and dispersion of their garrisons.--storm of wilno, and delivery of prisoners.--several partizan corps are formed.--their destination and successes. it had pleased providence thus far to make the success of our arms, in every point, a just chastisement of our enemy, and encouraged by this success, the nation had begun to cherish the brightest hopes for the future. their confidence and exultation were complete, when the report was received, that our brethren in lithuania and samogitia had risen to break the yoke of despotism, and had openly commenced a revolution. the certain confirmation of this happy intelligence was brought to the kingdom by one of the students of the university of wilno. this brave young man belonged to the patriotic club which had been secretly formed there, and that club had sent him to warsaw to carry the authentic intelligence of the insurrection.[ ] then it was, at last, that the voice of liberty was heard upon the shores of the baltic, and at the sources of the dwina and the niemen; and with this voice, was heard that of union with ancient poland. the brave inhabitants of this immense region, animated with an attachment for us, the strength of which ages had proved, regarded themselves only as a part of one great family with ourselves. almost within hearing of the bloody combats which had been fought, they could not restrain themselves from joining in the struggle, and acting side by side with us, for our common poland. before i enter upon the details of this revolution in lithuania, the reader will permit me to refer him, in the appendix, to a short description of that country and a view of its connection with poland, which is, in general, so imperfectly understood. the lithuanians of wilno knew, four days after the th of november, that warsaw had given the signal of a new polish insurrection. a deputation was immediately sent by them to the dictator chlopicki, announcing to him _that all lithuania, and particularly the lithuanian corps d'armee, of , strong, was ready to pass to the side of the poles_. but that inexplicable and lamentable dictatorship _rejected this offer_, so great and so generous. the lithuanians, however, not despairing, waited for a more propitious moment; and scarcely was the dictatorship abolished, when the national government,--thanks to the thoughtful care of joachim lelewell,--addressed itself officially to the lithuanian committee. every disposition was made for a rising at an appointed time, which at length arrived. it would not be in my power to give the reader a just idea of the tyranny and persecution to which the polish provinces united to russia were subjected. if the kingdom was oppressed, it has always had some glimmer of constitutional right, but in the provinces the only constitution was absolute power. those provinces, abounding in resources, and which, had they been protected by free laws, would have been, as they formerly were, the granary of europe, presented every where traces of misery, being exposed to the abuses of the russian administration and its agents, who wrung them to the last drop, to enrich themselves. justice was unknown. sometimes the governors, or sprawnaks, men of most depraved conduct, changed the laws at their own will, and not to obey that will was to be subject to be sent into siberia. all those provinces were submerged by the russian military, who were quartered in every village; and those soldiers, receiving only the small compensation of a groat a day, which was altogether insufficient for their subsistence, levied upon the inhabitants the means of their support. but the cause of the greatest suffering in lithuania, was, that, in order to prevent all sympathy between the soldiers and peasantry, and all national feeling in the lithuanian soldiers, most of the levies from that province were sent to serve on the barbarian frontiers of asia, while russian soldiers were substituted for them, who were without any sympathy with the inhabitants, and who would be regardless of their feelings in their deportment towards them, and merciless in their exactions. it was not so under alexander,--the arrangement was made by nicholas. no idea can be given of the distress which it caused. many a family was obliged to deny themselves their necessary food, to supply the demands of the military tyrant who was quartered upon them. the peasantry in those provinces were treated like brutes. no civilization, not the least glimmer of light, not a school was permitted. that poor race were kept in a state so degraded, that the elements of civilization seemed to be lost in them, and the possibility of their being recovered seemed almost hopeless. one of the greatest evils was the systematic endeavor to destroy all national sympathy with poland. the russians carried their oppression, indeed, so far, as to change the religion of the country, and to introduce the greek schism. but through all these persecutions, providence saved that people from losing their national sentiments as poles. on the contrary, they have proved that neither time nor persecutions will ever destroy that attachment, but will, indeed, rather strengthen it. the late insurrections in lithuania and samogitia, which have been so long under the russian government, and the inhabitants of which hastened to take up their arms, at the signal of our revolution, afford a sufficient evidence of this attachment. what deserves especially to be noticed, is, that in lithuania, it was the peasants and the priests, joined by the youths of the academies, who first began the revolt, and who were the most zealous defenders of the common cause. that heroic people commenced the revolution without any munitions, and without any arms but the implements of husbandry. armed in most cases with clubs alone, they abandoned all to unite in our aid, and fought with courage and success for nearly two months, against the different russian corps, before the corps of gielgud and chlapowski arrived, which, instead of succoring them, by the misconduct of their generals, sacrificed the lithuanians, as well as themselves, and gave the first downward impulse to our cause. the insurrection of lithuania and samogitia, was propagated with rapidity through all the departments of those provinces. the commencement was made in the departments of osmiany and troki, accelerated by the following circumstance. many of the patriots, for the purpose of consulting upon the different arrangements for the revolt, had secretly assembled on the last of march at osmiany, and held their secret conferences in the church of the place. while occupied in this manner, a loud shouting was heard in the town. a regiment of cossacks had entered the place, and a great part of the regiment surrounded the church. the doors were broken down, and the cossacks entered and sabred the unfortunate men within these sacred walls. wounded as they were, those who survived the attack were thrown into wagons to be carried to wilno. but in this the barbarians did not succeed. a few escaped from their bloody hands, ran into the suburbs of the town and collected the peasantry, and on that very night, some hundreds of the inhabitants having been got together, osmiany was attacked with the greatest fury by the patriots. several hundreds of cossacks were massacred. the others took flight, and the poor prisoners were delivered. from that moment the flame spread to the departments of wilno, wilkomierz, rosseyny, and szawla. in a few weeks, more than twelve towns were taken by storm, and the russian garrisons driven out and dispersed. the principal of these towns were jarbourg, szawla, keydany, wilkomierz, kowno, troki, swienciany, rosienice, and beysagola. in a short time, more than a thousand russians fell under the blows of the lithuanians, and another thousand were taken prisoners. the lithuanians accoutred themselves with their arms. some hundred horses, and several pieces of cannon were also taken. the most bloody affair was the storm of wilno, on the night of the th of april. two hundred lithuanians attacked this town, and fought with , russian infantry, (nearly two regiments,) six squadrons of cavalry, and twelve pieces of cannon. for the whole night, the lithuanians pressed their attack with fury. they took the powder magazine and arsenal, where they found many arms. but the most consolatory success was, the rescuing of some hundred patriotic students, and proprietors, who had been confined in prison there for years. the battle of keydany and szerwinty was also severe, and the valor of the brave lithuanians was equally displayed there. at keydany, twenty of the brave youths of the academy defended the bridge over the niewiaza, against two squadrons of cavalry, while, on the other side, some hundreds of those brave youths made a storm upon the city, and routed the garrison, which consisted of three squadrons of hussars. in a word, not quite , lithuanians, armed in the most defective manner, commenced the struggle, and drove out garrisons to the amount of eight or ten thousand russian regular troops, spreading consternation throughout the whole of the enormous space between the dwina and the niemen. their numbers were soon augmented, and armed with weapons taken from the russians. their forces were afterwards divided into several small detached partizan corps, which received the following destination. st, the corps under the command of b***, consisting of about , infantry and horse, was to observe the territory upon the russian frontier, between jarbourg, upon the niemen, as far as the frontier of courland. this corps was to interrupt the transport of provisions, from the russian territory, and also to keep a communication between the ports of the baltic sea, lipawa and polonga, so as to secure a correspondence with foreign vessels which might arrive with ammunition and other aid for poland. the d corps consisted of about , infantry, under the command of p***, and z***, and were to act between uceamy and dawgeliszki. there this corps of partizans was to profit by the strong positions which the nature of the country offers, among its lakes and forests. this corps was to observe the great road which leads through that country from st petersburgh to warsaw, and to surprise and attack all the russian detachments which might pass that road, on their way to poland. to act in communication with this corps, and against the garrison of wilno, was designated a d corps, under the command of m***, composed of nearly , infantry and cavalry. this corps made itself severely felt. a fourth small detachment, under the command of b***, of about strong, acted in the department of grodno, and occupied a part of the forest of bialowiez. besides these, was a detachment of horse, under the command of v***. this detachment was constantly in movement, and kept open the communications between the other corps, and acted as occasion required. it was especially to attempt to surprise the enemy's artillery, which was often sent in an unprotected state. this detachment of cavalry, with the first named corps under the command of b***, attacked so sudden and vigorously the russian corps under the command of general szyrman, that they were forced to take refuge upon the prussian territory at memel. the prussians received them, and afterwards permitted them to leave with their arms and ammunition. this was not the first nor the last example of such relief afforded to our enemy by prussia. the insurrections of lithuania and samogitia, which had begun so successfully and promised to extend even to the borders of the dnieper and the black sea, could not but threaten the utmost danger to the russian forces which had entered the kingdom, and it was from this moment that the situation of the enemy became in a high degree critical, as every military judge will perceive. the danger of their position was still more to be augmented by our success in the battle of iganie, on the th of april. footnotes: [footnote : the young lithuanian, whose name was szymanski, had passed, on foot, two hundred and eighty miles in eight days, in the vilest habit of a beggar, and even without shoes, through forests, marshes, and fords, to avoid interception, exposed in fact to every kind of privation. he arrived on the th of april, at the camp of the generalissimo, at jendrzeiow, where he was received with great enthusiasm. he was immediately sent to warsaw, to announce the happy intelligence to the people.] chapter xv. plan of operation against the two corps of rosen and kreutz.--battle of iganie.--reflections on the state of the polish cause after the victory of iganie.--review of the course of the campaign.--condition of the russian army.--discontents in russia.--representations of the senate at st petersburgh to the emperor.--comparative view of the forces of the two armies at the present stage of the conflict. marshal diebitsch, as is known to the reader, was forced, by our victories of the st of march and the st of april, to abandon his plan of passing the vistula opposite to kozienice, and to think of nothing farther at present, than of saving the two corps of rosen and giesmar, and the guard. he was so far separated from them while between kock and ryk, where he then was, that by a prompt diversion on our part, by lukow, he might have lost those corps, and it was in fear of this, that he hastened to arrive as soon as possible to their succor at siedlce. our general in chief thought to anticipate this movement, and to throw himself upon the combined corps of giesmar and rosen, before diebitsch should reach them.[ ] [illustration: _xx. p _] [illustration: _xxi. p. _] battle of iganie. [_see plans_ xx _and_ xxi.] on the th of april, the russian army was nearly in the same position as we have last described them. the main body, under marshal diebitsch, were in the environs of kock, and the combined corps of rosen and giesmar [_plan_ xx, (_a_)], were upon the small river kostrzyn (_b_), at boimie. our army also had not changed its position. the following were the dispositions for the attack. the reader, on examining the plan, will see that the two corps opposed to our forces, which were at latowicz (_c_), were too far advanced, which exposed them to be turned on their left wing, and even taken in the rear, if our forces there should succeed in driving back the forces (_e_) of the enemy on the road (_d_) from latowicz by wodynie to siedlce. to execute this movement the order was given that when the first division of infantry (_f_), supported by twenty-four pieces of cannon, should commence the attack upon the great road opposite boimie, the third division (_g_), having with them the brigade of cavalry of kicki, should leave the position at latowicz before day-break, and take the direction of wodynie, to attack the forces which it might find there; but if those forces should be found greatly superior, the division was to remain in a strong position at jeruzalem (_h_). if it should succeed in driving back the enemy's forces, it was to take the road on the left, leading from wodynie through iganie (_i_) to siedlce. every effort was to be directed to the point of arriving as soon as possible upon the dyke (_k_) at iganie, which leads over the marshes of the river sucha (_l_). by a prompt manoeuvre of this kind, the enemy could not, as we have said, escape being turned. for the better execution of this plan, the enemy was to be harassed on the main road, in order that general prondzynski, who was to command the expedition to wodynie, might have time to manoeuvre upon the enemy's flank. a division of cavalry (_m_), under the command of general stryinski, was to leave boimie, and take a direction on the left, towards the village of gruszki, to pass there the fords of the river kostrzyn, and in case of the retreat of the enemy, to fall upon his right wing. having issued these instructions, and confided the command of the little corps which was to act upon the enemy's left wing at wodynie, to general prondzynski, the general in chief left himself for boimie, to lead the attack in person upon the main road. as was the case in the position at boimie, [_refer to plan_ ii,] we were separated from the enemy by the marshes of the river kostrzyn. the two ruined bridges upon the dyke not permitting either ourselves or the enemy to pass, general skrzynecki contented himself with opening a fire of artillery upon the russian position, in order to occupy the attention of the enemy, while preparations were making to repair the bridges sufficiently to admit a passage. the moment that the work of reconstructing the bridges was to be put in execution, was to be decided by the time and the direction in which the fire of general prondzynski should be heard. if the latter general should succeed on the enemy's flank, then, of course, the bridges were to be reconstructed, if not, they were to remain in their present state to obstruct the passage of the enemy. several hours were occupied by this fire of artillery, and slight manoeuvres of the light troops, when at last, between eight and nine o'clock, the fire of general prondzynski was heard, who had evidently passed wodynie, and had begun acting on the enemy's flank. this was the signal to commence repairing the bridges. general skrzynecki, with his suite, superintended the work, and several battalions were employed in bringing together the materials. a degree of consternation was observed in the enemy's forces, in consequence of the attack on his flank, and his columns began a movement; but his artillery continued in their position, and commenced a terrible fire upon our men who were engaged in reconstructing the bridges. the presence of mind, however, of the general in chief, who exposed himself at the most dangerous points, encouraged the men to persevere in their labors under this destructive fire of artillery.[ ] when the fire on his flank was at its height, the enemy began to withdraw his artillery, and commenced a retreat. by between and o'clock no part of the enemy's forces were remaining upon the plain of boimie; but, although the work of repairing the bridges was pressed to the utmost, it was near two o'clock before they could be brought to such a state as to admit the passage of artillery; and although several battalions of the infantry had passed over before this, they were not able, without too much exposure, to overtake the enemy, who was in rapid retreat, leaving his cavalry as a rear guard. it was not until the last mentioned hour, that the whole division passed the bridges, and pressed forward at a rapid pace in the pursuit, the cavalry advancing upon the trot. while this was taking place upon the great road to boimie, general prondzynski [_plan_ xxi, (a),] who, according to his instructions, advanced to wodynie, found there a division of sixteen squadrons of russian cavalry, whom he drove from their position: he pursued them in the direction of siedlce, and reached the environs of iganie, where he saw the corps of rosen and giesmar (b) in full retreat. at this moment the position of general prondzynski was also critical; for, as the reader is already aware, our main army was not in a condition to follow the enemy, on account of the obstruction from the broken bridges. if the enemy had thrown himself upon prondzynski, they could have crushed him, and with their other forces could have safely passed the dyke (_a_) at iganie, before our main forces, retarded as they were, could have arrived. this danger was perceived by prondzynski, and he therefore contented himself with driving the division of russian cavalry (c) from a position they had taken upon the heights of iganie, (a task which was bravely executed by the cavalry of kicki, and in which the colonel mycielski was wounded) and occupying that position himself, placing there the brigade of romarino to defend it. it was between four and five o'clock that prondzynski first perceived our lancers (d) advancing upon the main road. a great part of the enemy, particularly of their cavalry, had not yet passed the dyke (_a_), being obstructed by their artillery. generals prondzynski and romarino, dismounting from their horses, with carbines in their hands, placed themselves at the head of their columns, and commenced a fire of artillery, to apprize our advancing cavalry of their position. at the sound of this fire, the cavalry of lubinski raised the hurrah, rushed forward, and as they approached near the brigade of romarino, threw themselves at the charge upon that portion of the enemy's rear guard which had not yet passed the dyke. our infantry and cavalry thus fell simultaneously upon them, the enemy were terribly cut up, and the battle was gained. nearly five russian battalions, amounting to , men, with their officers, amounting to near one hundred, their standards, and eight pieces of cannon of large calibre, were taken. six regiments of cavalry were dispersed, many of them were lost in the marshes of the river into which they were driven, and several hundred men and horse were taken prisoners there. in this battle, which may be counted one of the finest in the campaign, the circumstance that our main force was retarded by the state of the bridges, alone saved the enemy from total ruin. it is to be remarked that the d division of cavalry of general stryinski, did not improve its time, and effected nothing upon the right flank of the enemy, as the instructions contemplated. the negligence of that general was inexcusable, and the commander in chief deprived him of his command. we lost in this battle about five hundred men, in killed and wounded. the brave general prondzynski was slightly wounded. before night the two armies were not at the distance of a cannon-shot from each other, but all was tranquil. the disorder and consternation of the enemy may be imagined, when it is stated that our columns took position before their eyes, on the field of iganie, without being in the least disturbed by them. the reader will permit me to fix his attention upon the epoch of the battle of iganie, which was indeed the brightest moment of our war, the moment of the highest success of the polish arms, the moment of the most confident hopes, when every pole in imagination saw his country already restored to her ancient glory. let us then, from this point, cast a look backwards to the commencement of this terrible contest. two months before, an enormous russian force had invaded our country, defended as it was by a mere handful of her sons; and any one who had seen that immense army enter upon our soil, could not but have looked on poland with commiseration, as about to be instantaneously annihilated. in this expectation, in fact, all europe looked on, and at every moment the world expected to hear of the terrible catastrophe,--to see poland again in chains, and the russian arms reposing on the borders of the rhine. such, in fact, were the expectations and even the promises of marshal diebitsch. providence, however, willed otherwise. the first shock of the polish arms with the russians taught the latter what was the moral strength of patriotism,--what a nation can do for love of country and of liberty. the fields of siedlce, dobre, and stoczek, the first witnesses of our triumphs, and the grave of so many of our enemies, taught them to respect the nation which they expected to subdue, made them repent the audacity of having passed our frontiers, and gave them a terrible presage of how dearly they would have to pay for this unjust invasion of our soil. battle upon battle was given, in which the enemy were uniformly subjected to the severest losses. the two great roads leading from different directions to warsaw, on which they had followed the poles, were covered with their dead. thus subjected to loss at every step, the enemy reached at last the field of praga, and there collecting all his forces in one body, under a tremendous fire of artillery he thought to overpower our small forces. but he failed to do it. the immortal day of the th of february was nearly the destruction of his enormous force, and, after fifteen days of severe fighting, that great army, which was designed to destroy poland and to make europe tremble, was brought to a state of extremity. the autocrat and his general blushed at the menaces which they had uttered. poland believed that the former would reflect upon those bloody struggles and the immense losses which he had suffered, and would be unwilling to continue such sacrifices. nearly , russians were already sacrificed. how many more lives might he not still lose? the poles, although conquerors, held out the hand of reconciliation, as the letters that skrzynecki addressed to diebitsch have proved. in those letters, written with the utmost cordiality, frankness, and directness, he invited the russian commander to present the real state of things to the monarch, and to assure him that the poles longed to put an end to this fraternal struggle. a word of justice, of good will, indicative of a disposition to act for the happiness of the nation, and to observe the privileges which the constitution granted,--a word of this nature, from the lips of the monarch, would have disarmed the poles, blood would have ceased to flow, and those arms outstretched for the fight, would have thrown away the sabre, and would have been extended towards him as to a father,--to him, the author of a happy reconciliation. he would have been immortalized in history, and would have taken a place by the side of titus. far, however, from that true and noble course, that proud autocrat, as well as his servant, diebitsch, thought little of the thousands of human beings he was sacrificing:--far from such magnanimous conduct, he sent for other thousands to be sacrificed, to gratify his arrogance and ambition. he contrives new plans to pass the vistula. it was not enough to have covered four palatinates with ruin on one side of that river. he determines to spread devastation and ruin upon the other also:--in fine, to attack warsaw, and bury in its own ruins that beautiful capital, the residence of the successors of piast and jagellow, and where he himself could have reigned in tranquillity, by only having been just and good. in the execution of this plan of destruction, he was arrested and justly punished upon the glorious days of the st of march and the st of april, which, in conjunction with the recent revolutions in lithuania and samogitia, and the recent battle of iganie, seemed to threaten the ruin of his army. the russian army was now in a state of the greatest disaffection, being posted in a devastated country, and having their resources for subsistence entirely cut off by the state of lithuania and samogitia. in addition to their immense losses in action, fatigue, sickness, and other inconveniences had reduced them to a state of extreme distress. besides the influence of physical evils, there was a moral influence which impaired their strength, arising from a conviction which they could not avoid feeling, of the justice of the polish cause. the russian soldiers began also to reflect, that by thus serving the ends of despotism, they were only securing the continuance of their own servitude. these reflections were not made by the army alone, but, as we were secretly advised by persons coming from the interior of russia, they were made there also, and were accompanied with the same sentiments of discontent. at st petersburgh, as well as at moscow, various discontents were manifested, and notices of such must have met the eye of the reader in the journals of the day. the senate of st petersburgh presented to the consideration of the monarch the continual severe losses of the preceding years, in the wars with persia and turkey, and those of this campaign, (though much underrated by them,) which they had reason to fear would be still increased, and which might encourage revolutions in all the provinces. for these reasons the senate took upon themselves to advise some propitiatory measures, and some attempt by concessions to satisfy the demands of the poles. the party most zealous in favor of such a course was composed of those who had relations and friends exiled to siberia, on account of the revolutionary movement of . the russian patriots in general, not only thought it a favorable moment to attempt to effect an amelioration of the fate of those individuals, but they hoped that the restoration of their ancient constitutional privileges and nationality to the polish provinces attached to russia, would authorize a claim for equal privileges to the people of the whole russian empire. to these circumstances, is to be added that at this time the other cabinets began to feel dissatisfied at the course of russia, and decidedly refused the requests of aid in men and money which she made on the pretext of former treaties. every thing, in fine, seemed to promise a near end of the present difficulties. the polish army, to whom this state of things was well known, waited impatiently for the moment of a decisive contest. one victory more, and the russians would not be in a state to push their attempts farther. nothing could then stop the progress of our arms, which would rest on the borders of the dnieper, the only frontier known to our ancestors. one struggle more, and the darkness of ages, which had hung over the polish provinces of the north, would be dispersed. the light of civilization would then spread its rays as far as the ural mountains, and with that civilization a new happiness would cheer those immense regions. upon the borders of the dnieper fraternal nations would hold out their hands towards us, and there would be made the great appeal: 'russians! why all this misery? the poles wish to deprive you of nothing. nay, they have even sacrificed their children for your good. russians! awake to a sense of your condition! you, like us, are only the unhappy victims of the relentless will of those who find their account in oppressing you and us. let us end this struggle, caused by despotism alone. let it be our common aim to rid ourselves of its cruel power. it is despotism alone that we have any interest in fighting against. let us mark these frontiers, which so much fraternal blood has been shed to regain, by monuments, that shall tell posterity, that here ended forever the contest between brothers, which shall recall the disasters that despotism has caused, and be a memorial of eternal friendship between us, and of eternal warning to tyranny.' a comparative view of the force of the two armies after the battle of iganie. the russian forces, which commenced the contest on the th of december, amounted, as has been before stated, to about , men and pieces of cannon. that army received two reinforcements, viz. the corps of general prince szachowski, consisting of , men, and pieces of cannon; and the corps of the imperial guard, consisting also of , men and pieces of cannon. the whole russian force, then, which had fought against us, amounted to , men, and pieces of cannon. to act against this force, our army, counting the reinforcements of men which it received before the battle of grochow, had in service about , men, and about pieces of cannon. up to the battle of iganie, fifteen principal battles had been given, viz. those of stoczek, dobre, milosna, swierza and nowawies, bialolenka (on the th and th), grochow (on the th and th), nasielsk, pulawy, kurow, wawr (on the th and st), dembe-wielkie and iganie. to these are to be added a great number of small skirmishes, in not one of which could it have been said that the russians were successful. by their own official reports,--after the battle of grochow, more than fifty thousand russians were _hors du combat_. it will not, then, be an exaggeration to say, that their whole loss, taking into the account prisoners and those who fell under the ravages of the cholera, which had begun to extend itself in their army, must have amounted to between , and , men.[ ] from the enormous park of artillery which the russians had brought against us, they lost as many as sixty pieces. it may then be presumed that the russian army remained at between , and , men, and about pieces of cannon, not estimating, however, which it would be impossible to do, the number of cannon which might have been dismounted. our army, which was reorganized at warsaw, after its losses, was brought to about the same state as at the commencement of the war, that is, about , strong. the artillery was now augmented to pieces. although the enemy's force was still sufficiently imposing, the reader will permit me to say, (and in fact we did reasonably calculate thus) that as we had fought with such success against the enemy in his unimpaired strength, we might with confidence promise ourselves a certain issue of the conflict in our favor, when, with his forces thus diminished in numbers, sick, discouraged, and discontented, we could meet him with the same and even a stronger force than that with which we had already been victorious, animated too, as we now were, by the inspiriting influence of our past success, and aided by the terror with which our arms had inspired the enemy. footnotes: [footnote : every military reader, who shall follow, with strict attention, the plans of our general in strategy and tactics, will be astonished, perhaps, that after such victories as those of the st of march and st of april, he should have abandoned the advantages which he might have gained, in following up, immediately, his operations upon the two corps of rosen and giesmar, and then throwing himself rapidly upon the superior forces of diebitsch, which, after those corps were cut off, could, by a simultaneous diversion upon zelechow and lukow, [_see plan_], have been attacked on both sides, and thrown into confusion. although i cannot give a satisfactory explanation of this apparent fault, it must be considered, that those subsequent events which give a color to the imputation, could not, perhaps, have then been reasonably anticipated by the general; and the talent so uniformly displayed by skrzynecki should force us to suppose that there were some conclusive objections to such a course, occurring to his mind, which are not now apparent to the observer.] [footnote : no terms can express the admirable conduct of our commander and his suite, who directed the work of reconstructing these bridges, in person. the general and his officers all labored with their own hands at this important task. some of them were wounded. our brave soldiers, witnessing the fine example of their chief, shouted their patriotic songs, as they worked, under this destructive fire. while a party were placing some trunks of trees, a shell fell among them. to have left their labor in order to avoid the danger, would have delayed the work, they therefore remained in their places, and with the noise of the explosion was mingled the shout of 'poland forever!' providence granted that in that exposed labor our loss was very inconsiderable.] [footnote : i cannot pretend to give the reader an accurate idea of the number of prisoners which were taken during the first days of april. from the battle of wawr to that of iganie, not a day passed in which great numbers of them, with baggage and effects of all kinds, were not brought in. they must have amounted in that interval to full , . those prisoners arrived generally without escort, and it was often the case that old men and even women of the peasantry were seen leading them, or rather showing them the way,--two or three peasants, perhaps, with twenty prisoners. this continual influx of prisoners gave a name in fact to that interval of time, which was referred to, as 'the period of the prisoners.' the inhabitants of warsaw found an amusement in witnessing this continual arrival of the captured russians. 'let us go to praga, to see the prisoners brought in,' was a proposition often made, as referring to an ordinary recreation which might be counted on with perfect certainty. if, for a half day, no prisoners appeared, the complaint would be sportively made, 'what is mr john about, (referring to skrzynecki) that he sends us no prisoners to-day?' the great number of the prisoners engaged the attention of the national government. it was impossible to leave them all at warsaw; and they were at first divided into three parts, one of which remained in warsaw to work upon the fortifications, and every soldier was paid for his labor. the second part being also employed upon wages, labored on the great roads leading from warsaw, in a direction opposite to the seat of the war. the third part were dispersed among the farmers in the proportion of one russian for three farmers; and these were also paid for their labor. at stated times, an assemblage of the prisoners was held, in which they were addressed in such a manner as to produce a moral effect upon them. they were instructed in the true nature of their political rights, the real causes of the contest were exhibited to them, and they were made to be convinced that it was for their advantage as well as our own that we were fighting. the greatest harmony reigned between the poles and their prisoners; and i am sure that those russians will remember the days they passed as prisoners, as the happiest in their lives. with us their prison was a state of freedom and tranquillity, in which they received a liberal reward for their labor, while in their own country they were the slaves of despots, great and little, to whom obedience was enforced by the knout.] chapter xvi. position of the two armies after the battle of iganie.--plan of a simultaneous attack upon the russian forces upon opposite sides.--instructions to the different corps.--operations on the enemy's front.--unfortunate operations of general sierawski, and the _first defeat_.--details of those operations.--operations of general dwernicki.--he defeats rudiger; but by a false operation exposes himself to be attacked disadvantageously by two russian corps.--in the course of the action the austrian frontier is passed by the combatants.--an austrian force interposes, and general dwernicki consents to go into camp.--his arms and prisoners are taken from him, while the enemy is permitted to leave the territory freely.--reflections on the conduct of austria.--consequences of the loss of dwernicki's corps.--the cholera makes its appearance in the two armies. the positions of the two armies, [_see plan_ xxii,] were now as follows:--the russian army was divided into four principal bodies, having no communication with each other. first, their main body (_a_), consisting of about , men and pieces of cannon, were between lukow ( ) and cock ( ). secondly, the remains of the corps of rosen and giesmar (_b_) were at siedlce ( ). they could be counted at about , men and perhaps pieces of cannon. thirdly, at ostrolenka ( ) was the imperial guard (_c_), consisting of , men and cannon. fourthly, in the palatinate of lublin, were the combined corps of witt and kreutz (_d_), consisting of , men and pieces of cannon. their different scattered detachments might be counted at , men. this separation of their different corps invited a sudden attack on either, before it could receive succor from the others. [illustration: _xxii. p. _] [illustration: _xxiii. p. ._] our main body (_e_), composed of four divisions of infantry, and three of cavalry, making in all about , men and pieces of cannon, was placed between iganie ( ) and siennica ( ). our reconnoissances were pushed along the left bank of the river liwiec (l), as far as its junction with the river bug (b). on the right, those reconnoissances reached zelechow ( ). this was nearly the same as our first position, and it was strong. besides this main force, was the division of cavalry of general uminski (_f_) upon the right bank of the narew, at nasielsk ( ), amounting to , horse and pieces of artillery, placed there to observe the russian guard. in the environs of pulawy ( ) was a small partizan corps, under the command of general sierawski (_g_), with , men and four pieces of cannon. the corps of general dwernicki (_h_) was in the environs of zamosc, ( ) and consisted of men, and pieces of cannon. this corps, though at a distance from the rest of our forces, could not be cut off, having the fortress of zamosc as a _point d'appui_. if the reader will examine a map of the country, or even the small plan in the preceding pages [_no._ vi, _or_ xxii,] he will be satisfied that by our forces, small as they were, the russian army was already surrounded, and that on the least advantage which dwernicki, in conjunction with sierawski, might gain over witt and kreutz, that army could have been taken in the rear, by means of a diversion upon kock ( ) and radzyn ( ). in a word, the moment approached at which our commander had determined to give the enemy a last decisive blow, by attacking him at the same time on every side; and for this object, the following instructions and orders were given. first. the generalissimo renewed the order for strengthening the fortifications of warsaw and praga, as well as those on the whole plain of grochow. from the first day of april, as many as russian prisoners were continually employed upon those fortifications. warsaw, which was already, as the reader is informed, defended by a girdle of lunettes and redoubts, communicating with each other, received the additional defence in some places of block-houses. to strengthen the fortifications of praga, besides the bridge-head, there were constructed, within the distance of an english mile, a line of circumvallation, which could hold more than twelve thousand men. still farther, at a distance of two miles beyond, or nearly upon the field of grochow, was constructed a third line of lunettes and redoubts, which occupied the whole distance from kawenczyn to the marshes of goclaw, or the entire field of battle of grochow, as seen in the plan of that battle. in fine, the approach to praga was so defended, that the enemy, before reaching it, would have to pass three different lines of fortification. the general in chief gave instructions to the governor of warsaw in regard to the defence of the city, in which he placed his chief trust upon the national guard. the guard counted it an honor to be entrusted with this duty, and were unwilling that a single soldier of the regular army should be detailed for the service. how admirably they executed their noble resolutions, when the occasion came, is probably well known to every reader. after his plans for the defence of warsaw were communicated to the authorities of the city, he gave particular attention to those points on which he intended to support all his operations, and, relying on which, he could at any time hazard the boldest attempts. having thus made warsaw an axis, upon which all his operations could revolve, he proceeded to arrange his attack. in the first place he sent orders to general dwernicki (_h_) to attack immediately the combined corps of generals witt and kreutz (_d_). in this attack the small corps of general sierawski (_g_) was to aid, and the two corps were to preserve a constant communication with each other. for that object general sierawski was to pass the vistula at kazimierz ( ), and, avoiding an engagement with the enemy, to endeavor to join, as soon as possible, the corps of general dwernicki, who received orders to leave zamosc and approach lublin ( ). these two corps were to take such a position, that they could at any time retire upon zamosc or kazimierz. general dwernicki was also informed that a third small corps would be sent in the direction of zelechow ( ) and kock ( ), to act in concert with him on the enemy's rear. if they should succeed in the attack, general dwernicki was to endeavor to force the enemy to take the direction of pulawy ( ), to drive him into the angle formed by the vistula (v) and the wieprz (p); in fine, so to act as to cut off those two corps from all communication whatever with their main body. leaving the corps of general sierawski to continue to observe them, and to push his advantages over them, dwernicki himself was to pass the wieprz at kock, and from thence by forced marches to leave in the direction of radzyn ( ) for lukow ( ) or seroczyn ( ), as circumstances might direct, and according as he should ascertain the position of the enemy to be. arrived at lukow or seroczyn, as the case might be, he was to await there the orders of the general in chief, to join in the attack upon the main force of the enemy under diebitsch (_e_), in which attack he was to act on the enemy's left wing. the main body of the enemy, thus taken in front and in flank, simultaneously, could not but have been broken up. for all these operations the general in chief had destined fourteen days only. on the night of the battle of iganie, the general in chief having decided upon the above plan, sent officers in every direction with orders and instructions. the officers sent to the corps of general dwernicki were enjoined to communicate their orders to him with the utmost haste. the generalissimo, while making his preparations for this last blow, continued an unremitting observation upon all the movements of the enemy, even to the minutest details, and in order that the enemy might be constantly occupied, and diverted from suspecting our plans, he directed small attacks to be continually made upon his front. for this object the second division, posted at siennica, received orders to advance to the small town of jeruzalem. the division, in executing that order, fought the enemy for three successive days, the th, th and th of april, at jedlina, wodynie, and plomieniece, and always with advantage. in one of those attacks, at jedlina, a small detachment of sixteen krakus attacked a squadron of russian hussars, coming from wodynie, dispersed them, and took some twenty prisoners. this division received also the order to communicate constantly with the corps of general pac at zelechow. this last general was to send continual reconnoissances towards kock, to keep a constant observation upon the russian corps of kreutz and witt. of the movements of those two corps, the generalissimo was each day to receive the most accurate information, in order to be ready prepared to prevent, at any moment, a junction which might be attempted between those corps and their main body. general skrzynecki, seeing that the enemy had fallen into his plan, (of which, indeed, he could not have had the least suspicion,) and full of the brightest hopes, waited impatiently in his strong position, for intelligence from general dwernicki, and the approach of the moment for his attack upon diebitsch. almost sure of the successful execution of his admirable arrangements, what can express his disappointment on hearing of the unfortunate operations of the corps of general sierawski, and of the defeat of that corps at kazimierz in the palatinate of lublin, _the first defeat in the whole war_. that general, in neglecting the instructions of the commander in chief, not to engage with the enemy, on account of the inferiority of his own forces, (with which forces in fact he could not expect to act but in partizan warfare,) approached lublin, where the two corps of kreutz and witt were supposed to be posted, while his orders were, by avoiding those corps, and taking the most circuitous roads, to endeavor to join as secretly and as soon as possible, the corps of dwernicki. he was probably deceived by false information as to the direction of the enemy's corps, and led to believe that those two corps had quitted lublin, to attack general dwernicki at zamosc. he therefore probably took the direction of lublin, with the idea of acting upon the rear of the enemy at the moment of his attack upon dwernicki. in this manner general sierawski, quitting kazimierz, arrived on the th of april at belzyca. to his great astonishment he found there a strong advanced guard of the above mentioned corps. to avoid compromitting himself, he engaged with this advanced guard, when, observing the very superior force and the advantageous position of the enemy, he ordered a retreat, which retreat was well executed and without much loss. this general should have continued his march the whole night, with as little delay as possible, in order to repass quietly the vistula, and thus be protected from all molestation by the enemy. but, for what cause it is almost impossible to conjecture, he awaited the enemy in order of battle the next day, at serauow. perhaps, finding himself in rather a strong position, he thought that the corps of general dwernicki might arrive to his aid. the enemy approached the next day with his whole force against sierawski, and as warm an action commenced as the nature of the ground would admit, it being covered by woods with patches of open ground intervening. some squadrons of young kaliszian cavalry, led by the general himself, advanced to the attack of the enemy's artillery, which being disadvantageously posted, was exposed to be captured. that cavalry, however, by a false direction of their charge, fell among the concealed masses of the enemy's infantry, and their attack failed. this unsuccessful attack had unfortunate results. the corps of general sierawski was obliged to evacuate its position, and along its whole retrograde march continual attacks of the enemy were pressed upon it. the peculiar nature of the ground, and the extreme brevity of general sierawski, a veteran of between sixty and seventy, who, at the head of the detachments of his rear guard always led the charges against the enemy, and held him in check, was all that saved the corps from destruction. at length the corps reached kazimierz, the point which it had left; and here again, instead of passing the vistula, sierawski awaited another attack from the overwhelming force of the enemy, and that too with only the half of his corps, for the other half was sent to pass the vistula. this course was inexplicable, and excited much remark in the army. on the th, the russians reached kazimierz. the town was vigorously attacked by them, and their assaults were repeatedly repulsed by the new kazimierz infantry, under colonel malachowski, who, with a scythe in his hand, marched at their head. but the death of that brave patriot spread among the ranks of those new soldiers a degree of disorder, and the city was taken by the enemy. we must again thank general sierawski for having saved the rest of the corps from ruin; having executed the evacuation of the town with such order that he passed the vistula at the point of borowa, not far from kazimierz, without being molested in the attempt. he then took a position on the left bank. although the unfortunate affairs of those two days were not attended by severe losses, yet they were deeply afflictive to the general in chief. they threatened the entire disarrangement of his plans, and were followed by the more important disasters of general dwernicki. the latter general, who, as is known to the reader, commenced his career so gloriously; whose very name, indeed, was a terror to the russians, and who, by his successive victories over the three corps of kreutz, wirtemberg, and rudiger, had established the strongest claims upon the gratitude of his country,--this general, i must repeat it with pain, finished his great career in the most unfortunate manner. his case should serve as a strong example, that it is not bravery alone which is required in a great general, for in that it would be difficult to find his equal, but that this bravery loses its value when not united with circumspection. the following are the details of the operations of general dwernicki. [_see plan no._ xxiii.] we cannot well imagine the cause which induced that general to quit zamosc ( ), and the important operations in the palatinate of lublin, and, neglecting all his instructions and orders, to have crossed the bug (b) and entered the province of volhynia, unless it were the reception of some certain news of a fresh insurrection in that province, and of the collection of insurgent forces there, who might be waiting for his approach, and who needed his protection. he might, perhaps, have thought to be able so to accelerate his movement as to avail himself of such new strength before a superior russian force should arrive in that province to crush such insurrection, and disperse the insurgents. at the moment when dwernicki might have conceived such a plan, there was, in fact, only a corps of about , men and some pieces of cannon, under rudiger, in the province. this corps, dwernicki perhaps intended to attack, in his way, and crush them, and then attaching the insurgents to his corps, to return to the palatinate, or if circumstances might make it expedient, to follow up his blow into the heart of volhynia. in fine, on the th of april, this general quitted the environs of zamosc, taking the direction of uscilog ( ), where, on the evening of the th, he passed the river bug. on the th he continued his march in the direction of dubno ( ), where the insurgents were perhaps supposed to be awaiting him. on the road to that town he received information that the corps of rudiger had marched from radziwilow ( ) and was now in the direction of milatyn ( ). general dwernicki turned immediately from the direction in which he was marching, to throw himself upon this corps, which he found on its march, at the village of boromel ( ), where, without giving the enemy time to take position, he attacked and overthrew him. the enemy was routed, and lost several hundred in killed and prisoners, with eight pieces of cannon. that in this fine, and the last fine battle of dwernicki, the russian corps was not wholly destroyed, was owing to the circumstance that a branch of the river styr (s), over which the bridge had been destroyed, stopped our pursuit. the russians, during the night of the th, evacuated their position, and took the road to beresteczko ( ), where they took a new position. in regard to tactics, the corps of general rudiger could not have chosen a worse direction than that of the angle formed by the river styr, and the frontier of austria (f). general dwernicki, by a passage to the right bank of the styr, could have cut off all the enemy's communications with his other corps, and could have again fought him at the greatest advantage. it was here then that our brave dwernicki committed his great fault, and in place of acting upon the right bank of the river, where he would have had an open field for the most enlarged operations, he chose to follow up the attack; and as he saw that the enemy could not be safely assailed in front, on account of his strong position between two small lakes, but found that this position was open towards the frontier of austria,--there it was that the unhappy idea occurred to him, of marching to the environs of kolodno ( ), on the frontier of austria, and attacking the enemy on that side, feeling sure of victory. but general rudiger did not wait for this attack. perceiving his exposed position between the river and the frontier, he was satisfied with being permitted to escape, and declined battle. upon observing that general dwernicki was manoeuvring upon the frontiers of austria, general rudiger repassed the styr, avoided the attack by this manoeuvre, and was in a situation to join himself with all the russian detachments which might come into the province from the heart of russia, by the different directions of krzemieniece, ostrog, &c, and to act with them in surrounding dwernicki, who was confined in this above described angle. this is what in fact took place. dwernicki remained, for what reason we cannot conceive, at kolodno until the d of april, whence, following along the frontiers of austria, he took the direction of wereszczaki ( ). there dispersing a russian detachment, he arrived on the th at knielce and wielkie ( ). knowing that the russians were observing him, he determined to remain there and take advantage of a strong natural position. he wished in this position to await the enemy and give him battle, hoping by a victory to free himself from the contracted space in which he was confined. in fact, on the next day, the corps of general rudiger (_b_) made its appearance, having come in the direction of krzemienic ( ). the battle commenced, and in the midst of the action another russian corps (_c_) was seen approaching in the direction of proskirow ( ) and stary-konstantynow ( ) under the command of general rott, acting thus upon the right wing and even the rear of general dwernicki's corps. to avoid being turned, general dwernicki retired in such a manner as to lean his right wing upon the austrian frontier. the russians, not regarding this, passed that frontier, and proceeded to push their attack upon his flank. this obliged general dwernicki to withdraw his left wing, and indeed his whole front, upon the austrian territory, where, in fact, the line was not distinctly marked, all the while being engaged with the enemy. the action having continued thus for some hours, a detachment of austrian cavalry, under colonel fac, approached and threw themselves between the combatants, calling on them to respect the neutrality of the territory. in this manner the combat ceased. general dwernicki gave his parole to discontinue hostilities, and consented to advance farther into the interior, and, placing himself in camp, waited the result of the decision of the austrian government upon what had occurred. the russian corps, which had just passed the frontier, and which had in fact entered it with its whole force, was permitted to leave freely. the first duty which general dwernicki thought imposed upon him in his present situation, was to make a full and true report of what had occurred to the national government and the general in chief, which he was permitted to do. he also sent a letter to the commander in chief of the austrian forces in gallicia, explaining how it was that, in a necessary manoeuvre he had passed over a point of land on the austrian territory without the intention of occupying it. having done this, he supposed that he would be permitted to remain in camp, retaining his own arms, those taken from the enemy, and his prisoners, until conferences between the governments should decide respecting the course to be taken. but the austrian government, far from giving such a reasonable permission, collected a strong corps in the environs of tarnopol, and the austrian commander in chief demanded of general dwernicki to surrender both his own arms and those taken from the enemy. general dwernicki, although this austrian corps was not formidable to him, yet being anxious to avoid the serious political consequences which might possibly follow resistance, submitted to this unjust demand, which will be an eternal reproach to the austrian government. the austrians returned their arms to the russian prisoners, whom they liberated, and retained the arms of the polish troops. the whole corps was conducted into the interior, and thus ended the career of that important body of our forces.[ ] the conduct of austria, in regard to the corps of dwernicki, i am sure will excite the indignation of the reader. if general dwernicki had entered upon the austrian territory, he was forced to do it by the russian corps, which had already passed the frontier; and that cannot be regarded as an intentional invasion of the frontiers which was done without design, and was a mere transition over an indistinct line, made necessary by the position which the enemy had taken. such a case certainly should have formed an exception to a general rule. to the russian corps all the prisoners were returned, without any consent obtained from our government, to whom they, in fact, belonged, and should have been considered as belonging, until the end of the war. it was in this manner that those intriguing cabinets repaid the debt of gratitude which they owed to poland. they had forgotten the times of john sobieski, who, in , delivered their capital, and their whole territory, from destruction at the hands of the turks. they had forgotten that they thus owe their very existence to poland. at present, regardless of all obligations of justice, they concert with our enemy for our ruin. but if by this unjust treatment of their benefactors, the austrians may have gained some temporary advantages, the reader will acknowledge that in reference to their ultimate good, they have acted with a most short-sighted and mistaken policy. the aggrandizement of russia can never be an advantage to austria. there were few more melancholy events in our war than this. the disaster of this corps grievously paralyzed all the fine plans of the general in chief. it reinforced the russian superior force by , men;--for the different corps of kreutz, witt, rudiger and rott, could now rejoin their main army without obstruction. to these disasters of the two corps of dwernicki and sierawski, which were deeply felt by the nation, was now to be added the appearance of that horrible malady, the cholera, which after the battle of iganie commenced its devastations in our ranks. on the night of that battle several hundreds of our troops fell sick. this terrible disease caused us, on the first few days, the loss of nearly , men; but if it was terrible with us, nothing can express the suffering it produced in the russian camp, aided by the want of comfort in the arrangements of that camp, and the acid food upon which the russian soldiers were habitually fed. thousands of those wretched sufferers were left exposed to the open air, and died upon the field. the poles took even more care of them than of their own sick. they were brought together, and transported to menie, where there was a large convent, which was turned into an hospital for their use. the total number of those sufferers may be imagined, when it is stated, that, in that hospital and village alone, two thousand russian sick were reported. footnotes: [footnote : this unfortunate and painful event should serve as an impressive example, which cannot be too often brought to mind, of what disastrous consequences may follow from the neglect of observing a constant communication between corps acting together, and, above all, the departing from orders which are given upon a general plan, the absolute control of which should belong to the general in chief. had general dwernicki, conforming to his instructions, acted only against the corps of kreutz and witt, and in concert with the corps of sierawski, he would have been apprised of that general's quitting kazimierz, and both of those two corps could have joined in the attack, in which they would have been aided by another corps which was to be sent, as the reader is aware, to act against the enemy's rear. if those corps of kreutz and witt had been defeated, immense advantages would have followed; indeed the war would have been over, for the russian main army would have been taken in flank and rear, and, in fact, completely cut off.] chapter xvii. the russian commander resumes offensive operations.--object of the attack of the th of april.--combat of kuflew.--general dembinski evacuates the position of kuflew and awaits the enemy at bady.--battle of minsk.--the enemy suddenly evacuates his position.--reflections on this stage of the conflict.--positions of the two armies. the russian main army, which, since the last of march had been on the defensive, from weakness or from indecision, on the d of april began to change its position, and to take the offensive. having received intelligence, as we may suppose, of the disasters of sierawski, and also of the passage of general dwernicki into volhynia, general diebitsch gave orders to the corps of witt and kreutz to pass the wieprz at kock, and to attack our detachment at zelechow, which was forced to retire. on the same day, ( d) the brigade of colonel dembinski was attacked at jeruzalem, without any decisive result. those small attacks by the enemy served, however, as an indication of the intention of general diebitsch to take the offensive on a larger scale. to meet this intention, all our detachments received orders to hold themselves in readiness. firstly, these detachments were to concentrate themselves upon a line of operations, between kaluszyn, siennica, and zelechow. [_the reader can refer to plan_ vi.] the whole line, in case of attack, on whatever quarter it might be, was to make a retrograde movement, upon the same plan as heretofore, as far as the field of wawr. general pac, in particular, who was the farthest removed from zelechow, was to use the utmost vigilance, and to make this retrograde movement in the promptest manner, when occasion required. on the th of april, in fact, marshal diebitsch commenced his attack at two principal points, boimie and kuflew. upon the last of these two points, he threw his greatest force, intending to pierce our line there, and by a diversion at minsk to divide our forces. besides the prevention of this design, the defence of kuflew was of the greatest importance to us from the circumstance that along the whole course of the river swider, at latowicz, starygrod, &c, were posted various small detachments, which would have been cut off, if we should be forced to make a sudden evacuation of that point. combat of kuflew. [_see plan_ xxiv.] this combat deserved to be forever held up as an example in tactics, to show how much can be done with a small force, managed with prudence and skill. colonel dembinski, who, in this battle, commanded the inconsiderable forces that met the attack of the masses of diebitsch, well merited the rank of general, to which he was then advanced. our position was covered by the river swider (s) and its marshes, which secured it from being taken in flank. the enemy had one debouchment (_a_), consisting of a kind of dyke, which led from kolacze ( ). he could pass this dyke easily, for the bridge was entire. on our side, not far from this dyke, were small forests, or rather brush-wood, occupied by two battalions (_b_) of our infantry. upon the plain between kuflew and the river swider, ten squadrons of our cavalry (_c_) manoeuvred. near the village (ii) upon a little hill, on which was a wind-mill, our artillery (_d_), consisting of only four pieces, were posted, and directed their fire upon the passage over which the enemy were to debouch. the position of the enemy was commanding, for his artillery could sweep the whole plain on each side of the swider. the details of this battle were as follow:--at sunrise, on the th, several regiments of cossacks (_e_) appeared upon the heights of jeruzalem. they even several times attempted to pass the dyke, but were repulsed by the fire of our tirailleurs from the brush-wood. it was mid-day when strong columns of infantry (_f_) began to show themselves in the direction of lukowiec and plomieniec. in a short time all the heights of jeruzalem were covered with columns of infantry, and they began their descent to kolacze. the russian light troops (_g_) began their debouchment, and a warm fire commenced between the russian infantry upon the dyke, and our own tirailleurs in the brush-wood. the russian artillery (_h_) which remained upon the heights on the other side, consisting of twenty and more pieces of large calibre, poured for several hours a heavy fire upon kuflew, where they supposed a large force to be placed, but where, in fact, besides the four pieces of artillery, we had but one company of infantry. under this terrible fire, that village was burnt to the ground. those attacks of the russian artillery and infantry continued for three successive hours, when colonel dembinski, being informed that the small detachments at latowicz, &c, above referred to, had evacuated their position and were safe from being cut off, commenced his retreat, as his instructions directed. by accelerating his retreat he had another object in view, namely, to lead the enemy in the direction of the d division, which was posted at ceglow, and was prepared to receive him. our infantry and artillery had left their position and were on the road, when colonel dembinski, placing himself at the head of his cavalry, threw himself with great boldness upon the columns of the enemy which had debouched over the dyke, and by repeated attacks kept them off from our rear. after having passed the first forest without molestation, between ceglow and kuflew, colonel dembinski took a position, between forests, in the environs of bady, where a part of the d division was placed in expectation of the enemy, in a kind of ambuscade. here our forces waited in vain until night for the enemy, who had contented himself with having taken kuflew. two squadrons of cossacks, whom he ventured to send towards our position, to reconnoitre, were, as soon as they were seen, fallen upon by our cavalry, and either cut down or made prisoners, to the amount of more than a hundred men and horses, with two officers. as the enemy attempted nothing more, our forces, during the night, evacuated their position, agreeably to instructions, and reached minsk at , a.m. of the next day. at kuflew, full , men, with some twenty pieces of artillery, and commanded by diebitsch in person, were opposed to general dembinski, who had not quite , men and four pieces of artillery, with which force he stood against the enemy for that whole day. the loss of the russians was about a thousand men, and on our own side it was not fifty. [illustration: _xxiv._] [illustration: _xxv._] the actions which took place on the same day at boimie, were without any decisive result, consisting only of a continued fire of artillery. during the night of that day, our forces in every point made a retrograde movement. the general in chief arranged his preparations to receive the enemy on the th, dividing his forces into two parts. the second division under gielgud, and the division of cavalry, under skarzynski, was to await the enemy at minsk; while the general in chief, with the main body, awaited him in person at dembe-wielke. battle of minsk. [_see plan_ xxv.] the position of minsk may be considered as one of the strongest upon the great road from siedlce to warsaw. that town is situated in a plain, surrounded by an impenetrable forest, and traversed by a small river, which falls into the swider. upon the side of warsaw, where our forces were placed, are heights which overlook the whole town, and they were particularly commanding upon the right of the roads leading to warsaw. the fire from those heights could sweep almost every street of the city, and they were occupied by twenty-four pieces of artillery (_a_). upon the side of siedlce and ceglow, whence the enemy was approaching, the whole plain was exposed to the commanding fire of this artillery. the town of minsk was occupied by two battalions of our light infantry, dispersed as sharp shooters (_b_). it was mid-day when the russians (_c_) (_d_) debouched from the forest, commenced their advance, and deployed upon the plain under the fire of our artillery, which was opened immediately. some fifty pieces of the enemy's artillery, (_e_) approached the city, took position, and commenced their fire. as the town was occupied by so small a force, and so distributed as not to be affected by the enemy's fire, he was permitted to continue this fire, and our artillery reserved theirs for the moment when he should make a general advance to storm the town. this soon took place. an enormous mass of infantry (_f_) advanced to the assault. our light troops evacuated the part of the town beyond the river, to enable our artillery to open upon it. that part was immediately occupied by the enemy, who, crowded together in the streets, were subjected to a fire which spread death among their ranks. the enemy hesitated whether to advance or retire, and remained in the utmost disorder, falling under the fire of our artillery and the torn and burning fragments of the wooden buildings which were rent in pieces by that fire. while the enemy remained in this horrible suspense, the brave colonel oborski led his regiment to the charge, and bore down all before him. a most terrible massacre, at the point of the bayonet, then took place in the square of the church (_g_), where great masses of the enemy were crowded together. the russians were driven out of the town after a most severe loss. they were left at liberty to take possession of the same part again, but they did not repeat their attacks upon the town, satisfying themselves with concentrating a heavy fire of artillery principally upon the heights occupied by our own. this state of things continued till three o'clock, when general gielgud gave orders to evacuate the position, agreeably to the directions of the general in chief. sixteen squadrons of cavalry were left to cover the movement, and in this way our division, reaching the village of stoiadly, two english miles distant, took a second position there. this new position was advantageous, on account of the elevation of the ground. our right wing, in particular, was well supported upon a thick marshy forest, and was pushed forward far enough to give a cross fire to the enemy, in case he should try to force the passage of the great road. as the enemy was so imprudent, after our evacuation, as to commence his debouchment through the town, with his cavalry in advance, he exposed himself to a severe loss; for our artillery, consisting of six pieces, poured a destructive fire upon the main street of the city, which led to the only passage over the river; and again, after deploying under this fire upon the plain, he was subjected to vigorous charges from our cavalry under skarzynski, which cost him a severe loss, and delayed his advance for more than half an hour. as the space between stoiadly and minsk was a plain gently descending from our side, moist in the lower parts, and in every way favorable for attacks by our cavalry, their charges were continually repeated, and the combat on this plain deserved the name of the combat of cavalry. to give the reader an idea of these effective charges against a cavalry of much superior force, i will merely state that each squadron of the sixteen, was engaged some three or four successive times with the enemy. their horses were continually in foam. the regiment of zamoyski, the krakus, and the th hulans greatly distinguished themselves. the loss of the enemy's cavalry, of which the greater part consisted of regiments of heavy dragoons, was very great. their horses hoofs sunk into the humid ground, and our krakus, on their light animals, assaulted them in the very midst of their ranks. many staff and other officers of the enemy were left dead upon the field. our advanced guard having, in this way, fought with such advantages, against the whole russian army, at minsk and stoiadly, from mid-day until , p.m.; the general in chief ordered them to evacuate their position as promptly as possible, and retire to dembe-wielke, where he awaited the enemy in order of battle, and where he was desirous of meeting his attack before night. this movement was executed without molestation from the russians. our advanced guard passed the forests between dembe-wielke and stoiadly, and arrived at the position of dembe-wielke, where fifty pieces of our artillery were posted to receive the enemy, and our whole force took the order of battle. the enemy, however, did not debouch from the forests, but remained on the other side. this finishes the details of that day and of the battle of minsk, in which the early cessation of the attacks of the enemy proved how much he had suffered. he had two generals mortally wounded, general pahlen and the prince galiczyn, and lost nearly , men. on our side the loss was four or five hundred only. for their conduct in this battle, the national government and the general in chief presented their thanks to the d division under gielgud and the division of cavalry under skarzynski. general gielgud was advanced to the rank of general of division, and it was perhaps owing to his skilful dispositions and brave conduct on that day, that it was not feared to entrust him with the command of the all important expedition to lithuania. on the th and th, no events took place. during the night of the th, the enemy, to our astonishment, evacuated his position and retired as far as kaluszyn, twenty-four english miles distant. we cannot give the true cause of this sudden and unexpected retreat. perhaps it was on account of a failure of provisions. another cause might have been the rumors, which had begun to take an aspect of importance, of the revolutions in lithuania and samogitia. the reader will allow me to dwell for a moment upon this extraordinary movement of the enemy, which must be considered an indication, either of the extreme of physical and moral weakness to which the russian army was reduced, or of a great want of generalship on the part of marshal diebitsch. such a course, voluntarily taken, in the eyes of the military critic, is enough to destroy all claim to military talent on the part of that commander. such great objects attempted, followed up with so little perseverance, and abandoned without an adequate cause, would seem to indicate either the absence of any fixed plan, or a degree of indecision inconsistent with any sound military pretensions. our commander in chief felt sure that when general diebitsch attacked, on the th, and th, it was with the view, having no longer any fear of the corps of generals dwernicki and sierawski, and being reinforced by the corps which had been opposed to the former, to follow up his attack and compel us to a general battle. whatever might have been the result of that battle, it was the only course which a true general could have followed, especially when his army was in such superiority of strength. to one who considers these circumstances, two questions will arise. first, what was the object of commencing the attack? secondly, what was, in regard to tactics, the cause of its cessation, and of that sudden retreat? it will be very difficult to find a satisfactory answer to either of those questions.[ ] our army, after this retreat of the enemy, commenced anew its advance, and, on the th, it occupied again its former position at boimie, on the river kostrzyn. at this time, our left wing under uminski, which, as the reader is aware, was on the right bank of the narew, at the environs of pultusk, received orders to join the main army, leaving a detachment at zagroby, where the generalissimo ordered a strong bridge-head to be erected. the position of the two armies on the th was as follows. [_plans_ vi _and_ xxix.] our army was again concentrated between wengrow and ceglow, and indeed wengrow was occupied by a small detachment. the centre or the greater force was on the main road at kaluszyn. its advanced posts were along the banks of the river kostrzyn at grombkowo, strzebucza, and boimie. our right wing was again posted upon the river swider, between karczew and ceglow. the russian army was concentrated in the environs of mordy and sucha, where marshal diebitsch entrenched himself in a fortified camp, and took again a defensive attitude. the corps of kreutz and witt were in the environs of pulawy, and the russian imperial guard advanced to the environs of pultusk. footnotes: [footnote : in the whole of this war, the videttes of the two armies were at no time so near as they were after this last battle. on the th and th, those of the russian cavalry, cossacks and hussars, occupying the main road, were within fifty paces of the videttes of our lancers, so near in fact that they could have conversed together. on having this circumstance reported to him, the general in chief did not take advantage of any attack, but ordered the utmost forbearance to be observed, and the most friendly demonstrations to be made by our outposts. on changing of the guard, our sentinels, as they quitted their post, bade a friendly adieu to the opposite sentinel of the enemy; and under the cover of night, the enemy's sentinels, and even some of their officers, approached our videttes, gave their hands, and entered into friendly conversation. it was touching to see those brave soldiers deeply affected at such meetings. with tears in their eyes, the russians could only repeat that they had been forced to this contest, and confessed that, even if we should be conquerors, they would be the gainers in other respects. they also uttered their complaints of the tyranny and the privations to which they were subjected, and our lancers gave them all the relief which their own means could furnish.] chapter xviii. general skrzynecki resumes the offensive.--he decides to adopt an enlarged plan of operations, and to make the revolutionized provinces supply the place of a corps d'armee.--the corps of chrzanowski is sent to occupy the russian corps of witt and kreutz.--admirable execution of this enterprise.--attack on kock.--attack of rudiger's camp.--plan of operations by the main army against the russian guard.--forced march from kaluszyn by praga to serock.--advanced post of the guard attacked and defeated.--the corps of saken is cut off.--the d division under gielgud sent into lithuania.--the imperial guard are driven with great loss beyond the frontier.--retrograde movement. as several days passed away, without any thing having been attempted on the part of the enemy, our general in chief decided to re-commence hostilities by small attacks, which were designed to mask the great plan he intended to put into execution. the general view which occupied our commander, was to continue the offensive, to follow up the enemy constantly, and not to leave him unless some very important occasion should call for a different course. let us reflect upon the difficulties of such a plan, and let us then examine how it was in fact executed by the general in chief. general skrzynecki, regarding all the existing circumstances, the actual position of the enemy, and his strength, found a great difference between the present state of things and that which existed after the battle of iganie. the misfortunes of the corps of dwernicki and sierawski, had made a vast change in the relative strength of the two parties. the fate of those two corps gave a great advantage to the enemy, leaving him free to concentrate all his forces and to act in one mass. this advantage of the enemy was to be met, and means were to be taken to keep his forces in detached bodies, by giving occupation to each. to provide such means, it was next an object to give an important character to the revolution in lithuania, and in fact to make that revolution supply the place of a _corps d'armee_, to send a body of troops to aid it, and to direct and lead the partizan forces which might be there enrolled. if then by such operation, lithuania and samogitia could be kept in constant communication with the main army, the line of operations would be enlarged, and would be based upon wilno and warsaw. this line of operations would embrace also the towns of grodno and lomza. to occupy the corps of witt and kreutz, which were still in the palatinate of lublin, the general in chief detached a small corps under the command of general chrzanowski, which were furnished with the same instructions as its predecessor, that of general dwernicki, which were, in general, to act in the environs of zamosc. to facilitate the execution of these plans, the general in chief determined to give daily occupation to the enemy. on the d of may, the fire was renewed along our whole line. each following day presented sanguinary scenes at different points. in the midst of one of these actions, on the th, the small corps above mentioned, consisting of , men and eight pieces of cannon, under general chrzanowski, left the main body [_see plan_ xxvi], took the direction of stoczek ( ), zelechow ( ), and kock ( ), to reach the environs of zamosc ( ). the reader, on examining the plan, and looking at the space which this corps (_a_) was to pass over, in the midst of the enemy's detached corps (_b_), and in which it was exposed every moment to be surrounded and cut off, will acknowledge that this expedition, which was most successfully executed, is to be ranked among the finest operations in the campaign. it demanded a general of talent, and a soldier of determination. [illustration: _xxvi. p _] [illustration: _xxvii. p _] [illustration: _xxviii. p. _] when i allow myself thus to detain the attention of the reader upon the extraordinary efforts of this war, it is only with the view to convince him that nothing is difficult of execution which is prompted by a resolute determination based upon high principles, and that what would be deemed almost impossible in an ordinary war, in which despots, to gratify their ambition or their caprices, force their subjects to battle--an involuntary sacrifice, is far from being so, in a war like ours. in such a war, moral impulse becomes an element, the importance of which cannot be over-estimated. general chrzanowski, quitting, as we have mentioned, the main body, took the direction of ceglow, and threw himself into the great forest of plomieniec. leaving that forest, he met, near wodynie, a strong detachment of the enemy, composed of infantry, cavalry, and several pieces of artillery, belonging to their main body, and probably detached to make a reconnoissance. by a sudden attack that detachment was at once overthrown. the cavalry ordered for their pursuit were instructed to return in another direction, in order to deceive the enemy. in this manner general chrzanowski, frequently meeting with small detachments of the enemy and deceiving them continually, traversed the woody plain between stoczek and zelechow, and arrived, on the night of the th, at the environs of kock, where he had to pass the river wieprz. attack of kock. [_see plan_ xxvii.] at the moment of the arrival of the corps of general chrzanowski, this town was occupied by a part of the corps of general witt, composed of , men and pieces of artillery. besides this considerable garrison, the place had been strengthened by several fortifications ( ) on each side of the river, to defend the passage of the bridge ( ), and without taking those fortifications it would be impossible for us to pass the bridge. in such circumstances there was no alternative, and it was necessary to attempt to take the town by storm. general chrzanowski announced his intention to the corps, and addressed a few animating words to them. having divided his corps into small parties (_a, a_), he surrounded the town. he placed especial importance upon the forcing of the avenue ( ) leading to the palace, and getting possession of the garden ( ) which surrounded the palace, and bordered on the river. if all this could be rapidly executed, the enemy would be taken in the rear. the signal for the attack being given, a warm fire from our skirmishers was commenced in all points round the city, and, while the cavalry (_b_), divided into detachments, threw themselves continually upon the russian infantry (_c_), our infantry, at the charge, forced the entrance to the palace and garden, which was immediately occupied by our tirailleurs, who opened their fire upon the fortifications ( ) and on the russian columns in the square (_d_). in this manner the enemy was surrounded, and forced to evacuate the city with great loss, and to take the direction of radzyn. general chrzanowski passed the river and took the direction of lubartow. leaving the town of lublin on the right, and following the banks of the river wieprz, he reached on the th the environs of piaski. in the latter place he was apprized that a russian corps under rudiger was at krasny-staw. chrzanowski decided to attack them. attack of rudiger's camp. [_see plan_ xxviii.] the corps of general rudiger, after the unfortunate disaster of general dwernicki, having traversed volhynia, entered the frontiers of the kingdom, and took the direction of lublin, being destined probably to reinforce the main army under diebitsch. this corps, which was composed of about , men, and some twenty pieces of cannon, was in camp (e) near the town of krasny-staw, having that town and the river wieprz in its rear. general chrzanowski, who halted with his corps in the forest between piaski and krasny-staw, having sent out patrols, was perfectly informed of the position of the enemy, and ascertained that he had not his wing supported on the river;--indeed, he was in such a state, as satisfied our general that he had no expectation of meeting a polish force, and that he might be surprised in his camp. to effect this object, general chrzanowski divided his corps into two parties, and giving the command of one to the brave general romarino, he ordered him to traverse the forest longitudinally, as far as the road which leads from tarnogora to krasny-staw, and by this road, which is wholly through forests, to approach, as near as possible, to the left of the enemy's camp; and also, if circumstances might permit it, to push himself even against the enemy's rear. on arriving there, he was to commence his fire immediately. these instructions to general romarino being given, general chrzanowski (b) advanced with the other part of the corps, through the forest, keeping the left bank of the wieprz. he approached so near the enemy, without being perceived, as even to be on a line with him. not long before evening, romarino having reached the enemy on the other side (c), began his attack, and his fire was a signal for chrzanowski to quit the forest. thus suddenly assaulted upon his two wings and his rear, the disorder of the enemy was unimaginable, and he was not in a state to offer resistance. the whole camp was taken, with all its baggage, ammunition, &c, and as many as two thousand prisoners and six pieces of artillery fell into our hands. the remains of his force fled along the great road (d), which was purposely left open to him. general chrzanowski contented himself with occupying the town, in which he furnished himself with ammunition from the magazines, and, remaining there but a short time, left for the environs of zamosc, in which fortress he deposited his prisoners. conformably to his instructions, he remained in camp, near this fortress, at labunia.[ ] the general in chief having thus accomplished his object of supplying the place of general dwernicki's corps, and holding in check the corps of witt and kreutz, in the palatinate of lublin, it remained to him to complete his great plan by sending a corps into lithuania. he decided to remove the only obstacle to this attempt by attacking the russian imperial guard, which was somewhat detached from the russian grand army. to carry this bold purpose into effect, the following instructions were given to the different commanders. [illustration: _xxix._] [illustration: _xxx._] operations against the russian guard. [_plan_ xxix.] on the th of may, general uminski with his division of cavalry (_a_) was ordered to quit the left wing and the position of zimna-woda, and to move to the position of kaluszyn. this traverse of the line he was to make in full view of the enemy, and he was to give to the manoeuvre the aspect of a reconnoissance. the object of this change of position was, that in the new position he might mask the movements of the main body. this important disposition general uminski was directed to carry into effect with the utmost prudence. the enemy was to be each day harassed, but never to be engaged with in any decisive manner. small detachments were to be sent against the enemy, along his whole line, and especially on the first days of the movement. the general in chief instructed general uminski to watch every movement of the enemy, and give information of such at head-quarters. if the main body of the russian force should make an attack, he was to execute his retreat upon the main road, as far as the fortifications of praga, and there he was to act in junction with the other detachments left there for the defence of those fortifications. if, on the contrary, the russian army should make a retrograde movement, general uminski was to endeavor, by following them, to keep them constantly in view. if circumstances permitted, the rear guard of the russians might be harassed during the night. above all, general uminski was to endeavor to keep up his communications with the neighboring corps, that of general lubinski, and the detachments left at siennica and karczew. in this moderate pursuit of the enemy, the general was to ascertain whether their retrograde movement was a retreat or a manoeuvre, in order to avoid every hazard. general lubinski (_b_), with his division of cavalry, was to pass the right bank of the bug (b), and leaving small detachments at wyszkow ( ) and brok ( ), he was to advance as far as the environs of nar ( ), not quitting the right bank of the river. all his care was to be devoted to the observing of the enemy, and to the preventing of any sudden passage of the river by him. in regard to his communications, the same instructions were given to him as to general uminski. having given these orders to the above mentioned corps, general skrzynecki, with the main force (_d_), left suddenly the position at kaluszyn ( ), making a retrograde movement upon the great road, by minsk ( ), traversed praga ( ), and through jablonna ( ), and zegrz ( ), arrived on the th, at serock ( ). on the th, he passed the narew (n), at this place, leaving a brigade of infantry and cavalry (_e_), under general dembinski, upon the right bank, with orders to advance to ostrolenka ( ), through the towns of pultusk, magnuszewo and rozany ( ). this detachment was not to commence the attack on meeting the enemy, but was only to harass him and keep him in check, and detain him as near as possible to serock. if the enemy should commence the retreat, this corps was to pursue him with the greatest activity, in order that at ostrolenka, where the general in chief had determined to attack him, he might be exposed between two fires. on the th, this corps met the first advanced post (_f_) of the russian imperial guard at modzele, which, after a slight engagement, evacuated its position, and retired. being pursued by the brigade of cavalry under general dembinski, they, on the th, commenced the passage of the narew, at ostrolenka. in attempting this passage, the rear-guard of the enemy was overthrown, and four regiments of the light infantry of finland were taken prisoners. this pursuit by the brave dembinski was executed with such rapidity, that the corps of general saken, which made a part of the grand corps of the guard, but was a little detached, was completely cut off from the main body and forced to take refuge in the palatinate of augustow. it is much to be regretted that our main force (_d_) could not reach ostrolenka; having to pass narrow roads, through forests, in which the artillery met with much obstruction. otherwise, the whole of that imperial guard would have been surrounded. with the arrival of our main body, on the night of the th, the russians passed the narew, but many voitures and stragglers fell into the hands of our cavalry in the forest of troszyn ( ). the general in chief, having given the corps a short rest, and having despatched a detachment, under the command of colonel sierawski, for the pursuit of the corps of saken, on the same night continued his march in pursuit of the guard, in the direction of troszyn ( ). on the morning of the next day, arriving at dlugie-siodlo ( ), this village was found occupied by two regiments of infantry and two of cavalry, the latter covering the village. our st regiment of lancers, which were the leading force, leaving the forest and finding the russian cavalry in line before that village, threw themselves upon them with the rapidity of lightning. the enemy's cavalry was borne down before them, and pursued by our lancers into the village; but his infantry, under cover of the village, opened a terrible fire upon our cavalry, which compelled them to retire and await the arrival of the artillery. at length, eight pieces of light artillery, commanded by colonel boehm, arrived, and commenced a vigorous fire of grape upon the village, which compelled the enemy's infantry to evacuate it, and they were pursued with such spirit, that one battalion was taken, and the rest were dispersed in the forest. on the same day, the enemy was again pressed upon in his retreat, in the environs of xienzopol ( ), especially on the passage of the river and marshes of kamionka. the st lancers, and the battery of light artillery, who did not quit the enemy a moment, arrived simultaneously with him at the point of the passage. the enemy was obliged to debouch under the fire of our artillery and the charges of our cavalry, and lost again several hundred in dead, wounded and prisoners. i cannot give the reader a satisfactory explanation, why general skrzynecki did not pursue the enemy on the th. perhaps he considered the great fatigue of the army, particularly the infantry, which the reader will, of course, presume to have been incurred by the forced march which the distance passed over supposes. another reason, perhaps, was, that he had sent from this place the first detachment (_i_) for lithuania, wishing to be sure of its safe passage to the frontiers. the detachment, in fact, left on that day, in the direction of mniszew, and passed the frontier of the kingdom at the village of mien, between ciechanowiec and suraz, opposite brainsk. our army, having halted one day at xienzopol, on the evening of the th, quitted this position to continue the pursuit of the guard, and overtook them in the forest of menzynin ( ). this forest, occupied by the russian rear-guard, was so near the heights of the village, which command the whole vicinity, that it was exposed to a fire of artillery from these heights. our generalissimo placed his artillery on the heights, and directed a fire upon the forest; the infantry was ordered to take the enemy in front, in case he should quit the forest, and the cavalry was to advance in strong columns along the road, to cut off his escape from the forest into the road. in this they were successful, and took many prisoners. thus continually pursued, and subject to severe losses along the whole route, the guard (_l_) was again pressed at the passage of the narew at tykocin ( ). the consternation and disorder of the enemy was such, that he did not take time to destroy the bridge. our lancers, commanded by the brave colonel langerman, commenced an attack upon the russian cuirassiers, on the bridge itself. the regiment of cuirassiers was almost annihilated, many being thrown from the bridge, and a great number taken prisoners. having thus driven the russian guard from the kingdom, (of which the narew was the boundary,) general skrzynecki commenced a retrograde movement, to meet the demonstration which general diebitsch might make upon his rear. on the night of the d, our army (_m_) began this movement, having destroyed the several bridges of the narew. these then are the details of the operations upon the russian guard, which will be admitted to be among the finest in the history of modern warfare. the operations of napoleon, in the campaign of italy--the brilliant commencement of his career, in ,--will be always cited as the highest examples of stratago-tactics, but i do not think that a finer and bolder plan of operations can be found even there. in both cases, success was owing, not more to the great military genius of the leaders, than to those high moral impulses which must animate armies in every contest for national existence. our army, evacuating on the th, the position at kaluszyn, from that date to the th, when the battle of ostrolenka took place, had passed over a distance of from to miles, which, deducting the six days occupied in action, was executed in eight days, making an average of twenty-eight english miles per day, an extraordinary and perhaps unexampled effort. the rapidity, in fact, with which this movement was performed, was such, that our forces were on their return before marshal diebitsch commenced his march to intercept them. this object the marshal thought himself in season to effect, but the reader will see in the sequel how completely he failed of it. footnotes: [footnote : the reader may be pleased with a short biographical sketch of general chrzanowski, who distinguished himself here so much. this skilful officer commenced his military career in , on leaving the military school at warsaw, as officer of the corps of engineers, in which department he was distinguished for his skill and industry. in the year , during the war of turkey, the emperor nicholas was desirous of obtaining the aid of polish officers of engineers, and chrzanowski was among the number chosen. in this campaign his talents made themselves remarked, and marshal diebitsch gave him great marks of confidence, and placed him near his person. he returned from the campaign as captain, and received several russian decorations. in the revolution, like a worthy son of poland, he offered his services to the common cause; but the dictator chlopicki, who, among his other faults, had that of either being unable to appreciate, or willing to disregard the merits of the officers from among whom he was to make his appointments, did not give any important trust to general chrzanowski;--perhaps it was because chrzanowski was among the number of those who were desirous of taking the field without delay. with the glorious commencement of the era of the command of our estimable skrzynecki, this brave officer was advanced to the rank of lieutenant colonel, and was placed in the post of chef d'etat major. while in this post he was advanced to the rank of general. the generalissimo, who in all his plans observed the greatest secrecy, and his example ought to be followed by every good general, initiated, however, chrzanowski, and prondzynski, who succeeded the former as chef d'etat, into all his plans: and indeed those two brave generals were valuable counsellors to skrzynecki. among other qualities necessary to a great general, chrzanowski was endowed with great coolness and presence of mind, and with a spirit of system, which he carried into every thing which he undertook. he was seen in the midst of the hottest fire, with his plan of the battle before him, referring the movements to the plan, and giving his orders with the greatest sangfroid imaginable. the generalissimo could not enough regret that he had not given him the command of the expedition to lithuania, in place of gielgud. if the skill and coolness of chrzanowski could have been united, in that expedition, with the bold and adventurous enterprise of dwernicki, every thing would have been effected there in a few weeks.] chapter xix. the lithuanians compel two russian corps to evacuate samogitia.--operations of general chlapowski in the department of bialystok.--capture of bielsk.--defeat of a russian force at narewka and expulsion of the enemy from the department.--recapitulation of the forces which had been sent into lithuania.--operations of the main army.--attempt of marshal diebitsch to intercept skrzynecki on his retrograde march, by a diversion to ostrolenka.--general lubinski surprises the russian advanced guard at czyzew.--marshal diebitsch attacks the polish rear-guard at kleczkowo.--the rear-guard quits its position at night, and joins the main army at ostrolenka.--battle of ostrolenka. quitting the main army, which had thus successfully executed the important operation of driving the russian imperial guard from the kingdom, and sending a corps into lithuania,--we will now turn to take a view of the state of affairs in that province. the brave lithuanians in a series of bloody encounters had made themselves severely felt by the enemy. in the departments of roszyienie and szawla, at about the middle of the month of may, a short time before the battle of ostrolenka, the two russian corps, under malinowski and szyrman, were almost annihilated by the lithuanian insurgents, who, night and day, falling upon them from forest ambuscades, subjected them to immense losses. those corps literally wandered about, for some time, and being unable to hold themselves in any position, were forced at last to evacuate samogitia. in the department of bialystok, the little corps recently sent under the command of general chlapowski, began its operations with great success. in the environs of bielsk, that small detachment, composed of four squadrons of the st regiment of lancers, consisting of four hundred and eighty horsemen, a hundred and ninety light infantry volunteers mounted,[ ] and two pieces of cannon, routed two regiments of cossacks and two battalions of infantry, the latter being taken in a body and the former dispersed; and, what was of much importance to us, in bielsk, as well as in brainsk, several magazines of powder were found. in the environs of bielsk, colonel mikotin, aid-de-camp of the grand duke michael, and on his way with despatches from him to the grand duke constantine, was taken prisoner.[ ] the corps of general chlapowski left bielsk in the direction of the town of orla, and entered the forest of bialowiek, where he received reinforcements of lithuanian insurgents. on the same day that our main army fought at ostrolenka, the th of may, this little corps had an engagement with the enemy in the environs of narewka. a considerable russian detachment, under the command of general rengardt, composed of , infantry, , cavalry, and five pieces of cannon--in all, nearly , men--was posted near nasielsk. this considerable force was attacked by our small corps, to which were added some hundreds of insurgents, making in all, a force of not more than a thousand men. the russians were completely beaten in this action. full a thousand prisoners were taken, and all their artillery. an important advantage of this affair, was the taking of a great transport of some hundred vehicles with provisions, destined for the russian grand army. by the dispersion and ruin of this corps, the department of bialystok was entirely cleared of the russians, and nothing interrupted the formation and organization of the insurgent forces. the taking of bielsk, and the affair of narewka, will be admitted by the reader to have been above the rank of ordinary achievements, and should immortalize the handful of brave men which formed this detachment. they may be pointed at, as examples, with many others, in this war, of how much can be effected by that prompt and energetic action which no ordinary motives will sustain. while the affairs of lithuania and samogitia, and those in the department of bialystok, wore this favorable aspect, a new corps was approaching to aid this propitious state of things, to protect the insurrections, and, as might be confidently hoped, to bring them to a sure and happy result. the new force destined for this object consisted of the d division, reinforced by a squadron of cavalry, which force quitted lomza on the th for lithuania. before returning to the operations of the grand army, we will give a short recapitulation of the forces which had been sent into lithuania and samogitia, at successive periods, to support the insurrections in those provinces. the first corps under general chlapowski, left, on the th of may, the village of xienzopol, with this destination;--to enter the department of bialystok, to occupy the forest of bialowiez, in which were collected the forces of the revolted lithuanians, with the view to organize these forces; from that position to act on the russian communications, and, if circumstances might allow it, to make an approach upon wilno. this little corps, as we have seen, was composed of infantry volunteers mounted, the st regiment of lancers, consisting of horsemen, and two pieces of light artillery. the second corps, under the command of colonel sierakowski, left, a few days before that of general chlapowski, with the view, as we have also seen, to follow and observe the division of general saken, who had been cut off by general skrzynecki from the russian guard, and compelled to remain on the right bank of the narew. this corps consisted of two battalions of infantry of the th regiment, recently formed, amounting to , men, two squadrons of horse, of plock, also recently formed, in all, and two pieces of cannon. this corps, in the execution of its instructions, obtained several advantages over general saken, near stavisk. colonel sierakowski then advanced to the environs of the little town of graiewo, where he took a strong position, and awaited the arrival of the corps of general gielgud. the third corps, under the command of general gielgud, being the second division, left the town of lomza on the th of may. it was composed of battalions of infantry, consisting of , men, squadrons of cavalry of men, sappers, and pieces of cannon. the total force of these three corps was then as follows: _artillery_, pieces. _infantry_, , men. _cavalry_, , . besides these forces, which were detached from the grand army, there were formed in lithuania, several regiments of infantry and cavalry, which we shall designate in the sequel, but which did not commence active service until the battle of wilno. to return to the main army. such was the rapidity with which the operations of general skrzynecki upon the russian guard were executed, that, as we have said, he was on his retrograde march, after having driven that guard beyond the frontiers, before marshal diebitsch received intelligence of his operations. it was then that the russian commander, having no hope of saving the guard, conceived the plan of attempting, by a prompt diversion towards ostrolenka, to cut off the communication of our army with warsaw. [_see plan_ xxix.] with this view he evacuated his position at sucha and mordy (_o_), passed by sokolow, crossed the river bug at granne ( ), entered into the russian province of bialystok, passed through a corner of this department on the th of may, and crossing the little river nurzec (r), at ciechanowiec ( ), entered again into the polish territory, and occupied the road of czyzew ( ) and zambrowo ( ). without any delay he pushed his advanced guard as far as czyzew. general lubinski was then at nur. this little town was at the same distance from ostrolenka as czyzew, but the communications with ostrolenka were more difficult, czyzew being on a principal road. the enemy, observing this circumstance, and taking it for granted that lubinski was cut off from the main army, sent an aid-de-camp with a flag of truce to summon him to surrender.[ ] this summons was rejected. after the departure of the aid-de-camp, general lubinski commenced his march, and, though it was practicable for him to reach ostrolenka by a direct route, yet thinking it possible that czyzew was not occupied by a very strong force, and that he might profit by the approach of night, he determined to march at once upon the latter place, and to attack the russian advanced guard there. this bold thought was executed with perfect success. on reaching czyzew he found two regiments of cavalry encamped, and wholly unprepared for an attack. they had not even an outer-guard upon the road to nur. he made a charge which threw them into complete disorder, and compelled them to retreat with the loss of a great number in killed and wounded, and four to five hundred prisoners. it was to be regretted that the necessity under which general lubinski was placed of reaching ostrolenka as soon as possible, did not permit him to profit farther by these advantages. on the next day, (the th) the rear-guard of our main army, consisting of the brigade of general wengierski, was attacked at mid-day by the russians, on the side of zambrowo, near kleczkowo ( ), a village situated at the distance of three leagues from ostrolenka, on the left bank of the narew. general diebitsch, being under the conviction that he had encountered the whole polish force at kleczkowo, consolidated his strength there, and determined to come to action, and, by so doing, give time for another corps to advance in the direction of czyzew, and occupy ostrolenka, by which movement he trusted that our army would be cut off from warsaw, and forced to retire to lomza. the russian commander, presuming on the celerity of his movements, was so confident of meeting our whole army at this point, that nothing could exceed his surprise on learning that our army had already passed the town, and that it was only the rear-guard which was before him.[ ] in order to lose no time, he commenced an immediate attack on the rear-guard thus posted at kleczkowo. our general in chief who was then at troszyn, on hearing the fire of the russians at kleczkowo, immediately repaired thither, and profiting by the fine position of that place, which commanded the marshy plain on the side of the enemy, passable only by a dyke, the bridge over which had been demolished by our troops, ordered general wengierski to sustain himself in that position until night. in vain the russian cavalry and infantry attempted to pass this dyke. at each approach they were uniformly driven back by a destructive fire of grape from our artillery. in vain were sixteen pieces of their artillery employed to silence this fire; our position was too commanding to be affected by them. the brigade of general wengierski having held out in this position, with the greatest determination against a vastly superior force, for nine hours, left the place at night in the greatest order, and followed the main army. on the next day, the th of may, our army (_h_) evacuated ostrolenka, passed the river narew, and took, upon the right bank of that river, opposite to ostrolenka, a new position,[ ] leaving the bridge partly destroyed, but in such a state that the russian infantry might pass it slowly. not long after we had occupied our position, the enemy commenced debouching over this bridge. battle of ostrolenka. [_see plan_ xxx.] the battle of ostrolenka, which cost us the lives of two brave generals, kicki, and henry kaminski, was, in point of tactics, simply the passage of the river. we may presume that the intention of general diebitsch was, by passing the narew at this point, to send at the same time a corps to serock, in order to cut off our army, and place it between two fires. at o'clock, the russian infantry (_a_) under the protection of a most terrible fire from fifty-four pieces of artillery, (_b_) placed in a very strong position on the left bank of the narew, commenced, as we have said, the passage of the river. general skrzynecki, not wishing absolutely to prevent this passage, placed but sixteen cannon in advantageous positions, on slight elevations of ground, (_d_) designed to prevent the repairing of the bridge, and the consequent rapid passage of the enemy's infantry. the powerful russian artillery attempted, without success, to silence these few pieces. their fire was equally harmless to the main army (a); for the latter was withdrawn to an advantageous position. our artillery, on the other hand, was used with great effect, being brought to bear directly upon the bridge. during these operations, the advanced guard, with all the baggage and ammunition of the army, received the order to take up the march towards warsaw. at o'clock, our artillery received orders to evacuate their position, and the skirmishers (_e_) were ordered to advance. on the cessation of the fire of the artillery, the light troops commenced a warm fire upon the columns of russian infantry, which had already passed the bridge. the enemy, profiting by the withdrawal of our artillery, commenced repairing the bridge, to afford a passage for large masses of infantry, and artillery. a strong russian column (_f_), after passing the bridge, took a direction to the left, to throw itself into the forest which borders on the narew, at the distance of a quarter of a league from the bridge; and by occupying that forest and the communications which traverse it, they thought to commence an attack upon our right wing. to have permitted this would have much deranged our dispositions. the polish commander, observing that a great body of the russian infantry had already passed the bridge, and that this strong column had been sent to occupy the forest, ordered general lubinski to send forward a brigade of cavalry (_g_), to charge upon this column, on its march, and at the same time ordered general kaminski, with a division of infantry, to make a charge upon the russian infantry near the bridge. these two attacks were executed with great promptness and spirit, and were successful. the column which the cavalry attacked on its march to the forest, was dispersed with the loss of more than a hundred men left on the field. the attack of the division of general kaminski was equally fortunate. the russian columns, on receiving his charge, fell back upon the bridge, or concealed themselves under the banks of the river. these two attacks cost us the lives of the two generals, kaminski and kicki, who threw themselves upon the enemy, at the head of their respective columns. their loss was deeply regretted by the army and the nation. although the result of these attacks was favorable to us, yet, the general in chief, considering the terribly destructive fire of the russian artillery, which commanded the whole plain near the bridge, decided that the repetition of them would cost us too severe a loss, and commanded both the cavalry and infantry to withdraw to their former position, and to cease firing. at o'clock, the firing on both sides had entirely ceased. profiting by this interval, the polish army pursued its route, and the russian infantry again commenced debouching upon the bridge. at dusk, nearly the whole polish army was on the march to warsaw, and one division only [_plan_ xxxi, (_d_)] remained on our position. on the part of the russian army, we may suppose that nearly two divisions had passed the bridge, when our general in chief, wishing to profit by the obscurity of the night, in order to subject the enemy to still greater losses, conceived the bold idea of advancing our artillery (_a_) so near the russian columns (_b_), as to pour upon them a fire of grape-shot. general skrzynecki himself approached colonel boehm, and taking the command of the twelve pieces of light artillery under him, led them in person to the distance of within three hundred paces of the enemy, and brought forward at the same time two regiments of cavalry for the support of this artillery. placing this little detachment in a very advantageous position behind small elevations of ground, he commanded colonel boehm to commence firing. the russian columns were thrown into confusion by this unexpected and terrible fire; and it may be imagined that their loss was immense, enclosed as they were within a narrow space, on the bank and on the bridge. every discharge of the artillery was with effect, and by the testimony of the prisoners taken, their loss must have amounted to an entire brigade, without estimating those who left the field wounded, and those who fell into the river. on our side, this attack cost us only the loss of two officers of the artillery, although this detachment was exposed to the fire of the whole russian artillery.[ ] our battery fired but three rounds, when the general gave the order to withdraw, and follow the main army (a) to warsaw.[ ] these are the details of the battle of ostrolenka, in which the loss on the enemy's side was from , to , men, and on our side, the two general officers above mentioned, with about , men. on the afternoon of the day of the battle of ostrolenka, the division of general gielgud received orders to depart from the town of lomza. general dembinski, on the night of the same day was ordered to join him with two squadrons of lancers of poznan. the latter general left the field of battle with these squadrons, and on the next day joined the division of general gielgud.[ ] [illustration: _xxxi._] [illustration: _xxxii._] footnotes: [footnote : we found, on experiment, that this species of force acting in conjunction with cavalry could be used with great advantage, especially against a hostile cavalry. the mounted infantry were placed in the rear of the cavalry. when the latter advanced to the charge the former dismounted, and leaving their horses in the care of a party detailed for the purpose, dispersed themselves as sharp-shooters, and commenced a fire upon the enemy, who, thrown into confusion by this unexpected attack, were open to a destructive charge from the cavalry.] [footnote : the capture of the town of bielsk and its garrison was marked with such singular circumstances, that i think that some of the details will interest the reader. the small corps of general chlapowski arriving suddenly before this town, on the d of may, was informed that it had a garrison of two battalions of infantry, and that near the town was a body of a thousand cossacks, in camp. the advanced guard of our small corps, with which was the general and several of his officers, approached the barriers of the town. the russian sentinel observing our party, and seeing a general officer among them, did not recognize them as enemies, but called the guard to give them the honors of the place. general chlapowski, on the approach of the guard, commanded them to lay down their arms, which they did. the same ceremony was gone through with the grand-guard in the square of the town, and the russians mechanically obeyed these orders, in a state of amazement. general chlapowski fearing that he might be surrounded by the cossacks, left his infantry volunteers to disperse any detachments of the enemy in the town that might rally to oppose him, and led all the artillery and cavalry against the camp of the cossacks. the russian infantry who attempted to make a resistance in the town, were dispersed at the point of the bayonet, and, with the assistance of the inhabitants, they were all made prisoners; while by the attack of the artillery and cavalry, the encamped cossacks were entirely dispersed, and several of them taken prisoners. general chlapowski left his prisoners in the care of the inhabitants, taking with him only those who were poles, and who volunteered their services.] [footnote : the officer announced to general lubinski that the whole russian army had occupied ciechanowiec, that the advanced guard was already at czyzew, and that those circumstances ought to satisfy him that his communications with his friends were entirely cut off, and that therefore he would do well to lay down his arms and throw himself upon the magnanimity of the emperor. to this proposition general lubinski replied, that although such might be his situation, he could not think of surrendering himself without a struggle; and to satisfy the aid-de-camp that this was not his individual feeling alone, but that it was partaken by the whole body of his soldiers, he would present him to them, and enable him to satisfy himself personally on this point. the aid-de-camp was then conducted to the front of the line, and he addressed himself to the troops, exhibiting the circumstances under which they were placed, assuring them that the bravest resistance would be hopeless, and inviting them to surrender. this address was interrupted by a universal shout of indignation from the soldiery, and they commanded him to leave their presence. this division was composed of two regiments of old light infantry, and two recently formed regiments of mazurs.] [footnote : marshal diebitsch must by this time have become satisfied that the operations, both in strategy and tactics, of the polish commander, were the result of extensive and just combinations. general skrzynecki, in contriving this plan (with the valuable assistance of general prondzynski,) of surprising and defeating the russian guard, had satisfied himself of the practicability of returning to ostrolenka without being intercepted.] [footnote : the question might be asked by some, whether this battle was necessary, and why general skrzynecki did not pursue his route to warsaw, as he could have done without molestation. in the course which he took, he had two objects in view; the one was, to cause this destructive passage of the narew, and thus diminish the forces of his enemy; the other was, by thus occupying general diebitsch to give time to general gielgud to leave lomza in safety for lithuania. (_see plan_ xxix.)] [footnote : this fire of the russian artillery might almost be compared to the terrible fire of the th of february, at grochow, in the attack on the forest of elders.] [footnote : this manoeuvre, of bringing the artillery so near the columns of the enemy, and under the terrible fire of the russian artillery, was one of those bold and hazardous steps which were necessary for the object of reducing the immense superiority of the enemy's force. the personal agency of general skrzynecki was demanded for a blow like this; and in executing it he displayed equally the qualities of the soldier and the general. the admiration of his soldiers was excited by seeing him dismount and place himself with the utmost coolness at the head of this battery of artillery, exposed to the incessant fire of that of the enemy. neither the fear of the enemy, nor the entreaties of his officers, who begged him, on their knees, to withdraw and to reserve his valuable life for his country, could induce him to move from his place, until he had seen the successful termination of this effort.] [footnote : for those who have asserted that general gielgud was cut off from the main body of the polish forces and compelled to escape into lithuania, the sending of these two squadrons of lancers to join him, will be a sufficient answer. the division of general gielgud could have even remained at lomza for as many as three days after this battle.] chapter xx. operations of the lithuanian corps.--battle of raygrod and defeat of the russian corps of saken.--importance of this first success in lithuania.--general gielgud neglects to follow up his advantages.--he loses time by passing the niemen at gielgudyszki, and enables the enemy to concentrate his forces in wilno.--entrance into lithuania and reception by the inhabitants.--position of the two main armies.--the russian forces remain inactive and receive supplies from prussia.--death of marshal diebitsch. on the th of may, the corps of general gielgud, attached to which were generals rohland, szymanowski, dembinski, and colonel pientka, left lomza, and commenced their march into lithuania. on the evening of that day, they arrived at stawisk, passing through szczuczyn and graiewo. in the last town they were joined by the little corps of general, then colonel, sierakowski, which, as we have already remarked, had been employed in observing general saken, and was here occupying an advantageous position. the force of this corps has been already stated. battle of raygrod. [_plan_ xxxii.] i have divided this battle into two different periods, marked by the two different positions which the enemy successively took. on examining the plan of the first position of the russians, it will be at once seen that they had no knowledge of the arrival of our corps. they supposed that they were acting against the corps of colonel sierakowski alone, and they had conceived the design of out-flanking him. on the morning of the th, our whole corps, quitting the little town of graiewo, met, at the distance of about a quarter of a league, the russian flankers, against whom our own were immediately sent out. the russian cavalry began to retire. our columns continued their march slowly, having the forces of colonel sierakowski in front, as an advanced guard,[ ] and we thus arrived at the lake of raygrod, the advanced guard meeting only small detachments of the russian cavalry, which retired as we approached. on reaching the lake, our advanced guard were fired upon by the russian skirmishers, concealed in the woods on the opposite side of the lake, which bordered upon the causeway. colonel sierakowski received orders to engage with them. he sent forward his own light troops, and placed two cannons upon the causeway, with which he commenced a fire upon the woods. the russian infantry instantly evacuated the woods, and allowed our skirmishers to occupy them. by this manoeuvre, the russians intended to lead on our forces with the view to attack them on their flank, and even to surround them, by sending detachments (_a_, _b_) to the right and left, as will be seen on the plan. in a short time our larger force, under general gielgud, commenced debouching between the two lakes. a strong column (_c_) of our infantry took a direction towards the forest, to the left, and another column (_d_) to that on the right, to dislodge the enemy, if he should be found to have occupied either. at the same time our artillery (_e_), to the number of fourteen pieces, taking a position at the side of the causeway, opposite to that of the enemy (_f_), commenced firing. the whole of our cavalry, and the greater part of our infantry remained in the centre, and constituted a formidable front. in a few moments after these dispositions were made, a brisk fire of tirailleurs was commenced on our left wing (a). the russian centre (b), suffering from the fire of our artillery, and taken by surprise at the unexpected strength of our forces, began to waver. this was a signal for our advance. colonel pientka, who commanded the artillery, gave the order. a strong column of three battalions of infantry commenced the hurrah, and charged with the bayonet, upon the wavering columns of the enemy. at the same time, general dembinski gave the order to our cavalry (_g_) to charge upon that of the enemy on the right and left. the first squadron of the lancers of poznan received the order to throw themselves forward, and fall upon the breaking columns of the enemy. the greatest consternation and disorder began to exist in the russian ranks. it was no longer a retreat; it was a flight. this squadron of lancers, commanded by the brave major mycielski, performed prodigies of valor. they entered the town simultaneously with the russian columns, cutting down immense numbers of the enemy, and taking many prisoners. this squadron courageously remained in the streets of the city, exposed to the fire of the enemy's infantry, who had occupied the houses, until the arrival of our own infantry. in this exposed situation they lost their commander.[ ] these several attacks, which did not occupy two hours, caused an immense loss to the enemy. three entire battalions, which formed their right wing (c), consisting of , men, were taken prisoners, with three superior officers, and fourteen of a lower grade. by the entry of our forces, the enemy were driven from the town, and took another position (d) upon elevated ground, on the opposite side of a small stream, near the town. this position was strong, and commanded the town and the whole of the other side of the stream. general saken would certainly have remained long in this position, if our right wing under colonel koss had not, as we shall see, succeeded in passing the stream at a higher point (_i_), and acted on his flank. the russian general, as soon as he had established himself in his new position, commenced a fire upon the town, which was returned by our artillery. it was during this fire that colonel koss succeeded in passing the stream, at a quarter of a league above the city, on the right. this was effected by demolishing the buildings in the vicinity, and making a passage for the artillery from their materials. general saken, seeing his left wing thus menaced, evacuated his position, in which, as we have said, but for this attack on his flank, he could have well supported himself for some time. at o'clock the russians commenced their retreat upon the road to kowno, and thus terminated a battle of the most advantageous character for us, and with which begins an important era in our affairs. by this battle the polish forces had made the acquisition of great advantages, both in respect to strategy and tactics, and the highest hopes might reasonably be cherished in regard to the future. it was, as it were, a return of the state of things brought about by the victory of iganie, and which menaced the enemy with total ruin. our main army was then near to warsaw, composed of a force of considerable strength, and which, under the command of skrzynecki, had been victorious in every battle. new troops had been formed there. neither provisions nor forage had failed, for they were constantly sent from warsaw to the army, in whatever quarter it might be. the russian army was, in the mean while, suffering under all the disadvantages which we have before described. wearied and discouraged by the disasters of the campaign, posted in regions which they had devastated, and therefore suffering from scarcity; without hospitals for their sick and their wounded,--for the towns which contained them had been destroyed,--and with the cholera ravaging their ranks, that army was in the most precarious situation. the communications between the russian provinces and the army were entirely cut off by the polish lithuanian corps. they received their provisions exclusively from prussia; and, but for this assistance of prussia, no one can doubt that diebitsch would have been, before this, under the necessity of withdrawing from the country. the reader will also remember that at this time, the brave and skilful general chrzanowski, had obtained repeated advantages over rudiger, in the environs of zamosc, and that the little corps of general chlapowski which had entered, on the th of may, the russian department of bialystok, was acting with great advantages. from the baltic to the black sea, the provinces of podolia, volhynia, ukraine, as well as lithuania and samogitia, containing a population of twelve millions of inhabitants, were in a state of excitement, and would soon have risen in the holy cause. they were waiting only the arrival of our victorious troops. it cannot but be assumed, therefore, that if general gielgud, at the head of the polish corps in lithuania, had acted with promptness and energy, the most happy results would have been achieved. it is, therefore, with the deepest chagrin, that i have to record that from the moment of the termination of the fortunate battle of raygrod, all the operations of general gielgud were not only deficient in energy, but altogether wrongly planned. the first fault which he committed, was not continuing to press the attack upon general saken, after he had retired from raygrod. under the pretext that the soldiers were fatigued, the corps was encamped. this pretext was groundless, for the soldiers themselves demanded to be led in pursuit of the enemy. in this camp we passed the whole night, and left it [_plan_ xxxiii.] at the hour of nine the following morning; having given fifteen hours to the retreating enemy. we continued our march to kowno, through the duchy of augustow. on the th of may, we arrived at suwalki ( ) its capital, and remained there a day and a night, without any conceivable reason. the enemy, profiting by the slowness of our movements, escaped the certain destruction with which he had been threatened. on the st of june, we arrived at kalwaryia ( ), and at that town our corps was very uselessly divided into two parts, the larger (_a_), under general gielgud, took the road to gielgudyszki ( ), on the niemen,[ ] to pass the river at that point. general dembinski, with the remainder of the corps (_b_), continued on the main road, and on the d of june arrived at alexota ( ). this separation of our forces into two bodies, to pass the niemen at gielgudyszki, was not recommended by any conceivable advantage, and, indeed, operated much to our injury. this plan of operations was also in opposition to the instructions, not only of the general in chief, but of the national government, and obstructed the rapid execution of the great designs of the campaign. in any plan for the occupation of a foreign country, the first object should be to get possession of the principal towns, for at those points are chiefly concentrated both the moral and physical resources of the country. of lithuania, the town of wilno ( ) is the capital. against it all our plans should have been directed; and, in fact, the instructions of the government to general gielgud were all to this effect. by a prompt occupation of that city, we should have unquestionably reaped the greatest advantages. as wilno was the residence of the principal officers of the government of the province, it would have been there that all the arrangements could best be made for a provisional administration, and for the convocation of a conventional diet of the people. in regard also to the formation of new forces, wilno was the place that presented the greatest facilities. taking all these circumstances into view, it must be conceded that after the battle of raygrod, the first object of general gielgud ought to have been to march upon and to occupy wilno with the utmost promptness. with this view, his course should have been, after masking his movement at kowno, to have passed the niemen (n) at rumszyski ( ), a village which was about sixteen english miles above kowno ( ) and in the direction of wilno, while gielgudyszki, on the other hand, was thirty-two miles below kowno, and forty-eight from rumszyski, and out of the direction of wilno. with the exception of that of general saken, no other russian force was interposed between us and wilno. indeed the corps of general chlapowski (_c_), with which he had traversed the department of bialystok, was at that moment between kowno and wilno, and had we passed at rumszyski, we should have been within but one day's march of him. it is evident, then, that wilno would have fallen into our hands without a blow. all these advantages were sacrificed by making the passage at gielgudyszki. general saken, meeting with no interruption, thus escaped a second time, and marched from kowno to wilno. at the same time several other russian corps began to concentrate themselves at wilno. the corps of general dembinski, having maintained a moderate fire upon kowno for two days, in order to mask our movements from the enemy, marched for gielgudyszki, to follow the other corps in the passage of the river, at that point, on the th of june. our troops thus entered the province of lithuania, an interesting day for us, thus engaged in the effort to re-unite this dissevered portion of our country to its ancient parent. the manner in which the inhabitants of every village received us, expressive of the warmest satisfaction, showed that they regarded us as brothers. this reception deeply affected both soldiers and officers. they hailed us as their deliverers, and it is now a mournful reflection that, owing to the misconduct of our commanders, that enthusiasm, instead of leading to happy results, proved, in the end, only an aggravation of their misfortunes. * * * * * leaving the corps of general gielgud upon the niemen, we will return again to the operations of the grand army, and of the different detached corps. our main body, which, after the battle of ostrolenka, retired towards warsaw, was now at praga, where the head-quarters of the commander in chief were fixed. general skrzynecki, during the repose of the army, occupied himself with its re-organization. in the environs of zamosc, the corps of general chrzanowski, in which the brave general romarino commanded a brigade, was sufficient to keep the different russian corps in check. on the d of june, the russian army, which, up to the present time, continued in the environs of ostrolenka, on the left bank of the narew, commenced its operations upon the right bank of that river. a considerable corps, amounting to , men, passed that river in the neighborhood of prasnysz. the principal object of this corps was not to re-ommence hostilities, but to protect the large transports of provisions which were sent daily from prussia. in the environs of brzesc was the corps of general kreutz. the russian army thus fed by prussia, remained inactive in their position at ostrolenka, during which interval, and while he was perhaps contriving new plans for our subjugation, occurred the sudden death of marshal diebitsch. he died at kleczkowo, not far from ostrolenka, on the th of june.[ ] the provisional command of the russian army was taken by general toll. if the reader should examine closely the operations of the two armies after the battle of ostrolenka, he will, perhaps, be astonished at their inactivity. he will, however, acknowledge that the blame of that inactivity cannot rest upon the polish side. the retreat which we made was necessary; first, for the sake of the re-organizing of the army; secondly, for the object of leading the enemy to the environs of praga, which were in a state of devastation, and generally into the region between the bug and the liwiec, where he would not be able to support himself; and in this manner to force him either to attack the fortifications of praga, to attempt a passage of the vistula, or to evacuate the country. that either of the two first would be attempted, while the insurrections in lithuania and samogitia, &c, were in progress, and after our success at raygrod, was hardly to have been expected; for the one would cost too great a sacrifice of men, and the other would be attended with too much hazard. if, then, the russian forces undertook nothing, it was a consequence of their critical situation. we can, in fact, safely assume that it was their intention to evacuate the country; for to have obtained sufficient supplies by their own means was almost impracticable. when, therefore, this army remained there, it was only because it was fed by prussia, who did not scruple openly to succor the enemy in his perilous position, by sending enormous transports by the roads of neydenburg and mlawa. it was those transports which saved the russian army from the utmost extremity. i leave to the reader to judge, then, whether it was with one enemy alone that the poles had to contend. the prussian government, which arrested all the volunteers who were passing through its territory to augment our ranks, and which stopped all the aids of money and arms sent to us by the generous friends of liberty in other countries, took every occasion to aid and protect our enemy. if that government has satisfied its own inhuman will, by this interference to injure a cause so sacred as that of the poles, they have unintentionally aided that cause by raising its merit in the eyes of the present and future ages, who will know with what difficulties we had to struggle. in return for these good offices of the prussian government, the poles will only say,--przyidzie kryska na malyska,'--'every one has his turn.' if the two main armies were at rest, it was not so with the corps in the palatinate of lublin, where general chrzanowski beat, on the th of june, general rudiger, between zamosc and uchania, and took from him numerous prisoners. general rudiger was forced, by this action, to retire to lublin, and to cease offensive operations. general chrzanowski then prepared to surprise this corps, with the aid of the garrison of zamosc. it was on the th of june, that after being apprized of the continual victories of general chrzanowski, the general in chief concluded to re-commence hostilities. his plan was, to act in concert with this corps, and to crush the enemy in all the southern parts of the kingdom. he would afterwards have to do only with the russian main army, which had commenced passing the narew and entering into the palatinate of plock, to keep its communications open with prussia, and where it would have been in a manner cooped up between the narew and the vistula, with insurrectionized lithuania in its rear, and our army in its front or flank, according as that army should operate, at stanislawow, at wyskow, or at ostrolenka. it was here again that our commander in chief felt his hopes renewed, confiding always in the fortunate result of the operations in lithuania, which had so happily commenced; but he was to be again mournfully disappointed, by the pusillanimity of the generals to whom the all-important expedition to lithuania had been entrusted. footnotes: [footnote : this disposition was made, expressly with the view of confirming the russian general in the idea, that he was opposed by colonel sierakowski alone.] [footnote : the reader will allow me to give some details of this charge of cavalry, which was, indeed, of an extraordinary character. at the moment that the russian centre began to waver;--with the view to continue and augment the disorder of the enemy, and to break their front, order was given to the cavalry to push their attacks, without intermission, on the sides of the great road. with this force was the st squadron of the lancers of poznan, of between and men. this squadron threw themselves upon the russian columns, and, simultaneously with them, entered the town, which was full of the enemy's infantry. far from being discouraged by this overwhelming force, the brave poznanians penetrated the different streets, and continued their attack on the enemy on every side. but the russian infantry protected themselves within the houses, and behind the walls, and commenced a fire of musquetry, which fell like hail upon this brave handful of lancers, so that it would have been thought that not a man would have escaped. it was impossible for our lancers either to advance or retire, for the streets before them were commanded by artillery, and the enemy's columns of infantry had closed in behind them; there was only one outlet for them, which was by a small street, issuing out of the town to the left, and that was also occupied by the enemy. there was no alternative but to force their way through it. our hulans then, forming a phalanx of lances, opened a passage through the enemy, and quitted the town. it was here that the brave mycielski fell. the brave poznanians, leaving the town, by the side of the lake, whither the russian right wing had retreated and were about entering the city, presented to the russians the impression that the city was in possession of our troops, and supposing themselves between two fires, they no longer hesitated to lay down their arms to the pursuing force.] [footnote : gielgudyszki was the paternal estate of the polish general.] [footnote : the reader may be curious to know some details of the career of marshal diebitsch. he was born in silesia, not far from wroclaw, the capital of that province. his father was a major in the prussian service, and young diebitsch was sent by him at an early age to the military school at berlin. it was, perhaps, in about the year , that he first entered the russian military service, as a cadet in one of the regiments of the guard, from which he was, in , transferred to the corps of engineers. in this service he advanced rapidly, not so much by real talent, as by a certain art which he had of exhibiting himself to the best advantage. in the place of aid-de-camp of the late emperor alexander, to which he was soon advanced, he was known to have intrigued in opposition to the interest of poland. these intrigues, as well as those which he afterwards practised, to supersede wittgenstein, in the command of the army against turkey, degraded him in the esteem of all upright men. he was never regarded by us as a general of talent, and the truth of our estimate will be by this time conceded. one cannot but be impressed with the fate which has awaited the two greatest enemies of poland, diebitsch and constantine. arrested by providence, amid the persecutions which they had inflicted, and were designing to inflict upon our country, they perished in disgrace. they died acting the part of the enemies of humanity, and their names thus rest, sealed with the eternal reproach of history. here is a fate which ought to alarm despots. the thought that in the moment that they are most deeply engaged in contriving the oppression of their fellow-men, a sudden death may come upon them, and thus stigmatize their names forever, should teach them an impressive lesson.] chapter xxi. general gielgud advances into lithuania.--allows a russian corps to pass within a league of him unperceived.--operations on wilno.--enumeration of our present force.--plan of a simultaneous attack upon wilno on opposite sides by the corps in two divisions.--general dembinski engages the enemy with the smaller part of the corps.--being unsupported by gielgud, is forced to retreat.--general gielgud attacks wilno.--battle of wilno.--a retreat is commenced.--prodigious efforts of the polish cavalry in protecting this retreat.--consequences of the repulse from wilno.--the removal of general gielgud is called for.--general chlapowski consents to take the virtual command of the corps, in the post of chef d'etat major.--consideration on the state of things consequent to the battle of wilno.--details of the admirable plan of operations proposed by colonel valentin. the forces of general gielgud having thus crossed the niemen, passed a night at rewdany, and the next day [_plan_ xxxiv.] marched on to czaykiszki ( ), in the direction of keydany. we cannot understand why general gielgud did not attack malinowski (_b_), who passed at the distance of half a league from us, at the head of , men, on his march to wilno. it is, we believe, a thing unheard of in the history of military affairs, that an inferior force should be suffered to pass, unmolested, so near a hostile army. it discovered the very last degree of carelessness, to enter a country in the occupation of the enemy, without sending out even the ordinary reconnoissances. general malinowski,[ ] with his corps, which ought to have fallen into our hands, escaped, and made the second russian force which had owed its safety to our negligence, and contributed a new accession to the forces which we should have to contend with. [illustration: _xxxiv._ ] on the th of june, the corps arrived at keydany ( ), in which place it was joined by general chlapowski with his corps, which had so successfully traversed the departments of bialystok and grodno. this force, which, on quitting xienzopol, amounted to scarce , men, received reinforcements of cavalry and infantry, from the insurgents of the provinces, through which it had passed.[ ] from the new forces, ten squadrons of cavalry, counting nearly , horse, and two battalions of infantry, amounting to nearly , men, were formed. on the th of june, the united corps quitted keydany, to march to zeymy ( ), where we arrived at night. in this little town we remained several days, we know not for what object. from this place general chlapowski was sent with a detachment, consisting of the st regiment of lancers and five pieces of light artillery, to make reconnoissances in the direction of wilno. the new forces of which we have just spoken, were attached to the main body, under general gielgud. a few hundred of insurgent cavalry of lithuania also arrived at zeymy, which were joined to the lancers of poznan and the d regiment of lancers. on the day of our departure, general szymanowski received orders to leave for polonga with a small corps of insurgents (_c_) from the department of szawla. this corps consisted of , infantry, light cavalry, and two pieces of cannon. as it was from zeymy that we commenced our operations upon wilno, after having organized the new forces; and as from this point begins an era in the history of the expedition, it may be well to give a new enumeration of our forces. our infantry consisted of battalions of infantry, amounting in all to nearly , men, including a body of sappers; our cavalry of squadrons, amounting to about , ; and our artillery of pieces of cannon. to these forces we might add a detachment of men and horse, acting independently as a corps of partizans, under colonel zaliwski. this corps of colonel zaliwski was formed in the duchy of augustow, with the destination to operate there upon all the demonstrations of the enemy, on his communications, his magazines, his baggage, his transportations of provisions, &c; and when it is considered that this officer remained for four months thus successfully employed, and exposed to the enemy's forces on all sides, a particular acknowledgment is due to him for his meritorious services. in the above enumeration we have, of course, excluded the force of general szymanowski, which, as we have stated, received another destination. with the forces which we have enumerated, general gielgud left zeymy on the th of june. the operations on wilno were planned for an attack on two sides, and with that view general dembinski was detached with a small corps (_d_) of , infantry, cavalry, and pieces of cannon. this general was to attack wilno on the road from wilkomierz to that city, at the same time that the larger force (_e_) made the attack on the road from kowno, on the left bank of the river wiliia. this plan demanded the most exact communication between the two attacking corps. that communication was not observed, and, in fact, as it will be seen, the plan itself was not executed. the corps of general dembinski reached wieprz ( ), on the river swieta, on the th of june. on the next day it passed that river, and arrived at szerwinty ( ). from thence, after resting for a few hours, the corps marched to myszogola ( ), where it passed the night. on the th, leaving this village, after a march of two leagues, the corps began to meet with small detachments of the enemy's circassian cavalry.[ ] general dembinski gave the order to throw forward the flankers. the circassians commenced a retreating fire, and, thus engaged with them, we approached within a league of wilno, taking a position at karczma-biskupia ( ), or the tavern of the bishop, a large public house, surrounded by small dwellings, and which was in rather a commanding situation. on the th, general dembinski sent parties of cavalry to the right as far as the river wiliia (w), and to the left as far as kalwaria ( ), to make reconnoissances, and advanced with the body of the corps in the centre, for the same object. in these reconnoissances a constant fire of flankers was kept up, with which the whole day was occupied. it was a great fault in general dembinski, to have commenced this fire, without having any intelligence of the situation of the corps of general gielgud, with which he was to act in concert. on the morning of the same day, in fact, on which general dembinski was thus employed, the corps of general gielgud was at the distance of thirty-six english miles from him. by these imprudent reconnoissances, general dembinski laid open all his forces to the knowledge of the enemy. of this fault the enemy took advantage on the next day. on the th, at sunrise, clouds of circassian cavalry made their appearance, and commenced attacks upon our flanks, endeavoring to turn them. several columns of russian infantry then approached, and manoeuvred upon our centre, on which also pieces of russian artillery of large calibre commenced firing. other columns of cavalry manoeuvred upon our wings. as far as we could judge, the enemy's forces amounted to about , men. general dembinski, seeing the strength of the enemy, and appreciating his own danger, gave orders for a retreat, which was commenced under a terrible fire from the enemy's artillery, and from his flankers, who harassed us on every side. the retreat was executed in the greatest order, as far as myszogola, a distance of miles from our position, with the loss only of some fifty cavalry. on arriving at myszogola, general dembinski, concerned at receiving no intelligence from general gielgud, sent an officer with a report of what had occurred. that officer found general gielgud with his corps, at oyrany, occupied in making the passage of the wiliia, at that place. the report of general dembinski, as we can assert from personal knowledge, gave a faithful description of the occurrences of the preceding days, and contained a request, that, in case he (dembinski) was expected to maintain the position in which he then was, general gielgud must send him reinforcements of infantry and artillery. the report finished with the suggestion, that it would be, under all circumstances, the course most expedient, to re-unite his forces with those of general gielgud. upon the receipt of this report, to which general gielgud gave little attention, orders were sent to general dembinski to depart for podbrzeze ( ), eight miles to the left of the road which leads from wilkomierz to wilno. the pretext of this order was to attack wilno on the side of kalwaryi, and to pass the river wiliia at that point. thus, instead of being allowed to unite his corps with that of general gielgud, as he had proposed, general dembinski was ordered to remove to a still greater distance, a disposition for which we can conceive no possible motive. on the th of june, the day on which general gielgud commenced his attack on wilno, general dembinski was thus employed on his march, without an object, to podbrzeze. battle of wilno. [_plan_ xxxv.] the battle of wilno was, in point of tactics, simply a strong attack upon the russian centre (a), with the view, by forcing it, to pass on to the occupation of the city. the adoption of such a plan supposes an ignorance of the nature of the position of the enemy, and of the strength of his forces.[ ] indeed any plan of attacking this city on its strongest side, that toward kowno, was almost impossible of execution. [illustration: _xxxv. p. _] [illustration: _xxxiii. p. _] the battle commenced on the morning of the th of june. the enemy was dislodged from his first position, which was about one mile from the city. their retreat was caused by a spirited charge, by the st regiment of lancers, upon the russian artillery, and the columns of infantry in the centre. the enemy, on quitting this position, took another of great strength on the heights called gory-konarskie (b). this strong position was already covered with fortifications. the right wing of the enemy (c), composed of strong columns of infantry (_a_), rested on the river wiliia; the centre, (a), embracing all their artillery, which consisted of pieces of cannon (_b_), occupied the heights above mentioned; the declivity of those heights was covered with sharp-shooters (_d_), concealed behind small heaps of earth, thrown up for this purpose. the left wing of the enemy (d) was entirely composed of cavalry (_e_). after driving the russians from their first position, our artillery (_f_) was brought forward and placed opposite the enemy's centre. this is to be regarded as a great fault. at the same time that our artillery was thus disposed, our left wing received orders to attack the right wing of the enemy. the columns of our infantry (_g_), composed in part from the new lithuanian levies,[ ] threw themselves with such fury upon the enemy, that they did not give them even time to fire, but fought them hand to hand: an immense slaughter ensued, and the russians began to give way before this desperate assault; but at this very moment, our artillery, who could not sustain themselves under the overpowering fire of the enemy from his commanding position, began to fall back; and gave time to the russians to send fresh bodies of infantry to support their right wing. our left wing, being unable to sustain a conflict with the reinforced strength of the enemy, and apprehensive of being cut off, to which hazard they were exposed by the retreat of our artillery, began to give way also, and upon that a retreat commenced along our whole line, under the protection of the cavalry (_h_). the cavalry, both old and new, performed prodigies of valor, in executing this duty. single squadrons were obliged to make charges against whole regiments of the enemy, who constantly pressed upon us, with the object of throwing our forces into disorder. all the efforts of the enemy were thwarted, by this determined bravery. the russians themselves have borne testimony to the unparalleled efforts of our cavalry on that occasion. our lancers seemed to feel the imminent danger of permitting the russian cavalry to fall upon our ranks, and they fought with the energy of desperation. they repelled the attacks of a cavalry three times superior in force, and which was in part composed of regiments of the imperial guard. the enemy having been thus foiled in his attacks, our forces repassed in safety the bridge of oyrany, leaving it destroyed. the battle of wilno, so disastrous to us, was our greatest fault in the expedition to lithuania; and it was the first of a series of disasters. the evil consequences of this battle did not rest with ourselves; they fell heavily upon the inhabitants of wilno, whose hopes of acting in concert with us were disappointed. at the sound of our cannon, a revolt of the inhabitants was commenced, and after the repulse of our forces, arrests and imprisonments of course followed. this unfortunate battle, in fine, disorganized all the plans of the main army, and had a most discouraging effect upon the spirits both of the army and the nation. an attack upon wilno, at a time when all the enemy's forces were concentrated there, should only have been made upon the basis of the most extensive and carefully adjusted combinations. a successful attack on wilno would have been a difficult achievement, even by a force equal to that of the enemy, when the strong positions of the place are considered. what then shall we say of an attack, with a force amounting to but one third of that of the enemy, and made also, in broad day, upon the most defensible point of the enemy's position? but, as if these disadvantages were not enough, general dembinski, after having been compromitted at myszggola, instead of being enabled to aid in this attack, was, by the orders of general gielgud, at the very moment of the attack, marching in the direction of podbrzeze, [( ) _plan_ xxxiv,] and was also by this separation exposed even to be cut off by the enemy, who could easily have done it, by sending a detachment for this object on the road from wilno to wilkomierz. this succession of inconceivable faults arrested the attention of the corps, and created a universal dissatisfaction. the removal of general gielgud, and the substitution of general chlapowski in the chief command, who had distinguished himself so much in the departments of bialystok and grodno, was loudly called for. general chlapowski was unwilling to take the chief command, but, to satisfy the wishes of the corps, he consented to take the office of chef d'etat major, a post in which he was virtually chief, having the exclusive responsibility of every operation. to this arrangement general gielgud readily consented. it took effect on the evening of the th. from that day general chlapowski was the director of all our operations. after all these disasters, which had both morally and physically weakened us, and with a clear knowledge of the amount of the enemy's strength, our leaders should have been satisfied that it must be out of the question with us to act any longer on the offensive, and that our whole plan of operations on samogitia ought to be abandoned. we will give the reader an exposition of the views of a great majority of the officers of the corps, upon this point, formed even during the battle of wilno. it was near mid-day on the th, and when our line was commencing their retreat, that colonel valentin, with several other officers, addressed themselves to general gielgud, represented to him the disastrous situation in which we were placed, and proposed to him a plan of operations adapted to our new circumstances. there was, in their opinion, but one course to pursue. this was, to abandon our whole plan of operations between the rivers niemen, dwina, and wiliia. the space enclosed between these rivers, the baltic sea and the prussian territory, was a dangerous position for us, as it contracted our movements, and at the same time exposed us to being surrounded by the superior forces of the enemy. colonel valentin designated, as the most eligible line of operations, the space between kowno and lida. from this oblique line we could at any moment menace wilno. he proposed to occupy kowno, and to fortify that town as well as alexota and lida in the very strongest manner. on this line we should have been in a situation to profit by any advantageous opportunities which the negligence of the enemy might leave to us, of acting upon wilno; and if we might not be fortunate enough to surprise that city, we should, at least, compel the russians to keep a strong force within its walls, as a garrison. the town of lida touches upon the great forest of bialowiez. it is situated at the meeting of three great roads, viz. those from poland, from volhynia, and from the province of black russia, a circumstance in its position which made it a place of great importance. the communications of the town with the neighboring forest were extremely easy, and this forest colonel valentin designed a place of concentration for all the insurgent forces of lithuania and the other provinces. he proposed to fortify, in the strongest manner, all the roads which concentrated here, and thus to make the position difficult and dangerous of access to the enemy. this forest, which is more than one hundred and twenty english miles in length, and from thirty to sixty in breadth, reaches the great road which passes by bielsk, from warsaw to st petersburgh and moscow, and extends northwards to the environs of wilno. by means of prompt operations, according as circumstances might direct, our forces could act upon each of these roads, and could obstruct all the communications of the enemy with st petersburgh and moscow. colonel valentin, in proposing this plan, also gave much weight to the consideration that our main army under general skrzynecki, was victorious in the vicinity of warsaw, and that general chrzanowski was with a corps in the environs of zamosc, having been victorious over rudiger, and on the point of entering into volhynia; with this latter corps, a junction could easily be effected, and the two corps could act in concert, for the support of the insurrections which might occur in all the provinces between the dnieper and the black sea; and even if all these great advantages, which we should have been justified in counting upon, had not been attained, we should, at least, have compelled the enemy to retain a great body of forces in lithuania, and thus have hindered him from reinforcing his main army.[ ] footnotes: [footnote : this general malinowski, as was generally understood, was a native of mohilew, or little russia, a province of ancient poland, and had been long in the russian service. the lithuanians and samogitians had much reason to complain of his conduct in those provinces.] [footnote : among the lithuanians who hastened to join our ranks, and aid in the restoration of their beloved country, were several of the fair sex,--generally from the principal families of the province. there were personally known to me the following, whose names i deem it an honor to record;--plater, rasinowicz, karwoska, matusiewicz, zawadzka, and lipinska. the countess plater, perhaps, should receive a more especial notice. this young heroine joined our corps with a regiment of from five to six hundred lithuanians, raised and equipped at her own expense, and she was uniformly at their head in the midst of the severest engagements. how strongly do such examples prove the sacred nature of our cause! what claims must not their country have presented to the minds of these females of the most exalted character, to have induced them thus to go out of their natural position in society, and to sacrifice domestic happiness, wealth, life itself, in the effort to rescue that country from her degradation!] [footnote : this was a formidable force from the province of circassia, consisting of two regiments, amounting to about , men, which had recently arrived at wilno. it was a species of light cavalry, of the most efficient character. the fleetness of their horses was such, that they would often throw themselves in the very midst of our flankers, and having discharged their arms, retreat in safety. they were armed with two pistols, a long fusil, a sabre, a long knife, and a lance.] [footnote : as we have been informed, wilno was defended by five corps, consisting in all, of about , men, under generals kuruta, tolstoy, saken, malinowski, and szyrman.] [footnote : this lithuanian force consisted of the regiment of the countess plater, who accompanied them in the charge.] [footnote : this valuable officer, colonel valentin, unfortunately lost his life on the day after the battle of wilno, while bathing in the wiliia. the regrets of his brother officers were aggravated by their sense of the value of those wise counsels, the suggestion of which was the last act of his life. he had every quality of heart and intellect for the highest military station.] chapter xxii. operations of the main army.--expedition under jankowski.--general chrzanowski having driven rudiger from his position, crosses the vistula, but returns to act in concert with general jankowski against the enemy near kock.--details of general jankowski's movement.--he remains inactive within sight of the fire of the corps with which he was to co-operate.--other evidences of treason.--generals jankowski and bukowski are arrested and ordered for trial.--view of the advantages that were sacrificed by this misconduct.--discovery of a plot to liberate and arm the russian prisoners at warsaw, and to deliver the city to the enemy.--state of the public mind induced by these events. from these melancholy occurrences in lithuania, let us turn to follow the operations of the grand army. on the th and th of june, a division of infantry, under the command of general muhlberg, left praga, and took the direction of the environs of stanislawow and jadow. in the latter place this division surprised a strong detachment of the enemy in camp, and took many prisoners. thence they were instructed to follow the left bank of the liwiec as far as the environs of kaluszyn, and even to zelechow, clearing each bank of the presence of the enemy. this division was then to join itself with the division of cavalry of general jankowski, which on that day left for kock. those two divisions combined, were to endeavor to act upon the different corps of the enemy which were pressed by the corps of general chrzanowski. the latter general had commenced the offensive on the th, and had driven the corps of general rudiger from its position at krasny-taw, and compelled it to retreat to lublin, continually pursued by him. on the d, he took that town by storm. the enemy was obliged to evacuate it in disorder, leaving a great number killed, wounded, and prisoners, and to take the direction of kock. the corps of rudiger would have been inevitably destroyed, if another russian corps of , strong had not marched to its aid. general chrzanowski, apprized of the arrival of this reinforcement, quitted the pursuit, for a more favorable moment; and, to avoid an engagement with this combined force of the enemy, as well as to escort the prisoners, which he had taken at lublin, to a place of safety, he repassed the vistula, at pulawy. he had scarce reached the opposite side of the river, when he received the intelligence that the division of general jankowski, reinforced by a brigade of infantry, was approaching kock, where was already the corps of general rudiger, and whither the corps of general keisarow, above mentioned, was hastening to join him. in order, therefore, to take between the two fires all the forces which might be collected at kock, general chrzanowski promptly repassed the river, reached the environs of kock, and waited impatiently for the attack of general jankowski, in the opposite direction; but jankowski delayed his movement, and allowed the corps of kiesarow to join rudiger. the following are the details of this expedition, as they were related by an officer of the division of muhlberg, and which exhibit satisfactory evidence of treason on the part of general jankowski. 'the issue of this expedition, which could have had the most brilliant results, has filled us with grief and indignation. we were marching in the utmost haste upon kock, with the hope of beating rudiger. on our route, at stoczek, for our misfortune, we were joined by the division of cavalry under general jankowski, who then took the command. we ought to have passed the wieprz, to meet rudiger, and cut him off. suddenly news was brought to us that the enemy had passed the wieprz, at lysobyki, with , infantry, sixteen squadrons of cavalry, and ten pieces of cannon. general jankowski then called a council of war, at which the following plans were adopted. general turno was to attack the enemy, in the direction of sorokomla, and general jankowski was to come to his support at the first sound of his cannon. the brigade of general romarino (detached from the corps of general chrzanowski, and destined to act as an independent corps) was to act upon the left wing, and general bukowski, with a brigade of cavalry, upon the right wing of the enemy by bialobrzegi. this plan, which in the conviction of all our officers would have exterminated the corps of general rudiger, and the execution of which was reserved to general jankowski, came to nothing. 'general turno, trusting in the faithful execution of the plan, attacked the enemy with courage and vigor. he was sure of receiving support on three sides. he made head against the enemy for six hours, while generals jankowski and bukowski, at the distance of about three miles from him, hearing and even seeing the fire of the action, remained in a state of complete inaction. nay more, a russian detachment took possession, almost before their eyes, of the ammunition and baggage of a whole regiment, and they did not stir to prevent it. general turno fought with bravery and sangfroid, notwithstanding that none came to his support, and did not retire till he received orders to do so. the whole corps was indignant at the conduct of jankowski, and his brother-in-law, bukowski, who had evidently acted the part of traitors.' general skrzynecki was deeply afflicted with the sad result of an expedition, which, based upon infallible calculations, had promised the very surest success. the event was of the most disastrous consequence to us. if the corps of general rudiger had been crushed, as it certainly could have been, the combined corps of chrzanowski, muhlberg, and jankowski, could have acted upon all the corps of the enemy, which might be found between the wieprz, the swider, and the liwiec. as those corps were quite distant from their main army, which was now upon the right of the narew, and as they were even without a free communication with each other, they could have each been beaten in detail, by a prompt action on our part. i leave to the reader to decide, whether, after we should have obtained such successes over these detached corps, we could not have acted with certain success against the russian main army. the corps of general rudiger, which thus escaped its fate, left for the environs of lukow, whither it was followed by general chrzanowski. the corps of general jankowski returned in the direction of macieiowiec and laskarzew, and the division of general muhlberg returned to minsk. the general in chief deprived generals jankowski and bukowski of their command, and ordered them to be tried by a court-martial. but other and even more affecting disasters were awaiting us. poland, which had been so often made a sacrifice of, through her own generosity and confidence, now nourished upon her bosom the monsters who were plotting her destruction. on the th of june, general skrzynecki received information of a conspiracy which had for its object the delivering up of warsaw into the hands of the enemy, by liberating and arming the russian prisoners. several generals, of whom distrust had been felt, and who had been deprived of their commands when the revolution broke out, having been known as the vile instruments of the former government, were at the bottom of this plot. of this painful intelligence, general skrzynecki immediately apprized the national government, who, relying on his report, caused to be arrested general hurtig, former commander of the fortress of zamosc, and a base instrument of constantine, general salacki, colonel slupecki, the russian chamberlain fenshawe, a mr lessel, and a russian lady, named bazanow. generals jankowski and bukowski were also implicated in the conspiracy. this band of traitors intended to get possession of the arsenal, to arm the russian prisoners, and to destroy the bridges; (in order to cut off all communication with the army, which was then on the right bank of the vistula;) and the russian army, advertised of this movement, was then to pass to the left bank of the vistula, at plock or dobzyn, and take possession of warsaw. those traitors succeeded in setting at large a great number of russian prisoners at czenstochowa. what a terror must poor poland have been to the russian cabinet, which did not find it enough to have deluged her with their immense forces, and to have engaged all the neighboring cabinets to aid them against her, but must go farther, and, by the employment of such vile means, attempt to kindle hostilities in her interior, and to subject her at the same time to a civil and an external war! they had good cause for these desperate attempts. from the earliest stage of the conflict, they had seen that the poles, nerved by the consciousness of the justice of their cause, were capable of crushing the force which they had sent to execute the will of the despot. unable to meet us in the open field, they must invent some new method, no matter how base, to accomplish their end. it was through the instrumentality of their intrigues that the dictatorship was prolonged. it was by such intrigues, that the apple of discord was thrown into our national congress, and even into the ranks of that handful of brave men who had sworn to sacrifice themselves in the cause of their country. they employed their vile accomplices to betray us, and they succeeded. the discovery of this extensive treason struck the people with consternation and dismay. it drove them to a state bordering on desperation. when poland had sent and was sending her sons, and even her daughters, to the field of death;--when she was sacrificing every thing to achieve her deliverance, and was awaiting the fruits of such sacrifices, sure, if not to conquer, at least to fall with honor,--she sees that all is in vain--that her holy purposes are mocked at, and that all her noble efforts are thwarted! can we be surprised, then, at the state of the popular mind which ensued? the state of feeling which these events caused was aggravated by the reflection, that the surveillance of certain individuals, of whom distrust had been already entertained, had been more than once demanded; and that from an early period it was urged upon the government, that the russian prisoners, particularly those of distinction, should be carefully watched, and prevented from holding free communication together, or with others. so far, however, from such care having been taken, the very jews were permitted to communicate with them constantly, and to bring them intelligence of the events of the war. can it be wondered then, that the neglect of these repeated warnings, and the tremendous consequences which had well nigh followed this neglect, should have weighed upon the minds of the people, and have even brought the national government itself into suspicion? it was, in fact, from this moment, that the nation began first to look with dissatisfaction and distrust upon that government, upon prince czartoriski its head, and even upon the general in chief himself. the melancholy news of the treason of jankowski filled the minds of the patriots with bitter anticipations; they naturally foreboded, that if such treasons could be perpetrated in the grand army, under the very eyes of the general in chief, the danger might be still greater in the more distant corps. their forebodings were but too well justified by the events which took place in lithuania, the intelligence of which was soon received at warsaw. chapter xxiii. general chlapowski arrives at keydany, having ordered general dembinski to wilkomierz.--the position of the two forces and their line of operations.--examination of these arrangements.--neglect of the important position of kowno.--general chlapowski, at keydany, proposes to form a provisional government, and obtain a levy of troops.--dispositions of the lithuanians, as effected by the mismanagement of our leaders.--advantages offered to the enemy by the delay at keydany.--brave defence of kowno, by the small force left there.--skirmish at wilkomierz.--the opportunity of concentrating all the forces at keydany, and repassing the niemen, is neglected.--the enemy presses his pursuit.--battle of rosseyny.--attack on szawla.--loss of the ammunition and baggage of the corps.--the corps retreats in order to kurzany, protected by a rear guard of cavalry and light artillery.--at kurzany the corps is subdivided into three parts.--destination and strength of each.--examination of this plan. general chlapowski, whom we shall hereafter name as having the chief command of the lithuanian force, arrived on the night of the d of june at keydany, having sent orders to general dembinski to withdraw with his corps, and to march to wilkomierz. ( ) [_plan_ xxxiv.] the corps of general dembinski arrived, on the st, at szerwinty, and on the d, at wilkomierz. on quitting podbrzeze, general dembinski left a small detachment in the environs of myszogola, to act as partizans. the position of our corps was then as follows;--the larger force was at keydany ( ). the corps of dembinski was at wilkomierz, and a small corps (_c_) under the command of general szymanowski was in the environs of szawla. our line of operations was on the river swienta (s) and along the wiliia (w), for a short distance below the junction of the former river with it. to defend the passage of those rivers against the enemy, the following detachments were designated. kowno ( ) was occupied by two battalions of lithuanian infantry, recently levied, under the command of colonel kikiernicki, and a squadron of the th regiment of lancers, also lithuanian, and recently formed. at janow ( ) was a battalion of infantry and a squadron of the th lancers, under the command of colonel piwecki. at wieprz were three squadrons of the th lancers. this separation of our forces in lithuania, and, above all, this designation of the most recently organized troops for the defence of the passage of the two rivers, with a full knowledge of the great strength of the enemy, was a gross error. to leave the defence of kowno, a place of so much importance, to three battalions of infantry and a squadron of cavalry, all of them newly formed troops, and that, too, without ammunition, (for they had barely three rounds each,) was a course perfectly inexplicable. besides all this, the river swienta was so shallow as to be fordable by both infantry and cavalry, and in some places even by artillery. why then was that river defended? it was owing, in fact, to good fortune that all these detachments were not cut off. on the arrival of the two corps at keydany and wilkomierz, the organization of a provisional government for the province, was commenced. diets were convoked at these two places, to organize an administration, and to procure levies of forces. although these arrangements were all proper in themselves, yet it was a late hour to undertake them, and no place could have been so well adapted for them as wilno. had the corps of saken been pursued and broken up, wilno would have been ours; and all such arrangements could have been made there under the most favorable circumstances. in that event, the brave lithuanians would have come in from all sides and crowded our ranks, without waiting for any appeal to be made to them. but at present, a new crisis had arrived. we had fought the battle of wilno with a disastrous result. the enemy had become acquainted with the inferiority of our forces, and had begun to understand the errors of our commander, and was prepared to take advantage of them. in fine, the lithuanians themselves, witnessing all this gross mismanagement, became disgusted, and after having once so cheerfully tendered their co-operation, began, at length, to discover that they were sacrificing themselves in vain, and that the fate of the inhabitants of wilno would await them. this people, as we have already stated, had commenced their insurrection two months before they had hopes of any assistance from our forces, and badly armed as they were, they had maintained a partizan warfare during this period with uniform success. we can, therefore, have no reason to reproach them, if after the misconduct which was exhibited before their eyes, they began to be reluctant to join their forces to our own, and chose to reserve the sacrifice of their exertions and their lives for some other occasion, when there might be some hope of useful results. the six or seven days which we passed thus at keydany and wilkomierz, seemed as if designed to invite the enemy to pursue his advantages, and to lead him to the idea of surrounding our forces. the enemy, fortunately for us, did not improve the opportunity which we presented him, but remained inactive. this inactivity, whether it arose from the imbecility of his commanders, or whatever other cause, afforded us an opportunity of changing our plans, and of extricating ourselves from the dangerous position in which we were placed. but instead of this, we awaited his attack. on the th, the enemy commenced an attack upon every point, at wilkomierz, wieprz, janow, and kowno, with his whole force. a corps of , russians, with cannon, commenced the attack on kowno, defended, as we have said, by , new troops. from morning until night, the defence was sustained with great courage. the contest was for the first half of the day in the town itself, and the rest of the day was spent in disputing the passage of the bridge over the wiliia. the russians occupying all the houses upon the banks of the river, and the neighboring heights, commenced a terrible fire of artillery and musquetry upon the bridge, which was defended by a body of infantry, almost without ammunition. at nightfall, colonel kikiernicki, seeing that the russian cavalry had found means of fording the river, ordered a retreat, but remained himself at the head of a single company, defending the bridge, until he learnt that the rest of the corps had passed the town of sloboda, and had gained the heights which are behind the town. upon that bridge, fell the captain of this company, zabiello, a lithuanian. he was shot in the act of cutting away the bridge with his own hands. this company, after having thus sustained their post at the bridge with the greatest bravery, commenced their retreat. the russian cavalry, having succeeded in fording the river, had already commenced acting in their rear. at the same time, the russian columns of infantry were debouching upon the bridge. colonel kikiernicki, perceiving his situation, animated his little corps to make the desperate effort of breaking through the russian cavalry, and of gaining sloboda. his spirit was seconded by his brave followers, and this company of one hundred men, raising the hurrah, forced a passage through the enemy's cavalry, gained sloboda, and, under cover of night, succeeded in joining their comrades.[ ] in this effort, colonel kikiernicki fell wounded, and was made prisoner by the enemy. the detachment, having lost one half of their numbers in the sanguinary attack to which the mismanagement of our general had exposed them, took the road to janow. in this manner ended the attack on kowno, and the russians took possession of that important post, which might be regarded as the key to all our communications with poland. there can be no excuse for not having fortified kowno. it is a town, containing ten or twelve thousand inhabitants, of which one half, perhaps, were jews, but they could have been employed in the construction of the works. it was also most favorably situated for defence, being surrounded by heights on every side. on the same day, sanguinary skirmishes took place at janow, wieprz, and wilkomierz. the two first towns were abandoned. in the attack on wilkomierz, which was successfully repelled, an action took place, in which the lancers of poznan and plock threw themselves upon the flank of russian cavalry, and, after causing severe loss, took about eighty prisoners, consisting of circassians. general dembinski, on the night of the th, learning that our positions of janow and wieprz were abandoned, quitted wilkomierz on the next day, and took the road to szawla. [_plan_ xxxiv, ( )]. although the occupation, by the enemy, of the town of kowno, and the interruption of our whole line of operations on the swienta and wiliia, made our situation very perilous; yet it was still possible to avoid the disasters which followed, and to effect a return to poland. by concentrating all our forces at keydany, we could have effected a passage of the niemen, in the same manner as we had already done in the direction of gielgudyszki, which would have left the enemy in our rear; while on the other side of the niemen, the enemy were not in force enough to prevent our passage. but, instead of doing this, as if to insure our ruin, a small detachment, consisting of four squadrons of cavalry, and the sappers, under the command of colonel koss, were sent to make a bridge over the niemen! this measure is perfectly inexplicable. scarcely had this detachment arrived at the river, and commenced the erection of the bridge, when they were attacked on two sides, by the cuirassiers and the artillery of the enemy. they were saved only by the judicious conduct of colonel koss, who threw himself into the protection of the neighboring forest, and succeeded in rejoining the corps. the loss which we incurred by this expedition, of all our implements for the construction of bridges, was irreparable. from this time, the enemy did not for a moment lose sight of us; and throwing his superior forces upon the great road which leads from keydany, through rosseyny ( ), to szawla, forced us to take that direction which was the most dangerous for us, as the field of operation for our forces was continually becoming more and more contracted. combat of rosseyny. the cause of this action, which it would have been most desirable to have avoided, was a strong attack by the enemy upon the rear-guard of general chlapowski which was marching on the road to szawla. to avoid exposing the rear-guard to a great loss, or even to the chance of it, the command was given, to take position, and the corps was placed in order of battle. the battle of rosseyny, which lasted scarcely four hours, was very sanguinary, and highly honorable to the polish arms. the object of the enemy on this occasion was to surround our left wing. as soon as he perceived that our corps had taken position and was arranged in order of battle, the enemy brought forward his artillery, consisting of pieces of cannon, and commenced a heavy fire upon our centre. this fire did not cause a great loss, for, our position being elevated, the shot struck too low to be effective. a few moments after this fire of artillery was commenced, a strong column of russian cavalry showed itself on our right wing. this column had with it a body of light artillery, which commenced fire also. on our left wing, which was supported upon a marsh, and, for that reason, in little expectation of an attack, but a small force was collected. this wing was composed of a battalion of infantry and the st regiment of lancers. these troops had been placed on this wing to repose from the combats and fatigues of the day and night preceding, in which they had acted as rear-guard. the brave lancers, however, at the first sight of the enemy, demanded of the general to be permitted to make a charge. this permission being given, at the first discharge of the russian artillery, our soldiers threw themselves with impetuosity upon both the cavalry and the artillery of the enemy. the capture of sixty prisoners and the spiking of three cannon were the fruits of this brilliant attack. it was the last charge of that brave regiment. our centre was not less fortunate than our left wing. our artillery being better placed than that of the enemy, several of his pieces were dismounted, and his fire began to slacken. for some hours a light fire of tirailleurs was continued on both sides, when our generals, seeing that the enemy did not renew the attack, gave orders to evacuate the position, and to resume the march for szawla. on the same night, the corps arrived at cytowiany. there our forces were joined by the corps of general rohland, which had had a bloody skirmish at beysagola, [_plan_ xxxiv, ( )] on the same day on which general dembinski was also attacked at poniewieze. the corps of general chlapowski left the next day for the attack of szawla, which was occupied by a russian garrison. the corps of general dembinski, which as we have already stated, was marching by another route upon szawla, arrived there at mid-day on the th. that general, considering the smallness of the russian garrison in this town, consisting only of four battalions of infantry, and six pieces of cannon, after waiting a short time for the arrival of the corps of general chlapowski, concluded to send a summons, by colonel miroszewski, to the russian commandant, proposing to him to surrender, and save a useless effusion of blood. the russian colonel kurow would not accept of these friendly propositions, and compelled general dembinski to order an attack; a very moderate one, however, as he was in hopes that the arrival of our superior forces would soon convince the russian commander that a defence would be useless. in fact, the corps of general chlapowski arrived at about , p.m. at a village about four miles from szawla, where he was met by an officer, sent by general dembinski, with a report of the circumstances which had taken place. indeed, the sound of the cannon and musquetry, ought already to have satisfied general chlapowski that general dembinski was engaged in the attack; but instead of hastening to his assistance he went into camp, and thus remained until two hours past midnight. at two o'clock then, of the morning of the th, the corps took up the march, and arrived by day-break before szawla. attack on szawla. on examining the plan of this battle, and considering the smallness of the russian garrison in szawla, we cannot but be satisfied that the town ought to have been taken at the first assault, and it will seem almost incredible that after having occupied four hours in an unsuccessful attack, we should have at last quitted our position. on arriving on the plain before szawla, the two corps were placed in order of battle. the force of general dembinski changed its position, and formed our left wing. we commenced a fire of artillery from the right wing and the centre, at the same time throwing forward our skirmishers. the enemy had made an entrenchment round the whole town, behind which his infantry was concealed; and upon the right of the town he had constructed a redoubt. on the sides of the town against which the right wing and centre were posted, a general fire of musquetry and artillery was commenced, under the cover of which our light troops endeavored to take possession of the ramparts. general szymanowski and colonel pientka, who were the only general officers who were actively engaged in this battle, seeing that this attack of the light troops upon the russian infantry, thus safely entrenched, was very destructive to us, and would prolong the attack, ordered two battalions of infantry, under colonel jeroma and piwecki, to make an assault, protected by two pieces of cannon and a squadron of the d regiment of lancers. this order was executed with the greatest determination. our artillery having fired two rounds of grape, the two battalions of infantry entered the city at the charge, and regardless of the terrible fire from the windows of the houses, they reached the market-place of the town.[ ] the enemy was in consternation, and the taking of a hundred prisoners by us, showed the disorder into which he had already fallen. if but two other battalions had been sent to support those which had entered the town, the attack would have ended here. but this was neglected, and the latter were remaining in their dangerous situation, while the rest of our forces were uselessly engaged, and received no orders. the bold idea of the brave colonel pientka, of forcing the attack, was no where seconded. the corps of general dembinski remained wholly inactive, although officers were occasionally sent by him to general chlapowski for orders. by this fault the battalions who had entered the city were exposed to the superior forces of the enemy, who, falling upon them from all sides, forced them to quit the city, leaving among their dead the brave colonels jeroma and piwecki, and nearly one half of their whole number.[ ] with the retreat of these brave battalions, all our forces commenced evacuating their position,--we cannot tell for what reason. the enemy did not attack us; on the contrary, he was well satisfied with the cessation of hostilities on our part. at o'clock our corps recommenced its march. these are the details of the battle, or rather the attack, of szawla, which town we quitted, after investing it for nearly five hours, and after having sustained a severe loss in men and officers, a sacrifice which was owing to our most defective and ill-judged arrangements. on this same day, we were again unfortunate, in the loss of all our baggage and several wagons of ammunition, which were sent forward by a road on our right, and fell into the hands of the light circassian cavalry of the enemy. this battle discovered an extreme of negligence in our commander in chief. with the knowledge that the enemy was pursuing us in the rear, and on each side, we remained uselessly encamped during the night of the th, which we ought to have employed in the attack. the true course should have been to have set fire to the place, which would have required only the agency of a few bold men. this town, indeed, deserved no better fate; for it was inhabited almost exclusively by hostile jews. when the general welfare is at risk, there should be no hesitation in sacrificing the convenience of individuals. if we compare the consequences of having burnt this town, and of having attacked it, we shall see that, by the former course, we should have compelled the jews to fly with their effects, and the russian garrison to surrender, without any effusion of blood, while, by attacking it, we lost nearly one thousand men, without any advantage whatever. in regard to the attack, the surrounding of the town was a great fault; for neither the fire of the artillery nor of the light troops could be effective, as the russian artillery was in a dominant position, and was concealed within the city, as their infantry was behind their entrenchments. the skirmishers, in approaching the city, fell, without having harmed the enemy. the plan of colonel pientka, of masking the attack on one side, and forcing the attack upon the other, at a single point, was well conceived, but failed, as we have seen, by the want of support. at about ten o'clock the flanking parties of the russian cavalry began to show themselves on each side of us, upon the road to wilkomierz, and on that of cytowiany. our corps was already on the march for kurszany. the st regiment of lancers and the light artillery were designated as a rear-guard. this rear-guard, taking advantage of a small defile, which presented a favorable position, took post there, and sustained themselves for some hours against an attack from the russian advanced guard; thus protecting the march of our main body, which was executed with the greatest order. the lancers and light artillery then evacuated their position, by a retreat at full speed, which, by taking advantage of the windings of the road, and the vicinity of the forests, they were able to effect with inconsiderable loss. on the evening of the same day, we arrived at kurszany. on the next day we remained some hours in that place, to hold a council of war. general chlapowski proposed to divide our forces into three corps, each to act independently. this arrangement was carried into effect, and our forces were thus distributed. the st corps, under general chlapowski, with which general gielgud remained, consisted of five battalions of infantry, amounting to , men; four squadrons of the st regiment of lancers, and two squadrons of kaliszian cavalry; in all, horse, and an artillery consisting of pieces of cannon. this corps received the destination, to march for rosseyny, leaving the enemy on the right, and from thence directly for kowno, and, by this unsuspected march, to surprise the last important position. by that means, the communication between us and poland would be re-opened; and to protect this communication was to be the principal employment of that corps. the d corps, under the command of generals rohland and szymanowski, was composed of eight battalions of infantry, amounting to about , men; all the cavalry which was recently formed in lithuania, consisting of nearly , horse; and an artillery, commanded by the brave colonel pientka, consisting of pieces of cannon. this corps was directed to march upon polonga, a port on the baltic. it had been rumored that two french vessels with arms, funds, and ammunition, together with a small body of volunteers, were cruising near that port. after they should have received these expected supplies, the corps was directed to march towards the dwina, and, by following along the banks of that river, to observe and interrupt the communications between the forces of the enemy in lithuania, and the province of courland. the d corps, under general dembinski, was composed of three battalions of infantry of the th regiment, recently formed, consisting of about , men; two squadrons of the lancers of poznan, two squadrons of the lancers of plock, and one squadron of the d regiment of hulans, in all, about cavalry; and seven pieces of artillery. this corps received orders to march for the environs of szawla, traversing the forests, and leaving the enemy on the right; from thence to take a direction to wilkomierz, and thence to the environs of wilno, and to attack that city, if circumstances might allow of it; and then to manoeuvre in the department of minsk, and in the forests of bialystok, acting there in support of the insurrection, and collecting the forces of the insurgents. an important object of this corps was to support a communication with the corps of general chlapowski. this plan, the reader will observe, was, in many of its points, the same with that suggested by colonel valentin. a proper reflection upon all these arrangements would convince any one that much more loss than advantage was to be anticipated from them. this subdivision of the force was, in fact, a visionary scheme. many officers openly declared their opinions to this effect, and urged that in our critical situation, almost surrounded as we were by a hostile force, so superior to our own, we ought not to form any new projects, but, profiting by the concentration of our forces, to redouble the rapidity of our march, and, taking advantage of the forests and covered roads, to reach poland as soon as possible. this would, indeed, be attended with difficulties; but it would still be much easier of execution, and much more proper to be attempted, than the plan which we have detailed. such views, however, were not regarded. the project was highly colored, and the most brilliant successes were promised to follow it. the separation of the corps was accordingly ordered, and our fate was sealed. footnotes: [footnote : with this company was the countess plater, and her aid-de-camp m'lle rasynowiecz.] [footnote : the jewish inhabitants of the city even fired upon our soldiers. many of them were taken with pistols in their hands, and afterwards executed.] [footnote : in this affair we ought to make particular mention of the estimable laga, a priest, who was at the head of the squadron in this attack, having the cross in one hand and the sabre in the other.] chapter xxiv. the three subdivisions of the lithuanian corps take their respective destinations.--details of the operations of that of general rohland.--he meets alone the attack of the whole russian force.--battle of powenduny and worna.--general rohland, on his way to polonga, learns that general chlapowski had marched towards the prussian frontier.--he presses his march to overtake and form a junction with him.--the greater part of the corps of gielgud and chlapowski were found to have passed the frontier, when that of rohland came in sight.--indignation of the soldiery.--death of general gielgud.--general rohland, joined by a portion of the corps of gielgud which had not yet passed the frontier, continues his march to nowe-miasto.--he declines a proposition from general kreutz, to surrender.--successful skirmish with the enemy's cavalry.--general rohland takes a position at nowe-miasto, and awaits the enemy.--the russian forces, however, do not continue their pursuit, but go into camp.--propositions to pass the frontier are sent to general rohland by the prussian authorities.--they are submitted to the corps, and accepted. on the th of july, at about , a.m., each of the three subdivisions of the corps took the road designated for it. from this moment, commences a new epoch in our operations in lithuania, and we shall give a separate detail of the proceedings of each of these corps, commencing with that of general rohland, which was in the line of the enemy's pursuit, and was followed by his whole force. this corps, quitting kurszany, took the road for telze. on the night of the th, it arrived at powenduny and the lake of worna. upon the road, it was joined by colonel koss, who had been sent, as we have said, with his detachment, from keydany, to construct a bridge over the niemen, and who had extricated himself from the exposed situation in which this attempt had placed him. as the position was advantageous, and as our soldiers had need of repose after their fatiguing march, we remained there the whole night. on the next day, at sunrise, our camp was alarmed by the approach of the circassian cavalry of the enemy. our generals decided to wait the enemy's attack in their eligible position, and that day was one of most brilliant success. we will present to the reader full details of the events of that day, for they were of an extremely interesting character. the manoeuvres of all our forces were admirable; but those of the cavalry were indeed extraordinary. the reader will be astonished to find how much was done by a cavalry, fatigued, their accoutrements in disorder, and almost without ammunition, against a cavalry like that of the enemy, well mounted, with fresh horses, and in every respect in perfect order. combat of powenduny and worna. the battle commenced at sunrise, as we have already mentioned, with an attack from two squadrons of circassian cavalry. those squadrons turned our outer guard, and came in contact with our tirailleurs, who received them with a warm and unexpected fire. these tirailleurs were concealed in the forest and brush-wood. the circassians halted, and commenced a fire of carbines in return. our fire could not but be attended with great loss to the enemy, and they were forced to retire. in this retreat, our own cavalry, which was at powenduny, and which had debouched by a covered road, and taken position, entirely surrounded these two squadrons, and, attacking them on all sides, causing a severe loss and taking forty prisoners. an hour after, the russians renewed the attack. strong columns of infantry and cavalry passed through a little village which is on the road from kurszany to powenduny. the russian artillery took positions upon the declivity of the heights adjoining that village, and commenced a fire upon our cavalry. at the same time, several columns of the russian infantry threw themselves into the brush-wood on the right of our position, while a strong detachment, composed of infantry, artillery, and cavalry, was pushed forward upon our right wing, with the design to turn our flank, and, by surrounding us, to cut off our communications with worna. this detachment, after losing several hours in attempting to act upon us, under the obstacles which were presented by the marshy nature of the ground, returned without having effected any thing. our generals, seeing the superior force of the enemy, ordered our cavalry to retire, and to place themselves in the rear of our artillery, which occupied heights commanding the whole vicinity, and arrested by an incessant fire, for more than four hours, the advance of the enemy. after our cavalry had retired, the tirailleurs began to evacuate the wood, and concentrating themselves upon the road to powenduny, retired also, after having destroyed the bridge which crosses a small marshy stream, intersecting the road, and burnt a faubourg which adjoins powenduny, and was near this bridge. such was the state of things when, at about ten o'clock, a flag was announced from the russian commander. it was brought by an aid-de-camp of general delinghausen. the proposition borne by this flag was, that we should surrender, on the ground that we were engaged with the whole of the russian force, amounting to nearly , men, and that that force had already occupied the road to worna, the only communication which remained to us. this proposition was followed by the usual considerations,--the wish to prevent the needless effusion of blood, &c. it was declined, and the aid-de-camp returned to the russian head-quarters, but in a short time appeared again with a renewal of the proposition. general szymanowski, who received the aid-de-camp, persisted in his refusal, adding, that 'he knew the duties of a soldier--duties which were doubly obligatory upon one who is fighting in the cause of liberty, and in the defence of the country of his ancestors.' after the departure of the aid-de-camp, the order was given to the artillery and infantry to re-commence their fire. at the same time, arrangements were made for the continuation of our march to worna. at about mid-day, our columns of infantry, and a part of the cavalry and artillery, quitted their position, and took up the march for worna. after a short time, there remained but one battalion of infantry, and three squadrons of cavalry. the cavalry was employed to mask the withdrawing of the remaining artillery. after our corps had, by a march, arranged in the manner we have described, reached a point sufficiently distant from our first position, the battalion of light infantry which remained in that position was ordered to withdraw as far as certain mills, keeping up a retreating fire. after passing those mills, the tirailleurs received orders to run at full speed to rejoin the corps, and to occupy the adjoining forests, while the cavalry were ordered to take post at the mills, to cover this movement, and afterwards to retire slowly, pass a small village which was on the road, and on the opposite side of that village to await the approach of the enemy. this manoeuvre was well executed by both the infantry and cavalry, the latter placing themselves on rather an open space behind the village, to await the enemy. after some time, six squadrons of the light russian cavalry, consisting of hussars and circassians, passed through the village, and seeing the small number of our cavalry, gave the hurrah, and threw themselves upon them. our cavalry, expecting this attack, received orders to quit their position with promptness, in order to lead the russian cavalry upon the fire of our infantry, who were concealed in the woods. the russian cavalry, presuming that this was a disorderly retreat, followed with impetuosity, while our cavalry threw themselves on one side, to pass a ford which had been designated for that object, and thus left the enemy exposed in a mass, to the fire of our tirailleurs. the manoeuvre cost the russians two hundred men, by the acknowledgment of officers who were made prisoners. after having caused this severe loss to the enemy, our infantry and cavalry retired slowly, to occupy their third position, and the enemy did not follow. a short time after we quitted our second position, the russian cavalry showed themselves again. general szymanowski remained, with two companies of the th regiment of the line, to defend the passage of the third village against the enemy, and to give time to our cavalry to take a third position. this general, for nearly an hour, resisted the attack of a strong force of cavalry, but commenced evacuating the position on the approach of considerable bodies of the russian infantry, withdrawing through the forests. the russian cavalry, seeing that the village was abandoned by our infantry, began to debouch through it. it was an act of the greatest imprudence in the russian cavalry, unsupported by either infantry or artillery, to advance thus upon a plain surrounded by forests, in which they might have supposed infantry, and even cavalry, to be concealed. two squadrons of our cavalry commenced a fire in order to harass them, and draw them on to the middle of the plain. afterwards, those two squadrons wheeling about, laid open the russian cavalry to the fire of our artillery, which was posted on a little elevation and concealed by brush-wood. this fire of our artillery was effective. the enemy's cavalry began to waver. general szymanowski observing this, ordered an immediate attack by our whole cavalry, consisting of twelve squadrons. this attack was made with great impetuosity. sixteen hussars, with two officers, were taken prisoners, and forty or fifty were left, killed or wounded, on the field. after this, the corps recommenced its march to worna, leaving two battalions of the th regiment of infantry, as a rear-guard, in the forests which border on that road. the successes which we had thus obtained in our three first positions were over the advanced guard of the enemy; but in the fourth position, arranged by the brave and skilful colonel koss, and in which our successes were even greater, we had to encounter the whole body of the russian forces in lithuania, which, according to some of our prisoners, were to be estimated at , , and by others at , men, with pieces of artillery, under the command of the several russian generals, kreutz, tolstoy, szyrman, delinghausen, and saken. the town of worna is surrounded by two large lakes, in such a manner that the only communication with that town to the west, is by a neck of land, separating the extremities of those two lakes. the town is situated upon an elevated ground, which overlooks the whole vicinity. on our left wing was a forest, that reached one of the lakes. this forest was occupied by two battalions of infantry. our right wing leaned upon the other lake. all our artillery remained in the centre, and occupied the heights near worna. when our arrangements were completed, we heard the fire of the two battalions composing our rear-guard, who were engaged, while withdrawing, with the russian infantry. strong columns of the enemy's infantry, which were following these battalions began to debouch from the forest, and to deploy upon the plains before worna. those columns were followed by the enemy's artillery, pieces of which took post on the side of the road, and immediately opened a fire upon our centre. at the same time, a warm fire of skirmishers was commenced on each side. our artillery, which was very advantageously placed, without replying to that of the enemy, opened a fire upon the columns of the enemy's infantry. before night, the whole russian forces had deployed upon the plain, and a powerful attack on their side was expected; but instead of this we were astonished to find that their fire began to slacken, perhaps owing to a heavy rain, which had just began to fall. our commander with the view to profit by this rain and the approach of darkness, after an interval of not more than ten minutes, ordered the two battalions which remained in the forests on our left, to make a sudden charge with the bayonet upon the right wing of the enemy. these battalions, under the command of the brave colonel michalowski, performed prodigies of valor in this charge, and bore down all before them. colonel koss at the same time taking the command of the cavalry, and addressing a few exciting words to them, led them upon the centre of the enemy at the charge. the consternation of the russians was extreme. a great part of their cavalry was found dismounted, for they had not the least expectation of an attack; their artillery fled, and abandoned their cannon; the utmost disorder followed, and a vast number of the enemy fell upon the field. according to the testimony of prisoners, the consternation was at such a height that we might have put their whole corps to rout. our forces, however, could not follow up these advantages; for the obscurity of the night and our own weakness made it impossible. we were content with having reduced the strength of the enemy by the great losses we had occasioned; and we continued our route towards the seaport of polonga, agreeably to our orders, where we were looking for reinforcements, and where our generals believed that the corps of general chlapowski would join, and act with us upon some new plan. on the morning of the th we arrived at retow. the battle of powenduny and worna, in which we had beaten the russians in four positions, and which cost the enemy more than a thousand men, including prisoners and wounded, renewed our hopes. we were expecting, as we have said, new accessions of strength at polonga; and we were not without hope that our other corps under dembinski and chlapowski, who could not have been far distant, finding that we had been thus engaged and so successfully, with the whole force of the enemy, would change their plan of operations, and attack him in his rear or his flank. to this end, in fact, on the very morning of that battle, after our first successes, we sent two officers in the direction of dembinski and chlapowski, to apprize them of the circumstances in which we were placed, and especially to inform them of the important fact that the whole force of the enemy were before us. with these hopes awakened in our minds, our disappointment may be imagined on learning, at retow, that the corps of general chlapowski had passed through that place on the day before, in a rapid march towards the prussian frontier. during the battle of powenduny, therefore, the corps of general chlapowski was at the distance of only _four miles_ from us. he heard our fire during the whole day, but instead of marching to our support, which, as we afterwards learnt, his officers and even his soldiers loudly called upon him to do, he declined doing it, answering their appeals in the following terms:--"what do you ask of me, gentlemen? i can assure you that the corps of general rohland, on whom the whole force of the enemy has fallen, is destroyed. the baggage of his officers have passed through retow.[ ] all is lost, and, surrounded as we are on all sides by the enemy, it only remains for us to seek at once the frontiers of prussia, and to throw ourselves upon the protection of that power." generals rohland and szymanowski, on receiving the unwelcome intelligence of the course which general chlapowski had adopted, concluded to change their plan of operations, and instead of going to polonga, to follow the march of general chlapowski, to endeavor to join him as soon as possible, and by exhibiting to him the unimpaired strength of our corps, which he had believed to be annihilated, to induce him to abandon the project of crossing the prussian frontier, and to make some farther attempts in junction with us. with this view, after resting a few hours at retow, we left, by a forced march, for gorzdy, a small town near the prussian frontier, at which we hoped to overtake the corps of general chlapowski, and at which we arrived on the next day ( th,) at noon. but it was already too late. the greater part of the corps of chlapowski and gielgud had passed the frontier at the village of czarna, about a half league from the former place, and an inconsiderable part only of the corps, which had not yet passed over, could unite with us. the other part were already advanced a considerable distance within the prussian territory, and having been disarmed, were placed under a guard of prussian sentinels. such was the end of the corps of generals chlapowski and gielgud, composed of our best troops, and which had performed such feats of valor in so many battles. those brave soldiers were led, against their will, into the territory of a foreign nation, to seek a protection of which they themselves had not even dreamed. this step, which every historian of our revolution will record with horror, when it was seen how totally without justification it was, awakened the disgust and indignation of all. the part of the corps of general chlapowski which was already in the prussian territory, when they saw the corps of general rohland, which they had been made to believe was destroyed, continuing its march in an entire state, and even with nearly russian prisoners in its train, and hearing too the animating shouts which naturally burst from their comrades, as they came in view of them, and who called on them to rejoin them, fell into a state of the utmost exasperation. a great number rushed forward, and, breaking through the prussian guard, unarmed as they were, reached our side of the frontier. the brave commander of the light artillery, who was already on the prussian territory with his battery, profiting by the circumstance that his horses were not yet unharnessed, returned, and joined our corps, with five pieces of cannon. both officers and soldiers surrounded general gielgud, and loudly demanded some explanation of this state of things. that general betrayed the utmost confusion, and seemed wholly at a loss to satisfy these demands; his manner, indeed, was such as to encourage the suspicions of treason, which his previous conduct had but too well justified. at this moment, one of his officers, in a frenzy of patriotic indignation, advanced towards him, drew a pistol from his side, and exclaiming, 'this is the reward of a traitor,' shot him through the heart. after this sad event, general chlapowski was sought after, and the same fate would have probably awaited him, had he not succeeded in concealing himself. a scene of great confusion then took place throughout the corps. general rohland and the other officers exerted themselves to tranquillize the soldiers, reminding them that our situation was critical, and that the russians were pressing upon us. these appeals had the effect of restoring quiet; and at about o'clock the corps of general rohland, joined by a part of that of chlapowski, took up the march in the direction of yurburg, in order to pass the niemen there, and attempt to reach poland. at night, we arrived at wierzbna. after having marched four miles from the spot where the prussian frontier was passed by general chlapowski, we were met by an aid-de-camp of general kreutz, sent with a flag of truce, and bearing a letter to general rohland, which was read aloud, containing propositions to surrender, and setting forth the circumstances under which we were placed. in declining the proposition, general rohland, among other expressions, used the following: 'the strength of your forces is well known to us; we have seen them at powenduny and worna. if providence protected us there, it will still protect us;' and turning towards the officers of his suite, he added, 'gentlemen, look on my grey hairs! they have become blanched in a service of thirty years under the polish eagles, and during that whole period i have endeavored to keep the path of honor and duty. permit me in my old age to continue in that path.' the answer having been communicated to the corps, the cry of 'long life to rohland,' burst forth on every side. the aid-de-camp departed, and we continued our route. having passed the night at wierzbna, we arrived on the noon of the next day (the th,) at nowe-miasto, at which place we put to flight a squadron of russian cavalry posted there. before reaching that town, and at the distance of about a half league from it, our cavalry had a small skirmish with four squadrons of the russian light cavalry. this cavalry fell upon a small detachment of our sappers, which had been detailed for the object of destroying a bridge upon a branch of the main road, at the distance of about a mile from it. the sappers, in withdrawing, kept up a fire, and thus drew the enemy on, till our cavalry falling upon them, dispersed them, causing a considerable loss, and taking several prisoners.[ ] on arriving at nowe-miasto, our commander sent a reconnoitering party in the direction of yurburg, in order to ascertain if any of the enemy's forces were there, and considering the strong position of nowe-miasto, he decided to remain there, and to await the result of this reconnoissance. our forces were placed in order of battle, to await the enemy, in case he should choose to make an attack. remaining for two hours in this position, we were astonished that the enemy did not show himself; and a platoon of cavalry, sent in the direction of the enemy to observe him, returned with the intelligence that he was _encamped_ at the distance of two miles from us. four hours had thus passed, when the arrival of a prussian officer upon the frontier was announced, who requested an interview with our general. general rohland, accompanied with a party of officers, went to receive him. the prussian officer was an aid-de-camp of the commandant general of the forces on this part of the frontier, (general kraft, we believe). the officer, after some complimentary language, presented a letter from his commander, which was filled with expressions of respect and good will, and in which it was proposed that, in consideration of our position, surrounded as we were by a force so much superior to our own, and in a state of destitution in respect to arms and ammunition, we should accept the offer which the prussian government had authorised him to make, in order to save the useless effusion of the blood of so many brave men, and throw ourselves upon the protection of its territory, where we would be convinced of the cordial disposition of that government towards us,--adding, that our sojourn there would be short, and that we should soon be allowed to return to our firesides, as was the case with the russian soldiers who had sought the same protection. we have already mentioned that several detachments of russian soldiers, who had before sought the protection of prussia, had been allowed to return with their arms and ammunition. our generals, on being thus apprised of the liberal intentions of the prussian government, which were confirmed by the personal representations of the officer who brought the letter,--reflecting on the deplorable state of our soldiers, fatigued and weakened by so many forced marches; the greater part of the infantry being without covering to their feet, which were lacerated with wounds; the greater part of the cavalry, almost without horses, (for their animals were so broken down, and chafed by unremitted use, as to be unfit for service;) both artillery and infantry nearly destitute of ammunition, a great quantity of which had been thrown into the river by the orders of generals gielgud and chlapowski, on passing the frontier;--considering also the assurance which had been made that we could return to our country, and hoping therefore to be able to renew their services to that country at some more favorable period,--presented these circumstances to the whole corps, and solicited the opinion of the soldiers upon the question of acceding to the propositions of the prussian government. the soldiers, manifesting their entire confidence in the judgment and the honor of their officers, signified their assent to the acceptance of the propositions, influenced strongly by the assurance of being allowed to return to their country. in consequence of this assent, a protocol was prepared that night, and signed by our generals, and by several prussian officers on the other part, who came over for that object. on the morning of the next day, we passed the frontier and marched into the prussian territory, and by that act the operations of the lithuanian corps were ended. footnotes: [footnote : it might have been the case, that a few wagons with some of the baggage of the corps, were sent in advance in the direction of polonga, merely as a precautionary arrangement.] [footnote : in this affair major the prince giedroyc distinguished himself at the head of his regiment, the th chasseurs, and killed with his own hand the commander of the enemy's cavalry, an officer of the rank of general.] chapter xxv. effect of the news of the lithuanian disasters on the minds of the people.--distrust of the national government.--the russian army resumes the offensive under general paszkewicz.--he decides to pass the vistula.--examination of the merits of this plan.--plan of general skrzynecki to act on the different detached corps of the enemy.--advantages of general chrzanowski over the corps of rudiger.--the russian forces execute the passage of the vistula.--general skrzynecki crosses the vistula at warsaw to operate against the enemy on the left bank.--an inquiry into the conduct of general skrzynecki, and the appointment of a council of war is demanded by the nation.--arrival of the corps of general dembinski at warsaw. while the nation was afflicted by the treasons at warsaw, their hopes had been still kept alive by looking towards lithuania. what, then, can express the disheartening effect produced by the intelligence that the lithuanian corps existed no longer;--that that pillar, so essential to the support of the fabric we had been rearing, had fallen; and that this disaster had been brought on by the gross negligence, if not the treason, of those to whom that all-important expedition had been entrusted. they felt that this was an almost mortal blow. they saw a horrible future opening upon them, prepared by parricidal hands. after such renewed outrages, the people fell into the greatest exasperation. that people, whose confidence had been so basely abused, whose holiest purposes had been so shamelessly sported with, seemed at last to have changed their nature. so often betrayed, they lost confidence in all, and seemed to see in every one a traitor. if, in the frenzy of indignation, which such an experience had justified, they allowed themselves to be carried away by their feelings, and to be guilty of acts of severity, it can scarcely be wondered at. immediately after the arrival of the sad news from lithuania, the nation demanded explanations of the generalissimo. they demanded to know how he could have given the command of so important an expedition to a man like gielgud, one who had never been esteemed by the nation or the army, and who had not even the reputation of a general of talent. how could an expedition which demanded the very highest talents, and the most undoubted patriotism, have been confided to a man like him? with him had been associated general chlapowski, who was the brother-in-law of the grand duke constantine. that circumstance alone, they justly considered, should have been enough to suggest suspicion, and to have at least indicated the expediency of keeping him near the eye of the commander in chief, and subject to his constant observation. such were the complaints of the people, and they went to the heart of the commander in chief, and the president of the national government; for they were conscious, but too late, of their justice.[ ] the russian army, the command of which, on the death of general diebitsch, was taken by general count paszkewicz, and the main body of which remained in a state of inaction at ostrolenka, having no longer any apprehensions from lithuania, could now act with freedom, and the offensive was recommenced under the command of its new chief, who decided to pass the vistula, and to act upon the left bank. i may be allowed to detain the attention of the reader a moment upon this passage of the vistula by paszkewicz, a manoeuvre of which so much boast has been made, and to consider whether it is really to be regarded as a great and bold step, or one of necessity. what was the state of the russian army after the battle of ostrolenka?--a month had passed, and that army had not made a single movement, but was kept there merely to be fed by prussia. was not this inactivity an infallible evidence of weakness? does it not show that, alarmed by the prospects in lithuania, it was in a state of hesitation, not daring to advance into the kingdom, and holding itself in readiness to evacuate it on an occasion of necessity, which indeed seemed near at hand? in this period of hesitation, the new general arrives from the regions of the caucasus. he must do something. the question presents itself to him,--what course is best to be taken? his army, now reinforced by the corps which had been in lithuania, amounted to perhaps near one hundred and fifty thousand men. although this force was considerable, yet to attack the fortifications of praga, which, as is known to the reader, had been augmented, and which the russian army in their primitive and unimpaired strength had never had the temerity to attack, was out of the question. what other course could he take, unless he could submit to continue in this state of inactivity, but to pass the vistula, and under the assistance of prussia, to make his attempts against warsaw on the other side, a step, however, which he never would have dared to have taken without that assistance. this is the natural explanation of that boasted plan, in which we can see nothing but an almost necessary movement, encouraged by a reliance on prussia. in the first days of the month of june the russian army began to approach the vistula, in order to execute the passage. their march was in three principal columns, and was arranged in the following manner:--general witt, commanding the columns of the left wing, took the direction of sochoczyn. the centre, under marshal paszkewicz, left for sonk and luberacz, passing the river wkra at maluszyn. the column of the right, consisting of the imperial guard, under the command of the grand duke michael, marched from makow, by ciechanow and racionz. general pablen commanded the advanced guard. a considerable train of ammunition, with provisions for twenty days, and a park of artillery of reserve, formed the fourth column, and followed the imperial guard. detached posts towards modlin and serock, covered this march on the left. one regiment of dragoons remained at pultusk. this combined force consisted of , men and three hundred pieces of cannon. besides these forces, there were in the kingdom, the corps of general rudiger at kaluszyn, and that of general rott at zamosc. those two corps might now number about , men, and some thirty pieces of cannon. opposed to these forces, we had an army of , men, a hundred and twenty pieces of cannon, not counting the national guard of warsaw, and the garrisons of the two fortresses of modlin and zamosc. the plan of our generalissimo was to throw himself upon the detached corps of the enemy, under rott and rudiger, and afterwards to act upon his main body. for this end an attack was ordered upon the corps of rudiger, which was beaten in the environs of minsk by the corps of general chrzanowski, in successive actions, on the th, th, and th of july. a third part of his corps being destroyed, a thousand prisoners, four pieces of cannon and all his baggage taken, he was forced to retire behind kaluszyn. after these new advantages, the general in chief prepared to act upon the rear of the russian main army, and to attack them while engaged in the passage of the vistula, which he supposed they would attempt either at plock, or between plock and modlin. but as he was afterwards apprized that the russians were to attempt the passage at a much more distant point from warsaw, and beyond his reach while on the right bank, he thought it most expedient to pass the vistula at warsaw, and to operate against the enemy on the other side. the russian army thus passed the vistula without being intercepted, between the th and the th of july. having reached the left bank, the enemy took the direction of lowicz, where, on the th, the head-quarters of general paszkewicz were established, and whither our army marched to meet him. at this important moment, when the operations of the enemy had taken a new face, and seemed, in the eyes of the people, by his near approach to warsaw, to menace the utmost danger--made more threatening in their imaginations by the recent discovery of the conspiracy of jankowski and the news of the misfortunes in lithuania;--at this anxious moment, the nation demanded a council of war, and called on the national government to make an inquisition into the conduct of the general in chief, to demand of him full explanations of his purposes, and a submission of all his plans of operation to the examination of such a council. such a council of war was instituted by the government and directed to be attached to the person of the general, and to be initiated into all his designs, in order to be enabled to tranquillize and re-assure the minds of the nation, which had so naturally become distrustful and suspicious, after the events which had taken place. the council having been organized, and having taken an oath of secrecy, general skrzynecki laid before them all the plans of operation that he had hitherto followed, as well as those which he had in contemplation, and gave a full exposition of the reasons for each. this council then published to the nation an address, announcing their entire confidence in the patriotic intentions of the general in chief, and assuring them that the crisis was by no means as dangerous as they apprehended. by these proceedings the minds of the people were much tranquillized, and this tranquillity was increased by the arrival of the corps of general dembinski from lithuania after its glorious retreat; which arrival not only cheered them by the addition which it brought to our forces, but by the more encouraging accounts than had before been received, which it gave of the state of lithuania, authorizing some hope of a renewal of the insurrection in that province at a more propitious hour. footnotes: [footnote : a few details of the history of the two generals who were the cause of these fatal disasters, may gratify the curiosity of the reader. general gielgud was born in lithuania, at gielgudyszki, (the place at which he crossed the niemen in ). passing over his early life, which presents nothing noticeable, he commenced his military career in , when napoleon entered lithuania. in a moment of patriotic fervor, he formed a small detachment at his own expense, and joined the ranks of the supposed deliverer of poland; and this perhaps was the most praise-worthy act of his life. during the campaign of , , and , he was in no way distinguished either for good or bad conduct. at the end of the russian campaign, in , he was made colonel. as during that year, poland came under the russian government, our army was subjected to a change of organization, and as many officers of high rank, who were in independent circumstances, gave up their commands, gielgud then obtained the rank of general, at about the age of thirty. this rapid advancement, as was natural to a man of weak character, inspired him with an extreme of arrogance and pretension; qualities which were encouraged in his intercourse with the russian generals, with whom he was much associated. it was this arrogance which uniformly lost him the esteem of those under his command. when the revolution broke out, general gielgud was at the town of radom, and his life was in great danger from the suspicions of which he was naturally the object, but he was protected by some of the patriots, on the assurances which he gave of his patriotic dispositions. still, however, the military demanded his removal from his post, and, in fact, for some weeks he was without command. the dictator, chlopicki, whose modes of action were, as the reader knows, too often inexplicable, restored him to his command, persuading himself that he was one of the best of patriots, and that if his exterior was offensive, he was right at heart. in the war,--having first commanded a brigade, and afterwards a division,--while he was attached to the grand army, his conduct was not marked by any very great faults; indeed, in the battle of minsk he performed his part well. it was such occasional exhibitions of good conduct which kept him in some consideration. after having taken command of the corps of lithuania, and when he was removed from the observation of the army, he exhibited himself in his true character. he was giddy with the distinction, and feeling himself the absolute master of his own conduct, he gave himself up to all the suggestions of his vanity. his first act of folly was to surround himself with a numerous suite, (it was in number four times that of the commander in chief,) in which suite those individuals were held in greatest esteem, who were most fertile in resources for amusement. it was to this love of personal gratification that we can attribute those delays which were sacrificing the cause of the country. at gielgudyszki the general gave a _fête_ to his officers; and it is not impossible that it was a motive of mere personal ostentation which induced him to make the passage of the niemen, at that place, by which two days' march were given to the retreating enemy, time was allowed him to concentrate his forces in wilno, and that capital was lost to us! this general was never seen to share the privations, fatigues, and exposure of his subalterns. in his personal deportment he neglected the true means of gaining the confidence and attachment of his troops. on the eve of a battle, in moments of danger and anxiety, it is cheering to the soldier to see the face of his commander, and to hear from him a few words of encouragement. these are apparent trifles, but they are in reality of most serious consequence. they are the secret keys by which every thing can be obtained from the soldier. the personal attachment of the soldier to his commander, is worth more than the finest combinations in strategy and tactics. the commander, who succeeds in gaining the affection of the soldier, inspires him with a new impulse for exertion. to his other motives is added the dread of forfeiting the confidence and esteem of a friend; and perhaps, with the mass of an army, such a motive would yield to no other in efficiency. to the modes of conduct which would have secured this result, general gielgud was an entire stranger. instead of freely approaching the soldier and endeavoring to gain his attachment, he treated him with uniform coldness and reserve. it is on the whole a matter of just surprise, that a man with such glaring faults of character should have been appointed to so responsible a trust. general chlapowski commenced his military career also in . in the russian war he advanced to the rank of officer, and was made aid-de camp of prince poniatowski. while in this situation he advanced to the rank of a staff officer, in which rank he left the army in , and retired to his estates in the grand duchy of pozen, where he married the sister of the princess of lowicz, the wife of the grand duke constantine. the entrance of this general into the revolutionary ranks excited considerable surprise. but as he joined himself to the squadrons of pozen, which were formed of the bravest and most patriotic materials, there was no distrust felt of him. his successes in traversing the department of bialystok, entitled him to the highest praise. it was this fine expedition which gained him the confidence of the lithuanian corps, and after the battle of wilno, they were unanimous in inviting him to take the chief command. the nominal command, as we have related, he declined, but took a post which gave him the superintendence of all the operations. while he was thus in the direction of affairs, the greatest faults, as we have seen, were committed, for which no adequate explanation can be given. we will recapitulate some of them.--they were, . the sending of the sappers to build the bridge over the niemen. . the ill-arranged attack on szawla. . his not succoring general rohland in the combat of powenduny. . the inexplicable secrecy which he kept upon his intention of passing the prussian frontier; having left kurszany for that object, whilst all his officers were given to understand that the separation of the corps at that place was with the view of marching to act in the environs of kowno. these are points upon which this officer has yet to answer at the bar of his country. chlapowski was a more dangerous person even than gielgud, for gielgud was a man of such undisguised arrogance, that he repelled the confidence of others; but chlapowski, with all the faults of gielgud, had an exterior of dissimulation which won insensibly upon those who had not thoroughly studied his character. but none who had observed and known him well, could ever yield him their esteem.] chapter xxvi. operations of general dembinski's corps.--he traverses the country between szawla and the niemen without being observed by the enemy.--attacks and disperses a brigade of russian infantry.--passes the niemen and throws himself into the forest of bialystok.--after leaving that forest, is joined by the corps of general rozycki.--reaches warsaw.--his reception at warsaw.--view of the exposed situation of paszkewicz after his passage of the vistula.--examination of the plan of operations of the polish commander.--morbid state of the public mind at warsaw.--skrzynecki and czartoriski deprived of their trust.--capture of the city.--documents showing the influence exercised by the cabinets in discouraging active operations.--conclusion. the corps of general dembinski had been more fortunate than those of chlapowski and rohland. that general, quitting kurszany on the th of july, returned, in obedience to the orders which we have detailed, by means of the forests, to the environs of szawla, leaving the enemy upon the right, and without being observed by him;--he having advanced with his whole force in the direction of worna, under the belief that our undivided forces were in that position. this corps traversed the country between szawla and rosseyny, and arrived during the night of the th at janow, where they dispersed a squadron of the enemy's cavalry and took fifty prisoners, and passed there the river wiliia without interruption. from thence they left for the environs of kowno, where, not far from rumszyski, on the th, they met a brigade of russian infantry which was on the march from wilno to the frontier of poland. general dembinski attacked this brigade with such impetuosity, that they were thrown into the greatest consternation. two cannons and several prisoners were taken. the great forests, by which the russians were able to effect their escape, alone saved this brigade from entire destruction. having thus opened their road, they took the direction of the town of lida, passing the niemen not far from that place. afterwards they threw themselves into the forests of bialystok, and in these forests the corps was reinforced by a considerable number of lithuanian insurgent cavalry, which had been acting with great advantages over the enemy, by cutting off his transports of ammunition and other modes of harassing him, during the whole of our campaign. this force was under the command of colonel b***. general dembinski quitted the forests in the environs of orla, and leaving the town of bielsk on his right, passed through the town of bocki, near which he surprised and dispersed a regiment of cossacks, and took several prisoners, and among them a number of officers. in the environs of siemiatycze, where the corps arrived on the th of june, they were arrested by the sudden appearance of a large body of troops. general dembinski halted and placed his forces in order of battle, sending his flankers in advance. on the other side the same movement was made. the flanking parties of the opposite forces approached each other, but what was the astonishment of the two corps at seeing the tirailleurs, in place of firing upon each other, rushing into each other's arms, and rending the air with patriotic exclamations. the corps which was thus met by that of general dembinski, was the corps of general rozycki, which had been sent from our grand army to reinforce the corps of general gielgud. the reader will now call to mind the plan of operations proposed by colonel valentin after the battle of wilno; and the arrival of this reinforcement at the very spot which was to have been the point of concentration aggravates the regret that his plans were not adopted. nothing could exceed the satisfaction of the two corps at thus meeting. general rozycki, learning the disastrous circumstances which had occurred, changed his plan of operation, and decided to unite himself with the corps of general dembinski, and to return with it to the grand army. the junction of these two corps had scarcely taken place, when a cloud of dust, in the direction of bielsk, announced the march of another body of troops. a small reconnoissance, sent in that direction, returned with the intelligence that it was the russian corps under golowkin. our generals, considering all circumstances, determined not to engage with them, and continued their march towards poland, passing at night the river bug. they then took the direction of wengrow and kaluszyn, and by that route arrived at warsaw, toward the end of the month of july. the corps of general dembinski, which had traversed more than four hundred miles in about twenty days from its departure from kurszany, in the midst of detachments of the enemy, was received by the nation with the greatest enthusiasm. the president of the senate, prince adam czartoriski, the generalissimo skrzynecki, with all the officers of government, followed by an immense body of citizens, met him at the distance of a half league from the city; and he was greeted with an address expressive of the thanks of the nation for his courageous and persevering exertions. it ended in the following terms:--'dear general, and brethren in arms, you will be a living reproach to those who, forgetting their sacred duties, have, by their misconduct, forced their countrymen to lay down their arms, and seek the protection of another nation.' to commemorate the brave exertions of this corps, and to transmit these events to posterity, the address above referred to was ordered to be enregistered in the volumes of the public laws. a printed copy was also given to each soldier of the corps. at the same time a commission was appointed to inquire into the conduct of generals gielgud and chlapowski. when we consider the manner in which the russian army, after their passage of the vistula, passed the interval between the th of july, (the day of their arrival at lowicz) and the th of august, we shall be at a loss to account for their inaction. if general paszkewicz was in a condition to take warsaw, he could gain nothing by this repose. nay, every moment of delay might increase the difficulties he would have to overcome. why then all this delay? what could have prevented us from reinforcing our ranks, strengthening the fortifications of warsaw, and even sending another corps, however small, into lithuania, to support a new insurrection? such a corps could have easily made its way even in the midst of the russian detached corps remaining on the other side of the vistula, and indeed those corps, so imprudently left there, could have been beaten in detail by our forces. if these circumstances are well considered, the reader will be satisfied that this manoeuvre of passing the vistula, though in appearance so threatening to us, was in reality a most imprudent step on the enemy's part, and exposed him to the most imminent danger. many detailed considerations might be given upon this point, but as they would occupy much space, and would withdraw us too far from the purpose of this narrative, we must leave them to abler pens. the general view, however, which we have taken of the position of the enemy, will be enough to awaken the astonishment of the reader that the event of the contest should have arrived so suddenly and so fatally to us. we are, therefore, led to present some reflections upon what seems to us to have been the true causes of the disastrous issue of the struggle. we may, in the first place, be permitted to remark that the removal of our army from warsaw to lowicz to meet the enemy there, does not appear to have been a fortunate disposition. by it, some twenty days were spent in indecisive manoeuvres against a superior force. if, during that interval, in place of marching to meet the enemy, the army had been concentrated in the environs of warsaw, and employed in constructing fortifications upon the great roads leading to warsaw, from blonie, nadarzyn, piaseczno, and kalwaryia, as a first line of defence, and in strengthening the great fortifications of warsaw:--then, leaving half of our force to defend these fortifications, we might have crossed the vistula with the other half, and acted upon all the detached corps of the enemy on the right bank, and have, besides, intercepted all the reinforcements for the main army of paszkewicz. our communications, also, with the provinces, being thus opened, and their territory freed from the presence of the enemy, we should have again been enabled to avail ourselves of their co-operation. i cannot but think that if such a plan of operation had been adopted, for which, in fact, there was ample time in the interval above named, an altogether different turn would have been given to our affairs. if the objection should be made that the delay which actually occurred could not have been reasonably anticipated, and that paszkewicz might have immediately advanced to the attack of warsaw, still, without entering for the present into more detailed considerations in support of my opinion, it will be enough to answer, that if twenty-four hours merely were to be had, those twenty-four hours should have been employed in fortification rather than manoeuvring, for it was not at lowicz, but under the walls of warsaw, that the enemy were to be fought. as it was at warsaw, then, that the decisive encounter must inevitably have taken place, would it not have been the most judicious course, to have confined our operations on the left bank of the vistula, to the strengthening of the defences of warsaw; to have in fact adopted in regard to the enemy, who had now transferred his strength to the left bank of the vistula, the same course of operations which we had hitherto pursued against him while he was in occupation of the right; in short, to have made of warsaw another praga. our course of operations should in fact have been just reversed, to correspond with the change which the enemy's passage of the vistula had made in our relative positions. while he was on the right bank, the region on the left of the river was open to us, and there were our resources; but now that he was acting with his main army on the left bank, it should have been our aim, by annihilating his detached corps, to have opened to our operations the whole region of the right, which was far more extensive than the other, and which, besides, had the advantage to us of being contiguous to the insurrectionary provinces. in case of an attack on warsaw, which of course could not be an affair of a few days only, that part of our forces operating on the right bank could be withdrawn in ample season to present our whole strength to the enemy in its defence. since i have allowed myself to make the above remarks in regard to the plans of the general in chief, i must also be permitted to add that, at that period of inquietude and distrust, the presence of the commander in chief and of the president of the national government, at warsaw, was of the utmost importance. that presence was continually needed to act on the minds of the people, to preserve union and tranquillity, and to discover and bring to exemplary punishment the traitors who had been plotting the ruin of their country; in short, to encourage the patriotic and to alarm the treacherous. if those two individuals so deservedly beloved and honored by the nation had been present, we doubt whether those melancholy scenes at warsaw, on the th, th, and th of august, when some forty persons who were under conviction of treason, perished by the hands of the people, would ever have taken place. revolting as those scenes were, we must yet consider whether the circumstances of the moment will not afford some palliation for them. deserted by those who had been the objects of their profoundest attachment and confidence, haunted by the recollections of the terrible disasters which had been incurred, and which they could attribute to nothing short of treason,--seeing twenty days again sacrificed, during which the russian corps from lithuania were permitted to pass the vistula, (that of kreutz at plock, and that of rudiger at pulawy,) and join their main army; in fine, seeing this immense russian force approaching the capital, from which perhaps they were expecting a repetition of all the atrocities of suwarow,--remembering the thousands of victims which these traitors had already sacrificed, and reflecting on the thousands whom they had plotted to sacrifice; can it be wondered that, in those moments of despair, that people should have yielded to their impulses of indignation and have chosen rather to sacrifice at once those convicted traitors, than permit them to live, and perhaps be the instruments of the vengeance of the conqueror. abandoned thus by those who should have been near to tranquillize them, the people took that justice into their own hands which the government had neglected to execute, and with their suspicions operated upon by this accumulation of disasters, they went to the degree of demanding the removal from their posts of prince czartoriski and the general in chief. such are, i think, the true explanations of those acts, so serious in their consequences, and which have created so much surprise. the removal of skrzynecki from the chief command was certainly one of the most deplorable results of this disordered state of the minds of the people;--for who could so well meet the exigencies of the time as he, familiar with every detail, engaged in the midst of events, and possessing the entire confidence of the army? it was in this period of distrust and suspicion that the russian army, which seemed to have been waiting only for such a moment, received the intelligence from some traitors, yet undiscovered, within the walls of warsaw, that the time had arrived for their attack. it was undoubtedly directed by such intelligence, that they made their attack on warsaw, at the moment when the greater part of our army had been sent by its new commander, prondzynski, to act on the right bank of the vistula against the corps of golowkin, which was menacing praga. the city thus defended by the national guard and a small part of the army alone, and distracted by the divisions which russian intrigues had fomented, fell, after a bloody defence,[ ] and the fate of poland was decided. we have stated our belief that the fatal events which hastened the catastrophe might have been prevented by the mere presence, at the capital, of the heads of the army and the national government, at those trying moments which brought on that disordered state of the public mind. of this error we cannot readily acquit them, upright and patriotic as we know their intentions to have been. but upon the other point--that mysterious inaction of our forces, for so considerable a period, there is an important light thrown, in the following extracts from the correspondence of the prince czartoriski with the french minister of the exterior, read in the chamber of deputies, on the th of september, by the venerable general lafayette, and in the extracts from his remarks, and those of general lamarque, made on that occasion, and which have probably before met the eye of the reader. extract from the letter of prince czartoriski. 'but we relied upon the magnanimity and the wisdom of the cabinets; trusting to them, we have not availed ourselves of all the resources which were at our command, both exterior and interior. to secure the approbation of the cabinets, to deserve their confidence, and to obtain their support, we have never departed from the strictest moderation; by which moderation, indeed, we have paralyzed many of the efforts which might have saved us in those latter days. but for the promises of the cabinets, _we should have been able to strike a blow, which perhaps would have been decisive_. we thought that it was necessary to temporize, to leave nothing to chance--and we have at last seen the certainty, at the present moment, that there is nothing but chance that can save us.' _general lafayette_: 'if it be said that the promises here referred to might have been only an affair of the gazettes,--i answer, that i have demanded explanations of the polish legation, and here is the reply which i have obtained. '"in answer to the letter which we have received from you, general, we hasten to assure you-- '" . that it was the minister of foreign affairs who engaged us on the th of july, to send a messenger to warsaw, whose travelling expenses were advanced by the minister: that the object of this messenger was, as his excellency the count sebastiani told us, to induce our government to wait two months longer, for that was the time necessary for the negociations. '" . that the circular of our minister of foreign affairs, dated the th of august, signed by the minister ad interim, audne horodyski, and also another circular of the th of the same month, signed by the new minister of foreign affairs, theodore morawski, came to our hands by the post of the th current; that they are the same circulars which we at first officially communicated to the count sebastiani, on the th of september, and which we immediately after addressed to the journals, where they appeared on the th and th, and that those two circulars in fact explain the effect which the mission of the above envoy produced at warsaw. '"le gen. kniazewiecz--l: plater."' _paris, the th november, _. _gen. lamarque_: 'poland! can it be true that this heroic nation, who offered her bosom to the lance of the tartars only to serve as a buckler for us, is to fall because she has followed the counsels which france and england have given her! thus then is to be explained the inaction of her army at the moment when it ought to have taken a decisive step. thus is to be explained the irresolution of the generalissimo, who from the first moment had showed so much audacity and skill. we may now know why he did not profit by the passage of the vistula, which divided the army of the enemy, to give him battle either on one bank or the other. the minister rejects with indignation this imputation of complicity. he declares formally that he had made no promise, that he had given no hope, that he had fixed no date.--honorable poles, whom i have seen this morning, affirm the contrary. our colleague, m. lafayette, will give you details, almost official, on this subject.' session of the th september. _gen. lafayette_: 'i will ask this, without the least expectation of receiving a reply, but only to render a just homage to the conduct of the poles, and of their government,--i will ask, if it is true that the poles were urged by the french government, by the english ministers, and by the french ambassador at london, to use moderation, and not to risk a battle, because the measures which those powers were to take in behalf of poland would not be delayed but for two months, and that in two months poland would enter into the great family of nations.--those two months have expired; and i state this here to render justice to the conduct of the polish government, the polish army, and its chief, who may have thought that on his giving a general battle, to prevent the passage of the vistula, they could thwart the good intentions of the french and english government in this respect. i think that this will be considered a fair procedure towards messieurs the ministers, to whom the questions shall be addressed on monday, to apprize them that this is one of those which will be then submitted to them.' * * * * * these documents will be for the present age and for posterity an explanation of the true causes of the ruin of poland. she fell not by the enormous forces of her enemy, but by his perfidious intrigues. we cannot accuse france or england, and indeed no pole does accuse them; for, although we may have some enemies in those countries, yet we cannot conceive of the existence of any causes of hostility towards us, by which those nations can be actuated.[ ] they were blinded by the promises of russia,--by the solemn assurances[ ] which she gave, that she would soon arrange every thing in the most favorable manner for poland. in this web of intrigue were those cabinets entangled, who would else have followed the common dictates of humanity in succoring poland. while she was thus deceiving the cabinets, russia was doing her utmost to sow distrust and disunion among our people. it was her intrigues, through the instrumentality of the traitors whom she had gained for her accomplices, that caused the estrangement of the nation from skrzynecki, who, having a true polish heart, had repelled all her vile attempts to shake his integrity, and who, by his talent and energy, had so often defeated and might still defeat the enormous masses which she had sent against us. those intrigues succeeded, and russia gained her end in overwhelming poland with misery; not reflecting that by so doing she was bringing misfortunes upon her own head. russia, by a liberal concession to poland of her national rights, could have been truly great. not to speak of the influence of the polish institutions upon the happiness of her own people; her true stability and strength could in no way be so well secured as by the independent existence of poland. they who have labored for our destruction were not then true russians; they were the enemies of their country and of humanity;--heartless calculators, acting with a single view to their own personal aggrandizement;--men, in fact, who have no country but self. equally the enemies of the monarch and of the people, they make the one a tyrant, and sport with the misery of the other. footnotes: [footnote : as the author was attached to the lithuanian corps, and as he was actually in a prussian prison at the time of the capture of warsaw, he cannot undertake to give any details upon so important an event with the limited information at present at his command.] [footnote : appendix no. iii, iv.] [footnote : appendix no. iv.] appendix. no. i. historical view of lithuania. if, notwithstanding the many good works recently published upon poland, the history of that country is still but imperfectly known to the rest of the world; it may be said that the history of lithuania is almost absolutely unknown to the people of the west. it is generally thought that it has always composed an integral part of the russian empire, and that it was only occasionally that it has held relations with ancient poland;--a false impression, and one which the public journals have but too frequently assisted in propagating. the truth is, that for five hundred years, lithuania has voluntarily associated herself with the destinies of ancient poland, and it is only with shame and reluctance that she has borne the russian yoke. but that which is of great importance at present to consider, is, the ancient sympathy which has constantly united the two people. there is a common spirit of nationality, which, notwithstanding the studiously contrived disintegration of their territory, has always animated the lithuanians and the poles;--a most important fact, for it is on this fraternity of feeling and community of opinion between the ancient polish provinces, that the salvation of modern poland essentially depends. we will endeavor, by presenting to the reader the following extracts from the work of leonard chodzko, to throw some light upon the political history of this interesting portion of the slavian race. 'for a long time a distinct power, and governed by its grand dukes, united for the first time with poland in the year , and making, in , an integral part of the republic of poland, lithuania, from that epoch, to that of , formed, in the political state, the third province of poland; being composed of the palatinates of wilno, of troki, the duchies of starostia, and samogitia, of nowogrodek, of brzsclitewski, of minsk, of polock, of witepsk, mscislaw and of smolensk. the grand duchy was bounded on the north by courland, semigallia, polish livonia, and the province of great nowogorod; on the east by moscovy; on the south by the ukraine, volhynia, and the country of chelme; on the west, by the baltic sea, the duchy of prussia, and the palatinates of podlasia and lublin. its arms were a cavalier at full speed, with a sabre raised over his head. this cavalier of lithuania, joined with the white eagle of poland, figured inseparably upon the arms of the republic, upon the national standards, the public edifices and the coins, up to the moment when foreign force and domestic treason struck a liberticide blow at that union which ages has consecrated. in , for a moment, those fraternal arms were united; but separated again, they once more floated upon every banner after the memorable date of the th of november. according to ancient traditions, towards the year , there landed on the coast of samogitia, between memel, polonga, and libau, a colony of italians who introduced into that country a certain degree of civilization, and from thence came that multitude of latin words which are to be remarked in the lithuanian language. from these italian families, arose several sovereign dynasties, which governed lithuania and samogitia. of this origin were, without doubt, the gerules or herules, who formerly governed lithuania. this people is the same which in the fifth century invaded italy, with odacre, and returning on their steps, spread themselves upon the shores of the baltic, which embrace, at the present day, oriental prussia, lithuania, samogitia, and courland. 'the lithuanians, though subjugated first by the russians, did not fail to make their strength soon felt by their invaders. in the th century, when the tartars ravaged on one side the russian states, the lithuanians on the other side took possession of grodno, brzesc, and drohyczyn, and did not stop till they reached the banks of the prypec and the town of mozyr. in the north their victorious arms were pushed as far as the dwina, and the city of polock. in the year , the russians, under mscislaw-romanowicz, declared war upon lithuania, but they were beaten near the river tasiolda, and the lithuanians augmented their possessions by the occupation of pinsk and turow. ringold was the first who took the title of grand duke of lithuania, in . mindowe or mendog, having promised the pope to embrace the christian religion, was crowned king of lithuania in , at nowogrodek; but this did not continue long, for mindowe, finding himself deceived, returned to paganism, and died in . from to , the dukes latuwer and witènes reigned over this country; but the greatest power of lithuania dates from the fourteenth century, when gédymin seized the reins of government. impatient to crush the russian power, which had distressed lithuania, this prince defeated the enemy in , upon the river pirna, made himself master of volhynia, of küovie, of sewerie, of czerniechovia, and extended his boundaries as far as putiwel upon the diésna. in , when gédymin perished upon the field of battle by the hands of the teutonic knights, the tartaro-russian power commenced ravaging polodia, but olgerd, successor of gédymin, came to the succor of his nephews, koryatowicz, who were in possession of that province, defeated the czars of the tartars in a pitched battle, and extended the territory of lithuania as far as the banks of the don and the black sea. to form an idea of the extent of the lithuanian provinces, it is sufficient to point out here the partition between the sons of gédymin: monwid possessed kiernow and slonim; narymond--pinsk, mozyr, and a part of volhynia: olgerd--krewo, the ancient capital of the duchy, and all the country as far as the berezina; kieystat--samogitia, troki, and podlachia: koryat--nowogrodek and wolkowysk: lubar--wlodgimierz, with the rest of volhynia: jawnat--wilno, osmiana, wilkomierz, braslaw. the last succeeded first to his father, but after his death it was olgerd who took the reins of government. 'olgerd was the most powerful of the sovereigns of lithuania. the republic of pskow, in , and that of nowogorod, in , acknowledged him for their master. in , the tartars of pérékop (krimea,) became his vassals. on the east, embracing the cause of the duke of twer, he came three times, in , , , to break his lance against the ramparts of the city of moscow; of that city where at a later day the great generals of poland and of lithuania, and at last, in , the gallo-polono-lithuanian lances were crossed in front of the superb kremlin! kiegstut powerfully seconded his brother in his conquests. it was under such auspices that olgerd, descending to the tomb, left his brilliant inheritance to jagellon, one of his thirteen sons. jagellon, who ascended the grand-ducal throne in , ceded it to his cousin witold, in , when he went to place upon his head the crown of the piasts, to unite his hand to that of hedwige, and to cement forever the glorious junction of lithuania and poland. in , he gave the government of the duchy of sévérie-nowogorodien and the republic of nowogorod-the-great to his two brothers; while on the other side, his cousin witold, being attacked in his new conquests by the tartars, beat them, chased a part of them beyond the don, and transported those who fell into his hands into the different countries of lithuania, where, instead of reducing them to slavery, he gave them possessions, with the liberty of freely exercising their religious rights. it was the descendants of those tartars who showed themselves such worthy children of their adopted country, at the epoch of the war of independence, in , and in the campaign of . in this manner witold acquired the possession, not only of the russian territories, delivered from the yoke of the tartars by his grandfather and his uncle, but those which were held by the other small trans-borysthenian czars. turning then his victorious army to the north, he forced the northern republics, whose fidelity he suspected, to humble themselves before him, and recognize his unqualified supremacy. in fine, poland and lithuania arrived, at that epoch, to such a degree of power, that the dukes of mazovia and russia, the czars of moscow, basile, that of twer borys, that of riezan, olegh, the little czars of pérékop and volga, the teutonic masters, the prussians and livonians, in fine, the emperor of germany, sigismond himself, accompanied by his wife, and several princes, erik, king of denmark and sweden, as well as the ambassadors of the emperor of the east, paleogogus, presented themselves to wladislas-jagellon at luck, in volhynia, and held there a general congress in , in which they deliberated upon the war against the ottomans; and at which the emperor of germany attempted in vain, by means of intrigues, to throw some seeds of dissension between jagellon and witold. witold died in . kasimir le jagellon, successor of wladislay, was reigning still with eclat; when the moment approached, at which from one side the ottomans began to take possession of the tauride, while a new muscovite power, subjugating the russians from the north and east, were soon to contract the frontiers of lithuania. 'all this, however, could have no effect upon the union of the two nations, which daily acquired new strength; for, subsequently to the first union of , a diet, in , held in the bourg of horoldo, having declared the lithuanians to be on an equal footing with the poles in regard to taxes and laws, many lithuanian families allied themselves with polish families; in fine, the arms of the two nations were united. it was then determined that the lithuanians should receive their grand duke from the hands of the king of poland, and that, when the latter should die without children or descendants worthy to succeed him, the poles should elect their new king conjointly with the lithuanians. the alliance concluded in , was renewed in ; and it was added, explicitly, that the lithuanians should not elect their grand duke without the concurrence of the poles, nor the poles their king, without that of the lithuanians. in , the knights militant submitted themselves, and the part of livonia which remained with them, to the domination of the king of poland, as grand duke of lithuania; the new duke of courland became also his feudatory. in fine, in , under sigismond-augustus, the poles and lithuanians held a diet at lublin, in which the grand duchy was limited to the kingdom of poland, so that they thereafter formed but one body, subject to one prince, who was conjointly elected by the two nations, under the double title of king of poland and grand duke of lithuania. it was agreed, also, that the diet should be always held at warsaw, that the two people should have the same senate, the same chamber of deputies; that their coins should be of the same designation; that, in fine, their alliances, their auxiliary troops, and every thing, should be in common. the campaigns of moskow under sigismond iii, wladislaz iv, and etienne batory, amply proved that the lithuanians were worthy of calling the poles brethren; for they were found ready for every sacrifice, when the general good of the country was in question. in the laws of , , and , it was ruled that each third diet should be held in lithuania at grodno; the diets of convocation, and of election and coronation were excepted, however, from this rule. in , the polish and lithuanian laws received an equal force and authority. 'at the epoch of the regeneration of poland, the lithuanians gave the most convincing proofs of their devotedness to the polish cause, in the last years of the existence of poland. in effect, when they became satisfied that, for the common interest, and to give more consistency to the new form of government which it was proposed to establish, at the diet of , it was necessary to strengthen still more the relations between lithuania and the crown; that is to say, between little and great poland, so as to form out of the three provinces a single powerful state, and to obliterate totally all the distinctions which had before existed between the poles and the lithuanians, they made a voluntary sacrifice of the privileges which they had held with great pertinacity, and renounced, without hesitation, that of having a separate army and treasury, consenting to unite themselves under a single administration with the two other provinces. 'the whole world was witness to the heroism which the lithuanians displayed in the glorious confederation of bar, from to ; in the campaigns of and , against foreign rapacity, when kosciuszko, a lithuanian by birth, covered with imperishable laurels the chains of poland. the lithuanians fell, but they fell with the whole of poland, and were buried in the common ruin. how nobly have not the lithuanians been seen to figure among the brave polish patriots, who sought in france, in italy, and in turkey, some chances of restoration for a country which had been the victim of foreign ambition! and how many of them have not been found under the banners of dombrowski, in italy, and under those of kniaziewiez, upon the danube? have we not seen, in the years and , twelve thousand lithuanians, united with their brethren, the volhynians, the podolians, and the ukranians, hastening to range themselves under the banners of the army of the grand duchy of warsaw? in , their joy was extreme, when they thought that their political existence was, at last, about to be renewed. then was seen the cavalier of lithuania, united with the white eagle, decorating the flags planted on the walls of wilno. but the disastrous retreat of the french army struck a mortal blow to the destinies of those countries. the kingdom of poland was proclaimed in ; the diets of warsaw, of , , and , preserved silence respecting the lot of the grand duchy of lithuania. a look full of hope from all lithuania was turned once more towards warsaw, upon the th of may, , the day of coronation of nicholas the st, but the reunion of lithuania was not even made a question of.' [_tableau de la pologne, ancienne et moderne, par malte brun, edition refondue et augmentee par leonard chodzko. paris, ._ pp. - . tom. i.] no. ii. address of the national government of poland to the inhabitants of lithuania, volhynia, podolia, and ukraine.[ ] _brethren, and fellow citizens!_ the national government of regenerated poland, happy on being able at last to address you in the name of the bond of brotherhood and liberty, is anxious to lay before you the present state of our country, and to show you our wants, our dangers, and our hopes. the wall which separated us is broken down--your wishes and ours realized. the polish eagle flies over our territory. united as we are, hand and heart, we will henceforth proceed in concert to accomplish the difficult, perilous, but just and sacred work--the restoration of our country. the manifesto of the diet, in explaining the cause of our rising, gave an account of our sentiments as well as yours. scarcely had we risen in arms, provided with but few means, and uncertain what course to pursue, before we showed to the world and to the emperor nicholas that the same spirit animated us, and that we were desirous to become, as we had formerly been, but one and the same nation. the emperor nicholas did not wish to consecrate the tomb of his brother by a monument, which, during the life time of alexander, would have sealed the glory of his reign. he did not wish to regard us as poles, bowed down with injuries--as citizens of a free and independent country;--and would treat with us only as slaves who had rebelled against russia. we have arrested--we have driven back the threatening phalanxes of his different corps. of the forces of which our army was composed, some fought here against the main body of the enemy; others penetrated into your provinces to call forth our brethren to range themselves under the national banner. you did not wait for this appeal. at the very commencement of the insurrection, many of your citizens explained their sentiments and their wishes in the national assembly, and some raised regiments, dignified by the names of your provinces; in fine, whole districts of lithuania and volhynia rose _en masse_. the partition of poland has been denominated a crime by the unanimous voice of europe, and who at this day will revoke such a decision? who will venture to come forward as the champion against it? undoubtedly none! and we have the well-grounded hope that europe will hasten to recognize our independence, as soon as we have proved by our courage, our perseverance, our union, our moderate and noble conduct, that we deserve to be a free nation. this revolution is only a consequence of our oppression and our misfortunes. it was the wish of our hearts, and arises from the nature of our history, which displays our determination from the very beginning, and proves that our rising was not of foreign prompting. it is not civil war--it is not tainted with the blood of our brethren--we have not overturned social institutions in order to raise up new ones at hazard;--it is a war of independence, the most just of wars. this is the character of our revolution, which is at once mild, but firm--which with one arm conquers the enemy, and with the other raises and ennobles the needy peasant. we admire england and france--we wish to be, like them, a civilized nation, but without ceasing to be poles! nations cannot and ought not to change the elements of their existence. each has its climate, industry, religion, manners, character, education, and history. from these different elements spring the feelings or passions which display themselves in revolutions, and the circumstances proper to be adopted in their future conduct. individuality strongly expressed, forms the power of a people. we have preserved ours in the midst of slavery. love of country, prepared to make every sacrifice--courage--piety--noble-mindedness, and gentleness, formed the character of our forefathers. these qualities also are ours. the patriots of warsaw triumphed without chiefs and without law; yet with what crime can they be charged? an army of , men, and, in short, the whole kingdom, rose as if by enchantment; and how did they conduct themselves towards the grand duke constantine? that prince, who for fifteen years had shown himself destitute of regard or pity for our feelings and liberties, was in our power; but he knew the nation, and, just to it for once only, he intrusted his person and his army to our honor! at the moment of alarm, we did not listen to the voice of public vengeance, but respected the prince and his troops, without taking advantage of our superiority. our battalions who had awaited with a firm determination all the forces of russia, allowed to pass through their ranks the fallen enemy, whose safety was guaranteed by the national honor. the generosity of the nation has been proved by many isolated facts, and europe admires our moderation as much as our valor. brethren, fellow-citizens, equal admiration still awaits us. without delay, then, come forward with the whole of your force simultaneously, and act as one man in peace and in war; it is the people who are the source of all power. to the people, then, direct your views and your affections. children, worthy of your fathers, you will act like them; you will break the odious bonds, and you will cement a holy alliance by reciprocal benefits and by gratitude. in other countries it is by force, and force alone, that the people recover their liberties--here those liberties are received as the gift of their brethren. a generous, just, and necessary deed will become the act only of your own choice, and you will proclaim to the people their independence, and the return of the polish eagles to their native soil. our fields will lose nothing in cultivation and value when they are tilled by the industry of brave men. you will be ennobled in the eyes of civilized europe, and your country will gain millions of fellow-citizens, who, like our brave peasants, will fly to the defence of their liberty, and drive back a power whose character is that only of slavery. do not forget, brethren and fellow citizens, that the greek religion is professed by a great part of the people. toleration is one of the qualities of civilization. the clergy, the churches, and religion, shall be placed under the protection of the government, and will lend you their assistance in carrying this measure of justice into effect. [the address goes on to enlarge upon the respect paid by polish noblemen to religious rites and feelings, and calls on the people on this occasion to follow their example; also to send deputies from the different provinces to the national congress. it then goes on to describe the vast power of russia, and the difficulties to be encountered, much in the same manner as the proclamation of skrzynecki, and concludes thus:--] god hath already wrought prodigies for us. god, and not the emperor of russia, will be our judge! he will decide. he will decide who hath committed perjury, who has been the victim of oppression, and who ought to obtain the victory. we have already fought with success, in the name of the god of our fathers; and we will fight till at length we have accomplished the ends of justice. all the nations of europe possessed of the feelings of humanity tremble for our fate, and exult with joy at our successes.--they only wait your general rising to hail you as members of the free and independent nations of europe. brethren and fellow-citizens! when we shall have finished this terrible and unequal contest, we will invite the powers of europe to form themselves into a tribunal of justice; we will appear before them covered with our blood, lay open the book of our annals, unroll the chart of europe, and say--'behold our cause and yours! the injustice done to poland is known to you: you behold her despair; for her courage and generosity appears to her enemies!' brethren! let us hope in god. he will inspire the breast of our judges, who, obeying the dictates of eternal justice, will say--'long live poland! free and independent!' the president of the national government, (signed) the prince czartoriski. warsaw, may , . no. iii. there is a rich consolation for the sufferings of a just cause, in the demonstrations of sympathy which my countrymen have uniformly met with on the part of the people among whom they have been thrown in their exile. i cannot refuse myself the satisfaction of inserting here one among the many notices which have appeared in the journals of the day, exhibiting the warm interest with which they have been regarded by the people of france. [from the n.y. courier des etats unis, th april.] 'the _journal of saoine and loire_ publishes full details of the arrival of the poles at maçon. the reception given to the third detachment, which has passed through that city, was even still more marked, affectionate, and touching than that of the preceding. all the inhabitants of the country quitted their labors, to go out to meet the exiles. the national guard and the troops of the line paid them the honors of the place. salvos of artillery announced their arrival and their departure. it was a triumphal march. the director of the packet boats gratuitously transported the poles from chalons to lyons. at maçon, just as the packet boat pushed off, a polish captain threw his sword upon the bank, exclaiming--'brave maçonnois, i give you the dearest possession i have in the world; preserve it as a token of our gratitude.' the sword was carried in triumph to the _hotel de ville_, of maçon, where it was deposited, and a subscription was opened to make a present to the brave stranger of a sword of honor. 'the arrival of this column at lyons was celebrated with great solemnity. an idea of it may be formed from the recital which is given in the _precurseur de lyon_. '"since the triumphal passage of the veteran of liberty, lyons has seen nothing so magnificent as the great movement of which the arrival of the poles was the signal. from eighty to a hundred thousand souls marched before the column, upon the road of bresse, and from far beyond the faubourgs. having reached the entrance of the city, escorted by the elite of its inhabitants, the poles found themselves in the midst of an immense crowd, who made the air ring with their cries of enthusiasm and sympathy. from thence to the place de terreaux, the column experienced extreme difficulty in advancing through the throngs of the delirious multitude. words would fail to give the brilliant colors of this truly sublime picture. '"maledictions against the infamous policy of the cabinets, mingled with the cries of 'vive la pologne!' the accents of generous indignation were united with those of a deep and heartfelt pity for those remnants of an exiled people. '"a banquet was prepared at the brotteaux. one of the committee ascended a carriage to conduct hither that young heroine [the countess plater, we presume,] who follows to a land of exile her noble companions in arms, as she had followed them upon the field of battle. the people had scarcely recognized her, when they precipitated themselves towards her, unharnessed the horses, and dragged the carriage in triumph to the place of the assemblage. '"the banquet was attended by more than five hundred persons, and the committee had been forced to refuse a great number of subscribers on account of the smallness of the accommodations. '"the first toast, given by the president, m. galibert, was, 'to immortal poland!' this toast, enlarged upon with an eloquence full of warmth and pathos, excited a universal enthusiasm. the french embraced their noble guests, and it was a touching spectacle--this assembly, electrified by the most pure emotions of the soul, and in which tears flowed from every eye. '"it was affecting to see the physiognomies of the brave poles during this solemnity. many of them understood the french language, and tears flowed down their cheeks at each of the allusions which the orators made to their absent country, their crushed revolution. the young heroine, seated by the side of the president, and who excited a profound and general interest, could hardly suppress the sobs which oppressed her. '"the most perfect order reigned through the whole fete. not a gendarme was present, and no excess of the slightest kind occurred. this countless multitude was calm, notwithstanding the violence of its emotions. the people proved how little their masters understand them."' no. iv. the following extract from the london courier of april th, , in reference to the recent imperial manifesto which converts poland into a province of russia, may serve to confirm the remarks which we have made in the text, on the system of deception practised by the emperor nicholas towards the cabinets both of england and france, on the subject of poland. * * * * * 'we perceive that the manifesto of the emperor of russia, relative to poland, which we gave on saturday, has excited general indignation in france, as well as in this country. perhaps, as the poles are not of a character to be awed into submission by the power of their oppressors, whilst the slightest chance of emancipation is open to them, it is better for the cause of humanity that they should be tied hand and foot in the bonds of slavery, than that any opportunity should be afforded them of again saturating the soil of poland with the blood of its best and bravest patriots. if life with disgrace be better than death without dishonor, the destruction of the nationality of poland may not be so great an evil as the world at large imagine. if the utter impossibility of successful revolt be clearly shown, the poles may at length wear their fetters without resorting to vain attempts to shake them off; and the monarch who has enslaved them, may gradually witness the extinction of mind, in proportion as he coerces and binds the body. but what a sad disgrace it is upon the government and people of this country to have neglected, in proper season, the means of securing to the brave and unfortunate people of poland a nationality which would have given to them the form and substance of liberty, without involving the necessity of a rupture with the power which has conquered them. is it not true, that, at a time when the warm-hearted and generous portion of the people of this country were calling upon the government to exercise the influence and power of the british crown on behalf of the poles, the reply was, 'we cannot go to war with the emperor of russia for foreign interests--we cannot insist upon his evacuating poland, and leaving the country in a state of complete independence; but we will use our good offices towards obtaining favorable terms for the insurgents; and we have already the satisfaction of knowing that the emperor nicholas has declared that the nationality of poland shall in no case be forfeited, and that in all other respects the world shall be astonished at the extent of his generosity towards the vanquished.' 'is there a member of the government, or any other person, who will tell us that such language as this was not made publicly and privately, in parliament and out of parliament, in the newspapers and out of the newspapers, and that the sole excuse for non-intervention was not the real or pretended belief that the nationality of poland would be respected, and the conduct of the emperor nicholas be full of generosity and magnanimity? gracious god! and are we come to such a pass that the sovereign of a semi-barbarous country can laugh at the honor and dignity of the british name! is all the respect that he can show to the good offices of the british government, in behalf of a great-minded people, to be found in empty professions and unmeaning declarations; and are we to put up tamely with one of the greatest insults that ever was inflicted upon the government of the country? was it for this that we conciliated the autocrat of the north on the belgian question? and is all the return of our concessions a bold and naked defiance of our power, and a determination to convince the world that the days of british influence are passed forever? perhaps we shall be told, even now, of the magnanimous intentions of the emperor of russia; but the cheat is too stale. every body knows not only that we have truckled to russia in vain, but that to deception she has added insult, and that at this moment there is a russian ambassador in town, with instructions to cajole the government on the belgian question, and to withhold the ratification of the treaty until after the passing or rejecting of the reform bill, when the emperor may be enabled by a change of government to dispense with it altogether.--but we are tired of the subject; the more we look at it, the more we feel disgraced. we blame not this or that minister; for the intentions of the government towards poland, we firmly believe, were kind in the extreme; but we blush for the country at large in having purchased the chance of peace at the sacrifice of honor.' no. v. the following is the imperial manifesto referred to in the preceding article, as it appears in the berlin state gazette, under the head of warsaw, march th, . * * * * * 'by the grace of god, nicholas i, emperor of russia, king of poland, etc. when, by our manifesto of jan. , last year, we announced to our faithful subjects the march of our troops into the kingdom of poland, which was momentarily snatched from the lawful authority, we at the same time informed them of our intention to fix the future fate of this country on a durable basis, suited to its wants, and calculated to promote the welfare of our whole empire. now that an end has been put by force of arms to the rebellion in poland, and that the nation, led away by agitators, has returned to its duty, and is restored to tranquillity, we deem it right to carry into execution our plan with regard to the introduction of the new order of things, whereby the tranquillity and union of the two nations, which providence has entrusted to our care, may be forever guarded against new attempts. poland, conquered in the year by the victorious arms of russia, obtained by the magnanimity of our illustrious predecessor, the emperor alexander, not only its national existence, but also special laws sanctioned by a constitutional charter. these favors, however, would not satisfy the eternal enemies of order and lawful power. obstinately persevering in their culpable projects, they ceased not one moment to dream of a separation between the two nations subject to our sceptre, and in their presumption they dared to abuse the favors of the restorer of their country, by employing for the destruction of his noble work the very laws and liberties which his mighty arm had generously granted them. bloodshed was the consequence of this crime. the tranquillity and happiness which the kingdom of poland had enjoyed to a degree till then unknown, vanished in the midst of civil war and a general devastation. all these evils are now passed. the kingdom of poland, again subject to our sceptre, will regain tranquillity, and again flourish in the bosom of peace, restored to it under the auspices of a vigilant government. hence we consider it one of our most sacred duties to watch with paternal care over the welfare of our faithful subjects, and to use every means in our power to prevent the recurrence of similar catastrophes, by taking from the ill-disposed the power of disturbing public tranquillity. as it is, moreover, our wish to secure to the inhabitants of poland the continuance of all the essential requisites for the happiness of individuals, and of the country in general, namely, security of persons and property, liberty of conscience, and all the laws and privileges of towns and communes, so that the kingdom of poland, with a separate administration adapted to its wants, may not cease to form an integral part of our empire, and that the inhabitants of this country may henceforward constitute a nation united with the russians by sympathy and fraternal sentiments, we have, according to these principles, ordained and resolved this day, by a new organic statute, to introduce a new form and order in the administration of our kingdom of poland. 'st petersburgh, february , . 'nicholas. 'the secretary of state, count stephen grabowski.' after this manifesto, the organic statutes of poland are given, the principal of which are as follows: * * * * * 'by the grace of god, we, nicholas i, emperor and autocrat of all the russias, king of poland, &c, &c. 'in our constant solicitude for the happiness of the nations which providence has confided to our government, we are occupied in fixing the basis for the future organization of the kingdom of poland, having regard to the true interests and positions of the country, and to the local wants and manners of the inhabitants. 'general dispositions. 'art. . the kingdom of poland is forever to be re-united to the russian empire, and form an inseparable part of that empire. it shall have a particular administration conformably to its local necessities, as well as a civil and military code. the statutes and the laws of cities and towns remain in full vigor. 'art. . the crown of the kingdom of poland is hereditary in our person and in our heirs and successors, agreeably to the order of succession to the throne prescribed by all the russias. 'art. . the coronation of the emperors of all the russias and kings of poland shall be one and the same ceremonial, which shall take place at moscow, in the presence of a deputation from the kingdom of poland, which shall assist at that solemnity with the deputies from the other parts of the empire. 'art. . in the possible event of a regency in russia, the power of the regent or regentess of the empire will extend over the kingdom of poland. 'art. . the freedom of worship is guarantied; every one is at liberty to exercise his religion openly, under the protection of government; and the difference of christian faiths shall never prove a pretext for the violation of the rights and privileges which are allowed to all the inhabitants. the roman catholic religion, being that of the majority of our polish subjects, shall be the object of especial protection of the government. 'art. . the funds which the roman catholic clergy possess, and those of the greek church united, shall be considered as the common and inviolable property of the hierarchy of each of those creeds. 'art. . the protection of the laws is assured to all the inhabitants without distinction of rank or class. each shall be empowered to assume dignities or to exercise public functions, according to his personal merits or talents. 'art. . individual liberty is guarantied and protected by the existing laws. no one shall be deprived of his liberty, or called to justice, if he be not a transgressor of the law in all the forms prescribed. every one detained shall be apprised of the motive of arrest. 'art. . each person arrested must submit to a delay of three days to be heard and judged of, according to the forms of law, before competent tribunals: if he be found innocent, he will instantly obtain his liberty. he will be equally restored to liberty who shall furnish a sufficient surety. 'art. . the form of judicial inquests directed against the superior functionaries of the kingdom, and against persons accused of high treason, shall be determined by a particular law, the foundation of which shall be accordant with the other laws of our empire. 'art. . the right of property of individuals, and of corporations, is declared sacred and inviolable, inasmuch as it will be conformable to the existing laws. all the subjects of the kingdom of poland are perfectly free to quit the country, and to carry away their goods, provided they conform to the regulations published to that effect. 'art. . the penalty of confiscation shall not be enforced but against state crimes of the first class, as may be hereafter determined by particular laws. 'art. . publication of sentiments, by means of the press, shall be subjected to restrictions which will protect religion, the inviolability of superior authority, the interests of morals, and personal considerations. particular regulations, to this effect, will be published according to the principles which serve as a basis to this object in the other parts of our empire. 'art. . the kingdom of poland shall proportionably contribute to the general expenditure and to the wants of the empire. the proportion of taxes will be stated hereafter. 'art. . all contributions and all taxes which existed in november, , shall be levied after the manner formerly settled till the new fixing of taxes. 'art. . the treasury of the kingdom of poland, and all the other branches of the administration, shall be separated from the administration of the other parts of the kingdom. 'art. . the public debt of poland, acknowledged by us, shall be guarantied as formerly, by the government, and indemnified by the receipts of the kingdom. 'art. . the bank of the kingdom of poland, and the laws respecting credit, shall continue under the protection of government. 'art. . the mode of commercial transactions between the russian empire and the kingdom of poland shall be regulated according to the respective interests of the two countries. 'art. . our army in the empire and in the kingdom shall compose one in common, without distinction of russian or polish troops. we shall reserve to ourselves a future decision of this, by an especial law, by what arrangement, and upon what basis, the kingdom of poland shall participate with our army. the number of troops which shall serve as the military defence of the kingdom will be also ultimately determined upon by a law. 'art. . those of our subjects of the empire of russia, who are established in the kingdom of poland, who possess or shall possess, real property in that country, shall enjoy all the rights of natives. it shall be the same with those of our subjects of the kingdom of poland, who shall establish themselves, and shall possess property, in the other provinces of the empire. we reserve to ourselves to grant hereafter letters of naturalization to other persons, as well to strangers as to russians, who are not yet established there. those of our subjects of the russian empire who may reside for a certain time in poland, and those of our subjects of the kingdom of poland who may sojourn in the other parts of the empire, are subject to the laws of the country where they reside. 'art. . the superior administration of the kingdom of poland is confided to a council of administration, which shall govern the kingdom in our name, under the presidency of the governor of the kingdom. 'art. . the council of administration is composed of the governor of the kingdom, of superior directors, who superintend the commissions, and among whom are divided the interests of the administration, of comptroller, presiding over the supreme chamber of finance, and of other members, whom we shall appoint by special orders.' footnotes: [footnote : not having a copy of this address in the original, we make use of a rather unsatisfactory translation, which we find in the journals of the day.] list of polish names, _with their pronunciation in english_. polish alphabet. a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q ah bey tsey dey ey ef ghey hah ye ee kah el em en o pey koo r s t u w x y z. err es tey oo voo ix ee zed. _note._ in every polish name, or word, the letters are all sounded and pronounced, as their names indicate. names as spelled in their pronunciation. polish. a adamski ahdamsky augustow owgoostov alexota ahlexotah b bestuzew bestoozhev boleslaw-chrobry boleslav-khrobry biala-cerkiew beahlah-tseyrkyev bilinski belinsky biernacki byernatsky bialystok beahlistok brzesc brzhests boimie boimea boguslawski bogooslavsky bialolenka beahlolenkah bug boog bielak bieylak berowski beyrovsky blendowsky blendovsky bystrzyca bistrzhitsa berzykowski berzhyhkovsky beysogola beysogolah bialowiez beahlovyezh belzyca belzheetsah borowa borovah beresteczko beyrestechko bady bahdy brainsk brainsk bielsk byelsk bukowski bookovsky bialobrzegi byahlobrzheygy bocki botsky blonie blony c chlopicki khlopitsky chodkiewicz khodkyavitch czarnecki tcharnetsky czartoryski tchartorisky ciechanowiec tsyakhanovyets czyzewski tcheejevski czaykowski tshahovski czarno-morskie tcharna-morskyey chlapowski khlaposvky ceglow tseyglov chrzanowski khrzhahnovsky czyzew tcheejev czaykiszki tchaikishki czenstochowa tchenstokhovah cytowiany tsetoviahny czarna tcharnah ciechanow tsyeykhhanov chodzko khodzko d dembek dembek downarowicz dovnarovich dombrowski dombrovsky diebitsch deebich dwernicki dvernitsky dobre dobrey dembe-wielkie dembey-vielkye dnieper dneeper dembinski dembinsky dawgeliszki davgalishky dubno doobno dlugie-siodlo dloogya-syodlo dobzyn dobzhin. g grabowski grahbovsky grodno grodno grochow grokhov granica grahnitsah goclaw gotslav gotembiewski gotembyevsky gielgud gyelgood grombkow grombkov gruszki grooshky galiczyn gahlichyn graiewo grahyeyvo gielgudyszki gyelgoodishky gury-konarskie goory-konarskya gorzdy gorsdy giedroyc gyedroits h hauke houka hildebrand hildeybrand hurtig hoortig j jablonowski yablonovsky jgelstrom eegelstrom jurgaszko yoorgashko jezierski yazhyersky jadow yahdov jablonna yablonnah jakubow yahkoobov januwek yahnoovek jankowski yankovsky jendrzeiow yendrzhagov jarburg yarboorg jagiellow yahgyellov jedlina yedlenah janow yahnov jeroma yaroma k kosciuszko kostchioushko krzyzanowski krzhezhanovsky kichelbeker keekhelbaker kachowski kakhovsky krasinski krahsinsky kornatowski kornahtovsky kozienice kozhyanetsey krukowiecki krookovyetsky kock kotsk kaluszyn kahlooshyn kostrzyn kostrzhyn konik konyik kawenczyn kahvenchyn kicki keetsky krasny-taw krasneestav kozieradzki kozhyaradzky karczew karchev kurow koorov konskawola konskahvolah keydany kaydahny kowno kovno kazimierz kahzheemyerzh kolodno kolodno krzemieniece krzheymyeynyets knielce knyeltsa kuflew kooflev kolacze kolachey kamionka kahmyonkah kleczkowo klechkovo kaminski kaminsky koss koss kalwaryia kalvahreya karwowska kavovskah kurzany koorzhahny kikiernicki kekyornitsky kniaziewicz knyahzyavich l lubowidzki looboveedzky lazienki lahzhyenky lelewel leyleyvel lubecki loobetsky lubinski loobinsky lowicz lovich lubomirska loobomeerskah lenczna lenchnah lukow lookov lublin looblin liwiec levyets leduchowski leydookhovsky lagowski lahgovsky lewandowski leyvandovsky latowicz lahtovich lipawa lepahvah lukowiec lookovyets lomza lomzah lubartow loobartov lubania loobahnyah lipinska lepinskah lida ledah lysobyki lysobyky laskarzew laskarzhev laga lahgah luberacz loobeyrach m murawiew mooravyev mieciszewski myatsishevsky mokotow mokotov miendzyrzyc myenjeerzhyts makowiec mahkovyets minsk minsk macieiowice matsyaovcetsa mingosy mingosy milosna melosna makow mahkov malachowski mahlahkhovsky maslowski maslovsky markuszew markushev magnuszewo magnooshavo memel mamel mycielski meetsyelsky modlin modlin milatyn meelahtyn mordy mordy modzele modzala mniszew mneshev menzynin menzhenin malinowski mahlenovsky mlawa mlahvah matusiewicz mahtoosyavich myszogola meshogolah michalowski mekhahlovsky maluszyn mahlooshyn morawski moravsky n niemcewicz nyemtseyvich nasielsk nahsyelsk narew nahrev nowawies novah-vies nowy-dwor novy-dvor niewiaza nyavyahzhah narewska nahrevkah nurzec noorzhets neydenburg nidenboorg nowe-miasto nova-myasto nadarzyn nahdarzhyn o ostrowski ostrovsky ostrolenka ostrolenkah orsyca orseetsah okuniew okoonyev osmiany osmyahny ostrog ostrog orla orlah oyrany oyrahny p plichta plikhtah pestel pestel potocki pototsky poniatowski ponyahtovsky powonzki povonsky pac pats pultusk pooltoosk parczewo parchavo praga prahgah pientka pyentkah paszkiewicz pashkyavich pulawy poolahoy polonga polongah prondzynski proodzynsky piast pyast plomieniec plomyanyets proskirow proskerov piaski pyasky poznan pornan prasynsz prasnysh plater plahter podbrzeze podbrzhazha piwecki pevetsky pawenduny pahvendoony piaseczno pyasechno r rozniecki rozhnyetsky releiew reyleyiev rukiewicz rookyavich ruda roodah ryczywol reecheevol radom rahdom radomierza rahdomyerzhah radzimin rahjeemin rybinski reebinsky rozany rozhahny rosseyny rosseyny radziwil rahjecvel radziwilow rahjeevelov raygrod raigrod rumszyski roomshysky rewdany revdahny rasinowicz rahsenovich retow retov racioncz rahtsyonzh ruzycki roozhytsky s sokolnicki sokolnitsky soltyk soltyk szlegel shleygel suwarow soovahrov sobieski sobyesky sapieha sahpyahah szulec shoolets siemiontkowski syamyontkovsky skrzynecki skrzhynetsky szembek shembek sierawski syeyravsky siedlce syedltsa serock seyrotsk stryinski stryinsky seroczyn serochyn sokolow sokolov stoczek stochek swider sveder stanislawow stahneslahvov swierza svyerzhah szachowski shakhovsky skarzynski skarkhynsky siekierki syakerky sznayder shnider szuszerin shoosherin siennica syenneetsah szymanski shymansky szawla shavlah swienciany svyentsyahny szerwinty shervinty sucha sookhah styr styr stary-konstantynow stahry-konstantenov starygrod stahregrod stoiadly stoyadly strzebucza strzhaboocha suraz sooraz sierakowski syeyrahkovsky szymanowski shemahnovsky szczuczyn shchoochyn suwalki soovalky swieta svieytah salacki sahlatsky slupecki sloopeytsky sloboda slobodah sonk sonk siemiatycze syamyahtecha t tarnowski tarnovsky trembicki trembitski turno toorno targowek targovek troki troky tarnopol tarnopol tarnogura tarnogoorah troszyn troshyn tykocin tykotsin u uminski oominski uscilug oostseloog uchania ookhanyah w wigielin vegyalen wielkaniee vyelkahneetsa wiliaminow velyahmeenov wyzechowski vezhakhovsky wysocki vesotsky wengrzecki vengrzhetsky wonsowicz vonsovich wolicki volitsky wlodawa vlodahvah wielezynski vealazhynsky wengrow vengrov wawr vavr wkra vkrah wilanow velahnov wodynie vodenya wieprz vyeyprzh wilno vilno wilkomierz vilkomyerzh wereszczaki vareshchahky wielkie vyelkya wyszkow vyshkov wroclaw vrotslav wiliia veleyah worna vornah wierzbna vyerzhbnah z zamoyski zahmoisky zymirski zymeersky zegrz zeygrzh zlotoria zlotoryah zelechow zheyleykhov ziemiecki zyeymyeytsky zombky zombky zagroby zahgroby zaluski zahloosky zoliborz zoleborzh zimna-woda zimna-vodah zamosc zahmosts zambrowo zambrovo zeymy zaymy zawadzka zahvadzkah zaliwski zahlivsky zabiello zabyello [transcribers note: original spelling of names and place-names has been retained] +---------------------------------------------------------+ | | | transcriber's note: | | a number of obvious typographical errors have been | | corrected in this text. for a complete list, please | | see the bottom of this document. | | corrections listed in the existing errata at the | | end of this book have been applied to the text. | | | +---------------------------------------------------------+ the practice and theory of bolshevism bertrand russell london: george allen & unwin ltd. ruskin house, museum street, w.c. _first published november _ _reprinted february _ (_all rights reserved_) preface the russian revolution is one of the great heroic events of the world's history. it is natural to compare it to the french revolution, but it is in fact something of even more importance. it does more to change daily life and the structure of society: it also does more to change men's beliefs. the difference is exemplified by the difference between marx and rousseau: the latter sentimental and soft, appealing to emotion, obliterating sharp outlines; the former systematic like hegel, full of hard intellectual content, appealing to historic necessity and the technical development of industry, suggesting a view of human beings as puppets in the grip of omnipotent material forces. bolshevism combines the characteristics of the french revolution with those of the rise of islam; and the result is something radically new, which can only be understood by a patient and passionate effort of imagination. before entering upon any detail, i wish to state, as clearly and unambiguously as i can, my own attitude towards this new thing. by far the most important aspect of the russian revolution is as an attempt to realize communism. i believe that communism is necessary to the world, and i believe that the heroism of russia has fired men's hopes in a way which was essential to the realization of communism in the future. regarded as a splendid attempt, without which ultimate success would have been very improbable, bolshevism deserves the gratitude and admiration of all the progressive part of mankind. but the method by which moscow aims at establishing communism is a pioneer method, rough and dangerous, too heroic to count the cost of the opposition it arouses. i do not believe that by this method a stable or desirable form of communism can be established. three issues seem to me possible from the present situation. the first is the ultimate defeat of bolshevism by the forces of capitalism. the second is the victory of the bolshevists accompanied by a complete loss of their ideals and a régime of napoleonic imperialism. the third is a prolonged world-war, in which civilization will go under, and all its manifestations (including communism) will be forgotten. it is because i do not believe that the methods of the third international can lead to the desired goal that i have thought it worth while to point out what seem to me undesirable features in the present state of russia. i think there are lessons to be learnt which must be learnt if the world is ever to achieve what is desired by those in the west who have sympathy with the original aims of the bolsheviks. i do not think these lessons can be learnt except by facing frankly and fully whatever elements of failure there are in russia. i think these elements of failure are less attributable to faults of detail than to an impatient philosophy, which aims at creating a new world without sufficient preparation in the opinions and feelings of ordinary men and women. but although i do not believe that communism can be realized immediately by the spread of bolshevism, i do believe that, if bolshevism falls, it will have contributed a legend and a heroic attempt without which ultimate success might never have come. a fundamental economic reconstruction, bringing with it very far-reaching changes in ways of thinking and feeling, in philosophy and art and private relations, seems absolutely necessary if industrialism is to become the servant of man instead of his master. in all this, i am at one with the bolsheviks; politically, i criticize them only when their methods seem to involve a departure from their own ideals. there is, however, another aspect of bolshevism from which i differ more fundamentally. bolshevism is not merely a political doctrine; it is also a religion, with elaborate dogmas and inspired scriptures. when lenin wishes to prove some proposition, he does so, if possible, by quoting texts from marx and engels. a full-fledged communist is not merely a man who believes that land and capital should be held in common, and their produce distributed as nearly equally as possible. he is a man who entertains a number of elaborate and dogmatic beliefs--such as philosophic materialism, for example--which may be true, but are not, to a scientific temper, capable of being known to be true with any certainty. this habit, of militant certainty about objectively doubtful matters, is one from which, since the renaissance, the world has been gradually emerging, into that temper of constructive and fruitful scepticism which constitutes the scientific outlook. i believe the scientific outlook to be immeasurably important to the human race. if a more just economic system were only attainable by closing men's minds against free inquiry, and plunging them back into the intellectual prison of the middle ages, i should consider the price too high. it cannot be denied that, over any short period of time, dogmatic belief is a help in fighting. if all communists become religious fanatics, while supporters of capitalism retain a sceptical temper, it may be assumed that the communists will win, while in the contrary case the capitalists would win. it seems evident, from the attitude of the capitalist world to soviet russia, of the entente to the central empires, and of england to ireland and india, that there is no depth of cruelty, perfidy or brutality from which the present holders of power will shrink when they feel themselves threatened. if, in order to oust them, nothing short of religious fanaticism will serve, it is they who are the prime sources of the resultant evil. and it is permissible to hope that, when they have been dispossessed, fanaticism will fade, as other fanaticisms have faded in the past. the present holders of power are evil men, and the present manner of life is doomed. to make the transition with a minimum of bloodshed, with a maximum of preservation of whatever has value in our existing civilization, is a difficult problem. it is this problem which has chiefly occupied my mind in writing the following pages. i wish i could think that its solution would be facilitated by some slight degree of moderation and humane feeling on the part of those who enjoy unjust privileges in the world as it is. the present work is the outcome of a visit to russia, supplemented by much reading and discussion both before and after. i have thought it best to record what i saw separately from theoretical considerations, and i have endeavoured to state my impressions without any bias for or against the bolsheviks. i received at their hands the greatest kindness and courtesy, and i owe them a debt of gratitude for the perfect freedom which they allowed me in my investigations. i am conscious that i was too short a time in russia to be able to form really reliable judgments; however, i share this drawback with most other westerners who have written on russia since the october revolution. i feel that bolshevism is a matter of such importance that it is necessary, for almost every political question, to define one's attitude in regard to it; and i have hopes that i may help others to define their attitude, even if only by way of opposition to what i have written. i have received invaluable assistance from my secretary, miss d.w. black, who was in russia shortly after i had left. the chapter on art and education is written by her throughout. neither is responsible for the other's opinions. bertrand russell _september, ._ contents page preface part i the present condition of russia i. what is hoped from bolshevism ii. general characteristics iii. lenin, trotsky and gorky iv. art and education v. communism and the soviet constitution vi. the failure of russian industry vii. daily life in moscow viii. town and country ix. international policy part ii bolshevik theory i. the materialistic theory of history ii. deciding forces in politics iii. bolshevik criticism of democracy iv. revolution and dictatorship v. mechanism and the individual vi. why russian communism has failed vii. conditions for the success of communism part i the present condition of russia i what is hoped from bolshevism to understand bolshevism it is not sufficient to know facts; it is necessary also to enter with sympathy or imagination into a new spirit. the chief thing that the bolsheviks have done is to create a hope, or at any rate to make strong and widespread a hope which was formerly confined to a few. this aspect of the movement is as easy to grasp at a distance as it is in russia--perhaps even easier, because in russia present circumstances tend to obscure the view of the distant future. but the actual situation in russia can only be understood superficially if we forget the hope which is the motive power of the whole. one might as well describe the thebaid without mentioning that the hermits expected eternal bliss as the reward of their sacrifices here on earth. i cannot share the hopes of the bolsheviks any more than those of the egyptian anchorites; i regard both as tragic delusions, destined to bring upon the world centuries of darkness and futile violence. the principles of the sermon on the mount are admirable, but their effect upon average human nature was very different from what was intended. those who followed christ did not learn to love their enemies or to turn the other cheek. they learned instead to use the inquisition and the stake, to subject the human intellect to the yoke of an ignorant and intolerant priesthood, to degrade art and extinguish science for a thousand years. these were the inevitable results, not of the teaching, but of fanatical belief in the teaching. the hopes which inspire communism are, in the main, as admirable as those instilled by the sermon on the mount, but they are held as fanatically, and are likely to do as much harm. cruelty lurks in our instincts, and fanaticism is a camouflage for cruelty. fanatics are seldom genuinely humane, and those who sincerely dread cruelty will be slow to adopt a fanatical creed. i do not know whether bolshevism can be prevented from acquiring universal power. but even if it cannot, i am persuaded that those who stand out against it, not from love of ancient injustice, but in the name of the free spirit of man, will be the bearers of the seeds of progress, from which, when the world's gestation is accomplished, new life will be born. the war has left throughout europe a mood of disillusionment and despair which calls aloud for a new religion, as the only force capable of giving men the energy to live vigorously. bolshevism has supplied the new religion. it promises glorious things: an end of the injustice of rich and poor, an end of economic slavery, an end of war. it promises an end of the disunion of classes which poisons political life and threatens our industrial system with destruction. it promises an end to commercialism, that subtle falsehood that leads men to appraise everything by its money value, and to determine money value often merely by the caprices of idle plutocrats. it promises a world where all men and women shall be kept sane by work, and where all work shall be of value to the community, not only to a few wealthy vampires. it is to sweep away listlessness and pessimism and weariness and all the complicated miseries of those whose circumstances allow idleness and whose energies are not sufficient to force activity. in place of palaces and hovels, futile vice and useless misery, there is to be wholesome work, enough but not too much, all of it useful, performed by men and women who have no time for pessimism and no occasion for despair. the existing capitalist system is doomed. its injustice is so glaring that only ignorance and tradition could lead wage-earners to tolerate it. as ignorance diminishes, tradition becomes weakened, and the war destroyed the hold upon men's minds of everything merely traditional. it may be that, through the influence of america, the capitalist system will linger for another fifty years; but it will grow continually weaker, and can never recover the position of easy dominance which it held in the nineteenth century. to attempt to bolster it up is a useless diversion of energies which might be expended upon building something new. whether the new thing will be bolshevism or something else, i do not know; whether it will be better or worse than capitalism, i do not know. but that a radically new order of society will emerge, i feel no doubt. and i also feel no doubt that the new order will be either some form of socialism or a reversion to barbarism and petty war such as occurred during the barbarian invasion. if bolshevism remains the only vigorous and effective competitor of capitalism, i believe that no form of socialism will be realized, but only chaos and destruction. this belief, for which i shall give reasons later, is one of the grounds upon which i oppose bolshevism. but to oppose it from the point of view of a supporter of capitalism would be, to my mind, utterly futile and against the movement of history in the present age. the effect of bolshevism as a revolutionary hope is greater outside russia than within the soviet republic. grim realities have done much to kill hope among those who are subject to the dictatorship of moscow. yet even within russia, the communist party, in whose hands all political power is concentrated, still lives by hope, though the pressure of events has made the hope severe and stern and somewhat remote. it is this hope that leads to concentration upon the rising generation. russian communists often avow that there is little hope for those who are already adult, and that happiness can only come to the children who have grown up under the new régime and been moulded from the first to the group-mentality that communism requires. it is only after the lapse of a generation that they hope to create a russia that shall realize their vision. in the western world, the hope inspired by bolshevism is more immediate, less shot through with tragedy. western socialists who have visited russia have seen fit to suppress the harsher features of the present régime, and have disseminated a belief among their followers that the millennium would be quickly realized there if there were no war and no blockade. even those socialists who are not bolsheviks for their own country have mostly done very little to help men in appraising the merits or demerits of bolshevik methods. by this lack of courage they have exposed western socialism to the danger of becoming bolshevik through ignorance of the price that has to be paid and of the uncertainty as to whether the desired goal will be reached in the end. i believe that the west is capable of adopting less painful and more certain methods of reaching socialism than those that have seemed necessary in russia. and i believe that while some forms of socialism are immeasurably better than capitalism, others are even worse. among those that are worse i reckon the form which is being achieved in russia, not only in itself, but as a more insuperable barrier to further progress. in judging of bolshevism from what is to be seen in russia at present, it is necessary to disentangle various factors which contribute to a single result. to begin with, russia is one of the nations that were defeated in the war; this has produced a set of circumstances resembling those found in germany and austria. the food problem, for example, appears to be essentially similar in all three countries. in order to arrive at what is specifically bolshevik, we must first eliminate what is merely characteristic of a country which has suffered military disaster. next we come to factors which are russian, which russian communists share with other russians, but not with other communists. there is, for example, a great deal of disorder and chaos and waste, which shocks westerners (especially germans) even when they are in close political sympathy with the bolsheviks. my own belief is that, although, with the exception of a few very able men, the russian government is less efficient in organization than the germans or the americans would be in similar circumstances, yet it represents what is most efficient in russia, and does more to prevent chaos than any possible alternative government would do. again, the intolerance and lack of liberty which has been inherited from the tsarist régime is probably to be regarded as russian rather than communist. if a communist party were to acquire power in england, it would probably be met by a less irresponsible opposition, and would be able to show itself far more tolerant than any government can hope to be in russia if it is to escape assassination. this, however, is a matter of degree. a great part of the despotism which characterizes the bolsheviks belongs to the essence of their social philosophy, and would have to be reproduced, even if in a milder form, wherever that philosophy became dominant. it is customary among the apologists of bolshevism in the west to excuse its harshness on the ground that it has been produced by the necessity of fighting the entente and its mercenaries. undoubtedly it is true that this necessity has produced many of the worst elements in the present state of affairs. undoubtedly, also, the entente has incurred a heavy load of guilt by its peevish and futile opposition. but the expectation of such opposition was always part of bolshevik theory. a general hostility to the first communist state was both foreseen and provoked by the doctrine of the class war. those who adopt the bolshevik standpoint must reckon with the embittered hostility of capitalist states; it is not worth while to adopt bolshevik methods unless they can lead to good in spite of this hostility. to say that capitalists are wicked and we have no responsibility for their acts is unscientific; it is, in particular, contrary to the marxian doctrine of economic determinism. the evils produced in russia by the enmity of the entente are therefore to be reckoned as essential in the bolshevik method of transition to communism, not as specially russian. i am not sure that we cannot even go a step further. the exhaustion and misery caused by unsuccessful war were necessary to the success of the bolsheviks; a prosperous population will not embark by such methods upon a fundamental economic reconstruction. one can imagine england becoming bolshevik after an unsuccessful war involving the loss of india--no improbable contingency in the next few years. but at present the average wage-earner in england will not risk what he has for the doubtful gain of a revolution. a condition of widespread misery may, therefore, be taken as indispensable to the inauguration of communism, unless, indeed, it were possible to establish communism more or less peacefully, by methods which would not, even temporarily, destroy the economic life of the country. if the hopes which inspired communism at the start, and which still inspire its western advocates, are ever to be realized, the problem of minimizing violence in the transition must be faced. unfortunately, violence is in itself delightful to most really vigorous revolutionaries, and they feel no interest in the problem of avoiding it as far as possible. hatred of enemies is easier and more intense than love of friends. but from men who are more anxious to injure opponents than to benefit the world at large no great good is to be expected. ii general characteristics i entered soviet russia on may th and recrossed the frontier on june th. the russian authorities only admitted me on the express condition that i should travel with the british labour delegation, a condition with which i was naturally very willing to comply, and which that delegation kindly allowed me to fulfil. we were conveyed from the frontier to petrograd, as well as on subsequent journeys, in a special _train de luxe_; covered with mottoes about the social revolution and the proletariat of all countries; we were received everywhere by regiments of soldiers, with the internationale being played on the regimental band while civilians stood bare-headed and soldiers at the salute; congratulatory orations were made by local leaders and answered by prominent communists who accompanied us; the entrances to the carriages were guarded by magnificent bashkir cavalry-men in resplendent uniforms; in short, everything was done to make us feel like the prince of wales. innumerable functions were arranged for us: banquets, public meetings, military reviews, etc. the assumption was that we had come to testify to the solidarity of british labour with russian communism, and on that assumption the utmost possible use was made of us for bolshevik propaganda. we, on the other hand, desired to ascertain what we could of russian conditions and russian methods of government, which was impossible in the atmosphere of a royal progress. hence arose an amicable contest, degenerating at times into a game of hide and seek: while they assured us how splendid the banquet or parade was going to be, we tried to explain how much we should prefer a quiet walk in the streets. i, not being a member of the delegation, felt less obligation than my companions did to attend at propaganda meetings where one knew the speeches by heart beforehand. in this way, i was able, by the help of neutral interpreters, mostly english or american, to have many conversations with casual people whom i met in the streets or on village greens, and to find out how the whole system appears to the ordinary non-political man and woman. the first five days we spent in petrograd, the next eleven in moscow. during this time we were living in daily contact with important men in the government, so that we learned the official point of view without difficulty. i saw also what i could of the intellectuals in both places. we were all allowed complete freedom to see politicians of opposition parties, and we naturally made full use of this freedom. we saw mensheviks, social revolutionaries of different groups, and anarchists; we saw them without the presence of any bolsheviks, and they spoke freely after they had overcome their initial fears. i had an hour's talk with lenin, virtually _tête-à-tête_; i met trotsky, though only in company; i spent a night in the country with kamenev; and i saw a great deal of other men who, though less known outside russia, are of considerable importance in the government. at the end of our time in moscow we all felt a desire to see something of the country, and to get in touch with the peasants, since they form about per cent, of the population. the government showed the greatest kindness in meeting our wishes, and it was decided that we should travel down the volga from nijni novgorod to saratov, stopping at many places, large and small, and talking freely with the inhabitants. i found this part of the time extraordinarily instructive. i learned to know more than i should have thought possible of the life and outlook of peasants, village schoolmasters, small jew traders, and all kinds of people. unfortunately, my friend, clifford allen, fell ill, and my time was much taken up with him. this had, however, one good result, namely, that i was able to go on with the boat to astrakhan, as he was too ill to be moved off it. this not only gave me further knowledge of the country, but made me acquainted with sverdlov, acting minister of transport, who was travelling on the boat to organize the movement of oil from baku up the volga, and who was one of the ablest as well as kindest people whom i met in russia. one of the first things that i discovered after passing the red flag which marks the frontier of soviet russia, amid a desolate region of marsh, pine wood, and barbed wire entanglements, was the profound difference between the theories of actual bolsheviks and the version of those theories current among advanced socialists in this country. friends of russia here think of the dictatorship of the proletariat as merely a new form of representative government, in which only working men and women have votes, and the constituencies are partly occupational, not geographical. they think that "proletariat" means "proletariat," but "dictatorship" does not quite mean "dictatorship." this is the opposite of the truth. when a russian communist speaks of dictatorship, he means the word literally, but when he speaks of the proletariat, he means the word in a pickwickian sense. he means the "class-conscious" part of the proletariat, _i.e._, the communist party.[ ] he includes people by no means proletarian (such as lenin and tchicherin) who have the right opinions, and he excludes such wage-earners as have not the right opinions, whom he classifies as lackeys of the _bourgeoisie_. the communist who sincerely believes the party creed is convinced that private property is the root of all evil; he is so certain of this that he shrinks from no measures, however harsh, which seem necessary for constructing and preserving the communist state. he spares himself as little as he spares others. he works sixteen hours a day, and foregoes his saturday half-holiday. he volunteers for any difficult or dangerous work which needs to be done, such as clearing away piles of infected corpses left by kolchak or denikin. in spite of his position of power and his control of supplies, he lives an austere life. he is not pursuing personal ends, but aiming at the creation of a new social order. the same motives, however, which make him austere make him also ruthless. marx has taught that communism is fatally predestined to come about; this fits in with the oriental traits in the russian character, and produces a state of mind not unlike that of the early successors of mahomet. opposition is crushed without mercy, and without shrinking from the methods of the tsarist police, many of whom are still employed at their old work. since all evils are due to private property, the evils of the bolshevik régime while it has to fight private property will automatically cease as soon as it has succeeded. these views are the familiar consequences of fanatical belief. to an english mind they reinforce the conviction upon which english life has been based ever since , that kindliness and tolerance are worth all the creeds in the world--a view which, it is true, we do not apply to other nations or to subject races. in a very novel society it is natural to seek for historical parallels. the baser side of the present russian government is most nearly paralleled by the directoire in france, but on its better side it is closely analogous to the rule of cromwell. the sincere communists (and all the older members of the party have proved their sincerity by years of persecution) are not unlike the puritan soldiers in their stern politico-moral purpose. cromwell's dealings with parliament are not unlike lenin's with the constituent assembly. both, starting from a combination of democracy and religious faith, were driven to sacrifice democracy to religion enforced by military dictatorship. both tried to compel their countries to live at a higher level of morality and effort than the population found tolerable. life in modern russia, as in puritan england, is in many ways contrary to instinct. and if the bolsheviks ultimately fall, it will be for the reason for which the puritans fell: because there comes a point at which men feel that amusement and ease are worth more than all other goods put together. far closer than any actual historical parallel is the parallel of plato's republic. the communist party corresponds to the guardians; the soldiers have about the same status in both; there is in russia an attempt to deal with family life more or less as plato suggested. i suppose it may be assumed that every teacher of plato throughout the world abhors bolshevism, and that every bolshevik regards plato as an antiquated _bourgeois_. nevertheless, the parallel is extraordinarily exact between plato's republic and the régime which the better bolsheviks are endeavouring to create. bolshevism is internally aristocratic and externally militant. the communists in many ways resemble the british public-school type: they have all the good and bad traits of an aristocracy which is young and vital. they are courageous, energetic, capable of command, always ready to serve the state; on the other hand, they are dictatorial, lacking in ordinary consideration for the plebs. they are practically the sole possessors of power, and they enjoy innumerable advantages in consequence. most of them, though far from luxurious, have better food than other people. only people of some political importance can obtain motor-cars or telephones. permits for railway journeys, for making purchases at the soviet stores (where prices are about one-fiftieth of what they are in the market), for going to the theatre, and so on, are, of course, easier to obtain for the friends of those in power than for ordinary mortals. in a thousand ways, the communists have a life which is happier than that of the rest of the community. above all, they are less exposed to the unwelcome attentions of the police and the extraordinary commission. the communist theory of international affairs is exceedingly simple. the revolution foretold by marx, which is to abolish capitalism throughout the world, happened to begin in russia, though marxian theory would seem to demand that it should begin in america. in countries where the revolution has not yet broken out, the sole duty of a communist is to hasten its advent. agreements with capitalist states can only be make-shifts, and can never amount on either side to a sincere peace. no real good can come to any country without a bloody revolution: english labour men may fancy that a peaceful evolution is possible, but they will find their mistake. lenin told me that he hopes to see a labour government in england, and would wish his supporters to work for it, but solely in order that the futility of parliamentarism may be conclusively demonstrated to the british working man. nothing will do any real good except the arming of the proletariat and the disarming of the _bourgeoisie_. those who preach anything else are social traitors or deluded fools. for my part, after weighing this theory carefully, and after admitting the whole of its indictment of _bourgeois_ capitalism, i find myself definitely and strongly opposed to it. the third international is an organization which exists to promote the class-war and to hasten the advent of revolution everywhere. my objection is not that capitalism is less bad than the bolsheviks believe, but that socialism is less good, not in its best form, but in the only form which is likely to be brought about by war. the evils of war, especially of civil war, are certain and very great; the gains to be achieved by victory are problematical. in the course of a desperate struggle, the heritage of civilization is likely to be lost, while hatred, suspicion, and cruelty become normal in the relations of human beings. in order to succeed in war, a concentration of power is necessary, and from concentration of power the very same evils flow as from the capitalist concentration of wealth. for these reasons chiefly, i cannot support any movement which aims at world revolution. the damage to civilization done by revolution in one country may be repaired by the influence of another in which there has been no revolution; but in a universal cataclysm civilization might go under for a thousand years. but while i cannot advocate world revolution, i cannot escape from the conclusion that the governments of the leading capitalist countries are doing everything to bring it about. abuse of our power against germany, russia, and india (to say nothing of any other countries) may well bring about our downfall, and produce those very evils which the enemies of bolshevism most dread. the true communist is thoroughly international. lenin, for example, so far as i could judge, is not more concerned with the interests of russia than with those of other countries; russia is, at the moment, the protagonist of the social revolution, and, as such, valuable to the world, but lenin would sacrifice russia rather than the revolution, if the alternative should ever arise. this is the orthodox attitude, and is no doubt genuine in many of the leaders. but nationalism is natural and instinctive; through pride in the revolution, it grows again even in the breasts of communists. through the polish war, the bolsheviks have acquired the support of national feeling, and their position in the country has been immensely strengthened. the only time i saw trotsky was at the opera in moscow. the british labour delegation were occupying what had been the tsar's box. after speaking with us in the ante-chamber, he stepped to the front of the box and stood with folded arms while the house cheered itself hoarse. then he spoke a few sentences, short and sharp, with military precision, winding up by calling for "three cheers for our brave fellows at the front," to which the audience responded as a london audience would have responded in the autumn of . trotsky and the red army undoubtedly now have behind them a great body of nationalist sentiment. the reconquest of asiatic russia has even revived what is essentially an imperialist way of feeling, though this would be indignantly repudiated by many of those in whom i seemed to detect it. experience of power is inevitably altering communist theories, and men who control a vast governmental machine can hardly have quite the same outlook on life as they had when they were hunted fugitives. if the bolsheviks remain in power, it is much to be feared that their communism will fade, and that they will increasingly resemble any other asiatic government--for example, our own government in india. footnotes: [ ] see the article "on the rôle of the communist party in the proletarian revolution," in _theses presented to the second congress of the communist international, petrograd-moscow, july, _--a valuable work which i possess only in french. iii lenin, trotsky and gorky soon after my arrival in moscow i had an hour's conversation with lenin in english, which he speaks fairly well. an interpreter was present, but his services were scarcely required. lenin's room is very bare; it contains a big desk, some maps on the walls, two book-cases, and one comfortable chair for visitors in addition to two or three hard chairs. it is obvious that he has no love of luxury or even comfort. he is very friendly, and apparently simple, entirely without a trace of _hauteur_. if one met him without knowing who he was, one would not guess that he is possessed of great power or even that he is in any way eminent. i have never met a personage so destitute of self-importance. he looks at his visitors very closely, and screws up one eye, which seems to increase alarmingly the penetrating power of the other. he laughs a great deal; at first his laugh seems merely friendly and jolly, but gradually i came to feel it rather grim. he is dictatorial, calm, incapable of fear, extraordinarily devoid of self-seeking, an embodied theory. the materialist conception of history, one feels, is his life-blood. he resembles a professor in his desire to have the theory understood and in his fury with those who misunderstand or disagree, as also in his love of expounding, i got the impression that he despises a great many people and is an intellectual aristocrat. the first question i asked him was as to how far he recognized the peculiarity of english economic and political conditions? i was anxious to know whether advocacy of violent revolution is an indispensable condition of joining the third international, although i did not put this question directly because others were asking it officially. his answer was unsatisfactory to me. he admitted that there is little chance of revolution in england now, and that the working man is not yet disgusted with parliamentary government. but he hopes that this result may be brought about by a labour ministry. he thinks that, if mr. henderson, for instance, were to become prime minister, nothing of importance would be done; organized labour would then, so he hopes and believes, turn to revolution. on this ground, he wishes his supporters in this country to do everything in their power to secure a labour majority in parliament; he does not advocate abstention from parliamentary contests, but participation with a view to making parliament obviously contemptible. the reasons which make attempts at violent revolution seem to most of us both improbable and undesirable in this country carry no weight with him, and seem to him mere _bourgeois_ prejudices. when i suggested that whatever is possible in england can be achieved without bloodshed, he waved aside the suggestion as fantastic. i got little impression of knowledge or psychological imagination as regards great britain. indeed the whole tendency of marxianism is against psychological imagination, since it attributes everything in politics to purely material causes. i asked him next whether he thought it possible to establish communism firmly and fully in a country containing such a large majority of peasants. he admitted that it was difficult, and laughed over the exchange the peasant is compelled to make, of food for paper; the worthlessness of russian paper struck him as comic. but he said--what is no doubt true--that things will right themselves when there are goods to offer to the peasant. for this he looks partly to electrification in industry, which, he says, is a technical necessity in russia, but will take ten years to complete.[ ] he spoke with enthusiasm, as they all do, of the great scheme for generating electrical power by means of peat. of course he looks to the raising of the blockade as the only radical cure; but he was not very hopeful of this being achieved thoroughly or permanently except through revolutions in other countries. peace between bolshevik russia and capitalist countries, he said, must always be insecure; the entente might be led by weariness and mutual dissensions to conclude peace, but he felt convinced that the peace would be of brief duration. i found in him, as in almost all leading communists, much less eagerness than existed in our delegation for peace and the raising of the blockade. he believes that nothing of real value can be achieved except through world revolution and the abolition of capitalism; i felt that he regarded the resumption of trade with capitalist countries as a mere palliative of doubtful value. he described the division between rich and poor peasants, and the government propaganda among the latter against the former, leading to acts of violence which he seemed to find amusing. he spoke as though the dictatorship over the peasant would have to continue a long time, because of the peasant's desire for free trade. he said he knew from statistics (what i can well believe) that the peasants have had more to eat these last two years than they ever had before, "and yet they are against us," he added a little wistfully. i asked him what to reply to critics who say that in the country he has merely created peasant proprietorship, not communism; he replied that that is not quite the truth, but he did not say what the truth is.[ ] the last question i asked him was whether resumption of trade with capitalist countries, if it took place, would not create centres of capitalist influence, and make the preservation of communism more difficult? it had seemed to me that the more ardent communists might well dread commercial intercourse with the outer world, as leading to an infiltration of heresy, and making the rigidity of the present system almost impossible. i wished to know whether he had such a feeling. he admitted that trade would create difficulties, but said they would be less than those of the war. he said that two years ago neither he nor his colleagues thought they could survive against the hostility of the world. he attributes their survival to the jealousies and divergent interests of the different capitalist nations; also to the power of bolshevik propaganda. he said the germans had laughed when the bolsheviks proposed to combat guns with leaflets, but that the event had proved the leaflets quite as powerful. i do not think he recognizes that the labour and socialist parties have had any part in the matter. he does not seem to know that the attitude of british labour has done a great deal to make a first-class war against russia impossible, since it has confined the government to what could be done in a hole-and-corner way, and denied without a too blatant mendacity. he thoroughly enjoys the attacks of lord northcliffe, to whom he wishes to send a medal for bolshevik propaganda. accusations of spoliation, he remarked, may shock the _bourgeois_, but have an opposite effect upon the proletarian. i think if i had met him without knowing who he was, i should not have guessed that he was a great man; he struck me as too opinionated and narrowly orthodox. his strength comes, i imagine, from his honesty, courage, and unwavering faith--religious faith in the marxian gospel, which takes the place of the christian martyr's hopes of paradise, except that it is less egotistical. he has as little love of liberty as the christians who suffered under diocletian, and retaliated when they acquired power. perhaps love of liberty is incompatible with whole-hearted belief in a panacea for all human ills. if so, i cannot but rejoice in the sceptical temper of the western world. i went to russia a communist; but contact with those who have no doubts has intensified a thousandfold my own doubts, not as to communism in itself, but as to the wisdom of holding a creed so firmly that for its sake men are willing to inflict widespread misery. trotsky, whom the communists do not by any means regard as lenin's equal, made more impression upon me from the point of view of intelligence and personality, though not of character. i saw too little of him, however, to have more than a very superficial impression. he has bright eyes, military bearing, lightning intelligence and magnetic personality. he is very good-looking, with admirable wavy hair; one feels he would be irresistible to women. i felt in him a vein of gay good humour, so long as he was not crossed in any way. i thought, perhaps wrongly, that his vanity was even greater than his love of power--the sort of vanity that one associates with an artist or actor. the comparison with napoleon was forced upon one. but i had no means of estimating the strength of his communist conviction, which may be very sincere and profound. an extraordinary contrast to both these men was gorky, with whom i had a brief interview in petrograd. he was in bed, apparently very ill and obviously heart-broken. he begged me, in anything i might say about russia, always to emphasize what russia has suffered. he supports the government--as i should do, if i were a russian--not because he thinks it faultless, but because the possible alternatives are worse. one felt in him a love of the russian people which makes their present martyrdom almost unbearable, and prevents the fanatical faith by which the pure marxians are upheld. i felt him the most lovable, and to me the most sympathetic, of all the russians i saw. i wished for more knowledge of his outlook, but he spoke with difficulty and was constantly interrupted by terrible fits of coughing, so that i could not stay. all the intellectuals whom i met--a class who have suffered terribly--expressed their gratitude to him for what he has done on their behalf. the materialistic conception of history is all very well, but some care for the higher things of civilization is a relief. the bolsheviks are sometimes said to have done great things for art, but i could not discover that they had done more than preserve something of what existed before. when i questioned one of them on the subject, he grew impatient, and said: "we haven't time for a new art, any more than for a new religion." unavoidably, although the government favours art as much as it can, the atmosphere is one in which art cannot flourish, because art is anarchic and resistant to organization. gorky has done all that one man could to preserve the intellectual and artistic life of russia. i feared that he was dying, and that, perhaps, it was dying too. but he recovered, and i hope it will recover also. footnotes: [ ] electrification is desired not merely for reorganizing industry, but in order to industrialize agriculture. in _theses presented to the second congress of the communist international_ (an instructive little book, which i shall quote as _theses_), it is said in an article on the agrarian question that socialism will not be secure till industry is reorganized on a new basis with "general application of electric energy in all branches of agriculture and rural economy," which "alone can give to the towns the possibility of offering to backward rural districts a technical and social aid capable of determining an extraordinary increase of productivity of agricultural and rural labour, and of engaging the small cultivators, in their own interest, to pass progressively to a collectivist mechanical cultivation" (p. of french edition). [ ] in _theses_ (p. ) it is said: "it would be an irreparable error ... not to admit the gratuitous grant of part of the expropriated lands to poor and even well-to-do peasants." iv art and education it has often been said that, whatever the inadequacy of bolshevik organization in other fields, in art and in education at least they have made great progress. to take first of all art: it is true that they began by recognizing, as perhaps no other revolutionary government would, the importance and spontaneity of the artistic impulse, and therefore while they controlled or destroyed the counter-revolutionary in all other social activities, they allowed the artist, whatever his political creed, complete freedom to continue his work. moreover, as regards clothing and rations they treated him especially well. this, and the care devoted to the upkeep of churches, public monuments, and museums, are well-known facts, to which there has already been ample testimony. the preservation of the old artistic community practically intact was the more remarkable in view of the pronounced sympathy of most of them with the old régime. the theory, however, was that art and politics belonged to two separate realms; but great honour would of course be the portion of those artists who would be inspired by the revolution. three years' experience, however, have proved the falsity of this doctrine and led to a divorce between art and popular feeling which a sensitive observer cannot fail to remark. it is glaringly apparent in the hitherto most vital of all russian arts, the theatre. the artists have continued to perform the old classics in tragedy or comedy, and the old-style operette. the theatre programmes have remained the same for the last two years, and, but for the higher standard of artistic performance, might belong to the theatres of paris or london. as one sits in the theatre, one is so acutely conscious of the discrepancy between the daily life of the audience and that depicted in the play that the latter seems utterly dead and meaningless. to some of the more fiery communists it appears that a mistake has been made. they complain that _bourgeois_ art is being preserved long after its time, they accuse the artists of showing contempt for their public, of being as untouched by the revolutionary mood as an elderly _bourgeoise_ bewailing the loss of her personal comfort; they would like to see only the revolutionary mood embodied in art, and to achieve this would make a clean sweep, enforcing the writing and performance of nothing but revolutionary plays and the painting of revolutionary pictures. nor can it be argued that they are wrong as to the facts: it is plain that the preservation of the old artistic tradition has served very little purpose; but on the other hand it is equally plain that an artist cannot be drilled like a military recruit. there is, fortunately, no sign that these tactics will be directly adopted, but in an indirect fashion they are already being applied. an artist is not to blame if his temperament leads him to draw cartoons of leading bolsheviks, or satirize the various comical aspects--and they are many--of the soviet régime. to force such a man, however, to turn his talent only against denikin, yudenitch and kolchak, or the leaders of the entente, is momentarily good for communism, but it is discouraging to the artist, and may prove in the long run bad for art, and possibly for communism also. it is plain from the religious nature of communism in russia, that such controlling of the impulse to artistic creation is inevitable, and that propaganda art alone can flourish in such an atmosphere. for example, no poetry or literature that is not orthodox will reach the printing press. it is so easy to make the excuse of lack of paper and the urgent need for manifestoes. thus there may well come to be a repetition of the attitude of the mediæval church to the sagas and legends of the people, except that, in this case, it is the folk tales which will be preserved, and the more sensitive and civilized products banned. the only poet who seems to be much spoken of at present in russia is one who writes rough popular songs. there are revolutionary odes, but one may hazard a guess that they resemble our patriotic war poetry. i said that this state of affairs may in the long run be bad for art, but the contrary may equally well prove to be the truth. it is of course discouraging and paralysing to the old-style artist, and it is death to the old individual art which depended on subtlety and oddity of temperament, and arose very largely from the complicated psychology of the idle. there it stands, this old art, the purest monument to the nullity of the art-for-art's-sake doctrine, like a rich exotic plant of exquisite beauty, still apparently in its glory, till one perceives that the roots are cut, and that leaf by leaf it is gradually fading away. but, unlike the puritans in this respect, the bolsheviks have not sought to dig up the roots, and there are signs that the paralysis is merely temporary. moreover, individual art is not the only form, and in particular the plastic arts have shown that they can live by mass action, and flourish under an intolerant faith. communist artists of the future may erect public buildings surpassing in beauty the mediæval churches, they may paint frescoes, organize pageants, make homeric songs about their heroes. communist art will begin, and is beginning now, in the propaganda pictures, and stories such as those designed for peasants and children. there is, for instance, a kind of rake's progress or "how she became a communist," in which the entente leaders make a sorry and grotesque appearance. lenin and trotsky already figure in woodcuts as moses and aaron, deliverers of their people, while the mother and child who illustrate the statistics of the maternity exhibition have the grace and beauty of mediæval madonnas. russia is only now emerging from the middle ages, and the church tradition in painting is passing with incredible smoothness into the service of communist doctrine. these pictures have, too, an oriental flavour: there are brown madonnas in the russian churches, and such an one illustrates the statistics of infant mortality in india, while the russian mother, broad-footed, in gay petticoat and kerchief, sits in a starry meadow suckling her baby from a very ample white breast. i think that this movement towards the church tradition may be unconscious and instinctive, and would perhaps be deplored by many communists, for whom grandiose bad rodin statuary and the crudity of cubism better express what they mean by revolution. but this revolution is russian and not french, and its art, if all goes well, should inevitably bear the popular russian stamp. it is would-be primitive and popular art that is vulgar. such at least is the reflection engendered by an inspection of russian peasant work as compared with the spirit of _children's tales_. the russian peasant's artistic impulse is no legend. besides the carving and embroidery which speak eloquently to peasant skill, one observes many instances in daily life. he will climb down, when his slowly-moving train stops by the wayside, to gather branches and flowers with which he will decorate the railway carriage both inside and out, he will work willingly at any task which has beauty for its object, and was all too prone under the old régime to waste his time and his employer's material in fashioning small metal or wooden objects with his hands. if the _bourgeois_ tradition then will not serve, there is a popular tradition which is still live and passionate and which may perhaps persist. unhappily it has a formidable enemy in the organization and development of industry, which is far more dangerous to art than communist doctrine. indeed, industry in its early stages seems everywhere doomed to be the enemy of beauty and instinctive life. one might hope that this would not prove to be so in russia, the first socialist state, as yet unindustrial, able to draw on the industrial experience of the whole world, were it not that one discovers with a certain misgiving in the bolshevik leaders the rasping arid temperament of those to whom the industrial machine is an end in itself, and, in addition, reflects that these industrially minded men have as yet no practical experience, nor do there exist men of goodwill to help them. it does not seem reasonable to hope that russia can pass through the period of industrialization without a good deal of mismanagement, involving waste resulting in too long hours, child labour and other evils with which the west is all too familiar. what the bolsheviks would not therefore willingly do to art, the juggernaut which they are bent on setting in motion may accomplish for them. the next generation in russia will have to consist of practical hard-working men, the old-style artists will die off and successors will not readily arise. a state which is struggling with economic difficulties is bound to be slow to admit an artistic vocation, since this involves exemption from practical work. moreover the majority of minds always turn instinctively to the real need of the moment. a man therefore who is adapted by talent and temperament to becoming an opera singer, will under the pressure of communist enthusiasm and government encouragement turn his attention to economics. (i am here quoting an actual instance.) the whole russian people at this stage in their development strike one as being forced by the logic of their situation to make a similar choice. it may be all to the good that there should be fewer professional artists, since some of the finest work has been done by men and groups of men to whom artistic expression was only a pastime. they were not hampered by the solemnity and reverence for art which too often destroy the spontaneity of the professional. indeed a revival of this attitude to art is one of the good results which may be hoped for from a communist revolution in a more advanced industrial community. there the problem of education will be to stimulate the creative impulses towards art and science so that men may know how to employ their leisure hours. work in the factory can never be made to provide an adequate outlet. the only hope, if men are to remain human beings under industrialism, is to reduce hours to the minimum. but this is only possible when production and organization are highly efficient, which will not be the case for a long time in russia. hence not only does it appear that the number of artists will grow less, but that the number of people undamaged in their artistic impulses and on that account able to create or appreciate as amateurs is likely to be deplorably small. it is in this damaging effect of industry on human instinct that the immediate danger to art in russia lies. the effect of industry on the crafts is quite obvious. a craftsman who is accustomed to work with his hands, following the tradition developed by his ancestors, is useless when brought face to face with a machine. and the man who can handle the machine will only be concerned with quantity and utility in the first instance. only gradually do the claims of beauty come to be recognized. compare the modern motor car with the first of its species, or even, since the same law seems to operate in nature, the prehistoric animal with its modern descendant. the same relation exists between them as between man and the ape, or the horse and the hipparion. the movement of life seems to be towards ever greater delicacy and complexity, and man carries it forward in the articles that he makes and the society that he develops. industry is a new tool, difficult to handle, but it will produce just as beautiful objects as did the mediæval builder and craftsman, though not until it has been in being for a long time and belongs to tradition. one may expect, therefore, that while the crafts in russia will lose in artistic value, the drama, sculpture and painting and all those arts which have nothing to do with the machine and depend entirely upon mental and spiritual inspiration will receive an impetus from the communist faith. whether the flowering period will be long or short depends partly on the political situation, but chiefly on the rapidity of industrial development. it may be that the machine will ultimately conquer the communist faith and grind out the human impulses, and russia become during this transition period as inartistic and soulless as was america until quite recent years. one would like to hope that mechanical progress will be swift and social idealism sufficiently strong to retain control. but the practical difficulties are almost insuperable. such signs of the progress of art as it is possible to notice at this early stage would seem to bear out the above argument. for instance, an attempt is being made to foster the continuation of peasant embroidery, carving, &c., in the towns. it is done by people who have evidently lost the tradition already. they are taught to copy the models which are placed in the peasant museum, but there is no comparison between the live little wooden lady who smiles beneath the glass case, and the soulless staring-eyed creature who is offered for sale, nor between the quite ordinary carved fowl one may buy and the amusing life-like figure one may merely gaze at. but when one comes to art directly inspired by communism it is a different story. apart from the propaganda pictures already referred to, there are propaganda plays performed by the red army in its spare moments, and there are the mass pageant plays performed on state occasions. i had the good fortune to witness one of each kind. the play was called _zarevo_ (the dawn), and was performed on a saturday night on a small stage in a small hall in an entirely amateur fashion. it represented russian life just before the revolution. it was intense and tragic and passionately acted. dramatic talent is not rare in russia. almost the only comic relief was provided by the tsarist police, who made one appearance towards the end, got up like comic military characters in a musical comedy--just as, in mediæval miracle plays, the comic character was satan. the play's intention was to show a typical russian working-class family. there were the old father, constantly drunk on vodka, alternately maudlin and scolding; the old mother; two sons, the one a communist and the other an anarchist; the wife of the communist, who did dressmaking; her sister, a prostitute; and a young girl of _bourgeois_ family, also a communist, involved in a plot with the communist son, who was of course the hero of the play. the first act revealed the stern and heroic communist maintaining his views despite the reproaches of father and mother and the nagging of his wife. it showed also the anarchist brother (as might be expected from the bolshevik hostility to anarchism) as an unruly, lazy, ne'er-do-well, with a passionate love for sonia, the young _bourgeoise_, which was likely to become dangerous if not returned. she, on the other hand, obviously preferred the communist. it was clear that he returned her love, but it was not quite clear that he would wish the relation to be anything more than platonic comradeship in the service of their common ideal. an unsuccessful strike, bringing want and danger from the police, together with increasing jealousy on the part of the anarchist, led up to the tragic dénouement. i was not quite definite as to how this was brought about. all violent action was performed off the stage, and this made the plot at times difficult to follow. but it seemed that the anarchist in a jealous rage forged a letter from his brother to bring sonia to a rendezvous, and there murdered her, at the same time betraying his brother to the police. when the latter came to effect his arrest, and accuse him also, as the most likely person, of the murder, the anarchist was seized with remorse and confessed. both were therefore led away together. once the plot is sketched, the play calls for no comment. it had not great merit, though it is unwise to hazard a judgment on a play whose dialogue was not fully interpreted, but it was certainly real, and the link between audience and performers was established as it never seemed to be in the professional theatre. after the performance, the floor was cleared for dancing, and the audience were in a mood of thorough enjoyment. the pageant of the "world commune," which was performed at the opening of the third international congress in petrograd, was a still more important and significant phenomenon. i do not suppose that anything of the kind has been staged since the days of the mediæval mystery plays. it was, in fact, a mystery play designed by the high priests of the communist faith to instruct the people. it was played on the steps of an immense white building that was once the stock exchange, a building with a classical colonnade on three sides of it, with a vast flight of steps in front, that did not extend the whole width of the building but left at each side a platform that was level with the floor of the colonnade. in front of this building a wide road ran from a bridge over one arm of the river to a bridge over the other, so that the stretches of water and sky on either side seemed to the eye of imagination like the painted wings of a gigantic stage. two battered red columns of fantastic design, that were once light towers to guide ships, stood on either side midway between the extremities of the building and the water, but on the opposite side of the road. these two towers were beflagged and illuminated and carried the limelight, and between and behind them was gathered a densely packed audience of forty or fifty thousand people. the play began at sundown, while the sky was still red away to the right and the palaces on the far bank to the left still aglow with the setting sun, and it continued under the magic of the darkening sky. at first the beauty and grandeur of the setting drew the attention away from the performers, but gradually one became aware that on the platform before the columns kings and queens and courtiers in sumptuous conventional robes, and attended by soldiers, were conversing in dumb show with one another. a few climbed the steps of a small wooden platform that was set up in the middle, and one indicated by a lifted hand that here should be built a monument to the power of capitalism over the earth. all gave signs of delight. sentimental music was heard, and the gay company fell to waltzing away the hours. meanwhile, from below on the road level, there streamed out of the darkness on either side of the building and up the half-lit steps, their fetters ringing in harmony with the music, the enslaved and toiling masses coming in response to command to build the monument for their masters. it is impossible to describe the exquisite beauty of the slow movement of those dark figures aslant the broad flight of steps; individual expressions were of course indistinguishable, and yet the movement and attitude of the groups conveyed pathos and patient endurance as well as any individual speech or gesture in the ordinary theatre. some groups carried hammer and anvil, and others staggered under enormous blocks of stone. love for the ballet has perhaps made the russians understand the art of moving groups of actors in unison. as i watched these processions climbing the steps in apparently careless and spontaneous fashion, and yet producing so graceful a result, i remembered the mad leap of the archers down the stage in _prince igor_, which is also apparently careless and spontaneous and full of wild and irregular beauty, yet never varies a hair-breadth from one performance to the next. for a time the workers toiled in the shadow in their earthly world, and dancing continued in the lighted paradise of the rulers above, until presently, in sign that the monument was complete, a large yellow disc was hoisted amid acclamation above the highest platform between the columns. but at the same moment a banner was uplifted amongst the people, and a small figure was seen gesticulating. angry fists were shaken and the banner and speaker disappeared, only to reappear almost immediately in another part of the dense crowd. again hostility, until finally among the french workers away up on the right, the first communist manifesto found favour. rallying around their banner the _communards_ ran shouting down the steps, gathering supporters as they came. above, all is confusion, kings and queens scuttling in unroyal fashion with flying velvet robes to safe citadels right and left, while the army prepares to defend the main citadel of capitalism with its golden disc of power. the _communards_ scale the steps to the fortress which they finally capture, haul down the disc and set their banner in its place. the merry music of the _carmagnole_ is heard, and the victors are seen expressing their delight by dancing first on one foot and then on the other, like marionettes. below, the masses dance with them in a frenzy of joy. but a pompous procession of prussian legions is seen approaching, and, amid shrieks and wails of despair, the people are driven back, and their leaders set in a row and shot. thereafter came one of the most moving scenes in the drama. several dark-clad women appeared carrying a black pall supported on sticks, which they set in front of the bodies of the leaders so that it stood out, an irregular pointed black shape against the white columns behind. but for this melancholy monument the stage was now empty. thick clouds of black smoke arose from braziers on either side and obscured the steps and the platform. through the smoke came the distant sound of chopin's _marche funèbre_, and as the air became clearer white figures could be dimly seen moving around the black pall in a solemn dance of mourning. behind them the columns shone ghostly and unreal against the glimmering mauve rays of an uncertain and watery dawn. the second part of the pageant opened in july . once again the rulers were feasting and the workers at toil, but the scene was enlivened by the presence of the leaders of the second international, a group of decrepit professorial old men, who waddled in in solemn procession carrying tomes full of international learning. they sat in a row between the rulers and the people, deep in study, spectacles on nose. the call to war was the signal for a dramatic appeal from the workers to these leaders, who refused to accept the red flag, but weakly received patriotic flags from their respective governments. jaurès, elevated to be the symbol of protest, towered above the people, crying in a loud voice, but fell back immediately as the assassin's shot rang out. then the people divided into their national groups and the war began. it was at this point that "god save the king" was played as the english soldiers marched out, in a comic manner which made one think of it as "_gawd_ save the king." other national anthems were burlesqued in a similar fashion, but none quite so successfully. a ridiculous effigy of the tsar with a knout in his hand now occupied the symbolic position and dominated the scene. the incidents of the war which affected russia were then played. spectacular cavalry charges on the road, marching soldiers, batteries of artillery, a pathetic procession of cripples and nurses, and other scenes too numerous to describe, made up that part of the pageant devoted to the war. then came the russian revolution in all its stages. cars dashed by full of armed men, red flags appeared everywhere, the people stormed the citadel and hauled down the effigy of the tsar. the kerensky government assumed control and drove them forth to war again, but soon they returned to the charge, destroyed the provisional government, and hoisted all the emblems of the russian soviet republic. the entente leaders, however, were seen preparing their troops for battle, and the pageant went on to show the formation of the red army under its emblem the red star. white figures with golden trumpets appeared foretelling victory for the proletariat. the last scene, the world commune, is described in the words of the abstract, taken from a russian newspaper, as follows:-- cannon shots announce the breaking of the blockade against soviet russia, and the victory of the world proletariat. the red army returns from the front, and passes in triumphant review before the leaders of the revolution. at their feet lie the crowns of kings and the gold of the bankers. ships draped with flags are seen carrying workers from the west. the workers of the whole world, with the emblems of labour, gather for the celebration of the world commune. in the heavens luminous inscriptions in different languages appear, greeting the congress: "long live the third international! workers of the world, unite! triumph to the sounds of the hymn of the world commune, the 'international'." even so glowing an account, however, hardly does it justice. it had the pomp and majesty of the day of judgment itself. rockets climbed the skies and peppered them with a thousand stars, fireworks blazed on all sides, garlanded and beflagged ships moved up and down the river, chariots bearing the emblems of prosperity, grapes and corn, travelled slowly along the road. the eastern peoples came carrying gifts and emblems. the actors, massed upon the steps, waved triumphant hands, trumpets sounded, and the song of the international from ten thousand throats rose like a mighty wave engulfing the whole. though the end of this drama may have erred on the side of the grandiose, this may perhaps be forgiven the organizers in view of the occasion for which they prepared it. nothing, however, could detract from the beauty and dramatic power of the opening and of many of the scenes. moreover, the effects obtained by movement in the mass were almost intoxicating. the first entrance of the masses gave a sense of dumb and patient force that was moving in the extreme, and the frenzied delight of the dancing crowd at the victory of the french _communards_ stirred one to ecstasy. the pageant lasted for five hours or more, and was as exhausting emotionally as the passion play is said to be. i had the vision of a great period of communist art, more especially of such open-air spectacles, which should have the grandeur and scope and eternal meaning of the plays of ancient greece, the mediæval mysteries, or the shakespearean theatre. in building, writing, acting, even in painting, work would be done, as it once was, by groups, not by one hand or mind, and evolution would proceed slowly until once again the individual emerged from the mass. in considering education under the bolshevik régime, the same two factors which i have already dealt with in discussing art, namely industrial development and the communist doctrine, must be taken into account. industrial development is in reality one of the tenets of communism, but as it is one which in russia is likely to endanger the doctrine as a whole i have thought it better to consider it as a separate item. as in the matter of art, so in education, those who have given unqualified praise seem to have taken the short and superficial view. it is hardly necessary to launch into descriptions of the crèches, country homes or palaces for children, where montessori methods prevail, where the pupils cultivate their little gardens, model in plasticine, draw and sing and act, and dance their eurythmic dances barefoot on floors once sacred to the tread of the nobility. i saw a reception and distributing house in petrograd with which no fault could be found from the point of view of scientific organization. the children were bright-eyed and merry, and the rooms airy and clean. i saw, too, a performance by school children in moscow which included some quite wonderful eurythmic dancing, in particular an interpretation of grieg's _tanz in der halle des bergkönigs_ by the dalcroze method, but with a colour and warmth which were russian, and in odd contrast to the mathematical precision associated with most dalcroze performances. but in spite of the obvious merit of such institutions as exist, misgivings would arise. to begin with, it must be remembered that it is necessary first to admit that children should be delivered up almost entirely to the state. nominally, the mother still comes to see her child in these schools, but in actual fact, the drafting of children to the country must intervene, and the whole temper of the authorities seemed to be directed towards breaking the link between mother and child. to some this will seem an advantage, and it is a point which admits of lengthy discussion, but as it belongs rather to the question of women and the family under communism, i can do no more than mention it here. then, again, it must be remembered that the tactics of the bolsheviks towards such schools as existed under the old régime in provincial towns and villages, have not been the same as their tactics towards the theatres. the greater number of these schools are closed, in part, it would seem, from lack of personnel, and in part from fear of counter-revolutionary propaganda. the result is that, though those schools which they have created are good and organized on modern lines, on the whole there would seem to be less diffusion of child education than before. in this, as in most other departments, the bolsheviks show themselves loath to attempt anything which cannot be done on a large scale and impregnated with communist doctrine. it goes without saying that communist doctrine is taught in schools, as christianity has been taught hitherto, moreover the communist teachers show bitter hostility to other teachers who do not accept the doctrine. at the children's entertainment alluded to above, the dances and poems performed had nearly all some close relation to communism, and a teacher addressed the children for something like an hour and a half on the duties of communists and the errors of anarchism. this teaching of communism, however necessary it may appear for the building of the communist state of the future, does seem to me to be an evil in that it is done emotionally and fanatically, with an appeal to hate and militant ardour rather than to constructive reason. it binds the free intellect and destroys initiative. an industrial state needs not only obedient and patient workers and artists, it needs also men and women with initiative in scientific research. it is idle to provide channels for scientific research later if it is to be choked at the source. that source is an enquiring and free intellect unhampered by iron dogma. beneficial to artistic and emotional development therefore, the teaching of communism as a faith may well be most pernicious to the scientific and intellectual side of education, and will lead direct to the pragmatist view of knowledge and scientific research which the church and the capitalist already find it so convenient to adopt. but to come to the chief and most practical question, the relation of education to industry. sooner or later education in russia must become subordinate to the needs of industrial development. that the bolsheviks already realize this is proved by the articles of lunacharsky which recently appeared in _le phare_ (geneva). it was the spectre of industry that haunted me throughout the consideration of education as in the consideration of art, and what i have said above of its dangers to the latter seems to me also to apply here. montessori schools belong, in my view, to that stage in industrial development when education is directed as much towards leisure occupations as towards preparation for professional life. possibly the fine flower of useless scientific enquiry belongs to this stage also. nobody in russia is likely to have much leisure for a good many years to come, if the bolshevik programme of industrial development is efficiently carried out. and there seemed to me to be something pathetic and almost cruel in this varied and agreeable education of the child, when one reflected on the long hours of grinding toil to which he was soon to be subject in workshop or factory. for i repeat that i do not believe industrial work in the early days of industry can be made tolerable to the worker. once again i experienced the dread of seeing the ideals of the russian revolutionaries go down before the logic of necessity. they are beginning to pride themselves on being hard, practical men, and it seems quite reasonable to fear that they should come to regard this full and humane development of the child as a mere luxury and ultimately neglect it. worse still, the few of these schools which already exist may perhaps become exclusive to the communists and their children, or that company of samurai which is to leaven and govern the mass of the people. if so, they will soon come to resemble our public schools, in that they will prepare, in an artificial play atmosphere, men who will pass straight to the position of leaders, while the portion of the proletariat who serve under them will be reading and writing, just so much technical training as is necessary, and communist doctrine. this is a nightmare hypothesis, but the difficulties of the practical problem seem to warrant its entertainment. the number of people in russia who can even read and write is extremely small, the need to get them employed industrially as rapidly as possible is very great, hence the system of education which develops out of this situation cannot be very ambitious or enlightened. further it will have to continue over a sufficiently long period of time to allow of the risk of its becoming stable and traditional. in adult education already the pupil comes for a short period, learns communism, reading and writing--there is hardly time to give him much more--and returns to leaven the army or his native village. in achieving this the bolsheviks are already doing a very important and valuable work, but they cannot hope for a long while to become the model of public instruction which they have hitherto been represented to be. and the conditions of their becoming so ultimately are adherence to their ideals through a very long period of stress, and a lessening of fanaticism in their communist teaching, conditions which, unhappily, seem to be mutually incompatible. the whole of the argument set out in this chapter may be summed up in the statement of one fact which the mere idealist is prone to overlook, namely that russia is a country at a stage in economic development not much more advanced than america in the pioneer days. the old civilization was aristocratic and exotic; it could not survive in the modern world. it is true that it produced great men, but its foundations were rotten. the new civilization may, for the moment, be less productive of individual works of genius, but it has a new solidity and gives promise of a new unity. it may be that i have taken too hopeful a view and that the future evolution of russia will have as little connection with the life and tradition of its present population as modern america with the life of the red indian tribes. the fact that there exists in russia a population at a far higher stage of culture, which will be industrially educated, not exterminated, militates against this hypothesis, but the need for education may make progress slower than it was in the united states. one would not have looked for the millennium of communism, nor even for valuable art and educational experiment in the america of early railroading and farming days. nor must one look for such things from russia yet. it may be that during the next hundred years there, economic evolution will obscure communist ideals, until finally, in a country that has reached the stage of present-day america, the battle will be fought out again to a victorious and stable issue. unless, indeed, the marxian scripture prove to be not infallible, and faith and heroic devotion show themselves capable of triumphing over economic necessity. v communism and the soviet constitution before i went to russia i imagined that i was going to see an interesting experiment in a new form of representative government. i did see an interesting experiment, but not in representative government. every one who is interested in bolshevism knows the series of elections, from the village meeting to the all-russian soviet, by which the people's commissaries are supposed to derive their power. we were told that, by the recall, the occupational constituencies, and so on, a new and far more perfect machinery had been devised for ascertaining and registering the popular will. one of the things we hoped to study was the question whether the soviet system is really superior to parliamentarism in this respect. we were not able to make any such study, because the soviet system is moribund.[ ] no conceivable system of free election would give majorities to the communists, either in town or country. various methods are therefore adopted for giving the victory to government candidates. in the first place, the voting is by show of hands, so that all who vote against the government are marked men. in the second place, no candidate who is not a communist can have any printing done, the printing works being all in the hands of the state. in the third place, he cannot address any meetings, because the halls all belong to the state. the whole of the press is, of course, official; no independent daily is permitted. in spite of all these obstacles, the mensheviks have succeeded in winning about seats out of , on the moscow soviet, by being known in certain large factories where the electoral campaign could be conducted by word of mouth. they won, in fact, every seat that they contested. but although the moscow soviet is nominally sovereign in moscow, it is really only a body of electors who choose the executive committee of forty, out of which, in turn, is chosen the presidium, consisting of nine men who have all the power. the moscow soviet, as a whole, meets rarely; the executive committee is supposed to meet once a week, but did not meet while we were in moscow. the presidium, on the contrary, meets daily. of course, it is easy for the government to exercise pressure over the election of the executive committee, and again over the election of the presidium. it must be remembered that effective protest is impossible, owing to the absolutely complete suppression of free speech and free press. the result is that the presidium of the moscow soviet consists only of orthodox communists. kamenev, the president of the moscow soviet, informed us that the recall is very frequently employed; he said that in moscow there are, on an average, thirty recalls a month. i asked him what were the principal reasons for the recall, and he mentioned four: drinking, going to the front (and being, therefore, incapable of performing the duties), change of politics on the part of the electors, and failure to make a report to the electors once a fortnight, which all members of the soviet are expected to do. it is evident that the recall affords opportunities for governmental pressure, but i had no chance of finding out whether it is used for this purpose. in country districts the method employed is somewhat different. it is impossible to secure that the village soviet shall consist of communists, because, as a rule, at any rate in the villages i saw, there are no communists. but when i asked in the villages how they were represented on the volost (the next larger area) or the gubernia, i was met always with the reply that they were not represented at all. i could not verify this, and it is probably an overstatement, but all concurred in the assertion that if they elected a non-communist representative he could not obtain a pass on the railway and, therefore, could not attend the volost or gubernia soviet. i saw a meeting of the gubernia soviet of saratov. the representation is so arranged that the town workers have an enormous preponderance over the surrounding peasants; but even allowing for this, the proportion of peasants seemed astonishingly small for the centre of a very important agricultural area. the all-russian soviet, which is constitutionally the supreme body, to which the people's commissaries are responsible, meets seldom, and has become increasingly formal. its sole function at present, so far as i could discover, is to ratify, without discussion, previous decisions of the communist party on matters (especially concerning foreign policy) upon which the constitution requires its decision. all real power is in the hands of the communist party, who number about , in a population of about millions. i never came across a communist by chance: the people whom i met in the streets or in the villages, when i could get into conversation with them, almost invariably said they were of no party. the only other answer i ever had was from some of the peasants, who openly stated that they were tsarists. it must be said that the peasants' reasons for disliking the bolsheviks are very inadequate. it is said--and all i saw confirmed the assertion--that the peasants are better off than they ever were before. i saw no one--man, woman, or child--who looked underfed in the villages. the big landowners are dispossessed, and the peasants have profited. but the towns and the army still need nourishing, and the government has nothing to give the peasants in return for food except paper, which the peasants resent having to take. it is a singular fact that tsarist roubles are worth ten times as much as soviet roubles, and are much commoner in the country. although they are illegal, pocket-books full of them are openly displayed in the market places. i do not think it should be inferred that the peasants expect a tsarist restoration: they are merely actuated by custom and dislike of novelty. they have never heard of the blockade; consequently they cannot understand why the government is unable to give them the clothes and agricultural implements that they need. having got their land, and being ignorant of affairs outside their own neighbourhood, they wish their own village to be independent, and would resent the demands of any government whatever. within the communist party there are, of course, as always in a bureaucracy, different factions, though hitherto the external pressure has prevented disunion. it seemed to me that the personnel of the bureaucracy could be divided into three classes. there are first the old revolutionists, tested by years of persecution. these men have most of the highest posts. prison and exile have made them tough and fanatical and rather out of touch with their own country. they are honest men, with a profound belief that communism will regenerate the world. they think themselves utterly free from sentiment, but, in fact, they are sentimental about communism and about the régime that they are creating; they cannot face the fact that what they are creating is not complete communism, and that communism is anathema to the peasant, who wants his own land and nothing else. they are pitiless in punishing corruption or drunkenness when they find either among officials; but they have built up a system in which the temptations to petty corruption are tremendous, and their own materialistic theory should persuade them that under such a system corruption must be rampant. the second class in the bureaucracy, among whom are to be found most of the men occupying political posts just below the top, consists of _arrivistes_, who are enthusiastic bolsheviks because of the material success of bolshevism. with them must be reckoned the army of policemen, spies, and secret agents, largely inherited from the tsarist times, who make their profit out of the fact that no one can live except by breaking the law. this aspect of bolshevism is exemplified by the extraordinary commission, a body practically independent of the government, possessing its own regiments, who are better fed than the red army. this body has the power of imprisoning any man or woman without trial on such charges as speculation or counter-revolutionary activity. it has shot thousands without proper trial, and though now it has nominally lost the power of inflicting the death penalty, it is by no means certain that it has altogether lost it in fact. it has spies everywhere, and ordinary mortals live in terror of it. the third class in the bureaucracy consists of men who are not ardent communists, who have rallied to the government since it has proved itself stable, and who work for it either out of patriotism or because they enjoy the opportunity of developing their ideas freely without the obstacle of traditional institutions. among this class are to be found men of the type of the successful business man, men with the same sort of ability as is found in the american self-made trust magnate, but working for success and power, not for money. there is no doubt that the bolsheviks are successfully solving the problem of enlisting this kind of ability in the public service, without permitting it to amass wealth as it does in capitalist communities. this is perhaps their greatest success so far, outside the domain of war. it makes it possible to suppose that, if russia is allowed to have peace, an amazing industrial development may take place, making russia a rival of the united states. the bolsheviks are industrialists in all their aims; they love everything in modern industry except the excessive rewards of the capitalists. and the harsh discipline to which they are subjecting the workers is calculated, if anything can, to give them the habits of industry and honesty which have hitherto been lacking, and the lack of which alone prevents russia from being one of the foremost industrial countries. footnotes: [ ] in _theses_ (p. of french edition) it is said: "the ancient classic subdivision of the labour movement into three forms (parties, trade unions, and co-operatives) has served its time. the proletarian revolution has raised up in russia the essential form of proletarian dictatorship, the _soviets_. but the work in the soviets, as in the industrial trade unions which have become revolutionary, must be invariably and systematically directed by the party of the proletariat, i.e. the communist party. as the organized advanced guard of the working class, the communist party answers equally to the economic, political and spiritual needs of the entire working class. it must be the soul of the trade unions, the soviets, and all other proletarian organizations. "the appearance of the soviets, the principal historical form of the dictatorship of the proletariat, in no way diminishes the directing rôle of the party in the proletarian revolution. when the german communists of the 'left' ... declare that 'the party itself must also adapt itself more and more to the soviet idea and proletarianize itself,' we see there only an insinuating expression of the idea that the communist party must dissolve itself into the soviets, so that the soviets can replace it. "this idea is profoundly erroneous and reactionary. "the history of the russian revolution shows us, at a certain moment, the soviets going against the proletarian party and helping the agents of the bourgeoisie.... "in order that the soviets may fulfil their historic mission, the existence of a communist party, strong enough not to 'adapt' itself to the soviets but to exercise on them a decisive influence, to force them _not to adapt themselves_ to the bourgeoisie and official social democracy, ... is on the contrary necessary." vi the failure of russian industry at first sight it is surprising that russian industry should have collapsed as badly as it has done, and still more surprising that the efforts of the communists have not been more successful in reviving it. as i believe that the continued efficiency of industry is the main condition for success in the transition to a communist state, i shall endeavour to analyse the causes of the collapse, with a view to the discovery of ways by which it can be avoided elsewhere. of the fact of the collapse there can be no doubt. the ninth congress of the communist party (march-april, ) speaks of "the incredible catastrophes of public economy," and in connection with transport, which is one of the vital elements of the problem, it acknowledges "the terrible collapse of the transport and the railway system," and urges the introduction of "measures which cannot be delayed and which are to obviate the complete paralysis of the railway system and, together with this, the ruin of the soviet republic." almost all those who have visited russia would confirm this view of the gravity of the situation. in the factories, in great works like those of putilov and sornovo, very little except war work is being done; machinery stands idle and plant is becoming unusable. one sees hardly any new manufactured articles in russia, beyond a certain very inadequate quantity of clothes and boots--always excepting what is needed for the army. and the difficulty of obtaining food is conclusive evidence of the absence of goods such as are needed by the peasants. how has this state of affairs arisen? and why does it continue? a great deal of disorganization occurred before the first revolution and under kerensky. russian industry was partly dependent on poland; the war was conducted by methods of reckless extravagance, especially as regards rolling-stock; under kerensky there was a tendency to universal holiday, under the impression that freedom had removed the necessity for work. but when all this is admitted to the full, it remains true that the state of industry under the bolsheviks is much worse than even under kerensky. the first and most obvious reason for this is that russia was quite unusually dependent upon foreign assistance. not only did the machinery in the factories and the locomotives on the railways come from abroad, but the organizing and technical brains in industry were mainly foreign. when the entente became hostile to russia, the foreigners in russian industry either left the country or assisted counter-revolution. even those who were in fact loyal naturally became suspect, and could not well be employed in responsible posts, any more than germans could in england during the war. the native russians who had technical or business skill were little better; they almost all practised sabotage in the first period of the bolshevik régime. one hears amusing stories of common sailors frantically struggling with complicated accounts, because no competent accountant would work for the bolsheviks. but those days passed. when the government was seen to be stable, a great many of those who had formerly sabotaged it became willing to accept posts under it, and are now in fact so employed, often at quite exceptional salaries. their importance is thoroughly realized. one resolution at the above-mentioned congress says (i quote verbally the unedited document which was given to us in moscow): being of opinion that without a scientific organization of industry, even the widest application of compulsory labour service, as the great labour heroism of the working class, will not only fail to secure the establishment of a powerful socialist production, but will also fail to assist the country to free itself from the clutches of poverty--the congress considers it imperative to register all able specialists of the various departments of public economy and widely to utilize them for the purpose of industrial organization. the congress considers the elucidation for the wide masses of the workers of the tremendous character of the economic problems of the country to be one of the chief problems of industrial and general political agitation and propaganda; and of equal importance to this, technical education, and administrative and scientific technical experience. the congress makes it obligatory on all the members of the party mercilessly to fight that particular obnoxious form, the ignorant conceit which deems the working class capable of solving all problems without the assistance _in the most responsible cases_ of specialists of the bourgeois school, the management. demagogic elements who speculate on this kind of prejudice in the more backward section of our working classes, can have no place in the ranks of the party of scientific socialism. but russia alone is unable to supply the amount of skill required, and is very deficient in technical instructors, as well as in skilled workmen. one was told, over and over again, that the first step in improvement would be the obtaining of spare parts for locomotives. it seems strange that these could not be manufactured in russia. to some extent they can be, and we were shown locomotives which had been repaired on communist saturdays. but in the main the machinery for making spare parts is lacking and the skill required for its manufacture does not exist. thus dependence on the outside world persists, and the blockade continues to do its deadly work of spreading hunger, demoralization and despair. the food question is intimately bound up with the question of industry. there is a vicious circle, for not only does the absence of manufactured goods cause a food shortage in the towns, but the food shortage, in turn, diminishes the strength of the workers and makes them less able to produce goods. i cannot but think that there has been some mismanagement as regards the food question. for example, in petrograd many workers have allotments and often work in them for eight hours after an eight hours' day in their regular employment. but the food produced in the allotments is taken for general consumption, not left to each individual producer. this is in accordance with communist theory, but of course greatly diminishes the incentive to work, and increases the red tape and administrative machinery. lack of fuel has been another very grave source of trouble. before the war coal came mostly from poland and the donetz basin. poland is lost to russia, and the donetz basin was in the hands of denikin, who so destroyed the mines before retreating that they are still not in working order. the result is a practically complete absence of coal. oil, which is equally important in russia, was also lacking until the recent recovery of baku. all that i saw on the volga made me believe that real efficiency has been shown in reorganizing the transport of oil, and doubtless this will do something to revive industry. but the oil used to be worked very largely by englishmen, and english machinery is much needed for refining it. in the meantime, russia has had to depend upon wood, which involves immense labour. most of the houses are not warmed in winter, so that people live in a temperature below freezing-point. another consequence of lack of fuel was the bursting of water-pipes, so that people in petrograd, for the most part, have to go down to the neva to fetch their water--a considerable addition to the labour of an already overworked day. i find it difficult to believe that, if greater efficiency had existed in the government, the food and fuel difficulties could not have been considerably alleviated. in spite of the needs of the army, there are still many horses in russia; i saw troops of thousands of horses on the volga, which apparently belonged to kalmuk tribes. by the help of carts and sledges, it ought to be possible, without more labour than is warranted by the importance of the problem, to bring food and timber into moscow and petrograd. it must be remembered that both cities are surrounded by forests, and moscow at least is surrounded by good agricultural land. the government has devoted all its best energies hitherto to the two tasks of war and propaganda, while industry and the food problem have been left to a lesser degree of energy and intelligence. it is no doubt probable that, if peace is secured, the economic problems will receive more attention than hitherto. but the russian character seems less adapted to steady work of an unexciting nature than to heroic efforts on great occasions; it has immense passive endurance, but not much active tenacity. whether, with the menace of foreign invasion removed, enough day-by-day detailed energy would exist for the reorganization of industry, is a doubtful question, as to which only time can decide. this leads to the conclusion--which i think is adopted by most of the leading men in russia--that it will be very difficult indeed to save the revolution without outside economic assistance. outside assistance from capitalist countries is dangerous to the principles of communism, as well as precarious from the likelihood of fresh causes of quarrel. but the need of help is urgent, and if the policy of promoting revolution elsewhere were to succeed, it would probably render the nations concerned temporarily incapable of supplying russian needs. it is, therefore, necessary for russia to accept the risks and uncertainties involved in attempting to make peace with the entente and to trade with america. by continuing war, russia can do infinite damage to us, especially in asia, but cannot hope, for many years, to achieve any degree of internal prosperity. the situation, therefore, is one in which, even from the narrowest point of view, peace is to the interest of both parties. it is difficult for an outsider with only superficial knowledge to judge of the efforts which have been made to reorganize industry without outside help. these efforts have chiefly taken the form of industrial conscription. workers in towns seek to escape to the country, in order to have enough to eat; but this is illegal and severely punished. the same communist report from which i have already quoted speaks on this subject as follows: _labour desertion._--owing to the fact that a considerable part of the workers either in search of better food conditions or often for the purposes of speculation, voluntarily leave their places of employment or change from place to place, which inevitably harms production and deteriorates the general position of the working class, the congress considers one of the most urgent problems of soviet government and of the trade union organization to be established as the firm, systematic and insistent struggle with labour desertion, the way to fight this is to publish a list of desertion fines, the creation of a labour detachment of deserters under fine, and, finally, internment in concentration camps. it is hoped to extend the system to the peasantry: the defeat of the white armies and the problems of peaceful construction in connection with the incredible catastrophes of public economy demand an extraordinary effort of all the powers of the proletariat and the drafting into the process of public labour of the wide masses of the peasantry. on the vital subject of transport, in a passage of which i have already quoted a fragment, the communist party declares: for the most immediate future transport remains the centre of the attention and the efforts of the soviet government. the improvement of transport is the indispensable basis upon which even the most moderate success in all other spheres of production and first of all in the provision question can be gained. the chief difficulty with regard to the improvement of transport is the weakness of the transport trade union, which is due in the first case to the heterogeneity of the personnel of the railways, amongst whom there are still a number of those who belong to the period of disorganization, and, secondly, to the fact that the most class-conscious and best elements of the railway proletariat were at the various fronts of the civil war. considering wide trade union assistance to the railway workers to be one of the principal tasks of the party, and as the only condition under which transport can be raised to its height, the congress at the same time recognizes the inflexible necessity of employing exclusive and extraordinary measures (martial law, and so forth). such necessity is the result of the terrible collapse of the transport and the railroad system and is to introduce measures which cannot be delayed and which are to obviate the complete paralysis of the railway system and, together with this, the ruin of the soviet republic. the general attitude to the militarization of labour is stated in the resolution with which this section of the proceedings begins: the ninth congress approves of the decision of the central committee of the russian communist party on the mobilization of the industrial proletariat, compulsory labour service, militarization of production and the application of military detachments to economic needs. in connection with the above, the congress decrees that the party organization should in every way assist the trade unions and the labour sections in registering all skilled workers with a view of employing them in the various branches of production with the same consistency and strictness as was done, and is being carried out at the present time, in relation to the commanding staff for army needs. every skilled worker is to return to his particular trade exceptions, i.e. the retention of the skilled worker in any other branch of soviet service, is allowed only with the sanction of the corresponding central and local authorities. it is, of course, evident that in these measures the bolsheviks have been compelled to travel a long way from the ideals which originally inspired the revolution. but the situation is so desperate that they could not be blamed if their measures were successful. in a shipwreck all hands must turn to, and it would be ridiculous to prate of individual liberty. the most distressing feature of the situation is that these stern laws seem to have produced so little effect. perhaps in the course of years russia might become self-supporting without help from the outside world, but the suffering meantime would be terrible. the early hopes of the revolution would fade more and more. every failure of industry, every tyrannous regulation brought about by the desperate situation, is used by the entente as a justification of its policy. if a man is deprived of food and drink, he will grow weak, lose his reason, and finally die. this is not usually considered a good reason for inflicting death by starvation. but where nations are concerned, the weakness and struggles are regarded as morally culpable, and are held to justify further punishment. so at least it has been in the case of russia. nothing produced a doubt in our governing minds as to the rightness of our policy except the strength of the red army and the fear of revolution in asia. is it surprising that professions of humanitarian feeling on the part of english people are somewhat coldly received in soviet russia? vii daily life in moscow daily life in moscow, so far as i could discover, has neither the horrors depicted by the northcliffe press nor the delights imagined by the more ardent of our younger socialists. on the one hand, there is no disorder, very little crime, not much insecurity for those who keep clear of politics. everybody works hard; the educated people have, by this time, mostly found their way into government offices or teaching or some other administrative profession in which their education is useful. the theatres, the opera and the ballet continue as before, and are quite admirable; some of the seats are paid for, others are given free to members of trade unions. there is, of course, no drunkenness, or at any rate so little that none of us ever saw a sign of it. there is very little prostitution, infinitely less than in any other capital. women are safer from molestation than anywhere else in the world. the whole impression is one of virtuous, well-ordered activity. on the other hand, life is very hard for all except men in good posts. it is hard, first of all, owing to the food shortage. this is familiar to all who have interested themselves in russia, and it is unnecessary to dwell upon it. what is less realized is that most people work much longer hours than in this country. the eight-hour day was introduced with a flourish of trumpets; then, owing to the pressure of the war, it was extended to ten hours in certain trades. but no provision exists against extra work at other jobs, and very many people do extra work, because the official rates do not afford a living wage. this is not the fault of the government, at any rate as regards the major part; it is due chiefly to war and blockade. when the day's work is over, a great deal of time has to be spent in fetching food and water and other necessaries of life. the sight of the workers going to and fro, shabbily clad, with the inevitable bundle in one hand and tin can in the other, through streets almost entirely empty of traffic, produces the effect of life in some vast village, rather than in an important capital city. holidays, such as are common throughout all but the very poorest class in this country, are very difficult in russia. a train journey requires a permit, which is only granted on good reasons being shown; with the present shortage of transport, this regulation is quite unavoidable. railway queues are a common feature in moscow; it often takes several days to get a permit. then, when it has been obtained, it may take several more days to get a seat in a train. the ordinary trains are inconceivably crowded, far more so, though that seems impossible, than london trains at the busiest hour. on the shorter journeys, passengers are even known to ride on the roof and buffers, or cling like flies to the sides of the waggons. people in moscow travel to the country whenever they can afford the time and get a permit, because in the country there is enough to eat. they go to stay with relations--most people in moscow, in all classes, but especially among manual workers, have relations in the country. one cannot, of course, go to an hotel as one would in other countries. hotels have been taken over by the state, and the rooms in them (when they are still used) are allocated by the police to people whose business is recognized as important by the authorities. casual travel is therefore impossible even on a holiday. journeys have vexations in addition to the slowness and overcrowding of the trains. police search the travellers for evidences of "speculation," especially for food. the police play, altogether, a much greater part in daily life than they do in other countries--much greater than they did, for example, in prussia twenty-five years ago, when there was a vigorous campaign against socialism. everybody breaks the law almost daily, and no one knows which among his acquaintances is a spy of the extraordinary commission. even in the prisons, among prisoners, there are spies, who are allowed certain privileges but not their liberty. newspapers are not taken in, except by very few people, but they are stuck up in public places, where passers-by occasionally glance at them.[ ] there is very little to read; owing to paper shortage, books are rare, and money to buy them is still rarer. one does not see people reading, as one does here in the underground for example. there is practically no social life, partly because of the food shortage, partly because, when anybody is arrested, the police are apt to arrest everybody whom they find in his company, or who comes to visit him. and once arrested, a man or woman, however innocent, may remain for months in prison without trial. while we were in moscow, forty social revolutionaries and anarchists were hunger-striking to enforce their demand to be tried and to be allowed visits. i was told that on the eighth day of the strike the government consented to try them, and that few could be proved guilty of any crime; but i had no means of verifying this. industrial conscription is, of course, rigidly enforced. every man and woman has to work, and slacking is severely punished, by prison or a penal settlement. strikes are illegal, though they sometimes occur. by proclaiming itself the friend of the proletarian, the government has been enabled to establish an iron discipline, beyond the wildest dreams of the most autocratic american magnate. and by the same professions the government has led socialists from other countries to abstain from reporting unpleasant features in what they have seen. the tolstoyans, of whom i saw the leaders, are obliged by their creed to resist every form of conscription, though some have found ways of compromising. the law concerning conscientious objectors to military service is practically the same as ours, and its working depends upon the temper of the tribunal before which a man comes. some conscientious objectors have been shot; on the other hand, some have obtained absolute exemption. life in moscow, as compared to life in london, is drab, monotonous, and depressed. i am not, of course, comparing life there with that of the rich here, but with that of the average working-class family. when it is realized that the highest wages are about fifteen shillings a month, this is not surprising. i do not think that life could, under any system, be very cheerful in a country so exhausted by war as russia, so i am not saying this as a criticism of the bolsheviks. but i do think there might be less police interference, less vexatious regulation, and more freedom for spontaneous impulses towards harmless enjoyments. religion is still very strong. i went into many churches, where i saw obviously famished priests in gorgeous vestments, and a congregation enormously devout. generally more than half the congregation were men, and among the men many were soldiers. this applies to the towns as well as to the country. in moscow i constantly saw people in the streets crossing themselves. there is a theory that the moscow working man feels himself free from capitalist domination, and therefore bears hardships gladly. this is no doubt true of the minority who are active communists, but i do not think it has any truth for the others. the average working man, to judge by a rather hasty impression, feels himself the slave of the government, and has no sense whatever of having been liberated from a tyranny. i recognize to the full the reasons for the bad state of affairs, in the past history of russia and the recent policy of the entente. but i have thought it better to record impressions frankly, trusting the readers to remember that the bolsheviks have only a very limited share of responsibility for the evils from which russia is suffering. footnotes: [ ] the ninth communist congress (march-april, ) says on this subject: "in view of the fact that the first condition of the success of the soviet republic in all departments, including the economic, is chiefly systematic printed agitation, the congress draws the attention of the soviet government to the deplorable state in which our paper and printing industries find themselves. the ever decreasing number of newspapers fail to reach not only the peasants but even the workers, in addition to which our poor technical means render the papers hardly readable. the congress strongly appeals to the supreme council of public economy, to the corresponding trade unions and other interested institutions, to apply all efforts to raise the quantity, to introduce general system and order in the printing business, and so secure for the worker and peasant in russia a supply of socialist printed matter." viii town and country the problem of inducing the peasants to feed the towns is one which russia shares with central europe, and from what one hears russia has been less unsuccessful than some other countries in dealing with this problem. for the soviet government, the problem is mainly concentrated in moscow and petrograd; the other towns are not very large, and are mostly in the centre of rich agricultural districts. it is true that in the north even the rural population normally depends upon food from more southerly districts; but the northern population is small. it is commonly said that the problem of feeding moscow and petrograd is a transport problem, but i think this is only partially true. there is, of course, a grave deficiency of rolling-stock, especially of locomotives in good repair. but moscow is surrounded by very good land. in the course of a day's motoring in the neighbourhood, i saw enough cows to supply milk to the whole child population of moscow, although what i had come to see was children's sanatoria, not farms. all kinds of food can be bought in the market at high prices. i travelled over a considerable extent of russian railways, and saw a fair number of goods trains. for all these reasons, i feel convinced that the share of the transport problem in the food difficulties has been exaggerated. of course transport plays a larger part in the shortage in petrograd than in moscow, because food comes mainly from south of moscow. in petrograd, most of the people one sees in the streets show obvious signs of under-feeding. in moscow, the visible signs are much less frequent, but there is no doubt that under-feeding, though not actual starvation, is nearly universal. the government supplies rations to every one who works in the towns at a very low fixed price. the official theory is that the government has a monopoly of the food and that the rations are sufficient to sustain life. the fact is that the rations are not sufficient, and that they are only a portion of the food supply of moscow. moreover, people complain, i do not know how truly, that the rations are delivered irregularly; some say, about every other day. under these circumstances, almost everybody, rich or poor, buys food in the market, where it costs about fifty times the fixed government price. a pound of butter costs about a month's wages. in order to be able to afford extra food, people adopt various expedients. some do additional work, at extra rates, after their official day's work is over. for, though there is supposed to be by law an eight-hours day, extended to ten in certain vital industries, the wage paid for it is not a living wage, and there is nothing to prevent a man from undertaking other work in his spare time. but the usual resource is what is called "speculation," i.e., buying and selling. some person formerly rich sells clothes or furniture or jewellery in return for food; the buyer sells again at an enhanced price, and so on through perhaps twenty hands, until a final purchaser is found in some well-to-do peasant or _nouveau riche_ speculator. again, most people have relations in the country, whom they visit from time to time, bringing back with them great bags of flour. it is illegal for private persons to bring food into moscow, and the trains are searched; but, by corruption or cunning, experienced people can elude the search. the food market is illegal, and is raided occasionally; but as a rule it is winked at. thus the attempt to suppress private commerce has resulted in an amount of unprofessional buying and selling which far exceeds what happens in capitalist countries. it takes up a great deal of time that might be more profitably employed; and, being illegal, it places practically the whole population of moscow at the mercy of the police. moreover, it depends largely upon the stores of goods belonging to those who were formerly rich, and when these are expended the whole system must collapse, unless industry has meanwhile been re-established on a sound basis. it is clear that the state of affairs is unsatisfactory, but, from the government's point of view, it is not easy to see what ought to be done. the urban and industrial population is mainly concerned in carrying on the work of government and supplying munitions to the army. these are very necessary tasks, the cost of which ought to be defrayed out of taxation. a moderate tax in kind on the peasants would easily feed moscow and petrograd. but the peasants take no interest in war or government. russia is so vast that invasion of one part does not touch another part; and the peasants are too ignorant to have any national consciousness, such as one takes for granted in england or france or germany. the peasants will not willingly part with a portion of their produce merely for purposes of national defence, but only for the goods they need--clothes, agricultural implements, &c.--which the government, owing to the war and the blockade, is not in a position to supply. when the food shortage was at its worst, the government antagonized the peasants by forced requisitions, carried out with great harshness by the red army. this method has been modified, but the peasants still part unwillingly with their food, as is natural in view of the uselessness of paper and the enormously higher prices offered by private buyers. the food problem is the main cause of popular opposition to the bolsheviks, yet i cannot see how any popular policy could have been adopted. the bolsheviks are disliked by the peasants because they take so much food; they are disliked in the towns because they take so little. what the peasants want is what is called free trade, i.e., de-control of agricultural produce. if this policy were adopted, the towns would be faced by utter starvation, not merely by hunger and hardship. it is an entire misconception to suppose that the peasants cherish any hostility to the entente. the _daily news_ of july th, in an otherwise excellent leading article, speaks of "the growing hatred of the russian peasant, who is neither a communist nor a bolshevik, for the allies generally and this country in particular." the typical russian peasant has never heard of the allies or of this country; he does not know that there is a blockade; all he knows is that he used to have six cows but the government reduced him to one for the sake of poorer peasants, and that it takes his corn (except what is needed for his own family) at a very low price. the reasons for these actions do not interest him, since his horizon is bounded by his own village. to a remarkable extent, each village is an independent unit. so long as the government obtains the food and soldiers that it requires, it does not interfere, and leaves untouched the old village communism, which is extraordinarily unlike bolshevism and entirely dependent upon a very primitive stage of culture. the government represents the interests of the urban and industrial population, and is, as it were, encamped amid a peasant nation, with whom its relations are rather diplomatic and military than governmental in the ordinary sense. the economic situation, as in central europe, is favourable to the country and unfavourable to the towns. if russia were governed democratically, according to the will of the majority, the inhabitants of moscow and petrograd would die of starvation. as it is, moscow and petrograd just manage to live, by having the whole civil and military power of the state devoted to their needs. russia affords the curious spectacle of a vast and powerful empire, prosperous at the periphery, but faced with dire want at the centre. those who have least prosperity have most power; and it is only through their excess of power that they are enabled to live at all. the situation is due at bottom to two facts: that almost the whole industrial energies of the population have had to be devoted to war, and that the peasants do not appreciate the importance of the war or the fact of the blockade. it is futile to blame the bolsheviks for an unpleasant and difficult situation which it has been impossible for them to avoid. their problem is only soluble in one of two ways: by the cessation of the war and the blockade, which would enable them to supply the peasants with the goods they need in exchange for food; or by the gradual development of an independent russian industry. this latter method would be slow, and would involve terrible hardships, but some of the ablest men in the government believe it to be possible if peace cannot be achieved. if we force this method upon russia by the refusal of peace and trade, we shall forfeit the only inducement we can hold out for friendly relations; we shall render the soviet state unassailable and completely free to pursue the policy of promoting revolution everywhere. but the industrial problem is a large subject, which has been already discussed in chapter vi. ix international policy in the course of these chapters, i have had occasion to mention disagreeable features of the bolshevik régime. but it must always be remembered that these are chiefly due to the fact that the industrial life of russia has been paralysed except as ministering to the wants of the army, and that the government has had to wage a bitter and doubtful civil and external war, involving the constant menace of domestic enemies. harshness, espionage, and a curtailment of liberty result unavoidably from these difficulties. i have no doubt whatever that the sole cure for the evils from which russia is suffering is peace and trade. peace and trade would put an end to the hostility of the peasants, and would at once enable the government to depend upon popularity rather than force. the character of the government would alter rapidly under such conditions. industrial conscription, which is now rigidly enforced, would become unnecessary. those who desire a more liberal spirit would be able to make their voices heard without the feeling that they were assisting reaction and the national enemies. the food difficulties would cease, and with them the need for an autocratic system in the towns. it must not be assumed, as is common with opponents of bolshevism, that any other government could easily be established in russia. i think every one who has been in russia recently is convinced that the existing government is stable. it may undergo internal developments, and might easily, but for lenin, become a bonapartist military autocracy. but this would be a change from within--not perhaps a very great change--and would probably do little to alter the economic system. from what i saw of the russian character and of the opposition parties, i became persuaded that russia is not ready for any form of democracy, and needs a strong government. the bolsheviks represent themselves as the allies of western advanced socialism, and from this point of view they are open to grave criticism. for their international programme there is, to my mind, nothing to be said. but as a national government, stripped of their camouflage, regarded as the successors of peter the great, they are performing a necessary though unamiable task. they are introducing, as far as they can, american efficiency among a lazy and undisciplined population. they are preparing to develop the natural resources of their country by the methods of state socialism, for which, in russia, there is much to be said. in the army they are abolishing illiteracy, and if they had peace they would do great things for education everywhere. but if we continue to refuse peace and trade, i do not think the bolsheviks will go under. russia will endure great hardships, in the years to come as before. but the russians are inured to misery as no western nation is; they can live and work under conditions which we should find intolerable. the government will be driven more and more, from mere self-preservation, into a policy of imperialism. the entente has been doing everything to expose germany to a russian invasion of arms and leaflets, by allowing poland to engage in war and compelling germany to disarm. all asia lies open to bolshevik ambitions. almost the whole of the former russian empire in asia is quite firmly in their grasp. trains are running at a reasonable speed to turkestan, and i saw cotton from there being loaded on to volga steamers. in persia and turkey, revolts are taking place, with bolshevik support. it is only a question of a few years before india will be in touch with the red army. if we continue to antagonize the bolsheviks, i do not see what force exists that can prevent them from acquiring the whole of asia within ten years. the russian government is not yet definitely imperialistic in spirit, and would still prefer peace to conquest. the country is weary of war and denuded of goods. but if the western powers insist upon war, another spirit, which is already beginning to show itself, will become dominant. conquest will be the only alternative to submission. asiatic conquest will not be difficult. but for us, from the imperialist standpoint, it will mean utter ruin. and for the continent it will mean revolutions, civil wars, economic cataclysms. the policy of crushing bolshevism by force was always foolish and criminal; it has now become impossible and fraught with disaster. our own government, it would seem, have begun to realize the dangers, but apparently they do not realize them sufficiently to enforce their view against opposition. in the theses presented to the second congress of the third international (july ), there is a very interesting article by lenin called "first sketch of the theses on national and colonial questions" (_theses_, pp. - ). the following passages seemed to me particularly illuminating:-- the present world-situation in politics places on the order of the day the dictatorship of the proletariat; and all the events of world politics are inevitably concentrated round one centre of gravity: the struggle of the international bourgeoisie against the soviet republic, which inevitably groups round it, on the one hand the sovietist movements of the advanced working men of all countries, on the other hand all the national movements of emancipation of colonies and oppressed nations which have been convinced by a bitter experience that there is no salvation for them except in the victory of the soviet government over world-imperialism. we cannot therefore any longer confine ourselves to recognizing and proclaiming the union of the workers of all countries. it is henceforth necessary to pursue the realization of the strictest union of all the national and colonial movements of emancipation with soviet russia, by giving to this union forms corresponding to the degree of evolution of the proletarian movement among the proletariat of each country, or of the democratic-bourgeois movement of emancipation among the workers and peasants of backward countries or backward nationalities. the federal principle appears to us as a transitory form towards the complete unity of the workers of all countries. this is the formula for co-operation with sinn fein or with egyptian and indian nationalism. it is further defined later. in regard to backward countries, lenin says, we must have in view:-- the necessity of the co-operation of all communists in the democratic-bourgeois movement of emancipation in those countries. again: "the communist international must conclude temporary alliances with the bourgeois democracy of backward countries, but must never fuse with it." the class-conscious proletariat must "show itself particularly circumspect towards the survivals of national sentiment in countries long oppressed," and must "consent to certain useful concessions." the asiatic policy of the russian government was adopted as a move against the british empire, and as a method of inducing the british government to make peace. it plays a larger part in the schemes of the leading bolsheviks than is realized by the labour party in this country. its method is not, for the present, to preach communism, since the persians and hindoos are considered scarcely ripe for the doctrines of marx. it is nationalist movements that are supported by money and agitators from moscow. the method of quasi-independent states under bolshevik protection is well understood. it is obvious that this policy affords opportunities for imperialism, under the cover of propaganda, and there is no doubt that some among the bolsheviks are fascinated by its imperialist aspect. the importance officially attached to the eastern policy is illustrated by the fact that it was the subject of the concluding portion of lenin's speech to the recent congress of the third international (july ). bolshevism, like everything russian, is partly asiatic in character. one may distinguish two distinct trends, developing into two distinct policies. on the one side are the practical men, who wish to develop russia industrially, to secure the gains of the revolution nationally, to trade with the west, and gradually settle down into a more or less ordinary state. these men have on their side the fact of the economic exhaustion of russia, the danger of ultimate revolt against bolshevism if life continues to be as painful as it is at present, and the natural sentiment of humanity that wishes to relieve the sufferings of the people; also the fact that, if revolutions elsewhere produce a similar collapse of industry, they will make it impossible for russia to receive the outside help which is urgently needed. in the early days, when the government was weak, they had unchallenged control of policy, but success has made their position less secure. on the other side there is a blend of two quite different aims: first, the desire to promote revolution in the western nations, which is in line with communist theory, and is also thought to be the only way of obtaining a really secure peace; secondly, the desire for asiatic dominion, which is probably accompanied in the minds of some with dreams of sapphires and rubies and golden thrones and all the glories of their forefather solomon. this desire produces an unwillingness to abandon the eastern policy, although it is realized that, until it is abandoned, peace with capitalist england is impossible. i do not know whether there are some to whom the thought occurs that if england were to embark on revolution we should become willing to abandon india to the russians. but i am certain that the converse thought occurs, namely that, if india could be taken from us, the blow to imperialist feeling might lead us to revolution. in either case, the two policies, of revolution in the west and conquest (disguised as liberation of oppressed peoples) in the east, work in together, and dovetail into a strongly coherent whole. bolshevism as a social phenomenon is to be reckoned as a religion, not as an ordinary political movement. the important and effective mental attitudes to the world may be broadly divided into the religious and the scientific. the scientific attitude is tentative and piecemeal, believing what it finds evidence for, and no more. since galileo, the scientific attitude has proved itself increasingly capable of ascertaining important facts and laws, which are acknowledged by all competent people regardless of temperament or self-interest or political pressure. almost all the progress in the world from the earliest times is attributable to science and the scientific temper; almost all the major ills are attributable to religion. by a religion i mean a set of beliefs held as dogmas, dominating the conduct of life, going beyond or contrary to evidence, and inculcated by methods which are emotional or authoritarian, not intellectual. by this definition, bolshevism is a religion: that its dogmas go beyond or contrary to evidence, i shall try to prove in what follows. those who accept bolshevism become impervious to scientific evidence, and commit intellectual suicide. even if all the doctrines of bolshevism were true, this would still be the case, since no unbiased examination of them is tolerated. one who believes, as i do, that the free intellect is the chief engine of human progress, cannot but be fundamentally opposed to bolshevism, as much as to the church of rome. among religions, bolshevism is to be reckoned with mohammedanism rather than with christianity and buddhism. christianity and buddhism are primarily personal religions, with mystical doctrines and a love of contemplation. mohammedanism and bolshevism are practical, social, unspiritual, concerned to win the empire of this world. their founders would not have resisted the third of the temptations in the wilderness. what mohammedanism did for the arabs, bolshevism may do for the russians. as ali went down before the politicians who only rallied to the prophet after his success, so the genuine communists may go down before those who are now rallying to the ranks of the bolsheviks. if so, asiatic empire with all its pomps and splendours may well be the next stage of development, and communism may seem, in historical retrospect, as small a part of bolshevism as abstinence from alcohol is of mohammedanism. it is true that, as a world force, whether for revolution or for empire, bolshevism must sooner or later be brought by success into a desperate conflict with america; and america is more solid and strong, as yet, than anything that mohammed's followers had to face. but the doctrines of communism are almost certain, in the long run, to make progress among american wage-earners, and the opposition of america is therefore not likely to be eternal. bolshevism may go under in russia, but even if it does it will spring up again elsewhere, since it is ideally suited to an industrial population in distress. what is evil in it is mainly due to the fact that it has its origin in distress; the problem is to disentangle the good from the evil, and induce the adoption of the good in countries not goaded into ferocity by despair. russia is a backward country, not yet ready for the methods of equal co-operation which the west is seeking to substitute for arbitrary power in politics and industry. in russia, the methods of the bolsheviks are probably more or less unavoidable; at any rate, i am not prepared to criticize them in their broad lines. but they are not the methods appropriate to more advanced countries, and our socialists will be unnecessarily retrograde if they allow the prestige of the bolsheviks to lead them into slavish imitation. it will be a far less excusable error in our reactionaries if, by their unteachableness, they compel the adoption of violent methods. we have a heritage of civilization and mutual tolerance which is important to ourselves and to the world. life in russia has always been fierce and cruel, to a far greater degree than with us, and out of the war has come a danger that this fierceness and cruelty may become universal. i have hopes that in england this may be avoided through the moderation of both sides. but it is essential to a happy issue that melodrama should no longer determine our views of the bolsheviks: they are neither angels to be worshipped nor devils to be exterminated, but merely bold and able men attempting with great skill an almost impossible task. part ii bolshevik theory i the materialistic theory of history the materialistic conception of history, as it is called, is due to marx, and underlies the whole communist philosophy. i do not mean, of course, that a man could not be a communist without accepting it, but that in fact it is accepted by the communist party, and that it profoundly influences their views as to politics and tactics. the name does not convey at all accurately what is meant by the theory. it means that all the mass-phenomena of history are determined by economic motives. this view has no essential connection with materialism in the philosophic sense. materialism in the philosophic sense may be defined as the theory that all apparently mental occurrences either are really physical, or at any rate have purely physical causes. materialism in this sense also was preached by marx, and is accepted by all orthodox marxians. the arguments for and against it are long and complicated, and need not concern us, since, in fact, its truth or falsehood has little or no bearing on politics. in particular, philosophic materialism does not prove that economic causes are fundamental in politics. the view of buckle, for example, according to which climate is one of the decisive factors, is equally compatible with materialism. so is the freudian view, which traces everything to sex. there are innumerable ways of viewing history which are materialistic in the philosophic sense without being economic or falling within the marxian formula. thus the "materialistic conception of history" may be false even if materialism in the philosophic sense should be true. on the other hand, economic causes might be at the bottom of all political events even if philosophic materialism were false. economic causes operate through men's desire for possessions, and would be supreme if this desire were supreme, even if desire could not, from a philosophic point of view, be explained in materialistic terms. there is, therefore, no logical connection either way between philosophic materialism and what is called the "materialistic conception of history." it is of some moment to realize such facts as this, because otherwise political theories are both supported and opposed for quite irrelevant reasons, and arguments of theoretical philosophy are employed to determine questions which depend upon concrete facts of human nature. this mixture damages both philosophy and politics, and is therefore important to avoid. for another reason, also, the attempt to base a political theory upon a philosophical doctrine is undesirable. the philosophical doctrine of materialism, if true at all, is true everywhere and always; we cannot expect exceptions to it, say, in buddhism or in the hussite movement. and so it comes about that people whose politics are supposed to be a consequence of their metaphysics grow absolute and sweeping, unable to admit that a general theory of history is likely, at best, to be only true on the whole and in the main. the dogmatic character of marxian communism finds support in the supposed philosophic basis of the doctrine; it has the fixed certainty of catholic theology, not the changing fluidity and sceptical practicality of modern science. treated as a practical approximation, not as an exact metaphysical law, the materialistic conception of history has a very large measure of truth. take, as an instance of its truth, the influence of industrialism upon ideas. it is industrialism, rather than the arguments of darwinians and biblical critics, that has led to the decay of religious belief in the urban working class. at the same time, industrialism has revived religious belief among the rich. in the eighteenth century french aristocrats mostly became free-thinkers; now their descendants are mostly catholics, because it has become necessary for all the forces of reaction to unite against the revolutionary proletariat. take, again, the emancipation of women. plato, mary wolstonecraft, and john stuart mill produced admirable arguments, but influenced only a few impotent idealists. the war came, leading to the employment of women in industry on a large scale, and instantly the arguments in favour of votes for women were seen to be irresistible. more than that, traditional sexual morality collapsed, because its whole basis was the economic dependence of women upon their fathers and husbands. changes in such a matter as sexual morality bring with them profound alterations in the thoughts and feelings of ordinary men and women; they modify law, literature, art, and all kinds of institutions that seem remote from economics. such facts as these justify marxians in speaking, as they do, of "bourgeois ideology," meaning that kind of morality which has been imposed upon the world by the possessors of capital. contentment with one's lot may be taken as typical of the virtues preached by the rich to the poor. they honestly believe it is a virtue--at any rate they did formerly. the more religious among the poor also believed it, partly from the influence of authority, partly from an impulse to submission, what macdougall calls "negative self-feeling," which is commoner than some people think. similarly men preached the virtue of female chastity, and women usually accepted their teaching; both really believed the doctrine, but its persistence was only possible through the economic power of men. this led erring women to punishment here on earth, which made further punishment hereafter seem probable. when the economic penalty ceased, the conviction of sinfulness gradually decayed. in such changes we see the collapse of "bourgeois ideology." but in spite of the fundamental importance of economic facts in determining the politics and beliefs of an age or nation, i do not think that non-economic factors can be neglected without risks of errors which may be fatal in practice. the most obvious non-economic factor, and the one the neglect of which has led socialists most astray, is nationalism. of course a nation, once formed, has economic interests which largely determine its politics; but it is not, as a rule, economic motives that decide what group of human beings shall form a nation. trieste, before the war, considered itself italian, although its whole prosperity as a port depended upon its belonging to austria. no economic motive can account for the opposition between ulster and the rest of ireland. in eastern europe, the balkanization produced by self-determination has been obviously disastrous from an economic point of view, and was demanded for reasons which were in essence sentimental. throughout the war wage-earners, with only a few exceptions, allowed themselves to be governed by nationalist feeling, and ignored the traditional communist exhortation: "workers of the world, unite." according to marxian orthodoxy, they were misled by cunning capitalists, who made their profit out of the slaughter. but to any one capable of observing psychological facts, it is obvious that this is largely a myth. immense numbers of capitalists were ruined by the war; those who were young were just as liable to be killed as the proletarians were. no doubt commercial rivalry between england and germany had a great deal to do with causing the war; but rivalry is a different thing from profit-seeking. probably by combination english and german capitalists could have made more than they did out of rivalry, but the rivalry was instinctive, and its economic form was accidental. the capitalists were in the grip of nationalist instinct as much as their proletarian "dupes." in both classes some have gained by the war; but the universal will to war was not produced by the hope of gain. it was produced by a different set of instincts, and one which marxian psychology fails to recognize adequately. the marxian assumes that a man's "herd," from the point of view of herd-instinct, is his class, and that he will combine with those whose economic class-interest is the same as his. this is only very partially true in fact. religion has been the most decisive factor in determining a man's herd throughout long periods of the world's history. even now a catholic working man will vote for a catholic capitalist rather than for an unbelieving socialist. in america the divisions in local elections are mainly on religious lines. this is no doubt convenient for the capitalists, and tends to make them religious men; but the capitalists alone could not produce the result. the result is produced by the fact that many working men prefer the advancement of their creed to the improvement of their livelihood. however deplorable such a state of mind may be, it is not necessarily due to capitalist lies. all politics are governed by human desires. the materialist theory of history, in the last analysis, requires the assumption that every politically conscious person is governed by one single desire--the desire to increase his own share of commodities; and, further, that his method of achieving this desire will usually be to seek to increase the share of his class, not only his own individual share. but this assumption is very far from the truth. men desire power, they desire satisfactions for their pride and their self-respect. they desire victory over rivals so profoundly that they will invent a rivalry for the unconscious purpose of making a victory possible. all these motives cut across the pure economic motive in ways that are practically important. there is need of a treatment of political motives by the methods of psycho-analysis. in politics, as in private life, men invent myths to rationalize their conduct. if a man thinks that the only reasonable motive in politics is economic self-advancement, he will persuade himself that the things he wishes to do will make him rich. when he wants to fight the germans, he tells himself that their competition is ruining his trade. if, on the other hand, he is an "idealist," who holds that his politics should aim at the advancement of the human race, he will tell himself that the crimes of the germans demand their humiliation. the marxian sees through this latter camouflage, but not through the former. to desire one's own economic advancement is comparatively reasonable; to marx, who inherited eighteenth-century rationalist psychology from the british orthodox economists, self-enrichment seemed the natural aim of a man's political actions. but modern psychology has dived much deeper into the ocean of insanity upon which the little barque of human reason insecurely floats. the intellectual optimism of a bygone age is no longer possible to the modern student of human nature. yet it lingers in marxism, making marxians rigid and procrustean in their treatment of the life of instinct. of this rigidity the materialistic conception of history is a prominent instance. in the next chapter i shall attempt to outline a political psychology which seems to me more nearly true than that of marx. ii deciding forces in politics the larger events in the political life of the world are determined by the interaction of material conditions and human passions. the operation of the passions on the material conditions is modified by intelligence. the passions themselves may be modified by alien intelligence guided by alien passions. so far, such modification has been wholly unscientific, but it may in time become as precise as engineering. the classification of the passions which is most convenient in political theory is somewhat different from that which would be adopted in psychology. we may begin with desires for the necessaries of life: food, drink, sex, and (in cold climates) clothing and housing. when these are threatened, there is no limit to the activity and violence that men will display. planted upon these primitive desires are a number of secondary desires. love of property, of which the fundamental political importance is obvious, may be derived historically and psychologically from the hoarding instinct. love of the good opinion of others (which we may call vanity) is a desire which man shares with many animals; it is perhaps derivable from courtship, but has great survival value, among gregarious animals, in regard to others besides possible mates. rivalry and love of power are perhaps developments of jealousy; they are akin, but not identical. these four passions--acquisitiveness, vanity, rivalry, and love of power--are, after the basic instincts, the prime movers of almost all that happens in politics. their operation is intensified and regularized by herd instinct. but herd instinct, by its very nature, cannot be a prime mover, since it merely causes the herd to act in unison, without determining what the united action is to be. among men, as among other gregarious animals, the united action, in any given circumstances, is determined partly by the common passions of the herd, partly by imitation of leaders. the art of politics consists in causing the latter to prevail over the former. of the four passions we have enumerated, only one, namely acquisitiveness, is concerned at all directly with men's relations to their material conditions. the other three--vanity, rivalry, and love of power--are concerned with social relations. i think this is the source of what is erroneous in the marxian interpretation of history, which tacitly assumes that acquisitiveness is the source of all political actions. it is clear that many men willingly forego wealth for the sake of power and glory, and that nations habitually sacrifice riches to rivalry with other nations. the desire for some form of superiority is common to almost all energetic men. no social system which attempts to thwart it can be stable, since the lazy majority will never be a match for the energetic minority. what is called "virtue" is an offshoot of vanity: it is the habit of acting in a manner which others praise. the operation of material conditions may be illustrated by the statement (myers's _dawn of history_) that four of the greatest movements of conquest have been due to drought in arabia, causing the nomads of that country to migrate into regions already inhabited. the last of these four movements was the rise of islam. in these four cases, the primal need of food and drink was enough to set events in motion; but as this need could only be satisfied by conquest, the four secondary passions must have very soon come into play. in the conquests of modern industrialism, the secondary passions have been almost wholly dominant, since those who directed them had no need to fear hunger or thirst. it is the potency of vanity and love of power that gives hope for the industrial future of soviet russia, since it enables the communist state to enlist in its service men whose abilities might give them vast wealth in a capitalistic society. intelligence modifies profoundly the operation of material conditions. when america was first discovered, men only desired gold and silver; consequently the portions first settled were not those that are now most profitable. the bessemer process created the german iron and steel industry; inventions requiring oil have created a demand for that commodity which is one of the chief influences in international politics. the intelligence which has this profound effect on politics is not political, but scientific and technical: it is the kind of intelligence which discovers how to make nature minister to human passions. tungsten had no value until it was found to be useful in the manufacture of shells and electric light, but now people will, if necessary, kill each other in order to acquire tungsten. scientific intelligence is the cause of this change. the progress or retrogression of the world depends, broadly speaking, upon the balance between acquisitiveness and rivalry. the former makes for progress, the latter for retrogression. when intelligence provides improved methods of production, these may be employed to increase the general share of goods, or to set apart more of the labour power of the community for the business of killing its rivals. until , acquisitiveness had prevailed, on the whole, since the fall of napoleon; the past six years have seen a prevalence of the instinct of rivalry. scientific intelligence makes it possible to indulge this instinct more fully than is possible for primitive peoples, since it sets free more men from the labour of producing necessaries. it is possible that scientific intelligence may, in time, reach the point when it will enable rivalry to exterminate the human race. this is the most hopeful method of bringing about an end of war. for those who do not like this method, there is another: the study of scientific psychology and physiology. the physiological causes of emotions have begun to be known, through the studies of such men as cannon (_bodily changes in pain, hunger, fear and rage_). in time, it may become possible, by physiological means, to alter the whole emotional nature of a population. it will then depend upon the passions of the rulers how this power is used. success will come to the state which discovers how to promote pugnacity to the extent required for external war, but not to the extent which would lead to domestic dissensions. there is no method by which it can be insured that rulers shall desire the good of mankind, and therefore there is no reason to suppose that the power to modify men's emotional nature would cause progress. if men desired to diminish rivalry, there is an obvious method. habits of power intensify the passion of rivalry; therefore a state in which power is concentrated will, other things being equal, be more bellicose than one in which power is diffused. for those who dislike wars, this is an additional argument against all forms of dictatorship. but dislike of war is far less common than we used to suppose; and those who like war can use the same argument to support dictatorship. iii bolshevik criticism of democracy the bolshevik argument against parliamentary democracy as a method of achieving socialism is a powerful one. my answer to it lies rather in pointing out what i believe to be fallacies in the bolshevik method, from which i conclude that no swift method exists of establishing any desirable form of socialism. but let us first see what the bolshevik argument is. in the first place, it assumes that those to whom it is addressed are absolutely certain that communism is desirable, so certain that they are willing, if necessary, to force it upon an unwilling population at the point of the bayonet. it then proceeds to argue that, while capitalism retains its hold over propaganda and its means of corruption, parliamentary methods are very unlikely to give a majority for communism in the house of commons, or to lead to effective action by such a majority even if it existed. communists point out how the people are deceived, and how their chosen leaders have again and again betrayed them. from this they argue that the destruction of capitalism must be sudden and catastrophic; that it must be the work of a minority; and that it cannot be effected constitutionally or without violence. it is therefore, in their view, the duty of the communist party in a capitalist country to prepare for armed conflict, and to take all possible measure for disarming the bourgeoisie and arming that part of the proletariat which is willing to support the communists. there is an air of realism and disillusionment about this position, which makes it attractive to those idealists who wish to think themselves cynics. but i think there are various points in which it fails to be as realistic as it pretends. in the first place, it makes much of the treachery of labour leaders in constitutional movements, but does not consider the possibility of the treachery of communist leaders in a revolution. to this the marxian would reply that in constitutional movements men are bought, directly or indirectly, by the money of the capitalists, but that revolutionary communism would leave the capitalists no money with which to attempt corruption. this has been achieved in russia, and could be achieved elsewhere. but selling oneself to the capitalists is not the only possible form of treachery. it is also possible, having acquired power, to use it for one's own ends instead of for the people. this is what i believe to be likely to happen in russia: the establishment of a bureaucratic aristocracy, concentrating authority in its own hands, and creating a régime just as oppressive and cruel as that of capitalism. marxians never sufficiently recognize that love of power is quite as strong a motive, and quite as great a source of injustice, as love of money; yet this must be obvious to any unbiased student of politics. it is also obvious that the method of violent revolution leading to a minority dictatorship is one peculiarly calculated to create habits of despotism which would survive the crisis by which they were generated. communist politicians are likely to become just like the politicians of other parties: a few will be honest, but the great majority will merely cultivate the art of telling a plausible tale with a view to tricking the people into entrusting them with power. the only possible way by which politicians as a class can be improved is the political and psychological education of the people, so that they may learn to detect a humbug. in england men have reached the point of suspecting a good speaker, but if a man speaks badly they think he must be honest. unfortunately, virtue is not so widely diffused as this theory would imply. in the second place, it is assumed by the communist argument that, although capitalist propaganda can prevent the majority from becoming communists, yet capitalist laws and police forces cannot prevent the communists, while still a minority, from acquiring a supremacy of military power. it is thought that secret propaganda can undermine the army and navy, although it is admittedly impossible to get the majority to vote at elections for the programme of the bolsheviks. this view is based upon russian experience, where the army and navy had suffered defeat and had been brutally ill used by incompetent tsarist authorities. the argument has no application to more efficient and successful states. among the germans, even in defeat, it was the civilian population that began the revolution. there is a further assumption in the bolshevik argument which seems to me quite unwarrantable. it is assumed that the capitalist governments will have learned nothing from the experience of russia. before the russian revolution, governments had not studied bolshevik theory. and defeat in war created a revolutionary mood throughout central and eastern europe. but now the holders of power are on their guard. there seems no reason whatever to suppose that they will supinely permit a preponderance of armed force to pass into the hands of those who wish to overthrow them, while, according to the bolshevik theory, they are still sufficiently popular to be supported by a majority at the polls. is it not as clear as noonday that in a democratic country it is more difficult for the proletariat to destroy the government by arms than to defeat it in a general election? seeing the immense advantages of a government in dealing with rebels, it seems clear that rebellion could have little hope of success unless a very large majority supported it. of course, if the army and navy were specially revolutionary, they might effect an unpopular revolution; but this situation, though something like it occurred in russia, is hardly to be expected in the western nations. this whole bolshevik theory of revolution by a minority is one which might just conceivably have succeeded as a secret plot, but becomes impossible as soon as it is openly avowed and advocated. but perhaps it will be said that i am caricaturing the bolshevik doctrine of revolution. it is urged by advocates of this doctrine, quite truly, that all political events are brought about by minorities, since the majority are indifferent to politics. but there is a difference between a minority in which the indifferent acquiesce, and a minority so hated as to startle the indifferent into belated action. to make the bolshevik doctrine reasonable, it is necessary to suppose that they believe the majority can be induced to acquiesce, at least temporarily, in the revolution made by the class-conscious minority. this, again, is based upon russian experience: desire for peace and land led to a widespread support of the bolsheviks in november on the part of people who have subsequently shown no love for communism. i think we come here to an essential part of bolshevik philosophy. in the moment of revolution, communists are to have some popular cry by which they win more support than mere communism could win. having thus acquired the state machine, they are to use it for their own ends. but this, again, is a method which can only be practised successfully so long as it is not avowed. it is to some extent habitual in politics. the unionists in won a majority on the boer war, and used it to endow brewers and church schools. the liberals in won a majority on chinese labour, and used it to cement the secret alliance with france and to make an alliance with tsarist russia. president wilson, in , won his majority on neutrality, and used it to come into the war. this method is part of the stock-in-trade of democracy. but its success depends upon repudiating it until the moment comes to practise it. those who, like the bolsheviks, have the honesty to proclaim in advance their intention of using power for other ends than those for which it was given them, are not likely to have a chance of carrying out their designs. what seems to me to emerge from these considerations is this: that in a democratic and politically educated country, armed revolution in favour of communism would have no chance of succeeding unless it were supported by a larger majority than would be required for the election of a communist government by constitutional methods. it is possible that, if such a government came into existence, and proceeded to carry out its programme, it would be met by armed resistance on the part of capital, including a large proportion of the officers in the army and navy. but in subduing this resistance it would have the support of that great body of opinion which believes in legality and upholds the constitution. moreover, having, by hypothesis, converted a majority of the nation, a communist government could be sure of loyal help from immense numbers of workers, and would not be forced, as the bolsheviks are in russia, to suspect treachery everywhere. under these circumstances, i believe that the resistance of the capitalists could be quelled without much difficulty, and would receive little support from moderate people. whereas, in a minority revolt of communists against a capitalist government, all moderate opinion would be on the side of capitalism. the contention that capitalist propaganda is what prevents the adoption of communism by wage-earners is only very partially true. capitalist propaganda has never been able to prevent the irish from voting against the english, though it has been applied to this object with great vigour. it has proved itself powerless, over and over again, in opposing nationalist movements which had almost no moneyed support. it has been unable to cope with religious feeling. and those industrial populations which would most obviously benefit by socialism have, in the main, adopted it, in spite of the opposition of employers. the plain truth is that socialism does not arouse the same passionate interest in the average citizen as is roused by nationality and used to be roused by religion. it is not unlikely that things may change in this respect: we may be approaching a period of economic civil wars comparable to that of the religious civil wars that followed the reformation. in such a period, nationalism is submerged by party: british and german socialists, or british and german capitalists, will feel more kinship with each other than with compatriots of the opposite political camp. but when that day comes, there will be no difficulty, in highly industrial countries, in securing socialist majorities; if socialism is not then carried without bloodshed, it will be due to the unconstitutional action of the rich, not to the need of revolutionary violence on the part of the advocates of the proletariat. whether such a state of opinion grows up or not depends mainly upon the stubbornness or conciliatoriness of the possessing classes, and, conversely, upon the moderation or violence of those who desire fundamental economic change. the majority which bolsheviks regard as unattainable is chiefly prevented by the ruthlessness of their own tactics. apart from all arguments of detail, there are two broad objections to violent revolution in a democratic community. the first is that, when once the principle of respecting majorities as expressed at the ballot-box is abandoned, there is no reason to suppose that victory will be secured by the particular minority to which one happens to belong. there are many minorities besides communists: religious minorities, teetotal minorities, militarist minorities, capitalist minorities. any one of these could adopt the method of obtaining power advocated by the bolsheviks, and any one would be just as likely to succeed as they are. what restrains these minorities, more or less, at present, is respect for the law and the constitution. bolsheviks tacitly assume that every other party will preserve this respect while they themselves, unhindered, prepare the revolution. but if their philosophy of violence becomes popular, there is not the slightest reason to suppose that they will be its beneficiaries. they believe that communism is for the good of the majority; they ought to believe that they can persuade the majority on this question, and to have the patience to set about the task of winning by propaganda. the second argument of principle against the method of minority violence is that abandonment of law, when it becomes widespread, lets loose the wild beast, and gives a free rein to the primitive lusts and egoisms which civilization in some degree curbs. every student of mediæval thought must have been struck by the extraordinarily high value placed upon law in that period. the reason was that, in countries infested by robber barons, law was the first requisite of progress. we, in the modern world, take it for granted that most people will be law-abiding, and we hardly realize what centuries of effort have gone to making such an assumption possible. we forget how many of the good things that we unquestionably expect would disappear out of life if murder, rape, and robbery with violence became common. and we forget even more how very easily this might happen. the universal class-war foreshadowed by the third international, following upon the loosening of restraints produced by the late war, and combined with a deliberate inculcation of disrespect for law and constitutional government, might, and i believe would, produce a state of affairs in which it would be habitual to murder men for a crust of bread, and in which women would only be safe while armed men protected them. the civilized nations have accepted democratic government as a method of settling internal disputes without violence. democratic government may have all the faults attributed to it, but it has the one great merit that people are, on the whole, willing to accept it as a substitute for civil war in political disputes. whoever sets to work to weaken this acceptance, whether in ulster or in moscow, is taking a fearful responsibility. civilization is not so stable that it cannot be broken up; and a condition of lawless violence is not one out of which any good thing is likely to emerge. for this reason, if for no other, revolutionary violence in a democracy is infinitely dangerous. iv revolution and dictatorship the bolsheviks have a very definite programme for achieving communism--a programme which has been set forth by lenin repeatedly, and quite recently in the reply of the third international to the questionnaire submitted by the independent labour party. capitalists, we are assured, will stick at nothing in defence of their privileges. it is the nature of man, in so far as he is politically conscious, to fight for the interests of his class so long as classes exist. when the conflict is not pushed to extremes, methods of conciliation and political deception may be preferable to actual physical warfare; but as soon as the proletariat make a really vital attack upon the capitalists, they will be met by guns and bayonets. this being certain and inevitable, it is as well to be prepared for it, and to conduct propaganda accordingly. those who pretend that pacific methods can lead to the realization of communism are false friends to the wage-earners; intentionally or unintentionally, they are covert allies of the bourgeoisie. there must, then, according to bolshevik theory, be armed conflict sooner or later, if the injustices of the present economic system are ever to be remedied. not only do they assume armed conflict: they have a fairly definite conception of the way in which it is to be conducted. this conception has been carried out in russia, and is to be carried out, before very long, in every civilized country. the communists, who represent the class-conscious wage-earners, wait for some propitious moment when events have caused a mood of revolutionary discontent with the existing government. they then put themselves at the head of the discontent, carry through a successful revolution, and in so doing acquire the arms, the railways, the state treasure, and all the other resources upon which the power of modern governments is built. they then confine political power to communists, however small a minority they may be of the whole nation. they set to work to increase their number by propaganda and the control of education. and meanwhile, they introduce communism into every department of economic life as quickly as possible. ultimately, after a longer or shorter period, according to circumstances, the nation will be converted to communism, the relics of capitalist institutions will have been obliterated, and it will be possible to restore freedom. but the political conflicts to which we are accustomed will not reappear. all the burning political questions of our time, according to the communists, are questions of class conflict, and will disappear when the division of classes disappears. accordingly the state will no longer be required, since the state is essentially an engine of power designed to give the victory to one side in the class conflict. ordinary states are designed to give the victory to the capitalists; the proletarian state (soviet russia) is designed to give the victory to the wage-earners. as soon as the community contains only wage-earners, the state will cease to have any functions. and so, through a period of dictatorship, we shall finally arrive at a condition very similar to that aimed at by anarchist communism. three questions arise in regard to this method of reaching utopia. first, would the ultimate state foreshadowed by the bolsheviks be desirable in itself? secondly, would the conflict involved in achieving it by the bolshevik method be so bitter and prolonged that its evils would outweigh the ultimate good? thirdly, is this method likely to lead, in the end, to the state which the bolsheviks desire, or will it fail at some point and arrive at a quite different result? if we are to be bolsheviks, we must answer all these questions in a sense favourable to their programme. as regards the first question, i have no hesitation in answering it in a manner favourable to communism. it is clear that the present inequalities of wealth are unjust. in part, they may be defended as affording an incentive to useful industry, but i do not think this defence will carry us very far. however, i have argued this question before in my book on _roads to freedom_, and i will not spend time upon it now. on this matter, i concede the bolshevik case. it is the other two questions that i wish to discuss. our second question was: is the ultimate good aimed at by the bolsheviks sufficiently great to be worth the price that, according to their own theory, will have to be paid for achieving it? if anything human were absolutely certain, we might answer this question affirmatively with some confidence. the benefits of communism, if it were once achieved, might be expected to be lasting; we might legitimately hope that further change would be towards something still better, not towards a revival of ancient evils. but if we admit, as we must do, that the outcome of the communist revolution is in some degree uncertain, it becomes necessary to count the cost; for a great part of the cost is all but certain. since the revolution of october, , the soviet government has been at war with almost all the world, and has had at the same time to face civil war at home. this is not to be regarded as accidental, or as a misfortune which could not be foreseen. according to marxian theory, what has happened was bound to happen. indeed, russia has been wonderfully fortunate in not having to face an even more desperate situation. first and foremost, the world was exhausted by the war, and in no mood for military adventures. next, the tsarist régime was the worst in europe, and therefore rallied less support than would be secured by any other capitalist government. again, russia is vast and agricultural, making it capable of resisting both invasion and blockade better than great britain or france or germany. the only other country that could have resisted with equal success is the united states, which is at present very far removed from a proletarian revolution, and likely long to remain the chief bulwark of the capitalist system. it is evident that great britain, attempting a similar revolution, would be forced by starvation to yield within a few months, provided america led a policy of blockade. the same is true, though in a less degree, of continental countries. therefore, unless and until an international communist revolution becomes possible, we must expect that any other nation following russia's example will have to pay an even higher price than russia has had to pay. now the price that russia is having to pay is very great. the almost universal poverty might be thought to be a small evil in comparison with the ultimate gain, but it brings with it other evils of which the magnitude would be acknowledged even by those who have never known poverty and therefore make light of it. hunger brings an absorption in the question of food, which, to most people, makes life almost purely animal. the general shortage makes people fierce, and reacts upon the political atmosphere. the necessity of inculcating communism produces a hot-house condition, where every breath of fresh air must be excluded: people are to be taught to think in a certain way, and all free intelligence becomes taboo. the country comes to resemble an immensely magnified jesuit college. every kind of liberty is banned as being "_bourgeois_"; but it remains a fact that intelligence languishes where thought is not free. all this, however, according to the leaders of the third international, is only a small beginning of the struggle, which must become world-wide before it achieves victory. in their reply to the independent labour party they say: it is probable that upon the throwing off of the chains of the capitalist governments, the revolutionary proletariat of europe will meet the resistance of anglo-saxon capital in the persons of british and american capitalists who will attempt to blockade it. it is then possible that the revolutionary proletariat of europe will rise in union with the peoples of the east and commence a revolutionary struggle, the scene of which will be the entire world, to deal a final blow to british and american capitalism (_the times_, july , ). the war here prophesied, if it ever takes place, will be one compared to which the late war will come to seem a mere affair of outposts. those who realize the destructiveness of the late war, the devastation and impoverishment, the lowering of the level of civilization throughout vast areas, the general increase of hatred and savagery, the letting loose of bestial instincts which had been curbed during peace--those who realize all this will hesitate to incur inconceivably greater horrors, even if they believe firmly that communism in itself is much to be desired. an economic system cannot be considered apart from the population which is to carry it out; and the population resulting from such a world-war as moscow calmly contemplates would be savage, bloodthirsty and ruthless to an extent that must make any system a mere engine of oppression and cruelty. this brings us to our third question: is the system which communists regard as their goal likely to result from the adoption of their methods? this is really the most vital question of the three. advocacy of communism by those who believe in bolshevik methods rests upon the assumption that there is no slavery except economic slavery, and that when all goods are held in common there must be perfect liberty. i fear this is a delusion. there must be administration, there must be officials who control distribution. these men, in a communist state, are the repositories of power. so long as they control the army, they are able, as in russia at this moment, to wield despotic power even if they are a small minority. the fact that there is communism--to a certain extent--does not mean that there is liberty. if the communism were more complete, it would not necessarily mean more freedom; there would still be certain officials in control of the food supply, and these officials could govern as they pleased so long as they retained the support of the soldiers. this is not mere theory: it is the patent lesson of the present condition of russia. the bolshevik theory is that a small minority are to seize power, and are to hold it until communism is accepted practically universally, which, they admit, may take a long time. but power is sweet, and few men surrender it voluntarily. it is especially sweet to those who have the habit of it, and the habit becomes most ingrained in those who have governed by bayonets, without popular support. is it not almost inevitable that men placed as the bolsheviks are placed in russia, and as they maintain that the communists must place themselves wherever the social revolution succeeds, will be loath to relinquish their monopoly of power, and will find reasons for remaining until some new revolution ousts them? would it not be fatally easy for them, without altering economic structure, to decree large salaries for high government officials, and so reintroduce the old inequalities of wealth? what motive would they have for not doing so? what motive is possible except idealism, love of mankind, non-economic motives of the sort that bolsheviks decry? the system created by violence and the forcible rule of a minority must necessarily allow of tyranny and exploitation; and if human nature is what marxians assert it to be, why should the rulers neglect such opportunities of selfish advantage? it is sheer nonsense to pretend that the rulers of a great empire such as soviet russia, when they have become accustomed to power, retain the proletarian psychology, and feel that their class-interest is the same as that of the ordinary working man. this is not the case in fact in russia now, however the truth may be concealed by fine phrases. the government has a class-consciousness and a class-interest quite distinct from those of the genuine proletarian, who is not to be confounded with the paper proletarian of the marxian schema. in a capitalist state, the government and the capitalists on the whole hang together, and form one class; in soviet russia, the government has absorbed the capitalist mentality together with the governmental, and the fusion has given increased strength to the upper class. but i see no reason whatever to expect equality or freedom to result from such a system, except reasons derived from a false psychology and a mistaken analysis of the sources of political power. i am compelled to reject bolshevism for two reasons: first, because the price mankind must pay to achieve communism by bolshevik methods is too terrible; and secondly because, even after paying the price, i do not believe the result would be what the bolsheviks profess to desire. but if their methods are rejected, how are we ever to arrive at a better economic system? this is not an easy question, and i shall treat it in a separate chapter. v mechanism and the individual is it possible to effect a fundamental reform of the existing economic system by any other method than that of bolshevism? the difficulty of answering this question is what chiefly attracts idealists to the dictatorship of the proletariat. if, as i have argued, the method of violent revolution and communist rule is not likely to have the results which idealists desire, we are reduced to despair unless we can see hope in other methods. the bolshevik arguments against all other methods are powerful. i confess that, when the spectacle of present-day russia forced me to disbelieve in bolshevik methods, i was at first unable to see any way of curing the essential evils of capitalism. my first impulse was to abandon political thinking as a bad job, and to conclude that the strong and ruthless must always exploit the weaker and kindlier sections of the population. but this is not an attitude that can be long maintained by any vigorous and temperamentally hopeful person. of course, if it were the truth, one would have to acquiesce. some people believe that by living on sour milk one can achieve immortality. such optimists are answered by a mere refutation; it is not necessary to go on and point out some other way of escaping death. similarly an argument that bolshevism will not lead to the millennium would remain valid even if it could be shown that the millennium cannot be reached by any other road. but the truth in social questions is not quite like truth in physiology or physics, since it depends upon men's beliefs. optimism tends to verify itself by making people impatient of avoidable evils; while despair, on the other hand, makes the world as bad as it believes it to be. it is therefore imperative for those who do not believe in bolshevism to put some other hope in its place. i think there are two things that must be admitted: first, that many of the worst evils of capitalism might survive under communism; secondly, that the cure for these evils cannot be sudden, since it requires changes in the average mentality. what are the chief evils of the present system? i do not think that mere inequality of wealth, in itself, is a very grave evil. if everybody had enough, the fact that some have more than enough would be unimportant. with a very moderate improvement in methods of production, it would be easy to ensure that everybody should have enough, even under capitalism, if wars and preparations for wars were abolished. the problem of poverty is by no means insoluble within the existing system, except when account is taken of psychological factors and the uneven distribution of power. the graver evils of the capitalist system all arise from its uneven distribution of power. the possessors of capital wield an influence quite out of proportion to their numbers or their services to the community. they control almost the whole of education and the press; they decide what the average man shall know or not know; the cinema has given them a new method of propaganda, by which they enlist the support of those who are too frivolous even for illustrated papers. very little of the intelligence of the world is really free: most of it is, directly or indirectly, in the pay of business enterprises or wealthy philanthropists. to satisfy capitalist interests, men are compelled to work much harder and more monotonously than they ought to work, and their education is scamped. wherever, as in barbarous or semi-civilized countries, labour is too weak or too disorganized to protect itself, appalling cruelties are practised for private profit. economic and political organizations become more and more vast, leaving less and less room for individual development and initiative. it is this sacrifice of the individual to the machine that is the fundamental evil of the modern world. to cure this evil is not easy, because efficiency is promoted, at any given moment, though not in the long run, by sacrificing the individual to the smooth working of a vast organization, whether military or industrial. in war and in commercial competition, it is necessary to control individual impulses, to treat men as so many "bayonets" or "sabres" or "hands," not as a society of separate people with separate tastes and capacities. some sacrifice of individual impulses is, of course, essential to the existence of an ordered community, and this degree of sacrifice is, as a rule, not regretable even from the individual's point of view. but what is demanded in a highly militarized or industrialized nation goes far beyond this very moderate degree. a society which is to allow much freedom to the individual must be strong enough to be not anxious about home defence, moderate enough to refrain from difficult external conquests, and rich enough to value leisure and a civilized existence more than an increase of consumable commodities. but where the material conditions for such a state of affairs exist, the psychological conditions are not likely to exist unless power is very widely diffused throughout the community. where power is concentrated in a few, it will happen, unless those few are very exceptional people, that they will value tangible achievements in the way of increase in trade or empire more than the slow and less obvious improvements that would result from better education combined with more leisure. the joys of victory are especially great to the holders of power, while the evils of a mechanical organization fall almost exclusively upon the less influential. for these reasons, i do not believe that any community in which power is much concentrated will long refrain from conflicts of the kind involving a sacrifice of what is most valuable in the individual. in russia at this moment, the sacrifice of the individual is largely inevitable, because of the severity of the economic and military struggle. but i did not feel, in the bolsheviks, any consciousness of the magnitude of this misfortune, or any realization of the importance of the individual as against the state. nor do i believe that men who do realize this are likely to succeed, or to come to the top, in times when everything has to be done against personal liberty. the bolshevik theory requires that every country, sooner or later, should go through what russia is going through now. and in every country in such a condition we may expect to find the government falling into the hands of ruthless men, who have not by nature any love for freedom, and who will see little importance in hastening the transition from dictatorship to freedom. it is far more likely that such men will be tempted to embark upon new enterprises, requiring further concentration of forces, and postponing indefinitely the liberation of the populations which they use as their material. for these reasons, equalization of wealth without equalization of power seems to me a rather small and unstable achievement. but equalization of power is not a thing that can be achieved in a day. it requires a considerable level of moral, intellectual, and technical education. it requires a long period without extreme crises, in order that habits of tolerance and good nature may become common. it requires vigour on the part of those who are acquiring power, without a too desperate resistance on the part of those whose share is diminishing. this is only possible if those who are acquiring power are not very fierce, and do not terrify their opponents by threats of ruin and death. it cannot be done quickly, because quick methods require that very mechanism and subordination of the individual which we should struggle to prevent. but even equalization of power is not the whole of what is needed politically. the right grouping of men for different purposes is also essential. self-government in industry, for example, is an indispensable condition of a good society. those acts of an individual or a group which have no very great importance for outsiders ought to be freely decided by that individual or group. this is recognized as regards religion, but ought to be recognized over a much wider field. bolshevik theory seems to me to err by concentrating its attention upon one evil, namely inequality of wealth, which it believes to be at the bottom of all others. i do not believe any one evil can be thus isolated, but if i had to select one as the greatest of political evils, i should select inequality of power. and i should deny that this is likely to be cured by the class-war and the dictatorship of the communist party. only peace and a long period of gradual improvement can bring it about. good relations between individuals, freedom from hatred and violence and oppression, general diffusion of education, leisure rationally employed, the progress of art and science--these seem to me among the most important ends that a political theory ought to have in view. i do not believe that they can be furthered, except very rarely, by revolution and war; and i am convinced that at the present moment they can only be promoted by a diminution in the spirit of ruthlessness generated by the war. for these reasons, while admitting the necessity and even utility of bolshevism in russia, i do not wish to see it spread, or to encourage the adoption of its philosophy by advanced parties in the western nations. vi why russian communism has failed the civilized world seems almost certain, sooner or later, to follow the example of russia in attempting a communist organization of society. i believe that the attempt is essential to the progress and happiness of mankind during the next few centuries, but i believe also that the transition has appalling dangers. i believe that, if the bolshevik theory as to the method of transition is adopted by communists in western nations, the result will be a prolonged chaos, leading neither to communism nor to any other civilized system, but to a relapse into the barbarism of the dark ages. in the interests of communism, no less than in the interests of civilization, i think it imperative that the russian failure should be admitted and analysed. for this reason, if for no other, i cannot enter into the conspiracy of concealment which many western socialists who have visited russia consider necessary. i shall try first to recapitulate the facts which make me regard the russian experiment as a failure, and then to seek out the causes of failure. the most elementary failure in russia is in regard to food. in a country which formerly produced a vast exportable surplus of cereals and other agricultural produce, and in which the non-agricultural population is only per cent. of the total, it ought to be possible, without great difficulty, to provide enough food for the towns. yet the government has failed badly in this respect. the rations are inadequate and irregular, so that it is impossible to preserve health and vigour without the help of food purchased illicitly in the markets at speculative prices. i have given reasons for thinking that the breakdown of transport, though a contributory cause, is not the main reason for the shortage. the main reason is the hostility of the peasants, which, in turn, is due to the collapse of industry and to the policy of forced requisitions. in regard to corn and flour, the government requisitions all that the peasant produces above a certain minimum required for himself and his family. if, instead, it exacted a fixed amount as rent, it would not destroy his incentive to production, and would not provide nearly such a strong motive for concealment. but this plan would have enabled the peasants to grow rich, and would have involved a confessed abandonment of communist theory. it has therefore been thought better to employ forcible methods, which led to disaster, as they were bound to do. the collapse of industry was the chief cause of the food difficulties, and has in turn been aggravated by them. owing to the fact that there is abundant food in the country, industrial and urban workers are perpetually attempting to abandon their employment for agriculture. this is illegal, and is severely punished, by imprisonment or convict labour. nevertheless it continues, and in so vast a country as russia it is not possible to prevent it. thus the ranks of industry become still further depleted. except as regards munitions of war, the collapse of industry in russia is extraordinarily complete. the resolutions passed by the ninth congress of the communist party (april, ) speak of "the incredible catastrophes of public economy." this language is not too strong, though the recovery of the baku oil has done something to produce a revival along the volga basin. the failure of the whole industrial side of the national economy, including transport, is at the bottom of the other failures of the soviet government. it is, to begin with, the main cause of the unpopularity of the communists both in town and country: in town, because the people are hungry; in the country, because food is taken with no return except paper. if industry had been prosperous, the peasants could have had clothes and agricultural machinery, for which they would have willingly parted with enough food for the needs of the towns. the town population could then have subsisted in tolerable comfort; disease could have been coped with, and the general lowering of vitality averted. it would not have been necessary, as it has been in many cases, for men of scientific or artistic capacity to abandon the pursuits in which they were skilled for unskilled manual labour. the communist republic might have been agreeable to live in--at least for those who had been very poor before. the unpopularity of the bolsheviks, which is primarily due to the collapse of industry, has in turn been accentuated by the measures which it has driven the government to adopt. in view of the fact that it was impossible to give adequate food to the ordinary population of petrograd and moscow, the government decided that at any rate the men employed on important public work should be sufficiently nourished to preserve their efficiency. it is a gross libel to say that the communists, or even the leading people's commissaries, live luxurious lives according to our standards; but it is a fact that they are not exposed, like their subjects, to acute hunger and the weakening of energy that accompanies it. no tone can blame them for this, since the work of government must be carried on; but it is one of the ways in which class distinctions have reappeared where it was intended that they should be banished. i talked to an obviously hungry working man in moscow, who pointed to the kremlin and remarked: "in there they have enough to eat." he was expressing a widespread feeling which is fatal to the idealistic appeal that communism attempts to make. owing to unpopularity, the bolsheviks have had to rely upon the army and the extraordinary commission, and have been compelled to reduce the soviet system to an empty form. more and more the pretence of representing the proletariat has grown threadbare. amid official demonstrations and processions and meetings the genuine proletarian looks on, apathetic and disillusioned, unless he is possessed of unusual energy and fire, in which case he looks to the ideas of syndicalism or the i.w.w. to liberate him from a slavery far more complete than that of capitalism. a sweated wage, long hours, industrial conscription, prohibition of strikes, prison for slackers, diminution of the already insufficient rations in factories where the production falls below what the authorities expect, an army of spies ready to report any tendency to political disaffection and to procure imprisonment for its promoters--this is the reality of a system which still professes to govern in the name of the proletariat. at the same time the internal and external peril has necessitated the creation of a vast army recruited by conscription, except as regards a communist nucleus, from among a population utterly weary of war, who put the bolsheviks in power because they alone promised peace. militarism has produced its inevitable result in the way of a harsh and dictatorial spirit: the men in power go through their day's work with the consciousness that they command three million armed men, and that civilian opposition to their will can be easily crushed. out of all this has grown a system painfully like the old government of the tsar--a system which is asiatic in its centralized bureaucracy, its secret service, its atmosphere of governmental mystery and submissive terror. in many ways it resembles our government of india. like that government, it stands for civilization, for education, sanitation, and western ideas of progress; it is composed in the main of honest and hard-working men, who despise those whom they govern, but believe themselves possessed of something valuable which they must communicate to the population, however little it may be desired. like our government in india, they live in terror of popular risings, and are compelled to resort to cruel repressions in order to preserve their power. like it, they represent an alien philosophy of life, which cannot be forced upon the people without a change of instinct, habit, and tradition so profound as to dry up the vital springs of action, producing listlessness and despair among the ignorant victims of militant enlightenment. it may be that russia needs sternness and discipline more than anything else; it may be that a revival of peter the great's methods is essential to progress. from this point of view, much of what it is natural to criticize in the bolsheviks becomes defensible; but this point of view has little affinity to communism. bolshevism may be defended, possibly, as a dire discipline through which a backward nation is to be rapidly industrialized; but as an experiment in communism it has failed. there are two things that a defender of the bolsheviks may say against the argument that they have failed because the present state of russia is bad. it may be said that it is too soon to judge, and it may be urged that whatever failure there has been is attributable to the hostility of the outside world. as to the contention that it is too soon to judge, that is of course undeniable in a sense. but in a sense it is always too soon to judge of any historical movement, because its effects and developments go on for ever. bolshevism has, no doubt, great changes ahead of it. but the last three years have afforded material for some judgments, though more definitive judgments will be possible later. and, for reasons which i have given in earlier chapters, i find it impossible to believe that later developments will realize more fully the communist ideal. if trade is opened with the outer world, there will be an almost irresistible tendency to resumption of private enterprise. if trade is not re-opened, the plans of asiatic conquest will mature, leading to a revival of yenghis khan and timur. in neither case is the purity of the communist faith likely to survive. as for the hostility of the entente, it is of course true that bolshevism might have developed very differently if it had been treated in a friendly spirit. but in view of its desire to promote world-revolution, no one could expect--and the bolsheviks certainly did not expect--that capitalist governments would be friendly. if germany had won the war, germany would have shown a hostility more effective than that of the entente. however we may blame western governments for their policy, we must realize that, according to the deterministic economic theory of the bolsheviks, no other policy was to be expected from them. other men might have been excused for not foreseeing the attitude of churchill, clemenceau and millerand; but marxians could not be excused, since this attitude was in exact accord with their own formula. we have seen the symptoms of bolshevik failure; i come now to the question of its profounder causes. everything that is worst in russia we found traceable to the collapse of industry. why has industry collapsed so utterly? and would it collapse equally if a communist revolution were to occur in a western country? russian industry was never highly developed, and depended always upon outside aid for much of its plant. the hostility of the world, as embodied in the blockade, left russia powerless to replace the machinery and locomotives worn out during the war. the need of self-defence compelled the bolsheviks to send their best workmen to the front, because they were the most reliable communists, and the loss of them rendered their factories even more inefficient than they were under kerensky. in this respect, and in the laziness and incapacity of the russian workman, the bolsheviks have had to face special difficulties which would be less in other countries. on the other hand, they have had special advantages in the fact that russia is self-supporting in the matter of food; no other country could have endured the collapse of industry so long, and no other great power except the united states could have survived years of blockade. the hostility of the world was in no way a surprise to those who made the october revolution; it was in accordance with their general theory, and its consequences should have been taken into account in making the revolution. other hostilities besides those of the outside world have been incurred by the bolsheviks with open eyes, notably the hostility of the peasants and that of a great part of the industrial population. they have attempted, in accordance with their usual contempt for conciliatory methods, to substitute terror for reward as the incentive to work. some amiable socialists have imagined that, when the private capitalist had been eliminated, men would work from a sense of obligation to the community. the bolsheviks will have none of such sentimentalism. in one of the resolutions of the ninth communist congress they say: every social system, whether based on slavery, feudalism, or capitalism, had its ways and means of labour compulsion and labour education in the interests of the exploiters. the soviet system is faced with the task of developing its own methods of labour compulsion to attain an increase of the intensity and wholesomeness of labour; this method is to be based on the socialization of public economy in the interests of the whole nation. in addition to the propaganda by which the people are to be influenced and the repressions which are to be applied to all idlers, parasites and disorganizers who strive to undermine public zeal--the principal method for the increase of production will become the introduction of the system of compulsory labour. in capitalist society rivalry assumed the character of competition and led to the exploitation of man by man. in a society where the means of production are nationalized, labour rivalry is to increase the products of labour without infringing its solidarity. rivalry between factories, regions, guilds, workshops, and individual workers should become the subject of careful organization and of close study on the side of the trade unions and the economic organs. the system of premiums which is to be introduced should become one of the most powerful means of exciting rivalry. the system of rationing of food supply is to get into line with it; so long as soviet russia suffers from insufficiency of provisions, it is only just that the industrious and conscientious worker receives more than the careless worker. it must be remembered that even the "industrious and conscientious worker" receives less food than is required to maintain efficiency. over the whole development of russia and of bolshevism since the october revolution there broods a tragic fatality. in spite of outward success the inner failure has proceeded by inevitable stages--stages which could, by sufficient acumen, have been foreseen from the first. by provoking the hostility of the outside world the bolsheviks were forced to provoke the hostility of the peasants, and finally the hostility or utter apathy of the urban and industrial population. these various hostilities brought material disaster, and material disaster brought spiritual collapse. the ultimate source of the whole train of evils lies in the bolshevik outlook on life: in its dogmatism of hatred and its belief that human nature can be completely transformed by force. to injure capitalists is not the ultimate goal of communism, though among men dominated by hatred it is the part that gives zest to their activities. to face the hostility of the world may show heroism, but it is a heroism for which the country, not its rulers, has to pay the price. in the principles of bolshevism there is more desire to destroy ancient evils than to build up new goods; it is for this reason that success in destruction has been so much greater than in construction. the desire to destroy is inspired by hatred, which is not a constructive principle. from this essential characteristic of bolshevik mentality has sprung the willingness to subject russia to its present martyrdom. it is only out of a quite different mentality that a happier world can be created. and from this follows a further conclusion. the bolshevik outlook is the outcome of the cruelty of the tsarist régime and the ferocity of the years of the great war, operating upon a ruined and starving nation maddened into universal hatred. if a different mentality is needed for the establishment of a successful communism, then a quite different conjuncture must see its inauguration; men must be persuaded to the attempt by hope, not driven to it by despair. to bring this about should be the aim of every communist who desires the happiness of mankind more than the punishment of capitalists and their governmental satellites. vii conditions for the success of communism the fundamental ideas of communism are by no means impracticable, and would, if realized, add immeasurably to the well-being of mankind. the difficulties which have to be faced are not in regard to the fundamental ideas, but in regard to the transition from capitalism. it must be assumed that those who profit by the existing system will fight to preserve it, and their fight may be sufficiently severe to destroy all that is best in communism during the struggle, as well as everything else that has value in modern civilization. the seriousness of this problem of transition is illustrated by russia, and cannot be met by the methods of the third international. the soviet government, at the present moment, is anxious to obtain manufactured goods from capitalist countries, but the third international is meanwhile endeavouring to promote revolutions which, if they occurred, would paralyse the industries of the countries concerned, and leave them incapable of supplying russian needs. the supreme condition of success in a communist revolution is that it should not paralyse industry. if industry is paralysed, the evils which exist in modern russia, or others just as great, seem practically unavoidable. there will be the problem of town and country, there will be hunger, there will be fierceness and revolts and military tyranny. all these things follow in a fatal sequence; and the end of them is almost certain to be something quite different from what genuine communists desire. if industry is to survive throughout a communist revolution, a number of conditions must be fulfilled which are not, at present, fulfilled anywhere. consider, for the sake of definiteness, what would happen if a communist revolution were to occur in england to-morrow. immediately america would place an embargo on all trade with us. the cotton industry would collapse, leaving about five million of the most productive portion of the population idle. the food supply would become inadequate, and would fail disastrously if, as is to be expected, the navy were hostile or disorganized by the sabotage of the officers. the result would be that, unless there were a counter-revolution, about half the population would die within the first twelve months. on such a basis it would evidently be impossible to erect a successful communist state. what applies to england applies, in one form or another, to the remaining countries of europe. italian and german socialists are, many of them, in a revolutionary frame of mind and could, if they chose, raise formidable revolts. they are urged by moscow to do so, but they realize that, if they did, england and america would starve them. france, for many reasons, dare not offend england and america beyond a point. thus, in every country except america, a successful communist revolution is impossible for economico-political reasons. america, being self-contained and strong, would be capable, so far as material conditions go, of achieving a successful revolution; but in america the psychological conditions are as yet adverse. there is no other civilized country where capitalism is so strong and revolutionary socialism so weak as in america. at the present moment, therefore, though it is by no means impossible that communist revolutions may occur all over the continent, it is nearly certain that they cannot be successful in any real sense. they will have to begin by a war against america, and possibly england, by a paralysis of industry, by starvation, militarism and the whole attendant train of evils with which russia has made us familiar. that communism, whenever and wherever it is adopted, will have to begin by fighting the bourgeoisie, is highly probable. the important question is not whether there is to be fighting, but how long and severe it is to be. a short war, in which communism won a rapid and easy victory, would do little harm. it is long, bitter and doubtful wars that must be avoided if anything of what makes communism desirable is to survive. two practical consequences flow from this conclusion: first, that nothing can succeed until america is either converted to communism, or at any rate willing to remain neutral; secondly, that it is a mistake to attempt to inaugurate communism in a country where the majority are hostile, or rather, where the active opponents are as strong as the active supporters, because in such a state of opinion a very severe civil war is likely to result. it is necessary to have a great body of opinion favourable to communism, and a rather weak opposition, before a really successful communist state can be introduced either by revolution or by more or less constitutional methods. it may be assumed that when communism is first introduced, the higher technical and business staff will side with the capitalists and attempt sabotage unless they have no hopes of a counter-revolution. for this reason it is very necessary that among wage-earners there should be as wide a diffusion as possible of technical and business education, so that they may be able immediately to take control of big complex industries. in this respect russia was very badly off, whereas england and america would be much more fortunate. self-government in industry is, i believe, the road by which england can best approach communism. i do not doubt that the railways and the mines, after a little practice, could be run more efficiently by the workers, from the point of view of production, than they are at present by the capitalists. the bolsheviks oppose self-government in industry every where, because it has failed in russia, and their national self-esteem prevents them from admitting that this is due to the backwardness of russia. this is one of the respects in which they are misled by the assumption that russia must be in all ways a model to the rest of the world. i would go so far as to say that the winning of self-government in such industries as railways and mining is an essential preliminary to complete communism. in england, especially, this is the case. the unions can command whatever technical skill they may require; they are politically powerful; the demand for self-government is one for which there is widespread sympathy, and could be much more with adequate propaganda; moreover (what is important with the british temperament) self-government can be brought about gradually, by stages in each trade, and by extension from one trade to another. capitalists value two things, their power and their money; many individuals among them value only the money. it is wiser to concentrate first on the power, as is done by seeking self-government in industry without confiscation of capitalist incomes. by this means the capitalists are gradually turned into obvious drones, their active functions in industry become nil, and they can be ultimately dispossessed without dislocation and without the possibility of any successful struggle on their parts. another advantage of proceeding by way of self-government is that it tends to prevent the communist régime, when it comes, from having that truly terrible degree of centralization which now exists in russia. the russians have been forced to centralize, partly by the problems of the war, but more by the shortage of all kinds of skill. this has compelled the few competent men to attempt each to do the work of ten men, which has not proved satisfactory in spite of heroic efforts. the idea of democracy has become discredited as the result first of syndicalism, and then of bolshevism. but there are two different things that may be meant by democracy: we may mean the system of parliamentary government, or we may mean the participation of the people in affairs. the discredit of the former is largely deserved, and i have no desire to uphold parliament as an ideal institution. but it is a great misfortune if, from a confusion of ideas, men come to think that, because parliaments are imperfect, there is no reason why there should be self-government. the grounds for advocating self-government are very familiar: first, that no benevolent despot can be trusted to know or pursue the interests of his subjects; second, that the practice of self-government is the only effective method of political education; third, that it tends to place the preponderance of force on the side of the constitution, and thus to promote order and stable government. other reasons could be found, but i think these are the chief. in russia self-government has disappeared, except within the communist party. if it is not to disappear elsewhere during a communist revolution, it is very desirable that there should exist already important industries competently administered by the workers themselves. the bolshevik philosophy is promoted very largely by despair of more gradual methods. but this despair is a mark of impatience, and is not really warranted by the facts. it is by no means impossible, in the near future, to secure self-government in british railways and mines by constitutional means. this is not the sort of measure which would bring into operation an american blockade or a civil war or any of the other catastrophic dangers that are to be feared from a full-fledged communist revolution in the present international situation. self-government in industry is feasible, and would be a great step towards communism. it would both afford many of the advantages of communism and also make the transition far easier without a technical break-down of production. there is another defect in the methods advocated by the third international. the sort of revolution which is recommended is never practically feasible except in a time of national misfortune; in fact, defeat in war seems to be an indispensable condition. consequently, by this method, communism will only be inaugurated where the conditions of life are difficult, where demoralization and disorganization make success almost impossible, and where men are in a mood of fierce despair very inimical to industrial construction. if communism is to have a fair chance, it must be inaugurated in a prosperous country. but a prosperous country will not be readily moved by the arguments of hatred and universal upheaval which are employed by the third international. it is necessary, in appealing to a prosperous country, to lay stress on hope rather than despair, and to show how the transition can be effected without a calamitous loss of prosperity. all this requires less violence and subversiveness, more patience and constructive propaganda, less appeal to the armed might of a determined minority. the attitude of uncompromising heroism is attractive, and appeals especially to the dramatic instinct. but the purpose of the serious revolutionary is not personal heroism, nor martyrdom, but the creation of a happier world. those who have the happiness of the world at heart will shrink from attitudes and the facile hysteria of "no parley with the enemy." they will not embark upon enterprises, however arduous and austere, which are likely to involve the martyrdom of their country and the discrediting of their ideals. it is by slower and less showy methods that the new world must be built: by industrial efforts after self-government, by proletarian training in technique and business administration, by careful study of the international situation, by a prolonged and devoted propaganda of ideas rather than tactics, especially among the wage-earners of the united states. it is not true that no gradual approaches to communism are possible: self-government in industry is an important instance to the contrary. it is not true that any isolated european country, or even the whole of the continent in unison, can, after the exhaustion produced by the war, introduce a successful form of communism at the present moment, owing to the hostility and economic supremacy of america. to find fault with those who urge these considerations, or to accuse them of faint-heartedness, is mere sentimental self-indulgence, sacrificing the good we can do to the satisfaction of our own emotions. even under present conditions in russia, it is possible still to feel the inspiration of the essential spirit of communism, the spirit of creative hope, seeking to sweep away the incumbrances of injustice and tyranny and rapacity which obstruct the growth of the human spirit, to replace individual competition by collective action, the relation of master and slave by free co-operation. this hope has helped the best of the communists to bear the harsh years through which russia has been passing, and has become an inspiration to the world. the hope is not chimerical, but it can only be realized through a more patient labour, a more objective study of facts, and above all a longer propaganda, to make the necessity of the transition obvious to the great majority of wage-earners. russian communism may fail and go under, but communism itself will not die. and if hope rather than hatred inspires its advocates, it can be brought about without the universal cataclysm preached by moscow. the war and its sequel have proved the destructiveness of capitalism; let us see to it that the next epoch does not prove the still greater destructiveness of communism, but rather its power to heal the wounds which the old evil system has inflicted upon the human spirit. _printed in great britain by_ unwin brothers, limited, the gresham press, woking and london errata p. , l. . for "teaching" read "reaching" p. , between l. and l. . insert "violence in the transition must be faced. unfortunately," p. , l. . for "dying" read "very ill" p. , last sentence. substitute "but he recovered, and i hope it will recover also." (replacing: "i hope i was mistaken in both respects.") p. , l. from below. for "waving triumphant hands and" read "expressing their delight by" p. , l. . for "professional" read "professorial" p. , l. . for "this" read "thus" p. , l. . for "losses" read "hopes" p. , l. . for "leave" read "leaves" p. , last line. substitute "which has been already discussed in chapter vi" (replacing: "which is better reserved for a separate chapter.") p. , l. for "desires" read "desire" p. , l. from below. for "caunon" read "cannon" p. , l. from below. for "by" read "in" p. , l. . for "scheme" read "schema" p. , l. . for "zenghis" read "yenghis" p. , l. . delete comma. by the same author roads to freedom principles of social reconstruction introduction to mathematical philosophy the analysis of mind * * * * * typographical errors corrected in text: page : happinesss changed to happiness page : genera to general * * * * * [every attempt has been made to replicate the original as printed. no attempt has been made to correct or normalize the spelling of non-english words. some typographical errors have been corrected; a list follows the text. (note of etext transcriber)] the british expedition to the crimea by william howard russell, ll.d. _new and revised edition_ with maps and plans london george routledge and sons the broadway, ludgate new york: , broome street +---------------------------------------+ | the indian mutiny. | | | | in crown vo, cloth, price _s._ _d._| | | | my diary in india, | | | | _in the year - _. | | | | by | | | | william howard russell, ll.d. | | | | special correspondent of "the times."| +---------------------------------------+ notice to the reader. edition of . the interest excited by the events of the campaign in the crimea has not died away. many years, indeed, must elapse ere the recital of the details of that great struggle, its glories, and its disasters, cease to revive the emotions of joy or grief with which a contemporary generation regarded the sublime efforts of their countrymen. as records on which the future history of the war must be founded, none can be more valuable than letters written from the scene, read by the light documents, such as those which will shortly be made public, can throw upon them.[ ] there may be misconception respecting the nature of the motives by which statesmen and leaders of armies are governed, but there can be no mistake as to what they _do_; and, although one cannot always ascertain the reasons which determine their outward conduct, their acts are recorded in historical memoranda not to be disputed or denied. for the first time in modern days the commanders of armies have been compelled to give to the world an exposition of the considerations by which they were actuated during a war, in which much of the sufferings of our troops was imputed to their ignorance, mismanagement, and apathy. they were not obliged to adopt that course by the orders of their superiors, but by the pressure of public opinion; and that pressure became so great that each, as he felt himself subjected to its influence, endeavoured to escape from it by throwing the blame on the shoulders of his colleagues, or on a military scapegoat, known as "the system." as each in self-defence flourished his pen or his tongue against his brother, he made sad rents in the mantle of official responsibility and secrecy. even in russia the press, to its own astonishment, was called on to expound the merits of captains and explain grand strategical operations; and the public there, read in the official organs of their government very much the same kind of matter as our british public in the evidence given before the chelsea commissioners. much of what was hidden has been revealed. we know more than we did; but we never shall know all. i avail myself of a brief leisure to revise, for the first time, letters written under very difficult circumstances, and to re-write those portions of them which relate to the most critical actions of the war. from the day the guards landed in malta down to the fall of sebastopol, and the virtual conclusion of the war, i had but one short interval of repose. i was with the first detachment of the british army which set foot on turkish soil, and it was my good fortune to land with the first at scutari, at varna, and at old fort, to be present at alma, balaklava, inkerman, to accompany the kertch and the kinburn expeditions, and to witness every great event of the siege--the assaults on sebastopol, and the battle of the tchernaya. it was my still greater good fortune to be able to leave the crimea with the last detachment of our army. my sincere desire is, to tell the truth, as far as i knew it, respecting all i have witnessed. i had no alternative but to write fully, freely, fearlessly, for that was my _duty_, and to the best of my knowledge and ability it was fulfilled. there have been many emendations, and many versions of incidents in the war, sent to me from various hands--many now cold forever--of which i have made use, but the work is chiefly based on the letters which, by permission of the proprietors of the _times_, i was allowed to place in a new form before the public. w. h. russell. _july, ._ preface to the edition of . for several years the "history of the british expedition to the crimea," founded on the "letters from the crimea of the _times_ correspondent," has been out of print, and the publishers have been unable to execute orders continually arriving for copies of the work. at the present moment the interest of the public in what is called the eastern question has been revived very forcibly, and the policy of this country in entering upon the war of , has been much discussed in the press and in parliament. "bulgaria,"[ ] in which the allied armies failed to discover the misery or discontent which might, at the time, have been found in ireland or italy, is now the scene of "atrocities," the accounts of which are exercising a powerful influence on the passions and the judgment of the country, and the balance of public opinion is fast inclining against the turk, for whom we made so many sacrifices, and who proved that he was a valiant soldier and a faithful and patient ally. the treaty of paris has been torn up, the pieces have been thrown in our faces, and a powerful party in england is taking, in , energetic action to promote the objects which we so strenuously resisted in . "qui facit per alium facit per se." prince gortschakoff must be very grateful for effective help where count nesselrode encountered the most intense hostility. he finds "sympathy" as strong as gunpowder, and sees a chance of securing the spoils of war without the cost of fighting for them. since - the map of europe has undergone changes almost as great as those temporary alterations which endured with the success of the first french empire, and these apparently are but the signs and tokens of changes to come, of which no man can forecast the extent and importance. the british fleet is once more in besika bay, but there is now no allied squadron by its side. no british minister ventures to say that our fleet is stationed there to protect the integrity of turkey. if the record of what great britain did in her haste twenty-two years ago be of any use in causing her to reflect on the consequences of a violent reaction now, the publication of this revised edition of the "history of the expedition to the crimea," may not be quite inopportune. w. h. russell. temple, _august, _. _note._--_in addition to the despatches relating to the landing in the crimea, the battles of the alma, balaklava, inkerman, and the tchernaya, the assaults on the place, &c., there will be found in the present edition the text of the most important clauses of the treaty of paris in , the correspondence between prince gortschakoff and lord granville on the denunciation of the treaty in , &c._ contents. book i. the concentration of the british troops in turkey--their camps and camp-life at gallipoli, scutari, and in bulgaria..... book ii. departure of the expedition for the crimea--the landing--the march--the affair of barljanak--the battle of the alma--the flank march..... book iii. the commencement of the siege--the first bombardment--its failure--the battle of balaklava--cavalry charge--the battle of inkerman--its consequences..... book iv. preparations for a winter campaign--the hurricane--the condition of the army--the trenches in winter--balaklava--the commissariat and medical staff..... book v. the commencement of active operations--the spring--reinforcements--the second bombardment--its failure--third bombardment, and failure--period of preparation..... book vi. combined attacks on the enemy's counter approaches--capture of the quarries and mamelon--the assault of the th of june--lord raglan's death..... book vii. efforts to raise the siege--battle of the tchernaya--the second assault--capture of the malakoff--retreat of the russians to the north side..... book viii. the attitude of the two armies--the demonstrations from baidar--the reconnaissance--the march from eupatoria--its failure--the expedition to kinburn and odessa..... book ix. the winter--position of the french--the turkish contingent--preparations for the next campaign--the armistice--the peace and the evacuation..... appendix..... the british expedition to the crimea. book i. chapter i. causes of the quarrel--influence of the press--preparations--departure from england--malta--warnings. the causes of the last war with russia, overwhelmed by verbiage, and wrapped up in coatings of protocols and dispatches, at the time are now patent to the world. the independence of turkey was menaced by the czar, but france and england would have cared little if turkey had been a power whose fate could affect in no degree the commerce or the reputation of the allies. france, ever jealous of her prestige, was anxious to uphold the power of a nation and a name which, to the oriental, represents the force, intelligence, and civilization of europe. england, with a growing commerce in the levant, and with a prodigious empire nearer to the rising sun, could not permit the one to be absorbed and the other to be threatened by a most aggressive and ambitious state. with russia, and france by her side, she had not hesitated to inflict a wound on the independence of turkey which had been growing deeper every day. but when insatiable russia, impatient of the slowness of the process, sought to rend the wounds of the dying man, england felt bound to stay her hands, and to prop the falling throne of the sultan. although england had nothing to do with the quarrels of the greek and latin churches, she could not be indifferent to the results of the struggle. if russia had been permitted to exercise a protectorate over the greek subjects of the porte, and to hold as material guarantee the provinces of the danube, she would be the mistress of the bosphorus, the dardanelles, and even the mediterranean. france would have seen her moral weight in the east destroyed. england would have been severed from her indian empire, and menaced in the outposts of her naval power. all christian states have now a right to protect the christian subjects of the porte; and in proportion as the latter increase in intelligence, wealth, and numbers, the hold of the osmanli on europe will relax. the sick man is not yet dead, but his heirs and administrators are counting their share of his worldly goods, and are preparing for the suit which must follow his demise. whatever might have been the considerations and pretences which actuated our statesmen, the people of england entered, with honesty of purpose and singleness of heart, upon the conflict with the sole object of averting a blow aimed at an old friend. to that end they devoted their treasure, and in that cause they freely shed their blood. conscious of their integrity, the nation began the war with as much spirit and energy as they continued it with calm resolution and manly self-reliance. their rulers were lifted up by the popular wave, and carried further than they listed. the vessel of the state was nearly dashed to pieces by the great surge, and our dislocated battalions, swept together and called an army, were suddenly plunged into the realities of war. but the british soldier is ready to meet mortal foes. what he cannot resist are the cruel strokes of neglect and mal-administration. in the excitement caused by the news of victory the heart's pulse of the nation was almost frozen by a bitter cry of distress from the heights of sebastopol. then followed accounts of horrors which revived the memories of the most disgraceful episodes in our military history. men who remembered walcheren sought in vain for a parallel to the wretchedness and mortality in our army. the press, faithful to its mission, threw a full light on scenes three thousand miles from our shores, and sustained the nation by its counsels. "had it not been for the english press," said an austrian officer of high rank, "i know not what would have become of the english army. ministers in parliament denied that it suffered, and therefore parliament would not have helped it. the french papers represented it as suffering, but neither hoping nor enduring. europe heard that marshal st. arnaud won the alma, and that the english, aided by french guns, late in the day, swarmed up the heights when their allies had won the battle. we should have known only of inkerman as a victory gained by the french coming to the aid of surprised and discomfited englishmen, and of the assaults on sebastopol as disgraceful and abortive, but your press, in a thousand translations, told us the truth all over europe, and enabled us to appreciate your valour, your discipline, your _élan_, your courage and patience, and taught us to feel that even in misfortune the english army was noble and magnificent." [sidenote: departure of the guards.] the press upheld the ministry in its efforts to remedy the effects of an unwise and unreasoning parsimony, prepared the public mind for the subversion of an effete system, encouraged the nation in the moment of depression by recitals of the deeds of our countrymen, elevated the condition and self-respect of the soldiery, and whilst celebrating with myriad tongues the feats of the combatants in the ranks, with all the fire of tyrtæus, but with greater power and happier results, denounced the men responsible for huge disasters--"told the truth and feared not"--carried the people to the battlefield--placed them beside their bleeding comrades--spoke of fame to the dying and of hope to those who lived--and by its magic power spanned great seas and continents, and bade england and her army in the crimea endure, fight, and conquer together. the army saved, resuscitated, and raised to a place which it never occupied till recently in the estimation of the country, has much for which to thank the press. had its deeds and sufferings never been known except through the medium of frigid dispatches, it would have stood in a very different position this day, not only abroad but at home. but gratitude is not a virtue of corporations. it is rare enough to find it in individuals; and, although the press has permission to exhaust laudation and flattery, its censure is resented as impertinence. from the departure of our first battalions till the close of the war, there were occasions on which the shortcomings of great departments and the inefficiency of extemporary arrangements were exposed beyond denial or explanation; and if the optimist is satisfied they were the inevitable consequences of all human organization, the mass of mankind will seek to provide against their recurrence and to obviate their results. with all their hopes, the people at the outset were little prepared for the costs and disasters of war. they fondly believed they were a military power, because they possessed invincible battalions of brave men, officered by gallant, high-spirited gentlemen, who, for the most part, regarded with dislike the calling, and disdained the knowledge, of the mere "professional" soldier. there were no reserves to take the place of those dauntless legions which melted in the crucible of battle, and left a void which time alone could fill. when the guards[ ] left london, on nd february, , those who saw them march off to the railway station, unaccustomed to the sight of large bodies of men, and impressed by the bearing of those stalwart soldiers, might be pardoned if they supposed the household troops could encounter a world in arms. as they were the first british regiments which left england for the east, as they bore a grand part worthy of their name in the earlier, most trying, and most glorious period of our struggles, their voyage possesses a certain interest which entitles it to be retained in this revised history; and with some few alterations, it is presented to the reader. their cheers--re-echoed from alma and inkerman--bear now a glorious significance, the "_morituri te salutant_" of devoted soldiers addressed to their sorrowing country. "they will never go farther than malta!"--such was the general feeling and expression at the time. it was supposed that the very news of their arrival in malta would check the hordes of russia, and shake the iron will which broke ere it would bend. to that march, in less than one year, there was a terrible antithesis. a handful of weary men--wasted and worn and ragged--crept slowly down from the plateau of inkerman where their comrades lay thick in frequent graves, and sought the cheerless shelter of the hills of balaklava. they had fought and had sickened and died till that proud brigade had nearly ceased to exist. the swarm of red-coats which after a day of marching, of excitement, of leave-taking, and cheering, buzzed over the _orinoco_, _ripon_, _manilla_, in southampton docks, was hived at last in hammock or blanket, while the vessels rode quietly in the waters of the solent. fourteen inches is man-of-war allowance, but eighteen inches were allowed for the guards. on the following morning, february rd, the steamers weighed and sailed. the _ripon_ was off by o'clock a.m., followed by the _manilla_ and the _orinoco_. they were soon bowling along with a fresh n.w. breeze in the channel. good domestic beef, sea-pudding, and excellent bread, with pea-soup every second day, formed substantial pieces of resistance to the best appetites. half a gill of rum to two of water was served out once a day to each man. on the first day tom firelock was rather too liberal to his brother jack tar. on the next occasion, the ponderous sergeant-major of the grenadiers presided over the grog-tub, and delivered the order, "men served--two steps to the front, and swallow!" the men were not insubordinate. the second day the long swell of biscay began to tell on the guards. the figure-heads of the ships plunged deep, and the heads of the soldiers hung despondingly over gunwale, portsill, stay, and mess-tin, as their bodies bobbed to and fro. at night they brightened up, and when the bugle sounded at nine o'clock, nearly all were able to crawl into their hammocks for sleep. on saturday the speed of the vessels was increased from nine-and-a-half to ten knots per hour; and the little _manilla_ was left by the large paddle-wheel steamers far away. on sunday all the men had recovered; and when, at half-past ten, the ship's company and troops were mustered for prayers, they looked as fresh as could be expected under the circumstances;--in fact, as the day advanced, they became lively, and the sense of joyfulness for release from the clutches of their enemy was so strong that in reply to a stentorian demand for "three cheers for the jolly old whale!" they cheered a grampus which blew alongside. [sidenote: arrival at malta.] on tuesday the _ripon_ passed tarifa, at fifty minutes past five a.m., and anchored in the quarantine ground of gibraltar to coal half-an-hour afterwards. in consequence of the quarantine regulations there was no communication with the shore, but the soldiers lined the walls, h.m.s. _cruiser_ manned yards, and as the _ripon_ steamed off at half-past three p.m., after taking on board coals, tents and tent-poles, they gave three hearty cheers, which were replied to with goodwill. on thursday a target painted like a russian soldier was run up for practice. the _orinoco_ reached malta on sunday morning at ten a.m., and the _ripon_ on saturday night soon after twelve o'clock. the coldstreams were disembarked in the course of the day, and the grenadiers were all ashore ere monday evening, to the delight of the maltese, who made a harvest from the excursions of the "plenty big men" to and from the town. the _manilla_ arrived at malta on the morning of march th, after a run of eighteen days from southampton. the men left their floating prisons only to relinquish comfort and to "rough it." one regiment was left without coals, another had no lights or candles, another suffered from cold under canvas, in some cases short commons tried the patience of the men, and forage was not to be had for the officers' horses. acting on the old formula when transports took eight weeks to malta, the admiralty supplied steamers which make the passage in as many days with eight weeks' "medical comforts." by a rigid order, the officers were debarred from bringing more than lb. weight of baggage. many of them omitted beds, canteen and mess traps, and were horror-stricken when they were politely invited to pitch their tents and "make themselves comfortable" on the ravelins, outside valetta. the arrival of the _himalaya_ before midnight on the same day, after a run of seven days and three hours from plymouth, with upwards of , men on board, afforded good proof of our transport resources. ordinary troop-ships would have taken at least six weeks, and of course it would have cost the government a proportionate sum for their maintenance, while they were wasting precious moments, fighting against head winds. the only inconvenience attendant on this great celerity is, that many human creatures, with the usual appetites of the species, are rapidly collected upon one spot, and supplies can scarcely be procured to meet the demand. the increase of meat-consuming animals at malta nearly produced the effects of a famine; there were only four hundred head of cattle left in the island and its dependencies, and with a population of , --with the brigade of guards and regiments in garrison, and three frigates to feed, it may easily be imagined that the commissariat were severely taxed to provide for this influx. the _simoom_, with the scots fusileer guards, sixteen days from portsmouth, reached malta on the th of march. the troops were disembarked the following day, in excellent order. a pile of low buildings running along the edge of the quarantine harbour, with abundance of casements, sheltered terraces, piazzas, and large arched rooms, was soon completely filled. the men in spite of the local derangements caused on their arrival by "liberty" carousing in acid wine and fiery brandy, enjoyed good health, though the average of disease was rather augmented by the results of an imprudent use of the time allowed to them in london, to bid good-bye to their friends. for the three last weeks in march, valetta was like a fair. money circulated briskly. every tradesman was busy, and the pressure of demand raised the cost of supply. saddlers, tinmen, outfitters, tailors, shoemakers, cutlers, increased their charges till they attained the west-end scale. boatmen and the amphibious harpies who prey upon the traveller reaped a copper and silver harvest of great weight. it must, however, be said of malta boatmen, that they are a hardworking, patient, and honest race; the latter adjective is applied comparatively, and not absolutely. they would set our portsmouth or southampton boatmen an example rather to be wondered at than followed. the vendors of oranges, dates, olives, apples, and street luxuries of all kinds, enjoyed a full share of public favour; and (a proof of the fine digestive apparatus of our soldiery) their lavish enjoyment of these delicacies was unattended by physical suffering. a thirsty private, after munching the ends of minié cartridges for an hour on the hot rocks at the seaside, would send to the rear and buy four or five oranges for a penny. he ate them all, trifled with an apple or two afterwards, and, duty over, rushed across the harbour or strutted off to valetta. a cool _café_, shining out on the street with its tarnished gilding and mirrors more radiant than all the taps of all our country inns put together, invited him to enter, and a quantity of alcoholic stimulus was supplied, at the small charge of one penny, quite sufficient to encourage him to spend two-pence more on the same stuff, till he was rendered insensible to all sublunary cares, and brought to a state which was certain to induce him to the attention of the guard and to a raging headache. "i can live like a duke here--i can smoke my cigar, and drink my glass of wine, and what could a duke do more?" but the cigar made by very dirty manufacturers, who might be seen sitting out in the streets compounding them of the leaves of plants and saliva was villanous; and the wine endured much after it had left sicily. as to the brandy and spirits, they were simply abominable, but the men were soon "choked off" when they found that indulgence in them was followed by punishment worse than that of the black hole or barrack confinement. the biscuit mills were baking , lb. of biscuit per day. bills posted in every street for "parties desirous of joining the commissariat department, under the orders of commissary-general filder, about to proceed with the force to the east, as temporary clerks, assistant store-keepers, interpreters," to "freely apply to assistant commissary-general strickland;" had this significant addition,--"those conversant with english, italian, modern greek, and turkish languages, or the lingua-franca of the east will be preferred." warlike mechanics, armourers, farriers, wheelwrights, waggon-equipment and harness-makers, were in request. [sidenote: warnings.] as might naturally be expected where so great a demand, horses were scarcely to be obtained. to tunis the contagion of high prices spread from malta, and the moors asked £ and £ for the veriest bundles of skin and bone that were ever fastened together by muscle and pluck. our allies began to show themselves. the _christophe colomb_, steam-sloop, towing the _mistral_, a small sailing transport, laden with soldiers' and officers' horses arrived in malta harbour on the night of the th, and ran into the grand harbour at six a.m. the following morning. on board were lieutenant-general canrobert, and his chef d'État; major lieutenant-general martimprey, officers, soldiers, horses. their reception was most enthusiastic. the french generals were lodged at the palace, and their soldiers were fêted in every tavern. reviews were held in their honour, and the air rang with the friendly shouts and answering cheers of "natural enemies". in a few days after the arrival of the guards, it became plain that the allies were to proceed to turkey, and that hostilities were inevitable. on the th march war was declared, but the preparations for it showed that the government had looked upon war as certain some time previously. every exertion was made by the authorities to enable the expedition to take the field. general ferguson and admiral houston stewart received the expression of the duke of newcastle's satisfaction at the manner in which they co-operated in making "the extensive preparations for the reception of the expeditionary force, which could only have been successfully carried on by the absence of needless departmental etiquette,"--a virtue which has been expected to become more common after this official laudation. this expression of satisfaction was well deserved by both these gallant officers, and sir w. reid emulated them in his exertions to secure the comfort of the troops. the admiral early and late worked with his usual energy. he had a _modus operandi_ of making the conditional mood mean the imperative. soldiers were stowed away in sailors' barracks and penned up in hammocks under its potent influence; and ships were cleared of their freight, or laden with a fresh one, with extraordinary facility. it was at this time that in a letter to the _times_ i wrote as follows:--"with our men well clothed, well fed, well housed (whether in camp or town does not much matter), and well attended to, there is little to fear. they were all in the best possible spirits, and fit to go anywhere, and perhaps to do anything. but inaction might bring listlessness and despondency, and in their train follows disease. what is most to be feared in an encampment is an enemy that musket and bayonet cannot meet or repel. of this the records of the russo-turkish campaign of - , in which , men perished by 'plague, pestilence, and famine,' afford a fearful lesson, and let those who have the interests of the army at heart just turn to moltke's history of that miserable invasion, and they will grudge no expense, and spare no precaution, to avoid, as far as human skill can do it, a repetition of such horrors. let us have plenty of doctors. let us have an overwhelming army of medical men to combat disease. let us have a staff--full and strong--of young and active and experienced men. do not suffer our soldiers to be killed by antiquated imbecility. do not hand them over to the mercies of ignorant etiquette and effete seniority, but give the sick every chance which skill, energy, and abundance of the best specifics can afford them. the heads of departments may rest assured that the country will grudge no expense on this point, nor on any other connected with the interest and efficiency of the _corps d'élite_ which england has sent from her shores.[ ] there were three first-class staff-surgeons at constantinople--messrs. dumbreck linton, and mitchell. at malta there were--dr. burrell, at the head of the department; dr. alexander, dr. tice, mr. smith, and a great accession was expected every day." the commissariat department appeared to be daily more efficient, and every possible effort was made to secure proper supplies for the troops. this, however, was a matter that could be best tested in the field. on tuesday, the th of march, the _montezuma_, and the _albatross_ with chasseurs, zouaves, and horses, arrived in the great harbour. the zouave was then an object of curiosity. the quarters of the men were not by any means so good as our own. a considerable number had to sleep on deck, and in rain or sea-way they must have been wet. their kit seemed very light. the officers did not carry many necessaries, and the average weight of their luggage was not more than lb. they were all in the highest spirits, and looked forward eagerly to their first brush in company with the english. sir george brown and staff arrived on the th in the _valetta_. the nd battalion rifle brigade, the advance of the light division, which sir george brown was to command, embarked on board the _golden fleece_. on the th, sir john burgoyne arrived from constantinople in the _caradoc_. the _pluton_ and another vessel arrived with zouaves and the usual freight of horses the same day, and the streets were full of scarlet and blue uniforms walking arm and arm together in uncommunicative friendliness, their conversation being carried on by signs, such as pointing to their throats and stomachs, to express the primitive sensations of hunger and thirst. the french sailed the following day for gallipoli. when the declaration of war reached malta, the excitement was indescribable. crowds assembled on the shores of the harbours and lined the quays and landing-places, the crash of music drowned in the enthusiastic cheers of the soldiers cheering their comrades as the vessels glided along, the cheers from one fort being taken up by the troops in the others, and as joyously responded to from those on board. chapter ii. departure of the first portion of the british expedition from malta--sea passage--classical antiquities--caught in a levanter--the dardanelles--gallipoli--gallipoli described--turkish architecture--superiority of the french arrangements--close shaving, tight stocking, and light marching. [sidenote: departure from malta.] whilst the french were rapidly moving to gallipoli, the english were losing the prestige which might have been earned by a first appearance on the stage, as well as the substantial advantages of an occupation of the town. but on th march sir george brown and staff, the nd battalion of the rifle brigade, under lt. colonel lawrence, colonel victor, r.e., captain gibb, r.e., and two companies of sappers, embarked in the _golden fleece_, and a cabin having been placed at my disposal, i embarked and sailed with them for gallipoli, at five a.m. on st. an early fisherman, a boatman in the great harbour, solitary sentinels perched here and there on the long lines of white bastions, were the only persons who saw the departure of the advanced guard of the only british expedition that has ever sailed to the land of the moslem since the days of the great plantagenet. the morning was dark and overcast. the mediterranean assumed an indigo colour, stippled with patches of white foam, as heavy squalls of wind and drenching rain flew over its surface. the showers were tropical in their vehemence and suddenness. nothing was visible except some wretched-looking gulls flapping in our wake hour after hour in the hope of unintentional contributions from the ship, and two or three dilapidated coasters running as hard as they could for the dangerous shelter of the land. jason himself and his crew could scarcely have looked more uncomfortable than the men, though there was small resemblance indeed between the cruiser in which he took his passage and the _golden fleece_. "it all comes of sailing on a friday," said a grumbling forecastle jack. the anticipations of the tarry prophet were not fully justified. towards evening the sky cleared, the fine sharp edge of the great circle of waters of which we were the black murky centre, revealed itself, and the sun rushed out of his coat of _cumuli_, all bright and fervent, and sank to rest in a sea of fire. even the gulls brightened up and began to look comfortable, and the sails of the flying craft, far away on the verge of the landscape, shone white. the soldiers dried their coats, and tried to forget sloppy decks and limited exercise ground, and night closed round the ship with peace and hilarity on her wings. as the moon rose a wonder appeared in the heavens--"a blazing comet with a fiery tail," which covered five or six degrees of the horizon, and shone through the deep blue above. here was the old world-known omen of war and troubles! many as they gazed felt the influence of ancient tales and associated the lurid apparition with the convulsion impending over europe, though mr. hind and professor airy and sir j. south might have proved to demonstration that the comet aforesaid was born or baptized in space hundreds of centuries before prince menschikoff was thought of. at last the comet was lost in the moon's light, and the gazers put out their cigars, forgot their philosophy and their fears, and went to bed. the next day, saturday ( st april), passed as most days do at sea in smooth weather. the men ate and drank, and walked on deck till they were able to eat and drink again, and so on till bed time. curious little brown owls, as if determined to keep up the traditions of the neighbourhood, flew on board, and were caught in the rigging. they seemed to come right from the land of minerva. in the course of the day small birds fluttered on the yards, masts, and bulwarks, plumed their jaded wings, and after a short rest launched themselves once more across the bosom of the deep. some were common titlarks, others greyish buntings, others yellow and black fellows. three of the owls and a titlark were at once introduced to each other in a cage, and the ship's cat was thrown in by way of making an _impromptu_ "happy family." the result rather increased one's admiration for the itinerant zoologist of trafalgar-square and waterloo bridge, inasmuch as pussy obstinately refused to hold any communication with the owls--they seemed in turn to hate each other--and all evinced determined animosity towards the unfortunate titlark, which speedily languished and died. this and the following day there was a head wind. no land appeared, and the only object to be seen was a french paddle-wheel steamer with troops on board and a transport in tow, which was conjectured to be one of those that had left malta some days previously. after dinner, when the band had ceased playing, the sappers assembled on the quarter-deck, and sang glees excellently well, while the rifles had a select band of vocal performers of their own of comic and sentimental songs. some of these, _à propos_ of the expedition, were rather hard on the guards and their bearskins. at daylight the coast was visible n. by e.--a heavy cloudlike line resting on the grey water. it was the morea--the old land of the messenians. if not greatly changed, it is wonderful what attractions it could have had for the spartans. a more barren-looking coast one need not wish to see. it is like a section of the west coast of sutherland in winter. the mountains--cold, rocky, barren ridges of land--culminate in snow-covered peaks, and the numerous villages of white cabins or houses dotting the declivity towards the sea did not relieve the place of an air of savage primitiveness, which little consorted with its ancient fame. about . a.m. we passed cape matapan, which concentrated in itself all the rude characteristics of the surrounding coast. we passed between the morea and cerigo. one could not help wondering what on earth could have possessed venus to select such a wretched rock for her island home. verily the poets have much to answer for. not the boldest would have dared to fly into ecstasies about the terrestrial landing-place of venus had he once beheld the same. the fact is, the place is like ireland's eye, pulled out and expanded. although the whole reputation of the cape was not sustained by our annihilation, the sea showed every inclination to be troublesome, and the wind began to rise. after breakfast the men were mustered, and the captain read prayers. when prayers were over, we had a proof that the greeks were tolerably right about the weather. even bolder boatmen than the ancients might fear the heavy squalls off these snowy headlands, which gave a bad idea of sunny greece in early spring. their writers represented the performance of a voyage round capes matapan and malea as attended with danger; and, if the best of triremes was caught in the breeze encountered by the _golden fleece_ hereabouts, the crew would never have been troubled to hang up a votive tablet to their preserving deity. [sidenote: caught in a levanter.] from o'clock till . p.m. the ship ran along the diameter of the semicircle between the two capes which mark the southern extremities of greece. cape malea, or st. angelo, is just such another bluff, mountainous, and desolate headland as cape matapan, and is not so civilized-looking, for there are no villages visible near it. however, in a hole on its south-east face resides a greek hermit, who must have enormous opportunities for improving his mind, if zimmerman be at all trustworthy. he is not quite lost to the calls of nature, and has a great tenderness for ships' biscuit. he generally hoists a little flag when a vessel passes near, and is often gratified by a supply of hard-bake. had we wished to administer to his luxuries we could not have done so, for the wind off this angle rushed at us with fury, and the instant we rounded it we saw the sea broken into crests of foam making right at our bows. the old mariners were not without warranty when they advised "him who doubled cape malea to forget his home." we had got right into the etesian wind--one of those violent levanters which the learned among us said ought to be the euroclydon which drove st. paul to malta. sheltered as we were to eastward by clusters of little islands, the sea got up and rolled in confused wedges towards the ship. she behaved nobly, but with her small auxiliary steam power she could scarcely hold her own. we were driven away to leeward, and did not make much headway. the gusts came down furiously between all kinds of classical islands, which we could not make out, for our maltese pilot got frightened, and revealed the important secret that he did not know one of them from the other. the men bore up well against their euroclydon, and emulated the conduct of the ship. night came upon us, labouring in black jolting seas, dashing them into white spray, and running away into dangerous unknown parts. it passed songless, dark, and uncomfortable: much was the suffering in the hermetically sealed cells in which our officers "reposed" and grumbled at fortune. at daylight next morning, falconero was north, and milo south. the clouds were black and low, the sea white and high, and the junction between them on the far horizon of a broken and promiscuous character. the good steamer had run thirty miles to leeward of her course, making not the smallest progress. grey islets with foam flying over them lay around indistinctly seen through the driving vapour from the Ægean. to mistrust of the pilot fear of accident was added, so the helm was put up, and we wore ship at . a.m. in a heavy sea-way. a screw-steamer was seen on our port quarter plunging through the heavy sea, and we made her out to be the _cape of good hope_. she followed our example. the gale increased till a.m.; the sailors considered it deserved to be called "stormy, with heavy squalls." the heavy sea on our starboard quarter, as we approached malea, caused the ship to roll heavily; the men could only hold on by tight grip, and they and their officers were well drenched by great lumbering water louts, who tossed themselves in over the bulwarks. at . p.m., the ship cast anchor in vatika bay, in twenty fathoms. a french steamer and brig lay close in the shore. we cheered them vigorously, but the men could not hear us. some time afterwards the _cape of good hope_ and a french screw-steamer also ran in and anchored near us. this little flotilla alarmed the inhabitants, for the few who were fishing in boats fled to shore, and we saw a great effervescence at a distant village. no doubt the apparition in the bay of a force flying the tricolor and the union-jack frightened the people. they could be seen running to and fro along the shore like ants when their nest is stirred. at dusk our bands played, and the mountains of the morea, for the first time since they rose from the sea, echoed the strains of "god save the queen." our vocalists assembled, and sang glees or vigorous choruses, and the night passed pleasantly in smooth water on an even keel. the people lighted bonfires upon the hills, but the lights soon died out. at six o'clock on tuesday morning the _golden fleece_ left vatika bay, and passed poulo bello at . a.m. the greek coast trending away to the left, showed in rugged masses of mountains capped by snowy peaks, and occasionally the towns--clusters of white specks on the dark purple of the hills--were visible; and before evening, the ship having run safely through all the terrors of the Ægean and its islands, bore away for the entrance to the dardanelles. at a.m. on wednesday morning, however, it began to blow furiously again, the wind springing up as if "Æolus had just opened and put on fresh hands at the bellows," to use the nautical simile. the breeze, however, went down in a few hours, with the same rapidity with which it rose. smooth seas greeted the ship as she steamed by mitylene. on the left lay the entrance to the gulf of athens--euboea was on our left hand--tenedos was before us--on our right rose the snowy heights of mount ida--and the troad (atrociously and unforgivably like the "bog of allen!") lay stretching its brown folds, dotted with rare tumuli, from the sea to the mountain side for leagues away. athos (said to be ninety miles distant) stood between us and the setting sun--a pyramid of purple cloud bathed in golden light; and the _leander_ frigate showed her number and went right away in the very waters that lay between sestos and abydos, past the shadow of the giant mountain, stretching away on our port beam. as the vessel entered the portals of the dardanelles, and rushed swiftly up between its dark banks, the sentinels on the forts and along the ridges challenged loudly--shouting to each other to be on the alert--the band of the rifles all the while playing the latest fashionable polkas, or making the rocks acquainted with "rule britannia," and "god save the queen." at . p.m., our ship passed the castles of the dardanelles. she was not stopped nor fired at, but the sentinels screeched horribly and showed lights, and seemed to execute a convulsive _pas_ of fright or valour on the rocks. the only reply was the calm sounding of second post on the bugles--the first time that the blast of english light infantry trumpets broke the silence of those antique shores.[ ] [sidenote: gallipoli.] after midnight we arrived at gallipoli, and anchored. no one took the slightest notice of us, nor was any communication made with shore. when the _golden fleece_ arrived there was no pilot to show her where to anchor, and it was nearly an hour ere she ran out her cable in nineteen fathoms water. no one came off, for it was after midnight, and there was something depressing in this silent reception of the first british army that ever landed on the shores of these straits. when morning came we only felt sorry that nature had made gallipoli, a desirable place for us to land at. the tricolor was floating right and left, and the blue coats of the french were well marked on shore, the long lines of bullock-carts stealing along the strand towards their camp making it evident that they were taking care of themselves. take some hundreds of dilapidated farms, outhouses, a lot of rickety tenements of holywell-street, wych-street, and the borough--catch up, wherever you can, any of the seedy, cracked, shutterless structures of planks and tiles to be seen in our cathedral towns--carry off odd sheds and stalls from billingsgate, add to them a selection of the huts along the thames between london-bridge and greenwich--bring them, then, all together to the european side of the straits of the dardanelles, and having pitched on a bare round hill sloping away to the water's edge, on the most exposed portion of the coast, with scarcely tree or shrub, tumble them "higgledy piggledy" on its declivity, in such wise that the lines of the streets may follow on a large scale the lines of a bookworm through some old tome--let the roadways be very narrow, of irregular breadth, varying according to the bulgings and projections of the houses, and paved with large round slippery stones, painful and hazardous to walk upon--here and there borrow a dirty gutter from a back street in boulogne--let the houses lean across to each other so that the tiles meet, or a plank thrown across forms a sort of "passage" or arcade--steal some of the popular monuments of london, the shafts of national testimonials, a half dozen of irish round towers--surround these with a light gallery about twelve feet from the top, put on a large extinguisher-shaped roof, paint them white, and having thus made them into minarets, clap them down into the maze of buildings--then let fall big stones all over the place--plant little windmills with odd-looking sails on the crests of the hill over the town--transport the ruins of a feudal fortress from northern italy, and put it into the centre of the town, with a flanking tower at the water's edge--erect a few wooden cribs by the waterside to serve as _café_, custom-house, and government stores--and, when you have done this, you have to all appearance imitated the process by which gallipoli was created. the receipt, if tried, will be found to answer beyond belief. to fill up the scene, however, you must catch a number of the biggest breeched, longest bearded, dirtiest, and stateliest old turks to be had at any price in the ottoman empire; provide them with pipes, keep them smoking all day on wooden stages or platforms about two feet from the ground, everywhere by the water's edge or up the main streets, in the shops of the bazaar which is one of the "passages" or arcades already described; see that they have no slippers on, nothing but stout woollen hose, their foot gear being left on the ground, shawl turbans (one or two being green, for the real descendant of the prophet), flowing fur-lined coats, and bright-hued sashes, in which are to be stuck silver-sheathed yataghans and ornamented damascus pistols; don't let them move more than their eyes, or express any emotion at the sight of anything except an english lady; then gather a noisy crowd of fez-capped greeks in baggy blue breeches, smart jackets, sashes, and rich vests--of soberly-dressed armenians--of keen-looking jews, with flashing eyes--of chasseurs de vincennes, zouaves, british riflemen, _vivandières_, sappers and miners, nubian slaves, camel-drivers, commissaries and sailors, and direct them in streams round the little islets on which the smoking turks are harboured, and you will populate the place. it will be observed that women are not mentioned in this description, but children were not by any means wanting--on the contrary, there was a glut of them, in the greek quarter particularly, and now and then a bundle of clothes, in yellow leather boots, covered at the top with a piece of white linen, might be seen moving about, which you will do well to believe contained a woman neither young nor pretty. dogs, so large, savage, tailless, hairy, and curiously-shaped, that wombwell could make a fortune out of them if aided by any clever zoological nomenclator, prowled along the shore and walked through the shallow water, in which stood bullocks and buffaloes, french steamers and transports, with the tricolor flying, and the paddlebox boats full of troops on their way to land--a solitary english steamer, with the red ensign, at anchor in the bay--and greek polaccas, with their beautiful white sails and trim rig, flying down the straits, which are here about three and a half miles broad, so that the villages on the rich swelling hills of the asia minor side are plainly visible,--must be added, and then the picture will be tolerably complete. in truth, gallipoli is a wretched place--picturesque to a degree, but, like all picturesque things or places, horribly uncomfortable. the breadth of the dardanelles is about five miles opposite the town, but the asiatic and the european coasts run towards each other just ere the straits expand into the sea of marmora. the country behind the town is hilly, and at the time of our arrival had not recovered from the effects of the late very severe weather, being covered with patches of snow. gallipoli is situated on the narrowest portion of the tongue of land or peninsula which, running between the gulf of saros on the west and the dardanelles on the east, forms the western side of the strait. an army encamped here commands the Ægean and the sea of marmora, and can be marched northwards to the balkan, or sent across to asia or up to constantinople with equal facility. [sidenote: superiority of french arrangements.] as the crow flies, it is about miles from constantinople across the sea of marmora. if the capital were in danger, troops could be sent there in a few days, and our army and fleet effectually commanded the dardanelles and the entrance to the sea of marmora, and made it a _mare clausum_. enos, a small town, on a spit of land opposite the mouth of the maritza, on the coast of turkey to the north-east of samothrace, was surveyed and examined for an encampment by french and english engineers. it is obvious that if some daring muscovite general forcing the passage across the danube were to beat the turks and cross the western ridges of the balkans, he might advance southwards with very little hindrance to the Ægean; and a dashing march to the south-east would bring his troops to the western shore of the dardanelles. an army at gallipoli could check such a movement, if it ever entered into the head of any one to attempt to put it in practice. early on the morning after the arrival of the _golden fleece_ a boat came off with two commissariat officers, turner and bartlett, and an interpreter. the consul had gone up the dardanelles to look for us. the general desired to send for the consul, but the only vessel available was a small turkish imperial steamer. the consul's dragoman, a grand-looking israelite, was ready to go, but the engineer had just managed to break his leg. he requested the loan of our engineer, as no one could be found to undertake the care of the steamer's engines. after breakfast, lieutenant-general brown, colonel sullivan, captain hallewell, and captain whitmore, started to visit the pasha of adrianople (rustum pasha), who was sent here to facilitate the arrangements and debarkation of the troops. on their return, about half-past two o'clock, lieutenant-general canrobert came on board the vessel, and was received by the lieutenant-general. the visit lasted an hour, and was marked at its close with greater cordiality, if possible, than at the commencement. in the evening the consul, mr. calvert, came on board, when it turned out that no instructions whatever had been sent to prepare for the reception of the force, except that two commissariat officers, without interpreters or staff, had been dispatched to the town a few days before the troops landed. these officers could not speak the language. however, the english consul was a man of energy. mr. calvert went to the turkish governor, and succeeded in having half of the quarters in the town reserved. next day he visited and marked off the houses; but the french authorities said they had made a mistake as to the portion of the town they had handed over to him. they had the turkish part of the town close to the water, with an honest and favourable population; the english had the greek quarter, further up the hill, and perhaps the healthier, and a population which hated them bitterly. sir george brown arrived on wednesday, the th of april, but it was midday on saturday the th, ere the troops were landed and sent to their quarters. the force consisted of only some thousand and odd men, and it had to lie idle for two days and a half watching the seagulls, or with half averted eye regarding the ceaseless activity of the french, the daily arrival of their steamers, the rapid transmission of their men to shore. on our side not a british pendant was afloat in the harbour! well might a turkish boatman ask, "oh, why is this? oh, why is this, chelebee? by the beard of the prophet, for the sake of your father's father, tell me, o english lord, how is it? the french infidels have got one, two, three, four, five, six, seven ships, with fierce little soldiers; the english infidels, who say they can defile the graves of these french (may heaven avert it!), and who are big as the giants of asli, have only one big ship. do they tell lies?" (such was the translation given to me of my interesting waterman's address.) the troops were disembarked in the course of the day, and marched out to encamp, eight miles and a half north of gallipoli, at a place called bulair. the camp was occupied by the rifles and sappers and miners, within three miles of the village. it was seated on a gentle slope of the ridge which runs along the isthmus, and commanded a view of the gulf of saros, but the sea of marmora was not visible. sanitary and certain other considerations may have rendered it advisable not to select this village itself, or some point closer to it, as the position for the camp; but the isthmus was narrower at bulair, could be more easily defended, would not have required so much time or labour to put it into a good state of defence, and appeared to be better adapted for an army as regards shelter and water than the position chosen. bulair is ten and a half miles from gallipoli, so the camp was about seven and a half from the port at which its supplies were landed, and where its reinforcements arrived. [sidenote: scarcity of provisions.] on thursday there was a general hunt for quarters through the town. the general got a very fine place in a _beau quartier_, with a view of an old turk on a counter looking at his toes in perpetual perspective. the consul, attended by the dragoman and a train of lodging seekers, went from house to house; but it was not till the eye had got accustomed to the general style of the buildings and fittings that any of them seemed willing to accept the places offered them. the hall door, which is an antiquated concern--not affording any particular resistance to the air to speak of--opens on an apartment with clay walls about ten feet high, and of the length and breadth of the whole house. it is garnished with the odds and ends of the domestic deity--empty barrels, casks of home-made wine, buckets, baskets, &c. at one side a rough staircase, creaking at every step, conducts one to a saloon on the first floor. this is of the plainest possible appearance. on the sides are stuck prints of the "nicolaus ho basileus," of the virgin and child, and engravings from jerusalem. the greeks are iconoclasts, and hate images, but they adore pictures. a yellow jonah in a crimson whale with fiery entrails is a favourite subject, and doubtless bears some allegorical meaning to their own position in turkey. from this saloon open the two or three rooms of the house--the kitchen, the divan, and the principal bedroom. there is no furniture. the floors are covered with matting, but with the exception of the cushions on the raised platform round the wall of the room (about eighteen inches from the floor), there is nothing else in the rooms offered for general competition to the public. above are dark attics. in such a lodging as this, in the house of the widow papadoulos, was i at last established to do the best i could without servant or equipment. water was some way off, and i might have been seen stalking up the street with as much dignity as was compatible with carrying a sheep's liver on a stick in one hand, some lard in the other, and a loaf of black bread under my arm back from market. there was not a pound of butter in the whole country, meat was very scarce, fowls impossible; but the country wine was fair enough, and eggs were not so rare as might be imagined from the want of poultry. while our sick men had not a mattress to lie down upon, and were without blankets, the french were well provided for. no medical comforts were forwarded from malta,--and so when a poor fellow was sinking the doctor had to go to the general's and get a bottle of wine for him. the hospital sergeant was sent out with a sovereign to buy coffee, sugar, and other things of the kind for the sick, but he could not get them, as no change was to be had in the place. in the french hospital everything requisite was nicely made up in small packages and marked with labels, so that what was wanted might be procured in a minute. the french _commandant de place_ posted a tariff of all articles which the men were likely to want on the walls of the town, and regulated the exchanges like a local rothschild. a zouave wanted a fowl; he saw one in the hand of an itinerant poultry merchant, and he at once seized the bird, and giving the proprietor a franc--the tariff price--walked off with the prize. the englishman, on the contrary, more considerate and less protected, was left to make hard bargains, and generally paid twenty or twenty-five per cent. more than his ally. these zouaves were first-rate foragers. they might be seen in all directions, laden with eggs, meat, fish, vegetables (onions), and other good things, while our fellows could get nothing. sometimes a servant was sent out to cater for breakfast or dinner: he returned with the usual "me and the colonel's servant has been all over the town, and can get nothing but eggs and onions, sir;" and lo! round the corner appeared a red-breeched zouave or chasseur, a bottle of wine under his left arm, half a lamb under the other, and poultry, fish, and other luxuries dangling round him. "i'm sure i don't know how these french manages it, sir," said the crestfallen mercury, retiring to cook the eggs. the french established a _restaurant_ for their officers, and at the "auberge de l'armée expeditionnaire," close to general bosquet's quarters, one could get a dinner which, after the black bread and eggs of the domestic hearth, appeared worthy of philippe. there seemed to be a general impression among the french soldiers that it would be some time ere they left gallipoli or the chersonese. they were in military occupation of the place. the tricolor floated from the old tower of gallipoli. the _café_ had been turned into an office--_direction du port et commissariat de la marine_. french soldiers patrolled the town at night, and kept the soldiery of both armies in order; of course, we sent out a patrol also, but the regulations of the place were directly organized at the french head-quarters, and even the miserable house which served as our _trois frères_, or london tavern, and where one could get a morsel of meat and a draught of country wine for dinner, was under their control. a notice on the walls of this _restaurant de l'armée auxiliaire_ informed the public that, _par ordre de la police française_, no person would be admitted after seven o'clock in the evening. in spite of their strict regulations there was a good deal of drunkenness among the french soldiery, though perhaps it was not in excess of our proportion, considering the numbers of both armies. they had _fourgons_ for the commissariat, and all through their quarter of the town one might see the best houses occupied by their officers. on one door was inscribed _magasin des liquides_, on another _magasin des distributions_. m. l'aumonier de l'armée française resides on one side of the street; l'intendant général, &c., on the other. opposite the commissariat stores a score or two of sturdy turks worked away at neat little hand-mills marked _moulin de café--subsistence militaire_. _no. a._, _compagnie b._, &c., and roasting the beans in large rotatory ovens; the place selected for the operation being a burial-ground, the turbaned tombstones of which seemed to frown severely on the degenerate posterity of the osmanli. in fact, the french appear to have acted uniformly on the sentiment conveyed in the phrase of one of their officers, in reply to a remark about the veneration in which the turks hold the remains of the dead--"_mais il faut rectifier tous ces préjuges et barbarismes!_" the greatest cordiality existed between the chiefs of the armies. sir george brown and some of his staff dined one day with general canrobert; another day with general martimprey; another day the drowsy shores of the dardanelles were awakened by the thunders of the french cannon saluting him as he went on board admiral bruat's flagship to accept the hospitalities of the naval commander; and then on alternate days the dull old alleys of gallipoli were brightened up by an apparition of these officers and their staffs in full uniform, clanking their spurs and jingling their sabres over the excruciating rocks which form the pavement as they proceeded on their way to the humble quarters of "sir brown," to sit at return banquets. the natives preferred the french uniform to ours. in their sight there can be no more effeminate object than a warrior in a shell jacket, with closely-shaven chin and lip and cropped whiskers. he looks, in fact, like one of their dancing troops, and cuts a sorry figure beside a great gaul in his blazing red pantaloons and padded frock, epaulettes, beard _d'afrique_, and well-twisted moustache. the pashas think much of our men, but they are not struck with our officers. the french made an impression quite the reverse. the turks could see nothing in the men, except that they thought the zouaves and chasseurs indigènes dashing-looking fellows; but they considered their officers superior to ours in all but exact discipline. one day, as a man of the th was standing quietly before the door of the english consulate, with a horse belonging to an officer of his regiment, some drunken french soldiers came reeling up the street; one of them kicked the horse, and caused it to rear violently; and, not content with doing so, struck it on the head as he passed. several french officers witnessed this scene, and one of them exclaimed, "why did not you cut the brigand over the head with your whip when he struck the horse?" the englishman was not a master of languages, and did not understand the question. when it was explained to him, he said with the most sovereign contempt, "lord forbid i'd touch sich a poor drunken little baste of a crayture as that!" [sidenote: troubles of the turkish commission.] the turkish commission had a troublesome time of it. all kinds of impossible requisitions were made to them every moment. osman bey, eman bey, and kabouli effendi, formed the martyred triumvirate, who were kept in a state of unnatural activity and excitement by the constant demands of the officers of the allied armies for all conceivable stores, luxuries, and necessaries for the troops, as well as for other things over which they had no control. one man had a complaint against an unknown frenchman for beating his servant--another wanted them to get lodgings for him--a third wished them to send a cavass with self and friends on a shooting excursion--in fact, very unreasonable and absurd requests were made to these poor gentlemen, who could scarcely get through their legitimate work, in spite of the aid of numberless pipes and cups of coffee. one of the medical officers went to make a requisition for hospital accommodation, and got through the business very well. when it was over, the president descended from the divan. in the height of his delusions respecting oriental magnificence and splendour, led away by reminiscences of "tales of the genii" and the "arabian nights," the reader must not imagine that this divan was covered with cloth of gold, or glittering with precious stones. it was clad in a garb of honest manchester print, with those remarkable birds of prey or pleasure, in green and yellow plumage, depicted thereupon, familiar to us from our earliest days. the council chamber was a room of lath and plaster, with whitewashed walls; its sole furniture a carpet in the centre, the raised platform or divan round its sides, and a few chairs for the franks. the president advanced gravely to the great hakim, and through the interpreter made him acquainted with particulars of a toothache, for which he desired a remedy. the doctor insinuated that his highness must have had a cold in the head, from which the symptoms had arisen, and the diagnosis was thought so wonderful it was communicated to the other members of the council, and produced a marked sensation. when he had ordered a simple prescription he was consulted by the other members in turn: one had a sore chin, the other had weak eyes; and the knowledge evinced by the doctor of these complaints excited great admiration and confidence, so that he departed, after giving some simple prescriptions, amid marks of much esteem and respect. djemel pasha, who commanded the pashalic of the dardanelles, was a very enlightened turk, and possessed a fund of information and a grasp of intellect not at all common among his countrymen, even in the most exalted stations. he was busily engaged on a work on the constitution of turkey, in which he proposed to remodel the existing state of things completely. he had been much struck by the notion of an hereditary aristocracy, which he considered very suitable for turkey, and was fascinated by our armorial bearings and mottoes, as he thought them calculated to make members of a family act in such a way as to sustain the reputation of their ancestors. talking of the intended visit of the sultan to adrianople, he said, one day, that it was mere folly. if the sultan went as his martial ancestors--surrounded by his generals--to take the command of his armies and share the privations of his soldiers, he granted it would be productive of good, and inflame the ardour of his soldiery; but it would produce no beneficial result to visit adrianople with a crowded court, and would only lead to a vast outlay of money in repairing the old palace for his reception, and in conveying his officers of state, his harem, and his horses and carriages to a city which had ceased to be fit for an imperial residence. he was very much of the opinion of general canrobert, who, at the close of a splendid reception by the pashas, at constantinople, in which pipes mounted with diamonds and begemmed coffee-cups were handed about by a numerous retinue, said, "i am much obliged by your attention, but you will forgive me for saying i should be much better pleased if all these diamonds and gold were turned into money to pay your troops, and if you sent away all these servants of yours, except two or three, to fight against your enemy!" djemel pasha declared there could be no good in tanzimats or in new laws, unless steps were taken to carry them out and administer them. the pashas in distant provinces would never give them effect until they were forced to do so, and therefore it will be necessary, in his opinion, to have the ambassadors of the great powers admitted as members of the turkish council of state for some years, in order that these reforms may be productive of good. the koran he considered as little suitable to be the basis and textbook of civil law now in turkey, as the old testament would be in england. it will be long indeed ere the doctrines of this enlightened turk prevail among his countrymen, and when they do the osmanlis will have ceased to be a nation. the prejudices of the true believers were but little shaken by these events. the genuine old green-turbaned turk viewed our intervention with suspicion, and attributed our polluting presence on his soil to interested motives, which aim at the overthrow of the faith. this was seen in their leaden eyes as they fell on one through the clouds of tobacco-smoke from the _khans_ or _cafés_. you are still a giaour, whom mahomet has forced into his service, but care must be taken that you do not gain any advantage at the hands of the faithful. in the english general orders the greatest stress was laid on treating the turks with proper respect, and both officers and men were strictly enjoined to pay every deference to "the most ancient and faithful of our allies." the soldiers appeared to act in strict conformity with the spirit of these instructions. they bought everything they wanted, but on going for a walk into the country one might see the fields dotted by stragglers from the french camp, tearing up hedgestakes, vines, and sticks for fuel, and looking out generally with eyes wide open for the _pot à feu_. [sidenote: chasseurs indigÈnes.] with the exception of the _vivandières_, the french brought no women whatever with them. the malta authorities had the egregious folly to send out ninety-seven women in the "georgiana" to this desolate and miserable place, where men were hard set to live. this indiscretion was not repeated. the camps in the neighbourhood of gallipoli extended every day, and with the augmentation of the allied forces, the privations to which the men were exposed became greater, the inefficiency of our arrangements more evident, and the comparative excellence of the french commissariat administration more striking. amid the multitude of complaints which met the ear from every side, the most prominent were charges against the british commissariat; but the officers at gallipoli were not to blame. the persons really culpable were those who sent them out without a proper staff, and without the smallest foresight. early and late these officers might be seen toiling amid a set of apathetic turks and stupid araba drivers, trying in vain to make bargains and give orders in the language of signs, or aided by interpreters who understood neither the language of the contractor nor contractee. and then the officers of a newly-arrived regiment rushed on shore, demanded bullock-carts for the luggage, guides, interpreters, rations, &c., till the unfortunate commissary became quite bewildered. there were only four commissary officers, turner, bartlett, thompson, and smith, and they were obliged to get on as well as they could with the natives. the worst thing was the want of comforts for the sick. many of the men labouring under diseases contracted at malta were obliged to camp in the cold, with only one blanket, as there was no provision for them at the temporary hospital. mr. alexander succeeded in getting hold of some hundreds of blankets by taking on himself the responsibility of giving a receipt for them, and taking them off the hands of the commanding officer of one of the regiments from malta. this responsibility is a horrid bugbear, but no man is worth his salt who does not boldly incur it whenever he thinks the service is to be benefited thereby. it would be lucky if more people had a supply of desirable recklessness, and things would have gone on much better. regiments arrived daily, and encamped near the town. the th, th, th, rd, and nd battalion rifle brigade were stationed between bulair and gallipoli. the rd, st, th, th, and th, lay in scutari or in the adjoining barracks. the french poured in their troops. towards the end of april they had , men in the neighbourhood of gallipoli, and the narrow streets were almost impassable. the zouaves, from their picturesque costume, quite threw our men in the shade--all but their heads and shoulders, which rose in unmistakable broadness above the fez caps of their gallic allies. even the zouaves yielded the prize of effectiveness to the chasseurs indigènes, or french sepoys. these troops wore a white turban, loose powder-blue jackets, faced and slashed with yellow, embroidered vests with red sashes, and blue breeches extremely wide and loose, so that they looked like kilts, falling to the knees, where they were confined by a band; the calf of the leg encased in greaves of yellow leather with black stripes; and white gaiters, falling from the ankle over the shoe. long strings of camels laden with skins of wine, raki, and corn, might be seen stalking along the dusty roads and filing through the dingy bazaar, and wild-looking countrymen with droves of little shaggy ponies trooped in hour after hour to sell the produce they carried and the beasts that bore it. instead of piastres, they began to demand lire, shillings, pounds, and napoleons, and displayed ingenuity in the art of selling horses and doctoring them that would have done honour to yorkshiremen. the coarse brown bread of the country was to be had at the bakers' shops early in the morning by those who were not so fortunate as to have rations, and after a little preparatory disgust was not quite uneatable. wine, formerly two or three piastres ( _d._ or _d._) a bottle, soon sold for _s._ _d._ or _s._ meat was bad and dear, the beef being very like coarse mahogany; the mutton was rather better, but very lean. eggs were becoming scarce and dear, in consequence of the razzias of the army on the producing powers. milk was an article of the highest luxury, and only to be seen on the tables of the great; and the sole attempt at butter was rancid lard packed in strong-smelling camel's-hair bags. it was really wonderful that no englishman had sufficient enterprise to go out to gallipoli with a stock of creature comforts and camp necessaries. one man set up a shop, at which bad foreign beer was sold as english ale at _s._ _d._ a bottle; a hard little old yankee ham fetched about _s._; brandy was very dear, scarce, and bad; bacon was not to be had, except by great good fortune and large outlay; and dutch cheeses were selling at _s._ each. a stock of saddlery would have been at once bought up at very remunerating rates to the importer; and there was scarcely an article of common use in england which could not have been disposed of at a very considerable profit. [sidenote: close shaving.] as change was very scarce, there was great difficulty in obtaining articles of small value, and a sum of _s._ was occasionally made up in piastres, half-piastres, gold pieces of , , , and piastres each, francs, soldi, lire, halfpence, sixpences, and zwanzigers, collected at several shops up and down the street. let the reader imagine mr. john robinson, patrick casey, or saunders macpherson of her majesty's th regiment, suddenly plunged into such a mass of cheats and sharpers, who combine the avidity of the jew with the subtlety of the greek, and trying to purchase some little article of necessity or luxury with his well-saved sovereign, and he can guess how he would suffer. "i expect at last they'll give me a handful of wafers for a sovereign," said a disconsolate sapper one day, as he gazed on the dirty equivalent for a piece of english gold which he had received from an israelite. towards evening, when raki and wine had done their work, the crowds became more social and turbulent, and english and french might be seen engaged in assisting each other to preserve the perpendicular, or toiling off to their camps laden with bags of coffee, sugar, and rice, and large bottles of wine. at sunset patrols cleared the streets, taking up any intoxicated stragglers they might find there or in the _cafés_, and when the brief twilight had passed away the whole town was left in silence and in darkness, except when the barking and yelping of the innumerable dogs which infested it woke up the echoes, and now and then the challenge of a distant sentry or the trumpet-calls of the camp fell on the ear. the lieutenant-general was determined to secure efficiency according to the light that was in him. if sir george brown had his way, rowland, oldridge, and the whole race of bears'-grease manufacturers and pomade merchants would have scant grace and no profit. his hatred of hair amounted to almost a mania. "where there is hair there is dirt, and where there is dirt there will be disease." that was an axiom on which was founded a vigorous war against all capillary adornments. stocks were ordered to be kept up, stiff as ever. the general would not allow the little black pouches hitherto worn on the belt by officers. they are supposed to carry no pockets, and are not to open their shell jackets; and the question they ask is, "does the general think we are to have no money?" but the order which gave the greatest dissatisfaction was that each officer must carry his own tent. they were warned to provide mules for that purpose, and to carry their baggage, but mules were not to be had at any price. for close shaving, tight stocking, and light marching, lieut.-general sir george brown was not to be excelled. a kinder man to the soldiers, or one who looked more to their rights, never lived, and no "but" need be added to this praise. chapter iii. works at bulair--scutari--return to gallipoli--french troops--intricate monetary arrangements--the turkish commissions--army chaplains--fire in a turkish town--prevalence of high winds at gallipoli--arrival of lord raglan at gallipoli--review of french troops--greek apathy and turkish indifference. whilst part of the army was engaged on the works at bulair, arrangements were made for the reception of english regiments in the bosphorus. on the th of april the _himalaya_ arrived with the rd regiment (colonel blake) and the st regiment (colonel adams) on board, and anchored off gallipoli; sir george brown ordered her off to scutari after a short delay, and as i was miserably lodged at gallipoli, i took a passage on board. on the th (good friday) she arrived in the midst of a snow-storm, and moored at the asiatic side of the bosphorus. these regiments were the first that landed at scutari--a place about to acquire a sad notoriety as the head-quarters of death and sickness, and a happier interest as the scene of the labours of florence nightingale and her sisters. the day was bitterly cold; constantinople and pera, black-looking and desolate, contrasted with the white hills behind them, covered with deep snow; and the asiatic mountains in the distance had an alpine wintry aspect, which gave a shock to our notions of an oriental spring. the barracks were given up to the men just as they had been left by the turkish troops, and were inhabited by legions of fleas, and less active but more nauseous insects. it was late in the day when the regiment arrived at quarters, and several officers lay for the night in the guard-room, which had an open brasier of charcoal to keep warmth in it. all night we could scarcely sleep, and at dawn we began to receive visits from turks, who were kind enough to see if they could relieve us of anything they thought we did not want. a fire broke out at gallipoli on the morning of saturday, the nd of april. the previous friday was the good friday of the greeks, and they kept it as is their wont on a great festival, staying up late and feasting and revelling. it was late, therefore--about o'clock in the morning--when, in the middle of a comfortable sleep, we were awakened by assistant-surgeon irwin, of the th, who slept in a den in the next room with captain mansell, of the same regiment, rushing in and exclaiming--"get up! get up! alexander's house is on fire!" the house in which the principal medical officer lived was on the other side of the street, about three houses lower down. flames were issuing through the windows of papa zonani's residence, and the greek population were gazing idly on while those who lived on either side were removing their effects as rapidly as possible. the turks stroked their beards, and considered that the will of god was directly concerned in the destruction of the premises, while the greeks wrung their hands, and did nothing further. the major in his excitement dashed his hand through a pane of glass, and shouted out, "get up and bundle out your things, or we're done for." a jump out of bed and a rush at the few spare articles of clothing lying about followed, and then commenced a rapid flight down stairs into a garden of onions and garlic at the rear of the house, which seemed especially formed as a refuge for us. there were in the house mr. irwin, of the th, captain mansell, of the th, major collingwood dickson, r.a., two soldiers of the th, servants of the officers, an old woman, several children, cocks, hens, &c., immediately a secession of _lares_ and _penates_ to this land of refuge began; beds, coats, trunks, portmanteaus, boxes, were hurled down the stairs, and fierce struggles took place for precedence in the narrow passage, while the old lady and the children howled dismally as they flew about with pipkins and spinning-reels and inexplicable chattels. [sidenote: a fire at gallipoli.] in the midst of all our confusion a heavy tramp was heard in the street--the door of our house was burst open, and in rushed a body of french infantry, shouting out, "cassez tous, cassez tous; il faut abattre la maison!" however, it was explained to them that this necessity was not absolute, and that it would be much better for them to devote themselves to saving our property. they at once assented, and rushing on the various things in the room, transported them with incredible rapidity into the garden. their comrades outside were as energetic as demons. they mounted on the roofs of the houses next to the burning mansion, smashed in the tiles, destroyed the walls, and left them a mass of ruins in as little time as it takes me to write these lines. they saved the quarter of the town, for there was but little water, and the few small hand-engines were of no service. the marines and sailors of the _jean bart_ and _montebello_ were landed very speedily. the doctor's house and two others, as well as the greater part of the hospital, were destroyed. several of the french soldiers were hurt severely, but no lives were lost. there was no pillage, owing to the vigilance of the french guards. the only mischief, beyond the destruction of property in the houses, the loss of twenty pounds' worth of dr. alexander's effects, and the fright, was that we were compelled to take refuge in a tent pitched in the onion-garden at the back of the cabin, which would have formed a very agreeable residence for an enthusiastic entomologist, but was by no means agreeable, on those cold and windy nights, to unscientific individuals. on the same day sir de lacy evans and staff, in the _city of london_, passed, after a short delay, on their way to scutari, to form the second division. on the rd the _emperor nicholas_ passed gallipoli early in the morning, with sir richard england on board, on his way to constantinople, to take the command of the third division. later in the day the _trent_, with the rd regiment; the _tonning_, with brigadiers sir c. campbell and pennefather; and the _medway_, with the th regiment, arrived, and after a short delay proceeded northwards to scutari. eyre, who arrived in the _tonning_, was at once secured by sir george brown, who had been anxiously waiting to catch a brigadier. he set to work to drill his men with energy a day or two after his arrival. the th (to whom the general paid a compliment on their efficient condition), the th, and th, were under arms daily at - / a.m., and they thought themselves lucky if they got released after three hours' drill and marching. the brigadier was always at the camp soon after dawn. Æolus must have taken his abode somewhere in the neighbourhood of gallipoli since he removed his court from lipari. the unseasonable rapidity with which he opens his bags, and the violence with which he sends forth the sharpest and most truculent of all the winds to sweep over the hills around this miserable spot, would satisfy juno in her most indignant mood if the place were a trojan colony. the extraordinary suddenness of these changes and the excessive variations of temperature were very trying to the men in camp, but the average of illness and disease was rather below that of most camps in ordinary circumstances. the sun rises, perchance, from behind the hills of asia minor without a cloud to mar his splendour; the sea of marmora, bounded by the faint blue lines of the highlands of asia and the distinctive sweep of the european coast, spreads out towards the north-west like a sheet of burnished silver; the dardanelles flows swiftly between the contracted channel as smoothly as the thames in summer time by the pleasant meads of chertsey. there is a rich sylvan look about the scenery, for at a distance the hills around lampsaki, across the straits, appear to be dotted with verdant lawns and plantations; and the outline of the high grounds, rising tier after tier till they are capped by the lofty range which stretches along the background from ida in the troad, is subdued and regular. the villages built in the recesses of the hills and in the little bays and creeks of the straits, surrounded by all the enchantment of distance, look clean and picturesque, the dark groves of cypress casting into bright relief the whitewash of the houses and the tall shafts of minarets standing out gracefully from the confused mass of roofs, gables, masts, yards, and sails by the seaside. further south the coasts close in abruptly, and the straits are like a long highland loch. the land around gallipoli on the european side of the straits is more bleak and more level. indeed, for miles around the town (except towards the south, where there is a very small table-land with patches of trees), and all the way across to the gulf of saros, the country very much resembles the downs about brighton. it is nearly as destitute of wood or plantations. the soil, which is light, but deep and rather sandy, produces excellent crops, but bears no trees, except a few figs and olives. the vines, which are planted in rows, not trailed as in italy, are abundant, and the grape yields a rich, full, and generous wine, which is highly esteemed. into the soil, which is just scratched up by ploughs rather inferior to those described by virgil years ago, the dejected rayahs are busied throwing the corn and barley seed; and as the slow steers or huge lumbering buffaloes pace along the furrows, they are followed by a stately army of storks, which march gravely at the very heels of beast and ploughman, and engage themselves busily in destroying the grubs and larvæ. on all the heights around glisten the white tents of french or english, and here and there the eye rests upon their serrated lines on the slope of some pleasant valley, or lights on the encampment of some detached party posted in a recess of the hills. faint clouds of dust, through which may be seen the glistening of steel and dark masses of uniform, blur the landscape here and there, and betray the march of troops along the sandy roads, which are exactly like those worn by the tramp of men and horses through chobham-common, and had neither fence, boundary-metal, nor drainage. [sidenote: works at bulair.] in a moment the whole scene changes. a violent storm of wind rushes over the face of the sea and straits, lashing them into fury, and sending the turkish boats flying with drooping peaks to the shelter of the shore--the coast is obscured by masses of black clouds, which burst into torrents of rain resembling tropical water-spouts. the french men-of-war in the bay send down top masts, the merchantmen run out cable and let go another anchor; the rayahs plod across the fields, and crouch in holes and corners till the storm abates; and the luckless troops on their march are covered with mud by the action of the rain. in such times as these canvas is a sorry shelter--the pegs draw from the loose soil, and let in wind and rain. on saturday, the th of april, tents were blown down by such a storm in all directions. in the two english camps about twenty were down at the same time, and exposed the men to all the drenching rain. lady errol, who was living with her husband in the rifle camp, had to crawl from under the dripping canvas in most sorry plight. prince jerome napoleon arrived on the th. the town was shaken by the imperial salute of guns from each of the five french line-of-battle ships. he left the ship for the shore in a storm of wind, under a similar salute, which frightened the greeks out of their lives. next sunday, prince napoleon, general canrobert, and the _état major_ reviewed the french troops, and the english general and staff attended upon the occasion. lord raglan, accompanied by lord de ros, quartermaster-general, and staff, mr. burrell, dr. tice, &c., arrived may nd, at noon, on board the _emeu_. he proceeded to general brown's quarters, and they had a long interview. lord raglan visited admiral bruat on board his flag-ship, and sailed the same night for the bosphorus and for scutari. the works at the intrenched camp at bulair progressed with such speed that our portion of them was at this time expected to be finished by the middle of may. the emulation between the french and english troops at the diggings was immense, and at the same time most good-humoured. the lines were about seven miles long, and about two and three-quarters or three miles were executed by our men. they were simple field works, running along the crest of a natural ridge, from the gulf of saros to the sea of marmora. they consisted of a trench seven feet deep; the bottom, from scarp to counterscarp, six feet broad; the top thirteen feet broad. there was then a berm of three feet wide, above which was the parapet of earthwork (to be revetted in due course) of five feet thick, a banquette three feet six inches broad, and a slope inside of one in two. the spectator who selects a high point of land on the undulating country round brighton, and looks across the valley below, might form a tolerable idea of the terrain around gallipoli. crossing the hills in all directions, and piercing the ravines between them, the dark masses of french infantry advancing from their numerous encampments might at the period referred to be seen formed for miles around on every sloping plateau. the shrill trumpets of the zouaves were frequently heard sounding a wild and eccentric march, and these fierce-looking soldiers of africa, burnt brown by constant exposure to the sun, with beards which easily distinguish them from the native arabs, came rushing past, for their pace is so quick that it fully justifies the term. the open collars of their coats allow free play to the lungs; the easy jacket, the loose trouser, and the well-supported ankle, constitute the _beau ideal_ of a soldier's dress; their firelocks and the brasses of their swords and bayonets are polished to a nicety. each man was then fully equipped for the field, with great-coat strapped over his knapsack, canteen by his side, a billhook, hatchet, or cooking-tin fastened over all. in the rear, mounted on a packhorse, followed a vivandière, in the uniform of the regiment, with natty little panniers and neatly-polished barrels of diminutive size dangling over the saddle; and then came a sumpter-mule, with two wooden boxes fastened to the pack, containing small creature comforts for the officers. the word was given to halt--stand at ease--pile arms. in a moment the whole regiment seemed disorganized. the men scattered far and wide over the fields collecting sticks and brushwood, and it appeared incredible that they could have gathered all the piles of brambles and dried wood and leaves which they deposited in the rear of the lines from the country that looked so bare. the officers gathered in groups, lighted cigars, chatted and laughed, or sat on the ground while their coffee was being boiled. the moment the halt took place, off came the boxes from the mule--a little portable table was set up--knives, forks, glasses and cups were laid out--a capacious coffee-tin was put upon three stones over a heap of bramble, and in three minutes each officer could take a cup of this refreshing drink after his hot march, with a biscuit and morsel of cheese, and a chasse of brandy afterwards. the men were equally alert in providing themselves with their favourite beverage. in a very short space of time two or three hundred little camp-fires were lighted, sending up tiny columns of smoke, and coffee-tins were boiling, and the busy brisk vivandière, with a smile for every one, and a joke or box on the ear for a favourite vieux moustache, passed along through the blaze, and filled out tiny cups of cognac to the thirsty soldiers. pipes of every conceivable variety of shape were lighted, and a hum and bustle rose up from the animated scene, so rich in ever-shifting combinations of form and colour that maclise might have looked on it with wonder and despair. regiment after regiment came up on the flanks of the zouaves, halted, and repeated the process, the only remarkable corps being the indigènes, or native zouaves, dressed exactly the same as the french, except that jackets, trousers, and vest are of a bright powder blue, trimmed with yellow, and their turbans, or the folds of linen round the fez, are of pure white. [sidenote: review of french troops.] in an hour or so the crest of the hill, which extended in undulating folds for two or three miles, was covered by battalions of infantry, and they might be seen toiling up the opposite ridge, till nothing was visible from one extremity to the other but the broken lines of these stalwart battalions. there was a ready, dashing, serviceable look about the men that justified the remark of one of the captains--"we are ready as we stand to go on to st. petersburg this instant." there was a vivacity, so to speak, about the appearance of the troops which caught the eye at once. the air of reality about this review distinguished it from sham fights and field-days, and all holiday demonstrations of the kind. before twelve o'clock there were about , troops on the opposite ridges of hills--an excellently-appointed train of artillery of nine-pounder guns, with appointments complete, being stationed in the valley below. the columns, taken lineally, extended upwards of eight miles. strange as such a spectacle must have been to turks and greeks, there was scarcely a native on the ground. whether fear or apathy kept them away, it is impossible to say; but gallipoli, with its , inhabitants, sent not a soul to gaze upon the splendid spectacle. if horace be right, the gallipolitans have indeed discovered the secret of the only true happiness. they absolutely revel in the most voluptuous indulgence of the _nil admirari_. while six or seven french men-of-war were anchored in their waters, while frigates and steamers and line-of-battle ships kept passing up and down in continuous streams, waking the echoes of the dardanelles with endless salutes, not a being ever came down to glance at the scene. the old crones sat knitting in their dingy hovels; the men, i.e., the greeks, slouched about the corners in their baggy breeches, and the pretty and dirty little children continued their games without showing the smallest sign of curiosity, though a whole fleet was blazing away its thunder in an imperial welcome within a few yards of them. as for the turks, they sat so obstinately on their shelves and smoked their apathetic pipes so pertinaciously--they were so determined in resenting the impulses of curiosity--that one's fingers were perpetually itching to indulge in the luxury of giving them a slap in the face, and it was all but impossible to resist the impulse of trying what effect a kick would have had in disturbing such irritating equanimity. there were no chobham crowds to break the uniformity of the lines of military, but great numbers of the english soldiery, in their sunday costume, turned out and "assisted" at the ceremony. shortly before twelve o'clock, a brilliant staff--it did indeed literally blaze in gold and silver, brass and polished steel, as the hot sun played on rich uniforms and accoutrements--was visible coming up the valley from the direction of the town. they were preceded by four vedettes, french dragoons with brazen helmets and leopard-skin mountings; the various staff officers in advance; then prince napoleon, in the uniform of a lieutenant-general, and general canrobert, in full dress and covered with orders, on one side, and sir george brown on the other, both somewhat in the rear. the effect of the _cortége_ as it swept past, the vision of prancing horses and gorgeous caparisons, of dancing plumes, of gold and silver lace, of hussar, dragoon, artillery, rifle, zouave, spahi, lancer, of officers of all arms, dressed with that eye to effect which in france is very just as long as men are on horseback, was wonderful. it flashed by like some grand procession of the stage, if one can so degrade its power and reality by the comparison. it was not gratifying to an englishman to observe the red coatee and cocked hat; the gold epaulettes and twist of the british officers looked very ill amid all the variety of costume in which the french indulged, nor was it without reason that the latter complained they could not tell which was the general or which the captain by their uniforms. as the vedettes came in view the drums of each regiment rolled, the trumpets and bugles sounded, and all the men who had been scattered over the ground in disorderly multitudes came running in from all sides, and dressed up, unpiled arms, and with great celerity fell into lines three deep, with bands, _vivandières_, mules, and smoking fires hastily extinguished in the rear. when general canrobert reached the first regiment he raised his cocked hat, and shouted lustily, "_vive l'empereur_." the officers repeated the cry, and three times it ran along the line of the regiment. the band struck up, the men presented arms, and the prince rode past bowing and raising his hat in acknowledgment, and again the band, out of compliment to the english general, played "god save the queen." soon after daybreak on the th of may, the rifle brigade, the th regiment, and the rd regiment, forming the working brigade of bulair, struck tents. at the same time the th, th, and th regiments, at the soulari encampment, about two miles from the town of gallipoli, proceeded towards bulair, to take up the quarters vacated by the other brigade. the mass of baggage was enormous. the trains of buffalo and bullock carts, of pack-horses, and mules, and of led horses, which filed along the road to gallipoli, seemed sufficient for the army of xerxes. for seven or eight miles the teams of country carts, piled up with beds and trunks, and soldiers' wives and tents, were almost unbroken; now and then an overladen mule tumbled down, or a wheel came off, and the whole line of march became a confused struggle of angry men and goaded cattle. it so happened that two french battalions were moving out to fresh quarters (they change their camps once a fortnight), and it became perceptible at a glance that, _pro rata_, they carried much less _impedimenta_ than our regiments. there is considerable difficulty in accounting for this; because without a complete knowledge of the internal economy of both armies comparison would be difficult; but the absence of women--the small kit of the officers, as well as the size of the tents, went far to account for it. frenchmen live in uniform, while no british soldier is quite happy without mufti. he must have his wide-awake and shooting jacket, and dressing gown, and evening dress, and a tub of some sort or other, a variety of gay shirting, pictorial and figurative, while the gaul does very well without them. chapter iv. mishaps--omar pasha's plans--preparations for a move--lord raglan--jew and armenian money-changers--review of the english forces--off to varna. [sidenote: the guards' camp.] the duke of cambridge arrived in the _caradoc_ at p.m. on tuesday, the th. marshal st. arnaud arrived at gallipoli on sunday, the th of may. on may th, the rifle brigade and rd regiment left gallipoli for scutari. sir george brown and staff also departed, leaving the force encamped under the command of sir richard england, with brigadiers sir j. campbell and eyre; major colborne and captain hallewell, deputy assistant quarter-master-generals; colonel doyle, assistant adjutant-general; brigade-major hope; brigade-major wood, &c. in a few days i bade good-bye to gallipoli, and proceeded to scutari, where i remained in quarters for some days, but finally took up my abode at messurir hotel, in pera, and awaited the course of events. in a book called "letters from head-quarters," newspaper correspondents are censured because they had the audacity to ask the commissariat for tents and rations. concerning the application to head-quarters, it may be as well to state that it was made in consequence of directions from home, for the government ordered that the accommodation which is seldom refused to gentlemen who may accompany in any recognized capacity the course of armies in the field should be afforded to the correspondents of the london journals. i called on lord raglan before he left scutari, because i was requested to do so. whilst waiting till his lordship could see me, the correspondent of a london morning journal came into the ante-room, and told me he was on the same errand as myself. "lord raglan being very much engaged," i was asked by one of the officers in waiting to see colonel steele, and on stating the object of my visit to the military secretary, he assured me that it could not be acceded to, whereupon i made my bow and withdrew without any further observation. a few days afterwards i received permission to draw rations from the commissariat, by order of the secretary of state. on a slope rising up from the water's edge, close to lord raglan's quarters, the camp of the brigade of guards was pitched; a kind of ravine, about a quarter of a mile wide, divided it from the plateau and valley at the back of the barracks, in which were pitched the camps of the other regiments, and of the light division. clumps of tall shady trees were scattered here and there down towards the water's edge, under which a horde of sutlers had erected sheds of canvas and plank for the sale of provisions, spirits, and wines, combined with a more wholesome traffic in cakes, turkish sweetmeats, lemonade, and sherbet. the proprietors were nearly all smyrniotes or greeks from pera, not bearing the highest character in the world. the regular canteens established within the lines were kept by a better class of people, under the _surveillance_ of the military authorities. syces, with horses for sale, rode about at full speed through the lanes and pathways leading to the camp; the steeds they bestrode were bony animals with mouths like a vice, stuffed out with grass and green food, and not worth a tithe of the prices asked for them. all this scene, so full of picturesque animation--these files of snowy tents sweeping away tier after tier over hillock and meadow, till they were bounded by the solemn black outlines of the forest of cypress--these patches of men at drill here and there all over the plain--these steadier and larger columns at parade--this constant play and glitter of bayonet and accoutrement as the numerous sentries wheeled on their beaten tracks--this confused crowd of araba drivers, match-sellers, fruit and cigar and tobacco vendors, of hamals or porters, of horse-dealers and gaily-dressed rogues, and rapparees of all nations, disappeared in a few hours, and left no trace behind, except the barren circle which marked where the tent once stood, and the plain all seared and scorched by the camp-fires. what became of the mushroom tribe which had started as it were from the ground to supply the wants of the soldiery it would be difficult to say, and not very interesting to inquire. among the most amusing specimens of the race must be reckoned the jew and armenian money-changers--squalid, lean, and hungry-looking fellows--whose turbans and ragged gabardines were ostentatiously dirty and poverty-stricken,--who prowled about the camp with an eternal raven-croak of "i say, john, change de monnish--change de monnish," relieved occasionally by a sly tinkle of a leathern purse well filled with dollars and small turkish coin. they evaded the vigilance of the sentries, and startled officers half asleep in the heat of the sun, by the apparition of their skinny hands and yellow visages within the tent, and the cuckoo-cry, "i say, john, change de monnish." their appearance was the greatest compliment that could be paid to the national character. the oldest turk had never seen one of them near a native camp, and the tradition of ages affirmed that where soldiers come the race disappeared. indeed, they only showed at the english camp in the sun-time. they were a sort of day-ghost which vanished at the approach of darkness, and the croak and the jingle were silent, and they spirited themselves gently away ere twilight, and where they lived no man could tell. any one who has seen vernet's picture, at versailles, of the taking of abd-el-kader's smala, will at once recognize the type of these people in the wonderful figure of the jew who is flying with his treasure from the grasp of the french swordsman. a fleet of thirty transports was anchored off the barracks. the sappers were engaged fitting up horse-boxes on board the transports. the sea of marmora was covered with the white sails of transports and store-ships, making way against the current, and the little wharf and landing-place at scutari were alive with men loading boats with provisions or munitions of war. [sidenote: disposition of the british army.] in strange contrast to all this life and activity, the natives idled on the shore, scarcely raising their heads to look at what was passing around them; or taking a very unobtrusive and contemplative interest in the labours of the soldiery, as they watched them from their smoking-perches in front of the _cafés_ of the town, or of the sutlers' booths pitched along the shore. lord raglan's quarters seemed to be an especial resort for them. the house, a low wooden building two stories high, very clean, and neatly painted and matted within, was situated on the beach, about three-quarters of a mile from the barrack. in front was a tolerably spacious courtyard, with high walls, well provided with little stone boxes for the sparrows and swallows to build in, and inside this court led horses and chargers, belonging to the aides and officers on duty, might be seen pacing about. directly opposite to the entrance of the court was a wooded knoll, with a few gravestones peering above the rich grass; and a turkish fountain, in front of a group of pine-trees, usually surrounded by water-carriers, was in the foreground. groups of turks, greeks, and armenians, each distinct, were to be seen reclining at the foot of these trees, gazing listlessly into the courtyard, while they carried on monosyllabic conversations at long intervals between puffs of smoke. the beach, which somewhat resembled that at folkestone at high water, was bounded by a tolerable road, a favourite walk of the women and children of chalcedon and the suburbs beyond it; but these animated bundles of bright-coloured clothing scarcely deigned to look at the men in uniforms, or to turn their heads at the jingle of sword and spur. in the stagnant water which ripples almost imperceptibly on the shore there floated all forms of nastiness and corruption, which the prowling dogs, standing leg-deep as they wade about in search of offal, cannot destroy. the smell from the shore was noisome, but a few yards out from the fringe of buoyant cats, dogs, birds, straw, sticks--in fact, of all sorts of abominable flotsam and jetsam, which bob about on the pebbles unceasingly--the water is exquisitely clear. the slaughter-houses for the troops, erected by the seaside, did not contribute, as may readily be imagined, to the cleanliness of this filthy beach, or the wholesomeness of the atmosphere. the disposition of the british army was as follows:--at scutari, the guards, three battalions, the th, th, rd, th, rd, st, th, th, th, th, rd, th, and rifle brigade; at gallipoli the st royals, th, th, th, th and th; in all about , men. our cavalry consisted of lord lucan, his aides-de-camp, and a few staff officers, who were awaiting the arrival of the force to which they were attached. the artillery which had arrived was not in a very efficient condition, owing to the loss of horses on the passage out. it was while our army was in this state that we heard of the march of the russians upon silistria, and their advance from the dobrudscha along the banks of the danube. lord de ros was dispatched to varna, and had an interview with omar pasha, who impressed upon him the necessity of an advance on the part of the allies into bulgaria. the russian army on the right bank of the danube, with their left resting on kostendje, and their right on rassova, covering their front with clouds of cossack plunderers, were within twelve miles of silistria, and their light cavalry swept all the northern portions of bulgaria, and threatened to cut off the communications. on the th of may, a state dinner was given to the duke of cambridge by the sultan, at which it was said that marshal st. arnaud made an allusion to a third power which would join france and england in the struggle. the austrian ambassador, who was present, did not utter any expression of opinion upon the subject. a tremendous storm broke over the camp on the night of the th of may. two officers of the rd, lieutenant w. l. macnish and ensign r. crowe, set out from the barracks, about nine o'clock, to go to the encampment of their regiments. the distance was about a third of a mile. just outside the barrack-wall was a small gully, at the bottom of which there is usually a few inches of water, so narrow that a child might step across. as they were groping along they suddenly plunged into the current, now far beyond their depth. mr. crowe managed to scramble up the bank, but his calls to his companion were unanswered. mr. macnish's body was discovered in the ditch a few days later, and was interred by the regiment. on the same night lord raglan, in the _caradoc_, marshal st. arnaud and staff, in the _berthollet_, and riza pasha, minister of war, and mehemet kiprisli pasha, minister of the interior, in the steam-frigate _cheh-per_, sailed for varna to hold a council of war with omar pasha, admirals hamelin and dundas. omar pasha was anxious for the arrival of an anglo-french army to occupy the country between varna and shumla, and to feel their way in advance of that line, so as to menace the russians from chernavoda to kostendje, while he endangered their right flank by pushing a large force on bucharest. he placed great reliance on the position of varna. a general at the head of a large army, who kept his own counsel, could, according to the ideas he then expressed, paralyse the whole russian invasion, when once he had got his men into the neighbourhood of this place, aided, as he must be, by the fleets. omar pasha declared that his plans were known to the russians in twenty-four hours after he mentioned them. presuming that the officer in command had a close mouth, according to omar pasha, a moral and physical strength might be found in the position almost irresistible. he might from that point move on shumla, and on the passes of the balkan, with equal ease; he could attack the right flank or the left flank of the russians, or, by landing in their rear, covered by the fleet, he might break up their position in front of the danube, and frustrate all their plans of campaign. with similar facility he could have sent an army across to the asiatic shores of the black sea, to aid the turkish army, or to attack the forces of the caucasus, or could direct his attention to the crimea, so as to make an attempt on sebastopol. the allied generals visited pravadi and shumla, and inspected the turkish army, which numbered about , men, many of whom were sick. on the evening of their visit, omar pasha received dispatches announcing that , russians, under paskiewitch, had commenced the bombardment of silistria. on the rd lord raglan returned from varna to scutari. it would appear that omar pasha had succeeded in convincing the allied generals that it would be desirable to effect a concentration of their forces between varna and shumla. it was decided that omar pasha should concentrate in front of shumla, and that the english and french should move their disposable forces to his assistance. on the return of the generals arrangements for moving from scutari were pushed forward with great vigour. [sidenote: review of english forces.] on the rd of may, the generals of brigade received instructions to prepare for active operations; and transports were detached from the fleet to proceed up the black sea with stores on the evening of the same day. at a quarter to eleven o'clock on the th of may, all the regiments in barrack and camp were paraded separately, and afterwards marched to the ridge which bounded one side of the shallow but broad ravine that separated the brigade of guards from the other brigades. the total force on the ground consisted of about , men. the guards were ordered to appear on parade without--muskets?--no. coatees?--no. epaulettes?--no. cartouch-boxes?--no. boots?--no. in fact, her majesty's guards were actually commanded to parade "without stocks!" to celebrate her majesty's birthday. at twelve o'clock, lord raglan and staff, to the number of thirty or forty, appeared on the ground. lord raglan having ridden slowly along the line, wheeled round and took his post in front of the centre regiment. after a short pause, just as the guns of the _niger_ were heard thundering out a royal salute from the bosphorus, the bands struck up the national air again, and down at once fell the colours of every regiment drooping to the ground. the thing was well done, and the effect of these thirty-two masses of richly dyed silk encrusted with the names of great victories, falling so suddenly to the earth as if struck down by one blow, was very fine. in another minute a shout of "god save the queen" ran from the rifles on the left to the guards on the right, and three tremendous cheers, gathering force as they rolled on with accumulated strength from regiment after regiment, made the very air ring, the ears tingle, and the heart throb. after the cheering died away the march past began. the guards marched magnificently. the highlanders were scarcely a whit inferior, and their pipes and dress created a sensation among the greeks, who are fond of calling them scotch albanians, and comparing them to the klephtic tribes, among whom pipes and kilts still flourish. games--racing in sacks, leaping, running, &c., and cricket, and other manly sports--occupied the men in the afternoon, in spite of the heat of the day. in the evening, a handsome obelisk, erected in the centre of the guards' camp, and crowned with laurel, was surrounded by fireworks. the apathy of the turks was astonishing. though scutari, with its population of , souls, was within a mile and a half, it did not appear that half a dozen people had been added to the usual crowd of camp followers who attend on such occasions. the greeks were more numerous; pera sent over a fair share of foreigners, all dressed in the newest paris fashions. vessels were sent up to varna daily with stores; but we were not prepared to take the field. there was great want of saddlery, pack-saddles, saddle-bags, and matters of that kind, and the officers found that their portmanteaus were utterly useless. if john bull could only have seen the evil effects of strangling the services in times of peace by ill-judged parsimony, he would not for the future listen so readily to the counsellors who tell him that it is economy to tighten his purse-strings round the neck of army and navy. who was the wise man who warned us in time of peace that we should pay dearly for shutting our eyes to the possibility of war, and who preached in vain to us about our want of baggage, and pontoon trains, and our locomotive deficiencies? no outlay, however prodigal, can atone for the effects of a griping penuriousness, and all the gold in the treasury cannot produce at command those great qualities in administrative and executive departments which are the fruits of experience alone. a soldier, an artilleryman, a commissariat officer, cannot be created suddenly, not even with profuse expenditure in the attempt. it would be a great national blessing if all our political economists could, at this time, have been caught and enlisted in the army at scutari for a month or so, or even if they could have been provided with temporary commissions, till they had obtained some practical knowledge of the results of their system. chapter v. departure of the light division--scenery of the bosphorus--the black sea--varna--encampment at aladyn--bulgarian cart-drivers--the commissariat. [sidenote: departure of the light division.] on sunday, the th of may, sir george brown left the barracks at scutari, and proceeded to varna in the _banshee_. before his departure orders were issued that the men belonging to the light division under his command should embark early the following morning--the baggage to be on board at six o'clock, the men at nine o'clock. at daylight on the th of may the _réveillé_ woke up the camp of the light division, and the regiments were ready for inspection at five o'clock. the light division, which was destined to play an important part in this campaign, and whose highest glory was to emulate the successes of the famous legion of the peninsula whose name they bore, consisted of the following regiments:--the th fusileers, the rd fusileers, the th foot, the rd or wellington's regiment, the th foot, the th connaught rangers, and the rifle brigade, nd battalion. they formed in front of their tents, and after a rapid inspection were ordered to strike tents. in a moment or two file after file of canvas cones collapsed and fell to the earth, the poles were unspliced and packed up, the canvas rolled up and placed in layers on bullock carts, the various articles of regimental baggage collected into the same vehicles,--ants in a swarm could not have been more active and bustling than the men; they formed into masses, broke up again, moved in single files in little companies, in broken groups all over the ground, while the araba drivers looked stupidly on, exhibiting the most perfect indifference to the appropriation of their carts, and evidently regarding the giaours as unpleasant demons, by whose preternatural energies they were to be agitated and perturbed as punishment for their sins. it would seem, indeed, very difficult to re-form this shifting, diffusive crowd of red-coats into the steady columns which were drawn up so rigidly a short time previously along the canvas walls, now fluttering in the dust or packed helplessly in bales. their labours were, however, decisive, and in some half-hour or so they had transformed the scene completely, and had left nothing behind them but the bare circles of baked earth, marking where tents had stood, the blackened spot where once the camp-fires blazed, tethering sticks, and a curious _débris_ of jam-pots, preserved meat cases, bottles, sweetmeat boxes, sardine tins, broken delf, bones of fowl and ham, pomatum pots, and tobacco pipes. a few words of command running through the toiling crowd--some blasts on the bugle--and the regiments got together, steady and solid, with long lines of bullock carts and buffalo arabas drawn up between them, and commenced their march over the sandy slopes which led to the sea. there lay the fleet of transports, anchored with their attendant steamers in long lines, as close inshore as they could approach with safety. the _vesuvius_, steam sloop, commander powell, the _simoom_ and the _megæra_ troop ships (screw-steamers), sent in their boats to aid those of the merchantmen and steamers in embarking the men and baggage, and admiral boxer, aided by captain christie, commander powell, and lieutenant rundle, r.n., superintended the arrangements for stowing away and getting on board the little army, which consisted of about , men. the morning was fine, but hot. the men were in excellent spirits, and as they marched over the dusty plain to the landing-places, they were greeted with repeated peals of cheering from the regiments of the other division. the order and regularity with which they were got on board the boats, and the safety and celerity with which they were embarked--baggage, horses, women, and stores--were creditable to the authorities, and to the discipline and good order of the men themselves, both officers and privates. no voyager or artist can do justice to the scenery of the bosphorus. it has much the character of a norwegian fiord. perhaps the rounded outline of the hills, the light rich green of the vegetation, the luxuriance of tree and flower and herbage, make it resemble more closely the banks of killarney or windermere. the waters escaping from the black sea, in one part compressed by swelling hillocks to a breadth of little more than a mile, at another expanding into a sheet of four times that breadth, run for thirteen miles in a blue flood, like the rhone as it issues from the lake of geneva, till they mingle with the sea of marmora, passing in their course beautiful groupings of wood and dale, ravine and hill-side, covered with the profusest carpeting of leaf and blade. kiosk and pleasure-ground, embrasured bastion and loopholed curtain, gay garden, villa, mosque, and mansion, decorate the banks in unbroken lines from the foot of the forts which command the entrance up to the crowning glory of the scene, where the imperial city of constantine, rising in many-coloured terraces from the verge of the golden horn, confuses the eye with masses of foliage, red roofs, divers-hued walls, and gables, surmounted by a frieze of snow-white minarets with golden summits, and by the symmetrical sweep of st. sophia. the hills strike abruptly upwards to heights varying from feet to feet, and are bounded at the foot by quays, which run along the european side, almost without interruption, from pera to bujukderé, about five miles from the black sea. these quays are also very numerous on the asiatic side. the villages by the water-side are so close together, that pera may be said to extend from tophané to the forts beyond bujukderé. the residences of the pashas, the imperial palaces of the sultan, and the retreats of opulence, lined these favoured shores; and as the stranger passes on, in steamer or caique, he may catch a view of some hoary pasha or ex-governor sitting cross-legged in his garden or verandah, smoking away, and each looking so like the other that they might all pass for brothers. the windows of one portion of these houses are mostly closely latticed and fastened, but here and there a bright flash of a yellow or red robe shows the harem is not untenanted. these dwellings succeed each other the whole length of the bosphorus, quite as numerously as the houses on the road from hyde park corner to hammersmith; and at places such as therapia and bujukderé they are dense enough to form large villages, provided with hotels, shops, _cafés_, and lodging-houses. the turks delight in going up in their caiques to some of these places, and sitting out on the platforms over the water, while the chibouque or narghile confers on them a zoophytic happiness; and the greatest object of turkish ambition is to enjoy the pleasures of a kiosk on the bosphorus. the waters abound in fish, and droves of porpoises and dolphins disport in myriads on its surface, plashing and playing about, as with easy roll they cleave their way against its rapid flood, or gambolling about in the plenitude of their strength and security, till a sword-fish takes a dig at them, and sets them off curvetting and snorting like sea-horses. hawks, kites, buzzards, and sea eagles are numerous, and large flocks of a kind of gregarious petrel of a dusky hue, with whitish breasts, called by the french _âmes damneés_, which are believed never to rest, keep flying up and down close to the water. amidst such scenery the expeditionary flotilla began its voyage at eleven o'clock. it consisted of two steamers for staff officers and horses, seven steamers for troops and chargers, one for pack horses, four sailing transports for horse artillery, and two transports for commissariat animals. off tophané, frigates, some of them double-banked, displayed the red flag with the silver crescent moon and star of the ottoman porte. they were lying idly at rest there, and might have been much better employed, if not at kavarna bay, certainly in cruising about the greek archipelago. [sidenote: varna.] it was five o'clock ere the last steamer which had to wait for the transports got under weigh again, and night had set in before they reached the entrance of the black sea. as they passed the forts (which are pretty frequent towards the euxine), the sentries yelled out strange challenges and burned blue lights, and blue lights answered from our vessels in return; so that at times the whole of the scene put one in mind of a grand fairy spectacle; and it did not require any great stretch of the imagination to believe that the trees were the work of grieve--that stanfield had dashed in the waters and ships--that the forts were of pasteboard, and the clouds of gauze lighted up by a property man--while those moustachioed soldiers, with red fez caps or tarbouches, eccentric blue coats and breeches, and white belts, might fairly pass for surrey supernumeraries. out went the blue lights!--we were all left as blind as owls at noontide; but our eyes recovered, the stars at last began to twinkle, two lights shone, or rather bleared hazily on either bow--they marked the opening of the bosphorus into the euxine. we shot past them, and a farewell challenge and another blue halo showed the sentries were wide-awake. we were in the black sea, and, lo! sea and sky and land were at once shut out from us! a fog, a drifting, clammy, nasty mist, bluish-white, and cold and raw, fell down upon us like a shroud, obscured the stars and all the lights of heaven, and stole with a slug-like pace down yard and mast and stays, stuck to the face and beard, rendered the deck dark as a graveyard, and forced us all down to a rubber and coffee. this was genuine black sea weather. later in the night we passed through a fleet which we took to be turkish men-of-war, but it was impossible to make them out, and but for the blockade of their ports these vessels might have been russians.[ ] in the morning the same haze continued drifting about and hugging the land; but once it rose and disclosed a steamer in shore, with a transport cast off hovering about it, just as a hen watches a chicken. the _vesuvius_ fired a gun, and after some time the steamer managed to take the transport in tow again, and proceeded to rejoin the squadron. we subsequently found it was the _megæra_. the line of land was marked by a bank of white clouds, and the edge of the sea horizon was equally obscured. the bulk of the convoy arrived and cast anchor in varna bay before the evening, and the disembarkation of the troops was conducted with such admirable celerity, that they were landed as fast as the vessels came in. large boats had been provided for the purpose, and the french and english men-of-war lent their launches and cutters to tow and carry, in addition to those furnished by the merchantmen. the rifles marched off to their temporary camp under canvas, about a mile away. the th connaught rangers followed, and on our arrival, the bay was alive with boats full of red-coats. the various regiments cheered tremendously as vessel after vessel arrived, but they met with no response from the turkish troops. with difficulty i succeeded in getting a very poor lodging in the house of an armenian dragoman, who forces himself on the staff of the english consulate, and, in company with several officers, remained there for several days, living and eating after the armenian fashion by day, and "pigging" in some very lively "divans" at night, till my horses and servants arrived, when i proceeded to aladyn. in consequence of instructions from home, mr. filder gave orders for the issue of rations for self, servants, and horses. [sidenote: bulgarian cart-drivers.] varna is such a town as only could have been devised by a nomadic race aping the habits of civilized nations. if the lanes are not so ill-paved, so rugged, and so painful to the pedestrian as those of gallipoli; if they are not so crooked and jagged and tortuous; if they are not so complicated and fantastically devious, it is only because nature has set the efforts of man at defiance, and has forbidden the turk to render a town built upon a surface nearly level as unpleasant to perambulate as one founded on a hill-side. after a course of miles,--by shores which remind you, when they can be seen through fogs and vapours, of the coast of devonshire, and which stretch away on the western side of the black sea in undulating folds of greensward rising one above the other, or swell into hilly peaks, all covered with fine verdure, and natural plantations of the densest foliage, so that the scenery has a park-like and cultivated air, which is only belied by the search of the telescope,--the vessel bound to varna rounds a promontory of moderate height on the left, and passing by an earthen fort perched on the summit, anchors in a semicircular bay about a mile and a half in length and two miles across, on the northern side of which is situated the town, so well known by its important relations with the history of the struggles between russia and the porte, and by its siege in . the bay shoals up to the beach, at the apex of the semicircle formed by its shores, and the land is so low at that point that the fresh waters from the neighbouring hills form a large lake, which extends for many miles through the marsh lands and plains which run westward towards shumla. varna is built on a slightly elevated bank of sand on the verge of the sea, of such varying height that in some places the base of the wall around it is on a level with the water, and at others stand twenty or thirty feet above it. below this bank are a series of plains inland, which spread all round the town till they are lost in the hills, which, dipping into the sea in an abrupt promontory on the north-east side, rise in terraces to the height of or feet at the distance of three miles from the town, and stretch away to the westward to meet the corresponding chain of hills on the southern extremities of the bay, thus enclosing the lake and plains between in a sort of natural wall, which is like all the rest of the country, covered with brushwood and small trees. a stone wall of ten feet high, painted white, and loopholed, is built all round the place; and some detached batteries, well provided with heavy guns, but not of much pretension as works of defence, have been erected in advance of the walls on the land side. on the sea-face four batteries are erected provided with heavy guns also--two of them of earthwork and gabions, the other two built with stone parapets and embrasures. peering above these walls, in an irregular jungle of red-tiled roofs, are the houses of the place, with a few minarets towering from the mosques above them. the angles of the work are irregular, but in most instances the walls are so constructed as to admit of a fair amount of flanking fire on an assaulting force. nevertheless, a portion of the inner side of the bay, and other parts are equally accessible to the fire of batteries on the trifling hillocks around the town. the houses of the town are built of wood; it contains about , or , inhabitants, but there is more bustle, and animation, and life in the smallest hamlet in dorsetshire, than here, unless one goes down to the landing place, or visits the bazaar, where the inhabitants flock for pleasure or business. general canrobert and staff reached varna on the morning of the nd of june. he landed about mid-day, and after an extempore levee of the french officers on the beach, proceeded to call on sir george brown. the first thing they did when their sappers arrived at varna, before the english came up, was to break a gateway through the town wall, on its sea-face, to allow troops and provisions to be landed and sent off without a long detour. this proceeding drove the pasha of the place almost deranged, and he died soon afterwards. the cavalry sent by omar pasha was of infinite service in transporting provisions, horses, and cattle. the latter were wretchedly small and lean. a strong man could lift one of the beasts, and there was not so much meat on one of them as on a good english sheep. food was good enough, and plentiful; a fowl could be had for seven piastres-- _s._ _d._; bread and meat were about the same price as in london; a turkey could be procured for half-a-crown; wine was dear, and not good; spirits as cheap as they were bad. omar pasha prohibited the export of grain from all the ports of roumelia. owing to the exertions of omar pasha, and the activity of the commissariat, the quantity of open and covered arabas, or bullock and buffalo carts, which had been collected, was nearly sufficient for the wants of the first division. there was a small army of hairy, wild-looking drivers stalking about the place, admiring the beauties of varna, spear or buffalo goad in hand. the british camp was at first pitched on a plain, covered with scrub and clumps of sweet-brier, about a mile from the town, and half a mile from the fresh-water lake. the water of the lake, however, was not good for drinking--it abounded in animalculæ, not to mention enormous leeches--and the men had to go to the fountains and wells near the town to fill their canteens and cooking-tins. admirals dundas and hamelin came into the bay in order that they might assist at the conferences. a new pasha also arrived, who was supposed to be better fitted to the exigencies of the times than his predecessor. at three o'clock on monday, june th, the light division of the army, consisting of the th, th, rd, rd, th and th regiments, and the second battalion of rifle brigade, with part of the th hussars, the th lancers, and four guns attached, commenced its march from the encampment at varna, on their way to their new encampment at aladyn between kojuk and devna (called in some of the maps dewnos). the infantry halted on a plain about nine miles and a half from the town of varna, close to a fresh-water lake, but the cavalry and artillery continued their march, and pitched tents about eighteen miles from varna, the route being through a rich and fertile country, perfectly deserted and lifeless--not a house, not a human creature to be seen along the whole line of march. when once the traveller left the sandy plain and flat meadow lands which sweep westward for two or three miles from varna, he passed through a succession of fine landscapes, with a waving outline of hills, which he could see on all sides above the thick mass of scrub or cover, pierced by the road, or rather the track, made by horsemen and araba drivers. never were tents pitched in a more lovely spot. when the morning sun had risen it was scarcely possible for one to imagine himself far from england. at the other side of the lake which waters the meadows beneath the hill on which the camp was placed, was a range of high ground, so finely wooded, with such verdant sheets of short crisp grass between the clumps of forest timber, that every one who saw it at once exclaimed, "surely there must be a fine mansion somewhere among those trees!" the camp was pitched on a dry, sandy table-land. on the right-hand side the artillery (captain levinge's troop), the small-arm and ammunition train (captain anderson), and the rocket carriages, caissons, artillery horses, &c., had their quarters. the valley between them and the table-land on which the camp was situated was unoccupied. on the left-hand side, on a beautiful spot overlooking the lake, at a considerable elevation, was the little camp of the commissariat, surrounded by carts and araba drivers, flocks of sheep and goats, and cattle, and vast piles of bread and corn. the rifle camp was placed at the distance of yards from the commissariat camp, on the slope of the table-land, and commanded a beautiful view of the lakes and of the surrounding country; and the th, th, rd, rd, th, and th regiments were encamped close together, so that the lines of canvas were almost unbroken, from one extremity to the other. brigadier-general airey and staff, and drs. alexander, tice, and jameson, had pitched their tents in a meadow close by some trees at the upper end of the encampment. brigadier buller's marquee was close to the lines of his brigade. captain gordon, r.e., the rev. mr. egan, and captain halliwell, had formed a little encampment of their own in a valley a little further on, which is formed by two spurs of land, covered with the thickest foliage and brushwood--hazels, clematis, wild vines, birch, and creeper,--and near at hand were the tents of the sappers and miners. the cavalry were stationed about nine miles further on, close to the village of devna. [sidenote: aladyn.] in front of the rifle camp was a rural burial-ground, long abandoned, probably because there were not many people left to die in the district. it was of the rudest kind. no sculptured stone, not even a scratch of a chisel, distinguished one resting-place from another, but a block of unhewn granite was placed at each grave, and the sappers and miners, who were a most utilitarian corps, selected some of the largest and best of them to serve in the construction of their bridge over one of the narrow channels which join lake to lake. these same sappers had hard work of it in building this bridge. the th company who laboured at it, worked entirely naked and up to their breasts in water for one whole day. it is no wonder that a few of them suffered from fever in consequence. the open country was finely diversified, with abundance of wood and water all around, within easy distance of the route. long lines of storks flew overhead or held solemn reviews among the frogs in the meadows. as for the latter, they were innumerable, and their concerts by day and night would delight the classical scholar who remembered his aristophanes, and who could test the accuracy of the chorus. eagles soared overhead, looking out for dead horses; and vultures, kites, and huge buzzards scoured the plains in quest of vermin, hares, or partridges. beautiful orioles, a blaze of green and yellow, gaudy woodpeckers, apiasters, jays, and grosbeaks, shrieked and chattered among the bushes, while the nightingale poured forth a flood of plaintive melody, aided by a lovely little warbler in a black cap and red waistcoat with bluish facings, who darted about after the flies, and who, when he had caught and eaten one, lighted on a twig and expressed his satisfaction in a gush of exquisite music. blackbirds and thrushes joined in the chorus, and birds of all sorts flitted around in multitudes. the commonest bird of all was the dove, and he was found so good to eat, that his cooing was often abruptly terminated by a dose of no. . on the first morning of my visit, as i rode from the camp, a large snake, about eight feet long and as thick as my arm, wriggled across the path; my horse plunged violently when he saw him, but the snake went leisurely and with great difficulty across the sandy road; when he gained the grass, however, he turned his head round, and darted out a little spiteful-looking tongue with great quickness. a turk behind drew a long barrelled pistol, and was adjusting his aim, when with the quickness of lightning the snake darted into the thicket, and though four of us rode our horses through the cover, we could not find him. he was of a dark green, mottled with white, had a large head of a lighter hue, and protuberant, bright eyes. jackals were said to abound, but probably the wild dogs were mistaken for them. there were traditions in camp concerning roe deer in the hill forests, and the sportsmen found out the tracks of wild boars through the neighbouring hills. huge carp abounded in the lake; and very fine perch, enormous bream, and pike might be had for the taking, but tackle, rods and lines were very scarce in camp. there were no trout in these waters, but perch and pike took large flies very freely, whenever the angler could get through the weeds and marshy borders to take a cast for them. but where are the natives all this time?--come, here is one driving an araba--let us stop and look at him. he is a stout, well-made, and handsome man, with finely-shaped features and large dark eyes; but for all this there is a dull, dejected look about him which rivets the attention. there is no speculation in the orbs which gaze on you, half in dread half in wonder; and if there should be a cavass or armed turk with you, the poor wretch dare not take his look away for a moment, lest he should meet the ready lash, or provoke some arbitrary act of violence. his head is covered with a cap of black sheepskin, with the wool on, beneath which falls a mass of tangled hair, which unites with beard, and whisker, and moustache in forming a rugged mat about the lower part of the face. a jacket made of coarse brown cloth hangs loosely from the shoulders, leaving visible the breast, burnt almost black by exposure to the sun. underneath the jacket is a kind of vest, which is confined round the waist by several folds of a shawl or sash, in which are stuck a yataghan or knife, and a reed pipe-stick. the breeches are made of very rudely-manufactured cloth, wide above and gathered in at the knee; and the lower part of the leg is protected by rags, tied round with bits of old string, which put one in mind of the italian bandit, _à la_ wallack, in a state of extreme dilapidation and poverty. if you could speak with this poor bulgarian, you would find his mind as waste as the land around you. he is a christian after a fashion, but he puts far more faith in charms, in amulets, and in an uncleanly priest and a certain saint of his village, than in prayer or works. he believes the turks are his natural masters; that he must endure meekly what they please to inflict, and that between him and heaven there is only one power and one man strong enough to save him from the most cruel outrages, or to withstand the sovereign sway of the osmanli--and that power is russia, and that man is the czar. his whole fortune is that wretched cart, which he regards as a triumph of construction; and he has driven those lean, fierce-eyed buffaloes many a mile, from some distant village, in the hope of being employed by the commissariat, who offer him what seems to him to be the most munificent remuneration of _s._ _d._ a day for the services of himself, his beasts, and araba. his food is coarse brown bread, or a mess of rice and grease, flavoured with garlic, the odour of which has penetrated his very bones, and spreads in vapour around him. his drink is water, and now and then an intoxicating draught of bad raki or sour country wine. in that abject figure you look in vain for the dash of thracian blood, or seek the descendant of the roman legionary. from whatever race he springs, the bulgarian peasant hereabouts is the veriest slave that ever tyranny created, and as he walks slowly away with downcast eyes and stooping head, by the side of his cart, the hardest heart must be touched with pity at his mute dejection, and hate the people and the rule that have ground him to the dust. [sidenote: the commissariat.] let the reader imagine he is riding in bulgaria any hot eventide in june, ; he will pass many a group of such poor fellows as these. a few miles before him, after leaving varna, he will catch glimpses of english hill-tents through the trees on a beautiful knoll, running down towards the rich marshes at the head of the lake, which he has kept on his left all the way. let us water our horses, for the place is yet some way off. now and then encountering english travellers going to pester omar pasha at shumla, or returning proudly from having done so, we at last draw towards the camp. the report of a gun rings through the woods and covers, and an honest english shout of "what have you hit, jack?" or, "by jove, he's off!" from among the bushes, shows that ensign brown or captain johnson is busy in the pursuit of the sports of the field. private smith, of the rifle brigade, with a goose in each hand, is stalking homewards from the hamlet by the lake-side. mr. flynn, of the connaught rangers, a little the worse for raki, is carrying a lamb on his shoulders, which he is soothing with sentimental ditties; and sergeant macgregor, of the th, and sergeant aprice, of the rd welsh fusileers, are gravely discussing a difficult point of theology on a knoll in front of you. men in fatigue-frocks laden with bundles of sticks or corn, or swathes of fresh grass, are met at every step; and by the stream-side, half hidden by the bushes, there is a rural laundry, whence come snatches of song, mingled with the familiar sounds of washing and lines of fluttering linen, attesting the energies of the british laundress under the most unfavourable circumstances. in a short time the stranger arrives at a mass of araba carts drawn up along the road, through which he threads his way with difficulty, and just as he tops the last hill the tents of the light division, stretching their snowy canvas in regular lines up the slope of the opposite side, come into view. the people of england, who had looked with complacency on the reduction of expenditure in all branches of our warlike establishments, ought not to have been surprised at finding the movements of our army hampered by the results of an injudicious economy. a commissariat officer is not made in a day, nor can the most lavish expenditure effect the work of years, or atone for the want of experience. the hardest-working treasury clerk had necessarily much to learn ere he could become an efficient commissariat officer, in a country which our old campaigners declare to be the most difficult they ever were in for procuring supplies. let those who have any recollections of chobham, just imagine that famous encampment to be placed about ten miles from the sea, in the midst of a country utterly deserted by the inhabitants, the railways from london stopped up, the supplies by the cart or wagon cut off, corn scarcely procurable, carriages impossible, and the only communication between the camp and port carried on by means of buffalo and bullock arabas, travelling about one mile and a half an hour, and they will be able to form some faint idea of the difficulties experienced by those who had to procure the requisite necessaries for the expeditionary forces. to give the reader a notion of the requirements of such a body as an expeditionary army of , men, it may be stated that not less than , horses and mules would be required for the conveyance of their ammunition, baggage, and stores in the field. the movements of the troops were often delayed on account of want of transport. buffalo and bullock carts, and their drivers, vanished into thin air in the space of a night. a bulgarian is a human being after all. a pasha's cavass might tear him away from "his young barbarians all at play;" but when he had received a few three-and-eightpences a day, off he started the moment the eye of the guard was removed, and, taking unknown paths and mountain roadways, sought again the miserable home from which he had been taken. the people were so shy, it was impossible to establish friendly relations with them. the inhabitants of the bulgarian village of aladyn, close to the camp at the borders of the lake, abandoned their houses altogether. not one living creature remained out of the or people who were there on our arrival. their houses were left wide open, and such of their household goods as they could not remove, and a few cocks and hens that could not be caught, were all that was left behind. the cause generally assigned for this exodus was the violence of a few ruffians on two or three occasions, coupled with groundless apprehension of further outrages--others said it was because we established our slaughter-houses there. certainly the smell was abominable. diarrhoea broke out in the camp soon after my arrival, and continued to haunt us all during the summer. much of this increase of disease must be attributed to the use of the red wine of the country, sold at the canteens of the camp; but, as the men could get nothing else, they thought it was better to drink than the water of the place. there were loud complaints from officers and men from this score, and especially on account of the porter and ale they were promised not being dealt out to them; and the blame was laid, as a matter of course, on the shoulders of sir george brown. while the men of the light division lay outside varna they were furnished with porter; but on moving further off they were deprived of it, and the reasons given for the deprivation were various, but the result was manifest. the men heard that the soldiers of the other divisions near varna got their pint of porter a day, and that they should be dissatisfied at this distinction is not surprising. a draught of good porter, with the thermometer at ° or ° in the shade, would be a luxury which a "thirsty soul" in london could never understand. it was evident that some wholesome drink ought to have been provided for the men, to preserve them from the attacks of sickness in a climate where the heat was so great and the supply of pure water inadequate. many of the officers rode into varna, bought salt, tobacco, tea, and spirits, and brought it out in the saddle-bags, either to distribute gratuitously or at cost price to their men. this was an immense boon, particularly as the men, except servants on leave, were not allowed to go into varna. a small stock of preserved potatoes was sent out, but it was soon exhausted. [sidenote: arrival of the guards at varna.] after i had been a few days at aladyn, i rode down to varna, and was astonished at the change which the place had undergone. old blind side walls had been broken down, and shops opened, in which not only necessaries, but even luxuries, could be purchased; the streets, once so dull and silent, re-echoed the laughter and rattle of dominoes in the newly-established _cafés_. wine merchants and sutlers from algiers, oran, constantine, marseilles, toulon, had set up booths and shops, at which liqueurs, spirits, and french and country wines, could be purchased at prices not intolerably high. the natives had followed the example. strings of german sausages, of dried tongues, of wiry hams, of bottles of pickles, hung from the rafters of an old turkish khan, which but a few days before was the abode of nothing but unseemly insects; and an empty storehouse was turned into a nicely whitewashed and gaily painted "restaurant de l'armée d'orient pour messieurs les officiers et sous-officiers." the names of the streets, according to a gallic nomenclature, printed in black on neat deal slips, were fixed to the walls, so that one could find his way from place to place without going through the erratic wanderings which generally mark the stranger's progress through a turkish town. one lane was named the rue ibrahim, another rue de l'hôpital, a third rue yusuf; the principal lane was termed the corso, the next was rue des postes françaises; and, as all these names were very convenient, and had a meaning attached to them, no sneering ought to deter one from confessing that the french manage these things better than we do. did any one want to find general canrobert? he had but to ask the first frenchman he met and he would tell him to go up the corso, turn to the right, by the end of the rue de l'hôpital, and there was the name of the general painted in large letters over the door of his quarters. the french post-office and the french hospital were sufficiently indicated by the names of the streets. where at this period was the english post-office? no one knew. where did the english general live? no one knew. where was the hospital for sick soldiers? no one knew. on the th, the th dragoon guards, which left cork on the th of may, were landed from the _himalaya_. the french from gallipoli had already approached the lower balkans. lord raglan was confined for some days to his quarters at scutari by illness. the duke of cambridge and his staff landed on the th of june, and with him came the brigade of guards. the disembarkation of the guards was effected, and with a rapidity and comfort which conferred great credit on the officers. the french assisted with the most hearty goodwill. of their own accord the men of the artillery and the chasseurs came down to the beach, helped to load buffalo carts, and to thump the drivers, to push the natives out of the way, to show the road, and, in fact, to make themselves generally useful. chapter vi. camp life--good news from silistria--forces in and near varna--egyptian troops--omar pasha visits the camp--bono, johnny--affair at giurgevo--the black virgin--levies from india--council of war--ominous signs. the fraternity established between the french and english troops became daily more affectionate, and individual friendships soon sprang up, all the closer, perhaps, for a squabble now and then, which ended in the _redintegratio amoris_; but it was evident that it did not answer to let the troops of the two nations mingle indiscriminately in crowded market-places, and we were well satisfied that we were in advance towards the danube. from all i could see, i was convinced of the sagacity of the opinion of marshal st. arnaud, who objected to the march of the english dragoons through france on their way to the east. on saturday, the th of june, a tatar with an escort rode past the camp by the shumla road, at full speed for varna, and, on arriving there, repaired to the quarters of marshal st. arnaud and lord raglan, with dispatches from omar pasha. the two commanders-in-chief held a conference, at which several of the french and english generals were present, and on the same evening two steamers left the port of varna with dispatches, one for constantinople, and the other for the admirals at baltschik. on the previous wednesday, thursday, and friday the noise of a distant cannonade had been heard at intervals by the outlying pickets in the direction of silistria, and hypothesis and conjecture were busy hatching _canards_, which flew about the tents in ever-varying plumage and form. but on saturday the great fact was known in varna, and soon travelled out here, that the siege of silistra was raised, and that the russians were in full retreat from the scene of their discomfiture--so precipitately that their route could not be ascertained. a reconnaissance was ordered to be undertaken by lord cardigan by yeni bazaar and to the eastward of shumla, towards hadschi oghlu, to ascertain if the enemy had retreated across the danube. [sidenote: turco-egyptian troops.] on the th prince napoleon arrived, to take the command of his division, and was received with the usual salute of guns from each french man-of-war in harbour. our vessels paid him the more modest compliment of one royal salute, and hoisting the french imperial ensign. on the same day a part of the th regiment, and detachments of the rest of the gallipoli division, under sir r. england, arrived in varna, and some of the baggage of adams's brigade, as well as detachments of the st, th, and th regiments. portions of several french regiments also landed. the plain round varna, for three miles, was covered with tents. grass, herbage, and shrubs disappeared, and the fields were turned into an expanse of sand, ploughed up by araba wheels, and the feet of oxen and horses, and covered with towns of canvas. there could not have been less than , men encamped around the place, including french, english, egyptians, and turks, and the town itself was choked in every street with soldiery. more than vessels were at anchor in the bay, in readiness to sail at a moment's notice. upwards of carts came in from the turkish army to carry stores and provisions towards shumla and the danube. a review of about , turco-egyptian troops was held on the plain behind varna, on the day the tatar brought the news of the raising of the siege of silistria. the men, who were dressed in clean white trousers, blue frocks, and green jackets, looked well, in spite of their ill-shod feet and ragged jerkins; but their manoeuvres were carelessly performed and done in a listless manner. physically the soldiers were square-built, bow-legged men, of fair average height, with fierce, eager eyes, and handsome features. a number of negroes, of savage aspect, were among the egyptian contingent, and some of their best regiments did not disdain the command of nubian eunuchs. some of these egyptians were mutilated in the hands, and had deprived themselves of their thumbs or fore-fingers--a useless attempt to escape conscription altogether. the french and english officers did not form a high opinion of anything but the raw material of which the troops were composed,--a raw material which, like everything else in turkey, had been spoilt as much as possible by the genius of mal-administration. behind stone walls, defending a breach, or in a sortie, the osmanli, with his courage, fanaticism, and disregard of death, which he considers indeed as his passport to heaven, may repel organized european troops; but no one who sees the slow, cautious, and confused evolutions of the turks, their straggling advance and march, their shaky squares and wavering columns, can believe they could long stand against a regular army in the open field. their file firing was anything but good, and a spattering of musketry was kept up from rank to rank long after the general discharge had ceased. the men had all polished musket-barrels, in imitation of the french, and their arms appeared to be kept in a most creditable order. the egyptian field-pieces, six and nine-pounder guns of brass, were beautifully clean and neat, and the carriages, though rather heavy, were, perhaps, well suited to the country. the gunners seemed to understand their business thoroughly, and the carriages shone with scrubbing, varnish, and fresh paint; the men alone were dirty. they retired to their tents very little fatigued, and partook of very excellent rations, beef and mutton made into pilaff, and lard or grease in lieu of butter. their tents were just as commodious and as good as our own, but they put more men into each than we were in the habit of doing. on the th of june the bulk of the british troops quitted their original position at varna. the light division, under sir george brown, left their quarters on the plateau near aladyn, and marched to devna, about eight and a half or nine miles off; on that day, and on saturday morning, the first division, under his royal highness the duke of cambridge, marched from their encampment outside varna, and pitched their tents on the plateau of aladyn, with their left flank resting on the ground which had just been abandoned by the rifle brigade, and their right extending to the plains lately used by the light division as parading and drill ground. sickness and diarrhoea in the camp were greatly on the decline; sore lips were common, principally from exposure to the sun. the duke's division seemed to grow beards with impunity. his royal highness, who lived out close to his division under canvas, having abandoned his quarters in varna within a few days after he got into them, had his men's parades and field-days before nine o'clock. the brigadiers preferred the hours between nine and noon, under the impression that the sun was not so powerful then, on account of the forenoon breezes, as it was earlier in the morning. we had a thunderstorm almost every day, and very grateful it was, for the temperature was always lowered ten or twelve degrees by the rain and electrical discharges. the commissariat were doing their duty manfully. the quality of the meat was really very good, though the doctors thought a pound a day was not enough for each man in such a climate, especially as the meat was rather deficient in nutritious quality. [sidenote: omar pasha visits the camp.] on the rd of july, news arrived that omar pasha was on his way from silistria to varna, and might be expected in an hour. the turkish infantry on the plains below were observed to fall in, and draw up in front of their tents. about two o'clock a faint streak of dust rose over the white lines of the road winding far in the distance over the hills which lie towards shumla, and through the glass could be discerned two travelling carriages, with a small escort of horse, moving rapidly towards the village of devna, and the whole of the staff hastened to pay their respects to omar pasha, who mounted his horse, and attended by his suite and followers, rode up the hill towards the camp, in the front of which the division was drawn up in line. the _coup d'oeil_ was magnificent. the blue outlines of the distant hills, over which played the heavy shadows of rapidly-gathering thunder-clouds--the green sweep of the valley below dotted with tents, and marked here and there with black masses of turkish infantry--the arid banks of sand, and grey cliffs, displaying every variety of light and shadow--and then the crest of the hill, along which for a mile shone the bayonets of the british infantry, topped by the canvas walls behind them--formed a spectacle worth coming far to see. omar pasha was dressed with neatness and simplicity--no order but the star of the medjidji glittered on his breast, and his close-fitting blue frock-coat displayed no ornament beyond a plain gold shoulder-strap and gilt buttons. he wore the fez cap, which showed to advantage the clear, well-marked lines of his calm and resolute face, embrowned by exposure to wind and weather for many a year of a soldier's life, and the hue of which was well contrasted with his snow-white whiskers. in the rude and rather sensual mouth, with compressed thick lips, were traceable, if physiognomy have truth, enormous firmness and resolution. the chin, full and square, evinced the same qualities, which might also be discerned in the general form of the head. those who remember the statue of radetsky, at the great exhibition, will understand what this means. all the rougher features, the coarse nose, and the slight prominence of the cheek-bones, were more than redeemed by the quick, penetrating, and expressive eye, full of quiet courage and genius, and by the calm though rather stubborn brow, marked by lines of thought, rising above the thick shaggy eyebrow. in person he appeared to be rather below than above the ordinary height; but his horse, a well-trained grey, was not so tall as the english chargers beside him, and he may really be more than five feet seven or eight. his figure was light, spare, and active, and his seat on horseback, though too turkish for our notions of equestrian propriety, was firm and easy. he wore white gloves and neat boots, and altogether would have passed muster very well in the ring at hyde-park as a well-appointed quiet gentleman. his staff were by no means so well turned out, but the few hussars of the escort were stout, soldierlike-looking fellows. one of them led a strong chestnut arab, which was the pasha's battle charger. as he rode by the troops presented arms, and when he had reached the end of the line they broke into column, advanced and performed some simple field-day manoeuvres, to the great delight of the pasha. as the men moved off after exercising for about three-quarters of an hour, the cavalry came up at full trot, and at once riveted the attention of the pasha. there were one and a half squadron of the th lancers, a troop of the th, and a troop of the th hussars. the artillery horses and dragoon horses were out at water. about six o'clock, after reviewing the turks in the plain, he drove on to varna. sir george brown returned soon after from a forty-mile ride through the rain, and rode over to see the brigadier. he was much disappointed at not being in time to receive omar pasha. for some days , bashi-bazouks and militia were encamped close to our cavalry camp, and every day performed irregular evolutions in the plains below, and made the night hideous with their yells and challenges. on wednesday, the th of july, to the great relief of all their neighbours, our friends moved off to varna, with great flourishing of lances, swords, and trumpets, headed by ragged red banners, there to be placed under the mild rule of general yusuf, the famous algerine commander, who had tamed so many of the wild tribes of the desert to the french yoke. in all the villages about tales were told of the violence of these ruffians--they were true types of the mussulman "soldiery" as they are yet to be found in asia, and as they would have been, perhaps, even in the camp, if the eye of europe had not been upon them. a common practice among them during their march through this very district was to take away the sons and young children of the miserable bulgarians, and demand a ransom. a poor widow's only son was carried off by them. they put a price on his head she could not pay. she told the chief of the party so, and offered all she had to give to the scoundrel, but he would not accept the sum; and she had never seen her son since. one would have thought that general yusuf was the very man to get these gentry into order; but the result proved that he was unable to subdue their settled habits of irregularity. omar pasha did great good by a little wholesome severity. he seized on whole hordes of them, took their horses and accoutrements, and sent them off to be enlisted by compulsory levy into the armies of the faithful as foot soldiers. their camp, just outside the town, was worth a journey to see. their tents were all pitched regularly, instead of being thrown down higgledy-piggledy all over the ground, and their horses (nearly all stallions--such neighing and kicking, and biting and fighting as goes on among them all day!) were neatly tethered in lines, like those of regular cavalry. there were about , of these wild cavaliers, and it would have been difficult to find more picturesque-looking scoundrels, if the world was picked for them from scinde to mexico. many of them were splendid-looking fellows, with fine sinewy legs, beautifully proportioned, muscular arms, and noble, well-set heads, of the true caucasian mould; others were hideous negroes from nubia, or lean, malignant-looking arabs, with sinister eyes and hungry aspect; and some were dirty marabouts, fanatics from mecca, inflamed by the influence of their hadj, or pilgrimage. they were divided into five regiments, and each man was paid a franc a-day by the french authorities. for this reason many of our bashis "bolted" from colonel beatson and the english officers, and joined the french. colonel beatson had no money to pay them, and, indeed, it was not very clear that he had the sanction, or at all events the approbation, of lord raglan, whatever countenance he may have received from the home authorities. as omar pasha moved northwards, and left a larger extent of ground between his army and the allies without military occupation, these wild and reckless men, deserting from both beatson and yusuf, became more and more troublesome, and began to indulge in their old habits of violence and plunder. [sidenote: bono, johnny!] omar pasha left varna early on thursday, the th of july, and, on arriving at aladyn, found the duke of cambridge's division ready to receive him. he expressed his admiration at the magnificent appearance of the guards and highlanders, and after the review he retired with his royal highness the duke to his tent, where he remained for some time, and partook of some refreshment. about two o'clock omar pasha's travelling carriages, escorted by turkish cavalry, appeared in sight of our camp. the pasha was received by lord raglan, sir george brown, brigadier-general scarlett, the brigadiers of division. after a time the th dragoon guards went past in splendid order, and then the two troops of royal horse artillery and the battery, which did just what they are wont to do when his royal highness saxe-some-place-or-other visits woolwich, moving like one man, wheeling as if men, horses, and guns formed part of one machine, sweeping the plain with the force and almost the speed of steam engines, unlimbering guns, taking them to pieces, putting them together, and vanishing in columns of dust. they came by at a trot, which was gradually quickened into a dashing gallop, so that the six-pound and nine-pound guns, and carriages, and tumbrils, went hopping and bounding over the sward. a charge in line, which shook the very earth as men and horses flew past like a whirlwind, wreathed in clouds of dust, particularly excited the pasha's admiration, and he is reported to have said, "with one such regiment as that i would ride over and grind into the earth four russian regiments at least." he was particularly struck by the stature of the men, and the size and fine condition of the horses, both dragoon and artillery; but these things did not lead him away from examining into the more important question of their efficiency, and he looked closely at accoutrements, weapons, and carriages. at his request sir george brown called a dragoon, and made him take off his helmet. the pasha examined it minutely, had the white cover taken off, and requested that the man should be asked whether it was comfortable or not. the inspection was over at half-past three o'clock, to the great delight of the men; and omar pasha, who repeatedly expressed his gratification and delight at the spectacle, retired with the generals to sir george brown's quarters, and in the course of the evening renewed his journey to shumla. there was one phrase which served as the universal exponent of peace, goodwill, praise, and satisfaction between the natives and the soldiery. its origin cannot be exactly determined, but it probably arose from the habit of our men at malta in addressing every native as "johnny." at gallipoli the soldiers persisted in applying the same word to turk and greek, and at length turk and greek began to apply it to ourselves, so that stately generals and pompous colonels, as they stalked down the bazaar, heard themselves addressed by the proprietors as "johnny;" and to this appellation "bono" was added, to signify the excellence of the wares offered for public competition. it became the established cry of the army. the natives walked through the camp calling out "bono, johnny! sood, sood" (milk)! "bono, johnny! yoomoortler" (eggs)! or, "bono, johnny! kasler" (geese)! as the case might be; and the dislike of the contracting parties to the terms offered on either side was expressed by the simple phrase of "no bono, johnny." as you rode along the road friendly natives grinned at you, and thought, no matter what your rank, that they had set themselves right with you and paid a graceful compliment by a shout of "bono, johnny." even the dignified reserve of royal dukes and generals of division had to undergo the ordeal of this salutation from pashas and other dignitaries. if a benighted turk, riding homewards, was encountered by a picquet of the light division, he answered the challenge of "who goes there?" with a "bono, johnny," and was immediately invited to "advance, friend, and all's well!" and the native servants sometimes used the same phrase to disarm the anger of their masters. it was really a most wonderful form of speech, and, judiciously applied, it might, at that time, have "worked" a man from one end of turkey in europe to the other. the most singular use of it was made when omar pasha first visited the camp. after the infantry had been dismissed to their tents, they crowded to the front of their lines in fatigue jackets and frocks to see the pasha go by, and as he approached them a shout of "bono! bono! johnny!" rent the air, to the great astonishment of omar, while a flight of "foragers" gave him some notion of a british welcome. he smiled and bowed several times in acknowledgment, but it was said that as the whoops, hurrahs, and yells of the connaught rangers rang in his ears, he turned to one of the officers near him, and said, "these are noble-looking fellows, but it must be very hard to keep them in order!" he could not comprehend how such freedom could be made consistent with strict discipline in the ranks. early in july lord cardigan returned to camp with the detachments of light cavalry, with which he effected an extended _reconnaissance_ along the banks of the danube, towards rustchuk and silistria. the men were without tents, and bivouacked for seventeen nights; in a military point of view, the _reconnaissance_ effected very little service. on the th, the _vesuvius_, captain powell, and the _spitfire_, captain spratt, were cruising off the sulina mouth of the danube, and it occurred to the two captains that they would feel their way up to the scene of poor captain parker's death. on the morning of the th, lieut. a. l. mansell, of the _spitfire_, went up towards the bar in one of the boats, and ascertained from the captain of an austrian vessel coming down that there was one small buoy left to mark the channel over the bar. he ran up accordingly, found the buoy, and discovered that there was eleven feet of water on the bar, instead of six or seven as is generally reported. the channel was found to be about a cable's length across, and when lieut. a. l. mansell had buoyed it down he returned to the ships, which were ready with their paddle-box boats, their launches, gigs, and cutters. this little flotilla proceeded up the river, destroying the stockades as it passed, without a show of resistance, and at last came to the small town of sulina, on which the boats opened fire. only three musket-shots were fired in return, and at three o'clock p.m. the place was a heap of ruins, nothing being spared but the church and lighthouse. on the th of july, omar pasha having slowly advanced from his camp opposite rutschuk, on the track of the retreating russians, entered the town of bucharest, and took military possession of wallachia. [sidenote: the black virgin.] on the th, an old woman, said to be fatima honoum, the karakizla (black virgin), kurdish chieftainess, passed through devno on her way from varna, attended by a rabble rout of thirty or forty bashi-bazouks. she stopped at a rude khan or café, and enjoyed her pipe for a time, so that one had an opportunity of seeing this turkish semiramis. she appeared to be a lean, withered, angular old woman, of some seventy years of age, with a face seamed and marked in every part of its dark mahogany-coloured surface with rigid wrinkles. her nose was hooked and skinny--her mouth toothless and puckered--her eyes piercing black, restless, and sinister, with bleary lids, and overhung by tufty grey brows. her neck, far too liberally exhibited, resembled nothing so much as the stem of an ill-conditioned, gnarly young olive tree. with most wanton and unjustifiable disregard of the teachings of mahomet and of the prejudices of mussulmans, she showed all her face, and wore no yashmak. her attire consisted of a green turban, dirty and wrinkled as her face; an antiquated red jacket, with remnants of embroidery, open in front, and showing, as far as mortal sight could gaze upon it, the lady's bosom; a handsome shawl waist scarf, filled with weapons, such as knives, pistols, and yataghans, and wide blue breeches. hanoum was a spinster, and her followers believed her to be a prophetess. the followers were bashi-bazouks _pur sang_, very wild and very ragged, and stuck all over with weapons, like porcupines with spines. their horses were lean and scraggy, and altogether it was a comfort to see this interesting virgin queen of the kurds on her way to shumla. the lady refused to visit our camp, and seemed to hold the giaour in profound contempt. we never heard of her afterwards, but she was remarkable as being the only lady who took up arms for the cause in this celebrated war. next day, some five-and-twenty horsemen rode into the village, attired in the most picturesque excesses of the osmanli; fine, handsome, well-kempt men, with robes and turbans a blaze of gay colours, and with arms neat and shining from the care bestowed on them. they said they came from peshawur and other remote portions of the north-western provinces of the indian peninsula, and while the officer who was conversing with them was wondering if their tale could be true, the officer in charge of the party came forward and announced himself as an englishman. it turned out to be mr. walpole, formerly an officer in our navy, whose charming book on the east is so well known, and it appeared that the men under his command were indian mahomedans, who had come up on their pilgrimage to mecca, and who, hearing of the turkish crusade against the infidels, had rushed to join the standard of the sultan. they were ordered to be attached to colonel beatson's corps of bashi-bazouks, and to form a kind of body-guard to the colonel, whose name is so well known in india. mr. walpole seemed quite delighted with his command, and, as he had the power of life and death, he imagined there would be no difficulty in repressing the irregularities of his men. a council of war was held on tuesday, july th, at varna, at which marshal st. arnaud, lord raglan, admiral hamelin, admiral dundas, admiral lyons, and admiral bruat were present, and it was resolved that the time had come for an active exercise of the powers of the allied forces by sea and land. the english cabinet, urged probably by the english press, which on this occasion displayed unusual boldness in its military counsels and decision in its suggestions of hostility against the enemy, had despatched the most positive orders to lord raglan to make a descent in the crimea, and to besiege sebastopol, of which little was known except that it was the great arsenal of russia in the black sea. on the th orders were sent out by lord raglan to sir george brown, at devno, to proceed to headquarters at varna immediately. sir george brown lost no time in obeying the summons. he sent a portion of his baggage on at once, and went on to varna, attended by his aide-de-camp, captain pearson. lord raglan and his second in command had a long conversation, and on thursday morning, the th, sir george brown, attended by captain pearson, colonel lake, of the royal artillery, captain lovell, of the royal engineers, &c., went on board the _emeu_, captain smart, and immediately proceeded to the fleets at baltschik. at the same time general canrobert, attended by colonels trochu, leboeuf, and sabatier, took ship for the same destination. the generals went on board the flag ships of the respective admirals, and stood out to sea, steering towards the crimea, on board her majesty's ship _fury_. of course, the object of this expedition was kept a dead secret; but it was known, nevertheless, that they went to explore the coast in the neighbourhood of sebastopol, in order to fix upon a place for the descent. on the st the st division of the french army, general canrobert and general forey's division, struck their tents, and broke up their camp outside varna. they took the road which led towards the dobrudscha, which they were to reconnoitre as far as the danube, and on the nd general yusuf followed with his wild gathering of bashi-bazouks, numbering , sabres, lances, and pistols. [sidenote: ominous signs.] the result of this expedition was one of the most fruitless and lamentable that has ever occurred in the history of warfare. the french marshal, terrified by the losses of his troops, which the cholera was devastating by hundreds in their camps at gallipoli and varna, and alarmed by the deaths of the duc d'elchingen and general carbuccia, resolved to send an expedition into the dobrudscha, where there were--as colonel desaint, chief of the french topographical department, declared on his return from an exploration--about , russians, two regiments of regular cavalry, sotnias of cossacks, and pieces of artillery. marshal st. arnaud, who was confident that the expedition for the crimea would be ready by the th of august, and that the descent would take place on the th of the same month, imagined that by a vigorous attack on these detached bodies of men he might strike a serious blow at the enemy, raise the spirits and excite the confidence of the allies, remove his troops from the camp where they were subject to such depressing influences, and effect all this in time to enable them to return and embark with the rest of the army. it has been said that he proposed to lord raglan to send a body of english troops along with his own, but there is, i believe, no evidence of the fact. the st division was commanded by general espinasse, and started on the st for kostendji; the nd division, under general bosquet, marched on the nd towards bajardik, and the rd division, under prince napoleon, followed the next day and served as a support to the nd. all the arrangements were under the control of general yusuf. having passed through the ruined districts of mangalia, the st division reached kostendji on the th of july. they found that the whole country had been laid waste by fire and sword--the towns and villages burnt and destroyed, the stock and crops carried off. a cavalry affair took place on the same day between yusuf's bashi-bazouks and some russian cavalry, in which the former behaved so well that the general, aided by , zouaves, pushed forward to make an attack on the enemy, and wrote to general espinasse to march to his assistance. on that night, just ere the french broke up their camp at babadagh, in order to set out on this march, the cholera declared itself among them with an extraordinary and dreadful violence. between midnight and eight o'clock next morning nearly men lay dead in their tents smitten by the angel of death! at the same moment the division of espinasse was stricken with equal rapidity and violence at kerjelouk. all that night men suffered and died, and on the st of july general yusuf made his appearance at kostendji with the remains of his haggard and horror-stricken troops, and proceeded towards mangalia in his death march. on the st of august general canrobert, who had returned from his _reconnaissance_, arrived at kostendji from varna, and was horrified to find that his camp was but a miserable hospital, where the living could scarcely bury the remains of their comrades. he could pity and could suffer, but he could not save. that day and the next the pestilence redoubled in intensity, and in the midst of all these horrors food fell short, although the general had sent most urgent messages by sea to varna for means of transport, and for medicine and the necessaries of life. the nd and the rd divisions were also afflicted by the same terrible scourge, and there was nothing left for the generals but to lead their men back to their encampments as soon as they could, leaving behind them the dead and the dying. the details of the history of this expedition, which cost the french more than , men, are among the most horrifying and dreadful of the campaign. on returning to varna the bashi-bazouks, tired of the settled forms of a camp life, and impatient of french drill, and the superintendence of brutal or rude non-commissioned officers, began to desert _en masse_, and on the th of august the corps was declared disbanded, and general yusuf was obliged to admit his complete failure. we return to varna, where we find the same awful plague of the later days of the world developing itself with increasing strength and vigour. all june and july i lived in camp at aladyn and devno, with the light division, making occasional excursions into varna or over to the camps of the other divisions; and although, the heat was at times very great indeed, there were no complaints among the men, except that diarrhoea began to get common about the beginning of july. on st. swithin's day we had a heavy fall of rain, some thunder and lightning, and a high wind. on the th i heard several of my friends complaining of depression, heaviness, ennui, &c., and "wishing to do something," and the men exhibited traces of the same feeling. on the night of the th, having gone down towards the river to visit captain anderson, of the artillery, i was struck by the appearance of prodigious multitudes of small dark beetles, which blew out our candles, and crawled all over the tents in swarms. on the th, as i expected there would be a move down to varna, and wanted to get some articles of outfits, i rode down there with some officers. up to this time there had been no case of cholera in the light division; but early on sunday morning, rd, it broke out with the same extraordinary violence and fatal effect which had marked its appearance in the french columns, and the camp was broken up forthwith, and the men marched to monastir, nine miles further on, towards the balkans. chapter vii. the angel of death--rations--army payments--turkish outrages--cholera--french hospital--captain burke--the fire at varna--progress of the cholera--preparations for a move--final deliberations--embarkation of the troops--array of transports--suspense. it will be seen that the cholera first appeared among the troops at varna, but the english forces were tolerably free from it till it had been among the french for nearly three weeks. a good deal of sickness prevailed among the turkish and egyptian troops. diarrhoea was only too prevalent. nearly every one had it in his turn. the quantity of apricots ("kill johns") and hard crude fruit which were devoured by the men, might in some degree account for the prevalence of this debilitating malady. the commissariat bread was not so good as at first, and speedily turned sour; but the officers took steps to remedy the evil by the erection of ovens in the camp. as the intensity of the sun's rays increased, the bread served out to us from the varna bakeries became darker, more sour, and less baked. as a general rule, the french bread was lighter and better than our own, and yet they suffered as much from diarrhoea as our troops. in varna the inhabitants suffered from the pestilence as much as the troops. many of them fled from the town, and encamped near the neighbouring villages. turks and greeks suffered alike, and perished "like flies," to use their own image. illness increased; on the th of july there were thirty-three cases of cholera in our hospital, and a much larger number in the french hospital. the duke of cambridge was suffering from diarrhoea; indeed, a large percentage of officers of the different divisions had been attacked by this complaint, but great precautions were taken by the medical officers to prevent neglect in the early stages, and to cheek the premonitory symptoms. [sidenote: army payments.] the heavy dragoons at varna, although encamped on a lovely plateau on a promontory by the sea-side, the healthiest-looking site that could have been chosen by a medical board, in a few days lost twenty-six men from cholera--a large number out of such skeleton regiments. the ration was increased to - / lb. of meat, and a ration of rum was issued. drilling and tight stocking began to fall into disuse, and, by a general order, moustachios were allowed, according to the pleasure of officers and men. no less than , pounds' weight of corn, chopped straw, &c., was issued daily for the horses. to this was added all the full rations of meat, , lb. of bread, proportionate quantities of rice, tea, coffee, sugar, &c., for the men. the commissariat had, besides, the horses, carts, saddles, packsaddles, tents, carriages for dragoons, light cavalry, infantry, artillery, sappers and miners, to find interpreters. commissary-general filder's office in varna was like a bank in the city in the height of business. the officers at the other branch departments were equally busy, and it was not unusual for some of them to ride to varna and back to devno, a distance of more than forty miles, between sunrise and sunset. we paid in ready money, and a commissariat chest, under the care of mr. cowan, was established at shumla, to keep our officers supplied with gold and silver. the french, on the contrary, gave cheques on their commissariat chest at varna, which were only payable on presentation there. it can readily be imagined that a peasant at the other side of the balkans, or an ignorant bulgarian up the country, regarded this printed paper with huge disdain, and it was certainly rather hard to have to journey from roumelia into bulgaria in order to get _s._ or _s._ for the hire of an araba. the araba drivers were suspicious, and grew sulky and discontented. as soon as they were paid any large sum they sought, and generally with success, the first opportunity of getting away from our service. sir george brown and sir e. lyons went down to constantinople on board the _agamemnon_, on the st of august, and for several days they were busily engaged in making arrangements for the transport of the fleet, and in the preparation of boats and provisions. positive orders were received by lord raglan to attack sebastopol. on the th he had despatched sir george brown and several english officers to make a _reconnaissance_ conjointly with general canrobert and officers of the french head-quarters staff. on the th of july the commission returned after a cruise, in which they had been enabled to count the very guns of sebastopol. in the course of their _reconnaissance_ they coasted slowly along the west face of the shore from eupatoria southwards, and at the mouth of the katcha discovered a beach, which the english and french generals decided on making the site of their landing. the _fury_ stood off the port quietly at night, and about two o'clock ran in softly, and stopped within , yards of the batteries. there she remained till six o'clock in the morning. as the general was counting the guns, an officer observed a suspicious movement, and in a moment afterwards a shot roared through the rigging. this was a signal to quit, and the _fury_ steamed out of the harbour as fast as she could; but the shot came after her still faster. a shell burst close to her, and one shot went through her hull. signs of a move soon became unmistakable. on the th july the turkish fleet and the transports, which had been lying in the bosphorus, left their anchorage for varna, carrying with them pontoons and siege guns. the preparations made at varna for the embarkation of the english forces were hailed with satisfaction by officers and men, tired of the monotony of life in this wretched country, and depressed by the influence of illness and laborious idleness. it was not then known where they were going to; but, in the absence of any exact knowledge respecting the destination of the troops, conjecture pointed with unsteady finger to odessa, anapa, suchum-kaleh, or sebastopol. there were, however, divided counsels and _timides avis_. lord de ros, admiral dundas, and admiral hamelin, were notoriously opposed to the descent on the crimea; marshal st. arnaud did not like to attack sebastopol, nor was sir george brown very sanguine of success. the force of the russians in the crimea was supposed to be upwards of , men, but considerable reinforcements might have been sent there of which we knew nothing. the russians were well served by their spies, and were acquainted with all our movements; neither marshal st. arnaud nor lord raglan had equal means of intelligence. speaking merely in reference to strategic considerations, there appeared to be some rashness in attempting the reduction of such a fortress as sebastopol with an army inferior in force to that of the enemy inside and outside the walls--an army liable to be attacked by all the masses which russia could direct, in her last extremity, to defend the "very navel of her power"--unless the fleet was able to neutralize the preponderance of the hostile army, and place our troops upon equal terms. it was not impregnable, either from the quality of the works or natural position, and, like all such fortresses, it could not but fall before the regular uninterrupted continuance and progress of sap, and mine, and blockade. the result showed, however, that the usual conditions of a siege were not complied with in this case; and the character of the expedition, which was at first a dashing, sudden onslaught, was, perhaps inevitably, changed by the course of events. colonel maule, assistant adjutant-general, major levinge, mr. newbury, pay-master of the nd battalion rifle brigade, and gregg, of the th regiment, died. the hospital was quite full, and, numerous as our medical staff was, and unremitting as were our medical officers in doing all that skill and humanity could suggest for the sufferers, there were painful cases, of not rare occurrence, in which the men did not procure the attention they required paid to them till it was too late. many of the poor fellows, too, who desired the attendance of a clergyman or priest at their dying hour, were denied that last consolation, for the chaplains were few, or at least not numerous enough for the sad exigencies of the season. [sidenote: cholera.] the french losses from cholera were frightful. the hospital had been formerly used as a turkish barrack. it was a huge quadrangular building, like the barracks at scutari, with a courtyard in the centre. the sides of the square were about feet long, and each of them contained three floors, consisting of spacious corridors, with numerous rooms off them of fair height and good proportions. about one-third of the building was reserved for our use; the remainder was occupied by the french. although not very old, the building was far from being in thorough repair. the windows were broken, the walls in parts were cracked and shaky, and the floors were mouldering and rotten. like all places which have been inhabited by turkish soldiers for any time, the smell of the buildings was abominable. men sent in there with fevers and other disorders were frequently attacked with the cholera in its worst form, and died with unusual rapidity, in spite of all that could be done to save them. i visited the hospital one memorable night in search of medical aid for my friend dickson, who was suddenly seized with cholera. i never can forget the aspect of the place--a long train of thirty-five carts filled with sick was drawn up by the wall. there were three or four men in each. these were soldiers sent in from the camps waiting till room could be found for them; others were sitting by the roadside, and the moonbeams flashed brightly off their piled arms. all were silent; the quiet that prevailed was only broken by the moans and cries of the sufferers in the carts. observing many empty arabas were waiting in the square, i asked a _sous officer_ for what they were required. his answer, sullen and short, was,--"_pour les morts_." on the night of tuesday (aug. th) a great fire broke out at varna, which utterly destroyed more than a quarter of the town. the sailors of the ships, and the french and english soldiery stationed near the town, worked for the ten hours during which the fire lasted with the greatest energy; but as a brisk wind prevailed, which fanned the flames as they leapt along the wooden streets, their efforts were not as successful as they deserved. the fire broke out near the french commissariat stores, in a spirit shop. the officers in charge broached many casks of spirits, and as the liquid ran down the streets, a greek was seen to set fire to it. he was cut down to the chin by a french officer, and fell into the fiery torrent. the howling of the inhabitants, the yells of the turks, the clamour of the women, children, dogs, and horses, were appalling. marshal st. arnaud displayed great vigour and coolness in superintending the operations of the troops, and by his exertions aggravated the symptoms of the malady from which he had long been suffering. the french lost great quantities of provisions, and we had many thousand rations of biscuit utterly consumed. in addition to the bread (biscuit) which was lost, immense quantities of stores were destroyed. , pairs of soldiers' shoes and an immense quantity of cavalry sabres, which were found amid the ruins, fused into the most fantastic shapes, were burnt. the soldiers plundered a good deal, and outrages of a grave character were attributed to the zouaves during the fire. tongues and potted meats, most probably abstracted from sutlers' stores, were to be had in the outskirts of the camp for very little money soon after the occurrence, and some of the camp canteen keepers were completely ruined by their losses. to add to our misfortunes, the cholera broke out in the fleets in varna bay and at baltschik with extraordinary virulence. the _friedland_ and _montebello_ suffered in particular--in the latter upwards of died in twenty-four hours. the depression of the army was increased by this event. they "supped full of horrors," and listened greedily to tales of death, which served to weaken and terrify. we lost fifteen or sixteen men a day. some people said we pitched our camps too closely; but sir george brown's division covered nearly twice the space which would have been occupied by the encampment of a roman legion consisting of nearly the same number of men, and yet there is no account in history of any of these camp epidemics in gaul, or thrace, or pannonia, or in any of the standing camps of the romans, and we must believe that the cholera and its cognate pests arise out of some combination of atmospherical and physical conditions which did not occur in former times. the conduct of many of the men, french and english, seemed characterized by a recklessness verging on insanity. they might be seen lying drunk in the kennels, or in the ditches by the road-sides, under the blazing rays of the sun, covered with swarms of flies. they might be seen in stupid sobriety gravely paring the rind off cucumbers of portentous dimensions, to the number of six or eight, and eating the deadly cylinders one after another, till there was no room for more--all the while sitting in groups in the fields, or on the flags by the shops in the open street, and looking as if they thought they were adopting highly sanitary measures for their health's sake; or frequently three or four of them would make a happy bargain with a greek for a large basketful of apricots ("kill johns"), scarlet pumpkins, water melons, wooden-bodied pears, green-gages, and plums, and then retire beneath the shade of a tree, where they divided and ate the luscious food till nought remained but a heap of peel, rind, and stones. they then diluted the mass of fruit with raki, or peach brandy, and struggled home or to sleep as best they could. one day i saw a zouave and a huge grenadier staggering up the street arm in arm, each being literally laden with enormous pumpkins and cucumbers, and in the intervals of song--for one was shouting out "cheer, boys, cheer," in irregular spasms, and the other was chanting some love ditty of a very lachrymose character--they were feeding each other with cucumbers. one took a bit and handed it to his friend, who did the same, and thus they were continuing their amphiboean banquet till the englishman slipped on a stone and went down into the mud, bringing his friend after him--pumpkins, cucumbers, and all. the frenchman disengaged himself briskly; but the grenadier at once composed himself to sleep, notwithstanding the entreaties of his companion. after dragging at him, head, legs, arms, and shoulders, the zouave found he could make no impression on the inert mass of his friend, and regarding him in the most tragic manner possible, he clasped his hands, and exclaimed, "_tu es là, donc, mon ami, mon cher jeeon! eh bien, je me coucherai avec toi_;" and calmly fixing a couple of cucumbers for his pillow, he lay down, and was soon snoring in the gutter in unison with his ally. the turkish soldiers were equally careless of their diet and living. it was no wonder, indeed, that cholera throve and fattened among us. all the tokens of an impending expedition were eagerly caught up and circulated among the camps. a number of boats, ordered by admiral lyons at constantinople, now arrived at varna, and their construction showed they were intended for the disembarkation of troops. each vessel consisted of two of the large turkish boats of the bosphorus, which are about fifty feet long, and about eight feet broad, fastened together, and planked over at top, so as to form a kind of raft, and drawing more than a foot of water, and capable of landing two heavy guns and their men, or of carrying or men with the greatest of ease. the fleet was assembled in the bay, and consisted of steamers of a magnitude and speed hitherto unknown in any operation of war, and of sailing vessels which would have constituted a formidable navy of themselves. it was calculated that the disembarkation of , could be effected by the boats of our steamers in two hours. cavalry would be more difficult to manage; but at this time our strength in that arm was not very great, for we had two generals in command of a force which mustered in the crimea less than , sabres. the artillery, under general cator, consisted of the siege train ( guns out), commanded by colonel gambia; the royal horse artillery, colonel strangeways; the artillery of the light division, colonel dacres; of the first division, colonel lake; of the second division, colonel dupuis; and of the third division, colonel fitzmayer. each division had twelve field guns attached to it, so that there were forty-eight field guns in all. the c and i troops of the royal horse artillery acted with the cavalry. but the armies of the allies were about to enter upon the career of active warfare, and to escape from a spot fraught with memories of death unredeemed by a ray of glory. it was no secret that in the middle of july a council of generals and admirals had, by a majority, overcome the _timides avis_ of some, and had decided upon an expedition to the crimea, in compliance with the positive orders of the english cabinet, and with the less decided suggestions of the emperor of the french. that project had been arrested by the sickness and calamities which had fallen on the french and english armies, but it had not been abandoned. in the second week in august the cholera assumed such an alarming character that both admirals (french and english) resolved to leave their anchorage at baltschik, and stand out to sea for a cruise. on wednesday the th the _caradoc_, lieutenant derriman, which left constantinople with the mails for the fleet and army the previous evening, came up with the english fleet. the _caradoc_ was boarded by a boat from the _britannia_, and the officer who came on board communicated the appalling intelligence that the flag-ship had lost men since she left baltschik, and that she had buried men that morning. upwards of men were on the sick list at that time. some of the other ships had lost several men, but not in the same proportion. after the great fire on the night of the th the cholera seemed to diminish in the town itself, and the reports from the various camps were much more favourable than before. the british army was scattered broadcast all over the country, from monastir to varna, a distance of twenty-six or twenty-seven miles. the duke of cambridge's division marched in from aladyn, and encamped towards the south-western side of the bay. it appeared that notwithstanding the exquisite beauty of the country around aladyn, it was a hot-bed of fever and dysentery. the same was true of devno, which was called by the turks "the valley of death;" and had we consulted the natives ere we pitched our camps, we assuredly should never have gone either to aladyn or devno, notwithstanding the charms of their position and the temptations offered by the abundant supply of water and by the adjacent woods. it was the duty of the general in command to pay attention to the representations of the medical officers and the traditions of the natives, which assigned to this locality a most unfavourable character for the preservation of health. whoever gazed on these rich meadows, stretching for long miles away, and bordered by heights on which the dense forests struggled all but in vain to pierce the masses of wild vine, clematis, dwarf acacia, and many-coloured brushwoods--on the verdant hill-sides, and on the dancing waters of lake and stream below, lighted up by the golden rays of a bulgarian summer's sun--might well have imagined that no english glade or hill-top could well be healthier or better suited for the residence of man. but these meadows nurtured the fever, the ague, dysentery, and pestilence in their bosom--the lake and the stream exhaled death, and at night fat unctuous vapours rose fold after fold from the valleys, and crept up in the dark and stole into the tent of the sleeper and wrapped him in their deadly embrace. so completely exhausted was the brigade of guards, that these , men, the flower of england, had to make two marches from aladyn to varna, which was not more than (not so much many people said as) ten miles. their packs were carried for them. how astonished must have been the good people of england, sitting anxiously in their homes, day after day, expecting every morning to gladden their eyes with the sight of the announcement, in large type, of "fall of sebastopol," when they heard that their guards--their _corps d'élite_--the pride of their hearts--the delight of their eyes--these anakims, whose stature, strength, and massive bulk they exhibited to kingly visitors as no inapt symbols of our nation, had been so reduced by sickness, disease, and a depressing climate, that it was judged inexpedient to allow them to carry their own packs, or to permit them to march more than five miles a day, even though these packs were carried for them! in the brigade there were before the march to varna upwards of sick men. [sidenote: final deliberations.] the highland brigade was in better condition, but even the three noble regiments which composed it were far from being in good health. the light division had lost or men. the second division had suffered somewhat less. the little cavalry force had been sadly reduced, and the third (sir r. england's) division, which had been encamped to the north-west of varna, close outside the town, had lost upwards of men also, the th regiment, who were much worked, being particularly cut up. the ambulance corps had been completely crippled by the death of the drivers and men belonging to it, and the medical officers were called upon to make a special report on the mortality among them. in truth, it may be taken as an actual fact that each division of the army had been weakened by nearly one regiment, and that the arrival of the division of sir george cathcart did little more than raise the force to its original strength. the same day lieutenant a. saltmarshe, of the th hussars, died of cholera. dead bodies rose from the bottom in the harbour, and bobbed grimly around in the water, or floated in from sea, and drifted past the sickened gazers on board the ships--all buoyant, bolt upright, and hideous in the sun. at a council of war, held at marshal st. arnaud's quarters on the th of august, the final decision was taken. there were present the marshal, lord raglan, general canrobert, sir george brown, sir edmund lyons, sir john burgoyne, admirals dundas, hamelin, and bruat, and the deliberation lasted several hours. sir john burgoyne's views with regard to the point selected for our landing in the crimea were not quite in unison with those of the generals who have lately reconnoitred the best locality. it would not have been very politic to have published the decisions of this council, even if they had been known, though secrets did leak out through closed doors and fastened windows. it was, indeed, said at the time, that the london journals did great mischief by publishing intelligence respecting the points to be attacked. some people were absurd enough to say, with all possible gravity, that they would not be at all surprised if the whole expedition against sebastopol were to be abandoned in consequence of articles in the english newspapers. certainly, if any "dangerous information" were conveyed to the czar in this way, it was not sent home from the head-quarters of the army, but was derived from sources beyond a correspondent's reach. considerations connected with geographical position did not appear to exercise the slightest influence on the reason of persons who urged the extraordinary proposition that the publication in a london newspaper of a probable plan of campaign influenced the czar in the dispositions he made to meet our attack. even if the czar believed that plan to be correct--and he might well entertain suspicions on that point--is it likely that he would take the trouble, as soon as he has read his morning paper, to send off a courier to the crimea to prepare his generals for an attack on a certain point which they must have hitherto left undefended? his spies in london rendered him much surer and better service. the debates in parliament threw a much plainer and steadier light upon our movements. and yet so positive was the emperor nicholas that all our preparations were shams intended to deceive him, so unintelligible to him were the operations of a free press and free speech, that he persisted in thinking, up the very eve of the descent, that our armies were in reality destined to follow up his retreating legions on the danube, and he obstinately rejected all prince menschikoff's appeals for reinforcements. under any circumstances the russian engineers knew their coast well enough to be ready to defend its weak points, and to occupy the best ground of defence against the hostile descent. they knew our object, if we went to the crimea at all, must be the reduction of sebastopol, and of course they took care to render the _primos aditus difficiles_. when the _furious_ returned to the fleet, after a cruise along the south-western coast of the crimea, she saw a russian intrenched camp of about men placed above the very spot at which it seemed desirable we should effect a landing. who told the russians what the intentions of our chiefs were? why, they _saw_ an english steam frigate, with sir george brown, general canrobert, and sir e. lyons on board, making a deliberate survey of that very spot days before, and it was only natural to suppose that the same strategical knowledge which led the english and french generals to select this place for the landing warned the russians that it would be wise to defend it. certainly it was not any article in a london journal which enabled the russians to know the point selected by our generals, so as to induce them to throw up an intrenchment and to form a camp of men there. however, marshal st. arnaud prevented much doubt existing as to our real intentions, for on the th he published the following ordre général. (no. .) "armÉe d'orient. "État major-gÉnÉral. "soldats,--vous venez de donner de beaux spectacles de persévérance, de calme et d'énergie, au milieu de circonstances douleureuses qu'il faut oublier. l'heure est venue de combattre, et de vaincre. "l'ennemi ne nous a pas attendu sur le danube. ses colonnes démoralisées, détruites par la maladie, s'en éloignent péniblement. c'est la providence, peut-étre, qui a voulu nous épargner l'épreuve de ces contrées malsaines. c'est elle, aussi, qui nous appelle en crimée, pays salubre comme le notre, et à sebastopol, siége de la puissance russe, dans ces murs où nous allons chercher ensemble le gage de la paix et de notre rétour dans nos foyers. "l'enterprise est grande, et digne de vous; vous la réaliserez à l'aide du plus formidable appareil militaire et maritime qui se vit jamais. les flottes alliées, avec leurs trois mille canons et leurs vingt-cinq mille braves matelots, vos émules et vos compagnons d'armes, porteront sur la terre de crimée une armée anglaise, dont vos pères ont appris à respecter la haute valeur, une division choisie de ces soldats ottomans qui viennent de faire leurs preuves sous vos yeux, et une armée française que j'ai le droit et l'orgueil d'appeler l'élite de notre armée toute entière. "je vois là plus que des gages de succès; j'y vois le succès lui-même. généraux, chefs de corps, officiers de toutes armes, vous partagerez, et vous ferez passer dans lâme de vos soldats la confiance dont la mienne est remplie. bientôt, nous saluerons ensemble les trois drapeaux réunis flottant sur les ramparts de sebastopol de notre cri nationale, 'vive l'empéreur!' "au quartier-général de varna, août , . (signée) "le maréchal de france, comm.-en-chef l'armée d'orient, "a. st. arnaud." [sidenote: embarkation of the troops.] in curious contrast to the above order, lord raglan issued a memorandum, requesting "mr. commissary-general filder to take steps to insure that the troops should all be provided with a ration of porter for the next few days." it reminded one of the bathos of the scotch colonel's address to his men before the pyramids, compared to napoleon's high-flown appeal. the light division began its march from monastir to varna at five a.m. on wednesday, the rd. the men were in the highest spirits on their march, and sang songs on the way; their packs were carried by mules and horses. they arrived at yursakova, ten miles from monastir, near the old camp of sir de lacy evans's division, who had already left for varna, at one o'clock in the day, and pitched their camp there. sunday was a day of rest, and many of the men availed themselves of the opportunity afforded to them of receiving the sacrament. through the valley of devno, "the valley of death," the men marched in mournful silence, for it was the place where they had left so many of their comrades, and where they had suffered so much. the air was tainted by the carcases of dead horses; and as some of the officers rode near the burial-places of the poor fellows in the division who had died of cholera, they were horrified to discover that the corpses had been dug up, most probably by the bulgarians, for the sake of the blankets in which they had been interred, and had been left half-covered a prey to the dogs and vultures. on monday the brigade again advanced and reached karaguel, seven miles from varna. all the other divisions began to move towards varna at the same time, and prepared for embarkation as fast as they could be shipped from the neighbourhood of the town. the greatest care was taken to reduce the baggage and _impedimenta_ of the army to a minimum. to each regiment there was only allowed five horses; and as every officer had at least one--some, indeed, had two, and others three--there were some thirty-five or forty horses from every regiment to be provided for, so that the park formed near varna for the derelicts consisted of government animals and officers' horses. on the th of august, most of the english men-of-war which had lain at baltschik came down to varna; and, including french, turkish, and english vessels, there were seventeen sail of the line in the bay. all this time the sickness, though decreasing, continued to affect us. the th dragoon guards suffered so much--their commanding officer (major le marchant) absent from ill-health, the senior captain (duckworth), the surgeon (pitcairn), and the veterinary-surgeon (fisher), dead, as well as a number of non-commissioned officers and privates--that it was dis-regimented for a time, and was placed under the command of colonel hodge, who incorporated it with his own regiment, the th (royal irish) dragoons. on the morning of the th of august, the brigade of guards and the brigade of highlanders moved down to the beach, and were embarked on board the _simoom_, the _kangaroo_, and other large steamers. captain l. t. jones, h. m. s. _samson_, captain king of the _leander_, and captain goldsmith, of the _sidon_, deserved the greatest praise. the plan of fitting the paddle-box boats, so that they were capable of carrying seven horses each, was due to lieutenant roberts, her majesty's steamer _cyclops_, who worked hard, fitting up boats and pontoons. on st of september, the st, the nd, and the rd divisions of the french army were embarked on board the vessels destined for their conveyance to the crimea. marshal st. arnaud and his staff embarked at varna, on board the _berthollet_, on the nd of september, and at six o'clock the same evening shifted his headquarters to the _ville de paris_ in baltjik bay. monday, september the th, was spent by the authorities in final preparations, in embarking stragglers of all kinds, in closing the departments no longer needed at varna, such as the principal commissariat offices, the post-office, the ordnance and field train, &c. the narrow lanes were blocked up with mules and carts on their way to the beach with luggage, and the happy proprietors, emerging from the squalid courtyards of their whilome quarters, thronged the piers in search of boats, the supply of which was not by any means equal to the demand. some of those most industrious fellows, the maltese, who had come out and taken their harbour boats with them, made a golden harvest, for each ceased his usual avocation of floating stationer, baker, butcher, spirit merchant, tobacconist, and poultryman for the time, and plied for hire all along the shores of the bay. [sidenote: parting scenes.] book ii. departure of the expedition for the crimea--the landing--the march--the affair of barljanak--the battle of the alma--the flank march. chapter i. parting scenes--extent of the armada--life at sea--waiting for orders--slow progress--the shores of the crimea--anchorage. the arrangements for the conveyance of the troops to their destination were of the largest and most perfect character; and when all the transports were united, they constituted an armada of vessels, covered by a fleet with pieces of artillery. although, at first sight, this force appeared irresistible, it could not be overlooked that the enemy had a large fleet within a few hours' sail--that in using our men-of-war as transports, we lost their services in case of a naval action--that our army had suffered much from illness and death, and that the expedition had something of uncertainty, if not audacity, in its character--all that was fixed being this, that we were to descend at the katcha, beat the russians, and take sebastopol. writing at the time, i said--"i am firmly persuaded that the patience of people at home, who are hungering and thirsting for the news of 'the fall of sebastopol,' will be severely tried, and that the chances are a little against the incidents of its capture being ready by christmas for repetition at astley's. it is late, very late, in the year for such a siege as there is before us, and i should not be surprised if we are forced to content ourselves with the occupation of a portion of the crimea, which may become the basis of larger and more successful operations next year." few but our generals, admirals, and some old officers, troubled their heads much about these things, except a few notorious old grumblers. the only persons who were dejected or melancholy were those who were compelled to stay behind. such vast establishments as had been created at varna for the use of our army could not be broken up without many fragments remaining, and these fragments must be watched. there were, besides, the poor invalids in the hospitals, the officers and men in charge of them and of various regimental stores, of depôts, of commissariat supplies, the commissariat officers themselves--in fact, the guardians of the _débris_ which an army leaves behind it, all melancholy, and lamenting their hard fate. the most extravagant efforts were made by some of the officers on whom the lot fell to remain, in order to evade so great a calamity. at the last moment many an aching heart was made happy by an order from head-quarters. the women of several of the regiments who had mournfully followed their husbands to the beach, and rent the air with their wailings when they heard they were to be separated from those with whom they had shared privation and pestilence, were allowed to go on board. it was found that no provision had been made for their domicile or feeding. a camp of women!--the very idea was ludicrous and appalling; and so, as they could not be left behind, the british andromaches were perforce shipped on board the transports and restored to their hectors. in the course of (monday) september th, six english men-of-war and four french men-of-war left varna bay, and from morning to evening not an hour passed that some six or eight transports did not weigh anchor and steer away to the northward to the rendezvous at baltschik. sir edmund lyons, who had charge of the arrangements connected with the expedition, was busy all the day on board his flagship communicating with the shore and with the fleet. the signal for starting was very anxiously expected, but evening closed in on the bulk of the english flotilla still anchored in the waters of varna, and for the last time, perhaps, in the history of the world, the echoes of its shores were woke up by the roll of english drums, and by the music of the bands of our regiments, which will, in all probability, never re-visit these ill-omened lands. as the sun set and shot his yellow rays across the distant hills, the summit of which formed our camping grounds, and lighted up the flat expanse of rolling vapours above the lake, one could not but give a sigh to the memory of those who were lying far away from the land of their fathers--whose nameless graves are scattered in every glade and on every knoll in that unkindly moesian soil. however, the morrow came, and with it life and motion. a gun from the admiral! signals from the _emperor_, the seat of power of the admiralty agents! the joyful news throughout the fleet that we were to weigh, and to get off to our rendezvous in baltschik as soon as we could. many sailing transports were already stealing out to the southwards under all light canvas, in order to get a good offing. all the steamers were busy, clothing the bay and the adjacent coast with clouds of smoke as they got up steam, through which, as it shifted, and rose and fell, and thinned away under the influence of a crisp, fresh breeze, one could see the town of varna, all burnt up and withered by fire, its white minarets standing up stiffly through the haze, its beach hemmed by innumerable boats, its be-cannoned walls, the blanched expanse around it of hill and plain, still thickly dotted with the camps of the french. [sidenote: extent of the armada.] at ten o'clock a.m., tuesday, september th, we were fairly under way, with a ship in tow. the _city of london_, in which i had a berth, carried the head-quarters of the nd division, sir de lacy evans, lieutenant-general commanding, colonel percy herbert, deputy assistant quarter master general, colonel wilbraham, deputy assistant general, captain lane fox, captain allix, aide-de-camp, captain gubbins, aide-de-camp, captain bryan, aide-de-camp, and major eman, st regiment. the coast from varna to baltschik very much resembles that of devonshire. it was as green, more richly wooded, and crowned by verdant expanses of dwarf forest trees, which undulate from the very verge of the sea to the horizon. for some four or five miles outside varna, the french, camps dotted these pleasant-looking hills--the abode of fever and cholera. then came the reign of solitude--not a homestead, not a path, not a sign of life visible as for the next eight or ten miles one coasted along the silent forest! just about baltschik the wood disappears, and the land becomes like our coast between the forelands, with high white cliffs and bare green hills above them. the town itself, or rather the overgrown village, seemed through the glass to be as dirty and straggling as any bulgaro-turkish town it had been our lot to witness, and offered no temptation to go ashore. on steaming out of the bay northwards the number of steamers and sailing transports in sight was wonderful, but when, after a run of two hours, we anchored in baltschik roads, one was almost disappointed at the spectacle, for the line of coast is so long, and the height of the cliffs inland so considerable, that the numerous vessels anchored in lines along the shore were dwarfed, as it were, by the magnitude of the landscape. it was only as the eye learnt to pick out three-deckers and large vessels--to recognize the _britannia_ here, the _trafalgar_ there, the _himalaya_ further on--that the grandeur of these leviathans grew upon one, just as a simple attempt to count the vessels along the coast gave an idea of their numbers. in addition to the transports, there were several coal vessels for the supply of the steamers; some laden with turkish coal from heraclea, and others with coal from england. towards evening lord raglan came from varna on board h.m.s. _caradoc_, lieutenant reynolds, which he had selected as his headquarters afloat. the duke of cambridge, and a portion of his staff, took up their quarters on board her majesty's ship _triton_, commander lloyd. many of the ships had to get water from the beach, to complete coaling, &c., and the masters were twice summoned on board the _emperor_, to receive instructions from captain christie, r.n., respecting the sailing of the expedition, and the landing of the troops, &c., conveyed to him by the rear-admiral. the french were nowhere visible, and we learnt, on inquiry, that their fleet, with the few transports under their charge, had left on the previous friday, saturday, and sunday, and were to rendezvous at fidonisi, or serpents' island, off the mouth of the danube, near which they were to be joined by the fleets from bourgas and varna. their men were nearly all on board line-of-battle ships. a squadron of steamers, with a multitude of brigs and transports in tow, was visible towards evening, steering north-east, and the tricolor could be seen ere evening flying from the peaks of the steamers; they passed by baltschik with a stiff breeze off the land on their quarter. towards evening the wind freshened and hauled round more to the northward; but the fleet rode easily at anchor all night. wednesday, the th of september, was passed in absolute inactivity, so far as the bulk of the officers and men of the expedition were concerned. there was a fresh wind to the eastward, which would have carried the transports out rapidly to sea. we thought at the time that some arrangement with the french, or some deficiency to be made good, not known to us, was the cause of the delay.[ ] the ships of the various divisions were got into order as far as possible, and the officers and men were in great measure consoled for the detention by the exchange of good fare on board ship for ration beef and bread and camp living. the soldier may have the sunny side of the wall in peace, but assuredly he has the bleaker side in times of war. wherever the sailor goes he has his roof over his head, his good bed, his warm meal. he moves with his house about him. if he gets wet on deck he has a snug hammock to get into below, or a change of dry clothing, and his butcher and his baker travel beside him. from a wet watch outside, the soldier is lucky if he gets into a wet tent; a saturated blanket is his covering, and the earth is his pillow. he must carry his cold victuals for three days to come, and eat them as best he may, exposed to the inclemency of the weather, with no change of clothing and no prospect of warmth or shelter. these and such other topics could not fail to be discussed on board ship, and the discussion necessarily promoted a better understanding between the services, for jack saw that these rigid gentlemen in red coats and straps and buckles, whom he is rather apt to look upon as sybaritical and effeminate creatures, had to go through as much hard work and exposure as himself; and the soldier was not a little surprised, perhaps, to find that those whose business is upon the waters lived in comfort which he would gladly find in the best-appointed barrack. sailors and soldiers worked together in the greatest harmony, although it was trying to the best of tempers to be turned out of bed for a stranger, and although people with only six feet square a-piece to live, move, and have their being in, when stowed away in thousands, might be expected to view their neighbours with a little reasonable dislike. [sidenote: signal for sailing.] at half-past four o'clock on thursday morning, the th of september, three guns from the _agamemnon_ fired in quick succession woke up the sleepers of the fleet. the signal-men made out through the haze of morning twilight the joyful order fluttering in the coloured bunting from the mizen of the admiral, "prepare to weigh anchor," and in a quarter of an hour the volumes of smoke rising from the steamers, mingled with white streaks of steam, showed that not much time would be lost in obeying it. ere seven o'clock arrived the steamers had weighed anchor, and each was busy "dodging about" the mass of transports to pick up its own particular charges. this was a work of time, of trouble, and of difficulty. towing is at all times an unpleasant operation, but it is especially difficult to arrange the details and to get the towed vessels under weigh when there is such a mass of shipping to thread as there was at present. when the vessels were found, and the hawsers passed and secured, then came the next great difficulty--to get them into their assigned places in the several lines of the different divisions. there was some time lost before the lines were formed, and the signal "to sail" was given. with a gentle breeze off shore the flotilla started in nearly the order assigned to it. the lines were about half a mile apart, and each line was four or five miles long, for the towing power of the several steamers was so unequal, that the weaker ones tailed off and the stronger got ahead, in spite of repeated orders to keep station. it was a vast armada. no pen could describe its effect. ere an hour had elapsed it had extended itself over half the circumference of the horizon. possibly no expedition so complete and so terrible in its means of destruction, with such enormous power in engines of war and such capabilities of locomotion, was ever yet sent forth. the speed was restricted to four miles and a half per hour, but with a favouring wind it was difficult to restrain the vessels to that rate, and the transports set no sail. the course lay n.e. by e., and the fleet was ordered to make for a point miles due west of cape tarkan. on looking to the map it will be seen that the point thus indicated is about miles east of fidonisi, or serpents' island, off the mouth of the danube, and that it lies about miles to the north-east of sebastopol, cape tarkan being a promontory of the crimea, miles north of the fortress. it was understood that this point was the rendezvous given to our french and turkish allies. the fleet, in five irregular and straggling lines, flanked by men-of-war and war steamers, advanced slowly, filling the atmosphere with innumerable columns of smoke, which gradually flattened out into streaks and joined the clouds, adding to the sombre appearance of this well-named "black" sea. the land was lost to view very speedily beneath the coal clouds and the steam clouds of the fleet, and as we advanced, not an object was visible in the half of the great circle which lay before us, save the dark waves and the cold sky. not a bird flew, not a fish leaped, not a sail dotted the horizon. behind us was all life and power--vitality, force, and motion--a strange scene in this so-called russian lake! from time to time signals were made to keep the stragglers in order, and to whip up the laggards, but the execution of the plan by no means equalled the accuracy with which it had been set forth upon paper, and the deviations from the mathematical regularity of the programme were very natural. the effect was not marred by these trifling departures from strict rectilinearity, for the fleet seemed all the greater and the more imposing as the eye rested on these huge black hulls weighing down upon the face of the waters, and the infinite diversity of rigging which covered the background with a giant network. towards three o'clock we came up with eight french and turkish steamers, towing about small brigs and schooners under the french flag, which appeared to be laden with commissariat stores, for there were very few men on board. they steered rather more to the east than we did, and we soon passed them. soon afterwards several large french men-of-war steamers, with transports in tow, appeared in the distance on our starboard quarter (right-hand side), steering the same course with ourselves, and they seemed to get very close to the stragglers of our fleet. one could not but contrast the comfort of our soldiers in their splendid transports with the discomfort to which our brave allies must have been exposed in their small shallops of and tons burden. towards night, quick steamers were sent on in advance and on the flanks, to look out, as a matter of precaution. at daybreak they returned, and reported to the admiral that the french and turkish fleets were steering eastward across our bows a long way in advance. in the course of friday morning, the th, the wind chopped round, and blew rather freshly right in our teeth. the result was a severe strain upon hawsers and steamers; in some instances the hawsers parted and the transports drifted away. our progress against a head wind and light head sea was tedious, and on taking our observation at noon we found we were in lat. n., long. e., which gave us an average speed of - ths miles since we started on thursday. at ten a.m. we steered by signal n.e. / n. about eleven o'clock the topgallantsails of a large fleet steering in two lines were seen above the horizon. signals were made for the transports to close up and keep in their stations, and the _agamemnon_ stood on in advance to communicate with the strangers. the _britannia_, towed by a man-of-war steamer and followed by the _caradoc_, went in the same direction. at the same time the _napoleon_, with a convoy of steamers and transports, rose well into sight on our starboard quarter. the _trafalgar_, the _terrible_, and the _retribution_, followed the _britannia_, and other men-of-war were in advance on our bows. [sidenote: slow progress.] at half-past twelve o'clock the turco-french fleet was clearly visible, steering nearly e.n.e. in two lines. they were all under plain sail aloft and alow-- sail of the line, frigates and steamers. as we came up, they laid their maintopsails aback, and hove-to while we passed. they were in two lines, and the decks of those steamers we came near were covered with troops, as thickly packed as they could stand. large boats and flats were slung over the sides and lashed amidships. some of the turks (who appeared to have six line-of-battle ships--one three-decker and five two-deckers, and a couple of frigates) carried troops also. we passed through the fleet slowly, and about three o'clock they were hull down on our starboard quarter. the wind went down towards evening, but the weather became raw and cold. when we came up with the french fleet, admiral dundas went on board the _ville de paris_, where there was a conference, at which marshal st. arnaud was seized with such a violent attack of his old malady that he was obliged to leave the table. it had been reported to the french general that there was a russian camp on the katcha, which was the spot indicated by the reconnaissance under sir george brown and general canrobert as the best place for the disembarkation; and this circumstance, coupled with the fact that the gallant officers in recommending the place had not duly considered the small size of the bay, and the great size of the fleet, caused some difference of opinion in the council. lord raglan could not attend this conference on account of the swell, which prevented his getting up the side of the _ville de paris_, and marshal st. arnaud requested admiral hamelin and colonel trochu to repair on board the _caradoc_ and ask his opinion. it was there decided that a second commission of exploration should be sent to examine the coast from eupatoria to sebastopol, but not until the french marshal had faintly recommended a descent on theodosia (kaffa), instead of the west coast of the crimea. general canrobert, colonel trochu, colonel leboeuf, admiral bruat, general thierry, general bizot, general martimprey, and colonel rose[ ] were deputed on this service by the french. sir john burgoyne, sir george brown, admiral lyons, and some other officers, represented the english. about six o'clock on saturday morning, the _agamemnon_ and _caradoc_, accompanied by the _samson_ and the _primauguet_, left the fleet and steered due east, a course which would bring them to the coast of the crimea, a little above sebastopol. for the rest of the fleet, the greater part of saturday was almost lost, for we did not move eight miles in the interval between eight a.m. and noon. the advanced ships were ordered by signal to lie-to for the rear of the fleet, which was very far astern. our observation at noon gave our position lat. n., long. e., which is miles north-west of the point, miles west of cape tarkan, for which we were ordered to steer, and it appeared we were keeping away considerably to the westward and northward at present. from ten a.m. till three p.m. we scarcely moved a mile. finally, all cast anchor in the middle of the black sea, in fathoms water. the weather fine--the precious time going fast. so passed the greater part of saturday and all day sunday. night came on, but still there was no sign of the _agamemnon_ or of the french and english generals-in-chief. the french and turkish fleets combined were ten leagues south this morning, trying to beat up to us. the _napoleon_ arrived and anchored near us, and several french steamers with transports in tow hove in sight. all the generals not in the secret of our policy were sorely puzzled. our exact bearings at noon, verified and amended, were, lat. north, long. east. this was about miles north and west of the original rendezvous given to the fleet at starting. many of the ships were so short of coal they would have had some difficulty in steaming to sebastopol, in case it was resolved to go there. we made very slow progress. at half-past two o'clock the french fleet was visible on the starboard or right-hand bow, hull down, and with their topmasts only visible above the horizon. they seemed to be steering towards the south-east. the sun was hot, but the wind felt cold and piercing; at times slight showers fell. the sea was very smooth and tranquil, and of that peculiar dark colour which has induced so many nations to agree in giving it names of similar significance. the fleet stretched across the whole diameter of the circle--that is, they had a front of some eighteen miles broad, and gradually the irregular and broken lines tapered away till they were lost in little mounds and dots of smoke, denoting the position of the steamers far down below the horizon. as many of the seamen in the merchant vessels and transports had been grumbling at the expected boat service, which rendered them liable to shot and shell if the enemy should oppose the landing of the troops, and some had gone so far, indeed, as to say they would not serve at all--particularly the seamen of the _golden fleece_, a communication was made to admiral dundas, before the departure of the ships from their anchorage, and his reply, to the following effect, was circulated and read among the crews of the transports, to their great satisfaction, on sunday morning:-- "having been in communication with general lord raglan on the subject of officers and men employed in the transport-service receiving pensions for wounds, i beg you will make known to them that the same pensions as are given to the officers and seamen of the royal navy will be granted to them for wounds sustained in action. "w. deans dundas." [sidenote: the shores of the crimea.] the _caradoc_ and _primauguet_ returned at seven a.m., on the morning of the th september, with their attendant guardians, after a cruise along the coast; on the morning of the th they arrived off sebastopol, which they reconnoitred from the distance of three miles, and then proceeded to cape chersonese, where the beach appeared favourable for a descent, but the _timides avis_ opposed the proposition on the ground that the men would have to fight for their landing. some camps were seen near the town, and on turning towards the north, and arriving off the mouth of the belbek, the commissioners saw a small camp on the heights over the river. it was decided that this beach and little bay were too close to the enemy for the landing. then they went upwards to the katcha, which sir george brown had recommended, but all the officers at once condemned the spot, as the beach was much too small. there were some troops visible on shore. the _caradoc_ next ran on to the alma, which was found to be protected by large camps along the southern ridges--proceeding towards eupatoria she lay off a beach between the sea and a salt-water lake about fourteen miles south of that town, which after some consideration, the generals fixed upon as the scene of their landing, and having reconnoitred eupatoria, they made for the rendezvous. in about half an hour after they joined us, signal was made to the transports to steer to eupatoria. soon afterwards this signal was recalled, and was replaced by another to "steer s.s.e." for the whole day we ran very quietly on this course without any incident worthy of notice. the night closed in very darkly. the lightning flashed in sheets and forked streams every two or three minutes, from heavy masses of clouds behind us, and the fleet was greatly scattered. we were driving through a squall of rain and wind, varied by hailstorms. the thermometer was still at °. our course was rather hazardous at times, and so many steamers were steering across us that great care was required to steer clear of them in the dark. the moon, which would otherwise have aided us, was quite obscured by banks of clouds. during the night the expedition altered its course slightly to the eastward, and stood in more directly towards the land. the night was fine, but the sharpness of the air told of the approach of winter. two heavy showers of hail, which fell at intervals in the morning, covered the decks with coatings of ice a couple of inches thick, but the sun and the broom soon removed them. early in the morning of the th, just after dawn, a dark line was visible on our port (or left-hand) side, which became an object of interest and discussion, for some maintained it was land, others declared it was cloud-land. the rising sun decided the question in favour of those who maintained the substantiality of the appearance. it was indeed the shore of the crimea. the first impression as we drew near was, that the coast presented a remarkable resemblance to the dunes which fortify the northern shores of la belle france against her old enemy neptune; but when the leading ships had got within a distance of or miles, it was evident that the country beyond the line of beach was tolerably well cultivated to the margin of the sand. clumps of trees, very few and wide apart, could be made out with the glass, and at last a whitewashed farm-house or fishing-station, surrounded by outhouses, was visible on the sea-shore. the land was evidently a promontory, for it tapered away at each end to a thin line, which was lifted up by the mirage above the sea horizon, and was lost in air. we had, in fact, struck on the coast south of cape tarkan. at seven o'clock a remarkable table-land came into view in quite an opposite direction, namely, on our starboard or right-hand side, showing that we were running into a deep indentation of the coast. by degrees, as we advanced, this hill, which was in the form of the section of a truncated cone, became a very prominent object, and was generally supposed to be tchatyr dagh, a remarkable mountain of some feet high, east of sebastopol. as no course had been given to steer by during the night, the fleet scattered greatly, and was seen steering in all directions. at . a.m. the steamer leading the second division was stopped, her head lying n.e. by e. the other divisions "slowed" and stopped also, or quickened their speed, as they happened to be before or behind their positions. at a.m. a fleet of eleven men-of-war appeared in the north-west, steering towards us. signal was made to close up and keep in order. at a quarter past ten signal was made to steer e.n.e. by compass. this unexpected change of course puzzled us all greatly, and we were thus ordered to go back on the very course we had just come. about a.m. we had been in about lat., long., as we now began to steer away from land towards our original rendezvous. the average speed of the expedition was about three miles an hour. at one o'clock we steered due n. by w., the fleet of transports and of men-of-war being visible in all directions, some going south, others east, others west, others north--in fact, it puzzled every one but the admiral, or those who were in the secret, to form the slightest notion of what we were doing. three three-deckers, two two-deckers, two frigates, and four steamers, ran away on our starboard side, as our head was turned from the land, to which we had been steering, and lapped over, as it were, the wing of the fleet of transports. out of all this apparent chaos, however, order was springing, for these changes of our course were no doubt made with the view of picking up stragglers, and sweeping up all the scattered ships. the _emperor_ led the way towards the n.e., and great was the grumbling and surprise of the captains, admiralty agents, and military men with a taste for aquatics. "we have been steering s.e. all night, and now we are steering n.w., and going back again--very strange!" &c., was the cry. others believed the expedition was only intended as a demonstration. in fact, "they knew all along" that was all that was meant, and that we were going to anapa or odessa, or some other pet destination of the speakers, after we had thoroughly frightened the russ in sebastopol. there were wise men, too, who said the expedition was a feint at that particular point, and that when we had drawn the garrison out of sebastopol we should run suddenly down and take it with comparative ease, while deprived of its usual number of defenders. we had, however, only gone on this course for two hours when the leading ships of the lines stopped engines, the fleet passing slowly through the rear of the transports towards the southward, with a fine leading breeze. none of the french expedition were clearly visible, but some steamers and sailing ships far away to the n.w. were supposed to belong to it. at . signal was made from the _emperor_ to steer w.n.w. this order completely baffled even the sagest of our soothsayers, and took the wind out of the sails of all the prophets, who were rendered gloomy and disconsolate for the rest of the day. but when, in a few minutes after, the _emperor_ made signal to steer by compass n.e. by e., and we turned our head once more in-shore, it was felt that any attempt to divine the intentions of our rulers was hopeless. we were also desired to prepare to anchor, but in the depth of water under us--not less than forty fathoms--it was very likely that many ships would never be able to get up their anchors and cables again if we had done so, as they were not strong enough to stand so great a strain. the expedition had been got together pretty well by this time, and with a freshening breeze stood in for the land. it presented the same aspect as the other portion of it, which we had seen closely earlier in the day. [sidenote: anchorage.] a few farm-houses were dimly discernible in the distance over the waste and low-lying plains, which seemed embrowned by great heats. little dark specks, supposed to be cattle, could also be distinguished. shortly before six o'clock the anchor was let go in sixteen fathoms of water, at the distance of twelve or fifteen miles from shore. the number of vessels was prodigious--forty-four steamers could be counted, though many of the french vessels were not visible. when evening set in, the bands of the various regiments, the drums and fifes of those who had no bands, the trumpets of cavalry and horse artillery, and the infantry bugles formed a _concert monstre_, which must have been heard on shore in spite of the contrary breeze. some of the ships lay closer in than we did, and they were so thick that collisions took place more than once, happily without any serious consequences. the sunset was of singular beauty and splendour. heavy masses of rich blue clouds hung in the west, through innumerable golden chasms of which the sun poured a flood of yellow glory over the dancing waters, laden with great merchantmen, with men-of-war staggering under press of canvas, and over line after line of black steamers, contending in vain to deface the splendour of the scene. when night came on, and all the ships' lights were hung out, it seemed as if the stars had settled down on the face of the waters. wherever the eye turned were little constellations twinkling far and near, till they were lost in faint halos in the distance. the only idea one could give of this strange appearance is that suggested by the sight from some eminence of a huge city lighted up, street after street, on a very dark night. flashes of the most brilliant lightning, however, from time to time lifted the veil of night from the ocean, and disclosed for an instant ships and steamers lying at anchor as far as could be seen. about eight o'clock, just as every one had turned in for the night, orders were sent on board to the deputy-quartermaster-general of each division respecting the preparations for the disembarkation of the men. the men seemed in excellent health and spirits. the number of fever and cholera cases, though greater than we could have wished, was not sufficient to cause any very great alarm. no doubt the voyage had done the army good, and they all looked forward with confidence to their landing next day. the place off which we anchored on the night of tuesday, september th, was marked on the charts as schapan. it is fourteen miles distant n.n.e. from our starting-point on tuesday at noon, so that we only ran that length the whole of the afternoon from twelve to six o'clock. chapter ii. eupatoria--orders for the landing--the french land first--cossacks in sight--sir george brown's escape--a brush with the cossacks--tartar allies--shelling a russian camp--an unpleasant night--a garrison at eupatoria. at six o'clock on the morning of the th, signal was given to weigh and proceed, and at eight o'clock the lines were formed and the expedition proceeded, steering towards the s.e. the french and turkish line-of-battle ships joined us in the course of the day. a division of the allies went on in front, and cruised towards sebastopol. it was evident, from the course we had taken, that the expedition was going towards eupatoria, a town situated on a low promontory of land about thirty-four miles distant from sebastopol. towards noon the ships of the expedition closed in with the shore. the country was flat, but numerous herds of cattle were to be seen in the plains and salt marshes, and the farm-houses became more frequent as we proceeded southwards. at noon eupatoria bore ten miles s.e. by e. from us. we soon after saw the cossacks in twos or threes--or at least horsemen whom every one declared to be those famous irregulars--scouring along towards the town, but there were very few of them, and they were at long intervals; now and then a farmer-looking man, in a covered cart, was visible, jogging along, as it appeared, with perfect indifference to the formidable apparition of some vessels keeping company with him at the distance of some five or six miles only. eupatoria soon became visible. it lies on a spit of sand, and for a long time we imagined that it was defended by heavy works, for the solid stone houses close by the sea-coast were so increased by refraction and lifted up so high, that they looked like forts. the town is astonishingly clean, perhaps by contrast with varna and gallipoli. a large barrack was in course of erection near the town on the north side. towards the south side were innumerable windmills, and several bathing-boxes, gaily painted, along the beach gave an air of civilization to the place, in spite of the old turkish minarets which peered above the walls in a very dilapidated state. the chapel was a conspicuous object, and boasted of a large dome. many square stone buildings were in view. at a quarter past three the expedition anchored off the town, at the distance of two or three miles. we could see up the main streets of the town with our glasses very clearly. cossacks dotted all the hills, watching us, and some of them were "driving" the cattle across the sandy hillocks towards the interior. there seemed to be a blockhouse on shore, and a kind of earthwork, near which was a flagstaff, but no flag was exhibited. the _caradoc_ slowly coasted by the flat and very low shore close in. a boat with colonel steele, colonel trochu, and mr. calvert, interpreter, proceeded towards the quay with a flag of truce, and summoned the town, which the governor surrendered at once, as he had only invalids under his command. he said, very brusquely, "nous sommes tous rendus, faites ce que vous voulez." some russian soldiers stood gazing on the expedition from the mounds of earth near the town, and we were amused by seeing the process of relieving guard, which was done in very good style by three regulars. they left a sentry behind, in lieu of the man whom they relieved. [sidenote: the place of landing.] there was only one vessel in the roadstead--a tartar sloop of sixty or seventy tons. the _tribune_ stood leisurely in as soon as the fleet anchored, till she was within half a mile of the town. a boat put off with four men, who pulled towards the sloop, got into her, and immediately hoisted a white flag; the first prize on the shore of the crimea! all this time the people were gazing at us out of the windows, from the corners of the streets, and from the roofs of the houses. all the vessels were drawn up in immense lines, with a front extending over nine miles, and with an unknown depth--for the rigging and sails of the distant transports belonging to the expedition were lost far below the horizon; and after we had anchored, stragglers arrived every hour. after a short conversation by signal between generals and admirals, towards eight o'clock p.m. the _agamemnon_ sent off boats to the steamers and transports with the following order to the quartermasters-general of division:-- orders for sailing. "wednesday night. "the light division to be actually under way at one a.m. to-morrow morning. "the fourth division to sail at two a.m. "the first division to sail at three a.m. "the third division and the fifth division to sail at four a.m. "steer s.s.e. for eight miles. rendezvous in lat. degrees. do not go nearer to shore than eight fathoms." these orders were obeyed, and after an interchange of rockets from the admirals, the divisions weighed in the order indicated, and slowly stood along the coast till about eight o'clock in the morning, when we anchored off staroe ukroplenie, or the old fort. the place thus selected for our landing was a low strip of beach and shingle, cast up by the violence of the surf, and forming a sort of causeway between the sea and a stagnant salt-water lake. the lake is about one mile long, and half a mile broad, and when we first arrived, its borders and surface were frequented by vast flocks of wildfowl. the causeway was not more than two hundred yards broad, leading, at the right or southern extremity of the lake, by a gentle ascent, to an irregular table-land or plateau of trifling elevation, dotted with tumuli or barrows, such as are seen in several parts of england. towards the sea this plateau presented a precipitous face of red clay and sandstone, varying in height from a hundred to a hundred and fifty feet, and it terminated by a descent almost to the sea-level, at the distance of nearly two miles from the shores of the lake. thence towards the south there was a low sandy beach, with a fringe of shingle raised by the action of the waves above the level of the land, and saving it from inundation. this low coast stretched along as far as the eye could reach, till it was lost beneath the base of the mountain ranges over sebastopol. the country inland, visible from the decks of our ships, was covered with cattle, with grain in stack, with farm-houses. the stubble-fields were covered with wild lavender, southernwood, and other fragrant shrubs, which the troops collected for fuel, and which filled the air with an aromatic perfume. as we cruised towards eupatoria, we could see the people driving their carts and busy in their ordinary occupations. now and then some cossacks were visible, scouring along the roads to the interior, and down south towards the menaced stronghold of the czar; but they were not numerous, and at times it was doubtful whether the people we saw were those freebooters of the don, or merely crim tartar herdsmen, armed with cattle-spears. the post carriage from sebastopol to odessa was also seen rolling leisurely along, and conveying, probably, news of the great armament with which the coast was menaced. we were further disappointed to find the natives in dress and aspect very like our friends of bulgaria. they were better kempt, and seemed better clad; but the "style" of the men was the same as that of the people with whom we had been so long and so unpleasantly familiar. the daybreak of thursday (september ) gave promise of a lovely morning, but the pledge was not quite fulfilled. the sun rose from a cloudless sky. towards noon the heat of his mid-day beams was tempered by a gentle breeze, and by some floating fleecy vapours, which turned speedily into showers of rain, and the afternoon was dark and gloomy. the vast armada, which had moved on during the night in perfect order, studded the horizon with a second heaven of stars, and, covering the face of the sea with innumerable lights, advanced parallel with the coast till it gradually closed in towards the shore near lake saki. at seven a.m. most of the fleet were in shore near their prescribed positions, but it was found necessary to send the _firebrand_ and some other steamer to sea, in order to tow up the slower transports of men-of-war. the _emperor_, which was our guiding star, did not keep exactly in her position, or the places taken by the leading steamers of the rest of the fleet were wrong, and some doubt and a little confusion arose in consequence; but the absence of an enemy rendered any slight deviations from order of comparatively trifling importance. the greatest offender against the prescribed order of disembarkation was the admiral himself, who, instead of filling the place assigned to him in the centre of his fleet, stood out four miles from the shore, and signalled for four ships of the line to come out from among us and reconnoitre. [sidenote: the french the first to land.] as the ships of our expedition drew up in lines parallel to the beach, the french fleet passed us under steam, and extended itself on our right, and ran in close to shore below the cliffs of the plateau. their small war steamers went much nearer than ours were allowed to do, and a little after seven o'clock the first french boat put off from one of the men-of-war; not more than fifteen or sixteen men were on board her. she was beached quietly on shore at the southern extremity of the real cliff already mentioned. the crew leaped out; they formed into a knot on the strand, and seemed busily engaged for a few moments over one spot of ground, as though they were digging a grave. presently a flag-staff was visible above their heads, and in a moment more the tricolor was run up to the top, and fluttered out gaily in the wind, while the men took off their hats, and no doubt did their "_vive l'empereur!_" in good style. the french were thus the first to take possession and seisin of the crimea.[ ] there was no enemy in sight. the most scrutinizing gaze at this moment could not have detected a hostile uniform along the coast. the french admiral fired a gun shortly after eight o'clock, and the disembarkation of their troops commenced. in little more than an hour they got men on shore. this was very smart work, but it must be remembered that nearly all the french army were on board line-of-battle ships, and were at once carried from their decks to the land by the men-of-war's boats. the instant the french had landed a regiment, a company was pushed on to reconnoitre--skirmishers or pickets were sent on in front. as each regiment followed in column, its predecessors deployed, extended front, and advanced in light marching order _en tirailleur_, spreading out like a fan over the plains. it was most curious and interesting to observe their progress, and to note the rapid manner in which they were appropriating the soil. in about an hour after their first detachment had landed, nearly troops were on shore, and their advanced posts were faintly discernible between three and four miles from the beach, like little black specks moving over the cornfields, and darkening the highways and meadow paths. the _montebello_ carried upwards of men, in addition to her crew. the _valmy_ had in all . the _ville de paris_ and _henri quatre_ were laden with men in proportion; and all the line-of-battle ships and steamers had full cargoes of troops. in fact, it was found that their small brigs and schooners were neither safe nor comfortable, and that they were better suited for carrying stores and horses than men. the fleet of french men-of-war carried more than , men. their whole force to be landed consisted of , men. our army amounted to , men, who were embarked in a vast number of transports, covering a great extent of water. but they were carried in comfort and safety; and, though there was still much sickness on board, it was as nothing compared to the mortality among the closely-packed french. perhaps no army ever was conveyed with such luxury and security from shore to shore as ours in the whole history of war. a body of french spahis, under lieutenant de moleyn, were the first cavalry to land. next morning these men attacked an advanced post, and cut off a russian officer and a few soldiers, whom they carried back to camp. about nine o'clock one black ball was run up to the fore of the _agamemnon_ and a gun was fired to enforce attention to the signal. this meant, "divisions of boats to assemble round ships for which they are told off, to disembark infantry and artillery." in an instant the sea was covered with a flotilla of launches, gigs, cutters, splashing through the water, some towing flats, and the large turkish boats, others with horse-floats plunging heavily after them. they proceeded with as great regularity as could be expected to their appointed ships, and the process of landing commenced. up to this moment not an enemy was to be seen; but as the boats began to shove off from the ships, five horsemen slowly rose above the ridge on the elevated ground, to the right of the strip of beach which separated the salt-water lake from the sea in front of us. after awhile four of them retired to one of the tumuli inland opposite the french fleet. the other retained his position, and was soon the cynosure of all neighbouring eyes. the russian was within about yards of us, and through a good telescope we could watch his every action. he rode slowly along by the edge of the cliff, apparently noting the number and disposition of the fleet, and taking notes with great calmness in a memorandum book. he wore a dark green frock-coat, with a little silver lace, a cap of the same colour, a sash round his waist, and long leather boots. his horse, a fine bay charger, was a strange contrast to the shaggy rough little steeds of his followers. there they were, "the cossacks," at last!--stout, compact-looking fellows, with sheepskin caps, uncouth clothing of indiscriminate cut, high saddles, and little fiery ponies, which carried them with wonderful ease and strength. each of these cossacks carried a thick lance of some fifteen feet in length, and a heavy sabre. at times they took rapid turns by the edge of the cliff in front of us--now to the left, now to the rear, of their officer, and occasionally they dipped out of sight, over the hill, altogether. then they came back, flourishing their lances, and pointed to the accumulating masses of the french on their right, and more than half-a-mile from them, on the shore, or scampered over the hill to report progress as to the lines of english boats advancing to the beach. their officer behaved very well. he remained for an hour within range of a minié rifle, and making a sketch in his portfolio of our appearance, we all expected she was going to drop a shell over himself and his little party. we were glad our expectations were not realized, if it were only on the chance of the sketch being tolerably good, so that the czar might really see what our armada was like. [sidenote: first traces of the enemy.] meantime the english boats were nearing the shore, not in the order of the programme, but in irregular groups; a company of a regiment of the light division, the th fusileers, under lieutenant-colonel yea, i think, landed first on the beach to the left of the cliffs;[ ] then came a company of the nd battalion of the rifle brigade, commanded by lieutenant-colonel lawrence: a small boat from the _britannia_ commanded by lieutenant vesey, had, however, preceded the fusileers, and disembarked some men on the beach, who went down into the hollow at the foot of the cliffs. the russian continued his sketching. suddenly a cossack crouched down and pointed with his lance to the ascent of the cliffs. the officer turned and looked in the direction. we looked too, and, lo! a cocked hat rose above the horizon. another figure, with, a similar head-dress, came also in view. the first was on the head of sir george brown, on foot; the second we found out to be the property of the assistant quartermaster-general airey. sir george had landed immediately after the company of the fusileers on their right, and having called colonel lysons' attention to the ground where he wished the light division to form, he walked on towards the cliff or rising ground on the right of the salt-water lake. the scene was exciting. it was evident the russian and the cossack saw sir george, but that he did not see them. the russian got on his horse, the cossacks followed his example, and one of them cantered to the left to see that the french were not cutting off their retreat, while the others stooped down over their saddle-bows and rode stealthily, with lowered lances, towards the englishmen. sir george was in danger, but he did not know it. neither did the russians see the picket advancing towards the brow of the hill, for our general was not alone, sergeant maunsell and two privates of the rd had followed him as he advanced towards the hill; and they had not gone very far when sir george ordered one of them to go back, and tell the officer commanding the company to advance, and extend his men along the brow of the hill. sir george was busy scanning the country, and pointing out various spots to the quartermaster-general. suddenly the two turned and slowly descended the hill--the gold sash disappeared--the cocked hat was eclipsed--cossacks and officers dismounted and stole along by the side of their horses. they, too, were hid from sight in a short time, and on the brow of the cliff appeared a string of native carts. general airey had seen these arabas, and applied to colonel lysons to know if he should not intercept them. in about five minutes two or three tiny puffs of smoke rose over the cliff, and presently the faint cracks of a rifle were audible to the men in the nearest ships. in a few minutes more the cossacks were flying like wind on the road towards sebastopol, and crossing close to the left of the french lines of skirmishers. sir george brown, whose sight was very indifferent, had a near escape of being taken prisoner. the cossacks, who had been dodging him, made a dash when they were within less than a hundred yards. the general had to run, and was only saved from capture by the fire of the fusileers. the cossacks bolted. the first blood spilt in this campaign was that of a poor boy, an arabajee, who was wounded in the foot by the volley which dislodged them; and our capture consisted of fourteen arabas, in which were found abundance of delicious fruit and stores of firewood. the cossacks beat the drivers to hasten them in taking the bullocks out of the carts, nor did they desist in their attempts till one of them was badly hit, and our men were close at hand. the drivers came in to us when the cossacks rode off. the light division got on shore very speedily, and were all landed, with the exception of a few companies, in an hour. the first division landed simultaneously with the leading division; the duke of cambridge and his staff being early on the beach, the brigadiers sir c. campbell and major-general bentinck preceding their respective brigades. as the regiments landed, the brigades were formed in contiguous columns at quarter distance. the light division was on the left, the first division the next, and so on in order towards the right. the second division had landed. sir de lacy evans got on shore with his staff about half-past ten o'clock. by eleven o'clock, the rifles and fusileers had been inspected, and were marching from the left of the line, along the front of the other regiments, towards the right. they ascended the slope of the hill over the cliffs, passing by the pickets and sentries who had been placed on outpost duty by sir george brown, and marching straight on over the plain i have described inland. very amusing was it to watch the loading and unloading of the boats. a gig or cutter, pulled by eight or twelve sailors, with a paddle-box boat, flat, or turkish pinnace in tow (the latter purchased for the service), would come up alongside a steamer or transport in which troops were ready for disembarkation. the officers of each company first descended, each man in full dress. over his shoulder was slung his havresack, containing what had been, ere it underwent the process of cooking, four pounds and a half of salt meat, and a bulky mass of biscuit of the same weight. this was his ration for three days. besides this, each officer carried his greatcoat, rolled up and fastened in a hoop round his body, a wooden canteen to hold water, a small ration of spirits, whatever change of under-clothing he could manage to stow away, his forage-cap, and, in most instances, a revolver. each private carried his blanket and greatcoat strapped up into a kind of knapsack, inside which was a pair of boots, a pair of socks, a shirt, and, at the request of the men themselves, a forage-cap; he also carried his water canteen, and the same rations as the officer, a portion of the mess cooking apparatus, firelock and bayonet of course, cartouch box and fifty rounds of ball-cartridge for minié, sixty rounds for smooth-bore arms. [sidenote: our blue-jackets ashore.] as each man came creeping down the ladder, jack helped him along tenderly from rung to rung till he was safe in the boat, took his firelock and stowed it away, removed his knapsack and packed it snugly under the seat, patted him on the back, and told him "not to be afeerd on the water;" treated "the sojer," in fact, in a very kind and tender way, as though he were a large but not a very sagacious "pet," who was not to be frightened or lost sight of on any account, and did it all so quickly, that the large paddle-box boats, containing men, were filled in five minutes. then the latter took the paddle-box in tow, leaving her, however, in charge of a careful coxswain, and the same attention was paid to _getting_ the "sojer" on shore that was evinced in getting him into the boat; the sailors (half or wholly naked in the surf) standing by at the bows, and handing each man and his accoutrement down the plank to the shingle, for fear "he'd fall off and hurt himself." never did men work better than our blue-jackets; especially valuable were they with horses and artillery; and their delight at having a horse to hold and to pat all to themselves was excessive. when the gun-carriages stuck fast in the shingle, half a dozen herculean seamen rushed at the wheels, and, with a "give way, my lad--all together," soon spoked it out with a run, and landed it on the hard sand. no praise can do justice to the willing labour of these fine fellows. they never relaxed their efforts as long as man or horse of the expedition remained to be landed, and many of them, officers as well as men, were twenty-four hours in their boats. our force consisted of:-- the light division, sir george brown-- nd battalion rifle brigade, th fusileers, th regiment, rd fusileers, brigadier major-general codrington, rd regiment, th regiment, th regiment, and brigadier-general buller. the first division, under the duke of cambridge, included the grenadier, coldstream, and scots fusileer guards, under major-general bentinck, and the nd, th, and rd highlanders, under brigadier sir c. campbell. the second division, under sir de lacy evans, consisted of the th, th, and th, under brigadier-general pennefather, and the st, th, and th, under brigadier-general adams. the third division, under sir r. england, was composed of the st royals, th, th, th, th, and th regiments--brigadiers sir john campbell and eyre. ( th regiment only six companies.) the fourth division, under sir george cathcart--the th regiment, st regiment, rifle brigade, nd battalion, rd regiment. ( th regiment _en route_; th regiment _en route_.) the cavalry division (lord lucan) was made up of the th light dragoons, th hussars, th hussars, th light dragoons, th lancers, forming a light cavalry brigade, under lord cardigan; the scots greys (not yet arrived here), th dragoon guards, th dragoon guards, th dragoons, making the heavy cavalry brigade, under brigadier-general scarlett. by twelve o'clock, that barren and desolate beach, inhabited but a short time before only by the seagull and wild-fowl, was swarming with life. from one extremity to the other, bayonets glistened, and redcoats and brass-mounted shakoes gleamed in solid masses. the air was filled with our english speech, and the hum of voices mingled with loud notes of command, cries of comrades to each other, the familiar address of "bill" to "tom," or of "pat" to "sandy," and an occasional shout of laughter. at one o'clock most of the regiments of the light division had moved off the beach over the hill, and across the country towards a village, to which the advanced parties of the french left had already approached. the second battalion of the rifle brigade led the way, covering the advance with a cloud of skirmishers, and pushed on to the villages of bagaili and kamishli, four miles and three-quarters from the beach, and lying in the road between tchobatar and the alma; and the other regiments followed in order of their seniority, the artillery, under captain anderson, bringing up the rear. one wing of the rifles, under major norcott, occupied kamishli--the other, under lieutenant-colonel lawrence, was installed in bagaili, and they were supported and connected by a small party of cavalry. by this time the rain began to fall pretty heavily, and the wind rose so as to send a little surf on the beach. the duke of cambridge's division followed next in order. the nd division followed, and sir de lacy evans and staff inspected them on the beach. up to three o'clock we landed , men, and two batteries of artillery. many of the staff-officers, who ought to have been mounted, marched on foot, as their horses were not yet landed. generals might be seen sitting on powder-barrels on the beach, awaiting the arrival of "divisional staff horses," or retiring gloomily within the folds of their macintoshes. disconsolate doctors, too, were there, groaning after hospital panniers--but too sorely needed, for more than one man died on the beach. during the voyage several cases of cholera occurred; men were buried on the passage from varna, and there were about men on board not able to move when we landed. the beach was partitioned off by flagstaffs, with colours corresponding to that of each division, in compartments for the landing of each class of man and beast; but it was, of course, almost beyond the limits of possibility to observe these nice distinctions in conducting an operation which must have extended over many square miles of water. shortly before two o'clock, brigadier-general rose, the commissioner for the british army, with marshal st. arnaud, rode over from the french quarters to inform lord raglan, by the authority of the marshal, that "the whole of the french troops had landed." disembarkation was carried on long after sunset, and a part of the rd and th divisions remained on the beach and on the hill near it for the night. all the regiments were the better for the sea voyage. the th and st regiments and the st battalion of the rifle brigade looked remarkably fresh and clean, but that was accounted for, without disparagement to their companions in arms, by the circumstance of their having so recently come out, and that the polish had not been taken off them by a bulgarian summer. the guards had much improved in health during their sojourn on shipboard, and were in good spirits and condition. after a short time the country people began to come in, and we found they were decidedly well inclined towards us. of course they were rather scared at first, but before the day was over they had begun to approach the beach, and to bring cattle, sheep, and vegetables for sale. their carts, or rather arabas, were detained, but liberally paid for; and so well satisfied were the owners, that they went home, promising increased supplies to-morrow. the men were apparently of pure tartar race, with small eyes very wide apart, nose very much sunk, and a square substantial figure. they generally wore turbans of lambswool, and jackets of sheepskin with the wool inwards. they spoke indifferent turkish, and were most ready with information respecting their russian masters, by whom they had been most carefully disarmed. a deputation of them waited on lord raglan to beg for muskets and powder to fight the muscovite. [sidenote: miseries of the first bivouac.] they told us that the ground round sebastopol had been mined for miles, but such rumours are always current about a fortress to be defended, and russian mines not better constructed than those at silistria could not do much harm. they said, too, that the cholera, of which we had had such dreadful experience, had been most fatal at sebastopol, that , of the troops and seamen were dead, and that the latter had been landed to man the forts. they estimated the force between us and sebastopol at about , men, and the garrison at , more. they added, however, that there was an army south of sebastopol, which had been sent to meet an expected attack on kaffa. on the whole, the information we at first obtained was encouraging, and the favourable disposition of the people, and their willingness to furnish supplies, were advantages which had not been expected. while the troops were disembarking, one of the reconnoitring steamers returned with news of a russian camp situated near the beach, about eight miles south of the place where we were landing. the _samson_, the _fury_, and the _vesuvius_, in company with three french steamers, at once proceeded to the spot. they found a camp of about men formed at a mile's distance from the sea. the steamers opened fire with shell at yards, knocking them over right and left, and driving the soldiery in swarms out of the camp, which was broken up after less than an hour's firing. the squadron returned to the fleet, having effected this service, and were ordered to cruise off sebastopol. few of those who were with the expedition will forget the night of the th of september. seldom or never were , englishmen more miserable. no tents had been sent on shore, partly because there had been no time to land them, partly because there was no certainty of our being able to find carriage for them in case of a move. towards night the sky looked very black and lowering; the wind rose, and the rain fell in torrents. the showers increased in violence about midnight, and early in the morning fell in drenching sheets, which pierced through the blankets and greatcoats of the houseless and tentless soldiers. it was their first bivouac--a hard trial enough, in all conscience, worse than all their experiences of bulgaria or gallipoli, for there they had their tents, and now they learned to value their canvas coverings at their true worth. let the reader imagine old generals[ ] and young gentlemen exposed to the violence of pitiless storms, with no bed but the reeking puddle under the saturated blankets, or bits of useless waterproof wrappers, and the twenty-odd thousand poor fellows who could not get "dry bits" of ground, and had to sleep or try to sleep, in little lochs and watercourses--no fire to cheer them, no hot grog, and the prospect of no breakfast;--let him imagine this, and add to it that the nice "change of linen" had become a wet abomination, which weighed the poor men's kits down, and he will admit that this "seasoning" was of rather a violent character--particularly as it came after all the luxuries of dry ship stowage. sir george brown slept under a cart tilted over. the duke of cambridge, wrapped in a waterproof coat, spent most of the night riding about among his men. sir de lacy evans was the only general whose staff had been careful enough to provide him with a tent. in one respect the rain was of service: it gave the men a temporary supply of water; but then it put a fire out of the question, even if enough wood could have been scraped together to make it. the country was, however, destitute of timber. during the night it blew freshly from the west, a heavy sea tumbled into the bay, and sent a high surf upon the beach, which much interfered with the process of landing cavalry and artillery on the th. early in the day signal was made to the steamers to get up steam for eupatoria, and it was no doubt intended to land the cavalry and artillery there, in consequence of the facility afforded by a pier and harbour; but towards noon the wind went down, and the swell somewhat abated. several valuable animals were drowned in an attempt to land some staff horses. lord raglan lost one charger and another swam off seaward, and was only recovered two miles from the shore. some boats were staved and rendered useless, and several others were injured by the roll of the surf on the beach; nor did the horse-boats and flats escape uninjured. operations went on slowly, and the smooth days we had wasted at sea were bitterly lamented. the work was, however, to be done, and in the afternoon orders were given to land cavalry. for this purpose it was desirable to approach the beach as close as possible, and a signal to this effect was made to the cavalry steamers. the _himalaya_ in a few minutes ran in so far that she lay inside every ship in our fleet, with the exception of the little _spitfire_, and immediately commenced discharging her enormous cargo of horses, and nearly men. the attendance of cutters, launches, paddle-box boats, and horse-floats from the navy was prompt, and the seamen of the royal and mercantile marine rivalled each other in their efforts. never did men work so hard, so cheerfully, or so well. the horses, too, were so acclimated to ship life--they were so accustomed to an existence of unstable equilibrium in slings, and to rapid ascents and descents from the tight ropes, that they became comparatively docile. besides this, they were very tired from standing for fourteen days in one narrow box, were rather thin and sickly, and were glad of change of air and position. [sidenote: establishment of a market.] before the disembarkation had concluded for the day, signal was made for all ships to "land tents." it need not be said that this order was most gratefully received. but alas! the order was countermanded, and the tents which had been landed were sent back to the ships again. our french allies, deficient as they had been in means of accommodation and stowage and transport, had yet managed to land their little scraps of tents the day they disembarked. whilst our poor fellows were soaked through and through, their blankets and greatcoats saturated with wet, and without any change of raiment, the french close at hand, and the turks, whose tents were much more bulky than our own, were lying snugly under cover. the most serious result of the wetting was, however, a great increase in illness among the troops. chapter iii. sad scenes--french foragers--order for the advance--first view of the enemy--skirmish at bouljanak. it was decided to garrison eupatoria, and captain brock and marines were sent away for the purpose, in conjunction with a french, force. on the th of september, signal had been made from the _emperor_ for all ships to send their sick on board the _kangaroo_. before evening she had about invalids in all stages of suffering on board. when the time for sailing arrived, the _kangaroo_ hoisted, in reply to orders to proceed, this signal--"it is a dangerous experiment." the _emperor_ then signalled--"what do you mean?" the reply was--"the ship is unmanageable." all the day she was lying with the signal up--"send boats to assistance;" and at last orders were given to transfer some of her melancholy freight to other vessels also proceeding to constantinople. many deaths occurred on board--many miserable scenes took place which it would be useless to describe. it was clear, however, that neither afloat nor on shore was the medical staff sufficient. more surgeons were required, both in the fleet and in the army. often--too often--medical aid could not be obtained at all; and it frequently came too late. provisions were at first plentiful. sixty arabas, laden with flour for sebastopol, were seized on the th of september. more came in for sale or hire the next day: horses also were brought in, and men offered themselves as servants. a market was established for meat and vegetables, and the confidence of the country people in their new customers was confirmed by prompt payment and good treatment. a village near the head-quarters of the light division was sacked by some zouaves, who deprived the inhabitants of everything they could lay their hands upon, in spite of the exertions of the rifles who were stationed in the place. lord raglan gave strict orders that no french soldiers should be permitted to enter the village. on the evening of saturday, september th, a lengthened dark line was seen approaching along the sea coast. as it came nearer, it was resolved by the telescope into a train of spahis, under the command of some cavalry officers, driving in immense flocks of sheep and cattle for the use of their troops in the camp situated on the extreme right of our lines. first came a drove of some hundreds of sheep captured, natives, drivers, and all guarded in the rear by some spahis, flourishing their long lances in high delight. close after them appeared a mighty herd of cattle, tossing their horns and bellowing, as the remorseless spahis goaded them on over the hard shingle, and circled like drovers' dogs around them. next came the french officers in command of the party. they were followed by a string of country carts driven by sad-looking cimmerians, who seemed very anxious to be out of the hands of their arab captors. lastly appeared, with all the gravity of their race, a few camels, which the spahis had laden heavily with grain. such razzias caused an amount of evil quite disproportionate to any paltry gains made by plundering those poor people. they frightened them from our markets, and, though for the moment successful, threatened to deprive us of the vast supplies to be obtained from their goodwill. the much-abused turks remained quietly in their well-ordered camp, living contentedly on the slender rations supplied from their fleet. their appearance was very acceptable to the large mussulman population, and they were very proud of serving on equal terms with their french and english allies. on the th the disembarkation of stores continued and was completed, and the tents were carried up to the various divisions with great labour by large fatigue parties. the siege train still remained on board ship, and it was intended to land it at the mouth of the river belbeck, close to sebastopol, as we could not stay to put it ashore at old fort. the cossacks came round our outposts, and the sky at night was reddened by the glare of their burnings. the tartars said the russians had , men posted in an entrenched camp on the alma river, about twelve miles distant, on the road to sebastopol. a troop of the th hussars, who went out reconnoitring, were pursued by a regiment of cossacks, but retired in order without any casualty. captain creswell, an officer of the regiment, who was a great favourite with his comrades, died of cholera in the little village in which his troop was quartered. at twelve o'clock on the night of monday, september th, orders were given by lord raglan that the troops should strike tents at daybreak, and that all tents should be sent on board the ships of the fleet. m. de bazancourt asserts that the french marshal was ready to march on the th, and that he all along hoped to do so, but that the english were not prepared, as they had an immense quantity of _impedimenta_. he further says that it was arranged between the generals to defer the march till a.m. on the th, but that we again delayed the movement when the time came, and that marshal st. arnaud wrote to lord raglan to say he would move without him if he was not ready the following morning. [sidenote: advance of the armies.] at three o'clock in the morning of the th, the camp was roused by the _réveil_, and the , sleepers woke into active life. the boats from the ships lined the beach to receive the tents which were again returned to the ships. the english commissariat officers struggled in vain with the very deficient means at their disposal to meet the enormous requirements of an army of , men, for the transport of baggage, ammunition, and food; and a scene, which to an unpractised eye seemed one of utter confusion, began and continued for several hours, relieved only by the steadiness and order of the regiments as they paraded previous to marching. the right of the allied forces was covered by the fleet, which moved along with it in magnificent order, darkening the air with innumerable columns of smoke, ready to shell the enemy should they threaten to attack our right, and commanding the land for nearly two miles from the shore. it was nine o'clock ere the whole of our army was ready. the day was warm. on the extreme right and in advance, next the sea, was the st division of the french army, under bosquet, marching by battalion in columns _par peloton_, the artillery being in the centre. the nd division, under canrobert, marching in column by division, protected the right flank, which, however, was in no need of such defence, as it was covered by the allied fleets. the rd division was on the left flank of the french army. the th division and the turks formed the rear guard. the formation of our allies was of a lozenge shape, with the st division at the salient angle, the nd and rd divisions at the lateral angles, and the th division at the other angle, the baggage being in the centre. next to prince napoleon's division was the nd british, under sir de lacy evans, with sir richard england's (the rd) division in his rear in support. on a parallel line with the nd division marched the light division, under sir george brown, with the st division under the duke of cambridge in support in his rear. the order of the english advance was by double columns of companies from the centre of divisions. the th hussars and th lancers moved on our left flank, to protect it, and the th light dragoons and th hussars, in extended order, preceded the infantry, so as to cover our front. the commissariat and baggage followed behind the rd and st divisions, and were covered by the th division as a rear guard. part of the th division and of the th light dragoons were left to protect and clear the beach of stores. they joined the army late on the evening of the th. the country beyond the salt lake, near which we were encamped, was entirely destitute of tree or shrub, and consisted of wide plains, marked at intervals of two or three miles with hillocks and long irregular ridges of hills running down towards the sea at right angles to the beach. it was but little cultivated, except in the patches of land around the unfrequent villages built in the higher recesses of the valleys. hares were started in abundance, and afforded great sport to the soldiers whenever they halted, and several were fairly hunted down among the lines. all oxen, horses, or cattle, had been driven off by the cossacks. the soil was hard and elastic, and was in excellent order for artillery. the troops presented a splendid appearance. the effect of these grand masses of soldiery descending the ridges of the hills, rank after rank, with the sun playing over forests of glittering steel, can never be forgotten by those who witnessed it. onward the torrent of war swept; wave after wave, huge stately billows of armed men, while the rumble of the artillery and tramp of cavalry accompanied their progress. after a march of an hour a halt took place for fifty minutes, during which lord raglan, accompanied by a very large staff, marshal st. arnaud, generals bosquet, forey, and a number of french officers, rode along the front of the columns. the men of their own accord got up from the ground, rushed forward, and column after column rent the air with three thundering english cheers. it was a good omen. as the marshal passed the th regiment, he exclaimed, "english, i hope you will fight well to-day!" "hope!" exclaimed a voice from the ranks, "sure you know we will!" many sick men fell out, and were carried to the rear. it was a painful sight--a sad contrast to the magnificent appearance of the army in front, to behold litter after litter borne past to the carts, with the poor sufferers who had dropped from illness and fatigue. however, the march went on, grand and irresistible. at last, the smoke of burning villages and farm-houses announced that the enemy in front were aware of our march. it was melancholy to see the white walls of the houses blackened with smoke--the flames ascending through the roofs of peaceful homesteads--and the ruined outlines of deserted hamlets. presently, from the top of a hill, a wide plain was visible, beyond which rose a ridge darkened here and there by masses which the practised eye recognised as cavalry. it was our first view of the enemy, and we soon lost sight of them again. on the left of the plain, up in a recess formed by the inward sweep of the two ridges, lay a large village in flames; right before us was a neat white house unburnt, though the outhouses and farm-yard were burning. this was the imperial post-house of bouljanak, just twenty miles from sebastopol, and some of our officers and myself were soon busily engaged in exploring the place. [sidenote: first skirmish with the cossacks.] the house was deserted and gutted. only a picture of a saint, bunches of herbs in the kitchen, and a few household utensils, were left; and a solitary pea-hen stalked sadly about the threshold, which soon fell a victim to a revolver. a small stream ran past us, which was an object of delight to our thirsty soldiers who had marched more than eight miles from their late camp. after a short halt for men and horses by the stream, over which the post-road was carried by a bridge which the enemy had left unbroken for the passage of our artillery, the army pushed on again. the cavalry (about men of the th hussars, the th hussars, and th light dragoons) pushed on in front, and on arriving about a mile beyond the post-house, we clearly made out the cossack lancers on the hills in front. lord cardigan threw out skirmishers in line, who covered the front at intervals of ten or twelve yards from each other. the cossacks advanced to meet us in like order, man for man, the steel of their long lances glittering in the sun. they were rough-looking fellows, mounted on sturdy little horses; but the regularity of their order and the celerity of their movements showed that they were by no means despicable foes. as our skirmishers advanced, the cossacks halted at the foot of the hill. from time to time a clump of lances rose over the summit of the hill and disappeared. lord cardigan was eager to try their strength, and permission was given to him to advance somewhat nearer; but as he did so, dark columns of cavalry appeared in the recesses of the hills. lord lucan therefore ordered the cavalry to halt, gather in their skirmishers, and retire slowly. when our skirmishers halted, the cossacks commenced a fire of carabines from their line of vedettes, which was quite harmless. few of the balls came near enough to let the whiz be heard. i was riding between the cavalry and the skirmishers, with lieutenant-colonel dickson, r.a., captain fellowes, th lancers, dr. elliott, r.a., and we were looking out anxiously for the arrival of maude's troop, when the russians, emboldened by our halt, came over the brow of the hill, and descended the slope in three columns, the centre of which advanced nearer than the others. "now," said dickson, "we'll catch it. these fellows mean mischief." i conceived that it would be a very pleasant thing to look at, whatever they meant. our skirmishers, who had replied smartly to the fire of the cossacks, but without effect, retired and joined their squadrons. at every fifty paces our cavalry faced. fellowes rode off to quicken the advance of the artillery. suddenly one of the russian squares opened--a spurt of white smoke rose out of the gap, and a round shot, which first pitched close to my horse and covered me with dust, tore over the column of cavalry behind, and rolled away between the ranks of the riflemen in the rear, just as they came in view. in another instant a second shot bowled right through the th hussars, and knocked over a horse, taking off his rider's leg above the ankle. another and another followed. meantime the c troop followed by the i troop, galloped over the hillock, but were halted by lord raglan's order at the base in rear of the cavalry on the left flank. our cavalry was drawn up as targets for the enemy's guns, and had they been of iron they could not have been more solid and immovable. the russian gunners were rather slow, but their balls came bounding along, quite visible as they passed, right from the centre of the cavalry columns. after some thirty rounds from the enemy, our artillery, having cleared their front, opened fire. captain brandling laid the first gun, no. , and fired with so true an aim that the shell was seen to burst right over a russian gun, and apparently to shut it up. all our shells were not so successful as the first, but one, better directed than the rest, burst right in the centre of a column of light infantry, which the russians had advanced to support their cavalry. our fire became so hot that the enemy retired in fifteen minutes after we opened on them, and manoeuvring on our left with their light cavalry, seemed to threaten us in that direction; but captains maude and henry having shifted their guns so as to meet their front, the enemy finally withdrew over the hills, and seemed to fall back on the alma. while this affair was going on the french had crept up on the right, and surprised a body of russian cavalry with a round from a battery of nine-pounders, which scattered them in all directions. it is impossible to form an accurate notion of the effect of our fire, but it must have caused the russians a greater loss than they inflicted on us. there is reason to believe they lost about twelve men killed, thirty-five wounded, and thirty-two horses _hors de combat_. we lost six horses, and four men were wounded. two men lost their legs. the others, up to yesterday, though injured severely, were not in danger. a sergeant in the th hussars rode coolly to the rear with his foot dangling by a piece of skin to the bone, and told the doctor he had just come to have his leg dressed. another trooper behaved with equal fortitude, and refused the use of a litter to carry him to the rear, though his leg was broken into splinters. when the russians had retired beyond the heights orders were given to halt and bivouac for the night, and our tired men set to work to gather weeds for fuel. so ended the affair of the bouljanak. lord cardigan was, it is said, anxious to charge, but received most positive orders from lord lucan not to do so. lord raglan was anxious not to bring on any serious affair in the position in which the army was placed, and the cavalry were ordered to retire towards the bouljanak, their retreat being supported by the st brigade light division, and part of the nd division. as our skirmishers retired and formed, the cossacks raised a derisive yell, but did not attempt to pursue or molest them. it is now known that this was a _reconnaissance_ made by the general kiriakoff with the nd brigade of the th division, no. light field battery, the nd brigade of the th division of cavalry, consisting of the saxe weimar and another regiment of hussars, don cossacks, and one cossack battery. the infantry kept out of sight behind the ridge, and we were not aware of their presence in such force. as soon as the rations of rum and meat had been served out, the casks were broken up, and the staves used to make fires for cooking, aided by nettles and long grass. at night the watch-fires of the russians were visible on our left and front. it was cold and dreary, and if i could intrude the recital of the sorrows of a tentless, baggageless man wandering about in the dark from regiment to regiment in hope of finding his missing traps,[ ] i might tell a tale amusing enough to read, the incidents of which were very distressing to the individual concerned. the night was damp, the watch-fires were mere flashes, which gave little heat, and barely sufficed to warm the rations; but the camp of british soldiers is ever animated by the very soul of hospitality; and the wanderer was lucky enough to get a lodging on the ground beside colonel yea, of the th fusileers, who was fortunate enough to have a little field-tent, and a bit of bread and biscuit to spare after a march of ten miles and a fast of ten hours. [sidenote: expectation of an attack.] all night arabas continued to arrive, and soldiers who had fallen out or gone astray. sir george brown, sir de lacy evans, the brigadier-generals, and staff-officers, went about among their divisions ere the men lay down. it was admitted that, as a military spectacle, the advance of our troops, and the little affair of our artillery, as well as the management of the cavalry, formed one of the most picturesque and beautiful that could be imagined. all night we could see the russian position on the alma clearly defined by the watch-fires, which illuminated the sky. a heavy dew fell, but the night was clear, and many a debate did we hold as to the strength of the enemy--of the ground they occupied--of their qualities as soldiers. it was by no means sure that the russian cavalry might not beat up our quarters during the night, and the cavalry were placed in advance, and the st brigade light division supported them, lying down in rear. there is every reason to be thankful that they gave us a quiet night, for an alarm on the part of an enemy who knew the ground might have greatly distressed us, at little risk to them. lord raglan and part of his staff occupied the rooms of the deserted post-house at bouljanak, which were tolerably comfortable. colonel lagondie, of the head-quarters staff, who had been sent by lord raglan to take a message to prince napoleon, to place his division nearer to sir de lacy evans, was taken prisoner, owing to his having mistaken a party of cossacks for english cavalry. when the armies halted, the french had their right resting a good deal in advance towards the alma, so that they were nearer to it than we were. the line of the armies was in an oblique position, the english on the left being thrown back on the bouljanak, and the french on the right being a good deal in advance of it. chapter iv. m. de bazancourt's strictures--the advance--french attack--a delicate question--advance of the british--the light division--the guards--the victory--russian account--humane efforts--advance from the alma--eskel. with early morning on tuesday, september th, the troops were up and stirring; but the march did not begin for some hours afterwards, and this circumstance has given rise to severe strictures by several french writers on the conduct of our generals on the occasion. at o'clock on the evening of the th, says m. de bazancourt, m. st. arnaud convened the french generals before his tent, and explained to them verbally his plan of battle, concerted with the english commander-in-chief. this plan was that the english army should execute "a turning movement on the russian right, whilst its attention was seriously drawn on its left by a french division, and that the bulk of the army should make a powerful effort to force the russian centre." general bosquet, who had charge of the french right, consisting of the nd division, supported by the turks, was to turn the russian left by the abrupt slopes, "judged (by the russians) to be inaccessible," and therefore not defended by artillery. the st and rd divisions were to assault the centre of the position--the th division forming the reserve. the hour of starting was fixed as follows:--the french right wing at . a.m.; the left wing, formed by the english, at a.m.; the centre at a.m. having given these explanations to his generals, m. st. arnaud sent colonel trochu, with general rose, across to lord raglan, to inform him of the plan, and the hours fixed for the march of the troops, which lord raglan "accepted entirely" in detail. on this statement it may be remarked, that if the plan had been "concerted" between the generals, as the french writer declares, there was no necessity for lord raglan's acceptance of a proposition which he had, conjointly with another, previously agreed to. in order to obtain unity of action in the allied movements prince napoleon and general canrobert received orders to communicate with lord raglan and with sir de lacy evans, who commanded the nd division, immediately in proximity with the french. [sidenote: plan of attack.] the french writer proceeds:--"at . the nd division quitted its bivouac, and descended into the plain towards the alma, which it reached at . , but no movement was visible among the english army. general canrobert and prince napoleon, astonished at this immobility, so contrary to the instructions, went in all haste to sir de lacy evans, whom they found in his tent, and expressed their astonishment at a delay which might gravely compromise the success of the day. 'i have not received the order,' replied sir de lacy evans. they were at once obliged to arrest the march of bosquet's division, and on informing the marshal, who was already mounted, of what had passed, he sent over a staff officer, major renson, to order them to wait for the english troops, who were _en retard_, and despatched colonel trochu in all haste to lord raglan, whom he found on horseback, although the english troops were still in the encampment as he passed the lines, and not at all prepared for the march as agreed upon. it was half-past o'clock when colonel trochu reached the head-quarters of our army; and when lord raglan had received the message which the marshal sent, to the effect that he thought, after what his lordship said to the colonel the night before, that the english should push on in front at o'clock, he said with that calm which distinguished him,--'i am giving orders at this moment, and we are just about to start. part of my troops did not arrive at their bivouac till late at night. tell the marshal that at this moment the orders are being carried all along the line.'" it will be observed that general evans was not only not asked for his opinion in concerting the plan of attack, but that he was not even made acquainted with it. this is the more inexplicable, that general evans' division, from its position, would necessarily have to co-operate with the french. as it is desirable that the point of order as to this march should be fully illustrated, i think it best to let sir de lacy evans speak for himself. "shortly after daybreak on the morning of this battle his imperial highness prince napoleon and general canrobert did me the honour to come into my tent to confer on the co-operation of my division with that of the prince in the ensuing conflict. they informed me that this co-operation had been agreed to the previous evening between the two commanders-in-chief, expressed surprise that i had not been made acquainted with it, and showed me a well-executed plan by the french staff of the russian position, and of the proposed lines of movement of the allied columns of attack. "according to this plan, general bosquet's troops and the turks, supported by the powerful fire of the shipping, were to turn the enemy's left. the second british division, that of the prince, and two other french divisions, were to attack their centre. the whole of the remainder of the british army was to turn the enemy's right. "i expressed the very great pleasure i should have in fulfilling my share of these operations, and with this view sent forthwith to lord raglan for permission--which was given--to place at once my right as proposed, in contact with the left of the prince, which was promptly done. "about three hours, however, elapsed before the armies (excepting the corps of general bosquet) received orders to advance. to the unavoidable want of unity in command this delay was probably attributable. "but before moving off, both head-quarter staffs passed along the front. on reaching my division lord raglan expressed to me a dissent from part of the plan alluded to, not necessary to observe on here; mentioning also, in the course of his remarks, a disposition he supposed to exist on the part of the marshal or the french chiefs to appropriate me and my division altogether, which he could not allow; that he had no objection to my communicating and co-operating with and regulating my advance by that of the prince's division, but could not consent to my receiving orders through any one but himself. "on hearing this, i requested him to send to acquaint the marshal that such was his lordship's desire, as i believed a different expectation was entertained, which, if not removed, might lead during the action to misunderstanding. this his lordship immediately did. and it was arranged that major claremont, one of the british commissioners with the french army, was to be the medium of any communications to me which the french chiefs might find it desirable to make. "the armies advanced. after about three miles a halt for a short interval took place by order of the commander of the force. on the arrival of the second division in front of the village of bourliouk, which, having been prepared for conflagration by the russians, became suddenly, for some hundred yards, an impenetrable blaze, major claremont came to me in great haste, to say from the marshal that a part of the french army, having ascended the heights on the south of the river, became threatened by large bodies of russians, and might be compromised, unless the attention of the enemy were immediately drawn away by pressing them in our front. "i made instant dispositions to conform to this wish--sending at the same time, as was my duty, an officer of my staff (colonel the hon. p. herbert) to lord raglan, who was then a short distance in our rear, for his lordship's approval--which was instantly granted." "it was," says m. de bazancourt, in the next paragraph, " . before colonel trochu announced that the english were ready to march, and the result was that it was impossible to execute the original plan of battle," for the enemy had full time to counteract the dispositions of the army, and menschikoff, seeing that bosquet's attack was of secondary importance, weakened his left wing to reinforce his centre and his right. at o'clock bosquet received the order to march, which was countermanded soon afterwards, as he was still too far in advance, and whilst the halt took place, that active and able general made a _reconnaissance_, the first of the day, of the enemy's position, and discovered two passes to the heights in front--one a mere path on the mountain side, close to the sea; the second about two-thirds of a mile to the left of that path, running from the burning village of almatamak, and ascending the heights by a very narrow ravine. it was plain that infantry could get up, but it seemed very doubtful if guns could be brought up the second of these passes to the heights, and the first was utterly impracticable for artillery. one of the russian officers, speaking of this battle, says that the french, in making this _reconnaissance_, brought up a large white stone, and fixed it on the north bank of the river; but i think it much more likely that it was the white cart belonging to colonel desaint, the topographical officer attached to the french army, for it is not likely that our allies would have taken such trouble as to move down an enormous stone for no possible object. [sidenote: scaling the alma heights.] it appears somewhat strange that no _reconnaissance_ was made of the russian position by the generals. they did not reconnoitre the alma, nor did they procure any information respecting the strength of the enemy or of the ground they occupied. they even concerted their plan before they had seen the enemy at all, relying on the bravery of the troops, not only to force the russians from their lines, but, if necessary, to swim, or to ford a stream of unknown depth, with steep rotten banks, the bridges across which might, for all they knew, and certainly ought, according to the practice of war, to have been effectually destroyed by the enemy, so as to make the passage of guns all but impossible. we shall first follow the french attack. on returning to his troops, bosquet, with the brigade of d'autemarre, followed by its artillery, moved on the village, whilst the brigade of general bouat was directed to march to the very mouth of the river, and to ascend by the first of the paths indicated, after having crossed the shallow bar, in single file, up to their waists on a sort of narrow rib of hard sand which had been discovered by the officers of the _roland_. the artillery of the brigade, being unable to pass, was sent back to join that of d'autemarre's brigade; and the soldiers of bouat's brigade, having crossed the river, commenced to climb up the steep paths to the top of the opposite height without meeting any obstruction from the enemy, who had, indeed, been driven away from the seaside by the heavy guns of the steamers. the brigade of d'autemarre, which passed the alma without any difficulty, by the bridge close to the burnt village of almatamak, moving forward at the same time with great celerity, swarmed up the very steep cliffs on the opposite side, and gaining the heights in a few minutes, after immense exertions, crowned the summit, and dispersed a feeble troop of cossacks who were posted there. it will be seen that the french right had thus been permitted to ascend the very difficult heights in front of them without opposition from the enemy; and although the cliffs were so precipitous as to create considerable difficulties to even the most active, hardy, and intelligent troops in scaling their rugged face, yet it would seem very bad generalship on the part of prince menschikoff to have permitted them to have established themselves on the plateau, if we did not know, by the angry controversy which has taken place between him, general kiriakoff, and prince gortschakoff i., that it was part of his plan to allow a certain number of battalions to gain the edge of the cliffs, and then, relying on the bayonet, to send heavy masses of infantry against them and hurl them down into the alma, and the ravines which run towards its banks. general bosquet, when he observed this success, at once spurred up the steep road of which mention has already been made; and major barral, who commanded the artillery, having satisfied himself that the guns could just be brought up by the most tremendous exertions, orders were given for their advance, and they were, by prodigious efforts of horses and infantry soldiers, urged up the incline, and placed on the plateau at right angles to the line of the cliffs, so as to enfilade the russians, on whom, protected by the rd zouaves, who lay down in a small ravine about a hundred yards in front, they at once opened fire. prince menschikoff, surprised by the extraordinary rapidity of this advance, and apprized of its success by the roar of the french guns, ordered up three batteries of eight pieces each to silence the french fire, and to cover an advance of his infantry against the two brigades which were forming on his left; and finding that the french maintained themselves against this superior fire, in a rage despatched two field batteries to crush them utterly. these guns were badly managed, and opened in line at the distance of yards, and the fire, for nearly an hour, was confined to a duel of artillery, in which the french, though suffering severely, kept their ground with great intrepidity and courage. all at once the russians ordered some cavalry and a field battery to menace the right of the line of french guns; but bouat's brigade having pushed on to meet them, and a few well-directed shells having burst among the horsemen, they turned round and retired with alacrity. according to the concerted plan, the division canrobert and the division napoleon were not to attack till the division bosquet had gained the heights, and were engaged with the enemy. the directions given by the marshal to the generals ere they advanced were simply, "keep straight before you, and follow your own inspiration for your manoeuvres. we must gain these heights. i have no other instructions to give to men on whom i rely." on hearing the first guns of bosquet's artillery, the french, in the centre and in the left, deployed and advanced, covered by a number of riflemen. the st zouaves, under colonel bourbaki, at once rushed to the front, driving before them a line of russian riflemen and skirmishers placed among the orchard trees and rivers which skirted the deep banks of the alma, and availing themselves of the branches of these trees to swing themselves across the narrow stream into which others plunged up to the waist. the russian regiment of moscow came down the opposite slopes to support their skirmishers, but were driven back with loss by the sudden fire of the batteries of the first division, that had just come into action. having thus cleared the way, the st and th battalions of chasseurs, the th of the line, and the st zouaves advanced amid a storm of grape, round shot, and musketry up the high banks before them, at the other side of which were deployed masses of the enemy, concealed from view in the ravines and by the inequalities of the ground. [sidenote: a sharp encounter.] at the same time, the prince's division advancing towards bourliouk, which was in flames, was met by a very serious fire of riflemen and skirmishing parties of infantry from the vineyards and rugged ground on the other side of the stream, and by a plunging fire of artillery, which was answered by the batteries of his division; but, after a short pause, the first line, consisting of cler's zouaves and the infantry of marine, supported by the second line under general thomas, passed the alma and drove back the enemy, who opened a masked battery upon them, which occasioned considerable loss. canrobert's division, meantime, was compelled to attack without the aid of its artillery; for the river in their front was not practicable for guns, and they were obliged to be carried round to the right to follow the road by which bosquet's batteries had already reached the summit; but the column pushed on energetically, and forming on the crest of the plateau by battalions, in double columns on two lines, ready to form square under the fire of the enemy's artillery, which had been engaged with that of the french second division, drove back the russian regiments in front, which, on retiring, formed in square in front of their right flank. it was then that the officers perceived a white stone tower, about yards on their left, behind which was formed a dense mass of the enemy's infantry. these with great precision advanced, at the same time pouring in a tremendous fire, at the distance of yards, upon canrobert's division, which was, as we have seen, left without its artillery. the general, perceiving his danger, sent off a staff-officer to bosquet's division, and a battery, commanded by captain. fievet, coming up to his assistance in all haste, opened fire with grape on the ponderous mass of the enemy, checking their fire, whilst bosquet, by a flank movement, threatened to take its battalions in the rear. the third division, with equal success and greater losses, attacking a mamelon occupied in force by the enemy, drove them back with great intrepidity: but it was evident by the movements of the russians that they were about to make a great effort to save their centre, and m. st. arnaud sent off orders to general forey, who commanded the reserve, to move one of his brigades (de lourmel's) to general canrobert's support, and to proceed with the other (d'aurelle's) to the extreme right of the battle. this was a happy inspiration: d'aurelle's brigade, with great speed, crossed the river, and arrived to the support of canrobert's division at a most critical moment. the russians seemed to consider the telegraph tower as the key of the centre of their position. sharpshooters, within the low wall outside the work, and batteries on its flanks, directed a steady fire on the french, who were checked for a moment by its severity: but the two batteries of the reserve came up and drew off some of the enemy's fire. the russians, however, still continued a serious fusillade, and directed volleys of grape against the french, who were lying down in the ravine till the decisive moment should arrive for them to charge the enemy. the losses of our allies were sensible; it was evident that the russian cavalry, says, m. de bazancourt,[ ] were preparing for a rush in upon them from the flank of the russian square, which, partially covered by the telegraph tower, kept up an incessant fire from two faces upon the french. colonel cler, at this critical moment, perceiving that the st and nd zouaves, the chasseurs, and the th regiment had arrived, calling to his men to charge, dashed at the tower, which, after a short but sanguinary combat, they carried at the point of the bayonet, driving out the russians in confusion, and at the very moment general canrobert, with his division, advanced at the double to support the movement. struck down for a moment by a fragment of a shell which wounded him on the chest and shoulder, the gallant officer insisted upon leading on his men to complete the success obtained against the russian left and left-centre; and generals bosquet and canrobert, wheeling round their divisions from left to right, drove back the enemy towards the rear of the troops, which were still contending with the english, or forced them to seek for safety in flight. it was at this moment that m. st. arnaud, riding up to the generals, congratulated them on the day, and directed them to proceed to the aid of the english. thanks be to the valour of our soldiers--thanks be to heaven--we required no french aid that day. we received none, except that which was rendered by one battery of french artillery of the reserve, under m. de la boussiniere, which fired a few rounds on some broken russian columns from a spot close to the two english guns, of which i shall have to speak hereafter. such is the part, according to their account, which the french had in the victory of the alma. their masses crossed the river and crowded the plateau ere they were seriously engaged, and their activity and courage, aided by the feeble generalship of the commander of the russian left, and by many happy chances, enabled them to carry the position with comparatively little loss. having thus far given the french version of the action, let us return to our countrymen, and see what was their share in this great battle, which was not decisive, so far as the fate of sebastopol was concerned, merely because we lacked either the means or the military genius to make it so. there is one question which has often been asked in our army and in the tents of our allies, which is supposed to decide the controversy respecting the military merits of st. arnaud and lord raglan: "would napoleon have allowed the russians three days' respite after such a battle?" the only reply that could be made if napoleon commanded the victorious army, and was not hampered with a colleague of equal power, was, and is, that the notion is preposterous. "but," say the french, "the english were not ready to move next day." "ay, it is true," reply the english, "because we were far from the sea; but still we offered to assist you to pursue the very night of the battle." "then," rejoin the french, "we were too much exhausted, and it would have been foolish to have attempted such a movement, and to have divided our army." posterity, which cares but little for ephemeral political cliquerie, family connexion, or personal amiability, will pass a verdict in this cause which none of us can hope to influence or evade. [sidenote: another advance] the reason of the extraordinary delay in executing our plan of attack has never yet been explained. lord raglan's excuse, as given by m. de bazancourt, is not worth any notice but this--it is not true. the staff-officer says that "the army was under arms soon after a.m., and on the move" where?--a mile or two too much inland? what were we doing for five hours? for this same authority further on says, "it was a.m. before we came in sight of the alma." now, the distance between the bouljanak and the alma is barely six miles. were we five hours marching six miles? this is indeed a feeble statement; but it is not quite so weak as that which follows, namely, that it was not till _after_ o'clock "the plan of attack was finally settled." this statement is made to cover lord raglan, and to prevent there being any suspicion that a plan had been arranged the night before, for the disregard and non-performance of which the staff-officer's uncle was responsible. that lord raglan was brave as a hero of antiquity, that he was kind to his friends and to his staff, that he was unmoved under fire, and unaffected by personal danger, that he was noble in manner, gracious in demeanour, of dignified bearing, and of simple and natural habits, i am, and ever have been, ready not only to admit, but to state with pleasure; that he had many and great difficulties to contend with, _domi militiæque_, i believe; but that this brave, high-spirited, and gallant nobleman had been so long subservient to the power of a superior mind--that he had lost, if he ever possessed, the ability to conceive and execute large military plans--and that he had lost, if he ever possessed, the faculty of handling great bodies of men, i am firmly persuaded. he was a fine english gentleman--a splendid soldier--perhaps an unexceptionable lieutenant under a great chief; but that he was a great chief, or even a moderately able general, i have every reason to doubt, and i look in vain for any proof of it whilst he commanded the english army in the crimea. it was o'clock ere the british line moved towards the alma. a gentle rise in the plain enabled us to see the russian position for some time after, but the distance was too great to make out details, and we got into a long low bottom between the ridge and another elevation in front. our army advanced in columns of brigades in deploying distance, our left protected by a line of skirmishers, the brigade of cavalry, and horse artillery. the army, in case of attack on the left or rear, could form a hollow square, with the baggage in the centre. sir de lacy evans's division, on the extreme right, was in contact with the french left, under prince napoleon, which was of course furthest from the sea. at the distance of two miles we halted, and then the troops steadily advanced, with our left frittered into a foam of skirmishers of the rifle brigade, major northcott covered by the th and th hussars, th light dragoons, and th lancers. this was a sight of inexpressible grandeur, and one was struck with the splendid appearance of our infantry in line as seen from the front. the bright scarlet, the white facings, and cross belts, rendering a man conspicuous, gave him an appearance of size which other uniforms do not produce. the french columns looked small compared to our battalions, though we knew they were quite as strong; but the marching of our allies, laden as they were, was wonderful. our staff was more showy and numerous than that of the french. nothing strikes the eye so much as a cocked hat and bunch of white feathers; several officers doffed the latter adornment, thinking that they were quite conspicuous on horseback. when the regiments halted, i went past the light division, part of the nd division, the guards, and the highlanders. many a laugh did i hear from lips which in two hours more were closed for ever. the officers and men made the most of the delay, and ate what they had with them; but there was a want of water, and the salt pork made them so thirsty that in the passage of the alma the men stopped to drink and fill their canteens under the heaviest fire. the plan of attack has been already described, as well as the circumstances of our early march. as we advanced we could see the enemy very distinctly--their grey-coated masses resembling patches of wood on the hill-sides. the ravines held them occasionally, but still we could see that from within a mile of the sea coast, up to the left of the tartar village, towards which we were advancing, a strong force of infantry was posted, and now and then, as the russian made his last disposition to meet our advance, the sun's rays flashed brightly in diamond-like points from bright steel. the line of the river below the heights they occupied was indicated by patches of the richest verdure, and by belts of fine fruit trees and vineyards. the alma is a tortuous little stream, which has worked its way down through a red clay soil, deepening its course as it proceeds seawards, and which drains the steppe-like lands on its right bank, making at times pools and eddies too deep to be forded, though it can generally be crossed by waders who do not fear to wet their knees. the high banks formed by the action of the stream in cutting through the rich soil vary from the right side to the left, according to the course of the stream--the corresponding bank on the opposite side being generally of a slope, more or less abrupt, as the bank is high. the drop from the edge to the water varies also from two to six or eight feet. along the right or north bank of the alma there is a number of tartar houses, at times numerous and close enough to form a cluster of habitations deserving the name of a hamlet, at times scattered wide apart amid little vineyards, surrounded by walls of mud and stone of three feet in height. the bridge over which the post road passes from bouljanak to sebastopol runs close to one of these hamlets--a village, in fact, of some fifty houses. this village is approached from the north by a road winding through a plain nearly level till it comes near to the village, where the ground dips, so that at the distance of three hundred yards a man on horseback can hardly see the tops of the nearer and more elevated houses, and can only ascertain the position of the stream by the willows and verdure along its banks. at the left or south side of the alma the ground assumes a very different character--it rises at once from the water in steep banks up to plateaux at the top of varying height and extent. the general surface is pierced here and there by the course of the winter's torrents, which have formed small ravines, commanded by the heights above. a remarkable ridge of tumuli and hillocks, varying in height from to feet, runs along the course of the alma on the left side, assuming the form of cliffs when close to the sea, and rising in a gentle slope a little to the left of the village i have mentioned, which is called by the tartar, and marked on the maps as burliuk. at its commencement on the left this ridge recedes from the course of the river for several hundred yards, the ground sloping gradually from the bank up to the knolls and tumuli into which the ridge is broken. it then strikes downwards at a sharp angle to its former course, till it sinks into the high ground over the river below the village. there is then a sort of [greek: d] formed, of which the base is the river, and the sides the elevated terrace of the ridge. this terrace, or the succession of terraces, is commanded by higher ground in the rear, but is separated from the position on its proper left by a ravine. it is marked by deep gullies towards the river. if the reader will place himself on the top of richmond-hill, dwarf the thames to the size of a rivulet, and imagine the hill to be deprived of vegetation, he may form some notion of the position occupied by the russians, the plains on the left bank of the thames will bear some similitude to the land over which the british and french advanced, barring only the verdure. on the slope of the rising ground, to the right of the bridge, the russians had thrown up two epaulements, armed with -pounder batteries and -pound howitzers. [illustration plan of the heights and bay of alma.] [sidenote: gathering up for an attack] these guns enfiladed the slopes parallel to them, or swept them to the base. the principal battery consisted of a semicircular earthwork, in which were embrasures for guns. on the right, and farther in the rear, was another breastwork, with embrasures for guns, which played on the right of the bridge. to the left, on a low ridge in front of the village, they had placed two and a half field batteries, which threw and yards beyond the village. the first battery was about yards distant from the river, but the hill rose behind it for feet. the second was turned more towards the right. about . , when we were about three miles from the village, the steamers ran in close to the bluff at the south side of the alma, commenced shelling the heights, the enemy were obliged to retire their infantry and guns, and the ships covered the advance of the french right, and never permitted the russians to molest them till they were in force on the plateau. at one o'clock we saw the french columns struggling up the hills, covered by a cloud of skirmishers. they swarmed like bees to the face of the cliffs, tiny puffs of smoke rising from every tree, and shrub, and stone. on the right they formed their masses without opposition. at sight of a threatening mass of russian infantry, who advanced slowly, pouring in all the time a tremendous rolling fire, the french, who were forming in the centre, seemed to pause, but it was only to collect their skirmishers, for as soon as they had formed they ran up the hill at the _pas de charge_, and broke up the russians at once, who fled in disorder, with loss, up the hill. we could see men dropping on both sides, and the wounded rolling down the steep. however, our attention was soon drawn to our own immediate share in the battle. as i had slept at the head-quarters camp, i joined the general staff, and for some time rode with them; but when they halted, just before going into action, major burke, who was serving on the staff as aide-de-camp to sir john burgoyne, advised me to retire, "as," said he, "i declare i will make sir john himself speak to you if you do not." there was at the time very little to be seen from the ground which the staff occupied, and there were so many officers along with lord raglan, that it was difficult to see in front at all; and so, observing sir de lacy evans somewhat in advance on the right of lord raglan, on higher ground about a quarter of a mile away, i turned my horse to join him, and in an instant afterwards a round shot rushed over the heads of the staff, being fired at the rifles in advance of them. as it turned out, sir de lacy's small staff suffered much more severely than lord raglan's large one, although the staff-officer seems firmly persuaded that the enemy's artillery was partially directed against the body to which he belonged. one could scarcely have been in a safer place on the field, considering out of so large a body only two were wounded, whereas five of general evans's small staff were badly hit or contused. by the time i had reached sir de lacy evans, who was engaged in giving orders to brigadier adams, the round shot were rolling through the columns, and the men halted and lay down by order of lord raglan. sir de lacy said, "well, if you want to see a great battle, you're in a fair way of having your wish gratified." at this moment the whole of the village in our front burst into flames--the hay-ricks and wooden sheds about it causing the fire to run rapidly, fanned by a gentle breeze, which carried the smoke and sparks towards our line. sir de lacy rode towards the left to get rid of this annoyance, and to get to his men, and as he did so, the round shot came bounding among the men lying down just before us. from the groans and stifled cries it was too plain they left dead and dying in their course. the rifles in advance of our left were sharply engaged with the enemy in the vineyard, and, anxious to see what was going on, i rode over in that direction, and arrived at the place where were stationed the staff of the light division. sir george brown was just at the time giving some orders to one of his aides relative to the "russian cavalry on our left front." i looked across the stream, and saw, indeed, some cavalry and guns slowly moving down towards the stream from the elevated ground over its banks; but my eye at the same time caught a most formidable-looking mass of burnished helmets, tipped with brass, just above the top of the hill on our left, at the other side of the river. one could plainly see through the glass that they were russian infantry, but i believe the gallant old general thought at the time that they were cavalry, and that a similar error led to the serious mistake, later in the day, which deprived the light division of part of its regimental strength, and wasted it on "preparing to receive" an imaginary "cavalry." sir george looked full of fight, clean shaven, neat and compact; i could not help thinking, however, there was a little pleasant malice in his salutation to me. as he rode past, he said, in a very jaunty, hyde park manner, "it's a very fine day, mr. russell." at this moment the whole of our light was almost obscured by the clouds of black smoke from the burning village on our right, and the front of the russian line above us had burst into a volcano of flame and white smoke--the roar of the artillery became terrible--we could hear the heavy rush of the shot, those terrible dumps into the ground, and the crash of the trees, through which it tore with resistless fury and force; splinter and masses of stone flew out of the walls. it was rather provoking to be told so coolly it was a very fine day amid such circumstances; but at that very moment the men near us were ordered to advance, and they did so in quick time in open line towards the walls which bounded the vineyards before us. as i had no desire to lead my old friends of the light division into action, i rode towards the right to rejoin sir de lacy evans, if possible; and as i got on the road i saw lord raglan's staff riding towards the river, and the shot came flinging close to me, one, indeed, killing one of two bandsmen who were carrying a litter close to my side, after passing over the head of my horse. it knocked away the side of his face, and he fell dead--a horrible sight. the g and b batteries of the second division were unlimbered in front, and were firing with great steadiness on the russians; and now and then a rocket, with a fiery tail and a huge waving mane of white smoke, rushed with a shrill shout against the enemy's massive batteries. before me all was smoke--our men were lying down still; but the rifles, led by major norcott, conspicuous on a black horse, were driving back the enemy's sharpshooters with signal gallantry, and clearing the orchards and vineyards in our front by a searching fire. when i reached the spot where i had last seen sir de lacy evans, he was nowhere to be found, for he had, as i afterwards heard, ridden with his staff close to the river by the burning village. my position was becoming awkward. far away in the rear was the baggage, from which one could see nothing; but where i was placed was very much exposed. a shell burst over my head, and one of the fragments tore past my face with an angry whir-r-r, and knocked up the earth at my poor pony's feet. close at hand, and before me, was a tolerably good stone-house, one story high, with a large court-yard, in which were several stacks of hay that had not as yet caught fire. i rode into this yard, fastened up my pony to the rope binding one of the ricks, and entered the house, which was filled with fragments of furniture, torn paper, and books, and feathers, and cushion linings, and established myself at the window, from which i could see the russian artillerymen serving their guns; their figures, now distinctly revealed against the hill side, and again lost in a spurting whirl of smoke. i was thinking what a terrible sort of field-day this was, and combating an uneasy longing to get to the front, when a tremendous crash, as though a thunderclap had burst over my head, took place right above me, and in the same instant i was struck and covered with pieces of broken tiles, mortar, and stones, the window out of which i was looking flew into pieces, parts of the roof fell down, and the room was filled with smoke. [sidenote: a warning to quit.] there was no mistaking this warning to quit. a shell had burst in the ceiling. as i ran out into the yard i found my pony had broken loose, but i easily caught him, and scarcely had i mounted when i heard a tremendous roll of musketry on my left front, and looking in the direction, i saw the lines of our red jackets in the stream, and swarming over the wooden bridge. a mass of russians were at the other side of the stream, firing down on them from the high banks, but the advance of the men across the bridge forced these battalions to retire; and i saw, with feelings which i cannot express, the light division scrambling, rushing, foaming like a bloody surge up the ascent, and in a storm of fire, bright steel, and whirling smoke, charge towards the deadly epaulement, from which came roar and flash incessantly. i could distinctly see sir george brown and the several mounted officers above the heads of the men, and could detect the dark uniforms of the rifles scattered here and there in front of the waving mass. on the right of this body, the th, th, and th were slowly winning their way towards the battery, exposed to a tremendous fire, which swallowed them up in the fiery grey mantle of battle. the rush of shot was appalling, and i recollect that i was particularly annoyed by the birds which were flying about distractedly in the smoke, as i thought they were fragments of shell. already the wounded were passing by me. one man of the th was the first; he limped along with his foot dangling from the ankle, supporting himself on his firelock. "thank you kindly, sir," said he, as i gave him a little brandy, the only drop i had left. "glory be to god, i killed and wounded some of the roosians before they crippled me, any way." he halted off towards the rear. in another moment two officers approached--one leaning on the other--and both wounded, as i feared, severely. they belonged to the th. they went into the enclosure i had left, and having assured them i would bring them help, i rode off towards the rear, and returned with the surgeon of the cavalry division, who examined their wounds. all this time the roar of the battle was increasing. i went back to my old spot; in doing so i had to ride gently, for wounded men came along in all directions. one was cut in two by a round shot as he approached. many of them lay down under the shelter of a wall, which was, however, enfiladed by the enemy. just at this moment i saw the guards advancing in the most majestic and stately order up the hill; while through the intervals and at their flanks poured the broken masses of the light division, which their officers were busy in re-forming. the highlanders, who were beyond them, i could not see; but i never will forget the awful fury, the powerful detonation of the tremendous volleys which guards and highlanders poured in upon the russian battalions, which in vain tried to defend their batteries and to check the onward march of that tide of victory. all of a sudden the round shot ceased to fly along the line; then there was a sharp roll of musketry and a heavy fire of artillery which lasted for some moments. then one, two, three round shot pitched in line, ricochetting away to the rear. as i looked round to see what mischief they did, a regiment came rapidly towards the river. i rode towards them; they were the th. "the cannon shot come right this way, and you'll suffer frightfully if you go on." as i spoke, a shell knocked up the dust to our right, and colonel waddy, pushing the left, led his men across the river. i rode towards the bridge. the road wall was lined by wounded. fitzgerald ( th), with his back against the wall, was surveying his wounded legs with wonderful equanimity. "i wish they had left me one, at all events," said he, as we tried to stop the bleeding. as i passed the bridge there was a spattering of musketry. the cannon were still busy on our right, and field-guns were firing on the retreating russians, whose masses were over the brow of the hill. then there was a thundering cheer, loud as the roar of battle, and one cannon boomed amid its uproar. this was the victory. a few paces brought me to the bloody slopes where friend and foe lay in pain, or in peace for ever. [sidenote: a nice question.] when the columns were deploying, northcott moved from the left and advanced to the front of the light and first divisions, till they came to a long low stone wall. here they waited till the line came up. the instant they did so, the two front companies, in extended order, leaped over the wall into the vineyards, the two companies in support moving down a road to their left, on a ford, by which they crossed the stream. the rifles were first across the river. they were under the cover of a bank which bounded the plateau, and hid them from the fire at our advancing columns. it was a second terrace; for just at this place the ground was a series of three giant steps--the first being that from the river to the top of the bank; the second, from the plateau at the top of the bank to the plateau on which the enemy were in position; and the third being from that position to the highest ground of all, on which they had their reserves. no sooner had the rifles lined this lower ridge than the enemy pushed a column of infantry, headed by some few cossacks, down the road which led to the ford, and threatened to take them in rear and flank and destroy them, for these gallant fellows were without support. major norcott, however, was not dismayed, but at once made the most skilful disposition to meet this overwhelming column of the enemy. retiring from the ridge, he placed one of the four companies under him on the road by which they were advancing, two others he posted along the bank of a vineyard on the right of this road, and with the fourth he occupied the farm-house in the centre of the vineyard: thus availing himself of the resources of the ground with much skill and judgment. at this moment there were no supports in sight--nothing to rest or form upon in the rear--the rifles were quite alone. the russians advanced leisurely; but to the astonishment of our officers, just as the men were about to open fire on them, the cossacks and the column halted, and then wheeling to the right-about, retired up the road and disappeared over the brow of the hill. on looking round, however, the phenomenon was soon explained--codrington's brigade was rushing across the river under a tremendous fire, and at the same time the russians advanced heavy columns of infantry towards the ridge over the stream. the rifles moved towards their right to join the light division, and at the same time poured in a close and deadly fire upon the dense formation of the enemy, which must have caused them great loss. having effected their junction, the rifles moved up with the light division, and bringing up their left shoulders, threw themselves on the flank of the battery, bravely led by major norcott, till they were forced to retire with their supports. one company, under captain colville, was separated from the left wing, and did not participate as fully as the other companies in the fight; and the right wing, under colonel lawrence, was kept back by a variety of impediments, and had no opportunity of playing the same distinguished part as the left. as soon as the line of the light division came up to the rifles, the latter were ordered to retire, and re-form in rear of the brigades; but some few of the men could not obey the order, and were consequently in front along with the advance--some with the guards, others with the men of codrington's brigade. captain the hon. w. colville and lieutenant nixon both claim, or claimed, the credit of having led up their men skirmishing in front of the advance of the red soldiers; and the question is one which i cannot decide. both those gallant officers arrogated to themselves the honour of having performed the same action; and i believe each thought that he had, when one of the colonels of the guards was dismounted, brought a horse to the officer, and enabled him to resume his place with his men. [sidenote: a day to be remembered.] the approach of the light division--why should i not dwell fondly on every act of that gallant body, the first "put at" everything, the first in buffering, in daring, in endurance throughout the campaign?--their approach, then, was in double columns of brigades; the second division being on their right, and the second battalion of the rifle brigade, divided into two wings, one under major norcott, the other under colonel lawrence, being in advance in skirmishing order. when the light division got within long range, they deployed; the men lay down. again they advanced; once more they were halted to lie down; this time the shot pitched among them; the same thing was repeated again ere they reached the river, and many were wounded before they got to the vineyards. here, indeed, they were sheltered, but when the order was given to advance, the men were thrown into disorder, not so much by the heavy fire as by the obstacles opposed by hedges, stone walls, vines, and trees. these well-drilled regiments were thus deprived of the fruits of many a day's hard marching at gallipoli, aladyn, and devna; but the st brigade being in rather better ground and more in hand than the nd brigade, moved off, and with them the th regiment, belonging to brigadier buller, who was lost in a hollow, and afterwards, as lord raglan euphemistically expressed it, manoeuvred judiciously on the left. the th, th, rd, and rd were led at a run right to the river, gallantly conducted by codrington. their course was marked by killed and wounded, but the four regiments were quickly under the shelter of the high bank at the south side, in such a state of confusion from the temporary commingling of the men in the rush, that it was necessary to re-form. the enemy, too late to support their skirmishers, sought to overwhelm them in the stream, and three battalions of grey-coated infantry came down at the double almost to the top of the bank, and poured down a heavy fire. they were straggling, but not weak; the brigade and the th made a simultaneous rush up the bank, and, as they crowned it, met their enemies with a furious fire. the dense battalions, undeployed, were smitten, and as the light division advanced they rapidly fell back to the left, for the renewed fire of their batteries, leaving, however, many dead and wounded men. after a momentary delay, these gallant regiments, led by sir george brown and brigadier codrington, advanced up the slope which was swept by the guns of the battery; grape, round, and shell tore through their ranks, and the infantry on the flanks, advancing at an angle, poured in a steady fire from point-blank distance. it must be confessed that the advance was disorderly--instead of the men being two deep and showing an extended front of fire, they were five, six, and seven deep, in ragged columns, with scarcely any front, and not half so extended as they should have been. thus their fire was not as powerful or their advance as imposing as it ought to have been. the general and brigadier made some attempts to restore order, but they were unsuccessful. the men had not only got into confusion in the river from stopping to drink, as i have related, but had disordered their ranks by attacks on the grapes in the vineyards on their way. behind the work, on rising ground, a russian regiment kept up a most destructive file fire on our advance; the field-pieces on the flank also played incessantly upon them. every foot they advanced was marked by lines of slain or wounded men. the th fusiliers, smitten by a storm of grape, reeling to and fro like some brave ship battling with a tempest, whose sails are gone, whose masts are toppling, and whose bulwarks are broken to pieces, but which still holds on its desperate way, impelled by unquenchable fire, within a few seconds lost a third of its men. led by "old yea," it still went on--a colour lost for the time, their officers down, their files falling fast--they closed up, and still with eye which never left the foe, pressed on to meet him. the rd regiment was, however, exposed more, if that were possible, to that lethal hail. in less than two minutes from the time they crowned the bank till they neared the battery the storm had smitten down twelve of their officers, of whom eight never rose again. diminished by one-half, the gallant companies sought, with unabated heart, to reach their terrible enemies. the th marched right up towards the mouths of the roaring cannon which opened incessantly and swept down their ranks; the rd, which had moved up with the greatest audacity over broken ground towards the flank of the epaulement, where it was exposed to a tremendous fire and heavy losses from guns and musketry from the hill above, was for the moment checked by the pitiless pelting of this iron rain. their general at this terrible crisis seemed to have but one idea--right or wrong, it was to lead them slap at the battery, into the very teeth of its hot and fiery jaws. as he rode in front, shouting and cheering on his men, his horse fell, and down he went in a cloud of dust. he was soon up, and called out, "i'm all right. twenty-third, be sure i'll remember this day." it was indeed a day for any one to remember. general codrington in the most gallant manner rode in advance of his brigade, and rode his horse right over and into the work, as if to show his men there was nothing to fear; for by this time the enemy, intimidated by the rapid, though tumultuous advance of the brigade, were falling away from the flanks of the battery, and were perceptibly wavering in their centre. the infantry behind the breastwork were retreating up the hill. the russians were in great dismay and confusion. they limbered up their guns, which were endangered by the retirement of their infantry from the flanks of the epaulement, and retired towards their reserves, which were posted on high ground in the rear. in this retrograde movement their artillery got among the columns of the infantry, and increased the irregular nature of their retreat; but they still continued to fire, and were at least three times as numerous as the men of the light division who were assailing them. when sir george brown went down, a rifleman, named hugh hannan, assisted him on his horse, and as they stood under a murderous fire, saluted as he got into his seat, and said, "are your stirrups the right length, sir?" major norcott, on his old charger, which, riddled with balls, carried his master throughout the day, and lay down and died when his work was over, got up to the redoubt, which was also entered by brown and codrington. (the reserve artillery horses had succeeded in drawing away all the guns except one, which was still in position, and on this gun, when the first rush was made, an officer of the rd, named donovan, scratched his name.) in broken groups the rd, with whom were mingled men of the th and rd regiments, rushed at the earthwork, leaped across it, bayoneted a few russians who offered resistance, and for an instant were masters of the position. captain bell, of the rd, observed a driver in vain urging by whip and spar two black horses to carry off one of the brass sixteen-pounder guns which had done so much execution. bell ran up, and, seizing the reins, held a revolver to his head. he dismounted, and ran off. bell, with the assistance of a soldier of the th, named pyle, led the horses round the shoulder of the parapet to the rear of our line, where the gun remained after the light division was obliged to retire, and reported the capture to sir george brown. the horses were put into our "black battery." this was but an episode. the colours of the rd were planted on the centre of the parapet. both the colour-officers, butler and anstruther, were killed. the colours were hit in seventy-five places, and the pole of one was shot in two; it had to be spliced. meantime, the russians, seeing what a handful of men they had to deal with, gained heart. the brigade and the th had held the entrenchment for nearly ten minutes, keeping the massive columns above them in check by their desperate but scattered fire. where were the supports? they were not to be seen. the advance of the guards, though magnificent, was somewhat slow. two of the dark-grey masses, bristling with steel on our front, began to move towards the battery. the men fired, but some staff-officer or officers called out that we were firing upon the french. a bugler sounded the "cease firing." the russians advanced, and our men were compelled to fall back. some of the enemy, advancing from the epaulement, proceeded in pursuit, but were checked by the apparition of the guards. [sidenote: forming a square.] the duke of cambridge, who commanded the first division, had never seen a shot fired in anger. of his brigadiers, only sir colin campbell--a soldier trained in many a stubborn fight, and nursed in the field--was acquainted with actual warfare; but it is nevertheless the case that the deciding move of the day on our left was made by his royal highness, and that the duke, who was only considered to be a cavalry officer, showed then, as on a subsequent tremendous day, that he had the qualities of a brave and energetic leader. when the last halt took place, the guards and highlanders lay down a good deal to the rear of the light division, which they were to support; and in the advance immediately afterwards, the brigade of guards, being on the left behind codrington's brigade, lost several men ere they reached the river by the fire directed on those regiments. between them and the river the ground was much broken, and intersected by walls and the hedges of vineyards; but on their left, opposite the highlanders, the ground was more favourable. the men wearing their bearskins--more ponderous and more heavily weighted than the men of the line--suffered much from thirst and the heat of the day, and they displayed an evident inclination to glean in the vineyards after the soldiers of the light division; but the duke led them on with such rapidity that they could not leave their ranks, and the officers and sergeants kept them in most admirable order till they came to the wall, in leaping over which they were of course a little disorganized. on crossing it they were exposed to a heavier fire, and by the time they reached the river the light division were advancing up the slope against the enemy's guns. the bank of the stream in front was deep and rugged, but the duke and his staff crossed it gallantly; and placing himself in front of the guards on the left--sir colin campbell being near him at the head of his brigade, and general bentinck being on his right--his royal highness led his division into action. on reaching the other side of the river the guards got into another large vineyard, the same in which the rifles had been stationed for a time, and it became very difficult to get them into line again, for they had of course been disordered in passing through the river. the guards threw out their sergeants in front, as if on parade, and dressed up in line, protected in some degree from fire as they did so by the ridge in front of them, and sir colin campbell formed up his highlanders on their left, as if they were "ruled" by machinery. it was time they were ready for action, for at this moment the light division was observed to be falling back towards them in disorder, and the russians, encouraged by the partial success, but taught by their short experience that it would be rather dangerous to come too near them, were slowly advancing after them, and endeavouring to get positions for the guns; in fact, it was probable that in a few minutes more they would run them into the epaulement once more. in front of the nd highlanders was the th regiment halted, and doing nothing; and colonel cameron, who was astonished to find them in such a position, was obliged to move out of his course a little in order to pass them. as we thus come on this gallant regiment, it may be as well to say how they came here. as the th were about to advance from the river, having their right on the th and their left on the th, an aide-de-camp--i believe the hon. mr. clifford--came down in haste from sir george brown, with the words "cavalry! form square! form square!" and the right, accordingly, in some haste corresponding with the order, which was almost at the moment reiterated by brigadier buller, prepared to execute the movement, but the whole of the companies did not join in it, the men who were excluded, and an officer and some few of the rifles, struggled to obtain admission into the square, which was for some moments in a very ineffective state, and scarcely ready to receive any determined charge of cavalry. the apprehensions, however, which were entertained by a few short-sighted people were unfounded. the enemy had made no demonstration with the cavalry. they had advanced a demi-battery of artillery towards the left flank of the nd brigade, and supported the advance with a body of infantry in spiked helmets. sir george brown, whose sight was not good though he would not wear spectacles, and general buller, whose vision was not good although he did wear spectacles, were deceived by the appearance of this force, and sent orders to form square. it was fortunate the russian guns did not fire upon the th; just as they unlimbered codrington's brigade began to advance on the right, and the rifles, part of the th, and the th, who, as they crossed the river, and endeavoured to re-form under the bank, were menaced by a column of russians firing on the gunners, forced them to retire higher up the hill. had the artillery held their ground, they could have inflicted great loss upon us, and seriously interfered with our advance on the right; but on this, as on other occasions, the russians were too nervous for their guns, and withdrew them. in this general movement the th and th regiments did not participate. there was not in the army a more gallant or better disciplined regiment than the th. colonel egerton was not only one of the bravest but one of the most intelligent, skilled, and thorough soldiers and officers in the whole service. in the trenches--at inkerman--throughout the siege, the regiment showed of what noble material it was composed. the th had a fighting reputation, which they well vindicated at inkerman, at the quarries, and in many encounters with the enemy. it is astonishing, therefore, that the light division should have been in a vital moment deprived of the co-operation of these splendid soldiers, and should have been, hurled in confused masses against the enemy's bayonets and artillery, reduced by the suicidal incapacity of some one or other to four regiments. that there was no notion of keeping these regiments in reserve is shown by the fact that they were never advanced in support or used as a reserve when their comrades were involved in a most perilous and unequal struggle. the first division advancing, and passing this portion of the light division, at once became exposed to fire, and received the shot which passed through the fragments of codrington's brigade; but as it was imperatively necessary that they should not be marched up in rear of regiments in a state of disorder, the duke, by the advice of sir colin campbell, ordered general bentinck to move a little to his left, but ere the movement could be effected, portions of the light division came in contact with the centre of the line, and passing through its files to re-open in the rear, carried disorder into the centre battalion. it may be observed that this is a casualty to which extended line formations in support must always be liable, when the attacking lines in advance of them are obliged to fall back to re-form. formations in column are of course less likely to be subjected to this inconvenience, and the broken troops can pour through the intervals between column and column with greater facility than they can pass round the flanks of lengthy and extended lines. the coldstreams and the grenadiers never for an instant lost their beautiful regularity and order, although they now fell fast under the enemy's fire, and several of the mounted officers lost their horses. among these major macdonald was included, his horse was killed by a round shot, and he received a severe fall, but never for a moment lost his coolness and equanimity. [sidenote: a march over the dead.] as the light division retreated behind the guards to re-form, the russian battalions on the flanks and behind the work fired on them, continuously, and at the same moment the guns which had been drawn out of the work to the high ground over it opened heavily. the guards were struck in the centre by this iron shower. the fragments of codrington's brigade poured through them. in their front was a steel-bound wall of russian infantry. our own men were fast falling back, firing as they retired. after them came a glistening line of russian bayonets, as if to clear the field. for a few seconds the scots fusiliers wavered and lost order; they were marching over dead and dying men. the russians were within a few yards of them, but the officers rallied the men, and, conspicuous in their efforts, suffered heavily. the colour-bearers, lieutenant lindsay and lieutenant thistlewayte, with signal gallantry, extricated themselves from a perilous position, in which for the instant their men had left them--order was restored in the centre, and on the flanks the grenadiers, under colonel hood, and coldstreams were as steady and in as perfect order as though they were on parade. for a moment, it is said, the duke thought of halting to dress his line, but sir colin campbell, who was near at hand with his highlanders, begged his highness not to hesitate, but to push on at once at the enemy. the russian artillery on the slopes above sent repeated volleys of grape, canister, round, and shell through their ranks, but at this moment, threatened on the flank by the french batteries, enfiladed by a -pounder and -pound howitzer of turner's battery, which lord raglan had ordered up to a knoll on the opposite side of the river, on the slope between our attack and that of the french, the russian guns were limbered up, and ceased their fire. meantime general sir de lacy evans had, in the most skilful and gallant manner, executed his instructions, and, with pennefather's brigade, had forced the russian centre and the right centre. the second division advanced on the same alignement with prince napoleon's division to the burning village of bourliouk. sir de lacy evans detached the st and the th regiments, of adams's brigade and turner's battery, by the right of the village, which the flames rendered impenetrable, and ordered them to force the passage. the ford in front was very deep, and the banks were bad and high, defended by a heavy fire; the regiments lost upwards of men in the stream and on its banks. the general placed himself at the head of the remaining regiments, and led them by the left of the village towards the river; but, experienced in war, sir de lacy evans availed himself of all means to carry the enemy's position with the smallest loss to his own men; he covered the advance of his troops by the fire of pieces. pennefather's brigade, the th, th, and th regiments, was accompanied by fitzmayer's battery; but the general, finding dacre's battery and wodehouse's battery, which belonged to the first and light divisions, stationed near, availed himself of the services volunteered by the officers in command of them to cover the advance of his men. the th regiment, being on the extreme left of the brigade, came upon the bridge of bourliouk; the th regiment, in the centre, had in front of them a deep ford and high banks; and the th regiment were inconvenienced in their advance by the walls of the village, and by the cooking places cut in the high banks on the opposite side of the stream. on the right of the th regiment came the th regiment, and in the interval between these two regiments rode sir de lacy evans. as soon as the division emerged from the smoke and the houses of the village, the enemy directed on them an extremely severe fire--"such," says sir de lacy evans, "as few, perhaps, of the most experienced soldiers have ever witnessed," till they came to the stream, which they passed under a storm of missiles which lashed the waters into bloody foam. the th, led very gallantly by colonel webber smith, debouched from the bridge and narrow ford just as the th, under colonel yea, formed on the other side. they were exposed to the same tremendous fire; they advanced, with colours flying, towards the left of the russian epaulement, which codrington was assailing, and claim the credit of having been the temporary captors of a gun on the left of the works. the th and th, led by colonel warren and colonel hoey, exposed to the full fire of two batteries and of six battalions disposed on the sides of the ravines and of the slopes above them, behaved with conspicuous gallantry, but could make no impression on the solid masses of the enemy. in a short time the th lost officers killed, the colonel and major and officers wounded, and upwards of men. the th had casualties, of which occurred to officers, and of which were fatal; the th regiment lost officers and men. [sidenote: difficulties of gaining intelligence during battle.] but the steadiness of our infantry and the destructive effect of their musketry were shaking the confidence of the enemy, now broken and turned on their left by the french. the light division was obliged to relinquish its hold of the work it had taken; but the guards were advancing to their support--the highlanders were moving up on the left--and the fortune of the day was every moment inclining to the allies. the french had sent to lord raglan for assistance, some say twice--certainly once, before we advanced. our attack was not to begin till they had turned the left, and it is likely that m. st. arnaud arranged to send information of that fact to lord raglan. but our commander-in-chief did not receive any such intelligence. he was annoyed, uneasy, and disappointed at the delay which occurred on his right. he sent colonel vico to ascertain the state of affairs, to communicate, if possible, with the french generals. meantime, the french generals were, if we credit authorities, annoyed, uneasy, and disappointed by the slowness of the english. prince napoleon sent to lord raglan, french staff-officers came with the piteous appeal--_milord, je vous prie! pour l'amour de dieu! venez aux français! nous sommes massacrés!_ at last lord raglan gave orders to advance, although he had not heard of the success of the french attack on which the advance was to depend. when the st and rd divisions had deployed, and were moving towards the alma, lord raglan, and his staff advanced, and skirting the village of bourliouk to the right, passed down a narrow lane which led to the ford, by which part of adams's brigade had crossed to the other side. they proceeded round the right of adams's brigade, immediately between the french and evans's extreme right, and _en route_, his lordship observed turner's battery, and passed close to the st and th on the other side of the river, for whose disposition he gave orders to brigadier adams. in crossing the ford the staff were exposed to fire from the russian guns on the high grounds opposite bourliouk, and the infantry in support. two of the staff-officers were hit--lieutenant leslie, royal horse guards, who was acting as orderly officer to the commander-in-chief, and captain weare, deputy-assistant adjutant-general. lord raglan gave orders for turner's battery to come up to enfilade the enemy's guns. the lane, which formed at the other side of the ford the continuation of that road by which the commander-in-chief had passed round bourliouk to the river, ran at the bottom of a sheltered ravine, which almost divided the russian position, and formed a boundary between the english and the french attacks. the enemy had been driven out of this ravine by the french, and the lane was unoccupied, but here and there in its windings it was swept by guns. the ravine, as it ascended, opened out, and became shallower, and on the right it wound below a small table-land, or rather a flattened knoll, of which there were several at the edge of the general level of the plateau. on ascending this knoll, lord raglan saw, as he anticipated, that the russian guns commanding the ford were on his left, in such a position that they could be enfiladed, and indeed, taken in reverse. he despatched repeated orders to turner; but owing to the steepness of the lane, and to the loss of a gun horse in the river, there was difficulty and delay in getting the guns up, and when they did arrive the guards and highlanders were already advancing up the hill, and closing on the russian columns. the guns[ ] which came up were, i believe, a -pounder howitzer, and a -pounder, and as the tumbril attached to the former had not arrived, it was served with -pounder ammunition and round shot. the artillery officers and general strangways dismounted and worked the guns, as the men had not yet come up; lieutenant walsham arrived with the rest of the battery, and the six guns opened--on what? one officer says, on the "artillery" of the russians--that two shots forced a whole line of russian guns to retire, and that the russian general, "seeing he was taken in flank," limbered up. but surely he could have turned round some of his numerous guns, and could have fought turner's two with heavier metal. in fact, it was something else besides this fire of two shots (one of which hit a tumbril) which determined the retreat of the russian artillery. it was the advance of the first and second divisions. the guards were half-way up the hill when these two guns opened, and the russians limbered up when they saw they were turned on their left, and threatened on their right. the russian artillery officer, after he retired, directed his guns against turner's battery, and some riflemen were sent to cripple it, one of whom shot lieutenant walsham as he was in the act of loading. lord raglan saw the day was won by the light division, the second division, the guards, and highlanders; for, seeing the advance of the latter, he exclaimed, "let us join the guards!" and rode into the ravine to his left in their direction. but the enemy had not yet abandoned their position. a division of infantry in columns came from the rear of the hill, and marched straight upon the brigade of guards. the guards dressed up, and advanced to meet them. some shot struck the rear of the russian columns, they began to melt away, and wavered; still they came on slowly, and began file-firing. one column moved towards the left flank of the guards, facing round as if to meet the highlanders, who were moving with rapidity up from the hollow in which they had been sheltered from the enemy's fire. the two other columns faced the guards. the distance between them was rapidly diminishing, when suddenly the brigade poured in a fire so destructive that it annihilated their front ranks, and left a ridge of killed and wounded men on the ground. the highlanders almost at the same moment delivered a volley, sharp, deadly, and decisive. pennefather's brigade, on the right of the guards, supported by adams, appeared on the side of the slope. the enemy, after a vain attempt to shake off the panic occasioned by that rain of death, renewed their fire very feebly, and then, without waiting, turned as our men advanced with bayonets at the charge, over the brow of the hill to join the mass of the russian army, who, divided into two bodies, were retreating with all possible speed. our cavalry rode up to the crest of the hill, and looked after the enemy. they took a few prisoners, but they were ordered to let them go again. lord raglan expressed his intention of keeping his cavalry "in a bandbox," and was apprehensive of getting into serious difficulty with the enemy. the battle of the alma was won. the men halted on the battle-field, and as the commander-in-chief, the duke of cambridge, sir de lacy evans, and the other popular generals rode in front of the line, the soldiers shouted, and when lord raglan was in front of the guards, the whole army burst into a tremendous cheer, which made one's heart leap--the effect of that cheer can never be forgotten by those who heard it. it was near five o'clock; the men had been eleven hours under arms, and had fought a battle, and the enemy were to be--"let alone." the russians fired one gun as they retreated, and made some show of covering their rear with their cavalry. [sidenote: tactics of the battle of the alma.] upon the conduct of the battle of the alma there has been much foreign criticism, and the results and deductions have been unfavourable to the russian general, who permitted his left to be turned without any serious resistance, although he ought to have calculated on the effect of the operations by sea on that flank. in apparent opposition to this judgment there has been at the same time great praise awarded to the french for the gallantry with which they attacked that portion of the position. they deserve every laudation for the extraordinary activity, rapidity, and bravery with which they established themselves on the centre and left-centre, but on the extreme left they had no hard fighting. the english seem to have been awarded the meed of solidity and unshaken courage, but at the same time hints are thrown out that they did not move quite quickly enough, that therefore their losses were great, and their work after all not so hazardous and difficult as that of the french, inasmuch as the english attack took place only when the russian left was turned. in effect, however, the right of the enemy presented less physical difficulties to the establishment of a hostile force on the flank, and it was there that the greatest number of artificial obstacles in the shape of guns, cavalry, and men, was accumulated. but was the plan of battle good? in the first place, we attacked the enemy in the position of his own selection, without the least attempt to manoeuvre or to turn him. it might have been difficult, situated as we were, without cavalry, and with masses of baggage, to have attempted any complex manoeuvres; but it has been asserted that by a flank march we could, by a temporary abandonment of our seaboard, have placed the enemy between two fires, and have destroyed his army in case of defeat. it has been suggested that early on the morning of the th the allies should have moved obliquely from the bivouac on the bouljanak, and, crossing the alma to the east of the enemy's position, have obliged his left to make a harassing march, to get up and occupy new ground in a fresh alignement, have deprived him of his advantages, and have endangered his retreat to bakshi serai or simpheropol, if he refused battle, and that in event of his defeat, which would have been pretty certain, considering how much weaker his new line would have been, he would have been driven towards the shore, exposed to the fire of our ships, so that his force would have been obliged to lay down their arms. menschikoff's army utterly ruined, sebastopol would have at once surrendered, disposed as it was to have done so with very little compression. criticism is easy after the circumstances or conduct of which you judge have had their effect; but to this it may be remarked that criticism cannot, by its very nature, be prospective. even civilians are as good judges as military men of the grand operations of war, although they may be ignorant of details, and of the modes by which those operations have been effected. alexander, cæsar, pompey, hannibal, may have had many club colonels in their day, who thought they made "fatal moves;" we know that in our own time there were many military men who "had no great opinion" of either general wellesley or general bonaparte; but the results carry with them the weight of an irreversible verdict, which is accepted by posterity long after the cliques and jealousies and animosities of the hour have passed away for ever. now, without being a member of a clique, having no possible jealousies, and being free from the smallest animosities, i may inquire was there any generalship shown by any of the allied generals at the alma? we have lord raglan, as brave, as calm, as noble, as any gentleman who ever owned england as his mother-land--trotting in front of his army, amid a shower of balls, "just as if he were riding down rotten row," with a kind nod for every one, leaving his generals and men to fight it out as best they could, riding across the stream through the french riflemen, not knowing where he was going to, or where the enemy were, till fate led him to a little knoll, from which he saw some of the russian guns on his flank, whereupon he sent an order for guns, seemed surprised that they could not be dragged across a stream, and up a hill which presented difficulties to an unencumbered horseman--then, cantering over to join the guards ere they made their charge, and finding it over while he was in a hollow of the ground. as to the mode in which the attack was carried on by us, there was immense gallantry, devotion, and courage, and, according to military men present, no small amount of disorder. the light division was strangely handled. sir george brown, whose sight was so indifferent that he had to get one of his officers to lead his horse across the river, seemed not to know where his division was, and permitted brigadier buller to march off with two regiments of his brigade, leaving the third to join codrington's brigade. the men got huddled together on the other side of the river under the ridge, and lay there seven or eight instead of two deep, so that when they rose and delivered fire, their front was small, and the effect diminished. then they were led straight up at the guns in a confused mass; when they had got into the battery they were left without supports, so that the enemy forced them to relinquish their hold, and were enabled to recover the work. the light division had, it is true, drawn the teeth of the battery, but still the enemy were able to fire over the heads of the columns from the hill above. however, the alma was won. menschikoff was in retreat, and the world was all before us on the evening of the th of september. whether our generals had any foresight of what that world was to be--what were to be the fruits of victory, or the chances of disaster--let the history of the war on some future day communicate to the world. the russians were very much dissatisfied with the result of this battle. they put forth the rawness of the troops, their inferiority in numbers, and many other matters; they criticised severely the conduct of their generals during the action, and the disposition of the troops on the ground; but, after all, their position ought to have been impregnable, if defended by determined infantry. the force under the orders of prince menschikoff was composed as follows:-- [sidenote: the russian forces.] battalions. guns. the st brigade of the th division of the th army corps, } consisting of regiment no. volhynia, and regiment no. } minsk, with no. battery of position, and no. light } battery } the th division th army corps, consisting of the regiments } st vladimir, nd sudalski, st (light) uglilski, nd } (light) kazan, with the th brigade of artillery, no. and} no. light batteries, and no. battery of position } the nd brigade of the th division, with the regiment of } moscow, the th brigade of artillery, no. and no. } light batteries, and no. battery of position } reserve battalions of the th the rifle and sapper battalions of the th corps battalions of sailors, with guns ------------ cavalry. squadrons. guns. nd brigade of th cavalry division, regiments, each of } squadrons } sotnias of cossacks, or regiment of squadrons no. light battery of horse artillery no. cossack battery ------------ total--infantry, between , and , cavalry, about , . the russians have given the following account of their own position and of some incidents of the action:-- the centre of their position lay on the high slopes of the left bank of the river, opposite the village of bourliouk; the left on the still higher and less accessible hills, with perpendicularly scarped sides, which rise from the river near the sea; the right wing on the gentle ascents into which this rising ground subsides about half a mile eastward of the village. the reserves, which were posted behind the centre, consisted of the regiments of volhynia, minsk, and moscow, the two former of which subsequently took an active part in the siege, and were the principal workmen and combatants in constructing and occupying the famous "white works" on the right of our position before sebastopol. on their right flank were two regiments of hussars and two field batteries; in the rear of the right wing was stationed a regiment of riflemen. oddly enough, the russian general sent off a battalion of the moscow regiment to occupy the village of ulukul akles, several miles in the rear of his left wing, as if to prevent a descent behind him from the sea. [sidenote: a difference of opinion.] the disposition of this force will be seen on reference to the plan which accompanies the description of the battle of the alma. the right was commanded by lieutenant-general knetsinsky, of the th division; the centre by prince gortschakoff i.; the left by lieutenant-general kiriakoff, commander of the th division; and prince menschikoff took the control of the whole, being generally on the left of the centre, near the telegraph station. when the allies came in sight, the rifle battalion, about strong, crossed to the right bank of the river, and occupied the village of bourliouk and the vineyards near it, and the regiments in front advanced their skirmishers to the left bank, and menschikoff rode along the front from the right to the left of the line to animate the men, most of whom had been present at a mass to the virgin early in the morning, when prayers were offered for her aid against the enemy. our advance seemed to the russians rather slow; but at last, at about . , the allies came within range, and a sharp fusilade commenced between the skirmishers and riflemen. about . the steamers outside began to fire on the russian left, and forced the regiments of minsk and moscow to retire with loss, and killed some horses and men of the light battery stationed on their flank. their shells struck down four officers of menschikoff's staff later in the day, and did most effective service in shaking the confidence of the enemy, and in searching out their battalions so as to prevent their advance towards the seaboard. as the allies advanced, the cossacks, according to orders, set fire to the haystacks in the tartar village, which soon caught, and poured out a mass of black smoke, mingled with showers of sparks. the guns of the allies, from the right of the village, now began to play on the enemy, and caused so much loss in the four reserve battalions under general oslonovich, that they, being young soldiers, began to retire of their own accord. at the same time the french gained the heights, driving back and destroying the nd battalion of the moscow regiment, and holding their ground against the minsk regiment, the st, rd, and th battalions of the moscow regiment, and a numerous artillery, which arrived too late to wrest the heights from their grasp till the demonstration in the centre rendered their position certain and secure. general kiriakoff, who commanded the left wing, seems to have been utterly bewildered, and to have acted with great imbecility, and want of decision and judgment. the russians with whom i have conversed have assured me that he gave no orders, left every officer to do as he liked, and retired from the field, or at least disappeared from their view, very early in the fight. as the reserve battalions retired, the battalion of the taioutine regiment, which was placed in a ravine in front of the river, withdrew as soon as it got under fire, and left a very important part of the position undefended. the kazan and ouglitsky regiments, defending the epaulement in which the guns were placed, suffered severely from the fire of the english riflemen, and the two battalions of the borodino regiment, which advanced towards the river to fire on our men as they crossed the ford, were driven back with great slaughter by the continuous flight of minié bullets. as pennefather's brigade advanced, two battalions of the vladimir regiment, deploying into columns of battalions, charged them with the bayonet, but were checked by our murderous fire, and only a few men were killed and wounded in the encounter between the foremost ranks, which were much broken and confused for a few moments. the advance of the french obliquely from the right, and the success of the english on the left, threatening to envelope the whole of the enemy, they began to retreat in tolerable order; but the english and french guns soon began to open a cross fire on them, and their march became less regular. a russian officer, who has written an account of the action, relates that prince menschikoff, as he rode past his regiment, then marching off the ground as fast as it could under our fire, said, "it's a disgrace for a russian soldier to retreat;" whereupon one of the officers exclaimed, "if you had ordered us, we would have stood our ground." it would appear that, on arriving at the heights of the katcha, part of the russian army halted for a short time, and took up their position in order of battle, in case the allies followed. as to the propriety of such a movement on our part by a portion of our army, under the circumstances, there may be some difference of opinion. as to the pursuit of the enemy on the spot by all the allied forces there can be no diversity of sentiment; but as to the proposition which lord raglan's friends declare he made, to continue the pursuit with our , cavalry, some artillery, and no infantry, it seems scarcely possible that it was made in seriousness. the enemy, defeated though they were, mustered nearly , men, of whom , were cavalry, and they had with them guns. in their rear there was a most formidable position, protected by a river of greater depth and with deeper banks than the alma. it was getting dark--no one knew the country--the troops were exhausted by a day's marching and manoeuvring under a hot sun--and yet it is said that, under these circumstances, lord raglan proposed a pursuit by the portion of the french who had not been engaged, by the turkish division, and by part of our cavalry, and a hypothetical two or three batteries. most military men will, if that assertion be substantiated, probably think less of his lordship's military capacity than ever they did before. the grounds on which m. st. arnaud is stated to have declined acceding to the wishes of lord raglan are these--that he could send no infantry, and that his artillery had exhausted their ammunition. now, unquestionably st. arnaud was quite as anxious as any one could be to complete his victory, and continue the pursuit of the enemy; and in his three despatches respecting the battle he laments repeatedly his inability, from want of cavalry, to turn the retreat of the russians into a rout. it is also true that the artillery of the french had exhausted their ammunition; but let us calmly examine the means at the disposal of the two generals to effect an operation of a most difficult and serious kind, which is said to have been suggested by the one and rejected by the other. the english army present at the alma, in round numbers as stated in the official returns, consisted of , men; the french, of , ; the turks, of , men. of the english were engaged with such loss as would incapacitate the regiments from action--the guards, the th, th, rd, th, rd, th, th, th, one wing of nd battalion rifle brigade. there remained in just as good order for marching as any of the french regiments-- st battalion of the royals, th, th, th, st, st battalion rifle brigade, th, th, th, th, th, th, th, nd-- battalions--and the cavalry; and according to the french accounts all their divisions were more or less engaged, with the exception of part of forey's. the staff-officer admits we had , men who had not taken a part in the action; but then he adds that these , men were "not in fact more than sufficient for the immediate necessities of the camp." now, as the french force was nearly equal to ours, the necessities of their camp would be nearly equal to ours also. he avers they had " , men who had never been engaged." be it so. but deduct , men required for "the immediate necessities of the camp," and you will have a disposable force of , men, who, with a force of turks (supposed to have no camp at all, and therefore to have none of the english or french necessities for eating or drinking or camping), were, according to lord raglan's staff-officer, to start off at four o'clock on a september evening to chase an army of , cavalry and infantry, and guns! that is really the most preposterous attempt to vindicate lord raglan's generalship that has ever been given to the world. his lordship never says a word in his published despatches to corroborate those confidential communications, and it is to be hoped that they illustrate some of "the many opinions and motives ascribed to lord raglan which the field-marshal never entertained," to which the writer refers. next day st. arnaud wished to advance and follow the enemy, but lord raglan would not listen to it, as he had , wounded english and russians to move. that is, if the , turks and french, and a few field batteries, had come up with and beaten the russians, lord raglan would have permitted them to pursue their career of victory without support, and to do as they pleased; and if they were beaten and allowed to fall back, he would leave their wounded in the hands of the enemy, or spend still more time in burying them. but the worst of all is that, after losing two days, the english wounded were nearly all on board ship by the afternoon of the st--in spite of the marshal's protest we were obliged to leave upwards of wounded russians on the ground, with one surgeon and one servant to wait upon them. the enemy halted at the katcha till after midnight, crossing it at aranchi, and fell back towards sebastopol, on the north side of which a portion of the troops arrived by o'clock on the following afternoon. their loss was, as stated in the official accounts, , killed, , wounded, contused. two generals prisoners. generals kvitzinsky, schelkanoff, goginoff, kourtianoff, wounded. every one of the enemy had a loaf of black bread, and a linen roll containing coarse broken biscuit or hard bread like oil cake. though some of the troops had been at the alma for a couple of days, no bones were found about the ground. the ground was in a most filthy state. after battle came removal of wounded and the burial of the dead. the russian dead were all buried together in pits, and were carried down to their graves as they lay. our parties on the st and nd buried , men. the british soldiers were buried in pits. their firelocks, and the useful portions of their military equipment, were alone preserved. [sidenote: humane barbarity.] the quantity of firelocks, great coats, bearskin caps, shakos, helmets and flat forage caps, knapsacks (english and russian), belts, bayonets, cartouch-boxes, cartridges, swords, exceeded belief; and round shot, fragments of shell smeared with blood and hair, grape and bullets, were under the foot and eye at every step. our men broke the enemies' firelocks and rifles which lay on the ground. as many of them were loaded, the concussion set them off, so that dropping shot never ceased for about forty hours. the russian musket was a good weapon to look at, but rather a bad one to use. the barrel, which was longer than ours, and was polished, was secured to the stock by brass straps, like the french. the lock was, however, tolerably good. the stock was of the old narrow oriental pattern, and the wood of which it was made--white-grained and something like sycamore, broke easily. from the form of the heel of the stock, the "kick" of the musket must have been sharp with a good charge. many had been originally flint-locked, but were changed to detonators by screwing in nipples and plugging up the touch-holes with steel screws. the cartridges were beautifully made and finished, the balls being strongly gummed in at the end, but the powder was coarse and unglazed, and looked like millet-seed; it was, however, clean in the hand, and burnt very smartly. the rifles were two-grooved, and projected a long conical ball. the ball was flat at the base, and had neither hollow cup nor pin; its weight must exceed that of our minié ball. these rifles were made by j. p. malherbe, of liège. the bayonets were soft and bent easily. some good swords belonging to officers were picked up, and weapons, probably belonging to drummers or bandsmen, exactly like the old roman sword, very sharp and heavy. some six or seven drums were left behind, but nearly all of them were broken--several by the shot which killed their owners. no ensign, eagle, standard, or colour of any kind was displayed by the enemy or found on the field. our regiments marched with their colours, as a matter of course, and the enemy made the latter a special mark for the rifles. thus it was so many ensigns, lieutenants, and sergeants fell. the sad duty of burying the dead was completed on the nd. the wounded were collected and sent on board ship in arabas and litters, and the surgeons with humane barbarity were employed night and day in saving life. in the light division there were nearly , cases for surgical attendance and operations, at which drs. alexander and tice were busily employed. dr. gordon was active in the second division in the same work. there was more than an acre of russian wounded when they were brought and disposed on the ground. some of the prisoners told us they belonged to the army of moldavia, and had only arrived in the crimea twelve or fourteen days before the battle. if that were so, the expedition might have achieved enormous results at little cost, had it arrived three weeks earlier. all the russian firelocks, knapsacks, bayonets, cartridge-boxes, &c., were collected together, near lord raglan's tent, and formed heaps about twenty yards long by ten yards broad. our men were sent to the sea, three miles distant, on jolting arabas or tedious litters. the french had well-appointed covered hospital vans, to hold ten or twelve men, drawn by mules, and their wounded were sent in much greater comfort than our poor fellows. the beach was lined with boats carrying off the wounded. commander powell, of the _vesuvius_, as beachmaster was indefatigable in his exertions. some poor fellows died on their way to the sea. not only the wounded but the sick were sent on board the fleet. as a sanatorium alone, the value of the floating batteries of our friends the sailors was beyond all price. the russian officers who were wounded, and all prisoners of rank, were likewise sent on board. we had , sick on board, in addition to our wounded. the french return of , killed and wounded was understood to include those who died of cholera during the passage from varna and the march to the alma. had a couple of thousand seamen and marines been landed, they could have done all that was required, have released us from two days' fearful duty, enabled us to follow the footsteps of our flying enemy, and to have completed his signal discomfiture, and have in all probability contributed materially to the issue of the campaign. admiral dundas, however, seemed to be in apprehension of the russian fleet sallying out to attack us. brigadier-general tylden died in his tent early on the morning of the rd, of cholera. he was buried in the valley under the heights of alma. he was succeeded by lieut.-colonel alexander, r.e., who was not, however, promoted to the rank of brigadier. many men died of cholera in the night. my sleep was disturbed by the groans of the dying, and on getting up in the morning i found that the corpse of a russian lay outside the tent in which i had been permitted to rest. he was not there when we retired to rest, so that the wretched creature, who had probably been wandering about without food upon the hills ever since the battle, must have crawled down towards our fires, and there expired. late at night on the nd orders were sent round the divisions to be prepared for marching after daybreak. early on the rd we left the blood-stained heights of the alma--a name that will be ever memorable in history. soon after dawn the french assembled drums and trumpets on the top of the highest of the hills they carried, and a wild flourish and roll, repeated again and again, and broken by peals of rejoicing from the bugles of the infantry, celebrated their victory ere they departed in search of the enemy. it was spirit-stirring and thrilling music, and its effect, as it swelled through the early morning over the valley, can never be forgotten. [sidenote: left alone with the wounded.] our watch-fires were still burning languidly, as the sleepers roused themselves, and prepared to leave the scene of their triumphs. the fogs of the night crept slowly up the hill sides, and hung in uncertain folds around their summits, revealing here and there the gathering columns of our regiments in dark patches on the declivities, or showing the deep black-looking squares of the french battalions, already in motion towards the south. dimly seen in the distance, the fleet was moving along slowly by the line of the coast, the long lines of smoke trailing back on their wake. but what was that grey mass on the plain, which seemed settled down upon it almost without life or motion? now and then, indeed, an arm might be seen waved aloft, or a man raised himself for a moment, looked around, and then fell down again. alas! that plain was covered with the wounded russians. nearly sixty long hours they passed in agony upon the ground, and with but little hope of help or succour more, we were compelled to leave them. their wounds had been bound and dressed. ere our troops marched, general estcourt sent into the tartar village up the valley, into which the inhabitants were just returning, and having procured the attendance of the head men, proceeded to explain that the wounded russians would be confided to their charge, and that they were to feed and maintain them, and when they were well they were to be let go their ways. an english surgeon was left behind with these men--dr. thomson, of the th regiment. he was told his mission would be his protection in case the cossacks came, and that he was to hoist a flag of truce should the enemy appear in sight; and then, provided with rum, biscuit, and salt meat, he was left with his charge, attended by a single servant. one of the russian officers addressed the wounded, and explained the position in which they were placed; they promised to obey dr. thomson's orders, to protect him as far as they could, and to acquaint any russian force which might arrive with the peculiar circumstances under which he was among them. it was nearly eight o'clock ere the tents of head-quarters were struck, and the march began. we heard from the fleet that the enemy had not only left the katcha, but that they had even retired across the belbek. our course was directed upon the former stream, almost in continuation of our march of the th, before the battle. as we moved along, the unfinished stone building, intended by the russians for a telegraph station, came into view. the french had cut upon the entablature the simple inscription--_la bataille d'alma, septembre, _. a similar building was visible further on towards sebastopol; on reaching the top of one of the hills on our way, we could see the white lighthouse of chersonesus at the end of the promontory which juts out into the sea. the country through which we marched was undulating and barren. amidst steep hillocks covered with thistles, and separated from each other at times by small patches of steppe, or by more undulating and less hillocky ground, wound the road to sebastopol--a mere beaten track, marked with cart-wheels, hoofs, and the nails of gun-carriage wheels. we advanced uninterruptedly at an average rate of two and a quarter miles an hour, halting occasionally to rest the troops, and allow the baggage-wagons to come up. at three o'clock the beautiful valley of the katcha came in sight, formed by a ridge of hills clad with verdure and with small forests of shrubs, through which here and there shone the white walls of villas and snug cottages. the country over which we marched slid down gradually to the level of the river, whose course was marked all along the base of the hills to the stream by lines of trees, and by the most luxurious vegetation, forming a strong contrast to the barren and bleak-looking tract on which our troops advanced. lord raglan and his staff rode on considerably in advance of the troops, to the great astonishment and indignation of a prussian officer (lieut. wagman), who loudly declared such conduct was quite opposed to the rules of war. fluellen himself could not have been more angry at such disregard of martial etiquette than the gallant gentleman in question, and certainly we did show marked contempt for the enemy, and the most superb disdain of his famed cossacks. lord raglan, his aides, his generals of artillery and engineers and their staff, his quartermaster-general and his staff, his adjutant-general and his staff, sir john burgoyne and his staff, and all the staff-doctors, actually came within a few hundred yards of the shrubberies and plantations at the river, a mile in advance of even the cavalry, and were riding on towards it in the same _poco curante_ fashion, when captain chetwode and his troop of the th hussars pushed on in the front to reconnoitre. the katcha is a small and rapid rivulet, with banks like those of the alma; its course marked by neat white cottages, the most delicious vineyards and gardens, but no inhabitants were visible. wheeling over the bridge, we turned eastward towards the little village of eskel, on the left bank. the first building on the road was the imperial post-house, with its sign-post of the double-headed eagle, and an illegible inscription. the usual wooden direction-post, with a black and red riband painted round it diagonally on a white ground, informed us we were on our way to sebastopol, distant ten miles. the road now assumed the character of an english by-way in devonshire or hampshire. low walls at either side were surmounted by fruit trees laden with apples, pears, peaches and apricots, all ripe and fit for use, and at their foot clustered grapes of the most delicate flavour. the first villa we came to was the residence of a physician. it had been destroyed by the cossacks. a verandah, laden with clematis, roses, and honeysuckle in front, was filled with broken music-stools, work-tables, and lounging chairs. all the glasses of the windows were smashed. everything around betokened the hasty flight of the inmates. two or three side-saddles were lying on the grass outside the hall-door; a parasol lay near them, close to a tartar saddle and a huge whip. the wine casks were broken and the contents spilt; the barley and corn of the granary were thrown about all over the ground; broken china and glass of fine manufacture were scattered over the pavement outside the kitchen;--and amid all the desolation and ruin of the place, a cat sat blandly at the threshold, winking her eyes in the sunshine at the new comers. mirrors in fragments were lying on the floor; beds ripped open, the feathers littered the rooms a foot deep; chairs, sofas, fauteuils, bedsteads, bookcases, picture-frames, images of saints, women's needlework, chests of drawers, shoes, boots, books, bottles, physic jars, smashed or torn in pieces, lay in heaps in every room. the walls and doors were hacked with swords. the genius of destruction had been at work, and had revelled in mischief. the physician's account-book lay open on a broken table: he had been stopped in the very act of debiting a dose to some neighbour, and his entry remained unfinished. beside his account-book lay a volume of "madame de sévigné's letters" in french, and a pharmacopoeia in russian. a little bottle of prussic acid lay so invitingly near a box of bon-bons, that i knew it would be irresistible to the first hungry private who had a taste for almonds, and i accordingly poured out the contents to prevent the possible catastrophe. our men and horses were soon revelling in grapes and corn; and we pushed on to eskel, and established ourselves in a house which had belonged to a russian officer of rank. [sidenote: new quarters.] every house and villa in the place was in a similar state. the better the residence, the more complete the destruction. grand pianos, and handsome pieces of furniture, covered with silk and damasked velvet, rent to pieces, were found in more than one house. one of the instruments retained enough of its vital organs to breathe out "god save the queen" from its lacerated brass ribs, and it was made to do so accordingly, under the very eye of a rigid portrait of his imperial majesty the czar, which hung on the wall above! these portraits of the autocrat were not uncommon in the houses--nearly as common as pictures of saints with gilt and silver glories around their heads. the houses, large and small, consisted of one story only. each house stood apart, with a large patch of vineyard around it, and a garden of fruit trees, and was fenced in from the road by a stone wall and a line of poplars or elms. a porch covered with vines protected the entrance. the rooms were clean and scrupulously whitewashed. large outhouses, with wine-presses, stables, &c., complete the farmer's establishment. a deserter came in, and was taken before lord raglan. he was, however, only a tartar, but he gave such information respecting the feelings of the inhabitants towards us, that steps were at once taken to inform those who were hiding that if they returned to their homes, their lives and property would be protected. some hour or so after we had arrived at eskel, a number of bullet-headed personages, with sheepskin caps, and loose long coats and trousers, made their appearance, stealthily creeping into the houses, and eyeing the new occupants with shy curiosity. from the people who thus returned we heard that the russians had arrived at the katcha in dispirited condition the night of the battle of the alma, and had taken up their position in the villages and in the neighbouring houses. at twelve o'clock the same night they continued their march. a part of the army went towards bakschiserai. they were said to consist of about , , and to be under the command of menschikoff in person. the rest proceeded direct to sebastopol, and entered the city in disorder. the evidences of their march were found along the road, in cartridges, shakos, caps, and articles of worn-out clothing. in the house which we occupied were abundant traces of the recent visit of a military man of rank: books on strategy, in russian, lay on the floor, and a pair of handsome epaulets were found in the passage. lord raglan occupied a very pretty villa for the night, but most of the furniture had been destroyed by the cossacks. orders were given to prevent the soldiers destroying the vineyards or eating the fruit, but of course it was quite impossible to guard so extensive and tempting a region as the valley of the katcha from thirsty and hungry men. there our soldiers fared on the richest of grapes and the choicest pears and apples; but they did not waste and spoil as the french did at mamaschai, lower down the river. chapter v. move from the katcha--the belbek--the flank march--what might have been done--a surprise--skirmish with the russians--plunder--balaklava--mr. upton made prisoner--sebastopol--its fortifications--preparations for the siege--the cherson light-house--death of marshal st. arnaud--french and english positions. on the rd, it was discovered that the enemy had sunk a line of vessels across the harbour in deep water, so as to form a submarine barrier against us. the ships thus sunk were the _tre sviatitel (three bishops)_, three-decker; _sufail_, _urail_, two-deckers; the frigates _varna_ and _med_, and the old two-decker _bachmont_. this resolute and sagacious measure was advised by korniloff, and adopted by menschikoff. the head-quarters did not move from the katcha till nearly noon on the th. the day was very hot, and the troops, standing under arms, or lying down under the sun while this long delay took place, were very much dissatisfied. the french received between , and , men, who landed on the night of the rd and the morning of the th, at the mouth of the katcha. the scots greys, landed from the _himalaya_, and the th regiment, which had been all but disembarked at the mouth of the alma, came round to the katcha and joined the army. the country towards the belbek is hilly and barren for a couple of miles after leaving the katcha river. then it becomes somewhat fresher and more level, and at length the river is approached by a gentle descent of meadow and greensward from the hills. the distance between the katcha and the belbek is about six miles. the valley of the belbek is commanded by high hills on the left bank, but instead of being bare, like the summits of the hills over the katcha and the alma, they are covered with trees and brushwood. [illustration plan of the fortifications of sebastopol to sept st .] [sidenote: a disorderly march.] as it had been ascertained by _reconnaissance_ that the enemy had batteries along the north-west of the harbour of sebastopol, in conjunction with the star fort and fort constantine, which would cause loss in an attempt to invest the town on that face, it occurred to sir john burgoyne that a flank movement on balaklava would turn and neutralize the batteries, secure a new base of operations (of which, we were in want, having abandoned that of the katcha), and distract the enemy, who would find the weakest part of sebastopol exposed to the fire of our batteries, and our attacks directed against a point where they had least reason to expect it, and which they might have imagined free from all assault. the whole army marched towards the south-east, on the black river, and as they were obliged to pass through a thickly-wooded country, intersected by narrow lanes winding up and down the hills, the troops were in some disorder, and had the enemy possessed the smallest enterprise they might have inflicted severe loss and annoyance by a spirited attack on our flank. this operation they at one time contemplated, but they dreaded the result of a second defeat. at times, from the top of the hills, the town, with its white houses shining in the sun, could plainly be seen. all the afternoon the steamers effected a diversion by shelling the star fort and fort constantine, but at such a long range they could do but little execution; however, the fire had the effect of engaging the attention of the russians. they did not make the smallest attempt to interrupt our progress. in the course of our march the baggage was sent too far to the left, and became involved in the line of the french and turkish troops, who were marching on our flanks. lord raglan and his staff rode on (as was their wont) in advance, and reconnoitred sebastopol. they were close to the north-east fort; but no shot was fired at them, notwithstanding that they were within range. the works which commanded the mouth of the belbek were inconsiderable, and could easily have been silenced by the fleet. an eyewitness, who served in the russian army, states that all the troops, as they arrived in at the south side on the th and st, crossed to the south-west, except the taioutine regiment. such a movement would make it appear that the russians expected a descent upon the south side, or were prepared to hold that side against the north, in case the allies seized upon the sievernaya and the northern forts. the only preparation made for the defence of the sievernaya on the nd was as follows:--the taioutine regiment, four battalions; the four depôt battalions of the th division, and one battalion of sailors, in all about , men, were placed to garrison the work, which was in a very bad state and badly armed. they received orders to retire by a subterranean passage , feet long to the sea-side, in case the enemy should attack with vigour. on the rd, finding they were not pressed or pursued, the russians pushed twelve battalions, two field batteries, and a regiment of cavalry, to the belbek, and at one time seemed to have contemplated a demonstration against our flank. this, however, they abandoned; and on the th they turned their attention to the defence of the bridge across the tchernaya, at inkerman, on which they brought to bear four field and four siege guns, and the troops which had been on the belbek, and the th division, the cavalry part of the th division, &c., moved across the tchernaya by the traktir bridge, and ascended to mackenzie's farm, whence on the morning of the th they descended to otoukoi, on the belbek, and marched to bakschiserai to await the course of events, being joined there by prince gortschakoff, with the rest of the russian army of the alma. the troops left in sebastopol, exclusive of the equipages of the fleet, were four battalions of the reserve of the th division, which had suffered severely at the alma, four depôt battalions of the th division, and third battalion of the taioutine regiment, in all nine weak battalions. all the russian officers with whom i have conversed--all the testimony i have heard or read, coincide on these two points--first, that if on the th we had moved to bakschiserai in pursuit of the russians, we should have found their army in a state of the most complete demoralisation, and might have forced the great majority of them to surrender as prisoners of war in a sort of _cul de sac_, from which but few could have escaped. secondly, that had we advanced directly against sebastopol, the town would have surrendered after some slight show of resistance to save the honour of the officers. the deduction from these propositions is that the flank march was the certain precursor of a long siege, of bloody battles and great losses; was an evidence of diffidence, and at the same time of boldness which, though favoured by fortune in its execution, was scarcely justifiable in a military sense, and was an abandonment of the original character of the expedition. and here i may be permitted to remark, that the statement in the letters (of a staff-officer) "from head-quarters," page , to the effect that lord lyons could not have disapproved of the flank march because he was not present when sir john burgoyne proposed it, and that his manner, when he received lord raglan at balaklava, "proved he highly admired" that movement, is calculated to lead to very erroneous impressions in the minds of those who attach any weight to the assertions of that officer. lord lyons, when he heard of the flank march, expressed his disapproval of it, and when he met lord raglan, he (as i heard from his own lips) told his lordship that he conceived the flank march to be a departure from the spirit in which the expedition was undertaken, and said, "this is strategy, but we are in no condition for strategical operation. we came here for a coup-de-main, but this is strategy!" the effects of that march are now matters beyond argument, and we can only weigh probable results against events--a very difficult equation. whatever may be the opinions of civilians or military men respecting the flank march, it is certain that to sir john burgoyne belongs the credit of originating the idea at the conference which took place between the generals on the belbek. [sidenote: a dangerous example.] on the day of our march from the katcha i was struck down by fever, fell from my pony into the stream where he was drinking, and was placed by one of the staff surgeons in a jolting araba carrying a part of the baggage of the light division, with poor hughes of the rd regiment, one of the finest men in the british army, who died in the course of the winter. the sun was exceedingly powerful, and when from the top of a wooded hill we saw the delicious valley of the belbek studded with little snow-white cottages, with stately villas, with cosy snug-looking hamlets buried in trees, and fringed with a continuous line of the most gloriously green vineyards, and the noblest orchards of fruit-trees, there was a murmur of delight throughout the army, the men, precipitating themselves down the steep slopes of the hill-sides, soon swarmed in every garden, and clustered in destructive swarms around every bush. their halt was, however, a short one. the word was given to push over the stream, and its bright waters were soon denied by the tramp of many feet. just as the araba in which i lay was passing by a beautiful little chateau, said to belong to a russian general, i saw a stream of soldiers issue from it, laden with incongruous, but at the same time the richest, spoils; others were engaged inside, breaking the glasses, throwing mirrors, pictures, and furniture out of the open frames. i learned from an officer who was standing by that the soldiers had not done the smallest mischief till they saw a staff-officer take a bronze statuette out of the house and ride away with it, whereupon the cry arose, "let us plunder too if our officer sets the example." i could not help thinking what would have been the fate of that officer if he had served under our great duke. at the other side of the valley of the belbek the hill-sides are exceedingly steep, and were covered with dwarf wood and undergrowth of bushes. it was with difficulty the waggons were urged up the rugged and narrow paths. lord raglan occupied one of the plundered villas, near the only bridge the russians had left across the stream. there was very great confusion in getting the men into their places on this wooded and steep ridge of hills intersected with ravines, and it was long after sunset ere the men finally settled down at their bivouac fires. they had not eaten their scrambling and very heterogeneous suppers, and laid down to rest more than a few hours, when (about . in the morning) the report of a gun on the hills towards our right woke up the allied armies. the bugles at once sounded, the men stood to their arms, but all was silent. it appeared that the french vedettes saw some cossacks in their front, and fell back on a picket who were bivouacing by a large fire, when the enemy opened upon them at a long range, either from some of the earthworks of the north side or from field-pieces. the shot whizzed high over head, and one of them passed over the english head-quarters, but as the vedettes reported all quiet in front soon afterwards, the troops piled arms and lay down to sleep again. cholera was much on the increase, and many fell sick or died during the night. on monday morning, the th, our troops were under arms at . a.m.; at seven lord raglan, sir john burgoyne, and other staff officers proceeded to the french head-quarters, to decide on the course to be pursued in the forthcoming attack on sebastopol. marshal st. arnaud was very unwell, but if m. de bazancourt is to be credited, he was able to write very unjust entries in his journal, and to speak in a tone of egotistical confidence which his situation rendered painful, and which but for that would have been ridiculous. he says, under the head of the th, "the english ought to start first, and do not move till nine o'clock." he must have known that till after nine o'clock it was not decided what course the troops were to take. again, he speaks of himself as the sole leader, at a time when he had all but resigned the command. "je les battrai," &c., on the very day when he was obliged to be carried from his tent in prince menschikoff's carriage. at the conferences, the french proposed to force the inkerman bridge across the tchernaya, and to make a push at the town. sir john burgoyne proposed that we should cross the stream by the bridge, at a place called traktir, or "restaurant," near tchorguna, and by his representations carried the majority of those present with him, as he adduced strong reasons for seizing balaklava, kamiesch, and kazatch, which were as much appreciated by our allies as by the english. it was therefore decided that the armies should continue their march on the ridge between the belbek and the tchernaya. our march was by different routes, the artillery proceeding by a difficult road, which allowed only one horseman to ride by the side of each gun. the duke of cambridge's baggage was actually within gunshot of sebastopol for a quarter of an hour. as lord raglan was riding on in front of his staff he found himself, on emerging from a wooded road on the open space in front, in the immediate presence of a body of russian infantry, which turned out to be the baggage guard of a large detachment of the russian army marching from sebastopol to bakschiserai. they were not more than a few hundred yards distant. lord raglan turned his horse, and quietly cantered back to the rear of the first division of artillery. the cavalry, consisting of a portion of the th and th hussars, were quickly got in front--the guns were unlimbered and opened on the retreating mass of russians; the nd battalion of rifles in skirmishing order threw in a volley, the cavalry executed a charge, and the russians broke and fled, leaving behind them an enormous quantity of baggage of every description. the enemy were pursued two or three miles on the road to bakschiserai, but they fled so precipitately the cavalry could not come up with them. the troops were halted and allowed to take what they liked. they broke open the carts and tumbled out the contents on the road; but the pillage was conducted with regularity, and the officers presided over it to see that there was no squabbling, and that no man took more than his share. immense quantities of wearing apparel, of boots, shirts, coats, dressing cases, valuable ornaments, and some jewellery were found in the baggage carts, as well as a military chest containing some money (there are people who say it held _l._). a russian artillery officer was found in one of the carriages, in a very jovial mood. plenty of champagne was discovered among the baggage, and served to cheer the captors during their cold bivouac that night. a number of handsome hussar jackets, richly laced with silver, and made of fine light-blue cloth, which had never been worn, were also taken, and sold by the soldiers for sums varying from _s._ to _s._ a-piece. fine large winter cloaks of cloth, lined with rich furs, were found in abundance. [sidenote: a land-locked bay.] this plunder put the soldiers in good humour, and they marched the whole day, leaving sebastopol on their right, till they arrived at the little hamlet of traktir, on the tchernaya or black river, just before sunset, and halted for the night. as the baggage was separated from the bulk of the army by the distance of some miles, lord raglan was fain to put up in a miserable lodge for the night, while the bulk of his staff slept on the ground in a ditch outside it. not the smallest attempt was made by the enemy to interrupt or annoy us during this very remarkable march, which could at any time have been greatly harassed by the least activity on the part of the russians. continuing our advance early next morning, we crossed the tchernaya, and proceeded across the plains to balaklava. he was a bold mariner who first ventured in here, and keen-eyed too. i never was more astonished in my life than when on the morning of tuesday, sept. th, i halted on the top of one of the numerous hills of which this portion of the crimea is composed, and looking down saw under my feet a little pond, closely compressed by the sides of high rocky mountains; on it floated some six or seven english ships, for which exit seemed quite hopeless. the bay is like a highland tarn, and it is long ere the eye admits that it is some half mile in length from the sea, and varies from to yards in breadth. the shores are so steep and precipitous that they shut out the expanse of the harbour, and make it appear much smaller than it really is. towards the sea the cliffs close up and completely overlap the narrow channel which leads to the haven, so that it is quite invisible. on the south-east of the poor village, which struggles for existence between the base of the rocky hills and the margin of the sea, are the extensive ruins of a genoese fort, built some feet above the level of the sea. it must have once been a large and important position, and its curtains, bastions, towers, and walls, all destroyed and crumbling in decay though they are, evince the spirit and enterprise of the hardy seamen who penetrated these classic recesses so long ago. there may be doubts whether the genoese built it, but there can be none that it is very old, and superior in workmanship to the edifices of the turks or tartars. the staff advanced first on the town, and were proceeding to enter it, when, to their surprise, from the old forts above came four spirts of smoke in rapid succession, and down came four shells into the ground close to them; but by this time the _agamemnon_, outside the rocks, was heard. the rifles and some of the light division opened fire, and the fort hung out a flag of truce. the commandant had only sixty men, and they were all made prisoners. on being asked why he fired from a position which he must have known to be untenable, he replied that he did so in order that he might be summoned, and that he felt bound to fire till required to surrender. lord raglan entered about twelve o'clock in the day. as he approached the inhabitants came out to meet him, bearing trays laden with fruit and flowers. some of them bore loaves of bread cut up in pieces, and placed on dishes covered with salt, in token of goodwill and submission. towards evening, the agamemnon glided in between the rocks in the narrow harbour, and anchored opposite the house of the general, whom sir e. lyons speedily visited. the fleet and army were thus once more united, and lord raglan had secured his base of operations. our cavalry in the afternoon took mr. upton, son of the english engineer who constructed so many useful works at sebastopol. he was captured on his farm, and was taken before lord raglan, but refused to give any information respecting the russians, as he said he could not reconcile it to his notions of honour to injure a government in whose military service he had been. all the hills around were barren rock; towards the land they became more fertile, and for a mile towards sebastopol and simpheropol were studded with pleasant-looking white villas and farmhouses, principally inhabited by russian officials from sebastopol. the lighthouse of cape cherson fell into our hands, and was lighted up by english sailors. the russians had left it in darkness, but a party of blue-jackets dashed at it on the th of september, and compelled the russian lighthouse-keeper to illuminate it. jack was in great delight at this. the _firebrand_ and _sanspareil_ landed sailors from the fleet on the st of october. they were placed under canvas at the head of the bay of balaklava. one thousand marines garrisoned the heights above the town, and the first division, liberated by their presence, moved on in advance, and supported the fourth division. the turks encamped at the rear and to the right of our third division. the _australian_, _sidney_, and _gertrude_, with the heavy artillery and siege train, came in on the th, and proceeded to disembark their heavy guns at a pier which was repaired by the rd company of sappers. the th and nd divisions were pushed on towards the south-west side of sebastopol, and encamped on ridges about two miles from the city, separated from each other by a ravine, which commences near balaklava and runs nearly to the head of the creek of sebastopol. the city was quite visible below. across the north of the harbour, near the most easterly of the creeks, was placed a two-decker, painted so as to look like a three-decker, with springs on her cable, and her broadside turned towards our position. on the northern side a large circular work, with three tiers of guns--fort constantine--was visible, and more inland there was another large fortification, called the "star fort." on the near side was a very large fortification, with curtains, running inland, a semi-circular bastion, and some rudimentary earthworks--all outside the town. lord raglan and staff rode out and made a reconnaissance. a frigate, anchored inside the two-decker, near the end of the creek, amused herself by firing round shot and shell, but did no damage. the french landed their guns at kamiesch and khazatchel. the cholera, which never left us, made many victims. colonel beckwith ( st battalion rifles), captain cox (grenadier guards), colonel hoey ( th regiment), dr. mackay, lieutenant grant ( th), the rev. mr. mockler, and others, were among the number. [sidenote: ravages of cholera.] on friday, september , marshal st. arnaud, who had been obliged to resign his command to general canrobert on the march, was carried from his quarters in balaklava on board the _berthollet_ in a dying state, and expired at sea ere she reached the bosphorus. on the th, all our heavy guns were parked. on the st of october, there was a general rest throughout the army. the enemy the whole of that day amused themselves firing shot and shell over the heads of our artillery, and general cathcart was obliged to move his quarters, as the russians found out his range and made beautiful practice at them. however, he left his flagstaff, which seemed of much attraction to them, in the same place, and they continued to hammer away at it as usual. the second division moved up on the left of our position on the th of october, and the light division took ground on the extreme right. lieutenant-colonel dickson obtained the command of captain patton's battery of artillery, vacated by the decease of the latter-named officer by cholera. during the first three weeks of our stay in the crimea we lost as many of cholera as perished on the alma. we heard strange things from the deserters who began to join us. they said that thirty russian ladies went out of sebastopol to see the battle of the alma, as though they were going to a play or a picnic. they were quite assured of the success of the russian troops, and great was their alarm and dismay when they found themselves obliged to leave the telegraph house on the hill, and to fly for their lives in their carriages. there is no doubt but that our enemies were perfectly confident of victory. forty pieces of heavy artillery were sent up on the th of october to the park, and twelve tons of gunpowder were safely deposited in the mill on the road towards sebastopol. as the french had very little ground left on which to operate on our left, the nd division moved from its position, crossed the ravine on its right, and took up ground near the th division. the french immediately afterwards sent up a portion of their troops to occupy the vacant ground. dr. thomson, of the th, and mr. reade, assistant-surgeon staff, died of cholera on the th of october, in balaklava. the town was in a revolting state. lord raglan ordered it to be cleansed, but there was no one to obey the order, and consequently no one attended to it. book iii. the commencement of the siege--the first bombardment--its failure--the battle of balaklava--cavalry charge--the battle of inkerman--its consequences. chapter i. english head-quarters--investment of sebastopol--russian batteries open fire--the greeks expelled from balaklava--first sortie--plan of the works--the turks--review of the campaign--impediments--"right" and "left" attacks--officers in command--opening of the siege--first bombardment--its results--the "valley of death"--hard pounding--privations--russian movements--conflagrations--a stratagem--returns of killed and wounded--diminution of our numbers--russian tactics. lord raglan and staff established head-quarters in a snug farmhouse, surrounded by vineyards and extensive out-offices, about four and a half miles from balaklava, on the th of october. from the rising ground, about a mile and a half distant from head-quarters, in front, the town of sebastopol was plainly visible. the russians were occupied throwing up works and fortifying the exposed portions of the town with the greatest energy. the investment of the place on the south side was, as far as possible, during the night of the th, completed. our lines were to be pushed on the right and closed in towards the north, so as to prevent supplies or reinforcements passing out or in on this side of the black river. this measure was absolutely necessary to enable our engineers to draw the lines or measure the ground. the russians continued to work all the week at the white fort, and cast up strong earthworks in front of it, and also on the extreme left, facing the french. they fired shell and shot, at intervals of ten minutes, into the camps of the second and light divisions. sir george brown had to move his quarters more to the rear. [sidenote: effects of martial music.] the silence and gloom of our camp, as compared with the activity and bustle of that of the french, were very striking. no drum, no bugle-call, no music of any kind, was ever heard within our precincts, while our neighbours close by kept up incessant rolls, fanfaronnades, and flourishes, relieved every evening by the fine performances of their military bands. the fact was, many of our instruments had been placed in store, and the regimental bands were broken up and disorganized, the men being devoted to the performance of the duties for which the ambulance corps was formed. i think, judging from one's own feelings, and from the expressions of those around, that the want of music in camp was productive of graver consequences than appeared likely to occur at first blush from such a cause. every military man knows how regiments, when fatigued on the march, cheer up at the strains of their band, and dress up, keep step, and walk on with animation and vigour when it is playing. at camp, i always observed with pleasure the attentive auditory who gathered every evening at the first taps of the drum to listen to the music. at aladyn and devno the men used to wander off to the lines of the th, because it had the best band in the division; and when the bands were silenced because of the prevalence of cholera, out of a humane regard for the feelings of the sick, the soldiers were wont to get up singing parties in their tents in lieu of their ordinary entertainment. it seemed to be an error to deprive them of a cheering and wholesome influence at the very time they needed it most. the military band was not meant alone for the delectation of garrison towns, or for the pleasure of the officers in quarters, and the men were fairly entitled to its inspiration during the long and weary march in the enemy's country, and in the monotony of a standing camp ere the beginning of a siege. soon after daybreak on the morning of the th, the russian batteries opened a heavy fire on the right of our position, but the distance was too great for accuracy. on the same day four battalions of french, numbering men, broke ground at nine o'clock p.m., and before daybreak they had finished a ditch, parapet, and banquette, metres long, at a distance of metres from the enemy's line; and so little did the russians suspect the operation, that they never fired a gun to disturb them. each man worked and kept guard at one of the covering parties in turn till daybreak, and by that time each man had finished his half metre of work, so that the , metres were completed. from this position a considerable portion of the enemy's defences on their right was quite under control, and the french could command the heaviest fort on that side. from the top of the ditch seventy-six guns could be counted in the embrasures of this work, which was called the bastion du mât. the french had got forty-six guns ready to mount when the embrasures should be made and faced with gabions and fascines, and the platforms were ready. their present line was from to yards nearer to the enemy's lines than ours; but the superior weight of our siege guns more than compensated for the difference of distance. on the previous night the british, who had already thrown up some detached batteries, broke ground before sebastopol on the left. soon after dark, men were marched out silently under the charge and direction of captain chapman, r.e., who has the construction of the works and engineering department of the left attack under his control. about yards of trench were made, though the greatest difficulty was experienced in working, owing to the rocky nature of the ground. the cover was tolerably good. the russians never ceased firing, but attempted nothing more, and those who were hoping for a sortie were disappointed. as an earthwork for a battery had been thrown up the previous day, within fire of the enemy's guns, their attention was particularly directed to our movements, and throughout the day they kept up a tremendous fire on the high grounds in front of the light and second divisions. the russians, who usually ceased firing at sunset, were on the alert all night, and continued their fire against the whole line of our approaches almost uninterruptedly. every instant the darkness was broken by a flash which had all the effect of summer lightning--then came darkness again, and in a few seconds a fainter flash denoted the bursting of a shell. the silence in the english camp afforded a strange contrast to the constant roar of the russian batteries, to the music and trumpet calls and lively noises of the encampment of our allies. after nightfall the batteries on the russian centre opened so fiercely that it was expected they were covering a sortie, and the camp was on the alert in consequence. lord raglan, accompanied by quartermaster-general airey and several officers, started at ten o'clock, and rode along the lines, minutely inspecting the state and position of the regiments and works. they returned at half-past one o'clock in the morning. the casualties on the night of the th were, one man, th, died of wounds, legs taken off; one man, th, killed by cannon-shot; another man, th, arm shot off; lieutenant rotherham, th, slightly wounded in the leg by a stone which had been "started" by a cannon-shot. colonel waddy, captain gray, and lieutenant mangles, th, were wounded by a shell on the evening of the th. it was rumoured that the russians would attack balaklava, while the greeks were to aid them by setting fire to the town. the information on this point was so positive, that the authorities resorted to the extreme measure of ordering the greeks, men, women, and children, to leave the town, and the order was rigidly carried into effect before evening. an exception was made in favour of the tartar families, who were all permitted to remain. the greeks were consoled in their flight by a good deal of plunder in the shape of clothes which had been left with them to wash. [sidenote: the terrors of a ringing cheer.] capt. gordon, r.e., commenced our right attack soon after dark. four hundred men were furnished from the second and light divisions on the works, and strong covering parties were sent out in front and in rear to protect them. the working party was divided into four companies of men each, and they worked on during the night with such good will, that before morning no. party had completed yards; no. , yards; no. , yards; no. , yards--in all yards of trench ready for conversion into batteries. these trenches were covered very perfectly. it was intended that a party of similar strength should be employed on the left and centre; but, owing to one of those accidents which unavoidably occur in night work, the sappers and miners missed their way, and got in advance towards the lines of the enemy. they were perceived by an advanced post, which opened fire on them at short distance, and, wonderful to relate, missed them all. the flashes, however, showed our men that strong battalions of russian infantry were moving silently towards our works, and the alarm was given to the division in the rear. at twenty-five minutes past one a furious cannonade was opened by the enemy on our lines, as they had then ascertained that we had discovered their approach. the second and light divisions turned out, and our field guns attached to them opened fire on the enemy, who were advancing under the fire of their batteries. owing to some misunderstanding, the covering parties received orders to retire, and fell back on their lines--all but one company of riflemen, under the command of lieutenant godfrey, who maintained the ground with tenacity, and fired into the columns of the enemy with effect. the russians pushed on field-pieces to support their assault. the batteries behind them were livid with incessant flashes, and the roar of shot and shell filled the air, mingled with the constant "ping-pinging" of rifle and musket-balls. all the camps "roused out." the french on our left got under arms, and the rattle of drums and the shrill blast of trumpets were heard amid the roar of cannon and small arms. for nearly half-an-hour this din lasted, till all of a sudden a ringing cheer was audible on our right, rising through the turmoil. it was the cheer of the th, as they were ordered to charge down the hill on their unseen enemy. it had its effect, for the russians, already pounded by our guns and shaken by the fire of our infantry, as well as by the aspect of the whole hill-side lined with our battalions, turned and fled under the shelter of their guns. their loss was not known; ours was very trifling. the sortie was completely foiled, and not an inch of our lines was injured, while the four-gun battery (the main object of their attack) was never closely approached at all. the alarm over, every one returned quietly to tent or bivouac. in order to understand this description of the works, it will be necessary to refer to the plan which accompanies this. it affords a good idea of the appearance presented by the lines and works on the eve of the first bombardment. at the distance of about sagenes (a sagene is seven feet), from the south extremity of the careening bay, was placed a round tower, around which the russians had thrown up extensive entrenchments, armed with heavy guns. there was a standing camp of cavalry and infantry on a rising ground, on the summit of which this tower was placed, and probably , or , men were encamped there. this round tower was provided with guns, which, equally with those in the earthworks below, threw shot and shell right over our advanced posts and working parties, and sometimes pitched them over the hills in our front into the camps below. at the distance of yards from this round tower, in a direction nearly due south-south-east, our first batteries were to be formed, and the earthworks had been thrown up there, inclining with the slope of the hill towards the end of the dockyard creek, from which they were distant yards. the guns of works were intended to command the dockyard creek, the ships placed in it, and the part of the town and its defences on the west and south of the creek. our left attack extended up towards the slope of the ravine which divided the french from the british attacks, and which ran south-east from the end of the dockyard creek up to our headquarters at khutor. dominating both of these entrenchments, for most of their course, was a heavy battery of eight lancaster and ten-inch naval guns, placed at a distance of yards from the enemy's lines. the extreme of the french right was about two and a half miles from the extreme of the british left attack. south of the cemetery, and inclining up towards quarantine bay and the fresh-water wells, were the french lines, which were beautifully made and covered. the fire of the russian batteries thrown up from the circular position at the end of the western wall towards the barracks, near the end of the dockyard harbour, was incessantly directed on them, and shells sometimes burst in the lines; but as a general rule they struck the hill in front, bounded over, and burst in the rear. our left attack crept round towards inkerman, and commanded the place from the influx of the tchernaya into the head of the bay or harbour of sebastopol, to the hills near the round tower already threatened by our right attack. the french commanded the place from the sea to the ravine at the end of the dockyard harbour, and when their guns were mounted, it was hoped that all the forts, intrenchments, buildings, earthworks, barracks, batteries, and shipping would be destroyed. the front of both armies united, and the line of offensive operations covered by them, extended from the sea to the tchernaya for seven and a half or eight miles. from our extreme right front to balaklava our lines extended for about the same distance, and the position of the army had been made so strong on the eastern, south-eastern, flank and rear, as to set all the efforts of the russians to drive us from it utterly at defiance. in the first place, the road from kadikoi to kamara, and the western passes of the mountains, had been scarped in three places so effectually that it would have been difficult for infantry, and therefore impossible for artillery, to get along it to attack us. a heavy gun had, however, been placed in position on the heights to command this road, and to sweep the three scarps effectually. on the heights over the east side of balaklava, were pitched the tents of about marines from the various ships of the fleet, and several pound and pound howitzers had been dragged up into position on the same elevation. at kadikoi, towards the north-west, was situated a sailors' camp of about men, with heavy guns in support, and with a temporary park for artillery and ship-guns below them. from kadikoi towards traktir the ground was mountainous, or rather it was exceedingly hilly, the heights having a tumular appearance, and the ridges being intersected by wide valleys, through a series of which passed on one side prince woronzoff's road, the road to inkerman, and thence to sebastopol, by a long _détour_ over the bakschiserai road, and that to traktir. [sidenote: suspicions of pork in disguise.] on five of these tumular ridges overlooking the road to balaklava, a party of turks were busily engaged casting up earthworks for redoubts, under the direction of captain wagman, a prussian engineer officer, who was under the orders of sir john burgoyne. in each of these forts were placed two heavy guns and turks. these poor fellows worked most willingly and indefatigably, though they had been exposed to the greatest privations. for some mysterious reason or other the turkish government sent instead of the veterans who fought under omar pasha, a body of soldiers of only two years' service, the latest levies of the porte, many belonging to the non-belligerent class of barbers, tailors, and small shopkeepers. still they were patient, hardy, and strong--how patient i am ashamed to say. i was told, on the best authority, that these men were landed without the smallest care for their sustenance, except that some marseilles biscuits were sent on shore for their use. these were soon exhausted--the men had nothing else. from the alma up to the th of october, the whole force had only two biscuits each! the rest of their food they had to get by the roadside as best they might, and in an inhospitable and desolated country they could not get their only solace, tobacco; still they marched and worked day after day, picking up their subsistence by the way as best they might, and these proud osmanli were actually seen walking about our camps, looking for fragments of rejected biscuit. but their sorrows were turned to joy, for the british people fed them, and such diet they never had before since mahomet enrolled his first army of the faithful. they delighted in their coffee, sugar, rice, and biscuits, but many of the true believers were much perturbed in spirit by the aspect of our salt beef, which they believed might be pork in disguise, and they subjected it to strange tests ere it was incorporated with ottoman flesh and blood. eighteen days had elapsed since our army, by a brilliant and daring forced march on balaklava, obtained its magnificent position on the heights which envelope sebastopol on the south side from the sea to the tchernaya; the delay was probably unavoidable. any officer who has been present at great operations of this nature will understand what it is for an army to land in narrow and widely separated creeks all its munitions of war--its shells, its cannon-shot, its heavy guns, mortars, its powder, its gun-carriages, its platforms, its fascines, gabions, sandbags, its trenching tools, and all the various _matériel_ requisite for the siege of extensive and formidable lines of fortifications and batteries. but few ships could come in at a time to balaklava or kamiesch; in the former there was only one small ordnance wharf, and yet it was there that every british cannon had to be landed. the nature of our descent on the crimea rendered it quite impossible for us to carry our siege train along with us, as is the wont of armies invading a neighbouring country only separated from their own by some imaginary line. we had to send all our _matériel_ round by sea, and then land it as best we could. but when once it was landed the difficulties of getting it up to places where it was required seemed really to commence. all these enormous masses of metal had to be dragged by men, aided by such inadequate horse-power as was at our disposal, over a steep and hilly country, on wretched broken roads, to a distance of eight miles, and one must have witnessed the toil and labour of hauling up a lancaster or ten-inch gun under such circumstances to form a notion of the length of time requisite to bring it to its station. it will, however, serve to give some idea of the severity of this work to state one fact--that on the th no less than thirty-three ammunition horses were found dead, or in such a condition as to render it necessary to kill them, after the duty of the day before. it follows from all these considerations that a great siege operation cannot be commenced in a few days when an army is compelled to bring up its guns. again, the nature of the ground around sebastopol offered great impediments to the performance of the necessary work of trenching, throwing up parapets, and forming earthworks. the surface of the soil was stony and hard, and after it had been removed the labourer came to strata of rock and petrous masses of volcanic formation, which defied the best tools to make any impression on them, and our tools were far from being the best. the result was that the earth for gabions and for sand-bags had to be carried from a distance in baskets, and in some instances enough of it could not be scraped together for the most trifling parapets. this impediment was experienced to a greater extent by the british than by the french. the latter had better ground to work upon, and they found fine beds of clay beneath the first coating of stones and earth, which were of essential service to them in forming their works. the officers commanding the batteries on the right attack were lieutenant-colonel dickson, captain d'aguilar, and captain strange. the officers commanding the batteries of the left attack were major young, major freese, and major irving. the whole of the siege-train was commanded by lieutenant-colonel gambier. our left attack consisted of four batteries and guns; our right attack of guns in battery. there were also two lancaster batteries and a four-gun battery of -pounders on our right. the french had guns. in all guns to guns of the russians. the night was one of great anxiety, and early in the morning we all turned out to see the firing. on th october the bombardment began. it commenced by signal at . a.m.; for thirty minutes previous the russians fired furiously on all the batteries. the cannonade on both sides was most violent for nearly two hours. at eight o'clock it was apparent that the french batteries in their extreme right attack, overpowered by the fire and enfiladed by the guns of the russians, were very much weakened; their fire slackened minute after minute. at . the fire slackened on both sides for a few minutes; but recommenced with immense energy, the whole town and the line of works being enveloped in smoke. [sidenote: terrific cannonades.] at . the french magazine in the extreme right battery of twelve guns blew up with a tremendous explosion, killing and wounding men. the russians cheered, fired with renewed vigour, and crushed the french fire completely, so that they were not able to fire more than a gun at intervals, and at ten o'clock they were nearly silenced on that side. at . the fire slackened on both sides, but the allies and russians re-opened vigorously at . . our practice was splendid, but our works were cut up by the fire from the redan and from the works round a circular martello tower on our extreme right. at . the french line-of-battle ships ran up in most magnificent style and engaged the batteries on the sea side. the scene was indescribable, the russians replying vigorously to the attacks by sea and land, though suffering greatly. at . another magazine in the french batteries blew up. the cannonade was tremendous. our guns demolished the round tower but could not silence the works around it. at . a great explosion took place in the centre of sebastopol amid much cheering from our men, but the fire was not abated. the lancaster guns made bad practice, and one of them burst. at . a terrific explosion of a powder magazine took place in the russian redan fort. the russians, however, returned to their guns, and still fired from the re-entering angle of their works. the cannonade was continuous from the ships and from our batteries, but the smoke did not permit us to discern whether the british fleet was engaged. at . a loose powder store inside our naval battery was blown up by a russian shell, but did no damage. the enemy's earthworks were much injured by our fire, the redan nearly silenced, and the fire of the round tower entrenchments diminished, though the inner works were still vigorous. at . the magazine inside the works of the round fort was blown up by our shot. at four the ships outside were ripping up the forts and stone-works and town by tremendous broadsides. only the french flag was visible, the english fleet being on the opposite side of the harbour. orders were given to spare the town and buildings as much as possible. from four to . the cannonade from our batteries was very warm, the russians replying, though our fire had evidently established its superiority over theirs, the ships pouring in broadside after broadside on forts nicholas and constantine at close ranges. towards dusk the fire slackened greatly, and at night it ceased altogether, the russians for the first time being silent. the french lost about men, principally by the explosions; our loss was very small--not exceeding killed and wounded from the commencement of the siege. the fire was resumed on the morning of the th, soon after daybreak. the french on that occasion were unable to support us, their batteries being silenced. during the night the russians remounted their guns and brought up fresh ones, and established a great superiority of fire and weight of metal. on the th, early in the morning, a vedette was seen "circling left" most energetically;--and here, in a parenthesis, i must explain that when a vedette "circles left," the proceeding signifies that the enemy's infantry are approaching, while to "circle right" is indicative of the approach of cavalry. on this signal was immediately heard the roll-call to "boot and saddle;" the scots greys and a troop of horse artillery assembled with the remaining cavalry on the plain; the rd got under arms, and the batteries on the heights were immediately manned. the distant pickets were seen to advance, and a dragoon dashed over the plain with the intelligence that the enemy was advancing quickly. then cavalry and infantry moved upon the plain, remaining in rear of the eminences from which the movements of the vedettes had been observed. this state of things continued for an hour, when, from the hills, about yards in front, the turks opened fire from their advanced entrenchments. the moskows then halted in their onward course, and in the evening lighted their watch-fires about yards in front of our vedettes, the blaze showing bright and high in the darkness. of course we were on the alert all night, and before the day broke were particularly attentive to our front. if the russians had intended to attack us at that time, they could not have had a more favourable morning, a low dense white fog covering the whole of the plain. the sun rose, and the mist disappeared, when it was found the russians had vanished also. the next day, the th, we naturally expected would be a quiet one, and that we should not be annoyed by having to remain at our arms for our final work. not a bit of it; we had just laden ourselves with haversacks to forage among the merchant shipping in the harbour, when a vedette was seen to "circle right" most industriously. "boot and saddle" again resounded through the cavalry camps, and another day was passed like its predecessor, the enemy finally once more retiring, this time without advancing near enough for a shot from the turks. the enemy scarcely fired during the night of the th. our batteries were equally silent. the french on their side opened a few guns on their right attack, at which they worked all night to get them into position; but they did not succeed in firing many rounds before the great preponderance of the enemy's metal made itself felt, and their works were damaged seriously; in fact, their lines, though nearer to the enemy's batteries than our own in some instances, were not sufficiently close for the light brass guns with which they were armed. [sidenote: feats of heroism.] at daybreak on the th the firing continued as usual from both sides. the russians, having spent the night in repairing the batteries, were nearly in the same position as ourselves, and, unaided or at least unassisted to the full extent we had reason to expect by the french, we were just able to hold our own during the day. some smart affairs of skirmishers and sharpshooters took place in front. our riflemen annoyed the russian gunners greatly, and prevented the tirailleurs from showing near our batteries. on one occasion the russian riflemen and our own men came close upon each other in a quarry before the town. our men had exhausted all their ammunition; but as soon as they saw the russians, they seized the blocks of stone which were lying about, and opened a vigorous volley on the enemy. the latter either had empty pouches, or were so much surprised that they forgot to load, for they resorted to the same missiles. a short fight ensued, which ended in our favour, and the russians retreated, pelted vigorously as long as the men could pursue them. the coolness of a young artillery officer, named maxwell, who took some ammunition to the batteries through a tremendous fire along a road so exposed to the enemy's fire that it has been called "the valley of death," was highly spoken of on all sides. the blue-jackets were delighted with captain peel, who animated the men by the exhibition of the best qualities of an officer, though his courage was sometimes marked by an excess that bordered on rashness. when the union jack in the sailors' battery was shot away, he seized the broken staff, and leaping up on the earthworks, waved the old bit of bunting again and again amid a storm of shot, which fortunately left him untouched. our ammunition began to run short, but supplies were expected every moment. either from a want of cartridges, or from the difficulty of getting powder down to the works, our -gun battery was silent for some time. _the_ admiral (sir e. lyons), on his little grey pony, was to be seen hovering about our lines indefatigably. the french fire slackened very much towards one o'clock, the enemy pitching shells right into their lines and enfilading part of their new works. hour after hour one continuous boom of cannon was alone audible, and the smoke screened all else from view. at a quarter past three there was an explosion of powder in the tower opposite to our right attack. the flagstaff fort seemed much knocked about by the french. the redan and round tower earthworks fired nearly as well as ever. as it was very desirable to destroy the ships anchored in the harbour below us, and to fire the dockyard buildings, our rockets were brought into play, and, though rather erratic in their flight, they did some mischief, but not so much as was expected. wherever they fell the people could be seen flying up the streets when the smoke cleared. at three o'clock p.m. the town was on fire; but after the smoke had excited our hopes for some time, it thinned away and went out altogether. they kept smartly at work from three guns in the round tower works, and from some four or five in the redan, on our batteries. two -pounders were mounted during the night of the th in our batteries, and the firing, which nearly ceased after dark, was renewed by daybreak. we were all getting tired of this continual "pound-pounding," which made a great deal of noise, wasted much powder, and did very little damage. our amateurs were quite disappointed and tired out. rome was not built in a day, nor could sebastopol be taken in a week. in fact, we had run away with the notion that it was a kind of pasteboard city, which would tumble down at the sound of our cannon as the walls of jericho fell at the blast of joshua's trumpet. the news that sebastopol had fallen, which we received _viâ_ england, excited indignation and astonishment. the army was enraged, as they felt the verity, whenever it might be realized, must fall short of the effect of that splendid figment. they thought that the laurels of the alma would be withered in the blaze of popular delight at the imaginary capture. people at home must have known very little about us or our position. i was amused at seeing in a journal a letter from an "old indian," on the manufacture of campaign bread _more indico_, in which he advised us to use salt! milk! and butter! in the preparation of what must be most delicious food. salt was a luxury which was very rarely to be had, except in conjunction with porky fibre; and as to milk and butter, the very taste of them was forgotten. lord raglan was very glad to get a little cold pig and ration rum and water the night before we entered balaklava. however, the hardest lot of all was reserved for our poor horses. all hay rations for baggagers were rigidly refused; they only received a few pounds of indifferent barley. there was not a blade of grass to be had--the whole of these _plateaux_ and hills were covered with thistles only, and where the other covering of the earth went i know not. the hay ration for a charger was restricted to lb. daily. under these circumstances horseflesh was cheap, and friendly presents were being continually offered by one man to another of "a deuced good pony," which were seldom accepted. the next day, the th, i had a foraging expedition, and returned with a goose, butter, preserved milk, &c.--a very successful foray, and a full havresack. we were just beginning our meal of commissariat beef and pork, tempered with the contents of the aforesaid havresack, when away went the vedette again, first circling right and then reversing as suddenly to the left. again sounded trumpet, bugle, and drum through the plain, and masses again moved into position upon it. so we remained till dark, a night attack on the turkish position in our front being anticipated, and so we again stood all ready for some hours, during which the only amusement was in the hands of the turks, who fired a round or two; darkness found us similarly occupied. at . p.m. a fire broke out behind the redan. at . p.m. a fire of less magnitude was visible to the left of the redan, further in towards the centre of the town. prince edward of saxe-weimar was wounded in the trenches. his wound was, however, not at all serious. our loss was three killed and thirty-two or thirty-three wounded. on the st a battery was finished before inkerman, and two -pounders were mounted in it, in order to silence the heavy ship gun which annoyed the second division. the steamer _vladimir_ came up to the head of the harbour and opened fire on the right attack. she threw her shell with beautiful accuracy, and killed two men and wounded twenty others before we could reply effectually. a large traverse was erected to resist her fire, and she hauled off. twenty-two guns were placed in a condition to open in this attack by the exertions of the men under major tylden, who directed it. [sidenote: russian stratagem.] lord dunkellin, captain coldstream guards, eldest son of the marquis of clanricarde, was taken prisoner on the nd. he was out with a working party of his regiment, which had got a little out of their way, when a number of men were observed through the dawning light in front of them. "there are the russians," exclaimed one of the men. "nonsense, they're our fellows," said his lordship, and off he went towards them, asking in a high tone as he got near, "who is in command of this party?" his men saw him no more, but he was afterwards exchanged for the russian artillery officer captured at mackenzie's farm. the russians opened a very heavy cannonade on us in the morning; they always did so on sundays. divine service was performed with a continued bass of cannon rolling through the responses and liturgy. the russians made a stealthy sortie during the night, and advanced close to the french pickets. when challenged, they replied, "inglis, inglis," which passed muster with our allies as _bonâ fide_ english; and before they knew where they were, the russians had got into their batteries and spiked five mortars. they were speedily repulsed; but this misadventure mortified our brave allies exceedingly. the return of killed and wounded for the nd, during the greater part of which a heavy fire was directed upon our trenches, and battery attacks right and left, showed the excellent cover of our works and their great solidity. we only lost one man killed in the light division, and two men in the siege train; of wounded we had one in the first division, two in the second division, two in the third division, six in the fourth division, five in the light division, and ten in the siege train. a request made to us by the french that we would direct our fire on the barrack battery, which annoyed them excessively, was so well attended to, that before evening we had knocked it to pieces and silenced it. but sickness continued, and the diminution of our numbers every day was enough to cause serious anxiety. out of , men borne on the strength of the army, there were not at this period more than , rank and file fit for service. in a fortnight upwards of men were sent as invalids to balaklava. there was a steady drain of some forty or fifty men a-day going out from us, which was not dried up by the numbers of the returned invalids. even the twenty or thirty a-day wounded and disabled, when multiplied by the number of the days we had been here, became a serious item in the aggregate. we were badly off for spare gun carriages and wheels, for ammunition and forage. whilst our siege works were languishing and the hour of assault appeared more distant, the enemy were concentrating on our flank and rear, and preparing for a great attempt to raise the siege. chapter ii. criticisms on the british cavalry--the light cavalry--rear of our position--endangered by the russians--redoubts defended by turks-- rd highlanders--the position--advance of the russians--retreat of the turks--marshalling of the forces--the cossacks stopped by the highlanders--charge of the heavy cavalry--captain nolan's order--the charge resolved upon--the advance--splendid spectacle--fearful struggle--retreat of the russians--our loss--sortie on the th of october. if the exhibition of the most brilliant valour, and of a daring which would have reflected lustre on the best days of chivalry, could afford full consolation for the affair of the th of october, we had no reason to regret the loss we sustained. in the following account i describe, to the best of my power, what occurred under my own eyes, and i state the facts which i heard from men whose veracity was unimpeachable. a certain feeling existed in some quarters that our cavalry had not been properly handled since they landed in the crimea, and that they had lost golden opportunities from the indecision and excessive caution of their leaders. it was said that our cavalry ought to have been manoeuvred at bouljanak in one way or in another, according to the fancy of the critic. it was affirmed, too, that the light cavalry were utterly useless in the performance of one of their most important duties--the collection of supplies for the army--that they were "above their business, and too fine gentlemen for their work;" that our horse should have pushed the flying enemy after the battle of the alma; and, above all, that at mackenzie's farm first, and at the gorge near kamara on the th october, they had been improperly restrained from charging, and had failed in gaining great successes, which would have entitled them to a full share of the laurels of the campaign, owing solely to the timidity of the officer in command. the existence of this feeling was known to many of our cavalry, and they were indignant and exasperated that the faintest shade of suspicion should rest upon any of their corps. with the justice of these aspersions they had nothing to do, and perhaps the prominent thought in their minds was that they would give such an example of courage to the world, if the chance offered itself, as would shame their detractors for ever. [sidenote: character of russian landscape.] it has been already mentioned that several battalions of russian infantry crossed the tchernaya, and threatened the rear of our position and our communication with balaklava. their bands could be heard playing at night by the travellers along the balaklava road to the camp, but they "showed" but little during the day, and kept among the gorges and mountain passes through which the roads to inkerman, simpheropol, and the south-east of the crimea wind towards the interior. the position we occupied was supposed by most people to be very strong. our lines were formed by natural mountain slopes in the rear, along which the french had made entrenchments. below these entrenchments, and very nearly in a right line across the valley beneath, were four conical hillocks, one rising above the other as they reached from our lines; the farthest, which joined the chain of mountains opposite to our ridges being named canrobert's hill, from the meeting there of that general with lord raglan after the march to balaklava. on the top of each of these hills the turks had thrown up redoubts, each defended by men, and armed with two or three heavy ship guns--lent by us to them, with one artilleryman in each redoubt to look after them. these hills crossed the valley of balaklava at the distance of about two and a half miles from the town. supposing the spectator, then, to take his stand on one of the heights forming the rear of our camp before sebastopol, he would have seen the town of balaklava, with its scanty shipping, its narrow strip of water, and its old forts, on his right hand; immediately below he would have beheld the valley and plain of coarse meadow land, occupied by our cavalry tents, and stretching from the base of the ridge on which he stood to the foot of the formidable heights at the other side; he would have seen the french trenches lined with zouaves a few feet beneath, and distant from him, on the slope of the hill; a turkish redoubt lower down, then another in the valley; then, in a line with it, some angular earthworks; then, in succession, the other two redoubts up to canrobert's hill. at the distance of two or two and a half miles across the valley was an abrupt rocky mountain range covered with scanty brushwood here and there, or rising into barren pinnacles and _plateaux_ of rock. in outline and appearance this portion of the landscape was wonderfully like the trosachs. a patch of blue sea was caught in between the overhanging cliffs of balaklava as they closed in the entrance to the harbour on the right. the camp of the marines, pitched on the hill sides more than feet above the level of the sea, was opposite to the spectator as his back was turned to sebastopol and his right side towards balaklava. on the road leading up the valley, close to the entrance of the town and beneath these hills, was the encampment of the rd highlanders. the cavalry lines were nearer to him below, and were some way in advance of the highlanders, but nearer to the town than the turkish redoubts. the valley was crossed here and there by small waves of land. on the left the hills and rocky mountain ranges gradually closed in towards the course of the tchernaya, till, at three or four miles' distance from balaklava, the valley was swallowed up in a mountain gorge and deep ravines, above which rose tier after tier of desolate whitish rock, garnished now and then by bits of scanty herbage, and spreading away towards the east and south, where they attained the alpine dimensions of the tschatir dagh. it was very easy for an enemy at the belbek, or in command of the road of mackenzie's farm, inkerman, simpheropol, or bakschiserai, to debouch through these gorges at any time upon this plain from the neck of the valley, or to march from sebastopol by the tchernaya, and to advance along it towards balaklava, till checked by the turkish redoubts on the southern side, or by the fire from the french works on the northern--_i.e._, the side which, in relation to the valley at balaklava, formed the rear of our position. it was evident enough that menschikoff and gortschakoff had been feeling their way along this route for several days past, and very probably at night the cossacks had crept up close to our pickets, which were not always as watchful as might be desired, and had observed the weakness of a position far too extended for our army to defend, and occupied by their despised enemy, the turks. at half-past seven o'clock on the eventful morning of the th, an orderly came galloping in to the head-quarters camp from sir colin campbell with the news, that at dawn a strong corps of russian horse, supported by guns and battalions of infantry, had marched into the valley, had nearly dispossessed the turks of the redoubt no. (that on canrobert's hill, which was farthest from our lines), and they had opened fire on the redoubts nos. , , and . lord lucan, who was in one of the redoubts when they were discovered, brought up his guns and some of his heavy cavalry, but they were obliged to retire owing to the superior weight of the enemy's metal. orders were despatched to sir george cathcart and the duke of cambridge, to put the fourth and the first in motion; and intelligence of the advance of the russians was furnished to general canrobert. immediately the general commanded general bosquet to get the third division under arms, and sent artillery and chasseurs d'afrique to assist us. sir colin campbell, who was in command of balaklava, had drawn up the rd highlanders a little in front of the road to the town, at the first news of the advance of the enemy. the marines on the heights got under arms; the seamen's batteries and marines' batteries, on the heights close to the town, were manned, and the french artillerymen and the zouaves prepared for action along their lines. lord lucan's men had not had time to water their horses; they had not broken their fast from the evening of the day before, and had barely saddled at the first blast of the trumpet, when they were drawn up on the slope behind the redoubts in front of their camp, to operate on the enemy's squadrons. when the russians advanced, the turks fired a few rounds, got frightened at the advance of their supports, "bolted," and fled with an agility quite at variance with common-place notions of oriental deportment on the battle-field. [sidenote: picturesque situations of the armies.] soon after eight o'clock, lord raglan and his staff turned out and cantered towards the rear of our position. the booming of artillery, the spattering roll of musketry, were heard rising from the valley, drowning the roar of the siege guns before sebastopol. as i rode in the direction of the firing, over the undulating plain that stretches away towards balaklava, on a level with the summit of the ridges above it, i observed a french light infantry regiment (the th, i think) advancing from our right towards the ridge near the telegraph-house, which was already lined by companies of french infantry. mounted officers scampered along its broken outline in every direction. general bosquet followed with his staff and a small escort of hussars at a gallop. never did the painter's eye rest on a more beautiful scene than i beheld from the ridge. the fleecy vapours still hung around the mountain tops, and mingled with the ascending volumes of smoke; the patch of sea sparkled freshly in the rays of the morning sun, but its light was eclipsed by the flashes which gleamed from the masses of armed men. looking to the left towards the gorge, we beheld six masses of russian infantry, which had just debouched from the mountain passes near the tchernaya, and were advancing with solemn stateliness up the valley. immediately in their front was a line of artillery. two batteries of light guns were already a mile in advance of them, and were playing with energy on the redoubts, from which feeble puffs of smoke came at long intervals. behind these guns, in front of the infantry, were bodies of cavalry. they were three on each flank, moving down _en échelon_ towards us, and the valley was lit up with the blaze of their sabres, and lance points, and gay accoutrements. in their front, and extending along the intervals between each battery of guns, were clouds of mounted skirmishers, wheeling and whirling in the front of their march like autumn leaves tossed by the wind. the zouaves close to us were lying like tigers at the spring, with ready rifles in hand, hidden chin deep by the earthworks which ran along the line of these ridges on our rear; but the quick-eyed russians were manoeuvring on the other side of the valley, and did not expose their columns to attack. below the zouaves we could see the turkish gunners in the redoubts, all in confusion as the shells burst over them. just as i came up, the russians had carried no. redoubt, the farthest and most elevated of all, and their horsemen were chasing the turks across the interval which lay between it and redoubt no. . at that moment the cavalry, under lord lucan, were formed--the light brigade, under lord cardigan, in advance; the heavy brigade, under brigadier-general scarlett, in reserve, drawn up in front of their encampment, and were concealed from the view of the enemy by a slight "wave" in the plain. considerably to the rear of their right, the rd highlanders were in front of the approach to balaklava. above and behind them, on the heights, the marines were visible through the glass, drawn up under arms, and the gunners could be seen ready in the earthworks, in which were placed the ships' heavy guns. the rd had originally been advanced somewhat more into the plain, but the instant the russians got possession of the first redoubt they opened fire on them from our own guns, which inflicted some injury, and sir colin campbell "retired" his men to a better position. meantime the enemy advanced his cavalry rapidly. the turks in redoubt no. fled in scattered groups towards redoubt no. , and balaklava; but the horse-hoof of the cossack was too quick for them, and sword and lance were busily plied among the retreating herd. the yells of the pursuers and pursued were plainly audible. as the lancers and light cavalry of the russians advanced they gathered up their skirmishers. the shifting trails of men, which played all over the valley like moonlight on the water, contracted, gathered up, and the little _peloton_ in a few moments became a solid column. up came their guns, in rushed their gunners to the abandoned redoubt, and the guns of no. soon played upon the dispirited defenders of no. redoubt. two or three shots in return and all was silent. the turks swarmed over the earthworks, and ran in confusion towards the town, firing at the enemy as they ran. again the solid column of cavalry opened like a fan, and resolved itself into a "long spray" of skirmishers. it lapped the flying turks, steel flashed in the air, and down went the moslem on the plain. in vain the naval guns on the heights fired on the russian cavalry; the distance was too great. in vain the turkish gunners in the batteries along the french entrenchments endeavoured to protect their flying countrymen; their shot flew wide and short of the swarming masses. the turks betook themselves towards the highlanders, where they checked their flight and formed on the flanks. as the russian cavalry on the left of their line crowned the hill across the valley, they perceived the highlanders drawn up at the distance of some half a mile. they halted, and squadron after squadron came up from the rear. the russians drew breath for a moment, and then in one grand line charged towards balaklava. the ground flew beneath their horses' feet; gathering speed at every stride, they dashed on towards that _thin red line tipped with steel_. the turks fired a volley at eight hundred yards and ran. as the russians came within six hundred yards, down went that line of steel in front, and out rang a rolling volley of minié musketry. the distance was too great; the russians were not checked, but swept onwards, here and there knocked over by the shot of our batteries; but ere they came within two hundred and fifty yards, another volley flashed from the rifles. the russians wheeled about, and fled faster than they came. "bravo, highlanders! well done!" shouted the excited spectators. but events thickened; the highlanders and their splendid front were soon forgotten--men scarcely had a moment to think of this fact, that the rd never altered their formation to receive that tide of horsemen. "no," said sir colin campbell, "i did not think it worth while to form them even four deep!" then they moved _en échelon_, in two bodies, with another in reserve. the cavalry who had been pursuing the turks on the right were coming up to the ridge beneath us, which concealed our cavalry from view. the heavy brigade in advance was drawn up in two lines. the first line consisted of the scots greys, and of their old companions in glory, the enniskillens; the second, of the th royal irish, of the th dragoon guards, and of the st royal dragoons. the light cavalry brigade was on their left, in two lines also. [sidenote: a gallant charge.] lord raglan sent orders to lord lucan to cover the approaches, and his heavy horse were just moving from their position near the vineyard and orchard, when he saw a body of the enemy's cavalry coming after him over the ridge. lord lucan rode after his cavalry, wheeled them round, and ordered them to advance against the enemy. the russians--evidently _corps d'élite_--their light blue jackets embroidered with silver lace, were advancing at an easy gallop towards the brow of the hill. a forest of lances glistened in their rear, and several squadrons of grey-coated dragoons moved up quickly to support them as they reached the summit. the instant they came in sight, the trumpets of our cavalry gave out the warning blast which told us all that in another moment we should see the shock of battle beneath our very eyes. lord raglan, all his staff and escort, and groups of officers, the zouaves, french generals and officers, and bodies of french infantry on the height, were spectators of the scene as though they were looking on the stage from the boxes of a theatre. every one dismounted, and not a word was said. the russians advanced down the hill at a slow canter, which they changed to a trot, and at last nearly halted. the trumpets rang out again through the valley, and the greys and enniskilleners went right at the centre of the russian cavalry. the space between them was only a few hundred yards; it was scarce enough to let the horses "gather way," nor had the men quite space sufficient for the full play of their sword arms. the russian line brought forward each wing as our cavalry advanced, and threatened to annihilate them as they passed on. turning a little to the left, so as to meet the russian right, the greys rushed on with a cheer that thrilled to every heart--the wild shout of the enniskilleners rose through the air at the same instant. as lightning flashes through a cloud, the greys and enniskilleners pierced through the dark masses of russians. the shock was but for a moment. there was a clash of steel and a light play of sword-blades in the air, and then the greys and the redcoats disappeared in the midst of the shaken and quivering column. the first line of russians, which had been smashed by and had fled off at one flank and towards the centre, were coming back to swallow up our handful of men. by sheer steel and sheer courage enniskillener and scot were winning their way right through the enemy's squadrons, and already grey horses and red coats appeared at the rear mass, when the th dragoon guards, riding at the right flank of the russians, and the th dragoon guards, following close after the enniskilleners, rushed at the enemy and put them to utter rout. a cheer burst from every lip--in the enthusiasm, officers and men took off their caps and shouted with delight; and thus keeping up the scenic character of their position, they clapped their hands again and again. lord raglan at once despatched lieutenant curzon, aide-de-camp, to convey his congratulations to brigadier-general scarlett, and to say "well done!" the russian cavalry, followed by our shot, retired in confusion, leaving the ground, covered with horses and men. at ten o'clock the guards and highlanders of the first division were seen moving towards the plains from their camp. the duke of cambridge came up to lord raglan for orders, and his lordship, ready to give the honour of the day to sir colin campbell, who commanded at balaklava, told his royal highness to place himself under the direction of the brigadier. at forty minutes after ten, the fourth division also took up their position in advance of balaklava. the cavalry were then on the left front of our position, facing the enemy; the light cavalry brigade _en échelon_ in reserve, with guns, on the right; the th royal irish, the th dragoon guards, and greys on the left of the brigade, the enniskillens and st royals on the right. the fourth division took up ground in the centre; the guards and highlanders filed off towards the extreme right, and faced the redoubts, from which the russians opened on them with artillery, which was silenced by the rifle skirmishers under lieutenant godfrey. at fifty minutes after ten, general canrobert, attended by his staff, and brigadier-general rose, rode up to lord raglan, and the staffs of the two generals and their escorts mingled in praise of the magnificent charge of our cavalry, while the chiefs apart conversed over the operations of the day, which promised to be one of battle. at fifty-five minutes after ten, a body of cavalry, the chasseurs d'afrique, passed down to the plain, and were loudly cheered by our men. they took up ground in advance of the ridges on our left. soon after occurred the glorious catastrophe. the quartermaster-general, brigadier airey, thinking that the light cavalry had not gone far enough in front, gave an order in writing to captain nolan, th hussars, to take to lord lucan. a braver soldier than captain nolan the army did not possess. he was known for his entire devotion to his profession, and for his excellent work on our drill and system of remount and breaking horses. he entertained the most exalted opinions respecting the capabilities of the english horse soldier. the british hussar and dragoon could break square, take batteries, ride over columns, and pierce any other cavalry, as if they were made of straw. he thought they had missed even such chances as had been offered to them--that in fact, they were in some measure disgraced. a matchless horseman and a first-rate swordsman he held in contempt, i am afraid even grape and canister. he rode off with his orders to lord lucan. when lord lucan received the order from captain nolan, and had read it, he asked, we are told, "where are we to advance to?" captain nolan pointed with his finger in the direction of the russians, and according to the statements made after his death, said "there are the enemy, and there are the guns," or words to that effect. [sidenote: the charge of balaklava.] lord raglan had only in the morning ordered lord lucan to move from the position he had taken near the centre redoubt to "the left of the second line of redoubts occupied by the turks." seeing that the rd and invalids were cut off from the cavalry, lord raglan sent another order to lord lucan to send his heavy horse towards balaklava, and that officer was executing it just as the russian horse came over the ridge. the heavy cavalry charge then took place, and afterwards the men dismounted on the scene. after an interval of half an hour, lord raglan again sent an order to lord lucan--"cavalry to advance and take advantage of any opportunity to recover the heights. they will be supported by infantry, which has been ordered to advance upon two fronts." lord raglan's reading of this order was, that the infantry had been ordered to advance on two fronts. it does not appear that the infantry had received orders to advance; the duke of cambridge and sir g. cathcart stated they were not in receipt of such instruction. lord lucan advanced his cavalry to the ridge, close to no. redoubt, and while there received from captain nolan an order which as follows:--"lord raglan wishes the cavalry to advance rapidly to the front, follow the enemy, and try to prevent the enemy carrying away the guns; troops of horse artillery may accompany. french cavalry is on your left. immediate." lord lucan gave the order to lord cardigan to advance upon the guns, conceiving that his orders compelled him to do so. the noble earl saw the fearful odds against him. it is a maxim of war, that "cavalry never act without a support." "infantry should be close at hand when cavalry carry guns, as the effect is only instantaneous," and should always be placed on the flank of a line of cavalry. the only support our light cavalry had was the heavy cavalry at a great distance behind them, the infantry and guns being far in the rear. there were no squadrons in column. there was a plain to charge over, before the enemy's guns could be reached, of a mile and a half in length. at ten minutes past eleven our light cavalry brigade advanced. the whole brigade scarcely made one effective regiment, according to the numbers of continental armies; and yet it was more than we could spare. they swept proudly past, glittering in the morning sun in all the pride and splendour of war. they advanced in two lines, quickened their pace as they closed towards the enemy. at the distance of , yards the whole line of the enemy belched forth, from thirty iron mouths, a flood of smoke and flame. the flight was marked by instant gaps in our ranks, by dead men and horses, by steeds flying wounded or riderless across the plain. in diminished ranks, with a halo of steel above their heads, and with a cheer which was many a noble fellow's death-cry, they flew into the smoke of the batteries; but ere they were lost from view the plain was strewed with their bodies. [illustration: plan of balaklava _shewing the_ cavalry action of oct th . table of killed & wounded +-----------------+------------------++------------------+---------+-+ | | officers || men | horses | | | | killed | wounded || killed | wounded | killed | | | | | || | | | | | { british | || | | | | | { | | || | | | | |allies { french | | || | | | | | { | | || | | | | | { turkish | | || | -- | | | +--------+---------++--------+---------+---------+ | | total | | || | | | | +--------+---------++------------------+---------+ | | | | russian killed & wounded | +--------------------------------------------------------------------+ total numbers on the field +-------------------+--------++--------+-+ | | men || guns | | | | || | | | { british | , || | | | { | || | | |allies { french | , || | | | { | || | | | { turkish | || | | | | || | | | russians | , || | | | +--------++--------+ | | total | , || | | | +--------++--------+ | +----------------------------------------+ through the clouds of smoke we could see their sabres flashing as they rode between the guns, cutting down the gunners as they stood. we saw them riding through, returning, after breaking through a column of russians, and scattering them like chaff, when the flank fire of the batteries on the hill swept them down. wounded men and dismounted troopers flying towards us told the sad tale. at the very moment a regiment of lancers was hurled upon their flank. colonel shewell, of the th hussars, whose attention was drawn to them by lieutenant phillips, saw the danger, and rode his few men straight at them. it was as much as our heavy cavalry brigade could do to cover the retreat of the miserable remnants of that band of heroes as they returned to the place they had so lately quitted in all the pride of life. at thirty-five minutes past eleven not a british soldier, except the dead and dying, was left in front of these muscovite guns. the heavy cavalry, in columns of squadrons, moved slowly backwards, covering the retreat of the broken men. the ground was left covered with our men and with hundreds of russians, and we could see the cossacks busy searching the dead. our infantry made a forward movement towards the redoubts after the cavalry came in, and the russian infantry in advance slowly retired towards the gorge; at the same time the french cavalry pushed forward on their right, and held them in check, pushing out a line of skirmishers, and forcing them to withdraw their guns. captain nolan was killed by the first shot fired, as he rode in advance of the first line. lord cardigan received a lance thrust through his clothes. while the affair was going on, the french cavalry made a most brilliant charge at the battery on our left, and cut down the gunners; but they could not get off the guns, and had to retreat with the loss of two captains and fifty men killed and wounded out of their little force of chasseurs. the russians from the redoubt continued to harass us, and the first division were ordered to lie down in two lines. the fourth division, covered by the rising ground, and two regiments of french infantry which had arrived in the valley, followed by artillery, moved onwards to operate on the russian right, already threatened by the french cavalry. the russians threw out skirmishers to meet the french skirmishers, and the french contented themselves with keeping their position. at eleven a.m., the russians, feeling alarmed at our steady advance and at the symptoms of our intention to turn or cut off their right, retired from no. redoubt, which was taken possession of by the allies. at fifteen minutes past eleven they abandoned redoubt no. , blowing up the magazine; and, as we still continued to advance, they blew up and abandoned no. at forty-five minutes past eleven; but, to our great regret, we could not prevent their taking off seven out of nine guns in the works. at forty-eight minutes past eleven, the russian infantry began to retire, a portion crept up the hills behind the st redoubt, which still belonged to them. the artillery on the right of the first division fired shot and rockets at the st redoubt, but could not do much good, nor could the heavy guns of the batteries near the town carry so far as to annoy the russians. at twelve o'clock the greater portion of the french and english moved on, and an accession to the artillery was made by two french batteries, pushed on towards the front of our left. the first division remained still in line along the route to balaklava. from twelve to fifteen minutes passed, not a shot was fired on either side, but the russians gathered up their forces towards the heights over the gorge, and, still keeping their cavalry on the plain, manoeuvred in front on our right. [sidenote: a harmless attack.] at twenty-eight minutes after twelve the allies again got into motion, with the exception of the first division, which moved _en échelon_ towards the opposite hills, keeping their right wing well before balaklava. at forty minutes after twelve, captain calthorpe was sent by lord raglan with orders which altered the disposition of our front, for the french, at one p.m. showed further up on our left. as our object was solely to keep balaklava, we had no desire to bring on a general engagement; and as the russians would not advance, but kept their cavalry in front of the approach to the mountain passes, it became evident the action was over. the cannonade, which began again at a quarter-past twelve, and continued with very little effect, ceased altogether at a quarter-past one. the two armies retained their respective positions. lord raglan continued on the hill-side all day, watching the enemy. it was dark ere he returned to his quarters. with the last gleam of day we could see the sheen of the enemy's lances in their old position in the valley; and their infantry gradually crowned the heights on their left, and occupied the road to the village which is beyond balaklava to the southward. our guards were moving back, as i passed them, and the tired french and english were replaced by a french division, which marched down to the valley at five o'clock. we had officers killed or taken, men killed or taken; officers wounded, men wounded. total killed, wounded, and missing, . horses, killed or missing, ; horses wounded, ; total, . in the night when our guns were taken into sebastopol, there was joy throughout the city, and it was announced that the russians had gained a great victory. a salvo of artillery was fired, and at nine o'clock p.m. a tremendous cannonade was opened against our lines by the enemy. it did no injury. at one p.m. on the th, about , men made an attack on our right flank, but were repulsed by sir de lacy evans's division, with the loss of men killed and wounded. as i was engaged in my tent and did not see the action, i think it right to give the dispatches which relate this brilliant affair. "_lieutenant-general sir de lacy evans to lord raglan._ " nd division, heights of the tchernaya, oct. , . ind "my lord, "yesterday the enemy attacked this division with several columns of infantry supported by artillery. their cavalry did not come to the front. their masses, covered by large bodies of skirmishers, advanced with much apparent confidence. the division immediately formed line in advance of our camp, the left under major-general pennefather, the right under brigadier-general adams. lieutenant-colonel fitzmayer and the captains of batteries (turner and yates) promptly posted their guns and opened fire upon the enemy. "immediately on the cannonade being heard, the duke of cambridge brought up to our support the brigade of guards under major-general bentinck, with a battery under lieutenant-colonel dacres. his royal highness took post in advance of our right to secure that flank, and rendered me throughout the most effective and important assistance. general bosquet, with similar promptitude and from a greater distance, approached our position with five french battalions. sir g. cathcart hastened to us with a regiment of rifles, and sir g. brown pushed forward two guns in co-operation by our left. "the enemy came on at first rapidly, assisted by their guns on the mound hill. our pickets, then chiefly of the th and th regiments, resisted them with remarkable determination and firmness. lieutenant conolly, of the th, greatly distinguished himself, as did captain bayley, of the th, and captain atcherley, all of whom, i regret to say, were severely wounded. serjeant sullivan also displayed at this point great bravery. "in the meantime our eighteen guns in position, including those of the first division, were served with the utmost energy. in half an hour they forced the enemy's artillery to abandon the field. our batteries were then directed with equal accuracy and vigour-upon the enemy's columns, which (exposed also to the close fire of our advanced infancy) soon fell into complete disorder and flight. they were then literally chased by the th and th regiments over the ridges and down towards the head of the bay. so eager was the pursuit, that it was with difficulty major-general pennefather eventually effected the recall of our men. these regiments and the pickets were led gallantly by major mauleverer, major champion, major eman and major hume. they were similarly pursued further towards our right by four companies of the st, led gallantly by lieutenant-colonel the honourable p. herbert, a.q.m.g. the th also contributed. the th were held in reserve. "above prisoners fell into our hands, and about of the enemy's dead were left within or near our position. it is computed that their total loss could scarcely be less than . "our loss, i am sorry to say, has been above , of whom killed, officers wounded. i am happy to say, hopes are entertained that lieutenant conolly will recover, but his wound is dangerous. "i will have the honour of transmitting to your lordship a list of officers, non-commissioned officers, and privates, whose conduct attracted special notice. that of the pickets excited general admiration. "to major-general pennefather and brigadier-general adams i was, as usual, greatly indebted. to lieutenant-colonel dacres, lieutenant-colonel fitzmayer, captains turner, yates, woodhouse, and hamley, and the whole of the royal artillery, we are under the greatest obligation. [sidenote: the general's despatch.] "lieutenant-colonel herbert, a.q.m.g., rendered the division, as he always does, highly distinguished and energetic services. lieutenant-colonel wilbraham, a.a.g., while serving most actively, i regret to say, had a very severe fall from his horse. i beg leave also to recommend to your lordship's favourable consideration the excellent services of captains glasbrook and thompson, of the quartermaster-general's department, the brigade-majors captains armstrong and thackwell, and my personal staff, captains allix, gubbins, and the honourable w. boyle. "i have, &c. "de lacy evans, lieutenant-general." "_lord raglan to the duke of newcastle._ "before sebastopol, oct. , . ind "my lord duke, "i have nothing particular to report to your grace respecting the operations of the siege since i wrote to you on the rd instant. the fire has been somewhat less constant, and our casualties have been fewer, though i regret to say that captain childers, a very promising officer of the royal artillery, was killed on the evening of the rd, and i have just heard that major dalton, of the th, of whom lieutenant-general sir de lacy evans entertained a very high opinion, was killed in the trenches last night. "the enemy moved out of sebastopol on the th with a large force of infantry, cavalry, and artillery, amounting, it is said, to , or , men, and attacked the left of the second division, commanded by lieutenant-general sir de lacy evans, who speedily and energetically repulsed them, assisted by one of the batteries of the first division and some guns of the light division, and supported by a brigade of guards, and by several regiments of the fourth division, and in rear by the french division, commanded by general bosquet, who was most eager in his desire to give him every aid. "i have the honour to transmit a copy of sir de lacy evans's report, which i am sure your grace will read with the highest satisfaction, and i beg to recommend the officers whom he particularly mentions to your protection. "captain bayley of the th, and captain atcherley of the same regiment, and lieutenant conolly of the th, all of whom are severely wounded, appear to have greatly distinguished themselves. "i cannot speak in too high terms of the manner in which lieutenant-general sir de lacy evans met this very serious attack. i had not the good fortune to witness it myself, being occupied in front of balaklava at the time it commenced, and having only reached his position as the affair ceased, but i am certain i speak the sentiments of all who witnessed the operation in saying that nothing could have been better managed, and that the greatest credit is due to the lieutenant-general, whose services and conduct i have before had to bring under your grace's notice. "i inclose the return of the losses the army has sustained since the nd. "i have, &c. "raglan." on the th of october our cavalry abandoned their old camp. they took up ground on the hills on the road to balaklava, close to the rear of the french centre. we thus abandoned the lower road to the enemy. chapter iii. relative position of the rival forces at the end of october--"whistling dick"--sir de lacy evans's accident--no bono johnnies--french batteries again open fire--a weak point--first surprise--commencement of the battle of inkerman--heroic defence--death of sir george cathcart--sir george brown wounded--fearful odds--the guards--casualties--the sandbag battery--superiority of the minié rifle--advance of the french--complete rout of the enemy--inkerman won. the end of october. all waiting for the french. i am not sure but that the french were waiting for us to "_écraser_" some of the obnoxious batteries which played upon their works from ugly enfilading positions. [sidenote: a trick of "whistling dick."] the quarantine fort was opposed to them on their extreme left. then came a long, high, loopholed wall or curtain extending in front of the town from the back of the quarantine fort to the flagstaff battery. the russians had thrown up a very deep and broad ditch in front of this wall, and the french artillery had made no impression on the stonework at the back. the flagstaff battery, however, and all the houses near it, were in ruin; but the earthworks in front of it, armed with at least twenty-six heavy guns, were untouched, and kept up a harassing fire on the french working parties, particularly at certain periods of the day, and at the interval between nine and eleven o'clock at night, when they thought the men were being relieved in the trenches. inside the road battery we could see the russians throwing up a new work, armed with six heavy ships' guns. they had also erected new batteries behind the redan and behind the round tower. the latter was a mass of crumbled stone, but two guns kept obstinately blazing away at our -gun battery from the angle of the earthwork around it, and the redan had not been silenced, though the embrasures and angles of the work were much damaged. the heavy frigate which had been "dodging" our batteries so cleverly again gave us a taste of her quality in the right attack. she escaped from the position in which she lay before where we had placed two -pounders for her, and came out again on the th in a great passion, firing regular broadsides at our battery and sweeping the hill up to it completely. occasionally she varied this amusement with a round or two from -inch mortars. these shells did our works and guns much damage: but the sailors, who were principally treated to these agreeable missiles, got quite accustomed to them. "bill," cries one fellow to another, "look out, here comes 'whistling dick!'" the -inch shell has been thus baptized by them in consequence of the noise it makes. they look up, and their keen, quick eyes discern the globe of iron as it describes its curve aloft. long ere "whistling dick" has reached the ground the blue-jackets are snug in their various hiding-places; but all the power of man could not keep them from peeping out now and then to see if the fusee is still burning. one of them approached a shell which he thought had "gone out;" it burst just as he got close to it, and the concussion dashed him to the ground. he got up, and in his rage, shaking his fist at the spot where the shell had been, he exclaimed, "you ---- deceitful beggar, there's a trick to play me!" sir de lacy evans met with an accident on the th, which compelled him to resign the command to brigadier-general pennefather. his horse fell with him as he was going at a sharp trot; and the shock so weakened him that he was obliged to go on board the _simoom_. the turks, or, as they were called, the "bono johnnies," except by the sailors, who called them "_no_ bono johnnies," were employed in working in the trenches. the first night in captain chapman's attack they worked till ten o'clock at night, when a russian shell came over. they ran away, carrying a portion of our working and covering parties; they were re-formed and worked till eleven o'clock, when they declared it was "the will of heaven they should labour no more that night," and, as they had exerted themselves, it was considered advisable to let them go. they were decimated by dysentery and diarrhoea, and died in swarms. they had no medical officers, and our surgeons were not sufficient in number for our army. nothing could exceed their kindness to their own sick. it was common to see strings of them on the road to balaklava carrying men on their backs down to the miserable shed which served them as a hospital, or rather as a "dead-house." a deserter from the russian cavalry on the th said the russians were without tents or cover; their fare was scanty and miserable, and their sufferings great. the french batteries opened on the st of november. for an hour they fired with vivacity and effect; one battery which enfiladed them on the right was plied with energy, but the remainder, with the exception of the flagstaff redoubt, were silent. the russians had about guns in their new works, reckoning those which had been subject to our fire. the french had guns in position, most of them brass twenty-fours, the others thirty-twos and forty-eights, some ship's eighty-fours not mounted. the french might be seen like patches of moss on the rocks, and the incessant puffs of smoke with constant "pop!" rose along our front from morning to night. the earthworks around the town of balaklava began to assume a formidable aspect. trenches ran across the plains and joined the mounds to each other, so as to afford lines of defence. on the right of the approach the highlanders, in three camps, were placed close to the town, with a sailors' battery of two heavy guns above. higher up, on a very elevated hill-side, the marines and riflemen were encamped. there were four batteries bearing on this approach. the battery on the extreme right, on the road leading over the hills from yalta, contained two -pounder howitzers; the second battery on the right, facing the valley, contained five guns; and the fourth battery, nearest balaklava, contained eight brass howitzers, four , two , and two -pounders. the left approach was commanded by the heights held by the french infantry over the valley, and by the turkish works in front. a formidable redoubt, under the command of captain powell, r.n., overlooked the approaches, armed with heavy ship's guns. the turks had cut up the ground so that it almost resembled a chess-board when viewed from one of the hills. they constructed ditches over valleys which led nowhere, and fortified passes conducting to abstruse little _culs-de-sac_ in the hill sides. from the road to balaklava on the rd, we could see the russians engaged in "hutting" themselves for the winter, and on the rd of november i made a little reconnaissance of my own in their direction. their advanced posts were just lighting bivouac fires for the night. a solitary english dragoon, with the last rays of the setting sun glittering on his helmet, was perched on the only redoubt in our possession, watching the motions of the enemy. two cossacks on similar duty on the second redoubt were leaning on their lances, while their horses browsed the scanty herbage at the distance of about yards from our dragoon sentry. two hundred yards in their rear were two cossack pickets of twenty or thirty men each. a stronger body was stationed in loose order some four or five hundred yards further back. six _pelotons_ of cavalry came next, with field batteries in the intervals. behind each _peloton_ were six strong columns of cavalry in reserve, and behind the intervals six battalions of grey-coated russian infantry lay on their arms. they maintained this attitude day and night, it was said, and occasionally gave us an alert by pushing up the valley. on looking more closely into their position through the glass, it could be seen that they had fortified the high table-land on their right with an earthwork of quadrilateral form, in which i counted sixteen embrasures. [sidenote: covert attack by the russians.] in their rear was the gorge of the black river, closed up by towering rocks and mountain precipices. on their left a succession of slabs (so to speak) of table-land, each higher than the other, and attaining an elevation of , feet. the little village of kamara, perched on the side of one of these slabs, commanded a view of our position, and was no doubt the head-quarters of the army in the valley. the russians were stationed along these heights, and had pushed their lines to the sea on the high-peaked mountain chain to the south-east of our marines. as the valley was connected with sebastopol by the inkerman road, they had thus drawn a _cordon militaire_ around our position on the land side, and we were besieged in our camp, having, however, our excellent friend, the sea, open on the west. on the th november the fire on the place and the return continued. the russians fired about sixty guns per hour, and we replied. the french burrowed and turned up the earth vigorously. a quantity of -inch shot were landed, but, unfortunately, we had no -inch guns for them. two guns were added to the batteries of the right attack, which now contained twenty-three pieces of artillery. whenever i looked at the enemy's earthworks i thought of the woolwich butt. what good had we done by all this expenditure of shot, and shell, and powder? a few guns, when we first came, might have saved incredible toil and labour because they would have rendered it all but impossible for the russians to cast up entrenchments and works before the open entrance to sebastopol. whilst we were yet in hopes of taking the place, and of retiring to the bosphorus for winter quarters, the enemy, animated by the presence of two of the imperial grand dukes, made a vigorous attempt to inflict on the allies a terrible punishment for their audacity in setting foot on the territory of the czar. the battle of inkerman was at hand. it had rained almost incessantly for the greater part of the night of november th, and the early morning gave no promise of any cessation of the heavy showers. as dawn broke the fog and drifting rain were so thick that one could scarcely see two yards. at four o'clock a.m. the bells of the churches in sebastopol were heard ringing drearily through the cold night air, but the occurrence excited no particular attention. about three o'clock a.m., a man of the rd regiment on outlying picket heard the sound of wheels in the valley, but supposed it arose from carts or arabas going into sebastopol by the inkerman road. after the battle he mentioned the circumstance to major bunbury, who rebuked him for neglecting to report it. no one suspected that masses of russians were then creeping up the rugged heights over the valley of inkerman against the undefended flank of the second division, and were bringing into position an overwhelming artillery, ready to play upon their tents at the first glimpse of day. sir de lacy evans had long been aware of the insecurity of his position, and had repeatedly pointed it out. it was the only ground where we were exposed to surprise. ravines and curves in the hill lead up to the crest against which our right flank was resting, without guns, intrenchments, abattis, or defence of any kind. every one admitted the truth of the representations, but indolence, or a false sense of security led to indifference and procrastination. a battery was thrown up of sandbags on the slope of the hill, but sir de lacy evans, thinking that two guns without any works to support them would only invite attack, caused them to be removed as soon as they had silenced the light-house battery, which had been firing on his camp. the action of the th of october might be considered as a _reconnaissance en force_. they were waiting for reinforcements to assault the position where it was vulnerable, speculating on the effects of a surprise of a sleeping camp on a winter's morning. although the arrangements of sir de lacy evans on repulsing the sortie were, as lord raglan declared, "so perfect that they could not fail to insure success," it was evident that a larger force would have forced him to retire from his ground, or to fight a battle in defence of it. no effort was made to intrench the lines, to cast up a single shovel of earth, to cut down the brushwood, or form an abattis. it was thought "not to be necessary." heavy responsibility rests on those whose neglect enabled the enemy to attack where we were least prepared for it, and whose indifference led them to despise precautions which might have saved many lives, and trebled the loss of the enemy. we had nothing to rejoice over, and almost everything to deplore, in the battle of inkerman. we defeated the enemy indeed, but did not advance one step nearer sebastopol. we abashed, humiliated, and utterly routed an enemy strong in numbers, in fanaticism, and in dogged courage, but we suffered a fearful loss when we were not in a position to part with one man. it was a little after five o'clock in the morning, when codrington, in accordance with his usual habit, visited the outlying pickets of his brigade. it was reported that "all was well" along the line. the general entered into conversation with captain pretyman, of the rd regiment, who was on duty, and in the course of it some one remarked it would not be surprising if the russians availed themselves of the gloom to make an attack. the brigadier, an excellent officer, turned his pony round vigilant, and had only ridden a few yards, when a sharp rattle of musketry was heard down the hill on the left of his pickets, and where the pickets of the second division were stationed. codrington at once turned in the direction of the firing, and in a few moments galloped back to camp to turn out his division. the russians were advancing in force. the pickets of the second division had scarcely made out the infantry clambering up the steep hill through a drizzling rain before they were forced to retreat by a close sharp musketry, and driven up the hill, contesting every step, and firing as long as they had a round of ammunition. their grey greatcoats rendered them almost invisible even when close at hand. the pickets of the light division were soon assailed and obliged to fall back. about the time of the advance on our right flank took place a demonstration against balaklava, but the enemy contented themselves with drawing up their cavalry in order of battle, supported by field artillery, at the neck of the valley, in readiness to sweep over the heights and cut off our retreat, should the assault on our right be successful. a steamer with very heavy guns was sent up by night to the head of the creek at inkerman, and threw enormous shells over the hill. [sidenote: a cheering prospect.] everything that could be done to bind victory to their eagles was done by the russian generals. the presence of the grand dukes nicholas and michael, who told them that the czar had issued orders that every frenchman and englishman was to be driven into the sea ere the year closed, cheered the common soldiers, who regard the son of the emperor as an emanation of the divine presence. abundance of a coarser and more material stimulant was found in their flasks; and the priests "blessed" them ere they went forth, and assured them of the aid and protection of the most high. a mass was said. the joys of heaven were offered those who might fall in the holy fight, and the favours of the emperor were promised to those who might survive the bullets of the enemy. the men in camp had just began to struggle with the rain in endeavouring to light their fires, when the alarm was sounded. pennefather, to whom sir de lacy evans had given up for the time the command of the second division, got the troops under arms. adams's brigade, consisting of the st, th, and th regiments, was pushed on to the brow of the hill to check the advance of the enemy by the road from the valley. pennefather's brigade, consisting of the th, th, and th regiments, was posted on their flank. the regiments met a tremendous fire from guns posted on the high grounds. sir george cathcart led such portions of the th, st, th, th, rd, and th regiments as were not employed in the trenches, to the right of the ground occupied by the second division. it was intended that torrens's brigade should move in support of goldie's, but the enemy were in such strength that the whole force of the division, which consisted of only , men, was needed to repel them. codrington, with part of the th, rd, and rd, sought to cover the extreme of our right attack, and the sloping ground towards sebastopol; buller's brigade was brought up to support the second division on the left; jeffrey's with the th, being pushed forward in the bushwood on the ridge of one of the principal ravines. as soon as brown brought up his division, they were under fire from an unseen enemy. the third division, under sir r. england, was in reserve. part of the th, under wilton, and st battalion royals, under bell, were slightly engaged ere the day was over. the duke of cambridge turned out the guards under bentinck, and advanced on the right of the second division to the summit of the hill overlooking the valley of the tchernaya. between the left and the right of the second division there was a ravine, which lost itself on the plateau, close to the road to sebastopol. this road was not protected; only a few scarps were made in it, and the pickets at night were only a short distance in advance. a low breastwork crossed this road at the plateau by the tents of the second division. on arriving at the edge of the plateau on the right ravine, the duke of cambridge saw two columns coming up the steep ground covered with brushwood. the enemy were already in the sandbag redoubt, but his royal highness at once led the guards to the charge. it has been doubted whether any enemy ever stood in conflicts with the bayonet, but here the bayonet was employed in a fight of the most obstinate character. we had been prone to believe that no foe could withstand the british soldier; but at inkerman, not only were desperate encounters maintained with the bayonet, but we were obliged to resist the russian infantry again and again, as they charged us. it was six o'clock before the head-quarter camp was roused by the musketry, and by the report of field guns. soon after seven o'clock a.m. lord raglan rode towards the scene, followed by his staff. as they approached, the steady, unceasing roll told that the engagement was serious. when a break in the fog enabled the russian gunners to see the camp of the second division, the tents were sent into the air or set on fire. gambier was ordered to get up two -pounders to reply to a fire which our light guns were utterly inadequate to meet. as he was exerting himself in his duty, gambier was severely but not dangerously wounded. his place was taken by lieutenant-colonel dickson, and the fire of those two pieces had the most marked effect in deciding the fate of the day. our generals could not see where to go. they could not tell where the enemy were. in darkness and rain they had to lead our lines through thick bushes and thorny brakes, which broke our ranks. every pace was marked by a man down, wounded by an enemy whose position was only indicated by the rattle of musketry and the rush of ball. [sidenote: a brave man killed.] cathcart, advancing from the centre of our position, came to the hill where the guards were engaged, and, after a few words with the duke, led the rd regiment down on the right of the guards into a ravine filled with brushwood, towards the valley of the tchernaya. he perceived, as he did so, that the russians had gained possession of the hill in rear of his men, but his stout heart never failed him for a moment. a deadly volley was poured into our scattered companies. sir george cheered and led them back up the hill, and cathcart fell from his horse close to the russian columns. he rode at the head of the leading company, encouraging them. a cry arose that ammunition was failing. "have you not got your bayonets?" as he lead on his men, another body of the enemy had gained the top of the hill behind them on the right, but it was impossible to tell whether they were friends or foes. the rd halted and fired. they were met by a fierce volley. seymour, who was wounded, got down from his horse to aid his chief, but the enemy rushed down on them, and when our men had driven them back, they lay dead side by side. the rd suffered fearfully. they were surrounded, and won their desperate way up the hill with the loss of nearly men. sir george cathcart's body was recovered with a bullet wound in the head and three bayonet wounds in the body. in this attack where the russians fought with the greatest ferocity, and bayoneted the wounded, colonel swyny, rd, major wynne, th, lieutenant dowling, th, and other officers, met their death. goldie, who was engaged with his brigade on the left of the inkerman road, received the wounds of which he afterwards died about the same time. the fight had not long commenced before it was evident that the russians had received orders to fire at all mounted officers. the regiments did not take their colours into the battle, but the officers, nevertheless, were picked off, and it did not require the colour to indicate their presence. the conflict on the right was equally uncertain and equally bloody. the th in front were surrounded; but four companies of the th, under major straton, charged the russians, and relieved their comrades. further to the right, a fierce contest took place between the guards and dense columns of russians. the guards twice charged them and drove the enemy out of the sandbag battery, when they perceived that the russians had out-flanked them. they were out of ammunition. they had no reserve, and they were fighting against an enemy who stoutly contested every inch of ground, when another russian column appeared in their rear. they had lost fourteen officers; one-half of their number were on the ground. the guards retired. they were reinforced by a wing of the th under major crofton. meanwhile the second division, in the centre of the line, was hardly pressed. the st regiment was exposed to a terrible fire. the th only mustered sixty-four men when paraded at two o'clock, and the whole division when assembled by major eman in rear of their camp after the fight was over numbered only men. at half-past nine o'clock, as lord raglan and his staff were on a knoll, a shell came and exploded on captain somerset's horse; a portion tore off the leather of somerset's overalls. gordon's horse was killed, and it then carried away general strangeway's leg; it hung by a shred of flesh and bit of cloth from the skin. the old general never moved a muscle. he said in a quiet voice, "will any one be kind enough to lift me off my horse?" he was laid on the ground, and at last carried to the rear. he had not strength to undergo an operation, and died in two hours. at one time the russians succeeded in getting up close to the guns of captain wodehouse's and captain turner's batteries in the gloom of the morning. uncertain whether they were friends or foes, our artillerymen hesitated to fire. the russians charged, bore down all resistance, drove away or bayoneted the gunners, and succeeded in spiking four of the guns. the rolling of musketry, the pounding of the guns were deafening. the russians, as they charged up the heights, yelled like demons. the regiments of the fourth division and the marines, armed with the old and much-belauded brown bess, could do nothing against the muscovite infantry, but the minié smote them like the hand of the destroying angel. the disproportion of numbers was, however, too great--our men were exhausted--but at last came help. at last the french appeared on our right. it was after nine o'clock when the french streamed over the brow of the hill on our right--chasseurs d'orleans, tirailleurs, indigènes, zouaves, infantry of the line, and artillery--and fell upon the flank of the russians. on visiting the spot it was curious to observe how men of all arms--english, french, and russians--lay together, showing that the ground must have been occupied by different bodies of troops. the french were speedily engaged, for the russians had plenty of men for all comers. their reserves in the valley and along the road to sebastopol received the shattered columns which were driven down the hill, allowed them to re-form and attack again, or furnished fresh regiments to assault the allies again and again. this reserve seems to have consisted of three large bodies--probably of , men each. the attacking force could not have been less than , men, and it is a very low estimate indeed of the strength of the russians to place it at from , to , men of all arms. some say there were from , to , men engaged on the side of the enemy; but i think that number excessive, and there certainly was not ground enough for them to show front upon. captain burnett, r. n., states that he saw fresh bodies of russians marching up to the attack on three successive occasions, and that their artillery was relieved no less than four times. the minié rifle did our work, and lord hardinge is entitled to the best thanks of the country for his perseverance in arming this expedition as far as he could with every rifle that could be got, notwithstanding the dislike with which the weapon was received by many experienced soldiers. three battalions of the chasseurs d'orleans rushed by, the light of battle on their faces. their trumpets sounded above the din of battle, and when we watched their eager dash on the flank of the enemy we knew the day was safe. they were followed by a battalion of chasseurs indigènes. at twelve o'clock they were driven pell-mell down the hill towards the valley, where pursuit was impossible, as the roads were commanded by artillery. the day, which cleared up about eleven, again became obscured. rain and fog set in, and we could not pursue. we formed in front of our lines, the enemy, covering his retreat by horse on the slopes, near the careening bay, and by artillery fire, fell back upon the works, and across the inkerman bridge. our cavalry, the remnant of the light brigade, were moved into a position where it was hoped they might be of service, but they were too few to attempt anything, and lost several horses and men. cornet cleveland, was struck by a piece of shell and expired. general canrobert, who was wounded in the early part of the day, directed the french, ably seconded by general bosquet, whose devotion was noble. nearly all his escort were killed, wounded, or unhorsed. the russians, during the action, made a sortie on the french, and traversed two parallels before they were driven back; as they retired they fired mines inside the flagstaff fort, afraid that the french would enter pell-mell after them. the last attempt of the russians took place at about thirty-five minutes past twelve. at forty minutes past one dickson's two guns had smashed up the last battery of their artillery which attempted to stand, and they limbered up, leaving five tumbrils and one gun-carriage on the field. [sidenote: survey of the battle-field.] chapter iv. the battle-field--review of the struggle--the dead and the dying--harrowing scene--firing on burying parties--the french at inkerman--number of the russians--losses--"hair-breadth scapes"--brutal conduct of the russians--how the victory was won--use of revolvers--want of ammunition. i went carefully over the position on the th, and as i examined it, i was amazed at the noble tenacity of our men. the tents of the second division were pitched on the verge of the plateau which we occupied, and from the right flank of the camp the ground rises gently for two or three hundred yards to a ridge covered with scrubby brushwood, so thick that it was sometimes difficult to force a horse through it. the bushes grew in tufts, and were about four feet high. on gaining the ridge you saw below you the valley of the tchernaya, a green tranquil slip of meadow, with a few white houses dotting it at intervals, some farm enclosures, and tufts of green trees. from the ridge the hill-side descended rapidly in a slope of at least feet. the brushwood was very thick upon it, and at times almost impervious. at the base of this slope the road wound to inkerman, and thence to sebastopol. the sluggish stream stole quietly through it towards the head of the harbour, which was shut out from view by the projections of the ridge to the north. at the distance of a quarter of a mile across the valley the sides of the mountains opposite to the ridge of the plateau on which our camp stood rose abruptly in sheer walls of rock, slab after slab, to the height of several hundred feet. a road wound among those massive precipices up to the ruins of inkerman--a city of the dead and gone and unknown--where houses, and pillared mansions, and temples, were hewn out of the face of the solid rock by a generation whose very name the most daring antiquaries have not guessed at. this road passed along the heights, and dipped into the valley of inkerman, at the neck of the harbour. the russians planted guns along it to cover the retreat of their troops, and at night the lights of their fires were seen glimmering through the window and door places from the chambers carved out from the sides of the precipice. looking down from the ridge, these ruins were, of course, to one's left hand. to the right the eye followed the sweep of the valley till it was closed in from view by the walls of the ridge, and by the mountains which hemmed in the valley of balaklava, and one could just catch, on the side of the ridge, the corner of the nearest french earthwork, thrown up to defend our rear, and cover the position towards balaklava. below, to the right of the ridge, at the distance of feet from the top towards the valley, was the sandbag, or two-gun battery, intended for two guns, which had been withdrawn a few days before, after silencing a russian battery at inkerman, because sir de lacy evans conceived that they would only invite attack, and would certainly be taken, unconnected as they would have been with any line of defence. on the left hand, overlooking this battery, was a road from balaklava right across our camp through the second division's tents on their front, which ran over the ridge and joined the upper road to inkerman. some of the russian columns had climbed up by the ground along this road; others had ascended on the left, in front and to the right of the sandbag battery. litter-bearers, french and english, dotted the hillside, hunting through the bushes for the dead or dying, toiling painfully up with a burden for the grave, or some object for the doctor's care. our men had acquired a shocking facility in their diagnosis. a body was before you; there was a shout, "come here, boys, i see a russian!" (or "a frenchman," or "one of our fellows!") one of the party advances, raises the eyelid, peers into the eye, shrugs his shoulders, says "he's dead, he'll wait," and moves back to the litter; some pull the feet, and arrive at equally correct conclusions by that process. the dead were generally stripped of all but their coats. the camp followers and blackguards from balaklava, and seamen from the ships, anxious for trophies, carried off all they could take from the field. parties of men busy at work. groups along the hill-side forty or fifty yards apart. you find them around a yawning trench, thirty feet in length by twenty feet in breadth, and six feet in depth. at the bottom lie packed with exceeding art some thirty or forty corpses. the grave-diggers stand chatting, waiting for arrivals to complete the number. they speculate on the appearance of the body which is being borne towards them. "it's corporal----, of the--th, i think," says one. "no! it's my rear rank man, i can see his red hair plain enough," and so on. they discuss the merits or demerits of dead sergeants or comrades. "well, he was a hard man: many's the time i was belled through him!" or "poor mick! he had fifteen years' service--a better fellow never stepped." at last the number in the trench is completed. the bodies are packed as closely as possible. some have still upraised arms, in the attitude of taking aim; their legs stick up through the mould; others are bent and twisted like fantoccini. inch after inch the earth rises upon them, and they are left "alone in their glory." no, not alone; for the hopes and affections of hundreds of human hearts lie buried with them! for about one mile and a half in length by half a mile in depth the hill-side offered such sights as these. upwards of , russians were buried there. [sidenote: watching a treacherous enemy.] as i was standing at the sandbag battery, talking to some officers of the guards, who were describing their terrible losses, colonel cunynghame and lieutenant-colonel wilbraham of the quarter-master-general's staff rode up to superintend the burial operations. the instant their cocked hats were seen above the ridge a burst of smoke from the head of the harbour, and a shell right over us, crashed into the hill-side, where our men were burying the russian dead! colonel cunynghame told me lord raglan had sent in a flag of truce that morning to inform the russians that the parties on the hill-side were burying the dead. as he was speaking a second shell came close and broke up our party. it is quite evident that the society of two officers in cocked hats, on horseback, is not the safest in the world. we all three retired. during the battle of inkerman the french were drawn up in three bodies of about , men each on the ridge of the hills over balaklava, watching the movements of the russian cavalry in the plain below. as i came up the enemy were visible, drawn out into six divisions, with the artillery and infantry ready to act, and horses saddled and bridled. it was evident they were waiting for the signal to dash up the hills in our rear and sabre our flying regiments. they had a long time to wait! the french lines below us were lined by zouaves; the gunners in the redoubts, with matches lighted, were prepared to send their iron messengers through the ranks of the horse the moment they came within range. behind the french , "bono johnnies" were drawn up in columns as a reserve, and several turkish regiments were also stationed under the heights on the right, in a position to act in support should their services be required. the french were on their march from the sea to our assistance, and the black lines of their regiments streaked the grey plain as they marched double-quick towards the scene of action. the chasseurs d'afrique on their grey arabs swept about the slopes of the hills to watch an opportunity for a dash. our own cavalry were drawn up by their encampments, the heavy brigade on the left, the light brigade in the centre of our position. the latter were out of fire for some time, but an advance to the right exposed them to shot and shell. mr. cleveland received a mortal wound, and several men and horses were injured later in the day. the heavy cavalry were employed in protecting our left and rear. the column on the extreme russian right, which came on our position at the nearest point to sebastopol, was mainly resisted by the fourth division and the marines. the russian centre was opposed by the second division and the light division. the guards were opposed to the third or left column of the russians. the fourth division in a short time lost all its generals--cathcart, goldie and torrens--killed or mortally wounded, and , or more than one quarter of its strength, put _hors de combat_. the second division came out of action with six field officers and twelve captains; major farrer, of the th regiment, was senior, and took command of the division. sir de lacy evans was unwell on board ship when the fight began, but he managed to ride up to the front, and i saw him on the battle-field in the thick of the fight. captain allix, one of his aides-de-camp, was killed; captain gubbins, another, was wounded. the brigade of the guards lost fourteen officers killed; the wonder is that any escaped the murderous fire. the alma did not present anything like the scene round the sandbag battery. upwards of , dead and dying russians laid behind and around and in front of it, and many a tall english grenadier was there amid the frequent corpses of chasseur and zouave. at one time, while the duke was rallying his men, a body of russians came at him. mr. wilson, surgeon, th hussars, attached to the brigade, perceived the danger of his royal highness, and with great gallantry assembled a few guardsmen, led them to the charge, and dispersed the russians. the duke's horse was killed. at the close of the day he called mr. wilson in front and thanked him for having saved his life. [sidenote: an interesting colloquy.] book iv. preparations for a winter campaign--the hurricane--the condition of the army--the trenches in winter--balaklava--the commissariat and medical staff. chapter i. formation of the russian army--difficulties explained--appearance of the men--liège muskets--bayonets--killing the wounded--glories of inkerman--commissary filder's merits--hardships of the campaign--officers in rags--hurricane of the th of november--a mighty and strong wind--tents dislodged--a medical officer in difficulty--horrors of the scene--sleet and snow--officers in distress--bad news from balaklava--a lull. from a deserter at head-quarters i gleaned some particulars respecting the formation of the russian army. it had long been a puzzle to ignorant people like ourselves why the russian soldiers had numbers on their shoulder-straps different from those on their buttons or on their caps. in recording my observations of the appointments of the men killed at the alma, i remarked that certain "regiments" were present, judging by the shoulder straps. it will appear that these numbers referred not to regiments, but to divisions. so let our pole, one of the few who came in after inkerman, speak for himself through an interpreter:-- "what does the number on the strap on your shoulder indicate?" "it is no. . it shows that i belong to the th division of the army." "who commands it?" "i don't know--a general." "what does the number on your buttons mean?" "it means that i belong to regt. of the th division." "what does the number on your cap, with p after it, mean?" "it indicates that i belong to the th rota of my polk." "what does a rota mean?" "it means a company of men." "how many rotas are in a polk?" "there are sixteen rotas in each polk." "and how many polks are in a division?" "there are four polks in a division." "if that is so, why have you on your buttons?" (a pause, a stupid look.)--"i don't know." finding our friend was getting into that helpless state of confusion into which the first glimpses of decimal fractions are wont to plunge the youthful arithmetician, we left him. now let us combine our information, and see what, according to this polish authority, a russian division consists of. it stands thus:-- rota = men. rotas = polk = , " polks = division = , " one division of infantry. the men resembled those we met at the alma, and were clad in the same way. we saw no infantry with helmets, however, and our soldiers were disappointed to find the russians had, in most cases, come out without their knapsacks. their persons were very cleanly, and the whiteness of their faces and of their feet were remarkable. few of them had socks, and the marauders had removed their boots whenever they were worth taking. our soldiers and sailors, as well as the french, looked out with avidity for a good pair of russian boots, and were quite adepts in fitting themselves to a nicety by their simple mode of measurement--viz., placing their feet against those of the dead men. many had medals, "the campaign of - in hungary and transylvania." they were generally carried inside tin cases about their persons. officers and men wore the same long grey coats, the former being alone distinguishable by the stripe of gold lace on the shoulder. their uniform coats, of dark green with white facings and red and yellow trimmings, were put on underneath the great coat. a considerable number of the liège double-grooved rifles were found on the field. many of the muskets bore the date of , and had been altered into detonators. i remember a juvenile superstition in my sparrow-killing days, that such guns "shot stronger" than either flint or detonator, _pur sang_. every part of the arm was branded most carefully. the word "bak" occurs on each separate part of it. the imperial eagle was on the brass heelplate, and on the lock "[cyrillic: tula] (tula), ." the bayonets were long, but not well steeled. they bent if rudely handled or struck with force against the ground. the long and polished gun-barrels were made of soft, but tough iron. they could be bent to an acute angle without splitting. from the trigger-guard of each musket a thong depended, fastened to a cap of stout leather, to put over the nipple in wet weather. this seemed a simple and useful expedient. the devotion of the men to their officers was remarkable. how else was it that we seldom found either dead or wounded officers on the ground? it was again asserted--and i fear with truth--that the wounded russians killed many of our men as they passed. for this reason our soldiers smashed the stock and bent the barrels. some carried rifles, and heavy, thick swords with a saw-back, which they sold to the captains and sailors of merchantmen. medals, ribands, the small brass crucifixes, and pictures of saints, and charms found upon the dead, were also in great request. [sidenote: the commissariat.] if it is considered that the soldiers who met these furious columns of the czar were the remnants of three british divisions, which scarcely numbered , men; that they were hungry and wet, and half-famished; that they belonged to a force which was generally "out of bed" four nights out of seven; enfeebled by sickness, by severe toil; that among them were men who had previously lain out for forty-eight hours in the trenches at a stretch--it will be readily admitted that never was a more brilliant contest maintained by our army. up to the beginning of this winter commissary filder deserved credit for his exertions in supplying our army. no army, i believe, was ever so well fed under such very exceptional circumstances. from balaklava alone came our daily bread; no man had up to this time been without his pound of biscuit, his pound and a half or a pound of beef or mutton, his quota of coffee, tea, rice, and sugar, his gill of excellent rum, for any one day, excepting through his own neglect. we drew our hay, our corn, our beef, our mutton, our biscuits, spirits, and necessaries of all kinds from beyond sea. eupatoria supplied us with cattle and sheep to a moderate extent; but the commissariat of the army depended on sea carriage. nevertheless, large as were our advantages in the excellence and regularity of the supply of food, the officers and men had to undergo great privations. the oldest soldiers never witnessed a campaign in which generals were obliged to live in tents in winter, and officers who passed their youth in the peninsular war, and had seen a good deal of fighting in various parts of the world, were unanimous in declaring that they never knew of a war in which the officers were exposed to such hardships. they landed without anything, marched beside their men, slept by them, fought by them, and died by them. they laid down at night in the clothes which they wore during the day; many delicately-nurtured youths never changed shirts or shoes for weeks together. "rank and fashion," under such circumstances, fell a prey to parasitical invasion--an evil to which the other incidents of roughing it are of little moment. the officers were in rags. guardsmen, who were "the best style of men" in the parks, turned out in coats and trousers and boots all seams and patches, mended with more vigour than neatness, and our smartest cavalry men were models of ingenious sewing and stitching. the men could not grumble at old coats, boots, or shoes when they saw their officers no better off than themselves. we had "soldiering with the gilding off," and many a young gentleman would be cured of his love of arms if he could but have had one day's experience. fortunate it is for us that we have youth on which we can rely, and that there are in england men "who delight in war," who will be ever ready to incur privation and danger at her summons. as to young ladies suffering from "scarlet fever,"--who are thinking of heroes and warriors, singing of "crowning conquerors' brows with flowers," and wishing for "arab steeds and falchions bright"--if they could but for one instant have stood beside me, and gazed into one of the pits where some thirty "clods of the valley," decked with scarlet and blue, with lace and broidery, were lying side by side, staring up at heaven with their sightless orbs, as they were about to be consigned to the worm, they would have joined in prayer for the advent of that day--if come it ever may--when war shall be no more, and when the shedding of blood shall cease. after inkerman there was a period of collapse in the army. the siege languished. our strength was wasting away--men's spirits failed--the future looked dark and uncertain. it happened that we had a forewarning of what might be expected. on friday, the th of november, just four days ere the fatal catastrophe which caused such disasters occurred, i was on board the _jason_ captain lane, which happened to be lying outside, and as it came on to blow, i could not return to the shore or get to the camp that evening. the ship was a noble steamer, well manned and ably commanded, but ere midnight i would have given a good deal to have been on land; for the gale setting right into the bay, raised a high wild sea, which rushed up the precipices in masses of water and foam, astonishing by their force and fury; and the strain on the cable was so great that the captain had to ease it off by steaming gently a-head against the wind. the luckless _prince_, which had lost two anchors and cables on bringing up a day or two before, was riding near the _agamemnon_, and adopted the same expedient; and, of the numerous vessels outside, and which in so short a time afterwards were dashed into fragments against those cruel rocks, the aspect of which was calculated to thrill the heart of the boldest seaman with horror, there were few which did not drag their anchors and draw towards the iron coast which lowered with death on its brow upon us. guns of distress boomed through the storm, and flashes of musketry pointed out for a moment a helpless transport which seemed tossing in the very centre of the creaming foam of those stupendous breakers, the like of which i never beheld, except once, when i saw the atlantic running riot against the cliffs of moher. but the gale soon moderated--for that once--and wind and sea went down long before morning. however, sir edmund lyons evidently did not like his berth, for the _agamemnon_ went round to kamiesch on sunday morning, and ordered the _firebrand_, which was lying outside, to go up to the fleet at the katcha. as to the _prince_, and the luckless transports, they were allowed, nay, ordered, to stand outside till the hurricane rushed upon them. on the th of november came a new calamity--the hurricane. i had been in a listless state between waking and sleeping, listening to the pelting of the rain against the fluttering canvas of the tent, or dodging the streams of water which flowed underneath it, saturating blankets, and collecting on the mackintosh sheet in pools, when gradually i became aware that the sound of the rain and the noise of its heavy beating on the earth had been swallowed up by the roar of the wind, and by the flapping of tents outside. presently the sides of the canvas, tucked in under big stones, began to rise, permitting the wind to enter and drive sheets of rain right into one's face; the pegs indicated painful indecision and want of firmness of purpose. the glimpses afforded of the state of affairs outside were little calculated to produce a spirit of resignation to the fate which threatened our frail shelter. the ground had lost solidity. mud--nothing but mud--flying before the wind and drifting as though it were rain, covered the face of the earth. the storm-fiend was coming, terrible and strong as when he smote the bark of the ancient mariner. the pole of the tent bent like a salmon-rod; the canvas tugged at the ropes, the pegs yielded. a startling crack! i looked at my companions, who seemed determined to shut out all sound by piling as many clothes as they could over their heads. a roar of wind again, the pole bent till the "crack" was heard again. "get up, smith! up with you; eber! the tent is coming down!" the doctor rose from beneath his _tumulus_ of clothes. now, if there was anything in which the doctor put confidence more than another, it was his tent-pole; he believed that no power of Æolus could ever shake it. there was normally a bend in the middle of it, but he used to argue, on sound anatomical, mathematical, and physical principles, that the bend was an improvement. he looked on the pole, as he looked at all things, blandly, put his hand out, and shook it. "why, man," said he, reproachfully, "it's all right--_that_ pole would stand for ever," and then he crouched and burrowed under his bed-clothes. scarcely had he given that last convulsive heave of the blankets which indicates perfect comfort, when a harsh screaming sound, increasing in vehemence as it approached, struck us with horror. as it neared us, we heard the snapping of tent-poles and the sharp crack of timber. on it came, "a mighty and a strong wind." it struck our tent! the pole broke off short in the middle, as if it were glass; in an instant we were half stifled by the folds of the wet canvas, which beat us about the head with fury. breathless and half blind, i struggled for the exit, and crept out into the mud. such a sight met the eye! the whole head-quarters' camp was beaten flat to the earth, and the unhappy occupants of tents were rushing in all directions in chase of their effects, or holding on by the walls, as they strove to make their way to the roofless barns and stables. [sidenote: a mimic volcano.] three marquees stood the blast--general estcourt, sir john burgoyne, and major pakenham's. the general had built a cunning wall of stones around his marquee, but ere noon it had fallen before the wind; the major's shared the same fate still earlier in the day. next to our tent was the marquee of captain de morel, aide-de-camp to adjutant-general estcourt, fluttering on the ground, and, as i looked, the canvas was animated by some internal convulsion--a mimic volcano appeared to be opening, its folds assumed fantastic shapes, tossing wildly in the storm. the phenomenon was accounted for by the apparition of the owner fighting his way against the wind, which was bent on tearing his scanty covering from his person; at last he succeeded in making a bolt of it and squattered through the mud to the huts. dr. hall's tent was levelled, the principal medical officer of the british army might be seen in an unusual state of perturbation and nudity, seeking for his garments. brigadier estcourt, with mien for once disturbed, held on, as sailors say, "like grim death to a backstay," by one of the shrouds of his marquee. captain chetwode was tearing through the rain and dirt like a maniac after a cap, which he fancied was his own, and which he found, after a desperate run, to be his sergeant's. the air was filled with blankets, hats, great coats, little coats, and even tables and chairs! mackintoshes, quilts, india-rubber tubs, bedclothes, sheets of tent-canvas went whirling like leaves in the gale towards sebastopol. the barns and commissariat sheds were laid bare at once. the shingle roofs of the outhouses were torn away and scattered over the camp; a portion of the roof of lord raglan's house was carried off to join them. large arabas, or waggons, close to us were overturned; men and horses were rolled over and over; the ambulance waggons were turned topsy-turvy; a large table in captain chetwode's was whirled round and round till the leaf flew off, and came to mother earth deprived of a leg and seriously injured. the marines and rifles on the cliffs over balaklava lost everything; the storm hurled them across the bay, and the men had to cling to the earth with all their might to avoid the same fate. looking over towards the hill occupied by the second division, we saw the ridges, the plains, and undulating tracts between the ravines, so lately smiling in the autumn sun, with row after row of neat white tents, bare and desolate, as black as ink. right in front the camp of the chasseurs d'afrique presented an appearance of equal desolation. their little _tentes d'abri_ were involved in the common ruin. one-half of our cavalry horses broke loose. the french swarmed in all directions, seeking for protection against the blast. our men, more sullen and resolute, stood in front of their levelled tents, or collected in groups before their late camps. woe to the russians had they come on that day, for, fiercer than the storm and stronger than all its rage, the british soldier would have met and beaten their battalions. the cry was, all throughout this dreadful day, "let us get at the town; better far that we should have a rush at the batteries and be done with it, than stand here to be beaten by a storm." [sidenote: flying from the storm.] let the reader imagine the bleakest common in all england, the wettest bog in all ireland, or the dreariest muir in all scotland, overhung by leaden skies, and lashed by a tornado of sleet, snow, and rain--a few broken stone walls and roofless huts dotting it here and there, roads turned into torrents of mud and water, and then let him think of the condition of men and horses in such a spot on a november morning, suddenly deprived of their frail covering, and exposed to bitter cold, with empty stomachs, without the remotest prospect of obtaining food or shelter. think of the men in the trenches, the covering parties, the patrols, and outlying pickets and sentries, who had passed the night in storm and darkness, and who returned to their camp only to find fires out and tents gone. these were men on whose vigilance the safety of our position depended, and many of whom had been for eight or ten hours in the rain and cold, who dared not turn their backs for a moment, who could not blink their eyes. these are trials which demand the exercise of the soldier's highest qualities. a benighted sportsman caught in a storm thinks he is much to be pitied, as, fagged, drenched and hungry, he plods along the hillside, and stumbles about in the dark towards some uncertain light; but he has no enemy worse than the wind and rain to face, and in the first hut he reaches repose and comfort await him. our officers and soldiers, after a day like this, had to descend to the trenches again at night, look out for a crafty foe, to labour in the mire and ditches of the works; what fortitude and high courage to do all this without a murmur, and to bear such privations and hardships with unflinching resolution! but meantime--for one's own experience gives the best idea of the suffering of others--our tent was down; one by one we struggled out into the mud, and left behind us all our little household gods, to fly to the lee of a stone wall, behind which were cowering french and british of all arms and conditions. major blane was staggering from the ruins of his marquee, under a press of greatcoat, bearing up for the shelter of pakenham's hut. the hospital tents were all down, the sick had to share the fate of the robust. on turning towards the ridge on which the imposing wooden structures of the french were erected, a few scattered planks alone met the eye. the wounded of the th november, who to the number of several hundred were in these buildings, had to bear the inclemency of the weather as well as they could. several succumbed to its effects. the guard tents were down, the occupants huddled together under the side of a barn, their arms covered with mud, lying where they had been thrown from the "pile" by wind. the officers had fled to the commissariat stores near lord raglan's, and there found partial shelter. inside, overturned carts, dead horses, and groups of shivering men--not a tent left standing. mr. cookesley had to take refuge, and was no doubt glad to find it, amid salt pork and rum puncheons. with chattering teeth and shivering limbs each man looked at his neighbour. lord raglan's house, with the smoke streaming from the chimneys, and its white walls standing out freshly against the black sky, was the "cynosure of neighbouring eyes." lord lucan, meditative as marius amid the ruins of carthage, was sitting up to his knees in mud, amid the wreck of his establishment. lord cardigan was sick on board his yacht in the harbour of balaklava. sir george brown was lying wounded on board the _agamemnon_, off kamiesch bay; sir de lacy evans, sick and shaken, was on board the _sanspareil_, in balaklava; general bentinck, wounded, was on board the _caradoc_. the duke of cambridge was passing a terrible time of it in the _retribution_, in all the horrors of that dreadful scene, off balaklava. pennefather, england, campbell, adams, buller--in fact all the generals and officers--were as badly off as the meanest private. the only persons near us whose tents weathered the gale were mr. romaine, deputy judge-advocate-general; lieutenant-colonel dickson, artillery; and captain woodford. the first had pitched his tent cunningly within the four walls of an outhouse, and secured it by guys and subtle devices of stonework. they were hospitable spots, those tents--oases in the desert of wretchedness; many a poor half-frozen wanderer was indebted almost for life to the shelter they afforded. while reading this, pray never lose sight of the fact, as you sit over your snug coal-fires at home, that fuel was nearly all gone, and that there were savage fights among the various domestics, even in fine weather, for a bit of shaving or a fragment of brushwood. never forget that the storm raged from half-past six o'clock till late in the day, with the fury of azraël, vexing and buffeting every living thing, and tearing to pieces all things inanimate. now and then a cruel gleam of sunshine shot out of a rift in the walls of clouds and rendered the misery of the scene more striking. gathered up under the old wall, we could not but think with anxious hearts of our fleet of transports off balaklava and the katcha. alas! we had too much reason for our anxiety. towards ten o'clock matters were looking more hopeless and cheerless than ever, when a welcome invitation came through the storm to go over to the shelter of romaine's tent. our first duty was to aid the owner in securing the pole with "a fish" of stout spars. then we aided in passing out a stay from the top of the pole to the wall in front. a cup of warm tea was set before each of us, provided by some inscrutable chemistry, and with excellent ration biscuit and some butter, a delicious meal, as much needed as it was unexpected, was made by my friends and myself, embittered only by the ever-recurring reflection, "god help us, what will become of the poor fellows in the trenches?" and there we sat, thinking and talking of the soldiers and of the fleet hour after hour, while the wind and rain blew and fell with the full sense of the calamity with which providence was pleased to visit us. towards twelve o'clock the wind, which had been blowing from the south-west, chopped round more to the west, and became colder. sleet fell first, and then a snow-storm, which clothed the desolate landscape in white, till the tramp of men seamed it with trails of black mud. the mountain ranges assumed their winter garb. french soldiers flocked about head-quarters, and displayed their stock of sorrows to us. their tents were all down and blown away--no chance of recovering them; their bread was "_tout mouillé et gâté_," their rations gone to the dogs. the african soldiers seemed particularly miserable. several of them were found dead next morning outside our cavalry camp. two men in the th fusileers, one man in the rd, and one man of the nd battalion rifle brigade, were found dead, "starved to death" by the cold. about forty horses died, and many never recovered. [sidenote: a refuge from the storm.] at two o'clock the wind went down a little, and the intervals between the blasts of the gale became more frequent and longer. we took advantage of one of these halcyon moments to trudge to the wreck of my tent, and having borrowed another pole, with the aid of a few men we got it up muddy and wet; but it was evident that no dependence could be placed upon it; the floor was a puddle, and the bed and clothes dripping. towards evening there were many tents re-pitched along the lines of our camps, though they were but sorry resting-places. it was quite out of the question to sleep in them. what was to be done? there was close at hand the barn used as a stable for the horses of the th hussars, and eber macraghten and i waded across the sea of nastiness which lay between us and it, tacked against several gusts, fouled one or two soldiers in a different course, grappled with walls and angles of outhouses, nearly foundered in big horse-holes, bore sharply up round a corner, and anchored at last in the stable. what a scene it was! the officers of the escort were crouching over some embers; along the walls were packed some thirty or forty horses and ponies, shivering with cold, and kicking and biting with spite and bad humour. the hussars, in their long cloaks, stood looking on the flakes of snow, which drifted in at the doorway or through the extensive apertures in the shingle roof. soldiers of different regiments crowded about the warm corners, and frenchmen of all arms, and a few turks, joined in the brotherhood of misery, lighted their pipes at the scanty fire, and sat close for mutual comfort. the wind blew savagely through the roof, and through chinks in the mud walls and window-holes. the building was a mere shell, as dark as pitch, and smelt as it ought to do--an honest, unmistakeable stable--improved by a dense pack of moist and mouldy soldiers. and yet it seemed to us a palace! life and joy were inside, though melancholy frenchmen would insist on being pathetic over their own miseries--and, indeed, they were many and great--and after a time the eye made out the figures of men huddled up in blankets, lying along the wall. they were the sick, who had been in the hospital marquee, and who now lay moaning and sighing in the cold; but our men were kind to them, as they are always to the distressed, and not a pang of pain did they feel which care or consideration could dissipate. a staff officer, colonel wetherall, dripping with rain, came in to see if he could get any shelter for draughts of the rd and st regiments, which had just been landed at kamiesch, but he soon ascertained the hopelessness of his mission so far as our quarters were concerned. the men were packed into another shed, "like herrings in a barrel." having told us, "there is terrible news from balaklava--seven vessels lost, and a number on shore at the katcha," and thus made us more gloomy than ever, the officer went on his way, as well as he could, to look after his draughts. in the course of an hour an orderly was sent off to balaklava with dispatches from head-quarters; but, after being absent for three-quarters of an hour, the man returned, fatigued and beaten, to say he could not get his horse to face the storm. in fact, it would have been all but impossible for man or beast to have made headway through the hurricane. we sat in the dark till night set in--not a soul could stir out. nothing could be heard but the howling of the wind, the yelping of wild dogs driven into the enclosures, and the shrill neighings of terrified horses. at length a candle-end was stuck into a horn lantern, to keep it from the wind--a bit of ration pork and some rashers of ham, done over the wood fire, furnished an excellent dinner, which was followed by a glass or horn of hot water and rum--then a pipe, and as it was cold and comfortless, we got to bed--a heap of hay on the stable floor, covered with our clothes, and thrown close to the heels of a playful grey mare, who had strong antipathies to her neighbours, a mule and an arab horse, and spent the night in attempting to kick in their ribs. amid smells, and with incidents impossible to describe or allude to more nearly, we went to sleep in spite of a dispute between an irish sergeant of hussars and a yorkshire corporal of dragoons as to the comparative merits of light and heavy cavalry, with digressions respecting the capacity of english and irish horseflesh, which, by the last we heard of them, seemed likely to be decided by a trial of physical strength on the part of the disputants. throughout the day there had been very little firing from the russian batteries--towards evening all was silent except the storm. in the middle of the night, however, we were all awoke by one of the most tremendous cannonades we had ever heard, and, after a time, the report of a rolling fire of musketry was borne upon the wind. looking eagerly in the direction of the sound, we saw the flashes of the cannon through the chinks in the roof, each distinct by itself, just as a flash of lightning is seen in all its length and breadth through a crevice in a window shutter. it was a sortie on the french lines. the cannonade lasted for half-an-hour, and gradually waxed fainter. in the morning we heard that the russians had been received with an energy which quickly made them fly to the cover of their guns. chapter ii. a change for the better--visit to balaklava--devastation--affair of pickets--newspaper correspondents in the crimea--difficulties they had to encounter--false hopes--a smart affair--death of lieutenant tryon--flattering testimonies--want of generals--attack on oupatoria--affair between the chasseurs de vincennes and the russian riflemen--the ovens--a deserter's story--movements of the russians--a reconnaissance--suffering caused by hard work and scarcity of supplies--warnings--cholera--dreadful scenes amongst the turks in balaklava. [sidenote: balaklava after the storm.] with the morning of the th of november, came a bright cold sky, and our men, though ankle deep in mud cheered up when they beheld the sun once more. the peaks of the hills and mountain sides were covered with snow. as rumours of great disasters reached us from balaklava, i after breakfasting in my stable, made my way there as well as i could. the roads were mere quagmires. another day's rain would have rendered them utterly impassable, and only for swimming or navigation. dead horses and cattle were scattered all over the country, and here and there a sad little procession, charged with the burden of some inanimate body, might be seen wending its way slowly towards the hospital marquees, which had been again pitched. in coming by the french lines i observed that the whole of the troops were turned out, and were moving about and wheeling in column to keep their blood warm. they had just been mustered, and it was gratifying to learn that the rumours respecting lost men were greatly exaggerated. our men were engaged in trenching and clearing away mud. the russians in the valley were very active, and judging from the state of the ground and the number of loose horses, they must have been very miserable also. turning down by captain powell's battery, where the sailors were getting their arms in order, i worked through ammunition mules and straggling artillery-wagons towards the town. balaklava was below--its waters thronged with shipping--not a ripple on their surface. it was almost impossible to believe that but twelve hours before ships were dragging their anchors, drifting, running aground,, and smashing each other to pieces in that placid loch. the whitewashed houses in the distance were as clean-looking as ever, and the old ruined fortress on the crags above frowned upon the sea, and reared its walls and towers aloft, uninjured by the storm. on approaching the town, however, the signs of the tempest of the day before grew and increased at every step. at the narrow neck of the harbour, high and dry, three large boats were lying, driven inland several yards; the shores were lined with trusses of compressed hay which had floated out of the wrecks outside the harbour, and pieces of timber, beams of wood, masts and spars, formed natural rafts, which were stranded on the beach or floated about among the shipping. the old tree which stood near the guard-house at the entrance to the town was torn up, and in its fall had crushed the house into ruin. the soldiers of the guard were doing their best to make themselves comfortable within the walls. the fall of this tree, which had seen many winters, coupled with the fact that the verandahs and balconies of the houses and a row of very fine acacia trees on the beach were blown down, corroborate the statement so generally made by the inhabitants, that they had never seen or heard of such a hurricane in their life time, although there was a tradition among some that once in thirty or forty years such visitations occurred along this coast. the _city of london_, captain cargill, was the only vessel which succeeded in getting out to sea and gaining a good offing during the hurricane of the th, and the captain told me, in all his experience (and as an old aberdeen master, he has passed some anxious hours at sea) he never knew so violent a gale. there was an affair of pickets during the night of the th between the french and the russians, in which a few men were wounded on both sides, and which was finished by the retreat of the russians to their main body. this took place in the valley of balaklava, and its most disagreeable result (to those not engaged) was to waken up and keep awake every person in the town for a couple of hours. during this winter newspaper correspondents in the crimea were placed in a rather difficult position. in common with generals and chiefs, and men-at-arms, they wrote home accounts of all we were doing to take sebastopol, and they joined in the prophetic cries of the leaders of the host, that the fall of the city of the czar--the centre and navel of his power in those remote regions--would not be deferred for many hours after our batteries had opened upon its defences. in all the inspiration of this universal hope, these poor wretches, who clung to the mantles of the military and engineering elijahs, did not hesitate to communicate to the world, through the columns of the english press, all they knew of the grand operations which were to eventuate in the speedy fall of this doomed city. they cheered the heart of england with details of the vast armaments prepared against its towers and forts--of the position occupied by her troops--the imbecility of the enemy's fire--of the range of the guns so soon to be silenced--of the stations of our troops on commanding sites; and they described with all their power the grandiose operations which were being taken for the reduction of such a formidable place of arms. they believed, in common with the leaders, whose inspiration and whose faith were breathed through the ranks of our soldiers, that the allied forces were to reduce sebastopol long ere the lines they penned could meet the expectant gaze of our fellow-countrymen at home; and they stated, under that faith and in accordance with those inspirations, that the operations of war of our armies were undertaken with reference to certain points and with certain hopes of results, the knowledge of which could not have proved of the smallest service to the enemy once beaten out of their stronghold. contrary to these hopes and inspirations, in direct opposition to our prophecies and to our belief, sebastopol held out against the allies; and the intelligence conveyed in newspapers which we all thought we should have read in the club-rooms of sebastopol, was conveyed to the generals of an army which defended its walls, and were given to the leaders of an enemy whom we had considered would be impuissant and defeated, while they were still powerful and unconquered. the enemy knew that we had lost many men from sickness; that we had so many guns here and so many guns there, that our head-quarters were in one place, our principal powder magazines in another, that the camp of such a division had been annoyed by their fire, and that the tents of another had escaped injury from their shot, but it must be recollected that when these details were written it was confidently declared that, ere the news of the actual preliminaries of the siege could reach england, the allies would have entered sebastopol, that their batteries would have silenced the fire of their enemy, that the quarters of their generals would have been within the _enceinte_ of the town, that our magazines would have been transferred to its storehouses, and that our divisions would have encamped within its walls. [sidenote: miserable state of our army.] how much knowledge of this sort the enemy gleaned through their spies, or by actual observation, it is not needful to inquire; but undoubtedly, without any largely speculative conjecture, it may be inferred that much of the information conveyed to them, or said to have been conveyed to them, by the english press, could have been ascertained through those very ordinary channels of communication, the eye and ear, long ere our letters had been forwarded to sebastopol, and translated from english _in usum superiorum_. however, it is quite evident that it was not advisable to acquaint the enemy with our proceeding and movements during a siege which promised to assume the proportions and to emulate the length of those operations of a similar character in which hosts of men conveyed by formidable armadas from distant shores, set down to beleaguer some devoted fortress. although it might be dangerous to communicate facts likely to be of service to the russians, it was certainly hazardous to conceal the truth from the english people. they must have known, sooner or later, that the siege towards the end of november had been for many days practically suspended, that our batteries were used up and silent, and that our army was much exhausted by the effects of excessive labour and watching, to which they have been so incessantly exposed. the russians knew this soon enough, for a silent battery--to hazard a bull--speaks for itself. the relaxation of our fire was self-evident, but our army, though weakened by sickness, was still equal to hold their position, and to inflict the most signal chastisement upon any assailants who might venture to attack it. in fact, i believe nothing would have so animated our men, deprived as they were of cheering words and of the presence and exhortations of their generals and destitute of all stimulating influences beyond those of their undaunted spirits and glorious courage, as the prospect of meeting the russians outside their intrenchments. rain kept pouring down, the wind howled over the staggering tents--the trenches were turned into dikes--in the tents the water was sometimes a foot deep--our men had neither warm nor waterproof clothing--they were out for twelve hours at a time in the trenches--they were plunged into the inevitable miseries of a winter campaign. these were hard truths, which sooner or later must have come to the ears of the people of england. it was right they should know that the beggar who wandered the streets of london led the life of a prince compared with the british soldiers who were fighting for their country, and who, we were complacently assured by the home authorities, were the best appointed army in europe. they were fed, indeed, but they had no shelter. the tents, so long exposed to the blaze of a bulgarian sun, and drenched by torrents of rain, let the wet through "like sieves." on the night of the th of november, three companies of the rifle brigade ( st battalion), under lieutenant tryon, displayed coolness and courage in a very smart affair. in the rocky ground in the ravine towards the left of our left attack, about russian infantry established themselves in some caverns and old stone huts used by shepherds in days gone by, and annoyed the working and covering parties of the french right attack and of our advances. these caves abounded in all the ravines, and were formed by the decay of the softer portions of the rock between the layers in which it is stratified. it was found expedient to dislodge them, and at seven o'clock this party was sent to drive the russians out. the rifles soon forced the enemy to retreat on the main body, but when the rifles had established themselves for the night in the caves, they were assailed by a strong column. the action ended in the complete repulse of the russian columns, but we had to deplore the loss of a most promising and excellent officer, lieutenant tryon, who was killed by a shot in the head. seven men killed and eighteen or nineteen wounded. general canrobert issued a very flattering _ordre du jour_, in which he especially eulogized the intrepid bravery and noble energy of the three companies of the st battalion of our rifle brigade in the action, and lord raglan mentioned it in very handsome terms. our army was in a strange condition now. the light division was provisionally commanded by codrington, sir george brown being on board the "agamemnon." the duke of cambridge was on board the "retribution." the brigade of guards appeared to be commanded by colonel upton. the brigade of highlanders was down at kadikoi, under the command of sir colin campbell. the second division was commanded by brigadier-general pennefather, in the room of sir de lacy evans, who was on his way home unwell. the first brigade was under the command of a lieutenant-colonel. the second brigade was without a brigadier, general adams' wound was more serious than was supposed. the third division was under the command of sir richard england, and was fortunate in not being much engaged. the fourth division, deprived of all its generals, was commanded by sir john campbell. brigadier-general lord cardigan was unable to leave his yacht. the artillery was under the command of lieutenant-colonel dacres during the absence of lieutenant-colonel gambier, who was wounded, after having succeeded to the command left vacant by the death of strangways. our cattle at eupatoria were by no means in high condition; they perished from hunger. it may readily be guessed that joints from the survivors were scarcely in such a condition as would justify the least conscientious of london waiters describing them as being in "prime cut." [sidenote: companion of the grand duke.] early in november a body of russian cavalry appeared before eupatoria to attack our stock, and a french colonel, with eighty horse, pushed forward to save his beeves and mutton from the gripe of the hungry cossacks. the russian cavalry always screen field guns, and on this occasion, as at the bouljanak, plumped round shot and shell into the frenchmen. the colonel was dismounted, seven men were killed or wounded, and, as the french were retiring, a polk of lancers made a dash at them. our rocket battery was, however, near at hand, and one of these fiery abominations rushed right through their ranks. the horses reared, and the lancers "bolted," leaving several dead upon the field. on the th there was a brisk affair between the french and the russians in front of the flagstaff battery, and the russians dispelled all myths about their want of powder and ball by a most tremendous cannonade. assaults and counter-assaults continued amid a furious fire, which lighted up the skies with sheets of flame from nine o'clock at night till nearly four in the morning. the french at one time actually penetrated behind the outer intrenchments, and established themselves for a time within the _enceinte_, but as there was no preparation made for a general assault, they eventually withdrew. the struggle between french and russians was renewed on the night of the th. the great bone of contention, in addition to the ovens, was the mud fort at the quarantine battery, of which the french had got possession, though, truth to tell, it did not benefit their position very materially. a polish deserter came in on the th with a strange story. he said that on the th the grand duke michael reviewed a strong force of russians (as he stated, of , men, but no reliance can be placed on the assertions of men of this class with regard to the numbers of a force), and that he addressed them in a spirited speech, in which he appealed to them to drive the heretics out of balaklava into the sea. at the conclusion of his harangue the grand duke distributed two silver roubles to each private. a _reconnaissance_ of our lines was made on the th of november by grand duke michael and a very large staff, among whom our knowing people said they could see prince menschikoff and general liprandi. the grand duke was recognisable by the profound respect paid to him--wherever he went hats were taken off and heads uncovered--and by the presence of a white dog which always accompanies him. while making his inspection, the enormous telescope through which he gazed was propped upon muskets and bayonets, and he made frequent references to a very large chart on a portable table. the grand duke rode back up the hills towards tchergoun. as the year waned and winter began to close in upon us, the army suffered greatly; worn out by night-work, by vigil in rain and storm, by hard labour in the trenches, they found themselves suddenly reduced to short allowance, and the excellent and ample rations they had been in the habit of receiving cut off or miserably reduced. for nine days, with very few exceptions, no issue of tea, coffee, or sugar, to the troops took place. these, however, are luxuries--not the necessaries of military life. the direct cause of this scarcity was the condition of the country, which caused a difficulty in getting food from balaklava, and there was besides a want of supplies in the commissariat magazines. but though there was a cause, there was no excuse for the privations to which the men were exposed. we were all told that when the bad weather set in, the country roads would be impassable. the fine weather was allowed to go by, and the roads were left as the tartar carts had made them, though the whole face of the country was covered thickly with small stones which seem expressly intended for road metal. as i understood, it was suggested by the officers of the commissariat department that they should be allowed to form depôts of food, corn, and forage, as a kind of reserve at the head-quarters at the different divisions; but their carts were, after a few days' work in forming those depôts, taken for the siege operations, and were employed in carrying ammunition to the trenches. consequently, the magazines at headquarters were small, and were speedily exhausted when the daily supplies from balaklava could no longer be procured. the food, corn, and hay were stowed in sailing vessels outside the harbour, where they had to ride in thirty or forty fathoms of water on a rocky bottom, with a terrible coast of cliff of , feet in height stretching around the bay: it was notorious that the place was subject to violent storms of wind. as to the town, words could not describe its filth, its horrors, its hospitals, its burials, its dead and dying turks, its crowded lanes, its noisome sheds, its beastly purlieus, or its decay. all the pictures ever drawn of plague and pestilence, from the work of the inspired writer who chronicled the woes of infidel egypt, down to the narratives of boccacio, de foe, or moltke, fall short of individual "bits" of disease and death, which any one might see in half-a-dozen places during half an hour's walk in balaklava. in spite of all our efforts the dying turks made of every lane and street a _cloaca_, and the forms of human suffering which met the eye at every turn, and once were wont to shock us, ceased to attract even passing attention. by raising up the piece of matting or coarse rug which hung across the doorway of some miserable house, from within which you heard wailings and cries of pain and prayers to the prophet, you saw in one spot and in one instant a mass of accumulated woes that would serve you with nightmares for a lifetime. the dead, laid as they died, were side by side with the living. the commonest accessories were wanting; there was not the least attention paid to decency or cleanliness--the stench was appalling--the foetid air could barely struggle out to taint the atmosphere, through the chinks in the walls and roofs. the sick appeared to be tended by the sick, and the dying by the dying. [sidenote: movements in russian camp.] chapter iii. a false alarm--the russians retire--skirmishes--orders to turn out--the french and english make a reconnaissance in force--a brush with the cavalry--reinforcements--winter--system of "requisition," "orders," and "memos"--our friends the zouaves--grievances--christmas and new year--the times commissioner--arrival of omar pasha--first week in january--trying duty of the fatigue parties--terrible state of the trenches--louis napoleon's presents to the french army--the siege--russian prospects. at twelve o'clock, on the night of the th of december, there was a great stir down in the valley of balaklava. the hoarse hum of men was heard by the pickets, and they reported the circumstance to the officers of the french regiments on the heights. lights were seen moving about in the redoubts occupied by the russians. it was supposed that the enemy had received reinforcements, or were about to make a dash at our position before balaklava. the hospital guards and the invalid battalion were turned out, the french shrouded in their capotes grimly waited in their lines the first decisive movement of the enemy. the night was cold, but not clear; after a time the noise of wheels and the tramp of men ceased, and the alarm was over. ere morning, however, we knew the cause. about five o'clock a.m. an outburst of flame from the redoubts in which the russians had hutted themselves illuminated the sky, and at the same time the fire broke out in komara. when morning came, the russians were visible in much-diminished numbers on the higher plateaux of the hills near tchorgoun and komara. the faint rays of the morning sun played on the bayonets of another portion of the force as they wound up the road towards mackenzie's farm, and passed through the wood over the right bank of the tchernaya. they had abandoned the position they had won on th october. with the exception of the advance of the army in the rear on the th october, and the grand sortie on the th of november, no movement of any moment was attempted during the latter part of by the russians to raise the siege. on the th of december, the russians succeeded in penetrating our lines where they were in contract with the french. in order to deceive the sentries they commanded in french, which _ruse_ was successful; they killed and wounded sixteen men--among the latter major moller, of the th--and carried away eleven men and two officers, captain frampton and lieutenant clarke, as prisoners, but were driven back by the th regiment before they could do any further mischief, not without inflicting a loss. on the th december, sir colin campbell made a reconnaissance with a part of his force the th and rifle brigade. soon after seven o'clock the french proceeded towards the hills recently occupied by the russians, with general bosquet, the rifles and highlanders turning to the right and covering the flank of the expedition. as the force approached komara, the cossack vedettes came in sight, retiring slowly from the village, which has been in a ruinous state since the storm of the th of november. the vedettes fell back on a strong body of lancers and light cavalry, which seemed disposed to await the shock of the french chasseurs. cavalry skirmishers exchanged a few shots before they fell in with their respective squadrons, and when the french had arrived within about yards, they broke from a trot into a gallop, and dashed right at the russian cavalry. the latter met the shock, but made no attempt to charge the french, who broke them in an instant, and chased them back on the infantry, who were assembled in three small bodies on the hills, close to the village of tchorgoun. as the french approached tchorgoun, they were received with a brisk fire of shot and shell from some field-pieces, to which their guns were unable to reply; but they pushed within range, and the russians again retired, and abandoned the village of tchorgoun to our allies, as well as the line of cantonments and huts which they had constructed subsequent to liprandi's advance in october. the object was to beat up the russian position and to ascertain the strength of the enemy. our allies at once burst into the village, but the cossacks had been there too long to leave anything to plunder, and so the french set it on fire. the whole cantonment was in a blaze, while volumes of white smoke curling up into the air, and spreading in sheets along the crests of the hills, indicated the destruction of the village, and informed the russians that they could no longer hope for snug quarters there. the huts were very commodious and comfortable. each was capable of containing twenty or thirty men, and held an oven for baking, which also warmed the room at the end. the object of the _reconnaissance_ having been accomplished, the expedition was halted, and the men set to work at once to avail themselves of the abundance of wood along the hill-sides, and to make enormous fires, which almost obscured the retreat of the russians. it was ascertained that they did not number more than or men. the french remained upon the ground till it was almost dark, and then returned to their camp. the french lost two officers, wounded (one since dead) and about twenty men put _hors de combat_. they took seventeen of the russian cavalry and a few infantry prisoners. [sidenote: activity and ubiquity of the zouaves.] we were cursed by a system of "requisitions," "orders," and "memos," which was enough to depress an army of scriveners, and our captains, theoretically, had almost as much work to do with pen and paper as if they had been special correspondents or bankers' clerks; that is, they ought to have had as much to do, but, thanks to the realities of war, they had no bookkeeping; their accounts being lost, and the captain who once had forty or fifty pounds' weight of books and papers to carry, had not so much as a penny memorandum-book. this fact alone showed the absurdity of our arrangements. in peace, when these accounts were of comparatively little importance, we had plenty and too much of checks and returns, but in time of war the very first thing our army did was to leave all its stationery on board the steamer that carried it to the scene of action. the cold was developing itself, and efforts to guard against it were attended with mischief. captain swinton, the royal artillery, was suffocated by the fumes of charcoal from a stove, several officers were half-killed by carbonic acid gas. we were obliged to apply to the french to place guards over the line of march, for the instant a cart with provisions or spirits broke down it was plundered by our active friends the zouaves, who really seemed to have the gift of ubiquity. let an araba once stick, or break a wheel or an axle, and the zouaves sniffed it out just as vultures detect carrion; in a moment barrels and casks were broken open, the bags of bread were ripped up, the contents were distributed, and the commissary officer, who had gone to seek for help and assistance, on his return found only the tires of the wheels and a few splinters of wood left, for our indefatigable foragers completed their work most effectually, and carried off the cart, body and boxes, to serve as firewood. they were splendid fellows--our friends the zouaves--always gay, healthy, and well fed; they carried loads for us, drank for us, ate for us, baked for us, foraged for us, and built our huts for us, and all on the cheapest and most economical terms. but there were some few degenerate wretches who grumbled even among this _corps d'élite_. an officer commanding a fatigue party, who happened to fall in with a party of zouaves engaged in a similar duty, brought them all off to the canteen to give them a dram after their day's labour. while he was in the tent a warrior with a splendid face for a grievance came in and joined in the conversation, and our friend, seeing he was not a private, but that he had a chatty talkative aspect, combined with an air of rank, began to talk of the privations to which the allied armies were exposed. this was evidently our ally's _champ de bataille_. he at once threw himself into an attitude which would have brought down the pit and galleries of the porte st. martin to a certainty, and, in a tone which no words can describe, working himself up by degrees to the grand climax, and attuning his body to every nice modulation of phrase and accent, he plunged into his proper woes. our gallant friend had been expatiating on the various disagreeables of camp life in the crimea in winter time: "c'est vrai!" quoth he, "mon ami! en effet, nous éprouvons beaucoup de misère!" the idea of any one suffering misery except himself seemed to the zouave too preposterous not to be disposed of at once. "mais, mon lieutenant," cried he, "regardez moi---- moi! pr-r-r-r-remier basson me zouaves! élève du conservatoire de paris! après avoir sacrificé vingt ans de ma vie pour acquérir un talent--pour me--r-r-ren-dr-r-re agréable a la société--me voici! (with extended arms, and legs) me voici--forcé d'arracher du bois de la terre (with terrible earnestness and sense of indignity), pour me faire de la soupe!" at the close of the year there were sick in the british camp before sebastopol, and it was not too much to say that their illness had, for the most part, been caused by hard work in bad weather, and by exposure to wet without any adequate protection. think of a tent pitched, as it were, at the bottom of a marsh, into which some twelve or fourteen miserable creatures, drenched to the skin, had to creep for shelter after twelve hours of vigil in a trench like a canal, and then reflect what state these poor fellows must have been in at the end of a night and day spent in such _shelter_, huddled together without any change of clothing, and lying packed up as close as they could be stowed in saturated blankets. but why were they in tents? where were the huts which had been sent out to them? the huts were on board ships in the harbour of balaklava. some of these huts, of which we heard so much, were floating about the beach; others had been landed, and now and then i met a wretched pony, knee-deep in mud, struggling on beneath the weight of two thin deal planks, a small portion of one of these huts, which were most probably converted into firewood after lying for some time in the camp, or turned into stabling for officers' horses when enough of _disjecta membra_ had been collected. had central depôts been established, as mr. filder proposed, while the fine weather lasted, much, if not all, of the misery and suffering of the men and of the loss of horses would have been averted. it may be true that the enemy were suffering still more than our own men, but the calculation of equal losses on the part of england and on the part of russia in the article of soldiery, cannot be regarded as an ingredient in the consideration of our position. our force was deprived of about men every twenty-four hours. there were between and men sick, wounded, and convalescent in the hospitals on the bosphorus. the th regiment before it had landed was provided with some protection against the severity of the weather--not by government, but by _the times_ commissioner at scutari: and i heard from the best authority that the bounty of the subscribers to the fund intrusted to _the times_ for distribution was not only well bestowed to the men, but that the officers of the regiments had evinced the greatest satisfaction at the comfort. when the various articles sent up by _the times_ commissioner arrived at the camp, there was a rush made to get them by the regimental medical officers, and no false delicacy was evinced by them in availing themselves of the luxuries and necessaries placed at their disposal, and of which they had been in so much need. we had rather a dreary christmas. where were the offerings of our kind country-men and country-women, and the donations from our ducal parks? the fat bucks which had exhausted the conservative principles of a gunter; the potted meats, which covered the decks and filled the holds of adventurous yachts; the worsted devices which had employed the fingers and emptied the crotchet-boxes of fair sympathizers at home? [sidenote: craving of the army for ardent spirits.] omar pasha arrived on the th of january, on board the "inflexible," and landed at the ordnance-wharf. a council of war?--was held, at which the french general-in-chief, the french admiral, sir e. lyons, and sir john burgoyne, were present. next day, french were sent down to balaklava to help us in carrying up provisions and ammunition. each man received from our commissariat a ration of rum and biscuits. the scenery of our camping ground and of the adjacent country assumed a wintry aspect. the lofty abrupt peaks and sharp ridges of the mountains which closed up the valley of balaklava were covered with snow. on the tops of the distant mounds black figures, which appeared of enormous size, denoted the stations of the enemy's pickets and advanced posts. the rd regiment had only seven men fit for duty; the th had only thirty on the th. a strong company of the th was reduced in a week to fourteen file, and that regiment lost fifty men in a fortnight. the scots fusileer guards, who had men, mustered on parade. other regiments suffered in like proportion. the men sought after ardent spirits with great avidity, and in carrying out rum to camp broached the kegs when the eye of the officer in charge was off them. the duty of the fatigue parties was, indeed, very trying. a cask of rum, biscuit, or beef was slung from a stout pole between two men, and then they went off on a tramp of about five miles from the commissariat stores at balaklava to head-quarters. as i was coming in from the front one day, i met a lad who could not long have joined in charge of a party of the th regiment. he had taken the place of a tired man, and struggled along under his load, while the man at the other end of the pole exhausted the little breath he had left in appeals to his comrades. "boys! boys! won't you come and relieve the young officer?" horses could not do this work, for they could not keep their legs. hundreds of men had to go into the trenches at night with no covering but their greatcoats, and no protection for their feet but their regimental shoes. many when they took off their shoes were unable to get their swollen feet into them again, and they might be seen bare-footed, hopping along about the camp, with the thermometer at twenty degrees, and the snow half a foot deep upon the ground. the trenches were two and three feet deep with mud, snow, and half-frozen slush. our patent stoves were wretched. they were made of thin sheet iron, which could not stand our fuel--charcoal. besides, they were mere poison manufactories, and they could not be left alight in the tents at night. they answered well for drying clothes. i do not know how the french got on, but i know that our people did not get a fair chance for their lives while wintering in the crimea. providence had been very good to us. with one exception, which must have done as much mischief to the enemy as to ourselves, we had wonderful weather from the day the expedition landed in the crimea. one day as i was passing through the camp of the th (french) regiment of the line, an officer came out and invited me to dismount and take a glass of brandy which had been sent out by the emperor as a christmas gift. my host, who had passed through his grades in africa, showed me with pride the case of good bordeaux, the box of brandy, and the pile of good tobacco sent to him by napoleon iii.--"_le premier ami du soldat_." a similar present had been sent to every officer of the french army, and a certain quantity of wine, brandy and tobacco had been forwarded to each company of every regiment in the crimea. that very day i heard dolorous complaints that the presents sent by the queen and prince albert to our army had miscarried, and that the guards and rifles had alone received the royal bounty in the very acceptable shape of a ton of cavendish. although he was living in a tent, the canvass was only a roof for a capacious and warm pit in which there was a bright wood fire sparkling cheerily in a grate of stones. we "trinqued" together and fraternised, as our allies will always do when our officers give them the chance. it must not be inferred that the french were all healthy while we were all sickly. they had dysentery, fever, diarrhoea, and scurvy, as well as pulmonary complaints, but not to the same extent as ourselves, or to anything like it in proportion to their numbers. on the th of january, some of the guards of her majesty queen victoria's household brigade were walking about in the snow _without soles to their shoes_. the warm clothing was going up to the front in small detachments. chapter iv. road made for us by the french--hardships--wretched ambulance corps--mule litter--heroism of the troops--a speedy thaw--russian new year--a sortie--central depôt for provisions--disappearance of the araba drivers from roumelia and bulgaria--highlanders and the kilt--the indefatigable cossacks--frost-bites--losses in the campaign--foraging--wild fowl shooting--the "arabia" on fire--the coffee question--variableness of the crimean climate--warm clothing--deserters--their account of sebastopol. [sidenote: more hardships, but no despair.] the road which the french were making for the english from kadikoi, by the cavalry camp, towards the front progressed, but not rapidly. the weather was so changeable, and was in every change so unfavourable for work, that it was hard to expect our allies to labour for us with their usual energy. however, they did work. they built huts for our officers, when paid for it, with much activity, and their aid in that way was invaluable. some of the warm coats sent out for the officers were much too small, and i heard a pathetic story from a stout highlander respecting the defeat of his exertions to get into his much-longed-for and much-wanted garment. there was only one officer in the whole regiment that the largest of the great coats fitted, and he was certainly not remarkable for bulk or stature. the men were far more lucky, and their coats were of the most liberal dimensions, however eccentric in cut and device they might be. as the ambulance corps were quite _hors de combat_ in weather of this kind--as the men and horses were nearly all gone or unfit for duty, our sick were subjected to much misery in going from the camp to be put on board ship. but for the kindness of the french in lending us their excellent mule-litters, many of our poor fellows would have died in their tents. captain grant, at the head of the ambulance corps, was a most excellent, intelligent, and active officer, but he had no materials to work with, and this was no place for intelligence and activity to work miracles in. experience had taught our allies that the mule-litter was the best possible conveyance for a sick or wounded man. a movable jointed frame of iron, with a canvass stretcher, was suspended from a light pack saddle at each side of a mule. if the sick or wounded man was able to sit up, by raising the head of the litter, a support was afforded to his back. if he wished his legs to hang down, the frame was adjusted accordingly, and he rode as if he were in an arm-chair suspended by the side of a mule. when the invalid wished to lie down, he had a long and comfortable couch--comfortable in so far as the pace of a mule was easier than the jog of an ambulance, and he was not crowded with others like hens in a coop. these mules travelled where ambulance carts could not stir; they required no roads nor beaten tracks, and they were readily moved about in the rear when an action was going on. it was right that england should be made aware of the privations which her soldiers endured in this great winter campaign, that she might reward with her greenest laurels those gallant hearts, who deserved the highest honour--that honour which in ancient rome was esteemed the highest that a soldier could gain--that in desperate circumstances he had not despaired of the republic. and no man despaired. the exhausted soldier, before he sank to rest, sighed that he could not share the sure triumph--the certain glories--of the day when our flag was to float from sebastopol! there was no doubt--no despondency. no one for an instant felt diffident of ultimate success. from his remains, in that cold crimean soil, the british soldier knew an avenger and a conqueror would arise. if high courage, unflinching bravery--if steady charge--the bayonet-thrust in the breach--the strong arm in the fight--if calm confidence, contempt of death, and love of country could have won sebastopol, it had long been ours. let england know her children as the descendants of the starved rabble who fought at agincourt and cressy; and let her know, too, that in fighting against a stubborn enemy, her armies had to maintain a struggle with foes still more terrible, and that, as they triumphed over the one, so they vanquished the other. on the night of the th of january the wind changed round to the southward, and the thermometer rose to °. a speedy thaw followed, and the roads and camp once more suffered from the ravages of our old enemy--the mud. the russians who had been very active inside the town during the day, and who had lighted great watchfires on the north side of the place, illuminated the heights over tchernaya with rows of lights, which shone brilliantly through the darkness of the cold winter's night, and were evidently with all possible pomp and ostentation celebrating the opening of their new year. lights shone from the windows of the public buildings, and our lonely sentries in the valleys and ravines, and the _enfans perdus_--the french sharpshooters lying in their lairs with watchful eye on every embrasure before them--might almost fancy that the inhabitants and garrison of the beleaguered city were tantalising them with the aspect of their gaiety. at midnight all the chapel bells of the city began ringing. on our side the sentries and pickets were warned to be on the alert, and the advanced posts were strengthened wherever it was practicable. about a quarter past one o'clock in the morning the russians gave a loud cheer. the french replied by opening fire, and the russians instantly began one of the fiercest cannonades we had ever heard. it reminded one of those tremendous salvoes of artillery which the enemy delivered on two or three occasions before we opened our batteries in october. the earthworks flashed forth uninterrupted floods of flame, which revealed distinctly the outlines of the buildings in the town, and defences swarming with men. the roaring of shot, the screaming and hissing of heavy shell, and the whistling of carcases filled up the intervals between the deafening roll of cannon, which was as rapid and unbroken as quick file-firing. the iron storm passed over our lines uninterruptedly for more than half an hour, and the french, whose works to our left were less protected by the ground than ours, had to shelter themselves closely in the trenches, and could barely reply to the volleys which ploughed up the parapets of their works. while the firing was going on a strong body of men had been pushed out of the town up the face of the hill towards our works in front, and on the flank of the left attack. as it was expected that some attempt of the kind would be made, a sergeant was posted at this spot with twelve men. every reliance was placed upon his vigilance, and a strict attention to his duties, but, somehow or other, the enemy crept upon the little party, surprised, and took them prisoners, and then advanced on the covering parties with such rapidity and suddenness that the parties on duty in the trenches were obliged to retire. they rallied, however, and, being supported by the regiments in rear, they advanced, and the russians were driven back close to the town. [sidenote: mortality amongst the turks.] in this little affair one officer and nine men were wounded, six men were killed, and fourteen men taken. the french had to resist a strong sortie nearly at the same time; for a short time the russians were within the parapet of one of their mortar batteries, and spiked two or three mortars with wooden plugs, but the french drove them back with loss, and in the pursuit got inside the russian advanced batteries. the soldiers, indeed, say they could have taken the place if they had been permitted to do so. at two o'clock all was silent. a heavy gale of wind blew nearly all day, but the thermometer rose to °, and the snow thawed so rapidly that the tracks to the camp became rivulets of mud. the establishment of a central depôt for provisions had, however, done much to diminish the labours and alleviate the sufferings of the men engaged in the duties of the siege; but the formation of the depôt and the accumulation of the stores wore out and exhausted many of our best men. out of a batch of or horses brought up from constantinople, died between the th of december and the th january. in fact the commissariat consumed and used up horseflesh at the rate of head per week, and each of the animals cost on an average _l._ the araba drivers from roumelia and bulgaria disappeared likewise--out of the several hundreds there were very few left; and of the tartars of the crimea in our employ the majority were unwilling or unfit to work in cold weather, accustomed as they seemed to be to sit all day in close rooms provided with large stoves as soon as winter set in. disease and sickness of all kinds swept these poor people away very rapidly. the mortality of the turkish troops, which had, as i before stated, assumed the dimensions of a plague, had now begun to be attended with much of the physical appearances of the same terrible disease, and their sanitary condition excited the liveliest apprehensions of our medical officers in balaklava, who had, over and over again, represented to the authorities the danger of allowing the turks to remain in the town. the _adelaide_ arrived in balaklava on the th of january, after a splendid passage from england, and the passengers must have been a little astonished at the truly christmas aspect presented by the crimea; somewhat more real and less jovial they found it than the pictures which represented florid young gentlemen in gorgeous epaulettes, gloating over imaginary puddings and christmas presents in snug tents, and ready to partake of the fare that england had sent to her dear boys in the crimea, but which none of them had then received, and which none of them would ever eat in such comfort and with such appliances of luxury. there was a wind that would have effectually deprived, if wind could do it, any number of rats of their whiskers. anxious to see what things were like on the heights above balaklava, i started, with my gun upon my shoulder, through the passes across the hill, knee-deep in snow; and after a shot or two at great, raw-necked vultures, and stately eagles, and some more fortunate cracks at "blue rocks," scraping the snow off the points of the cliffs, i arrived in the camp of the highlanders, several hundred feet below the elevated position of the rifles, but quite high enough to induce me to accept a hearty invitation to stop to dinner, and rest for the night. oh, could "_caledoniensis_," "_pictus_," "_memor antiquæ virtutis_," or any of the high-spirited celtic gentlemen who are fighting about lions rampant and scottish rights, and the garb of that respectable person, auld gael, but have seen what their countrymen were like as they faced the crimean winter, how shamed they would have been of their kilt and philibeg and stocking declamation! all such things were clean gone, and if the gallant highlanders ever wore the kilt _'twas for punishment_! breeks--low-lived breeks--and blanket gaiters, and any kind of leggings over them, were the wear of our scottish zouaves, though, in good sooth, they were no more like zouaves, except in popular modern legends, than they were like dutchmen, _à la_ rip van winkle. over the waste or snow, looking down from the heights towards the valley of the tchernaya, i saw those indefatigable cossacks riding about their picket ground, and a few waggons stealing along from mackenzie's farm towards the heights of inkerman. a vedette or two were trotting up and down along a ridge, keeping a bright lookout on our movements, and through the glass we perceived them flapping their hands under their armpits, as london cabmen do on a cold night when waiting for a fare. towards baidar, pickets of the same active gentry were moving along to keep themselves warm. we had no cavalry posts advanced towards them. in fact we could not conveniently send any out. those ragged ruffians, in sheepskin coats and fur caps, mounted on ragged ponies, with deal lances and coarse iron tips, were able in drifting snow and biting winds to hold ground which our cavalry could not face. in the middle of january there were severe and sudden alterations of temperature. men were frozen in their tents, and several soldiers on duty in the trenches were removed to hospital with severe frost-bites, but the frost enabled the men to get up considerable supplies of warm clothing, though the means at our disposal did not permit of the wood for huts being sent to the front. when a path had once been trodden through the snow, men and horses could get along much more easily than if they had to wade through mud or across a country in a state of semi-solution. many thousands of coats, lined with fur, long boots, gloves, mits, and socks were served out, but there were regimental hospitals where they had only one blanket to lie upon. our army consisted of officers and regiments almost new to this campaign. the generation of six months before had passed away; generals, brigadiers, colonels, captains, and men, the well-known faces of gallipoli, of bulari, of scutari, of varna, of aladyn, of devno, of monastir--ay, even of the bivouac of bouljanak, had changed; and there was scarcely one of the regiments once so familiar to me which i could then recognise save by its well-known number. what a harvest death had reaped, and yet how many more were ripe for the sickle of the great farmer! it was sad to meet an old acquaintance, for all one's reminiscences were of noble hearts now cold for ever, and of friend after friend departed. and then came--"poor fellow! he might have been saved, if----" [sidenote: a nondescript army.] excepting lord raglan, lord lucan, and sir r. england, not one of our generals remained of those who went out originally; the changes among our brigadiers and colonels were almost as great. sir george brown, the duke of cambridge, the earl of cardigan, sir george cathcart, sir de lacy evans, general tylden, general strangways, brigadier bentinck, brigadier goldie, brigadier buller, brigadier adams, brigadier torrens, brigadier cator, lord de ros--had all been removed from the army by wounds, by sickness, or by death. and so it was with the men themselves. on the th the thermometer was at ° in the morning and at ° on the heights over balaklava. the snow fell all night, and covered the ground to the depth of three feet; but the cold and violent wind drifted it in places to the depth of five or six feet. in the morning french soldiers came down to balaklava for shot and shell, and the agility, good spirits, and energy with which they ploughed through the snow were alike admirable. the wind blew almost a gale, and the native horses refused to face it, but our poor fellows came trudging along in the same dreary string, and there was something mournful in the very aspect of the long lines of black dots moving across the vast expanse of glittering snow between sebastopol and balaklava. when these dots came up, you saw they had very red noses and very white faces and very bleared eyes; and as to their clothes falstaff would have thought his famous levy a _corps d'élite_ if he could have beheld our gallant soldiery. many of the officers were as ragged and as reckless in dress. the generals made appeals to their subalterns "to wear their swords, as there was no other way of telling them from the men." it was inexpressibly odd to see captain smith, of the----foot, with a pair of red russian leather boots up to his middle, a cap probably made out of the tops of his holsters, and a white skin coat tastefully embroidered all down the back with flowers of many-coloured silk, topped by a head-dress _à la_ dustman of london, stalking gravely through the mud of balaklava, intent on the capture of a pot of jam or marmalade. does the reader wonder why we were all so fond of jam? because it was portable and come-at-able, and was a substitute for butter, which was only sent out in casks and giant crocks, one of which would exhaust the transport resources of a regiment. captain smith was much more like his great namesake of the adelphi, when, in times gone by, he made up for a smuggler-burglar-bandit, than the pride of the high-street of portsmouth, or than that hero of the phoenix-park, with golden wings like an angel, before the redness of whose presence little boys and young ladies trembled. all this would be rather facetious and laughable, were not poor captain smith a famished wretch, with bad chilblains, approximating to frost-bites, a touch of scurvy, and of severe rheumatism. this cold weather brought great quantities of wild fowl over the camp, but it was rather too busy a spot for them to alight in. they could scarcely recognize their old haunts in the chersonese, and flew about disconsolately over their much metamorphosed feeding-grounds. solemn flights of wild geese, noisy streams of barnacles, curlew, duck, and widgeon wheeled over the harbour, and stimulated the sporting propensities of the seamen who kept up a constant fusillade from the decks. balls and no. shot whistled unpleasantly close to one's ears, and one day a man was startled by receiving a bullet slap through his arm. huge flocks of larks and finches congregated about the stables and the cavalry camps, and were eagerly sought by our allies, who much admire a _petite chasse_, which furnished them with such delicate reliefs to the monotony of ration dinners. they were rather reckless in pursuit of their quarry; the enthusiastic zouave in chase of a fluttering bunting was frequently greeted by sounds which his ignorance of english alone prevented him from considering a _teterrima causa belli_. lord raglan's visit to balaklava, on the th of january, was a memorable event. men were set to work throwing stones down into the most curtius-like gulfs in the streets. lord raglan began to go about frequently and ride through the various camps. we were astounded, on reading our papers, to find that on the nd of december, london believed, the coffee issued to the men was roasted before it was given out! who could have hoaxed them so cruelly? around every tent there were to be seen green berries, which the men trampled into the mud, and could not roast. mr. murdoch, chief engineer of the _sanspareil_ mounted some iron oil casks, and adapted them very ingeniously for roasting; and they came into play at balaklava. i do not believe at the time the statement was made, one ounce of roasted coffee had ever been issued from any commissariat store to any soldier in the crimea. the great variableness of the crimean climate was its peculiarity. in the morning, you got up and found the water frozen in your tent, the ground covered with snow, the thermometer at °; put on mufflers, greatcoat, and mits; and went out for a walk, and before evening you returned perspiring under the weight of clothing which you carried at the end of your stick, unable to bear it any longer, the snow turned into slush, the thermometer at °. on the th the thermometer ° noon. on the nd it stood at °--an alternation of ° in five days; but the character of the weather exhibited a still greater difference. in the southern crimea the wind riots in the exercise of its prescriptive right to be capricious. it plays about the tops of the cliffs and mountain ridges, lurks round corners in ravines, nearly whips you off your legs when you are expatiating on the calmness of the day, and suddenly yells in gusts at the moment the stillness had tempted you to take out a sketch-book for a memorandum of sebastopol. [sidenote: a ghastly procession.] desertions to the enemy, from the french and from our own ranks, took place. the deserters generally belonged to the foreign legion, from the young draughts and from regiments just sent out. we received a few deserters in turn from the army in the rear, by scrambling along the cliffs, and one of them told us he was three days coming from baidar by that route. these men stated that the part of the town built upon the slope to the sea was very little injured by our fire, as our shot and shells did not "top" the hill. to the south faced one steep slope covered with houses and batteries and ruined works and battered suburbs. the other descended to the sea, and was covered by public buildings, fine mansions, warehouses and government edifices. this part had suffered very little. the ships took refuge below this slope when pressed by our fire; the workmen and soldiers and sailors found snug quarters in the buildings. chapter v. new works--a ghastly procession--reinforcements--havoc amongst horses--a reconnaissance of sebastopol--russian defences--camps--red tape and routine--changes of weather--sickness--sufferings of the french--effect of the author's statements--facts--continual drain of men--affair of musketry between the russians and the french--sharp-shooting--state of our batteries--orders with reference to flags of truce--a spy in the trenches--good fellowship at the outposts. we gradually relinquished ground to our allies, and the front, which it had cost so much strength and so much health to maintain, was gradually abandoned to the more numerous and less exhausted army. some of our regiments were reduced below the strength of a company. the french relieved the guards of their outpost duties, and gradually extended themselves towards inkerman. what a difference there was in the relative position of the two armies from that on the evening of the th of october, when the french fire had been completely snuffed out, and our own fire still maintained its strength. there was a white frost on the night of the nd of january, the next morning the thermometer was at °. a large number of sick were sent into balaklava on the rd on french mule litters and a few of our bât horses. they formed one of the most ghastly processions that ever poet imagined. many were all but dead. with closed eyes, open mouths, and ghastly faces, they were borne along two and two, the thin stream of breath, visible in the frosty air, alone showing they were still alive. one figure was a horror--a corpse, stone dead, strapped upright in its seat, its legs hanging stiffly down, the eyes staring wide open, the teeth set on the protruding tongue, the head and body nodding with frightful mockery of life at each stride of the mule over the broken road. the man had died on his way down. as the apparition passed, the only remark the soldiers made was,--"there's one poor fellow out of pain, any way!" another man i saw with the raw flesh and skin hanging from his fingers, the naked bones of which protruded into the cold air. that was a case of frost-bite. possibly the hand had been dressed, but the bandages might have dropped off. the french army received important reinforcements. the eighth division arrived at kamiesch; it consisted of , good troops. the ninth division, under general brunet was expected. our allies then would muster upwards of , bayonets. the turks did not seem to amount to more than or . these unfortunate troops received supplies of new clothing and uniforms from riza pasha, the war minister at constantinople, and were assuming a respectable appearance. it would have astonished a stranger to have seen the multitudes of dead horses all along the road. in every gully were piles of their remains torn by wild dogs and vultures. on a lone hillside i beheld the remnants of the gallant grey on which mr. maxse rode to the mouth of the katcha, in company with major nasmyth, on the eve of the flank march to balaklava, and many of the equine survivors of the charge at balaklava lay rotting away by the side of the cavalry camp. some had dropped down dead, and were frozen still as they fell; others were struggling to rise from their miry graves. the carcases had been skinned, by the turks and french, to cover their huts; many suspicious-looking gaps, suggestive of horse-steak, were cut out in their flanks. there was very smart fighting in the trenches and advanced works between the french and russians on the night of the rd and the morning of the th. on the th, lord raglan, attended by major-general airey and a few staff officers, rode over to balaklava. he went on board the _caradoc_ and had a long interview with sir e. lyons alone, previous to which there was a council of war. lord raglan did not return to head-quarters till it was nearly dusk. i had a long _reconnaissance_ of sebastopol on the same day, in company with captain biddulph, of artillery. it was a beautifully clear day, and at times it was almost warm. we went up to the hill in advance and on the left of the maison brulée, and swept every inch of ground. the aspect of the place itself had changed very little, considering the hundreds of tons of shot and shell thrown into it; but whitewashed houses, roofed with tiles, and at most two stories high, in the suburbs, were in ruins. the roofs, doors, and windows were off, but puffs of smoke showed that the frames were covers for russian riflemen. in front and left, lay a most intricate series of covered ways, traverses, zigzags, and parallels from the seaside, close to the quarantine battery, over the undulating land to the distance of sixty-five metres from the outer works of the russians. swarms of _franctireurs_ lined the advanced parallel, and kept up a continual pop, pop, pop, in reply to the russian riflemen behind their advanced works. [sidenote: strength of earthworks.] the works from the quarantine fort to the crenelated wall, and thence to the flagstaff battery, seemed very much in the same state as the first day i saw them, with the exception, that the guns were withdrawn, and the defence left to riflemen. the flagstaff parapets had been knocked to atoms long before, and the large buildings around it were all in ruins; but, on looking towards the ridge behind it, from which the streets descend, and which shelters that part of the place, i could see but little difference in its appearance to that which it presented on the th of september. people were walking about (relief coming up from the sea-side) carrying baskets. between the rear of the flagstaff battery and this ridge, earthworks could be detected in the openings along the lines of streets, and immediately behind the first russian intrenchment there was a formidable work armed which at two o'clock convinced us they had pretty good range, by thundering forth an astounding broadside in answer to fire from the french. there was a rattling fire from the _enfans perdus_ at the embrasures, the russians slackened their fire and replied to the french sharpshooters only. when the smoke cleared away, i could see the enemy and the french carrying away a few bodies on each side to the rear. at the other side of the harbour, fort constantine was shining brightly in the sun, its white walls blackened here and there under the line of embrasures by the smoke of the guns on the th of october. behind it were visible dark walls rising through the snow, and notched like saws by the lines of embrasures. the waters of the harbour, as smooth as glass, were covered with boats, plying from one side to the other, and one full of men came round the head of the dockyard creek towards fort alexander, with her white flag and blue st. andrew's cross. the large pile of government buildings by the side of the dockyard creek was much injured. close to there was a large two-decker, with a spring upon her cables lying so as to sweep the western slope of the town. a small steamer with her steam up was near at hand, either for the use of the garrison or to carry off the two-decker, in case heavy guns were unmasked upon her. to the right, at the other side of this creek, we could see into the rear of our left attack. the houses near the redan and garden batteries as well as those in front of the right attack, and in the rear of malakoff were in ruins. the part of the city beyond them seemed untouched. to the rear of malakoff, which was split up, from top to bottom, as it was the first day of our fire, there was a perfect miracle of engineering. it is impossible to speak too highly of the solidity and finish of the earthworks, thrown up to enfilade our attack, and to defend the key of their works. one line of battery was rivetted with tin boxes, supposed to be empty powder cases. this was the mere wantonness and surplusage of abundant labour. behind this we could see about , soldiers and workmen labouring with the greatest zeal at a new line of batteries undisturbedly. at the rear of malakoff there was a camp, and another at the other side of the creek, close to the citadel, on the north side. the men-of-war and steamers were lying with topgallantmasts and yards down, under the spit of land inside fort constantine. our third parallel, which was within a few hundred yards of the enemy's advanced works, was occupied by sharpshooters, who kept up a constant fire, but from my position i could not see so well into our approaches as upon those of the french. a circumstance occurred in balaklava on the th, which i stated for the consideration of the public at home without one single word of comment. the _charity_, an iron screw steamer, was in harbour for the reception of sick under the charge of a british medical officer. that officer went on shore and made an application to the officer in charge of the government stoves for two or three to put on board the ship to warm the men. "three of my men," said he, "died last night from choleraic symptoms, brought on from the extreme cold, and i fear more will follow." "oh!" said the guardian of stoves, "you must make your requisition in due form, send it up to head-quarters, and get it signed properly, and returned, and then i will let you have the stoves." "but my men may die meantime." "i can't help that; i must have the requisition." "it is my firm belief that there are men now in a dangerous state whom another night's cold will certainly kill." "i really can do nothing; i must have a requisition properly signed before i can give one of these stoves away." "for god's sake, then, _lend_ me some; i'll be responsible for their safety." "i really can do nothing of the kind." "but, consider, this requisition will take time to be filled up and signed, and meantime these poor fellows will go." "i cannot help that." "i'll be responsible for anything you do." "oh, no, that can't be done!" "will a requisition signed by the p. m. o. of this place be of any use!" "no." "will it answer, if he takes on himself the responsibility?" "certainly not." the surgeon went off in sorrow and disgust. i appended another special fact for dr. smith, the head of the british army medical department. a surgeon of a regiment stationed on the cliffs above balaklava, who had forty sick out of two hundred, had been applying to the "authorities" in the town for three weeks for medicines, and could not get one of them. the list he sent in was returned with the observation, "we have none of these medicines in store." the surgeon came down with his last appeal:--"do, i beg you, give me any medicine you have for diarrhoea." "_we haven't any._" "have you any medicine for fever? anything you can let me have, i'll take." "_we haven't any._" "i have a good many cases of rheumatism. can you let me have any medicines?" "_we haven't any._" thus, for diarrhoea, fever, and rheumatism there were no specifics. dr. smith could prove, no doubt, that there were granaries full of the finest and costliest drugs and medicines for fever, rheumatism, and diarrhoea at scutari, but the knowledge that they were there little availed those dying for want of them at balaklava. [sidenote: effective strength of our army.] but with all this, the hand of the plague was _not_ stayed. sickness clung to our troops, the soldiers who climbed the bloody steeps of the alma in the splendour of manly strength, and who defended the heights over the tchernaya exhausted, and "washed out" by constant fatigue, incessant wet, insufficient food, want of clothing and of cover from the weather, died away in their tents night after night. doctors, and hospitals, and nurses, came too late, and they sank to rest unmurmuringly, and every week some freshly-formed lines of narrow mounds indicated the formation of a new burial-place. it must not be inferred that the french escaped sickness and mortality. on the contrary, our allies suffered to a degree which would have been considered excessive, had it not been compared with our own unfortunate standard of disease and death, and to the diminution caused by illness, must be added that from the nightly sorties of the russians and the heavy fire from the batteries. according to what i heard from people, i was honoured by a good deal of abuse for telling the truth. i really would have put on my claude lorraine glass, if i could. i would have clothed skeletons with flesh, breathed life into the occupants of the charnel-house, subverted the succession of the seasons, and restored the legions which had been lost; but i could not tell lies to "make things pleasant." any statements i had made i have chapter, and book, and verse, and witness for. many, very many, that i did _not_ make i could prove to be true with equal ease, and could make public, if the public interest required it. the only thing the partisans of misrule could allege was, that i did not "make things pleasant" to the authorities, and that, amid the filth and starvation, and deadly stagnation of the camp, i did not go about "babbling of green fields," of present abundance, and of prospects of victory. suppose we come to "facts." do people at home know how many bayonets the british army could muster? do they believe we had , , after all our reinforcements? they might have been told--nay, it might have been proved to them by figures at home--that the british army consisted of , men. from the st of december, , to the th of january, , , sick and wounded were sent down from camp to balaklava, and thence on shipboard! shall i state how many returned? yet people at home told us it was "croaking" to state the facts, or even to allude to them! the man who could have sat calmly down and written home that our troops were healthy, that there was only an average mortality, that every one was confident of success, that our works were advancing, that we were nearer to the capture of sebastopol than we were on the th of october, that transport was abundant, and the labours of our army light, might be an agreeable correspondent, but assuredly he would not have enabled the public to form a very accurate opinion on the real state of affairs in the camp before sebastopol. the wretched boys sent out to us were not even fit for powder. they died ere a shot was fired against them. sometimes a good draught was received; but they could not endure long vigil and exposure in the trenches. and now for another "fact." the battle of inkerman was fought on the th of november, as the world will remember for ever. about per cent. of the brigade of guards were killed or wounded on that occasion. they received reinforcements, and the brigade which mustered about , men when it left england had received some , men in various draughts up to the end of the year. what was the strength in the last week of january of the brigade of household troops--of that magnificent band who crowned the struggle of the alma with victory, and beat back the russian hordes at inkerman? i think they could have mustered, including servants, about men in the whole brigade. here is another fact. since the same battle of inkerman, at least , men of the brigade had been "expended," absorbed, used up, and were no more seen. the official returns will show how many of that thousand were killed or wounded by the enemy. another fact. there were two regiments so shattered and disorganised--so completely destroyed, to tell the truth, that they had to be sent away to be "re-formed." now, mark, one of these regiments was neither at the alma nor at inkerman--the other was engaged in the latter battle only, and did not lose many men. january was celebrated by an extremely heavy fire between the russians and the french. the volleys were as heavy as those at the alma or inkerman, and from the numbers of russian infantry thrown into the works, it was evident the enemy intended to dispute the small space of ground between the last french trench and the broken outworks of their late batteries with the greatest vigour. possibly, indeed, orders had been received to resist any nearer approaches of the french, who had burrowed up, zigzagged, paralleled, and parapetted the country from the quarantine fort to the flagstaff fort. it was not to be expected that such an affair could take place without considerable loss on both sides. after daybreak the fire recommenced with great fury, and about eight o'clock a regular battle was raging in the trenches between the french and russians. there could not have been less than , men on each side firing as hard as they could, and the lines were marked by thick curling banks of smoke. the fire slackened about nine o'clock. by general orders dated th of january, lord raglan communicated that the russian commanders had entered into an agreement to cease firing whenever a white flag was hoisted to indicate that a burying-party was engaged in front of the batteries. admiral boxer arrived to assume the command of the harbour of balaklava, and by incessant exertions succeeded in carrying out many improvements, and in introducing some order in that focus of feebleness, confusion, and mismanagement. [sidenote: interchange of civilities.] on the st, a spy _walked through some of our trenches_. he was closely shaven, wore a blue frock-coat buttoned up to the chin, and stopped for some time to look at mr. murdoch "bouching" the guns. some said he was a frenchman, others that he "looked like a doctor." no one suspected he was a russian till he bolted towards the russian pickets, under a sharp fire of musketry, through which he had the good luck to pass unscathed. orders were issued, in consequence, to admit no one into the trenches or works without a written permission, and all persons found loitering about the camp were arrested and sent to divisional head-quarters for examination. the french were in the habit of sending out working parties towards the valley of baidar, to cut wood for gabions and fuel. they frequently came across the cossack pickets, and as it was our interest not to provoke hostilities, a kind of good-fellowship sprang up between our allies and the outposts. one day the french came upon three cavalry horses tied up to a tree, and the officer in command ordered them not to be touched. on the same day a chasseur left his belt and accoutrements in a ruined cossack picket-house, and gave up hope of recovering them, but on his next visit he found them on the wall untouched. to requite this act, a soldier who had taken a cossack's lance and pistol, which he found against a tree, was ordered to return them. the next time the french went out, one of the men left a biscuit in a cleft stick, beckoning to the cossack to come and eat it. the following day they found a loaf of excellent bread stuck on a stick in the same place, with a note in russian to the effect that the russians had plenty of biscuits, and that, although greatly obliged for that which had been left, they really did not want it; but if the french had bread to spare like the sample left in return, it would be acceptable. one day a russian called out, as the french were retiring, "nous nous reverrons, mes amis--français, anglais, russes, nous sommes tous amis." the cannonade before sebastopol, the echoes of which reached the remote glades distinctly, must have furnished a strange commentary on the assurance. chapter vi. french demonstration--opinions on the siege--suffering and succour--the cunning cossack--the navy's barrow--appearance of balaklava--supply of water--struggle between the french and the russians--general niel--canards--a spy--omar pash's visit--the bono johnnies--doing nothing--change in the temperature. on the st of february the french made a demonstration on our right and two divisions were marched down towards inkerman, consisting of about , men; but the russians who had been cheering loudly all along our front, did not meet them. every day strengthened the correctness of sir john burgoyne's homely saying about sebastopol--"the more you look at it, the less you will like it." three months before, that officer declared his opinion to be that the place ought to be assaulted. general neil we heard, laughed at the notion of our reducing the place by the fire of our artillery. the thermometer on the th of february stood at °. in the afternoon a party of cossacks with two light field-pieces, were observed crossing the head of the valley towards inkerman, but the russians mustered over the heights and on the ridges between the belbek and the south side of sebastopol. they must have suffered very severely during these cold nights, for they were less able to bear the severity of the climate than our own soldiers, being accustomed to spend their winters in hot close barracks. the cossacks alone are employed in the open country during frost and snow. as the spring advanced, all kinds of aid began to arrive, and even luxuries were distributed. the government sent out stores to be sold at cost price. the crimean army fund opened their magazines, and sold excellent articles of all kinds. our parcels and boxes and christmas presents turned up slowly in the chaos of balaklava. the presents sent by the queen and prince to the guards, in the _st. jean d'acre_, were after a time delivered to the men. lord rokeby was affected to tears when the three regiments paraded, on his taking the command. he communicated a most gratifying letter from the queen to the officers, in which her majesty expressed her admiration of the conduct of "her beloved guards." lord raglan rode into balaklava on the th, and remained some time, inspecting the arrangements. a harbour was assigned for french ships to unload stores for regiments which were nearer to balaklava than to kamiesch. as i was riding out on the same day towards the camp from balaklava with an officer of the scots fusileer guards, i witnessed a refreshing instance of vigilance. we rode towards the woronzoff road, and kept a little too much to our right, so that, happening to look towards the top of a mound about yards distant, the first thing that struck us was the head of a cossack as he crouched down to escape observation. a little in advance was an english soldier, behind him, at the distance of some yards, another soldier was running, shouting, with his firelock at the present. the first man kept walking rapidly on. the other halted and fired. still the fellow kept on, and we were riding up to see what he was, when a dragoon dashed at a gallop from the cavalry picket, and rode between the man and the hill. the soldier turned back with the dragoon, who marched him to the picket-house, and then went up to the other who was a sentry in front of the highland battery, and had run after the would-be deserter, whom he had seen edging up towards the russian lines along the plain. it was amusing to watch the cossack. nothing could be seen of him for the time but his little bullet head over the bank. he evidently imagined that by lying close he might get one of us, but he was disappointed. [sidenote: an impromptu world.] it is strange that the first use--perhaps the only use--the crim-tartar will ever witness of the great invention of recent days should be to facilitate the operations of war and to destroy life.[ ] after the expedition leaves the shores of the crimea, and has become a tradition among its people, the works of our railroad may serve to exercise the ingenuity of cimmerian antiquaries, and form the only permanent mark of our presence on this bloodstained soil. a new wooden world arose in a few days in early february along the hill-side over the road to balaklava. a little town was erected on the right-hand side of the path, about three-quarters of a mile outside balaklava, for the sutlers expelled from the town, in which fires had been suspiciously frequent; and, from the din and clamour, one might imagine he was approaching some well-frequented english fair. a swarm of men, in all sorts of grotesque uniforms, french, english, and turks, thronged the narrow lines between the huts and tents, and carried on bargains in all the languages of babel, with greek, italian, algerine, spaniard, maltese, armenian, jew and egyptian, for all sorts of merchandize. here i beheld a runaway servant of mine--a vagabond italian--selling small loaves of bread for s. each, which he had purchased from a french baker in balaklava for s. d. as the authorities did not interfere in such cases, i was left to solace myself with the poor revenge of seeing him break his shins over a tent-stick as he ran away to escape my horsewhip. in the camp all the scoundrels of the levant who could get across the black sea, were making little fortunes by the sale, at the most enormous prices, of the vilest articles of consumption, which necessity alone forced us to use: and a few honest traders might also be seen sitting moodily in their stalls and mourning over their fast-departing probity. there was not then one englishman, so far as i know, among these sutlers of the british army, though the greatest vein of nuggets that ever charmed multitudes to a desert was as dross and dirt to the wealth to be realized in this festering crowd. camel-drivers, arabajees, wild-eyed, strange-looking savages from out-of the-way corners of asia minor, dressed apparently in the spoils of the chorus of "_nabucco_" or "_semiramide_," stalked curiously through the soldiery, much perplexed by the conflicting emotions of fear of the provost-marshal and love of plunder. then there was an odd-looking acre or two of ground, with a low wall round it, which looked as if all the moles in the world lived beneath it, and were labouring night and day--so covered was it with mounds of earth, through which peered rags and bones. this was the turkish burying-ground, and full well frequented was it. little parties might be seen flocking to it down the hill-sides all day, and returning with the empty litters gravely back again. they also turned one or two vineyards into graveyards, and they also selected a quiet nook up among the hills for the same purpose. our own more decent graveyard was situated outside the town, in low ground, close to the sea. it was soon afterwards crossed by the railway, and covered by sheds, so that all traces of the graves were obliterated. if birnam wood had been formed of deal boards, macbeth might have seen his worst suspicions realized. he would have beheld literally miles of men, and of mules and ponies, all struggling through the mud with boards--nothing but boards. in calm weather they got on well enough, but a puff of wind put an end to progress, and a strong gust laid men and horses in the mire. however, they were slowly working up towards the camp, but how hard it was to take up even one hut, and what a great quantity of timber had to be moved ere the building was complete. the cold and frost had almost disappeared; but the inhabitants warned us not to be misled; march was still to be endured, and we heard that he roared right royally, and came in, and remained in, with bitter cold and very strong winds, and heavy falls of rain, sleet, and snow. march was, in truth, like november. the climate, was beyond all conception fickle. a bird might be singing under the impression that he had done with foul weather, and think of getting ready his nest, and shortly afterwards be knocked down by a blow on the head from a hailstone. an order was issued to supply charcoal in the trenches; but the commissariat could not furnish either the charcoal or transport. in default, the men were obliged to grub out the roots of brushwood or of vines, and were often obliged to go down the hill-sides under the enemy's fire, to gather enough to cook their meals. the "navvies" worked away heartily, pulling down the rickety houses and fragments of houses near the post-office of balaklava, to form the terminus of the first bit of the grand crimean central railway (with branch line to sebastopol). the frail houses dissolved into heaps of rubbish under their vigorous blows, and the more friable remains were carted off and shot into and over the ineffable horrors and nastiness of the turkish plague and charnel-houses. they landed a large quantity of barrows, beams, rails, spades, shovels, picks, and other materials. there was an extremely hot contest on the night of the th, between the french and russians: the cannonade, which sounded all over the camp, lasted about an hour. the enemy, were labouring hard at the works in the rear of the malakoff (or the round tower), and at three o'clock on the th i saw they had about men employed on the earth slopes and parapets of the batteries. while i was examining the place there was scarcely a shot fired for two hours. the small steamers and boats were particularly active, running across the creek and to and fro in the harbour, and everything seemed to go on in the town much the same as usual. one portion of the place containing some fine buildings, and a large church with a cupola, as seen from the picket-house, put one in mind of the view of greenwich from the park observatory through a diminishing glass. lord raglan ordered ten of our -inch mortars to be lent to the french from the _firefly_. [sidenote: a general turn-out.] general niel, expressed a decided opinion that the batteries were too far off. when we first sat down before the place, it was proposed that the first parallel should be at the usual distance of from to yards from the defences; but it was objected that there would be great loss of life in making it so near, and that the old rule of war which fixed the distance of the lines of the besiegers from those of the besieged was abrogated by recent improvements in gunnery, and by the increased power and range of siege guns. our batteries were constructed at upwards of and yards from the enemy, and the steadiness of our artillerymen and the activity of our sailors were frustrated by the length of the range. on the th of february, the french took charge of the whole of the malakoff attack--the key of the position,--and constructed two batteries on our right, under the direction of m. st. laurent. it was said that lord raglan objected to this movement on the part of the french, and suggested that the british should move towards the right, and that the french should take our left attack; but his lordship failed to persuade our allies to accede to his propositions, and they were permitted to overlap and surround the english army. "general rumour" is a very efficient officer in the management of "_alertes_." he is never surprised, and errs rather on the safe side of caution than otherwise. on the morning of the th of february he turned out all the troops in and about balaklava, manned his guns, roused up admiral boxer, awakened captain christie, landed the seamen, mercantile and naval, and taking sir colin campbell and his staff out on the hills, awaited an attack which never was made, but which, no doubt, would have been repelled with signal energy and success. it appeared that a spy passing through the lines of the rifle brigade on his way to the head-quarters of the french army, on being interrogated by a young officer, informed him that the russians had about a sotnia, or demi-troop, in several of the villages towards the eastward of balaklava, such as tchorgoun, and a large body, whom he estimated at , men, in their rear, removing round to the south-east of baidar, so as to approach our right on the heights over balaklava. the rifleman, imparted the result of his inquiries to an officer in a highland regiment. there is no place in the world like a camp for the hatching and development of "_canards_." the egg thus laid was very soon matured, and the young bird stalked forth and went from tent to tent, getting here a feather and there a feather, till it assumed prodigious dimensions and importance. how it became "official" did not come to my knowledge, but at half-past ten o'clock at night orders were sent from sir colin campbell to the regiments along the entrenchments up the heights to hold themselves in readiness for an attack, and the st regiment was marched up to strengthen the bold crest occupied by the rifles and marines. later at night, or early next morning, colonel harding, the commandant of balaklava, roused up the quartermaster-general, major mackenzie, who at once repaired into sir colin campbell's quarters, and learned that this attack was fixed to come off at half-past four or five o'clock a.m. the alarm spread. captain christie sent orders to the large merchant steamers to be in readiness to render all the aid in their power; admiral boxer ordered the men of the _vesuvius_ to be landed, and the sailors of the transports to be armed and in readiness for service. the _wasp_ and _diamond_ cleared for action and moored so as to command the approach of the harbour from the land side. at four o'clock sir colin campbell and his staff mounted the heights up to the rifle camp. it was bright moonlight. a deep blue sky sparkling with stars was streaked here and there by light fleecy clouds of snowy whiteness, which swept slowly across the mountain crags, or darkened the ravines and valleys with their shadows, like masses of infantry on march. scarcely a sound was audible near us, except at long intervals the monotonous cry of the sentries, "number one, and all's well," or the bells striking the hours on board the ships; but artillery and incessant volleys of musketry from the front, told that the french and russians had availed themselves of the moonlight to continue their contest. the roar of the heavy mortars which came booming upon the ear twice or thrice every minute bespoke the deadly use which our allies were making against the city of the beauty of the morning. in the rear, around the deep valleys and on the giant crags towards the sea, all was silent. the men behind the trench which defended our position from balaklava to the seaboard scarcely spoke above a whisper, and were almost lost to sight, but the moonlight played on long lines of bright barrels and sparkling bayonets, which just crested, as it were, the dark outlines of the breastwork, beneath which english, french, and turk were lying in readiness for the enemy. the guns in the redoubts and earthwork batteries were prepared for instant service. all the batteries were fully manned, and, had the enemy come on at that time, he would have met with an astonishingly warm reception. i had been roused out before four o'clock in the morning, but, being rather incredulous in the matter of _alertes_, i had contented myself with getting on my clothes and having the horses saddled. the firing from sebastopol became so very heavy that the echoes sounded as if there was really a conflict taking place, and i went out to the heights. an hour and a half of anxious vigil brought the dawn. all eyes peered through the strange compound of light, formed by the rays of the rising sun and the beams of his fast-declining satellite, to discover the columns of the enemy, but there were none in sight. just as the sun rose, the eternal cossack vedettes came in view on the hill-tops to the east, each figure standing out sharp and black against the glowing background. a few russians were seen about kamara, but it was evident there was no preparation for an attack, and sir colin campbell gave orders for the men to return to their tents. the events of the day, however, proved that the spy brought trustworthy intelligence. the russians returned to the heights over the valley of balaklava towards the left of the tchernaya, and reoccupied the hills and ravines about kamara and tchorgoun in force. [sidenote: narrow escape from flogging.] omar pasha arrived at kamiesch on the th, in the _colombo_; and next day visited general canrobert and lord raglan. these interviews constituted a council of war, and it is reasonable to suppose that the operations of the campaign were finally determined upon and arranged between the allied generals. it rained heavily all night on the th, and the ground was reduced to such a state that the _reconnaissance_ which sir colin campbell, aided by the french, intended to have made was postponed. the atmosphere was so obscure, that it was all but impossible to catch a glimpse of the enemy's movements; but a break in the rain and a lift in the haze now and then enabled us to see them working at some earthworks on the brow of the hills before kamara. they pushed vedettes up to the top of canrobert's hill (formerly the site of redoubt no. , held by the turks previous to the th of october). about the middle of the day three columns, estimated at , men, were observed moving round from their right by the back of kamara towards the hills over baidar with guns. there was a swarm of cossacks between kamara and the road to mackenzie's farm, and their vedettes were posted along the heights over the woronzoff-road. our vedettes on the mound over that road nearest to our lines had also been doubled. some of the cossacks came so close to our front that a shell was fired at them from no. battery, near kadekeeva (kadikoi). an english artilleryman, for some fancied slight, set upon a turk, gave him a beating, and attacked "outrageously" a turkish officer who came to his countryman's assistance. he was found guilty of the double offence by general court-martial, and sentenced to fifty lashes. osman pasha, the commander of the turkish troops, and the officer who had been struck, interceded with lord raglan for the remission of the man's punishment, and his lordship, in general orders, rescinded the sentence of the court-martial. a considerable number of sick men ( ) were sent down on the th from the camp to balaklava. there were many bad cases of scurvy and of scorbutic dysentery among the men; and yet vegetables of all sorts, and lemons and oranges, were to be found in abundance, or could have been purchased in any quantities, all along the shores of the black sea and the sea of marmora. no one could say there were no ships to bring them. balaklava contained ships which had been lying here for weeks--ay, for months--_doing nothing_. the splendid screw steamer _jason_ fitted up especially as a horse transport, came in many days before from ismed laden _with a cargo of wood for fuel_. the expenses of such a large vessel must have been enormous, and yet she had been in harbour for nearly a fortnight doing nothing. the th was a day quite worthy of "general février's" gratitude--bleak, raw, and stormy; the wind raging furiously between intervals of profound calm--the sky invisible in a murky sheet, from which fell incessant showers of rain, sleet, or snow alternately, or altogether--and the landscape shut out of sight at a few yards' distance by the grey walls of drizzling clouds and vapour. it might be imagined that no one who could help it stirred out; a few drenched fatigue parties and some artillery wagons sent down for shot and shell were all one could see between balaklava and the camp, and in the front all was silent--not a gun was fired the greater part of the day, and the popping of rifles also nearly ceased. chapter vii. sickness in the french camp--their system of cooking--ingenuity--a crimean dinner--recipes--cost of a soldier--lord lucan's recal--a reconnaissance--disappointment--an adventure--lose the way--russian attack--activity in the harbour--good view of sebastopol--general appearance--a furious cannonade--an armistice--pen-and-ink work. there was a good deal of sickness in the french camp, and one regiment was said to have suffered as much from scorbutic diseases as any of our own, and to have ceased to exist, like the rd regiment. but the french had no large steamers which they could send to forage in all the ports of asia minor; and, with their deficient transport, they had less sickness and less loss of life from disease cent. per cent. than our troops, while they were better provided with food and soldiers' luxuries. had the french army undergone the same amount of vigil, labour, and fatigue to which our army was exposed, i am convinced it would have been in as bad a plight, and that it would have suffered very nearly the same losses. their system of cooking was better; their system of hutting was better; instead of having twelve or fourteen miserable, gloomy fellows, sitting moodily together in one tent, where each man ate his meal, cooked or uncooked, as best he could, they had four men together in a tent, who were neither miserable nor gloomy as a general rule, because they had a good dish of soup and bouilli well made at the mess fire, and carried away "piping hot" in the camp kettle of the tent. the canvass of the _tente_ was in bad weather only a roof to a deep pit in the shape of the parallelogram formed by the flaps of the canvass. this pit was dug out of the earth; it contained a little fireplace at one end, with a mud chimney outside, and was entered by a flight of two or three steps, which descended to the dry floor. our men rarely dug out the earth, and their tents were generally pitched on the surface of the ground. they had no time to do any better. [sidenote: new recipe for cooking mutton.] in cooking, our neighbours beat us hollow. i partook of a sumptuous banquet in the tent of an officer of the guards one night, the staple of which was a goose, purchased for a golden egg in balaklava, but which assumed so many forms, and was so good and strange in all--coming upon one as a _pièce de résistance_, again assuming the shape of a _giblotte_ that would have done credit to philippe, and again turning up as a delicate little _plat_ with a flavour of woodcocks, that the name of the artist was at once demanded. he was a grisly-headed zouave, who stood at the door of the tent, prouder of the compliments which were paid to him than of the few francs he was to get for his services, "lent," as he was, by the captain of his company for the day. a few days after--these were christmas times, or were meant to be so--there was a dinner in another friendly tent. a samaritan sea-captain had presented a mess with a leg of english mutton, a case of preserved turnips, and a wild duck. hungry as hunters, the little party assembled at the appointed hour, full of anticipated pleasure and good fare from the fatherland. "bankes, bring in dinner," said the host, proudly, to his _chef de cuisine_. the guests were seated--the cover was placed on the table--it was removed with enthusiasm, and, lo! there lay the duck, burnt black, and dry as charcoal, in the centre of a mound of turnips. "i thout vowls wor always ate vurst," was the defence of the wretched criminal, as he removed the sacrifice for the time. then he brought in the soup, which was excellent, especially the bouilli, but we could not eat soup all night, especially when the mutton was waiting. "now then, bankes, bring in the leg of mutton." "the wawt, zur?" "the leg of mutton, and look sharp, do you hear? i hope you have not spoiled _that_ too." "woy, zur, thee's been 'atin oo't!" the miserable being had actually _boiled_ down the leg of mutton in the soup, having cut large slices off it to make it fit the pot! we had great fun with the recipes for cooking rations which appeared in the papers. m. soyer's were good and simple, but every one of them had been found out by experiment months before, and were familiar, however little successful, to every camp cook. the recipes which taught the men how to make rations palatable by the help of a "sliced turkey," nutmegs, butter, flour, spices, and suet, were cruel mockeries. can any one tell us why the army was _compelled_ to eat salt pork? why was this the only meat except beef that was served out? the lean was always very hard and tough, and required great care and trouble in cooking to make it masticable--the fat was ever in undue proportion to the lean, and was far too "rich" for a debilitated stomach. are "pigs" a national institution, to be maintained at any cost? is the flesh of the bull a part of the constitution? a soldier is a very dear animal. a crop of them is most difficult to raise, and once they have been fully grown, and have become ripe soldiers, they are beyond all price. had we not abundance of meals in our warehouses, of vegetables, of all kinds of nutritious preparations, to bestow on those who were left to us, and who were really "veterans," for in the narrow limits of one campaign they had epitomized all the horrors, the dangers, and the triumphs of war? the ration, with its accessories of sugar, tea or coffee, tobacco and rice, was sufficient, as long as it was unfailing, and while the army was in full health; but it was not sufficient, or, rather, it was not suitable, when the men were debilitated from excessive labour. what was the cost to the country of the men of the brigade of guards who died in their tents or in hospital of exhaustion, overwork, and deficient of improper nutriment? the brigade mustered in the middle of february very little over men fit for duty. it would have been _cheap_ to have fed the men we had lost on turtle and venison, if we could have kept them alive--and not only those, but the poor fellows whom the battle spared, but whom disease took from us out of every regiment in the expedition. it was the _men_ who were to be pitied--the officers could, in comparison, take care of themselves; they had their bât-horses to go over to kamiesch and to balaklava for luxuries; their servants to send for poultry, vegetables, wine, preserved meats, sheep, and all the luxuries of the sutlers' shops; and they had besides abundance of money, for the pay of the subaltern is ample while he is in the field. sir george brown arrived on the th, and lord raglan went down to meet him, and returned with him to head-quarters. the gallant old officer seemed to have quite recovered from the effects of his inkerman wound, and was well received by his division. on the th the great topic of conversation was the recall of the earl of lucan. on the previous forenoon lord raglan sent the noble lord a dispatch which he had received from the duke of newcastle, who stated that as he had thought fit to find fault with the terms used in his general's despatch respecting his conduct on the th of october, the government had resolved on recalling him. the impression was that lord lucan was harshly and unjustly dealt with. on february th, preparations were made for a _reconnaissance_ by sir colin campbell and vinoy against the enemy between the tchernaya and kamara. the weather had been unfavourable, but the few fine days from the th to the th had made the country in tolerable order for the movements of artillery and cavalry. the french were to furnish , men; sir colin campbell's force was to consist of the nd, th, rd highlanders, the th and st regts. detachments of cavalry, and two batteries. soon after dark the french began to get ready, and the hum of men betrayed the movement. by degrees the rumour spread from one confidant to the other, and by midnight a good number of outriders and amateurs were aware of what was going on, and strict orders were issued for early calls and saddling of horses "to-morrow morning at dawn." nothing excites such interest as a _reconnaissance_. our army was deprived of the peculiar attractions of most wars in europe. there was none of the romance of the peninsular campaigns about it. we were all shut up in one dirty little angle of land, with cossacks barring the approaches to the heavenly valley around us. there were no pleasant marches, no halts in town or village, no strange scenes or change of position; nothing but the drudgery of the trenches and of fatigue parties, and the everlasting houses and works of sebastopol, and the same bleak savage landscape around. the hardest-worked officer was glad, therefore, to get away on a _reconnaissance_, which gave him an excitement, and varied the monotony of his life; it was a sort of holiday for him--a hunt at epping, if there be such a thing, to cockney existence. [sidenote: severe effects of the cold.] before midnight the wind changed, and began to blow, and the stars were overcast. about one o'clock the rain began to fall heavily, and continued to descend in torrents for an hour. then the wind chopped round to the north and became intensely cold, the rain crystallized and fell in hail, the gale rose higher and increased in severity every moment. then came down a heavy snow fall. it was evident that no good could come of exposing the men, and that the attack would be a failure; it certainly would not have enabled us to form any accurate conception of the numbers or position of the enemy, inasmuch as it was impossible for a man to see a yard before him. major foley was despatched by general canrobert to inform sir colin campbell that the french would not move, the regiments under arms were ordered back to their tents, which they found with difficulty. when major foley arrived after many wanderings, at head-quarters, one of lord raglan's aides-de-camp was dispatched to sir colin campbell to desire him to postpone any movement. this officer set out about six o'clock in the morning for the heights over balaklava. on passing through the french camp he called upon general vinoy to inform him of the change which the weather had effected in the plans agreed upon, but the general said he thought it would be better to move down his men to support sir colin in case the latter should have advanced before the counter-orders reached him. when our aide-de-camp, after a struggle with the darkness, reached sir colin's quarters, the general was gone. another ride enabled him to overtake the general, who was waiting for the french, and had his troops drawn up near kamara. it may be imagined the news was not very pleasing to one who was all on fire, cold as he was, for a brush with the enemy, but vinoy's promise put him into excellent spirits. it was four o'clock when the troops moved towards the plain, through the snow-storm, which increased in violence as the morning dawned. the rifles preceded the advance, with the highland light infantry, in skirmishing order. strict orders had been given that there was to be no firing, it was hoped that we might surprise the enemy, but the falling snow prevented our men from seeing more than a few yards, and after daylight it was impossible to make out an object six feet in advance. however, the skirmishers managed to get hold of three sentries, belonging probably to the picket at kamara, but their comrades gave the alarm. as our troops advanced, the cossacks and vedettes fell back, firing their carbines and muskets into the darkness. the drums of the enemy were heard beating, and through rifts in the veil of snow their columns could be observed moving towards the heights over the tchernaya. by this time our men had begun to suffer greatly. their fingers were so cold they could not "fix bayonets" when the word was given, and could scarcely keep their rifles in their hands. the cavalry horses almost refused to face the snow. the highlanders, who had been ordered to take off their comfortable fur caps, and to put on their becoming but less suitable scotch bonnets, suffered especially, and some of them were severely frostbitten in the ears--indeed, there was not a regiment out in which cases of "gelatio," chiefly of the ears and fingers, did not occur. scarcely had the enemy appeared in sight before the snow fell more heavily than ever, and hid them from our view. sir collin very unwillingly gave the order to return, and the men arrived at their quarters about ten o'clock a.m., very much fatigued. being anxious to get a letter off by the post ere it started from kamiesch, and not being aware that the expedition had been countermanded, i started early in the morning for the post-office marquee through a blinding storm of snow. the wind howled fiercely over the plain; it was so laden with snow that it was quite palpable, and had a strange _solid_ feel about it as it drifted in endless wreaths of fine small flakes, which penetrated the interstices of the clothing, and blinded horse and man. for some time i managed to get on very well, for the track was beaten and familiar. i joined a convoy of artillerymen, but at last the drifts became so thick that it was utterly impossible to see to the right or left for a horse's length. i bore away a little, and soon after met a solitary pedestrian, who wanted to know the way to balaklava. i sincerely trust he got there by my directions. as he was coming from lord raglan's he confirmed me in the justice of my views concerning the route, and i rode off to warn my friends, the artillerymen of their mistake. they were not to be found. i had only left them three or four minutes, and yet they had passed away as completely as if the earth had swallowed them up. so i turned on my way, as i thought, and, riding right into the wind's eye, made at the best pace i could force the horse to put forth, for my destination. it was not above an hour's ride on a bad day, and yet at the end of two hours i had not only not arrived, but i could not make out one of the landmarks which denoted an approach to it. tents, and hill-sides, and jutting rocks, all had disappeared, and nothing was visible above, around, below, but one white sheet drawn, as it were, close around me. this was decidedly unpleasant, but there was no help for it but to ride on, and trust to providence. the sea or the lines would soon bring one up. still the horse went on snorting out the snow from his nostrils, and tossing his head to clear the drift from his eyes and ears; and yet no tent, no man--not a soul to be seen in this peninsula, swarming with myriads of soldiery. [sidenote: a lucky escape.] three hours passed!--where on earth can i be? is this enchantment? has the army here, the lines of trenches, and sebastopol itself, gone clean off the face of the earth? every instant the snow fell thicker and thicker. the horse stopped at last, and refused to go on against the storm. a dark form rushed by with a quick snarling bark--it is a wolf or a wild dog, and the horse rushed on afrighted. the cold pierced my bones as he faced the gale, now and then he plunged above the knees into snow-drifts, which were rapidly forming at every hillock and furrow in the ground; a good deep fallow--a well or pit--might have put a speedy termination to one's fears and anxiety at a moment's notice. my eyes were bleared and sore striving to catch a glimpse of tent or man, and to avoid the dangers in our path. suddenly i plunged in amongst a quantity of brushwood--sure and certain signs that i had gone far astray indeed, and that i was removed from the camp and the wood-cutter. the notion flashed across me that the wind might have changed, and that in riding against it i might have shaped my course for the tchernaya and the russian lines. the idea of becoming the property of a cossack picket was by no means a pleasant ingredient in one's thoughts at such a moment. still what was to be done? my hands and feet were becoming insensible from the cold, and my face and eyes were exceedingly painful. there was no help for it but to push on before nightfall. that would indeed have been a serious evil. there was a break in the snowdrift, and i saw to my astonishment a church dome and spires which vanished in a moment. i must either be close to kamara or to sebastopol, and that the church was in either of those widely separated localities. the only thing to do was to bear to the left to regain our lines, though i could not help wondering where on earth the french works were, if it was indeed sebastopol. i had not ridden very far when, through the ravings of the wind, i heard a hoarse roar, and could just make out a great black wall rising up through the snow. the position was clear at once. i was on the edge of the tremendous precipices which overhang the sea near cape fiolente! i was close to the monastery of st. george. dismounting, and leading my horse carefully, i felt my way through the storm, and at last arrived at the monastery. a zouave was shooting larks out of a sentry-box; he took my horse to the stable, and showed me the way to the guardhouse, where his comrades were enjoying the comforts of a blazing fire. having restored circulation to my blood, and got the ice out of my hair, i set out once more, and a zouave undertook to show me the way to head-quarters; but he soon got tired of his undertaking, and having first adroitly abstracted my colt's revolver out of my holster, deserted me on the edge of a ravine, with some very mysterious instructions as to going on always "_tout droit_," which, seeing that one could not see, would have been very difficult to follow. by the greatest good fortune i managed to strike upon the french wagon train, and halting at every outburst of the tempest, and pushing on when the storm cleared a little, i continued to work my way from camp to camp, and at last arrived at head-quarters, somewhat before four o'clock in the afternoon, covered with ice, and very nearly "done up." it was some consolation to find that officers had lost themselves in the very vineyard, close to the house, and that aides-de-camp and orderlies had become completely bewildered in their passage from one divisional camp to another. the russians during the night made a slight demonstration against us, thinking that the sentries and advanced posts might be caught sleeping or away from their posts. their usual mode of conducting a sortie was to send on some thirty men in advance of a party of or , in loose skirmishing order. these men advanced stealthily, _en tirailleur_, up to the line of our sentries and pickets, and felt their way cautiously, in order to ascertain if there was a weak and undefended point for the advance of the main body. if the firing was slack, the latter immediately pushed on, rushed into the trenches, bayoneted as many as resisted, and, dragging off all the men they could get as prisoners, returned to the town as rapidly as possible. any man, however weak, can rush across a landing into the nearest room, and do damage in it before he is kicked out. the french were so close to the russians, they might be said to live next door to them. the latter could form in a small body, under cover of their works, at any hour in the night, and dash into the works ere our allies could get together to drive them back again. some thirty-five men advanced upon the sentries stationed in front of major chapman's batteries (the left attack), but were perceived and challenged. they replied "ruski!" and were fired upon. the riflemen in the pits in front of these lines gave them a volley, and the tirailleurs retreated. it was strange they should have given such a reply to the sentries' challenge, but the men all declared that the russians used the word, which would seem to be the russians' notion of their own name in the english tongue. next day the sun came out, the aspect of the camps changed, and our french neighbours filled the air with their many-oathed dialogues and snatches of song. a cold frenchman is rather a morose and miserable being, but his spirits always rise with sunshine, like the mercury of a thermometer. in company with two officers from the head-quarters camp, i had a long inspection of sebastopol from the ground behind the french position, and i must say the result was by no means gratifying. we went up to the french picket-house first (_la maison d'eau_ or _maison blanche_ of the plans), and had a view of the left of the town, looking down towards the end of the ravine which ran down to the dockyard-creek, the buildings of the admiralty, the north side of the harbour, and the plateaux towards the belbek and behind inkerman. as the day was clear one could see very well through a good glass, in spite of the dazzling effect of the snow and the bitter wind, which chilled the hands so as to render it impossible to retain the glass very long in one position. the little bridge of boats from the admiralty buildings across to the french side of the town was covered with men, who were busily engaged passing across supplies, and rolling barrels and cases to the other side of the creek, showing that there was a centre of supply or some kind of depôt in the government stores behind the redan, and opposite to the fire of our batteries. [sidenote: a peep at sebastopol.] several large lighters, under sail and full of men, were standing over from side to side of the harbour, and dockyard galleys, manned with large crews of rowers all dressed in white jackets, were engaged in tugging flats laden with stores to the south-western side of the town. a tug steamer was also very active, and spluttered about in all directions, furrowing the surface of the water, which was scarcely "crisped" by the breeze, so completely was the harbour landlocked. the men-of-war, with their large white ensigns barred by a blue st. andrew's cross flying from the peak, lay in a line at the north side, the top-gallant yards and masts of two out of four being down; a two-decker with bare topmasts lay on the south side, with her broadside towards the ville civile; and the white masts of three vessels peered above the buildings of the town further away on the right towards inkerman. the inner part of the town itself seemed perfectly untouched, the white houses shone brightly and freshly in the sun, and the bells of a gothic chapel were ringing out lustily in the frosty air. its tall houses running up the hill sides, its solid look of masonry, gave sebastopol a resemblance to parts of bath, or at least put one in mind of that city as seen from the declivity which overhangs the river. there was, however, a remarkable change in the look of the city since i first saw it--there were no idlers and no women visible in the streets, and, indeed, there was scarcely a person to be seen who looked like a civilian. there was, however, abundance of soldiers, and to spare in the streets. they could be seen in all directions, sauntering in pairs down desolate-looking streets, chatting at the corners or running across the open space, from one battery to another; again in large parties on fatigue duty, or relieving guards, or drawn up in well-known grey masses in the barrack-squares. among those who were working on the open space, carrying stores, i thought i could make out two french soldiers. at all events, the men wore long blue coats and red trousers, and, as we worked our prisoners and made them useful at balaklava, where i had seen them aiding in making the railway, i suppose the muscovite commanders adopted the same plan. outside the city, at the verge of the good houses, the eye rested on great walls of earth piled up some ten or twelve feet, and eighteen or twenty feet thick, indented at regular intervals with embrasures in which the black dots which are throats of cannon might be detected. these works were of tremendous strength. for the most part there was a very deep and broad ditch in front of them, and wherever the ground allowed of it, there were angles and _flèches_ which admitted of flanking fires along the front, and of cross fires on centre points of each line of attack or approach. in front of most of the works on both the french and english sides of the town, a suburb of broken-down white-washed cottages, the roofs gone, the doors off, and the windows out, had been left standing in detached masses at a certain distance from the batteries, but gaps had been made in them so that they might not block the fire of the guns. the image of misery presented by these suburbs was very striking--in some instances the havoc had been committed by our shot, and the houses all round to the rear of the flagstaff battery, opposite the french, had been blown into rubbish and mounds of beams and mortar. the advanced works which the russians left on the advance of our allies still remained and it was hard to say whether there were any guns in them or not, but they were commanded so completely by the works in their rear that it would have been impossible to hold them, and they would have afforded a good cover to the russians, while the latter could fire through the embrasures of the old works with far greater ease than the enemy could get at them. they threw up their new earthworks behind the cover of the suburb; when they were finished, they withdrew their men from the outer line, blew down and destroyed the cover of the houses, and opened fire from their second line of batteries. their supply of gabions seemed inexhaustible--indeed, they had got all the brushwood of the hills of the south crimea at their disposal. in front of the huge mounds thrown up by the russians, foreshortened by the distance, so as to appear part of them, were the french trenches--mounds of earth lined with gabions which looked like fine matting. these lines ran parallel to those of the enemy. the nearest parallel was not "armed" with cannon, but was lined with riflemen. zigzags led down from trench to trench. the troops inside walked about securely, if not comfortably. the covering parties, with their arms piled, sat round their little fires, and smoked and enjoyed their coffee, while the working parties, spade in hand, continued the never-ending labours of the siege--filling gabions here, sloping and thickening the parapets there, repairing embrasures, and clearing out the fosses. where we should have had a thin sergeant's guard at this work, the french could afford a strong company. it was rather an unpleasant reflection, whenever one was discussing the range of a missile, and was perhaps in the act of exclaiming "there's a splendid shot," that it might have carried misery and sorrow into some happy household. the smoke cleared away--the men got up--they gathered round one who moved not, or who was racked with mortal agony; they bore him away, a mere black speck, and a few shovelsful of mud marked for a little time the resting-place of the poor soldier, whose wife, or mother, or children, or sisters, were left destitute of all solace, save memory and the sympathy of their country. one such little speck i watched that day, and saw quietly deposited on the ground inside the trench. who would let the inmates of that desolate cottage in picardy, or gascony, or anjou, know of their bereavement? [sidenote: a reconnaissance.] we descended the hill slope towards upton's house, then occupied by a strong picket of the french, under the command of a couple of officers. from the front of this position one could see the heights over inkerman, the plateau towards the belbek, the north side, the flank of the military town opposite the english, our own left attack, and the rear of the redoubtable tower of malakoff. the first thing that struck one was the enormous preparations on the north side, extending from the sea behind fort constantine far away to the right behind inkerman towards the belbek. the trenches, batteries, earthworks, and redoubts all about the citadel (the north fort) were on an astonishing scale, and indicated an intention on the part of the russians to fall back on the north side, in case of our occupying the south side of the place.[ ] about three o'clock three strong bodies of cavalry came down towards the fort, as if they had been in the direction of the alma or the katcha. they halted for a time, and then resumed their march to the camp over inkerman. in this direction also the enemy were busily working, and their cantonments were easily perceptible, with the men moving about in them. at the rear of the round tower, however, the greatest energy was displayed, and a strong party of men were at work on new batteries between it and the ruined suburb on the commanding hill on which the malakoff stood. our own men in the left attack seemed snug enough, and well covered by their works; in front of them, on the slopes, were men, french and english, scattered all over the hill side, grubbing for roots for fuel; and further on, in front, little puffs of smoke marked the pits of the riflemen on both sides, from which the ceaseless crack of the minié and liège smote the ear; but the great guns were all silent, and scarcely one was fired on the right during the day; even inkerman and its spiteful batteries being voiceless for a wonder. as one of the officers began to rub his nose and ears with snow, and to swear they were frostbitten, and as we all felt very cold, we discontinued our _reconnaissance_, and returned to camp. the wind blew keenly, and at night the thermometer was at °. there were few cases of illness in the trenches; but sickness kept on increasing. typhus fever, thank god! nearly disappeared. major-general jones declared the position was not so strong as he expected to find it from the accounts he had heard, but it was only to the eye of a practised engineer that any signs of weakness presented themselves. the heights over the sea bristled with low batteries, with the guns couchant and just peering over the face of the cliffs. vast as these works were, the russians were busy at strengthening them. not less than , men could have been employed on the day in question on the ground about the citadel. one could see the staff-officers riding about and directing the labours of the men, or forming into groups, and warming themselves round the camp fires. i was woke up shortly after two o'clock on the morning of the th of february by the commencement of one of the most furious cannonades since the siege began. the whole line of the russian batteries from our left opened with inconceivable force and noise, and the inkerman batteries began playing on our right; the weight of this most terrible fire, which shook the very earth, and lighted up the skies with incessant lightning flashes for an hour and a half, was directed against the french. the cannonade lasted from a quarter-past two to half-past three a.m. when first i heard it, i thought it was a sortie, and rode in the moonlight towards the fire; but ere i could get over the ground to inkerman, the tumult ceased, and it was only next morning that we found out the cause of such a tremendous exhibition of power. it appeared that the activity of the french in making their approaches against the malakoff had rendered the russians so uneasy that they began to make counter approaches, and pushed out trenches to rifle-pits placed on the mamelon and on the head of careening creek ravine. these were observed by the french, and general bosquet, acting by order of general canrobert, directed general de monet and general de meyran to attack these works with , of the nd zouaves, a battalion of the th of the line, a battalion of the th of the line, and a strong body of marines; that operation was effected about two a.m. the russians offered a very vigorous resistance, the zouaves were not properly supported by the marines, or the troops of the line. de monet was badly wounded; he lost one hand, and the other was much mutilated. in the conflict the zouaves lost officers killed, wounded, missing, men killed and wounded. the zouaves were exceedingly irritated against the marine infantry, whom they threatened in detail with exceedingly unpleasant "quarters of an-hour" at some time to come for their alleged retreat on the morning of the th. the zouaves got it into their heads not only that the marines bolted, but that they fired into those before them, who were the zouaves aforesaid. in their excessive anger and energy they were as unjust to their comrades, perhaps, as they were complimentary to ourselves, and i heard more than two of them exclaim, "ah, if we had had a few hundred of your english we should have done the trick; but these marines--bah!" on the night after this contest the enemy sunk four or five ships inside the booms, so as to present a fourth barrier across the roads. an armistice took place for an hour on the th. in the orders for the day, lord raglan notified that at the request of general osten-sacken, an armistice was granted from twelve till one o'clock to enable the russians to bury their dead. at twelve o'clock precisely, white flags were run up on the battery flagstaffs on both sides, and immediately afterwards a body of russians issued from their new work near the malakoff, which had been the object of the french attack of the th, and proceeded to search for their dead. the french were sent down from inkerman on a similar errand. a few russian officers advanced about half-way up towards our lines, where they were met by some of the officers of the allies, and extreme courtesy, the interchange of profound salutations, and enormous bowing, marked the interview. the officers sauntered up and down, and shakos were raised and caps doffed politely as each came near an enemy. [sidenote: a novel and astonishing sight.] the exact object of the armistice it would have been hard to say, for neither french nor russians seemed to find any bodies unburied. shortly before one o'clock, the russians retired inside their earthwork. at one o'clock the white flags were all hauled down in an instant, and the last fluttering bit of white bunting had scarcely disappeared over the parapet, when the flash, and roar of a gun from malakoff announced that the war had begun once more. the french almost simultaneously fired a gun from their batteries also; in a minute afterwards the popping of rifles commenced as usual on both sides. the cossacks about balaklava were particularly busy, and, having nothing better to do, i spent an hour watching them through my glass from the artillery camp at kadikoi. they had a picket of ten horsemen at kamara, from which the vedettes on the top of canrobert's hill were furnished, and they had a similar body of eight horsemen on the slope at the back of no. redoubt. there were a few regular hussars in a handsome dark blue or green uniform, with white belts, on duty as sentries. the horses seemed to follow the cossacks about like dogs. the men all wore long loose grey coats and round fur caps. they could not be very badly off for provisions, inasmuch as the fields behind them towards the slope of the hill to mackenzie's farm were tolerably well filled with cattle. from the top of canrobert's hill their vedette could see everything that went on in the plains, from the entrance to balaklava to the ridges on which the french right rested. not a horse, cart, or man, could go in or out of the town which this sentinel could not see if he had good eyesight, for he was quite visible to any person who gazed on the top of canrobert's hill. the works of the railway must have caused this cossack very serious discomposure. what on earth could he think of them? gradually he saw villages of white huts rise up on the hill-sides and in the recesses of the valleys, and from the cavalry camp to the heights of balaklava, he could behold line after line of snug angular wooden buildings, each with its chimney at work, and he could discern the tumult and bustle of vanity fair. this might have been all very puzzling, but it could have been nothing to the excitement of looking at a long line of black trucks rushing round and under the hill at kadikoi, and running down the incline to the town at the rate of twenty miles an hour. a number of the cossacks did gallop up to the top of the hill to look at a phenomenon of that kind, and they went capering about, and shaking their lances, in immense wonderment and excitation of spirits when it had disappeared. in addition to the old lines thrown up by liprandi close to the woronzoff road, the russians erected, to the rear and north of it, a very large hexagonal work, capable of containing a large number of men, and of being converted into a kind of intrenched camp. the lines of these works were very plain as they were marked out by the snow, which lay in the trench after that which fell on the ground outside and inside had melted. there were, however, no infantry in sight, nor did any movement of troops take place over the valley of the tchernaya. emboldened by the success of the th, the russians were apparently preparing to throw up another work on the right of the new trenches, as if they had made up their minds to besiege the french at inkerman, and assail their right attack. they sent up two steamers to the head of the harbour, which greatly annoyed the right attack, and it occurred to captain peel, of the _diamond_, that it would be quite possible to get boats down to the water's edge and cut these steamers out, or sink them. lord raglan and sir edmund lyons reconnoitred their position, but on reflection the latter refused to sanction an operation which would have gone far to raise the prestige of our navy, and to maintain their old character for dash and daring. [sidenote: scarcity of boots and shoes.] book v. the commencement of active operations--the spring--reinforcements--the second bombardment--its failure--third bombardment, and failure--period of preparation. chapter i. preparations--the railway in use--vanity fair, or buffalo town--intrusion--flowers and birds--exciting sport--first spring meeting--rumours--the turkish levies--the electric telegraph--news of the death of nicholas--mismanagement--progress of the siege works--jack in clover--improved condition of the army--admiral boxer--council of war--affair between the russians and the french. it froze on the night of the st of march. the thermometer was at twenty-four degrees at two a.m. next morning, the wind strong and very cold. it was scarcely to be believed that, with all our immense stores of warm clothing, boots and shoes were at that time by no means plentiful in the army. about three hundred pairs of boots were served out to the th regiment, which was employed in fatigue duty in and near balaklava; but the thick heavy clay sucked the soles off, and for a week some of the men went about without any soles to their boots--_ergo_, their feet were on the ground, with the thermometer at thirty degrees: that was not agreeable locomotion. about sick men were sent in from the front to balaklava on french ambulance mules, and were received and refreshed at the caradoc restaurant. the preparations for the renewal of our fire were pressed on; and arrangements were made to send up rounds a day to the front. about mules were pressed into this service in addition to the railway, and the highlanders and the artillery horses were employed in the carriage of heavy shell to the front, a duty which greatly distressed them. the men of the fourth division, the th and th regiments, were armed with the minié rifle. the silence and calm were but the omens of the struggle which was about to be renewed for the possession of sebastopol. the russians were silent because the allies did not impede their works. the allies were silent because they were preparing for the contest, and were using every energy to bring up from kamiesch and balaklava the enormous mounds of projectiles and mountains of ammunition which were required for the service of the new batteries and to extend, complete, and strengthen their offensive and defensive lines and trenches. the railway had begun to render us some service in saving the hard labour attendant on the transport of shot and shell, and enabled us to form a sort of small terminal depôt at the distance of two miles and three quarters from balaklava, which was, however, not large enough for the demands upon it, and it was emptied as soon as it was formed by parties of the highland brigade, who carried the ammunition to the camp depôt, three miles and a half further on. the railway was not sufficiently long to induce mr. filder to avail himself of it largely for the transport of provisions to the front, as he conceived a partial use of it would impede the formation of the rail, derange his own commissariat transport, and produce endless confusion at the temporary terminus. the commissariat officers of the second division were, however, allowed to use the rail between six and eight o'clock every morning. the navvies, notwithstanding the temptation of the bottle and of strange society in vanity fair or buffalo-town, worked honestly and well, with few exceptions, and the dread of the provost-marshal had produced a wholesome influence on the dispositions of the refractory. the croat labourers astonished all who saw them by the enormous loads they carried, and by their great physical strength and endurance. broad-chested, flat-backed men, round-shouldered, with long arms, lean flanks, thick muscular thighs, and their calfless legs--feeding simply, and living quietly and temperately--the croats performed daily an amount of work in conveying heavy articles on their backs which would amaze any one who had not seen a constantinople "hamal." their camp, outside the town, was extremely picturesque, and, i am bound to add, dirty. a rich flavour of onions impregnated the air for a considerable distance around, mingled with reminiscences of ancient parmesan, and the messes which the nasty-handed phillises dressed for themselves did not look very inviting, but certainly contained plenty of nutriment, and were better, i dare say, than the tough pork and tougher biscuit of our own ration. the men were like greeks of the isles in dress, arms, and carriage, but they had an expression of honest ferocity, courage, and manliness in their faces, which at once distinguished them from their hellenic brethren. we had also a number of strong "hamals" in our service, who were very useful as beasts of burden to the commissariat. [sidenote: flowers and birds of the chersonese.] parties of men were lent to mr. beatty to assist in the works of the railway, and men of the naval brigade detailed in order that the construction of it might be hastened and facilitated as much as possible. i was favoured by a striking proof of the energy of the proceedings of the navvies one day. i had left my delectable premises in their usual condition, in balaklava, as i did each week, to spend some days going from division to division, and regiment to regiment: outside my den a courtyard of abominations unutterable, the favourite resort of tartar camel-drivers, when they had a few moments to devote to the pursuit of parasites, and of drunken sailors, who desired dignified retirement from the observation of the provost-marshal's myrmidons, was surrounded by a wall which enclosed a few old poplar trees and a ruined shed, in which stood some horses. i left on one post-day and returned on another, and it was with difficulty i recognised the spot. a railway was running right across my court-yard, the walls were demolished, a severance existed between the mansion and its dependencies, and just as my friends and myself entered the "saloon and bedchamber"--a primitive apartment, through the floor of which i could investigate the proceedings of my quadrupeds below--the navvies gave us a startling welcome by pulling a poplar down on the roof, which had the effect of carrying away a portion of the balcony, and pent-tiles, and smashing in my two windows elegantly "glazed" with boards. unusual energy was displayed in most departments. the word "must" was heard. whether its use was attributable to the pressure of the french, to instructions from home, to the necessity which existed for it, or to any specific cause, i am unable to surmise. certain it is that officers were told that so many guns _must_ be in the batteries on such a day, and that such a work _must_ be finished by such a time, and a _general_ visited the trenches every day, and saw that the men did not neglect their duty. general simpson, as a chef d'etat-major, was expected to harmonize the operations of the quarter-master general's and adjutant-general's departments. a sanatorium was established on balaklava heights. the soil, wherever a flower had a chance of springing up, poured forth multitudes of snowdrops, crocuses, and hyacinths. the chersonese abounds in bulbous plants, some of great beauty, and rare shrubs. the finches and larks had a valentine's-day of their own, and congregated in flocks. brilliant goldfinches, buntings, golden-crested wrens, larks, linnets, titlarks, tomtits, hedge sparrows, and a pretty species of wagtail, were very common; and it was strange to hear them piping and twittering about the bushes in the intervals of the booming of cannon, just as it was to see the young spring flowers forcing their way through the crevices of piles of shot, and peering out from under shells and heavy ordnance. cormorants and shags haunted the head of the harbour, which was also resorted to by some rare and curious wildfowl, one like the _anas sponsa_[ ] of linnæus, another the golden-eyed pocher, and many sorts of widgeon and diver. vultures, kites, buzzards, and ravens wheeled over the plateau in hundreds at a time for two or three days, disappeared, and returned to feast on garbage. probably they divided their attention between the allies and the russians. the tchernaya abounded with duck, and some of the officers had little decoys of their own. it was highly exciting sport, for the russian batteries over inkerman sent a round shot or shell at the sportsman if he was seen. in the daytime they adopted the expedient of taking a few french soldiers down with them, who, out of love of the thing, and for the chance of a _bonnemain_, were only too happy to occupy the attention of the cossacks, while their patrons were after mallard. there were bustards and little bustards on the steppes near the monastery of st. george, and the cliffs presented an appearance which led two or three officers acquainted with australia to make fruitless searches for gold ore. the ravines abounded with jasper, bloodstone, and there was abundance of "black sand" in the interstices of the rocks, which were of exceeding hardness; but south-west of st. george, there were fountains of the fine blue limestone. on the th of march the french and russians had a severe brush about daybreak. generals canrobert, niel, bosquet, bizot rode over to the english head-quarters in the course of the day, and were closeted with lord raglan, assisted by sir george brown, sir john burgoyne, and general jones. they met to consider a proposition made by general canrobert to attack the north side, by the aid of the turks, as it seemed to him quite hopeless to attempt to drive the russians from inkerman. on the morning of the th of march early there was a repetition of the affair between the french and russians, who began throwing a new redoubt towards the victoria redoubt. in order to strengthen our right, which the enemy menaced more evidently every day, the whole of the ninth division of the french army was moved over there. our first spring meeting took place on the th, numerously attended. the races came off on a little piece of undulating ground, on the top of the ridges near karanyi, and were regarded with much interest by the cossack pickets at kamara and on canrobert's hill. they thought at first that the assemblage was connected with some military demonstration, and galloped about in a state of excitement, but it is to be hoped they got a clearer notion of the real character of the proceedings ere the sport was over. [sidenote: war a creator as well as a destroyer.] in the midst of the races a party of russians were seen approaching the vedette on no. old redoubt in the valley. the dragoon fired his carbine, and ten turned and fled, but two deserters came in. one of them was an officer; the other had been an officer, but had suffered degradation for "political causes." they were poles, and the ex-officer spoke french and german fluently. they expressed great satisfaction at their escape, and the latter said, "send me wherever you like, provided that i never see russia again." they stated that they had deceived the men who were with them into the belief that the vedette was one of their own outposts, and advanced boldly till the dragoon fired on them, when they discovered their mistake. the deserters state that a corps of about men had joined the army between baidar and simpheropol. on being taken to sir colin campbell, they requested that the horses might be sent back to the russian lines, for, as they did not belong to them, they did not wish to be accused of theft. sir colin granted the request, and the horses were taken to the brow of the hill and set free, when they at once galloped off towards the cossacks. the races proceeded after this little episode just as usual, and subsequently the company resolved itself into small packs of dog-hunters. the weather became mild, the nights clear. our defensive line over balaklava was greatly strengthened, and its outworks and batteries were altered and amended considerably. the health of the troops was better, mortality and sickness decreased, and the spirits of the men were good. the wreck of balaklava was shovelled away, or was in the course of removal, and was shot into the sea to form piers, or beaten down to make roads, and stores and barracks of wood were rising up in its place. the oldest inhabitant would not have known the place on his return. if war is a great destroyer, it is also a great creator. the czar was indebted to it for a railway in the crimea, and for new roads between balaklava, kamiesch, and sebastopol. the hill-tops were adorned with clean wooden huts, the flats were drained, the watercourses dammed up and deepened, and all this was done in a few days, by the newly-awakened energies of labour. the noise of hammer and anvil, and the roll of the railway train, were heard in these remote regions a century before their time. can anything be more suggestive of county magistracy and poor-laws, and order and peace, than stone-breaking? it went on daily, and parties of red-coated soldiery were to be seen contentedly hammering away at the limestone rock, satisfied with a few pence extra pay. men were given freely wherever there was work to be done. the policeman walked abroad in the streets of balaklava. colonel harding exhibited ability in the improvement of the town, and he had means at his disposal which his predecessors could not obtain. lord raglan was out before the camps every day, and generals estcourt and airey were equally active. they visited balaklava, inspected the lines, rode along the works, and by their presence and directions infused an amount of energy which went far to make up for lost time, if not for lost lives. the heaps accumulated by the turks who perished in the foetid lanes of balaklava, and the masses of abomination unutterable which they left behind them, were removed and mixed with stones, lime, manure, and earth, to form piers, which were not so offensive as might have been expected. the dead horses were collected and buried. a little naval arsenal grew up at the north side of the harbour, with shears, landing-wharf, and storehouses; and a branch line was to be made from this spot to the trunk to the camp. the harbour, crowded as it was, assumed a certain appearance of order. cesspools were cleared out, and the english hercules at last began to stir about the heels of the oxen of augæus. the whole of the turks were removed to the hill-side. each day there was a diminution in the average amount of sickness, and a still greater decrease in the rates of mortality. writing at the time, i said a good sanitary officer, with an effective staff, might do much to avert the sickness to be expected among the myriads of soldiers when the heats of spring began.[ ] fresh provisions were becoming abundant, and supplies of vegetables were to be had for the sick and scurvy-stricken. the siege works were in a state of completion, and were admirably made. those on which our troops were engaged proceeded uninterruptedly. a great quantity of mules and ponies, with a staff of drivers from all parts of the world, was collected together, and lightened the toils of the troops and of the commissariat department. the public and private stores of warm clothing exceeded the demand. the mortality among the horses ceased, and, though the oxen and sheep sent over to the camps would not have found much favour in smithfield, they were very grateful to those who had to feed so long on salt junk alone. the sick were nearly all hutted, and even some of the men in those camps which were nearest to balaklava had been provided with similar comforts and accommodation. an electric telegraph was established between head-quarters and kadikoi, and the line was ordered to be carried on to balaklava. the french preferred the old-fashioned semaphore, and had a communication between the camps and naval stations. the news of the death of the emperor nicholas produced an immense sensation, and gave rise to the liveliest discussions as to its effect upon the contest. we were all wrong in our surmises the day the intelligence arrived. the enemy fired very briskly, as if to show they were not disheartened. the story of the guns of position, at this time available, was instructive. it will be remembered that the russians inflicted great loss upon us by their guns of position at the alma, and that we had none to reply to them. indeed, had they been landed at kalamita bay, it is doubtful if we could have got horses to draw them. however, if we had had the horses, we could not have had the guns. the fact was, that sixty fine guns of position, with all their equipments complete, were shipped on board the _taurus_ at woolwich, and sent out to the east. when the vessel arrived at constantinople, the admiral in charge, with destructive energy, insisted on trans-shipping all the guns into the _gertrude_. the captain in charge remonstrated, but in vain--words grew high, but led to no result. the guns, beautifully packed and laid, with everything in its proper place, were hauled up out of the hold, and huddled, in the most approved higgledy-piggledy _à la balaklava ancienne_, into the _gertrude_, where they were deposited on the top of a quantity of medical and other stores. the equipments shared the same fate, and the hold of the vessel presented to the eye of the artilleryman the realization of the saying anent the arrangement of a midshipman's chest, "everything uppermost and nothing at hand." the officer in charge got to varna, and in vain sought permission to go to some retired nook, discharge the cargo, and restow the guns. the expedition sailed, and when the _gertrude_ arrived at old fort, had hercules been set to clear the guns, as his fourteenth labour, he could not have done it. and so the medicines, that would certainly have done good, and the guns, that might have done harm, were left to neutralize each other! [sidenote: progress of the siege works.] the weather was in the early part of march so mild and fine, that it was scarcely generous to notice the few black sea fogs which swept over us now and then like shadows and so departed. our siege works were a kind of penelope's web. they were always approaching completion, and never (or at least very slowly) attaining it. the matter was in this wise:--our engineers now and then saw a certain point to be gained by the erection of a work or battery at a particular place. the plans were made and the working parties were sent down, and after a few casualties the particular work was executed; but, as it generally happened that the enemy were quite alive to our proceedings, without waiting for their copies of _the times_, we found that the russians had by the time the work was finished, thrown up another work to enfilade or to meet our guns. then it became necessary to do something to destroy the position and fresh plans were drawn up, and more trenches were dug and parapets erected. the same thing took place as before, and the process might have been almost indefinite but for the space of soil. the front of sebastopol, between english, french, and russians, looked like a huge graveyard, covered with freshly-made mounds of dark earth in all directions. every week one heard some such gossip as this--"the russians have thrown up another battery over inkerman." "yes, the french are busy making another new battery in front of the redoubt." "our fire will most positively open about the end of next week." we were overdoing our "positively last nights." on the th a small work, armed with three heavy guns, which had been constructed very quietly, to open on the two steamers near inkerman, under the orders of captain strange, began its practice early in the morning, at about yards, and drove them both away after about sixty rounds, but did not sink, or, as far as we knew, seriously disable them. every material for carrying on a siege--guns, carriages, platforms, powder, shot, shell, gabions, fascines, scaling-ladders--we had in abundance. the artillery force was highly efficient, notwithstanding the large proportion of young gunners. our engineers, if not quite so numerous as they ought to have been, were active and energetic; and our army must have consisted of nearly , bayonets, owing to the great number of men discharged from the hospitals, and returned fit for duty, and to the draughts which had been received. with the exception of the guards, who were encamped near balaklava, reduced to the strength of a company, nearly every brigade in the army could muster many more men than they could a month before. of the guardsmen sent to scutari not more than sixty or seventy were in such a state of convalescence as to permit them to join their regiments. the men in balaklava fared better, and the weather effected a marked improvement in the health of the men in the field hospitals. as for jack, he was as happy as he would allow himself to be, and as healthy, barring a little touch of scurvy now and then, as he could wish; but it must be remembered that he had no advanced trenches, no harassing incessant labour to enfeeble him, and that he had been most successful in his adaptation of stray horseflesh to camp purposes, in addition to which he had a peculiar commissariat, and the supplies of the fleet to rely upon. it is a little out of place, perhaps, to tell a story here about the extraordinary notions jack had imbibed concerning the ownership of chattels and the distinction between _meum_ and _tuum_, but i may not have a better chance. a mild young officer went up one day to the sailors' camp, which he heard was a very good place to purchase a horse, and on his arrival picked out a likely man, who was gravely chewing the cud of meditation and tobacco beside the suspension bridge, formed of staves of casks, which leads across a ravine to their quarters. "can you tell me where i can get a good horse to buy, my man!" "well, sir, you see as how our horse parties ain't come in yet, and we don't know what we may have this evening. if your honour could wait." "then you haven't got anything to sell now?" "ah! how i does wish your honour had a comed up yesterday. we had five regular good 'uns--harabs some on 'em was, but they was all bought up by a specklator from ballyklava." "so they're all gone?" "all, that lot your honour. but," with his face brightening up suddenly, "if you should happen to want a sporting out-and-out dromeydairy, i've got one as i can let you have cheap." as he spoke, jack pointed in great triumph to the melancholy-looking quadruped, which he had "moored stem and stern," as he expressed it, and was much disappointed when he found there was no chance of a sale. from hunger, unwholesome food, and comparative nakedness, the camp was a sea of abundance, filled with sheep and sheepskins, wooden huts, furs, comforters, mufflers, flannel shirts, tracts, soups, preserved meats, potted game, and spirits. nay, it was even true that a store of dalby's carminative, of respirators, and of jujubes, had been sent out to the troops. the two former articles were issued under the sanction of dr. hall, who gave instructions that the doctors should report on the effects. where the jujubes came from i know not; but had things gone on at this rate, we might soon have heard complaints that our grenadiers had been left for several days without their godfrey's cordial and soothing syrup, and that the dragoons had been shamefully ill supplied with daffy's elixir. [sidenote: renewed vigour of the russians.] "hit high--hit low--there is no pleasing him;" but really, the fact is, that the army was overdone with berlin wool and flannel, and was ill-provided with leather. the men wanted good boots and waterproofs, for there was a rainy season. medicine was not deficient, and there was an unfortunately large demand for the remedies against the ravages of low fever. mutton and beef were so abundant, that the men got fresh meat about three times a-week. some of the mutton, &c., brought to the crimea ready killed, was excellent. potatoes, cabbages, and carrots, were served out pretty frequently as the cargoes arrived, and the patients in hospital were seldom or never left short of vegetables. admiral boxer was most anxious to clear the harbour, and exerted himself to reduce the number of "adventurers" ships, and applied himself with success to the improvement of the wharfage and of the roads to the north side of the harbour. the dreamers had awakened, and after a yawn, a stretch, a gape of surprise to find that what they had been sleeping over was not a horrid nightmare, set to work with a will to clear away the traces of their sloth. but while all this improvement was taking place, the enemy were gathering strength. the russians, on the night of the th, developed their works on the hill in front of the malakoff, called the mamelon vert, under cover of their rapidly-increasing works at mount sapoune, called by the french "les ouvrages blancs." on the th, omar pasha arrived from eupatoria, and a council of war was held, at which it was decided that , turks should be at once landed from the latter place to co-operate in the attack on the city. the french stated they were ready to begin their fire on the th, but that lord raglan informed general canrobert he was not prepared. our right attack was connected by a trench with the inkerman attack. on the th general simpson, chief of the staff, arrived; and lord raglan rode into balaklava, and saw sir john m'neill and colonel tulloch, the commissioners sent out by lord panmure to inquire into the condition of the army. on the th there was an affair with the russians which was not so fortunate for our allies as might be desired. the russians advanced some riflemen in front of the french on the right of our second division, which caused considerable annoyance. a demi-brigade went down and drove the russians out. all the batteries opened at once with a tremendous crash, and for half an hour there was a furious cannonade directed against the darkness. in the midst of this fire a strong body of russians advanced on the french, and obliged them to retire. assistance was sent down, the french drove the russians back; but lost sixty-five men, killed and wounded. chapter ii. spring weather--abundance of provisions--fourth division races--a melancholy accident--struggles for the rifle-pits--reinforcements enter sebastopol--departure of sir john burgoyne--a curious fight--a hard struggle--more contests for the rifle-pits--killed and wounded. about the middle of march we were blessed with all the genial influences of a glorious spring. vegetation struggled for existence beneath the tramp of armed men and the hoof of the war horse, and faint patches of green herbage dotted the brown expanse in which the allied camps had rested so long. the few fruit-trees which had been left standing near balaklava were in blossom. the stumps on the hill sides were throwing out green shoots as outlets for the welling sap; the sun shone brightly and warmly from blue skies streaked with clouds, which were borne rapidly along by the breeze that never ceased to blow from the high lands. of course, the beneficial effects of this permanent fine weather on the health and spirits of the army were very great, and became more striking day after day. the voice of song was heard once more in the tents, and the men commenced turning up their pipes, and chanting their old familiar choruses. the railway pushed its iron feelers up the hill-side to the camp. the wire ropes and rollers for the trains had been partially laid down. every day the plains and hill-sides were streaked with columns of smoke, which marked the spots where fire was destroying heaps of filth and corrupt animal and vegetable matter as sacrifices on the altar of health. the sanatorium was working in the most satisfactory manner, and had produced the best results. the waters of little streamlets were caught up in reservoirs to provide against drought. upwards of huts had been sent to camp and erected. the army, animated by the constant inspection of lord raglan, and by the supervision of the heads of the great military departments, was nearly restored, in all but numbers, to what it was six months before. bakeries, under the control of government, were established and the troops were fed on wholesome bread. the silence and gloom of despondency had passed away with the snows and the deadly lethargy of our terrible winter. the blessed sounds of labour--twice blessed, but that they spoke of war and bloodshed--rang throughout the camp, from the crowded shore to the busy line of batteries. it must not be forgotten, however, that the enemy derived equal advantage from the improvement in the weather. valley and plain were now as firm as the finest road, and the whole country was open to the march of artillery, cavalry, infantry, and commissariat wagons. each day the russian camps on the north of sebastopol increased and spread out. each night new watchfires attracted the eye. we heard that a formidable army had assembled around eupatoria, and it was certain that the country between that town and sebastopol was constantly traversed by horse and foot, who were sometimes seen from the sea in very great numbers. the actual works of the siege made no progress to justify one in prophesying. actual increase of lines and batteries, and armament there was no doubt, but it existed on both sides, and there had been no comparative advantage gained by the allies. the impression which had long existed in the minds of many that sebastopol could not be taken by assault, considering the position of the north forts, the fleet, and the army outside, gained ground. it was generally thought that the army outside ought to have been attacked and dispersed, or that the investment of the place should be completed, before we could hope to reduce the city and the citadel. [sidenote: a substitute for the shamrock.] but coupled with this impression was the far stronger conviction that, had our army marched upon the place on the th of september, it would have fallen almost without resistance. a russian officer, who was taken prisoner and who knew the state of the city well, declared that he could not account for our "infatuation" in allowing the russians to throw up works and regain heart, when we could have walked into the place, unless under the supposition that the hand of the almighty was in it, and that he had blinded the vision and perverted the judgment of our generals. "and now," said he, "he has saved sebastopol, and we, with his help, will maintain it inviolate." however, let bygones be bygones on this and other points as well--they will be matters for history and posterity. several sea-service mortars, with a range of , yards, were sent up to the front, and the new batteries, now about to open, had the heaviest armament ever used in war. on the th of march the fourth division had races. the meeting was well attended, and had this advantage over the races at karanyi, that the course was almost under long range fire of the forts, and that the thunder of the siege-guns rose now and then above the shouts of the crowd in the heat of the sport. not a drunken man was visible on the course. every face beamed with good humour and joy and high spirits. as it was st. patrick's day, many an officer had a bit of some sorry green substitute for a shamrock in his cap. some thoughtful people at home had actually sent out to their friends real shamrocks by post, which arrived just in the nick of time, and an officer of my acquaintance was agreeably surprised by his servant presenting himself at his bedside with a semblance of that curious plant, which he had cut out of some esculent vegetable with a pair of scissors, and a request that he would wear it, "and nobody would ever know the differ." a melancholy accident occurred on the same night. mr. leblanc, surgeon of the th regiment, was coming home after dark, and got outside the french lines. he was challenged; and either did not hear or understand what the man said. the frenchman challenged again, and, receiving no reply, shot the officer dead. heavy firing was going on at the time, and a serious affair on our right, another struggle for the pits, which the enemy had thrown up on the right opposite the french, and which our allies carried gallantly, but did not succeed in retaining. these rifle-pits, which cost both armies such a quantity of ammunition, and led to so considerable a sacrifice on the part of our allies, were placed in front and to the right and left of the tower of malakoff, about yards from our works. they were simple excavations faced with sandbags, loopholed, and banked round with earth. each of these pits contained about ten riflemen. practice made these soldiers crack shots and very expert, so that if a man showed for a moment above the works in front of these pits he had instantly a small swarm of leaden hornets buzzing round his ears. they were so well covered and so admirably protected by the nature of the ground that our riflemen could do nothing with them, and the french sharpshooters were equally unsuccessful. it was determined to try a round shot or two at them from one of the english batteries. the first shot struck down a portion of the bank of one of the pits, the second went slap into the sandbags, right through the parapet, and out at the other side, and the riflemen, ignorant of sir john burgoyne's advice to men similarly situated to adhere the more obstinately to their work the more they are fired at by big guns, "bolted," and ran across the space to their works. the french sharpshooters, who were in readiness to take advantage of this moment, at once fired on the fugitives, but did not hit one of them. as it was made a point of honour by general bosquet that our allies should take these pits, about , men were marched up to the base of the hills in front of our position, close to the second and light divisions, before dusk on the night of the th, and shortly afterwards sent down to the advanced trenches on our right. at half-past six o'clock they were ordered to occupy the pits. about half-past seven o'clock the fourth division was turned out by sir john campbell, and took up its position on the hill nearly in front of its tents, sir george brown at the same time marched the light division a few hundred yards forward to the left and front of their encampment. these divisions remained under arms for nearly four hours, and were marched back when the french finally desisted from their assault on the pits. the second and third divisions were also in readiness. the zouaves advanced with their usual dash and intrepidity, but they found that the enemy were already in possession. a fierce conflict commenced, but the french could not drive the russians out. some misapprehension led the men in the trenches to fire before their comrades reached the pits, and the enemy dispatched a large force to the assistance of the troops already engaged with the french, so that the latter were at last forced back. the contest was carried on incessantly for four hours and a half, and roused up the whole camp. from the almost ceaseless roll and flashing lines of light in front one would have imagined that a general action between considerable armies was going on, and the character of the fight had something unusual about it owing to the absence of any fire of artillery. had our allies required our assistance they would have received it, but they were determined on taking and holding these pits, which, in fact, were in front of their works, without any aid. the zouaves bore the brunt of the fight. through the night air, in the lulls of the musketry, the voices of the officers could be distinctly heard cheering on the men, and encouraging them--"_en avant, mes enfans!_" "_en avant, zouaves!_" the tramp of feet and the rush of men followed; then a roll of musketry was heard, diminishing to rapid file-firing--then a russian cheer--then more musketry--dropping shots--and the voices of the officers once more. the french retired, with the loss of about men killed and wounded, and a few prisoners. [sidenote: services of sir john burgoyne.] on the th a force, computed to number about , men, entered sebastopol from the north side. large trains of carts and waggons were seen moving round towards the belbek, and a considerable force bivouacked by the waterside below the citadel. about the same time a portion of the army of inkerman, numbering, according to the best calculations, , , marched down towards mackenzie's farm, and was reported to have crossed the tchernaya and to have gone towards baidar. about four o'clock, general canrobert, attended by a small staff and escort, passed down the woronzo road by our right attack, and carefully examined the position of the "pits," and the works of the mamelon and of the square redoubt to its right. at nightfall a strong force of french, with six field-guns of " ," were moved down on the left of their extreme right, and another attempt was made to take the pits from the russians, but it was not successful. both parties retired from the contest, after an hour's combat. our batteries pitched shot and shell right into the mamelon, which the russians were fortifying rapidly, and they also threw some excellently-aimed missiles into the new pits which the russians had erected on the ground where the french were so severely handled some nights before. this redoubt had been armed. it was square, and mounted sixteen guns on the three faces visible to us. the fire at inkerman, of the forts across the tchernaya, and of the works of the malakoff covered this redoubt, and converged on the approaches in front. nearly all the firing during the night of the th was from the french mortars. the enemy scarcely replied. important changes now took place among the generals. on the st sir john burgoyne left the camp and proceeded to kamiesch, where he took passage by the mail steamer to england. all kinds of opinions and acts had been attributed to sir john while he was superintending the earlier operations of the siege, but no one ever denied the entire devotion and zeal which the veteran general displayed in the prosecution of the works so far as he could control them. if his manner exhibited that stoical apathy and indifference which distinguish the few remaining disciples of "the great duke," his activity and personal energy were far beyond his years. he was succeeded by major-general jones, who possessed activity and energy, and it was hoped that these two appointments would contribute to the improvement of the social and internal economy of the army, and to the accomplishment of the objects of the expedition. the name of the adjutant-general estcourt was no longer appended to the general orders. it was the chief of the staff, general simpson, who waited on lord raglan each day to ascertain his wishes, and to receive orders, and he communicated those orders to the quartermaster and adjutant-general, and saw that they were duly executed. the engineer officers alleged there was great difficulty in finding men to execute the necessary works, notwithstanding the improved condition of our army and the diminution of work and labour which had taken place since the co-operation of the french on our right. we frequently had not more than men for duty in the trenches of the left attack, although it was considered that they ought to be defended by at least , men, and that , men would be by no means too many for the duty. i saw one parallel in which the officer on duty was told to cover the whole line of work. he had about men with him, and when he had extended his line they were each nearly thirty paces apart. this was in a work exposed to attack at any moment. notwithstanding the ground taken by the french, we were obliged to let the men stay for twenty-four hours at a time in the trenches. on an average the men had not more than three nights out of seven in bed. the french had five nights out of seven in bed. with reference to the observations which were made at home on the distribution of labour between the two armies, it must be borne in mind that when the french and english first broke ground before balaklava we were as strong as our allies, and that it was some time after the siege began ere the relative proportions of the two armies were considerably altered to the advantage of the french by the arrival of their reinforcements. on the nd a furious fight raged along our front. about nine o'clock , russians disposed themselves in the hollows of the ground, and waited patiently till nightfall. between eleven and twelve o'clock they rushed on the french works in front of the mamelon, and made a dash at the trenches connecting our right with the french left. their columns came upon the men in our advanced trenches on the right attack, with the bayonet, before we were quite prepared to receive them. when they were first discerned, they were close, and, on being challenged, replied with their universal shibboleth, "bono franciz." taken at a great disadvantage, and pressed by superior numbers, the th and th guarding the trenches made a vigorous resistance, and drove the russians out at the point of the bayonet, but not until they had inflicted on us serious loss, not the least being that of captain vicars of the th. [sidenote: a hand-to-hand struggle.] the th fusileers had to run the gauntlet of a large body of the enemy, whom they drove back _à la fourchette_. the th regiment were attacked by great numbers, and their colonel, kelly, was taken prisoner, and carried off by the enemy. in the midst of the fight, on our right, where the trench guards were at first repulsed, major gordon, of the royal engineers, displayed that cool courage and presence of mind which never forsook him. with a little switch in his hand, standing up on the top of the parapet, he encouraged the men to defend the trenches, and hurl down stones upon the russians. he was struck by a ball which passed through the lower part of his arm, and received a bullet through the shoulder. after an hour's fight the enemy were driven back; but officers and rank and file were killed, officers and rank and file wounded, and officers taken prisoners. captain chapman of the th regiment--lieutenant marsh, rd--major browne, st--lieutenant jordan, th (killed)--captain cavendish browne, th (killed), and captain vicars, th (killed), particularly distinguished themselves in the affair. the french lost officers and men killed, officers and men wounded, and officers and men missing. prince gortschakoff admitted a loss of officers and men killed, and officers and men wounded. the hill-sides below the round tower and the mamelon were covered with their dead, mingled with the bodies of the french. the dead were lying about among the gabions which had been knocked down in front of the french sap in great numbers. at the first charge at the mortar battery, the russian leader, who wore an albanian costume, and whose gallantry was most conspicuous, fell dead. it was not known how many albanian chiefs there were with the russians; but certainly the two who were killed led them on with intrepidity and ferocious courage. one of them, who struggled into the battery in spite of a severe wound, while his life-blood was ebbing fast, rushed at a powder-barrel and fired his pistol into it before he fell. fortunately the powder did not explode, as the fire did not go through the wood. another, with a cimeter in one hand and a formidable curved blade, which he used as a dagger, in the other, charged right into our ranks twice, and fell dead the second time, perforated with balls and bayonets. they were magnificently dressed, and were supposed to be men of rank. when the mortar battery was carried, the enemy held it for about fifteen minutes. at the time the heavy fire between the french and russians was going on, a portion of the th regiment were employed on fatigue duty on the right of the new advanced works on our right attack. they were in the act of returning to their posts in the gordon battery just at the moment the heavy firing on the right had ceased, when a scattered irregular fusillade commenced in the dark on the left of their position close to the mortar battery. captain vaughton, who commanded the party of the th, ordered his men to advance along the covered way to the works. they moved at the double time, and found the russians in complete possession of the mortar battery. the th at once opened a heavy fire of musketry, when an alarm was given that they were firing upon the french; but the enemy's fire being poured in with deadly effect, the small party of the th were thrown into great confusion. with a loud "hurrah," however, the gallant band sprang with the bayonet upon the enemy, who precipitately retired over the parapet. in order to keep up the fire, the men groped about among the dead russians, and exhausted the cartridges in the enemy's pouches. as an act of justice, the names of the officers and men of the party of the th regiment whose conduct was distinguished in this affair should be recorded. they are--clarke, brittle, and essex (sergeants), caruthers, severely wounded (corporal), fare, walsh, nicholson (wounded), and nash. captain vaughton received a severe contusion in the affair. the courage displayed by captain cavendish browne, of the th, in another part of the works, was conspicuous. he was severely wounded at the commencement of the attack, but he refused to go to the rear, though nearly fainting from loss of blood. he led on his men, encouraging them by voice and gesture, to the front. when his body was found, it lay far in advance of our line, with three balls in the chest. early on saturday morning a flag of truce was sent in by the allies with a proposition to the russians for an armistice to bury the dead, lying in numbers--five or six russians to every frenchman and englishman--in front of the round tower and mamelon, and after some delay, an answer in the affirmative was returned, and it was arranged that two hours should be granted for collecting and carrying away the dead on both sides. the news spread through the camps, and the races which the chasseurs d'afrique had got up in excellent style were much shorn of their attractions by the opportunity afforded of meeting our enemies upon neutral ground. the day was beautifully bright and warm. white flags waved gently in the faint spring breeze above the embrasures of our batteries, and from the round tower and mamelon. not a soul had been visible in front of the lines an instant before the emblems of peace were run up to the flagstaffs, and a sullen gun from the mamelon and a burst of smoke from gordon's batteries had but a short time previously heralded the armistice. the instant the flags were hoisted, friend and foe swarmed out of the embrasures. the riflemen of the allies and of the enemy rose from their lairs in the rifle pits, and sauntered towards each other to behold their grim handiwork. the whole of the space between the russian lines and our own was filled with groups of unarmed soldiery. passing down by the middle picket ravine, which was then occupied by the french, and which ran down in front of the light division camp, i came out upon the advanced french trench, within a few hundred yards of the mamelon. the sight was strange beyond description. french, english, and russian officers were walking about saluting each other courteously as they passed, and occasionally entered into conversation, and a constant interchange of little civilities, such as offering and receiving cigar-lights, was going on. some of the russian officers were evidently men of high rank and breeding, their polished manners contrasted remarkably with their plain, and rather coarse clothing. they wore the invariable long grey coat over their uniforms. many of the russians looked like english gentlemen in face and bearing. one tall, fine-looking old man, with a long grey beard and strangely shaped cap, was pointed out to us as hetman of the cossacks in the crimea. the french officers were all _en grande tenue_, and offered a striking contrast to many of our own officers, who were still dressed _à la_ balaklava, and wore uncouth head-dresses, cat-skin coats, and nondescript paletots. the russians seemed to fraternize with the french more than with us. the men certainly got on better with our allies than with the privates of our regiments who were down towards the front. [sidenote: a breathing space.] while this civility was going on, we were walking over blood-stained ground, covered with evidences of recent fight, among the dead. broken muskets, bayonets, cartouch-boxes, caps, fragments of clothing, straps and belts, pieces of shell, little pools of clotted blood, shot--round and grape--shattered gabions and sand-bags, were visible on every side. through the midst of the crowd stalked solemn processions of soldiers bearing their departed comrades to their long home. i counted seventy-seven litters borne past me in fifteen minutes--each filled with a dead enemy. at one time a russian with a litter stopped by a dead body, and put it into the litter. he looked round for a comrade to help him. a zouave at once advanced with much grace and lifted it, to the infinite amusement of the bystanders; but the joke was not long-lived, as a russian came up brusquely and helped to carry off his dead comrade. some few french, dead, were lying far in advance among the gabions belonging to the advanced trenches, which the russians had broken down, evidently slain in pursuit. the russian soldiers were white-faced, many of them had powerful frames, square shoulders, and broad chests. all their dead near our lines were stripped of boots and stockings. the cleanliness of their feet, and of their coarse linen shirts, was remarkable. in the midst of this stern evidence of war, a certain amount of lively conversation began to spring up, in which the russian officers indulged in badinage. some of them asked our officers "when we were coming in to take the place?" others "when we thought of going away?" some congratulated us upon the excellent opportunity we had of getting a good look at sebastopol, as the chance of a nearer view was not in their opinion very probable. one officer asked a private confidentially in english how many men we sent into the trenches? "begorra, only , a night, and a covering party of , ," was the ready reply. the officer laughed and turned away. in the town we could see large bodies of soldiery assembled at the corners in the streets, and in the public places. probably they were ordered out to make a show of their strength. owing to some misunderstanding or other, a little fusillade began among the riflemen on the left during the armistice, but it soon terminated. the armistice was over about three o'clock. scarcely had the white flag disappeared behind the parapet of the mamelon before a round shot from the sailors' battery went slap through one of the embrasures of the russian work, and dashed up a great pillar of earth inside. the russians at once replied, and the noise of cannon soon re-echoed through the ravines. on the night of the th, captain hill, th regiment, in proceeding to post his pickets, made a mistake in the dark, and got too near the russian pickets. he was not very well acquainted with the country, and the uncertain light deceived him. the russians challenged, "qui va là?" "français!" was the reply. the two pickets instantly fired, and captain hill dropped. there were only two or three men with him, and they retired, taking with them the captain's great-coat. they went a few yards to the rear to get assistance, and returned at once to the place where captain hill fell, but his body had been removed, and the russian pickets had withdrawn. on monday the nd of april, m. st. laurent, commandant of french engineers in the right attack, was mortally wounded in the battery over inkerman. one of the most important works of the right attack bore his name, and he did much to place that portion of our works in a most efficient state. the russians now frequently amused themselves by shelling the camp. on the th, when there was a large crowd of french and english, including some of the staff, in front of the picket-house, near the mortar battery, suddenly a shell fell right into the midst of the group. the greater part of the assembly threw themselves down and rolled away on the ground. at last the shell burst, and one of the fragments struck and wounded a french sentry about fifty yards off. led horses broke loose or were let go and scampered off in all directions, and as the few officers who had nerve to remain and enjoy the discomfiture of the runaways were enjoying the joke, down came another shell into the very centre of them. the boldest could not stand this, and in a few minutes not a soul was to be seen near the ground. the military secretary lost his cap, owing to the eccentric evolutions of his frightened quadruped, but he speedily recovered it, and that was the only loss caused by the two shells, excepting the poor fellow put _hors de combat_ for the time. [sidenote: the strength of the british.] "cathcart's hill," in front of the fourth division camp, was the favourite resort of sight-seers. the place derived its name from general cathcart using it as a look-out station, and as his resort of a morning. the flag of the division, a red and white burgee, floated from a staff on the left front angle of the parallelogram, and two stands were erected for telescopes in front. a look-out man was stationed to observe the movements of the enemy. to the front of the flagstaff on the left was a cave in which sir john campbell lived. he found it a welcome refuge during the storm of the th of november. it was marked by a little wooden fence resting on cannon shot, around which there was an impromptu flower-garden. the general's marquee and the tents of his staff were close at hand. it commanded a view of the extreme french left towards kamiesch, and of their approaches to the flagstaff battery and the crenellated wall. taking up the view from this point on the left, the eye rested upon the mass of ruins in front of the french lines, seamed here and there with banks of earth or by walls of gabions, dotted with embrasures. this part of sebastopol, between the sea at artillery bay and the dockyard creek, was exceedingly like portions of old london after the first burst of the wide-street commissioners upon it. there was a strip of ruin the combined work of french and russians, about two miles long and or yards broad, and it swept round the town like a zone. the houses inside were injured, but the tall white store-houses, the domes of churches, the porticoes of palaces, and the public buildings, shone pleasantly in the sunshine. tier after tier of roofs rose up the crest of the hill. in front of this portion of the town the dun steppes were scarred all over by the lines of the french approaches, from which at intervals arose the smoke-wreaths of cannon or the puffs of the rifle, answered from the darker lines of the russians in front of the city. at night this space was lighted up incessantly by the twinkling flashes of musketry. cathcart's hill commanded a view of the whole position, with the exception of a portion of the left attack. the ground in rear of the dark lines, serrated with black iron teeth which marked our batteries, seemed almost deserted. the soldiers sauntered about in groups just below the cover of the parapets, and a deep greyish blue line denoted the artillerymen and covering parties. in front were the russian entrenchments and batteries with the black muzzles of the guns peering through the embrasures. the grey-coated russians stalked about the inner parapets, busily carrying gabions and repairing the damaged works. suddenly a thick spirt of white smoke bursts from the face of the mamelon, the shot bounds into gordon's battery, knocks up a pillar of earth, and then darts forward, throwing up a cloud of dust at each ricochet. scarcely has it struck the parapet before another burst of smoke rushes out of one of the embrasures of the naval battery, and a mass of whitish earth is dashed up into the air from the mamelon. then comes a puff from one of the french batteries on the right, and a shell bursts right in the devoted work. "bravo the sailors!" "well done, french!" cry the spectators. as the words leave their lips two or three guns from the round tower, and as many from the mamelon, hurl shot and shell in reply. a duel of this kind, with the occasional _divertissement_ of a shell or round shot at working or covering parties, sometimes lasted all day. now and then our sea-service mortars spoke out with a dull roar that shook the earth. after what seems nearly a minute of expectation a cloud of smoke and dust at the rear of the round tower denoted the effect of the terrible missiles. about twelve o'clock in the day the russians left off work to go to dinner, and our men followed their example; silence reigned almost uninterruptedly for two hours or more, and then towards four o'clock the firing began again. meantime our officers walked about or lounged on the hill-side, and smoked and chatted away the interval between breakfast and the hasty dinner which preceded the turn-out for twenty-four hours' vigil in the trenches. many a hospitable cigar and invitation to lunch were given, the latter with the surer confidence, and with a greater chance of a ready acceptance, after the crimean army fund had been established, and one was tolerably sure of a slice of a giant game-pie, to be washed down by a temperate draught of that glorious welbeck ale which made the duke of portland's name a household word in our army. our first railway trip, on the th of april, had rather an unfortunate termination. a party of the st regiment, which had been sent up from balaklava on land transport mules, came down before dark to head-quarters, where they were inspected by lord raglan, who kept them longer than mr. beatty, the engineer, desired. at last, as it was getting dark, the men got into the waggons, which proceeded down the steep incline towards balaklava. the breaks became useless, the director managed to check the waggons, but many were severely injured. one man was killed upon the spot, and several had to undergo surgical operations.[ ] chapter iii. second bombardment--results--visit to balaklava--watching the fire--casualties--attitude of the allied fleet--effects of the cannonade--turkish infantry--contest for the rifle-pits--a golden opportunity--the fire slackens. on easter monday, april , the allied batteries simultaneously opened fire. the english works were armed with twenty -inch mortars, sixteen -inch mortars, twenty -pounders, forty-two -pounders, fifteen -inch guns, four -inch guns, and six -pounders. late on the th, hearing that there was nothing likely to take place on monday, i left the front, and returned to balaklava; but in the evening i received an intimation that fire would open at daybreak the following morning. it was then black as erebus, and raining and blowing with violence; yet there was no choice for it but to take to the saddle and try to make for the front. no one who has not tried it can fancy what work it is to find one's way through widely-spread camps in a pitch-dark night. each camp is so much like its fellow that it is impossible to discriminate between one and the other; and landmarks, familiar in the day-time, are lost in one dead level of blackness. so my two companions and myself, after stumbling into turkish and french lines, into holes and out of them, found ourselves, after three hours' ride, very far indeed from our destination in the front, and glad to stop till dawn, wet and tired, at the head-quarters' camp. at four o'clock a.m. we left for the front. the horses could scarcely get through the sticky black mud into which the hard dry soil had been turned by one night's rain. although it was early dawn, it was not possible to see a man twenty yards off. a profound silence reigned. suddenly three guns were heard on the left towards the french lines, and then the whole line of batteries opened. the garden and redan batteries came into play soon after we opened fire, but some time elapsed before the round tower or the mamelon answered. the enemy were taken completely by surprise, and for half an hour their guns were weakly handled. [sidenote: the new bombardment.] the inkerman and careening bay batteries were almost silent for three-quarters of an hour before they replied to the french batteries on our right. a driving rain and a black sea fog whirled over the whole camp, which resumed the miserable aspect so well known to us during the winter. tents were blown down, and the ground, as far as it was visible, looked like a black lake, studded with innumerable pools of dun-coloured water. it was not easy, so murky was the sky and so strong the wind, to see the flashes or hear the report of the russian guns or of the french cannon on either flank, though the spot from which i watched was within a couple of hundred yards of the enemy's range; but we could tell that our batteries in front were thundering away continuously in irregular bursts, firing some twenty-five or thirty shots per minute. early in the morning they were firing from seventy to eighty shots per minute, but they reduced the rate of fire. the sound was not so great as that of the th of october. just as the cannonade opened, the sailors came over the hills from the batteries, where they had been relieved, and a few men of the third division turned out of the huts to the front, evidently very much astonished at the sudden opening of the fire. on the extreme left the french batteries were firing with energy on the loopholed wall, and on the flagstaff and garden batteries, which were replying very feebly. our left attack (greenhill or chapman's batteries), directed its fire principally against the redan, which only answered by five or six guns. our right attack (gordon's) aided by the advanced battery and by the french redoubts, had silenced the mamelon and fired three or four shots for every one from the round tower. the russian batteries to the right of the mamelon were voiceless. so much could be seen, when rain and mist set in once more, and shut out all, save one faint blear of yellowish haze to the west. the storm was so heavy that scarcely a soul stirred out all day. it was dark as night. lord raglan stationed himself at his favourite place. on cathcart's hill only sir john campbell and an aide-de-camp were visible in front of the general's tent. colonel dacres was the only officer in front of cathcart's hill when i went up, with the exception of sir john campbell. the rain descended in torrents, there was nothing to be seen, heard, or learnt, every one withdrew to shelter after a long and hopeless struggle with the weather. the firing slackened considerably after twelve o'clock. about five o'clock in the evening the sun descended into a rift in the dark grey pall which covered the sky, and cast a slice of pale yellow light, barred here and there by columns of rain and masses of curling vapour, across the line of batteries. the eye of painter never rested on a more extraordinary effect, as the sickly sun, flattened between bars of cloud, seemed to force its way through the leaden sky to cast one look on the plateau, lighted up by incessant flashes of light; and long trails of white smoke, tinged with fire, whirled away by the wind. the outlines of the town, faintly rendered through the mists of smoke and rain, seemed quivering inside the circling lines of fire around the familiar outlines--the green cupola and roofs, long streets and ruined suburbs, the dockyard buildings, trenches and batteries. the only image calculated to convey an idea of the actual effect is a vision of the potteries seen at night, all fervid with fire, out of the windows of an express train. the practice from the left of the left attack and from the right of the right attack, which was more under observation than other parts of our works, was admirable. our shell practice was not so good as it might have been, on account of bad fuzes. a large proportion burst in the air. some of our fuzes were made in . i have heard of some belonging to the last century, but some recent manufacture turned out the worst. a strange and almost unexampled accident occurred in one of our batteries. a -inch mortar burst into two pieces, splitting up longitudinally. one of the masses was thrown thirty yards to the right, and another to the left, and though the fragments flew along the traverses and parapet, not one person was killed or wounded. we were less fortunate in the case of the lancaster gun, which was struck by a shot, killing and wounding severely six men. several engineer officers declared their satisfaction at getting rid of the gun, in which they could place no confidence, on account of its wild and uncertain firing. the french silenced eight or nine guns of the bastion du mât (flagstaff), and almost shut up the inkerman batteries. on our side we had silenced half the guns in the redan and malakoff, and had in conjunction with the french left the mamelon only one out of seven guns, but the garden, the road, and the barrack batteries were comparatively uninjured, and kept up a brisk fire all day. general bizot received a fatal wound in our right attack just as he was lamenting the thinness of our parapets. he was struck by a rifle-ball under the ear, and died shortly after, much regretted by our allies and by ourselves. the russians, with great _sangfroid_, repaired the batteries, and appeared to have acquired confidence, but their fire was by no means so brisk as it was when the siege commenced. omar pasha visited lord raglan again on wednesday, the th, and there was another council of war, at which general canrobert and general bosquet were present. [sidenote: the bombardment continues.] the expectation which the outsiders entertained that "the fleet would go in" on the third day was not realized. at daybreak i was up at cathcart's hill. the view was obscured by drizzling rain, but the hulls and rigging of the steamers and line-of-battle ships were visible; and though clouds of steam were flying from the funnels, it was quite evident that the fleet had no intention of taking part in the bombardment. their presence there had, however, the effect of drawing off a number of the russian gunners, for the sea batteries on the north and south sides were all manned, and we could see the artillerymen and sailors inside the parapets standing by their guns. it was evident that the russians had more than recovered from their surprise, and laboured to recover the ground they had lost with all their might. they resorted to their old practice of firing six or seven guns in a salvo--a method also adopted by the french. large reserves of infantry were drawn up near the north forts, and the corps over inkerman were under arms. the russians could be seen carrying their wounded across to the north side. the cannonade continued all day uninterruptedly, but i could not see that any great change had been made in the profile of the enemy's works. several of the embrasures in the redan had been destroyed, and the round tower works were a good deal "knocked about;" but there was no reduction in the weight of the enemy's fire. lord raglan visited the front and spent some time examining the effects of the fire. sir john m'neill, colonel tulloch, general pennefather, and sir george brown, were frequently among the spectators on the advanced mounds commanding a view of the operations. during the night the french attacked some rifle-pits at the quarantine cemetery, but were repulsed after a very serious affair, in which they lost men; not, however, without inflicting great loss and damage on the enemy. at dawn on thursday, the th, the allied batteries and the russians recommenced. the enemy exerted themselves to repair damages during the night, replaced damaged guns, mended embrasures and parapets, and were, in fact, nearly as ready to meet our fire as they had been at any time for six months. on our side, four of the guns for the advanced parallel, which for the previous two nights we had failed to get into position, were brought down after dark, and it was expected that material results would be produced by their fire when they were in position. orders were sent to restrict the firing to rounds per gun each day. the -inch mortar battery fired parsimoniously one round per mortar every thirty minutes, as it requires a long time to cool the great mass of iron heated by the explosion of lb. of powder. the bombardment did not cease during the day, but it was not so heavy on the whole as it had been on the three previous days. at fifty minutes past four the batteries relaxed firing, renewed it at six, and the fire was very severe till nightfall. then the bombardment commenced and lasted till daybreak. the sailors' brigade suffered very severely. they lost more men than all our siege-train working and covering parties put together. up to half-past three o'clock on friday, they had had seventy-three men killed and wounded, two officers killed, one wounded, and two or three contused. at four o'clock on friday morning, april , the russians opened a destructive fire on our six-gun battery, which was in a very imperfect state, and by concentrating the fire of twenty guns upon it, dismounted some of the pieces and injured the works severely, so as to render the battery useless. one of our -pounders was burst by a shot which entered right at the muzzle as the gun was being discharged. another gun, struck by a shot in the muzzle, was split up to the trunnions, the ball then sprang up into the air, and, falling at the breech, knocked off the button. in the very heat of the fire on the th, a russian walked through one of the embrasures of the round tower, coolly descended the parapet, took a view of the profile of the work, and sauntered back again--a piece of bravado which very nearly cost him his life, as a round shot struck within a yard of him, and a shell burst near the embrasure as he re-entered. two divisions of turkish infantry encamped near the english head-quarters. they mustered about , men, and finer young fellows i never saw. they had had a long march, and their sandal shoon afforded sorry protection against the stony ground; and yet few men fell out of the ranks. one regiment had a good brass band, which almost alarmed the bystanders by striking up a quick step (waltz) as they marched past, in excellent style, but the majority of the regiments were preceded by musicians with drums, fifes, and semicircular thin brass tubes, with wide mouths, such as those which may have tumbled the walls of jericho, or are seen on the sculptured monuments of primæval kings. the colonel and his two majors rode at the head of each regiment, and followed by pipe-bearers and servants, richly dressed, on small but spirited horses, covered with rich saddle-cloths. the mules, with the tents, marched on the right--the artillery on the left. each gun was drawn by six horses. the two batteries consisted of four lb. brass howitzers, and two lb. brass field pieces; the carriages and horses were in a very serviceable state. the ammunition boxes were rather coarse and heavy. the baggage animals of the division marched in the rear, and the regiments marched in columns of companies three deep, each company on an average with a front of twenty rank and file. one of the regiments had minié rifles of english make; the others were armed with flint firelocks, but they were very clean and bright. they displayed standards, blazing with cloth of gold, and flags with the crescent and star upon them. the men carried blankets, squares of carpet for prayer, cooking utensils, and packs of various sizes and substances. as they marched over the undulating ground they presented a very picturesque and warlike spectacle, the reality of which was enhanced by the thunder of the guns at sebastopol, and the smoke-wreaths from shells bursting high in the air. at a council of war on the th, the question of assaulting the place was discussed, but lord raglan and the other english generals who were in favour of doing so were overruled by general canrobert and general niel. omar pasha, attended by his suite, rode round the rear of our batteries on the th, and lord raglan visited the turkish encampment on the hills to the west of the col de balaklava. [sidenote: the bombardment continues.] on saturday night ( th), there was a severe and protracted conflict on the left, for the french rifle-pits in front of the quarantine works. at first, the weight of the columns which swept out of the enemy's lines bore back the french in the advanced works, where the covering parties were necessarily thin, and many lost their lives by the bayonet. our allies, having received aid, charged the russians into their own lines, to which they fled with such precipitation that the french entered along with them, and could have spiked their advanced guns had the men been provided with the means. as they were retiring, the enemy made a sortie in greater strength than before. a sanguinary fight took place, in which the bayonet, the musket-stock, and the bullet were used in a pell-mell struggle, but the french asserted their supremacy, and in defiance of the stubborn resistance of the russians, evoked by the cries and example of the officers, forced them battling back across their trenches once more, and took possession of the rifle-pits, which they held all night. the loss of our allies was considerable in this brilliant affair. the energy and spirit with which the french fought were beyond all praise. the next morning our advanced batteries were armed with fourteen guns. they opened at daybreak, and directed so severe a fire against the russian batteries throughout the day, that they concentrated a number of guns upon the two batteries. we nevertheless maintained our fire. at half-past eight o'clock in the evening ( th), three mines, containing , pounds of powder, were exploded with an appalling crash, in front of the batteries of the french, seventy yards in front of the third parallel. the fourth and principal mine was not exploded, as it was found to be close to the gallery of a russian mine, and the french were unable to make such a lodgment as was anticipated; but they established themselves in the course of the night in a portion of the outer work. the _etonnoirs_ were, after several days' hard labour and nights of incessant combat, connected with the siege works. the russians, believing the explosion to be the signal for a general assault, ran to their guns, and for an hour their batteries vomited forth prodigious volumes of fire against our lines from one extremity to the other. the force and fury of their cannonade was astonishing, but notwithstanding the length and strength of the fire, it caused but little damage to the works or to their defenders. next day the magazine of our eight-gun battery in the right attack was blown up by a shell, and seven of our guns were silenced, but the eighth was worked with great energy by captain dixon, r. a., who commanded in the battery. on the th, the th hussars arrived, and five hundred sabres were added to the strength of our cavalry. our fire had much diminished by the th of april. the russian fire slackened just in proportion as they found our guns did not play upon them. the french batteries also relaxed a little. in the night we carried a rifle-pit in front of our right attack, and commenced a sap towards the redan. the russians made sorties on the french in the third parallel, and were only repulsed after hard fighting and loss. chapter iv. a reconnaissance by the turks--relics of the heavy cavalry brigade--interior of a church--a brush with the cossacks--severe struggles for the rifle-pits--gallantry of the french--grand military spectacle--general canrobert addressing the troops--talk in the trenches--rumours. a reconnaissance was made by twelve battalions of turkish troops under the command of his excellency omar pasha, assisted by french and english cavalry and artillery, on the th. orders were sent to the th hussars (brigadier-general parlby, of the light cavalry, in temporary command of the cavalry division, during general scarlett's absence), to the head-quarters of the heavy cavalry brigade, to the c troop of the royal horse artillery, to be in readiness to turn out at daybreak. the chasseurs d'afrique and a french rocket troop accompanied the _reconnaissance_, and rendered excellent service during the day. as the morning was fine and clear, the sight presented by the troops advancing towards kamara across the plain from the heights was very beautiful. so little was known about the _reconnaissance_, that many officers at head-quarters were not aware of it, till they learnt that lord raglan, attended by a few members of the staff, had started to overtake the troops. a great number of amateurs, forming clouds of very irregular cavalry, followed and preceded the expedition. the pasha, who was attended by behrem pasha (colonel cannon), and several turkish officers of rank, had the control of the movement. the turks marched in column; the sunlight flashing on the polished barrels of their firelocks and on their bayonets, relieved the sombre hue of the mass, for their dark blue uniforms, but little relieved by facings or gay shoulder-straps and cuffs, looked quite black when the men were together. the chasseurs d'afrique, in powder-blue jackets, with white cartouch belts, and bright red pantaloons, mounted on white arabs, caught the eye like a bed of flowers. nor did the rich verdure require any such borrowed beauty, for the soil produced an abundance of wild flowering shrubs and beautiful plants. dahlias, anemones, sweetbriar, whitethorn, wild parsley, mint, thyme, sage, asparagus, and a hundred other different citizens of the vegetable kingdom, dotted the plain, and as the infantry moved along, their feet crushed the sweet flowers, and the air was filled with delicate odours. rectangular patches of long, rank, rich grass, waving high above the more natural green meadow, marked the mounds where the slain of the th of october were reposing, and the snorting horses refused to eat the unwholesome shoots that sprang there. [sidenote: a skirmish.] the skeleton of an english dragoon, said to be one of the royals, lay extended on the plain, with tattered bits of red cloth hanging to the bones of his arms. the man must have fallen early in the day, when the heavy cavalry, close to canrobert's hill, came under fire of the russian artillery. there was a russian skeleton close at hand in ghastly companionship. the small bullet-skull, round as a cannon-ball, was still covered with grisly red locks. farther on, the body of another russian seemed starting out of the grave. the half-decayed skeletons of artillery and cavalry horses covered with rotting trappings, harness, and saddles, lay as they fell, in a _débris_ of bone and skin, straps, cloth, and buckles. from the graves, the uncovered bones of the tenants started through the soil, as if to appeal against the haste with which they had been buried. with the clash of drums and the shrill strains of the fife, with the champing of bits and ringing of steel, in all the pride of life, man and horse swept over the remnants of the dead. the relics of the heavy cavalry brigade, scots greys and enniskillens, th dragoon guards and th dragoon guards, passed over the scene of their grand encounter with the muscovite cavalry. the survivors might well feel proud. the th hussars were conspicuous for the soldierly and efficient look of the men, and the fine condition of their light, sinewy, and showy horses. as the force descended into the plain they extended, and marched towards kamara, spreading across the ground in front of canrobert's hill from no. turkish redoubt up to the slope which leads to the village. a party of turkish infantry followed the cavalry in skirmishing order, and on approaching the village, proceeded with great activity to cover the high wooded hill which overhung the village to the right. the turks were preceded by a man armed with a bow and arrows, who said he was a tcherkess. in addition to his bow and arrows, he carried a quaint old pistol, and his coat-breast was wadded with cartridges. the few cossacks in the village abandoned it after firing a few straggling shots at the advanced skirmishers. one had been taken so completely by surprise that he left his lance leaning against a wall. an officer of the st espied it just as the cossack was making a bolt to recover it. they both rode their best, but the briton was first, and carried off the lance in triumph, while the cossack retreated with affected pantomime, representing rage and despair. i looked into the church, the floor of which had been covered an inch in depth with copper money, when the expedition first came to balaklava. the simple faith of the poor people in the protection of their church had not been violated by us, but the cossacks appeared to have had no such scruples, for not a copeck was to be seen, and the church was bare and desolate, and stripped of every adornment. as soon as the turks on the right had gained the summit of the hill above kamara, three of the columns advanced and drew up on the slope in front of the church. a detachment was sent towards baidar, but could see no enemy, and they contented themselves with burning a building which the cossacks had left standing, the smoke from which led some of us to believe that a little skirmish was going on among the hills. meantime the force, leaving three columns halted at kamara, marched past canrobert's hill, the sides of which were covered with the wigwams of the russians--some recent, others those which were burnt when liprandi retired. they passed by the old turkish redoubts nos. and , towards a very steep and rocky conical hill covered with loose stones, near the top of which the russians had thrown up a wall about - / feet high. a group of cossacks and russian officers assembled on the top to watch our movements. the turks ascended the hill with ardour and agility, firing as they advanced, the cossacks replied by a petty fusillade. suddenly an arch of white smoke rose from the ground with a fierce, hissing noise, throwing itself like a great snake towards the crest of the hill; as it flew onward the fiery trail was lost, but a puff of smoke burst out on the hill-top, and the cossacks and russians disappeared with precipitation. in fact, the french had begun their rocket practice with great accuracy. nothing could be better for such work as this than their light rocket troops. the apparatus was simple and portable--a few mules, with panniers on each side, carried the whole of the tubes, cases, sticks, fuzes, &c., and the effect of rockets, though uncertain, is very great, especially against cavalry; the skirmishers crowned the hill. the russians rode rapidly down and crossed the tchernaya by the bridge and fords near tchorgoun. omar pasha, lord raglan, and the french generals spent some time in surveying the country, while the troops halted in rear, the artillery and cavalry first, supported by four battalions of egyptians. at two o'clock the _reconnaissance_ was over, and the troops retired to the camp, the skirmishers of the french cavalry being followed by the cossacks, and exchanging long shots with them from time to time, at a prudent distance. altogether, the _reconnaissance_ was a most welcome and delightful interlude in the dull, monotonous "performances" of the siege. every one felt as if he had got out of prison at last, and had beaten the cossacks, and i never saw more cheering, joyous faces at a cover side than were to be seen on canrobert's hill. it was a fillip to our spirits to get a gallop across the greensward once more, and to escape from the hateful feeling of constraint and confinement which bores us to death in the camp. on the same night a very gallant feat of arms was performed by the th regiment. in front of the redan, opposite our right attack, the russians had established capacious pits, from which they annoyed us considerably, particularly from the two nearest to us on the left-hand side. round shot and shell had several times forced the russians to bolt across the open ground to their batteries, but at night they repaired damages, and were back again as busy as ever in the morning. our advanced battery would have been greatly harassed by this fire when it opened, and it was resolved to take the two pits, to hold that which was found most tenable, and to destroy the other. the pits were complete little batteries for riflemen, constructed with great skill and daring, and defended with vigour and resolution, and the fire from one well established within or yards of a battery was sufficient to silence the guns and keep the gunners from going near the embrasures. [sidenote: determined bravery.] at eight o'clock the th, under lieutenant-colonel egerton, with a wing of the rd in support in the rear, moved down the traverses towards these rifle-pits. the night was dark and windy, but the russian sentries perceived the approach of our men, and a brisk fire was at once opened, to which our troops scarcely replied, for they rushed upon the enemy with the bayonet, and, after a short struggle, drove them out of the two pits and up the slope behind them. it was while setting an example of conspicuous bravery to his men that colonel egerton fell mortally wounded. once in the pits, the engineers set to work, threw up a gabionnade in front, and proceeded to connect the nearest rifle-pit with our advanced sap. the enemy opened an exceedingly heavy fire on them, and sharpshooters from the parapets and from the broken ground kept up a very severe fusillade; but the working party continued in defiance of the storm of shot which tore over them; and remained in possession of the larger of the pits. the general of the day of the right attack telegraphed to head-quarters that our troops had gained the pits, and received directions to keep them at all hazards. at two o'clock in the morning a strong column of russians advanced against the pits, and the combat was renewed. the enemy were met by the bayonet, they were thrust back again and again, and driven up to their batteries. the pit was most serviceable, not only against the embrasures of the redan, but in reducing the fire of the rifle-pits on its flank. a drummer boy of the th engaged in the _mêlée_ with a bugler of the enemy, made him prisoner and took his bugle--a little piece of juvenile gallantry for which he was well rewarded. next night the russians sought to reoccupy the pits, but were speedily repulsed; the st regiment had fifteen men killed and wounded. the pit was finally filled in with earth, and re-abandoned. on the th a council of war was held at head-quarters, and it was resolved to make the assault at p.m. on the th. the english were to attack the redan; the french the ouvrages blancs, bastion du mât, bastion centrale, and bastion de la quarantaine. in the course of the evening general canrobert, however, was informed by the french admiral, that the french army of reserve would arrive from constantinople in a week,--it was said, indeed, the emperor would come out to take the command in person, and the assault was deferred. during the night of the th the russians came out of the bastion du mât (flagstaff battery) soon after dark, and began excavating rifle-pits close to the french. our allies drove them back at the point of the bayonet. the enemy, stronger than before, returned to their labour, and, covered by their guns, succeeded in making some progress in the work, finally, after a struggle which lasted from eight o'clock till three o'clock in the morning, and prodigious expenditure of ammunition. the french loss was estimated at . the russians must have lost three times that number, judging from the heavy rolling fire of musketry incessantly directed upon them. in the morning it was discovered that the enemy were in possession of several pits, which they had succeeded in throwing up in spite of the strenuous attempts made to dislodge them. on the th general canrobert sent to inform lord raglan that in consequence of the information he had received of the probable arrival of the emperor, and of the imperial guard and reinforcements to the strength of , men, he resolved not to make the assault on the th. on the th general bosquet's army of observation, consisting of forty-five battalions of infantry, of two regiments of heavy dragoons, and of two regiments of chasseurs d'afrique, with sixty guns, were reviewed by general canrobert, who was accompanied by a large and very brilliant staff, by several english generals, and by an immense "field" of our officers on the ridge of the plateau on which the allies were encamped. the troops took ground from the point opposite the first russian battery over inkerman to the heights above the scene of the battle of balaklava on the th of october. the ground was too limited to contain such a body of men even in dense column, and a double wall of battalions. general canrobert, his hat trimmed with ostrich plumes, his breast covered with orders, mounted on a spirited charger, with a thick stick under his arm, followed by a brilliant staff, his "esquire" displaying a tricolor guidon in the air, attended by his escort and a suite of generals, passed along the lines. the bands struck up _partant pour la syrie_. the vivandières smiled their best. the golden eagles, with their gorgeous standards, were lowered. as soon as general canrobert had reviewed a couple of divisions, there was "an officers' call." the officers formed a square, general canrobert, riding into the centre, addressed them with much elocutionary emphasis respecting the speedy prospect of active operations against the place, which he indicated by the illustration, "if one wants to get into a house, and cannot get in at the door, he must get in at the window." [sidenote: an amusing colloquy.] the address was listened to, however, with profound silence. the general and staff took up ground near the centre of the position, and regiment after regiment marched past. a sullen gun from the enemy, directed towards the nearest column from the battery over the tchernaya, denoted the vigilance of the russians, but the shot fell short against the side of the plateau. the troops--a great tide of men--the coming of each gaudy wave heralded over the brow of the hill, crested with sparkling bayonets, by the crash of martial music--rolled on for nearly two hours. chasseurs à pied, infantry of the line, zouaves, voltigeurs, and arabs passed on column after column, till the forty-five battalions of gallant frenchmen had marched before the eyes of him who might well be proud of commanding them. the chasseurs indigènes, their swarthy faces contrasting with their white turbans, clad in light blue, with bright yellow facings and slashing, and clean gaiters and greaves, showed like a bed of summer flowers; the zouaves rushed by with the buoyant, elastic, springing tread which reminded one of inkerman; nor was the soldier-like, orderly, and serviceable look of the line regiments less worthy of commendation. then came the roll of the artillery, and in clouds of dust, rolling, and bumping, and jolting, the sixty guns and their carriages had gone by. the general afterwards rode along the lines of the chasseurs d'afrique, and of the two regiments of dragoons, which went past at a quick trot. it was said that there were , horsemen in the four regiments. they certainly seemed fit for any duty that horse and man could be called upon to execute. the horses, though light, were in good condition, particularly those of the chasseurs d'afrique. the inspection terminated shortly after six o'clock. each regiment, as it defiled past the general, followed the example of the colonel, and cried "_vive l'empereur!_" next day the general reviewed pelissier's corps, in rear of the trenches, and passed through the , men of which it consisted, using much the same language as the day previously. up to the th there was no material change in the position of the allied armies before sebastopol, or in the attitude of the enemy within and outside the city. every night there was the usual expenditure of ammunition. nothing, indeed, was more difficult to ascertain than the particulars of these nocturnal encounters. after a cannonade and furious firing, which would keep a stranger in a state of intense excitement all night, it was common to hear some such dialogue as this the following morning:--"i say, smith, did you hear the row last night?" "no, what was it?" "oh, blazing away like fury. you don't mean to say you didn't hear it?" "not a sound; came up from the trenches last night, and slept like a top." "hallo, jones," (to a distinguished 'cocked hat' on horseback, riding past,) "tell us what all the shindy was about last night." "shindy, was there? by jove, yes; i think i did hear some firing--the french and the russians as usual, i suppose." "no, it sounded to me as if it was in front of our right attack." "ah, yes--well--i suppose there was something." another thinks it was on the left, another somewhere else, and so the matter ends, and rests for ever in darkness unless the _invalide russe_, the _moniteur_, or the _gazette_ throw their prismatic rays upon it. i need not say that all minute descriptions of charges or of the general operations of war conducted at night are not trustworthy. each man fancies that the little party he is with bears the whole brunt of the work, and does all the duty of repulsing the enemy; and any one who takes his narrative from such sources will be sure to fall into innumerable errors. from the batteries or from the hills behind them one can see the flashes flickering through the darkness, and hear the shouts of the men--but that is all--were he a combatant he would see and hear even less than the spectator. in a day or two after the affair was over, one might hear what really had taken place by taking infinite pains and comparing all kinds of stories. it was, in fact, a process of elimination. nothing afforded finer scope to the exercise of fancy than one of these fights in the dark--it was easy to imagine all sorts of incidents, to conceive the mode of advance, of attack, of resistance, of retreat, or of capture, but the recital was very inconsistent with the facts. the generals whose tents were near the front adopted the device of placing lines of stones radiating from a common centre towards the principal points of the attack, so as to get an idea of the direction in which the fire was going on at night. even that failed to afford them any very definite information as to the course of the fight. chapter v. may-day in the crimea--new works--a tremendous conflict--movement of russians--sorties against the french--the abortive kertch expedition--recal--the russians repulsed--fire from the batteries--arrival of the sardinians--second expedition--departure--disembarkation--capture of kertch and yenikale--depredations--destruction--"looting"--return to the crimea. the may-day of in the crimea was worthy of the sweetest and brightest may queen ever feigned by the poets in merry england! a blue sky, dotted with milk-white clouds, a warm, but not too hot a sun, and a gentle breeze fanning the fluttering canvas of the wide-spread streets of tents, here pitched on swelling mounds covered with fresh grass, there sunk in valleys of black mould, trodden up by innumerable feet and hoofs, and scattered broadcast over the vast plateau of the chersonese. it was enough to make one credulous of peace, and to listen to the pleasant whispers of home, notwithstanding the rude interruption of the cannon before sebastopol. this bright sun, however, developed fever and malaria. the reeking earth, saturated with dew and rain, poured forth poisonous vapours, and the sad rows of mounds, covered with long lank grass, which, rose above the soil, impregnated the air with disease. as the atmosphere was purged of clouds and vapour, the reports of the cannon and of the rifles became more distinct. the white houses, green roofs, the domes and cupolas of sebastopol stood out with tantalizing distinctness against the sky, and the ruined suburbs and masses of rubbish inside the russian batteries seemed almost incorporated with the french intrenchments. [sidenote: desperate fighting.] a very brilliant exploit was performed by seven battalions of french infantry, in which the th regiment were particularly distinguished, during the night and morning of the st and nd of may. the enemy, alarmed by the rapid approaches of the french, had commenced a system of counter approaches in front of the bastion of the quarantine, central bastion, and bastion du mât, which were assuming enormous proportions. general pelissier demanded permission to take them. general canrobert, whose indecision increased every day, at last gave orders for the assault. three columns rushed out of the works shortly before seven o'clock p.m. the russians came out to meet them--a tremendous conflict ensued, in which the french, at last, forced the russians back into the works, followed them, stormed the outworks of the batterie centrale, and took off nine cohorns. in this affair, which lasted till two o'clock a.m., the french had nine officers put _hors de combat_, sixty-three men killed, and two hundred and ten wounded. on the nd of may, at half-past two p.m., russian troops, in three divisions, each about , strong, were seen marching into sebastopol from the camp over the tchernaya. a very large convoy of carts and pack animals also entered the town in the course of the day, and an equally numerous string of carts and horses left for the interior. the day was so clear that one could almost see the men's faces through the glass. the officers were well mounted, and the men marched solidly and well. numbers of dogs preceded and played about the line of march, and as they passed by the numerous new batteries, at which the russians were then working night and day, the labourers saluted the officers and stood gazing on the sight, just as our own artisans would stare at a body of troops in some quiet english town. about four o'clock p.m., it was observed by us that the enemy was forming in column in the rear of the bastion du mât. a few moments afterwards, about , men made a rush out of the batterie centrale, and with a loud cheer flung themselves on the french trenches. for a moment their numbers and impetuosity enabled them to drive the french out of the works as far as the parallel, but not without a desperate resistance. the smoke soon obscured the scene of the conflict from sight, but the french could be seen advancing rapidly along the traverses and covered ways to the front, their bayonets flashing through the murky air in the sun. in a few moments the russians were driven back behind their entrenchments, which instantly opened a heavy cannonade. several russian officers were taken prisoners. the enemy did not succeed in their object. next day there was a truce; french were found on the ground, and russians were delivered to their burial parties. while this affair was taking place our horseraces were going on behind cathcart's hill. the monotony of the siege operations was now broken. on the rd of may, the nd, st, and rd, part of the nd battalion rifle brigade, two companies of sappers and miners, of the st highland light infantry, one battery of artillery, of the th hussars, and the first division of the first corps of the french army under d'autemarre, sailed from kamiesch and balaklava; the whole force being under the command of sir george brown. the fleet, consisting of about forty sail, with these , men on board, arrived at the rendezvous, lat. · , long. · , on saturday morning. there an express steamer, which left kamiesch on friday night with orders from general canrobert, directed the immediate return of the french, in consequence of a communication from the emperor at paris, which rendered it incumbent on him to concentrate the forces under his command in the chersonese. admiral bruat could not venture to take upon himself the responsibility of disregarding orders so imperative and so clear, and admiral lyons was not in a position to imitate the glorious disobedience of nelson. lord raglan gave permission to sir george brown to go on without the french, if he thought proper, but that gallant officer did not consider his force large enough, and would not avail himself of such a proof of his general's confidence. this abrupt termination of an expedition which was intended to effect important services, excited feelings of annoyance and regret among those who expected to win honour, glory, and position. the expedition returned on the th, and the troops were landed, and we began to hear further rumours of dissensions in our councils, and of differences between lord raglan and general canrobert. the emperor napoleon had sent out a sketch of operations, to which general canrobert naturally attached great importance, and from which lord raglan dissented. general canrobert proposed that lord raglan should take the command of the allied armies. his lordship, after some hesitation, accepted the offer, and then proposed changes in the disposition of the two armies, to which general canrobert would not accede. finding himself thus compromised, canrobert demanded permission from the emperor to resign the command of the french army, and to take charge of a division. the emperor acceded to the request, and general canrobert was succeeded by general pelissier, in command of the french army. on the th of may, general della marmora and , sardinians arrived in the crimea, and were attached to the english army. two or three steamers arrived every four-and-twenty hours laden with those excellent and soldier-like troops. they landed all ready for the field, with horses, carts, &c. their transport cars were simple, strongly made, covered vehicles, not unlike a london bread-cart, painted blue, with the words "armata sarda" in black letters, and the name of the regiment to the service of which it belonged. the officers were well mounted, and every one admired the air and carriage of the troops, more especially the melodramatic headdress--a bandit-looking hat, with a large plume of black cock's feathers at the side--of the "bersaglieri." [illustration plan of odessa. map shewing the military roads & countries between odessa & perekop. ] [illustration plan of the british camp before sebastopol. . ] about one o'clock in the morning of the th of may, the camp was roused by an extremely heavy fire of musketry and repeated cheering along our right attack. the elevated ground and ridges in front of the third and fourth divisions were soon crowded with groups of men from the tents in the rear. it was a very dark night, for the moon had not risen, and the sky was overcast with clouds, but the flashing of small arms, which lighted up the front of the trenches, the yell of the russians (which our soldiers christened "the inkerman screech"), the cheers of our men, and the volume of fire, showed that a contest of no ordinary severity was taking place. for a mile and a half the darkness was broken by outbursts of ruddy flame and bright glittering sparks, which advanced, receded, died out altogether, broke out fiercely in patches in innumerable twinkles, flickered in long lines like the electric flash along a chain, and formed for an instant craters of fire. by the time i reached the front--about five minutes after the firing began--the fight was raging all along the right of our position. the wind was favourable for hearing, and the cheers of the men, their shouts, the voices of the officers, the russian bugles and our own, were distinctly audible. the bugles of the light division and of the second division were sounding the "turn out" on our right as we reached the high ground, and soon afterwards the alarm sounded through the french camp. [sidenote: a terrific cannonade.] the musketry, having rolled incessantly for a quarter of an hour, began to relax. here and there it stopped for a moment; again it burst forth. then came a british cheer, "our fellows have driven them back; bravo!" a russian yell, a fresh burst of musketry, more cheering, a rolling volley subsiding into spattering flashes and broken fire, a ringing hurrah from the front followed; and then the russian bugles sounding "the retreat," and our own bugles the "cease firing," and the attack was over. the enemy were beaten, and were retiring to their earthworks; and the batteries opened to cover their retreat. the redan, round tower, garden and road batteries, aided by the ships, lighted up the air from the muzzles of their guns. the batteries at careening bay and at the north side of the harbour contributed their fire. the sky was seamed by the red track of innumerable shells. the french, on our right, opened from the batteries over inkerman and from the redoubts; our own batteries sent shot and shell in the direction of the retreating enemy. the effect of this combined fire was very formidable to look at, but was probably not nearly so destructive as that of the musketry. from half-past one till three o'clock the cannonade continued, but the spectators had retired before two o'clock, and tried to sleep as well as they might in the midst of the thunders of the infernal turmoil. soon after three o'clock a.m. it began to blow and rain with great violence, and on getting up next morning i really imagined that one of our terrible winter days had interpolated itself into the crimean may. soon after general pelissier took the command, another expedition against kertch and the russians in the sea of azoff was organized. the command of the british contingent was conferred, as before, on sir george brown. on tuesday evening (may the nd) the _gladiator_, _stromboli_, _sidon_, _valorous_, _oberon_, and _ardent_, anchored off balaklava. the transports, with the british on board, hauled outside. the force consisted of , french troops, under general d'autemarre; of , turks, under redschid pasha; of , english, under sir george brown--namely, marines, lieutenant-colonel holloway; artillery, captains barker, graydon, &c.; the nd highlanders, colonel cameron, strong; the th regiment of highlanders, strong, colonel douglas; the rd highlanders, strong, lieutenant-colonel ainslie; the st highland light infantry, strong, lieutenant-colonel denny; sappers and miners, and of the th hussars, under colonel de salis. the staff numbered forty persons, and the transport corps officers and men. a flying squadron was organized under the command of captain lyons, son of the admiral, who was on board the _miranda_, and consisted of the following vessels:--_vesuvius_, captain osborn; _stromboli_, captain cole; _medina_, commander beresford; _ardent_, lieutenant-commander horton; _arrow_, lieutenant jolliffe; _beagle_, lieutenant hewett; _lynx_, lieutenant aynsley; _snake_, lieutenant m'killop; _swallow_, commander crauford; _viper_, lieutenant armytage; _wrangler_, lieutenant risk; and _curlew_, commander lambert. there are not many people who ever heard of kertch or yenikale since their schoolboy days until this war directed all eyes to the map of the crimea, but these towns represented, on a small scale, those favoured positions which nature seemed to have intended for the seat of commerce and power, and in some measure resembled constantinople, which is placed, like them, on a narrow channel between two seas, whose trade it profited by and commanded. on approaching cape takli bournou, which is the south-western corner, so to speak, of the entrance to the straits of kertch, the traveller sees on his left a wide expanse of undulating meadow land marked all along the prominent ridges with artificial tumuli, and dotted at wide intervals with tartar cottages and herds. the lighthouse at the cape is a civilized european-looking edifice of white stone, on a high land, some height above the water; and as we passed it on the th of may, we could see the men in charge of it mounted in the balcony, and surveying the proceedings of the fleet through telescopes. on the right of the straits, or, in other words, at the south-eastern extremity, the coast of taman--famed for its horses, its horsemen, and its buckwheat--offered a varied outline of steep cliffs, or of sheets of verdure descending to the water's edge, and the white houses and steeples of fanagoria could be seen in the distance. the military road to anapa wound along a narrow isthmus further south on the right, below the narrow strait of bourgas, leading to one of the estuaries which indented the land in all directions in this region of salt lakes, isthmuses, and sandbanks. from cape takil to the land on the opposite side of the straits the distance is about seven miles and a half. the country on both sides, though bright and green, had a desolate aspect, in consequence of the absence of trees, and enclosures, but the numberless windmills on both sides of the strait proved the fertility of the soil and the comfortable state of the population. from cape takil to ambalaki, where the expeditionary forces landed, the distance was about twelve miles. it was a poor place, built on a small cliff over the sea, which at the south side swept down to the beach by the margin of a salt-water lake. as there was no force to oppose the landing, the men were easily disembarked on a sandy beach, out of range of the batteries, and close to the salt-water lake. this movement threatened to take the russians who were in the batteries in the rear, and to cut off their communication with kertch, which was situated in a bay, concealed from the view of ambalaki by the cape of ak-bournou. [sidenote: an exciting chase.] at forty minutes past one p.m., on approaching kara-bournou, a huge pillar of white smoke rushed up towards the skies, opened out like a gigantic balloon, and then a roar like the first burst of a thunder-storm told us that a magazine had blown up. at a quarter past two another loud explosion took place, and a prodigious quantity of earth was thrown into the air along with the smoke. a third magazine was blown up at twenty-five minutes past two. a tremendous explosion, which seemed to shake the sea and air, took place about three o'clock; and at half-past, three several columns of smoke blending into one, and as many explosions, the echoes of which roared and thundered away together, announced that the russians were destroying their last magazines. they could be seen retreating, some over the hills behind kertch, others towards yenikale. a most exciting scene now took place towards the northward. one of the enemy's steamers had run out of the bay of kertch, which was concealed from our view by the headland, and was running for the straits of yenikale. she was a low schooner-rigged craft, like a man-of-war, and it was uncertain whether she was a government vessel or not. and, just as she passed the cape, two russian merchantmen slipped out and also made towards yenikale. a gunboat dashed after her across the shallows. at the same moment a fine roomy schooner came bowling down with a fair breeze from yenikale, evidently intending to aid her consort, and, very likely, despising the little antagonist which pursued her. the gunboat flew on and passed the first merchantman, at which she fired a shot, by way of making her bring-to. the forts at kertch instantly opened, shot after shot splashed up the water near the gunboat, which kept intrepidly on her way. as the man-of-war schooner ran down towards the russian steamer, the latter gained courage, slackened her speed, and lay-to as if to engage her enemy. a sheet of flame and smoke rushed from the gunboat's sides, and her shot flying over the russian, tossed up a pillar of water far beyond her. alarmed at this taste of her opponent's quality, and intimation of her armament, the russian took flight, and the schooner wore and bore away for yenikale again, with the gunboat after both of them. off the narrow straits between yenikale and the sandbank as the english gunboat, which had been joined by another, ran towards them, a russian battery opened upon her from the town. the gunboats still dashed at their enemies, which tacked, wore, and ran in all directions, as a couple of hawks would harry a flock of larks. sir edmund lyon sent off light steamers to reinforce the two hardy little fellows, the french steamers also rushed to the rescue. the batteries on the sandbank were silenced; they blew up their magazines, and the fort at yenikale soon followed their example. there was a pretty strong current running at the rate of about three miles an hour over the flats off the town of yenikale, and the water was almost as turbid as that of the thames, and of a more yellow hue, as it rushed from the sea of azoff. two gunboats, carrying twelve small pieces each, were moored off the forts of yenikale, and there was a floating battery close to them armed with two very heavy guns, the floor being flush with the water, and the guns quite uncovered. one man was found dead in the battery at yenikale, lying, as he fell, with the match in his hand, close to the gun he was about to fire, and two more russians were found dead on the beach, but they looked as if they had been killed by the explosion of the magazine. the guns in yenikale were new and fine. some of them were mounted on a curious kind of swivel--the platforms were upon the american principle. one brass piece, which was lying near the guard-house, was said to have been taken from the turks at sinope. two barks, armed on the main-deck with guns, and used as transports, were resting on the sand, where they had been sunk by our ships as they attempted to escape to the sea of azoff. it was suspected that there were few regular troops in proportion to the numbers in and about kertch and yenikale, and that there was a large proportion of invalids, local militia men, and pensioners among the soldiers who made such a feeble and inglorious defence. the appearance of our armada as it approached must have been most formidable. the hospital, which was in excellent order, contained sick and wounded soldiers, the former suffering from rheumatism, the latter sent from sebastopol. the enemy fired the magazine close at hand without caring for these unfortunate fellows, and every pane of glass in the windows was shattered to pieces by the explosion. the total number of guns taken at yenikale was about twenty-five, of which ten were in a battery inside the old genoese ramparts, four in a detached battery, and eleven lying partially dismounted about the works. at about half-past six o'clock the batteries in the bay of kertch ceased firing, and the russians abandoned the town. dark pillars of smoke, tinged at the base with flame, began to shoot up all over the hill-sides. some of them rose from the government houses and stores of ambalaki, where we landed; others from isolated houses further inland; others from stores, which the retreating russians destroyed in their flight. constant explosions shook the air, and single guns sounded here and there continuously throughout the night. here a ship lay blazing on a sandbank; there a farm-house in flames lighted up the sky, and obscured the pale moon with volumes of inky smoke. [sidenote: a general "loot."] as there was nothing to be done at sea, the ships being brought to anchor far south of the scene of action with the gunboats, it was resolved to land at the nearest spot, which was about one mile and a half or two miles from pavlovskaya battery. a row of half a mile brought us from our anchorage, where the ship lay, in three fathoms, to a beautiful shelving beach, which was exposed, however, only for a few yards, as the rich sward grew close to the brink of the tideless sea. the water at the shore, unaffected by the current, was clear, and abounded in fish. the land rose abruptly, at the distance of yards from the beach, to a ridge parallel to the line of the sea about feet in height, and the interval between the shore and the ridge was dotted with houses, in patches here and there, through which the french were already running riot, breaking in doors, pursuing hens, smashing windows--in fact, "plundering," in which they were assisted by all of our men who could get away. highlanders, in little parties, sought about for water, or took a stray peep after a "bit keepsake" in the houses on their way to the wells, but the french were always before them, and great was the grumbling at the comparative license allowed to our allies. the houses were clean outside and in--whitewashed neatly, and provided with small well-glazed windows, which were barely adequate, however, to light up the two rooms of which each dwelling consisted, but the heavy sour smell inside was most oppressive and disagreeable; it seemed to proceed from the bags of black bread and vessels of fish oil which were found in every cabin. each dwelling had out-houses, stables for cattle, pens, bakeries, and rude agricultural implements outside. the ploughs were admirably described by virgil, and a reference to _adams's antiquities_ will save me a world of trouble in satisfying the curiosity of the farming interest at home. notwithstanding the great richness of the land, little had been done by man to avail himself of its productiveness. i never in my life saw such quantities of weeds or productions of such inexorable ferocity towards pantaloons, or such eccentric flowers of huge dimensions, as the ground outside these cottages bore. the inhabitants were evidently graziers rather than agriculturists. around every house were piles of a substance like peat, which is made, we were informed, from the dung of cattle, and is used as fuel. the cattle, however, had been all driven away. none were taken that i saw, though the quantity which fed in the fields around must have been very great. poultry and ducks were, however, captured in abundance, and a party of chasseurs, who had taken a huge wild-looking boar, were in high delight at their fortune, and soon despatched and cut him up into junks with their swords. the furniture was all smashed to pieces; the hens and ducks, captives to the bow and spear of the gaul, were cackling and quacking piteously as they were carried off in bundles from their homes by zouaves and chasseurs. every house we entered was ransacked, and every cupboard had a pair of red breeches sticking out of it, and a blue coat inside of it. vessels of stinking oil, bags of sour bread, casks of flour or ham, wretched clothing, old boots, beds ripped up for treasure, the hideous pictures of saints on panelling or paper which adorned every cottage, with lamps suspended before them, were lying on the floors. droles dressed themselves in faded pieces of calico dresses or aged finery lying hid in old drawers, and danced about the gardens. one house, which had been occupied as a guard-house, and was marked on a board over the door "no. kardone," was a scene of especial confusion. its inmates had evidently fled in great disorder, for their greatcoats and uniform jackets strewed the floors, and bags of the black bread filled every corner, as well as an incredible quantity of old boots. a french soldier, who, in his indignation at not finding anything of value, had with great wrath devastated the scanty and nasty-looking furniture, was informing his comrades outside of the atrocities which had been committed, and added, with the most amusing air of virtue in the world, "_ah, messieurs, messieurs! ces brigands! ils ont volés tout!_" no doubt he had settled honourably with the proprietor of a large bundle of living poultry which hung panting over his shoulders, and which were offered to us upon very reasonable terms. we were glad to return from a place which a soldier of the st said "a glasgae beggar wad na tak a gift o'." in the evening the _spitfire_ buoyed a passage past kertch towards yenikale, and the _miranda_, _stromboli_, and gunboats ran up the newly marked channel. next morning (the th) the troops after a fatiguing march entered yenikale. mr. williams, master of the _miranda_, buoyed a channel into the sea of azoff. the allied squadrons, commanded by captain lyons, _miranda_, consisted of _curlew_, _swallow_, _stromboli_, _vesuvius_, _medina_, _ardent_, _recruit_, _wrangler_, _beagle_, _viper_, _snake_, _arrow_, and _lynx_, entered the great russian lake in the afternoon. captain lyons' squadron, in the sea of azoff, meantime inflicted tremendous losses on the enemy. within four days after the squadron passed the straits of kertch they had destroyed russian vessels employed in carrying provisions to the russian army in the crimea, many of them of large size, and fully equipped and laden. some of these ships had been built for this specific purpose. immense magazines of corn, flour, and breadstuffs were destroyed at berdiansk and genitchi, comprising altogether more than , , rations, and the stores at taganrog were set on fire, and much corn consumed. arabat was bombarded, and the powder magazine blown up, but, as there were no troops on board the vessels, and as the russians were in force, it seemed more desirable to captain lyons to urge on the pursuit of the enemy's vessels than to stay before a place which must very soon fall into our hands. at berdiansk the enemy were forced to run on shore and burn four war steamers, under the command of rear-admiral wolff. at kertch the enemy destroyed upwards of , , lbs. of corn and , lbs. of flour. [sidenote: a fatiguing march.] yenikale derives its importance from its position on a promontory close to the entrance of the sea of azoff, at the northern extremity of the straits of kertch. another of the singular banks to be found in this part of the world, shooting from the north-eastern extremity of the taman peninsula, runs through the sea in a southerly and westerly direction for seven miles and a half towards yenikale, and contracts the strait to the breadth of a mile and three-quarters just before it opens into the sea of azoff. on this bank, which is full of salt-water marshes, and is two or three miles broad in some places, the russians had a strong battery commanding the ferry station, armed with long and heavy -pounders, and a number of government buildings of a mean description, and there were great numbers of fishing huts and curing sheds also upon it. the town consisted of two parts--one a suburb of houses close to the water's edge, and commanded by a ridge of high land rising gradually from the sea. the church, a handsome building in the byzantine style, stood on the hill-side, in the midst of this suburb. the other part consisted of the fort, which was formed by a quadrangular rampart, armed at the angles with bastions and small turrets. each side of the square was about a quarter of a mile long. the side parallel to the sea-wall was on the top of the ridge, into which the ground rose gradually from the sea, and the sea-wall itself had at its base a broad quay by the water's edge. the ridge once gained, the country extended before one in a spacious plateau, with conical mounds and tumuli, forming natural advanced posts for vedettes in the distance. on the land side the ramparts were provided with embrasures, and were crenellated for musketry; the walls, though very old, were of great solidity, and were tolerably well preserved. inside the enclosure were the hospital, the government house, the barrack, the batteries, and the stores and magazines. one of the magazines which was blown up completely destroyed about two hundred feet of the curtain of the work on the land side. there were marks of ancient entrenchments outside the walls, and the moats, ditches, covered ways, &c., very well defined. the march from ambalaki to yenikale was most distressing. the heat of the day was overpowering, and water was scanty and bad. of marines who landed from the fleet, four-fifths fell out on the march, the men of that gallant corps not being accustomed to such exertions. the highlanders fell out in great numbers also, and the tailing off was extraordinary, although the distance was not six miles. when the men did arrive it was found that the tents had not come, and the soldiers were exposed to the blaze of the sun, aggravated by scarcity of water and by salt meat. the officers' baggage was left behind at ambalaki, and many of them had to lie in their clothes on the ground in a season when night dews are heavy and dangerous. the men had their blankets; the officers had nothing. immense quantities of caviare, of dried sturgeon, and of a coarse-scaled fish like a bream, were found in every village, and were relished by our soldiers, but they had very imperfect means of gratifying the thirst which followed, and the stores of country wine (some of it excellent, in spite of the adulteration of essence of roses) were nearly all drank up. the water of the straits was brackish, and our horses, as well as the native cattle, drank it readily, but its taste was very mawkish and disagreeable. as there was nothing doing at yenikale, i took an opportunity of paying kertch a visit. it is only a run of some three or four miles by sea, but the channel is very difficult. as we approached the town, long columns of gray smoke were visible rising from the corn stores, and working parties could be made out on the shore engaged in removing various articles which could be turned to the account of the allies. sir george brown took up his quarters in yenikale. but the town was set on fire in two places, and it required all the exertions of the authorities to prevent the flames spreading and devastating the whole place. the houses were smashed open, the furniture broken to pieces, and "looting" and plundering were the order or the disorder of the day. two of the nd highlanders, who were in a crowd assembled round a house, were shot in a very extraordinary manner. a french soldier struck at the closed door with the butt of his musket. the concussion discharged the piece, and the ball killed one of the men on the spot, and wounded the other severely. the austrian flag floated before one house, probably that of the imperial consul; but the more significant standards of france and england were waving at either end of the quay, and fluttered from numerous boats glancing over the water. the quays were guarded by a few sailors with drawn cutlasses stationed here and there, and with difficulty holding their own against refractory merchantmen. in every direction, wherever the eye turned, up or down the streets, men could be seen hurrying away with bundles under their arms, with furniture on their backs, or staggering under the influence of drink and bedding down to the line of boats which were lying at the sea-wall, laden to the thwarts with plunder. this kind of work is called by sailors "looting," from our indian reminiscences. the fate of nearly every house of good condition was soon apparent. the windows were broken, the doors smashed open, and men went in and out like bees in a hive. all the smaller and more valuable articles had been removed, either by the turks or by the tartars, but big arm-chairs, pictures of the saints with metallic glories round their heads, large feather-beds, card-tables, and books in unknown tongues and type, seemed to possess a strange infatuation for jack, and to move him as irresistibly as horseflesh. [sidenote: tartar and russian beauties.] there were plenty of tartars in the streets, dressed in black sheepskin cap, or white turban, with handsome jackets and wide breeches of dark silk or fine stuff, and gaudy sashes round their waists. these fellows were of the true calmuck type--with bullet head, forehead villanously low, dark, piggish, roguish, twinkling eyes, obtuse, obstinate noses, straight lips, and globular chin. unlike most people, they improve in looks as they grow old, for their beards, which only attain amplitude in age, then give a grisly dignity and patriarchal air to their faces. groups of men in long lank frock-coats, long waistcoats, trousers tucked into their boots or falling down over slipshod feet, sat on the door-steps, in aspect and attire the very image of a congregation of seedy puseyites, if such a thing could be imagined. most of these men wore caps instead of hats, their clothing was of sober snuffy hues, to match their faces, which were sombre and dirty and sallow. their looks were dejected and miserable, and as an englishman or a frenchman came near, they made haste to rise and to salute his mightiness with uncovered head and obsequious noddings and gesticulations. these were the remnants of the russian population, but there were among them jews, who might have stepped on any stage amid rounds of applause, in garb and face and aspect so truly shylock-like were they, cringing, wily, and spiteful, as though they had just been kicked across the rialto; and there was also a sprinkling of armenians and greeks; they were all lean and unhappy alike, and very sorry specimens of muscovite _bourgeoisie_. tartar women, scantily covered, were washing clothes in the sea, like tamed hecates--withered, angular, squalid, and ugly in face and form. the russian fair, not much more tastily clad, might be seen flitting about with an air of awkward coquetry, mingled with apprehension and dislike of the intruders, their heads covered with shawls, and their bodies with bright manchester patterns. the boys, like boys all over the world, were merry and mischievous. they hung out of the riggings of the vessels near, pelted the street dogs, "chivied" the cats and pigeons, and rioted in the gutted houses and amid the open storehouses in the highest possible spirits, or fed ravenously on dried fish and "goodies" of various kinds, which they picked up in old drawers and boxes in the houses torn open by the "looters." the houses were well supplied with poultry, nor were pigs, rabbits, cats, dogs, and other domestic animals deficient. each mansion was complete in itself; they were like those in the older streets of boulogne, and the interiors were furnished somewhat in the same fashion--plenty of mirrors, and hard, inflexible, highly varnished, unsubstantial furniture, no carpets, lots of windows (doubled, by-the-by, to keep out the cold) and doors, and long corridors; the windows and doors were, however, handsomely mounted with brass work, and locks, bolts, and hinges, of great solidity, of the same metal, were exclusively used in the better rooms. the russian stove, as a matter of course, was found in each apartment. spacious vaults underneath the houses were often used as storehouses for corn, and the piles of empty and broken bottles marked the locality of the wine-cellar. icehouses were attached to many residences, and their contents were very welcome to the ships. the market-place is a large piece of ground of an oval shaper surrounded by a piazza and shops and magazines of an inferior class. most of them were shut, and fastened up, but butchers displayed some good english-looking beef, and the sounds of english revelry were very distinct from the interior of a wine-shop at the end of an arcade, where some sailors were drinking russian champagne at _s._ a bottle, and smoking cheap and nasty cigars of native manufacture. amid the distracting alphabetical mysteries of cyrillus, which were stuck up on most of these doors, where all one's knowledge of other languages led him hopelessly astray, and where p was r, and h was n, there was sometimes an intelligible announcement that mdlle. so-and-so was a _modiste_ from paris, or that m. brugger was a bootmaker "of the first force" from vienna. the greater number of the houses in the streets were entered through a large courtyard, surrounded by the offices and out-buildings, to which admission was gained by a _porte-cochère_. there were baths, libraries, schools, literary associations, and academies in kertch of pretensions beyond its size. all the military and civil archives of kertch since were discovered in a boat towed by the steamer which the _snake_ had chased, huddled up with the valuables of the governor of kertch. in general our army found but little plunder--they had been reined tightly in; while the french and the merchant sailors had the benefit of the pillage; but the th regiment were a little fortunate in finding at the advanced post to which they were sent, near the quarantine station, a considerable amount of plate in one of the houses. the hospital was a large, well-built, clean, and excellently ventilated building. it was situated at the outskirts of the town, and was surrounded by iron railings, inside which there was a plantation, which furnished a pleasant shade from the noontide sun to the convalescents. as we entered, some women, who were standing at the gate, retreated, and an old man, with a good clear eye, and an honest soldierly air, came forward to meet us with the word "hospital," which he had learned as a kind of safeguard and protection against intrusion. he led the way into a dark corridor on the ground floor, on the walls of which the regulations of the establishment (in russian) were suspended. the wards opened on each side of this corridor. the old man invited us to enter the first: it was spacious and airy, but the hospital smell of wounded men was there. five wounded russians and one drunken englishman were the occupants of the chamber. two of the russians had been blown up when the magazines exploded. their hands and heads were covered with linen bandages, through which holes were cut for the eyes and mouth. what could be seen of these poor wretches gave a horrible impression of their injuries and of the pain which they were enduring, but they gave no outward indication of their sufferings. their scorched eyes rolled heavily upon the visitors with a kind of listless curiosity. the other men had been shot in various parts of the body, and had probably been sent there from sebastopol: in one or two i recognized the old inkerman type of face and expression. the bed and bedclothes were clean and good, and at the head of each bed black tablets of wood were fixed to receive the record of the patient's name, his disease, &c. on reaching the street we found the people returning to the town--that is, the tartars were flocking back from the villages where they had been hiding, with bundles of property, much of which they had probably stolen from the russian houses. [sidenote: great destruction of stores.] as every wrecked house bore a strong family likeness to its fellow, we entered only one or two, and then wandered through the streets, which were almost deserted by the inhabitants during the heat of the day. towards evening a number of wounded russians--forty-seven, i believe--were brought down from yenikale, whither they had been taken by the gunboats from various places along the coast, and were landed on the quay. they were subsequently sent to the hospital. the tartar arabas and droschkies were pressed into the service. as each wounded man passed, the women crowded round to look at him out of the houses; but there was more of curiosity than compassion in their looks; and they took care to inform us they were jews, and had no sympathy with the muscovite. once they stared with wonder at the taste and inborn politeness of a french soldier, who joined the group as a russian was borne by on a litter. the man's eyes were open, and as he went past he caught sight of the frenchman and smiled feebly, why or wherefore it is impossible for me to say, but the frenchman at once removed his cap, made a bow to the "brave," and stood with uncovered head till the latter had been carried some yards beyond him. in the evening all the inhabitants remaining in the town flocked out of their houses and conversed at the corners of the streets, or at favourite gossip-posts. they were an unhealthy and by no means well-favoured race, whether tartars, greeks, jews, or muscovites. it must be remembered, however, that all the people of rank had fled. some of the tradespeople, with greater confidence in our integrity than could have been expected, kept their shops open. in a well-fitted _apteka_ or apothecary's shop, we got a seidlitzy imitation of soda-water, prepared from a box, marked in english, "improved sodaic powders, for making soda-water;" and some of our party fitted themselves at a bootmaker's with very excellent wellingtons, for which they paid at their discretion, and according to a conqueror's tariff, _s._ a pair; the proprietor seemed rather apprehensive that he was not going to receive anything at all. indeed it would have been well if the inhabitants had remained to guard their houses, instead of flying from them, and leaving them shut up and locked, the very thing to provoke the plunderer. the dockyard magazines at kertch contained quantities of military and naval stores--boiler plates, lathes, engineers' tools, paint, canvas, hemp and chain cables, bales of greatcoats, uniform jackets, trowsers and caps, knapsacks, belts, bayonets, swords, scabbards, anchors, copper nails and bolts, implements of foundry, brass, rudder-pintles, lead, &c. the french were busy for a few days in taking the clothing, &c., out of the storehouses and destroying it. the valuable stores were divided between the allies, according to their good fortune and energy in appropriation. numbers of old boats, of large rudders, covered with copper and hung on brass, of small guns, of shot, shell, grape, and canister, were lying in the dockyard. an infernal machine of curious construction attracted a great deal of attention. like most devices of the kind, it had failed to be of the slightest service. outside the walls of the dockyard, which was filled with oxen and horses, was another long range of public buildings and storehouses, which had been nearly all gutted and destroyed. soldiers' caps, belts, coats, trowsers, cartouche-boxes, knapsacks, and canteens, were strewn all over the quay in front of them. in a word, kertch had ceased to be a military or naval station, and the possession which russia so eagerly coveted a few years before was of no more use to her than the snows of the tchatir dagh. on friday night the work of destroying russian stores began; the french hurled guns into the sea, tore up the platforms, and exploded the shells found in the magazines. parties of boats were sent in all directions to secure and burn prizes, to fire the storehouses and huts on the sandbanks; by day the sky was streaked with lines of smoke, and by night the air was illuminated by the blaze of forts, houses, magazines, and vessels aground on the flats for miles around us. the austrian consul was found to have a large store of corn, which he concealed in magazines painted and decorated to pass as part of his dwelling-house. it was all destroyed. amid the necessary destruction, private plunderers found facility for their work. the scene presented by the town could only be likened to that presented by palmyra, fresh from the hands of the destroyer, or some other type of desolation. along the quay there was a long line of walls, which once were the fronts of storehouses, magazines, mansions, and palaces. they were empty shells, hollow and roofless, with fire burning luridly within them by night, and streaks and clouds of parti-coloured smoke arising from them by day. the white walls were barred with black bands where the fire had rushed out of the window-frames. these storehouses belonged to russians, and were full of corn--these magazines were the enemy's--these mansions belonged to their nobles and governors--and these palaces were the residences of their princes and rulers; and so far we carried on war with all the privileges of war, and used all the consequences of conquest. in the whole lengthened front facing the sea, and the wide quay which bordered it, there was not an edifice untouched but one. this was a fine mansion, with a grand semicircular front, ornamented with rich entablatures and a few grecian pillars. the windows permitted one to see massive mirrors and the framework of pictures and the glitter of brasswork. inside the open door an old man in an arm-chair received everybody. how deferential he was! how he bowed! how graceful, deprecatory, and soothing the modulation of his trunk and arms! but these were nothing to his smile. his face seemed a kind of laughing-clock, wound up to act for so many hours. when the machinery was feeble, towards evening, the laugh degenerated into a grin, but he had managed with nods, and cheeks wreathed in smiles, and a little bad german and french, to inform all comers that this house was specially under english and french protection, and thus to save it from plunder and pillage. the house belonged, _on dit_, to prince woronzoff, and the guardian angel was an aged servitor of the prince, who, being paralytic, was left behind, and had done good service in his arm-chair. the silence of places which a few days before were full of people was exceedingly painful and distressing. it reigned in every street, almost in every house, except when the noise of gentlemen playing on pianos with their boot-heels, or breaking up furniture, was heard within the houses, or the flames crackled within the walls. in some instances the people had hoisted the french or sardinian flag to protect their houses. that poor device was soon detected and frustrated. it was astonishing to find that the humblest dwellings had not escaped. they must have been invaded for the mere purpose of outrage and from the love of mischief, for the most miserable of men could have but little hope of discovering within them booty worthy of his notice. [sidenote: spit of arabat.] it was decided to occupy pavlovskaia, because it was in a fine position to command the entrance to kertch and yenikale, at a place where the channel is narrowed by one of the sandbanks from taman to the breadth of a mile and a half. defensive lines were thrown up around yenikale of the most massive and durable character. they enclosed the ramparts of the old town, and presented on every side towards the land a broad ditch, a steep parapet defended by redoubts, and broken into batteries, which were aided by the fire of the pieces on the walls. the point or bank of tcherhka, opposite yenikale, is one of the many extraordinary spits of land which abound in this part of the world, and which are, as far as i know, without example in any other country. of all these the spit of arabat, which is a bank but a few feet above the water, and is in some places only a furlong in breadth, is the most remarkable. it is nearly miles in length, and its average width less than half a mile from sea to sea. the bank of tcherhka (or savernaia rosa), which runs for nearly eight miles in a south-westerly direction from cape kammenoi past yenikale, closes up the bay of kertch on the west, and the gulf of taman on the east, is a type of these formations, and is sufficiently interesting to deserve a visit. it only differs from arabat in size, and in the absence of the fresh-water wells which are found at long intervals on the great road from arabat to genitchi. it is so low that it is barely six feet above the level of the sea. a bank of sand on both sides of the spit, piled up three or four feet in height, marks the boundary of the beach. the latter, which is a bank of shingle, shells, and fine sand, is only a few yards broad, and is terminated by the sand and rank grass and rushes of the spit, which rises up a foot or two above the beach. in the interior, or on the body of the bank, there are numerous lagunes--narrow strips of water much more salt than that of the adjacent sea. some of these are only a few yards in length and a few feet in breadth, others extend for a quarter of a mile, and are about yards broad. they are all bounded alike by thick high grass and rushes. the bottom, at the depth of a few feet--often at two or three inches--consists of hard sand covered with slimy green vegetable matter. the water abounds in small flounders and dabs, and in shrimps, which jump about in wild commotion at an approaching footstep. every lagune is covered with mallards and ducks in pairs, and the fringes of the spit are the resort of pelicans and cormorants innumerable. the silence, the dreary solitude of the scene is beyond description. even the birds, mute as they are at the season of my visit, appeared to be preternaturally quiet and voiceless. multitudes of old, crustaceous-looking polypous plants sprang up through the reeds; and bright-coloured flycatchers, with orange breasts and black wings, poised over their nests below them. [sidenote: pillage of kertch.] the first day i went over, we landed upon the beach close to the battery which the russians placed on the spit at the ferry station. it consisted of a quadrangular work of sandbags, constructed in a very durable manner, and evidently not long made. in the centre of the square there was a whitewashed house, which served as a barrack for the garrison. the walls only were left, and the smoke rose from the ashes of the roof and rafters inside the shell. our men had fired it when they landed. a pool of brackish water was enclosed by the battery, which must have been the head-quarters of ague and misery. the sailors said the house swarmed with vermin, and had a horrible odour. nothing was found in it but the universal black bread and some salt fish. the garrison, some or men probably, had employed themselves in a rude kind of agriculture, and farming or pasturage. patches of ground were cleared here and there, and gave feeble indications that young potatoes were struggling for life beneath. large ricks of reeds and coarse grass had been gathered round the battery, but were reduced to ashes. at the distance of a hundred yards from the battery there was another whitewashed house, or the shell of it, with similar signs of rural life about it, and an unhappy-looking cat trod gingerly among the hot embers, and mewed piteously in the course of her fruitless search for her old corner. the traces of herds of cattle, which were probably driven down from the mainland to feed on the grass round the salt marshes, were abundant. there was a track beaten into the semblance of a road over the sand from the battery to taman, and it was covered with proofs of the precipitate flight of the garrison. pieces of uniform, bags containing pieces of the universal black bread, strings of onions, old rags, empty sacks and bottles, were found along the track, and some of our party came upon a large chest, which was full of government papers, stamps, custom-house and quarantine dockets, stamped paper for imperial petitions and postage, books of tariff and customs in russian, french, german, and english, and tables of port dues, which we took away to any amount. the heat of the sun, the vapours from the salt lakes, the mosquitoes, the vermin, and the odour, must have formed a terrible combination of misery in close barracks in the dog-days, and have rendered going out, staying in, lying down, and standing up, equally desperate and uncomfortable. the enemy relied considerably on the shallow water to save him from attack, but he was also prepared with heavy metal for gunboats, such as they were in the old war, and he was no doubt astonished when the large shot from the lancaster guns began to fall upon his works from the small hulls of our despatch gunboats. one of the gunboats which lay off the fort--a mere hulk, without masts or cordage, of tons burden, with embrasures through her sides on the deck for nine small guns--was found to be filled below with the most complete series of galvanic apparatus, attached to vessels full of powder, intended to explode on contact with the keel of a vessel. the submarine machines with their strange cups and exploding apparatus were recognized by mr. deane, the diver, as portions of the same kinds of instruments as those he employed in submarine operations. all were regularly numbered, and, as there was a break in the series, it afforded reason for believing that some of them were actually sunk; but the wires connecting them with the battery on board the ship were cut the night we forced the straits, and the vessel itself was scuttled subsequently. there were many miles of wire, and the number of cells indicated a very powerful battery. the pillage of kertch still went on; the inhabitants fled. even the tartars were in terror. for two or three days the beach was crowded by women and children, who sat out under the rays of the scorching sun to find safety in numbers. they were starving, and miserably clad, and in charity were taken on board the _ripon_, which sailed with them for some russian port. they were about two hundred in number. mothers had lost their children, and children were without their mothers. in the confusion which prevailed they were separated, and the _caton_ carried some off to the sea of azoff, and the _ripon_ took others off to odessa or yalta. our attempts to prevent outrage and destruction were of the feeblest and most contemptible character. if a sailor was found carrying any articles--books, or pictures, or furniture--they were taken from him at the beach and cast into the sea. the result was that the men, when they got loose in the town, where there was no control over them, broke to pieces everything that they could lay their hands on. we did not interfere with french or turks, and our measures against our own men were harsh, ridiculous, and impotent. prince woronzoff's house was said to be under the protection of the english and french. was he protected because he was a prince, or merely because he was supposed to be friendly to the englishmen, and connected with some english families? sir george brown assuredly had no natural sympathy with pure aristocracy or with anything but pure democratic soldiery and military good fortune. it might have been--nay, it was--right to save prince woronzoff's house, but would it not have been equally proper to protect the stock-in-trade of some miserable russian mechanic who remained in the town trusting to our clemency, and who was ruined by a few brutal sailors? prince woronzoff had many palaces. his friendly feelings towards england were at best known to but few, and were certainly of no weight with frenchmen, because those sentiments, if they existed at all, dated from a period antecedent to the true _entente cordiale_, and were suggestive of anything but good liking towards frenchmen. however, the house was so far safe, and if we were sorry that the museum was sacked, we might be proud that the palace was spared. the marks of useless destruction and of wanton violence and outrage were too numerous and too distressing to let us rest long on the spectacle of this virgin palace. the following extract from a "general after order," which came out subsequently, gives a summary of the operations effected by our expeditionary force:-- "berdiansk has been destroyed, with four war steamers. "arabat, a fortress mounting thirty guns, after resisting an hour and a half, had its magazine blown up by the fire of our ships. "genitchi refused to capitulate, and was set fire to by shells. ninety ships in its harbour were destroyed, with corn and stores to the amount of £ , . "in these operations the loss to the enemy during four days has amounted to four war steamers, merchant vessels, and corn and magazines to the amount of £ , . upwards of guns have been taken. it is estimated that four months' rations for , men of the russian army have been destroyed. "on the circassian coast the enemy evacuated soudjak kaleh on the th of may, after destroying all the principal buildings and sixty guns and six mortars. "the fort on the road between soudjak kaleh and anapa is also evacuated." [sidenote: the first "monitor."] subsequently an attack was made on taganrog, but the depth of water off the port did not permit the larger vessels to approach near enough to cover the landing of armed parties, to destroy the immense stores of corn effectually; nevertheless a good deal of harm was done to the russians, and public and private property largely injured. it was on the occasion of the demonstration against this important town, apparently, that the germ of the great idea of the _monitor_, which has revolutionized the navies of the world, was developed by lt. cowper coles, r.n. he mounted a gun on a raft and defended it with gabions, and he was enabled to bring this floating battery, which he called the _lady nancy_, into action with great effect against taganrog. in the development of that idea called the _captain_ he lost his life in . these operations along the coasts of the sea of azoff certainly caused losses to the enemy, and may have done something to create temporary inconvenience; they were effected in a legitimate if rather barbarous exercise of the rights of war, but when a few months subsequently the british army before sebastopol was in such need of corn that contractors were sent out to buy it in the united states, it must have occurred to the authorities that they had countenanced senseless waste, and authorized wanton destruction, to their great eventual detriment. as the naval forces were obliged to retire after each bombardment, and the landing of armed parties was only temporary, the enemy generally claimed the credit of having repulsed them, and russia was inundated with accounts of the disasters caused by the bravery of priests and peasants, and divine interposition, to the audacious invaders who had ventured to pollute her holy soil. cheap prints of the defence of taganrog, &c., were published and sold by the thousand, and the people were excited by accounts of the death of innocent people, of the sacking of undefended cities, and of arson and pillage and wreck. kertch and yenikale were placed in a state of defence and garrisoned, and eventually the turkish contingent was stationed on the coast and in the town, and a small force of infantry and cavalry was detached from the british to aid them. the contingent, composed of turks under british officers, became a highly disciplined body, fit for any duty, but its value and conduct were not exhibited in the field, and it was employed as a corps of defence and observation on the bay of kertch till the war was over, when it and the other corps raised abroad under british officers, such as the swiss legion, the german legion, &c., were disbanded. the russians soon sent a corps to observe the movements of the force stationed at kertch and yenikale, and hemmed them in with cossacks, and some slight affairs of outposts and reconnoitring parties occurred during the autumn and winter, in one of which a party of the th hussars had difficulty in extricating itself, and suffered some loss from a larger body of the enemy. the work of the expedition to kertch having been accomplished by the occupation of the town and straits, and by obtaining complete command of the entrance of the sea of azoff, the allied fleets returned to kamiesh and to the anchorage off sebastopol, to participate as far as they could in the task of the siege. book vi. combined attacks on the enemy's counter approaches--capture of the quarries and mamelon--the assault of the th of june--lord raglan's death. chapter i. preparations for the attack--important news--the assault--the quarries and the mamelon--a desperate attempt--plan of another attack--assault of the malakoff and the great redan--failure--naval brigade--an armistice--inside the mamelon--sad scenes. whilst i was away with the kertch expedition, the siege was pressed on by the french with great vigour, and our army was actively employed in preparing for the bombardment which was to precede the fall of the place, as all fondly hoped and believed. there were intervals in the day when you might suppose that "villanous saltpetre" had no more to do with a modern siege than an ancient one, and that all this demonstration of a state of conflict was merely an amicable suit upon an extensive scale. there were times at night when angry and sudden explosions sprang up as if by some unaccountable impulse or conjuration, and continued with an impetuosity which seemed as if it intended to finish the whole business in a moment. there were times when the red fusees turned and tumbled in the air like hot coals belched out of a volcano, and danced successive hornpipes upon nothing; then the clatter of small arms broke upon the ear in distant imitation of the heavy artillery, like a little dog yelping in gratuitous rivalry of a big one. the fighting was done by jerks and starts, and the combatants, like homer's heroes, stood at ease the best part of the time, and took it coolly, meaning deadly mischief all the while. the sharpest onset was generally on the side of our allies, about the flagstaff or the quarantine battery, where they were sedulously advancing their endless mileage of trench and parallel, and promising themselves a result before long. for the third time our fire was opened along the whole range of positions on the th of june. at half-past two o'clock on that day guns and mortars on our side, and above on that of the french, awoke from silence to tumult. [sidenote: attack on the quarries.] the two armies--one might say the four armies, but that the turks and sardinians were not expected to take a very prominent part in the trench-work and assault--were in strength equal to any achievement, and in spirits ever chiding the delay, and urging that one touch of the bayonet which made all the world scamper. if the strategic necessity pointed to some more decisive action this time, so, on the other hand, the intention of going beyond a vain cannonade was tolerably plain. our fire was kept up for the first three hours with excessive rapidity, the russians answering by no means on an equal scale, though with considerable warmth. on our side the predominance of shells was very manifest, and distinguished the present cannonade in some degree even from the last. the superiority of our fire over the enemy became apparent at various points before nightfall, especially in the redan, which was under the especial attention of the naval brigade. the russians displayed, however, plenty of determination and bravado. they fired frequent salvos at intervals of four or six guns, and also, by way of reprisals, threw heavy shot up to our light division and on to the picquet-house-hill. after dark the animosity on both sides gave signs of relaxing, but the same relative advantage was maintained by our artillery. it was a sultry day, with the dull mist of extreme heat closing down upon the valleys, and with no air to rend away the curtain of smoke which swayed between the town and our batteries; and at night flashes of lightning in the north-east made a counter-illumination on the rear of our position. a still and sluggish atmosphere, half mist, half gunpowder, hung about the town in the early morning of june the th, and the sun enfilading the points of view from the horizon, telescopes were put out of joint. the redan, however, which rose up boldly in front of the hills that sloped from cathcart's mound, gave some evidence of having yielded to rough treatment, the jaws of its embrasures gaping, and its fire being irregular and interrupted. at nine a cool, strong breeze sprang up, and continued throughout the day. the whole range of fire from right to left became visible in a bright sun, that for once was not scorching. the enemy either could not or would not keep up a very vigorous reply. all the early part of the day we had the work very much to ourselves. about eleven o'clock a shell from the russians exploded a magazine in our eight-gun battery, and a yell of delight followed. very slight harm resulted--one man was killed, one wounded, and a few scorched a little. as the day wore on, it leaked out that the double attack would probably commence at five or six p.m. an immense concourse of officers and men was gathered on cathcart's hill, and along the spines of the heights which wind towards sebastopol. the fire on our side assumed a sudden fury about three o'clock. between five and six o'clock lord raglan and his staff took up a position on the edge of the hill below the limekiln, where it commanded our four-gun battery, and looked straight into the teeth of the redan. about half-past six the head of the french column came into view, as it climbed to the mamelon. a rocket was thrown up, and instantly our men made a rush at the quarries. after one slight check they drove out the russians, and, turning round the gabions, commenced making themselves snug; but the interest was so entirely concentrated upon the more exciting scene, full in view upon the right, that they had to wait a good while before attention was directed to their conflict. [sidenote: brilliant firing.] the french went up the steep to the mamelon in loose order, and in most beautiful style. every straining eye was upon their movements, which the declining daylight did not throw out into bold relief. still their figures, like light shadows flitting across the dun barrier of earthworks, were seen to mount up unfailingly--running, climbing, scrambling up the slopes on to the body of the work, amid a plunging fire from the guns, which did them as yet little damage. as an officer, who saw bosquet wave them on, said, "they went in like a clever pack of hounds." in a moment some of these dim wraiths shone out clear against the sky. the zouaves were upon the parapet, the next moment a flag was hoisted up as a rallying-point and defiance, and was seen to sway hither and thither, now up, now down, as the tide of battle raged. it was seven minutes and a half from the commencement. then there came a rush of the french through the angle, where they had entered, and momentary confusion outside. groups were collected on the hither side in shelter. but hardly had the need of support become manifest, and a gun or two again flashed from the embrasure, than there was another run in, another sharp fight, and this time the russians went out spiking their guns. twice the russians made head against the current, for they had a large mass of troops in reserve, covered by the guns of the round tower; twice they were forced back by the onsweeping flood of french. for ten minutes or so the quick flash and roll of small arms declared how the uncertain fight waxed and waned inside the enclosure. then the back door, if one may use an humble metaphor, was burst open. the noise of the conflict went away down the descent on the side towards the town, and the arena grew larger. it was apparent by the space over which the battle spread, that the russians had been reinforced. when the higher ground again became the seat of action,--when there came the second rush of the french back upon their supports, for the former one was a mere reflux or eddy of the stream,--when rocket after rocket went up ominously from the french general's position, and seemed to emphasize by their repetition some very plain command, we began to get nervous. it was growing darker and darker, too, so that with our glasses we could with difficulty distinguish the actual state of affairs. there was even a dispute for some time as to whether our allies were going in or out of the work, and the staff themselves were by no means clear as to what was going on. at last, through the twilight, we discerned that the french were pouring in. after the interval of doubt, our ears could gather that the swell and babble of the fight was once more rolling down the inner face of the hill, and that the russians were conclusively beaten. "they are well into it this time," says one to another, handing over the glass. the musket flashes were no more to be seen within it. there was no more lightning of the heavy guns from the embrasures. a shapeless hump upon a hull, the mamelon was an extinct volcano, until such time as it should please our allies to call it again into action. then, at last, the more hidden struggle of our own men in the hollow on the left came uppermost. "how are our fellows getting on?" says one. "oh! take my word for it, they're all right," says another. and they were, so far as taking the quarries was concerned, but they had nevertheless to fight all night. as it grew dark our advanced battery under the green-hill made very pretty practice by flipping shells over our men's heads at the russians. from the misshapen outline of the quarries a fringe of fire kept blazing and sparkling in a waving sort of curve, just like a ring of gas illuminating on a windy night; the attempt to retake them out of hand was desperately pushed, the russians pouring in musketry, which caused us no small loss, and as it came up the gorge, contending with the fresh wind, sounded in the distance like water gulped simultaneously from a thousand bottles. meanwhile the fall of the mamelon did not by any means bring the combat to an end on the side of our allies. the zouaves, emboldened by their success, carried their prowess too far, and dreamt of getting into the round tower by a _coup de main_. a new crop of battle grew up over all the intervening hollow between it and the mamelon, and the ripple of musket shots plashed and leaped over the broad hill-side. the combatants were not enough for victory there too, but they were enough for a sanguinary and prolonged contest, a contest to the eye far more violent than that which preceded it. the tower itself, or rather the inglorious stump of what was once the round tower, took and gave shot and shell and musketry with the most savage ardour and rapidity. the fire of its musketry was like one sheet of flame, rolling backwards and forwards with a dancing movement, and, dwarfed as it was by the distance, and seen by us in profile, could scarcely be compared to anything, small or large, except the notes of a piano flashed into fire throughout some rapid tune. our gunners, observing the duration and aim of the skirmish, redoubled their exertions, and pitched their shells into the round tower with admirable precision, doing immense mischief to the defenders. it was dark, and every one of them came out against the heavens as it rose or swooped. from gordon's battery and the second parallel they streamed and plunged one after another into the enceinte up to which the zouaves had won their way unsupported, heralded every now and then by the prompt and decisive ring of a round shot. the russian defence, rather than their defences, crumbled away before this tremendous fire, but, on the other hand, the attack not being fed, as it was not designed, began to languish, and died gradually away. during the night repeated attacks, six in all, were made upon our men in the quarries, who defended their new acquisition with the utmost courage and pertinacity, and at a great sacrifice of life, against superior numbers, continually replenished. the strength of the party told off for the attack was in all only , , of whom were in support. at the commencement only went in, and another followed. more than once there was a fierce hand-to-hand fight in the position itself, and our fellows had frequently to dash out in front and take their assailants in flank. the most murderous sortie of the enemy took place about three in the morning; then the whole ravine was lighted up with a blaze of fire, and a storm of shot was thrown in from the strand battery, and every other spot within range. with a larger body in reserve, it was not doubtful that our men could have been into the redan. this was asserted freely both by officers and privates, and the latter expressed their opinion in no complimentary manner. they were near enough up to it to see that it was scarcely defended, and one officer lost his life almost within its limits. on our side rank and file, and officers, had been killed and wounded. our loss in officers killed was great. the th were the severest sufferers, having three officers killed, one missing and conjectured to be killed, and four wounded--all indeed who were engaged. the four senior officers of the nd were put _hors de combat_. on the french side nearly double the number of officers, and a total of not less than , men, probably more. it was stated as high as , . when morning dawned, with the wind blowing even stronger than the day before, the position held by both parties was one of expectation. the french were in great force within and on the outer slopes of the mamelon, and also in possession of two out of the three offsets attached to the mamelon on the sapoune-hill. their dead were seen lying mixed with russians upon the broken ground outside the malakoff tower, and were being carried up to camp in no slack succession. in the rear of the mamelon their efforts to intrench themselves were occasionally interrupted by shells from the ships in the harbour, and from a battery not previously known to exist further down the hill, while, on their left front, the round tower, showing still its formidable platforms of defence and its ragged embrasures above, fired upon their working parties, in the western face, and upon their reserves in the background. the ammunition waggons, the ambulance carts, the french mules, with their panniers full freighted, thronged the ravine below our light division, which is the straight or rather the crooked road down to the attack on the right. troops of wounded men came slowly up, some english, the greater portion french, begrimed with the soil of battle. on the left a party of zouaves had stopped a while to rest their burden, it being the dead bodies of three of their officers. a little lower an english soldier was down on the grass exhausted and well nigh unconscious from some sudden seizure. a party of french were gathered round him, supporting him on the bank, and offering water from their canteens, which he wildly motioned aside. on the right, lining a deep bay in the gorge, was dotted over half a mile of ground a french reserve, with their muskets piled, attending the signal to move forward. they were partially within view of the malakoff, and the round shot and shell came plumping down in the hollow, producing every minute or so little commotions of the _sauve qui peut_ order, replaced the next moment by the accustomed nonchalance, and the crack of stale charges, fired off by way of precaution. [sidenote: an unexpected petition.] a lively and even pretty vivandière came striding up the ascent, without a symptom of acknowledgment to the racing masses of iron, and smiling as if the honour of her corps had been properly maintained. at ten o'clock the little incidents of the halting war perceptible through the telescope from the crown of the hill below the picket-house were these:--at the head of the harbour the russians were busily engaged burying their dead; outside the abattis of the round tower several corpses of zouaves were to be distinguished; about the mamelon the french troops were hard at work, some of them stripped for coolness to their drawers, and were seen creeping down the declivity on the side towards the malakoff, and making themselves a deep shelter from its fire. our people, meanwhile, on the right attack were calmly shelling the malakoff in a cool matter-of-business sort of way, but the eternal gun on its right, which has been endowed with nine months of strange vitality, launched an indirect response into the mamelon. from and after eleven o'clock the russians, as usual, slackened fire, nor was there any duel of artillery on a great scale until after dark. on the th a white flag from the round tower and another on the left announced that the russians had a petition to make. it was a grave one to make in the middle of a fierce bombardment with events hanging in the balance, and success, perhaps, depending upon the passing moments; but made it was, and granted. from one o'clock until six in the evening no shot was fired on either side, while the dead bodies which strewed the hill between the mamelon and the round tower, or remained in front of the quarries, were removed from the field. both of the french and of the russians large numbers were scattered over the ground of the chief conflict; among the former a large proportion were swarthy _indigenes_ of arab blood, or, as they were popularly termed by the french soldiers, turcos, and to their contingent of the killed some were added from the very inside of the malakoff, showing how near the impromptu attack was delivering the place into our hands. of the russians there lay still upon the spot some , a sufficient testimony to the severity of their losses in the struggle. the third battery on the sapoune-hill was abandoned the night before, and its guns either withdrawn or tumbled down the hill. in the early part of the day there had been a popular impulse to believe that an end of the affair would be made at night by a combined assault upon the malakoff and the redan. that both were within scope of capture was considered in camp as proved to demonstration. but the news of the suspension of arms dissipated the hope, and when the divisions got their orders for the night, it was no longer thought that aggression was likely, though defence might be. the enemy, with their wonted perseverance, had been making very comfortable use of their time, and when the firing recommenced, which it did instantly on the flags being lowered, a few minutes before six o'clock, it was plain that the malakoff and redan had both received a reinforcement of guns. six and eleven were the numbers of remounted _bouches de feu_--exactness in such a calculation was not easy, for the russians were laboriously artful in disguising the strength of their artillery, and frequently by moving guns from one embrasure to another make a single one play dummy for two or three. from six until nine o'clock the duel continued without special incidents; then there came a sudden splash of musketry, which lasted some few minutes and died away as unexpectedly. another trifling musketry diversion took place about three in the morning, to relieve the monotony of the great artillery, which kept up its savagery throughout the night--ten guns for one of the enemy's--but slacked a little towards morning. we had a great number of casualties during the night in our new position on the left, into which the russians kept firing grape and canister from the batteries which protect the rear of the redan. they also occupied the dismantled houses above the ravine, and leisurely took shot at our people from the windows. not unnaturally, it was a subject of the bitterest anger and complaint among the soldiers that they had to stand still and be riddled, losing day by day a number which was swollen in a week to the dimensions of a battle-roll of killed and wounded. through the occupation and arming of the white batteries, situated on the edge of the ridge of mount sapoune, the head of the harbour was more or less in our power. the russians themselves seemed to acknowledge this by taking outside the boom the vessels which had before been lying in that direction, and would have been commanded from the works which the french were then constructing on the site of the white batteries of the russians. but this was not all. these new works were to act against the two strand batteries which the russians had behind the mamelon, and which, not being much commanded by any of our works, could do a good deal of harm without being exposed to much danger. the construction of french works on the mamelon brought us to about yards from the malakoff works; it gave us a footing on the plateau on which these works lie; it furnished us with the means of approaching the rear of them, and at the same time of operating successfully on the annoying batteries in the rear of the mamelon, which, taken thus in a cross fire, could not long resist. the quarry was scarcely more than yards from the redan. the battery which it contained worked successfully on the six-gun battery in the rear between the redan and the malakoff tower works; and from the advanced posts our riflemen were able to prevent a good number of the guns in the redan from working. but, for all this, the keeping of the quarry was, especially in the beginning, not at all an easy thing; not so much, perhaps, from the attempts of the russians to retake a point of such vital importance to them, but rather on account of the fire to which it was exposed from other russian batteries besides the redan. the garden battery on our flank, the six-gun battery in the rear, and the malakoff works could touch it on nearly all sides. moreover, the work, when it was taken being directed against us, offered very little protection against the riflemen of the redan, until its face could be converted. [sidenote: change of plan of operations.] the french in the mamelon had to maintain themselves under a not less heavy fire than the english in the quarries. some parts of the malakoff works, the shipping, the strand batteries behind, and even some of the inkerman batteries, could bear upon them, and they suffered considerable loss in the first days after their instalment there. night attacks were commenced by the fleets; on the th the _tribune_, _highflier_, _terrible_, _miranda_, _niger_, _arrow_, _viper_, _snake_, and _weser_, stood in at night, and opened a heavy fire upon the town, in company with some french steamers, whilst the _danube_ and the launches of the _royal albert_ fired rockets into the place. on the th, the _sidon_, _highflier_, _miranda_, _viper_, _snake_, and _princess royal_ ran in again, but the enemy had got their range, and hulled some of the ships repeatedly; and we had to mourn the loss of captain lyons of the _miranda_, who was wounded by a piece of shell, of which he died soon afterwards, at the hospital of therapia. on the th of june it was decided at a council of war that, after three hours' cannonade from the whole of the allied batteries, the assault should take place on the morning of the th of june. our armament consisted of thirty -inch mortars, twenty-four -inch mortars, seven -inch mortars, forty-nine -pounders, forty-six -inch guns, eight -inch guns, eight -pounders: total, one hundred and sixty-six guns. the french had about two hundred and eighty _bouches-à-feu_. the despatch of lord raglan, dated th june, states that it was decided that the fire should be kept up for two hours after dawn; but, on the evening of the th, marshal pelissier sent over a despatch to our head-quarters, to the effect that, as the french infantry could not be placed in the trenches in the morning without the enemy seeing them, he had decided on attacking the place at daybreak, without any preliminary cannonade in the morning. lord raglan accepted this change of the plan of attack, although it was opposed to his private judgment, and sent orders to the divisional generals to carry it out. sir george brown, who was understood to be of opinion that an assault against the redan was very doubtful, was ordered to make the arrangements. the assaulting force, which consisted of detachments of the light, second, and third divisions, was divided into three columns. sir john campbell had charge of the left, colonel shadforth, of the th regiment, of the right, and colonel lacy yea, of the th fusileers, of the centre column. brigadier (afterwards sir henry) barnard was directed to take his brigade of the third division down the woronzoff ravine, whilst major-general eyre moved down his brigade of the same division still further to the left, with orders to threaten the works on the proper right of the redan and in front of the dockyard creek, and, in case of the assault being successful, to convert the demonstration of his brigade into a serious attack on the place. the right column was destined to attack the left face of the redan between the flanks of the batteries; the centre column was to assault the salient of the redan; and the left column was to assault the re-entering angle formed by the right face and flank of the work; the centre column was not to advance till the other columns had well developed their attack. on the french left, assaults under general de salles were to be directed against the quarantine bastion, the central bastion, and the bastion du mât, each by a division , strong. on the french right, general d'autemarre, with a column of , men, was to assault the gervais battery and the right flank of the malakoff; general brunet, with a similar force, from the mamelon, was to attack the left flank of the malakoff and the little redan; general mayran, from the extreme of the french right, was to fall upon the russian batteries near careening creek, and the works connecting no. bastion with the little redan. in order to give greater completeness to the arrangements, it was decided that the french should make a demonstration against the mackenzie heights; and general bosquet, who commanded the second corps d'armée, because it was known that he was unfavourable to an assault, and preferred operations in the field, was displaced from his command by general regnault de st. jean d'angely. it will thus be seen that the french were to assault in six columns, constituting a force of not less than , men, with reserves of , . our assaulting columns were only , men, although there was a force in reserve of nearly , men. the fire which opened on sunday morning (the th) was marked by great energy and destructiveness. in the first relief the quarry battery, commanded by major strange, threw no less than -inch shells into the redan, which was only yards distant. throughout sunday , rounds, and on the following day , rounds of shot and shell were fired against sebastopol from the british lines. [sidenote: a fatal advance.] early on monday morning ( th of june), the troops, who had been under arms soon after midnight, moved down to the trenches. lord raglan and his staff were stationed in the trench in rear of the quarries battery. marshal pelissier took up his post in a battery to the rear of the mamelon and on our right front, a considerable way from lord raglan. just as some faint tinge of light in the east announced the approach of dawn, we heard a very irregular but sharp fire of musketry on our right, close to the malakoff. in an instant all the russian works on the right woke up into life, and the roar of artillery, mingled with musketry, became incessant. the column under general mayran had made a premature attack! a rocket fired unintentionally misled the french general, who fell mortally wounded. in a few minutes the column was driven back with great loss. the musketry ceased. then three rockets flew up into the gloomy sky. this was the signal for the assault, which mayran had anticipated with such unfortunate results. general d'autemarre's column, at the double, made a dash up the ravine which separated the redan from the malakoff. general brunet led his men to attack the left of the work. the russians received them with a tremendous fire, for the grey dawn just gave light sufficient to indicate the advance of these large masses. general brunet fell dead, and his column was obliged to retreat, with great loss. the other column on the right of the malakoff was somewhat more fortunate. they dashed across the ditch and over the parapet of the gervais battery, and drove the enemy before them. some few get into the malakoff itself; certainly, unless my eyes deceived me, i saw a tricolor flag waving in the centre of the work, and a few french actually reached the dockyard wall. although it was understood that the english were not to attack until the french had carried the malakoff, lord raglan resolved to assist the french at this stage of the assault, and the two rockets which was the signal for the advance were sent up. at the moment, the french were fighting outside the malakoff, but were in possession of the gervais battery on the right flank. brunet's column had been driven back. a second attack on the extreme right by mayran's column, though aided by , of the imperial guard under general mellinet, had completely failed. the russians, warned by the assault on their left, were prepared; in the redan, they held a great force in reserve. their guns, loaded with grape, were manned, and the parapets were thickly lined with infantry. the party to assault the left face of the redan consisted of officers and men of the th regiment, under major gwilt, preceded by a covering party of the rifle brigade and a ladder party from the sailors' brigade. when the signal was given, the men carrying the ladders and wool-bags rushed out of the trench; they were swept down at once by the tremendous fire. major gwilt ordered the th to lie down; but on the extreme right the men who did not receive the order advanced in sections at the double, and the whole of the storming party made a run at the re-entering angle of the left face of the redan. on crossing the trench, our men, instead of coming upon the open in a firm body, were broken into twos and threes. this arose from the want of a temporary step above the berm, which would have enabled the troops to cross the parapet with regularity; instead of which they had to scramble over it as well as they could; and, as the top of the trench was of unequal height and form, their line was quite broken. the moment they came out from the trench the enemy began to direct on their whole front a deliberate and well-aimed _mitraille_, which increased the want of order and unsteadiness caused by the mode of their advance. yea saw the consequences. having in vain tried to obviate the evil caused by the broken formation and confusion of his men, who were falling fast around him, he exclaimed, "this will never do! where's the bugler to call them back?" but, at that critical moment, no bugler was to be found. the gallant officer, by voice and gesture, tried to form and compose his men, but the thunder of the enemy's guns close at hand and the gloom frustrated his efforts; and as he rushed along the troubled mass of troops, endeavouring to get them into order for a rush at the batteries, a charge of their deadly missiles passed, and the noble soldier fell dead in advance of his men, struck at once in head and stomach by grape shot. a fine young officer, hobson, the adjutant of the th, fell along with his chief, mortally wounded. they were thrown into confusion on getting up to the abattis, by finding a formidable barrier before them. when the th came up, there was only _one_ ladder at the abattis.[ ] major gwilt, who was about sixty yards from the abattis, was soon severely wounded and obliged to retire. colonel lysons, who now took the command, ordered the men to retire. but ere the th regained the trenches, captain shiffner, captain robinson, and lieutenant hurt, were killed; captain jordan, major gwilt, lieutenant harman, lieutenant clayton, and lieutenant alt, were severely wounded, the last two dying of their injuries. the column on the left told off for the attack of the re-entering angle and flank of the right of the redan, was exposed to the same fire. there were no scaling ladders at the abattis, much less at the ditch of the redan, nor could the rifles keep down the enemy's artillery. colonel shadforth was killed whilst leading on his men most gallantly. sir john campbell fell dead close to the abattis. in a few moments the assaulting columns had disappeared. on our extreme left, the brigade under major-general eyre, consisting of the th on the left of the line, of the th regiment and th regiment in reserve, the th regiment and th regiment on the right, advanced to threaten the dockyard creek and the barrack batteries. four volunteers from each company, under major fielden, of the th regiment, covered the advance. the brigade was turned out before dawn, and marched down the road on the left of the greenhill battery to the cemetery, while the necessary dispositions were being made for the attack. general eyre, addressing the th, said, "i hope, my men, that this morning you will do something that will make every cabin in ireland ring again!" the reply was a loud cheer, which instantly drew a shower of grape. just as the general attack began, they rushed at the cemetery, which was very feebly defended; but the moment the enemy retreated their batteries opened a heavy fire upon it from the left of the redan and from the barrack battery. they also kept up a heavy fire of musketry from a suburb close to the dockyard creek, by the side of the woronzoff road, and from a number of houses at the other side of the creek, below the barrack battery. the th charged and carried the houses. the russians could not depress their guns sufficiently to fire down upon our men; they directed a severe flanking fire upon them from an angle of the redan. the th made a dash at the houses under the barrack battery, and the th seized hold of the suburb over the creek battery, so that the russians were obliged to abandon it. while portions of the th, th, th and th were in the houses, the th kept up a hot fire from the cemetery on the russians in the battery. one part of the brigade was exposed to a destructive fire in houses, the upper portion of which crumbled into pieces or fell in, and it was only by keeping in the lower stories, which were vaulted, that they were enabled to hold their own. the rest of the brigade, far advanced from our batteries, were almost unprotected, and were under a constant _mitraille_ and bombardment from guns which our batteries failed to touch. [sidenote: defective preparations for the assault.] a sergeant and a handful of men actually got possession of a small work, in which there were twelve or fourteen artillerymen; but the russians, seeing that they were alone, came down upon them and drove them out. an officer and half-a-dozen men got up close to the flagstaff battery, and were advancing into it when they saw that they were by themselves, and retreated. about fifteen french soldiers on their left aided them, but they were unsupported and they all had to retire. another officer with twelve men took one of the russian rifle-pits, and held possession of it throughout the day. this partial success, however, did not change the fortunes of the day. the french were driven out of the gervais' battery because they received no reinforcements, though not till they had held it for upwards of forty minutes. marshal pelissier made proposals to lord raglan to renew the assault. lord raglan, though agreeing with the french general in the practicability of a renewed assault, was of opinion that it ought not to be attempted till a heavy bombardment had been continued for some hours. as there was a considerable distance between them, lord raglan had to ride over to marshal pelissier, to confer with him on the arrangements for the proposed assault. during the interval, the french, who were suffering heavily from the enemy's fire, became dispirited by their losses and by the inaction which followed the check they had sustained. the russians were evidently in great force at the malakoff; and general d'autemarre was so convinced that the assault would not succeed, that he sent a pressing message to marshal pelissier to beg that he would not expose the men in a fruitless assault. marshal pelissier was obliged to yield to such an expression of opinion, and, lord raglan coinciding with him, the renewal of the assault did not take place. although the attack upon the redan had been discussed at a council of war, and the engineer officers of both our attacks (colonel chapman and colonel gordon) had been called upon to assist the generals with their advice, the result proved that the arrangements were defective and inadequate. our officers were outwitted by the subtlety of the russians, who had for some time masked their guns, or withdrawn them from the embrasures, as if they were overpowered and silenced by our fire. no more decisive proof of the inefficiency of our force could be afforded than this fact--that in no case did the troops destined to assault and carry the redan reach the outer part of the work; that no ladders were placed in the ditch; and that a very small portion indeed of the storming party reached the abattis, which was placed many yards in front of the ditch of the redan. it cannot be said that on this occasion our men exhibited any want of courage; but so abortive and so weak was the attack, that the russians actually got outside the parapet of the redan, jeered and laughed at our soldiers as they fired upon them at the abattis, and mockingly invited the "inglisky" to come nearer. a few dilettanti have since started a theory, which has not even ingenuity to recommend it, and which, if well founded, would convey the weightiest accusation ever yet made against our commanders--and that is, that our assault against the redan was never meant to be successful, and that it was, in fact, a mere diversion, to assist the french in getting into the malakoff. to any one acquainted with the facts, or to those who were present, this theory must appear, not only _not ingenious_, but ludicrous and contemptible. indeed, the truth is, that an assault was not merely intended to be successful, but that it was looked upon as certain to succeed. no one hinted a doubt of the carrying of the redan, though there was a general expression of opinion, among those who knew the case, that the force detailed for the storm was perilously small, and some few, as i heard, also found fault with the position of the reserves, and thought they were placed too far in the rear to be of service in case of a check. our losses were severe, and they were not alleviated by the consolations of victory. no less than officers and men were killed, officers and , men were wounded. the french lost officers killed and wounded; , rank and file killed or taken prisoners, and about the same number wounded--so that the loss of the allies, on the th of june, amounted to nearly , officers and men. the russians admitted a loss of , ; but it is remarkable in their return that the proportion of their officers killed is very much less than ours. in our army one officer was killed to every eleven men--one was wounded to every fifteen. in the french army one officer was killed to thirty men, and one was wounded to every sixteen men. in the russian army the proportion of killed was about one officer to forty-nine men--of wounded, one officer to thirty-one men. general jones was wounded over the trench. general eyre was disabled by a severe cut on the head, but kept with his men till they were established in the cemetery. [sidenote: harrowing scenes.] the detachments from the naval brigade consisted of four parties of sixty men each, one for each column, but only two of them went out, the other two being kept in reserve; they were told off to carry scaling-ladders and wool-bags, and to place them for our storming parties. captain peel, who commanded, was wounded. his aide-de-camp, lieutenant wood, midshipman of h.m.s. _queen_, though badly wounded, got up to the abattis, and rendered himself so conspicuous for a gallantry of which he had given several proofs on previous occasions, that lord hardinge presented him with a commission of the th light dragoons on his expressing a desire to exchange into the army. in no. party, lieutenants urmston, dalyell, and parsons, were wounded. in no. , lieutenant cave was wounded, and lieutenant kidd killed. no. and no. party did not advance, and lost no officer. when the men retreated, overwhelmed by the storm from the enemy's battery, several officers and men were left behind wounded. lieutenant kidd got into the trench all safe, and was receiving the congratulations of a brother officer, when he saw a wounded soldier lying out in the open. he at once exclaimed--"we must go and save him!" and leaped over the parapet in order to do so. he had scarcely gone a yard when he was shot through the breast, and died an hour after. a private soldier of the rd, a native of cork, named richard worrell, displayed the most touching devotion on the same occasion. when the regiment returned to the trenches it was discovered that a young officer named heyland was missing. the enemy's guns were sweeping the front of the trenches. worrell did not hesitate for a moment. "i'll go out," said he, "and bring him in if he's wounded, or die beside him." he kept his word. his body was found pierced with balls, close to that of his officer. all the advantage we gained was the capture of the cemetery, and the small mamelon near it. the french sent over an engineer to examine the ground, and as that officer expressed an opinion that it was desirable to hold the place with a view to ulterior defensive works being erected upon it, general eyre was assured that a strong body of men would be marched into it at night. as these troops never arrived, colonel adams retired from the cemetery at night, leaving only a picket, which was also withdrawn in compliance with the instructions general eyre received from head-quarters, which were to the effect that if the french did not occupy the work our troops were to withdraw. on the following morning, lieutenant donnelly of the engineers heard that the position for which we had paid so dearly was not in our possession. he appreciated its value--he saw that the russians had not yet advanced to reoccupy it, begged and borrowed some thirty men, with whom he crept into the cemetery. as soon as the armistice began, the russians flocked down to the cemetery, which they supposed to be undefended, but to their great surprise they found our men posted there, and in the evening the party was strengthened, and the allies constructed most valuable works and batteries there. the natural consequence, in civilized warfare, of such a contest as that recorded above, is an armistice to bury the dead. it was our sad duty to demand it next day, for our dead lay outside our lines, and there were no russian corpses in front of the redan or malakoff. we hoisted a white flag in the forenoon, but there was no such emblem of a temporary peace displayed by the russians. officers and soldiers eager to find the bodies of their comrades, waited patiently and sadly for the moment when friendship's last melancholy office could be performed. at last it became known that the armistice was to take place at four o'clock in the afternoon. it was agonizing to see the wounded men lying under a broiling sun, parched with excruciating thirst, racked with fever, and agonized with pain--to behold them waving their caps faintly, or making signals towards our lines, over which they could see the white flag waving. they lay where they fell, or had scrambled into the holes formed by shells; and there they had been for thirty hours! how long and how dreadful in their weariness! a soldier who was close to the abattis saw a few men come out of an embrasure, and fearing he should be unnoticed, raised his cap on a stick and waved it till he fell back exhausted. again he rose, and managed to tear off his shirt, which he agitated in the air till his strength failed him. his face could be seen through a glass; and my friend, who watched him, said he could never forget the expression of despair with which the poor fellow folded his shirt under his head to await the mercy of heaven. the red-coats lay thick over the broken ground in front of the abattis of the redan. blue and grey coats lay in piles in the raincourses before the malakoff. i rode down with some companions past the old -inch mortar battery in advance of our picket-house into the middle picket ravine, at the end of which began the french approaches to their old parallel, which was extended up to their recent conquest, the mamelon. a body of light cavalry moved down the woronzoff road a little later, and began extending their files right and left in a complete line across the whole of our front, with the object of preventing any, except those who were on duty, getting down to the neutral ground. however, my companions and myself got down into the ravine before the cavalry halted just behind the picket-house. this ravine was paved with shot and shell. the earth gleamed here and there with bullets and fragments of lead. in one place there was a french picket posted in a bend of the ravine, sleeping under their greatcoats, raised on twigs, to protect them from the sun, smoking or talking gravely. yes, for a wonder, the men were grave and looked almost sullen; but they were thinking of the comrades whose bodies they would have to inter. by the side of this ravine--your horse must needs tread upon them, if you were not careful in guiding him--was many a mound, some marking the resting-place of individual soldiers, others piled over one of those deep pits where rank and file reposed in their common glory. in the ravine were mules with litters, ambulances, and land transport corps. english and french were mixed together. i saw in one place two of our men, apart from the rest, with melancholy faces. "what are you waiting here for?" said i. "to go out for the colonel, sir," was the reply. "what colonel?" "why, colonel yea, to be sure, sir," said the good fellow, who was evidently surprised at my thinking there could be any other colonel in the world. and indeed the light division felt his loss. under brusqueness of manner he concealed a kind heart. a more thorough soldier, one more devoted to his men, to the service, and to his country, never fell in battle than lacy yea. throughout the winter his attention to his regiment was exemplary. his men were the first who had hospital huts. when other regiments were in need of every comfort, and almost of every necessary, the fusileers, by the care of their colonel, had everything that could be procured by exertion and foresight. writing of him, and of similar cases, i said, "at inkerman his gallantry was conspicuous. he and colonel egerton are now gone, and there remains in the light division but one other officer of the same rank who stands in the same case as they did. is there nothing to be done? no recognition of their services? no decorations? no order of merit?"[ ] two french soldiers approached, with an english naval officer, whom they were taking off as a spy. he told us he was an officer of the _viper_, that he walked up to see some friends in the naval brigade, got into the mamelon, and was taken prisoner. the frenchmen pointed out that the naval brigade was not employed on the mamelon, that spies were abundant and clever; but they were at last satisfied, and let their captive go with the best grace in the world. we were close to the mamelon, and the frequent reports of rifles and the pinging of the balls proved that the flag of truce had not been hoisted by the enemy. we were in the zigzag, a ditch about six feet broad and six feet deep, with the earth knocked about by shot at the sides, and we met frenchmen laden with water canteens or carrying large tin cans full of coffee, and tins of meat and soup, cooked in the ravine close at hand, up to the mamelon. [sidenote: interior of the mamelon.] i entered along with them. the parapets were high inside the work, and were of a prodigious thickness. it was evident the mamelon was overdone. it was filled with traverses and excavations, so that it was impossible to put a large body of men into it, or to get them in order in case of an assault. the stench from the dead, who had been buried as they fell, was fearful; and bones, and arms, and legs stuck out from the piles of rubbish on which you were treading. many guns were also buried, but they did not decompose. outside were plenty of those fougasses, which the russians planted thickly. a strong case containing powder was sunk in the ground, and to it was attached a thin tube of tin or lead, several feet in length; in the upper end of the tube was enclosed a thin glass tube containing sulphuric or nitric acid. this portion of the tube was just laid above the earth, where it could be readily hid by a few blades of grass or a stone. if a person stepped upon it he bent the tin tube and broke the glass tube inside. the acid immediately escaped down the tin tube till it met a few grains of chlorate of potash. the mine exploded, and not only destroyed everything near it, but threw out a quantity of bitumen, with which it was coated, in a state of ignition. i very nearly had a practical experience of the working of these mines, for an english sentry, who kindly warned me off, did not indicate the exact direction till he found he was in danger of my firing it, when he became very communicative upon the subject. they made it disagreeable walking in the space between the works. i turned into the second english parallel on my left, where it joined the left of the french right. what a network of zigzags, and parallels, and traverses! you could see how easy it was for men to be confused at night--how easy to mistake. i walked out of the trench of the quarries under the redan, in which we had then established a heavy battery, at the distance of yards from the enemy's embrasures. the ground sloped down for some few hundred yards, and then rose again to the redan. it was covered with long rank grass and weeds, large stones, tumuli, and holes ranging in depth from three feet and a half or four feet, to a foot, and in diameter from five feet to seven or eight feet, where shells had exploded. it is impossible to give a notion of the manner in which the earth was scarred by explosions, and shot. the grass was seamed in all directions, as if ploughs, large and small, had been constantly drawn over it. the litter-bearers were busy. most of our dead were close to the abaths of the redan, and many, no doubt, had been dragged up to it at night for plunder's sake. colonel yea's body was found near the abattis on the right of the redan. his head was greatly swollen, and his features, and a fine manly face it had been, were nearly undistinguishable. colonel shadforth's remains were discovered in a similar state. sir john campbell lay close up to the abattis. it was but the very evening before his death that i saw him standing within a few feet of his own grave. he had come to the ground in order to attend the funeral of captain vaughan, an officer of his own regiment (the th), who died of wounds received two days previously in the trenches, and he laughingly invited me to come and lunch with him next day at the clubhouse of sebastopol. his sword and boots were taken, but the former was subsequently restored by a russian officer. the body was interred on cathcart's hill--his favourite resort, where every one was sure of a kind word and a cheerful saying from the gallant brigadier. the bodies of many a brave officer whom i had known in old times--old times of the war, for men's lives were short in the crimea, and the events of a life were compressed into a few hours--were borne past us in silence, and now and then men with severe wounds were found still living. the spirit of some of these noble fellows triumphed over all their bodily agonies. "general!" exclaimed a sergeant of the th royal irish to brigadier eyre, as he came near the place in the cemetery where the poor fellow lay with both his legs broken by a round shot, "thank god, _we_ did _our_ work, any way. had i another pair of legs, the country and you would be welcome to them!" many men in hospital, after losing leg or arm, said they "would not have cared if they had only beaten the russians." the wounded lay in holes made by shells, and were fired at by the russian riflemen when they rolled about. our men report that the enemy treated them kindly, and even brought them water out of the embrasures. they pulled all the bodies of officers within reach up to the abattis, and took off their epaulettes and boots, but did not strip them. a line of sentries was formed by the russians so far in front of the abattis, that general airey was obliged to remonstrate with an aide-de-camp of general osten-sacken, who ordered them to retire. these men were remarkably fine, tall, muscular fellows, and one could not but contrast them with the poor weakly-looking boys in our regiments, or with the undergrown men of the french line. they were in clean new uniforms. many of them wore medals. their officers turned out with white kid gloves and patent leather boots. one stout elderly russian of rank asked one of our officers, "how are you off for food?" "oh! we get everything we want; our fleet secures that." "yes," remarked the russian, with a knowing wink, "yes; but there's one thing you're not so well off for, and that your fleet can't supply you with, and that's sleep." [sidenote: opposite opinions.] "we're at least as well off for that as you are," was the rejoinder. another officer asked if we really thought, after our experience of the defence they could make, that we could take sebastopol. "we must; france and england are determined to take it." "ah! well," said the other, "russia is determined france and england shall not have it; and we'll see who has the strongest will, and can lose most men." in the midst of these brief interviews, beginning and ending with bows and salutes, and inaugurated by the concession of favours relating to cigars and lights, the soldiers bore dead bodies by, consigning the privates to the burial-grounds near the trenches, and carrying off the wounded and the bodies of the officers to the camp. the armistice lasted for upwards of two hours. chapter ii. effects of failure of assault on health--general order of lord raglan--death of lord raglan--his character--orders of general simpson, successor to lord raglan--personal qualifications of general simpson to command the army--confirmation as commander-in-chief by the queen--other appointments. immediately after the failure of the assault, sir george brown, generals pennefather, codrington, buller, and estcourt, were obliged to take to their beds, to seek change of air, or to sail for england. lord raglan was affected. it was observed by his staff that the failure had "affected his health;" and an officer, writing home to his friends, on the rd of june, remarked, "he (lord raglan) looks far from well, and has grown very much aged latterly." general estcourt, adjutant-general of the army, died on the morning of the th of june, after three days' illness. on the th lord raglan published the following order:-- "the field-marshal has the satisfaction of publishing to the army the following extract from a telegraphic despatch from lord panmure, dated the nd of june. "'i have her majesty's commands to express her grief that so much bravery should not have been rewarded with merited success, and to assure her brave troops that her majesty's confidence in them is entire.'" within a very few hours after the appearance of this order, the electric telegraph brought the startling intelligence to the head-quarters of the various divisions that the field-marshal was dead. on tuesday evening, after his usual devotion to the desk, he was seized with symptoms of a choleraic character, and took to his bed, where he died on the night of the following thursday. lord raglan possessed qualities which, if not those of a great general, were calculated to obtain for the english army more consideration than that to which it was entitled by its numerical strength. although he was frequently obliged to give way to their councils, in opposition to his declared convictions, his calmness in the field--his dignity of manner--his imperturbable equanimity--exercised their legitimate influence over the generals of the french army. that lord raglan was an accomplished gentleman, as brave a soldier as ever drew a sword, an amiable, honourable man, zealous for the public service, of the most unswerving truth, devoted to his duty and to his profession, cannot be denied; but he appears to me to have been a man of strong prejudices and of weak resolution, cold to those whom, like omar pasha, he considered "vulgar," coerced without difficulty by the influence of a stronger will, and apt to depend upon those around him where he should have used his own eyes. there was something of the old heroic type in his character, which would have compensated for even graver defects, if their results had not been, in many instances, so unfortunate for our arms; his death on a foreign soil whilst in command of an english army touched the hearts of his countrymen. the following general orders were issued next day:-- "head-quarters before sebastopol, _june _. "no. . it becomes my most painful duty to announce to the army the death of its beloved commander, field-marshal lord raglan, g.c.b., which melancholy event took place last night about nine o'clock. "no. . in the absence of lieutenant-general sir george brown, the command of the troops devolves on me, as the next senior officer present, until further orders are received from england. "no. . generals of divisions and heads of departments will be pleased to conduct their respective duties as heretofore. "j. simpson, lieutenant-general." [sidenote: queen appoints general simpson commander-in-chief.] general simpson was destitute of those acquirements and personal characteristics which in lord raglan compensated for a certain apathy and marble calmness. he was a veteran who had seen a year's service in the peninsula in - , and in the campaign of , and who thirty years afterwards held the post of quartermaster-general to sir c. napier, in his indian war of . lord raglan had, at all events, by the dignity of his personal character, secured a position for the troops he commanded to which they were not numerically entitled; but no one can say by what sacrifices that position was maintained till the battle of inkerman forced us to abandon it. it was believed at the time, and it is now notorious, that general simpson opposed his own appointment, and bore testimony to his own incapacity; but the government--or lord hardinge and lord panmure--insisted, and general simpson became commander-in-chief of the british army. writing at the time respecting our future general i said:-- "rumours prevail that a new commander-in-chief is to come out from england. whether this be true i have not yet learnt, but it is to be hoped that the peninsula and waterloo, at twenty-three or twenty-four years of age, will not be the only qualification. it seems to all here that the best school for sebastopol is sebastopol itself, and that a man who has been six months in the crimea is more likely to be an efficient general than any one who may be sent out in reliance upon vague reminiscences of campaigns in the field forty years ago. it takes some little time to gain an acquaintance even with the ground, and as autumn is drawing on there is no need for delay. the only reason that can be conceived for sending out a general from england is that some man of european reputation may be appointed, who may give a _status_ to the british army beyond what its present numbers are calculated to obtain for it in the eyes of the world. there is no doubt that lord raglan did this. his rank, his high character, his manners, his superiority to petty jealousies, and his abstinence from petty intrigues, commanded the respect of even those who were disposed to question his capacity and energy. if this war be prosecuted for any length of time, and england is not prepared to embark more fully in the struggle with men as well as money, there is some danger that the british army will be looked upon as a mere contingent. a general of established reputation may add a lustre to the british name, but, after all, the best reliance is upon skill and energy, and there are many men at present before sebastopol upon whom the command might devolve with satisfaction to the army, and with a reasonable hope of a creditable performance of the duties of the post." on the st of july, general simpson published the following order:-- "general simpson announces to the army that he has had the honour to receive from her majesty the queen the appointment of commander-in-chief of the army in the crimea. "the lieutenant-general, though deeply impressed with the responsibility of the position in which he is placed, is most proud of the high and distinguished honour, and of the confidence thus reposed in him by his sovereign. "it will be the lieutenant-general's duty to endeavour to follow in the steps of his great predecessor, and he feels confident of the support of the generals, and of the officers and soldiers, in maintaining unimpaired the honour and discipline of this noble army. (signed) "james simpson, "lieutenant-general commanding." the personal staff of his excellency consisted of captain colville, rifle brigade; captain lindsay, scots fusileer guards; major dowbiggen, th foot (appointed by electric telegraph). lieut.-colonel stephenson was appointed military secretary, although colonel steele remained at head-quarters; and colonel pakenham was confirmed as adjutant-general, at the request of lord raglan, in the last despatch he ever penned. on the st, captain lushington, who had been promoted to the rank of admiral, was relieved in the command of the naval brigade by captain the hon. h. keppel. commissary-general filder, at the same date, returned home on the recommendation of a medical board. [sidenote: relinquishment of a favourable position.] book vii. efforts to raise the siege--battle of the tchernaya--the second assault--capture of the malakoff--retreat of the russians to the north side. chapter i. survey of the position of the allied armies--renewed preparations of the russians--operations of the allied armies--their defectiveness--renewed defence of the malakoff--strength of our armament--inactivity of the allies, especially the turks--public feeling respecting the non-participation of the latter in the siege operations--gloomy view of the position of the allies--anticipated renewal of hostilities--curious russian letter on the situation--violent storm of wind and rain--continuous supply of russian soldiers--military discipline and composition of piedmontese army--medical board and system of invaliding--desultory russian firing--eager anticipations by our army of a general attack--arrival of british reinforcements--turkish demand for black mail--french malpractices. the time is not yet come for the disclosure of all the truth; but it may even now be asked, how it was that on the th of february, , we abandoned our ground opposite the malakoff to the french, if we really knew it to be the key of the russian position? a change was indeed necessary, and it was evident that the english army was much too weak to occupy the space from the dockyard creek ravine on the left, to the valley of the tchernaya on the right. but why, instead of allowing the french (i use that word "allowing," inasmuch as we are given to understand that sir john burgoyne objected to the change)--why, instead of allowing the french to take from us the favourable ground upon our right attack, did we not move to our right, and leave the french to occupy the spot held by our left, which we maintained to the end of the siege? it seems but natural that as we had defended the right of the allied army at inkerman, with so much loss, and so much courage, we should have continued to occupy a position we had rendered glorious for ever. a cession of it to the french appears to be a tacit reproach. by concentrating our left on our right attack, we could have readily carried on the siege works, and have preserved to ourselves the attack against the malakoff, which was originally opened by us on the th of october, . it was said that the french objected to take chapman's attack, on the plea that they could not serve our artillery. sir john burgoyne then offered that our artillerymen should be left to work the english guns; but the objection, if ever it was made, was futile, inasmuch as at a subsequent period of the siege the french demanded and received the loan of more than twenty-four -pounders, which they used with great vigour at the final bombardment. the compliance of sir john burgoyne upon this point is the more to be wondered at, inasmuch as it was he who discovered the great importance of the position we so readily yielded, and it was he who announced that the malakoff, of which he relinquished the attack to our allies, was the veritable key of the whole of the defences of sebastopol. between the death of lord raglan and the middle of july, no decided progress was made in the siege approaches, and the russians contented themselves with strenuous preparations to meet another assault. but as sickness diminished, and reinforcements and fresh supplies of material were poured into the crimea later in the month, the allies set to work with renewed energy, and not only gained ground before sebastopol, but began to feel their way towards the left of the enemy's position on the belbek. at the same time they extended their operations in the direction of mangoup-kale, and kutchuk sevren, first by way of reconnaissance, and finally by the establishment of standing camps of sufficient strength to defy a sudden attack by any force short of an army. in these operations the french performed the active work. they were aided to some extent by the sardinians encamped at komara, and by the turks, who completed the friendly investment of balaklava from the sardinian right to the cliffs over the sea near cape aiya. [sidenote: seizure of malakoff by the russians.] after the th of june, , it became quite evident that our left attack was utterly useless for the purposes of an assault, and accordingly one would have thought that the whole energy of the chiefs of the british army and of the engineers would have been directed to push on our saps in the direction of the only point of attack the british army had to deal with; but in effect the redan was not approached much more closely by our engineers subsequently to the th than it had been previously, and most of our efforts were directed to the augmentation of the weight and vigour of our fire from batteries already established, or to the strengthening of the quarries battery, which we took on the th of june. in fact, we seemed determined to take the place by the fire of artillery alone; and yet, when the time came we combined with it an assault, which was of course an interference with, and an abandonment of, that determination. although our officers had the mamelon before their eyes, they overlooked the fact that the russians could screen a very large body of men inside their casemates and bomb-proofs, and that the garrison would suffer very little from our fire so long as it failed to search out and destroy those retreats. when the garrison of these casemates was warned, by the cessation of our fire, of the coming assault, they swarmed out in masses more numerous than the assailants, who were besides broken, and almost breathless, owing to their run from the trenches, and repulsed them ere they reached the abattis. whenever the russians felt our energy was overpowering them at any one particular point they withdrew their guns behind the traverse or parapet, and trusted to the strength of their earthworks, so that it was difficult to say what was the exact effect of our cannonade upon their guns. thus, on the th of june, our soldiers were raked with grape and canister from points where we had imagined the guns were dismounted and silenced, and it was evident that our artillery had not gained that mastery over the enemies' pieces which was requisite to ensure success. we subsequently endeavoured to secure a better chance for our troops, at the next assault, by establishing batteries to crush the flanking fire of the angles of the redan, and of the curtains in the direction of the salient; but the tackles broke in raising the guns, and these batteries were never armed. from the attack of the th of june to the th of july, the enemy were employed in strengthening their works; they made such progress at the redan, that it was judged expedient to open a heavy fire upon them. this commenced at five o'clock on the morning of the th of july, and lasted for four hours. several embrasures were destroyed, and the enemy's reply was feeble; but they did not cease from their labours, and we were obliged to reserve our ammunition for general bombardment. the english cavalry, long inactive, began to look forward to service in the field, as hopes were held out that a movement would be made against the russian corps on the upper belbek. on the th july, general barnard was appointed chief of the staff. major-general markham arrived on the th of july, and assumed the command of the second division; but he had materially injured his health by the exertions he made in travelling through india to get to the crimea, and he did not add to the high reputation he had gained in the east. the arrival of sir harry jones to replace sir john burgoyne was regarded with hope, but no change in the plan of attack was originated by that officer, nor did the french engineers at any time appear to appreciate the importance of the ground between them and the malakoff, till the russians significantly demonstrated the value of the mamelon by seizing upon and fortifying it in the spring of the year. sir harry jones, although younger than sir john burgoyne, was not blest with the health of that veteran soldier, and for some time the works were carried on without the benefit of his personal supervision. if the ground in front of our trenches and saps towards the redan was difficult, that through which the french drove their approaches close to the bastion du mât, and notably to the bastion centrale, was literally a mass of oolite and hard rock. our armament, on the th of june, consisted of thirty -inch mortars, seventeen -inch mortars, and eight -inch mortars; of forty-nine -pounders, of forty-six -inch guns, of eight -inch, and eight -pounder guns--an increase of thirty guns and mortars on the armament with which we opened fire on the th june; and , -inch bombs, -inch bombs, , -lb. shot, , -inch shot, , -inch shot, , -pounder shot, were fired into the town, in the bombardment, previous to the assault. still, this weight of metal did not crush the fire of the place, and the enemy were enabled to continue to reply, and to mount fresh guns, owing to the constant command of men from the armies outside the town. the capture of kertch and yenikale, the command of the sea of azoff, the partial possession of the spit of arabat, had not produced the results we expected on the resources of the garrison; they received supplies of men and food by perekop and tchongar--no matter by what exertions or at what sacrifices the communications might be effected. the allies advanced from eupatoria, towards simpheropol, but invariably found the enemy in superior force, in strong positions, except on the single occasion of general d'allonville's brilliant affair with the russian cavalry, under general korte, near sak, which ended in the utter rout of the latter and the loss of a battery of field artillery. the nature of the country, the difficulty of transport, and the distance of the base of operations, have all been pleaded as reasons for the failure of the attempts to advance from eupatoria; but it seems rather strange that no effort was made to march, by either the buljanak or the alma, to the capital of the crimea: the troops of omar pasha, instead of being kept idle at komara or eupatoria, could have been employed with the french and english in making a serious diversion, which would have paralyzed the energies of the enemy, and which might have led to the fall of sebastopol. it was not till the th july that omar pasha, dispirited at the inactivity to which himself and army had been doomed, proposed to general simpson to embark the turks from the crimea, and to land near kutais, in order to relieve kars by menacing a march upon tiflis. on the th of july a conference of the allied generals was held at general pelissier's to consider the position of the turks in asia minor, and it was with much difficulty the turkish generalissimo succeeded in persuading them that , turks operating in asia were much better employed than if they were doing nothing at komara. however, it was long ere he could obtain the means of carrying out his plans; and there is no doubt but that his assistance in operating from eupatoria would have been of the utmost importance during the time he was compelled to maintain an attitude of hopeless inactivity. [sidenote: gloomy forebodings of sir george brown.] it will be observed that all this while the turks never took part in the siege. the justice of the following remarks, which was apparent enough in july, , seems still more evident at the present moment:--"it is a singular thing, that while the french and british troops consider their most harassing work to be the duty in the trenches, the turks, who are equally interested in the event of the war, and will be the most benefited by its success, do not take any share in actual siege operations, and amuse themselves with the mere pastime of foraging, or actually sitting in indolence for hours together, following the shadows of their tents as they move from west to east, smoking stolidly, or grinning at the antics of some mountebank comrade. omar pasha goes hither and thither without object, merely that his army may seem to be employed; its actual services are of little importance. it is said that an agreement was made between the allied generals and the porte that the turks were not to assist in the siege. but why not? and can such an arrangement be binding when the public good demands a different course? if the ottoman troops be so excellent behind fortifications, there can be no objection to their relieving their hard-worked allies in some of the less important positions; or they might at least be employed in some more active manner than merely moving to and fro occasionally, as if for the purpose of impressing the mind of europe with a false idea of activity. "the rumour has spread within the last few days that omar pasha is to go to kars, in order to relieve the place and oppose the advance of the russians in asia. but this, if seriously contemplated, can be intended only as a measure of preparation for next year's campaign, and the object will be rather to save erzeroum than kars. should the transportation of the turkish army to trebizonde be determined upon, it will not take less than two months, even with the help of the british navy, to convey it across, a longer term having been required for the transport from varna to eupatoria, which places are not so far apart. allowing a month for the march from trebizonde to kars, it would be november before the army could reach its new position; and at that season the lofty table-land of armenia is deep in snow, and all military operations will be suspended until the ensuing spring. but it is more than probable that the report of the movement has no foundation. it arises from a belief that the affairs of asia have been grievously neglected, that the present year has not bettered the position of the turks, and that there is danger lest the russians should actually succeed in wresting away an important province as well as consolidating their reputation among the inhabitants of central asia." the first great phase in the siege had been passed--we found that the russians could resist the allied forces with vigour, and that they were capable of acting upon the defensive with greater energy than we gave them credit for, from their conduct at the alma. the constant passage up the bosphorus of vessels with troops on board from france, and artillery and material from england, evinced the preparations made by the allies for the renewal of the struggle; but there were many who thought that the siege would not be over till the following year, and that the allies would have to undergo the miseries of another winter in the open trenches. sir george brown, who had ever entertained a most gloomy view of our position--the falseness and danger of which, in a military sense, he rather exaggerated than undervalued--left the army on sick certificate two days after lord raglan's death, and the generals in command were new and untried men, in comparison with those who first led our army to the crimean campaign. on the th of july, the turks and french went out foraging and reconnoitring towards baidar. according to the officers who accompanied this reconnaissance, there was no weak point towards the belbek, and an attack on the russian position from inkerman to simpheropol was considered hopeless. nature seems as if she had constructed the plateau they occupied as a vast defensible position which , men might hold against four times their number. writing on the th of july, i said,--"of the reduction of sebastopol proper before the winter i have no kind of doubt. the russian generals, though brave and determined on an obstinate defence, deserve credit for prudence and forethought. as long as a place can be held with a chance of success, or even of damaging the enemy, they will hold it; but all their proceedings induce the belief that they will not allow their troops to be cut to pieces merely for the credit of having made a desperate resistance, and of having maintained, without advantage, for a short time longer, a position which, in a military sense, is untenable. when they perceive that their retreat is seriously endangered, it is not improbable that they will altogether abandon the southern side, which they can hardly hope to hold should the allies be able to command the harbour. they, no doubt, count at least on being able to prolong their resistance until the winter sets in; if that be impossible, they will most likely withdraw to the northern side, to which it may be impracticable to lay siege before the spring of ." on the night of the nd, the russians, who were either under the impression that the allies were about to make an assault, or wished to stop our working parties, opened a heavy fire of musketry along their line, and after a great expenditure of ammunition, they retired from the parapets. the casualties in the trenches became so heavy, that the commander-in-chief, in several despatches, expressed his regret at the loss, which he attributed to the proximity of the works, the lightness of the nights, and the rocky nature of the ground. from the th to the th july, thirteen men were killed, and five officers and men were wounded, in addition to casualties in the naval brigade. however, some little progress was made--our advanced parallels were strengthened, and our unlucky fifth parallel was deepened. the french engineers were pressing on with indefatigable energy on the right and left of our position, and were close to the malakoff on the right, and the central and flagstaff bastion on the left; and it was evident that, at the next bombardment, it would scarcely be possible to preserve the town from destruction. the russians prepared to strike a blow, the influence of which would be felt in the councils of vienna, and in the cabinets of every state in europe. the french had now pushed their works almost to the abattis of the malakoff, and were so near that a man might throw a stone into the russian position. it began to be understood by all engaged that the real point of attack would be the malakoff works, the capture of which would render the redan untenable, and make the surrender of the south side of the place merely a question of time. [sidenote: russian letter to a sister] the following letter, which was found in laspi, near baidar, affords a curious insight into the feeling of russian civilians. it was written from a village close to the north fort of sebastopol, and ran thus:-- _may _ (_june _). "you are not, my dear sister, in a very safe position; according to my judgment, the enemy is only a few steps from you at foross. the baidar road is broken up. we have already sent pioneers to the coast to break up the roads in case of the arrival of the enemy; they have taken a sufficient quantity of powder. in your letter of the th of may ( th) you said all was quiet about you, but it cannot be so now. kertch is taken; at arabat there was a battle, in which we were victorious. they even say that a russian army is marching upon paris. up to to-day all was quiet in sebastopol. to-day the enemy bombarded heavily, but did nothing but bombard, and will do nothing; they can do nothing at all against us. mother, who has just come from there, says it is impossible to recognize the town, it is so much changed by the fortification continually added to it. at the severnaya, you enter as through a gate, with enormous batteries on each side. mother was there a day when it was quite quiet; she even slept in the town that night. at ten o'clock a shell fell into the gallery near the window; happily it did not fall into the room, or she might have been hurt. * * * they say that the seat of war will soon be transferred to the danube. it is time that these gentlemen should leave us, and let us have a little rest. as soon as they go, the town of sebastopol will be built where the chersonese was, and what is now sebastopol will be entirely a fortress. how curious it will be, till one gets accustomed to it," &c. the writer goes on to speak of her yellow dress being ready, and of her intention of going in it to sebastopol in order to have her portrait taken. the severnaya alluded to in the letter was what we called the star fort, or is more probably the name for the whole northern faubourg. after the sortie of the rd of july, nothing of importance, or even of interest, occurred. the desultory fire, to which we were accustomed, continued by day, usually swelling into a roar of artillery for a portion of every night. the casualties continued much as before, not very heavy, although some days were unlucky, and on the night of the th the guards had twenty-five or thirty men killed and wounded. soon after five o'clock on the morning of the st of july a most violent storm of wind and rain commenced. it caused much discomfort and actual damage in the camp, over which it raged with combined fury and obstinacy which i do not remember to have seen surpassed. the extensive portion of the camp, of which i commanded a view from my hut, was converted into a lake, the rain descending much faster than it could sink into the earth. over the surface of this lake the rain was borne in clouds by the driving wind, and formed a sort of watery curtain through which the soaked tents looked dreary and dismal enough. the shelter which they offered, imperfect as it was, was sought, and only here and there a drenched figure was to be seen struggling through the blast. in the pens the mules and horses hung their heads mournfully, enduring, with melancholy philosophy, the inevitable and unwelcome _douche_. in sundry nooks and corners to the leeward of tents, and under the eaves of huts, the camp fowls took refuge, with drooping plumes, and that look of profound discomfort peculiar to poultry under difficulties. even the furious war of the elements did not arrest the strife between man and man, and from time to time, above the roar of the wind and the plash of the rain, the boom of a gun reached us. i was told by a french officer of artillery, that general pelissier, on being asked when offensive siege operations would be again resumed, said, "well, i don't know: the russians are losing every day or men by sickness. if we wait a week, they will have lost a brigade; if we wait a month, they will have lost a _corps d'armée_." but if the russians lost many men by sickness, they managed to replace them. numbers of stories were in circulation about the formidable forces which had come, and kept coming, and apprehensions of an attack upon the tchernaya line gained ground daily. on the night of august nd, between ten and eleven o'clock, p.m., the russians sallied out of the town by the woronzoff road, and advanced to the heavy iron frieze placed across the woronzoff road, between the left and right attacks. the advanced picket at the _chevaux de frise_ was commanded by lieutenant r. e. carr, of the th regiment, who behaved with coolness and gallantry. he fell back slowly, keeping up a fire on the russians, to the advanced trench guard, under captain lackie, th regiment. the trench guard on the right of the fourth parallel, under captain boyle, th, and captain turner, st royals, checked the enemy, and they retired after ten minutes' firing, leaving a few men killed behind them, and carrying off a part of the barrier. [sidenote: composition of piedmontese army.] piedmont, placed as it is between two great military powers--france and austria--has evidently watched with attention the progress and improvements which have been introduced into the military systems of these two neighbouring empires, and adapted their experiments in these matters to her own advantage. in the autumn of every year a concentration of troops takes place in lombardy, and before the war of numbers of piedmontese officers used to assemble there. the same was, and i think is still, the case whenever a camp is collected in the south of france. thus they had the opportunity of studying two, in many respects, very different systems. the result is a blending of the two in arms, accoutrements, administration, and movements. for instance, the infantry is dressed in french fashion, with leather gaiters under the trousers, the long coat reaching to the knees; the only exception being the shako, which more resembles the austrian shako than the french kepi. the cavalry and the artillery, on the contrary, wear the short tunic of the austrian cavalry and artillery. for the movements of infantry as well as of cavalry the french manual has been exclusively adopted, and at some distance one could scarcely distinguish french cavalry manoeuvring from piedmontese, were it not for the difference in the seat of the riders. the _manège_ is decidedly austrian. the spirit of the piedmontese army--i mean, the relations existing between soldiers and officers, and of the intercourse of the latter with one another--is, however, more analagous to that of the english than to that of either the french or austrian armies. it is neither the easy familiarity which exists between the french officer and soldier, nor that "beggar-on-horseback"-like tyranny of the officer and the unwilling slavishness of the soldier which characterize the austrian army. the officers in the piedmontese, like those in the english army, belong almost exclusively to the higher classes, and only rarely does an officer rise from the ranks, so that the distance between officer and soldier is not one of mere discipline, but social; and, however the spirit of republicanism and the longing for equality may be developed in other states of italy, piedmont does not seem to be impregnated with it, and the system adopted of choosing for officers men from the higher classes answers very well. on the other hand, the officers themselves associate much in the same manner as in the english army. when official business is over and social intercourse begins, the difference between the higher and lower officer entirely ceases, and they associate as gentlemen are wont to do. on the th of july a medical board was ordered on lieutenant-general sir r. england, g.c.b., commanding third division, and he was recommended to return to england. he was the last of the generals who left england in command of a division. major-general eyre succeeded him in the third division. on the th, brigadier lockyer was in orders for ceylon, and colonel windham, c.b., was nominated to succeed him in the command of the second brigade, nd division. on the rd of august general canrobert was recalled. at an early hour on the th, general simpson went round the lines, examining the works. a council of war was held on wednesday evening, th, at the british head-quarters. the principal medical officers of divisions received orders to clear the hospitals, to send to balaklava such patients as could safely be moved, and to complete the preparations for the reception of wounded men. leave of absence continued to be granted to a very large extent. taking five of the then latest general orders, those of the rd, th, th, th, and th of august, we find the names of no less than seventy officers who had received permission to absent themselves. of these, twenty-nine proceeded to england--twenty-six of them in virtue of medical certificates, and three upon "urgent private affairs," or in consideration of peculiar circumstances: twenty-seven went to scutari and therapia for periods varying from two to five weeks; twelve on board ship, and two to the monastery of st. george, where there were ten rooms fitted up for ailing or convalescent officers. i heard a colonel declare that he had but one captain and three subalterns on duty in his battalion, and that he, consequently, had to send one hundred men into the trenches under charge of a youth of eighteen. if this state of things could not have been helped, it, at least, was very unfortunate. enough officers did not come out to replace those who went home. the protracted siege--if siege it could be called, which in reality was a tedious struggle between two rows of detached forts--was certainly not popular with the officers of the army, few of whom cared to remain if they had a respectable pretext for returning home, while fewer still desired to return hither when they once got away. i am persuaded that if there had been more movement in the campaign--if, instead of monotonous trench duty we had been engaged in ordinary warfare, manoeuvring, marching, fighting, there would have been both less sickness and fewer seeking leave. i do not attempt to decide the question whether leave was sometimes too easily granted, and more to interest than to necessity. the french were thought to fall into the other extreme, and instances were cited to me in which the lives of valuable officers would have been saved had they been allowed to exchange severe duty (one night out of three in the trenches, independently of ordinary guards and parades, cannot be considered light labour) for a period of relaxation in a more salutary climate. on the th the russians amused themselves by throwing a few round shot into the camp of the fourth division. two of these buried themselves in the ground, close to a hospital hut of the th regiment, shaking the edifice and astonishing the wounded, but doing no other damage; another killed a man of the field-train as he lay in his tent. it was said the missiles were intended for general bentinck's tents, which were near the fourth division flagstaff on cathcart's hill. the duke of newcastle was staying there. a new kitchen, building for the general, was thought to have attracted the attention of the muscovite gunners. [sidenote: demand for black mail by turks.] late in the evening of the th of august orders were given for the troops to be under arms by three in the morning. of course, malakoff was immediately the word, and most persons supposed that the long-talked-of assault was to be made. this, however, was soon found not to be the case. without tap of drum or sound of bugle, the camp was afoot at the prescribed hour, the troops forming up in profound silence. the entire army was out, including the cavalry and artillery from balaklava. the first grey of morning found a number of officers and amateurs assembled on cathcart's hill, the best point of observation. there was unusually little firing the day before and during the night, and all expected that this tranquillity was quickly to be broken by the din of an engagement. the interest of the situation grew stronger as the morning advanced, and as the scarlet columns became visible, massed along the lines, motionless and expectant. superior officers, with their staff, moved to and fro; aides-de-camp traversed the heights with orders; here and there, through the still imperfect light, which began to be tinged with the first red flush of sunrise, waved the pennons of a lancer escort. with broad day, the brief excitement ended. before the upper edge of the sun's disc rose above the hills, the troops were marching briskly back to their tents. the morning was beautifully clear, and the spectacle was striking. in fine order, in serried columns, looking hardy, active, and cheerful, and up to any work, the crimean army regained its canvas quarters. for the day, the danger was over--to commence again, it was believed, at night. from certain orders that were given with respect to ammunition, mules, &c., i inferred that the army would again be under arms early the next morning. the officers were warned to be ready at a moment's notice. it was believed that reinforcements had reached sebastopol. they had been expected for some time previously. four divisions were talked of, two of them imperial guards. word was sent up from the fleet to head-quarters that large bodies of troops had been seen collecting behind the redan, and others behind the tchernaya, and there were grounds for expecting a general attack along our lines. the generals of division assembled in the afternoon at the quarters of the commander-in-chief. general simpson was indisposed, and it was reported that he intended going on board ship for a few days. it is not impossible that this turn-out of the army was a mere rehearsal, intended to ascertain whether all the actors were perfect in their parts, and in case of need would be promptly at their posts. the report in camp was, that the archduke michael was in sebastopol. we learned from deserters that he had been expected. general pelissier held , men in readiness to operate on the line of the tchernaya, which, from its extent, was perhaps the most attackable part of our position; but it was vigilantly guarded. the _orinoco_ arrived at balaklava with dragoons and horses. mr. doyne, superintendent-in-chief of the army working corps, also arrived. he came as far as constantinople in the _simoom_, with of his men, who were to follow him to the crimea. the casualties from the th to the th were killed; one officer, and wounded. on the afternoon of the th, a distinguished young officer, major hugh drummond, scots fusileer guards, was killed as he was posting his sentries in front of the trenches. drafts arrived to the light division; the st regiment, and one squadron of st dragoon guards, landed at balaklava. the troops turned out every morning before dawn, and the sardinians and french made reconnaissances. the russian villas in the lovely valley of baidar suffered, in which the turks discovered, in a little country-house on the sea-shore, called laspi, an old french doctor, who had been established many years in russia. one fine morning a complaint was made to the french general by his countryman, that five turkish soldiers had come to pay a visit to laspi. they were received and fed, but before going away they asked for "_madjar_" (hungarian ducats, the best known foreign money among the turks). the old doctor, who of course understood nothing of their language, thought it was a polite inquiry about his nationality; and, wishing to rectify the mistake of his guests, pointed to the french cockade which he had fixed on his cap, saying at the same time, "_je suis français, français._" but when one of the soldiers took hold of his watch and chain, and the others began to search the persons of the ladies of the family, he was aware that it was he, and not the turks, who had made the mistake, and the soldiers departed with objects to the value of about £ . general pelissier addressed a complaint to the turkish head-quarters. the answer was, that the turks had the strictest orders not to plunder; that the marauders could not have been turkish soldiers; and that the dress and flint muskets must have been borrowed or taken in order to make people believe that they were turks. after the french and english cavalry occupied the valley, the visits to the country-houses became much more systematic. the russians having entirely withdrawn from the coast up to yalta, the whole of the country-houses on the shore were opened to enterprising individuals, and every morning arabas and pack-horses came into camp, loaded with the most heterogeneous objects; chairs, beds, crockery, carpets, pictures, albums, ladies' work-baskets, embroidered cushions, cooking utensils, wine, and hundreds of other things, were brought back and sold all along the road. in order to put a stop to these excursions, an english cavalry picket was stationed at the phoros pass, which is erected on the highest point of the woronzoff road, just before it begins to descend towards the sea, and nobody was allowed to enter except with a pass. but this mended things only half--that is to say, no english soldier was permitted to indulge in a roaming disposition; but french marauders, as before, came duly provided with a pass, and returned with as much plunder as they could possibly carry. chapter ii. defeat of the russians--renewal of hostilities--bravery of the allied armies--tenacity of russian attack--usual prognostication of retreat--letter of emperor read to russian troops--enumeration of troops engaged on the side of the allies--despatch of marshal pelissier. on the th of august the long-threatened attack of the russians took place, and ended in their complete defeat. movements of large numbers of troops in the neighbourhood of sebastopol, the unanimous reports of the deserters, of whom several came in every day, and information gained from tartars, had given intimation that the russians intended to try their luck once more in an offensive operation. although, at first, the line of the tchernaya suggested itself as the point which the russians would most probably attack, a supposition which was moreover confirmed by all the deserters, yet, as large numbers of newly-arrived troops were seen concentrated in and about the russian works, apprehensions were entertained that they might attempt the positions before sebastopol. [sidenote: positions of the armies.] several deserters came in on the th, and spoke with the utmost certainty of an intended attack on the tchernaya; but no particular attention was paid to their reports, and no special orders were given to the troops, except "to be prepared;" and this had been so often repeated that it made no impression. in baidar, whence the english cavalry had been withdrawn, two regiments of heavy french cavalry, and detachments of chasseurs and zouaves, were stationed. on the th, general d'allonville sent word by semaphore, that large numbers of russian troops were concentrated on the heights, and that he expected to be attacked. late in the evening, notice of this message was sent to general della marmora and osman pasha. no additional precautions were taken on the tchernaya line, and the advance was scarcely less a surprise than that of inkerman. the first news of the attack was brought about daybreak by some chasseurs forming part of a patrol who fell into an ambuscade and escaped, while their comrades were taken prisoners. soon afterwards the outposts across the tchernaya were driven in, and at daybreak the cannonade began. the tchernaya, issuing from the narrow gorge in which it runs after leaving the valley of baidar, at the tower of karlovka, flows between a succession of hillocks, which formed the basis of the position of the allied armies. on the extreme right, the turks were stationed. they occupied two hillocks, between which are two roads leading from higher tchorgoun and the tower of karlovka into the woronzoff road. the sardinians leant on the little mountain stream which limited the turkish position to the left, and on the large hillock above the road from balaklava to tchorgoun, and occupied a position of the utmost importance in the defence of the line of the tchernaya. in front, and divided from it by the aqueduct, was another hillock, smaller but equally steep, accessible from the first by a stone bridge on which the sardinians had a small _épaulement_. they had outposts at the other side of the tchernaya, on the hillock near the mackenzie road. the french occupied three hillocks to the left of the sardinians, and guarded the road leading to balaklava over the traktir bridge from mackenzie's farm. the first of these, to the right, was separated from the others by the road to the bridge; and the third, on the left, was protected by the basin of the aqueduct. in front of the bridge there was an _épaulement_, beyond which were the outposts. [illustration plan of the battle of the tchernaya august th . reduced from the q.m. general's plan. ] the first attack of the russians was against the outposts of the sardinians. corresponding to the hillocks on the south side of the tchernaya were three plateaux from which their guns could command not only the ground opposite occupied by the sardinians and turks, but the plain which opens towards the french position. a company of infantry, and a company of bersaglieri, formed the sardinian outposts. they were attacked at dawn. as the troops were not under arms, it was necessary to hold this position for a while, and general della marmora sent major govone, of the etat-major, with a company of bersaglieri, to reinforce the companies. they crossed the aqueduct and the river, and went up the plateau; but, when they arrived on the crest, the two companies had just left the _épaulement_, which had become untenable, as it was swept by the guns which the russians had brought up on the plateaux, and was exposed to be taken in the rear. the sardinians retired in good order across the river, and went to reinforce the post which occupied the second hillock on the aqueduct. the cannonade on both sides commenced. scarcely had the cannonade opened when three compact columns of infantry advanced towards the french position, and attacked the bridge and the hillock to the right. the french outpost beyond the bridge consisted of a company of the nd regiment of zouaves. the other _avant postes_, to the right of the zouaves up to the sardinian outposts, were furnished by the th _léger_ and the nd of the line. the _réveillée_ had not yet gone in camp, when the sentinels were alarmed by hearing the tramp of men, whose forms were yet invisible in the darkness. the posts had not time to stand to their arms ere they were driven across the river; but the desultory firing had given timely warning to the main guards and to the camps, and the men turned out just as a storm of round shot began to rush over the ground. the russian columns, protected by the fire of their artillery, moved in excellent order down to the river side, notwithstanding the heavy fire of artillery which greeted them in front from the french, and in flank from the sardinians. at the river the first column detached itself from the rest, and dividing into two parts crossed the river, which is easily fordable in summer. before the troops were properly under arms the russians were at the bridge and at the foot of the hillock. the th _léger_ and the nd battalion of zouaves had to stand the first shock, and they certainly stood it gallantly. the russians, without losing time in firing, advanced with an _élan_ scarcely ever seen in russian troops. they were new troops, belonging, according to the prisoners and wounded, to the th division of the nd _corps d'armée_, lately arrived from poland. the aqueduct which ran close to the foot of the hillock, formed the chief defence of the french. about nine or ten feet wide and several feet deep, it skirts the steep hills so close, that it is nearly in all places supported by a high embankment, offering considerable difficulties for an advancing force, and exposing them as soon as they reach the top of the embankment, to commanding musketry fire. notwithstanding this, the russians crossed it on the right, and were beginning to scale the heights, when, taken in flank by the sardinian batteries, which fired with admirable precision, they were swept down wholesale and rolled into the aqueduct. [sidenote: ordinary signal of russian retreat.] this first rush did not last ten minutes. the russians fell back. scarcely had they gone a few hundred yards when they were met by a second column, which was advancing at the _pas de charge_, and both united and again rushed forward. this second attempt was more successful than the first. they forded the river on the right and left, at the bridge, and forced its defenders to fall back. the moment the bridge was free two guns of the th light brigade of artillery crossed it and took position between two of the hillocks on the road which leads to the plain of balaklava. a third gun crossed the river by a ford, and all three began to sweep the road and the heights. the infantry, without waiting for the portable bridges, the greater part of which had been thrown away during the advance, rushed breast-deep into the water, climbed up the embankment, and began to scale the heights. they succeeded in getting up more than one-half of the ascent, where the dead and wounded afterwards showed clearly the mark they reached; but by this time the french met them in the most gallant style. the russians were by degrees forced back, and driven across the bridge, carrying away their guns. while this conflict took place on the bridge, the other column attacked the french right in such a swarm that they could neither be kept back by the aqueduct, nor cowed by the sardinian guns, which were ploughing long lanes through their ranks. on they came, as it seemed, irresistible, and rushed up the steep hill with such fury that the zouaves, who lined the sides of it, were obliged to fall back. the officers might be seen leading the way and animating their soldiers. this furious rush brought the advancing column to the crest of the hillock, where it stopped to form. but the french had not been idle. scarcely did the column of the enemy show its head, ere the guns opened upon it with grape, and a murderous fire was poured in by the french infantry. the column began to waver; but the impetus from those behind was so powerful that the head was pushed forward a few yards more, when the french, giving one mighty cheer, rushed upon the enemy, who, shaken already, immediately turned round and ran. but the mass was so great that all the hurry could not save them, and more than prisoners were taken, the banks of the aqueduct, the aqueduct itself, and the river side were covered and filled with the dead and the wounded. the sardinian and french artillery poured a murderous cross-fire into the scattered remains of the column. it was a complete rout. the french drove them far across the plain. this defeat completely depressed them; nothing more was attempted against this side. not so on the bridge. notwithstanding the heavy loss suffered in the second attack, the russians collected the scattered remains of the column which had been routed on the right of the french, and brought up all their reserves. they crossed the river, and the aqueduct too, but the french were now thoroughly prepared, and the tenacity of the russians only served to augment their losses. this last failure was decisive, and immediately the advance of the artillery--the usual russian preparation for retreat--showed they were on the point of retiring. three batteries, each of twelve guns, began to open fire, while the remains of the infantry rallied behind a rising ground leading up towards the plateau of ayker, or mackenzie's height. the sardinians, who, with the exception of the little outpost fight on the opposite side of the tchernaya, had only supported the french by their artillery, began to move across the aqueduct. the russian riflemen, after the last defeat on the right, had retired behind the banks of the tchernaya. a battalion of piedmontese, preceded by a company of bersaglieri, advanced in beautiful order as if on parade, and soon drove these riflemen from their position. it even advanced some way, but it was not intended to force the heights. the french brought up a new division (dulac's). the english and french cavalry were in readiness on the ground of the light cavalry charge, to receive the enemy if they should debouch on the plain. but general morris would not risk the cavalry on the plain, intersected as it was by the branches of the river, and defended, as it was still, by the russian guns on the height; so only two squadrons of chasseurs d'afrique followed the retreating enemy. the guns which the russians had brought up to cover their retreat suffered so much by the fire, which from our side was increased by captain mowbray's battery from the open ground between the sardinian and the french positions, that they made off. as the guns retired, a brilliant line of cavalry appeared from behind the rising ground. i could distinguish five regiments--three in line and two other regiments in second line. they advanced at a gallop, and wheeling round, allowed twelve guns to pass, which again opened fire, but at half-past nine or ten o'clock black lines moving off, through clouds of the dust on the mackenzie road, were the only traces which remained of the so long threatened attack of the russians. although not quite so obstinate and sanguinary as the battle of inkerman, this affair resembled it in many points. the russians gave up manoeuvring, and confided entirely in the valour of their troops. the difference was in the manner of fighting. at inkerman the russians fell under file firing; on the tchernaya it was the artillery which did the greatest execution. on the banks of the aqueduct particularly, the sight was appalling; the russians, when scaling the embankment of the aqueduct, were taken in flank by the sardinian batteries, and the dead and wounded rolled down the embankment, sometimes more than twenty feet in height. according to the account of the prisoners, and judging from the straps on the shoulders of the wounded and dead, three divisions were engaged in the actual attack,--the th of the nd _corps d'armée_ (of general paniutin), then lately arrived from poland, under the command of general wrangel; the th division of the th _corps d'armée_ (osten sacken's), formerly under the command of general liprandi, afterwards under general martinolep; and the th division of the th _corps d'armée_ (liprandi's), under major-general wassielkosky. before the attack began, general gortschakoff, who commanded in person, read a letter from the emperor before them, in which he expressed a hope that they would prove as valorous as last year when they took the heights of balaklava; and then there was a large distribution of brandy. besides the three divisions which attacked, the th occupied tchorgoun and the heights, but was not engaged except in the small outpost affair of the sardinians. the french had three divisions engaged--the division faucheux to the right, the division d'herbillon in the centre, and the division (camou) on the left of the bridge; their loss was about , in killed and wounded. the sardinians had only one division engaged (the division trotti), and lost but a few hundred men; they had to regret the loss of a distinguished general officer, the brigadier-general count de montevecchio, who died of his wounds; but they gained great confidence from the day, and were proud of holding their own so well under the eyes of their allies. the battle had been raging for an hour ere i reached the line of the french works at fedukhine. from the high grounds over which i had to ride, the whole of the battle-field was marked out by rolling columns of smoke, and the irregular thick puffs of the artillery. all our cavalry camps were deserted; but the sun played on the helmets and sabres of the solid squadrons, which were drawn up about two miles in advance of kadikoi, and just in rear of the line of hills which the french and sardinians were defending, so as to be ready to charge the russians should they force the position. the french cavalry, chasseurs, hussars, and two regiments of dragoons, were on our left. our light and our heavy cavalry brigades were formed in two heavy masses, supported by artillery in the plain behind the second fedukhine hillock, and seemed in splendid case, and "eager for the fray." the allies had, in fact, not less than , very fine cavalry that day in the field; but they were held in check, "for fear" of the artillery, which there is no doubt they could have captured, in addition to many thousands of prisoners, if handled by a seidlitz or a murat. but the french general would not permit a charge to be executed, though french and english cavalry leaders were alike eager for it, and so this noble force was rendered ineffective. having passed by the left of the cavalry, i gained the side of the hill just as a large body of french troops crowned it at the _pas double_, deployed, and at once charged down towards the aqueduct, where a strong column of russians, protected by a heavy fire of artillery on the crest of the ridge, were making good their ground against the exhausted french. this new regiment attacking them with extraordinary impetuosity on the flank, literally swept the russians like flies into the aqueduct, or rolled them headlong down its steep banks; and at the same moment a french battery on my right, belonging, i think, to the imperial guards, opened on the shattered crowd with grape, and tore them into atoms. this column was the head, so to speak, of the second attack on the lines, and emerging through the flying mass, another body of russian infantry, with levelled bayonets, advanced with great steadiness towards the aqueduct once more. as far as the eye could see towards the right, the flat caps and grey coats were marching towards the allied position, or detaching themselves from the distant reserves, which were visible here and there concealed amid the hills. as the french battery opened, a russian battery was detached to answer it, and to draw off their fire; but our gallant allies took their pounding with great gallantry and coolness, and were not diverted for a moment from their business of dealing with the infantry column, the head of which was completely knocked to pieces in two minutes. then the officers halted it, and tried in vain to deploy them--the column, wavering and wriggling like a great serpent, began to spread out from the further extremity like a fan, and to retreat towards the rear. another crashing volley of grape, and they are retreating over the plain. and now there breaks high over all the roar of battle, heavier thunder. those are the deep, angry voices of the great english heavy battery of -pounders and -pounder howitzers, under mowbray, which search out the reserves. these guns were placed far away on my right, near the sardinians, and it is acknowledged by all that they did good service upon this eventful day. the advance i had just witnessed was the last effort of the enemy. their infantry rolled in confused masses over the plain on the other side of the tchernaya, were pursued by the whole fire of the french batteries and of the -inch english howitzers in the sardinian redoubt, and by a continuous and well-directed fusillade, till they were out of range. their defeat was announced by the advance of their cavalry, and by the angry volleys of their artillery against the positions of the allies. their cavalry, keeping out of range, made a very fair show, with lances and standards, and sabres shining brightly; but beyond that they did nothing--and, indeed, they could do nothing, as we did not give them a chance of action. the russians were supported by guns, but they did not seem well placed, nor did they occupy a good position at any time of the fight. the infantry formed in square blocks in the rear of this force, and then began to file off towards the mackenzie road, and the french rocket battery opened on them from the plateau, and, strange to say, reached them several times. it was about eight o'clock when their regular retreat commenced, and the english cavalry and artillery began to retire also at that hour to their camps, much discontented, because they had had no larger share in the honours of the day. the march of the russians continued till late in the day--their last column gained the plateau about two o'clock. it must have been a terrible march for them--not a drop of water to be had; and even when they gained their arid camp, it is only too probable that they had nothing to drink; indeed, the prisoners told us the men were encouraged to the attack by being told that if they gained the tchernaya they would have abundance of water--the greatest inducement that could be held out to them. i rode down towards the _tête-du-pont_. in order to get a good view of the retreat, i descended to the bridge, which was covered with wounded men. just as i gained the centre of it, a volley of shells was pitched right upon it, and amid the french, who, with their usual humanity, were helping the wounded. some burst in the shallow stream, the sides of which were crowded with wounded men; others killed poor wretches who were crawling towards the water,--one in particular, to whom i had just an instant before thrown a sandwich; others knocked pieces out of the bridge, or tore up the causeway. as the road was right in the line of fire, i at once turned off the bridge, and pulling sharp round, dashed under an arch just as the battery opened on us a second time, and there i remained for about ten minutes, when the russians seemed ashamed of themselves, and gave us a respite for a few moments. the next time they fired was with round shot; and as i retreated up the road, to obtain shelter behind the hills, one of these knocked a wounded zouave to pieces before my eyes. in the rear of the hill, there was a party of about five hundred russian prisoners _en bivouac_. many of them were wounded; all were war-worn, dirty, ill-clad,--some in rags, others almost bootless. the french sentries who guarded them seemed to commiserate the poor fellows; but two or three of their own officers, who sat apart, did not look at them, but smoked their cigars with great nonchalance, or talked glibly to the french officers of the fortune of war, &c. in a short time i returned to the front, and saw general simpson and a few staff-officers descending from the sardinian position, whence they had watched the battle. they were on their way back to head-quarters; but captain colville, aide-de-camp to the general, a young officer of ability and promise, and always of an inquiring turn of mind, turned back with me, and we rode over the bridge. the french were, however, obdurate, and would not let us cross the _tête-du-pont_, as we were _en pleine portée_ of the guns posted behind a white scarp on a hillock on the opposite side. we could see that the sardinians had recovered their old ground, and occupied the height from which their advanced posts were driven early in the day. further, we could see the russian cavalry, but the great mass of infantry was in full retreat; and at nine o'clock the road to mackenzie's farm was thronged with a close column of thirsty, footsore, beaten russians. the aspect of the field, of the aqueduct, and of the river, was horrible beyond description;--the bodies were closely packed in parties, and lay in files two or three deep, where the grape had torn through the columns. for two days the bodies rotted on the ground which lay beyond the french lines, and the first russian burying party did not come down till the th, when the stench was so very great that the men could scarcely perform their loathsome task. general read was killed early in the battle; and the russians lost every officer in command of an attacking column. their total loss was, we estimated, at from , to , men. chapter iii. spoil of camp-followers and sutlers--renewal of cannonade--nature of russian artillery firing--unwillingness of the turks to throw up earthworks--list of british wounded, killed and missing--british reinforcements--reports of russian attack on balaklava--rumours of peace--peace party in camp--tenacity and endurance of russians underrated by them--desire of english cavalry to avenge their comrades. after the affair of the th, the siege operations monopolized, in great measure, the military interest which the tchernaya had attracted for one moment. but the tchernaya became a point of attraction for all curiosity-seeking persons, whose name was legion, in the allied armies. officers and soldiers, although numerous enough, were few in proportion to the merchant sailors, suttlers from balaklava and kamiesch, and other nondescript camp-followers, who formed a class of themselves, and were as sure to appear after an action was over as vultures. everything was acceptable. they had little chance of getting hold of medals, amulets, and crosses, and other more valuable spoil, for these disappeared marvellously; but they were not particular. the russian muskets were most in request--cartridge-boxes, riflemen's swords, bayonets, &c., were taken _faute de mieux_. there were some excellent rifles, with sword-bayonets, which were in great request; they were, as was usually the case with all valuable things, picked up by the zouaves, who certainly had the best right to them, having won them by their bravery. the zouaves sold them, and the gendarmes took them away again, leaving the purchaser free to single out the zouave who sold the rifle, and to get back his purchase-money. but the gendarmes confiscated all arms, whether paid for or not, as, according to the regulations of the french army, they ought to have been collected on the battle-field by the artillery--a thing which was never done. the fire, which opened at daybreak on friday, continued the whole of saturday and sunday, but slackened on monday. the progress of the french works was considerable, and the french seemed duly sensible of the service of our cannonade. i heard a french officer say on saturday evening that it had enabled them to do in four hours what they previously could not have done in fifteen days. their foremost parallel, which had been begun at the two ends, could not be completed, owing to its near proximity to the malakoff. as soon as a gabion was put up, a storm of projectiles was hurled against it and the working party; afterwards the extremities were connected under the cover of our fire. the distance was indeed so greatly reduced between the french trenches and the russian defences, that a vigorous assault seemed certain to succeed. [sidenote: harassing nature of "turns-outs"] the russians always considered it a point of honour to go off in great style on the first day of a bombardment; after which they ran their guns behind the parapets, covered them with sandbags, and allowed us to blaze away without making frequent reply. although earthworks take a deal of hammering before they show its marks, both the redan and malakoff began to present a very battered appearance. we had, of course, no means of ascertaining the russian loss of men. every night our people kept up the musketry against the proper right and the curtain of the malakoff to protect the french workmen, and shells and bouquets of shells flew all along the lines right and left--very pretty to look at, but unpleasant to meet. at sunset on saturday evening, the th of august, a party of the naval brigade, commanded by lieutenant gough, dragged a -pounder up to no. battery left attack to bear on the mole-head and on the bridge across the creek, but it did not appear to impede the movements of the enemy. on the afternoon of the th, between five and six o'clock, the french batteries on the left opened a furious fire, to which the russians warmly replied. general pelissier, in his open carriage, with his aides-de-camp and usual hussar escort, passed through the english camp and went up to cathcart's hill. the fire lasted until nightfall, and then diminished. at midnight it had almost ceased, and one saw but an occasional shell in the air. at a.m. orders came for the army to turn out. this was rapidly done; the troops moved to the front, and remained there until daylight. a line of telegraphic lights had been observed, commencing at sebastopol, and running along the inkerman heights, and it was supposed that an attack was intended. these "turns-outs" were frequent and harassing during this period of the siege. the french, who were convinced that in the face of a strong force of the enemy, who might come down with his battalions in a few hours during the night, field fortifications were never _de trop_, threw up three redoubts to command the bridge, which was the weakest point of their defence. they were named raglan redoubt, bizot redoubt (in honour of the fallen general of engineers), and la bussonière redoubt (in honour of the colonel of artillery of that name who fell on the th of june). the sardinians strengthened their position. their works assumed the shape of an entrenched camp, and every variation in the ground was taken advantage of. the hills were particularly suited for fortified lines. the turks, who occupied the extreme right of our position, and who had to guard the two roads leading from the valley of varnutka, did nothing in the _tabia_ line. in vain did the sardinian engineers throw out gentle hints about the propriety of erecting a couple of _épaulements_, and point out divers hills and heights peculiarly suited for a redoubt; they turned a deaf ear to all these suggestions, and, except the works which had been previously thrown up by the piedmontese, when they held some of the positions guarded by the turks, not a shovelful of earth was turned up. this would have seemed so much the more surprising, as the turks had become notorious by their fortification, at kalafat, giurgevo, silistria, and eupatoria. [sidenote: weight and calibre of british missiles.] on the th, the highland division under general cameron encamped close to the piedmontese. on the same day, general simpson reconnoitred with great care the position of the enemy, who had massed a considerable number of troops on the mackenzie plateau at taura and korales, and had pushed forward strong parties as far as makoul. it was understood from the spies that two regiments of the grenadier corps had been sent down in light carts from simpheropol. at the same time the russians were busy at a line of earthworks connecting all their defences from the sea to the west inkerman lighthouse hill. their bridge of boats or pontoons from north to south, across the road, was completed. it passed from the western curve of fort nicholas on the south, to the creek between nachimoff battery and fort michael. from the th to the rd of august inclusive, we lost sergeants, rank and file killed; officers, sergeants, rank and file wounded--total, _hors de combat_. on the th, lieutenant home, th, was contused on the shoulder; lieutenant campbell, nd, slightly wounded; lieutenant mcbarnet, th, ditto; captain dickson, r.a., ditto;--on the st, lieutenant smith, th, ditto;--on the nd, lieutenant campbell, scots fusileer guards, ditto; lieutenant wield, th, severely;--on the rd, lieutenant de winton, r.a., slightly. the casualties from the th to the th of august were-- rank and file killed; officers, sergeants, and rank and file wounded and missing. on the th, major warden, th, and lieutenant bigge, rd, were slightly, and captain j. f. browne, r.e., was severely wounded. on the th, captain r. drummond was dangerously wounded. colonel seymour (who was wounded in the thumb at inkerman) was hit in the head by a piece of a shell. lieutenant laurie, th, was slightly wounded the same day; on the th, lieutenant rous, of the th, and captain arbuthnot, r.a., were wounded severely. on the th, captain forbes, grenadier guards, received a very slight flesh scratch. on the th, captain farquharson, scotch fusileer guards, and major graham, st regiment, were wounded, the first slightly, the latter severely; and on the th, captain wolsley, of the th acting as engineer, was severely wounded. from the th to the th august, officer, sergeant, and rank and file were killed; officers, sergeants, and rank and file were wounded. the casualties from st august to nd september were officer, sergeant, rank and file killed; officers, sergeants, rank and file wounded; officer, rank and file missing. captain fraser, th, was killed on the st, and on the same night lieutenant burningheim, of the rd regiment, was slightly, and lieutenant forbes, th regiment, mortally wounded; and captain ross, of the buffs, was missing. on st september, lieutenant price, r.a., was slightly, and lieutenant cary, rifle brigade, was severely wounded. on the nd september, lieutenant roberts, r.a., and captain smith, th, were slightly wounded. on the th, the nd regiment disembarked from corfu, and relieved the th at balaklava. the th regiment, about strong, arrived at balaklava, and were annexed to the first division. the army continued to get under arms before daybreak. on the th the cavalry turned out , sabres, and or more could have been brought into the field. reports that the russians meditated an attack upon balaklava caused the admiral to order the _leander_ and _diamond_ to moor by a single cable, and the _triton_ was ordered to be ready to get steam up at brief notice, in order to tow them out to a position whence their guns could bear on the marine heights. notwithstanding these preparations, there were many rumours of peace. we had a peace party in camp, who reasoned that the russians could sustain the contest no longer. according to these authorities, in a couple of months the british army was to go home again. but there is no magic in wishes any more than in words, and these prophets of peace underrated the tenacity and endurance of the russian government and people. our works on the left continued to advance. several new batteries--one of mortars--were constructed in front of what had been our most advanced positions on that part of the line. the english cavalry came down to the valley every morning, as if haunting the ground where its comrades fell, and watching an opportunity to revenge them. the effect was imposing--perfect, one might say, if anything human could be called so. horses and men were in excellent condition, as fit for work as any cavalry could be. chapter iv. a few days quietude--languishment of british firing--prince gortschakoff's opinion of our feeble squibs--number of little globules thrown into sebastopol in a month--efforts to suppress the number of sutlers' houses--conversation with john bull as to composition of allied forces, &c.--terrific and destructive explosion--heavy and fierce cannonading--rumours of disorganization in sebastopol--heavy losses in allied armies--naval theatricals--crisis of the siege--rumours of a last grand attack or a sortie by russians--eagerness of allies for a battle--dangerous work of the trenches--proposal for a trench service decoration--condition of sardinians and french--fatalities amongst new and amateur trenchmen--renewed musketry and artillery firing--crowded state of our trenches--effective ruse of the russians. all the latter part of august passed quietly away: the russians on the alert to resist an assault--we prepared to meet the rumoured attack upon our lines. after the failure of june , our cannonade languished. we talked of it as slackening, and considered it extinct. prince gortschakoff assured the world that it was a mere squib, a feeble firework, which did those tough russians no harm, and caused their troops no inconvenience; and yet, somehow or other, between the th of june and th of july, not less than eight thousand pretty little globules of iron, eight, ten, and thirteen inches in diameter, and falling with a weight equivalent to fifty and to ninety tons, were deposited inside the lines of sebastopol, and every one that burst sent forth some six or eight fragments, of several pounds weight each, a distance of two or three hundred yards, unless they were stopped _in transitu_ by traverse or sinew. the authorities took active measures to curtail the proportions of the vast village of suttlers' houses at kadikoi. as there was a report that the fair was a nest of spies--that strange fires were occasionally lighted up on the hills behind it, towards karanyi, and were answered by the russians on the plateau mackenzie, and people came and departed as they listed without any interference with their movements, it was resolved to keep its limits more under control and supervision. some divisions managed to get together a considerable accumulation of stores in advance, and almost in anticipation of the winter, but fuel was brought up _de die in diem_ by a most thriftless process. it was no unusual thing to see a string of fine spanish mules and ponies, each of which cost a good round sum, coming from kasatch or balaklava with a couple of stout boughs lashed to each side of their pack-saddles, the ends trailing on the ground, and the drivers urging them at full speed. the proper load of wood for a mule is lb. judging from the loads i saw weighed, they actually carried less than lb., and at the same time the costly pack-saddles were ruined, and the animals distressed and injured by this clumsy mode of carriage. as i could not help exclaiming at the time, "how the money is flying! if mr. john could but have stood upon one of the hill-tops in the crimea, and if, after gladdening his heart with the sight of his fine fleet floating grandly on the water outside the 'beleaguered city,'--rejoicing over his brave sons whose white tents studded the brown steppe row after row,--and rubbing his hands with delight at the thunder of his batteries--he would just have wiped his glasses and looked at the less glorious and exciting portions of the scene, he would have some uneasy tinglings in his breeches-pockets, depend on it." "where are all these horses going to?" "oh, they're spanish horses, which have been _cast_ by the artillery, and they're going to be sold as unfit for service." "why, lord bless me! it's only a few months since i paid £ , for that very lot, and they've done nothing, i hear, but stand at their picket ropes ever since. they cost me, i'm sure, carriage and all, £ a-piece. what do you think i'll get for them?" "well, sir, to tell you the truth, i don't think as how they'll fetch more than £ a-head, if so much." [sidenote: conversation with john bull.] to speak plainly, for the old gentleman's peace of mind, i would not advise him to be too inquisitive, and a visit to the camp, when in its most flourishing condition and healthy aspect, might injure his nerves irremediably. "who are those fellows in that secluded valley, hunting among the vines for some grapes, while their horses are left to wander through the neglected gardens?" "they belong to division a, or b, or c, or d; see the letter branded upon the horses' flanks. they are turks, elamites, affghans, dwellers in mesopotamia, kurds, parthians, canaanites, greeks, for whose services in the land transport corps you, john, pay daily the sum of s. per man, and they ought now to be carrying up provisions for your soldiers; but, being philosophers of the epicurean school, they prefer the pursuit of the grape and the _insouciance_ of the siesta to tramping over dusty roads, or urging their mad career down stony ravines on thy much be-whacked quadrupeds!" "and those miles of mules and carts winding all along the plain, emerging from ravines, ascending hills, and that vast army of drivers in quaint attire, the concentration of the floating vagabondage of the world, the flotsam and jetsam of the social life of every nation, civil and barbarous, on earth--to whom do they belong, and who pays them and for them?" "even you, my dear sir, and very handsomely too, i can assure you." "and those ships in balaklava?" "yours again, sir; but don't be uneasy; things are managed better there now; occasionally the authorities root out a great demurrager, and send her off hopping after she has lain _perdu_ some months doing nothing. the other day the _walmer castle_, a fine indiaman, sir, was sent off at last--she had been in balaklava since february, doing nothing but affording comfortable lodgings for a few of the authorities. but we won't talk of these things any more, for really the arrangements are much improved." "who are those officers in blue, with grey, yellow, and red facing's--apparently men of rank, with stars and crowns and lace on their collars?" "they are of the land transport corps--captains and quartermasters of brigade." "hallo! is there a theatrical company here? who're the queer-looking chaps with the huntsmen-in-_der-freischutz_-caps and tunics, smoking short pipes, and driving their carts like so many jehus?" "well, we have the zouave theatre and the sailors' theatre, but these men belong to colonel mcmurdo, and certainly they have let their hats get cruelly out of shape; they were neat enough and looked well while the rosettes were clean, but now----" "and who are the gentlemen in grey, with black braid and swords, and pouch-belts and telescopes--some new riflemen, eh?--capital dress for sharpshooters." "why, dear me, sir, don't you know those are harmless civilians, who neither wish to shoot any one or to be shot at themselves? they are civil engineers and civilians belonging to your recently formed army works corps." "hallo! here's another--what's he? a felt helmet with a spike in it and brass binding--a red frock with black braid--a big horse--a cavalry man, eh?" "well, he's one of the mounted staff corps, and he gets as much as an ensign in the line for being ready to go anywhere--when he's wanted." "who's that drunken fellow--an old soldier in the odd uniform, with medals on his breast?" "hush! he's the last one left of the ambulance corps. they cost a lot of money, and did some good, but mcmurdo won't have them now, unless he gets his own way with them, and----" "i beg your pardon, but who is that foreign officer in a white bournous, and attended by a brilliant staff of generals--him with the blue and silver stripe down his trousers i mean, and gold braid on his waistcoat, and a red and white cap; it must be pelissier?" "_that!_ why, that's m. soyer, _chef de nos batteries de cuisine_, and if you go and speak to him, you'll find he'll talk to you for several hours about the way your meat is wasted; and so i wish you good morning, sir, and every success in trade and commerce to enable you to pay all the gentlemen you have seen to-day, as well as a speedy entry into sebastopol." [sidenote: jack tar's theatre.] at one o'clock on the th august the camp was shaken by a prodigious explosion. a tumbrel, from which the french were discharging powder into one of the magazines near the mamelon, was struck by a shell, which bursting as it crashed through the roof of the carriage, ignited the cartridges; rounds, lbs each, exploded, shattering to atoms the magazine, and surrounding-works, and whirling in all directions over the face of the mamolen and beyond it, officers and men. of these, were killed upon the spot, and the rest were scorched and burnt, or wounded by splinters, stones, and the shot and shell which were thrown into the air by the fiery eruption. a bright moon lighted up the whole scene, and shed its rays upon a huge pillar of smoke and dust, which rose into the air from the mamelon, and, towering to an immense height, unfolded itself and let fall from its clustering waves of smoke and sulphurous vapour a black precipitate of earth, fine dust, and pebbles, mingled with miserable fragments, which dropped like rain upon the works below. there was silence for an instant, and but for an instant, as the sullen thunder rolled slowly away and echoed along the heights of inkerman and mackenzie. then the russians, leaping to their guns, cheered loudly, but their voices were soon smothered in the crash of the french and english batteries, which played fiercely upon their works. the russians replied, but they were unable to take any advantage of our mischance, owing to the firmness of the french in the advanced trenches, and the steadiness with which the cannonade was continued. the dark cloud hung like a pall for nearly an hour over the place, reddening every moment with the reflection of the flashes of the artillery, which boomed incessantly till dawn. the musketry was very heavy and fierce all along the advanced trenches, and as no one except those in the parallels near the mamelon knew the precise nature of the explosion, great anxiety was manifested to learn the truth. some persons asserted that the russians had sprung a mine--others, that the french had blown in the counterscarp of the malakoff--and with the very spot under their eyes, people were conjecturing wildly what had taken place; just like those at home, who did not hesitate to make the boldest assertions respecting the events which occurred in the crimea, and of which they knew neither the scene nor the circumstance. there were rumours that the garrison of sebastopol was in an extremely disorganized state. the losses in the town were frightful, and notwithstanding their official and non-official declarations, the russians suffered from want of water and of spirits. indeed, it was confidently affirmed that, owing to the deficiency of forage, their cavalry had been compelled to fall back on the road to bakschiserai. they threw up another battery, close to the spur battery, commanding a small path from the tchernaya. the french constructed strong redoubts on the site of the old redoubts in the plain. these works were in connection with the outer line of defence from kamara, traktir, and tchorgoun, and the sardinian and turkish batteries towards baidar, and behind them were the old batteries defending balaklava, which became one of the strongest positions in the world. our allies were losing heavily, in the white works, which they captured on the th of june, where they lost one-half of the men who went into it every day. the -gun battery on the north side took them in flank and reverse, the malakoff enfiladed them on the other side, and they were exposed to the direct fire of the shipping in front. they called the place "l'abattoir." our own losses were very heavy, but still the army were full of hope and courage. as for jack tar, he can speak for himself. this was the bill of his play:-- theatre royal, naval brigade. on friday evening, st of august, will be performed deaf as a post! to be followed by the silent woman. the whole to conclude with the laughable farce, entitled, slasher and crasher. seats to be taken at o'clock. performance to commence precisely at o'clock. god save the queen! rule britannia! and right well they played. true, the theatre was the amputating house of the brigade, but no reflections as to its future and past use marred the sense of present enjoyment. the scenes were furnished from the _london_, the actors from the brigade. there was an agreeable ballet girl, who had to go into the trenches to work a -pounder at three o'clock in the morning, and rosa was impersonated by a prepossessing young boatswain's mate. songs there were in plenty, with a slight smack of the forecastle, and a refrain of big guns booming down the ravine from the front; but they were all highly appreciated, and the dancing was pronounced to be worthy of her majesty's ere terpsichore and mr. lumley retired. nor were fashionable and illustrious personages wanting to grace the performance with their presence, and to relieve the mass of , commoners who cheered and laughed and applauded so good-humouredly. the "duke of newcastle" paid marked attention to _deaf as a post_, and led the _encore_ for a hornpipe. lord rokeby was as assiduous as his grace. the sense of enjoyment was not marred by the long-range guns, which now and then sent a lobbing shot near the theatre; and if the audience were amused, so were the performers, who acted with surprising spirit and taste. what would old benbow or grim old cloudesley shovell have thought of it all? there was a sortie early on the morning of the st of september on the advanced trenches of our right attack, and the russians kept up a very heavy fire upon our working parties. [sidenote: proposed decoration for trench service.] as the crisis of the siege approached, it was affirmed that the enemy were about to try the chances of war once more, in one grand attack, at three or four points between baidar and the gorge of inkerman, and to make a sortie in force on our works. prince gortschakoff, generals liprandi, paniutin, and osten-sacken were mentioned as the generals of the attacking columns. the mass was concentrated on the plateau between kamishli and kalankoi, on the south side of the belbek, supported by divisions echeloned on the road to bakschiserai. near kalankoi a bad and difficult mountain road to balaklava crosses the belbek; strikes off to the right to mackenzie's farm; descending thence from the plateau, crosses the tchernaya at the bridge of the traktir, and sweeps across the plain of balaklava, intersecting in its course the woronzoff road. several paths or indifferent roads branch from this grand causeway ere it descends the plateau of mackenzie's farm, leading by chuliou and ozenbasch towards baidar, and it was thought that the russians might have put these in tolerable condition, and rendered them available for the passage of troops and artillery. the russians concentrated considerable masses in and about upu, ozenbasch, and chuliou, and prince gortschakoff visited the army destined to operate against the turks, french, and sardinians on the rear, and was prodigal of promises and encouragement. the intelligence received by the english, french, and turkish generals coincided on these points, and was believed to be entirely trustworthy. it seemed incredible that any general would trust his army among those defiles and mountain-passes, because a failure on the part of the corps on his right to seize tchorgoun and kamara would have left him without support, and an active enemy could have easily pursued and crushed him before he could have possibly gained the plateau from which he had descended. nothing would have given such universal satisfaction to the whole army as another attempt by the enemy to force our position. if the russians descended into the plain we were sure of success, and the prospect of a sanguinary engagement gave positive pleasure to both officers and men, alike weary of the undistinguished, if not inglorious, service of the trenches. with nearly , english, and upwards of , french sabres, we should have made signal examples of our defeated foes in their retreat; and our field guns, all in high efficiency and order, together with the admirable batteries of the french, would have annihilated any artillery which the russians could have placed in position. as to their cavalry, they were inferior in number to our own, and in dash and pluck they could not have matched the men who charged at balaklava. as to a sortie, although it might have been made with large bodies of men, it had no better chance of success, for our reserves had been kept in readiness to act at once, and the force in the trenches was greatly augmented. it had been our practice to send only , men into the trenches of the left attack, of which one-half was of the reserve; and, as the latter were allowed to go back to camp in the day, it frequently happened that only men were left to guard the whole of our extensive works in chapman's attack. but afterwards our force was increased, and the reserves were maintained in all their integrity, so as to be ready to give efficient support to the trench guard should the enemy make any serious demonstration against our lines. i took the opportunity of referring to this matter to make the following remarks, which many officers at the time assured me conveyed their feelings on the subject: "and here i may be permitted to offer one word on behalf of such officers and men as have not had an opportunity of sharing the honours conferred on those who have been so fortunate as to be engaged in general actions during this war. i am certain that there is a very general feeling in the army that there should be some distinctive decoration for 'service in the trenches.' men have been decorated for the battles of the alma, inkerman, and balaklava, who were not in the least danger, or even more under fire than if they had remained in their club card-room; but no man goes into the trenches who is not exposed to a heavy fire and to continual danger. the adjutant-general's returns will show that in a fortnight we lose nearly as many officers and men as are put _hors de combat_ in a regular battle, although it will be observed that the proportion of officers to men killed and wounded is far smaller than it is on occasions of drawn battle. a man who has served thirty nights in the trenches will have undergone more fire than if he had been in the hottest fight of the campaign. why not let him have a decoration, were it only a bit of iron with the words 'trenches before sebastopol' engraved upon it? the arduous nature of our trench service is best indicated by our returns, and by the fact that many young officers who come out from england are rendered unfit or unable to discharge their duties after a few weeks' experience. although there are many complaints of the rawness of the recruits, they are as nothing compared to the outcry against the crudity of the lads who are despatched as 'officers' to the crimea, and who perforce must be sent in responsible positions into the trenches. a reference to the daily general orders will satisfy any one of the truthfulness of that outcry. the number of officers who sicken and are ordered home, or to scutari, or to go on board ship, is increasing, and it is not found that the recently arrived regiments furnish the smallest portion of those worn out by _ennui_, and reduced from good health to a state of illness by a few days' service. the old officers, of course, grumble, and the grim veterans who have remained with their regiments since the beginning of the campaign are indignant at having as comrades puling boys, who, from no fault of their own, are utterly helpless and inefficient, and soon sicken, and leave the duties of the regiment to be performed by their overworked seniors. why should not vacancies in regiments out here be filled up from regiments stationed elsewhere? such a course was pursued in the chinese war, in our indian wars, and i believe in the long war, and it secured the services of experienced soldiers. there are many ensigns of four, five, and six years' standing in the latter regiments, while it would be difficult to find many lieutenants who have seen so much service in any regiment which has been here since the beginning of the war. "with all our experience we still permit the existence of absurdities and anomalies. about doctors are sick from overwork or of disgust, and yet we have civil hospitals on the dardanelles, maintained at some expense, in which the medical men have so little to do that they come up to camp to 'tout' for patients and practice. the surgeons say that, as it is very evident government will never give them any honour or reward, except mere service promotion and pay, they will look to the latter alone, and it may be easily imagined in what frame of mind they will serve in cases where they can escape the necessity of energetic exertion. with a kind of refined irony, two of the medical officers were 'invited to attend' at the investiture of the k.c.b.'s the other day, as none of them were eligible as c.b.'s. two commissariat officers were kindly invited to represent their body. these complaints are the echoes of voices in the camp, loud enough to be heard, and as such i report them." the sardinians, acclimatized, flushed with triumph, and anxious for another opportunity to try their steel, formed a fine corps of about , effective bayonets, and the turks could turn out about , strong. the french, notwithstanding their losses in the capture of the mamelon, in the assault on the th of june, and, above all, in the trenches, where they had on an average _hors de combat_ on "quiet nights," and perhaps twice as many when the enemy were busy, could present , bayonets to the enemy. [sidenote: effective ruse of the russians.] from the french sap in front of the mamelon one could at this period _lay his hand on the abattis of the malakoff_! it was a hazardous experiment sometimes. major graham lost his arm in trying it _en amateur_, for he was hit as he was returning up the trench; indeed, it was a subject of remark that amateurs and officers who had then recently come into the trenches were more frequently hit than was consistent with the rules of proportion. mr. gambier, a midshipman of the _curaçoa_, went as an amateur into the advanced parallel of the left attack, and took a shot at a russian rifleman; he was rewarded by a volley from several of the enemy, and in another instant was going up on a stretcher, with a ball through both his thighs. it was a very common thing to hear it said, "poor smith is killed; just imagine--his first night in the trenches." "jones lost a leg last night; only joined us this week, and his second night on duty," &c. the russians, of course, suffered in the same way, but i doubt if they had many amateurs. they had quite enough of legitimate fighting, and their losses were prodigious. on the rd of september, at a quarter past p.m., a heavy fire of musketry to the left of the malakoff showed that the enemy were attacking. the night was dark, but clear, and for half an hour our lines were a blaze of quick, intermittent light. the musketry rattled incessantly. chapman's and gordon's batteries opened with all their voices, and the redan, malakoff, garden, and barrack batteries replied with roars of ordnance. when the musketry fire flickered and died out, commenced for a quarter of an hour a general whirling of shells, so that the light of the very stars was eclipsed, and their dominion usurped by the wandering flight of these iron orbs. twenty or thirty of these curves of fire tearing the air asunder and uttering their shrill "tu whit! tu whit! tu whit!" as they described their angry flight in the sky, could be counted and heard at once. while it lasted, it was one of the hottest affairs we have yet experienced. a party of the th, under captain hutton, was posted in the advanced trench of the left of the right attack. the russians attacked our working party and drove it in. lieutenant brinkley and lieutenant preston, with of the th, were ordered to proceed to the right of the new sap. on arriving at the trench they found it crowded with the rd, that it was impossible to keep the party of the th together. this crowded state of the trench is said to have arisen from the rd not having recommenced working, and remaining in the trench with the covering party of the th, when the firing ceased. at . lieutenant-colonel legh, th, was ordered to take his men to colonel bunbury, rd, who was in advance of the new sap. he collected forty-five rank and file, and telling lieutenant preston to advance with the rest, proceeded to the head of the sap. here lieutenant preston was hit, and one man killed. about fifteen yards in front of the sap were stationed colonel bunbury and a party of the th, under captain pechell. that party having been relieved by the th, colonel legh placed his men in cover, sending out two parties under sergeants coleman and o'grady in advance. the russians all of a sudden gave a loud cheer, and the th stood up, expecting a rush. when the russians saw the effect of their ruse, they fired a volley, lieutenant preston, in front of colonel legh, was mortally wounded, and carried to the rear by sergeant coleman; sergeant o'grady fell dead just as he had demanded permission to take the enemy's rifle-pits. lieutenants ware and whitehead were sent down to assist. ware was wounded; but lieutenant whitehead succeeded in bringing in all the wounded, except corporal macks, who was lying close to the rifle-pit with two legs broken. lieutenant brinkley came up in support. the russians retired from the pits before dawn, having put officers and men _hors de combat_. the russians lost at least men. the french loss was upwards of men _hors de combat_. chapter v. last bombardment--splendid view of the position from cathcart's hill--french signal for the attack--an iron storm--paralysation of the russians--strength of french and english batteries--furious and rapid cannonade--perturbed movements amongst russians--joy on cathcart's hill--"ships touched at last!"--one descried to be on fire--conjectures amongst spectators as to the cause--agitation in sebastopol--partial silence of russian guns--awful explosion--council of generals--british losses. at last, on the morning of the th of september, the allied batteries opened fire for the sixth time, and the last bombardment commenced. a gentle breeze from the south-east, which continued all day, drifted over the steppe, and blew gently into sebastopol. the sun shone serenely through the vapours of early morning and wreaths of snowy clouds, on the long lines of white houses inside those rugged defences of earth and gabionnade which have so long kept our armies gazing in vain on this "august city." the ships floated on the waters of the roads, which were smooth as a mirror, and reflected the forms of these "monarchs of the main." outside our own fleet and that of the french were reposing between kasatch and constantine as idly as though they were "painted ships upon a painted ocean." [sidenote: a terrific and "squelching" volley.] from cathcart's hill, therefore, on the right front of the fourth division camp, one could gain an admirable view of certain points of the position from the sea on the left to our extreme right at inkerman. that advantage was, however, rarely obtainable when there was any heavy firing, as the smoke generally hung in thick clouds between the earthworks, not to be easily dispelled, excepting by the aid of a brisk wind. if one of the few persons who were in the secret of the opening of the french batteries had been on cathcart's hill on the morning of the th he would have beheld then, just before half-past five o'clock, the whole of this scene marked out in keen detail in the clear morning air. the men in our trenches might have been seen sitting down behind the traverses, or strolling about in the rear of the parapets. small trains of animals and files of men might have been continually observed passing over the ground between the trenches and the camp, and the only smoke that caught the eye rose from the kettles of the soldiery, or from the discharge of a rifle in the advanced works. on the left, however, the french trenches were crowded with men, and their batteries were all manned, though the occupants kept well out of sight of the enemy, and the mantlets and screens were down before the muzzles of some of their guns. the men beneath the parapets swarmed like bees. a few grey-coated russians might have been noticed repairing the works of the flagstaff battery, or engaged in throwing up a new work, which promised to be of considerable strength, in front of the second line of their defences. suddenly, close to the bastion du mât, along the earthen curtain between nos. and bastions, three jets of flame sprang up into the air and hurled up as many pillars of earth and dust, a hundred feet high, which were warmed into ruddy hues by the horizontal rays of the sun. the french had exploded three fougasses to blow in the counterscarp, and to serve as a signal to their men. in a moment, from the sea to the dockyard creek, a stream of fire three miles in length seemed to run like a train from battery to battery, and fleecy, curling, rich white smoke ascended, as though the earth had suddenly been rent in the throes of an earthquake, and was vomiting forth the material of her volcanoes. the lines of the french trenches were at once covered as though the very clouds of heaven had settled down upon them, and were whirled about in spiral jets, in festoons, in clustering bunches, in columns and in sheets, all commingled, involved together, and uniting as it were by the vehement flames beneath. the crash of such a tremendous fire must have been appalling, but the wind and the peculiar condition of the atmosphere did not permit the sound to produce any great effect in our camp; in the city, for the same reason, the noise must have been terrific and horrible. the iron storm tore over the russian lines, tossing up, as if in sport, jets of earth and dust, rending asunder gabions, and "squelching" the parapets, or dashing in amongst the houses and ruins in their rear. the terrible files of this flying army, extending about four miles in front, rushed across the plain, carrying death and terror in their train, swept with heavy and irresistible wings the russian flanks, and searched their centre to the core. a volley so startling, simultaneous, and tremendously powerful, was probably never before discharged since cannon were introduced. the russians seemed for a while utterly paralysed. their batteries were not manned with strength enough to enable them to reply to such an overlapping and crushing fire; but the french, leaping to their guns with astounding energy, rapidity, and vigour, kept on filling the very air with the hurling storm, and sent it in unbroken fury against their enemies. more than pieces of artillery of large calibre, admirably served and well directed, played incessantly upon the hostile lines. in a few moments a great veil of smoke--"a war-cloud rolling dun"--spread from the guns on the left of sebastopol; but the roar of the shot did not cease, and the cannonade now pealed forth in great irregular bursts, now died away into hoarse murmurs, again swelled up into tumult, or rattled from one extremity to the other of the line like the file-fire of infantry. stone walls at once went down before the discharge, but the earthworks yawned to receive shot and shell alike. however, so swift and incessant was the passage of these missiles through the embrasures and along the top of the parapets, that the enemy had to lie close, and scarcely dare show themselves in the front line of their defences. for a few minutes the french had it all their own way, and appeared to be on the point of sweeping away the place without resistance. this did not last long, as after, they had fired a few rounds from each of their numerous guns, the russian artillerymen got to work, and began to return the fire. they made good practice, but fired slowly and with precision, as if they could not afford to throw away an ounce of powder. the french were stimulated rather than restrained by such a reply to their astonishing volleys, and sent their shot with greater rapidity along the line of the defences, and among the houses of the town. our naval brigade and siege train maintained their usual destructive and solid "hammering" away at the faces of the redan and of the malakoff, and aided our allies by shell practice on the batteries from the creek to the redan. now two or three mortars from gordon's, then two or three mortars from chapman's, hurled and -inch shell behind the enemy's works, and connected the discharges by rounds from long 's or 's. the french had obtained a great superiority in the number of their guns. on the th their armament was as follows:-- french batteries. guns. left attack.--against flagstaff-bastion " " central " " " quarantine " ---- right attack.--against malakoff, &c. ---- total french english batteries. guns. -inch mortars -inch " -inch " cohorns -inch guns -inch " -pounders -pounders ---- total english [sidenote: comparison between former and present armaments.] it may be as well to add that batteries nos. , , , , , , and of the right attack bore on the malakoff; batteries nos. , , , and bore on front and flanks of redan and other works. in our left attack, batteries nos. , , , , , , bore on barrack and redan; no. on bastion du mât and garden; no. on redan; no. on creek; no. on garden; no. on barrack and lower garden; no. on creek, barrack, redan, and malakoff; no. on garden and barrack; and no. on creek and parrack. it will be observed that there was a great difference in the material of this armament from that with which we began our first attack on sebastopol. on the th of october, , we had but ten mortars, and they were -inch. we had also two lancasters; no -pounders. on th of october nearly one-half of our guns were -pounders. sixty-one -pounders as compared with seven on th october, thirty-seven -inch guns as compared with sixteen, seven -inch guns as compared with nine, six -pounders, and three -pounders for the heads of the saps. we threw , bombs into the town as compared with , in the first bombardment; and we fired , shot against the place as compared with , on the same date. in the left attack our batteries had been advanced , feet towards the front of the old line of fire, but it was impossible to make any further advance by sap for the purpose of assault, as the very steep ravine by which the woronzoff road sweeps into the town ran below the plateau on which the attack was placed, and separated it from the redan. the old parallel of the attack, wherein our batteries nos. , , and were placed at the ridiculous distance of , feet from the redan, and our batteries nos. and at the same distance from the flagstaff bastion works, was now a mere base from which the advanced works had proceeded. the second parallel was , feet in front of it, and in that parallel were batteries nos. and , still , feet from the parapet of the redan. the third parallel was about feet in front of the second; and as it was found that we could not hope to advance much beyond that position, owing to the nature of the ground, our batteries were placed more towards the proper left face of the flagstaff battery, and towards the garden battery in the rear of it. in this parallel, batteries nos. , , , , and were opened. our fourth parallel, which was unarmed, was about feet in advance of the third, and was filled with infantry and riflemen, who kept up a constant fire on the place, more particularly at night. the ravine in which the woronzoff road is made ran between our left and right attack, and separated them completely. the right attack, which was by far the most important, was originally commenced at the distance of , feet from the redan, and of more than , feet from the malakoff. it contained batteries nos. , , , , ; at its right was the old lancaster battery detached on no. ; and in an advanced parallel on the left flank of no. was battery no. . in the approach from the first to the twentieth parallel was battery no. . the second parallel was more than , feet in front of the first parallel; and it contained batteries nos. , , , , and . the battery no. was in the third parallel, which was a few hundred feet in advance of the second. the fourth parallel, which communicated with the quarries, was about , feet in advance of the third parallel. in the quarries were the batteries nos. and . the fifth parallel, from which the assault took place, was about feet in front of the quarries; and there was a feeble attempt at a sixth parallel a few yards in advance. our quarry battery, armed with two mortars and eight cohorns, just yards below the redan, plied the suburb in the rear of the malakoff vigorously with bombs, and kept the top of the redan clear with round shot and grape. redan and malakoff were alike silent, ragged, and torn. at most the redan fired three guns, and the adjoining batteries were equally parsimonious. the parapets were all pitted with shot and shell, and the sides of the embrasures greatly injured, so that the gabions were sticking out, and dislodged in all directions. there was no more of that fine polishing and of that cabinet-maker's work which the russians bestowed on their batteries; our constant fire by night, the efforts of our riflemen, and incessant shelling, having rather checked their assiduous anxiety as to external appearance. after two hours and a half of furious firing, the artillerymen of our allies suddenly ceased, in order to let their guns cool and to rest themselves. the russians crept out to repair damages to their works, and shook sandbags full of earth from the banquette over the outside of their parapets. their gunners also took advantage of the sudden cessation to open on our sailors' batteries in the left attack, and caused us some little annoyance from the "crow's nest." at ten o'clock, however, having previously exploded some fougasses, as before, the french reopened a fire if possible more rapid and tremendous than their first, and continued to keep it up with the utmost vigour till twelve o'clock at noon, by which time the russians had only a few guns in the flagstaff road and garden batteries in a position to reply. we could see them in great agitation sending men and carts to and fro across the bridge, and at nine o'clock a powerful column of infantry crossed over to resist our assault, while a movement towards inkerman was made by the army of the belbek. soon after our fire began, the working parties which go over to the north side every morning were recalled, and marched back again across the bridge to the south, no doubt to be in readiness for our expected assault. from twelve to five o'clock p.m. the firing was slack; the french then resumed their cannonade with the same vigour as at dawn and at ten o'clock, and never ceased their volleys of shot and shell against the place till half-past seven, when darkness set in, whereupon all the mortars and heavy guns, english as well as french, opened with shell against the whole line of defences. [sidenote: surmises as to origin of conflagration.] a description of this scene is impossible. there was not one instant in which the shells did not whistle through the air; not a moment in which the sky was not seamed by their fiery curves or illuminated by their explosion. every shell burst as it ought, and the lines of the russian earthworks of the redan, malakoff, and of all their batteries, were rendered plainly visible by the constant light of the innumerable explosions. the russians scarcely attempted a reply. at five o'clock it was observed that a frigate in the second line, near the north side, was smoking, and, as it grew darker, flames were seen to issue from her sides. men and officers rushed to the front in the greatest delight and excitement, and, as night came on, the whole vessel was enveloped in one grand blaze from stem to stern. the delight of the crowd upon cathcart's hill was intense. "well, this is indeed a sight! to see one of those confounded ships touched at last!" these, and many different and stronger expressions, were audible on all sides, but there were some wise people who thought the russians had set the ship on fire, or that incendiaries and malcontents were at work, and one gentleman even went so far as to say that he "thought it was merely a signal maybe to recall their cavalry from eupatoria!" it is not known precisely how the thing was done. some said it was done by the french; others, by ourselves; and bombs, red-hot shot, and rockets were variously named as the means by which the vessel was set on fire. in spite of the efforts of the russians, the flames spread, and soon issued from the ports and quarter-gallery. at eight o'clock the light was so great that the houses of the city and the forts on the other side could be distinguished without difficulty. the masts stood long, towering aloft like great pillars of fire; but one after the other they came down; the decks fell in about ten o'clock, and at midnight the frigate had burnt to the water's edge. at night a steady fire was kept up with the view of preventing the russians repairing damages. at p.m. orders were sent to our batteries to open the following morning, as soon as there was a good light, but they were limited to fifty rounds each gun. at . a.m. the whole of the batteries from quarantine to inkerman began their fire with a grand crash. there were three breaks or lulls in the tempest; one from half-past eight till ten; another from twelve till five; and the third from half-past six till seven--during these intervals the fire was comparatively slack. the agitation in the town was considerable throughout the day; and the enemy seemed to be greatly distressed. they were strengthening their position on the north side--throwing up batteries, dragging guns into position, and preparing to defend themselves should they be obliged to leave the city. they evinced a disposition to rely upon the north side, and were removing their stores by the large bridge of pontoons, and by the second and smaller bridge of boats to the karabalnayia. notwithstanding the large number of men in the town, the enemy showed in strength from inkerman to mackenzie; and general pelissier and general simpson received intelligence which led them to believe that the enemy meditated another attack on the line of the tchernaya as the only means of averting the fall of the place. the bombardment was renewed on thursday night at sunset, and continued without intermission till an hour before daybreak on friday. the trench guards were ordered to keep up a perpetual fusillade on the face of the russian works, and about , rounds were expended each night after the opening of the bombardment. at daybreak on friday, the cannonade was reopened, and continued as before--the russians made no reply on the centre, but their inkerman batteries fired on the french right attack. a strong wind from the north blew clouds of dust from the town, and carried back the smoke of the batteries, so that it was very difficult to ascertain the effect of the fire; but now and then the veil opened, and at each interval the amount of destruction disclosed was more evident. a bright flame broke out in the rear of the redan in the afternoon, and another fire was visible in the town over the woronzoff road at a later period of the evening. at p.m. a tremendous explosion took place in the town, but it could not be ascertained exactly where or how it occurred. at dusk, the cannonade ceased, and the bombardment recommenced--the thunder of the bombs bursting from the sea-shore to the tchernaya sounded like the roll of giant musketry. the russians replied feebly, threw bouquets into the french trenches, and showers of vertical grape into ours, and lighted up the works now and then with fire-balls and carcasses. captain john buckley, scots fusileer guards, was killed in the evening as he was posting his sentries in the ravine between the malakoff and the redan in front of our advanced trench of the right attack. major mcgowan, rd regiment, was taken prisoner, and captain drummond was killed soon afterwards at this spot. captain buckley was a young officer of zeal and promise. he was devoted to his profession, and although he was wounded so severely at the alma that he could have had every excuse and right to go home, he refused to do so, and as soon as he came out of hospital, on board a man-of-war, in which he was present when the attack of the th october was made, he returned to his regiment and shared its privations during the winter of ' - . in twenty-four hours, we lost officer rank and file killed, and rank and file wounded. in addition to the burning ship and the fires in the town, a bright light was observed at the head of the great shears of the dockyard about four o'clock in the afternoon, and it continued to burn fiercely throughout the night. it was probably intended to light up the dockyard below, or to serve as a signal, but it was for some time imagined that the shears had been set on fire by a shell.[ ] the night was passed in a fever of expectation and anxiety amid the roar of the bombardment, which the wind blew in deafening bursts back on the allied camp. [sidenote: fall of sebastopol.] at midday, a council of generals was held at the british headquarters. after the council broke up, orders were sent to the surgeons to clear out the hospitals of patients, and prepare for the reception of wounded. the guards received orders to occupy the right trenches at night, and were relieved by the highlanders in the morning--the attack was confided to the light and second divisions. our losses indeed were becoming so heavy, that even the slaughter of an assault, if attended with success, was preferable to daily decimation. from the rd to the th, we had officers, sergeants, and rank and file killed; officers, sergeants, and rank and file wounded. captain anderson, acting engineer, was killed on the th; and captain snow, r.a., was killed on the th. on the rd, lieutenant chatfield, th; on the th, captain verschoyle, grenadier guards, and lieutenant phillips, th regiment, were slightly wounded. chapter vi. preparations for the assault--last and decisive cannonade--day of the assault--plan of attack--position of generals--french rush into the malakoff--english charge the redan--mistakes--desperate struggle--colonel windham's gallantry--conflict at the left face of the redan--scene at the salient--want of supports--colonel windham goes for reinforcements--the russians advance--failure of the english attack--contest in the rear of the malakoff--additional details--cause of the repulse--mistakes--casualties--duration of the attack--ominous signs--losses in the assault. the contest on which the eyes of europe had been turned so long--the event on which the hopes of so many mighty empires depended, was all but determined. on the th september, sebastopol was in flames! the fleet, the object of so much diplomatic controversy and of so many bloody struggles, had disappeared in the deep! one more great act of carnage was added to the tremendous but glorious tragedy, of which the whole world, from the most civilized nations down to the most barbarous hordes of the east, was the anxious and excited audience. amid shouts of victory and cries of despair--in frantic rejoicing and passionate sorrow--a pall of black smoke, streaked by the fiery flashings of exploding fortresses, descended upon the stage, on which had been depicted so many varied traits of human misery and of human greatness, such high endurance and calm courage, such littleness and weakness--across which had stalked characters which history may hereafter develope as largely as the struggle in which they were engaged, and swell to gigantic proportions, or which she may dwarf into pettiest dimensions, as unworthy of the parts they played. a dull, strange silence, broken at distant intervals by the crash of citadels and palaces as they were blown into dust, succeeded to the incessant dialogue of the cannon which had spoken so loudly and so angrily throughout an entire year. tired armies, separated from each other by a sea of fires, rested on their arms, and gazed with varied emotions on all that remained of the object of their conflicts. on the th we felt that the great success of our valiant allies was somewhat tarnished by our own failure, and were doubtful whether the russians would abandon all hope of retaking the malakoff. on the next day, ere noon, we were walking about the streets of sebastopol, and gazing upon its ruins. the weather changed suddenly on the th september, and on the morning of the th it became bitterly cold. a biting wind right from the north side of sebastopol blew intolerable clouds of harsh dust into our faces. the sun was obscured; and the sky became of a leaden wintry grey. early in the morning a strong force of cavalry, under the command of colonel hodge, received orders to move up to the front and form a chain of sentries in front of cathcart's hill, and all along our lines. no person was allowed to pass this boundary excepting staff officers or those provided with a pass. another line of sentries in the rear of the camps was intended to stop stragglers and idlers from balaklava, the object of these arrangements being in all probability to prevent the russians gathering any intimation of our attack from the unusual accumulation of people on the look-out hills. if so, it would have been better to have kept the cavalry more in the rear, and not to have displayed to the enemy a line of hussars, lancers, and dragoons, along our front. at . the highland brigade, under brigadier cameron, marched up from kamara, and took up its position in reserve at the right attack; and the guards, also in reserve, were posted on the same side of the woronzoff road. the first brigade of the fourth division served the trenches of the left attack the night before, and remained in them. the second brigade of the fourth division was in reserve. the guards, who served the trenches of the left attack, and only marched that morning, were turned out again after arriving at their camp, and resumed their place with alacrity. the third division, massed on the hill-side before their camp, were also in reserve, in readiness to move down by the left attack in case their services were required. general pelissier, during the night, collected , men in and about the mamelon, to form the storming columns for the malakoff and little redan, and to provide the necessary reserves. [sidenote: a fearful struggle.] the french were reinforced by , sardinians, who marched up from the tchernaya. it was arranged that the french should attack the malakoff at noon, and, as soon as their attack succeeded, we were to assault the redan. strong columns of french were to make a diversion on the left, and menace the line of bastion du mât, centrale and quarantine bastions. the cavalry sentries were posted at . a.m. at . a.m. the second and the light division moved down to the trenches, and were placed in the advanced parallels as quietly and unostentatiously as possible. about the same hour, general simpson and staff repaired to the second parallel of the green hill battery, where the engineer officers had placed them for the day. sir harry jones, too ill to move hand or foot, nevertheless insisted on being carried down to witness the assault, and was borne to the trenches on a litter, in which he remained till all was over. the commander-in-chief, general simpson, and sir richard airey, the quartermaster-general, were stationed close to him.[ ] the duke of newcastle was stationed at cathcart's hill in the early part of the day, and afterwards moved off to the right to the picket-house look-out over the woronzoff road. at . , general pelissier and his staff went up to the french observatory on the right. the french trenches were crowded with men as close as they could be packed, and we could, through the breaks in the clouds of dust, which were most irritating, see our troops all ready in their trenches. the cannonade languished purposely towards noon; but the russians, catching sight of the cavalry and troops in front, began to shell cathcart's hill and the heights, and the bombs and long ranges disturbed the equanimity of some of the spectators by bursting with loud "thuds" right over their heads, and sending "the gunners' pieces" sharply about them. after hours of suspense, the moment came at last. at five minutes before twelve o'clock, the french issued forth from the trenches close to the malakoff, crossed the seven mètres of ground which separated them from the enemy at a few bounds--scrambled up its face, and were through the embrasures in the twinkling of an eye. they drifted as lightly and quickly as autumn leaves before the wind, battalion after battalion, and in a minute after the head of their column issued from the ditch the tricolour was floating over the korniloff bastion. our allies took the russians by surprise, very few of the latter were in the malakoff; but they soon recovered themselves, from twelve o'clock till past seven in the evening the french had to meet repeated attempts to regain the work: then, weary of the fearful slaughter, despairing of success, the muscovite general withdrew his exhausted legions, and prepared, with admirable skill, to evacuate the place. as soon as the tricolour was observed waving through the smoke and dust over the parapet of the malakoff, four rockets were sent up from chapman's attack one after another, as a signal for our assault upon the redan. they were almost borne back by the violence of the wind, and the silvery jets of sparks they threw out on exploding were scarcely visible against the raw grey sky. now, it will be observed that, while we attacked the redan with two divisions only, a portion of each being virtually in reserve and not engaged in the affair at all, the french made their assault on the malakoff with four divisions of the second _corps d'armée_, the first and fourth divisions forming the storming columns, and the third and fifth being the support, with reserves of , men. the french had, probably, not less than , men in the right attack on the th of september. the divisional orders for the second division were very much the same as those for the light division. division orders. _june th, ._ . the light division being about to be employed with others in the attack on the redan, provisions will be issued and cooked this afternoon for to-morrow, and care must be taken that the men's canteens are filled with water this afternoon. each man will be provided with twenty rounds of additional ammunition, to be carried in his haversack. . the whole guard of the trenches will be furnished this evening from the nd brigade, and that portion of the brigade which is not so employed will be formed in the morning in the first parallel, to the right of the -gun battery, where it will be joined by the reserve of the trenches at daylight. . weakly men and recruits will be selected for the camp guards and general care of the camp, where they are to remain, and will be directed not to show themselves on the high ground in front. . the lieutenant-general having been charged with the columns of attack, the command of the light division will for the moment devolve on major-general codrington. . the officer in command of the guards of the trenches will take care to make such a disposition of his men as shall leave room for the additional troops which it is proposed shall be sent forward to the attack. . the right attack will be made by the st brigade, under colonel yea, th royal fusileers, in the following order:-- of nd battalion rifle brigade, under captain forman, to form the covering party. the th regiment, consisting of men, under captain guilt, the attacking party. the support, under the command of lieutenant-colonel lysons-- men of the th fusileers, of the rd regiment, and of the rd royal welsh fusileers. working party, under the command of major macdonell-- of the nd battalion rifle brigade. division orders. _september th, ._ [sidenote: division orders.] . the redan will be assaulted after the french have attacked the malakoff. the light and second divisions will share this important duty, each finding respectively the half of each party. the nd brigade of the light division, with an equal number of the second division, will form the first body of attack, each division furnishing, st, a covering party of men, under a field-officer; nd, a storming party, carrying ladders, of men, under a field-officer (these men to be selected for this especial duty--they will be the first to storm after they have placed the ladders); rd, a storming party of men, with two field-officers; th, a working party of men, with a field-officer. the support will consist of the remainder of the brigade, to be immediately in the rear. . the covering party will consist of rank and file of the nd battalion rifle brigade, under the command of captain thyers, and will be formed on the extreme left of the fifth parallel, ready to move out steadily in extended order towards the redan. their duty will be to cover the advance of the ladder party, and keep down the fire from the parapet. . the first storming party of the light division will consist of men of the th regiment, under the command of major welsford. this party will carry the ladders and will be the first to storm; they will be formed in the new boyeau running from the centre of the fifth parallel; they will form immediately in rear of the covering party. they must be good men and true to their difficult duty, which is to arrive at the ditch of the redan and place the ladders down it, to turn twenty ladders for others to come down by. . the next storming party will consist of of the th regiment, under the command of lieutenant-colonel the hon. h. hancock, and of the th regiment, under the command of captain grove. this party will be stationed in the fifth parallel, and will assault in columns of divisions at one place. the light division will lead the whole column of attack, which will be formed in divisions of twenty files, and so told off. . the supports, consisting of men of the th regiment and th regiment (with part of a brigade of the second division on their left), will be placed as they stand in brigade in the fourth parallel, from whence they will move into the fifth parallel as soon as the assault is made by those in front of them. . the working party of men will be furnished by the th regiment, under command of captain perrin, and will be placed in no. and left boyeau; they will afterwards receive their instructions from an officer of the royal engineers. . the remainder of the light and second divisions will form a reserve--the light division in the right boyeaus between the third and fourth parallels, the second division in the left boyeaus between the third and fourth parallels. . the first and highland divisions will be formed in that part of the third parallel in communication with the french right attack, and in the middle ravine. . two days' rations will be drawn and cooked, and issued to the men before a.m. to-morrow. . ten additional rounds of ammunition will be served out to each man on the private parades of regiments to-morrow morning. . the men will parade with red coats and forage caps: water-bottles to be quite full. . the covering party and first storming party will assemble at the usual place of meeting for the trenches, at a.m. the next storming party, the working party, the supports, and the reserve, will parade, respectively, at the same place, at intervals of half an hour. the covering party consisted of men of the rd buffs, under captain lewes, and men of the second battalion of the rifle brigade, under the command of captain hammond. the scaling-ladder party consisted of of the rd buffs, under captain maude, of the th regiment, under welsford. the force of the second division consisted of of the rd buffs, of the st, of the nd, and a working party of men of the st. the rest of windham's brigade, consisting of the th and th, were in reserve with warren's brigade of the same division, of which the th and th were called into action and suffered severely. brigadier shirley was on board ship, but as soon as he heard of the assault he came up to camp. colonel unett, of the th regiment, was the senior officer in shirley's absence, and on him would have devolved the duty of leading the storming column of the light division. colonel unett tossed with colonel windham, and colonel unett won. he looked at the shilling, turned it over, and said, "my choice is made; i'll be the first man into the redan." but he was badly wounded ere he reached the abattis, although he was not leading the column. it was a few minutes after twelve when our men left the fifth parallel. in less than five minutes the troops, passing over about two hundred and thirty yards from the approach to the parapet of the redan, had lost a large proportion of their officers. the riflemen behaved, as usual, admirably; but could not do much to reduce the fire of the guns on the flanks and below the re-entering angles. as they came nearer, the fire became less fatal. they crossed the abattis without difficulty; it was torn to pieces and destroyed by our shot, and the men stepped over and through it with ease. the light division made straight for the salient and projecting angle of the redan, and came to the ditch, at this place about fifteen feet deep. the men, led by their officers, leaped into the ditch, and scrambled up the other side, whence they scaled the parapet almost without opposition; for the few russians who were in front ran back and got behind their traverses and breastworks, and opened fire upon them as soon as they saw our men on the top. as the light division rushed out into the open, the guns of the barrack battery, and on the proper right of the redan, loaded with grape, caused considerable loss ere they reached the salient. [sidenote: a scaling party.] brigadier shirley, blinded by dust knocked into his eyes by a shot, was obliged to retire; his place was taken by lieutenant-colonel bunbury, of the rd regiment, next in rank to colonel unett, already carried to the rear. brigadier von straubenzee received a contusion on the face, and left the field. colonel handcock was mortally wounded. captain hammond fell dead. major welsford was killed as he entered the work through an embrasure. captain grove was severely wounded. only colonel windham, captain fyers, captain lewes, and captain maude got into the redan scatheless from the volleys of grape and balls which swept the flanks of the work. one officer told me the russians visible in the redan when we got into it did not exceed men, that we could have carried the breastworks at the base with the greatest ease, if we had only made a rush for it. he expressed his belief that they had no field-pieces from one re-entering angle to the other. another officer positively assured me that when he got on the top of the parapet he saw, about a hundred yards in advance, a breastwork with gaps, through which were the muzzles of field-pieces, and that in rear of it were compact masses of infantry, the front rank kneeling with fixed bayonets as if prepared to receive a charge of cavalry, while the rear ranks kept up a sharp and destructive fire. the only way to reconcile these discrepancies is to suppose that the first spoke of the earliest stage of the assault, and that the latter referred to a later period, when the russians, having been reinforced by the fugitives from the malakoff, and by the troops behind the barracks in the rear, may have opened embrasures in the breastwork. lamentable as it no doubt is, and incredible almost to those who know how well the british soldier generally behaves in presence of the enemy, the men, when they reached the parapet, were seized by some strange infatuation, and began firing, instead of following their officers, who were now falling fast. most men stand fire much better than the bayonet--they will keep up a fusillade a few paces off much sooner than they will close with an enemy. it is difficult enough sometimes to get cavalry to charge, if they can find any decent excuse to lay by their swords and take to pistol and carabine, with which they are content to pop away for ever; and when cover of any kind is near, a trench-bred infantry-man finds the charms of the cartridge quite irresistible. the th regiment furnished men for the ladder party, and for the storming party. the former, under the command of major welsford, were to proceed to the advanced parallel, and the latter, under the command of lieutenant-colonel handcock, were to be in the fifth parallel. at a.m. the regiment paraded and marched off. eight men were told off to each ladder, and they had orders to leave the trench when the appointed signal was made from the malakoff. they were to be preceded by of the rifle brigade, and by some sappers and miners to cut down the abattis, and they were to be followed by of the rd buffs, with twenty ladders also. the storming party was to follow the ladder party. a few minutes after twelve, major welsford, seeing the signal flying from the malakoff, gave the word--"ladders to the front!" the men instantly ran out of the parallel towards the salient of the redan, and at the same time, colonel handcock, with his stormers of the th, and of the th, left the parallel. the ladders were managed with difficulty, but on entering the place there was little or no resistance. however, the russians were soon roused out of their casemates, and flocked to the traverses, from which they kept up a heavy fire on the men getting over the parapet or through the embrasures. by a rapidly increasing flanking and direct fire, converging on the salient, the russians diminished our force; and as we were weakened they were strengthened by parties from both re-entering angles. the leader of the ladder party was killed by a gun fired as he entered the embrasure; captain sibthorpe was hit in two places; lieutenant fitzgerald and ensign hill were wounded; lieutenant-colonel handcock was mortally wounded; m'gregor fell inside the redan; captain lumley was badly wounded; lieutenant goodenough died of his wounds; captain woods and lieutenant browne were also hit,--so that the th regiment had five officers killed and six wounded, out of a complement of thirteen engaged; and non-commissioned officers and men out of . those officers of the regiment who saw colonel windham in the redan say they were in ten minutes before they observed him. the rd buffs and st came in through the embrasures immediately after the th and th, then the enemy made their rush, and drove the english into the angle, and finally over the parapet to the exterior slope, where men of different regiments of the light and second divisions were packed together firing into the redan. one hour and a half had elapsed. the russians had cleared the redan, but were not in possession of the parapets, when they made a second charge with bayonets under a heavy fire of musketry from the rear, and throwing quantities of stones, grape and round-shot, drove those in front back on the men in the rear, who were precipitated into the ditch. the gabions in the parapets gave way, and rolled down with those upon them; the men in the rear retired precipitately into the fifth parallel. a party of the th advanced from this parallel just as colonel windham was asking for reinforcements, and ran up to the salient of the redan, where they suffered severe loss.[ ] captain rowlands, st, made a gallant attempt with a few men, but they were nearly all killed or wounded, and he was obliged to retire. colonel legh, lieutenant whitehead, captain sibthorpe, lieutenants browne and fitzgerald, remained, till only three privates were left in the angle. [sidenote: a most critical moment.] the storming columns of the second division issuing out of the fifth parallel rushed up immediately after the light division; but when they came close to the apex, colonel windham brought them to the right flank of the light division, so as to come on the slope of the proper left face of the redan. the first embrasure to which they came was in flames, but, moving on to the next, the men leaped into the ditch, and, with the aid of ladders and of each other's hands, scrambled up on the other side, climbed the parapet, or poured in through the embrasure, which was undefended. colonel windham was the first or one of the first men to enter, and with him, pat mahony, a great grenadier of the st, kennelly and cornellis, privates of the same regiment. as mahony entered with a cheer, he was shot through the head by a russian rifleman, and fell dead; at the same moment kennelly and cornellis were wounded. (the latter claimed the reward of _l._ offered by colonel herbert to the first man of his division who entered the redan.) running parallel to the faces of the redan there was an inner parapet, intended to shield the gunners at the embrasures from the splinters of shell. cuts in the rear enabled the men to retire, and strong and high traverses ran along the sides. at the base of the redan, before the re-entering angles, was a breastwork, or, rather, a parapet with an irregular curve, which ran in front of the body of the place to the height of a man's neck. as our men entered through the embrasures, the few russians who were between the salient and this breastwork retreated behind the latter, or got behind the traverses for protection. from these they poured in a quick fire on the parapet of the salient, which was crowded by the men of the second and light divisions; and they began to return the fire without advancing or charging. there were riflemen behind the lower traverses near the base of the redan, who kept up a galling fire. the russians were encouraged to maintain their ground by the immobility of our soldiers and the weakness of a fusillade from the effects of which the enemy were well protected. in vain the officers, by voice and example, urged our soldiers to clear the work. the men, most of whom belonged to regiments which had suffered in the trenches, and were acquainted with the traditions of june th, had an impression that the redan was extensively mined, and that if they advanced they would all be blown up. the officers fell, singled out as a mark for the enemy by their courage. the men of the different regiments got mingled together in inextricable confusion. all the brigadiers, save colonel windham, were wounded, or rendered unfit for the guidance of the attack. this was going on at the proper left face of the redan, while nearly the same scene was being repeated at the salient. every moment our men were diminishing in numbers, while the russians were arriving from the town, and from the malakoff, which had been occupied by the french. thrice did colonel windham despatch officers to sir w. codrington, who was in the fifth parallel, to entreat him to send up supports in formation; all these three officers were wounded as they passed from the ditch of the redan to the rear. supports were, indeed, sent up, but they advanced in disorder, and in driblets, only to increase the confusion and the carnage. the narrow neck of the salient was too close to allow of any formation; and the more the men crowded into it, the worse was the disorder, and the more they suffered from the enemy's fire. this miserable work lasted for an hour. colonel windham resolved to go to general codrington himself. seeing captain crealock, of the th, he said,[ ] "i must go to the general for supports. now, mind, let it be known, in case i am killed, why i went away." he succeeded in gaining the fifth parallel, through a storm of grape and bullets, and standing on the top of the parapet he again asked for support. sir w. codrington asked him if he thought he really could do anything with such supports as he could afford, and said, if he thought so, "he might take the royals," who were then in the parallel. "let the officers come out in front--let us advance in order, and if the men keep their formation the redan is ours," was the colonel's reply. but at that moment our men were seen leaping into the ditch, or running down the parapet of the salient, and through the embrasures out of the work into the ditch, the russians following them with the bayonet, musketry, and throwing stones and grape-shot at them as they lay in the ditch. but the solid weight of the advancing mass, urged on and fed each moment from the rear by company after company, and battalion after battalion, prevailed at last against the isolated and disjointed band, which had abandoned that protection which unanimity of courage affords, and had lost the advantages of discipline and obedience. as though some giant rock advanced into the sea, and forced back the agitated waters that buffeted it, so did the russian columns press down against the spray of soldiery which fretted their edge with fire and steel, and contended in vain against their weight. the struggling band was forced back by the enemy, who moved on, crushing friend and foe beneath their solid tramp. bleeding, panting, and exhausted, our men lay in heaps in the ditch beneath the parapet, sheltered themselves behind stones and in bomb craters in the external slope of the work, or tried to pass back to our advanced parallel and sap, having to run the gauntlet of a tremendous fire. the scene in the ditch was appalling, although some of the officers assured me that they and the men were laughing at the precipitation with which many fellows plunged headlong upon the mass of bayonets, muskets, and sprawling soldiers, the ladders were all knocked down or broken, so that it was difficult for the men to scale the other side, and the dead, the dying, the wounded, and the uninjured, were all lying in piles together. [sidenote: a gallant defence.] general pelissier observed the failure of our attack from the rear of the malakoff, and sent over to general simpson to ask if he intended to renew it. the english commander-in-chief did not feel in a condition to do so. the guards and highlanders, the third and fourth divisions, and most of the reserves, had not been engaged. as soon as we abandoned the assault, the firing slackened along our front; but in the rear of the malakoff there was a fierce contest going on between masses of russians, released from the redan, or drawn from the town, and the french inside the work; and the fight for the little redan, on the proper left of the malakoff, was raging furiously. clouds of smoke and dust obstructed the view, but the rattle of musketry was incessant, and betokened the severe nature of the struggle below. through the breaks in the smoke there could be seen now and then a tricolour, surmounted by an eagle, fluttering bravely over the inner parapet of the malakoff. the storm of battle rolled fiercely round it, and beat against it; but it was sustained by strong arms and stout hearts, and all the assaults of the enemy were vain against it. it would be untrue to say that the result of our assault was not the source of deep grief and mortification to us, which all the glorious successes of our allies could not wholly alleviate. even those who thought any attack on the redan useless and unwise, inasmuch as the possession of the malakoff would, in their opinion, render the redan untenable, could not but regret bitterly that, having undertaken the assault, we had not achieved a decisive triumph, and that so much blood had been, if not ingloriously, at least fruitlessly, poured forth. the french, indeed, were generous enough to say that our troops behaved with great bravery, and that they wondered how we kept the redan so long under such a tremendous fire; but british soldiers are rather accustomed to the _nil admirari_ under such circumstances, and praise like that gives pain as well as pleasure. many soldiers, entertaining the opinion to which i have alluded, think that we should at once have renewed the attempt. it is but small consolation to them to know that general simpson intended to attack the redan the following morning, inasmuch as the russians by their retreat deprived us of the chance of retrieving our reputation, and at the same time acknowledged the completeness of the success achieved by our allies, and the tremendous superiority of the fire directed against them. the second brigade, light division, stormed at noon. the th and th, of each, commanded, the former by major welsford (whose head was blown off as he was mounting an embrasure--the gun was fired by a russian officer, who immediately gave himself up as a prisoner to a sergeant of the th, that entered the moment after, throwing down his sword and saying, "i am a prisoner of war"), the latter by captain grove, the senior officer of the regiment present with the service companies. the salient was carried at once, and the men entered the stronghold, which is a work traced on a most obtuse angle, requiring a large mass of men to assault it, not only at the salient, but at the same moment on both flanks, so as to turn them, and to enable the salient storming party to advance down the interior space of the works at once, taking the defenders in front and flank, and indeed in rear, at the same moment. in consequence of attacking the salient only, no front could be formed, on account of the small interior space at that point; the men were forced to advance by driblets, and at the same moment fired on from traverses on either flank, where they could not see their assailants, an evil at once obviated had the attack on the flanks and salient been simultaneous. the handful of men who assaulted and took the salient most gallantly held it against far superior numbers for a considerable time, until their ammunition being nearly expended, and receiving no flank support, which could alone assist them to any purpose, and being rushed on from these flanks by a vastly superior force, they retreated to the extreme side of the parapet, where they remained, and, being reinforced by some fresh men, kept up a heavy and continuous fire on the russians in the interior of the work. they held their ground on this fast sinking parapet of loose earth, stones and broken gabions, under a most galling fire from both flanks and in front, and continuous showers of vertical grape, from inside the work, for an hour and a half at least, when a sudden rush, made by the enemy, who had crept up the faces by the traverses, obliged the troops to give way, and step by step, pelting each other with huge stones, they retired, slipping and tumbling into the ditch, where many poor fellows were buried alive, from the scarps giving way. then came the fearful run for life or death, with men rolling over like rabbits, then tumbling into the english trench, where the men lay four deep on each other. the men once in manned the parapet, and kept up a heavy and continuous fire on the enemy on the parapets of the redan. the rest you know. the rifles behaved nobly, and where they had tried to creep up the ditch to pick off the russians on the flanks, they lay four and five deep, all together. colonel lysons, of the rd, as usual, was all energy, and, though severely wounded through the thigh and unable to stand, remained on the ground cheering on the men. colonel handcock, of the th, was shot through the head on the crest of the redan, and died soon after arriving in camp. captain preston, and lieutenants swift and wilmer, of the th, were all killed inside, where their bodies were found the next morning. captain vaughan, of the th, was shot in both legs, and taken prisoner when we left the place, it being impossible to get him over the ditch. he was found in a russian hospital and brought to camp to die. lieutenant and adjutant dyneley, of the rd fusileers, was mortally wounded. individual deeds of daring were too frequent to particularize. the first dead russian on the extreme salient was a russian officer shot through the mouth--a singularly handsome man, with hands and feet white and delicate as a woman's. [sidenote: the dangers of delay.] the st, which followed the light division storming party, whose position in advance was determined, as i have already stated by colonel windham and colonel unett "tossing up for choice," got into the redan nearly as soon as the th and th, who formed the leading column of attack on the salient, and the parties of each division were soon inextricably mixed. i do not know the names of the first soldiers of the th and th who got in, but several soldiers of these regiments lay dead and wounded in advance near the russian breastwork on the morning of the th. the men of the st who rushed into the redan with colonel windham, were, hartnardy, kennelly, cornellis, and pat mahony; the last, a fine tall grenadier, fell dead in the embrasure by colonel windham's side, shot through the heart as he was shouting, "come on, boys--come on!" his blood spouted over those near him, but the men rushed on till they became confused among the traverses, and then the scene took place which i have tried to describe. the salient, however favourable to the assailants in one sense, was extremely disadvantageous to them in another, inasmuch as it prevented them getting into any kind of formation. it was, of course, the apex of the triangle, and was very narrow, while the enemy firing from the base poured a concentrated fire upon the point, and felled every man who showed boldly from behind the traverses, and the parapet upon which our soldiers were crowded. at the first rush, had colonel windham been able to get a handful of men together to charge at the breastwork, the few russians there must have been routed, and by the time their reinforcements came up our men would have been able to reverse the face of the breastwork, and to close the redan to their assailants. but seconds of time generate great events in war. our delay gave the enemy time both to recover from their panic when they were driven from the salient, and to send up strong bodies of men from their bomb-proofs and the cover at the back of the redan; and by degrees this accumulating mass, advancing from the angles of the breastwork, moved up along the traverses parallel with the parapets of the redan, and drove our men into the salient, where, by feeble driblets and incapable of formation, they were shot down in spite of the devotion and courage of their leader and the example of their officers. the salient was held by our men for one hour and fifty-six minutes! while general codrington, who seemed (in the opinion of those around him) to have lost for the time the coolness which characterized him, was hesitating about sending up more men, or was unable to send them up in any formation so as to form a nucleus of resistance and attack, the redan was lost,[ ] and our men, pressed by the bayonet, by heavy fusillades, and by some field guns which the enemy had now brought up, were forced over the parapet into the ditch. colonel eman, one of the very best officers in the army,--a man of singular calmness and bravery, who was beloved by his regiment, his officers and men, and whose loss was lamented by all who knew him,--was shot through the lungs as he was getting his men into order. his sword arm was uplifted over his head at the time, and it was thought his lungs were uninjured. the surgeon, when he was carried back, told him so, but he knew too well such hopes were vain. "i feel i am bleeding internally," he said, with a sad smile. he died that night. two captains of the same regiment fell beside him--corry and lockhart. captain rowlands, who very much distinguished himself, had the most extraordinary escapes, and was only slightly wounded, though hit in two places. this detachment lost officers and men. the th, who were in reserve, lost officer killed, wounded, privates killed, and wounded. for the last thirty minutes of this contest the english, having exhausted their ammunition, threw stones at their opponents, but the russians retaliated with terrible effect by 'hand-grape' and small cannon-shot, which they hurled at our men. captain rowlands was knocked down and stunned by one of these missiles, which hit him right on the eye. as soon as he recovered and got up, he was struck by another grape-shot in the very same place, and knocked down again. the th regiment was formed in the fourth parallel, left in front, on the right of the th; and when the storming party moved out of the fifth parallel the supports occupied it, and were immediately ordered to advance on the salient angle of the redan, by three companies at a time, from the left. the distance from the place in which they were posted up to the salient considerably exceeded yards; and as the men had to cut across as quickly as they could in order to escape the raking fire of grape, and to support the regiments in front, they were breathless when they arrived at the ditch. when they arrived, all blown by this double, they found only two scaling-ladders at the scarp, and two more at the other side, to climb up to the parapet. they got over, however, and ascended the face of the redan. by the time the supports got up, the russians were pushing up their reserves in great force, and had already got some field-pieces up to the breastwork; and the regiment falling into the train of all around them, instead of advancing, began to fire from the parapet and upper traverses till all their ammunition was exhausted, when they commenced pelting the russians with stones. in this condition no attempts were made to remove the reserves whatever, while the russians accumulated mass after mass upon them from the open ground in rear of the redan, and deployed their columns on the breastwork, whence they delivered a severe fire upon us. the whole garrison of the malakoff and their supports also came down on the left flank of the redan and added to our assailants; and indeed there was reason to fight, for the possession of the redan would have destroyed the enemy's chance of escape. in this gallant regiment there were officers, sergeants, &c., and privates. on marching down to the trenches, officer was killed and were wounded, sergeants were wounded, privates were killed and privates were wounded, and officers and privates died of their wounds. [sidenote: heavy losses of the french.] the th regiment was the support along with the th, and was stationed in the fourth parallel till the assaulting columns had cleared out of the fifth parallel, which it then occupied, and left soon afterwards to mingle in the _mélée_ at the salient of the redan. poor lieut.-colonel cuddy, who assumed the command when lieut.-colonel cure was wounded in the right arm, was killed as he led his men up the open to the face of the redan; and of the remaining ten officers who went out with the regiment, captain morgan, captain hume, lieutenant j. r. hume, and lieutenant johnson were wounded. the regiment went out less than strong, and suffered a loss of officers and men killed and wounded. the nd regiment went into action of all ranks. they were formed into two companies, with four officers to each, and the colonel, major, adjutant, and acting. assistant-surgeon o'callaghan, and formed part of the storming party. colonel tyler was hit in the hand crossing the open space in front of the redan, and retired. lieutenant blakeston was shot in getting through an embrasure of the redan. lieutenant davenport was shot through the nose. on the parapet officers were killed or died of their wounds, and officers were wounded out of a total of ; sergeants were killed and wounded out of ; drummer was killed out of , and rank and file were killed, and were wounded, out of . such was this heavy day. to show how it fell on our allies, i give the following _fact_:--the th regiment, colonel garrain, went into action strong against the little redan, and came out . the chefs-de-bataillon were killed, officers were killed, and officers were wounded. it was observed that an immense number of the russian dead in the front were officers. our attack lasted about an hour and three-quarters, and in that time we lost more men than at inkerman, where the fighting lasted for seven hours. at . p.m., which was about the time we retired, there was an explosion either of a tumbrel or of a fougasse between the mamelon and the malakoff, to the right, which seemed to blow up several frenchmen, and soon afterwards the artillery of the imperial guard swept across from the rear towards the little redan, and gave us indication that our allies had gained a position from which they could operate against the enemy with their field-pieces. from the opening of the attack the french batteries over careening bay had not ceased to thunder against the russian fleet, which lay silently at anchor below; and a lively cannonade was kept up between them and the inkerman batteries till the evening, which was interrupted every now and then by the intervention of the english redoubt, and the late selinghinsk and volhynia redoubts, which engaged the russian batteries at the extremity of the harbour. at one o'clock wounded men began to crawl up from the batteries to the camp; they could tell us little or nothing. "are we in the redan?" "oh, yes; but a lot of us is killed, and the russians are mighty strong." some were cheerful, others desponding; all seemed proud of their wounds. half an hour more, and the number of wounded increased; they came up by twos and threes, and--what i had observed before as a bad sign--the number of stragglers accompanying them, under the pretence of rendering assistance, became greater also. then the ambulances and the cacolets (or mule litters) came in sight along the woronzoff road filled with wounded. every ten minutes added to their numbers, and we could see that every effort was made to hurry them down to the front as soon as they were ready for a fresh load. the litter-bearers now added to the length of the melancholy train. we heard that the temporary hospitals in front were full, and that the surgeons were beginning to get anxious about the extent of their accommodation for the wounded. another bad sign was, that the enemy never ceased throwing up shell to the front, many of which burst high in the air, over our heads, while the pieces flew with a most unpleasant whir around us. these shells were intended for our reserves; and, although the fusees did not burn long enough for such a range, and they all burst at a considerable elevation, they caused some little injury and annoyance to the troops in the rear, and hit some of our men. the rapidly increasing swarms of wounded men, some of whom had left their arms behind them, at last gave rise to suspicions of the truth; but their answers to many eager questioners were not very decisive or intelligible, and some of them did not even know what they had been attacking. one poor young fellow, who was stumping stiffly up with a broken arm and a ball through his shoulder, carried off his firelock with him, but he made a _naïve_ confession that he had "never fired it off, for he could not." the piece turned out to be in excellent order. it struck one that such men as these, however brave, were scarcely a fit match for the well-drilled soldiers of russia; and yet we were trusting the honour, reputation, and glory of great britain to undisciplined lads from the plough, or the lanes of our towns and villages! as one example of the sort of recruits we received, i may mention that there was a considerable number of men in draughts, which came out to regiments in the fourth division, who had only been enlisted a few days, and who had never fired a rifle in their lives! as i wrote at the time--"it must not be imagined that such rawness can be corrected and turned into military efficiency out here; for the fact is, that this siege has been about the worst possible school for developing the courage and manly self-reliance of a soldier; neither does it teach him the value of discipline and of united action. when he goes into the trenches he learns to dodge behind gabions, and to take pot shots from behind stones and parapets, and at the same time he has no opportunity of testing the value of his comrades, or of proving himself against the enemy in the open field. the natural result follows. nor can it be considered as aught but ominous of evil that there have been two courts of inquiry recently held concerning two most distinguished regiments--one, indeed, belonging to the highest rank of our infantry; and the other a well-tried and gallant regiment, which was engaged in this very attack--in consequence of the alleged misconduct of their young soldiers during night affairs in the trenches." [sidenote: losses in the assault.] the difficulty of obtaining accurate information of the progress of an action cannot be better exemplified than by this fact, that at three o'clock one of our generals of division did not know whether we had taken the redan or not. towards dusk, the guards, who had been placed in reserve behind our right attack, were marched off to their camp, and a portion of the highlanders were likewise taken off the ground. the guards had only arrived from the trenches the very same morning; but, to their great credit be it said, they turned out again without a murmur after a rest of a couple of hours for breakfast, although they had been "on" for forty-eight hours previously. the third division and a portion of the highlanders were sent down to do the trench duties in the evening and night. from the following statement of the loss sustained by the light division, it will be seen that this gallant body, which behaved so well at the alma, and maintained its reputation at inkerman, suffered as severely as it did in gaining the former great victory; and an examination of the return will, we fear, show that the winter, the trenches, and careless recruiting did their work, and that the officers furnished a noble example of devotion and gallantry. in the light division there were officers and men wounded--total, , . the loss of this division was , in killed and wounded at the alma. the number of officers killed was ; of men killed, --total, . the regiments of the division which furnished storming columns were the th (or perthshire volunteers) and the th (or earl of ulster's). in the th, captain preston and lieutenants swift and wilmer were killed; only men were killed. lieutenant swift penetrated the furthest of all those who entered the redan, and his dead body was discovered far in advance, near the re-entering angle. captains grove, tinling, and wade, lieutenants rattray, pigott, deverill, and sir c. pigott, and men severely; captains perrin and vaughan, lieutenants rous, graham, and haydock and men slightly wounded. total killed, officers, men; wounded, officers, men. in the th, lieutenant-colonel the hon. h. r. handcock, major welsford, captain hutton, and lieutenant douglas m'gregor, and man were killed. captain lumley and men dangerously; captain sibthorpe, lieutenant goodenough, and men severely; captain woods, lieutenants hill, fitzgerald, brown, and men slightly wounded. total killed, officers, man; wounded, officers, men. the colonel, having been shot through the head, was carried to his tent, but, the ball having lodged in the brain, he was never sensible, and expired that night. lieutenant m'gregor, the son of the inspector-general of irish constabulary, was adjutant of the regiment, and as remarkable for his unostentatious piety and christian virtues as for his bravery and conduct in the field. the rest of the division was engaged in supporting the storming columns. in the th royal fusileers, lieutenants wright and colt, and men were killed; major turner, lieutenant-colonels heyland and hibbert, captain hickey, and captain jones (alma), were wounded; men were wounded. in the rd (royal welsh fusileers), lieutenants somerville and dyneley were killed; lieutenant-colonel lysons was slightly wounded, and the following officers more or less injured by shot, shell, or bayonet:--captains vane, poole, millett, holding, beck, hall-dare, williamson, tupper, o'connor, radcliffe, perrott, and beck. total killed, officers, man; wounded, officers, men. in the rd, lieutenant donovan, a most promising and dashing officer, lost his life while looking over the parapet at the fight. he went with the regiment as an amateur, in company with his brother, all through bulgaria, and into action with them at the alma as a volunteer, where he so much distinguished himself that the colonel recommended him for a commission, which he received without purchase. lieutenant-colonel gough, who was shot through the body at the alma, was severely wounded; captain ellis and lieutenants willis and trent were slightly, and the adjutant toseland severely, wounded; men wounded. total killed, officer; wounded, officers, men. in the th, which was in the parallel behind the columns, men were killed. lieutenants harris and laurie were severely wounded, and men were wounded. in the th, nearly every officer was touched more or less, men were wounded, and killed. the officers wounded were--colonel unett, severely (since dead); major warden, slightly; captain chippindall, ditto; lieutenants godfrey, goren, and massey, dangerously; molesworth severely; bayley, slightly; ensign martin, slightly; and ensign young, dangerously. total killed, men; wounded, officers, men. in the th, men were wounded; killed not known; captain parker mortally wounded. wounded, captain butts, slightly; lieutenants knowles, leggett, and watson, ditto. one officer killed; officers, men wounded. in the th regiment, men were wounded. captain grogan was killed; lieutenant-colonel maxwell, c.b., was wounded twice in the thigh and once in the arm severely. captains mauleverer and beresford, lieutenants lambert, hopton, scott, and ensign walker were wounded severely. total, officer killed; wounded, officers, men. in the rifle brigade, captain hammond, who was only three days out from england, and lieutenant ryder and men were killed; and lieutenant pellew slightly, lieutenant eyre severely, major woodford slightly, captain eccles and lieutenant riley severely wounded. total, officers, men killed; wounded, officers, men. the loss of officers in windham's brigade, and in the portion of warren's brigade which moved to his support was equally severe. [sidenote: losses in the assault.] the second division had on the general staff officer, lieutenant swire, aide-de-camp, dangerously; officers, major rooke and lieutenant morgan, aide-de-camp, severely; officer, brigadier warren, slight scratch in head; and officer, colonel percy herbert, a still slighter scratch. total, officers wounded. in st royals, nd battalion, man was killed; officers, major plunkett and lieutenant williams, and men, severely; captain gillman, and men, dangerously; lieutenant keate, and men slightly, wounded. total killed, ; wounded, officers, men. rd buffs, men killed, wounded, officers. brigadier straubenzee, a scratch over the eye; captain wood dunbar, lieutenant cox, ensigns letts and peachey, wounded. in st foot, officers, captains lockhart and every, men, killed; colonel eman, c.b., dangerously (since dead); lieutenant kingscote, severely; major pratt, captain rowlands, lieutenants maude and hamilton, slightly wounded. total killed, officers, men; wounded, officers, men. in th regiment, men killed, men wounded. in th regiment, captain rochfort and men killed; major king, ensign mitchell, and men, wounded. in th regiment, lieutenant-colonel cuddy, killed; major cure, captain r. hume, captain j. hume, captain richards, lieutenant johnson, and men, wounded. in nd regiment, captains cox and blakeston, killed; lieutenant-colonel tyler, major daubeney, captain hunter, lieutenants dirin and davenport, and men, wounded. in th foot, captain sergeant and lieutenant packinton, slightly contused, and men slightly wounded. in the first division, nd brigade, the st foot lost an excellent officer, captain attree, before the assault took place; he was mortally wounded in the trenches. they had two men slightly wounded. in the scots fusileer guards, and th foot, there were only two men slightly wounded--one in each regiment; out of men admitted into the general hospital, third division, camp, died almost immediately. in the highland division, the nd foot had men wounded; the nd foot had officer, quartermaster maidmont, mortally wounded; man killed, and men wounded; the th had men wounded; and the rd had men wounded. in the fourth division, the th regiment had lieutenant thompson and lieutenant parker, and men wounded; the th regiment had men wounded; the st, men wounded; the th regiment, man wounded; the th, men wounded; the th, men wounded; the rd regiment, colonel lindsay (severely), and men wounded, and killed; the th, man wounded; the rifle brigade, st battalion, men killed, and men wounded. in the right attack of the royal artillery siege train, commissary hayter and men were killed; captain fitzroy, lieutenants champion and tyler, and men were wounded. in the left attack, captain sedley, major chapman, lieutenant elphinstone, r.e. and sappers and miners, were wounded. the regiments in the trenches lost as follows:--rifle brigade, wounded; rd foot, ditto; th, ditto; rd fusileers, ditto; st, ditto; th, ditto; nd, killed, wounded; th, killed, wounded; th, wounded; th, killed, wounded; rd, wounded; th, wounded; th, killed, wounded. the total given by sir john hall was-- officers, and men killed; officers and , men wounded. chapter vii. painful depression--tremendous explosions--retreat of the russians--chronicle of events--general after-order--visit to the city--strength of the works--surprise in camp--rush to the city--plunder--ghastly sights--the dead and the dying--inside the works--value of the malakoff--terrible picture of the horrors of war--hospital of sebastopol--heart-rending scene--chambers of horrors--the great redan--wreck and destruction. there was a feeling of deep depression in camp. we knew the french were in the malakoff only, and we were painfully aware that our attack had failed. it was an eventful night. the camp was full of wounded men; the hospitals were crowded; sad stories ran from mouth to mouth respecting the losses of the officers and the behaviour of the men. fatigued and worn out, i lay down to rest, but scarcely to sleep. at my last walk to the front after sunset, nothing was remarkable except the silence of the batteries on both sides. about seven o'clock, an artillery officer in the quarries observed the enemy pouring across the bridge to the north side, and sent word to that effect to general simpson. about eleven o'clock my hut was shaken by a violent shock as of an earthquake, but i was so thoroughly tired, that it did not rouse me for more than an instant; having persuaded myself it was "only a magazine," i was asleep again. in another hour these shocks were repeated in quick succession, so that morpheus himself could not have slumbered on, and i walked up to cathcart's hill. fires blazed in sebastopol, but they were obscured with smoke, and by the dust which still blew through the night air. as the night wore on, these fires grew and spread, fed at intervals by tremendous explosions. the russians were abandoning the city they had defended so gallantly and so long. their fleet was beneath the waters. a continuous stream of soldiery could be seen marching across the bridge to the north, side. and what were we doing? just looking on. about half past five o'clock general bentinck came out of his hut, close to cathcart's hill, to "see what the matter was." of course, that careful officer was not in any way concerned in the arrangements for the attack or for the assault. he was only a divisional officer, and could not in any way direct the action of the troops. [sidenote: retreat of the russians.] at o'clock the night before, the russians began to withdraw from the town, in which they had stored up combustibles, to render sebastopol a second moscow. the general kept up a fire of musketry from his advanced posts, as though he intended to renew his efforts to regain the malakoff. about . a.m. the highland division on duty in the trenches, surprised at the silence in the redan, sent some volunteers to creep into it. nothing could they hear but the breathing and groans of the wounded and dying, who, with the dead, were the sole occupants of the place. as it was thought the redan was mined, the men came back. by o'clock a.m. the fleet, with the exception of the steamers, had been scuttled and sunk. flames were observed to break out in different parts of the town. they spread gradually over the principal buildings. at o'clock a.m. a terrible explosion behind the redan shook the whole camp; it was followed by four other explosions equally startling. the city was enveloped in fire and smoke, and torn asunder by the tremendous shocks of these volcanoes. at . a.m. the magazine of the flagstaff and garden batteries blew up. at . a.m. two of the southern forts, the quarantine and alexander, went up into the air, and a great number of live shell followed, and burst in all directions. while this was going on, a steady current of infantry was passing to the north side over the bridge. at . a.m. the last battalion had passed, and the hill-sides opposite the city were alive with russian troops. at . a.m. several small explosions took place inside the town. at . a.m. columns of black smoke began to rise from a steamer in one of the docks. at . a.m. the connection of the floating-bridge with the south side was severed. at . a.m. flames began to ascend from fort nicholas. at . a.m. the last part of the bridge was floated off in portions to the north side. at a.m. several violent explosions took place in the works on our left, opposite the french. at a.m. the town was a mass of flames, and the pillar of velvety fat smoke ascending from it seemed to support the very heavens. the french continued to fire, probably to keep out stragglers; but, ere the russians left the place, the zouaves and sailors were engaged in plundering. not a shot was fired to the front and centre. the russian steamers were very busy towing boats and stores across. his steamers towed his boats across at their leisure, and when every man had been placed in safety, and not till then, the russians began to dislocate and float off the different portions of their bridge, and to pull it over to the north side. this redan cost us more lives than the capture of badajoz, without including those who fell in its trenches and approaches; and, although the enemy evacuated it, we could scarcely claim the credit of having caused them such loss that they retired owing to their dread of a renewed assault. on the contrary, we must, in fairness, admit that the russians maintained their hold of the place till the french were established in the malakoff and the key of the position was torn from their grasp. they might, indeed, have remained in the place longer than they did, as the french were scarcely in a condition to molest them from the malakoff with artillery; but the russian general possessed too much genius and experience as a soldier to lose men in defending an untenable position, and his retreat was effected with masterly skill and with perfect ease in the face of a victorious enemy. covering his rear by the flames of the burning city, and by tremendous explosions, which spoke in tones of portentous warning to those who might have wished to cut off his retreat, he led his battalions in narrow files across a deep arm of the sea, which ought to have been commanded by our guns, and in the face of a most powerful fleet. he actually paraded them in our sight as they crossed, and carried off all his most useful stores and munitions of war. he left us few trophies, and many bitter memories. he sank his ships and blew up his forts without molestation; nothing was done to harass him in his retreat, with the exception of some paltry efforts to break down the bridge by cannon-shot, or to shell the troops as they marched over. it was clear that the fire of our artillery was searching out every nook and corner in the town, and that it would have soon become utterly impossible for the russians to keep any body of men to defend their long line of parapet and battery without such murderous loss as would speedily have annihilated an army. their enormous bomb-proofs, large and numerous as they were, could not hold the requisite force to resist a general concerted attack made all along the line with rapidity and without previous warning. on the other hand, the strength of the works themselves was prodigious. one heard our engineers feebly saying, "they are badly traced," and that kind of thing; but it was quite evident that the russian, who is no match for the allies in the open field, had been enabled to sustain the most tremendous bombardments ever known, and a siege of eleven months; that he was rendered capable of repulsing one general assault, and that a subsequent attack upon him at four points was only successful at one, which fortunately happened to be the key of his position; and the inference is, that his engineers possessed consummate ability, and furnished him with artificial strength that made him equal to our best efforts. it is sufficient to say that of the three or four points attacked--the little redan and the malakoff on the right, and the bastion centrale and the re-entering angle of the flagstaff work on the left--but one was carried, and that was a closed work. the great redan, the little redan, and the line of defence on the left were not taken, although the attack was resolute, and the contest obstinate and bloody for both assailants and defenders. whether we ought to have attacked the great or little redan, or to have touched the left at all, was another question, which was ventilated by many, but which it is not for me to decide. it is certain that the enemy knew his weakness, and was too good a strategist to defend a position of which we held the key. the surprise throughout the camp on the sunday morning was beyond description when the news spread that sebastopol was on fire, and that the enemy were retreating. the tremendous explosions, which shook the very ground like so many earthquakes, failed to disturb many of our wearied soldiers. [sidenote: a young prisoner of war.] as the rush from camp became very great, and every one sought to visit the malakoff and the redan, which were filled with dead and dying men, a line of english cavalry was posted across the front from our extreme left to the french right. they were stationed in all the ravines and roads to the town and trenches, with orders to keep back all persons except the generals and staff, and officers and men on duty, and to stop all our men returning with plunder from the town, and to take it from them. as they did not stop the french, or turks, or sardinians, this order gave rise to a good deal of grumbling, particularly when a man, after lugging a heavy chair several miles, or a table, or some such article, was deprived of it by our sentries. the french complained that our dragoons let english soldiers pass with russian muskets, and would not permit the french to carry off these trophies; but there was not any foundation for the complaint. there was assuredly no jealousy on one side or the other. it so happened that as the remnants of the french regiments engaged on the left against the malakoff and little redan marched to their tents in the morning, our second division was drawn up on the parade-ground in front of their camp, and the french had to pass their lines. the instant the leading regiment of zouaves came up to the spot where our first regiment was placed, the men, with one spontaneous burst, rent the air with an english cheer. the french officers drew their swords, their men dressed up and marched past as if at a review, while regiment after regiment of the second division caught up the cry, and at last our men presented arms to their brave comrades of france, the officers on both sides saluted with their swords, and this continued till the last man had marched by. mingled with the plunderers from the front were many wounded men. the ambulances never ceased,--now moving heavily and slowly with their burdens, again rattling at a trot to the front for a fresh cargo,--and the ground between the trenches and the camp was studded with cacolets or mule litters. already the funeral parties had commenced their labours. the russians all this time were swarming on the north side, and evinced the liveliest interest in the progress of the explosions and conflagrations. they took up ground in their old camps, and spread all over the face of the hills behind the northern forts. their steamers cast anchor, or were moored close to the shore among the creeks, on the north side, near fort catherine. by degrees the generals, french and english, and the staff officers, edged down upon the town, but fort paul had not yet gone up, and fort nicholas was burning, and our engineers declared the place would be unsafe for forty-eight hours. moving down, however, on the right flank of our cavalry pickets, a small party of us managed to turn them cleverly, and to get out among the french works between the mamelon and malakoff. the ground was here literally paved with shot and shell, and the surface was deeply honeycombed by the explosions of the bombs at every square yard. the road was crowded by frenchmen returning with paltry plunder from sebastopol, and with files of russian prisoners, many of them wounded, and all dejected, with the exception of a fine little boy, in a cossack's cap and a tiny uniform greatcoat, who seemed rather pleased with his kind captors. there was also one stout russian soldier, who had evidently been indulging in the popularly credited sources of dutch courage, and who danced all the way into the camp with a zouave. there were ghastly sights on the way, too--russians who had died, or were dying as they lay, brought so far towards the hospitals from the fatal malakoff. passing through a maze of trenches, of gabionades, and of zigzags and parallels, by which the french had worked their sure and deadly way close to the heart of the russian defence, and treading gently among the heaps of dead, where the ground bore full tokens of the bloody fray, we came at last to the head of the french sap. it was barely ten yards from that to the base of the huge sloping mound of earth which rose full twenty feet in height above the level, and showed in every direction the grinning muzzles of its guns. the tricolour waved placidly from its highest point, and the french were busy constructing a semaphore on the top. there was a ditch at one's feet, some twenty or twenty-two feet deep, and ten feet broad. that was the place where the french crossed--there was their bridge of planks, and here they swarmed in upon the unsuspecting defenders of the malakoff. they had not ten yards to go. we had two hundred, and the men were then out of breath. were not planks better than scaling-ladders? this explains how easily the french crossed. on the right hand, as one issued from the head of the french trench, was a line of gabions on the ground running up to this bridge. that was a flying sap, which the french made the instant they got out of the trench into the malakoff, so that they were enabled to pour a continuous stream of men into the works, with comparative safety from the flank fire of the enemy. in the same way they at once dug a trench across the work inside, to see if there were any galvanic wires to fire mines. mount the parapet and descend--of what amazing thickness are these embrasures! from the level of the ground inside to the top of the parapet cannot be less than eighteen feet. there were eight rows of gabions piled one above the other, and as each row receded towards the top, it left in the ledge below an excellent _banquette_ for the defenders. [sidenote: sickening sights.] inside the sight was too terrible to dwell upon. the french were carrying away their own and the russian wounded, and four distinct piles of dead were formed to clear the way. the ground was marked by pools of blood, and the smell was noisome; swarms of flies settled on dead and dying; broken muskets, torn clothes, caps, shakos, swords, bayonets, bags of bread, canteens, and haversacks, were lying in indescribable confusion all over the place, mingled with heaps of shot, of grape, bits of shell, cartridges, case and canister, loose powder, official papers, and cooking tins. the traverses were so high and deep that it was almost impossible to get a view of the whole of the malakoff from any one spot, and there was a high mound of earth in the middle of the work, either intended as a kind of shell proof, or the remains of the old white tower. the guns, which to the number of sixty were found in the work, were all ships' guns, and mounted on ships' carriages, and worked in the same way as ships' guns. there were a few old-fashioned, oddly-shaped mortars. on looking around the work, one might see that the strength of the russian was his weakness--he fell into his own bomb-proofs. in the parapet of the work might be observed several entrances--very narrow outside, but descending and enlarging downwards, and opening into rooms some four or five feet high, and eight or ten square. these were only lighted from the outside by day, and must have been pitch dark at night, unless the men were allowed lanterns. here the garrison retired when exposed to a heavy bombardment. the odour of these narrow chambers was villanous, and the air reeked with blood and abominations unutterable. there were several of these places, and they might bid defiance to the heaviest mortars in the world: over the roof was a layer of _ships' masts_, cut into junks, and deposited carefully; then there was over them a solid layer of earth, and above that a layer of gabions, and above that a pile of earth again. in one of these dungeons, excavated in the solid rock, and which was probably underneath the old white tower, the officer commanding seems to have lived. it must have been a dreary residence. the floor and the entrance were littered a foot deep with reports, returns, and perhaps despatches assuring the czar that the place had sustained no damage. the garrison were in these narrow chambers enjoying their siesta, which they invariably take at twelve o'clock, when the french burst in upon them like a torrent, and, as it were, drowned them in their holes. the malakoff was a closed work, only open at the rear to the town; and the french having once got in, threw open a passage to their own rear, and closed up the front and the lateral communications with the curtains leading to the great redan and to the little redan. thus they were enabled to pour in their supports, in order and without loss, in a continued stream, and to resist the efforts of the russians, which were desperate and repeated, to retake the place. they brought up their field-guns at once, and swept the russian reserves and supports, while strange's batteries from the quarries carried death through their ranks in every quarter of the karabelnaïa. with the malakoff the enemy lost sebastopol. the ditch outside, towards the north, was full of french and russians, piled over each other in horrid confusion. on the right, towards the little redan, the ground was literally strewn with bodies as thick as they could lie, and in the ditch they were piled over each other. here the french, victorious in the malakoff, met with a heavy loss and a series of severe repulses. the russians lay inside the work in heaps, like carcases in a butcher's cart; and the wounds, the blood--the sight exceeded all i had hitherto witnessed. descending from the malakoff, we came upon a suburb of ruined houses open to the sea--it was filled with dead. the russians had crept away into holes and corners in every house, to die like poisoned rats; artillery horses, with their entrails torn open by shot, were stretched all over the space at the back of the malakoff, marking the place where the russians moved up their last column to retake it under the cover of a heavy field battery. every house, the church, some public buildings, sentry-boxes--all alike were broken and riddled by cannon and mortar. turning to the left, we proceeded by a very tall snow-white wall of great length to the dockyard gateway. this wall was pierced and broken through and through with cannon. inside were the docks, which, naval men say, were unequalled in the world. the steamer was blazing merrily in one of them. gates and store sides were splintered and pierced by shot. there were the stately dockyard buildings on the right, which used to look so clean and white and spruce. parts of them were knocked to atoms, and hung together in such shreds and patches that it was only wonderful they cohered. the soft white stone of which they and the walls were made was readily knocked to pieces by a cannon-shot. of all the pictures of the horrors of war which have ever been presented to the world, the hospital of sebastopol offered the most horrible, heartrending, and revolting. how the poor human body could be mutilated, and yet hold its soul within it, when every limb is shattered, and every vein and artery is pouring out the life-stream, one might study there at every step, and at the same time wonder how little will kill! the building used as an hospital was one of the noble piles inside the dockyard wall, and was situated in the centre of the row, at right angles to the line of the redan. the whole row was peculiarly exposed to the action of shot and shell bounding over the redan, and to the missiles directed at the barrack battery; and it bore in sides, roof, windows, and doors, frequent and distinctive proofs of the severity of the cannonade. [sidenote: a peep at the great redan.] entering one of these doors, i beheld such a sight as few men, thank god, have ever witnessed. in a long, low room, supported by square pillars arched at the top, and dimly lighted through shattered and unglazed window-frames, lay the wounded russians, who had been abandoned to our mercies by their general. the wounded, did i say? no, but the dead--the rotten and festering corpses of the soldiers, who were left to die in their extreme agony, untended, uncared for, packed as close as they could be stowed, some on the floor, others on wretched trestles and bedsteads, or pallets of straw, sopped and saturated with blood, which oozed and trickled through upon the floor, mingling with the droppings of corruption. with the roar of exploding fortresses in their ears--with shells and shot pouring through the roof and sides of the rooms in which they lay--with the crackling and hissing of fire around them, these poor fellows, who had served their loving friend and master the czar but too well, were consigned to their terrible fate. many might have been saved by ordinary care. many lay, yet alive, with maggots crawling about in their wounds. many, nearly mad by the scene around them, or seeking escape from it in their extremest agony, had rolled away under the beds, and glared out on the heart-stricken spectator--oh! with such looks! many, with legs and arms broken and twisted, the jagged splinters sticking through the raw flesh, implored aid, water, food, or pity, or, deprived of speech by the approach of death, or by dreadful injuries in the head or trunk, pointed to the lethal spot. many seemed bent alone on making their peace with heaven. the attitudes of some were so hideously fantastic as to appal and root one to the ground by a sort of dreadful fascination. could that bloody mass of clothing and white bones ever have been a human being, or that burnt black mass of flesh have ever held a human soul? it was fearful to think what the answer must be. the bodies of numbers of men were swollen and bloated to an incredible degree; and the features, distended to a gigantic size, with eyes protruding from the sockets, and the blackened tongue lolling out of the mouth, compressed tightly by the teeth, which had set upon it in the death-rattle, made one shudder and reel round. in the midst of one of these "chambers of horrors"--for there were many of them--were found some dead and some living english soldiers, and among them poor captain vaughan, of the th, who afterwards died of his wounds. i confess it was impossible for me to stand the sight, which horrified our most experienced surgeons; the deadly, clammy stench, the smell of gangrened wounds, of corrupted blood, of rotting flesh, were intolerable and odious beyond endurance. but what must have the wounded felt, who were obliged to endure all this, and who passed away without a hand to give them a cup of water, or a voice to say one kindly word to them? most of these men were wounded on saturday--many, perhaps, on the friday before--indeed it is impossible to say how long they might have been there. in the hurry of their retreat, the muscovites seem to have carried in dead men to get them out of the way, and to have put them on pallets in horrid mockery. so that their retreat was secured, the enemy cared but little for their wounded. on monday only did they receive those whom we sent out to them during a brief armistice for the purpose, which was, i believe, sought by ourselves, as our over-crowded hospitals could not contain, and our over-worked surgeons could not attend to, any more. the great redan was next visited. such a scene of wreck and ruin!--all the houses behind it a mass of broken stones--a clock turret, with a shot right through the clock; a pagoda in ruins; another clock tower, with all the clock destroyed save the dial, with the words, "barwise, london," thereon; cook-houses, where human blood was running among the utensils; in one place a shell had lodged in the boiler, and blown it and its contents, and probably its attendants, to pieces. everywhere wreck and destruction. this evidently was a _beau quartier_ once. the oldest inhabitant could not have recognized it on that fatal day. climbing up to the redan, which was fearfully cumbered with the dead, we witnessed the scene of the desperate attack and defence, which cost both sides so much blood. the ditch outside made one sick--it was piled up with english dead, some of them scorched and blackened by the explosion, and others lacerated beyond recognition. the quantity of broken gabions and gun-carriages here was extraordinary; the ground was covered with them. the bomb-proofs were the same as in the malakoff, and in one of them a music-book was found, with a woman's name in it, and a canary bird and a vase of flowers were outside the entrance. chapter viii. russian steamers--tornado--destruction of russian steamers--sinope avenged--a year's work--its effect on the british army--destruction of russian docks--opinions of russian officers on prospects of peace--medals and ribands--celebration of the alma anniversary--honours to french and english commanders--encampment of russian army--russian method of removing dead and wounded--anxiety of british army and navy "to do something"--activity of the russians--appearance of balaklava--what the british army were doing to kill time. as the russian steamers were intact, notwithstanding the efforts of the french battery at the head of the roads near inkerman to touch them, it was resolved, on the day after the fall of the place, to construct a battery on the ruins of fort paul, within yards of the northern shore, under which they had taken refuge. the steamers lay in three irregular lines to the eastward of fort catherine, where the deep creeks in the high cliffs gave them some sort of shelter against the fire of the french. there they had been agents of much mischief and injury to the allies, from the time of the battle of inkerman. there was the famous _vladimir_, with her two large funnels and elegant clipper hull; the _elboeuf_, the steamer which made the celebrated dash into the black sea through all our fleet the year before, and burnt some turkish vessels near heraclea, just as the _vladimir_ was seen in odessa harbour in the month of july, ; there was the _gromonossetz_, which had caused such an annoyance from the dockyard creek; the _chersonese_, and _odessa_; and there were three others with hard, and to me unknown names, as calmly floating on the water as though no eager eyes were watching from every battery to lay a gun upon them. a number of very capacious dockyard lumps and row-boats were also secured in these creeks, or hung on by the steamers. [sidenote: destruction of russian vessels.] on the morning of the th, about an hour after midnight, an exceedingly violent storm raged over the camp. the wind blew with such fury as to make the hut in which i was writing rock to and fro, at the same time filling it with fine dust. the fires in sebastopol, fanned by the wind, spread fast, and the glare of the burning city illuminated the whole arch of the sky towards the north-west. at o'clock a.m. the storm increased in strength, and rain fell heavily; the most dazzling flames of lightning shot over the plateau and lighted up the camp; the peals of thunder were so short and startling as to resemble, while they exceeded in noise, the report of cannon. the rain somewhat lessened the intensity of the fire at sebastopol, but its flames and those of the lightning at times contended for the mastery. there was, indeed, a great battle raging in the skies, and its thunder mocked to scorn our heaviest cannonade. in the whole course of my life i never heard or saw anything like the deluge of rain which fell at o'clock. it beat on the roof with a noise like that of a cataract: it was a veritable waterspout. the lightning at last grew fainter, and the gusts less violent. at . the tornado passed over the camp once more--hail, storm, and rain. the ground was converted into a mass of mud. in the course of the afternoon some of the russian guns in the ruined battery below the redan were turned on these steamers, and in a few rounds--not more than twelve, i think--succeeded in hulling them eight times. the range was, however, rather long, and it became expedient to move a little nearer. on tuesday evening, when lieutenant gough, of the _london_--who commanded in the naval batteries on the left attack--came down with his men, he was ordered to take his relief over to the right attack and to accompany lieutenant anderson, r.e., down to the town, in order to erect a battery for two -cwt. guns on the right of st. paul's battery. the site of this battery was about yards from fort catherine, on the opposite side. the men, although deprived of the quiet night and undisturbed repose they anticipated, set to work with a will, and began throwing up the parapet and filling gabions; and as it was possible that some interruption of the work might take place from the other side, a covering party of men was ordered down from the trenches. there were french sentries in charge of this portion of the place, and the little party found that their allies were on the _qui vive_, and were keeping a sharp look-out on all sides. the men had been working some time, when it was observed that one of the enemy's steamers had left the north side, and was slowly and noiselessly dropping down to the very spot where the sailors and the covering party were at their labours. the night was dark, but they could clearly make out the steamer edging down upon them, and coming closer and closer. every moment they expected their guns to open upon them with grape and canister. the men, therefore, lay down upon their faces, and kept as near to the ground as they could, and the steamer came over gently till she was within about yards of the very spot where they had been working. they heard her anchor splash into the water, and then the rattle of her cable as it ran through the hawsehole. now, certainly, they were "going to catch it," but, no--the russian opened no port and showed no light, but seemed to be making himself comfortable in his new quarters. captain villiers, of the th, who commanded the covering party, ordered his men to observe the utmost silence, and the same injunction was given to the seamen. about . in the morning, when she had been an hour or so in her novel berth, a broad light was perceived in her fore hatchway. the leading steamer on the opposite side in a second afterwards exhibited gleams of equal brightness, and then one! two! three! four! five!--as though from signal guns, the remaining steamers, with one exception, emitted jets of fire. the jets soon became columns of flame and smoke--the wind blew fresh and strong, so the fire soon spread with rapidity, and soon lighted up the whole of the heavens. the masts were speedily licked and warmed into a fiery glow, and the rigging burst out into fitful wavering lines of light, struggling with the wind for life: the yards shed lambent showers of sparks and burning splinters upon the water. the northern works could be readily traced by the light of the conflagration, and the faces of the russian soldiers and sailors who were scattered about on the face of the cliff shone out now and then, and justified rembrandt. the vessels were soon nothing but huge arks of blinding light, which hissed and crackled fiercely, and threw up clouds of sparks and embers; the guns, as they became hot, exploded, and shook the crazy hulls to atoms. one after another they went down into the seething waters. at daybreak only one steamer remained. a boat pushed alongside her from the shore, and after remaining about ten minutes regained the shore. very speedily the vessel began to be seized with a sort of internal convulsion--first she dipped her bows, then her stern, then gave a few uneasy shakes, and at length, after a short quiver, went down bodily, cleverly scuttled. thus was sinope avenged. of the men who planned, the sailors who executed, and the ships which were engaged on that memorable expedition, no trace remained. korniloff, nachimoff, istomine, and their crews, disappeared: their vessels rest at the bottom of the roadstead of sebastopol. the russians preferred being agents of their own destruction, and did not give the conqueror a chance of parading the fruits of his victory. we could not delight the good people of plymouth or portsmouth by the sight of russian liners and steamers. we could only drive the enemy to the option of destroying or of doing the work for him, and he invariably preferred the former. [sidenote: doubtful prospects of peace.] in one year we stormed the heights of the alma, sustained the glorious disaster of balaklava, fought the great fight of inkerman, swept the sea of azoff and its seaboard, wasted kertch and seized upon yenikale, witnessed the battle of the tchernaya, opened seven bombardments upon sebastopol, held in check every general and every soldier that russia could spare; and, after the endurance of every ill that an enemy at home and abroad could inflict upon us--after passing through the summer's heat and winter's frost--after being purged in the fire of sickness and death, repulse and disaster, and, above all, in the glow of victory, the british standard floated over sebastopol! but our army was not the same. physiologists tell us that we undergo perpetual charge, and that not a bit of the john smith of goes into the composition of the same respected individual in ; but we had managed to work up tens of hundreds of atoms in our british army between and , and there were few indeed to be found in the body corporate who landed in the crimea a twelvemonth before. some regiments had been thrice renewed, others had been changed twice over. the change was not for the better--the old stuff was better than the new. the old soldiers had disappeared; in some regiments there were not more than fifteen men, in others there were not so many, remaining out of those who moved in magnificent parade to their first bivouac. those whom the war had swallowed up were not replaced by better men. the light division--those steady, noble soldiers of the rifle brigade; the gallant fusileers; the th, the rd, the rd, the th, the th--the men who drew the teeth of that terrible russian battery on the bloody steeps of the alma--how few of them were then left to think and wonder at the failure in the redan! the second division, old companions of the light in hard fighting and in hard work, were sadly reduced. the third division, though singularly freed from active participation in any of the great battles or sanguinary struggles of the war, had been heavily smitten by sickness, and had borne a large share of the exhausting and harassing duties of the trenches and of the siege, and its old soldiers had been used up, as those of the other corps. the fourth division earned for itself a high reputation. in the fierce contest of inkerman it won imperishable laurels, which few of the winners were left to wear. as to the guards--those majestic battalions which secured the fluttering wings of victory on the alma, and with stubborn front withstood the surge of muscovite infantry which rolled up the ravines of inkerman--disease and battle had done their work but too surely, notwithstanding the respite from the trenches during our wintry spring-time, which was allowed perforce to their rapidly vanishing columns. the silence in camp was almost alarming; were it not for a gun now and then between the town and the north side, and across the tchernaya, it would have been appalling. the naval brigade was broken up and sent on board ship. our batteries were disarmed; the army works corps, assisted by soldiers, engaged in the formation of a new road from balaklava, parallel with the line of railway. everything around us indicated an intention on the part of the chiefs of putting the army into winter quarters on the site of their encampment. the sappers and miners sank mines, to destroy the docks that had cost russia so much anxiety, money, and bloodshed; and, if it were not that they were intended to be, and had been, accessory to violence, one would have regretted that such splendid memorials of human skill should be shattered to atoms. but the fleet of sinope sailed thence, in them it was repaired on its return; and these vessels were built, not to foster peace and commerce, but to smite and destroy them. there was an armistice on tuesday, sept. th, to effect an interchange of letters, for the benefit of the prisoners, and to make inquiries respecting missing officers on both sides. the russian officer who conducted it, and who was supposed to have been the commander of the _vladimir_, expressed the same opinion as the russian admiral did on monday, sept. th--"with this before us," pointing to the ruins of sebastopol, "peace is farther off than ever." the russians had very large parks of artillery on the north side of the harbour; and the piles of provisions, _matériel_, and coal which were visible, showed that they did not want the means of carrying on the war, as far as such things were concerned. many of the guns found here were cast at carron, from the letters on their trunnion heads and breeches. the enemy persisted in casting up formidable earthworks on the north side, and we looked on as we did from september till october , , and saw them preparing their defences, with the sure conviction that we should be able to carry them, or sap up to them, or take them in some way or other in a year or two. meantime, the weather came in with a word of its own, and said to our deliberating generals, "stop! as you have waited so long, i won't let you move now." it was on the th of september, twelve months before this was written, that the allied armies marched from old fort, and that the russians drew first blood at bouljanak. what an eventful year had elapsed! and how few survived through all our sufferings and our glories! the medals and ribands issued to commanding officers were distributed on the th of september, about ten medals for each company. as to the riband, there was but one opinion,--that it was unbecoming and _mesquin_ to a degree. men differed as to the merits of the medal; but a large majority abused it, and the clasps were likened generally to the labels on public-house wine-bottles. the proceedings at the distribution were tame and spiritless. a regiment was drawn up, with the commanding officer in front; beside him stood a sergeant, with a big bag. "john smith" was called. "here." the colonel dipped his hand into the bag, took out a small parcel, and said, "john smith, you were alma, balaklava, and inkerman?" "yes." the colonel handed him the parcel, and john smith retired to his place in the ranks, carrying the said packet in his hand, which he opened at the "dismiss." perhaps the john smith alluded to never saw a shot fired except at a distance. he might have been on peaceful guard at lord raglan's head-quarters on the th of november; yet he wears the clasp for inkerman. he might have been engaged in no more sanguinary work than that of killing oxen and sheep for the division in the commissariat slaughter-house, and yet he will show on his breast "crimea," "alma," "balaklava," "inkerman." this great anniversary was celebrated enthusiastically throughout the army. there were many "alma dinners" in the regiments, among both officers and men; and music and song kept the camp awake till long after midnight. many a memory of the dead was revived, many an old wound reopened, at these festive meetings. the french also had their banquets and festivities. they had a grand ceremony early in the morning--a _missa solennis_ for the repose of the dead. general pelissier was made a marshal of france, and received from her majesty the grand cross of the bath. of the latter order he seemed exceedingly proud, and he signed his name "pelissier, g.c.b." general simpson received the distinction of the grand cross of the legion of honour. [sidenote: resources of the russians.] at daybreak on the morning of the st of september, i saw through the mist on the mackenzie ridge a numerous line of watch-fires, and later in the early light a strong column of the russian infantry was visible in bivouac to our right of the telegraph station and to the left of the spur battery, near the mackenzie road. part of these marched away again in the course of the day; the rest remained in the same place, and hutted themselves with great skill and alacrity. they were encamped in a sort of chapparell, and they converted the branches into the sides and coverings of their huts. their arms were piled when they first arrived at the bivouac, but three hours later the glistening barrels and bayonets had disappeared, having possibly been placed in some dry and secure place. having secured their right flank by the very formidable earthworks and batteries which we permitted the enemy to erect, in addition to their former defences and their regular forts, the russians directed the bulk of their army to protect their centre, resting on the tchernaya and mackenzie, and their left at aitodor, and on the upper belbek to bakschiserai. they prepared to hold this extensive line; and as the allies could scarcely spare men enough to send to eupatoria, and thence to march on simpheropol, or to force the russian position on the belbek by a moving corps to operate against them on the north, and as there was no apparent intention of attacking them from inkerman or the tchernaya, the dead lock was likely enough not to be relaxed that winter. the quantity of stores removed by the russians from the north side to their depôt showed that they were not in want of provisions, unless they took the trouble to carry dummy sacks and fill their carts with "make-believes." it must have been difficult for them to feed their army, but somehow or other they did so. they left considerable quantities of food behind them in the city; large flocks and herds studded the plains near the citadel. the soldiers who fell into the hands of the sardinians and french on the th of august carried abundance of bread and spirits, and they had meat and plenty of everything except water, when they came down to attack the allies; so that, altogether, i was not so very sanguine as to think the russians would be forced to abandon their position on the approach of winter. the country around them would supply abundance of wood for fuel, and they were skilled in making comfortable and warm underground huts. the enemy, therefore, would be as well housed as the allies, supposing the latter succeeded in getting up huts before the winter set in. "leaving them alone" would never drive a russian army out of the field; the only thing to do that was the french and english bayonet, and plenty of fighting. the muscovite generals cannot be accused of any great regard for their killed and wounded, but they have certainly much respect for the prejudices and feelings of their soldiers. we were over and over again astonished at the wonderful way in which the dead and wounded disappeared after the repulse of a sortie in which there were probably of the enemy put _hors de combat_. except the dead and wounded left in our trenches, none were ever to be seen after such contests when day broke. a soldier of the th (m'geevor), who was taken prisoner in a sortie, and who returned to his regiment after a long and (to others) interesting march in russia, explained the mystery, such as it was. on the night alluded to it could not be ascertained what the russian loss was, but it was certain that the firing had been very heavy and the work very warm while it lasted. as this man was being carried to the rear after a stout resistance, he observed that there were hundreds of soldiers without weapons between the reserves and the column of sortie, and that these men were employed exclusively in removing the dead and wounded, who would otherwise have been left in the hands of the british. the most extensive provision we make in such cases is sending one, or at most two, litters to a regiment, except when the ambulances go out for a pitched battle. perhaps we do not calculate on leaving our ground, but the best general is always prepared for retreat as well as for victory, and if ever we should be placed in the same circumstances as the russians have been, it would be advisable to follow their example. on the th sir edmund lyons and admiral stewart, with several post-captains, attended at head-quarters, and it was understood that they, in common with the whole fleet, were most anxious "to do something" ere the season was too far advanced for naval operations. at eupatoria they found no less than , turkish infantry in a fine state of discipline, and in perfect readiness for any military service. these soldiers were all reviewed and inspected on the occasion, and officers of rank, english and french, were alike gratified by the disciplined alertness and efficiency of these neglected and almost useless infantry. it is difficult to imagine that these turks could not have aided us materially in driving the enemy from sebastopol if strengthened by an english division and two french divisions, which could have been easily spared from the army before sebastopol. moreover, they might have been aided by all our cavalry, which were in very excellent condition, and were of no earthly service at kadikoi or baidar. between french, english, and sardinians, we could have sent a force of at least , sabres to the north side of the alma, which certainly would have had nothing to fear from any russian cavalry in the crimea. the land transport corps had more than , horses and mules. the allied fleet could have embarked and landed the whole force in sixty hours, at any point between balaklava or kamiesch and eupatoria. army and fleet were alike inactive--the only tokens of military life were displayed on the side of the enemy. the celerity with which they threw up and finished the most formidable-looking redoubts on the land and sea sides was astonishing. the russians are admirable diggers, and if marshal turenne's maxim, that as many battles were won by the spade as by the musket be true, they are good soldiers. the fire across the roads increased in frequency and severity every day, but the mortars of the french caused some injury and impediment to the russian workmen, and occasionally damaged their magazines. [sidenote: recreations of the army.] the army, french, english, and sardinians, as well as the few turkish troops, prepared for the winter with energy, but no steps were taken to operate against the enemy. balaklava presented a singular aspect. there were only some dozen of the original houses left scattered amid iron storehouses, mountainous piles of wood, heaps of coal, of corn, of forage, of shot and shell, and of stores multitudinous. the harbour was trenched upon by new quays and landing-places, and two long wooden jetties projected far into its waters at the shallow head of the harbour, and rendered good service in taking the pressure off the quays at the waterside. _the quantity of corn issued for horses, mules, and ponies in the english army was_ , lb. _daily_. many of the officers were hutted, some constructed semi-subterranean residences, and the camp was studded all over with the dingy roofs, which at a distance looked much like an aggregate of molehills. in order to prevent _ennui_ or listlessness after the great excitement of so many months in the trenches, the generals of division began to drill our veterans, and to renew the long-forgotten pleasures of parades, field-days, and inspections. in all parts of the open ground about the camps, the visitor might have seen men with crimean medals and balaklava and inkerman clasps, practising goose-step or going through extension movements, learning, in fact, the a b c of their military education, though they had already seen a good deal of fighting and soldiering. still there were periods when the most inveterate of martinets rested from their labour, and the soldier, having nothing else to do, availed himself of the time and money at his disposal to indulge in the delights of the canteen. road-making occupied some leisure hours, but the officers had very little to do, and found it difficult to kill time, riding about sebastopol, visiting balaklava, foraging at kamiesch, or hunting for quail, which were occasionally found in swarms all over the steppe, and formed most grateful additions to the mess-table. there was no excitement in front; the russians remained immovable in their position at mackenzie's farm. the principal streets of sebastopol lost the charm of novelty and possession. even cathcart's hill was deserted, except by the "look-out officer" for the day, or by a few wandering strangers and visitors. book viii. the attitude of the two armies--the demonstrations from baidar--the reconnaissance--the march from eupatoria--its failure--the expedition to kinburn and odessa. chapter i. strange inaction--what might have been done--the north side--its fortifications--sick officers--french reconnaissances towards aitodor--an ambuscade--the mounted staff corps and the ambulance corps disbanded--comforts for the sick--previous mistakes--disbandment of the naval brigade--its services--rumours of active service--road-making--the russians renew the fire--a serious accident--the sailors' experiment--an explosion. the contrast between the actual proceedings of the allied armies and the fevered dreams in which the public at home, as represented by the press, soon after the capture of the south side, indulged, was as striking as it was painful. the russians, so far from flying in discomfort over boundless wastes, calmly strengthened their position on the north side. the face of the country bristled with their cannon and their batteries. day and night the roar of their guns sounded through our camp, and occasionally equalled the noise of the old cannonades, which we hoped had died into silence for ever. there was no sign of any intention on their part to abandon a position on which they had lavished so much care and labour. they retired from the south side when it became untenable; it had been shaken to pieces by a bombardment which it was impracticable for us to renew. in their new position, they had placed between themselves and us a deep arm of the sea, a river, and the sides of a plateau as steep as a wall. we permitted them to get off at their leisure, and looked on, much as we might have gazed on the mimic representation of such a scene at astley's, while the russian battalions filed over the narrow bridge, emerging in unbroken order out of that frightful sea of raging fire and smoke, which was tossed up into billows of flame by the frequent explosion of great fortresses and magazines. [sidenote: the army hutted.] with the aid of a few men the army would have been ready to take the field and to carry provisions and ammunition for our available strength of bayonets detached on a short expedition. as to the french, they had certified their mobility by the rapid demonstration of four divisions on baidar. then, why did not the english move? orders and counter-orders were sent day after day--requisitions on captain this to know how many mules he had to carry ball cartridge, orders to captain that to turn out his battery for the purpose of taking the field at daybreak next morning; counter-orders in the evening recountered and retracted at night, till it was hard to say what was to be done; and if the men who gave the commands were in half as confused a state of mind as those who received them, they were indeed in a pitiable plight. cato with his _plato_ could not have been at all puzzled like unto them. it was quite evident that the expectations of the people at home were not gratified to the full extent, that we were not in undisputed possession of maritime sebastopol, that the russians were not utterly defeated, and that the campaign would have to be renewed the following year by doing what might have been done immediately after the fall of the place. large parties of our men went down every day to sebastopol, and returned with timber, doors, window-frames, joists, slabs of marble and stonework, grates, glass, locks, iron, stourbridge firebricks, of which a large quantity was found, and various other articles of common use in camp, and the huts which arose on every side were models of ingenuity in the adaptation of russian property to british and french uses. however, the vast majority of the soldiers were under canvas, and were then likely to be so for a couple of months longer. the trenches--those monuments of patient suffering, of endurance, of courage--were fast disappearing. the guns were withdrawn. the gabions were going fast, for the men received permission to use them for fuel. it was melancholy, amid all these sounds of rejoicing and victory, to think that an army had been all but lost and swallowed up in these narrow dykes, and that it was "done by mistake." the firing into the town was occasionally very heavy, and was returned with spirit by the french mortars, and by a few guns in position. the number of sick officers anxious to return home was not on the decrease. many of those whose names appeared in general orders were, however, sufferers in the attack of the th of september. the proportion of men invalided on account of ill-health was about equal to the number of officers. poor fellows! they, however, had no "private urgent affairs" to attend to, and that was the cause assigned for many "leaves of absence." it is curious and interesting to observe how rank and social position carry with them special cares of business and the labour of affairs from which the lowlier classes are exempted. thus, the officers of the guards seemed to be harassed to death by "urgent private affairs," which could no how be settled anywhere but in england, and which required their presence in that land of business from october till just the week after christmas before there was the smallest chance of their satisfactory adjustment. how the gallant fellows could have managed to stay in the army and attend to their regimental duties with such delicate negotiations to conduct, such stupendous arithmetical investigations to make, such a coil of accounts to examine, such interviews to go through, such a constant pressure of affairs to sustain, is inconceivable! sometimes no less than three of them succumbed on the same day, and appeared in orders as victims to these cruel urgencies. there were some people in camp who maintained that the killing of grouse, partridges, pheasants, and salmon, is a necessary condition of existence, and that when these were combined with the pleasures of society, with a light course of opera, and the claims of the family, they constituted an urgent private affair quite strong enough to draw any man from the crimea. no one blamed these officers for feeling so strongly that they were citizens. we should all have liked to get home if it had been consistent with our duty, but some of our officers think they have nothing to do when once the fighting is over. after a time, our allies began to feel their way towards the enemy's position on our rear and on the right. the position of the armies, with the exception of the movement of the troops towards baidar, remained unchanged in its larger features. pelissier seemed inclined to rest upon his bâton for the time. his gaze was fixed, no doubt, upon the mackenzie plateau, but his courage failed him; nor did he care to repeat his little proverb, which was in his mouth when slaughter and bloodshed were spoken of in his presence in reference to our grand assaults--"on ne peut pas faire des omelettes sans casser des oeufs." the marshal gave up the manufacture of omelettes: he had plenty of eggs if he had liked to break them. [sidenote: preparations for stagnation.] after the siege was over, the mounted staff corps and the ambulance corps ceased to exist, and the duke of newcastle left the camp on a cruise to the coast of circassia. of course the duke of newcastle's presence had no more to do with the fate of these bodies than it had with the conduct and events of the war, but it was odd enough that the two, which were most lauded at the time of their creation, and at whose birth his grace presided with parental solicitude, should have come to an end, within the space of a few months, under his very eyes. the service of the ambulance was performed by soldiers detached from the army for that purpose, and officers of the line were employed in command of them at a time when they could be very ill spared from their regiments. charges of harshness were made by those sent in their charge to scutari, &c., against some of the old ambulance men; they at all events served as a foil to the allegations that the men were as comfortable as they could be made on all occasions. the stream set the other way, and the authorities vied with one another in providing every accommodation, and even luxury, for the sick and wounded soldier. dr. hall at various periods received requisitions for such articles as "rose water!" "eau de cologne!" "champagne!" different times these from what the army had the year before, when sir george brown, like some great bull of basan, went bellowing over the camps of the affrighted light division, seeking for "medical comforts," that he might devour them in his wrath, and goring and butting dr. alexander and dr. tice because they would not reduce their store of medicines to that blessed old peninsular allowance of which sir george had only the dim recollections of a subaltern, although, with many strange oaths and ancient instances, he affirmed them to be the perfection of pharmaceutical wisdom. perhaps the public, "the confounded public," as they were sometimes called by certain people, agreed with me in thinking that things might have been, mended when they learned that just two hours before the attack on the redan the surgeon in the quarries was "run out" of lint, plaster, and bandages, and could get no one to go up to his principal medical officer for them for a long time, although a great action with the enemy was then just impending, and the quarries were the very place where a large number of casualties must have been expected. this statement i had on the word of a general officer, to whom the surgeon applied for assistance. again, some regiments did not take down more litters than on ordinary occasions. this practice, however, would be approved by those who maintain, with considerable strength of argumentation, that no wounded officers or men should be taken off the field at all while an action was going on, inasmuch as every wounded man taken to the rear carries off six or eight combatants, who retire on the pretence of carrying or attending on him, thus affording opportunities for skulking and sneaking away to a few cowardly men who set a bad example to others. the army was amused by rumours of active service, while in camp there were signs of hybernation. the work of the army was actually that of preparation, not for motion, but for stagnation. the men were engaged on great roads from the ports to the front, which will be permanent marks of the occupation of this portion of the crimea by the allied armies for centuries; in fact, with so much labour at their disposal, our authorities were determined, if possible, to atone for the apathy of the autumn before. the roads which we made were almost beyond the requirements of an army of temporary occupation. they were broad and well paved--in some places they had been tunnelled through the rock, which here and there could only be removed by heavy blasting charges. the railway assumed an appearance of great activity. beside it wound the central road, and from the new central depôt, removed from the col de balaklava to an open space in the rear of the second division, and between the guards' brigade and the fourth division, there were divisional roads, which communicated with the divisional depôts. all these preparations were made to enable the army to exist comfortably in its winter cantonments, to bring up huts, food, clothing, and fuel, and to remove guns, mortars, &c., from the front. for these peaceful labours we were blessed by the most lovely weather. the days were warm, and the air was charmingly fresh and pure. the autumnal or second summer of the crimea shone upon us with all the delightful influences of repose. the earth teemed again with herbs and flowers of autumn. numerous bulbous plants sprung up over the steppes, among which the _colchicum autumnale_ held a prominent place, and the hill-sides rung with the frequent volleys directed upon innumerable quail, against which our army waged fierce battle. on the th of september, a shell sent by the russians burst close to the barracks, and a merchant sailor ran to look at the crater which it formed in the ground. he then entered the building itself, and sauntered about, smoking his pipe till he came to some loose gunpowder, on which, being of a scientific and experimentalizing turn of mind, he tried the effects of dropping several sparks from the burning tobacco. the powder, as is not unusual in such cases, exploded with violence, and blew up the sailor and a sentry outside. they were both dreadfully burnt. as the floor was covered with cartridges and loose powder, the fire spread to a large quantity of combustible matter, reached the magazine, and blew out the walls and ceilings of the central barrack. the flames set fire to the dry woodwork, and in a short time the whole pile of buildings, which were of admirable construction, was in a blaze. all that remained of the imperial barracks of sebastopol in an hour more was a mass of charred and blackened stones. the russians, thinking that the accident had been caused by their own fire, plied their guns with increased vigour, and threw shot and shell around the place, but did no damage. the act destroyed not less than , cartloads of wood, which might have been made available for hutting and fuel. it was, on the whole, a miracle that more accidents of the kind did not occur, owing to the neglect of the authorities and the carelessness of the men. no one seemed to think it necessary to destroy the great quantities of powder, loose and in cartridges, in all the russian batteries, and in every nook and corner of the place. it was only a day or two before the accident that a naval officer pointed out to me the danger arising from the number of live shell lying inside the redan. the fuses were simply open tubes of wood, and had no caps, so that a spark setting fire to one fuse would cause all the shells to explode. these live shells were to be seen in all directions, generally nicely imbedded near small magazines or piles of cartridges. chapter ii. the mixed commission: its composition and proceedings--spoils of war--doctors in dudgeon--strength of the army in october, --state of the russian army--the deserter's tale--newspaper paragraph--honours to the commanders--preparations for an expedition--russian account of the capture of sebastopol--general simpson's despatch--wellington's circular to all commanding officers of divisions and brigades, dated frenada, november th, . [sidenote: the mixed commission.] on the th of july, , a treaty was entered into between france and england with respect to the distribution of booty and trophies, which authorized the french and english governments to form a mixed commission for the purpose of classifying and arranging such articles. in compliance with this provision, immediately after the capture of sebastopol, marshal pelissier named the following officers on behalf of the french army:--general of division niel, aide-de-camp de l'empéreur, president, and commanding the engineers; general of division thiry, commanding artillery; admiral regault de genouilly, commanding marine artillery; m. paris, intendant (commissary-general); m. budin, payeur-général. general simpson named the following officers for the english army:--sir g. dacres, commanding royal artillery; captain drummond, r.n.; colonel chapman, commanding royal engineers; mr. drake, assistant-commissary-general. it will be observed that the english officers were not equal in rank or numbers to the french members of the commission. the commission met on the th of september at the quarters of general niel. its first act was to order an inventory in detail to be made of everything found in sebastopol. to effect this the city and forts were divided, and the care of exploring each part devolved upon sub-commissions. the following is a list of the members of the sub-commissions:-- french. mazure, général d'artillerie. feldtrappe, capitaine du génie. laurent, lieutenant de vaisseau. cicoza, capitaine d'artillerie. goutier, adjoint à l'intendance. de calac, capitaine d'artillerie. cadurst, chef de bataillon du génie. genoux de la coche, capitaine de frégate. la cabrinière, sous-intendant. english. captain drummond, r.n. brigadier-general dupuis, r.a. major staunton, r.e. commander f. martin, r.n. assistant-commissary-general crookshank. captain shaw, r.a. a. rumble, r.m.a. lieutenant buller, r.n. captain montagu, r.e. assistant-commissary-general lundy. captain dickson, r.a. a. w. johnson, secretary to the commission. on the th of september the commission held its second sitting, and all the members were present except general thiry, who was represented by general mazare. that officer and brigadier-general dupuis, as presidents of the sub-commission, then laid on the table a detailed statement of everything found in sebastopol. the number of cannon in bronze (brass) was ; that of iron guns, , ; total, , . the president read the convention of the th of july, and it was then unanimously agreed that the guns should be divided into two equal parts, paying due regard to the different calibres, and that one-half should be sent to france, the other half to great britain, with the exception of two brass field-pieces, which should be offered to general della marmora, with the approbation of the commanders-in-chief. it was also resolved that these cannon and guns should remain in sebastopol, and in the redoubts and fortifications of kamiesch and balaklava, till such time as they were not required for the defence of the place, when each government might do what it liked with its own share. these decisions, taken conformably to the first act of the convention, left the valuation of the pieces out of the question; but by the th article of the same convention it is agreed that the value of the booty, &c., shall be divided between the two powers proportionally to the number of men employed by each in the siege. the effective strength of the anglo-sardinian army on the th of september was , men, and that of the french army on the same day was , men. the commission, therefore, decided that france should have two-thirds, and great britain one-third of the _value_ of the booty and trophies. [sidenote: the spoils of war.] it was declared impossible to fix the value of the guns immediately, in consequence of want of sufficient information and of the necessity of employing the iron guns in the defence of the place. the commission, therefore, passed on to the partition of the other _matériel_ taken, and divided the following into three parts, two for france, and one-third for england, with the understanding that they are to remain for the supply of the defence:-- , round shot; shell, , ; canister cases, , ; gunpowder, , lb.; ball-cartridges for muskets and carbines, , in good condition, and , damaged; waggons, ; yawls, ; logs of _lignum vitæ_, ; anchors of port moorings, ; anchors of different sizes, ; grapplings and small anchors, ; chains for anchors, yards; old copper for sheathing, , lb.; old ropes, , lb.; water-casks, ; new ropes of different sizes, , lb.; pulleys, ; spars, ; tools, ; bar iron and steel, l, , lb.; iron wire, lb.; iron checks, lb.; sheet iron, , lb.; tin plate, , lb.; red copper, , lb.; nails, , lb.; firwood, a large quantity; pitch and tar, barrels; barrels of paint, ; small boilers, weighing , lb.; the remains of a steam-engine of -horse power, taken out of a steamer burnt by the russians; large copper boilers, weighing , lb., ; old copper, , lb.; copper screws, , lb.; old iron, , lb.; large bells, ; small bells, ; hospital beds, ; iron forges, in great numbers; main tackles, ; coal, , tons; steam-engines, of -horse power, for the basins, ; large pumps, for the basins, ; iron boilers, ; one high-pressure engine of -horse power, for the basins; iron cranes, ; an engine of -horse power in the military bakery; two dredging machines of -horse power, unserviceable; a still, a clock, six marble statues, two sphinxes, a large basso-relievo; biscuit, tons; flour, ; barley, ; buckwheat, ; oats, ; millet, ; wheat, ; peas, - / ; salt meat, ; wheat in the granaries, quarters, &c. the commission having examined the quantity and quality of the breadstuffs found in the magazines, declared them unfit for the use of the allied armies, and decided that they should be sent to eupatoria for the support of the tartars, to whom the allies furnish subsistence. the french intendance is charged with the duty of transporting these supplies. they consisted of , sacks, weighing tons, of black bread, sacks or tons of flour, sacks or tons of barley; , sacks or tons of black barley, tons of hay, tons of millet, tons of barley, - / tons of peas, tons of salt meat, and quarters of barley in the granaries. the commission decided further that the few objects of art found in the place should be placed at the disposal of the generals-in-chief, and finished the sitting by nominating as secretary m. de genoux, capitaine de frégate, mr. johnson, naval instructor, being named as english secretary. the third sitting took place on the th of september, and the subject of their deliberation was the valuation of the guns. as the calibres of the russian artillery do not correspond with those of the allies, it was decided unanimously that in the valuation of the guns they should only estimate the value of the metal, which was fixed at f. c. per kilogramme for brass guns, and at c. for iron guns. one of the members observed, that among the brass guns there were two turkish field-pieces, and it was at once declared to be the wish of the commanders to put these guns at the disposal of the ottoman porte. it was further decided that, as many of the articles could not be divided, such a distribution should take place as might be best arranged, and, accordingly, a high-pressure engine of -horse power, a distilling machine, and a clock were comprised in the french list, and in the english a high-pressure engine of -horse power and a furnace. as it would be impossible to divide the wood of the houses and buildings to be demolished, the city itself was portioned out, and to the english was allotted the eastern, and to the french the western part. the following is a part of the english return:-- guns in malakoff, redan, &c. serviceable. unserviceable. -inch guns to - / inch ditto to - / ditto to - / ditto smaller calibres -inch mortars -inch ditto brass cohorns, to - / inch brass field-pieces wall pieces ----- --- total guns , --- ----- total , the return includes eight -inch and two - / -inch brass guns. number live powder and small of shot. shell. grape. shell. ammunition. , , , , , lb. of powder; , lb. of ammunition. three small bells and one large one, of fine tones. two marine condensing steam-engines of -horse power, in good condition, nearly new £ , three large pumps for pumping out the docks, in good condition, with gear complete , three iron boilers for engines , spare gear for the above blocks, with brass sheaves one -horse power engine, for pumping out cofferdam, not complete three ton cranes, good , one ditto, not fixed, good one -horse power condensing engine, for bakery one -horse high pressure engine, incomplete, with gear packed in cases iron boiler and iron chimney, complete copper boiler, for steaming plank pair of -horse power marine engines, unfit for use, original value , eight copper boilers for ditto, repairable, tons , patent ship cradle dredging machine, &c. , ------ copper, pumps, forges, hydraulic pump , cranes, &c. , ------ total £ , this, taken with the french return, gives the total in the list; but there were an immense number of small articles which would swell this inventory to a formidable extent. the karabelnaïa, or english side, it will be observed, contained the largest and most valuable portion of the articles captured. the fourteen bells were divided thus--one of · kilos. french parc de siége, one cwt. ditto, one cwt. ditto, one · kilos. at right siege train, another of · kilos. at ditto, one · kilos. at french parc de siége, one · kilos. at right siege train, one of cwt. at parc de siége, one of qrs. lb. at ditto, ditto; one of qrs. lb. at parc du moulin; one of · kilos. at right siege train; one of · lb. at french parc de siége; one of · kilos. at general mazare's office. [sidenote: angry doctors.] the mixed commission combined the functions of the three infernal judges with great skill, and was by turns minos, Æacus, and rhadamanthus--for, although it condemned no one to death, it consigned many worthless bodies of _matériel_ to destruction. its deliberations were perturbed, if not suspended, by the attentions of the enemy's cannoneers, for the street in which the house of the commissioners was situate was selected with a view to remind them of the value of guns, balls, and gunpowder, as it was completely enfiladed by the fire of one of the batteries. sometimes a shot bumped against the walls of the mansion, and shook the bodies corporate, though it did not disturb the nerves of the members. sometimes a shell blurted into the rooms, and routed outlying artists as they sketched the ruins of sebastopol. but the commissioners pursued and terminated their labours. it is generally known that englishmen like to grumble. is it true that england gives them reason for indulging in their notorious tendencies? now, for instance, the doctors (in common with nearly every class of officers) were highly indignant at the alleged neglect and indifference of the authorities to their claims. is it to be understood that english military surgeons are not entitled to any honorary reward? lord panmure did not say so, but he let lord raglan's shade stand betwixt him and the angry doctors. the case stood thus:--after the publication of the lists of brevets, promotions, and decorations of the bath, &c., dr. hall, urged thereunto by sundry weighty considerations, addressed an energetic and reasonable letter to dr. andrew smith, animadverting upon, or at least pointing distinctly to, the exclusion of the surgeons of the army from the rewards bestowed with no niggard hand upon their comrades of the staff and of the regiments. dr. smith sent that letter to lord panmure, and his lordship, who has not studied polemical divinity for nothing, and is, moreover, a capital hand at finding out a good official excuse, replied to it, and met the case by a plea of confession and avoidance. nothing would his lordship be more ready, nothing was he more anxious to do, than to recommend deserving medical officers for promotion, but the fact was, that he was in utter ignorance of the deserts of the gentlemen in question; for, on looking to lord raglan's despatches, he found that the field-marshal had never said a good word for any of that genus or species of man-militant. they could not even boast of the official damnation of a faint applause from head-quarters, nor was there much solid pudding to compensate for the want of empty praise from which they suffered. although these officers did not wish to be placed under a system of supervision like that of the french intendance, they felt that such a course would at least relieve them from much responsibility and consequent blame, and that it would secure to them special mention and official recognition of meritorious services or of extraordinary exertion. in one case, at least, i know for a fact that a general of division, with many of the oaths which he lavished in enforcing professions of earnestness and sincerity, declared to the principal medical officer of his division that he had intended to mention him specially to lord raglan, for his zeal and devotion after the battle of the alma, but that he had unfortunately forgotten to do so in his despatch. "however, he would. he would, by ----, do so at once--write a despatch," and so on. did he? if he did, lord raglan never paid the least attention to it. the wretched jealousies of our system were contagious. the instant a civilian became connected with the army he was caught at once, and became involved with a, b, or c. the military surgeons were jealous of--well, they did not like--the civil surgeons. the latter thought the former assumed too many airs, and that they despised the civil element, which was fresher from the hospitals, and knew a great deal more about the theories of the day than besworded and bespurred fogies who swore by lawrence or larrey. there was an internecine battle of "corps," which was chiefly developed in brisk affairs of outposts. what man of the line or guards was not "down" on the engineers? what engineer had recovered the mortal wounds inflicted on him by lazy soldiers who would not work in the trenches? was not that "confounded naval brigade, that gets all the praise," an eyesore and a stumbling-block to the ill-used siege train? were not the infantry tickled with ironical mirth at the notion that the cavalry had done anything? were not the cavalry wroth that they should have been turned into draymen, porters, and hewers of wood and drawers of water for the infantry during the winter? the royal horse artillery had similar grievances. as to the contests between commissariat officers and land transport officers, if smothered by official forms, they blazed below the paper. the navvies waged _horrida bella_ with the commissariat department. the quartermaster-general's department tried to do as little as it could in the way of complying with the requests of the army works corps. the railway and the road-making interest were by no means on the best possible terms. the ambulance corps, while it still existed in the body, was savagely tickled up, probed, walked into, reported upon, and attacked by the doctors; and as to higher quarters-- "tantæne animis coelestibus iræ?" in the first week of october the army was in excellent health. it was almost as numerous as that with which the duke fought the battle of vittoria. the infantry numbered , ; the cavalry , ; the artillery , --in fine, general simpson had under his command not less than , effective men. there were few matters of complaint; but an army is insatiable, and its providers must be as thoughtful and foreseeing as ants. vast piles of stores disappeared in a day. to all commissariat officers at balaklava it might be well said--"_nulla fronti fides_,"--"have no faith in the front." [sidenote: esprit de corps.] of the condition of the russian army encamped on the belbek nothing certain could be known, but now and then one got a glimpse of the world beyond the adverse sentries. there were many races in the russian army, but none seemed willing to desert except the poles, and the number of disaffected soldiers who came over to us was very small indeed. the pickets now and then brought in some footsore, ragged, emaciated, sickly-looking deserter, who told a sad tale of want and suffering. was he a dolon or not? the last two who arrived at general simpson's, a pole and a russian, were in such a condition as to excite the liveliest compassion among our soldiers. their clothes were in rags, and the fragments of their boots scarcely clung to their feet. they came from the army near baidar, and stated that all the men were in the same condition; that all they had to eat was bread or biscuit and barley, that they got no meat, and had only occasional issues of quarter rations of vodka, or spirits; and these two men were observed to laugh and throw up their hands in surprise as they passed the great piles of provisions accumulated at our depôt on the col. they said they were laughing at the lies which had been told to them. their officers said that the allies were starving, and had no forage for their horses. colonel blane sent down sergeant gillespie, of the provost marshal's department, under whose immediate control all prisoners were placed, to the russian stores of sebastopol, to get them greatcoats and clothing, but he could not find any boots; it was observed that there were no boots in store when the place was taken, and that the sixty-two prisoners, who were found drunk and asleep amid the ruins, were badly dressed and ill provided with shoes or boots. the men taken in affairs of outposts by the sardinians were in the same state, and it was evident that the russians were rapidly declining in condition. they got lb. of bread or - / lb. of biscuit a day, and a little barley, which they boiled into a kind of soup; this constituted their rations. they were kept alive by assurances that the allies must soon go, and then they would have the spoils of the english camp, which was rich in everything but food. most of these men were exceedingly tractable, and were excellent servants so long as they were not allowed rum. one of them, a polish non-commissioned officer, was of great use, but he was seized with an unconquerable desire to join the polish legion at varna, and got as far as odessa, when he was recognized and shot as a deserter. for some time the actual work of the army consisted in preparations for the winter on the plateau, dismantling the houses of the city for wood, and destroying the trenches for the sake of the gabions, which burned well and saved fuel. sebastopol gradually came up piecemeal to the camp. doors, windows, locks, hinges, fireplaces, stoves, pictures, chairs, tables, beams of wood, roofing, ceiling, flooring, sheet-lead, rolled copper, cut stone, crockery, and innumerable articles of every description, were brought up by carts, horses, ponies, and by men, every day in great quantities, and were found most useful in the construction and ornamentation of our huts. there were very few officers who had not got some trophies; arms of various descriptions, greatcoats, and helmets are the most common; but pictures of saints, often embellished by the finders with grotesque adornments of moustachios, short pipes, and eye-glasses, and portraits of the late czar, which had not quite escaped the spirit of improvement manifested by our soldiery, were very common. many articles of english workmanship abounded, and canary birds sang and flowers bloomed amid all the murky horrors of these blood-stained casements. all the shot and shell were collected, and the french gave their soldiers about - / _d._ or _d._ for each -inch shell or large shot which they brought up to certain depôts indicated for the purpose. the road made great progress. upwards of , men were engaged upon it daily, and if mr. doyne could have procured more tools from the quartermaster-general, the work would have gone on still faster; but he experienced considerable difficulty in getting the authorities to comply with his requisitions, although he handed over the _matériel_ of the corps to them when he arrived in the crimea. labour was ample, and was not denied; the tools were, however, worn out and worthless, and we were guilty of the very bad economy, in a country like the crimea, where skilled labour cost so much, of repairing implements which had been damaged or used up, instead of issuing new ones. many of these tools belonged to the engineers' department, and were completely worked up by the sappers and miners during the siege. no, we were _not_ perfect even yet. though sebastopol was ours, there _were_ little blurs and blotches which might have been removed from our administrative escutcheon by very small labour. we borrowed flour from the french, and from the sardinians, and, as we had been liberal lenders, they could not complain of our making small requisitions upon them now and then. [sidenote: flags of truce.] although forts alexander and nicholas were nearly intact, the russians resolved not to spare them, and the effect of their practice upon them proved that the stone of which they were composed would not resist a lengthened and continuous fire at close quarters. when their shot hit the stones at the angle of the fort, they generally split and broke the outer masonry. the stones were of white freestone, cut in long parallelograms, and if a shot struck the middle of a block it generally split it right through, so that a few projectiles at any one point would speedily destroy all cohesion, and crumble the wall into a breach. still, the forts were beautifully built, and were of very great strength, notwithstanding the inferior nature of the building material. they were all reared upon capacious vaults of solid masonry, and the casemates, curtains, and parapets were of prodigious thickness, and of very superior finish and workmanship. if a line-of-battle ship could have got alongside, she could soon have destroyed fort alexander, or any fort built of similar material. the enemy suspected that the french were making a battery behind fort alexander, and they shelled frequently in that direction; and, knowing the position of the mortar battery behind fort nicholas, they directed a pretty constant vertical fire on the guard behind that work. a boat was sent round from kamiesch to the harbour whenever a flag of truce appeared. gortschakoff being pleased to consider that the south side of sebastopol belonged to the allies, suggested that it would save much time and inconvenience if a boat was kept in the dockyard harbour, near fort paul, so as to be ready to go out with or for communications in cases of armistice, several of which, relating to prisoners' property, exchange of letters, &c., had then recently taken place. the russians always came across, in very well-appointed, handsome boats, manned with picked crews of well-dressed, clean-looking sailors, and the officers sent on the duty were generally very accomplished linguists and agreeable men. they were, however, very strict and very sharp in their practice as regards flags of truce, being extremely jealous of the smallest informality, and quick in firing the instant the flag of truce was hauled down. they insisted that the malakoff had been taken by a surprise, and that all the garrison, except those who could get into the casemates, had gone off to enjoy their _siesta_ when the french rushed in; but they admitted that the town was getting too hot to hold them, and that our fire was too heavy to be much longer withstood. had they possessed mortars with which to reply to our vertical fire, they say they would have held out for another year at least, "but the army of defence, with a deep seaway in its rear, with one flank menaced by a fleet, and the other by the works at inkerman, so that in reality its centre was only effective, could not strategically resist an army of attack which had such advantages of position." our siege-train and artillery and naval brigade, according to the russians, took the town, as by their fire they made its defence impossible. during the last two bombardments from french and english, the garrison "lived in holes like rats," and the telling-off of reliefs and moving of reserves were always attended with danger and certain loss. was it old turenne who said, "more battles were won by the spade than by the musket?" we won all ours by the bayonet and musket alone, and we certainly suffered great loss and were exposed to much disadvantage from not being able to approach within yards of the redan, whereas the french got up to the abattis of the malakoff, and within mètres of the parapet. our gallant allies could, indeed, spare more men to work, and could afford to lose more in the approaches, than we could. that their labours were not light, or their casualties trifling, we may infer from the fact that they lost not less than officers of engineers in the siege, of whom were killed. as labourers, our soldiers are not equal to the french, and are far inferior to the russians. our engineers complained that the only regiments that worked well were the guards and some of the rifle brigade, and that the irish and scotch regiments did not know how to handle the tools used in military works. in fact, only those soldiers who were originally agricultural labourers, and were therefore used to the spade and pick, can get through the labours usually required for the construction of approaches or defences. herdsmen, gillies, sworddancers, huntsmen, deer-stalkers, mowers, hodmen, mechanics, and town labourers, however strong, active, and willing, and wherever they come from, cannot use the implements which are put into their hands by sappers and miners, and it would be exceedingly desirable to teach men who may be employed in such works how to work and what to do with the tools. general simpson's despatch respecting the operations on the th of september gave considerable satisfaction. it afforded evidence that the commander-in-chief could rise above the very dead level of the uninteresting general orders which will make the records of this army intolerable to the patience and not easy to the digestion of the most resolute and hardy antiquarian in times to come. who will venture to publish our despatches? and yet we had notable penmen at head-quarters, who were at their vocation night and day, and who injured their tempers and manners by incessant scrivenery, the results of which were buried in the pigeon-holes of whitehall, never to be seen even in the lively pages of a blue-book. the french authorities entered less into detail and exhibited less penmanship. if an englishman presented himself at the french head-quarters, or made any application in writing for passes to the trenches, or such slight facilities, he was presented with them at once, in a manner which enhanced the value of the obligation. if he wrote to the adjutant-general of the english army, the chances were that he would never receive any answer to his letter, although his request were of the smallest kind, unless indeed he happened to belong to the _dii minores_, or possessed such recommendations as had full consideration in the eyes of that dignitary of the army. and even now it is not too late to reproduce a despatch of a very different character from those we read of in the _london gazette_ or in general orders. it was, indeed, no less applicable to our army than it was when it was written, and the truths it contained were as patent and as pregnant with value and interest as they had been nearly half a century ago. the writer says,-- "i have no hesitation in attributing these evils--of irregularities, of bad cooking, and of want of discipline--to the habitual inattention of the officers of regiments to their duty, as prescribed by the standing regulations of the service and by the orders of this army. [sidenote: british officers and soldiers.] "i am far from questioning the zeal, still less the gallantry and spirit, of the officers of the army; and i am quite certain that if their minds can be convinced of the necessity of minute and constant attention to understand, recollect, and carry into execution the orders which have been issued for the performance of their duty, and that the strict performance of this duty is necessary to enable the army to serve the country as it ought to be served, they will in future give their attention to these points. "unfortunately, the inexperience of the officers of the army has induced many to consider that the period during which an army is on service is one of relaxation from all rule, instead of being, as it is, the period during which, of all others, every rule for the regulation and control of the conduct of the soldier, for the inspection and care of his arms, ammunition, accoutrements, necessaries, and field equipments, and his horse and horse appointments--for the receipt, and issue, and care of his provisions, and the regulation of all that belongs to his food and the forage for his horse--must be most strictly attended to by the officers of his company or troop, if it is intended that an army--a british army in particular--shall be brought into the field of battle in a state of efficiency to meet the enemy on the day of trial. "these are the points, then, to which i most earnestly entreat you to turn your attention and the attention of the officers of the regiments under your command--portuguese as well as english--during the period in which it may be in my power to leave the troops in their cantonments. the commanding officers of regiments must enforce the orders of the army regarding the constant inspection and superintendence of the officers over the conduct of the men of their companies in their cantonments; and they must endeavour to inspire the non-commissioned officers with the sense of their situation and authority; and the non-commissioned officers must be forced to their duty, by being constantly under the view and superintendence of the officers. by these means, the frequent and discreditable recourse to the authority of the provost, and to punishments by the sentence of courts-martial, will be prevented, and the soldiers will not dare to commit the offences and outrages of which there are too many complaints, when they well know that their officers and their non-commissioned officers have their eyes and attention turned towards them. "the commanding officers of regiments must likewise enforce the orders of the army regarding the constant, real inspection of the soldiers' arms, ammunition, accoutrements, and necessaries, in order to prevent at all times the shameful waste of ammunition, and the sale of that article and of the soldiers' necessaries. with this view both should be inspected daily. "_in regard to the food of the soldier, i have frequently observed and lamented in the late campaign the facility and celerity with which the french soldiers cooked in comparison with those of our army._ "the cause of this disadvantage is the same with that of every other description--the want of attention of the officers to the orders of the army, and the conduct of their men, and the consequent want of authority over their conduct. certain men of each company should be appointed to cut and bring in wood; others to fetch water, and others to get the meat, &c., to be cooked; and it will soon be found that, if this practice were daily enforced, and a particular hour for seeing the dinners and for the men dining named, as it ought to be, equally as for parade, the cooking would no longer require the inconvenient length of time which it has lately been found to take, and the soldiers would not be exposed to the privation of their food at the moment at which the army might be engaged in operations with the enemy. "you will, of course, give your attention to the field exercise and discipline of the troops. it is very desirable that the soldiers should not lose the habits of marching, and the division should march ten or twelve miles twice in each week, if the weather should permit, and the roads in the neighbourhood of the cantonments of the division should be dry." now, the writer of this "offensive production" was arthur, duke of wellington, and it is an extract of a circular addressed to all commanding officers of divisions and brigades, dated frenada, nov. , . it was not the duke's province to inquire into the reason of "this want of attention to the men" of which he complains; but in a service in which there were only two captains in a regiment, and all the other officers except the colonel and major were boys who had seen but a few weeks' service, intent only on champagne, tarts, good grub, dog-hunts, and horse-races, it was not wonderful if the same thing occurred in the crimea in . the testimony of lieutenant-general sir henry bentinck to the good conduct and services of the fourth division, during the period he commanded it, was read with interest:-- extract from divisional orders, dated _october _. "private and important family affairs compelling lieutenant-general sir h. bentinck, k.c.b., to return to england, he cannot relinquish the command of the fourth division without expressing the great regret with which he does so. "although he has only had the command of it for the short period of little more than four months (but during a very eventful period), he has witnessed with great satisfaction the manner in which all ranks have conducted most difficult, arduous, and dangerous duties, with a spirit, energy, and good humour not to be surpassed. [sidenote: expedition to odessa.] "having already expressed to brigadier-general garrett on his quitting the division, and to brigadier-general the honourable a. spencer and the first brigade, on the morning of their departure on another expedition, his opinion of their services, it only remains for sir henry bentinck to thank colonel wood, the officers, non-commissioned officers, and men of the royal artillery, and the commanding officers, officers, and non-commissioned officers and men of the second brigade, for the assistance they have at all times rendered him; and he cannot refrain from expressing his high approbation of the manner in which all ranks have done their duty to their queen and country. "the lieutenant-general begs to thank the staff officers of the division for their zeal and energy in the discharge of their duties, and he cannot conclude without expressing also his satisfaction at the manner in which dr. roberts has performed his; to the commissariat department and land transport corps of the division, to whom it is indebted for their supplies, and with a regularity seldom equalled, and reflecting great credit on the officers of those departments. "the lieutenant-general has only further, in taking leave of the division, to wish it renewed glory, and he will always feel the greatest interest in its proceedings generally, and of the regiments composing it particularly. "by order, "g. elliott, "deputy-acting-adjutant-general." chapter iii. expedition to kinburn--off odessa--objects of the expedition--appearance of the fleets--the english portion of the expedition--odessa from the sea--alarm on shore--the eternal cossacks--clouds, fog and vapours--signal gun--the fog thickens--arrangements for the attack--order of formation--plan of attack on kinburn--proceedings of the advanced squadron for buoying the dangers--a skirmish. at last it was determined by the allied governments that it was a mere waste of power to keep the armies and fleets inactive, and that "something must be done." the light brigade, under lord george paget, received orders to hold themselves in readiness to embark for eupatoria. a small corps of infantry was told off for the expedition which had been organized to make an attack upon kinburn in conjunction with the french. the english portion of the expedition was constituted as follows:-- +--------------------------------------------------------------------+ | line-of-battle ships. | | | | guns. | captains |troops on board. | royal | | | commanding. | |marines.| +-------------------------+--------------+------------------+--------+ |_royal albert_, } | | | | | sir e. lyons, } | | | | | g.c.b. &c., } | | | | | having on board } | | | | | brigadier-general } | | | | | spencer commanding} |w. r. mends | th regiment | | |_hannibal_, sir h. } | | | | | stewart, k.c.b., } | | | | | second in command } |j. hay | st regiment | | |[a]_agamemnon_ |sir j. pasley | | | |_algiers_ |c. talbot | th regiment | | |_st. jean d'acre_ |g. king | | | |_princess royal_ |l. jones | rd regiment | | | --- | | ---- | ---- | | | | | | | | | steam frigates, sloops, etc. | | | |_curaçoa_ |g. f. hastings| | | |_dauntless_ |a. p. ryder | | | |_firebrand_ |e. inglefield | | | |[a]_furious_ |w. loring | | | |_gladiator_ |c. hillyar | | | | | {|left wing, th, | | |_leopard_ |g. giffard {|and reserve | | | | {|ammunition | | |_odin_ |j. wilcox | | | | | {|right wing, th, | | |_sidon_ |g. goldsmith {|and reserve | | | | {|ammunition | | |_sphinx_ |a. wilmott | | | |_spiteful_ |f. shortt | | | |_spitfire_ |t. spratt | | | |_stromboli_ |r. hall | | | |_terrible_ |j. m'cleverty | | | |_tribune_ |j. r. drummond| | | |_triton_ |a.w.d.fletcher| | | |[ ]_valorous_ |c. buckle | | | |_vulcan_ |e. van donop | | | | --- | | ----| ---- | | totals | | | | +-------------------------+--------------+------------------+--------+ the british flotilla. smaller vessels. gun-boats. guns. commanders. . _arrow_ lt. w. k. jolliffe. . _clinker_ lt. hudson. . _cracker_ lt. marryat. . _fancy_ lt. grylls. . _moslem_ ---- . _lynx_ lt. c. m. aynsley. . _viper_ lt. h. comber. . _wrangler_ lt. burgoyne. . _beagle_ lt. howitt. . _snake_ lt. buckley. mortar-vessels--(captain digby commanding.) . _firm_ lt. leet, _st. jean d'acre_ lt. hewitt, r.m.a. . _hardy_ pierson, mate, _princess royal_ lt. foster, r.m.a. . _camel_ vaughan, mate, ditto lt. starr, r.m.a. . _flamer_ lt. creagh, _st. jean d'acre_ lt. brookes, r.m.a. . _magnet_ blunt, mate, _algiers_ lt. pitman, r.m.a. . _raven_ hunt, mate, _hannibal_ lt. festing, r.m.a. steam tenders, etc. _banshee._ _danube._ _brenda._ transports. no. freight, &c. _prince alfred_ royal artillery. _arabia_ royal artillery, &c. _orient_ medical staff--hospital ship. _lady alice lambton_ stores. _durham_ miscellaneous. _indian_ commissariat staff, &c. _charity_ civil land transport corps and commissariat stores. _colombo_ .. shot and shell, &c. _zebra_ fuel. _arthur gordon_ stores. dr. gordon, in medical charge of the expedition, surgeon foaker, second in charge, and a number of medical officers, embarked on board the _orient_. deputy-commissary-general (in charge of the expedition) tyrone power, assistant-commissary-general cumming, deputy-assistant-commissary-general sutherland, and commissariat clerk robinson; lieutenant wardlaw, and twenty dragoons, captain nicholson, r.e., lieutenant gordon, r.e., and lieutenant scratchley, r.e., in command of the sappers and miners, embarked on board the _orient_. major bent, royal engineers, embarked on board the _royal albert_. the first brigade of the fourth division marched down to kazatch on the th october, and proceeded to embark on board after they had been inspected by sir henry bentinck, k.c.b., commanding the division. brigadier-general spencer commanded the brigade, which was in very fine order, and formed a body of , men, many of them tried soldiers. the embarkation of the artillery and stores continued on october th. a large body of the royal marine light infantry, so long encamped on the heights of balaklava, were marched down to the water's edge, and embarked on board the _st. jean d'acre_, to which they were conveyed in the _wallace_ steam-tug. her majesty's steamer _triton_, lieutenant a. d. w. fletcher commanding, received orders to join the expedition, captain leopold heath, r.n., the superintendent of transports, shifted his flag to the _bucephalus_ transport. on the th october, the allied squadrons, with a large flotilla of gun-boats, bomb-vessels, and small steamers, stretching in two lines in front of kazatch and kamiesch, must have displayed to the garrisons of the north side of sebastopol a spectacle of portentous grandeur. we could see the enemy manning their batteries on the north side, and their troops under arms in front of their camps. it is likely they believed the allies were about to make a descent in their rear. the french had four line-of-battle ships, several steam frigates, and a number of gun and mortar boats. in addition to that force they had a formidably ugly armament of three floating steam batteries; but england, with all her maritime and mechanical resources, could not aid her ally by even one of these tremendous fortresses! these french floating batteries, called the _devastation_, _lave_, and _tonnant_, curiously unprepossessing in appearance, and painted of a bluish stone colour, as if to increase the gloominess of their aspect, showed eleven or twelve ports a-side, and carried twenty-two fifty-pounders (french) each. they were crowded with men, and were remarkably steady on the water, but the french bomb-vessels and gun-boats rolled heavily on the smallest provocation. the men-of-war had their ports triced up and guns run in, so as to give air to the soldiers between decks, and presented long lines of kepis and red trousers from stem to stern. the day was very fine, and the wind was scarcely strong enough to blow away the black and white wreaths of smoke and steam from the funnels of the fleet as they slowly got in motion. each steamer had a mortar-vessel or gun-boat in tow. at . the _royal albert_ set driver and fore and aft canvas, and slowly forged ahead, followed by the _hannibal_ and the rest of the squadron; the french division, led by the _montebello_, moving on in a parallel line with us, on the port or left hand. [sidenote: menace odessa.] as the fleets drew off from the land, leaving behind them the forts of sebastopol, both north and south, between which the usual daily duel of cannon and mortar was going on, the french went somewhat to the westward, and steered nw. by w., while we kept on a course n. by w. the admiral made signal to the fleet that "the rendezvous" was to be "five miles s. by e. of odessa," and it was immediately conjectured that the object of visiting that place was to induce the russians to take away their forces from nicholaieff and cherson, in the expectation of a descent upon them at odessa. the speed of the squadron was not very great, as most of the vessels had heavy boats in tow, and the signal was made from the admiral, "steer four miles an hour--course nw. by n." the _triton_ was ordered to keep close to the admiral, and not to follow the signals of smaller vessels, and at . the flagship signalled that "the admiral's course was no longer to be regarded by the fleet," but that they were to keep in their proper direction, as already indicated. at four o'clock the _triton_ was ordered not to exceed four knots an hour, the admiral's ship began to press on in front, and before evening was well in advance of the squadron, attended by a despatch gun-boat. the french, detained by their heavy batteries, made the best of their way on our port quarter. the night was fine, and the fleet moved slowly, and in extended order, for fear of collisions, but just before dawn the _stromboli_ made a slight dint in the huge bulk of the _st. jean d'acre_, and carried away one of the boats. on monday, the th of october, a hot bright sun lighted up the round mirror of sea of which the fleet formed the centre. the sea gives a poor human creature a curious sense of his own importance. wherever it is not broken in upon the land, it concedes to the vessel that has the honour of bearing him the position, or at least the sensation, of being the very centre and navel of the universe; if it has not already smitten him down on some cruel deck or wobegone cot, by its own peculiar protest against the arrogance of mankind. although many big ships were near, and a great flotilla was moving all round the edges of our great circle, her majesty's ship _innominata_ appeared on this fine monday morning to be the central point on a bright, flickering, shivering mirror, fringed by columns of smoke, or framed in by the masts of the distant fleet, fine as cobwebs on the edge of some ancient cheval glass of louis quatorze. the french fleet was away hull down on the port quarter, the grand, showy, big tricolors at the peak just topping the horizon, and the english fleet we could not see, for the reason assigned in the _critic_, which i have never heard disputed, and shall therefore give in preference to any other. about . something very like a three-decker under full sail, suffering terribly from refraction, came in view--a tall white column standing out of the sea. the haze gradually expanded as we advanced, and at last "land" was reported from the bows, and a hapless wight was despatched up into the clouds, to make any statements which might strike him as to the general configuration and geographical characteristics of the coast we were approaching, and to look out for "the british fleet at anchor," or afloat, as the case might be. i am not aware that his information was important or curious, and he only confirmed the profound observation of sir fretful plagiary, after a lengthened sojourn among the sea-gulls; but, at about nine o'clock, even landsmen could make out "land" with good telescopes, and were obliged to abandon the secret joys in which they had indulged at the disappointment of the quartermaster, when he found that "a regular fog-bank" had been mistaken by him for _terra firma_, and to admit that the "cloud," after all, was a "material guarantee" of the czar, and belonged indeed to russland. the canvas of the line-of-battle ship gradually resolved itself into a tall, snow-white pillar, some feet above the level of the sea, which marks cape fontana, south of odessa, and by degrees, as we rose the land, a white light-house, a guard-house, a white telegraph-house and station, white farmhouses, white villas embowered in green trees, pagodas, minarets, domes, and church spires appeared in view, and clustered together, till we had a day-dream of constantinople and naples together with a dash of boulogne in it, and odessa came in sight. as i am neither a voluntary tourist, a universal gazetteer, nor a photographer, i shall not attempt to describe the city, which must, indeed, be well known to englishmen, though few artists can do justice to it. these barbarous russians have a rare knack of building graceful, light, cheerful, and clean-looking cities, which even the "_stones of venice_" might not utterly despise; and, if it be distance which lends enchantment to the view, they have at least the satisfaction, denied to more civilized people, of saying there is one point of view from which their cities win the senses. [sidenote: appearance off odessa.] as we slowly drew up to our inevitable "five miles s. by e. of odessa," we passed a wonderful creation, which, compared to the slow efforts of our ancient builders, seemed almost the work of enchantment. there stood an extensive city, built on the curve of a high sea-shore, with descending terraces and broad flights of steps, to the beach, which was enclosed by broad quays and the walls of ports and casemated batteries, all shining brightly in the morning sun. broad esplanades, or boulevards, lined with trees towards the sea-front, ran along the top of the bank, with a background of stately mansions, worthy of the best "rows" near the regent's park, and we could see a numerous and gaily-dressed crowd of men and women passing along the promenade, gazing on the dark clouds of smoke which were slowly drifting in on them from the distance. behind, and in continuation of this esplanade, are splendid residences, with pillared porticoes and ornamented peristyles, magnificent public institutions--the temples erected by despotism to civilization, in hope of making peace with her--barracks, palaces, governor's house, prisons, rising in front of a confused but graceful mass of domes, columns, steeples, and spires. one huge dome is of an intense ultramarine blue, and is topped by a gilt cupola; another is of bright green, surmounted by a golden star; here is a greek temple, there a tartaresque-looking mosque; there an unmistakable "little bethel," here a byzantine church; again, an eastern minaret-like spire; farther on, an indubitable sir christopher wren steeple; and, next to it, a grand dome and cupola, which at once reminded you of st. peter's or st. paul's. this beautiful city is surrounded on the left by woods, bestudded with the houses of princes and counts engaged in the corn trade, and of merchants deeply interested in the state of the english barometer. there is one dismantled three-masted vessel inside the port, but the quay at the upper end of the harbour encloses a considerable number of small coasting vessels; and even now we can see some boats creeping down for shelter along the coast under the batteries. at the distance of about three miles from the town, we found the _valorous_ and _furious_ at anchor, and a french steam-squadron beside them of great force, with an admiral's flag flying from the _asmodée_; indeed, the french vessels, to the number of four pendants from large steamers, and of ten pendants from gun and mortar vessels, had already arrived, or had preceded us. the esplanade was, as i said, crowded with people. the city was as peaceful as a drop-scene at the theatre, but the operations of war were going on, nevertheless, and little could we tell what alarm, confusion, terror, and dread, dwelt within that beautiful capital on which we gazed so placidly. as the first ship of the english squadron cast anchor, a long line of dust was observed rising over the hilly coast to the north of odessa and by the beach, which is lined with trees and a thick hedge of bushes, and we soon made out bayonets glistening in the sun, and a strong body of russian infantry, with field-pieces and baggage, consisting of some five or six thousand men, marching in all haste towards the city. two small camps could be seen on the hill-side towards the north, and a part of this column halted and encamped outside odessa. a number of mounted officers accompanied the men, and some of them rode out through the gaps in the hedge, upon the beach, and reconnoitred the fleet, which was drawing up towards the harbour. the eternal cossacks, in groups of two or three, were standing by their horses as vedettes, beside the numerous signal and telegraph stations which line the coast at intervals, and are in connection with a semaphore in odessa, which was tossing about its arms like niobe gone mad. others were galloping over the fertile steppe, appearing and disappearing over the low lines of hills, and numerous herds of cattle all over the country afforded proof that we had exaggerated the general exhaustion of the enemy's resources, if any were needed in addition to the prosperous appearance of all the white farmhouses and hamlets, with their enormous stacks of hay and corn around the homesteads. some of the inhabitants seemed to be moving away from the place by the north road, and many waggons and carts were visible going to and fro by the road to the northward. the french fleet approached towards their anchorage from the south at the moment that the top-gallant masts and smoke-wreaths of the british fleet peered above the horizon, and at . the _royal albert_, followed at intervals by the rest of the ships, came up with signals flying for the anchoring of all at two cables' length, in order of seniority. this noble vessel let drop her bower in thirteen fathoms water, about three and a half miles from odessa, soon after four o'clock, p.m. the smaller steamers and gun-boats were then disposed of, the tows cast loose and secured, and with the beams of the bright setting sun lighting up the whole of this tremendous array of batteries, with their polished muzzles grinning from innumerable ports, the people of odessa saw the fleets of england and france anchor in their bay, and exhibit to them upwards of eighty vessels of war, ready at a moment's notice to lay their homes in the dust. the evening passed quietly; the admiral made but few signals, but it was known that nothing would be done, and that till the work of sounding off kinburn and laying down buoys for the fleet had been accomplished, the attack would not come off. the _viper_ received orders to start at dawn for kinburn, whither the _spitfire_ had already proceeded, for the purpose of making the requisite surveys. on the morning of october th, the wind came round from the ssw., and brought with it clouds, fog, and vapours, which quite shut out the sun from us. the shore could not be seen in detail, and the day was so murky that we were unable to ascertain if the inhabitants of odessa were "flitting," as the more prudent would assuredly do, with such a tremendous armada floating before them. the sky was of a dark leaden grey, and seemed surcharged with rain and storm. now and then a solitary ray broke through this veil, and lighted up a patch of houses in the stately city, or illuminated bits of the seaboard, displaying for a moment the cossack pickets and vedettes on the cliffs, and snug farmhouses, surrounded by numerous stacks of hay and corn; small detachments of troops on the march over the steppes, and _eilwagen_, or lumbering germanesque-looking diligences, traversing the coast-road, a few stray horsemen riding at full speed across country, and herds dotting the wide-spread plains. [sidenote: divided councils.] the fleet must have presented a spectacle full of grandeur and menace to the odessans. it extended for the space of five miles in front of their town,--a dense array of hulls and masts, yards and rigging, which, from shore, looked as if it were one unbroken network of ships resting on the water. the nine line-of-battle ships towered aloft in the centre, and the heavy steamers, gunboats, bomb-vessels, and transports, to the number of sixty, filled up the intervals, and extended along the flanks of the flotilla. the esplanade in front of a magnificent pile of public buildings was covered with a crowd of people, among whom were many officers and soldiers and well-dressed women; and the gunners all ready for action, inside the parapets of the long low batteries which guard this queen of the euxine, were visible to us all on board. these glimpses of the city were, however, infrequent, and were soon denied to us altogether, for down came the black sea fog, and wrapped us all in its clammy, unctuous, and chill embrace so closely that we could not see much beyond the limits of our own ship. the ever active and indefatigable little _spitfire_ joined the fleet. she had been away somewhere or other taking soundings and bearings as usual, and her appearance was a sure sign that some place on the enemy's coast was to be favoured by a visit before long. captain spratt no doubt had a useful little budget of information for sir edmund lyons when he went on board the _royal albert_. in the forenoon sir edmund lyons left the flagship in his barge, and was towed by the _danube_ to the french admiral's ship, where he remained for some time. subsequently to the admiral's return, he signalled to each ship to notify her draught of water. this was done accordingly by signal, and the people of odessa must have seen dimly a brave show of bunting in our armada, as it required many flags to express the various draughts forward and aft of each ship. in the afternoon the wind freshened and the sea rose a little, causing that peculiar ground swell which distinguishes this part of the euxine. the fog settled down on the water about three o'clock, slowly descending from the sky above, and distilled itself into drops of rain, which ran down the masts and fell from spars and rigging. before it became so very thick, our only amusement had been watching a considerable force of cavalry and horse artillery, drawn up on the cliffs, about six miles from odessa and three miles from our anchorage. these were evidently intended to act as a flying column of observation, and to march on any part of the coast which might be threatened by our troops. it consisted of four troops of some lancer regiment, and, from the time i first saw it, at nine in the morning, till it was lost in the fog, it only moved once, and then it was merely to form in squadrons and trot, wheel round, and draw up in double line again. now a few rockets would have put these gentry to flight at any time, but we did not seek to inflict useless loss or annoyance upon the enemy. a gun-boat might have run in within easy range and shelled them at her leisure with the most complete impunity; nay, more--had the admirals desired to inflict such a great blow on russia, who vaunts herself to be invulnerable, and who boasts that, antæus-like, she acquires fresh strength from every overthrow, the mortar-vessels, gun-boats, and floating batteries might have gone close enough to pour long-range shot, rockets, and bombs into the town, without the chance of being hit by the enemy, save by great luck. the city could not be missed, but it is very nice practice to hit a long low black line--a snake in the grass, wheeling and twisting about--at a distance of , yards. let the world know that odessa was "spared" once more, and, indeed, no one who looked at the city, which blends the magnificence of the east with the solid and massive grandeur of the west, could feel any desire for its destruction, unless it were absolutely necessary for the success of the war and for the attainment of peace. when the fleet was off odessa, the advice of the highest person in france on the project of bombarding the town was sought by the french admiral, and his reply implied a "radical opposition"[ ] to any such proceeding, nor was our admiral authorized by the home authorities to attack odessa unless he was certain of success.[ ] sir edmund lyons and admiral bruat acted all along in the most perfect accord, but there was this difficulty in their mutual relations, that admiral lyons was not under the orders of the british commander-in-chief of the army, while admiral bruat was directly under the control of marshal pelissier, and the latter was opposed to any operations which would require large detachments from the french army. it was proposed at one time to send in a flag of truce to odessa with some such proposition as this to the governor--"are you the governor of a commercial town or of a military station? if you say odessa is purely a commercial town, destroy your forts, abandon your efforts to fortify it, deliver up your gun-boats, if any, and we promise to respect the place. if you say odessa is a military station, you must expect to see it treated as such by the allied fleets." however, in case of the russians refusing to give up their guns, &c., and setting us at defiance, it would have been necessary for us to attack the town _coûte qui coûte_, and there were many reasons why at that particular time such a course would not have been desirable. [sidenote: divided councils.] odessa is built of stone and stucco, and is composed of large open places and squares, offering little combustible matter, and placed at such a distance behind the shore batteries as to be accessible only to mortar-vessels and horizontal fire at a very long, and therefore at a very uncertain, range. the houses are roofed with iron, and in many cases there is no woodwork in the flooring or ceiling of the different stories, but iron girders and tiles and slabs of stone are used instead of planks and rafters. many of the houses are detached, and stand like so many palazzi in their own grounds. under these circumstances a general fire would have been almost out of the question, and the damage caused by a bombardment would not have been very decisive or extensive. with all the efforts of friends and foes to destroy it, how much of sebastopol remained after it had fallen into our hands! the russians, by the agency of powder, of piles of wood, of tar, of turpentine, and of all sorts of combustibles, tried to get it into a blaze, but they failed, notwithstanding a favourable breeze; and we rained shells on it for months, and never succeeded in creating any conflagration of importance. well, sebastopol contained much more wood than odessa does, and was more accessible to our fire. the inference is, that we could not by any bombardment of the fleet have set the town in a blaze, or have inflicted damage which would have compensated the allies for the expenditure of all their shell. it is evident that at some period or another our fire would have ceased from exhaustion of means. even a line-of-battle ship's powder magazines and shot and shell rooms are not illimitable. it is equally clear that a line-of-battle steam-ship could not have come in close enough to the forts to develop her fire, without running the greatest risk of being disabled before she could have got into position. the moment would have eventually arrived when our bomb-vessels and gun-boats and heavy steam-frigates would have been compelled to cease firing, and that probably before much injury had been done to a large, distant, stone-built town like odessa; and then, if the russians could have fired even one gun as we retreated, they would have claimed, and with some colouring--which would have seemed very bright and decided in some circles in england and in many cities and towns of despotic germany and of free america--the credit of having beaten off the allied fleets! sir howard douglas declares that a -inch mortar ought to hit a large object such as a fort, at the distance of , yards; but i know that many of our bombs missed kinburn when fired from a distance of less than , and , yards. the whole of the glacis and of the ground before the fort for some hundred yards was burrowed up and pitted by the craters of bombs, which made prodigious holes in the soft sand on which they expended their force. for one shell which would fall through the roof of a house in odessa, three or four would fall in the public streets, squares, and yards, where they would be comparatively harmless. these large missiles take up great space, and the fleet _did not hold enough to lay odessa in ruins_. had the admirals been provided with all the appliances for destroying odessa, they might have caused great damage to property and loss of life by firing on the place during their stay; for, though destruction is difficult, damage and loss may easily be effected, and there can be no doubt that a vigorous fire would have occasioned the enemy a considerable amount of both. the french admiral, indeed, suggested that a certain number of gun-boats and mortar-vessels should go in every night, and throw shell into the town; but lord lyons was of opinion that such a petty measure of warfare was unworthy of us; that we ought either to destroy odessa, or refrain from a partial attack, which the russians would say, and not without pretence, had been unsuccessful the moment it was abandoned. the expedition, however, was never intended to operate against odessa, but to occupy the forts at the mouth of the dnieper. these forts were oczakoff, or ochakov, on the north, and kinburn on the south side of the entrance. the former is built upon a small promontory, called oczakoff point; the other is situated on a long narrow spit of sand, which may be considered as the north-western termination of the extraordinary spit of djarilgatch. the distance between oczakoff and kinburn, across the entrance to cherson or dnieper bay does not exceed a mile and a quarter, and the passage up the dnieper to nicholaieff winds close to kinburn, and is not more than three-quarters of a mile from the forts. a very extensive and dangerous sandbank, twenty miles long and of varying breadth, lies between odessa and the entrance to the bug and dnieper. this bank commences at the distance of ten miles outside odessa, and thence runs across to kinburn. the water on it does not exceed three fathoms, and in some places is even less, but up to the distance of three-quarters of a mile from the shore from odessa to oczakoff, there is a belt of deep water, about three miles broad, between the shore and the great sandbank. at a mile from kinburn the water begins to shoal rapidly from three fathoms in depth to a few feet. the entrance to cherson bay is guarded, as it were, by the island of beresan, and numerous beacons and lights were formerly used to guide the mariner to the channel, which is difficult and tortuous. the coast is well provided with telegraphs. nicholaieff (the name of which is spelt by us in six different ways) lies on the east bank of the bug, at the distance of thirty-five miles from the forts. cherson bay, which is formed by the confluence of the bug and dnieper, before they flow through the channel between oczakoff and kinburn, is very shallow, the navigation is extremely dangerous and intricate, and the mouths of the dnieper, which resemble on a small scale the debouchments of the danube, are almost unknown to us. the bug varies from three miles and a half to two miles in breadth as far upwards as nicholaieff, below which a sudden bend contracts its course, the passage of which is here defended by formidable works. its depth is about three fathoms, but there are many sandbanks in the channel, which winds from one side to the other of the river, and a vessel would in any position be under easy rifle range from both sides of the stream at the same time. it is more than thirty miles from kinburn to the entrance of the dnieper, and cherson is fifteen miles above the ill-defined boundary where the extensive _marais_ through which the dnieper, with many muddy mouths, eats its way to the sea, ceases to become part of the mainland, and is resolved into water. persons at home endeavouring to connect this expedition with a demonstration against perekop might well be puzzled when they saw that it was upwards of fifty miles from cherson to the isthmus, and that the crow's flight between kinburn and perekop, as he passes over the desolate taurida--bleak, waterless, and lifeless--exceeded ninety miles. kinburn fort was a regular casemated stone-built work, mounting forty guns, according to the most extreme calculation--some giving only twenty and others thirty-two guns--but north of the fort on the spit running towards oczakoff the russians had built two sand batteries. oczakoff fort was not very strong, but on the coast between it and the ferry, across the arm of the sea which runs up to kesandria, the enemy threw up three small batteries, with heavy guns, one near the ferry of three guns, and two of five and three guns respectively to the west of oczakoff, which bore upon the channel between that place and kinburn. there was a good road along the spit between kinburn and cherson, which, according to the best charts, are about forty-eight or fifty miles apart by this route. the vast importance of retaining possession of this place could not be overrated. [sidenote: fleet in a fog.] on the th of october the fog continued, and was worthy of the best efforts of the london atmosphere in november. it was not so rich in colour, so yellow, or so choky, but it was equally thick and clammy. in colour it was white, and sometimes the sun stamped a moonlike imitation of his orb upon it, and in favourable moments one could see a faint indication of his existence above. now and then you caught a dark outline of a vessel looming through the mist; you strained your eyes to make out your neighbour, but you might as well have tried to pick out the details of turner's "blubber boilers" or of his phantom ships, and as you looked the vision disappeared. the water flowed with a heavy oily roll, and the only noise to be heard was the plash of the lazy waves against the paddle-wheels, the bumping of the rudder, and the creak of an odd timber, as he rubbed against his fellows. "but hark! there is a gun!" a dull burst of sound, followed by reverberations like the muttering of distant thunder, which are caused by the echoes of the report against the sides of the ships, denotes that the admiral wishes to indicate his position, to some straggler, who has not yet joined the fleet. solemnly, through the silence which intervenes between these signals, comes the full rich boom of the church bells from odessa. possibly papa nicholas or papa daniel is even now persuading a nervous and fashionable congregation that the fog which hides their enemy from view is the result of his own intercession with saint or martyr, and these bells, which chime so sweetly, may be using their metal tongues to call down disaster on our heads, and to invoke the blessing of heaven on the soldiers of the czar. as the day advanced the fog darkened, deepened, thickened. the rolling of drums--the beat of paddle-wheels as a solitary steamer changed her berth with caution--the striking of the bells of the ships, and the reports of guns at long intervals, were the only evidence that a great fleet was lying all around us. all communication between the ships ceased, for no one could tell where his next neighbour was; in fact, a philosopher would have found this a charming place for study and reflection. but those who were accustomed to more active existence found the time very heavy on their hands, and the excitement of seeing the men "knock about the guns," of hearing them and the boys say their gunnery catechism, "no. ,"--"takes out tompions, bear out the port, worms 'em, sponges, rams 'ome, runs out, and trains,"--of watching the barometer, of seeing the fowls fed, and of inspecting the various dogs, pigs, and birds which constitute the pets of the crew, and the more substantial enjoyments of the officers, palled after a time, and one--even off odessa, and cheek by jowl with the enemy--was fairly obliged to yawn by general ennui. what was happening around us no one could see or say, and there was a horrible gloomy misanthropical curiosity seizing upon every one to ascertain the longest time a black sea fog was ever known to last, which elicited most startling declarations from morose old tars, that "if it's a riglar out-and-out 'un, with a light breeze from the sutherd and vesterd, it may last for a matter of a fortnight--ay, that it may." sundry dismal experiences were not wanting to enforce the probability of such a lively event taking place again. "and then the bad weather will set in; and, with sogers aboord, i'd like to know what we can do?" at . p.m. the fog began to clear away, and one after another the ships of the fleet appeared in sight, as if coming out in a dissolving view. the admiral availed himself of the pleasing change in the weather to make signal for a lieutenant from each ship to repair on board the _royal albert_. the change was as great as if one had come out of a dark room into the leading thoroughfare of a large and busy city. the cutters and gigs glided about in all directions, visits were paid from ship to ship, and some boats swept in to have a nearer look at the shore. when the lieutenants went on board they received instructions for the disposition of the respective ships to which they belonged for the following day. the arrangements were simple. the gun-boats were to sweep the beach, if there was any resistance. the following was to be the order of formation on shore:-- +-------+----------------------------- | | french. | | + flag. | | | | + commissariat. | | + sappers and miners. | | + land transport corps. | | + reserve ammunition. | | + artillery. | | + cavalry. | | | beach | + rd regiment } second | | + royal marines } brigade. | | + royal marines } | | | | + staff. | | | | + th regiment } | | + th regiment } first | | + st regiment } brigade. | | + th regiment } | | | | + flag. +-------+----------------------------- it will be seen from this plan that the french formed the left and the english the right of the force. at o'clock the fog lifted, and the lights of odessa twinkled in the distance. in order to strengthen the belief of the inhabitants that we were going to attack the place to-morrow, the admirals made signal "to send down topgallant-masts," the usual preliminary for action in big ships. all was quiet during the night. on the th of october the sun rose unclouded. odessa looked more beautiful than ever. clouds of dust were seen rising from its streets, as if large bodies of troops were moving about all over the town. the eternal cossacks were watching on the cliffs near us, walking up and down to keep themselves warm, or playing with their shaggy little ponies. wherever there was a good view of the fleet to be had a crowd of people collected, and the esplanades and terraces, and even the housetops and parapets of the batteries, were occupied by spectators. the cavalry on the hill to the north of the town were visible at early dawn, each man dismounted, at the side of his horse. the flagship, at . a.m., signalled to the fleet to "prepare three days' provisions for troops to land with." at a.m. the french fleet got up steam, and several of our steamers followed the example. at . signal was made to gun-boats "to get up steam for slow speed," and officers from each ship, in pursuance of instructions received, repaired on board the admiral's, where they were made acquainted with the exact duty required of them in connection with the plan of attack, and were subsequently sent in to the admiral, who examined each of them himself as to their respective tasks. admiral bruat went on board the _royal albert_, and remained with sir e. lyons for some time. sir h. stewart was also present. the following was the plan of attack on kinburn:-- [sidenote: departure for kinburn.] "no. . the line-of-battle ships to engage the fort kinburn and two sand batteries on the point, will anchor in about feet, in a line extending northward from fort, bearing e., and about , yards distant from it. "no. . the four french line-of-battle ships to form the southern division, so that the _montebello_ will be the fourth ship from the south, and the _royal albert_, as the fifth ship, will be the southern ship of the english division. "no. . the line-of-battle ships are to weigh together and form a line abreast, north and south, at a cable apart. the southern line-of-battle ship is then to steer so as to bring the south end of kinburn fort bearing e. by compass; and to shield her from any danger that may not have been discovered, or from approaching too close to the bank to the s., she is to be preceded by two steamers, the ---- and the ----, each at a cable apart, and in advance, on her starboard bow, and showing their soundings. when the south line-of-battle ship brings the south end of kinburn to bear e., she is to steer for it. the rest of the ships will then steer the same course, keeping one cable apart, and all anchor together in a line nearly north and south, just without the flag buoys that will be placed during the previous night. "no. . the nine ships will then be in position for the first five or six to engage fort kinburn at from , to , yards, and perhaps less, and the other three to take the sand batteries in flank and rear at about , yards. "no. . the three french floating batteries are to be placed on a line nnw. and sse. of each other, to the sw. of fort kinburn, at about yards distant from it. "no. . the mortar vessels are to anchor in a line e. and w., at , yards distant, with the fort bearing ne. from the outer vessel of the line. "no. . the english mortar boats to be towed by the _odin_, on a line e. of the french. "no. . if the outer mortar vessel brings oczakoff telegraph on with the east end of fort kinburn, bearing n. e. (magnetic), and steers for it till the oczakoff telegraph and odzah point subtend an angle of degrees, she will be about the requisite distance, of , yards from fort kinburn; the rest can take their stations at a cable distance east of her. "no. . the _sidon_, _curaçoa_, _tribune_, _dauntless_, and _terrible_ to anchor close off the north sand battery on kinburn spit, or, when ordered, to join the squadron of gun-boats, &c., that have previously entered within the straits, should any large ships of the enemy from nicholaieff appear for the relief of kinburn. "no. . the disposable paddle steamers can find good positions between the line-of-battle ships for directing their fire with steady aim at the embrasures of the casemates or at any position where the enemy maintains his fire, or off the n. and nw. extremity of the kinburn spit, to enfilade the batteries and their approaches. "no. . the gun-boats will attend to protect the army during the landing, and those not ordered to remain to cover their flank to take up position between the other ships as opportunity offers, and by a careful attention to the plan of attack are not to fire in the direction of the other ships. "no. . the admiral holds the captains responsible for there being no firing, unless the men can distinctly see the objects they are directed to fire upon. "_triton_ and _beagle_ to attend _st. jean d'acre_. each ship's boats to land her own troops. reserve ammunition for the marines to be landed with them. _spiteful_ and _furious_, assisted by _triton_, to land cavalry horses, staff horses, regimental staff horses from no. , and sappers, with tools, &c. "the captain of each ship is to be responsible for the disembarkation of his own troops and baggage. "proceedings of the advanced squadron for buoying the dangers. "the ships denoted in the margin, piloted by the _spitfire_, are to start at p.m. and anchor in the following position, as shown in the chart no. , , from odessa to knieper bay:-- a. b. c. d. e. f. g. h. no. . a. _valorous._ b. _dauntless._ no. . c. _gladiator._ d. _furious._ e. _spiteful._ f. french mortar-boat. g. french mortar-boat. h. french mortar-boat. [sidenote: bombardment of kinburn.] "the vessels anchored at c, d, and e, on the north side of the passage, are after sunset to show a red light to the west, and those at f, g, and h, are to show green lights in the same direction, as guides for the fleet on passing through during the night. the vessel at a, _valorous_, to show lights vertical over the side, screened from nw. round by e. to s., and seen to the w. only. the four gun-boats _clinker_, _cracker_, _grinder_, and _fancy_, accompanied by four french gun-boats of shallow draft of water, will proceed, after the former vessels have anchored, to the rendezvous, at p.m., near the _valorous_, anchored at a. the four english gun-boats to be provided with buoys (white). the vessel at no. a to provide two boats, that are to be despatched and anchored upon the sw. extremity of oczakoff bank, in four fathoms, to be a guide, by showing lights for the french gun-boats to commence buoying the edge of that bank with black buoys. the two boats on their return to the _valorous_ to place a white buoy on the end of kinburn spit, in five fathoms water. "the _spitfire_, assisted by the boats of the _dauntless_, at b, will mark the edge of the bank--ere landing--west of kinburn, with small white flags, placed in five fathoms. "n.b. all white buoys are to lie on the south side of the channel, and black buoys mark the north edge of it, and are consequently to be left on the port hand in passing to eastward." the evening of the th was unsettled--wind from sw. and s. on the th the weather was again unfavourable; on the th it blew briskly, sending in a heavy sea; but the wind abated towards night, and orders were given to prepare to weigh at dawn next morning. on the morning of oct. , the fleet weighed and stood along shore towards the liman of the dnieper. the weather was beautiful, and we could admire at our leisure the numerous clean-looking, snug villages, the immense flocks and herds, and well-filled farmyards, which met the eye along the steppe. the fleet anchored three miles west of kinburn fort at three o'clock. on the th the troops landed about four miles below the fort, without the smallest opposition, or even the appearance of an enemy, in the order already indicated. the th regiment was the first to land, and the french were, for a wonder, behind us. the weather continuing fine, the troops set to work, intrenching themselves on the sandy spit; only a few cossacks were visible all that day, but in the afternoon, as a few french troopers were patrolling in front of our lines on the plain towards cherson, they came upon a picket, which consisted of eight men, hid in some brushwood. they charged the cossacks at once with great gallantry, killed two, and took two prisoners out of the party. chapter iv. the fleets open fire--effects of the fire from floating batteries, mortar-vessels, and gun-boats--a flag of truce--the governor of kinburn surrenders--terms of the capitulation--kinburn fort described--a bad lot of muscovite infantry--oczakoff destroyed--a cruise up cherson bay--expedition up the bug--scenery on the banks--fight with a battery--sharp practice--order for the return--divine service celebrated at the confluence of the bug and the dnieper--operations by the french--great men on shore--the two admirals go on a cruise--sir e. lyons and sir h. stewart part company. the sea was too rough on the th of october to open fire, but every preparation was made for the day following. it was a dull, grey dawn, with the wind off shore, and the sea was quite calm. early in the morning, the russians in the fort of kinburn, perceiving that the french had crept up to a ruined village during the night, and that they were busily engaged in making their first parallel, under cover of the houses, at about or yards from the place, opened a brisk fire upon them from the guns _en barbette_ in the eastern curtain. they were answered by two french field-pieces from the screen of a broken wall. the fleet at anchor was perfectly still, but the mortar-vessels, floating batteries, and gun-boats were getting up steam, and by nine o'clock they might be seen leaving the rest of the armada, and making towards the south side of the fort. the three french floating batteries took up a position close to the casemates, and the mortar-vessels and gun-boats were drawn up further away, and more to the eastward, so as to attack the angle of the fort, and fight the guns _en barbette_ on the curtains. the floating batteries opened with a magnificent crash, at . a.m., one in particular distinguished itself by the regularity, precision, and weight of its fire throughout the day. at . a.m. the bomb ketches opened fire. the enemy replied with alacrity, but his batteries must have been put to a severe test. at . a.m. a fire broke out in the long barrack inside the fort, and speedily spread from end to end, driving the artillerymen from their guns. small explosions of ammunition took place from time to time inside the works. [sidenote: surrender of kinburn.] at . a.m. the russian jack was shot away, and was not replaced. the fire in the fort raged more furiously, fed by constant bombs and rockets, and at . a fresh conflagration burst out. soon afterwards admiral stewart, in the _valorous_, and the french admiral (second in command), in the _asmodée_, followed by a fleet of eleven steamers, came round the spit battery into cherson bay, delivering broadsides and engaging the fort and outworks as they passed. they were preceded by the _hannibal_, which completely ripped up the sand batteries on the spit. the _valorous_, _asmodée_, steam frigates, and nine line-of-battle ships took up their position in magnificent style opposite the seaward face of the fort, which was already seriously damaged by the tremendous fire of the floating batteries, gun-boats, and mortar-vessels, and kinburn was soon entirely in flames. the russian fire was quite silenced, save from one gun. the second in command, whose name was something like saranovitzky--a pole by birth--inflamed by courage and its dutch ally, declared he would not surrender, and prepared to blow up the magazine before the enemy should enter. in this resolve he was supported by the officer of engineers and by the officer of artillery. amid the crash of falling buildings, the explosions of shells, the thunder of the fleet, and the smoke and flame of their crumbling houses and batteries, the russians held a council of war, at which it was put to the vote whether they should surrender or not, and the majority carried the question in the affirmative, on the side of humanity and reason. in vain the fanatic pole, the artilleryman, and the engineer, tried to persuade the governor and the majority to persist in the madness of continuing a purely passive resistance, for active opposition was out of their power. "we can hold out for a week," said they. "what then?" asked the governor. "you have not been able to fire a shot for three-quarters of an hour. are you likely to be in a better state two hours hence, and, above all, where are the men to live in the meantime?" such arguments, enforced by tremendous broadsides and by the knocks of cannon-balls against every wall of the fort, prevailed. the second in command, the artillery officer, and the engineer, finding themselves deserted by officers and men, abandoned their suicidal determinations, and agreed to surrender. the white flag was hoisted, much to the satisfaction of every humane sailor in the allied fleet, who could feel no pleasure in destroying a brave enemy, and much more to the gratification of those who were allowed to desist from a demonstration of hopeless courage. two boats, each bearing a flag of truce, pushed off, one from the english and another from the french admiral, at the same time. sir houston stewart proceeded to land near the battery, where he found the french general already advancing to parley with the governor. major-general kokonovitch appeared with a sword and pistol in one hand and a pistol in the other. he threw down his sword at the officer's feet, and discharged his pistols into the ground, or at least pulled the triggers with the muzzles pointed downwards, in token of surrender. he was moved to tears, and as he left the fort he turned round and uttered some passionate exclamation in russian, of which the interpreter could only make out, "oh, kinburn! kinburn! glory of suwaroff and my shame, i abandon you," or something to that effect. kokonovitch wept as he threw down the pen with which he signed the articles of surrender, but he had no reason to be ashamed of his defence. so kinburn was ours, as far as the flames and smoke would allow us to occupy it. by the terms of the capitulation the garrison were permitted to retire with everything except their arms, ammunition, and cannon; the officers were allowed to wear their swords, the men to carry knapsacks, clothing, regimental bugles, church property, relics, and pictures. when the major-general was asked to use his influence, or to give a pledge that no harm should befall such of the allies as might enter the place, he said he would do so, "but at the same time i must tell you," added he, "that the flames are at this moment very near the grand magazine." this was a friendly caution, which produced, of course, a corresponding effect, and steps were at once taken to prevent any such lamentable losses as were caused after the evacuation of sebastopol by the rashness of the troops. the defenders of the northern forts on the spit were not aware for some time of the reduction of the principal battery, or at least paid no attention to it, and hammered away from one gun till a shot from the _terrible_ utterly destroyed the casemate. the prisoners sold their kits and all they could dispose of--droschkies, horses, spare clothing, and food, by a rude kind of public auction on the spit. as the garrison marched out they were ordered to pile their arms, but many of them, with rage and mortification depicted on their features, threw them on the ground at the feet of the conquerors. on the whole, they seemed "the worst lot" of muscovite infantry i ever saw, and consisted of either old men or lads--the former fine soldier-like fellows enough, but the latter stupid, loutish, and diminutive. they availed themselves of the license in the fort to fill all their canteens, and in some instances their stomachs also, with "vodka," and many of them were drunk when they marched out, but intoxication had the effect of making them extremely amiable and facetious. the officers bore their misfortune with dignity, but felt it deeply, as was evident from their grave demeanour and stern countenances. few of them wore decorations, and only one was dressed in full uniform. a chef de bataillon or major, wearing a long light-blue cloak with red collar, who limped along with difficulty, had a good deal of influence over those around him, and kept the drunken soldiers in awe by his look, and a sergeant in a long green frock-coat with yellow facings and stripes, aided him in repressing the mirthful disposition of some of the bacchanalians on the line of march. kinburn fort had fifty-one guns mounted _en barbette_, inside and in the outworks, six flanking guns in casemates, and twelve mortars, and of these twenty-nine were dismounted, smashed, or disabled in gun or carriage. in the centre spit battery there were ten guns, of which two were disabled; and in the spit or north battery there were ten guns, of which three were smashed. we arrived just in time to prevent the latter work from assuming most troublesome dimensions, for the casemates were ready for nine guns more, and the platforms indicated they would be of large calibre. the guns in position were small eighteen and twenty-four pounders, of great weight and thickness, and some of ancient date; inside we found a small park of guns ready for mounting. some were of the date of , and the piles of shot and shell and stores of ammunition of all kinds were out of all proportion to the size of the place. at six o'clock, on the th, the russians, with their usual incendiary propensities, set fire to the fort below oczakoff, and after blowing up the magazines, which went into the air with two heavy explosions, retired. on the th, in compliance with the wishes of the french admiral, sir edmund lyons decided on despatching a squadron, under the orders of sir houston stewart, to co-operate with the french squadron under rear-admiral pellion in protecting the left flank of the allied troops who set out on a reconnaissance towards cherson. [sidenote: up the bug.] before the squadrons weighed a french boat left the rear-admiral's ship with a flag of truce for oczakoff. she carried a reply to the request sent by the russian general under a flag of truce the previous day, and informed him that the "major-general who had commanded in kinburn _se porte à merveille_, that forty-five wounded russians were in the french ambulances, and that the french general regretted he could not state the names of the officers who were prisoners," but he did not say whether that was owing to any difficulties in orthography or not. as the boat neared the beach, an officer, followed by two soldiers, came from the town to meet them. one of the men bore a tremendous flag of truce--there could be no hango mistake about it; he had a large tablecloth suspended from a pole, under the weight of which he staggered as he walked. the boat touched the beach, and, with much formal bowing and martial civilities, the missive was handed to the russian, who retired with his tablecloth waving behind him up the hill, and was lost to sight amid the houses. two old priests scrambled down to the ruins of the fort, and, with their flowing robes and long beards, seemed like ancient prophets invoking maledictions--as no doubt they were--upon the fleet. early on the th, the french rear-admiral stood up cherson bay with the lighter vessels of his squadron before the english admiral was aware of his intention. soon after dawn our smaller gun-boats started in the same direction, and rear-admiral sir houston stewart, having sent off his despatches to sir edmund lyons, hoisted the signal for the large gun-boats and steam-sloops under his command to weigh anchor and follow. at nine o'clock a.m. he led the way, with his flag flying in the _stromboli_, towards the confluence of the bug and dnieper. he was followed by the _gladiator_, _spiteful_, and _triton_ steamers, by the _wrangler_, _snake_, and _viper_. a whole shoal of gun-boats, _boxer_, _cracker_, _clinker_, _fancy_, _grinder_, &c.,--were some miles in advance, in company with the french squadron, threading their way among the intricate shoals which guard the entrance to the dnieper. at last, entering the mouth of the bug, we observed some of the french squadron coming down the river, and the two admirals met and held a conference on board the _stromboli_. the french admiral assured sir houston stewart that he had been up the river to the spit, which extends from the western bank for some distance into the stream, at about seven miles from ajiojhio point on its western entrance, and that he had not seen any sign of an enemy. the admiral resolved to have a look for himself, and proceeded slowly up the river in the _stromboli_, which was followed by the small gun-boats. on both sides the banks were high, and the brown steppe, studded with herds and farmhouses, presented no object of interest. about three miles up, on the left-hand bank, we came upon a small village. five miles up, on the right-hand bank, there was another village, with two pretty churches. there were guard stations and look-out posts on both banks. the river was three or four miles broad up to the spit, where it narrowed considerably. the cliff was upwards of feet high, and could scarcely be commanded by the guns of a ship. however, it was advisable to ascertain what defences existed on the lower part of the river till it contracted into such dimensions as would bring a ship within range from both banks. the _cracker_ and _grinder_ went on ahead, the _stromboli_ followed with the admiral's flag flying, examining bearings and farm-yards at our leisure, and the _spitfire_ came next, engaged in her labour of sounding, and probing, and angling every bit of the earth's face and of the waters under the earth within reach of lead, glass, and compass. they were now near the spit, and we could see the stream beyond it. above the spit there was a high bank rising to the steppe behind, and at the distance of some hundred yards from the edge there was a tumulus, behind which i fancied i saw artillery. the _cracker_ had run on ahead, and the _grinder_ was just drawing on parallel with this high bank--we were all peering at it, and one officer was saying to the other, "well! i wonder the russians have not got a battery on that cliff"--when from a seam in its side, parallel with the water, a puff of white smoke spirted out, and the rush of a shot followed, which terminated in a splash in the water close to the side of the _grinder_. "tell _grinder_ he may give him a shot in reply," cried admiral stewart. the little _grinder_, with more valour than discretion, at once put down his helm and ran in, drawing across the _stromboli_, at which the enemy opened another gun at the moment. this shot fell short. and now light field-pieces, on the top of the cliffs, opened; none of the shot from the russians had yet fallen closer than twenty yards to us. the drum beat to quarters on board the _stromboli_, and the men rushed on deck in a state of high delight to clear for action; berthings were removed, and guns got ready, but _grinder_ being intent on doing his _devoir_ got in our way, so that his recall was hoisted. the _stromboli_ slowly craned over towards the bank. the principal work was a trench in the cliff, half-way up, and when you came to squint along a gun, and saw only four little black eyes staring at you over a parapet of earth which did not seem three inches high, you began to understand the difficulty of striking such objects. "try , yards!" the gun was trained. at the words, "well! fire!" the iron globe, whose curve you could trace through the air, hurtled with the peculiar hiss of its race, over the parapet, knocking up a black pillar of earth from the crest of the hill, and bounding far away to the rear. "too high!" the russians replied at once. the shot flew over captain spratt's head, who was at the foretop, and plunged into the water or yards beyond us. the muscov had been playing the game of firing short, to entice us well under his battery. _stromboli_ kept edging nearer, the captains of the guns were all intently gazing along their sights. "try , yards." away flew the iron messenger again, but he only told the russians to bob their heads and keep out of his way, and passed behind them. aimed "too high" again. the _spitfire_, _cracker_, and _grinder_ were now coming into action. the enemy's field-pieces took to shell, and studded the air above us with smoke-clouds, the angry hum of their splinters was heard on all sides. whiz!--right across our deck comes a shot, and plashes into the water over our counter. our long gun at the bow sends a shot in reply, at , yards, which goes right into their battery this time. whiz! whiz! two shots, one after the other, one dashing up the water close to her sides, the other cutting the jib foot-rope of the _stromboli_. [sidenote: nicholaieff.] sir houston stewart resolved to return. that there was no intention of going up to nicholaieff with a steam-sloop, a surveying sloop, and some small gun-boats i need not say, and had the enemy been driven from the spit ten times a day he could have returned at any time, and have constructed just such another flying defence as that with which we were engaged. indeed, the admiral would not have replied to the enemy's fire at all, but that jack is dissatisfied if not permitted to return a shot whenever one is sent at him. with a parting salute, the _stromboli_ set her jib, slewed round, and steamed slowly down the river. the enemy continued to fire after us, but the _spitfire_, _grinder_, and _cracker_ covered the movement, and a shell from the latter burst in the earthwork, and appeared to do some mischief. as we returned towards the liman, the _spiteful_, _triton_, and _arrow_, which had remained off the mouth of the bug--"an unpleasant position," said sir houston stewart, "which will be appreciated by london lodgers"--were seen steaming up to us, as they apprehended that they could help us out of a scrape; but the emulative gunners had not a chance of doing anything. the little flotilla remained at its anchorage off the bug, for the night, without any apprehensions that the enemy from nicholaieff could do any harm. mr. brooker, one of the most active and intelligent officers of the _spitfire_--and that is indeed saying much, where all were so able and so willing--volunteered to go in the _cracker_ after dusk, to ascertain the force and position of the enemy's batteries; but it was judged inexpedient to hazard the loss of a gun-boat, which would be made a subject of great rejoicing and triumph to the enemy, while the success of the experiment would not be of much importance, inasmuch as we were not in a position to attack and occupy nicholaieff. had marshal pelissier listened to the demand of sir edmund lyons for , or , men, there would, indeed, have been some utility in a reconnaissance, for the operations of our steam fleet might have mystified the enemy so completely as to enable us to land a force, and by a _coup de main_ to destroy, though not to occupy, nicholaieff. the town is , yards from the spit, on the confluence of the ingul and bug, and it would be necessary to force batteries, booms, sunken vessels, gun-boats, in very shoal and difficult water, and get round into the ingul itself, before the fleet could fire a shot on the place. every vessel would have to run the gauntlet of high banks lined with riflemen which their guns could not reach. on sunday, st, in the forenoon, church pendants were hoisted, and divine service according to the church of england was duly celebrated, for the first time since christianity blessed the earth, in the confluence of the bug and dnieper, within sight of the spires of many greek orthodox churches. afterwards, the french had a little _missa solennis_ of their own. at . p.m., three large and one small gun-boat of their squadron got up steam and weighed. they stood straight up the river, and great was our excitement lest they should silence the battery which we had left with its teeth drawn, if not its tongue tied. before they started, sir houston stewart, having signalled for an officer of the _spitfire_ to come on board, went off in the _cracker_, attended by the _grinder_, to examine the coast to the sse., and to ascertain the cause of the numerous fires, indicated by pillars of smoke, in that direction. the allied troops were supposed to be advancing for forty miles along the spit, to destroy the forage and provision, so as to make the country waste. however harsh this measure may appear, it was a necessary operation. when sydney smith drew his terrible picture of john bull's afflictions in a probable invasion--corn-ricks blazing on every side--sows of the best breed running about with their throats cut, he must have had a prophetic inkling of the operations of the troops on their way to cherson. our allies sidled up to the spit, where we were engaged. perhaps they had some notion that they might succeed in destroying the battery which their good friends, the english, had not reduced to silence. the day was very dull, and there was immense refraction, so that the end of the cliff appeared to be lifted out of the water, and the vessels to have wavering hulls and quivering masts. at last they arrived off the spit, and the enemy opened fire upon them at once. the small gun-boat stood bravely on till it was within , yards of the shore--the others anchored at , , and they then engaged the breastwork very sharply. the french averred that they dismounted one gun at least, and drew down a great body of the enemy before they retired. this they did after half an hour's dalliance, and then they anchored off the mouth of the bug, close to us once more. [sidenote: was it the czar?] meantime we had seen a sight which led us to believe that his majesty the czar, or one of his imperial family, was actually honouring our little squadron by a minute inspection. perhaps he was thinking how much better they would look if they were all assembled to run for a marine cesarewitch. it might, indeed, have been after all only a governor of cherson whom we saw, but there certainly did appear, on the east bank of the bug, about mid-day, some great man on a big, black horse, followed by ten or twelve mounted officers, and some few orderlies. this august personage rode over to the cossack post, dismounted, and honoured us, through his glass, by a good look, which he interrupted from time to time by a few words to those around him. presently a cossack came galloping across the steppe at full speed, to the group of cavaliers. he dismounted, and walking to the surveyor of our navy, knelt down, and appeared to kiss his feet, as he handed him a despatch. the great man read the missive, mounted his horse, and, followed by his suite, rode off to a neighbouring post. the next time we saw him he was visiting the cossack post higher up the river, after which he proceeded along the road towards nicholaieff. some time after the french boats had returned, the english gun-boats came in sight. they all came back, having disturbed immense quantities of wildfowl, which have frequented the banks of the borysthenes since remotest history. the vessels anchored in their old place, and admiral stewart left the _cracker_, and went on board the _stromboli_. at night strict watch was kept. fire-ships are not much to be feared by steamers, but still the wind was strong down from nicholaieff, and the russians might attempt something. look-out men, sentinels, and loaded carronades were placed fore and aft, and with these precautions we went to sleep--in the waters, for the time being, of her majesty the queen and of his imperial majesty louis napoleon. on october the wind chopped round and blew up the bug. at ten o'clock a.m., admiral stewart went on board the _spitfire_, and proceeded southwards, towards kinburn spit, to look out for the expeditionary column. fires were still blazing along the horizon. as he bore away, a french gun-boat came with a despatch from admiral pellion, which politely placed at the disposal of sir houston stewart several _chaloupes cannonières_ lying off the mouth of the dnieper, in case he felt inclined to destroy certain large boats on the beach below stanislaff. as the _spitfire_ was forging ahead, the little _danube_, with an admiral's flag, red at the mizen, was seen on the horizon. it could be no other than sir edmund lyons. the echo of the guns, and the distant scent of gunpowder, had enticed him into our waters to see what was going on. sir houston stewart, captain spratt, commander cowper coles, went on board the _danube_, which, accompanied by the _spitfire_, immediately steamed towards kinburn spit. they got within half a mile of the _marais_, which binds the coast with a belt of long deep rushes, but not a soldier was visible, with the exception of one solitary cossack. there were some traces of the troops at skadovska, about thirteen miles from kinburn, for black columns of smoke rose up from the spit in that direction. but the reconnaissance failed in detecting the line of march of the troops or in opening communications with them. at . p.m. the admirals returned from their cruise, and stood in towards stanislaff. as they approached, it was clear the enemy thought two british admirals did not fly their flags together for nothing. a strong body of infantry was drawn up on the heights among the houses, lest the admirals and post-captains should land and take stanislaff by assault, or the _danube_ and _spitfire_ attempt to bombard the place. a very considerable force of field-artillery was stationed in the rear. the russians had erected a solid, compact-looking sand battery with five embrasures, on the sand-bank below the town, where no trace of such a work existed twenty-four hours previously. the admirals having taken a good look at the place, now parted company; sir e. lyons returned in the _danube_ to the fleet, and sir h. stewart steamed away in the _spitfire_ to the anchorage of the bug, and afterwards went on board the _stromboli_. the reconnaissance burned all the stores and houses which could render service to the enemy for seven or eight miles towards cherson. ere we left we discovered two large rafts of wood concealed in the rushes off the mouth of the dnieper. sir edmund lyons presented one of the rafts to the french--an act of courtesy and consideration which our allies estimated at its full value. their dimensions were as follows:--the first feet long by feet wide, and six feet deep. the second, nearly the same length as the first, feet broad; it grounded in eight feet water. at a rough calculation the two rafts contain , cubic feet of the finest timber, and the present made by the english fleet to the french, through our commander-in-chief, cannot be estimated at a lower value than £ , ; at least if the timber was in england, it would be well worth the money, for the majority of the balks, spars, and centre pieces composing it are of the very finest white oak. the dockyards of nicholaieff are supplied with timber and wood from the government of ligtewski, which contains several large forests of fine trees. these are situated chiefly in the neighbourhood of minsk, mohilev, and vitebsk. the wood is floated down the dnieper to cherson in rafts firmly clamped and bound together, with strong and substantial huts upon them for the navigators. each raft is generally composed of , large trunks of oak-trees, which are covered with knees and smaller pieces roughly shaped after drawings and instructions sent to the cutters. this is done, that the timber may be made available at once for use in the dockyards. after being floated as far as the current will take them down the dnieper, they are met by the government steamers outside or inside the bar off the mouths of that river, and thus towed up to nicholaieff. some small steamers must be kept at nicholaieff, at all events at this moment, but they have never stirred, nor have we seen any traces of them in the bug. cherson was the great ship-building and maritime yard for the black sea fleet in former days, but the difficulty of building large ships there, or rather of getting them away when once they were built, on account of the shallowness of the water on the bar of the dnieper, forced the russian government to remove their establishments to nicholaieff, on the confluence of the bug and of the ingul. the bar of the bug has a depth of eighteen or nineteen feet; the bar of the dnieper has only eight feet water upon it in ordinary seasons. the ships of the line are built at nicholaieff, but it is not improbable that small vessels and frigates of light draught may still be constructed at cherson. the arsenal at nicholaieff is very extensive, but its principal supplies of timber came from the dnieper, and the loss of these two rafts will be no inconsiderable injury. fine oak timber such as they contain is very dear and scarce in russia. the timber in the casemated spit battery, and the expense of erecting it, came to no less a sum than , silver roubles, or £ , english currency. [sidenote: defence of kinburn.] on sunday, the th of october, captain paris joined the allied squadron blockading the bug and dnieper, with orders to take the command as soon as admiral stewart went; and we left that officer with the _beagle_, _viper_, _snake_, and another english gun-boat, and four french gun-boats, to keep up that dismal duty. admiral stewart sailed from the bug on tuesday morning, the th of october, and joined the fleet at kinburn. a portion of the fleet which had gun-boats to tow started for kamiesch the same evening. the allied fleet, under sir e. lyons and admiral bruat, sir h. stewart and admiral pellion, sailed the following day for the same anchorage. ere the expeditionary force returned to kamiesch and kazatch the most effectual measures which could be adopted were used to put the garrison of kinburn in safety for the winter. all the curtains of the fort of kinburn were rebuilt, the ruins cleared away, the damaged guns removed, and ships' fine guns put in their place; the fosse cleared out and deepened, the palisades repaired, the south-eastern gateway filled up, and its approaches covered by a strong ravelin; the crest of the parapets repaired solidly and well with fascines and earthwork, the russian guns rendered efficient, the casemates cleared out and filled with stores or adapted as barracks, and the interior buildings in course of reconstruction and renovation. the result proved the defensive preparations were so formidable, that the enemy never attempted to operate against the french troops stationed there, although the sea (a very unusual occurrence) was frozen hard across to oczakov. kinburn having been secured against the attack of any forces the enemy could bring against it, and covered completely by the guns of the formidable flotilla we left to protect it, the greater portion of the fleet sailed for balaklava and kamiesch before november. the blockade of the bug and the dnieper was of course raised by the first frost, and the gun-boats engaged in that service had dropped down and joined the flotilla at kinburn. before the expedition started, nearly all the smaller gun-boats were despatched to reinforce captain sherard osborne's flotilla in the sea of azoff, where that active and energetic officer was harrying the russians as a hawk perturbs a field of larks.[ ] the cossacks showed themselves from time to time in the neighbourhood of kinburn, but the state of the spit prevented them from establishing a camp or even a grand guard near the fort. three military and three naval french officers, who went out shooting on the spit a few days after the sailing of the ships for kamiesch, were picked up and made prisoners by these lynx-eyed gentry. they surrounded our gallant allies under cover of a fog, and then lured them one after another into their snares, by shouting in french, and discharging their carbines. they literally used snares, for they had ropes all ready for each man as they caught him, and to bind him if he resisted or tried to give the alarm to his comrades. chapter v. promotions--peaceful toils--improvements--memorandum of october th--expedition to eupatoria countermanded--intelligence by telegraph--state of affairs in sebastopol--want of proper system and organization--french review--extract from divisional orders. during the progress of the kinburn expedition, general orders announced the promotion of colonel windham to the rank of major-general "for distinguished services in the field," and his appointment to the command of the fourth division, with which he served as assistant-quartermaster-general until he was named to the command of that brigade of the second division, at the head of which he fought on the th september. lord william paulet assumed the command of the nd brigade of the fourth division, and occupied general bentinck's old quarters on cathcart's hill. [sidenote: preparing for winter.] the camp before sebastopol, into which russian projectiles not unfrequently obtruded, was nevertheless tranquil and laborious, as some new settlement in australian bush or america's backwoods. the russians continued to pound away at intervals at the ruins of the town they had been forced to abandon. they did little harm to us, and might as well have saved the ammunition, which they often condescended to expend even on a single soldier, wandering among the broken walls or across the plain. our old friend bilboquet, long silent, now opened his mouth, and sent shot at the works by traktir bridge, or at anything he saw moving in the valley below his muzzles. the english army, convinced that it was to winter in camp, set seriously to work to guard against the effects of weather from which it suffered so grievously, and to make itself as comfortable as possible. hutting and road-making were the occupations of the hour, and rapid progress was made in both. strong wooden huts sprang up on every side, and here and there a solid stone dwelling was in course of construction. it was a striking contrast between the sufferings of the former winter--exposure, want of clothing, and famine--with the prospect of plenty and comfort, and it was pleasant to observe the cheerfulness and the activity that prevailed. drainage was not neglected, and, indeed, it was a question whether it was not almost overdone. some of the ditches, dug along each side of the roads, and around the stores, hospital huts, and other establishments, were of formidable width and depth, and of a dark night proved dangerous to wanderers through the camp, especially if they had been taking "just one more glass" in the quarters of some hospitable friend. but the rain frequently descended in torrents, the water swept down the slopes in sheets and floods, and deep drainage was essential. mr. doyne, the superintendent of the army works corps, proceeded vigorously with his labours. mr. doyne divided the road into miles, and at every mile was placed a station-hut and a lamp, with a corporal and two men to act as police. we heard nothing but the clatter of the spade and the thud of the pick, varied by frequent explosions of small mines, with which builders and road-makers got rid of the rock that impeded their work. besides working at the roads, parties were busy at various small jobs, clearing wells, &c. but the want of proper system and organization, which was so often deplorably shown during this war, was again visible. with different arrangements, half the men, perhaps a quarter of them, could have done the work of the whole , employed on the roads, and probably have done it better, because they would have been less crowded. thus, for instance, a regiment of the third division, at the farthest extremity of the camp, marched down to work at balaklava, returning at night, daily performing a distance of nearly fifteen miles. of course, this was just so much power taken out of the men, and the army was full of boys whose strength was not equal to a good day's work. it could not, in fact, be got out of them, even though they had not to walk long distances. there were frequent alarms, but many were of opinion--some of them persons whose opinion had weight--that our muscovite friends had not the remotest idea of attacking us, and that lord panmure's information to a contrary effect, derived from berlin, proceeded, in fact, from st. petersburg, or, at any rate, from friends of our enemies, who desired to prevent us taking advantage of what little fine weather remained to undertake fresh expeditions against them. the telegraph brought information that the russians were about to abandon the north side also. there was no visible sign of such evacuation, nor was there any probable reason to assign for it, excepting that the russians would find it impossible to supply their army during the winter. on this point opinions differed widely. some thought that the russians would experience no difficulty in bringing enough supplies by the road from perekop; others doubted that the road was sufficient, and were also of opinion that the russian means of transport would run short. it was pretty certain that no large depôt of provisions existed, and also that none had ever existed, not even at the commencement of the siege, near at hand. in the previous winter the russians--who doubtless never contemplated a siege of such duration, and probably never dreamt of an attack by land at all, or made sure of speedily beating off any naval force brought against their great fortress--had a constant stream of supplies pouring into the town. it was urged that they had taken advantage of the summer to lay in stores; but the drought of that season was as unfavourable to such an operation as the wet and cold and heavy roads of winter; and, unless by camels, which could do but little, transport must have been very difficult. the loss of beasts of draught and burden must have been prodigious, and the wear and tear of the ill-made carts proportionately large. the chief motive for retaining the position was, that negotiations would be conducted more favourably that winter, whilst the enemy had a footing in the crimea, than if they had moved out, leaving us to garrison sebastopol and simpheropol. on the th of october, the army was ordered to be under arms at half-past a.m.; working parties, for railways, roads, &c., to come on duty at instead of a.m.: this latter relaxation was granted in order to give the men time to breakfast and refresh themselves after the turn-out. late on wednesday night (october th) the reserve ammunition column was warned to be ready early in the morning, as there was every probability of an attack. on thursday forenoon (october th) the french were formed up in the valley of the tchernaya, awaiting a foe who came not. about noon, fresh movements of troops were made; and it was reported that large masses of russians were visible, but the enemy did not show. on saturday afternoon, october , our allies treated the russians to a fine view of the imperial guard in the cavalry plain of balaklava. the day was fine, and ponies were put into requisition, and no end of scarlet jackets, interspersed with the blue frocks of the cavalry, might be seen converging from all points towards the parade-ground. the grenadiers, chasseurs, zouaves, engineers, and artillery of the guard, were drawn up across the plain. general m'mahon, followed by a numerous staff, to which sir colin campbell and a large number of english officers temporarily attached themselves, minutely inspected them. the grenadiers looked martial and imposing in their long blue coats and lofty bearskins; the chasseurs smart and active in their excellent and service-like costume; the zouaves, as usual, picturesque and effective. the chasseurs and zouaves excited the admiration of our officers. they were then probably the most perfect soldiers in the world--i do not mean in respect to fighting merely, but as regards military qualities and dress, equipment, powers of marching and endurance--everything, in short, that constitutes perfection in a soldier. [sidenote: changes and farewells.] the russians meantime continued firing at the town, week after week, with little reply. they fired principally at sebastopol proper, but now and then they dropped a shot or shell into the karabelnaia, and sometimes took the flagstaff on the malakoff for their mark. occasionally, some artillery officer, as if suddenly exasperated, jumped up in a fury, and ordered half a dozen mortars to be fired at once. it is difficult to understand why the allies spared the place, unless it were that we expected them to walk away, and leave us their forts in good condition, which was expecting rather too much. outside the town the french set hard at work levelling siege works, filling up trenches, &c., though why they took that trouble it was hard to say, unless they contemplated the probability that they, in their turn, might be besieged by the russians. in the space comprised between the lines where our batteries once stood and the harbour, the ground was literally paved with shot sunk in the earth: there were ditches and trenches in which they lay thick as apples in a basket. they might be seen of every size, from the great thirteen-inch shell, and -pounder, down to the little fellows of pleasant vinous appellation, very nasty to meet passing through the air. fragments of shell macadamized the roads--jagged, rusty bits of iron, infinitely various in size and form. one thought, how many a stout fellow received his quietus from those rugged splinters. then one came upon ill-treated cannon, some trunnionless, others with muzzles knocked off, some burst in pieces, and others bearing indentations as from the hammer of cyclops. you walked up into the redan or into the malakoff, marvelled at the dimensions of those famous works, and felt surprised rather at their having ever become ours than at their having so long resisted the utmost efforts of english and french. they were indeed a medley of earthworks, stone, heaps of shot, broken shell, and damaged guns, everything rugged and battered--a work of giants reduced to chaos. and then the gloomy, fetid bomb-proofs, in which for so long a time the stubborn russians lurked, worse than most dungeons. early in november it became known that sir william j. codrington would succeed sir james simpson in command of the army, with the local rank of general, and that sir richard airey, quartermaster-general, would be replaced either by colonel wetherall or colonel herbert. general codrington announced his elevation in the following order:-- "head-quarters, sebastopol, _november _. "i have assumed the command of the army in obedience to her majesty's orders. it is with a feeling of pride and with a feeling of confidence in the support which i know will be heartily given, to any officer honoured with such a commission. "the armies of france and sardinia are united with us on this ground. we know their gallantry well, for we have seen it; we know their friendship, for we have profited by it; we have shared difficulties, dangers and successes--the groundwork of mutual esteem; and all will feel it our pleasure, as well as our duty, to carry on that kindly intercourse which is due to the intimate alliance of the nations themselves. our army will always preserve its high character in the field. the sobriety, the good conduct, and the discipline which it is our duty to maintain, are the best sureties of future success, and i trust to the efforts and assistance of all ranks in thus keeping the army to be an instrument of honour, of power, and of credit to england. "w. j. codrington, "general commander of the forces." general simpson's farewell appeared the night before, and was as follows:-- "general sir james simpson announces to the army that the queen has been graciously pleased to permit him to resign the command of this army, and to appoint general sir william codrington, k.c.b., to be his successor. "on resigning his command, the general desires to express to the troops the high sense he entertains of the admirable conduct of the officers and men of this army during the time he has had the honour to serve with them. in taking leave of them, he tenders his best thanks to all ranks, and offers his earnest wishes for their success and honour in all the future operations of this noble army. "general sir william codrington will be pleased to assume the command of the army to-morrow, the th instant. "by order, "h. w. barnard, chief of the staff." [sidenote: the new commander-in-chief.] the public dissatisfaction caused by the second failure of the english army to take the redan fell heavily on the aged veteran, who had in the earlier part of his career done service to the state, and gained a high character for gallantry, skill, and ability. no doubt, with an english army only to lead, sir james simpson would have acted with vigour, but he was paralyzed by the action of the french. he was ignorant of their language, slow and cautious, and it is no wonder that, where lord raglan failed, general simpson did not meet with success. the courage and activity general codrington displayed at alma, at inkerman, and in command of the light division during the trying winter of - , seemed to have justified his rapid promotion, and although he was in actual charge of the operations of an army on the day of the th of september, he was regarded as an administrative rather than a judicial officer, and was rewarded as signally because he failed as he could have been had he succeeded. a french officer said to me, "if general codrington had taken the redan, what more could you have done for him than make him general, and give him the command of the army? but he did not take it, and he is made general and commander-in-chief!" there was no opportunity of testing the ability of general codrington as a commander during the subsequent part of the campaign, but he managed, by his despatches, to lower himself in the estimation of the public, although it is certain that a part of his success and elevation was due to his skill in private correspondence. sir w. codrington came out from england on the rd of february, , with the rank of colonel in the coldstream guards. he entered the army as an ensign and lieutenant on the nd of february, ; became lieutenant in april, ; captain in july, ; lieutenant-colonel and colonel on the th of november, ; and major-general on the th june, . he commanded a brigade of the light division throughout the early portion of the campaign, and succeeded to the command of that division on the retirement of sir george brown. possessed of a strong constitution, a spare vigorous frame, quiet in manner, energetic in action, vigilant, and painstaking, sir william codrington acquired a high reputation throughout the war, and was often spoken of as the coming man--_the general_, who was at last to arise out of the _débris_ of old-fogeyism, red-tapery, staffery and horse-guardism, of the british army; but the redan dammed the current which had set so long and so quietly in his favour, because it was supposed that he did not exhibit all the qualities attributed to him in an eminent degree by the army, and his failure produced all the backwater, eddies, and whirlpools usually formed on such occasions. sir w. codrington was possibly struggling with the internal conviction that the attack had become hopeless, and consequently felt some hesitation in sacrificing more soldiers when he perceived the failure of our assaults and the confusion of the regiments swarming on the face of the salient; in that supreme hour he did not display that extreme coolness, resource, self-possession and energy which every one had from his antecedents at alma and inkerman, and in the trenches, attributed to him. the revulsion of popular feeling either in a nation or an army, is often unjust in proportion to its violence, and there were very many who thought "it would be only fair to give codrington another chance." sir w. codrington received the local rank of lieutenant-general in turkey on the th july, . sir colin campbell had been gazetted to the same rank on the rd january in the same year. the only officers with the army senior to sir w. codrington were lord rokeby and lieutenant-general barnard, chief of the staff. the others had all gone home, or were preparing to leave the field in possession of the new general. although too active and able a soldier to be neglected in a war like this, it is possible that sir w. codrington would not have had a chance of obtaining his distinguished position but for a piece of good fortune. on the th of june, , certain promotions took place, more particularly among colonels of the guards, and among them was that of colonel codrington to be a major-general. of course the effect of such a promotion would have been to remove him from his regiment and take him home; but the major-general was most anxious for active service. by the time the _gazette_ was promulgated the expedition to the crimea was spoken of, and major-general codrington tried hard to evade the necessity of returning home, which to many was by no means disagreeable, if we may judge from the alacrity with which they availed themselves of it. he was lucky enough to succeed in his object, and thus got an opportunity of entering on the career which in a very short period led him to such great honours and to so proud a position. the acting quartermaster-general had just died, and brigadier-general airey, who commanded a brigade of the light division, was selected as his successor. the brigade thus left vacant was given to major-general codrington, whose anxiety for active service led him to leave no stone unturned in the search for it; and i well remember that, being then with the light division, i heard some expressions of dissatisfaction because the "lucky guardsman" obtained the command. only a very short time, however, elapsed before officers and men discovered that he was one of the best soldiers in the army, and his reputation extended beyond the limits of his brigade to every regiment in the field. the light division hailed his accession to the command on the second and final retirement of sir george brown with the liveliest satisfaction, for he had won the confidence of the men by coolness and unexaggerated intrepidity in the field, and had gained the affection of the officers by his amenity and kind manners. although no one regretted that general simpson had ceased to be commander-in-chief of this army, all felt sorrow for the circumstances under which the veteran resigned his command. his simplicity of manners and singleness of mind never failed to conciliate the regard, if not the respect and admiration, of those around him; but he failed in determination and firmness in a matter of vital importance to our army when opposed to a sterner will, greater vehemence, and force of character. such an error in judgment, or rather such weakness, was especially culpable in the commander-in-chief of an army situated as our own has been. the general was a victim to writing, like his predecessor. he was more of a clerk than a general. now, is it the horse-guards which enforces all this scrivenery? if the army cannot be commanded without all these forms and returns, let us have, in future, a writing general, and a fighting general. it certainly was not despatch-writing which consumed our generals' time hitherto, for those documents were always brief enough. [sidenote: divided councils.] again we were suffering from the evils of divided councils, allied armies, and telegraphic instructions. sir edmund lyons was not a man to let the grass grow under his feet; but one foot he could not move, for he was tied by the leg, just as he was when he in vain opposed the famous flank march on balaklava, and advocated a rush at the town ere the enemy could have recovered from the effects of their dismay. we were necessitated to act in concert with our allies, and the rule seemed to be that neither france nor england should act independently of the other, but that they might act as they pleased respecting the sardinians or the turks. there is always a want of decision and energy in allied councils, and even marlborough and eugene had to regret that no two men can take precisely the same view of all the parts and accidents of any single matter. general simpson ever evinced the utmost readiness to accede to marshal pelissier's suggestions, or to any proposition made by either generals or admirals of character and experience, so that no obstacle to any energetic steps arose from him, but if he wished to march against the enemy he could not have done so without the co-operation of marshal pelissier. it was doubtful if the french much out-numbered us in strength, but they certainly did generally preponderate, and at this time take the lead in military operations, either by land or sea. a siege is at all times rather demoralizing and destructive to discipline. the siege of sebastopol was so to a considerable degree, because to the ordinary influences of such operations the effects of a winter's campaign were superadded. most of the old soldiers were used up; and the bulk of our regiments contained an undue proportion of recruits. to see a body of our soldiers coming back from the roads in the evening--to mark their careless air--listen to their loud voices in the ranks as they tramped through the dust--one would scarcely think them capable of being turned out as a clean, smart regiment at ten minutes' notice. they were often clad on such occasions in coarse and rather dirty fatigue-suits of grey linen, and, but for their forage-caps with the regimental numbers, they would not look, to any lounger in hyde park or the phoenix, like those british soldiers, all kempt and compact as they usually are presented to the public gaze at home, whom they are accustomed to see. the officers, too, often mere boys or young lads not long from england, rode or marched along with the men, without adding much to their martial aspect. the latter either sang a quick march-song in chorus, or whistled some air to keep the step. such high spirits were pleasant to see, but occasionally the march became too noisy and riotous to suit the notions of a strict disciplinarian; old soldiers did not commit these irregularities, but young recruits who had seen little of military life, and who scarcely knew what drill was, were apt to exceed the bounds of decorum and military rule when they found themselves free from parades, and field-days, and inspections, and put to work on the roads like labourers. the extraordinary fineness of the weather all this time afforded a daily reproach to the inactivity of our armies. within one day of the first anniversary of that terrible th of november, which will never be forgotten by those who spent it on the plateau of sebastopol, the air was quite calm. from the time the expedition returned from kinburn not one drop of rain fell, and each day was cloudless, sunny, and almost too warm. the mornings and nights, however, began to warn us that winter was impending. it is certainly to be regretted that the admirals could not have undertaken their expedition against kaffa, for the only ostensible obstacle to the enterprise was the weather, and our experience and traditions of the year before certainly suggested extreme caution ere we ventured upon sending a flotilla, filled with soldiers, on such an awful coast, even for the very short passage to theodosia. book ix. the winter--position of the french--the turkish contingent--preparations for the next campaign--the armistice--the peace and the evacuation. chapter i. anniversaries--an explosion--casualties--terrible scene--cause of the catastrophe--accident in the redan--samuel goodram--love of fighting--contrast between the years and --the flank march--mistakes in the first instance--russian troops--the sports of sebastopol. the month of november would seem to have been ruled by some genius unfavourable to our arms. if it gave to us the glorious remembrance of a profitless and bloody victory, it also brought with it a day of disaster and gloom--the beginning of a long series of calamities. the first anniversary of that day passed away amid mutual congratulations and reminiscences, rendered all the more joyous by the contrast between the present and the past. we had beheld a spectacle of unusual splendour and grandeur, one indeed which no native of these isles has ever yet witnessed, so far as i am aware. on the th of november, , the purity of the air--the health of the troops--the abundance of stores--the excellence of the roads--the quantity of hutting--the hospital accommodation--the fineness of the day--the beauty of the sky--the dryness of the soil--the prospects of the army--the bright-hued future: all these were contrasted by a myriad tongues in endless difference of phrase, coloured by many a recollection of personal suffering. there was no sorrow, no calamity could reach us now, and of all things which fate could grant us, most of all were we desirous of meeting that alone with which fate seemed to threaten us--an assault by the enemy. but, suddenly, up from the very centre of our camp, so that every ear should hear and every eye should see, rushed with such a crash as may forewarn the world of its doom, and with such a burst of flame and smoke as may never yet have been seen by man, except in the throes of some primeval eruption, a ghastly pillar of sulphureous vapour. it spread as it rose, bearing aloft for hundreds of yards men, horses, fragments of limbs, rocks, shells, and cannon-shot, and then extended its folds in writhing involutions, as though it were tortured by the fire within, raining them down over the astounded soldiery below! for a moment the boldest lost heart, and "the bravest held his breath." there was no safety in flight--the wings of the wind could not have left that dreadful shower of iron behind; and as one of the most collected and cool soldiers in the army said to me, "i had only presence of mind to throw myself on the ground and ask the forgiveness of god, and i received his mercy!" in fact, the effect resembled some great convulsion of nature. many thought it was an earthquake; others fancied it was the outburst of a volcano; others, that the russians had got hold of lord dundonald's invention, and that they had just given it a first trial. indeed, one officer said to another, as soon as he recovered breath and could speak, "i say, that's a nice sort of thing, is it not? the sooner we go after that the better." he was persuaded the russians had thrown some new and unheard-of instrument of destruction into the camp. i was riding from head-quarters, reading my letters, and had just reached the hill, or elevated part of the plateau, at the time, and happened to be looking in the very direction of the park when the explosion took place. the phenomena were so startling as to take away one's breath. neither pen nor pencil could describe them. the earth shook. the strongest houses rocked to and fro. men felt as if the very ground upon which they stood was convulsed by an earthquake. the impression of these few moments can never be eradicated. one's confidence in the stability of the very earth was staggered. _suppositos incedimus ignes._ what part of the camp was safe after such a catastrophe? the rush of fire, smoke, and iron, in one great pillar, attained a height i dare not estimate, and then seemed to shoot out like a tree, which over-shadowed half the camp on the right, and rained down missiles upon it. the colour of the pillar was dark grey, flushed with red, but it was pitted all over with white puffs of smoke, which marked the explosions of the shells. it retained the shape of a fir-tree for nearly a minute, and then the sides began to swell out and the overhanging canopy to expand and twist about in prodigious wreaths of smoke, which flew out to the right and left, and let drop, as it were from solution in its embrace, a precipitate of shells, carcasses, and iron projectiles. the noise was terrible; and when the shells began to explode, the din was like the opening crash of one of the great cannonades or bombardments of the siege. i clapped spurs to my horse and rode off as hard as i could towards the spot as soon as my ears had recovered the shock. as i rode along i could see thousands hurrying away from the place, and thousands hastening to it. the smoke became black; the fire had caught the huts and tents. general windham overtook me, riding from head-quarters as hard as he could go. he was ignorant of the cause and locality of the explosion, and was under the impression that it was one of the french redoubts. sir richard airey followed close after him, and general codrington rode towards the fire a few minutes afterwards. [sidenote: the great explosion.] on arriving close to the place, i saw that the ground had been torn up in all directions. the fragments of shell were still smoking, and shells were bursting around in most unpleasant proximity. captain piggott, in a short time, came up with the ambulances at a gallop, and urged the horses through the flames and amid the exploding shell in order to render assistance to the sufferers; and in this arduous duty he was manfully and courageously assisted by surgeons alexander, muir, mouat, and others. as we were all looking on at the raging fire, an alarm spread that the mill used as a powder magazine had caught fire. a regular panic ensued--horses and men tore like a storm through the camp of the second division. i did not escape the contagion, but, at my servant's solicitation, mounted my horse, and rode off like the rest. i soon came up to colonel percy herbert, who was actively engaged in trying to get the men of his division under arms, but he told me he could find neither drummers, buglers, officers, nor sergeants. the panic was soon over. the mill did not catch, though the roof and doors and windows were blown in. the officers, in the most devoted way, stripped, and placed wet blankets over the powder inside just as the flames were raging behind the mill and at the side of it within yards. hundreds of rockets rushed hissing and bursting through the air, sheets of flame shot up from exploding powder, carcasses glared out fiercely through black clouds of smoke, and shells burst, tossing high in air burning beams of wood and showers of sparks, and boxes of small-arm ammunition exploded with a rattling report like musketry, and flew about in little balls of fire. my reading in military matters is not sufficient to enable me to say, with any confidence, that there never was so terrible an explosion; but having witnessed and heard the explosions at pavlovskaia and kertch, at oczakoff, of the french magazines on the th of october, , and of the russian forts on the th of september, , i must say that, in volume of sound, in appalling effect, they were far exceeded in vehemence and grandeur by this tremendously abrupt and startling catastrophe. the quantity of russian powder which went up was about , barrels, and there were about barrels of french powder exploded in the three magazines. each barrel contained about lb. weight of gunpowder, so that the total quantity which furnished the elements of this prodigious combustion cannot have been less than , lb. but in addition to that enormous mass of powder there were vast mounds of shell, carcasses, rockets, and small-arm ammunition, contributing to the intensity and violence of the fiery blast. appalling as was the shock to those who were near, the effect was little diminished by distance. the roar and concussion were so great in balaklava that the ships in harbour, and outside at anchor, trembled and quivered, and the houses shook to their foundations. the ships at kamiesch and kazatch reeled and rolled from side to side. mules and horses, seven and eight miles away, broke loose, and galloped across the country, wild with fright. the noise pealed through the passes at baidar like the loudest thunder. the sense of hearing was quite deadened in many persons, and their nervous systems have not yet recovered the shock, so that any sudden noise startles them. the french had officers killed and wounded; of their men, mostly of the artillery, were killed, and wounded, of whom many will never recover. the destruction in money value of articles appertaining to the siege-train was very great. but when we came to men--to those gallant fellows who had survived the battles and the dangers of the campaign--our loss was irreparable. what value could be placed on those noble artillerymen of the siege-train who, with little praise or encouragement, stood by their guns in so many bombardments, and who had acquired skill, practice, and hardihood in the greatest siege the world ever saw? the casualties in the light division were as follows:-- th fusiliers, killed, wounded; th regiment, wounded; rd fusiliers, killed, wounded; rd regiment, killed, wounded; th regiment, killed, wounded; th regiment, killed, wounded; th regiment, wounded; th regiment, wounded; rifle brigade, killed, wounded; total killed, wounded. [sidenote: supposed cause of the explosion.] the right siege train suffered as severely--seven poor fellows were buried the first night, and the bodies of three more artillerymen were so torn and scattered that their remains could not be collected for interment. to this loss of ten must be added that of seven artillerymen "missing." the total of the casualties in the train amounted to fifty-two. mr. yellon, deputy assistant-commissary of the field train, a most active, zealous officer, whose name was mentioned along with that of mr. hayter in colonel st. george's despatch, was blown to pieces. lieutenant roberts had his left arm broken, and was severely burnt; lieutenant dawson lost his leg above the ankle from a dead shell, which struck him as he was in the act of carrying off a live shell from the park to a place of safety. the legs, arms, and trunks of men were blown into the camps of the rifle brigade and of the th regiment, on the extreme right of the light division. i saw lying amid a heap of ruins, of old iron stores, rubbish, shot, splinters of shell and beams of wood, a man's arm scorched and burnt black, on which the tattered pieces of clothing retained the traces of a sergeant's gold stripes. the dead were terrible to look upon; but the living in their agony were still more frightful. i solemnly declare, that from the lips of none of these mutilated masses which i saw stretched out in long rows in every hospital did i hear either groan or sigh. no sound escaped them, as those who could see rolled their sad orbs and gazed upon the stranger, except in one instance, when an involuntary expression of pain was uttered by a poor french soldier in the hospital of the rd, where he had been trepanned, and was all but beyond the reach of his misery. although the russians have been justly praised for their endurance of pain, i must say i never beheld them submit to such tortures as our men experienced. as i looked upon the shattered frames before me, in which such noble spirits were enshrined, i could not but remember the howls of a russian corporal, at kinburn, who had been wounded in the heel. the surgeons displayed the greatest courage and kindness, and every man was at his post in the midst of fire and shell. drs. muir, watt, mouat, and longmore particularly distinguished themselves. marshal pelissier named a commission of inquiry to report upon the cause of the disastrous accident. our men declared, of course, that it was the work of an incendiary. general codrington seemed to give credence to the report, inasmuch as he ordered the army to turn out an hour before daybreak, to be prepared for the russians if they really had calculated on crippling us. the manner in which this great disaster was caused is said to have been this:--some french artillerymen were engaged in shifting powder from case to case in the park, and as the operation is rather dangerous, every precaution was taken to prevent accidents. the powder was poured from one case into the other through copper funnels, and no fire was allowed near the place where the men were so employed. as one of the soldiers was pouring the powder out of a case he perceived a fragment of shell gliding out of it into the funnel, and, not wishing to let it get into the other case, he jerked the funnel to one side; the piece of shell fell on the stones, which were covered with loose powder, and is supposed to have struck fire in its fall, for the explosion took place at once. miraculous as it may appear, this artilleryman, who was, as it were, in the focus of the explosion, escaped alive, being only slightly burnt and scorched. his comrade, who held the other case was blown to atoms. another strange incident was the death of the french commandant of artillery for the day. he was near the park at the time of the explosion, and as soon as he had seen everything in order, he went off to have a look at the french batteries in and about sebastopol, on which the russians had just opened a heavy fire. as he rode along, a cannon-shot struck off his head. the escapes were astounding.--clothes were torn off men's backs; the chairs or beds on which they sat, the tables at which they were eating, the earth on which they stood, were broken and torn by shot, shell, rocket-irons, shrapnell, grape, canister, and musket-balls, which literally rained down upon them. the distance to which fragments flew exceeds belief. it is difficult to explain it by mere names of localities. one piece of shell flew over cathcart's hill; another killed a horse in new kadikoi. some struck men and horses in the guards' camp. in the land transport corps of the light division fourteen horses were killed and seventeen were wounded. one flew over my hut; another struck the ground close to it; another went into the camp of the land transport corps behind it. mrs. seacole, who keeps a restaurant near the col, avers that a piece of stone struck her door, which is three and a half or four miles from the park. pieces struck and damaged the huts in new kadikoi. there had been some warnings of the dangers of carelessness already. the day before the explosion samuel goodram, no. company, coldstreams, a soldier of the same regiment, and a sergeant, were on duty in the redan; the two men went into one of the casemates to remove powder and rubbish, while the sergeant remained outside. scarcely had the men entered before an explosion took place. goodram was blown into the air, and then buried amid fragments of gabions and falling earth, and both men were buried in the guards' cemetery next day. i am the more particular in giving names, that i may relate an anecdote of goodram at the attack on the redan. the night before the attack, the coldstreams were on duty, and were relieved some hours before the assault. on arriving at camp, samuel goodram was missing; and it was feared that he had gone away to indulge in potations, or had been hit as he came from the trenches. but this gallant soldier had remained behind from a pure love of fighting, and from a desire "to have a go in at the roosians." knowing that the assault would take place in a few hours, goodram, as the regiment mustered and marched off, had secreted himself in the trenches, and employed his leisure time before his comrades left in filling the breast of his coat and every available place about his person with cartridges from their boxes, fearing that his private supply of fifty rounds would fail him before he had got his fill of fighting. when the storming party was advancing from the fifth parallel, goodram appeared, rifle in hand, and joined it as a volunteer, and his regiment claim him as being the first private soldier in the redan on that memorable day. he was twice driven out of the redan, and was over and over again engaged individually with the russians, and in these encounters he received two wounds--one in the side and one in the arm--but still kept up a fire when driven back by the last rush of the enemy's infantry, and forced over the parapet with the rest of our men into the ditch. instead, however, of retiring with the others, as opportunity offered, and keeping in the ditch or getting under cover in the parallels, goodram made an impromptu rifle-pit on the broken glacis outside the ditch, and there he maintained his fire on the enemy till his ammunition became exhausted, and his wounds so painful that he could no longer use his rifle. then he shouldered his arms and marched stiffly up through the trenches and across the open space till he reported himself to his regiment. he was, i believe, tried for being absent without leave and for stealing his comrades' cartridges, but minos himself could not have condemned a soldier like this to any severe punishment for a crime which minos's jurymen would have called heroic. [sidenote: retrospects] chapter ii. the situation--retrospects. either the year was remarkable in the annals of the crimea for its severity, or we enjoyed a season of exceptional mildness in . storms lowered over us and passed away; dark skies threatened us and melted into floods of golden sunbeams. the wind seemed alone to be busied in tossing the french steamers at sea and keeping the mail late, in which it succeeded very effectually, so that our letters were behind time with the greatest regularity. the country was open in every direction to carriage, man, or beast; the trenches were dry; in fact, the weather presented contrasts of endless variety to that which prevailed the year before, and afforded ground for infinite speculation and comment. there was no reason, however, to suppose that the english army would have had much reason to congratulate itself on the fact that the clemency of the season had averted the evils which want of roads, excessive fatigue, and a false position would have entailed upon them, inasmuch as it is certain the bad weather paralyzed the enemy, cut off their reserves, impeded their transport of food and of reinforcements, and prevented their making another attempt--not at inkerman, of which, they had to their cost learnt the strength, but from the traktir bridge, or at some point of the tchernaya then in their possession, from which they could have debouched into the plain of balaklava, and made a grand attack on the rear of our lines. although those lines had been greatly strengthened, and the profile altered and improved, they were far from being perfect or unassailable. in november, when rumours to the effect that the russians were gathering a force towards baidar, with the intention of assaulting us, prevailed, the country between tchongar, perekop, and simpheropol was, however, in such a state that it was with the utmost difficulty the garrison of sebastopol could be fed, and very strong reinforcements were kept for weeks waiting at odessa, nicholaieff, and cherson, till the spring of . but for these impediments, the russians would have had a prodigious army about sebastopol early in december, , and if they had been indisposed to try another inkerman, they could certainly have pressed us much harder in the trenches, and wearied our men by strong and repeated sorties. at times it was difficult for even a single battalion to march from the army of the belbeck or mackenzie's farm into the city, or to effect the usual reliefs. if to these considerations be added the notorious sentiments and opinions of persons high in authority, who advocated _the abandonment of the siege_,[ ] and the retreat of the army from the crimea after the battle of inkerman, it will be seen that our prospects would not have been much better had weather like that we enjoyed in the latter part of prevailed last winter. the inconvenience to which the famous flank march subjected the army became more apparent every day after the failure of the first bombardment. the flank march was opposed, or was viewed with disfavour, by officers of great authority, and by one whose sagacity and skill are seldom deceived in military operations, although he is not a soldier, and does not command on land.[ ] the descent on the crimea itself was a bold stroke; it was the first step towards the capture of sebastopol. the battle of the alma left the approach to the city open to us whenever we liked. prince menschikoff's flank march to bakshiserai and simpheropol, although somewhat ridiculed at the time, is now considered a judicious and daring movement, but it certainly uncovered the north of sebastopol, the tchernaya, and balaklava; and as it was determined by our generals to abandon the dashing character of the expedition, and to assume for our operations a strategical character, to which they had no previous pretensions, we were obliged to look out for harbours, and the inlets of balaklava, kamiesch, and kasatch met the eye and fixed our destiny. then came the period during which, without let or hindrance, or attempt at interference or prevention, the russians were allowed to recover from their alarm and flock back to sebastopol, under the direction of a man of extraordinary genius. then they began the rudiments of the vast works which baffled our efforts for eleven long months of trial, suffering, and bloodshed, heroically endured and overcome. [sidenote: winter arrangements.] it is now perceived that if the advice of sir george cathcart had been followed, the city might have been ours by a vigorous assault on the day after we arrived on the plateau. the ships alone could never have defended the place, and the greater portion of the feeble garrison, such as it was, consisted of the _equipages_, or crews, of those very ships. the enemy, when they retreated to the north side, would have been as impotent as they were when they had crossed over in the autumn of , and sebastopol, in all its beauty, and with all its vast stores and riches, would have been in our possession. that is the hypothesis as to the result of vigorous action from the south side. but had we approached the city from the north side, there can be no doubt that the forts would speedily have fallen; the fire of the shipping could have affected our operations but very slightly, and the only inconvenience would have been the want of a harbour at which to land siege-trains and stores, in case any mishap prevented the army carrying the place. the anchorage is good all along the coast up to eupatoria, and, except on the great gale of the th of november, no damage would have occurred to our merchantmen or men of war riding off the coast. the mouths of the katcha, or even of the belbek, when the fire of the battery which just reached the latter was reduced, could have been made available for landing such stores and _matériel_ as we required. with the northern forts, the whole city of sebastopol and the remainder of the fleet would have been ours;[ ] our army could have reposed on its laurels for the winter in an impregnable position; a year would have been saved in the war; and the crimea would have been cleared of the russians early in the spring of . such is the hypothesis respecting operations from the north side; such were the discussions which arose in the army when it had rested from its labours and saw a vanquished enemy gathering strength in a position which appeared impregnable or unassailable. the russian general must have been a man of extraordinary confidence if he thought that on the return of spring he could have extricated his army from the grasp of an enemy which clutched the whole of his coast, was established at two points in his rear, and had four distinct bases of operation, with sufficient troops to use them all, and to concentrate a prodigious force on any point he pleased. the russian infantry, in spite of its stubborn endurance and passive courage, is not equal to either french, sardinian, english, or turkish troops. every day showed us that it had no chance even against the latter when they were led and officered by englishmen or brave and skilful european soldiers. their cavalry, in equal numbers, will be ridden down like grass whenever they stand against english or french squadrons; and notwithstanding the excellence of their artillery, compared with other arms of their service, it cannot compete with ours as regards rapidity of motion or precision of fire. in reference to future operations i wrote at this time some remarks, which even now are not uninteresting. i said:--"prince gortschakoff will be a grand strategist opposed to very weak generals if he succeeds in saving his army and marching them scatheless from the crimea. the health of our troops is excellent; the draughts which arrive are rather younger than is desirable, but they will obtain experience and instruction during the winter. they are admirably clothed, and fed as no army was ever fed before--fresh meat, bread, and vegetables are issued to all. henceforth the men are to receive fresh meat _only_ three times a week, and bread _only_ three times a week, instead of every day. on the other days they will have pork or salt beef, and excellent biscuit. in respect of winter clothing, hutting, and feeding, our men are immeasurably better off than our allies, and it is not unusual to see the latter eating in the english camp of the excess of our soldiers' cooking kettles. little friendships have sprung up in this way. 'franceese' comes over with his spoon, a smile, an onion, and a bit of salt, or a savoury condiment, to some sapper or grenadier, day after day, about dinner-time, indulges in pantomimic conversation, interlarded with many 'bonos,' and regales on good soup and broth, to the great delight of his entertainer. thus both are satisfied--a true _entente cordiale_ is established through the medium of the stomach, and no one is a loser. the reinforcements to our ally contain, like our own, many very young men, and i was particularly struck with the youthful appearance of the men of a regiment which arrived at kamiesch on monday." it is somewhat mortifying to add that all speculations on the probable conduct of the war were rendered abortive by the peace, which left russia in military possession of the north side of sebastopol. [sidenote: decorations of the huts.] whilst the army was waiting patiently till spring should give it freedom of action, it set itself to work to provide for the winter. the spoils of sebastopol materially contributed to our comfort and efficiency in this respect. kitchen-ranges, boilers, iron-bars, stourbridge bricks--i had some in a chimney built into the side of my hut, which were marked "harpers, stourbridge"--ovens, brass, iron, and copper stoves, pots and pans, flues, kettles, and hundreds of similar articles, were seized and utilized with wonderful tact. fine well-built cook-houses were constructed from the cut stone of sebastopol, which was found in large blocks around unfinished houses or was taken from the ruined edifices and walls about the place. mechanical ingenuity was largely developed in the adaption of materials. one officer converted the funnel of a small steamer into a chimney; another used one of the pipes of an engine as a hot-air apparatus to heat his hut; a third arranged a portion of machinery so that he could communicate from his salon, sleeping-room, and dining-room (three single gentlemen rolled into one), with his cook in the adjacent kitchen, and dinner was handed through direct from the fire to the table, after the fashion of those mysterious apparatus which obey the behests of london waiters in the matter of roast meats, boiled beefs, and their satellites. many officers distinguished themselves by the trouble they took in showing the men how to make themselves comfortable. the number of those employed on the roads and in various other ways rendered it difficult to get on with these works, and in many cases the officers were unable to complete their huts for want of wood and labour, and the unfinished walls stood in grim ruin here and there about the camp. wood, canvas, little bits of glass, tar and pitch, and, above all, nails and tacks, were eagerly sought after. at the headquarters' sale, on general simpson's departure, a hammer, hatchet, and saw sold for £ _s._ a bag of nails was disposed of by auction the same week for _s._, and on counting the contents it was found there were only nails in the bag. friendly little felonies of planking and such things were not unheard of, and the greatest favour you could do a friend was "to let him have a piece of board about six feet long by a foot wide;" or "the captain says, sir, as how he'd be very grateful if you could give him a bit of glass about three inches square, sir, for his winder." the heart soon grew hardened under constant pressure, and one was at last obliged to refuse "a couple of tenpenny nails" or "the loan of a hammer for an hour" with the sternness of a brutus. pictures of saints, the erotic scripture pieces, in which the muscovites delight, fat potiphar's wives and garmentless josephs, very plump susannahs and very withered elders, and "subjects" of the kind, as well as straight-backed uncomfortable arm-chairs of walnut, heavy tables, and chests of drawers, were not uncommon in the officers' tents. cats from sebastopol abounded in camp, and were very useful, inasmuch as the huts were overrun with rats and mice, not to speak of other small deer, which disappeared before the march of king frost. dogs came in from the deserted city, and domesticated themselves, whether you would or not. there were always an odd half-dozen about my hut and tent, which made night hideous with their quarrels--greyhounds, mastiffs, and sheep-dogs, and their descendants, of very mixed and indistinct types; and for two whole days my peace was menaced by a huge double-humped bactrian camel, which took a fancy to the space before the door of my hut and lay there constantly, so that our legs as we went out and in were within easy reach of his prodigious teeth. but he was a good-natured brute, and never attempted to bite unless one tried to mount him, when he disgorged his food, and spat it out at the assailant or snapped his jaws at him _in terrorem_. however, no one was sorry when he heard that the "ship of the desert" had got under way owing to the deposit of a piece of live coal and some matches on his back, and had sailed off on a piratical excursion against other infidel habitations. there were, however, thefts committed in camp more serious than those of planks or nails. blankets were not safe those chilly nights on horses in outlying stables, and the regiments that came back from kinburn found their huts broken into and robbed on their return. the officers' furniture and clothing were gone. on three occasions this week my horses were turned loose, and on two they were deprived of their blankets and clothing: a spade and a hatchet were stolen from the outside of the hut, and the thieves entered the stables of the land transport corps of the division close at hand, turned some horses loose, and stole their blankets. geese arrived at a fair state of obesity, or turkeys and fowls, were not safe for a moment, and it was almost impossible to identify the robbers. the sardinian officers who visited our ambulances declared that they were superior to the french, and took much interest in the cases of conservative surgery, which exhibited great skill and professional knowledge. in some instances, the elbow-joint having been injured, the surgeon made clean surfaces on the bones of the lower and upper arms, cut away the fractured pieces, and then brought the surfaces together, and the bones joined by a false joint, or by a sort of ligamentous union, making a stiff short arm indeed, but with a serviceable hand attached to it. the principle was extended to other injuries of limbs, and was never, perhaps, adopted to such an extent in the field as it was by our english army surgeons. chapter iii. four months of winter--situation of my hut--warm clothing--useful works--the electric telegraph--crimean mud again--spirit vendors--drainage--railway works--a sight of the enemy--criticisms by civilians--omar pasha's expedition. there were now four months of winter before us, and the drill-sergeant was busy all day. every camp resounded to his voice and to the tramp of the awkward squad. recruits had little time to spend in idleness and drinking, and steps were taken to provide soldiers with the means of reading, which they so much needed and enjoyed in the long winter nights. why could not government have been a little more liberal in the matter of candles? the issue of light was one ration to every twelve men--that is, one ration for each tent or sergeant's guard. now, good public, do you know what one ration consists of? it is just _two-thirds of an ounce_ of sperm candle, or two ounces of tallow candle--that is, of a bit very like what economic housewives are familiar with under the name of "save-alls." no one need ever say, "put out the light" in a british camp, for the candle is not lit very long before it dies of its own accord. an officer receives the same ration as is given to twelve men, but he can afford to buy candles, and if he is a field-officer his rations are increased, on the principle, i suppose, that there is more necessity for his keeping wide awake than exists in the case of a subaltern. the libraries were well filled with books, but there was little time to use them by day, and it fell dark before six o'clock; twelve men were not likely to make much progress in a novel, a tract, or an entertaining miscellany by the aid of two-thirds of an ounce of candle. they clubbed their little pieces of candle together, and resorted to many ingenious devices for keeping the lights in. some of them, like the russian or dutch sailors at spitzbergen, of whose very uncomfortable residence we all have read, used the extra fat of mutton in lamps, but in general they were obliged to purchase what extra candles they required. and all this time there were the canteens alight till an hour or more after "retreat." we had "ball" at kamiesch, which were distinguished by remarkably good conduct on the part of all present. there were hotels established at kamiesch, and restaurants, at which excellent fare was to be had at high but not extravagant prices. [sidenote: the balaklava railway.] my hut commanded a view of a considerable portion of the plateau at the other side of the tchernaya, and overlooked the spurs at mackenzie's farm, the russian encampments at inkerman, and between it and the lower belbek; from the windows, the movements of the enemy were plainly visible in moderately clear weather. on the rd of november we observed the whole of the enemy in motion along the plateau, and from an early hour in the morning till two o'clock in the afternoon their battalions were marching to and fro, but it was evident they were only changing their troops, and that the regiments which left mackenzie were replaced by regiments from the camp in the rear. the new comers at the spur huts seemed to be dressed better, to be taller men, and to wear darker coats than those who were relieved by them, and that appearance gave rise to the notion that the troops so close to us belonged to the imperial guard. their various camps were rapidly losing the look of snowy neatness of canvas, and were being converted into dingy rows of huts. we could see their telegraphs at work with the greatest facility, and i could make out the flags with my glass. it was a pity one could not have got the imperial code book of signals and a dictionary. during november excellent warm clothing was issued to the men, and so uniform was it in style that no one could distinguish officers from men, unless by the difference of style and bearing. our allies were astonished at the profuseness of our military wardrobe, which not only contained a waterproof suit, helmet and all, but fur coats and caps, cowhide boots, tweed coats lined with cat or rabbit skin, &c., and for the officers, suits of sealskin, sold at moderate prices. the french only received from their government an ordinary cloth capote, and were obliged to buy any waterproofs or furs which they found necessary. the roads indeed, even then, when we had no trenches, no prospects of an attack, no want of labour--the roads were even then objects of much interest to us all. the whistling locomotives on the railway--the "alliance," the "victory"--which recalled to us the familiar sounds of wolverhampton or of swindon, and made us believe for the moment that we were in a civilized country, were not to be taken as material guarantees for the possession of material comforts in the coming winter. mr. beatty, with small means at his command, placed the railway on an excellent basis, as far as wood, iron, and stone could secure it.[ ] the soundness of his judgment in laying out the line was confirmed by mr. doyne's adoption of a course very nearly parallel to it throughout for the grand main road between balaklava and the camp. mr. beatty was obliged to retire from a post in which he rendered services not only to the army collectively, but to many individuals in it, who will always retain a deep sense of his kindness and friendly assistance in times of domestic difficulty about huts and transports, in consequence of ill-health, which not long after proved fatal to him. mr. doyne, after careful examination, found that it would require much less labour to make a new and good road between balaklava and kadikoi by a different route, than to attempt to repair the old one while the traffic was passing over it. accordingly, a main drain was cut down the centre of the valley, running into the head of balaklava harbour, to intercept all water flowing from the east of it, and free the road and railway drains rapidly from the rain-water. the road was made parallel to the railway, the material over which it passed being deep, spongy, vegetable soil, easily drained in its natural state, but very retentive if worked up under wet; drains four feet deep were cut at forty feet apart, and the surface between rounded to a foot higher at the centre. cross-drains were cut at every forty-four yards, connecting main-drains, and the large stone pitching, twenty-eight feet wide, was filled in with smaller stones, and afterwards macadamized. before laying on the pitching, the whole traffic of the camp was turned over the formed surface for five days to beat it down, and to consolidate it, a strong force of navvies being employed in the morning and evening to keep up the proper form. this course proved perfectly successful--the surface was quite smooth when the metalling was laid on, and consequently the rain ran freely off without penetrating the soil. on this section there was laid down about , tons of hard limestone pitching and metalling on a length of one mile. from kadikoi to the stationary engine the old road up the vinoy ravine was so steep ( in ), and thus liable to be washed away, and the ground over which the down line was prepared to pass was so bad (in some places in ), that mr. doyne determined to abandon both, and to make a new road, round the eastern base of frenchman's hill, nearly parallel with the railway, and sir richard airey gave his assent to the change. here for a considerable distance the road was terraced out in the hill-side, formed of hard carboniferous limestone rock, and a clear metalled roadway was obtained from twenty to twenty-five feet wide throughout. in the next section, to mrs. seacole's hut, the old french road was widened, deep drains cut, the centre raised, and a deep coat of limestone metalling laid on. [sidenote: the doyne road.] in the next section, up to the col, the ground again sloped very rapidly, and the road was terraced out for a mile, partly in rock, sandstone, and clay, and was then formed and metalled as before. from balaklava to the col the chief difficulty to be contended with in maintaining a road was the numerous courses of water which came down the hill-sides. to protect the road against this, trenches were cut on the upper side, zig-zagging according to the line of the ground, so as to intercept the water and convey it into large culverts constructed under the road at every dip in the undulation of the hill. thus no water could get upon the road except that which actually fell upon its surface, and that small quantity was rapidly carried away into the side-drains. to relieve a road in every way from the destructive action of water, both by sub and surface drainage, is the first principle of road-making; without attention to this, any amount of labour will prove fruitless. from balaklava to the col, about three miles and a half, the works throughout were of a very heavy character, and the provisions for drainage were upon an extensive scale; besides about ten miles of open ditching, there were between and culverts constructed; from the great want of materials these were formed in every variety of way--many with army works corps' water-barrels, some with commissariat pork-casks, others with royal engineer's fascines and green platform timber. but the work which required the greatest amount of labour was the metalling, there having been over this three and a half miles nearly , tons of hard limestone rock quarried, collected, and laid upon the road. above the col the main trunk proceeded over the plateau of sebastopol, following nearly the direction of the railway, crossing the woronzoff road up to the camp of the light division, on the extreme right. here the difficulties were of a different character, and the surface and geographical formation changes from deep clay valleys and plains, and carboniferous limestone rock hills, to a comparatively uniform surface of a very plastic retentive clay; on examination, mr. doyne found this did not exceed an average of eighteen inches deep, and that underneath there is a light rubbly oolitic limestone rock, similar to that found in the neighbourhood of stroud, in gloucestershire. the whole of the clay was removed for a width of thirty-two feet, and a solid foundation was discovered, upon which the road was securely constructed by paving and metalling it with the parts of the oolite rocks which had become harder by exposure to the weather, and for the worst parts hard metal was brought from the other district. it was opened for traffic in forty-eight days from the time of its commencement. there was no gradient upon it worse than in . i ventured to express an opinion almost immediately after the capture of the south side, that the enemy's preparations indicated the intention of wintering where they lay. it was not because st. vladimir was converted in the crimea that prince gortschakoff held mackenzie's farm and the plateau of the belbek and tchernaya. but he knew that until he was dislodged, the allies were paralyzed, and that they could establish no safe basis of operations against nicholaieff or cherson while he was at simpheropol, for it would be contrary to common sense to leave such an army in their rear and flank. he hoped, therefore, either to be able to hold the crimea during the next campaign, or to be able to make such dispositions in the event of a great defeat as would ensure the safe retreat of his army to perekop and tchongar, and perhaps by a third road, of the existence of which across the sivash there were very strong indications. the electric telegraph kindly aided him in establishing himself all the more securely, for the rumour of a russian attack, to which it gave official weight, prevented the occupation of kaffa and the destruction of arabat that autumn. talk of the harm done by newspaper correspondents compared with that which was done by the electric telegraph! the first expedition to kertch, the despatch of the highlanders to eupatoria, and the expedition to kaffa were all prevented by our electric batteries at london and paris, and it is very questionable if they did not do the allies more harm than the russian guns. the french were, indeed, adverse to the kaffa movement, and admiral bruat was, it appears, more especially opposed to it; but there is no reason to doubt that it would have been successful, and the occupation of that place and the destruction of arabat would have most materially complicated the difficulty of the russian position, and contributed to the strength of the allies. the needy knife-grinder, had he been a resident in our camp during the last week of november, would not have been in possession of more abundant materials for anecdote than he was when he met mr. canning, several years ago, in the neighbourhood of eton. we were all ankle-deep in mud. ankle-deep! no! that would have been nothing! it would have been no great matter of complaint or grievance if we had had to deal with the ordinary material, so familiar to all londoners, before the scavengers remove the formidable soft parapets which line the kerbstones after a day or two of rain. _that_ can be scraped off, cleaned, rubbed away, or washed out. this crimean preparation nothing but long and persevering efforts, continually renewed, and combining all the former operations, could remove. it stuck in pasty clods to the shoes, and would insist on being brought into clean huts and tents to visit your friends. it had a great affection for straws, with which it succeeded in working itself up into a gigantic brick, somewhat underdone, in which condition it threatened to build your legs into the ground if you stood long enough in one place to give it a chance; and it mightily affected horseshoes also, and sucked them off, with a loud smack of relish, in those little ravines between rocky hill-sides in which it exercised the greatest influence. literally and truly, it was like glue half boiled and spread over the face of the earth for the depth of several feet. it was no joke for a soldier to see his sleeping-place, in hut or tent, covered with this nasty slime; yet they could not be kept clean. take but one step outside, and you were done for. the mud was lying in wait for you, and you just carried back as much on your feet as if you had walked a mile. carts stuck immovably in the ground, or the wheels and axles flew into pieces from the strain of the horses and mules. [sidenote: social vultures.] the waste of property as of life in war is prodigious, and much of it seems unavoidable. i firmly believe that for three feet deep the whole of the quay at balaklava, near the commissariat landing-place, was at this time a concrete of corn. it was no uncommon thing to see a croat or turkish labourer waddling slowly along with a sack on his back, from which the corn descended in streams against his heels, till he arrived from the ship at the store, and then to behold him depositing the collapsed and flaccid bag on the heap with great gravity and satisfaction at his success in diminishing his load at every step. in the various divisional commissariat depôts an enormous loss of grain occurred from similar causes, and from shifting the sacks and the distribution of the rations. but it seemed to be impossible to prevent these losses, which were regarded as incidental to a state of war. our authorities waged a war of extermination against spirit vendors, and, above all, against rakee importers. this villanous spirit inflamed men's brains and set them mad; it had all the abominable properties of fresh-run rum or new whisky, but it affected the nervous system more mischievously, and produced prostration, which frequently ended in death. it was dreadfully cheap, colourless like gin, with a taste of bad anisette and a fiery burning smack on the tongue, and was alcohol all but pure, with the exception of the adulteration, which contributes the flavour. the owners were compelled to start the poison into the sea, and then to leave the crimea instanter. every canteen-keeper or storekeeper on whose premises a drunken soldier was seen, no matter what the excuse might be, was fined £ for each, and the provost-marshal had more money than he knew what to do with from this source alone. but they are a wealthy race, these social vultures--many of them king vultures--respectable birds of prey, with kempt plumage and decent demeanour--others mere "adjutants," dirty and predaceous. the sutlers of kadikoi cared little for £ fines while they could get _d._ a dozen for tacks, and _s._ a pound for lard _sub nomine_ butter, and they paid their taxes like lords, or rather much more willingly, now that the income-tax is pressing on the poor nobility. taxes!--what is the man talking about? it is quite true, nevertheless. there was an unchartered corporation in the town of kadikoi, with a mayor and aldermen, or town councillors, and a vigorous administrative staff that would astonish the elder brethren about guildhall. they had a machinery of scavengers and the sewer-men, and they paid about £ a month for keeping their city in order. but sutlers, and canteens, and provisions were of no use without roads, and the word was heard of oftener, and the thing thought of more than anything else, in the autumn of . notwithstanding the numerous good roads through the camps, there were exceedingly deep and heavy tracts to be traversed by thousands of animals under their burdens. there were two men to every three horses or mules, and it was scarcely possible for them to perform long marches, from the divisional camps to balaklava and back again, and afterwards to attend to the animals and clean them properly. in some muddy pool or in some deep scarp on the hill-side the poor animal, which perhaps stood in uncovered stables all night, and was badly groomed, or not rubbed down at all, sank beneath its load and died there in lingering agony. no one was permitted to shoot these wretched creatures. i well remember the skeleton spectre of a wretched grey horse, with a sore back, which haunted fourth division camp for weeks before it fell into a ditch and died. it had been turned loose to live or perish, and it was a shocking sight to behold the dogs leaping up against it to lick its sores; but there it remained for days, with its legs drawn close together, and no one dared to put it out of pain. these spectacles recalled the terrors of the previous winter. every one exclaimed, "how fortunate that sebastopol has fallen! what should we have done had we to guard the trenches this winter!" not that there could have been an equal amount of physical suffering, but that there would have been a great deal of unavoidable misery, and disease, and death incident on another winter's active operations, despite railroads, depôts, roads, warm clothing, and abundant food. it must not be supposed that there are no inconveniences in living in the open air during a crimean winter. a bed with a lively little sewer intersecting it is not the most agreeable thing in winter time; but the camp view of such a catastrophe is that "it serves them right for not pitching their tents better." at the same time there were loud outcries against the new huts, and the letters "o.l.b.," with which they were marked, were said to mean "officers' leaky bunks." it is considered that if the government had sent out hammers, nails, planks, and felt, the men would have done much better. early in december the siege artillery was ordered home--and the batteries were filled up to their full complement. the staff officers of the train returned to woolwich. chapter iv. a second christmas in the crimea--festivities--strength of the russian army in the crimea--exhaustion--camp followers--stirring incidents--harbour discipline--russian fire--order of merit--destruction of the docks--plan of proceeding--grand review of english troops--splendid appearance of the men. [sidenote: the second christmas.] the monotony of life in the huge military colony before sebastopol was broken slightly by the appearance of the russians on the heights of ourkousta, and by some demonstrations of an intention on their part to try the strength of the french positions in the baidar valley. as the french retired in the presence of winter, the enemy threw forward their advanced posts at koluluz and markul to the north-east, and from aitodor and ozembash to the north of baidar. on sunday morning, the th of december, the russians, with their feline aptitude for surprises, crept round the little village of baga in the dark, and just at the dawn rushed in upon the small party of the french which occupied it. for a time the surprise was complete; but our gallant allies soon got together, and after a smart fusillade, drove out the enemy at the point of the bayonet. the russians had many horsemen with them. in the pursuit of the cossacks our allies managed to capture some forty horses, for the former gentry fled by a road which in old times was good enough for a run, but they were astonished to find themselves stopped by a deep scarp at a pretty spot, where a wall of rock closed the road at the right-hand side, and a precipice formed the left-hand boundary, so they had nothing for it but to dismount and scramble across, leaving the horses, accoutrements and all, to their fate. in this affair the french had officer mortally wounded, men killed, and wounded, and the russians left dead on the ground, and men prisoners in the hands of the french. on monday, december , a high mass, at which many english officers attended, was performed on board the french flagship for the soul of admiral bruat. the decease of the admiral was heard of by our navy with sincere regret. about the same time we heard of the fall of kars. criticism on military matters by civilians is worthless when the questions agitated relate to the details of manoeuvres or to pure strategy, but military men cannot expect to be exempted from the criticism of civilians on general questions relative to the conduct of the war. captain smith may have his grenadier company in perfect order and discipline, and may lead them with the greatest gallantry; but the civilian who from some eminence sees captain smith taking his men into broken ground, filled with riflemen or swept with grape, where their order and discipline are of little service to them, is entitled to exclaim, "what a fool that fellow is!" when kars had fallen, every one said, "what the deuce were omar pasha and his turks doing so long at baidar, or encamped on the tumuli overlooking the plains of balaklava and the english head-quarters? of what use were they perpetually _in transitu_ between eupatoria and the col of balaklava, or on the tramp between kamara and phoros? why was kars allowed to fall, and why was omar pasha sent to asia minor so late in the year?" the defence of kars was honourable, but so was the defence of sebastopol, and kars was not less russian because it was won by so much of their best blood. the turks, indeed (according to the testimony of all acquainted with them), were most miserably mismanaged and badly handled, and no use was made of them except to garrison eupatoria, which they would have been able to do with at most half of their army. thus the remaining half might have been set free for active operations. although the fate of kars could not materially influence the result of the struggle in the crimea, active operations directed against the enemy from kars might, in the opinion of most excellent judges, have produced very considerable results on the calculations of the next campaign, and on the prospects of the war. but the fall of kars produced no surprise--the wonder rather seemed to be that it held out so long, and every one admitted that he had a secret presentiment that the city must, sooner or later, fall into the hands of the russians. every one who knew the country felt persuaded that omar pasha's expedition set out too late, and yet we all fell into ecstasies at the passage of the ingour, and talked of the march on kutais as if these things could save kars, and no one cared to look at the map or consider the chances of such a result. the winter at last set in, but cold and frost had lost their terrors for the army then. there is an old saying, that "a green christmas makes a full churchyard," and it might have been realized, inasmuch as the cholera appeared in the highland regiments--notable sufferers in epidemics of the kind--and some cases occurred in other regiments, before the thermometer fell below freezing-point. on tuesday forenoon (dec. th) the thermometer was at °; on wednesday (dec. th) it was °; on thursday (dec. th) it fell to °; on friday (dec. th) it was °; on the th it marked ° fahrenheit. with moderate exercise, hard ground, good footing, good feeding, warm clothing, and occupation, there was little reason to entertain any apprehension for the troops during the winter. it must be stated, however, that the complaints against the new huts were numerous and well founded, and during the wet weather it was seriously proposed to remove the men, and put them into double tents. they never were intended, i presume, to keep out water without some felt or waterproof covering, and none had been provided: not even the tar and pitch in one of the vessels at balaklava could be landed. still this promised to be a joyous christmas. solitary subalterns rode out to miskomia, and gazed gloomily on the beautiful mistletoe which grows on all the wild pear and apple trees in these lovely valleys. their contentment returned when they thought of the fat goose, which, tied by the leg, was waiting his doom by the kitchen tent or bakehouse, or of the tender pig, which had been reared up from his childhood for the sole object of doing honour to the coming feast, and was "just fit to be killed." contrasts were drawn between dinners in the trenches, on dreary outposts, on remote guards and pickets the year before, and the luxuries which were then forthcoming for the grand english festival. men remembered "that tough old turkey, which cost _s._, and that turned the edge of the carver like plate glass," and laughed over the fate which seemed somehow to attend most efforts to be jolly that christmas, and then turned and looked round their huts, which generally, it must be confessed, were very like retail grocers' establishments, backwood stores, or canteen-men's magazines. the shelves placed along the walls in layers, the cupboards made of packing-cases or powder boxes, filled with _pâtés_ in strasburgh ware, hams, tins of soups and preserves, made dishes, vegetables, long-necked bottles of french manufacture, and the stumpier sturdier work of the english glass-blower. there was a stove or some substitute for a fireplace in each hut, which always enjoyed the advantage of a famous draught from the door and walls. as to the latter, the embellishments upon them whiled away many an idle hour, and afforded opportunities for the exercise of taste, good and bad, the monuments of which perished with the spring. they consisted chiefly of illustrations from the pictorial papers and _punch_, transposed ingeniously by the introduction of faces, figures, and bits of different engravings, with the view of giving them a ludicrous or whimsical character, and the result was often very amusing. the walls were covered with them; a pastepot, a pair of scissors, some old papers, and a little fancy--these were materials of which a man could make wonderful use in enlivening and decorating the wooden walls of his temporary residence. [sidenote: new balaklava.] on the night of the th of december, the storm howled and raged fearfully over the camp, and brought a deluge of rain, which it discharged in water-spouts, driving it through huts and tents, and forcing it in streams through the minutest interstices. the gusts were extremely violent, and the beating of the rain kept many a one awake with only one topic of consolation, namely, that there was "no trench guard to-night." until four o'clock the wind seemed to come from the south-west, but at that hour it veered round towards the north, and became bitterly cold. all at once the rain was converted into hail and snow; the wet ground began to freeze; and at eight o'clock, by one of those magical changes which can only be equalled by the chymical landscapes of our childhood, the whole camp, which, at sundown the night before, was an expanse of blackish mud, dotted with white tents and huts, became a sheet of dazzling white, marked with lines of dusky, greyish habitations of canvas and wood. the wind was exceedingly cold and penetrating. the unfortunate natives of southern europe or of asia, employed in such myriads in the service of the army, suffered greatly on such occasions, and perished like flies in frost. the huge swarm of camp-followers, who, to the number of some ten thousand, hovered about the canteens and round balaklava, kadikoi, and the fairs, also felt the effects of this weather. there were not less than , camp followers, including those of the french, sardinians, and english, belonging to the allied army, or hanging on their skirts. in the pursuit of gain, most of these people exposed themselves to considerable hardships and privations. how they provided fodder for the beasts they drove was one of the secrets of their peculiar existence, and the variety of vehicles belonging to these bashi-bazouks of trade and commerce constituted a curious detail of the wonders of the camp. one might witness the incidents of the scenes of the last year repeated in the winter of ' . i saw an old turk in a moribund state carried into balaklava on the back of a native almost as wretched-looking as himself; and riding on to the land transport camp, between kadikoi and the col, i beheld a native bearing in the same way a living skeleton from one tent into another. these men were provided by government with long turkish gregos, but, somehow or other, exposure to bad weather produced disastrous results upon them, although their frames seemed very vigorous. i am afraid the temperance society won't forgive me if i express a private opinion that a little stimulant might have been "exhibited" on these poor fellows, who ate largely of vegetables, and were saturated with onions, garlic, and leeks; and that, under the circumstances, they might, without injury, have partaken of a moderate quantity of spirits. if i am not mistaken, sir philip crampton is of opinion that so long as the irish are a potatophagous race, a predilection for whisky will be found among them, in obedience to a secret sympathy of nature, which seeks an ally in alcohol against the effects of her esculent enemy. i do not know for certain that the gallant surgeon-general ever expressed that opinion, nor would i invoke teetotal wrath and water on his head by saying so; and i beg to disclaim, also, the smallest intention of theorizing, for i think of the hindoos and rice, of yankee whalers and hot coffee, and i tremble and am silent. sometimes a very pretty little rebellion sprang up among the native drivers of the land transport corps of the fourth division. they would not stir, in spite of eloquent exhortations in the best hindostanee addressed to them by captain dick, who, standing knee-deep in snow and mud, harangued them as they lay inside their tents. they "sahibbed" away and shrugged their shoulders, and plaintively expressed a decided desire to be flogged, accompanied by suggestions also that they should be at once executed; but they one and all declared that work they would not on such a raw and gusty day. the discipline of the harbour was strict, but it sometimes happened that unruly turks or greeks ran their vessels right in slap-dash among the shipping, neither comprehending signals nor regulations. the order of mooring was preserved strictly by english ships. the vessels lay with sterns to the quay, in three rows, the inner line consisting of ships with cargoes of first necessity, and so on; the large ships in deep water at the diamond wharf, higher up the harbour on the western side. the sardinians had a portion of the harbour near the cattle wharf, and the french a reserved quay close to them. with its forest of masts closely packed together--its wall-like sides of rock--its wooden houses--its railway--its parti-coloured population--its babel of tongues--its huge mountains of stores piled for many feet high by the water's edge--its tremendous traffic--its mud--its locomotive whistling through the main street, and regarded by the rude tartar from distant holes as a wild beast of inconceivable power and ferocity--and its picturesque old ruins, balaklava was well worth a visit. by the bye, any antiquary desirous of seeing the castle ought to have gone out quickly; it was undergoing demolition fast, and the work of the genoese was from time to time being transferred to the holds of merchantmen in the ignoble form of "ballast!" it is lucky, perhaps, that the piræus was not the scene of our operations, for in that case the acropolis in a fragmentary state might have been _en route_ for newcastle, as the centre of gravity of the _black diamond_ transport, and the parthenon might have been employed to trim the _john smith_ of london. but, if we destroyed, so did we create. a splendid military road from balaklava to the front, with numerous branches and arms, was no bad equivalent for the walls of a ruined fortress. [sidenote: destruction of the docks.] the air was full of drumming and fifing and trumpeting. the regiments were getting up their bands again, and the exertion was generally distressing to the neighbourhood; but there was no use in writing to the _times_ on the subject. it was, however, irritating to the last degree to be surrounded by drummers, who were sent to my part of the camp as a favourable spot for practice, and i was compelled for hours to be the unwilling auditor of first lessons on the bugle and french horn. the french were indefatigable at this work. every one recollects the three little drummers who were always "dubbing" away like mad on that little spot at capecure, near the south pier of boulogne. they were out in the crimea multiplied exceedingly, and as active in elbow and wrist as ever. it would be a curious subject for the statist to ascertain when the french drummer is perfect in his art. as far as i can perceive, he must be a tolerably elderly man before he leaves off practice, and can only be enjoyed in perfection for a very brief period before he retires from the service altogether. the russians kept up a pertinacious fire upon the town. sebastopol was a disagreeable place to go to on pleasure, for shot and shell were continually lobbing along the streets, houses falling piecemeal, and stones flying about from the shock of cannon-balls. the casualties, however, were very few, and the french displayed great ingenuity in erecting comfortable magazines and shops in out-of-the-way parts of the town, where one could get a cup of coffee and a cigar without much danger. but to the uninitiated the roar of a ball and the twittering hiss of a shell fail to give zest to these luxuries. it was no longer an occurrence of every week to go down to sebastopol, and few people resorted to the docks unless they were on duty, or had just come out, and were under the painful necessity of going _en amateur_. the whole establishment of a _cantinière_ went smash one day through the operation of a shell, and, although it was tolerably well filled, the only damage done was to the poor proprietress, who lost her hand and an immense amount of crockery, comestibles, and customers. writing under the date december , i said, "it is to be hoped that if an order of merit be established, it will bear the name of the queen in whose reign it was instituted, and with the signification of whose royal prænomen it would so thoroughly harmonize. there is a strong desire that bronze crosses should be prepared bearing inscriptions relating to the number of bombardments, so that each man should bear a distinctive mark of the amount of trench-duty he has done. when kenealy, one of the privates of the st who entered the redan with major-general windham, was asked whether he would have the £ or a decoration, he replied he would much sooner have the latter; and this feeling is shared by all good soldiers: whereas, the notion with the home authorities seemed to be, that money was more welcome than anything else." the frost continued, and on december the thermometer marked °, but there was a clear fine sky and a bright sun above. the mud became a rigid furrowed lake, with iron waves cast up by old cart-tracks and horses' hoofs, and the roads were crowded and blocked up by the vast numbers of _fourgons_, carts, horses, and pack animals so suddenly forced upon them. the destruction of the far-famed docks of sebastopol was an event in the annals of military engineering. a regular diary of the operations was kept by the officers engaged, and this, should it ever be published, cannot fail to be most interesting. war has stern necessities, but there was something lamentable in seeing such great and magnificent works as these docks were, thus pitilessly destroyed. it may give some idea of the labour necessary to reconstruct these docks, to say that after clearing away the ponderous ruins it would be necessary to dig down some twenty feet below the original bottom--so much has the earth been disturbed by the successive explosions--to drive piles and use concrete, and form an entirely new foundation. during the latter part of december the weather was extremely cold, but all that month and the following january preparations were urged forward for the destruction of the docks of sebastopol. although to most persons the general aspect of these docks has probably become well known from descriptions and drawings, i will briefly explain their position and arrangement. they extended nearly due north and south (a little to the east of north and west of south), and consisted of three inner docks, a basin, and two outer docks, with a lock between them. the french undertook the destruction of the outer docks, the lock, and the northern half of the basin; the english that of the inner docks and the southern half of the basin. the lock, although capacious, was easier to destroy than a dock, its circumference being a plain stone wall, instead of heavy stone steps fit for a giant's staircase. the french did their share of the work very effectually. for various reasons the english works were more gradual in their progress, but were not less thoroughly carried out, and, if a non-professional but highly-interested observer might express an opinion, they did great credit to the scientific skill of the engineers to whom they were entrusted. i believe the first idea was to blow up the whole at once, which would probably have given a more picturesque appearance, and have produced a more thorough ruin. but this plan was abandoned by reason of the dampness of the ground. water flowed in from the ravine in the rear of the docks, and rose in the shafts of the mines. it is probable that, had the engineers waited to explode the numerous mines until all of them were complete, the powder would have become damp in many of them, and would not have ignited; so it was resolved to blow up a little at a time. it was difficult for any one who has not seen these docks both before and after their destruction, fully to appreciate the magnitude of the operations, and the force that must have been applied to root up and utterly overthrow such massive constructions, such huge blocks of granite so firmly cemented, such mighty timbers, which now lie snapped asunder like reeds or rent into huge splinters. [sidenote: destruction of the docks.] there were probably two reasons for the care with which the engineers measured their charges. one, that by leaving the docks encumbered and filled up with their own ruins they bequeathed a harder task to any future rebuilder than if they scattered the stone linings far and wide, and left the chasms comparatively clear. the second reason, that by more violent explosions they would probably have shaken down buildings, overthrown the dockyard wall (which already totters and loses stones from its summit when a mine is let off), and perhaps caused accidents. the russians fired a great deal at times, but although their fire was occasionally accurate enough, shell after shell falling into the docks, they caused little loss. of accidents occurring from the explosions, one was of a peculiar nature. the explosion by the dock-gate had taken place, and some sappers were busy at the bottom of a shaft forty or fifty feet off, when a noxious gas, generated by the explosion, entered the gallery, filtering through the intervening earth. the effect was gradual--one after another the men became giddy, and some of them insensible. with infinite alacrity and courage non-commissioned officers and soldiers descended the shaft, braving a danger which seemed the greater because its extent and nature were unknown, to succour their comrades, and as they got down they in turn were overpowered by the offensive gas. major nicholson and lieutenant graham also went down, and suffered in consequence. the former was insensible, when, supported by his men, he reached the top of the shaft, and it was some time before he recovered. to sum up the accident: one man perished, and seven or eight were seriously affected, but recovered. a man went down into the mine after the accident, holding in his mouth the extremity of a tube down which air was pumped to him, and he walked about with perfect impunity, and collected the men's caps and things they had left behind. the quantity of powder used in the explosion of fort nicholas was , kilogrammes, or , french pounds. double that quantity was found under the fort when the engineers commenced their operations. this was not the only concealed store of powder the french discovered in their part of sebastopol. the intention was that all the mines should explode simultaneously, and that they did not do so was attributable to some fault in beckford's fuse, known among the french as _le cordon anglais_. the effect, however, was very fine, and nothing could be more complete than the destruction. the operations against the docks may be said to have commenced at the end of november, for although a beginning was made at an earlier period, the works were quickly suspended, and resumed only at the above date. the french did their work in four explosions; the english had six, besides minor ones of small extent. fort alexander was blown up, in three explosions, at one o'clock on february th. the destruction was complete, but the place did not look such a perfect level as the site of fort nicholas, and the sea face was intentionally left standing. the day was dry, but not bright, and the absence of sun detracted from the striking nature of the spectacle, which was, however, sufficiently imposing, but not equal to that of fort nicholas's downfall. the russians, who had been firing a little from the inkerman batteries just before the fort blew up, were perfectly silent for some time after the explosion, apparently thinking it more dignified to contemplate the destruction of their fortresses calmly than to exhibit impotent wrath and to expend their ammunition unprofitably. at a later period of the day they fired more than usual from the north side. a stroll about the environs of sebastopol, and the sight of the enormous cannon-balls and fragments of monster shells that strew the ground in all directions, impressed one with a respectful idea of the power of powder; but the respect was vastly increased by a view of the havoc it played in such stupendous works as the docks--structures formed to last for ages, and to the duration of which no limit could be assigned. the difficulty of destruction was enhanced in the case of the docks allotted to the english by the fact that these were in part hewn out of solid rock. the basin thus formed was lined with huge masses of stone, and between rock and stone earth was filled in. the engineers availed themselves of the soft interval for their mines, and blew the walls and counterforts inwards, but the rock remains, marking in places the outline of the docks. the counterforts were of prodigious strength and thickness. then there was a deep covered drain outside the docks, for the purpose of emptying them when desired, of which the engineers, of course, made use. greatly incommoded at first by the water that flowed down the ravine in their rear, they overcame this difficulty at no small expense of labour. their mode of operating against the docks varied according to circumstances, but seems to have consisted in a great measure of regular mines, with shaft and gallery. two of these shafts down which i looked were about thirty feet deep. the engineers had blown up the eastern pier, or extremity of that side of the dock, to which a gate was attached--one of the jaws of the dock; and this explosion seems to have been as complete in its effect as any that have taken place. the huge mass was lifted up and dislocated, and the enormous transverse beams, masses of black timber of incalculable strength, were torn from their fastenings, snapped in twain, and remained with their splintered ends resting against each other, in the shape of a house-roof. below the pointed arch thus formed was a black chasm, and heaped around, piles of stone and dusty ruins. everything was removed and riven without being scattered; and this was the object at which our engineers constantly aimed. they sought all along, and generally with much success, so to proportion the charges of their mines that, while everything should be overturned, rooted out, and thrown into the utmost confusion (literally topsyturvy), as little as possible should be thrown out of the crater. and accordingly most of their explosions had not the appearance which would popularly be anticipated from the letting off of two, three, or more thousand pounds of powder. there was no diverging gush of stones, but a sort of rumbling convulsion of the ground; a few blocks and fragments were cast up to a moderate height, but the effect upon the spectator was that of some gigantic subterranean hand just pushing the masses a short distance out of their places, turning them upside down, and rolling them over each other in a cloud of smoke and dust. [sidenote: grand review.] on the th of february , of our infantry were there assembled for inspection and review by the commander-in-chief, and the bayonets of forty-six british battalions bristled upon telegraph hill, overlooking the valley of the tchernaya. the morning was so cold, that some who impatiently awaited the spectacle feared it would be again postponed, but the earth and air were dry, and after church service the divisions were seen marching from their camps in the direction of the parade-ground. as the troops marched up, the pioneers busied themselves with filling the small circular trenches where tents had formerly stood; and, when the review was over, the whole surface had been trodden by hoof and foot as level as a bowling-green. those english officers, of various arms and departments, whom duty did not call out or keep in, flocked in hundreds to witness the review of a larger number of british troops than has been held for forty years. there was every variety of french and sardinian and even spanish uniform. marshal pelissier came on the ground in his carriage and four, by which is not to be understood a handsome vehicle and showy team, with well-kept harness and neat postilions--but a very rough, nearly paintless drag, with harness partly of rope, horses that matched the carriage as regards roughness, and soldiers in artillery saddles on the near wheeler and leader. his little escort of chasseurs contrasted with the english hussars who followed sir william codrington. marshal pelissier alighted from his carriage, and took his station at the foot of a hillock, opposite the centre of the line, of the whole of which he then commanded a good view. the array of the troops was nearly completed when a shell was seen to burst high in the air above the valley of the tchernaya. our russian friends politely informed us that they were present and attentive, reckoning that we should see their messenger, though they could not expect him to reach us. the line was formed in continuous columns of companies, with intervals of six paces between each regiment. its face was towards the russian positions beyond the valley. on the right were the guards and the regiments forming the first division; then came the highlanders; then the second, third, and fourth divisions; and finally the light division. when the inspection was completed, general codrington took up his station in front, to the right of the knoll where marshal pelissier was posted, and the troops marched past in open column. the guards came by, of course with their own favourite tune, "the british grenadiers;" the pipes of the highlanders squeaked, squealed, and droned forth that strange combination of sounds so dear to scotch ears, and so discordant to those of saxon or gaul; one brigade marched on to "partant pour la syrie," in compliment to the french. the second brigade of the fourth division had one of the best bands, and played a spirited march, but, generally speaking, the music of this army had not recovered the losses of the war. the troops marched past in front of the ground on which they had just stood in line. the morning had been grey and dull up to the commencement of the review, but the clouds then grew thinner and dispersed a little, and a few fitful gleams of sunshine shone upon british legions as they descended the slope in most perfect order, a broad steady torrent of bayonets, not rapid but irresistible. a finer military sight could hardly be seen than was presented by that matchless infantry. the healthy appearance of the men testified to good keep and much care taken of them; their soldierly carriage and perfect dressing proved that their officers had profited by the unusually fine and open winter to hasten the military education of the numerous recruits. the rifles were much praised by the foreign officers. many were the tattered and shot-rent banners borne by. the colours of the rd fusiliers were like a sieve, pierced with countless bullets, and telling the eloquent and bloody tale of the alma and of inkerman. those of the th and th were much riddled, and many regiments were fain to keep their banners furled, their torn condition not allowing of their display to the breeze. the whole of the troops having marched past in open column, formed up at some distance to the north of telegraph hill, on lower ground, nearer to the camp, and thither general codrington proceeded. people were chilled with sitting still on their horses, and delighted to get a canter; the ground was good, the air fresh, the opportunity tempting, and away went high mettled english chargers, fleet arabs, and tough turkish and tartar ponies at a smart pace. the field was a large one, and two or three small ditches towards the end of the course gave animation to the chase, until at last the general was run to earth, hard by where sat the french marshal in his carriage, and all passed up to witness the second _défilé_, which was in close column. after this the divisions marched straight away to their various camps, and the country on all sides was seen thickly sprinkled with horsemen cantering homewards, bent, in most cases, on taking to themselves something of a warming nature, for the cold had really been sharp, and no speculative canteen-man had thought of sending emissaries with well-lined baskets to the scene of the review. when all was over, marshal pelissier went up to general codrington, and complimented him in the highest terms on the appearance of his troops. the numbers on parade would have been considerably larger had the whole of our effective infantry turned out, but general warren's brigade, stationed at balaklava, was not ordered up, neither were the nd highlanders and the two battalions of the st royals, which were encamped some way beyond kamara; and then there was the garrison of sebastopol, and the redan picket, camp guards, &c.; so that, altogether, there were many battalions and parts of battalions absent. it was purely an infantry review--no artillery, nor cavalry, save the handful of hussars employed in escorting the general and keeping the ground. [sidenote: delay and disappointment.] chapter v. news of an armistice--destruction of the white buildings--the explosion--a lively and novel scene at traktir bridge--fraternization--the cossacks--meeting of the generals--death of major ranken--the armistice finally settled--ruin of sebastopol--can it rise again?--visits to the tchernaya--discussions on army matters--system of purchase--pros and cons. the morning of february th brought us news of the conclusion of an armistice. the russians had it first, by telegraph from st. petersburg, and the mail from constantinople brought its confirmation to the allies. at a.m. a boat, bearing a flag of truce, put off from the north side, and was met half-way across the harbour by one from the french. the russians brought a communication from general lüders. as if to celebrate the armistice, the so-called white buildings were blown up in the afternoon. soon after three o'clock, spectators began to assemble at the redan, in front of picket-house hill, on cathcart's hill, and in other commanding positions. there was not a very strong muster at any of these places, for we were rather _blasé_ in the matter of explosions; and, although the day was bright and sunny, the ground was very heavy with mud and snow, and the cold too sharp to be pleasant. there was a certain amount of snowballing among the pedestrians, which doubtless contributed to keep up a supply of caloric, and one or two base attacks were made upon unfortunate equestrians, who, not having snow within their reach, or a supply of ready-made snowballs in their pockets, had no choice but to charge their assailants or resort to ignominious flight. half an hour passed; feet were very cold, noses very blue, fingers hardly felt the reins, grumbling was heard: "it is nearly four o'clock; why the deuce doesn't it go off?" patience, i fear, was not a very common virtue in the crimean army. an impromptu "shave," suggested by the circumstances of the moment, was passed about. "pelissier is coming; they wait for him." now it so happened that pelissier was _not_ coming. the armistice gave him something to do and think of, and moreover, he had been disappointed a few days before, when it had been notified to him that the white buildings were to be blown up. so he no longer put his faith in the unpunctual engineers of perfidious albion. some french and other foreign officers came, waiting patiently and confidingly in the redan, and in front of picket-house hill, just over the ravine. another half-hour passed. a quarter-past four, and no explosion. strong language began to be used; wishes were uttered, the fulfilment of which would certainly not be desired by the engineers, at whose door, rightly or wrongly, the delay was laid. the third half-hour had not quite elapsed when the report spread that the explosion was "put off." according to some accounts, it would occur in an hour and a half; according to others, next day, while a third party talked of the next week; there was a general movement campwards. a few artillery officers still stuck to the redan; picket-house hill was quickly cleared, except of one or two obstinate expectants, cathcart's hill was abandoned by many. just at a quarter to five, when few of the weary who had departed could have reached their quarters, and some could have been but a hundred or two yards on the wrong side of the hill-crests, out gushed a small puff of white smoke from the white buildings--then came a big puff of black smoke. there was a slight explosion, a grumbling roar; stones were hurled into the air and pitched high over the eastern wall into the docks, and after a silence which seemed to last nearly a minute, came a series of pops and puffs as mines went off in rapid succession, an immense volume of smoke appeared, not in dense sluggish masses slowly surging up, as at the explosion of fort nicholas, but in a thinner cloud, which rose so high that the summit of the murky column was visible over picket-house hill to persons some way down the woronzoff road, where it passed through the light division camp. after the explosions of the buildings, fort constantine sent a solitary shell into the french side, so the armistice was not considered to be perfect until after the conference. major george ranken, of the royal engineers, was killed at the explosion of the white buildings. a mine having failed to explode, major ranken sent his men to a distance and entered the place to renew the train. from the position in which his corpse was found it was supposed that he had completed his perilous task, and was about getting through a window when the explosion took place and the building fell in. his arm was broken, and there were injuries to the skull and spine which must have occasioned instant death. major ranken commanded the ladder party in the last attack on the redan. he was a most promising officer, a great favourite with his comrades, and his loss was deplored by all who knew him. it was hard to have escaped the murderous fire of the th of september only to die, less than five months later, crushed beneath a shattered wall. the unfortunate officer was buried with military honours, at the engineers' cemetery, left attack. he was followed to the grave by general eyre, commanding the third division; by colonel lloyd, commanding the royal engineers; and by a large number of officers of his own corps and of other arms. major ranken had the melancholy distinction of being the last englishman killed in the crimea. the last frenchman killed there fell in a duel. [sidenote: the cossacks.] on the morning of february the th there was a lively and novel scene at ten o'clock at traktir bridge. at its further end a white flag was hoisted, and just beyond it some five-and-twenty cossacks halted, who had escorted thither the russian general timovoieff and his staff. at a few minutes past ten general barnard and some staff officers rode down through the ravine between the two hills on which the battle of the tchernaya was fought, and crossed to the other side of the river. the generals who met to arrange the details of the armistice occupied two tents, pitched on a strip of greensward in the rear of the bridge. they were, general timovoieff, chief of the staff of the th corps of the russian army, which was in front and furnished the advanced posts; generals de martimprey and windham and colonel count pettiti, chiefs of the staffs of the french, english, and sardinian armies. the three latter were deputed by their generals-in-chief to present the proposals of armistice which these had discussed and decided upon. their mission extended no further, and general timovoieff, not being authorized to accept those proposals without referring them to his general-in-chief, merely took a copy of them to transmit to general lüders. there were, perhaps, half a dozen other english officers, about as many french, and a much larger number of sardinians. all these went over the bridge, and a sort of fraternization ensued between them and some russian officers--that is to say, there was a good deal of civility, and some ill-treatment of the french and german languages; but, as to carrying on much conversation with our muscovite friends, it was not an easy matter, for there seemed a mutual embarrassment as to what subject to pitch upon. horses were a natural theme, and the russians expressed admiration of some of those present, and were probably rather astonished at their good condition. the great object of curiosity to us was the fur-capped cossacks, around whom the allied officers assembled, examining their arms; and equipments and entering into conversation, which, in most cases, was carried on by signs. they were slender, wiry men--ugly enough, most of them--mounted on small, rough, active horses, and carrying, besides sword and carbine, flagless lances, whose long black poles terminated in a small but very sharp-pointed steel head. they seemed well pleased to cultivate the acquaintance of their enemies, and also had evidently an eye to the main chance. one of the first things i saw was a cossack corporal proposing a barter to a sardinian officer. the latter had a tolerably good riding-whip, for which the astute child of the don insisted on swapping a shabby sort of instrument of torture, of which his pony was doubtless rejoiced to be rid. the sardinian hesitated, the cossack persisted, and the exchange was effected, the officer looking, as i thought, rather ruefully after his departed _cravache_, and somewhat contemptuously at the shabby but characteristic stick and thong he had received for it. the signal thus given, the whip trade soon acquired great activity. probably some of the officers present were ready enough to part with a tolerably good whip for a bad cossack one, as a _souvenir_ of the day's proceedings and of the commencement of the armistice. it had been expected that vedettes would be placed, and that very little freedom of intercourse would be allowed beyond the bridge of traktir, and people at first thought themselves fortunate in getting over the bridge and having a good view of the cossacks and a chat with some stray russian officer. later, however, as the morning, which had previously been cold and raw, advanced, and the sun shone bright and warm, the dry, grassy, and shrub-grown plain of the tchernaya looking tempting for a canter, officers began to get restless, and to move away from the bridge across a small stream or ditch, and up a strip of level ground leading to a sort of monument, a square pedestal of rough stones surmounted by a dwarf pillar, of no particular order of architecture, and concerning whose origin and object the russians, of whom inquiry was made, could say nothing. some more sardinian and french officers had by this time come down, but besides those engaged in the conference and attached to general windham's staff, i do not think there were a dozen english officers on the ground. the general disposition of all seemed to be to move outwards in the direction of the russian lines. people did not know how far they might go, and accordingly felt their way, cantering across a bit of level ground, and up a hill, and then pausing to look about them and reconnoitre the country and see whether there was any sign of obstacles to further progress. the soil was of a lighter and more sandy nature than it was generally found to be within our lines; in some places it was rather thickly sprinkled with bushes, saplings, and tall weeds. several brace of red-legged partridges were sprung, some of them so near our horses' feet that a hunting-whip would have reached them. [sidenote: the conference at traktir.] as the day advanced, the field grew still larger. a french general arrived with his staff and several french hussar officers. numbers of sardinians came, but the english were detained in camp by a muster parade, and many also had been misinformed that the meeting of the generals was not to take place until twelve or one. the horses, long accustomed to sink to the fetlock in horrid balaklavan and sebastopolitan mire, seemed to enjoy the change to the firm, springy turf beyond the tchernaya; more partridges were sprung, to the immense tantalization of some there present, who would have given a month's pay for a day's shooting over such ground; some hares also were started, and one of them was vigorously pursued by a subaltern of a sporting turn, whose baggage pony, however, was soon left far in rear by puss's active bounds. by this time we were getting far on towards the russian lines and batteries, when the field began to spread out, some taking to the right, and getting very near to a cossack vedette, who seemed rather puzzled to account for the presence of so many strange horsemen within musket-shot of his post, and who, after beginning to circle once or twice in signal of an enemy's approach, received a reinforcement in the shape of another cossack, who rode down the hill as if to warn the intruders off forbidden ground. another party of gallopers went close up to the battery known as no. , and held communion with some vedettes, with whom they smoked an amicable cigarette, until a russian officer came up and politely informed them in french that his orders were to allow no one to come any further, and that he hoped they would retire, which they of course did. more to the left a numerous body of horsemen, followed by a straggling array of zouaves, chasseurs, bersaglieri, and other infantry soldiers, who had made their way to the ground, rode up to the ridge just below the spur of the hill to the south of inkerman. here they were very near the russian pickets, and within particularly convenient shot of various batteries, had these thought proper to open, and there most of them paused, for to go further really looked like abusing the good-nature of the enemy, who had thus allowed us to profit by the conference to enjoy a ride further into the russian territory than any one has been since this camp was formed, and to take a near view of their positions and defences. only half a dozen adventurous and inquisitive spirits pushed ahead, and seemed as if they intended charging a russian battery, and the vedettes in this direction began to move uneasily about also, when up came a sardinian staff officer at full speed, his blue plume streaming in the wind, and gave chase to the forward gentlemen, shouting to them to return. they, seeing themselves thus cut off in the rear, and perhaps to avoid a rebuke, made a retrograde flank movement, escaped their pursuer, and rejoined the main body; and, as orders were then given that no one should go further, a return towards the bridge became pretty general. on reaching the bridge a halt was again called round the group of cossacks, and all eyes were fixed upon the two neat blue and white-striped tents, with awnings over their entrances. some of the generals were standing outside, and it was evident that the conference was drawing to a close. a short delay ensued, which i perceived that the cossack corporal availed himself of to exchange his sardinian whip for a much better french one, the receiver of the former doubtless imagining he had secured a genuine russian article. then cocked hats and feathers were seen moving among the horses near the tents; orderlies and escorts mounted; the cossacks did the same, and presently english, french, sardinian, and russian generals and staff rode over the bridge and between a double line formed by the spectators. general timovoieff, a soldierly-looking man of agreeable physiognomy, rode first, and smilingly returned the salutes with which he was received. general windham was close beside him, a little in the rear. there was an escort of french chasseurs-à cheval and a small one of the th hussars, and the big horses and tall well-fed men of the latter strikingly contrasted with the puny, although hardy steeds, and with the meagre frames of the cossacks, who seemed to regard them with some wonderment, while the hussars glanced at them as if they thought that one squadron of theirs would have an easy bargain of half a dozen sotnias of such antagonists. the _cortége_ proceeded a short distance into the plain, and then the allied portion took leave of "_nos amis l'ennemi_" and retraced their steps to the bridge. they had passed over it, and the crowd of spectators was following, when they were met by a throng of officers from the english camp, coming down "to see the fun," which, unfortunately, was over. nevertheless, they were pressing forward across the bridge, and would, doubtless, had they been allowed, have ridden up to the bilboquet battery, or across to mackenzie's farm--for it is an axiom that nothing will stop an english infantry officer, mounted on his favourite baggager; but a french staff captain, seeing what was likely to ensue, ordered the sentries to allow no one to cross the bridge. as we rode up the ravine between the two mamelons, which witnessed such sharp fighting on the th of august, , we met scores more of english officers coming down, only to be turned back. at one on the afternoon of march th, the staff of the allied and russian armies again met at traktir bridge--on this occasion to sign the conditions of the armistice, which were finally agreed to, the russians having shown themselves tolerably pliant. the day was raw, dull, and disagreeable, with a sharp northerly breeze blowing, but nevertheless a considerable number of english, french, and sardinian officers found their way to the bridge, doubtless in hopes of a repetition of the canter of the th of february; but if that was the bait that lured them there they were completely disappointed. altogether, there was a good number of russian officers at or near traktir bridge. some of them were strolling by twos and threes in the field, at a short distance beyond, and when these were descried there was usually a regular charge down upon them by the allied officers, eager to make their acquaintance. their manner was generally grave and rather reserved, but they conversed readily, and all had the tone and appearance of well-bred men. some of them were very young. there was one youth of eighteen, who named to us the regiment of hussars in which he was an officer, and seemed knowing about horses, pointing out the english ones from among the french, italians, and arabs that stood around. all--cavalry as well as infantry, and the general and his staff--wore the long uniform greatcoat of a sort of brown and grey mixture, and seemed to have no other insignia of rank than the different colours and lace of the shoulder-strap. there was also a difference of fineness in the cloth of their coats from that of the soldiers, but this at a very short distance was not apparent. the staff wore white kid gloves, and i noticed some of them with smart patent leather boots--elegancies rarely seen in our part of the crimea. this time there was no scouring the plain and gossiping with vedettes; the aqueduct was the limit, observance of which was enforced by a chain of zouave sentries patrolling to and fro. a russian picket was stationed at about rifle-shot distance beyond the river, along the further bank of which cossack and dragoon vedettes were posted at short intervals. there was nothing else of any interest to observe, and most of the persons whom curiosity led to the spot soon grew tired of standing at the edge of a ditch, and gazing at a distant handful of muscovites; so they turned their horses, and tried to warm themselves by a canter back to the camp. [sidenote: ruins of sebastopol.] but so far as sebastopol was concerned there was little for the russians to gain by covering it with the thin cloak of an armistice. had fire been rained down from heaven upon the devoted city its annihilation could not have been more complete. the shells of princely mansions which remained on the french side of the town had been knocked to atoms by the russian batteries on the north side; the theatre was demolished, and the beautiful church of st. peter and st. paul laid in ruins by the same implacable foe; and they directed particular volleys of round shot and shell on a monument to one of their naval heroes, which stood conspicuously placed in front of a beautiful little kiosk in the midst of a garden, to which there was a fine approach from the place behind fort nicholas by a handsome flight of steps, now destroyed. on a quadrilateral pedestal of some pretensions, supporting entablatures with allegorical devices, and ornamented at the summit by a _puppis_, were inscribed, when first i saw it, the name of "kazarski," and the dates and , with an intimation that the monument was erected in his honour. most of the letters were stolen and knocked away; and had not the fire from the north ceased, the pedestal itself would have disappeared likewise. the french garrison, somewhat harassed by the incessant fire on the town, which, however, did them or us but little mischief, constructed out of the débris of the houses a very neat _quartier_ inside the walls. the huts of which it was composed consisted of wood, ranged in regular rows, with the usual street nomenclature in these parts of the world. the stranger who halted to survey it from the neighbouring heights, deceived by the whitewashed and plastered walls of the houses, might think that sebastopol was still a city; but when he walked through its grass-grown, deserted streets, formed by endless rows of walls alone, of roofless shells of houses, in which not one morsel of timber could be seen, from threshold to eaves; when he beheld great yawning craters, half filled with mounds of cut stone, heaped together in irregular masses; when he gazed on tumuli of disintegrated masonry, once formidable forts, and shaken, as it were, into dust and powder; when he stumbled over the fragments of imperial edifices, to peer down into the great gulfs, choked up with rubbish, which marked the site of the grand docks of the queen of the euxine; beheld the rotting masts and hulls of the sunken navy which had been nurtured there; when he observed that what the wrath of the enemy spared was fast crumbling away beneath the fire of its friends, and that the churches where they worshipped, the theatres, the public monuments, had been specially selected for the practice of the russian gunners, as though they were emulous of running a race in destruction with the allied armies--he would, no doubt, come to the conclusion that the history of the world afforded no such authentic instance of the annihilation of a great city. it is certainly hard to believe that the site can ever be made available for the erection of houses or the construction of docks; but i am by no means certain that the immense resources in the command of manual labour possessed by the government of russia, of which this very struggle afforded us all such striking proofs, in the quarantine battery, the bastion centrale, the bastion du mât, the redan, the mamelon, and the malakoff, may not be made available in time to clear away these modern ruins, and to rebuild houses, theatres, palaces, churches, forts, arsenals, and docks, as before. in the inkerman ravines are inexhaustible supplies of building material, which can be floated by the tchernaya into the waters of the harbour with very little trouble. the immense quantity of cut stone lying in piles at the upper end of the harbour showed that the allies interrupted the russians in the development of the splendid architectural plans which it was the ambition of emperors to accomplish, and which engaged every thought and energy of the muscovite governors of the crimea. [sidenote: the purchase system.] notwithstanding the very cold weather which prevailed, numbers of our officers and men descended to the tchernaya every day to communicate with the russians, to examine the new race-course, or to wade after the wild-fowl which abound in the marshes. there was nothing new in these interviews, except that the russians grew more cordial, or less sullen. the number of officers who came down to our side bore a very small proportion to that of the allied officers who attended these _réunions_. the men seemed never to tire of looking on each other. french, english, and sardinians swarmed down to the banks of the tchernaya, in spite of the cold and bitter winds, to confabulate with the ruskis, to exchange money with them, and to stare at their dogged, and, it must be added, rather dirty-looking enemies, who were not quite so eager or so active in their curiosity as the allied soldiery, and who needed the stimulus of turning a dishonest penny in the exchange of small coins to tempt them from grass cutting, and the pursuit of wild ducks and hares by the flats beneath mackenzie's farm to the banks of the stream. the men i saw on the warm th of september on the slopes of the alma seemed repeated and multiplied in every direction across the tchernaya. there was a wonderful family likeness among the common soldiers. the small round bullet-head, the straight light hair, high cheek-bones, grey keen eyes, rather deeply set beneath straight and slightly defined eye-brows, undemonstrative noses, with wide nostrils, large straight mouths, square jaws, and sharp chins, were common to the great majority of them. their frames seemed spare and strongly built; but neither in stature nor breadth of shoulder did they equal the men of our old army of . many of the officers could scarcely be distinguished from the men in air, bearing, or dress, except by the plain, ill-made, and slight swords, which they carried from an unornamented shoulder-belt; but now and then one met with a young fellow with the appearance of a gentleman, in spite of his coarse long coat; occasionally a great tall lumbering fellow, who seemed to be of a different race from the men around him, slouched along in his heavy boots. the clothing of the troops appeared to be good. their boots, into which they tucked their loose trousers, were easy and well-made, and the great-coats worn by the men fitted them better than our own fitted the english infantry. the colour, not so much a grey as a dunnish drab, is admirably suited not only to conceal the wearers in an open country, but to defy dust, mud, or rain to alter its appearance. it was but natural that the two armies should be interested in each other's condition. the better-informed russian officers were of course aware of the nature of our purchase system, but to most of them, that system was incomprehensible as novel. its anomalies were, however, so strongly felt that the debates in parliament which took place about this time on the subject were read with deep interest, and repeated and re-argued over and over again in camp. the friends of the system took it for granted that the arguments used against it must emanate from men of democratical and unconstitutional tendencies, and from enemies to the army and to the aristocracy, and captain figgs or colonel cottontwist were as fierce in their denunciations of lord goderich, sir de lacy evans, and even lord palmerston, because he made some theoretical admissions against the system, as lord plantagenet or the earl of saxo-grammaticus. they protested loudly that the object of these innovators was to drive "gentlemen" out of the army; while their opponents declared that the effect of the system was to keep "gentlemen"--those fiery cadets of old families who in other times were the true soldiers of fortune, the descendants of the gentry cavaliers--_out_ of the army. if the ex-sergeant jones, holding a commission in one of our corps or regiments, was noisy in his cups and over-elated with his good fortune, his peccadilloes were the subject of rejoicings, and were regarded as sufficiently conclusive evidence that we could not open our commissions to the rank and file; and if he happened to be brought to a court-martial and reprimanded or cashiered, the demonstration was complete. at the time i wrote, "it must be admitted that the training of our barrack-rooms is not favourable to the acquirement of decent manners and gentlemanlike demeanour, and that until we elevate the profession of arms in england, and remove the stigma popularly impressed from the rank of a private soldier, we cannot expect to induce the needy members of the more respectable classes in society to enter as volunteers; and the high rate of rewards for skill in all mechanical and industrial arts will ever offer an obstacle to the efforts of the recruiting sergeant to enlist a better sort of recruits so long as the present scale of pay and ration stoppages is maintained. the advocates for the abolition of purchase are impressed by the force of such objections as are presented by the general constitution of our army; but, after all, what the country keeps up its army for is, not that it may consult the wishes or the tastes of any class whatever, however numerous, powerful, and wealthy, but that the army may fight its battles, and maintain its liberties and its glory against all comers. pompey's dandies were, no doubt, greatly displeased at being slashed in the face by caesar's rough legionaries, and thought them very low fellows; nor had rupert's cavaliers any great opinion of the good breeding or _politesse_ of old noll's ironsides; but the camp has never been regarded as any special school for demeanour or the inculcation of etiquette, however favourable it may be to the development of some of the nobler qualities of humanity; and if we really can procure brave, intelligent, zealous, and deserving officers by some enlargement of the limits which have hitherto circumscribed our choice, we must submit to the inconvenience, though they may have a smack of the barrack-room about them. it must be recollected that our boasted mess system utterly breaks down in active campaigning, and that, in the field, the officers live separately or in very small groups, so it is only in times of _peace_ that those whom providence _finxit meliore luto_ will be obliged to come in contact with the commissioned _grossier_, who will, after all, always represent a very small minority. it is forgotten by the friends of the system of "rank for money," that there has as yet been no officer from the ranks whose conduct before the enemy has been the subject of unfavourable notice, and that not one of them has been obliged to leave the service for refusal to perform his duty in the trenches; nor has it always been officers from the ranks who have been subjected to courts-martial, by the sentences of which they were forced from the army. in fact, many of those who take this side of the question are arguing, not for aristocracy, but for aurocracy; they are sacrificing to plutus when they think they are worshipping mars, and they confound the two questions--in themselves entirely distinct, but so mingled in camp dialogue as to be inseparable--of the purchase system with that of promotion from the ranks. there are such difficulties in the way of an abolition of the former system, that its most intrepid advocate may well pause before he _suddenly_ demolishes it, and the devotion, the courage, and the endurance of the british officer of the army, and the respect of the men for him, are very weighty considerations in the way of the theoretical reformer. "but if it have its advantages, the system has also its great, its crying evils, of which every mouth is full, and which are only met by the remark that there are evils in every system. look at the case of lieutenant-colonel cuddy, of the th. at the battle of inkerman, he, as senior captain, took the command of his regiment, when his senior officers were either killed or wounded. throughout the whole of that terrible winter he served in the trenches, kept his handful of men together, and in all respects proved himself as careful as he was brave, and as prudent as he was zealous. although lieutenant-colonel in the army, he was only captain in his regiment, and after having gone through the winter of and the spring of , with all their hardships and conflicts, when the regimental majority was for purchase, owing to the retirement of the gallant major coats (whom i saw so badly hit at the alma, that i thought he could scarce recover), colonel cuddy had the mortification of seeing captain cure, who was seven years his junior in the list of captains, and who had served at home with the depôt during the beginning of the campaign, pass over his head by purchase, and take the command of the regiment out of his hands. and can the country now heal the wound in that proud spirit? no; poor cuddy fell at the redan, and his cares and his sorrows are over for ever. [sidenote: proclamation of peace.] "cases somewhat similar are not wanting in other regiments. right or wrong, had this war gone on, the purchase system was doomed. general orders were crowded with notices that captain so-and-so, having done the duty of field officer, that lieutenant such-a-one, having acted as captain, and that sergeant-major nobody, having acted as quartermaster of his regiment from such a date, would draw pay and allowances accordingly. war pushed our system horribly out of shape, and gave its delicate frame such squeezes, and deranged it so terribly, that its dearest friends scarcely knew it when we carried it home. some of the young and intelligent officers on the staff did not hesitate to express a hearty wish for the abolition of the system. to the french it was utterly incomprehensible, and it is a fixed idea in the mind of private jean françois marie that general codrington paid enormous sums for the honour of commanding the army--otherwise he cannot understand it." chapter vi. proclamation of peace--preparations for the evacuation--review of the struggle--what might have been done--russian song on the incidents of the war--excursions into the interior of the crimea--defences on the north side of sebastopol--resources of the country--tour in the interior--crimean flora--a real obstacle--useful public works executed by the party--various adventures--return to camp. at two o'clock p.m. on wednesday, the nd of april, proclamation of peace was made to the allied armies by salutes of guns, fired by the field batteries of the light and second divisions, from the heights over the plain of balaklava; by the french batteries at the quartier générale; by the sardinian redoubts at fedukhine; and by the men-of-war at kamiesch and kazatch; but an early general order and a very widely-spread rumour had diffused the intelligence among officers and men long before the cannon exultingly announced it by their thundering voices. the news was known at balaklava by eight o'clock a.m., and the _leander_, captain rice, bearing the flag of admiral fremantle, "dressed," and the merchant shipping followed her example, by order, so that the harbour presented a gayer scene than human eye ever witnessed since it was first discovered by some most investigating, shore-hugging, and fissure-pursuing navigator. it was a fine day--at least it appeared so by contrast with its recent predecessors,--and the effect of the firing from so many points, all of which were visible from the heights of the plateau near the woronzoff road, was very fine. the enemy saw the smoke and heard the roar of our guns, but they maintained a stern and gloomy silence. one would have thought that they, above all, would have shown some signs of satisfaction at the peace which they sought, and which they had made such sacrifices to obtain, while no one would have wondered if the batteries of the english and sardinians expressed no opinion on the subject. however, there was not a russian shot fired or flag hoisted from fort constantine to mackenzie, nor, although we had ceased to be enemies, did any increase in our intimacy take place. the preparations for the evacuation of the crimea were now pressed on with rapidity and energy. each division collected about , shot a-day from the iron-studded ravines and grounds in front of our camp, and they were carried to balaklava as fast as the means at our disposal--railway and land transport--permitted. our soldiers were about to leave the scene of their sufferings and of their glory. alas! how many of those who landed lie there till the judgment-day! who can tell how many lives were wasted which ought to have been saved to the country, to friends, to an honoured old age? these questions may never be answered, least of all were they answered at chelsea hospital. heaven lets loose all its plagues on those who delight in war, and on those who shed men's blood, even in the holiest causes. the pestilence by day and night, deadly fever, cholera, dysentery, strategical errors, incompetence and apathy of chieftains, culpable inactivity, fatal audacity--all these follow in the train of armies, and kill more than bullet or sword. but war has its rules. the bloody profession by the skilful exercise of which liberty is achieved or crushed--by which states are saved or annihilated, has certain fixed principles for its guidance; and the homoeopathic practitioner in the art, the quack, the charlatan, or the noble amateur, will soon be detected and overwhelmed in the horrors of defeat and ruin. perhaps on no occasion was the neglect of the course of regular practice so severely punished, even although in the end the object was gained, as in the siege of sebastopol. [sidenote: retrospect.] every statement made by the russian officers in conversation with us concurred in this--that we might have taken sebastopol in september, ; that they were not only prepared to abandon the city to its fate, but that they regarded it as untenable and incapable of defence, and had some doubts of their position in the crimea itself, till our inaction gave menschikoff courage, and raised in him hopes of an honourable defence, which might enable him to hold us in check, or to expose us to the attack of overwhelming masses. they admitted that their great error was the assumption of a simply defensive attitude after the battle of inkerman, and they felt that they ought to have renewed the attack upon our enfeebled army, notwithstanding the terrible loss they suffered in that memorable action. it might have been mere military fanfaronade on their part to put forward such an assertion, but the russians one and all declared they could have retaken the malakoff under the fire of their ships, but it had been clearly demonstrated since the fire opened on september the th, that it would be impossible to hold the south side under the increasing weight and proximity of the bombardment. "it was a veritable butchery, which demoralized our men so far as to make them doubt the chances of continuing the struggle. we lost , a-day. no part of the city was safe, except the actual bombproofs in the batteries. we were content to have beaten the english at the redan, to have repulsed the french at the bastion of careening bay (the little redan), the gervais battery, and the bastion centrale and to leave them the credit of surprising the malakoff; but, even had we held it, we must soon have retired to the north side, and we had been preparing for that contingency for some days." the battle of the alma had produced such an effect that there seemed to be no chance of offering resistance to the allies, and the fall of sebastopol was regarded as certain. the russians, however, meditated a great revenge, and, knowing the weakness of our army, and that it could not hold the heights and storm the town at the same time, they intended to take the very plateau on which we were encamped, to fall on our troops while we were disorganized by our success, and get them between the fire of the russian shipping, of the northern forts, and of the field artillery outside the place. at first they could not understand the flank march to balaklava, except as a manoeuvre to escape the fire of the north forts, and to get at the weak side of the city, and for three or four days they waited, uncertain what to do, until they learned we were preparing for a siege. it was then--that is, about five days after we appeared before the place--that they commenced the work. men, women, and children laboured at them with zeal, and for the first time a hope was entertained of saving sebastopol, or of maintaining the defence till the _corps d'armée_ destined for its relief could march down to raise the siege. it was the first instance on record of such a place having been taken by the mere fire of artillery; for it was admitted by the russians that even if the assault on the malakoff had been repelled, they must have abandoned a position exposed at every nook and chink and cranny to such a fire that the very heavens seemed to rain shot and shell upon them. we lost an army in establishing that fire, and we did not (notwithstanding the honeyed words of lord palmerston, every soldier of the crimea feels what i say is the truth)--we did not add to our reputation--nay, we did not sustain it--in the attacks of the th of june and the th of september. and will it be said that _because_ the particulars of those conflicts have been made known to the world, and _because_ the daring, the devotion, the gallantry, the heroism of our officers and men have been displayed before its eyes, that the english nation has lost its military _prestige_? would it have been possible to have concealed and slurred over our failures? would it have been better to have let the story be told in russian despatches, in french _moniteurs_, in english _gazettes_! no; the very dead on cathcart's hill would be wronged as they lay mute in their bloody shrouds, and calumny and falsehood would insult that warrior race, which is not less roman because it has known a trebia and a thrasymene. we all felt well assured that it was no fault of our officers that we did not take the redan. we could point to the trenches piled deep with our gallant allies before the careening bay and the central bastion, and turn to the malakoff, won without the loss of men, and then invoke the goddess fortune! alas! she does not always favour the daring; she leaves them sometimes lifeless at the blood-stained embrasure, before the shattered traverse, in the deadly ditch and she demands, as hostages for the bestowal of her favours, skill and prudence, as well as audacity and courage. there was a song on the incidents of the war very popular in the russian camp, in which prince menschikoff was exposed to some ridicule, and the allies to severe sarcasm. menschikoff was described as looking out of the window of a house in bakshiserai, and inquiring for news from sebastopol; courier after courier arrives and says, "oh! sebastopol is safe."--"and what are the allies doing? "--"oh! they are breaking down the houses of balaklava and eating grapes." the same news for a day or two. at last a courier tell him the allies are cutting twigs in the valleys, and that they are digging great furrows three-quarters of a mile from the place. "i declare they are going to besiege it," says he; "and, if so, i must defend it." and so he sends for his engineers. they at first think the allies, misled by ancient traditions about the mines, must be digging for gold; but at last they make a reconnaissance, and, finding that the allies are really making approaches, they say, "why, we shall have time to throw up works, too;" and so they draw up their plans, and todleben says, "give me five days, and i'll mount three guns for their two;" and menschikoff dances and sings, "ha, ha! _i've_ saved sebastopol!" the russians were astonished at their own success; above all, they were surprised at the supineness and want of vigilance among the allies. they told stories of stealing upon our sentries and carrying them off, and of rushing at night into our trenches, and finding the men asleep in their blankets; they recounted with great glee the capture of a sergeant and five men in daylight, all sound in slumber (poor wretches, ill-fed, ill-clad, and worked beyond the endurance of human nature!) in one of the ravines towards inkerman. [sidenote: after the war.] among many stories of the kind which i heard, one is remarkable. when the attack on inkerman was projected, it was arranged that one strong column, having crossed the bridge of the tchernaya, near the head of the harbour, should march along the road which winds up _above_ the quarries ravine, and which leads right upon the ground then occupied by evans's division; but this was conceived to be the most daring part of the enterprise, "as no doubt, strong pickets would be posted on that road, and guns commanding the bridge, or raking the road, would be placed behind the scarps, and these guns would have to be taken, and the pickets and their supports driven in. judge of our astonishment when we found no scarps at all, and not a single gun on this point! our general cried, as he gained the level of the plateau without a shot being fired, 'we have them--sebastopol is saved!' the bridge over the tchernaya was not repaired for the passage of men and guns till past five o'clock in the morning of the th, and the men did not begin till after dark on the preceding evening." but, after all, we were probably saved from severer trials by our own want of enterprise. when the conflict before sebastopol assumed such gigantic proportions it became _the_ war itself. the armies of russia were absorbed into it, and perished in detail. had we taken sebastopol at the outset, we must have been prepared, with our small armies, to meet those _corps d'armée_ which lost tens of thousands in their hasty march to relieve the place, but who, in the event of its capture, would have closed slowly round us, and the same incapacity which prevented our reaping the fruits of our _coup-de-main_ in attempting the crimean expedition, might have led to more serious evils in a protracted campaign in the open field against a numerous and well handled, if not a daring, enemy. success was indeed obtained, but its cost had been great. what shall be said if much of that cost can be shown to have been a gratuitous outlay of time and money? to me, next to the graveyards, verdant oases in the dark plateau, the most melancholy and significant object was our old parallel opened against the malakoff, which the french took from us as the basis of their attack in the spring of . one man who came into balaklava after the peace was observed to be very anxiously peering about the walls of a new store. on being asked what he was about, he confessed he was searching for the site of his house, in the cellar of which he had deposited a good deal of plate and valuables. i fear he had but a flemish account of them. the russian military band ( strong) at mackenzie was a great object of attraction. it played at four o'clock every afternoon. at the hymn of "god preserve the czar," or whatever the exact translation of the title may be, all the russians took off their caps. i could have wished that our officers who were present, and who understood the occasion, had done the same, for immediately afterwards, when the band played "god save the queen," the russians uncovered their heads, and paid to our national anthem the same mark of respect as they had paid to their own. a russian officer--a very young man--covered with orders, was pointed out to some of the officers as one who had _never left_ the flagstaff bastion for eleven months. he had been shot through the body, and had been wounded in the head, in the arm, and in the thigh, on different occasions; he had insisted on remaining in the bastion, nor would he permit himself to be removed to hospital. many of the soldiers wore the cross of st. george and other orders. what a phenomenon would a british private be with the riband of the c.b. on his breast! the russians were very anxious to get some of our medals, and there were some stories afloat concerning the cleverness with which men sold florins at high prices for sebastopol medals. some officers soon penetrated to bakshiserai, and returned with alarming accounts of the price of eatables, drinkables, and accommodation--porter twenty francs a bottle, champagne thirty-five francs a bottle, dinner and bed a small fortune. there were some very hospitable fellows among the russian officers, and they gave and took invitations to lunch, dinner, and supper very freely. one of our generals[ ] up at mackenzie, was asked to stay to tea by a russian officer, whose hut he was visiting, but madame, who presided at the tea-table, darted such a look at her peccant spouse when he gave the invitation, and glared so fiercely at the heretical englishmen, that our general and staff turned tail and bolted, leaving the ruski to the enjoyment of the lecture which madame caudelska would no doubt inflict upon him. perhaps the poor lady was short of spoons, or trembled for her stock of sugar. as there was nothing doing in camp i proceeded on a week's excursion to simpheropol, the tchatir dagh, bakshiserai, orianda, yalta, and by aloupka. the russians sent passes to head-quarters, with one of which i was furnished. it was as follows: "carte de passe pour les avant postes" (in print), "general de service tchervinsky;" then in russian ms., "allowed to pass--general major." before i left i went over the north forts, and carefully examined the defences of the place. fort constantine bore very few marks of the bombardment and cannonade of the th of october, . the crown of the arch of one embrasure was injured, and supported by wood, and the stone-work was pitted here and there with shot; but the "pits" had been neatly filled in and plastered over. fort catherine, or nachimoff (formerly suwaroff), was uninjured, but st. michael's, which was badly built, suffered from the french mortar fire after we got into the town. the citadel was covered on all sides by earthworks, and the hill-sides furrowed up by lines of batteries bearing on every landing-place and every approach. in line from fort constantine to the quarantine and alexander forts were sunk, before the th of october, three eighty-fours, then one hundred-and-twenty, then two eighty-fours, and then one fifty-four. inside this line was a strong boom, which would have brought up any vessels that had succeeded in bursting through the sunken ships. this outer line and the boom itself were so much damaged, however, by the gale of the th of november as to be of little use. the second boom, consisting of chain cables floated by timber, extended from fort nicholas on the south to the west of st. michael's fort on the north. inside this boom were sunk, commencing from the north side, a sixty-gun ship, an eighty-four, a one-hundred-and-twenty, an eighty-four, and a sixty-gun frigate. then came the bridge of boats from fort nicholas to st. michael's. inside that, in two lines, lay the rest of the russian fleet. the first was formed of three eighty-fours, a one-hundred-and-twenty, and one hundred-and-ten-gun line-of-battle ship; the second consisted of a seven-gun steamer, a six-gun ditto, a thirteen-gun ditto, and an eighty-four, close to the ruins of fort paul. nearer to inkerman, in the creeks and bays on the north side, were sunken steamers, five brigs of war and corvettes, and a schooner yacht sunk or aground. the boats of the men-of-war were safe in one of the creeks which our guns could not reach. [sidenote: high prices in the crimea.] the russians shouted at us lustily as we were engaged in examining the timbers. although the teredo had not attacked the wood, it was covered with barnacles and slime, and from what we saw of the ships, it did not seem likely they would ever be raised as men-of-war again. the famous "_twelve apostles_" the "_three godheads_" the "_tchesme_" the "_wratislaw_" and the "_empress maria_" were unseaworthy before they were sunk, and the only ship for which the russians expressed any sorrow was the "_grand duke constantine_," one-hundred-and-twenty, the finest ship in their navy. she seemed quite content with her berth on the bottom, and it will be some time before a timber of her floats again. the impression left upon the mind of every person who made the little tour round the coast was that the resources of russia in men were reduced to a low ebb in the course of this war, and that she would have been utterly unable to maintain an army in the crimea, or to continue in possession of it, had we made an aggressive movement with all our forces from theodosia or eupatoria, or even left her in an attitude of watchfulness along the extended line from the north side of sebastopol to simpheropol. that she possessed considerable means of transport, and had arabas, telegas, and horses sufficient, in ordinary times and on good roads, for the service of her army, was evident enough; but i was assured, on authority beyond question, that for two whole days in the winter the troops at mackenzie were left without food, in consequence of the state of the roads. the prices of provisions, allowing very amply for the extortions of needy tartars, of famished innkeepers, and for an extremely liberal spirit on the part of english tourists, were enormous, and it was almost impossible in many places to procure barley or corn for horses at any sum whatever. the country was deserted, the fields uncultivated, agriculture unheeded. a few flocks of sheep and herds of cattle were to be seen here and there in the course of a week's ride, but these were the property of the government or of contractors, and were not for sale; along the south coast fresh meat was unknown, and salt fish and salt pork were the food of those in good circumstances. a mouthful of hay for a horse cost half a rouble or fifty copecs--eggs were _d._ a-piece--fowls utterly beyond the means of croesus. but amid all these evidences of desolation, the cossack was seen here, there, everywhere--singly--in twos and threes--in pickets--in patrols--in grand guards--in polks--trotting, walking, or galloping, mounted high on his quaint saddle over his shaggy, long-tailed pony, flourishing with one hand his cruel whip, while with the other he guided the docile animal, above which he towered like a giant, his dirty grey coat fluttering in the breeze and his lance-point shining brightly in the sun. he was sown broadcast all over the crimea. but you did not see regular soldiers in any numbers till you entered the typhus-haunted streets of simpheropol, or waded through the mud of bakshiserai; and even here the miserable, jaded, utterly spiritless, ill-clad, ill-fed, and broken-down militiamen were in the proportion of two to one to the soldiers of the line. in order to judge of the state of the country, i shall transcribe from my diary during the tour such portions of it as appear likely to afford information respecting the effects of the war, or give an insight into the condition of the crimea. some other portions, referring to matters of less importance, may, however, prove amusing, if not instructive, more from the novelty of the circumstances to which they relate than from any merit of narration or powers of description. [sidenote: valley of baidar.] "_april th._--started at ten o'clock from camp. the party consisted of four officers, two civilians--one of them myself, the other a travelling gentleman--an interpreter, two soldier servants, and one civilian servant. we took with us a strong two-wheeled light cart, drawn by two mules and a pack-pony, and carried in the cart a canteen, a few bottles of spirits and sherry, cases of preserved beef, two tents, fowling-pieces, a fishing-rod, picks and spades, blankets and horse-cloths. the cart was started early, with orders to halt at baidar till we arrived, and the party were trotting along the woronzoff road towards kamara by eleven o'clock. the day was most favourable--a clear sky, genial sun, and light southerly wind. i met the th hussars (french) on their march in from their cantonments about baidar, where they have been long exposed to most trying work on outpost duty, and in the ordinary occupation of light cavalry in war time. they were fine soldierly fellows, and were 'quite ready as they sat to ride either to the great wall of china or st. petersburg.' each man carried a portion of the cooking utensils of his mess, forage for his horse, blankets, and necessaries for the march, and seemed heavily charged, but on examination he would be found to weigh a couple of stone less than an english hussar--otherwise, indeed, his small horse, however high-tempered, could not carry him. the sardinians were also on the move, and sending in baggage to balaklava. the large village of sheds and sutlers' shops on the road at the fedukhine heights, which was called 'woronzoff,' was in considerable excitement at the prospect of losing its customers, notwithstanding that the russians flocked in to supply their place. the french camp here is built like that of their neighbours the sardinians, very much on the tartar or russian plan, and the huts are semi-subterranean. they present in appearance a strong contrast to the regular rows of high wooden huts belonging to the highland division opposite, at kamara, but the money saved to france and sardinia by the ingenuity and exertions of their soldiers in hutting themselves must have been very considerable in amount. to counteract the _mesquin_ look of these huts, our allies--more especially the french--planted the ground with young firs and evergreens, brought a considerable distance from the hill-sides of baidar, so that, after all, their camp is more pleasant to look at than that of the english. they have also made gardens, which promise to bear fruit, flowers, and vegetables for tartars and muscovites, and they have turned a large portion of ground by the banks of the tchernaya, and close to the traktir bridge, into a succession of gardens, each appropriated to different companies of the regiments encamped in the neighbourhood. _sic vos non vobis._ "as we entered the gorge which leads into the valley of varnutka we met some tartar families, men and children, on the road, looking out possibly for some place to squat on. these poor creatures are menaced with a forced return to their nomadic habits of centuries ago. civilization has corrupted them. the youngsters run alongside your horse, crying out, if you are english, 'i say, johnny, piaster! give me piaster, johnny!' if you are french, 'doe dong (intended for _dites donc_), donnez moi piaster'--when young, a bright-eyed, handsome race, with fine teeth and clear complexions; and when old, venerable-looking, owing to their marked features and long beards, but in manhood sly, avaricious, shy, and suspicious. the russians give bad accounts of them, and say they are not to be trusted, that they are revengeful and ill-disposed--the slave-owner's account of his nigger. most of the fruit-trees in the pretty valley of miskomia and varnutka have been cut down for fuel. crossing the ridge which separates this valley from that of baidar, we pass the gutted and half-ruined chateau _dit_ 'peroffsky.' for a long time this charming little villa supplied french and english cavalry outposts with delicious, wine from its cellars, and was spared from ruin; but bit by bit things were taken away, and at last a general spoliation of all the place contained was made--the furniture was smashed to atoms, the doors broken, the windows carried away. one officer attached to the light cavalry regiment quartered there took away a handsome china service, and most of these dangerous visitors brought off some memento of their visits. the tartars were rather rejoiced at the ruin of the place, for count peroffsky was no favourite with them, but they always express the greatest regard and affection for prince woronzoff. baidar itself--a middling tartar hamlet at the best of times--looks worse than ever now; garance dyed breeches were hanging out of the window-holes on all sides, and outside one very shaky, tumble-down wattle-house, there was a board declaring that there was good eating and drinking in the 'café pelissier.' the village has one advantage, of which no tartar village is ever destitute--a stream of clear water flows through it, and there are two or three fine springs close at hand. the people are miserable; the men are employed by the french as woodcutters and as drivers of arabas, but the money they receive is not sufficient to procure them full supplies of food or proper clothing. "from baidar the road ascends by the mountain ridges to the foross or phoros pass, and affords many delightful views of the great valley of baidar, which is, as it were, a vast wooded basin, surrounded by mountain and hill ranges covered with trees, and sweeping right round it. blackbirds, thrushes, nightingales, large gaudy jays, wood-pigeons, doves, rock-pigeons, hawks, falcons, and great numbers of magpies, frequent the valley, and those which have good voices make it right musical towards sunset. nightingales are very numerous, and so are varieties of flycatchers, titmice, and buntings. in winter, the hills are full of woodcock, the springs are haunted by snipe, wild duck, widgeon, and teal; and the woods give shelter not only to roe-deer, but, if certain reports promulgated this winter are to be believed, to wolves and bears. the road to phoros is not good, and in winter must have been of little use. the summit of the pass at phoros is surmounted by a stone arch which crosses the road at a place guarded by walls of rock, hundreds of feet in height. there is a french guard here, and, of course, we had to exhibit our passes. that was but a little matter, but on entering the archway we found it was fortified after the first rules of art: there were traverses and parapets of great height and thickness, and at the other side of the arch were similar obstacles. the mules were taken out of the cart; then it was unloaded, and the things carried one by one to the other side of these entrenchments; then the wheels were taken off, and by the united strength of our whole party, aided by some good-natured french soldiers, the cart itself was lifted up bodily and carried across all the gabions, earthworks, and traverses, and landed with a cheer on the narrow road at the other side of the pass. [sidenote: public works--phoros pass.] "the scene which bursts upon the eye on emerging from the arch is one of the finest i have ever witnessed--indeed, i am not sure that it is not the most beautiful and grand that can be seen anywhere. you find yourself standing in a very narrow road, on the left hand of which a sheer slab of rock rises to the height of or feet above--its surface rent with fissures, here and there dotted by stunted firs, which cling like weeds to its surface, diversified with all the tints for which volcanic rocks are remarkable. at the base of this cliff, which stretches further than the sight can trace it, there is a ragged fringe of mighty boulders, of fragments of mountains tossed down in the wildest confusion amid the straggling brushwood. on your right, nearly , feet below, is the sea, washing the narrow selvage of land which, covered with thick groves and dotted with rocks, tumbles down beneath your feet in waves of verdure, so rapidly that the dark blue waters, which are really nearly a mile distant, seem to be only a few hundred yards from the road. this narrow shelving strip of land, which lies beneath the cliff and descends to the sea, formed of the débris of the mountain-chain above it, extends along the coast from phoros to demur kapu, or the iron gate, widening as it runs eastward, and losing its distinctive character completely ere it reaches aloushta, in consequence of the great wall of cliff on the left hand receding rapidly inland and northwards from the point opposite yalta. the length of this strip is thirty miles. it is nearly a mile broad at phoros, and thence it gradually expands, till at aloupka it attains a breadth of three miles from the sea to the base of the cliff, and at yalta is five miles. the road winds for many miles along the foot of these stupendous crags, but there is a lower road, reached by zig-zags, which leads to the villas situated in the lovely valleys by the coast. this strip of shelving land is of the most varied formation. it is tossed about into hill and dale, and is seamed with shady ravines and deep woody dells, which are watercourses in winter. as it is quite sheltered by the cliff from northerly winds, and is exposed to the full power of the sun, the climate here is beautifully mild until the heats of summer begin, and the land produces in great perfection an astonishing variety of vegetable productions. "the crimea has a flora of its own, but the lady is dressed so quaintly, uses such strange language, and is called so many hard, long names, that in my ignorance i am afraid to approach her, or to do anything more than to praise her general effect and appearance at a distance. but here indeed is a horrid reality to talk about. some half-mile from phoros, the road runs through a solid rock by means of a tunnel about thirty yards long. i happened to be riding in advance, and saw that this tunnel was blocked up by a wall seven feet in height and eight feet in thickness. all passage for the cart seemed hopeless. we never could lift it up so high. there was no getting round the rock, and so i smote my breast and returned to the party. but there were two or three among us not easily to be deterred from their purpose. an examination was made; a council of war was held; and it was decided that over the wall we must go, and that the obstacle intended to prevent the march of cossack cavalry and the carriage of mountain guns, was not to impede six british tourists. under the direction of our acting engineer, to work we went. the party got on the wall, and proceeded to dislodge the stones on both sides with regularity and precision, rolling them down so as to form a kind of solid arch out of the centre of the wall. shins were cut, toes were smashed, spurs were bent, but the work went on, and at the end of three-quarters of an hour the way was declared to be practicable. the mules were taken out of the cart, and walked by a footpath round the rock; the heavy articles were unloaded, and then, with main strength, the cart was spoked up to the top of the mound of rocks and stones, after a desperate struggle, and then, with immense difficulty, was backed down to the road on the other side. maybe the old tunnel did not re-echo three tremendous cheers when the work was over, and the mules emerged with their triumphant chariot! but our troubles were not half over. the french were uneasy at phoros--they had scarped the road, and what they had spared, two winters of neglect had very nearly demolished. before we moved six miles we executed, in addition to these labours, the following great public works, in order to get our cart over: no. . built a wall to bank up the roadside at a precipice; no. . filled up a crevice with brushwood and loose stone; no. . made the road practicable with fascines; no. . cut away hill-side, so as to widen the road by the side of a precipice where it had given way; no. . unloaded cart and spoked it over a bad bit, and loaded it again. "it is about twenty-two miles from the camp to phoros pass, and our halting-place for the night is the ruined chateau of isarkaia, which is about six miles from phoros. we reached this secluded spot about seven o'clock in the evening. the walls and roof alone are left. the windows are smashed in, woodwork and all, and the only thing untouched in the place is a mangle in the kitchen. we stable our horses in the parlours and library, for all i know to the contrary, unpack the cart, and carry in saddles and bedding to the room designed for dining and sleeping. there are no boarded rooms, but the clay floor is soft, a fountain and a stream of water run hard by. the horses are groomed and supplied with hay and corn, and we prepare for dinner. a horrid announcement is made--'the major has forgot to bring either kettle, gridiron, or saucepan! the tea and the sugar have got mixed! but that is no consequence.' what is to be done? ingenious engineer suggests that my tinned iron dish shall be used as a frying-pan; carried _nem. con._ as to saucepan, some ingenious person drives two holes in a potted beef tin case, thrusts a piece of wood through them as handle, and proceeds to make soup therein over a blazing fire lighted up in one of the ruined fireplaces of the drawing-room. just as soup is ready, handle burns through, and soup upsets into the fire, a disaster quite irretrievable, and so we proceed to devour tough ration-beef done in steaks on the tin dish. sherry is forthcoming, bread, and preserved vegetables. water is boiled in a small teapot, and produces enough for a temperate glass of grog; the blankets are spread on the floor, and preparations are made for sleep. first, however, the watch is appointed. each man takes an hour in the alphabetical order of his name, from eleven to five o'clock, to watch the horses, to keep in the fire, and to guard against theft. the mangle is broken up for firewood. in doing so, the best made london axe, bought from an eminent saddler, flies in two at the first chop!--useful article for travelling! odd legs of chairs and tables, bits of drawers, and dressers, and cupboards, are piled up for the same purpose, and our first watch is left on his post. we muster three double-barrelled guns and four revolvers between us, a total of thirty shots; the night passes quietly. [sidenote: toils by the way.] "below the walls of the house in which we encamped, buried amid orchards and vineyards, is a ruined villa with marble fountains and handsome rooms. it is pillaged and wrecked like the rest, but it tempts our party to plunge down through the brushwood and thick scrubby woods, interlaced with 'christ's thorn' and long creepers, to the ledge on which it stands above the sea. the silence, broken only by the cry of the eagles which soar about the cliffs, the surge of the wave on the rocks, and the voices of the birds in the groves, is rather a source of pain than of pleasure. '_malheur à la dévastation_' is inscribed on the walls. but who were the devastators? the russians allege it was the allies--the tartars declare it was the russians themselves. there are many who believe that these very tartars had no small share in the plundering and wrecking of their taskmasters' and conquerors' summer palaces. we know from experience that on the march to sebastopol, every village, every little villa and farmhouse, was sacked and destroyed by the enemy, and bourliouk, eskel, mamashai, belbek, &c., were in ruins before our outposts reached them. the evidence so far is against the russians. as the walls and roofs of these houses are untouched, they look as picturesque and pretty from a distance as ever they did, and it is only on nearer approach that traces of the hand of the spoiler become visible. "we had a very excellent breakfast, notwithstanding the extraordinary rich flavour of onions in the tea, which was accounted for by the circumstance that the water had been boiled in the soup-kettle. some officers of the guards who had followed us, and bivouacked near the post-house which we had passed on the road, came in as we were at 'our humble meal,' and relished their share of it exceedingly. their cart pushed on in advance of ours, and as they profited by our labours of yesterday, so did we in a smaller degree (our cart was larger than theirs) reap the advantage of their preceding us part of the way to-day. we started about eleven o'clock, and our hard work soon commenced. between the enemy, the french, and the winter, the road scarcely existed; it had been swept down into the ravine. however, our motto was '_vestigia nulla retrorsum_,' and the colonel, the major, the captain, the d.a.c.g., the civilians, and the soldiers, worked as if for their lives and succeeded, in the course of the day, in executing the following useful public works: no. . road blocked up by rocks from mountain--cut down trees, made levers, and cleared the way--major's leg nearly broken, every one dirtied with wheel grease, finger-nails broken, hands cut, &c. no. . road repaired by guards (who left us a bit of paper on a stick to commemorate the fact) was found too narrow, the hill-side was dug-out, stones laid, and road extended. no. . landslip--edge of the road gone. we built up a wall of stones to support the edge, and passed over triumphantly. no. . were riding along at a smart pace down the road, which winds like a piece of tape (not red, but white) along the mountain side, when frantic cries from the next turn recalled us to our cart--found it had gone down over a gulley, shooting out beds and bundles some hundreds of feet below, and was lying right over in the mud of the aforesaid gulley atop of the wheel mule. no one hurt. took off wheels, cut fastenings, and unharnessed mule, which escaped without a hurt, but was covered with mud; raised cart, carried up beds, &c., out of ravine; unpacked cart and carried baggage across bad parts of landslip; set cart on wheels, loaded it, and went on our way rejoicing. "just after this accident we met general eyre and his staff, attended by a russian officer and several cossacks, on his way to phoros. the gallant general had been round to bakshiserai, simpheropol, and aloushta, and was just reversing our route, which our party had the honour of being the first to drag a cart over. the general had been assisted up to this point by a village full of tartars, who were caught by the russians, to get his cart over the bad places. no. . came upon the guards and their servants, who were busy mending the road where it was cut by a mountain water-course: aided them and ourselves; got over our cart first and preceded them on the road. no. . cut fascines and filled in a gap in the road. let it be understood, all this time, that there is the sea below us on the right, the quaint wall of cliffs, ft. or ft. high, on our left, and at times, as it were, toppling over on our heads, and a rugged slope of wood and vineyard dotted with villas between us and the beach. no. . having come up to a party of guardsmen who were bivouacking with some artillerymen on their way back to baidar, we were told that the road was utterly impassable; it had been carried away by a landslip. resolved to go on; soon afterwards repaired road, and proceeded cautiously through mud from the ice rills which had bored through and broken up the path in many places. [sidenote: simeis to aloupka.] "it was becoming late, and yet we had not got more than eight or nine miles from asarkaia; and aloupka, for which we were bound, was still as many miles ahead of us. the cliff at this part of the coast, which is somewhere between kikineis and limena, recedes further from the sea, and there is a considerable tract of hills from its base to the road. these hills are covered with brushwood, and our vedette in front reported to us that two round knobs, which, no doubt, served as heads to as many cossacks, were visible in advance, amid the young foliage. as we approached, the knobs disappeared, but presently two lance-points peered above the rocks at the turn of the road, and in another moment or two we were in the presence of three mounted cossacks of the don, who by signs demanded our passes in a very civil and agreeable manner. as none of them could read, this formality seemed useless, but they gave us to understand by signs that one of our party must go to the officer of the post, and the major and his interpreter were accordingly handed over to the care of an individual with one eye, and were out of sight very speedily. our cart was ordered back, and it was explained that we had to drag it over the slope of the hills on our left, as the road before us had actually gone over the cliffs. our friends were intelligent, good-looking young fellows, and while waiting for the major we spent some time rather agreeably with them in a mutual examination of arms and interchange of tobacco. they wore heavy curved swords, without guards to the handles, in large sheaths of wood covered with leather. their heads were covered with sheepskin caps, the top being formed of red cloth, and slightly conical in shape. their coats were like those of the infantry of the line--long garments of grey cloth, fastened by a strap at the back, and their trousers were tucked into their boots _more muscovitorum_. each man had a long carbine slung over his shoulder, and i was rather surprised to observe that they had percussion locks. this armament was completed by a long and very light lance. the edges of their swords were as sharp as razors--their lance-points were equally keen. their hair was closely cut, and they had the whiskerless cheek, the beardless chin, and the mustachioed lip of the "regulation." their horses were barely fourteen hands high, and were high in the bone and low in the flesh, but their speed and endurance are undeniable. the cossack rides high above his horse--he sits in the hollow of a saddle which looks like two pillars of black leather, at such a height that his heels are against the horse's flank, and when the animal trots, his rider's head is thrown forward over the shoulder, so that a right line let fall from his head would be in advance of his toes by some inches. the manes of the cossack horses are very long, and their tails often sweep the ground. we soon found they were very quick walkers, and got over the ground with rapidity and ease. "as the major did not return, we concluded, after a long stay, that he was on the road before us, and we resolved to urge the cart over the hill. the cossacks helped us in this (which was no easy matter) as soon as their comrade came back with an intimation, as we understood, which would be interpreted in english that 'it was all right.' the cart was once more unloaded, and its contents were dragged by us across the steep hill; then the cart was spoked up over the spongy ground, was loaded again, and the drivers were conducted to the road by the cossacks, while we were shown a shorter cut, and descended under escort of our amiable, but strongly scented friends, down through shady ravines to the tartar village of simeis. simeis, like all tartar villages, is built by the side of a brook, which brawls pleasantly through a succession of little cascades as it leaps down from the mountains to the sea. the ravine in which the village is situate is shaded from the sun by enormous walnut and chestnut trees, and by the humbler branches of pear, apple, and peach trees. the houses are built on the slope in layers, with broad flat roofs, which are rendered watertight by a thick covering of sand and bitumen, and on looking down on it, or on any of the tartar villages, not a house is visible; all that can be seen is a succession of little brown square patches with one hole in each, descending the slope in regular terraces, the backs being formed by the hill-side itself. in simeis we were halted till the curiosity of a strong cossack picket and some regulars was satisfied. about sixty men passed us in review, and then we were let to climb the hill up to the road, at which we found another cossack waiting to relieve our silent friend who had so far accompanied us. "it was getting dark; there was no sign of the major; but, for a wonder, one of the cossacks spoke german, and he told us an english officer was on in front. in a few moments our guide began to ride down a steep zigzag road towards the sea. the cart had come up all right, and we found we were on our way down to aloupka, which is close to the sea-shore. the zigzag was as steep and sharp in its turns as any swiss mountain path, and the horses, already tired by the nature of the day's journey, showed signs of distress very visibly. the descent lasted for an hour; it seemed a night; the young moon just lighted up the cossack's white horse, and the feathery tips of tall poplars and branches of grey olive-trees and all else was in darkness. we heard the roar of the sea close at hand at last, and a low white building peered above the trees. we cantered into the open space before it by a nice avenue with a regular paling on each side. the cossack dismounted, fastened up his horse, and went into the house, leaving us in profound ignorance and great hunger outside. the sounds of very noisy and drunken singing, which roused the night owls through the windows, led us to believe the house was a cossack barrack, but after some time the door opened, and out came a brisk little man, who spoke good french, and a decent body, his wife, who astonished us with excellent english, and we found that we were at 'the hotel' at aloupka. the cause of the noise was soon found. it was the work of a drunken russian colonel, chief of the police at yalta, who had introduced himself to some english officers at that place, and had, in spite of them, accompanied them so far on their way to phoros. '_violà_,' said a little voice in our ears, as the door of the dining-room was opened,--'_violà la noblesse russe--il est noble parcequ'il est colonel_.' the room in which we found ourselves was a comfortable apartment, with sofas and easy-chairs, engravings of count potocki, of the czar (of course), of prince woronzoff, of very warm subjects from french burins, on the walls, and a table well covered with bottles and glasses. at the end of the table was seated a russian officer, screaming at the top of his voice some inscrutable snatches of song, for which he prepared himself by copious doses of brandy, sherry, and crim wine. he was offensively drunk, but the terror which he inspired in the landlord and landlady was not the less on that account, and was evidently only equalled by their hatred of him. we are told that the russians read the london papers so diligently that they know everything that passes as well as we do ourselves. i do not wish to get our good host and his wife, or even the inebriated muscovite, into a scrape, or i would relate a few particulars respecting their demeanour which might prove amusing. the colonel of the aloupka district, when he heard of the condition of his brother 'authority,' gave orders that he should be turned out, but these were not carried into effect till late in the evening. he spoke a little french, and i think he understood english, though he professed not to know a word. "our dinner consisted of salt meat and an _omelette au lard_, washed down with plenty of crim wine. we had also a tin of preserved beef. it was very fat, and we all put away the excess of adipose matter on a plate, where it formed a pretty large pile. the colonel, who had been eating the meat, suddenly seized upon this plate, and stuffed huge mouthfuls of the fat and grease down his throat on the point of a knife with infinite gusto. a cossack brought us in our passes. in spite of his standing at attention, the man's look betrayed a feeling of greater disgust at the colonel's condition than i should have given him credit for. our horses, which were put in a distant stable, could only be fed by the intervention of some others of our dons, who also undertook to guard them all right--'the greeks were such robbers.' our beds were clean and comfortable, and we slept well till morning, although the colonel kicked up at intervals a dreadful row outside. [sidenote: the alma revisited.] "distance lends enchantment to the view of prince woronzoff's palace from the sea. hence it seems a splendid combination of tartar and norman architecture, donjons and keeps, and battlemented walls, strangely intermingling with minarets and the dome of a mosque. it is quite close to our hotel, and is approached by a beautiful walk, like the back lodge avenue in an english estate. the path is marked by a wooden paling, inside which are olives and fruit-trees and evergreens, and immense chestnut and walnut trees and silvery poplars. we pass a quiet chateau with a verandah and terraced front. it was the prince's residence before he built his palace, and it is now used as a summer retreat by his son. the furniture is simple and handsome, and there is a beautiful view from the windows. a russian servant (the only one we saw about the place) readily showed us over the premises. "from aloupka we continued our course by the coast as far as the village of alushta, whence we turned off towards the north, crossing the tchater dagh and descending to simpheropol. from that town we made our way to bakshiserai, and so home to camp." chapter vii. visits to the alma--aspect of the locality--criticisms on the battle--conflicting statements--memorials of departed heroes. ere i left the crimea i went twice to the alma, and examined the battle-ground. i shall reproduce my account of the excursion in the language in which it was written at the time. "the road from the plateau, on which for one long year the hopes and fears and anxieties of civilized europe were concentrated, leads down from the ridge on which the battle of inkerman was mainly fought to the deep ravine out of which the materials for the mansions, quays, harbours, docks, and forts of sebastopol have been hewed. it presents a wild and desolate aspect. the graves of the slain are numerous. the slabs of oolite tower perpendicularly for several hundred feet on the right hand and the left to the verge of the elevated plateau, and rise, like great white walls of masonry, aloft from a base of huge blocks and disintegrated masses of the same substance. this ravine, deepening as it descends, falls at right angles to the valley through which the tchernaya eats its way to the head of the roads of sebastopol. at the lower end of the ravine the aqueduct spans it, and then is carried on a light and handsome bridge of masonry, supported on some ten or twelve arches right across, and disappears in a tunnel through the solid rock on the left-hand side. passing underneath, through one of the arches, you find yourself by the banks of the sluggish tchernaya, and a ride of yards or so past the perpendicular cliffs, perforated with caves, which bound the margin of the valley, leads you to the causeway across the marsh towards inkerman. an excellent wooden bridge, built by our engineers, stretches across the river, and the marsh beyond is crossed by a high causeway. at the near end are our guard-tents; and the pass is kept by the russian and english sentries, who seem on very good terms with each other. arrived at the end of the causeway, the cliffs of northern inkerman are above you, and the road winds up to a ravine which leads you to their recesses. a curious chapel and monkery in the caves are visible in the face of the cliff. embrasures are above, before, and on each side of you on entering these fastnesses. the black pupils of these dull eyes have been removed, but there is enough of the works left to show how hot and frequent they could have flashed on you in their anger. there are five batteries on various points of this ravine, and the slopes of the plateau afford many fine sites for field artillery or guns of position. the road is good. on the right, about a mile from the entrance of the ravine, are numerous deep shafts in the clay, from, which the russians draw their supply of water. the road winds gradually upwards till it leads you to the level of the north plateau of inkerman, just as the quarries road took you down from the south plateau to the level of the valley of the tchernaya, from which you are now ascending. here is the russian camp, at which we have so often gazed from the heights on the right of our position. it is now very much altered in appearance. the huts have been abandoned, and the men are living in a very pretty, clean, and well-kept camp of canvas, but the purlieus are very dirty, and have the usual disagreeable smell of russian quarters. the tents are square in shape, and at the top, which tapers to a point from the side of the wall, there is a knob, gilt or painted, which gives them an air of finish. the path or streets of the camp are bordered with wild flowers and fir branches. the regiments stationed here belong to the seventh division, which forms the first division of the third _corps d'armée_, and are, as well as i could ascertain, the th (smolensko) and th (politsch), and number about , men. there is a brigade of field artillery--two batteries--close to this camp, and the pieces are very well kept, and in excellent condition. [sidenote: the alma revisited.] "the cantonments extend as far as the heights over the valley of the belbek on the left-hand side, and could have contained about , men, which considerably exceeds the strength of the whole of the seventh division. a steep road descending from the verge of the plateau, at the point where the russian bazaar is established, leads to the belbek, which is crossed by two bridges. one of these is a fine, well-built new structure of wood; the other is that by which the army crossed in the flank march, and the post-house near which sir george cathcart took up his quarters still remains intact. the fourth division bivouacked here the night before we entered balaklava, when lord raglan slept at traktir, on the tchernaya, and sir george was very uneasy, on account of his isolated position, separated, as he was, from the rest of the army, and believing that a body of russians intervened between them. it was from this that general windham rode with despatches to the katcha, anticipating commander maxse's arrival from the tchernaya by more than half an hour, and from this neighbourhood the army turned towards mackenzie. lord raglan reconnoitred sebastopol from a hillock close to the road on the right, a short time before we fell in with the rear-guard and baggage of the enemy. the village of the belbek is greatly changed since then--the trees have been cut down, and the valley, once so beautiful, blooms no more. the villas have been used as hospitals, and there are many russian graves, marked with black wooden crosses, in the neighbouring ravines. from this valley you ascend another steep hill to the top of the plateau which lies between it and the valley of the katcha. the ground is covered with dwarf trees and thick brushwood, full of lizards and small birds, which are persecuted by numerous falcons and hawks. there are patches of naked ground and ashes scattered over the plateau, which show where parties of the enemy were encamped; but the country is not suited for large bodies of men, as water is not to be had except at the rivers. the plateau is intersected by numerous woody ravines, and the tracks followed by the allied armies are plainly visible. they have been much used by the russians. "a ride of three-quarters of an hour takes us to the valley of the katcha, still beautiful and rich with verdure, for this part of it is too far from the immediate operations of war, and too much out of the track from bakshiserai, to have suffered much. the place which we approach was once the village of eskel; it is now in ruins. the tartar houses are pulled down or unroofed; the population have fled; and the russian houses are just as they were left by the cossacks on our approach after the alma. the church gleams brightly through the dense branches of the fruit-trees, which are covered with blossoms, but the large tracts of vineyards which welcomed us nearly three years ago, are now uncultivated. the doctor's house is in a sad plight--one of the first we entered after the alma--and is still the picture of neglect and ruin. lord raglan's comfortable residence is in the custody of an old tartar, who shows the broken furniture, the sofas ripped open, the chairs smashed, and the beds cut up, with great pride, and leads one to infer pretty plainly that ruskie did all the mischief. it was at this village that the russians halted to recover breath after their headlong flight from the alma, and from it they fled the same night in panic on the cry being raised that the allies were coming. "the katcha is a deep narrow stream with rotten banks, and some people think it would have afforded a better position than the alma; but, in fact, it is too near sebastopol. we found a few russian soldiers in the houses; and on the first occasion it happened to be the greek easter sunday, and we were most hospitably entertained by a poor russian family, who insisted on our partaking of painted eggs, of salt pork steeped in vinegar, and cabbage, of brown bread, butter, vodka, or white home-made brandy, and crim tobacco, and then on embracing us because we were christians--a severe punishment, which, if often repeated, might lead to recantation. crossing the katcha by the bridge over which our army filed into eskel, we find ourselves on the steppe--the dry barren plain studded with tumuli, which extends in wavy folds right away to perekop. at this season of the year it is glorious with large beds of wild flowers, sweet-pea, roses, mignonette, thyme, orchids of all kinds, sweet-william, and many other varieties, whose tame and developed species are the ornaments of our gardens at home; it is musical, too, with the song of birds singing to their mates in the nest; but in september it is an arid, scorched waste, covered with coarse hay, and as it is devoid of water, it is unfit for pasturage. the ride to the alma from the katcha is not more than eight miles, but it seems twice the distance. the white telegraph station over the river, which stood on the russian left, can be seen for many miles on a clear day, but on the steppe mirage is very common, and the horizon is rarely well defined. it is often lost in a fantastic margin resembling the sealine of an agitated ocean. bustards, on the _qui vive_ about their young ones, soar slowly before us, and eagles, vultures, and many species of falcons are visible in pursuit of their prey, which must consist for the most part of hares, which are very large and numerous. some of these hares have been found to weigh ten or twelve pounds, and i have heard of a monster who turned the scale at fourteen pounds. in one of the hollows in the steppe, about three miles from the alma, there is a small hamlet, but, with this exception, not a habitation is visible over the whole of this vast expanse of land. it is famous ground for a long canter, or as much of a gallop as your horse will stand; so with the help of an occasional scurry after a hare the distance melts away, and as we go crashing through the sweet flowers, the telegraph rises higher and clearer till we pull up at the foot of the mound on which it stands. this was the scene of a fierce struggle, and it was here the french had some really hard fighting before they forced the enemy to fly. [sidenote: the alma revisited.] "the telegraph is a quadrilateral figure of white stone, and it has never been finished. it is covered with names; and one side is engraved '_la bataille d'alma, septembre_.' the french had put the right date, the th; but the russians obliterated it, and altered it to their own style. there are fifteen large sepulchral mounds around the telegraph, wherein lie french and russians, and the ravines are still full of bones, and of fragments of clothing and accoutrements. cannon-shot appear to have been carefully removed. there is an excellent view of the french position and attack from the edge of the plateau. the enemy must have had every movement of the allies under their eyes from the time they left bouljanak till they halted to form for battle; and the spectacle could not have been one to have given them much courage, or to have inflamed their ardour. the russians declare they had only , or , on the field; but, admitting that to be so, they made a bad fight, considering the position they occupied, and their cavalry exhibited that passive and unenterprising character which it maintained throughout the war. an officer of the old pestal regiment told me that he charged our first attacking body when they were checked with the bayonet, and that if all the troops inside and on the flanks of the redoubts had rushed out simultaneously, the day would have been lost to us; but he was rather surprised when he heard that our third and fourth divisions were still intact, and that the guards, whom he supposed to have been routed, were never broken except in the centre, where the scots fusiliers wavered for a time in their advance under the heavy fire of the russians and the pressure of the disjointed groups of the light division. the french are disposed to think that the english were too slow in beginning the attack, which it was agreed should not take place till our allies had gained the left of the russian position. it is certain that lord raglan received one, if not two, pressing messages from marshal st. arnaud to hasten his columns: but one may ask how it was that here, as everywhere else, the honour of taking the initiative was ceded to our allies, and the opportunity given to them of saying 'the english were too late.' they only numbered , , whereas we had , . if it resulted from their position on our right, why did they take the left when we halted before sebastopol? "the assaults on the place were made on the same principle--the french first, the english afterwards; and, whether it be true or false that we were 'too late,' there can be no doubt there was from the beginning a tendency to say so. it is beyond question, in the opinion of many officers, that the light division were not followed closely enough by the first in their advance up the hill at the alma. in other words, the latter were too slow or 'too late.' the french did their part admirably, and their intelligence and personal activity were wonderfully displayed in their progress up the steep ravines and sides of the high banks of the plateau, but their loss in killed and wounded was under men, while ours was just , . the admiral bouet willaumez, in his recent so-called 'history of the french navy,' distinctly avers that the english general would not permit the victory to be followed up by marching next day, and that the french were retarded by their allies. a different impression prevails in our army; but this is one of the points which must be cleared up for history by those who were in the confidence of lord raglan. the statement, at all events, shows what was the belief of the _chef d'état major_ of the french navy in the black sea. of the necessity and of the motives for the delay, of its results, of the practicability of getting such aid from the fleet as would have relieved us entirely from the charge of sick, wounded, and prisoners, i shall not speak; but it is to be remarked that the feebleness and imbecility of our arrangements in this portion of our administration became apparent at the very first pressure by the abandonment of our ambulances just at the very time they were most needed, by the disgraceful exhibition of the _kangaroo_ crowded with sick and wounded till she had to make the signal that she was unmanageable and unsafe in the sight of the whole fleet, by the sufferings of her miserable cargo, left to the charge of one surgeon, who could not attend to a tithe of his patients, and who could not even get at them if he could have dressed their wounds, and by the foolish and cruel expedient of leaving another surgeon, dr. thompson, and his servant on the field to take care of wounded men. dr. thompson felt the hopelessness and positive cruelty of such a proceeding, and remonstrated against it, but he was told it had been 'ordered,' and that if the 'cossacks' came down his 'professional character' would protect him. "the battle of the alma was one of the most brilliant in the world--the shortest and sharpest, and our army, young in action, but veteran in service, displayed the best qualities of british infantry. we have since heard of the incredulity, of the dismay, with which the news was received in st. petersburg, and of the subsequent eagerness of the russian army to avenge the defeat and to hurry to the crimea, to drive the allies into the sea. they found a barrier they could not break at inkerman; but they are a people prone to put faith in their own invincibility, and slow to credit defeat. they believe in themselves yet. the position of the alma is so well marked that it can never be mistaken by any future visitors. the french attacked the steep and almost perpendicular cliffs, which are broken here and there by ravines which mount upwards from the river. their columns were divided from our regiments by the most marked and extensive of those ravines, and eastward of that boundary the whole of the ground suddenly falls, and, instead of rising abruptly from the alma, gains the high level of the hills by a series of sweeping undulations, offering many positions for guns, with extensive glacis to the front. [sidenote: peaceful explorations.] "descending from the plateau, some of our party crossed the bridge, and went out on the plain towards bouljanak to the tumuli which stud the plains, and which denote the extreme range of the russian guns. on turning round towards the south, the eye takes in the whole scene of battle, from the sea on the right to the low slopes which formed the right of the russian position. their left was separated from their right by a deep ravine running at right angles toward the alma, and this ravine also is the boundary between the high and steep cliffs which, on the south bank, overhang the tortuous course of the alma from the ford to the sea, and the gentler rising grounds on which the enemy's left lay, strengthened by the epaulements and by the mass of the russian artillery. it will then be seen how the russian left depended on the nature of the ground as its best defence, and what a fatal mistake menschikoff committed when he omitted to take into consideration the effect of the fire of the ships. that fire soon drove back their left, and forced it to reform on the centre, which it put into confusion, and the french, ascending by the ravines with the utmost courage and activity, made good their footing on the right and turned the russian left completely, with comparatively little loss. the advance of our allies was covered to a great extent by the thick foliage on the banks of the alma, and the cliffs are so high and rotten that the enemy's guns could not be used with success against them. the course of the river is much further from the base of these cliffs than it is from the slopes on the russian right, where the british attacked, so that it would be scarcely commanded by guns on the top of the plateau; whereas, we were under fire for several hundred yards before we reached the alma at all. "a mound, composed of fifteen graves, at the distance of or yards from the river on its north side, denotes the resting-place of those who fell before the army crossed the stream, or who died after the fight in the ambulances. the road by which we advanced to the bridge was just as it was on the th of september, and on the right, close to the stream, were the blackened ruins of the village of bourliouk. it will be remembered that the enemy partially destroyed the bridge, but that it was repaired during the action by the royal engineers and a party of sappers and miners. the bridge has been substantially rebuilt, by means of a strong wooden way thrown across the stone arches, and supported by beams and uprights. the old post-house, on the right of the road before you come to the bridge, was about being reconstructed, and a guard of soldiers were lodged in its ruins. it will be, to all appearances, a handsome house of fine white freestone when it is finished. i surveyed its ruins with peculiar interest, for i know a person very intimately who took shelter in this house, part of which was on fire, to get out of a fire still hotter, till he was driven out by a shell falling through the roof, and it was at the wall outside, which was yet torn by shot, that i met the first two wounded officers i saw that day--two officers of the th, one hit through the chest or side; the other wounded, i think, in the leg or arm. they were helping each other from the river, bleeding and weak, and i was fortunate enough to be able to bring to their aid a staff surgeon, belonging, i believe, to the cavalry division, who kindly examined their wounds under fire. close to this i had previously seen the first man killed--a drummer, who was carrying a litter, and who was struck by a round shot which bowled slowly along the road and hit him, with a peculiar squashing sound, on the hip. he fell, and never moved; nor did his comrade, who was carrying the other end of the litter, stop to mourn over his death. "after the intrepid rush of the light division up the hill, its wavering, its broken and unwilling halt, the bold advance of pennefather's brigade, and the billow-like march of the guards, i pressed on immediately in the rear of the light, and in front of the third division, and i was able to warn colonel waddy, as he approached at the head of the th, that he was moving right along the line of fire of the enemy's guns, and, as there was a very conclusive proof given of the correctness of the statement just as i spoke, that gallant officer moved off his men, who were in dense column, a little to the left, and got off the road to the fields. all these things and many more came back upon me as i looked around. i could recall that narrow road filled with dead and dying--old friends jesting at scars and wounds, and exulting in victory, and awaiting with patience the arrival of men to carry them away to the surgeons--a white-haired field-officer (of the th), whose name i don't know, badly wounded through the body, who could only moan bitterly, 'oh, my poor men! oh, my poor men! they hadn't a chance;' then the river stained here and there with blood, still flowing from the dead and dying who lay on the shallows and the banks, lined nevertheless by hundreds, who drank its waters eagerly; the horrid procession of the dripping litters going to the rear of the fight; the solid mass of adams' brigade, halted by lord raglan's orders as it emerged from the smoke of bourliouk: the staff itself and the commander-in-chief, gathered on the rising ground close by; that ghastly battle-field where so many lay in so small a place putrescent with heat and wounds; the grey blocks of russians melting away like clouds, and drifted off by the fierce breath of battle; the shriek and rush of the shells from the brass howitzers in the battery, the patter of the rifle, the rattling roll of the musketry, the frantic cheers of our men as they stood victors on the heights, drowning the groans and cries which for a moment succeeded the roar of battle; the shrill flourish of the french bugles, and the joyous clamour of their drums from the other side of the ravine--all came back upon the ear again, and the eye renewed its pleasure as it gazed from the ridge upon the plain where it had before seen the russians flying in disorder, with their rear still covered by the threatening squadrons of their cavalry. then one recalled the spot where one had seen some friend lying dead, or some one--friend or foe--whom it were no mercy to strive to keep alive. watkin wynn, stretched on the ground in front of the trench, with a smile on his face--chester, with a scornful frown, and his sword clenched in the death grasp--monck, with the anger of battle fixed on every feature--these and many another friend in the peaceful camp of aladyn or devno rose up as they lived in the memory. the scowling russians who glared so fiercely on their conquerors and seemed to hate them even as they supplied their wants, then seen for the first time, left an impression respecting the type of the muscovite character which has scarcely been effaced now that they have ceased to be enemies. i recalled the two days passed as no army ought to pass two days--on the field of battle amid the dead--the horrid labours of those hours of despondency and grief where all should have been triumph and rejoicing, and the awakened vigour with which the army broke from its bivouac on the alma and set out with no certain aim, no fixed project, on its chance march which fate made successful. [sidenote: the alma revisited.] "the intrenchment can be distinctly seen for a mile north of the river. it is placed half-way down the slope of the little hill-side. there were no other works, trenches, redoubts, or field-works of any description except one more epaulement and a few sods of earth turned up to afford cover to a few skirmishers; and all the accounts of such defences filled with riflemen and guns which have been made public were erroneous. the enemy had very few riflemen, and the ground, except on the extreme left, was of such a nature that good cover for guns could be had for the seeking. for many years to come the battle-field is likely to remain as it is now, the only difference being that the vines which flourished on the th of september, , and which are now destroyed, may be cultivated once more. on ascending from the river towards the intrenchment, you find yourself on the left completely covered by a rise of the hill in front from the parapet, so that men could form in this hollow for the attack, without being exposed to fire; but the russians, aware of this, sent down on their extreme right large bodies of infantry, who fired at the left brigade of the light division as they were trying to get into order after crossing the river. "on the right, nearer to the bridge, the ground is more exposed to guns from the parapet of the trench, and on advancing a few yards the fair open glacis, gently sloping upwards to their muzzles, gives a terrible solution of the reason why for a time the light division was held in check, and lost in a few moments upwards of , men. at the base of this glacis, and scattered along the ridge towards the river, are mounds of earth about thirty feet long by fifteen in breadth, which are covered with large stones and slabs of slate. there are fifteen or sixteen of these mounds, and many of them contain the remains of friends and foes. some small black wooden crosses are placed here and there among these mounds, which rise to the height of two or three feet above the level of the plain, and are all covered with rank vegetation and wild flowers. the parapet of the work is still about three feet outside, and a foot deeper in the trench inside. near the centre is placed a handsome monument of white stone, with the following inscription:-- "'during the attack on these heights, th september, , her britannic majesty's rd royal welsh fusileers lost their commanding officer, lieutenant-colonel h. chester, captains a. w. wynn, f. evans, j. conolly, lieutenants p. radcliffe, sir w. young, bart., j. anstruther, and j. butler, all killed on the field: also lieutenant applewaite, mortally wounded, who died nd september, . this stone is erected to their memory.' "on the other side,'the regiment also lost sergeant j. h. jones, colour-sergeants r. hitchcock, j. f. edwards, one drummer, and forty privates, killed on the field.' "in the ditch of the field-work there are about twenty large graves covered with long grass and wild flowers. the trench is about yards long, and it is filled with earth which has tumbled down into it from the parapet; the traces of the embrasures still remain. there are two stone crosses erected inside the trench on heaps of dead. this was all that remained to betoken the scene of the action on our side, except a few pieces of threadbare rags and bits of accoutrements, leathern straps, old shakos, and fragments of cowhide knapsacks. some miserable tartars prowled about the ruins of bourliouk to act as unintelligible guides, and to pick up the fragments left after the river-side meal of the visitors. starting at six o'clock a.m. from sebastopol, one can go to the alma, spend, three hours there, and return to the city or to balaklava by dinner-time on a good horse. it is under fifty miles. the last time i was there i threw a fly over the waters, having heard that there were trout in the stream, but only a few 'logger-headed chub' and a kind of dace, responded to the effort. and so i take leave of this little river, which shall henceforth be celebrated in history to the end of time." chapter viii. departure of general della marmora and the sardinian staff--general after order--inspection of the siege-works, offensive and defensive--memorials to the dead--major hammersley's tour--information obtained--what might have been effected by an advance after the th of september--aspect of the country. the departure of general della marmora and the sardinian staff, which occurred on monday, th may, was the signal for strong demonstrations of the regard and esteem in which they were held by our army. the ships in harbour hoisted the sardinian flag, the _leander_ manned yards, and the general set his foot on the deck of the vessel which was to bear him home amid enthusiastic cheers. the good feeling which existed between the sardinians and the allies was never marred for one moment by untoward jealousies or rivalry; more especially were they ever on terms of friendship with the english, although their knowledge of french gave them greater facilities for communicating with our allies. the position at fedukhine brought them into constant contact with french and highland brigades, and they left behind many kindly remembrances. in all my rambles i rarely, if ever, saw a drunken sardinian; their behaviour in camp, in the canteens, at kadikoi, and on the roads was exemplary. the english commander-in-chief issued the following general after-order:-- "head-quarters, sebastopol, _may th, _. "no. . the greater part of the sardinian army has quitted the crimea, and general della marmora himself will soon embark. "a guard of honour, with artillery, will be held in readiness for the departure of the sardinian commander-in-chief. "the commander of the forces trusts that general della marmora will himself receive, and convey to those whom he has commanded in the crimea, the good wishes of the english army for their future prosperity. [sidenote: the evacuation.] "with steadiness, with discipline, with resource, the sardinian army has long maintained and efficiently guarded the advanced position entrusted to it; and it bore its honourable share with the troops of france in the battle of the tchernaya. "in our intercourse there has neither been difficulty nor difference, and this good feeling between all the armies of the alliance has had a very important influence in determining the peace of europe. "by order. c. a. windham, chief of the staff." as we were about to part, our anxiety to learn more of our late foes increased. the russians surveyed our camps, we visited their hospitals, studied their commissariat, inquired into their military system, and inspected their positions; our engineers minutely examined the works of our allies, with which they were necessarily but slightly acquainted during the progress of the attack. the approaches to the place afforded no opportunity to our english engineers of developing the use of mines. we were never sufficiently near to the redan, and our works were not assailable by the same agency for the same reason. the french system of mines in front of the bastion du mât presented a most astonishing display of labour and skill. to the russians, however, belonged the credit of performing the most extensive operations. the enemy's mines consisted of two series of galleries and magazines, the first being twenty-seven feet below the surface, the second being forty feet below the first. the workmen were supplied with air by means of force-pumps. in one magazine at the end of one of the galleries there was found , lbs. of powder, all tamped in and ready for firing by electric wires. this magazine would have formed an _étonnoir_ far in the rear of the french advance; and the explosion was intended to destroy not only the french parallels, but the works of the bastion du mât itself, so as to prevent the french turning the guns. the destruction of the docks was effected by a smaller quantity of gunpowder. the russians intended to fire some of these mines in case of an assault on the bastion being repulsed under circumstances which gave them a chance of occupying the enemy's advanced saps; others would only have been fired in case of a retreat from the city, in order to destroy as many of the enemy as possible and to check pursuit. there were two or three mines inside the redan, and there were some extensive galleries and mines in front of the malakoff, but it was at the bastion du mât, or flagstaff battery, that the french and russians put forth their strength in mine and countermine. the galleries were pushed for fifty yards oftentimes through the solid rock. these labours were of the most stupendous character, and must have proved very exhausting to the garrison. many of the shafts sprang out of the counterscarp, there were numerous chambers cut into the ditch of the bastion, which were used as bombproofs. it was also discovered that the russians had cut a subterranean gallery from inside the parapet, under the ditch, to an advanced work which they used as a _place d'armes_ in making sorties, and the french, who had been puzzled to understand how the men used to collect in this work without being seen, now perceived the _modus operandi_. the effect produced by the french mines could only be conceived by those who looked down the yawning craters of the _étonnoirs_, the wild chaos of rocks cast up all around by the explosion, as though titans and gods had met there in deadly combat. some of these gulfs resembled the pits of volcanoes. the british army, relieved from the pressure of military duties, and warned of their approaching departure, laboured, regiment by regiment, for many long weeks, to erect memorials to the comrades whose remains would be left behind. the works of this nature, which the hasty embarkation did not permit the army to complete, were undertaken by the few skilled soldier-labourers belonging to us. the chersonese from balaklava to the verge of the roadstead of sebastopol was covered with isolated graves, with large burial-grounds, and detached cemeteries. ravine and plain--hill and hollow--the roadside and secluded valley--for miles around, from the sea to the tchernaya, presented those stark-white stones, singly or in groups, stuck upright in the arid soil, or just peering over the rank vegetation which sprang beneath.[ ] the french formed one large cemetery. the sardinians erected a pedestal and obelisk of stone on the heights of balaklava, close to their hospital, to the memory of general della marmora and of their departed comrades; we erected similar monuments on the heights of inkerman and on the plain of balaklava to commemorate the th of november and the th of october. a tour made by major hammersley, captain brooke, and mr. st. clair in the north of the crimea demonstrated the enormous difficulties experienced by the russians in maintaining their position. it satisfied every one, that if the allies had advanced after the th of september, and followed the enemy, the russian army of the south must have surrendered, and cherson, berislaff, nicholaieff, and odessa would have been seriously menaced. all the north side, its guns, its garrison, all the _matériel_, all the provisions and magazines of bakshiserai and simpheropol, must have fallen into our hands, and about , or , men. "but why so?" some one will ask. "could they not have got away?" most certainly not. there are but two outlets from the crimea; the first is by the isthmus at perekop, the second is by the bridge over the putrid sea at tchongar. the approaches to these outlets lie over waterless, foodless plateaux, broken up by deep salt lakes. the wells, which yield a scanty supply of disagreeable water, are profound pits, of which the shallowest is feet, and many are as deep as to feet. they are scattered over the country very sparsely, and they contain but little water. under such circumstances, the russians were obliged to send in their reinforcements by driblets, to carry water whenever they wanted to push on a single regiment. it would have been impossible for them to have marched a body of , or , men by either of those routes in dry weather. imagine how helpless would have been the position of an army of , or , men of all arms, hemmed in by this salt prairie, and by the waters of the sivash, under a burning sun, and pressed by a victorious enemy. they could not have marched, nor, if they had once got away, could we have pursued; but no general in his senses would have risked the entire destruction of his army by retreating under circumstances like those from the south of the crimea; and the russians confessed their position was hopeless had they been attacked and beaten at any point along the line. [sidenote: defences of perekop.] when our travellers arrived at perekop, they observed that the defences consisted of redoubts directed against an advance from russia proper, and not from the south of the crimea; they made a similar discovery at tchongar, where the _tête-de-pont_ was strongly fortified towards the north, and was open towards the south. these works were mostly thrown up at the time of the kinburn expedition, which the russians very naturally believed to be the precursor of an immediate operation against the crimea, to which they looked with very great apprehension. general von wrangel received them with much hospitality and kindness at perekop. the old tartar citadel and the remains of a wall and parapet were visible; but the defences of the place were very weak; water was very scarce, and very bad; but the climate is healthy, except when the wind blows across the sivash. no less than , men died of sickness at and near perekop. there were large hospitals and ambulances, but they were far too small for the demands upon them, and many convoys had to be sent on to cherson, berislaff and nicholaieff. at tchongar the tourists were refused permission to pass the bridge, and that refusal was confirmed by the general commanding at genitchi, to whom they applied to rescind the decision of his subordinate. they examined the bridge, however, and found it was well and substantially built of wood. the waters of the sivash are as clear as crystal, and are so intensely bitter that no fish frequent them except small flounders. the bottom consists of a stratum of fine shells, of two or three inches in thickness, just sufficient to bear a man treading lightly upon it, but if one presses with all his weight this crust breaks, and up rushes black mud and stinking gas, probably sulphuretted hydrogen. the banks are high and steep, and all the way from genitchi to the bridge of tchongar, in the centre of the stream, there is a channel, about nine feet deep. this sea presents the curious phenomenon of a steady current running from genitchi west to perekop, where there is no outlet whatever, so that there must be an under current out again, or, as the natives believe, a prodigious evaporation on the shoals at the extremity of the sea. the salt lakes are very conspicuous features in the desolate scenery of northern crimea. they are surrounded by very high precipitous banks; and the waters seem black from their great depth. one of these, lake veliki, is connected with perekop by the line of redoubts, seven in number, recently constructed. wherever these abound, fresh water is rare, and the wells are deep. each village has about two wells, and the supply is so small that it would take a day at any one station to water a regiment of cavalry. in the south there is abundance of fresh water, of blooming valleys, of fruit, corn, vines, and forest trees; but for the cultivation and growth of these russia is mainly indebted to the industrious german colonists. kronthal, neusatz, friedenthal, rosenthal, zurichthal, heilbronn, and other villages founded by these industrious people, are patterns of neatness and frugal comfort. most of the emigrants came from wurtemburg, and they spoke fondly of "fatherland." the russians gave them small ground for complaint. they are exempt from all military service for years, and their only tribute to the state is a capitation-tax of twenty silver roubles, which they are in general well able to pay. another interesting point visited was the fortress of arabat, which was bombarded for several hours by the allied squadron. the fact is, however, that not only was little or no harm done to the fortress, but that the russians claim it as a victory, and have promoted the officer who commanded for "beating off the allied fleet." such will always be the result of an attack by sea on any land-defences so long as the enemy retain one gun to fire when the attack has ceased. the spit of arabat was very little used at any time, and a curious instance of the ignorance of chart-makers was discovered on referring to the sites of wells marked on the maps. there were no wells, for the simple reason that they were not required. the water of the sea of azoff close to the spit is quite fresh, and can be drunk with safety by man or beast. vast as the population of russia is in the aggregate, the extent of her territory is such that, in the state of her internal communication, it was difficult for her to concentrate troops, notwithstanding the conscription and compulsory levies. towards the end of the war, sebastopol swallowed up her armies by whole divisions, a battalion a day was engulfed in the yawning craters of our shells. the march of a regiment through a country such as has been described was as fatal as a battle, and it was customary to estimate the reduction in strength caused by moving from odessa to sebastopol at per cent. during the worst days of its trials the russian army in the crimea lost men a day! this did not include casualties caused in the siege. the attention of their medical men was directed to the enormous losses of their army, and to its extreme unhealthiness in campaigns; and a board, consisting of a few of their most eminent men, made minute inquiries into the medical administration of the allied armies. they were greatly impressed with what they saw at balaklava, and one of them exclaimed, "we heard you were prepared for a three years' war; we find you are ready for twenty." [sidenote: the evacuation.] the uttermost efforts were made by the allies to remove the stores and _matériel_ accumulated on the plateau, and to embark the troops for their different destinations, but so vast was the mass of warlike necessaries, and so large the force congregated in the crimea, that it was not till july they had so far succeeded as to be able to name a day for the formal cession of the last position held by them on russian soil. on the th of july the th regiment furnished a rear-guard which was posted outside balaklava to await the russian officer who was to take over charge of the town. he came across the plain with cossacks, and the two parties saluted and then returned to the town, where the russians posted their sentries, and the english troops embarked on board h.m.s. _algiers_. the general in command of the british forces, sir w. codrington, and his staff left the crimea at the same time. during the expedition the english lost--killed in action and died of wounds, , ; died of cholera, , ; of other diseases nearly , ;--total (including officers), , ; , officers and men were disabled. the french loss was estimated at , men, killed in action or died in camps. the loss of the russians was estimated as high as , . the war added to the national debt £ , , . finis. cathcart's hill ( .) in times to come this cathcart's hill will be a chosen terminus of saxon pilgrimage. whether the traveller beholds from its humble parapet the fair aspect of the imperial city, guarded by threefold mightier batteries than before, or sits upon the cemetery wall to gaze upon the ruins of sebastopol, he must, if he has any british blood in his veins, regard with emotion that little spot which encloses all that was mortal of some of the noblest soldiers that ever sprang from our warrior race. he will see the site of those tedious trenches where the strong man waxed weak day after day, and the sanguine became hopeless, and where the british soldier fought through a terrible winter with privation, cold, frost, snow, and rain, more terrible and deadly than the fire of the enemy. with the redan, the malakoff, the quarries, the mamelon, gordon's attack, chapman's attack, under his eyes, he will revive with the aspect of the places where they stood the memories of this great struggle, and in his mind the incidents of its history will be renewed. [sidenote: cathcart's hill.] the cemetery is a parallelogram of about forty yards long by thirty broad, formed by the base of a ruined wall, which might in former days have marked the lines of a tartar fort, or have been the first russian redoubt to watch over the infancy of sebastopol. although many a humble tumulus indicated to the eye of affection the place where some beloved comrade rests till the last _reveillée_, the care and love of friends had left memorials in solid stone of most of those whose remains were buried in this spot. the first grave towards the front and west of the cemetery consisted of a simple mound of earth. i know not whose remains lie below. the second was marked by a simple slab, with the following inscription:--"sacred to the memory of lieutenant h. tryon, rifle brigade, killed in action on the th of november, ." he was a thorough soldier, brave, cool, and resolute, and in the terrible crisis of inkerman he used a rifle with more deadly certainty and success than any of his men. in the struggle for the "ovens" on the th of november, in which a small body of the rifle brigade dislodged a force of the enemy much greater than their own, he displayed such gallantry that general canrobert paid him the rare honour of a special mention in the next "general order of the day" for the french army. next to his reposed the remains of a lamented officer. the stone recorded his name, "sacred to the memory of brigadier-general thomas leigh goldie, commanding the first brigade of the th division of the british army, lieutenant-colonel of the th regiment, who fell at inkerman, november , ." no. was a rude cross of stone, without mark or name. the fifth grave was distinguished by a stone cross at the feet, and at the head was a slab with an ornamental top, beneath which was written, "sacred to the memory of brigadier-general fox strangways, killed in action november , ." a few lines in russian asked the christian forbearance of our enemies upon our departure for the bones of one whom they would have admired and loved had they known him. no. was conspicuous by a large tombstone, with an ornamental cross at the top, and some simple efforts at the chisel at the sides and base. come and read! "here lieth the mortal remains of captain edward stanley, th regiment, killed at the battle of inkerman, november , , to whose memory this stone is erected by the men of his company--'cast down but not destroyed,' corinthians, iv. ." who will not look with respect on the tombs of these poor soldiers, and who does not feel envy for the lot of men so honoured? there were fourteen other graves in the same row, of which only one could be identified. sir george cathcart's resting-place was marked by a very fine monument, for which his widow expressed her thanks to those who raised it to the memory of their beloved commander. there was an inscription upon it commemorating the general's services, and the fact that he served with the russian armies in one of their most memorable campaigns--the date of his untimely and glorious death, and an inscription in the russian language stating who and what he was who reposed beneath. in the second row to the east there were two graves, without any inscription on the stones; the third was marked by a very handsome circular pillar of hewn stone, surmounted by a cross, and placed upon two horizontal slabs. on the pillar below the cross in front was this inscription: "to lieutenant-colonel c. f. seymour, scots fusileer guards, killed in action, november , ." beneath these words were a cross sculptured in the stone, and the letters "i.h.s.;" and a russian inscription on the back, requesting that the tomb might be saved from desecration. at the foot of the tomb there was an elaborately carved stone lozenge surmounting a slab, and on the lozenge was engraved the crest of the deceased, with some heraldic bird springing from the base of a coronet, with the legend "foy pour devoir, c.f.s. Æt. ." how many an absent friend would have mourned around this tomb! close at hand was a handsome monument to sir john campbell, than whom no soldier was ever more regretted or more beloved by those serving under him; and not far apart in another row was a magnificent sarcophagus in black devonshire marble, to the memory of sir r. newman, of the grenadier guards, who also fell at inkerman. with all these memorials of death behind us, the front wall at cathcart's hill was ever a favourite spot for gossips and spectators, and sayers of jokes, and _raconteurs_ of _bons mots_ or such _jeux d'esprit_ as find favour in military circles. appendix. dispatches and documents. the landing in the crimea. lord raglan to the duke of newcastle. (_received september ._) camp above old fort bay, _september , _. my lord duke,--i do myself the honour to acquaint your grace that the combined fleets and their convoys appeared in the bay of eupatoria on the th instant, and in the course of the following night proceeded some miles to the southward, where the allied armies commenced disembarking early in the morning of the th,--the french in the bay below old fort, the english in the next bay nearer to eupatoria,--and before dark the whole of the british infantry and some artillery, and most of the french troops were on shore. shortly before dark, the weather unfortunately changed, and it became hazardous to attempt to continue landing either troops or guns. the surf on the beach impeded the operation the following morning; and since, on more than one occasion; but thanks to the great exertions of the navy, under the able and active superintendence of rear-admiral sir edmund lyons, who was charged with the whole arrangement, every obstacle has been overcome, and i am now enabled to report to your grace that the disembarkations have been completed. i should not do justice to my own feelings, or to those of the troops i have the honour to command, if i did not prominently bring to the knowledge of your grace the deep sense entertained by all, of the invaluable services rendered by her majesty's navy. the spirit by which both officers and men were animated, made them regardless of danger, of fatigue, and indeed of every consideration but that of performing an arduous and important duty; and that duty they discharged to the admiration of all who had the good fortune to witness their unceasing efforts to land horses and carriages, with the utmost expedition and safety, under frequently the most trying circumstances. i have, &c., (signed) raglan. lord raglan's despatch as to the battle of the alma. lord raglan to the duke of newcastle. (_received october ._) head-quarters, katscha river, _september , _. my lord duke,--i have the honour to inform your grace that the allied troops attacked the position occupied by the russian army, behind the alma, on the th instant; and i have great satisfaction in adding that they succeeded, in less than three hours, in driving the enemy from every part of the ground which they had held in the morning, and in establishing themselves upon it. the english and french armies moved out of their first encampment in the crimea on the th, and bivouacked for the night on the left bank of the bulganac, the former having previously supported the advance of a part of the earl of cardigan's brigade of light cavalry, which had the effect of inducing the enemy to move up a large body of dragoons and cosaques, with artillery. on this, the first occasion of the english encountering the russian force, it was impossible for any troops to exhibit more steadiness than did this portion of her majesty's cavalry. it fell back upon its supports with the most perfect regularity under the fire of the artillery, which was quickly silenced by that of the batteries i caused to be brought into action. our loss amounted to only four men wounded. the day's march had been most wearisome, and under a burning sun the absence of water, until we reached the insignificant but welcome stream of the bulganac, made it to be severely felt. both armies moved towards the alma the following morning, and it was arranged that marshal st. arnaud should assail the enemy's left by crossing the river at its junction with the sea, and immediately above it, and that the remainder of the french divisions should move up the heights in their front, whilst the english army should attack the right and centre of the enemy's position. in order that the gallantry exhibited by her majesty's troops, and the difficulties they had to meet, may be fairly estimated, i deem it right, even at the risk of being considered tedious, to endeavour to make your grace acquainted with the position the russians had taken up. it crossed the great road about two miles and a half from the sea, and is very strong by nature. the bold and almost precipitous range of heights, of from to feet, that from the sea closely border the left bank of the river, here ceases and formed their left, and turning thence round a great amphitheatre or wide valley, terminates at a salient pinnacle where their right rested, and whence the descent to the plain was more gradual. the front was about two miles in extent. across the mouth of this great opening is a lower ridge at different heights, varying from to feet, parallel to the river, and at distances from it of from to yards. the river itself is generally fordable for troops, but its banks are extremely rugged, and in most parts steep; the willows along it had been cut down, in order to prevent them from affording cover to the attacking party, and in fact everything had been done to deprive an assailant of any species of shelter. in front of the position on the right bank, at about yards from the alma, is the village of bouliouk, and near it a timber bridge, which had been partly destroyed by the enemy. the high pinnacle and ridge before alluded to was the key of the position, and consequently, there the greatest preparations had been made for defence. half way down the height, and across its front, was a trench of the extent of some hundred yards, to afford cover against an advance up the even steep slope of the hill. on the right, and a little retired, was a powerful covered battery, armed with heavy guns, which flanked the whole of the right of the position. artillery, at the same time, was posted at the points that best commanded the passage of the river and its approaches generally. on the slopes of these hills (forming a sort of table land) were placed dense masses of the enemy's infantry, whilst on the heights above was his great reserve, the whole amounting, it is supposed, to between , and , men. the combined armies advanced on the same alignement, her majesty's troops in contiguous double columns, with the front of two divisions covered by light infantry and a troop of horse artillery; the nd division, under lieutenant-general sir de lacy evans, forming the right, and touching the left of the rd division of the french army, under his imperial highness prince napoleon, and the light division, under lieutenant-general sir george brown, the left; the first being supported by the rd division, under lieutenant-general sir richard england, and the last by the st division, commanded by lieutenant-general his royal highness the duke of cambridge. the th division, under lieutenant-general sir george cathcart, and the cavalry under major-general the earl of lucan, were held in reserve to protect the left flank and rear against large bodies of the enemy's cavalry, which had been seen in those directions. on approaching to near the fire of the guns, which soon became extremely formidable, the two leading divisions deployed into line, and advanced to attack the front, and the supporting divisions followed the movement. hardly had this taken place, when the village of bouliouk, immediately opposite the centre, was fired by the enemy at all points, creating a continuous blaze for three hundred yards, obscuring their position, and rendering a passage through it impracticable. two regiments of brigadier-general adams' brigade, part of sir de lacy evans' division, had, in consequence, to pass the river at a deep and difficult ford to the right under a sharp fire, whilst his first brigade, under major-general pennefather, and the remaining regiment of brigadier-general adams, crossed to the left of the conflagration, opposed by the enemy's artillery from the heights above, and pressed on towards the left of their position with the utmost gallantry and steadiness. in the meanwhile, the light division, under sir george brown, effected the passage of the alma in his immediate front. the banks of the river itself were, from their rugged and broken nature, most serious obstacles, and the vineyards, through which the troops had to pass, and the trees which the enemy had felled, created additional impediments, rendering every species of formation, under a galling fire, nearly an impossibility. lieutenant-general sir george brown advanced against the enemy under great disadvantages. in this difficult operation he nevertheless persevered, and the st brigade, under major-general codrington, succeeded in carrying a redoubt, materially aided by the judicious and steady manner in which brigadier-general buller moved on the left flank, and by the advance of four companies of the rifle brigade, under major norcott, who promises to be a distinguished officer of light troops. the heavy fire of grape and musketry, however, to which the troops were exposed, and the losses consequently sustained by the th, rd, and rd regiments, obliged this brigade partially to relinquish its hold. by this time, however, the duke of cambridge had succeeded in crossing the river, and had moved up in support, and a brilliant advance of the brigade of foot guards, under major-general bentinck, drove the enemy back, and secured the final possession of the work. the highland brigade, under major-general sir colin campbell, advanced in admirable order and steadiness up the high ground to the left, and in co-operation with the guards; and major-general pennefather's brigade, which had been connected with the right of the light division, forced the enemy completely to abandon the position they had taken such pains to defend and secure. the th regiment, immediately on the right of the royal fusiliers in the advance, suffered equally with that corps an immense loss. the aid of the royal artillery in all these operations was most effectual. the exertions of the field officers and the captains of troops and batteries to get the guns into action were unceasing, and the precision of their fire materially contributed to the great results of the day. lieutenant-general sir richard england brought his division to the immediate support of the troops in advance, and lieutenant-general the honourable sir george cathcart was actively engaged in watching the left flank. the nature of the ground did not admit of the employment of the cavalry under the earl of lucan; but they succeeded in taking some prisoners at the close of the battle. in the details of these operations, which i have gone into as far as the space of a despatch would allow, your grace will perceive that the services in which the general and other officers of the army were engaged, were of no ordinary character; and i have great pleasure in submitting them for your grace's most favourable consideration. the mode in which lieutenant-general sir george brown conducted his division under the most trying circumstances demands the expression of my warmest approbation. the fire to which his division was subjected and the difficulties he had to contend against, afford no small proof that his best energies were applied to the successful discharge of his duty. i must speak in corresponding terms of lieutenant-general sir de lacy evans, who likewise conducted his division to my perfect satisfaction, and exhibited equal coolness and judgment in carrying out a most difficult operation. his royal highness the duke of cambridge brought his division into action in support of the light division with great ability, and had for the first time an opportunity of showing the enemy his devotion to her majesty, and to the profession of which he is so distinguished a member. my best thanks are due to lieutenant-general sir r. england, lieutenant-general the honourable sir george cathcart, and lieutenant-general the earl of lucan, for their cordial assistance wherever it could be afforded; and i feel it my duty especially to recommend to your grace's notice the distinguished conduct of major-general bentinck, major-general sir colin campbell, major-general pennefather, major-general codrington, brigadier-general adams, and brigadier-general buller. in the affair of the previous day, major-general the earl of cardigan exhibited the utmost spirit and coolness, and kept his brigade under perfect command. the manner in which brigadier-general strangways directed the artillery, and exerted himself to bring it forward, met my entire satisfaction. lieutenant-general sir john burgoyne was constantly by my side, and rendered me, by his counsel and advice, the most valuable assistance; and the commanding royal engineer, brigadier-general tylden, was always at hand to carry out any service i might direct him to undertake. i deeply regret to say that he has since fallen a victim to cholera, as has major wellesley, who was present in the affair of the previous day, notwithstanding that he was then suffering from serious illness. he had, during the illness of major-general lord de ros, acted for him in the most efficient manner. i cannot speak too highly of brigadier-general estcourt, adjutant-general, or of brigadier-general airey, who, in the short time he has conducted the duties of the quartermaster-general, has displayed the greatest ability as well as aptitude for the office. i am much indebted to my military secretary, lieutenant-colonel steele, major lord burghersh, and the officers of my personal staff, for the zeal, intelligence, and gallantry they all, without exception, displayed. lieutenant derriman, r.n., the commander of the _caradoc_, accompanied me during the whole of the operation, and rendered me an essential service by a close observation of the enemy's movements, which his practised eye enabled him accurately to watch. i lament to say that lieutenant-colonel lagondie, who was attached to my head-quarters by the emperor of the french, fell into the enemy's hands on the th, on his return from prince napoleon's division, where he had obligingly gone at my request, with a communication to his imperial highness. this misfortune is deeply regretted, both by myself and the officers of my personal staff. the other officer placed with me under similar circumstances, major vico, afforded me all the assistance in his power, sparing no exertion to be of use. i cannot omit to make known to your grace the cheerfulness with which the regimental officers of the army have submitted to most unusual privations. my anxiety to bring into the country every cavalry and infantry soldier who was available prevented me from embarking their baggage animals, and these officers have with them at this moment nothing but what they can carry, and they, equally with the men, are without tents or covering of any kind. i have not heard a single murmur. all seem impressed with the necessity of the arrangement, and they feel, i trust, satisfied that i shall bring up their bât horses at the earliest moment. the conduct of the troops has been admirable. when it is considered that they have suffered severely from sickness during the last two months; that since they landed in the crimea they have been exposed to the extremes of wet, cold, and heat; that the daily toil to provide themselves with water has been excessive, and that they have been pursued by cholera to the very battle-field, i do not go beyond the truth in declaring that they merit the highest commendation. in the ardour of attack they forgot all they had endured, and displayed that high courage, that gallant spirit for which the british soldier is ever distinguished and under the heaviest fire they maintained the same determination to conquer, as they had exhibited before they went into action. i should be wanting in my duty, my lord duke, if i did not express to your grace, in the most earnest manner, my deep feeling of gratitude to the officers and men of the royal navy for the invaluable assistance they afforded the army upon this as on every occasion where it could be brought to bear upon our operations. they watched the progress of the day with the most intense anxiety; and as the best way of evincing their participation in our success, and their sympathy in the sufferings of the wounded, they never ceased, from the close of the battle till we left the ground this morning, to provide for the sick and wounded, and to carry them down to the beach; a labour in which some of the officers even volunteered to participate, an act which i shall never cease to recollect with the warmest thankfulness. i mention no names, fearing i might omit some who ought to be spoken of; but none who were associated with us spared any exertion they could apply to so sacred a duty. sir edmund lyons, who had charge of the whole, was, as always, most prominent in rendering assistance and providing for emergencies. i enclose the return of killed and wounded. it is, i lament to say, very large; but i hope, all circumstances considered, that it will be felt that no life was unnecessarily exposed, and that such an advantage could not be achieved without a considerable sacrifice. i cannot venture to estimate the amount of the russian loss. i believe it to have been great, and such is the report in the country. the number of prisoners who are not hurt is small, but the wounded amount to or . two general officers, major-generals karganoff and shokanoff, fell into our hands. the former is very badly wounded. i will not attempt to describe the movements of the french army--that will be done by an abler hand; but it is due to them, to say that their operations were eminently successful, and that under the guidance of their distinguished commander, marshal st. arnaud, they manifested the utmost gallantry, the greatest ardour for the attack, and the high military qualities for which they are so famed. this despatch will be delivered to your grace by major lord burghersh, who is capable of affording you the fullest information, and whom i beg to recommend to your especial notice. i have, &c., raglan. marshal de st. arnaud's despatch as to the alma. field of battle of alma, _september , _. sire,--the cannon of your majesty has spoken; we have gained a complete victory. it is a glorious day, sire, to add to the military annals of france, and your majesty will have one name more to add to the victories which adorn the flags of the french army. the russians had yesterday assembled all their forces, and collected all their means to oppose the passage of the alma. prince menschikoff commanded in person. all the heights were crowned with redoubts and formidable batteries. the russian army reckoned about , bayonets, from all points of the crimea. in the morning there arrived from theodosia , cavalry and pieces of heavy and field artillery. from the heights which they occupied, the russians could count our men man by man, from the th to the moment when we arrived on the bulganak. on the th, from six o'clock in the morning, i carried into operation, with the division of general bosquet, reinforced by eight turkish battalions, a movement which turned the left of the russians and some of their batteries. general bosquet manoeuvred with as much intelligence as bravery. this movement decided the success of the day. i had arranged that the english should extend their left, in order at the same time to threaten the right of the russians, while i should occupy them in the centre; but their troops did not arrive until half-past ten. they bravely made up for this delay. at half-past twelve the line of the allied army, occupying an extent of more than a league, arrived on the alma, and was received by a terrible fire from the tirailleurs. in this movement the head of the column of general bosquet appeared on the heights, and i gave the signal for a general attack. the alma was crossed at double-quick time. prince napoleon, at the head of his division, took possession of the large village of alma, under the fire of the russian batteries. the prince showed himself worthy of the great name he bears. we then arrived at the foot of the heights, under the fire of the russian batteries. there, sire, commenced a battle in earnest, along all the line--a battle with its episodes of brilliant feats of valour. your majesty may be proud of your soldiers: they have not degenerated: they are the soldiers of austerlitz and of jena. at half-past four the french army was everywhere victorious. all the positions had been carried at the point of the bayonet, to the cry of "vive l'empereur!" which resounded throughout the day. never was such enthusiasm seen; even the wounded rose from the ground to join in it. on our left the english met with large masses of the enemy, and with great difficulties, but everything was surmounted. the english attacked the russian positions in admirable order, under the fire of their cannon, carried them, and drove off the russians. the bravery of lord raglan rivals that of antiquity. in the midst of cannon and musket-shot, he displayed a calmness which never left him. the french lines formed on the heights, and the artillery opened its fire. then it was no longer a retreat, but a rout; the russians threw away their muskets and knapsacks in order to run the faster. if, sire, i had had cavalry, i should have obtained immense results, and menschikoff would no longer have had an army; but it was late, our troops were harassed, and the ammunition of the artillery was exhausted. at six o'clock in the evening, we encamped on the very bivouac of the russians. my tent is on the very spot where that of prince menschikoff stood in the morning, and who thought himself so sure of beating us that he left his carriage there. i have taken possession of it, with his pocket-book and correspondence, and shall take advantage of the valuable information it contains. the russian army will probably be able to rally two leagues from this, and i shall find it to-morrow on the katcha, but beaten and demoralized, while the allied army is full of ardour and enthusiasm. i have been compelled to remain here in order to send our wounded and those of the russians to constantinople, and to procure ammunition and provisions from the fleet. the english have had , men put _hors de combat_. the duke of cambridge is well: his division, and that of sir g. brown, were superb. i have to regret about , men _hors de combat_, three officers killed, fifty four wounded, sub-officers and soldiers killed, and , wounded. general canrobert, to whom is due in part the honour of the day, was slightly wounded by the splinters of a shell, which struck him in the breast and hand, but he is doing very well. general thomas, of the division of the prince, is seriously wounded by a ball in the abdomen. the russians have lost about , men. the field of battle is covered with their dead, and our field hospitals are full of their wounded. we have counted a proportion of seven russian dead bodies for one french. the russian artillery caused us loss, but ours is very superior to theirs. i shall all my life regret not having had with me my two regiments of african chasseurs. the zouaves were the admiration of both armies: they are the first soldiers in the world. accept, sire, the homage of my profound respect and of my entire devotedness. marshal r. de st. arnaud. french account of the first bombardment of sebastopol. from general canrobert. m. le marÉchal,--yesterday, at sunrise, we opened our fire in concert with the english army. matters were going on well, when the explosion of a battery powder magazine, unfortunately of considerable size, somewhat disturbed our attack. this explosion produced the greater effect from the number of the batteries in proximity to the spot where it occurred. the enemy took advantage of this incident to increase his fire, and the general in command of the artillery agreed with me, that we were under the necessity of suspending our fire in order to make our repairs, as well as to complete the system of attack towards our right by the construction of new batteries to approach those of the english army. this delay is certainly much to be regretted, but we are compelled to submit to it, and i am making every arrangement necessary for shortening it as much as possible. sebastopol has sustained the fire far better than was expected; the enclosed space, throughout its enormous development in a straight line, carrying all it can hold of heavy sea-guns, renders it capable of prolonging the contest. on the th, our troops took possession of the plateau that faces the point of attack, called the bastion du mât; they now occupy it. this evening we shall construct there the mask of a -gun battery, and, if possible, that of a second battery, on the extreme right, above the ravine. all our means of attack are concentrated on this bastion, and we shall, i trust, dismantle it rapidly, with the assistance of the english batteries that are battering its left front. yesterday, about ten in the morning, the allied fleets attacked the outer batteries of the place, but i have not yet received information that will enable me to give you an account of the results of this attack. the english batteries are in the best possible state: they have received nine new mortars, which will, it is supposed, produce great effect. yesterday there was an immense explosion in the battery surrounding the tower situate to the left of the place. it must have injured the enemy a great deal. since then this battery has fired but little, and this morning there were only two or three pieces able to fire. i have no precise news of the russian army. nothing tends to show that it has changed the positions it held, and in which it expected its reinforcements. i have received almost the whole of the reinforcements i expected in infantry from gallipoli and varna. general levaillant has just arrived with his staff, which raises to five divisions the effective force in infantry of the army that i have here under my orders. the sanitary state is highly satisfactory, the spirit of the troops excellent, and we are full of confidence. canrobert. lord raglan's balaklava despatch. lord raglan to the duke of newcastle. (_received november ._) before sebastopol, _october , _. my lord duke,--i have the honour to acquaint your grace that the enemy attacked the position in the front of balaklava at an early hour on the morning of the th instant. the low range of heights that runs across the plain at the bottom of which the town is placed, was protected by four small redoubts hastily constructed. three of these had guns in them, and on a higher hill, in front of the village of camara, in advance of our right flank, was established a work of somewhat more importance. these several redoubts were garrisoned by turkish troops, no other force being at my disposal for their occupation. the rd highlanders was the only british regiment in the plain, with the exception of a part of a battalion of detachments composed of weakly men, and a battery of artillery belonging to the third division; and on the heights behind our right were placed the marines, obligingly landed from the fleet by vice-admiral dundas. all these, including the turkish troops, were under the immediate orders of major-general sir colin campbell, whom i had taken from the first division with the rd. as soon as i was apprised of this movement of the enemy, i felt compelled to withdraw from before sebastopol the first and fourth divisions, commanded by lieutenant-generals his royal highness the duke of cambridge and the honourable sir george cathcart, and bring them down into the plain; and general canrobert subsequently reinforced these troops with the first division of french infantry and the chasseurs d'afrique. the enemy commenced their operation by attacking the work on our side of the village of camara, and, after very little resistance, carried it. they likewise got possession of the three others in contiguity to it, being opposed only in one, and that but for a very short space of time. the farthest of the three they did not retain, but the immediate abandonment of the others enabled them to take possession of the guns in them, amounting in the whole to seven. those in the three lesser forts were spiked by the one english artilleryman who was in each. the russian cavalry at once advanced, supported by artillery, in very great strength. one portion of them assailed the front and right flank of the rd, and were instantly driven back by the vigorous and steady fire of that distinguished regiment, under lieutenant-colonel ainslie. the other and larger mass turned towards her majesty's heavy cavalry, and afforded brigadier-general scarlett, under the guidance of lieutenant-general the earl of lucan, the opportunity of inflicting upon them a most signal defeat. the ground was very unfavourable for the attack of our dragoons, but no obstacle was sufficient to check their advance, and they charged into the russian column, which soon sought safety in flight, although far superior in numbers. the charge of this brigade was one of the most successful i ever witnessed, was never for a moment doubtful, and is in the highest degree creditable to brigadier-general scarlett and the officers and men engaged in it. as the enemy withdrew from the ground which they had momentarily occupied, i directed the cavalry, supported by the fourth division, under lieutenant-general sir george cathcart, to move forward and take advantage of any opportunity to regain the heights; and not having been able to accomplish this immediately, and it appearing that an attempt was making to remove the captured guns, the earl of lucan was desired to advance rapidly, follow the enemy in their retreat, and try to prevent them from effecting their object. in the meanwhile the russians had time to re-form on their own ground, with artillery in front and upon their flanks. from some misconception of the instruction to advance, the lieutenant-general considered that he was bound to attack at all hazards, and he accordingly ordered major-general the earl of cardigan to move forward with the light brigade. this order was obeyed in the most spirited and gallant manner. lord cardigan charged with the utmost vigour; attacked a battery which was firing upon the advancing squadrons; and, having passed beyond it, engaged the russian cavalry in its rear; but there his troops were assailed by artillery and infantry, as well as cavalry, and necessarily retired, after having committed much havoc upon the enemy. they effected this movement without haste or confusion; but the loss they have sustained has, i deeply lament, been very severe in officers, men, and horses, only counterbalanced by the brilliancy of the attack, and the gallantry, order, and discipline which distinguished it, forming a striking contrast to the conduct of the enemy's cavalry, which had previously been engaged with the heavy brigade. the chasseurs d'afrique advanced on our left, and gallantly charged a russian battery, which checked its fire for a time, and thus rendered the british cavalry an essential service. i have the honour to enclose copies of sir colin campbell's and the earl of lucan's reports. i beg to draw your grace's attention to the terms in which sir colin campbell speaks of lieutenant-colonel ainslie, of the rd, and captain barker, of the royal artillery; and also to the praise bestowed by the earl of lucan on major-general the earl of cardigan and brigadier-general scarlett, which they most fully deserve. the earl of lucan not having sent me the names of the other officers who distinguished themselves, i propose to forward them by the next opportunity. the enemy made no further movement in advance, and at the close of the day the brigade of guards of the first division, and the fourth division, returned to their original encampment, as did the french troops, with the exception of one brigade of the first division, which general canrobert was so good as to leave in support of sir colin campbell. the remaining regiments of the highland brigade also remained in the valley. the fourth division had advanced close to the heights, and sir george cathcart caused one of the redoubts to be reoccupied by the turks, affording them his support, and he availed himself of the opportunity to assist with his riflemen in silencing two of the enemy's guns. the means of defending the extensive position which had been occupied by the turkish troops in the morning having proved wholly inadequate, i deemed it necessary, in concurrence with general canrobert, to withdraw from the lower range of heights, and to concentrate our force, which will be increased by a considerable body of seamen, to be landed from the ships under the authority of admiral dundas, immediately in front of the narrow valley leading into balaklava, and upon the precipitous heights on our right, thus affording a narrower line of defence. i have, &c., raglan. lord raglan at inkerman, nov. . lord raglan to the duke of newcastle. (_received november ._) before sebastopol, _november , _. my lord duke,--i have the honour to report to your grace that the army under my command, powerfully aided by the corps of observation of the french army, under the command of that distinguished officer, general bosquet, effectually repulsed and defeated a most vigorous and determined attack of the enemy on our position overlooking the ruins of inkerman, on the morning of the th instant. in my letter to your grace of the rd, i informed you that the enemy had considerably increased their force in the valley of the tchernaya. the following day this augmentation was still further apparent, and large masses of troops had evidently arrived from the northward, and on two several occasions persons of distinguished rank were observed to have joined the russian camp. i have subsequently learnt that the th corps d'armée, conveyed in carriages of the country, and in the lightest possible order, had been brought from moldavia, and were to be immediately followed by the rd corps. it was therefore to be expected that an extensive movement would not be long deferred. accordingly, shortly before daylight on the th, strong columns of the enemy came upon the advanced pickets covering the right of the position. these pickets behaved with admirable gallantry, defending the ground foot by foot against the overwhelming numbers of the enemy, until the nd division, under major-general pennefather, with its field guns, which had immediately been got under arms, was placed in position. the light division, under lieutenant-general sir george brown, was also brought to the front without loss of time; the st brigade, under major-general codrington, occupying the long slopes to the left towards sebastopol, and protecting our right battery, and guarding against attack on that side, and the nd brigade, under brigadier-general buller, forming on the left of the nd division, with the th regiment, under lieutenant-colonel jeffreys, thrown in advance. the brigade of guards under his royal highness the duke of cambridge and major-general bentinck, proceeded likewise to the front, and took up most important ground to the extreme right on the alignement of the nd division, but separated from it by a deep and precipitous ravine, and posting its guns with those of the nd division. the th division, under lieutenant-general sir george cathcart, having been brought from their encampment, advanced to the front and right of the attack; the st brigade, under brigadier-general goldie, proceeded to the left of the inkerman road; the nd brigade, under brigadier-general torrens, to the right of it, and on the ridge overhanging the valley of the tchernaya. the rd division, under lieutenant-general sir richard england, occupied in part the ground vacated by the th division, and supported the light division by two regiments under brigadier sir john campbell, while brigadier-general eyre held the command of the troops in the trenches. the morning was extremely dark with a drizzling rain, rendering it almost impossible to discover anything beyond the flash and smoke of artillery and heavy musketry fire. it, however, soon became evident that the enemy, under cover of a vast cloud of skirmishers, supported by dense columns of infantry, had advanced numerous batteries of large calibre to the high ground to the left and front of the nd division, while powerful columns of infantry attacked with great vigour the brigade of guards. additional batteries of heavy artillery were also placed by the enemy on the slopes to our left; the guns in the field amounting in the whole to pieces, independently, however, of the ship guns and those in the works of sebastopol. protected by a tremendous fire of shot, shell, and grape, the russian columns advanced in great force, requiring every effort of gallantry on the part of our troops to resist them. at this time two battalions of french infantry, which had on the first notice been sent by general bosquet, joined our right, and very materially contributed to the successful resistance to the attack, cheering with our men, and charging the enemy down the hill with great loss. about the same time a determined assault was made on our extreme left, and for a moment the enemy possessed themselves of four of our guns, three of which were retaken by the th, while the fourth was speedily recaptured by the th regiment, under lieutenant-colonel egerton. in the opposite direction the brigade of guards, under his royal highness the duke of cambridge, was engaged in a severe conflict. the enemy, under the cover of thick brushwood, advanced in two heavy bodies, and assaulted with great determination a small redoubt which had been constructed for two guns but was not armed. the combat was most arduous, and the brigade, after displaying the utmost steadiness and gallantry, was obliged to retire before very superior numbers, until supported by a wing of the th regiment of the th division, when they again advanced and retook the redoubt. this ground was afterwards occupied in gallant style by french troops, and the guards speedily re-formed in the rear of the right flank of the nd division. in the meanwhile, lieutenant-general the honourable sir george cathcart, with a few companies of the th regiment, considering that he might make a strong impression by descending into the valley, and taking the enemy in flank, moved rapidly forward, but finding the heights above him in full occupation of the russians, he suddenly discovered that he was entangled with a superior force, and while attempting to withdraw his men, he received a mortal wound, shortly previous to which brigadier-general torrens, when leading the th, was likewise severely wounded. subsequently to this, the battle continued with unabated vigour and with no positive result, the enemy bringing upon our line not only the fire of all their field batteries, but those in front of the works of the place, and the ship guns, till the afternoon, when the symptoms of giving way first became apparent; and shortly after, although the fire did not cease, the retreat became general, and heavy masses were observed retiring over the bridge of the inkerman, and ascending the opposite heights, abandoning on the field of battle , or , dead or wounded, multitudes of the latter having already been carried off by them. i never before witnessed such a spectacle as the field presented, but upon this i will not dwell. having submitted to your grace this imperfect description of this most severe battle, i have still two duties to discharge, the one most gratifying, and the last most painful to my feelings. i have the greatest satisfaction in drawing your grace's attention to the brilliant conduct of the allied troops. french and english vied with each other in displaying their gallantry and manifesting their zealous devotion to duty, notwithstanding that they had to contend against an infinitely superior force, and were exposed for many hours to a most galling fire. it should be borne in mind that they have daily for several weeks undergone the most constant labour, and that many of them passed the previous night in the trenches. i will not attempt to enter into the details of the movements of the french troops, lest i should not state them correctly; but i am proud of the opportunity of bearing testimony to their valour and energetic services, and of paying a tribute of admiration to the distinguished conduct of their immediate commander, general bosquet, while it is in the highest degree pleasing to me to place upon record my deep sense of the valuable assistance i received from the commander-in-chief, general canrobert, who was himself on the ground and in constant communication with me, and whose cordial co-operation on all occasions i cannot too highly extol. your grace will recollect that he was wounded at the alma. he was again wounded on the th, but i should hope that he will not long feel the effects of it. i will in a subsequent despatch lay before your grace the names of the officers whose services have been brought to my notice. i will not detain the mail for that purpose now, but i cannot delay to report the admirable behaviour of lieutenant-general sir george brown, who was unfortunately shot through the arm, but is doing well; of lieutenant-general his royal highness the duke of cambridge, who particularly distinguished himself; and of major-general pennefather, in command of the second division, which received the first attack, and gallantly maintained itself under the greatest difficulties throughout this protracted conflict; of major-general bentinck, who is severely wounded; major-general codrington, brigadier-general adams, and brigadier-general torrens, who are severely wounded; and brigadier-general buller, who is also wounded, but not so seriously. i must likewise express my obligations to lieutenant-general sir richard england for the excellent disposition he made of his division, and the assistance he rendered to the left of the light division, where brigadier-general sir john campbell was judiciously placed, and effectively supported major-general codrington; and i have great pleasure in stating that brigadier-general eyre was employed in the important duty of guarding the trenches from any assault from the town. lieutenant-general sir de lacy evans, who had been obliged by severe indisposition to go on board ship a few days previously, left his bed as soon as he received intelligence of the attack, and was promptly at his post, and though he did not feel well enough to take the command of the division out of the hands of major-general pennefather, he did not fail to give him his best advice and assistance. it is deeply distressing to me to have to submit to your grace the list of the killed, wounded, and missing on this memorable occasion. it is, indeed, heavy; and very many valuable officers and men have been lost to her majesty's service. among the killed your grace will find the names of lieutenant-general the honourable sir g. cathcart, brigadier-general strangways, and brigadier-general goldie. of the services of the first it is almost unnecessary to speak. they are known throughout the british empire, and have within a short space of time been brought conspicuously before the country by his achievements at the cape of good hope, whence he had only just returned when he was ordered to this army. by his death her majesty has been deprived of a most devoted servant, an officer of the highest merit, while i personally have to deplore the loss of an attached and faithful friend. brigadier-general strangways was known to have distinguished himself in early life, and in mature age, throughout a long service, he maintained the same character. the mode in which he had conducted the command of the artillery, since it was placed in his hands by the departure through illness of major-general cator, is entitled to my entire approbation, and was equally agreeable to those who were confided to his care. brigadier-general goldie was an officer of considerable promise, and gave great satisfaction to all under whom he has served. it is difficult to arrive at any positive conclusion as to the actual numbers brought into the field by the enemy. the configuration of the ground did not admit of any great development of their force, the attack consisting of a system of repeated assaults in heavy masses of columns; but judging from the numbers that were seen in the plains after they had withdrawn in retreat, i am led to suppose that they could not have been less than , men. their loss was excessive, and it is calculated that they left on the field near , dead, and that their casualties amount in the whole, in killed, wounded, and prisoners, to not less than , . your grace will be surprised to learn that the number of british troops actually engaged little exceeded , men, while those of general bosquet's division only amounted to , , the remaining available french troops on the spot having been kept in reserve. i ought to mention that while the enemy was attacking our right, they assailed the left of the french trenches, and actually got into two of their batteries; but they were quickly driven out in the most gallant manner with considerable loss, and hotly pursued to the very walls of sebastopol. i have, &c., raglan. the battle of inkerman. head-quarters before sebastopol, _november , _. m. le marÉchal,--i have the honour to confirm my telegraphic despatch of the th of november, couched in these terms:--"the russian army, increased by reinforcements from the danube, and the reserves in the southern provinces, and animated by the presence of the grand dukes michael and nicholas, yesterday attacked the right of the english position before the place. the english army sustained the combat with the most remarkable solidity. i caused it to be supported by a portion of the bosquet division, which fought with admirable vigour, and by the troops which were the most easily available. the enemy, more numerous than we were, beat a retreat with enormous losses, estimated at from , to , men. this obstinate struggle lasted the whole of the day. on my left general forey had, at the same time, to repulse a sortie of the garrison. the troops, energetically led on by him, drove the enemy from the place, with the loss of , men. this brilliant day, which was not concluded without loss to the allies, does the greatest honour to our arms." the action, of which the above telegraphic despatch forms the summary, was most animated and warmly contested. at the first shot, the deserters who came to us revealed the real situation of the russian army in regard to numbers, and enabled us to calculate the reinforcements it had successively received since the battle of the alma. they are-- st contingent, from the coast of asia, kertsch, and kaffa; nd, six battalions and detachments of marines from nicolaieff; rd, four battalions of cossacks from the black sea; th, a great portion of the army of the danube; and the tenth, eleventh, and twelfth divisions of infantry forming the fourth corps, commanded by general dannenberg. these three divisions were transported by express, with their artillery, from odessa to simpheropol, in a few days. afterwards arrived the grand dukes michael and nicholas, whose presence could not fail to produce great excitement among this army, which forms, with the garrison of sebastopol, a total of at least , men. it was under these circumstances that , men of this army attacked by surprise the heights of inkerman, which the english army could not occupy with a sufficient force. only , english took part in the action, the rest being engaged in the siege works. they valiantly sustained the attack until the moment when general bosquet, arriving with a portion of his division, was able to render such assistance as to insure their success. one does not know which to praise the most--the energetic solidity with which our allies for a long time faced the storm, or the intelligent vigour which general bosquet (who led a portion of the brigades bourbaki and d'autemarre) displayed in attacking the enemy, who rushed upon their right. the third regiment of zouaves, under the chiefs of battalion, montandon and dubos, supported, in the most striking manner, the ancient reputation of that force. the algerian riflemen (colonel de wimpfen), a battalion of the th light (commander vaissier), and the th of the line (colonel de camos), rivalled each other in ardour. three charges were made with the bayonet, and it was only after the third charge that the enemy surrendered the ground, which was covered with his dead and wounded. the russian field artillery and artillery of position was much superior in number, and occupied a commanding position. two horse batteries, commanded by m. de la boussinière, and a battery of the second division of infantry, commanded by m. barval (the whole under the orders of colonel forgeot), sustained the struggle during the whole day, in conjunction with the english artillery. the enemy decided upon beating a retreat, leaving more than , dead, a great number of wounded, a few hundred prisoners, and also several caissons of artillery, in the possession of the allies. his losses, altogether, cannot be estimated at less than from , to , men. while these events were being accomplished on the right, about , men made a vigorous sortie against our attacks to the left, favoured by a thick fog and by ravines which facilitated their approach. the troops on duty in the trench, under the orders of general de la motterouge, marched upon the enemy, who had already invaded two of our batteries, and repulsed him, killing more than men within the batteries. the general of division, forey, commanding the siege corps, by rapid and skilful arrangements, arrived with the troops of the fourth division to support the guards of the trenches, and marched himself at the head of the fifth battalion of foot chasseurs. the russians, beaten along the whole of their line, were retreating precipitately upon the place with considerable losses, when general de lourmel, seeing them fly before him, and urged by a chivalric courage, dashed in pursuit of them up to the walls of the place, where he fell severely wounded. general forey had much difficulty in withdrawing him from the advanced position to which his brigade had been hurried by excess of bravery. the brigade d'aurelle, which had taken up an excellent position to the left, protected this retreat, which was effected under the fire of the place with considerable loss. colonel niol, of the th of the line, who lost his two chiefs of battalion, took the command of the brigade, whose conduct was admirably energetic. the enemy, in this sortie, lost , men in killed, wounded, or prisoners, and he received a very considerable moral and material check. the battle of inkerman, and the combat sustained by the siege corps, were glorious for our arms, and have increased the moral power which the allied armies have attained; but we have suffered losses to be deplored. they amount, for the english army, to , men killed or wounded, among whom are seven generals, three of whom were killed; and, for the french army, to , killed or wounded. we bitterly lament the loss of general de lourmel, who died from his wound, and whose brilliant military qualities and conduct in private life seemed to promise future renown. i also have the regret to announce to you the death of colonel de camos, of the th of the line, killed at the head of his troops at the moment when engaged with the enemy. the vigour of the allied troops, subjected to the double trials of a siege, the difficulties of which are without a precedent, and to actions of war which recall the greatest struggles of our military history, cannot be too highly eulogized. i enclose my order of the day to the army for the battle of the th. accept, &c., canrobert, general-in-chief. assault on redan, june . lord raglan to lord panmure. (_received july ._) before sebastopol, _june , _. my lord,--i informed your lordship on the th that new batteries had been completed, and that in consequence the allies would be enabled to resume the offensive against sebastopol with the utmost vigour. accordingly, on the th, at daylight, a very heavy fire was opened from all the batteries in the english and french trenches, and maintained throughout the day, and the effect produced appeared so satisfactory that it was determined that the french should attack the malakoff works the next morning, and that the english should assail the redan as soon after as i might consider it desirable. it was at first proposed that the artillery fire should be resumed on the morning of the th, and should be kept up for about two hours, for the purpose of destroying any works the enemy might have thrown up in the night, and of opening passages through the abattis that covered the redan; but on the evening of the th it was intimated to me by general pelissier that he had determined, upon further consideration, that the attack by his troops should take place at three the following morning. the french, therefore, commenced their operations as day broke, and, as their several columns came within range of the enemy's fire, they encountered the most serious opposition, both from musketry and the guns in the works, which had been silenced the previous evening; and observing this, i was induced at once to order our columns to move out of the trenches upon the redan. it had been arranged that detachments from the light, nd, and th divisions, which i placed for the occasion under the command of lieutenant-general sir g. brown, should be formed into three columns; that the right one should attack the left face of the redan between the flanking batteries; that the centre should advance upon the salient angle; and that the left should move upon the re-entering angle formed by the right face and flank of the work; the first and last preceding the centre column. the flank columns at once obeyed the signal to advance, preceded by covering parties of the rifle brigade, and by sailors carrying ladders and soldiers carrying wool-bags; but they had no sooner shown themselves beyond the trenches than they were assailed by a most murderous fire of grape and musketry. those in advance were either killed or wounded, and the remainder found it impossible to proceed. i never before witnessed such a continued and heavy fire of grape combined with musketry from the enemy's works, which appeared to be fully manned; and the long list of killed and wounded in the light and th divisions, and the seamen of the naval brigade, under captain peel, who was unfortunately wounded, though not severely, will show that a very large proportion of those that went forward fell. major-general sir john campbell, who led the left attack, and colonel shadforth, of the th, who commanded the storming party under his direction, were both killed, as was also colonel yea, of the royal fusiliers, who led the right column. i cannot say too much in praise of these officers. major-general sir j. campbell had commanded the th division from the period of the battle of inkerman, till the arrival very recently of lieutenant-general bentinck. he had devoted himself to his duty without any intermission, and had acquired the confidence and respect of all; i most deeply lament his loss. colonel shadforth had maintained the efficiency of his regiment by constant attention to all the details of his command, and colonel yea was not only distinguished for his gallantry, but had exercised his control of the royal fusiliers in such a manner as to win the affections of the soldiers under his orders, and to secure to them every comfort and accommodation which his personal exertions could procure for them. i shall not be able to send your lordship correct lists of the killed and wounded by this opportunity, but i will forward them by telegraph as soon as they are made out. i have not any definite information upon the movements of the french columns, and the atmosphere became so obscured by the smoke from the guns and musketry, that it was not possible by personal observation to ascertain their progress, though i was particularly well situated for the purpose; but i understand that their left column, under general d'autemarre, passed the advanced works of the enemy, and threatened the gorge of the malakoff tower; and that the two other columns, under generals mayran and brunet, who both, i regret to say, were killed, met with obstacles equal to those we encountered, and were obliged in consequence to abandon the attack. the superiority of our fire on the day we opened, led both general pelissier and myself, and the officers of the artillery and engineers of the two services, and the armies in general, to conclude that the russian artillery fire was, in a great measure, subdued, and that the operation we projected could be undertaken with every prospect of success. the result has shown that the resources of the enemy were not exhausted, and that they had still the power, either from their ships or their batteries, to bring an overwhelming fire upon their assailants. whilst the direct attack on the redan was proceeding, lieutenant-general sir r. england was directed to send one of the brigades of the rd division, under the command of major-general barnard, down the woronzow ravine, with a view to give support to the attacking columns on his right; and the other brigade, under major-general eyre, still further to the left, to threaten the works at the head of the dockyard creek. i have not yet received their reports, and shall not be able to send them to your lordship to-day; but general eyre was very seriously engaged, and he himself wounded, though i am happy to say not severely, and he possessed himself of a churchyard, which the enemy had hitherto carefully watched, and some houses within the place; but as the town front was not attacked, it became necessary to withdraw his brigade at night. i shall make a special report upon this by the next mail, and i shall avail myself of the same opportunity to name to you the officers who have been particularly mentioned to me. i am concerned to have to inform you, that lieutenant-colonel tylden, of the royal engineers, whose services i have had the greatest pleasure in bringing so frequently to your lordship's notice, is very severely wounded. the account i received of him this morning is upon the whole satisfactory, and i entertain strong hopes that his valuable life will be preserved. i feel greatly indebted to sir g. brown for the manner in which he conducted the duties i entrusted to him; and my warmest acknowledgments are due to major-general harry jones, not only for his valuable assistance on the present occasion, but for the able, zealous, and energetic manner in which he has conducted the siege operations since he assumed the command of the royal engineers. he received a wound from a grape-shot in the forehead yesterday, which i trust will not prove serious. i brought up the st division from the vicinity of balaklava as a reserve, and i shall retain them on these heights. the sardinian troops, under general la marmora, and the turkish troops, under omer pasha, crossed the tchernaya on the th instant, and occupy positions in front of chorgouna. they have not come in contact with any large body of the enemy. i have, &c., raglan. general pelissier's despatch. head-quarters before sebastopol, _june _. monsieur le marÉchal,--since the capture of the external works on the th of june i had rapidly made every arrangement to make them the basis of our attack against the _enceinte_ itself of karabelnaia. we armed them with powerful artillery; the russian communications and _place d'armes_ were turned to our own use; the ground plan of attack studied in detail; the allied armies had their respective tasks allotted to them. the english were to storm the great redan, and we were to carry the malakoff tower, the redan of the careening bay, and the intrenchments which cover that extremity of the faubourg. it is superfluous, m. le maréchal, to point out to your excellency what would have been the result of such an operation if it had succeeded. since our last successes the attitude of the enemy and the enthusiasm of our troops promised victory. there was no time to be lost. in concert with lord raglan, on the th we poured a crushing fire into sebastopol, especially into the works we intended storming. at an early hour the enemy ceased replying from the malakoff and from the redan. it is probable they were economizing their batteries and fire, and that they did not suffer so much from the effects of our artillery as we were led to presume. however that may be, the superiority of our guns confirmed us in our plan for making an assault on the th, and on the night before we made all the necessary arrangements for a general movement on the morrow. three divisions were to take part in the combat--the divisions of mayran and brunet, of the nd corps; the division d'autemarre of the st. the division of the imperial guard formed the reserve. mayran's division had the right attack, and was to carry the intrenchments which extend from the battery of the point to the redan of careening bay. brunet's division was to turn the malakoff on the right. d'autemarre's division was to manoeuvre on the left to carry that important work. general mayran's task was a difficult one. his first brigade, commanded by colonel saurin, of the rd zouaves, was to advance from the ravine of careening bay as far as the aqueduct, to creep along the left hill side of the ravine, avoiding as much as possible the fire of the enemy's lines, and to turn the battery of the point by the gorge. the second brigade, commanded by general de failly, was to make an attempt on the right of the redan of careening bay. they were provided with everything necessary to scale the works. the special reserve of this division consisted of two battalions of the st regiment of the voltigeurs of the guard. all these troops were ready at their post at an early hour. brunet's division had one of its brigades in advance and to the right of the brancion redoubt (mamelon), the other in the parallel in the rear and to the right of that redoubt. a similar arrangement was made as regards d'autemarre's division--niol's brigade in advance and to the left of the mamelon; breton's brigade in the parallel in the rear. two batteries of artillery, which could be served _à la bricole_, were placed behind the brancion redoubt (mamelon), ready to occupy the enemy's positions in case we succeeded in carrying them. the division of the imperial guard, forming the general reserve of the three attacks, was drawn up in a body in the rear of the victoria redoubt. i selected the lancaster battery for my post, from which i was to give the signal by star rockets for the general advance. notwithstanding great difficulties of ground, notwithstanding the obstacles accumulated by the enemy, and although the russians, evidently informed of our plans, were on their guard and ready to repel an attack, i am inclined to think that if the attack could have been general and instantaneous on the whole extent of the line--if there had been a simultaneous action and the efforts of our brave troops had been united--the object would have been achieved. unhappily, it was not so, and an inconceivable fatality caused us to fail. i was still more than , mètres from the place whence i was to give the signal, when a violent fire of musketry, intermixed with grape, apprised me that the combat had commenced seriously on the right. in fact, a little before a.m., general mayran fancied he recognized my signal in a shell with a blazing fuse sent up from the brancion redoubt. it was in vain that he was informed of his mistake. this brave and unfortunate general gave the order for the attack. the saurin and de failly columns immediately rushed forward. the first rush was magnificent, but scarcely were these heads of columns in march when a shower of balls and grape was poured in upon them. this crushing fire came not only from the works which we wished to carry, but also from the enemy's steamers, which came up at full steam and manoeuvred with great skill and effect. we, however, caused them some damage. this prodigious fire stopped the efforts of our troops. it became impossible for our soldiers to advance, but not a man retired one step. it was at this moment that general mayran, already hit in two places, was knocked down by a grapeshot, and was compelled to resign the command of his division. all this was the work of a moment, and general mayran was already carried off the field of battle when i sent up the signal from the lancaster battery. the other troops then advanced to support the premature movement of the right division. that valiant division, for a moment disconcerted by the loss of its general, promptly rallied at the voice of general de failly. the troops engaged, supported by the second battalion of the th of the line, and by a battalion of the voltigeurs of the guard, under the orders of the brave colonel boudville, hold a footing in the bend of the ground where the general places them, and boldly maintain their position there. informed, however, of this position, which might become critical, i ordered general regnault de st. jean d'angely to send four battalions of the voltigeurs of the guard, taken from the general reserve, to the support of that division. generals mellinet and uhrich marched with that fine body of men, rallied the stragglers in the ravine of careening bay, and gave a solid support to general de failly, by occupying the bottom of the ravine. general mellinet in person advanced to the right of general de failly at the head of a battalion of grenadiers, placed the evening before to defend the ravine, and was of great service to him by covering his right. the attack on the centre had not a better fate. general brunet had not yet completed all his arrangements when the signal-rockets were fired. the whole of the right was already prematurely engaged for more than twenty to twenty-five minutes. the troops, nevertheless, resolutely advanced, but their valour was of no avail against the well-sustained fire of the russians and against unforeseen obstacles. at the very outset general brunet fell mortally wounded by a ball in the chest. the flag of the st was cut in two by a ball, but it is needless to add that its fragments were brought back by that gallant regiment. general lafont de villiers took the command of the division, and intrusted that of the troops engaged to colonel lorencez. the latter held firm while the remainder of the division occupied the trenches to provide against the eventualities of the combat. to the left, general d'autemarre could not go into action before brunet's division, nor could he explain the hasty fusillade he heard in the direction of careening bay; but at the signal agreed upon for the attack he threw forward with impetuosity the th chasseurs-à-pied and the first battalion of the th of the line, which, following the ridge of the karabelnaia ravine, arrived at the intrenchment which connects it with malakoff tower, scaled the intrenchment, and entered the _enceinte_ itself. the sappers of the engineers were already placing the scaling-ladders for the remainder of the th and th regiments, who were hurrying up by order of general d'autemarre to follow his gallant column. for an instant we believed in success. our eagles were planted on the russian works. unhappily, that hope was promptly dispelled. our allies had met with such obstacles in their attack on the grand redan, they had been received with such a fearful shower of grape, that, despite their well-known tenacity, they had already been obliged to beat a retreat. such was the spirit of our troops that, despite this circumstance, they would have pushed on and charged down upon the enemy, but the want of unity in the attack of our divisions permitted the russians to fall upon us with their reserves and with the artillery of the great redan; and the enemy did not lose a moment in advancing all the other reserves of the karabelnaia against our brave chasseurs-à-pied. before so imposing a force commandant garnier, of the th battalion, already struck by five balls, endeavoured, but in vain, to maintain the conquered ground. compelled to give way to numbers he re-crossed the intrenchments. general niol came up to support his brigade, reinforced by the th of the line. a new offensive movement was attempted to assure the success of the new effort, and on a message from general d'autemarre to the effect that his reserve was reduced to the th of the line, i sent him the regiment of zouaves of the guard; but on the arrival of those hardy veterans of our african campaigns, as the movement had no longer any desirable _ensemble_ for so vigorous a blow, with a single division without support either on the right or on the left, and cut up by the artillery of the redan, the attack upon which had been relinquished by our allies, i at once saw that all chance of success was over. another effort would only have led to useless bloodshed. it was half-past eight o'clock, and i ordered a general retreat to the trenches. this movement was carried out proudly, with order and coolness, and without the enemy following us on any point. a portion of the russian trenches remained even occupied by some of our men, who evacuated them gradually, without the enemy daring to turn their advantage to account against them. our losses have been great. we took care at the very commencement of the action to carry off most of our wounded. but a certain number of those glorious dead remained lying on the glacis or in the ditches of the place. the last duties were rendered to them the following day. besides general brunet and general mayran (who died during the night) we have to deplore the loss of an officer beloved and appreciated by the whole army, the young and brave lieutenant-colonel of artillery de laboursinière, killed while scaling the reverse of a trench obstructed by troops on his way from one of his batteries to the brancion redoubt. it is a great loss. in him were the germs of future promise. a number of brave superior officers have been wounded while showing the most noble example. the officers of the staff and of the troops worthily performed their duties, and the conduct of the men was admirable everywhere. we had officers killed, and taken prisoners; , non-commissioned officers and privates killed or missing. on the evening of the th, officers and , men went to the ambulances. many wounds, at first thought very serious, will ultimately prove not to be so. the bearers of these honourable scars will shortly rejoin their colours. these losses have not shaken either the ardour or the confidence of these valiant divisions. they only ask to make the enemy pay dearly for this day's work. the hope and the will to conquer are in every heart, and all count upon it that in the next struggle fortune will not play false to valour. pelissier, commander-in-chief. the battle of the tchernaya. head-quarters, before sebastopol, _august _. monsieur le marÉchal,--you will have learnt by my telegraphic despatches of yesterday and of the day before the general results of the battle of the tchernaya; to-day i send your excellency a detailed report of that battle, so glorious for our arms. for some days, although the enemy abstained from any apparent movement, certain indications made us suppose he would attack our lines on the tchernaya. you know those positions, which are excellent, and which are covered to the full extent by the tchernaya itself, and by a canal, which forms a second obstacle. the sardinian army occupies the whole of the right, opposite tchorgoun; the french troops guard the centre and the left, which joins after a declivity our plateaux of inkerman. independently of a few fords, which are bad enough, there are two bridges across the tchernaya and the canal. one, a little above tchorgoun, is under the guns of the piedmontese; the other, called traktir bridge, is below, and almost in the centre of the french positions. looking straight before one towards the other bank of the tchernaya, you behold to the right the heights of tchouliou, which, after extending themselves in undulating plateaux, fall somewhat abruptly towards the tchernaya below tchorgoun, opposite the piedmontese. these heights diminish opposite our centre, and starting from that point to the rocky sides of the mackenzie plateaux, there is a plain about three or four kilomètres in width. it is by that plain that the mackenzie road leads across the tchernaya at traktir bridge, and, after passing through our pontoons, leads into the balaklava plain. a strict watch was kept all along our lines--the turks, who occupy the hilly grounds of balaklava, were on the alert, and watched alsou; and general d'allonville, also put on his guard, doubled his vigilance in the high valley of baidar. my mind was quite at rest, moreover, as regards the extreme right; it is one of those mountainous regions where it is impossible to manoeuvre large bodies of men. the enemy could only make false demonstrations there--in fact, that is what occurred. in the night between the th and th of august, general d'allonville notified that he had troops opposite him; but his attitude imposed upon the enemy, who attempted nothing on that side, and dared not attack him. during this time, the main body of the russian troops, which had descended from the mackenzie heights with the intention of debouching near ai todor, advanced, favoured by night, on the tchernaya; to the right, the th, th, and th divisions crossed the plain; and to the left, the th division; a portion of the th and the th followed the plateau of tchouliou. a strong body of cavalry and pieces of artillery supported the infantry. a little before daybreak the advanced posts of the sardinian army, placed as vedettes as far as the heights of tchouliou, fell back, and announced that the enemy was advancing in considerable force. shortly afterwards, in fact, the russians lined the heights of the right bank of the tchernaya with heavy guns (_pièces de position_), and opened fire on us. general herbillon, who commanded the french troops on this point, had made his arrangements for battle. to the right of the traktir road, faucheux's division, with the rd battery of the th artillery; in the centre, his own division, with the th company of the th; to the left, camou's division, with the th battery of the th. on his side, general della marmora had ranged his troops in order of battle. at the same time, general morris's fine division of chasseurs d'afrique, speedily joined by general scarlett's numerous and valiant english cavalry, took up a position behind the hills of kamara and traktir. this cavalry was to take the enemy in flank, in case he should succeed in forcing a passage by one of the three outlets of tchorgoun or traktir, or at the incline to the left of general camou. colonel forgeot, in command of the artillery of the tchernaya lines, kept six batteries of horse artillery, two of which belonged to the imperial guard, ready to act as a reserve. six turkish battalions of osman pasha's army, led by sefer pasha, came to lend us their assistance. finally, i ordered forward levaillant's division of the st corps, dulac's division of the nd corps, and the imperial guard, comprising reserves capable of remedying the most serious _contretemps_. the thick mist which covered the depths of the tchernaya, and the smoke of the cannonade which had just commenced, prevented us distinguishing against which particular point the chief effort of the enemy would be directed; when, on our extreme left, the th russian division came tilt against camou's division. received by the th of the line, the rd zouaves, who charged them with the bayonet, and by the nd, which took them in flank, the enemy's columns were compelled to make a demivolte to recross the canal, and could only escape the fire of our artillery by getting out of range to rally. that division did not appear again during the day. in the centre, the struggle was longer and more desperate. the enemy had sent two divisions (the th supported by the th) against traktir bridge. many of their columns rushed at once upon the bridge, and the temporary passages they constructed with ladders, pontoons, and madriers. they then crossed the tchernaya, the trench of our lines, and advanced bravely on our positions. but, assailed by generals faucheux and de failly, these columns were routed, and the men recrossed the bridge occupied by the th, and were pursued beyond it by the nd zouaves, the th of the line, and by a portion of the th battalion of chasseurs-à-pied. however, while the artillery was roaring on both sides, the russians re-formed their columns of attack, the mist had cleared, and their movements became distinctly visible. their th division reinforced the th, which had just been engaged; and the th was preparing to descend the heights of tchouliou to support these two first divisions. general herbillon then ordered general faucheux to be reinforced by cler's brigade, and gave the rd as a reserve to general de failly. colonel forgeot, moreover, placed four batteries of horse artillery in position, which gave him on this front a total of seven batteries to be brought to bear upon the assailing masses. the result was, that the second attempt of the russians, in spite of its energetic character, proved of no avail against us; and they were compelled to retreat with great loss. the th russian division, which had come down throwing out large bodies of riflemen as skirmishers, had no better success. received with great resolution by general cler's brigade, and by a half battery of the imperial guard, harassed on the left by the troops of tretti's division, who pressed it closely, that division was compelled to recross the tchernaya, and to fall back behind the batteries of position which lined the heights from which it had started. from this moment, a.m., the defeat of the enemy was inevitable. their long columns withdrew as fast as they could, under the protection of a considerable body of cavalry and artillery. for a moment i felt inclined to order a portion of the cavalry to charge and cut down the remnant of the th russian division, between the tchouliou and traktir bridges. with this object in view, i had prepared some squadrons of chasseurs d'afrique, who were joined by some sardinian squadrons, and by one of general scarlett's regiments, the th lancers (from india); but the retreat of the russians was so prompt, that we could only have made a small number of prisoners, and this fine cavalry might have been reached by some of the enemy's batteries still in position; i deemed it preferable not to expose it for so small a result. general della marmora did not, moreover, stand in need of this support boldly to retake the advanced positions which his small posts occupied on the heights of tchouliou. at three o'clock the whole of the enemy's army had disappeared. the division of the guard and dulac's division relieved the divisions engaged, as they stood in need of some rest. i sent back the first corps of devaillant's division, and the cavalry returned to its usual bivouac. this splendid action does the greatest honour to the infantry, to the horse artillery of the garde, to that of the reserve, and to the artillery of divisions. i will shortly ask your excellency to place before the emperor the names of those who have deserved rewards, and to submit to the approbation of his majesty those which i may have awarded in his name. our losses are doubtless to be regretted, but they are not in proportion to the results obtained, and to those we have inflicted upon the enemy. we have eight superior officers wounded, nine subaltern officers killed, and fifty-three wounded; non-commissioned officers and soldiers killed, missing, and , wounded. the russians have left prisoners in our hands. the number of their killed may be estimated at more than , , and of their wounded at more than , , of which number , men and thirty-eight officers have been taken to our ambulances. among the slain found by us are the bodies of two generals, whose names i have not been able to ascertain. the sardinian army, which fought so valiantly at our side, has about men _hors de combat_. it inflicted a much greater loss upon the enemy. one hundred prisoners, and about one hundred and fifty wounded, remain in its hands. i am sorry to announce to your excellency that general della marmora has informed me that count de montevecchio, whose character and talents he greatly appreciated, was killed gloriously at the head of his brigade. i must point out to your excellency the rapidity with which general scarlett's cavalry, placed at my disposal by general simpson, came up. the martial appearance of these magnificent squadrons betrayed an impatience which the happy and prompt result of the battle did not allow me to gratify. the english and sardinian position batteries, and the turkish battery which osman pasha had sent to alsou, fired with great precision and success. i thanked osman pasha for the promptitude with which he sent me six turkish battalions under sefer pasha (general koscielzki), four of which during the day occupied the passage near tchorgoun. nothing remarkable took place during the day on the sebastopol side. generals de salles and bosquet were, however, prepared to drive back with energy any attack of the besieged. i send your excellency with this report the copy of the plan for the battle of the th, found upon the body of a russian general, supposed to be general read, who commanded the enemy's right, and was especially entrusted with the attack on traktir bridge. i am, &c., &c., pelissier, commander-in-chief. * * * * * as this battle really decided the fall of the place, inasmuch as it enabled the allies to continue without fear of molestation the armament of those tremendous batteries which would have annihilated the whole forces of russia inside the walls of sebastopol, it may not be uninteresting to add the despatches of general simpson, who was late on the field, and of general della marmora, who took an active part in directing the operations of the sardinians on this memorable day. general simpson wrote as follows:-- before sebastopol, _august _. my lord,--in my despatch of the th instant, i informed your lordship that i had reason to believe that the russians would attempt by a vigorous attack to force us to raise the siege! this they endeavoured to do on the morning of the th, but the result was most glorious to those of the allied troops who had the good fortune to be engaged. the action commenced before daylight, by a heavy column of russians under the command of general liprandi, and composed of the th and th divisions, with the th and th divisions in reserve, attacking the advanced posts of the sardinians. the ground occupied by them is on commanding hills on the right of the position, on the left bank of the souhaia river, where it forms its junction with the tchernaya, with two advanced posts on the opposite side. these were held with very determined gallantry for a considerable time; but being separated from their supports by the river, and not having the protection of artillery, they were compelled to leave the most advanced one. about the same time, the th and th divisions, to which was added a portion of the th, advanced against the bridge of traktir, held by one battalion of french infantry of the line, who were for a short time obliged to yield and fall back upon the main supports; with these, however, they quickly retook the bridge at the point of the bayonet. again the russians attacked with persevering courage, and were enabled to follow up their advantage by gaining the heights which rise precipitously on each side of the road; their success was but momentary--they were driven back across the river, leaving the ground covered with dead and wounded. the russian general, in no way daunted by the failure of his two attempts, ordered a second column, of equal force to the first, to attack; they advanced with such impetuosity, covered by the fire of their numerous artillery, that a third time the bridge was carried, and the heights above it crowned, but they were again repulsed, and retired in great confusion into the plain, followed by the bayonets of our gallant allies. the general officer who commanded the russian column, and who is supposed to be general read, was killed, and in his possession was found the orders for the battle, signed by prince gortschakoff, who commanded in person. from these it would appear that it was a most determined attempt to force us to raise the siege. had they succeeded, balaklava was to have been attacked by one portion of their army, whilst the heights on which we now are were to have been stormed with the other; at the same time a vigorous sortie was to have been made from the town on the french works on our extreme left from the quarantine, and another on the works on our extreme right on mount sapoune. the action which i have endeavoured to describe is most glorious to the arms of the french and sardinian troops. to meet the force of the russians, the former had but , infantry and four batteries of artillery engaged; the latter had , men in position, , actually engaged, and twenty-four pieces of cannon. the russian force consisted of from , to , men, with pieces of artillery, and cavalry to the amount of , . this disparity of numbers will readily explain to your lordship the difficulty that would have been experienced had an attempt been made to follow up the advantage by a pursuit. the russian retreat, moreover, was protected by the fire from the heavy guns in position on the mackenzie heights. the loss sustained by the russians is estimated at between , and , men, including prisoners, whilst on the part of the allies it does not amount to more than , men. this brilliant affair has caused the greatest delight amongst the ranks of the allied army; and while it adds fresh lustre to the gallant achievements of the french arms, it is with the utmost pleasure that i have to record the intrepid conduct and gallant bearing of the sardinian troops, under general della marmora, who have for the first time met, conquered, and shed their blood against our common enemy, who is now disturbing the peace of europe. captain mowbray's battery of -pounder howitzers was placed in advance with the sardinian troops, and did most excellent service in preventing the advance of the enemy's artillery. our cavalry, under lieutenant-general sir j. scarlett, k.c.b., was placed in the plain of balaklava, prepared to take advantage of any circumstance that might present itself, but the opportunity did not arise for calling upon their services. i regret that i am unable to give a more detailed account of the part performed by the sardinians, as up to this time i have not received general della marmora's report. i have, &c., james simpson, general commanding. _lord panmure, &c. &c. &c._ before sebastopol, _august _. my lord,--in my despatch of the th instant i was unable to give as detailed an account of the part taken by the sardinian troops, in the battle of the tchernaya, as i could have wished. i have since received general la marmora's report, of which i have now the honour to send you a copy. the killed and wounded of the russian army exceed, if anything, the number i originally stated. an armistice was granted, to enable the enemy to bury the dead, and vast quantities were carried away. the fire from the batteries of the allies has been very effective, and the result attained has been sufficient to enable the works against the place to progress satisfactorily. i beg to enclose the list of casualties to the th instant. major m'gowan, rd highlanders, who was reported by me as missing in my despatch of the th august, i have since ascertained was attacked whilst posting his sentries in advance of the trenches, wounded severely, and made prisoner. i have, &c., james simpson, general commanding. _the lord panmure, &c. &c. &c._ [_translation._] sardinian army.--head-quarters of the expeditionary forces in the east, kadikoi, _august _. sir,--the interest which you are so kind as to evince in everything relating to the sardinian expeditionary army makes it imperative upon me to inform your excellency of the share taken by the troops under my command in the engagement on the tchernaya yesterday. upon receiving the report of colonel dessaint, attached to the french head-quarters, which you were good enough to communicate to me on the evening of the day before yesterday, and by which we were led to expect very shortly an attack on the line of the tchernaya, i at once gave orders that my troops should be under arms yesterday morning at an earlier hour than usual. at break of day our outposts stationed on the mamelon, which commands tchorgoun, were enveloped in a well-sustained fire of artillery, which proceeded from three batteries posted opposite to the breastworks by which our outposts were covered, and on the two mamelons further to the right, which form the two banks of the souliou. they were at the same time vigorously charged by three russian columns, which came on with fixed bayonets, and attacked our breastworks in front and rear. the men composing these columns carried ladders with them to scale the parapets. the preconcerted signal of alarm was immediately given; and the troops took up the positions which had been assigned to them in anticipation of this attack. i begged his excellency hosman pasha to bring up the turkish troops which were stationed furthest off; and i ordered the th battalion of riflemen (bersaglieri) to the support of our outposts, which only consisted of three companies, in order that these latter might be enabled to hold their ground as long as possible, and thus give us time to complete our arrangements. attacked in the rear by the enemy's artillery, and charged by three columns of infantry, the outposts, after an hour's firing, fell back, the reinforcements i had sent to them greatly facilitating their retreat. at the same time i made every effort to silence the enemy's guns. in this endeavour i was assisted by the turkish field-pieces from alsou, and by the english battery, with which you were good enough to reinforce us. several of the enemy's ammunition wagons exploded between seven and eight o'clock. in the meantime the russians had stationed fresh batteries near the centre of their position, and had opened a most effective fire of artillery on the tête-de-pont at traktir, and on the french positions on our left. a column of infantry, under cover of this fire, attacked the mamelon, which formed the extreme right of general d'herbillon's division. the first column had crossed the tchernaya, and surmounted the steep ascent of the mamelon in spite of the fire of the tirailleurs, when it was vigorously attacked by the french troops in support, and hurled back, broken and disordered, into the tchernaya. as i considered, from the subsequent dispositions of the enemy's forces, that he only intended to make a demonstration of artillery before our position, while he concentrated his infantry chiefly on the extreme right of the third division (faucher's), on which point a second column was now advancing, i ordered a portion of my th brigade, under the command of general mallard, to march to the support of the right wing of the french, and i posted two of our batteries in a position from whence they could maintain an oblique fire upon the russians. at the same time i requested the english cavalry to move down into the plain to be in readiness to charge. i had given similar orders to my own cavalry. when the soldiers of my th brigade arrived at the mamelon, they found that the enemy's attack had been already repulsed; but the fire of the two batteries of the nd division (trotti's) appeared to do great execution on the nd russian column, which, checked in front by the french troops, and harassed in the rear by the fire of our batteries and the musketry of our battalions, fell back in the greatest disorder. i then ordered some of our battalions to advance under cover of the riflemen (bersaglieri), but i was requested to countermand this movement. the enemy, repulsed at all points, commenced his retreat. one column, which appeared to me to consist of a division, retreated by the valley of the souliou. another division, the one which had attacked our outposts and the french right in the morning, fell back upon the zigzag mamelon; while a third division followed the road which leads to mackenzie's farm. i took advantage of this state of things to reoccupy with my troops the zigzag mamelon; in which design i succeeded perfectly, in spite of the imposing force which the enemy still retained on that point. in the meantime, three battalions of turkish troops advanced into the valley of tchorgoun, to replace the battalion of cialdini's brigade, which was occupying the heights of karlooka. later in the day i crossed the tchernaya with four squadrons, and marching in a parallel line with the zigzag mamelon, came upon the old russian redoubt, whence i could easily discern, at a little distance before us, a very fine array of regular cavalry, supported by horse artillery. it was distributed in twelve separate bodies, and must have been composed of at least fifty squadrons. this cavalry did not fall back on mackenzie road till the whole of the infantry and artillery had effected their retreat. the losses sustained by our troops, a portion only of whom was engaged, were very inconsiderable. they amount to about two hundred men placed _hors de combat_; and i impute the fact of our not having lost more men mainly to the works with which we fortified our position, and to the batteries of heavy guns which you were so obliging as to lend us for their defence. it is, however, my painful duty to announce to your excellency that count montevecchio, the general commanding the th brigade, is mortally wounded; a ball passed through his chest. pray accept, general, the assurance of my high consideration. the general commanding-in-chief the sardinian expeditionary forces, (signed) la marmora. hang _to his excellency the general commanding-in-chief the english army._ general simpson's despatch. general simpson to lord panmure. (_received september ._) before sebastopol, _september , _. my lord,--i had the honour to apprise your lordship in my despatch of the th instant, that the engineer and artillery officers of the allied armies had laid before general pelissier and myself a report recommending that the assault should be given on the th instant, after a heavy fire had been kept up for three days. this arrangement i agreed to, and i have to congratulate your lordship on the glorious results of the attack of yesterday, which has ended in the possession of the town, dockyards, and public buildings, and destruction of the last ships of the russian fleet in the black sea. three steamers alone remain, and the speedy capture or sinking of these must speedily follow. it was arranged that at twelve o'clock in the day the french columns of assault were to leave their trenches, and take possession of the malakoff and adjacent works. after their success had been assured, and they were fairly established, the redan was to be assaulted by the english; the bastion, central, and quarantine forts, on the left, were simultaneously to be attacked by the french. at the hour appointed our allies quitted their trenches, entered and carried the apparently impregnable defences of the malakoff with that impetuous valour which characterizes the french attack; and, having once obtained possession, they were never dislodged. the tricolor planted on the parapet was the signal for our troops to advance. the arrangements for the attack i entrusted to lieutenant-general sir william codrington, who carried out the details in concert with lieutenant-general markham. i determined that the second and light divisions should have the honour of the assault, from the circumstance of their having defended the batteries and approaches against the redan for so many months, and from the intimate knowledge they possessed of the ground. the fire of our artillery having made as much of a breach as possible in the salient of the redan, i decided that the columns of assault should be directed against that part, as being less exposed to the heavy flanking fire by which this work is protected. it was arranged between sir w. codrington and lieutenant-general markham that the assaulting column of , men should be formed by equal numbers of these two divisions, the column of the light division to lead, that of the nd to follow. they left the trenches at the preconcerted signal, and moved across the ground preceded by a covering party of men, and a ladder party of . on arriving at the crest of the ditch, and the ladders placed, the men immediately stormed the parapet of the redan, and penetrated into the salient angle. a most determined and bloody contest was here maintained for nearly an hour, and although supported to the utmost, and the greatest bravery displayed, it was found impossible to maintain the position. your lordship will perceive, by the long and sad list of casualties, with what gallantry and self-devotion the officers so nobly placed themselves at the head of their men during this sanguinary conflict. i feel myself unable to express in adequate terms the sense i entertain of the conduct and gallantry exhibited by the troops, though their devotion was not rewarded by the success which they so well merited; but to no one are my thanks more justly due than to colonel windham, who gallantly headed his column of attack, and was fortunate in entering, and remaining with the troops, during the contest. the trenches were, subsequently to this attack, so crowded with troops that i was unable to organize a second assault, which i intended to make with the highlanders under lieutenant-general sir colin campbell, who had hitherto formed the reserve, to be supported by the third division under major-general sir william eyre. i, therefore, sent for these officers, and arranged with them to renew the attack the following morning. the highland brigade occupied the advanced trenches during the night. about eleven o'clock the enemy commenced exploding their magazines, and sir colin campbell having ordered a small party to advance cautiously to examine the redan, found the work abandoned; he did not, however, deem it necessary to occupy it until daylight. the evacuation of the town by the enemy was made manifest during the night. great tires appeared in every part, accompanied by large explosions, under the cover of which the enemy succeeded in withdrawing their troops to the north side by means of the raft-bridge recently constructed, and which they afterwards disconnected and conveyed to the other side. their men-of-war were all sunk during the night. the boisterous weather rendered it altogether impossible for the admirals to fulfil their intention of bringing the broadsides of the allied fleets to bear upon the quarantine batteries; but an excellent effect was produced by the animated and well-directed fire of their mortar vessels, those of her majesty being under the direction of captain wilcox, of the _odin_, and captain digby, of the royal marine artillery. it now becomes my pleasing duty, my lord, to place on record the high sense i entertain of the conduct of this army since i have had the honour to command it. the hardships and privations endured by many of the regiments during a long winter campaign are too well known for me to comment upon. they were borne both by officers and men with a patience and unmurmuring endurance worthy of the highest praise, and which gained them the deserved applause and sympathy of their country. the naval brigade, under the command of captain the honourable henry keppel, aided by captain moorsom, and many gallant officers and seamen who have served the guns from the commencement of the siege, merit my warmest thanks. the prompt, hearty, and efficacious co-operation of her majesty's navy, commanded by rear-admiral sir edmund lyons, and ably seconded by sir houston stewart, has contributed most materially to the success of our undertaking; and here, perhaps, i may be permitted to say that, if it had pleased god that the successful result of this memorable siege should have been reported by my ever to be lamented predecessor in this command, i am sure that it would have been one of his most pleasing duties to express the deep sense which i know he entertained of the invaluable assistance and counsel he received on all occasions from sir edmund lyons. when at times affairs looked gloomy and success doubtful, he was at hand to cheer and encourage; and every assistance that could tend to advance the operations was given with the hearty goodwill which characterizes the british sailor. nothing has contributed more to the present undertaking than the cordial co-operation which has so happily existed from the first between the two services. i cannot sufficiently express my approbation of the conduct of the royal engineers under lieutenant-general sir harry jones, who has conducted the siege operations from the beginning of this year. for some time past he has been suffering on a bed of sickness, but the eventful hour of the assault would not permit him to remain absent; he was conveyed on a litter into the trenches to witness the completion of his arduous undertakings. my warmest thanks are due to the officers and soldiers of the royal artillery under the command of major-general sir r. dacres, who, during the arduous operations of this protracted siege, have so mainly contributed to its ultimate success. i must beg further to record my thanks for the cordial co-operation and assistance i have received in carrying out the details of the service from the chief of the staff, the adjutant and quartermaster-generals, and general staff, as well as generals commanding divisions and brigades of this army. i must reserve to myself, for the subject of a future despatch, bringing before your lordship the particular mention of officers of the various branches of this army, whom i shall beg to recommend to your favourable notice. i entrust this despatch to the care of brevet-major the honourable leicester curzon, who has been assistant military secretary to my noble predecessor and myself since the commencement of this war, and who will be able to give your lordship more minute details than the limits of a despatch will allow. i have, &c., james simpson, general commanding. final assault on sebastopol. marshal pelissier's report. head-quarters, sebastopol, _september , _. monsieur le marÉchal,--i shall have the honour to send you by next courier a detailed report of the attack which has rendered us masters of sebastopol. i can only give you to-day a rapid sketch of the principal features of this great military achievement. since the th of august, the day of the battle of the tchernaya, and despite the repeated notifications of a new and more formidable attack of the enemy on the positions which we occupy on that river, every preparation was being made for a decisive assault upon sebastopol itself. the artillery of the right attack opened already on the th of august a better sustained fire against the malakhoff and against the redan and careening bay, the neighbouring defences, and the roadstead, so as to allow the engineers to establish lodgments near the place, where the troops could throw themselves promptly on the _enceinte_. the engineers, moreover, prepared their scaling ladders, and all our batteries of the left opened a very violent fire against the town on the th of september. on their side the english kept up a heavy and incessant fire at the great redan and its redoubts, which they had to attack. everything being ready, i resolved, in concert with general simpson, to give the assault on the th of september, at noon. m'mahon's division was to storm the malakhoff works; dulac's division the redan of careening bay; and in the centre the division of la motterouge was to march against the curtain which unites those two extreme points. in addition to these troops i have given general bosquet general mellinet's division of the garde to support those three first divisions. so much for the right. in the centre the english were to attack the great redan by scaling it at its salient. on the left the first corps, to which general della marmora added a sardinian brigade, having at its head levaillant's division, was to penetrate by the central bastion into the interior of the town, and then turn the flagstaff bastion, to make a lodgment there. general de salles' instructions were only to follow up his attack if circumstances allowed him. moreover, the fleets of admiral lyons and bruat were to make a powerful diversion by attacking the quarantine, the roadstead, and sea fronts of the fortress. but the state of the sea, owing to a strong wind from the n.e., was such that neither the line-of-battle ships nor frigates could leave their anchorage. the english and french mortar-boats were, however, enabled to open fire. they fired in a remarkable manner, and did us good service. precisely at noon m'mahon, la motterouge's, and dulac's divisions, electrified by their leaders, threw themselves against the malakhoff, the curtain, and the little redan of careening bay. after surmounting unheard-of obstacles, and after a terrible hand-to-hand struggle, m'mahon's division succeeded in making good a footing in the front part of the malakhoff. the enemy kept up a hail of projectiles of every description upon our brave troops. the redan of careening bay, exposed to a cross fire and to the fire of the steamers, was obliged to be evacuated after having been occupied; but la motterouge's division held its ground on a portion of the curtain, and m'mahon's division gained ground in the malakhoff, where general bosquet poured in reserves, which i hastened up. the other attacks were subordinate to that of the malakhoff, the key of the defences of the whole place. from the brancion redoubt, where i had placed myself, i saw that the malakhoff was in our hands, and i gave the signal agreed upon with general simpson. the english at once advanced bravely against the salient of the great redan; they succeeded in lodging themselves there, and struggled for a long time to keep it; but, overwhelmed by the russian reserves, which never ceased advancing, and by a violent fire of artillery, they were forced to fall back into their parallels. at the same signal general de salles attacked the central bastion. levaillant's division had commenced establishing itself there, as also on the right lunette, when, after a sweeping fire of grape, such strong russian reinforcements came up, that our troops, decimated by the fire, and their officers _hors de combat_, were compelled to return to the _places d'armes_ they had started from. convinced that the capture of the malakhoff must decide the success, i prevented a renewal of the other attacks, which, by occupying the enemy on all the points of his vast _enceinte_, had already fulfilled their chief object, and i concentrated all my attention on the possession of the malakhoff, now completely in the power of general m'mahon. a critical moment was, however, at hand. general bosquet had just been struck by a large fragment of a shell, and i was obliged to give his command to general dulac. a powder magazine in the curtain near the malakhoff blew up, and made me fear the most serious consequences. the russians, hoping to profit by this accident, advanced in dense masses, and in three columns attacked the centre, left, and right of the malakhoff. but arrangements had already been made within the work. general m'mahon had daring troops, who feared nothing, to oppose them, and after some desperate attempts the russians were compelled to beat a retreat. from that moment they relinquished any offensive attack. the malakhoff was ours, and could not be taken from us. it was half-past four. measures were immediately taken to put us in a condition to repulse the enemy, should he attempt to attack us in the night. but our uncertainty was soon put an end to. at nightfall flames burst out on all sides, mines exploded, powder magazines blew up. the spectacle of sebastopol in flames, witnessed by the whole army, was one of the most imposing and terrible sights ever presented in the history of wars. the enemy was evacuating the place. the retreat was effected during the night by means of the bridge established between the two sides of the roadstead, and under cover of the successive explosions, which prevented me from approaching to harass it. on the morning of the th the whole south side of the town was abandoned and in our hands. i need not point out to your excellency the importance of such a success; nor need i speak of that brave army whose warlike virtues and devotion are so well appreciated by our emperor, and i shall have, though the number is great, to point out to you those who distinguished themselves among so many valorous soldiers. i cannot do so yet, but i shall fulfil that duty in an early despatch. accept, m. le maréchal, the expression of my respectful devotion. pelissier, commander-in-chief. * * * * * on the th of september, when it became known that the city was abandoned, the following order was issued:-- "general after-order. "head-quarters, _september _. "the commander of the forces congratulates the army on the result of the attack of yesterday. "the brilliant assault and occupation of the malakoff by our gallant allies obliged the enemy to abandon the works they have so long held with such bravery and determination. "the commander of the forces returns his thanks to the general officers and officers and men of the second and light divisions, who advanced and attacked with such gallantry the works of the redan. he regrets, from the formidable nature of the flanking defences, that their devotion did not meet with that immediate success which it so well merited. "he condoles and deeply sympathizes with the many brave officers, non-commissioned officers, and men who are now suffering from the wounds they received in the course of their noble exertions of yesterday. "he deeply deplores the death of the many gallant officers and men who have fallen in the final struggle of this long and memorable siege. "their loss will be severely felt, and their names long remembered in this army and by the british nation. "general simpson avails himself of this opportunity to congratulate and convey his warmest thanks to the general officers, officers and soldiers of the several divisions, to the royal engineers and artillery, for their cheerful endurance of almost unparalleled hardships and sufferings, and for the unflinching courage and determination which on so many trying occasions they have evinced. "it is with equal satisfaction that the commander of the forces thanks the officers and men of the naval brigade for the long and uniform course of valuable service rendered by them from the commencement of the siege. "by order, h. w. barnard, chief of the staff." state of army, march, . +----------+---------------------+-----------------------------------------+ | | officers. | serjeants. | | +---------------------+------------+-----------+----+-----+-----+ | | | present. | sick. | | | | | | +------------+-----------+ | | | | |field officers. | |other-| |com-|pows | | | | |captains. | |wise | |mand|and | | | | | |subalterns.|under|emp- |pre- |ab- | |miss-| | | | | | |staff.|arms.|loyed.|sent.|sent.| |ing. |total| +----------+----+----+----+------+-----+------+-----+-----+----+-----+-----+ |mounted | | | | | | | | | | | | | staff | ..| | | .. | | .. | .. | .. | | .. | | |cavalry | | | | | | | | | | | | | division| | | | | | | | | | .. | | |infantry | | | | | | | | | | | | |ambulance | | | | | | .. | .. | | | .. | | +----------+----+----+----+------+-----+------+-----+-----+----+-----+-----+ |artillery.| | | | | | | | | | | | |staff | | | ..| | | .. | .. | | ..| .. | | |field | | | | | | | | | | | | | batteries| ..| | | | | .. | .. | | ..| .. | | |siege | | | | | | | | | | | | | train | ..| | | | | | | | | .. | | | +----+----+----+------+-----+------+-----+-----+----+-----+-----+ | total | | | | | | | | | | .. | | +----------+----+----+----+------+-----+------+-----+-----+----+-----+-----+ | royal }| | | | | | | | | | | | |engineers}| | | | | | | | | | | | |sappers, }| | | | | | | | | | | | |and }| | | | | | | | | | .. | | |miners }| | | | | | | | | | | | +==========+====+====+====+======+=====+======+=====+=====+====+=====+=====+ +----------+------------------------------------------+ | | trumpeters or drummers. | | +------------+-----------+----------+------+ | | present. | sick. | | | | +-----+------+-----------+command. | | | | |other-| | |pows | | | | |wise | | |and | | | |under|emp- |pre- |ab- | |miss-| | | |arms.|loyed.|sent.|sent.| |ing. |total.| +----------+-----+------+-----+-----+----+-----+------+ |mounted | | | | | | | | | staff | ..| .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | |cavalry | | | | | | | | | division| | .. | | | | .. | |infantry | | | | | | .. | | |ambulance | ..| .. | .. | | .. | .. | | +----------+-----+------+-----+-----+----+-----+------+ |artillery.| | | | | | | | |staff | ..| .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | .. | |field | | | | | | | | | batteries| | .. | | | .. | .. | | |siege | | | | | | | | | train | | .. | | | .. | .. | | | +-----+------+-----+-----+----+-----+------+ | total | | .. | | | .. | .. | | +----------+-----+------+-----+-----+----+-----+------+ | royal }| | | | | | | | |engineers}| | | | | | | | |sappers, }| | | | | | | | |and }| | .. | .. | .. | | .. | | |miners }| | | | | | | | +==========+=====+======+=====+=====+====+=====+======+ ----------+-------------------------+-------------------------------------- | rank and file. | horses. +-------------+-----------+----+-----+------|-----+-----+-----+----- | present. | sick. | | | | | | | +------+------+-----------+ | | | | | | | |other-| |com-|pows | | | | | | |wise | |mand|and | | | | | |under |emp- |pre- |ab- | |miss-| |pres-| |com- | |arms. |loyed.|sent.|sent.| |ing. |total.| ent.|sick.|mand.|total. ----------+------+------+-----+-----+----+-----+------|-----+-----+-----+----- mounted | | | | | | | | | | | staff | | | .. | | | .. | | | | | cavalry | | | | | | | | | | | division| | | | | | | , | | | | infantry | , | | | | | | , | .. | .. | .. | .. ambulance | | .. | | | | .. | | .. | .. | .. | .. ----------+------+------+-----+-----+----+-----+------|-----+-----+-----+----- artillery.| | | | | | | | native horses. | | | | | | | +-----+-----+----------- staff | ..| | .. | .. | ..| .. | | | | .. field | | | | | | | | | | batteries| , | .. | | | ..| | , | | | .. siege | | | | | | | | | | train | , | | | | ..| .. | , | | | .. +------+------+-----+-----+----+-----+------|-----+-----+----------- total | , | | | | ..| | , | | | .. ----------+------+------+-----+-----+----+-----+------|-----+-----+----------- royal }| | | | | | | | | | engineers}| | | | | | | | | | sappers, }| | | | | | | | | | and }| | | | | | .. | | .. | .. | .. miners }| | | | | | | | | | ==========+======+======+=====+=====+====+=====+======+=====+=====+=========== --------------------------------------------------------------------------- ordnance. -------------------------------------+------------------------------------- siege guns. | field guns. ------------------------------+------+------------------- -inch. | | | -inch. | | | | -pounders. | | | | | -pounders. | | | | | | -pounders. | | | | | | | -pounder | | -pounders. | | | | | field guns. | | | -pounder | | | | | | -inch | | |howitzers. | | | | | | mortars. | | | | -pounders. | | | | | | | -inch | | | | | -pounder | | | | | | | mortars.| | | | |howitzers. | | | | | | | |total.| | | | |total. --+--+--+--+--+--+--+---------+------+--+--+--+--+------- | | | | | | | | | | | | | --+--+--+--+--+--+--+---------+------+--+--+--+--+------- ----------------------------------------------------------------------+ grand total. | ----------------------------+----------------------+------------------+ cavalry and infantry. |ordnance corps. |whole army. | officers , | officers | men , | sergeants , | sergeants | horses , | trumpeters, &c. | drummers | guns | rank and file , | rank and file , | | horses | horses , | | ----------------------------+----------------------+------------------+ the treaty of paris. the following are the most important articles of the treaty, signed by the representatives of the great powers, at the end of the crimean war. art. vii. her majesty the queen of the united kingdom of great britain and ireland, his majesty the emperor of austria, his majesty the emperor of the french, his majesty the king of prussia, his majesty the emperor of all the russias, and his majesty the king of sardinia, declare the sublime porte admitted to participate in the advantages of the public law and system (_concert_) of europe. their majesties engage, each on his part, to respect the independence and the territorial integrity of the ottoman empire; guarantee in common the strict observance of that engagement, and will, in consequence, consider any act tending to its violation as a question of general interest. art. viii. if there should arise between the sublime porte and one or more of the other signing powers any misunderstanding which might endanger the maintenance of their relations, the sublime porte, and each of such powers, before having recourse to the use of force, shall afford the other contracting parties the opportunity of preventing such an extremity by means of their mediation. art. ix. his imperial majesty the sultan, having, in his constant solicitude for the welfare of his subjects, issued a firman which, while ameliorating their condition without distinction of religion or of race, records his generous intentions towards the christian population of his empire, and wishing to give a further proof of his sentiments in that respect, has resolved to communicate to the contracting parties the said firman, emanating spontaneously from his sovereign will. the contracting powers recognize the high value of this communication. it is clearly understood that it cannot, in any case, give to the said powers the right to interfere, either collectively or separately, in the relations of his majesty the sultan with his subjects, nor in the internal administration of his empire. art. xi. the black sea is neutralized: its waters and its ports, thrown open to the mercantile marine of every nation, are formally and in perpetuity interdicted to the flag of war, either of the powers possessing its coasts, or of any other power, with the exceptions mentioned in articles xiv. and xix. of the present treaty. art. xiii. the black sea being neutralized according to the terms of article xi, the maintenance or establishment upon its coast of military-maritime arsenals becomes alike unnecessary and purposeless; in consequence, his majesty the emperor of all the russias and his imperial majesty the sultan engage not to establish or to maintain upon that coast any military-maritime arsenal. art. xxii. the principalities of wallachia and moldavia shall continue to enjoy, under the suzerainty of the porte, and under the guarantee of the contracting powers, the privileges and immunities of which they are in possession. no exclusive protection shall be exercised over them by any of the guaranteeing powers. there shall be no separate right of interference in their internal affairs. art. xxviii. the principality of servia shall continue to hold of the sublime porte, in conformity with the imperial hats which fix and determine its rights and immunities, placed henceforward under the collective guarantee of the contracting powers. in consequence, the said principality shall preserve its independent and national administration, as well as full liberty of worship, of legislation, of commerce, and of navigation. art. xxix. the right of garrison of the sublime porte, as stipulated by anterior regulations, is maintained. no armed intervention can take place in servia without previous agreement between the high contracting powers. * * * * * hang treaty between her majesty, the emperor of austria, and the emperor of the french, guaranteeing the independence and integrity of the ottoman empire. _signed at paris, april , ._ _ratifications exchanged at paris, april , ._ art. i. the high contracting parties guarantee, jointly and severally, the independence and the integrity of the ottoman empire, recorded in the treaty concluded at paris on the thirtieth of march, one thousand eight hundred and fifty-six. art. ii. any infraction of the stipulations of the said treaty will be considered by the powers signing the present treaty as _casus belli_. they will come to an understanding with the sublime porte as to the measures which have become necessary, and will without delay determine among themselves as to the employment of their military and naval forces. * * * * * the denunciation of the treaty of paris. earl granville to sir a. buchanan. foreign office, _nov. , _. sir,--baron brunnow made to me yesterday the communication respecting the convention between the emperor of russia and the sultan, limiting their naval forces in the black sea, signed at paris on the th of march, , to which you allude in your telegram of yesterday afternoon. in my despatch of yesterday i gave you an account of what passed between us, and i now propose to observe upon prince gortschakoff's despatches of the th and th ult., communicated to me by the russian ambassador on that occasion. prince gortschakoff declares, on the part of his imperial majesty, that the treaty of has been infringed in various respects to the prejudice of russia, and more especially in the case of the principalities, against the explicit protest of his representative, and that, in consequence of these infractions, russia is entitled to renounce those stipulations of the treaty which directly touch her interests. it is then announced that she will no longer be bound by the treaties which restrict her rights of sovereignty in the black sea. we have here an allegation that certain facts have occurred which, in the judgment of russia, are at variance with certain stipulations of the treaty, and the assumption is made that russia, upon the strength of her own judgment as to the character of those facts, is entitled to release herself from certain other stipulations of that instrument. this assumption is limited in its practical application to some of the provisions of the treaty, but the assumption of a right to renounce any one of its terms involves the assumption of a right to renounce the whole. this statement is wholly independent of the reasonableness or unreasonableness, on its own merits, of the desire of russia to be released from the observation of the stipulations of the treaty of respecting the black sea. for the question is, in whose hand lies the power of releasing one or more of the parties from all or any of these stipulations? it has always been held that that right belongs only to the governments who have been parties to the original instrument. the despatches of prince gortschakoff appear to assume that any one of the powers who have signed the engagement may allege that occurrences have taken place which in its opinion are at variance with the provisions of the treaty; and, although this view is not shared nor admitted by the co-signatory powers, may found upon that allegation, not a request to those governments for the consideration of the case, but an announcement to them that it has emancipated itself, or holds itself emancipated, from any stipulations of the treaty which it thinks fit to disprove. yet it is quite evident that the effect of such doctrine, and of any proceeding which, with or without avowal, is founded upon it, is to bring the entire authority and efficacy of treaties under the discretionary control of each one of the powers who may have signed them; the result of which would be the entire destruction of treaties in their essence. for whereas their whole object is to bind powers to one another, and for this purpose each one of the parties surrenders a portion of its free agency, by the doctrine and proceeding now in question one of the parties, in its separate and individual capacity, may bring back the entire subject into its own control, and remains bound only to itself. accordingly, prince gortschakoff has announced in these despatches the intention of russia to continue to observe certain of the provisions of the treaty. however satisfactory this might be in itself, it is obviously an expression of the free will of that power, which it might at any time alter or withdraw; and in this it is thus open to the same objections as the other portions of the communications, because it implies the right of russia to annul the treaty on the ground of allegations of which she constitutes herself the only judge. the question therefore arises, not whether any desire expressed by russia ought to be carefully examined in a friendly spirit by the co-signatory powers, but whether they are to accept from her the announcement that, by her own act, without any consent from them, she has released herself from a solemn covenant. i need scarcely say that her majesty's government have received this communication with deep regret, because it opens a discussion which might unsettle the cordial understanding it has been their earnest endeavour to maintain with the russian empire; and for the above-mentioned reasons it is impossible for her majesty's government to give any sanction, on their part, to the course announced by prince gortschakoff. if, instead of such a declaration, the russian government had addressed her majesty's government and the other powers who are parties to the treaty of , and had proposed for consideration with them, whether anything has occurred which could be held to amount to an infraction of the treaty, or whether there is anything in the terms which, from altered circumstances, presses with undue severity upon russia, or which, in the course of events, had become unnecessary for the due protection of turkey, her majesty's government would not have refused to examine the question in concert with the co-signatories to the treaty. whatever might have been the result of such communications, a risk of future complications and a very dangerous precedent as to the validity of international obligations would have been avoided. i am, &c., (signed) granville. p.s.--you will read and give a copy of this despatch to prince gortschakoff. * * * * * prince gortschakoff to baron brunnow. czarskoe selo, _ ( ) november, _. m. le baron,--the english ambassador has read to and given me a copy of a despatch of lord granville relating to our communications of the th ( ) of october. i have hastened to place it before his majesty the emperor. it has pleased our august master to notice, first, the earnest desire of the cabinet of london to maintain a cordial understanding between england and russia, and secondly, the assurance that it would not refuse to examine the modifications which circumstances have caused in the results of the treaty of . as regards the view of strict right laid down by lord granville we do not wish to enter into any discussion, recall any precedent, or cite any example, because such a debate would not conduce to the understanding that we desire. our august master has had an imperative duty to fulfil towards his country, without wishing to wound or threaten any of the governments who signed the treaty of . on the contrary, his imperial majesty appeals to their sentiments of justice, and to the consciousness of their own dignity. we regret to see that lord granville dwells chiefly on the form of our communications. it was not done by our choice. assuredly, we should have desired nothing better than to arrive at the result in harmony with the powers who signed the treaty of . but her britannic majesty's principal secretary of state well knows that all the efforts repeatedly made to unite the powers in a common deliberation, in order to do away with the causes of complication which trouble the general peace, have constantly failed. the prolongation of the actual crisis, and the absence of a regular power in france, remove still further the possibility of such an union. meanwhile, the position of russia by this treaty has become more and more intolerable. lord granville will allow that the europe of to-day is very different from that which signed the act of . it was impossible that russia should consent to remain indefinitely bound by a transaction which, already onerous when concluded, lost its guarantees from day to day. our august master knows his duty towards his country too well to impose on it any longer an obligation against which the national feeling protests. we cannot admit that the abrogation of a theoretical principle without immediate application, which only restores to russia a right of which no other nation would be deprived, can be considered as a menace to peace, or that the annulment of one point in the treaty implies the annulment of the whole. such has never been the intention of the imperial cabinet. on the contrary, our communications of the th ( st) of october declare in the most explicit manner that his majesty the emperor adheres entirely to the general principles of the treaty of , and that he is ready to come to an understanding with the powers who signed that transaction, either by confirming the general stipulations, or by renewing them, or by substituting for them any other equitable arrangement which will be considered fitting to ensure tranquillity in the east, and the equilibrium of europe. there seems to be no reason why the cabinet of london, if agreeable to it, should not enter into explanations with those who signed the treaty of . on our part, we are ready to join in any deliberation having for its object the general guarantees for consolidating the peace of the east. we are sure that this peace would receive additional security if a permanent cause of irritation now existing between the two powers most directly interested in it was removed and their mutual relations were resettled on a good and solid understanding. you are requested, m. le baron, to read and give a copy of this despatch to lord granville. the principal secretary of state of her britannic majesty has expressed to you the regret he would experience if this discussion would alter the good understanding which the government of her majesty the queen has striven to maintain between the two countries. will you inform his excellency how much the imperial cabinet would share in this regret. we think the good understanding of the two governments essentially useful to the two countries, as well as to the peace of the world. it is with a lively satisfaction that we have seen it become during the last few years more and more intimate and cordial. the parity of the circumstances in which we are placed seem of a kind to render this more desirable than ever. receive, &c., gortschakoff. * * * * * earl granville to sir a. buchanan. foreign office, _nov. _. sir,--the russian ambassador has read and given to me a copy of a despatch of prince gortschakoff of the date of th ( th) november. it is not necessary for her majesty's government to recur to the important questions of international law raised by the circular of prince gortschakoff, as they have nothing to add to the declaration on the subject which they have already made. his excellency has been good enough to appeal to my knowledge of facts which his excellency states prevented that consultation and agreement with other parties to this treaty which russia would have preferred. i am aware that suggestions for congresses to settle other european questions have been made and not adopted. it has been also stated to me that intimations have been given to some of my predecessors, that in the case of certain contingencies, which however have never occurred, such as the possession of the principalities by austria, russia would feel bound to call into question some of the provisions of the treaty of . but i am ignorant of any occasion on which russia, the party most interested, has proposed in any way to this country that a relaxation of the treaty should be taken into consideration. i cannot therefore admit that the imperial government can justify this proceeding by the failure of efforts which have never been made. the courteous language in which prince gortschakoff's despatch is written, his assurance of the manner in which he would have preferred to open this question, and his declaration of the strong desire for a confirmation of good relations between the two nations, particularly important at this time, encourage her majesty's government in the belief that the obstacle to such relations will be removed. they observe that his excellency describes the declaration which has been made by russia as an abrogation of a theoretical principle without immediate application. if these words are to be construed into an announcement that russia has formed and stated her own opinion of her rights, but has no intention of acting in conformity with it without due concert with the other powers, they go far to close the controversy in which the two governments have been engaged. her majesty's government have no objection to accept the invitation which has been made by prussia to a conference, upon the understanding that it is assembled without any foregone conclusions as to its results. in such case her majesty's government will be glad to consider with perfect fairness, and the respect due to a great and friendly power, any proposals which russia may have to make. you will read and give a copy of this despatch to prince gortschakoff. i am, &c., (signed) granville. * * * * * the conference of . hang the result of the denunciation of the treaty of paris by russia was that a conference, suggested by prince bismarck, was arranged to meet at london. protocol no. . _at the sitting of january ._ earl granville expressed himself as follows:-- earl granville-- "the conference has been accepted by all the co-signatory powers of the treaty of , for the purpose of examining, without any foregone conclusion, and of discussing with perfect freedom, the proposals which russia desires to make to us with regard to the revision which she asks of the stipulations of the said treaty relative to the neutralization of the black sea. "this unanimity furnishes a striking proof that the powers recognize that it is an essential principle of the law of nations that none of them can liberate itself from the engagements of a treaty, nor modify the stipulations thereof, unless with the consent of the contracting parties by means of an amicable understanding." the plenipotentiary of russia requested the permission of the conference to read a summary which he wished to be inserted in the protocol:-- "he instanced specially the precedent of the conferences held at different periods in paris, and cited the decisions adopted by general agreement with the view of modifying the government of the principalities of moldavia and wallachia, an alteration which received the sanction of the sublime porte, as well as the assent of the other contracting powers. "he affirmed that these deviations from the treaty have exercised no influence on the firm intention of the emperor to maintain intact the general principles of the treaty of , which have defined the position of turkey in the system of europe. "in fact, these stipulations, suggested at another period under the influence of conjunctures entirely different from the present situation are no longer in harmony with the relations of good neighbourhood which exist at this moment between the two riverain powers." annex. the plenipotentiaries of north germany, of austria-hungary, of great britain, of italy, of russia, and of turkey, assembled to-day in conference, recognize that it is an essential principle of the law of nations that no power can liberate itself from the engagements of a treaty, nor modify the stipulations thereof, unless with the consent powers by means of an amicable arrangement. in faith of which the said plenipotentiaries have signed the present protocol. done at london, the th january, . (signed) bernstorff. apponyi. granville. cadorna. brunnow. musurus. broglie. march , . index. adams, brigadier-general, at inkerman, _adelaide_, the, her arrival in balaklava, _agamemnon_, the, her orders for sailing, ; enters balaklava, and attacks the fort, airey, general sir r., his encampment, ; superseded, aladyn, encampment at, , alexander, colonel, alexander, dr., allied armies, assembled at varna, ; military review of the, ; their great losses in killed and wounded, ; their preparation for winter quarters, ; error of their campaign, , . see _french_, and _soldiers_ alma, the river, halt of the allied forces at, and preparations for the battle of, ; account of the battle, _et seq._; position of the russians on, ; the allies victorious, ; retreat of the russians from, _ib._; military conduct of the battle of, ; state of the battle-field, ; telegraph at, ; position and attack at, , ; bitter reflections on the battle, _ib._; graves at, ; frightful losses at, ; its entrenchments, _ib._; monument at, aloupka, visit to, ; the colonel of, _ib._; dinner at, _ib._ aloushta, ; visits to, ambalaki, capture of, ambulance corps, wretchedness of the, ; disbanded, ambulances, their great utility, ; superiority of the english ones, anderson, captain, , araba drivers, their disappearance from roumelia and bulgaria, arabas, arrival of, with provisions, arabat, spit of, , ; unsuccessful attack on the fortress of, _ib._ armies of the russians and the allies, condition of the, ; their respective positions before sebastopol, ; general state of the, armistice, for the burial of the dead, and interchange of civilities during the, , , ; sad scenes during the, ; news of, from the respective governments, ; mutual visits after the, _et seq._; agreed to, ; followed by peace, arms, a gallant feat of, , army, british, its distressed position at varna, ; its different divisions, and general commander, ; its improved condition, ; its concentrated attack on sebastopol, _et seq._; its amount of armament in the bombardment of sebastopol, _et seq._; jealousies in the, , ; preparations for its winter encampment, . see _crimea_, and _soldiers_ artillery, duel of, ; its powerful effects, athens, gulf of, athos, mount, autemarre, general d', the french commander in the sea of azoff, . azoff, expedition to the sea of, ; capture of yenikale, ; operations in the, _et seq._; destruction of the russian shipping, &c., ; complete success of the expedition, ; purity of its water, baidar, miserable state of, bakschiserai, retreat of the russians to, ; visit to, ; miserable state of, balaklava, march of the expedition to, ; a poor village, _ib._; surrender of the town, _ib._; cholera at, ; intended attack of the russians on, ; fortified earthworks thrown around, ; hurricane at, _et seq._; miserable condition of, , ; dreadful scenes among the turks in, ; false alarm at, ; improvements in, ; general state of, ; movements in front of, ; its singular aspect, ; discipline in the harbour of, ; improvements in, _ib._ baltschik, rendezvous of the expedition in, , barnard, general, appointed chief of the staff, ; his meeting with the russians, bashi-bazouks, their military characteristics, ; their encampment, ; disbanded, batteries before sebastopol, , ; relative position and strength of the, _et seq._ bayonet, sanguinary charge with the, at inkerman, , ; contests with the, , ; reluctance to charge with the, bazancourt's strictures on the allied forces, - beatty, the engineer, his death, belbek, the river, ; scenery of the, _ib._; barrier of the, ; arrival of the allied troops at, _ib._; false alarm at, ; deliberations at, ; march from the, _ib._; heights of the, ; cantonments on the, _ib._ bell, captain, his gallantry at alma, bentinck, major-general sir h., lands at eupatoria, ; his orders relative to the services of the fourth division, berdiansk, attack on, birds, crowds of, on board ship, , ; crimean varieties, bizot, general, killed, black river, the, ; gorge of the, black sea, entrance of the expedition into the, blane, major, bombardment of sebastopol, _et seq._; terrible effects of the, , _et seq._ see _sebastopol_ bomb-shells of the russians, , bonaparte, emperor, his intended visit to the crimea, bono johnnies, , , bosphorus, arrival of the british troops in the, ; scenery of the, , bosquet, general, commander of the second division of the french, ; his command at the alma, ; his bravery, , ; at the tchernaya, ; at inkerman, bouljanæk, affair at, _et seq._ bouet willaumez, the french admiral, boussiniere, his bravery at alma, boxer, admiral, commander of balaklava, ; his improvements at balaklava, british soldiers, their devoted heroism, , british troops, their disembarkation at eupatoria, . see _soldiers_ brown, general sir g., ; visits rustum pasha, ; his quarters, ; cordiality of the french towards, ; a strict disciplinarian, ; proceeds to varna, ; his landing at eupatoria, ; his danger, _ib._; commands the light division, ; his gallantry at the alma, , ; at inkerman, ; his operations, ; commander of the expedition to the sea of azoff, bruat, admiral, ; death of, ; high mass celebrated for the soul of, _ib._ bucharest, captured by omar pasha, bug, river, expedition up the, ; scenery on the banks of the, _ib._; conflict with the russians, ; its confluence with the dnieper, ; operations in the, , ; raising of the blockade, ; difficulties of ascending it, _ib._, _note_ bulair, town of, , ; military works at, ; fortifications at, bulgaria, peasantry of, , ; immense forces assembled in, , ; the natives forsake their homes, buller, brigadier-general, burgoyne, sir john, proposes the flank march, , ; his departure for england, burliouk, ruins of, , burrell, dr., cafés at gallipoli, , calvert, mr., the consul at gallipoli, ; his active efforts, _ib._ cambridge, duke of, his arrival at gallipoli, ; dines with the sultan, ; lands at eupatoria, ; commands the first division, ; his gallantry at alma, ; at inkerman, camel, anecdote of one at sebastopol, cameron, general, of the highland division, camp-followers in the crimea, , camp life, campbell, general sir colin, ; his military experience, campbell, general sir j., of the fourth division, ; his military operations, _ib._; death of, "canards," hatching of, canrobert, general, ; at gallipoli, ; arrives at varna, ; his bravery at alma, ; assumes the command of the french troops, ; at inkerman, ; his order of the day after the battle of inkerman, ; his address to the troops, canteen-keepers, their rapacity, carbuccia, general, death of, cardigan, lord, his difficult reconnaissance, ; his early operations, ; at the tchernaya, ; his desperate cavalry charge at balaklava, careening bay, sebastopol, casualties, number of, , cathcart, sir g., commands the fourth division, ; at balaklava, ; slain at inkerman, ; his advice while living disregarded, cathcart's hill, its position, , , ; view of sebastopol from, ; present state of, cavalry brigade, british, criticisms on the, ; its charge on the russians, ; relics of the, cemetery, struggle for the, ; its capture, "chambers of horrors," chapman, captain, at sebastopol, charges at night, difficulties of describing, chasseurs, at inkerman, ; review of the, cherson, cape, lighthouse of, cherson bay, cruise up the, chersonese, cape, ; memorials of the brave at the, cholera, its violence in bulgaria, ; at varna, , ; horrors attending it, , , ; its ravages at balaklava, &c., , , christian subjects of turkey, their right to protection, christmas of , its dreariness in the crimea, ; of , church, desolated interior of a, civilians, their criticisms on military matters, classical fictions, clifford, hon. mr., climate of the dardanelles and surrounding country, , clothing, terrible deficiency of, , ; supplied by the _times'_ commissioner, ; general supplies of, , codrington, general sir w., his gallantry at alma, , ; at inkerman, ; his justification, ; appointed commander-in-chief, ; his various promotions, , ; his career, ; his general orders, ; his grand review of the british troops, - ; his general orders respecting the departure of the sardinians, coffee, wretched supply of, colborne, major, cold, destructive effects of the, , ; paralyzing effects of, colville, captain, his bravery at alma, comet, appearances of the, commissariat department, ; its difficulties at gallipoli, , ; its pressure of business, ; its supplies, ; its deficiencies, ; improvement in the supplies, ; favourable changes in the, commission, mixed, at sebastopol, for distributing the prize captures, - cooking, want of apparatus for, cooking rations, receipts for, corn, destruction of, in the sea of azoff, ; quantity of, issued to the english army, ; great waste of, cossacks, appearance of the, , ; first encounter with the, , ; their indefatigability, ; their cunning, ; a brush with the, ; their sly manoeuvres at kinburn, ; their appearance and habiliments, , , ; their horses, , councils, divided, evils of the, crimea, causes of the expedition to the, ; preparations for the campaign, _et seq._; influence of the press on the, , ; early difficulties, and imperfect arrangements for the war, , ; orders for attacking the, ; preparations for invading the, _ib._; russian forces at the, _ib._; departure of the expedition, ; its shores and anchorage, _et seq._; landing at eupatoria, - ; first encounters with the russians, , , ; amount of the invading force, ; tartar race of the, ; march of the allied army, _et seq._; battle of the alma, _et seq._; advance from the alma, ; movements of the russians, ; advance on belbek, ; capture of balaklava, ; arrival at sebastopol, ; and its investment, (see _sebastopol_); battle of inkerman, ; hardships of the campaign, ; attack on eupatoria, ; attack of the french on sebastopol, and the progress of the siege, ; great hardships, ; climate, _ib._; the _times'_ fund sent to the, ; commencement of active operations in the spring, ; railway in the, ; birds and flowers in the, ; sports of the camp, ; march of improvement in, ; severe fighting before sebastopol, _et seq._; kertch expeditions, , ; expedition to the sea of azoff, ; severe fighting before sebastopol, _et seq._; death of lord raglan, ; general simpson appointed commander-in-chief, ; battles of the tchernaya, , ; the sardinian contingent, ; capture of the malakoff, ; retreat of the russians, ; capture of sebastopol, ; review of the great struggle, _et seq._; state of the two armies, ; ruins of sebastopol, - ; general simpson's despatch respecting operations in, ; mildness of the weather in november, , , ; disadvantageous position of the allies in the, ; winter of , ; mud of the, ; russian forces in the, ; a second christmas in the, ; winter in the, _ib._; storm in the, ; camp followers in the, ; destruction of the sebastopol docks, - ; the british forces in the, - ; armistice takes place, ; peace proclaimed, ; preparations for evacuation, ; review of the great struggle, - ; excursion into the interior, ; tour through the, and general aspect of the country, ; departure of the sardinian staff from, ; memorials of the brave, ; tour in the north of the, _ib._; its outlets, and the difficulties these presented to the russians, _ib._; wells of the, _ib._; salt waters of the, ; german villages of the, ; reflections on the campaign, _ib._ crimean flora, croat labourers, their physical strength and endurance, "crow's nest," battery so called, cuddy, lieut.-colonel, his bravery and ill-treatment, ; his death, _ib._ dardanelles, arrival of the british troops at the, ; coasts of the, _ib._; climate and scenery of the, , dead, armistice for the burial of the, , , , death, the valley of, , demur kapu, desaint, colonel, deserters from the allied forces, ; from the russians, , ; their accounts from sebastopol, ; stories of the, ; their miserable plight, _ib._ devno, march to, ; the valley of death, , diarrhoea among the troops at varna, dickson, colonel, ; at balaklava, ; at sebastopol, ; at inkerman, dinner, a crimean one, discipline, relaxation of, divisions of the british forces, and their commanders, ; their landing at eupatoria, , ; their order of march, djemel pasha, commander of the dardanelles, ; his learning and intelligence, , dnieper, entry of the united squadron into the, ; its blockade raised, ; difficulties of ascending the, , _note_ dobrudscha, campaign in the, and losses experienced thereby, docks, of sebastopol, destroyed, - dog-hunting in the crimea, dogs and cats from sebastopol, doyne, mr., the head engineer, his vigorous labours at sebastopol, , , dragoon guards, their charge on the russians, drainage, operations of, dress of the british soldiers, drummers of the crimea, drunkenness, punishment of, dundas, admiral, ; his orders, egerton, colonel, his bravery at the alma, egyptian troops at varna, elchingen, duc d', death of, electric telegraph laid down, ; its tendency to mischievous consequences, electricity, agencies of, eman, colonel, killed, _emperor_, the guiding star of the fleet, engineering works, scarcity of men for, , england, her commercial interests as regards turkey, england, sir richard, arrives at the dardanelles, ; commands the third division, english. see _soldiers_, and _army_ enniskilleners, their charge on the russians, enos, town of, entrenchments, advance of the, espinasse, general, estcourt, general, ; death of, etesian wind, etonnoirs of the french, , euboea, eupatoria, survey of the coast of, ; coast of, , ; town of, ; selected for the landing-place, _ib._; inhabitants of, ; landing of the french at, , ; resolution to garrison it, ; russian attack on, evans, general sir de lacy, arrives at the dardanelles, ; commands the second division, ; lands at eupatoria, ; his bravery at the alma, , ; his report of military operations at the alma, ; his despatch from the heights of the tchernaya, - ; his illness, , expedition, crimean, its departure, ; its extent, ; vastness of the armada conveying it, ; its voyage from varna to the crimea, - ; its uncertainties, , ; account of its disembarkation, - ; military force of the, ; marches into the interior, _ib._; its order of march, ; its halt at the alma, ; at the katcha, ; accession of forces at the, _ib._; makes a détour round the belbek, _et seq._; its march from the belbek to balaklava, , . see _crimea_, and _sebastopol_ explosions, disastrous ones, , , , - ; causes, eyre, brigadier, ; appointed to the command of the third division, ; his excursion in the interior of the crimea, fatigue parties, severe duties of the, fatima hanoum, the kurdish chieftainess, ferguson, general, fidonisi, french rendezvous of, fighting, love of, an anecdote, filder, commissary-general, ; his office in varna, ; his instructions, fire, a disastrous one, flagstaff battery, contentions for the, flank march of the allies, fleet of the russians, its submergement, , flowers of the crimea, food, prices of, at varna, forey, general, his bravery at the alma, fort constantine, in sebastopol, forts of the north side of sebastopol, fourth division, general bentinck's testimony to their services, france, her political interests as regards turkey, french camp, sickness in the, ; their superiority in cooking, _ib._ french fleet, conveying the expedition, , french spahis effect a landing at eupatoria, french forces, their arrival at malta, ; their superior arrangements, , , , ; their accommodations at gallipoli, , ; their police regulations, ; their mode of making purchases, ; number of, at gallipoli, , ; their cordiality to the english, , ; their uniforms, _ib._; their methods of dealing with the turks, ; review of, at gallipoli, ; staff of the, ; first land on the crimea, , ; their successful bravery at the alma, ; their landing at kamiesch, ; their siege and bombardment of sebastopol, _et seq._; their order of battle at inkerman, , ; road made by the, ; important reinforcements received, ; their sufferings, ; their conflicts with the russians, ; their contests for the rifle-pits, - ; their gallantry, ; their capture of the mamelon, , ; their unsuccessful attack on the malakoff, , ; great losses sustained thereby, - ; their second attack, and capture of the malakoff, ; engaged at the battle of the tchernaya, , ; amount of their ordnance on their last bombardment of sebastopol, ; their works for storming the malakoff, ; their operations after the fall of sebastopol, _et seq._; review of the, ; their system of mines, frost-bites in the crimea, , , _fury_, the, her reconnaissance of sebastopol, fusileer guards, their arrival at malta, ; their severe losses, gallipoli, departure of the english and french troops for, , ; arrival at, ; description of, , ; wretchedness of, ; population of, _ib._; its bad quarters, - ; difficulties of the commissariat at, , ; high price of provisions, ; police regulations at, ; alarming fire at, ; confusion arising therefrom, , ; climate and scenery of, , ; arrival of generals at , gambier, lieut. colonel, commander of the siege train at sebastopol, ; at inkerman, generals of the army, deficiency of, german colonists of the crimea, genitchi, attack on, gibb, captain, _golden fleece_, the, , , , ; her arrival at gallipoli, golden horn, the, goldie, brigadier-general, at inkerman, ; slain, goodram, samuel, blown up, ; anecdotes of, _ib._ gordon, captain, ; at sebastopol, gortschakoff, prince, ; his operations, ; his intended plan of operations, grant, captain, of the ambulance corps, greece, localities of, , greek and latin churches, their quarrels in turkey, greek hermit, greeks, their religion, ; their apathy, greys, their charge on the russians, guards, their departure from london, ; their arrival at malta, , ; their difficulty of obtaining provisions, ; their arrival at varna, ; leave varna for the crimea, ; their gallantry at the alma, , , ; their heroism and severe losses at inkerman, , ; queen victoria's presents to the, ; their magnificent appearance in line, , hall, dr., his letter to dr. smith, hallewell, captain, , hamelin, admiral, hammersley, major, his tour in the north of the crimea, handcock, colonel, killed, harbour discipline at balaklava, highland brigade, their condition, ; leave varna for the crimea, ; their gallantry at the alma, , ; steadiness of their movements in action, ; their bravery at the tchernaya, ; their kilt, hill, captain, shot, _himalaya_, the, her arrival at malta, ; at the bosphorus, ; her enormous cargo of horses and men, hoey, colonel, his bravery at the alma, horses, difficulty of getting them on shore, ; great havoc among, hospital quarters at gallipoli, hurricane at balaklava, ; its violence, - ; distress caused thereby, , ; miserable state of balaklava after the, hussars, arrival of the, hut of the author, ; its situation, huts, decorations of the, , ; robberies of the, ; complaints against the, ida, mount, inkerman, the british force taken by surprise at, ; sanguinary battle of, - ; a series of sanguinary hand-to-hand fights, ; review of the dreadful battle-field, ; the frightful slaughter at, - ; ghastly relics of the battle, isarkaia, ruined chateau of, jack tar at his tricks, ; his playbill, john bull at a nonplus, - jones, general sir h., replaces sir j. burgoyne, , kadikoi, encampment at, ; road made from, ; its administrative government, kamara, village of, kamiesch, landing of the french at, ; amusements at, kara-bournou, destruction of the magazines, at, karaguel, town of, kariakoff, the russian commander, kars, fall of, katcha, mouth of the, ; valley of the, - ; river of the, ; russian vessels sunk in the harbour of the, ; march from, keppel, captain, commander of the naval brigade, kertch, expedition to, ; return of the expedition, ; second expedition, ; town of, , ; capture of, ; plunder of, , , ; its inhabitants, , ; hospital at, ; dreadful ravages in, , ; peninsula of, , _note_ kinburn, expedition to, ; description of, _ib._; plan of the attack on, - ; bombarded by the allied fleet, ; surrender of, ; fort described, ; refortified by the allies, ; cossacks in the neighbourhood of, _ib._ koran, not adapted to the civil law of turkey, kostendji, village of, laid waste, kurds, chieftainess of the, lancaster gun, destroyed by a shot, laspi, the french doctor, plundered by the turks, lawrence, colonel, , , leblanc, mr., accidentally shot, _leander_, frigate, leslie, lieutenant, wounded, letters from head-quarters, levinge, major, death of, levinge, captain, liège muskets, used by the russians, light cavalry brigade, its desperate charge at balaklava, ; ordered to embark for eupatoria, light division, its heroic gallantry, , , ; its severe losses, ; its casualties, ; its attack at the alma, lights, short supplies of, "looting" at kertch, lucan, lord, commander of the cavalry division, , ; at the tchernaya, ; his desperate cavalry attack, ; his recall, lüders, general, luggage of the english and french armies, lyons, admiral, his opinions on the flank march of the expedition, ; commands the expedition to the sea of azoff, ; his operations in cherson bay, _et seq._ machines, for exploding, mackenzie's farm, macnish, lieutenant w. l., drowned, malakoff tower, ; french preparations for attacking, ; unsuccessful attack on the, , ; great losses sustained, - ; a second attack on the, left to the french, ; the french advances towards, ; assaulted and captured by the french, ; contest in the rear of the, , ; its capture causes the loss of sebastopol, ; strength of its works, _ib._; terrible scenes of the, _ib._; number of guns captured in the, malea, cape, , malta, arrival of the guards at, ; busy scenes in, ; cordial reception of the british troops at, , ; arrival of the french troops at, , mamelon, attack on the, ; contest for the, ; firing from the, ; capture of the, ; continued struggles for the, ; interior of the, _manilla_, her arrival at malta, mansell, captain, , markham, general, assumes the command of the second division, marmora, sea of, , , , marmora, general della, the sardinian commander, ; his departure from the crimea, ; honours paid to, _ib._ martimprey, general, matapan, cape, maule, colonel, death of, may-day, in the crimea, medals, distribution of, at sebastopol, medicines, utter want of, in the crimea, mediterranean, storm in the, mehemet kiprisli pasha, memorials of the brave in the crimea, menschikoff, prince, the russian commander, at the battle of the alma, ; his military force, ; his military genius, ; satirical songs on, michael, grand duke, at the battle of inkerman, ; his reconnaissance of the allied armies, middle packet ravine, , military spectacle, a grand one, military matters, criticisms of civilians on, mines, explosion of, ; of the french and russians, minié rifle, its destructive effects, , miskomia, valleys of, , mitylene, mixed commission for dividing the spoils of sebastopol, - monastir, town of, , monetary arrangements, intricacy of, money, waste of, money-changers, jew and armenian, _montezuma_, her arrival at malta, monument at the alma, morea, coast of the, ; arrival of the troops at, mortar-battery, contest for the, mounted staff corps, disbanded, mud, of the crimea, ; of balaklava, mule-litters of the french, muscovite character, type of the, muscovite infantry, a bad lot of, at kinburn, music, military, influence of, musketry, affair of, between the russians and the french, napoleon, emperor, his christmas presents to the crimean army, napoleon, prince, arrives at the dardanelles, ; reviews the troops, _ib._; his arrival in bulgaria, naval brigade, their attack on the redan, ; their severe losses, ; their admirable practice, "navvies," their rapid progress, ; their industry, newbury, mr., death of, newspaper correspondence in the crimea, ; its difficulties, newspapers, effect of their statements, , nicholaieff, its situation in the bay, ; dockyards of, ; its ship-building and arsenal, _ib._ nicholas, the czar of russia, his menacing pretensions, ; his ideas respecting the campaign, , ; death of, nicholas, grand duke, at the battle of inkerman, niel, general, the french engineer, night attacks, difficulty of describing, nightingale, miss florence, her devoted labours at scutari, nixon, lieutenant, his bravery at the alma, nolan, captain, killed at balaklava, norcott, colonel, ; his bravery at the alma, , , november, anniversary of the month, ; favourable change of circumstances in the, _ib._; its seasonable mildness, _ib._ oczakoff, fort of, destroyed, odessa, threatened by the allied fleets, ; the alarm of the inhabitants, ; reasons for not attacking, , ; description of, , old fort, selected for the landing-place for the expedition, omar pasha, his military appearance, ; his review of the troops, ; at varna, ; his conference with lord raglan and marshal st. arnaud, ; his proposed plans, _ib._; his arrival at sebastopol, ; his visit to the crimea, ; undertakes to send , turks to sebastopol, ; is tired of his inactive position in the crimea, ; his expedition in asia minor, order of merit, suggestion respecting, , osmanli, their military courage, ; their want of discipline, _ib._; their military appearance, _ib._; their temperance and spare diet, ; their kindness to the sick, out-posts, good-fellowship of the, ovens, combat for the, paget, lord g., ordered to eupatoria, pashas of turkey, their adherence to ancient usages, paskiewitch, general, his bombardment of silistria, patton, captain, death of, paulet, lord, w., his promotion, pavlovskaia, fort of, ; occupation of, peace, rumours of, ; proclamation of, pelissier, marshal, succeeds general canrobert, ; created a marshal, ; his review of the british troops, - pennefather, brigadier-general, , pera, district of, perekop, its defences, peroffsky, mined chateau of, phoros, visit to, ; obstacles at, , pickets, affair of, piedmont, political situation of, ; character of her army, _pluton_, the, polish deserters, , , post-house, imperial, in sebastopol, potteries district, powell, captain, , press, its faithfulness and ability, and its support of the ministry, , promotions of officers, provisions, prices of, at gallipoli, ; general depôt for, ; dearness of, at balaklava, ; want of apparatus for cooking, purchase system, evils of the, - quarantine battery, contentions for the, quarries, capture of the, ; continued contests for the, ; batteries of the, races in the crimea, , rafts, russian, capture of, raglan, lord, the british commander-in-chief, his arrival at gallipoli, ; his conference with omar pasha at varna, ; visits the turkish encampment, _ib._; his head-quarters at scutari, ; his review of the troops, ; his want of communication with general evans, ; his strong political feelings and aristocratic prejudices, ; an accomplished gentleman, but no general, ; his operations against sebastopol, _et seq._; his orders at balaklava, , , ; his despatch after the battle of the tchernaya, ; his death, ; his qualities, ; succeeded by general simpson, railway road, its formation in the crimea, , _note_, ; brought into use, railway train, accident with the, railway works, ranken, major, death of, rations, ill supply of, ; scarce supply of, reade, mr., death of, reconnaissance, preparations for, ; frustrated, red tape and routine business, , redan, defences of the, ; unsuccessful attack on the, , ; great losses sustained, - ; final attack on the, _et seq._; plan of assault, , ; description of the interior, _et seq._; failure of the english attack, ; detailed account of the conflict _et seq._; causes of the repulse, ; tremendous losses sustained thereby, , , - ; ruin and desolation of the, ; number of guns captured in the, ; melancholy accident in the, redschid pasha, the turkish commander in the sea of azoff, reid, sir w., rifle-pits, position of the, ; attacks on, and severe contests for the, , , , - , riza pacha, road-making, , ; difficulties of, roads, ; round sebastopol, ; one from balaklava to kadikoi, rocket practice, its effects, ros, lord de, quartermaster-general, ; his interview with omar pasha, rose, brig-gen., commissioner for the british army, round tower of sebastopol, defences of the, ; desperate contests for the, russia, causes of the war with, ; her spirit of aggression, , ; her armies on the danube, ; and their siege of silistria, ; death of the emperor of, russian forces in the crimea, ; their encampment bombarded by the allied fleet, ; first encounter with the, , ; their determined bravery at the battle of the alma, , - ; their position, , ; their defeat, , , ; their retreat towards simpheropol, ; their numbers, ; their loss in the battle, ; their defences on the north of sebastopol, ; their movements _ib._; their defence of sebastopol, _et seq._; their manoeuvring, , , ; their attack from the tchernaya, , ; their cavalry defeated, ; their retreat from balaklava, ; their fortified position, ; surprise the british at inkerman, ; their desperate attack, ; defeated, ; formation of the army, ; their uniform and weapons, , ; their general appearance, , ; their devotion to their officers, _ib._; their barbarity to our men, _ib._; their furious conflicts, , , , , _et seq._; receive reinforcements from sebastopol, ; their great losses, ; their contests for the rifle-pits, , ; their movements towards the tchernaya, ; their furious attack, and defeat, - ; destruction of their ports, corn, and shipping, in the sea of azoff, ; continue to receive supplies of men and food, ; defeated at the battle of tchernaya, ; the divisions engaged in the battle at tchernaya, _ib._; concentration of the, ; their distressed condition, ; lose the malakoff, and retreat to the north side of sebastopol, ; their retreat after the capture of the malakoff, , ; ability of their engineers, ; their operations after the fall of sebastopol, , ; their defences and activity on the north side of sebastopol, ; their firing, ; their miserable state after the capture of sebastopol, ; their continued firing, ; capture of their immense rafts in the dnieper, ; apprehensions of their renewed attacks, ; their threatening movements, , ; their attempt to surprise, ; their continued firing, ; their military music, ; their fleet submerged, , ; their mutual intercourse with the allies, ; their mines, ; their immense losses in the crimea, , russian new year, opening of the, russian officer discovered at eupatoria, russian song on the war, rustum, pasha of adrianople, sailor, his comparative comforts, sailors, british, their good-natured assistance to the troops, , sailors' batteries, their activity, , sailors' brigade, their severe losses, st. arnaud, marshal, his arrival at gallipoli, ; dines with the sultan, ; his conference with omar pasha, at varna, ; his vigour and coolness, ; his declaration to the army, on embarking for the crimea, ; seized with illness, ; reviews the troops, ; explains his plan of battle, ; death, st. laurent, m., death of, salt lakes of the crimea, , saltmarshe, lieutenant, death of, sanatorium at balaklava, sappers and miners at varna, sardinians, their arrival at the crimea, ; their soldierlike equipments, _ib._; their character as soldiers, , ; their skill and bravery at the battle of the tchernaya, - ; their departure from the crimea, ; general orders respecting, _ib._ saros, gulf of, scarlett, brigadier-general, ; at balaklava, schapan, on the coast of the crimea, scutari, arrival of troops at, ; the alied forces at, , ; departure from, sea, life at, sea-passage, the, _et seq._ sebastopol, orders for besieging, ; report respecting, ; reconnoitring of, ; forces of, ; its northern defences, ; south of, occupied by the allies, ; investment of, and commencement of the siege, ; operations against, ; first sortie, ; the line of operations, , ; difficulties of the ground, ; the russian defence, _ib._; the first bombardment, _ib._; effects of the fire upon, , ; the russian manoeuvres, ; its continued defence, ; its great strength, ; the tales of the siege, _et seq._; during the winter, _et seq._; reconnaissance of, ; russian defences of, , ; furious contests before, ; a good view of, ; its general appearance, ; cannonading of, ; ships sunk in the harbour of, ; active operations against, , ; russian reinforcements, ; furious struggles for, ; a number of officers killed and wounded, , ; its general defences, , ; desultory contests, ; continued bombardment of, _et seq._; the various batteries brought against, ; its ruinous condition, ; renewed operations against, ; preparations for the general attack, _ib._; capture of the mamelon and quarries, ; and further struggles, _et seq._; positions of the contending parties, _et seq._; principal events of the siege, - ; the writer's opinions as to its capture, ; letter of a russian lady respecting, ; ominous preparations for the final assault, , ; crisis of the siege, ; commencement of the sixth and last bombardment, ; aspect of the city from cathcart's hill, _ib._; tremendous bombardment of, , ; frightful state of the town, , ; in flames, ; the russians retreat to the north side on the capture of the malakoff, , , ; visit to the city after its capture, ; plunder taken from, ; hospital of, ; general review of the great struggle, ; the russian defences on the north side of, ; the mixed commission appointed for adjudicating the spoils of, - ; materials and build of the forts of, ; ruins of, - ; russian account of its capture, ; state of affairs in, ; want of proper system and organization, ; proceedings of the mixed commission on the division of the spoils, - ; how the city might have been taken, ; spoils of, contribute to the comfort of the army, ; sales of the different articles, _ib._; destruction of the docks, - ; the city a mass of ruins, ; reflections on the siege, _et seq._; northern forts of, seymour, lieut.-colonel, slain, shipping of the russians, sunk in the harbour of sebastopol, ; on fire, ; sunk and destroyed, ships of war engaged in the crimean expedition, shumla, turkish forces at, sick, comforts for the, sickness of the british troops, , , ; in the french camp, , , siege works, formidable progress of the, , , sievernaya, the, , ; defence of the, silistria, bombardment by the russians, ; siege of, raised, simeis, tartar village of, _simoom_, her arrival at malta, simpheropol, typhus-haunted streets of, simpson, general, succeeds lord raglan as commander-in-chief, ; not suited for the position of commander-in-chief, _ib._; his order of the day announcing his appointment to the command, ; his personal staff, _ib._; receives the grand cross of the legion of honour, ; his despatch respecting the operations on the th of september, ; his failure as a commander, ; suspended, _ib._; his farewell address, _ib._ sinope, slaughter of, avenged, sivash, waters of the, snow-storm, effects of one, - social vultures, soldier, his hardships, soldiers, british, their devoted heroism, ; their departure for gallipoli, ; their voyage, _et seq._; their arrival at the dardanelles, ; quartered at gallipoli, ; deficiency of accommodation for the, ; their difficulties at gallipoli, ; their arrival in the bosphorus, ; their uniforms, ; their complaints ; their disposition, ; their games and amusements, ; their sufferings at varna, ; their landing at eupatoria, ; want of accommodation for, ; sickness among, ; their operations and bravery at the battle of the alma, _et seq._; enter balaklava, ; their siege and bombardment of sebastopol, _et seq._; surprised at inkerman, ; their want of clothing, ; their distressing position, _et seq._; their heroism, ; continual drain of, , ; effect of the author's statements, _ib._; their armament, ; their severe losses, , , - ; not equal to the french as labourers, ; their increased comforts, , ; grand review of the, ; their splendid appearance, , soyer, m., at the crimea, ; his system of cookery, _ib._ spahis, their capture of cattle, , spencer, hon. general a., commander of the expedition to eupatoria, spirit vendors, their abominable articles, ; expelled the crimea, _ib._ sports of the camp, spring, sports of the, ; its genial influence, spy, russian, in the trenches, ; his information trustworthy, squadrons, english and french, their formidable array before odessa, , ; their plan of operations in the expedition to the bay of cherson, - ; their attack on kinburn, _et seq._; compel its surrender, ; their departure from the bay of cherson, , strangways, general fox, slain at inkerman, staff of general simpson, stanislaff, threatened attack on, star fort, in sebastopol, , steamers, russian, sunk at sebastopol, stewart, admiral houston, ; his operations in cherson bay, , storms, in the mediterranean, ; in the dardanelles, ; their fatal effects, , , - ; in the crimea, sullivan, colonel, supplies received by the russians, surgeons of the crimean army, official neglect of, suttlers, their rapacity, surgery of the english, its skill, taganrog, attack on, taioutine regiment, takli bournou, cape of, taman, coast of, tarkan cape, promontory of, , tartar race of the crimea, , ; their friendliness, ; their ruined villages, , tartars of kertch, tchernaya, the river, ; occupied by the russian infantry, ; the adjoining country, ; the russians advance from the, , ; despatch of general evans after the battle, - ; attack on the, ; position of the, _ib._; battle of the, _et seq._; the russians defeated at, ; a review of the battle-field, struggle between the french and the russians, ; fire of the english battery, ; last effort of the russians, _ib._; their retreat, _ib._; memorials of the fight, ; excursion to the, after the armistice, tchongar, its defences, telegraph, information by, ; at alma, tenedos, mount, thaw, effects of a, , theatre, play-bill of the, ; acting in the, , therapia, number of wounded officers at, thomas, general, at the alma, thompson, dr., ; death of, tice, dr., _times_, commissioner, various articles sent by the, ; his valuable supplies to the troops, _ib._ timoyoieff, general, his negotiations respecting the armistice, ; characteristics of, tornado, its violence, torrens, brig.-general, at inkerman, traktir, hamlet of, traktir bridge, novel scene at the, _et seq._; armistice signed at the, transport, want of, at varna, transports to the crimea, trenches, terrible state of the, ; conversations in the, ; service in the, troad, the, trochu, colonel, truce, flags of, ; see _armistice_ tryon, lieut., death of, turco-egyptian troops at varna, turkey, her independence menaced, ; protection of her christian subjects, ; her need of reform, turkish commission, its difficulties, turkish forces, strength of the, turks, their opinion of the english and the french, ; their apathy, , ; at sebastopol, ; their redoubts, ; their flight from the russian attack, ; employed in the trenches, ; their inefficiency, , ; their dreadful state in balaklava, ; their removal from balaklava, ; , infantry join the besiegers before sebastopol, ; their dress and appearance, _ib._; reconnaissance by the, ; their position in asia minor, ; their plundering disposition, , turner, commissary-general, tylden, brigadier-general, of the engineers, death of, unett, colonel, killed, uniforms of the french and english, upton, mr., capture of, valetta, arrival of the british troops at, ; of the french troops, , _valetta_, the transport, varna, conferences at, between omar pasha and the allied generals, ; departure of the troops at, ; arrival at, _ib._; town of, described, , ; march from, ; improvements at, ; surrounding country of, _ib._; animals of, _ib._; natives of, _ib._; inconveniences at, ; further arrival of troops at, , ; council of war at, ; cholera at, ; great fire at, ; council of war at, ; determine on invading the crimea, _ib._; the army embarks from, varnutka, valley of, vatika bay, landing at, vegetables and fruits, mismanagement in their supply, veliki, lake of, vicars, captain, killed, victor, colonel, victoria, queen, celebration of her birthday in turkey, vivandière, the, wallachia occupied by omar pasha, walpole, mr., leader of the indian osmanli, walsham, lieutenant, war, its false economy, , ; dreadful picture of the horrors of, _et seq._; havoc of, _et seq._ warren, colonel, his bravery at the alma, weare, captain, weather, improvements in the, ; state of the, ; returning mildness of the, ; effects of the, wellington, duke of, his circular to commanding officers in , - wells of the crimea, , welsh fusileers, monument to their officers slain at the alma, wetherall, colonel, "whistling dick," white buildings of sebastopol, destruction of the, whitmore, captain, wild-fowl shooting in the crimea, , wild-fowl of the crimea, windham, colonel, bravery of, , , ; goes for assistance, ; his promotion, winter of , four months of, ; its severity, winter encampments round sebastopol, _et seq._; requisitions, &c., evil system of, , winter quarters, preparations for, , wolff, admiral, woronzoff, colonel, palace of, woronzoff road, , , , , wrangel, general von, his hospitality, yalta, visit to, yea, colonel, yellon, deputy-assistant-commissary, killed, yenikale, capture of, ; town of, ; destruction and plunder at, - yursakova, town of, yusuf, general, , zouaves, their dress and appearance, ; their martial bearing and equipments, , ; their pillaging propensities, , , ; their bravery at the alma, ; at the tchernaya, ; at inkerman, ; our gay and gallant friends, ; their activity and bravery, ; review of the, ; their capture of the mamelon, footnotes: [ ] the letter which appeared in the _times_ giving an account of the battle of the alma was written at a plank which captain montagu's sappers put on two barrels to form a table. [ ] the districts which were the scenes of such brutal excesses in the suppression of a conspiracy are not in bulgaria. [ ] the rd battalion grenadier guards, and st battalion coldstream guards. the st battalion scots fusilier guards embarked on february th. [ ] this was a timely warning--almost a prophetic warning--sounded long ere a british soldier set foot in the east. [ ] it is a fact that at one time the turks were busily engaged strengthening the batteries at the entrance of the dardanelles, in order to prevent the entrance of the allied fleets without their consent. [ ] it did happen that a russian man-of-war very nearly captured one of our screw transports off the mouth of the bosphorus as she was running up to varna with the commissariat chest full of gold on board. [ ] the french aver that it was our tardiness. [ ] now lord strathnairn. [ ] it seems to have been a sort of passion with the french to be "the first" to do everything--or was it a passion with our generals to be second? our allies were the first at gallipoli, first at varna, first in the crimea--all our attacks depended on them. they attacked first at the alma, and when they turned the russian right our attack was to take place. they also attacked first in the two great assaults, and our assaults were made to depend on the success of their demonstrations. [ ] no. company of the nd royal welsh fusileers now claim the honour, and colonel lysons, who was in the boat along with lieutenant drew, asserts that he was the first man to spring on shore. [ ] lord raglan and staff, and several officers of rank, remained on board ship that night. his lordship did not take up his quarters on shore till the next day. [ ] they were thrown out of the commissariat araba, in which they had been placed by order of the commissariat-general, and were abandoned to the cossacks, so i never saw them again. it was found necessary to make room for some of the reserve ammunition which had been stowed in arabas that broke down on the march. [ ] he must mean a few sotnias of cossacks. the cavalry were on the right flank. [ ] as an instance of the difficulty of obtaining accurate information respecting the incidents of a general action, i may state that captain henry, an officer promoted from the ranks for his distinguished bravery, and who has received the order of victoria, told me that the guns were taken over a bridge, and not over a ford--that he was with the first gun, that no wheeler was killed, and that he fired _only_ on russian _infantry_, and never directed a _round_ against the russian _guns_. in most of these statements it is probable the gallant officer was mistaken, although actually present. [ ] since this was written, it appears that the crimea is to be blessed with a russian railroad to theodosia; but it is doubtful whether it will be used for other and better objects than that for which the rail was first laid down on its soil. [ ] this was written on the nd of february, . on the th of september the enemy retired to the north side, where they remained when we left the crimea. [ ] mr. gould, the ornithologist, informs me that the crimea is not, to his knowledge, among the habitats of the "summer duck." [ ] this suggestion was acted on, and sanitary commissioners were sent out later in the year. [ ] mr. beatty, the able, kind, and deserving gentleman who was in charge of the line, received injuries which laid the foundation of a disease that afterwards proved fatal. [ ] sir stephen lushington, in his report, seems to have been under the impression that the ladders were properly placed. he laboured under a grave delusion. [ ] the creation of an order of merit and valour, which i took every occasion of recommending, and for which i suggested the name "victoria" in one of my letters, as the most expressive and appropriate, has since been carried out. [ ] it was, as i have since heard, caused by a barrel of tar at the top of the shears, which was placed there in order to light up the dockyards, where the russians were embarking their wounded and stores for the north side. [ ] on the th june, lord raglan and staff were stationed in the parallel of the right attack, close behind the quarries, where they were exposed to heavy fire, but were close to the scene of the assault. the position in which general simpson was placed by the engineers was far from the redan, and was separated from the trenches by the woronzoff ravine. [ ] a private named o'brien led them, or at least was the first to leap out of the trench, and was shot through the back as he was crossing the ditch by a russian above him. [ ] very unfavourable comments have been made upon major-general (then colonel and acting brigadier) windham's conduct in leaving the redan at such a moment, and some french officers did not hesitate to speak of his "desertion" of his men, as they called it, in the severest terms. i have therefore thought it advisable to give the lengthened statement, which was furnished to me on the best authority the very day after the assault, of the motives which led general windham to quit the redan, and of the circumstances which preceded and followed that proceeding. i offer no opinion on the merits of the controversy. i merely state what were presented to me--i believe correctly--as facts by one who ought to have been conversant with them.--w. h. russell. [ ] sir w. codrington, who acted with great gallantry at the alma, and who proved himself a most careful and excellent brigadier and a zealous general of division, denied at the time, in a letter which came under my notice, that he was at all discomposed by the untoward events of the th of september. but a man, under such circumstances, is not the best judge of his own acts; and though i have the highest admiration for general codrington's bravery, honesty, simplicity of mind, and character, and soldierly qualities, i think it right to retain the statement which i made on the faith of officers who had opportunities of observing him on that day, when he was indeed charged with enormous responsibility, and subjected to the severest test by which a general can be tried. [ ] joined the squadron at odessa. [ ] "je suis radicalement opposé." [ ] "do not attack odessa unless you are certain of succeeding." [ ] the ascent of the bug or the dnieper is only to be attempted by vessels with shot-proof screens and proof decks, inasmuch as every man could be picked off the decks by minié riflemen, unless the banks of the river were cleared by troops in numbers sufficient to beat back the enemy as they advanced. in spite of our operations in the sea of azoff, let it be remembered that we did not reduce arabat or genitchi, and that the russians had free use of the spit. the water of the sea is frozen in winter to the distance of several miles, so that no boat can approach to prevent the passage of troops or convoys. had arabat fallen, and an expedition landed at kaffa or theodosia, we should have been masters of the peninsula of kertch. the want of wisdom and foresight of most of our military operations in burning, laying waste, and blowing up, was never better exemplified than at kertch. there was a very fine barrack near the quarantine station, on the bay of kertch, recently built, provided with every comfort, and well supplied with water from a deep well, and with capacious tanks. in the ordinary exercise of reason these buildings should have been preserved, inasmuch as it had been determined to keep a british force at kertch; but, before sir george brown left, they were burnt and reduced to a heap of blackened ruins. during the following winter, with infinite labour and trouble, and at prodigious expense, we were obliged to _send the materials for huts_ to kertch, and drag them up close to the site of the barracks, where they formed a very poor protection against the weather in comparison with the substantial buildings which we destroyed. as the tanks were ruined and the well spoiled, the men were compelled to drag water a distance of three miles to their new residence. [ ] i do not allude to the advice given by sir de lacy evans, who was so strongly impressed with the falseness and insecurity of our position in a military sense, that he recommended lord raglan to retire from it, as much as to the opinions of those generals who maintained that we had no business in the crimea at all. [ ] notwithstanding a reckless assertion in major calthorpe's letters, i have the best authority for reiterating the statement that lord lyons looked with disfavour on the flank march. [ ] the russians, it will be said, were on the north side, and yet they could not drive us out of the south side. but the russians had no fleet. even as it was, we never were in strong military force on the south side, and our boats never ventured on the waters of the harbour. [ ] every officer of the crimean army will readily concur with me in saying that a kindlier, more zealous, or more able public servant than mr. beatty never existed. we all deeply regretted his death. [ ] major-general barnard. [ ] a very accurate and interesting memorial has been written by captain brine, r.e., illustrated with admirable sketches by major the hon. e. colborne, and published by ackerman, regent street. * * * * * typographical errors corrected by the etext transcriber: je suis radicalement oppose=> je suis radicalement opposé {pg } light divison=> light division {pg } appeared to be be kept=> appeared to be kept {pg } opportuity=> opportunity {pg } crosssd=> crossed {pg } divison=> division {pg } lancastar=> lancaster {pg } havresacks=> haversacks {pg } of of => of {pg } quarantime fort=> quarantine fort {pg } earthworth of quadrilateral form=> earthwork of quadrilateral form {pg } halycon=> halcyon {pg } prepared againts=> prepared against {pg } enciente=> enceinte {pg } suggested by by=> suggested by {pg } could not not describe=> could not describe {pg } dysentry=> dysentery {pg } beame=> became {pg } maison bruleé=> maison brulée {pg } parrallels=> parallels {pg } the managment=> the management {pg } the navvy's barrow=> the navy's barrow {pg } scarely=> scarcely {pg } seriously disabled=> seriously disable {pg } twiced blessed=> twice blessed {pg } chasseurs indigenes=> chasseurs indigènes {pg } bear the whole brunt=> bears the whole brunt {pg } between=> beween {pg } these was sometimes=> there was sometimes {pg } the austrian consul was found to have a large store of corn, which he concealed in magazines painted and decorated to pass as part of his dwelling-house. it was all destroyed. amid the necessary destruction, private plunderers found facility for their work. along the quay there was a long line of walls, which once were the fronts of store-houses, magazines, mansions, and palaces. they soon became empty shells, hollow and roofless, with fire burning luridly within them by night, and streaks and clouds of parti-coloured smoke arising from them by day. the white walls were barred with black bands where the fire had rushed out of the window-frames. these store-houses belonged to russians, and were full of corn--these magazines were the enemy's--these mansions belonged to their nobles and governors--and these palaces were the residences of their princes and rulers; and so far we carried on war with all the privileges of war, and used all the consequences of conquest. in the whole lengthened front facing the sea, and the wide quay which borders it, there was not an edifice untouched but one. this was a fine mansion, with a grand semicircular front, ornamented with rich entablatures and a few grecian pillars. the windows permitted one to see massive mirrors and the framework of pictures and the glitter of brasswork. inside the open door an old man in an arm-chair received everybody. how deferential he was! how he bowed! how graceful, deprecatory, and soothing the modulation of his trunk and arms! but these were nothing to his smile. his face seemed a kind of laughing-clock, wound up to act for so many hours. when the machinery was feeble, towards evening, the laugh degenerated into a grin, but he managed with nods, and cheeks wreathed in smiles, and a little bad german and french, to inform all comers that this house was specially under english and french protection, to save it from plunder and pillage. the house belonged, _on dit_, to prince woronzoff, and the guardian angel was an aged servitor of the prince. being paralytic, he was left behind; and did good service in his arm-chair. the silence and desolation of places which a few days before were full of people, were exceedingly painful and distressing. they were found in every street, almost in every house, except when the noise of gentlemen playing on pianos with their boot-heels or breaking up furniture was heard within the houses or the flames crackled within the walls. in some instances the people had hoisted the french or sardinian flag to protect their houses. that poor device was soon detected and frustrated. it was astonishing to find that the humblest dwellings had not escaped. they must have been invaded for the mere purpose of outrage and from the love of mischief, for the most miserable of men could have but little hope of discovering within them booty worthy of his notice.=> repeat of page removed {pg - } kertch and yenikalè=> kertch and yenikale {pg x } bastion du mat=> bastion du mât {pg , } confiedently affirmed=> confidently affirmed {pg } divisoin=> division {pg } her novel birth=> her novel berth {pg } resources the of russians=> resources of the russians {pg } on the th it marked ° fahrenheit=> on the th it marked ° fahrenheit {pg } teh bugle=> the bugle {pg } tchnernaya=> tchernaya {pg } why the deuce doesn't go it off=> why the deuce doesn't it go off {pg } them came a big puff=> then came a big puff {pg } widely-spead rumour=> widely-spread rumour {pg } neigbourhood=> neighbourhood {pg } gaud jays=> gaudy jays {pg } petersburgh=> petersburg {pg } house of fine fine=> house of fine {pg } have surrenderad=> have surrendered {pg } catchcart's hill=> cathcart's hill {pg } i must point out out=> i must point out {pg } consesequence=> consequence {pg } with the ocnsent=> with the consent {pg } available by internet archive (https://archive.org) note: images of the original pages are available through internet archive. see https://archive.org/details/mydisillusionmen golduoft my disillusionment in russia by emma goldman [illustration: decoration] garden city new york doubleday, page & company copyright, , by doubleday, page & company all rights reserved, including that of translation into foreign languages, including the scandinavian printed in the united states at the country life press, garden city, n. y. first edition preface the decision to record my experiences, observations, and reactions during my stay in russia i had made long before i thought of leaving that country. in fact, that was my main reason for departing from that tragically heroic land. the strongest of us are loath to give up a long-cherished dream. i had come to russia possessed by the hope that i should find a new-born country, with its people wholly consecrated to the great, though very difficult, task of revolutionary reconstruction. and i had fervently hoped that i might become an active part of the inspiring work. i found reality in russia grotesque, totally unlike the great ideal that had borne me upon the crest of high hope to the land of promise. it required fifteen long months before i could get my bearings. each day, each week, each month added new links to the fatal chain that pulled down my cherished edifice. i fought desperately against the disillusionment. for a long time i strove against the still voice within me which urged me to face the overpowering facts. i would not and could not give up. then came kronstadt. it was the final wrench. it completed the terrible realization that the russian revolution was no more. i saw before me the bolshevik state, formidable, crushing every constructive revolutionary effort, suppressing, debasing, and disintegrating everything. unable and unwilling to become a cog in that sinister machine, and aware that i could be of no practical use to russia and her people, i decided to leave the country. once out of it, i would relate honestly, frankly, and as objectively as humanly possible to me the story of my two years' stay in russia. i left in december, . i could have written then, fresh under the influence of the ghastly experience. but i waited four months before i could bring myself to write a series of articles. i delayed another four months before beginning the present volume. i do not pretend to write a history. removed by fifty or a hundred years from the events he is describing, the historian may seem to be objective. but real history is not a compilation of mere data. it is valueless without the human element which the historian necessarily gets from the writings of the contemporaries of the events in question. it is the personal reactions of the participants and observers which lend vitality to all history and make it vivid and alive. thus, numerous histories have been written of the french revolution; yet there are only a very few that stand out true and convincing, illuminative in the degree in which the historian has _felt_ his subject through the medium of human documents left by the contemporaries of the period. i myself--and i believe, most students of history--have felt and visualized the great french revolution much more vitally from the letters and diaries of contemporaries, such as mme. roland, mirabeau, and other eye witnesses, than from the so-called objective historians. by a strange coincidence a volume of letters written during the french revolution, and compiled by the able german anarchist publicist, gustav landauer, came into my hands during the most critical period of my russian experience. i was actually reading them while hearing the bolshevik artillery begin the bombardment of the kronstadt rebels. those letters gave me a most vivid insight into the events of the french revolution. as never before they brought home to me the realization that the bolshevik régime in russia was, on the whole, a significant replica of what had happened in france more than a century before. great interpreters of the french revolution, like thomas carlyle and peter kropotkin, drew their understanding and inspiration from the human records of the period. similarly will the future historians of the great russian revolution--if they are to write real history and not a mere compilation of facts--draw from the impressions and reactions of those who have lived through the russian revolution, who have shared the misery and travail of the people, and who actually participated in or witnessed the tragic panorama in its daily unfoldment. while in russia i had no clear idea how much had already been written on the subject of the russian revolution. but the few books which reached me occasionally impressed me as most inadequate. they were written by people with no first-hand knowledge of the situation and were sadly superficial. some of the writers had spent from two weeks to two months in russia, did not know the language of the country, and in most instances were chaperoned by official guides and interpreters. i do not refer here to the writers who, in and out of russia, play the rôle of bolshevik court functionaries. they are a class apart. with them i deal in the chapter on the "travelling salesmen of the revolution." here i have in mind the sincere friends of the russian revolution. the work of most of them has resulted in incalculable confusion and mischief. they have helped to perpetuate the myth that the bolsheviki and the revolution are synonymous. yet nothing is further from the truth. the _actual_ russian revolution took place in the summer months of . during that period the peasants possessed themselves of the land, the workers of the factories, thus demonstrating that they knew well the meaning of social revolution. the october change was the finishing touch to the work begun six months previously. in the great uprising the bolsheviki assumed the voice of the people. they clothed themselves with the agrarian programme of the social revolutionists and the industrial tactics of the anarchists. but after the high tide of revolutionary enthusiasm had carried them into power, the bolsheviki discarded their false plumes. it was then that began the spiritual separation between the bolsheviki and the russian revolution. with each succeeding day the gap grew wider, their interests more conflicting. to-day it is no exaggeration to state that the bolsheviki stand as the arch enemies of the russian revolution. superstitions die hard. in the case of this modern superstition the process is doubly hard because various factors have combined to administer artificial respiration. international intervention, the blockade, and the very efficient world propaganda of the communist party have kept the bolshevik myth alive. even the terrible famine is being exploited to that end. how powerful a hold that superstition wields i realize from my own experience. i had always known that the bolsheviki are marxists. for thirty years i fought the marxian theory as a cold, mechanistic, enslaving formula. in pamphlets, lectures, and debates i argued against it. i was therefore not unaware of what might be expected from the bolsheviki. but the allied attack upon them made them the symbol of the russian revolution, and brought me to their defence. from november, , until february, , while out on bail for my attitude against the war, i toured america in defence of the bolsheviki. i published a pamphlet in elucidation of the russian revolution and in justification of the bolsheviki. i defended them as embodying _in practice_ the spirit of the revolution, in spite of their theoretic marxism. my attitude toward them at that time is characterized in the following passages from my pamphlet, "the truth about the bolsheviki:"[ ] the russian revolution is a miracle in more than one respect. among other extraordinary paradoxes it presents the phenomenon of the marxian social democrats, lenin and trotsky, adopting anarchist revolutionary tactics, while the anarchists kropotkin, tcherkessov, tschaikovsky are denying these tactics and falling into marxian reasoning, which they had all their lives repudiated as "german metaphysics." the bolsheviki of , though revolutionists, adhered to the marxian doctrine concerning the industrialization of russia and the historic mission of the bourgeoisie as a necessary evolutionary process before the russian masses could come into their own. the bolsheviki of no longer believe in the predestined function of the bourgeoisie. they have been swept forward on the waves of the revolution to the point of view held by the anarchists since bakunin; namely, that once the masses become conscious of their economic power, they make their own history and need not be bound by traditions and processes of a dead past which, like secret treaties, are made at a round table and are not dictated by life itself. in , madame breshkovsky visited the united states and began her campaign against the bolsheviki. i was then in the missouri penitentiary. grieved and shocked by the work of the "little grandmother of the russian revolution," i wrote imploring her to bethink herself and not betray the cause she had given her life to. on that occasion i emphasized the fact that while neither of us agreed with the bolsheviki in theory, we should yet be one with them in defending the revolution. when the courts of the state of new york upheld the fraudulent methods by which i was disfranchised and my american citizenship of thirty-two years denied me, i waived my right of appeal in order that i might return to russia and help in the great work. i believed fervently that the bolsheviki were furthering the revolution and exerting themselves in behalf of the people. i clung to my faith and belief for more than a year after my coming to russia. observation and study, extensive travel through various parts of the country, meeting with every shade of political opinion and every variety of friend and enemy of the bolsheviki--all convinced me of the ghastly delusion which had been foisted upon the world. i refer to these circumstances to indicate that my change of mind and heart was a painful and difficult process, and that my final decision to speak out is for the sole reason that the people everywhere may learn to differentiate between the bolsheviki and the russian revolution. the conventional conception of gratitude is that one must not be critical of those who have shown him kindness. thanks to this notion parents enslave their children more effectively than by brutal treatment; and by it friends tyrannize over one another. in fact, all human relationships are to-day vitiated by this noxious idea. some people have upbraided me for my critical attitude toward the bolsheviki. "how ungrateful to attack the communist government after the hospitality and kindness she enjoyed in russia," they indignantly exclaim. i do not mean to gainsay that i have received advantages while i was in russia. i could have received many more had i been willing to serve the powers that be. it is that very circumstance which has made it bitter hard for me to speak out against the evils as i saw them day by day. but finally i realized that silence is indeed a sign of consent. not to cry out against the betrayal of the russian revolution would have made me a party to that betrayal. the revolution and the welfare of the masses in and out of russia are by far too important to me to allow any personal consideration for the communists i have met and learned to respect to obscure my sense of justice and to cause me to refrain from giving to the world my two years' experience in russia. in certain quarters objections will no doubt be raised because i have given no names of the persons i am quoting. some may even exploit the fact to discredit my veracity. but i prefer to face that rather than to turn any one over to the tender mercies of the tcheka, which would inevitably result were i to divulge the names of the communists or non-communists who felt free to speak to me. those familiar with the real situation in russia and who are not under the mesmeric influence of the bolshevik superstition or in the employ of the communists will bear me out that i have given a true picture. the rest of the world will learn in due time. friends whose opinion i value have been good enough to suggest that my quarrel with the bolsheviki is due to my social philosophy rather than to the failure of the bolshevik régime. as an anarchist, they claim, i would naturally insist on the importance of the individual and of personal liberty, but in the revolutionary period both must be subordinated to the good of the whole. other friends point out that destruction, violence, and terrorism are inevitable factors in a revolution. as a revolutionist, they say, i cannot consistently object to the violence practised by the bolsheviki. both these criticisms would be justified had i come to russia expecting to find anarchism realized, or if i were to maintain that revolutions can be made peacefully. anarchism to me never was a mechanistic arrangement of social relationships to be imposed upon man by political scene-shifting or by a transfer of power from one social class to another. anarchism to me was and is the child, not of destruction, but of construction--the result of growth and development of the conscious creative social efforts of a regenerated people. i do not therefore expect anarchism to follow in the immediate footsteps of centuries of despotism and submission. and i certainly did not expect to see it ushered in by the marxian theory. i did, however, hope to find in russia at least the beginnings of the social changes for which the revolution had been fought. not the fate of the individual was my main concern as a revolutionist. i should have been content if the russian workers and peasants as a whole had derived essential social betterment as a result of the bolshevik régime. two years of earnest study, investigation, and research convinced me that the great benefits brought to the russian people by bolshevism exist only on paper, painted in glowing colours to the masses of europe and america by efficient bolshevik propaganda. as advertising wizards the bolsheviki excel anything the world had ever known before. but in reality the russian people have gained nothing from the bolshevik experiment. to be sure, the peasants have the land; not by the grace of the bolsheviki, but through their own direct efforts, set in motion long before the october change. that the peasants were able to retain the land is due mostly to the static slav tenacity; owing to the circumstance that they form by far the largest part of the population and are deeply rooted in the soil, they could not as easily be torn away from it as the workers from their means of production. the russian workers, like the peasants, also employed direct action. they possessed themselves of the factories, organized their own shop committees, and were virtually in control of the economic life of russia. but soon they were stripped of their power and placed under the industrial yoke of the bolshevik state. chattel slavery became the lot of the russian proletariat. it was suppressed and exploited in the name of something which was later to bring it comfort, light, and warmth. try as i might i could find nowhere any evidence of benefits received either by the workers or the peasants from the bolshevik régime. on the other hand, i did find the revolutionary faith of the people broken, the spirit of solidarity crushed, the meaning of comradeship and mutual helpfulness distorted. one must have lived in russia, close to the everyday affairs of the people; one must have seen and felt their utter disillusionment and despair to appreciate fully the disintegrating effect of the bolshevik principle and methods--disintegrating all that was once the pride and the glory of revolutionary russia. the argument that destruction and terror are part of revolution i do not dispute. i know that in the past every great political and social change necessitated violence. america might still be under the british yoke but for the heroic colonists who dared to oppose british tyranny by force of arms. black slavery might still be a legalized institution in the united states but for the militant spirit of the john browns. i have never denied that violence is inevitable, nor do i gainsay it now. yet it is one thing to employ violence in combat, as a means of defence. it is quite another thing to make a principle of terrorism, to institutionalize it, to assign it the most vital place in the social struggle. such terrorism begets counter-revolution and in turn itself becomes counter-revolutionary. rarely has a revolution been fought with as little violence as the russian revolution. nor would have red terror followed had the people and the cultural forces remained in control of the revolution. this was demonstrated by the spirit of fellowship and solidarity which prevailed throughout russia during the first months after the october revolution. but an insignificant minority bent on creating an absolute state is necessarily driven to oppression and terrorism. there is another objection to my criticism on the part of the communists. russia is on strike, they say, and it is unethical for a revolutionist to side against the workers when they are striking against their masters. that is pure demagoguery practised by the bolsheviki to silence criticism. it is not true that the russian people are on strike. on the contrary, the truth of the matter is that the russian people have been _locked out_ and that the bolshevik state--even as the bourgeois industrial master--uses the sword and the gun to keep the people out. in the case of the bolsheviki this tyranny is masked by a world-stirring slogan: thus they have succeeded in blinding the masses. just because i am a revolutionist i refuse to side with the master class, which in russia is called the communist party. till the end of my days my place shall be with the disinherited and oppressed. it is immaterial to me whether tyranny rules in the kremlin or in any other seat of the mighty. i could do nothing for suffering russia while in that country. perhaps i can do something now by pointing out the lessons of the russian experience. not my concern for the russian people only has prompted the writing of this volume: it is my interest in the masses everywhere. the masses, like the individual, may not readily learn from the experience of others. yet those who have gained the experience must speak out, if for no other reason than that they cannot in justice to themselves and their ideal support the great delusion revealed to them. emma goldman. berlin, july, . footnote: [ ] mother earth publishing association, new york, february, . contents page preface v chapter i. deportation to russia ii. petrograd iii. disturbing thoughts iv. moscow: first impressions v. meeting people vi. preparing for american deportees vii. rest homes for workers viii. the first of may in petrograd ix. industrial militarization x. the british labour mission xi. a visit from the ukraina xii. beneath the surface xiii. joining the museum of the revolution xiv. petropavlovsk and schlÜsselburg xv. the trade unions xvi. maria spiridonova xvii. another visit to peter kropotkin xviii. en route xix. in kharkov xx. poltava xxi. kiev my disillusionment in russia chapter i deportation to russia on the night of december , , together with two hundred and forty-eight other political prisoners, i was deported from america. although it was generally known we were to be deported, few really believed that the united states would so completely deny her past as an asylum for political refugees, some of whom had lived and worked in america for more than thirty years. in my own case, the decision to eliminate me first became known when, in , the federal authorities went out of their way to disfranchise the man whose name gave me citizenship. that washington waited till was due to the circumstance that the psychologic moment for the finale was lacking. perhaps i should have contested my case at that time. with the then-prevalent public opinion, the courts would probably not have sustained the fraudulent proceedings which robbed me of citizenship. but it did not seem credible then that america would stoop to the tsaristic method of deportation. our anti-war agitation added fuel to the war hysteria of , and thus furnished the federal authorities with the desired opportunity to complete the conspiracy begun against me in rochester, n. y., . it was on december , , while in chicago lecturing, that i was telegraphically apprised of the fact that the order for my deportation was final. the question of my citizenship was then raised in court, but was of course decided adversely. i had intended to take the case to a higher tribunal, but finally i decided to carry the matter no further: soviet russia was luring me. ludicrously secretive were the authorities about our deportation. to the very last moment we were kept in ignorance as to the time. then, unexpectedly, in the wee small hours of december st we were spirited away. the scene set for this performance was most thrilling. it was six o'clock sunday morning, december , , when under heavy military convoy we stepped aboard the _buford_. for twenty-eight days we were prisoners. sentries at our cabin doors day and night, sentries on deck during the hour we were daily permitted to breathe the fresh air. our men comrades were cooped up in dark, damp quarters, wretchedly fed, all of us in complete ignorance of the direction we were to take. yet our spirits were high--russia, free, new russia was before us. all my life russia's heroic struggle for freedom was as a beacon to me. the revolutionary zeal of her martyred men and women, which neither fortress nor _katorga_ could suppress, was my inspiration in the darkest hours. when the news of the february revolution flashed across the world, i longed to hasten to the land which had performed the miracle and had freed her people from the age-old yoke of tsarism. but america held me. the thought of thirty years of struggle for my ideals, of my friends and associates, made it impossible to tear myself away. i would go to russia later, i thought. then came america's entry into the war and the need of remaining true to the american people who were swept into the hurricane against their will. after all, i owed a great debt, i owed my growth and development to what was finest and best in america, to her fighters for liberty, to the sons and daughters of the revolution to come. i would be true to them. but the frenzied militarists soon terminated my work. at last i was bound for russia and all else was almost blotted out. i would behold with mine own eyes _matushka rossiya_, the land freed from political and economic masters; the russian _dubinushka_, as the peasant was called, raised from the dust; the russian worker, the modern samson, who with a sweep of his mighty arm had pulled down the pillars of decaying society. the twenty-eight days on our floating prison passed in a sort of trance. i was hardly conscious of my surroundings. finally we reached finland, across which we were forced to journey in sealed cars. on the russian border we were met by a committee of the soviet government, headed by zorin. they had come to greet the first political refugees driven from america for opinion's sake. it was a cold day, with the earth a sheet of white, but spring was in our hearts. soon we were to behold revolutionary russia. i preferred to be alone when i touched the sacred soil: my exaltation was too great, and i feared i might not be able to control my emotion. when i reached beloöstrov the first enthusiastic reception tendered the refugees was over, but the place was still surcharged with intensity of feeling. i could sense the awe and humility of our group who, treated like felons in the united states, were here received as dear brothers and comrades and welcomed by the red soldiers, the liberators of russia. from beloöstrov we were driven to the village where another reception had been prepared: a dark hall filled to suffocation, the platform lit up by tallow candles, a huge red flag, on the stage a group of women in black nuns' attire. i stood as in a dream in the breathless silence. suddenly a voice rang out. it beat like metal on my ears and seemed uninspired, but it spoke of the great suffering of the russian people and of the enemies of the revolution. others addressed the audience, but i was held by the women in black, their faces ghastly in the yellow light. were these really nuns? had the revolution penetrated even the walls of superstition? had the red dawn broken into the narrow lives of these ascetics? it all seemed strange, fascinating. somehow i found myself on the platform. i could only blurt out that like my comrades i had not come to russia to teach: i had come to learn, to draw sustenance and hope from her, to lay down my life on the altar of the revolution. after the meeting we were escorted to the waiting petrograd train, the women in the black hood intoning the "internationale," the whole audience joining in. i was in the car with our host, zorin, who had lived in america and spoke english fluently. he talked enthusiastically about the soviet government and its marvellous achievements. his conversation was illuminative, but one phrase struck me as discordant. speaking of the political organization of his party, he remarked: "tammany hall has nothing on us, and as to boss murphy, we could teach him a thing or two." i thought the man was jesting. what relation could there be between tammany hall, boss murphy, and the soviet government? i inquired about our comrades who had hastened from america at the first news of the revolution. many of them had died at the front, zorin informed me, others were working with the soviet government. and shatov? william shatov, a brilliant speaker and able organizer, was a well-known figure in america, frequently associated with us in our work. we had sent him a telegram from finland and were much surprised at his failure to reply. why did not shatov come to meet us? "shatov had to leave for siberia, where he is to take the post of minister of railways," said zorin. in petrograd our group again received an ovation. then the deportees were taken to the famous tauride palace, where they were to be fed and housed for the night. zorin asked alexander berkman and myself to accept his hospitality. we entered the waiting automobile. the city was dark and deserted; not a living soul to be seen anywhere. we had not gone very far when the car was suddenly halted, and an electric light flashed into our eyes. it was the militia, demanding the password. petrograd had recently fought back the yudenitch attack and was still under martial law. the process was repeated frequently along the route. shortly before we reached our destination we passed a well-lighted building. "it is our station house," zorin explained, "but we have few prisoners there now. capital punishment is abolished and we have recently proclaimed a general political amnesty." presently the automobile came to a halt. "the first house of the soviets," said zorin, "the living place of the most active members of our party." zorin and his wife occupied two rooms, simply but comfortably furnished. tea and refreshments were served, and our hosts entertained us with the absorbing story of the marvellous defence the petrograd workers had organized against the yudenitch forces. how heroically the men and women, even the children, had rushed to the defence of the red city! what wonderful self-discipline and coöperation the proletariat demonstrated. the evening passed in these reminiscences, and i was about to retire to the room secured for me when a young woman arrived who introduced herself as the sister-in-law of "bill" shatov. she greeted us warmly and asked us to come up to see her sister who lived on the floor above. when we reached their apartment i found myself embraced by big jovial bill himself. how strange of zorin to tell me that shatov had left for siberia! what did it mean? shatov explained that he had been ordered not to meet us at the border, to prevent his giving us our first impressions of soviet russia. he had fallen into disfavour with the government and was being sent to siberia into virtual exile. his trip had been delayed and therefore we still happened to find him. we spent much time with shatov before he left petrograd. for whole days i listened to his story of the revolution, with its light and shadows, and the developing tendency of the bolsheviki toward the right. shatov, however, insisted that it was necessary for all the revolutionary elements to work with the bolsheviki government. of course, the communists had made many mistakes, but what they did was inevitable, imposed upon them by allied interference and the blockade. a few days after our arrival zorin asked alexander berkman and myself to accompany him to smolny. smolny, the erstwhile boarding school for the daughters of the aristocracy, had been the centre of revolutionary events. almost every stone had played its part. now it was the seat of the petrograd government. i found the place heavily guarded and giving the impression of a beehive of officials and government employees. the department of the third international was particularly interesting. it was the domain of zinoviev. i was much impressed by the magnitude of it all. after showing us about, zorin invited us to the smolny dining room. the meal consisted of good soup, meat and potatoes, bread and tea--rather a good meal in starving russia, i thought. our group of deportees was quartered in smolny. i was anxious about my travelling companions, the two girls who had shared my cabin on the _buford_. i wished to take them back with me to the first house of the soviet. zorin sent for them. they arrived greatly excited and told us that the whole group of deportees had been placed under military guard. the news was startling. the people who had been driven out of america for their political opinions, now in revolutionary russia again prisoners--three days after their arrival. what had happened? we turned to zorin. he seemed embarrassed. "some mistake," he said, and immediately began to make inquiries. it developed that four ordinary criminals had been found among the politicals deported by the united states government, and therefore a guard was placed over the whole group. the proceeding seemed to me unjust and uncalled for. it was my first lesson in bolshevik methods. chapter ii petrograd my parents had moved to st. petersburg when i was thirteen. under the discipline of a german school in königsberg and the prussian attitude toward everything russian, i had grown up in the atmosphere of hatred to that country. i dreaded especially the terrible nihilists who had killed tsar alexander ii, so good and kind, as i had been taught. st. petersburg was to me an evil thing. but the gayety of the city, its vivacity and brilliancy, soon dispelled my childish fancies and made the city appear like a fairy dream. then my curiosity was aroused by the revolutionary mystery which seemed to hang over everyone, and of which no one dared to speak. when four years later i left with my sister for america i was no longer the german gretchen to whom russia spelt evil. my whole soul had been transformed and the seed planted for what was to be my life's work. especially did st. petersburg remain in my memory a vivid picture, full of life and mystery. i found petrograd of quite a different place. it was almost in ruins, as if a hurricane had swept over it. the houses looked like broken old tombs upon neglected and forgotten cemeteries. the streets were dirty and deserted; all life had gone from them. the population of petrograd before the war was almost two million; in it had dwindled to five hundred thousand. the people walked about like living corpses; the shortage of food and fuel was slowly sapping the city; grim death was clutching at its heart. emaciated and frost-bitten men, women, and children were being whipped by the common lash, the search for a piece of bread or a stick of wood. it was a heart-rending sight by day, an oppressive weight at night. especially were the nights of the first month in petrograd dreadful. the utter stillness of the large city was paralysing. it fairly haunted me, this awful oppressive silence broken only by occasional shots. i would lay awake trying to pierce the mystery. did not zorin say that capital punishment had been abolished? why this shooting? doubts disturbed my mind, but i tried to wave them aside. i had come to learn. much of my first knowledge and impressions of the october revolution and the events that followed i received from the zorins. as already mentioned, both had lived in america, spoke english, and were eager to enlighten me upon the history of the revolution. they were devoted to the cause and worked very hard; he, especially, who was secretary of the petrograd committee of his party, besides editing the daily, _krasnaya gazetta_, and participating in other activities. it was from zorin that i first learned about that legendary figure, makhno. the latter was an anarchist, i was informed, who under the tsar had been sentenced to _katorga_. liberated by the february revolution, he became the leader of a peasant army in the ukraina, proving himself extremely able and daring and doing splendid work in the defence of the revolution. for some time makhno worked in harmony with the bolsheviki, fighting the counter-revolutionary forces. then he became antagonistic, and now his army, recruited from bandit elements, was fighting the bolsheviki. zorin related that he had been one of a committee sent to makhno to bring about an understanding. but makhno would not listen to reason. he continued his warfare against the soviets and was considered a dangerous counter-revolutionist. i had no means of verifying the story, and i was far from disbelieving the zorins. both appeared most sincere and dedicated to their work, types of religious zealots ready to burn the heretic, but equally ready to sacrifice their own lives for their cause. i was much impressed by the simplicity of their lives. holding a responsible position, zorin could have received special rations, but they lived very poorly, their supper often consisting only of herring, black bread, and tea. i thought it especially admirable because lisa zorin was with child at the time. two weeks after my arrival in russia i was invited to attend the alexander herzen commemoration in the winter palace. the white marble hall where the gathering took place seemed to intensify the bitter frost, but the people present were unmindful of the penetrating cold. i also was conscious only of the unique situation: alexander herzen, one of the most hated revolutionists of his time, honoured in the winter palace! frequently before the spirit of herzen had found its way into the house of the romanovs. it was when the "kolokol," published abroad and sparkling with the brilliancy of herzen and turgenev, would in some mysterious manner be discovered on the desk of the tsar. now the tsars were no more, but the spirit of herzen had risen again and was witnessing the realization of the dream of one of russia's great men. one evening i was informed that zinoviev had returned from moscow and would see me. he arrived about midnight. he looked very tired and was constantly disturbed by urgent messages. our talk was of a general nature, of the grave situation in russia, the shortage of food and fuel then particularly poignant, and about the labour situation in america. he was anxious to know "how soon the revolution could be expected in the united states." he left upon me no definite impression, but i was conscious of something lacking in the man, though i could not determine at the time just what it was. another communist i saw much of the first weeks was john reed. i had known him in america. he was living in the astoria, working hard and preparing for his return to the united states. he was to journey through latvia and he seemed apprehensive of the outcome. he had been in russia during the october days and this was his second visit. like shatov he also insisted that the dark sides of the bolshevik régime were inevitable. he believed fervently that the soviet government would emerge from its narrow party lines and that it would presently establish the communistic commonwealth. we spent much time together, discussing the various phases of the situation. so far i had met none of the anarchists and their failure to call rather surprised me. one day a friend i had known in the states came to inquire whether i would see several members of an anarchist organization. i readily assented. from them i learned a version of the russian revolution and the bolshevik régime utterly different from what i had heard before. it was so startling, so terrible that i could not believe it. they invited me to attend a small gathering they had called to present to me their views. the following sunday i went to their conference. passing nevsky prospekt, near liteiny street, i came upon a group of women huddled together to protect themselves from the cold. they were surrounded by soldiers, talking and gesticulating. those women, i learned, were prostitutes who were selling themselves for a pound of bread, a piece of soap or chocolate. the soldiers were the only ones who could afford to buy them because of their extra rations. prostitution in revolutionary russia. i wondered. what is the communist government doing for these unfortunates? what are the workers' and peasants' soviets doing? my escort smiled sadly. the soviet government had closed the houses of prostitution and was now trying to drive the women off the streets, but hunger and cold drove them back again; besides, the soldiers had to be humoured. it was too ghastly, too incredible to be real, yet there they were--those shivering creatures for sale and their buyers, the red defenders of the revolution. "the cursed interventionists, the blockade--they are responsible," said my escort. why, yes, the counter-revolutionists and the blockade are responsible, i reassured myself. i tried to dismiss the thought of that huddled group, but it clung to me. i felt something snap within me. at last we reached the anarchist quarters, in a dilapidated house in a filthy backyard. i was ushered into a small room crowded with men and women. the sight recalled pictures of thirty years ago when, persecuted and hunted from place to place, the anarchists in america were compelled to meet in a dingy hall on orchard street, new york, or in the dark rear room of a saloon. that was in capitalistic america. but this is revolutionary russia, which the anarchists had helped to free. why should they have to gather in secret and in such a place? that evening and the following day i listened to a recital of the betrayal of the revolution by the bolsheviki. workers from the baltic factories spoke of their enslavement, kronstadt sailors voiced their bitterness and indignation against the people they had helped to power and who had become their masters. one of the speakers had been condemned to death by the bolsheviki for his anarchist ideas, but had escaped and was now living illegally. he related how the sailors had been robbed of the freedom of their soviets, how every breath of life was being censored. others spoke of the red terror and repression in moscow, which resulted in the throwing of a bomb into the gathering of the moscow section of the communist party in september, . they told me of the over-filled prisons, of the violence practised on the workers and peasants. i listened rather impatiently, for everything in me cried out against this indictment. it sounded impossible; it could not be. someone was surely at fault, but probably it was they, my comrades, i thought. they were unreasonable, impatient for immediate results. was not violence inevitable in a revolution, and was it not imposed upon the bolsheviki by the interventionists? my comrades were indignant. "disguise yourself so the bolsheviki do not recognize you; take a pamphlet of kropotkin and try to distribute it in a soviet meeting. you will soon see whether we told you the truth. above all, get out of the first house of the soviet. live among the people and you will have all the proofs you need." how childish and trifling it all seemed in the face of the world event that was taking place in russia! no, i could not credit their stories. i would wait and study conditions. but my mind was in a turmoil, and the nights became more oppressive than ever. the day arrived when i was given a chance to attend the meeting of the petro-soviet. it was to be a double celebration in honour of the return of karl radek to russia and joffe's report on the peace treaty with esthonia. as usual i went with the zorins. the gathering was in the tauride palace, the former meeting place of the russian duma. every entrance to the hall was guarded by soldiers, the platform surrounded by them holding their guns at attention. the hall was crowded to the very doors. i was on the platform overlooking the sea of faces below. starved and wretched they looked, these sons and daughters of the people, the heroes of red petrograd. how they had suffered and endured for the revolution! i felt very humble before them. zinoviev presided. after the "internationale" had been sung by the audience standing, zinoviev opened the meeting. he spoke at length. his voice is high pitched, without depth. the moment i heard him i realized what i had missed in him at our first meeting--depth, strength of character. next came radek. he was clever, witty, sarcastic, and he paid his respects to the counter-revolutionists and to the white guards. altogether an interesting man and an interesting address. joffe looked the diplomat. well fed and groomed, he seemed rather out of place in that assembly. he spoke of the peace conditions with esthonia, which were received with enthusiasm by the audience. certainly these people wanted peace. would it ever come to russia? last spoke zorin, by far the ablest and most convincing that evening. then the meeting was thrown open to discussion. a menshevik asked for the floor. immediately pandemonium broke loose. yells of "traitor!" "kolchak!" "counter-revolutionist!" came from all parts of the audience and even from the platform. it looked to me like an unworthy proceeding for a revolutionary assembly. on the way home i spoke to zorin about it. he laughed. "free speech is a bourgeois superstition," he said; "during a revolutionary period there can be no free speech." i was rather dubious about the sweeping statement, but i felt that i had no right to judge. i was a newcomer, while the people at the tauride palace had sacrificed and suffered so much for the revolution. i had no right to judge. chapter iii disturbing thoughts life went on. each day brought new conflicting thoughts and emotions. the feature which affected me most was the inequality i witnessed in my immediate environment. i learned that the rations issued to the tenants of the first house of the soviet (astoria) were much superior to those received by the workers in the factories. to be sure, they were not sufficient to sustain life--but no one in the astoria lived from these rations alone. the members of the communist party, quartered in the astoria, worked in smolny, and the rations in smolny were the best in petrograd. moreover, trade was not entirely suppressed at that time. the markets were doing a lucrative business, though no one seemed able or willing to explain to me where the purchasing capacity came from. the workers could not afford to buy butter which was then , rubles a pound, sugar at , , or meat at , . the inequality was most apparent in the astoria kitchen. i went there frequently, though it was torture to prepare a meal: the savage scramble for an inch of space on the stove, the greedy watching of the women lest any one have something extra in the saucepan, the quarrels and screams when someone fished out a piece of meat from the pot of a neighbour! but there was one redeeming feature in the picture--it was the resentment of the servants who worked in the astoria. they were servants, though called comrades, and they felt keenly the inequality: the revolution to them was not a mere theory to be realized in years to come. it was a living thing. i was made aware of it one day. the rations were distributed at the commissary, but one had to fetch them himself. one day, while waiting my turn in the long line, a peasant girl came in and asked for vinegar. "vinegar! who is it calls for such a luxury?" cried several women. it appeared that the girl was zinoviev's servant. she spoke of him as her master, who worked very hard and was surely entitled to something extra. at once a storm of indignation broke loose. "master! is that what we made the revolution for, or was it to do away with masters? zinoviev is no more than we, and he is not entitled to more." these workingwomen were crude, even brutal, but their sense of justice was instinctive. the revolution to them was something fundamentally vital. they saw the inequality at every step and bitterly resented it. i was disturbed. i sought to reassure myself that zinoviev and the other leaders of the communists would not use their power for selfish benefit. it was the shortage of food and the lack of efficient organization which made it impossible to feed all alike, and of course the blockade and not the bolsheviki was responsible for it. the allied interventionists, who were trying to get at russia's throat, were the cause. every communist i met reiterated this thought; even some of the anarchists insisted on it. the little group antagonistic to the soviet government was not convincing. but how to reconcile the explanation given to me with some of the stories i learned every day--stories of systematic terrorism, of relentless persecution, and suppression of other revolutionary elements? another circumstance which perplexed me was that the markets were stacked with meat, fish, soap, potatoes, even shoes, every time that the rations were given out. how did these things get to the markets? everyone spoke about it, but no one seemed to know. one day i was in a watchmaker's shop when a soldier entered. he conversed with the proprietor in yiddish, relating that he had just returned from siberia with a shipment of tea. would the watchmaker take fifty pounds? tea was sold at a premium at the time--no one but the privileged few could permit themselves such a luxury. of course the watchmaker would take the tea. when the soldier left i asked the shopkeeper if he did not think it rather risky to transact such illegal business so openly. i happen to understand yiddish, i told him. did he not fear i would report him? "that's nothing," the man replied nonchalantly, "the tcheka knows all about it--it draws its percentage from the soldier and myself." i began to suspect that the reason for much of the evil was also within russia, not only outside of it. but then, i argued, police officials and detectives graft everywhere. that is the common disease of the breed. in russia, where scarcity of food and three years of starvation must needs turn most people into grafters, theft is inevitable. the bolsheviki are trying to suppress it with an iron hand. how can they be blamed? but try as i might i could not silence my doubts. i groped for some moral support, for a dependable word, for someone to shed light on the disturbing questions. it occurred to me to write to maxim gorki. he might help. i called his attention to his own dismay and disappointment while visiting america. he had come believing in her democracy and liberalism, and found bigotry and lack of hospitality instead. i felt sure gorki would understand the struggle going on within me, though the cause was not the same. would he see me? two days later i received a short note asking me to call. i had admired gorki for many years. he was the living affirmation of my belief that the creative artist cannot be suppressed. gorki, the child of the people, the pariah, had by his genius become one of the world's greatest, one who by his pen and deep human sympathy made the social outcast our kin. for years i toured america interpreting gorki's genius to the american people, elucidating the greatness, beauty, and humanity of the man and his works. now i was to see him and through him get a glimpse into the complex soul of russia. i found the main entrance of his house nailed up, and there seemed to be no way of getting in. i almost gave up in despair when a woman pointed to a dingy staircase. i climbed to the very top and knocked on the first door i saw. it was thrown open, momentarily blinding me with a flood of light and steam from an overheated kitchen. then i was ushered into a large dining room. it was dimly lit, chilly and cheerless in spite of a fire and a large collection of dutch china on the walls. one of the three women i had noticed in the kitchen sat down at the table with me, pretending to read a book but all the while watching me out of the corner of her eye. it was an awkward half hour of waiting. presently gorki arrived. tall, gaunt, and coughing, he looked ill and weary. he took me to his study, semi-dark and of depressing effect. no sooner had we seated ourselves than the door flew open and another young woman, whom i had not observed before, brought him a glass of dark fluid, medicine evidently. then the telephone began to ring; a few minutes later gorki was called out of the room. i realized that i would not be able to talk with him. returning, he must have noticed my disappointment. we agreed to postpone our talk till some less disturbed opportunity presented itself. he escorted me to the door, remarking, "you ought to visit the baltflot [baltic fleet]. the kronstadt sailors are nearly all instinctive anarchists. you would find a field there." i smiled. "instinctive anarchists?" i said, "that means they are unspoiled by preconceived notions, unsophisticated, and receptive. is that what you mean?" "yes, that is what i mean," he replied. the interview with gorki left me depressed. nor was our second meeting more satisfactory on the occasion of my first trip to moscow. by the same train travelled radek, demyan bedny, the popular bolshevik versifier, and zipperovitch, then the president of the petrograd unions. we found ourselves in the same car, the one reserved for bolshevik officials and state dignitaries, comfortable and roomy. on the other hand, the "common" man, the non-communist without influence, had literally to fight his way into the always overcrowded railway carriages, provided he had a _propusk_ to travel--a most difficult thing to procure. i spent the time of the journey discussing russian conditions with zipperovitch, a kindly man of deep convictions, and with demyan bedny, a big coarse-looking man. radek held forth at length on his experiences in germany and german prisons. i learned that gorki was also on the train, and i was glad of another opportunity for a chat with him when he called to see me. the one thing uppermost in my mind at the moment was an article which had appeared in the petrograd _pravda_ a few days before my departure. it treated of morally defective children, the writer urging prison for them. nothing i had heard or seen during my six weeks in russia so outraged me as this brutal and antiquated attitude toward the child. i was eager to know what gorki thought of the matter. of course, he was opposed to prisons for the morally defective, he would advocate reformatories instead. "what do you mean by morally defective?" i asked. "our young are the result of alcoholism rampant during the russian-japanese war, and of syphilis. what except moral defection could result from such a heritage?" he replied. i argued that morality changes with conditions and climate, and that unless one believed in the theory of free will one cannot consider morality a fixed matter. as to children, their sense of responsibility is primitive, and they lack the spirit of social adherence. but gorki insisted that there was a fearful spread of moral defection among children and that such cases should be isolated. i then broached the problem that was troubling me most. what about persecution and terror--were all the horrors inevitable, or was there some fault in bolshevism itself? the bolsheviki were making mistakes, but they were doing the best they knew how, gorki said drily. nothing more could be expected, he thought. i recalled a certain article by gorki, published in his paper, _new life_, which i had read in the missouri penitentiary. it was a scathing arraignment of the bolsheviki. there must have been powerful reasons to change gorki's point of view so completely. perhaps he is right. i must wait. i must study the situation; i must get at the facts. above all, i must see for myself bolshevism at work. we spoke of the drama. on my first visit, by way of introduction, i had shown gorki an announcement card of the dramatic course i had given in america. john galsworthy was among the playwrights i had discussed then. gorki expressed surprise that i considered galsworthy an artist. in his opinion galsworthy could not be compared with bernard shaw. i had to differ. i did not underestimate shaw, but considered galsworthy the greater artist. i detected irritation in gorki, and as his hacking cough continued, i broke off the discussion. he soon left. i remained dejected from the interview. it gave me nothing. when we pulled into the moscow station my chaperon, demyan bedny, had vanished and i was left on the platform with all my traps. radek came to my rescue. he called a porter, took me and my baggage to his waiting automobile and insisted that i come to his apartments in the kremlin. there i was graciously received by his wife and invited to dinner served by their maid. after that radek began the difficult task of getting me quartered in the hotel national, known as the first house of the moscow soviet. with all his influence it required hours to secure a room for me. radek's luxurious apartment, the maidservant, the splendid dinner seemed strange in russia. but the comradely concern of radek and the hospitality of his wife were grateful to me. except at the zorins and the shatovs i had not met with anything like it. i felt that kindliness, sympathy, and solidarity were still alive in russia. chapter iv moscow: first impressions coming from petrograd to moscow is like being suddenly transferred from a desert to active life, so great is the contrast. on reaching the large open square in front of the main moscow station i was amazed at the sight of busy crowds, cabbies, and porters. the same picture presented itself all the way from the station to the kremlin. the streets were alive with men, women, and children. almost everybody carried a bundle, or dragged a loaded sleigh. there was life, motion, and movement, quite different from the stillness that oppressed me in petrograd. i noticed considerable display of the military in the city, and scores of men dressed in leather suits with guns in their belts. "tcheka men, our extraordinary commission," explained radek. i had heard of the tcheka before: petrograd talked of it with dread and hatred. however, the soldiers and tchekists were never much in evidence in the city on the neva. here in moscow they seemed everywhere. their presence reminded me of a remark jack reed had made: "moscow is a military encampment," he had said; "spies everywhere, the bureaucracy most autocratic. i always feel relieved when i get out of moscow. but, then, petrograd is a proletarian city and is permeated with the spirit of the revolution. moscow always was hierarchical. it is much more so now." i found that jack reed was right. moscow was indeed hierarchical. still the life was intense, varied, and interesting. what struck me most forcibly, besides the display of militarism, was the preoccupation of the people. there seemed to be no common interest between them. everyone rushed about as a detached unit in quest of his own, pushing and knocking against everyone else. repeatedly i saw women or children fall from exhaustion without any one stopping to lend assistance. people stared at me when i would bend over the heap on the slippery pavement or gather up the bundles that had fallen into the street. i spoke to friends about what looked to me like a strange lack of fellow-feeling. they explained it as a result partly of the general distrust and suspicion created by the tcheka, and partly due to the absorbing task of getting the day's food. one had neither vitality nor feeling left to think of others. yet there did not seem to be such a scarcity of food as in petrograd, and the people were warmer and better dressed. i spent much time on the streets and in the market places. most of the latter, as also the famous soukharevka, were in full operation. occasionally soldiers would raid the markets; but as a rule they were suffered to continue. they presented the most vital and interesting part of the city's life. here gathered proletarian and aristocrat, communist and bourgeois, peasant and intellectual. here they were bound by the common desire to sell and buy, to trade and bargain. here one could find for sale a rusty iron pot alongside of an exquisite ikon; an old pair of shoes and intricately worked lace; a few yards of cheap calico and a beautiful old persian shawl. the rich of yesterday, hungry and emaciated, denuding themselves of their last glories; the rich of to-day buying--it was indeed an amazing picture in revolutionary russia. who was buying the finery of the past, and where did the purchasing power come from? the buyers were numerous. in moscow one was not so limited as to sources of information as in petrograd; the very streets furnished that source. the russian people even after four years of war and three years of revolution remained unsophisticated. they were suspicious of strangers and reticent at first. but when they learned that one had come from america and did not belong to the governing political party, they gradually lost their reserve. much information i gathered from them and some explanation of the things that perplexed me since my arrival. i talked frequently with the workers and peasants and the women on the markets. the forces which had led up to the russian revolution had remained _terra incognita_ to these simple folk, but the revolution itself had struck deep into their souls. they knew nothing of theories, but they believed that there was to be no more of the hated _barin_ (master) and now the _barin_ was again upon them. "the _barin_ has everything," they would say, "white bread, clothing, even chocolate, while we have nothing." "communism, equality, freedom," they jeered, "lies and deception." i would return to the national bruised and battered, my illusions gradually shattered, my foundations crumbling. but i would not let go. after all, i thought, the common people could not understand the tremendous difficulties confronting the soviet government: the imperialist forces arraigned against russia, the many attacks which drained her of her men who otherwise would be employed in productive labour, the blockade which was relentlessly slaying russia's young and weak. of course, the people could not understand these things, and i must not be misled by their bitterness born of suffering. i must be patient. i must get to the source of the evils confronting me. the national, like the petrograd astoria, was a former hotel but not nearly in as good condition. no rations were given out there except three quarters of a pound of bread every two days. instead there was a common dining room where dinners and suppers were served. the meals consisted of soup and a little meat, sometimes fish or pancakes, and tea. in the evening we usually had _kasha_ and tea. the food was not too plentiful, but one could exist on it were it not so abominably prepared. i saw no reason for this spoiling of provisions. visiting the kitchen i discovered an array of servants controlled by a number of officials, commandants, and inspectors. the kitchen staff were poorly paid; moreover, they were not given the same food served to us. they resented this discrimination and their interest was not in their work. this situation resulted in much graft and waste, criminal in the face of the general scarcity of food. few of the tenants of the national, i learned, took their meals in the common dining room. they prepared or had their meals prepared by servants in a separate kitchen set aside for that purpose. there, as in the astoria, i found the same scramble for a place on the stove, the same bickering and quarrelling, the same greedy, envious watching of each other. was that communism in action, i wondered. i heard the usual explanation: yudenitch, denikin, kolchak, the blockade--but the stereotyped phrases no longer satisfied me. before i left petrograd jack reed said to me: "when you reach moscow, look up angelica balabanova. she will receive you gladly and will put you up should you be unable to find a room." i had heard of balabanova before, knew of her work, and was naturally anxious to meet her. a few days after reaching moscow i called her up. would she see me? yes, at once, though she was not feeling well. i found balabanova in a small, cheerless room, lying huddled up on the sofa. she was not prepossessing but for her eyes, large and luminous, radiating sympathy and kindness. she received me most graciously, like an old friend, and immediately ordered the inevitable samovar. over our tea we talked of america, the labour movement there, our deportation, and finally about russia. i put to her the questions i had asked many communists regarding the contrasts and discrepancies which confronted me at every step. she surprised me by not giving the usual excuses; she was the first who did not repeat the old refrain. she did refer to the scarcity of food, fuel, and clothing which was responsible for much of the graft and corruption; but on the whole she thought life itself mean and limited. "a rock on which the highest hopes are shattered. life thwarts the best intentions and breaks the finest spirits," she said. rather an unusual view for a marxian, a communist, and one in the thick of the battle. i knew she was then secretary of the third international. here was a personality, one who was not a mere echo, one who felt deeply the complexity of the russian situation. i went away profoundly impressed, and attracted by her sad, luminous eyes. i soon discovered that balabanova--or balabanoff, as she preferred to be called--was at the beck and call of everybody. though poor in health and engaged in many functions, she yet found time to minister to the needs of her legion callers. often she went without necessaries herself, giving away her own rations, always busy trying to secure medicine or some little delicacy for the sick and suffering. her special concern were the stranded italians of whom there were quite a number in petrograd and moscow. balabanova had lived and worked in italy for many years until she almost became italian herself. she felt deeply with them, who were as far away from their native soil as from events in russia. she was their friend, their advisor, their main support in a world of strife and struggle. not only the italians but almost everyone else was the concern of this remarkable little woman: no one needed a communist membership card to angelica's heart. no wonder some of her comrades considered her a "sentimentalist who wasted her precious time in philanthropy." many verbal battles i had on this score with the type of communist who had become callous and hard, altogether barren of the qualities which characterized the russian idealist of the past. similar criticism as of balabanova i heard expressed of another leading communist, lunacharsky. already in petrograd i was told sneeringly, "lunacharsky is a scatterbrain who wastes millions on foolish ventures." but i was eager to meet the man who was the commissar of one of the important departments in russia, that of education. presently an opportunity presented itself. the kremlin, the old citadel of tsardom, i found heavily guarded and inaccessible to the "common" man. but i had come by appointment and in the company of a man who had an admission card, and therefore passed the guard without trouble. we soon reached the lunacharsky apartments, situated in an old quaint building within the walls. though the reception room was crowded with people waiting to be admitted, lunacharsky called me in as soon as i was announced. his greeting was very cordial. did i "intend to remain a free bird" was one of his first questions, or would i be willing to join him in his work? i was rather surprised. why should one have to give up his freedom, especially in educational work? were not initiative and freedom essential? however, i had come to learn from lunacharsky about the revolutionary system of education in russia, of which we had heard so much in america. i was especially interested in the care the children were receiving. the moscow _pravda_, like the petrograd newspapers, had been agitated by a controversy about the treatment of the morally defective. i expressed surprise at such an attitude in soviet russia. "of course, it is all barbarous and antiquated," lunacharsky said, "and i am fighting it tooth and nail. the sponsors of prisons for children are old criminal jurists, still imbued with tsarist methods. i have organized a commission of physicians, pedagogues, and psychologists to deal with this question. of course, those children must not be punished." i felt tremendously relieved. here at last was a man who had gotten away from the cruel old methods of punishment. i told him of the splendid work done in capitalist america by judge lindsay and of some of the experimental schools for backward children. lunacharsky was much interested. "yes, that is just what we want here, the american system of education," he exclaimed. "you surely do not mean the american public school system?" i asked. "you know of the insurgent movement in america against our public school method of education, the work done by professor dewey and others?" lunacharsky had heard little about it. russia had been so long cut off from the western world and there was great lack of books on modern education. he was eager to learn of the new ideas and methods. i sensed in lunacharsky a personality full of faith and devotion to the revolution, one who was carrying on the great work of education in a physically and spiritually difficult environment. he suggested the calling of a conference of teachers if i would talk to them about the new tendencies in education in america, to which i readily consented. schools and other institutions in his charge were to be visited later. i left lunacharsky filled with new hope. i would join him in his work, i thought. what greater service could one render the russian people? during my visit to moscow i saw lunacharsky several times. he was always the same kindly gracious man, but i soon began to notice that he was being handicapped in his work by forces within his own party: most of his good intentions and decisions never saw the light. evidently lunacharsky was caught in the same machine that apparently held everything in its iron grip. what was that machine? who directed its movements? although the control of visitors at the national was very strict, no one being able to go in or out without a special _propusk_ [permit], men and women of different political factions managed to call on me: anarchists, left social revolutionists, coöperators, and people i had known in america and who had returned to russia to play their part in the revolution. they had come with deep faith and high hope, but i found almost all of them discouraged, some even embittered. though widely differing in their political views, nearly all of my callers related an identical story, the story of the high tide of the revolution, of the wonderful spirit that led the people forward, of the possibilities of the masses, the rôle of the bolsheviki as the spokesmen of the most extreme revolutionary slogans and their betrayal of the revolution after they had secured power. all spoke of the brest litovsk peace as the beginning of the downward march. the left social revolutionists especially, men of culture and earnestness, who had suffered much under the tsar and now saw their hopes and aspirations thwarted, were most emphatic in their condemnation. they supported their statements by evidence of the havoc wrought by the methods of forcible requisition and the punitive expeditions to the villages, of the abyss created between town and country, the hatred engendered between peasant and worker. they told of the persecution of their comrades, the shooting of innocent men and women, the criminal inefficiency, waste, and destruction. how, then, could the bolsheviki maintain themselves in power? after all, they were only a small minority, about five hundred thousand members as an exaggerated estimate. the russian masses, i was told, were exhausted by hunger and cowed by terrorism. moreover, they had lost faith in all parties and ideas. nevertheless, there were frequent peasant uprisings in various parts of russia, but these were ruthlessly quelled. there were also constant strikes in moscow, petrograd, and other industrial centres, but the censorship was so rigid little ever became known to the masses at large. i sounded my visitors on intervention. "we want none of outside interference," was the uniform sentiment. they held that it merely strengthened the hands of the bolsheviki. they felt that they could not publicly even speak out against them so long as russia was being attacked, much less fight their régime. "have not their tactics and methods been imposed on the bolsheviki by intervention and blockade?" i argued. "only partly so," was the reply. "most of their methods spring from their lack of understanding of the character and the needs of the russian people and the mad obsession of dictatorship, which is not even the dictatorship of the proletariat but the dictatorship of a small group _over_ the proletariat." when i broached the subject of the people's soviets and the elections my visitors smiled. "elections! there are no such things in russia, unless you call threats and terrorism elections. it is by these alone that the bolsheviki secure a majority. a few mensheviki, social revolutionists, or anarchists are permitted to slip into the soviets, but they have not the shadow of a chance to be heard." the picture painted looked black and dismal. still i clung to my faith. chapter v meeting people at a conference of the moscow anarchists in march i first learned of the part some anarchists had played in the russian revolution. in the july uprising of the kronstadt sailors were led by the anarchist yarchuck; the constituent assembly was dispersed by zhelezniakov; the anarchists had participated on every front and helped to drive back the allied attacks. it was the consensus of opinion that the anarchists were always among the first to face fire, as they were also the most active in the reconstructive work. one of the biggest factories near moscow, which did not stop work during the entire period of the revolution, was managed by an anarchist. anarchists were doing important work in the foreign office and in all other departments. i learned that the anarchists had virtually helped the bolsheviki into power. five months later, in april, , machine guns were used to destroy the moscow anarchist club and to suppress their press. that was before mirbach arrived in moscow. the field had to be "cleared of disturbing elements," and the anarchists were the first to suffer. since then the persecution of the anarchists has never ceased. the moscow anarchist conference was critical not only toward the existing régime, but toward its own comrades as well. it spoke frankly of the negative sides of the movement, and of its lack of unity and coöperation during the revolutionary period. later i was to learn more of the internal dissensions in the anarchist movement. before closing, the conference decided to call on the soviet government to release the imprisoned anarchists and to legalize anarchist educational work. the conference asked alexander berkman and myself to sign the resolution to that effect. it was a shock to me that anarchists should ask any government to legalize their efforts, but i still believed the soviet government to be at least to some extent expressive of the revolution. i signed the resolution, and as i was to see lenin in a few days i promised to take the matter up with him. the interview with lenin was arranged by balabanova. "you must see ilitch, talk to him about the things that are disturbing you and the work you would like to do," she had said. but some time passed before the opportunity came. at last one day balabanova called up to ask whether i could go at once. lenin had sent his car and we were quickly driven over to the kremlin, passed without question by the guards, and at last ushered into the workroom of the all-powerful president of the people's commissars. when we entered lenin held a copy of the brochure _trial and speeches_[ ] in his hands. i had given my only copy to balabanova, who had evidently sent the booklet on ahead of us to lenin. one of his first questions was, "when could the social revolution be expected in america?" i had been asked the question repeatedly before, but i was astounded to hear it from lenin. it seemed incredible that a man of his information should know so little about conditions in america. my russian at this time was halting, but lenin declared that though he had lived in europe for many years he had not learned to speak foreign languages: the conversation would therefore have to be carried on in russian. at once he launched into a eulogy of our speeches in court. "what a splendid opportunity for propaganda," he said; "it is worth going to prison, if the courts can so successfully be turned into a forum." i felt his steady cold gaze upon me, penetrating my very being, as if he were reflecting upon the use i might be put to. presently he asked what i would want to do. i told him i would like to repay america what it had done for russia. i spoke of the society of the friends of russian freedom, organized thirty years ago by george kennan and later reorganized by alice stone blackwell and other liberal americans. i briefly sketched the splendid work they had done to arouse interest in the struggle for russian freedom, and the great moral and financial aid the society had given through all those years. to organize a russian society for american freedom was my plan. lenin appeared enthusiastic. "that is a great idea, and you shall have all the help you want. but, of course, it will be under the auspices of the third international. prepare your plan in writing and send it to me." i broached the subject of the anarchists in russia. i showed him a letter i had received from martens, the soviet representative in america, shortly before my deportation. martens asserted that the anarchists in russia enjoyed full freedom of speech and press. since my arrival i found scores of anarchists in prison and their press suppressed. i explained that i could not think of working with the soviet government so long as my comrades were in prison for opinion's sake. i also told him of the resolutions of the moscow anarchist conference. he listened patiently and promised to bring the matter to the attention of his party. "but as to free speech," he remarked, "that is, of course, a bourgeois notion. there can be no free speech in a revolutionary period. we have the peasantry against us because we can give them nothing in return for their bread. we will have them on our side when we have something to exchange. then you can have all the free speech you want--but not now. recently we needed peasants to cart some wood into the city. they demanded salt. we thought we had no salt, but then we discovered seventy poods in moscow in one of our warehouses. at once the peasants were willing to cart the wood. your comrades must wait until we can meet the needs of the peasants. meanwhile, they should work with us. look at william shatov, for instance, who has helped save petrograd from yudenitch. he works with us and we appreciate his services. shatov was among the first to receive the order of the red banner." free speech, free press, the spiritual achievements of centuries, what were they to this man? a puritan, he was sure his scheme alone could redeem russia. those who served his plans were right, the others could not be tolerated. a shrewd asiatic, this lenin. he knows how to play on the weak sides of men by flattery, rewards, medals. i left convinced that his approach to people was purely utilitarian, for the use he could get out of them for his scheme. and his scheme--was it the revolution? i prepared the plan for the society of the russian friends of american freedom and elaborated the details of the work i had in mind, but refused to place myself under the protecting wing of the third international. i explained to lenin that the american people had little faith in politics, and would certainly consider it an imposition to be directed and guided by a political machine from moscow. i could not consistently align myself with the third international. some time later i saw tchicherin. i believe it was a. m. when our interview took place. he also asked about the possibilities of a revolution in america, and seemed to doubt my judgment when i informed him that there was no hope of it in the near future. we spoke of the i. w. w., which had evidently been misrepresented to him. i assured tchicherin that while i am not an i. w. w. i must state that they represented the only conscious and effective revolutionary proletarian organization in the united states, and were sure to play an important rôle in the future labour history of the country. next to balabanova, tchicherin impressed me as the most simple and unassuming of the leading communists in moscow. but all were equally naïve in their estimate of the world outside of russia. was their judgment so faulty because they had been cut off from europe and america so long? or was their great need of european help father to their wish? at any rate, they all clung to the idea of approaching revolutions in the western countries, forgetful that revolutions are not made to order, and apparently unconscious that their own revolution had been twisted out of shape and semblance and was gradually being done to death. the editor of the london _daily herald_, accompanied by one of his reporters, had preceded me to moscow. they wanted to visit kropotkin, and they had been given a special car. together with alexander berkman and a. shapiro, i was able to join mr. lansbury. the kropotkin cottage stood back in the garden away from the street. only a faint ray from a kerosene lamp lit up the path to the house. kropotkin received us with his characteristic graciousness, evidently glad at our visit. but i was shocked at his altered appearance. the last time i had seen him was in , in paris, which i visited after the anarchist congress in amsterdam. kropotkin, barred from france for many years, had just been given the right to return. he was then sixty-five years of age, but still so full of life and energy that he seemed much younger. now he looked old and worn. i was eager to get some light from kropotkin on the problems that were troubling me, particularly on the relation of the bolsheviki to the revolution. what was his opinion? why had he been silent so long? i took no notes and therefore i can give only the gist of what kropotkin said. he stated that the revolution had carried the people to great spiritual heights and had paved the way for profound social changes. if the people had been permitted to apply their released energies, russia would not be in her present condition of ruin. the bolsheviki, who had been carried to the top by the revolutionary wave, first caught the popular ear by extreme revolutionary slogans, thereby gaining the confidence of the masses and the support of militant revolutionists. he continued to narrate that early in the october period the bolsheviki began to subordinate the interests of the revolution to the establishment of their dictatorship, which coerced and paralysed every social activity. he stated that the coöperatives were the main medium that could have bridged the interests of the peasants and the workers. the coöperatives were among the first to be crushed. he spoke with much feeling of the oppression, the persecution, the hounding of every shade of opinion, and cited numerous instances of the misery and distress of the people. he emphasized that the bolsheviki had discredited socialism and communism in the eyes of the russian people. "why haven't you raised your voice against these evils, against this machine that is sapping the life blood of the revolution?" i asked. he gave two reasons. as long as russia was being attacked by the combined imperialists, and russian women and children were dying from the effects of the blockade, he could not join the shrieking chorus of the ex-revolutionists in the cry of "crucify!" he preferred silence. secondly, there was no medium of expression in russia itself. to protest to the government was useless. its concern was to maintain itself in power. it could not stop at such "trifles" as human rights or human lives. then he added: "we have always pointed out the effects of marxism in action. why be surprised now?" i asked kropotkin whether he was noting down his impressions and observations. surely he must see the importance of such a record to his comrades and to the workers; in fact, to the whole world. "no," he said; "it is impossible to write when one is in the midst of great human suffering, when every hour brings new tragedies. then there may be a raid at any moment. the tcheka comes swooping down in the night, ransacks every corner, turns everything inside out, and marches off with every scrap of paper. under such constant stress it is impossible to keep records. but besides these considerations there is my book on ethics. i can only work a few hours a day, and i must concentrate on that to the exclusion of everything else." after a tender embrace which peter never failed to give those he loved, we returned to our car. my heart was heavy, my spirit confused and troubled by what i had heard. i was also distressed by the poor state of health of our comrade: i feared he could not survive till spring. the thought that peter kropotkin might go to his grave and that the world might never know what he thought of the russian revolution was appalling. footnote: [ ] _trial and speeches of alexander berkman and emma goldman before the federal court of new york, june-july, ._ mother earth publishing co., new york. chapter vi preparing for american deportees events in moscow, quickly following each other, were full of interest. i wanted to remain in that vital city, but as i had left all my effects in petrograd i decided to return there and then come back to moscow to join lunacharsky in his work. a few days before my departure a young woman, an anarchist, came to visit me. she was from the petrograd museum of the revolution and she called to inquire whether i would take charge of the museum branch work in moscow. she explained that the original idea of the museum was due to the famous old revolutionist vera nikolaievna figner, and that it had recently been organized by non-partisan elements. the majority of the men and women who worked in the museum were not communists, she said; but they were devoted to the revolution and anxious to create something which could in the future serve as a source of information and inspiration to earnest students of the great russian revolution. when my caller was informed that i was about to return to petrograd, she invited me to visit the museum and to become acquainted with its work. upon my arrival in petrograd i found unexpected work awaiting me. zorin informed me that he had been notified by tchicherin that a thousand russians had been deported from america and were on their way to russia. they were to be met at the border and quarters were to be immediately prepared for them in petrograd. zorin asked me to join the commission about to be organized for that purpose. the plan of such a commission for american deportees had been broached to zorin soon after our arrival in russia. at that time zorin directed us to talk the matter over with tchicherin, which we did. but three months passed without anything having been done about it. meanwhile, our comrades of the _buford_ were still walking from department to department, trying to be placed where they might do some good. they were a sorry lot, those men who had come to russia with such high hopes, eager to render service to the revolutionary people. most of them were skilled workers, mechanics--men russia needed badly; but the cumbersome bolshevik machine and general inefficiency made it a very complex matter to put them to work. some had tried independently to secure jobs, but they could accomplish very little. moreover, those who found employment were soon made to feel that the russian workers resented the eagerness and intensity of their brothers from america. "wait till you have starved as long as we," they would say, "wait till you have tasted the blessings of commissarship, and we will see if you are still so eager." in every way the deportees were discouraged and their enthusiasm dampened. to avoid this unnecessary waste of energy and suffering the commission was at last organized in petrograd. it consisted of ravitch, the then minister of internal affairs for the northern district; her secretary, kaplun; two members of the bureau of war prisoners; alexander berkman, and myself. the new deportees were due in two weeks, and much work was to be done to prepare for their reception. it was unfortunate that no active participation could be expected from ravitch because her time was too much occupied. besides holding the post of minister of the interior she was chief of the petrograd militia, and she also represented the moscow foreign office in petrograd. her regular working hours were from a. m. to a. m. kaplun, a very able administrator, had charge of the entire internal work of the department and could therefore give us very little of his time. there remained only four persons to accomplish within a short time the big task of preparing living quarters for a thousand deportees in starved and ruined russia. moreover, alexander berkman, heading the reception committee, had to leave for the latvian border to meet the exiles. it was an almost impossible task for one person, but i was very anxious to save the second group of deportees the bitter experiences and the disappointments of my fellow companions of the _buford_. i could undertake the work only by making the condition that i be given the right of entry to the various government departments, for i had learned by that time how paralysing was the effect of the bureaucratic red tape which delayed and often frustrated the most earnest and energetic efforts. kaplun consented. "call on me at any time for anything you may require," he said; "i will give orders that you be admitted everywhere and supplied with everything you need. if that should not help, call on the tcheka," he added. i had never called upon the police before, i informed him; why should i do so in revolutionary russia? "in bourgeois countries that is a different matter," explained kaplun; "with us the tcheka defends the revolution and fights sabotage." i started on my work determined to do without the tcheka. surely there must be other methods, i thought. then began a chase over petrograd. materials were very scarce and it was most difficult to procure them owing to the unbelievably centralized bolshevik methods. thus to get a pound of nails one had to file applications in about ten or fifteen bureaus; to secure some bed linen or ordinary dishes one wasted days. everywhere in the offices crowds of government employees stood about smoking cigarettes, awaiting the hour when the tedious task of the day would be over. my co-workers of the war prisoners' bureau fumed at the irritating and unnecessary delays, but to no purpose. they threatened with the tcheka, with the concentration camp, even with _raztrel_ (shooting). the latter was the most favourite argument. whenever any difficulty arose one immediately heard _raztreliat_--to be shot. but the expression, so terrible in its significance, was gradually losing its effect upon the people: man gets used to everything. i decided to try other methods. i would talk to the employees in the departments about the vital interest the conscious american workers felt in the great russian revolution, and of their faith and hope in the russian proletariat. the people would become interested immediately, but the questions they would ask were as strange as they were pitiful: "have the people enough to eat in america? how soon will the revolution be there? why did you come to starving russia?" they were eager for information and news, these mentally and physically starved people, cut off by the barbarous blockade from all touch with the western world. things american were something wonderful to them. a piece of chocolate or a cracker were unheard-of dainties--they proved the key to everybody's heart. within two weeks i succeeded in procuring most of the things needed for the expected deportees, including furniture, linen, and dishes. a miracle, everybody said. however, the renovation of the houses that were to serve as living quarters for the exiles was not accomplished so easily. i inspected what, as i was told, had once been first-class hotels. i found them located in the former prostitute district; cheap dives they were, until the bolsheviki closed all brothels. they were germ-eaten, ill-smelling, and filthy. it was no small problem to turn those dark holes into a fit habitation within two weeks. a coat of paint was a luxury not to be thought of. there was nothing else to do but to strip the rooms of furniture and draperies, and have them thoroughly cleaned and disinfected. one morning a group of forlorn-looking creatures, in charge of two militiamen, were brought to my temporary office. they came to work, i was informed. the group consisted of a one-armed old man, a consumptive woman, and eight boys and girls, mere children, pale, starved, and in rags. "where do these unfortunates come from?" i inquired. "they are speculators," one of the militiamen replied; "we rounded them up on the market." the prisoners began to weep. they were no speculators, they protested; they were starving, they had received no bread in two days. they were compelled to go out to the market to sell matches or thread to secure a little bread. in the midst of this scene the old man fainted from exhaustion, demonstrating better than words that he had speculated only in hunger. i had seen such "speculators" before, driven in groups through the streets of moscow and petrograd by convoys with loaded guns pointed at the backs of the prisoners. i could not think of having the work done by these starved creatures. but the militiamen insisted that they would not let them go; they had orders to make them work. i called up kaplun and informed him that i considered it out of the question to have quarters for american deportees prepared by russian convicts whose only crime was hunger. thereupon kaplun ordered the group set free and consented that i give them of the bread sent for the workers' rations. but a valuable day was lost. the next morning a group of boys and girls came singing along the nevski prospekt. they were _kursanti_ from the tauride palace who were sent to my office to work. on my first visit to the palace i had been shown the quarters of the _kursanti_, the students of the bolshevik academy. they were mostly village boys and girls housed, fed, clothed, and educated by the government, later to be placed in responsible positions in the soviet régime. at the time i was impressed by the institutions, but by april i had looked somewhat beneath the surface. i recalled what a young woman, a communist, had told me in moscow about these students. "they are the special caste now being reared in russia," she had said. "like the church which maintains and educates its religious priesthood, our government trains a military and civic priesthood. they are a favoured lot." i had more than one occasion to convince myself of the truth of it. the _kursanti_ were being given every advantage and many special privileges. they knew their importance and they behaved accordingly. their first demand when they came to me was for the extra rations of bread they had been promised. this demand satisfied, they stood about and seemed to have no idea of work. it was evident that whatever else the _kursanti_ might be taught, it was not to labour. but, then, few people in russia know how to work. the situation looked hopeless. only ten days remained till the arrival of the deportees, and the "hotels" assigned for their use were still in as uninhabitable a condition as before. it was no use to threaten with the tcheka, as my co-workers did. i appealed to the boys and girls in the spirit of the american deportees who were about to arrive in russia full of enthusiasm for the revolution and eager to join in the great work of reconstruction. the _kursanti_ were the pampered charges of the government, but they were not long from the villages, and they had had no time to become corrupt. my appeal was effective. they took up the work with a will, and at the end of ten days the three famous hotels were ready as far as willingness to work and hot water without soap could make them. we were very proud of our achievement and we eagerly awaited the arrival of the deportees. at last they came, but to our great surprise they proved to be no deportees at all. they were russian war prisoners from germany. the misunderstanding was due to the blunder of some official in tchicherin's office who misread the radio information about the party due at the border. the prepared hotels were locked and sealed; they were not to be used for the returned war prisoners because "they were prepared for american deportees who still might come." all the efforts and labour had been in vain. chapter vii rest homes for workers since my return from moscow i noticed a change in zorin's attitude: he was reserved, distant, and not as friendly as when we first met. i ascribed it to the fact that he was overworked and fatigued, and not wishing to waste his valuable time i ceased visiting the zorins as frequently as before. one day, however, he called up to ask if alexander berkman and myself would join him in certain work he was planning, and which was to be done in hurry-up american style, as he put it. on calling to see him we found him rather excited--an unusual thing for zorin who was generally quiet and reserved. he was full of a new scheme to build "rest homes" for workers. he explained that on kameniy ostrov were the magnificent mansions of the stolypins, the polovtsovs, and others of the aristocracy and bourgeoisie, and that he was planning to turn them into recreation centres for workers. would we join in the work? of course, we consented eagerly, and the next morning we went over to inspect the island. it was indeed an ideal spot, dotted with magnificent mansions, some of them veritable museums, containing rare gems of painting, tapestry, and furniture. the man in charge of the buildings called our attention to the art treasures, protesting that they would be injured or entirely destroyed if put to the planned use. but zorin was set on his scheme. "recreation homes for workers are more important than art," he said. we returned to the astoria determined to devote ourselves to the work and to go at it intensively, as the houses were to be ready for the first of may. we prepared detailed plans for dining rooms, sleeping chambers, reading rooms, theatre and lecture halls, and recreation places for the workers. as the first and most necessary step we proposed the organization of a dining room to feed the workers who were to be employed in preparing the place for their comrades. i had learned from my previous experience with the hotels that much valuable time was lost because of the failure to provide for those actually employed on such work. zorin consented and promised that we were to take charge within a few days. but a week passed and nothing further was heard about what was to be a rush job. some time later zorin called up to ask us to accompany him to the island. on our arrival there we found half-a-dozen commissars already in charge, with scores of people idling about. zorin reassured us that matters would arrange themselves and that we should have an opportunity to organize the work as planned. however, we soon realized that the newly fledged officialdom was as hard to cope with as the old bureaucracy. every commissar had his favourites whom he managed to list as employed on the job, thereby entitling them to bread rations and a meal. thus almost before any actual workers appeared on the scene, eighty alleged "technicians" were already in possession of dinner tickets and bread cards. the men actually mobilized for the work received hardly anything. the result was general sabotage. most of the men sent over to prepare the rest homes for the workers came from concentration camps: they were convicts and military deserters. i had often watched them at work, and in justice to them it must be said that they did not overexert themselves. "why should we," they would say; "we are fed on sovietski soup; dirty dishwater it is, and we receive only what is left over from the idlers who order us about. and who will rest in these homes? not we or our brothers in the factories. only those who belong to the party or who have a pull will enjoy this place. besides, the spring is near; we are needed at home on the farm. why are we kept here?" indeed, they did not exert themselves, those stalwart sons of russia's soil. there was no incentive: they had no point of contact with the life about them, and there was no one who could translate to them the meaning of work in revolutionary russia. they were dazed by war, revolution, and hunger--nothing could rouse them out of their stupor. many of the buildings on kameniy ostrov had been taken up for boarding schools and homes for defectives; some were occupied by old professors, teachers, and other intellectuals. since the revolution these people lived there unmolested, but now orders came to vacate, to make room for the rest homes. as almost no provision had been made to supply the dispossessed ones with other quarters, they were practically forced into the streets. those friendly with zinoviev, gorki, or other influential communists took their troubles to them, but persons lacking "pull" found no redress. the scenes of misery which i was compelled to witness daily exhausted my energies. it was all unnecessarily cruel, impractical, without any bearing on the revolution. added to this was the chaos and confusion which prevailed. the bureaucratic officials seemed to take particular delight in countermanding each other's orders. houses already in the process of renovation, and on which much work and material were spent, would suddenly be left unfinished and some other work begun. mansions filled with art treasures were turned into night lodgings, and dirty iron cots put among antique furniture and oil paintings--an incongruous, stupid waste of time and energy. zorin would frequently hold consultations by the hour with the staff of artists and engineers making plans for theatres, lecture halls, and amusement places, while the commissars sabotaged the work. i stood the painful and ridiculous situation for two weeks, then gave up the matter in despair. early in may the workers' rest homes on kameniy ostrov were opened with much pomp, music, and speeches. glowing accounts were sent broadcast of the marvellous things done for the workers in russia. in reality, it was coney island transferred to the environs of petrograd, a gaudy showplace for credulous visitors. from that time on zorin's demeanour to me changed. he became cold, even antagonistic. no doubt he began to sense the struggle which was going on within me, and the break which was bound to come. i did, however, see much of lisa zorin, who had just become a mother. i nursed her and her baby, glad of the opportunity thus to express my gratitude for the warm friendship the zorins had shown me during my first months in russia. i appreciated their sterling honesty and devotion. both were so favourably placed politically that they could be supplied with everything they wanted, yet lisa zorin lacked the simplest garments for her baby. "thousands of russian working women have no more, and why should i?" lisa would say. when she was so weak that she could not nurse her baby, zorin could not be induced to ask for special rations. i had to conspire against them by buying eggs and butter on the market to save the lives of mother and child. but their fine quality of character made my inner struggle the more difficult. reason urged me to look the social facts in the face. my personal attachment to the communists i had learned to know and esteem refused to accept the facts. never mind the evils--i would say to myself--as long as there are such as the zorins and the balabanovas, there must be something vital in the ideas they represent. i held on tenaciously to the phantom i had myself created. chapter viii the first of may in petrograd in the first of may was for the first time celebrated in america as labour's international holiday. may day became to me a great, inspiring event. to witness the celebration of the first of may in a free country--it was something to dream of, to long for, but perhaps never to be realized. and now, in , the dream of many years was about to become real in revolutionary russia. i could hardly await the morning of may first. it was a glorious day, with the warm sun melting away the last crust of the hard winter. early in the morning strains of music greeted me: groups of workers and soldiers were marching through the streets, singing revolutionary songs. the city was gaily decorated: the uritski square, facing the winter palace, was a mass of red, the streets near by a veritable riot of colour. great crowds were about, all wending their way to the field of mars where the heroes of the revolution were buried. though i had an admission card to the reviewing stand i preferred to remain among the people, to feel myself a part of the great hosts that had brought about the world event. this was their day--the day of their making. yet--they seemed peculiarly quiet, oppressively silent. there was no joy in their singing, no mirth in their laughter. mechanically they marched, automatically they responded to the claqueurs on the reviewing stand shouting "hurrah" as the columns passed. in the evening a pageant was to take place. long before the appointed hour the uritski square down to the palace and to the banks of the neva was crowded with people gathered to witness the open-air performance symbolizing the triumph of the people. the play consisted of three parts, the first portraying the conditions which led up to the war and the rôle of the german socialists in it; the second reproduced the february revolution, with kerensky in power; the last--the october revolution. it was a play beautifully set and powerfully acted, a play vivid, real, fascinating. it was given on the steps of the former stock exchange, facing the square. on the highest step sat kings and queens with their courtiers, attended by soldiery in gay uniforms. the scene represents a gala court affair: the announcement is made that a monument is to be built in honour of world capitalism. there is much rejoicing, and a wild orgy of music and dance ensues. then from the depths there emerge the enslaved and toiling masses, their chains ringing mournfully to the music above. they are responding to the command to build the monument for their masters: some are seen carrying hammers and anvils; others stagger under the weight of huge blocks of stone and loads of brick. the workers are toiling in their world of misery and darkness, lashed to greater effort by the whip of the slave drivers, while above there is light and joy, and the masters are feasting. the completion of the monument is signalled by large yellow disks hoisted on high amidst the rejoicing of the world on top. at this moment a little red flag is seen waving below, and a small figure is haranguing the people. angry fists are raised and then flag and figure disappear, only to reappear again in different parts of the underworld. again the red flag waves, now here, now there. the people slowly gain confidence and presently become threatening. indignation and anger grow--the kings and queens become alarmed. they fly to the safety of the citadels, and the army prepares to defend the stronghold of capitalism. it is august, . the rulers are again feasting, and the workers are slaving. the members of the second international attend the confab of the mighty. they remain deaf to the plea of the workers to save them from the horrors of war. then the strains of "god save the king" announce the arrival of the english army. it is followed by russian soldiers with machine guns and artillery, and a procession of nurses and cripples, the tribute to the moloch of war. the next act pictures the february revolution. red flags appear everywhere, armed motor cars dash about. the people storm the winter palace and haul down the emblem of tsardom. the kerensky government assumes control, and the people are driven back to war. then comes the marvellous scene of the october revolution, with soldiers and sailors galloping along the open space before the white marble building. they dash up the steps into the palace, there is a brief struggle, and the victors are hailed by the masses in wild jubilation. the "internationale" floats upon the air; it mounts higher and higher into exultant peals of joy. russia is free--the workers, sailors, and soldiers usher in the new era, the beginning of the world commune! tremendously stirring was the picture. but the vast mass remained silent. only a faint applause was heard from the great throng. i was dumbfounded. how explain this astonishing lack of response? when i spoke to lisa zorin about it she said that the people had actually lived through the october revolution, and that the performance necessarily fell flat by comparison with the reality of . but my little communist neighbour gave a different version. "the people had suffered so many disappointments since october, ," she said, "that the revolution has lost all meaning to them. the play had the effect of making their disappointment more poignant." chapter ix industrial militarization the ninth congress of the all-russian communist party, held in march, , was characterized by a number of measures which meant a complete turn to the right. foremost among them was the militarization of labour and the establishment of one-man management of industry, as against the collegiate shop system. obligatory labour had long been a law upon the statutes of the socialist republic, but it was carried out, as trotsky said, "only in a small private way." now the law was to be made effective in earnest. russia was to have a militarized industrial army to fight economic disorganization, even as the red army had conquered on the various fronts. such an army could be whipped into line only by rigid discipline, it was claimed. the factory collegiate system had to make place for military industrial management. the measure was bitterly fought at the congress by the communist minority, but party discipline prevailed. however, the excitement did not abate: discussion of the subject continued long after the congress adjourned. many of the younger communists agreed that the measure indicated a step to the right, but they defended the decision of their party. "the collegiate system has proven a failure," they said. "the workers will not work voluntarily, and our industry must be revived if we are to survive another year." jack reed also held this view. he had just returned after a futile attempt to reach america through latvia, and for days we argued about the new policy. jack insisted it was unavoidable so long as russia was being attacked and blockaded. "we have been compelled to mobilize an army to fight our external enemies why not an army to fight our worst internal enemy, hunger? we can do it only by putting our industry on its feet." i pointed out the danger of the military method and questioned whether the workers could be expected to become efficient or to work intensively under compulsion. still, jack thought mobilization of labour unavoidable. "it must be tried, anyhow," he said. petrograd at the time was filled with rumours of strikes. the story made the rounds that zinoviev and his staff, while visiting the factories to explain the new policies, were driven by the workers from the premises. to learn about the situation at first hand i decided to visit the factories. already during my first months in russia i had asked zorin for permission to see them. lisa zorin had requested me to address some labour meetings, but i declined because i felt that it would be presumptuous on my part to undertake to teach those who had made the revolution. besides, i was not quite at home with the russian language then. but when i asked zorin to let me visit some factories, he was evasive. after i had become acquainted with ravitch i approached her on the subject, and she willingly consented. the first works to be visited were the putilov, the largest and most important engine and car manufacturing establishment. forty thousand workers had been employed there before the war. now i was informed that only , were at work. i had heard much of the putilovtsi: they had played a heroic part in the revolutionary days and in the defence of petrograd against yudenitch. at the putilov office we were cordially received, shown about the various departments, and then turned over to a guide. there were four of us in the party, of whom only two could speak russian. i lagged behind to question a group working at a bench. at first i was met with the usual suspicion, which i overcame by telling the men that i was bringing the greetings of their brothers in america. "and the revolution there?" i was immediately asked. it seemed to have become a national obsession, this idea of a near revolution in europe and america. everybody in russia clung to that hope. it was hard to rob those misinformed people of their naïve faith. "the american revolution is not yet," i told them, "but the russian revolution has found an echo among the proletariat in america." i inquired about their work, their lives, and their attitude toward the new decrees. "as if we had not been driven enough before," complained one of the men. "now we are to work under the military _nagaika_ [whip]. of course, we will have to be in the shop or they will punish us as industrial deserters. but how can they get more work out of us? we are suffering hunger and cold. we have no strength to give more." i suggested that the government was probably compelled to introduce such methods, and that if russian industry were not revived the condition of the workers would grow even worse. besides, the putilov men were receiving the preferred _payok_. "we understand the great misfortune that has befallen russia," one of the workers replied, "but we cannot squeeze more out of ourselves. even the two pounds of bread we are getting is not enough. look at the bread," he said, holding up a black crust; "can we live on that? and our children? if not for our people in the country or some trading on the market we would die altogether. now comes the new measure which is tearing us away from our people, sending us to the other end of russia while our brothers from there are going to be dragged here, away from their soil. it's a crazy measure and it won't work." "but what can the government do in the face of the food shortage?" i asked. "food shortage!" the man exclaimed; "look at the markets. did you see any shortage of food there? speculation and the new bourgeoisie, that's what's the matter. the one-man management is our new slave driver. first the bourgeoisie sabotaged us, and now they are again in control. but just let them try to boss us! they'll find out. just let them try!" the men were bitter and resentful. presently the guide returned to see what had become of me. he took great pains to explain that industrial conditions in the mill had improved considerably since the militarization of labour went into effect. the men were more content and many more cars had been renovated and engines repaired than within an equal period under the previous management. there were , productively employed in the works, he assured me. i learned, however, that the real figure was less than , and that of these only about , were actual workers. the others were government officials and clerks. after the putilov works we visited the treugolnik, the great rubber factory of russia. the place was clean and the machinery in good order--a well-equipped modern plant. when we reached the main workroom we were met by the superintendent, who had been in charge for twenty-five years. he would show us around himself, he said. he seemed to take great pride in the factory, as if it were his own. it rather surprised me that they had managed to keep everything in such fine shape. the guide explained that it was because nearly the whole of the old staff had been left in charge. they felt that whatever might happen they must not let the place go to ruin. it was certainly very commendable, i thought, but soon i had occasion to change my mind. at one of the tables, cutting rubber, was an old worker with kindly eyes looking out of a sad, spiritual face. he reminded me of the pilgrim lucca in gorki's "night lodgings." our guide kept a sharp vigil, but i managed to slip away while the superintendent was explaining some machinery to the other members of our group. "well, _batyushka_, how is it with you?" i greeted the old worker. "bad, _matushka_," he replied; "times are very hard for us old people." i told him how impressed i was to find everything in such good condition in the shop. "that is so," commented the old worker, "but it is because the superintendent and his staff are hoping from day to day that there may be a change again, and that the treugolnik will go back to its former owners. i know them. i have worked here long before the german master of this plant put in the new machinery." passing through the various rooms of the factory i saw the women and girls look up in evident dread. it seemed strange in a country where the proletarians were the masters. apparently the machines were not the only things that had been carefully watched over--the old discipline, too, had been preserved: the employees thought us bolshevik inspectors. the great flour mill of petrograd, visited next, looked as if it were in a state of siege, with armed soldiers everywhere, even inside the workrooms. the explanation given was that large quantities of precious flour had been vanishing. the soldiers watched the millmen as if they were galley slaves, and the workers naturally resented such humiliating treatment. they hardly dared to speak. one young chap, a fine-looking fellow, complained to me of the conditions. "we are here virtual prisoners," he said; "we cannot make a step without permission. we are kept hard at work eight hours with only ten minutes for our _kipyatok_ [boiled water] and we are searched on leaving the mill." "is not the theft of flour the cause of the strict surveillance?" i asked. "not at all," replied the boy; "the commissars of the mill and the soldiers know quite well where the flour goes to." i suggested that the workers might protest against such a state of affairs. "protest, to whom?" the boy exclaimed; "we'd be called speculators and counter-revolutionists and we'd be arrested." "has the revolution given you nothing?" i asked. "ah, the revolution! but that is no more. finished," he said bitterly. the following morning we visited the laferm tobacco factory. the place was in full operation. we were conducted through the plant and the whole process was explained to us, beginning with the sorting of the raw material and ending with the finished cigarettes packed for sale or shipment. the air in the workrooms was stifling, nauseating. "the women are used to this atmosphere," said the guide; "they don't mind." there were some pregnant women at work and girls no older than fourteen. they looked haggard, their chests sunken, black rings under their eyes. some of them coughed and the hectic flush of consumption showed on their faces. "is there a recreation room, a place where they can eat or drink their tea and inhale a bit of fresh air?" there was no such thing, i was informed. the women remained at work eight consecutive hours; they had their tea and black bread at their benches. the system was that of piece work, the employees receiving twenty-five cigarettes daily above their pay with permission to sell or exchange them. i spoke to some of the women. they did not complain except about being compelled to live far away from the factory. in most cases it required more than two hours to go to and from work. they had asked to be quartered near the laferm and they received a promise to that effect, but nothing more was heard of it. life certainly has a way of playing peculiar pranks. in america i should have scorned the idea of social welfare work: i should have considered it a cheap palliative. but in socialist russia the sight of pregnant women working in suffocating tobacco air and saturating themselves and their unborn with the poison impressed me as a fundamental evil. i spoke to lisa zorin to see whether something could not be done to ameliorate the evil. lisa claimed that "piece work" was the only way to induce the girls to work. as to rest rooms, the women themselves had already made a fight for them, but so far nothing could be done because no space could be spared in the factory. "but if even such small improvements had not resulted from the revolution," i argued, "what purpose has it served?" "the workers have achieved control," lisa replied; "they are now in power, and they have more important things to attend to than rest rooms--they have the revolution to defend." lisa zorin had remained very much the proletarian, but she reasoned like a nun dedicated to the service of the church. the thought oppressed me that what she called the "defence of the revolution" was really only the defence of her party in power. at any rate, nothing came of my attempt at social welfare work. chapter x the british labour mission i was glad to learn that angelica balabanova arrived in petrograd to prepare quarters for the british labour mission. during my stay in moscow i had come to know and appreciate the fine spirit of angelica. she was very devoted to me and when i fell ill she gave much time to my care, procured medicine which could be obtained only in the kremlin drug store, and got special sick rations for me. her friendship was generous and touching, and she endeared herself very much to me. the narishkin palace was to be prepared for the mission, and angelica invited me to accompany her there. i noticed that she looked more worn and distressed than when i had seen her in moscow. our conversation made it clear to me that she suffered keenly from the reality which was so unlike her ideal. but she insisted that what seemed failure to me was conditioned in life itself, itself the greatest failure. narishkin palace is situated on the southern bank of the neva, almost opposite the peter-and-paul fortress. the place was prepared for the expected guests and a number of servants and cooks installed to minister to their needs. soon the mission arrived--most of them typical workingmen delegates--and with them a staff of newspaper men and mrs. snowden. the most outstanding figure among them was bertrand russell, who quickly demonstrated his independence and determination to be free to investigate and learn at first hand. in honour of the mission the bolsheviki organized a great demonstration on the uritski square. thousands of people, among them women and children, came to show their gratitude to the english labour representatives for venturing into revolutionary russia. the ceremony consisted of the singing of the "internationale," followed by music and speeches, the latter translated by balabanova in masterly fashion. then came the military exercises. i heard mrs. snowden say disapprovingly, "what a display of military!" i could not resist the temptation of remarking: "madame, remember that the big russian army is largely the making of your own country. had england not helped to finance the invasions into russia, the latter could put its soldiers to useful labour." the british mission was entertained royally with theatres, operas, ballets, and excursions. luxury was heaped upon them while the people slaved and went hungry. the soviet government left nothing undone to create a good impression and everything of a disturbing nature was kept from the visitors. angelica hated the display and sham, and suffered keenly under the rigid watch placed upon every movement of the mission. "why should they not see the true state of russia? why should they not learn how the russian people live?" she would lament. "yet i am so impractical," she would correct herself; "perhaps it is all necessary." at the end of two weeks a farewell banquet was given to the visitors. angelica insisted that i must attend. again there were speeches and toasts, as is the custom at such functions. the speeches which seemed to ring most sincere were those of balabanova and madame ravitch. the latter asked me to interpret her address, which i did. she spoke in behalf of the russian women proletarians and praised their fortitude and devotion to the revolution. "may the english proletarians learn the quality of their heroic russian sisters," concluded madame ravitch. mrs. snowden, the erstwhile suffragette, had not a word in reply. she preserved a "dignified" aloofness. however, the lady became enlivened when the speeches were over and she got busy collecting autographs. chapter xi a visit from the ukraina early in may two young men from the ukraina arrived in petrograd. both had lived in america for a number of years and had been active in the yiddish labour and anarchist movements. one of them had also been editor of an english weekly anarchist paper, _the alarm_, published in chicago. in , at the outbreak of the revolution, they left for russia together with other emigrants. arriving in their native country, they joined the anarchist activities there which had gained tremendous impetus through the revolution. their main field was the ukraina. in they aided in the organization of the anarchist federation _nabat_ [alarm], and began the publication of a paper by that name. theoretically, they were at variance with the bolsheviki; practically the federation anarchists, even as the anarchists throughout russia, worked with the bolsheviki and also fought on every front against the counter-revolutionary forces. when the two ukrainian comrades learned of our arrival in russia they repeatedly tried to reach us, but owing to the political conditions and the practical impossibility of travelling, they could not come north. subsequently they had been arrested and imprisoned by the bolsheviki. immediately upon their release they started for petrograd, travelling illegally. they knew the dangers confronting them--arrest and possible shooting for the possession and use of false documents--but they were willing to risk anything because they were determined that we should learn the facts about the _povstantsi_ [revolutionary peasants] movements led by that extraordinary figure, nestor makhno. they wanted to acquaint us with the history of the anarchist activities in russia and relate how the iron hand of the bolsheviki had crushed them. during two weeks, in the stillness of the petrograd nights, the two ukrainian anarchists unrolled before us the panorama of the struggle in the ukraina. dispassionately, quietly, and with almost uncanny detachment the young men told their story. thirteen different governments had "ruled" ukraina. each of them had robbed and murdered the peasantry, made ghastly pogroms, and left death and ruin in its way. the ukrainian peasants, a more independent and spirited race than their northern brothers, had come to hate all governments and every measure which threatened their land and freedom. they banded together and fought back their oppressors all through the long years of the revolutionary period. the peasants had no theories; they could not be classed in any political party. theirs was an instinctive hatred of tyranny, and practically the whole of ukraina soon became a rebel camp. into this seething cauldron there came, in , nestor makhno. makhno was a ukrainian born. a natural rebel, he became interested in anarchism at an early age. at seventeen he attempted the life of a tsarist spy and was sentenced to death, but owing to his extreme youth the sentence was commuted to _katorga_ for life [severe imprisonment, one third of the term in chains]. the february revolution opened the prison doors for all political prisoners, makhno among them. he had then spent ten years in the butirky prison, in moscow. he had but a limited schooling when first arrested, but in prison he had used his leisure to good advantage. by the time of his release he had acquired considerable knowledge of history, political economy, and literature. shortly after his liberation makhno returned to his native village, gulyai-poleh, where he organized a trade union and the local soviet. then he threw himself in the revolutionary movement and during all of he was the spiritual teacher and leader of the rebel peasants, who had risen against the landed proprietors. in , when the brest peace opened ukraina to german and austrian occupation, makhno organized the rebel peasant bands in defence against the foreign armies. he fought against skoropadski, the ukrainian hetman, who was supported by german bayonets. he waged successful guerilla warfare against petlura, kaledin, grigoriev, and denikin. a conscious anarchist, he laboured to give the instinctive rebellion of the peasantry definite aim and purpose. it was the makhno idea that the social revolution was to be defended against all enemies, against every counter-revolutionary or reactionary attempt from right and left. at the same time educational and cultural work was carried on among the peasants to develop them along anarchist-communist lines with the aim of establishing free peasant communes. in february, , makhno entered into an agreement with the red army. he was to continue to hold the southern front against denikin and to receive from the bolsheviki the necessary arms and ammunition. makhno was to remain in charge of the _povstantsi_, now grown into an army, the latter to have autonomy in its local organizations, the revolutionary soviets of the district, which covered several provinces. it was agreed that the _povstantsi_ should have the right to hold conferences, freely discuss their affairs, and take action upon them. three such conferences were held in february, march, and april. but the bolsheviki failed to live up to the agreement. the supplies which had been promised makhno, and which he needed desperately, would arrive after long delays or failed to come altogether. it was charged that this situation was due to the orders of trotsky who did not look favourably upon the independent rebel army. however it be, makhno was hampered at every step, while denikin was gaining ground constantly. presently the bolsheviki began to object to the free peasant soviets, and in may, , the commander-in-chief of the southern armies, kamenev, accompanied by members of the kharkov government, arrived at the makhno headquarters to settle the disputed matters. in the end the bolshevik military representatives demanded that the _povstantsi_ dissolve. the latter refused, charging the bolsheviki with a breach of their revolutionary agreement. meanwhile, the denikin advance was becoming more threatening, and makhno still received no support from the bolsheviki. the peasant army then decided to call a special session of the soviet for june th. definite plans and methods were to be decided upon to check the growing menace of denikin. but on june th trotsky issued an order prohibiting the holding of the conference and declaring makhno an outlaw. in a public meeting in kharkov trotsky announced that it were better to permit the whites to remain in the ukraina than to suffer makhno. the presence of the whites, he said, would influence the ukrainian peasantry in favour of the soviet government, whereas makhno and his _povstantsi_ would never make peace with the bolsheviki; they would attempt to possess themselves of some territory and to practice their ideas, which would be a constant menace to the communist government. it was practically a declaration of war against makhno and his army. soon the latter found itself attacked on two sides at once--by the bolsheviki and denikin. the _povstantsi_ were poorly equipped and lacked the most necessary supplies for warfare, yet the peasant army for a considerable time succeeded in holding its own by the sheer military genius of its leader and the reckless courage of his devoted rebels. at the same time the bolsheviki began a campaign of denunciation against makhno and his _povstantsi_. the communist press accused him of having treacherously opened the southern front to denikin, and branded makhno's army a bandit gang and its leader a counter-revolutionist who must be destroyed at all cost. but this "counter-revolutionist" fully realized the denikin menace to the revolution. he gathered new forces and support among the peasants and in the months of september and october, , his campaign against denikin gave the latter its death blow on the ukraina. makhno captured denikin's artillery base at mariopol, annihilated the rear of the enemy's army, and succeeded in separating the main body from its base of supply. this brilliant manoeuvre of makhno and the heroic fighting of the rebel army again brought about friendly contact with the bolsheviki. the ban was lifted from the _povstantsi_ and the communist press now began to eulogize makhno as a great military genius and brave defender of the revolution in the ukraina. but the differences between makhno and the bolsheviki were deep-rooted: he strove to establish free peasant communes in the ukraina, while the communists were bent on imposing the moscow rule. ultimately a clash was inevitable, and it came early in january, . at that period a new enemy was threatening the revolution. grigoriev, formerly of the tsarist army, later friend of the bolsheviki, now turned against them. having gained considerable support in the south because of his slogans of freedom and free soviets, grigoriev proposed to makhno that they join forces against the communist régime. makhno called a meeting of the two armies and there publicly accused grigoriev of counter-revolution and produced evidence of numerous pogroms organized by him against the jews. declaring grigoriev an enemy of the people and of the revolution, makhno and his staff condemned him and his aides to death, executing them on the spot. part of grigoriev's army joined makhno. meanwhile, denikin kept pressing makhno, finally forcing him to withdraw from his position. not of course without bitter fighting all along the line of nine hundred versts, the retreat lasting four months, makhno marching toward galicia. denikin advanced upon kharkov, then farther north, capturing orel and kursk, and finally reached the gates of tula, in the immediate neighbourhood of moscow. the red army seemed powerless to check the advance of denikin, but meanwhile makhno had gathered new forces and attacked denikin in the rear. the unexpectedness of this new turn and the extraordinary military exploits of makhno's men in this campaign disorganized the plans of denikin, demoralized his army, and gave the red army the opportunity of taking the offensive against the counter-revolutionary enemy in the neighbourhood of tula. when the red army reached alexandrovsk, after having finally beaten the denikin forces, trotsky again demanded of makhno that he disarm his men and place himself under the discipline of the red army. the _povstantsi_ refused, whereupon an organized military campaign against the rebels was inaugurated, the bolsheviki taking many prisoners and killing scores of others. makhno, who managed to escape the bolshevik net, was again declared an outlaw and bandit. since then makhno had been uninterruptedly waging guerilla warfare against the bolshevik régime. the story of the ukrainian friends, which i have related here in very condensed form, sounded as romantic as the exploits of stenka rasin, the famous cossack rebel immortalized by gogol. romantic and picturesque, but what bearing did the activities of makhno and his men have upon anarchism, i questioned the two comrades. makhno, my informants explained, was himself an anarchist seeking to free ukraina from all oppression and striving to develop and organize the peasants' latent anarchistic tendencies. to this end makhno had repeatedly called upon the anarchists of the ukraina and of russia to aid him. he offered them the widest opportunity for propagandistic and educational work, supplied them with printing outfits and meeting places, and gave them the fullest liberty of action. whenever makhno captured a city, freedom of speech and press for anarchists and left social revolutionists was established. makhno often said: "i am a military man and i have no time for educational work. but you who are writers and speakers, you can do that work. join me and together we shall be able to prepare the field for a real anarchist experiment." but the chief value of the makhno movement lay in the peasants themselves, my comrades thought. it was a spontaneous, elemental movement, the peasants' opposition to all governments being the result not of theories but of bitter experience and of instinctive love of liberty. they were fertile ground for anarchist ideas. for this reason a number of anarchists joined makhno. they were with him in most of his military campaigns and energetically carried on anarchist propaganda during that time. i have been told by zorin and other communists that makhno was a jew-baiter and that his _povstantsi_ were responsible for numerous brutal pogroms. my visitors emphatically denied the charges. makhno bitterly fought pogroms, they stated; he had often issued proclamations against such outrages, and he had even with his own hand punished some of those guilty of assault on jews. hatred of the hebrew was of course common in the ukraina; it was not eradicated even among the red soldiers. they, too, have assaulted, robbed, and outraged jews; yet no one holds the bolsheviki responsible for such isolated instances. the ukraina is infested with armed bands who are often mistaken for makhnovtsi and who have made pogroms. the bolsheviki, aware of this, have exploited the confusion to discredit makhno and his followers. however, the anarchist of the ukraina--i was informed--did not idealize the makhno movement. they knew that the _povstantsi_ were not conscious anarchists. their paper _nabat_ had repeatedly emphasized this fact. on the other hand, the anarchists could not overlook the importance of popular movement which was instinctively rebellious, anarchistically inclined, and successful in driving back the enemies of the revolution, which the better organized and equipped bolshevik army could not accomplish. for this reason many anarchists considered it their duty to work with makhno. but the bulk remained away; they had their larger cultural, educational, and organizing work to do. the invading counter-revolutionary forces, though differing in character and purpose, all agreed in their relentless persecution of the anarchists. the latter were made to suffer, whatever the new régime. the bolsheviki were no better in this regard than denikin or any other white element. anarchists filled bolshevik prisons; many had been shot and all legal anarchist activities were suppressed. the tcheka especially was doing ghastly work, having resurrected the old tsarist methods, including even torture. my young visitors spoke from experience: they had repeatedly been in bolshevik prisons themselves. chapter xii beneath the surface the terrible story i had been listening to for two weeks broke over me like a storm. was this the revolution i had believed in all my life, yearned for, and strove to interest others in, or was it a caricature--a hideous monster that had come to jeer and mock me? the communists i had met daily during six months--self-sacrificing, hard-working men and women imbued with a high ideal--were such people capable of the treachery and horrors charged against them? zinoviev, radek, zorin, ravitch, and many others i had learned to know--could they in the name of an ideal lie, defame, torture, kill? but, then--had not zorin told me that capital punishment had been abolished in russia? yet i learned shortly after my arrival that hundreds of people had been shot on the very eve of the day when the new decree went into effect, and that as a matter of fact shooting by the tcheka had never ceased. that my friends were not exaggerating when they spoke of tortures by the tcheka, i also learned from other sources. complaints about the fearful conditions in petrograd prisons had become so numerous that moscow was apprised of the situation. a tcheka inspector came to investigate. the prisoners being afraid to speak, immunity was promised them. but no sooner had the inspector left than one of the inmates, a young boy, who had been very outspoken about the brutalities practised by the tcheka, was dragged out of his cell and cruelly beaten. why did zorin resort to lies? surely he must have known that i would not remain in the dark very long. and then, was not lenin also guilty of the same methods? "anarchists of ideas [_ideyni_] are not in our prisons," he had assured me. yet at that very moment numerous anarchists filled the jails of moscow and petrograd and of many other cities in russia. in may, , scores of them had been arrested in petrograd, among them two girls of seventeen and nineteen years of age. none of the prisoners were charged with counter-revolutionary activities: they were "anarchists of ideas," to use lenin's expression. several of them had issued a manifesto for the first of may, calling attention to the appalling conditions in the factories of the socialist republic. the two young girls who had circulated a handbill against the "labour book," which had then just gone into effect, were also arrested. the labour book was heralded by the bolsheviki as one of the great communist achievements. it would establish equality and abolish parasitism, it was claimed. as a matter of fact, the labour book was somewhat of the character of the yellow ticket issued to prostitutes under the tsarist régime. it was a record of every step one made, and without it no step could be made. it bound its holder to his job, to the city he lived in, and to the room he occupied. it recorded one's political faith and party adherence, and the number of times he was arrested. in short, a yellow ticket. even some communists resented the degrading innovation. the anarchists who protested against it were arrested by the tcheka. when certain leading communists were approached in the matter they repeated what lenin had said: "no anarchists of ideas are in our prisons." the aureole was falling from the communists. all of them seemed to believe that the end justified the means. i recalled the statements of radek at the first anniversary of the third international, when he related to his audience the "marvellous spread of communism" in america. "fifty thousand communists are in american prisons," he exclaimed. "molly stimer, a girl of eighteen, and her male companions, all communists, had been deported from america for their communist activities." i thought at the time that radek was misinformed. yet it seemed strange that he did not make sure of his facts before making such assertions. they were dishonest and an insult to molly stimer and her anarchist comrades, added to the injustice they had suffered at the hands of the american plutocracy. during the past several months i had seen and heard enough to become somewhat conversant with the communist psychology, as well as with the theories and methods of the bolsheviki. i was no longer surprised at the story of their double-dealing with makhno, the brutalities practised by the tcheka, the lies of zorin. i had come to realize that the communists believed implicitly in the jesuitic formula that the end justifies _all_ means. in fact, they gloried in that formula. any suggestion of the value of human life, quality of character, the importance of revolutionary integrity as the basis of a new social order, was repudiated as "bourgeois sentimentality," which had no place in the revolutionary scheme of things. for the bolsheviki the end to be achieved was the communist state, or the so-called dictatorship of the proletariat. everything which advanced that end was justifiable and revolutionary. the lenins, radeks, and zorins were therefore quite consistent. obsessed by the infallibility of their creed, giving of themselves to the fullest, they could be both heroic and despicable at the same time. they could work twenty hours a day, live on herring and tea, and order the slaughter of innocent men and women. occasionally they sought to mask their killings by pretending a "misunderstanding," for doesn't the end justify all means? they could employ torture and deny the inquisition, they could lie and defame, and call themselves idealists. in short, they could make themselves and others believe that everything was legitimate and right from the revolutionary viewpoint; any other policy was weak, sentimental, or a betrayal of the revolution. on a certain occasion, when i passed criticism on the brutal way delicate women were driven into the streets to shovel snow, insisting that even if they had belonged to the bourgeoisie they were human, and that physical fitness should be taken into consideration, a communist said to me: "you should be ashamed of yourself; you, an old revolutionist, and yet so sentimental." it was the same attitude that some communists assumed toward angelica balabanova, because she was always solicitous and eager to help wherever possible. in short, i had come to see that the bolsheviki were social puritans who sincerely believed that they alone were ordained to save mankind. my relations with the bolsheviki became more strained, my attitude toward the revolution as i found it more critical. one thing grew quite clear to me: i could not affiliate myself with the soviet government; i could not accept any work which would place me under the control of the communist machine. the commissariat of education was so thoroughly dominated by that machine that it was hopeless to expect anything but routine work. in fact, unless one was a communist one could accomplish almost nothing. i had been eager to join lunacharsky, whom i considered one of the most cultivated and least dogmatic of the communists in high position. but i became convinced that lunacharsky himself was a helpless cog in the machine, his best efforts constantly curtailed and checked. i had also learned a great deal about the system of favouritism and graft that prevailed in the management of the schools and the treatment of children. some schools were in splendid condition, the children well fed and well clad, enjoying concerts, theatricals, dances, and other amusements. but the majority of the schools and children's homes were squalid, dirty, and neglected. those in charge of the "preferred" schools had little difficulty in procuring everything needed for their charges, often having an over-supply. but the caretakers of the "common" schools would waste their time and energies by the week going about from one department to another, discouraged and faint with endless waiting before they could obtain the merest necessities. at first i ascribed this condition of affairs to the scarcity of food and materials. i heard it said often enough that the blockade and intervention were responsible. to a large extent that was true. had russia not been so starved, mismanagement and graft would not have had such fatal results. but added to the prevalent scarcity of things was the dominant notion of communist propaganda. even the children had to serve that end. the well-kept schools were for show, for the foreign missions and delegates who were visiting russia. everything was lavished on these show schools at the cost of the others. i remembered how everybody was startled in petrograd by an article in the petrograd _pravda_ of may, disclosing appalling conditions in the schools. a committee of the young communist organizations investigated some of the institutions. they found the children dirty, full of vermin, sleeping on filthy mattresses, fed on miserable food, punished by being locked in dark rooms for the night, forced to go without their suppers, and even beaten. the number of officials and employees in the schools was nothing less than criminal. in one school, for instance, there were of them to children. in another, to children. all these parasites were taking the bread from the very mouths of the unfortunate children. the zorins had spoken to me repeatedly of lillina, the woman in charge of the petrograd educational department. she was a wonderful worker, they said, devoted and able. i had heard her speak on several occasions, but was not impressed: she looked prim and self-satisfied, a typical puritan schoolma'am. but i would not form an opinion until i had talked with her. at the publication of the school disclosures i decided to see lillina. we conversed over an hour about the schools in her charge, about education in general, the problem of defective children and their treatment. she made light of the abuses in her schools, claiming that "the young comrades had exaggerated the defects." at any rate, she added, the guilty had already been removed from the schools. similarly to many other responsible communists lillina was consecrated to her work and gave all her time and energies to it. naturally, she could not personally oversee everything; the show schools being the most important in her estimation, she devoted most of her time to them. the other schools were left in the care of her numerous assistants, whose fitness for the work was judged largely according to their political usefulness. our talk strengthened my conviction that i could have no part in the work of the bolshevik board of education. the board of health offered as little opportunity for real service--service that should not discriminate in favour of show hospitals or the political views of the patients. this principle of discrimination prevailed, unfortunately, even in the sick rooms. like all communist institutions, the board of health was headed by a political commissar, doctor pervukhin. he was anxious to secure my assistance, proposing to put me in charge of factory, dispensary, or district nursing--a very flattering and tempting offer, and one that appealed to me strongly. i had several conferences with doctor pervukhin, but they led to no practical result. whenever i visited his department i found groups of men and women waiting, endlessly waiting. they were doctors and nurses, members of the _intelligentsia_--none of them communists--who were employed in various medical branches, but their time and energies were being wasted in the waiting rooms of doctor pervukhin, the political commissar. they were a sorry lot, dispirited and dejected, those men and women, once the flower of russia. was i to join this tragic procession, submit to the political yoke? not until i should become convinced that the yoke was indispensable to the revolutionary process would i consent to it. i felt that i must first secure work of a non-partisan character, work that would enable me to study conditions in russia and get into direct touch with the people, the workers and peasants. only then should i be able to find my way out of the chaos of doubt and mental anguish that i had fallen prey to. chapter xiii joining the museum of the revolution the museum of the revolution is housed in the winter palace, in the suite once used as the nursery of the tsar's children. the entrance to that part of the palace is known as _detsky podyezd_. from the windows of the palace the tsar must have often looked across the neva at the peter-and-paul fortress, the living tomb of his political enemies. how different things were now! the thought of it kindled my imagination. i was full of the wonder and the magic of the great change when i paid my first visit to the museum. i found groups of men and women at work in the various rooms, huddled up in their wraps and shivering with cold. their faces were bloated and bluish, their hands frost-bitten, their whole appearance shadow-like. what must be the devotion of these people, i thought, when they can continue to work under such conditions. the secretary of the museum, m. b. kaplan, received me very cordially and expressed "the hope that i would join in the work of the museum." he and another member of the staff spent considerable time with me on several occasions, explaining the plans and purposes of the museum. they asked me to join the expedition which the museum was then organizing, and which was to go south to the ukraina and the caucasus. valuable material of the revolutionary period was to be gathered there, they explained. the idea attracted me. aside from my general interest in the museum and its efforts, it meant non-partisan work, free from commissars, and an exceptional opportunity to see and study russia. in the course of our acquaintance i learned that neither mr. kaplan nor his friend was a communist. but while mr. kaplan was strongly pro-bolshevik and tried to defend and explain away everything, the other man was critical though by no means antagonistic. during my stay in petrograd i saw much of both men, and i learned from them a great deal about the revolution and the methods of the bolsheviki. kaplan's friend, whose name for obvious reasons i cannot mention, often spoke of the utter impossibility of doing creative work within the communist machine. "the bolsheviki," he would say, "always complain about lack of able help, yet no one--unless a communist--has much of a chance." the museum was among the least interfered with institutions, and work there had been progressing well. then a group of twenty youths were sent over, young and inexperienced boys unfamiliar with the work. being communists they were placed in positions of authority, and friction and confusion resulted. everyone felt himself watched and spied upon. "the bolsheviki care not about merit," he said; "their chief concern is a membership card." he was not enthusiastic about the future of the museum, yet believed that the coöperation of the "americans" would aid its proper development. finally i decided on the museum as offering the most suitable work for me, mainly because that institution was non-partisan. i had hoped for a more vital share in russia's life than the collecting of historical material; still i considered it valuable and necessary work. when i had definitely consented to become a member of the expedition, i visited the museum daily to help with the preparations for the long journey. there was much work. it was no easy matter to obtain a car, equip it for the arduous trip, and secure the documents which would give us access to the material we set out to collect. while i was busy aiding in these preparations angelica balabanova arrived in petrograd to meet the italian mission. she seemed transformed. she had longed for her italian comrades: they would bring her a breath of her beloved italy, of her former life and work there. though russian by birth, training, and revolutionary traditions, angelica had become rooted in the soil of italy. well i understood her and her sense of strangeness in the country, the hard soil of which was to bear a new and radiant life. angelica would not admit even to herself that the much hoped-for life was stillborn. but knowing her as i did, it was not difficult for me to understand how bitter was her grief over the hapless and formless thing that had come to russia. but now her beloved italians were coming! they would bring with them the warmth and colour of italy. the italians came and with them new festivities, demonstrations, meetings, and speeches. how different it all appeared to me from my memorable first days on belo-ostrov. no doubt the italians now felt as awed as i did then, as inspired by the seeming wonder of russia. six months and the close proximity with the reality of things quite changed the picture for me. the spontaneity, the enthusiasm, the vitality had all gone out of it. only a pale shadow remained, a grinning phantom that clutched at my heart. on the uritski square the masses were growing weary with long waiting. they had been kept there for hours before the italian mission arrived from the tauride palace. the ceremonies were just beginning when a woman leaning against the platform, wan and pale, began to weep. i stood close by. "it is easy for them to talk," she moaned, "but we've had no food all day. we received orders to march directly from our work on pain of losing our bread rations. since five this morning i am on my feet. we were not permitted to go home after work to our bit of dinner. we had to come here. seventeen hours on a piece of bread and some _kipyatok_ [boiled water]. do the visitors know anything about us?" the speeches went on, the "internationale" was being repeated for the tenth time, the sailors performed their fancy exercises and the claqueurs on the reviewing stand were shouting hurrahs. i rushed away. i, too, was weeping, though my eyes remained dry. the italian, like the english, mission was quartered in the narishkin palace. one day, on visiting angelica there, i found her in a perturbed state of mind. through one of the servants she had learned that the ex-princess narishkin, former owner of the palace, had come to beg for the silver ikon which had been in the family for generations. "just that ikon," she had implored. but the ikon was now state property, and balabanova could do nothing about it. "just think," angelica said, "narishkin, old and desolate, now stands on the street corner begging, and i live in this palace. how dreadful is life! i am no good for it; i must get away." but angelica was bound by party discipline; she stayed on in the palace until she returned to moscow. i know she did not feel much happier than the ragged and starving ex-princess begging on the street corner. balabanova, anxious that i should find suitable work, informed me one day that petrovsky, known in america as doctor goldfarb, had arrived in petrograd. he was chief of the central military education department, which included nurses' training schools. i had never met the man in the states, but i had heard of him as the labour editor of the new york _forward_, the jewish socialist daily. he offered me the position of head instructress in the military nurses' training school, with a view to introducing american methods of nursing, or to send me with a medical train to the polish front. i had proffered my services at the first news of the polish attack on russia: i felt the revolution in danger, and i hastened to zorin to ask to be assigned as a nurse. he promised to bring the matter before the proper authorities, but i heard nothing further about it. i was, therefore, somewhat surprised at the proposition of petrovsky. however, it came too late. what i had since learned about the situation in the ukraina, the bolshevik methods toward makhno and the _povstantsi_ movement, the persecution of anarchists, and the tcheka activities, had completely shaken my faith in the bolsheviki as revolutionists. the offer came too late. but moscow perhaps thought it unwise to let me see behind the scenes at the front; petrovsky failed to inform me of the moscow decision. i felt relieved. at last we received the glad tidings that the greatest difficulty had been overcome: a car for the museum expedition had been secured. it consisted of six compartments and was newly painted and cleaned. now began the work of equipment. ordinarily it would have taken another two months, but we had the coöperation of the man at the head of the museum, chairman yatmanov, a communist. he was also in charge of all the properties of the winter palace where the museum is housed. the largest part of the linen, silver, and glassware from the tsar's storerooms had been removed, but there was still much left. supplied with an order of the chairman i was shown over what was once guarded as sacred precincts by romanov flunkeys. i found rooms stacked to the ceiling with rare and beautiful china and compartments filled with the finest linen. the basement, running the whole length of the winter palace, was stocked with kitchen utensils of every size and variety. tin plates and pots would have been more appropriate for the expedition, but owing to the ruling that no institution may draw upon another for anything it has in its own possession, there was nothing to do but to choose the simplest obtainable at the winter palace. i went home reflecting upon the strangeness of life: revolutionists eating out of the crested service of the romanovs. but i felt no elation over it. chapter xiv petropavlovsk and schlÜsselburg as some time was to pass before we could depart, i took advantage of the opportunity which presented itself to visit the historic prisons, the peter-and-paul fortress and schlüsselburg. i recollected the dread and awe the very names of these places filled me with when i first came to petrograd as a child of thirteen. in fact, my dread of the petropavlovsk fortress dated back to a much earlier time. i think i must have been six years old when a great shock had come to our family: we learned that my mother's oldest brother, yegor, a student at the university of petersburg, had been arrested and was held in the fortress. my mother at once set out for the capital. we children remained at home in fear and trepidation lest mother should not find our uncle among the living. we spent anxious weeks and months till finally mother returned. great was our rejoicing to hear that she had rescued her brother from the living dead. but the memory of the shock remained with me for a long time. seven years later, my family then living in petersburg, i happened to be sent on an errand which took me past the peter-and-paul fortress. the shock i had received many years before revived within me with paralyzing force. there stood the heavy mass of stone, dark and sinister. i was terrified. the great prison was still to me a haunted house, causing my heart to palpitate with fear whenever i had to pass it. years later, when i had begun to draw sustenance from the lives and heroism of the great russian revolutionists, the peter-and-paul fortress became still more hateful. and now i was about to enter its mysterious walls and see with my own eyes the place which had been the living grave of so many of the best sons and daughters of russia. the guide assigned to take us through the different ravelins had been in the prison for ten years. he knew every stone in the place. but the silence told me more than all the information of the guide. the martyrs who had beaten their wings against the cold stone, striving upward toward the light and air, came to life for me. the dekabristi, tchernishevsky, dostoyevsky, bakunin, kropotkin, and scores of others spoke in a thousand-throated voice of their social idealism and their personal suffering--of their high hopes and fervent faith in the ultimate liberation of russia. now the fluttering spirits of the heroic dead may rest in peace: their dream has come true. but what is this strange writing on the wall? "to-night i am to be shot because i had once acquired an education." i had almost lost consciousness of the reality. the inscription roused me to it. "what is this?" i asked the guard. "those are the last words of an _intelligent_," he replied. "after the october revolution the _intelligentsia_ filled this prison. from here they were taken out and shot, or were loaded on barges never to return. those were dreadful days and still more dreadful nights." so the dream of those who had given their lives for the liberation of russia had not come true, after all. is there any change in the world? or is it all an eternal recurrence of man's inhumanity to man? we reached the strip of enclosure where the prisoners used to be permitted a half-hour's recreation. one by one they had to walk up and down the narrow lane in dead silence, with the sentries on the wall ready to shoot for the slightest infraction of the rules. and while the caged and fettered ones treaded the treeless walk, the all-powerful romanovs looked out of the winter palace toward the golden spire topping the fortress to reassure themselves that their hated enemies would never again threaten their safety. but not even petropavlovsk could save the tsars from the slaying hand of time and revolution. indeed, there _is_ change; slow and painful, but come it does. in the enclosure we met angelica balabanova and the italians. we walked about the huge prison, each absorbed in his own thoughts set in motion by what he saw. would angelica notice the writing on the wall, i wondered. "to-night i am to be shot because i had once acquired an education." some time later several of our group made a trip to schlüsselburg, the even more dreadful tomb of the political enemies of tsarism. it is a journey of several hours by boat up the beautiful river neva. the day was chilly and gray, as was our mood; just the right state of mind to visit schlüsselburg. the fortress was strongly guarded, but our museum permit secured for us immediate admission. schlüsselburg is a compact mass of stone perched upon a high rock in the open sea. for many decades only the victims of court intrigues and royal disfavour were immured within its impenetrable walls, but later it became the golgotha of the political enemies of the tsarist régime. i had heard of schlüsselburg when my parents first came to petersburg; but unlike my feeling toward the peter-and-paul fortress, i had no personal reaction to the place. it was russian revolutionary literature which brought the meaning of schlüsselburg home to me. especially the story of volkenstein, one of the two women who had spent long years in the dreaded place, left an indelible impression on my mind. yet nothing i had read made the place quite so real and terrifying as when i climbed up the stone steps and stood before the forbidding gates. as far as any effect upon the physical condition of the peter-and-paul fortress was concerned, the revolution might never have taken place. the prison remained intact, ready for immediate use by the new régime. not so schlüsselburg. the wrath of the proletariat struck that house of the dead almost to the ground. how cruel and perverse the human mind which could create a schlüsselburg! verily, no savage could be guilty of the fiendish spirit that conceived this appalling tomb. cells built like a bag, without doors or windows and with only a small opening through which the victims were lowered into their living grave. other cells were stone cages to drive the mind to madness and lacerate the heart of the unfortunates. yet men and women endured twenty years in this terrible place. what fortitude, what power of endurance, what sublime faith one must have had to hold out, to emerge from it alive! here netchaev, lopatin, morosov, volkenstein, figner, and others of the splendid band spent their tortured lives. here is the common grave of ulianov, mishkin, kalayev, balmashev, and many more. the black tablet inscribed with their names speaks louder than the voices silenced for ever. not even the roaring waves dashing against the rock of schlüsselburg can drown that accusing voice. petropavlovsk and schlüsselburg stand as the living proof of how futile is the hope of the mighty to escape the frankensteins of their own making. chapter xv the trade unions it was the month of june and the time of our departure was approaching. petrograd seemed more beautiful than ever; the white nights had come--almost broad daylight without its glare, the mysterious soothing white nights of petrograd. there were rumours of counter-revolutionary danger and the city was guarded against attack. martial law prevailing, it was forbidden to be out on the streets after a. m., even though it was almost daylight. occasionally special permits were obtained by friends and then we would walk through the deserted streets or along the banks of the dark neva, discussing in whispers the perplexing situation. i sought for some outstanding feature in the blurred picture--the russian revolution, a huge flame shooting across the world illuminating the black horizon of the disinherited and oppressed--the revolution, the new hope, the great spiritual awakening. and here i was in the midst of it, yet nowhere could i see the promise and fulfilment of the great event. had i misunderstood the meaning and nature of revolution? perhaps the wrong and the evil i have seen during those five months were inseparable from a revolution. or was it the political machine which the bolsheviki have created--is that the force which is crushing the revolution? if i had witnessed the birth of the latter i should now be better able to judge. but apparently i arrived at the end--the agonizing end of a people. it is all so complex, so impenetrable, a _tupik_, a blind alley, as the russians call it. only time and earnest study, aided by sympathetic understanding, will show me the way out. meanwhile, i must keep up my courage and--away from petrograd, out among the people. presently the long-awaited moment arrived. on june , , our car was coupled to a slow train called "maxim gorki," and we pulled out of the nikolayevski station, bound for moscow. in moscow there were many formalities to go through with. we thought a few days would suffice, but we remained two weeks. however, our stay was interesting. the city was alive with delegates to the second congress of the third international; from all parts of the world the workers had sent their comrades to the promised land, revolutionary russia, the first republic of the workers. among the delegates there were also anarchists and syndicalists who believed as firmly as i did six months previously that the bolsheviki were the symbol of the revolution. they had responded to the moscow call with enthusiasm. some of them i had met in petrograd and now they were eager to hear of my experiences and learn my opinions. but what was i to tell them, and would they believe me if i did? would i have believed any adverse criticism before i came to russia? besides, i felt that my views regarding the bolsheviki were still too unformed, too vague, a conglomeration of mere impressions. my old values had been shattered and so far i have been unable to replace them. i could therefore not speak on the fundamental questions, but i did inform my friends that the moscow and petrograd prisons were crowded with anarchists and other revolutionists, and i advised them not to content themselves with the official explanations but to investigate for themselves. i warned them that they would be surrounded by guides and interpreters, most of them men of the tcheka, and that they would not be able to learn the facts unless they made a determined, independent effort. there was considerable excitement in moscow at the time. the printers' union had been suppressed and its entire managing board sent to prison. the union had called a public meeting to which members of the british labour mission were invited. there the famous socialist revolutionist tchernov had unexpectedly made his appearance. he severely criticised the bolshevik régime, received an ovation from the huge audience of workers, and then vanished as mysteriously as he had come. the menshevik dan was less successful. he also addressed the meeting, but he failed to make his escape: he landed in the tcheka. the next morning the moscow _pravda_ and the _izvestia_ denounced the action of the printers' union as counter-revolutionary, and raged about tchernov having been permitted to speak. the papers called for exemplary punishment of the printers who dared defy the soviet government. the bakers' union, a very militant organization, had also been suppressed, and its management replaced by communists. several months before, in march, i had attended a convention of the bakers. the delegates impressed me as a courageous group who did not fear to criticise the bolshevik régime and present the demands of the workers. i wondered then that they were permitted to continue the conference, for they were outspoken in their opposition to the communists. "the bakers are 'shkurniki' [skinners]," i was told; "they always instigate strikes, and only counter-revolutionists can wish to strike in the workers' republic." but it seemed to me that the workers could not follow such reasoning. they did strike. they even committed a more heinous crime: they refused to vote for the communist candidate, electing instead a man of their own choice. this action of the bakers was followed by the arrest of several of their more active members. naturally the workers resented the arbitrary methods of the government. later i met some of the bakers and found them much embittered against the communist party and the government. i inquired about the condition of their union, telling them that i had been informed that the russian unions were very powerful and had practical control of the industrial life of the country. the bakers laughed. "the trade unions are the lackeys of the government," they said; "they have no independent function, and the workers have no say in them. the trade unions are doing mere police duty for the government." that sounded quite different from the story told by melnichansky, the chairman of the moscow trade union soviet, whom i had met on my first visit to moscow. on that occasion he had shown me about the trade union headquarters known as the _dom soyusov_, and explained how the organization worked. seven million workers were in the trade unions, he said; all trades and professions belonged to it. the workers themselves managed the industries and owned them. "the building you are in now is also owned by the unions," he remarked with pride; "formerly it was the house of the nobility." the room we were in had been used for festive assemblies and the great nobles sat in crested chairs around the table in the centre. melnichansky showed me the secret underground passage hidden by a little turntable, through which the nobles could escape in case of danger. they never dreamed that the workers would some day gather around the same table and sit in the beautiful hall of marble columns. the educational and cultural work done by the trade unions, the chairman further explained, was of the greatest scope. "we have our workers' colleges and other cultural institutions giving courses and lectures on various subjects. they are all managed by the workers. the unions own their own means of recreation, and we have access to all the theatres." it was apparent from his explanation that the trade unions of russia had reached a point far beyond anything known by labour organizations in europe and america. a similar account i had heard from tsiperovitch, the chairman of the petrograd trade unions, with whom i had made my first trip to moscow. he had also shown me about the petrograd labour temple, a beautiful and spacious building where the petrograd unions had their offices. his recital also made it clear that the workers of russia had at last come into their own. but gradually i began to see the other side of the medal. i found that like most things in russia the trade union picture had a double facet: one paraded before foreign visitors and "investigators," the other known by the masses. the bakers and the printers had recently been shown the other side. it was a lesson of the benefits that accrued to the trade unions in the socialist republic. in march i had attended an election meeting arranged by the workers of one of the large moscow factories. it was the most exciting gathering i had witnessed in russia--the dimly lit hall in the factory club rooms, the faces of the men and women worn with privation and suffering, the intense feeling over the wrong done them, all impressed me very strongly. their chosen representative, an anarchist, had been refused his mandate by the soviet authorities. it was the third time the workers gathered to re-elect their delegate to the moscow soviet, and every time they elected the same man. the communist candidate opposing him was semashko, the commissar of the department of health. i had expected to find an educated and cultured man. but the behaviour and language of the commissar at that election meeting would have put a hod-carrier to shame. he raved against the workers for choosing a non-communist, called anathema upon their heads, and threatened them with the tcheka and the curtailment of their rations. but he had no effect upon the audience except to emphasize their opposition to him, and to arouse antagonism against the party he represented. the final victory, however, was with semashko. the workers' choice was repudiated by the authorities and later even arrested and imprisoned. that was in march. in may, during the visit of the british labour mission, the factory candidate together with other political prisoners declared a hunger strike, which resulted in their liberation. the story told me by the bakers of their election experiences had the quality of our own wild west during its pioneer days. tchekists with loaded guns were in the habit of attending gatherings of the unions and they made it clear what would happen if the workers should fail to elect a communist. but the bakers, a strong and militant organization, would not be intimidated. they declared that no bread would be baked in moscow unless they were permitted to elect their own candidate. that had the desired effect. after the meeting the tchekists tried to arrest the candidate-elect, but the bakers surrounded him and saw him safely home. the next day they sent their ultimatum to the authorities, demanding recognition of their choice and threatening to strike in case of refusal. thus the bakers triumphed and gained an advantage over their less courageous brothers in the other labour organizations of minor importance. in starving russia the work of the bakers was as vital as life itself. chapter xvi maria spiridonova the commissariat of education also included the department of museums. the petrograd museum of the revolution had two chairmen; lunacharsky being one of them, it was necessary to secure his signature to our credentials which had already been signed by zinoviev, the second chairman of the museum. i was commissioned to see lunacharsky. i felt rather guilty before him. i left moscow in march promising to return within a week to join him in his work. now, four months later, i came to ask his coöperation in an entirely different field. i went to the kremlin determined to tell lunacharsky how i felt about the situation in russia. but i was relieved of the necessity by the presence of a number of people in his office; there was no time to take the matter up. i could merely inform lunacharsky of the purpose of the expedition and request his aid in the work. it met with his approval. he signed our credentials and also supplied me with letters of introduction and recommendation to facilitate our efforts in behalf of the museum. while our commission was making the necessary preparations for the trip to the ukraine, i found time to visit various institutions in moscow and to meet some interesting people. among them were certain well-known left social revolutionists whom i had met on my previous visit. i had told them then that i was eager to visit maria spiridonova, of whose condition i had heard many conflicting stories. but at that time no meeting could be arranged: it might have exposed spiridonova to danger, for she was living illegally, as a peasant woman. history indeed repeats itself. under the tsar spiridonova, also disguised as a country girl, had shadowed lukhanovsky, the governor of tamboy, of peasant-flogging fame. having shot him, she was arrested, tortured, and later sentenced to death. the western world became aroused, and it was due to its protests that the sentence of spiridonova was changed to siberian exile for life. she spent eleven years there; the february revolution brought her freedom and back to russia. maria spiridonova immediately threw herself into revolutionary activity. now, in the socialist republic, maria was again living in disguise after having escaped from the prison in the kremlin. arrangements were finally made to enable me to visit spiridonova, and i was cautioned to make sure that i was not followed by tcheka men. we agreed with maria's friends upon a meeting place and from there we zigzagged a number of streets till we at last reached the top floor of a house in the back of a yard. i was led into a small room containing a bed, small desk, bookcase, and several chairs. before the desk, piled high with letters and papers, sat a frail little woman, maria spiridonova. this, then, was one of russia's great martyrs, this woman who had so unflinchingly suffered the tortures inflicted upon her by the tsar's henchmen. i had been told by zorin and jack reed that spiridonova had suffered a breakdown, and was kept in a sanatorium. her malady, they said, was acute neurasthenia and hysteria. when i came face to face with maria, i immediately realized that both men had deceived me. i was no longer surprised at zorin: much of what he had told me i gradually discovered to be utterly false. as to reed, unfamiliar with the language and completely under the sway of the new faith, he took too much for granted. thus, on his return from moscow he came to inform me that the story of the shooting of prisoners _en masse_ on the eve of the abolition of capital punishment was really true; but, he assured me, it was all the fault of a certain official of the tcheka who had already paid with his life for it. i had opportunity to investigate the matter. i found that jack had again been misled. it was not that a certain man was responsible for the wholesale killing on that occasion. the act was conditioned in the whole system and character of the tcheka. i spent two days with maria spiridonova, listening to her recital of events since october, . she spoke at length about the enthusiasm and zeal of the masses and the hopes held out by the bolsheviki; of their ascendancy to power and gradual turn to the right. she explained the brest-litovsk peace which she considered as the first link in the chain that has since fettered the revolution. she dwelt on the _razverstka_, the system of forcible requisition, which was devastating russia and discrediting everything the revolution had been fought for; she referred to the terrorism practised by the bolsheviki against every revolutionary criticism, to the new communist bureaucracy and inefficiency, and the hopelessness of the whole situation. it was a crushing indictment against the bolsheviki, their theories and methods. if spiridonova had really suffered a breakdown, as i had been assured, and was hysterical and mentally unbalanced, she must have had extraordinary control of herself. she was calm, self-contained, and clear on every point. she had the fullest command of her material and information. on several occasions during her narrative, when she detected doubt in my face, she remarked: "i fear you don't quite believe me. well, here is what some of the peasants write me," and she would reach over to a pile of letters on her desk and read to me passages heart-rending with misery and bitter against the bolsheviki. in stilted handwriting, sometimes almost illegible, the peasants of the ukraine and siberia wrote of the horrors of the _razverstka_ and what it had done to them and their land. "they have taken away everything, even the last seeds for the next sowing." "the commissars have robbed us of everything." thus ran the letters. frequently peasants wanted to know whether spiridonova had gone over to the bolsheviki. "if you also forsake us, _matushka_, we have no one to turn to," one peasant wrote. the enormity of her accusations challenged credence. after all, the bolsheviki were revolutionists. how could they be guilty of the terrible things charged against them? perhaps they were not responsible for the situation as it had developed; they had the whole world against them. there was the brest peace, for instance. when the news of it first reached america i happened to be in prison. i reflected long and carefully whether soviet russia was justified in negotiating with german imperialism. but i could see no way out of the situation. i was in favour of the brest peace. since i came to russia i heard conflicting versions of it. nearly everyone, excepting the communists, considered the brest agreement as much a betrayal of the revolution as the rôle of the german socialists in the war--a betrayal of the spirit of internationalism. the communists, on the other hand, were unanimous in defending the peace and denouncing as counter-revolutionist everybody who questioned the wisdom and the revolutionary justification of that agreement. "we could do nothing else," argued the communists. "germany had a mighty army, while we had none. had we refused to sign the brest treaty we should have sealed the fate of the revolution. we realized that brest meant a compromise, but we knew that the workers of russia and the rest of the world would understand that we had been forced to it. our compromise was similar to that of workers when they are forced to accept the conditions of their masters after an unsuccessful strike." but spiridonova was not convinced. "there is not one word of truth in the argument advanced by the bolsheviki," she said. it is true that russia had no disciplined army to meet the german advance, but it had something infinitely more effective: it had a conscious revolutionary people who would have fought back the invaders to the last drop of blood. as a matter of fact, it was the people who had checked all the counter-revolutionary military attempts against russia. who else but the people, the peasants and the workers, made it impossible for the german and austrian army to remain in the ukraine? who defeated denikin and the other counter-revolutionary generals? who triumphed over koltchak and yudenitch? lenin and trotsky claim that it was the red army. but the historic truth was that the voluntary military units of the workers and peasants--the _povstantsi_--in siberia as well as in the south of russia--had borne the brunt of the fighting on every front, the red army usually only completing the victories of the former. trotsky would have it now that the brest treaty had to be accepted, but he himself had at one time refused to sign the treaty and radek, joffe, and other leading communists had also been opposed to it. it is claimed now that they submitted to the shameful terms because they realized the hopelessness of their expectation that the german workers would prevent the junkers from marching against revolutionary russia. but that was not the true reason. it was the whip of the party discipline which lashed trotsky and others into submission. "the trouble with the bolsheviki," continued spiridonova, "is that they have no faith in the masses. they proclaimed themselves a proletarian party, but they refused to trust the workers." it was this lack of faith, maria emphasized, which made the communists bow to german imperialism. and as concerns the revolution itself, it was precisely the brest peace which struck it a fatal blow. aside from the betrayal of finland, white russia, latvia, and the ukraine--which were turned over to the mercy of the german junkers by the brest peace--the peasants saw thousands of their brothers slain, and had to submit to being robbed and plundered. the simple peasant mind could not understand the complete reversal of the former bolshevik slogans of "no indemnity and no annexations." but even the simplest peasant could understand that his toil and his blood were to pay the indemnities imposed by the brest conditions. the peasants grew bitter and antagonistic to the soviet régime. disheartened and discouraged they turned from the revolution. as to the effect of the brest peace upon the german workers, how could they continue in their faith in the russian revolution in view of the fact that the bolsheviki negotiated and accepted the peace terms with the german masters over the heads of the german proletariat? the historic fact remains that the brest peace was the beginning of the end of the russian revolution. no doubt other factors contributed to the debacle, but brest was the most fatal of them. spiridonova asserted that the left socialist revolutionary elements had warned the bolsheviki against that peace and fought it desperately. they refused to accept it even after it had been signed. the presence of mirbach in revolutionary russia they considered an outrage against the revolution, a crying injustice to the heroic russian people who had sacrificed and suffered so much in their struggle against imperialism and capitalism. spiridonova's party decided that mirbach could not be tolerated in russia: mirbach had to go. wholesale arrests and persecutions followed upon the execution of mirbach, the bolsheviki rendering service to the german kaiser. they filled the prisons with the russian revolutionists. in the course of our conversation i suggested that the method of _razverstka_ was probably forced upon the bolsheviki by the refusal of the peasants to feed the city. in the beginning of the revolutionary period, spiridonova explained, so long as the peasant soviets existed, the peasants gave willingly and generously. but when the bolshevik government began to dissolve these soviets and arrested peasant delegates, the peasantry became antagonistic. moreover, they daily witnessed the inefficiency of the communist régime: they saw their products lying at side stations and rotting away, or in possession of speculators on the market. naturally under such conditions they would not continue to give. the fact that the peasants had never refused to contribute supplies to the red army proved that other methods than those used by the bolsheviki could have been employed. the _razverstka_ served only to widen the breach between the village and the city. the bolsheviki resorted to punitive expeditions which became the terror of the country. they left death and ruin wherever they came. the peasants, at last driven to desperation, began to rebel against the communist régime. in various parts of russia, in the south, on the ural, and in siberia, peasants' insurrections have taken place, and everywhere they were being put down by force of arms and with an iron hand. spiridonova did not speak of her own sufferings since she had parted ways with the bolsheviki. but i learned from others that she had been arrested twice and imprisoned for a considerable length of time. even when free she was kept under surveillance, as she had been in the time of the tsar. on several occasions she was tortured by being taken out at night and informed that she was to be shot--a favoured tcheka method. i mentioned the subject to spiridonova. she did not deny the facts, though she was loath to speak of herself. she was entirely absorbed in the fate of the revolution and of her beloved peasantry. she gave no thought to herself, but she was eager to have the world and the international proletariat learn the true condition of affairs in bolshevik russia. of all the opponents of the bolsheviki i had met maria spiridonova impressed me as one of the most sincere, well-poised, and convincing. her heroic past and her refusal to compromise her revolutionary ideas under tsarism as well as under bolshevism were sufficient guarantee of her revolutionary integrity. chapter xvii another visit to peter kropotkin a few days before our expedition started for the ukraine the opportunity presented itself to pay another visit to peter kropotkin. i was delighted at the chance to see the dear old man under more favourable conditions than i had seen him in march. i expected at least that we would not be handicapped by the presence of newspaper men as we were on the previous occasion. on my first visit, in snow-clad march, i arrived at the kropotkin cottage late in the evening. the place looked deserted and desolate. but now it was summer time. the country was fresh and fragrant; the garden at the back of the house, clad in green, smiled cheerfully, the golden rays of the sun spreading warmth and light. peter, who was having his afternoon nap, could not be seen, but sofya grigorievna, his wife, was there to greet us. we had brought some provisions given to sasha kropotkin for her father, and several baskets of things sent by an anarchist group. while we were unpacking those treasures peter alekseyevitch surprised us. he seemed a changed man: the summer had wrought a miracle in him. he appeared healthier, stronger, more alive than when i had last seen him. he immediately took us to the vegetable garden which was almost entirely sofya's own work and served as the main support of the family. peter was very proud of it. "what do you say to this!" he exclaimed; "all sofya's labour. and see this new species of lettuce"--pointing at a huge head. he looked young; he was almost gay, his conversation sparkling. his power of observation, his keen sense of humour and generous humanity were so refreshing, he made one forget the misery of russia, one's own conflicts and doubts, and the cruel reality of life. after dinner we gathered in peter's study--a small room containing an ordinary table for a desk, a narrow cot, a wash-stand, and shelves of books. i could not help making a mental comparison between this simple, cramped study of kropotkin and the gorgeous quarters of radek and zinoviev. peter was interested to know my impressions since he saw me last. i related to him how confused and harassed i was, how everything seemed to crumble beneath my feet. i told him that i had come to doubt almost everything, even the revolution itself. i could not reconcile the ghastly reality with what the revolution had meant to me when i came to russia. were the conditions i found inevitable--the callous indifference to human life, the terrorism, the waste and agony of it all? of course, i knew revolutions could not be made with kid gloves. it is a stern necessity involving violence and destruction, a difficult and terrible process. but what i had found in russia was utterly unlike revolutionary conditions, so fundamentally unlike as to be a caricature. peter listened attentively; then he said: "there is no reason whatever to lose faith. i consider the russian revolution even greater than the french, for it has struck deeper into the soul of russia, into the hearts and minds of the russian people. time alone can demonstrate its full scope and depth. what you see to-day is only the surface, conditions artificially created by a governing class. you see a small political party which by its false theories, blunders, and inefficiency has demonstrated how revolutions must _not_ be made." it was unfortunate--kropotkin continued--that so many of the anarchists in russia and the masses outside of russia had been carried away by the ultra-revolutionary pretenses of the bolsheviki. in the great upheaval it was forgotten that the communists are a political party firmly adhering to the idea of a centralized state, and that as such they were bound to misdirect the course of the revolution. the bolsheviki were the jesuits of the socialist church: they believed in the jesuitic motto that the end justifies the means. their end being political power, they hesitate at nothing. the means, however, have paralysed the energies of the masses and have terrorized the people. yet without the people, without the direct participation of the masses in the reconstruction of the country, nothing essential could be accomplished. the bolsheviki had been carried to the top by the high tide of the revolution. once in power they began to stem the tide. they have been trying to eliminate and suppress the cultural forces of the country not entirely in agreement with their ideas and methods. they destroyed the coöperatives which were of utmost importance to the life of russia, the great link between the country and the city. they created a bureaucracy and officialdom which surpasses even that of the old régime. in the village where he lived, in little dmitrov, there were more bolshevik officials than ever existed there during the reign of the romanovs. all those people were living off the masses. they were parasites on the social body, and dmitrov was only a small example of what was going on throughout russia. it was not the fault of any particular individuals: rather was it the state they had created, which discredits every revolutionary ideal, stifles all initiative, and sets a premium on incompetence and waste. it should also not be forgotten, kropotkin emphasized, that the blockade and the continuous attacks on the revolution by the interventionists had helped to strengthen the power of the communist régime. intervention and blockade were bleeding russia to death, and were preventing the people from understanding the real nature of the bolshevik régime. discussing the activities and rôle of the anarchists in the revolution, kropotkin said: "we anarchists have talked much of revolutions, but few of us have been prepared for the actual work to be done during the process. i have indicated some things in this relation in my 'conquest of bread.' pouget and pataud have also sketched a line of action in their work on 'how to accomplish the social revolution.'" kropotkin thought that the anarchists had not given sufficient consideration to the fundamental elements of the social revolution. the real facts in a revolutionary process do not consist so much in the actual fighting--that is, merely the destructive phase necessary to clear the way for constructive effort. the basic factor in a revolution is the organization of the economic life of the country. the russian revolution had proved conclusively that we must prepare thoroughly for that. everything else is of minor importance. he had come to think that syndicalism was likely to furnish what russia most lacked: the channel through which the industrial and economic reconstruction of the country may flow. he referred to anarcho-syndicalism. that and the coöperatives would save other countries some of the blunders and suffering russia was going through. i left dmitrov much comforted by the warmth and light which the beautiful personality of peter kropotkin radiated; and i was much encouraged by what i had heard from him. i returned to moscow to help with the completion of the preparations for our journey. at last, on july , , our car was coupled to a train bound for the ukraine. chapter xviii en route our train was about to leave moscow when we were surprised by an interesting visitor--krasnoschekov, the president of the far eastern republic, who had recently arrived in the capital from siberia. he had heard of our presence in the city, but for some reason he could not locate us. finally he met alexander berkman who invited him to the museum car. in appearance krasnoschekov had changed tremendously since his chicago days, when, known as tobinson, he was superintendent of the workers' institute in that city. then he was one of the many russian emigrants on the west side, active as organizer and lecturer in the socialist movement. now he looked a different man; his expression stern, the stamp of authority on him, he seemed even to have grown taller. but at heart he remained the same--simple and kind, the tobinson we had known in chicago. we had only a short time at our disposal and our visitor employed it to give us an insight into the conditions in the far east and the local form of government. it consisted of representatives of various political factions and "even anarchists are with us," said krasnoschekov; "thus, for instance, shatov is minister of railways. we are independent in the east and there is free speech. come over and try us, you will find a field for your work." he invited alexander berkman and myself to visit him in chita and we assured him that we hoped to avail ourselves of the invitation at some future time. he seemed to have brought a different atmosphere and we were sorry to part so soon. on the way from petrograd to moscow the expedition had been busy putting its house in order. as already mentioned, the car consisted of six compartments, two of which were converted into a dining room and kitchen. they were of diminutive size, but we managed to make a presentable dining room of one, and the kitchen might have made many a housekeeper envy us. a large russian samovar and all necessary copper and zinc pots and kettles were there, making a very effective appearance. we were especially proud of the decorative curtains on our car windows. the other compartments were used for office and sleeping quarters. i shared mine with our secretary, miss a. t. shakol. besides alexander berkman, appointed by the museum as chairman and general manager, shakol as secretary, and myself as treasurer and housekeeper, the expedition consisted of three other members, including a young communist, a student of the petrograd university. en route we mapped out our plan of work, each member of the expedition being assigned some particular branch of it. i was to gather data in the departments of education and health, the bureaus of social welfare and labour distribution, as well as in the organization known as workers' and peasants' inspection. after the day's work all the members were to meet in the car to consider and classify the material collected during the day. our first stop was kursk. nothing of importance was collected there except a pair of _kandai_ [iron handcuffs] which had been worn by a revolutionist in schlüsselburg. it was donated to us by a chance passer-by who, noticing the inscription on our car, "extraordinary commission of the museum of the revolution," became interested and called to pay us a visit. he proved to be an intellectual, a tolstoian, the manager of a children's colony. he succeeded in maintaining the latter by giving the soviet government a certain amount of labour required of him: three days a week he taught in the soviet schools of kursk. the rest of his time he devoted to his little colony, or the "children's commune," as he affectionately called it. with the help of the children and some adults they raised the vegetables necessary for the support of the colony and made all the repairs of the place. he stated that he had not been directly interfered with by the government, but that his work was considerably handicapped by discrimination against him as a pacifist and tolstoian. he feared that because of it his place could not be continued much longer. there was no trading of any sort in kursk at the time, and one had to depend for supplies on the local authorities. but discrimination and antagonism manifested themselves against independent initiative and effort. the tolstoian, however, was determined to make a fight, spiritually speaking, for the life of his colony. he was planning to go to the centre, to moscow, where he hoped to get support in favour of his commune. the personality of the man, his eagerness to make himself useful, did not correspond with the information i had received from communists about the _intelligentsia_, their indifference and unwillingness to help revolutionary russia. i broached the subject to our visitor. he could only speak of the professional men and women of kursk, his native city, but he assured us that he found most of them, and especially the teachers, eager to coöperate and even self-sacrificing. but they were the most neglected class, living in semi-starvation all the time. like himself, they were exposed to general antagonism, even on the part of the children whose minds had been poisoned by agitation against the _intelligentsia_. kursk is a large industrial centre and i was interested in the fate of the workers there. we learned from our visitor that there had been repeated skirmishes between the workers and the soviet authorities. a short time before our arrival a strike had broken out and soldiers were sent to quell it. the usual arrests followed and many workers were still in the tcheka. this state of affairs, the tolstoian thought, was due to general communist incompetence rather than to any other cause. people were placed in responsible positions not because of their fitness but owing to their party membership. political usefulness was the first consideration and it naturally resulted in general abuse of power and confusion. the communist dogma that the end justifies all means was also doing much harm. it had thrown the door wide open to the worst human passions, and discredited the ideals of the revolution. the tolstoian spoke sadly, as one speaks of a hope cherished and loved, and lost. the next morning our visitor donated to our collection the _kandali_ he had worn for many years in prison. he hoped that we might return by way of kursk so that we could pay a visit to some tolstoian communes in the environs of the city. not far from yasnaya polyana there lived an old peasant friend of tolstoi, he told us. he had much valuable material that he might contribute to the museum. our visitor remained to the moment of our departure; he was starved for intellectual companionship and was loath to see us go. chapter xix in kharkov arriving in kharkov, i visited the anarchist book store, the address of which i had secured in moscow. there i met many friends whom i had known in america. among them were joseph and leah goodman, formerly from detroit; fanny baron, from chicago, and sam fleshin who had worked in the mother earth office in new york, in , before he left for russia. with thousands of other exiles they had all hastened to their native country at the first news of the revolution, and they had been in the thick of it ever since. they would have much to tell me, i thought; they might help me to solve some of the problems that were perplexing me. kharkov lay several miles away from the railroad station, and it would have therefore been impractical to continue living in the car during our stay in the city. the museum credentials would secure quarters for us, but several members of the expedition preferred to stay with their american friends. through the help of one of our comrades, who was commandant of an apartment house, i secured a room. it had been quite warm in moscow, but kharkov proved a veritable furnace, reminding me of new york in july. sanitary and plumbing arrangements had been neglected or destroyed, and water had to be carried from a place several blocks distant up three flights of stairs. still it was a comfort to have a private room. the city was alive. the streets were full of people and they looked better fed and dressed than the population of petrograd and moscow. the women were handsomer than in northern russia; the men of a finer type. it was rather odd to see beautiful women, wearing evening gowns in the daytime, walk about barefoot or clad in wooden sandals without stockings. the coloured kerchiefs most of them had on lent life and colour to the streets, giving them a cheerful appearance which contrasted favourably with the gray tones of petrograd. my first official visit was paid to the department of education. i found a long line of people waiting admission, but the museum credentials immediately opened the doors, the chairman receiving me most cordially. he listened attentively to my explanation of the purposes of the expedition and promised to give me an opportunity to collect all the available material in his department, including the newly prepared charts of its work. on the chairman's desk i noticed a copy of such a chart, looking like a futurist picture, all lined and dotted with red, blue, and purple. noticing my puzzled expression the chairman explained that the red indicated the various phases of the educational system, the other colours representing literature, drama, music, and the plastic arts. each department was subdivided into bureaus embracing every branch of the educational and cultural work of the socialist republic. concerning the system of education the chairman stated that from three to eight years of age the child attended the kindergarten or children's home. war orphans from the south, children of red army soldiers and of proletarians in general received preference. if vacancies remained, children of the bourgeoisie were also accepted. from eight to thirteen the children attended the intermediary schools where they received elementary education which inculcates the general idea of the political and economic structure of r.s.f.s.r. modern methods of instruction by means of technical apparatus, so far as the latter could be secured, had been introduced. the children were taught processes of production as well as natural sciences. the period from twelve to seventeen embraced vocational training. there were also higher institutions of learning for young people who showed special ability and inclination. besides this, summer schools and colonies had been established where instruction was given in the open. all children belonging to the soviet republic were fed, clothed, and housed at the expense of the government. the scheme of education also embraced workers' colleges and evening courses for adults of both sexes. here also everything was supplied to the pupils free, even special rations. for further particulars the chairman referred me to the literature of his department and advised me to study the plan in operation. the educational work was much handicapped by the blockade and counter-revolutionary attempts; else russia would demonstrate to the world what the socialist republic could do in the way of popular enlightenment. they lacked even the most elemental necessaries, such as paper, pencils, and books. in the winter most of the schools had to be closed for lack of fuel. the cruelty and infamy of the blockade was nowhere more apparent and crying than in its effect upon the sick and the children. "it is the blackest crime of the century," the chairman concluded. it was agreed that i return within a week to receive the material for our collection. in the social welfare department i also found a very competent man in charge. he became much interested in the work of the expedition and promised to collect the necessary material for us, though he could not offer very much because his department had but recently been organized. its work was to look after the disabled and sick proletarians and those of old age exempt from labour. they were given certain rations in food and clothing; in case they were employed they received also a certain amount of money, about half of their earnings. besides that the department was supporting living quarters and dining rooms for its charges. in the corridor leading to the various offices of the department there were lines of emaciated and crippled figures, men and women, waiting for their turn to receive aid. they looked like war veterans awaiting their pittance in the form of rations; they reminded me of the decrepit unemployed standing in line in the salvation army quarters in america. one woman in particular attracted my attention. she was angry and excited and she complained loudly. her husband had been dead two days and she was trying to obtain a permit for a coffin. she had been in line ever since but could procure no order. "what am i to do?" she wailed; "i cannot carry him on my own back or bury him without a coffin, and i cannot keep him in my room much longer in this heat." the woman's lament remained unanswered for everyone was absorbed in his own troubles. sick and disabled workers are thrown everywhere on the scrap pile--i thought--but in russia an effort is being made to prevent such cruelty. yet judging from what i saw in kharkov i felt that not much was being accomplished. it was a most depressing picture, that long waiting line. i felt as if it was adding insult to injury. i visited a house where the social derelicts lived. it was fairly well kept, but breathing the spirit of cold institutionalism. it was, of course, better than sleeping in the streets or lying all night in the doorways, as the sick and poor are often compelled to do in capitalist countries, in america, for instance. still it seemed incongruous that something more cheerful and inviting could not be devised in soviet russia for those who had sacrificed their health and had given their labour to the common good. but apparently it was the best that the social welfare department could do in the present condition of russia. in the evening our american friends visited us. each of them had a rich experience of struggle, suffering, and persecution and i was surprised to learn that most of them had also been imprisoned by the bolsheviki. they had endured much for the sake of their ideas and had been hounded by every government of ukraina, there having been fourteen political changes in some parts of the south during the last two years. the communists were no different: they also persecuted the anarchists as well as other revolutionists of the left. still the anarchists continued their work. their faith in the revolution, in spite of all they endured, and even in the face of the worst reaction, was truly sublime. they agreed that the possibilities of the masses during the first months after the october revolution were very great, but expressed the opinion that revolutionary development had been checked, and gradually entirely paralysed, by the deadening effect of the communist state. in the ukraina, they explained, the situation differed from that of russia, because the peasants lived in comparatively better material conditions. they had also retained greater independence and more of a rebellious spirit. for these reasons the bolsheviki had failed to subdue the south. our visitors spoke of makhno as a heroic popular figure, and related his daring exploits and the legends the peasants had woven about his personality. there was considerable difference of opinion, however, among the anarchists concerning the significance of the makhno movement. some regarded it as expressive of anarchism and believed that the anarchists should devote all their energies to it. others held that the _povstantsi_ represented the native rebellious spirit of the southern peasants, but that their movement was not anarchism, though anarchistically tinged. they were not in favour of limiting themselves to that movement; they believed their work should be of a more embracing and universal character. several of our friends took an entirely different position, denying to the makhno movement any anarchistic meaning whatever. most enthusiastic about makhno and emphatic about the anarchist value of that movement was joseph, known as the "emigrant"--the very last man one would have expected to wax warm over a military organization. joseph was as mild and gentle as a girl. in america he had participated in the anarchist and labour movements in a quiet and unassuming manner, and very few knew the true worth of the man. since his return to russia he had been in the thick of the struggle. he had spent much time with makhno and had learned to love and admire him for his revolutionary devotion and courage. joseph related an interesting experience of his first visit to the peasant leader. when he arrived the _povstantsi_ for some reason conceived the notion that he had come to harm their chief. one of makhno's closest friends claimed that joseph, being a jew, must also be an emissary of the bolsheviki sent to kill makhno. when he saw how attached makhno became to joseph, he decided to kill "the jew." fortunately he first warned his leader, whereupon makhno called his men together and addressed them somewhat in this manner: "joseph is a jew and an idealist; he is an anarchist. i consider him my comrade and friend and i shall hold everyone responsible for his safety." idolized by his army, makhno's word was enough: joseph became the trusted friend of the _povstantsi_. they believed in him because their _batka_ [father] had faith in him, and joseph in return became deeply devoted to them. now he insisted that he must return to the rebel camp: they were heroic people, simple, brave, and devoted to the cause of liberty. he was planning to join makhno again. yet i could not free myself of the feeling that if joseph went back i should never see him alive any more. he seemed to me like one of those characters in zola's "germinal" who loves every living thing and yet is able to resort to dynamite for the sake of the striking miners. i expressed the view to my friends that, important as the makhno movement might be, it was of a purely military nature and could not, therefore, be expressive of the anarchist spirit. i was sorry to see joseph return to the makhno camp, for his work for the anarchist movement in russia could be of much greater value. but he was determined, and i felt that it was joseph's despair at the reactionary tendencies of the bolsheviki which drove him, as it did so many others of his comrades, away from the communists and into the ranks of makhno. during our stay in kharkov i also visited the department of labour distribution, which had come into existence since the militarization of labour. according to the bolsheviki it became necessary then to return the workers from the villages to which they had streamed from the starving cities. they had to be registered and classified according to trades and distributed to points where their services were most needed. in the carrying out of this plan many people were daily rounded up on the streets and in the market place. together with the large numbers arrested as speculators or for possession of tsarist money, they were put on the list of the labour distribution department. some were sent to the donetz basin, while the weaker ones went on to concentration camps. the communists justified this system and method as necessary during a revolutionary period in order to build up the industries. everybody must work in russia, they said, or be forced to work. they claimed that the industrial output had increased since the introduction of the compulsory labour law. i had occasion to discuss these matters with many communists and i doubted the efficacy of the new policy. one evening a woman called at my room and introduced herself as the former owner of the apartment. since all the houses had been nationalized she was allowed to keep three rooms, the rest of her apartment having been put in charge of the house bureau. her family consisted of eight members, including her parents and a married daughter with her family. it was almost impossible to crowd all into three rooms, especially considering the terrific heat of the kharkov summer; yet somehow they had managed. but two weeks prior to our arrival in kharkov zinoviev visited the city. at a public meeting he declared that the bourgeoisie of the city looked too well fed and dressed. "it proves," he said, "that the comrades and especially the tcheka are neglecting their duty." no sooner had zinoviev departed than wholesale arrests and night raids began. confiscation became the order of the day. her apartment, the woman related, had also been visited and most of her effects taken away. but worst of all was that the tcheka ordered her to vacate one of the rooms, and now the whole family was crowded into two small rooms. she was much worried lest a member of the tcheka or a red army man be assigned to the vacant room. "we felt much relieved," she said, "when we were informed that someone from america was to occupy this room. we wish you would remain here for a long time." till then i had not come in personal contact with the members of the expropriated bourgeoisie who had actually been made to suffer by the revolution. the few middle-class families i had met lived well, which was a source of surprise to me. thus in petrograd a certain chemist i had become acquainted with in shatov's house lived in a very expensive way. the soviet authorities permitted him to operate his factory, and he supplied the government with chemicals at a cost much less than the government could manufacture them at. he paid his workers comparatively high wages and provided them with rations. on a certain occasion i was invited to dinner by the chemist's family. i found them living in a luxurious apartment containing many valuable objects and art treasures. my hostess, the chemist's wife, was expensively gowned and wore a costly necklace. dinner consisted of several courses and was served in an extravagant manner with exquisite damask linen in abundance. it must have cost several hundred thousand rubles, which in was a small fortune in russia. the astonishing thing to me was that almost everybody in petrograd knew the chemist and was familiar with his mode of life. but i was informed that he was needed by the soviet government and that he was therefore permitted to live as he pleased. once i expressed my surprise to him that the bolsheviki had not confiscated his wealth. he assured me that he was not the only one of the bourgeoisie who had retained his former condition. "the bourgeoisie is by no means dead," he said; "it has only been chloroformed for a while, so to speak, for the painful operation. but it is already recovering from the effect of the anesthetic and soon it will have recuperated entirely. it only needs a little more time." the woman who visited me in the kharkov room had not managed so well as the petrograd chemist. she was a part of the wreckage left by the revolutionary storm that had swept over russia. during my stay in the ukrainian capital i met some interesting people of the professional classes, among them an engineer who had just returned from the donetz basin and a woman employed in a soviet bureau. both were cultured persons and keenly alive to the fate of russia. we discussed the zinoviev visit. they corroborated the story told me before. zinoviev had upbraided his comrades for their laxity toward the bourgeoisie and criticized them for not suppressing trade. immediately upon zinoviev's departure the tcheka began indiscriminate raids, the members of the bourgeoisie losing on that occasion almost the last things they possessed. the most tragic part of it, according to the engineer, was that the workers did not benefit by such raids. no one knew what became of the things confiscated--they just disappeared. both the engineer and the woman soviet employee spoke with much concern about the general disintegration of ideas. the russians once believed, the woman said, that hovels and palaces were equally wrong and should be abolished. it never occurred to them that the purpose of a revolution is merely to cause a transfer of possessions--to put the rich into the hovels and the poor into the palaces. it was not true that the workers have gotten into the palaces. they were only made to believe that that is the function of a revolution. in reality, the masses remained where they had been before. but now they were not alone there: they were in the company of the classes they meant to destroy. the civil engineer had been sent by the soviet government to the donetz basin to build homes for the workers, and i was glad of the opportunity to learn from him about the conditions there. the communist press was publishing glowing accounts about the intensive coal production of the basin, and official calculations claimed that the country would be provided with sufficient coal for the approaching winter. in reality, the donetz mines were in a most deplorable state, the engineer informed me. the miners were herded like cattle. they received abominable rations, were almost barefoot, and were forced to work standing in water up to their ankles. as a result of such conditions very little coal was being produced. "i was one of a committee ordered to investigate the situation and report our findings," said the engineer. "our report is far from favourable. we know that it is dangerous to relate the facts as we found them: it may land us in the tcheka. but we decided that moscow must face the facts. the system of political commissars, general bolshevik inefficiency, and the paralysing effect of the state machinery have made our constructive work in the basin almost impossible. it was a dismal failure." could such a condition of affairs be avoided in a revolutionary period and in a country so little developed industrially as russia? i questioned. the revolution was being attacked by the bourgeoisie within and without; there was compelling need of defence and no energies remained for constructive work. the engineer scorned my viewpoint. the russian bourgeoisie was weak and could offer practically no resistance, he claimed. it was numerically insignificant and it suffered from a sick conscience. there was neither need nor justification for bolshevik terrorism and it was mainly the latter that paralysed the constructive efforts. middle-class intellectuals had been active for many years in the liberal and revolutionary movements of russia, and thus the members of the bourgeoisie had become closer to the masses. when the great day arrived the bourgeoisie, caught unawares, preferred to give up rather than to put up a fight. it was stunned by the revolution more than any other class in russia. it was quite unprepared and has not gotten its bearings even to this day. it was not true, as the bolsheviki claimed, that the russian bourgeoisie was an active menace to the revolution. i had been advised to see the chief of the department of workers' and peasants' inspection, the position being held by a woman, formerly an officer of the tcheka, reputed to be very severe, even cruel, but efficient. she could supply me with much valuable material, i was told, and give me entrance to the prisons and concentration camps. on my visiting the workers' and peasants' inspection offices i found the lady in charge not at all cordial at first. she ignored my credentials, apparently not impressed by zinoviev's signature. presently a man stepped out from an inner office. he proved to be dibenko, a high red army officer, and he informed me that he had heard of me from alexandra kollontay, whom he referred to as his wife. he promised that i should get all available material and asked me to return later in the day. when i called again i found the lady much more amiable and willing to give me information about the activities of her department. it appeared that the latter had been organized to fight growing sabotage and graft. it was part of the duties of the tcheka, but it was found necessary to create the new department for the inspection and correction of abuses. "it is the tribunal to which cases may be appealed," said the woman; "just now, for instance, we are investigating complaints of prisoners who had been wrongly convicted or received excessive sentences." she promised to secure for us permission to inspect the penal institutions and several days later several members of the expedition were given the opportunity. first we visited the main concentration camp of kharkov. we found a number of prisoners working in the yard, digging a new sewer. it was certainly needed, for the whole place was filled with nauseating smells. the prison building was divided into a number of rooms, all of them overcrowded. one of the compartments was called the "speculators' apartment," though almost all its inmates protested against being thus classed. they looked poor and starved, everyone of them anxious to tell us his tale of woe, apparently under the impression that we were official investigators. in one of the corridors we found several communists charged with sabotage. evidently the soviet government did not discriminate in favour of its own people. there were in the camp white officers taken prisoners at the polish front, and scores of peasant men and women held on various charges. they presented a pitiful sight, sitting there on the floor for lack of benches, a pathetic lot, bewildered and unable to grasp the combination of events which had caught them in the net. more than one thousand able-bodied men were locked up in the concentration camp, of no service to the community and requiring numerous officials to guard and attend them. and yet russia was badly in need of labour energy. it seemed to me an impractical waste. later we visited the prison. at the gates an angry mob was gesticulating and shouting. i learned that the weekly parcels brought by relatives of the inmates had that morning been refused acceptance by the prison authorities. some of the people had come for miles and had spent their last ruble for food for their arrested husbands and brothers. they were frantic. our escort, the woman in charge of the bureau, promised to investigate the matter. we made the rounds of the big prison--a depressing sight of human misery and despair. in the solitary were those condemned to death. for days their look haunted me--their eyes full of terror at the torturing uncertainty, fearing to be called at any moment to face death. we had been asked by our kharkov friends to find a certain young woman in the prison. trying to avoid arousing attention we sought her with our eyes in various parts of the institution, till we saw someone answering her description. she was an anarchist, held as a political. the prison conditions were bad, she told us. it had required a protracted hunger strike to compel the authorities to treat the politicals more decently and to keep the doors of those condemned to death open during the day, so that they could receive a little cheer and comfort from the other prisoners. she told of many unjustly arrested and pointed out an old stupid-looking peasant woman locked up in solitary as a makhno spy, a charge obviously due to a misunderstanding. the prison régime was very rigid. among other things, it was forbidden the prisoners to climb up on the windows or to look out into the yard. the story was related to us of a prisoner being shot for once disobeying that rule. he had heard some noise in the street below and, curious to know what was going on, he climbed up on the window sill of his cell. the sentry in the yard gave no warning. he fired, severely wounding the man. many similar stories of severity and abuse we heard from the prisoners. on our way to town i expressed surprise at the conditions that were being tolerated in the prisons. i remarked to our guide that it would cause a serious scandal if the western world were to learn under what conditions prisoners live and how they are treated in socialist russia. nothing could justify such brutality, i thought. but the chairman of the workers' and peasants' inspection remained unmoved. "we are living in a revolutionary period," she replied; "these matters cannot be helped." but she promised to investigate some cases of extreme injustice which we had pointed out to her. i was not convinced that the revolution was responsible for the existing evils. if the revolution really had to support so much brutality and crime, what was the purpose of the revolution, after all? at the end of our first week in kharkov i returned to the department of education where i had been promised material. to my surprise i found that nothing had been prepared. i was informed that the chairman was absent, and again assured that the promised data would be collected and ready before our departure. i was then referred to the man in charge of a certain school experimental department. the chairman had told me that some interesting educational methods were being developed, but i found the manager unintelligent and dull. he could tell me nothing of the new methods, but he was willing to send for one of the instructors to explain things to me. a messenger was dispatched, but he soon returned with the information that the teacher was busy demonstrating to his class and could not come. the manager flew into a rage. "he must come," he shouted; "the bourgeoisie are sabotaging like the other damnable _intelligentsia_. they ought all to be shot. we can do very well without them." he was one of the type of narrow-minded fanatical and persecuting communists who did more harm to the revolution than any counter-revolutionary. during our stay in kharkov we also had time to visit some factories. in a plough manufacturing plant we found a large loft stacked with the finished product. i was surprised that the ploughs were kept in the factory instead of being put to practical use on the farms. "we are awaiting orders from moscow," the manager explained; "it was a rush order and we were threatened with arrest for sabotage in case it should not be ready for shipment within six weeks. that was six months ago, and as you see the ploughs are still here. the peasants need them badly, and we need their bread. but we cannot exchange. we must await orders from moscow." i recalled a remark of zinoviev when on our first meeting he stated that petrograd lacked fuel, notwithstanding the fact that less than a hundred versts from the city there was enough to supply almost half the country. i suggested on that occasion that the workers of petrograd be called upon to get the fuel to the city. zinoviev thought it very naïve. "should we grant such a thing in petrograd," he said, "the same demand would be made in other cities. it would create communal competition which is a bourgeois institution. it would interfere with our plan of nationalized and centralized control." that was the dominating principle, and as a result of it the kharkov workers lacked bread until moscow should give orders to have the ploughs sent to the peasants. the supremacy of the state was the cornerstone of marxism. several days before leaving kharkov i once more visited the board of education and again i failed to find its chairman. to my consternation i was informed that i would receive no material because it had been decided that ukraina was to have its own museum and the chairman had gone to kiev to organize it. i felt indignant at the miserable deception practised upon us by a man in high communist position. surely ukraina had the right to have its own museum, but why this petty fraud which caused the expedition to lose so much valuable time. the sequel to this incident came a few days later when we were surprised by the hasty arrival of our secretary who informed us that we must leave kharkov immediately and as quietly as possible, because the local executive committee of the party had decided to prevent our carrying out statistical material from ukraina. accordingly, we made haste to leave in order to save what we had already collected. we knew the material would be lost if it remained in kharkov and that the plan of an independent ukrainian museum would for many years remain only on paper. before departing we made arrangements for a last conference with our local friends. we felt that we might never see them again. on that occasion the work of the "nabat" federation was discussed in detail. that general anarchist organization of the south had been founded as a result of the experiences of the russian anarchists and the conviction that a unified body was necessary to make their work more effective. they wanted not merely to die but to live for the revolution. it appeared that the anarchists of russia had been divided into several factions, most of them numerically small and of little practical influence upon the progress of events in russia. they had been unable to establish a permanent hold in the ranks of the workers. it was therefore decided to gather all the anarchist elements of the ukraina into one federation and thus be in condition to present a solid front in the struggle not only against invasion and counter-revolution, but also against communist persecution. by means of unified effort the "nabat" was able to cover most of the south and get in close touch with the life of the workers and the peasantry. the frequent changes of government in the ukraina finally drove the anarchists to cover, the relentless persecution of the bolsheviki having depleted their ranks of the most active workers. still the federation had taken root among the people. the little band was in constant danger, but it was energetically continuing its educational and propaganda work. the kharkov anarchists had evidently expected much from our presence in russia. they hoped that alexander berkman and myself would join them in their work. we were already seven months in russia but had as yet taken no direct part in the anarchist movement. i could sense the disappointment and impatience of our comrades. they were eager we should at least inform the european and american anarchists of what was going on in russia, particularly about the ruthless persecution of the left revolutionary elements. well could i understand the attitude of my ukrainian friends. they had suffered much during the last years: they had seen the high hopes of the revolution crushed and russia breaking down beneath the heel of the bolshevik state. yet i could not comply with their wishes. i still had faith in the bolsheviki, in their revolutionary sincerity and integrity. moreover, i felt that as long as russia was being attacked from the outside i could not speak in criticism. i would not add fuel to the fires of counter-revolution. i therefore had to keep silent, and stand by the bolsheviki as the organized defenders of the revolution. but my russian friends scorned this view. i was confounding the communist party with the revolution, they said; they were not the same; on the contrary, they were opposed, even antagonistic. the communist state, according to the "nabat" anarchists, had proven fatal to the revolution. within a few hours before our departure we received the confidential information that makhno had sent a call for alexander berkman and myself to visit him. he wished to place his situation before us, and, through us, before the anarchist movement of the world. he desired to have it widely understood that he was not the bandit, jew-baiter, and counter-revolutionist the bolsheviki had proclaimed him. he was devoted to the revolution and was serving the interests of the people as he conceived them. it was a great temptation to meet the modern stenka rasin, but we were pledged to the museum and could not break faith with the other members of the expedition. chapter xx poltava in the general dislocation of life in russia and the breaking down of her economic machinery the railroad system had suffered most. the subject was discussed in almost every meeting and every soviet paper often wrote about it. between petrograd and moscow, however, the real state of affairs was not so noticeable, though the main stations were always overcrowded and the people waited for days trying to secure places. still, trains between petrograd and moscow ran fairly regularly. if one was fortunate enough to procure the necessary permission to travel, and a ticket, one could manage to make the journey without particular danger to life or limb. but the farther south one went the more apparent became the disorganization. broken cars dotted the landscape, disabled engines lay along the route, and frequently the tracks were torn up. everywhere in the ukraina the stations were filled to suffocation, the people making a wild rush whenever a train was sighted. most of them remained for weeks on the platforms before succeeding in getting into a train. the steps and even the roofs of the cars were crowded by men and women loaded with bundles and bags. at every station there was a savage scramble for a bit of space. soldiers drove the passengers off the steps and the roofs, and often they had to resort to arms. yet so desperate were the people and so determined to get to some place where there was hope of securing a little food, that they seemed indifferent to arrest and risked their lives continuously in this mode of travel. as a result of this situation there were numberless accidents, scores of travellers being often swept to their death by low bridges. these sights had become so common that practically no attention was paid to them. travelling southward and on our return we frequently witnessed these scenes. constantly the _meshotchniki_ [people with bags] mobbed the cars in search of food, or when returning laden with their precious burden of flour and potatoes. day and night the terrible scenes kept repeating themselves at every station. it was becoming a torture to travel in our well-equipped car. it contained only six persons, leaving considerable room for more; yet we were forbidden to share it with others. it was not only because of the danger of infection or of insects but because the museum effects and the material collected would have surely vanished had we allowed strangers on board. we sought to salve our conscience by permitting women and children or cripples to travel on the rear platform of our car, though even that was contrary to orders. another feature which caused us considerable annoyance was the inscription on our car, which read: extraordinary commission of the museum of the revolution. our friends at the museum had assured us that the "title" would help us to secure attention at the stations and would also be effective in getting our car attached to such trains as we needed. but already the first few days proved that the inscription roused popular feeling against us. the name "extraordinary commission" signified to the people the tcheka. they paid no attention to the other words, being terrorized by the first. early in the journey we noticed the sinister looks that met us at the stations and the unwillingness of the people to enter into friendly conversation. presently it dawned on us what was wrong; but it required considerable effort to explain the misunderstanding. once put at his ease, the simple russian opened up his heart to us. a kind word, a solicitous inquiry, a cigarette, changed his attitude. especially when assured that we were not communists and that we had come from america, the people along the route would soften and become more talkative, sometimes even confidential. they were unsophisticated and primitive, often crude. but illiterate and undeveloped as they were, these plain folk were clear about their needs. they were unspoiled and possessed of a deep faith in elementary justice and equality. i was often moved almost to tears by these russian peasant men and women clinging to the steps of the moving train, every moment in danger of their lives, yet remaining good-humoured and indifferent to their miserable condition. they would exchange stories of their lives or sometimes break out in the melodious, sad songs of the south. at the stations, while the train waited for an engine, the peasants would gather into groups, form a large circle, and then someone would begin to play the accordion, the bystanders accompanying with song. it was strange to see these hungry and ragged peasants, huge loads on their backs, standing about entirely forgetful of their environment, pouring their hearts out in folk songs. a peculiar people, these russians, saint and devil in one, manifesting the highest as well as the most brutal impulses, capable of almost anything except sustained effort. i have often wondered whether this lack did not to some extent explain the disorganization of the country and the tragic condition of the revolution. we reached poltava in the morning. the city looked cheerful in the bright sunlight, the streets lined with trees, with little garden patches between them. vegetables in great variety were growing on them, and it was refreshing to note that no fences were about and still the vegetables were safe, which would surely not have been the case in petrograd or moscow. apparently there was not so much hunger in this city as in the north. together with the expedition secretary i visited the government headquarters. instead of the usual _ispolkom_ [executive committee of the soviet] poltava was ruled by a revolutionary committee known as the _revkom_. this indicated that the bolsheviki had not yet had time to organize a soviet in the city. we succeeded in getting the chairman of the _revkom_ interested in the purpose of our journey and he promised to coöperate and to issue an order to the various departments that material be collected and prepared for us. our gracious reception augured good returns. in the bureau for the care of mothers and infants i met two very interesting women--one the daughter of the great russian writer, korolenko, the other the former chairman of the save-the-children society. learning of the purpose of my presence in poltava the women offered their aid and invited me to visit their school and the near-by home of korolenko. the school was located in a small house set deep in a beautiful garden, the place hardly visible from the street. the reception room contained a rich collection of dolls of every variety. there were handsome ukrainian lassies, competing in colourful dress and headgear with their beautiful sisters from the caucasus; dashing cossacks from the don looked proudly at their less graceful brothers from the volga. there were dolls of every description, representing local costumes of almost every part of russia. the collection also contained various toys, the handwork of the villages, and beautiful designs of the _kustarny_ manufacture, representing groups of children in russian and siberian peasant attire. the ladies of the house related the story of the save-the-children society. the organization in existence, for a number of years, was of very limited scope until the february revolution. then new elements, mainly of revolutionary type, joined the society. they strove to extend its work and to provide not only for the physical well-being of the children but also to educate them, teach them to love work and develop their appreciation of beauty. toys and dolls, made chiefly of waste material, were exhibited and the proceeds applied to the needs of the children. after the october revolution, when the bolsheviki possessed themselves of poltava, the society was repeatedly raided and some of the instructors arrested on suspicion that the institution was a counter-revolutionary nest. the small band which remained went on, however, with their efforts on behalf of the children. they succeeded in sending a delegation to lunacharsky to appeal for permission to carry on their work. lunacharsky proved sympathetic, issued the requested document, and even provided them with a letter to the local authorities, pointing out the importance of their labours. but the society continued to be subjected to annoyance and discrimination. to avoid being charged with sabotage the women offered their services to the poltava department of education. there they worked from nine in the morning till three in the afternoon, devoting their leisure time to their school. but the antagonism of the communist authorities was not appeased: the society remained in disfavour. the women pointed out that the soviet government pretended to stand for self-determination and yet every independent effort was being discredited and all initiative discouraged, if not entirely suppressed. not even the ukrainian communists were permitted self-determination. the majority of the chiefs of the departments were moscow appointees, and ukraina was practically deprived of opportunity for independent action. a bitter struggle was going on between the communist party of ukraina and the central authorities in moscow. the policy of the latter was to control everything. the women were devoted to the cause of the children and willing to suffer misunderstanding and even persecution for the sake of their interest in the welfare of their charges. both had understanding for and sympathy with the revolution, though they could not approve of the terroristic methods of the bolsheviki. they were intelligent and cultured people and i felt their home an oasis in the desert of communist thought and feeling. before i left the ladies supplied me with a collection of the children's work and some exquisite colour drawings by miss korolenko, begging me to send the things to america as specimens of their labours. they were very eager to have the american people learn about their society and its efforts. subsequently i had the opportunity of meeting korolenko who was still very feeble from his recent illness. he looked the patriarch, venerable and benign; he quickly warmed one's heart by his melodious voice and the fine face that lit up when he spoke of the people. he referred affectionately to america and his friends there. but the light faded out of his eyes and his voice quivered with grief as he spoke of the great tragedy of russia and the suffering of the people. "you want to know my views on the present situation and my attitude toward the bolsheviki?" he asked. "it would take too long to tell you about it. i am writing to lunacharsky a series of letters for which he had asked and which he promised to publish. the letters deal with this subject. frankly speaking, i do not believe they will ever appear in print, but i shall send you a copy of the letters for the museum as soon as they are complete. there will be six of them. i can give you two right now. briefly, my opinion is summarized in a certain passage in one of these letters. i said there that if the gendarmes of the tsar would have had the power not only to arrest but also to shoot us, the situation would have been like the present one. that is what is happening before my eyes every day. the bolsheviki claim that such methods are inseparable from the revolution. but i cannot agree with them that persecution and constant shooting will serve the interests of the people or of the revolution. it was always my conception that revolution meant the highest expression of humanity and of justice. in russia to-day both are absent. at a time when the fullest expression and coöperation of all intellectual and spiritual forces are necessary to reconstruct the country, a gag has been placed upon the whole people. to dare question the wisdom and efficacy of the so-called dictatorship of the proletariat or of the communist party leaders is considered a crime. we lack the simplest requisites of the real essence of a social revolution, and yet we pretend to have placed ourselves at the head of a world revolution. poor russia will have to pay dearly for this experiment. it may even delay for a long time fundamental changes in other countries. the bourgeoisie will be able to defend its reactionary methods by pointing to what has happened in russia." with heavy heart i took leave of the famous writer, one of the last of the great literary men who had been the conscience and the spiritual voice of intellectual russia. again i felt him uttering the cry of that part of the russian _intelligentsia_ whose sympathies were entirely with the people and whose life and work were inspired only by the love of their country and the interest for its welfare. in the evening i visited a relative of korolenko, a very sympathetic old lady who was the chairman of the poltava political red cross. she told me much about things that korolenko himself was too modest to mention. old and feeble as he was, he was spending most of his time in the tcheka, trying to save the lives of those innocently condemned to death. he frequently wrote letters of appeal to lenin, gorki, and lunacharsky, begging them to intervene to prevent senseless executions. the present chairman of the poltava tcheka was a man relentless and cruel. his sole solution of difficult problems was shooting. the lady smiled sadly when i told her that the man had been very gracious to the members of our expedition. "that was for show," she said, "we know him better. we have daily occasion to see his graciousness from this balcony. here pass the victims taken to slaughter." poltava is famous as a manufacturing centre of peasant handicrafts. beautiful linen, embroidery, laces, and basket work were among the products of the province's industry. i visited the department of social economy, the _sovnarkhoz_, where i learned that those industries were practically suspended. only a small collection remained in the department. "we used to supply the whole world, even america, with our _kustarny_ work," said the woman in charge, who had formerly been the head of the _zemstvo_, which took special pride in fostering those peasant efforts. "our needlework was known all over the country as among the finest specimens of art, but now it has all been destroyed. the peasants have lost their art impulse, they have become brutalized and corrupted." she was bemoaning the loss of peasant art as a mother does that of her child. during our stay in poltava we got in touch with representatives of various other social elements. the reaction of the zionists toward the bolshevik régime was particularly interesting. at first they refused to speak with us, evidently made very cautious by previous experience. it was also the presence of our secretary, a gentile, that aroused their distrust. i arranged to meet some of the zionists alone, and gradually they became more confidential. i had learned in moscow, in connection with the arrest of the zionists there, that the bolsheviki were inclined to consider them counter-revolutionary. but i found the poltava zionists very simple orthodox jews who certainly could not impress any one as conspirators or active enemies. they were passive, though bitter against the bolshevik régime. it was claimed that the bolsheviki made no pogroms and that they do not persecute the jews, they said; but that was true only in a certain sense. there were two kinds of pogroms: the loud, violent ones, and the silent ones. of the two the zionists considered the former preferable. the violent pogrom might last a day or a week; the jews are attacked and robbed, sometimes even murdered; and then it is over. but the silent pogroms continued all the time. they consisted of constant discrimination, persecution, and hounding. the bolsheviki had closed the jewish hospitals and now sick jews were forced to eat _treife_ in the gentile hospitals. the same applied to the jewish children in the bolshevik feeding houses. if a jew and a gentile happened to be arrested on the same charge, it was certain that the gentile would go free while the jew would be sent to prison and sometimes even shot. they were all the time exposed to insult and indignities, not to mention the fact that they were doomed to slow starvation, since all trade had been suppressed. the jews in the ukraina were suffering a continuous silent pogrom. i felt that the zionist criticism of the bolshevik régime was inspired by a narrow religious and nationalistic attitude. they were orthodox jews, mostly tradesmen whom the revolution had deprived of their sphere of activity. nevertheless, their problem was real--the problem of the jew suffocating in the atmosphere of active anti-semitism. in poltava the leading communist and bolshevik officials were gentiles. their dislike of the jews was frank and open. anti-semitism throughout the ukraine was more virulent than even in pre-revolutionary days. after leaving poltava we continued on our journey south, but we did not get farther than fastov owing to the lack of engines. that town, once prosperous, was now impoverished and reduced to less than one third of its former population. almost all activity was at a standstill. we found the market place, in the centre of the town, a most insignificant affair, consisting of a few stalls having small supplies of white flour, sugar, and butter. there were more women about than men, and i was especially struck by the strange expression in their eyes. they did not look you full in the face; they stared past you with a dumb, hunted animal expression. we told the women that we had heard many terrible pogroms had taken place in fastov and we wished to get data on the subject to be sent to america to enlighten the people there on the condition of the ukrainian jews. as the news of our presence spread many women and children surrounded us, all much excited and each trying to tell her story of the horrors of fastov. fearful pogroms, they related, had taken place in that city, the most terrible of them by denikin, in september, . it lasted eight days, during which , persons were killed, while several thousand died as the result of wounds and shock. seven thousand perished from hunger and exposure on the road to kiev, while trying to escape the denikin savages. the greater part of the city had been destroyed or burned; many of the older jews were trapped in the synagogue and there murdered, while others had been driven to the public square where they were slaughtered. not a woman, young or old, that had not been outraged, most of them in the very sight of their fathers, husbands, and brothers. the young girls, some of them mere children, had suffered repeated violation at the hands of the denikin soldiers. i understood the dreadful look in the eyes of the women of fastov. men and women besieged us with appeals to inform their relatives in america about their miserable condition. almost everyone, it seemed, had some kin in that country. they crowded into our car in the evenings, bringing scores of letters to be forwarded to the states. some of the messages bore no addresses, the simple folk thinking the name sufficient. others had not heard from their american kindred during the years of war and revolution but still hoped that they were to be found somewhere across the ocean. it was touching to see the people's deep faith that their relatives in america would save them. every evening our car was filled with the unfortunates of fastov. among them was a particularly interesting visitor, a former attorney, who had repeatedly braved the pogrom makers and saved many jewish lives. he had kept a diary of the pogroms and we spent a whole evening listening to the reading of his manuscript. it was a simple recital of facts and dates, terrible in its unadorned objectivity. it was the soul cry of a people continuously violated and tortured and living in daily fear of new indignities and outrages. only one bright spot there was in the horrible picture: no pogroms had taken place under the bolsheviki. the gratitude of the fastov jews was pathetic. they clung to the communists as to a saving straw. it was encouraging to think that the bolshevik régime was at least free from that worst of all russian curses, pogroms against jews. chapter xxi kiev owing to the many difficulties and delays the journey from fastov to kiev lasted six days and was a continuous nightmare. the railway situation was appalling. at every station scores of freight cars clogged the lines. nor were they loaded with provisions to feed the starving cities; they were densely packed with human cargo among whom the sick were a large percentage. all along the route the waiting rooms and platforms were filled with crowds, bedraggled and dirty. even more ghastly were the scenes at night. everywhere masses of desperate people, shouting and struggling to gain a foothold on the train. they resembled the damned of dante's inferno, their faces ashen gray in the dim light, all frantically fighting for a place. now and then an agonized cry would ring through the night and the already moving train would come to a halt: somebody had been thrown to his death under the wheels. it was a relief to reach kiev. we had expected to find the city almost in ruins, but we were pleasantly disappointed. when we left petrograd the soviet press contained numerous stories of vandalism committed by poles before evacuating kiev. they had almost demolished the famous ancient cathedral in the city, the papers wrote, destroyed the water works and electric stations, and set fire to several parts of the city. tchicherin and lunacharsky issued passionate appeals to the cultured people of the world in protest against such barbarism. the crime of the poles against art was compared with that committed by the germans in rheims, whose celebrated cathedral had been injured by prussian artillery. we were, therefore, much surprised to find kiev in even better condition than petrograd. in fact, the city had suffered very little, considering the numerous changes of government and the accompanying military operations. it is true that some bridges and railroad tracks had been blown up on the outskirts of the city, but kiev itself was almost unharmed. people looked at us in amazement when we made inquiries about the condition of the cathedral: they had not heard the moscow report. unlike our welcome in kharkov and poltava, kiev proved a disappointment. the secretary of the _ispolkom_ was not very amiable and appeared not at all impressed by zinoviev's signature on our credentials. our secretary succeeded in seeing the chairman of the executive committee, but returned very discouraged: that high official was too impatient to listen to her representations. he was busy, he said, and could not be troubled. it was decided that i try my luck as an american, with the result that the chairman finally agreed to give us access to the available material. it was a sad reflection on the irony of life. america was in league with world imperialism to starve and crush russia. yet it was sufficient to mention that one came from america to find the key to everything russian. it was pathetic, and rather distasteful to make use of that key. in kiev antagonism to communism was intense, even the local bolsheviki being bitter against moscow. it was out of the question for anyone coming from "the centre" to secure their coöperation unless armed with state powers. the government employees in soviet institutions took no interest in anything save their rations. bureaucratic indifference and incompetence in ukraina were even worse than in moscow and were augmented by nationalistic resentment against the "russians." it was true also of kharkov and poltava, though in a lesser degree. here the very atmosphere was charged with distrust and hatred of everything muscovite. the deception practised on us by the chairman of the educational department of kharkov was characteristic of the resentment almost every ukrainian official felt toward moscow. the chairman was a ukrainian to the core, but he could not openly ignore our credentials signed by zinoviev and lunacharsky. he promised to aid our efforts but he disliked the idea of petrograd "absorbing" the historic material of the ukraina. in kiev there was no attempt to mask the opposition to moscow. one was made to feel it everywhere. but the moment the magic word "america" was spoken and the people made to understand that one was not a communist, they became interested and courteous, even confidential. the ukrainian communists were also no exception. the information and documents collected in kiev were of the same character as the data gathered in former cities. the system of education, care of the sick, distribution of labour and so forth were similar to the general bolshevik scheme. "we follow the moscow plan," said a ukrainian teacher, "with the only difference that in our schools the ukrainian language is taught together with russian." the people, and especially the children, looked better fed and clad than those of russia proper: food was comparatively more plentiful and cheaper. there were show schools as in petrograd and moscow, and no one apparently realized the corrupting effect of such discrimination upon the teachers as well as the children. the latter looked with envy upon the pupils of the favoured schools and believed that they were only for communist children, which in reality was not the case. the teachers, on the other hand, knowing how little attention was paid to ordinary schools, were negligent in their work. all tried to get a position in the show schools which were enjoying special and varied rations. the chairman of the board of health was an alert and competent man, one of the few officials in kiev who showed interest in the expedition and its work. he devoted much time to explaining to us the methods of his organization and pointing out interesting places to visit and the material which could be collected for the museum. he especially called our attention to the jewish hospital for crippled children. i found the latter in charge of a cultivated and charming man, dr. n----. for twenty years he had been head of the hospital and he took interest as well as pride in showing us about his institution and relating its history. the hospital had formerly been one of the most famous in russia, the pride of the local jews who had built and maintained it. but within recent years its usefulness had become curtailed owing to the frequent changes of government. it had been exposed to persecution and repeated pogroms. jewish patients critically ill were often forced out of their beds to make room for the favourites of this or that régime. the officers of the denikin army were most brutal. they drove the jewish patients out into the street, subjected them to indignities and abuse, and would have killed them had it not been for the intercession of the hospital staff who at the risk of their own lives protected the sick. it was only the fact that the majority of the staff were gentiles that saved the hospital and its inmates. but the shock resulted in numerous deaths and many patients were left with shattered nerves. the doctor also related to me the story of some of the patients, most of them victims of the fastov pogroms. among them were children between the ages of six and eight, gaunt and sickly looking, terror stamped on their faces. they had lost all their kin, in some cases the whole family having been killed before their eyes. these children often waked at night, the physician said, in fright at their horrible dreams. everything possible was being done for them, but so far the unfortunate children had not been freed from the memory of their terrible experiences at fastov. the doctor pointed out a group of young girls between the ages of fourteen and eighteen, the worst victims of the denikin pogrom. all of them had been repeatedly outraged and were in a mutilated state when they came to the hospital; it would take years to restore them to health. the doctor emphasized the fact that no pogroms had taken place during the bolshevik régime. it was a great relief to him and his staff to know that his patients were no longer in such danger. but the hospital had other difficulties. there was the constant interference by political commissars and the daily struggle for supplies. "i spend most of my time in the various bureaus," he said, "instead of devoting myself to my patients. ignorant officials are given power over the medical profession, continuously harassing the doctors in their work." the doctor himself had been repeatedly arrested for sabotage because of his inability to comply with the numerous decrees and orders, frequently mutually contradictory. it was the result of a system in which political usefulness rather than professional merit played the main rôle. it often happened that a first-class physician of well-known repute and long experience would be suddenly ordered to some distant part to place a communist doctor in his position. under such conditions the best efforts were paralysed. moreover, there was the general suspicion of the _intelligentsia_, which was a demoralizing factor. it was true that many of that class had sabotaged, but there were also those who did heroic and self-sacrificing work. the bolsheviki, by their indiscriminate antagonism toward the _intelligentsia_ as a class, roused prejudices and passions which poisoned the mainsprings of the cultural life of the country. the russian _intelligentsia_ had with its very blood fertilized the soil of the revolution, yet it was not given it to reap the fruits of its long struggle. "a tragic fate," the doctor remarked; "unless one forget it in his work, existence would be impossible." the institution for crippled children proved a very model and modern hospital, located in the heart of a large park. it was devoted to the marred creatures with twisted limbs and deformed bodies, victims of the great war, disease, and famine. the children looked aged and withered; like father time, they had been born old. they lay in rows on clean white beds, baking in the warm sun of the ukrainian summer. the head physician, who guided us through the institution, seemed much beloved by his little charges. they were eager and pleased to see him as he approached each helpless child and bent over affectionately to make some inquiries about its health. the hospital had been in existence for many years and was considered the first of its kind in russia. its equipment for the care of deformed and crippled children was among the most modern. "since the war and the revolution we feel rather behind the times," the doctor said; "we have been cut off from the civilized world for so many years. but in spite of the various government changes we have striven to keep up our standards and to help the unfortunate victims of strife and disease." the supplies for the institution were provided by the government and the hospital force was exposed to no interference, though i understood from the doctor that because of his political neutrality he was looked upon by the bolsheviki as inclined to counter-revolution. the hospital contained a large number of children; some of those who could walk about studied music and art, and we had the opportunity of attending an informal concert arranged by the children and their teachers in our honour. some of them played the _balalaika_ in a most artistic manner, and it was consoling to see those marred children finding forgetfulness in the rhythm of the folk melodies of the ukraina. early during our stay in kiev we learned that the most valuable material for the museum was not to be found in the soviet institutions, but that it was in the possession of other political groups and private persons. the best statistical information on pogroms, for instance, was in the hands of a former minister of the rada régime in the ukraina. i succeeded in locating the man and great was my surprise when, upon learning my identity, he presented me with several copies of the _mother earth_ magazine i had published in america. the ex-minister arranged a small gathering to which were invited some writers and poets and men active in the jewish _kulturliga_ to meet several members of our expedition. the gathering consisted of the best elements of the local jewish _intelligentsia_. we discussed the revolution, the bolshevik methods, and the jewish problem. most of those present, though opposed to the communist theories, were in favour of the soviet government. they felt that the bolsheviki, in spite of their many blunders, were striving to further the interests of russia and the revolution. at any rate, under the communist régime the jews were not exposed to the pogroms practised upon them by all the other régimes of ukraina. those jewish intellectuals argued that the bolsheviki at least permitted the jews to live, and that they were therefore to be preferred to any other governments and should be supported by the jews. they were fearful of the growth of anti-semitism in russia and were horrified at the possibility of the bolsheviki being overthrown. wholesale slaughter of the jews would undoubtedly follow, they believed. some of the younger set held a different view. the bolshevik régime had resulted in increased hatred toward the jews, they said, for the masses were under the impression that most of the communists were jews. communism stood for forcible tax-collection, punitive expeditions, and the tcheka. popular opposition to the communists therefore expressed itself in the hatred of the whole jewish race. thus bolshevik tyranny had added fuel to the latent anti-semitism of the ukraina. moreover, to prove that they were not discriminating in favour of the jews, the bolsheviki had gone to the other extreme and frequently arrested and punished jews for things that the gentiles could do with impunity. the bolsheviki also fostered and endowed cultural work in the south in the ukrainian language, while at the same time they discouraged such efforts in the jewish language. it was true that the _kulturliga_ was still permitted to exist, but its work was hampered at every step. in short, the bolsheviki permitted the jews to live, but only in a physical sense. culturally, they were condemned to death. the _yevkom_ (jewish communist section) was receiving, of course, every advantage and support from the government, but then its mission was to carry the gospel of the proletarian dictatorship to the jews of the ukraina. it was significant that the _yevkom_ was more anti-semitic than the ukrainians themselves. if it had the power it would pogrom every non-communist jewish organization and destroy all jewish educational efforts. this young element emphasized that they did not favour the overthrow of the bolshevik government; but they could not support it, either. i felt that both jewish factions took a purely nationalistic view of the russian situation. i could well understand their personal attitude, the result of their own suffering and the persecution of the jewish race. still, my chief concern was the revolution and its effects upon russia _as a whole_. whether the bolsheviki should be supported or not could not depend merely on their attitude to the jews and the jewish question. the latter was surely a very vital and pressing issue, especially in the ukraina; yet the general problem involved was much greater. it embraced the complete economic and social emancipation of the whole people of russia, the jews included. if the bolshevik methods and practices were not imposed upon them by the force of circumstances, if they were conditioned in their own theories and principles, and if their sole object was to secure their own power, i could not support them. they might be innocent of pogroms against the jews, but if they were pogroming the whole of russia then they had failed in their mission as a revolutionary party. i was not prepared to say that i had reached a clear understanding of all the problems involved, but my experience so far led me to think that it was the basic bolshevik conception of the revolution which was false, its practical application necessarily resulting in the great russian catastrophe of which the jewish tragedy was but a minor part. my host and his friends could not agree with my viewpoint: we represented opposite camps. but the gathering was nevertheless intensely interesting and it was arranged that we meet again before our departure from the city. returning to our car one day i saw a detachment of red army soldiers at the railway station. on inquiry i found that foreign delegates were expected from moscow and that the soldiers had been ordered out to participate in a demonstration in their honour. groups of the uniformed men stood about discussing the arrival of the mission. there were many expressions of dissatisfaction because the soldiers had been kept waiting so long. "these people come to russia just to look us over," one of the red army men said; "do they know anything about us or are they interested in how we live? not they. it's a holiday for them. they are dressed up and fed by the government, but they never talk to us and all they see is how we march past. here we have been lying around in the burning sun for hours while the delegates are probably being feasted at some other station. that's comradeship and equality for you!" i had heard such sentiments voiced before, but it was surprising to hear them from soldiers. i thought of angelica balabanova, who was accompanying the italian mission, and i wondered what she would think if she knew how the men felt. it had probably never occurred to her that those "ignorant russian peasants" in military uniform had looked through the sham of official demonstrations. the following day we received an invitation from balabanova to attend a banquet given in honour of the italian delegates. anxious to meet the foreign guests, several members of our expedition accepted the invitation. the affair took place in the former chamber of commerce building, profusely decorated for the occasion. in the main banquet hall long tables were heavily laden with fresh-cut flowers, several varieties of southern fruit, and wine. the sight reminded one of the feasts of the old bourgeoisie, and i could see that angelica felt rather uncomfortable at the lavish display of silverware and wealth. the banquet opened with the usual toasts, the guests drinking to lenin, trotsky, the red army, and the third international, the whole company rising as the revolutionary anthem was intoned after each toast, with the soldiers and officers standing at attention in good old military style. among the delegates were two young french anarcho-syndicalists. they had heard of our presence in kiev and had been looking for us all day without being able to locate us. after the banquet they were immediately to leave for petrograd, so that we had only a short time at our disposal. on our way to the station the delegates related that they had collected much material on the revolution which they intended to publish in france. they had become convinced that all was not well with the bolshevik régime: they had come to realize that the dictatorship of the proletariat was in the exclusive hands of the communist party, while the common worker was enslaved as much as ever. it was their intention, they said, to speak frankly about these matters to their comrades at home and to substantiate their attitude by the material in their possession. "do you expect to get the documents out?" i asked la petit, one of the delegates. "you don't mean that i might be prevented from taking out my own notes," he replied. "the bolsheviki would not dare to go so far--not with foreign delegates, at any rate." he seemed so confident that i did not care to pursue the subject further. that night the delegates left kiev and a short time afterward they departed from russia. they were never seen alive again. without making any comment upon their disappearance i merely want to mention that when i returned to moscow several months later it was generally related that the two anarcho-syndicalists, with several other men who had accompanied them, were overtaken by a storm somewhere off the coast of finland, and were all drowned. there were rumours of foul play, though i am not inclined to credit the story, especially in view of the fact that together with the anarcho-syndicalists also perished a communist in good standing in moscow. but their disappearance with all the documents they had collected has never been satisfactorily explained. the rooms assigned to the members of our expedition were located in a house within a _passage_ leading off the kreschatik, the main street of kiev. it had formerly been the wealthy residential section of the city and its fine houses, though lately neglected, still looked imposing. the _passage_ also contained a number of shops, ruins of former glory, which catered to the well-to-do of the neighbourhood. those stores still had good supplies of vegetables, fruit, milk, and butter. they were owned mostly by old jews whose energies could not be applied to any other usefulness--orthodox jews to whom the revolution and the bolsheviki were a _bête noire_, because that had "ruined all business." the little shops barely enabled their owners to exist; moreover, they were in constant danger of tcheka raids, on which occasions the provisions would be expropriated. the appearance of those stores did not justify the belief that the government would find it worth while raiding them. "would not the tcheka prefer to confiscate the goods of the big delicatessen and fruit stores on the kreschatik?" i asked an old jew storekeeper. "not at all," he replied; "those stores are immune because they pay heavy taxes." the morning following the banquet i went down to the little grocery store i used to do my shopping in. the place was closed, and i was surprised to find that not one of the small shops near by was open. two days later i learned that the places had all been raided on the eve of the banquet in order to feast the foreign delegates. i promised myself never to attend another bolshevik banquet. among the members of the _kulturliga_ i met a man who had lived in america, but for several years now was with his family in kiev. his home proved one of the most hospitable during my stay in the south, and as he had many callers belonging to various social classes i was able to gather much information about the recent history of ukraina. my host was not a communist: though critical of the bolshevik régime, he was by no means antagonistic. he used to say that the main fault of the bolsheviki was their lack of psychological perception. he asserted that no government had ever such a great opportunity in the ukraina as the communists. the people had suffered so much from the various occupations and were so oppressed by every new régime that they rejoiced when the bolsheviki entered kiev. everybody hoped that they would bring relief. but the communists quickly destroyed all illusions. within a few months they proved themselves entirely incapable of administering the affairs of the city; their methods antagonized the people, and the terrorism of the tcheka turned even the friends of the communists to bitter enmity. nobody objected to the nationalization of industry and it was of course expected that the bolsheviki would expropriate. but when the bourgeoisie had been relieved of its possessions it was found that only the raiders benefited. neither the people at large nor even the proletarian class gained anything. precious jewellery, silverware, furs, practically the whole wealth of kiev seemed to disappear and was no more heard of. later members of the tcheka strutted about the streets with their women gowned in the finery of the bourgeoisie. when private business places were closed, the doors were locked and sealed and guards placed there. but within a few weeks the stores were found empty. this kind of "management" and the numerous new laws and edicts, often mutually conflicting, served the tcheka as a pretext to terrorize and mulct the citizens and aroused general hatred against the bolsheviki. the people had turned against petlura, denikin, and the poles. they welcomed the bolsheviki with open arms. but the last disappointed them as the first. "now we have gotten used to the situation," my host said, "we just drift and manage as best we can." but he thought it a pity that the bolsheviki lost such a great chance. they were unable to hold the confidence of the people and to direct that confidence into constructive channels. not only had the bolsheviki failed to operate the big industries: they also destroyed the small _kustarnaya_ work. there had been thousands of artisans in the province of kiev, for instance; most of them had worked by themselves, without exploiting any one. they were independent producers who supplied a certain need of the community. the bolsheviki in their reckless scheme of nationalization suspended those efforts without being able to replace them by aught else. they had nothing to give either to the workers or to the peasants. the city proletariat faced the alternative of starving in the city or going back to the country. they preferred the latter, of course. those who could not get to the country engaged in trade, buying and selling jewellery, for instance. practically everybody in russia had become a tradesman, the bolshevik government no less than private speculators. "you have no idea of the amount of illicit business carried on by officials in soviet institutions," my host informed me; "nor is the army free from it. my nephew, a red army officer, a communist, has just returned from the polish front. he can tell you about these practices in the army." i was particularly eager to talk to the young officer. in my travels i had met many soldiers, and i found that most of them had retained the old slave psychology and bowed absolutely to military discipline. some, however, were very wide awake and could see clearly what was happening about them. a certain small element in the red army was entirely transformed by the revolution. it was proof of the gestation of new life and new forms which set russia apart from the rest of the world, notwithstanding bolshevik tyranny and oppression. for that element the revolution had a deep significance. they saw in it something vital which even the daily decrees could not compress within the narrow communist mould. it was their attitude and general sentiment that the bolsheviki had not kept faith with the people. they saw the communist state growing at the cost of the revolution, and some of them even went so far as to voice the opinion that the bolsheviki had become the enemies of the revolution. but they all felt that for the time being they could do nothing. they were determined to dispose of the foreign enemies first. "then," they would say, "we will face the enemy at home." the red army officer proved a fine-looking young fellow very deeply in earnest. at first he was disinclined to talk, but in the course of the evening he grew less embarrassed and expressed his feelings freely. he had found much corruption at the front, he said. but it was even worse at the base of supplies where he had done duty for some time. the men at the front were practically without clothes or shoes. the food was insufficient and the army was ravaged by typhoid and cholera. yet the spirit of the men was wonderful. they fought bravely, enthusiastically, because they believed in their ideal of a free russia. but while they were fighting and dying for the great cause, the higher officers, the so-called _tovaristchi_, sat in safe retreat and there drank and gambled and got rich by speculation. the supplies so desperately needed at the front were being sold at fabulous prices to speculators. the young officer had become so disheartened by the situation, he had thought of committing suicide. but now he was determined to return to the front. "i shall go back and tell my comrades what i have seen," he said; "our real work will begin when we have defeated foreign invasion. then we shall go after those who are trading away the revolution." i felt there was no cause to despair so long as russia possessed such spirits. i returned to my room to find our secretary waiting to report the valuable find she had made. it consisted of rich denikin material stacked in the city library and apparently forgotten by everybody. the librarian, a zealous ukrainian nationalist, refused to permit the "russian" museum to take the material, though it was of no use to kiev, literally buried in an obscure corner and exposed to danger and ruin. we decided to appeal to the department of education and to apply the "american amulet." it grew to be a standing joke among the members of the expedition to resort to the "amulet" in difficult situations. such matters were always referred to alexander berkman and myself as the "americans." it required considerable persuasion to interest the chairman in the matter. he persisted in refusing till i finally asked him: "are you willing that it become known in america that you prefer to have valuable historical material rot away in kiev rather than give it to the petrograd museum, which is sure to become a world centre for the study of the russian revolution and where ukraina is to have such an important part?" at last the chairman issued the required order and our expedition took possession of the material, to the great elation of our secretary, to whom the museum represented the most important interest in life. in the afternoon of the same day i was visited by a woman anarchist who was accompanied by a young peasant girl, confidentially introduced as the wife of makhno. my heart stood still for a moment: the presence of that girl in kiev meant certain death were she discovered by the bolsheviki. it also involved grave danger to my landlord and his family, for in communist russia harbouring--even if unwittingly--a member of the makhno _povstantsi_ often incurred the worst consequences. i expressed surprise at the young woman's recklessness in thus walking into the very jaws of the enemy. but she explained that makhno was determined to reach us; he would trust no one else with the message, and therefore she had volunteered to come. it was evident that danger had lost all terror for her. "we have been living in constant peril for years," she said simply. divested of her disguise, she revealed much beauty. she was a woman of twenty-five, with a wealth of jet-black hair of striking lustre. "nestor had hoped that you and alexander berkman would manage to come, but he waited in vain," she began. "now he sent me to tell you about the struggle he is waging and he hopes that you will make his purpose known to the world outside." late into the night she related the story of makhno which tallied in all important features with that told us by the two ukrainian visitors in petrograd. she dwelt on the methods employed by the bolsheviki to eliminate makhno and the agreements they had repeatedly made with him, every one of which had been broken by the communists the moment immediate danger from invaders was over. she spoke of the savage persecution of the members of the makhno army and of the numerous attempts of the bolsheviki to trap and kill nestor. that failing, the bolsheviki had murdered his brother and had exterminated her own family, including her father and brother. she praised the revolutionary devotion, the heroism and endurance of the _povstantsi_ in the face of the greatest difficulties, and she entertained us with the legends the peasants had woven about the personality of makhno. thus, for instance, there grew up among the country folk the belief that makhno was invulnerable because he had never been wounded during all the years of warfare, in spite of his practice of always personally leading every charge. she was a good conversationalist, and her tragic story was relieved by bright touches of humour. she told many anecdotes about the exploits of makhno. once he had caused a wedding to be celebrated in a village occupied by the enemy. it was a gala affair, everybody attending. while the people were making merry on the market place and the soldiers were succumbing to the temptation of drink, makhno's men surrounded the village and easily routed the superior forces stationed there. having taken a town it was always makhno's practice to compel the rich peasants, the _kulaki_, to give up their surplus wealth, which was then divided among the poor, makhno keeping a share for his army. then he would call a meeting of the villagers, address them on the purposes of the _povstantsi_ movement, and distribute his literature. late into the night the young woman related the story of makhno and _makhnovstchina_. her voice, held low because of the danger of the situation, was rich and mellow, her eyes shone with the intensity of emotion. "nestor wants you to tell the comrades of america and europe," she concluded, "that he is one of them--an anarchist whose aim is to defend the revolution against all enemies. he is trying to direct the innate rebellious spirit of the ukrainian peasant into organized anarchist channels. he feels that he cannot accomplish it himself without the aid of the anarchists of russia. he himself is entirely occupied with military matters, and he has therefore invited his comrades throughout the country to take charge of the educational work. his ultimate plan is to take possession of a small territory in ukraina and there establish a free commune. meanwhile, he is determined to fight every reactionary force." makhno was very anxious to confer personally with alexander berkman and myself, and he proposed the following plan. he would arrange to take any small town or village between kiev and kharkov where our car might happen to be. it would be carried out without any use of violence, the place being captured by surprise. the stratagem would have the appearance of our having been taken prisoners, and protection would be guaranteed to the other members of the expedition. after our conference we would be given safe conduct to our car. it would at the same time insure us against the bolsheviki, for the whole scheme would be carried out in military manner, similar to a regular makhno raid. the plan promised a very interesting adventure and we were anxious for an opportunity to meet makhno personally. yet we could not expose the other members of the expedition to the risk involved in such an undertaking. we decided not to avail ourselves of the offer, hoping that another occasion might present itself to meet the _povstantsi_ leader. makhno's wife had been a country school teacher; she possessed considerable information and was intensely interested in all cultural problems. she plied me with questions about american women, whether they had really become emancipated and enjoyed equal rights. the young woman had been with makhno and his army for several years, but she could not reconcile herself to the primitive attitude of her people in regard to woman. the ukrainian woman, she said, was considered an object of sex and motherhood only. nestor himself was no exception in this matter. was it different in america? did the american woman believe in free motherhood and was she familiar with the subject of birth control? it was astonishing to hear such questions from a peasant girl. i thought it most remarkable that a woman born and reared so far from the scene of woman's struggle for emancipation should yet be so alive to its problems. i spoke to the girl of the activities of the advanced women of america, of their achievements and of the work yet to be done for woman's emancipation. i mentioned some of the literature dealing with these subjects. she listened eagerly. "i must get hold of something to help our peasant women. they are just beasts of burden," she said. early the next morning we saw her safely out of the house. the same day, while visiting the anarchist club, i witnessed a peculiar sight. the club had recently been reopened after having been raided by the tcheka. the local anarchists met in the club rooms for study and lectures; anarchist literature was also to be had there. while conversing with some friends i noticed a group of prisoners passing on the street below. just as they neared the anarchist headquarters several of them looked up, having evidently noticed the large sign over the club rooms. suddenly they straightened up, took off their caps, bowed, and then passed on. i turned to my friends. "those peasants are probably _makhnovstsi_" they said; "the anarchist headquarters are sacred precincts to them." how exceptional the russian soul, i thought, wondering whether a group of american workers or farmers could be so imbued with an ideal as to express it in the simple and significant way the _makhnovstsi_ did. to the russian his belief is indeed an inspiration. our stay in kiev was rich in varied experiences and impressions. it was a strenuous time during which we met people of different social strata and gathered much valuable information and material. we closed our visit with a short trip on the river dniepr to view some of the old monasteries and cathedrals, among them the celebrated sophievski and vladimir. imposing edifices, which remained intact during all the revolutionary changes, even their inner life continuing as before. in one of the monasteries we enjoyed the hospitality of the sisters who treated us to real russian tea, black bread, and honey. they lived as if nothing had happened in russia since ; it was as if they had passed the last years outside of the world. the monks still continued to show to the curious the sacred caves of the vladimir cathedral and the places where the saints had been walled in, their ossified bodies now on exhibition. visitors were daily taken through the vaults, the accompanying priests pointing out the cells of the celebrated martyrs and reciting the biographies of the most important of the holy family. some of the stories related were wonderful beyond all human credence, breathing holy superstition with every pore. the red army soldiers in our group looked rather dubious at the fantastic tales of the priests. evidently the revolution had influenced their religious spirit and developed a sceptical attitude toward miracle workers. our little polish cousin the little cousin series (trade mark) each volume illustrated with six or more full-page plates in tint. cloth, mo, with decorative cover, per volume, cents list of titles by mary hazelton wade (unless otherwise indicated) =our little african cousin= =our little alaskan cousin= by mary f. nixon-roulet =our little arabian cousin= by blanche mcmanus =our little argentine cousin= by eva canon brooks =our little armenian cousin= =our little australian cousin= by mary f. nixon-roulet =our little belgian cousin= by blanche mcmanus =our little bohemian cousin= by clara v. winlow =our little brazilian cousin= by mary f. nixon-roulet =our little brown cousin= =our little canadian cousin= by elizabeth r. macdonald =our little chinese cousin= by isaac taylor headland =our little cuban cousin= =our little danish cousin= by luna may innes =our little dutch cousin= by blanche mcmanus =our little egyptian cousin= by blanche mcmanus =our little english cousin= by blanche mcmanus =our little eskimo cousin= =our little french cousin= by blanche mcmanus =our little german cousin= =our little grecian cousin= by mary f. nixon-roulet =our little hawaiian cousin= =our little hindu cousin= by blanche mcmanus =our little hungarian cousin= by mary f. nixon-roulet =our little indian cousin= =our little irish cousin= =our little italian cousin= =our little japanese cousin= =our little jewish cousin= =our little korean cousin= by h. lee m. pike =our little mexican cousin= by edward c. butler =our little norwegian cousin= =our little panama cousin= by h. lee m. pike =our little persian cousin= by e. c. shedd =our little philippine cousin= =our little polish cousin= by florence e. mendel =our little porto rican cousin= =our little portuguese cousin= by edith a. sawyer =our little russian cousin= =our little scotch cousin= by blanche mcmanus =our little siamese cousin= =our little spanish cousin= by mary f. nixon-roulet =our little swedish cousin= by claire m. coburn =our little swiss cousin= =our little turkish cousin= l. c. page & company beacon street, boston, mass. [illustration: marya ostrowska] our little polish cousin by florence e. mendel illustrated by harriet o'brien [illustration] boston l. c. page & company _mdccccxii_ _copyright, _ by l. c. page & company (incorporated) _all rights reserved_ first impression, april, _electrotyped and printed by the colonial press c. h. simonds & co., boston, u.s.a._ to my husband edward preface there is no doubt whatever but that every little girl and every little boy has heard of the country of poland, and of its inhabitants the polacks, or poles, as you hear them more often spoken of. but there are countless numbers of these same children, i fear, who have not the slightest idea where poland lies, except in a most vague way; nor how the people live, what they eat, what their pleasures and enjoyments are, and how they dress. of course, you say at once, "why, they eat the same things we do; every one eats meat and vegetables, and drinks milk or coffee," but right there you are mistaken. the nations of other lands do _not_ live as we do, for we are the most extravagant nation in the whole world; indeed, other peoples cannot afford to live like us, for most of them are extremely poor; so poor and ignorant, as applied to polacks, that it would make your heart ache to see them in their homes; they know very little of happiness, and comfort is a thing unknown to them, except for the wealthy, landed class. but these polish peasants never think of complaining of their lot. they accept it as their fate, to which they were born; and, with light hearts, they make the best of their surroundings and their holidays; and i believe they derive more real pleasure from their infrequent play-days than we are able to do every day in our blessed, happy lives. the story of poland, like the story of every other nation, is not dry and dull. it is intensely interesting. it reads like a fairy-tale, and i am certain you will agree with me after you have finished this little volume. i can but hope it will give you a better and clearer understanding of the life of the polacks, not only as to the rich, but to the poor. contents chapter page preface vii i. the origin of poland ii. the arrival at the dwÓr iii. the sending of the oplatki iv. christmas at the dwÓr v. the visit to the gaily painted cottage vi. carnival season vii. the village wedding viii. the orphanage in the woods ix. what happened when the brothers disagreed x. the harvest festival list of illustrations page marya ostrowska _frontispiece_ "henryk leaned down and kissed the hand of the little fellow" "the little ones threw quantities of small coins" "the procession formed, the march begins to the church" "she was bundled into the village cart" "her heart was beating faster and faster" our little polish cousin chapter i the origin of poland we cross the atlantic ocean in one of the great floating palaces which sail from new york; after seven days of good times on board, with not too much sea-sickness, we sight land, the glorious, sunny land of france. we all know and love france, for it has been endeared to us in many ways. lafayette helped us in our time of need long years ago, and the french school-children have given us that token of their esteem, the goddess of liberty, which stands at the entrance of the harbor in new york, a welcome to all the poor, homeless refugees and immigrants who come to this beloved land of ours in search of rest. after passing through the custom-house at havre, and our baggage being examined by the officials in charge, to see that we have brought nothing dutiable into their country, we board the waiting train, and are whirled along by the side of the sparkling river seine, which winds its way lazily among beautiful green fields under the highest state of cultivation, mostly in vegetables, until we reach the charming city of paris. as we may not linger here, much as we should love to, we are off again in the morning. we leave behind us the sunny, fair skies of france and emerge into the peaceful country of germany with its rows upon rows of hops so symmetrically strung upon high poles, and its fertile vegetable gardens, where we see whole families, from the old grandparents, much too old to labor, down to the tiny but sturdy four-year-old, bending over the growing plants, weeding and hoeing and ridding of plant-pests. to see the endless truck gardens, as we pass by in the schnell-zug (express train), one would be justified in believing that the people of europe ate nothing but vegetables. and it is quite true. the masses have little else to feed upon, as meat is a rarity in poor families. even the salaried people are not able to afford that luxury more than once a week, and then it frequently happens that only the head of the house may indulge. as night descends, our train pulls in at the depot at dresden; but this is not poland; a little further, and we find ourselves in the city of cracow, the ancient city of chief krakus, which we find nestled snugly and boldly at the junction of the three powerful countries, russia, austria-hungary and germany. it is here we purpose spending a cycle of months visiting, as cracow is most typically polish, with its surrounding vicinities. what a glorious country we are in! it is true, it is broad, and flat and low, with rugged mountains and rapid rivers separating it, one part from another; nevertheless, it is a wonderful land. at one time it was a large country: now it is divided into three parts, each belonging to a different nation, the russians, the austrians and the germans. the conquering nations have tried very hard to introduce their own customs into this captive land, but the polacks will not accept them. we shall not enter into this phase of the question, but will visit the native as he is and not as the conquerors would have him. it is very much more interesting to know just where the country lies about which we are reading, so we shall first learn where poland lies upon the map of europe. we open our books, and search the map through, but there is no country marked poland. we are grieved to say there is no longer any country by that name; it was not enough to wrest the country asunder, but even its very name must be torn from it; therefore, it is in the southwestern part of russia, the very northeast tip of austria-hungary, and the ragged northeast portion of germany that we must trace the boundaries of poland. from riga on the north to the black sea on the south poland had ample outlets for its great quantities of wheat and sugar which it raised, and which brought enormous wealth into the country. everything must have a beginning, even countries, and poland was no exception. it wasn't like topsy, who wasn't ever born but just "growed;" so here is the story of the birth of poland. once upon a time, oh, very long ago, there lived a king or chief over the lands which lay near the mouth of the danube river. now you all know that the danube rises at the black sea on the west, quite close to the southern border of russia. this chief had three sons, who were great, strong men. at length the king died, leaving his lands and all his wealth to the care of these sons. now, in those far-away days, the tribes who lived thereabouts were very savage; they had no learning or education. all they cared for was to fight, and make conquests of other nations so as to enlarge their own possessions. when the three brothers found themselves left with their father's small domain, they were not satisfied. they could not all rule upon the same throne and be at peace, one with the other. the estate was too small to divide into three separate kingdoms. consequently, they determined to go in search of other lands which would be large enough to satisfy their demands. they set out and journeyed along happily for some time, meeting with many dangers by the way, for the land was full of wild beasts of all sorts, dangerous reptiles and savage men, who were worse, indeed, than all the wild things of the earth. while walking along the highroad, one of the brothers chanced to gaze upward. he saw three eagles high in the air. he thought nothing of this, however, for the air was full of all sorts of birds, large and small. but finally he noticed that the birds were following along with them. at last the brothers began to joke about the incident. "i choose the white bird," said lekh, the eldest. "and i the black one," said russ. "then i must take the only one left," remarked tchekh. and, in this merry manner, they passed the time as they continued their march. at length the travellers came to three roads, diverging like the rays of a fan. one road led to the north, the direction they were then pursuing; another turned to the northeast, and the third to the northwest. "which shall we take?" asked one of them, as they halted their footsteps in order to decide the important question. "i am for going straight on," lekh said. "and i, too," spoke up the other. "there is no use in separating so soon. let us wait a while!" as they were arguing the point back and forth, lekh saw the white eagle, _his_ eagle, winging its way due north. the other two birds were each following the direction of the other two diverging roads. "there goes your bird," lekh said to his brother russ, as he pointed to the black eagle flying toward the right. "mine goes straight onward, and so shall i. as for the rest of you, you may do what you like." "then i shall follow my bird," russ replied. "perhaps it will bring us good luck." so the three brothers bade one another an affectionate farewell and parted. russ followed the black eagle until he came to the present country of russ-ia, which he founded and named. tchekh founded the country of bohemia, the people of which are even to-day known as czechs; as for lekh, he wandered due north until he came to the broad plain where he settled. as his guide had been a white eagle, he thought it but appropriate to make that his emblem; and, in this way, it happened that poland has a white eagle upon its flag. lekh, as i have just said, settled in an immense plain, the polish word for which is "pola." then lekh added his own name to that, making po-lekh, sometimes written lakh, and now we have the word po-lakh, meaning the people of lekh who lived in the plain. chapter ii the arrival at the dwÓr it was snowing fast. the flakes fell in great, thick showers about the occupants of the heavy sleigh, who were fairly covered in a blanket of white, crisp snow. the driver lashed his sturdy, thoroughbred beasts with his long-handled whip, for they were in danger of becoming hopelessly sunk in the heavy drifts which filled the road, and there were yet some miles to go. the sleigh-bells jingled merrily, nevertheless. what cared they whether they were snow-bound or not, so long as they could make their music ring out over the clear, frosty air? it was their purpose in life to chime, and they were doing their best. the harder the horses tugged and the more they floundered about in the great drifts, the more merrily the bells rang out. some one must keep good-natured, and so they took that task upon themselves. happy bells! the horses panted and halted a moment for the much-needed rest. the driver slapped his great arms across his chest to keep the circulation moving; but the occupants in the rear of the sleigh made no motion whatever. for all one could see of them, the sleigh might have been empty except as to fur robes, for not even the tip of a nose was visible. as the driver called out to his team, "gee up," one corner of the fur robe in the rear seat moved, and a little voice piped up: "mother, are we almost there?" "just a little while yet, my dear," the mother replied, as she raised her head from the protecting warmth of the robe and looked about her. "i can see the tall trees of the drive now, just ahead of us. peep your head out, jan, and see if you can catch sight of grandfather's dwór," said mrs. teczynska, as she rearranged the robes so that jan could sit upright. before them, some mile away, lay an immense park enclosed within a high stone fence. the sleigh made headway easier now, for the road about the entrance to the dwór was in better condition than the ordinary public road. soon they passed the stone brama or gateway, sped down the splendid broad driveway lined on both sides with overhanging trees, mounted the rise at the top, and with a whoop and a hurrah, the driver pulled rein at the porch of the dwór or country-home of mr. ostrowski, the father of mrs. teczynska. the tinkle of the sleigh bells had announced the arrival of the guests long before they had reached the porch; and the entire family, big and little, with innumerable servants, were awaiting within the reception-hall to greet the newcomers. the villa was just the hospitable-looking home in which to meet at the christmas season. one knew, from its very appearance, that it sheltered a warm welcome. it was built of stone, was two stories high and had a red-tiled roof; red chimneys dotted it all over; you never did see so many chimneys all on one house before. there was an immense veranda running along the entire front of the house, supported by heavy columns, giving it a most substantial air, the air of a home and not merely an expensive residence. mr. ostrowski assisted his daughter and the little grandson jan to disentangle themselves from the heavy fur robes, and they were hurried into the warm reception-room, where a bright fire was burning on an open hearth. as mrs. teczynska passed through the massive front door, which was opened for her by an elderly, not to say old, man-servant, she greeted him kindly. "and how does henryk find himself?" [illustration: "henryk leaned down and kissed the hand of the little fellow"] the old man, toothless and very infirm, bowed respectfully. "thank you, mlle. martha, i keep very well; but it does my old eyes good to see you once more. how you have grown!" "this is the little jan, henryk," mrs. teczynska said, as she drew her little son toward the old man. henryk leaned down and kissed the hand of the little fellow, and tears dimmed his eyes. he had been an old and trusted servant of the family for many, many years, long before mrs. teczynska had been born, and was now relegated to the position of doorkeeper, being much too infirm for other duties. although it is not necessary to have a man sitting in attendance at the front door, yet it is the polish custom in the upper circles, so as to give employment to as many peasants as possible, and for this service, they receive but a pittance, yet it suffices. it makes the aged feel independent, and that they are not a burden in the already overburdened family. what a happy reunion! such hugging and bustle! all the children of the ostrowski family were once more gathered together under the home-roof for the christmas season, which was now at the beginning. mr. ostrowski, the father, was a tall man of spare build; he had the kind, blue eye of the slav and his heavy head of brown hair was tinged slightly with white. he wore a long coat, quite resembling a dressing-gown, edged with fur about the bottom and along the front, and tied about his waist with a long sash of crimson silk. this was the house costume of mr. ostrowski, who leaned toward the former luxurious style of dress in poland. his wife was a handsome woman, even in her elderly years; her complexion was as fresh and rosy as a young matron's, and her eye as soft a blue as in her younger days. the polish women of culture do not age; they live a life of luxury and ease, and time is gentle with them. but for all their seeming idleness they devote many hours of each day among their poor, and mrs. ostrowska was no exception to this rule. besides the father and mother, there was the younger brother, peter, a tall, manly-looking fellow of about sixteen years, and marya, the young sister, who had just passed her fourteenth birthday. then there was the married sister, mrs. lechowicz, her husband and two sons, francis and frederic, and the oldest brother, jan ostrowski, with his wife and two children, ignace and marcella. you may well believe there was much to tell each other, and a great deal of commotion, for the married children lived in dwórs of their own or in the city, and were separated, not only by distance, but by family cares and business interests, so that it was not more often than at the christmas season they were able to meet. jan teczynski was overwhelmed with so many cousins and aunts and uncles; he was but five years old, and had not made their acquaintance before. he gazed about him in wonderment at all he saw; he could not withdraw his big, blue eyes from the immense boar's head which decorated the chimney-piece, and he asked all sorts of questions concerning it. it amused the older children immensely to hear him ask who had killed it. when told his grandfather had done so, he was very proud to think that _his_ grandfather had been so brave; then he wanted to know if the boar had hurt grandfather with his sharp, curved tusks; but mr. ostrowski laughingly told him he had not been harmed, whereupon jan seemed much relieved. but when he inquired if grandfather was sure the boar had been quite dead before he had cut off its head, the other children burst into roars of merriment. jan didn't think it a matter to laugh over at all, but from that day he regarded his grandfather as one of the bravest men in the whole world. the young folks now made off for sports of their own, while mrs. teczynska, much fatigued after her long and tiresome journey, went at once to her room to rest before luncheon should be served. the maid-servant carried up the valises and bags of mrs. teczynska and set them down in the room that she had occupied from childhood. fresh, hot water being brought by yet another maid, and cool drinking water placed upon the night-stand by the side of the great bed, the servants retired and left mrs. teczynska alone in her old, familiar room. it was a very large room, as are all the rooms in polish homes. the floor was beautifully inlaid in a fancy design with hardwoods of two colors, and polished so highly one had to walk carefully so as not to fall. against one wall stood a magnificent stove of white glazed tile, with a door of shining brass, most exquisitely designed, and which could be closed so tightly that not one bit of dust or ash could penetrate through into the room. the peculiarity of this stove was, that only half of it was in the room; the other half extended into the adjoining room, so that, in this manner, one stove did duty for two rooms, thus saving expense, space and chimneys. it reached, too, quite to the ceiling; but, as the ceiling was low, it was not as tall as many other european stoves. and the bed! it looked quite like any other wooden bed, but what a covering! there were no sheets or blankets such as we have. instead, there was a blue silk comforter of down, so light you would have thought there was nothing in it, daintily tied here and there with little strands of silk. this silk comforter was put over a white linen sheet, much larger every way than the comforter; the edges were then folded over the silk and buttoned to it, the button-holes being worked in the border of the sheet and the buttons placed upon the comforter. at the top, which we usually turn over the blanket, the sheet was shaped like a triangle. in the middle of the point was worked the monogram of the hostess, while the remainder of the space was filled with the most elaborate and exquisite embroidery imaginable, done by the young peasant girls upon the estate. this was not a "company" sheet; no, indeed, not at all; the same kind was used every day in the week and in the year. the pillows, too, were covered with blue silk, and over this was buttoned, just to fit, a handsome pillow-case all inset with lace insertion so that the color of the silk beneath might show through. what a luxurious bed in which to sleep! it certainly was inviting. in one corner of the room stood a small altar to the holy virgin, upon which stood freshly gathered flowers from the greenhouses of the estate, and wax candles were burning. as the majority of the polacks are roman catholics, these altars are found in almost every home, each bedroom having its own altar for its occupant's special devotion. four large windows, opening inwards like double doors, looked over the covered veranda without, toward the fields stretching as far as the eye could see, covered now with their blanket of snow, while further yet lay great forests, the tops of whose trees were barely discernible in the dim distance. just below the windows lay a most magnificent garden, with fountains and bordered walks; but they, too, like everything else, lay under their blanket of winter's white. the ponds beyond, which supplied the estate with fresh fish, were frozen solid, and here the children had gone for an hour's skating in the crisp air, while their childish voices carried up to where mrs. teczynska lay resting upon her couch. chapter iii the sending of the oplatki at the luncheon table there was great excitement. something was astir in the air. "take your time, children," mr. ostrowski said forcibly, as he watched their hurried anxiety. "brother paul will be here shortly; but there is p-l-e-n-t-y of time." "we wish he had come before luncheon," spoke up peter. "it is now almost too late for cousin frederic to receive his oplatki before christmas." "a few hours more or less, my son," mrs. ostrowska answered, "will make very little difference. we could not have brother paul come sooner because we were waiting for your sister to arrive. we all wanted to be together to receive the good brother." turning toward her eldest daughter, mrs. lechowicz, she continued: "brother paul, as well as the priest, has had his hands full this winter. there has been a great deal of sickness among the poor." "it has been so in our part of the country, too," replied the daughter. "it seems to be a bad year all round." "the crops are poor; but we are thankful to say there will be sufficient for our own people. what the rest of poland's poor will do, it is difficult to say. i had planned to take the children to cracow for st. john's night--" "oh, mother," interrupted the young marya, "will you?" "don't interrupt, marya; it is very bad manners. i was going to say," mrs. ostrowska continued, addressing her children, "i had planned to take you to the feast of st. john's night in the city if all went well upon the estate. but i know you would not care to go and enjoy yourselves if there were sickness and distress here at home among our people." "but june is so far away," the young girl pleaded, "there is yet lots of time for a good season." "but illness lingers," the mother added. "i will join you, mother," mrs. teczynska spoke up. "it will not be a long run up and jan would love to see the celebration of the wianki, i am sure." "let us all plan to go," added the younger married daughter. "it would be great fun." "and will you take us?" added a chorus of young voices from around the great table, while expectant faces beamed. "yes, all of you," the elders replied in one voice. "what is it all about, mother?" jan managed to say, after vainly endeavoring for some time to edge in his question. "once every year," mrs. teczynska replied, "in the city of cracow, where we got off the train and took the sleigh to come up here, the people have a holiday. they call it the celebration of the wianki, or wreaths, and it takes place on the twenty-fourth day of june, which is the eve of st. john's night. they have fireworks and all sorts of gayeties." "but what does it all mean?" the child persisted. "well," his mother continued, seeing that the child did not comprehend as the older children did, "many, many years ago there was a good and very wise king in cracow named krakus. he had a most beautiful daughter, wanda, who was so handsome that the fame of her beauty travelled all over the country. princes and noblemen from other lands sent their messengers to ask her hand in marriage; but the princess wanda did not care for any of them. at length, a fierce, determined german prince, named rytyger, fell so madly in love with the princess that he swore he would win her for his own. but the father of the princess had meantime died, leaving her in full possession of the kingdom; and, whether it was really the fair princess rytyger craved, or the kingdom over which she ruled, we may not know for a certainty. however that may be, he sent his messengers to ask her hand in marriage, but the princess wanda promptly refused his offer. as soon as the envoys returned with the refusal, prince rytyger was more determined than ever to possess the polish princess. he wrote her a most impertinent letter, demanding that she become his wife at once or else he would march into her domains and carry her off, whether she were willing or not. the princess wanda read the letter from the haughty german prince. she set her lips hard with firm determination. if _he_ were determined, so was she. without a moment's loss of time, she gathered her army together, marched out of poland and into the country of the german prince. she sent word to him of her arrival, and added that she meant to give battle. the prince was very much surprised at this news, you may be certain; however, there was nothing to do but accept the challenge so long as he had been the one to open the argument. after the battle was finished many of the germans were left upon the field, while wanda returned to her castle-fortress of wawel in cracow. "seeing there was no use to refuse the offers of marriage that were made her, and fearing that other foreign princes might come into her land and wage war against her subjects on her account, she jumped from the top of the great stone wall that surrounded her palace, and fell into the river vistula, which runs at the foot. and ever since, the polish people have commemorated her death by casting wreaths into the river, at about the spot where princess wanda jumped into the waters. this is the meaning of the feast of st. john's eve celebration of the wianki." "i should love to see it," the little fellow said, after a few moments' silence. "will you surely take me?" "yes, indeed, if the other little cousins go," his mother replied. "when i was a little girl, like your aunt marya here," she continued, glancing at her young sister, "i went to the celebration. and you will open your eyes wide, jan, i'll tell you that." "oh, goody, i wish it was the twenty-fourth of june now." "but we have the christmas season now," his grandfather spoke up. "that is much better, for we are all together. we have the fine snow for sleighing and snowballing. we have the ponds to skate upon, and we have--the jaselki." "what's that?" little jan asked. "jan, dear," his mother said, "please do not ask so many questions. let your grandfather finish before you interrupt." "but he says so many things i don't know anything about," the child answered. "that is right, martha," mr. ostrowski said, "let the little chap learn. of course he doesn't know what the jaselki are, for he is too little to know everything. but that is a secret, jan," the grandfather continued, as he shook a gentle finger at the boy. "you will see something wonderful at this christmas season." the maid entered; she said a few words in a low tone to mrs. ostrowska, and left the room. "how we have lingered!" the grandmother said, as she rose from her seat at the table. "brother paul has been waiting some little time. let us all rise to greet him!" as they obeyed, the door at the farther end of the long dining-room opened, and a monk, clad in a long black robe with a girdle of rope about his waist, stood upon the threshold. in his hand he held his black beaver hat, and under his arm was a small package upon which the children kept their eyes assiduously glued. "welcome, brother paul," mr. ostrowski said as he greeted the monk. "the little folks have been in a fever of impatience; you are well come." "i hear the same story in every home," the monk replied, as he turned and smiled at the row of happy faces. "they are all anxious for their oplatki." "let us go into the library," mr. ostrowski said, as he threw open the heavy doors communicating with that room; "the fire burns brightly there, and you must be cold." "it certainly is raw without," the monk replied. "we are to have a long, hard winter, i fear." "we just arrived this morning, brother paul," mrs. teczynska said. "we had a dreadfully cold ride from cracow. i thought little jan's nose would be nipped." "come here, son, and let's see if jack frost got away with any of it," the monk said. the little fellow obeyed with a very serious face. he had quite an awe for the brotherhood; he held up his face for inspection. "i believe it's all there," the brother laughingly said, as he examined the boy's serious face. "but you had a narrow escape." brother paul drew up to the great table in the centre of the room, having sufficiently warmed his numbed hands at the welcome fire. surrounded by the anxious, waiting children he untied the package he had brought. with keen interest they watched the monk draw forth a neat packet which he handed to mr. ostrowski, who untied it. within, lay a quantity of small, round wafers, thin enough to be almost transparent, made from flour and water, upon each of which was impressed a religious picture. upon one was the image of the christ, another bore the resemblance of the manger, or of a saint. "i shall get mine off right away," peter said. "may i?" turning to his father. seeing there was no holding back the children's impetuosity, mrs. ostrowska handed the children some of the oplatki, which they at once proceeded to enclose in letters already waiting. "i hope cousin frederic will get this before christmas day," peter said, "but it is pretty late." the rest of the afternoon was spent in writing letters and sending off the oplatki or christmas cards to such of the relatives as were unable to be present with the family at this season. it is as much an event in polish families to send these cards as it is with us; they bear messages of love and good-will, although they have no verses upon them. the priest of the village has put his blessing upon them, and these blessings go forth to the dear, absent ones. no written sentiment is necessary, for the absent know that the home-folks are thinking of them. it is a beautiful custom, and if it should happen that any of you children should receive an oplatki at the christmas season, you will know what it is meant to convey. perhaps some of you more observant readers have remarked the difference in spelling the name of mr. ostrowski and his wife. while mr. ostrowski's name ends in "i," his wife's name ends with an "a;" this is simply a peculiarity of the polish language, being the masculine and feminine ending of the name. chapter iv christmas at the dwÓr mr. teczynski arrived the day before christmas; business had detained him until then. jan was delighted to see his father again, from whom he had never been separated so long. three weeks seemed a very long time to him. he had had such a glorious time at grandfather's, though, with the new cousins and the uncles and the aunts, he had quite forgotten everybody and everything, except when bedtime came. then he missed his father greatly, for there was no one to tell him his customary stories, and papa teczynski was a famous story-teller. there was no one at home to receive mr. teczynski, except little jan; the entire family had gone to the village to attend service. but then, jan's father did not mind that; he was glad to be alone with his little son for a while; they had so many things to tell each other, and the time passed too rapidly. they did not even notice that the hour was getting late and that the electric lamps were lighted, nor did they hear the return of the others from their devotions. there is no festival in the land of poland which is observed with as much rigor and ceremony as that of the christmas season. almost the entire day is spent in fasting and prayer, after which comes the evening meal. scarcely were the family returned, and the greetings over between them and the new arrival, than dinner was announced. with great ceremony, they formed in line, the father and mother leading the way, and in this most formal manner the family procession passed through the high folding doors opening from the library into the immense dining-hall. there were few occasions during the year when the younger children were allowed the privilege of sitting at the dinner table with their parents; and these occasions were most awe-inspiring to them. but upon this christmas eve there was an atmosphere of reserve and restraint in the attitude of the elders which had its quieting effect upon the younger ones, as they brought up the rear of the line and seated themselves about the great table. at a glance, one could readily see that something was different from the ordinary course of events. the air was heavy with the scene of fresh hay, which lay in a thick padding under the table cloth, and in various parts of the large room. straw was upon the sideboard, straw upon the window-sills, and some was even sprinkled lightly about the highly polished floor, as though dropped carelessly. the usually gorgeously decorated dining-table was now quite devoid of all ornamentation; not even a bouquet of flowers brightened the centre of the board. christmas, for polish families, means fasting and prayer, and not feasting; it is looked upon as a day apart for the observance of religious rites, and to keep before their minds the memory of their christ and his life of self-denial and goodness. there was no gayety in the conversation about the table during the meal; all was as solemn and reserved as though some great sorrow had descended upon the family. in almost absolute silence the various courses were brought in and partaken of. meat was prohibited during this day, but, as if to make up for this deficiency, there were many courses of soups and fish, so that the bill-of-fare was exceedingly lengthy and somewhat tedious. not content with serving one kind of soup, there were as many as three upon this occasion, and it was no uncommon thing to serve several more, in very pretentious homes where the head of the house did not consider it unseemly to waste of his plenty. there was a delicious soup made from almonds, then one called barszcz, which was made of fish, and a third made from the juice of beets, which had been allowed to ferment, giving the soup a very sour taste; and, while neither you nor i may care for this sort of broth, yet the polacks are very fond of it, and have honored it by making it the national soup of the country. the soup course finished, fish is served. there is tench and pike and carp, besides herring and several kinds of smaller fish, mostly from the great ponds just at the back of the manor-house. it might seem a bit monotonous to eat such quantities of fish at one meal, but each was served with a different kind of gravy or sauce, which quite changed the taste of the dish. besides, there were vegetables which accompanied them, each differing from the other with each course: mushrooms, and lettuce and cabbages. plebeian as it may sound to the ears of american children, who are brought up in such a luxuriant manner, the cabbage is a great factor in polish menus; not being confined to the tables of the poor alone, either. salads are now served, with crisp lettuce or water-cress, and a most delicious dish known as "kutia," which is made from oats and honey with poppy seeds added, to give it zest. this is the national dish of the lithuanians, who have annexed their province to that of poland. at last we have arrived at the dessert; but, as puddings and pies are unknown upon the continent, dessert, or "sweets," as the polacks call it, consists of fruit, both uncooked and conserved, and a variety of small cakes, or pirogi which are filled with almond paste, or, sometimes, cheese or other toothsome combinations such as poppy seeds, of which the polacks are very fond. the meal is finished; the hour draws near that marks the close of day. and now, as a last addition to the feast, the oplatki are broken, each with the other, just as we are accustomed to call out in the wee, small hours of the night, "merry christmas," and in this manner do the polacks wish each other all the compliments of the season. mrs. ostrowska arose from the table first; the children knew full well where she was going, and they eagerly hastened for their heavy wraps and fur caps. then the little procession filed down the road to the bottom of the hill, merrily singing carols and christmas hymns, passing from house to house breaking the wafers with the peasants and wishing them all sorts of good things for the coming year. this custom brings master and mistress closer to the tenants, and forms between them a bond of brotherhood. mrs. ostrowska stroked one young girl gently under the chin, as she said: "this will be your last christmas under the home-roof, emilia?" "i hope so," the girl replied blushingly, as she curtsied and kissed the finger-tips of her patroness. "francois and i are to be married at the easter time." "and then the young sister helena will find her young man?" "i hope so," the young girl reiterated. "we shall be on the lookout for some fine fellow for her," mrs. ostrowska said lightly. "there are some very fine young men over to the village at the east of the estate; we must see what we can do," and she moved on, the troop of children at her heels. their round of the village over, the whole party returned to the dwór, where they found a servant carrying away the straw which had adorned the dining-hall. the man stopped as he encountered the mistress of the house, and bowed his head, as if in apology. "our cow was taken ill last night, madame," he explained guiltily. "we thought, perhaps, this might bring her back to health again. we need her milk for the babies. may i?" and he questioned his mistress' face hopefully. "take it and welcome," the latter replied kindly, "and may you realize your hopes." well she knew the superstitions of the peasants in regard to the straw from the christmas table, which was now supposed to be holy. they had been taught from childhood, and for centuries back from one generation to another had the story been handed down, that this straw possessed remarkable virtues and would not only cure illness in cattle but ward off evil spirits from their homes. it is a harmless delusion, and mrs. ostrowska did not interfere in any way with the beliefs of her people. she had even known them to tie the sacred straw about the trunks of the fruit trees, when scale would attack them, and if it chanced that they bore well the following year, they attributed it entirely to the efficacy of the straw. the younger children were now sent off to bed, while the older ones, with their parents, awaited the hour of pasterka, or midnight mass. service over, in the dim light of early morning, the occupants of the manor made their way slowly homewards on foot. they passed groups of peasant girls, shawls over their heads, loitering on their way to their homes. "for what are they waiting, mother?" marya asked, as she noticed that the girls were evidently lingering for an object. "they are waiting to accost the first young man they meet," the mother replied, "in order to learn his name." "but what for?" asked marya a second time. "that is a peasant custom," the mother answered. "whatever name is given her, she believes that that will be the name of the man she is destined to marry with. as the girls do not meet with many strangers outside of their own village, it is quite a certainty that they will eventually happen to wed with the one accosted." "i should like to learn who my future husband will be," the girl said, somewhat in an undertone, scarce daring to voice her wish. "marya!" the mother reproved. "what ideas! there is no harm in a peasant girl stopping a stranger on the road upon christmas eve; but for you to do so would be unpardonable." "but i'm a child, mother, too," she persisted, "just as they are children. i don't see any harm in it. it's all in fun, anyway. please let me," she pleaded, "just this once." "no, marya," the mother replied, in a tone of finality. "but you may draw near so as to listen to the girls as they address this young man who approaches around the turn," and the two moved closer toward the knot of village maidens, tittering and giggling among themselves, as they slowly wended their way along the road, half-lingering so that the eligible might overtake them, as if by accident. "good evening, sir," the eldest of them said, half timidly, almost afraid of her own boldness, for peasant maidens are modest, "and may i know your name?" the young man stopped; he swept his fur cap from his head with a lordly air, and replied: "with pleasure, mademoiselle. thaddeus." the village girls tittered; the young man replaced his cap upon his thick hair, and passed on. the "fun" was over until the next "victim" should appear for the next young lady. every one understands this christmas eve custom, and no one would think, even for one instant, of violating its freedom by forcing attention upon the unescorted young girls. "it wasn't a bit pretty name at all," marya said. "i'm glad _i_ didn't ask him. i should not like to have _my_ husband's name thaddeus." "don't say that, marya," the mother reproved gently, "for you know that one of poland's grandest men was named thaddeus; kosciuszco, i mean." "yes, mother, i know," the young girl answered; nevertheless she knew it was not a name she would choose for her own particular swain were she able to make her choice. however, she wisely said nothing, but walked briskly along by her mother's side, believing that, perhaps, her mother had been quite right in the matter. there was very little sleep, if any, for the family the remainder of the night, or rather, morning. no sooner were they arrived at their home and in their beds, than they were awakened by the shouts of the younger children, who pranced about the house in their night-robes in a most injudicious manner. there was music somewhere; some one was singing the kolendy, or christmas carol. at length the music was discovered to issue from beneath one of the windows in the rear of the house. pressing their faces against the cold panes, the children saw below them a most wonderful sight. a group of men were singing as they accompanied themselves upon various instruments. some of them were clad in long, flowing robes, with hair descending upon their shoulders, who represented characters in the bible, at the time of christ's life; others wore the aspect of birds, all decked out with gay plumage, and yet another man, the one who wore a golden crown upon his white hair, waved aloft a long wand, upon the very top of which rested a golden star which sparkled in the dim light of the frosty morning. [illustration: "the little ones threw quantities of small coins"] as soon as he saw the children at the windows he held out his hands, into which the little ones threw quantities of small coins begged from their elders. with profound thanks the procession moved on, still singing their kolendy, while the children crept back to their beds, but not to sleep. the gwiazda, or "star," had been too much excitement for their little heads, and for full an hour they talked in muffled voices about the wonderful star of bethlehem and the queer antics of the men in the cocks' feathers. christmas day dawned; the fasting and penance were finished; merry-making could begin. but, unlike the little american cousin, the polish cousin does not celebrate christmas day with a tree and gifts and romping. it is for him strictly a religious day; there is no gift-giving, these being reserved for his birthdays, which are made occasions for great festivity. and this custom prevails throughout nearly, if not all, the countries in europe; the birthday is more thought of and celebrated with great gayety than any other holiday in the year. the day wore on quietly. the older folks sat in the library about the roaring fire and chatted or read, while the younger ones spent their time out of doors, snowballing, sledding and skating. after luncheon little jan said: "grandfather, you never told me your secret yet, and christmas day is almost over." "what secret?" asked the grandfather, somewhat astonished. "we know," rang out a small chorus from the older ones. "don't you remember what you told me the day i came? you said i should see something wonderful; you told me the name, but i don't remember, it was such a big one." "oh, yes," mr. ostrowski replied slowly, as he stroked his chin and a merry twinkle came into his eye. "the jaselki. i had quite forgotten." "then we shall not have it," jan said disappointedly. "oh, yes, you shall," his grandfather replied. "it will come just the same. i have already arranged for it. but i wonder what keeps them?" and he pulled out his watch and looked at it. "the snow is very deep, and the roads bad," mrs. ostrowska said, as she looked out of the window toward the avenue of linden trees. "there is no one in sight yet." "maybe they won't come," jan said doubtingly. "they always do," his grandfather replied. "they haven't missed a single year. but it is only three o'clock; there is plenty of time." "will it come by the road?" jan asked. "yes; that is the only way it can come," his grandfather said. "then i shall watch," the child said. "when i see them i shall call you." jan seated himself at the library window so that he might be able to look far down the wide road leading to the entrance of the park. there was silence for a long time. then he suddenly called out: "what will they look like, grandfather?" "they will come in a covered wagon," mr. ostrowski answered. silence again. after some little time, jan called out excitedly: "i see them; they have just come through the brama." such a jumping and scampering as there was then in the great house! there was no holding the children back from running out to the front porch to meet the arrivals. it was indeed a peculiar-looking crowd that made its appearance. a huge wagon, mounted on runners, most gorgeously decorated with tinsel of gold and silver, and covered with strings upon strings of tiny bells, was making its way slowly up the driveway. had it been a little american child who had seen it, he would at once have remarked that it was a circus-wagon. the sleigh bells jingled merrily; and, as the wagon pulled up at the entrance of the manor, the driver smiled pleasantly at the children's welcome. he knew peter and marya well, for he had come every year to their home upon christmas day to present his plays. he nodded to them and wished them a happy christmastide; he bowed respectfully to the other children, with whom he was unacquainted, for he considered all children as his own peculiar property. before the wondering eyes of the excited children, the driver and his assistants set up the show. they watched them, with wide-opened eyes, light the numberless small candles about the stage arch; the gold and silver tinsel now sparkled out like a miniature fairy-land. the old horse would look around every little while, as though trained to do so, to see that everything was being done in an approved manner. this set the strings of bells to vibrating, so that their melody rang out over the snow, attracting the attention of the peasants in the village beyond, who promptly gathered to witness the exhibition. jaselki means a manger; and because these travelling showmen give scenes from the life of christ they are called jaselki, or manger-men. for over an hour the children, not to mention the grown folks, were fascinated by the miracle-play. then, the entertainment over, the men were ushered into the servants' quarters, where they received warm food and drink, after which they packed up their wagon and departed for cracow, where they were to give more representations during the evening upon the rynek, or public square. it is only at christmas that these plays are given; during other seasons of the year these showmen present other sorts of entertainments, so that from one year's end to the other, they travel about in their gorgeously decorated wagons, sometimes on wheels, sometimes on runners, living in the open air, the life of nomads. christmas day is over. night descends and quiet reigns at the dwór. the great house is early wrapped in slumber, and thus ends the holiday season. chapter v the visit to the gaily painted cottage a day or two later, the guests departed, and the ostrowski family took up its daily routine. the boy peter resumed his studies under the care and instruction of his tutor, while the little marya returned to the guidance of her governess, for each child in a wealthy family in poland has his or her own tutor or tutoress. child life in upper circles is quite a thing apart from the lives of the grown-ups. their hours are widely different; they dress simply and live simply, receiving instruction in the arts and languages; the girls to be fine housekeepers and womanly; the boys to be courteous, manly and well versed in those matters which pertain to the care and interest of the estate which is later to devolve upon their shoulders. mrs. ostrowska never breakfasted with her children. she rose about eleven o'clock, had her morning meal in her own rooms, and after tending to her household duties, devoted the better part of the afternoon to the needs of her peasantry. she was a very charitable woman, as are all the upper-class polacks, and devoted many hours among these people. she had sewing classes for the young girls, where they were taught to do, not only the plain sewing necessary for their own use, but embroidery of the most exquisite kind, so that they might employ their idle moments, during the long, cold winter days, in making articles to sell in the cities. furthermore, she established cooking classes; she aided the sick; and doctors being very far away, the mistress of the manor was usually called upon in case of illness among the peasantry; even the children were taught that most useful and beneficial branch of science, first aid to the injured. were it not for the generosity and far-sightedness of the landed proprietors in looking after the interests and education of these peasants, there would be most abject poverty and suffering among them. the ostrowski estate is one of the oldest in poland; it numbers fully four hundred thousand acres; and, in order to grasp the immensity of this, you must know that one ordinary city block measures five acres, so that it would require about six hundred and twenty-five blocks each way to cover this enormous estate. and you may be quite certain, it is no small task to properly look after and make profitable an estate of this size. there is a distillery which distils spirits from the potatoes raised upon one portion of the estate; there is a sugar refinery, which transforms the juicy red beets into snowy white sugar; there are cotton-mills, which are kept going by the thousands of bales of soft, fluffy cotton grown upon the place; there are endless factories and mills of every description, all under the care of the master of the manor. he would much prefer not to add these industries to his business cares, but he is a charitable man; he knows that to every rich man there are thousands of poor. if the beets and the potatoes, the grain and the cotton were allowed to go out in their raw state, for manufacture elsewhere, there would be many workmen thrown out of employment. perhaps these same poor might be compelled to seek their fortunes in our own beloved land, and this would mean the loss of many valuable citizens, who will be wanted some day, to stand up for poland and help her win back her lost liberty. therefore, mr. ostrowski, having a clear head, decided to use his products upon his land, and, in this way, he gave employment to thousands of families, for not only were the men put to work at the heavier tasks, but the women helped out with the spinning and the lighter tasks. the villages attached to the ostrowski estate are model ones. they are naturally situated at great distances apart, each village clustering itself about the particular factory near by. the huts nestle snugly at the foot of the hill upon which stands the dwór, as if they craved protection from their superior. in groups of two and threes they huddle together, these low-roofed, whitewashed, plastered houses, a door in the centre, a window at either side affording scant light to the two rooms within. the european peasants seem greatly to object to admitting light into their home; perhaps it is but the lingering custom of barbaric days when man feared to present an entrance into his sacred precincts to a possible enemy; perhaps it is but the relic of an ancient law, but recently repealed in france, that every opening, be it door or window, giving upon the street or road, is taxed; and if there is one bugbear in the vocabulary of the peasant, it is "taxes." a bit of a garden lies in front of each home, while at the rear is the truck garden, where enough vegetables are raised to last during the winter season. some of the more prosperous tenants possess a cow, or a pig, or perhaps even a goose; nevertheless, whatever the size of the family, brute and otherwise, they all live in harmony and happiness together in the two low-ceiled rooms. the roof of thatch, covered with its thick coating of mud, moss-grown, tones the scene to one of great picturesqueness, as seen from the distance. toward one of these huts mrs. ostrowska bent her steps this bright, sunny morning in early january. it was much like all the other huts in the village, but infinitely gayer. over the doors and windows were broad bands of red and blue and yellow painted with a rude hand, with dabs of triangles and other geometrical forms. there were all sorts of attempts at decoration. mrs. ostrowska smiled as she viewed the fresh colors, and knocked loudly at the heavy wooden door. it was opened by an elderly woman, whose gray hair fell carelessly from its loose coil upon her head. she was greatly surprised to see the mistress of the manor, but motioned her graciously to enter. "good morning," mrs. ostrowska said, as she stepped into the smoky atmosphere of the room, "and how do you find yourself this morning, mrs. gadenz?" "oh, very well, thank you, madame, except that the little henryk is not so well; his cough is worse." "i must have the doctor look after him when he makes his rounds," the mistress answered. then she added, "i see by the decorations upon your home that helena is to be allowed to receive visits from the young men. any prospects of a husband yet?" "no," the woman replied. "thad put the colors on just before christmas, so there hasn't been much time for the young men to know that helena is old enough to have callers. now that emilia is to be married at the easter time, we thought it better to get her sister started." "she isn't fifteen yet, is she?" "no," answered the peasant, "but then there are so many of us we must not keep them all at home. some must make way for the younger ones. _i_ did it, and my daughters must do so, too." "you were married very young, were you not?" mrs. ostrowska asked kindly, not meaning to be inquisitive, but mrs. gadenz was a comparative stranger upon the estate; that is, she was not born there, as so many of the other peasants had been; she had come with her husband and small children from other parts to find work in the distillery of mr. ostrowski. "at thirteen," the peasant woman replied proudly. she was now in her thirty-eighth year, although she appeared much older; taking up her wifely burdens at such a tender age, so common to the peasants of poland, had made her seem much older. but despite her faded cheeks and hair fast turning gray, she was strong and active, and the fire of the slav still shone in her eye. the three or four younger children, ranging from ten to three, were playing upon the floor, tumbling one another about over the cat and her kittens, and frolicking with the shaggy-coated dog, who was monopolizing the warmest corner of the great stove. "be quiet, children," the mother spoke sharply, as she reproved the boisterous youngsters. "don't you know that the lady of the manor is here?" "let them play," the lady interposed, "they get but little of it, at best." meanwhile, emilia had left her duty of stirring the porridge on the great plaster stove and withdrawn into the only other room. in a moment she returned, followed by the younger sister, who approached the mistress of the dwór and respectfully kissed her hand. "i wish to be the first to congratulate you," the great lady said, "upon being out in the world now. you are, indeed, growing to be quite a young lady. not yet fifteen, and waiting for a lover. i want you to come up to the manor thursday afternoon with emilia. i have some sewing for you, and perhaps we shall be able to fill out that linen chest so that you may find a most superior husband." the young girl blushed and thanked her benefactress kindly, promising to be on hand promptly. then she retired to the next room to finish her tasks there. "i'm glad to see you so housewifely," mrs. ostrowska said, as she watched the young emilia move about the room, stirring the great pot of porridge one moment, while in the next she was tending to the little wants of the younger ones. "jan will have need of a good cook." emilia blushed deeply and her face brightened up; into her soft blue eyes came a look of tenderness, for was she not thinking of her own dear one, beloved jan, to whom she was to be married at the easter-tide? and these latter days she was indeed busy with the last preparations; there was much left to do, for she herself was to make the wedding gown. "you will be glad to have your own little home, emilia?" the lady queried kindly. "yes," came the quick reply. "there are so many of us, and the house is very crowded. it will be far better when i have a home of my own." emilia set the iron pot on the back of the stove, where its contents might keep warm until the visitor had departed, when the children might then have their midday meal. she turned to still the whimpering of the little child in the far corner, stretched upon the straw, the child with the cough. "you are nearly ready for the wedding day?" continued the interlocutor of the young girl, as the latter stooped to pick up the child and hold him in her lap. "almost. there is yet the wedding gown to make, besides some small household things not quite ready. oh, how i wish the day would hasten!" she added, with a long-drawn sigh, drawing the young child's fair head closer to her breast and pressing a warm, tender kiss upon the glossy curls. mrs. ostrowska could understand why. she regarded the young girl carefully. she knew that the poor have very few pleasures, that the older must always care for the younger, and that young girls crave merriment and company. with a house full of young children, the mother away all day in the mills or the fields, it devolved upon her, the eldest, to manage the little household, to hush the sobs of the offended baby, or bind up a hurt finger; she it was who prepared the meals for the many mouths, who washed the few necessary articles of apparel, and the common every-day round of family cares was distasteful to her simply because she had no recreations interspersed among them, for we all know the old adage, "all work and no play makes jack a dull boy." mrs. ostrowska understood very well the wants of her people; it was for this reason she came among them every day; seeing an opportunity here to lighten the burden of one young girl, or helping a talented young boy to gain instruction in the art or trade that appealed to him. she was attempting to teach her peasantry that each one should be given the chance for which he so longed; and that he should not be brought up to follow such and such a calling simply because his father had followed the same calling from boyhood, which he, in turn, had followed after his father. the elder peasants sometimes resented this interference in their family affairs, as they were sometimes wont to call it, in moments of peevishness, but mrs. ostrowska did her good work quietly and unostentatiously; she helped the marriageable girls fill their linen chests, which somewhat ameliorated the feelings of the elders toward her, for it meant a saving of much expense to them; she introduced social etiquette in her sewing circles on friday mornings; she taught the valuable science of aiding the sick and injured so that there should be less illness among the poor; for rather than spend their hard-earned pence for medical services they will suffer uncomplainingly. furthermore, she was slowly making progress in instilling into them the need and benefits of sanitation in their homes. every week mr. ostrowski made the rounds of his estate on horseback, to inspect the cottages which he took such pride in; he argued with the tenants to compel them to maintain these homes in cleanliness; for it is a difficult matter to keep things ship-shape when a dozen or more often occupy two or three rooms, to make no mention of the four-footed occupants, or the feathered tribe. "i want you to come up to the dwór thursday afternoon with helena," mrs. ostrowska said, after a long silence. "you can begin your gown then, and you two sisters can work together." "i should love to," the young girl replied, as her face brightened. she was glad of the opportunity to get away from the confinement of the hut and the household duties for a short time, and this meant an afternoon of extreme pleasure for her. all the peasant girls loved to be invited to the manor, for a cup of warm, delicious tea served with lemon, and pirogi, those most delectable cakes filled with almond meal which were such luxuries to them, awaited them. "i have a woman coming from cracow," mrs. ostrowska continued, as she rose to leave, "who is bringing some very pretty little trinkets from the city. i should like to have you there to make a selection of such as you would care to have." "you are more than kind," the girl replied, in a low voice. "you are always thinking of our pleasure and happiness." "that is my duty," the older woman answered; "you are all my children, and i must give you as much happiness as i can, for some day you will be beyond my care and protection, and will have no one but your jan to look after you." again the girl blushed a deep red, and the tender look returned to her soft eyes at the mention of her fiancé. she escorted her patroness to the door of the cottage and closed it after her. then she resumed her tasks about the kitchen, giving the little ones their meal of barszcz and a slice cut from a cake of cabbage which had been pressed into a solid loaf. mrs. ostrowska was glad to be in the clear, crisp air once more, after the stifling atmosphere of the cottage, for her peasants were slow to learn the value of ventilation. as she continued her way down the road toward the manor-house, she thought of her "young people," as she called them fondly, for she took a personal interest in each of them, whether large or small, girl or boy. she reviewed their lives, as they live them from one generation to the other. how they roll and toss upon the floor of their cabins or upon the greensward, in unconscious bliss of childhood. how they attain the age of youth when they must begin to help share the burdens of the elders either in the fields or the mills, if they be boys, or in spinning and caring for the helpless ones at home, if they be girls. how they grow up to manhood and womanhood with very little time for pleasures and holidays, for all hands must take hold that the weight may not fall upon one. how finally, the young girls attain the age of fifteen or more, when they are allowed to consider the question of marriage. then comes to them courters, and love enters into their lives, to brighten the eye and redden the cheek. they live for months and months upon the delights they will experience in attending church, the wedding procession, and the carrying-off of the bride; then the settling down in their own nests. after that, they are no longer helpers in the household, they are the mainstays of their own homes, and they realize then what it really means to be home-makers. they take up their cares and their duties; they arise early, but then, they have always been used to that; they must spin and knit, and sew and darn, and there are no other fingers to help them. for many years they must do all, until the little fingers are big enough and strong enough to aid. sometimes, they must go out into the forest and gather fagots for their fires so that the little one may not suffer from the chill; they must learn the wonderful art of making a few pence do duty of many. and year by year passes; they see their daughters grow up to that age when they, in turn, must leave their homes for homes of their own; they see their sons going away to the army or to other lands, perhaps, to seek their fortunes; and thus, from generation to generation, they continue in this routine, living in memory, throughout those days when their lives are filled with busy cares, that day, so long ago, when they drove to the village church, the bridal veil falling about their slender shoulders, the wedding supper and the gay dance, and the clamor of voices as they rolled away with their loved ones in the village cart for the honeymoon. and all the burdens of their lives, all the toil, all the care and the endless sameness are more than compensated for by that one glorious day of their existence--their wedding day. mrs. ostrowska planned and planned how she could educate these peasants in such wise as to fit them for more than mere care-takers; that they might learn a little of the refinements of life, and that, by education, they might gradually raise themselves to a higher and better plane. her work was slow, but she felt that already she could see signs of having accomplished something material of betterment in their lives. chapter vi carnival season january has passed, and february is ushered in with the feast of the candles, or candlemas day, which takes place upon the second day of the month. this is one of the most devout religious celebrations in the land, for the peasants believe, were they to forget this ceremony even once, that their villages would be devastated by the wolves which prowl about over the plains in search of food when the ground is covered thick with snow, and it is difficult for them to find sustenance. long years before, the villages were not as frequent, nor as well protected as they now are; therefore, it did happen that the wild beasts would descend in droves upon the homes of these poor people, who were powerless to drive them away. sometimes, these voracious animals would even carry off the peasants' children before their very eyes. consequently, as the peasants were unable to cope with the enemy, they must seek assistance somewhere, and where more naturally than of their patron saint? this chanced to be the good st. michael; but even he was at times without sufficient power to repel the advances of these beasts. therefore, with one accord, the villagers banded together and made a vow to offer up their prayers to the virgin mother. they pleaded with her, on bended knees, in the village church, to ward off this dread enemy and to send them protection. whether the prayer was effective or not is a question. but the story goes that the holy mother seized a lighted candle in her hand, and holding it in such a manner as to send the bright flame in the faces of the animals that preyed at the very borders of the village, so frightened them that they turned tail and fled, leaving the peasants in peace and security, for wild beasts do not take kindly to fire. it was because they were so miraculously saved from this dreadful menace that the people thenceforth celebrated the day each year, which is known as the gromnice. and to-day, when they hear the familiar voices of their tormentor in the far distance of the woods, they mutter in their half-waking sleep, "in thy care, o mary," and they leave the rest of the responsibility to their intercessor. [illustration: "the procession formed, the march begins to the church"] early in the morning of the second of february, the peasants begin to congregate in the village square, which is the usual meeting place on all occasions of public demonstration. each one, whether he be an old, bowed man or a tiny tot just able to stand, holds in his hand a candle, whose light falls upon his face all lit up with religious fervor. the procession formed, the march begins to the church, the oldest leading. it is not the custom of european churches to provide pews for the worshippers; consequently, unless one is able to afford the luxury of a low-seated chair upon which to kneel, for the chairs are never used to sit upon, he must content himself with kneeling upon the hard, cold stone floor. it is truly an imposing sight to see the tall aisle of the church lighted by the flicker of hundreds of candles, the peasants, in their vari-colored garments, kneeling devoutly upon the floor, heads bowed. it is very real to them, this service for their deliverance from the fangs of the wolf; and so strong is their faith that they even place the blessed candles, after the ceremony is finished, safely away in some treasured chest or upon their own private altar, that they may serve them in time of sickness, trouble or any calamity. but woe betide the one whose candle blows out! evil is certain to follow in his footsteps; from that moment, he believes himself a doomed man. should it prove to be the candle of a young girl, perhaps one upon the verge of her wedding day, it would instantly throw her into hysterics, for she would know to a certainty that she will never get a husband. and what a disgrace she would be in the eyes of the whole village! a girl without a husband, an "old maid," as commonly known in our parlance, would be an unpardonable offence to the relatives, who would look askance at her, so strongly is the idea of marriage imparted to them. it is quite as much of a disgrace for a woman to remain unmarried, among the polish peasantry, as it is for a man to have no home of his own. when a polish peasant dies, he usually leaves behind him a small bit of ground, upon which stands his cottage with its tiny garden-space. this is partitioned equally among the man's children, be they many or few. but all men are not fortunate. it sometimes happens that illness will rob a man of his little he has saved during his years of toil, or careless habits, perhaps, will dwindle his patrimony to almost nothing, so that when at last he leaves this world, he has nothing which may be divided among his children. but the peasants do not take these matters into consideration at all. they have one code and they can see no other way of looking at things. if a child has been willed no patrimony, then he must get one of his own, for he is looked down upon as thoroughly worthless who is compelled to find lodgings in the home of a stranger. these men are known as kormorniki, from the word komora, meaning room. in poland a kormorniki has about the same reputation among his companions as a tramp has among respectable people in america. after candlemas day comes the carnival week, which is the week, as you all know, preceding lent. as a final respite before the forty days of fasting and prayer which will follow so soon, the people allow themselves all sorts of liberties and gayeties. balls are given, "hunts" are on, and joy reigns supreme, not only in the city, but in the remote country places. again the manor-house is alive with brilliant lights and many faces. the owners of adjoining estates, with their wives and grown-up sons and daughters, friends of the family, from quite remote parts even, are gathered together for one week of holidays. it is a pleasure to see such wit and beauty gathered together under one roof; for polish women are almost all handsome, with their soft eyes, their beautiful complexions and their glossy, dark hair. their manners are a marvel, and their bearing graceful and easy. they are capital company and well informed on all the topics of the day, so that conversation never lags, nor are they obliged to fall back upon the inevitable "cards" for amusement. with them the art of conversation has not died out, nor the art of entertaining. the snow lay thick upon the ground; the branches of the tall fir trees were clothed in a heavy coating of whiteness. the sky overhead was a dull, leaden color; but the guests at the manor-house were pleased with the wintry conditions, for it but aided them in the "hunt" that was "on" that morning. breakfast finished, a hearty affair of meat, cheese and beverages of various sorts, the sleighs drew up to the portico with boisterous jangling of sleigh-bells and champing of horses' bits; the thoroughbred animals pawing in impatience to be off in the crisp, frosty air. gay with red tassels, which swept the front dash of the heavy sleighs, and joyful with the chime of the tiny bells, the party drove off to the neighboring woods, where lay, in unconscious innocence of their fate, the fleet deer. the chill of the winter's morning did not affect the spirits of the party in any degree, for they were all snugly wrapped in thick fur robes, and large fur caps completely swathed their heads, so that nothing visible remained of them but their vivacious eyes and their ruddy noses. along the broad road the sleighs sped, in single file, past the peasant village around the bend of the hill, and off toward the forest stretching miles ahead of them, the tall tops of the trees nodding a "good morning" to them as they approached. among the firs and oaks the sleighs were soon lost to sight, winding in and out among the dark trees until the wagon-road came abruptly to an end and only a path stretched in front. it was but the work of a few moments to clear a considerable circle, and light the huge bonfire around which every one gathered, stretching out their half-benumbed hands. such a chattering and rumpus! instead of grown-ups, you might have imagined them to be a bunch of school-children just out for recess. but polish aristocracy understand how to enjoy themselves under all conditions. not long did they tarry about the camp-fire. it was not for this they had taken the long, chilly drive. gathering together their equipment, and shouldering their guns, off they tramped through the heavy underbrush; only a few of the more delicate ladies remained by the warmth of the cheery flame. slowly, slowly they made their way cautiously, until they came within sight of the tiny tracks, for the freshly fallen snow was a sorry telltale for the "game." shivering, but happy under their load of game, the party returned a couple of hours later, to find everything prepared for the ensuing meal. the great iron pot hung steaming over the glowing coals, the aroma of something therein greeting their nostrils with delight. for all were famished and in good mood to enjoy a camp dinner. it seemed but a matter of a few minutes before the cook and his assistants had the game ready for the steaming sauce which awaited it in the iron pot; and while the company regaled themselves with jokes and talk of the day's sport, the sauce bubbled and boiled, but tantalizing the group about the fire. however, all things come to those who wait, and it really was not such a great wait before they were all "falling-to" with keen appetites. the cuisine was excellent, and the gamey meat had a relish all its own. but now the party must hasten home. too long have they lingered among the pine trees, and much longer yet could they tarry, were there not other arrangements for the evening. but dinner was awaiting them at the dwór; and at nine o'clock, as the dining-hall filled with the gay company, in evening dress, you scarce would have recognized them as the same persons who had gathered about the camp-fire among the pine trees but a few hours previously. there is always time for everything in poland, for the rich. the dinner lengthened itself out until well toward eleven o'clock. then came the "grand ball," for this is ash wednesday, the last day of gayety before the lenten season begins. what a delight it is to watch the polish men and women dance! it comes naturally to them, and i really believe they would much prefer dancing to any other occupation. while the manor-folks confine themselves to the more conventional forms of the dance, down in the village the peasants dance to the wild mazurkas and sing weird folk-songs. but in hut or mansion, there is gayety abroad this last night of freedom; a short hour, and then, lent, fasting, prayer for forty days, observed in most rigorous manner. forty days, nearly six weeks, pass after all, and before the lenten days are two-thirds over, preparations are already begun for the easter day. those indeed are busy times in the culinary quarters at the dwór. such heaps and heaps of food as are prepared in the great kitchens! such stacks and stacks of bread as are baked in the huge ovens, so different from our own cook-stoves. gas stoves are unknown in poland; all the ovens are brick affairs, such as are used by bakers, in to which great logs of heavy wood are placed. and, when the bricks have been heated to the degree necessary for the food which is to be cooked, the fire is withdrawn by long rakes of iron and this heat is retained for a long enough time to bake. the saturday before easter the table is set in the long dining-room. this table presents quite a different appearance from that of the christmas table. now there is every sort of decoration one could wish for. hot-house flowers everywhere; colored easter eggs, just as we have, fruit, and sugar lambs. we american folks can scarce conceive of such lavishness in articles of food. not only is there a young pig served whole upon a gayly decorated platter, but there are, at intervals the length of the great table, immense roasts of all kinds; hams with accompanying sauces, beef, mutton, and not even the "sweets" are forgotten. all being in readiness, the village priest enters and places his blessing upon the food which graces the groaning board. this is really quite a serious custom, this blessing of the food, the houses and everything that pertains to existence. the peasants are most superstitious in this, and would no more dare to enter a new home or even a theatre which had not received this blessing at the hands of the priest or bishop, than they would purposely run into danger. easter day itself is quiet. there is the heavy dinner in the early part of the day, when easter wishes are bestowed upon one and all, even the giving of easter eggs, as we do, not being omitted. and now dawns easter monday. the religious ceremonies are finished; the sabbath has passed, and on monday may begin the merry-making once more. the polacks are very fond of life and merriment. they take advantage of every occasion upon which to indulge in relaxation from work, and always, in a quiet way, they get the most out of living that is possible. just as we celebrate hallowe'en with pranks and games, so the polacks celebrate the smigus on easter monday. among the peasantry, the jokes are a trifle rougher than in upper circles, but they are always good-natured, and never do they allow themselves to overstep, even in the slightest degree. the smigus is, indeed, a merry romp. watch this jaunty little chap as he whistles gayly on his way to the home of his adored one. much courage does it take to venture forth such a night as this. but when one goes to visit _her_, he cares not; he is only too proud to display his courage, for will not _she_ love him the better for it? swish! the whistling is stopped. a series of muffled sounds, and the young man regains his equilibrium once again. he journeys on, but not quite so merrily. his teeth chatter just a little in his head, and he walks a trifle quicker. for the water was cold, and it is not very comfortable to be drenched unawares. nevertheless, he feels himself more or less of a martyr for _her_ sake, and he carries his head high with self-satisfied pride. and hark! there is tittering somewhere. now we can trace it to the village well. let us go and enjoy the sport. my, but what a screaming! it fairly makes one's ears tingle. we hasten our steps, for we know there are girls mixed up in _this_ affair; their shrill, nervous voices proclaim it upon the still, clear air of the night. as helena and her two young friends from across the road were making their way to the public well, they, too, were drenched in exactly the same manner as the young man had been but a moment before. but, then, helena and her friends should have known better than to venture out upon easter monday evening. who can say but that they rather enjoyed the experience? however, they had their reward, for the young gallants, good-hearted men if somewhat rough, filled the pitchers for the maidens and carried them to the doors of their homes upon their own stout shoulders. and they all laughed heartily at the joke. perhaps, who knows, but that they might meet their future husbands here? while the peasants amuse themselves in these harmless, jolly pranks, the occupants of the dwór enjoy similar ones, but somewhat differently. there, the young men are more courtly. catching their prey unawares, they shower her with delicate cologne-water, or twine gayly colored ribbons about her neck, making her their captive. and thus, in hut and manor-house, passes easter monday. but you must not believe that the sports are all confined to the country-side. indeed not. the city folks have their own form of entertainment, and in the city of cracow there is observed a most peculiar custom known as renkawka or the sleeve. in very olden times, i believe about the year a. d., there lived in the south, among the carpathian mountains, a very unimportant chief named krakus. he was a good man, a most unusual thing in that age; therefore everybody loved him, and that was a great honor, because the times were warlike and people cared more for a chief who showed himself brave but fierce than they did about one who was gentle and kind. it so happened that krakus made a journey to the north. he came to a fine hill, about whose foot ran a broad, clear river called the vistula. as he was looking for a site upon which to build himself a fortress, he decided this was just the very place for his. but he found it one thing to wish and quite another thing to obtain. the hill was guarded by a fierce dragon who kept watch, day and night, that no one might take it away. however, krakus was a brave man, and he longed so intensely for the hill, especially now that he knew he ought not to have it, that he decided to fight the dreadful dragon. therefore, he took his trusty sword and shield, mounted the hill, fought the monster and conquered it. had he not done so, there would have been no story. he then set to work to build his castle upon the very top of that impregnable hill, with the beautiful river running around its base. he called the fortress-castle the wawel, because that was the name of the hill upon which it stood. this castle of krakus still is standing, but it is in a sad state of ruin. however, the russian government, to whom it now belongs, is putting it in repair, so that it may present the same appearance of grandeur and splendor that it did in the days of good king krakus. you all know what a castle is; but perhaps there are few of you who understand what it means when applied to an ancient stronghold. the wawel castle really included quite a small village inside its massive walls, for here the chief or king, with his retainers and his army, were wont to lock themselves safely in at close of day, that the enemy, who was always lurking in wait in those times, could do them no harm. it is here, to this wawel, that mrs. ostrowska had promised to take the children in the june time, upon st. john's eve, to witness the ceremony of the wianki. now, when king krakus died, his people mourned him exceedingly. they erected a huge mound outside the city on the further side of the river in his honor. the peasants wore a sort of tunic, at that time, with very wide sleeves, much like the sleeves worn by japanese women. it was in these convenient sleeves they carried the earth with which to erect the mound, hence the ceremony takes its name renkawka or sleeve. it is a peculiarity of the polish peasant that, once a custom is established, it is never abandoned, even though the necessity has long since passed away. i doubt very much if any of those who participate in the renkawka could tell you why the custom is observed; nevertheless each easter monday they gather about the mound, dressed in these old-fashioned garments with wide sleeves. they no longer carry earth with them, as in the old days, however; they bring nothing, but they return with full sleeves, for it has developed into a custom for the rich to send the food which has been left from the easter feast, that it might be distributed among the needy. chapter vii the village wedding some few days after easter, while the children at the dwór were reading to their mother in the library, the clatter of hoofs was heard upon the hard road without. marya jumped up from her chair and ran, with fleet steps, to the front window overlooking the entrance-porch. such a clatter and racket as there was! one would almost imagine himself back in the days of post-horses and outriders. there, under cover of the carriage entrance, were four gayly dressed young peasants, proudly seated upon slick horses, who were stamping their feet and neighing most strenuously. "mother," cried marya excitedly, "see what's here! quick!" mrs. ostrowska smiled, but did not hasten, for she well knew the meaning of this hubbub. this was the formal invitation to the krakowich, the wedding of emilia. she approached the french window and stepped out upon the wide veranda, and she smiled a welcome to the druzbowie, who had come to extend their best wishes from the bride and the groom, and all their relatives, to the mistress and master of the manor, together with their family and their guests, and to request their presence at the wedding of the fair emilia at the village church at noon. after mrs. ostrowska assured the best men of their acceptance and that they all would be most pleased to accept the kind invitation, the four young men rode gayly down the sloping driveway and disappeared at the bend of the road, their gorgeous feathers flowing free in the breeze. and only the clatter of their horses' feet were heard in the distance. in great state, the family coach drew up to the entrance-porch some time later and the ostrowski family drove off toward the home of the bride. it seemed as though the entire populace had turned out for the occasion. such a crowd as there was gathered before the tiny home! and such colors! and yet more people pouring out of the one small door of the humble cottage. one would scarce believe it possible for so small a space to hold so many persons! but no one asks or wishes much room upon such a festal occasion as this; and there was nothing but smiling faces, bright eyes, and gay colors to be seen. one wondered, too, where the simple peasant girls could have obtained such gorgeous raiment. there were black velvet gowns, all tight-fitting, with short sleeves, and ankle length. some were exquisitely embroidered in gold or silver thread, others in bright silks, or even in colored cotton thread. but there was every conceivable hue and shade. if they have nothing else, these peasant maidens will have a holiday attire of the most gorgeous, and they take delight and pride in saving up for years in order to make their own costumes more beautiful than their neighbors'. over their dark, glossy hair a brilliant handkerchief is knotted, one in one manner, one in another, but all of them picturesque. it would seem impossible for the polish peasant to be other than charming in her holiday dress. [illustration: "she was bundled into the village cart"] some of the more fortunate ones wore long pendants from their brown ears, while yet others had on long strings of beads, some of coral, others of pearls, or yet of a bluish stone resembling turquoise. every bit of finery, some handed down from one generation to another, priceless treasures, was in evidence upon this occasion, and even the young men were scarce outdone in their velvet jackets and gay sashes. the occupants of the carriage from the manor-house saluted the assembled peasants warmly, who returned their salute. marya looked in vain for the young bride; she was nowhere to be seen. but helena, the younger sister, approached and offered the master and mistress a drink in which to toast her sister. at length marya spied her; she was just issuing forth from the cottage-door. her white veil fell over her young shoulder with grace as she made her way slowly to the carriage in order to receive the blessing of her master and mistress. suddenly, kneeling in respect, the bride was seized by several burly men in gala attire. with a scream of terror, and amid copious tears, all of which were part of the programme, she was bundled into the village cart and the procession moved onwards, headed by two of the best men, while the other two druzbowie brought up the rear to escort the bridal couple to the church. this is one of the pretty customs left of the old days when the grooms were in the habit of virtually and truly stealing away their brides before the very eyes of their fond parents, often without the consent of the young lady herself. it is a harmless practice at this day, and a pretty one, affording much pleasure to the bride, and much satisfaction to the groom. besides, the peasants would scarce believe themselves properly married unless this ceremony prevailed. the longest part of a wedding is not at the church; the service lasted but a very short time when every one wended his way back to the home of the bride once again. during their absence the tables had been laid for the wedding supper, supplied by the generosity of the master of the dwór, and then having drank a last health to the young couple, the rooms were cleared for the wedding dance. the village had not seen such a wedding for many years as emilia had. she was a general favorite, with her quiet manners, her soft voice and her kind ways to all. after the grand march, led by the bride, who leaned upon the arm of mr. ostrowski himself, followed by the groom with mrs. ostrowska, the master and mistress withdrew from the scene, leaving the peasants to enjoy the dancing and gayety to their hearts' content without the consequent restraint of their presence. now, indeed, did the stout old walls of the plastered hut ring with merriment! the beams fairly shook under the heavy tread of so many husky feet, and it was not until a late hour of the afternoon that the bride and her husband were able to make their escape. until every ceremony has been gone through with, the young polish peasant bride may not free herself from the attentions of the four best men, who take it upon themselves to act as a sort of body-guard and chaperones. therefore, under their protection, the newly-weds repaired to the top of the hill for their final blessing, as well, no doubt, as a substantial wedding gift. the day for them was about finished. the visit to the village photographer was the end; here they were photographed in all the finery of their wedding dress, the one leaning lovingly upon the arm of the other; and what a comfort it will be to them, in the years that are to come, when trials and tribulations come to them, to look upon the picture of themselves as they were upon that delightful day of their wedding, young, care-free and happy. and thus the wedding day of emilia drew to a close. there was one very amusing incident which occurred at the wedding, but not at all out of the ordinary among the polish peasantry. necessarily, being poor, they economize in those things which are not absolute necessities; and shoes being one of these, they are in the habit of going barefoot. but they always possess one pair of best shoes, usually with very high french heels, of which they are inordinately proud. it would amount almost to sacrilege for them to wear these creations on any but the grandest and most important occasions. it would be a pity to scuff them out upon the dusty, rocky roads; so, as the women made their way to the church, they carried their shoes and put them on at the entrance of the church. i really believe they did this more because they would be unable to walk in such high-heeled affairs, for it is somewhat of an art to manage one's feet properly, even at best. as soon as the occasion was over, the shoes were laid carefully aside for use upon another gala day. in this way, one pair of shoes will last a life-time, and no doubt many of them descend to the younger members of the family, as the older ones outgrow them. and now the weeks are speeding by, and corpus christi day has come, a religious festival which takes place about eight weeks after easter. it is a national holiday, and in the city of cracow the procession bozé cialo takes place. here, in the rynek, or public square, gather the entire population of the city, from the oldest infirm inhabitant to the youngest toddler each with his candle in his hand. the bishop of the church conducts the ceremony of the day with great solemnity; and the procession marches around the great square with banners and images of the christ, while little flower girls, crowned with white flowers, scatter rose-petals from the dainty baskets hung from their shoulders. the soldiers, with their bright uniforms and their gay helmets, mingle with the worshippers, and all is bustle, light and solemnity. after the ceremony, however, the crowds disperse to make merry during the remainder of the day; for in europe, upon fast days, after the religious services are ended, the people are at liberty to enjoy themselves as they best care to. * * * * * spring has truly arrived; the leaves are budding forth now in all their new greenness. the spring flowers are shooting forth from their winter shelter and the sun shines warmly, but the air is yet a trifle crisp. there has been a general house-cleaning during the past few days among the polish peasantry, just as we have a general house-cleaning time, so much dreaded by our fathers. the huts in the villages have been freshly whitewashed; some, even, have been tinted blue to vary the monotony. about the doors and windows are bound great boughs of green, for the spring festival has come, and the peasants have been taught to be ever grateful to, and appreciative of, the goodness of their father, for all the benefits they have received, and for another springtime; believing that, upon the quantity of boughs and leaves with which they decorate their homes, will depend the fruitfulness of the coming crops. and thus, with great joy, is spring welcomed in poland. chapter viii the orphanage in the woods as the spring season advanced, the two children at the dwór grew more and more excited. they were awaiting, with great impatience, the arrival of st. john's eve, the th of june. marya was seated upon the stiff-looking sofa in the reception salon, while her brother peter was looking through a book of photographs, depicting the celebration of the wianki. "do you suppose mother will allow us to cast a wreath into the vistula?" asked peter, without looking up from his book, so intensely wrapped up was he in the illustrations. "certainly," marya replied. "if we go to the celebration at all, we will be allowed to do as the others do. i shall ask her," marya continued, "for it wouldn't be a bit of fun to go all the way to cracow just to watch the others; i want some of the fun for myself." "you don't imagine you will be allowed to go in search of the wonderful fern, do you, marya?" the boy questioned. "why not? of course i know i may not go alone, but i shall have mademoiselle with me. it would be quite proper then, and mademoiselle would enjoy it herself, i am sure. she has never seen the celebration, peter, and she's just as crazy over it as we are. if sister martha comes we will be allowed to go," the girl continued, "for she knows what it is to be shut off from every pleasure that even the commonest people have." "marya," warned peter, in a low tone. at the warning, the girl looked up. she saw her mother upon the threshold. she arose instantly from her seat upon the sofa and advanced toward her mother, saluting her with a kiss upon the cheek. her brother did likewise, and together they gently led her toward the sofa and seated her, drawing up two chairs for themselves, so as to face her. but marya did not seat herself by the side of her mother. it is a curious custom throughout europe that the sofa is the seat of honor, to be occupied by the person highest in rank, and, while one may occupy a sofa when alone in the room, it is considered the height of impoliteness to seat one's self upon that sacred article of furniture when one of superior rank, or an elder, is in the room; therefore it was for this reason that the children placed their mother upon the sofa while they occupied chairs by her side. "now, children, listen," mrs. ostrowska said, as she gathered her two children to her. "you need not be a bit afraid that you will not enjoy yourselves in cracow. i have promised to take you to the celebration of the wianki, and you have looked forward to it for a long time with great expectation. you shall not be disappointed. we will forget everything for that night, and you may enter into all the sports of the people, if you choose. even marya, dear, if she wishes, may penetrate into the depths of the forest and search for the sacred fern which may blossom for her alone this year. perhaps you may be the fortunate one to find it, marya. what do you think?" "i hope i shall," the girl replied. "but suppose mademoiselle should become frightened and want to return?" "in that event," the mother said, smiling, "so long as you have the courage, you may continue alone," for she felt quite safe in granting this privilege, as she did not truly believe her little daughter would be brave enough to continue alone. "when shall we start?" marya asked, in great excitement. "it is now the twentieth of june," mrs. ostrowska replied. "your father has some business to attend to in cracow, so we shall leave here on the twenty-second, which will give us ample time to look about the city and have a good visit with your sister martha, for you know she promised to meet us there." "so did sister gabriele," added peter. "yes," the mother replied, "we shall all be together, i hope." "and may i go now and tell mademoiselle?" marya inquired, eagerly, as she rose. "run along," the mother answered. "and what was my boy reading as i came in?" she continued, turning to her son, who had not had a chance to say much while the irrepressible sister was in the room. "oh, i was looking at some old books i found in the library, about the celebration of the wianki. i wanted to know all about it; there are some wonderful pictures of it too." "it is a curious custom, no doubt," the mother replied, as she walked to the table, where the book still remained open. and, for some time, the two looked over the great volume of illustrations, remarking every little while about this one or that. "you remember the story of the princess wanda, and how she threw herself into the vistula in order to save her country from wars?" the mother asked. "very well, indeed," the boy replied. "she was a brave princess. but is it really true, mother?" the boy inquired. "there _was_ a princess wanda at one time, but as to the rest of the story, that is what people say about her." at this moment marya re-entered the room, leading her governess by the hand. "mother," the child said, as she advanced toward the table where the mother and son were engrossed in their book, "mademoiselle is as delighted as i am, with the prospect of seeing the celebration, aren't you, mademoiselle?" "indeed i am," the young lady replied. "i have read much about it, in france, but have never witnessed one of the festivals; besides, it happens to be my birthday, so it will be an added pleasure." "i have arranged for the children of the orphanage to come out to us just after our return," mrs. ostrowska said, addressing the tall, bright-eyed young lady who served in capacity of governess to her daughter; "i wish you would take marya down to the bosquet and help prepare the cottage for their reception. the maids are there now, airing the place out, and i will drive over later in the afternoon, when i shall have everything together that i want sent down." "very well, madame," mademoiselle replied. "marya and i will attend to it as soon as luncheon is finished. shall we take the pony cart?" "yes, you might," mrs. ostrowska said, "and, when you arrive there, see that the beds are well aired, for the maids are apt to be a little careless, and we can't afford to have any of the children take cold." "there's luncheon now," marya called out, impulsively. "run along then, children," the mistress said, "and remember, day after to-morrow we are off for cracow." with hurried steps the two children left the room, followed by mademoiselle, while mrs. ostrowska busied herself about her domestic arrangements, for she never entrusted these duties to any one. after luncheon marya and mademoiselle drove off in the pony cart, through the beautiful gardens, which were blossoming with all sorts of magnificent flowers, past the great fish-ponds at the rear, and on through the thick woods. finally they pulled rein at a most picturesque maisonette, or cottage, situated in the very heart of the forest. it was built of logs; a wide veranda ran across the entire front. the house was large enough to accommodate one hundred girls with their chaperones. inside everything was as comfortable as could be. there was a general sitting-room where the orphaned girls could gather in the evening and listen to the folk-tales their hostess or her substitutes would tell. there were great dormitories, with twenty or thirty snowy, white beds arranged in rows against the walls, with large airy windows between. there was the dining-room, with its long table spread with good, substantial food; and how the walls did ring with the laughter and joyousness of these little orphaned children from the city, who were invited each year to spend two weeks or more as the guests of the benevolent proprietor's wife, mrs. ostrowska. and all over the country of poland this is the custom for the wives of the landed proprietors to do. they give of their wealth for the betterment of the poor and to ease their burden a little. each morning a group of girls, selected by the mistress in charge, tramp off through the woods, baskets on arms, to receive from the kitchen of the dwór the supplies for the following day; and you may be sure this is no small matter, to fill fifty or one hundred hungry mouths. in the afternoons, after the day's work is finished, for these girls do all their own housekeeping in the maisonette, they gather berries or wood-flowers, which they present to their kind hostess, a delicate thoughtfulness which she fully appreciates, for these poor little orphaned ones have no other way in which to express their gratitude for the pleasures they accept. everything being in readiness, marya and her governess returned home through the woods, driving leisurely so as to enjoy the fresh odor of the firs. it was quite late when they reached the dwór; tea was being served on the veranda. here they sought out mrs. ostrowska and reported their progress. then marya was whisked off by mademoiselle to attend to her practising. the morning of the twenty-second dawned bright and warm. immediately after breakfast, the great carriage pulled up at the porch, and all were soon installed within. the whips were cracked, and away the horses sped down the wide avenue of linden trees, through the great stone brama and out into the country road. they had not gone very far when the animals were reined in most emphatically, for the highway had become a horrible mass of mud and ruts. the public roads of poland are proverbial for their wretchedness. the carriage swayed from side to side as it lurched from one deep rut into another; and had it not been for the splendid springs of the carriage, it would have been much more comfortable to have walked. you may imagine what it would mean to jolt over these same roads in a britschka, or public cart, which is so widely in use in poland. it is a sort of open carriage, without springs of any kind, with a hood which can either be raised or lowered, at the will of the occupant. i fear a ride in such a contrivance would not be very enjoyable. however, in spite of the ill condition of the road, cracow was reached safely late in the afternoon. upon reaching the hotel where accommodations had been reserved, they found the two sisters awaiting them. mrs. ostrowska had found the journey very fatiguing, consequently she did not care to dress and descend for dinner; dinner, therefore, was served upstairs in her private sitting-room, and the family spent the remainder of the evening in discussing their plans for the morrow, and in visiting. chapter ix what happened when the brothers disagreed it is market-day in cracow; but then it is always market-day in cracow, so that would be nothing extraordinary. the rynek, or square, is crowded with groups of peasants, some sitting on stools beside their vegetables exposed for sale; others sheltered under huge umbrellas, knitting stockings for their family, while awaiting customers. here are displayed laces, vegetables, also chickens and ducks, alive and squawking. there is scarcely anything one would have need of that is not displayed in this square. indeed, it is a lively spot and a beautiful sight. we have some hours to pass before evening comes, when we may ascend to the wawel for the celebration; therefore, we shall look about us in this active part of the city and see some of the interesting sights and ancient buildings, for most cities are interesting only as they can present some historical reference. here is an ancient-looking castle at this side of the rynek; indeed, it not only looks ancient, but it _is_ ancient. like everything else in poland, it has a queer-sounding name to us; it is known as pod baranami, which means under the ram's head, from its heraldic sign over the front. this is the home of the potockis, one of the very ancient families of the country. so prominent is this castle in the history of poland that the emperor has chosen it as his residence when he is in the city of cracow. but it would be quite improper for the emperor to accept quarters in the home of another; he must be the veritable head of the house; therefore it happens that, from an old custom, it is usual for the family to move to other quarters and to permit the sovereign full possession. the emperor, however, is not without graciousness. he accepts the generosity of his subject, and atones for the inconvenience he has been put to by inviting the owner and his family to dine with him. it must seem very strange to be invited to dinner in one's own home with another at the head. and here, a little further along, is the most interesting building known as the sukiennice, nothing more nor less than the cloth hall. in early days, when there were no great department stores and selling agents for goods, the makers of cloth formed a guild or club, which became known throughout the land as the cloth guild. they built a great hall in which to display their goods, for there were no shops in those times, as there are now. this building became known as the cloth hall. here the guild met to discuss the prices they should ask for the finished material, and how much they ought to pay for the raw. the cloth guild was one of the richest and most influential of all the guilds, for people were extravagant in their dress and wore most exquisite materials. the sukiennice is a great building of stone with the stairway to the second story running up on the outside of the building; there are queer little turrets, one at each corner, and heavy arcades upon the ground floor, which protect the passers-by from the elements, as well as assist in rendering the interior very dark. here, in the city of cracow, the peasants will tell you of a curious belief among them. the founder of poland was lekh, as you all have read. he was supposed to have come from the far south, when quite a grown man; but there are always two sides to every story, as the saying is. and no two historians can agree as to which version is really the correct one concerning lekh. the peasants here believe that lekh was born in this very city, and they absolutely refuse to believe anything else. in any event, the story goes that when he was a very young baby, as he was lying in his cradle one day, without any one near, a fierce dragon with three heads tried to devour him; but no harm came to the child, for he grew up safely to manhood. perhaps his faithful nurse returned in time to avert the threatened danger. however, many, many years later, in this same city of cracow, in the year , the country of poland suffered its greatest humiliation, for cracow was the very last city in the country to fall into the hands of the enemy. and now once more comes the dragon with the three heads; it is the enemy, austria, germany and russia, who joined their forces together to tear beloved poland into pieces, and this time it won the victory. the people of poland will tell you that once upon a time, in the early days of the country's history, there was a certain king reigning over the land, who was very good and wise. he saw that his beloved people and the land in which they lived was not what it should be; that something was wrong. being a solicitous father for his country, he left no stone unturned to discover some remedy for the malady which ailed poland. physicians, famed throughout the land, were sent for and consultations held, but all in vain. there seemed no cure for the patient. however, there was yet one resource left. in the land was a woman who was very clever at divinations; to her, in his last extremity, the good, kind king went and stated his trouble. "fear not," the prophetess answered, after listening to the king's tale, "i will endeavor to aid you." the king was delighted at her encouraging words, but he felt somewhat doubtful of the result, as so many had failed before her. the old woman selected three brothers from out the land; to each of them she gave a third part of a flute. "you are to journey together," she said to them, "until you have crossed over seven mountains, and crossed seven flowing rivers. when you reach a certain peak in the carpathian mountains to the southwest of poland, you are to halt, put the pieces of the flute together, and blow upon it. at the sound, your brave old king, boleslaw, and his valiant knights, will arise from their sleep of death, take up their weapons, and conquer your enemy, when poland will once more be restored to her former state of splendor and glory." the king thanked the prophetess kindly, adding a most substantial gift for her services. he saw the three brothers set off upon their task of salvation for the country. the three young men journeyed together, as they had been bid, until they crossed seven running rivers and had climbed over seven mountains. at length they reached the carpathian mountains as the old woman had told them. upon the top of the peak she had named they halted, and pieced the flute together. then arose the important question of which they had not thought before: _who_ should blow upon the flute. the oldest brother thought he should, for was he not the eldest? the second brother thought he had just as much right to blow upon the flute as his older brother. why should he have all the glory when they, too, had made the long journey as well as the eldest? but the youngest brother was not content with this arrangement. he felt that he should have a turn at the flute as well as the other two. and, in this manner, they bickered and bickered. the days sped by without the question being settled. and thus it remained. as they could not agree as to which one should blow upon the flute, no one blew upon it. king boleslaw did not awaken from his sleep. his knights, in their suits of armor, remained by his side, tranquil and at rest, and poland, poor poland, the ill one, was left to its fate. the legend runs, that the names of the three brothers were aristocracy, bourgeoisie and peasantry. and to-day, were they given another opportunity to show their worth, there would be no question as to which one of the three would blow upon the flute, for all poland has agreed that its hope and life are due to the youngest brother, peasantry. and in this hope the upper class polacks are bending every effort towards improving the condition and education of the common people, for thereby they believe the day will come when the peasantry will arise, like the knights of king boleslaw, and fight for their liberty. the inference is that the peasants are now asleep; they do not see their opportunities, nor know their strength; but that when they do arise they will bring peace and prosperity once more to dear poland. peter and marya were so interested in the history of the city, and in looking at its magnificent old buildings, they were not aware how rapidly the time was passing, until their mother told them it was time to return to the hotel for dinner. as soon as the first rays of dusk crept on, they insisted upon making their way to the wawel, so as not to miss anything; for well they knew, these little children of the aristocracy, they would not be again permitted this privilege. as they drove from the hotel to the top of the hill they passed great crowds, and yet more and more, all making their way on foot up the toilsome incline to the castle, the one spot of activity that night. a bright fire was already burning within the fortress courtyard. the flames leaped higher and higher until they fairly seemed to reach to the vaulted blue above. about the fire were gathered thousands and thousands of people: old men and women, young men and their wives and sweethearts, for the entire populace had turned out to celebrate the wianki, or wreaths. each one bore in his hand a wreath of flowers or leaves, all of different colors; and while the band played entrancing music, wild polonaises and mazurkas, the people cast their wreaths into the waters of the vistula. brilliant fireworks of every description lighted up the scene, making the sky one mass of light and color. every one looked very happy and gave himself up to the joy of the moment. the wreaths having been cast into the river, the young folks joined hands in a great circle about the blazing fire. they danced round and round, singing polish airs; strangers all they were, but enjoying each other's company. from among the circle, two young folks were chosen, a man and a young girl, the circle of singers coupling the names of the two together, prophesying that these two might become affianced and wed happily. what mattered it that they were unknown to each other? what mattered anything that night, when all hearts were light, and youth was abroad? in games and sports of this character, the evening wore away and the hour of midnight approached. marya was becoming more and more excited. she grasped the hand of mademoiselle tighter, for fear she should lose her; then she might not penetrate into the forest. one by one the young girls of the group slipped away and disappeared into the gloom of the surrounding woods; marya believed it was about time that she, too, were making good her escape. holding tightly to the hand of her governess, she walked slowly in the direction the others had taken. she had at last set out on her search for the magic fern which grows in the forest. she would try to discover its hiding-place; for she longed for a happy and successful life. it is no small task, this, that marya had set for herself. in the first place the fern is magic; it is not to be seen by every one; it blooms just a second, exactly as the midnight hour strikes, and then is gone. and another full year must roll by before the maiden may search a second time. [illustration: "her heart was beating faster and faster"] "i shall find it," marya kept repeating to herself, over and over again. but she knew she could not hope to do so if she persisted in holding fast to the hand of mademoiselle. no one must have an escort who would find the precious flower. but marya was timid. never before had she been permitted out after dark, even alone with her governess. the woods were very dark. the moon shone through the leaves, 'tis true, but the beams only added to the fright of the young girl, for they cast weird shadows upon the tree-trunks and more than once she was for turning back. she dared not call out for fear of breaking the magic spell, and she did so want to find the magic fern. her heart was beating faster and faster; she groped her way through the thick trees, keeping her eyes riveted upon the ground in search of the prize. suddenly she saw a bright light ahead of her. she wondered what it could be; whether it was some sprite's home in the forest, and what was going to happen to her next. then she heard the tinkle of a bell. "the hejnal," she told herself. "midnight." she counted the strokes one by one. so intent was she upon her task that she forgot the magic fern. she forgot mademoiselle. she forgot everything but the musical tones of the church bell tolling the midnight hour. she kept her course toward the light in the distance. when she approached it, she found herself once more on the wawel hill, by the side of the great fire about which she had danced so happily the early part of the evening. she had been walking in a circle; and there, not ten feet from her, was mademoiselle; but neither of them had discovered the magic fern. "well, it was fun anyway," marya said, when twitted by her brother for her failure. "and i am sure if i could try again, i would walk in a straight line next time." the party returned to the hotel; the festival was ended, and on the morrow the ostrowski family returned to their dwór beyond cracow. chapter x the harvest festival and now our vacation is about ended. the year is drawing to a close. harvest time has arrived; the crops are stacked up in the fields to be garnered in. the peasants have finished their year's work out-of-doors. they have served their master's interests well; all that remains is his inspection to see that all is satisfactory, and his approval that they earned their wages. mr. ostrowski, accompanied by his good wife, left their home upon the hill and walked towards the great fields of yellow grain. it was not permitted the peasant to garner in these sheaves until the master had passed by. suddenly, they were seized from behind. they were seized gently but forcibly. while one young man held the wrists of the mistress, and others the wrists of the master, other peasants picked up strands of the golden straw and assisted in securely binding their captives. the master and mistress pleaded for their liberty, but their captors were adamant. no ransom, no liberty. at length, after promises of ransom, the peasants unbound their victims, the money was paid over, and the master and mistress were free. laughing, they passed on their way across the field, while the merry peasants then began to stack the golden grain upon their carts and haul it away to the barns. it is a very pretty custom, this one of the harvest festival; and master and laborer enter into the spirit of it with keen zest. it but endears their patron to them the more that he permits this privilege; the ransom is not more than a few pennies; but the master must pay it before he may regain his liberty. all over the estate, from one field to the other, the same ceremony is indulged in for the harvest crops. what merry-making there is in the village during the rest of the day and all through the evening, after the crops are safely stowed away for the winter! the fairest maiden of the village is the queen of the day. she wears her white dress with a queenly air, too; and holds her proud head high, crowned with flowers. forming in line, the queen at the head, the bridesmaids following, and then the other villagers in the order of their importance, the gay procession marches slowly up the hill, singing folk songs as they mount. their sweet, musical voices announce their arrival long beforehand to the mistress of the dwór. she meets them at the porch with graciousness. the queen kneels for her mistress' blessing, and once more they return down the hill toward the village, but now they are enriched with a quantity of small money, with which they straightway proceed to set up a supper, after which they dance the rest of the hours away. they have good cause to be light-hearted, for they know their work is finished for the season, and there are full barns for the winter. * * * * * and we have now spent a full year in the delightful, quaint land of lekh; dear poland, from whose brow has never vanished the one cloud that mars it. it has learned its tragic lesson too late, that what it does not sow it may not reap. the nobles had been too much enwrapped in their own gayety, in their exclusiveness, to turn their hands to the task of setting things straight. the bourgeoisie were neither of one class nor another; they could not afford to compromise themselves by turning either way, consequently they turned neither, and were useless as aids. the peasants were raised in ignorance, were overburdened and kept constantly under the leash, so to speak, and while their strength might have saved the country, they had not the brain-power to solve a means therefor. so that neither of the three brothers being able to decide which should blow upon the flute, as neither class would take upon itself to save the land, so they now await the decision. in the meantime, poland belongs to the three conquering nations, the russians, the austrians and the germans, neither of which the polacks are devoted to. and yet, with all its indecision, poland has given the world some glorious men and women. copernicus, the world-famed astrologer, was born in the city of thorn upon the river vistula, on february , . chopin, the great musical composer, was the son of a polish woman, although he is buried in france. marcella sembrich, edouard de reszke and his brother jean, of grand opera fame, helena modjeska, our beloved actress, now passed away, and jan paderewski, the celebrated pianist, are all polacks. and we americans have much to be indebted for to a great polish soldier. you may not even know his name; had it not been for tadeusz kosciuszko, i doubt very much whether washington, our dearly beloved george washington, would have proven so successful in his endeavors for independence. it is a long way from warsaw in poland to the american colonies; especially was it so in the year , when transportation was not what it now is. but tadeusz did not consider distance or hardship. he was willing to go anywhere, so long as it would take him from the place where he had suffered so keenly. for back in poland, tadeusz loved a beautiful girl. the father of this young lady did not approve of kosciuszko as a lover. he feared the two might elope, which they had really planned to do. therefore, he carried off his daughter in the dead of night, so that tadeusz never saw her again. kosciuszko roamed first here and then there in his sorrow; he did not care much where he went to. at last he went to paris. all the modern world was talking about the courage of the american colonists in taking up their struggle against the mother country. and it happened that during his stay in paris, kosciuszko chanced to meet our minister, benjamin franklin. when franklin learned that tadeusz was skilled in military tactics, and, furthermore, that it made no particular difference to him where he strayed, he at once offered to give him a letter to washington. our general was indeed glad to receive such a valuable aid, and appointed him colonel of engineers and placed him upon his staff. soon his proficiency in fort-building won for him the honor of scientist of the american army. he worked by the side of washington for eight years, until he was no longer needed. then he returned to poland, for his heart was ever there. he gained a glorious victory, the victory of raclawie, which the polacks can never forget. they have erected a mound to his honor, and even the american government has not been ungrateful to this grand man. another polack, count casimir pulaski, also served us well in our early struggles; he was killed at the battle of savannah in . henryk sienkiewicz has given us some wonderful masterpieces in literature, and there are countless other polish authors who might be mentioned, but they are too numerous and one is not as familiar with their works as with those of sienkiewicz. we may linger no longer. the christmas season approaches, when we must return to our own again. homewards we turn our steps, with intense regret. we leave behind us the flat, broad plains of lekh, we recross the continent, take ship at havre, and are once again in our beloved america, where we see our poor happy and comfortable; where all is bustle and prosperity, and we feel thankful that our independence has lasted throughout these years and that no nation may come in and rob us of our heritage. the end. the little colonel books (trade mark) _by annie fellows johnston_ _each vol., large mo, cloth, illustrated, per vol._ $ . =the little colonel stories= (trade mark) being three "little colonel" stories in the cosy corner series, "the little colonel," "two little knights of kentucky," and "the giant scissors," in a single volume. =the little colonel's house party= (trade mark) =the little colonel's holidays= (trade mark) =the little colonel's hero= (trade mark) =the little colonel at boarding-school= (trade mark) =the little colonel in arizona= (trade mark) =the little colonel's christmas vacation= (trade mark) =the little colonel, maid of honor= (trade mark) =the little colonel's knight comes riding= (trade mark) =mary ware: the little colonel's chum= (trade mark) =mary ware in texas= =mary ware's promised land= _these volumes, boxed as a set_, $ . . =the little colonel= (trade mark) =two little knights of kentucky= =the giant scissors= =big brother= special holiday editions each one volume, cloth decorative, small quarto, $ . new plates, handsomely illustrated with eight full-page drawings in color, and many marginal sketches. =in the desert of waiting=: the legend of camelback mountain. =the three weavers=: a fairy tale for fathers and mothers as well as for their daughters. =keeping tryst.= =the legend of the bleeding heart.= =the rescue of princess winsome=: a fairy play for old and young. =the jester's sword.= each one volume, tall mo, cloth decorative $ . paper boards . there has been a constant demand for publication in separate form of these six stories which were originally included in six of the "little colonel" books. =joel: a boy of galilee=: by annie fellows johnston. illustrated by l. j. bridgman. new illustrated edition, uniform with the little colonel books, vol., large mo, cloth decorative $ . a story of the time of christ, which is one of the author's best-known books. =the little colonel good times book= uniform in size with the little colonel series $ . bound in white kid (morocco) and gold . cover design and decorations by peter verberg. published in response to many inquiries from readers of the little colonel books as to where they could obtain a "good times book" such as betty kept. =the little colonel doll book= large quarto, boards $ . a series of "little colonel" dolls. there are many of them and each has several changes of costume, so that the happy group can be appropriately clad for the rehearsal of any scene or incident in the series. =asa holmes=; or, at the cross-roads. by annie fellows johnston. with a frontispiece by ernest fosbery. large mo, cloth, gilt top $ . "'asa holmes; or, at the cross-roads' is the most delightful, most sympathetic and wholesome book that has been published in a long while."--_boston times._ =travelers five: along life's highway.= by annie fellows johnston. with an introduction by bliss carman, and a frontispiece by e. h. garrett. cloth decorative $ . "mrs. johnston's ... are of the character that cause the mind to grow gravely meditative, the eyes to shine with tender mist, and the heart strings to stir to strange, sweet music of human sympathy."--_los angeles graphic._ =the rival campers=; or, the adventures of henry burns. by ruel perley smith. square mo, cloth decorative, illustrated $ . a story of a party of typical american lads, courageous, alert, and athletic, who spend a summer camping on an island off the maine coast. =the rival campers afloat=; or, the prize yacht viking. by ruel perley smith. square mo, cloth decorative, illustrated $ . this book is a continuation of the adventures of "the rival campers" on their prize yacht _viking_. =the rival campers ashore= by ruel perley smith. square mo, cloth decorative, illustrated $ . "as interesting ashore as when afloat."--_the interior._ =the rival campers among the oyster pirates=; or, jack harvey's adventures. by ruel perley smith. illustrated $ . "just the type of book which is most popular with lads who are in their early teens."--_the philadelphia item._ =a texas blue bonnet= by emilia elliott. mo, illustrated $ . "the book's heroine blue bonnet has the very finest kind of wholesome, honest lively girlishness and cannot but make friends with every one who meets her through the book as medium."--_chicago inter-ocean._ =blue bonnet's ranch party= a sequel to "a texas blue bonnet." by emilia elliott. mo, illustrated $ . the new story begins where the first volume leaves off and takes blue bonnet and the "we are seven club" to the ranch in texas. the tables are completely turned: blue bonnet is here in her natural element, while her friends from woodford have to learn the customs and traditions of another world. =the girls of friendly terrace= or, peggy raymond's success. by harriet lummis smith. mo, illustrated $ . this is a book that will gladden the hearts of many girl readers because of its charming air of comradeship and reality. it is a very interesting group of girls who live on friendly terrace and their good times and other times are graphically related by the author, who shows a sympathetic knowledge of girl character. =famous leaders series= _by charles h. l. johnston_ _each, large mo, cloth decorative, illustrated_ $ . =famous cavalry leaders= biographical sketches, with anecdotes and reminiscences, of the heroes of history who were leaders of cavalry. "more of such books should be written, books that acquaint young readers with historical personages in a pleasant informal way."--_n. y. sun._ =famous indian chiefs= in this book mr. johnston gives interesting sketches of the indian braves who have figured with prominence in the history of our own land, including powhatan, the indian cæsar; massasoit, the friend of the puritans; pontiac, the red napoleon; tecumseh, the famous war chief of the shawnees; sitting bull, the famous war chief of the sioux; geronimo, the renowned apache chief, etc. =famous privateersmen and adventurers of the sea.= in this volume mr. johnston tells interesting stories about the famous sailors of fortune. there are tales of captain otway burns, patriot, privateer and legislator; woodes rogers, scourge of the south sea trade; captain william death, wolf of the ocean; and of many others. =famous scouts= "it is the kind of a book that will have a great fascination for boys and young men and while it entertains them it will also present valuable information in regard to those who have left their impress upon the history of the country."--_the new london day._ =famous frontiersmen and heroes of the border= this book is devoted to a description of the adventurous lives and stirring experiences of many pioneer heroes who were prominently identified with the opening of the great west. the stories of these border heroes are graphically presented, and their desperate battles with indians, border desperadoes, and wild beasts are splendidly told. =beautiful joe's paradise.=; or, the island of brotherly love. a sequel to "beautiful joe." by marshall saunders, author of "beautiful joe." one vol., library mo, cloth illustrated $ . "this book revives the spirit of 'beautiful joe' capitally. it is fairly riotous with fun, and is about as unusual as anything in the animal book line that has seen the light."--_philadelphia item._ ='tilda jane.= by marshall saunders. one vol., mo, fully illustrated, cloth decorative, $ . "i cannot think of any better book for children than this. i commend it unreservedly."--_cyrus t. brady._ ='tilda jane's orphans.= a sequel to "'tilda jane." by marshall saunders. one vol., mo, fully illustrated, cloth decorative, $ . 'tilda jane is the same original, delightful girl, and as fond of her animal pets as ever. ='tilda jane in california.= a sequel to "'tilda jane," and "'tilda jane's orphans." by marshall saunders. one vol., mo, fully illustrated, cloth decorative, $ . the scene of the story is sunny california, where the heroine, 'tilda jane, an eastern girl of high resolves and warm impulses, goes on a long visit to distant relatives. many of the other beloved characters in the previous "'tilda jane" books are introduced in this story. =the story of the gravelys.= by marshall saunders, author of "beautiful joe's paradise," "'tilda jane," etc. library mo, cloth decorative. illustrated by e. b. barry $ . here we have the haps and mishaps, the trials and triumphs, of a delightful new england family. =born to the blue.= by florence kimball russel. mo, cloth decorative, illustrated $ . the atmosphere of army life on the plains breathes on every page of this delightful tale. the boy is the son of a captain of u. s. cavalry stationed at a frontier post in the days when our regulars earned the gratitude of a nation. =in west point gray= by florence kimball russel. mo, cloth decorative, illustrated $ . "singularly enough one of the best books of the year for boys is written by a woman and deals with life at west point. the presentment of life in the famous military academy whence so many heroes have graduated is realistic and enjoyable."--_new york sun._ =the sandman: his farm stories= by william j. hopkins. with fifty illustrations by ada clendenin williamson. large mo, decorative cover $ . "an amusing, original book, written for the benefit of very small children. it should be one of the most popular of the year's books for reading to small children."--_buffalo express._ =the sandman: more farm stories= by william j. hopkins. large mo, decorative cover, fully illustrated $ . mr. hopkins's first essay at bedtime stories met with such approval that this second book of "sandman" tales was issued for scores of eager children. life on the farm, and out-of-doors, is portrayed in his inimitable manner. =the sandman: his ship stories= by william j. hopkins, author of "the sandman: his farm stories," etc. large mo, decorative cover, fully illustrated $ . "children call for these stories over and over again."--_chicago evening post._ =the sandman: his sea stories= by william j. hopkins. large mo, decorative cover, fully illustrated $ . each year adds to the popularity of this unique series of stories to be read to the little ones at bed time and at other times. =the doctor's little girl= by marion ames taggart. one vol., library mo, illustrated $ . a thoroughly enjoyable tale of a little girl and her comrade father, written in a delightful vein of sympathetic comprehension of the child's point of view. "the characters are strongly drawn with a life-like realism, the incidents are well and progressively sequenced, and the action is so well timed that the interest never slackens."--_boston ideas._ =sweet nancy= the further adventures of the doctor's little girl. by marion ames taggart. one vol., library mo, illustrated $ . in the new book, the author tells how nancy becomes in fact "the doctor's assistant," and continues to shed happiness around her. =nancy, the doctor's little partner= by marion ames taggart. one vol., library mo, illustrated $ . in nancy porter, miss taggart has created one of the most lovable child characters in recent years. in the new story she is the same bright and cheerful little maid. =nancy porter's opportunity= by marion ames taggart. one vol., library mo, illustrated $ . already as the "doctor's partner" nancy porter has won the affection of her readers, and in the same lovable manner she continues in the new book to press the keynotes of optimism and good-will. =alma at hadley hall= by louise breitenbach. one vol., mo, illustrated $ . "this delightful tale of boarding-school life is one that cannot fail to appeal to the lover of good things in girls' books. it will take rank for its naturalness and truth."--_portland press._ =gabriel and the hour book= by evaleen stein. small quarto, cloth decorative, illustrated and decorated in colors by adelaide everhart $ . gabriel was a loving, patient, little french lad, who assisted the monks in the long ago days, when all the books were written and illuminated by hand, in the monasteries. "no works in juvenile fiction contain so many of the elements that stir the hearts of children and grown-ups as well as do the stories so admirably told by this author."--_louisville daily courier._ =a little shepherd of provence= by evaleen stein. cloth, mo, illustrated by diantha h. marlowe $ . "the story should be one of the influences in the life of every child to whom good stories can be made to appeal."--_public ledger._ =the little count of normandy= by evaleen stein. cloth, mo, illustrated by john goss $ . "this touching and pleasing story is told with a wealth of interest coupled with enlivening descriptions of the country where its scenes are laid and of the people thereof."--_wilmington every evening_. =alys-all-alone= by una macdonald. cloth, mo, illustrated $ . "this is a most delightful, well-written, heart-stirring, happy ending story, which will gladden the heart of many a reader."--_scranton times._ =alys in happyland.= a sequel to "alys-all alone." by una macdonald. cloth, mo, illustrated $ . "the book is written with that taste and charm that prepare younger readers for the appreciation of good literature when they are older."--_chicago tribune._ =the red feathers.= by g. e. t. roberts. cloth decorative, illustrated $ . "the red feathers" tells of the remarkable adventures of an indian boy who lived in the stone age, many years ago, when the world was young. =flying plover.= by g. e. theodore roberts. cloth decorative. illustrated by charles livingston bull $ . squat-by-the-fire is a very old and wise indian who lives alone with her grandson, "flying plover," to whom she tells the stories each evening. =comrades of the trails.= by g. e. theodore roberts. cloth decorative. illustrated by charles livingston bull $ . the story of a fearless young english lad, dick ramsey, who, after the death of his father, crosses the seas and takes up the life of a hunter in the canadian forests. =marching with morgan.= how donald lovell became a soldier of the revolution. by john v. lane. cloth decorative, illustrated $ . this is a splendid boy's story of the expedition of montgomery and arnold against quebec. =rodney, the ranger=, or, with daniel morgan on trail and battlefield. by john v. lane. cloth decorative, illustrated $ . young rodney allison, although but fifteen years of age, played a man's part in the troublous times preceding the american revolution and in the war itself. =chinese playmates= by norman h. pitman. small cloth mo, illustrated $ . a worth-while, happy little story about two little chinese boys, lo-lo and ta-ta, and the strange fortunes that befell them when they wandered from home. =the young section-hand=; or, the adventures of allan west. by burton e. stevenson. square mo, cloth decorative, illustrated $ . mr. stevenson's hero is a manly lad of sixteen, who is given a chance as a section-hand on a big western railroad, and whose experiences are as real as they are thrilling. =the young train dispatcher.= by burton e. stevenson. square mo, cloth decorative, illustrated $ . "a better book for boys has never left an american press."--_springfield union._ =the young train master.= by burton e. stevenson. square mo, cloth decorative, illustrated $ . "nothing better in the way of a book of adventure for boys in which the actualities of life are set forth in a practical way could be devised or written."--_boston herald._ =captain jack lorimer.= by winn standish. square mo, cloth decorative, illustrated $ . jack is a fine example of the all-around american high-school boy. =jack lorimer's champions=; or, sports on land and lake. by winn standish. square mo, cloth decorative, illustrated $ . "it is exactly the sort of book to give a boy interested in athletics, for it shows him what it means to always 'play fair.'"--_chicago tribune._ =jack lorimer's holidays=; or, millvale high in camp. by winn standish. illustrated $ . full of just the kind of fun, sports and adventure to excite the healthy minded youngster to emulation. =jack lorimer's substitute=; or, the acting captain of the team. by winn standish. illustrated $ . on the sporting side, this book takes up football, wrestling, tobogganing, but it is more of a _school_ story perhaps than any of its predecessors. the little cousin series (trade mark) each one vol., mo, decorative cover, cloth, with full-page illustrations in color. price per volume $ . _by mary hazelton wade unless otherwise indicated_ =our little african cousin= =our little alaskan cousin= by mary f. nixon-roulet =our little arabian cousin= by blanche mcmanus =our little argentine cousin= by eva cannon brooks =our little armenian cousin= =our little australian cousin= by mary f. nixon-roulet =our little belgian cousin= by blanche mcmanus =our little bohemian cousin= by clara v. winlow =our little brazilian cousin= by mary f. nixon-roulet =our little brown cousin= =our little canadian cousin= by elizabeth r. macdonald =our little chinese cousin= by isaac taylor headland =our little cuban cousin= =our little danish cousin= by luna may innes =our little dutch cousin= by blanche mcmanus =our little egyptian cousin= by blanche mcmanus =our little english cousin= by blanche mcmanus =our little eskimo cousin= =our little french cousin= by blanche mcmanus =our little german cousin= =our little grecian cousin= by mary f. nixon-roulet =our little hawaiian cousin= =our little hindu cousin= by blanche mcmanus =our little hungarian cousin= by mary f. nixon-roulet =our little indian cousin= =our little irish cousin= =our little italian cousin= =our little japanese cousin= =our little jewish cousin= =our little korean cousin= by h. lee m. pike =our little mexican cousin= by edward c. butler =our little norwegian cousin= =our little panama cousin= by h. lee m. pike =our little persian cousin= by e. c. shedd =our little philippine cousin= =our little polish cousin= by florence e. mendel =our little porto rican cousin= =our little portuguese cousin= by edith a. sawyer =our little russian cousin= =our little scotch cousin= by blanche mcmanus =our little siamese cousin= =our little spanish cousin= by mary f. nixon-roulet =our little swedish cousin= by claire m. coburn =our little swiss cousin= =our little turkish cousin= cosy corner series it is the intention of the publishers that this series shall contain only the very highest and purest literature,--stories that shall not only appeal to the children themselves, but be appreciated by all those who feel with them in their joys and sorrows. the numerous illustrations in each book are by well-known artists, and each volume has a separate attractive cover design. each vol., mo, cloth $ . _by annie fellows johnston_ =the little colonel= (trade mark.) the scene of this story is laid in kentucky. its heroine is a small girl, who is known as the little colonel, on account of her fancied resemblance to an old-school southern gentleman, whose fine estate and old family are famous in the region. =the giant scissors= this is the story of joyce and of her adventures in france. joyce is a great friend of the little colonel, and in later volumes shares with her the delightful experiences of the "house party" and the "holidays." =two little knights of kentucky= who were the little colonel's neighbors. in this volume the little colonel returns to us like an old friend, but with added grace and charm. she is not, however, the central figure of the story, that place being taken by the "two little knights." =mildred's inheritance= a delightful little story of a lonely english girl who comes to america and is befriended by a sympathetic american family who are attracted by her beautiful speaking voice. by means of this one gift she is enabled to help a school-girl who has temporarily lost the use of her eyes, and thus finally her life becomes a busy, happy one. =cicely and other stories for girls= the readers of mrs. johnston's charming juveniles will be glad to learn of the issue of this volume for young people. =aunt 'liza's hero and other stories= a collection of six bright little stories, which will appeal to all boys and most girls. =big brother= a story of two boys. the devotion and care of stephen, himself a small boy, for his baby brother, is the theme of the simple tale. =ole mammy's torment= "ole mammy's torment" has been fitly called "a classic of southern life." it relates the haps and mishaps of a small negro lad, and tells how he was led by love and kindness to a knowledge of the right. =the story of dago= in this story mrs. johnston relates the story of dago, a pet monkey, owned jointly by two brothers. dago tells his own story, and the account of his haps and mishaps is both interesting and amusing. =the quilt that jack built= a pleasant little story of a boy's labor of love, and how it changed the course of his life many years after it was accomplished. =flip's islands of providence= a story of a boy's life battle, his early defeat, and his final triumph, well worth the reading. * * * * * transcriber's notes: obvious punctuation errors repaired. advertising pages, page , "f" changed to "of" (classic of southern life) our little finnish cousin the little cousin series (trade mark) _cloth decorative, mo, illustrated, each_ $ . by laura e. richards, anna c. winlow, etc. =our little african cousin= =our little alaskan cousin= =our little arabian cousin= =our little argentine cousin= =our little armenian cousin= =our little australian cousin= =our little austrian cousin= =our little belgian cousin= =our little bohemian cousin= =our little brazilian cousin= =our little bulgarian cousin= =our little canadian cousin of the great northwest= =our little canadian cousin of the maritime provinces= =our little chilean cousin= =our little chinese cousin= =our little cossack cousin= =our little cuban cousin= =our little czecho-slovak cousin= =our little danish cousin= =our little dutch cousin= =our little egyptian cousin= =our little english cousin= =our little eskimo cousin= =our little finnish cousin= =our little french cousin= =our little german cousin= =our little grecian cousin= =our little hawaiian cousin= =our little hindu cousin= =our little hungarian cousin= =our little indian cousin= =our little irish cousin= =our little italian cousin= =our little japanese cousin= =our little jewish cousin= =our little jugoslav cousin= =our little korean cousin= =our little lapp cousin= =our little lithuanian cousin= =our little malayan (brown) cousin= =our little mexican cousin= =our little norwegian cousin= =our little panama cousin= =our little persian cousin= =our little philippine cousin= =our little polish cousin= =our little porto rican cousin= =our little portuguese cousin= =our little quebec cousin= =our little roumanian cousin= =our little russian cousin= =our little scotch cousin= =our little servian cousin= =our little siamese cousin= =our little south african (boer) cousin= =our little spanish cousin= =our little swedish cousin= =our little swiss cousin= =our little turkish cousin= =our little welsh cousin= =our little west indian cousin= the little cousins of long ago =our little athenian cousin= =our little carthaginian cousin= =our little celtic cousin= =our little crusader cousin= =our little feudal cousin= =our little frankish cousin= =our little florentine cousin= =our little macedonian cousin= =our little norman cousin= =our little roman cousin= =our little saxon cousin= =our little spartan cousin= =our little viking cousin= l. c. page & company (inc.) beacon street boston, mass. [illustration: "the reindeer suddenly swerved in such a way that juhani was pitched out." (_see page _)] our little finnish cousin by clara vostrovsky winlow _author of_ "our little roumanian cousin," "our little bohemian cousin," "our little bulgarian cousin." _illustrated by_ harriet o'brien [illustration] boston the page company publishers _copyright, _ by the page company _all rights reserved_ first impression, april, second impression, july, third impression, january, preface finland is one of the little countries in whose struggles for greater freedom the world is interested to-day. it is situated on the northeast shore of the baltic sea, and is bounded by russia, norway and sweden, the gulf of bothnia and the gulf of finland. a maze of rocks and small, pine-covered islands form a ring around the coast. the art of navigating between these requires much skill and long apprenticeship, so that it is no wonder that finland, among other things, is noted for her pilots. "forest, rock, and water" is the way in which one writer describes finland. this little country, known all over the world for its progressive ideas, is thinly inhabited, having only one city, the capital helsingfors, of any size. over eighty-six per cent. of the people are finnish, twelve per cent. swedish, and the rest russians, germans, and lapps. little is known of finnish history before the twelfth century, when king eric of sweden invaded the land to christianize the inhabitants. swedish settlements followed and finland became a province of sweden. it remained that for six hundred years, during which time there were constant conflicts between the russians and swedes for the possession of finnish ports. while sweden was engaged with napoleon, the finns, tired of the ceaseless disorder, agreed to union with russia on condition that they be assured a certain independence. this was conceded, alexander i, then tzar of russia, taking oath as grand duke of finland and promising to observe the religion of the country and all the privileges and rights which it had so far enjoyed. this oath was kept more scrupulously than by the last two swedish monarchs, and cordial relations were established between russia and finland. the finnish people began to take a more prominent part in their own affairs, for up to that time the swedes had had the upper hand everywhere. alexander boasted with some truth that he had created a nation. in tzar alexander ii gave a representative constitution to finland. in , the present deposed russian ruler, nicholas ii, was ill-advised enough to issue a manifesto suspending the finnish constitution. unheeded protests followed, and up to there is an unenviable record of oppression and suppression on the part of russia. in november, , however, the tzar was compelled to make the concessions that the nation demanded. during the present world conflict the finns have proclaimed in their parliament their right to absolute independence, and their claim is sanctioned by the greatest of the european nations, which recognize the republic of finland. c. v. w. contents chapter page preface v i a farm home ii sunday iii the end of autumn iv laplanders v school vi the december vacation vii christmas week viii summer time list of illustrations page "the reindeer suddenly swerved in such a way that juhani was pitched out" (_see page _) _frontispiece_ "things tasted so good out of doors" "juhani was listening to the most marvelous tales" "waving his arms to keep his balance, jumped far forward" "she carried out a basket filled with crumbs and grain" "wound colored yarn around the rye stalks" our little finnish cousin chapter i a farm home it was early autumn in the finland forest by the lake. gold glistened from the underbrush, from the great beds of bracken, from the shining birches, from the paler aspens, and even from the prized rowans and juniper trees. on one side where the forest grew thinner, there was a glimpse of marshy land where big whortleberries grew in profusion. around this marshy spot a tiny path led to a succession of fields in some of which were grazing cattle, in some, queer tall haystacks, and in two smaller ones, grain still uncut. two children--a boy and a girl--made their way from the forest toward the lake, their hands tightly clasping birchen baskets filled with berries that they had succeeded in gathering. reaching the shore, they silently took their places in a small boat moored under a clump of trees. each seized an oar, and began to row with experienced measured strokes to the other side. both unsmiling faces had the same candid capable air, but that was the only resemblance. ten-year-old juhani was like his father who belonged to the tavastian type of finn. he was pale, with high cheek bones, thin hair, and a strong chin that seemed to say: "i won't give in! i won't give in!" he might have been taken for sulky until you met the look of sincere inquiry under his well-formed brows. six-year maja was fairer. she was brown-eyed and brown-haired, like her karelian mother who belonged to the other decided type of finn. despite the silent gentleness of her face, she looked as if, on occasion, she could be high spirited and even gay. a little crowd was gathered at the landing stage to which they crossed, and more persons came hurrying up as a blast was heard from a steamer still some distance away on the lake. there were other children like themselves with baskets of birch, and women with cakes and cookies and farm produce for sale. some of these were busily knitting while they waited to offer their wares. most prominent among all thus gathered was a rather short, sturdy girl, who seemed entirely indifferent to the fact that the kerchief tied around her head was not at all becoming. this was hilja, who, although only eighteen, already held the important position of pier-master. at last, amid much commotion, the steamer came up. the passengers stepped ashore and bought many of the good things offered. but even when all were sold there was no sign of the steamer's departure. the big stacks of wood piled on the wharf, that were to serve the steamer for fuel, had first to be carried aboard. for this there was help in plenty. men, women, and children were eager to have their services accepted. a couple of foreigners grew restless at the delay, but no one else betrayed any impatience, having been brought up, no doubt, on the finnish proverb, "god did not create hurry." the pier-master shouted something when it was all in, and the steamer, with many toots, departed. the people scattered until only juhani and maja remained to watch a heavily laden timber barge go slowly by on its way to the coast. before it passed juhani had nudged maja to show her the pennies he had earned by carrying wood. with the slightest possible twinkle of mischief, maja at first kept her own fist tightly closed. "oh, show what you have!" juhani exclaimed somewhat contemptuously, at which maja opened her hand and showed twice as many pennies that her sweet face, as well as the nice berries, had brought her. juhani showed his surprise by staring and staring until maja closed her hand again, explaining half in apology, "it was from the foreigners," and led the way to their boat. again they rowed silently over, anchored their boat in a little cove, and then walked rapidly across the fields. maja began to hum a folk song, to which juhani soon whistled a tune while he kept one hand on a sheathed knife, called a _pukko_, hanging from the belt around his waist. it was no wonder he was conscious and proud that it hung there. when his father had given it to him a few days before, he had said, "you are beginning to do man's work, juhani, and so i think that you deserve a man's knife." nor was it a cheap knife. its leather sheath was tipped with brass and very prettily ornamented with a colored pattern. both children were barefoot and both walked with equal unconcern over stubble and sharp stones. at the edge of the last field maja glanced inquiringly at her brother and then broke into a run. juhani did not follow her example at first, but, when he did, he easily overtook her near a square farmhouse painted a bright red, but with doors and windows outlined in white. against this house, reaching from the ground to the black painted roof, was a ladder to be used in case of fire. up this juhani ran, waving his hand to his sister when at the top. near this house were three storehouses, one for food, one for clothes and one for implements. further away were cow houses, and a stable, the loft of which was used for storing food in winter, and as a bedroom for the maid servants in summer. there was also a small pig sty built of granite, a stone of which finland has so much that it has been said it would be possible to rebuild all of london with it and still leave the supply apparently undiminished. neat, strong fences of slanting wood enclosed these buildings. off by itself was an outbuilding more important in a way than any of these, the bath-house, which in finland is never missing. an older girl of about fourteen with a blue kerchief on her head was drawing water from a well near the kitchen door. as she emptied the bucket made of a pine trunk and attached to a long pole weighted at the end, she called to juhani, who had just jumped from the ladder: "hurry! the pastor has come to stay till we go to church to-morrow and he wants to ask you some bible questions." without waiting for her, juhani followed maja, who had already entered the kitchen bright with shining copper, stopping first, however, to wipe his feet on a mat made of pine branches laid one above another. this kitchen led directly into a pleasant living-room, with a tall china tiled stove, some chairs, a big sofa, a table, and a carved cupboard. here were several odd beds too, that did not look like beds at all. they were beds shut up for the day. at night they would be pulled open. a small loom stood in one corner. strips of home-made carpet were laid on the yellow painted floor. on one wall hung a picture which had lately had a peculiar fascination for maja. it represented katrine mansdottir, a beautiful peasant woman with a sad romantic history. she lived when finland was under swedish rule. king eric the fourteenth had been captivated by her winsomeness when he first saw her selling fruit on the street. he had her taken to his castle and educated her like a princess. when she was old enough he married her, much to the dissatisfaction of his conservative courtiers. later the king was deposed and cast into prison. here his wife showed her gratitude for all that he had done for her, sharing his imprisonment and ministering to him until his death. then she renounced her crown and retired to live among the loyal finns who loved her for the friendship that she had always shown them. on the most comfortable chair in the room sat the pastor, a man who looked so serious that one wondered if he ever smiled. no one who knew his duties and responsibilities could wonder at this. among them were visiting the widely scattered members of his parish, comforting them in sorrow and distress, helping them with advice when needed. just outside the nearest village, on the other side of the lake, he had a little patch of land of his own which he cultivated when he could, to help out his slender salary. the children greeted the pastor like an old friend, and seating themselves sedately on chairs opposite him stiffened up in anticipation of the questions that he would ask them. around four o'clock everything in the room became evening colored, and the mother came in and invited all into the kitchen for dinner. there was an abundance of simple food,--salt fish, meat and potatoes, hard rye bread, mead and coffee, of which latter even little maja drank her share. the first part of the meal made one think of a quaker meeting, it was so very quiet; but after the mead had been passed around and the coffee poured, a sparkle came to the eyes of all, and even the pastor's face took on a genial glow as, prompted by kind inquiries, he related some of his recent experiences. "you know poor old yrjo (george)," he said, "who is now one of my people. well, he's trying to learn to read and write and having a hard time doing it. you see, he never had a chance earlier in life, for he used to live way up north on the outskirts of lapland. he is doing all this because--well, i guess you can guess why--. yes, he wants to be married, and you know how strict our law is that no pastor shall marry men or women unless they know how to read and write. i think he'll learn, for he's dogged. he's already built himself a shack on my grounds not to waste time in coming and going. when i told him this morning that he was making progress he was as delighted as a child." then he told of a recent visit to a big dairy farm, of the long low buildings with ice chambers here and there. "it was a great pleasure," he said, "to see how neatly everything is kept. all the floors and walls are of blue and white tile, and the windows of stained glass--a pretty sight. i can't forget the rows of shelves with their big earthenware vessels of rich-looking milk and cream. in one room women dressed in white were putting up butter for export. i agree with those who think that dairying is going to grow in importance here. it certainly seems to pay our farmers better than farming." "i am going to be a dairy man," said juhani. "and i am going to a university and be an architect," piped in little maja quite as decidedly. at this the family laughed, but the pastor remarked seriously, "it's well to make plans early. there are many women who are succeeding in architecture, little maja." "yes," remarked the mother, "and maja has an aunt in helsingfors who is among the number." as it was saturday night the usual preparations had been made for a family bath, and the kindly pastor who was not considered an outsider was invited to share in it as a matter of course. every one seemed to look to this bath as a great pleasure. after the pastor had accepted, juhani, with face glowing, ran at once to show the bath whisks that he had himself made. "i made a lot of them in the summer," he explained, "for then the leaves are soft." "go take them to the bath house and steep them in hot water," said his father, "and see that the maids have not forgotten to strew fresh straw on the floor." "may i not get ready first," asked juhani. and when his father nodded, he slipped off his clothes and ran naked to where the bath house stood alone not far from the lake. the little structure was made of pine logs on a foundation of moss and stones. the roof was thatched. over the door the farmer had carved the finnish proverb: "the church and the sauna (bath-house) are holy places." within, on one side, was a stone oven, while opposite this was a series of wooden steps to the ceiling. these were covered with straw. when juhani entered, an old woman servant was already there poking at the big fire. now and then she threw on water so that it was quite steamy when the other members of the family came trooping in. juhani at once seized maja around the waist, all his shyness evidently left outside, and twirled her around until she shouted for him to stop. it grew hotter and hotter in the room and more and more steamy as the different members climbed on the step-like platforms and beat themselves with the birch twigs which now gave forth a pleasant fragrance. juhani and maja had also mounted the steps, but every once in a while they would jump down and try to whip each other on the back and legs. when all had perspired enough, they took turns in sitting on a chair and letting the old woman give each a quick massage and a wash down with cold water. then oh, what a race there was for the lake, into which all plunged with shouts of laughter! then out again and a race for home. maja somehow got a big start and came in a foot ahead of her brother who, when he saw what she was after, almost tumbled over her in his eagerness to win. chapter ii sunday preparations for going to church next morning were soon made. some things that we should consider unusual were taken, including a big lunch and a couple of hammocks. two row boats carried the party some distance down the lake to a much larger boat, called the church boat. it was already half filled. after a short wait, other peasants arrived, greeted their friends soberly and sat down. the men had on somber-looking suits, with big felt hats and high boots. the women's costumes varied, although the majority had on black shapeless jackets with a white kerchief crossed under the chin; some, however, had on bright bodices, embroidered aprons, and blue or crimson kerchiefs. most of the women carried their prayer-books wrapped in white handkerchiefs. when all were seated, the young women, as well as the young men, seized hold of the oars and the boat left the pier. it was a slow journey, stops being made at a few places where people stood waiting. it was rather solemn, too; there was no idle chatter; at the minister's suggestion, however, hymns were sung. the lutheran church, at which the party at last arrived, was a plain building both inside and out. it was built entirely of timber and had a separate bell tower. as the people walked in, the women all took their places on one side, the men on the other. the services lasted until three in the afternoon. maja yawned and almost put herself asleep counting the stitches in the woman's jacket in front of her. but when it was all over and the people filed out of the building, they seemed to leave some of their somberness there. they gathered in groups and together departed either for a swim in the lake or with hammocks and lunches for a picnic in the silent woods. [illustration: "things tasted so good out of doors"] things tasted so good out of doors that maja and juhani smiled much at each other, although juhani would always put on a particularly serious look afterwards. then the two swung on one of the hammocks and also on a huge swing near the church. "come on for a ramble with us in the woods," two passing children of their own age called to them. "come," said maja, taking hold of juhani's hand, and away they went over the greenish gray mosses through the rosy and pale yellow underbrush. there were bright red cranberries here and there with which they filled their pockets as they discussed, not church affairs, but wood nymphs, the kind ugly _tomtar_ or brownies, and the little gray man in the woods who has a fiery tail. suddenly maja stopped, looking so scared that all followed her example. "what is it?" asked her brother. "a brownie!" maja could hardly make herself heard. the boys laughed at her as they rushed forward and made a big brown squirrel scamper away into the branches of a tree. "nevertheless i'd like to believe that there were brownies around," juhani confessed when the girls had come up. "do you know that they are so kind that on christmas they bring a gift to every animal that lives near?" the others nodded. "i'd rather see one than a wood nymph," one of them declared. "i'd be afraid of her. my! but she must be ugly from behind if she's really hollow there as they say. she's apt to do you harm too, if you see her from the back." by this time they had reached a little one-room hut evidently deserted, for the door swung on only one hinge. before they peeked in, juhani, with a curious look on his face, cautioned each to say "good day to all here" on entering even if they saw no one, for a _tomty_ might be hidden in some corner. it was a very old type of house. the upper half of the walls were stained black. there was a big fire place but no chimney, the smoke having evidently been allowed to escape through a hole in the roof. a long thin piece of resinous wood was still fastened to one wall. this was called a _pare_, and when lit served instead of lamp or candle. there was a small clearing around the house, and half buried in leaves near the door was an old-time harrow that had once been formed from a bundle of stout fir top branches. later they paused to ask for a drink of water at a small two-room cottage of unhewn, unpainted wood surrounded by a little pasture but with no garden or other sign of cultivation around, nothing but the vast impressive forest. a savage-looking dog that looked as if it might have been crossed with a fox, snarled at them but was called away by a very old woman who explained that she was there alone, her son having lately gone to a timber camp. "he'll come back with enough money," she added with a trembling voice, "to see us through the winter, which is going to be a hard one." "why do you say that, granny?" asked juhani. "couldn't you see it for yourself," the old woman returned rather sharply, "by the great number of berries?" "are you not lonely here?" maja inquired with sympathy. "aye, lonely," repeated the woman, "but contented too, for have i not the forest with me day and night and is it not a part of my very soul?" a long drawn whistle here made the children realize that the church parties were breaking up and that they must make haste to return, so thanking the old woman they raced back apparently as fresh as if they had not already had a long tramp. where the forest was thickest it was quite dark. "if it gets any darker," said maja, "we'll have to stop and pray to the twilight maiden to spin for us a thread of gold to lead us safely home." "there are also others to help us," said juhani, and half playfully he called on all the woodland fairy folk whose names are found in the great finland epic, "the kalevala": on _mielikki_, hostess of the forest; _tuometar_, nymph of the bird cherry; _katejatar_, nymph of the juniper; _pillajatar_, nymph of the mountain ash; _matka-teppo_, god of the road; _hongatar_, ruler of the pines; _sinetar_, that beauteous elf who paints the flowers the blue of the sky, and on _sotka's daughter_ who protects wild game from harm. chapter iii the end of autumn the next day maja had to stay in the house to help while her mother and sister baked, for they were to have a _talko_, that is, neighbors had been invited over to help with the last of the harvesting. "have lots of good things to eat," juhani called as he followed his father out to help in one of the fields. here a number of peasants were driving long poles into the ground at regular intervals; to these they fastened eight outstretched arms, the ends of which were curved upwards. on these arms hay that had been cut with sickles was carefully arranged that it might dry. while this was being done, the grain that had been dried some time before was being baked in an outside oven or kiln not far from the hay barn, a big long building with a corrugated roof. this baking makes the finnish grain in demand for seed in other countries, for it drives away the damp and kills all insects that might injure the germ. by evening all the work was finished, and the merry group of peasant men and women who had given their help trooped, singing, to the house. a big supper awaited them and as they sat down, the men on one side of the table, the women on the other, all showed the splendid appetites which the work in the fields had given them. as soon as the supper was over, the floor was cleared, and all joined in dancing the national dance, called the _jenka_, during which a warmth of feeling was displayed that belied their reputation for being stolid, and that no stranger, who might have seen the men and women on their way to church the day before, would have believed possible. after this the weather grew less pleasant; the sky was often dull and overcast; cold raw winds began to blow and there was much fog and sleet. during this time there was a certain flurry in the farm house, for juhani, young as he was, had gained his father's permission to accompany an uncle to a lumber camp some distance to the north. at the first fall of snow they left. it was a long drive they had, one that grew colder after the middle of the day. the air, which was very still, had a frostiness to it that nipped juhani's nose and face. but neither he nor his uncle grumbled. the faces of both had a peculiarly similar look of patient endurance. it was not until toward evening that they came to a rolling swampy country where a big body of woodmen were already at work at the rude shelters that were to form the camp. for one night a batch of new men had to lie around the camp fire, turning one side, then the other to the heat, for there were not enough huts yet built. juhani was put to work almost at once in picking up chips and doing all sorts of odds and ends, for he had only been allowed to go on condition that he was willing to make himself useful. later he was regularly sent alone twice a week through the forest to a peasant farm for milk and eggs. the coming and going for these took all of a day. sometimes the forest was dark and silent; at other times birds called to him, and wild animals, strangely tame, would peep out from the snow-covered brush at him. once a merry squirrel enticed him into an old overgrown path. he continued to follow it even after he had lost track of the squirrel until he came to two branches, one of which he decided led in the direction of his destination. after wandering about for an hour and finding that the trees and the brush were growing denser and denser he grew somewhat alarmed and tried to retrace his steps. he soon found that this was impossible. here it occurred to him that if he could get to the top of a tree he might have a better idea of where he was and what to do. so dropping his pail, he scrambled up the nearest willow. this was not high enough to give much of an outlook, and, getting down again, he cast longing eyes on a tall fir with no low branches. with difficulty he dragged a small uprooted juniper to it and placing it against the trunk, with its help he managed to reach the lowest branch. it was then an easy task to climb to the top of the tree. there was a very fair outlook from the top but no sign of the farmhouse for which he was bound. there was one thing comforting however. it was that at some distance away something glittered like water. with a grunt juhani let himself down and then stood in thought. only for a moment did he allow himself to do this. he was too well aware of the shortness of the days to dally. drawing his _pukko_ (knife) he began to hew his way through the thick underbrush, over the springy soil, in the direction of what he knew must be the lake. now and then fallen tree trunks had to be scaled. twice his feet caught in tangled vines and threw him. several times he had to take the time to climb trees to assure himself that he was going in the right direction. and all the time he had the consciousness that night was descending. it was already dusk when he reached the lake where, to his great relief, he recognized the spot by means of a big bowlder as being within half a mile of camp. he saw, however, that in a very few minutes it would be too dark to go further. the only thing to do was to wait until the moon rose. so gathering together as much of the brush as he could, he started it burning and then lay down before it to try to get a little rest. despite the fire, which continually had to be replenished, it was very cold and he found it necessary to turn constantly first one side, then the other towards the flames to be at all comfortable. at last the fire went out and there was nothing left for juhani to do except sit with his back to the trunk of a nearby tree and wait. when the moon came out, it was a very stiff boy who arose and followed stumblingly the banks of the lake to camp. here he found a group of men with his uncle in the lead, getting ready to start a hunt for him. as soon as he had stammered out his story to his uncle the latter shook him angrily by the shoulder and ordered him to bed. "don't you ever try anything of the kind again; at least not while you are on an errand for me," he called after him. and juhani never did. the boy won the favor of a driver of one of the short sledges on which the cut-down trees, rough hewn with axes and with the bark peeled off, were drawn, and he sometimes had a ride with him to the lake where men stalked the logs on the banks. on these trips, although he said nothing, he hardly knew whether he admired most how the driver guided the horses over the difficult ground or the intelligence of the alert little finnish horses themselves. sometimes, instead of these trips, he had an opportunity to watch the actual cutting down of the trees. he would sometimes quiver in sympathy as a tree quivered before dashing down against the other trees, perhaps remaining suspended a moment, then coming with a crash to the ground and raising a flurry of snow. once a tree was down it was ready to be cleared of branches and then sawed into logs. in the evening the spring journey of the logs, when they would be floated down the lake and out to sea, was often discussed. juhani learned how men with long hooks were stationed at the narrow or rocky places on the water to keep the logs from getting blocked. this was difficult and often dangerous. sometimes it led to loss of life. while on the lake, the logs would be collected and chained together to form great rafts. several of these would be fastened behind each other and drawn by a small tug. on these rafts the men would build themselves little huts on which they would live, for it is slow work to get the logs from the forests to the mills. indeed it almost always takes one or two summers at least. sometimes instead of these stories, the men would sing rough songs that sounded out there in the wilds more weird and melancholy than they really were. sometimes they discussed the future of finland. there was one fellow among them to whom juhani loved to listen. he remembered long the man's reply to a particularly pessimistic statement. "our future depends on ourselves. have we not the sea? does it not stand for power and freedom? shame, i say, on those who do not see it!" things in camp went along quietly enough until near the end of the season, when two of the men had a fight which might have ended seriously had they not been separated in time, for both had drawn their _pukkos_ (knives). before juhani left for home the driver invited him to come on a trip much further east than they were stationed. his uncle consented. it gave juhani an opportunity to see the very primitive and wasteful agricultural methods that are still practiced in finland in out-of-the-way places, that of burning down the forest to fertilize the land. they spent the first night with the owner of a place on which this was done. he did his best to entertain them well. after they had had supper the family gathered around the big rude fireplace, and while the fire crackled and a drink of some kind was passed around the talk drifted to the future prospects of the country. then the peasant proprietor told of the time when the deposed tzar of russia, nicholas ii, through the manifesto of february fifteenth, , had tried to deprive finland of most of her independence. "i heard through my young son who had just returned from further south, that signatures for a petition to the tzar were being sought. 'they shall not lack mine,' i told my wife. it was bitterly cold even for one used to severe months of blinding snow, but i put on my skis and made my way through the dense forest in the face of a harsh wind, to the nearest settlement here i learned that a messenger gathering signatures had just left. without stopping for food or drink, i followed the direction he had taken through a frozen swamp and came up with him just before nightfall. and there, with nothing to be seen but snow around us, i signed the paper and returned to the settlement while he went on for another hour to the neighboring hamlet." "i know of a case to match that somewhat," said the driver. "after the tzar's manifesto, a well-to-do farmer, who lived too far away to go to helsingfors, wrote a petition himself to the tzar, had it signed by the family, servants and those nearest, and then forwarded it." here the old grandmother, an intelligent looking peasant woman, with a brown plaid shawl tightly pinned around her neck, took the lead in the conversation, harking back to older times when she had known elias lönnrot who made the folk songs he gathered into a whole as the great finnish epic, the "kalevala." this was evidently a favorite subject with her. "i was only a young girl," she said, "when he came as a physician to kajana, which is a place of which it was then said there were two streets, 'along one go pigs when it's wet, along the other the inhabitants when it's dry.' lönnrot was a strong fine fellow, very gentle. people used to say he would cry if he happened to kill a fly. he was rather careless about his clothes. i met him one day just as he was starting on one of his searches for folk songs. he was dressed like a peasant, with a short pipe in his mouth and a staff in his hand. a small flute hung from his button-hole, while a valise and gun were slung on his back. after he came back we spoke of nothing for weeks except his adventures. in one place he was taken for a tramp and found it impossible to secure any sort of vehicle to take him on his way. in another village the people thought him a wizard. they wouldn't give him any food. he remembered that an eclipse of the sun would take place that day. 'i'll make the sun die,' he said, 'if you don't attend to my wants.' the people laughed and hooted, but when the sun actually did disappear they were badly frightened and begged him on their knees to make it come back and brought him all kinds of good things to eat." "it seems to me," said her son reflectively, "that lönnrot published something else besides the 'kalevala.'" "indeed he did," said the grandmother quickly, proud of her knowledge, "why, i've taught you many a verse given in the _kanteletaar_ (the daughter of the kantele). it contains about seven hundred ancient songs and ballads." juhani and the driver were somewhat surprised at hearing all this at such a far off place. they would have gladly continued the conversation had it not been necessary to retire early to be prepared for the journey to the north on the morrow. chapter iv laplanders a heavy snow fell during the night. after they had had breakfast, juhani and the driver found two _pulkas_ (boat shaped sleighs) awaiting them. to each of these there was harnessed reindeer of a dark gray color, with huge branching antlers. there was only one rein for each of those in the _pulkas_ to hold. "notice the reindeer's foot," juhani's companion bade him. "see how broad and flexible it is. it is divided, too, and so spreads when it touches the snow." "how can i get the reindeer to stop?" asked juhani anxiously. "well, if you really need to stop and he refuses," replied the driver, "all you have to do is to fall out." their host wrapped furs around them as each took his place in one of the sleds hardly big enough to hold even one person. then while his wife held the deer, the farmer showed juhani how to wrap the rein properly around his wrist. this being managed, the wife let go, and they were off. the country through which they now passed was tiresomely flat and covered with small birch and fir trees. after they had gone some distance it began to snow in thick cloud-like masses and the wind began to blow the snow about as if in violent play. juhani did very well considering that this was his first reindeer ride. he managed to stay in the sled even when the reindeer bumped it hard against the trees. fortunately the deep furrows in the road helped steady the sleighs, and juhani began to feel proud of himself when finally the lapp settlement came into view. whether it was the sight of it or something else, juhani did not know, but just then the reindeer suddenly swerved in such a way that juhani was pitched out. he arose quickly and called to the reindeer to stop, but in vain. his companion was far ahead and so, somewhat angry and mortified, he made his way as best he could on foot the short distance still remaining. these lapp settlements in northern finland are few in number. it is said that there are not more than two thousand lapps in finland. the finnish word lapp or lappu means land-end folk. the lapps use another name for themselves; it is samelats and for their country, same. many of the lapps are fishermen, but there are also forest and mountain lapps. one wonders how they could get along without the reindeer, which furnishes them with milk, meat, and even clothing, besides drawing their sledges. because of these animals the lapps prefer the open country where reindeer moss is plentiful. when it is not found, the spruce tree serves as a substitute, and a very extravagant one, for nearly a hundred trees are needed yearly for one reindeer. when juhani came up, he found the whole village surrounding his friend, who laughing, advanced with a muscular, well-proportioned lapp to him. the lapp shook his hand and assured him gravely that no one thought the worse of him for the mishap. this lapp was dressed in a loose reindeer costume reaching below the knees and fitting closely about the throat. it was adorned with gay trimmings of blue and scarlet and yellow. on his feet were soft, pliable skin boots. he led them to the largest hut. juhani noticed the quarters of frozen reindeer meat hanging from the branches of the trees near it and also the buckets full of frozen reindeer milk. when they had entered, they seated themselves on the floor on skins and waited while snow was brought in, placed in a kettle over the fire, melted, and coffee made. this and food was soon placed before them. the latter consisted of reindeer meat, a kind of rye and barley bread, milk and a strong oily cheese. it tasted very good to juhani after his cold walk. when he had eaten enough to satisfy himself as well as his hospitable hosts, he was shyly invited to join in an outside game with a group of dark-skinned children with straight silky brown hair, broad flat faces and noses, and very round eyes compared to their elders. these children looked like funny little bears, wrapped as they were in fur. two of the boys carried wooden sticks which they drove into the snow. these were made so that a stone could rest on the top. each child tried his best to see how many of these he could knock off with snowballs in a given time. juhani found himself far behind his little friends. he was not so good a shot, and he lacked their quickness in making the balls. but he kept on trying. in the afternoon when it grew too dark and cold to remain longer out of doors (it was thirty degrees below zero), two of the children went with juhani into the unventilated hut, and sitting down near the fire took out their knives and began to carve. juhani watched the older of the two, a boy about his own age, and soon saw that he was making a running reindeer on the handle of a knife. great was his surprise next morning to have this presented him. the mother, in the meantime, had just laid down some reindeer intestines that she was making into gloves. "how many reindeer have you?" juhani asked the lapp boy. "oh, nearly a thousand," the latter answered carelessly. "what a number of uses you put them to! i wish you would tell me all of them." [illustration: "juhani was listening to the most marvelous tales"] the lapp boy smiled. "to tell all would take me all day. i will tell you a few though. we make butter and cheese from their milk, eat their flesh as food, make our beds and tents, of their skins; their tendons give us our thread and many of our eating utensils are made out of their antlers." "it must be much trouble to milk the reindeer every day," juhani remarked. "but we don't milk them every day," the lapp boy quickly put in. "only about twice a week. oftener it would certainly be much trouble." juhani wanted to know still more. "since the reindeer are loose, how can they find food when the ground is covered with snow several feet deep?" he asked. "they can smell it," returned the lapp. "they never make a mistake. as soon as they smell it, they scrape at the snow with their feet and nose until they get to it." after another meal all gathered still closer to the log fire to listen to news of the outside world. for a long time the woodman talked, and then, growing tired, he begged the lapp mother to tell some stories. this she did in the finnish language, which, like all the rest of her family, she spoke well. soon juhani was listening to the most marvelous tales, of giants as big as mountains with one enormous eye, of ugly witches that fly about like bats at night, and of frightful goblins that do much harm. then, changing her tone, she softly told the story of the goddess, _nyavvinna_, the kindly daughter of the sun, a being who first caught and tamed the reindeer and gave them to the lapps for their comfort and joy. "will you tell our fortune?" asked the woodman driver, eying her somewhat askance, when she had stopped. she smiled good naturedly at him, and going to a rude cabinet took from it a kind of drum by means of which she foretold a pleasant return journey on the morrow. juhani watched her with simple curiosity; his companion, however, was plainly uneasy, and when they were alone for a minute before lying down to sleep, he whispered, "awfully uncanny folks, these lapps are." the next morning, too, despite the kindly parting, it was plain to juhani that he was glad to get away. they had another exhilarating ride behind the reindeer. it had a delightful tang to it, a trace of wildness, to which something, even in juhani's stolid nature, responded. when they had left their sleds at the home of their finnish friends the driver grew talkative and told juhani many stories of other trips to lapland, one the summer before to this same family. he laughed when he thought of the children. "they would have had a pleasant time gathering berries," he said, "had it not been for the mosquitoes. there were so many of these that they had to wear a sort of mosquito net fastened around the waist. when they tore these or objected too much, their mother rubbed tar all over their hands and faces. my! but they did look funny then," and he laughed so heartily that juhani could not help but join him. the man had many other interesting things to tell, for his experiences had been varied. among other things he explained the old system still in use in parts of finland of getting tar, an important finnish industry. "those are fine tar trees," he said, when they had come to a clump of fir and larch. "nothing better. do you know how they work the thing? well, the wood, after being cut, is piled high on a big platform that slopes from all sides to the center where there is an opening into a vat underneath. this pile is covered over with a thick layer of earth and grass and then lit from below. it smolders for several days until the pile sinks and a flame springs up. when the tar begins to flow it is caught in barrels. shafts are afterwards attached to these barrels and they are then drawn by horses to the nearest water and loaded on boats for the coast. "these boats are built to shoot the rapids. there is no iron used in them, the fir planks being bound together with wooden fibers. they don't weigh much so that they give in to slight shocks. wood only three-fourths of an inch thick separates one from the water. the boats are about thirty by three feet, very long and narrow, you see, yet big enough to hold about twenty barrels, with high sides to keep out the foam. "i tell you it takes skill and nerve to steer one of these boats. the pilots have to have a license. besides the pilot, the crew generally consists of two men or a man and a woman. i wasn't much older than you are now when i first went in one. we started at kajana on the ulea river. my! how the boat did skim along! it seemed as free as a bird. i held my breath most of the time. and what a shock it was when it went plunk into the rapids which extend many miles! i'll never forget that first ride and the peculiar joy i felt at the danger. the last rapids are the pyhakoski or sacred rapids. they are twelve miles long, but the trip over them took us barely twenty minutes. here you can see the slope of the stream. every second you go faster. now you have to avoid a whirlpool, now a rock; sometimes both. i thought i'd just go deaf from the roar of the waters. when we reached smooth water again i thought i really was deaf, the silence was so overpowering." "what causes the rapids?" asked juhani. "it's the enormous bowlders," responded his companion. "the rapids are mighty pretty. i've seen our largest waterfall, too. it's in a narrow gorge at imatra and is sixty feet high. how many lakes make it, do you think? they say it is a thousand! there are always lots of tourists gazing at it and listening to its hissing and sputtering and roaring. when you first hear it you think there is a storm brewing. the spray is tossed thirty feet into the air and looks like a mass of rainbows." chapter v school school opened later that year than usual, to last until june. there was to be a vacation of three weeks at christmas with an occasional week in between, as well as on special days. two languages were studied by all the children, finnish and swedish instead of finnish and russian as might have been expected from finland's connection with russia. the teacher told the children that there had been a time when all schooling was swedish, the finnish tongue being considered too uncouth for culture. "happily," he would always add, "that time is past. it was unjust, for eighty-six per cent of the inhabitants are finns. we are now fully awake." all the children had manual training, the girls being taught cooking, sewing and darning, the boys woodwork and carpentry. the schoolhouse was surrounded by trees, and once a week, at least, the teacher talked of the necessity of conserving them. the teacher lived near the school in a furnished house provided by the country people. around it was enough grazing land for a cow. the people saw, too, that he always had a sufficient supply of firewood. when maja and juhani reached the schoolhouse on the first day they found all the names by which finland is sometimes known beautifully written on the blackboard. there were "strawberry land," "the land of a thousand lakes," "the land of a thousand heroes," "the land of a thousand isles," "marsh land," and "last born daughter of the sea." "this last name our country has earned," the master explained, "because it is in fact still rising out of the sea. as for 'land of a thousand lakes' that should rather be the 'land of many thousand lakes.' let all these names merely serve to remind you," he concluded, "of our duty to our country and our determination not to give up that freedom to which we feel ourselves entitled." the singing of the finnish national hymn followed: "our land, our finnish fatherland! ring out dear name and sound! no hill nor dale, nor sea-worn strand, nor lofty mountain whitely grand, there is more precious to be found that this--our fathers' ground."[ ] what juhani liked best at school that year perhaps, was his connection with the school paper. every saturday night the higher grades, beginning with the one in which he now was, met at the schoolhouse to consider original contributions to it. both poetry and prose were submitted, and also charades and plays. juhani won some praise for an article entitled "what we owe to the trees." in this he spoke of the vast number of trees in finland, but particularly of the uses to which they were put. "the birch is one of our best friends. i may not wear birch shoes but many peasants do. from its twigs we make brooms and bath whisks; from its bark, baskets and cups. its blocks are fed to our locomotives and steamboats, and its leaves provide food for our cattle. in time of need, when crops fail, we even make bread from its bark." once a month came guest day and the children worked hard to do themselves and the teacher credit, for then the fathers, mothers and friends invited had the right to ask the pupils questions. an entertainment was always provided; sometimes there were tableaux, sometimes a play. these were always followed by refreshments. this year, at the first of these nights, juhani was honored by having an introductory recitation from the finnish poet topelius. a part of it is: "on the world's farthest peopled strand fate gave to us a fatherland, the last where man his foot has set, daring the north pole's threat; the last and wildest stretch of earth where europe's genius built a hearth; the last and farthest flung outpost 'gainst night and death and frost." a boy, somewhat younger, followed this with a stirring recitation about a thick-headed peasant hero who, with a small troop, was placed to defend a bridge. all but five of this troop were killed and the order was given to return. the dull peasant leader did not understand and remained at his post alone until help came, when he died with a bullet in his heart. then came the most effective part of the program. a girl, a pupil in one of the higher grades, appeared dressed in the traditional dress of a certain portion of finland, consisting of a white loose blouse and short full embroidered skirt. there was also a bodice and a colored fringed apron. she carried a _kantele_, a stringed instrument whose music is of a monotonous and rather melancholy tone. this served as the accompaniment to two or three folk songs, which she half sang, half recited in a way that brought forth special applause. coffee and cakes, carefully prepared by the members of the cooking classes, were then served, after which games were played and riddles given. among the latter was maja's favorite: "what can't speak yet tells the truth?" answer.--scales. the next guest night was devoted entirely to the "kalevala," that wonderful national epic made up of the folk songs gathered by elias lönnrot. it began with a tableau in which was seen _wäinämöinen_, the ancient bard of the poem, "renowned for singing and magic"; _ilmarinen_, the children's favorite hero, a wonderful smith; _kullervo_, the wicked shepherd, whose hand was against every man's; the jolly, reckless _lemminkainen_, and _louhi_, the mistress of pohjola (the north) and her beautiful, much sought after daughter, the rainbow maiden. this was followed by the reading of a passage describing _wäinämöinen's_ playing, "all the birds that fly in mid-air fell like snow flakes from the heavens, flew to hear the minstrel's playing hear the harp of _wäinämöinen_." then came the description of how the eagle, the swans, the tiny finches and the fish, and all within hearing, were affected by the magic harp music. the curtain dropped and rolled up again to show the meeting of _wäinämöinen_ and his envious rival _youkahainen_, who wishes to fight. the tableau changed before the audience into an act in which _wäinämöinen's_ magic singing causes his rival to sink helplessly into quicksand, and in which he refuses every ransom _youkahainen_ offers, until it comes to _youkahainen's_ beauteous sister. one of the pupils now read the parts from the "kalevala" describing the various tasks that the heroes were called on to perform: the forging of the magic _sampo_, a coin, corn, and salt mill which could grind out good fortune for whoever had it; the capturing of the elk of hiisi; the bridling of the fire-breathing horse, and others. last the teacher himself took the platform to call the attention of the audience to the beautiful expressions of mother love scattered throughout. he showed how even the wise _wäinämöinen_ thought first of his mother when in distress: "if my mother were now breathing she would surely truly tell me how i might best bear this trouble," and how the mother love of the hot-headed _lemminkainen_ rescues him from death. it was not always easy for juhani and maja to get to school, yet it was rarely that they or any of the other pupils were absent. often the only light they had going and coming was that thrown up by the snow. sometimes, however, the remarkable northern lights (the aurora borealis) helped the sun in its labors. they grew all the sturdier, too, for having to face wild weather. all the pupils came to school on skis, made of long narrow pieces of wood with a leather strip in the center through which one merely slipped the foot, so that in falling the foot was released. the front end was pointed and curved upward. it does not take long to go a good distance on skis. juhani could go seven miles an hour on his. there were always rows of skis at the school door, some large, some small, for the proper length depends on the height of the individual. to find it one stands with arms extended above one's head. the skis must reach from the ground to the raised fingertips. at home one of the older children's duties was to teach a young brother or sister how to use skis. it was not unusual to see even three-year old babes on them. at five years most of them could be trusted alone. the first lesson was one of balance. one foot was placed in advance, the knees bent with the body forward. this was followed by making the first step. sometimes, during vacation days, there were ski races, but these were forgotten when in the latter part of november announcement was made of a ski jumping contest to be held in the nearest village. the age limit kept the smaller boys from all hope of taking part, but they at once organized a ski jumping contest of their own. juhani was the youngest admitted even here. "no, i've never tried jumping," he confessed when asked, "but i know that i can do it." at the first meeting of the schoolboys he had an opportunity to show what he could do. he advanced with something like a swagger, made a good jump but landed in a heap instead of on his feet. his companions, who knew that there was something to learn, all shouted, "the cow cannot climb a hill! the cow cannot climb a hill!" which is an old proverb, and means that one cannot perform a feat beyond his ability. juhani picked himself up, shut his lips tightly together, and tried again and again until he could outdistance many of the boys. when the day of the great contest came everybody who could went to see the sport. a strong little platform had been built on the side of a hill near the town. from this the contestants were to spring. there were six competitors. one especially seemed to have won favor beforehand, not because he was better looking than the others, for he was not, but probably because of the merry good humor in his eyes. [illustration: "waving his arms to keep his balance, jumped far forward"] the signal came to start. first came a stalwart, serious-faced youth who jumped over sixty feet, landed on his feet, and raced down the hill. after him followed three others, all of whom jumped between sixty-five and seventy-five feet. the fifth rushed after them, jumping seventy-nine feet, but failing to land on his feet. last came the popular youth. he glanced around until he met the gaze of a little old lady in the crowd. then he smiled and waved his hat to her, ran up on the platform, doubled up his legs, which he kept close together, and then waving his arms to keep his balance, jumped far forward. a shout of applause burst forth as he landed on his feet and raced down the hill. this increased still more when it was learned that he had out-distanced all the others, his jump being over eighty feet. the last day of the term at school the children had a big christmas tree. it was decorated with russian and finnish flags and candles and with sweets for all hanging from its branches. there were many visitors, for on this day prizes were to be awarded to the most deserving pupils. no one knew for certain to whom the chief prizes were to go, but there were often clever guesses. in juhani's grade, however, a murmur of surprise was heard when the name of the winner was announced. an unusually shy youth stepped forward awkwardly. juhani remembered him as a poor boy who had entered that term. he remembered also how hard at first he had found the studies, then how he improved by degrees until he ranked with the best. the teacher, in making the presentation, dwelt on the virtue of such perseverance and then invited the visitors to ask him any questions in his late studies that they desired. several were eager to do this, much to the lad's embarrassment. but no sooner did he begin to answer than the embarrassment vanished, and he surprised all present by the clearness of his replies. at the conclusion the teacher said: "this year we have for good reasons departed from our usual custom of presenting some book to be treasured by the winner. instead we present to this deserving pupil a certain amount of money with only one stipulation, that he spend it in things that will most help him in his future studies." "what will most help me in my future studies," the pupil responded, after some words of thanks, "will be the thought that my mother is more comfortable. so i accept this gladly if you have no objection to my giving it all at once to her." the applause of all present showed their consent, and after an enquiring look at his teacher he walked up to a poorly-dressed woman who sat at the very rear of the room and whose eyes filled with tears as she took the money from his hands. the younger children were not the only ones provided with schooling. in the nearest village to juhani's home an adult school had been recently established by a big association called the society for popular education. one half of the time each day was devoted to hand work, one half to easy conversational lessons in history, literature, science or any other study that appealed to the particular group gathered together. all social classes were represented in this school. there were sons of peasants, servants, shop-keepers. some of the teachers were paid; others volunteered their services to help make life more pleasant and useful for their fellowmen. among the latter was a rich neighbor who had just finished a course in one of the big agriculture schools of the country and was looking forward to having a farm of her own. another teacher was plainly a university student, for she wore the regulation student cap, on which a golden lyre was embroidered. much of the social life of this community centered about this school. the people came not only to study and learn but also to enjoy as a relief from hard daily work the companionship of others. footnote: [ ] by the finnish poet, j. l. runeberg, from the translation by anna krook. chapter vi the december vacation long before the coldest weather came, everything was made ready for a six or eight months' winter. the double windows were surrounded by cotton wool and gummed paper to keep out the draughts. the open rafters of the kitchen now served as a store room. from them hung dried fish, smoked pork, and even several weeks' supply of rye bread in large hard cakes with a hole in the middle of each. as soon as the december holidays came, parties at neighboring houses followed each other in quick succession. sometimes these were ski-ing parties of school children with the teacher in charge. sometimes the older folks gathered, and sometimes whole families. there was always a dinner, and almost always dancing and the playing of games. one day juhani's whole family went to the home of a friend who lived fully ten miles distant. it was only about nine in the morning when they started in two low sleighs. the air was crisp and so still that it did not seem to stir, the sky intensely blue, as they hurried over snow-covered roads, past many forests, each tree bright in its pearly gown; past two farms whose buildings looked strikingly red and bare against their white background. as they neared their destination, a bright-looking boy, accompanied by a kind of wolf hound, raced up on his skis to meet them. "you're just in time," he shouted when sufficiently near, "to help me make a fox trap. an old scamp of a fox has been after our chickens and i mean to get him." "where are you going to set the trap?" called back juhani eagerly. "i'm going to show you," responded the other, and as juhani dismounted from the sleigh, the two made their way to some distance back of the barn. here juhani's friend had everything ready. first he drove a long stake into the ground. this stake was forked at the end with the central prong the longest. "feel the edges," he said to juhani. juhani did so and almost cut his finger. the edges were as sharp as knives. "i don't understand yet," he said, putting his hand up to his mouth, "how that can catch a fox." "wait," returned his friend, and running to the barn he soon returned with bait which he placed at the top. "the old fellow will jump at that," he explained, "and catch his paw between the prongs. you bet it'll hold him fast, too. there are a lot of them around," he continued as they made their way to the house, "and we're a good deal put out by them. grandfather says, however, that it is nothing to the time when father first moved here. then there were wolves and bears. i'd like to meet a bear. do you remember the lines: 'otso apple of the forest with thy honey paws so curving'? grandfather says that they used to use charms to help them when they went hunting. do you know what he likes to talk about better than bear hunting? it's seal shooting; perhaps because he did it only once. it wasn't here, of course, but on the frozen sea. he says he lay flat on a sled in front of which he had fastened a white sail so that the seal would take it for a part of the ice around. he pushed the sled with his feet, and, when near enough, shot." "that was when he was a fisherman," conjectured juhani. his friend laughed. "please don't use the past tense in regard to him. why, he's still a fisherman. only last year he had a fishing adventure that would make some people's hair rise. you look as if you didn't believe. come, i'll get him to tell you about it." they found the old man sitting in a sunny workroom mending a basket. he was quite ready to talk. "i don't belong here," he said, "but to the east end of the gulf. you say that you want to hear what happened last spring. well, a whole camp of us went out together to fish through the ice. that's done every year. we took tents and firewood and food and expected to stay a long time. it was all right for a while and we got a lot of fish. but the spring thaw came earlier than we expected; we had fellows watching, but they were careless, and the first thing we knew the ice had cracked and i and one other were carried out to sea on a great ice floe. our companions saw us when we were about twelve yards away, but they couldn't do anything for they hadn't any boats. we couldn't do anything but let the wind and wave carry us wherever they wished. i had a bottle of rum in my pocket and a big hunk of hard bread. my companion had nothing but a plug of tobacco. these three things we divided and lived on for two days. at last we drifted to firm ice, from which, stiff as we were, we managed to make our way to the mainland." "you don't expect to go this year, do you?" asked juhani. "yes, i do. right after the holidays. why shouldn't i?" asked the old man sharply. "i wasn't drowned, was i?" right here they were fortunately called into the house. when they reached it, juhani at once noticed that it was some one's name day, for the doors were prettily decorated with boughs. a big meal awaited them indoors, and here juhani found that the decorations were in honor of the mother for her chair was also wreathed. he at once went up to her and offered his congratulations, which the other members of his family had had a chance to do before. a long time was spent at the table. when the meal was finished each person went up to the host and hostess, shook hands with them and said "tack," thank you. juhani's friend next took him for a visit to the farm's carpenter shop, where he showed him the posts and gates he was making. "are you going to have the shoemaker come to your place this year?" he asked. "we expect him here next week to make us enough shoes to last the year through. the tailor isn't coming till january. two weeks ago we had the harness maker; i had to help him, and i tell you, i'm glad the harness is mended." here he thought of something else with which to entertain his guest. "why, you haven't seen my new toboggan slide. let's go quick." they stopped at the barn to get a sled and then had several merry rides down a short but steep hill. this was followed by snow-balling and fancy ski jumping until time to bid each other good-by. a few days following this pleasant visit, juhani, maja and the older sister attended a "riddle evening" at the home of a much nearer neighbor. here quite a number of young people were gathered, each trying to be called the master riddle guesser. whoever couldn't answer three riddles in succession had to play the fool. he was seated in a chair in the middle of the room. one of the girls handed over her embroidered apron and it was tied around his waist. another took off the kerchief around her neck and it was put on his head. still another lent her glass beads. a saucer was then held over a candle flame until soot collected and with this his face was painted. the jolly company circled around him jeering and then forming a procession solemnly escorted him from the room and bade him study out the answers that he had not been able to guess. chapter vii christmas week several days before christmas, the whole farmhouse was scrubbed and cleaned, while bread was baked and ale brewed. [illustration: "she carried out a basket filled with crumbs and grain"] on christmas eve little maja scattered clean straw on all the floors. "don't forget the birds," her older sister cautioned her. "as if i would!" responded maja. nodding to juhani, who stood by the door, she carried out a basket filled with crumbs and grain for the wild birds and animals. juhani soon followed her with a sheaf of corn, which he placed where it would be sure to attract. "you haven't forgotten, have you, juhani," said maja somewhat breathlessly as they stood together, "that they all can speak to-night?" juhani nodded and was silent for a moment. it always took him some time to get stirred up enough to talk. then he said slowly, "i've put some of the food near the door, for 'tis said that if you listen behind it at night you'll be able to understand what they say. don't tell, but i'm going to listen. wouldn't it be hunky if i found out some secret?" "oh, then i must listen, too!" exclaimed maja. but her brother did not like the idea. "we'd be found out sure if you did," he said. "better let me do it alone and i'll tell you about it to-morrow,--before i tell any one else." maja reluctantly agreed, and the two went indoors where they separated, each to wrap up presents that they had made and to write the name of the recipient together with an appropriate verse or sentence on an attached paper. these were placed in the front room from which they mysteriously disappeared while the family were having their supper of rice porridge and _lut fisk_ (stock fish), prepared in a way peculiar to the country. after supper all seated themselves near the big stove and were very still with their eyes on the door. presently a loud knock came. "welcome! welcome!" every one shouted. the door opened and father christmas dressed as a yule goat entered. he carried a basket filled with gifts, and as he took one after another up he first read the recipient's name, then the attached verse, some of which were so funny that they caused much laughter. no one was left out. the servants, who were all present, smiled happily at having been remembered so generously, and even the big dog came in for his share which was a piece of meat wrapped securely in paper. when bed time came, the children prepared to go to sleep on straw in memory of the christ child. maja looked regretfully after juhani, who had received permission from his mother to have the straw for him placed that night on the kitchen floor. in the morning all rose early, maja and juhani running into the front room to see "heaven," a framework hung from the ceiling and made up of threads and yarn and straws and decorated with gilt stars. it was lit by a candle and seemed very beautiful to both of them, much to the satisfaction of the older sister, who had followed them, and whose work it was. long before six o'clock a visit had been paid to all the farm animals, and a supply of food and some dainty given each. candles were then placed in all the windows, and putting on their heavy coats, their caps with ear flappers, and their heavy boots, they all piled into sleighs and were off to church. it was very dark much of the way. indeed it would be fortunate if the sun shone for five or six hours before night. they did not mind the dark, for they were not alone. from all sides people came, either on skis or in sleighs. after the service there was a race of skis and sleighs homewards over the frozen lake in eager anticipation of the christmas dinner, whose chief dish, maja whispered to juhani, was to be a big ham. it was not until they were home again that she found a chance to corner juhani by himself and demand eagerly: "what did they say?" juhani looked curiously at her. "i listened last night," he said slowly, "for a long time but i didn't hear any animal or bird speak." then, seeing maja's disappointed face, he added quickly, "there are other things one can do. you know esko's grandmother. well, she once saw a great assembly of snakes on a hill near impivaare. she knows all about snakes. she says that if you can kill an old adder and eat him just before the first cuckoo, ever after that you'll understand the language of birds and know all sorts of things." maja shuddered. "you wouldn't do that, would you?" she asked appealingly. juhani looked at her for a moment, and then, unable to withstand the temptation to tease her, said, "why not?" and ran away. before new year's with its special significance came, a guest arrived from helsingfors. it was juhani and maja's aunt, a woman who had achieved some renown in the capital as an architect. they enjoyed her vivid descriptions of how the snow there was daily shoveled from the pavements, and how when you step on what remains it screams: "a hard winter! a hard winter!" "we haven't gone in for as much ice yachting as usual," she remarked, rather sadly, the children thought. "the times are too unsettled." "tell us about the yachting," urged maja, seeing the look of interest in juhani's face, and knowing his slowness in asking for what he wanted. "i know nothing more thrilling," the aunt returned, smiling, "than lying flat on your stomach on an ice yacht in motion. the yacht may take little leaps so that at times it seems to you as if it were about to fly. then you rush madly at something and prepare yourself surely for a smash, but just in time the yacht swerves and you are safe to fly some more. in a sense you do fly, for when the wind is strong the yacht is sometimes lifted high into the air. when it comes down you feel as if the world were coming to an end. it would have been fine for ice yachting this year, for we had black ice." "what is that?" asked maja. "i know," broke in juhani unexpectedly. "it is when the ice forms before snow falls." his aunt nodded. "yes; then the water looks like a mirror and it is much smoother than when covered with snow." "did you come direct from helsingfors?" asked lilja after a pause. "no," replied the aunt. "i had to go first to viborg." and she described to them the famous saima canal, one of the many canals of the country which starts from there. it is built of finnish granite and took eleven years to complete. "it goes," she said, "to saima lake, called the lake of a thousand islands, the most important lake of finland. this lake is about three hundred feet above the sea level, so that the vessels on the canal have to be raised by locks. there are at least twenty-eight of these. i once saw three steamers on it and they looked as if they were walking up stairs. we mustn't forget that this canal is one of the good things that we owe to the russians. it probably would not have been constructed but for the interest of tzar nicolas i, during whose reign it was begun. viborg seems to be made up of russian soldiers, which of course is no wonder, since it is the nearest town to the russian frontier." she seemed inclined to say more but evidently thought better of it for she changed the conversation. "some friends with whom i had dinner at viborg told me a story that will interest you. it was regarding a relative that they called pekka (peter) and who for a while lived in the castle of olafsborg in the quaint town of nyslott. it happened in this way. he came to nyslott to attend the musical festival held there in the summer. the town was crowded and he despaired of getting a bed when he ran across an acquaintance to whom he told his troubles. "'unfortunately,' said the latter, 'i am a stranger here. i don't know a person,--except the watchman who has charge of the castle.' "the relative is of a somewhat romantic turn of mind. 'excellent!' he said. 'just the thing. let's go over at once and hire a room from the watchman.' "'do you mean,' said his acquaintance incredulously, 'that you're willing to stay in a ruined castle--probably haunted--all night?' "but the young man was stubborn, and the two secured a boat and rowed over to the castle. nyslott is built on islands but the castle has one of its own. when they landed they found the watchman, who, after some hesitation, offered the stranger his own room, which was in a separate little building put up for his benefit. "but pekka would not have it so. 'i'd rather you'd fix me up something in the castle itself.' the watchman thought this a joke and proposed that they wander through the building to find a place that would suit. "so they started. everything looked very ancient, for the castle dates back to . they went through queer passages where the walls were sometimes fifteen feet thick, under arches, up winding stairs, down again, into cellars and dungeons and ruined chambers. at last they came to the hall of knights, a long, dimly lighted room. the walls had fallen here to enclose partly a little space that was still roofed over. "'this shall be my lodging place,' declared the young man. 'are you serious?' asked the watchman. "'i certainly am,' answered pekka, putting some money in the watchman's hand. the watchman thought for a while. 'i shall have to see the authorities,' he said at last. "'i'll wait here,' said pekka, and wait he did. "when the guardian of the place returned he was all smiles. 'all right,' he said and set to work clearing the space. then he brought rugs and a big fur coat on which the man could sleep. "the weather was warm and the bed couldn't have been very uncomfortable, for pekka stayed there three nights. he declared afterwards that he dreamt wonderful dreams of the time when three races, the swedes, the russians and the finns, struggled for the possession of this spot. one night he awoke shouting: 'the enemy! the enemy!' and then found that the invaders were only some of the many bats, who thought that they had a better right than he to this castle home." here the aunt brought forth some interesting photographs which she had taken at helsingfors. one was an active scene at the open air market when the autumn sailing fleet came to sell winter provisions. it showed the peasant carts and the bright stalls covered with white awnings and blue umbrellas, the market women in gay attire, the butchers in bright pink coats or blouses, and the boats laden with fruit and vegetables, kegs of salted fish, and honey. there was also a picture taken earlier in the year, showing one of the principal harbors with crafts of every shape and size. there were enormous passenger boats, little market boats rowed by bare-armed women, small pleasure yachts, big timber ships with red brown sails, and a group of white russian war vessels. she had pictures, too, in which the older members of the family were interested, showing two very distinct styles of architecture to be found in helsingfors. one was of a group of fine modern buildings on a broad street called the myntgatan. they were of gray stone, six or seven stories high, dignified and well proportioned, with carefully selected classical decorations. in contrast to this, she produced photographs of other buildings of decided finnish individuality. these buildings showed great variety, being of rough granite or brick, with tiled roofs, unusual balconies and porticos, fantastic plaster decorations, such as a group of frogs, a procession of swimming swans, a bunch of carrots and turnips, or a savage animal head. another group of pictures showed the types of work done by helsingfors women. in one of these a number of women were cleaning the streets, using immense brooms for the sweeping. in one, they were washing clothes on platforms built out into the sea. in still another, several stood on a scaffold, plastering a house, while three others were at work constructing a door. of all the pictures maja liked best a view of the statue of runeberg, the national poet, showing how it was decorated with flowers and laurels on the anniversary of his birthday. juhani was attracted more particularly to a picture of a magnificent horse harnessed to a sleigh, his loins covered with a cloak coming far down to keep out the cold. the aunt presented these to the children. "our people are kind to their horses," she said to juhani; then turning to maja: "on runeberg's birthday not only is his statue in the square decorated, but all houses are lit up to show he is remembered, while in every restaurant people give festal dinners in his honor." then the aunt brought forth something that the children appreciated still more than the pictures. it was a sort of cake, especially peculiar to viborg, made in the form of a lover's knot, and it had been baked on straw, some of which still stuck to the bottom. chapter viii summer time in april the melting snow and ice showed that spring was on the way. how dirty and muddy it was everywhere! instead of skis, the children had to wade to school in well greased boots. new kinds of festivities took the place of the old. at easter time eggs were painted and the family feasted on _memma_, a dish of boiled sweetened malt, eaten with cream and sugar. on the first of may big swings were erected in the grove near the church and there the people gathered from a considerable distance, the children to swing and frolic, and their elders to listen to the singing of runes, some so ancient that the meaning was no longer plain, or to speeches welcoming the return of spring. "let's play! let's play!" the children shouted as if they hadn't also played in the winter. play they did. sometimes it was "last pair out." in this the boys and girls formed pairs and stood behind each other. at a signal the last couples separated, each going on different sides of the line and trying to unite in front before being caught by the one who was "it." they danced "to-day is the first of may" in a double circle, and the "ring dance" to which they sang: my love is like a strawberry, so red and sweet is she: and no one else may swing her round, no one else 'cept me. there was one little girl who was quite a leader in the games. perhaps the reason was the enthusiastic way in which she played. she seemed to have two favorites: "hide and seek," in which the children counted out to see who was to be "it," and "wolf." both boys and girls played the latter as they did most of the other games. juhani was the first to be the "wolf," to the apparent joy of the leader, who took particular delight in teasing and escaping from him until he just ran her down and caught her. maja did not play this. she had found some children younger than herself whom she joined in making miniature farms out of stones and sand. the first building which she erected was not the dwelling-house but the _sauna_ or bath-house. then followed the other farm buildings, and last the cattle had stones carefully selected for them. the spring, ushered in with such hearty welcome, went with a surprising swiftness, and summer arrived with intense blue skies and floods of sunshine and flowers. this was the time of the white nights,--a happy holiday time,--when the sun shines for more than eighteen hours at a time and for the remainder of the twenty-four leaves generously its reflection behind. [illustration: "wound colored yarn around the rye stalks"] during this springtime weather maja saw that there were fresh wild flowers--pansies, lilies of the valley, lilacs, or wild roses--daily in the living-room. she loved the spring particularly for these. "how i love the flowers!" she would exclaim enthusiastically to juhani whenever she found a new one. juhani would smile slowly, look thoughtfully into the distance, and after a pause return: "i like the spring for many things, but best i think for the change in the forest." maja knew that he meant the new bits of sunshine everywhere and the new growth of needles that glistened so green against the background of the dark pines, and all the new bird calls to be heard there. in june the schools closed, and for a while nothing was talked of but the preparations for the great midsummer festival to be held on june twenty-fourth, john the baptist day. there seemed no end of things to be done to show gladness. maja wove garlands of flowers, while juhani and his friends cut down great branches of birch trees in the forest, with which to decorate the houses. lilja and her girl friends were also busy. they went to the fields and wound colored yarn around the rye stalks, arranging them to indicate joy and sorrow, love and hate. before the grain was harvested these marked stalks would be found and the year's fortune foretold according to which was highest. big bonfires, called _kokko_, were lit on all the highest points, and also on rafts on the lake in honor of the sun. these were kept burning for twenty-four hours, for it is considered unlucky for them to go out sooner. around these the people gathered to dance, many of them coming from a distance in farm carts trimmed with birch and filled with hay. there was a feast, too, of warm soup, cold salmon, and fancy cakes. the swings must not be forgotten. several of them had been erected and not merely for the children. on some, young men and women swung together, while they sang the beautiful melancholy songs about this beautiful fleeting time. during this season tourists invaded the country districts, some on their way to aavasaksa hill where the sun can then be seen at midnight, shedding gray, faintly luminous rays. among those who came were many russians of the wealthy and middle classes. it was not all play. there was much, very much hard work in which the children all had their set tasks. juhani had to drive the cattle through the woodlands, assist lilja with the milking, and help make hay. maja had to gather berries, of which there was a great abundance. it is true there were compensations for all these tasks. if children had to gather berries, they could also eat big bowls of them with thick cream added, at every meal. some of the berries maja gathered she sold to passengers on the lake steamers. when she intended doing so, she made birch baskets for them by stripping off a foot square of bark and bending it into the shape of a box without a lid, then sewing the sides with twigs. she had also to gather sacks full of _luikku_, a soft white cotton flower with an odd perfume, to be used for stuffing the family pillows. although it was vacation there was one school task that all the children had to do or cared to do. it was gathering, pressing, and mounting as many as possible of the numerous wild flowers everywhere found in the woods and fields. the best presented at the beginning of the school term were always put on exhibition. the only disagreeable part of the warm weather was the annoyance from mosquitoes. this made it necessary to light smoldering fires for the protection of the cattle who seemed to appreciate the fires, for without being driven they would cluster around them. twigs of juniper were burned in the house for the same purpose. it was not always easy to get juniper, for it grows only in clay soil and maja and her friends sometimes had a long tramp after it. once, remembering the story of the lapp children, juhani smeared tar all over his face and hands and then teased maja by threatening to put some on her too. after july, the long magic days grew shorter, and when the days and nights were again almost equal, the children found themselves planning what they would do when school reopened. the end selections from l. c. page & company's books for young people the blue bonnet series _each large mo, cloth decorative, illustrated, per volume_ $ . _the seven volumes, boxed as a set_ . =a texas blue bonnet= by caroline e. jacobs. =blue bonnet's ranch party= by caroline e. jacobs and edyth ellerbeck read. =blue bonnet in boston= by caroline e. jacobs and lela horn richards. =blue bonnet keeps house= by caroline e. jacobs and lela horn richards. =blue bonnet--dÃ�butante= by lela horn richards. =blue bonnet of the seven stars= by lela horn richards. =blue bonnet's family= by lela horn richards. "blue bonnet has the very finest kind of wholesome, honest, lively girlishness and cannot but make friends with every one who meets her through these books about her."--_chicago inter-ocean._ "blue bonnet and her companions are real girls, the kind that one would like to have in one's home."--_new york sun._ the henrietta series by lela horn richards _each one volume, mo, illustrated_ $ . =only henrietta= "it is an inspiring story of the unfolding of life for a young girl--a story in which there is plenty of action to hold interest and wealth of delicate sympathy and understanding that appeals to the hearts of young and old."--_pittsburgh leader._ =henrietta's inheritance= "one of the most noteworthy stories for girls issued this season. the life of henrietta is made very real, and there is enough incident in the narrative to balance the delightful characterization."--_providence journal._ stories by i. m. b. of k. _each one volume, mo, illustrated_ $ . =the young knight= the clash of broad-sword on buckler, the twanging of bow-strings and the cracking of spears splintered by whirling maces resound through this stirring tale of knightly daring-do. =the young cavaliers= "there have been many scores of books written about the charles stuarts of england, but never a merrier and more pathetic one than 'the young cavaliers.'"--_family herald._ =the king's minstrel= "the interesting situations are numerous, and the spirit of the hero is one of courage, devotion and resource."--_columbus dispatch._ "it is told with spirit and action."--_buffalo express._ "the story will please all those who read it, and will be of particular interest for the boys for whom it was intended. it is a tale of devotion to an ideal of service and as such will appeal to youth."--_portage register-democrat._ "there is a lofty ideal throughout, some court intrigue, a smattering of the decadence of the old church heads, and a readable story."--_middletown press._ the boys' story of the railroad series by burton e. stevenson _each large mo, cloth decorative, illustrated_, $ . =the young section-hand=; or, the adventures of allan west. "the whole range of section railroading is covered in the story."--_chicago post._ =the young train dispatcher= "a vivacious account of the varied and often hazardous nature of railroad life."--_congregationalist._ =the young train master= "it is a book that can be unreservedly commended to anyone who loves a good, wholesome, thrilling, informing yarn."--_passaic news._ =the young apprentice=; or, allan west's chum. "the story is intensely interesting."--_baltimore sun._ the days of chivalry series of worth while classics for boys and girls _revised and edited for the modern reader_ _each large mo, illustrated and with a poster jacket in full color_ $ . =the days of chivalry= by w. h. davenport adams. =the chaplet of pearls= by c. m. yonge. =erling the bold= by r. m. ballantyne. =winning his knighthood=; or, the adventures of raoulf de gyssage. by h. turing bruce. "tales which ring to the clanking of armour, tales of marches and counter-marches, tales of wars, but tales which bring peace; a peace and contentment in the knowledge that right, even in the darkest times, has survived and conquered."--_portland evening express._ barbara winthrop series by helen katherine broughall _each one volume, cloth decorative, mo, illustrated_ $ . =barbara winthrop at boarding school= =barbara winthrop at camp= =barbara winthrop: graduate= =barbara winthrop abroad= "full of adventure--initiations, joys, picnics, parties, tragedies, vacation and all. just what girls like, books in which 'dreams come true,' entertaining 'gossipy' books overflowing with conversation."--_salt lake city deseret news._ "high ideals and a real spirit of fun underlie the stories. they will be a decided addition to the bookshelves of the young girl for whom a holiday gift is contemplated."--_los angeles saturday night._ doctor's little girl series by marion ames taggart each large mo, cloth, illustrated, per volume, $ . =the doctor's little girl= "a charming story of the ups and downs of the life of a dear little maid."--_the churchman._ =sweet nancy=: the further adventures of the doctor's little girl. "just the sort of book to amuse, while its influence cannot but be elevating."--_new york sun._ =nancy, the doctor's little partner= "the story is sweet and fascinating, such as many girls of wholesome tastes will enjoy."--_springfield union._ =nancy porter's opportunity= "nancy shows throughout that she is a splendid young woman, with plenty of pluck."--_boston globe._ =nancy and the coggs twins= "the story is refreshing."--_new york sun._ the peggy raymond series by harriet lummis smith _each one volume, cloth, decorative, mo, illustrated, per volume_ $ . =peggy raymond's success=; or, the girls of friendly terrace. "it is a book that cheers, that inspires to higher thinking; it knits hearts; it unfolds neighborhood plans in a way that makes one tingle to try carrying them out, and most of all it proves that in daily life, threads of wonderful issues are being woven in with what appears the most ordinary of material, but which in the end brings results stranger than the most thrilling fiction."--_belle kellogg towne in the young people's weekly, chicago._ =peggy raymond's vacation= "it is a clean, wholesome, hearty story, well told and full of incident. it carries one through experiences that hearten and brighten the day."--_utica, n. y., observer._ =peggy raymond's school days= "it is a bright, entertaining story, with happy girls, good times, natural development, and a gentle earnestness of general tone."--_the christian register, boston._ =peggy raymond's friendly terrace quartette= "the story is told in easy and entertaining style and is a most delightful narrative, especially for young people. it will also make the older readers feel younger, for while reading it they will surely live again in the days of their youth."--_troy budget._ =peggy raymond's way= "the author has again produced a story that is replete with wholesome incidents and makes peggy more lovable than ever as a companion and leader."--_world of books._ famous leaders series by charles h. l. johnston _each large mo, cloth decorative, illustrated, per volume_ (_unless otherwise stated_) $ . =famous cavalry leaders= "more of such books should be written, books that acquaint young readers with historical personages in a pleasant, informal way."--_new york sun._ =famous indian chiefs= "mr. johnston has done faithful work in this volume, and his relation of battles, sieges and struggles of these famous indians with the whites for the possession of america is a worthy addition to united states history."--_new york marine journal._ =famous scouts= "it is the kind of a book that will have a great fascination for boys and young men."--_new london day._ =famous privateersmen and adventurers of the sea= "the tales are more than merely interesting; they are entrancing, stirring the blood with thrilling force."--_pittsburgh post._ =famous frontiersmen and heroes of the border= "the accounts are not only authentic, but distinctly readable, making a book of wide appeal to all who love the history of actual adventure."--_cleveland leader._ =famous discoverers and explorers of america= "the book is an epitome of some of the wildest and bravest adventures of which the world has known."--_brooklyn daily eagle._ =famous generals of the great war= who led the united states and her allies to a glorious victory. "the pages of this book have the charm of romance without its unreality. the book illuminates, with life-like portraits, the history of the world war."--_rochester post express._ =famous american athletes of today= cloth mo, illustrated from specially autographed photographs $ . "from lindy to bobby jones, including helen and trudy, they are all here--and a right fine company they are. we are not acquainted with anyone who will not enjoy these fascinating stories of virile people."--_monthly book talk._ by edwin wildman =the founders of america= (lives of great americans from the revolution to the monroe doctrine) =the builders of america= (lives of great americans from the monroe doctrine to the civil war) =famous leaders of character= (lives of great americans from the civil war to today) =famous leaders of industry.=--first series =famous leaders of industry.=--second series "these biographies drive home the truth that just as every soldier of napoleon carried a marshal's baton in his knapsack, so every american youngster carries potential success under his hat."--_new york world._ by charles lee lewis _professor, united states naval academy, annapolis_ =famous american naval officers= with a complete index. "in connection with the life of john paul jones, stephen decatur, and other famous naval officers, he groups the events of the period in which the officer distinguished himself, and combines the whole into a colorful and stirring narrative."--_boston herald._ stories by evaleen stein _each one volume, mo, illustrated_ $ . =gabriel and the hour book= =a little shepherd of provence= =the christmas porringer= =the little count of normandy= =pepin: a tale of twelfth night= =children's stories= =the circus dwarf stories= =when fairies were friendly= =troubadour tales= "no works in juvenile fiction contain so many of the elements that stir the hearts of children and grown-ups as well as do the stories so admirably told by this author."--_louisville daily courier._ "evaleen stein's stories are music in prose--they are like pearls on a chain of gold--each word seems exactly the right word in the right place; the stories sing themselves out, they are so beautifully expressed."--_the lafayette leader._ minute boys series by james otis and edward stratemeyer _each one volume, cloth decorative, mo, fully illustrated, per volume_ $ . this series of books for boys needs no recommendation. we venture to say that there are few boys of any age in this broad land who do not know and love both these authors and their stirring tales. these books, as shown by their titles, deal with periods in the history of the development of our great country which are of exceeding interest to every patriotic american boy--and girl. places and personages of historical interest are here presented to the young reader in story form, and a great deal of real information is unconsciously gathered. =the minute boys of philadelphia= =the minute boys of boston= =the minute boys of new york city= =the minute boys of long island= =the minute boys of south carolina= =the minute boys of the wyoming valley= =the minute boys of the mohawk valley= =the minute boys of the green mountains= =the minute boys of bunker hill= =the minute boys of lexington= =the minute boys of yorktown= the young pioneer series by harrison adams _each mo, cloth decorative, illustrated, per volume_ $ . =the pioneer boys of the ohio=; or, clearing the wilderness. =the pioneer boys on the great lakes=; or, on the trail of the iroquois. =the pioneer boys of the mississippi=; or, the homestead in the wilderness. =the pioneer boys of the missouri=; or, in the country of the sioux. =the pioneer boys of the yellowstone=; or, lost in the land of wonders. =the pioneer boys of the columbia=; or, in the wilderness of the great northwest. =the pioneer boys of the colorado=; or, braving the perils of the grand canyon country. =the pioneer boys of kansas=; or, a prairie home in buffalo land. "such books as these are an admirable means of stimulating among the young americans of to-day interest in the story of their pioneer ancestors and the early days of the republic."--_boston globe._ "not only interesting, but instructive as well and shows the sterling type of character which these days of self-reliance and trial produced."--_american tourist, chicago._ "the stories are full of spirited action and contain much valuable historical information. just the sort of reading a boy will enjoy immensely."--_boston herald._ hildegarde-margaret series by laura e. richards eleven volumes the hildegarde-margaret series, beginning with "queen hildegarde" and ending with "the merryweathers," make one of the best and most popular series of books for girls ever written. _each large mo, cloth decorative, illustrated, per volume_ $ . _the eleven volumes boxed as a set_ $ . list of titles =queen hildegarde= =hildegarde's holiday= =hildegarde's home= =hildegarde's neighbors= =hildegarde's harvest= =three margarets= =margaret montfort= =peggy= =rita= =fernley house= =the merryweathers= honor bright series by laura e. richards _each one volume, cloth decorative, mo, illustrated_ $ . =honor bright= "this is a story that rings as true and honest as the name of the young heroine--honor--and not only the young girls, but the old ones will find much to admire and to commend in the beautiful character of honor."--_constitution, atlanta, ga._ =honor bright's new adventure= "girls will love the story and it has plot enough to interest the older reader as well."--_st. louis daily globe-democrat._ delightful books for little folks by laura e. richards =three minute stories= _cloth decorative, mo, with eight plates in full color and many text illustrations_ $ . 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"a mighty attractive volume in which the owner may record the good times she has on decorated pages, and under the directions as it were of annie fellows johnston."--_buffalo express._ the sandman series each large mo, cloth decorative, illustrated, per volume $ . by william j. hopkins =the sandman=: his farm stories. "mothers and fathers and kind elder sisters who take the little ones to bed and rack their brains for stories will find this book a treasure."--_cleveland leader._ =the sandman=: more farm stories. "children will call for these stories over and over again."--_chicago evening post._ =the sandman=: his ship stories. "little ones will understand and delight in the stories and their parents will read between the lines and recognize the poetic and artistic work of the author."--_indianapolis news._ =the sandman=: his sea stories. 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"the simplicity of the stories and the fascinating manner in which they are written make them an excellent night-cap for the youngster who is easily excited into wakefulness."--_pittsburgh leader._ =the sandman=: his kittycat stories. "the sandman is a wonderful fellow. first he told farm stories, then ship stories, then sea stories. and now he tells stories about the kittens and the fun they had in kittycat town. a strange thing about these kittens is the ability to talk, work and play like boys and girls, and that is why all of the little tots will like the sandman's book."--_pittsburgh chronicle telegraph._ =the sandman=: his bunny stories. "the whole book is filled with one tale after another and is narrated in such a pleasing manner as to reach the heart of every child."--_common sense, chicago._ =the sandman=: his puppy stories. another volume of mr. frees' inimitable stories for tiny tots, this time about the "doggie mothers who lived with their puppies" on the other side of kitty-way lane in animal land. the illustrations are from photographs posed by the author with the same appeal which has characterized his previous pictures. by w. s. phillips (el comancho) =the sandman=: his indian stories. the indian tales for this celebrated series of children's bedtime stories have been written by a man who has indian blood, who spent years of his life among the redmen, in one of the tribes of which he is an honored member, and who is an expert interpreter of the indian viewpoint and a practised authority on indians as well as a master teller of tales. the marjory-joe series by alice e. allen _each one volume, cloth decorative, mo, illustrated, per volume_ $ . =joe, the circus boy and rosemary= these are two of miss allen's earliest and most successful stories, combined in a single volume to meet the insistent demands from young people for these two particular tales. =the martie twins=: continuing the adventures of joe, the circus boy "the chief charm of the story is that it contains so much of human nature. it is so real that it touches the heart strings."--_new york standard._ =marjory, the circus girl= a sequel to "joe, the circus boy," and "the martie twins." =marjory at the willows= continuing the story of marjory, the circus girl. "miss allen does not write impossible stories, but delightfully pins her little folk right down to this life of ours, in which she ranges vigorously and delightfully."--_boston ideas._ =marjory's house party=: or, what happened at clover patch "miss allen certainly knows how to please the children and tells them stories that never fail to charm."--_madison courier._ =marjory's discovery= this new addition to the popular marjory-joe series is as lovable and original as any of the other creations of this writer of charming stories. we get little peeps at the precious twins, at the healthy minded joe and sweet marjory. there is a bungalow party, which lasts the entire summer, in which all of the characters of the previous marjory-joe stories participate, and their happy times are delightfully depicted. the little cousin series (trade mark) cloth decorative, mo, illustrated, each $ . by laura e. richards, anna c. winlow, etc. our little african cousin our little alaskan cousin our little arabian cousin our little argentine cousin our little armenian cousin our little australian cousin our little austrian cousin our little belgian cousin our little bohemian cousin our little brazilian cousin our little bulgarian cousin our little canadian cousin of the great northwest our little canadian cousin of the maritime provinces our little chilean cousin our little chinese cousin our little cossack cousin our little cuban cousin our little czecho-slovak cousin our little danish cousin our little dutch cousin our little egyptian cousin our little english cousin our little eskimo cousin our little finnish cousin our little french cousin our little german cousin our little grecian cousin our little hawaiian cousin our little hindu cousin our little hungarian cousin our little indian cousin our little irish cousin our little italian cousin our little japanese cousin our little jewish cousin our little jugoslav cousin our little korean cousin our little lapp cousin our little lithuanian cousin our little malayan (brown) cousin our little mexican cousin our little norwegian cousin our little panama cousin our little persian cousin our little philippine cousin our little polish cousin our little porto rican cousin our little portuguese cousin our little quebec cousin our little roumanian cousin our little russian cousin our little scotch cousin our little servian cousin our little siamese cousin our little south african (boer) cousin our little spanish cousin our little swedish cousin our little swiss cousin our little turkish cousin our little welsh cousin our little west indian cousin the little cousins of long ago our little athenian cousin our little carthaginian cousin our little celtic cousin our little crusader cousin our little feudal cousin our little florentine cousin our little frankish cousin our little macedonian cousin our little norman cousin our little roman cousin our little saxon cousin our little spartan cousin our little viking cousin * * * * * transcriber's notes: first advertising page, price was stamped out and a new price stamped in. page , "it" changed to "is" (ground is covered) page , "remainded" changed to "remained" (remained at his post) page , "awkardly" changed to "awkwardly" (stepped forward awkwardly) page , "anniversity" changed to "anniversary" (anniversary of his birthday) rasputin the rascal monk disclosing the secret scandal of the betrayal of russia by the mock-monk grichka and the consequent ruin of the romanoffs. with official documents revealed and recorded for the first time.. by william le queux published by hurst & blackett, limited, paternoster house, london ec. rasputin the rascal monk, by william le queux. ________________________________________________________________________ ________________________________________________________________________ rasputin the rascal monk, by william le queux. preface. why this book is written. in the following pages i have attempted to take the reader behind the veil of the imperial russian court, and to disclose certain facts which, in this twentieth century, may appear almost incredible. as one who knows russia, who has traversed the empire from virballen to the pacific coast, and who has met personally both the ex-emperor and his consort, as well as many of the persons herein mentioned, i confess that i myself have often been astounded when examining the mass of documents which this dirty siberian peasant--the convicted horse-stealer who rose to be the secret adviser of nicholas ii--had happily secreted in the safe in his cellar in the gorokhovaya, in petrograd, so that the real truth of his traitorous dealings with the kaiser might be chronicled in history. i had hoped to be able to reproduce many of the cipher telegrams and letters in facsimile, but the present shortage of paper has precluded this, and it could only be done if this book were issued in expensive form. to me, it seems best that the british public should have access to it in a cheap and popular form, and hence i have abandoned the idea of facsimiles. i here publish the story of the mock-monk's amazing career as a further contribution to the literature upon germany's spy system and propaganda so cleverly established as an insidious adjunct to her military attack upon the civilisation of our times. the conversations herein recorded have been disclosed by patriotic russians, the truth has been winnowed out of masses of mere hearsay, and the cipher telegrams and letters i have copied from the de-coded originals placed at my disposal by certain russians, allies of ours, who desire, for the present, to remain anonymous. william le queux. devonshire club, london, s.w. november, . chapter one. the cult of the "sister-disciples." the war has revealed many strange personalities in europe, but surely none so sinister or so remarkable as that of the mock-monk gregory novikh--the middle-aged, uncleanly charlatan, now happily dead, whom russia knew as rasputin. as one whose duty it was before the war to travel extensively backwards and forwards across the face of europe, in order to make explorations into the underworld of the politics of those who might be our friends-- or enemies as fate might decide--i heard much of the drunken, dissolute scoundrel from siberia who, beneath the cloak of religion and asceticism, was attracting a host of silly, neurotic women because he had invented a variation of the many new religions known through all the ages from the days of rameses the great. on one occasion, three years before the world-crisis, i found myself at the obscure little fishing-village called alexandrovsk, on the arctic shore, a grey rock-bound place into which the black chill waves sweep with great violence and where, for four months in the year, it is perpetual night. to-day, alexandrovsk is a port connected with petrograd by railway, bad though it be, which passes over the great marshy tundra, and in consequence has been of greatest importance to russia since the war. while inspecting the quays which had then just been commenced, my friend volkhovski, the russian engineer, introduced me to an unkempt disreputable-looking "pope" with remarkable steel-grey eyes, whose appearance was distinctly uncleanly, and whom i dismissed with a few polite words. "that is grichka (pronounced greesh-ka), the miracle-worker!" my friend explained after he had ambled away. "he is one of the very few who has access to the tsar at any hour." "why?" i asked, instantly interested in the mysterious person whose very name the russian censor would never allow to be even mentioned in the newspapers. my friend shrugged his broad shoulders and grinned. "many strange stories are told of him in moscow and in petrograd," he said. "no doubt you have heard of his curious new religion, of his dozen wives of noble birth who live together far away in pokrovsky!" i glanced back at the receding shock-haired figure in the long black clerical coat and high boots, little dreaming that i had met the mock-saint whose evil influence was to cause the downfall of the imperial house of romanoff. strange it is that to-day i have before me the amazing official reports of his career from revolutionary and private sources--reports from which i intend to here set out certain astounding facts. first, it is quite beyond question that the pravoslavny church, with its malign influences and filthy practices, is, in the main, responsible for gregory novikh's success as a worker of bogus "miracles." the evil-minded libertine upon whom his fellow-villagers in pokrovsky, in the siberian province of tobolsk, bestowed the name of rasputin (or in russian, "ne'er-do-well-son)," was a fisherman who possessed an inordinate fondness for the village lasses, and also for vodka. a mere illiterate mujik, disgusting in his habits and bestial in his manners, he grew lazy and dissolute, taking to theft and highway-robbery, for which, according to the official report of the court of tobolsk, before me, he was imprisoned twice, and a third time was publicly flogged and so degraded that he was compelled to bid farewell to pokrovsky, much to the relief of the villagers. behind him he left a peasant wife, a little son, named dmitri, and two daughters. he also left behind him a handsome young peasant woman known as guseva, a person who was destined to contribute a few years later in no small measure to his dramatic death. sins always follow the sinners. after a year or two of wandering as a rogue and vagabond, committing thefts where he could, and betraying any woman he came across, he suddenly conceived the brilliant idea of posing as a "holy man." this idea came to him because, while in pokrovsky, he had had as boon companion and fellow-drunkard a certain market-gardener who had joined the pravoslavny church and is to-day by his influence actually a bishop! in most eastern countries, especially in india and china, there are many wandering "holy men," and modern russia is no exception. to lead a "gospel life" of endless pilgrimages to "holy" places and to collect money for nonexistent charities appealed to the fellow as an easy mode of lazy sensual self-indulgence. therefore he adopted it, being aided by the ex-market-gardener, who was already in the church. so both prospered exceedingly well. rasputin had by this time discovered himself possessed of quite extraordinary powers. indeed a report upon him written by a great russian alienist who knew him intimately, has recently reached london, and from its voluminous pages which i have had before me, i gather that both physiologically and psychically he was abnormal, while his natural hypnotic influence was marked by the rare power he possessed of being able to contract the pupils of his steel-grey eyes at will, regardless of sunlight or shadow. few persons can do this. it is a sign well known to alienists that the person is a criminal degenerate. rasputin never smiled, even when he drank heavily. he could consume three bottles of champagne and still be quite sober! with vodka, his favourite spirit, he became talkative, but never indiscreet. he was a lunatic of an intensely erotic type; a satyr who possessed a truly appalling influence over women of all ages, and even at his word men in high positions did not hesitate to cast off their brilliant uniforms and decorations and mortify their flesh! from this man, crafty, cunning and elusive, a fiendish satyr whose hypnotic influence was irresistible, no woman, however high-born, high-minded, or highly religious was safe. he lived upon his wits, and lived well. with that amazing cunning usual in such criminals he affected a deep piety, so that at the various monasteries where he sought hospitality he was welcomed. in russia many of the religious houses still unfortunately savour of the most disgraceful debauchery, as they did in england before the reformation, and at such institutions rasputin became a popular figure. at certain convents the mock-monk, with the connivance of the pravoslavny church, was eagerly entertained by the dissolute nuns, more especially at novo tchevkask, on the don, as well as at viatka, and at saratov, in kasan. from the convent of novo dievichy (the convent of the virgins) near the last-mentioned town, a great place which overlooks the volga half way to wolgsk, some terrible scandals leaked out, when the mother-superior, probably to save herself from the public indignation, brought in four sturdy mujiks from the countryside, who pitched the "saint" out into the road, and administered such a severe kicking that the "holy father"--as the tsaritza afterwards called him--could only creep about in pain for many days after! two months later, according to a report countersigned by paul dragomrioff, superintendent of the secret police of moscow--a screed which, being somewhat ill-written, is difficult of translation--rasputin was in that city. i here quote from it:-- "report of ivan obroutcheff, police-agent, number , of the nd division, secret police, stationed at moscow. april nd:-- "according to instructions from police headquarters, i visited at orders of superintendent dragomrioff, number , tverskaia, next to loukonture's papier-mache factory at : a.m. to-day. i there found in a carpeted but barely furnished room an assembly of the cult of the naked believers kneeling before the monk, gregory novikh. twenty-eight persons, all being women, fourteen of them ladies of birth and education, were present, and as i entered with my eight assistants the `holy man' stood at the lectern, reading passages from the gospel of st luke, interspersed with his own exhortations of the trials of the flesh. the walls of the room were decorated with disgusting pictures of a nature which would shock the modesty of all but the _demi-monde_, while behind the monk novikh hung a copy of the holy ikon of novgorod. "in accordance with instructions all present were arrested after they had dressed, and i ordered them to be conducted to the central police bureau, where their names and addresses were taken, and they were interrogated singly. most of the midnight worshippers expressed indignation, and more especially the `saint' rasputin, who demanded in the name of the tsar that he might telegraph to the empress. my superior officer, nemiloff, chief of secret police of moscow, could not deny him this privilege. the result has been that by eleven o'clock next day an order came from the tsar for the release of all the prisoners, and orders that no facts should be permitted to appear in the press. grichka has left for the capital by the : express this afternoon. "signed: ivan obroutcheff." the report above quoted shows rasputin in the early stages of his shameless debauchery. in london we have had the notorious swami, with her male accomplice, practising similar acts upon innocent girls, but in moscow the drunken and verminous monk with his hair-shirt, a rope around his waist and sandals upon his bulging feet, had attracted a select _coterie_ of society women, daughters and wives of some of the greatest nobles of russia, who, in secret and with gold in their hands, vowed themselves as docile followers of this siberian fisherman whom nature had equipped as a satyr of such a type that happily none has ever been known in britain in all its glorious years of history. i readily admit that the career of grichka, the man whose name the censor does not allow to be mentioned, the sinister power that later on so suddenly appeared behind the russian throne and whose true story i am here revealing, will appear incredible to my readers. i have written many works of fiction which some, of you may have read. but no work of mine has ever contained facts so extraordinary as the real life of this unwashed charlatan who, under the active protection of his debauched church--and i write here with a true and reverent sense of our christian religion--succeeded in establishing himself in the apartments of the favourite lady-in-waiting upon the empress, and further, to teach his horrible "religion" to the innocent daughters of the tsar in turn! much has already appeared in the newspapers regarding the sturdy unkempt rogue, but the greater part of it has emanated from the brains of writers who have not had access to official documents. in these present articles my intention is to tell the british public the bare unvarnished truth culled from documentary evidence at my disposal, and to leave them to form their own conclusions. russia, our great ally, is, alas, still mysterious and much behind the times. true, she has a press, a duma, and many modern social institutions. yet her civilisation is only upon the surface. the empire is, unfortunately, still the same as england was under the tudors, an underworld of profligacy, plotting, and strange superstitions. the latter have, of course, been recently revived in london, as is proved by the prosecution of the fortune-tellers of regent street and st john's wood. again, were not the scandals of the "abode of love" much the same as that of rasputin's dozen-wived harem which he established in pokrovsky? the criminal records of holy russia teem with amazing stories of this "holy" scoundrel who from a drunken siberian fisherman rose, by erotic suggestion, to become the greatest consolation to the empress, and the lever by which "nikki the autocrat" was flung from his throne. i remember how, when in sofia, in the pre-war days with sir george buchanan, then our minister to bulgaria, and now ambassador to russia, a cultured and clever diplomat to whom great britain owes more than she can ever know, and hence cannot acknowledge, we discussed the mystery of russia and of the subtle influences near the throne. little did either of us dream that he would now be ambassador to the russian court, and i would be writing this exposure of the evil life of the blasphemous satyr rasputin. the cult established by the pilgrimages of this illiterate peasant grew apace. the "holy father" whose disgraceful past is recorded in the police _dossiers_ at tyumen and tobolsk had, by his astounding power of hypnotism, gathered around him a crowd of "sister-disciples," mostly of the upper and leisured classes, to whom the new religion of nature strongly appealed. upon his constant pilgrimages to jaroslav, vologda, vitebsk, orel and other places, he made converts everywhere. he declared that no woman could obtain favour of the almighty without first committing sexual sin, because that sin was the one which was forgiven above all others. at his weekly seances at which, strange to say, the highest born ladies in the empire attended in secret, the most disgraceful scenes were witnessed, the dirty unwashed monk, a most repellent creature to all save his "disciples," acting as the high-priest of this erotic sisterhood. soon the disgusting rogue began to perform "miracles." into his confidence he took a young man named ilya kousmitch--who, be it said, afterwards made certain statements to those who at last meted out justice and who provided me with certain details--and with the young fellow's connivance he succeeded in bamboozling a number of perfectly respectable and honest women in petrograd, as well as in moscow and kiev, where he effected some really mysterious "cures." in one instance at the house of a certain madame litvinoff, in the sergiyevskaya, the most fashionable quarter of petrograd, the man known as "the stareb," or "grichka," held a select meeting of his followers. the shameless charlatan treated the ladies who had assembled to worship him and to contribute lavishly to his imaginary charities, with the greatest disdain and most brutal contempt. this man, guilty of the most appalling vices, addressed them as usual in a strange illiterate jumble, urging them to follow the new religion which he called "the trial of the flesh," interspersing his remarks with occult jargon from works upon black magic, interlarded with those self-same scriptural quotations which will be found marked in that big bible used by the swami and her fellow-criminal--a volume now preserved in the black museum at scotland yard. one of the women present, a certain baroness korotki, was suffering from acute rheumatism. the "saint" placed his hands upon her, looked into her eyes with that intense unwavering stare of his, uttered some strange incantation, and lo! the pains left her, and she declared herself healed! the effect was electrical. others declared themselves suffering from various imaginary maladies, and after performing certain rites as laid down by the "holy father," he laid hands upon them one after the other, and hypnotised them into a belief that they were cured. next day reports of these amazing "cures" ran like wildfire through petrograd, and the superstitious lower-classes were at once seized by a belief that the saint "grichka," head of the fast-growing organisation of thinly disguised sensuality, was really a holy man and could work miracles. around him crowded the halt and maimed and the blind, and aided by his accomplice ilya kousmitch, he not only pretended to effect cures, but succeeded in making many more converts among the lower-class women by declaring, as he had told the society dames, that there was in him a portion of the divine with whom, as he put it, "all that would be saved must be one in the flesh and in the spirit!" at one of his reunions, held a week or so later at madame litvinoff's, there attended madame vyrubova, the handsome leading lady-in-waiting at court, and the chamber-confidante of both tsar and tsaritza. like the others, this intriguing woman at once fell beneath the mock-monk's inexplicable spell. his new religion of the flesh appealed to her erotic temperament, and she at once became one of his most passionate devotees, a few days later introducing him at court with astonishing result. the subtle intrigues of madame vyrubova were many. as chamber-confidante of both emperor and empress she had for a long time assisted in the spiritualistic seances which were given in private at tsarskoe-selo by a russian monk named helidor and his french friend, known as "philippe." the young tsarevitch was in a state of fast-declining health, and helidor, as a "holy man," had, at madame's suggestion, been called in to pray for him. spiritualistic practices followed in strictest secrecy, and the credulous empress first believed that the "holy man's" dealings with the unseen were resulting in a beneficial effect upon the weakly lad. at last, however, owing to. court intrigue, helidor fell out of favour. it was just after this when anna vyrubova first met and fell beneath the evil influence of rasputin. grichka was a "miracle-worker," and might, she thought, perhaps restore the tsarevitch to health! she knew that the empress, a shallow-minded, ephemeral woman, lived for one object alone, namely, to secure for her son the crown of romanoff. but the physicians gave but little hope of this. in a year--perhaps before--he must die, they had whispered. helidor had been dismissed. would rasputin be more successful? madame sought out the charlatan who was busy with many "cures," and suggested that he should accompany her to the palace, but with lordly disdain the drunken fisherman from pokrovsky declared that to him all men and women were equal. to a friend, a certain madame kovalenko, wife of one of the high court officials, madame vyrubova described this interview. it took place in petrograd at the house of a rich merchant living in the tavritsheskaya, opposite the gardens. when the lady-in-waiting, who had, like so many others, fallen beneath his spell, had made the suggestion that the master should be introduced to the court circle, he placed his left hand behind his back, a favourite attitude of his, drew himself up and began to address her in that strange jargon which she hardly understood-- quotations from the "lives of the saints" jumbled up with lewd suggestions, high phrases, and meaningless sentences. as conclusion to this speech, however, the wily fellow added: "i care nothing for the rulers of earth, but only for the ruler of heaven, who has bestowed upon me his blessing, and has led me into the path of honour, righteousness and peace. the rulers, of earth worship in their chapels and their tinsel cathedrals, but i worship everywhere, in the air, in the woods, in the streets, and you, lady, worship with me in body and in soul." and he raised his cold eyes upward, his right hand with its bulgy joints and broken dirty finger nails being placed across his breast. then he sighed, as he added: "ah! you do not yet understand! god has placed within me the power to smite--as well as to heal." madame vyrubova, fascinated by his strange hypnotic glance, fell upon her knees before the "saint," and kissing his bulgy unclean hand begged of him again and again to see the empress. but the artful scoundrel remained obdurate. he knew of helidor's disgrace, and did not intend to hold himself at all cheaply. the result was that madame vyrubova sought him next day and, handed him an autograph note from the empress inviting him to come to the winter palace and see the grand duke alexis. he read it, secretly much gratified, for he knew that not only had his latest devotee prevailed upon the empress to seek the aid of another russian monk to succeed the degraded helidor, but that the pravoslavny church, the most powerful influence of state governance, had also been responsible for the invitation he held within his dirty fingers. from that moment rasputin's power became assured--a power he wielded for evil from that hour until the day of his well-deserved end. when that grey afternoon the unkempt libertine was introduced to the small white-and-gold private salon of the empress, which overlooks the gardens and the neva on the northern wing of the palace, the princess obolensky, princess orbeliani and countess hendrikoff, maids-of-honour, were with her majesty, curious to see what manner of man it was who could perform miracles, and whom so many of the society women in petrograd and moscow now acknowledged and addressed as "master." upon the threshold the mock-monk halted, and in that dramatic attitude, struck in order to impress his hearers, he stood with his left arm behind him, erect, with his unkempt head thrown back, his face stern and relentless, his grey eyes sharp and piercing. for some moments he remained there in statuesque silence, well-knowing how women were impressed by that pose. the hypnotism of those grey eyes few of the opposite sex could withstand. his conquests, or "conversions" as he termed them--were in every direction, and in every city. the cult of the naked believers had rapidly spread everywhere. he was besieged by female disciples eager to hold meetings, for without the actual presence of the saint true worship of the erotic could not take place. "great lady!" he exclaimed at last in his deep, heavy voice, still that of the siberian mujik, "you desire me here? i have come!" the empress rose and stretching out her hand eagerly welcomed the unholy charlatan into the court circle, and half-an-hour later introduced him to fully a dozen of the highest-born women of the empire, all of whom were at once impressed by his affected piety and humility. but a "dark force" had now entered the very heart of russia, and later that afternoon, in a luxuriously furnished bedroom the miracle-worker was shown the poor little heir to the throne lying upon his sick couch, he placed hands upon him, and her majesty herself fell victim to that strange spell which other women had found so indescribable and so inexplicable. "i will cure your son," said rasputin slowly, after he had knelt beside him and looked long and earnestly into his eyes without uttering a word. madame vyrubova was present and exchanged glances of relief with the empress. to the latter, easily impressionable as she was, though all believed her to be a staid mother of a family, rasputin became at once a saint, a divine agent, a miraculous guide. he had cured the poor; why could he not, if he willed it, cure her son? then in the days that followed "incidents" occurred in the palace. at select assemblies of one or two of the empress's confidantes--parties, of course, arranged by madame vyrubova, rasputin expounded his shameless "religion." his jargon, the jumbled phrases of an illiterate peasant who knew not the meaning of what he uttered, his exhortations to commit sin so that it might be forgiven, his declaration of self-divinity, and his odds and ends of scripture mixed with the foulest vocabulary of russian, was listened to with bated breath. why? because, strange though it may seem, the health of the young grand duke alexis had taken a sudden turn for the better. even his physicians were compelled to acknowledge it! whether the latter were in any way under the influence of rasputin by means of money-payment--for the fellow had by this time acquired a considerable fortune from his dupes--has not yet been ascertained. one thing, however, is shown in the documents before me, namely, that the mock-monk's "miracles" were often effected by means of secret drugs of which he had quite a curious extensive knowledge. how this was acquired is again a mystery, save that he was very friendly with a certain student of chinese and thibetan medicine, named badmayeff, and that this person regularly furnished him at high prices with certain little-known drugs from the far east. with the gradual improvement of the health of the poor little grand duke, rasputin's ascendancy over the empress rapidly increased. he had been introduced to the emperor, who, though regarding him with askance, tolerated him merely because his beloved son was improving beneath his daily prayerful treatment. meanwhile, the canker-worm of rasputin's religion had, fostered by the empress's favourite lady-in-waiting, entered into the court circle, and many secret meetings were held in the palace where under the pseudo-religious cloak certain ladies of the russian court became devotees of the "holy father," and practised abominations absolutely incredible. official reports contain both dates and names of those who gave themselves into the unscrupulous hands of this man who claimed the divine right and thus worshipped as "believers." rasputin was too clever a scoundrel to allow matters to proceed quite smoothly. several chance conversations with the emperor and with stolypin convinced him that he might ultimately share the same obscurity as helidor. he therefore one day pretended to be offended at some words of the empress--whom he now addressed by the familiar terms of "thee" and "thou" which he used to his disciples, though even the grand dukes and duchesses would have hesitated so to address the empress--and after a dramatic farewell, he took himself off to the wonderful and luxurious monastery which, according to his statement to the empress, he had built at his native pokrovsky with the money he had collected upon his various pilgrimages. to the female section of petrograd society he had been never tired of describing the beauties of this monastery where his fellow-monks lived a life of severe asceticism and constant prayer, therefore at his sudden resolve to leave, the capital--or the better-class women of it--grew tearful and the empress most of all. within four days of his departure for siberia the little tsarevitch was taken suddenly ill, and the empress, beside herself at having expressed any words of doubt concerning the unkempt saint who had so entirely entered into her life, telegraphed wildly to him. this message, since unearthed by the revolutionary party, which ran as follows:-- "i cannot bear your absence. life is so grey and hopeless without you, my dear comforter, my master. alexis has been taken ill. do not take any notice of kokovtsov. he is responsible for my hasty words to you and shall suffer for it. forgive me. return--for my sake and for the life of alexis-alec." but the crafty mujik was not to be thus entrapped. he had been guest of the minister kokovtsov, a week before, and his host and his friends had made him roaring drunk. in his cups he had made certain revelations. what they were the saint could not recollect. hence he had absented himself from court, in order to maintain his divine dignity--and to plot further. at this point it is necessary to make a critical remark. for two years rasputin had been speaking of his monastery at pokrovsky. in the salons and boudoirs of moscow and kiev as well as in petrograd, society spoke of the institute, discussed it and declared that indeed grichka was a holy man. the metropolitan with his rich robes and jewels, and all the bishops were as common clay in comparison with the "holy father" who could cure by the laying-on of hands, who walked in humility and who devoted himself to good works. curiously enough it had occurred to nobody, not even to the ever-ubiquitous police of petrograd, to investigate the story told by rasputin regarding his monastery at far-off pokrovsky. the world of russia did not, of course, know that in that siberian village there still lived rasputin's peasant-wife with her children, or that his life had been so evil, a career of drink and profligacy which even in siberia stood out in letters of scarlet in the police _dossiers_ of tobolsk. it, however, remained for a female spy of the revolutionary party--a certain lady named vera aliyeff, from whose report i am writing--to travel to that sordid siberian village and watch the court charlatan in his home. i may here say that to the untiring efforts of mademoiselle aliyeff is in a great measure due the downfall and assassination of the terribly sinister influence which cost the tsar nicholas his throne, and hundreds of women their good name--as i shall afterwards show. but to relate matters in their proper sequence as history i may here quote from the report of this patriotic woman-revolutionary who travelled to rasputin's home in disguise, because he knew her, and as she was good-looking, he had already endeavoured to induce her to join the cult of the naked believers. she reports:-- "i found the great monastery of pokrovsky to be a dirty repellent hamlet of mujiks of the worst and most illiterate type. there was no trace of the marble palace which rasputin had described as having erected as the main building of the monastery. the latter was, i found, a large, cheaply built, ordinary-looking house, three rooms of which were given up to the `saint's' peasant-wife, his son dmitri and the younger of his two daughters, while in the other part of the house lived twelve women of varying ages--the youngest being sixteen--who were his fascinated devotees and who had given up their lives in europe to enter the seclusion of that sordid home and become his spiritual brides." here mademoiselle aliyeff had an interview with the woman guseva, and later on after an inspection of the police records at tobolsk and tyumen, she returned to petrograd and reported the result of her visit to the right party in the duma. meanwhile, the empress and also her favourite lady-in-waiting telegraphed to rasputin urgently imploring him to return to petrograd. but the verminous libertine was in too comfortable quarters with his dozen devotees to stir out far from his nest, and while going about the village standing drinks to all and sundry and ingratiating himself everywhere, he at the same time treated his old and ugly wife with brutal unconcern, and refused even to reply to the imperial demand. at last he grew weary of his retirement--for, truth to tell, he usually retired there whenever he disappeared upon his many pretended pilgrimages in russia--whereupon he one day sent a telegram to the empress saying that he had at last been directed by a divine call to again return to the bedside of the tsarevitch. this message was received with the greatest joy at tsarskoe-selo, where it set a-flutter hearts in which beat the noblest blood of russia. "the holy father is on his way back to us!" such was the message whispered along the long stone corridors of the winter palace, the many windows of which look out upon the grey neva. the empress went to her son's bedroom and told him the glad news, laying a tender hand upon the poor lad's brow. and madame vyrubova meeting the emperor as he came out of his private cabinet chatting with the duke of mecklenburg-strelitz and the minister protopopoff, whispered the news into his ear. the tsar smiled happily. little did his majesty dream that by that return of the unwashed scoundrel whom the most delicately nurtured women worshipped, he was doomed to lose his throne. on rasputin's arrival some intensely dramatic scenes ensued--scenes that would be deemed fantastic if any modern novelist had dared to describe them even as fiction. but from these voluminous reports and the _dossier_ before me i shall attempt to describe them. chapter two. scandals at the winter palace. the rascalities of rasputin were unparalleled, even in russia. the mock-monk, much against his will, returned to the winter palace where the court had gone for a few days and only because of the divine call, as he pretended. he treated the distracted tsaritza with utter disdain when early one wintry morning he drove in from the dvortsovy square, passed the palace guards, and ascended the wide black-and-white marble staircase of the great hall, where she stood eager to receive him. "ah! forgive me! forgive me, my master!" implored the empress in a low agonised tone. "i was thoughtless and foolish." "take me to alexis," said the charlatan roughly interrupting her. "he is ill--very ill--and god has sent me to him." eagerly the empress conducted him to the bedside of her son, the little tsarevitch. madame vyrubova, the mistress of rasputin, was awaiting him, together with two nurses and a physician named letchitzki. with rough deep-voiced dismissal the unkempt profligate sent everyone from the room, including the empress herself. he wished to pray by the sick lad's bedside, he explained. this he did, madame vyrubova alone remaining. when the door was closed the blasphemous rascal quickly bent over the heir to ascertain that he was sleeping, then he raised his own dirty hands for madame to kiss, crossing himself at the same time, and whispering "the drug? it seems to have acted well--eh? where is it?" she slipped a tiny green-glass phial from her cream silk blouse and handed it to him, saying: "yes, badmayeff was right! each time i gave it to him in his milk, he grew worse." "ah!" laughed the verminous fellow, his sensuous face bearded and blotchy with drink. "now that i have returned divine providence will restore him. he will not get his six drops each day!" the dastardly charlatan and poisoner of russia's heir concealed the thibetan drug in the folds of his ample habit, and whispering in his rough uncouth peasant way, "now let the fools in again!" he threw himself upon his knees by the bedside commencing a fervent prayer. "o god--the great! the merciful! the giver of all bounties, the creator, and the death-giver--the maker of kings and the destroyer of nations--to thee we pray--and of thee we ask--" and as he uttered those blasphemous words the favourite lady-in-waiting opened the long white-and-gold door to admit the imperial mother of the poor half-conscious elder son of the great house of romanoff--the boy whose life was being trifled with by the administration of those pernicious drugs which, at any moment, when "rasputin" willed, might cause death from haemorrhage. the fellow novikh, the low-born thief and blackmailer from the far-off wilds of siberia, had planted himself in the winter palace as a divinity to be worshipped. the court circle of silly women in search of sensation, and headed by the empress herself, had fallen entirely beneath his baneful influence, believing that only by first practising his disgusting rites could they offer prayers to the almighty. another of the empress's intimates who had joined the palace circle of believers was countess ignatieff, who had also become a most devout follower of rasputin and who exerted all her great influence in officialdom for his benefit and protection. war had broken out, and while the newspapers of the allies were full of russia's greatness and the irresistible power of her military "steamroller," the world was in utter ignorance that the empress was actually educating her own daughters to enter the secret cult of the "believers," a suggestion which they eventually obeyed! such was the truly horrible state of affairs at court. thus in a few brief months that unmasked thief whom the workers of petrograd contemptuously called "grichka," and whose very name rasputin meant "the ne'er-do-well" had, by posing as a holy man, and a worker of mock "miracles," become a power supreme at court. daily at eleven each morning this verminous libertine, whose weekly reunions were in reality orgies as disgraceful as any organised by the imperial satyr tiberius, knelt at the bedside of the poor little tsarevitch to drone his blasphemous appeals to god, while the empress, always present, knelt humbly in a corner listening to that jumble of exhortations, threats, and amazing assertions of his own divine right as high-priest of the believers. the empress had fallen completely beneath the hypnotism of the grey steely eyes, the hard sphinx-like countenance that never smiled, and those long dirty knotted fingers, the nails of which were never cleaned. to her, filth, both moral and personal, was synonymous with godliness. then, after each prayer, madame vyrubova would assist the mock-monk to rise and declare-- "the holy father is, alas! tired," and then lead him off into the adjoining ante-room overlooking the neva where a silk-stockinged flunkey stood ready to serve the scoundrel with his usual bottle of heidsieck monopole--the entire contents of which he would quickly empty and smack his lips over in true peasant manner. mademoiselle sophie tutcheff, governess of the tsar's daughters, very quickly perceived a change in the demeanour of her charges. they were no longer the charming ingenuous girls they were before. she had overheard whispered conversations between the grand duchess tatiana and her sister, marie. rasputin, moreover, had now been given luxurious apartments in the palace, close to the rooms occupied by madame vyrubova, and each day he came to the schoolroom in which the three younger princesses, tatiana, marie and anastasia were prosecuting their studies. it did not take mademoiselle tutcheff long to discern the true state of affairs. the monk one day used the most lewd language while chatting with the three young grand duchesses, whereupon mademoiselle, who belonged to one of the highest families in russia, went off to the empress in disgust and indignation. her protests were, as may be imagined, met with withering scorn. "i am empress and the holy father is our guest in the palace," exclaimed the tsaritza, who was taking tea with two ladies of the court who were her fellow-believers. "what you have said is an insult to him. you are dismissed in disgrace." and an hour later poor mademoiselle left the palace without her pupils being allowed to bid her farewell. this, however, was but one illustration of the power which the rascally ex-highwayman had secured over the imperial court, and hence over the great russian empire itself. his influence was more powerful than that of all the grand dukes, the council of the empire, and the council of ministers put together. true, his majesty was tsar, but gregory rasputin was equally powerful, if not more so, because of his innate craftiness, his pseudo-divinity, his mock miracles, and the support he received from a certain section of the church. possessed of the curious cunning of the erotic criminal lunatic, rasputin never allowed matters to run calmly for very long. he was much too clever for that, well knowing, that while protopopoff, minister of the interior was his friend, he had as powerful enemies, both stolypin and miliukoff--who, later on, became minister for foreign affairs. both the latter he feared, as well as the grand duke nicholas michailovitch. the latter had secretly learnt much concerning the ex-thief of the far-off siberian village--more, indeed, than rasputin had ever dreamed. one day, a week after the departure of mademoiselle sophie tutcheff, the grand duke attended a great reception at the winter palace. the usual brilliant throng had assembled; the usual imperial procession had taken place down the great nicholas hall, that famous salon wherein three thousand people can dance at one time--the salon the walls of which are adorned with golden plates, and where on the night of a court ball the assembly is indeed a gorgeous one of stars, medals, exquisite dresses and brilliant uniforms. though russia was at war, the empress had given the ball, and all russian court society had assembled. among the throng were two men the bishop teofan, of the pravoslavny church, and with him the monk, silent and unbending, upon whom the eyes of all the women were turned. naturally there were many strange whisperings among those who were "believers" and those who had not been initiated into the cult of the "sister-disciples," whispers among the old and young--whispers which were not meant for any male ear. bishop and monk passed down the great ballroom, through the beautiful winter-garden beyond, where many men and women were chatting beneath the palms, and then into the oriental gallery, a place decorated with those engraved golden and silver plates which catherine the great received with bread and salt from those who came to do her homage. thence the pair disappeared into one of the side rooms to what is known as the jordan entrance. a tall, bald-headed man with heavy brow, moustache, small round beard, and wearing a brilliant white uniform with many decorations had followed the pair from the ball-room. with him walked a young, clean-shaven, dark-haired man in uniform, erect and determined. the elder was the grand duke nicholas michailovitch, the younger the grand duke dmitri pavlovitch. they entered the small room unceremoniously, and confronted the illiterate bishop and the peasant charlatan. "we have come to turn you out of the palace!" exclaimed the elder man firmly. "your presence is obnoxious to us, especially the charlatan of pokrovsky. we are grand dukes of russia, and we have no intention to mix with convicted thieves and beguilers of women! come!" his imperial highness cried, "go! you are not wanted here!" "and pray by what right do you speak thus?" asked the starets with offensive insolence. "by the right of my position," was the grand duke's reply. in response, rasputin spat upon the pale blue carpet in defiance. in a moment the young grand duke dmitri pavlovitch, an athletic young officer who had only the day before returned from the german front where he had been with von rennenkampf, took the dirty monk by the scruff of his neck and flung him outside into the big marble hall, administering to him a severe kick in the presence of a dozen of the astonished palace guards. "put this scoundrel outside!" he commanded the men, and two minutes later, rasputin, with his dirty black habit badly torn, found himself flung down the steps headlong into the snow. meanwhile the grand duke nicholas had administered to the dissolute bishop--whose sister, by the way, was one of rasputin's "spiritual brides" at his monastery, or harem, at pokrovsky--a very severe castigation and with his own hands had torn the big crucifix from his neck and cast it across the room. then, when at last the bishop emerged into the hall, he shared, at the grand duke's order, the same indignity that had befallen the dissolute blackguard whom the empress caressed and called her "holy father." of this episode rasputin made no mention to her majesty. it, however, caused him considerable misgivings and before morning he had decided upon a dramatic course of action. next afternoon, a wednesday, was the day fixed for the usual performance of the bi-weekly secret rites. he took luncheon with the emperor and empress in their private apartments, madame vyrubova alone being the only other person at table. suddenly the monk who had been talking with the emperor, using his uncouth siberian expressions, and even eating with his fingers, clasped his knotted, peasant fingers together and turning to the empress, announced: "to-night, great lady, i go upon a pilgrimage. divine god has called me to moscow, where work there awaits me. i know not what it is, but when i arrive there i shall receive his divine direction. alexis will be well in my absence, and will improve, for twice each day he will have my prayers. god has called me--i cannot remain." "not even this afternoon?" gasped the unnerved hysterical woman who was empress of russia in this our twentieth century. "no. i must take leave of you, great lady, to obey the call," was his deep answer. and by that night's express he left in a luxurious sleeping-berth for moscow where, truth to tell, the countess ignatieff was awaiting him. the only "call" the licentious blackguard had received was the news that two very prepossessing young girls, named vera and xenie, daughters of the late baroness koulomzine, of moscow, had expressed their desire to countess ignatieff to join the secret cult. the countess had shown him their photographs and the libertine, in pretence of performing a pilgrimage, travelled to moscow in order to initiate them. next day, at the convent of the ascension, where the libertine had spent the night, he interviewed the two young gentlewomen. before an ikon with flowers upon the altar and in the presence of the lady-superior, he exorcised their sins according to his prescribed rite. it was a strange scene. the penitents in the dimly-lit chapel each touched their forehead and breast with thumb and forefinger, gazing immobile and fascinated at the miracle-working "master," their lips moving in proper response to the prayers of the heaven-sent confessor. at what subsequently transpired i can only hint. according to the official report before me the girls confessed to two officers, their half-brothers, that after the benediction the verminous monk induced them both to go to the turkish baths together, for "purification" as he put it. well, the mock-monk found himself under arrest, and only by the most strenuous efforts of the countess ignatieff was he released, after spending forty hours in a cell. but rasputin merely smiled. he knew his own power. next day he returned to petrograd, and within twelve hours of his arrival plestcheff, chief of police of moscow, had, at the instance of the empress, been relieved of his post in disgrace. rasputin's exploits in moscow brought him very nearly to disaster. master-criminal that he was and as my intention is to show, he calmly reviewed his position, and saw that by cleverly playing his cards--now that the empress and her easily gulled court had become so completely enthralled by his "wonder-working"--he might assume his own position as the most powerful man in the empire. his personal magnetism is indisputable. i can personally vouch for that. on the occasion when i met him in that grey cold repellent village on the arctic shore, i myself felt that there was something strangely indescribable, something entirely uncanny about the fellow. those grey eyes were such as i had never before seen in all my long cosmopolitan experience. in those moments when we had exchanged greetings and bowed to each other he seemed to hold me beneath a weird curious spell. he was demon rather than man. therefore i can quite conceive that the ordinary russian woman of any class would easily succumb to his blasphemous advances and his assertions that he was possessed of a divinity as the deliverer of russia. within the russian soul, two centuries behind the times, of to-day, mysticism is still innate, and the mock-monk had already proved up to the hilt to his own complete satisfaction that, by pretending to fast, yet having a good square meal in secret; by pretending to make pilgrimages--but really throwing off his monkish "habits" and as a gay man about town taking a joy-ride in a motor car--and by crossing himself continuously and bowing low before every ikon at which he secretly sneered, he could gull the average woman whether she wore pearls or tended the pigs. rasputin, a low-born immoral brute, by reason of the discovery of his own hypnotic powers, treated womenkind with the most supreme and utter contempt, and it seems that while clearly masquerading beneath that cloak of extreme piety and aided by his gardener-friend, the bishop teofan--a fellow-adventurer from pokrovsky--he resolved after his moscow adventure, to make a bold bid for further power. most men in such circumstances as these would have been both cowed and careful. against him he had stolypin, at that moment one of the most powerful men in the empire, as well as the grand dukes nicholas and dmitri pavlovitch, m. gutchkoff--a bearded man in gold pince-nez with whom i had had before the war many interesting chats in paris and in petrograd, and who subsequently became minister of war and marine--m. miliukoff, the whole-hearted deputy for petrograd in the duma, and what was far more serious, he had fifty or more wildly irate husbands and fathers, all eager and anxious to bring about the scoundrel's downfall. traps were laid for him, but, with the amazing cunning of the erotic lunatic, he eluded them all. back in petrograd, in the salons of the highest in the empire, he lived in luxury, with cars always at his disposal. the "holy father" who had his own suite in the private apartments of the imperial family was welcomed everywhere he deigned to go. his creature, ilya kousmitch, warned him of the pitfalls that were being set. even his dissolute crony the bishop teofan--whom, through the empress, he had himself created--grew grave. but the "saint" merely bit his dirty finger nails, as is the habit of the siberian peasant, and replied: "gregory novikh has been sent to russia by divine providence. he has no fear!" soon after his narrow escape in moscow he received a letter from the father of the two young girls who had so completely fallen beneath his pious blandishments--a letter in which the angry father declared that he would shoot him at sight. to that letter rasputin, with the overbearing impudence of one who smoked and spat upon the carpet actually in the empress's presence, and, who had the audacity to prompt the tsar in making his appointments and dealing with the affairs of state, replied by telegram--a message still upon record--sent over the private wire from the winter palace: "shoot--and god will reward your daughters bountifully.--gregory." though rasputin presented a remarkably calm exterior, he no doubt, was much perturbed by that threat. a single false step would certainly land him either in oblivion or in prison. but criminal lunatics of his sort are notoriously clever and astute. "jack-the-ripper" was of exactly similar type, and he defied the whole detective police of the world. the secret police of russia, the wiles of which have been so vaunted by the modern novelist, were as childish idiots when their brains became pitted against those of the uncouth siberian peasant, who, calling himself a "saint," could induce every silly woman to follow his immoral directions. just then the empress, whose shallow impressionable mind led her to adopt any new craze, and to seek any new sensation, met a person in whom she indiscreetly placed her trust--a treacherous, long-bearded political adventurer, named boris sturmer. this man was a boon companion of the "saint" in his debaucheries in the midnight wilds of petrograd, for rasputin, when believed to be absent for a week of prayer and self-denial, usually bathed himself, and wearing a well-cut evening-suit plunged into the gay midnight life at the old donon, the belle vue, or the bouffes, on the fontanka. thus boris sturmer, a strong pro-german who had many family connections with the enemy--and the bosom friend of rasputin--actually became prime minister of russia, such being the mock-monk's astounding influence over the imperial autocrat, whose wife and family were, alas! as but clay within his filthy hands. this latest triumph proved conclusively to rasputin that his power was as great as that of the emperor--indeed, to certain of his intimates he used laughingly to declare himself to be the uncrowned tsar! "i live in the palace," he would declare. "the empress does my bidding; her daughters are as my children; the court bows to me; nikki only smiles as an idiot--therefore, am i not the real emperor of russia?" discovering his own overwhelming influence this sinister favourite of both tsar and tsaritza suddenly resolved upon a further move, the cleverness of which was indeed well within keeping with his marvellously astute reasoning. he decided not to be dependent upon the charity of the imperial pair, whom the bishop teofan had one day declared kept him in the winter palace as a tame saint. his friend's taunt stung him to the quick. in consequence, he took a luxurious house in the gorokhovaya, just beyond the moyka, and close to the palace, and while still retaining his apartments in the palace, he lived mostly in his new abode, where in future he announced that the bi-weekly meeting of his disciples for prayer and consolation would be held. like wildfire the decision of the "wonder-worker" ran through the salons of society. there was now a chance for others to enter the cult of the "sister-disciples," and to become as one flesh with the saint, and to be cured by divine agency of any ill. hundreds of society women were frantically anxious to enter this new sisterhood. his house was an expensive one, but only a few of the rooms were well furnished. the dining-room on the ground floor was a large rather bare-looking place, with cheap chairs set round and equally cheap tables of polished walnut. on the walls were portraits of the tsar, the tsaritza and himself. upstairs was his study, a large luxurious apartment, and from it led the bedroom of the "holy" man, which even eclipsed the study in luxury. to this house the smart band of society converts who called themselves the "sister-disciples" went regularly twice each week to hear the "miracle-worker" descant upon the beauties of his new religion. among the members of this degenerate group were:--the pretty fluffy-haired little princess boyarski, madame pistolcohrse, sister of madame vyrubova, a certain countess yepantchine, whose splendid house was in the sergiyevskaya, the most fashionable quarter without equal in petrograd, as well as the grand duchess olga, daughter of the tsaritza, and many others. though the blasphemous discourses were delivered and the disgusting secret rites practised twice each week at rasputin's house, as well as also twice weekly in secret at tsarskoe-selo, many women seeking knowledge of the new religion--after having fallen beneath the spell of the mock-saint's eyes--went to the monk alone by appointment, and there had what the blackguard termed "private converse" with him in his upstairs study adjoining his luxurious sleeping apartment. the uncouth peasant's actions, his open immorality, and the cold-blooded manner in which he turned wife from husband, and betrothed from her lover, had now become open gossip at the street corners. whenever the mock-saint went forth in any car or carriage of his female admirers or of the court, the people grinned and recognising the lady, would whisper-- "look! grichka has taken yet another bride!" at some of the mysterious meetings rasputin's old friend the dissolute bishop teofan was present, and on one occasion a dramatic incident occurred. the little princess boyarski had apparently grown jealous of the "saint" because he had paid too great attention to a new convert, a certain mademoiselle zernin, just turned twenty. high words arose in the select circle of worshippers, and the bishop with his big golden cross on his breast endeavoured to quell the dispute. the princess then turned furiously upon the bishop, expressing the deepest resentment that he should have been admitted to their private conference at all, and vowed that she would use all her influence to get him turned out of the church he had dishonoured. rasputin and his friend ridiculed her threats, but two days later both grew extremely uneasy, for teofan was already extremely unpopular with the court circle, and all were only too ready to effect his dismissal and disgrace. indeed, forty-eight hours after the princess had uttered those threats, she, with the countess kleinmichel, contrived to secure his expulsion from the church. only after rasputin had threatened the empress that he would leave petrograd, and in that case the tsarevitch would, he declared, die, that he secured the re-instalment of his fellow-criminal. such was the scoundrel's influence at court in these present war-days! by various tricks, in which he was assisted by the young servant, the man ilya, the charlatan still performed "miracles" upon the poor, which naturally caused his fame to spread all over russia, while his sinister influence was now being felt both in the orthodox church, and in the conduct of the war. contrary to what is generally supposed, he had never been ordained a priest, while he never attended church nor observed any of the forms of religious worship, save the immoral practices of his own invention. he claimed a semi-divinity, and thus declared himself to be above all man-made laws. in those scandalous discourses, in which he made use of the most erotic suggestions, he always urged his female devotees that only through his own body could they seek the protection and forgiveness of the almighty. "i show you the way!" he would constantly say as he stood with his hand behind his back, his other hand upon the bible. "i am here to give you salvation." such was his power in ecclesiastical matters in russia that the most lucrative posts in the church were now filled by men who had paid him for their nominations, and he boasted that the procurator of the holy synod was merely his puppet. from certain evidence before me i am inclined to believe this to be the truth, for some of the supposed "miracles" could never have been "worked" without the procurator's connivance. daily, smart society women came to rasputin's house for "private converse." sometimes one of the circle of his elect would bring with her a young society girl who had heard vaguely of "the disciples," and whose curiosity was naturally aroused, to meet the wonderful wonder-worker. at others, women went alone. but in each case the result was the same. one afternoon the young wife of the wealthy count ivanitski went there in secret, attired in one of her maid's dresses, so as to escape observation, passing through the servants' entrance. the count, however, had heard whispers of this intended visit and, awaiting her return, followed her back to the furshtavkaya, where they lived in a handsome house a few doors from the liteyny prospect. he then coolly called his servants and compelled her to confess before them all that had happened to her in rasputin's house. afterwards he drew a revolver and shot her dead. then he walked out and gave himself up to the police. within an hour news of the affair was brought to the empress and to rasputin, who were dining together in the palace. the monk made a sarcastic grimace when he heard of the murder of the woman who had that afternoon been his victim. "poor fool!" he exclaimed, his glass of wine in his hand. "the countess had already become a devoted disciple." but the empress at once bestirred herself in fear of public indignation being aroused against the holy father, and telephoning to the minister of the interior, ordered the count's immediate release. on another occasion, a week later, a young lieutenant of cavalry named olchowski, who had been with von rennenkampf at brest-litovsk, had returned to petrograd, being met at the railway station by his devoted young wife, a mere chit of a girl, the daughter of a baroness living at ostroff. they returned home together, whereupon somebody slipped into his hand an anonymous letter, stating that his pretty young wife vera had become one of the "spiritual brides" who attended the bi-weekly meetings in the gorokhovaya. the lieutenant said nothing, but watching next afternoon he followed her to the meeting place of the "naked believers," and having satisfied himself that during his absence at the front his beloved wife had fallen beneath the "saint's" spell, he concealed himself in the porch of a neighbouring house until after the worshippers had all departed. then rasputin presently descended the steps to enter one of the imperial carriages which had called for him as was usual each day. in an instant the outraged husband, half-mad with fury, flung himself upon the "holy" libertine and plunged a long keen knife into his breast. but rasputin, whose strength was colossal, simply tossed his assailant away from him without a word, and entered the carriage. beneath his monkish hair-shirt he had for some time, at the empress's urgent desire, worn another shirt which she had had specially made for him in paris, as also for the tsar--a light but most effective shirt of steel-mail. chapter three. how rasputin poisoned the tsarevitch. the dark forces established so ingeniously by the kaiser behind the russian throne in april, , had now become actively at work. the small but all-powerful clique of which rasputin was the head because he practically lived with the imperial family and ate at their table-- the little circle which the russians called "the camarilla"--were actively plotting for the betrayal of the allies and a separate peace with germany. sturmer, the austrian who had been pushed into the office of prime minister of russia by his boon companion and fellow _bon-viveur_, the mock-monk of pokrovsky, had already risen in power. the man whose long goatee-beard swept over the first button of his gorgeous uniform, all true loyal russians in their unfortunate ignorance cheered wildly as he drove swiftly with the _pristyazhka_, or side-horse, along the nevski, for he was believed to be "winning the war." russia, alas! to-day knows that with german gold flowing freely into his pocket he was in secret doing all he could to prevent ministers arriving from great britain, and laughing up his sleeve at his success in ordering a mock-railway from alexandrovsk to be built in order to connect petrograd to an ice-free port--a line which subsequently had to be taken up and relaid! even our british journalists were cleverly bamboozled, for they returned from russia and wrote in our newspapers of her coming great offensive, when they would sweep back the kaiser's hordes and be into berlin ere we should know it. in petrograd one heard of rasputin as the shadowy somebody. but most people declared that he was only a monk, a pious person whom silly women admired, as women so often admire a fashionable preacher even in our own country, and further because of "something," the censor refused to allow his name to appear in any paper. in russia the censorship is full of vagaries. my own novels came under his ban twenty years ago, because as correspondent of _the times_ i had spoken some very plain truths in that journal. i remember well old monsieur de stael, then russian ambassador in london and the cheeriest of good souls, laughing when i came back from russia at my complaint regarding the censorship. "why!" he said, "they censor my letters to my own daughter in nijni! please do not think any the less of russia for that. you have been across the empire, into siberia, and surely you know how far we are behind the times!" russia had, after all, advanced but little in those intervening twenty years, though it has produced the rascal rasputin. that small circle of germanophiles who met so frequently in secret at rasputin's house in the gorokhovaya--the scene of the bi-weekly orgies of the "sister-disciples"--though they were unaware of it were, with clever insinuation, being taught that a separate peace with germany would be of greatest advantage to the empire. they were hourly plotting, and the details of their conspiracies which have now come to light and are before me, documents in black and white, which had been carefully preserved by the monk, are truly amazing. surely no novelist, living or dead, could have ever imagined a situation so astounding and yet so tragic, for the fate of one of the mightiest imperial houses of the modern world was now trembling in the balance. that both the prime minister and his long-moustached sycophant protopopoff, a political adventurer whose past is somewhat shady and obscure, were in daily consultation is plain from the reports of secret agents of the revolutionists. the duke charles michael, though heir to the grand duchy of mecklenburg-strelitz, had, as part of the german emperor's subtle plot, become naturalised as a russian three weeks before the declaration of war, and he, with the erotic scoundrel, was actively carding out berlin's set programme in the salons of tsarskoe-selo. "grichka," the convicted thief from the far-off siberian village, the man who had a dozen "spiritual brides" at pokrovsky, uncouth, unlettered and unwashed, had by this time obtained such hypnotic hold upon the female portion of petrograd society that when he deigned to accept an invitation to dine at the various palaces of the nobility he would eat from his plate with his dirty fingers and his female admirers actually licked them clean! this is absolute fact, vouched for by dozens of patriotic russians whose names i could give. it is contained in a plain report in cold unvarnished language in an official russian report which is before me. readers will, i believe, halt aghast. but such men have exercised the same powers over women-- criminal lunatics always--through the long pages of history. the heart of russia was being eaten out by the german canker-worm. the high-born women of petrograd were being used by rasputin to play the kaiser's game. outwardly sturmer, protopopoff, the bishop teofan, and their place-seeking friends were good loyal russians bent upon winning the war. in secret, however, they were cleverly arranging to effect various crises. the supply of food was held up by a ring of those eager to profit, and the empire became suddenly faced with semi-starvation, so that rioting ensued, and the police were kept busy. then there succeeded serious railway troubles, congestion of traffic to and from the front, "faked" scandals of certain females whom the camarilla charged with giving away russia's secrets to germany. some highly sensational trials followed, much perjured evidence was given, false reports of _agents provocateurs_ produced, and several officers in high command who, though perfectly innocent, were actually condemned as traitors, merely because they had become obnoxious to rasputin and his circle. one day a sensational incident occurred when rasputin visited the ministry of the interior, and sought the adjunct-minister dzhunkovsky, who controlled the police of the empire. on being shown into his room the monk insolently demanded why he was being followed by police-agents, and why his friends who visited his house in the gorokhovaya were being spied upon. "my duty, my dear father, is to know what is in progress in petrograd," replied the minister coldly. "are you not aware that i am immune from espionage by your confounded agents?" cried rasputin in anger. "are you in ignorance that my personal safety is in charge of the special palace police who are responsible for the safety of the emperor?" "my own actions are my own affair," was the chill reply--for truth to tell--the revolutionists had already imparted to dzhunkovsky certain evidence they had collected as to the traitorous conduct of the pseudo-monk and his traitorous friends. high words arose. grichka, losing his temper, made use of some very insulting remarks regarding the minister's young wife, whereupon dzhunkovsky sprang from his chair and promptly knocked down the "saint." an hour later rasputin, with his eye bandaged, sat with the empress in her room overlooking the neva, and related how he had been assaulted by the adjunct-minister of the interior, merely because he had expressed his unswerving loyalty to the throne. to the empress the unwashed charlatan was as a holy man, and such insult caused her blood to boil with indignation. the fellow knew quite well that no word uttered against himself was ever believed by either emperor or empress. they were all said to be stories invented by those jealous of the saint's exalted position, and the wicked inventions of enemies of the dynasty. therefore, what happened was exactly what he expected. in a fury the neurotic empress rose and went off to the tsar who, then and there, signed a decree dismissing his loyal adjunct-minister from office, and appointing an obscure friend of rasputin's in his place! in that same week another incident occurred which caused the saint no little apprehension. his majesty had appointed samarin as procurator of the holy synod, an appointment which rasputin knew might easily result in his own downfall. samarin, an honest, upright man, was one of his most bitter enemies, for he knew the disgraceful past of both him and teofan, and further he had gained accurate knowledge of which appointments of bishops in the pravoslavny church had been the outcome of the ex-horse stealer's influence. therefore, the arch-adventurer saw that at all hazards this new procurator must not be allowed to remain in office, for already he had announced his intention to clear the pravoslavny church of its malign influences and filthy practices. three days later rasputin went out to tsarskoe-selo, where the emperor happened to be, and entering his majesty's private cabinet said in a confidential tone: "listen, friend. i have a secret to whisper to thee! last night i was with sturmer, and he revealed that a great revolutionary plot is afoot for thy deposition from the throne!" "what!" cried the emperor, pale with alarm as he sprang from his chair. "another plot! by whom?" "its chief mover is the man samarin, whom thou hast appointed procurator of the holy synod," replied the crafty adventurer. "sturmer urged me to come at once and to tell thee in private." "are you quite certain of this, holy father?" asked the emperor, looking straight into his bearded face. the monk's grey steely eyes, those hypnotic eyes which few women could resist, met the tsar's unwaveringly. "thou knowest me!" was the "saint's" grave reply. "when i speak to thee, i speak but only the truth." that same day samarin was removed from office and disgraced. everyone wondered why his appointment had been of such brief duration, but that same night, the prime minister sturmer and rasputin drank champagne and rejoiced together at the house in the gorokhovaya, while anna vyrubova, the favourite lady-in-waiting, was also with them, laughing at their great triumph. not a person in all the great empire could withstand rasputin's influence. honest men feared him just as honest women regarded him with awe. from dozens, nay hundreds, of place-hunters and favour-seekers he took bribes on every hand, but woe betide those who fell beneath the blackguard's displeasure. it meant death to them. he was certainly the most powerful and fearless secret agent of all that the huns possessed, scattered as they were in every corner of the globe. yet it must not be supposed that there were none who did not suspect him. indeed, a certain committee of revolutionaries, to whose action russia is to be indebted, were watching the fellow's career very closely, and some of the secret reports concerning him here as i write form intensely interesting reading, astounding even for the unfathomable land of russia. within a few weeks of his triumph over the newly-appointed procurator of the holy synod he discovered, with the innate shrewdness of the russian mujik, that certain secret reports seriously compromising him had been given into the emperor's hand. his majesty, in turn, had shown them to his wife. once again, he saw himself in peril, so, before any action could be taken, he abruptly entered the empress's room at tsarskoe-selo, and boldly said: "heaven hath revealed to me in a vision that the enemies of the dynasty have spoken ill of me, have maligned me, and have questioned my divine power. i have therefore come to bid farewell of thee!" the empress, who was seated with madame vyrubova, and the old countess ignatieff, rose from her chair, pale to the lips. "you--you--you are surely not going, holy father!" she gasped. "you cannot mean that you will desert us!" she cried. "what of poor little alexis?" and the words faded from her lips. "yes, truly i am going! our enemies have, alas, triumphed! evil triumphs over good in this terrible war," was his slow, impressive answer. "of alexis,"--and he shook his shock head mournfully. "ah, no!" shrieked the unhappy empress hysterically. "listen!" commanded the deep-voiced saint very gravely. "i must not conceal the truth from thee. on the twentieth day of my departure, thy son alexis will be taken ill--and alas! the poor lad will not recover!" madame vyrubova pretended to be horrified at this terrible prophecy, while the empress shrieked and fainted. whereupon the saint crossed himself piously and, turning, with bent head left the room. within half-an-hour he was on his way to his twelve "spiritual brides" in his sordid house at pokrovsky. the empress lived for the next twenty days in a state of terrible dread. alas! true to the holy father's prophecy the boy, on the twentieth day, was seized with a sudden mysterious illness which puzzled the court physicians who were hastily summoned from petrograd. indeed, a dozen of the best medical men in the capital held a consultation, but opinions differed regarding the cause of the haemorrhage, and the empress again sent wild telegrams urging her pet saint to return. little did she dream that her favourite lady-in-waiting had six hours before administered a dose of a certain secret chinese drug to the young tsarevitch and purposely caused the illness which the rascal had predicted. time after time did her majesty telegraph, urging her "holy father" to return and save the boy's life, signing herself affectionately "your sister alec." yet the wires were dumb in reply. an imperial courier brought back no response. the doctors, as before, could make nothing out of the poor boy's illness, and were unable to diagnose it. the charlatan was playing with the life of the heir of the romanoffs. it has, however, been since revealed by analysis that the compound sold to rasputin by the chemist--a secret administrator of drugs to petrograd society named badmayeff--was a poisonous powder produced from the new horns of stags, mixed with the root of "jen-shen." in the early spring when the stags shed their horns there appear small knobs where the new horns will grow. it is from these that the chinese obtain the powder which, when mixed with "jen-shen," produces a very strong medicine highly prized in china and thibet as being supposed to rejuvenate old persons, and to act as a kind of love-philtre. when used in strong doses it produces peculiar symptoms, and also induces dangerous haemorrhage. it is evident from evidence i have recently obtained, that on the twentieth day after rasputin's departure the high priestess of his cult, madame vyrubova, administered to the poor helpless little lad a strong dose in his food. day followed day; she increased that dose, until the poor little boy's condition became most precarious, and the deluded empress was equally frantic with grief. at any moment he might die, the doctors declared. one night rasputin returned quite unexpectedly without having replied even once to the tsaritza's frantic appeals. he made a dramatic appearance in her private boudoir, dressed in sandals and his monk's habit, as though he had just returned from a pilgrimage. "i have come to thee, o lady, to try and save thy son!" he announced earnestly in that deep raucous voice of his, crossing himself piously as was his constant habit. the distracted empress flew to the boy's room where the mock-saint laid his hands upon the lad's clammy brow and then falling upon his knees prayed loudly in his strange jumble of scraps of holy writ interspersed with profanity, that curious jargon which always impressed his "sister-disciples." "thy son will recover," declared the saint, thus for the second time impressing upon her majesty that his absence from court would inevitably cause the boy's death. "but why, holy father, did you leave us?" demanded the empress when they were alone together ten minutes afterwards. "because thou wert prone to believe ill of me," was his stern reply. "i will not remain here with those who are not my friends." "ah! forgive me!" cried the hysterical woman, falling upon her knees and wildly kissing his dirty hand. "remain--remain here always with us! i will never again think ill of thee, o holy father! all that is said is by your enemies--who are also mine." the pious rascal's house in the gorokhovaya, besides being the meeting-place of the society women who, believers in "table turning," were his sister-disciples, was also the active centre of german intrigues. it was the centre of germany's frantic effort to absorb the russian empire. twice each week meetings were held of that weird cult of "believers" of whom the most sinister whisperings were heard from the neva to the black sea. the "sister-disciples" were discussed everywhere. the "holy father" still retained his two luxurious suites of rooms, one in the winter palace, and the other in tsarskoe-selo, but he seldom occupied them at night, for he was usually at his own house receiving in secret one or other of his "friends" of both sexes. his influence over both nicholas ii and his german wife was daily increasing, while he held petrograd society practically in the hollow of his hand. now and then, in order to justify his title of "saint" he would, with the connivance of a mujik of his siberian village, who was his confederate, perform a "miracle" upon some miserable poor person who could easily be bribed and afterwards packed off to some distant part of the empire so that he, or she, could tell no further tales. a hundred roubles goes far in russia. the prime minister sturmer, the blackmailer protopopoff, the dissolute bishop teofan, a court official named sabouroff, and ivanitski, a high official in the ministry for foreign affairs, all knew the absurd farce of these mock-miracles, yet it was to the interest of them that rasputin should still hold grip over the weak-minded empress and that crowd of foolish women of the court who had become his "sister-disciples." oh! that we in britain were in ignorance of all this! surely it is utterly deplorable. the men mentioned, together with half-a-dozen others with high-sounding titles, were bent upon ruining russia, and giving her over body and soul as prey to germany. all had been arranged, even to the price they were each to receive for the betrayal of their country. this was told to the empress time after time by count kokovtsov, the adjunct-minister of the interior dzhunkovsky, the grand dukes nicholas michailovitch, dmitri pavlovitch, and others. but her majesty would listen to nothing against her pet "saint," the divine director, that disgracefully erotic humbug who pretended that he could heal or destroy the little tsarevitch. when any stories were told of him, anna, her favourite lady-in-waiting, would declare that they were pure inventions of those jealous of "dear gregory's" position and influence. while boris sturmer, frantically scheming for a separate peace with germany, was with his traitorous gang engineering all sorts of disasters, outrages and military failures in order to prevent the russian advance, kurloff, another treacherous bureaucrat, sat in the ministry of the interior collecting the gangs of the "black hundred," those hired assassins whom he clothed in police-uniforms and had instructed in machine-gun practice. rasputin and protopopoff were now the most dominant figures in the sinister preparations to effect russia's downfall. rasputin was busy taking bribes on every hand for placing his associates into official positions and blackmailing society women who, having been his "disciples," had, from one cause or another, left his charmed circle. protopopoff, who once posed as our friend and hobnobbed; with mr lloyd george, was a man of subtle intrigue. from being a friend of britain, as he pretended to be when he came here as vice-president of the duma, he was enticed away by germany to become the catspaw of the kaiser, and was hand in glove with the holy rascal, with his miracle-working, behind the throne. rasputin, himself receiving heavy payments from germany, had acquired already the most complete confidence of the tsar and tsaritza; indeed, to such an extent that no affair of state was even decided by the weak-kneed autocrat without the horse-stealer's evil counsel. loyal to his potsdam paymaster, rasputin gave his advice with that low and clever cunning which ever distinguished him. he gave it as a loyal russian, but always with the ulterior motive of extending the tentacles of german influence eastward. in the voluminous confidential report here before me as i write, the disclosures of the rise and fall of rasputin, i find an interesting memorandum concerning a certain paul rodzevitch, son of a member of the council of the empire. alexander makaroff, one of the three private secretaries of the emperor, had died suddenly of heart disease, the result of a drinking bout at the old donon, and at the dinner-table of the imperial family at tsarskoe-selo the matter was being discussed, rasputin being present. he was unkempt, unwashed--with untrimmed beard, and a filthy black coat greasy at the collar, and his high boots worn down at heel, as became a "holy man." the tsar was deploring the death of this fellow makaroff, a person whose evil life was notorious in petrograd, and whose young wife--then only twenty--had followed the example of the empress, and had become a "sister-disciple." "friend!" exclaimed the "saint" with pious upward glance, for he had the audacity to address the emperor thus familiarly, "friend! thou needst not seek far for another secretary; i know of one who is accomplished, loyal and of noble birth. he is paul rodzevitch. i will bring him to thee to-morrow as thy new secretary--and he will serve thee well." his majesty expressed satisfaction, for the holy man, the holiest man in all holy russia, as was his reputation, had spoken. next day the good-looking young fellow was appointed, and into his hand was given his majesty's private cipher. none knew, until it was revealed by the band of russian patriots united to unmask the spy, that this fellow rodzevitch had spent two years in germany before the war, or that he was in receipt of a gratuity of twenty-five thousand marks annually from the spy bureau in the koniggratzer-strasse in berlin! by this means rasputin placed a spy of germany upon all the tsar's most confidential correspondence. madame vyrubova, and the infernal witchdoctor, were already all-dominant. sturmer and protopopoff were but pawns in the subtle and desperate game which germany was playing in russia. the food scarcity engineered by kurloff; the military scandals engineered by a certain creature of the kaiser's called nicolski; the successful plot which resulted in the destruction of a great munition works with terrible loss of life near petrograd; the chaos of all transport; the constant wrecking of trains, and the breakdown of the strategic line from the arctic coast across the lapland marshes, were all combining to hurl the empire to the abyss of destruction. one day the grand duke nicholas visited tsarskoe-selo, where he had a private interview with the emperor--rasputin's creature, the new secretary rodzevitch, being present. the emperor had every belief in the man's loyalty. his majesty, weak and easily misled, never dreamed of treachery within his private cabinet. the words spoken by the grand duke that afternoon were terse, and to the point. "the empire is doomed!" he said. "this verminous fellow rasputin--the man contemptuously known in the slums of the capital as `grichka,' is working out germany's plans. i have watched and discovered that he is the associate of pro-germans, and that his is the hand which in secret is directing all these disasters which follow so quickly upon each other." "but he is a friend of protopopoff!" the emperor exclaimed. "protopopoff has been to england. he has gone over the munition factories in scotland that are working for us; he has visited the british fleet, and when i gave him audience a few weeks ago, he expressed himself as a firm supporter of our allies. read his speech in the duma only the night before last!" "i have already read it," replied the grand duke. "but it does not alter my opinion in the least. he is hand-in-glove with the monk and with the duke of mecklenburg-strelitz. why you continue to have either of them about you i cannot imagine. if you do not dismiss them, then the house of romanoff must fall, i tell you that," he declared quite bluntly. his majesty pandered for a moment and replied--"then i will give orders to the censor that the names of neither are in future to be mentioned publicly." this is all the notice the emperor took of the grand duke's first warning. the people did not dare in future to mention "grichka," for fear of instant arrest. since the outbreak of war mother grundy has expired in every country in europe. an unfortunate wave of moral irresponsibility seems to have swept the world, and nowhere has it been more apparent than in russia. this unwashed rascal who posed as a saint, who, by his clever manoeuvres, his secret drugs and his bribes, had become so popular with the people, was entirely unsuspected by the simple folks who comprise the bulk of russia's millions. to them he was a "holy man" whom the great tsar admired and fed at his table. no one suspected the miracle-worker to be the secret ambassador of the assassin of potsdam. everywhere he went--moscow, kazan, odessa, nijni, and other cities, he was fierce in his hatred of the kaiser, and while cleverly scheming for the downfall of his own people, he was yet at the same time urging them to prosecute the war. a man of abnormal intellect, he was a criminal lunatic of that types which the world sees once every century; a man whose physical powers were amazing, and who though dirty and verminous, with long hair unbrushed and beard untrimmed for a year at a time, could exercise a weird and uncanny fascination which few women, even the most refined, could resist. the terms upon which rasputin was with the empress it has been given to me to reveal in this volume. they would have been beyond credence if the german spy who had been placed as secretary to the emperor, had been loyal to his unscrupulous employers. but he was not. money does much in these war-days, and in consequence of a big payment made to him by rasputin's enemies, the patriots of russia--and they were many--he intercepted a letter sent by the empress to her "holy father" early in --a copy of which i have in the formidable dossier of confidential documents from which i am culling these curious details. the "holy father" in hair-shirt and sandals had gone forth upon a pilgrimage, and the female portion of petrograd society were in consequence desolate. the house in the gorokhovaya stood with its closed wooden shutters. sturmer was at the empress's side, but protopopoff--satan in a silk hat as he has been called--had gone upon a mission to paris. the letter before me was addressed in her majesty's hand to rasputin, at the verkhotursky monastery at perm, whither he had retired in order to found a provincial branch of his "believers" and initiate them into the mysteries of his new religion. this amazing letter which plainly shows the terms upon which the empress of russia was with the convicted criminal from pokrovsky, contains many errors in russian, for the german wife of the tsar has never learnt to write russian correctly, and reads as follows-- "holy father! why have you not written? why this long dead silence when my poor heart is hourly yearning for news of you, and for your words of comfort? "i am, alas! weak, but i love you, for you are all in all to me. oh! if i could but hold your dear hand and lay my head upon your shoulder! ah! can i ever forget that feeling of perfect peace and blank forgetfulness that i experience when you are near me? now that you have gone, life is only one grey sea of despair. there was a court last night, but i did not attend. instead, anna (madame vyrubova) and i read your sweet letters together, and we kissed your picture. "as i have so often told you, dear father, i want to be a good daughter of christ. but oh! it is so very difficult. help me, dear father. pray for me. pray always for alexis (the tsarevitch). come back to us at once. nikki (the tsar) says we cannot endure life without you, for there are so many pitfalls before us. for myself, i am longing for your return--longing--always longing! "without our weekly meetings all is gloom. "only the everlasting toll of war! germany is winning--as she will surely win. but we must all of us maintain a brave face towards our russian public. in you alone i have faith. may god bring you back to us very soon. alexis is asking for you daily. we are due to go to yalta, but shall not move before we meet here. i embrace you, and so do nikki and anna. "your devoted daughter, alec." has history ever before recorded such an astounding letter written by a reigning empress to a sham saint? it must not be thought that rasputin was without enemies. he had hosts of them, but in an almost incredible manner he seemed to scent danger wherever it lurked, and eluded the various traps set for him. this was probably because he had surrounded himself by creatures ready to do any evil work he ordered. not only had he earned the most bitter vengeance of wronged husbands and fathers, but he had against him a small league of patriotic russians, men and women, headed by a civil servant named vilieff, who had banded themselves together with a view to tear away the veil and unmask the traitor. the rascal knew this, and was ever upon his guard, while sturmer and kurloff used their great influence for his protection. at the same time rasputin had corrupted the russian church in its centres of power and administration until nearly half its high ecclesiastics were agents of germany. in order to exhibit a swift, relentless hand in dealing with any enemy who should arise against him, rasputin one evening cordially invited vilieff, who had sworn to open the eyes of the people to the mock-monk's villainy. indeed, he had travelled to far-off pokrovsky and collected much damning evidence concerning grichka's past. kurloff was at dinner to meet the young man, the bait offered by rasputin being that the official of the ministry of the interior intended to promote him to a highly lucrative post in his department. according to a statement made by the monk's wily accomplice, yepantchine, who afterwards came forward and made so many revelations, only the trio sat down to dinner, whereupon the traitorous bureaucrat openly suggested that the band he had formed against rasputin should be betrayed to the palace police, in return for which he had ready for him five thousand roubles in cash, and, in addition, would there and then appoint him to a lucrative position in the chancellerie of the ministry. on hearing this, the young man sprang up and angrily denounced both monk and minister as traitors, declaring that he would at once expose the effort to purchase his silence. without further ado rasputin drew a revolver and, secretly approaching him, shot him dead. his body was found in the snow near the corner of the kazanskaya early next morning. the dead man's friends, who knew of his visit to rasputin that night, informed the police, but the monk was already before them. at dawn he sought the emperor at the tsarskoe-selo, and found him in his dressing-gown. to him he complained that enemies were making a disgraceful charge against him, and added:-- "i seek thy protecting hand, friend. wilt thou give orders to the police to leave me unmolested?" the emperor, who believed in him as implicitly as his wife, at once gave orders over the telephone, and thus the murder was suppressed. a week later a man named rouchine, who had, with yepantchine, assisted him in his mock-miracles, discovered him with a certain swede named wemstedt, who was chief of the german secret service in stockholm, and who had come in disguise to petrograd to obtain certain reports furnished by sturmer. his secret visit to rasputin's house was to get the documents for transmission to germany, and to make one of the large monthly payments to the monk for his services as the kaiser's agent. their meeting was watched by rouchine, who overheard greater part of the conversation of the pair ere the "saint" became aware there was an eavesdropper. instantly he scented danger, for he trusted nobody; the monk made no sign, but when wemstedt had gone he placed a bottle of vodka in a spot where he knew that rouchine would find it. as he expected, his servant drank a glass, and within half-an-hour he expired in terrible agony, with rasputin jeering at him in his death-throes. it is computed that during no fewer than twenty persons lost their lives in consequence of visits to that sinister house within the shadow of the winter palace. armed with those secret chinese drugs, the pious assassin could administer baneful doses which proved fatal hours afterwards, with symptoms which completely deceived the doctors. knowing his own danger, he one day hit upon a new plan for his own protection, and when at dinner at the imperial table he, addressing the empress, said: "a vision of the fixture hath to-day been revealed unto me! it is a warning--one that thou surely shouldst heed! when i die, alexis will live but forty days longer. surrounded as i am by those who seek my downfall and death, i know not what plots may be formed against me. i only know that assuredly alexis will only survive me through forty days. if god wills it, my end may be to-morrow!" he added, raising his eyes piously. at this the empress betrayed terrible distress. but the ruse of the wily scoundrel worked well, for the personal protection at once afforded him by order of the tsar was as complete as the surveillance upon the emperor himself. chapter four. the "hidden hand" of berlin. rasputin, though revealing himself constantly as a blasphemous blackguard, had by the middle of become the greatest power in russia. through his good offices germany hoped to crush the empire. examination of the confidential reports concerning his scandalous activities here before me causes me to halt aghast that the imperial court, which i attended in peace time, petrograd society, and the hard-working classes in russia, should have become so completely and so utterly hypnotised by his disgraceful "religion." the latter had eaten into the empire's heart, causing an outburst of open and disgraceful immorality in the higher circles--a new "sensation" that was appalling. in moscow, kazan, tambov, and other cities, "circles" of the "sister-disciples" had been eagerly formed, together with a branch which were meeting in secret at a small old-world monastery called jedelevo, in the province of simbirsk, and about whose doings many scandalous whispers reached petrograd. "grichka" possessed the reputation of being a popular preacher. that was not so. he had never been ordained a priest; he was a pure adventurer, and did not belong to any ecclesiastical order. therefore he had no licence to preach in a church. he was simply a siberian peasant convicted of theft, blackmail, and outrage, who had set himself up to be a "holy man." and as such, all russia, from the empress downwards, accepted him and swallowed any lie that he might utter. truly the whole situation was amazing in this twentieth century. he preached often to his "sister-disciples" in their _salons_, and sometimes at "at homes," where fast society women who had fallen beneath the pious scoundrel's fascination hoped to make other converts. to such "at homes" only young and pretty women were ever invited. rasputin had no use for the old and angular. one evening one of these reunions for recruiting purposes was held by the yellow-toothed old baroness guerbel, at her big house in the potemkinskaya, and to it a young married woman, wife of an officer named yatchevski, who was well-known in petrograd, had been invited. her husband, hearing of this, called three of his own burly cossacks, and next night they concealed themselves close to rasputin's house. there they waited until the bearded "holy man" emerged to go upon his usual evening visit to the winter palace; when the men suddenly sprang upon him, and hustling him into a narrow side street, stripped him of his finely embroidered silk shirt, of the usual russian model, his wide velvet knickerbockers, and his patent-leather top-boots. after that they administered to the fellow a sound and well-deserved thrashing, having first gagged and bound him. afterwards they placed him, attired only in his underwear, upon a manure heap in a neighbouring stable-yard, while the clothes they had taken from him were packed in a big cardboard costume-box and delivered by special messenger privately to the empress at the palace. her majesty was, of course, furiously indignant that her dear "father" should thus be made, sport of. at once a rigid inquiry was ordered, but the perpetrators of the well-merited punishment were never discovered. rasputin was ever active as head of the camarilla. the attention of the holy synod had time after time been called to the amazing exploits of this pious charlatan, until at last it was deemed expedient to hold yet another inquiry, into the fellow's conduct. supplied with german money, he employed spies on every hand to keep him informed of any untoward circumstances, or any undue inquisitiveness. so he quickly heard of this proposed inquiry and consulted bishop teofan, brother of one of his favourite "sister-disciples," who lived in siberia. that night both monk and bishop sought the tsar and tsaritza. rasputin declared angrily that there was a most formidable plot against himself. he therefore intended to leave petrograd, and return to siberia for ever. "because by divine grace i possess the power off healing, thy church is jealous of me," he declared to the emperor. "the holy synod is seeking my overthrow! always have i acted for the benefit of mankind, and so through me thy dear son is under god's grace. but the russian church seeks to drive me forth. therefore, i must bow to the inevitable--and i will depart?" "no! no!" cried the empress in despair. then, turning quickly to her husband, who had left some important business of state, which he was transacting in his private cabinet with the war minister, her majesty exclaimed: "nikki. this ecclesiastical interference cannot be tolerated. it is abominable! we cannot lose our dear father! order a list of his enemies in the church to be made, and at once dismiss them all. put our friends into their places." "if thou wilt leave matters entirely to me," said the sham saint, addressing the feeble yet honest autocrat, "i will furnish the list, together with names of their successors." "i give thee a free hand, dear gregory," was the emperor's reply. within twelve hours all those in the russian church who had sought to unmask the pious rascal found themselves dismissed, while in their places were appointed certain of the most drunken and dissolute characters that in all the ages have ever disgraced the christian religion, their head being the arch-plotter bishop teofan. about this time, after many secret meetings of the camarilla at rasputin's house, protopopoff succeeded in bribing certain generals at the front with cash--money supplied from germany, to prevent a further offensive. in consequence, at a dozen points along the russian lines the troops were defeated and hurled back. this created exactly the impression desired by the camarilla, namely, to show to the russian people that germany was invincible, and that a separate peace was far preferable to continued hostility. it was to secure this that rasputin and his gang were incessantly working. scandal after scandal was brought to light, and more than one officer of the high russian command was arrested and tried by court-martial. rasputin and protopopoff had now become more than ever unscrupulous. generals and others who had accepted bribes to further germany's cause were secretly betrayed to the ministry of war, care, however, always being taken that they could produce no absolute evidence against those who had previously been their paymasters. a notorious case was that of general maslovsky, who, before the war, commanded the thirteenth army corps at smolensk. he, with general rosen, commandant of the twenty-third army corps at warsaw, had been induced by a "sister-disciple" of rasputin's--a pretty young frenchwoman--to accept a large sum paid into his account at the volga kama bank in moscow, provided that the russians retreated in the novo georgievsk region. this they did, allowing great quantities of machine-guns, ammunition and motor lorries to fall into the enemy's hands. in order to create scandal and public distrust, the "holy man" secretly denounced these two traitors, who were arrested and tried by court-martial at samara. the prisoners in turn revealed the fact that big payments had been made by the young frenchwoman. so she, in turn, was also arrested. rasputin, however, did not lift a finger to save his catspaw. she declared that she had simply been the tool of the mock-monk, but the latter privately informed the president of the court that the young frenchwoman was a well-known spy of germany known to the court, and whom he had held in suspicion for a considerable time. no word against rasputin's loyalty was ever believed, for was he not the most intimate and loyal friend of both emperor and empress? therefore the court-martial found the prisoners guilty, and the trio paid the penalty of all spies--they were shot in the barrack-square of samara! this is but one illustration of rasputin's crafty intrigue and cool unscrupulousness. possessed of a deeply criminal instinct as he was, it was impossible for him to do an honest action. he never failed to betray his friends, or even send them to their graves upon false charges secretly laid, if by so doing he could further his own despicable ends. the dissolute rascal, possessed of superhuman cunning, held russia in the hollow of his hand, and aided by his fellow-scoundrel, protopopoff, he could make or break the most powerful men in a single hour. that he was in active communication with germany, and that the vile plots against the russian arms were being manufactured in berlin, is plainly shown by the following letter, which after his death was discovered, together with a quantity of other highly incriminating correspondence--which i shall disclose later--in a small safe concealed beneath the stone floor of the well-stocked wine-cellar at the house in the gorokhovaya. it is in one of the sentence-ciphers of the german secret service, but fortunately in the same safe the de-cipher was found, and by it that communication as well as others is now revealed. the letter is written upon thin pale-yellow paper, so that it might be the more easily concealed. it had probably been bound up in the cardboard cover of a book and thus transmitted. this letter before me reads as follows:-- "number . august th, . "your reports upon the activity of krusenstern (commander of the th army corps), and also upon the friendship of sakharoff and yepantchine (two prominent members of the duma), is duly noted. the firm of berchmann brothers, of kiev, are paying into the credit lyonnais in petrograd , roubles to your account, with a similar sum to your friend s. (boris sturmer, prime minister of russia). "instructions are as follows: suggest to s. this plan against the duma. from the archives of the ministry of the interior he can obtain a list of the names and places of residence of thousands of russian revolutionists of the extreme school. these he can, if we order it, place in prison or have them tried by court-martial and shot. he will, however, act most generously and secretly. he will, under promise of protection send them forth as his agents, well supplied with funds, and thus arrange for a considerable number of pro-german social democrats to enter petrograd and work alongside the russian anarchists, tolstoyans, pacifists, communists and red socialists. with such a widespread propaganda of wild and fierce agitators in the munition factories, we shall be able to create strikes and commit outrages at any moment instructions are given. they should be ordered to continually urge the working men to strike and to riot, and thus begin the movement that is to make europe a federation of socialist republics. this plan attracts the working-class, and has already succeeded on the clyde and in ireland. your only serious opponent is gutchkoff, but you will arrange with the empress that his activities be at once diverted into another sphere. "enlist on our side as many members of the duma as possible. furnish from time to time a list of payments made by you, and the firm of berchmann will sustain your balance at the credit lyonnais. "we await the result of your good services, which are highly appreciated by his majesty, and which will be amply and most generously rewarded when we have russia in our hands, which will not be long. "messages: tell s. (sturmer, the pro-german prime minister and a creature of the empress) to be extremely careful of the grand duke dmitri. he holds a compromising letter written by nada litvinoff regarding her attempt to suborn brusiloff. the woman litvinoff is reported to be staying at the regina hotel in petrograd. no effort should be spared to obtain and destroy that letter, as it is very compromising. professor miliukoff should be removed. ten thousand roubles will be paid for that service. j. or b. might be approached. both are in need of money. "instruct anna (madame vyrubova) to tell the empress to receive a woman named geismann, who will demand audience at noon on august th. she carries a verbal message from the emperor. it is important that you should know countess zia kloieff, of voroneje. she possesses influence in a certain military quarter that will eventually be most useful and highly essential. "h--(a spy whose identity is up to the present unknown) has fixed august th, at : a.m., for the disaster at the shell-filling factory at krestovsky. an electric line is laid beneath the neva, and all is prepared. "salutations from all three of us.--n." such were the secret instructions received from berlin by the murderous charlatan who posed as one of the most loyal russians in the empire. his reply, of which a copy is appended--for strangely--enough he was a businesslike rascal--is as follows. it is brief but to the point:-- "yours and remittances received. s. already at work. have informed her majesty. all is being prepared for our great coup. the more disasters and loss of life in munition factories the better the impression towards yourselves. s. has already sent four hundred extreme revolutionists to the front with money and instructions. have noted all your points. martos takes this to helsingfors, and will await your reply with any further orders. "have had no instructions concerning the englishman c. please send. suggest imprisonment upon false charge of espionage. if so, please send incriminating papers to produce as evidence.--g." the scoundrel's reply here before me is, in itself, in his own handwriting, the most damning evidence against him. that sturmer and protopopoff acted upon those instructions has since become apparent. events have shown it. puppets in the hands of the emperor william, with money flowing to them in an ever-endless stream from businesslike sources entirely unsuspected by the highly patriotic banks handling those substantial amounts, they were swiftly yet surely undermining the greatness of the russian empire and seriously cutting the claws of the russian bear. the "russian steam-roller," as certain english prophets--oh! save them!--were so fond of calling the muscovite army in the early days of the war, was growing rusty for want of proper lubrication. rasputin and his friends were placing its machinery in the reverse gear by their marvellously well-concealed intrigues, and their lavish distribution of money to those long-haired revolutionists who had honestly believed that by removing the autocrat they would liberate their dear russia. no plot more subtle, more widespread, or more utterly amazing has ever been conceived in the whole world's history than the one which i am here disclosing. a convicted criminal, a mere unmannered and uncouth peasant from far siberia, held both emperor and empress of russia beneath his thumb. he gave to both of them orders which they weakly obeyed. if one of the erotic scoundrel's "sister-disciples" asked a favour--the appointment of lover or of husband to a lucrative post--he went at once to the emperor, and actually with his own illiterate hand wrote out the orders for his majesty to sign. and to that unkempt blackguard, who seldom indulged in the luxury of a bath. her majesty the empress bowed her knee, honestly believing that the almighty had endowed him with powers superhuman, and that he could cause disaster or death whenever he willed it. further amazing and incriminating letters are before me as i write, and i shall print more of this secret correspondence in order that readers in great britain may know the depths of germany's villainy and the exact methods by which russia has been betrayed. the official _dossier_ concerning the crimes and conspiracies of the arch-scoundrel is astounding. it becomes increasingly amazing as one turns over its voluminous pages, its confidential reports, its copies of telegrams dispatched under fictitious names, since obtained from the telegraph bureaux of russia, and its originals of secret instructions from berlin. in the latter one finds the subtle hand of the notorious steinhauer, the head of the kaiser's spy-bureau, the fair-bearded, middle-aged prussian who accompanied the german emperor to buckingham palace on his last visit to london, and who was one of the select party of german motorists who came to tour england with prince henry of prussia at their head. it devolved upon myself to accompany and watch that tour very closely. even then one department in whitehall had not been chloroformed by the dope of the sleep-quietly-in-your-beds party--a department in the formation of which i had had some hand. steinhauer i had met in germany, though he did not know me, and when he came to england with his imperial highness, as herr eschenburg of stuttgart, driving his big red "mercedes," i considered that it was high time to keep a strict eye upon him--which i did. what i discovered of his movements and of his associates has been of greatest advantage since the outbreak of war. no more expert spy exists in all the world today than "herr eschenburg of stuttgart", whose real name is steinhauer, known in the german secret service as "number seventy." the _dossier_ here placed at my disposal shows that herr steinhauer visited rasputin in petrograd four times before august, , while his underlings arrived at the house in the gorokhovaya many times after the two empires had come to grips. rasputin, in his unique position as autocrat aver the autocrat, felt himself the personal agent of the kaiser, and as such seems to have somewhat resented steinhauer's rather arrogant orders. indeed, he complained bitterly to the german emperor, who, in reply, propitiated the siberian peasant by explaining that he was so occupied by the campaign against his enemies that he left all matters of detail to "our trusted and loyal friend steinhauer, whose actions and orders are as my own." on august th, , there arrived in petrograd a pretty dark-haired young dutch woman named helene geismann. she presented a letter of introduction to rasputin that evening at his house, and was promised audience of her majesty the empress at noon next day. the monk was at tsarskoe-selo when the young woman called. it was a meeting day of the higher, or court circle of the "sister-disciples," such seances being held at five o'clock each friday afternoon. three new "disciples" had been initiated into the mysteries of the mock-pious rascal's new "religion." their names were the baroness zouieff, and mesdemoiselles olga romanenkoff and nadjezda tavascherne, the two latter being of the noblest families of moscow, and all moving in the court entourage. nicholas ii was away at the front, therefore rasputin on such occasions ruled the empire, and actually signed with his own hand orders and appointments, as his majesty's representative. when the emperor was absent the dirty, unkempt peasant, who called himself a monk, usurped his place in the imperial household. through this unprincipled scoundrel and blackmailer germany was cleverly working to undermine and effect the fall of the muscovite empire. no expense was being spared, nor were there any scruples. germany intended that the russian defensive should crumble. when the empress received the young woman geismann, an emissary from berlin and the bearer of several documents, including an autograph letter from the kaiser, the "holy father" was also present. the superstitious, neurotic empress could do nothing without the advice of the man who had by his mock-piety and his sensuous "religion" so completely entranced her. she, like her weak, narrow-minded husband, had become completely hypnotised by the dissolute charlatan, in whose hands lay absolute power. when the kaiser's messenger presented the secret letter to the empress, she also handed another to rasputin. this was found among the contents of the safe in the basement of "grichka's" house, and is in german, as follows:-- "_strictly private and confidential_. "general headquarters in france, montmedy, august th, . "your excellent service to our empire has been reported to me by herr steinhauer. i congratulate you, happy in the knowledge that the empress alexandra has, in yourself, such a good and wise counsellor. you have done much, but there is still more good work for you to accomplish. "your friends must see that there is an increasing lack of material and ammunition, that information reaches berlin regarding orders for guns, explosives and automobiles placed in england, in order that we can watch for them near the finland coast, and destroy them. disasters on railways, in munition works and elsewhere are advisable. steinhauer is sending you six trusted agents to effect these. your friends must afford them official protection, and they must be also afforded opportunity. "i have also sent certain suggestions to her majesty the empress which she will discuss with you. your two most dangerous enemies at the moment appear to be prince yuri lvov, who has a great following, and the man from tiflis, m. cheidze. if their activities could be ended, you would be in far less danger. it may be possible for you to arrange this. consult with the empress. it is my imperial will that the payment arranged between us shall be doubled from this date. salutations. "wilhelm r. and i." could any letter be more incriminating? the kaiser, with his constant appeals to almighty god, was suggesting outrage and assassination to his paid agent--the man who, aided by the prime minister sturmer and the blackmailer protopopoff, held the future of russia in his unwashed hands! for half-an-hour the young dutch woman, the kaiser's secret messenger, was kept waiting in an ante-room while the empress consulted with her "holy father." then at last her majesty handed the woman an autograph letter to take back to the emperor william. all that is knows of the contents of that note is that it contained a promise that germany should triumph. what chance had poor suffering russia against such crafty underhand conspiracy? every one of her proposed military movements were being betrayed to germany long before they were executed, and thousands of lives of her fine soldiers were daily being sacrificed, while the arch-traitor rasputin continued his career of good-living, heavy-drinking, and bi-weekly "reunions." at these meetings the blackguard usually crossed his hands upon his breast, and with appalling blasphemy declared himself sent by the almighty to deliver russia from the invader. towards all--to society, to those of the immoral cult that he had founded, to russia's millions, he posed as a stern patriot. every one believed him to be so. if not, surely, he would not be so closely intimate with their majesties they argued. nobody in russia dreamed that he was the agent of the kaiser, or that the empress had full knowledge of the great plot in progress. in the following month there occurred a number of mysterious disasters. four explosions occurred in rapid succession; two at petrograd, one at moscow, and one at kostrovna, all involving considerable loss of life, while troop trains were derailed at several important junctions, and other outrages committed, by which it was apparent that german agents were actively work. yet the police were powerless to detect the perpetrators of these dastardly acts. truly the black eagle of prussia had struck its talons deep into russia's heart. late one night rasputin was carousing at his house with the prime minister sturmer and two "sister-disciples," young married women whose names were baroness gliuski and madame pantuhine, well-known in petrograd society for their loose living, and who were helping the plotters and receiving large sums from german sources for their assistance. the "father" had only an hour before returned from tsarskoe-selo, where he had knelt at the bedside of the poor little tsarevitch and then performed a pretended miracle. the truth was that madame vyrubova had administered to the boy in secret several doses of that secret drug with which the mock-monk had provided her. in consequence, he had become ill and his imperial mother had once again called rasputin to "heal" him. this the fellow did, for madame vyrubova withheld the dose, and within four hours of rasputin placing his dirty hands upon the poor boy's brow and uttering those cabalistic nine words of jargon from one of the blasphemous prayers which the scoundrel had written for use by the "sister-disciples," the heir had recovered. and in that way, with his degenerate confederate, the rascal worked his "miracles." the four were seated around the monk's dining-table, smoking and drinking, the two women ever and anon devotedly kissing the "saint's" dirty hands, when his body-servant entered with a note for his master. as rasputin read it his face fell. "danger!" he gasped. "what is it?" inquired the bearded prime minister eagerly, putting down his glass of champagne untouched. "letchitzki! he is arrested!" "letchitzki!" echoed boris sturmer, who was in uniform, as he had been to a diplomatic function at the united states embassy that night. "this is indeed serious for us! why is he arrested? who has dared to do that?" "goutchkoff, minister of munitions, has ordered his arrest for embezzlement--ninety thousand roubles!" "curse goutchkoff!" cried sturmer, starting up. "in that case, our friend protopopoff, as minister of the interior, is powerless to act in his interest!" "is it really very serious?" asked the fair-haired young baroness, who was at that moment holding the "saint's" hand. "serious!" cried the uncouth siberian peasant, who had so completely hypnotised both the women. "very. if his trial took place he would certainly expose us! we cannot afford that. he has sent me this secret message placing the onus of his release upon me, and i must secure it at once. he has documents, letters i have written him. if they were found, then the whole affair must become public property!" "that must not be!" declared sturmer. "at any moment miliukoff, or that young lawyer kerensky, may get to know." "kerensky was again arrested yesterday at my orders for his speech in the duma," said rasputin. "i agree. the prosecution of letchitzki must not proceed. it is far too dangerous." "is there anything i can do?" asked the pretty baroness, one of the most unscrupulous women in russia. "yes," replied the monk. "you know the minister goutchkoff. go to him early to-morrow morning, and appeal on letchitzki's behalf. take with you ninety thousand roubles which i will give you as soon as the banks open. pretend to the minister that he is your lover, that he has embezzled the money to pay for presents to yourself--then hand over the sum missing." "excellent idea!" declared sturmer. "you are always ingenious when cornered, gregory!" "by that we shall clear the way for further action. we must both see the empress at once. it is not yet too late," rasputin added, and the merry quartette at once broke up, the "sister-disciples" to their own homes, and the monk to drive to the palace. both conspirators, so well-known, passed the sentries unchallenged, and traversing the long corridors to the private apartments, went by the gigantic cossack on duty at the end, and through the big swing-doors to the luxurious wing of the great palace. it was already long past midnight, and the only person they could find was the tsar's eldest daughter, the grand duchess olga, who had with the eldest of her sisters entered rasputin's "sisterhood" a year before. every one, including the servants, had retired. the princess, who was reading an english novel in her own little sitting-room, appeared surprised to see the "holy father" at that hour, but took from him an urgent message to the empress. ten minutes later the tsaritza, in a dainty lace boudoir-cap and rich silk kimono, entered the room where the pair of scoundrels awaited her. when alone, rasputin revealed the fact of letchitzki's arrest, adding: "thou canst realise the great danger to us all. if that man is brought before the court believing that we have not endeavoured to save him, he will, no doubt, reveal and produce certain letters i have sent to him. our plans will then become public, and russia will rise and crush us! at present they do not suspect thee of any pro-german leanings. thou art the great and patriotic tsaritza. but if this prosecution proceeds, then assuredly will the truth become known!" "but, holy father, what can i do?" asked the weak hysterical woman, alarmed and distracted. "thou must telegraph at once to thy husband to order the prosecution to be dropped," said the crafty scoundrel, standing in that erect attitude he was so fond of assuming, with one hand upon his breast and the other behind his back. "i will do all that you wish," was her eager response, and she sat down at once to write the message to the tsar who, on that night, was with his gallant soldiers at the front. "paul letchitzki, under-secretary of the ministry of munitions, has been arrested for embezzlement of public funds," she wrote. "it is highly necessary, for our peace, that the prosecution shall be instantly stopped. every moment's delay means danger. i will explain when you return. telegraph your order for his immediate release and the end of all proceedings against him. i await your acknowledgment.--alec." then, having read the telegram, of which both men approved, she gave rasputin her golden bangle from her wrist. from it was suspended the tiny master-key of the escritoire in her boudoir. "will you, my holy father, fetch me my private cipher-book?" she asked the mock-monk, at the same time bending and kissing his hand. the fellow knew where the little book was kept in such privacy, and in a few moments he had brought it. then sturmer at once sat down and put the message into cipher, afterwards taking it himself to the clerk in the telegraph room on the other side of the palace, for transmission to the emperor. at ten o'clock next morning a reply in code was handed to the empress. when, with the aid of her little book, she de-coded it, she read: "i cannot understand how the prosecution of a thief of whose name i am ignorant can affect us adversely. i have, however, at your desire ordered his release and the suppression of all proceedings.--nikki." to this, the tsaritza, after she had sent a copy of the reassuring despatch to rasputin, replied: "i thank you for your kind generosity. how noble of you! accused was an innocent victim of his enemies, and our action shows that you are open and just. our father and myself anxiously await your return.-- alec." the moment rasputin received the message from the hands of the trusted cossack, ivan khanoff, the personal guardian of the young tsarevitch, whom the empress trusted with all her private correspondence, he telegraphed to boris sturmer at the ministry of foreign affairs, telling him of the order of the tsar. and both laughed triumphantly at each other over the telephone. yet both certainly had had a very narrow escape of exposure, and for the first time the tsaritza saw the handwriting on the wall. chapter five. rasputin's secret orders from berlin. some pages of rasputin's _dossier_ concern his intimate friendship with the imperial family, and more especially with the tsar's daughters, whom the empress herself had placed beneath his "tuition" and influence. it seems that the monk helidor--who because of his patriotism fell out of favour when rasputin commenced to perform his conjuring tricks, which the imperial court believed to be miracles--still retained his friendship with the grand duchess olga, and the governess of the imperial children, the honest and straightforward madame tutcheva. to helidor--who afterwards revealed all he knew to the revolutionary party--the young grand duchess confessed her love for a certain very handsome officer, nicholas loutkievitch, of the imperial guard. she saw him often in the vicinity of the palace, and also when she went to church, and he used to smile at her. "holy father," she said one clay to helidor, "what can i do? i love him. but alas! love is forbidden to me--for i am an imperial princess. it is my torment." helidor had tried to console her by saying that she was young, and that she would love many times before she found the man who was to be her husband. it was surely not strange that the handsome young grand duchess should be attracted by a handsome man, for after all, even imperial princesses are human. helidor, who belonged to the pravoslavny church, under bishop teofan, saw rasputin a few days later and incidentally mentioned the youthful infatuation of the young princess. "oh! i have already cured all that!" said the scoundrel with a laugh. "her infatuation has been dispelled. i have cast the devil out of her." then rasputin boastingly disclosed to helidor certain things which left no doubt in the latter's mind as to the true state of affairs existing at tsarskoe-selo, or the truth of what madame tutcheff had alleged. indeed, among the filed pages of the _dossier_ which deal with this particular incident, is a letter which i venture here to reproduce. rasputin, with all his mujik's shrewdness, preserved many letters written to him by women of all grades, hoping that when cast out of the imperial circle he could use them for purposes of blackmail. here is one of them: "palace of peterhof. "march rd, . "holy father,--dear true friend, we are all desolate without you. when are you returning from pokrovsky? you promised to be here on the third, yet we have had no word from you. dear true friend and father, how is matroysha (rasputin's peasant wife)--and the children? give my love to them. tatiana and i are sending them some things by the courier to-day. each time we go to anna's (madame vyrubova) all is but blank despair. we miss our sweet and helpful reunions, and long always for your return. you, my holy father, are my inestimable friend. i no longer think of nicholas, but of you alone, and of our holy religion. my mother is desolate without you. pray for me. i kiss your dear hands. your loving daughter, olga." i copy this from the great mass of papers before me--the documentary evidence of the tragic story of the downfall of the great imperial house of romanoff--in order that the reader may be able to form some slight idea of the marvellous, almost incredible grip which germany had upon the tsar's family, his household and his nation through the medium of the verminous peasant who had declared himself a heaven-sent apostle of god. the moral atmosphere of the court was shocking. rasputin, chief agent of the kaiser, was posing, just as the kaiser himself posed, as a god-fearing, prayerful man sent by divine-right as a deliverer. the monk's mission was, however, to deliver russia into the hands of germany. the next pages of the _dossier_ contain advice notes of german funds paid to the "saint" through the most unsuspicious channels. as instance of these i copy the following dates and extracts, the actual letters of advice themselves being of a pretended business character and of no importance: april th.--payment to his excellency boris sturmer by jules wick, morskaya , advocate, sum due from the estates of the late baroness nikeleuko, of doubno.-- , roubles. april th.--payment made to gregory rasputin by nicholas pokotilo. address select hotel, ligovskaya , petrograd, representatives of messrs. solovoioff, of odessa.-- , roubles. june st.--payment to his excellency d.a. protopopoff made for rent of lands at vyazma, by alexander koltchak, agent of the estate of prince tchekmareff, less per cent, commission to messrs. montero and company, of kieff;-- , roubles. june rd.--payment to vera zoueff, dancer at luna park, by g. merteus, nevsky , petrograd.-- , roubles. (the woman who passed as a russian was one, bertha riehl, a german dancer, and a secret agent of berlin.) june th.--payment to sophie tatistcheff (who had married baron roukhloff, one of the tsar's secretaries who had control of his majesty's private correspondence), by safonov's bank, in settlement of an insurance claim for property destroyed by fire at poltava. i have copied these in their order of sequence, but the items number over one hundred, and reveal payments of huge sums of german secret service money to rasputin and his friends, thus forming a most illuminating disclosure as to the manner in which russia was rapidly being undermined. with such dark forces at work in the very heart of the empire, it is indeed marvellous that general brusiloff could have effected his superhuman offensive between pripet and the roumanian frontier. he started with his four armies early in june, , and by the middle of august had captured , officers, , men and guns. berlin became seriously alarmed at such a situation. all rasputin's plotting with sturmer, count fredericks, protopopoff, countess ignatieff, madame vyrubova, and a dozen other less prominent but equally importunate officials, together with all the steady stream of german marks flowing into petrograd could not stem the russian tide on the german and austrian front's. the russian "steam-roller" seemed really progressing. the kaiser grew seriously alarmed. at the instigation of count von wedel, his right-hand in espionage and unscrupulous propaganda, a secret message was sent to rasputin--a message which he preserved among his other papers. it runs as follows, and is in the german cipher of the koniggratzer-strasse of which the mock-monk kept a de-cipher in his interesting safe. hence it has been available: "f.g. , -- . "memorandum from `number ,' august th, . "it is deemed of extreme urgency that the offensive of the pripet should at once cease; and be turned into a victory for the central powers as promised us in your despatch of july st. you are not keeping faith with us! what is wrong? s. (sturmer, the prime minister) is inciting the russians to victory in his speeches. "his triumphant telegrams to asquith must cease. they only serve to encourage the allies. this advance must not continue. further, the munition factories at vologda and bologoye have not yet been destroyed as we ordered. we know that k. (a clock-maker named kartzoff who blew up the explosive works at viborg in which lives were lost), who did such good work in that direction, is arrested and shot, together with the woman r. (mdlle. raevesky, whose father was in the ministry of the interior under protopopoff). we note that you gave information to the police concerning both persons, because they became lovers and were likely to open their mouths and thus become dangerous to us. "_secret instructions_:--that to nicholas meder be entrusted the task of destroying the vologda and bologoye works, and that madame fleischer, who lives in volkovo, be appointed as his assistant--each to receive six thousand roubles for their services. "as your efforts to prevent the offensive in the pripet region have failed up to the present, it is ordered that general brusiloff be removed by the means already employed in other enemy countries. send a trustworthy messenger to doctor klouieff, living in the vozkresenskaya, in kazan, to ask for `a tube.' he will know. the contents of the tube introduced into any drink will produce tetanus--with a rapid end. klouieff is german, and may be entirely trusted. brusiloff has a body-servant named ivan, sawvitch who is a friend of boris koltchak, a soldier in the th infantry regiment of muisk. koltchak, who has been in our service for five years, is to be ordered and facilities rendered him to visit his friend sawvitch at general headquarters, and to introduce the contents of the tube into brusiloff's food or drink. for this service you are ordered to pay in secret twenty-five thousand roubles upon its completion. the man sawvitch is in love with the sister of koltchak, a fact which will ease certain difficulties. be careful, however, of marya ustryaloff, who is jealous of the woman in question. "general korniloff may be removed by the accidental explosion of a hand-grenade, in the same manner in which general zhukovsky was removed in march last at pultusk. this service could be entrusted to the soldier paul krizhitsky, of the th grenadiers of moscow, who is a despatch-rider and constantly at the general headquarters. he should examine the bomb--a pine-apple one, in preference, and release the pin by accident. for this service you can pay in secret up to eighteen thousand roubles. "further, it is urgent that you should induce the emperor at once to order the release of the men polenov and levitsky, and the woman erich, who were arrested in the hotel brosi at vitebsk. their papers, if found, must be restored to them. the documents are probably stored in the strong rooms of either the ootchotny bank, in the hevsky, or at lampe's. so get hold of them, as they contain facts incriminating s. (sturmer) and v (madame vyrubova). it is of most urgent importance that the prosecution in question be dismissed, and further, that those who instigated it should be degraded in pursuance of our policy. for this service you will be granted a generous extra payment. s.-- ." the signature, scribbled in blue ink upon these remarkable instructions, is that of the notorious herr steinhauer, the kaiser's chief spy and controller of the whole secret ramifications of imperial germany throughout the civilised world. i venture to publish it in these pages in order to show the devilish cunning of germany, and their frantic efforts, by any underground and dastardly means, to stem the tide of war which threatened to overwhelm them. in consequence of these instructions rasputin immediately set to work to execute the wicked command of his imperial master in berlin. on the day following that secret message being delivered into his hands by a woman dressed as a peasant, as, descending from his carriage, he entered a house in the nevski, he walked into the emperor's private study and, placing his hand across his breast in that mock-pious attitude he so often assumed, he said: "friend! thou hast always been held by thy people to be a just and honest ruler; but in vitebsk those who act in thy imperial name are acting illegally and persecuting two poor men and a woman with motives of revenge. god has placed his holy protecting hand upon our dear russia, and has given victory unto our gallant brusiloff. but if injustice be done in thy imperial name then the divine providence will most assuredly withdraw protection from us." "what is this, holy father?" asked the emperor in great surprise. "at vitebsk two men, polenov and levitsky, together with a woman called erich, three patriotic russians who have, been engaged in red cross work--have, because of the ill-will of the governor wauthier, been apprehended, and false charges instituted against them." "of what nature?" "of communicating with the enemy--a vague charge which to-day may be made against even the most patriotic," replied the monk, the "holy father" of the empress, standing in that same attitude he had at first assumed. "from the holy father of the monastery at vitebsk i have received a confidential, and urgent report that the governor wauthier, an ill-living official, has instituted these false charges in order to conceal his own disgraceful misdeeds, which the woman erich has threatened to expose." then, after a pause, the dissolute monk and secret agent of the german emperor said in that insolent, familiar manner he assumed when addressing the tsar: "friend! this governor, against whom the holy father at vitebsk sends me secret information, should be dismissed and disgraced, and thy three innocent subjects released. if thou wilt permit injustice in thy empire, then the success of thy arms cannot be maintained." "holy father," said the weak impotent monarch, "the governor shall be dismissed. pass me over a telegraph-form." and rasputin took from the writing-table one of the forms upon which the tsar wrote his autocratic orders, and actually at the monk's dictation his majesty wrote an order for this release of the prisoners and the dismissal of the innocent, patriotic governor, against whom the lying agent of the kaiser had, according to his instructions from berlin, laid a charge! truly the great patriotic russian empire had already fallen beneath the "mailed fist," even though thousands of her sons were daily sacrificing their lives to secure her freedom. on the day following, petkoff; who had already opened his separatist propaganda among the ukrainian prisoners, in favour of germany, arrived hot-foot in petrograd, and spent some hours with rasputin at his house, where the prime minister sturmer and his excellency protopopoff were also closeted. the secret meeting was held at three o'clock and lasted until eight, when one of the imperial carriages came from the winter palace, as it did daily, to convey the "holy father" there. the emperor had left again for the front three hours before, but the empress remained. the dirty monk at once sought her, explaining that germany had reached the last limits of her power upon the eastern front, and urgently needed a slackening of the russian offensive. "it is truly god's will that our friends the germans shall not be crushed!" declared the cunning blackguard. "are we not told that if we are smitten by an enemy upon one cheek we should turn the other? i declare to thee that if we press our enemies further, then the wrath of god will assuredly fall upon thy house--and upon thy son the tsarevitch," he said in his low base voice, crossing himself piously the while. indeed, that night, so deeply did the charlatan impress the poor empress that she sat trembling at the fate which must be russia's should brusiloff's victory be maintained. incredible as it may seem, the kaiser now held russia in the hollow of his hand. no despatch from petrograd to the allies; no order for material; no communication of whatever sort, imperial, diplomatic or private, but copies were at once transmitted to the wilhelmstrasse, where the negotiations were known as soon as they were in downing street--and sometimes sooner! within a fortnight of rasputin's grim prophecy of russia's downfall if she further defied the imperial power of germany, the cunning plot to infect general brusiloff with tetanus was attempted by the soldier koltchak, while in a train conveying him from borisoff to petrograd, on a flying visit to consult with the minister of war. happily the plot failed, but the coffee in which the deadly culture had been placed was, alas! unfortunately drunk by a certain major dobrovolski, who died mysteriously and in great agony four days later; the general, of course, being entirely ignorant of berlin's vile plot against him. an attempt was also made upon general korniloff at chernitsa ten days later. a soldier who had no business near, handled a hand-grenade carelessly, just as the general happened to be riding by. the bomb exploded, killing the general's horse on the spot, but he himself escaped with a deep cut over the left eye. everybody, of course, believed it to be a pure accident, therefore the affair was never reported. these two attempts upon the lives of russia's military leaders, the documentary evidence of which exists, were only the forerunners of several others even more ingenious and more desperate, as i shall later on disclose in these pages. the failure of the attempts to assassinate brusiloff and korniloff, and the continuation of the russian offensive, now caused the greatest consternation in berlin, where it was believed that rasputin was neglecting the work for which he was being paid so heavily. a message was conveyed to him through swedish sources telling him of the kaiser's extreme displeasure at the failure of the plans, and reminding him of his majesty's words when he had had secret audience and accepted the imperial proposals to become chief agent of germany in russia. certain further instructions were also given as matters of extreme urgency. the russian progress had aroused the most serious fears in berlin. meanwhile the monk's ambition knew no bounds. with marvellous cunning he was busy blackmailing a number of unfortunate society women who, having entered his cult, had afterwards abandoned it, and while being the practical ruler of russia, because of the tsaritza's devotion to him, yet he was daily plotting with his pro-german friends for the nation's downfall. at each of the reunions of his sister-disciples he would strut about and play the part of "saint." on each occasion he would declare: "if you repulse me, god will abandon you! i am the chosen of god--sent to deliver holy russia!" to those who were sceptical he would speak more plainly and convincingly, saying "if you do not obey me, then i will see that you are punished by my friends." so by this means he surrounded himself by an increasing number of hysterical women whose wealth he exploited, and from whom he took bribes to procure high places, distinctions and decorations for their husbands and brothers or their lovers. indeed, before him the highest officials in the empire bowed, crossed themselves, and kissed his hand--not because he was a priest--but because they constantly feared lest they should incur his displeasure, well knowing that if they did, they would at once be superseded. at peterhof, or at tsarskoe-selo, the actions of the bearded blackguard were believed to be inspired by providence. this dissolute siberian fakir, the madame vyrubova, and her imperial mistress, the tsaritza, formed a trinity which ruled the empire at war; and thousands of brave russian soldiers died in consequence. the pro-german propaganda, fostered in secret by the dissolute three, was permeating every department of the state, and was even being spread among the armies at the front. at each success of the russians the empress would grow irritable and despondent, while the slightest success of the enemy caused her to be wildly jubilant. one day, at one of the seances of the higher circle of sister-disciples held at tsarskoe-selo, news was conveyed to her majesty that the germans were retreating and that their fortified base at vladimir volgnsk, near lutsk, had been captured. thereupon the empress cried in great distress: "why is this allowed! why is this advance against the germans not stopped? russia will never crush germany. she shall not do so! holy father! pray for our dear germany!" "o sister! in thy heart harbour neither fear nor distrust, for indeed god hath revealed unto me that there will be a separate peace and the ultimate triumph of the german arms," replied the mock-saint, assuming his most pious attitude, with his hands crossed upon the russian blouse of rich dark blue silk deeply embroidered with gold, which it was his habit to wear at the seances at court. "while on my pilgrimage last week with father macaire, in the monastery of verkhotursky, i had a vision." "a vision!" echoed the empress, while her daughter olga and a dozen ladies of the court sat agape and eager. "holy father, tell us of what has been revealed," urged her majesty. "i saw hosts of men entering a great city as conquerors--hordes from the west bringing to us all the benefits and a higher civilisation. i saw his majesty the german emperor advance and grasp the hand of thy imperial husband the tsar, and kiss him fraternally upon both cheeks. and over all was set the halo of god's glory, and russia rejoiced that she had cast off the yoke of her allies." "god be thanked!" gasped the empress hysterically. "then we need no longer fear. truly heaven is good to send thee to us, dear father!" she added, taking his rough hand, with its bulgy knuckles and unclean nails, and kissing it fervently, while all her court echoed the words so constantly used at the gatherings of the cult: "holy father! god be thanked that we are thy chosen sisters." on the following day, however, rasputin having returned to his house in petrograd, a secret meeting was held at the house of a man named roukhloff, situate in the vereiskaya. the meeting was convened by certain of the monk's enemies in order to expose him as an impostor and a charlatan. it must be remembered that none dreamed that the scoundrel was the direct secret agent of the kaiser himself, or that sturmer and protopopoff were anything else than fine sterling russian patriots. all three were urging every one to "get on with the war." and with this in mind it induces one to wonder whether a similar farce is not to-day being played in certain political circles in other countries of the allies! rasputin had many friends, but he had also made many bitter enemies. as an outcome of that secret meeting, the man roukhloff, son of a functionary in the ministry of foreign affairs, defied the authorities and publicly denounced the "saint" as "a dangerous erotic humbug." the effect was electrical. the emperor, with the empress, count fredericks, and madame vyrubova, was in the imperial train, travelling to the crimea. the moment of that hostile attack was well-chosen, and for a time the "saint's" position was a precarious one. but as soon as it became known in petrograd that he had been denounced, his house was crowded by his faithful sister-disciples, who would have no word said against him. he at once announced his intention to return to siberia, and addressing them with his usual mock piety, said: "the people of petrograd have cast out the man sent to them by god. i will return to my monastery at pokrovsky, and pray for their salvation. assuredly god will punish the disbelievers. you, my sisters, keep faith in your belief. if i never return--then pray for me." an hour afterwards the impostor left for the nicolas station, accompanied by a crowd of women-believers of all classes, but instead of travelling to siberia he changed his route at moscow and hurried in the track of their majesties. meanwhile, the ill-living archbishop teofan, who had declared that he "heard in the holy father rasputin the voice of god," and that to hound him from petrograd meant the incurring of the divine displeasure and the downfall of the empire, and bishop hermogene, another of the monk's creations who had also belauded him, now both saw an opportunity of denouncing the monk's duplicity and malpractices, and thereby securing the favour of the people for themselves. this they did, and in consequence a great sensation was caused in society, both in petrograd and in moscow. in the duma, rasputin was openly denounced by m. goutchkoff, a man of large experience and who had worked in the manchuria campaign and done much to assist the grand duke nicholas and general alexeieff in the munition crisis of . he was director of the committee of war industries, and had, introduced into this committee some highly capable labour delegates, who were now no longer blinded by the halo of sanctity which rasputin had assumed for himself. thus a storm suddenly burst over the head of the holy rascal who had practised his abominations under his pseudo-religious cloak, and who was at the same time secretly plotting for the triumph of germany. but so cleverly did he juggle with the future of the russian empire that he went post-haste across europe, down to yalta in the crimea, and on arrival drove through the pine woods to the imperial palace. he arrived there at six o'clock in the morning, after a long and fatiguing journey. but such was his iron nerve and strong constitution that he was as fresh as when he bade farewell to his clinging devotees in petrograd who had so fervently kissed his dirty hands. he had the audacity to go straight to the tsar's dressing-room, and there met his majesty as he was coming from his bath. naturally nicholas ii was surprised, and on inquiring the reason of his unexpected visit, the "saint" exclaimed: "they have driven me, the man of the lord, from petrograd! i go back to siberia to dwell there in peace. but god will now assuredly weak vengeance upon russia, and all that she holds most dear--as well as upon thy son and heir." "but, holy father!" gasped the emperor, "what has happened? tell me." as the tsar sat in his red bath-wrap, the unwashed "saint" made explanation that both the church and the duma had declared him to be an impostor, adding: "i will not trouble myself over those who defame me. they are as dust. god has sent me to russia, and the russians have despised me." "but who are your enemies?" asked his majesty anxiously. that was the question which rasputin intended that the emperor should ask. at once he explained that the archbishop teofan and bishop hermogene had both turned against him, and in consequence the tsar called his servant to bring him a telegraph-form at once. "whither shall i send those persons?" asked his majesty. "nowhere. let them work their evil will against thy empire. god will himself punish them!" replied the fakir and ex-thief who had self-assumed the title of "father." "i shall leave to-night for siberia, and shall not return." "no. forgive them, holy father," urged the emperor apprehensively. "for my sake and for russia's sake forgive them. i will send teofan, your false friend, to the taurida, and hermogene shall retire to the monastery of tobolsk. helidor, too, is no friend of yours. he shall be sent to prison." "thy will shall be done regarding the two first, but spare helidor. he may yet be useful unto thee," was the crafty mujik's reply. "is there any other enemy who should be removed?" inquired the emperor. "tell me, holy father--and i will deal with him if you will still remain with us. if you leave, poor little alexis will die." the mock-saint, sprawling his legs in the emperor's dressing-room, reflected for a few moments. he knew that by his own hand russia was ruled. "yes," he said presently. "god has told me to forgive my enemies. i will do so if thou wilt assist me. too little consideration is given to our friends." "all consideration shall be given them. to whom do you refer?" the monk drew from beneath his, long black habit a scrap of paper already prepared, and consulting, it, said: "i wrote down here yesterday certain appointments which should be given to those who support thee, against thy enemies." it was a list of favours which the rascal had promised to women for their male acquaintances, and from each he would receive a generous _douceur_, according to the means of the person indicated. "you will note ivan scheveleff, of the imperial chancellerie. he has served thee well for the past five years, and should have the title of excellency, and consequent promotion," said the religious rascal. "again, there is sergius timacheff, of the imperial printing works, who should be appointed a privy councillor; and madame grigoiovitch, who is in the peter-and-paul prison, should be released and amends made to her for the false charge upon which she was convicted at the instance of michael alexandrovitch." "i will telegraph orders in each case," was the emperor's reply, as he lit a cigarette prior to his valet entering. "and the salary of the minister protopopoff is far too little. it should be increased by at least one-half. he is thy most devout and devoted friend and servant of russia." "that shall be done," was the monarch's weak reply. little did his majesty dream that protopopoff was one of russians traitors. "brusiloff should be watched, as there is evidence of treachery against him. before the war he was friendly with a man named von weber, an agent of germany. nekrasov, minister of communications, is also a traitor, and should be dismissed," said the monk, thus denouncing two of russia's strongest and most patriotic fighters, who were perfectly innocent. "it shall be done," replied the emperor quietly. "father, i am glad you have, told me." indeed, owing, to the false statements of pro-german police officials, general brusiloff was within an ace of arrest a week later. the minister nekrasov, however, received his dismissal, protopopoff being one of his enemies, and in that manner was the monk playing germany's game. thus the evil power of this arch-scoundrel was paramount. by his influence men were made and broken daily. indeed, to-day dozens of men who because of their suspicion of the saint's "divinity," incurred the blasphemer's displeasure are, languishing in gaol in various remote parts of the empire, while german agents occupied some of the "highest offices in russia," while the head of the church of holy russia had been appointed by the unwashed blackguard himself. as proof of this interview at livadia, the _dossier_ of gregory rasputin, the siberian cagliostro, which is before me, contains the following letter: "rizhsky prospect, . "my dear father,--i have heard that you have left upon a pilgrimage to your own monastery in siberia. may god be with you, and bless you. to-day my title of excellency is officially announced. my bankers have passed to yours the sum of , roubles. there will be a further sum of , roubles passed if you will kindly send me, under cover, those two letters of the countess birileff. i await your reply.--ivan scheveleff." rasputin's mania for filing his correspondence is the basis of our true knowledge of his astounding career and activity, for the next folio in the _dossier_ is a copy of a blackmailing letter he wrote a few weeks after his visit to the crimea, to the man sergius timacheff. it reads as follows: "friend,--it is now many days since his majesty appointed you privy councillor of the empire, but i have received no word from you or from your bank as we arranged. if i receive nothing by next thursday, the facts concerning your son's implication in the platanoff affair (the blowing up of a russian battleship in the baltic by german agents) will be passed on to the admiralty. if double the sum we arranged passes to my bank before the date i have named, i shall remain silent. if not, i shall take immediate action.--g." the "holy" blackmailer was becoming more and more unscrupulous. behind him he had the emperor and empress, soothed to sleep by his marvellous cunning and his mock miracles. incredible as it seems, he was able to evade all the many pitfalls set for him by his enemies, because he swept them all from his path by imperial orders and stood forth alone as the "holy father," sent by providence to create a new and prosperous russia. he had no fear of death. he wore a shirt of mail, and the palace police, the same ever-alert surveillance as that placed upon the person of the tsar himself, kept a watchful eye upon him, though through protopopoff they had orders to relinquish their watchfulness at any moment the "saint" deemed it necessary. he frequently deemed it necessary if he held his conferences with sturmer, protopopoff, anna vyrubova, and the small camarilla of persons who were being so richly rewarded by mysterious incomes from estates they did not possess--or, plainly speaking, by money from berlin. rasputin saw that in order to keep faith with his "sister-disciples" in petrograd, it was necessary for him to journey again to his siberian village. he therefore declared to the emperor that he had much business there, and promised that he would return to peterhof as soon as the imperial family arrived there. when the tsar of all the russias had bent and kissed the monk's filthy hands, and promised that his orders should be despatched at once by telegram to petrograd, the monk sought the empress, told her what had occurred, explaining how his enemies had denounced "the man sent by god." the tsaritza sat appalled. could the russian people have denounced her "holy father"? to her it seemed impossible. she bent before the rascal and wept bitterly. "oh, sister!" he said in his deep voice, "i will retire to pokrovsky until these enemies of russia have been discomfited and defeated. then, verily, i will return to stand beside thee and fight as thy friend, as god has commanded me." then he took his leave and travelled to the so-called "monastery" he had established in his far-off siberian village--the big house in which a dozen of his female devotees were so eagerly awaiting him. chapter six. rasputin's secret instructions from berlin. now that rasputin's amazing career is being here investigated, chapter by chapter, the facts disclosed seem almost incredible, but, of course, such a situation could only have occurred in a country where nearly ninety per cent, of the priest-ridden inhabitants are unable to read or write, and which is in most things a full century behind the times. surely in no other country in all the world to-day could an illiterate, verminous mujik, who had actually been convicted and punished for the crimes of horse-stealing, falsely obtaining money, and assaulting two young girls, be accepted as a divine healer, a "holy" man, and the saviour of russia. here was a man whose whole life had been one of scandalous ill-living, a low drunken libertine of the very worst and most offensive class, actually ruling the empire as secret agent, of the kaiser! by the clever ruse of establishing his cult of "sister-disciples" he had so secured the ears of the weak-kneed emperor and his consort, that whatever views he declared to them they at once became law. so amazingly cunning was he that he realised that the only way in which to retain the hold he had established at court was now and then to absent himself from it, first making certain "prophecies," the fulfilment of which could be effected by his secret friends. as often as he uttered a prophecy and left petrograd upon one of his erotic adventures--to found provincial circles of the cult of believers--so surely would that prophecy come true. he foretold the downfall of one official, the death of another upon a certain date, a further relapse of the tsarevitch, and so on, until their majesties held him in awe as heaven-inspired. in the high court circle of which he was the centre, this "holy father" could do no wrong, while his most disgraceful exploits, scandals unprintable, were merely regarded as mundane pleasures allowable to him as a "saint." no reign since the days of the caesars was more fraught by disgraceful scandals than those last days of the _regime_ of the ill-fated romanoffs. the roman empresses were never traitors as the tsaritza most certainly was. can any one have sympathy with the once-imperial, afterwards exiled to siberia--that same zone of that illimitable tundra to which the tsar of all the russias had exiled so many of his innocent and patriotic subjects, men and women who fought for russia's right to live, to expand, and to prosper? let us remember that in siberia to-day lie the bones of a hundred thousand russian patriots, persecuted under the evil _regimes_ of alexander and of nicholas. in the days of the ex-tsar's father i went to siberia, and i visited the convict prisons there. i saw convicts in the mines chained to wheelbarrows by forged fetters, and i saw those poor tortured wretches who worked in the dreaded quicksilver mines of nertchinsk, their teeth falling out and their scalps bare. of what i myself witnessed, i years ago placed on record in black and white. those reports of mine will be found in the public libraries of great britain. but to-day they do not concern the reader of this book only inasmuch as they furnish proofs, with others, of the oppressive hand of the romanoffs upon the devoted and long-suffering people of holy russia--"holy"--save the mark! the erotic rascal rasputin was in himself a striking example of the men who control the paroslavny church. this mock-pious blackguard, to whose artful cunning and clever cupidity has been due the death of hundreds of thousands of brave russians of all classes in the field, held the fortunes of the great empire within the hollow of his dirty paw. the contents of the big _dossier_ of his private papers disclose this satanic scoundrel's double-dealing, and the true terms in which he stood with the wilhelmstrasse. to me, as i study the documents, it is astounding how accurately the germans had gauged who were their actual friends in russia and who were their enemies. surely their sources of information were more astounding and more complete than even the great stiebur, the king of spydom, had ever imagined. it sterns that while rasputin was living a dissolute life at the "monastery" he had established in his far-off native village of pokrovsky, he received many telegrams from tsarskoe-selo, both from the emperor and empress, urging him to forgive his traducers and to return. to none of these he responded. one day, however, he received a telegraphic message which came over the wires as a government one, marked "on his imperial majesty's service," from madame vyrubova. its copy is here before me, and reads: "return at once to petrograd. a dear friend from afar, awaits you. it is most urgent that you should come back at once. there is much to be done.--anna." such an urgent summons showed him that his presence was required. he knew too well that the "dear friend" was a german agent sent in secret to see him. therefore he bade farewell to his dozen "sister-disciples," the head of whom was the opulent "sister vera," sister of the dissolute bishop teofan whom rasputin himself had created. teofan was a fellow-criminal of his who had been imprisoned for horse-stealing in tobolsk, and now he wore richly embroidered ecclesiastical robes and bent the knee before the altar daily. in consequence of this message from his friend anna, rasputin hastened back to petrograd. now madame vyrubova was rasputin's tool throughout. hers had been a strange history. her past had been shrouded in mystery, yet i here disclose it for the first time. as mademoiselle taneieff, daughter of the director of the private chancellerie of the tsar, she became five years before one of the maids-of-honour of the empress. a pretty, high-spirited girl, she at first amused and afterwards attracted the neurotic spouse of the stolid, weak-minded autocrat. in due course she married a rather obscure but good-looking naval officer named vyrubova-- a lieutenant on board the cruiser _kazan_. the husband, after a year at sea, learned certain scandals, and therefore he went one night boldly to the emperor--who happened to be at peterhof--and asked that he might divorce his wife. his majesty was both surprised and angry. he made inquiry, and discovered a very curious state of affairs--a scandal that had been hushed up and is now revealed by the new light shining upon russian court life and the internal scandals of the empire. briefly put. his majesty found that his wife the empress had fallen in love with a certain general o--. the dark-haired madam vyrubova had acted as go-between for the couple--a fact which her husband knew, and threatened to expose as a vulgar scandal if the emperor did not allow his divorce! it seemed that general o--had rather slighted the empress, and had taken up with a certain princess b--, who had been on the stage, and who was declared to be one of the prettiest women in all russia. the general had followed the beautiful princess to cairo. a week later at assouan, in upper egypt, he had been seized by a mysterious illness and died. the explanation given to the emperor by the husband vyrubova was that the general had fallen a victim to the jealousy of his wife the empress. the tsar made secret inquiry, and to his surprise found that all the officer had asserted had been correct. madame vyrubova had at the empress's orders followed the general and arranged his death. therefore his majesty could do nothing else than allow the officer to divorce his wife, who, truth to tell, was the catspaw of the poisoner rasputin, who held her in his grip. these widespread ramifications of the mock-monk's influence and his power created by the judicious expenditure of german palm-oil are utterly astounding. the more deeply one delves into this voluminous _dossier_, the more amazing does it become, until the enemy's wicked attempts to undermine russia, our ally, almost stagger belief. when rasputin at last returned to petrograd, in response to the orders of the handsome anna, he was handed a secret communication from germany. this confidential despatch, as it lies here before me, speaks for itself. it is in a german letter-cipher, different from all the others, and for a considerable time it defied all efforts, to decipher it. at last it was accomplished by the russian secret police, and it certainly reveals a most dastardly series of amazingly cunning plots. here it is: "memorandum . . "`number ' is sending to you sister molfetta, of the italian red cross, whose number is . she will leave berlin on the rd prox, and travel by way of gothenburg. please inform p. (protopopoff) and request him to give her his protection and prepare her dear passport. she will stay at the house of b. (bukoff, a furrier in the vereiskaya, who was a german agent and assistant to rasputin); you will call upon her there. "the object of her mission is to cultivate friendly relations with the barrister alexander kerensky, who, though at present obscure, will, it is here believed, shortly make his influence felt very strongly against us. the woman has orders to compromise him, and afterwards create a public scandal in order to discredit him in the eyes of the public. "further, we seriously view the strength of kerensky and the influence he may exert in the prosecution of the war, therefore we leave it to your personal discretion whether or not he should be removed. number possesses the means, and will act upon your orders. "_secret instructions_.--you are to inform his majesty in confidence that m.i. tereshchenko (now minister for foreign affairs) is dangerous, and should be arrested. if his house in kiev is searched, compromising papers which have been placed there by s. (a german agent named schumacher) will be discovered. tereshchenko is threatening to expose your friend s. (sturmer, prime minister), and should it once be suppressed by imprisonment. "the letter herewith enclosed please give into the hands of her majesty the empress in secret. also inform her that the wishes she has expressed in her last letter to his majesty shall be carried out. "you are to inform s. and p. (sturmer and protopopoff) that the shortage of food in russia is, owing to birileff's indecisive policy, not sufficiently marked. he must be dismissed upon grounds of incompetence, and they must appoint a new food controller who will, connive, by holding up supplies, to create a famine. an epidemic, if spread in moscow, kazan, kharkow, odessa, and other cities at the same time as the famine, would greatly contribute towards germany's success. the matter has already been discussed, and an outbreak of cholera suggested. you should consider the suggestion at your end, and if you decide upon it, the necessary steps can easily be taken, though we consider nothing should be done in petrograd, because of yourselves and the imperial family. "the bearer of this will remain in petrograd four days, and then bring back any news you can send regarding the future situation. matters are now becoming desperate with us. hindenburg has decided that at all hazards we must withdraw troops from your frontier, and send them to the west. we rely upon you and your friends to create a famine, for which you will receive increased gratuities, as in the case of the retreat from warsaw." thus will it be seen that the "holy" blackguard, the right-hand and adviser of the emperor nicholas, was posing as the saviour of the great russian empire, whom great britain was supplying with munitions of war, and while he was everywhere declaring that brusiloff's strategy would wreck the german offensive, yet at the same time he was plotting famine and pestilence in the very heart of the empire! none knew this secret--except the german-born tsaritza. from her, rasputin held back nothing. in secret he showed her all the despatches he received from the koniggratzer-strasse. his influence upon her majesty at this stage is made vividly apparent by significant remarks which he made to sturmer on the night after his return to petrograd, and the delivery into his hands of that cipher despatch from berlin as revealed above. "my dear excellency!" he said, tossing off a glass of vodka and eating some caviare at the great carved sideboard in his own room before sitting down to dinner, "you have been speaking of the tsar and the tsaritza. to the tsar i am christ, the saviour of russia and the world! their majesties salute me; they bow to me and they kiss my hand. what higher sphere can i achieve? the imperial children prostrate before me; they kiss my hands. ah! my dear excellency, i could disclose to you things which--well, which i could not relate without blushing!" it was at this period, when a friend of the "holy" peasant, striaptcheff, a fellow-thief of pokrovsky and a man convicted of burglary, pressed his attentions upon the "holy father" and demanded an appointment. incredible as it may appear, yet the criminal in question was six days later appointed as a bishop of the russian church, with the usual fat emoluments, and he could scarcely read or write. truly holy russia was progressing beneath the rasputin _regime_. she had a burglar as bishop. meanwhile, the monk proceeded at once to carry out his secret orders from berlin. we know that the camarilla held council a week later, and that sturmer, protopopoff, striaptcheff--who had now become inseparable from rasputin--as well as manuiloff, an ex-journalist who conducted the secret police under sturmer, were present at the monk's house. at the meeting the false red cross sister from berlin was also present. it was agreed that it would be best to remove kerensky, who, though a headlong enthusiast, would be a very difficult man for a woman to compromise. it was known that he possessed secret sources of knowledge regarding the intention of the camarilla to betray russia into germany's hands, therefore the woman molfetta was given orders to carry out her plot, to secure his assassination at the hands of a renegade jew of warsaw named levinski, who was ready to commit any crime if paid for it. the attempt was made three weeks later. while kerensky, who lived to become afterwards prime minister of the new government, was turning the corner by the alexandra hospital to cross the fontanka to the sadovaya, late one night, on his way home to the offitzerskaya, he was shot at three times by the fellow levinski. each shot happily went wide, and as a result alexander kerensky still lives to pilot russia to her freedom. the manner in which the traitorous camarilla brought about a famine in the capital, and in certain districts in the empire, until the people of petrograd paraded the city crying "give us bread, or end the war!" is well known to all. but how they attempted to carry out the dastardly orders of berlin to create an epidemic of cholera at the same time, i will reveal with quotations from official documents in the next chapter. chapter seven. the plot to spread epidemics in russia. in my work of unmasking rasputin i find that constant secret communications were at that time passing between the "holy" scoundrel and his infamous paymasters in the koniggratzer-strasse, while messages were continually being exchanged in strictest confidence between the kaiser and the german-born tsaritza, who lived beneath the thraldom of this common horse-stealer. berlin, with all its devilish inventions for unfair warfare prohibited by the hague convention, had not overlooked the fact that owing to the primitive sanitation of russia, epidemics had very often been widespread and most difficult to stamp out; therefore the suggestion to artificially produce outbreaks of bubonic plague and asiatic cholera in the heart of the empire had been suggested to that traitor, the prime minister boris sturmer, and his fellow-conspirators of the "camarilla," of whom the siberian charlatan known as "holy father" was the head. while the imperial court bowed its knees to the erotic rascal, yet strangely enough the people doubted him, and in secret jeered at him. the satanic suggestion from berlin, however, appealed to the camarilla of pro-german plotters. the russian army was gallantly holding out, even though many traitors held highest commands. the germans had reached the height of their offensive power on that front, and a separate peace with russia was in berlin admitted to be, highly necessary, if the ultimate success of their arms was to be achieved. therefore, if a devastating epidemic broke out, then sturmer would have excuse to go to the tsar and strongly urge the necessity for peace as the only salvation of the empire. hence the necessary steps were at once taken by the conspirators who were in the habit of meeting almost daily in the gorokhovaya. proof of what was on foot is disclosed by the following secret despatch from berlin, which is included in rasputin's private papers, which so fortunately fell into the hands of the patriotic party of russia. i here reproduce it: "memorandum . . "`number ' has placed your communication and suggestions before a high quarter, and they are all approved. he is sending you, by way of malmo, karl johnke, whose number is , a bacteriologist of the frankfort institute, who will arrive in petrograd on the th, and seek you. by the same ship will arrive, consigned to our friends the firm of yakowleff and company, wholesale fruiterers, of the nikolskaya, in moscow, one hundred and twenty-six barrels of canadian apples, with ninety cases of canary bananas. these will be distributed in the ordinary course of trade to kazan, kharkow, odessa, and other centres. see that p. (protopopoff) grants easy facilities for rapid transport to the consignees in moscow, as they are perishable. "`number ' has full instructions to deal with ivan yakowleff, who is our `fixed post' in moscow, and who is receiving his instructions in secret by the messenger who brings you this. the fruit must not be handled or eaten, as it has been treated and is highly dangerous. "cholera should occur within three weeks of the arrival of the fruit. we rely upon p. taking steps to facilitate its rapid delivery. some of it should be presented to charitable institutes for distribution among the poor. "inform a. (anna vyrubova) that korniloff (general korniloff, whom all know to be one of the most successful of russian generals) suspects her concerning the zarudni affair and has at his house some correspondence which is incriminating. it is in a cupboard in his bedroom and should be secured at once. (g. zarudni was active in political law cases before the revolution, and has since been appointed minister of justice in the kerensky cabinet.) zarudni is working against both s. (sturmer) and yourself. if an accident happened to him it would render the atmosphere more clear. the same applies to his friend n.v. nekrasov, who is on the duma budget committee and on the railway committee. both may upset our plans. "against general ostrogradski, inspector-general of cavalry, a charge of treason should be made. the bearer brings documents in order to arouse suspicion that he has sold military secrets to austria. these can be produced at his trial. his continued activity against us, and his hatred of yourself are both dangerous. "`number ' will make personal reports to you concerning the negotiations with roumania and also regarding the efforts we are making to prevent war material from england reaching russia. "`number ' notes with gratification that the explosion at the nitro-glycerine works at viborg has been effected, and that the factory was totally destroyed and most of the workmen killed. please pay e. (an analytical chemist named paul eck, who was a friend of rasputin's) the sum promised. "it would be best if their majesties removed to tsarskoe-selo. anna vyrubova should cultivate boris savenkov, commissioner to the seventh army. (this suggestion shows the remarkable foresight of berlin, for to-day boris savenkov is acting minister of war.) you yourself should lose no time in becoming acquainted with countess vera kokoskin, who lives at potemkinskaya, . she is eager to meet you. admit her as a disciple, for being an attractive and ambitious woman, she has considerable knowledge of what is in progress in certain quarters in the duma. being in want of money, and being blackmailed by a penniless lover named sievers, she would probably be ready to become our friend. `number ' therefore throws out this suggestion, yet at the same time impresses upon you and your friends the necessity of the creation of the epidemic and the bringing in of roumania on the side of the allies." those final words of that cipher despatch disclose a cunning that was indeed unequalled. i know full well that readers may be inclined to pause and to doubt that such dastardly methods could actually be pursued against civilisation. to such i can only point out that boxes of the same microbes were found in the german legation in bucharest, and were officially reported by the united states legation in that city. the fierce german octopus--so carefully fostered and so well prepared-- had alas! stretched its thousand searching tentacles upon the patriotic russian people who were ruled by their weak and careless emperor, while the pro-german empress listened to every rumour, and in her heart hoped for a separate peace with germany as the only salvation of her land. truly the romanoffs have proved themselves a weak-kneed and irresponsible dynasty. alexander, however, was never weak. in the long-ago days when i had audience with his late majesty one morning in his small reception-room in the winter palace, he wore a rough drab shooting suit; bluff and full-bearded as any of his ministers, he talked to me fully of his regret that the nihilists should be ever plotting to kill him, and assured me of his own personal efforts to free his people from a corrupt church and an iron bureaucracy. "please tell your british people that as tsar i am doing the utmost in my power to improve and civilise my dear russian people, to whom i am devoted, and to whom i will if necessary give my life." those words of the father of the tsar nicholas will be found reproduced in the columns of _the times_ after my joining as "russian correspondent." but let us examine the result of the secret order to rasputin from berlin which i have reproduced above. in the first place i find among the papers, a letter dated from the potemkinskaya, , as follows: "holy father,--i thank you for your introduction yesterday to her majesty the empress, and to the grand duchess olga. truly we are all your kindred spirits and disciples, who know at last the joys and pleasures of the life which almighty god has given unto us. anna was most charming, and i saw his majesty as arranged. at your suggestion i mentioned the gospodin sievers, and the emperor has promised to appoint him vice-governor of omsk. all thanks to you, dear holy father. i shall be at our reunion at your house to-morrow, and my daughter nada, who is in search of the truth, will accompany me. till then, i kiss your dear hand.--vera kokoskin." this letter speaks for itself. another document is a letter to rasputin dated from the hotel metropole, moscow, and is in plain language as follows: "the consignment of fruit from your generous donors has duly reached the maison yakowleff and is being distributed in various charitable quarters and is much appreciated in these days when prices are so high. some of it has been sent to the director of the borgoroditsky convent at kazan, and also some to the society of st george at kiev. please inform and thank the donors.--karl johnke." eagerly the camarilla awaited the result of their dastardly handiwork. the allotted three weeks passed, but no epidemic was reported. evidently the monk wrote to the german bacteriologist, who was posing as a dane, for the latter wrote from the hotel continental at kiev: "the fruit, owing to delays in transit, was not in a condition for human consumption. this is extremely regrettable after all the trouble of our kind donors." therefore, while certain isolated cases of cholera were reported from several cities--as the sanitary records prove--russia had had indeed a providential escape from a terrible epidemic, the infected fruit being distributed over a wide area by charitable organisations quite unsuspicious of its source. failure to produce the desired result induced rasputin and his paymasters in berlin to adopt yet another method of forcing russia into a separate peace. brusiloff had recommenced his gallant offensive, and the situation was being viewed with increased apprehension by the german general staff. roumania was still undecided whether or not to throw in her cause with that of the allies. the great plot to destroy roumania is again revealed by documentary evidence contained among rasputin's papers, and also in the despatches received in bucharest--where, of course, the clever intrigue was never suspected. a message in cipher received by rasputin, on august th, the day of general letchitzki's great triumph, reveals a truly machiavellian plan. it reads thus: "memorandum . . "matters in the dobroudja are approaching a serious crisis. urge s. (boris sturmer, the prime minister) to suggest at once to the emperor, while at the same time you make a similar suggestion to her majesty, that roumania must be forced to take up arms against us. she must not be allowed to remain neutral any longer. s. must send a despatch to bucharest so worded that it is our ultimatum. if she does not join the allies immediately she must fight against russia." accordingly, three days later, after the holy father and his unholy fellow-conspirator had had audiences at tsarskoe-selo, sturmer sent an urgent despatch to the roumanian government demanding that it should join the allies, without further delay. at bucharest no plot was suspected, and indeed on the face of things, it seemed no unusual request. even people in great britain were daily asking each other "when will roumania come in it?" the reason she had not joined was because she was not yet prepared. germany knew that and with rasputin's aid had laid a plot to invade her. she was, while still unready, forced into the war by sturmer. nineteen days after the despatch of that cipher message from berlin she formally declared hostilities against austria-hungary. berlin was delighted, and the sinister "dark force" of russia rubbed his dirty hands with delight. the plot he saw must succeed. truly it was a vile and devilish one, which not even the shrewdest diplomat suspected, namely, to deliver roumania and her resources of grain and oil to the enemy. as an outcome of the conspiracy the russo-roumanian army, owing to treachery in the latter, at once retreated under pressure from mackensen's forces, and very quickly, almost before the allies were aware of it, roumania and the constanza railway were in the enemy's hands. disaster, engineered by the camarilla, followed disaster after that "now or never" ultimatum of sturmer's. the promises made to the brave roumanians were broken one after the other. why? because with rasputin, protopopoff and certain generals suborned by the mock-monk, the prime minister's intention was to use the great retreat and the rapid absorption of roumania as a means to force the tsar and his empire into a separate peace. indeed, rasputin--in attendance daily at tsarskoe-selo--by declaring to the empress and his sister-disciples at court that he had been accorded a vision of the tsar and kaiser fraternising, and interpreting this as a divine direction that peace should at once be made with germany, had very nearly induced his majesty to sign a declaration of peace, when one man in the empire discovered the dastardly manoeuvre, the deputy gospodin miliukoff, whose actions i will describe in a further chapter. chapter eight. the mock-monk unmasked. documentary evidence contained in the papers which the monk so carefully preserved shows conclusively that he paid a secret visit to berlin in the first week of october, . while the brave russian army were fighting valiantly, ever and anon being betrayed by their leaders, treachery of the worst and vilest sort was afoot in the highest quarters. that german potentate, the duke of mecklenburg-strelitz, who occupied an important position in the entourage of the tsar, was acting as counsellor to the tsaritza, and at the same time, aided actively by the woman vyrubova, was working to delude the emperor and defeat his gallant armies. at russian field headquarters the tsar was cheered everywhere, and his officers were enthusiastic. it was known that the german offensive had spent itself, and it was believed by those who were being bamboozled that, when all was ready, russia would press on to her well-deserved victory. but the day of russia's great offensive never arrived. great britain and france were supplying her with guns and munitions conveyed up to alexandrovsk with much difficulty, and the allies were daily hoping that the "russian steam-roller" would once again start upon its westward course. london, paris and rome were in ignorance of the amazing plot of the pro-german traitors. meanwhile the mock-monk, in the garb of a dutch pastor, had arrived in berlin to make arrangements with the enemy for russia's final conquest. by the scoundrel's fatal weakness for preserving letters addressed to him, in the hope that when he fell out of favour at court he might use them for blackmailing purposes--for after all this "holy" man had started life as a common thief--we have again evidence of his treachery in the following letter dated from tsarskoe-selo, october th, the day following the allied landing in athens. addressed to rasputin, it is in german, in the fine handwriting of the tsaritza, and reads as follows: "holy father,--at last we have welcome news of you! this morning your messenger reached us bringing me a letter, and one for anna. what you tell us is indeed good news. we are glad that you have seen william (the emperor), and that he has been so gracious to you. your news regarding the forthcoming offensive against the british is most encouraging. the british are germany's real enemies. tell his majesty that all goes well, and that sturmer quite agrees that we must have a separate peace and is taking every step towards that end. "nikki is still at the front encouraging the troops. how foolish, and yet we have all to show a bold front. the news of the landing at athens has disconcerted us, though it has caused great joy in petrograd. inquire if nothing can be done further in an attempt to spread disease in the more populous regions. this would kill enthusiasm for the war and force peace quickly. "dmitri (the grand duke dmitri pavlovitch, who was rasputin's fiercest enemy) has been sent by nikki to samara. it would be a relief to us all if he never returned. he with nicholas (the grand duke nicholas michailovitch) are plotting to defeat us. but germany shall win. it shall be as you, my dear father, saw in your vision. "pray for us, o father. give us your benediction, for while you are absent we are all dull and lonely. tell william to send you back quickly and safely to us. give my best greetings to the brave hindenburg. it is horrid to be compelled to sustain an anti-german attitude when one knows that our fatherland is unconquerable, even though the russian flag be bathed in blood. "inform the general staff that the secret agent erbach-furstenau, who fell into general neudorff's hands last month has at my instigation been acquitted by the court-martial and will very shortly escape back to germany. i have personally arranged that the papers seized upon him shall be destroyed. "charges are being levelled against general sukhomlinoff. he has been betrayed by a man named kartzoff. in order to suppress the latter's further activity, he has been arrested for treason at my instigation and sent without trial to an unknown destination. so we have one enemy the less. it is reported that manasevitch-manuiloff (private secretary to prime minister sturmer) has been arrested for attempting to blackmail his chief. but i will see that nikki stops the trial. "my dear boy alexis is improving. anna is with him constantly. he sends his greetings and asks for your prayers. i kiss your holy hand. your sister alec." russia was still being betrayed by the empress, who had fallen so entirely beneath the occult influences of the rascal who, in turn, had become the catspaw of the kaiser. the charges against general sukhomlinoff, ex-minister of war, mentioned by the tsaritza, had apparently alarmed her. and well they might. an official in the ministry named kartzoff had betrayed his chief, whereupon colonel tugen baranovsky, late chief of the mobilisation department of the russian general staff, had made depositions to the effect that the mobilisation plans drafted by the general were full of errors, while rifles, machine-guns, and field and heavy guns were all lacking. depositions had been made by general petrovsky, late chief of the fortifications department, to the effect that the general had only twice visited the artillery administration during the whole time he held his portfolio as minister, while a third official, colonel batvinkine, one of the heads of the artillery administration, had asserted that general sukhomlinoff had insisted upon important contracts for machine-guns being given to the rickerts factory at a cost of two thousand roubles each while the toula factory could turn out excellent machine-guns at nine hundred roubles. such were a few of the charges against the ex-minister, a bosom friend of rasputin and of sturmer, and these were being whispered abroad everywhere, even though by the influence of the tsaritza the principal witness against the general had been sent to "an unknown destination!" written on the same day and conveyed secretly to the monk in berlin-- evidently by the same messenger who carried the tsaritza's letter to her "holy father"--was one from the conspirator protopopoff. it is on the private note-paper of the minister of the interior and discloses truly an amazing state of affairs, as follows: "brother gregory,--i send you this hastily and with some apprehension. both nicholas and dmitri (the grand dukes), are actively at work against us! beware! they know far too much, hence it behoves us to be most discreet. i was at tsarskoe-selo yesterday and discussed it with f. (count fredericks, minister of the imperial court). there is a secret movement to upset our plans, but i have ordered the secret police to spare no pains to present full and adequate reports to me, and rely on me to take drastic steps. "an hour ago it came to my knowledge that an individual named wilhelm gebhardt, living at hildegard-strasse, wilmersdorf, berlin, has knowledge that you are in the german capital and is probably watching your movements to report to our enemies here. give news of this to our friend `number ' and urge that he shall be immediately arrested as a spy of russia. if he is executed his mouth would be closed, for he is dangerous. the man with whom he is in association in petrograd, a person named tchartovyski, member of the duma, i have ordered to be arrested and charged with communicating with persons in germany. "s. (sturmer) is eager for news regarding the proposed german offensive against the british in flanders, and the exact position regarding the `u' boat campaign. inform the chancellor that news we received from washington to-day shows that president wilson is determined, and warn him that j. and g., whom he will know by initials as german agents in the united states, have been discovered, and may be arrested. he may perhaps communicate with them by wireless, and they may escape while there is still time. "further, inform the chancellor that our efforts to make more marked the shortage of food have been negatived by the action of nicholas and dmitri, for we fear to go further lest the truth be disclosed. their activity cannot be ignored. "urge that the distribution of fruit to charitable institutions be repeated. "the charges against sukhomlinoff are extremely grave, and may have serious consequences. i am, however, taking steps to ascertain the intentions and to arrest those who are in association. "her majesty is eager and nervous regarding you. write and assure her that all is well with your dear self. as the saviour of russia from the wiles of the allies, the russian people ought to regard you as great as the great peter himself. "a tall, thin individual named emil dollen will probably call upon you at your hotel. if so, receive him. he may convey a message from me sent by wireless to riga and re-transmitted. "present my humble compliments to his majesty the emperor. would that i were with you at glorious potsdam. these russians of ours are arrant fools, or we should have been hand-in-glove with berlin against the effete nations who are our allies. i salute you and await your return.--your brother, d.a. protopopoff." this autograph letter is from the man who was russian minister of the interior--the man in whom every true-born son of russia believed so implicitly that he went to his death fiercely and gallantly for his emperor! surely that position had no parallel in history. imperial germany with her long-prepared plans had seized the russian bear by the throat, and was throttling it, just as she has attempted to grapple with the british lion. if the ever-spreading tentacles of the kaiser's propaganda bureau and his unscrupulous and well-financed spy-service were so successful in russia, which before the war was half-germanised by the tsaritza, the villain rasputin and their traitor ministers, then one is permitted to wonder to what depths the koniggratzer-strasse, with the kaiser at its head, have descended in order to try and create famine and revolution in the british isles, wherein dwell "the worst enemies of germany." the documentary evidence extant shows that the unkempt "prophet," whose peasant hands were kissed by the empress of russia, and before whom bowed the greatest ladies of the imperial court, lived during the greater part of october, , in that small hotel, the westfalischer-hof, in the neusladische-strasse, on the north of the linden. he called himself pastor van meeuwen, and his companion was his trusty manservant, a cosmopolitan fellow, who afterwards disclosed much that i have here been able to reveal to british readers. that he had frequent audiences of the emperor william and received his personal instructions is apparent from the copies of telegrams which the revolutions eventually unearthed from the archives of the ministry of telegraphs. one message by wireless, despatched from a russian warship in the baltic to the admiralty station at reval, coded in the same cipher as that used by rasputin and his german confederates, the key of which was found in the safe in the gorokhovaya, is as follows: "to his excellency the minister protopopoff.--all goes well. i had an audience at the neues palais to-day of three hours' duration. inform charles michael (the duke charles michael of mecklenburg-strelitz, who was the german adviser of the tsaritza, and naturalised as a russian subject in july, ) that the emperor william sends his best greetings and acknowledgments of his despatch of the rd inst. it has been found necessary to recall the troops who have been held ready at hamburg and bremen for the invasion of britain. the general staff have, after due consideration, decided that an invasion might meet with disaster, hence they are turning their attention to submarine and aerial attacks upon britain in order to crush her. i have learnt from a conversation with the kaiser that london is to be destroyed by a succession of fleets of super-aeroplanes launching newly-devised explosive and poison-gas bombs of a terribly destructive character. "urge s. (sturmer) to disclaim at once all knowledge of the rickert contracts. the payments are completely concealed. i have no fear of sukhomlinoff's betrayal. he is discredited and will not be believed: yet it would be best if the emperor ordered the trial to be cancelled.-- the tsar did so, but the general was tried after his deposition. "to yourself and our dear empress greetings. i pray for you all, and send you my benedictions.--your brother, gregory efimovitch." that the rascal hurried back to petrograd is apparent by a letter dated a week later from madame kokoskin, the latest of his sister-disciples, who wrote from the potemkinskaya , petrograd, saying: "holy father,--i have just heard with joy from dear anna that you have returned to-night. may god grant you the fruits of your pilgrimage. (to his sister-disciples he had pretended to make a pilgrimage to the monastery of verkhotursky, where in secret most disgraceful orgies often took place.) my daughter nada will be with me at our reunion at anna's to-morrow at six.--vera." rasputin seems to have arrived in petrograd the bearer of certain verbal messages from the kaiser to the tsaritza, for he went at once to tsarskoe-selo and there remained all next day. that the empress had now grown very frightened regarding the attitude of the grand dukes nicholas and dmitri, the latter a young and energetic figure in russian politics, is proved by an attempt which, a few days later, she made to conciliate them both. but they discarded her advances, for, having already learnt much regarding the "holy father," they were actively preparing to bring about the prosecution of general sukhomlinoff, well knowing that its disclosures must wreck the _regime_ of the hated mock-monk and shake the house of romanoff to its foundations. hence it was that, two days later, the patriotic informer ivan kartzoff, the unfortunate official who had been sent by the tsaritza's influence to "an unknown destination," was found shot dead in a wood near kislovodsk, a small town in the north caucasus, while two of the other witnesses were arrested at protopopoff's orders upon false charges of treachery, incriminating papers--which had been placed among their effects by _agents provocateurs_--being produced as evidence against them. thus the most strenuous efforts were being made by the camarilla to prevent the bursting of that storm-cloud which grew darker over them with every day that passed. the monk was, however, fully alive to the danger of exposure, and he therefore resolved to play yet another bold clever card in the desperate game of the betrayal of the russian nation. chapter nine. documentary evidence of treachery. germany never plays straight, even with those who accept her gold to play the dangerous game of traitor. the few who know the ramifications of the underground politics of europe are well aware of this fact. this was brought home to rasputin, when immediately after his return to petrograd from his secret visit to the kaiser in the guise of a pious dutch pastor, the german press became guilty of a grave indiscretion. naturally the monk waxed furious. the _kolnische zeitung_, in its unwonted enthusiasm, wrote: "we germans need have no fear. sturmer may be relied upon not to place any obstacles in the way of russia's desire for peace with germany." while the _reichspost_ said: "we may rest assured that sturmer will be independent in his relations with downing street." and yet sturmer was at this moment crying, "no separate peace!" and had sent constant despatches to downing street assuring us of his intention to prosecute the war to the finish. by this he misled the allies, who naturally regarded the assertion of the german newspapers as mere frothy enthusiasm. but those indiscreet german assurances were instantly seized upon by that small and fearless band of russian patriots who--headed by the grand dukes nicholas and dmitri--had united to expose and destroy the disgraceful camarilla whose object it was to wreck the empire, and hand it mangled and defenceless to be torn by the eagle of germany. at the instigation of the peasant-charlatan and thief whose hand the empress kissed, calling him her holy father, sturmer--also paid lavishly by germany--was following a clever policy of isolation, and had raised a lofty barrier between the government and the elected representatives of the people. after ten months of office this _debauchee_ and traitor had only appeared in the duma on one occasion, and then he made a speech so puerile that he was greeted with ironical laughter. with the very refinement of cunning which betrayed the criminal mind, he, at rasputin's suggestion, crowded the work of legislation into the parliamentary recesses, and passed bills by virtue of article of the fundamental laws, which allowed the government to legislate when the duma was not in session. till then all had gone smoothly for berlin. but there opened a new chapter of the history of the downfall of the great romanoffs. early in november, , a number of very serious and secret conferences of the camarilla took place at rasputin's house. both sturmer and protopopoff were now viewing the situation with the gravest anxiety, for the empire was being swiftly aroused to a sense of its insecurity. there were sinister whispers on all hands of traitors, and of a disinclination on the part of the capitalists and government to win the war. the empress had been guilty of a serious indiscretion, for she had mentioned to a young officer at court the dastardly attempt of german agents to produce an epidemic of cholera by distribution of infected fruit to charitable institutions. that officer's name was tsourikoff. the hand of rasputin was heavy and swift. four days after the fact became known he died suddenly in his rooms in the moskovskaya quarter in petrograd. he had been to the bouffes in the fontanka, where he had met a dark-eyed siren with whom he had afterwards had supper at that well-known establishment, pivato's, in the morskaya. the lady could not be traced after his death. truly the hand of the illiterate monk was ruling russia with his pretence of working miracles, and with that mock-religious jargon in which he addressed his noble-born sister-disciple. he held secret death within his fingers, to be dealt to any who might upset his plans, or those of the empress. that the latter actually did, in an excess of her enthusiasm for the success of her native germany, betray the plans of rasputin and his paymasters to the young officer tsourikoff, is proved by a telegram which she addressed to the monk from the imperial train at sinelnikovo, on the way to livadia. this sardonic message still remains upon the records of the department of posts and telegraphs, and reads: "the accident to captain tsourikoff is to be deplored. please place a wreath upon the grave on my behalf. pray for us.--alec." in the last days of october, , the diabolical conspiracy entered upon a new and even more desperate stage, for very slowly the astounding truth was leaking out to the long-suffering russian people. the grand duke nicholas had been joined by the grand duke serge, formerly inspector-general of artillery, general vernandea, ex-assistant minister of war, and m. mimascheff, who all three had been actively investigating the alleged treachery of general sukhomlinoff. they had publicly made further statements most damning to the general. his late colleague vernandea had alleged that the minister of war had paid no heed to the equipment of the army, had given no contracts except to those factories who gave him bribes, and that after days of war the russian army were without shells. the grand duke serge had told a secret meeting in petrograd that general sukhomlinoff had suppressed the personal reports addressed to the tsar by all the heads of the ministry of war and had actually prevented new guns being ordered from the schneider works, while the ex-minister of commerce declared that the minister of war had never once requested him to organise manufacturers and owners of works for national defence. on hearing from rasputin that these allegations were being made, the empress at once, at the monk's instigation, telegraphed in cipher to the tsar, who was at the front: "suppress at once, i beg of you in the interest of us all, the base charges now being made against sukhomlinoff. boris threatens to resign if they continue. if you do not act immediately the situation will become a very ugly one." in reply the emperor sent a message to his wife at livadia next day, in which he said: "i have taken the necessary steps that the allegations shall not be repeated." they were, however, repeated in court at the trial of the ex-minister at petrograd on august , . meanwhile rasputin, sturmer, and protopopoff, a truly diabolical trio, proceeded to put into force a new and ingenious plan to create further unrest and by that means dishearten the people. the empress returned to tsarskoe-selo, where the charlatan immediately saw her and obtained her full approval to his suggestion. the plan was to disseminate the wildest rumours, in order to incite disorder among the proletariat. in that highly-charged atmosphere created by the growing food crisis--which sturmer and protopopoff had so cleverly brought about at germany's instigation--it was easy to throw a spark among the inflammable popular masses, exasperated and disorganised by the deplorable state of affairs. in consequence, a veritable whirlwind of false rumour was released in the hope that a movement would be started which would shatter, weaken for long, or stifle all manifestations of patriotism, and cause the country to sue for a separate peace. rasputin himself was responsible for putting this new plan into execution. rumours arose with a startling rapidity. it was said in petrograd that all moscow was involved in a rising; the wires were cut, the moscow police were on strike, and that the troops had refused to fire on the crowd. simultaneously, similar rumours were circulated in moscow concerning a sanguinary riot in petrograd; while at kharkoff it was believed that moscow was in revolution, and at moscow it was declared that there was a revolution at kharkoff. these rumours, which all emanated from the malignant brain of the "saint," were of course false, but colour was given to them by the dastardly outrages committed by two german secret agents, lachkarioff and filimonoff (who were subsequently allowed to escape to sweden), who blew up two great mills outside moscow, and also blew up the blast furnaces at the obukhov steel factory, causing great loss of life; while at the same time, a desperate attempt was made also by other german agents to destroy the great powder factory opposite schusselburg, which, before the war, had been owned by germans. the unrest thus created by rasputin quickly assumed alarming proportions, and the camarilla was secretly satisfied. the prime minister, sturmer, in order to mislead the public further, made a speech deploring the fact that anybody credited such unfounded reports; but he did not do so before the labour group of the central war industrial committee had issued a declaration to the working classes warning them to remain patient and prosecute the war with vigour. how amazingly clever was this traitorous camarilla, seeking to hurl russia to her destruction, is shown by a significant fact. on the very day of the issue of that labour declaration general brusiloff, interviewed at the russian headquarters of the south-west front by mr stanley washburn, said: "the war is won to-day, though it is merely speculation to estimate how much longer will be required before the enemy are convinced that the cause, for the sake of which they drenched europe with blood, is irretrievably lost. personally, never since the beginning have i believed that the enemy had a chance of winning." meanwhile the emperor was still absent at the front, and rasputin, in addition to directing the affairs of the empire through the empress, whom he visited daily at the palace, was holding constant reunions of his sister-disciples, whereat he pretended to see visions, while he was also blackmailing all and sundry, as his voluminous correspondence with some of his "sisters" plainly shows. two letters from the grand duchess olga, daughter of the tsar, dated october th and november st, are indeed plain evidence that the monk was forming a fresh "circle" of his female neophytes, consisting wholly of young girls of noble families. suddenly, like a bombshell, there dropped upon the tsaritza and the camarilla the startling news, that miliukoff, who had now at his back the grand dukes nicholas, serge and dmitri, intended to publicly expose the empress's pet "saint." from tsarskoe-selo she wrote to him on november th, apparently in great haste, for it is a pencilled note: "holy father,--anna has just told me of miliukoff's intention in the duma. the emperor must further adjourn its re-assembling (which had been prohibited from meeting since july). i have telegraphed to him urging him to do this. if not, noyo's suggestion to pay the agents j. or b. ten thousand roubles to remove him. i would willingly pay a hundred thousand roubles to close his mouth for ever. this must be done. suggest it to p. (protopopoff). surely the same means could be used as with tsourikoff, and the end be quite natural and peaceful! you could supply the means as before. but i urge on you not to delay a moment. all depends upon miliukoff's removal. if he reveals to the duma what he knows, then everything must be lost. i kiss your dear hands. with olga i ask your blessing.--your dutiful daughter, a." it seems incredible in this twentieth century that an empress should have been so completely beneath the thraldom of an erotic criminal lunatic. but the evidence is there in black and white. two previous attempts upon the life of professor miliukoff had happily failed, but the tenor of that letter illustrates the tsaritza's increasing fears lest the real traitor should be unmasked. a cipher telegram from the emperor, who was at the south-west headquarters, is on record, dated november th, and was addressed to the tsaritza. it was evidently a reply to her frantic request: "tell our dear father (rasputin) that to postpone the duma would, i fear, create an unfavourable impression, and i judge impossible. protopopoff has asked my authority to arrest miliukoff upon some technical charge, but i do not consider such a course good policy. i agree that to-day's situation is grave, and agree that at the last moment some steps should be taken to prevent him from speaking." on receipt of that very unsatisfactory reply the tsaritza summoned the mock-monk, who was remaining at the palace evidently awaiting the emperor's reply. sturmer and madame vyrubova, the high-priestess of the rasputin cult, were also present. what actually transpired at that council of three is unknown. it is, however, beyond question that it was arranged that m. miliukoff, whom they held in such fear--as well as a friend of his, a conservative deputy named puriskevitch--should be "removed." that the illiterate scoundrel, with his unique knowledge of the scriptures, was an adept in the art of using certain secret drugs, and that by his hand several persons obnoxious to the camarilla had died mysteriously is now proved beyond any doubt, for as cleverly as he systematically drugged the poor little tsarevitch, so also he could with amazing cunning "arrange" the deaths of those who might betray him. m. miliukoff, knowing that his patriotic and hostile intentions were being suspected, took such precautions, however, that even the bold emissaries of rasputin failed to approach him. at noon, on november th, the minister protopopoff wrote a hurried note upon the paper of the ministry of the interior, which is on record, and is as follows: "dear friend gregory,--how is it that your plans have so utterly failed and m. (miliukoff) is still active? to-day at the duma meets! cannot you arrange that he is absent? cannot you work a miracle? skoropadski (a well-known german agent) has betrayed us and put the most incriminating documents into m.'s hands. we tried to arrest the fellow last night in riga, but, alas, he has eluded us. take every precaution for your own safety. if m. attends the sitting we are all lost.--yours cordially, d.a.p." the plot to kill m. miliukoff had failed! the empress knew of it and sat in the winter palace, pale, breathless and eager for messages over her private telephone. the vile, black work done by her "holy father" was to be exposed! what if her own imperial self were exhibited in her true traitorous colours! meanwhile, at two o'clock, m. rodzianko took his seat as president at the tauris palace. the usual service was held and then the historic sitting of the duma opened. the house was crowded, and the british, french and italian ambassadors being in the diplomatic box, the members, octobrists, progressive nationalists, the centre, the zemsto octobrists and cadets, rose in one body and gave vociferous cheers for the allies. "russia will win!" they cried. the first speaker was m. garusewicz, who, on behalf of the polish club, addressed the allied powers, protesting against the austro-german action and expressing the hope and confidence that a final solution of the polish problem would be the outcome of the war. the two men whom the camarilla had plotted to murder were calmly in their places. m. miliukoff, a pleasant-looking grey-haired man, sat gazing at the speaker through his gold-rimmed spectacles, listening attentively until the speaker had concluded. meanwhile the tsaritza, sitting in her luxurious little room in the palace with the dissolute anna vyrubova as her sole companion, was listening to messages which, as arranged, came to her over the telephone every ten minutes. at last m. miliukoff rose, quite calm, and bowed to the president. instantly there was silence. without mincing matters in the least he told the house--in a speech which was wholly suppressed by the authorities--how the camarilla had endeavoured to remove him but in vain; and then, after many hard words which electrified all present, he denounced the "saint" as the dark and sinister force which was hurling the russian empire to its destruction. then, branding the pro-german prime minister boris sturmer as "judas the traitor," he took up a bundle of documents, and shaking them in his hand dramatically he declared: "i have here, gentlemen, the evidence of judas. evidence in cold figures-- the number of shekels, the pieces of silver, for betrayal." the house sat breathless! the ghastly truth was out. when m. miliukoff sat down his friend m. puriskevitch rose politely and asked permission and indulgence to make a speech in german--the hated language--promising it should be very brief. all he uttered were the two words: "hofmeister sturmer!" the duma, understanding, cheered to the echo. over the telephone the empress, pale and neurotic, listened to what had been alleged against her "holy father" and his friend sturmer, whereupon she suddenly gave a low scream and fainted. the truth was out at last! the first blow of retribution had on that afternoon fallen upon the imperial house of romanoff. but rasputin, the amazing, remained unperturbed. he merely smiled evilly. the game had become desperate, he knew, but he still had other cards to play. chapter ten. discloses the charlatan's wiles. up till this juncture the penalty for even mentioning the name of rasputin was imprisonment. the censorship, controlled by his catspaw protopopoff, took care to adopt the most drastic measures to suppress every mention of the mysterious "saint" who was the centre of that band of neurotic noblewomen who kissed his filthy hands and bowed their knees to him. "o holy father! the chosen one of god! give us thy blessing and we beseech of thee to pray for us. may the sin we here commit be committed for the purification of our souls; and may we, thy sister-disciples, be raised to thine own plane of piety by god's great mercy." thus ran the blasphemous opening prayer repeated at each of the scoundrel's erotic reunions--those meetings held with closed doors both within the palace of tsarskoe-selo, in the gorokhovaya, and elsewhere. but on that historic november th, , the "saint" had been publicly named, and hence became seriously alarmed. two hours after the fearless miliukoff had denounced him in the duma the whole of petrograd palpitated with excitement. all knew that the utterances of the fearless patriot who had actually pilloried the monk in public would be denied publication in the press. therefore those who were bent upon winning the war at once arranged to have typewritten copies of the speech circulated from hand to hand, and by that means the bold denunciation obtained a wider circulation than any other words ever spoken in the duma. the newspapers appeared with black columns. "m. miliukoff continued the debate," was all that was allowed to appear in print. the cables to the allies were rigorously censored, so that in england even downing street were in ignorance of what had really occurred. paris, london and rome were still living in a fool's paradise, thanks to the grip which germany had gained upon official petrograd, and were being led to believe that all in the russian empire were united against the hated hun. the reports in the british press of that period were most mystifying. that the duma were dissatisfied with the state of affairs was plain, but had not the house of commons often expressed equal dissatisfaction? the fact, however, that the name of rasputin had actually been mentioned and that the "holy father" had been exposed as germany's spy, who controlled the "hofmeister sturmer," was never dreamed until a month later, even by such outspoken journals as the paris _matin_. at tsarskoe-selo, however, all were in deadly fear. even anna vyrubova viewed the situation with greatest alarm. she wrote to him an hour after miliukoff had denounced him, as follows: "her majesty is prostrated. all seems lost. the emperor departs for the front again at midnight. he fears a rising in petrograd, and is regretful that m. (miliukoff) was not suppressed in time to save us. someone, he says, has blundered. if you would save yourself go instantly upon a pilgrimage. describe a vision that will allay the people's anger and give them further confidence in you. m. has denounced you as a mocker of god and a mere juggler with woman's credulity. our dear empress knows you are not. but she must continue in that belief. shall alexis be taken with another seizure? if so, prophesy the day and hour. i await word from you in secret, and ask your blessing.--your sister, anna." the suggestion in this letter is, of course, that a dose of the secret drug be administered to the poor little tsarevitch at an hour to be previously prophesied by the mock-monk. the matter was, however, on the alert. on receipt of the letter he went at once to the palace, abruptly leaving the camarilla who had assembled to plot further, and to save themselves and their own fat emoluments by more juggling with the security of the empire. to the empress, whom he found in her _neglige_ in her boudoir, with anna in sole attendance, he said: "truly, o sister! our enemies seek to encompass us! but god is our strength. as surely as the russian people have denounced me, so surely will god in his wrath send his punishment upon the heir to the throne. miliukoff, who has sought the protection of satan himself, has spoken his poisonous words against me. therefore i go to-morrow upon a pilgrimage to retire and to pray for the future of the empire, and the forgiveness of those who have dared to speak ill of one sent by god as the deliverer." "no! no!" gasped her majesty, starting from her chair in pale alarm. "you will not leave us at this juncture--you will not, holy father, leave us to our fate?" "it is decreed," he said in that low hard voice of his. "i have witnessed a vision even an hour since--i have heard the voice! i must obey. but," he added seriously, "i tell thee, o sister! that near five o'clock in the morning of the day following to-morrow thy dear son will be visited by god's wrath. he--" "he will be again ill!" gasped the unhappy woman, who believed that the bearded man in the black kaftan before her was sent by providence as russia's deliverer. "surely you cannot mean that! you will pray for him--you will save him. remember he is my son--my all!" "truly i mean what i have spoken, o sister!" was his reply. "but i will pray for his recovery--and all can be achieved by the sacrifice of the flesh and by prayer. god grant his recovery!" he added piously, making the sign of the cross and raising his mesmeric eyes heavenwards. at this the hysterical traitress in her pale-pink gown edged with wide eastern embroidery of emeralds and turquoises, fell upon her knees and kissed the scoundrel's knotted, unclean fingers, while her faithful anna looked on and crossed herself, muttering one of the prayers in the blasphemous jargon of the "sister-disciples." the failure to assassinate professor miliukoff had brought home to the camarilla and also to the spy-bureau in berlin--acting through swedish diplomatic channels--that the grand dukes nicholas, serge and dmitri, together with their small circle of staunch friends of the nobility, were determined to place them in the pillory. the agent of germany, skoropadski, a friend of the notorious azeff, of the russian secret police, whose exploits before the war were often chronicled, had betrayed his employers. commencing life as a russian _agent provocateur_, employed in warsaw against the revolutionists, and consequently a most unscrupulous and heartless person, he had entered the service of germany with protopopoff's connivance and had been the means of the ruin and downfall of dozens of patriotic russian officials. by virtue of his office as spy of germany he knew the double game that the prime minister, sturmer, was playing at rasputin's instigation. documents passed through his hands, and often he passed in secret between petrograd and berlin and _vice versa_, posing as a swede and travelling by way of stockholm. he was an expert spy, and ready to serve any paymaster. furthermore, he had a grudge against rasputin because one of his own lady friends had joined the cult of "believers," and thus had his hatred been aroused. therefore, when the little band of patriots at the head of which was the grand duke nicholas approached him in secret, he was at once ready to place the most damning documentary evidence in their hands--those papers which professor miliukoff had flashed in the faces of the duma. the anger of sturmer and protopopoff was now at a white heat. the latter, as controller of the secret police, made every effort to arrest the artful pole, but he happily escaped, and is now believed to be in paris. such was the story, revealed here for the first time, of the manner in which the revolutionists were able to present to the people's representative the infamous acts of the monk rasputin and his official "creatures" who wore their tinselled uniforms, their tin decorations and enjoyed titles of "excellency." traitors have been in every land since the creation; and, as i examined this amazing _dossier_ collected by the patriotic party in russia, with its original letters, its copies of letters, its photographs and its telegrams in the sloped calligraphy of their senders, i marvel, and wonder who in other countries are the traitors--who while pretending to serve their own kings or their presidents are also serving the mammon of germania? i pen these chapters of the downfall of tsardom with unwilling hand, for i have many friends in russia and, as a traveller in the land of the tsar over many thousands of versts, i have grown to know--perhaps only slightly--the hearty, homely and hospitable russian people. i have suffered discomforts for months among those clouds of mosquitoes on the great "tundra," and i have travelled many and many weary miles over the snows of winter, yet never did i think that i should sit to chronicle such a _debacle_. notwithstanding the tears of the empress, the villainous rasputin, having arranged with anna the hour when she should drug the poor little tsarevitch, departed on a pilgrimage to the monastery of tsarytsine. facts concerning this journey, when he fled from the wrath of the people, have just been revealed by his friend the monk helidor, who having learnt the manner in which he betrayed the empire, has come forward to elucidate many things hitherto mysterious. helidor, who is a man of high intelligence and true religious principles, has stated that at rasputin's invitation both he and monsignor hermogene joined "grichka," as he terms his dissolute friend, upon the pilgrimage. rasputin the traitor was received everywhere as an angel from heaven. the people of all classes prostrated themselves and kissed his unclean hands. in tsarytsine during two days he entered many houses, where he embraced all the good-looking women, but discarded the old and ugly. he was often drunk and riotous. on entering the monastery at last he isolated himself for four days on pretence of prayer, but he was assisted in his religious exercises by a good-looking young nun with whom he openly walked in the monastery grounds. tired of the retirement and the nun's companionship, he travelled to his native siberian village of pokrovsky, helidor accompanying him. "during our journey, which was a long one," helidor says, "i tried to discover some testimony to the sanctity of my companion. i only found him to be a most uncouth and dissolute person, whose constant talk was of women, and who drank incessantly. i had been mystified by him until then, but i realised that even having been denounced in the duma, he was quite undisturbed, for his egotism was colossal, and he constantly declared to me that he was the actual autocrat." helidor's description of the so-called "monastery" at pokrovsky is interesting as being from an authentic and reliable source. "we arrived there at last," he declared in an interview the other day. "it was a mean siberian village half hidden in the siberian snow, for the winter was unduly early. i observed my host closely, for i now knew him to be a traitor and a charlatan. the `monastery' as he called it in petrograd, and for which hundreds gave him subscriptions, was not a religious house at all, and it had never been consecrated as such. rasputin himself was not even a monk, for he had never been received into the church." in describing this "monastery" for which the monk had filched thousands upon thousands of roubles from the pockets of his neophytes in petrograd, helidor says: "it was a large house, which had only recently been furnished luxuriously. it was full of holy ikons, of portraits of women, and of magnificent presents from their majesties. the occupants of the place numbered a dozen women, mostly young, garbed as nuns and performing daily religious observances." apparently the establishment was a siberian "abode of love," much upon the lines, as the smyth-piggott cult, yet helidor has declared that what struck him most was the open hostility of the mujiks towards the "holy father." "they are annoyed, my dear brother helidor, because you have come with me from petrograd," the "saint" declared in excuse. but helidor noticed that antoine, the archbishop of tobolsk, who visited him, betrayed the same marked hostility, while the people of the village all declared without mincing matters that grichka, whom they had known as a convicted horse-thief and assaulter of women, was merely a _debauche_. again came wild telegrams from the empress. the "saint's" prophecy had been fulfilled and the tsarevitch had been taken seriously ill at the exact hour he had predicted. "nikki has returned. both of us are in deadly fear," she telegraphed. "kousmin (the court physician) cannot diagnose the malady. come to us at once, holy father, i pray to you, come and save us. give your blessing and your sympathy to your devoted sister.--a." at the same time his majesty sent a telegraphic message to the man who made and unmade ministers and who ruled all russia at home and in the field. it was despatched from the winter palace half-an-hour after the message of the empress, and read: "friend, i cannot command, but i beg of you to return instantly to us. we want your help. without it, alexis will die, and the house of romanoff is doomed. i have sent the imperial train to you. it leaves in an hour.--nicholas." of this summons the villainous ex-thief took no notice. helidor says: "he showed me the telegrams and laughed triumphantly, saying, `nikki seems very much troubled! why does he not return to the front and urge on his soldiers against the advancing hosts.' the greater our losses the nearer shall we be to peace. i shall take care that ignorant russia will not win against the causes of civilisation and humanity." "civilisation and humanity!" this illiterate and dissolute peasant, who each night became hopelessly intoxicated and who in his cups would revile his paymasters the huns and chant in his deep bass voice refrains of russian patriotic airs, was actually the dear "friend" of the tsar of all the russias! the vicious scoundrel's influence was reaching its zenith. to western readers the whole facts may well appear incredible. but those who know russia, with its complex world of official corruption and "religious" chicanery, are well aware how anything may happen to that huge empire when at war. after a fortnight's silence, during which the sinister hand of anna vyrubova regularly administered that secret drug to the poor, helpless son of the emperor, rasputin, with amazing effrontery, dared again to put his foot in petrograd. on the night of his arrival the tsaritza, awaiting him anxiously at tsarskoe-selo, sent him a note by ivan radzick, the trusted body-servant of the emperor for fifteen years, a note which the miracle-worker preserved most carefully, and which ran as follows: "holy father,--i await you eagerly. boris (sturmer) and fredericks are with me. things are increasingly critical. hasten to us at once and cure poor little alexis, or he will die. the doctors are powerless. i have had urgent news from berlin. miliukoff must be removed, and so must kerensky and nicholas (the grand duke). boris has arranged it. you have the means. something must happen to them within the next forty-eight hours. nicholas has handed nikki an abominable letter of threats. the british ambassador is wary and knows of this. his despatches to london to-night must be intercepted. i am sending the car for you, and await in eagerness once again to kiss your dear hands.-- your devoted sister, alec." chapter eleven. bamboozling the allies. as a result of the denunciation in the duma of "russia's dark forces," boris sturmer was deprived of the premiership and appointed by the tsaritza's influence to a high office in the imperial household, where he could still unite with baron fredericks in playing germany's game. a few days after this re-shuffling of the cards, m. trepoff, the new premier, made a reassuring statement to the duma, in which he said: "there will never be a premature or separate peace. nothing can change this resolution, which is the inflexible will of the august russian sovereign, who stands for the whole of his faithful people." how rasputin and the camarilla must have chuckled when they read these words of reassurance! on the very day that declaration was made the monk had received a telegram in cipher from stockholm, whither it had been first sent from the koniggratzer-strasse in berlin, and which, de-coded, reads as follows: "gregersen (a well-known german agent who had actively assisted von papen in america) is arriving at archangel upon a munition ship from new york. you will have early news of him. see that he is placed under p.'s (protopopoff's) protection. he will bring you four boxes. do not open them, but see they are stored carefully. hand them to our friend r. (professor rogovitch, of samara, a bacteriologist and friend of rasputin).--number ." the monk had "early news" of the arrival of the spy gregersen, for on the day following the receipt of that advice of his coming, the ship upon which he had travelled from new york blew up in archangel harbour, and no fewer than one thousand, eight hundred persons were killed or injured! gregersen arrived at the gorokhovaya that same night, and there met protopopoff, who furnished him with false papers, upon which his photograph was pasted and sealed. the four wooden boxes which the spy had brought from america, and which contained the bacilli of anthrax and bubonic plague, were, two days later, handed by the monk to the professor. but the latter, carelessly handling them when opening them, became infected with anthrax himself, and subsequently died in great agony. by the scoundrel's timely death russia was spared an epidemic of those two terrible diseases, it being the intention of rogovitch and rasputin to infect with plague the rats in moscow and other cities. the fact can never, of course, be disguised that the tsar was fully cognisant of rasputin's evil influence at the imperial court, though it seems equally certain that he never suspected him to be the arch-plotter and creature of the kaiser that he really was. before the war, nicholas ii had lived a hermit's life at tsarskoe-selo. every foreign diplomat who has been stationed in petrograd since his accession knows that he was the echo of everyone's opinion except his own. the flexibility of his mind was only equalled by its emptiness. personal in everything, weak, shallow-minded, yet well-intentioned, he had long been interested in spiritualistic seances and table-turning. indeed, the most notorious frauds and charlatans who brought psychical studies into disrepute have had the honour of "performing" before his majesty, and have even received decorations from the hands of the gulled emperor. it is, therefore, not surprising that this bold and amazingly cunning siberian peasant known as "grichka," with his mock miracles--worked by means of drugs supplied to him by the fellow badmayeff, another charlatan who represented himself as an expert upon "thibetan" medicine and who had a large clientele in petrograd society--could so gull the emperor that he actually consulted "the holy father" upon the most important matters concerning the state. through the critical year of grace, , when the future of the world's civilisation was trembling in the balance, the allies lived utterly unsuspicious of this astounding state of affairs. downing street and the quai d'orsay were in ignorance of the deeply-laid plot of the emperor william to crush and destroy that splendid piece of patriotic machinery, "the russian steam-roller." we in england were frantically making munitions for russia, and lending her the sinews of war, merely regarding the erotic monk as a society tea-drinking buffoon such as one meets in every capital. the truth has, however, been revealed by the amazing results of diligent inquiries made by that patriotic little band of russians who united at the end of to rid the empire of its most dangerous enemy, and have placed their secret reports in my hands. the emperor, though exceedingly rancorous, and though in appearance a quiet, inoffensive little man, was yet capable of the utmost cruelty and hardness. he has been responsible for some terrible miscarriages of justice. his callousness is well-known. after the catastrophe of khodinska, which cost the lives of nearly two thousand of his subjects, he danced the whole night at a ball given by the french ambassador, while on reading the telegram which told him of the disaster of tsushima, which cost russia her whole fleet and the loss of so many precious lives, he made no remark, but continued his game of tennis in the park of tsarskoe-selo. those of his personal entourage wondered. they asked themselves whether it was stoicism, indifference, or a strength of mind abnormal. it was neither. throughout the whole career of nicholas ii his only thought had been to flee from danger, and to leave to others the task of pulling the chestnuts from the fire. rasputin and his shrewd and clever fellow-traitors knew all this, and were acting upon the emperor's weaknesses, more especially upon his majesty's belief in spiritualism and his fear to thwart the imperious declarations of his german-born wife. alexandra feodorovna, the complex neurotic woman who had begun her career as empress by determining to exclude from court all ladies with blemished reputations, and all those black sheep who creep by back-stair influence into every court of europe, had now under rasputin's influence welcomed any of the monk's lady friends, however tarnished their reputations. there can be no doubt that the empress's nerves were not in a sound condition. true, she was in constant communication with germany, and her actions showed her readiness to betray russia into the hands of her own people. this fact the world ought to take into consideration. the empress is the most interesting character-study in the world to-day. we can have no sympathy with those who are traitors, yet it has been clearly proved that the horrors of the revolution had left a deep impression on her mind. she had no fatalism in her character, and she lived in daily dread of seeing her children and husband murdered. she had no courage. her highly-strung nature took more seriously to the soothing effect of the evil monk rasputin's teaching than would the mind of a woman of normal calibre; hence, while "nikki" her husband believed implicitly in "dear gregory's" advice, she also believed him to be the heaven-sent deliverer of russia, to wrest it from disaster, and to give to the poor little tsarevitch good health as heir to the romanoff dynasty. those latter days of were truly strenuous ones in the imperial household. on december th the emperor had left for moscow, and to him the tsaritza telegraphed in their private code, as follows: "tsarskoe-selo, december th, : a.m. "gregory says that zakomelsky is proposing a resolution denouncing him at the council of the empire to-morrow. at all costs this must be prevented. boris and fredericks agree. you must stop it.--alec." to this there was sent a reply, the copy being on record: "moscow, december th, p.m. "quite agree with undesirability of allowing z. to criticise, but cannot see how i can prevent it, unless by arrest. i am communicating with a certain quarter. shall return to-morrow.--nikki." apparently the emperor, whatever steps he took, was unable to secure the arrest of the leader of the centre, for on the following day, at the meeting of the council, the resolution was moved by the baron meller zakomelsky, who recognised m. trepoff's honest and sincere desire to combat the so-called "dark forces," but warned the prime minister that the method chosen by him was wrong. the only effective weapon, he said, was light, and the duma and the council called on the government to join them in revealing and denouncing the notorious sinister influence. the whole of russia awaited the eradication of the plague which was corroding the state organism. this resolution apparently stirred into action the forces gradually arising to combat the camarilla, for on december th, baroness mesentzoff, wife of baron paul mesentzoff, chamberlain and councillor of state, and a fair-haired "sister-disciple" of rasputin's, sent him a letter of warning which is in existence, and of which i here give an english translation. it was handed to him late at night at his home in the gorokhovaya. seated with him in that little sanctum into which his neophytes were admitted by his discreet body-servant, and drinking heavily as usual, were sturmer, the ex-premier, and a man named kartchevsky, a renegade, who was actually at that moment secretary to general von beseler, the german governor-general of warsaw. the letter read as follows: "holy father,--i have been with anna (madame vyrubova) and olga (the tsar's daughter) an hour ago. i have told them to warn her majesty the empress of a desperate plot against you. do beware, i pray you, of youssoupoff, and of the grand duke dmitri. there is a conspiracy to kill you! "your pretended friend pourichkevitch dined with me to-night, and he, too, intends that you shall be removed. we all pray that no harm shall befall you. but i send this at once in warning. i shall be at the seance tomorrow, when i hope to have an opportunity of speaking with you alone. a young friend of mine, nadjezda boldyieff, daughter of the general at kiev, is anxious to enter our circle. so i shall bring her with me. but do, i beg of you, heed this warning, and avoid all contact with the persons herein named.--your sister, feo." the monk, who was in his cups, as he usually was after midnight-- according to his servant's statement--handed the letter to sturmer with an inane laugh. and stroking his beard, said with his extraordinary egotism: "enemies! why do these silly impetuous women warn me? i am careful enough to look after myself. i rule russia--at the orders of the emperor william! the tsar is only tsar in name. the emperor is myself, gregory the monk!" "but pourichkevitch is dangerous," declared the traitorous ex-prime minister. "he is the fiercest member of the extreme right, and our friend protopopoff has lately received many reports concerning him through the secret police." "if so, then why is he not imprisoned?" asked rasputin. "protopopoff is far too hesitating. a few compromising documents introduced into his house, a police search, an arrest, a word to the emperor--and he would have an uncomfortable little room beneath the lake in the fortress of schusselburg. no, our friend protopopoff is far too weak. he dallies too much for the public favour. what is it worth? personally, i prefer their hatred." "and yet you are the great healer--the idol of the working-class, just as gapon was long ago!" laughed the ex-premier. "yes, i am their grichka," laughed rasputin in his drunken humour. "it is true, my dear boris. there is but one tsar, and it is myself--eh?" and he chuckled as he drained his glass of champagne, and laughed at the warning sent him by the woman who had sat at his knee and who had given over her whole private fortune to him, just as a dozen other society women in petrograd had done. if his "sister-disciples" failed him in funds, then he simply held their letters and blackmailed them till he drove them to desperation, and in six known cases to suicide. the fears of the empress alexandra feodorovna for the safety of her pet monk in whom she believed so devoutly, seem to have been aroused by the warning given by the baroness mesentzoff, for next day there came to him an urgent telegram from gatchina, where the tsaritza had gone on a visit to the dowager empress. it read: "you are in grave danger. mother superior paula, of the novo-devitsky nunnery, has disclosed something to me. come to tsarskoe-selo at once. nikki is eager to consult you.--a." the monk was quick to realise by this telegram his true position in the imperial household. only a few weeks before anna vyrubova, the high-priestess of his disgraceful cult, had warned him of his waning influence. but he had not cared one jot, because, in his safe, he had stowed hundreds of letters and telegrams from society women compromising themselves. by the sale of these he could obtain sufficient money to establish a fortune for the rest of his life. here, however, a new phase had arisen. he was in active communication with germany, he had already wrecked russia's splendid offensive, and was gradually bringing the empire into bad odour with neutrals. for this he had, in secret, received the heartfelt thanks of his imperial paymaster the kaiser. german money was flowing to him from all quarters, and german agents were swarming in petrograd, as well as across the russian front. brusiloff was doing his best, but having gauged the position, had realised that it was becoming hopeless. german influence was eating the heart out of russia as a canker-worm--and that canker-worm was gregory rasputin himself. in consequence of the telegram from the empress, followed by a letter sent by imperial messenger by the grand duchess olga, the monk hastened to the palace and had a long interview with her majesty. he left with anna vyrubova soon after noon in one of the imperial cars which were always at his disposal, in consequence of the seance arranged at his house in petrograd, and more especially because the baroness mesentzoff had sent him a photograph of nadjezda boldyieff, who was anxious to join the "disciples." notwithstanding the critical situation, the seance was held, and the handsome nadjezda was admitted to the "sisterhood." truly those were critical days in russia. the rascal had been warned, but did not heed. the allies, fighting for the just cause, were in ignorance of the fierce resentment now aroused in the hearts of the russian people by the denunciation in the duma by those who were bold enough to speak their minds and defy the camarilla. the news allowed out of russia during the last month of the year was most meagre. protopopoff, the kaiser's silk-hatted creature, controlled it, and only allowed intelligence of the most optimistic character to filter through to us. hence while the british, american, and french press were publishing wholly fictitious accounts of russia's gains, the "miracle-worker" was daily driving the imperial house of romanoff towards the abyss of oblivion. chapter twelve. the true story of rasputin's end. events were now proceeding apace. the grand duke nicholas michailovitch had dared to seek audience of the tsar, at which he had handed him a memorandum of protest. in this letter, which is still upon record, the grand duke wrote: "where is the root of the evil? let me explain it in a few words. "so long as your manner of choosing ministers was known to narrow circles, things could muddle along, but when it became a matter of public knowledge and all classes in russia talked about it, it was senseless to attempt to continue to govern russia in this fashion. often did you tell me that you could put faith in no one, and that you were being deceived. "if this is so, then it applies particularly to your wife, who loves you and yet led you into error, being surrounded by evil-minded intimates. you believe in alexandra feodorovna. this is natural. but the words she utters are the product of skilful machinations, not of truth. if you are powerless to liberate her from these influences, then at all events be on your guard against constant and systematic influence of intriguers who are using your wife as their instrument... if you could remove the persistent interference of dark forces in all matters, the regeneration of russia would instantly be advanced, and you would regain the confidence of the enormous majority of your subjects, which you have forfeited." this was pretty outspoken. but further, during the course of the conversation, the grand duke spoke of protopopoff and asked nicholas ii whether he was aware that this politician had been palmed off on him by the agency of rasputin, whom protopopoff had first met at the home of the charlatan badmayeff, the man who secretly practised so-called "thibetan" medicine and who supplied the "saint" with his drugs. the emperor smiled and declared that he was already acquainted with the facts. the emperor took the memorandum to the empress and read it aloud to her. when he came to the passage dealing with the evil influences surrounding her, she flew into a rage, seized the document, and tore it up in the tsar's face! meanwhile the camarilla were still plotting further the downfall of russia, and endeavouring to implicate sturmer's successor. suddenly, on december th, the greatest consternation was caused both in society circles in petrograd and at the palace of tsarskoe-selo, owing to rumours that rasputin was missing. he had been absent from the capital on many occasions, travelling upon his supposed pilgrimages, but there was persistent gossip on the nevski that something had happened. after the _debacle_ three telegrams in english were found in the department of posts and telegraphs. they had been sent by the empress from tsarskoe-selo to the emperor, and read as follows: "tsarskoe-selo, december th. "i am worried by the awful rumours. no details. remember what i wrote to you.--alec." four days later her majesty telegraphed again to the tsar: "tsarskoe-selo, december th, : p.m. "can you send voyeipoff to me at once? i want his help and advice. we still hope for the best. dmitri and felix are implicated.--alec." six hours later she again telegraphed frantically: "tsarskoe-selo, december th, : p.m. "nothing discovered yet. felix stopped on his way to crimea. how i wish you were here.--alec." and again at midnight she sent two further telegrams. the first read: "tsarskoe-selo, december th, : p.m. "father (rasputin) is no more. punish the enemies of russia and of our house. come back at once. i can bear it no longer.--alec." the second was addressed: "to father makarius, verkhotursky monastery, perm. "december th, midnight. "great misfortune. something happened to father (rasputin). pray for him and for us. those responsible will be punished. come at once to us.--alexandra." for days the sensational affair was hushed-up from the public by order of the tsar, and with the connivance of protopopoff. many fictitious accounts have appeared in the press regarding the final hours of the amazing rascal who, as tool of the emperor william, brought to an end the imperial house of romanoff. i am here enabled, however, to explain the truth from an authentic source, namely, from the statement of a lady--a russian nursing-sister-- who was an eye-witness and who is in london at the moment when i write. the lady in question is well known in london, and i have begged her to allow me to disclose her name, but for certain reasons she has held me to my promise of secrecy. there are, one must remember, still influential friends of rasputin in russia, and as she is returning there, her objection is obvious. it seems that on december th (russian style) the "saint" had been invited to the elegant house of prince youssoupoff to a merry supper. the _penchant_ of the monk for a pretty face and a mysterious adventure being well-known, it had been hinted to him that a certain lady who desired to remain incognito, wished to meet him. now the house of prince youssoupoff in petrograd--who, by the way, had a house in london before the war and was well-known in mayfair--runs from the moskaya to the offitzerskaya, where at a back entrance, the wine from the famous estate in the crimea is sold, just as wine is sold at the mediaeval palaces of florence. the prince was supposed to be alone to meet his guest and this mysterious young and pretty lady who desired to enter the cult of the "sister-disciples." as a matter of fact, however, there were assembled in a room on the first floor several persons determined to rid russia of this erotic traitor who was daily betraying her into the hands of the huns. they were the prince youssoupoff, the grand duke dmitri (who was suspected by the empress), the deputy of the extreme right, pourichkevitch, a man named stepanoff, a well-known _danseuse_ (the mysterious lady who acted as decoy, named mademoiselle c--), and the lady who has described the scene to me. eleven o'clock struck. it was a dramatic scene. all were anxious for rasputin's arrival, but he did not come. the prince went to the telephone and asked for the monk at his house. the reply was that the father had gone out to dine somewhere early in the evening. would he come? would he walk into the trap so cunningly baited for him? the moments seemed hours as the little assembly sat waiting and discussing whether any one could have given him warning, for it was known that the "miracle-worker" had, through his catspaw protopopoff, spies set everywhere. at twenty minutes past eleven a car was heard at the back-door in the offitzerskaya, and his host, rushing down, admitted him mysteriously. the monk removed his big sable-lined coat, disclosing his black clerical garb and big bejewelled cross suspended around his neck. then he removed his galoshes, for it was snowing hard outside. "you need not be afraid, father," said his host. "we are alone, except for my friend stepanoff. he is one of us," he laughed merrily. then he conducted the "saint" into the large handsome dining-room, where a tall, fair-bearded man, paul stepanoff, came forward to meet him. upon the table were two bottles of wine. into one cyanide of potassium had been introduced, and its potency had an hour before been tried upon a dog, which at the moment was lying dead in the yard outside. after stepanoff had been introduced, the prince said in a confidential tone: "the lady i mentioned has not yet arrived. i shall go to the door to await her so that the servants are not disturbed." thus the father was left with his merry, easy-going fellow-guest, who at a glance he saw was a _bon viveur_ like himself. the two men began to talk of spiritualism, in which stepanoff declared himself to be much interested, and a few minutes later he poured out some wine, filling the father's glass from the poisoned bottle while he attracted his attention to a picture at the end of the room. they raised their glasses, and drank. some dry biscuits were in a silver box, and after rasputin had drained his glass, he took a biscuit and munched it. but to stepanoff's amazement the poison took no effect! was the monk after all under some divine or mysterious protection? stepanoff was expecting him to be seized by paroxysms of agony every moment. on the contrary, he was still calm and expectant regarding the mysterious lady whom he was to meet. suddenly, however, rasputin, slightly paler than usual, exclaimed: "curious! i do not feel very well!" and he crossed the room to examine an ancient crucifix, beautifully jewelled, which was standing upon a side table. stepanoff rose and followed him, remarking on the beauty of the sacred emblem, yet aghast that the "saint" could take such a dose of poison and yet remain unharmed. prince youssoupoff with the others, was standing silent in the upstairs room eagerly awaiting stepanoff's announcement that the traitor was no more. those moments were breathless ones. what, they wondered, was happening below! they listened, and could hear the voices of the pair below still in conversation. "ah! that spasm has passed!" rasputin was heard to declare. passed! was he immune from the effects of that most deadly poison? they looked at each other astounded. the fact was that he had only sipped the wine, and having had sufficient already to drink he had contrived to empty his glass into a dark porcelain flower-bowl. the monk had taken the big crucifix in his hand to examine it the more closely, when stepanoff, seeing that rasputin was still unharmed suddenly drew a big browning pistol, and, placing it under the monk's arm and against his breast, fired. the others above, hearing the shot, rushed out upon the wide balcony, while stepanoff dashed up the stairs to meet them, crying: "the saint is dead at last! russia is freed of the scoundrel!" the others shouted joy, and re-entering the room, toasted the liberation and regeneration of russia. suddenly, they heard a noise and went out upon the balcony again, when, to their horror, they saw the door of the dining-room opened, and rasputin, haggard and blood-stained, staggering forth, with an imprecation upon his lips, to the door opening to the street, in an effort to escape! the attempt at poisoning him had failed, and he had only been wounded. the tension was breathless. was he after all endowed with some supernatural power? "you have tried to kill me!" shrieked the monk, his hands stained with blood. "but i still live--i live!--and god will give me my revenge!" with his hands clasped over the spot where he had been wounded, he gave vent to a peal of demoniacal laughter, which held the little knot of witnesses on the balcony utterly dumbfounded and appalled. only one man seemed to have courage to stir. according to the lady who was present and who gives me the description which i here reproduce--the only true and authentic account of the affair--stepanoff, his revolver still in his hand, again dashed down the stairs, and preventing the monk from opening the outer door, sprang upon him and emptied the contents of his weapon, barrel after barrel, into the monk's head. at last the spy and traitor was dead! ten minutes later a closed car arrived containing doctor stanislas l--, and driven by a soldier in uniform named ivan f--. in the car the body of the monk was placed by the doctor, the soldier, and the patriotic executioner stepanoff. leaving the prince and those who had assembled to witness the death of the hated agent of the kaiser who had so misled the russian imperial family and the russian people, and who had been directly and indirectly responsible for the death of thousands of brave men, british and french, on the various battle-fronts, the men drove with the fellow's body, the great golden cross still dangling around its neck, to the petrovsky bridge. it was very dark and snowy. nobody was about, therefore the doctor, the soldier, and the man who had that night lopped off the tentacle of the german octopus in russia, carried the body to a point between the second and third arches of the bridge. here it had been ascertained earlier in the night that the ice was broken, and a large hole existed. they raised the body to cast it over when, horror! the dead hand caught in the soldier's shoulder-strap! "is this a curse upon me?" gasped ivan. "curse or not, he goes!" cried stepanoff, and all three hurled him over the parapet. there was a loud splash. then all was silent again, and the trio, re-entering the car, drove hurriedly away. for six days there were rumours everywhere in petrograd that "something" had happened. fredericks, sturmer, and protopopoff were frantic. the secret police, at orders of the emperor, were making every inquiry, for the holy father was missing! on december st, at p.m., the tsaritza despatched the following telegram to nicholas ii. "order maksimovitch arrest dmitri (the grand duke) in your name. dmitri waited to see me to-day. i refused. the body has not yet been found.-- alec." to this his majesty replied that he was taking every measure, and that he had ordered the grand duke nicholas into exile to his estates. then, on the following day, the distracted empress, who was grief-stricken and inconsolable at the tragedy, telegraphed "thanks for your wire. body found in the river." an abandoned motor-car soaked in blood had been found miles out of the city. it was believed to belong to a grand duke. the entire police and detective force of the capital had in the meantime been afoot, and raked through all the houses of ill-fame, gipsy singers' haunts, and in fact every conceivable place, until the finding of a blood-stained galosh, proved to have belonged to rasputin, gave evidence of a tragedy. the ice on the river and canals was, of course, several feet thick, but it is the custom in russia to cut openings where water is obtained and linen is rinsed by laundresses. divers went down, but discovered nothing; eventually, however, the body was picked up near the bank, not far from where it had been thrown in. when it was discovered the empress saw it in secret and knelt before it, crying hysterically for half-an-hour. anna vyrubova standing in silence at her side. then, at the empress's orders, it was buried privately and at night at tsarskoe-selo. in the meantime the emperor had arrived post-haste from the front, and for three days extremely guarded references to an "interesting murder" appeared in the petrograd and foreign press. alongside were printed some biographical notes regarding the chief actors in the tragedy. no mention, however, was allowed to be made of rasputin. suddenly, however, the public were told that the notorious monk had "ended his life." but nothing was said as to when or by what means. thus closed the infamous career of the dark force in russia, and by the tragedy the whole amazing truth which i have here disclosed became revealed. the secret plotting of germany, and the using of the mock-monk to sap the power of russia's offensive, will live ever in history, and will, no doubt, be the theme of many future historians. but all will agree that the words of the weak, neurotic empress, when she was told by anna vyrubova of rasputin's death, were prophetic. "dead!" she gasped, her face blanched to the lips. "if the holy father is dead, then, alas! the dynasty of the romanoffs is dead also!" those words of hers were true indeed, for within three months the tsar had signed his abdication, and the imperial pair, together with the camarilla of traitors, were prisoners in the hands of those who intended that russia should yet be re-born and freed of its teuton taint, and of the disgraceful cult of that blasphemous and scheming rascal rasputin. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ the end. [illustration: the author.] through scandinavia to moscow with many illustrations and maps by william seymour edwards author of "in to the yukon," etc. cincinnati the robert clarke co. copyright , by william seymour edwards dedication to my life-long chum, my father, these pages are affectionately dedicated. foreword these pages are made up of letters written during a little journey through scandinavia and into russia as far as moscow, some four years ago, before the smashing of the russians by the japanese. they were written to my father, and are necessarily intimate letters, in which i have jotted down what i saw and felt as the moment moved me. the truth is, i was on my honey-moon trip, and the world sang merrily to me--even in sombre russia. afterward, some of these letters were published here and there; now they are put together into this little book. i had my kodak with me and have thus been able to add to the text some of the scenes my lens made note of. it was my endeavor at the time, that the kindly circle who read the letters should see as i saw, feel as i felt, and apprehend as i apprehended; that they should share with me the delight of travel through serene and industrious denmark, among the grand and stupendous _fjelds_ and _fjords_ of romantic norway; should visit with me a moment the capital of once militant sweden, and join me in the excitement of a plunge into semi-barbarous russia. the transition from scandinavia to russia was sharp. i went from lands where the modern spirit finds full expression, as seen in the splendid schools and libraries of denmark, in the democratic and americanized atmosphere of norway, in the scientific and mechanical progressiveness of sweden. entering russia, i found myself amidst social and political conditions, mediaeval and malevolent. the wanton luxury of the enormously rich, the pinching poverty of the very poor, the political and social exaltation of the very few, the ruthless suppression of the many, here stared me in the face on every hand. the smoldering embers of discontent, profound discontent, were even then apparent. in the brief interval which has since elapsed, this smoldering discontent has become the blazing conflagration of revolution. driven against his will by inexorable fate, the czar has at first convoked the imperial douma and then, terrified by its growing aggressiveness, has summarily decreed its death. panic-struck by the apparition of popular liberty, which his own act has called forth, he is now in sinister retreat toward despotic reaction; the consternation of the unwilling bureaucracy, day by day increases; terror, abject terror, increasingly haunts the splendid palaces of the autocracy; and the inevitable and irrepressible movement of the russian people toward liberty and modern order is begun. the symptoms of social and political ailment which then discovered themselves to me are now apparent to all the world. and it is this verification of the suggestions of these letters which may now, perhaps, justify their publication. william seymour edwards. charleston-kanawha, west virginia, september , . contents page i. london to denmark across the north sea ii. esbjerg--across jutland, funen and zealand, the little belt and big belt to copenhagen, and friends met along the way iii. copenhagen, a quaint and ancient city iv. elsinore and kronborg--an evening dinner party v. across the sund to sweden and incidents of travel to kristiania vi. a day upon the rand fjord--along the etna elv to frydenlund--ole mon our driver vii. a drive along the baegna elv--the aurdals vand and many more to skogstad viii. over the height of land--a wonderful ride down the laera dal to the sogne fjord ix. a day upon the sogne fjord x. from stalheim to eida--the waterfall of skjerve fos--the mighty hardanger fjord xi. the buarbrae and folgefonden glaciers--cataracts and mountain tarns--odda to horre xii. over the lonely haukeli fjeld--witches and pixies, and maidens milking goats xiii. descending from the fjelde--the telemarken fjords--the arctic twilight xiv. kristiania to stockholm--a wedding party--differing norsk and swede xv. stockholm the venice of the north--life and color of the swedish capital--manners of the people and their king xvi. how we entered russia--the passport system--difficult to get into russia and more difficult to get out xvii. st. petersburg--the great wealth of the few--the bitter poverty of the many--conditions similar to those preceding the french revolution xviii. en route to moscow--under military guard--suspected of designs on life of the czar xix. our arrival at moscow--splendor and squalor--enlightenment and superstition--russia asiatic rather than european xx. the splendid pageant of the russian mass--the separateness of russian religious feeling from modern thought--russia mediaeval and pagan xxi. the first snows--moscow to warsaw--fat farm lands and frightful poverty of the mujiks who own them and till them--i recover my passport xxii. the slav and the jew--the slav's envy and jealousy of the jew xxiii. across germany and holland to england--a hamburg wein stube--the "simple fisher-folk" of maarken--two gulden at den haag xxiv. map of north europe. map of scandinavia and baltic russia, in profile. illustrations opposite page the author frontispiece the naero--sogne fjord the north sea the docks, esbjerg our danish railway carriage my instructor in danish our danish friends the krystal gade and round tower, copenhagen the oestergade the royal theatre, copenhagen the exchange, copenhagen the gammel strand along the quays, copenhagen an ancient moat, now the lovely oersteds park a vista of the sund elsinore the sund from kronborg's ramparts the fishing boats, elsinore a snap-shot for a dime, kronborg kronborg karl johans gade, kristiania vegetable market, kristiania kristiania, a view of the city our norwegian train along the etna elv hailing our steamer, the rand fjord the old salt ole mon feeding the ponies, tomlevolden church of vestre slidre the distant snows the baegna elv the granheims vand a herd of cows, fosheim a hamlet beneath the fjeld the author by the slidre vand ricking the rye the protected road three thousand feet of waterfall our little ship, laerdalsoeren the sogne fjord--along the sogne fjord sudals gate, on the sogne fjord the naerodal greeting our boat, aurland the hardanger fjord the soer fjord--hardanger commingling lote and skars fos the espelands fos glacier of buarbrae the gors vand the descending road to horre a mile stone cattle on the haukeli fjeld the desolate haukeli fjeld norse maiden milking goat ( illustrations) our hostesses, haukeli-saeter a norse cabin a goat herd's saeter haukeli-saeter tending the herds drying out the oats dalen on the bandaks vand norse women raking hay stockholm king's palace, stockholm ancient swedish fortress a swedish church a band of swedish horses the shore of lake maelaren, stockholm cathedral of riddarsholm norrbro, stockholm facing the gale the pier, helsingfors fishing boats along the quay, helsingfors market square, helsingfors the doebln at her pier, helsingfors a wild sea--leaving helsingfors fishing boats at mouth of the neva entering the neva along the neva our droschky, st. petersburg along the nevsky-prospekt cathedral of our lady of kazan our squealing stallions our izvostchik our landau, st. petersburg a noble's troika, st. petersburg the railway porters, st. petersburg our military guard, bargaining for apples the holy savior gate, kremlin along the gostinoi dvor, moscow cathedral of the assumption, kremlin the red square, moscow begging pilgrims, st. basil cathedral of st. basil the blessed, moscow ancient pavements, moscow bread vendors, moscow the kremlin beyond the moskva cathedral of st. savior a tram-car, moscow the out-of-works cemetery, novo dievitchy monastery church, novo dievitchy holy beggar, novo dievitchy the kremlin beneath the snows a station stop, en route to warsaw catching a kopeek--a beggar a cold day along the river moskva, moscow a russian jew jewish types, taken in russia jewish types, taken in america a dainty nurse-maid, berlin hamburg street traffic our bill of fare a gentleman of maarken a kinder of maarken among vrow and kinderen, maarken a load of hay, holland along the zuyder zee the fish market, den haag the gossips, den haag a watery lane, den haag dutch toilers map of north europe. map of scandinavia and baltic russia, in profile. [illustration: the naero--sogne fjord, norway.] through scandinavia to moscow. i. london to denmark across the north sea. esbjerg, denmark, _august , _. we came down from london to harwich toward the end of the day. our train was a "special" running to catch the steamer for denmark. we were delayed a couple of hours in the dingy, dirty london station by reason of a great fog which had crept in over harwich from the north sea, and then, the boat had to wait upon the tide. the instant the train backed in alongside the station platform--only ten minutes before it would pull out--there was the usual scramble and grab to seize a seat in the first-carriage-you-can and pandemonium reigned. h is well trained by this time, however, and i quickly had her comfortably ensconced in a seat by a window with bags and shawls pyramided by her side the better to hold a place for me. meantime, i hurried to a truck where stood awaiting me a well-tipped porter and together we safely stowed two "boxes" into a certain particular "luggage van," the number of which i was careful to note so that i might be sure quickly to find the "luggage" again, when we should arrive at harwich, else a stranger might walk off with it as aptly as with his own. our "carriage" was packed "full-up" with several men and women, who looked dourly at us and at each other as they sat glumly squeezed together, elbows in each other's ribs. so forbidding was the prospect confronting me that i did not presume to attempt a conversation. these comrades, however, soon dropped out at the way-stations, until only one lone man was left, when i took heart and made bold to accost him. i found him very civil and, recognizing me to be a foreign visitor, he spoke with freedom. one englishman never forgives another for sitting beside him, unintroduced, and squeezing him up in a railway carriage; but he harbors no such grudge against his american cousin, equally the victim of british methods. our _vis-à-vis_ had been a volunteer-trooper in south africa, and had just come back to england, after two years' hardship and exposure. he had given up a good position in order to serve his country, and had been promised that the place would be kept open for him against his return. he tells me he now finds a stay-at-home holds his job. he has "a wife and two little lads to keep," and so far he has had "no luck in finding work." there are thousands of others in as bad a fix as he, he says, returned patriots who are starving for lack of work. he denounced the entire boer-smashing business most savagely and declared that as for south africa, he "would not take the whole of it for a gift." we hear this sort of talk everywhere among the people we casually meet. the average englishman takes small pride in his army. "it gives fat jobs to the aristocracy, it is death to us," is what i have heard a dozen times remarked. our new acquaintance seemed to feel the better for having thus spoken out his mind, and when we parted, wished us a "prosperous voyage." [illustration: the north sea.] the ship was in motion within twenty minutes after our train reached the harwich pier. to my landsman's thinking the air was yet murky with the fog. big sirens were booming all about us. the melancholy clang of tidal bells sounded in sombre muffled tones from many anchored buoys. it was a drear, dank night to leave the land. we moved slowly, sounding our own hoarse whistle all the while. i stood upon the upper deck peering into the mists till we had come well out to sea. there were few boats moving, no big ones. multitudes of small schooners and sloops rode at anchor, their danger lights faintly gleaming. i wondered we did not run down and crush them, but the pilot seemed to apprehend the presence of another boat even before the smallest ray of light shone through the fog. one or two great ships we came shockingly close upon. at least, i was jarred more than once when their huge black hulks and reaching masts suddenly grew up before me out of the dead white curtain of the mists. the estuary which leads from harwich to the sea is long and tortuous. only a pilot who has been born upon it, and from boyhood learned its currents and its tides, its shallows and its shoals, may dare to guide a boat along it, even in broad day. how much greater the skill and knowledge required thus to steer a ship through these labyrinthine channels amidst the fogs and blackness of such a night! the captain told me he was always uneasy when coming out, no matter when, and never felt safe until far out upon the sea. even in open water he must keep the sharpest kind of a watch lest some one of the myriad fishing craft which haunt these waters, should lie athwart the way. the sea was quiet, rolling with a long slow swell. the rising wind soughed softly through the rigging when, toward midnight, i at last turned in. all day sunday the north sea lay smooth and glassy as a pond; no hint of the turmoil and tempest which so often rage upon its shallow depths. we did not see many vessels; far to the north i made out the smoke of a steamer which the captain said was bound for kristiansand, in norway; and south of us were a few sail, which i took to be fishing luggers from holland. nor were there many seabirds flying. the sky hung low and in the gray air was the feel of a storm in the offing. toward dark, about eight o'clock, a misty rain settled down upon us, and the rising wind began swashing the dripping waters along the decks. toward half past nine we descried a dim glimmer in the east,--a beacon light flickering through the night,--and then another with different intervals of flash, a mile or two out upon the left, and then our ears caught the deep bellow of a fog horn across the sea. we were nearing the west coast of the province of jutland, in denmark. our port lay dead ahead between the lights. another hour of cautious navigating, for there are many sand bars and shifting shoals along this coast, and we came steaming slowly, very slowly, among trembling lights--fishing smacks at anchor with their night signals burning--and then we crept up to a big black wharf. we were arrived at esbjerg. [illustration: the docks, esbjerg.] the train for copenhagen (kjoebenhavn) would leave at midnight, an eight-hours' ride and no sleeping car attached. we decided to stay aboard the ship, sleep peacefully in our wide-berthed stateroom and take a train at eleven o'clock of the morning, which would give us a daylight ride. we were entering denmark by the back door. the sea-loving traveler generally approaches by one of the ocean liners which sail direct from new york to copenhagen; those who find terror in the sea enter by way of kiel, and an all-rail ride through holland and germany, crossing the channel to ostend, dieppe, or the hook. only the few voyage across the north sea with its frequent storms--the few who, like ourselves, are good sailors and do not fear the stress of tide and tempest. we were now at esbjerg, and must cross the entire peninsula of denmark, its little belt, its big belt and the large islands of funen and zealand to reach our journey's end. i am already beginning to pick up the danish speech, a mixture of english, german, dutch and new strange throat gutturals, the latter difficult for an american larynx to make. and yet so similar is this mother tongue of scandinavia to the modern english, that i can often tell what a dane is saying by the very similarity of the sounds: "go morn"--(good morning), "farvel"--(farewell). our fellow passengers were mostly danes. this is their favorite route for coming home. they are a quiet, rather pensive people. the men, much of the time, were smoking, and drinking beer and a white brandy. the women were often sitting in the smoking room with them, enjoying, i presume, the perfume of tobacco, as every right-minded woman should, and it may be, also finding solace in the scent of the strong brown beer, which they are not themselves indisposed to quaff. the cooking on this danish boat has been good. we have keenly appreciated the improvement upon the diet of roast beef, boiled mutton, boiled ham, boiled potatoes, and boiled peas steeped in mint, which we have been compelled to exist upon during the past few weeks in britain. [illustration: our danish railway carriage.] ii. esbjerg--across jutland, funen and zealand, the little belt and the big belt to copenhagen--friends met along the way. hotel dagmar ("dahmar"), copenhagen, denmark, _august , _. here we are in "kjoebenhavn," which word you will find it quite impossible properly to pronounce, however strenuously your tongue may try. my letter, beginning in esbjerg, was broken short by the necessity of sleep. we wisely remained upon the ship and took full benefit of our comfortable berths. in the morning we were up betimes, obtained a cup of coffee and a roll, and then, sending our bags and baggage to the railway station, set out afoot. the air was misty, full of a fine drizzling rain. it was regular scotch and english weather, but the atmosphere was cooler and not so heavy as in britain. the little stone-and-brick-built town is clean and neat, with its main street well asphalted. it lies on a gentle slope of hillside which lifts from the water. a giant lighthouse, rising from the highest point of land, is the first object to meet the view. back of this, upon the level summit, lies the best of the town. the buildings are generally of one and two stories, with steep, gabled roofs. h, in her scottish "bonnet," and i, in my raincoat, were quite impervious to wetness, and we spent the morning strolling here and there, stopping to see, among other things, the tubs and tanks of fish in the market square, where fishwives in big, white caps, stood quite heedless of the rain. the fish were almost wholly the famous _roed spoette_ (red spots), one of the flounder family, much resembling the english sole. wanting cigars, i was tempted into a little shop, and found it kept by an intelligent young dane, who instantly confessed to me, in good united states, that he had lived in america and there done well. in fact, it was plain to see that his heart still beat for the great republic. his father had died and he had come back to denmark to care for his old mother, and then, he had fallen in love with the blue-eyed daughter of a citizen of esbjerg, an only child. so now, with several little danes added to his charge, he was fixed fast in esbjerg. but he was "always grieving for america," he said. he delighted to see us, and sent for his young wife, who came smiling in to us with her baby in her arms. h says he told his wife in danish, that we were americans just like all others she would see, if she should ever reach new york! so i bought a box of cigars from him, instead of one or two, and found them good smoking and well worth the very moderate cost. crossing the market square to a long, low building, which somehow had about it that indefinable air suggestive of a breakfast comfortably cooked, we came to an inn, in the low-ceilinged dining room of which were little tables set about upon the sanded floor. two or three men of the sea were smoking in one corner, a bar and a red-cheeked barmaid were in another, and two huge, yellow, great-dane dogs occupied most of the remaining space. we chose a table by the window and h ordered _roed spoette_, rolls and coffee. the fish was delicious, possessing a harder, sweeter flesh than the english sole; and rolls with salted butter rejoiced my palate, for i am dreadfully tired of english butter with no salt; and then we were given big brown pancakes with currant jelly, all we could eat. it was a breakfast fit for a viking. the bill was only three _kroner_ and twenty _oere_, which equals about eighty-six cents. at the railway station, a mile from the docks, our tickets, bought in london, gave us the best on the train, better than similar carriages in england, for here they are bigger, with larger windows and the cars are set on trucks. the journey to copenhagen was over and through a sandy, flat and slightly rolling country, more carefully tilled and more generally cultivated than in england, with more grain, wheat and rye; with more vegetables, turnips, carrots, cabbage and potatoes. there were cattle, herds of large red cows, for denmark is now the dairy of all europe. but i saw no steers, nor beef cattle, fattening for the market, and but few sheep; nor any hogs running afield--the last are probably kept up. the houses are set singly upon the farms, are surrounded by outbuildings, and are usually of one story and often big and rambling with ells and gables, and generally have thatched roofs. the barns are big and substantial. more people are here upon the land than in england, and not living in clustered villages, as in france; the fields are divided usually by hedges. there are sluggish waterways and canals, and ponds where fish are bred and raised for market; and almost every hilltop is capped with a dutch-looking windmill. the train moved deliberately. it made from twenty to twenty-five miles an hour, stopping a long time at each station. we hadn't gone far when a bald-pated, round-headed _herr_ climbed in and we speedily fell into talk with him. h speaks danish enough to get on, and i use my pocket dictionary, and pick up what i can. his name was hansen and he "owns" the "hotel kikkenborg," at "brammige," wherever that may be. he told us of the country we were passing through and helped me on the danish gutturals. you must gurgle the sounds down in your gullet as though you were quite filled with water, and the more profound the depth from which the sound comes forth, the more perfect the speech. we lost him at the first change of cars, when we boarded an immense ferryboat to cross the strait of water called the little belt, which separates the main land from the large island of funen, but we found ourselves again in kindly company, this time, with a gray-bearded man and two ladies, his wife and daughter. he was "inspector of edifices" for the government. they had been spending a few weeks on the island of fanoe at nordby, a fashionable seaside resort much patronized by the gentry of copenhagen. he talked with me in fluent german, and the ladies conversed readily in french, while all spoke with h in _dansk_ and so we got on, fell fast friends and were introduced to a beau of the froeken, a young "doctor" who had "just taken his degree." we sat together while crossing the island of funen and on the ferryboat top all through the long sail across the big belt which divides funen from the island of zealand. our friends here pointed out to us where it was that charles x of sweden, and his army of foot and horse and guns made their dare-devil passage on the ice that night in january, , crossing the little and big belts to zealand and copenhagen, forcing the beaten danes by the peace of roskilde to cede the great provinces of skaania, halland and bleking, which made sweden forever henceforth a formidable european state,--"god's work," the swedes declared, for these salty waters were never before frozen solid enough to bear an army's weight,--nor have they been since. we parted only at the journey's end. our friends were pleasant people of the aristocratic office-holding class, content to live simply on the modest stipend the government may grant, who neither speak nor read english, and who listened to the tales of bigness in america with doubting wonder. "a building twenty stories high!" "impossible!" "eighty millions of people!" "incredible!" "america already holds four hundred thousand danes--one-fifth of the danish race." "ja! alas! that is too true!" "our young men are never satisfied to come back to stay when once they have lived in america!" "our young men don't return, it's hard upon our girls." [illustration: my instructor in danish.] our new found friends, when we lunched upon the big ferryboat, introduced us to that very danish dish called _smoer broed_, thickly buttered rye bread overlaid with raw herring or smoked goose breast, a viking dainty--a salty appetizer well calculated to make the norseman quaff from his flagon with more than usual vim, and to drive an american in hurried search of plain water! these salty snacks of cold bread and cold fish are as eagerly devoured and enjoyed by the scandinavian as are the peppery, stinging eatables for which every mexican palate yearns. it was dusk when we arrived in the large and commodious main station at copenhagen. the suburbs of the city were hidden from us by the gathering darkness, and the electric lights were glowing when we left the train. we missed general and mrs. c at the station, so great was the crowd, but found them when we came to our hotel, the dagmar, they having themselves missed us and followed on our track. [illustration: our danish friends.] there are many good hotels in copenhagen and this is among the larger and more popular stopping places of the danes themselves. it is built along the clean vestre boulevard, with umbrageous trees in front of it, and possesses that rare thing, an elevator. in the dining room we sit at little tables, and find the cooking much superior to what one generally meets in england. it is more after the french sort, the danes priding themselves greatly upon their soups and sauces. in our rooms, which look out upon the broad, paved boulevard, the furniture is old style mahogany, very substantial, and in the corner there is one of those immense porcelain stoves reaching to the ceiling, which is the general mode of heating large rooms in these scandinavian lands. copenhagen is a city of four hundred thousand people, one-quarter of the estimated population of denmark, and the city is growing steadily at the expense of the country,--increasing too fast for a land the population of which is as steadily growing less. english is said to be the fashionable foreign tongue in court circles, by reason of the british royal connection; but among the people the german speech is steadily and stealthily taking a foremost place, and this despite the fact that the danes dislike germany and view the germans with well-founded fear. you will talk to a dane but a few moments before he is pouring out his heart to you about the atrocious robbery of the splendid provinces of sleswik and holstein, of which bismarck despoiled the little kingdom nearly forty years ago. almost half of denmark was then lopped off at a single blow,--nor england nor russia interfering to save the danes,--and now they are ever in uneasy spirit lest germany encroach yet more upon them and ultimately devour them, land and sea. they feel she is incessantly creeping on to them with all the cunning of a hungry cat. [illustration: the krystal gade and round tower, copenhagen.] iii. copenhagen, a quaint and ancient city. kjoebenhavn, dannmark, (copenhagen, denmark), _august , _. the copenhagener declares that his beloved "kjoebenhavn" is not really an ancient city, although he admits it has been in active business since the middle of the tenth century, nearly one thousand years. my danish friends assert that it is my "yankee eye," which is so new, and prove the modernity of their town by telling me how many times it has been bombarded, how often sacked and razed, how frequently burned up; and yet, despite their facts, i still make bold to say the city bears the markings of an ancient town. long, long ago, even before the time of king gorm the old, here were markets by the water's side, where the fisherman brought his catch, the peasant fetched his eggs and milk and cheese and what the soil might yield, where the itinerant merchant came to show and trade his wares. these handy markets by the sea were at first moved constantly about; by and by they came to be held, year after year, in the self-same spot; the temporary clustered settlement became a lasting town. as the centuries rolled on these market hamlets expanded into a single commercial rendezvous for all the northern world. thus copenhagen won her name (_kopman-haven_--merchant port) and grew until her commerce made her the heir to the trade and traffic of the hanseatic league, and she was recognized as supreme mistress of the commerce of the north by london and bremen, brussels and bordeaux, as well as by the merchant fleets of venice and the levant. those were the days when her kings and hardy seamen would as lief drink and fight and die as eat and live; their very recklessness made them masters of the north; they even annexed the mighty norseman, and made norway a danish province; they hammered and held in check their doughty cousins, the swedes; they brought beneath their sway the provinces of skaania, of halland and of bleking, the southern portion of what is now known as sweden; they dominated the cities along the shores of the north and baltic seas. copenhagen became, in fact as well as in name, the veritable capital of the north. in politics and in intrigue she played the master hand. she gathered to herself the arts and the sciences, the fashion and the elegance, of the north; and to-day, although warlike pride and power have fallen from her, although trade and commerce have lessened in her midst, yet the arts and the sciences, the culture and the elegance are still her own, and the fine old city claims to be as markedly as of yore the intellectual center of the scandinavian race. [illustration: the oestergade, copenhagen.] copenhagen is a flat-lying city; it has no hills in it, while there are many canals and watery lanes which wind through it and lead to the sea, or as the danes would say the _sund_ (sound),--that narrow strait which links the baltic to the kattegat, where denmark and sweden appear once to have split apart. the buildings are generally of brick, sometimes of stone, never of wood; they are large and substantial, often four and five stories high, with gabled roofs, sharp and steep, covered with tiles. in the older parts of the city, the streets are narrow, and twist and turn and change their names even more often than the rues of paris. in the newer section, toward the north and northwest, there are long straight boulevards and straight cross streets, and the inevitable air of modern monotony. the feeling and impression which stole over me the first morning i strolled about the city became almost one of sadness. the wistful, pensive faces of the people; their unobtrusive politeness; the inconsequential traffic of drays and carts along the quiet streets; canals and quays half empty where there should have been big packs of boats; absence everywhere of bustle and ado,--all these were almost pathetic. it might have been a puritan sabbath, so silent stood the big stone docks and piers among the lapping waters. there was none of the ponderous movement of london, none of the liveliness of paris, nor the busy-ness of hamburg, of bremen, of amsterdam, of rotterdam and antwerp, although once copenhagen was peer of any one. the bales of goods, the tons of merchandise which once filled her lofts and cellars are no longer there. the commerce which once made the city rich and gave her power has ebbed away. she is far fallen into commercial and industrial decay. the causes which have wrought this collapse of the once great city are, perhaps, difficult to analyze. at least, those danes with whom i have talked upon the matter are not at all agreed. nor are they united upon the solution of the problem of restoring the city to the proud place she once held as metropolis of the northern world. some tell me that after the demise of the present king, and the passing of sweden's ruler to the halls of valhalla, then will it be possible for the scandinavian peoples to come together in one permanent federation, or federal pact, where the norwegian-democratic spirit shall instil new energy into the now moribund political body of the sister states, and that then copenhagen will be the natural capital of this free and potent scandinavian state, and then will come to her the splendor and dignity justly her due. others declare, and declare with a flash of terror in their eyes, that the only hope for copenhagen, the only hope for the pitiful remnant of the once proud kingdom of denmark, is to be wholly devoured by the hohenzollern ogre, to be by him chewed fine, gulped down, digested and assimilated as part of the flesh and blood of the waxing german empire. then will copenhagen become the chief seaport of the german hinterlands to the south, then will the importance of bremen and hamburg and kiel be expanded into the new vigor that will have come to copenhagen. they point to the inevitableness of this destiny as evidenced by the subtle, silent, incessant encroachment of the german tongue among the people of the city as well as throughout the land, and by the continuous invasion and settlement of the city and country by men and women of german breed. they say the imperial monster grips them in a clutch whence there is no escape. [illustration: the royal theatre, copenhagen.] whatever the future may have in store for stricken denmark and copenhagen, it is clear enough to the apprehension of the friendly stranger that the noble city is ailing and benumbed. she stagnates, and only revolution and rebirth into a greater scandinavian state, or germanic conquest and absorption, will restore her to her former place. it is natural for an american to hope for denmark and her people a rehabilitation through the uplifting influence of a scandinavian republic. there are fine shops in copenhagen; behind the unpretentious fronts along the oestergade, the amagertorv, the vimmelskaft and nygade and neighboring streets is stored great wealth of fabrics and of merchandise. here we saw the notably handsome pottery and artistic porcelain ware for which copenhagen is already famous beyond the sea; and h and her mother have delightedly bought several charming pieces of the latter and ordered them sent forward to new york. they have also quite lost their hearts, and certainly their _kroners_, over the exquisite gold and silver and enamel work manufactured here, while they declare the laces and drawn work--particularly what is called _hedebo_--excels anything of the kind they have discovered in london. the dane is a poet, a dreamer, an artist; he is also a patient artisan, and what he produces ranks among the world's best work. passing along the narrow sidewalks you would never suspect what is stored behind the plain exteriors, for the dane has not yet learned the art of window display, nor has he acquired the skill of so showing his goods that the buyer is caught at a single glance. if you would purchase, you must have already determined what you want, and then, upon asking for it, will be given liberal choice. the shops are mostly small, each seller dealing in a single ware. only one dane, a wide-awake newcomer from chicago, has dared to introduce the complex methods of "department" trade. he has opened an immense establishment called the magazin du nord, where thus far is done a rushing business. but the conservative merchants of copenhagen have not yet become so well assured of the success of this innovation that they are willing to follow the example set. [illustration: the exchange, copenhagen.] in company with the ladies i have been out all the afternoon along these narrow streets--streets where the narrow sidewalks are altogether insufficient to accommodate the passing crowds, which consequently fill up the middle of the way--and we find the _frus_ and _froekens_ of copenhagen apparently as much devoted to what is called "shopping" as our own fair dames at home. buxom and yellow-haired and rosy-cheeked, they throng the streets each afternoon. they are comely to look upon, and carry themselves with more graceful carriage than do the women of england. they walk deliberately, with none of the nervous scurry of their transatlantic sisters. indeed, it is hinted to me, they have not come out so much to buy as to meet some friend or neighbor, and exchange a bit of news or gossip in one of the numerous and cozy cafes where is sold _conditterie_:--candies and chocolates and coffee and little cakes. next to _conditterie_, the copenhagener is fondest of his books and the town abounds in bookshops, big and little. every dane reads and writes his native tongue, and among the educated, english and french and german are generally understood. in the book stores i visited i was always addressed in english, and found french, german and english and even american books upon the shelves; and more newspapers and magazines are published in copenhagen, a danish friend declares, than in any other city in europe of its size. the danes have, too, a widely established system of free circulating libraries and book clubs, which extend throughout the countryside of zealand and funen and jutland, as well as in the towns, while copenhagen is supplied also from the extensive collections of the university and royal libraries. the public schools and the university we did not see, for the season was the vacation interval, and the teachers, professors and students were all dispersed. but the schools and university of copenhagen are modernly equipped. the dane is intelligent above all else, and he has always paid great heed to the adequate education of his race. indeed, copenhagen was the first city in europe to establish real public schools, opening them in every parish more than three hundred years ago. there are many _torvs_ about the city, market-places where all sorts of things have once been sold, but which are now become wide-open public squares. the old word _torv_ has already lost its ancient meaning, even as has the word _circus_, which in london first sounds so strange to american ears. but while the gammelstorv, the nytorv, the kongen's nytorv and many others are now degenerated into these mere open breathing spaces between the big buildings of the town, there are yet _torvs_ where fish, and flowers, meats and vegetables, and things else are offered for sale. the most attractive of them all to me were those where are sold the flowers and the fish. in the amagertorv were heaps of pale and puny roses, and diminutive asters and chrysanthemums, along with splendid pansies--"stepmother flowers," as the danes call them--and luxuriant piles of mignonette, and big baskets of pinks and phloxes; where rosy-cheeked women, in starched white caps, smilingly urged me to buy, and one _froeken_ with a wealth of yellow hair and cobalt-blue eyes, pinned on my coat a monstrous pansy for _boutonnière_. [illustration: the gammel strand, copenhagen.] among the fishwives of the gammel strand there was always lively stir, for their _fisk_ must early find a buyer, and by midday they themselves must be back to their nets and boats. these danish fishwives, moreover, have a burden of responsibility quite unknown to their english, german, dutch and french sisters. not merely must they sell the fish which the men turn over to their keeping, but they must also preserve it hearty and alive, else the dainty danish housewife will not buy. the fish are kept in large tubs and tanks filled with fresh sea water, where they swim about as keen and lively as they might do in the sea. the buyer scrutinizes the contents of these tubs with a fine and practiced eye; she picks out the fish which swims and splashes to her mind; has it lifted out alive, and carries it home in a bucket of water which she has brought to the market for that purpose. a fish which is dead, a fish which has died of strangulation in the air, is looked upon with horror and rejected as unfit for food by all right-acting danish stomachs. no dead fish, preserved from becoming stale through the use of chemicals, ever enters a danish kitchen. is it any wonder then, that the buxom red-cheeked women and sturdy men of these seafaring lands prefer a square meal of sweet fresh fish to any other! sauntering along the strand i espied the cod and mackerel and herring under names i did not know, and everywhere foremost among them all the now familiar _roed spoette_, the danish epicure's delight. the streets of london are choked with moving vehicles, or those drawn up in line awaiting fares. in copenhagen one is struck at once by the absence of the equipages of the rich, the very limited number of cabs anywhere about, as well as the small number of heavy drays, even upon the wholesale business streets. one might almost say that the streets would seem deserted if it were not for the pigeons and the dogs. there must be many dove-cotes in copenhagen and the birds certainly have hosts of friends. but the dog, the unabashed and capricious dog, is the real king of denmark's capital. after seeing him in holland and in france, where his dogship is a faithful co-worker with man, toiling all the long day and longer year to eke out the income of his master, one almost envies the lot of the dogs of copenhagen. these beasts abound throughout the city; neither tag nor muzzle adorns them, nor do owners seemingly claim them, but from puppyhood to gaunt old age they lead a boisterous and vagabond life, to the terror of small children and their nurses, and the well-gowned women who may chance to cross their trail. whether they survive through performing the office of scavenger, as do the dogs of constantinople, i have never been informed, but whatever the cause, the curs of copenhagen take as full possession of that town as do the tame vultures of vera cruz. we visited, of course, the many objects of interest the tourist is expected to see; we studied the splendid collection of the masterpieces of thorvaldsen, housed in the stately building where also is set his tomb; we looked at the collection of ethnological relics, one of the most notable in the world; we lingered in the old castle of charlottenborg, and the new art galleries where are gathered many of the master paintings of which the danish capital is so proud; we admired the great round tower, up the spiral causeway of which a squadron of dragoons may ride to the very top, and peter the great ascended on horseback; we duly marveled at the much bepraised fredriks kirke, a marble edifice, smothered beneath a ponderous and ornate dome; and h and i spent a delightful hour in the noble vor frue kirke, where her grandmother was wedded some sixty years ago; the banks and the bourse, the imposing new hotel de ville--the finest modern building in denmark--the legislative palace, christiansborg and rosenborg and amalienborg and fredriksberg. we saw what of them the public is allowed to see; we also drove and strolled upon the fine wide lange linie boulevard along the water side, shaded by ancient and umbrageous lindens, whence may be viewed the inner and outer harbors and free port and the spacious, new and half empty docks, and much of the shipping, and where of a pleasant afternoon the fashion and beauty of the city are wont to ride and drive. we joined in with the multitude upon the long, straight fredriksberggade, where the life and movement of the city may be watched and studied, even as upon new orleans' canal street and new york's broadway; and we did all else that well instructed americans are taught to do. but after all, these are the things that baedeker and the guide books tell about. to me it is ever of higher interest to learn from the people themselves by word and touch what my own senses aid me to see and hear, and so it was only when i met some of my wife's danish kin, and a broad and burly berserker clasped me in his arms and implanted a smacking kiss upon either cheek, ere i knew him to be of her relations,--that i felt my acquaintance begun with the most polished and elegant branch of the scandinavian race. other parts of nights and days we spent with friends in the lovely tivoli gardens, where all the copenhagen world, high and low, rich and poor alike, are wont to meet in simple and democratic assemblage, equally bent upon having a good time. "have you seen tivoli?" is ever almost the first question a copenhagener will put. there we watched the famous pantomime in the little open booth beneath the stars, a sort of punch and judy show; there we entered the great music hall where the royal band plays, and the crowded audiences of music-loving danes always applaud; there we drank the danish beer which is admitted to be the best on earth--so a danish neighbor whispered in my ear. tivoli is the copenhagener's elysium. when he is blue he gets himself to tivoli; when he feels gay he travels to tivoli; alone or in company he goes to tivoli, and he goes there as often as time will permit, which is usually every night. [illustration: along the quays, copenhagen.] a most difficult problem for copenhagen has been that of draining and sewering the city. it lies so low, almost at the dead level of the sea, and the tides of these baltic waters are so insignificant--ten to twelve inches only--that for many centuries copenhagen has been a most unhealthy city, infected by cesspools, tainted by blind drains, and defiled by accumulated poisons, until its death rate was higher than that of any other city in europe. but at last the problem is solved. forced water and giant suction pumps wash and drain out the elaborate system of pipes, and spill the death-laden wastage at a distant point into the sea, and with this transformation copenhagen has become a measurably healthy city. perhaps it is this century-long fight with death, plague and epidemic knocking continually at her doors, which has endowed copenhagen with so many fine hospitals and public charities for the care of the sick,--few cities in europe are so elaborately provided. hand in hand with the hospitals are also institutions for caring for the destitute and very poor. denmark has never followed england's pauper-creating system, but the beggar on the street is promptly put in jail, while the deserving poor is given a kindly and helping hand. one of the most charming spectacles of the city is its extensive public gardens, where the ancient defenses are converted into parks, and the moats are transformed into ponds and little lakes where swans and geese are kept, and boys sail toy boats. the landward side of the city is thus almost encircled with these pleasure grounds. one morning we were crossing one of these gardens, the lovely oersteds park, when i caught a pretty picture with my kodak, a little two-years-old tot learning to make her first courtesy to a little boy of four or five. she dropped and ducked and bent her little body with all the grace of a duchess of the court. denmark is about the size of three-fifths of west virginia, comprises fifteen thousand square miles and contains less than two millions of people,--about sixteen hundred thousand. she possesses no deposits of coal or iron, no forests of valuable timber; she has few manufactures. her people are farmers making a pinched living off the land, raising lean crops and selling butter and cheese, or they are crowded--one-fourth of them,--into the city of copenhagen, or they are gaining a hardy livelihood upon the sea. and yet this diminutive kingdom puts up $ , a year for the keeping of the king, and also provides him and his family, tax free, with palaces and castles, and estates whereon to fish and hunt and play. [illustration: an ancient moat, now the lovely oersteds park.] to an american mind it is amazing that a competent people will accept and suffer burdens such as these. in the great state of new york, with its seven millions of people, with wealth of coal and iron, with immense primeval forests, with cities whose commerce expands with a swiftness almost incredible, the governor is paid $ , a year, and allowed a single mansion wherein to dwell. massachusetts, vermont and michigan, and many other commonwealths, pay their governors but $ , per year, without a mansion for their residence. the mighty republic of the united states itself, with a continent for domain, and eighty millions of people, pays its president $ , per year, and gives him the use of the white house for his home. therefore, do you wonder, as i stroll about this fine old city, and look into the unhopeful, wistful faces of its plainly clad, not over-rich nor over-busy people, that i begin to comprehend why copenhagen holds the highest record for suicides of any city in the world, and why so many of her vigorous, and alert and capable, young men continually forsake their native land for the greater opportunities and freer political and industrial atmosphere of the united states? the dane always gets on if you give him half a chance. he is called the "frenchman of the north." graceful and supple in his manners, with a mouthful of courtesies of speech, he is naturally a social diplomat. the blunt norwegian calls him a fop. the martial swede sneers at his want of fight. but the dane has always held his own, and as a financier, a diplomat and man-of-the-world able to make the best out of the situation he may be in, he still gives proof of possessing his full share of the scandinavian brain. [illustration: a vista of the sund.] iv. elsinore and kronborg--an evening dinner party. helsinoere, dannmark, _august , _. we left copenhagen friday evening, about four o'clock, from the nordbane station. we were in plenty of time. nobody hurries in denmark. the train of carriages, with their side doors wide open, stood on the track ready to start. prospective passengers and their friends moved about chatting, or saying good-bye. it was a local train to elsinore, where it would connect with the ferry across the _sund_ to helsingborg and there with the through express to stockholm and kristiania, a night's ride. we would go to elsinore, and there spend the night, and go on by daylight in the morning. a good many acquaintances had come down to see us off, just for the sake of friendliness. i had kissed all the rosy-cheeked _froekens_ and been kissed by the _frus_, having dexterously escaped the embraces of the men, when there loomed large before me an immense dane, near six feet high and proportionate in girth, brown-bearded and blue-eyed, holding an enormous bouquet in either hand, an american flag waving from the midst of each. he made straight for me, folded me up among the flowers and kissed me joyfully on either cheek, and all before i really knew just what had taken place; then he doffed his hat, and bowing profoundly, presented first to me and then to h one of the bouquets with which he was loaded. and these bouquets were tied up with great white ribbons! of course, we were evidently but newly wed. we suddenly became of interest to the entire company. nor was there escape, for general c is well known and popular in copenhagen. others now came up and were introduced, and h and i held a _levée_ right then and there, and of kisses and embraces i made no count. the ride was along the _sund_, that lovely stretch of salt water, only a few miles wide, which joins the baltic sea and the atlantic. it is more like the hudson river below west point than anything i know, except that the shores are low and more generally wooded to the water's edge. or, perhaps i should say that it is another and narrower long island sound, as you see it a few miles out from jamaica bay. the busy waters were alive with a multitudinous traffic from russia and germany and sweden and denmark itself, and the fishing vessels that abound along these coasts. here and there villas and fine country houses peeped out among the trees. the _sund_ is the joy of the dane. he loves it, and the stranger who looks upon it does not forget it. one then understands why the danish poets have sung so loudly of it. [illustration: elsinore.] our way lay through much cultivated land, market gardens sending their produce to copenhagen, dairy farms where is made some of that famous danish butter every londoner prefers to buy, and which is sold all around the world. here and there we passed a little town, always with its sharp-steepled lutheran church and dominie's snug manse along its side. the church, the lutheran church in denmark, is no trifling power. it is as bigoted and well entrenched as is the roman hierarchy in mexico and spain. we should have liked to be wedded in the vor frue kirke, where the dear old grandmother had been married. but it is a lutheran church, and we were dissenters, and without the pale. nor could we present the necessary proof. we had no papers to show we had been duly born. nor had we legal documents to prove that our parents were our very own. nor could we show papers in proof that we had been christened and were legally entitled to our names, nor that we had been regularly confirmed. without these documents, sealed and authenticated by the state, and in our case also by the united states, no lutheran pastor would have dared to try and make us one. so we ran the gauntlet of less stringent english law, in itself quite bad enough, and lost the experience of the quaint danish ceremonial in the noble church. at the fine big government station in helsinoere (elsinore)--for the government owns and runs the railroads in denmark, just as it does in germany and much of france--we were met by an aunt and uncle and cousin of h's. they were a charming old couple, and the son was a young naval engineer (shipbuilder), working in the ship yard at helsinoere. all have lived in america and speak our tongue. we were to dine with them and spend the evening, when general and mrs. c would go home on the last train at p. m. i left the ladies together, while d and i strolled over to the ancient, yet formidable, fortress of kronborg, which for centuries has commanded the gateway to the baltic. built of norwegian granite, when erected it was believed to be impregnable. its casemates, lofty walls, turrets and towers frowned threateningly across the three-mile strait to helsingborg in sweden, and no boat sailed past except it first paid the dues. to-day, these walls of rock, these ramparts in the air, no longer terrify the mariner. _sund_ taxes are no longer levied! the ancient fortress does little else than fire an occasional salute. but the danes still love and honor it, and a few soldiers are stationed in it, a solitary guard. a vista of the _sund_ i tried to kodak from the top of the great tower, and i bribed a soldier for a dime to let me take his manly form, although a camera is forbidden within the precincts of this place of war. but kronborg is famous for other things than mere danish tolls and wars. kronborg it is, where hamlet's shade still nightly wanders along the desolate ramparts. there it is that the danish prince beheld his father's ghost. there he kept watch at night with horatio and marcellus. and close by in the park of marienlyst castle is hamlet's grave. we did not see it, but many pilgrims do. [illustration: the sund from kronborg's ramparts.] then we descended into the deep dungeons, or part of them, and a pretty, rosy-cheeked, blue-eyed danish lass told us tales of holger danske, who lives down in the deepest pits, whose long white beard is fast grown to the table before which he sits, and who is to come forth some day and by his might restore to the danish race its former great position on the earth; and she told us also of the human tragedies which have in past ages been enacted in these keeps. she spoke in soft, lisping, musical danish, the only sweet danish i have heard; for the copenhagen speech is jerky, the consonants are chopped short, and the vowels are deep gurgled in the throat, difficult for foreign ears to comprehend. after seeing the fortress, we visited an ancient monastery, suppressed when the roman church was driven from these northern lutheran lands, and now become an old ladies' home--shocking transformation in the contemplation of those monkish shades which may yet roam the forsaken cloisters!--of which institution the old uncle is now superintendent with government pension for life! and then we came to the cozy home where the ladies were already met. we entered a narrow doorway, a sort of interior storm door, and turned to the right into a comfortable sitting room, beyond which was the dining room, with the table set. the aunt is a gentle, round-faced, rosy-cheeked little woman, in a white lace cap and the prettiest of manners. with her was an old spinster friend, _froeken_----, a slim, wizen-faced dame of sixty, in brown stuff dress, with tight sleeves and close fitting waist, and old lace at the throat, fastened by a big mediaeval-looking gold brooch, and with a gold chain about her neck. she possessed very small, bright black eyes, and lips that stuck straight out. she courtesied,--dropped down straight about ten inches and came up quick, a sort of bob--smiled, and said in danish, "she was rejoiced to meet h's '_mand_.'" all were very friendly, and h to have caught a _mand_, sure enough, was treated with distinction. the table was set for eight; there was beer in glass decanters, cold fried fish, cold smoked goose breast, cold smoked salmon (raw), cold sardines, cold calveshead jelly, cold beef loaf, cold bread, black bread, rye bread, cold rolls (hard and shiny with caraway seeds in them), gooseberry jelly, spiced currants, and also tea, this latter piping hot. at each place was set a pile of salted butter (at least a pound) on a little dish. i sat next "_tante_," with _froeken_--across the table from me, her black eyes boring me through with steady gleam. you take your fish up by the tail and eat him as you would a piece of bread. "butter him thick, yes, thick," "_tante_" said to me. i laid on about half an inch, she did, they all did. it was delicious butter and that fish went down wonderfully slick. the goose breast was good, but i discerned it to have been a gander. the raw herring i did not find so attractive as the goose. there were also several sorts of cheese, of which every one ate much. you put a heavy layer of butter on your bread, then a layer of thin cut cheese, then a layer of herring or sardine or salmon, and eat it fast. there was no hot food, there never is. the rule is to stow away cold fish, butter and cheese, and wash it down with the strong brown beer. the sweets are then taken to top off with. pickles and preserves together--just like the germans. (i have not yet run into the sour foods in which the german stomach delights.) having begun with a mild cheese, you gradually ascend to the strongest with the final sweets. h says the meal was only "supper," not dinner, but i confess i am so mixed on these scandinavian meals, that i cannot yet tell the difference. at breakfast, the danes take only a cup of coffee and a roll, the spanish _desayuno_; not even an egg, nor english jam. about one or two o'clock in the day, they dine, having soups, meats (roast or boiled), fish (fresh and salt), vegetables and beer. at night, it is about as i have told you, and they often dare to add a little more cold fish and cheese before they finally retire. the soups at dinner are very good; and the meats are better cooked than at a british table, on which, after a while, all meats begin to taste alike, and you grow tired to death of the eternal boiled potatoes, and boiled peas steeped in mint. i have had very nice cauliflower at danish tables, and the lettuce of their salads is delicate and crisp, while the coffee of the danes, like that of the dutch, is better than you will find in either england, germany or france; it seems to be the real thing, with neither chicory nor hidden beans. the danes are skilful cooks, although their palates seem to be fondest of cold victuals and raw smoked fish. [illustration: fishing boats, elsinore.] we stayed the night in a comfortable inn, close by the water side, an ancient ale house where sailors used to congregate in the halcyon days when all passing ships must lay-to at helsinoere to pay the tolls then levied by the king, hard by where now the fishing boats tie up. there were many of these and one in particular was continually surrounded by an excited crowd. it had just arrived loaded down to the decks with a catch of herring. the fishermen had had the luck to run into one of those rare and extraordinary schools of herring which are sometimes chased into the protecting waters of the sound by a whale or other voracious enemy outside. the nets had been let quickly down and millions of fish as quickly drawn up. the boat had been filled to sinking, and word flagged to brothers of the craft to hasten up and partake of the abounding catch. twenty thousand dollars' worth of herring had been caught within a few hours by the fishermen of helsinoere alone, to say nothing of what were taken by the crews of other fishing boats along the coast. the entire population of the little town is now busy cleaning and salting fish, fish that will feed them well and keep them easy in stomach until the winter shall be past and the spring be come again. women were selling fish along the streets, boys were peddling fish, how many for a cent i do not know, and men were giving fish, gratis, to whosoever would carry them away. these extraordinary catches do not often happen. no such luck had befallen helsinoere for many a day. it may be years before it again occurs. the fisherman of these northern waters sails forth upon his cruise each day inflamed with very much the same spirit of adventurous quest as in america are we who, living upon the land, drill wells for oil or dig for gold. helsinoere is rich to-night, and the herring is her king. [illustration: a snap shot for a dime, kronborg.] v. across the sund to sweden and incidents of travel to kristiania. kristiania, mission hotel, pilestradiet (alfheim), _august , _. _hilsen fra kristiania!_ our ancient tavern, the sleibot, in elsinore, cared for us most comfortably. we were given a large room looking out over the waters of the _sund_, with wide small-paned casemented windows, and a great porcelain stove and giant wooden bedstead. for breakfast we had fresh herring, the fish which will now form the chief diet of helsinoere for many a month, and more of the good danish coffee. the bill for lodging and breakfast was seven _kroner_ (about $ . ) for us two. the dear old couple were on hand to see us off, and waved _farvel_ as we boarded the immense ferryboat which takes on, if needful, an entire train, but usually only the baggage cars, for through travel to swedish and norwegian points. the boats are long and wide and strong, and smash their way through the floes of drifting ice the winter through, for this outlet of the baltic is rarely frozen solid for any length of time. the four-miles passage is made in twenty minutes, and after we got under way, it was not long before even massive kronborg faded upon the view, and we were making fast to the pier at helsingborg, in sweden. [illustration: kronborg.] in england, owing to the smallness of the tunnels and the present cost of enlarging them, the railway management is compelled to keep to the ancient diminutive style of carriage first introduced sixty years ago. but here, in these northern lands, where railway building is of more recent date, although the gauge is the same as in britain, the carriages are half as large again, and are many of them almost as long as our american cars, so that the riding in them is much easier than there. and in norway i have already seen cars which, except for being shorter, were exactly like our own. we traveled first along the sea, then through a flat country. there were scores of sails upon the kattegat, a multitude of ships and barques and brigs, schooners and sloops, and small fishing smacks, and larger fishing luggers going far out upon the north sea. there were also many black hulks in tow of big tugs carrying coal to the baltic cities, and steamers bound for english and german ports and even for america. the waters were alive with the busy traffic. we passed wide meadows and much grass land. cows were feeding upon these fields, red cows mostly, with herders to watch over them. the cows were tethered each to a separate iron pin sunk in the ground, all in a single row; and thus they eat their way across an entire meadow,--an animated mowing machine. now and then we returned to the shore of the sea, passing some fishing village nestled along the rocks, or we rolled through forests of small birches, pines and spruce. in the same compartment with ourselves sat a couple of young germans. they were much interested in each other. i noticed that the lady's rings were most of them shining new, and one, a large plain gold ring, was in look particularly recent and refulgent. h came to the same conclusion also at about the very same moment. the two were surely a bridal pair. and they talked german, and looked out across us through the wide windows as though we were never there. so i spoke to my wife in good united states, and we agreed that these two were newly wed. and then the bride's noble face and fine brown eyes appealed to me, and i declared her to be the loveliest woman i had yet seen this side the sea. the while she and her _mann_ still conversed in low, soft german. but it now seemed to me that they looked out across us with a kindlier feeling in their eyes and, in a surreptitious way, the german beauty was peeping at the fine large diamond on h's left hand (the wedding ring she had already succeeded in making look dull and old). at goteborg (gothenburg) our train drew up for half an hour's wait. here that portion of it going to stockholm would be cut loose from our own, and another engine would take us to the north. along with most of the other passengers the young german and i also got out, leaving the two ladies in the car. at the counter of the big lunch room i watched the ever hungry norsemen stowing away cold fish and cheese, and was in somewhat of a dilemma what to take, when the german husband of the lovely bride came up to me in a most friendly way, and suggested that i would enjoy a certain sort of fish and thin brown cake, which seemed to be one of the popular objects of attack by the voracious multitude. and he spoke to me in perfect english of the educated sort. he had evidently quite understood my flattering comments upon his bride, and was now my fast friend. i did not show surprise, but took his hint, and afterward we strolled up and down the platform, munching our snack, while he told me that he was a "barrister from cologne." "yes, on his wedding trip." he had "learned english in the german schools," he said, and had "never been in england or america." his wife, he admitted, "could not speak english," but "could read it and understand it when others talked!" he told me of the german courts, and of his long years of study before he was admitted to the bar. when they left us a few miles further on, for their way lay up through the lakes and forests of sweden, we parted as old friends, and they promised to visit us if ever they should come across the sea; our unsuspecting admiration had won their hearts! [illustration: karl johans gade, kristiania.] about p. m., we dined at the small station of ed, our first example of swedish railway dinner-serving on an elaborate scale. the train was a long one. there were many passengers. the fish and cheese consumed at gothenburg was long since shaken down. we were genuinely hungry. but when the train came to a stop there was no rush to the restaurant, nor attempt of every man to get ahead of the one in front of him. the passengers took their leisure to get out, and walked deliberately toward the big eating room. the food was set upon a long central table. there were hot soups, hot boiled fowl, hot meats, an abundance of victuals, cold and salt. there were piles of plates, of napkins and of knives and forks. everyone helped himself, and ate standing or carried his food to a little table and sat at ease. this latter plan we followed. rule: eat all you will, drink as much beer as you desire, take your own time, the train will wait, and when you are quite satisfied pay a single _kroner_ (twenty-seven cents). there is no watching to see how much you may consume. you eat your fill, you pay the modest charge, you go your deliberate way. however slow you may be the train will wait! we now traversed a barren country of marshy flats; with skimp timber, chiefly small birch and spruce. toward dusk it was raining hard. the long twilight had fairly begun when we crossed the swedish border and a few miles beyond stopped at fredrikshald, where is a famous fortress against the swedes, besieging which, king charles xii was killed. here a customs' officer walked rapidly through the car, asked a few questions and passed us on. our trunks had been marked "through" from helsinoere, so we had no care for them until we should arrive in kristiania. but that there should be still maintained a customs' line between the sister kingdoms of norway and sweden, which are ruled by a common king, may perhaps surprise the stranger unacquainted with the peculiar and somewhat strained relations ever existing between these kindred peoples. [illustration: vegetable market, kristiania.] for many hundreds of years (since ) norway had been a province of denmark. her language and that of the dane had grown to be almost the same, the same when written and printed, and differing only when pronounced. but in , the selfish powers of the holy alliance handed over norway to the swedish crown as punishment to denmark for being napoleon's friend, and threatened to enforce their arbitrary act by war. so norway yielded to brute force, and accepted the sovereignty of napoleon's treacherous marshal bernadotte, the swedish king, but she yielded nothing more, and to this day has preserved and yet jealously maintains her own independent parliament, her own postal system, her own separate currency and her custom houses along the swedish line. and you never hear a norwegian speak of any other than of the "king of sweden." "he is not our king," they say, "we have none." "we are ruled by the king of sweden, but norway has no king." cunning russia, it is said, cleverly spends many _rubles_ in order that this independent spirit shall be kept awake, and the war force of sweden thereby be so much weakened. russia might even to this day be able to nourish into war this ancient feud between the kindred breeds, if it were not that in her greed of power she has shown the cloven foot. the horror of her monstrous tyranny in finland already finds echo among the norwegian mountains. "we are getting together," a norwegian said to me. "we have got to get together, however jealous we may be of one another. we must, or else the russian bear will hug us to our death, even as now he is cracking the ribs of helpless finland." and when i suggested that little denmark should be taken within the pale, and a common scandinavian republic be revived in more than ancient force to face the world, he declared that already a movement toward this end was set afoot, and only needed a favorable opportunity to become a living fact. at p. m. we arrived at kristiania in a pouring rain, and at general c's recommendation, came to this curious and comfortable hotel. like many other hotels in norway, it is kept by women, and seems to be much patronized by substantial norwegians of the nicer sort. it is on the top floor of a tall building, and you pass up and down in a rapid modern elevator. it is kept as clean as a pin, and the beds we sleep in are the softest, freshest in mattress and linen we have seen this side the sea. we have also passed beyond the latitude of blankets and are come to the zone of eider down. coverlets, light, buoyant, and delightfully warm now keep us from the cold, and in our narrow bedsteads we sleep the slumber of contented innocence. we have a large well-furnished chamber, all for two _kroner_ per day (fifty-four cents). when we entered the long, light breakfast hall this morning, we saw a single table running the length of the room, a white cloth upon it, and ranged up and down, a multitude of cheeses big and little, cow cheese and goat cheese, and many sorts of cold meat, beef and pork and mutton, and cold fish and salt fish. and there were piles of cold sliced bread and english "biscuits" (crackers). the coffee, or milk if you wish it, is brought in, and in our case so are fresh soft-boiled eggs. a group of evidently english folk near us had a special pot of dundee marmalade. the norwegians take simply their coffee or milk, with cheese and cold fish and the cold bread. our breakfast cost us twenty cents apiece. [illustration: kristiania, a view of the city.] to-day the city is washed delightfully clean, the heavy rain of the night having cleared streets and atmosphere of every particle of dust and grime. we have driven all about in an open victoria. it is a splendid town, containing some two hundred thousand inhabitants. it lies chiefly upon a sloping hillside with a deep harbor at its feet. like copenhagen, it is the capital of its country, and the seat of the norwegian government, of the supreme law courts, and of the storthing or national congress or parliament. at the end of the wide karl johans gade stands the "palace of the swedish king," a sombre edifice, now rarely occupied. kristiania is also the literary and art center of the norse people. here ibsen lives, here bjoernstjoerne bjoernsen would live, if swedish intolerance did not drive him into france. the types of men and women we see upon the streets are the finest we have met since coming over sea. tall and well-built, light-haired and blue-eyed, the men carry themselves with great dignity. the women are, many of them, tall, their backs straight, not the curved english spine and stooping shoulders. all have good chins, alert and initiative. the norwegians are the pick of the scandinavian peoples. they are the sons and daughters of the old viking breeds which led the race. they are to-day giving our northwestern states a population able, fearless and progressive, no finer immigration coming to our shores. senators and governors of their stock are already making distinguished mark in american affairs. it was not long before we perceived that in kristiania, as in copenhagen, we were also very close to the great republic; except that, perhaps, here we discovered a keener sympathy with american feeling, a closer touch with the american spirit. those norwegians whom we have met speak good united states, not modern english. you hear none of the english sing-song flutter of the voice, none of its suppression of the full-sounded consonant, but the even, clear, precise accent and intonation of the well-taught american mouth. and our friends tell us that it is much easier for them to learn to speak the american tongue than to master the often extraordinary inflexion of spoken english as pronounced in britain. i am gaining a great respect for these scandinavian and norwegian peoples. they are among the finest of the races of the european world. [illustration: our norwegian train.] we have driven not merely through the beautiful city and its parks, and beheld the wide view to be had from the tower at its highest point, but we have also visited the ancient viking ship, many years ago discovered and dug out of the sands along the sea, a measured model of which was so boldly sailed across the atlantic, and floated on lake michigan, at chicago, in . at this time, however, we are but birds of passage in kristiania. we may not linger to become more intimately acquainted with the noble town; we are arranging for a ten days' journey by boat and carriage through the _fjords_ and mountain valleys, and region of the mighty snow-fields and glaciers of western norway. we must now go on, and postpone any intimate knowledge of the city until another day. h is quite ready for this trip. she wears a corduroy shirt waist of deep purple shade, and has brought with her one of those short, simply-cut walking-skirts, of heavy cloth. a natty toque sets off her head. she is fitly clad. and my eyes are not the only ones that note this fact, as i observed to-day when, to avoid a shower, we sought shelter under the pillared portico of the storthing's fine edifice in the central square. as we stood there, waiting for the rain to cease, i noticed a small, fair-haired, quietly-dressed woman intently staring at the skirt. each hem and tuck and fold and crease and gore she studied with the steadfast eye of the connoisseur. and so absorbed did she become that she grew quite oblivious of our knowledge of her interest. around and around she circled, until at last we left her still taking mental notes. some other woman in kristiania, we are quite sure, will soon be wearing a duplicate of this well made costume from new york. [illustration: along the etna elv.] [illustration: hailing our steamer, the rand fjord.] vi. a day upon the rand fjord and along the etna elv--to frydenlund--ole mon our driver. frydenlund, norge, _september , _. we left kristiania about seven o'clock this morning and drove six kilometers to grefsen, a suburb where the new railway comes in, which will ultimately connect the capital with bergen on the west coast. grefsen is up on the hills back of the city. the cars of the train we traveled in were long like our own and also set on trucks, the compartments being commodious, like the one we rode in from helsingborg. we traversed a country of spruce forests, rapid streams, small lakes and green valleys; with red-roofed farmsteads, cattle, sheep and horses in the meadows, and yellowing fields of oats and rye, just now being reaped; where men were driving the machines and women raking the fallen grain, all a beautiful, fertile, well-populated land with big men, big women, rosy and well set up, usually yellow-haired and blue-eyed. about ten o'clock we arrived at roikenvik, on the rand fjord, a sheet of dark blue water about two miles wide and thirty or forty long, with high, fir-clad mountains on either hand; with green slopes dotted with farm buildings, and occasional hamlets where stopped our tiny steamboat, the oscar ii. this _fjord_ is more beautiful than a scottish _loch_, for here the mountains are heavily timbered with fir to their very summits, while the hills of scotland are bare and bleak. we sat contentedly upon the upper deck inhaling the keen, fresh air, watching the picturesque panorama and noting the passengers crowded upon the forward deck below. they were chiefly farmers getting on and off, intelligent, self-respecting, well-appearing men, and full of good humor. one old gentleman with snowy whiskers, who resembled an ancient mariner, which i verily believe he was, seemed to hold the center of attention and many and loud were the shouts which his quaint jests brought forth. he evidently delivered a lecture upon my big american valise, pointing to it and explaining its excellent make, and his remarks were apparently to the credit of the owner, and of america whence it came. just before the bell summoned us to dinner in the after cabin, i noticed a skiff rowing toward us, one of the three men in it waving his hat eagerly to our captain, who immediately stopped the boat until they drew beside us, when two of them, clean-cut, rosy-faced, young six-footers, came up, hand over hand, on a rope which was lowered to them. they were born sailors, like all norwegians. i snapped my kodak as their skiff drew near us, and the first news the captain gave them was to apprise them of that fact. they appeared to be greatly flattered by the attention. they laughed and bowed and looked at me as much as to say, "how much we should like a copy of the photograph, if we knew enough english to ask for it," but they were too diffident to make the suggestion through their captain friend. [illustration: the old salt.] with the captain himself, i became well acquainted; an alert man of affairs, who had knocked about the world on norwegian ships and visited the greater ports of the united states. he gave me an interesting account of norse feeling at the time of the outbreak of the spanish war, saying to me, "i am from bergen. i am a sailor like the rest of our people, and with about a thousand more of my fellow countrymen i went over at that time to new york. i was boatswain on the warship--and i served through the spanish war. when we heard that there was likely to be trouble and got a hint that you wanted seamen, i gathered the men together and we went over and enlisted and others followed. yes, there were several thousands of us, altogether, on your american warships, ready to give up our lives for the great republic. next to norway, your great, free country, where already live half of the norwegian race, lies closest to our hearts. we were ready to give up our lives for the stars and stripes. when the war was over most of us came back again. in the summer time i am captain of this boat, in the winter seasons i go out upon the sea. if america ever needs us again we are ready to help her. we norwegians will fight for america whenever she calls." then he spoke of norway and the growing irritation of the norwegian people against the assumptions of sweden. "it is true that the swedes are our kin, but we have never liked them. the norwegians are democrats. we have manhood suffrage, and each man is equal before the law. in sweden, there is a nobility who are privileged, and while the swedish people submit to the aristocrats running the government over there, we norwegians will never permit them to run us. if it were not for fear of russia, we would fall apart, but the russian bear is hungry. if he dared he would eat us up. if it were not for england he would devour sweden now, and then there would be no hope for norway. the russian czar wants our harbors, our great _fjords_, as havens for his fleets, and he would like to fill his ships with norwegian seamen. so we fret and growl at sweden, but we can't afford really to have trouble with her any more than she can afford to fall out with us. we must stand together if we are to maintain our national independence, but nevertheless, we are full of fear for the future. i am apprehensive that the bear will some day satisfy his hunger. france will hold down germany, who just now claims to be our friend also. england will be bought off by russian promises in some other quarter of the world, and then, we shall be at the mercy of the czar. god help us when that day comes! those of us who can will fly to america, all except those who die upon these mountains. the russians may finally take norway, but it will then be a devastated and depeopled land. america is our foster mother. our young men go to her. we are always ready to fight for her!" [illustration: ole mon.] as i looked into his strong blue eyes, which gazed straight at me, i felt that the man meant everything he said, and was expressing not alone his personal sentiment, but also the feeling of the sturdy, seafaring people of whom he was so fit a type, and i wondered what the spaniard would have thought if he had known when he sent his fleets across the sea--fleets deserted by the scotch engineers who, in times of peace, had kept their engines clean--that the united states could call at need, not merely upon its own immense population, but might equally rely upon the greatest seafaring folk of all the world to fill her fighting ships. after three and a half hours' sail--about thirty miles--we came to the end of the _fjord_ at odnaes, where was awaiting us a true norwegian carriage, a sort of _landau_ or _trille_ with two bob-maned norwegian ponies, in curious harness with collar and hames thrusting high above the neck. we had dined on the boat; we had only a valise, a hand-bag and our sea-rugs. we were soon in the carriage and began our first day's drive, a journey of fifty-four kilometers (thirty-two miles), before night. our driver was presented to us as "ole mon;" and the english-speaking owner of the carriage informed us that ole ("olie") mon spoke fluently our tongue. he was a sturdily built, rosy-cheeked, blue-eyed man some forty years of age with a gray moustache and smooth, weather-beaten face. he drove these tourists' carriages in summer, he said; in the winter he took to the sea. we soon discovered his english to be limited to a few simple phrases, while when he ran to the end of his vocabulary he never hesitated to put in a fit norwegian word. he was proud of his acquaintance with the foreign tongue, and delighted to exercise his knowledge of it. his chief concern in life was to take care of the ponies. he continually talked to them as though they were his boys, and at any excuse for a stop, always had nosebags filled with oat meal ready to slip on and give them a lunch. the ponies are not over eight or ten hands high, but are powerfully muscled, and they are as sleek and tame as kittens. we believe that we have a treasure in ole mon, and i expect to learn much from him about the country we traverse, for he is glib to talk. the road was superb, the scenery magnificent. we followed a deep fertile valley, along a roaring river, the etna elv--recent rains having filled the streams brim full--with high fir-clad mountains rising sheer on either hand. we climbed gradually for quite twenty miles, meeting and passing many curious two-wheeled carts, drawn by a single horse, called _stolkjaerres_, in which the driver sits behind the passenger, and about four o'clock we halted at tomlevolden, a rambling farmstead where ole mon put the nosebags on the ponies and we rested until the bags were emptied. here, we visited a dairy cow barn,--a large airy building finished in planed lumber, with long rows of stalls where the cows face each other, standing on raised floors and with a wide middle aisle where the feeders pass down between. so scrupulously clean was it that each day it must be washed out and scrubbed. in one end stood a big stone furnace, a sort of oven, to keep the cattle warm through the dark cold winter time, and fresh spring water was piped to a little trough set at each stall. some years ago, having spent the night at a west virginia mountain farm, in middle winter, i looked out of the window in the morning and beheld the family cow with about a foot of snow piled on her back and belly-deep in an icy drift. i remarked, "it has snowed some in the night." mine host replied that "he reckoned it had." and then talking of the snow, i told him that i had seen snow eight feet deep way up in canada. he looked at me incredulously and inquired, "say, what mought the cows do in such snow as that." would that i might show him and his like this norwegian cow barn! then we went on till p. m., when we reached the famous sanatorium of tonsaasen, almost at the summit of the long grade, a spacious wooden hotel overlooking a profound _dal_, down which plunges a cascade. the hotel is kept by a big, bustling woman who speaks perfect cockney english, and who tells us she has "lived in lonnon, although a native norwegian." she wears a large white apron and a white lace cap, and she has received h in most motherly fashion. indeed, our coming has greatly piqued her curiosity. she has asked us many questions and has taken h aside and inquired confidentially whether i am not a deserting soldier, and whether she is not eloping with me! she is evidently alert for military scandal, and was sorely disappointed and half incredulous when h declared that she and i were really man and wife. the truth is, norway is become the retreat for so many runaway couples, recreant husbands and truant wives, that the good people of these caravansaries are quite ready to add you to the list of shady episodes. even when i boldly wrote several postal cards to america and handed them to mine hostess to mail, i felt sure that after she had carefully read them she would scarcely yet believe our tale. here we were given a bounteous supper of eggs, coffee, milk, cream, chicken, hare, trout, five sorts of cheese, and big hot rolls, and all for thirty-five cents each. the ponies were also fed again, and at eight o'clock we moved on twelve miles further, crossing the divide and rolling down into the valley of the baegna elv in the long twilight, and then brilliant starlight, coming at last to a typical norwegian inn, at frydenlund, not far from the lovely aurdals vand. this is the main road in winter between bergen and kristiania, and is then more traveled by sleighs and sledges than even now by carriages. all along the way there are frequent inns and post-houses. to-morrow we start at eight o'clock, and go on sixty-one miles more. [illustration: feeding the ponies, tomlevolden.] [illustration: church of vestre slidre.] our inn is a roomy farmhouse where "entertainment is kept," even as it used to be along the stage-traversed turnpikes of old virginia, and adjoining it are extensive barns and stables. there seemed to be many travelers staying the night. we are really at an important point, for here two state highways separate, the one over which we have come leading to odnaes, and the other diverging southward toward lake spirillen and the country known as the valders, continuing on straight through to kristiania. the house is painted white, and has about it an air quite like a farmstead in new england or new york. we were expected when we arrived. word of our coming had been telephoned from tonsaasen, and also from kristiania. a large bedroom on the second story is given us. the floor is painted yellow and strips of rag carpet are laid beside the narrow bedsteads, where we sleep under eider down. i am writing by the light of a home-made candle. it is late, the silence of the night is unbroken save by the ticking of the tall clock on the staircase landing outside my door, and the occasional neighing of a horse or lowing of a cow. it is the silence of the contented country-side. vii. a drive along the baegna elv--the aurdals vand and many more to skogstad. skogstad, norway, _september , _. here we are eighty-four kilometers (sixty-one miles) from frydenlund, where we spent last night. all day we have sat in an easy carriage, inhaled the glorious buoyant air, and driven over a superb macadamized road. we have skirted the shores of five lakes or _vands_--called _fjords_,--amidst towering snow-marked mountains, passing beneath cliffs rising sheer above us for thousands of feet, the highway sometimes a mere gallery cut into the solid rock, and we are now wondering how we were ever such simple things as to waste our time in tame england, or even linger among what now seem so commonplace, scottish _lochs_ and _tarns_. we have traversed the shores of the aurdal, the stranda, the granheim, the slidre and the vangsmjoesen fjords, each and all pools of the foaming river baegna; and have looked across their limpid waters, their clustered islets, their shimmering surfaces reflecting field and forest and _fjeld_, and even portraying as in a mirror the snow-fields of mountain heights so far distant as to be indistinguishable to the naked eye, distant yet two full days' journey to the west. we have been continually excited and astonished as each succeeding vista of vale and lake and mountain has burst upon us. [illustration: the distant snows.] as we advanced further and further along the wide white military road, the valley of the baegna elv grew narrower and deeper, and the contrasts of verdant meadow and dark mountain increased in sharpness. the lower slopes are as green and well watered as those of switzerland, and are dotted with farmsteads where the thrifty norse farmer dwells upon his own land, independent, self-respecting, recognizing no lord but god--for the title of the "swedish king" weighs but little here. everywhere have i remarked a trim neatness, exceeding, if it were possible, even that of holland. upon the meadows were cattle, mostly red. the fields were ripe with rye and oats and barley where men and women were garnering the crops. the lands were cleared far up the mountain sides to where the forests of dark green fir stretched further up, until beyond the timber-line bare black rock masses played hide and seek among the clouds. back and beyond this splendid panorama of vale and lake and cloud-wrapped summit, far beyond it, binding the horizon on the west, there grew upon our vision all the afternoon enormous heights of stern and austere mountains, lifting themselves into the very zenith, their slopes gleaming with white bands of snow, their topmost clefts nursing glittering icepacks and glaciers. ole mon has constantly pointed toward them saying "yotunheim!" "yotunheim!" and we have known them to be the gigantic ice-bound highlands of the celebrated jotunheim alps, the loftiest snow mountains of norway. we left the inn at frydenlund after a breakfast of brook trout, fried to a turn, and all we could eat of them, delicious milk like that from our blue grass counties of greenbrier and monroe, in west virginia, and coffee made as only an americanized norwegian may know how. along the way we have met children evidently going to and returning from their schools, and it has been charming to see how the little boys pull off their caps, and the little girls drop down in a courtesy. the little caps always come off the yellow heads with sweeping bow, and the duck of the little girls is always accompanied by a smile of greeting. i regret that in america we have lost these pretty customs which were once taught as good manners by our forebears. we have passed this morning a frowning stone jail, the prison of this province, and ole mon tells us that it is quite empty and has had no tenant for some two years; surely, convincing testimony of the innate honesty of these sturdy folk. we have also to-day met many young men, tall and stalwart, clad in the dark blue uniform of the norwegian national guard. this is the season when the annual drills are going on, just at the end of the harvest time. norway, like the rest of europe, has adopted universal military training for her men. they are taught the art of war and how to shoot. it is calculated that in eight or ten years more every norwegian of voting age will have had the necessary military training and will have become a part of the effective national defense. "we will never have trouble with sweden," they say, "the swedes and ourselves only show our teeth." "it is russia, hungry russia, that we fear. we will learn to march and shoot and dig entrenchments so that we may defend ourselves against the aggression of the slav. upon the sea, we are the masters. we learn in your navy how to handle modern warships and shoot the giant guns. upon these mountains, we hope, ere another decade has elapsed, also to be safe against the encroachment of that 'great white peril.'" [illustration: the baegna elv.] [illustration: a herd of cows, fosheim.] [illustration: the granheims vand.] we stopped for our first pony-feed at fagernaes, where a road turns off to lake bygdin and its _elv_, where the english go to fish; halted a half hour at fosheim, where is a fine hotel, and then, passing the ancient stone church of vestre slidre, drove on to loeken, where a reindeer-steak-and-salmon-trout-dinner awaited us. the inn, situated on a rocky point overlooking the picturesque slidre vand, was quakerly-clean, as all of these places are. the neatly dressed young woman who waited on us had lived two years in dakota, and in spokane, and spoke perfect united states. she had an uncle and a brother still there, and hoped to go back herself when the old folks had passed away. at oeilo, fifteen kilometers further on, we also drew rein--each time we stop the ponies have the nosebags of oat meal--and then we paused again at grindaheim at the vang hotel, close to the shores of the vangsmjoesen vand. here the mistress of the inn had lived in minnesota, and talked with us like one of our own countrywomen. she had come home on a little visit, she said. a stalwart norseman had lost his heart and won her hand, and saved-up dollars--but yet her spirit longed for free america. her boys would go there as soon as they were big enough to hustle for themselves. in the dining room of the comfortable house was gathered a collection of stuffed and mounted birds of the surrounding countryside. there were several ptarmigan and one fine capercailzie, the cousin to the black cock, and the biggest thing of the pheasant-kind that flies in northern europe. our minnesotan hostess pressed us to stay and tarry a few days, setting before us a big pitcher of milk and little caraway-seed-flavored tea cakes, all for the price of _te oere_, two and a half cents. we would like to have lingered here, for the house is nestled in one of the wildest and loveliest of dales. to the north, a mile across the vand, tower the black precipitous heights of the giant skodshorn ( , feet) upon whose cloud-capped peaks, ole mon tells us, the ghosts of the ancient scalds and vikings meet in berserker combat with thor and odin, and whence, sometimes, when the air is still and there are no storms about, the clangs and clashes of their battle conflicts resound with thunder roars, waking the echoes in all the valleys round. then the black mountain sides breathe forth gigantic jets of steamlike cloud, while it is at such times also that the _trolls_ and gnomes creep forth from the shadows of the rocks to do honor to the warring giants. when questioned closely, he admitted he had never witnessed one of these combats, but declared that when a boy he had heard the roar on the summit of the mountain and had seen the white clouds shoot up, which is always the sign of victory for the gods. our hostess also asserted that she had once heard the mountain roar, but admitted she had not seen the shooting clouds. some scientists try to explain the mountain's action according to natural laws, but so great is my faith in ole mon that i dare not dispute his word. back of the little inn also rise the lofty masses of the grinde fjeld ( , feet) upon whose moorland summits it is, the capercailzie fly and the herds of reindeer range, whence came the juicy steaks we ate to-day at loeken and have had to-night for supper. [illustration: a hamlet beneath the fjeld.] all along the baegna valley, including the fertile basins wherein nestle the many _vands_ or lesser _fjords_, there were men and women in the fields mowing the short grass and ripening grain. but neither the grasses, nor the rye and oats and barley had reached maturity. nor do they ever fully ripen in these cold latitudes. they must be cut green, and then the feeble sunshine must be made the most of. long ricks, made of sticks and saplings, or poles barred with cross-pieces set on at intervals are built extending through the fields, and on these the grass and grain are carefully spread out, hung on a handful at a time, so that each blade and straw may catch the sun, and dry out, a tedious, laborious work on which the women were more generally employed. the men bring up back-loads newly cut by scythe and sickle, and throw them down before the women, who then carefully hang each handful on the ricks. what must a norwegian feel, trained to such painstaking toil as this, when he at first sets foot upon the boundless wheat lands of minnesota and the prairie west. no wonder he returns to his native homestead only to make a hasty visit, never to remain. in switzerland, i also saw the grass cut when scarcely half ripe and but a few inches high, when it is stored in handy little log cribs where in the course of time it slowly dries out, but here every blade must be hung up in the sun and air if it shall turn to hay. when the hay and grain is fully dried, it is taken down and done up into loosely bound sheaves, or carried in bulk to the large, roomy barns. the grain is generally thrashed out with flails, i am told, although a few american machines are now being introduced. the wire fence is not yet come into norway, although timber is remote and costly, and the people are hard put to it for fencing material. i noticed that they generally depend upon slim poles and small saplings loosely strung together, for english hedges cannot be grown in these chilly northlands. [illustration: ricking the rye.] [illustration: the author by the slidre vand.] and now we are at skogstad, above the vangsmjoesen vand and lesser strande vand, with two or more _vands_ to see to-morrow before we cross the height of land and come down to laerdalsoeren, on the sogne fjord which holds the waters of the sea, sixty-five miles further on. the _vands_ to-day have been like giant steps, each emptying into the one below by the roaring river, mounting up, each smaller than the one below and more pent in by towering mountain masses. h is now tucked in between mattress and coverlet of eider down--we are beyond the latitude of blankets--in a narrow bed, and i am about to get into another on the other side of the room, on which i now sit writing to you by the light of a sperm candle, while the murmur of a thousand cascades tinkles in my ears. viii. over the height of land--a wonderful ride down the laera dal to the sogne fjord. laerdalsoeren, norge, _september , _. we left skogstad early and began to climb a long ascent, a dozen miles of grade, still following the valley of the baegna elv foaming and tossing by our side. the two days so far had been clear and cloudless, but now the air was full of a fine mist, and we probably ascended a thousand feet before the curtain lifted and a panorama of snow-capped mountains, profound valleys, and sheer precipices burst upon us. a thousand rills and rivulets and brawling brooks streaked the green slopes with threads and lines of white; mosses and lichens softened the black rock-masses; blooming heather, and a plant with fine red and yellow leaf gave color to the heights between the sombre greenness of the fir forests below and the whiteness of the snow-fields above. i have never before seen such stupendous precipices, such tremendous heights; neither switzerland nor mexico, alps nor cordilleras lift themselves in so precipitous ascent. after a two hours' climb, all the way listening to the roar of the _elv_ choking the gorge a thousand feet below our way, we met its waters issuing quietly from yet another lake, the little utro vand, surrounded by snow-crowned summits, the snow-fields creeping almost to the water's edge, also passing on our right, the road which leads to the tyin vand and the ice-crowned summits of the jotunheim. here was a large and comfortable inn, nystuen by name, and ole mon gave the ponies their first morning's feed, adding an armful of mountain hay to the oatmeal diet. half an hour's rest is the usual limit, and the ponies seem to know their business and eat their fare on time. in mexico, horses are fed grain but once in twenty-four hours, and that at midnight, so that all hearty food will be digested before the early morning start. here a horse is kept full all the time to do his best; difference of climate and latitude, i suppose. [illustration: the protected road.] just beyond the nystuen vand, we crossed the height of land between the waters of east and west norway, and now the streams were running the other way. we were up , feet, and the summits round about us--rising yet two and three thousand feet higher--were deeply snow-marked--great patches and fields of snow. then we came to another succession of four more _vands_, like steps, each bigger than the one above it, and a roaring river that proportionately grew in size. the road became steeper and we fairly scampered down to a fine inn, painted red with curiously-carven norse ornamentation on the gables, called maristuen. here we had fresh salmon, and more good coffee. for breakfast we were given trout and eggs, now salmon and a delicious custard for dessert. at table we met a mr. c and wife, of chicago, going over our trail, and we may meet them again in stockholm. they are anxious to go on to russia after seeing stockholm, and have urged us to go along also. across the table from us sat a dear old white-haired grandmother from bergen with a blue-eyed, flaxen-haired granddaughter--a viking juno. they are driving across to odnaes in their own carriage, a curious, old-fashioned _trille_, low and comfortable with a mighty top. the old lady is stacked up between pillows of eider down, and the blue-eyed granddaughter is full of tender care. we spake not to them nor they to us, but we smiled at one another and that made us friends. they both waved _farvel_ as they drove away. and then, about two o'clock, we went on again for forty miles down to the level of laerdalsoeren and the sea, on the sogne fjord, where now we are. we were to descend some , feet, and here began one of the most exciting experiences of my life. the mountains kept their heights; we alone came lower, all down a single _dal_. most of the road was hewn out of the side of precipices--a gallery; great stones were set endwise about two feet apart on the outer edge, and sometimes bound together by an iron rail; a slope down which we rolled at a flying trot, coasted down--the roaring, foaming river below, far below. close to us were falls and cascades and cataracts, and the stupendous mountains, the snow-capped rock-masses lifting straight up thousands of feet. h grew so excited, exclaiming over the mighty vistas of rock and water and distant valley, that i had fairly to hold her in; and ever we rolled down and down and down, spanking along with never a pause for nearly thirty miles, the spinning wheels never once catching the ponies' flying heels. great driving that of ole mon, great speeding that of the sturdy ponies; marvelous macadamized roadway, smooth as new york's fifth avenue! water bursts, misty cascades, descending hundreds of feet, sprayed us, splashed us, dashed us, as we went on and on and on, only the gigantic precipices growing higher and higher and higher, and the ever-present snowy summits more and more supreme above us. [illustration: three thousand feet of waterfall.] then we swept out into a green valley, hemmed in on either hand by sombre precipices rising straight up for three and four and five thousand feet, and hove to at the farmstead of kvamme for the ponies to be fed once more before their last descent. a mile or two further on the precipices choke together forming a deep gorge, called the vindhelle, where it looks as though the mountains had been cracked apart. the norwegian farmer, like the swiss, not only makes his living from the warm bottom-lands, which he cultivates, but also from the colder uplands to which his goats and cattle are driven in the early summer, and where the surplus grasses are painstakingly gathered with the sickle. we were driving quietly along when my attention was attracted to a couple of women standing with pitchforks in their hands near a cock of hay. the hay was fresh mown, but i could see no hay-fields round about. they were looking intently at the distant summit of the precipice towering above them. my eye followed theirs. i could barely make out a group of men shoving a mass of something over the edge, and then i beheld the curious sight of a haymow flying through the air. nearer it came, and nearer until it landed at the women's feet. i then made out a wire line connecting a windlass set in the ground near where the women stood and reaching up to the precipice's verge, whence came the hay. the hay was wound about this line. in this manner is the hay crop of these distant uplands safely delivered at the little _gaard_ or farmstead in the valley's lap. from these mountain altitudes the milk and cheese and butter which the goats and cows afford are also sometimes lowered by this telegraph. in switzerland, i have seen communications of this sort for shorter distances, but never before beheld a stack of hay flying through the air for half a mile. this laera river with its _dal_ (dale, valley), is famous for its trout and salmon. we passed several men and boys trying their luck, one, an englishman, up to his waist in the ice-cold tide. we have now put up at a snug hotel, quite modern; english is spoken here. and--but i forgot; when we stopped to feed the ponies, right between the two descents, we made solemn friendship with the old norseman who here keeps the roadhouse; his daughter "had been in chicago," she spoke perfect united states, and took us to see, hard by, the most ancient church in norway, the church of borgund, eight hundred to one thousand years old. it is very quaint, with strange norse carving and runic inscriptions. i gave our pretty guide a _kroner_ for her pains. on returning to the house, she handed it to the old man, who took out a big leathern wallet and put the coin away. we had meant it all for her, and by reason of her knowing chicago had made the fee quite double size. to-morrow we sail for six hours out upon the sogne fjord to gutvangen, then drive by carriage to eida, on the hardanger fjord, all yet among these stupendous mountains. i was sitting in the little front room of the inn waiting for supper, when our driver, ole mon, came in to settle our account, for his trip was at an end. after i had paid him and added a few _oeres_ and a _kroner_ for _trinkgeld_, at the liberality of which he seemed to be much gratified, he produced from the inner pocket of his coat a goodly-sized blank book, which he handed to me, and begged that i would set down therein a recommendation of his qualities as a driver and a guide. in the book were already a number of brief statements in french and german and norwegian, by different travelers, declaring him to be a "safe and reliable man," who had "brought them to their journey's end without mishap." i took the book and wrote down some hurried lines. when i had finished, he gazed upon the foreign writing and then disappeared with the book into the kitchen to consult the cook, who had lived in minneapolis. he presently reappeared, his eyes big with wonder and a manner of profound deference. he now advised me that he would deem it a great honor to be permitted to drive us free of charge, next morning, from the hotel to the steamer, a couple of miles distant. he further said, that he had decided to take the sea trip to gutvangen on our ship and would there secure for us the best carriage and driver of the place. he evidently regarded me as some famous bard, to whom it would be difficult to do sufficient honor. the lines were these: aye! ole mon, you are a dandy whip, you are a corker and a daisy guide. you talk our tongue and rarely make a slip, you've taken us a stunner of a ride. and when from norge's _fjelds_ and _fjords_ we sail, and in america tell of what we've seen, our friends will stand astonished at the tale, and next year bid you take them where we've been. [ilustration: our little ship, laerdalsoeren.] ix. a day upon the sogne fjord. stalheim hotel, norway, _september , _. to-day we have spent mostly on the water. we left laerdalsoeren--the mouth of the valley of the river laera--by ship, a tiny ship, deep-hulled and built to brave the fiercest gales, a boat of eighty to one hundred tons. casting off from the little pier at eight o'clock, we were upon the waters of the majestic sogne fjord until after p. m. this great _fjord_ is the first body of water that i have seen which to my mind is really a _fjord_, the others along the shores of which we have journeyed for the past three days, including the last and least, the smidal and the bruce _fjords_, were only mountain tarns, what in norse speech is termed a "_vand_." while i had read much of _fjords_, never till to-day have i comprehended their marvelous grandeur, the overwhelming magnitude of the earth's convulsions which eons ago cracked open their tremendous depths and heights. although their bottoms lie deeper than the bottom of the sea, ( , feet deep in some places), so the captain tells me, yet up out of these profound waters rise the gigantic mountains (_fjeld_) five and six thousand feet into the blue sky, straight up as it were, with hundreds of cascades and foaming waterfalls, sometimes the tempestuous tides of veritable rivers, leaping down the black rocks and splashing into space, and everywhere above them all are the snow-fields, the eternal snow-fields. sometimes when the precipices are sheltered and sun-warmed, their surface is green with mosses and banded with yellow gorse, and with white and pink and purple heather, and barred with scarlet and gray lichens. the waters were so deep, the precipices so sheer that often our ship sailed not more than twenty or thirty feet distant from them; the misty spray of the streams dissolving into impalpable dust hundreds of feet above us, dampening us like rain, or windblown, flying away in clouds of vaporous smoke. here and there along the more open parts of the _fjord_ were bits of green slope with snug farmsteads, a fishing boat swinging to a tiny pier or tied to the very house itself. sometimes, perched on a rocky shelf, grass-grown and high-up a thousand feet, we would discern a clinging cabin, and once we espied a grazing cow that seemed to be hanging in mid air. no patch of land lay anywhere about that was not dwelt upon, tilled or grazed by some man or beast. the climate of western norway is mild and humid, tempered as it is by the gulf stream. these coasts have always been well peopled, sea and soil yielding abundant living to the hardy norsk. the _fjords_ are the public highways and upon their icefree waters vigorous little steamships ply back and forth busied with incessant traffic through all the year. our course led us up many winding arms and watery lanes to cozy hamlets nestled at the mouth of some verdant _dal_, where we would lie-to a few minutes to put off and take on passengers and freight. we also carried the mails. at each stopping-place the ship's mate would hand out the bags to the waiting official, often an old man, more generally a rosy-cheeked young woman, and carefully take a written memorandum of receipt, when bag and maiden and many of the waiting crowd would disappear. once or twice the bags were loaded upon one of the curious two-wheeled carts called _stolkjaerres_ driven by a husky boy, when cart and horse and boy at once set off at lively gallop. in winter time sledges and men on _skjis_ replace the handy _stolkjaerre_, and thus all through the year are the mails efficiently distributed. the captain tells me that a great proportion of the letters received and sent are from and to america, where so many of norway's most energetic and capable young men are growing rich, and that a large proportion of these letters received are registered, and contain cash or money orders remitted to the families at home. what wonder is it that these thousand white-winged missives, which continually cross the sea, have made and are now making the ancient kingdom almost a democratic state! at one of these hamlets, aurland by name, i caught with my camera a pretty norwegian lass in full native costume, such as has been worn from time immemorial by the women of the sogne fjord,--a charming picture. [illustration: the sogne fjord.] [illustration: along the sogne fjord.] toward three o'clock we sailed up a shadowy canyon, the naeroe fjord, under mighty overhanging precipices, arriving at gudvangen, our voyage's end. here carriages awaited us and here ole mon, who has sailed with us throughout the day, after having driven us down to the boat himself and refused all pay, handed us over to the driver of the best _vogn_ (wagon) of the lot, with evidently very particular instructions as to our welfare. in fact, h tells me, ole mon has spent the day with his book of recommendation open in his hand, calling the world's attention to my glowing rhymes, and pointing me out with an air of profound deference as an illustrious, although to him unknown, bard. we bid him _farvel_, with real sorrow, and regretted that he might not have driven us to the very end. we now went on ten kilometers through a narrow clove, between enormous heights, passing the jordalsnut, towering above us, straight up more than three thousand feet, and straining our necks to peer up at the foaming torrent of the kilefos leaping two thousand feet seemingly at a single bound, and almost wetting us with its flying spray. at one place the road is diverted, and the immense mountain is scarred from the very edge of the snows by the marring rifts of a recent avalanche, which, our driver says, was the most tremendous fall of snow and ice these parts have ever known. at last we began a steep zigzag ascent, so sharp that even h relieved the ponies of her weight. we were an hour in climbing the twelve hundred feet; and found ourselves on a wide bench overlooking the wild and lovely naeroedal up which we had come. the sun was behind us, the half shadows of approaching twilight were creeping out from each dell and crevice. upon our left, the gray peak of the jordalsnut yet caught the sunshine, as also did the snow-fields of the kaldafjeld, almost as lofty upon our right. the naeroedal was filling with the mysterious haziness of the northern eventime. behind us, commanding this exquisite vista, we found a monstrous and uncouth edifice, a german enterprise, the stalheim hotel, thrust out upon a rocky platform between two rivers plunging down on either side. here we have been given a modern bedroom, fitted with american-looking oak furniture, have enjoyed a well-cooked german supper, sat by a blazing wood fire, and shall soon turn off the electric lights and turn in, to repose on a wire mattress, and be lulled to sleep by the musical roar of the two great waterfalls. [illustration: sudals gate on the sogne fjord.] x. from stalheim to eida--the waterfall of skjerve fos--the mighty hardanger fjord. odda, norway, _september , _. we left stalheim by _skyd_ (carriage), at nine o'clock. the drive was up a desolate valley, through a scattering woodland of small firs and birches, close by the side of a foaming creek, the naerodals elv, hundreds of becks and brooklets bounding down the mountain sides to right and left. after an hour's climb, we reached a flattened summit where lay a little lake, the opheims vand, two or three miles long and wide, encircled with snow-fields. here and there we passed a scattered farmstead--_gaard_--for every bit of land yielding any grass is here in the possession of an immemorial owner. the _vand_ is a famed trout pool, and as we wound along its shores we passed any number of men and boys trying their luck. it was raining steadily, a cold fine downpour, and all the male population seemed to have taken to the rod. at the lake's far end we passed a small hotel, built in norse style with carved and ornamented gables and painted a light green. here in the season the english come to fish. [illustration: the naero dal.] leaving the _vand_, we began a long descent, and for twelve miles rolled down at a spanking pace, the brook by our side steadily growing until it at last became a huge and violent torrent, a furious river, the tvinde elv. in the fourteen miles we had descended--coasted--two thousand five hundred ( , ) feet, and now were come to the little town of voss or vossvangen, which lies on the banks of the vangs vand, a body of blue water five or six miles long and two miles wide, surrounded by one of the most fertile, well-cultivated valleys of norway. vossvangen is a town of importance, and is the terminus of the railway with which the norwegian government is connecting bergen and kristiania. the easiest parts of this national railway, those between bergen and vossvangen, and between kristiania and roikenvik--over which we came--are already constructed and running trains, but it is estimated that it will be twenty years before the connecting link is finally completed, for it is almost a continuous tunnel--a magnificent piece of railroad-making when it is done. vossvangen is also the birthplace of one of minnesota's most illustrious sons, united states senator knute nelson. it is upon these mountains that he tended the goats and cows when a barefooted urchin, and i do not doubt that he has surreptitiously pulled many a fine trout and salmon out of the lovely lake. the people of vossvangen accept his honors as partly their own, and my norwegian host gazed at me most complacently when i told him that american senators held in their hands more power and were bigger men than any swedish king. norwegians are justly proud of their eminent sons who, in the great republic over the sea, are so splendidly demonstrating the capability of the norse race. we put up at a modern-looking inn, called fleischer's hotel, a favorite rendezvous for the english, despite its german-sounding name. here we rested a couple of hours, and were given a well-served dinner with tender mutton and baked potatoes, big and mealy, which we ate with a little salt and abundance of delicious cream. our hearts were here stirred with sympathy for a most unhappy-looking american girl who had evidently married a foreign husband. he was a surly, ugly-mannered man, with low brows and tangled black hair. she, poor thing, was the picture of despair, her fate being that all too common one of the american woman who, foolishly dazzled with a titled lover, too late finds him to be a titled brute. we were to continue to eida on the hardanger fjord, in the same carriage in which we set out. the ponies were well rested, and we got away a little after two o'clock. ascending the well-tilled valley of the rundals elv by easy grades over a fine hard road, we crossed a marshy divide and then descended to the hardanger fjord. after passing the divide and coming down a few miles, we suddenly found ourselves on the rim of a vast amphitheatre into the center of which plunged a mighty waterfall, the skjervefos, much resembling that of the kaaterskill falls, in the catskill mountains of new york, only ten times as big. a roaring river here jumps sheer a thousand feet, and then again five hundred more. yet we did not know of it until we were right on to it and into it. the falls making two great leaps, the road crosses the wild white waters between them on a wooden bridge. over this we drove through soaking clouds of spray. [illustration: greeting our boat, aurland.] when in london we had no thought of norway. not until we heard from general and mrs. c of the delights of this journey did we make up our minds to take it. we were then in copenhagen, and neither in that town nor in kristiania have we been able to get hold of an english-worded guide book. we are trusting to our driver's knowledge, and to our own eyes and wits. and so it is, that we came right upon one of the most splendid waterfalls in all norway, and never knew aught of it until chasm and flood opened at our feet. perhaps it is better so. we have no expectations, our eyes are perpetually strained for the next turn in the road, our ears are alert for the thundering of cascades, our minds are open for astonishment and delight. while it is a substantial modern bridge that now takes you safely over the stream which spins and spumes between the upper and the nether falls, yet our driver tells us, that in the ancient days when men and beasts must ford or swim to get across, this was dreaded as a most dangerous place. few dared to ford,--most made a long detour. no matter how quiet or how low the waters might appear, there were yet dangers which men could not see, for water-demons hid in the black eddies and skulked in the foam. they lurked in silence until the traveler was midway the stream when they would boldly seize him by the feet, and draw him down, and ride his body exultingly through the plunging cataract below, nor did they fear also to drown what rescuer might venture in to save his friend. when now the moon is low and the night is still, may frequently be heard commingling with the leaping waters' roar, 'tis said, the death wails of the lost souls of those whom the demons thus have drowned and delivered for torment to the cruel master-demon, niki. below the giant skjervefos we rolled alongside its elv until we came out upon the margin of another exquisite tarn, the gravens vand, where, just as along the vangsmjoesen vand, the roadway is, much of it, hewn out in galleries at the base of overhanging cliffs. nor is there room for carriages to pass. there are turnouts, here and there, and you pull a rope and ring a bell which warns ahead that you are coming. in some places the roadway was shored up with timbers above the profound black waters. we passed from the _vand_ through a rocky glen down which the foaming waters hurried to the sea. we followed the stream and suddenly came out into vast breadth and distance. we were at eida on an arm of the mighty hardanger fjord, the biggest earth crack in norway. [illustration: the hardanger fjord.] a fresh, keen wind blew up from the ocean. a wooden pier jutted out into the deep water, where, tied to it, were several fishing smacks. a small, black-hulled steamer was there taking on freight, but it was not our boat. the sky was overcast. the long twilight was coming to an end. it would soon be dark. across the _fjord_, giant black-faced precipices lifted up into the clouds and snows. down the _fjord_ misty headlands loomed against the dusk. the black waters were foam capped. there was a dull moan to the wind in the offing; it was a night for a storm at sea. it now grew dark. a few fitful stars shone here and there. the wind was rising. a bright light suddenly appeared toward the west. our boat had come round the headland, and was soon at the pier. it was much like the little ship in which we sailed upon the sogne fjord. these _fjords_ are alive with multitudes of just such boats, deep-set, sturdy craft, built to brave all weathers and all seas. our course lay down the graven fjord, through the uten fjord, and then up the long, narrow soer fjord--arms of the hardanger--to the hamlet of odda, where we would again take a carriage and cross the snow-fields of the giant haukeli mountains of the western alps. watching the sullen waters, profound and mysterious, as they churned into a white wake behind our little craft, i could scarcely credit it that i was upon the hardanger fjord, the greatest and most intricate of the sheltered harbors which for centuries have made the coasts of norway the fisherman's haven, the pirate's home. upon these waters the ancient viking learned his amphibious trade. hid in the coves which nestle everywhere along the bases of the precipices the viking mothers hatched and reared their broods of sea-urchins, who romped with the seals and chased the mermaids and frolicked with the storms. where i now sailed had met together again and again those fleets of war-boats, the like of which we saw the other day in kristiania, and which went out to plunder and ravage hamlet and town and city along all the ocean coasts, even passing through the gates of hercules, and visiting latin and greek and african province with devastation and death. "sea-wolves," tacitus called them, and such they were. here gathered the hardy war-men who went out and conquered gaul, and founded norse rule in normanwise where now is normandy. hence sailed forth the warships which harried the british isles, and left norse speech strong to this day on scottish tongue and in northumbrian mouth. here, also, fitted out the ships, some of the crews of which it may have been who left their marks upon the new jersey shores in vineland, and who may even have been the sires of that strange blue-eyed, light-haired, unconquered race i saw two years ago in yucatan, who have held the spaniards these four centuries in check. i gazed upon the black waters of mighty hardanger, and saw the fleets returning with their spoil, and heard the shouts of vengeance wreaked and victory won, which have so often echoed among these mountains. i was looking upon the breeding, homing waters of the greatest sea-race the world has known, and every lapping wavelet became instinct with the mystery of the cruel, splendid past. [illustration: the soer fjord, hardanger.] the churning of the propeller blades now ceased. i felt a jarring of the boat. we were come to odda and the voyage's end. it was ten o'clock when we made our port. a black night it had been, pitch dark, with a fierce wind and ill-tempered sea. the profound waters respond with sullen restlessness to the stress of outer tempest. only a norseman born and bred to these tortuous channels could have safely navigated them on such a night, and i noticed that our engines did not once slacken speed throughout the voyage! upon arriving at our hotel we found we were expected. a comfortable room was in readiness, and a carriage engaged for the following day and early breakfast arranged. all this had been done through telephone by our tourists' agency (the bennetts) in kristiania. and so have we found it everywhere along our route. all norway, every post office and nearly every farm, and especially all hotels and inns, are connected by a telephone system owned and run by the government. anybody in norway can call up and talk to anybody else. we have experienced the full benefit of this efficiency. our entire trip has been arranged by telephone from kristiania. we are always expected. a delicious meal, ordered from kristiania, is always ready for us, and every landlord knows to the minute just when we will arrive, for news of us has been 'phoned ahead from the last station we have passed. this hamlet of odda is an important point. here converge the two great trade and tourist routes of western norway. the one, the telemarken route, crossing the haukeli fjeld of the western alps to dalen, and thence by the telemarken lakes and locks to skien, and by rail to kristiania; the other diverging at horre, passing down the valley of the roldals vand to sand and thence to staavanger by the sea, whence ships cross to hamburg and bremen and the north sea ports, and to hull and harwich in britain--favorite routes by which the germans and british enter norway. xi. the buarbrae and folgefonden glaciers--cataracts and mountain tarns--odda to horre. horre, hotel breifond, _september , _. to-day we have driven thirty miles from odda, all of it up hill, except the last six miles. we started about nine o'clock with two horses, an easy carriage, and a driver whom i have had to resign to h's more promising danish, for he is elderly and very weak in the foreign tongue. from the first we began to climb. the driver in norway always walks up the hills, and the male traveler also walks, while the female traveler is expected to walk, if she be able. the norse ponies take their time, although at the end of the day they have traveled many miles and are seemingly little tired. by the side of the smooth road rushed a river, the aabo elv, a mass of foam and spray which sometimes flew over us. a couple of miles farther on we came to a little dark-blue lake, the sandven vand, surrounded by lofty mountains, on the far side of which, almost jutting into it, pressed down the glacier of buarbrae, descending from the snow-fields of the folgefonden, a single expanse of ice and snow some forty miles long and ten to twenty wide, the greatest accumulation of snow and ice in western norway. over the precipices hemming in the _vand_ dashed scores of cataracts and cascades, often leaping two and three thousand feet in sudden plunge. h says nobody can ever show her a waterfall again, nor talk about english _waters_ or scottish _lochs_. passing the lake, we continued to ascend, the road entering a deep and sombre gorge, which suddenly widened out into a sunlit vale, the air being filled with mists and rainbows. we were nearing the lotefos and the skarsfos, two of norway's most celebrated cataracts. two rivers begin falling almost a mile apart, approaching as they fall, until they unite in a final leap of nearly fifteen hundred feet, a splendid spectacle, while right opposite to them tumbles the espelandsfos, falling from similar heights. the spray and mist of the three commingle in a common cloud, and the highway passes through the eternal shower bath. as you look up you can see the entire mass of the waters from their first spring into space throughout their tumultuous, furious descent, until they eddy at your feet. nature is so lavish here with her gigantic earth and water masses that one is perpetually awe-struck. one incident has occurred today, which i presume i may take as a high compliment to my native tongue. one of two young frenchmen, whose carriage has traveled near our own, while walking ahead of his vehicle, found the ponies disposed to walk him down. twice this happened. then he waxed wroth. he suspected the tow-headed norse driver of not being really asleep, but of trying to even up the ancient national grudge against his own dear france. he flew into a gallic passion. he stopped short. he halted the team. he awoke the driver. he shouted in broken english, "you drive me down! you drive me down! you vone scoundrel! i say vone damn to you, i say vone damn, i say vone damn!"--shaking his fist in the astonished face of the sleepy-head. after that the norseman kept awake and the french gentleman walked safely in the middle of the road. he evidently felt that to swear in french would be quite lost upon the son of the vikings. english alone would do the job. [illustration: the espelands fos.] [illustration: commingling lote fos and skars fos.] we climbed for many miles a deep glen called the seljestad juvet; and dined long past the hour of noon at a wayside inn, the seljestad hotel. the hotel was kept by women. "our men," they said, "are gathering hay at the _saeter_ (mountain farm) far up on the mountain highlands. they are gone for a month, and will not return until the crop is all got in." we paid our modest reckoning to a delicate, fair-haired, blue-eyed little woman, with quiet, graceful manners, well bred and courteous in bearing. she is the bookkeeper and business manager of the inn, "so long as the summer season lasts," she said. and then she sails to england in one of her father's ships, and there becomes a governess in an english family until another summer holiday shall come around. she had never been to america. "some day," her skipper sire had "promised to take her to new york," when they would "run over for a day" to minneapolis to see an aunt and cousins who were prospering, as do all norwegians in america's opportunity-affording air. and "americans, she always liked to meet," she said, "for unlike the english, they met you so frankly and did not condescend." she showed h all through the neat and tidy kitchen, while a big black nanny goat stood in the doorway and watched them both. all the afternoon we kept on climbing by the winding roadway, passing a black-watered, snow-fed tarn, the gors vand, and over the gorssvingane pass above the snow line, where snow-fields stretched below us, around us, above us. from the summit of , feet above odda and the sea, we had a superb view of all the vast folgefond ice-field behind us, and before us two others, the breifond and the haukeli fjeld, as vast, while , feet right down beneath us lay a deep blue lake, the roldals vand. the road now wound ten kilometers (six and one-third miles) down into the deep valley by many successive loops, twelve of them, one-half a mile to the loop--a feat of fine engineering, for this is a military road. we came down on a full trot all the way, even as ole mon came down the laera dal, until we reined in at a picturesque inn at the vale of horre, overlooking the valley of roldal and its _vand_. now we are in a cozy hostelry, the hotel breifond, with a room looking out over the exquisite deep-blue lake, encompassed by green mountains and snow-covered summits. [illustration: the gors vand.] [illustration: glacier of buarbrae.] our hotel is kept by two sweet-faced elderly women, serene and rosy-cheeked, dressed in black with immaculate white caps; one is the widow of a daring seaman who years ago went down with his ship in a winter gale. he was the captain and would not leave his post, though many of the crew deserted and were saved. the other is her spinster sister, whose betrothed lover likewise was lost at sea. in the summer time they here harbor many anglers, who come to fish the waters of the roldals vand and adjacent streams, which like most norwegian lakes and rivers are rented out by the local provincial or district governments. the visitors who come here are chiefly english, the ladies tell us, and great is their distress and often violent their objurgation at the absence of any darkness when they may sleep. they cannot adjust themselves to the nightless days. they are inexpressibly shocked when they find themselves playing a game of golf or tennis at midnight, or forgetful of the flight of time in the excitement of a salmon chase, pausing to eat a midday snack at a. m. our beds are the softest we have yet slept in, for both mattress and coverlet are of eider down. the two ladies have been delighted to talk with h in the native tongue, and have told her of their nephews and cousins who are getting rich owning fine wheat farms in the red river of the north. "come back to us in june," they say. "our wild flowers are then in bloom, and the hungry trout and salmon will then rise to any fly!" and h and i resolve that in june we surely will return. i saw one or two small pale butterflies to-day, and one gray moth at the snow edge, where we crossed the divide; the only ones i yet have seen. the birds, in this northland, of course, are all new to me; the crows are gray, with black wings, heads and tails; a magpie with white shoulders and white on head, and long, blue-black tail, is very tame; while a bird i take to be a jay is numerous, with black body, white shoulders and wing tips, and tail feathers edged with white. i have seen some gray swallows which are now gathering in flocks preparatory to going south, and several sparrows much like our field sparrows; and sandpipers and upland plover, very small. the gray crows have a coarse croak like a raven, "krakers" they are called. in england we saw and heard our only lark the day we drove from ventnor to cowes, on the isle of wight, but i heard no other song birds in england, only once, near oxford, when i caught a note like our song sparrow's, while crows and rooks swarmed everywhere from southampton to inverness. in denmark there are many storks, and i there saw the nest of one, a gigantic mass of sticks and mud, built on the ridge of a barn, but i noticed few other birds, except the gulls and terns along the sea. at vang, the other day, i saw, as i wrote you, the ptarmigan, and the capercailzie stuffed and mounted by a norwegian living there; they are found on the mountains thereabouts; and a passenger, day before yesterday, on the sogne-fjord-boat, had in his hand half a dozen ptarmigan, with their plumage already turning toward the winter's white. [illustration: the descending road to horre.] xii. over the lonely haukeli fjeld--witches and pixies, and maidens milking goats. hotel haukelid, _september , _. this morning we left hotel breifond about eight o'clock and although we started alone, three other carriages soon caught up with us, and we set off together, ours being the first in the line. as it is the etiquette of the drivers never to pass each other, we have kept this order all the day. next behind us was a dane with his norwegian wife, from bergen, to whom h talked in their own tongue. next to them were the two young frenchmen with whom i have managed to converse, and behind these rode a german and his _frau_, who were most icy until they learned we were not english but americans, whereupon they grew friendly indeed. we have got well acquainted while walking together up the long mountain slopes. yesterday we crossed the divide at a maximum elevation of , feet, and were above the snow line; to-day we again traversed the snow-fields at a yet higher altitude, passing under one snow mass by a tunnel, where h took a snap-shot of me standing in the snow, and reached the maximum altitude of , feet. [illustration: a mile stone.] [illustration: cattle on the haukeli fjeld.] from the emerald valley of the roldals vand we crept up a long ascent for twenty miles, and i walked the whole of it. we followed the foaming vasdals elv to its source, until all trees were below us, and only short grasses, mosses and lichens grew amid the masses of drear, black rock, and wide fields and patches of snow. this was the most desolate region i have ever yet beheld or set foot upon; no life of any sort; "_aucuns animaux, aucuns oiseaux; seulement les roches, le silence et le froid_," as one of the young frenchmen exclaimed! there was not even a gnat or a butterfly. the primordial adamant rock presented as sharp and unworn edges to the blows of the icy torrents as when god first made it. the sun was warm and all the streams brim full, swollen from the melting snows. high on the height of land we found two silent lakes, the ulivaa vand and the staa vand. no life stirred about them, although our driver asserted they were "alive with fish." on these silent heights with their mosses and lichens, goats and reindeer thrive, and the latter range throughout the year. we dined near the summit at a neat log inn called haukeli-saeter upon a soup, boiled salmon, reindeer steak and vegetables,--all good. here our germans clamored for _sauerkraut_ and _bier_, and were much perturbed at receiving instead schooners of sweet milk and caraway-seeded tea-cakes. the inn is built in typical norse style, with sharp and elaborately carved gables, and is kept open chiefly for the benefit of tourist travel. our driver is a quaint and lackadaisical old norsk, who speaks a drawling, ancient roldal _patois_. the first day we could not do much with him, although h tried her best danish. but to-day he is beginning to thaw out and has at last become really garrulous. he is full of peasant superstition and folk lore which he implicitly believes. these haukeli fjelde will never be inhabited by man, he says, for they are already the home of the giant and dangerous _trolls_, mysterious and mighty spirits who are inimical to man. they dwell on the barest and bleakest and most desolate mountain tops, where they devour young kids and reindeer fawns and, occasionally, even dare to kidnap a child, and are always on the watch to steal a buxom lass. it is useless to chase or follow them, they are never to be caught, and while they may show themselves at times if they shall choose, yet they are invisible to most human eyes. he has never seen a _troll_, he says, but once he knew an old man who had been scared by one which tried to catch him when a boy. there are also witches upon the haukeli mountain tops, the old man says. he is sure he has heard them hurtling through the air, sometimes, when driving alone in the dusk of midsummer nights, crossing the desolate heights of the haukeli fjeld. i asked him if they still rode on broomsticks as they used to do in germany, but he declared that they were more bloodthirsty than that, for they always carried ancient viking broadswords, which they had picked up after some of the big fights which take place before breakfast in valhalla every morning among the vikings. every summer some few witches are sure to be seen or at any rate heard, by some lonely peasant caught by fatigue on a twilight mountain top. there is one more beautiful than all the rest, he says. he calls her "hulda," and says she is a great hand to seduce and beguile young men. she can fix herself up to appear very beautiful, and to look upon her is to fall fast in love with her. then she taps a rock with a long staff she carries and lo! it opens and there within are splendid chambers, a fairy palace, with all the allurements of golden furnishings and sumptuous hangings and a table groaning under the weight of delicious things to eat. if, dazzled by this glimpse of paradise, the youth once enters and is taken in her arms and kissed by her, then it is all up with him. he never escapes, but after she has toyed with him to her heart's content in idle dalliance, and grown tired of him, then are his blackened bones cast forth upon some barren mountain top, perhaps to be found long years afterward by wandering goatherd or venturesome hunter. between these _trolls_ and the witches, h has acquired a most wholesome fear of the haukeli fjeld, and she vows she would never drive over it alone. [illustration: the desolate haukeli fjeld.] also, the old man has at first hinted at and then confided to us that the _trolls_ and witches are not indeed the so serious menace they might seem, for they are really afraid of man and keep generally well out of his way; but that the real vexation of life comes from the little pixies and sprites, who love to live handily about your house, and who are always making trouble, either out of a spirit of pure mischief, or else by reason of jealousy or pique. they are "very touchy," he says, and you never know when or how you may offend them. but if you do, then woe betide you. they will steal the feed out of your horse's trough, or from his very nosebag right before your eyes, and so deft are they at their tricks that you can never catch them. you only discover that your horse gets thinner and thinner until he finally dies, while if they shall be pleased with what you have done or said you will find the horses always sleek and fat and able to do two days' work in one. i asked him how he stood in with the pixies just now, for i thought his team looked rather poor, but he said that was by reason of the hard summer's work, the pixies having done him no ill for several years. they also delight to milk the goats and cows upon the sly, he said, and will steal the cheese set out to dry, and often play such havoc with household supplies as to drive the peasants to despair. for this reason it is, that many good farmers set out little bowls of milk and bits of cheese in some silent meadow or mountain dell, where the pixies may eat quite undisturbed. as if to emphasize the old man's words, we just then passed the hut of a woman goatherd almost upon the summit of the vast lonely haukeli fjeld and there, set upon a little shelf, high up near the moss-grown roof, were a small milk-bowl and a bit of brown cheese, an offering to the elves and pixies of that place. the information i here give you may be wrong in minor detail, for we could not always perfectly interpret the quaint and ancient dialect in which the facts were told, but h says she could make out the most of what the old man said; for after all danish and norse speech are very nearly the same. we were now well over the height of land and were coasting down toward prospective supper. the barren waste of black and gray rocks, across which we had traveled, began to give place to greener slopes; the mosses had returned; the grass was peeping up again. swinging around a well-graded curve, we dropped into a little valley. the evening sun was behind us, the slanting rays tipped peak and snowy crest with reddish gold, but the vale below was wrapped in soft shadow. on the left, stood a moss-roofed cabin, near where ran the road; on the right, across a boisterous brook, we saw a group of norse maidens, clad in blue-and-red peasant costume, surrounded by a herd of goats. the goats were apparently in great excitement. each young woman was following a goat and that particular goat walked with demure and expectant gait. one old gray goat moved with particularly stately step, while the lady by his side held in her hand a small wooden bucket. i presumed that, of course, she proposed to give that goat his evening meal. imagine my astonishment when, before the goat really was aware, she collared it, swung her leg over it and holding it fast between her thighs, facing its rear, began energetically milking, not it, or him, but her! the goat had disappeared, only a tail and a head discovered themselves beyond the lady's skirts, and the evening shadows gathered about that maid and goat,--that goat held tight as though in iron vise. the day was too nearly done for my kodak to avail, so i have tried to sketch the episode, and so also has one of our french companions--and i send you the pictures. if the old poet had only seen the tableau of goat and maid he never could have written the following lines which long ago my memory clipped from the yale _news_: "the milkmaid pensively milked the goat, when, sighing, she paused to mutter, i wish you brute, you'd turn to milk, and the animal turned to butt her!" we have driven some eighty kilometers to-day and have been in the fresh mountain air, open air, for eleven hours. h is growing plump, and her cheeks have caught the norse red. the keen air makes our blood tingle in spite of the cold, for it is cold. on these summits ice forms the moment the sun is hid. we are in full winter clothing, and wrap our heavy sea rugs about us as we sit in the carriage. in a fortnight the snows will cover the passes and tourist travel will cease till another year. [illustration: norse maiden milking goat.] during the last two days we have frequently met men bearing on their backs and dragging on sledges piles of birch branches, the twig ends with the leaves yet on, and we have noticed here and there, entire birch-growing hillsides where the saplings had all been trimmed, the tender twigs sheared off and frequently the lopped-off branches stacked up in bundles stuck in a handy tree-crotch. this is the winter fodder for the goats, and the birch twig is as important for them as is the hay for the cattle. just as in switzerland, large flocks of goats are pastured throughout the summer upon the higher mountain slopes and ridges, and much cheese is manufactured from their milk. of sheep we have seen few, although i understand a good many are raised for the local demand for wool. like scotland, norway is hereabouts too cold and harsh for sheep to do their best. nor have we noticed many fowls, turkeys or geese or ducks about the farmsteads,--only a few chickens here and there. this also is too cold a climate, with too rigorous and lengthy winters for poultry to be profitable. nor have we had chicken set before us but the once when we supped with the inquisitive dame of tonsaasen. trout and reindeer steak as well as eggs we have often had, and once roast ptarmigan. neither in britain, nor in france, nor in germany have i ever seen a wooden house; all buildings there are of stone or brick; but here the buildings throughout the countryside are all of wood; hewn logs most frequently, not uncommonly of sawed lumber, these latter quite often painted white and red, reminding one of tidy new england. the roofs are steep to shed the snows or, otherwise, quite flat and covered with a layer of birch bark and then tight-growing sods and mosses, which covering the snow may melt upon but through which it will never soak. to-day being sunday, we have met many churchgoers upon the road, and have passed two churches where the lutheran service was being held. during our drive we have constantly noted the number of these lutheran churches, as well as the snug-built, substantial schoolhouses. piety and intelligence deeply mark the lives of these norse people. just as in denmark, so here also is the lutheran church recognized and supported by the state, and its pastors constitute a formidable and influential body, guiding the thought of the norwegian people. apparently the schools here are as universal and as well attended as our own. every norwegian child, who is of school age, is compelled by law to go to school. nowhere outside of my own country have i seen so many schoolhouses dotting the countryside. in england there are no common schools and no schoolhouses. in france the schoolhouses are hidden among the buildings of the clustered villages. in switzerland, perhaps, the schoolhouse is as much in evidence as here, but in neither germany nor holland, although their universities lead the world, is there revealed the teaching of the common people as is done by the many schoolhouses of this northern land. now we are housed in a commodious and quite modern inn, and have had a delicious trout supper, all our four carriage-loads of travelers sitting at one long table, where h and i have been the stars--for we only and alone can talk equally to the dane and his norwegian wife, to the young frenchmen, and to the german pair; while through us only can they exchange ideas, for we alone can talk to each in his own native tongue. "ah! these americans!" "you talk all the languages!" "how wide you see!" "while we, we do not see beyond the boundaries of france." "we speak too seldom a foreign tongue." "you are bigger-minded than are we!" so exclaimed one of our french friends. xiii. descending from the fjelde--the telemarken fjords--the arctic twilight. dalen, _september , , p. m._ our series of great rides on land and water is at an end. for eight days we have been inhaling the crisp, buoyant, ozone-laden atmosphere, viewing the majestic scenery, watching the sturdy, strong-faced men and women, the rosy, yellow-haired children; and now it is over. h and i agree that in our lives we will never again experience a more delightful outing--our sure-enough honeymoon. this morning we left the hotel haukelid with only sixty kilometers for the day, and most of it down hill; since noon yesterday we have been coming down. just a little snow was now to be seen far away upon distant summits, while forests of birches, interspersed with aspens, covered the nearer slopes. our road led us along the borders of several exquisite lakes, the little voxli vand and then the greater grungadals vand, about a mile wide and ten or twelve miles long; frowning precipices and cloud-wrapped heights encircled us on every hand, their rocks now largely greened over with mosses, and birches--only a few firs--growing wherever trees might thrust their roots. then we drove through a narrow clove, along a frothing torrent, and came to another _vand_ equally shut in, but not so long nor so wide,--a greener, warmer valley, boertedals vand in the boerte dal. here we dined at hotel boerte, rested till p. m., and then got away for one of the finest thirty kilometers of the trip. if we only had had ole mon to drive us, how perfect would have been the day! i imagined we had already come down enough to be at the bottom, but we were yet to descend a mighty canyon with the road blasted out of the precipice's side, and walled in with rock posts and iron defenders, much like the laera dal, while far beneath us wound a silver thread, the almost imperceptible roar of whose waters floated up a tremulous murmur. we came down at a rattling trot, every moment unfolding new vistas of vale and precipice and mountain. after two hours of this fearful, yet joyous, coasting we crossed a wide-spanning iron bridge and swept out into the charming vale of dalen, at the head of the bandaks vand, where now we are. the mountains are here clothed in heavy forests of birch and much deciduous timber, only a little of the fir; i can scarcely realize that yesterday we were up amongst the mosses, the lichens and the snows. as we descended we kept taking off our wraps; our rugs were folded up; h took off her golf cape, then her jacket; she wanted to ride with bared head, so soft and warm had grown the air. [illustration: a norse cabin.] [illustration: our hostesses, haukeli saeter.] kristiania, norway, _september , _. yesterday, we left dalen at the head of navigation on the bandaks vand, boarded a taut little steamboat about feet long, built for deep water, and traveled sixty-five kilometers through a succession of _vands_ and _fjords_--the telemarken fjords--canals and locks--twenty locks in all--to skien (called "sheen"), where we took the railway for kristiania, arriving at midnight. the lakes were long, narrow and mostly shut in by heavily-timbered mountains, which as always, lifted up to enormous heights, green vales and valleys opening in between, where were picturesque hamlets and neat, thrifty-looking farmsteads. nothing here impresses me more than the great patience and tireless energy of the "norsks," as they call themselves. the magnificent roads, superior to those of england, equal, almost equal to those of france; the canals, blasted for miles through solid granite; the railways, which are as good as our own; the little boats so perfectly appointed. the norwegians impress you as being born seamen; they know how to build and how to sail a boat, and you feel it. standing upon the forward deck, watching the changing panorama of vale and lake and mountain, i became so absorbed in the enchanting pictures that it was some moments before i noticed a slit-eyed, high-cheek-boned, black-straight-haired, short, pudgy youth or man--hard to tell which--a sure-enough lap if ever there was one, who was making vain efforts to hold conversation with me. he spoke slowly and with some hesitation in perfect cockney english. i at once gave him my ear, and asked him where he had learned to speak so well. "hi ave been a cook in lonnon," he said. "hi ave been hassistant cook in a hinglish otel, you know. hi am just now leaving the otel at dalen, where hi ave been hassistant cook this summer, you know." whereupon he told me of his experiences in london. how he landed there from a norwegian ship, friendless and unknown, and made his way by his aptitude in wiping dishes! and some day he "oped" to go to "hamerica" and there own a kitchen all for himself. "ow strange it must be for an hamerican to see real mountains," he exclaimed, and i discovered that the only america he knew about was the prairie land of the flat west. upon my asking whether he was not a laplander, he resented the suggestion with great vehemence, declaring himself to be a viking pure, and he begged me to let him know if i should learn of any good openings for dish-wipers in america, especially if it would lead to the dignity of cook. his manner was frank and simple, wholly free from self-consciousness, except as he took great pride in being able to speak the english tongue. in norway there are no classes and all men stand equal before the law. it is as respectable there to work as it is in america, and similarly men meet you as your natural equals. there is none of that offensive subserviency which so jars upon one in most of the monarchy and aristocracy bestridden lands. the volume of water which flows from these lakes and through these deep canals is immense and we have sometimes swept along the narrower channels at really an exciting pace. we had just passed through the beautiful flaa vand and descended the deep full-flowing river, the eids elv, with its many locks, to the greater nordsjoe vand, when we drew up beside a little pier. there were many people upon it. evidently, there was here gathered an unusual crowd, and down the hillside leading toward us came yet others. the whole community had turned out. two tall, rosy-cheeked, blue-eyed, fair-haired young men were the center of the throng; about them the others pressed. they were neatly dressed, fine-looking fellows, and the men and women were kissing them good-bye. they were going to america, perhaps never to return. the mother, a gentle-faced, white-haired old lady, wept on the necks of each of them, and the white-haired father kissed them upon either cheek, and then everybody rushed in to shake their hands. they were going to america where so many of norway's most ambitious and able sons had gone before. the whole countryside would watch their career and wait for news of their success! two iron-bound chests were dragged on to the boat. the young men stepped alertly aboard, their faces flushed with the excitement of the farewells and the anticipations of the land across the sea. as i watched them and their family and friends waving their adieus i could not but ponder upon this instinct of the old-world races, my own among the rest, to go out and seize life's prizes even across the widest waters. the leave-taking i was now beholding must be not unlike that of the men and women who in the days of pilgrim and puritan and cavalier left little england to found a community where freedom and opportunity are still the loadstones which attract the energy and youth of all the world. [illustration: haukeli saeter.] [illustration: a goat herd's saeter, haukeli fjeld.] in traveling through norway, i have been greatly surprised to see so many newly-built farmhouses, barns and farm buildings, new fences and modern gates. everywhere the old and tumbled-down is being replaced by the substantial and modern. i have seen nothing like this anywhere in europe; nowhere so general a replacing of the old with the new. many of the new farmhouses are not merely substantial, but are architecturally attractive. there must be abundant money coming from somewhere to pay the cost of this universal rebuilding. i have asked about it more than once and every time i receive the same reply. "the sons have gone to america, they are in chicago, in minnesota, in dakota. they have grown rich. they are sending back the money. they want the old places made as trim and spick as though they were in america." "put everything in good repair," they say, "never mind the cost." and then, every few years they return with the american grandchildren to see the beloved old folks. more and more of these american-norwegians are coming every year to holiday in the fatherland. many now regularly sojourn throughout the summer. a few, a very few, remain to end their days on the loved home-soil. i also learn that it is to supply the demand of this increasing travel from america to norway that the scandinavian-american line have recently put on the large ocean steamers now sailing direct from new york to kristiansand, with accommodations equal to anything which has hitherto entered the ports of germany and england and france. the other day at loeken, we were waited on at table by a fine-looking young woman who spoke perfect united states. she had an air about her of comfortable independence. the house, the farm buildings, everything about the place was new and neat. while we were talking with her, she told us that she had a brother and an uncle in the far west, one at spokane, who was rich. she was living with him when word came that the old father had passed away. she was needed at home to care for the mother and the younger children, so she returned; and the brother sent back the money to have the old place put in perfect repair. this intimate connection between our thriving west and norwegian home life, largely explains, i think, that independent american spirit which now so prominently marks norway, and the growth and assertion of which is driving her by natural momentum away from the hectoring ties of franchise-constricted, aristocratic sweden, pushing her toward her inevitable destiny--to become a republic. [illustration: drying out the oats.] [illustration: tending the herds.] the immigration from norway to the united states has taken from her nearly one-half the population, a much larger percentage than has yet come forth from sweden. although even there, so great is now the exodus, that the swedish ministry is alarmed; there is also uneasiness in norway. recently, laws have been enacted prohibiting the steamship agents from spreading among the people the glowing accounts of america, by means of which so many steerage tickets are sold, but all the same, the propaganda is persistently carried on. at skogstad, the other day, i fell in with an alert-looking, quiet-mannered man, who, after he learned i was an american, confided to me that he himself was from minnesota. he had been born in norway, but went to america when a boy. he was now back in norway representing large farming interests in the northwest, and his business was to recruit farm hands for the western wheat fields. he said he had penetrated during the past three years into every nook and cranny of norway, everywhere finding out what vigorous and sturdy young men would like to go to america, and then arranging with them to pay their passage, and supply sufficient funds to enable them to pass the immigration inspectors, and providing also their railroad transportation to the west. "they are a splendid and hard working lot of men," he said. "we want all of them we can get. and most of them do well when they reach america; many of them become rich men." he was traveling in the disguise of an itinerant doctor selling herbs and roots. crossing the mountain this side of boerte, where the road wound up through the fir forest to avoid an immense cliff which jutted into the lake, i stopped and dug up a little seedling fir, surely a real norway spruce. i took it up with care and have now brought it to kristiania and to-day am sending it to america by mail wrapped in damp mosses, and trust that it will reach kanawha with life enough to live and thrive in its west virginia home. along the roadside, not far from where i found the seedling, were lying a fine pair of _skjis_, just as the wearer laid them aside, only to be worn when winter shall return. the norwegian does not need to lock his door! upon the mossy, marshy, moorland summits and divides which we have traversed, i have noticed widespread beds of peat. in some places these are extensively worked, large areas being uncovered and the squares of peat piled up to dry. the existence of this fuel has proved a godsend to norway, for the forests are often distant and year by year the woodlands diminish. although there are some inferior coal beds in southern sweden, there are none in norway, and for fuel her peat beds and her forests are her sole domestic supply. and yet, despite this lack of fuel, it seems to me that norway is dowered with enormous stores of power. she possesses water power without stint. king winter surely cannot freeze up all the streams. will not the day yet come when the harnessed water powers of norway may run the turbines which will supply the world? [illustration: dalen on the bandaks vand.] it is yet early september; the belated summer of this far northern land, to our strange eyes, is just begun. the meadows are green; the fields of grain are scarcely yellowed; in the markets of kristiania we see daily exposed for sale fresh-ripened strawberries; in our virginian latitude it would be the season of the month of may. yet we see big stacks of firewood piled near each farmhouse door; we see the cabin newly banked with earth against the frost; at blacksmith's shop we see men hammering on well-used sled; alongside the road, awaiting the winter's need, lies an upturned snowplow newly ironed; everywhere men are making ready for the cold. in a fortnight the highway across the haukeli fjeld will be blocked with new-fallen snow. in a month the jingling bells of sleighs and sledges will sound along the now verdant valley of the baegna elv. a year ago, when traveling in mexico, in southern michoacan, the tropical precipitancy of the night was sure to take me unawares. i was never quite prepared for the sharp transition from day to night. the hot red sun rested a moment above the towering cordillera, then it dipped behind, and the cold white stars instantly shone forth. here in norway my senses are equally surprised. it is already september and yet "early candle light," means near ten o'clock. the day dies slowly. the contours of vale and mountain almost imperceptibly fade upon the eye. a violet blueness softens form and hue. little by little the violet changes into gray, and then the grayness pervades the air as though the shadow of some phantom raven's wing overspread the world. at nine o'clock, at half past nine, at ten o'clock, the goats and cattle are awake--we have made long day-drives by reason of the limits to our time--i wonder if they ever sleep. the sparrows and gray-coated crows fly soberly across our way; a magpie softly flutters to the road. i hear no bird-songs, only faint twitters, no chirping crickets, no piping frogs and newts, none of the evening sounds of my virginian countryside. a hush creeps over _dal_ and _fjeld_ and _fjord_, even as do the mysterious violet and gray shadows. we ourselves are drowsed. i do not speak to h nor she to me. to the ponies ole mon has ceased to talk. the world is stilled. we draw long breaths, inhale the delicious air, lean back against the cushions of our seat, and daydream amidst this hush of man and thing. the old norse driver of the roldal cautions h to watch. "this is the hour," he says, "when the elves and pixies stir abroad. count the fifth meadow from where you stand and there they are always sure to be." thus have we driven through the twilight, the mysterious, lingering twilight of this far and almost arctic north. this is the last letter you will receive from norway and i am sure that you will agree with me, after reading what i have sent you, that nowhere in all the world may one have a more delightful outing. [illustration: norse women raking hay.] as to expenses, i figure it up that the total cost for both of us is a little less than five dollars per day, which includes our carriage, our driver, our eating, our sleeping and the liberal fees which, like good americans, we have everywhere bestowed. here in norway the _oere_ (two and one-half cents) is as big as the quarter, and the _kroner_ (twenty-seven cents) as big as the dollar. how long the _oere_ will loom so large i dare not say, for the american invasion is begun, and i fear the _kroner_ will soon be no bigger than the dime. xiv. kristiania to stockholm--a wedding party--differing norsk and swede. stockholm, sweden, _september , _. we came over here night before last from kristiania, by the night train; by _sovevogn_ (sleep-wagon), the first i have tried in europe. we traveled first-class and had a compartment to ourselves. about p. m. a porter came in at a way-station, put all our bags out in the corridor, pulled out the round cushions at the back of the seats and put them into the overhead racks; he then pulled out a linen cover with which he overlaid the long seat, and unholed small, wee pillows from a cavity at the end of each seat; the beds were made! later, another man informed me that we could have sheets at one _kroner_ (twenty-seven cents) each; but these we declined. fortunately, we had with us our heavy sea rugs. i put h into my long gray overcoat, did her up in the blanket and rug, and tucked her big golf cape over her. then i put on my blanket smoking jacket, my slippers and cap, rolled up in a blanket and rug, and so we slept comfortably on our narrow seat-beds. there was no heat in the car, and only one toilet room for both sexes! the night was cold and it was with difficulty we managed to keep warm. such is the modern european method of running a sleeping car. [illustration: stockholm.] the train we traveled in was crowded. in our car every compartment was filled. there were two groups of travelers who interested us. the first was a party of americans, a petite elderly woman, keen, lively, very much mistress of herself, evidently accustomed to command, and with her two pretty black-eyed american girls, "pert," "sassy," and used to receiving the homage of man! in their company were half a dozen tall, blond-bearded, blue-eyed viking youths, entirely willing to be commanded and to render homage. they were all in uniform, a dark blue cloth with red facings and a very little gold braid. the blue eyes shot tender glances, we thought, the black ones defending against cupid's darts with great vivacity. each young man presented an enormous bouquet to the elderly woman, and one gave her a basket of fruit--the girls got nothing, only the blue-eye-flashes. and how eagerly the young men promised to call on the elderly woman, if ever they should be so fortunate as to visit new york! and all the while the two american belles laughed and smiled and smote yet deeper through the dark blue uniforms. the departing train almost carried away with us one fair-haired giant. all the military caps came off with sweeping bows, while two handkerchiefs fluttered from the windows. the other group took us by storm and also captured the train. before we knew it, there was a surging crowd outside the car and the roar of many viking throats. and then into the compartment next to ours rushed a pack of ladies, one of them all in white, with a sweet face half hid in a pink satin bonnet. a little man with waxed moustache, curly black hair, wearing a stovepipe hat, and clad in evening dress, followed close behind. the women admitted him, as though by right, but no other man was let inside. it was a wedding party. a wedding in high life. he was a professor at upsala. she was one of kristiania's fairest daughters. they had been married in the fru kirke in the afternoon. she had had a big reception at her home. the friends and guests were now come down to the train to see them off. she was large and fair and rosy, yet in her early twenties. he was small and weazen, shriveled and swarthy. they called him "herr doctor," evidently recognizing his eminent standing. flowers and rice and a white satin slipper were thrown into the window. there was tremendous hugging and kissing of the bride by all the women,--i could not see that here the men had any show,--and pandemonium still prevailed upon the station platform when the train pulled out. later in the night i was awakened by shouts and then most glorious singing. i sat up with a start, the melody pulsing through my brain. the student corps from the university of upsala had come down to the junction where the newly-wedded pair would change cars, to welcome their professor and his bride. they were singing a mighty welcome. and it was such full-toned, full-voiced, perfect and practiced singing by the hundreds of young men who seemed to be on hand! i fell asleep as our train went on, the splendid harmony of the well-trained voices filling me with dreams of realms not far away from paradise. next morning i was about dressed, and h was adjusting her skirt, when the doors, which i thought securely locked, flew open and a burly red-faced uniformed official thrust himself in. he came to take away the pillow cases! he did not seem to think he in any way intruded; privacy is not much respected this side the sea. our toilets were scarcely made when the train came to a stop in the station at stockholm. indeed h was not yet quite ready, when another official in uniform again burst open the door and began grabbing our effects. to his astonishment he was forthwith ejected and the door shut in his face. when we were finally dressed i went out and found him waiting for us on the station platform. he was a licensed porter. we were first obliged to fetch all our belongings to the custom house, where important-looking officials, in gray uniforms trimmed with red, asked perfunctory questions and hurriedly passed us through--an exercise of swedish authority which seemed quite unnecessary since we came direct from norway under the same king. this done, our porter then gathered up our bags and rugs, put them into a little two-wheeled push cart and started out across the square. here again i came near meeting the fate of the tenderfoot. we did not know the location of the hotel continental; i stepped up to a cabby and told him we wanted to be taken to that hotel. a man in uniform gave me a brass check with "no. " marked on it, pointing to a cab standing in a long row which also bore a no. . i handed the brass check to no. cabby, and was putting in my bag when our porter pointed to the farther side of the square. there was our hostelry, not three hundred feet away! i took out my bag from the carriage, in spite of protest, and walked to the hotel. the driver claimed a fare of half a _kroner_ and raised a mighty clamor, but i vowed i would not give him an _oere_. thus you must have your eyes about you when you come to a city you do not know. the continental is a fine hotel. the rooms are supplied with electric lights and with telephones (good ones, not the imperfect london system). we have a large front room, facing the vasa gatan, with dressing room and ante-room, handsomely furnished, and as clean as anything can be. we are fain to be content with the fourth story, although we asked for the tenth, and a new modern elevator takes us up and also down; all this costs only six _kroner_ a day ($ . ) for the two of us. our breakfasts are served in our room, two eggs each, a pot of coffee, boiled milk and cream, a basket of rolls, fresh radishes, cold tongue, cold veal, smoked goose breast, anchovies, cold smoked salmon, cheese, each in a neat little dish by itself, and a big round flat slab of slightly salted butter; all for one and a half _kroner_ each, three _kroner_ for us two (eighty-one cents). you receive much for your money here in scandinavia. [illustration: king's palace, stockholm.] the spirit of stockholm, although intensely scandinavian, is yet widely different from that of either copenhagen or kristiania. it is a difference, not so much to the eye, as to the feeling. the city presents the same substantial and solid types of buildings, there are the same high walls of stone and dark red brick, and sharp-gabled roofs covered with heavy tiles, the same square towers, the same spindly leanness to the steepled churches, and in the older sections the narrow streets are paved from wall to wall with the same big squares of granite. the people are mostly blue-eyed and fair-haired like their kindred danes and norsks. but here the likeness ends and you feel it the instant you pass out upon the street. i missed at once that certain self-containment, based upon unostentatious self-respect, which marks the norsk, where no man knows a lord but god, and manhood suffrage everywhere prevails. i missed that composure of manner and self-assurance to the step, which lets men look you calmly in the eye without offense, that spirit, which takes for granted the perfect equality of man and man. i instantly felt myself among men of another temper. the alert, frank, self-respecting manner of the norsk is lacking in the swede. i found myself again among a "lower class," who have no votes, and treat you with sullen servility, and also among men with the swashbuckling manners of military caste. stockholm is full of young officers in natty uniforms, who strut along the streets aping the braggart insolence one meets among the soldier-bestridden germans. the peasant and townsman must also here step aside to let these yunker soldiery pass on. militarism hangs heavy over stockholm, where the scions of an impecunious aristocracy think to find in dashing uniform and truculent german manner a restoration of the noble military traditions of the past. the norwegian looks out upon the twentieth century and finds his inspiration in the example of free america and the universal equality of man. the swede looks ever backward to the glorious days of gustavus vasa, gustavus adolphus and charles xii, and sighs for a return of the good old times when the half of europe trembled before sweden's military might. the lofty mountains and profound valleys, the savage mystery of fathomless _fjords_, the wondrous immensity of the unknown and illimitable sea, which fired the brain and pricked the energy of the norseman, and made him poet, pirate, explorer and conqueror through a dozen successive centuries, were all unknown to the practical-minded swede. his monotonous forests, his sandy levels and shallow gulfs, his pond-like and insignificant baltic sea, stirred no fibre of his imagination; nor when he crossed those narrow waters and set foot upon the flat and barren shores of germanic and slavic europe, was there anything in their sombre forests and limitless plains and desolate marshes to arouse within him the fire of his soul. war with the flaxen-haired savages, who swarmed upon these lands like myriad wolves, was his only exercise. he sailed up the gulf of bothnia till he entered the arctic wastes where dwelt the laps; he followed the shores of the gulf of finland, and explored the river neva and lake ladoga and connecting streams, and even crossed to the waters of the mighty volga, and entered asia by the caspian sea; he ascended the lesser russian rivers, and pitched fortified camps along their banks, founding revel and riga and novogorod, whence the swedish ruriks gave to the muskovites their earliest czars. he ruled finland and esthonia and livonia and courland, and even begat sigismund, the polish king. for centuries he warred with and ruled these slavic tribes until at last, driven back to his narrow peninsula, the mainland knew him only as defeated and expelled. a practical, unimaginative fighting man was the swede. he loved war for war's own sake, and when he had no longer reason to war for conquest or defense, he clung to pike and sword as permanent substitute for plow and seine, and hired himself to bickering slav and german and grew famous as a "mercenary," who spilled his blood for pay and the plunder of his master's foes. thus have the cousin peoples swung wide apart. the one, free and open-minded; the other, still dazed by the faded glories of a long dead past, turns ever a wistful eye toward the military tyrannies of czar and kaiser, and finds in the inequalities of landed noble and landless yokel, in official and military caste and enthralled peasantry, the realization of his fifteenth century ideal. [illustration: a swedish church.] [illustration: ancient swedish fortress.] thus, as i have wended my way along the vasa and freds gatans and neighboring streets, toward the fine gustaf adolf torg, the chief public square, mixing among the jostling crowds, have i felt keenly the variant atmospheres of these norse and swedish lands, differences which finding their roots in the historical development of the kindred peoples make their present union beneath a single flag and king both artificial and constrained. while on the surface and to the feeling there is apparently wide divergence in political sentiment between the norwegian and swedish peoples, yet there is in reality a closer and closer approachment between them. the democratic notions prevailing in norway already stir the pulse of the swedish peasantry and working classes--the classes which in sweden have no votes. already has the demand for universal suffrage been raised in sweden, and sentiment inimical to aristocracy, yunkerdom and privilege, grows continually more aggressive. an intelligent and aristocratic swede with whom i have discussed this question to-day, admits this rising tide of democracy, and admits, also, though ruefully, that not until universal suffrage shall become established in sweden will it be possible to come to that understanding with the norwegian people on which may be founded a lasting and united scandinavian state. thus in sweden itself, i hear uttered sentiments very nearly akin to those which caught my ear when in copenhagen: the possibility, nay, probability, of a common scandinavian union, when the peoples of denmark and norway and sweden shall federate, and the obsolete system of kingship and privilege shall be set aside. [illustration: a band of swedish horses.] xv. stockholm the venice of the north--life and color of the swedish capital--manners of the people and their king. stockholm, _september , _. while wandering about the city i have not taken a guide. a guide or a courier is to me always a very last resort, but i have followed the movement of the crowd, and enjoyed the being lost in it, immersed in it, becoming one with it, while yet so separate. i could not read the signs, nor understand the speech. i could only see. my vision became my one guiding sense. my eyes became abnormally alert. color and form and action,--i caught them all. and what i saw, my mind held fast. thus i wandered on through many quaint and ancient _gatans_ (streets) past _plats_ and _torgs_ (open squares), and over _bros_ (bridges), and yet i felt secure and well assured that, returning, i should find my way safely back. i knew each corner of a street, each square, each unusual sign, each building of strange design, even as at home i have often wandered alone among the wild mountains and forests with nothing for a guide but my eyes, the sun, and my knowledge of moss and tree. thus has my early training always served me well in foreign lands and cities, where speech was strange, and i myself unknowing and unknown. [illustration: the shore of lake maelaren, stockholm.] my first quest was a bookstore, a map, and an english or french or german-worded guide book, which would tell me of what i saw. by great good luck, i happened immediately upon the object of my search. i saw a window holding maps. i entered a small shop, and found it the "bureau" of the "national tourists' union," with german spoken perfectly. this bureau is maintained by the enterprising citizens of stockholm, and for most moderate cost gives information to tourists, and publishes a series of fine maps, showing every road and lake and mountain and town and inn in sweden. i bought a set of the maps and one in particular of the city. thus fortified i was now perfectly equipped. our few days' sojourn in stockholm has taught me to like the swede, although he is quite lacking in the hearty frankness of the norsk. stockholm has always been a spot where men have congregated, and has been a city known as such these last eight centuries, ever since birger jarl made it the seat of his pirate power. it holds the passage between the lakes maelaren, which stretch far inland and now form the eastern section of the great gotta system of canals reaching across sweden to the kattegat and atlantic ocean, and the deeply indented waters of the baltic sea, thus being a natural place of rendezvous and commerce; it was a place easy of access before men had roads and mostly traveled by boats. here the kings of sweden have always set their capital, and the history of stockholm is the history of the swede himself. in past ages, disorders and massacres and open murders have drenched with blood her streets and her great public squares, and stockholm's dungeons have their tales of horror and wickedness to tell. she was cruel and turbulent when sweden herself was harsh and savage, she is now equally serene and contented under the liberal rule of enlightened king oscar ii, and is become one of the best-ordered and most beautiful cities of the world. by reason of the many islands within her limits, she is called the "venice of the north," and by reason of her cleanliness, the substantial character of her modern buildings, and the efficiency of her municipal government she is termed the "edinburgh of the baltic." stockholm is more scientifically advanced, and more modernly wide-awake than are the german and english cities of to-day. she has a fine and bountiful water supply, an elaborate and efficient telephone system, and is probably more thoroughly and effectively illuminated by electricity than any city in europe. the older quarters of the city are well paved and scrupulously clean; in the newer sections are blocks of stately buildings of modern design, and wide boulevards and avenues paved with asphalt and squares of stone. her public buildings, her numerous _plats_ and _torgs_ and lovely parks are all exquisitely kept. we spent one delightful morning crossing the wide stone bridge of norrbro, and viewing the royal palace, the state apartments, and royal library, and the fine old church of riddarsholm, which is the westminster abbey of sweden, her pantheon, where lie entombed the bones of gustavus adolphus and the ashes of charles xii, and members of the house of vasa, along with other illustrious swedes. the old church is of red brick, topped by a curious wrought-iron steeple, and is the shrine to which come all patriotic swedes, there to contemplate the departed glories of their fatherland. [illustration: the cathedral of riddarsholm.] of an afternoon, we visited the famous djurgaard (deer park) and then went on to the park called skansen, where are gathered a most interesting collection illustrative of the ancient swedish way of living, as well as examples of the ancient industries, exemplified by charming lively peasant girls clad in their divers provincial costumes. we then also climbed the tower set upon the hill, whence spread out before us a superb vista of the city and its many islands and surrounding waters, and wide-sweeping woods and forests. we also crossed among the islands upon dapper electric launches which ferry between, and then came back to dine in a fashionable restaurant under the grand hotel near the quay, where were small tables, and where sat men in dress coats and handsome women in evening dress--generally high-necked--and we were given fresh strawberries--this september th--and savory mutton chops and fresh-grown peas, and fruits and ices. the streets at all hours of the day and evening were astir and gay. the many officers in blue and gray uniforms, patterned after the german styles, the dalecarlian girls in their picturesque bright barred aprons and braided hair, carrying packages and bundles--the messenger boys of the north--the blue-eyed and yellow-haired men and women neatly and soberly clad, and the absence of all beggars--we did not come across a single one,--the multitude of boats, great and small, constantly moving rapidly up and down and across the many lanes of water, all these gave animation to the city. the streets of stockholm are filled with women, more like the german towns, while, just as there, scores of sturdy men stand idly around decked out in soldier's uniform. rosy-cheeked young women wait upon you in the restaurants; women armed with big brooms sweep at the crossings; women come in from the country driving carts loaded with produce of the farm; and women also largely "man" the small boats that ply along the waters between the islands. woman is here as greatly in evidence as she is in boston, but of a huskier, heartier type. visiting the markets, i found a great profusion of strawberries, whortleberries, blueberries and others i did not know, and withal, most of the vegetables my kanawha garden would yield in june. these fruits of tree and soil are brought into the city by chunky native horses hitched to little two-wheeled carts, which horses, when they reach their destination, are securely halted by a strap or line passed around their two fore fetlocks, tying the feet tight together, a treatment an american horse would scarcely endure. [illustration: norrbro, stockholm.] another day h and i wandered across the norrbro and beyond the palace and down near the storkyrko brink, and discovered a curious little coffeehouse, tucked away up a flight of creaking stairs, in an ancient building which seemed to be a counting-house below and offices above. here were set against the walls little mahogany tables holding three and four, where plates were laid without a cloth, and ale and beer were served in tall pewter mugs. we called for the foaming brown brew and asked for _roed spoette_, our old danish joy, and lunched delightfully. the room was filled with big, burly, red-cheeked men, merchants and sea captains, h thought, from what bits of conversation she could pick up. a most substantial company they were, who evidently came here to strike weighty bargains as well as to eat and drink and smoke. we were doubtless lunching in a well-known and most ancient rendezvous, much like the historic grill room i discovered in london, called "toms," where dickens' and mr. pickwick's chairs are shown to the visitor, and the waiter will inform you on just what sort of kidney broil and roasted sausage each made his daily meal. stockholm divides with copenhagen the honors of being the metropolis of the scandinavian world, boldly asserting her superiority over kristiania, for she is the larger city. she is easily first in sweden in all save scholarship and learning--in that, upsala, the cornell and harvard of the north, holds unrivaled lead. the fine stores and shops, along such streets as the dronning gatan and regerings gatan and adjacent thoroughfares, h declares quite equal to those of copenhagen; while in an ancient and narrow alleyway she discovered a perfect mint of embroideries and linens, articles of feminine apparel which rejoice her heart. on our last evening we attended the royal opera, occupying a box quite to ourselves, where we heard good singing and well-rendered music by the royal band, beheld a fashionably-dressed and intelligent-looking audience, and were stared at by old king oscar who sat rigid in his box, and glared at us with a mighty black opera-glass until he had studied each feature of the stranger guests, and by his persistence thereby directed upon us the curiosity of every other pair of opera glasses in the house. the example of the king was quite in accordance with continental custom, where the glare of opera-glasses is astonishingly bold. nor does the impudent stare stop at that, but in stockholm, just as in paris and berlin, between the acts very many of the men rise up, put on their hats, turn their backs to the stage, and deliberately focus their glasses upon the faces of every attractive woman in the theater, no matter how near she may be, nor how annoying this treatment may appear; and often two or three young men will then compare notes, and unite in a common stare, bold and insolent. to avoid this unpleasant ordeal, ladies very generally rise from their seats, leave the theater and promenade in the foyers until the curtain rises and the impudent glasses are put down. we have secured tickets and berths for the voyage to st. petersburg across the baltic sea and gulf of finland. we sail to-night, and are to arrive on tuesday morning, a voyage of three nights and two days, a distance of six hundred miles. we have now visited the three capitals of scandinavia, copenhagen, kristiania and stockholm, and have spent a month among these kindred peoples. while i had learned in america to esteem the vigor, the intelligence and the worth of our scandinavian immigration, no finer race contributing to the citizenship of the republic, yet it has been only when i have met the dane and norsk and swede upon their native soil, and beheld their noble cities, so alert and clean and modern, and traversed their hills and valleys, and climbed their mountain heights and floated upon their _fjords_, that i have learned fitly to admire and appreciate the grandeur and greatness of scandinavia. xvi. how we entered russia--the passport system--difficult to get into russia and more difficult to get out. st. petersburg, russia, _september , _. it is not easy to get into russia; it is yet more difficult to get out. before leaving the united states, i had taken due precautions and secured a passport from the state department, signed by secretary hay, with the great seal of the united states upon it. in that passport i was described. i had also provided myself with a special letter from the state department, in which all consuls and officials of the united states in foreign lands had been bidden to pay particular heed to my welfare, for i was vouched for as a worthy and respected citizen of the republic. i presumed that, armed with these credentials, i should find all doors and gateways open to my passage. i assumed that the autocracy of the russian empire would be delighted to welcome a citizen of the great republic, so well accredited. imagine my surprise, when i presented myself at the ticket office of the russian steamship line, by which we would travel to st. petersburg, and was refused a ticket because i did not then have my passport in hand, so that the ticket-seller might duly scrutinize it! an hour later, when i again presented myself with the passport and laid down the coin, i was a second time refused. the passport had not been certified by the american minister in stockholm, our port of departure, nor had it been _viséed_ by the russian consul general of the port. i immediately drove to the american ministry, a mile away, where the swedish clerk endorsed my passport as being genuine, and gave me a note to the russian official. a drive of another mile brought me to a tall stone building, above the door of which reposed the imperial eagle. ascending two flights of stairs, i was shown into a small ante-room, and, after waiting some time, was ushered into a large, well-lighted chamber, where a big, round-headed, bearded man, in russian uniform, sat at a long table. he was writing. he did not deign to look up. after standing some moments before this important personage, i called his attention in my best french, to the fact that i was there. still he made no reply, but kept on writing. i noticed that he was nearly to the bottom of the page; when he had finished it, he looked up and inquired in german what i wanted. i replied in german that i called upon him to have my passport _viséed_, and handed him the document and the note. he read the latter and looked at the former, but the description of my person was in english and he was evidently stumped. he gazed at me and the paper, took up a metal stamp, pressed it on an ink pad, made on the passport the imprint of some russian characters, signed his name to them, and advised me that i was his debtor to the extent of twenty _kroners_ (about five dollars). he then turned again to his writing. i had thus spent three hours in driving about the city, visiting these officials, and now hurried to the steamship office, where on presenting my passport duly _viséed_, i at last obtained the tickets. upon boarding the ship, at a later hour, we were notified to call at the captain's office and surrender our passports, which were then once more verified, along with our tickets, before we cast off from the pier. we left stockholm about eight o'clock in the evening. we were a party of four,--h and myself, and the two delightful friends whom we met that day at maristuen, at the head of the laera dal, in norway. the suggestions then first made had ripened into a definite plan, and we agreed to join forces for our journey through russia. our friends were mr. and mrs. condit, of chicago, and we found their ready western wit and genial fellowship on more than one occasion of most signal aid. we crossed the baltic sea in the night, and touched at the russian port of hangoe, in finland, early sunday morning. here i noticed a messenger in uniform leave the ship bearing a long iron box heavily padlocked, and was informed that this box contained the passports of the passengers, which he was to take to st. petersburg by a special imperial train that would put him there in twenty-three hours, when the passports would be immediately filed with the police department, verified, recorded and given to certain other officials who would meet our ship on its arrival at the mouth of the river neva on tuesday morning, and who would examine and scrutinize us and then return them to us. if in the meantime, we should happen to change our minds and want to remain a few days in finland, say at helsingfors, we would be liable to arrest for not having our passports now gone to st. petersburg. we might not change our minds or alter our itinerary. it was now st. petersburg or jail. the twilight was just fading into night when we cast off from the pier and slowly made our way among the islands. the sail down the narrow channel to the sea was in the light of the full moon. the myriad electric lights of the city were blazing behind us. we passed the black hulls of many vessels anchored in the harbor, and in turn were passed by scores of little boats, with a big light on the foremast, which were scurrying about carrying passengers between the islands. along the wooded shores were villas and country-seats, and ever and anon, there seemed to be open clearings and farms, and then we came into the blackness of wide waters. we were out upon the baltic sea. in the morning we were among more islands; the aaland archipelago; we had had only two hours of the open sea. the sun was behind a mass of scudding clouds, gray and threatening; and great banks of blacker clouds were rolling up from the south. a gale was blowing--a furious gale--which drove the waters and whirling foam wherever open space allowed. the wind was bitterly cold, and grew ever colder, while higher and higher rose the tempest. we were in great danger, although at the time i did not know it. the steering of the swedish pilots was skillful, and the little ship obeyed the helm perfectly, swinging round sharp points, and traversing narrow channels where, even in quiet waters, it is dangerous to navigate. about noon we slipped in between two rocky islets, scarcely a cable-tow's length apart, rising only a few feet above the level of the sea, and turning sharp to port came into the rock-bound harbor of hangoe, a town of finland, whence the railway goes on to helsingfors and st. petersburg. the gale now grew into a tornado with deluges of rain, a storm so fierce that, until it should subside, the captain refused to leave the protection of the port. thus we lay-to at hangoe until the dawn of the following day, when we cast off from the long pier and plunged once more among the islands of the archipelago. hundreds of islands there were, barren and uninhabited, the big ones covered with dwarf birches, a few stunted pines and firs, the lesser islets thick with tangled grasses, or more often bare of all except lichens and gray moss, the vegetation of a desolate, wintry latitude. [illustration: facing the gale.] the wind was now somewhat abated, but not so the sea. it was angry, stirred to its depths. it was a bad day for a landsman,--a bad day even for an old salt. two stalwart seamen stood ever at the wheel in addition to the pilot and our captain, and it took all their combined strength and skill to save us from certain wreck. the conflicting currents churned and swirled with maelstrom violence, while we crept steadily on among the shoals and sunken bars and hidden reefs. it was long past noon when we swung round a bold rocky point, and saw before us finland's capital, helsingfors. the city surrounds the harbor much like a crescent. on either horn, granite promontories jut out into the sea, where are fortifications, one of them the formidable fortress of sveaborg, where we could see brown-coated cossacks gathered in large numbers watching our entrance to the port. a great garrison there seemed to be, and everywhere floated the russian flag,--parallel stripes of white, blue and red. russian troops not merely man all these fortifications, but there are also soldiers within the city itself, and more are quartered in every village of consequence in finland. the ancient senate and house of chevaliers are no longer permitted to enact the laws. a russian governor-general issues his ukases, which the russian bayonets are here savagely to enforce. all this you already know, but it comes vividly upon one when you see the cossack, clad in his long kaftan-like military coat, everywhere about you visible evidence of how harshly finland has been stripped of her rights and liberties. helsingfors astonished us. lying upon a rising slope, it presents an imposing outline from the sea. it is a city of ninety-six thousand people. we were not prepared for so large and substantial a city. it has well-kept parks, well-paved streets, frequently asphalted as in stockholm, and blocks of big granite buildings five and six stories high; the city is clean, and the streets are alive with well-dressed, rosy-cheeked, vigorous people. everywhere there are electric tram-cars and electric lights, and on the broad thoroughfares are large and handsome shops. it is evident that in the finnish hinterlands there is an extensive and well-to-do population. our ship was to lie at her pier for several hours, and the passengers were told that they might safely visit the town; if arrested for not having passports, we might refer to the captain of the ship. so we wandered up along the quays, following a wide boulevard. everywhere on the sidewalks and driving through the streets were russian officials in their long gray coats and flat black caps; there were also many soldiers upon the streets. finland was once a province of sweden, and the teutonic swedish language is yet that of the educated classes, who are chiefly of swedish descent. in the country, however, and among the working classes, there remains the original population of primitive finnish race, "the old finns," cousins to the hungarians, and these have a turanian language of their own. they have accepted for centuries the swedish rule and fraternized with the swedish leaders, but have held to their ancient tongue. now is also the slavonic russian speech, by ukase, commanded to be the language of the schools, of the courts and of the government. thus the finlander must be acquainted with three fundamentally different tongues, and all of the streets of helsingfors are named in the three languages on the same placard. the russian name is in greek text, then in latin text the swedish name, and under that the native finnish name; thus there is much babel of tongues in helsingfors, while all the finlanders bitterly resent the brutal attempt to substitute the russian for their own. [illustration: fishing boats along the quay, helsingfors.] [illustration: the pier, helsingfors.] finland has, also, heretofore been privileged to coin her own money,--but now the russian _ruble_ is supreme. we had boarded a tram-car, as modern and comfortable as those of new york, and were whirling along the boulevard, when we tendered the conductor our fare in russian coin (we had provided ourselves with "_kopeeks_" and _rubles_ before leaving stockholm), but he declined to take the money. he was about to stop the car and put us off, when a courtly-mannered finn, addressing the passengers as well as the conductor, explained that, under the present laws, russian money must be taken when tendered, and that we were entitled to ride,--so h tells me, who understood his speech, so much is it like the danish. but the conductor, patriot that he was, refused to touch the _ruble_ i offered him, preferring to let us ride without making charge. if i had been able to do so, i would have explained to our fellow-passengers that i intended no insult, and would thus probably have restored myself to their confidence. as it was they glowered at me as a friend of hated russia. we visited the splendid parliament buildings, where the finnish senate and house of chevaliers have been wont to meet,--now closed forever by the ukase of the czar. i understand, also, that the finnish judges have recently been deposed from the courts, and russians appointed in their stead; and we were told by a friendly finn that so completely are the people terrorized, that no patriot dare give open evidence of opposition to the russian rule. one may only detect it by the sullen, disquieted faces of the people one meets upon the streets. in the dour glances cast at the russian officials i saw everywhere expression of hatred and revenge.[ ] [footnote : the reverses of the japanese war, the assassination of governor bobrikoff and threat of revolution have at last frightened the russian autocracy into partially restoring to finland her pillaged liberties.] it was middle afternoon when we set sail again. no other vessel dared leave the port, but our captain, being anxious to reach st. petersburg, decided to venture on the voyage. as soon as we emerged from the protecting barriers of the islands at the harbor's mouth, we came into open waters. a furious sea was running and the ship rolled heavily. she plunged and reared and pitched, until most of the passengers were driven to their staterooms,--indeed, so mad was now the sea that we were told there would be no more hot coffee and hot steak, since the cooks in the kitchen could not keep their legs, nor could dishes be set upon the tipping tables. those who were able to eat might get a snack from the steward, who would hand it out--cold fish and cheese at that. the boat rolled until her gunwales were awash, and frequently the roaring waters swept across the decks. although it was a wild and dangerous night, yet the clouds were parting and the stars were out. no grander panorama of the sea have i looked upon than these mighty foam-capped billows--greater even than our ship,--between which we hid, and on the summits of which we climbed,--the angry, pitch-black waters, the star-lit firmament, and the serene moon shining with fullest splendor. [illustration: the doebln at her pier, helsingfors.] [illustration: market square, helsingfors.] at dawn on tuesday morning, we passed the great naval fortification of kronstadt, and three hours later, after threading our way among fishing boats, were entering the canal which leads from the gulf of finland to the river neva and the city of st. petersburg. south and east of us, behind low shores, the land stretched away green and flat as far as the eye could see, an apparently indefinitely extending plain. only the glint of a gilded oriental dome, the bulbous cupola of a russian village church, lightened here and there the green monotony. then far to the east we saw not one but many domes glittering and flashing in the light of the lifting sun--the gilded towers of the cathedrals and churches of the city of st. petersburg--then we saw a tangle of tall chimneys, then ships and barks and schooners and enormous barges from lake ladoga, and immense docks on either side. we were upon the river neva. we were come to the city of "petersborg," the splendid capital of the russian czars. just as we were entering the canal, a steam-tug came up alongside us and a company of government officials in long gray coats climbed on board. they were the customs inspectors and officers of the police department. the two chief officials seated themselves at a long table. an officer of the ship directed the passengers to form in a queue, and one by one we appeared before the official examiner, while the captain called off our names, reading the list from a little book. when my name was announced a clerk handed one of the officials a passport. it was numbered--my name was upon it--it had been received in st. petersburg from the messenger who left hangoe sunday morning;--it had been filed with the police department; it had been _viséed_; it had been translated into russian, and the official now read over the description to his assistants;--i was scrutinized,--the passport was found correct--the officials so endorsed it and handed it to me. the passenger immediately behind me, seemingly, did not correspond with his passport, and was directed to stand to one side. there were a number of these, who were to have a difficult time with the authorities. our baggage was also examined, but not closely. with the russian official the main thing is the passport, not the baggage. [illustration: a wild sea--leaving helsingfors.] [illustration: fishing boats, mouth of river neva.] we were now arrived at the pier and were ready to go ashore. two sailors carried our small steamer trunk upon the wharf, and we were in st. petersburg. instantly we were surrounded by a howling mob of bearded, blond-headed, dressing-gown-coated men, clamoring for our fares. they were _izvostchiks_ in their native _kaftans_. i beckoned to one of them, and pointed to our trunk. he lifted it to his shoulder and led us to his _droschky_,--a diminutive open vehicle, much like a small sledge on wheels. we entered it and in a moment were galloping through the streets of the city, the driver constantly shouting to his horse and yelling to all foot-farers to get out of the way. i gave him the name of our destination, hotel de l'europe. he seemed to comprehend my meaning, and never drew rein until we stopped before the imposing entrance of that hostelry. we were in russia. we had run the gauntlet of the border,--our passports had been sufficient, and we were at last safely within the dominions of the czar. would it be as difficult to get out? xvii. st. petersburg--the great wealth of the few--the bitter poverty of the many--conditions similar to those preceding the french revolution.[ ] [footnote : these letters were written in the early autumn of the year, , and present a glimpse of russia as it then appeared.] grand hotel de l'europe, st. petersburg, russia, _september (n. s.), _. so much has been jammed into the last two days that my pen is like to burst. splendor and squalor, the glitter of twentieth century civilization, the sombre shadow of barbarism, are here entwined in inextricable comminglement. the city is filled with stately buildings of gigantic and imposing dimensions; with wide, straight boulevards and streets. the sidewalks and _droschkies_ are gay with the dashing and gaudy uniforms of innumerable soldiery, and the fine dresses of elegant women. yet many of these great buildings are in ill repair, and what you at first imagine to be magnificent stone, reveals itself to be a stucco of rotting wood and crumbling plaster; the broad thoroughfares are abominably paved, and pitifully cared for by abject wretches wielding dilapidated birch-stick brooms. [illustration: entering the neva.] [illustration: along the neva.] the superb horses--stallions, all of them--whirl past, driven by _izvostchiks_ in dirty, truncated plug-hats and blue dressing-gown-like _kaftans_, whose sodden faces tell of _vodka_ and hopeless haplessness. beggars swarm (frightful creatures), and the faces of the officers, fine big men in striking uniforms, are dissipated, hard and cruel. we are in a huge hotel. big men in uniform open the door; big men in livery fill the halls; the rooms are big, ours is immense, with double windows, it is steam-heated, and also has hearth fires of burning wood. the building is warmed all through, even the halls. there are french waiters in the big dining-rooms; there is delicious food and delightful coffee, whose aroma is very perfume of the orient; the beefsteaks are juicy, thick and tender. we have had no such meals since leaving america. on each story there is an elaborate bar for serving _vodka_ (a fierce white whisky distilled from wheat) and drinks to the guests of that particular floor, and a single bath room, and a single diminutive toilet for both sexes' common use. the moment we set foot within the doorway of the hotel, up stepped an official, in blue and gold, and demanded our passports, and we were requested also to sign a paper like the one enclosed, viz.: notice to the police. family and christian where is your passport? name: signature: profession: please order your passport age: two days before leaving confession: russia. arrived from .......... this to be at once filed with the police department, and the passport not to be given back until we should notify the same big official,--whose duty it was to stay right there and watch all guests of that hotel, and who must be notified twenty-four hours before we leave the city,--when he will return the passport two hours before the said time set, and give it to me only upon my paying him the government fee of ten _rubles_ (five dollars) in good yellow gold.[ ] and right outside the door of our apartments, seated at a little table, are two officials, pen and paper in hand, who set down the hour and the minute of the day we enter and come out. they were there when we went to breakfast; they, or others as fox-jowled and lynx-eyed, were also there when we returned from the theater late at night, and they are there all through the day. our swedish guide, who does the duties of courier and shows us about the great city, is also registered at the police department, and he has to hand in every night a written report of what he has done with us all through the day, where we have gone, what we have seen, and we suspect even what we may have said. on the streets, big sword-begirded policemen stand at the intersections of the ways, pull out a little book from their pockets and make note of our passing that particular spot at that certain hour; at night these reports also are handed in to the central police office to be checked up against the statements of the guide and the spies at the hotel. [footnote : i have subsequently learned that the legal fee is about three _rubles_ ($ . ), the charge of ten _rubles_ being impudent graft.] [illustration: along the nevsky-prospekt.] [illustration: our droschky, st. petersburg.] we are in the capital city of the mighty russian empire; in the capital created by peter the great amidst and upon the marshy delta of the river neva; a city of more than a million inhabitants; a city spread out over vast distances; a city whose disproportionately wide streets and boulevards are paved with wood, wood that is rotting all the while, leaving big holes into which a horse, a team, may plunge and disappear, because only wood will float upon the marshy mire of the mucky islets, and stone and brick will eventually sink from sight; a city whose top-heavy palaces and public edifices are so treacherously set upon the sands that they must constantly undergo costly repairs; a city builded upon foundations so unstable that the springtime floods of the river neva ever threaten permanently to wipe out its very existence; a city where the palaces of the always widening circle of the imperial princes of the blood, and of the upper nobility, and of the great bureaucratic chiefs, are builded with an arrogance of dimension, an elaborateness of design, a lavishness of cost that beats anything an american billionaire has ever tried to do, or dreamed of doing in san francisco or new york; and yet a city abounding in the mean, small, log and wooden cabins of the very poor; a city where penury and poverty and dire pinch protrude their squalid presence in continual tragic protest against the flaunted and wanton riot of unmeasured wealth, possessed by the very few. this morning as i walked upon the nevsky prospekt, the broadway of the imperial capital, and watched the movement of mankind along the way, and beheld the extraordinary contrasts between those who walked and those who rode; as i saw the burly policeman arrest the shabby foot-farer for nearly being run down, while he let the haughty grandee drive freely on; as i beheld poverty and wealth in such flagrant contrast, and realized that a standing army is kept ever armed and girt to protect and uphold the privilege and security of the rich; as i beheld the surly, sour, sombre faces of those who wore no gaudy covering of broadcloth and gold lace, my fancy harked back to the time, somewhat more than a century ago, when the king and nobles of france drove through the rues of paris in all their glittering splendor, trampling down in their pride of power the pedestrian who failed to escape from their sudden approach. how secure they felt in their arrogant enjoyment of prerogative and rank! how contemptuously they disdained the humble claims of the glitter-proletarian, of the peasant on the land! louis xiv had cried "_l'etat c'est moi._" was that not enough! and yet, i had stood in the place de la concorde, almost on the very spot where, inspired by the hatred of the sansculottes, mademoiselle la guillotine had bit off the dull head of louis xvi, and cut through the fair throat of marie antoinette. it may be possible for russia and her governing men, her bureaucratic autocracy, yet a little while to postpone the fateful hour. by means of foreign wars it may be possible to play the old game of diverting the public mind from its own bitter ills; by promises of fair and liberal dealing it may be possible to calm the public mind--cajole it until the promises are duly broken, as is invariably the case. whatever fair-speaking and fat-feeding officialdom may to the contrary assert, the impression i gain amidst all this splendor and pomp and glare of supreme, concentered power of the few is that, beneath this opulent exterior, deep down in the hearts and even below the conscious working of their minds, there to-day abides among the masses of the russian people--who after all hold in their hands the final power--a profound and monstrous discontent: a discontent so deep-rooted and so intense that when the inevitable hour strikes, as strike it must, the world will then behold in russia a saturnalia of blood and tears, a squaring of ten centuries' accounts, more fraught with human anguish and human joy than ever dreamed a marat and a robespierre, more direful and more glad than yet mankind have known. we drove about the city like grandees. our _landau_ was just such as russian nobles like best to use; our splendid pair of sorrel stallions pranced upon their heels and neighed and ran just as all nobles' horses should; and our well-distended driver, of enormous and deftly-padded girth, sat belted with a big embroidered band, and guided the horses he never dreamed to hold, and helloed loudly to those who did not fly out of the way, just as would any driver of the blood! we almost ran over some slow-moving man or woman, foot-weary wretch, at every crossing of a street! many palaces and public buildings we visited--enormous edifices, all of them, with innumerable and extensive halls and immense chambers finished in gold and alabaster and gaudy hues, with countless servants and lackeys in livery and lace, gold lace, to care for them, and watch over them, and fatten upon a government graft or easy-gotten fee. suites of enormous apartments they were, which are never used and never are likely to be used. the paintings of the great masters collected in the galleries of the hermitage and winter palaces, accumulated by the czars, are among the most renowned in europe. the reception halls and audience chambers and ballrooms and dining halls of these palaces are designed and intended to dazzle and impress whosoever are given the chance of beholding them. at the same time, the library and study of the late czar, alexander iii, is a small and plainly furnished room, with the atmosphere and markings of a man of simple tastes, who laboriously worked, worked as no other official of the bureaucracy in russia pretends to work. [illustration: our squealing stallions.] [illustration: cathedral of our lady of kazan.] we traversed the suites of apartments used by the imperial family, when sojourning in st. petersburg during those portions of the winter season when the court there gathers, and we noted the outer guardrooms where night and day stand the faithful watchers with sleepless vigil, and we realized, perhaps for the first time, that this man, so steeped in power, is after all but a prisoner of the system which locks him in and binds him fast and robs him of that independence of action which you and i enjoy. he is become but a creature of the great machine that governs, a slave of the system which peter the great set up for the furtherance of his imperial will, a system of government which has so developed and spread out that to-day the czar of all the russias is merely the puppet of its will, the tool of the greedy, grasping, intriguing, governing bureaucracy. on approaching the city, our straining eyes first caught sight of the gilded, glittering domes and spires of the great cathedrals and churches with which it is so abundantly supplied. the domes of st. isaac, of our lady of kazan, of alexander nevsky, and the spires of st. peter and st. paul, each and all told us that whatever else we might discover, we were yet entering a city and a land where the people counted not the cost of the splendid housing of their faith. and so we have found it. the wealth of gold and of silver, of precious stones and of priceless stuffs with which these churches are adorned and crammed, excels anything of which the western brain has ever dreamed. each great church is famed and honored for its particular beneficence, its peculiar holiness, and to each one comes in procession perpetual an innumerable throng to pray and worship and to receive the blessings flowing from that especial fane. even in the ancient log cabin, said to be the actual house erected by peter himself, is established a shrine, where priests continuously intone the beautiful service of the russian church and where thousands of devoted worshipers swarm in and out all the day long, and the night as well, praying to imperial peter's now sainted ghost. in the noble chamber of the golden-spired cathedral of st. peter and st. paul lie the white marble tombs of the romanoffs, where is also kept up throughout the day and night yet another sumptuous service for the repose of the souls of the illustrious dead. in the great monastery of alexander nevsky is each day maintained a simple and splendid choral service which multitudes attend, and where the melancholy gregorian chanting and intoning of the black-robed long-bearded monks reveal new organ stops in the human voice. naturally, an american has great sympathy for the russian people who have so little, while he has so much. in america we send our girls and boys to school as a matter of course. here in the ornate center of autocracy, i have seen no building that i recognized as a common school, nor in russia is there such a system, as we know it. [illustration: our izvostchik.] to the western mind three things stand out above all else in russia: ( ) the concentrated wealth and privilege of the few--the big grafters who have seized it all. ( ) the opulence and extraordinary power of that ecclesiastical organization, the "holy orthodox church" itself an engine of the autocratic rule,--used to cover atrocious authority with gilded cassock and priestly cope. ( ) the profound poverty and hopeless subserviency of the russian people--those who are robbed and ruined by the grafters and hoodooed by the church. xviii. en route to moscow--under military guard--suspected of designs on life of the czar. moscow, russia, _september , , p. m._ we took the imperial mail train as determined. foreign travelers generally journey by the night express, which arrives at moscow only an hour behind the imperial mail, but it leaves st. petersburg at so late an hour that there is little chance to see the country traversed. we made up our minds to take the more democratic train, which goes in the middle afternoon and stops at all way-stations. this would give us an opportunity to see more of the people as well as a longer season of daylight to watch the passing panorama of the land. we knew no reason why we should not take the train of our choice. it was true that our guide urged us to go by the night express. it was also true, when i presented my passport to the ticket agent at the railway station, the day before, and requested tickets, that he advised us to make the journey by the night express, nor would he at first agree to sell us tickets by the imperial mail, but told us to come back again two hours later, when he would let us know whether there were any berths unsold in the train's through sleeper. it was also true that when we returned, he again advised us to take the night express. but our minds were made up, and we at last secured the tickets we wanted, and became entitled to an entire stateroom upon a designated car. [illustration: our landau, st. petersburg.] when we left the hotel de l'europe, the government official to whom i had returned my passport, after having bought my tickets, emerged from his office, received graciously his ten _rubles_, and again handed me the document; the sundry flunkies in liveries and spies in uniforms obsequiously bowed us out of the establishment, and our very competent guide immediately packed us into several _droschkies_ and galloped us along the nevsky prospekt to the huge government station of the railway running to moscow. the instant our _izvostchiks_ brought their horses to a stop, we were surrounded by a swarm of porters clad in white tunic aprons and flat caps, who seized our bags, and preceded us through the large waiting room to the gates admitting to the train platform. here our tickets were scrutinized, and a group of uniformed officials, who seemed to be awaiting us, informed us that the car in which our stateroom had been sold being already filled, another stateroom in another car was placed at our disposal. they then led the way to the front of the long train, and showed us into a large combined sleeper-and-chair car immediately back of the engine. several soldiers were standing guard near by. we were evidently expected and were especially provided for. we almost had the car to ourselves. the only other passengers were a russian officer and his orderly. we were at the head of a train made up mostly of mail cars locked and sealed, having at the rear several passenger coaches. but we were separated from all these latter, and we seemed to be objects of unusual interest. many strange faces flattened against our windows, peering in at us, and the orderly locked up with us never took his eyes away from us. this did not annoy me, however, for i presumed he was admiring the beauty of our american women. the train was a long one,--and such huge cars. the russian gauge is five feet, the cars are long, and half as big and wide again as are the american cars, and are heated by steam, having double windows prepared against the cold. we had secured a whole compartment in which the two seats, facing each other, pull out and the backs lift up, making four berths, two lower, two upper, placed cross-wise. you pay one _ruble_ (fifty cents) for blankets, sheets and towels. we put h and mrs. c in the lower berths. mr. c and i took the uppers. the car had only two more staterooms, one on each side of our own, and then a large drawing-room with reclining chairs. the stateroom ahead of us was occupied by the officer; his orderly slept on a chair in the salon. in the stateroom behind us were two railway guards. after we entered the car, the door was closed and locked by an official who stood on the outside. the officer and his orderly were locked in with us. our trunk was checked through to moscow by the guide, very much as we would have done it at home. he gave me the check, and i paid him his last _pourboire_ before we entered. this was the only daily local train going southeastward, and whoever would leave st. petersburg for the way stations must travel by it. [illustration: a noble's troika.] [illustration: the railway porters, st. petersburg.] our first impression, after leaving the city, was that of the flatness and the vacantness of the land; the landscape was marked here and there with insignificant timber, birches, firs and wide reaches of tangled grasses, and seemed uninhabited. there were no sheep, no hogs, no goats. occasionally we saw herds of cattle and some horses, but very little tillage anywhere. the few houses, mostly low built, were of small-sized logs, or slabs. towns and villages were few and far apart. in the towns were rambling wooden buildings, all just alike; in the villages were log and wooden cabins, scattered along a single wide street, and these streets were deep mud and mire from door to door. here and there was a wooden church painted green, with onion-shaped steeple gilded or painted white, but there were no schoolhouses anywhere. at all the railroad stations were many soldiers, and dull-looking, shock-headed peasants, men clad in sheepskin overcoats with the wool inside, and women in short skirts wearing men's boots, or with their legs wrapped in dirty cotton cloth tied on with strings, their feet bound up in twisted straw. it was a desolate, monotonous, dreary, sombre land. we saw no smiling faces anywhere, but always were the corners of the mouth drawn down. now and then we passed a large town, with a commodious, well-built station of brick and stone. here and there we saw huge factories and mills, all belonging to the government of the czar. we stopped at lubin for supper. the guard unlocked our car, opened the door and pointed to the station, where we found a monster eatingroom with huge lunch counters on either side and long rows of tables down the middle. everybody was standing up; there were no seats anywhere. hot soft drinks were served at the side counters and smoking coffee and tall glasses of hot, clear tea. the russian swallows only hot drinks and eats only hot foods. on the center tables, set above spirit lamps, were hot dishes with big metal covers. there were glasses of hot drink for a few _kopeeks_, which the russian pours down all at once. taking a plate from a pile standing ready, you help yourself to what victuals you choose. there were hot doughnuts with hashed meat inside, hot apple dumplings, hot juicy steaks, hot stews, hot fish; all _h-o-t_. when you have eaten your fill, you pay your bill at a counter near the entrance, according to your own reckoning. the russian is honest in little things, and nobody doubts your word or questions the correctness of your payment. the eatingroom was full of big, tall, robust, fair-haired, blue-eyed men and a few women. the russian is big himself, he likes big things, he thinks on big lines, he sees with wide vision, too wide almost to be practical. hanging around the station were groups of unkempt, dirty peasants. we see such groups of gaping peasants at every station, always a hopeless look of "don't care" in their eyes. the train ran smoothly and we slept well. all russian cars are set on trucks, american fashion, and there is no jarring and bouncing as in england's truckless carriages. we traveled over an almost straight roadway, traversing the valdai hills, the brooks and rivulets of which, uniting, give rise to the mighty volga, and crossing the river passed through the city of tver during the night. it was just daylight when i awoke. i at once arose, and then waked mr. c and afterward we aroused the ladies. a different military officer and a different orderly were now traveling in our car. the officer seemed to have kept vigil in the compartment ahead of our own. when i came out of the stateroom, he was standing smoking a cigarette in the aisle just outside our door. when i went to the toilet-room he followed me and then returned to the door of our stateroom. he watched us all, even standing guard at the door of the toilet-room when occupied by the ladies. we were evidently in his charge. later, i made acquaintance with him, accosting him in german, to which he readily replied. he was a medium-sized, wiry man with dark hair and eyes, close-cropped beard and long moustaches. he was a "lieutenant-colonel of infantry," he said. the night before, as we rode along, we noticed many soldiers gathered everywhere at the stations. now there were none, but instead there was a soldier pacing up and down each side of the track, a soldier every sixteen seconds! his gun was on his shoulder. he wore a long brown overcoat reaching to his heels, and a vizored brown cap. at all the bridges there were several soldiers, at each culvert two. after a few miles of soldiers, i commented on this, to me, extraordinary spectacle, and asked the colonel what it meant. "do you not know," he said, "the czar is coming in half an hour? he is returning from the autumn manoeuvers in the south!" presently, we drew in on a siding. i wanted to go out with my kodak and take a snapshot. he said, "_es ist verboten_ (it is forbidden). you cannot go out." he then asked to see my kodak, which he examined with the greatest care, taking it quite apart. he then handed it back to me saying, apologetically, "bombs have been carried in kodak cases, you know." soon we heard the roar of an approaching train. the ladies pressed to the windows. the uniformed attendant stepped up and pulled down the shades right in their faces. i demurred to this and appealed to the colonel, who then directed the guard to raise the curtains, seeming to censure him in russian. the ladies might look. a train of dark purple cars richly gilded flashed by. was it the czar? no! only the court. another train just like the first would follow in half an hour and the czar would be on that. but none of the public might know on which train he would ride. the colonel turned to me and said, "you kill presidents in america. we would protect our czars here! we also have anarchists." [illustration: the holy savior gate. kremlin.] [illustration: our military guard bargaining for apples.] i could not forbear remarking upon the excessive number of men in uniforms, soldiers apparently, i met everywhere in russia, as well as the great expanse of vacant land, saying to him, "you have too many soldiers in russia. you should have fewer men in the army and more men out on the land tilling the soil and supporting themselves. it is unfair to those who work to be compelled to feed so many idle mouths." he answered me frankly. he said, "it is necessary to have these soldiers. the peasants are ignorant. we take their young men and make soldiers and good citizens out of them. the army is a school of instruction; it is there the peasant learns to be loyal and to shoot." and then he said with emphasis, "ah! in america you don't need to learn to shoot, you are like the boers, you all know how to shoot," which view of american dexterity, i, of course, readily acceded to. and when i asked him why it was there were no schools or schoolhouses in all this journey, he replied that it was useless to build schools for the peasant, for he did not wish to learn. he had no desire to improve. "you in america," he said, "are every year receiving the energetic young men of all europe. you are constantly recruiting with the vigor and energy of the world. you can afford to have schools. your people want schools, but the russian people want no schools. they will not learn, they will not change, and no young men ever come to russia. we receive no help from the outside. nobody comes here. nobody. nobody (_niemand, niemand_). we have always the peasant, always the peasant (_immer der bauer_)." and then he asked me about president roosevelt, and inquired whether he would succeed himself for a second term, remarking that "mr. roosevelt was greatly admired by the russian army." "the russian army sees in your president roosevelt a great man," he said, then added, "in france the jews and financiers set up a president, but in america you choose a man who is a man." we became very good friends, and he accepted from me an american cigar, one of a few i had brought along and saved for an emergency. at subsequent stations he allowed me to get out in his company, and even let me take his picture along with some of the other officers who stood about. the czar had passed. the weight of responsibility was off his shoulders, he had discovered no evidence of our being conspirators. he now treated us as friends. he even directed the car attendant to clean from the windows their accumulated dust. during all the early hours of the morning we came through the same flat, desolate, uninhabited country. it was a landscape of profound monotony, with the dark green of the firs, the frosted yellow of the birches, the withering browns of the tangled grasses, the black and sodden soil. even the crows were dressed in melancholy gray. [illustration: cathedral of the assumption, kremlin.] [illustration: along the gostinoi dvor, moscow.] xix. our arrival at moscow--splendor and squalor--enlightenment and superstition--russia asiatic rather than european. moscow, russia, _september , _. it was toward ten o'clock when we drew near the suburbs of moscow, a city of more than a million inhabitants. we saw straggling wooden houses, mostly unpainted, rarely ever more than one story high, and unpaved streets filled with country wagons, not the great two-wheeled carts of france, but long, low, four-wheeled wagons with horses pulling singly, or hitched three and four abreast; and i noted that the thills and traces of these wagons were fastened to the projecting axles of the fore wheels, the pull being thus directly on the axle, so as to lift the wheel out of the ever present mud holes. so universal has become this method of hitching up a wagon that i observed it even used on the vehicles in the cities where the streets are paved. men in high boots and sheepskin coats and felt caps were walking beside the wagons, cracking long whips. the roads appeared to be frightful sloughs of bottomless mire. our train drew into a long, low, brick station, the nicholas depot. the door of the car was unlocked, porters came in and seized our bags, and we followed them. our military escort did not even deign to say good-bye. he was writing up his note book and seemingly preoccupied. the instant we emerged from the station portal we were surrounded by a mob of roaring_izvostchiks_; a pandemonium. we picked out two of the cleaner-looking _droschkies_; the porters who had taken our checks came with the trunks on their shoulders, and we started off for our hotel. although a dozen _izvostchiks_ will wrangle and war for your custom, until you fear for your very life, yet the instant you pick your man, the others retire and peace reigns. there is no attempt to make you change your mind. the sky was overcast, drops of rain were falling, and there had been more rain earlier in the day. the cobble-paved streets were thickly overlaid with mud. surely, they had never been cleaned in a century! moscow is a city of low, one and two story buildings, generally of stone or stucco, but there are many of wood. it is a city full of reek and accumulated filth, and is apparently without sewers, or with sewers badly laid and long ago choked up. it is a city of narrow streets with many turns, and narrow sidewalks or none at all. it is an old city, the ways and alleys and streets of which have grown up as they would. the people we met were ill-clad, unwashed, unkempt, wild-eyed, shock-polled, dull-faced. they were a meaner multitude of men and women than i had ever before set eyes upon. "hotel berlin" we said to our _izvostchiks_. the word "berlin" they seemed to comprehend, and they brought us safely to our destination. it is a comfortable inn, on the rojdestvensky way, kept by a jew, and recommended to us by the swiss concierge of the st. petersburg hotel. "it is the hotel where the drummers go," he said. we had learned long ago that "where the drummers go," is where the best table will be found, for the world over, the drummer loves a knowing cook. so we went to the hotel berlin. we were there received by a little weazen-faced, black-eyed, dried-up man, who spoke in voluble german and broken english. "the police had notified him that we would come!" he said. he told us that "he had once lived in london!"--and declared that his rooms were exactly what we wanted, and his table "the best in moscow." he also confided to us that he was "fortunate in having at hand, immediately at hand, and now at our service, the most skilled and intelligent guide in moscow, who would be delighted to serve us, who was altogether at our disposal and whose charge would be 'only ten _rubles_ a day,' and the guide 'talked english.'" we thanked our host, took the rooms and accepted the guide. we have now been in moscow several days, and the guide has been faithful. he vows he has been twice in chicago. he says he is from hungary and he talks excellent german, but mr. c, who himself hails from chicago, is quite unable to comprehend the english of his speech. only my knowledge of german has saved the guide his _rubles_. moreover, his remembrance of chicago is indistinct, as well as of new york. indeed, his knowledge of america we are fain to believe is altogether hearsay. the nighest he has been to chicago, we surmise, was when a few years ago he "bought astrakhan lamb skins at nijni novo gorod for marshall field & company," whose agent we believe he may really then have been. he is now married to a russian, and it is many years since he has been back to hungary, nor does he have much occasion to talk german or english, except when he is acting as guide to americans. mr. c now and then forgets and attempts to use american speech in conversation with him, when there is entanglement. i am appealed to in german, the difficulty is cleared up, and so we get on. to-day, we have taken a _landau_ and have driven all about the city. just how shall i describe this strange commingling of past and present; of sumptuous splendor and squalor profounder than any seen in st. petersburg; of modern intelligence and mediaeval superstition; this city which contains a gostinnoi dvor, a magnificent building of white stone, extending over many blocks, a bazaar of six thousand shops, with a single steel and glass vaulted roof covering the entire immense series of structures as well as all included streets; this city of beautiful stores, displaying the costliest products of london, of paris and new york; which is lit with electric lights equal to berlin, and provided with a telephone service superior to that of london; this city where right alongside this modern bazaar, the handiwork of chicago builders, stand the towers and ramparts of the ancient kremlin; a city where at every corner of every street, swarm bowing multitudes worshiping before the innumerable eikons. [illustration: begging pilgrims, st. basil.] [illustration: the red square, moscow.] a strange and curious sight it is to see a street packed with people all bowing to a little picture stuck up in the wall. the eikon to the russian is even more important than the czar. he wears a miniature eikon hung about his neck as a sort of amulet. he puts an eikon in his house, in his shop, along his streets, and builds cathedrals and lavishes fortunes to house and adorn them. indeed, russia might be fitly termed the land of the eikon, for there, as nowhere else in all the world, has a simple picture been exalted to become an object of worship. the greek church allows no images. one of the serious causes of the great schism with rome in the eleventh and twelfth centuries was the strict interpretation by the eastern church of the injunction of the ii commandment, "thou shalt make no graven images," wherefore they declared the roman practice rank idolatry, but to the sacred pictures they gave their sanction. these eikons are mostly painted in the monasteries by monks of recognized holy lives. they are paintings of the christ, or of a saint, sometimes the virgin mary and the christ child together, and are often so overlaid with gold and jewels--tens of thousands of dollars worth of jewels--that only the eyes and the face may be seen, the draperies of the person being scrupulously imitated and concealed by the overlaid plates of gold. this afternoon we saw a big, black, hearse-like carriage drawn by six black horses, harnessed three abreast, accompanied by priests, to which all the people took off their hats and bowed and crossed themselves as it passed along. it was an eikon being carried to the death-bed of some penitent, who would be permitted to kiss it before death. sometimes these eikons work miracles and the dying sinner begins to recover so soon as it enters the room. all russians keep eikons in their homes, and generally have one in every room, before which a little candle is kept perpetually burning. and when a russian enters a house, he at once goes to the family eikon and bows and crosses himself before he greets his host. to ignore the eikon would be an unpardonable offense. in st. petersburg we procured a copy of the famous eikon which reposes in the little chapel of the house of peter the great, the portrait of st. alexander nevsky, which peter always carried with him into battle, and to the power of which he attributed the victory of pultova. the beautiful cathedral dedicated to "our lady of kazan," upon the nevsky prospekt, in st. petersburg, was erected in honor of victories brought to russian arms by the miraculous influence of her eikon. the russian lives in an atmosphere of eikons, and it takes a quick eye and an agile hand to doff your hat and properly bow, as the russian always does, whenever you pass by one. [illustration: cathedral of st. basil the blessed, moscow.] in this city of contrasts, in sight of the modern gostinnoi dvor, i must take off my hat in going through a "holy gate," and every man, woman and child i here meet are crossing themselves and bowing as they pass along! in mexico you do not feel so surprised at the superstition of the indian! but these are white men with blue eyes and yellow hair! this is a city which contains so splendid an edifice as the monster cathedral of saint savior, a pile of wonderful beauty, built of white granite, and domed with five gigantic onion-shaped, cross-topped cupolas, all sheathed in plates of solid gold; it is a city which contains four hundred and fifty churches, five hundred chapels, and convents and monasteries, how many i dare not say, all of them begolded and bejeweled inside and out with barbaric emblazonry. and yet it is a city, the streets of which are as ill-paved and as stinking as were london's five hundred years ago; a city where trade and enterprise are throttled by arbitrary and excessive taxation, while the common people have no schools, even as they have no votes. we had just left the imperial palace of the kremlin, the most gorgeous edifice my eyes have ever looked upon, where i had beheld such chambers of gold and precious jewels and priceless tapestry, as one only reads about in the tales of the arabian nights; where the vast hall of st. george in the czar's new palace is plated with gold from floor to ceiling, and the ceiling is altogether of gold; where is gold along the walls, panels of alabaster showing in between, ivory finish and gold, gold and lapis lazuli, gold and emerald malachite, gold in leaf, gold in heavy plate--gold everywhere. we were but the moment come out from this stupendous display of riches. we had just passed through the holy savior gate. our senses were still dazzled with this excess of reckless magnificence, when we found ourselves upon the red square--"red" because of the human blood spilled there in the countless massacres of moscow's citizens by past czars,--amidst the swarming throngs of the abjectly poor; men and women, pinched-faced and hollow-eyed; men and women who toil with patient, dull, dumb hopelessness, and who are thankful to eat black bread through all their lives, who are become mere human brutes! we saw many groups of these, gnawing chunks of the black bread for their dinner with all the zest of famished wolves, while they bowed and crossed themselves incessantly, thanking god that they were indeed alive! the wanton luxury of the rich, the pinching poverty of the poor, so widespread, so universal in russia, appal and shock me upon every hand. what are the political and social conditions which let these things be possible is the query which constantly hammers on my brain! until to-day, i have never understood the light and shadow of roman history, nor what manner of men made up the hosts and hordes of alaric and of attila. here, you see the whole story right upon these streets. we have not only visited the kremlin, its cathedrals and its palaces, its museums and its buildings of note, but we have also stood before and gazed upon that wonder of all churches, the cathedral of st. basil, the weird and gorgeous creation of vassili blagenoi, and lasting monument to the artistic sense of that monster-tyrant, ivan the iv, called the "terrible." in the cathedral of the archangel michael, within the sacred precincts of the kremlin, lie now their coffins side by side, costly coverings of gold-bespangled velvet enshrouding each; a strange example of the equality of death. the story runs: so delighted was ivan with the extraordinary and curious beauty of vassili's creation, that he gave a sumptuous banquet in his honor within the imperial palace and there, lavishly bepraising him before the assembled company, declared that it were impossible for human mind to create another building so wonderful in all the world. whereupon turning to vassili, he inquired of the flattered and delighted architect whether this declaration were not the truth. the gratified creator of the wonderful cathedral is said to have replied, "ah, sire, give me the money and i will build you another a thousand times more beautiful than the poor work i have already done." hearing this, the terrible ivan turned to his headsman who stood ever handy at his elbow, and ordered vassili's eyes to be immediately burnt out with red-hot irons, in order, as he declared, that there should never be again created so splendid an edifice; then, vassili dying as a result of the operation, ivan ordered a magnificent funeral and directed that the body be laid within the consecrated chamber of the cathedral, among the princes of the blood, where even to-day it yet remains. our hungarian guide vowed that this tale was the literal truth, pointing to the coffin which lay at our feet, among the relics of the house of rurik, as evidence incontrovertible. nor did we presume to doubt this instance of ivan's cruelty, so thick spotted are the pages of history with a thousand other instances of his devilish acts. ivan loved the sight and smell of blood. as a boy he delighted to torture domestic animals, and to ride down old women when he caught them on the streets. as a man, he had the archbishop of novogorod sewn up in the skins of wild beasts and thrown to savage dogs; frequently he dispatched his enemies with his own sword, and he publicly murdered his eldest son, the czarevitch. no malevolent scheme of the human mind was too cruel for his enjoyment. by him entire cities were devoted to destruction on the most trifling pretext. for one instance, the inhabitants of the commercial towns of novogorod (sixty thousand in novogorod alone) and of tver and of klin were massacred in cold blood under his personal supervision. he was more cruel than nero or caligula, and compared with the appalling atrocities of his reign, louis xi and ferdinand vii were gentle kings. [illustration: ancient pavements, moscow.] [illustration: bread vendors, moscow.] his presumption was equal to his cruelty, and he did not hesitate to send his ambassador to queen elizabeth to offer her the privilege of becoming his eighth bride. history knows no such other monster as ivan the terrible, who was undoubtedly mad; and yet he built beautiful churches and palaces, and did more to encourage art and culture within the confines of the empire than any other of the russian czars. we have also driven about the city and viewed the public buildings, the shops and the markets, and this afternoon have come out across the river moskva, and climbed the hills of vorobievy gory, the "sparrow hills,"--from the heights of which napoleon, on that memorable fourteenth day of september, , fresh from the victory of borodino, first viewed the city. in superb panorama, holy moscow lay stretched before us, its towers, its spires, its red and green and blue and yellow walls and roofs, its golden domes, presenting a most sumptuous harmony of color to the delighted eye. while st. petersburg is the political capital, yet moscow is the real center of russia. here is the focus of russia's industrial, commercial, financial and religious life. her "chinese bank" cashes notes on kashgar and pekin, and sells bills of exchange upon their banks in return. the street-life of this most russian city, the coming and going of its people, the commingling of these divers tribes and races, strikingly illustrates the heterogeneous character of the cumbrous empire. here pass me by the blue-eyed, tow-polled _mujiks_ from the provinces; here i meet, face to face, the swarthy skins which tell of tiflis and of teheran; here i touch elbows with kaftan-gowned traders from merv and samarkand, and silk-clad chinese merchants from the distant east. as i stroll along the nickols-skaia, the iliinka-skaia, or the rojdestvensky boulevard, and catch the glances of these faces which stare upon me with constant grave suspicion, doubtful, perchance, whether i am a foreign spy in bureaucratic employ, or a stranger friendly to the held-down people, i am musing upon the curious interweaving of science and superstition, of modern and mediaeval custom, which i here behold, and i ponder how work the hearts and minds behind these masks which alone i see. profound suspicion and discontent is the impression i receive. nowhere do i note a single instance of that joyous hopefulness which marks men's faces in america. the eye which here looks into mine has about it a gaze not frank and sunny, but furtive and melancholy as that of a chained-up wolf. gradually i am beginning to comprehend that the men i look upon, although clothed in the veneer of twentieth century civilization, are nevertheless in mind and heart barbarians,--barbarians chafing beneath the bitter burden of the hateful auto-bureaucratic rule; they are asiatic rather than european; even in discontent they lack the open-mindedness of the west; they belong to the mysterious and inscrutable peoples of the east. napoleon's saying, "scratch a russian and you will find a tartar," now comes to me with redoubled force. [illustration: the kremlin beyond the moskva.] despite the french telephones and the chicago-built bazaar, despite the splendid churches and the gorgeous kremlin, i perceive that these russians are yet the same as when byzantium sent st. cyril and his monks to christianize their savage ancestors thirteen centuries ago. xx. the splendid pageant of the russian mass--the separateness of russian religious feeling from modern thought--russia mediaeval and pagan. moscow, russia, _september , _. we have just been leaning over a guard rail of burnished brass, peering down into the half twilight gloom, beholding ten thousand russian men and women bending their swaying bodies, as a wheat field bends before the wind, crossing themselves in feverish fervor, even bowing the forehead to the marble floor and kissing it rapturously in the solemn celebration of the mass. we drove in a _landau_,--all four of us and our hungarian guide,--through the narrow, crowded streets. "drove," i say! rather i should say whirled, behind two mighty black arab stallions, which no man might hold, but only guide, and we never slackened our pace until we dashed up to the great white granite stairway of the vast cathedral of saint savior. our russian driver yelled, men and vehicles fled from our path, and yet we ran over no one, we killed no one! our furious horses stopped short on their haunches. two russian soldiers now held them by their heads. we drove like nobles. we must be grandees! [illustration: cathedral of st. savior, moscow.] the cathedral of saint savior has been nearly a century in building. founded in commemoration of the defeat of napoleon in , it has been slowly raised by means of the multitudinous contributions of the russian people. it is a square cross in outline, as lofty as the capitol at washington, and surmounted by five oriental domes, the central one bigger than the other four, all topped with greek crosses, and all covered with plates of solid gold, the burnished glittering splendor of which dazzle the eyes long miles away. within, the interior is tiled with rare marbles of divers colors, while the walls are decorated with priceless paintings by the most illustrious russian artists of the century, done by them at the command of the czar, with pillars of malachite and lapis lazuli, green and blue, standing between the splendid pictures. there are altars of solid silver covered with rare embroideries of gold and emblazoned with precious stones. close by each altar rests an eikon. a soldier in gold lace uniform opened our carriage door. he led us up the long flight of white steps--white in the golden sunlight--and pushed his way and ours through the bowing, crossing, sweating, stinking (the russian really never takes a bath) thousands, who, like ourselves, sought to enter the precincts of the most magnificent cathedral of "holy russia." we jostled against rich merchants and their wives clad in splendid furs and silks and adorned with many jewels; against military officers in long gray coats, high boots and caps of astrakhan wool or fur; and peasants, in sheepskin coats, belted at the waist, their legs wrapped in cotton cloth tied with leathern thongs, their feet bound up in straw. these farmers from the country are too poor to afford the luxury of socks and shoes. through all these the soldier with our _pourboire_ in his hand, forced his way--not always gently--and led us up a winding flight of one hundred steps to the series of galleries which run round the immense interior. here he again forced back the press of people until we might lean over the great brass rail and gaze down below! and what a spectacle! there, were ten thousand, twenty thousand,--i dare not say how many, men and women; all standing; all bowing; all devoutly responding to the intoning of the priests! three hundred men and boys clad in red and purple and golden vestments were chanting the melancholy music of the russian church! no organ is there allowed, no musical instrument, no instrument save that which god has made, the human throat! then, from the holy of holies, the innermost sanctuary, comes out the archbishop of all the russias, the metropolitan of "holy moscow," clad in vestments of gold and of silver, intoning the mystery of the mass! other priests stand close behind him, swinging censers of incense, and also chanting in melancholy mournful harmony with the mighty melody of the choir. never have my senses apprehended such opulent, refulgent splendor, such a pageant of gold and of purple, of jewels and of fine linen, such clouds of incense, such glorious, mighty music from the human throat! such fervor, such frenzy, such exaltation as i now beheld in the swaying, worshiping multitude! i was beholding the fervant, fanatical, hysterical religious feeling of the russian people, a people mediaeval in their blind superstition, mediaeval in their per-fervid ardor for their church! what i am writing of can only be impressions, and yet perhaps the impressions which i receive in my brief sojourn within the russian empire may more vividly portray that subtle, almost indefinable, atmosphere which broods over russia and marks it from all the world, than i might be able to do if i remained so long within her confines that i should lose the power. i have now sojourned in russia barely seven days, yet i feel as though i had spent a lifetime in another world than that of america. i hear no sound which is familiar. i cannot even count in russian. i see no street signs which my eyes have before beheld; even the alphabet, though greek, is yet enigmatically russianized. nor do i find that english or danish, french or german is of much avail. in the largest news emporium or bookstore, in st. petersburg, upon the nevsky prospekt, the other day, where twenty or thirty clerks were serving the public, there was no one of them who spoke or even understood either french, or german, much less english. in the chief bookstore in moscow, where a large trade is carried on, nothing is spoken but russian. after much search i did find one small bookshop where a clerk spoke passable french, and another where the jewish proprietor understood german. and while it is true that the high russian officer who escorted us from st. petersburg spoke fluently in german and in french, and while it may also be true that among the bureaucracy, and perhaps nobility, french is still generally understood, yet it is equally true that the present tendency in russia is to russify language as well as things, and that foreign tongues are less spoken and less known to-day than they were thirty or forty years ago. the russian is absorbed in himself, he knows little of the outside world and he cares less. the news of europe and of america and of all the earth only comes to him in expurgated driblets through the sieve of the censor. the saying that "there are three continents," the "continent of europe," the "continent of russia" and the "continent of asia," is no mere jest. one feels it here to be a verity. one feels that russia, despite her pretensions to the contrary, is mediaeval, that she is mentally and morally aloof from all the progress of the present century, from all the thought of modern peoples, and utterly remote from all touch with the progressive nations of to-day. in scandinavia, the world is abreast of the times, its peoples are advanced and alert, but the instant you cross the dead-line and enter russia, you feel that the world has taken a back-set of five hundred years, that russian life is so far behind all modern movement that it never can catch up. even the bigness of st. petersburg carries with it an impracticability that is itself mediaeval. st. petersburg did not grow up because there was need of a city on that spot. it was created as the deliberate act of a despot. peter the great feared to live longer in moscow. he had murdered and tortured too many of its worthy citizens. he had, for one job, hung eight thousand patriots in the red square; he had thrown ten thousand more into dungeons, there to rot. daring no longer to live in moscow, he founded the new capital, "petersburg," on the banks of the neva, which should become a seaport, be protected from his own subjects by the ships he himself would build, and house his government as safe from domestic as from foreign foes. he laid out the city with streets so wide that it has never been possible to pave them well. he provided public buildings so huge that it has never been possible to secure a foundation upon the neva's miry delta solid enough safely to hold them up. he drove the nobility into this quagmire city, and drew the bureaucracy up to its unstable ground. to-day, st. petersburg is a city of a million and a half of inhabitants, but if the russian czars should choose to reconstitute moscow their permanent capital, st. petersburg would again become a wilderness, a waste of marshy islands, desolate and bare. it is the hot-house plant of autocracy. there is no natural reason for it to exist. everywhere in russia one feels the certain so childish straining after effect which is mediaeval and barbaric. in the palace of the kremlin lies the disabled and gigantic cannon which catherine ii commanded to be cast, and which has never fired a shot for the reason that it was so big they could never find a gunner to serve and handle it. close beside it lies the enormous bell, the "czar kolokol"--king of bells--cast by command of a czar, so huge that it could never be lifted up into a belfry and which, falling to the ground from a temporary scaffold, cracked itself by sheer weight. it lies there a fit commentary on overleaping ambition. the cars and locomotives of the railways are uncouth from their very size. russia is like a big, loose-jointed, over-grown boy, a boy so constituted that he may never become a veritable man. the government arsenals and machine shops in moscow are run by german and english bosses. the russian makes big plans, but he does not possess the power himself to carry them to successful issue. the great empire is so spread out that pieces of it are even now ready to break off. an intelligent swede with whom i voyaged from stockholm, then living in st. petersburg, declared the day not far distant when not only finland, but the german provinces of esthonia and livonia and courland along the baltic, as well as poland, must inevitably crack off. and he declared that from mere internal cumbersomeness the russian empire must soon dissolve. it may be so. and one is here impressed with the fact that russia now chiefly holds together by reason of the military might of her autocracy, whose strength and permanence under serious defeat may vanish in a night. another thing i have become cognizant of is the fact that everywhere the men who do not wear a uniform hate the men who do. the cleavage parting the upper and the lower levels of russian life is immense. apparently there is no sympathy between them. the _mujik_ upon the street scowls at the uniformed official who drives by in his dashing equipage. he looks with surly countenance upon the grandee who nearly runs him down. he hates the men who so mercilessly wield authority and power, and who order the cossack to ride him down and knout and saber him into terrified submission. one morning we passed through a great square in moscow containing nothing but men--wild-eyed, long-haired, long-bearded men; men in rags, most of them, and all of them compelled to come there and wait to be hired to work. to that square must all working men go who seek work. the city feeds them while they wait, a single small piece of black bread each day. some never leave that square, but wait there their lifetime through. they gazed upon our handsome landau with hungry and wolfish eyes. how glad would they have been to tear us into pieces and divide what little spoil they might obtain! i never before beheld so frightful, unkempt a company of hopeless, hapless, hungry human slaves as these russian workingmen who waited for a job. [illustration: a moscow tram car.] [illustration: the out-of-works.] xxi. the first snows--moscow to warsaw--fat farm lands and frightful poverty of the mujiks who own them and till them--i recover my passport. hotel savoy, friedichs strasse, berlin, germany, _september , _. "_hoch der kaiser, hoch der kaiser! gott sei dank! ich bin in deutschland angekommen!_" have my brain and blood and bones been crying out all the last fifty miles, since we safely crossed the russian border. until the moment when the last russian official waked me up, held a light in my face, and, staring at me, compared my visage with what the passport said it ought to be, and handed me back that document to be mine forever, to be framed and hung up in my kanawha home, and preserved for my children and children's children as evidence that i came safe out of russia; not till that midnight hour did i realize that i belonged to the common teutonic brotherhood of men, and that puritan-descended american though i were, i and my german neighbor were yet really kin! but at that moment when we crossed the german boundary, i knew it and felt it in every fibre and tingling nerve. i was a teuton, i was a german, i was come again among my blood kindred. "_hoch der kaiser_," "_selig sei deutschland!_" i had come out of mediaevalism, from the shadows of barbarism, i was emerged into the light of the twentieth century's sun! we left moscow late sunday afternoon, in a blinding snow storm, the first of the year. in the morning, after attending mass in the cathedral of saint savior, we drove about the city enjoying the cloudless blue sky, the pellucid sunshine. we visited the gentile and jewish markets, and watched the pressing concourse of eager traders bartering and chaffering their goods and wares; we passed along the high frowning walls of the debtors' prison, where any man who has incurred a debt of five hundred _rubles_ ($ ) may be incarcerated by the creditor, and kept shut up as long as the said creditor puts up for him the very modest sum of about four cents a day for bread. when the creditor quits paying for his debtor's keep, the debtor comes out, but not till then. the fare at that price is not luxurious, and after a few weeks or months of the meagre diet, the debtor joyfully promises anything to escape and, sometimes, persuades his family or friends to compound with the creditor and get him out. but some there are who spend a lifetime within those walls. and our orthodox driver declared that a jew liked nothing better than to thrust and hold a hapless gentile debtor behind those gates. [illustration: monastery church, novo dievitchy.] [illustration: cemetery novo dievitchy.] [illustration: holy beggar, novo dievitchy.] the day was lovely and the air had almost the balminess of spring. men and women and children were going about in summer garments, no overcoats or wraps, and it might as well have been may or june. at the same time, we noticed that the windows of our rooms in the hotel were double-sashed and tight-corked with cotton, and i also observed that similar double windows were fast set on public buildings and dwelling-houses past which we drove. but otherwise, as we looked into the soft blue sky there was no hint of approaching frosts. it was near noon when we drove out to see the famous convent of novo dievitchy, and we spent a delightful hour in viewing its towered church, its cloisters, its nuns' cells and children's quarters, and the curious cemetery where are entombed many of moscow's most illustrious dead, tombs which are set above the ground amidst choice shrubbery and blooming plants. we had just come out, through the old arched gateway, and had encountered a band of holy beggars who absorbed our attention and our _kopeeks_. i had put the ladies into the _landau_, while the driver with great difficulty held back his restive, squealing stallions. my hand was on the carriage door, when i felt something soft and cold upon it. i looked up and behold! the air was full of big flakes of descending snow. the horizon to the north and east was black, the blue sky had grown a leaden gray. winter had come to moscow and to us as silently and as suddenly as it once came to napoleon and his thinclad army, near a century ago. there was no wind; the noises of the city were suddenly hushed; a great silence now brooded over moscow. the air was thick with big, fluffy, fluttering particles of whiteness which stuck to everything they touched, and never melted when they ceased to fall. we could not see across the road, even the horses were half hid. our driver gave full rein to the impatient team and we flew homeward, but the snow kept coming down just the same. it never melted anywhere. it grew into piles and mounds and soft feathery masses. it wholly concealed the scarred and rutted unevennesses of the road, it clung to twig and tree and fence, to gable, to window-ledge and lintel. king winter had breakfasted in archangel and, speeding across flat and unbarriered russia, now dined in moscow and would there permanently remain. and as suddenly all moscow now bloomed forth into sheepskin overcoats and elaborate furs and winter wraps. the citizens must have had them hanging behind the door upon a handy peg, ready for just such a sudden coming of the snows. by afternoon, sleighs and sledges jingled along the ways and boulevards, and stinking, filthy-streeted moscow was transformed into a city immaculate and pure. and the snow kept ever falling, falling, falling, steadily, softly, persistently, without let or stop. it was toward two o'clock that we took our final excursion out beyond the borders of the city to the summer palace of the czars, the favorite chateau petrovsky, where prior to the coronation every czar goes to repose and meditate and prepare himself with fasting and prayer for the ordeal of the tedious ceremonial in the cathedral of the assumption within the kremlin. [illustration: the kremlin beneath the snows.] the chateau is a large and rambling building of wood and brick, with extensive suites of big, bare rooms. behind it there lies a garden, laid out as though it were in france, with many graveled walks, and beds of flowers and edges of close-clipped box. here the czarina loves to wander, and here she passes many a quiet hour when escaped from the pomp and pressure of life in the kremlin's gaudy palace. here one bed of roses was pointed out to us as her especial joy. the old french gardener looked pathetic as he stood beside it and watched the big white flakes alighting upon each leaf and petal. "the snows are come," he said, "the garden dies, there will be no flowers more till another year!" and then, as if to save his cherished pets, he hastily gathered the finest of the blooms and presented them to h and begged her to accept and keep them, saying, "the snows are come, the czarina, the empress, will not now object; to-morrow these will surely all be dead." in the morning of the day before, we were told that, "to-morrow, or next day, or in a week, or a fortnight, will come the snows, we do not know how soon. but when they come, then we know that winter is begun, the long seven months of winter which will not leave us till may or june. it is then you should come to see us. then are these ill-paved and reeking streets white and hard and clean; the summer's dusts and heats are then forgot, and we quicken with the invigoration of the cold; then does the city gladden with the gay life of those returned from the summer's toil upon the wide estates, or from foreign lands, for winter is the season when all russians best love to be at home." we settled our hotel bills only after much argument with our host. we would not pay for candles we had not burned; our room was lighted with electric lights. we would not pay for steaks we had not eaten, nor chickens yet alive, nor for sweets we never tasted. no! for these and the like of these we flatly refused to pay. "de vaiter's meeshtakes, mein herr, sie shall kom oudt." one hundred _rubles_ for three days! moscow was as costly as london! through the falling snows, thick falling snows, we drove to the smolensk railway station, whence start the trains going west, for moscow has not yet arrived at the convenience of a union depot. although all railroads are owned and run by the government, yet each train starts from that side of the city nearest to the direction it will travel. we entered a long, low brick and wooden building, and passing through a wide dark waiting room, came out upon a wooden platform and were beside our train. we were ready to go. we had our tickets and our passports. three days before, almost as soon as we arrived, we gave the forty-eight hours' notice of our intention to leave russia, and the twenty-four hours' notice that we should also leave moscow. we were permitted to take our passports to the main ticket office up within the city, the kitai gorod, and presenting them, secured the tickets. we then returned the passports to the police department to be given back to us just before we left, by the big uniformed official at our hotel. but he did not return them until we first bestowed upon him another ten _rubles_, as we had done when leaving st. petersburg! now we were once more to surrender our passports to a new uniformed government official, the train conductor, who would also examine them, _visé_ them, and hand them to another when we came to warsaw, to be yet again scrutinized and stamped and only returned to us when we at last crossed the german border. nor even then until we should be finally inspected and compared by yet other officials so as to make dead certain that we were indeed the very self same travelers who now declared they wanted to get out of russia. the train was a long one. it was the through express carrying the imperial mails to vienna, berlin and paris. it would pass smolensk, minsk, "brzesc" (brest) and warsaw. it was one of the important trains of the empire. there were many passengers, and we were able to secure only a single stateroom with two berths in the first-class car for the ladies, while mr. c and i obtained two berths in the second class car adjoining. we might sit together during the day, but for the night we would be in different coaches. the berths in our sleeper were provided each with a mattress, and an extra _ruble_ gave us a pair of blankets, a sheet and a pillow. the cars were warm and double-windowed against the cold. we went about twenty miles an hour over a straight-tracked road, and our sleep was undisturbed. when i awoke in the morning and made my way toward the toilet, though early, i yet found a queue of men and women ahead of me, and had to fall in line and take my turn. a big bearded jew was just coming out of the little toilet room and a slim young woman was just going in, a young woman comely and with hair tangled and fallen down. this was bad enough, but between the tangled hair and myself stood another dame with locks quite as disheveled and unkempt. but i dared not quit my place, since an increasing number of men and women pressed uneasily behind me. my only chance was to stick it out until those coiffures should be restored to immaculate condition for the day. within the toilet there was no soap, nor towel, nor comb, nor brush, nor else but ice-cold water, and a wide open channel down into the bitter stinging air. but i had now journeyed somewhat in russia and had come fitly prepared. all night we had rolled through a dead flat country, passing smolensk, a large city of fifty thousand inhabitants, and all day we continued to traverse the same wide levels. the sky was blue, the air was cold and keen, there was a slight drifting of snow across the illimitable fields. peasants in belted sheepskin overcoats, which came down to the heels, were plowing in the fields, each behind a single horse, and women on their knees were planting, or digging out potatoes and turnips and beets. women were also hoeing everywhere, working like the men--mostly in short skirts, kerchiefs about the head, legs swathed in cotton cloth wrapped around and tied on with strings, feet like the men's, wrapped up in plaited straw. the houses were miserable wooden huts of only one story and with chimneys made of sticks and mud and built on the inside to save heat, and meaner than any cabins of the most "ornery" mountaineers of eastern kentucky and tennessee. there were no windows in the hovels, no openings but one single door. for the men and women who tilled the land, it was poverty, bitter poverty everywhere. yet we were traversing some of the finest, richest, most productive farming lands of russia; lands on which great and abundant crops are raised, or ought to be raised, and where these men and women ought to be living in ease and comfort by their toil, for these lands are largely owned by those who till and cultivate them, the "free and emancipated" peasantry of russia! but the great crops are of little avail to the helpless peasant. his industry brings him no cessation of grinding toil. he barely lives, often he starves, sometimes he dies, dies of starvation right on this rich, fat land he himself owns. the government of the czar knows just what each acre of his land will yield, and knowing this, it takes from the peasant in taxes the product of his sweat and toil, leaving him barely enough to live. there are no schools to teach the peasant. the high russian officer, the lieutenant colonel who guarded us from st. petersburg to moscow, said, "the peasant wants no schools." thus, he never learns his rights, the rights god wills to him. he keeps on toiling year in and year out, and the government of the czar squeezes from him his tears, his blood, his _kopeeks_, his life! and these men i saw were white men and owned the land, fat, fertile land, rejoicing ever in abundant crops! [illustration: a station stop, en route to warsaw.] a century ago, even thus were also the peasants of france ground down and pillaged by the king, the nobility, the government of the state. as i traveled through the fruitful valley of the loire two years ago, crossing central france, and beheld the smiling fields and well-planted meadows and perpetual cultivation of every foot of soil, until the whole land bloomed and bore crops like one mighty garden, i could not help wondering, as i looked upon the smiling countenance of the terrain, and upon the contented faces of the sturdy and thrifty peasantry who owned and tilled it, whether this present fecundity and agricultural wealthiness of rural france, does not, after all, repay the world and even france herself, for the terrors and the tears, the blood and the obliteration of the _l'ancien régime_, whose expungement by the revolution alone made possible to-day a regenerated and rejoicing france. we have passed through minsk, the ancient capital of lithuania, a city of more than one hundred thousand inhabitants of whom more than half are jews, and through brzesc (pronounced "brest"), another city as big as smolensk and renowned as a fortress, taken and retaken, lost and relost, through all the weary centuries of polish-muskovite wars. we have crossed the river bug ("boog") on a fine steel bridge, and entering pillaged poland, are now arrived within the borders of her great capital, warsaw ("barcoba," "varsova"), where we change to a train of german cars, of the narrower german gauge, and go on to berlin. just after leaving minsk, i fell into conversation with a most intelligent young jew from warsaw, who, among other things, spoke of russia and her ways, saying that, strange as it may seem, the people of poland prefer her harsh rule to the fairer dealing of the germans, for the reason that pole and russ both talk a slavic tongue, and race affinity constitutes a bond. yet said he at the same time, all poles dream of the day when a polish king shall again fill a polish throne, and the glories of their fatherland shall be restored. we reached warsaw only two hours late and pulled into the large stone station close alongside the berlin train. the porter grabs our bags. our small steamer trunk is shown to hold no _vodka_, nor contraband effects. "_nach berlin_," i shout, and we are transferred to a clean, comfortable german car. _gott sei dank!_ we feel a thousand times. we are almost free, almost escaped, almost beyond the russian pale. for a fortnight, we have been under constant, conscious, persistent surveillance. our guides have been in the employ of the police; strange men have followed us about upon the streets, have sat beside us in hotels, have scrutinized us with cold eyes upon the trains. we have been under the direct guard of armed soldiers, who have stood outside our stateroom door and slept beside us all the night. we have never, since entering russia, been free from the weasel-wit and ferret-eye of incessant espionage! and the dirt! dirty cars! dirty hotels! dirty carriages! dirty streets! dirty churches! dirty palaces! dirty men! dirty women! such is russia, a land where the world knows not water, except to skate upon when turned to ice. now we are in a german car, immaculately clean! clean, almost, as it would be in norway! we are in the modern world again. i feel great pressure in my heart to "_hoch der kaiser_", and this despite the fact that, like every right-minded american, i am bred to abhor the assumptions of hohenzollern kaisership even as strenuously as romanoff autocracy. yes! i feel great impulse to _hoch der kaiser_ and to cheer for germany and my german kin. xxii. the slav and the jew--the slav's envy and jealousy of the jew. now that i have had a glimpse of russia, you ask me, "why is the slav always so eager to do to death the jew?" wherefore this hatred which so constantly flames out in grievous pillage and wanton murder and blood-thirsty massacre of the children of israel? you say to me that in america for two centuries we have had the jew; that we now have millions of jews, and that they are patriotic and loyal citizens of the republic; that jews sit in our highest courts and render able and fair decisions, enter the senate of the united states and sit in congress, are sent to west point and annapolis and prove themselves devoted and efficient officers of the army and navy, are lawyers and doctors and distinguished members of the learned professions; that they display intelligence, industry and thrift, and are among the foremost citizens of the republic, and that many of these jews, or their fathers and mothers, have come direct from russia. and you ask me "why is it then that within the dominion of the czar the slav makes such constant war upon the jew?" if i were briefly to sum up my impressions of the real cause of the slav's hatred of the jew, i should say, jealousy and envy, and then ask you to remember that the slav is yet at heart a semi-asiatic and a barbarian. when journeying from st. petersburg to moscow the russian lieutenant-colonel said to me: "in america you select real men for presidents of whom roosevelt is the finest type, but in france the jews and financiers set up their tool for president." in a nut shell this high russian officer expressed the feeling of his own race toward the jew. the jew is a jew and the jew is a financier. the russians are jealous of his acquired wealth and of his ability to gather it and they hate him. a few days later, traveling from moscow to warsaw, we found ourselves sitting in a dining car with an elaborate bill of fare before us and yet we were like to starve right then and there. the menu was printed in russian; the attendants and waiters talked nothing but russian. we knew no russian and spoke in english, in german, in french, in danish without avail. the servants just stood there shaking their heads and saying, "_nyett, nyett_." ("no, no.") we were famishing but could order no food. just then a tall woman of courtly manner, elegantly gowned, came toward us from another table and said in perfect english that she had long lived in london, though now she resided in russia, and then, giving our orders to the waiters, she saved us from impending famine. she afterward told me that her passport had lapsed, and that the russian government now refused to let her leave russia because she was a jewess, while at the same time, they forbade her to remain longer in moscow, she having recently become a widow, and under the harsh laws of russia thereby lost her right of domicile within the city. she hoped to escape to america by bribing the officials at the border. at vilna, i fell into acquaintance with a young pole from warsaw, who spoke seven languages and among them german and english fluently, although he had never been outside the dominions of the czar. he was a strict jew, and he expressed great surprise when i assured him that in america a jew is treated just the same as a christian. he said he had heard that to be indeed really the fact, and he expressed the intention of some day coming to america to see for himself. he seemed both perplexed and gratified when he found that i showed him the same consideration i did my gentile acquaintances. in moscow we drove past the imposing front of the great jewish synagogue. the doors were barred. the structure was falling into decay. i learned that it had been closed for nigh twenty years by order of the imperial governor of moscow, prince vladimir, uncle of the czar; nor might any synagogue now be opened in moscow; nor might any jew now worship in any edifice; nor might any outside jew now come and live in moscow; nor might any jew living in moscow come back if he had once left the limits of the city; nor might he own any land in the city, nor practice a profession; nor might he marry a christian, nor might a christian marry him. the jews were also subjected to extra and particular special taxes, arbitrarily levied and collected by the autocratic government. the jew, right here in "holy moscow," soul and heart-center of the vast russian empire, was pillaged under the autocratic rule of the czar, persecuted under the hand of the holy orthodox church, plagued and preyed upon by a perpetually jealous and malevolent populace. the russian army officer sneering at monsieur loubet, president of france, whom he called the "tool of jews and financiers;" the courtly jewish lady; the intelligent jewish merchant of warsaw, who was so much astonished that i should show him the courtesy of an equal, the lowly _izvostchik_ driving me in his _droschky_ and pointing out the closed and moldering synagogue; each and all discovered in their divers ways the attitude of the slav toward the jew; and the officer revealed in his criticism of the ruler of russia's ally, the republic of france, the real underlying secret cause of the russian's animosity and hatred of the jew. that cause of hatred is the jew's ability to prosper without and in spite of the fostering care of the autocracy. the jew was a cultivated citizen-of-the-world when the slavic ancestors of the russian were unlettered nomads roving the illimitable wastes of scythia. in the temples and libraries of ancient egypt the jew acquired the culture and the learning of the pharaohs; amidst the palaces and hanging-gardens of imperial babylon and nineveh the jew learned the arts and the sciences of the assyrian and persian; plato and aristotle and the greek philosophers recognized in the jew a spiritual culture of exalted type, and granted him to possess a learning as encompassing as their own; the roman, practical, and master of the then known world, paid homage to the cultivated intelligence of the jew. [illustration: catching a kopeek--a beggar.] the monotonous plains of russia were yet filled with nomadic hordes of pagan barbarians when cordova was a paved city, its streets illuminated by night, its libraries and its university the center of the most advanced learning of the age; when the gigantic and splendid cathedrals of england and france were everywhere raising their mighty walls and spires for the perpetual glory of god and the inspiration of mankind; when the fleets of lisbon and genoa were discovering the farthest and most distant splendors of the orient and occident; when venice was mistress of byzantium and florence patron of rome; when hebrew savants, under the benign influence of saracen rule, were among the most learned and renowned leaders of moslem science; when the israelites of italy and france were intermarried among the proudest of the nobility and were even counselors of kings; when hebrew learning and hebrew wealth gave added momentum to the impulse of the renaissance. while during the centuries of the world's reawakening, even as during the preceding centuries of the crusades, just as throughout the long duration of the dominion of rome and of the eastern empire, the jew was ever recognized for his learning, culture and wealth. when st. cyril and his byzantine monks, in the seventh century, gave greek christianity to the russian pagan, the russian yet remained content with outward forms and ceremonies. he continued pagan at heart and persevered in worshiping the ancient ghosts and spirits, even as in many parts of russia he does to-day. he put on a christian coat, but he kept his pagan hide; and the russian orthodox christian has always remained a semi-pagan. the great mass of the russian people were serfs sold with the land up to , when alexander ii gave them nominal freedom, but a freedom without lands and without schools; a so-called freedom which has left the individual peasant, the _mujik_, as landless, as bitterly poor, as benightedly ignorant to-day as he was a thousand years ago; nor does the autocratic-bureaucracy of the czar give him hope of a better day. i journeyed through some of the richest farming lands in russia, and the farmers, the _mujiks_, whom i saw tilling the soil, plowing and digging in the fields, were so poor that their feet were wrapped in plaited straw, too impoverished to afford the luxury of a leathern boot! the government absorbs all the profits of the crops in payment for these lands and in taxes, as return for having made the _mujiks_ nominal owners of the soil and emancipating them from serfdom. on the other hand, the nobles are forbidden by caste spirit and tradition to enter into any career except the service of the state. the younger nobles and ruling breeds among the russian people are all sucked into the employ of the state by the maelstrom of bureaucracy. the youths of the nobility and gentry, and the more or less educated classes, must enter the navy, the army, and the service of the state. a government job for life is their only hope. they are not permitted to make money for themselves independently; they can only make money for the government of the czar and for themselves through "graft." the government wishes to do everything in russia. it deliberately invades the spheres of private enterprise; it deliberately seeks all the profit; it deliberately destroys the ambition and the power of the person; it deliberately annihilates and stifles individual initiative. in russia, the government runs all the railroads, most of the mines, many of the iron mills. it raises cotton; it raises wheat; it farms and it manufactures. it buys and sells. it runs all the telegraphs and telephones and express business. it opens all private letters and reads all the printed books and newspapers. it permits no letter to go through the mails, nor book nor newspaper to be read, which it deems to express sentiments inimical to the supremacy of the autocracy. i was threatened with imprisonment in russia for snapping a kodak without government permit. i was under police and military supervision and escort all the time i traveled in russia, even short as it was. nor did i dare to send a letter to america from russia, but wrote my thoughts with locked doors, and mailed my writings only when safe beyond the eye of the russian government spy. thus we find that, on the one hand, the peasantry are crushed, thrust down and pitilessly held in ignorance and superstition and bitter poverty; on the other hand, all the best ability and brains of the governing classes are commandeered into the army, or navy, or life-long government service, and with meager salaries and small pay. the big grafts, the soft snaps, the juicy chances must all belong to the government and flow into the coffers of the czar to keep fat and easy the imperial family and the swarms of parasitic tid-bit hunters who leech them. but even in autocratic russia, the grasping clutch of autocracy cannot hold up all the avenues of commerce, however far-reaching its embrace may be. hence, in those lines of enterprise, not absorbed and appropriated by the government, there is left open a clear path to whosoever may have the acumen to seize the opportunity. here is the chance of the jew. endowed with a keen and subtle intellect, educated by his own masters often to the highest training of the intelligence and disciplined by the hardships of persecution, he is at once an overmatch for the ignorant, brutal, poverty-haunted _mujik_, and fully the equal of the best breeds of governing slavs. those intellects which are the equals of his own are not in competition with him. the ablest of the slavs are earning a small salary in the army, in the navy, or as government officials; making what they can for themselves by more or less open graft, it is true, but without the incentive of other personal gain. so the jew gets on in russia. this progress is in spite of the jealousy and the hatred and the pillaging hand of the envious slav. [illustration: a cold day.] [illustration: along the river moskva, moscow.] there is, here and there, considerable wealth among many of the jews in russia. this is not true of all the jews. most of the jews are poor, frightfully poor, made and kept so by the laws; but there is wealth among some of the jews. the few wealthy jews do not always keep these riches within the dominions of the czar. the russians complain that the rich jews, while making their money in russia, yet lay it up in the banks of berlin, of vienna, of paris and particularly of london. when a russian governor wishes to squeeze a little extra pocket money out of the jews of his district, his city, his province, he cannot always lay hands on their money hoards. sometimes, then, he lets the street urchins plague them a little; the squeezed and squalid peasant is allowed to vent his envy of their wealth, even to knocking a jew down; now and then, these meanly-minded boys, these pinch-bellied peasants get out of hand and, stung by their blood lust, too hastily massacre more jews than the governor intended. this is about the size of the job that governor von raaben found to his credit in kischineff. the poor jews suffered for the prosperity of their rich brethren. the embittered and down-crushed _mujik_, galled and soured by reason of his own hapless and seemingly hopeless condition, vented his spleen at the first handy object, and the jew was handier, though not more hated, than the uniformed official of the governing autocracy. the russian, as an individual, is of a kindly nature. he is good to his wife, good to his children, good to his beasts. he has none of the roman-spanish pitilessness to dumb creatures. but the russian, after all, is an asiatic. the old saying, "scratch a russian and you'll find a tartar," is as true to-day as when the cossacks of catherine ii impaled and crucified men and women and children of the fleeing mongol horde, when these simply sought to migrate beyond the hectoring reach of russian rule. no bloodier chapter mars the annals of history than that of the russian slaughter of nigh the entire tekke turkoman race in her warfare of on the shores of the caspian, at geok tepe, when seven thousand women and children were stricken down in cold blood as they fled from kuropatkin's ruthless cossacks. nor is the world done shuddering yet at the atrocious barbarities under general gribski, governor of blagoveschensk, who commanded the deliberate drowning of the chinese inhabitants of that city but a few years ago, in , and in a season of prevailing peace, drove them before the knouts and bayonets of his cossacks into the hopeless waters of the river amoor by unnumbered thousands, old men and women and little children, so that for many weeks, nay months, the great river was so choked with the swollen bodies of the dead that navigation was at a standstill. [illustration: a russian jew.] no roman sack and pillage of a conquered city, not even the taking and wreck of jerusalem by titus and his legions, equals in horror and cold blood these late russian slaughters; not even the fire and sword of attila and his avenging huns wrought such woe and terror as have been wrought in these recent years by the servants of the czar; nor are the tormented souls of alva and his spanish veterans more deeply marked with blood-soaked scars than is the russian autocracy of to-day; nor mediaeval, nor modern times, nor pagan, nor moslem warfare, have known so monstrous a series of godless massacres of helpless humankind as those now standing to the credit of the russian autocracy during the last twenty-five years. the crime of kischineff is no more heinous than have been the slaughters of geok tepe, blagoveschensk and a thousand lesser human killings, nor more heart-sickening than were those awful visitations of slavic blood-lust upon creatures defenseless, helpless, abjectly terror-struck. it is only that it was committed in a season of profound peace, against a peaceful people, and at a time when all the world had the leisure to hear the dying wails of the hapless women and helpless children raped and ravished and torn asunder in the open day. notwithstanding these crimes which mar the pages of recent russian history, none would be more astonished than the russian himself, if he were made aware of the world-wide condemnation these crimes provoke. he would protest against so harsh an estimate of russian conquest; at most, when confronted with the facts, he would shrug his shoulders and urge that the responsibility lies not upon holy russia, but upon those who oppose her destiny to conquer and absorb. the thoughtful russian will declare that after all it is no more than the inevitable struggle of the survival of the fittest, and demonstrate that there are no feuds of race, other than the universal hatred of the jew, within the dominions of the czar. from the russian viewpoint these arguments are not unreasonable; the vast military establishment upon which rests the autocracy, necessitates foreign wars with weaker peoples, if for no other reason than to keep a busied soldiery from thinking too much upon grievances at home; through commercial expansion in asia, won by bayonet and sword, the autocracy has sought to secure compensation for the suppression of commercial opportunity at home! the problems of russia are, after all, economic rather than racial, and it is up to russia to solve these in accordance with the lessons and example of the enlightened nations of the west; let the nobility and educated classes, who are now sucked into and absorbed by the bureaucracy, take full part in the commercial and industrial life of the empire and receive full reward for the exercise of their energy, intelligence and skill; let them lift from the _mujik_ the crushing weight of the imperial taxes, divide with him the almost illimitable acreage of the imperial domain; and leave to him his fair share of the earnings won by his sweat and toil, and there will be no more geok tepes, blagoveschensks, nor kischineffs, nor will there be longer hatred of the jew. [illustration: taken in russia--taken in america. jewish types.] xxiii. across germany and holland to england--a hamburg wein stube, the "simple fisher-folk" of maarken--two gulden at den haag. london, england, hotel russell, _september , _ crossing the russian border in the night, we arrived at berlin almost before the dawn; the city lies only three hours (by train) beyond the russian line. the station we entered was spacious and clean, in sharp contrast to the dirty stations of russia; we were evidently come into a land blessed with a civilization of higher type. leaving the car, we were instantly beset by a regiment of smartly uniformed porters--old soldiers all of them--and were piloted by one tall veteran to a waiting _fiacre_, which soon carried us to the hotel savoy. it was early, not yet five o'clock, but the streets were already alive with an orderly and animated throng, who appeared to be workmen largely, carpenters, masons and day-laborers, each clad in his distinctive laborer's garb. they were on their way to work, for the working day is long in germany, ten and twelve hours, and the workingman is up betimes. we passed over asphalted streets where men in military-looking uniforms, with hose in hand, were washing down their surfaces, while others with big coarse brooms were sweeping them clean. berlin is a clean city, clean and neat as the proverbial german in america is known to be. alighting from our carriage, i was greeted in my own tongue, by the friendly mannered concierge, who instantly marked me for an american, and gave us comfortable quarters such as american dollars usually secure. [illustration: a dainty nurse maid, berlin.] h and i were now alone, our companions, mr. and mrs. c having left us at warsaw, where they would spend a week or two and learn something of poland. perhaps i might tell you right here, that the next morning, as we were leaving the hotel, i felt a hand upon my shoulder and, turning round, faced the two chicago travelers just then arrived. they had cut short their stay in warsaw, for the only american-speaking guide in that city was away on a vacation, and german and french to them were as impossible as polish. they confessed, also, that they had sorely missed their american fellow-travelers, and had hurried after us, hoping they might induce us to sojourn a little while in their good company. we spent our single day without trying to see museums and picture galleries, but taking a guide and a carriage, drove about the city and viewed its avenues and parks, its markets and busy thoroughfares, and noble public buildings, to catch what glimpse we might of the waxing capital of the german empire. the first impression berlin makes upon the stranger, especially the stranger new-come from russia, is that of its cleanliness and orderliness; and, i think, i here also felt the sympathy of blood-kinship with the well set-up and neatly clad men and women, whose faces might have been those of my fellow countrymen of st. louis, cincinnati or new york. berlin, to-day, fitly typifies modern germany and the modern german spirit. we drove everywhere over smooth streets, kept scrupulously clean. on either hand stretched miles of new and handsome buildings, modern in architecture and modern in construction, while the signs i saw were in latin text, instead of the gothic, a striking evidence of german progression. when we came to the lovely unter den linden, we left the carriage and wandered beneath its umbrageous trees and enjoyed, as every one must, the beauty of its vistas of greensward and carefully tended flowers. the german loves his flowers almost as devotedly as does his english cousin. we strolled also along the famous thier garten, which would be a magnificent boulevard in any city; and which the german kaiser has sought to ornament with innumerable ponderous groups of sculpture, preserving for the astonished world the commonplace memories of paltry ancestors. how much better would it have been to have adorned this stately thoroughfare with statues of illustrious germans, whose great deeds and works have contributed to the world's enlightenment and the fatherland's renown! to a democrat, bred to contemn the empty glitter and pretense of inherited privilege, it almost stirs one's anger to see so splendid a public highway as the thier garten thus arrogantly defaced. in this capital of an empire, whose foundation is set on bayonets and swords and the "biggest guns," where militarism runs riot, there is no surprise in finding the streets filled with soldiers and officers, and to meet frequently a marching company, nor does it astonish one to see here the extreme development of the spirit of military caste. here, the civilian, man as well as woman--no matter how well clad he or she may be--must turn aside for strutting officer and also, as for that, for the common soldier, and all traffic must hold back to let a company of soldiery pass by, even though they are out only on errand of trivial exercise. here in germany, perhaps as nowhere else, have the clever supporters of royal and imperial pretension worked the army racket to the limit, through creating a perpetual scare that greedy neighbors will devour the fatherland. the citizen of berlin is never allowed to forget that little more than a century ago, cossack hordes pastured their ponies in the parks and gardens of the german capital; and can gallop there again from their polish camps in a single day. the army has been built up on the pretense that it is necessary for national defense, and thus the kaiser, who is permitted to occupy the position of army chief, holds at his command these enormous military forces, while he uses them the rather to exalt his own prerogative and subvert the people's inborn rights of individual sovereignty, which is the highest gift of god to man. the splendid building of the reichstag, where the socialist party of germany, to-day, makes its almost vain attempt toward securing to the people a freer exercise of man's natural rights, is thus menaced by the colossal military group which stands before it, as though to teach the lesson that the sword still rules the fatherland. in the evening, our guide, who had privately confessed to me that within the year he would travel to new york there to become manager of a great hotel, led us to one of the more notable bier garten, where we saw a most german vaudeville, the feats of whose performers were greeted with vociferous _hochs_, and where we listened to a splendid band, and where h had her first sight of ponderous germans absorbing beer, with which spectacle she was much impressed. wednesday, we were early astir, driving to the hamburgischer bahnhoff, where we took the fast nine o'clock express for hamburg, and flew along over a well-ballasted road-bed through a dead-flat country, in what the germans proudly call their "fastest" train. the panorama was one of market gardens and intensely cultivated land. it was a monotonous prospect, where the alikeness of the vistas was emphasized by the sentinel stiffness of the ever recurring rows of lombardy-poplars. as in russia, men and women were everywhere working in the fields and gardens, but unlike russia, they were well clad and well fed, and bore an air of thrifty contentment. there was no dilapidation anywhere. we saw no longer the tumbled-down shacks of the _mujik_, but everywhere substantial, neat homesteads of brick and stone. [illustration: hamburg street traffic.] ours was a through train connecting with the hamburg-american line of steamers for new york, and with the through railway express traffic for france and belgium, via cologne. the passengers were chiefly of the well-to-do commercial classes, or those substantial travelers who would hasten quickly between germany and france. none the less, at the few stations where we halted, did the entire company instantly burst forth, hastening to the long counters, where they convulsively swallowed foaming schooners of beer and eagerly devoured sundry dainties, such as rye bread spread with goose grease and over-laid with _kraut_ or _wurst_, and varnished _pretzels_ salted to the limit. even the babies were held at the open windows and foaming mugs of beer poured into them by their fond parents. the passion of the german for his _bier_ equals the russian's thirst for _vodka_. we reached hamburg a little after half past one, when, taking a _fiacre_, we immediately drove to cook's tourists' agency, where i booked to london, via amsterdam, the hague, the hook of holland, and harwich. then, for an hour, we strolled about the city. hamburg possesses fine retail shops and abounds in restaurants, bier-keller and wein-stuben, establishments devoted to the solace of the inner man. stricken with hunger-pangs, and not knowing just where to go, i accosted a tall and prosperous-looking burger, telling him we were americans in search of food. lifting his hat, he "begged to be allowed to guide us to the finest wein stube" in the town, whither his own steps were at that moment bent. he led the way to a quiet side street, where, descending a flight of stone steps, he introduced us to the portly master of the _stube_. we entered a succession of large cellars, paneled and ceiled in oak and floored with patterned tiles, where small round-topped wooden tables were set about. we were conducted to a cozy corner, and rhine wine, cheese, sausage and fresh rye bread were set before us, as well as mustard and sour pickles and pats of sweet unsalted butter, and to this was added a palatable stew. the room was filled with men--big, well-fed, well-clothed men, apparently merchants, ship-masters and men of affairs. they fell-to upon their flagons of _wein_, their _wurst_ and _kraut_, their _braten_ and _fisch_ with serious and deliberate devotion. it was that time of day when, in america, the prospering businessman eats lightly, smokes sparingly and touches liquor not at all, holding his intellect alert and whetted to its keenest edge. we watched with wonder these men of hamburg, while they poured down quart after quart of wine, the air growing thick with the fumes of strong tobacco. this capacity of hans to eat heavily and mightily liquor-up and yet transact affairs, bespeaks a hardness of head and toughness of stomach which ranks him neck and neck alongside his cousin bull as co-champion of the bibulating, gastronomizing world. [illustration: our bill of fare.] although h was the only woman in the _stube_, being recognized as americans, we were treated by the company with greatest courtesy and that invariable friendliness with which, in germany, my countrymen are everywhere received. upon departing, mein host presented me with an attractive little ash-tray to add to my collection of souvenirs and, with much ceremony, bestowed also upon mine _frau_ an illuminated catalogue of his store of wines. later, we entered a comfortable _landau_ and for several hours were driven about the city. hamburg has always been an important city and one where great volume of business has been transacted. in the middle ages it was a member of the hanseatic league; in after days it was a free city and, even at this time, its citizens view its absorption within the german empire not altogether with satisfaction. it bears the marks of great antiquity. quaint and picturesque are the lofty mediaeval buildings which lean over its canals, where men and women push, with long poles, blunt-ended canal boats and clumsy-looking, but storm-proof, sloops and luggers, among perpetual cries and clamors; where sturdy black tug boats incessantly shove their way; and where is a jam and jostle of inland water-life not unlike that seen in holland. many narrow streets cross these canals on high-built bridges, bearing a continuous and deliberately-moving traffic. hamburg also possesses noble boulevards, long and straight and wide, and well-shaded with umbrageous lindens, where, set back behind high walls and strong-barred gates, are miles of sumptuous mansions, in which her merchant princes maintain their households in unostentatious luxury. the wealth of the merchants of hamburg is said to exceed that of the aristocratic office-holding classes of berlin. there are also spacious docks in hamburg, convenient and modernly equipped, where, year by year, gathers an increasing shipping to fetch and carry the rapidly developing foreign commerce of the german empire. the wealth and energy of the german hinterlands pours itself eagerly into hamburg's lap and the ancient mediaeval city now finds itself, unlike somnolent copenhagen, at the very forefront of europe's activity. hamburg is, commercially, more alive and active than berlin, and as a port receives more shipping than london. hamburg is almost as wide awake as is new york. after our drive, we came to the hotel europaer, where we dined and rested, and then departed a little before midnight for amsterdam. although this is the regular passenger service to holland, there was no through sleeper, and we were compelled to change at oestenburg, where we caught the night express from cologne. then in a comfortable "_schlafwagen_," wrapped in our sea-rugs, we slept soundly the balance of the night. [illustration: a kinder of maarken.] [illustration: a gentleman of maarken.] we arrived at amsterdam near eight o'clock and found our way to the hotel victoria, near the station, where i enjoyed such delicious coffee two years ago, and there we breakfasted: coffee,--a great pot of fragrant java,--abundant milk, sweet and delicious,--rolls and big fresh eggs, and a fish which much resembled the danish _roed spoette_ and english sole. it was a delightful breakfast, such as one is always sure to have in holland. two years ago, i devoted my time to viewing the city, so now we resolved to see somewhat of the country beyond the limits of the town. thus it happened that we boarded a taut little boat in the midmorning and all day long steamed through canals, with many locks, passing above picturesque farmsteads and villages, down upon which we looked from the higher level of the diked-up waters, and floated at last upon the zuyder zee. we later visited the island of maarken with its fisher-folk in quaint and ancient costume. once "simple peasants," but now, alas! ruined by the staring, money-shedding tourist. we had scarcely set foot upon the island, when we were stormed by a horde of men and women, boys and girls, each demanding "mooney," and imploring us to snap the kodak at them for the cash; begging us also to visit their particular homes, where we would be allowed to look inside the door, and perhaps inspect the house, for more dutch _cents_ and even _gulden_. so persistent were these "simple fisher-folk" that i almost fell into dire mishap. h suggested she should take my photograph, whereupon i arranged myself before the camera, when, just as the kodak clicked, a _vrow_ and several _kinderen_ rushed up and took position by my side, thus necessarily appearing in the picture, as you will see. the lady backed by her brood thereupon demanded, "mooney, mooney, mooney." naturally, i refused to pay for what had been given without request. the little company immediately raised a loud lament, at sound of which an immense and bow-legged fisherman appeared upon the scene, lifting a great oar and threatening my annihilation, unless money were put up. however, i was firm and fearless, and finally convinced him that i had not requested the family to stand before the lens, while i showed him i had already added half a _gulden_ to his chest for inspection of the home. comprehending this at last, his anger then turned upon his spouse, and he sulkily drove her and the _kinderen_ within their door, using language that sounded much like the english damn. leaving the island, we came home across the zee and passed through the huge new locks of the river amstel, the "_dam_" of which, keeping out the waters of the zuyder zee, gives to the city its name,--_amstel-dam_. [illustration: among vrow and kinderen, maarken.] the little boat we sailed upon was chiefly filled with holland folk, for we were behind the tourist season. they were a quiet, undemonstrative company and, on the deck, sat about in little groups and were served with schiedam _schnapps_ in small glasses by white-aproned waiters and smoked long, light-colored sumatra cigars. the proverbial hollander, fat and chunky with an enormous pipe, is now a mere tradition. the dutchman of to-day, like his english cousin, is long and lean, and might almost be taken for a new england yankee. an hour by rail brought us to "den haag." we passed among broad meadows, marked by wide black ditches from which gigantic pumps incessantly suck out the seeping waters and pour them into the sea. these meadows were once the bottom of the ocean, the soil being composed of the rich alluvial silt which the continental rivers have for centuries discharged. indeed, holland may be said to consist of the submerged deltas of the rivers scheldt and rhine, which the indefatigable industry of man has rescued from the sea. these lands are of inexhaustible fertility and upon them, everywhere, we saw grazing herds of black-and-white holstein cows, whence come the butter and cheese for which holland is famous, and the delicious milk which is so abundantly offered us at every meal. the roadbed ran high above the meadows, down upon which we looked. here and there we espied a cluster of neat farm buildings, reminding me much of the dutch homesteads along the hudson river valley, and stretching from albany along the mohawk, in new york,--with this difference, however, that here, each house and barn and garden lay surrounded with its own diminutive canal, where were little foot-bridges and skiffs fastened near the kitchen door, even a large canal boat being often moored against a barn, the better to float away the loaded hay. the dutchman finds life intolerable unless he has his own canal right at his threshold. farther along, the landscape was marked with innumerable windmills turning their ponderous arms slowly to the breeze which crept in from the sea; we counted i do not know how many, there seemed never to be an end. the people we saw were stout and rosy-cheeked, and moved with less alertness than do the norwegians, nor did they have about them that air of busy-ness which the modern german begins to show. the impression made by the hollander is that of sureness and deliberation. the cocky strut of the frenchman, who moves ever as though on dress-parade, is entirely wanting to the hollander, whose demure exterior gives no hint of the wealth, the talent, the high importance hid within. the journey from amsterdam to the hague takes scarcely an hour, and before we knew it we drew in to the large station of the dutch capital. the soldierly-clad porters are not here as numerous as in germany, nor did those who served us move with so self-conscious and self-important a gait. men in quiet, dark-blue uniforms quickly put our baggage into an open _fiacre_ and we drove to the hotel of the "twe stadten," a comfortable inn facing a large well-shaded "_park_." we were given a commodious chamber looking out upon a pretty garden and dined, at a later hour, in the long, low-ceilinged dining room. the guests were few, only one other party beside ourselves dining thus late. they were two tall and white-haired dames, gowned in black silk with much old lace round about the throat, and with them a petite and pretty señorita, who spoke in spanish and insisted upon puffing cigarettes. she led the way from the dining room smoking jauntily, the two chaperones following respectfully behind. [illustration: along the zuyder zee.] [illustration: a load of hay, holland.] [illustration: dutch toilers.] [illustration: a watery lane, den haag.] in the morning we spent delightful hours in the national picture galleries looking at the priceless collections of the rembrandts and rubens, which the dutch government has here assembled; in the afternoon we strolled about the clean, quiet city, beneath the over-spreading elms; and then we supped at scheveningen, where we saw the sea again and the last of the season's fashionable folk. a moment before leaving our hotel to take the train, which would carry us to the hook, i had my last adventure among the canny dutch. upon the table in our chamber lay an attractive little ash-receiver, which any smoker must needs long to own. quite naturally, it became entangled with our sundry purchases and scattered belongings and with them was inadvertently put away. just as we were quitting the apartment, the head waiter of the inn, in whose charge we seemed to be, burst in upon us with wild anxiety in his eye and explained in broken english, that he instantly observed, upon scrutinizing the chamber, that a most valuable piece of delft ware had mysteriously disappeared. perhaps we had broken it? at any rate, it was gone and he would be held responsible for its loss. two _gulden_ would barely replace it! "what should he do?" naturally, i explained that my wife by mistake had probably packed it up, and begged him to advise the office that, upon settling my bill, it would give me pleasure to deposit two _gulden_ against the loss. at a later time, when exhibiting this relic to wiser eyes, i was forced to recognize that the little ash-receiver was merely common ware, of value perhaps ten dutch _cents_! so much for the knowing dutchman who traps the traveler in search of souvenirs! two hours after leaving the hague we were upon the ship which would carry us to england. by early morning we were again at harwich, and we arrived in london by mid-afternoon. our only fellow passenger upon the train was a tall, dark, silent man, who carried with him an enormous overcoat of fur. we thought him a russian, and wondered if he also had come directly from the empire of the czar. we are now returned to london, whence we departed five weeks ago. we have crossed the north sea, and journeyed through denmark, and norway, and sweden, and visited their capitals. we have voyaged across the baltic sea and the gulf of finland; we have caught a passing glimpse of helsingfors, and looked upon st. petersburg and moscow, and traveled many hundred _versts_ through the empire of the czar. we have sped through germany and felt at home in the noble cities of berlin and hamburg. we have tarried in amsterdam and den haag, where we felt the strangely familiar atmosphere of dutch new york. we have looked upon many peoples of the teutonic races and, when among them, have felt that subtle throb of kinship, which common blood and common origin awake; we have also plunged a moment within the mediaeval and yet semi-barbarous dominions of the slav and found ourselves upon the threshold of mysterious asia. [illustration: the gossips, den haag.] [illustration: the fish market, den haag.] we have everywhere been thankful in our hearts that we were born and bred beneath the stars and stripes in the great republic of the west, where hope and opportunity are not merely our own, but are also the loadstars which beckon thither the youth and vigor of these older peoples of the world. index aabo elv, alexander nevsky monastery, amagertorv, the, american belles and viking beaux, american dollars and norse farms, american emigration from norway, american influence on norway, american navy, norse sailors in, american spirit, amsterdam, arctic twilight, the, ash receiver, incident of, aurdals vand, the, baegna elv, baltic sea, crossing the, baltic sea, a storm on, bandaks vand, belts, big and little, berlin, city of, berlin, hotel at moscow, bier garten, berlin, blagoveschensk, boerte dal, borgund, ancient church of, breifond, hotel, bruce fjord, brute, a titled, brzesc (brest), buarbrae glacier, the, bug river, caste, influence in russia, cathedral of the archangel michael, cathedral st. basil the blessed, cathedral st. savior, churches and schools in norway, churches, st. petersburg, climate of western coast norway, coasting down the laera dal, condit, mr. and mrs., copenhagen, cossack hordes, cruelty of ivan the terrible, cruelty of peter the great, cruelty of past czars, cruelty of modern russia, dalen, danish friends, our, democratic trend in sweden, denmark, a small country, dinner party, an evening, dining service at ed., discontent of russian masses, dogs of copenhagen, dutch, impressions of the, eida, eids elv, eikon, the, elsinore, esbjerg, etna elv, along the, fagernaes, farming in norway, fat farm lands of russia, finland, finland, the gulf of, flaa vand, fleischer's hotel, fog, the, leaving harwich, folgefonden, ice field, fosheim, france and the jews, france, modern france, contrasted with russia, french fellow-travelers, our, - frydenlund, night at, - gammel strand, the, fish-market, geok tepe, german bride, the lovely, german fellow-travelers clamor for bier, our, german car, in a, german ogre hungry for denmark, germany, we enter, germany, journey to hamburg, gors vand, government monopoly in russia, graft, mulcted for passports, - - granheims vand, gravens vand, gribski, general, grungedals vand, gudvangen, gulden at den haag, two, hague, the, hamburg, hamlet's ghost and grave, hangoe, we make port, hardanger fjord, the, harvesting in norway, harwich, departure from, - harwich, return to, haukeli fjeld, the, haukeli fjeld, descending from the, haymow flying through the air, height of land, crossing above nystuen, helsingborg, helsingfors, herring catch at elsinore, hoch der kaiser, holger danske, legend of, holland, passing through, hollander of today, the, hook of holland, the, hotel berlin, moscow, hotel breifond, horre, hotel continental, stockholm, hotel dagmar, copenhagen, hotel de'l europe, st. petersburg, hotel fleischer's, voss, norway, hotel haukelid, norway, hotel kristiania missions, hotel savoy, berlin, hotel sleibot, elsinore, hotel stalheim, norway, hotel twee stadten, the hague, hotel victoria, amsterdam, imperial apartments, st. petersburg, imperial mail train, russia, ivan the terrible, izvostchiks, - - jew, cultivated citizen of the world, jews' opportunity, the, jewess, russian, jewish synagogue, moscow, jotunheim, jutland, to funen and zealand, juno, a viking, kilefos, king oscar ii, an incident, kischineff, massacres of, kremlin, the, kristiania, kristiania to stockholm, kronborg, kronstadt, fortress of, laera river, the, laerdalsoeren, lap dish-wiper, a, life and color of swedish capital, - loeken upon the slidre vand, london, departure, london, return to, lotefos and skarsfos, lubin, the eating room at, maarken, island of, maarken, in a tight place, maidens milking goats, maristuen, militarism, in germany, military guard, - minsk, moscow, en route to, - moscow, arrive at, moscow, moscow, our guide in, moscow, street life, moscow, we leave, mujiks, frightful poverty of the, - mujiks, hatred of bureaucrats, naeroe fjord, nelson, u. s. senator, neva, entering the river, nordsjoe vand, north sea, crossing the, norwegian bride, a, notes and comments on norse life, notice to police, novo dievitchy, monastery, novogorod, odda, the voyage to, odda to horre, odnaes, ole mon, our driver, ole mon, i fall into rhyme, opheims vand, pageant of russian mass, palaces of st. petersburg, passport system of russia, - peat beds in norway, peter the great, petrovsky, chateau, pixies and sprites, poland and the poles, police at st. petersburg, problems of russia economic, raaben, general von, railroads--danish, - english, german, norwegian, - russian, - - swedish, rand fjord, upon the, recruiting farm hands for america, red square, moscow, religious feeling in russia, rembrandt, revolution in russia inevitable, roldals vand, roosevelt, russians admire, rubens, rundals elv, rurik, house of, - russians barbarians, russian dirt, russia, how we entered, russia, mediaeval and pagan, sandven vand, scandinavian state, united, - scheveningen, schools, in norway, schools, lack of, in russia, - seljestad hotel, our hostess, seljestad juvet, serfs, in russia, ships, on north sea, ships, on gulf of finland, skansen park, skien, skjervefos, the roaring, skodshorn, the legend of the, skogstad, the night at, sleeping car, swedish, slidre vand, smidal fjord, smolensk, snow, the first, snows, distant, sogne fjord, on the, south african trooper, incident, sparrow hills, staa vand, staavanger, stalheim to vossvangen, stars, we are the, stockholm, stockholm and the swede, stockholm, the hotel at, stockholm, life and color of, st. peter and st. paul, church of, st. petersburg, stranda vand, the, summary of impressions, sund, the, sund, the, crossing to sweden, swede and norsk, differentiation of, swedish coffee house, a, swedish sleeping car, a, telemarken fjords, the, - teutonic kinship, thier garten, berlin, three continents, tivoli gardens, copenhagen, tomlevolden, tonsaasen, sanitorium of, trolls and pixies, trolls and witches, tver, city of, tvinde elv, twilight, the arctic, ulivaa vand, utro vand, vangs vand, vangsmjoesen vand, valdai hills, volga river, - voss or vossvangen, voxli vand, warships, incident of american, wealth of churches, st. petersburg, - wealth of few, poverty of many, russia, - - wealth of few, russia, wedding party, a, wein stube, hamburg, western alps of norway, winter, preparation for, workingmen's square, zuyder zee, [illustration: map of north europe.] [illustration: map of scandinavia and baltic russia, in profile.] transcriber's note: text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_). small capital text has been replaced with all capitals. the carat character (^) indicates that the following letter is superscripted (example: m^r.). if two or more letters are superscripted they are enclosed in curly brackets (example: moun^{t.s}). * * * * * [illustration: pagoda and gardens of the emperor's summer palace, yuen-min-yuen. photo. by beato. (_frontispiece._)] the siberian overland route from peking to petersburg, through the deserts and steppes of mongolia, tartary, &c. by alexander michie. [illustration: tomb at the depot, peking.] london: john murray, albemarle street. . preface. the following work has but moderate claims, i fear, to public attention; and it would probably not have seen the light at all but for the urgent request of friends, who think better of it than the author does. it has no pretensions to any higher merit than that of being a plain narrative of the journey, and an impartial record of my own impressions of the people among whom i travelled. although some portions of the route have been eloquently described by huc and others, i am not aware that any continuous account of the whole journey between the capitals of china and russia has appeared in the english language for nearly a century and a half. important changes have occurred in that period; and, if i may judge of others by myself, i suspect that many erroneous notions are afloat respecting the conditions of life in these far-off regions, and more especially in siberia. observation has modified my own pre-conceived opinions on many of the subjects touched on in the following pages, and i am not without a hope that they will be found to contain some information which may be new to many people in this country. if i have indulged in irrelevant digressions, i can only say that i have limited myself to those reflections which naturally suggested themselves in the course of my travels; and the subjects i have given most prominence to are simply those which happened to be the most interesting to myself. my thanks are due to various friends for useful hints, confirming and correcting my own observations; but i am especially indebted for some valuable notes on siberia, its social phenomena, gold mines, &c., to edwin e. bishop, esq., whose long residence in the country, and perfect acquaintance with the language and customs of the people, constitute him an authority on all matters connected with that part of the world. , berkeley square, _october th, _. contents. chapter i. shanghai to tientsin. page john bell--"overland" routes--peking a sealed book--jesuits-- opening of china--chinese jealousy of mongolia--errors of british policy--their results--preparations for journey-- leave shanghae--yang-tse-kiang-- changes in its channel-- elevation of the delta--chinese records of inundations--the nanzing--shantung promontory in a fog--chinese coasters-- advantages of steam--our fellow-passengers--peiho river-- intricate navigation--sailors in china--tientsin--new settlement--municipal council--improvements--trade--beggars-- health--sand-storms--gambling chapter ii. tientsin to peking. modes of travelling--carts, horses, boats--filthy banks of the peiho--voyage to tungchow--our boat's crew--chinese distances-- traffic on the peiho--temple at tungchow--mercantile priests-- ride to peking--millet--eight-mile bridge--resting place-- tombs--filial piety--cemeteries--old statues--water communication into peking--grain supply chapter iii. peking. walls of peking--dust and dirt--street obstructions--the model inn--restaurant--our boon companions--peking customs--rule of thumb--british legation--confucian temple--kienloong's pavilion--lama temple--mongol chants--roman and bhuddist analogies--mongols and chinese--hospitality of lay brother-- observatory--street cries--temple of heaven--theatres-- european residents--medical mission under dr. lockhart-- chinese jealousy of mongolia--russian diplomacy--reckoning with our host--ice--paper-money chapter iv. peking to chan-kia-kow. return to tungchow--disappointment--priest conciliated by russian language--back to peking--negotiations--ma-foo's peculation--chinese honesty and knavery--loading the caravan--mule-litters--leave peking--sha-ho--cotton plant-- nankow--crowded inn--difficult pass--inner "great wall"-- cha-tow--chinese mahommedans--religious toleration--christians in disfavour--change of scene--hwai-lai--ruins of bridge--bed of old river--road traffic--watch-towers--chi-ming-i--legend of monastery--the yang-ho--pass--shan-shui-pu--coal-- suen-wha-fu--ride to chan-kia-kow chapter v. chan-kia-kow. arrival at chan-kia-kow--focus of trade--mixed population-- wealth--mongols--russians--name of kalgan--chinese friends--russian hospitality--disappointment--proposed excursion to bain-tolochoi--camels at last procured-- noetzli returns to tientsin--the pass--mountains--great wall--the horse-fair--dealers--ox-carts--transport of wood from urga--shoeing smiths--our russian host arrives--the "samovar"--tea-drinking in russia--change of temperature-- elevation of chan-kia-kow--preparations for the desert-- cabbages--warm boots--camels arrive--leave chan-kia-kow-- the pass--superiority of mules, &c., over camels chapter vi. mongolia. leave china--mishap in the pass--steep ascent--chinese perseverance--agricultural invasion--our first encampment-- cold night--pastoral scene--introduction to the mongols--the land of tents--our conductors--order of march--mongol chants--the lama--slow travelling--pony "dolonor"--night travelling--our mongols' tent--argols--visitors--mongol instinct--camels quick feeders--sport--antelopes--lame camels--scant pastures--endurance of mongols--disturbed sleep--optical illusions--"yourt," mongol tent--domestic arrangements--etiquette--mongol furniture--sand-grouse-- track-- wind and rain--a wretched night--comfortless encampment--camels breaking down--the camel seasons--no population--no grass--mingan chapter vii. mongolia--_continued_. visitors at mingan--trading--scene with a drunken mongol-- good horsemen--bad on foot--knowledge of money--runaway pony--a polite shepherd--gunshandak--wild onions--halt-- expert butcher--mongol sheep, extraordinary tails--a mongol feast--effects of diet--taste for fat explained--mongol fasts--our cooking arrangements--camel ailings--maggots-- rough treatment--ponies falling off--live in hopes--dogs-- the harvest moon--waiting for kitat--lamas and their inhabitants--resume the march--meet caravan--stony roads--disturbed sleep--gurush--negotiations at kutul-usu-- salt plains--sporting lama--ulan-khada--trees--reach tsagan-tuguruk--lamas and black men--small temple--musical failure--our new acquaintances--horse-dealing--greed of mongols--fond of drink--a theft--the incantation--kitat returns--camel lost--vexatious delay--start from tsagan-tuguruk chapter viii. mongolia--_continued_. marshes--camels dislike water--chinese caravan--travellers' tales--taryagi--looking for cattle in the dark-- butyn-tala--an addition to our party--russian courier-- water-fowl--bad water--kicking camel--pass of ulin-dhabha-- mongols shifting quarters--slip 'tween the cup and the lip--mountains--the north wind--guntu-gulu--an accident-- medical treatment--protuberant ears--marmots--ice--dark night--bain-ula--living, not travelling--charm of desert life--young pilgrim--grand scenery--steep descent--obon-- horror of evil spirits--mongol and chinese notions of devils--dread of rain--a wet encampment--snow--the white mountains--the bactrian camel--capability of enduring cold-- job's comforters--woods appear--the yak--change of fuel chapter ix. urga to kiachta. maimachin in sight--a snow storm--hasty encampment--tolla in flood--delay--intercourse with mongols--the night watches--tellig's family--rough night--scene at the tolla-- crossing the river--the "kitat" redivivus--his hospitality--how mongols clean their cups--maimachin--the russian consulate--russian ambition--its prospects--the urga, or camp--kuren--fine situation--buildings-- horse-shoeing--hawkers--the lamaseries--an ascetic--the lama-king--relations between chinese emperors and the lama power--urga and kara korum--historical associations--prester john and genghis khan--leave urga--slippery paths-- more delays--the pass--a snow storm--fine scenery--rich country--another bugbear--the boro valley--cultivation-- khara-gol--the pass--lama courier--shara-gol--winter quarters--the transmigration--iro-gol--forced march-- kiachta in sight chapter x. mongols--historical notes. early history of huns--wars with china--dispersion--appear in europe--attila--his career--and death--turks--mixture of races--consanguinity of huns and mongols--genghis--his conquests--divisions of his empire--timour--a mahommedan-- his wars--and cruelties--baber--the great mogul in india-- dispersion of tribes--modern divisions of the mongols-- warlike habits--religions--the causes of their success in war considered--their heroes--their characters--and military talents--superstition--use of omens-- destructiveness and butcheries of the huns and mongols-- antagonistic traits of character--depraved moral instincts--necessity of culture to develop human feelings--flesh-eating not brutalising--dehumanising tendency of war--military qualities of pastoral peoples-- dormant enthusiasm of the mongols chapter xi. mongols--physical and mental characteristics. physical characteristics--meanness--indolence--failure in agriculture--hospitality--its origin--pilfering--honesty-- drunkenness--smoking--ir'chi or kumiss--morality--of lamas--women fond of ornaments--decency of dress-- physique--low muscular energy--a wrestling match--bad legs--bow-legged--its causes--complexions--eyes--absence of beard--comparison with chinese and japanese--effect of habits on physical development--animal instincts in nomads--supply the place of artificial appliances-- permanence of types of character--uniformity in primitive peoples--causes that influence colour of skin--mongol powers of endurance--low mental capacity--its causes-- superstition produced by their habits--predisposed to spiritual thraldom--the lamas and their practices-- prayers--knaveries of lamas--vagabond lamas--the spread of bhuddism--superior to shamanism--shaman rites--political result of bhuddism--the mongol kings--serfs chapter xii. kiachta. approach kiachta--maimachin--chinese elegance--the frontier--russian eagle--the commissary of the frontier-- "times" newspaper--kiachta--troitskosarfsk--meet a countryman--part from our mongols--their programme--a russian bath--siberian refinement--streets and pavement-- russian conveyances--aversion to exercise-- semi-civilisation--etiquette--mixture of peoples--wealth of russian merchants--narrow commercial views--the chinese of maimachin--domestic habits--russian and chinese characters compared--chinese more civilised than the russians--the custom-house--liberal measures--our droshky-- situation of kiachta--supplies--population--hay-market-- fish--the garden--domestic gardening--climate salubrious-- construction of houses--stoves--russian meals--commercial importance of kiachta--inundation of the selenga-- travelling impracticable--money-changing--new travelling appointments--tarantass--passports--danger of delay--prepare to start--first difficulty--siberian horses--post-bell chapter xiii. kiachta to the baikal. leave troitskosarfsk--hilly roads--bouriats--the first post-station--agreeable surprise--another stoppage--a night on the hill-side--hire another carriage--reach the selenga--the ferry--selenginsk--a gallery of art-- cultivation--verchne udinsk--effects of the inundation-- slough of despond--fine scenery--a dangerous road--a press of travellers--favour shown us--angry poles-- ilyensk--an obsequious postmaster--tidy post-house--a night at ilyensk--treachery suspected--roads destroyed-- difficult travelling--an old pole--baikal lake--station at pasoilské--a night scene--the selenga river--and valley--agriculture--cattle, sheep, pigs, dogs chapter xiv. lake baikal to irkutsk. morning scene at pasoilské--better late than never-- victimised--russian junks--primitive navigators--storms on the baikal--scene at the shipping port--religious ceremony--a polite officer--inconvenience of the baikal route--engineering enterprise--more delay--fares by the baikal steamer--crowing and crouching--the embarkation--the general karsakof--a naval curiosity--the lake--its depth-- and area--the "holy sea"--the passage--terra firma-- custom-house delay--fine country--good roads--hotels amoor and metzgyr chapter xv. irkutsk. in sight of irkutsk--handsome town--wrong hotel--bad accommodation--suffocation--bad attendance--the cuisine-- venerable eggs--billiards--meet a friend--beauties of irkutsk--milliners--bakers--tobacconists--prison-- convicts--benevolence of old ladies--equipages--libraries-- theatre--population--governor--generalship--the levée-- governing responsibilities--importance of commerce-- manufactures insignificant--education--attractions of siberia--society--polish exiles--the decembrists--the sentence of banishment--its hereditary effect--low standing of merchants--discomforts of travelling--engage a servant--the prodigal--a mistake--early winter--the angara--floating-bridge--parting view of irkutsk chapter xvi. irkutsk to krasnoyarsk. leave irkutsk--roads and rivers--capacity for sleep-- bridges--break-neck travelling--endurance of russian ponies--verst-posts--appalling distances--irregular feeding--tea _versus_ grog--river birusa--boundary of irkutsk and yenisei--stoppage--the telegraph wires-- improved roads--river kan--the ferrymen--kansk--a new companion--prisoner of war--advantages and disadvantages of travelling in company--improved cultivation--a snow-storm--cold wind--absurd arrangement of stations-- the river yenisei--mishap at the ferry--the approach to krasnoyarsk--the town--population--hotel--travellers' accounts--confusion at the station--the black-book--the courier service chapter xvii. krasnoyarsk to tomsk. sledges--sulky yemschiks--progress to achinsk--limit of eastern siberia--game--the chulim--difficult ferry-- government of tomsk--bad roads again--job's comforters-- mariinsk--an accident--and another--resources of a yemschik--a drive through a forest--ishimskaya--a day too late--a sporting pole--disappointment--annoying delay--freezing river--a cold bath--sledge travelling--a night scene--early birds--arrive in tomsk--our lodging-- religion of russians--scruples of a murderer--population and situation of tomsk--fire insurance--climate of tomsk-- supply of water--carefulness and hardiness--skating--demure little boys--an extinct species--the gold diggings--the siberian tribes chapter xviii. tomsk to omsk. refitting--the optician--the feather-pillow question--a friend in need--a dilemma--schwartz's folly--old barnaul leaves us--we leave tomsk--a weary night--a russian dormitory--construction of houses--cross the tom--and the ob--enter the baraba steppe--kolivan--the telegraph--the ladies of baraba--game--windmills--a frozen marsh--kainsk-- reach oms--outbreaks on the kirghis steppe--russian aggression--its effects on different tribes chapter xix. omsk to ochansk. leave omsk--recruiting--cross the irtish--tukalinsk-- yalootorofsk--reach tumen--improved posting--snowroads-- ekaterineburg--mint--precious stones--iron works-- englishmen in siberia--iron mines--fish trade--a recruiting scene--temperature rising--game--the urals--disappointing-- a new companion--the boundary between europe and asia-- yermak the cossack--discovery and conquest of siberia-- reach perm--too late again--progress of inland navigation-- facilities for application of steam--water routes of siberia--railways--tatars--cross the kama to ochansk-- dissolving view of snow roads chapter xx. russian and siberian peasantry. siberian and russian peasantry--the contrast--freedom and slavery--origin of siberian peasants--their means of advancement--exiles--two classes--their offences and punishments--privileges after release--liberality of the government--its object--extent of forest--one serf-proprietor in siberia--exemptions from conscription-- rigour of the climate on the lena and yenisei--settlers on angara exempted from taxes--improvement of siberian peasants--a bright future--amalgamation of classes--slavery demoralising to masters--the emancipation of the serfs-- its results chapter xxi. kazan.--polish exiles. road to kazan--polish prisoners--arrive at kazan--more croaking--temptations to delay--sell our sledge--view of kazan--the ferry at the volga--ice-boats and icebergs--the military--tatars--polish exiles--kindly treated by their escort--erroneous ideas on this subject--the distribution of exiles in siberia--their life there--the polish insurrection--its objects--imprudence--consequences--success would have been a second failure chapter xxii. kazan to petersburg. a day lost--the moujik's opportunity--return to kazan--hotel "ryazin"--grease and butter--evening entertainment--try again--the ferry--a term of endearment--ferrymen's devotions--a jew publican--"pour boire"--villages and churches--the road to nijni--penance--a savage--a miserable night--reach nijni--"sweet is pleasure after pain"--the great fair--nijni under a cloud--delights of railway travelling--a contrast--reach moscow--portable gas--foundling hospital--the moscow and petersburg railway--grandeur of petersburg--late season--current topics--iron-clads--the currency--effects of crimean war-- russian loyalty--alexander ii. as a reformer--leave petersburg chapter xxiii. russia and china. earlier intercourse--analogies and contrasts--progress of russia and decadence of china--permanence of chinese institutions--arrogance justified--not really bigoted-- changes enforced by recent events--the rebellion-- fallacious views in parliament--british interest in china--a bright future--railways--telegraphs--machinery and other improvements--resources to be developed--free cities postscript list of illustrations. page pagoda and gardens of the emperor's summer palace, yuen-min-yuen. (from a photograph by beato) _frontispiece._ tomb at the depot. peking. (from a photograph by beato) _vignette._ tung chow pagoda. (from a photograph by beato) walls of peking. (from a photograph by beato) pavilion of the summer palace of yuen-min-yuen. (from a photograph by beato) thibetian monument in lama temple. peking. (from a photograph by beato) great temple of heaven. peking. (from a photograph by beato) part of the emperor's palace, yuen-min-yuen. destroyed . (from a photograph by beato) the nankow pass halt in the desert of gobi fording the tolla near urga view of ekaterinburg. siberia. (from a russian photograph). [illustration: a general map of northern asia. _m^r. michie's route coloured._ _london john murray, albemarle s^t_] the siberian overland route from peking to petersburg. chapter i. shanghae to tientsin. the charming narrative of john bell, of antermony, who, in the reign of peter the great, travelled from petersburg to peking in the suite of a russian ambassador, inspired me with a longing desire to visit siberia and other little-known regions through which he passed. having occasion to return to england, after a somewhat protracted residence on the coast of china, an opportunity presented itself of travelling through the north of china, mongolia, and siberia, on my homeward journey. this is, indeed, the real "overland route" from china, and it may as properly be styled "maritime," as the mail route per p. & o. steamers "overland." the so-called overland route has, however, strong temptations for a person eager to get home. there is a pleasing simplicity about the manner of it which is a powerful attraction to one who is worn out with sleepless nights in a hot climate. it is but to embark on a steamer; attend as regularly at meal times as your constitution will permit; sleep, or what is the same thing, read, during the intervals; and fill up the blanks by counting the passing hours and surveying your fellow passengers steeped in apoplectic slumbers under the enervating influence of the tropics. the sea route has, moreover, a decided advantage in point of time. in forty-five or fifty days i could have reached england from shanghae by steamer: the land journey viâ siberia i could not hope to accomplish in less than ninety days. but the northern route had strong attractions for me in the kind of vague mystery that invests the geography of strange countries, and the character, manners, and customs of their inhabitants. ever-recurring novelties might be expected to keep the mind alive; and active travelling would in a great measure relieve the tedium of a long and arduous journey. of the two, therefore, i preferred the prospect of being frozen in siberia to being stewed in the red sea. the heat of shanghae in the summer was intense and almost unprecedented, the supply of ice was fast undergoing dissolution, and an escape into colder regions at such a time was more than usually desirable. a few years ago it would have been about as feasible to travel from china to england by way of the moon as through peking and mongolia. peking was a sealed book, jealously guarded by an arrogant, because an ignorant, government. little was known of the city of the khans except what the jesuits had communicated in the last century, and what that prince of travellers, marco polo, had handed down from the middle ages. no foreigner dared show his face there, except in the guise of a native, and even then at the risk of being detected and subjected to the greatest indignities. the jesuits, it is true, in the face of the prohibition, continued to smuggle themselves into china, and even into peking itself, and their perseverance and tenacity of purpose are entitled to all praise. but they occasionally paid dearly for their temerity, and not unfrequently got themselves and their "christians" into hot water with the authorities. this received the high-sounding name of "persecution;" and if any one lost his life for meddling in other people's affairs, or interfering with the prerogative of the government, he was honoured with the name of a "martyr." the jesuits had their day of power in china, and if they had but used it modestly they might still have stood at the elbow of the emperor. they were tried and found wanting, expelled from peking, and china was closed against foreigners, not, it must be confessed, without some reason. all that has been changed again. the curtain has risen once more; foreigners are free to traverse the length and breadth of china, and to spy out the nakedness of the land. the treaty of tientsin and convention of peking, ratified in november, , which opened up china to travellers for "business or pleasure," was largely taken advantage of in the following year. in , foreign steamers penetrated by the great river yang-tsze into the heart of china. four enterprising foreigners explored the river to a distance of miles from the sea, and many other excursions were set on foot by foreigners, in regions previously known only through the accounts of chinese geographers or the partial, imperfect, and in some instances obsolete, descriptions of the older jesuits. mongolia, being within the dominions of the emperor of china, was included in the passport system; and although the chinese government has made a feeble attempt to impose restrictions on foreign travellers in that region on the ground that, although chinese, it is not china, up to the present time no serious obstacles have been placed in the way of free intercourse in mongolia; nor can the plain language of the treaty be limited in its interpretation, unless the ministers of the treaty powers should voluntarily abandon the privilege now enjoyed. it is devoutly to be hoped that no envoy of great britain will again commit the error of waiving rights once granted by the chinese. however unimportant such abandoned rights may appear, experience has shown that the results are not so. sir michael seymour's war at canton in - could never have occurred if our undoubted right to reside in that city had been insisted on some years previously. our disaster at the taku forts in would have been prevented if the right of our minister to reside in peking had not, in a weak moment, been waived. what complications have not arisen in japan, from our consenting to undo half lord elgin's treaty and allowing the port of osaca to remain closed to our merchantmen! we cannot afford to make concessions to asiatic powers. give them an inch and they will take an ell: then fleets and armies must be brought into play to recover ground we have lost through sheer wantonness. too late to join a party who preceded me, i had some difficulty in finding a companion for the journey, but had the good fortune to make the acquaintance of a young gentleman from lyons, who purposed going to france by the siberian route with or without a companion. we at once arranged matters to our mutual satisfaction, and proceeded with the preparations necessary for the journey. having the advantage of excellent practical advice on this head from gentlemen who had already gone over the ground, we had little difficulty in getting up our outfit. a tent was indispensable for mongolia, and we got a very commodious one from a french officer. a military cork mattress, with waterproof sheets, proved invaluable in the desert. our clothing department was inconveniently bulky, because we had to provide both for very hot and very cold weather. the commissariat was liberally supplied, rather overdone, as it turned out, but that was a fault on the safe side. the accounts we heard of the "hungry desert," where nothing grows but mutton, induced us to lay in supplies not only for an ordinary journey across, but for any unforeseen delay we might encounter on the way. we had first to get to tientsin, six hundred miles from shanghae, and two steamers were under despatch for that port. i embarked on board the _nanzing_, captain morrison, about midnight on the th july, . taking advantage of the bright moon, we steamed cautiously down the river wong-poo for fourteen miles, past the village of woosung, "outside the marks," and into the great river yang-tsze, where we cast anchor for the night. it would be hazardous to attempt the navigation of the estuary of the yang-tsze, even in bright moonlight. its banks are so flat as to afford no marks to steer by. the estuary is very wide, but the deep water channel is narrow, with extensive shallows on either side. the upper parts of the yang-tsze-kiang, where the river narrows to a mile or two in breadth, and flows through a bolder country, are more easy of navigation. in the broad part of the river, near its mouth, the deep water channels have a tendency to shift their positions. the surveys of the river from its mouth to nanking, made in , were found inapplicable in . where shallows were marked in , deep water was found in , and dry patches were found where the navigable channels were before. the delta of this noble river is rapidly growing into dry land; the "banks" are fast rising into islands, and the channels of the river becoming more circumscribed. the rapidity with which this process is going on is most remarkable. from a point nearly fifty miles from the mouth of the river it is divided into two great branches, called by hydrographers the north and the south entrances. twenty years ago extensive shallows lay between, and many a good ship found a final resting-place on these treacherous banks. the most dangerous of these are now above water, and are visible from a distance sufficient to enable the pilot to keep clear of them. in the small river wang-poo also, at and below the town of shanghae, the land is gaining considerably on the water. an island has formed and is still growing near the mouth of the wang-poo, known to pilots as the "middle-ground." until a very few years ago it was entirely under water. in the year i was aground on the top of it in a schooner near low water, and the rising tide floated us off easily. the island is now so high as to remain uncovered in the highest spring tides. thus, in the space of eight years, this island has risen more than twelve, and probably not less than eighteen feet. the formation is extending itself downwards; the tail of the island stretching away under water brought up many vessels in and , where there was plenty of water a year or two before. on the south shore of the yang-tsze-kiang the lines of embankment mark the different stages of the aggression of the land on the water. when a dry flat was formed liable to inundations in high tides, an embankment of mud was built for the protection of the inhabitants who settled on the reclaimed land. in process of time more land was made, and another embankment formed. thus three distinct lines of embankment, several miles inland from the present water line, are to be traced from below woosung towards hang-chow bay, and a very large tract of good arable land has been reclaimed from the river, or, as the chinese call it, the sea, within comparatively modern times. from the causes we see now in active operation, it is easy to trace the formation of the vast alluvial plain which now supports so many millions of inhabitants. there are, indeed, intimations in the chinese records of some of these changes. islands in the sea are mentioned but a few centuries back, which are now hills in inhabited districts. in the dawn of chinese history allusions are made to a great flood which desolated the land, and the emperor yaou has been immortalised for his achievements in subduing and regulating the waters. yaou reigned about b.c., and the rising of the waters in his time has been referred by some to the noachian deluge. but the chinese empire at that time extended as far south as the great river, and included three great valleys. it is not an improbable conjecture therefore that there was a large circumference of debateable land barely reclaimed from the sea. with the imperfect means then at command for keeping out the water it is easy to suppose that an unusually high tide would break down the defences and overflow the flat country. it may also be, of course, that then, as now, the yellow river caused trouble by arbitrarily changing its course, and the patriotic labours of yaou may have been limited to damming up that wayward stream, which has been called "china's sorrow." but the chronicles of the great inundation do not appear to have been satisfactorily explained, and it may be said of the annals of the reigns of yaou and shun, that the interest which attaches to them is in direct proportion to their obscurity. a few hours' steaming on the th took us out of the turbid waters of the yang-tsze-kiang, but during the whole of that day we continued in shallow water of a very light sea-green colour. the weather was fine, and though still extremely hot, the fresh sea air soon produced a magical effect on our enfeebled digestion. the voyage was as pleasant as a good ship, a good table, and a courteous commander could make it. on the th a thick fog settled down on the water, and on the following morning all eyes were anxiously straining after the shantung promontory, which was the turning-point of our voyage. by dead reckoning we were close to it, but there is no accounting for the effect of the currents that sweep round this bold headland. the tide rushes into the gulf of pecheli by one side of the entrance, and out at the other. but from the conformation of the gulf the tidal currents are subject to disturbances from various causes, of which the direction of the wind is the most potent. a north-westerly wind keeps the tide wave at bay, and drives the water out of the gulf, until its level has been lowered several feet below that of the ocean. great irregularities in the ebb and flow are occasioned by this; and when the cause ceases to act, the reaction is proportionate to the amount of disturbance; the pent-up waters from without flow in with impetuosity, and the equilibrium is restored. in the dense fog, our commander could only crawl along cautiously, stopping now and again to listen for the sound of men's voices, or the barking of dogs, take soundings, and watch for any indications of the near vicinity of land. at length, to our great joy, the fog lifted over a recognisable point of the promontory, and immediately settled down again. the glimpse was sufficient however, and the good steamer was at once headed westward, for the mouth of the peiho river, and bowled along fearlessly on her way. as the sun rose higher the mist was dispersed, and the bold rugged outline of the shantung coast was unveiled before us. the clear blue water was alive with chinese coasting craft, small and large, of most picturesque appearance. the heavy, unwieldy junks of northern china lay almost motionless, their widespread sails hanging idly to the mast, for there was just wind enough to ripple the surface of the water in long patches, leaving large spaces of glassy smoothness untouched by the breeze. the crews of the northern junks are hardy stalwart fellows, inured to labour, and zealous in their work. their vessels are built very low-sided, to enable them to be propelled by oars when the wind fails them. the crews work cheerily at their oars, both night and day, when necessary, keeping time to the tune of their half-joyous, half-melancholy boat-songs. with all their exertions, however, they drive the shapeless lump but slowly through the water, and one cannot help feeling pity for the poor men, and regret for the waste of so much manual labour. it is to be hoped that this hardy race of seamen will find more fruitful fields wherein to turn their strength to account when foreign vessels and steamers have superseded the time-honoured but extravagant system of navigation in china. this end has, indeed, been already reached to a certain extent. china has been imbued with the progressive spirit of the world, to the great advantage both of themselves and foreigners. the southern coasts swarm with steamers, and the gulf of pecheli, in this the third year from the opening of foreign trade in the north, was regularly visited by trading steamers. in all discussions in england on the subject of the development of trade in china, the vast coasting trade is generally overlooked, as a matter in which we have no interest. this is a mistake, however, for foreigners have a considerable share in that trade directly, and their steamers and sailing vessels are employed to a very large extent by the chinese merchants. all produce is very materially reduced in price to the consumer by the facilities for competition among merchants which improved communication affords, and by the diminution in expenses of carriage, which is the necessary result. the rapidity with which foreign vessels can accomplish their voyages as compared with chinese junks enables the native trader to make so many more ventures in a given time, that he can afford to take smaller profits than formerly, and yet on the average be no loser. or even if the average results of the year's trade be less profitable to individuals than before, its benefits are spread over a greater number, and, in the aggregate, suffer no diminution. the general interests of the country have been subserved in an important degree by the extension of the coasting trade, where no disturbing influences have been at work; and the prosperity of the general population cannot fail to react favourably on the mercantile class, through whom the prosperity primarily comes. chefoo, the new settlement on the shantung coast, is frequently a port of call for steamers trading between shanghae and tientsin. we did not touch there in the _nanzing_, but passed at a distance of twelve miles from the bluff rocky headland from which the settlement takes its name. before darkness had closed in the view we had reached the mia-tau group of islands which connect the mountain ranges of shantung, by a continuous chain, with the liau-tung promontory at the north of the entrance of the gulf of pecheli. there is not much difficulty or danger in getting through these islands even at night, but it is always an object to a navigator to reach them before dark. the course is then clear for the peiho, and he has a whole night's straight run before him with nothing to look out for. the peiho river must be an awkward place to "make," except in clear weather. the land is lower even than that of the valley of the yang-tsze-kiang; the shoal water runs out a long distance into the gulf; and a dangerous sand spit, partly above, and partly under water, stretches fifty miles out to sea on the north of the approach to the river. on reaching the outer anchorage, where vessels of heavy draught lie, the celebrated taku forts are dimly visible in the haze of the horizon, and masts may be seen inside the river, but the low land on either side is still invisible. a shoal bar, with a very hard bottom, lies between the outer anchorage and the river, and the _nanzing_, drawing less than ten feet, was obliged to anchor outside until the rising tide enabled her to get in. our chinese fellow passengers, who had kept remarkably quiet during the voyage, as is their invariable custom, became animated as we ran in between the taku forts. they were a motley crowd of all classes of people--mercantile, literary, and military. the students who go to peking to undergo examinations for literary degrees travel now in great numbers by steamer, and doubtless many who, from want of means, want of time, or from any other cause, might hesitate before undertaking such a long journey by the old land route, are now enabled, by means of the coasting steamers, to accomplish the object so deeply cherished by all chinese literati. the "plucked" ones, and there are many such in china, can now more easily renew their efforts. men have been known to repair year after year to the examination-hall from their youth upwards, and get plucked every time,--yet, undaunted by constant failure, they persevere in their vain exertions to the winter of their days. the country that can produce such models of perseverance in a hopeless cause may claim to possess elements of vitality, and the usual proportion of fools. among our chinese passengers was an athlete from fokien, who was bound to peking to try his prowess in archery. he was a man of great muscular power, fat, and even corpulent. it is remarkable that the training system adopted for the development of the muscles should produce so much fat. i had not observed this before in the chinese; indeed, the few feats of strength i have seen performed by them have been by men well proportioned and free from fat. but the japanese wrestlers, who are carefully trained, are generally fat. the entrance to the peiho was, as usual, crowded with native and foreign craft, and so narrow and tortuous is the river that great care is necessary to work a long steamer through without accident. tientsin is distant from taku, by the windings of the river, between sixty and seventy miles. by the cart road it is only thirty-six. the _nanzing_ made good way up the river until darkness compelled her to anchor. in the morning the difficulties of the inland navigation began. the river was actually too small for a steamer over two hundred feet long, the turns were too sharp, the ordinary means of handling a steamer were no longer of any avail,--we hauled round several bad turns by means of anchors passed on shore in the boats, but were at length baffled after running the steamer's nose into cabbage-gardens, breaking down fences, and alarming the villagers, who turned out _en masse_ to watch the iron monster as she struggled to force a passage out of her natural element. partly out of compassion for the men, who were worn out with the uncongenial toil of trudging knee-deep through heavy mud, planting anchors and picking them up again, and partly from some vague hope of a change of tide in the afternoon, the steamer was brought to anchor and hands piped to dinner. the crews of steamers on the coast of china are usually of a cosmopolite character, chiefly malays, with a boat's crew of chinese, the foreign element being reduced to a minimum comprising the officers and engineers. asiatic sailors do very well when there are plenty of them, the estimate of their value being two of them to one european. they sail for lower wages, but not low enough to compensate the ship-owner for the additional numbers that are necessary. but the asiatics are more easily handled than europeans; their regular "watches" may be broken in upon with impunity; they are easier fed, and less addicted to quarrelling with their bread and butter than europeans, and more especially englishmen. but any doubt on the part of a shipmaster as to what crew he will employ, will generally be solved by the sailors themselves, who, if english or american, will desert at every port the vessel touches at. having my saddle and bridle handy i landed at a village, and borrowing a horse from the farmers, rode to tientsin, which was only some eight miles distant by the road. the heat was scorching, but greatly mitigated by the mass of bright green foliage that covered the whole country. the soil though dry and dusty is rich to exuberance, fruit grows in great abundance, and, for china, in great perfection. apples, pears, peaches, apricots, loquats, grapes, are common everywhere in the north, which may be considered the orchard of china. the waving crops of millet, interspersed with patches of beans, and here and there strips of hemp, fill up a vast green ground dotted thickly with villages and pretty clumps of trees. the houses form a dull contrast to the cheerful aspect of the country. in most of the villages they are constructed of mud and straw, which becomes hard enough to be impervious to rain, but the dull parched colour, the small apertures for doors and windows, and general cheerlessness of exterior painfully oppress the sight. the dust of the roads is also an unfavourable medium through which to view the tame though rich beauties of the country. the north of china is cursed with dust, the roads generally are as bad as the road to epsom on a "derby day," when that happy event happens to come off in dry weather. i got back to the _nanzing_ in time for the final effort to double the difficult corner. the first attempt was successful, and we steamed on gaily through fields and gardens, washing the banks with the wave formed in our wake, which sometimes broke over the legs of unwary celestials who stood gazing after the steamer in stupid wonder like a cow at a railway train. the chinese take such mishaps good-naturedly--the spectators are always amused, and the victims themselves when the shock of surprise passes off laugh at the joke. the most serious obstacle to our progress had yet to come, however, the "double," a point where the river bends abruptly like the figure s compressed vertically. extra caution being used there, the appliances of anchors and warps were efficacious, and we passed the double successfully. the smoke of the _waratah_, a steamer that left shanghae the day before us, and which we had passed at sea, now appeared over the trees close to us. there were several reaches of the river between us, however, and we traced the black column of smoke passing easily round the bends that had caused us such difficulty. the _waratah_ was gaining on us fast, and late in the evening her black hull appeared under our stern, while the _nanzing_ was jammed at the last bend of the river, unable either to get round herself or to make room for the smaller vessel. hours were spent in ineffectual endeavours to proceed--the tantalised _waratah_ could stand it no longer--the captain thought he saw room to pass us, and came up at full speed between us and the bank. but as the sailors say "night has no eyes" even when the moon is shining, and our friend paid for his temerity by crashing his paddle box against our bow. time and patience enabled us to reach tientsin at midnight on the st august, after spending half as much time in the peiho river as the whole sea voyage had occupied. i have said enough, and probably much more than enough, to demonstrate the difficulty of navigating the peiho river with vessels not adapted to it. no vessel should attempt it that is over one hundred and fifty feet in length, for though the risk of loss from stranding is extremely small, the loss of time to large vessels must be serious. a marvellous transformation had taken place in tientsin since my previous visit to it in . at that time the few european merchants who had settled there were confined to the chinese town, the filthiest and most offensive of all the filthy places wherein celestials love to congregate. now in , the "settlement," that necessary adjunct of every treaty port in china, had been made over to foreigners, laid out in streets, and a spacious quay and promenade on the river bank formed, faced riverwards with solid masonry, the finest thing of the kind in china, throwing into the shade altogether the famous "bund" at shanghae. the affairs of the settlement are administered by a thoroughly organised "municipal council" after the example of shanghae, the "model settlement." the newly opened ports have an immense advantage over the original five in having the experience of nearly twenty years to guide them in all preliminary arrangements. that experience shows first--although the soundness of the deduction has been questioned by some able men--the desirability of securing foreign settlements where merchants, consuls, and missionaries may live in a community of their own entirely distinct from the native towns, within which they may put in operation their own police regulations, lay out streets to their own liking, drain, light, and otherwise improve the settlement, levy and disburse their own municipal taxes, and, in short, conduct their affairs as independent communities. these settlements have the further advantage of being susceptible of defence in times of disturbance with the minimum risk of complication between the treaty powers and the chinese government. much of the importance shanghae has achieved of late years is due to the foreign settlement which, being neutral ground and defensible, has become a city of refuge for swarms of chinese who had been ousted from their homesteads by the rebels. the cosmopolite character of the shanghae settlement has entailed various inconveniences, which it is thought might be obviated in the new settlements by keeping the different foreign nationalities distinct. time has not yet pronounced on the success of this experiment. there will probably be a difficulty in putting it thoroughly in practice; no arbitrary regulations will be able to prevent nationalities from fusing into each other to such an extent as the higher laws of interest and policy may dictate. and it will be impossible in practice to subject a mixed community to the laws of any one power. in the meantime concessions are claimed from the chinese government by each of the treaty powers separately, and so far they have been granted. whether the isolation of the various concessions be permanent or not, it secures for them at the outset more unanimity in laying out streets and framing preliminary regulations for their good government hereafter. this is of great importance, and the experience of shanghae is most valuable in this respect. the narrowness of the streets in the settlement there--twenty-two feet--is a standing reproach on the earlier settlers who, with short-sighted cupidity, clung with tenacity to every inch of land at a time when land was cheap and abundant. this fatal error has been avoided in the recent settlements. the municipality of shanghae established under the auspices of sir rutherford (then mr.) alcock, at that time british consul, has on the whole proved such a success that the same system has been adopted in the new settlements. the legality of the institution has often been questioned, but the creation of some such authority was a necessity at the time, and it has worked so well for ten years that it has not only subsisted, but gathered strength and influence by the unanimous will of the community. several fine european houses were already built and inhabited on the tientsin settlement. the ground had been well raised, so as to keep the new town dry, and ensure it a commanding position. it is about two miles lower down the river than the native town, has a fine open country round it, and plenty of fresh air. it is several degrees cooler in the british settlement than in the chinese town, and altogether the very best site for the purpose has been selected. the merchants retain their offices in the chinese town, riding or sailing to and fro every day. this system will probably continue to be practised for some time longer, or perhaps altogether, for the convenience of the chinese dealers. a small minority of the foreign merchants would compel all to retain their business premises in tientsin, and nothing less than an almost entire unanimity among them would effect the transfer to the new town. as a dépôt of trade, tientsin labours under certain disadvantages; the shallow bar outside, and intricate navigation of the river, prevent any but small craft from trading there. larger vessels do sometimes, or rather did,--for i fancy the practice is discontinued,--repair to the outer anchorage. but the expense of lighterage, and the detention incurred in loading or discharging at such a distance from the port, are so great as to drive such competitors out of the field. the other drawback to tientsin is the severe winter, and the early closing of the river by ice. this generally happens before the end of november, and the ice does not break up before february or march. however, tientsin is the feeder of a large tract of country containing a large consuming population, and the trade is no doubt destined to increase. much disappointment has, indeed, been felt that the extraordinary start made, chiefly in the sale of foreign manufactures, in the first year of its existence as a port of foreign trade, has not been followed up. this may be explained, however, by the circumstance that in - manufactured goods were extremely depressed by over-supply in the south of china. these goods were introduced into tientsin, and sold direct to the chinese there, untaxed by the intermediate profits and charges they formerly had to bear when sold in shanghae, and thence forwarded by chinese merchants, in chinese junks, to tientsin and the north. prices in tientsin soon fell so low that the merchants were tempted into large investments during . the markets of the interior became overstocked, and, before the equilibrium was restored, the cotton famine began to be felt, and prices of goods (the tientsin trade is chiefly opium and cotton goods) rose so high as to deter purchasers, and in a material degree to reduce the consumption of foreign cottons. another circumstance also operated adversely to a maintenance of the lively trade that grew up in . there were no exports in tientsin suitable to any foreign market. the foreign trade was therefore limited to the sale of imports, which were paid for in specie. a heavy drain of bullion was the result, more than the resources of the country could bear for any length of time. this of itself was enough to check the further development of trade; for though the precious metals were merely transferred from one part of the country to another, no counter-balancing power then existed by which they could be circulated back to the districts whence they came. there is no good reason why produce suitable to foreign markets should not be found in tientsin. wool and tallow will no doubt be obtainable in considerable quantities in process of time, for the country is full of sheep and cattle, and tientsin is only six days' journey from the frontier of mongolia, where flocks and herds monopolise the soil. i must mention a circumstance connected with the tientsin trade, which is remarkable among an eminently commercial people like the chinese. at the opening of the trade, in the end of , the relative values of gold and silver varied fifteen per cent. between tientsin and shanghae. gold was purchased for silver in the north, and shipped to shanghae, at a large profit, and a good many months elapsed before an equilibrium was established. in and about tientsin, as almost everywhere else in china, the population is well affected towards foreigners. the british troops that garrisoned tientsin from till left behind them the very best impressions on the inhabitants. not that these troops were any better than any other well-disciplined troops would have been, but the chinese had been taught to regard foreigners as a kind of aquatic monsters, cruel and ferocious; so when the horrible picture resolved itself into human beings, civil and courteous in their disposition, honestly paying for all they wanted, of vast consumptive powers in the matter of beef and mutton, fruit and vegetables, and, on the whole, excellent customers, the chinese took kindly to the estimable invaders, and had cause to regret their departure. foreign merchants were held in high estimation from the first. the free hospitals for chinese, set on foot by the army surgeons, not only did a great deal of good in alleviating suffering, but prepared the way for mutual good feeling in the after intercourse between natives and foreigners. it has been questioned whether the chinese, as a race, are susceptible of gratitude. but, at any rate, the respectable classes are sufficiently charitable themselves to appreciate philanthropy in others; and, in the self-imposed and gratuitous labours of the surgeons for the benefit of the sick poor, they saw an example of pure benevolence, which could not but excite their admiration. the population of tientsin is supposed to be about , , residing chiefly in the suburbs, for trade is generally carried on without the walls, not only here, but in all chinese cities. there is an unusually large proportion of beggars about tientsin, and loathsome objects they are, as they whine about the streets, half clad, in tatters, starved, and often covered with sores. they never sleep but on the ground. at night, when the streets are quiet, the beggars may be discovered huddled together at every corner and on every door-step. begging is an institution in china, and to qualify for the craft, men have been said to burn out their own eyes, in order to excite compassion for their blindness. a chinese householder seldom allows a beggar to go away empty. charity is cheap; a handful of rice, one copper cash, value the fourth part of a farthing, suffices to induce the disgusting object to move on to the next shop. the beggars have seldom any cause to starve in china, but they do very often, and it is probable they bring diseases on themselves in their efforts to excite pity, which carry them off very rapidly. in winter, especially in the north, they seem to die off like mosquitoes, and no one takes any notice of them except to bury them--for the chinese don't like to leave dead bodies about the streets. in spring they reappear--not the identical beggars, certainly--but very similar ones, and the ranks of the profession are kept filled. the wealthier natives of tientsin, traders and shopkeepers, are fond of good living and gambling. they are robust people, and bear up well against the effects of late hours and gross dissipation. the close, filthy atmosphere in which they live and breathe does not seem to injure their health. epidemics do make great havoc among them occasionally; one year it is cholera, another year it is small-pox; but the general healthiness of the people does not seem to suffer. the climate is exceedingly dry. little rain or snow falls; but when it does rain, the whole heavens seem to fall at once, not in torrents, but in sheets of water. the peculiar sand-storms, so common in the north of china, have not as yet been satisfactorily investigated. they often come on after a sultry day. a yellow haze appears in the sky, darkening the sun; then columns of fine dust are seen spinning round in whirlwinds. at that stage every living thing seeks shelter, and those who are afield are lucky if they are not caught in the blinding storm before they reach their houses. but even a closely shut-up house affords but half protection, for the fine powdery dust insinuates itself through the crevices of doors and windows, and is palpably present in your soup and your bread for some time after. the most obvious source whence these sand-storms come, is the great sandy desert of mongolia, but such an hypothesis is hardly sufficient to account for all the phenomena which accompany the sand-storms. it has been supposed that they are due to some peculiar electrical condition of the atmosphere. the chinese are passionately addicted to gambling, and the endless variety of games of chance in common use among them does credit to their ingenuity and invention, for it is not likely that they have learned anything from their neighbours. the respectable merchant, who devotes the hours of daylight assiduously to his business, sparing no labour in adjusting the most trifling items of account, will win or lose thousands of dollars overnight with imperturbable complacency. every grade of society is imbued with the passion. i have amused myself watching the coolies in the streets of tientsin gambling for their dinner. the itinerant cooks carry with them, as part of the wonderful epitome of a culinary establishment with which they perambulate the streets, a cylinder of bamboo, containing a number of sticks on which are inscribed certain characters. these mystic symbols are shaken up in the tube, the candidate for hot dumpling draws one, and according to the writing found on it, so does he pay for his repast. so attractive is gambling in any form to the chinese, that a tientsin coolie will generally prefer to risk paying double for the remote chance of getting a meal for nothing. on one occasion i volunteered to act as proxy for a hungry coolie who was about to try his luck. the offer was accepted with eagerness, and i was fortunate enough to draw my constituent a dinner for nothing. i was at once put down as a professor of the black art, and literally besieged by a crowd of others, all begging me to do them a similar favour, which, of course, i prudently declined. had i indeed been successful a second time, the dispenser of the tempting morsels would certainly have protested against my interference as an invasion of his prerogative, which is to win, and not to lose. the chinese gamblers are, of course, frequently ruined by the practice. they become desperate after a run of ill luck; every consideration of duty and interest is sunk, and they play for stakes which might have startled even the russian nobles, who used to gamble for serfs. in the last crisis of all, a dose of opium settles all accounts pertaining to this world. in games of skill the chinese are no less accomplished. dominoes, draughts, chess, and such like, are to be seen in full swing at every tea-house, where the people repair to gossip and while away the evening. the little groups one sees in these places exhibit intense interest in their occupation; the victory is celebrated by the child-like exultation of the winner, and any pair of chinese draught-players may have sat for wilkie's celebrated picture. chapter ii. tientsin to peking. there are several modes of going from tientsin to peking. the most common is in a mule cart, which is not exactly a box, but a board laid on wheels with a blue cotton covering arched over it. the cart is not long enough to enable one to lie down full length, nor is it high enough to enable him to sit upright in the european fashion. it has no springs; the roads are generally as rough as negligence can leave them; it is utterly impossible to keep out the dust; and the covering gives but slight protection from the sun. a ride in a chinese cart is exquisite torture to a european. it is true that experience teaches those who are so unfortunate as to need it several "dodges" by which to mitigate their sufferings, such as filling the cart entirely with straw, and then squeezing into the middle of it. but then the traveller must have some means of securing the feet to prevent being pitched out bodily, and he must hold on to the frame-work of the side by both hands to break the shock of sudden jerks. with all that he will come off his journey feeling in every bone of his body as if he had been passed through a mangle. that the chinese do not suffer from such treatment i can only attribute to a deficiency in their nervous system. if they suffered in anything like the same degree that a european does, they would have invented a more comfortable conveyance before the christian era. but the only improvement in comfort i ever heard of is in the carts made for the great mandarins, which have the wheels placed far back, so that between the axle-tree and the saddle the shafts may have an infinitesimal amount of spring in them. the next mode of travelling is on horseback, which, if you happen to have your own saddle and bridle, is very pleasant, provided the weather is not too hot or too cold. there are plenty of inns on the road-side where you can rest and refresh yourself; but woe betide the luckless traveller who, like myself, nauseates the chinese _cuisine_, should he have neglected to provide himself with a few creature comforts to his own liking. the weather was excessively hot, and judging that there would be many calls on our stamina before our long journey was done, we prudently husbanded our strength at the outset. we therefore chose the slower but more luxurious (!) means of conveyance by boat up the peiho river to tungchow, a walled city twelve miles from peking. boat travelling in the north has not been brought to such a state of perfection as in the creek and canal country in chekiang and keangsoo. in the latter provinces it is practically the only means of travelling, and though slow, is most comfortable. in the north the boats are a smaller edition of those used for transporting merchandise, the only convenience they have being a moveable roof. in two such craft our party embarked on the night of th august, , and at p.m., by moonlight, we languidly shoved off from the filthy banks of the peiho river, the few friends who were kind enough to see us off, with a refinement of politeness worthy of a chinaman, refusing a parting glass, knowing that we had none to spare. our sails were of little assistance, so after threading our way through the fleet of boats that lay anyhow in the first two reaches, our stout crews landed with their towing line, by which means we slowly and painfully ascended the stream. tientsin, as i have said, is the filthiest of all filthy cities; and the essence of its filth is accumulated on the banks of the river, forming an excellent breakwater, which grows faster than the water can wash it away. the putrid mass is enough, one would think, to breed a plague, and yet the water used by the inhabitants is drawn from this river! it was pleasant, indeed, to escape from this pestilential atmosphere, and to inhale the cool fresh air of the country for an hour or two before turning in, as we reflected on the long and tedious journey we had before us, embracing the whole breadth of the continents of asia and europe. the voyage to tungchow was monotonous in the extreme. nothing of the country could be seen; for though the water was high enough at the time to have enabled us to look over the low flat banks, the standing crops effectually shut in our view. four days were occupied in travelling li. we had engaged double crews, in order that we might proceed night and day without stopping, but it was really hard work for them, and we did not like to press them too much. there is no regular towing path on the banks of the peiho, and at night the men floundered in the wet mud amongst reeds. a youngster of the crew gave us a great deal of trouble--always shirking his work and complaining of hunger. he was a wag, however, and kept both us and the crew in amusement. i have noticed in nearly all chinese boat-crews there is a character of this sort, whose business seems to be to work as little as possible himself, and keep up a running fire of wit to beguile the toil of the others. a good story-teller is much valued among them. we had also an old man, whose chief business was to boil rice and vegetables for the others, and to steer the boat. his kitchen duties were no sinecure, for the men did get through an incredible quantity of rice in the course of the day. rice is a poor thing to work on; it is a fuel quickly consumed, and requires constant renewal. it is the nature of chinese boatmen to be constantly asking for money. the custom is to pay about half the fare in advance before starting, and the other half when the journey is completed. but no sooner are you fairly under way, than a polite request is made for money to buy rice. it is in vain you remind them of the dollars you have just paid as a first instalment. that has gone to the owner of the boat, of course, but as for them, the boatmen, they have nothing to eat, and cannot go on. defeated in your arguments you nevertheless remain firm in your purpose; the morning, noon, and evening meals succeed each other in due course. every one is to be the last, and is followed by the most touching appeals to your benevolence--they will go down on their knees, they will whine and cry, they will beat frantically on their empty stomachs, and tell you "they are starving" in tones and gestures that ought properly to melt the heart of a stone. it is in vain that you deride their importunity; it is in vain that you reproach them with their improvidence. you sternly order them to their work, but are met by the unanswerable question, how can they work without food? you--if you have gone through the ordeal before--know well that you will have no trouble on this score on the second day out. has any one ever tried to arrive at the exact value of a chinese measure of distance? their li has no doubt been reduced to so many yards, feet, and inches, equal to about one-third of an english mile, on paper; but on the road it is the vaguest term possible. ask a countryman how far it is to chung-dsz, and he will answer after a great deal of prevarication ten li. walk about that distance and inquire again, and you are told it is fifteen li. this will puzzle you if you are a stranger, but go on another half mile, and you find you are at your destination. in the common acceptation of the word, i am convinced it is more a measure of time than distance, and li is an average day's journey. our tientsin boatmen put this very prominently when questioned, as they were nearly every hour of the day, as to how far we still were from tungchow, one of them answered, "if you travel quick it is about li, but if slow it is well on to !" [illustration: tung chow pagoda. (page .)] in the first part of our journey we met with no traffic on the river, but towards tungchow we passed large fleets of junks bound upwards and a few bound down. john bell says of this river, "i saw many vessels sailing down the stream towards the south-east. and i was informed there are nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine vessels constantly employed on this river; but why confined to such an odd number i could neither learn nor comprehend." i should say that during the years that have elapsed since that was written the fleet is more likely to have been shorn of a few odd thousands than increased by the odd unit. on the fourth day, as we were panting for breath, with the thermometer standing at ° fahr., and with anxious eyes contemplating our almost empty ice-box, the pagoda of tungchow was descried over the tall reeds on the river bank, and we soon were made fast in front of a temple called fang-wang-meaou. at this point the peiho dwindles away into a very small and shallow stream, and practically tungchow is the head of the navigation, the shipping port of peking, and the beginning of the land carriage to the north-west provinces of china. the fang-wang-meaou is much used by russians as a dépôt for their goods in transit from tientsin and shanghae to siberia. we found a considerable quantity of tea stored in the temple waiting for transport. in this temple, therefore, by the favour of the reverend personages who preside over it, we bestowed our _impedimenta_, and took up our quarters for the night in a wing of the building. the bhuddist priests are in the habit of transacting business for strangers, and we therefore entered into negotiation with them to provide us carriage either by mules or camels, from tungchow to chan-kia-kow, the frontier town between china and mongolia. we thought by this arrangement we could ride to peking, do what we wanted there in the way of getting passports, &c., and return to tungchow and take our departure thence. this proved a delusion, and lost us some valuable time. there is nothing remarkable about the city of tungchow. it is situated on a dead level. from a tower on the wall a view of the country is obtained, including the mountains north of peking. there is a tall pagoda in the city, but as it has no windows in it, it is useless as a look-out. i found here two ponies that i had sent from tientsin, in charge of a chinese "ma-foo" or groom, who agreed to accompany me as far as chan-kia-kow. my object was to be independent of the chinese carts at peking and on the road, and i looked forward to taking one, if not both, of my ponies a considerable distance into the desert of mongolia. i strongly recommend this plan to any one travelling in that quarter. on the th of august i rode to peking, the rest of the party following in carts. this would no doubt be a very pretty ride at another season of the year, but in the month of august the millet crops stand as high as twelve and fifteen feet, completely shutting in the road for nearly the whole distance. at eight li from tungchow we passed the village and handsome stone bridge of _pa-li-keaou_ or "eight-mile-bridge," which euphonious name gives a title to a distinguished french general. there are no "high" roads, but many bye-roads, and it is not difficult to lose one's way amongst the standing millet. many parts of the country are very prettily wooded, and there is a half-way house at a well-shaded part of the road, where you naturally dismount to rest yourself under a mat shed, and indulge yourself with hot tea, than which nothing is more refreshing on a hot day, provided the decoction be not too strong, and is unadulterated by the civilised addition of sugar or milk. you may eat fruit here also if you are not afraid of the consequences (but take care that it is ripe), and some naked urchins will cut fresh grass for your beasts. this little place, like many others of its kind, is a "howf" for many loafers, who seek the cool shade, and sit sipping their boiling tea, and languidly fanning themselves while they listen abstractedly to the conversation of the wayfarers. as we near peking we come to some slight undulations, and notice some very pretty places with clumps of old trees about them. these are principally graves of great men, and it is remarkable to observe how much attention is paid by the chinese to the abodes of their dead. wealthy people will pass their lives in a dismal hovel, something between a pig-stye and a rabbit-warren, into which the light of day can scarcely penetrate; the floors of earth or brick-paved, or if the party is luxurious, he may have a floor of wood, encrusted with the dirt of a generation. but these same people look forward to being buried under a pretty grove of trees, in a nicely kept enclosure, with carefully cultivated shrubs and flowers growing round. some of the loveliest spots i have seen in china are tombs, the finest i remember being at the foot of the hill behind the city of chung-zu, near foo-shan, on the yang-tsze-kiang. these tombs, adorned with so much taste and care, were in strange contrast with the general rottenness around. but armies have since been there, and it is probable that the angel of destruction has swept it all away. i am unable to say from what feeling springs this tender regard for tombs among the chinese. it may be that they consider the length of time they have to lie in the last resting-place, reasonably demands that more care be bestowed on it than on the earthly tenement of which they have so short a lease. or it may arise simply out of that strong principle of filial piety so deeply engraven in the chinese mind, and which leads them to make great sacrifices when required to do honour to the names of their ancestors. from whatever motive it comes, however, this filial piety, which even death does not destroy, is an admirable trait in the chinese character; and i have even heard divines point to the chinese nation--the most long-lived community the world has seen--as an illustration of the promise attached to the keeping of the fifth commandment. the greatest consolation a chinaman can have in the "hour of death" is that he will be buried in a coffin of his own selection, and that he has children or grandchildren to take care of his bones. it is to this end that parents betroth their children when young, and hasten the marriages as soon as the parties are marriageable. to this end also i believe polygamy is allowed by law, or at all events not interdicted. if a chinaman could have the promise made to him, "thou shalt never want a man to stand before me," he would live at ease for the rest of his days. there are no cemeteries in china, that i know of, except where strangers congregate--when they of a family, a district, or even a province, combine to buy a piece of ground to bury their dead in. in hilly countries pretty sites are always selected for tombs. in the thickly settled parts of the country every family buries its own dead in its own bit of ground. thus, when they sell land for building purposes, negotiations have to be entered into for removing the coffins of many forgotten generations. the bones are carefully gathered up and put into earthenware jars, and labelled. this operation is profanely called "potting ancestors." these jars are then buried somewhere else--of course with great economy of space. a house built on the site of an old grave that is suspected of having been only partially emptied, would remain tenantless for ever, and if the ghosts of the departed did not destroy the house, the owner would be compelled to do so. but i am getting away from the peking road. amongst the tombs of great families, outside the walls of the city, are many old marble colossal sculptures of men and animals. the same figures, in limestone, are common in other parts of the country. these sculptures are all more or less dilapidated; some of the figures are still erect; many have fallen down and got broken; and many have been ploughed in. there is nothing remarkable about the workmanship of these, although the colossal size of some of them is striking. they are interesting as memorials of departed greatness, and record their silent protest against the corruption, decay, and degeneracy that has brought the chinese empire so low. water communicating with the peiho river goes up to the walls of peking, but is not navigable. it forms a quiet lagoon, the delight of great flocks of the most beautiful ducks and geese. the streams that run through the city can also be connected with the water outside through the arches in the wall; and i am told the intention of those truly great men, who conceived and executed the grand canal, was to bring the water through the city and into the imperial quarters by navigable canals, so that the grain-junks from keangsoo, which were to supply the capital with food, might be brought in to the gate of the emperor's palace. it is not to be wondered at that this scheme should have broken down, considering the engineering difficulties attending it. chapter iii. peking. nothing of the city of peking is visible until you are close under the walls, and then the effect is really imposing. the walls are high, massive, and in good repair. the double gates, with their lofty and large three-storied towers over them, and the general solid appearance, inspire one with some of the admiration which poor old marco polo used to evince when speaking of the glories of kambalic, or the city of the grand khan. once inside the walls you instinctively exclaim, what a hot, dusty place this is! and you call to mind that that is exactly what everybody told you long before its threshold was polluted by barbarian footsteps. peking is celebrated for its carts, its heat, and its dust. if it rained much the streets would be a sea of mud. we pursue our way along the sandy tracks between the city wall and the buildings of the town for a mile or two, then plunge into the labyrinth of streets, crowded, dirty and odoriferous. we are being conducted to an inn which is to be better than any that foreigners have been admitted to before. [illustration: walls of peking from a photograph. (page .)] in our way we crossed the main street which leads from the imperial city straight to the temples of heaven and earth. this street is very wide, and has been very fine, but now more than half its width is occupied by fruit, toy, and fish stalls. the centre of the street has been cut up by cart-wheels for many centuries, and is full of holes and quagmires, so that the practicable portion of this wide thoroughfare is narrowed down to nothing. so it is with all the wide streets of peking. they are never made. filth accumulates incredibly fast; and the wider the street the dirtier it is, because it can hold the more. at last we arrived at this paragon of inns, and passing through the courtyard, where the horses and mules of travellers were tied up, we threaded our way as far into the interior of the establishment as we could get, and then called the landlord. he pretended to make a great to-do about receiving us, and strongly urged that we would find much better accommodation at the west-end. this was not to be thought of, and we soon installed ourselves in a room--but such a room! and such an inn! and such attendance! and such filth everywhere! i have slept in a good many chinese inns of all sorts, but the meanest road-side hostelry i have ever seen is a degree better than this swell inn in this fashionable city of kanbalu. our room was at the far end of the labyrinthine passages, and was evidently constructed to exclude light and air. it was almost devoid of furniture. we certainly could make shift for sleeping accommodation, for travellers can manage with wonderfully little in that way; but we were miserably off for chairs, the only thing we had to sit upon being small wooden stools on four legs, the seat being about five inches wide. there was no getting anything to eat in this establishment, so we fell in with the peking custom of dining at a restaurant, and we found a very good one on the opposite side of the street. this was a nice cheerful place, with good airy rooms, and comfortable cushioned seats--much frequented by the pekingese. here we always got a good dinner, and met good society. we could not stomach the pure native messes, but as they had always abundance of good mutton and fish (kept alive on the premises till wanted), also rice, clean and white, with a little preliminary instruction in our manner of living, the _cuisinière_ hit off our taste to a nicety. we had our own knives and forks to eat with, and our own good liquor to season the repast, so in peking we may be said to have lived well. we used to meet a strange mixture of people in this restaurant--natives of canton, yunnan, szechune, shansi--in short, of every part of china; men whose lawful occasions brought them to the capital. most of them were merchants, and i presume the students who flock to peking in such number form little cliques of their own. these fellows lead a very jovial life. about seven o'clock, or a little later, they assemble in parties already made up, and dinner is laid, each party having a separate room. they eat heartily, and seem thoroughly to enjoy each other's society. they don't hurry over their dinner, and they have such an infinity of small dishes, that their repast spreads itself over several hours. they are very quiet at the first onset, but as they warm up with their wine, they get very noisy, and make the whole place ring with the sounds of merriment. they drink their wine hot, out of small porcelain cups, and instead of a decanter, a tea-kettle is put on the table. we used to amuse ourselves by going from one party to another, and joining for a few minutes in their conviviality. they were always pleased to see us, and made us sit down and drink with them. we reciprocated their hospitality, and when we had administered a glass of wine to one of them, he would sip it with an air of grave meditation, then slap his paunch vigorously, and, holding up his right thumb, would exclaim with emphasis "haou!" "super-excellent." they have a methodical manner of drinking, which is no less entertaining to spectators, than agreeable to themselves. the libations are regulated by a game of forfeits, engaged in by two at a time. the challenger holds out one or more fingers, accompanying the action by certain set phrases. the other has to reply promptly to the word and the pantomime, the penalty for a mistake being to drink a cup of wine. they begin this process quietly and soberly, but when an obstinate antagonist is found, who replies to the challenge five or six times running without a break-down, the contest becomes exciting. they gradually rise from their seats, and approach each other across the table, their faces grow red, as their shouting gets louder, and the repartee more spirited, until they reach a climax of passion which flesh and blood could not long sustain, and then explode like a bomb-shell amid tremendous bursts of unearthly yells from the full company. the loser sips his liquor with resignation; and the victor generally joins him, by way of showing himself a generous adversary. i have heard of drinking "by rule of thumb," in our own country, but this has probably nowhere been reduced to a science so much as in china. about nine or ten, a long string of carts (the cabs of peking), would be collected at the door, the parties would begin to break up, and go their several ways to the theatres, or other evening amusements. they generally make a night of it, and that class of the chinese are everywhere late in their habits. i never met a more robust-looking, or more jovial, hearty set of men, than these, our boon companions of peking. on arriving in peking, i lost no time in calling on sir f. bruce, our minister there, to get passports put in train. i was fortunate enough to meet sir frederick, as he had just come in for a day from his retreat in the hills. he has occupied a temple situated on the hills, some twenty miles from peking, which forms an admirable summer residence, free from the putrid smells of the city, and with a temperature many degrees cooler,--no mean advantage when the thermometer stands about °. the building set apart for the english legation in peking is, from an eastern point of view, magnificent. it was a "foo," or ducal palace, has large space for garden ground round the principal building, while the smaller buildings would easily accommodate a full regiment of soldiers. we found that it would take several days to get our papers in order; for not only was my passport to be got, but my companion had to get his through the french legation. there was nothing for it but to make ourselves easy, having done all that we could do to accelerate our business. now, at another season of the year, i could have spent a week in peking with pleasure, but in the month of august one cannot go out with any degree of comfort or safety, except in the morning or evening, and then the streets are full either of blinding dust, or black mire, in which your horse is always splashing up to his hocks. however, we tried to make the best of it, and i was fortunate enough to meet my old friend, dr. lockhart, who had lived long enough in peking to know the ropes, and who was good-natured enough to show me round the principal objects of interest in the city. another difficulty besets the sight-seer in peking, and that is the "magnificent distances" between the various places one wants to see. however, by sallying forth betimes, we did manage to visit a few of the many interesting objects in this old city; for there is nothing really worthy of note in china, except what bears the stamp of antiquity. the confucian temple was the first object of our curiosity. here the great sage is worshipped by the emperor once a year, without the medium of paintings or images. in the central shrine there is merely a small piece of wood, a few inches long, standing upright, with a few characters inscribed on it, the name of the sage, i believe. on the sides are a number of still smaller wooden labels, representing the disciples and commentators who have elucidated the writings of confucius. the temple contains a number of stone tablets, on which are engraved the record of honours conferred on literary men, and to obtain a place here is the acme of the ambition of chinese scholars. in the courtyard there are a number of pine trees, said to have been planted during the reign of the mongol dynasty, more than years ago. these trees have been stunted in their growth, however, from want of room, and considering their age, their size is disappointing. the courtyard is adorned by a variety of stone sculptures, the gifts of successive emperors and dynasties. the present dynasty has been rather jealous of its predecessors in this respect, especially of the ming, and has replaced many fine relics of their time by new ones of its own. there are, however, several mongol tablets to the fore in the confucian temple. a connoisseur can at once, from the style, fix the date of any of these works of art, and when in doubt, the inscriptions are for the most part sufficiently legible to tell their own tale. in another part of the building there are some very curious old stones, drum-shaped, dating from years b.c. these have been carefully preserved, but the iron tooth of time has obliterated most of the writing on them. the curious old characters are still to some extent legible, however. the building itself is, from a chinese point of view, a noble one, and singularly enough, it is kept in perfect order, in strange contrast to chinese temples and public buildings generally. it has a magnificent ceiling, very high, and the top of the interior walls are ornamented by wooden boards, richly painted, bearing the names of the successive emperors in raised gilt characters. on the accession of an emperor he at once adds his name to the long list. [illustration: pavilion of the summer palace of yuen-min-yuen. (page .)] the hall erected by the learned emperor kienloong, although modern (he reigned from to ), is a magnificent pavilion, not very large, but beautifully finished, and in perfect good taste. the pavilion is roofed with the imperial yellow tiles. round it is a promenade paved with white marble, with balustrades of the same. at a little distance from the pavilion stands a triumphal arch, massive and elegant. the pavilion is intended to be viewed through the arch, from a stand-point a few yards behind it, so that the arch forms a frame for the main building. the effect produced is peculiar and striking, and does infinite credit to the taste of old kienloong, who, by the bye, seems to have done everything that has been done in modern times to beautify the capital. the pavilion stands in the middle of a large open square, on two sides of which, under a shed, stand double rows of stone tablets, six or seven feet high. on these tablets are engraved, in clear and distinct characters, the whole of the chinese classics, in such a manner that they can be printed from. many copies have actually been struck off from these tablets, and are held in very high esteem. the great lamasery is outside the city, but the lama temple or monastery inside is also well worthy of notice, whether from the vast quantity of bricks and mortar that go to make the range of buildings, the extent of the grounds attached to it, including a fine wooded park, or from the internal economy of the establishment itself. two thousand mongol lamas are maintained here by the bounty of the emperor.[ ] the other lamaseries are in the same manner liberally endowed by the government. the chinese emperors feel that they have but a slight hold on their mongol subjects, scattered as they are over a vast desert, where no chinese troops could penetrate, even were the chinese a match for the mongols in a military point of view, which they never were. the independence of the mongols would be rather a gain than a loss to china in its immediate results, but it would establish a warlike race on their borders, which has been the terror of china from the earliest times. no doubt, ages of peace have done much to subdue the warlike spirit of the mongols, but they retain their ancient habits and lead a life of privation and hardship from the cradle to the grave. they are susceptible of the greatest enthusiasm, and at a word from their chiefs they would be ready to follow them to death or glory. a few years of fighting would render the mongol hordes as formidable to a non-military nation like the chinese, as they were in the days of the terrible genghis khan. in the present enfeebled condition of china an irruption of mongols would be irresistible, and would sweep everything before it like a flood. the chinese government are quite alive to such a possible contingency, and hence the care they take to conciliate the mongols. their forty-eight kings (of whom san-go-lin-sin is one), nominally tributary to china, are really pensioned by the emperor, and every inducement is held out to the mongol lamas to settle in the monasteries in peking. here they live in comfort and luxury unknown in their deserts. their friends have every facility for visiting them, and carrying back to the "land of grass" their reports of the goodness of the chinese emperor. the lamas are taken from all parts of mongolia--we conversed with several from dolonor and kuren (urga), and many others from the north and south, the names of whose districts were not included in my geographical vocabulary. these large mongol communities, under the eye and hand of the emperor, answer the double purpose of conciliators on the one hand, and of hostages for the loyalty of distant tribes on the other. the mongols are as little a match for the chinese in craft, as they are superior to them in martial energy. it is supposed that the chinese government have a deep design in supporting and encouraging lamaism, an institution which makes nearly one-third of the mongol race celibats--for there are female as well as male lamas--the object being to keep down the population of the tribes. [ ] the first emperor of the manchu line originated the scheme, but it has been greatly extended by his successors. however, the simple-minded mongols lead a comfortable, easy life in peking, free from care, and with no occupation except chanting their prayers. i was fortunate enough to witness one of their religious services in the great temple. the building is raised some ten feet from the ground, a fine flight of steps running round the four sides of it. the roof is very high, and the sides are open all round. the lamas muster leisurely out of their cells, dressed in dirty red cotton garments, and armed with an enormous yellow cap, with something of a helmet shape, and crested with a long fringe made, i think, of camel's hair. they carry the cap for the most part under their arm, seldom wearing it on the head. about of them assembled in the temple, and sung a chant which lasted about half an hour. the effect was very striking and solemn, for the music was good, and one or two of the lamas had the finest bass voices i ever heard. the apparent earnestness with which the whole congregation joined in the service, and the deep, devotional character of the music, riveted our attention with an irresistible power. so different was it from the ludicrous mockery of sacred things perpetrated by the chinese bhuddists, during whose most solemn services i have seen a dirty fellow push his way through the devotees and coolly light his pipe at the candles burning on the altar. the analogies between the bhuddist and roman catholic forms of worship have been so hackneyed by writers that it may seem impertinent in me to allude to them. but i cannot help drawing attention to the manner in which m. huc endeavours to explain them. the analogies are most complete in the yellow cap lama sect, the origin of which is described at length by huc. in the thirteenth century, in the country of amdo, bordering on thibet, a child miraculously conceived was born with a white beard, and from his birth gave utterance to profound sayings concerning the destiny of man. his name was tsong-kamba. this prodigy of a child became an ascetic, devoting himself to meditation and prayer. a holy stranger from the west visited him, and amazed him by his sanctity and learning. the stranger was remarkable for his long nose. after instructing tsong-kamba for a few years in the mysteries of religion the holy man died; but tsong-kamba became a great reformer, and originated the new sect of the yellow cap lamas. huc clutches at this tradition, and thinks he sees in the mysterious visitor of tsong-kamba a christian missionary, many of whom had penetrated about that period into tartary. the premature death of the master left incomplete the instruction of the disciple, who, failing to attain christianity, stopped short as a reformer of bhuddism. after the service we had some talk with the lamas, who were pleased to see us, and treated us with every civility. they all speak, and many of them write, chinese; and in that language we communicated with them. the ethnical difference between two races supposed to be of the same origin could not be more apparent than in the case of these mongols and the chinese by whom they were surrounded. the mongols have all an unintellectual cast of countenance, low narrow foreheads, and a simple and open expression. their features are not very different from the chinese. they have the high cheek-bones, small eyes, and some other characteristics of their neighbours; but their noses are on the whole not so short and flat, nor their faces so rounded. it is not so easy to tell in what the difference between them and the chinese consists, but the distinction is so marked that i hardly believe it possible for any one to mistake a mongol for a chinese. the mongols have unsuspecting honesty written on their faces. the chinese, from north to south, bear the stamp of craft and cunning, and are much superior in intellect to the mongols. it is only necessary to remark the physiognomies of the two races to understand how the chinese outwit the mongols in their dealings with them, and how the chinese name has in consequence become a bye-word among the mongols for everything that is detestable. it should not be forgotten of course that it is probably the worst class of chinese with whom the mongols come in contact. they are mostly adventurers who seek their fortunes among the tartars, for the hard life they are compelled to live in these outlying countries is not at all suitable to the chinese taste. the better sort of merchants are therefore not likely to wander so far; and those that do go are in the first instance below the average moral standard of the chinese, and, when liberated from the restraint of public opinion in their own country, they are likely to deteriorate still more. it would also appear to be true that demoralisation naturally grows out of the intercourse between two races, one of whom is in a marked degree inferior to the other in intellectual capacity. in commercial dealings the chinese find it so easy to overreach the simple mongols, and the temptation to do so is so strong, that the habit is engendered, which soon becomes part of the character of the chinese in tartary. the mongols, on their part, learn to form a low estimate of the honour of human nature. they know they are victimised by the chinese, but they are powerless to escape from it; hence they, by a very natural process, acquire a settled hatred to the whole race. [illustration: thibetian monument in lama temple. peking. (page .)] but we have not yet seen the great gilt image of bhudda, which stands in a separate building erected for the purpose. we failed in getting in on the first visit, but afterwards succeeded. the image is seventy-two feet high, well formed, and symmetrically proportioned. by a series of narrow and steep staircases we ascend several stories, at each getting a view of a part of the image. at the top of all we get out on a balcony, from which a good view of the city and environs is obtained. the grand lama of this monastery is a chaberon or living bhudda, of whom there are several in mongolia; and as such he is a sacred person, and a man of great authority among mongols, whether lamas or laymen. we had business to transact with this incarnation of bhudda, but, on inquiring for him, we learned that he had left on some holy mission to the great lamasery at dolonor, a mongol town a few days' journey north-west of peking. we had a letter from the head priest of the fang-wang temple at tungchow, who, though not belonging to the lama sect, which so far as i am aware consists exclusively of tartars, was nevertheless on easy terms with the grand lama. the purport of the letter was to recommend us to the attentions of the grand lama, and to request him to give us another letter to the lamas of a monastery in mongolia, a short distance beyond the great wall at chan-kia-kow, to enlist their services in procuring camels for our journey across the desert of gobi. we anticipated some difficulty about this, and wished to have as many strings to our bow as possible. the letter was written in mongol, and put in an envelope addressed in manchu, for the priest at tung-chow was a learned man. no one in the monastic brotherhood could be found who could read the manchu address, and they had great difficulty in finding one who could master the mongol characters in which the letter itself was written. we were surprised that they should not be able to read their own language, and on inquiry found that lamas are not taught to read mongol as a necessary branch of study. they all learn the lama writing, which they call "tangut," but which must be thibetian, as all their books and prayers are written in that character, and those lamas who live in peking generally learn to read a little chinese for their own convenience. while the letter was being deciphered we were introduced to the lay brother of the monastery, the confidant of the grand lama, and factotum in all secular affairs. a fine, hard-headed, swarthy complexioned, rough-and-ready burly fellow he was, and he received us with his rude native hospitality, showing us into the room, and making us sit on the very _kang_ used by the absent bhudda. being naturally slow of comprehension, and his secretary being equally slow and uncertain in deciphering the missive, the old fellow had many questions and cross-questions to ask, with many repetitions, which all being carried on in a very loud tone of voice, as if he had been bawling to a man on the main-top, began to get rather tiresome. having satisfied himself about the contents of the letter, he entered into conversation with noetzli, who, having been in mongolia before, and in the very monastery of bain-tolochoi to which we sought to be accredited, very adroitly led the conversation to that subject, and soon showed our mongol friend that he knew all about the locality and the personal appearance of the head lama there, whose chief characteristic seemed to be that he was inordinately fat. no sooner had our friend convinced himself that noetzli had actually been the guest of the fat lama, than he took us yet closer into his confidence, ordered the letter to be written, and at the same time despatched a boy into the street with some money in his hand. when the letter was finished, and we rose to leave, the old fellow, on hospitable thoughts intent, protested, seized our hats, and by main force pushed us back to the seat of the grand lama. to keep us in play he put fruit before us, but we did not know what it was all about until our breakfast was brought in in a large basin. it consisted of about twenty pounds of plain boiled mutton, without bread, rice, potatoes, or vegetables of any kind. all we had to eat with it was a solution of salt, soy, vinegar, and sugar. eat we must, there was no help for it, and we honestly set ourselves to do as full justice to the unsavoury meal as we were capable of, although we had a good breakfast waiting us at home, that is, at our restaurant, our host all the while standing over us like a taskmaster to keep us up to our work. when no entreaties would make us eat more, with looks and expressions of pitying regret, our uncouth friend showed us how mongols eat mutton by taking out a good-sized piece with his fingers, and dropping it down his throat. then turning to the youngsters who crowded the room he pitched lumps of mutton to each of them, who, in like manner, gobbled it like hungry eagles. our reception at the lama temple gave us a fair idea of mongol hospitality and habits, and impressed us favourably with the former. a long ride through the dirty streets of peking, in a hot sun, was the least agreeable part of our morning's work. the old observatory on the wall is interesting as a monument of the early astronomical tastes of the chinese emperors, and of the ingenuity of the jesuits. it was first erected by the ming before the jesuits came to china, or, at all events, before they began to be influential, and afterwards greatly enlarged and improved under the auspices of the jesuits. there is even an old instrument cast out and lying dishonoured in the grass--an orrery, if i rightly remember, dating from the mongol dynasty, years old. it is probable that the chinese or mongols were then in advance of european nations in their knowledge of celestial phenomena. the great celestial globe made under the direction of verbiest, is a superb casting in bronze, and although the instrument sent from paris is the finest in the observatory, father verbiest's celestial globe was the most interesting to me as a specimen of what a clever man can do under almost insuperable difficulties. since the fall of the jesuits little attention seems to have been paid to, or use made of, the observatory, and the teaching of those talented men is well nigh lost. the temple of heaven, or, as some people call it, the altar of heaven, is situated near the south wall of the city. we had several miles to go to it from our residence, in a direct line south, along the main street from the centre gate between the tartar and chinese cities. the street is wide and straight, but very dirty, and blocked up with trumpery stalls of all sorts, and kept alive by the incessant shouts of boys and old women. "apples! fine apples, to be sold cheap,--those who have no money can't have any," reminded us of the pathetic story of "simple simon." jugglers also disported themselves in the street and attracted good audiences to witness the swallowing and disgorging of huge stones, feats of strength, and other miracles. the poor juggler does not seem to take much by his motions, however, for, after swallowing an intolerable quantity of stone, and throwing up large bricks, and allowing them to break themselves on his head, thereby creating baldness on the crown, and otherwise amusing a distinguished circle of spectators for twenty minutes, he mildly solicits "cash," and has a wretched pittance thrown into the ring, much as one would throw a bone to a dog. i could not help wishing him some more useful outlet for his talents. another man would stand with a white painted board in his hand, slightly covered with ink in a half-liquid state, and, while conversing with the crowd, he would, by means of his thumb and fingers, throw off such excellent representations of fishes, birds, &c., with every fin, scale, and feather done to the life, as one never sees in the most highly finished chinese paintings. the talent displayed by these peripatetic artists proves conclusively that the chinese do possess the skill to draw after nature. then why don't they do it? a question more easily asked than answered. but we are supposed to be on the road to the temple of heaven. after walking two miles or so down this great street, we suddenly come to a break in the houses. there is no more street, but a large open space before us, lying very low, the road being continued on a raised causeway, on the same level as the street we have left. this space was originally a parade-ground. it is now a mud-puddle, cut up in all directions by innumerable cart-ruts, and most unsightly to behold. but the temple of heaven itself is now in sight, the outer wall stretching from a point abreast of us on the left to the south gate of the city, which is dimly visible in the distance over the miscalled parade-ground. the great centre pavilion, with its blue roof and large gilt top, resplendent in the afternoon sun, shoots up into the air, the most conspicuous object to be seen in all peking. the outer wall alluded to encloses a square mile of ground. opposite to the temple of heaven, and on our right, is the temple or altar of the earth, where the emperors of china repair according to traditional custom on the first day of spring to inaugurate the happy season by ploughing the first furrow. the little boy who now wields the sceptres of the khans must be too young to hold a plough, and i suppose he does it by commission, if indeed he is not too degenerate to do it at all. entering the outer gate of the temple of heaven, we are ushered into a large park, beautifully laid out with avenues of trees, and with regular well-paved walks. the whole place is terribly overgrown with long grass, and the neatly paved walks are all but obliterated by the same. as we proceed we come to a number of rather fine buildings for the accommodation of the priests. we saw none of these gentry, however, and the outer gate is kept by a dirty coolie, who takes a fee for opening it. the great pavilion stands on the top of a high causeway, the best part of a mile long, with flights of steps leading up to it at various parts. the causeway is beautifully paved with square stones, so regular and well fitted that the joinings can be traced in straight parallel lines along the whole length, except where the line of sight is intercepted by rank grass shooting up through them. the altar is in the great pavilion, which is a circular building of three storys, each story having wide eaves projecting over it, all covered with bright blue enamelled tiles. the roof of the building is of the same material, and is rather a sharply-pitched cone surmounted by a large round gilt ball. the whole effect is bright and beautiful. the pavilion is ascended from the causeway by flights of white marble steps, and a promenade of the same material runs all round it. on the causeway, and at some distance from the altar, are large massive arches with gates in them, and beyond the arches, at a great distance, there is another pavilion of similar construction to the principal one, but much smaller, being only one story high, where the emperor comes once a-year to worship the true god, or, as some call it, the dragon. be that as it may, however, this is doubtless the purest form of worship known to the chinese. when the emperor takes his place in the small pavilion the gates of the arches are thrown open, and through them he can see afar off the altar of heaven, or the dragon throne, as you may please to call it. sacrifices are made on those occasions; a large house or temple is set apart for the slaughter of the animals, and another circular tower of green bricks stands near it, where the remains of the sacrifices are buried. the whole plan of this splendid monument is nobly conceived, and would do credit to the most advanced nation in the world. unhappily, it seems now to be utterly uncared for. the pavements on which so much care, labour, and money have been expended, are being rapidly covered up with grass. the avenues are like a wilderness, and weeds are even taking root in the beautiful blue-tiled roofs, which, if not soon ruined by it, will at all events be twisted out of their symmetrical proportions. it is melancholy to see that what men of large and enlightened ideas have been at such pains to build, the present degenerate race do not consider it worth while to hire half-a-dozen coolies to keep in order. no further proof is necessary of the state of imbecility into which the chinese rulers have fallen than this, that in their own city they should allow such a monument of the active energy of their ancestors to go to wreck and ruin for want of a little looking after. i do not see how good government can be looked for in the distant provinces when the body politic is so rotten at the core. [illustration: great temple of heaven. peking. p. justyne. del j. cooper, s^c. from a photograph by beato. (page .)] my opportunities did not allow of my seeing more of the great sights of peking, but we have not yet done the theatres. it was, of course, necessary to patronise some of these establishments, and they afford great facilities for admitting people whose time is not all their own. ours certainly was our own, but we had let it out for other purposes, and could only steal an hour now and then to give up to this enjoyment. the theatres are open all day long, and all night, too, for anything i know. the acting goes on incessantly--one piece following another without interruption. the favourite pieces with the actors, and by a natural inference with the audience, are old historical heroic pieces, which are performed in a wretched falsetto sing-song voice, and accompanied by the most die-away pantomimic gestures, even in the chief male characters, painfully monotonous to european ears and eyes. they are heavy and slow, but afford great scope for the display of _outré_ costumes, overlaid with fiery dragons and hideous forms, which delight the eye of the chinese. the theatres at peking are certainly superior, both in the get-up and acting, to anything else of the kind i have seen in china, and some comic pieces we saw were so admirably acted that we, knowing scarcely a word, could follow the story throughout. the houses were always crowded, and the audience seemed to take more interest in the performance than is usual in the south of china, no doubt owing to the language used being the peking dialect, which is but indifferently understood by provincial audiences. on our entrance to a theatre we were always civilly greeted by the officers, and shown up to the most eligible places in the galleries, where we met people from all parts of the country, not excepting swell cantonese, all dressed in spotless white muslin, as light and airy as if made from the gossamer's web. we were at once beset by half-naked peripatetic vendors of fruits, cakes, and comfits, and even cups of hot tea. the tea was very refreshing in such a hot place, but our neighbours insisted on giving us little dumplings and other chinese delicacies, whose component parts we could not even guess. it was useless refusing--that was regarded as mock-modesty. we could only take a quiet opportunity of depositing the suspicious viands in our pockets, and give them to the first dirty urchin we met in the street. the chinese themselves go on crunching ground nuts, melon-seeds, and rubbish of that sort, the whole time. women do not act in china except under very exceptional circumstances. the female part is acted by men, who, thanks to their naturally effeminate appearance, make up very well as women, and the squeaky voice which they practise helps them out. actors are by no means held in high repute in china, and they are in general very ill paid. one of the best actors, who was also highly esteemed as a singer, that is a squeaker, lodged at our hotel, and he informed us that he earned on an average about half a dollar a day. our lodging being in the chinese city, was far removed from the european residents, who all live in the tartar quarter, and the gate between the two is closed at sunset. we therefore saw less of our respective countrymen than we might otherwise have done. the foreign community in peking is but small, and foreign trade being interdicted in the capital, is not likely to be very much increased. there are the russian, english, french, american, and i suppose now the prussian legations, all well quartered in commodious official buildings. the russian is the smallest, because the oldest. at the time of its establishment it was a great thing to have a place at all, without quarrelling about the size of it. the head of the foreign custom-house lives in peking, and there are a few student interpreters attached to him, who are in training for the custom-house service. two church missionaries also reside in peking, and last, not least, dr. lockhart, who has established a medical mission under the auspices of the london missionary society, on the plan of the one he for many years successfully conducted in shanghae. whatever may have been the past success of medical missions as an indirect means of introducing christianity into china, there can hardly be a doubt that they are of all methods the best calculated to attain the objects for which they have been organised. the chinese are pre-eminently irreligious, i mean with reference to their own nominal creed--bhuddism. they are too keenly intent on minding their worldly affairs to have any thought to spare for higher considerations. they are entirely free from the fanaticism which animates other pagan races. their temples and priesthood are universally despised and neglected. the only semblance of religious observances practised by the bulk of the people, is a very low kind of superstition, and that sits lightly on them as a rule wherever dollars stand in the way. it is not unfair to say that they are devoid of the religious faculty, and are "sunk in material interests." hence, the didactic inculcation of strange doctrines is foolishness to them who are indifferent to any doctrine whatever. of course i only speak from a secular point of view, without forgetting that the most impossible things are easy to the omnipotent; and he would be a bold man who would venture to circumscribe the possible results that the future may develop from the dissemination of the bible among a reading, and on the whole not an unthinking people. but the medical missionary presents christianity in its most attractive phase, that is, associated with a noble philanthropy, after the example of the founder of our religion, who always accompanied his teaching with healing the sick. and there is perhaps no form of mere philanthropy so powerful to exact gratitude from the most unlikely objects, as that of alleviating pain. the chinese are probably more open to this mode of reaching their hearts than to any other. in my rambles in out-of-the-way places in china, i have frequently been appealed to for medical aid by poor people who had heard of the repute of foreign doctors, both for skill and benevolence. and although the chinese character is the most hopeless one to expect gratitude from, still i affirm that if anything can touch them with the sense of an obligation, it is the ministering to their fleshly infirmities; and in the case of medical missions, they cannot escape the connection between them and the religion that prompts them. but i fear i am getting into too deep waters. no difficulty was experienced in getting our passports, although it was intimated to sir f. bruce that the passport for mongolia was not exactly a thing which could be demanded under the treaty, and therefore that the issue of such a document might at any time be refused by the chinese authorities without infringing any of the treaty stipulations, the argument being, that mongolia, though tributary to china, is not a part of the chinese empire, in the treaty interpretation of the word. this is fudge, of course, but as long as they grant the passports, all right. when they refuse, it will be time to argue about it. they are no doubt a little jealous about foreigners poking about in mongolia: their own hold on it is so uncertain, and the encroachments of the russians so gigantic of late years in other quarters, that is, in manchuria, that the chinese government, who now, if never before, feels its own decrepitude, does not know which way to turn for security against aggression. as usual with them, they, in their blindness to their own best interests, do just the wrong thing. two schemes for telegraphic communication from europe through mongolia have been proposed to them, both from english sources: both have been rejected, from the general and ignorant dread they have of foreigners establishing stations in mongolia. now were their eyes opened they must see that it is not from england or france they have anything to fear of aggression in that part of their dominions; but from russia alone. but were english or french subjects to settle, for any purpose whatever, in the mongolian steppes, under authority from the chinese government, no better guarantee could be secured against russian aggression. as it now stands, the russians are left alone in the field. when they really want to have telegraphic stations in mongolia, they will not be refused, and before many years are over a large slice of mongolia will be russian. the russians have certain winning ways of their own, altogether foreign to our system of diplomatic procedure, of getting what they want from the chinese. while we are spending millions in sending armies to fight the chinese, for questions which are as much or more for their own interests as for ours, and then as conquerors astonishing the chinese by the moderation of our demands, the russians are in the most amicable manner possible pushing forward their frontiers, and slicing off a thousand miles of chinese coast, all the while maintaining their position as friendly allies of the chinese, in contradistinction to the english barbarians, who are always blustering and fighting, in utter defiance of the rules of courtesy. after all it may be as well so. our interest as a commercial people is to develop the resources of the world. the russians will certainly do this better than the chinese in those wild northern regions; at all events, a desert on the one hand, and a wilderness on the other, cannot be made much less productive than they are. but the chinese cannot be expected to view the matter in this light, and yet they are so infatuated as to nurse the snake in their bosom to the exclusion of others who would be likely to checkmate his designs. the russian government has shown a strange penchant for annexing vast deserts to its dominions. much may it make out of them; but if half the enterprise and money had been expended in improving the condition of the enormous territory it already possesses, the russian empire would have been too powerful for all europe. but that is their own affair. the last thing to be done in peking was to settle our bills at the hotel (!) and restaurant, and exorbitant enough they were. on asking the proprietor of the hotel for his account, he replied, "oh! pay what you like." "in that case," said we, "we like to pay nothing." "all right, as you please," with the most lofty indifference, answered our host. driven almost wild by his coolness, we tendered about six times what we should have paid for better entertainment anywhere else. the wretch turned up his nose at it with a supercilious air that nearly roused the british lion. the restaurant was as unconscionable in its demands, but we had something substantial for our money there, and did not so much object; but to pay through the nose for a corner to sleep in, which no gentleman would think fit for his hounds, did go sorely against the grain. i cannot imagine what makes things so dear in peking, nor do i believe they are so dear to the initiated. one thing is cheap, and that is ice, and the most refreshing sight we saw during our stay in the capital, was the cartloads of the precious commodity being carried about in large square blocks; and how did we pity our friends whom we had left in shanghae, sweltering through the worst part of the summer without this luxury--i ought to say necessary--in such a climate. no care is taken of ice in peking. it is collected and thrown into large pits, and may melt as much as it likes. if there was any chance of its falling short, it would simply be a question of a few thousand tons more to be thrown into the heap in the winter. [illustration: part of the emperor's palace, yuen-min-yuen. destroyed .] the local bank-notes in peking are a great convenience. they are issued in amounts from cash (about a dollar) and upwards, and are in universal use in the city. the use of them saves the natives from lugging about huge strings of copper cash, the only coinage of china, lbs. weight of which are worth about sixty shillings. these notes are not current outside the city walls, however, and here is an inconvenience; for whatever cash balance you may have in that medium must be paid away for something or other before you leave. it would be possible to change them for copper cash or sycee silver, but that would involve delay and perhaps trouble. chapter iv. peking to chan-kia-kow. on the th of august, having arranged all our affairs in peking, we set out for tung-chow, where we had left the priests to provide us transport to chan-kia-kow. disappointment awaited us--nothing was done. we were very angry, and a hot discussion ensued between us and the head priest, but we could make neither rhyme nor reason out of him. here was a dilemma. ought we to wait till the morrow, and try ourselves to hire beasts of burden at tung-chow, with this shaven head probably plotting against us? or ought we to start by break of day with our whole baggage to peking, and trust to arranging matters there? to do that even, we were helpless, unless the priests were on our side. we resolved, therefore, to conciliate the monk. at this juncture m. noetzli, who had kindly volunteered to accompany us so far, being acquainted with the ways of the road, addressed the priest in russian. the effect was marked and instantaneous--the priest's countenance changed--he opened himself out--explained the true causes why he had not been able to get the mules, and suggested that we should get carts to take our baggage to peking the next day. he would accompany us himself, and help us to negotiate for transport in peking. that settled, we felt relieved, and ate our frugal dinner in peace and comfort. i must explain the wonderful effect produced by the use of the russian language. i have already intimated that this fang-wang temple has been constantly used by the russians as a dépôt. intimate relations have grown up between the russians and the priests, and mutual confidence and kindliness has been the result. several of the priests have learnt the russian language in their frequent intercourse with the russians. the priests know no other foreigners. on our own merits we could do nothing with them; but the moment a connecting link seemed to be shown between us and the russians, we were regarded as belonging to a privileged class. next morning, we were again on the road to peking, bag and baggage. we rode, noetzli on a mule, which was quiet and tractable enough till a straw touched his tail, when he bounded off, kicking and jumping, floundered in a rut, pitched noetzli over his head, then tenderly kicked him. _mem._--never ride a mule if you can help it, they are uncouth, unmanageable brutes. our late landlord in peking greeted us obsequiously on our return, and our old friends at the restaurant were no less delighted that their newly acquired art of cooking mutton chops was again in requisition. our clerical friend soon appeared with a large, old-fashioned, blue cotton umbrella. we at once went with him to a shop where mules and litters were to be hired, and after the preliminary salutations and cups of tea, we asked for mules, and were told off-hand that they had none. this we knew to be untrue, because we had seen them. we tried several others, but met with the same reply. this looked hopeful, indeed, and it seemed there was nothing left for us that day, but to go to the theatre, where we saw some good acting and an audience thoroughly enjoying it; and so we drowned our own troubles for a time. the next expedient was to order as good a dinner as our ingenuity could devise, out of the materials at hand. a good dinner is a wonderful soother, and has been, perhaps, too much overlooked by philosophers. the next day, th of august, our priest, worn out in our service, came and reported himself sick. he had feverish symptoms, for which we administered quinine. this break-down of our mainstay was unfortunate, for as we could not get on with his assistance, how could we manage without it? the mule-proprietors still maintained in the morning that there were no mules to be had; but at mid-day they sent to say we could have as many as we liked, at slightly exorbitant prices. we thereupon engaged eight pack-mules at four taels[ ] each, and three mule-litters at eight taels each, to convey us and our belongings to chan-kia-kow, distant about li, or a four days' journey. it is difficult to divine why it was that these crafty dealers so obstinately maintained the non-existence of the mules. they refused even to listen to an offer on the first day. they were prepared to demand an extortionate price, and we were equally prepared to pay it, but they determined to play with us a little, in order to work our feelings up to the requisite pitch. and when they had reduced us to despair, they thought we would be in a proper frame of mind to accede to their demands, however extravagant they might be. but now everything was satisfactorily arranged, and the mules were to be sent to us early in the morning. the fare amounted to sixty taels in all, of which we paid one-third on the signing of the contract, one-third when the mules were loaded, and the balance on arrival at chan-kia-kow. [ ] tael equal to s. d. my ma-foo now made himself very busy. up to this time he had done little but entertain me with cock-and-bull stories about his late master, and his reasons for leaving his service, at every favourable opportunity appealing to me for my opinion, as to whether he was a "good man." i always answered in the negative, but he solaced himself with the reflection that i would find him out and do him justice when we got to chan-kia-kow. now that we were about starting, we thought of many little things we wanted for our comfort on the journey, and who so eligible to make the purchases as "ma-foo." his eagle eye discerned in this a fine scope for his energies, for nothing tickles a chinaman so much as to have money passing through his hands. "ma-foo" set to work manfully, and was proceeding very satisfactorily to all parties, bringing the articles we wanted, and rendering an account of the prices paid, until he brought me a coarse cotton bag, which he put in at two dollars. "no," i said, "i won't have it at that price. take it back to the shop." by and by, he re-appeared with the bag, and offered it for a dollar and a-half. i refused it; and sent him back to the shop. after a while, he returned to the charge with the wretched bag: told me he could not take it back, but reduced his demand to one dollar. i asked him how he could afford to sell it for one dollar, seeing he had paid two for it. "maskee--you take it." i saw he was "stuck" with it, and that if he failed to realise, he would be under the necessity of stealing something from me to make up for his loss. i therefore accepted it--not without making him confess that he had paid only one dollar for the bag. it was now my turn to ask him where his vaunted goodness was, seeing he tried to cheat me of a dollar. he only grinned, and said, in this instance he was a "little" bad. he was but an inexperienced knave. a clever chinaman, that is, an ordinary average chinaman, would have managed an affair of that kind so adroitly as to defy suspicion, except the general feeling one always experiences that all chinamen are rogues. but small peculations are considered by the chinese as their legitimate game. when they are intrusted with commissions, they look on it as a sacred duty to scrape as much as they can out of the affair for themselves. this runs through the whole race, and every grade of society, from the highest official in the empire to the meanest beggar. in case these remarks should be taken to contain a general sweeping charge of dishonesty against the whole chinese race, i must explain myself a little more fully. the system of peculation is recognised in china, as a legitimate source of emolument; and within certain limits, arbitrarily fixed by custom, it is not held to be inconsistent with honesty. the government connive at it to an alarming extent, by paying responsible officers mere nominal salaries, leaving it to their own ingenuity to improve their fortunes. but with all that, it is a rare thing for a chinaman to betray a trust; the best proof of which is that they are trusted, under the slenderest of guarantees, with large sums of money. among the respectable class of merchants, their word is as good as their bond. a bargain once concluded is unflinchingly adhered to. their slipperiness is exhausted in the preliminary negotiations. their "cheating" is conducted on certain broad and well understood principles. but for practical honesty, the chinese may well excite the admiration of many who think themselves vastly superior. when we were at war with the viceroy of canton, the european factories were burnt, and foreigners compelled to abandon the place, leaving a great deal of property in the hands of chinese merchants. repudiation never occurred to these chinamen's minds. on the contrary, they found their way to hong-kong, during the blockade of the canton river, for the purpose of settling accounts with the foreigners. china contains good and bad in about the same proportion as other countries. old john bell says of them:--"they are honest, and observe the strictest honour and justice in their dealings. it must, however, be acknowledged, that not a few of them are much addicted to knavery, and well skilled in the art of cheating. they have, indeed, found many europeans as great proficients in that art as themselves." a very fair summary of chinese character. bright and early in the morning the mules and litters came, and we were three hours at work, loading and arranging everything. it required a good deal of management, as the loads are not lashed on the mules' backs, but balanced, so that they must be pretty equally divided on each side of the pack-saddle. we had somehow nine mules instead of eight. we had under lbs. weight of baggage to carry. that did not give a full load to each mule, for they are reputed to carry catties, or lbs. each. the loads of our team averaged lbs. the mule litter, used in the north of china, is a large palanquin suspended on the backs of two mules, length-wise. strong leather bands connect the points of the shafts, resting on the saddles of the respective mules. an iron pin, fixed in the top of the saddle, passes through a hole in the leather, and so keeps it in its place. the shafts are, of course, a good length, to reach from one mule to the other, and to leave the animals plenty of room to walk. there is, consequently, a good deal of spring in the machine. the motion is not at all disagreeable; compared with a cart, it is luxurious. there is hardly room in the palanquin to stretch out full length, but in other respects it is very commodious, having room in the bottom for a good quantity of baggage. about o'clock on the th august our caravan moved slowly out of the courtyard of the inn, which we left with no regret, and we slowly felt our way through the dusty, crowded streets of peking towards the north gate, which was our exit from the city. i was on horseback, intending to get into my litter should the sun prove too powerful, which it did when we got to the sandy plain a little way outside the city. the slow pace of the mules was most disheartening, but i had yet to learn much patience in travelling. our first resting-place was at sha-ho, a village sixty li or twenty miles from peking. here we made ourselves a dinner, and fed the cattle. there are two very fine old stone bridges at sha-ho, but the river that runs under them is only a ditch now. it was drawing late in the afternoon before we were on the road again, and we had not gone many miles before darkness came. the country is well cultivated with cereals, the chief crop being barbadoes millet, standing from ten to fifteen feet high. strips of cotton plants appear here and there. it is a delicate-looking plant in this part of the country. the last five miles of the road to nankow is very rough and stony, and as the night was dark when we passed it, our animals had great difficulty in keeping their legs. about p.m. we arrived at the inn at nankow, and created a scene of no small confusion by our entry into the courtyard. it was already filled with travellers' gear of all sorts, and it was long before we could pick out a clear space to unload our mules. the fitful glimmer of the dimmest of all lanterns helped to make the darkness visible, but did not assist us in clearing the heels of horses, mules, and donkeys that were straggling all over the place. in the midst of the babel of tongues, and the senseless yells of our fellow-travellers, as they one after another awoke in a nightmare, we were fain to retreat to our dormitory, and with a scant supper, lay down to rest hoping to find everything in its place in the morning. the village of nankow is at the entrance of the mountain pass of that name. it is for this pass alone that the mule-litters are necessary, for it would be impossible to take any wheeled carriage through. in a russian sketch of the route from peking to kiachta, it is stated that the road is passable for carriages throughout. there are several very difficult rocky passes on the road, but this one at nankow is, i am certain, impracticable for carriages. [illustration: the nankow pass. (page .)] on the th august, early in the morning, we entered the defile. it is indeed a terrible road, over huge boulders of rock. the pass is about thirteen miles in length, and for the greater part of that distance nothing breaks the monotony of the precipitous mountain wall on either side. the remains of several old forts are seen in the pass, showing the importance that has been attached to it in former times. it certainly is the key of the position, and the last step of an invader towards peking. but it is so well defended by nature, that a handful of men could keep an army at bay, if any were so bold as to attempt to force this thirteen miles of defile. the care bestowed on the defences hereabouts shows the terror inspired by the mongols and other outer tribes in the hearts of the rulers of china. our mules struggled gallantly with their loads, slipping and tripping at every step, and landed us at the outside of the pass, without accident of any kind, but not without a good deal of wear and tear of hoof. they even kept up almost their full travelling pace of three miles an hour. at the northern exit from the pass a branch of one of the inner "great walls" crosses. it is out of repair, but still the archway over the port is good, and it would puzzle anyone to get in or out of the pass without going through the gate. at a small walled town, called cha-tow, just clear of the pass, we halted for our mid-day meal, at a very good inn. the inns hereabouts are nearly all kept by mahommedans, called in chinese "hwuy-hwuy." the modicum of extraneous civilisation they have acquired, through the religion of the prophet, is sufficient to mark them as more intelligent and enterprising than their fellows. it is not likely that their tenets are very strictly kept, but they are sufficiently so to enable the mohammedans to keep together, and form communities and associations of their own. mine host at cha-tow asked me for some wine, on which i read him a lecture on the duty of abstinence inculcated by the prophet. he admitted this was so, but said they were not over strait-laced in those parts. the mohammedans have their mosques at tientsin, peking, and in most large cities in the north and west of china. they are evidently left unmolested in the exercise of their religion, and enjoy every social privilege. the chinese government is really very tolerant of all religious opinions, and the chinese as a race are so supremely indifferent to religious matters, that they are the last people in the world who would be likely to work themselves up to fanatical persecution. they are all too busy to attend to such matters. the chinese government has, no doubt, shown itself jealous of the propagation of the christian religion, but it is its political tendencies only that frighten them. they have a wholesome recollection of the ambitious projects of the jesuits in their day of influence,[ ] and they have been constantly kept in hot water by the propaganda. they have to meet ever-recurrent demands by the self-constituted champion of religion in the east, for the murder of some french or italian priest in some unheard-of part of the country, where he had no right to be, except at his own proper peril. they see in every native convert a contingent _casus belli_ with some powerful state, and very naturally seek to check the spread of such dangerous doctrines by all indirect means. this unfortunate mixing-up of politics with religion has been a deadly blow to the real advancement of christianity in china. and the abuse of the christian vocabulary by the taeping rebels is not calculated to prepossess the chinese authorities in favour of the western faith. japan is another country where the government, and i may say also the people, are utterly indifferent to religion, but where the christian religion has been, and is, tabooed with a vigour unsurpassed in the history of the world. and who that has read the story of the introduction of christianity into that country by the jesuits, can blame the government of japan for its arbitrary exercise of power? [ ] father gerbillon, a jesuit, was the chinese plenipotentiary who concluded the treaty of nerchinsk with the russians, in . huc laments the low status of the chinese christians, as compared with the mussulmen, and attributes it to the want of self-assertion. when a christian gets into trouble his brethren hide themselves. huc would have driven them to the other extreme. he advocated strong associations by which the christians might "awe" the mandarins, as if there must necessarily be antagonism between the two. the inference from which must be either that the christians are systematically persecuted, as such, or that they are in the habit of committing offences against society. the chinese government and people have a horror of secret societies and of any political associations whatever. but if huc's converts had been content to live like ordinary good citizens, neither shrinking from nor courting publicity, they would probably have disarmed suspicion and escaped molestation. above all, if huc and his clerical brethren could have divested themselves of the character of spies who had crept into china in defiance of the law of the land, for purposes which the government could not understand, and therefore assumed to be pernicious, they might have saved their disciples from some annoyance, or, as they love to call it, persecution. in the inn at chatow, and in all the other inns north of peking, we found a large cauldron of boiling mutton in a central position in the kitchen. this is kept boiling from morning till night; and the broth, which, by itself, is by no means unpalatable, is always handy as a stock for any messes the wayfarers may fancy. a youth spends his time in kneading chow-patties, which he does very skilfully and rapidly. these are torn and thrown in pieces into the boiling mass, and, when sufficiently done, are served out with a due proportion of broth, as a savoury dish for a hungry man. the "steward of the cauldron," as huc would probably have called him, has acquired great expertness in serving out his stuff. with a variety of ladles, all sieves, more or less fine, he will serve up either the plain broth, or nimbly seize any of the morsels that are tumbling about in confusion in the pot. mutton is cheap and abundant here, and is the staple article of food. the sheep are pastured on many hill-sides that are not fit for anything else, and the constant droves of sheep that come in from mongolia, for the supply of peking, pass along this road, and are no doubt to be had cheap. we now enter a plain about ten miles broad, bounded on either side by bold mountain ranges running east and west. we cross the plain obliquely towards the northern mountain chain. this plain must be elevated more than feet. the air was fresher than about peking, and a very marked difference was apparent in the fertility of the soil. the millet and other crops were stunted, the soil was arid and rather stony. the hills are quite bare, but a few trees are dotted over the plain. at hwai-lai-hien, a good-sized walled town, we halted for the night. outside the city is a very large stone bridge, evidently of the same period as those at sha-ho. five gothic-shaped arches are still standing, and another is detached at a distance of some feet, the intermediate part of the bridge having no doubt been destroyed. there is no water now in the river, but the bed is still well marked, and the old embankments remain, about or yards apart. the old bed of the river is in a high state of cultivation now. i find the following notice of this bridge and this river in bell's travels. he does not, indeed, give the name of the town, but, tracing up his march from stage to stage, between the great wall and peking, it is evident that hwai-lai is the station referred to. he says: "about noon, next day, we came to a large, populous, and well-built city, with broad streets, as straight as a line. near this place runs a fine river, which appears navigable, having across it a noble stone bridge, of several arches, and paved with large square stones." bell also makes frequent allusion to an earthquake, which did great damage to this part of the country in july, . many towns and villages were half destroyed, and some were wholly laid in ruins, and "vast numbers of people" were engulfed. "i must confess," says bell, "it was a dismal scene to see everywhere such heaps of rubbish." the district being subject to earthquakes, makes it probable that the fine bridge has been destroyed by that agency. but what has become of the fine navigable river that existed in , and has now disappeared? has it also been upset by an earthquake? the river was probably the kwei-ho, which now runs in another direction, but some of the gentlemen of peking or tientsin, who have explored the country, will no doubt elucidate this interesting question. on the th we made an early start, and went at a very steady pace towards the northern chain of mountains. on approaching them we turned slightly to the left, and skirted the base of the hills. we met a good deal of traffic on the road here, all goods being carried on the backs of mules and donkeys. coal formed a conspicuous object, on its way to peking, where it is used to a considerable extent. immense flocks of sheep are continually passing in the direction of peking, and we also met a good many herds of horses bound the same way. our mid-day halt was at shacheng, a walled town. all over this country are the ruins of old forts; and a line of square towers, with a good many blanks, runs nearly in the direction of the road. if these forts could speak they could tell a tale of many a hard-fought battle before and after the mongol conquest of china. this part of the country was hotly contested by genghis khan; and, in the years and , the town of suen-wha-foo, and other places in the neighbourhood, were several times taken and re-taken. "a bloody battle" was fought near hway-lai, wherein genghis defeated the kin, a manchu dynasty who then ruled kitay or northern china. the pass at nankow, and its fortresses, were taken by chepe, one of genghis's generals. a story is somewhere told that, in olden times, when intelligence was transmitted through the country by beacon fires lighted on these towers, an emperor was cajoled by one of his ladies to give the signal of alarm and summon his generals and officers from all quarters. the word was given, and the signal flashed through the chinese dominions. the mandarins assembled in the capital to repel the invader, but, finding they had merely been used as playthings to amuse a woman, they returned in wrath to the provinces. by and by the tartars did come; the alarm was again given; but this time no one responded to the emperor's call for aid. at chi-ming-i, another walled town, we had done our day's work, but it was too early to halt, so we pushed on to a small village called shan-shui-pu. at chi-ming-i we met the yang-ho, a small river that seems to lose itself in the sand. turning northwards we followed the course of the yang-ho, and entered another defile. the scenery at the entrance of the pass, where the opening is wide, with a number of valleys running into the hills, and snug-looking villages nestling in cosy nooks, is a relief from the dull monotony of the plain on the one side, and from the wild rocky barriers on the other. it is a romantic little spot, full of verdure, and completely sheltered from the north winds. it has therefore been a favourite resort for ecclesiastics; for, with all their dullness, the chinese priests have everywhere displayed excellent taste in the selection of sites for their temples and monasteries. the following pretty legend of the place is given by bell, and, as he says, it is a fair specimen of the numerous fabulous stories which the chinese imagination delights to feed upon:--"near this place is a steep rock, standing on a plain, inaccessible on all sides, except to the west, where a narrow winding path is cut in the rock, which leads to a pagan temple and nunnery built upon the top of it. these edifices make a pretty appearance from the plain, and, as the story goes, were built from the foundation, in one night, by a lady, on the following occasion. this lady was very beautiful, virtuous, and rich, and had many powerful princes for her suitors. she told them she intended to build a temple and a monastery of certain dimensions, with her own hands, in one night, on the top of this rock; and whoever would undertake to build a stone bridge over a river in the neighbourhood, in the same space of time, him she promised to accept for a husband. all the lovers having heard the difficult task imposed on them, returned to their respective dominions, except one stranger, who undertook to perform the hard condition. the lover and the lady began their labour at the same time, and the lady completed her part before the light appeared; but as soon as the sun was risen, she saw, from the top of the rock, that her lover had not half finished his bridge, having raised only the pillars for the arches. failing, therefore, in his part of the performance, he also was obliged to depart to his own country, and the lady (poor lady!) passed the remainder of her days in her own monastery." the yang-ho had been flooded a few weeks before. it had now subsided, but still it came down from the hills roaring like a cataract. it runs through the pass, and falls not less than feet in a distance of five miles. we followed its course through the mountains, sometimes close to the river. the noise of it at times was deafening, and one of my ponies could with difficulty be kept on the path from fright at the noise. the road became very difficult as we ascended the pass, and it grew dark long before we reached our halting-place, shan-shui-pu. when we got there we found but poor accommodation. we managed to eat some rice and eggs, and surveyed the premises to find a decent place to sleep, but without success. six mongol travellers were lying on the ground in the outer yard, side by side, their sleep undisturbed by the noise our party made in coming into the hostelry. we slept in our litters. coal is worked in this neighbourhood, but in a very imperfect way. as far as i could detect, it is merely scooped out of the hill-sides where the seam happens to crop out. at half-past five next morning we left shan-shui-pu. the road continued very rocky for a mile or two, and led through an undulating country. we then got on to another terrace very much like the one we crossed yesterday, and bounded by two parallel ranges of hills. at suen-wha-fu, a large walled city, we halted to breakfast in a very comfortable inn, much frequented by russian travellers, who had inscribed their names on the walls as far back as . mr. noetzli and i rode ahead of the caravan in order to reach chan-kia-kow early, and see how the land lay. chan-kia-kow was the critical point in our journey, and we were naturally anxious to manage matters there with proper address. if we could but get camels to carry us across the desert to kiachta, we were safe from all annoyance and delay for the rest of our journey. so we innocently thought; but the sequel will show how short-sighted we were. chapter v. chan-kia-kow. we reached chan-kia-kow at o'clock, after a hard ride. it is a large, straggling town, lying in a valley surrounded on three sides by mountains, and is bounded on the north by the great wall, which descends precipitously from the brow of the hill, crosses the valley, and up the other side. the town of chan-kia-kow has a character peculiarly its own. it derives its importance from its being the focus of the trade between russia and china. all goods to and from kiachta must pass this way, whether on the direct route for the hu-quang provinces or _viâ_ tientsin. the result is a large "foreign" population--that is, of chinese from other provinces. many of these men have passed most of their lives in kiachta, and speak russian. most of them are wealthy; indeed, the kiachta trade has been the means of enriching both chinese and russians, and many of both nations who have been engaged in it have amassed large fortunes. there is an outward appearance of wealth in chan-kia-kow, and more show of newness than one meets with in other of their fusty old towns. some new temples have lately been built by the merchants, and new archways, of which the paint is fresh and good, a thing rarely seen in china. this being the frontier town between china and mongolia, attracts considerable numbers of mongols, who bring in their camels to hire for the transport of goods across the desert, and drive in their sheep, cattle, and horses for sale, taking back with them in exchange store of brick-tea and small articles of various sorts, such as pipes, tobacco, &c. the russians, also, have had a factory here for a few years, and altogether a rare motley crowd is the population of chan-kia-kow. the russians call it kalgan, a name of mongol origin, meaning, according to bell, "the everlasting wall." but it is more probably a corrupt form of halgan, or khalgan, signifying a gate. the name is quite out of use among the modern mongols, who invariably employ the chinese name. mr. noetzli first endeavoured to hunt up some of his chinese acquaintance, and a tedious business it was, in the interminably long streets, and in a rather hot sun, fatigued as we were with a long ride. after several false scents, we hit on the establishment of a shanse man who had been thirty years in kiachta. he and his household spoke good russian, and he was proud to serve up tea, european fashion, with cups and saucers, sugar and teaspoons. this was very acceptable to us; and we rested as long as we could under his roof, while he entertained us with much interesting conversation, and many cups of the cheering beverage. having got directions by which to find out the russians, who had lately gone into new quarters, we soon traced them out in a neat little house built on the hill-side, out of town, that is, beyond the great wall, in the narrow pass leading into mongolia. mr. noetzli, being already acquainted with some of them, and speaking a little russian, we soon made friends with them, and induced them to invite us to take up our quarters with them. so, tying up our beasts, we abandoned ourselves to tea-drinking for an hour or two. the russians were exceedingly kind and hospitable to us. we were much more comfortable with them than we could hope to be in a chinese inn; but we derived other advantages from living with the russians which were of more importance to us. we were not friendless; the cunning chinese could not look on us merely in the light of victims who had come there to be choused and swindled. our negotiations for transport would pass through the hands of our russian friends, who were accustomed to deal in such matters. so far all was well. but mr. noetzli had sent an express on some time before to ask the russians to prepare us camels. had they done it? no. this looked black rather, but we resigned ourselves to circumstances, confidently believing that things would mend when they came to the worst. we now prepared to play our last card, which was that mr. noetzli should go, accompanied by chebekin, the russian factotum, a most indefatigable fellow, who speaks mongol like a native, to a lama convent, called bain-tolochoi, two days' journey into mongolia. there they were to discover a certain priest, to whom noetzli was accredited by the lamas at peking, and endeavour to get him to advise some of his mongol brethren to give us camels. the simple mongols reverence their lamas, and will readily execute their behests, even at great personal inconvenience. this lama was a man of great influence in his own circle, and we were a little sanguine about the result, if only a favourable reception could be had. it was arranged, therefore, that our two friends should set out on horseback on the morrow, while we kicked our heels about in idleness and suspense at chan-kia-kow. the next morning, st of august, while we were at breakfast, two mongols came lounging into the place. one of them was the courier who carries the post-bag to kiachta, who was hanging about waiting for post-day; the other was a friend of his, but apparently a stranger to our hosts. we took the opportunity of asking about camels, and chebekin set to work palavering. in a quarter of an hour the whole thing was settled, we were to have camels in four days, and we should be ready to start on the fifth day. the price we paid for eight camels (we really had twelve) for miles, was taels (£ ), and two bricks of tea to the ferryman of a certain river. thus we were once more at ease in our minds; the two scouts were well pleased to see their horses unsaddled again, and we were all happy together. the next day mr. noetzli left us to return to tientsin, and we were rather in a bad plight, not being able to communicate with our russian friends, except in chinese, a language of which we were almost wholly ignorant. one of them vigorously rubbed up some english he had once learned, and in a few days made great progress. while we are waiting for our camels we have plenty of time to see chan-kia-kow, but after all there is not much to see. the view from the house where we lived was across the pass, and looked straight on the mountain wall on the other side. so close were we to the mountain that the sun was several hours up before he was seen topping the hill. the great wall runs over the ridges of these hills, nearly east and west. this structure is entirely in ruins here. the rubbish that once composed it remains and marks the line. many of the towers are still standing. i doubt if the wall ever has been so massive in this quarter as near its eastern terminus, where i crossed it a few years ago. where the great wall crosses the town of chan-kia-kow it is kept in good repair, and has a good solid arch with a gate which is closed nominally at sunset. there is no traffic from the town except through this port, and all mongols and chinese dismount in passing. one of our amusements in chan-kia-kow was to attend the horse-fair which is held every morning on an esplanade just outside the city on the mongol side of the great wall. it is a most exciting scene, and attracts a great concourse of people. several hundred ponies, chiefly mongol, are here exposed for sale every morning. they are tied up in line on either side, leaving the middle space clear, and are taken out in turns and ridden up and down the open space by wild-looking jockeys, who show off their paces to the highest advantage. the fast ones are galloped as hard as their legs can carry them from end to end of the course, pulling up dead short, about ship and back again, the riders all the while holding out their whip hand at full length, and yelling like infuriated demons. there are generally half a dozen on the course at a time, all going full tilt, and brushing past each other most dexterously. they go tearing through the crowd of spectators without checking their pace, and yet it is rare for any one to get ridden over. amongst these ponies are many extraordinary trotters, and many trained to artificial paces. these are generally more sought after by purchasers than the gallopers. a number of men hang about the horse-fair who act as brokers between buyers and sellers. these men are invariably chinese. they soon attached themselves to us, offering their services, and descanting on the merits of the various steeds that were constantly scouring past us. their mode of making and receiving offers is to pull their long sleeves down and communicate with each other by the touch of the fingers. this seems to be more of a traditional ceremony than anything else, for when they have made a bid with so much show of secrecy, they frequently continue the bargaining _vivâ voce_ in the hearing of the whole multitude. the prices of the ponies sold varied from five taels to twenty, or say from thirty shillings to six guineas. we had occasion to make some purchases, and paid about ten taels each for very good useful ponies. one of mine that i had brought from tientsin had got a very bad sore back from the last day's ride with a badly fitting saddle. he was useless to me in that condition, and i sold him to a horsedealer for five taels. large droves of cattle and sheep came in from mongolia, but the sale of these is not carried on with so much ostentation as that of the horses. we daily, almost hourly, observed long strings of ox-carts coming down through the pass loaded with short square logs of soft wood. the carts are of the roughest description, and have not, i think, a bit of iron in their construction. this wood is brought from the mountains near urga, across the desert of gobi, a distance of miles, and is chiefly used in the manufacture of coffins by the chinese. these ox caravans travel very slowly, a journey of miles occupying forty days or more; but it is a cheap and convenient mode of conveyance. the animals feed themselves on the way, and cost very little to start with. camels could do the work, but a camel is a wretched object in harness, and is quite unable to drag even a light cart through a steep pass. horses or oxen have to do this work for them. the pass at chan-kia-kow is very stony for some fifteen miles, and the oxen have to be shod with thin iron plates. the chinese farriers at chan-kia-kow are very expert at shoeing cattle and horses. they don't attempt to make a shoe to fit any particular hoof, but keep a stock on hand, and selecting the nearest size, they hammer the shoe approximately to the shape of the hoof. they don't trouble themselves to cut the hoof down much, and you can have your beast shod on all four feet in a remarkably short time. the head of the russian establishment had been absent on a journey to peking. he returned while we were in his house, travelling, as we had done, in a mule-litter. amongst his travelling gear that we saw turned out of the palanquin was a small sized "_samovar_," or tea-urn, which is the greatest institution in russia, and as we were first introduced to it in chan-kia-kow i must give some account of it here. _samovar_ is composed of two russian words, meaning, i believe, "self-boiling." it is a very simple and admirable contrivance for boiling water quickly, and keeping it boiling, without which it is impossible to make tea fit to drink. the samovar is an elegantly shaped vase, made of brass, with a tube about two and a half inches in diameter going down the centre from top to bottom. a charcoal fire burns in this tube, and, as the water is all round it, a large "heating-surface" is obtained, and the water is acted on very rapidly. samovars are made of all sizes, the capacity being estimated in tea cups. an average sized one contains twenty to twenty-five cups, or rather glasses, for it is customary among the russians to drink tea out of tumblers. those who can afford it drink very good tea, and they are probably the most accomplished tea-drinkers in the world; our countrywomen might even learn a lesson from them in the art of tea-making. they use small earthenware tea-pots, and their first principle seems to be to supply the pot bountifully with the raw material. the infusion comes off very strong, and they judge of its strength by the colour in the glass. they put but a little tea in the glass, and then dilute it with boiling water from the samovar, in about the proportions of the whiskey and water in toddy. as a rule, they use sugar and milk, or cream, when procurable. at chan-kia-kow it was not to be had, for the chinese do not use milk, or any preparation from it; and it probably never occurred to the russians that they might keep their own cow for a mere song. the russian gets through an amazing quantity of tea in the course of a day, and i verily believe they consume more per head than the chinese themselves. the samovar is almost constantly blowing off steam--morning, noon, and night it is to be seen on the table, and they never stop sipping tea while there is any water left. it is as much a necessary of life with them as their daily bread, or tobacco to an inveterate smoker, and their attachment to their own way of making it, is strikingly exhibited by the fact, that a russian, travelling among the chinese, where every possible facility for tea-making is at hand, should consider it essential to his comfort to carry his own samovar about with him. during our stay at chan-kia-kow, we experienced a considerable change in the weather. the first two days it was hot, but with a fresher and more elastic atmosphere than about peking. this is probably due to the elevation, and the vicinity of mountains. we had ascended by successive passes and terraces from peking about feet, which is approximately the elevation of chan-kia-kow. a thunder-squall on the st of august cooled the air so much that we had to sleep under a blanket that night. next morning was quite chilly with the thermometer at °. at mid-day on the rd it stood at °, and on the morning of the th it was °. it got warmer again afterwards, but we began to think there was something in the russian warnings of great cold in mongolia, and we did not regret being well provided with blankets and furs. as the time drew near for our departure we seriously set to work to supply ourselves with necessaries for the journey across the desert. our mongol friends had contracted to carry us to kiachta in thirty days, but to provide against accidents we allowed a good deal more. although we were well supplied for the desert journey with preserved provisions, wine, and bottled porter, the opportunity of procuring fresh vegetables was too tempting to be overlooked. at chan-kia-kow we found some of the finest cabbages[ ] in the world, carrots, &c. potatoes are also to be had in the season, but we were too early. these and some fresh beef equipped us fully in that department. [ ] these cabbages are said to have been originally introduced from russia. then we had to purchase two carts to travel in. the russians and chinese always travel so, for it would be too fatiguing to ride on a camel all the way, they go so long at a stretch--sixteen to eighteen hours without stopping. the carts are built on the same principle as those in use about peking and tientsin, but larger. they are drawn by camels. we essayed to make these purchases, and soon found one cart in good order, barring the wheels. we then asked a wheelwright to make a pair of wheels for it, but he would have charged more for the wheels than the cost of a new cart, completely furnished. it was evident that we could not manage these matters without being shamelessly imposed upon, and we therefore begged our good friends, the russians, to take our business in hand. everything now went smoothly. two carts were quickly found, second-hand, and at moderate prices. when we had got them we found they wanted harness, that is, sundry strips of leather thongs, attached to the points of the shafts, and which are secured in a very primitive, but effective, way to the saddle gear of the camels. then the covers of our carts looked rather weather-beaten, and it would be cold in mongolia. new felt covers had therefore to be obtained, and for extra warmth, nailed on over the old ones. our wheels would want oiling. we must therefore have five catties of oil, cost cash. but how to carry it? a pot was requisite--cost cash more. there was really no end to the small things that suggested themselves. we had ponies--extra felt saddle cloths were wanted to protect their backs. and how were we to catch them when turned out to graze during our halts? hobbles must be got for this. we also took some dry food for our ponies to eat when the grass was very thin, but they would not look at it, and we had eventually to throw it away to lighten our camels. what with extra rope, a bag of charcoal, covers for our baggage in case of rain, lanterns, and a variety of other things, we made up a formidable list of odds and ends. the account rendered filled a sheet of foolscap, but the whole amount of our purchases at chan-kia-kow, exclusive of the first cost of two carts, came to less than six pounds, and this included several pairs of felt boots and a couple of goat-skin jackets. no one travelling that way (unless it be in the early summer), should omit to procure a couple of pairs of these felt boots. there is nothing like them for warmth, and they can be got large enough to pull over your other boots. i used mine nearly all the way to moscow, and rarely experienced the sensation of cold feet, though exposed in all sorts of carriages, and in severe weather. on the th of august, the mongol gave notice that the camels were at hand, and on the th they came into the courtyard, uttering that disagreeably plaintive cry that is peculiar to the camel, and more particularly to the juveniles. the camels looked very large and ungainly in the small enclosure, but the mongols soon made room by making them kneel down close together, when they immediately commenced chewing the cud. the mongols manage their camels by means of a tweak passed through the nose, with a thin string attached. they pull the string with a slight jerk, saying "soh, soh," and the animal, screaming the while, falls on his knees, and with three oscillating movements he is flat down with his belly on the ground. the mongols had already tackled our baggage and arranged it to their own satisfaction, so as to suit not only the weight each camel was to carry, but to balance one side equally with the other. each package is well lashed up with stout rope, leaving a short loop. in loading, a package is lifted up on each side simultaneously, the loops crossed over the camel's back between the humps, one loop passed through the other, and secured by a wooden pin. the load is then allowed to fall, the weight comes on the wooden pin, and so keeps it in its place. the back of the camel is protected by a series of pieces of thick felt, ingeniously laid round the humps, on the sides, and very thickly over the hollow between the humps. this mass of felt is kept in its place by means of a frame-work of wood on each side, lashed together across the camel's back. some hours were occupied in adjusting the camel loads and getting all ready for the start. we did not hurry, as we could not afford to forget anything now, as we were about to plunge into the desert, where we would be as entirely thrown on our own resources as if we were in a ship at sea. horses had to be hired to take our carts through the pass, a distance of fifteen miles, the camels being unequal to the task. the camel has little strength in proportion to his size. his formation peculiarly adapts him to carry weight, his whole strength being concentrated in the arch of his back; and yet in proportion he carries much less than a mule, that is, considerably less than double. for draught purposes, as i have already mentioned, the camel is ill adapted. his pace is remarkably slow, and in short he is only fit to work in deserts where, comparatively speaking, no other animal can live. his faculty of going for many days without food or water, and of nourishing himself on any sort of vegetable growth that comes in his way, is invaluable to his nomad masters. chapter vi. mongolia. we left chan-kia-kow on horseback, escorted by three of our kind russian friends, messieurs weretenikoff, iguminoff, and beloselutsoff, who accompanied us a few miles up the pass, and bid us god speed. it took a long time for our camel-drivers to form the order of march, and we had got far ahead of them. so, coming to a spot where there was a little grass, we dismounted to give our beasts a feed, thus putting in practice a maxim which travellers in strange countries learn by daily experience to adopt for themselves and their beasts,--to eat when they can. my pony, being rather sharp in the back, i had over-done him with thick saddle-cloths in my anxiety to preserve him in ridable condition; for though very old he was a rare good one, but viciously inclined, having once before had his paws on my shoulders. as the camels hove in sight, i essayed to mount, but had not got into my seat when, what with the pony's capers and bad saddling, i came to grief, and was left sprawling on my face on the stones, which spoiled my physiognomy and my temper at the same time, and nearly obliterated one optic. it was painful to contemplate my brave steed careering about with my good saddle under his belly, and reins going all to pieces amongst his legs. the vision of a month's riding vanished away in a moment. a ray of hope dawned on me as i saw my favourite settle down in a small enclosure, bearing a poor crop of under-grown millet, but there was no one near to catch him. after a little, the husband-man appeared, and stoutly remonstrated with me for turning my cattle into his field. i was in no mood to tolerate abuse, for my abraded skin was smarting considerably. i offered the aggrieved agriculturist the alternative of catching my pony, or leaving him where he was. the mongols, and also the chinese borderers, are very expert in catching horses--their favourite dodge is to crawl up to his head on all-fours. my friend tried this, but he was unfortunately too fat, and when he got his hand within an inch and a-half of the remnant of my poor bridle, the pony started off and went straight back at full gallop in the direction of chan-kia-kow. my heart died within me at the sight. the camels having now come up, one of the men went in pursuit, and with the assistance of the country people brought back the renegade, with the loss of my bridle and one stirrup--not so bad as i expected. the pass is a narrow gorge between steep hills, with little cultivated corners here and there. a small stream trickles down the side, and the road is strewn with round pebbles, which gives it the appearance of the bed of a river. the ascent is very steady and regular, gaining considerably more than feet in fifteen miles. the road is tolerable all the way, until about the top of the ascent, which is very rough and rocky. rather late in the evening we got to our halting-place well on to the table land, which is at an elevation of feet above the sea. the chinese are the most patient and persevering agriculturists in the world. they have pushed their aggressions through the pass at chan-kia-kow--on the hill-sides, where-ever they can find soil enough to hold together--and into the skirts of the desert itself. they get but a poor return for their labour, however; their crops seem to struggle for bare existence, and the farmers must depend more on their live stock than their crops. in other parts of mongolia the chinese have been more successful in extending their civilising influence into the prairie. in the kingdom of the ouniots, further to the north, huc tells us that since the chinese, following their invariable custom, began to penetrate into the country of the mongols, about the middle of the seventeenth century, the forests have disappeared from the hills, the prairies have been cleared by fire, and the new cultivators have exhausted the fecundity of the soil. "it is probably to _their system of devastation_ that we must attribute the extreme irregularity of the seasons which now desolate this unhappy land." a curse seems to have rested on the industrious invaders. the seasons are out of joint. droughts are frequent, then sand-storms and hurricanes, then torrents of rain which wash away fields and crops together in a general deluge, and the land is thenceforth incapable of being ploughed. famines follow, and the people torment themselves with presentiments of calamity. that all this is due to the chinese agriculturists is hard to comprehend. it is not their practice elsewhere to "exhaust the fecundity of the soil." huc propounds the new and strange doctrine that cultivation of deserts is a system of devastation. the truth seems to be that huc, with the strong partiality he always evinces to the mongols, was over-credulous of their stories. the mongols, very naturally, consider themselves aggrieved by the chinese. the latter first bought the right of cultivating the prairie, and, as their numbers increased, the weaker race necessarily gave way, moving their tents and their sheep further and further into the desert. the poor mongols now see, with feelings of sorrow, the plough desecrating the ground where their fathers fed their flocks; they look with hopeless regret on the past as a kind of golden age, which their fancy dresses in a halo of peace, happiness, and prosperity. the hated kitat at once suggests himself as the cause of these changes, and the mongols delight to feed their hatred out of the copious store of their imagination. a process exactly analogous has been going on in the country of the manchus, where the arable soil has been occupied by chinese colonists, almost to the entire exclusion of the natives. hatred is strongly developed there also; but i can answer for it that there, at least, cultivation has not exhausted the fecundity of the soil, nor devastated the country. the chinese also with whom huc conversed would readily admit the superiority of the past. they have a reverence for antiquity, and whenever they could spare a thought from the stern realities of the present, they would mourn their hard fate, and exalt the glories of the past. the sun had been very hot all day, but when we came to pitch our tent at night we were shivering with cold, and could with difficulty hold the hammer to drive the pins into the ground. it is always chilly at night in mongolia, even in the hot weather, but we were not prepared for such a degree of cold on the th august, in latitude °. all our blankets were brought into requisition, and we passed a comfortable night. next morning the thermometer, which was under a blanket, showed ° fahrenheit. the morning of the th of august was as bright and cheery as the most lively fancy could paint. the air resounded with the notes of hosts of skylarks, which one does not often hear in these far-off regions. the sun warmed up fast, and in a few hours dried up the heavy dew that lay on the grass in the early morning. the pasture was exceedingly rich, and sprinkled with "gowans" and other wild flowers, which imparted a delicious fragrance to the fresh morning air. many herds of cattle and horses were scattered over the plain, the mongol herdsmen incessantly galloping round their flocks to keep them together, their shouts audible from great distances in the still air, and the perpetual movement of vast numbers of parti-coloured beasts gave an animation to the scene which was quite exhilarating to the spirits. a small brook trickled tortuously through the plain, where we managed to kill a few snipe, greatly to the delight of the straggling mongols, who rode up to us from various quarters. the only building in sight was a temple which we had passed in the night, and which was the last brick-and-mortar structure we were to see for many days. we were now fairly among the dwellers in tents, and began to realise what it was to be cut off from civilised life; for, whatever may be the various opinions of chinese civilisation in its higher developments, you can at all events obtain in china every necessary and many luxuries for money. in the "land of grass" we had to depend on our own resources, but with the comfortable assurance that these were amply sufficient for us. our introduction to nomad life was under happy auspices, and we were at the outset favourably impressed with the mongols and their country, an impression which never entirely wore out, even under very adverse circumstances. i never till that morning experienced the consciousness of absolute _freedom_. many mongol visitors rode up to our encampment, bringing plentiful supplies of new milk, cheese, and other preparations from milk very like devonshire cream. about o'clock the camels were got in, and we made a start, halting again at noon near the "yourts" of some lama friends of our camel-drivers. this was a short stage, and we endeavoured to remonstrate with our conductor, but as at that time we could not understand a word of each other's language, the broad saxon merely provoking a volley of guttural mongol, we made no progress towards a mutual understanding. we were again favoured with numerous visitors, and our conductor had evidently serious business to negotiate, which occupied the whole afternoon. it ended in his exchanging his pony for another, and getting a fresh camel. it was close on sunset before the camels were loaded, and a fresh start effected. during our halt we had time to make the acquaintance of our camel-drivers. the chief was a lama named tup-tchun, a good, easy man, with all the native simplicity of his race. he was the responsible man to us, and i believe owned the camels. he had two assistants; the first a clansman of his own, tellig by name, a fine, good-natured, bullet-headed, swarthy-complexioned, indefatigable fellow, the equanimity of whose temper nothing could ever disturb. the lama placed his whole confidence in tellig, and we naturally did the same as we became better acquainted with the excellence of his character. the other had a name i never could pronounce, so i will not attempt to spell it. he had some taint of wickedness in his eye, and showed more craft and cunning than the average mongol. he could likewise speak a few words of chinese, hence we gave him the nickname of _kitat_, the mongol name for chinese, a word abominated by all true mongols. he stoutly rebelled for a long time against his new name, but it greatly amused his companions, and, as he was never called by any other appellative, he was compelled at last to answer to kitat. the order of our march was this. one of the mongols on a camel rode ahead, leading the next camel by a string from his nose. half the caravan followed him in single file, each camel being slightly attached to the preceding by his nose-string. the other driver, also on a camel, brought up the rear-guard in the same way. the lama was more privileged, for he never took any active part in leading the caravan, but rode about on a pony, talking now to tellig, now to the kitat, and now to us, then suddenly breaking out into some of his wild native chants. he had a fine sonorous voice, and his singing was a pleasant relief from the monotony of the way, and when tellig joined in chorus they made the welkin ring. the mongols sing with their natural voice, and have far more music in their souls than the squeaking chinese. the lama indulged himself in a gossip with every traveller he met, and would often be left out of sight, but with his active pony he could easily overtake the slow-moving camels. when he descried a mongol yourt in the distance he seldom missed a chance of riding up to it, to bestow his benediction on the inmates, and drink tea with them. nor was the lama entirely useless on the march, for the rearward camels were frequently getting loose, and dropping into the rear, as tellig and the kitat seldom thought of looking behind them. the moment a camel feels himself at liberty he stops to graze. i have never seen one voluntarily follow his leader. great delay occurred sometimes from this cause, and the lama saved us much time by riding after a stray camel, dexterously catching up the nose-string with his whip-handle, and leading the straggler up to the caravan. the leading-string of the camel is fastened to the gear of his leader in such a loose manner that a very slight resistance is enough to undo it. the reason for this is that if the string were secured firmly, any check in the rear camel, or the leading one advancing from a halt before the rear one was ready, would tear the camel's nose. a nose once broken in this way, it is difficult to find good holding ground for the tweak, and the mongols are therefore very economical of camels' noses. as for ourselves, we each had two ponies to ride, and we varied our manner of travelling by alternately sitting in our carts and riding our ponies. we also walked a good deal with our guns, for the pace of the camels was so slow that we could range at will over the country, and still keep up with the caravan. the camel's pace is slow and sure, the average of a day's march being two miles an hour. the actual pace is of course quicker, but the frequent stoppages to adjust loads, and from camels breaking loose, reduce it to two miles per hour. sitting in the cart is never very agreeable. the track is not cut up with ruts like a road in china, and the jolting is considerably less; but it is difficult to get a comfortable posture without lying down, and sitting in the front of the vehicle you are unpleasantly near the odour that exudes from the pores of the camel's hide, to which it requires a long apprenticeship to get accustomed. it is most uninteresting, besides, to sit for an hour or two contemplating the ungainly form of the ugliest of all created things, and to watch his soft spongy foot spreading itself out on the sand, while you reckon that each of these four feet must move , times before your journey is accomplished. our ponies were tied behind the carts, and all went quietly except my old one "dolonor," who was sagacious enough to break his halter regularly, and follow the caravan in his own way, which was to trot a few hundred yards ahead and apply himself vigorously to the grass until the caravan had passed some distance, when he would trot up and repeat the operation. with all that he fell off in condition more than any of the others. starting at sunset, as i have said, we proceeded all night without stopping. it was a fine moonlight night, but an uncomfortable one for us. not knowing we were to travel all night, we were unprepared for sleeping in our carts, and suffered a good deal from cold and disturbed rest. with every precaution to close them in, the carts are thoroughly well ventilated; but subsequent experience taught us to roll up warmly, for most of our nights in the desert were spent in our carts on the road. at sunrise on the th my thermometer beside my bed stood at °. at o'clock we halted and pitched our tents. our mongols had a tent for themselves, made of thin blue cotton stuff, and black inside with the smoke of years. their contract with us included tent accommodation, as also fuel and water; but we congratulated ourselves daily on being provided with our own commodious and substantial bit of canvas. the mongols make their fire in the tent and lounge round it while the pot is boiling. some of the smoke manages to escape through the opening that answers the purpose of a door, running from the apex of the tent to the ground in the shape of a triangle. for the rest they don't seem to mind it, although it is almost suffocating to those who are unaccustomed to it. i noticed the eyes of the mongols have mostly a bloodshot hard appearance, often showing no white at all, attributable no doubt to the argol smoke in which they pass so much of their time. the tents being pitched, the next operation is to procure a supply of _argols_, or more correctly _ar'ch'l_, which is dried cow or horse dung, and is to be found all over the desert. so long as we were in a populous part of the country, that is, if there were three mongol yourts within as many miles of us, we were saved the trouble of going out to gather them, for our tents were seldom up for many minutes before a woman would appear bearing a large basket of the precious material. this seems to be the ordinary custom of the mongols, and is a part of the genuine hospitality they show to strangers. our halting-places were selected with a view to water. there is no scarcity of water in the desert, but a stranger would be sorely puzzled to find it, for there is nothing to mark the position of the wells. the mongols have an instinctive knowledge of the country, and in order to encamp near good water they make their march an hour or two longer or shorter as the case may be. when the caravan halts, one of the mongols is despatched on a camel with two water-buckets to fetch water from the well, generally some distance from the line of march. the buckets have a head to them with two holes in it stopped with wooden plugs. the water is poured out of the larger hole at the side, while the smaller one in the centre is opened to admit the air, to enable the water to pass out freely. in selecting a halting-place, the mongols generally contrive to combine a good bit of pasture with the vicinity of water, for this is naturally of much importance to them, as the only feeding the animals get is a few hours' grazing during the halt, and that only once in twenty-four hours. before the tent is set up the camels are unloaded and set free to graze, the horses are taken to water, and then hobbled and let loose. the camels are not supposed to want water, and they very rarely get it. their lips and mouth are peculiarly adapted to quick feeding, the lips being long and very pliable, and the incisor teeth projecting outwards. they gather up a good mouthful of grass in a very short time, even where it is exceedingly scant, and as their food requires little or no mastication, they are enabled to take in a full daily supply of food in a few hours. so far, mongolia is a succession of plains and gentle undulations, much resembling the long swell of the ocean, and here and there the country is a little rough and hilly. the undulations stretch across our track from east to west. the whole face of the country looks like the sea. there is not a tree or any object to break the monotony of the vast expanse, but occasionally the yourt or tent of a mongol family. the sunrise and sunset encourage the illusion, and the camel has been aptly called the ship of the desert. the sun was hot during the day, but the thermometer in the shade only showed ° at noon. yesterday it was °. after dinner we went out with our guns and bagged a few small birds of the curlew kind. we also came across a flock of wild geese, but, as usual, they were very wild. we had a chase after a herd of animals which have been called wild goats. the chinese call them _whang-yang_, or yellow sheep: other tribes call them _dzeren_. the mongols give them a name of their own, _gurush_, and do not associate them with either sheep or goats. they are really a kind of antelope (_procapra gutturosa_), the size of a fallow deer, and of a yellowish brown colour, approaching to white about the legs. they are exceedingly swift and very shy, and as the country is so flat it is almost impossible to get within shot of them. they are usually found in large herds of several hundreds. we subsequently tried to stalk them on horseback, and did get some long random shots at them with a rifle, but to manage this properly there ought to be three or four people well mounted and with plenty of time. our poor tired ponies were not fit for such work, and we never stopped the caravan for the sake of sport. some of the mongols do hunt the gurush, both on horseback and on foot. i never witnessed any successes, but they must shoot them sometimes, to pay for their powder and shot. they use a small-bored rifle, which has a rest placed about six inches from the muzzle, by which means they can lie on their face and take their aim, the muzzle being raised well clear of the ground by means of the rest. we had a long halt to-day, partly in consequence of a crack being discovered in one of the camels' feet. this is an infirmity they are subject to, and if sand and grit were allowed to get in, the animal would become lame and useless. the remedy, which is always at hand, is to sew a square patch of stout leather over the part affected, which they do in the roughest cobbler fashion. with a flat needle slightly curved they pierce the horny part of the sole, and fasten the patch by means of leather thongs at each corner. this is only a temporary measure, and when a camel is taken that way, he must soon be turned out to grass. the mongols have no trouble in getting at a camel's feet. they first make him squat down, and then two of them go at him with a sudden push and roll him over on his broadside, one of them keeping his head down while the other operates on the foot. the animal screams a good deal while he is being turned over, but once down he resigns himself helplessly to his fate. we did not get off till five o'clock in the afternoon. the night was cloudy and no dew fell, and consequently it was not nearly so cold as the night before. the difference in temperature between a cloudy and a clear night is very marked in mongolia. we were now leaving the good pastures and the numerous herds of cattle behind, and on the morning of the th august we found ourselves getting into a very desert country with only a little scrub grass, of which our poor ponies found it hard work to make a meal. no horses or cattle were seen in this part, and the country seemed only capable of supporting sheep and camels. about eleven o'clock we halted, and encamped on almost bare sand. not a single "yourt" was in sight, and, for the first time, we had no visitors. this must have been a relief to our mongols, for they were compelled by custom and their natural hospitality to receive and be civil to all comers, and it was not easy for them to snatch even an hour's sleep. this must have been a great privation, for their mode of travelling all night precluded their getting any sleep at all, except on the backs of their camels while on the march, and in their tent during the six hours' halt in the day; and as that was broken up by cooking and eating, pitching and striking tents, loading and unloading camels, and other necessary matters, and the frequent and protracted visits from neighbouring yourts, or travellers on the road, our poor tartars had often to go for days together with hardly any sleep at all. but they never complained, and certainly were never betrayed into any rudeness to their inconsiderate countrymen. we started again at . in the afternoon, and continued through gentle undulations, proceeding, as before, all through the night. before morning we passed some rocky places over low hills, which sadly disturbed our sleep in the carts--in fact, our usual night's rest, while on the move, was far from being uninterrupted or comfortable, and it was only our fatigue and exposure to the air all day that enabled us to sleep at all under such circumstances. the rough hilly part was again succeeded by low undulations continually unfolding before us, and which became painfully monotonous to the eye. distances are altogether deceptive, partly owing to the smooth, unbroken surface of the country, and partly to the mirage which is always dancing on the horizon, making small objects look large, and sometimes lifting them up into the air and giving them a variety of fantastic shapes. about o'clock on the th of august we halted, and went through our usual process of cooking and eating. we began to find that one meal a day did not suit our habits, and we soon learned to keep out a certain quantity of biscuit and cold meat when we had it, so that we could make a breakfast or a supper without stopping to unload the camels. to these materials we added a handful of tea or some chocolate-paste, and in the morning rode up on our ponies to any yourt we happened to see that was smoking, and there made our breakfast. in the evening we often managed to do the same, but it frequently happened that we had no opportunity of doing this. but i have not explained what a "yourt" is. it is simply the habitation of a mongol family--a tent, but of a more permanent construction than the ordinary travelling tent. it consists of a frame of light trellis work covered with thick felt, is circular in form, with a conical shaped roof, but nearly flat. a hole in the apex of the roof lets out the smoke from the argol fire which burns all day in the middle of the tent. at night, when the fire is out, and before the inmates retire to rest, the hole in the roof is covered up. i did not measure the upright part of the wall of the tent, but it is under five feet, and you cannot enter without stooping. the tent is about fifteen feet in diameter. a piece of felt hanging from the top forms a door. the mongols sleep on mats laid on the ground, and pack very close. they have no bedding, but sleep generally in their clothes, merely loosing their girdles. in addition to the family, i have frequently observed a number of young kids brought into the tent for shelter on cold nights. when the owner decides on moving to better pastures, his yourt is packed up in a few hours and laid on the back of a camel, or, failing that, two oxen answer the purpose. although yourt is the name always used by foreigners, i never heard it from a mongol. they call it "gi-rai," as distinguished from a travelling tent, which they call "mai-chung." such are the dwellings of the mongols, and so much are they attached to them, that even where they live in settled communities, as in urga, where they have every facility for building wooden houses, they still stick to their yourts, merely enclosing them with a rough wooden paling. in the whole journey i did not meet with a single instance of a mongol living in a house, or in anything else than a yourt or girai. the mongols are very superstitious, and certain rules of etiquette have to be observed in riding up to and entering a yourt. one of these is that all whips must be left outside the door, for to enter a yourt with a whip in the hand would be very disrespectful to the residents. huc explains this almost in the words--"am i a dog that you should cross my threshold with whips to chastise me?" there is a right and a wrong way of approaching a yourt also. outside the door there are generally ropes lying on the ground, held down by stakes for the purpose of tying up their animals when they want to keep them together. there is a way of getting over or round these ropes that i never learned, but, on one occasion, the ignorant breach of the rule on our part excluded us from the hospitality of the family. the head of the house was outside his yourt when we rode up; we saluted him with the customary _mendo! mendo!_ &c.; but the only response we got was a volley of quiet abuse, in which our salutation was frequently, repeated in ironical tones, as much as to say, "mendo! mendo! you come to my tent with sugared words on your lips, and disregard the rules of civility, which a child would be ashamed of doing. mendo! mendo! if you do not know how to conduct yourselves like gentlemen, you had better go about your business." so we turned and went away, not in a rage, for we knew we had committed some grave offence against propriety. the furniture of a mongol yourt is very simple. a built-up fireplace in the middle of the floor is the only fixture. a large flat iron pan for cooking, or, if the parties are luxurious, they may possess two such utensils, and sport two fireplaces, by which means they can boil their mutton and water for their tea at the same time. a basin to hold milk, and a good large jug with a spout for the same purpose, and for the convenience of boiling it at the fire while the big pan is on, comprise all their kitchen and table service. each person carries his own wooden _ei-iga_, or cup, in his bosom, and, so armed, is ready to partake of whatever is going anywhere; and his small pocket-knife, by which he can cut up his quota of mutton. a wooden box serves as a wardrobe for the whole family. no tables or chairs are necessary, and i found no trace of a toilet service. these, with a few mats on the ground for squatting on by day, and sleeping on by night, comprise all the actual furniture of a yourt. to-day, th august, we killed some sand-grouse. they were of the same species as those found about peking and tientsin (the _pallas_ sand-grouse), but were in much finer condition. they were fat, and of such excellent flavour that they would be considered a delicacy anywhere. all their crops which we dissected were full of small black beetles, and the same was the case with the curlew we killed. we fell in with a herd of gurush, and had some long shots; but we were never fortunate enough to bag any of these animals. in leaving the caravan there is always more or less danger of getting lost. it has happened more than once to travellers. but still there is a beaten track all the way through the desert, which is distinctly marked in the grassy parts, and even in the sand it is traceable. in winter it may be obliterated, but still i think, with ordinary care, one ought not to lose himself in the desert. at p.m. we had returned to our caravan and again took the road. it came on very windy at night, with some rain, and as the winds were always from the north, and consequently in our teeth, we were miserably cold and uncomfortable in the carts, so much so that we ardently hoped that the mongols, who were more exposed than we, would propose a halt. we could not do so ourselves, for that would have given the mongols an excuse for all manner of delays in our journey, but we would have been glad to consent had we been asked. there was nothing for it, however, but to bear our burden patiently. the few bottles of water and milk we invariably carried with us in the carts were exhausted, and being much in want of something, we knew not what, we ordered the mongols to stop at the first yourt they saw. this they did at o'clock, and having turned out an old woman we asked for water. they had none of that precious beverage (and if they had it might have been bad), but we got some boiled milk. i did not really want anything, but during the time the mongols were negotiating with the lady, our carts were turned with the backs to the wind, and it seemed that i had never known what enjoyment was till then. it lasted but a quarter of an hour. the inexorable camels turned their noses to the wind again, and i spent the night in manipulating blankets and contorting limbs, but all to no purpose, for the merciless gale swept under and over and through me. in the morning as soon as daylight came we got out of our cold quarters and on to our ponies, stopped at a yourt where we indulged in a cup of hot chocolate, and warmed ourselves at the hospitable fire. in this yourt we found a record of the party who had preceded us on the journey, dated th june. our poor mongols and their camels were fatigued, and we did not object to an early halt on the st august. we camped in a very desert place, scarcely any grass at all; shot grouse for breakfast, and tried to believe that we were comfortable. but we were not, for if we had no other annoyance, the impossibility of keeping the blowing sand out of our food was an evil hard to bear patiently. everything, even the inside of our boxes, was filled with sand. every means was tried in vain to prevent it from blowing under our tent. we walked about most of the day and tried to shoot, but the guns were nearly blown out of our hands, and that resource for the destitute had to be abandoned in despair. about in the afternoon we started again, wind still blowing a gale. the road became very rough, which was an additional reason for a restless night. we had many stoppages besides, and much shouting all through the night, which seriously disturbed our fitful naps, and in the morning it was painfully evident that our poor camels were breaking down. one of them had several times refused to go on, and had eventually lain down with his load, and resisted all persuasion to rise. he had to be unloaded and the extra weight distributed among the stronger ones, at the risk of breaking them down also. the truth is the camels were not in condition when we started. we were too early for them. the practice of the mongols is to work their camels hard from the autumn to the spring. before the summer comes everything is taken out of them; their humps get empty and lie flat on their backs; their feet get out of order, and they have mostly bad sore backs. they are then taken off the road and turned out to grass. about this time they shed their long hair and become naked, and all through the hot weather the mongol camel is the most miserable object that can be imagined. in the early autumn they have recruited their strength, their humps are firm and stand erect, their backs are healed, and they begin the campaign fresh and strong. our progress during the night was very slow, and towards morning the road became sandy--in some places very heavy. the cart-camels now suffered most, sweating and struggling with their work in a way that was far from reassuring to us who had the greater part of the journey still before us. the whitened bones of camels are scattered all over the desert, but in this place they were more numerous than ever. i believe the camels always die on the road. they are worked till they drop, and when one of a caravan fairly breaks down, there is no alternative but to leave it to die on the sand. yourts are few and far between, and few cattle are to be seen; there is barely grass enough to support sheep and camels. we pushed on till o'clock, and encamped at mingan, where there were no yourts actually in sight, but several within a few miles. there was really little or nothing to eat, and our trusty steeds were palpably suffering from their long stages and short commons. serious misgivings crossed our minds as to the probability of our ponies carrying us much further, and we were concerned for them as well as for ourselves, for they had done our work well so far, and we felt kindly to them as the patient companions of our journey. chapter vii. mongolia--_continued_. our lama received sundry visitors at mingan, and had evidently some business to transact with them, for we soon saw him in earnest converse with some of the strangers in his tent, passing their hands into each others' sleeves as if bargaining with the fingers. this resulted in the sale of one of our camels--the one that had broken down. our conductor had more matters to settle than that, however, but he was prevented by circumstances beyond his control. the fact is that on such occasions the mongols consider it indispensable to imbibe freely of spirits, and our lama had to stand a bottle of _samshu_, a very ardent spirit made from rice. the mongols drink liberally when they have a chance, and the mingan lama was no exception to the rule, for in a short time he got so drunk as to become unmanageable. he began by breaking the tent-poles, no slight calamity in a country without wood; he soon became helpless, and lay down on his back, refusing absolutely to move. all idea of further business was abandoned, and the drunken mongol's friends were ashamed, not so much at the exhibition he was making, but at the mischief he had perpetrated. he could hardly lie on his back, but they deemed that no valid objection to his riding on horseback. they therefore caught his pony, by main force lifted him on, and put the reins in his hands. the pony started off across the plain in the direction of his home, quietly enough at first; but the drunken rider began to swing about and stretch out his right hand, as the mongols do when they want to excite their ponies to unusual exertion. the pony went off at full gallop, throwing up clouds of sand behind him as he went; the rider's motions became more and more centrifugal until at last he rolled over and sprawled full length on the sand, apparently with no intention of moving. his friends rode after his pony, caught it, and hobbled it beside its master, and as evening was drawing on they left them both to their fate. another of the party, not so far gone, was merrily drunk. he tried to work up a dispute with our mongols, and promised us some amusement, but he also was got on his pony by the persuasion of his son, who was with him. the boy was ashamed of his papa, and did his best to take him off the field. they made several false starts together, but the old fellow grew warmer and more excited, again and again turning his horse's head and returning to our tent to "have it out." at last the young one prevailed, and they rode off together and disappeared in the distance. we were now left alone, at sunset, and our poor lama was left lamenting on his bad day's work, his waste of much good liquor to no purpose, and his broken tent-poles. the mongols are a pitiable set on foot, with their loose clumsy leather boots, but they are at home on horseback. from their earliest years they may be said to live on horseback, and the women are almost as expert as the men, mounting any animal that comes handiest, whether horse, cow, or camel, with or without saddle. huc says he never saw a mongol unhorsed; but probably he never saw a dead-drunk lama forcibly put on a fiery steed. our lama received sycee silver for the camel he sold. silver is not much in use among the mongols, their only real currency being very coarse brick tea. but it is a mistake to suppose, as has been stated, that they are ignorant of the value of money. we got away about in the evening. the wind had fortunately lulled, and we passed a pretty comfortable night on the road, which was alternately hard and sandy. my "dolonor" pony, that had been voluntarily following the caravan, began to find the pastures getting too poor even for him, who had the privilege of grazing day and night. the last two days he remained faithful, but on the morning of the nd september, finding matters getting from bad to worse, he pricked up his ears, about ship, and galloped straight back by the way we had come. this was not much to be surprised at, all things considered, and i could not help commending him for his sagacity. the "kitat" was despatched on his camel in quest of the fugitive before i was awake. had i been consulted i certainly should not have consented to such a wild-goose chase, but the mongols thought themselves bound in honour not to lose anything, although it was not in the contract that they were to look after ponies on the journey. [illustration: halt in the desert of gobi. (page .)] it was a very dry morning, but we got water for ourselves and our horses passing borolji. the well there was very deep, and we were indebted to the friendly aid of some mongols, who happened to have driven their cattle in to water, for obtaining a supply for our beasts. the head shepherd had brought with him a small bucket made of sheepskin, attached to the end of a long pole to enable him to reach the water. his own beasts were very thirsty and impatient to drink; the horses especially crowded eagerly round the well, neighing, biting, and kicking each other in their efforts to gain the best places. nevertheless, the polite mongol drew water for us first, and allowed us to continue our march. we kept on till . , when we pitched our tents on the steppe, called "gunshandak." no grass at all grows here, but the sand is slightly shaded with green by a small wild leek, that grows in form much like the mongolian grass. we had frequently observed this plant already sprinkled amongst the grass, but in gunshandak it flourishes to the exclusion of everything else. the sheep and camels thrive on it. our ponies also ate it freely, perhaps because they could get nothing else, and when our cattle were brought in from feeding they had a strong smell of onions about them. the kitat not having come up with my pony, we did not hurry away, and our mongols availed themselves of the delay to buy and kill a goat from a neighbouring flock. we also bought a sheep for two rubles, or about six shillings. the seller, on being asked to kill it, told us we might do it ourselves. this was not to be thought of, and our own mongols were too much occupied with their goat. we had, therefore, to resort to a little craft, for the sheep must certainly be put to death before we could eat it. addressing the man, we said, how can we lamas kill an animal? this was sufficient. "oh, you are lamas!" and he proceeded at once to business. the dexterity with which these mongols kill and cut up a sheep is truly marvellous. they kill with a small knife which they insert into the belly, just below the breast-bone. death is almost instantaneous. the object of this mode of slaughter is to save the blood inside the animal. skinning is an easy process and soon done. the sheep is laid on his back on the sand, the skin is spread out on either side, a strip down the back being left attached while the cutting up is going on. the skin thus serves as a table, and so well does it answer the purpose that they will cut up a sheep into small pieces, and put everything, including lights and liver, on the skin, without ever touching the sand. the mongols have a perfect practical knowledge of the anatomy of the sheep, and sever every joint with perfect ease, with only a small pocket-knife, no other instrument being used in any part of the process. the rapidity with which the whole thing is done, is astonishing. our butcher was unluckily called away during the operation to retrieve a young camel that had been crying for its dam all the morning, and had now broken its tether, so that i could not time him accurately. i shall not state the number of minutes usually occupied from the time a sheep is purchased till the mutton is ready for the pot, for i could hardly expect to be believed. on removing the intestines, &c., the blood is found all together in a pool. it is then carefully baled out and put into the cooking pan, or _taga_, for nothing is thrown away here. we gave ours to the butcher, as also the skin and the whole of the inside, except liver and kidneys. the wandering mongols scent a sheep-killing like vultures, and there are never wanting some old women to lend a hand in making black-puddings, and such like, who are rewarded for their trouble by a share of the feast; for among the mongols the first instalment of their sheep is eaten in less than half an hour from the time it is killed. the mongol sheep are generally in good condition, but there is no fat about them at all, except in the tail, which is a heavy lump of pure suet, said to weigh sometimes ten pounds. the condition of the animal is judged by the weight of the tail. the mongols use but little water in cleaning their mutton. the ubiquitous old woman, who instals herself as pudding-maker, handles the intestines in a delicate and artistic manner. she first of all turns them all inside out, and then coils them up into hard, sausage-shaped knots, without stuffing, which take up very little space in the pot. these and all the other loose things are first put into the pot, with the addition of as much of the meat as it will hold. the pot is filled so full that the water does not cover the meat, but that is of no consequence to the mongols. it is soon cooked, and quickly eaten. when sufficiently boiled, one of the company adroitly snatches the meat, piece by piece, from the boiling cauldron, with his fingers, and distributes it in fair proportions to the anxious expectants seated round. they never burn their fingers by this snap-dragon process. their manner of eating mutton is most primitive, and i will also say disgusting. each person gets a large lump or two, either in his lap, or on the mat on which he sits. he then takes a piece in his left hand as big as he can grasp; and, with the inevitable small knife in his right, he cuts off nuggets of mutton, using his thumb as a block, in the manner of cutting cavendish tobacco. they literally bolt their mutton, and use no salt, bread, or sauce of any kind in eating it. when they have got all the meat off, they pare and scrape the bones very carefully, and when that is done, they break the bones up, and eat the marrow. nothing is thrown away, except part of the eye, and the trotters. the tail is considered a delicacy, and is reserved for the head lama, or the honoured guest, who generously shares it with the others. i need only say that this mass of rich suet is eaten as i have described above. when the solid part of the entertainment has been despatched, they put up their knives after wiping them on their clothes, and then proceed to drink the broth in their wooden cups. if they have any millet, they like to throw a little into the broth as they drink it. the millet gets softened a little as the cup is rapidly replenished, but no further cooking is necessary. when the broth is finished, they put clean water into the taga with a handful or two of brick tea, and go to sleep while it is boiling. the tea so made has of course a greasy appearance, and this practice of cooking everything in the same pot has probably given rise to the belief that they boil mutton and tea together, eating the leaves of the tea with the mutton. there may be tartar tribes who do this, but the khalkas mongols certainly do not. the tea leaves, or rather stalks,--for their bricks are made up of tea dust and timber,--are always thrown away. it is necessary to boil the tea to get anything out of it at all, and it is of course bitter and ill flavoured. i have drunk it when hard up; and when it is well diluted with milk it is not unpalatable, when you can get nothing else. the mongol tastes no doubt seem to us very unrefined, but they are natural. the great esteem in which they hold the fat as compared with the lean of mutton, is a plain expression of the direction in which their ordinary regimen is defective. it is well known that fat and farinaceous foods ultimately fulfil the same purposes in the human economy; they mutually compensate, and one or other is absolutely necessary. we thus find fat and oils eagerly sought after, wherever, as among the mongols and esquimaux, the cultivation of cereals is forbidden by soil and climate. the value of a scale of diet does not, as might at first sight be supposed, consist in the prominence of any one article, but depends on the different ingredients which are necessary to sustain health, being duly proportioned; and wherever the food of a people is necessarily composed of one substance almost exclusively, the natural appetite will always mark out as delicacies those which are deficient. it is to this want of due proportion in the elements of diet that we must attribute the comparative muscular weakness of the mongols, in spite of the abundant supply of mutton and the bracing air of the desert. the coolies of china and japan greatly excel them in feats of strength, and in power of endurance, because the rice on which they feed contains a more varied proportion of the elements that nourish life, the poor quality of the fare being compensated by the incredible quantities which they consume. our mongols having slept off their first meal and drunk their tea, put the pot on the fire again, and cooked the remainder of the goat, on which they had another heavy blow-out late in the afternoon. the rapacity and capacity of a mongol stomach is like that of a wild beast. they are brought up to eat when they can, and fast when they must, and their digestion is never deranged by either of these conditions. they very much resemble their own camels in those useful qualities so necessary to the inhabitants of a desert. our mongols had really eaten nothing since leaving chan-kia-kow. they had fasted for seven days at least, and gone almost entirely without sleep all that time, and yet suffered nothing from the fatigue they must have endured. they had certainly some millet seed and some chinese dough, a little of which they put into their tea as they drank it, but of actual food they had none. they had now laid in a supply which would last them another week. they seldom carry meat with them, finding it more convenient to take it in their stomachs. lest it be thought that we also adopted the mongol way of living, i must explain that we had a very complete set of cooking utensils, plates, knives and forks, and every other accessory to civilised feeding. we certainly had to a great extent to educate ourselves to live on one meal a day, but that was but a distant approach to the mongol habit of eating but once a week. we made a long day of it on the steppe gunshandak, hoping every hour that the kitat would return. the country was so desert that there was no population, and only two yourts were near us. our encampment was some distance off the track, and we had consequently no visits from travellers, so we spent a very quiet day. in the afternoon the camels were brought in, and tellig and the lama examined them all narrowly. their condition was really becoming serious, for not only were they tired and worn out, but their backs were getting very bad. they are very subject to this. nearly all of them had large deep holes in their backs, which penetrated almost through the flesh between the ribs. maggots breed very fast in these wounds, and every few days the mongols probe deep into the wound with a bit of stick, and scoop the vermin out. the animals complain a little during this operation, but on the whole they bear their ills with marvellous patience. while the camels are grazing, the crows sit on their backs and feed on the worms. it did seem cruel to put heavy loads on such suffering creatures, but what else could be done? our ponies were falling off fast from want of food and rest. it was severe on them to go eighteen hours without eating. but they were, comparatively speaking, a luxury, and could be dispensed with. the camels were essential, and could not be replaced in the desert. the lama betrayed considerable anxiety for his camels, and began to talk of getting fresh ones at a place called _tsagan-tuguruk_, where there is a _sumé_ or temple. we gathered from him that his family lived there, and that he could easily exchange his camels for fresh ones, if only he could reach that rendezvous. but tsagan-tuguruk was four days' journey from us, and our used-up cattle did not look as if they could hold out so long. but we live in hope, for it is foolish to anticipate misfortunes. we have hitherto met no caravans since leaving china, excepting long trains of ox-carts carrying timber from urga. the day wore on and no kitat appeared. the mongols strained their eyes to descry some sign on the horizon, then looked anxiously at the sun fast sinking in the west, and made up their minds to remain in the steppe all night. the mongols have no means of judging of time except by guessing from the height of the sun or moon. i speak only of my own experience, for huc says they can tell the time of day by looking at a cat's eyes. for my part i did not see a cat in the whole of mongolia. dogs they have in plenty. they are of the same breed as the common dog of china, but rather larger and with thicker coats. they are useful to the shepherds and are good watch dogs, not so thoroughly domestic as their chinese congeners, but will run after one a great distance from their yourt barking ferociously. they are great curs, however, and their bark is worse than their bite. it is a singular thing that the mongols do not feed their dogs; nor do the chinese, as a rule. they are supposed to forage for themselves, and in mongolia they must be put to great straits occasionally. the day had been very warm, and, the air being still, in the evening we slept in the carts. it was always warmer and more comfortable to sleep in the tent, but our bedding had to be moved, and the oftener that was done the more sand got into our blankets. the nights in mongolia were beautiful, sky very clear, and stars bright. the "harvest moon," that had been such a boon to us in our night travelling, now rose late. in a few days it would be over, and we should have dark nights to travel in. after a luxurious night's rest, the first we had had for a week, we awoke to see the sun rise on the steppe, and almost fancied ourselves at sea. so indeed we were in a figurative sense, for there was still no appearance of the missing mongol. we were now in the humour to take things patiently; and the sheep we had killed yesterday enabled us to prepare a breakfast that for a desert might fairly be called sumptuous. the day was passed in idleness, for not a feather of a bird was to be seen to afford an excuse for taking our guns out. visits were paid and received between us and the mongols who lived in the two yourts near us, and our lama fraternised with them, and got the women to bring us argols and water. the women, as a rule, keep the house and do the cooking and darning, only going out after the flocks when the men are out of the way. the lamas carry their principle of not killing animals to an extremity that is sorely inconvenient to themselves. they are not exempt from parasitical connections; in fact, the person of a lama, considered as a microcosm, is remarkably well inhabited. he cannot, with his own hand, "procure the transmigration" of any animal, in case it should contain the soul of his grandfather, or some past or future bhudda; but when the population presses on the means of subsistence, something must be done. in this juncture the services of some benevolent female are called in, the lama strips to the waist, and commits his person and his garment to her delicate and practised manipulation. we determined to start at sunset, kitat or no kitat, and with one long-lingering look over the vast plain we had crossed, at sunset we did start. we soon met a caravan of sixty camels, which was refreshing to our eyes as evidence of the travelling season having fairly commenced, affording us a better hope of finding fresh camels. we had again to encounter rough stony roads during the night; in fact, we seemed just to come to the bad roads as we were going to sleep. how was it that we did not sometimes by accident stumble on a bit of soft ground at night-time? the roads were perhaps not so bad as our nocturnal imagination, stimulated by want of proper rest, painted them. but whether or no, we had nothing to complain of on this occasion, having enjoyed a sound unbroken sleep the previous night; and surely one good night out of two is enough for any reasonable being. in the morning, passing over some rather steeper undulations than usual, and in a very desert country, we came across a herd of gurush. some ineffectual shots were fired as usual. it was tantalising in the extreme not to be able to bag one of these fine animals when met with in such numbers as would have delighted the heart of gordon cumming. about two o'clock we halted at kutul-usu, where we were agreeably surprised to find no less than six yourts near our encampment, which was remarkable considering the scarcity of grass. there is no grass at all, in fact, and our beasts return from their grazing redolent of onions. a large ox-cart caravan was also encamped at this place. our lama had long and earnest conversations with the mongols of kutul-usu, and there was much going to and fro between our tents and the yourts. there was something in the wind--we could not divine what--until the lama again broached the subject of _tsagan-tuguruk_, the place where he expected new camels. his proposal was that he should ride ahead on a pony, and get the camels ready by the time the caravan came up. there were grave objections to this course, for we were already short-handed from the absence of the kitat, and were we to be left with only one camel-driver, we should never be able to keep the caravan together. the lama was importunate, and at last we consented to his plan on condition: st, that he should find a substitute to assist tellig with the caravan; and nd, that he should provide us with fresh ponies at tsagan-tuguruk. the substitute was soon found in an active-looking, wiry old man with very bad eyes. the sun had set some time before the discussions and preparations were concluded, and we were consequently compelled to remain till the moon rose, which was not before eleven o'clock--half the night gone and no progress made. we had a rough night as usual, but we are getting into a more broken country. in the morning we passed one of the numerous salt plains that are spread over the great desert. sometimes there is water in them and sometimes not. this one was dry, but had a white scurf of salt on the ground. a dark-green plant grows in tufts over these plains, and is eaten by the animals in the absence of grass; indeed, i am not sure whether the camels don't prefer it. it was a hot thirsty day, and we were at great trouble to find a yourt in which to rest and make chocolate in the morning. we did discover one eventually after riding many miles, and there we fell in with a sporting lama with two good-looking ponies, riding one and leading the other. this seemed a good opportunity for business, and my companion soon concluded an exchange operation, giving a pony with an incipient sore back and two dollars to boot, for a good old sound one of the lama's. we were in some doubt about finding our caravan, having let it get a long way out of sight; but the wandering lama, having a direct interest in discovering our party to get his two dollars, soon scented them out by the same kind of instinct that directs a bee to his distant hive. we took him some miles back out of his way, but these people seem to care little in which direction they go, or how much time they may lose in going from one place to another. the facility with which our mongol friends found their way in the open desert had often excited our admiration. at the end of a night's march, although interrupted by numerous accidental stoppages, they were never at a loss to know where they were. they needed no land-mark to guide them, and in pitching their tent near a well they never made a mistake as to its position. the explanation seems to be that certain instincts are developed in proportion to the want of artificial aids. thus chinese sailors cruise about their dangerous coast by a kind of rule of thumb, and are able to judge of their position in darkness and fog where scientific navigators would be at fault. in australia also it is found that the best bush-ranger is generally the most ignorant man of the party. the effect of education being to cause men to trust more and more to acquired knowledge, the faculty of perception, which is possessed in a high degree by the lower animals, becomes weakened for want of exercise. instinct and education mutually compensate each other; and the lower we descend in the scale of humanity,--the nearer man approaches to the condition of the inferior animals,--the more does his mere instinct predominate over his higher mental faculties. the senses are very acute in primitive peoples, because of the constant exercise they get, or rather because of the necessity which compels them to be guided by the senses in their daily lives. for to hear or see abstractedly, or for pleasure or instruction, is a different thing from using these senses with the conviction that the supply of food perhaps depends on the accuracy of their indications. as we approached our halting-place, _ulan-khada_, we witnessed a remarkable phenomenon, which was a few dwarf trees, scorched and scraggy, but still alive, growing in a sheltered nook in a pass over some rocky hills. a little rill filters through the stone and sand, and fresh soft grass is found in modest quantity beside the water. ulan-khada is in a hollow surrounded by high ground, and three yourts were seen from our camp. the wild leek still prevails. the following day we stopped at ude, and early on the morning of the th of september, to our great joy, we reached the land of promise,--the well-watered, grassy plain of tsagan-tuguruk. there was something cheering in the very name, associated as it had been in our minds with the hoped-for end of our troubles and uncertainties. vast flocks and herds were seen in all directions, and yourts in good number, though at great distances from each other. our lama, tup-chun, was not here, but at his family yourt, said to be six miles off. it was clear we must make a day of it, at least, at tsagan-tuguruk, and we at once proceeded to make acquaintance with the natives of the nearest yourts, who came to visit us. the next move was to buy a sheep, for we had been out of mutton for some days, the hot sun preventing our keeping it long. a mongol jumped on his pony, and galloped off to his flock, caught a big, fat sheep, swung it across the pommel of his saddle, and rode back with it to our tent. that was soon done, but now came the lama question again. were we lamas, or chara-chun? now, _chara-chun_ means, literally, "black man," and is the name applied to all mongols who are not lamas. to one or other of the two classes we must belong. but we certainly were not black men, that was clear; and if not black men, we were necessarily lamas. the mongols worked out the conclusion satisfactorily in their own minds, and lent cheerful aid in killing and dressing our mutton, for that was the great practical issue of the question. we had heard much from tellig and others of the sume, or temple of tuguruk, and we took a few mongols with us and started off to visit it. it is a neat little house built of stone, but the smallest place of worship perhaps in the world, smaller even than some missionary chapels i have seen. a priest came out of a neighbouring yourt, and opened the door for us. the interior was covered all over with dust, but we were already so dusty that we did not scruple to sit down. half the space was occupied by the materials for making yourts, apparently new; and no doubt left by some wandering mongol for safe custody. a second priest soon joined us, and the two together took down two old brass trumpets, like the chinese bagpipes, to give us some music. these instruments were so dusty inside and out, and their joints so loose, that no sound of any kind could be produced from them. the priests puffed and blew as if they would have burst their boilers, but the rusty old brass would yield no sound. among our new acquaintances was a youth of fifteen, called _haltsundoriki_, the most active and intelligent of the mongols we had met with. he was much interested in us and our belongings, and during our few days' stay at this place, he came regularly every morning, and stayed with us till nightfall. he was a most willing servant to us, collecting argols, lighting our fire, washing our dishes, taking our ponies to water, and making himself universally useful. as our visitors increased in numbers, they crowded our tent inconveniently, especially at meal-times, for they had a nasty habit of fingering everything they saw. _haltsundoriki_ was therefore installed as master of the ceremonies, and vigorously did he exercise his authority over young and old. it was quite understood that he might bore us as much as he liked himself, but he was not to permit any one else to do it. he used the utmost freedom with all his countrymen who came in his way, riding their horses or camels without asking leave, and levying contributions on all and sundry in the shape of tobacco, cheese, or anything they might happen to possess. he furnished us with amusement by chaffing and playing practical jokes on his friends, without regard to age or sex. his wit was in a great measure lost on us, but we made great progress in the mongol language under his tuition. although not a lama, he was educated, and could read and write both mongol and tangut. he was probably the son of some small chieftain who lived in the neighbourhood, and had had an opportunity of seeing better society than the cowherds. on intimating that we were prepared to do a little horse-dealing, we at once set in motion several mongols on their ponies. armed with a long light pole, with a large loop at the end of it, they ride at the drove, and singling out the one they want, they generally manage to throw the loop over his head without much difficulty. an old hand, that has been hunted for a good many years, will sometimes lead them a chase of an hour or two; for though the pony that is ridden is always the fleetest, the hunted one doubles and dodges his pursuer in every possible way. my chan-kia-kow pony was so done up as to be useless, and i exchanged him for a big, strong beast, with doubtful feet, but the most likely i could find. we were much pestered for biscuit, liquor, and empty bottles. it was useless to tell our persecutors that we were on a long journey, and required all our supplies. they have no consideration for travellers, and would eat you up to the last morsel of food you possessed. we found it a good plan to give them porter when they asked for drink. the wry faces it produced were most comical, and they never asked for more. as for the empty bottles, we reserved them to requite any little services that were performed for us, and to pay for milk. one old hag, a she-lama, came begging for drink, and would not be denied. her arguments were after this sort:--"you are a lama, and i am a lama, and we are brethren, and our hearts are in unison; therefore it is right that you should give me this bottle of wine." the only reply to such an appeal would be:--"true, i am a lama, and you are a lama, &c., but as the bottle is in my possession, it is right it should remain so." the old woman would still go rummaging about the tent, and it would have been rude to turn her out _vi et armis_. at length she came across a bottle uncorked, and pouring a little of its contents into the palm of her hand, she licked it up with her tongue. the effect was remarkable, her features were screwed up in hideous contortions, she went out of the tent spitting, and did not ask for any more drink. the bottle proved to contain spirits of wine which we used for boiling coffee. the first theft we were conscious of was perpetrated during our stay at tsagan-tuguruk. hitherto we had relied implicitly on the honesty of the mongols, leaving all our small things lying about at the mercy of our numerous visitors. but now a few nick-nacks that our lama had asked me to take charge of for him, were stolen out of my cart during the night. we were very angry at this, and proclaimed aloud that we would allow no mongol to come near our tent till the thief was discovered, and the property restored. it was impossible, however, to stem the tide; and it seemed hard, moreover, to punish the whole tribe for the misdeed of one who might have no connection with the neighbourhood. we deemed it quite fair, however, to stop their biscuit and brandy. on the return of the lama, we reported the theft, but he received the news with perfect equanimity. in the evening he got two other lamas to perform the prescribed incantation for the purpose of discovering the thief. they performed their task in a mongol yourt with bell, book, and candle (literally, as regards the bell and the book), reciting many yards of lama prayers, while they told their beads. our lama had asked us for some wine for the ceremony. this was poured into three small brass cups which stood on the table (the family box, or chest of drawers) during the ceremony. it was too tedious to see it out, but our lama informed us next morning that the incantation had been successful (of course)--that they had discovered who the thief was, but as to catching him and recovering the property, that seemed as far off as ever. on the second day of our halt the kitat arrived, in company with a friend, both on camels, and with my pony, "dolonor." he had managed to lose his own camel in the chase, and had come up to us on one borrowed from his companion. the lama gave him a cold reception, lamenting bitterly over the loss of his camel. as to the pony, he came full of spirits, but being rather poor when he ran away, the six days' hard hunting in the desert had not improved his condition, and i wished they had left him where he was. we were two days kicking our heels about in the utmost impatience before our lama deigned to make his appearance with the new camels. as soon as he came, tellig started on an expedition to see his friends, who also lived some six or eight miles off, and did not return till the next day. the lama, instead of preparing for the journey, went dilly-dallying about, drinking tea and gossiping with all the old women in the country, which we considered a wanton waste of _our_ time, and we exhibited the feelings natural to us under such circumstances. the lama tried every device to keep us till the th, but we were desperate, and forced them to commence packing late at night, which was no easy matter in the dark, with unwilling workmen. tellig was civil and good-natured. the kitat showed the cloven foot so disagreeably as to provoke some rough treatment, which led to his leaving our service. i suspect this had already been arranged, for a substitute was found at a moment's notice. the new camels not having been tried in harness, were first put into the empty carts, and carefully led about for some time, before they could be depended on for steadiness. all this occupied a good many hours in a very cold night, and it was midnight before we got away from tsagan-tuguruk. two friends of the lama accompanied us on our first stage, which was only a few miles, for we were halted before daylight. the lama's business matters had not been quite settled, and he had a few more last words with his two friends. the packing, so hurriedly done in the dark, had all to be done over again. while these little matters were being arranged, we had time to take stock of our new establishment. the camels were certainly fat and fresh, humps full and erect, backs whole, with only the marks of old scars. the camel department could not be in a better state than it was. kitat's substitute turned out to be a lama, a good-natured looking fellow, whom we afterwards discovered to be well-meaning but stupid. he could speak a few words of chinese, and we therefore christened him, in contradistinction to our chief of the staff, who was _the_ lama _par excellence_, the "kitat lama." we further observed that _the_ lama had somehow got rid of his pony, and now rode a camel, which looked ominous for the success or even the preservation of our equestrian stock; for the lama hated camels, and never rode one himself when he could help it. chapter viii. mongolia--_continued_ the grass was still copiously sprinkled with onions. as we advanced we crossed some marshy ground with a good deal of water, enough to make it necessary to pick the way judiciously, for the camel hates water or slippery mud. their broad soft feet don't sink into the mud sufficiently to enable them to get a good foot-hold like a horse, and their long weedy legs are so loosely knit together, that they run a great risk of splitting up when their feet slip. a caravan of seventeen camels, that had accompanied us since morning, took a wrong road across the marshes and stuck, the camels being unable to proceed. our lama took a round-about road, for which we abused him at the time; but when he saw the other caravan brought up all standing on the short cut, he merely pointed it out to us with a triumphant chuckle, and quietly asked, "who knows the road?" a -camel caravan was passed encamped near the marsh. it was from urga, and probably from kiachta, loaded with merchandise for china, and for account of chinese. two celestials were in charge of the goods, jolly roystering fellows, with whom we stopped awhile and held such conversation as to the road, the state of the pastures, time occupied, &c., as will usually occur to travellers in such regions. it was curious to notice how untruthful these travellers' stories generally were. they seemed to say whatever came uppermost in their minds, as a man of a happy disposition will often say, "it is a fine day," when it is raining cats and dogs. but yet if you are to believe _nothing_ of what you hear on the road, you will deprive yourself of a great deal of information which might be valuable; and if you believe _all_, you will keep yourself and your people constantly in hot water. it is difficult to steer a safe course between too much credulity on the one hand, and too little faith on the other. we halted again at o'clock at _taryagi_, a region unpeopled; but we were near a shallow lagoon, with thick chalk-coloured water. it was most unpalatable, but the mongols seemed to like it. it is easier for them to draw their water from a pool than to fetch it from a distant well; and to cover their indolence, they invariably assure you that the wells are salt. you are of course obliged to accept their explanations, for if they were to assert that there were no wells at all, you would not be a bit the wiser. although the pastures were pretty fair at taryagi, our camels were not allowed to graze, the reason being, that in their condition, they would blow themselves out in a couple of hours to such an extent, that they would not be fit to work. it was pitch dark before we got ready to start. we had difficulty in collecting the beasts, particularly the ponies, and a young unruly camel. our two chan-kia-kow lanterns were sufficient to make the darkness visible, but no more. the mongols, when looking for cattle in the dark, stoop down to the ground and scan the horizon round. in a steppe, this plan is very useful, for if the animal is not very far off, his outline can be descried against the horizon. at daylight we were in the steppe _butyn-tala_, where another large caravan was encamped. this steppe has also a great deal of surface water in it, and in the small valleys round it. the grass is pretty good, and cattle abundant. game was again met with in butyn-tala. our next halt was near _sain-kutul_, where there were good pastures, but shocking water. we really could not drink it, and, as the day was still hot, we had to suffer from thirst. milk was of no use, and only aggravated our sufferings. at sain-kutul, a strange mongol (a lama) rode up on a camel, and after the usual greetings, he undid his camel's load, and took up his quarters in the tent of our people. on inquiry, we found he was going to _kuren_ (urga of the russians), and gave us to understand we might have his company if we liked. he had started from his home with his one camel to perform a long journey, without any of the necessaries usually carried on such a journey, trusting that bhuddha would furnish a table for him in the wilderness, and a covering as well, by directing him to the tent of some travellers who were better provided than himself. he was a man of a mean character. our first impressions of him were decidedly unfavourable, and subsequent experience confirmed them. not that the man ever did anything wrong; on the contrary, his conduct was regulated by the strictest rules of propriety. but that merely served to aggravate his offence, for it gave us no excuse for disliking him. on the first day of our acquaintance i lent a hand to lash up his gear, not from any desire to help him, but from the same motive that induces people to twirl their thumbs for want of some more intellectual amusement; or children to pull and haul at anything they can lay hands on, more especially where they have a chance of doing mischief. as i was pulling at his ropes, the fellow looked up in my face, and, with the most abject expression, but with great gravity, said, "_sain chung! sain chung!_" good man! good man! the mongols use this expression in two senses, one with a meaning, and one without. now, in which sense soever this individual used it, it was equally bad, and i much fear i never forgave him for it. indeed if he had asked forgiveness (which he did not) i could not have believed him sincere. and this man was to stick to us like the old man of the sea all the way to urga! he affected great learning too--knew all the lama books, according to his own account, and had been to tangut. whether by tangut the mongols mean the old country of tangut, or whether it means thibet, i am unable to say. it is most probably the latter, and the confusion of names is very likely to have occurred from the fact that tangut was peopled with a thibetian race. after leaving sain-kutul, we were joined by a russian courier, a lama, mounted on a camel, a very unusual thing, for they generally ride horses, changing them every twenty or thirty miles. the courier, knowing russ, tried to get up a conversation with us in that language, which we evaded, for we had already discovered the advantage of passing for russians. it would, indeed, have been useless to explain to the lama that we were not russians. it would probably have staggered his belief to begin with, for i am persuaded that more than half the mongol population believe mongolia to be in the centre of the world, with russia at one end, and china at the other. the russian courier or postal service through mongolia is all done by lamas, whom an idle roaming life seems to suit better than it does the black men. they perform the distance from chan-kia-kow to kiachta, miles, in eleven or twelve days easily, by means of their relays of horses. this seems very fast travelling, compared with our weary thirty days' journey; but it is really very slow, and if the courier were pushed, he could do the distance in six days even, with the same facilities as they have at present, excepting, perhaps, that the rider should be relieved once. we met several of them on the road, and they travel as if time were no object to them; for example, the courier now alluded to kept company with us at our two mile an hour pace from o'clock in the evening till next day. others of them on ponies have done the same thing, and i know they spend their time in yourts, gossiping and drinking tea for hours together. in short, the couriers to and from kiachta take matters exceedingly easy. there are three couriers monthly; one for the russian government, starting from peking, and two for the kiachta merchants; the latter go to and from tientsin. the russian government courier is entirely under the control of the chinese government, and is also, i believe, at its expense. the merchants' posts are managed by themselves. near _ichi khapstil_ we encamped in rather good pastures, and near a large pond of very dirty water, with wild fowl on it. a large kind of duck, nearly all white, and dab-chicks, were the tenants of this pond, but we elsewhere saw many species of wild fowl. six of our camels were now allowed to eat and drink, after fasting for four days, to our knowledge, and perhaps a couple of days before they were brought to us. the water from the pond was nauseous. i could not touch it, and suffered severely from thirst in consequence. in the afternoon, when we had started the caravan, i rode all over the country on every side looking for water, but could not find any, except a mere puddle where horses and cattle had pitted the wet mud with foot-prints. into these holes a little water had collected, and we were fain to stoop down and drink with eagerness the filthy liquid that, at another time, would have turned my stomach. but we were happily getting out of the watery region, and before night we got into a yourt to make tea, and found delicious spring-water. the camel that was drawing my cart did a very unusual thing during this evening. he set to kicking so violently that at first i was afraid he would smash everything to pieces, but, as every blow was delivered on the solid part of the machine, no damage was done, except to the camel's own legs. he would not desist until he had so mauled himself that he could hardly stand on his legs. and when the pain had a little subsided he would resume the kicking, but with less and less energy, until he was fairly defeated. during the fits he was dangerous to approach, for, by the formation of a camel's hind legs, the lower extremities spread out widely from the hocks, and the feet, in kicking, project considerably beyond the perpendicular of the shaft. tellig did, in fact, get knocked over in this way. this was the only instance in my experience of one of these patient animals getting out of temper. the face of the country was now fast changing its character, being broken up into irregular elevations, and was more grassy. we hoped the worst part of the desert had been left behind, as we gradually got into an inhabited region. passing _sharra-sharatu_, where there were many yourts, we proceeded to _shibetu_, in the middle of a hilly country. our next stage took us to the _ulin-dhabha_ mountains, the only ones worthy the name we had seen in mongolia. the road rises gradually towards the mountains from feet to feet, which is the elevation of the pass. the pass is an easy one, and forms a deep cutting into the mountains. the pass opens out a fine valley on the north, which was alive with men and beasts moving about; yourts packed up and laid on the backs of cows, camels, &c., and on rude wooden carts; flocks of sheep, and droves of cattle being driven here and there. the mongols were moving to winter quarters. in the summer season they spread all over the desert and find enough food to support their beasts, but in the winter they try to get into some sheltered place where there is enough grass to keep their beasts alive during those dreary months. the few touches of north wind we had lately felt warned the inhabitants of the steppes of the approach of winter, and of the necessity of seeking a more hospitable region. near _bombatu_, where we halted, the grass was luxuriant, and our half-starved ponies enjoyed it thoroughly. but, unfortunately, when our beasts are in clover our men are fagged out. tellig especially, who has had most of the work, is nearly done for want of sleep and from constant exposure on the back of his camel. there was no end to the ox-cart caravans that passed us on the way to china. there are between and carts in each, and they followed so close on one another that it seemed as if there was a continuous line of them for the whole length of a night's march. their tinkling bells have a strange, but not unpleasant, effect as they move slowly along. on the th september the lama made an excuse of buying sheep for himself and us, to halt at a.m. some miles south of the steppe _guntu-gulu_. we had been but two days without meat, but the mongols had eaten nothing for six days. we had made several ineffectual attempts to buy sheep, and that very morning we had concluded a bargain for one, but the owner in catching the sheep missed his mark as he sprang forward to clutch it, and fell sprawling on his face. of course we laughed, in common with the mongol spectators, and whether the fellow was angry at being the occasion of merriment to us, or whether he considered his accident as a providential intimation that he was to sell no sheep that day, i cannot tell; but he obstinately declined to have anything more to say to us on the subject of sheep-selling. the pony i had got at tsagan-tuguruk had gone all to the bad with his feet. the roads had been very stony all the way, and his hoofs were too far gone to bear rough travelling. i bartered him, therefore, for two good sheep, and now i had only the skeleton of dolonor left. high mountains appeared fifteen miles east of us (if one may venture to estimate distance in such a country), and we began to hope for something like scenery. it blew fresh and cold from s.-w., and in the afternoon it came round to n.-w., a regular _choinar salchin_, or north wind, a word of horrible signification to mongols. and if dreaded in september what must it be in january? i often wondered how the wretches get through their dreary winter. they are taken very suddenly with these cold northers. the day may be fine, and almost oppressively warm. a cloud comes over, and drops as much water as you would get out of a watering-pan. then the north wind pipes up, and in a few hours you have made the transition from a tropical summer to worse than an arctic winter, for the biting wind cuts into the bone. in the face of a sharp norther we entered on the steppe _guntu-gulu_, which seemed to be about five miles broad, but it proved the best part of a day's march, so deceptive are distances without prominent marks. a scene occurred in the steppe which delayed us a night, and might have proved serious enough to arrest our progress altogether. one of our guns went off in the cart (we always kept them loaded and handy), the charge went through some bedding, then the wooden back of the cart, and ricochetted from a wooden bar outside, miraculously clearing the camel that was following within two yards of the cart, and describing a curve over the whole line; one of the pellets hit the lama who was bringing up the rear, at a distance of full sixty yards, and made a groove on the outside of the flap of his ear. it bled profusely; in fact, the first notice he had of the injury was the streams of blood that suffused his neck and shoulders. he roared in terror, thinking he was _at least_ killed; stopped the caravan; dismounted from his camel, and committed himself to the care of tellig and the kitat lama. the tent was hastily put up, and all made ready for a halt. tellig and the others were greatly alarmed, and disturbed in their minds, and we were somewhat uncertain of the view their superstitious fanaticism might lead them to take of the affair. luckily we had just got clear of another very large caravan, and were spared the officious assistance of a crowd of people. there was a pool of water close by, and we sent for repeated supplies of it, washing the ear, and letting it bleed freely. the wound was nothing at all, but the profuse bleeding frightened the mongols. our policy was to look wise; and my companion being provided with a neatly got-up little case containing various articles of the _materia medica_, it was produced, and inspired a proper amount of blind faith in the minds of our mongol friends. the wound was washed with arnica, and a piece of sticking-plaster put on it so successfully, that it completely stopped the bleeding, and made a very neat finish. the mongols looked on with much wonder and reverence at our proceedings, and if any idea at retaliation for the injury had crossed their minds, it was now giving place to a feeling of gratitude for our surgical assistance. the lama was helpless from fright, and we had him lifted to his tent, where we made him recline on a bed that had been extemporised for him with boxes and things packed behind him on the windy side. a towel was tied round his head to keep the cold out, and he was made as comfortable as our means would allow. he looked sad and woe-begone, and we could with difficulty suppress a smile at the utter prostration of mind that the sight of his own blood had induced. he now imagined he had pains in his head, throat, and chest, and seeing him so entirely a victim to his fears, we were obliged to humour them a little, prescribing for his various symptoms with great care. the first thing we ordered him was a measured glass of brandy, knowing him to be partial to that liquor. this roused him a little, and his pluck began to return. we then prescribed tea, which was soon made, and, as he improved in spirits, we ordered mutton, knowing they had some scraps left from their morning's feast. all that done, we allowed him to smoke, and finally prescribed a good night's rest. in the morning we inquired for our patient and found him well, but much inclined to remain in his shell till the north wind was over. this was a little too much of a good thing; so when we had carefully examined him all over, and scrutinised all his symptoms, we were compelled to pronounce him fit to travel. he could not get out of it, but reluctantly mounted his camel, his head still tied up in a white towel, to the wonderment of the wandering tartars we encountered on our march. it certainly never was my fortune to be so well treated by a doctor, but as the faculty in this country depend so much on popularity, a similar mode of treatment with the majority of their patients would be well worth their consideration. i may here observe that the mongols have their ears very protuberant, like an elephant's. the accident to the lama was a godsend to us in procuring us a night's rest. the wind blew mercilessly across the steppe, so that sleeping in our carts with their backs turned to the wind, we could not keep warm. what it would have been, marching in the teeth of it with our front exposed, may be imagined by those who have experienced these cutting winds, for the fronts of our carts were, with all our care, but indifferently closed by sheets of felt, fastened as securely as we could manage, but utterly ineffective to keep out a gale of wind. most of the steppes in the desert are inhabited by a small marmot, like a rat, which burrows in the ground. its custom is to sit on its haunches (it has only a rudimentary tail) beside its hole, uttering a chirping noise when alarmed, and then dropping into its hole, turning round immediately with only its head out to see if the apprehended danger is imminent, and then disappearing altogether. each hole has several roads to it, extending to about twenty or thirty yards from the hole. the little animal seems never to stray from the beaten track, and is so secure of reaching its retreat, that it will allow you almost to tread on it before it begins to scamper home. where these animals abound, the ground is furrowed in all directions by their roads. on the margins of their holes a heap of grass and herbs is piled up, which huc thought was for the purpose of sheltering the animals from the winter winds. i have too much faith in their instinct to believe that, however, for, once in their burrows underground, no wind can touch them. it is more probable that the stores of vegetable matter so collected are intended for winter forage, which they collect with great industry during the autumn. our ponies were very fond of nibbling at these heaps of drying grass, and turning them over with their noses, a practice which we did our best to discourage. it was in fact a kind of sacrilege to destroy wantonly the stores of food that these interesting creatures had with so much forethought and months of patient labour accumulated against the evil day. in guntu-gulu we met with another marmot of nearly similar habits, but much larger. it is in size and colour like a hare, but heavier and clumsier in its movements. its burrows are as large as a rabbit's. it is found at a considerable distance from its hole, and is more easily alarmed than its neighbour, because less easily concealed. when slightly alarmed, it makes rapidly for its hole, and there sits till the danger approaches too near. then, cocking up its short tail and uttering a chirp, it disappears into its hole. we could never get within shot of these animals. as to the little fellows, we got so close to them that it would have been cruelty to shoot them, as we had no means of preserving the skin. the larger ones burrow in stony places, and with their short legs, strong claws, and wiry hair, somewhat resemble the badger or racoon. they might be the _lepus pusillus_, or "calling hare," if it were not that that species is positively said never to be found farther east than the oby. the wind lulled at sunset, and we had a fine frosty night. the morning of the th september showed us the first _bonâ fide_ ice, and from that time we had frost during all the remainder of the journey. it was a moonless night, the roads were indifferent, the mongols hungry and tired, and they therefore took it on themselves to halt for some hours before daylight to make tea near _khulustu-tologoi_. from there we crossed the steppe _borelju_, meeting the usual array of ox-cart caravans, and encamped at o'clock near the entrance to a pass leading through a ridge of hills. the sharp clear outline of _bain-ula_ (rich mountain), ten to sixteen miles distant on our right, and the modest elevations at the foot of which we were encamped, made a pretty bit of scenery after such a monotonous succession of steppes. we had now been twenty-two days in mongolia, and had become strongly imbued with the habits of the people we were living amongst. to have imagined that we were _travelling_ at such a slow pace would have been misery. but there was nothing to make us believe we were travelling. now and then a vague idea would cross our minds that some day we ought to see kiachta, but that was of short duration, and our daily routine all went to keep up the illusion that we were dwellers in the desert. there was nothing to mark our daily stages, no church spires or road-side inns, not even a mile post. those fine euphonious names of places i have given indicate nothing. they might with as much propriety be given to various parts of the ocean. we had entirely identified ourselves with the wandering tartars, and were content to live in the desert with much the same feeling that the israelites must have experienced during their desert journeyings, that there was a promised land dimly figured out to them--that is to say, their apprehension of the reality of it was dim; but the thought of ever arriving there had but slight influence on their daily life. the regular supply of manna was to their minds much more important than the bright future to which their leaders looked forward. and so it is with the greater part of mankind. with all its drawbacks, there is a charm about desert life which is worth something to a man who has undergone the worry of incessant occupation. you are safe there from the intrusions of mail steamers and electric telegraphs, and "every day's report of the wrong and outrage with which earth is filled." the longer you live in such quiet solitudes the more independent you feel of the great struggling world without. it is a relief to turn your back on it for a while, and betake yourself to the children of nature, who, if they lack the pleasures, lack also many of the miseries, and some of the crimes, which accompany civilisation. the day turned out very warm, so much so, that we were glad to get shelter from the sun under our canvas until o'clock, when we were again in the saddle. the pass proved a fine valley, rich in grass. another long string of caravans was met with, most of the carts empty, and bound from urga to dolonor. why they were empty we could not ascertain, but conjectured that they could not get loaded before winter, of which the late severe weather had given them warning, and that they were bound at all hazards to get home to winter quarters. some days before this we had picked up a young pilgrim, a lama, on a journey to the great lamasery at urga, there to pass a certain time in study. the boy was performing a journey of between and miles alone and on foot. he carried nothing in the world with him except the clothes on his back and a few musty papers containing lama prayers, carefully tied up between two boards which he carried in his bosom. he had no provisions with him, still less any money, but depended solely on the well-known hospitality of his countrymen for his daily bread and his night's lodging. i thought there was something heroic in a boy of fifteen undertaking such a journey under such circumstances, but the mongols thought nothing of it. our caravan offered him a good opportunity of performing his journey comfortably, which he at once and without ceremony availed himself of. his first appearance was in one of our halts, where he was discovered in the tent of our mongols, as if he had dropped from the clouds, and our three mongols had thenceforth to fill two extra mouths, which must have been a considerable tax on them. the boy was at once placed on our effective staff, and we christened him _paga-lama_, or "little lama," a name not much relished at first, but he soon became reconciled to it. the little lama had left his mother's tent in summer, a few days before; winter had now overtaken him--for there is no autumn or spring in mongolia--and he was all too thinly clad for such inclement weather. our lama, seeing the boy pinched with cold in these biting north winds, with the genuine hospitality of a mongol gave up one of his coats to him, thus unconsciously practising a christian precept to which few christians in my experience pay so much practical respect. the little lama's loose leather boots, and particularly the felt stockings inside of them, were considerably travel-worn; and, with all his management, he could not keep his red toes covered from the cold. but he was patient and enduring, and very thankful for what he had got. he had no more long marches to make on foot, for our lama generally contrived to put him on a camel. on the morning of the th of september, we found ourselves starting from a halt at o'clock, which caused a row between us and the mongols; for though the night had been cold and dark enough to give them an excuse, we admitted no excuses for extra stoppages, and we had been stopped most of the night. it was a cold, raw morning, with a heavy leaden sky, and a fresh southerly wind, very unusual weather in mongolia. we soon came to a point where the road seemed to terminate abruptly on the brow of a precipice, and it was now plain that we could not have proceeded further without good daylight. from our elevated position we came suddenly on a view of scenery of surpassing magnificence. an amphitheatre of mountains lay before us, rising up in sharp ridges, and tumbled about in the wildest confusion, like the waves of the sea in a storm. the crests of many of them were crowned with patches of wood, and to us, who had lived so long in the flat, treeless desert, the effect of this sudden apparition was as if we had been transported to fairy land. we had to cross a wide valley that lies half encircled at the foot of the mountains, and our descent was almost precipitous for feet. we had to get out and walk, and the camels had enough to do to get the empty carts down safely. on the top of the high ground, and at the beginning of the descent, is a large _obon_, or altar, consisting of a cairn of stones. there are many of them in different parts of mongolia. they are much respected by the mongols, and have a religio-superstitious character. it is considered the duty of every traveller to contribute something to the heap, the orthodox contribution being undoubtedly a stone. our lama seldom troubled himself to dismount, and find a stone, but contented himself with plucking a handful of hair from the hump of his camel, and allowing it to be wafted to the _obon_, if the wind should happen to take it there. at the same time he saved his conscience by mumbling a few words from the form of prayer prescribed for such occasions. at the more important _obons_, however, such as the one which has led to these remarks, which are always placed at difficult or dangerous passes, he rode a-head of the caravan, dismounted, and with solemn words and gestures propitiated the good genius of the mountain. the mongols have a great horror of evil spirits, and have strong faith in the personality, not of one, but many devils. in this respect, they are like the chinese buddhists, but i never could detect that they worshipped the devil, as their neighbours do, the whole drift of whose religious ceremonies always seemed to me to be to charm away or make terms with evil spirits. this is, of course, only negative evidence as regards the mongols, and that from a very slight experience, but the tone of religious sentiment among them is more healthy and elevating, encouraging the belief that devils are not among their objects of worship. they don't speak of the _tchutgour_, or devil, in the same flippant way as the chinese do of their _kwei_, and although they attribute diseases and misfortunes to _tchutgour_ influences, only to be counteracted by lama incantations, they hold that good men, and especially good lamas, never can _see_ a _tchutgour_. i have tried to joke with them on the subject, and turn their _tchutgour_ notions into ridicule, but the mongols, though easily amused on any other subject, were sensitively anxious on this, and never spoke of it without serious concern. the rapid and complete recovery of our lama from what seemed to him and his friends a deadly wound, was the cause of no small congratulation to them as establishing the moral excellence of his character, by means of a severe ordeal--as it were a hand-to-hand contest with the powers of evil. as we advanced across the valley a few drops of rain fell. a halt was summarily ordered, and the mongols began to run about, hastily unloading camels and unrolling tents, with horror depicted on their faces, muttering to themselves, "_borro beina_," "the rain is coming." there is so little rain in mongolia, that no great preparations are made for it, and a smart shower disconcerts travelling mongols as if they were poultry. before our tents were got up, the rain was falling heavily, and we were all well drenched, but when we had got safely under the canvas, the real misery of our situation flashed upon us--the argols were wet, and we could get no fire! the poor mongols resigned themselves to their fate with enviable philosophy, looking on their misfortune as one of the chances of war. we were not so well trained in the school of adversity, however, and could not tolerate the idea of sitting in our wet clothes during that cold, rainy day. besides, past experience had taught us to look for the dreaded north wind after rain, and how could we abide its onset in such a condition? there was but one source from which we could obtain fuel, and that was to break up one of our cases of stores, and burn the wood. this was also wet, but not saturated like the argols, and after some difficulty we lighted a fire in our tent, and gave the mongols enough to make them a fire also, by which to boil their tea. we were richly rewarded by their looks and expressions of gratitude for such an unexpected blessing. the rain continued all day till sunset, when it cleared up, and the wind came round to n.-w., piping up in the usual manner. we got our tent shifted round, back to wind, and made ourselves exceedingly comfortable. with waterproof sheets and a light cork mattress, the wet ground was of no account, and we could always manage to keep our blankets dry. in the morning the ground was white with snow, and the north wind blowing more pitilessly than ever. a few driving showers of snow fell for some hours after sunrise, and we waited till o'clock before resuming our journey towards the mountains _tsagan-dypsy_ which bounded the plain in our front. _tsagan_ meaning "white," we thought the name highly appropriate, as we gazed the live-long day on their snow-clad slopes. it was a trying day to all of us, and i never suffered so much from cold. the sun seldom showed his face, and the air was charged with black, heavy snow-clouds, which only the violence of the wind prevented from falling. it was impossible to endure the wind, either in cart or on horseback. there was nothing for it but to walk, but that was no easy performance in the teeth of such a gale, and we were fain to take shelter behind the carts, supporting ourselves by holding on to them. i estimated that i walked twenty miles in that way. the camels breasted the storm bravely, and even seemed to enjoy it. the bactrian camel, at least the mongol variety, is peculiarly adapted for cold climates. in a hot day he is easily fatigued, and seems almost to melt away in perspiration under his load (hence our constantly travelling at night, in the early part of our journey, and resting in the heat of the day), but in cold weather he braces himself up to his work, and the colder it gets, the better he is. we were entertained by the few travellers we met with alarming accounts of the state of the river tolla, which was said to be in flood, and impassable. we paid little heed to such job's comforters, knowing the asiatic proneness to figurative language; but our lama was disconsolate, and began to look like a man who feels that some great calamity is hanging over him. on gaining the tsagan-dypsy mountains we enter a long, narrow, but very pretty valley, watered by the small river _kul_, which runs into the _tolla_. the mountains on both sides of us were well wooded, chiefly with fir with yellow feathery leaves, and small birch. the fir grows to no great size, probably because it is in too great demand for sale in china. several wood-cutting stations were observed in this valley of the kul, where the timber is collected and the ox-carts loaded, of which we met so many in the desert. with the woods, several new birds appear, conspicuous among which are magpies, jackdaws, and pigeons. the _yak_, or "long-haired ox," or "grunting ox" (_poëphagus grunniens_), also now appear in considerable numbers. they are smaller than the average mongol ox, but seem to be very strong and hardy. they are used solely for draught purposes. it has been supposed that these animals are peculiar to thibet, but they appear to be also indigenous in mongolia. passing through the kul valley, our lama purchased two small trees for firewood, giving in exchange half a brick of tea. it was joyfully intimated to us that we should want no more argols, but should find wood all the rest of the journey. the intelligence pleased us not so much on account of the prospect of a more civilised fuel to burn than argols, for, cooking as we did, in the open air, there was not much to choose between the two; but we received it as a tangible evidence that we had really passed the great desert, and were henceforth to travel in a country of mountains and "shaggy wood." chapter ix. urga to kiachta. just as we came in sight of the river _tolla_, and with our glasses could make out the houses in the chinese settlement of _mai-machin_ beyond, a heavy, blinding shower of snow came on, which neither man nor beast could face, in the teeth of such a wind as was blowing. the camels were halted and tents hastily pitched, but not before the ground was covered with snow. the storm did not, however, prevent visitors from coming to us from the numerous caravans that were encamped round us in the valley. eager inquiries were made as to the state of the river, and the information received was to us more gloomy, because more definite, than before. the stream was very rapid, and the water very high. the only boat they had fit to cross it had been swept away by the force of the current, and in an attempt to ford it, two men and a horse had been drowned that very day. our informants were in a similar predicament to ourselves, and some of them had been waiting several days for an opportunity to cross. we could no longer discredit these statements, and we acquiesced in our adverse fate to the best of our ability; but it was sorely trying to our patience to be stuck there in sight of _urga_, the first great break in our journey through mongolia, with only a little bit of a river between. we were consoled as usual under such circumstances by a good dinner, to the preparation of which we always devoted special care, when we were stopped by compulsion. a few hours' kindly converse with the mongols in their tent served to while away the long evening. they are, in many things, very much like children, and easily amused. our simplest plan was to select one of the company, generally the kitat lama, and make him the subject of a series of imaginary stories that we had heard of him in distant parts. the mongols are always ready to enjoy a joke at the expense of their friends, though the individual directly interested does not seem to appreciate it. it is a very tender point with a lama to be asked how his wife and family are, as their vows exclude them from matrimonial happiness (or otherwise). they have a long list of stereotyped salutations, which are hurriedly exchanged by travellers as they pass on the road, and more deliberately and sententiously delivered on entering a tent. tender inquiries after the flocks and herds, wives and children, are among the number, but the latter of course is never addressed to lamas. we, in our ignorance, were not supposed to know the lama _régime_, and we could always shock the feelings of a strange lama by asking after the _chuchung_ (wife), and thereby raise a laugh among the listeners. during our night encampments it was considered necessary for one of the party to keep watch and ward over the goods and chattels, for the mongols are not so honest as they usually get credit for. foreigners are disposed to put more confidence in them than they do in each other, and they must surely know their own countrymen best. if a chinaman were asked what he took such precautions for, he would probably say against wolves and tigers; but the plain-spoken mongols bluntly tell you that thieves are their bugbear. the expression they generally use for thieves is _mochung_, "bad men," and it is questionable whether they recognise any other kind of badness. they don't break up the night into different watches, but one keeps guard the whole night through, the others taking it in turns on subsequent nights. the lama, by virtue of his position as head of the party, gave himself a dispensation, and the onus of watching fell on tellig and the kitat lama. when we had strapped down the door of our tent, made all snug for the night, and retired under the blankets with a book, a candle burning on the ground, we used to receive visits from tellig in his rounds. lying down on the ground, he would insinuate his large bullet head under the curtain of the tent, and scan us carefully to see if we were asleep. if awake, he would ask us for a light to his pipe, and for permission to smoke it in the tent, as, in the high wind, it would be difficult to keep it alight outside. he would then lie and smoke with half his body inside the tent and half out, and on such occasions he would become very confidential, giving us most interesting accounts of his family affairs. he had a yourt near tsagan-tuguruk, and in that yourt he had a wife that he was greatly attached to, and two boys that he was very proud of,--one four years old and the other two. he had moderate possessions in cattle, which, in his absence, were cared for by his brother. he had been a long time separated from his family, and while we were at tsagan-tuguruk he had stolen a few hours to ride over and see his "chickens and their dam"; but our impetuous haste to get away had cut his visit very short. tellig's story brought qualms of compunction to our mind for what now seemed inconsiderate treatment; for he had, from the first, had all the hard work, and none of the indulgences; moreover he had always done for us cheerfully what he was in no wise bound to do. the wind continued to howl eerily the whole night, and our canvas flapped about like the sails of a ship in stays. the morning was still bitterly cold, and the sky darkened by heavy snow clouds driving furiously. it required no small resolution to turn out of our warm beds that morning; and i am sure if either of us had been travelling alone, he would have been inclined to lie quiet till called for. but we were each afraid of showing the white feather, and of being twitted with impeding the progress of the journey; we therefore mutually forced ourselves to get up. the mongols were making no move. as for tellig, he had just gone to sleep after his night's watching, and it seemed nothing could ever be done without him. with considerable trouble we overcame the _vis inertiæ_ of mr. lama, and persuaded him to ride down with us to the bank of the river to reconnoitre. the horses were brought in from the hill-side where they had spent the night trying to pick out a few blades of grass from among the stones. my "dolonor" looked down in the mouth, and did not snort at his master, which heretofore he had never failed of doing on every occasion. the poor brute was completely doubled up with the cold, and could hardly move one leg past another. i immediately presented him to a mongol, but i am afraid, with his old age and miserable condition, he could not last many more such nights. a great concourse of people were assembled on the bank of the _tolla_, many who wanted to cross, and many hangers-on, who make a living by assisting travellers to cross the river. mongols kept riding backwards and forwards between the river and the various caravans encamped in kul valley, all bent on the same errand as ourselves. but there was no crossing the tolla that day. the stream was foaming and roaring like a cataract, with a current of nearly seven miles an hour. it was deep enough to take a man up to the neck, and the bottom was strewn with large round pebbles, making fording difficult, even had the current been moderate and the water shallower. what the boat was like that had been swept away i cannot say; but there was only left a raft made of hollow trees lashed together, and, in the present state of the river, inadequate to any purpose whatever. in the motley crowd there assembled, every one had some sage advice to offer; communications were carried on at the highest pitch of many stentorian lungs, and the place was like another babel. all concurred in the impossibility of crossing; some thought it would be practicable to-morrow, others were less hopeful. there was nothing for us to do but to admire the truly magnificent scenery with which we were surrounded. the valley of the kul runs north, and enters the larger valley of the tolla at right angles. the general aspect of the mountains that overhang urga is bare, the woods being scattered in small patches. the tolla rushes out of a gorge in the mountains to the east, and is completely hidden by brushwood and willows, until it debouches on the opening formed by the kul, its tributary. the tolla hugs the left side of the valley, leaving a wide flat on the right, over which lies the road to _maimachin_ and _urga_. the day continued black and stormy till sunset. in the evening the wind moderated, and at night the stars shone out in all their splendour. the morning of the st of september was charming, a bright sun and a blue sky, with hard frost on the ground. the air was still, and the concert of mingled sounds, of cattle lowing, dogs barking, and the general hubbub among the wild mongols who were in motion in all quarters, was soothing to the feelings. it felt like a summer day, in spite of the hard crust under our feet. i am persuaded that unbroken fine weather would become very tiresome and monotonous; it can only be thoroughly enjoyed by contrast with stormy antecedents. we again left the caravan to ride to the river, and, like noah's dove, we returned with the olive-branch in our mouth. the waters had subsided a little, and some camels had actually crossed. there was no doubt of it, for we saw them with our own eyes standing dripping on the bank. the lama of course made difficulties, but we forced him to the attempt, and got the caravan moved down to the water by o'clock. there were two reasons why he felt reluctance to force a passage to-day; first, we had our carts to get through, which was, of course, much more difficult, and even risky, than merely walking a camel through the water with a load on his back. this objection we met by offering to leave our carts behind. the next objection, which the lama did not think it judicious to name to us, but which was nevertheless to him the more cogent of the two, was that he would require many assistants, and in the present condition of the ford, with so many people waiting to cross, they exacted onerous terms for their assistance; for even the simple unsophisticated mongols understand the mercantile laws of supply and demand. the regular ford was still too deep, and a more eligible spot was selected, half a mile higher up the stream, where it is divided into three branches, with low flat islands between. the three branches make up a breadth of several hundred yards, and the opposite shore is concealed from view by the small trees and underwood that grow on the islands. the scene at this ford was most animated and exciting. before proceeding to do anything, a great deal of jabbering had to be gone through, but once the plan of action was settled, our assistants set to work energetically. the two ponies of my companion were taken possession of, each bestridden by a mongol, with his nether garments either stripped off altogether, or tucked up to his hips. each took the nose-string of a camel and plunged into the ice-cold water. the camels were wretched, turning their long necks every way to avert their timid eyes from the water, of which they have an instinctive dread. moral suasion is vigorously applied to a camel's hind-quarters by half a dozen men armed with cudgels, but he still hesitates. the pony in his turn gets tired, standing in the cold water, and tries to back out just as the camel is feeling his way with his fore feet. the rider is equally impatient, with his bare legs dangling in the water, and plies his steed vigorously with his heels. it is all a question of time, and both animals are eventually launched into the stream. the camel's footing on the loose slippery stones is very insecure, and when the deep part is reached, it requires all his strength to prevent the current from floating him clean off his legs. he knows his danger, and trembles in every muscle. the same struggle occurs at each of the three branches, and we all watch the progress of the first detachment with breathless anxiety, as we see the pony gradually sinking till only his head and shoulders are above water. when they are safely landed on _terra firma_, the two camels are unloaded, and brought back in the same way to fetch the two carts. the carts have in the meantime been emptied of our bedding, and various small necessaries we usually kept there, which are lashed up in bundles, and covered with waterproof sheets, ready to put on the back of a camel. the passage of the carts was the most ticklish business of all. they were all wood, except the iron-work about the wheels. would they sink or swim? if the latter, it would be impossible to cross them in such a current. one was actually floated away, camel and all, but luckily fetched up on a shoal place lower down, whence it was recovered with slight damage. we crossed with the last batch, two on a camel. a mongol sat behind me, and made me lean over against the current, to give the camel a bias in that direction; but i confess to having felt momentarily nervous, as the poor beast staggered and hesitated in a strong eddying current that almost carried him off his legs. four hours had been occupied in crossing the tolla, during all which time the two ponies and their riders were in the water. the men's legs had become a bright red colour, and their teeth chattered audibly; but they were cheery and light-hearted, and only laughed at their hardships. a dram when it was all over made them as happy as kings. they are undoubtedly a fine hardy race, these mongols; no wonder that they make such admirable soldiers. all sorts of people were crossing the tolla with us, among whom were some very old men travelling on horseback. one old woman i observed also, infirm and almost blind, crossing on a pony, her son riding alongside of her and holding her on. these people all take off their boots and trowsers, and carry them on the saddle to put on dry at the other side. [illustration: fording the tolla near urga. (page .)] we were now a good mile from the road, and it was getting dark. we could not travel further that night, and did not wish to put up our tent. we therefore accepted an escort, and the proffered hospitality of a mongol, and galloped to his yourt, which was near the urga road. the plain is grassy, but rather stony, and intersected by many small watercourses running out of the tolla. our host was none other than the _kitat_, whom we had so summarily dismissed, or at least compelled to send in his resignation, at tsagan-tuguruk. he received us with open arms in his yourt, and commended us to the good offices of the lady who presided over the cauldron. whether she was his own wife, or somebody else's wife, we could not clearly determine, but she performed the household duties with exemplary assiduity. a piece of a sheep was immediately put on the fire, while the kitat and the wife plied us with milk and cheese, and did their best to entertain us with their lively conversation, which turned chiefly on the passage of the tolla, with an occasional allusion to tsagan-tuguruk. we, all the while, tried to analyse the motives that actuated the kitat in going out of his way to show us such civility, seeing we had last parted with him on very indifferent terms. did he intend to heap coals of fire on our heads? or to show us that mongols bear no malice? or was he proud to show his friends that he had such distinguished guests in his tent? i believe he was moved by none of these considerations, but simply by the feeling of true hospitality that is natural to all mongols. it turned out that the feast our host had prepared was solely for us, for he himself was already engaged to dine with our lama and his tolla-river friends when they should come up. we were visited by many mongols, some of whom appeared to belong to the family, and spent a very pleasant evening. when bed-time came, and the fire was out, the hole in the roof was covered over, and the yourt was cleared of all but ourselves, the kitat and the lady. many valuable hours were lost next morning in settling with the mongols for their services of the preceding day. it cost three taels in all--about a guinea--a sum which seemed to our lama exorbitant, and caused many rueful shakes of his shaven head. during the bustle of preparation, a heartless robbery was committed on me. a small pic-nic case, containing a drinking-glass, knife, fork and spoon, was stolen out of the cart. if they had stolen a horse, or our tent, or box of sycee silver, i could have born it with equanimity, but the loss of articles so constantly in use was hard to bear. i missed them every hour of the day, and it was of course impossible to replace them. i was compelled, on emergencies, thereafter to use the _ei-iga_ of some stray mongol, which went much against the grain. they are so uncleanly in their habits that their wooden cups get frequently encrusted with dirt. their usual mode of cleaning them is to give the inside of the cup a scrape with the back of the thumb-nail, or, when they mean to be very particular, they clean their cup in the same manner as a dog cleans a plate. having bought another pony for myself from the kitat, first, because i wanted it; and second, because i wanted to acknowledge his hospitality, we formed the order of march, which was this: tellig, mounted on a pony, to accompany us and pilot us to maimachin and urga, and then follow after the caravan, which was to take a short cut from maimachin and cut off a corner at urga, not passing through the town at all. maimachin is a chinese commercial settlement about two miles from the ford of the tolla, established, as the mongols believe, for the purpose of swindling them. it is a unique-looking place, built of wood for the most part, the outer wall enclosing the whole, as also the fences round each compound, being made of rough poles placed uprightly and close together. it is entered by a gate, which has the appearance of being in constant use. the mutual jealousies of the two races lead them both to seclude themselves for their own protection. the chinese shopkeepers in the settlement are well-to-do people, mostly, i believe, shansi men. we rode about the streets for some time trying to find a few necessaries we required, but were not very successful. at last we stopped at a blacksmith's shop to try and get our ponies shod. the artisan to whom we addressed ourselves did not understand us, but ran into the next shop and brought out a well-dressed young fellow, who at once addressed us in russian. he could not comprehend our ignorance of that language; but he soon condescended to speak chinese, which a chinaman never will do if he can get on in any other language. we could not deal with the man, however, and being short of time we yielded to tellig's importunity, and turned our heads towards urga. the streets of maimachin are canals of black mire, and so uneven that our beasts could with difficulty keep their legs. we were heartily glad to get out into the open air again. on the way to urga we passed a large house nearly finished, on a rising ground, and in a fine commanding position. it is the house of the russian consul; but tellig would not have it so,--said he knew the russian house, and would take us there all right. he certainly did take us to a russian piggery, where a few so-called merchants lived in the most barbarous and filthy condition. we could not even communicate with them, except in the little we had picked up of the mongol language. to see the consul we had to go all the way back again to the big house we had passed. mr. shishmaroff, the vice-consul in charge, received us very hospitably, and treated us to a civilised breakfast on a clean white tablecloth. it was a greater luxury to us than probably even our host imagined, for we had not seen an egg for twenty-seven days, there being no fowls in mongolia. mr. shishmaroff must lead a very solitary life in urga, having no one with whom to associate but the high chinese mandarin and the mongol deputy-khan. his house-supplies are, for the most part, brought from kiachta, the russian frontier town, miles distant. the russian government keeps up a considerable establishment at urga, the consul having a body-guard of twenty cossacks, besides the twenty russian carpenters who are at work on the new house, and other hangers-on. the object of such an expensive establishment, at a place like urga, where russia has no interests whatever to protect, can only be divined by the light of its traditional policy of progress in asia. it has long been considered[ ] that the khingan chain of mountains running east and west past urga to the head waters of the river amoor forms the "natural boundary" of siberia, and consequently advantage has been taken of disputes between the mongol khans of former times and some russian merchants who had penetrated as far as urga, to gain a foot-hold there, which will certainly never be relinquished until the whole tract of country enclosed by these mountains and by the river kerulun, the head stream of the amur, to lake hurun or dalainor, has been annexed to siberia. after that, the "natural boundary" will be discovered to lie still farther to the south. russia is in no hurry to enter on the possession of this new territory, but, in the mean time, the country has been surveyed, and is included in russian maps of eastern siberia. the transfer will be made quietly, and without bloodshed, when the favourable moment comes, for none understand better than russian diplomatists the _suaviter in modo_ when it suits their purpose. no one will be much a loser by the change. the emperor of china will lose his nominal suzerainty over a country that even now probably costs him more than it is worth. the mongol tribes, with their chiefs, would merely become subjects of one autocrat instead of another; but everything else would probably go on as at present until time brought gradual changes. the chinese merchants don't care a straw about who is king as long as they are left to their peaceful occupations; and the russian government is too enlightened to throw any obstacles in the way of a trade which has done more than anything else to develop the resources of the siberian deserts. [ ] see bell of antermony. the name, _urga_, or the camp, is not in common use. the mongols call it _kuren_ or _ta kuren_, which huc translates the "great enclosure." the situation of the town, or camp, or whatever it may be called, is romantic in the extreme. it stands on a wide plateau about a mile from the tolla. behind the kuren is a bold and rugged mountain range which shelters it from the northerly gales, while in front there is never wanting a pleasing prospect for the eye to rest upon in the roughly wooded mountains beyond the tolla, that hem in the valley of that river. the river itself is hardly seen from the town, being concealed by the growth of brushwood on its banks and on the low islands that lie in the stream. the population is scattered over the plateau, without much reference to regularity of arrangement, and instead of streets the dwellings of the mongols are separated by crooked passages. the only buildings in the place are temples, official residences, and the houses occupied by chinese or russians. the mongols live in tents, as they do in the desert, with this difference, that each family surrounds itself with a wooden palisade as a protection from thieves, who are numerous among the pilgrims, who resort on pious missions to the kuren. a man was found to shoe our ponies, which he did well and expeditiously, and at a very moderate charge, about half the sum demanded at maimachin. the shoeing-smith was a chinaman--of course--for it seems the mongols never do, under any circumstances, shoe their horses. they have no hard roads, it is true, to contend with, but even the gravelly sand of many parts of the desert does sometimes wear down the soles of their horses' feet, and particularly the toes, until the animal becomes useless. they seldom allow them to get so bad as that, however, as the large herds they possess afford them the means of frequently changing their saddle-horses. there are no shops in the kuren, that being contrary to the mongol nature. all things necessary for desert life are to be purchased for bricks of tea in a large open space where a great bazaar is held under booths, principally by mongol women. there you may purchase horses, cattle, tents, leather harness, saddles, beef, mutton, caps for lamas or black men, female ornaments, felt,--in short everything within the scope of mongol imagination. our small purchases were effected very satisfactorily--no attempt was made to impose on us because we were strangers, and we had reason to congratulate ourselves that we were not at the mercy of chinese. in nothing is the contrast between mongols and chinese more marked than in the common honesty of shopkeepers or hawkers. it may indeed be said with truth that mercantile honesty allows a man to get as much as he can for his goods, but it is very doubtful whether such a maxim can properly be stretched so as to justify a shopkeeper in taking a customer at a disadvantage. the nucleus of the mongol settlement at urga is the great lamasery of the guison-tamba or lama-king of the mongols. in this monastery, and in the minor ones round it, it has been said that , lamas reside, which estimate, however, must be received with caution. the two great lamaseries of dobodorsha and daichenalon are built in an indentation of the mountains that form the northern valley which opens into the valley of the tolla at urga. as our route from urga lay on the slope of the opposite side of the valley, and our time was exhausted, we had not the chance of visiting these temples. the buildings are of vast extent, as plain almost as if they were barracks; but what ornamentation there is about them is quiet and in good taste. they differ considerably from the chinese style of architecture, and are no doubt thibetan. an inscription in the thibetan language has been placed on the slope of the hill above the monasteries. the characters are formed by means of white stones, and the size of them is such as to render the writing perfectly legible at the distance of a mile. all good lamas esteem it an honour to be able to say they have made a pilgrimage to the kuren, and these devotees come from enormous distances--some from the manchurian wildernesses in the far east, and others from the frontiers of thibet.[ ] there are many small shrines on the plateau on which the town stands, erected for the convenience of those ascetics who are desirous of commending themselves to the favour of bhudda and to the respect of their fellows. i observed one of these deluded people performing a journey to a shrine, which was then about a quarter of a mile from him. he advanced by three measured steps one stage, made sundry prostrations, falling flat on his face on the stony ground, repeated prayers, and then advanced again. i know not from what distance he had come, or how long it was since he had commenced this slow and painful march; but, on a rough calculation, we made out that it would take him two days more, at the same rate of progress, to reach the goal. [ ] huc. the lama-king of the kuren is regarded by the mongols as a god. he can never die--he only transmigrates. the whole of the kalkas tribes are under his sway, and this personage is consequently an object of constant jealousy to the emperors of china, who keep an anxious watch over his proceedings. the lama system has been greatly humoured by the chinese emperors from early times, and the theocracy of mongolia and thibet is mainly of their creation. the secular sovereignty of these nations became spiritual by an accident or an after-thought, and does not, like the japanese, trace back into the dawn of history its descent from the gods. the last independent king of thibet finding himself in great trouble from within and from without, escaped from the cares of government by becoming a lama. this happened about the year a.d., and, in a few years afterwards, thibet became subject to china. when kublai became emperor of china he made a lama of thibet king, and the kings who succeeded the mongols in china followed up the idea of conciliating the lama power by making eight of them kings. these afterwards (a.d. ) took the title of grand lama, and the chief of them became the dalai-lama of thibet,[ ] who from that time to this has been the head of the bhuddist religion and the vassal king of thibet. it would have been impossible, under any circumstances, for the dalai-lama to have maintained a real surveillance over the widely-scattered tribes who acknowledged his spiritual sway; and in fact his authority over his distant dependents began to be greatly relaxed from the time that the emperors of china completed the subjection of all the tribes who now inhabit what is called chinese tartary. the emperor kang-hi, under whose reign this was accomplished, promoted the independence of the lama-king of the kalkas with a view to severing the tie that bound them to their neighbours the eleuths or kalmuks, and in order to accustom the vassal chiefs of the various tribes to look more and more to the chinese emperors for government and protection. by this wise policy the chinese government sought to divert the mongols from forming any combination which might threaten the stability of the foreign rule to which the tribes had just been subjected. the chinese ambassadors at the court of the dalai-lama, men of great talent, and trained in diplomatic subtlety, furthered these purposes of their government by holding in check the pretensions of the dalai-lama, while appearing to support him, and, by indirect means, neutralising his authority whenever the exercise of it seemed to clash with the chinese policy. the lama-king of the kalkas has therefore become virtually independent of his spiritual superior at lassa, for whom he has about the same regard as napoleon has for the pope. [ ] histoire des huns, de guignes, paris, . the "urga" of the kalkas has not always been where it stands now. in ,[ ] it was on the river orkhon, near its confluence with the selenga, some distance north of the present urga. but some time before that date the kalkas had their head-quarters where the urga now stands, for we read[ ] of the eleuths having "destroyed the magnificent temple, which the kutuchtu had built near the river tula, of yellow varnished bricks," about the year . [ ] bell. [ ] un. hist., vol. iv. p. . the mountain fastnesses of the khangai range, stretching south-west from urga, and bordering the great desert, are eminently favourable to the assembling of armies, and afford a safe retreat for fugitive tribes. the richness of the pastures, and the abundance of water supplied by the larger rivers, and by the mountain streams that are found in every ravine, afford sustenance for unlimited herds and flocks. the first huns had their head-quarters not far from urga long before the christian era. the site of the old mongol capital of kara korum is about miles from urga in a south-west direction. thence the mongols issued forth to conquer asia and europe, and thither they returned, when driven out of china in , to found the new empire of the yuen of the north, under a grand khan of the kalkas. there also flourished ung-khan, celebrated in the th century, from his name having been used by the nestorians as a stalking-horse for perpetrating what has generally been considered as a gigantic hoax on the pope and various european sovereigns. the nestorians caused it to be reported that they had converted this potentate and his subjects to christianity; and that the khan had been by them baptised under the name of john. letters were written in the name of this "prester john" as he was called, to his royal brethren in the west. these seem to have been credited as genuine, for more than one mission was despatched from european courts to make the acquaintance of this most christian king. there is, perhaps, as much reason to believe as to doubt the conversion of this prince. these expeditions, if they failed in their main purpose, were at least the means of giving to the world much curious information concerning the inhabitants of the great tartary. "prester john," or, to call him by his right name, ung-khan, was the most powerful tartar prince of his day. genghis, then called temoujin, when a very young man, repaired to the court of ung-khan to seek aid to repress disturbances among his own tribes, and soon became commander-in-chief of ung-khan's armies, in which capacity he displayed the high military qualities which afterwards made him master of nearly the whole civilised world. he was a great favourite with the khan, and all went on smoothly until the unlucky day when ung-khan's daughter fell in love with young temoujin. the course of true love did not run smooth with him, for his rivals being fired with enmity, began to plot against him with the khan, who in time yielded to their instigation, and betrayed his best friend. temoujin remained true to his colours long after he lost the confidence of the khan; but the discovery of a deeply-laid plot against his life at length brought him to an open rupture with his sovereign. they fought a pitched battle between the rivers tolla and kerlon, probably at a short distance eastward from the present urga. ung-khan's forces had greatly the advantage in numbers, but the khan was no match for his accomplished general. temoujin gained a decisive victory. the khan escaped from the field of battle, but was soon afterwards killed, and his dynasty destroyed. temoujin now found himself master of the situation, and was installed at kara-korum in , under the title of genghis-khan. having done our business at the kuren, we started rather late in the afternoon in pursuit of the camels. the route lay about north through a valley. it was bad travelling, owing to the rough nature of the ground. it is naturally soft and boggy, and the melted snow in the low ground had greatly aggravated the evil. when past the great monasteries, we got on higher ground on the slope of the hills, but this was, if possible, more slippery than the low road, for the melting snow above kept up a continuous supply of moisture which made the road very difficult even for horses. we soon came upon the traces of camels, which we had no difficulty in identifying by the side-slips down the hill made by their broad splay feet. this is always dangerous work for camels, and we had some apprehension of accidents from "splitting," or dislocating the hip joints. we were in consequence not ill-pleased to come upon the caravan a little after sunset, encamped in a narrow ravine looking west, and at the foot of a steep pass. several of the camels had fallen, but fortunately none were injured. it was a fine moonlight night, and we tried to get our people to proceed on the journey; but the camels could not draw the carts over the pass, steep as it was, and with such slippery roads. bullocks had been sent for, and they were expected every hour, of course, but it might have been evident to us that they had no intention of coming before morning. anyhow we would not be the occasion of delay, and therefore slept in our carts ready for a move at any moment. at daylight on the rd of september the bullocks came, two for each cart, accompanied by a young woman and a boy, who proceeded to harness them in a very slow and deliberate manner. the beasts did their work, but with difficulty, owing to the broken character of the road. on the top of the pass our lama paid his respects to an obon, by throwing a large piece of wood on it, and the bullocks took the carts safely down the other side of the pass, which was quite as steep as the ascent. we then proceeded with the camels through valleys and undulations, among fine mountain scenery, avoiding the main road, and striking off through various bye-paths, all apparently well known to our conductors. at p.m. we halted off narim valley to dine, intending to take advantage of the moonlight to resume our night travelling. but as bad luck would have it a snowstorm came on, and we had to remain where we were till morning. all hopes of mending our pace from urga to kiachta now vanished. we had already lost two good nights out of the four, or at most five days which is considered ample time for the journey; and if the stormy weather were to continue, which it looked very like doing, we might be the whole winter on the road. the beasts had little to eat but snow all night. in the morning the ground was white, but the storm was over. our old enemy the wind began early in the day to stir the twigs of the trees, and though he came in like a lamb, we had but too sure a presentiment of what was coming. it blew fiercely all day, and we walked during the greater part of it. the slight covering of snow on the ground soon melted under the combined action of the sun and wind. the latter agency is certainly the more powerful of the two, when the atmosphere is above freezing temperature. our nights were always very frosty, but the sun had still sufficient influence during the middle of the day to moisten the surface of the ground. over a steep pass and down into another valley we joined the main road, which is now very broad and good. our march continued to be diversified by valleys and undulations, the scene constantly changing, and now and again opening out enchanting views of scenery, with every variety of rock and river, wooded hills and high mountain ranges tumbling on each other. the wind, that had blown bitterly cold all day, lulled at sunset; the sky continued clear, and we had a calm frosty night. halted at p.m. in _gurun-dsata_, a broad rich valley, with abundant grass, and supporting vast herds of cattle, which the clear moonlight revealed to us. the beauties of this spot were only fully discovered at sunrise the next morning, which being calm and fine, we were in the best humour to enjoy the rocky, woody, and pastoral scenes around us. it was plain we had got into a country altogether different from the mongol steppes. the valleys are all watered by streams, and the soil susceptible of high cultivation. we are now frightened with another bugbear, in the shape of an unfordable river, the _khara-gol_, or "black-river." it seemed we were destined to be delayed by every possible contrivance of nature, for these rivers are very rarely flooded. were it otherwise, some device would certainly have been found to meet the emergency. it was all the more hard, therefore, that these paltry little mongol rivers should get themselves up into such a state of fury just when we were passing through the country. during our march towards khara river, we struck the river _boro_, a tributary of the khara, which waters a fine broad valley containing the largest mongol population we had seen anywhere collected in one place. as we followed the course of the boro down the valley, we passed several apparently separate communities, all rich in cattle. a novel sight here met our eye, the cultivation of a coarse kind of rye, called by the mongols, _boota_. they were harvesting this as we passed, carting it to the yourts in a rough sort of wooden cart, and stacking it up. this seems to show that the mongols are not naturally averse to cultivation, when they are favourably circumstanced for carrying it out. some of their tribes, such as those in western toumet, mentioned by huc, do indeed systematically cultivate the ground. the sun had set before we got to the end of the valley, and we encamped in the evening not far from the left bank of the khara-gol, sending out the lama with a native of the district to survey a crossing for the morning. early on the th we advanced to the river at a place higher up than the usual ford. carts were unloaded, and the passage effected in the same way as the tolla, but, the river being much smaller, less time was lost in the operation. there is always a busy scene at these fords, particularly when a drove of cattle have to be got over. one poor man spent the whole morning in fruitless endeavours to drive half-a-dozen cattle through the river, but the neighbours at last came to his assistance, and led them through one by one. there was a steep pass before us, a few miles distant, and at a yourt near the khara four sturdy little yaks were engaged to get our carts over. a young lama courier, well versed in the russian language, whom we found in the yourt, where he had spent the night, afforded us no end of fun all the morning. he was a great wag, and affected to be a man of the world, travelling constantly as he did between the court of peking and kiachta. he chaffed our lama more than he liked, criticising his cattle, and offering to buy him out. as a specimen of how these couriers do their work, this young scamp had not only spent the whole night in a yourt, but waited in the morning for our party, and kept company with us till near mid-day. the pass is up a steep and rugged ravine, thickly wooded with white-skinned birch-trees. the trees do not grow to any size before they rot in the heart, and become hollow, when the wind blows them over. few of them have a proper trunk, but two or three strong suckers shooting up from the root. it makes excellent firewood, but is unfit for any other purpose. in the ascent the view is entirely shut in by the woods, but on the top, near the _obon_, is a clear space, from which an imposing view is obtained of the hills and dales behind and before us, with the boro valley spread out at our feet. in the descent we plunge again into the thick woods, emerging at the foot into a long valley leading to _bain-gol_. this is a very small river, with soft, boggy ground on either side, very bad walking for camels. the river, like the others we had crossed, runs westwards and northwards. on the north side of bain-gol we halted from sunset till midnight, and at daylight entered another fine, long valley, through which runs the _shara-gol_, the "yellow," or "sandy river," for it may be translated either way. in this valley the grass grew more luxuriantly than we had yet seen. crowds of mongols were settled here, and the valley was covered with enormous herds of cattle. the people were busy cutting the long grass with scythes, which they handle very skilfully, and stacking it up round their yourts. this grassy spot was selected for wintering in, and is no doubt less populous in the summer season, when the grass is green and abundant in the country. a steep pass takes us out of this valley, but we still follow to the left the course of the river for some distance. we halted about o'clock, the lama having ridden to a distant yourt to buy a sheep. he could not bring it with him, but must needs return to our tent, and send tellig, who was a "black man," to fetch the sheep, thereby losing much valuable time. the lama notions on this subject are absurd in the extreme. they will not kill an animal, nor will they carry it to be killed. but they will bargain for and purchase the animal for the purpose of getting it killed, and they will eat it after it is killed, thus becoming "accessory after the fact," as well as before it. i never could understand the logic of this practical application of the doctrine of transmigration, for it always appeared to me that on the hypothesis of the soul of bhudda or any relative being in captivity in the body of a sheep, it would be a simple act of charity to release it by procuring the transmigration. it rained a little at sunset, but no gale of wind followed, as on former occasions. at midnight we proceeded over a stiff sandy pass, and got the carts through by putting an extra camel to each of them. this was followed by another stiff pass, a little sandy, but road pretty good, and so on through the night, till we descended about o'clock next day to the banks of the _iro-gol_, a smooth flowing river, yards wide, and ten feet deep. seeing hosts of caravans on both sides of the river we expected to have to "wait a wee" before we could get across, but were agreeably surprised to find a passage ready for us in a few hours. rafts made of hollowed trees lashed together transport the baggage, the camels and horses, unloaded, are led from the boats, and swim across. the current of the iro was about three miles an hour. the right bank of the river at the place we crossed is a great flat, but the left bank is hilly and well wooded, and apparently closed in by bluffs on the right bank above and below us, for the river is very tortuous. it forms altogether a very pretty valley. we had to spend a good many hours basking in the warm sunshine, waiting for all the force to get over. when the caravan was ready to start we induced the lama to ride ahead with us through _talabulyk_, taking a sackful of mutton to be boiled at some yourt ready for tellig and his friend when they came up. by this means we saved much time, and gave the mongols no excuse for another halt. one long march would bring us to kiachta, and we were the more anxious to lose no time, because a storm, or some other unforeseen event, might delay us again. we travelled hard all night over rough roads, through dense pine forests, and shortly after daylight we came out on a rather sandy open space, across which, at a distance of eight miles, tellig pointed out two white specks, informing us, with an air of triumph, that that was kiachta. they were two of the church spires that form landmarks for all russian towns. here we were, then, at last, on the th of september, at the end of a journey which had sometimes seemed interminable. thirty-four days in travelling miles! think of that, ye who fly about the country in express trains. of course the high russian officials who pass occasionally between peking and st. petersburg have a quicker mode of getting across mongolia. the post horses kept for the couriers are at their disposal, and by some pre-arrangement they have relays all the way, and so they travel in their own comfortable carriages from kiachta to peking in twelve days or so. chapter x. mongols--historical notes. a peculiar interest surrounds these wandering tribes of the desert. in them we see the living representatives of the ancient huns, and of the yet more ancient scythians. of them came attila, "the scourge of god," who with his barbarian hordes shook the foundations of europe in the fifth century, and accelerated the downfall of the old roman empire; of them came also the redoubtable warriors who desolated asia and europe six hundred years ago. the mongol tribes are exceedingly conservative in their habits; their fashions never change. a description of their manners in the time of genghis, or even of attila, is equally applicable now. everything goes to show that in the form of their tents, in their dress, their social customs, and their mode of life, the mongols of to-day have changed but little since they first became known to history. the early history of the huns is involved in obscurity. they appear to have existed as a pastoral people, inhabiting the east of the desert of gobi from about b.c., during which time they were frequently at war with the chinese. the first authentic accounts of them date from about the year b.c., when they greatly extended their empire, and became very formidable neighbours to china. it was in the third century before the christian era that the chinese built the famous wall as a protection from the inroads of the warlike huns, who, notwithstanding, laid china under tribute. vouti, of the han dynasty (died b.c.), gained a bloody victory over the huns, and was the first to break their power in china. he followed up his military success by the application of the craft for which his race was, even at that early date, distinguished. by diligently promoting dissension among the tribes he succeeded in severing many of them from their allegiance to the tanjou, the title then adopted by the kings of the huns. the tanjou himself became afterwards a vassal to the chinese emperors, and was fain to lick the dust for a dependent kingship. about years after the birth of christ, the huns were broken up and scattered. the huns of the south, who had previously seceded from the main body, and had established their dynasty in alliance with china, held together till the year a.d. the northern huns, being distressed by a great famine, were attacked by the tribes whom they had so long oppressed, and were compelled to seek safety in flight. from that era we must date the migrations of the hunnish tribes. they were again subdivided. one branch wandered to the coast of the caspian sea, where they settled, and became modified in their character under the influence of a more genial climate; their nomad habits were gradually abandoned; and they became civilised. these were called the white huns. another branch migrated in a north-westerly direction, and in their march had to contend with a more rigorous climate. exasperated by their struggles with the elements and with many enemies, they retained all their savageness in their new settlement on the volga. these restless warriors had barely secured their own existence in the west, when they began to attack their neighbours. after conquering the alani, a nation only a little less barbarous than themselves, and adding to their own forces those of the vanquished tribes, the huns became the terror of the goths, and these also fell a prey to the invaders before the end of the fourth century of the christian era. but the power of these wandering tribes was always liable to be paralysed by the jealousies of rival chiefs. their notions of government were crude; hereditary succession was held of little account among them. the huns were only formidable to their neighbours when they were under the leadership of chiefs who possessed sufficient vigour to rise pre-eminent over all others, and the talent or the craft to secure to themselves absolute power. attila was one of these. the huns were already in the ascendant when he came to the throne; but his genius, energy, and insatiable ambition soon rendered them the terror of all europe, and himself the greatest barbarian that ever wielded the sceptre. attila had a body-guard of subject kings. his effective force has been variously estimated at half-a-million and at seven hundred thousand men. he enriched himself with the spoils of all nations; yet in the height of his barbaric pride he retained in camp the simple habits of his ancestors. having subdued every hostile tribe within his reach, and incorporated their armies with his own, he threw the whole weight of his forces on the corrupt and degenerate roman empire, which was brought to the feet of the conqueror and compelled to accept conditions of peace the most degrading that the insolence of the invader could dictate. desolation everywhere followed the march of attila, for destruction was ever the glory of the barbarians. as the old huns lived by predatory warfare, so the hosts of attila were actuated, only in a higher degree, by the savage instincts of wild beasts. but their power only held together while there was food for pillage, and a master mind to direct their enterprise. and thus their reign of terror in europe was of brief duration. a heavy debauch cut short the career of attila, and he died an inglorious death in his own bed from the bursting of an artery. the empire of his creation collapsed after his death amid contending factions; and in a.d. , just fifteen years after the death of attila, the empire of the huns was utterly destroyed, and their name disappeared from history. the shepherds tended their flocks in the steppes of tartary, and years passed away before another chief arose to summon the scattered tribes to his standard. during that period sundry insignificant dynasties succeeded each other on the outskirts of the chinese dominions. the turks also appeared in the interval, and established a formidable power, which lasted from the sixth to the eighth century. they issued from the altai mountains, where they had served the geougen tartars who had overwhelmed the huns after the death of attila. the turks, or turki, reduced the geougen, and, it is said, almost extirpated them. these turks have been supposed to have been identical in race with the huns who preceded, and the mongols who followed, them.[ ] but there is much reason to doubt their consanguinity.[ ] the great skill in iron working for which the original turks were distinguished, seems sufficient to mark a difference between them and the ancestors of the pure mongols. they shaved the beard also in token of grief, and were considered by the persians handsome men.[ ] the huns and mongols had almost no beard, and in the eyes of all writers who have thought it worth while to describe their persons, they were remarkable for their deformity. [ ] de guignes. hist. des huns. [ ] memoirs of baber. erskine's introd. [ ] un hist. vol. iii. p. . it would, however, be a hopeless task to unravel the descent of the various races miscalled tartars. the old chinese records have preserved little more than the catalogue of kings and battles, and of the rise and fell of dynasties. the tartar powers that have successively risen up in asia have never been composed of a homogeneous race. their names, even have generally been taken from some small tribe or family which accident rendered prominent; and the names tartar, turk, and mongol, have been perpetuated and misapplied to armies and confederations of mixed races. the wanderings of these mixed tribes, the dissolution of empires which arose among them, and the reconstruction of these empires under new combinations, have constantly tended to the amalgamation in blood and language of races distinct in origin, but following the same nomadic habits. their mode also of dealing with prisoners of war, and the conditions which they imposed on conquered nations, conduced still more to the fusion and confusion of races. it was unusual with the huns or mongols to spare their prisoners, unless they could employ them either as slaves or soldiers, or make profit by their ransom. the men were massacred, and the eligible women were appropriated by the conquerors. a supply of women was exacted as tribute from subject states. this gross indignity was ruthlessly imposed on the chinese; and "a select band of the fairest maidens of china was annually devoted to the rude embraces of the huns."[ ] these practices must have tended greatly to enhance the perplexity of ethnologists in attempting to analyse the masses of men who, by the vicissitudes of war, were from time to time assembled under one standard, and received the name of the dominant family. [ ] gibbon, vol. iii. p. . when the huns appeared in europe, however, they were portrayed by the goths and romans in graphic but distorted terms. through the haze of these hideous caricatures,[ ] and the fabulous origin which fear and hatred attributed to the huns, we cannot fail to identify in them the form and features of the modern mongols. whatever be the descent of the numerous turki tribes, and whatever changes may have been brought about by intermixture, change of climate, &c., in the pastoral peoples, the great race of the mongols has in the main preserved its manners and its characteristics through all its revolutions and migrations, and has proved its unity in blood with the huns of attila. the mongols are certainly far from being a handsome people, but the romans, themselves models of symmetry, greatly exaggerated their deformity. the barbarians were esteemed so fiendish in their aspect, that the goths, to account for the phenomenon, were obliged to invent the fable of the descent of the huns from the unholy union of scythian witches with infernal spirits. they were inhumanly ugly. attila himself was hideous. yet that did not deter the young princess honoria from betraying, or feigning, a passion for him. that spirited lady, with a courage worthy of a better cause, found means of secretly communicating with the king of the huns, and urged him to claim her as his bride. [ ] ibid. p. . in the thirteenth century, genghis became khan[ ] of all the mongols, who under him were once more the terror of the world. genghis had already conquered the naimans, a powerful people in their day; and invaded tangout. when he had assembled under his standard the tribes of his own people and of the nations whom he had conquered, he was impelled by his restless ambition to keep them in motion. the lust of conquest became his ruling passion, and every new trophy added fuel to its flame. he first invaded kitai, or northern china, overran the territories of the then powerful kin, desolated their cities and villages, and massacred their people, and then retired to the river tolla to recruit, having added to his army many chinese of all ranks. the seven years' campaign in the west followed shortly after, during which genghis conquered persia and bukhara, destroyed many populous cities, and put to the sword prodigious numbers of human beings. his lieutenants extended their ravages still further westward, while genghis himself returned to his head-quarters at kara-korum. kitai was again invaded, and tangout subjugated. on the death of genghis, in , the succession to the khanate fell to his son oktai, who followed up the conquest of china according to instructions delivered by genghis on his death-bed. but the empire had become so unwieldy, and the distances that separated the divisions of it so vast, that it could no longer subsist in its integrity. it was soon split up into sections, which were parcelled out to the descendants of genghis. some reigned in persia, and some in kapchak, a territory stretching from the caspian sea to kazan, and covering a large portion of the steppe of the kirghis. the little dynasty of the nogai tartars was also founded in europe by a descendant of genghis. the tartar kingdoms of kazan and the crimea were both offshoots from the khans of kapchak. batou, khan of kapchak, or the golden horde, took moscow and wasted the russian provinces. kublai, who succeeded to china, was the greatest of them all. in addition to that country, he possessed pegu, thibet, and the whole of tartary; while cochin china, tonquin, and corea paid him tribute. he was, moreover, acknowledged by all the other khans as their chief. but the whole continent of asia lay between him and his vassals, and his suzerainty soon became a name only, and in course of time the form also was discontinued. [ ] the title of khan was first assumed by the geougen, in the fifth century. the mongols were, however, incapable of maintaining a settled government. the expeditions to subjugate japan having proved fruitless, there was no other country left for them to conquer; this quiescent state was unnatural to them, and chinese culture demoralised them in less than a hundred years. russia was held by a tenure more suitable to the nomad habits of the mongols. armies had to be maintained, and the khans of the golden horde found occupation in keeping down the russian princes. they therefore held their supremacy in europe, until they did the work of their enemies by quarrelling amongst themselves, but their yoke was not finally shaken off till the fifteenth century. before the empires founded by the family of genghis had been wholly broken up, another great mongol conqueror appeared in the person of timour, or tamerlane. born under happier auspices, and brought up in contact with more civilised people, timour added to the native ferocity and the ambition of universal empire of his ancestors, the arts and some of the refinements of education. he was, moreover, a zealous mahommedan, and drew from the koran encouragements in his career of conquest, and excellent moral maxims which seemed in strange contrast with his life. in a military point of view, timour's life was a brilliant success. before his death he placed twenty-seven crowns on his head; he conquered india, and boasted that he had penetrated northwards to the region of perpetual day. his conquests outstripped those of alexander. "on the eastern bank of the hyphasis, on the edge of the desert, the macedonian hero halted and wept; the mogul entered the desert, reduced the fortress of batnir, and stood in arms before delhi."[ ] he captured delhi, and "purified his soldiers in the blood of the idolaters." timour, when he was seventy years old, resolved to re-conquer china, from which country the family of genghis had been recently expelled. he despatched his armies from samarcand for the expedition, but he himself died on the way, in , and his empire fell to pieces through the incapacity of his sons. [ ] gibbon, vol. ix. p. . timour had perhaps the honour of shedding more blood than any of his predecessors; but, like them, he was incapable of governing what he had conquered. his boast that a child might carry a purse of gold from the east to the west, could be justified only on the supposition that he had pacified asia by making it a solitude. he was considered a usurper by the mongols of his day. he made war on his own people because they were idolaters; yet the modern mongols worship him, beguiling their long evenings in their tents by chanting invocations to his memory. the next great mongol who left his mark on the world was timour's great-grandson baber, who conquered delhi in , and founded there the dynasty of the great mogul. but baber was ashamed of his descent, and despised the mongol character. it was probably to his throwing off the barbarism of his ancestors, that his family owed the permanence of their indian empire. the last scion of this royal house died in misery at rangoon, in . on the disruption of the mongol empire, founded by genghis, and built on by his successors, the tribes who composed it were dispersed far and wide over europe and asia, from the great wall of china to the volga and the black sea. their dynastic divisions were numerous, but the mongol blood was soon lost in many of these. the khans were often followed into conquered territories by a small proportion only of their own race, sometimes by a few families, and sometimes by a few individuals only, their armies being mainly composed of alien elements. these handfuls of men soon lost their national characteristics under the influence of a settled life, and contact with races better trained in the arts of peace. the numerical superiority of the people among whom they lived, must necessarily have absorbed them; and it would be hard now to trace the mongol blood in the descendants of the tartars of the crimea, of kazan, of nogai, or of kapchak. the homogeneous race of the mongols may now be divided into the kalkas, the kalmuks, and the bouriats. the kalkas, who take their name from a small river rising in the siolki mountains in manchuria, are a numerous people, occupying the north of the great desert. they may be called the mongols proper, if any are entitled to that name. the kalmuks, so nicknamed by the mahommedan tartars, inhabit the russian province of astrakhan. a remarkable exodus of these people took place in - , on which occasion half a million of the kalmuks of the volga fled from the tyranny of catherine ii., and directed their march eastward by the route by which their ancestors had so often travelled to europe. during their eight months' pilgrimage they were goaded to despair by hunger, weariness, and savage enemies; and when they at last found shelter in the dominions of the emperor of china, they had been reduced to half their number. the emperor kienloong allotted to them a settlement in the province of dsungaria, on the north-west of the desert. the eleuths on the south-east of the desert are also of the race of the kalmuks. the black kalmuks are settled near the sources of the river obi, north of the altai mountains. the bouriats in the siberian province of trans-baikal, although of true mongol origin, do not appear to have been much mixed up in the military movements of the other tribes. they were nevertheless a warlike people, were subdued by the family of genghis in the thirteenth century, and made a respectable stand against the russians in the seventeenth. there are other tribes of mongols within the modern limits of china proper, though north of the great wall. some of these till the ground, but they are principally kept up as the reserve army of china. from the earliest times, these wandering tribes, when not united in a crusade against the human race at large, were constantly at war with each other. these feuds were continued with varying results for several centuries after their empire was broken up; but the adroitness of the chinese on the one side, and the brute force of russia on the other, have subdued the turbulent spirit of the mongol hordes, who for the last hundred years have been quiet subjects of these two empires. the mongols, kalmuks, and bouriats are all bhuddists, while the other tartar tribes, with whom the mongols have been associated in their wars, are almost all mahommedans. the history of the wars of the huns and mongols exhibits some curious psychical phenomena. first, we see these barbarous tribes, living in the most primitive condition, ignorant of everything beyond the range of animal instinct, vanquishing in fair fight the most warlike and civilised nations that then existed. by the weight of their masses, and the impetuosity of their onslaught, stimulated by the ferocity of fanaticism, the barbarians broke in on the old empires, which they overwhelmed like a flood. civilisation bowed the neck to barbarism: matter triumphed over mind. and yet the materials of which these formidable hosts were composed were in themselves feeble and innocuous. when we see the descendants of the huns quietly feeding their sheep in their native deserts, harmless and kind-hearted, simple and contented, it is hard to conceive that out of such a race could have come the conquerors of the world. their power indeed was a matter of pure accident, that is to say, it lay dormant until accident raised up men with ability to use it. the shepherds have little power of reasoning, and no notions of self-government; but they are willing machines in the hands of a man of strong intellect, who can exact from them the worship due to a divinity. under such a leader they can be handled like a pack of hounds, with which they have a close affinity in the instinct of obedience and unreasoning courage: animal qualities which are invaluable to the schemes of the master-mind. the heroes of the mongol tribes have been few and far between. the marvel is that such a people could produce heroes at all. their great conquerors were not men of ordinary ability, but of vast genius, rendered all the more conspicuous by their untutored barbarism. none but great minds could have controlled and directed the movements of such multitudes. the words of the khan were inexorable laws; without the ruling spirit nothing could be done. china was saved from a second conquest by the accident of the death of timour; and it has been said that the fate of europe at one time depended on the digestion of a barbarian under the great wall of china. nor were the mongol leaders animated by blind ferocity. they had an object in their wars, which was nothing less than the sovereignty of the world. their courage was high, and they occasionally fought desperate battles. but that was not their usual custom. attila, and genghis, and timour, all showed remarkable caution. they calculated the chances of a battle or a campaign with the deliberation of experienced generals, and declined engagements against heavy odds when they could effect a retreat without discouraging their troops. attila, the rudest of them all, was a skilful diplomatist. he penetrated into gaul, not so much by force of arms as by the craft he displayed in playing off one faction against another, and so distracting the counsels of his enemies. the secret of the ascendency of the mongol chiefs lay mainly in the skill with which they used the potent instrument of superstition. the shepherds, illiterate and brutish, had a blind awe of the supernatural, which it was the policy of their leaders to encourage. attila became miraculously possessed of the sword of the scythian mars, and thenceforth bore a sacred character which was confirmed to him by his early successes. a divine origin was attributed to the ancestors of genghis. he was styled the son of god, and was popularly believed to have been born of a virgin.[ ] the turks traced their descent from a youth who was nursed by a she-wolf, a fable probably borrowed from that of romulus and remus. [ ] gibbon, vol. iv. p. , and note. the kings of the huns and mongols excited the enthusiasm of their armies by the use of omens. when unfavourable to their plans, the omens were either disregarded or explained away by the chiefs, who were probably incredulous, but at all events possessed the resolution to rise superior to the oracles. thus when attila had raised the siege of orleans, and was pressed in his retreat by a powerful army of goths and romans, the auguries were against him, and his troops were dispirited. but attila, considering that a defeat would be less disastrous to him than flight, rallied the sinking courage of the huns by an eloquent oration, in which, with consummate ingenuity, he turned the very advantages of the enemy into encouragements to himself. their well-chosen posts, their strict alliance and close order, he affected to attribute to fear alone. he plied his people also with arguments from the doctrine of fate, and persuaded them that they were as safe in the thick of the fight as in their own tents. in the desperate battle which ensued, attila outdid himself in personal valour, and the huns fought furiously; the slaughter on both sides was prodigious; but when night came attila was fain to retire within his camp. the result of the action was nevertheless creditable to his sagacity, for he was still so formidable in defeat that his enemies compared him to a lion at bay, and they dared not renew the attack. timour, who lived in a more enlightened age, or rather among a more enlightened people, and was himself educated in mohammedanism, rose to a higher flight in the use and contempt of auguries. instead of examining the entrails of animals, he consulted the planets and the koran. when marching on delhi his astrologers could not educe any favourable indication from the stars, but timour refused to hamper his plans by such considerations, telling his astrologers that fortune does not depend on the stars, but on the creator of them. the huns and mongols were distinguished from other men, chiefly by their waste of human life. they may be said to have depopulated asia. the flourishing cities that once existed in the deserts of tartary have been utterly destroyed; the history of many of them has been lost; and where large populations cultivated arts and industry, one may now see only the tent of a herdsman in the vast solitude. the savages boasted that grass never grew where the feet of their horses had trod, and that a horse might run without stumbling over the places where the great cities had stood. the conquerors built towers and pyramids of the heads of their enemies, that is, their prisoners--not soldiers only--but whole populations whom they massacred in cold blood. but yet, though ferocious, the barbarians were not, strictly speaking, cruel. their systematic slaughter must be otherwise accounted for, and in a way even more humiliating to human nature. the morality of the kings, khans or emperors may be assumed to have been on a par with that of the people; it was in intellect only that they were pre-eminent. attila, in the midst of his sins against mankind, was accessible to pity. his own people loved him. genghis aspired to the honour of a wise legislator, and primitive though his code was, his motives for devising it were honourable. he encouraged trade so far as he knew how; patronised the sciences, and favoured the missionaries of all persuasions. he was both just and generous, and if he had but governed, instead of killing, the people he conquered, it is possible that he might have been a benefactor to mankind. yet, in three cities alone, genghis caused more than four millions of people to be slaughtered. but the strange paradox comes out in more vivid colours in the character of timour, who, compared with his predecessors, was civilised and humane. amongst his exploits was the massacre of one hundred thousand people at delhi. he exacted from ispahan a contribution of seventy thousand, and from bagdad of ninety thousand human heads to build towers with. although a mahommedan he did not spare his co-religionists, but slew indiscriminately all who seemed to stand in his way. when he grew old, and was satiated with blood and glory, he repented. but his repentance was the most curious episode in the monster's history. he planned a pious mission to china, and in announcing his resolve to his council, he told them that the conquests he had made were not obtained _without some violence_, which had occasioned the death of a great number of god's creatures. to atone for past crimes he determined to perform some good action, namely, to _exterminate the idolaters of china_.[ ] [ ] un. hist. vol. v. p. . by what law or standard of ethics can such an abuse of the moral faculties be judged? and how can such antagonistic traits of character be reconciled? the mongols did not practise the cruelties that have so often disgraced more refined peoples. tortures were exceptional among them, perhaps because their invention had not risen to such a pitch. noble captives were paraded in chains, but that was done rather to glorify the victor than to punish the victim. the mongol massacres seem to have been dictated less by positive than negative considerations. their low estimate of the value of human life lay at the bottom of it all. the slaughter of the population of a great city was no more in their eyes than the destruction of so many vermin. their towers of human heads were to the primitive barbarians what the trophies of the chace are to sportsmen. being guided by animal instincts alone, they were unconscious of any wrong. so low is the moral condition of uncultivated races, "the children of nature," that human feelings can only grow in them after ages of gradual education. the social virtues, and even the natural affections, are only developed in their full force by means of artificial or civilised life, just as the perfectability of plants is only attained by the aid which art gives to nature. so, then, the artificial state is in a sense more natural to man than the natural or primitive condition of savages. his moral nature needs culture as much as his intellect does; and artificial life alone can bring out man's natural qualities. the affections of the huns and mongols were little more than such as they possessed in common with the lower animals. they loved their children after a fashion, and sometimes they loved a favourite wife. but if we desire to test the quality of the paternal affection of such people, let us look at the half-tamed barbarian peter the great, who condemned and executed his own son, after inviting him to surrender under the promise of a full pardon. the theory has been advanced that the exclusively animal diet of the shepherds rendered them ferocious,[ ] and that their familiarity with the blood of their sheep excited their passion for the blood of their fellow-creatures. but neither of these hypotheses is founded on fact. the elaborate cruelties of the vegetarians of china and japan supply a sufficient answer to the first. the chinese have racked their ingenuity to multiply tortures, and a fat rice-eater will sip up his tea and fan himself with perfect _sang-froid_, while he causes the nails of a victim to be pulled out. when their blood is up the chinese are as savage as the mongols, and by so much the more cruel as their superior intellects supply to them varieties in the enjoyment of their blood-thirstiness. [ ] "il est certain que les grands mangeurs de viande sont en général cruels et féroces plus que les autres hommes. cette observation est de tous les lieux et de tous les temps; la barbarie anglaise est connue."--emile de rousseau. gibbon, iii. p. . to the second observation it may be replied that the professional butchers are not the least humane class of civilised society; their occupation does not impair their human sympathies. a wild beast may be excited by the taste of blood, but it is merely from the instinct that impels him to seek his natural food. the brutalising influence of war itself is well known. to this rule there are few exceptions. even among christian nations, in whom the degrading tendency is counteracted by education and social culture, the hero of many battles is but too apt to value his men at so much per head. barbarians, with no controlling power to check the natural bent of their passions, exhibit the full dehumanising effects of war. they glory in the mere shedding of blood, as a hunter delights in the death of his game. yet this savage passion is far removed from simple cruelty, and may be quite compatible with a low form of goodness of heart. although at first sight the simple life of pastoral peoples does not seem likely to produce a race of warriors, yet the very simplicity of their habits peculiarly adapts them for warlike enterprises. the incentives to war would not be wanting to wandering tribes with no fixed boundary; for they would be constantly invading each others' pasture grounds. hence, the habits of predatory warfare would be induced. their hardiness and endurance would enable them to sustain the fatigue of long marches, privations and exposure. such a community needs no commissariat. their food is the flesh of their cattle or horses, which, being accustomed to eat grass only, can always feed themselves on the way. their tents might even be dispensed with, and the ground would serve them for a camp. their indifference to life renders unnecessary any provision for the care of the sick or the wounded. they are not hampered in their movements by any tie to localities. the whole world is alike to them. their life in war, involving the long marches and countermarches which wear out other troops, was little different from their ordinary habits in peace. their enthusiasm made them formidable. their ignorance rendered them unscrupulous. they destroyed the noblest monuments of learning and industry with the same wantonness that prompts a child to pull to pieces the finest piece of mechanism. they set no value on anything, and it was a pleasant recreation for them to destroy what they could neither appreciate nor understand. the spoils of civilisation allured them to new conquests. victory inflated their fanaticism. defeat subdued their spirit for the time, but they had always a retreat open in the deserts of asia where they were at least safe from the retaliation of the civilised nations whom they had oppressed. in their career of devastation they were often stimulated by necessity. when their earlier successes had attracted great numbers to the victorious standard, it was impossible to maintain the vast multitude stationary. first, their pastures would soon become exhausted; and, secondly, their leaders could only maintain their own character and their ascendency over their followers by active operations. the alien troops, who entered largely into the composition of their armies, were always ready to secede from their forced allegiance. any symptom of weakness or incapacity in the chief would be the signal for a general disruption. out of this necessity for perpetual motion doubtless arose the mongol vision of universal empire. the military enthusiasm in the mongols is only dormant, not dead. we have seen, four or five years ago, with what alacrity sang-ko-lin-sin, himself a kalka mongol, and one of the forty-eight kings, brought a force into the field to bar our entrance into peking, and with what zeal and energy the mongol troops acquitted themselves. given a sufficient motive, and a man to lead them, and the shepherds could soon be put in motion again. by nature they are faithful to their chiefs, and their head lama has but to hold up his finger to stir up the sleeping prowess of the shepherds. nor is it likely that the sanguinary passions, common to barbarians, have been eradicated in the mongols. quiet and peaceful as they are among their flocks, they would be as fierce in war as in the bloodiest days of their history. chapter xi. mongols--physical and mental characteristics. the following physical characteristics of the mongolian race, by a gentleman who resided many years among the bouriats in trans-baikal, are equally applicable to the tribes in mongolia proper, and to some extent also to the chinese. "the high cheek-bones; the oblique, elongated eye, dark and piercing; the flat nose, with compressed nostrils; the strong black straight hair; the large protuberant ears; the small sharp chin; the want of beard in the men, till late in life; the general gravity of expression, and cautious, inquisitive mode of address, are so many marks of this tribe of men, never to be mistaken, and never to be found so strongly developed in any other."[ ] [ ] scottish congreg. mag., dec. . there is nothing noble or generous in the mongol character, and those tribes who have afforded the widest field for observation, are said to be naturally servile to superiors and tyrannical to inferiors. their _meanness_ is remarkable. they are not too proud to beg the smallest trifle, and a man well blessed with this world's goods thinks it no disgrace to receive alms. the habits they have inherited qualify them admirably for the lazy nomad life which they lead. but they have no heart for work in the sense of regular, steady occupation. fatigue and privation they make no account of, but it goes quite against the grain with them to do a day's work. they sadly lack energy and enterprise, and are easily discouraged. the mongols proper are seldom tempted to leave the beaten track of their pastoral life, and even the bouriats, who live amongst russians, and have incentives to exertion, show little disposition to depart in anything from their traditional mode of life. the russian government has tried to make them farmers, but with very little success. every bouriat family is compelled by law to cultivate a few acres of ground. government supplies them with seed, generally rye, on condition that an equal quantity be returned to the government granary the following year, or its equivalent in money paid. they are subject to bad seasons in those regions. a backward, dry spring, with no rain before june, is of not unfrequent occurrence; in such seasons the crops don't ripen before the autumn frosts come, and the year's labour is lost. the seed corn must, nevertheless, be delivered back to the granary, and the bouriat agriculturist loses heart. the cardinal virtue of the mongol tribes is hospitality, which is as freely exhibited to perfect strangers, as to neighbours, from whom a return may be expected. indeed, the nomad life would be intolerable without this mutual good-feeling and readiness to assist, to feed, and to shelter travellers. the absence of trades, and of the amenities of settled communities, renders the mongol people mutually dependent, and hospitality becomes simply a necessity among them. at the pitching and striking of tents, at sheep-shearing and felt-making, the assistance of neighbours is required by all in turn. when cattle stray, the neighbours help to catch them. when a mongol is on a journey in the desert, he is dependent on the hospitality of the families whose tents he may pass on his way, and he will always be welcome. the mongols are also attracted to each other's quarters to hear news, or for the mere satisfaction of talking. in such a sparsely peopled country, this feeling makes a stranger all the more welcome. although rather addicted to petty pilfering, the mongols are, in a general way, honest. at any rate, they will not betray a trust committed to them. the fidelity of servants is universal, and theft, robbery, and assault, are of rare occurrence among them. their most prevalent vice is drunkenness; and, although drinking, and even smoking, are prohibited by the sacerdotal law, the living example of the priests is more powerful than the dead letter of the law. those mongols who wander to the frontier of china or russia, supply themselves with tobacco, and distribute it to their friends in the desert. every one carries a pipe with a small brass bowl, like the chinese. a steel and flint are invariably attached to the tobacco-pouch. the mongols also take snuff, using a stone bottle, with an ivory spoon attached to the stopper, after the chinese fashion. chinese liquor they use very sparingly, and only on great occasions of bargaining or merry-making. they use a spirit of their own very extensively, and as it is made out of milk, an article which is very abundant among pastoral people, their supply of the spirit is almost unlimited. they call it _ir'chi_, or in the bouriat dialect _araki_, a name applied by the mongols to all liquors indiscriminately. it is better known to europeans by the name of _kumiss_. the following account of the mode in which the spirit is distilled from milk is interesting: "the milk, previously soured and fermented, is put into a large iron kettle, over which is inverted a wooden dish, fitted to the edge of the former, and luted with cow-dung. one end of a bent wooden tube is inserted into a hole in the inverted dish, and at the other end is placed a cast-iron pot to receive the liquid as it comes over. when the fire has made the contents of the kettle boil, the vapour is condensed within the tube, and passes into the receiving vessel in the form of ardent spirit."[ ] the spirit is fit to drink whenever it is made, and as it is more than usually plentiful when the pastures are richest, that is the season of the greatest excesses. any sort of milk may be used, but mare's milk is said to make the most approved liquor. the mongols are inclined to be uproarious in their cups; and squabbles often occur, but they seldom come to anything very serious. [ ] scot. cong. mag., feb. . the morality of the mongols is about a fair average of that of the rest of mankind, perhaps purer than that of more civilised countries. their customs admit of polygamy, but it is too expensive to be very common, as each wife has to be in a manner bought of her father for a certain number of oxen, horses, or camels. they have a strong objection to marrying within their own families, or tribes, considering all the descendants of one father or head of a tribe as brothers and sisters, however distant their actual relationship may be. "so universal is this custom," says the writer already quoted, "that i never knew or heard of an instance of its being violated." the lamas are all celibats, but seeing this class numbers one fourth or one fifth of the male population, it might safely be predicated of them that their vows are not strictly kept. as a matter of fact, the celibacy of the lamas is in very many instances a merely nominal thing. the lama may not marry, but he can take to himself a "disciple;" children will be born to him in the natural course of events, and no great public scandal will be excited thereby. hence a standing joke among the laity is to ask tenderly for the health of mrs. lama. the mongol women are childishly fond of small ornaments for their hair. any kind of tinsel, or small glass ware, is highly valued by them. before marriage, the women wear their hair disposed in plaits which hang straight down. ornaments of coral, or other articles, are suspended from the plaits. after marriage the hair is collected into two thick ties, one at each side, falling down over the front of the shoulders, and adorned according to the fancy or means of the wearer. they wear a kind of tiara round the head, which is ornamented with coral, glass, strings of mock pearls, or any kind of gaudy trinkets they can pick up. they also wear sometimes, instead of the ordinary cap, a coronet of soft fur, fastened round the head, and projecting over the brow, which gives them, at first sight, a rakish appearance. the mongols, one and all, evince great regard for decency in their dress and habits. their inner garments consist of cotton trousers, tightly fastened by a scarf round the waist, and a long flowing robe of the same material. these are generally of blue. the long sheepskin is kept in reserve for night-work, or cold days. they never appear uncovered outside of their tents, even in hot weather. in this respect they contrast remarkably with all other natives in hot climates with whom i am acquainted. in physical development, the mongols do not rank very high. they are in stature below the middle height, but moderately stout. short necks are common, but many thin, scraggy necks are also met with. they do not get corpulent like the chinese. they look healthy and robust. their muscular energy is rather low, which may be due to their avoiding all regular work, and partly perhaps to their exclusively animal diet. wrestling is one of their favourite amusements, and the trained wrestlers are proud of their skill in the art. a square-built lama challenged me to wrestle with him at tsagan-tuguruk. there was a great concourse of people present, and to have declined the contest would have been as bad as a defeat. i therefore determined to risk the trial. i soon found that being totally ignorant of the art, i had to act solely on the defensive. after some ineffectual attempts the lama threw me. i had a firm hold of him, however, and we both came down together, the lama under. having come out of the ordeal better than i expected, i had no wish to try another round, and the lama also had enough. it was my turn to challenge then, and considering that the honour of my country required it, i offered to box my antagonist, which honour he respectfully declined. this incident exhibited to me the muscular weakness of one of the best-made men i met among the mongols. but their weakest point is their legs, which are rarely exercised. the mongols begin from their earliest years to ride on horseback. if they have but to go a few hundred yards, they will ride if possible, in preference to walking. they walk with the gait of a duck; indeed, were their legs good--which they are not--the heavy shapeless leather boots they wear would prove an effectual bar to walking. these boots come up near the knee, are made of nearly uniform size, so that the largest feet will go easily into any of their boots. thick stockings are also used, and the foot has ample play with all that. they are nearly all bow-legged, a circumstance that might be explained by their constant habit of riding, or by the pressure that is put on them when infants to make them sit cross-legged, were it not frequently developed in children before the age when nurses begin to cross their legs. the phenomenon may nevertheless be the indirect result of both these causes. the habits of the tribes being fixed and uniform for many ages, the bow-legged tendency which these habits are calculated to produce, may have been gradually impressed on the race as a permanent feature, by the mystery of hereditary influence. thus the peculiarity, although originally accidental, would become permanent and constitutional. the mongol is rarely seen standing upright. he is either sitting on horseback, or crouching in a tent. the mongols are rather dark-complexioned; the face and hands, which are constantly exposed to sun and weather, are deeply bronzed; the skin is very coarse; the covered parts of the body are much lighter than the exposed parts, but among the men there is nothing like a white skin. the whitest of them are yellowish. during our ablutions the whiteness of our skins was a subject of constant remark among the mongols, although the skin of our faces became, by constant exposure to the sun while in mongolia, as dark as that of the mongols themselves. the mongols, nevertheless, have often a ruddy complexion, but it is uncommon among the men. the women are much fairer than the men, and are much less exposed to the sun, being mostly in the tents attending to household duties. their faces, although rough and weather-beaten more or less, have all a "roseate hue." old women frequently become pasty white in the face. their children are born fair skinned, and with brownish hair, which gradually becomes darker as they grow up. shades of brown are however not unfrequent even in adults, and a tendency to curl is sometimes observable. their eyes are seldom quite black, but run on various shades of brown. the white of the eye is usually "bloodshot" in middle-aged men, probably from two causes, exposure to wind and weather, and the argol smoke of their tent fires. they live, without any inconvenience, in an atmosphere of sharp biting smoke, which our eyes could not tolerate. the small eyes of the mongols are shaded by heavy wrinkled eyelids, which, in many instances, are permanently contracted, giving the eye a peculiarly keen expression, as it peers out from under the mass of soft muscle that surrounds it. this feature is entirely absent in children, and is no doubt produced in adults by exposure to glare and the habit of straining after distant objects in a dry sandy country. the almost entire absence of beard is a remarkable feature in the mongolians. as regards this and other marks of race, it may be useful to compare the mongols with their near neighbours the chinese. the two races have a sufficient number of broad characteristics in common to warrant their classification under one great type of mankind. but their differences are also well marked, and are deserving of attention. the northern districts of china are not very different from mongolia in point of climate. both have a short but hot summer, and an extremely rigorous winter, differing only in degree. both climates are dry. the northern chinese assimilate more closely than any other of their countrymen to the mongol habit of life. they eat animal food rather extensively, and drink strong liquor freely. yet in physical development they are further removed from the mongols in some features than even the southern chinese who live on rice, fish, and vegetables. in the matter of beards, which led to this comparison, the northern chinese are in a marked degree more hairy than their southern compatriots, and these again than the natives of mongolia. in none of them is the beard developed till towards middle life; yet they all attain the age of puberty earlier than europeans. the beef-eaters of northern china are tall, muscular, and robust, as much superior to the mongols as they are to their own countrymen who lead a different life. but with their animal diet the northern chinese eat copiously of vegetable and farinaceous food, while the mongols live almost exclusively on mutton. the regularity of habits which prevail in settled populations may also have its influence in the general physical development of the people. the nomads have certain qualities cultivated to excess, and others almost entirely unused. the animal instincts are naturally found highly developed amongst the mongols. the sense of sight is very acute in them; they are sensitive to indications of changes of weather, and so with various other instincts which to these wandering tribes supply the wants of a more artificial life, and enable them to exist in a state of nature. individuality is in a great measure lost among such people. the habits and education of each individual among them are identical. their pursuits are all the same. the very same faculties, both physical and mental, are kept in exercise among the whole tribe, and that through many generations, so that they have become hereditary, and indelibly imprinted on the race. a mongol who was not a good horseman would be as anomalous as one that was inhospitable. the uniformity of life among the members of these nomad tribes, while it keeps back many faculties, the exercise of which is necessary to the existence of civilised people, also renders the type of whole tribes constant, so that no one individual differs greatly in external features from another. in civilised communities, where the division of labour has become so indispensable as to be in itself one great criterion of civilisation, a variety of types are evolved even in a single lifetime. a tailor can never be mistaken for a blacksmith, nor a soldier for a sailor; but tribes whose habits compel each family to be independent, as it were, of all the rest of the world, whose wants are limited by the means of supplying them, and among whom different occupations are almost unknown, do necessarily present a remarkable uniformity. it would be unsound to generalise too freely, and there are of course the individual distinctions of physiognomy as well marked as among other races, but these differences are more limited in their scope. some trades are known to the mongols, such as felt-making, tanning and dressing skins, iron, copper, and silver work, saddle-making, &c. in more settled parts they also make harness, carts, and sledges; and printing from blocks, after the manner of the chinese and japanese, is also known among them. these arts are most cultivated among the bouriats in siberia, who, by their contact with the russians, and from the nature of the country they inhabit, are thrown more in the way of artificial life than the desert tribes. to the casual observer, at least, the mongols do not present the same individual differences as their neighbours, the chinese. in complexion they are nearly all alike, although the skin seems to get darker as the face becomes wrinkled with age, which might seem to favour the idea that the brownish skin of the mongols is due as much to their habits as to their descent, or the effects of climate. but the causes which influence colour are very obscure. in siberia, where sclavonic races have been settled for nearly two centuries, living side by side with mongol tribes, and exposed to the same climatic influences, these show no signs of variation from the complexion of their ancestors, as it is exhibited by their european representatives. again, the portuguese settlers in macao, who degenerate very rapidly, become in two or three generations much darker in the skin than the native chinese. it is not the smoky atmosphere of their tents that darkens the skin of the mongols, for in that case, the women, who are more exposed to it, would be darker than the men, the reverse of which is the case. a comparison with the japanese again would seem to show that exposure exercises at the most an insignificant effect in darkening the skin. the japanese live much within doors, and are careful to protect themselves from the sun when they stir abroad by means of broad-brimmed hats and umbrellas. great differences of complexion exist among them, whether regarded as individuals or classes; but it is safe to say they are on the whole quite as dark as the mongols. the contrast between men and women is singularly marked, the women having fair clear complexions, often rosy. yet the japanese women are a good deal out of doors, and are fairer skinned than the chinese women, who are only blanched by confinement to the house and exclusion from light and air. the mongols, although deficient in muscular energy, and incapacitated for sustained activity, are nevertheless gifted with great powers of endurance. i have already noticed their capacity for enduring prolonged fasts, and their ability to go several days and nights without sleep, with equal impunity. the sudden and important changes to which their climate is subject, are also borne without any great suffering. from a hot summer, they are plunged, with but slight gradations, into an extremely rigorous winter, when the temperature falls very low, and is accompanied by keen cutting winds, that sweep over the steppes with merciless fury, and from which they have no better protection than their tents. the mongol tribes stand low in the scale of mental capacity. scattered over vast deserts, remote from civilised man, they are ignorant by necessity. their intellectual faculties have no stimulus to exertion. their aims in life, and their whole worldly ambition, are limited to flocks and herds. while there is grass enough to feed the sheep, and sheep enough to feed the men, they have little else to disturb their quiet equanimity. thus they lead an idle careless life, free from thought and everything that might disturb the negative happiness they enjoy. this kind of existence is truly a low form, having more affinity with the animal than the mental side of human nature, while at the same time it is to be observed that they are almost entire strangers to the varied emotions that fill up the existence of a civilised being; so that both their intellectual and moral qualities are dwarfed and partially destroyed. the prostrate mental condition of the people predisposes them to the domination of superior minds, and when their highly superstitious tendencies are considered, it is not surprising that they are among the most priest-ridden races in the world. it is not easy to say why these people should be more easily imposed upon than others, excepting that ignorance is always found to go hand-in-hand with this mental weakness. the wild solitary life of the desert is also, no doubt, eminently favourable to belief in the supernatural and mysterious. a man who frequently passes days and nights with no society, except the howling waste below, and the deep blue sky above, has his imagination set free from the trammels of the world of fact. he has no resources but in the spirit-world, and it is not unnatural that his fancy should people the air with superior intelligences, whose voices are heard in the desert winds or the rustling leaves of the forest. under these conditions of life, the poor nomads are in a proper frame of mind to become the thralls of any one who will undertake to interpret for them the spiritual mysteries on which their imagination runs riot. the lamas fill this office, and are treated with unbounded respect by the masses. the religion of the mongols is bhuddism, a superstition which numbers more votaries than any other existing religion, true or false. but the fact is, they are bhuddists only in name; that is to say, the laity are almost wholly ignorant of the doctrines of bhuddism. even the lamas have but vague and confused ideas about it. their prayers are conned by rote, and these priests are generally ignorant of the thibetan language in which they are written. the mongol religion may indeed be called lamaism, its leading doctrine being faith, implicit and absolute, in the authoritative teaching of the lamas, and that not in any well-digested system of belief settled and fixed by the united wisdom of the sect, but in such interpretation of spiritual matters as any individual lama may choose to give. the gods are deified lamas. the dalai lama of thibet is a god incarnate, as is also the lama king of the mongols; and even the ordinary lamas, whose name is legion, are considered as off-shoots from deity in a sense that entitles them to the worship of common mortals. the abstruse doctrines of the metempsychosis and the future state, are studied by the recluses who live in the retirement of the great monasteries, and spend their time in prayer and meditation. but the every-day lama, although he carries a pocketful of musty papers, in which the eighteen hells and twenty-six heavens are elucidated, cares little for these things. he has more practical matters to attend to than meditating on the bhuddist notion of bliss consummated by absorption into bhudda--complete repose--in other words, annihilation. his written liturgies are a powerful spell by which he maintains his moral influence over the people, and it is none the less powerful that neither party fully comprehends their meaning. more regard is paid to the quantity than to the quality of their prayers, and to facilitate their devotions an ingenious machine is in common use, consisting of a roller containing a string of prayers. this is sometimes turned by hand, and sometimes it is attached to a windmill! so long as it is turned round by some means, the efficacy of the prayers is considered the same. no doubt it is. the petitions are long-winded and multifarious. the following, from one of the lama liturgies, is a specimen: "from the fear of the king, from the fear of robbers, from the fear of fire, from the fear of water, from the fear of loss, from the fear of enemies, from the fear of famine; of thunder, of untimely death, earthquakes, thunderbolts, of the king's judgment, of the tengri, of the loo, of wild beasts, &c., keep me and all men in safety." [ ] [ ] first-fruits of a mission to siberia. cape town. . the general drift of their religious observances is towards securing immunity from the "ills that flesh is heir to," rather than towards providing for a future state. both objects are aimed at, but the materialistic greatly preponderates. medical knowledge is of course at a low ebb among these wandering people. the lamas are their physicians. when a child or a horse is taken ill, the ignorant people are taught to believe that an evil spirit is present, which can only be exorcised by the incantations of a lama. in every doubt and difficulty a lama is consulted. he is at once a detective officer, justice of the peace, priest and physician. his blessing is at all times efficacious. his power over disease is unquestioned. there is virtue for good or evil in all his acts. his authority to declare what is right and what is wrong is never doubted. the punishments he may inflict for violation of his precepts are borne patiently. in a word, the lamas are the beginning and the end, at once the ministers and the objects of religion to the simple mongols. their persons are held sacred, and they wear a sacred dress consisting of a red cotton garment with a collar of black velvet, and a cap of peculiar shape. their heads are shaven all over, which is a sufficient distinction from the laymen, who shave the head only in front of the crown, wearing a tail like the chinese. wherever a lama goes he is received with open arms, and assumes the place of honour in any tent which he may deign to enter. the priestly tyranny of these functionaries opens a wide door to the most heartless knavery, and dishonest lamas who oppress and eat up the people are very common. were the lama order restricted to one class of people, it is possible their victims might rise in rebellion against their assumption of authority. but the lamas are drawn from every tribe and household. the second son of every family is generally set apart from his birth as a priest. in childhood and youth he is regarded as a superior being in his parental tent. the place of honour is assigned to him from the time he is able to sit cross-legged. when an opportunity offers, the little devotee repairs to a monastery, where he may learn the thibetan characters and the rudiments of the lama prayers. great numbers of lamas reside permanently in these monasteries, which are supported by contributions from the people, or endowed by the emperor of china. the lama unattached receives no pay, and has therefore to support himself, as the rest of his countrymen do, by feeding sheep and cattle. his special services are paid for according to his cupidity or the wealth of his employers. many of them grow rich on the spoils of their deluded votaries. some others, of ultra-nomadic proclivities, keep no cattle and own no tents. they simply roam about where fancy directs, and live on the people whose tents they pass. these are not much respected, but are, nevertheless, hospitably entertained wherever they go. the spread of bhuddism eastward over mongolia, china, and japan, the deep hold it has taken on the people of those countries, to the extinction almost of pre-existing superstitions, are most remarkable phenomena. looking at the degenerate form of the religion that has sprung up in mongolia, and the ignorance of the people, tending strongly to adherence to the dogmas of their fathers, it seems wonderful that bhuddism should have had vitality enough to supersede the ancient shamanism. the bhuddistic doctrines, involved and obscure as they are, certainly filled up a blank that must have been felt even among the most unthinking races, for shamanism had no reference to a future life. in this respect bhuddism is more elevating than shamanism, and when first introduced into a new country, it was probably in a purer form, and untarnished by the many abuses that have grown out of it in its subsequent history. among the bouriats, shamanism was almost universal as late as one hundred and fifty years ago. up to that time it was the only superstition known to the northern nomads. the shaman worship was directed to the material heavens and heavenly bodies--fire, earth and water, wild beasts and birds, and the malignant spirits of the air, called tengri. its ritual consisted very little in prayers, but mainly of animal sacrifices. some curious facts connected with the shaman superstition are given by mr. swan in the "scottish congregational magazine." as a preventive against cattle being killed by lightning, a horse is devoted to the god of thunder--light grey or white being preferred. he is brought to the door of his owner's tent, and while the shaman ceremonies are going on, a cup of milk is placed on his back. when the ceremonies are concluded, the horse is cast loose, the milk falls, and the animal is thenceforth sacred. no one may use him again, and, when he dies, his tail and mane are cut off and twisted into those of another horse, who, from that time, also becomes sacred to the god of thunder. they also had a ceremony of a scapegoat, which in its details coincided most singularly with that of the levitical institution. the shaman offerings usually consisted of three animals sacrificed at once--part of the flesh was eaten, and the rest, stuck on a pole, was consumed by crows or magpies. another strange practice of the shamans, and one which is common also among the lamas, betrays the intellectual imbecility of the people who could tolerate and be deceived by it. to exorcise the evil spirit out of a sick person, an effigy of straw is made, and clothed in the garments of the patient. the priests proceed to kill the man of straw, then convey it away and burn it. the unsophisticated devil is supposed to be watching these proceedings, and to mistake the effigy for the sick person; so that when it is destroyed, this most accommodating spirit considers his own malignant purpose accomplished, and at once leaves the sick person, who thereupon recovers. it is even said that human victims are used for this purpose by the rich in mongolia and thibet. the shamans were simply sorcerers. their ceremonies were wild fanatical ravings, and their ranks were usually filled by persons of diseased brains. the people generally were reluctant to become shamans, and a severe illness was often held to be an intimation to the person affected of the desire of the spirits that he or she should become a "medium." the bouriats learned bhuddism from the mongols, their kinsmen. about the beginning of the eighteenth century a mission was sent from siberia to thibet. the members of it returned as lamas and brought the paraphernalia of the new religion with them, built a temple, and set up bhuddism. the shamans were then gradually superseded by the lamas in the districts of trans-baikal--sacrifices gave place to prayers--and a purely materialist superstition to one which recognised the necessity of providing against a future existence. when, and under what circumstances, the mongols proper embraced bhuddism, is not so easy to determine. the chinese received it in the first, and the japanese in the sixth century of the christian era; but it does not appear to have been known to the mongols before the time of genghis. it was probably during the wandering career of the hordes under his leadership, that the lamas insinuated themselves into influence over the untutored shepherds. the higher culture which they had acquired, even by their partial education, would mark them in the eyes of the rude tartars as a superior order of magicians; and their ascendancy over the mongol intellects would be natural and easy. there are traditions of lamaism in the district of the ortous before the time of genghis, but as that part of the desert had frequently been incorporated with china, the existence of bhuddist monasteries there is not inconsistent with the supposition that the mongol tribes became bhuddists only after the wars of genghis. it would appear that mohammedanism also was introduced into china by means of the armies of genghis, which traversed asia in every direction from the great wall of china to the volga. the bhuddism, or lamaism, of the mongols, serves the important purpose of binding the tribes together by one common bond of union. the adoration they are taught to pay to their dalai lama is such as to give that personage a power over them greater, probably, than is exercised by any crowned head over his people. the dalai lama is the pope of the mongols. he is a valuable ally to the chinese emperor, and would be a dangerous enemy. when russia comes to carry out any aggressive design in mongolia, the great lama of the kalkas will be the instrument used; and the consular establishment at urga, if it succeeds in gaining over the lama king to the russian views, will not have been kept up in vain. to conciliate this dignitary the chinese emperors liberally endow monasteries, and support and encourage lamaism in every way possible;--but the russian emperors will find no difficulty in securing the attachment of the lama when their plans are matured. the mongol people, though in a sense slaves or serfs to their chiefs, really enjoy every liberty. they pay tithes to their lords of the produce of their herds, but there is no exaction, and no apparent discontent. the forty-eight chieftains enjoy the chinese title of _wang_, _i.e._, prince, or king, and though tributary to the emperor, they receive from him more than they pay. their allegiance is, in reality, purchased by the chinese court, and they are certainly faithful to their salt. chapter xii. kiachta. as we approached the russian frontier we reflected on the savage condition in which we had been living for so long, and were not without some anxiety as to how we should brook the glimmering of civilisation which we might expect to find, even in that remote corner of christendom. it was also uncertain what reception we would meet with from the russian officials, for although we had every reason to anticipate cordiality and friendly assistance, still political complications in europe might have altered the relations of either of our respective countries with the court of russia, and difficulties might possibly be raised. i had not forgotten the advice of a russian official, high in the confidence of his government, to defer my journey till more tranquil times. while indulging in these vain surmises, a smart shower of snow diverted our attention to other matters. the chinese town of maimachin has first to be passed through. it is surrounded by a modern palisade, and looks mean enough externally, but improves vastly on acquaintance. the streets are regular, wide (for china), and tolerably clean. the houses are solid, tidy, and tastefully decorated, with pretty little courtyards, and ornamental screens for their doors, &c. the chinese settlers have evidently improved by contact with the russians, for the style of their houses in maimachin, where the chinese are only sojourners away from their own country, is superior to what one usually sees, even in fashionable cities in china proper. the _yamun_, or government office, is at the far end of maimachin, and is presided over by a mongol. beyond the yamun is an open square, which is considered neutral ground between russia and china. on the russian side of the square we pass through a gate and are in kiachta, under the wing of the great russian eagle, which we see paraded everywhere over our heads. the black and white posts, said to have been a pet fancy of that miserable pedant, paul petrovitch, that offend the eye everywhere in russia; the elegant houses with white-washed walls and red or green roofs; the gorgeous churches with tall tapering spires; and the wide streets, with nobody in them, are all taken in at the first glance through the gateway, and establish it beyond doubt that we are really in the territory of the czars. with little trouble we found out mr. pfaffius, commissary of the frontier, an office established in lieu of the governorship which had been abolished. the commissary received us in a very friendly manner, gave me some letters that had overtaken me from china, files of the "times" newspaper up to the th of august, and finally, to my great joy and comfort, announced that he had instructions from his superiors to facilitate my journey homewards, in consequence of an application from lord napier to the authorities at st. petersburg. nothing could be more satisfactory, and we had only now to get lodgings and make ourselves easy for a little. kiachta itself is but a small place, and contains few inhabitants, except the commissary and his dependents, and the russian merchants who are engaged in the china trade. the general population lives at troitskosarfsk, which is a good-sized town, about two miles from kiachta. thither we proceeded with our caravan, and soon fell into comfortable quarters by the kind assistance of my countryman, mr. grant. the day was wearing on, and our mongols were in a hurry to get back to their grazing-ground. the camels were soon relieved of their burdens, but we could hardly realise that they were now unloaded for the last time in our service. the lama called us to count over the packages, and see whether everything was right; he then received the balance of his contract money, and was off. we did not charge him the forfeit he was liable to for the four days' over-time. tellig received a small present, which gratified him beyond measure, for he never considered that he had done anything to lay us under an obligation to him. we really felt sorry to part from our mongols, especially the faithful tellig, and we could not help commiserating them as we thought of the severe season they had to pass on those dreary steppes, so intolerable in september, that one would suppose flesh and blood could not withstand the cruel cold of winter. they had in view a return cargo from a chinaman in maimachin, and, after a few days' rest, they would probably be on the march again towards the great wall of china. they had no intention of laying up any part of the winter, that being in fact their busiest season, and they would be in kiachta again about december. what a miserable life it seems to live day and night almost on the back of a stinking camel! and yet these people, in the midst of hardships, are as happy as the day is long. one of our first objects of inquiry at kiachta was a russian bath, which we found in the house where we lodged, and anything so exquisitely luxurious i never experienced, burdened as i was with a month's sand and dust, which we had no efficient means of getting rid of in the desert. the mongols, indeed, never attempt to wash themselves, being only too glad to get water enough to boil their mutton and make their tea, and that is generally carried from a considerable distance, for a yourt is never found very close to a well. i never could get an explanation of this, but presume it is so ordained by law, to prevent any one family from monopolising a well. although the mongols do not wash at all, they did not look so dirty as we did after twenty-four hours travel,--either the dust does not stick to them, or it does not show on their darker-coloured skins. anyhow, it does not inconvenience them, and all the purifying i have seen them attempt is a rough wipe they occasionally give to their greasy mouths with the skirt of their garment, either calico or sheepskin. we were agreeably surprised to find so much refinement in this outpost of siberia. the houses are mostly large and comfortable. all are built of wood, and mostly of round logs dovetailed together at the ends, and caulked with moss, giving them a massive warm look, even from outside. those of greater pretensions are faced outside with planed wood, painted white, which, with their red or green painted roofs, give a cheerful air to the whole place. the churches are a great ornament to the town. they are all three built of brick, and white-washed, the tall cupolas being painted green. the streets are well kept, which is not difficult to do, seeing that the ground is dry, and there is no great traffic to cut up the roads. several of the streets are provided with wooden side-walks, which are very agreeable to the feet where the planking is sound, but in many places it has given way, exposing dangerous pitfalls to nocturnal or inebriated pedestrians. every russian above the rank of a _moujik_ (peasant) drives in some sort of a vehicle; and there are all sorts in kiachta, from the droshkie, pure and simple, drawn by one or two shaggy siberian ponies, to the luxurious carriage of "the swell," mounting a coachman, and perhaps a footman in livery, and drawn by two well-bred showy little horses from the west. the russians never ride for pleasure or exercise; in this respect resembling the chinese, who never ride, walk, dance, or do anything that they can afford to pay some one else to do for them. a few of the kiachta notabilities, who have been put under strict regimen by their doctors, certainly may be seen in the afternoon taking a constitutional, closely muffled up in their fur over-coats, which they hug round them with both hands, greatly impeding the free movement of the limbs. fast walking would, however, probably be considered derogatory to the dignity of their station. these solitary and sombre-looking figures, covered up to the eyes, look like assassins, and the imagination can easily picture to itself a dagger concealed under the ample folds of the cloak as they pace slowly along in the dusk on the open road between kiachta and troitskosarfsk. the russians generally have a lurking consciousness that they are but half civilised, and they are quite aware that they are so esteemed by the rest of europe. hence they are at unusual pains to maintain punctiliously the external forms of civilised life, mistaking the husk for the kernel. the tailors and milliners of kiachta are as particular, and their customers perhaps more so, about getting the latest parisian fashions, as their contemporaries in the most fashionable towns in europe or even america. a morning visit in a shooting-coat to a merchant in kiachta would grievously shock his sense of propriety, and if such an outlandish garb were to meet the ultra-refined eyes of his wife, the probable consequences to her delicate system are too serious to contemplate, albeit she is "fat, fair, and forty," and will challenge you in champagne on a proper occasion till all is blue. i had the misfortune to be the innocent cause of an alarming attack to a gentleman, who was civil enough to call at an unexpectedly early hour in the morning, by appearing before him in slippers and a chinese sleeping-dress. the apparition paralysed him for two minutes, nor did he entirely recover his equanimity during the interview. it is this mistaken notion of what constitutes civilisation that induces the well-to-do russian to wear expensive furs, simply because they are expensive, and to drink english bottled porter, not because he likes it, but because it costs twelve shillings a bottle. in the streets and in the bazaar (gostinnaidvor) a strange mixture of races is seen. the hairy, greasy, drunk-when-he-can russian moujik; the small-eyed cunning russian shop-keeper; a sprinkling of fine, dirty, rough-looking bouriats, a tartar tribe subject to russia; a few mongols who have business,--for their authorities, instigated by the chinese government, are jealously watchful of their crossing the frontier,--and a few astute chinese, the most business-like of the whole crowd. the merchants of kiachta are mostly reported to be enormously wealthy--several millions of roubles are not considered too much to ascribe to the most prosperous of them. these great fortunes are doubtless for the most part mythical, and as mammon is devoutly worshipped here, and the russian "swell" has no qualities but wealth to recommend him to the respect of his countrymen, their reputed millions are merely a figure of speech, by which the public mean to express their appreciation of character. that the kiachta merchants are, on the whole, wealthy, there is no doubt, and the most approved means for attaining that desirable condition seems to be to fail periodically. on those occasions the gentleman makes a journey to nijni-novgorod and moscow to see his creditors,--offers them fifty kopeks in the rouble or--nothing. the composition is accepted for various reasons: first, because it would be too much trouble to dispute it, and secondly, because the said creditors have made a good thing out of the connection, and hope to do so again. all this being satisfactorily arranged, the merchant starts afresh in the old line, having in the meantime added "house to house, and field to field." i would not be supposed to insinuate that this is a common practice in kiachta, but some instances were pointed out to me of croesuses who had passed through the ordeal more than once, rising higher in public estimation each time, as their worldly prosperity increased. large profits are made, or rather have been made, in the kiachta trade, both with china and the west of russia. almost every merchant has a shop either in the bazaar at troitskosarfsk or in kiachta, and their principle in business is rather to do little with large profits, than to accept smaller profits with a greatly extended trade. they don't seem to try to undersell each other, but rather combine to tax the public heavily for all the necessaries of life. the prices of nearly all articles in the shops are extravagant, even allowing for the expensive carriage their goods have to bear from the great distances most of them have to come. were they to be content with such profits as would be considered ample in any other civilised country, they would place the necessaries of life, and even luxuries, within the reach of a vast number of people whose means do not at present admit of expensive indulgences, and thereby increase consumption to an extent that would in the long run bring them in greater aggregate profits than they now realise, and indirectly add to the general prosperity and well-being of the place. for one bottle of porter they now sell at three and four roubles, they would sell ten at one-and-a-half or two roubles; and so with other things. but the russians have no notions of expansion, and the merchants are far behind the government in commercial enlightenment. the recent measure of opening the russian sea-ports to the import of tea direct from china, has utterly disconcerted the kiachta people, who looked on the overland tea-trade through siberia, with its sure snug profits, as part of their inheritance; and bitter complaints are heard on all sides at such an arbitrary interference with their prerogative. they considered themselves to have a vested right to supply the russian people with dear tea for ever. the chinese of maimachin are likewise reputed wealthy, and no doubt they are, to judge by their portly figures. this is considered a sure sign of prosperity in china, where rolling in wealth, and rolling in fat, are often considered synonymous terms. i have, however, known the criterion prove frequently fallacious. the chinese merchants of maimachin live there without their families, and consider themselves as mere sojourners, although many of them spend the best part of their lives there. they have an unconquerable aversion to moving their families from the spot where they and their fathers were born; and even within the bounds of their own country they rarely migrate for good from one district to another, unless driven to such a step by some potent cause, such as a visitation from the "rebels." the russians and chinese are peculiarly suited to each other in the commercial, as well as in the diplomatic departments. they have an equal regard for truth, for the russian, spite of his fair complexion, is at the bottom more than half asiatic. there is nothing original about this observation, but it serves to explain how it is that the russians have won their way into china by quiet and peaceable means, while we have always been running our head against a stone wall, and never could get over it without breaking it down. the russian meets the chinese as greek meets greek: craft is encountered with craft, politeness with politeness, and patience with patience. they understand each other's character thoroughly, because they are so closely alike. if some matter has to be negotiated, it is quite understood that each begins as far from the subject as possible: much conversation takes place on both sides; many pipes are smoked, and many cups of tea sipped, while they are beating about the bush. they receive each other's statements for what they are worth, that is, not as being intended to convey any definite signification, but as merely put in for the purpose of concealing their real purpose and to smooth the way to the object in view. of course much valuable time is lost by this circumlocution, but it is a matter of apparent indifference to either party whether the negotiation is concluded in one day, or three days, or three weeks. they prefer their own way of dealing, and don't understand any other. when either russian or chinese meets a european, say an englishman, he instinctively recoils from the blunt, straightforward, up-and-down manner of coming to business at once; and the asiatic either declines a contest which he cannot fight with his own weapons, or, seizing the weak point of his antagonist, he angles with him until he wearies him into acquiescence. as a rule, the asiatic has the advantage. his patient equanimity, and heedlessness of the waste of time, are too much for the impetuous haste of the european. this characteristic of the russian trading classes has enabled them to insinuate themselves into the confidence of the chinese; to fraternise and identify themselves with them, and as it were make common cause with them in their daily life; while the european holds himself aloof, and only comes in contact with the chinese when business requires it,--for all the rest, a great gulf separates them in thoughts, ideas, and the aims of life. the russians and chinese are equally low in their tastes; intellectual and manly recreations are equally foreign to them, while eating and drinking, play-going and gambling, are the congenial amusements of both alike. i have been told that the russian merchants of kiachta, when they wish to treat each other to something worthy of a highly cultivated mind, order a chinese dinner in maimachin, a feast that most europeans would rather undergo the incipient stages of starvation than come within the smell of. but in this and other things the russians pay tribute to the superior civilisation of the chinese, all the more genuine that it is unconsciously done. that the chinese are the more civilised of the two, i am thoroughly convinced. their notions of civilisation certainly run in a different groove from those of christian nations, but it is a spontaneous growth, and genuine of its kind. but the russians, after all that they have borrowed from their western neighbours, remain barbarians at bottom; and their living in large houses, and drinking expensive wines, serve merely to exhibit, in more striking colours, the native barbarism of the stock on which these twigs of a higher order of life have been engrafted. this does not, of course, apply to the educated gentlemen of russia, the _nous autres_, who constitute a higher caste, and who have been largely leavened with foreign blood, but only to the middle and lower ranks. there is no middle class in russia, as we understand the term, but there is a pretty large number of merchants who have risen from the condition of serfs, many of them very rich, and who must be taken to represent the middle class, but between whom and the gentlemen in uniform there is as impassable a barrier as between a merchant in japan and a daimio. the chinese far outstrip the russians as a nation of shopkeepers, and in commercial matters generally have more enlarged and liberal ideas. much of this is due to the non-interference of government with trade. the restrictions of shops to one locality in russian towns has its advantages and disadvantages; but the licence fees required for admission to the guilds, and for permission to open a shop in the bazaar, are so onerous as to exclude that class of small shopkeepers who are the life and soul of chinese cities. the largest building in kiachta is called the custom house, but it is no longer used as such, all duties on merchandise having been recently abolished through the enlightened exertions of the present governor-general of eastern siberia, who has done much to develop trade in his government. and truly the whole of that inaccessible region, including the amoor provinces, is so ill-favoured by nature in its geographical position, and so thinly inhabited by a race who have had all enterprize ground out of them by centuries of oppression, that it is only by coaxing and nursing that prosperity can ever take root and flourish. the old custom house is now occupied by the chief of _postes_ and some other government officials. it is situated on an elevation above the town and at the far end of troitskosarfsk, at as great a distance as possible from the residence of the commissary of the frontier, who holds his court at the opposite extremity of kiachta. having much business to transact at both these places, we hired a droshkie by the day at two roubles, an old shabby looking machine, very groggy on the springs, with two wild half-broken ponies tied to it with ropes, and an unkempt _moujik_ on the box. in this turn-out we rattled along the dusty streets of kiachta, passed by everything we saw excepting costermongers' carts. i felt very small, perched on the old rattle-trap, and had it not been for the "honour of the thing" i would infinitely have preferred walking or riding, but that was not to be thought of in a russian, and especially a siberian, town. our reputation was at stake. kiachta lies snugly in a hollow between hills of sand and fir-trees, well sheltered from the northerly winds, and opening out southwards towards mongolia. a small rivulet runs through the ravine, which turns west through the sandy plain on the mongol side of the frontier, and falls into the general receptacle of the other rivers we had crossed. kiachta and troitskosarfsk are said to contain , inhabitants, who are pretty well supplied with provisions from the interior. great numbers of peasants' carts may be seen in the morning bringing in the products of their farms and gardens to market. all the common vegetables are to be had in abundance; good beef and mutton of course, though the russians, for some unexplained reason, eat very little mutton. the supplies for kiachta come from great distances, and the peasants start from their homes long before break of day. they generally hunt in couples, the man with his sheepskin coat hung on him, leading the horse and riding by turns, while the good-wife, swaddled up into a round bundle of clothing, and booted to the knees, sits on the top of the cabbages. a large square in the centre of troitskosarfsk is set apart as a corn and hay market, and is provided with sundry weights and scales sanctioned by the proper authorities. here the vendors of agricultural produce assemble, and generally manage to get rid of their stocks by an early hour in the afternoon. everything seems to be sold by weight in russia, but they can hardly carry this to the same extent as the chinese, who sell live chickens by weight, and by way of making up for any deficiency stuff their crops with sand, which adds an ounce or two to the aggregate weight, but produces death in a very short time. this trick used to be played off on masters of steamers, who thought to do a service to their countrymen at shanghae, where provisions were at famine prices, by bringing a few hundred fowls from other ports where they were to be had cheap. the mortality in the middle passage was so great, however, that the second day generally threw a very different light on the venture. kiachta is also well supplied with excellent fish, the sturgeon among others, from the river selenga, and it was here for the first time that we indulged ourselves in fresh caviar. in this town there is a public recreation ground within a neat enclosure, where ladies promenade in the afternoon to inhale the fresh air, or exhibit the latest thing in bonnets, for russians don't care much for air or exercise. some retired nooks there are in the enclosure, suggestive of love-making at a more genial season, but they looked dreary enough in september, with a hard frost on the ground, and snow on the neighbouring hills. the whole goes by the name of "the garden," and in the three short months of summer it may possibly show something to justify this appellation. the mere attempt at gardening under such difficulties as a siberian climate imposes, is creditable to the enterprise of the kiachtaites, and it were much to be wished that the sun would shine on their efforts. the severity of the weather drives those who have a taste for flowers to cultivate them in their houses, which they do very successfully. many of their rooms are like greenhouses, furnished round with large flowering shrubs in pots, very pleasant to the eye, whatever may be the effect of so much vegetation on human health. the plants are put out into gardens during the short summer, and withdrawn to the warm rooms when the chill winds give notice that winter is near. the climate of kiachta is very cold in winter, and pretty hot in summer. the air is very dry, soil sandy, and little or no rain or snow falls. it lies in lat. ° ', and at an elevation of feet above the sea. the population is reputed to be healthy, and old people of eighty and upwards are as lively as crickets. the houses are very comfortable, so far at least as warmth constitutes comfort, and in severe climates it is undoubtedly the first essential. the massive wooden walls well caulked with moss, which is said to be better and more lasting than oakum, are well adapted to exclude cold. they have all double windows a few inches apart, with the space between filled with cotton wool along the sill. the rooms are heated by large closed stoves or ovens, which are used for cooking as well as warming the house. in general, one stove is made to heat several rooms, being built into the corner presenting one face to each apartment. the great drawback in all this is the absolute want of ventilation, which was to us very trying and disagreeable, but the russians are accustomed to live in health in the close stuffy atmosphere of their houses. the temperature of their rooms is kept up to about + ° reaumur ( ° fahrenheit), and varies but little from that range. they use a great deal of firewood, which is cheap in the neighbourhood of those vast primæval forests, and in the yards of kiachta immense stores of this fuel are piled up for winter use. the russian manner of living was not quite suitable to us, although more regular than we had lately been accustomed to. they eat but one meal a-day, and that about twelve or one o'clock. the everlasting samovar fills up the morning and evening with its incessant bubbling and spluttering. much tea-drinking is calculated to take the edge off a ravenous appetite, and in addition to the fluid we were fain to eat all the little cakes that usually accompany the samovar, in order to tide over the long twenty-four hours that interfered between regular meals. the stock dish of the russians is a vegetable soup, with beef boiled in it. it is called _shtchee_, and is good or bad, according to the materials available for its manufacture, and the skill of the cook. our cook in kiachta was a lady of the mature age of eighty-two, who was justly proud of her attainments. the _shtchee_ is enough of itself to make a substantial meal, as the _bouilli_ is served up with it; but it is generally followed by a solid piece of roast beef. the bread is very good and white, but a strange custom prevails of putting black bread on the table along with the white, for the apparent purpose of showing off by contrast the extreme whiteness of the white, for no one ever touches the black when he can get the other. the real black bread is heavier, and as clammy as if potatoes entered largely into its composition. it is used almost exclusively by the peasants, and is doubly economical, being in the first instance cheap in price, and moreover a very little of it goes a long way, as it resists digestion as long as a hard-boiled egg. the black bread used by the well-to-do classes is a compromise, and is of a black-brown colour, known as _demi-blanc_. the kiachta community is for the most part permanent. the official portion of it is of course migratory, as the government _employés_ look for promotion to other regions, but some of them also settle down in kiachta and found families. many of the merchants also move westward, or intend to do so, but the whole substratum of peasants, artisans and tradesmen is a settled population. they talk little of petersburg and moscow, and when they do, it is with a kind of distant awe, as if these holy places belonged to a higher world. irkutsk is the centre of their thoughts, the pivot on which they move. whatever is defective in kiachta is sure to be found in perfection in irkutsk; the best hotels, horses, carriages, doctors, houses, churches, shops--everything--are there. a journey to irkutsk is not an unfrequent occurrence, but a journey to moscow is something to be talked about on every convenient occasion for the remainder of one's life-time. the town was founded in , as an _entrepôt_ of the caravan trade with china, and to that alone does it owe its importance. tea has always been much the largest item in this trade, and although kiachta must continue to command the trade between china and eastern siberia, the direct importation of sea-borne teas to the baltic ports cuts off an important source of prosperity from kiachta. the mercantile community have, up to last year, endeavoured to compete with their rivals, and pushed into china to purchase the tea in the same markets; but the conditions of the trade are so much altered that they are deprived of their former facilities for bartering russian produce, and in other respects the caravan trade is too heavily weighted ever to compete successfully with the long sea route. even in russia, wedded as the masses are to prejudice, common sense must gain the day in the end, particularly where roubles and kopeks are in question. we did not grudge ourselves a few days' rest at kiachta, considering we had accomplished the most tedious part of the journey, and henceforward would get over the ground as fast as horses' legs could carry us. but no such luck was in store for us. the first news we had from the commissary and others, was that the whole country between the shores of the baikal lake and kiachta was inundated by the flooding of the river selenga. it seemed that our adverse fortune was to follow us along the whole journey. we need not have been surprised, however, at the intelligence we received of the condition of the selenga, since into it all the rivers we had crossed in mongolia discharge themselves. the post from europe was long overdue, and no news had been received from the baikal for ten days. we were constrained perforce to remain quiescent until the waters should subside, and a day or two after our arrival a courier who came with the missing mail reported a slight improvement in the communication, he having succeeded in carrying the mail in small boats from station to station. our time was not, however, misspent, for we had a number of preparations to make for our journey. in the first place we had to exchange our chinese silver into russian paper money. we were prepared of course to lose on this operation, but were agreeably surprised to find we had got off with only about one per cent. for one tael of sycee we received _r._ _kop._, which, at the then value of three shillings to the rouble, gave us _s._ - / _d._ for our tael, which was worth roundly _s._ _d._ we had then our ponies and carts to dispose of, and my pony was quickly sold for ten roubles, of which my share was eight, that is twenty-four shillings for what cost thirty-two,--so far so good. but, when we came to offer the carts for sale, difficulties presented themselves. no one had ever heard of such articles being sold in kiachta. this seemed strange, for the chinese--if not the russians--use no other conveyance in their frequent journeys to china. the carts are made only in china, and therefore ought to be at a premium in kiachta. but the russians were not to be reasoned with in this way, but maintained that it was hopeless to attempt to sell our carts, and we abandoned the idea. we happened, however, to mention the subject to some chinese in maimachin, and having persuaded them to come to troitskosarfsk, and see the articles, we concluded a bargain, on the eve of our departure, for sixty-five roubles, about half what they cost. it was necessary to our comfort to purchase a tarantass, or large travelling carriage. it was possible to travel without one, using the _kibitka_, or small carriage, provided at the post-stations; but that mode of travelling involved the annoyance of changing at every station, which, with our huge amount of baggage, would have been intolerable. we had some trouble to find a tarantass, and when we had got one it was not quite what it should have been--indeed we should have done better to have used the post kibitkas as far as irkutsk, and bought a tarantass there, where we would have had a better selection. in maimachin we purchased some goat skins, with hair twelve inches long. these we had sown together into a sack for each of us to put our legs into when sitting in the carriage; a very simple contrivance, well worthy of the attention of all travellers in those regions in cold weather, and which contributed in no small degree to our comfort on the road. the remnant of our stores, &c., tent, saddles, and such like, had to be abandoned in kiachta, and we could only make room in the tarantass for a little brandy, and some tins of bacon, and smoked tongues. hitherto we had trusted nothing to the chance supplies of provisions that might be found on the road; but now, being in a civilised (?) country, we depended solely on its resources, such as they were. we had no trouble with our papers in kiachta, and our luggage was never looked at; neither did we require to take out a russian passport, but merely had to get our peking ones viséd for irkutsk by the master of police, which formality enabled us to obtain from the chief of the posts a padaroshna, or pass for post-horses, which are entirely under government control. in addition to this, mr. pfaffius supplied us with a special pass, to give greater effect to the padaroshna, and to ensure us proper attention from the various station masters as far as irkutsk. this document was to be exchanged for a similar one, which we hoped to obtain from the higher authorities at the provincial capital. we experienced the greatest civility and ready assistance from all the russian officials with whom we came in contact in kiachta, and the bugbear of troublesome interference by the authorities vanished away. we soon got tired waiting for better news of the state of the roads between us and lake baikal, and determined to start on the th of october at all hazards. the steady frosty weather, with occasional falls of snow, gave us warning of winter, and of the uncertainty of getting our heavy carriage over half-frozen rivers. every day was important at such a critical season, and the motherly counsels of the good old lady we were living with, to postpone our journey till december, when the snow roads would be in perfect order, only made us the more impatient to be off. had we stayed another day we might have been tempted to give ear to these reiterated remonstrances against tempting providence by starting at such a time. some hours were occupied in loading our tarantass, for we discovered to our dismay that the machine, large as it was, was still too small for our baggage and ourselves. after several attempts to dovetail unwieldy boxes into corners and use up all smaller articles as broken stowage, we eventually succeeded, between the inside and the outside of the machine, to get everything on board, and with a severe struggle we squeezed ourselves in, horizontally, between the baggage and the hood of the conveyance. our padaroshna was for three horses, but when the driver brought them to be harnessed, and saw the load he had to drag, he at once protested against going with less than four. we felt that he was quite right, but to establish a character it was necessary that we should be firm at the outset. to have admitted the necessity for four horses would have exposed us to all manner of impositions at the successive stations, where our ignorance of russ would have placed us at the mercy of every ruffian of a postmaster. with great misgivings, therefore, we started with our three horses, driven by a bouriat _yemschik_. the tarantass is a strong roughly made four-wheeled carriage, placed on poles, which rest across the two axletrees. the poles are made of soft wood, but have some spring in them, and the tarantass is at least more comfortable on rough roads than a chinese two-wheeled cart. the hood comes well forward, and with an apron that comes up nearly to the top, and a curtain that can be let down from the front of the hood, the tarantass can be pretty well closed in. the "horses" are only ponies, a little over thirteen hands high, strong shaggy little brutes, full of beans and of great endurance. they are harnessed, or rather tied, to the vehicle, or, as the russians like to call it, the _equipage_, in the loosest possible manner. a stout steady one is put in the shafts without any traces, the collar being secured to the forward part of the shafts by strong leather bands. a wooden tree arched over the collar and fixed to the shafts by its two ends, has a bearing rein running from the top, and kept rather tight on the horse's mouth. a bell is also suspended from the top of this cumbrous-looking apparatus, which denotes to all whom it may concern that it jingles over a post-horse. the bell is an intolerable nuisance on the road, but it is of some use in arriving at a station to announce the important event to the station-keeper, who peradventure may be asleep. the other horses are attached by rope traces to the axletrees, or any part of the outside of the tarantass which may be available for making fast a rope. each horse is independent of the others, and any, except the middle one, may get off the road, kick, fall, or do what he likes, without disturbing the general equilibrium. the favourite number of horses in russia is three, which they call a _troilki_--they all go abreast, whether the number be two or six. everything about the "turn out" is of the loosest and rudest construction--the wheels have plenty of scope, and oscillate three or four inches on the axle, so as to be easily oiled. something is constantly going wrong--the wonder is that the whole arrangement does not break down on the road beyond the hope of remedy; but the russians are very clever at making shifts, and with the constant demands that are made on their resources, their talents are kept in full exercise. chapter xiii. kiachta to lake baikal. we got out of troitskosarfsk about three o'clock in the afternoon, for as we intended to travel as the russians do, night and day, it made no difference at what time of the day or night we commenced the journey. the first stage led us over rather hilly roads, in many places heavy with sand. the hills around have a sandy appearance, but after crossing the first ridge we opened out fine broken scenery with richly wooded heights. our _yemschik_, or driver, being a bouriat, we were able to converse with him in his mother-tongue, for though the bouriats grow up speaking russian, they preserve their own domestic institutions, and among themselves speak their own language, which, with some slight differences, is identical with that spoken by the mongols of the great desert. the first station we arrived at was ust kiachtinské, which is a fair-sized village of small wooden houses, with a very neat little church. we were prepared for all the horrors of a siberian post-station, but found instead a new station-house, well kept and scrubbed inside, warm and clean. it is twenty-three and a-half versts, or nearly sixteen miles, from troitskosarfsk. our doubts and fears regarding our ability to deal with russians, of whose language we were ignorant, awed us into great circumspection at this, the first point where we were left to our unaided resources. our first anxiety was to maintain our prestige among the russians, for, that failing, we should have been helpless indeed. the only sure way of saving our name under the circumstances was to decline all discussion, and as far as possible hold our tongues. this succeeded very well at ust kiachtinské--four horses were put to our tarantass, and no extra fare asked. the post had left that day, and the poor jades allotted to us had already performed one stage over very heavy roads, and were in no condition to drag our unwieldy equipage. our bouriat yemschik had not gone very far over the soft sand before he discovered this, and after exhausting all his persuasion to no good purpose, he sent a message to the station by a chance russian whom we met on the road. in answer to this a fifth horse was sent from the post-house. the yemschik resumed his efforts to proceed, and by dint of yelling, carressing, and whipping, we got along a few miles further. a nasty steep hill lay before us, and arrested our progress finally for the night. when the yemschik had bawled himself hoarse, and had goaded his horses to despair, he entreated us, first in russian, and then in mongol, to get out and unload the carriage. it was a cold dark night, and we were warmly wedged into the carriage in a way that if we got out we could never have readjusted our beds in the dark. finding us deaf to remonstrance, our poor yemschik took the horses out and let them graze--made a fire for himself of the end of a fallen tree, and waited patiently for morning. when daylight came we found ourselves in a thick wood, half way up the hill. an hour and a half was spent in unloading and getting the vehicle over the hill. after which we proceeded slowly to the station piravolofské, which we reached at o'clock. on the road we passed several villages, with some cultivated enclosures farmed by russians, who also keep a good many cattle. it was plain that we could not go on so heavily laden, for even if horses could draw our tarantass, the machine itself would certainly break down, and we should run the risk of being wrecked on the road beyond the reach of assistance. we therefore determined if possible to secure an extra carriage at piravolofské. to this the station-keeper demurred, and told us that with only one padaroshna it was impossible to horse two equipages. the pass from the commissary was efficacious in removing his doubts, and after expending all his eloquence in proving the impossibility of complying with our request, he quietly ordered a _kibitka_, into which we transferred a portion of our dead weight, and we went on our way rejoicing. the roads were rather sandy and a good deal up and down hill. at o'clock we passed paravotné station, where we had _shtchee_. we then proceeded by a good road up a long valley through which runs a tributary of the selenga. turning with the river into another valley to our left, we again encountered sandy and hilly roads. we soon struck the selenga, a fine deep river, running through a wide valley, hemmed in by steep and well-wooded hills. a ferry-boat which was in attendance carried us across easily, horses, carriages, and all. the people who manned the boat were russians and bouriats, some of them showing unmistakeable marks of mixed blood. the river had fallen about twelve feet by the marks on the rock. a few miles from the ferry lies the small, but rather pretty town of selenginsk. it has commodious barracks, one fine church, and some good houses. the station-master at selenginsk was an old, fat, consequential and surly fellow. his room was adorned with some poor pictures, among which was an engraving of catherine ii. the companions of his solitude were a wretched-looking girl, maid-of-all-work, and a small cur, trained to perform certain tricks before travellers, on whom it seemed to depend for its daily bread. this old fellow was too important a personage in his own estimation to allow us to pass without challenging our right to the two carriages, but by dint of holding our tongue we conquered his objections as effectually as if we had greased his palm with roubles. night was on before we got away from selenginsk. at o'clock we passed arbusofské, and at next morning we passed nijni ubukunské. a bitterly cold morning was the th of october. passed through a well-peopled valley, in good cultivation compared with what we had seen, though still far short of what it might be. the valley runs north-east to verchne udinsk, a considerable town. we did not go round by that town, but turned off at mohinski into a valley on our left, and struck the selenga again, keeping on the left bank of the river. we now began to experience the effects of the recent inundations. although the flood had abated very much, the water in the river was still high, and the flat banks were great marshes. the road had been almost obliterated by the flood, and new tracks had been struck out through the driest parts, over large boulders, deep holes filled with water, and heavy mud. the horses floundered, but struggled bravely, and the yemschiks vociferated for miles, through this impracticable compound of land and water. we were five hours in going sixteen miles. the valley narrows to a steep gorge through which the selenga forces its way under a shade of overhanging trees that almost conceals it from view. the river was running about four miles an hour, but so smoothly and silently, that the current would have been hardly perceptible but for the floating branches of trees borne on its surface. the scenery is most beautiful. the perpendicular walls of rock that form the gorge are thickly wooded with pine and birch, which, combined with the willows that grow in great luxuriance on the low banks of the river, and seem to stretch their branches almost across the water, give quite a tropical appearance to the valley. the road through the gorge is scarped out of the rock, and rises to a good height above the river. it is narrow in the parts which are entirely artificial, so narrow that in some places there is not room for two vehicles to pass. the grandeur of the scenery faded away before our eyes as we looked down from the height into the deep abyss below. the edge of the precipice is guarded by a rough, strong, wooden parapet, without which, restive horses and drunken yemschiks would inevitably be immolated by the score at this dangerous place. at p.m. we arrived at poloviné station, simultaneously with a number of other travellers from various quarters. the long interruption of travelling from the flooding of the country, had accumulated a great many on the west of baikal lake, and now they crowded on all at once. amongst our fellow-travellers were several government officers, and two loquacious poles from irkutsk. the station could not furnish horses for half of the number, and as we had all arrived together, it was a question who should get them. we required seven for our two carriages in the then state of the roads, and it was no small satisfaction to us to find that the postmaster assigned to us the precedence. the government officers made no remark, but simply ordered the samovar to make tea. the russian travellers also took it very quietly. but the two poles were not so easily appeased. we could glean a few words from the volleys of abuse with which they indulged themselves, the gist of which was anathemas on the russian government, the postal system, and things in general, winding up with a threat to set up a "republic" in siberia. leaving our exasperated friends to digest the venom of their spleen, we rattled away over good roads along the left bank of the selenga, till we arrived at dusk at the post station of ilyensk, six versts short of the town of that name. the postmaster here was an old sergeant who kept house with his aged wife. she seemed to be a good sort of woman, for the house was in capital order, the wooden floor clean scrubbed, and the walls beautifully white. tables and chairs were in the like good trim, as were also the pots and pans and crockery. the sergeant received us with open arms, and was obsequiously civil. it is probable that the yemschiks who had conducted us from poloviné had passed the word to him of our being distinguished personages, whom all good postmasters delighted to honour. when the little man had acquitted himself of his bowing and scraping, he began to expatiate on the coldness of the night and the badness of the road that lay before us. the end of it was that he pressed us, with his most winning grimaces, to make ourselves comfortable under his roof for the night, and proceed at daylight next morning towards the baikal. we were but too willing to listen to the voice of the charmer, for experience had taught us that night travelling in siberia is no great luxury. having therefore satisfied ourselves that we should be in good time to catch the steamer on the baikal, which makes two trips a week, we resigned ourselves with a good conscience to the kind solicitations of our host. when supper was over and bedtime came, visions of russian vermin began to haunt us, and seriously disturbed our prospects of rest. the most careful scrutiny of the apartment, however, led to no discoveries of a disagreeable nature, beyond the shoals of small cockroaches which the heat of the room brought out in high condition. these animals are inoffensive enough in their habits, but restless, and ever on the move, running to and fro over the room and everything in it. they emit a fetid odour, which is the most unpleasant thing about them, particularly when you inadvertently crush them. but the close, oven-heat of the room itself was in my case a sufficient objection to sleeping there, and the tarantass was to me the more attractive dormitory of the two. indeed, when well wrapped up with furs, and only a part of the face exposed to the frost, the tarantass affords sleeping accommodation that might well be envied by a king, provided always there is no jolting over rough roads to disturb the sleeper. the jingling of bells at various periods of the night announced the arrival of other travellers, and in the morning we found that one party of russian officers, whom we had left drinking tea at poloviné, had come and gone without stopping at ilyensk. another party of merchants had arrived later, and were all ready to start again when we got out of bed. we were naturally, though perhaps unjustly, suspicious of the russians, and the first thought that flashed across our minds, on surveying our situation, was that we had been duped by the post-master into remaining all night at ilyensk in order to let the others get a clear start of us on the road. it was of the last importance to reach the shore of lake baikal, from which we were still ninety versts distant, in time to save the steamer, and in the bad state of the roads it was impossible for us to calculate the length of time we should require to travel the distance. the advantage we had been induced to yield to our fellow-travellers might prove fatal to our own success, for although horses would be kept for us at ilyensk, there might be a scarcity at the following stations, and our neighbours having the lead might take every available beast, leaving none for us. under such circumstances the old sergeant was regarded with very different feelings from those we entertained of him when we retired to rest the night before. he did not escape a fair quota of abuse, but he still protested that his intentions were honourable. great haste was made to get our horses in, and we had faint hopes of overtaking some of our friends. the road from ilyensk was good for fifteen versts, and quite level. beyond that it had been completely destroyed by the recent floods, and the country was full of lagoons. the bridges were washed away, and their _débris_ were scattered about over the fields. the main road was quite impracticable, and by-paths were struck out wherever the fancy, or topographical knowledge of the yemschik directed him. it was a wild chase for many weary miles, through great sheets of water, over high banks, and wide deep ditches, which were charged at full gallop, the lumbering machine being got over apparently by the sheer force of momentum. we then plunged into a dense forest where a lane had been cut out, leaving the stumps of the trees still sticking up. the ravines had been roughly bridged over with new-cut trees, overlaid with branches. this road, besides being as rough as wheeled carriage ever travelled on, was very circuitous, and our stage of twenty-four versts by the main road was stretched out to not much short of double that distance by the tracks we were compelled to follow. it says something, however, for the energy of the government, that the emergency should have been met so promptly. their postal communication had not been interrupted a fortnight before this new road had been cut through the wood, on the slope of a hill above the reach of inundation. changed horses at tarakanofské, a small miserable station, and at . reached kabansk, a neat town with a pretty church. here we dined, and proceeded at . . the high mountains west of the baikal were now distinctly visible. at the next station, stepné-dvaretské, the postmaster was a pole, a fine old gentleman, who was exiled under nicholas in . he appeared very anxious to talk about the affairs of poland, but we had not acquired enough russian to make conversation very interesting to either party, and besides we were in a hurry, and daylight was fast failing. the old fellow exulted in the expectation of foreign intervention in poland, and became radiant with delight when we revealed our respective nationalities. after leaving stepné-dvaretské we soon reached the shore of the lake, when we turned to the left, and followed the coast-line, through occasional thickets and wide lagoons, till we reached pasoilské, the terminus of the trans-baikal post-road. the station-house was full of travellers waiting for the steamer to cross the water. the fixed time of her departure was o'clock the next morning, and the crowd of travellers spent the night in the post-house. no beds, and few seats are provided at these places. men, women, and children roll themselves down on the floor indiscriminately, and sleep soundly through the incessant turmoil and noise that would make night hideous to nervous people. it is often impossible to thread one's way into the dormitory without treading on half the people who are sleeping among the bundles of clothing that cover the floor; but aggressions of that sort, being of common occurrence, are borne with stoical indifference. i slept as usual in the tarantass, and was lulled to sleep by the harmony of a howling wind, and the loud murmur of the waves of the lake that washed the sandy beach within a few yards of me. the selenga is formed in mongolia by the junction of a number of small streams south of lake kosgol, miles south-west from kiachta. it is afterwards joined by the orkhon, and its tributaries from the kinghan mountains. the length of this river has been computed at miles, which is probably near the mark. it is singularly rich in fish, among which is the sturgeon. the fisheries are a great blessing to the people who inhabit the valley, among whom fish forms a staple article of diet. the selenga falls into the baikal, by several mouths, about twenty miles north of pasoilské. that part of the coast would not be so convenient for the steamer to cross at, and would moreover make the crossing so much longer. but as the selenga itself is navigable, by properly constructed vessels, from its mouth to a point higher than selenginsk, the steamer route may possibly be eventually diverted to the river. the valley of the selenga is hemmed in to a narrow compass by mountains as far down as ilyensk. thence, downwards, the two mountain barriers diverge gradually, leaving a fine open valley, which widens to about forty miles on the coast of the lake. this valley supports a pretty large agricultural population, and the peasants seem all well-to-do. agriculture is certainly not in an advanced state, if europe be taken as a standard, but still a large portion of the valley is enclosed and cultivated; weeds are kept down; and stubble looks like stubble, and not merely grass of a different shade of colour from the surrounding pastures, which is the characteristic of the fields nearer kiachta. the soil is light, dry, and friable; furrows don't hold their shape. the crops are chiefly cereals--wheat, barley, rye, and oats. there is an immense tract of uncleared country in the selenga valley, only wanting hands to fell trees and bring the soil under the plough, to make this a rich and fertile region. the slopes of the hills are also capable of cultivation, but centuries will probably elapse before they are required. in the meantime, both hills and plains bear magnificent crops of timber, which will keep the siberians in fuel and building material for a thousand years to come. cattle are abundant, but under-bred and rather small. the milk cows are poor, which is singular considering that milk is such a valuable item in the subsistence of the people. they have a good hardy breed of sheep, which are nearly all black. pigs are also very common in the villages. they are a peculiar breed, very active, do not grow to any size, rather long in the legs, and bristly. their owners do not seem to feed their stock much, if at all, and consequently the animals have to follow their own instincts of self-preservation. they may be seen in the morning trooping it down the street at a steady trot, turning neither to the right hand nor to the left, until some edible substance arrests their attention. they are not very particular about what they eat, and they manage, by dint of rapid movements, to eke out a subsistence off the odds and ends to be found in the streets, and the roots they can burrow out of the fields. many of these siberian pigs are of a brown colour, which is uncommon in the porcine race. the dogs of siberia are of the ubiquitous breed which is common all over china, japan, and many other countries, and is nearly akin to our own collie dog. chapter xiv. lake baikal to irkutsk. the post-house of pasoilské was all alive at an early hour on the th of october. cart-loads of wood were piled on the fires. all the samovars were in requisition at once, and the company waited patiently, or impatiently, for their turn to come, for a russian is very useless until he has guzzled three or four tumblers of tea. the "postilions," as they call the soldiers who travel with the mail-bags, and other hangers-on, generally came off best. their instinct leads them to make friends with kitchen-maids, and the kitchen being their centre of attraction, it goes hard if they don't get their tea in good time. the kitchen was the only place where one could get a wash, which is a difficult operation to the unskilful. no basin is provided, but an urchin, or a robust maiden, holds a pitcher of water, the contents of which you receive by instalments in the hollow of your two hands, and with good management you succeed in getting a few drops to your face. while we were all stretching our necks to catch a glimpse of the steamer, every moment expected to heave in sight, an officer gave us the valuable hint that our tarantass could not be embarked at pasoilské, there being no boat there capable of conveying it to the steamer. this was unwelcome intelligence to receive at the eleventh hour, but it was confirmed by the post-master who, however, had told us a different story the night before. the "shipping port" was nine versts further south, and thither we had to transport our carriage. it was off the government post-road, and private horses had to be hired at rather an exorbitant rate. but there was no time to lose, and the russian had us on the hip, an advantage which none know better how to turn to account. the road runs along a narrow sand-spit between the baikal and the inner lagoons. it is very heavy, and the water has broken in on it in some places. the sand-spit runs out to a point forming a sheltered harbour inside for vessels of light draught. the entrance round the point has a shoal sand-bar, somewhat dangerous, running across it. several russian barges, rigged very much like japanese junks, with one enormous mast placed near the centre of the vessel, and of about tons burthen, lay aground discharging their cargoes on the shore. several more were lying at anchor in the harbour. these vessels are of the rudest construction, and the most primitive model--very short, enormously high-sided, and of great beam. they have preposterously large rudders like the chinese and japanese junks. their "lines" are so imperfect that no ordinary rudder would steer them. they must be incapable of any nautical movement except running before the wind. they carry large crews, chiefly bouriats. their heavy main-sail and rudder necessitates plenty of hands, and when in harbour (where they seem to spend most of their time) the large crew is useful in loading and discharging cargo. when we consider the kind of craft, and the quality of their crews, by which the baikal has been navigated, it is easy to account for the terrible stories of the storms that frequently spread destruction over the surface of the lake. that the lake, like other lakes similarly shut in by high mountains, is subject to sudden and violent storms, fraught with danger to crazy barks and unskilful navigators, there can be no doubt; but we had occasion to observe that a very gentle zephyr indeed is accounted a storm on the baikal. it is said that a peculiar phenomenon is sometimes observed in the lake,--a wave, or succession of waves, bubbling up from the bottom in the calmest weather as if moved by submarine influences. but it is not likely that this, or other anomalous convulsions in the waters of the baikal are of frequent occurrence. but, although such phenomena have no doubt fortified the popular superstitious dread with which the lake is regarded, it is of the wind-storms that the russian sailors and travellers are so apprehensive. there is only one house at the port, which belongs to the company who own the steamers, as also many of the sailing craft that cross the lake. in the house we met but one traveller, all the others having stopped at pasoilské to join the steamer there. there was a large concourse of people, however, engaged in landing and shipping cargo, and the scene was most animated. the sand-flat was covered with merchandise, in bales done up in cow-hides, casks, and all manner of packages--that from the west waiting to be carted away to the post-road for china or the amoor river,--and eastern produce, principally chinese, waiting shipment. the people moved about with more business-like energy than we had yet observed amongst russians. the whole traffic with the amoor crosses the baikal here, as does also that with the south-eastern provinces of siberia, which includes all russian trade with china, excepting what finds its way to semipalatinsk, further west on the khirgis steppe. large caravans of one-horse carts, laden with merchandise, are constantly met with on the post-road. the heavy portion of the trade naturally goes eastward, for all the clothing, all the luxuries, and much of what may be considered the necessaries of life of the siberian cities, are supplied from western russia. siberia has not much to send in return, except furs, the precious metals, and chinese produce. while we were waiting for the arrival of the steamer, we were roused by a wild kind of chant outside, and presently a procession of three russian priests, with long hair and long beards, came into the room where we were sitting, and after doing reverence to the picture of the saint, stuck up in a corner of the room, they besprinkled the apartment with holy water, and retired. it was sunday, and this imposing ceremony served to remind the russians of that circumstance. an officer from the amoor country showed us great civility here, and made the time pass very pleasantly. he was worn with hard travelling, having ridden a long distance through forests where no proper road had yet been made. the usual way of travelling up the amoor is by steamer, as far as the navigation is practicable, which is as high as the junction of the shilka. but the steamers often tow huge barges, laden with grain, which greatly retards their progress, and besides, they are almost constantly breaking down. so that, where time is important, the shortest way is to ride until the regular post-road is struck. this gentleman gave us some interesting information regarding the new road now being constructed by the government from irkutsk to kiachta, round the south end of lake baikal. the present route across the lake is very inconvenient, and not always safe. in summer and winter the communication by the lake is pretty regular; but during the interregnum between the seasons it is very uncertain. when ice is forming on the lake it is always doubtful whether the steamer can cross with safety, and she is probably laid up for the winter sooner than is really necessary, from fear of being nipped by ice. again, when the ice is melting, it would be hazardous to leave on the surface the post-stations which are used in winter traffic, for on such a large sheet of water, exposed to gales of wind, the ice may break up suddenly when thaw has once set in. this has actually happened: on one occasion a sudden break-up in the ice submerged a post-station with all the men, horses, &c., belonging to it. thus the post establishments will generally be cleared off in spring, some time before the navigation is open. the inconvenience of depending on this one route for the transport of merchandise and gold has long been felt by the government, but the nature of the country on the southern shores of the baikal presents almost insuperable difficulties to road-making. the precipitous mountain ranges in that region are at present impassable, except on foot or horseback, and dangerous even then. our informant once tried it in winter, and had to abandon his horse to perish in the snow, saving his own life with difficulty. the road now being made is scarped out of the rock in the same way as the one i have described in the gorge in the selenga valley. it is only worked at in winter when the peasants are frozen out of the mines and fields. one of the means employed to split the rocks, is to make enormous bonfires of trees when the temperature is very low (- ° to - ° réaumur), the action of heat on the stone causing huge masses to crack, and enabling the workmen to dislodge it. this is necessarily a slow process. several years have already been spent on it, and a good many more will elapse before the work is completed. when this road is finished it will materially shorten the distance between irkutsk and kiachta. at noon a white column of wood-smoke on the horizon announced the approach of the steamer, and in a couple of hours she came-to off the port, dropped a barge which she had towed across, and proceeded to pasoilské to embark mails and passengers. her return was expected at o'clock, but she did not appear till . it was then getting dark, and to our surprise it was unanimously pronounced too stormy for us to embark that night. it was even hinted that the steamer might run across to the other side of the lake where there was good shelter, and return next day to take us across. it was vain for us to remonstrate against this folly, though the wind was so light that we really could hardly tell which way it was blowing--with a chorus of bawling russians all speaking at once. we had but to wait, and it was some consolation to us to hear the steamer's cable rattling through the hawse-pipe. she had dropped anchor in the offing, and, unless the "gale" increased, would remain there till morning. the rates of passage by steamer across the lake are eight roubles first class, and five roubles deck passage, say twenty-four and fifteen shillings respectively. distance about seventy miles. no table is kept on board. the freight on our tarantass was twenty roubles. freight on general cargo is thirty kopeks per pood, equal to sixty shillings per ton. there seems to be no fixed rule as to passengers' baggage, but the agent is always open to an "arrangement." we were to pay the regular freight on ours, and the agent, to save himself the trouble of weighing it, asked us how much we had. i forget what the quantity was, but say it was ten poods. "oh, then we will call it fifteen," said the agent. our indignation was of course roused at this. we appealed to the russian officer before mentioned, who laid it on so smartly to the agent for first asking us for the weight, and then assuming that we were necessarily trying to cheat him, that the wretch got frightened, and took our baggage free. this afforded the officer an opportunity, which the higher classes in russia never let slip, of commenting on the low state of russian morality, that is, of the merchant and moujik class, as distinguished from _nous autres_. in the early morning the hive was all animation again. the clumsiest of boats were manned by crowds of bouriats, with short paddles, to tow out to the steamer two of those huge barges that were lying in the harbour. the steamer was unable to approach nearer the shore than half a mile, owing to the shoalness of the water. the towing business pays the steamer well, and there are always numbers of sailing craft waiting at both ends for their turn to be towed across. time is no object with them, and they miss many opportunities of sailing over with a fair wind, while waiting for the steamer to tow them. the trade is highly remunerative, as at present conducted, but it would pay much better to keep a smart steamer running regularly with mails and passengers, and a good tug to do nothing but tow barges. half the number of these would then do as much work as the whole fleet does at present. a little healthy competition would work great results, but the russians are fonder of combinations and monopolies than competition. when the two barges had got their hawsers on board the steamer, one of the boats embarked our tarantass and ourselves, with a few other passengers who had turned up, and by eight o'clock we stood on the deck of the _general karsakof_, so named after the present governor-general of eastern siberia. she is a rare specimen of naval architecture, and might have been built any time the last hundred years. roughly put together, clumsy and unshapely, she would be a curiosity in any other part of the world; and for dirt i am certain she has not her match. the engines, which are of fifty horse-power, are the only redeeming feature in the vessel. they were made by an englishman in western siberia. it is no doubt a great thing to have floated a steamer at all on the baikal lake, but while they were about it the builders might have produced something more ship-shape. the _general karsakof_ and her sister ship are coining money for their owners, however, and _they_ have no reason to be dissatisfied with their property. we made but slow progress with the two lumbering barges in tow. there was a slight head wind at first, and our speed was about one mile per hour. latterly the barges made sail, and we got on better. our course lay obliquely across the lake, about w.s.w. towards listni-nijni at the head of the lower angara. had the weather been less severe we should have been tempted to keep the deck, and enjoy the sublime scenery with which we were surrounded. both shores of the lake are very mountainous, those on the south-eastern side being highest, and covered with snow down to the water's edge. there was very little snow on the western side, the snow showers up to that time having been very slight and partial. the water of the lake, away from land, is of a very deep blue, almost black. its depths have never been fathomed, probably from the want of proper tackle, for i am not aware that any ocean-sounding apparatus has ever been used on the baikal. it has been said, i know not on what authority, that "no bottom" has been found at three thousand fathoms; but much that has been said of the baikal is exaggerated, and i greatly doubt whether such a depth has been satisfactorily established. i was informed by a gentleman on the spot, personally acquainted with that part of the country, that the deepest soundings yet obtained in the lake were two hundred fathoms, and that beyond that depth nothing was known. it is only in a few places where soundings have not been taken. the lake is over miles in length, averaging about thirty in breadth; it covers a surface of , square miles, and is feet above the sea level. it is fed by two considerable rivers, the little angara on the north, and the selenga on the east. it has only one outlet, the great angara, on the west, which drains the waters of the lake into the great river yenisei, and that again into the frozen ocean. it is estimated that the water so drained, out of the lake does not amount to more than one-tenth of the quantity poured into it. this estimate may be a little wide of the mark, but there can be no doubt of the fact that the lake receives a large surplus of water above what it gives out, which the quantity lost by evaporation must be utterly inadequate to account for. the level of the water fluctuates only a few feet between seasons. baikal is a mongol name. in saintly russia it is called the holy sea, and among the peasant navigators it is considered high treason to call it a lake. so much for the much be-written baikal. to return to the _general karsakof_. she is puffing and spluttering, with no apparent result but the rapid diminution of the pile of firewood which cumbered her deck. the passengers, mostly on deck, wrapped in huge furs, sit patiently wherever sitting-room can be found, facing the keen air with unruffled equanimity. their noses look a little blue, but what of that?--every other portion of their body is warmly covered. the saloon, so called, is under deck, cold and cheerless. it was occupied by a few russian officers and ourselves, who, between intervals of sleep, called for the samovar, and sipped tea _ad libitum_, the only kind of entertainment the steamer seemed capable of providing. all travellers in russia carry their own tea and sugar. i presume some one navigated the steamer, but i never could discover who occupied this important post. she was steered mostly by bouriats, who take it very easy, sitting all the time on neat little stools to that end provided. we succeeded eventually in reaching the western shore. we were eighteen hours crossing, the distance being seventy miles. a good little harbour, with deep water, shelters the steamers at listni-nijni. a pier has been built for the vessel to go alongside, and everything would be perfect were the easterly shelter a little more complete. the captain of the steamer now appears on the scene to superintend the disembarkation. he is charged by government with the examination of the padaroshnas of passengers, which gives the authorities a check on any unauthorised persons going about the country. it was o'clock, and a bitterly cold morning, when we landed in the government of irkutsk, but, as the steamer had been expected, there was no difficulty in getting horses at the station. a few versts beyond the station we observed a great bonfire blazing on the road-side, and certain wild-looking figures gliding about between the fire and a small hut close by. on reaching the spot, we detected a black and white bar suspended across the road, intimating that we were under arrest for the time being. the unearthly figures that reflected from their faces the fitful glare of the burning logs resolved themselves into men, clad in the grey great-coat of the russian soldiers. our luggage, it seemed, had to be examined here, which involved the torture of turning out of our warm berths. the officials were inexorable. not knowing who was chief,--for as usual they all spoke at once, and every one seemed more officious than another,--we did not know whom to bribe; and, after turning out of our tarantass, we were not at all in a humour to bribe anybody. the officers of the customs, for such we assumed them to be, took plenty of time to turn over our boxes before opening any of them, but finding at last that the coveted coin was not forthcoming, they opened one or two packages for form's sake, repacked them, and performed the ceremony of putting a seal on them. we were then furnished with a certificate, which we were instructed to produce at irkutsk, failing to do which it would be the worse for us. we never did produce it, and never were asked for it. indeed this was the first and last time our baggage was looked at during the whole journey through siberia and russia. the other passengers by the steamer came up after us, and passed the barrier without stopping. we should have done the same, no doubt, had we been better acquainted with the language. the country west of baikal, like that east of baikal, is a vast forest, but not so mountainous. between the lake and irkutsk there is a great deal of cleared ground, and a considerable population. the russian cottages are bare-looking, but neat and substantial. their cattle-yards are mere open wooden palings, unsheltered and dreary-looking. the road runs along the right bank of the angara, the river that runs out of lake baikal, and falls into the yenisei, about miles below irkutsk. the water of the angara is perfectly clear. from the baikal to irkutsk we pass through a very fine country, whether regarded from a tourist or agricultural point of view. the cleared portion is in an advanced state of cultivation, carefully fenced, and very fertile. the people have more of the appearance of men who mean to make a living out of the soil, than any we had seen further east. the bold mountain scenery of the environs of the lake has disappeared, giving place to richly-wooded undulating hills, which are shown to great advantage by the intervals of villages and ploughed land. the rapid river flowing between steep banks, generally covered with trees or brushwood down to the water's edge, works its way circuitously through the hills, and gives a finish to as fine a bit of scenery as can anywhere be seen. the road to irkutsk is in capital order. our horses were good, and our yemschiks willing, and by o'clock we had rattled over the forty miles between the baikal and irkutsk. this distance is divided into three stages. at the last station the post-master was a german, of a jewish cast of face, who seemed to be hired to tout for the amoor hotel in irkutsk, which is the most popular with strangers. we had been specially warned against this establishment, and had the address of another, metzgyr by name, which our yemschik pretended to know, and we started on our last stage with the understanding that we were to be conveyed to metzgyr hotel. chapter xv. irkutsk. the sun shone brightly on the domes and cupolas of irkutsk when they burst on the view; the effect of the dazzling white walls and bright green roofs of the churches was strikingly beautiful. before entering the town, our yemschik descended from the box, and tied up the bells of the horses, in deference to a municipal law of the town, and in mercy to the inhabitants. the streets of irkutsk are straight, wide, and well kept. indeed the main streets are too wide, and have always a more or less desolate appearance. our yemschik was again catechised about metzgyr hotel, but, after all, drove us into a hotel which, after unloading our gear, turned out to be the amoor. the combined action of two conspirators was too much for us, and we had but to make the best of our situation. we were indeed too travel-worn to be particular about our quarters. a room was allotted to us, facetiously said to contain four bed-chambers. on inquiring for the said chambers we were pointed by the _maltchik_ (boy) to certain corners and recesses, in which, by skilful dove-tailing, it was certainly possible to find sleeping-room for four people. beds there were none, but there was a good solid floor, a plain hard sofa, three chairs, and a table. there was no fire-place in the room, the temperature being kept up by blazing furnaces opening in the corridor. the windows were hermetically sealed for the winter. our first and last sensation, during our occupancy of that apartment, was suffocation, only to be relieved by active out-door exercise. the room was adorned by a few pictures, and a large placard, framed and hung up in a conspicuous place, advertised the prix-courant of liquors, cabs, billiards, and viands. here we found _côtelettes_ and _bifsteks_, admirably adapted to the russian spelling. the attendance was of a very mean order. an unkempt urchin in tattered habiliments, did the duty of maid-of-all-work, always in the way when not wanted, now and again disturbing the time-honoured dust of our fusty chamber by besoms and dish-cloths, but never to be found when he was required. no bells are provided for the convenience of visitors, and you may roar yourself hoarse with cries of _maltchik_ or _tchelavek!_ before any one will deign even to answer _sey tchass!_ this word, literally interpreted, means directly, but it may be more practically translated to-morrow, or next week, or when convenient. it is only thrown out to allay your impatience, and keep you in play while the tchelavek is eating his dinner, or gossiping with the cook. no progress can be made till you have discovered his retreat, when the _à posteriori_ argument of boot leather may be applied with good effect. this is the only form of entreaty that can impress a low russian with respect, and one application will generally suffice. all things considered, there is not much to complain of in the culinary department, but the service is enough to blunt the keenest appetite in the world. everything is cold, dirty, and miserable. a good beefsteak is put on the table hot, but you have to wait twenty minutes for something to eat with it; then knives and forks are wanting, and when you flatter yourself all is in order, and you begin your dinner, salt is found to be missing. all that can be tolerated, but oh take care of the eggs! in siberia they keep a stock of these in a fossil state for the entertainment of the unwary, for probably no russian would be so green as to ask for them. at first we doubted whether russians recognised any difference between a new-laid egg, and one that had been addled for six months. but, whatever their own proclivities may be, they do know a fresh egg when they see it. we succeeded at last in getting some only "suspicious," by taking hold of the boy in a menacing manner, and vowing that we would dash in his face every bad egg he should bring to us. in a building separate from the hotel is a dining-room and tap-room, as also a billiard-room, with two tables. this part of the establishment is almost entirely monopolised by military officers, who play billiards all the morning, dine at the table d'hôte at o'clock, and continue billiard-playing all the afternoon. their billiard-cues have no leather tips, and the one table we attempted to play on was so uneven, from about twenty patches in the cloth, that we soon tired of seeing the balls steeple-chasing across the table. the dining-room is a large oblong, the walls covered with pictures of gentlemen in cocked hats and epaulettes, in a very low gaudy style of art. in the centre of one wall is a full-length portrait of the present emperor, which, with all its artistic defects, is nevertheless a fair likeness of his imperial majesty. the russians are a loyal race, and naturally fond of pictures, whether of saints, or tsars, or heroes. at the amoor hotel, i was greatly pleased to meet a friend and countryman who was travelling from st. petersburg to china. the effect of this unexpected meeting was exhilarating, and i don't know whether it gave us most pleasure to recount the circumstances of our journey from china, or to hear our friend's experiences of that part of the road homewards which still lay before us. we certainly had no comfortable news to give each other. in exchange for the horrors of the road through western siberia, we threw in the picture of what a month's ride across the mongolian steppes in november would be. irkutsk is a town that will bear a close inspection. the houses are all large, and as handsome as wooden buildings can well be made. the sombre hue of the external walls is the only unsightly feature about the place; but the general aspect of the town is so well relieved by the numerous handsome churches and other public buildings, that the whole effect is pleasing. the streets are adorned with many fine shops, where every european luxury is obtainable for money. tailors and milliners are very fond of parading flourishing sign-boards in french, and even in that remote corner of the world, paris is looked to as the seat of fashion. the _gostinnoi-dvor_ is well supplied with all the staple articles of merchandise, including every variety of fur. we purchased very good congou tea in the bazaar at ruble kopeks per pound, equal to four shillings. bakers are in great force in irkutsk, many of them germans. _frantsooski khleb_ (french bread) is all the rage in siberia, and this sign is adopted by all bakers indiscriminately. the "french bread" is simply white bread made into rolls. it is very good, and being unobtainable in the country villages, travellers carry a supply with them from one town to another. the tobacconists of irkutsk are famed in eastern siberia for their "papiros," or paper cigars, which they make out of turkish tobacco. the russians, almost without exception of age or sex, smoke quantities of tobacco in the shape of papiros. in irkutsk itself, however, "moscow" is considered a better brand for papiros than "irkutsk." the prison occupies the corner of two streets. it has one iron-grated window facing the street, at which the prisoners are always to be seen clamouring for alms. the russians are very charitable and give a great deal to these prisoners. it is very common also in the streets for passers-by, especially old ladies, to stop the convicts who are employed under a guard of cossacks in carrying water, &c., and give them money. this is so much a matter of course that when any well-dressed person, suspected of being charitably disposed, is seen approaching a convict, the cossacks halt by instinct. every resident in irkutsk who can afford it keeps a carriage. their horses are very showy in harness, and there are enough of them generally to be seen in the street to be an ornament to the place. the droshky service is also very good. the drivers always go fast and their horses are generally fresh and fiery. there are several good libraries in irkutsk, branches of scientific societies, a theatre, a newspaper, and other concomitants of cultivation. on the whole, i confess that my pre-conceived notions of siberian life proved utterly fallacious. i had pictured to myself a barren, inhospitable climate, unfit for the habitation of any except those who were compelled by law to exist there, and who necessarily had to suffer every privation. instead of that, i found settled communities, not only enjoying all the amenities of civilised life, but living in expensive luxury, and many of them in extravagance. irkutsk, like most other siberian towns, is named after a river. it has a settled population of , , but in winter, when the gold-washing ceases, the population is swelled by the addition of about miners, who pass the winter in town, and manage to spend every farthing of their earnings before the mining season comes round again. the town derives great importance from its being the residence of the governor-general and the capital of eastern siberia, which not only includes the amoor country, but that large tract recently acquired from china, and now called primorsky, or the maritime region. the heads of the police, military, financial, and post departments, have their offices in irkutsk, which not only gives a tone to society, but keeps a large substratum of subordinate officers, with their families, about the place, and indirectly tends to promote the general prosperity. an archbishop also resides in irkutsk. on the second day of our stay in irkutsk we visited the governor-general, and made the acquaintance of the chief of police, who put our papers in train. the governor-general holds a levée once a week, which happened to be on the day of our visit. about twenty persons in full dress presented themselves, including a number of officers, among whom we recognised with difficulty some of our late fellow-travellers. a number of peasants were assembled in the hall long before the appointed hour. they wore the most woe-begone visages, and each seemed to have his own special grievance. each was armed with a scroll of paper, probably a petition, that he had got some one to write for him. these petitions were being patiently examined by an aide-de-camp, who seemed to decide on which were fit to be presented to his chief. the governor-general of eastern siberia has no sinecure. he has on his shoulders the affairs of a region larger than the whole of europe, and which is yet but in the infancy of its development. the population is certainly scant, but it is composed of heterogeneous tribes, and the mere scarcity of population enhances the difficulty of general progress. a scattered population is, _ipso facto_, deprived on the one hand of the great stimulant to improvement which rivalry imparts to large communities, and on the other, of the facilities for carrying out the aspirations after better things which it may have. these disadvantages are a serious obstacle to any people, but to a race not naturally progressive, they are doubly so. russia is not one of those countries where government ought to hold aloof from the affairs of the people. it may greatly err in doing too much; but something it must do if russia is to follow even at a great distance in the march of development. the people will not put the government in motion, but the government must lead the people in every step. in eastern siberia there is vast scope for the energy of a man of administrative ability and singleness of purpose. untold wealth lies under its soil. with its iron and coal and lead, and the natural fertility of a large portion of its soil, it might by well-directed enterprise, become to a great extent independent of the world; while the fine rivers that traverse the country offer means of water-communication perhaps unequalled, certainly unsurpassed, in any other country. very much has been done of late years to utilise these natural privileges; but much more remains to be done. and it depends greatly on the governor-general, whose vice-regal power is almost as absolute as the sway of the tsar himself, whether the commercial and productive resources of those regions will continue to develop under the same enlightened impulse as heretofore. another element of the importance of irkutsk is to be found in the circumstance that it is the commercial centre of eastern siberia. the houses of business of the out-stations, such as kiachta, have mostly their head-quarters in irkutsk. it is the principal dépôt on the highway between western russia, and china and the amoor provinces; and a great deal of wealth has been accumulated there by persons engaged in trade. the manufactures of this place, and indeed of siberia generally, are insignificant and hardly worth alluding to. manufactures of all kinds in irkutsk employ a few hundred workmen, the principal works being in leather and soap. in a country so rich in minerals this need not be so. it only needs an enterprising population to turn the resources of the country to account, and cheapen many of those articles of daily consumption which the land carriage from europe makes so exorbitantly dear in siberia. this, and the other great towns in siberia, are well provided with educational institutions, and every good family employs private tutors and governesses. education is prized by the higher classes, but utterly neglected by the lower, which include, generally speaking, the merchants. the society of siberia is, on the whole, as good as in russia proper. the higher class are generally of the russian nobility, who, either to retrieve their broken fortunes, or with a view to more rapid advancement in rank, go out to siberia to fill high official stations. three, and in some cases two, years of public service in siberia count for five years in russia. there are other inducements to men of rank and intelligence to seek their fortunes in siberia, among which may be named the greater scope for ambition which a half-settled country affords, and the freedom from the curse of cliques and intrigue which exist in petersburg, and which only a few can hope to turn to their own advantage. a man's individuality counts for more in a country where he meets few of his peers, and that consideration may possibly weigh with some of them. many of the proprietors of gold-diggings are scions of the highest class of russian aristocracy. these, and most of the officials, have generally their families with them in siberia; and although they never lose their hold of russia, practically siberia is their home. they spare no expense in the education of their children, and hence the amount of both native and foreign talent that is employed in teaching. foreign artists and men of science are frequently to be met with in siberia, and are much sought after and hospitably entertained in the highest circles. the educated russians, being conscious of their native deficiencies, have a high appreciation of talent, whencesoever it comes. of late years siberian society has received large accessions of educated people in the polish political exiles, who are mostly students and professors in the universities, members of the roman catholic priesthood, and artists. but what has done more, perhaps, than anything else to give a high tone to the upper classes in siberia, and to stamp their manners with elegance, is the thirty years' residence of the political exiles of , so-called decembrists. on the day of the accession of the late emperor nicholas, a widespread conspiracy against him was discovered before it was quite ripe for action. growing out of the general discontent which had hatched the abortive plot against the life of alexander i., it assumed a definite shape and formidable magnitude during the three weeks' interregnum which occurred between the death of alexander and the accession of nicholas, during which time nicholas had been coquetting with the crown, before formally intimating his acceptance of it. the army was involved, and many of the officers of the imperial guard were deeply committed. the premature discovery of the conspiracy disconcerted the most active leaders of the malcontents, and when the crisis came, the rebellious troops were reduced by whole regiments who backed out at the last moment, and the few thousands who were left found themselves deserted by many of their officers. the forlorn hope assembled in st. isaac's square on the th of december, and the very first act of nicholas's reign was to blow the insurgents to atoms with artillery, and cut up the flying remnant with cavalry. a fearful day of reckoning followed this ill-fated attempt. a searching inquiry was at once instituted, conducted by commissioners. it lasted nearly half a year. instigated by fear, and the thirst for vengeance, the government interpreted the most trivial circumstances into treason. the leaders of the insurrection were mostly young men of good families, but they were indirectly encouraged by noblemen of great wealth and power. all this was ferreted out in the protracted investigation. the end of it was the capital punishment of a few of the most active instigators of the plot, and the exile of the rest to siberia. among these exiles were many members of the highest aristocracy. their wives in most instances followed them into siberia, which they were permitted by government to do, on certain conditions. one condition was, that the wives of exiles should come under an obligation never to return from the land of their banishment. another was, that all their correspondence should pass through the hands of the governor-general in siberia, and the ministry of secret police in st. petersburg. this latter condition their ingenuity enabled them easily to evade. these ladies, among whom were princesses, countesses, and others of rank, fortune, and refinement, soon began to be influential in siberia. their husbands, who had been condemned to labour in the mines for various terms, some to ten, others to twenty-five years, and some others for life, were never detained much more than one year at any of their penal settlements. none were ever compelled to labour at all, except a few who were refractory, or who had committed misdemeanours while in siberia. as time wore on, and the fury of the government abated, the interest of the friends and relations of the exiles induced the governor-general of eastern siberia to look favourably on them. they were then permitted to reside in, and to register themselves as residents of, various villages in the different provinces of siberia. it was not long before they were allowed to reside in the larger towns, and once there, they soon built for themselves elegant houses in such places as irkutsk, krasnoyarsk, and yeniseisk, where they lived openly and in comparative comfort, and took up their natural position as the _élite_ of society. but though fortune seemed to smile on them, the exiles were politically dead, that being the inexorable sentence of the law which drove them from their native country. children were born to them in siberia, but although they took up the position in society which their birth and education entitled them to, they were, nevertheless, in the eye of the law, illegitimate, and incapable of enjoying any social or political rights. the sins of the fathers were visited on the children to interminable generations. not only could the children of exiles not inherit their father's hereditary titles, but they were debarred even from bearing their own family name! and they inherited their parents' exile in never being permitted to return to russia. this has, no doubt, been in some instances evaded, by daughters marrying russian noblemen, and returning to russia under cover of their husband's names, but such procedure was nevertheless strictly against the law. thus did the decembrists expiate their political offences in their own persons, and in their descendants', for full thirty years, until the accession of the present emperor. as the iron rule of nicholas was inaugurated by an act of crushing severity, so the milder sway of alexander ii. was marked at its outset by an act of mercy to the exiles of his father. a free pardon, with permission to return to russia, was granted to all the survivors. their children, born in siberia, had their father's hereditary honours and full political rights restored to them. it is by such measures as this that alexander ii. has made his name respected and beloved by his people. the influence of political exiles of various periods has made an ineradicable impression on the urban communities of siberia, but the decembrists, from their education and polish, have certainly done most to form the nucleus of good society there. the mercantile class in siberia, and indeed all over russia, stands decidedly low in the social scale. a merchant, though enormously rich, and doing a very large business, is essentially a huckster. in manners they are little removed from the common peasant, from which class they have generally sprung. they are for the most part illiterate themselves, and, until very lately, have been incapable of appreciating the advantages of education for their children. they are widely separated from the upper classes, who regard them with unmixed contempt. the line of distinction between the nobility and the substrata of society is more broadly drawn in russia than in any other country, excepting in the empire of japan, where, however, the mercantile, and classes in our estimation below them, are well educated. this distinction of ranks is undoubtedly a relic of barbarism, but whether the mean tastes of what ought to be the middle classes in russia be the cause, or the effect, of their relatively low status in society, they both mutually act and re-act on each other as cause and effect, and so the evil constantly perpetuates itself. while resting in irkutsk, we employed ourselves casting about for means of attaining the maximum of comfort, that is to say, the minimum of hardship, for the remaining part of the journey. we had learned the mode of travelling, and thought we knew exactly where reform could be applied with most effect. the greatest annoyance the traveller experiences in russia and siberia, is the necessity of paying horse hire at each station. it is bad enough during the day, but to turn out of a warm nest two or three times in a night, to banter postmasters and yemschiks, settle your fare to the next station, and see that your wheels are oiled, is simply intolerable, especially when the thermometer is anything you like below zero. the postmasters, with the most laudable desires possible, cannot cheat you. in every station is exhibited a placard, framed and glazed, signed and sealed by high functionaries, stating the distance in versts to each of the two nearest stations, and the fare in roubles and in kopeks, which, in eastern siberia, and also as far west as tumen, is one kopek and a-half per verst per horse, that is, a little over three farthings per mile. besides this, you are expected to pay twelve kopeks, or fourpence, for oiling wheels, which is necessary, on an average, at every third station. then, if you use a post-carriage, or _kibitka_, another fourpence is due for that at every station. the drink-money, or _navodku_, due to the yemschik, must on no account be forgotten, for the speed with which you will be driven on the next stage will bear some proportion to the amount of drink-money which you are reported to have given for the preceding. money does not always procure speed, but speed will always draw money. in the anxiety to award the due meed of merit a nice estimate must be made of the value of the service rendered, and the reward fixed at ten, fifteen, or twenty kopeks, or nothing at all, as the case may require. the condition of the roads and horses, over which the yemschik has no control, must be carefully weighed in this important calculation. but while nobody can attempt to cheat you with any decent prospect of success, it is always open to the station-keeper to say he has no change to give you. to meet this dodge you must carry a bag of coppers, which, unless it weighs nearly a hundred weight, will not last you from one town to another where alone the coin is procurable. then, again, it was not to be denied that our knowledge of russian was too limited for our purpose, in the event of our getting into any real difficulty, from the thousand and one accidents to which travellers in such a country are liable. we contrived to magnify all these imaginary difficulties in our own eyes, when a young russian, bearing the german name of his father, schwartz, waited on us to offer his services on the road as far as st. petersburg. he had literally devoured his patrimony with riotous living, and had been in all employments, from clerk in a government office in irkutsk, to actor in the provincial theatre, and was now bent on returning to his family, like the prodigal, as he was, without a shirt to his back. his antecedents were nothing to us: seeing he was a russian, spoke german perfectly, french intelligibly, as also a few words of english which he had picked up from grooms in st. petersburg. we settled with him at once, giving him fifteen roubles down, to furnish him with clothes to cover his limbs from the cold--for the rest he was to work his passage to petersburg. an agreement was duly drawn up and signed, and, to conform to russian formalities, it was certified by the police, on which a special passport for him was issued. when all was in order, a creditor of schwartz's appeared, and lodged a claim against him for the sum of ten roubles, which we had of course to pay, or forego the valuable services of the scamp. the ten roubles was not very alarming, but the number of similar demands that might follow, inspired us with sore misgivings on schwartz's account. the more we actually paid for him, the stronger arguments we should have to go on paying. to save the equivalent of the fifteen roubles we had already given him, it was well worth while to pay other ten. but when we had spent twenty-five roubles on him, we should only have a stronger reason to pay twenty more, which, at that stage of the proceedings, would be evidently throwing good money after bad. after grave deliberation we determined, illogically as i confess, to pay the ten roubles demanded, and stop there. by good luck we were not called upon for more roubles. but our experience with schwartz proved so unsatisfactory, that it would have been an economy to pay a hundred roubles to get rid of him. he was a trouble and a dead loss to us from first to last. his only real use was, as a standing butt for invective. his follies were, at the same time, aggravating and amusing. when he left at a post-station some of the things of which we had given him charge, it was a solace to us to know that he had also lost an extra pair of his own boots. and when we missed a preserved ox tongue, which had been put into water to soak at a previous station, it relieved our resentful feelings mightily to make schwartz go without his dinner. snow fell in irkutsk on the th october, and for two days, sledges were at work in the streets. the sun was powerful enough on the th to melt it a little during the middle of the day. but still there was the snow, a fortnight before its regular time, and we were just too late to be able to get over the rivers while they were still open for boats. it was an early winter in eastern siberia: that world-renowned individual, the "oldest inhabitant," only recollected one season in which snow-roads were practicable in irkutsk as early as the st october, russian date, or th, new style. the th was a fine hard morning, with a sky slightly overcast; and on that day we resumed our nomad life, after six days' rest. the river angara flows through irkutsk, but there is only a small portion of the town on the left bank. the irkut, rising in the mountainous region near kosogol, on the frontier, south-west of irkutsk, falls into the angara opposite the town. the post-road crosses the angara below the confluence. the crossing is effected by means of a most efficient floating bridge, which consists of a boat held by a strong warp to an anchor dropped about yards up the stream in mid-channel. the slack of the warp is buoyed up by three boats at equal intervals. in crossing, the boat's head is pointed obliquely across the stream by means of a large oar over the stem. the strength of the current does the rest. the boat swings on her anchor until she is laid alongside the landing on the opposite bank. the boat is double-bottomed, with a spacious platform on deck, and a moveable rail on each side. there is room on deck for three or four carriages to stand, and the passage is effected without taking the horses out. the angara flows as clear as crystal out of the baikal, and maintains its purity after receiving the irkut. it is deep at irkutsk, and the current is nearly six miles an hour. the town again appears to good advantage from the left bank of the angara. the river banks are in themselves rather picturesque, and when the water, the pretty white spires of the town, and thick woods around, are combined in one view, the effect is beautiful, and the traveller retains a pleasing impression of irkutsk. chapter xvi. irkutsk to krasnoyarsk. for the first two stages from irkutsk we caught occasional glimpses of high mountain ranges at a great distance to the south-west. but the dense forest soon shut in our view. the roads were tolerably good, and we rumbled along expeditiously and comfortably. the country maintains the same characteristics as already noted--thick woods for the most part, with clear patches here and there, and villages at intervals of a few miles; while its surface is pleasantly varied with hill and dale, and if only there were less forest to enable one to see round him, it would be a very cheerful drive. innumerable small rivers have to be crossed in ferry-boats, which help to break the monotony of the journey. reading is next to impossible on russian roads, and the art of sleeping--when there is nothing better to do--is a most valuable accomplishment to the traveller. we had attained considerable proficiency in this, and i have been ferried across a river amid the hubbub of taking out and putting in horses, and rolling the carriage into and out of the ferry-boat, without suffering any interruption of a profound slumber. being eager to make up lost time, we drove our yemschiks hard with drink-money, and they certainly responded heartily to the stimulant. the roads are very steep, and nothing has been done in the way of cuttings or embankments. the ravines have generally small streamlets running along the bottom, which is ragged and broken. these are bridged over in a rough-and-ready manner. but the ascents and descents are fearfully steep. when a heavy carriage starts down a hill with three rats of ponies in front of it, one only bearing the weight of the vehicle, no earthly power can stop it. the drag on the wheel is of little use. the only safety is in the plan the russian drivers adopt of going full tilt from top to bottom, to the delight of siberian ponies--dashing over the wooden bridge like madmen, and halfway up the opposite hill before they draw rein. there is a fascinating excitement about this mode of charging a ravine which kills all sense of danger, except, perhaps, when the road is slippery with snow, well polished with sledges. under these circumstances it is only the more necessary to urge the beasts at top speed; but a qualm of nervousness will occasionally rise, unbidden, until you have learned to confide implicitly in the infallibility of the yemschiks and their high-mettled steeds. the ponies are always in prime condition for work. little or no attention is paid to them in the stable or out of it, but they have always as much corn as they can eat, and they are notoriously good feeders. they are capable of a great amount of continuous hard work. on an average every one of them travels two stages a day, both ways, for they always return to their own station. that is equal to about forty miles with a loaded carriage, and the same distance back, with an empty one, on the same day. when the roads are tolerable they go at a good speed. we have travelled eighteen miles at a stretch within an hour and a half. the roads seldom admit of this rate of travelling, however, being generally, saving the bridges and the original cutting through the woods, left pretty much to nature. along the whole length of the post-road the distances from station to station are marked at every verst by wooden poles, painted black and white; and at each station a high post indicates the distances from the chief towns. a feeling of depression always came over me on spelling out the interesting word st. petersburg, and finding it was more than versts or miles off. it was a tedious business to reduce such an imposing figure as that. after irkutsk we had got it under the . when wearied out with rough travelling, the few versts to the next halt were painful enough, and on such occasions the odd were really appalling. we never stopped by day or night, unless compelled by force of circumstances. our meals were consequently uncertain and irregular, both as to time, quantity, and quality. at most of the stations shtchee and beef could be had about mid-day, though unless it was ready we did not wait for it, but pushed on, trusting to what we might pick up in a chance way, and having our small stock of preserved meat to fall back upon, should everything else fail. twice a day we drank tea. the russians lose a great deal of time in tea-drinking at the post-stations. give them plenty of tea, and they care little for food. indeed they encourage the habit partly to blunt the appetite. it suits their constitutions, but it certainly did not answer with us, to be jolted and tumbled about on bad roads with a stomach full of fluid. besides the loss of time was an object to us, but of little account apparently to the russians. a sufficiency of solid food can be disposed of in a very few minutes, not so boiling tea, and i have constantly seen russians slowly sipping quarts of the decoction long after their horses were ready for the road. in a very cold night the hot tea is no doubt acceptable, but one tumbler of hot grog is worth a gallon of tea, and occupies less time and less room. after three days and nights' travelling we arrived at the birusanskaya station, distant from irkutsk versts, or miles, which was very fair going, all things considered. in that distance we had only passed one town--nijni-udinsk. birusanskaya stands on the right bank of the river birusa, which, at this part of its course, divides the government of irkutsk from that of yenisei. this river, as well as those crossed to the eastward, rises in the mountain ranges near the southern frontier of siberia. they all flow northward, and fall into the angara, before its junction with the yenisei. at birusanskaya we were told that the river was impassable on account of the ice, and that there were no horses, with a number of similar stories, more or less true. it was night, and we were not the only sufferers; so, as soon as we had fairly exhausted all the persuasive means at our disposal, we quietly went to roost like the rest. at o'clock next morning we were furnished with horses, and drove to the river. it was fast freezing over, and at the regular crossing there was too much ice at the edges to admit of the ferry-boat's "communicating." another crossing had therefore to be used, where there was no proper road on either side of the river, and which consequently involved much loss of time. on leaving the river, and before joining the post-road, a tract of prairie ground had to be crossed, all holes and hillocks, and anything but an eligible road for wheeled carriages. the distance from home seemed to diminish suddenly as we came in sight of the telegraph wires which had been carried as far as the river birusa. the posts were put up at some parts of the road eastward. coils of wire were lying at every station, and the workmen were busy stretching and carrying it on. the posts are tall rough spars, placed at intervals of one hundred yards, and only two wires are used. the telegraph was completed to irkutsk in december last. a marked improvement in the roads was observable in the government of yenisei. they had been macadamised, and although the stones had been overlaid with a coating of mud during the early part of autumn, it was not so deep as to become very rough with traffic. in some parts a thin covering of snow lay on the ground, and sledges were in use in such places. in the middle of the night (a very cold one) of the rd october, we arrived at the river kan, which, from the town of kansk, flows nearly west, and joins the yenisei north of krasnoyarsk. the ferrymen were all on the opposite shore with their boats, and of course asleep, and we were anything but sanguine of rousing them. we called lustily, but the echo of our shouts alone responded, as if in mockery. "you may call spirits from the vasty deep," &c. but either we must get over, or shiver on the banks of this river styx till day-light. fortunately the yemschiks were as impatient as ourselves, and possessing stentorian lungs, they plied them vigorously, until at last a gruff response from the log-hut on the other side was vouchsafed. then some low mutterings were heard (for the air was so still and frosty that you might have heard a pin fall), then a little rumbling of oars and heavy footsteps on the loose deck-boards of the ferry-boat, some splashing in the water, and in due time the boat itself, with the grim ferrymen in beards and sheepskins, was seen approaching us. the town of kansk is a verst and a half from the ferry. the sharp air had affected all and sundry at the post-station of kansk, for a deep sleep had fallen on them. with a little perseverance we knocked them up, in anything but an amiable frame of mind, and it was near o'clock, a.m., before the sleepy yemschiks had got the horses in. we had picked up a fellow-traveller the day before, and arranged to travel in company, if possible, as far as tomsk. he was carrying gold from irkutsk to barnaul, which is the great place for smelting it. our first introduction to him was at the birusa river, which he excited our jealousy by crossing in advance of us. to get a rise out of him we promised extra drink-money to our yemschik if he would pass him, which he did. the russian was annoyed at being passed, and at the next station he recorded his grievances in the book kept for that purpose. we left him there drinking tea, and soon after we missed some things which we had in the hurry left behind. our new friend came up with us at the next station, and brought with him the missing articles. this began to make us feel kindly to him, and as we encountered him at every station, we soon got intimate, and he ended by proposing to keep company with us, dining and drinking tea together. his name was vasil vasilovitch something or other (i never could catch his family name), but as his talk turned greatly on the charms of barnaul, we gave him the nickname of old barnaul. he tried hard to speak french and english, but as he had only acquired about ten words of the former, and five of the latter, we could only get on with a conglomeration of russian, french, and english, or through the interpretation of schwartz. "_prendre thé_--very good," was about his highest effort in philology. old barnaul talked much of san francisco, whither he had been carried as a prisoner on board h.m.s. pique, during the crimean war. he was captured at sitka, and after spending some time at san francisco, studying american character, and acquiring his modicum of the english language, he found his way back in an american vessel to sitka. old barnaul had a cossack in full accoutrements, _i. e._, armed with a long sword, a most kind, good-natured russian soldier, who was infinitely more useful to us than the empty-headed schwartz. travelling in company has its arguments _pro_ and _con_. first, _pro_--you have the chance of exciting in the respective yemschiks the noble ambition of landing you first at the next station, by holding out the promise to each of extra drink-money if he wins. this is also exhilarating to yourself, as in every stage of the journey you have the excitement of a race to beguile the tedium of the way. then, by preconcerted arrangement, you determine at what station you will dine or drink tea, so that whichever of you arrives first can make the necessary preparations. second, _con_. you throw a heavier burden on the yemschiks at the stations, and thereby protract the usual time required to change horses. and you run the risk of stopping the whole party by the greater number of horses you call for all at once, for there may often be horses for one traveller, where there are not enough for two. on the whole, it retards progress, just as in the case of vessels keeping company on the water, the speed obtained is somewhat less than that of the slowest of the convoy. to the west of kansk, the country is nearly cleared of wood, and is for the most part rather flat. cultivation becomes more general, and the clear view occasionally obtained over the bare country, revealed many large villages dotted here and there. the wind rose early in the day, and sent a cold chill through us as we drove up in its teeth. while halting at a station, a smart shower of snow fell, and caught our tarantass, half-open in front, and face to wind. it was fast filling with snow, and we rebuked schwartz for his negligence. he at once transferred the responsibility from his own shoulders, by going out into the yard and kicking the first yemschik he met, which seems to be the most civil kind of salutation a russian moujik expects. when the shower stopped, it was not difficult to shake out the snow from our blankets, and what was left was no great inconvenience to us, for the air was too cold to allow it to melt. the road was kept clean by the wind, which drove the snow before it like fine sand drift. but the wind was a sad inconvenience to us, and this was perhaps the only day on which our heavy furs and blankets were inadequate to retain warmth. the roads were excellent, however, and we went merrily along. we found the inconvenience of travelling with old barnaul, on coming to a station where horses were obtainable for us, being privileged, but none for him. the "cold without," and a good dinner within, induced us to wait a few hours until he could get horses. besides, the yenisei river was before us, and we were assured that the passage could not be effected in such a wind. very late at night we reached basailsk, a station ten versts short of the yenisei. there we remained all night, and next morning drove on to the river. here was one instance, out of many, of the absurd situations that have been chosen for many of the post-stations in siberia, with reference to the rivers. the station is nearly always placed at some distance from the river, sometimes only one or two versts. horses have to be harnessed and driven to the river, there unharnessed again, transported across the water, and put to again on the other side. this extra work and loss of time would be saved by placing the station on the bank of the river, and so by having one on each side, the horses need never be ferried over at all. the yenisei is a noble river, the largest in siberia. its banks are bold, but very bare, while the lack of timber, and general baldness of the country, give the scene a bleak and inhospitable aspect. the sprinkling of snow that hung about the crevices served to intensify the gloom. it was questionable whether we could cross the yenisei in the face of the wind, which blew in strong gusts from the north-west, but we managed to get our establishments into a boat, rather small for the load she had, but quite large enough for the power available to propel her. she was headed straight across the stream, pulled by four men in the bow, and steered by the usual rudely made oar over the stern. they made very little way with her, and when we had reached the right bank of the river, we had dropped about a mile down stream. a horse was ready on the other side to tow the boat up to the proper landing-place. a rope was passed ashore, but before it was properly secured to the horse, the end slipped, a gust of wind caught the boat, and she was blown from the shore. this was too good an opportunity for jabbering and gesticulation to be lost on our lusty crew, and accordingly to this luxury they abandoned themselves, while the unfortunate boat, bearing us, the unfortunate passengers, was being blown out to the middle of the stream by the wind, and at the same time gliding swiftly down the river. when the crew had recovered themselves a little, they hesitated about which shore they ought to make for; and at last concluded it would be best to go back again to the left bank, which we reached at a point three miles below our original starting-place. the men landed, and went to the town to fetch horses to tow the boat up again. we walked to the town also to seek some shelter from the biting wind, and wait the arrival of the boat. she got up at noon, and we made a fresh start to cross, which was successfully accomplished the second time. a used-up team of horses awaited us, and we travelled slowly to krasnoyarsk. amid a great deal of grass and waste land, the country round krasnoyarsk is well cultivated, but very bare. the town is situated on a raised plateau in a large valley. like other siberian towns its streets are wide, straight, and clean, with dull-looking wooden houses, and handsome churches. there is something incongruous in this combination. the churches are undoubtedly highly ornamental to the town--it would be poor indeed without them--but the contrast between their snow-white walls and spires, and the earth-colour of the houses, is too great. they seem to have no connection with each other. krasnoyarsk, though the government town of yeniseisk, is comparatively a small place, its population being something under , . as an exception to the general rule, its name is not derived from a river, but means "red cliff." the station-master at krasnoyarsk combines with his official duties the business of hotel-keeper, an arrangement admirably convenient for travellers. the station hotel is a very good one from a siberian point of view, and we were induced to shake down in it for the night from a variety of reasons, chiefly because we were very tired, and it was snowing heavily. other travellers from the west were there at the same time, and we were entertained by their accounts of the state of the roads from nijni-novgorod. it was amusing to hear the different reports of travellers, and compare them. most of them were absolutely contradictory, and we were constrained to come to the conclusion that russian travellers fill up the blanks in conversation with whatever comes uppermost, without taxing their memory to the extent necessary to give an accurate statement of their experience. the amount of attention which the efficient management of the hotel exacted from the landlord left him no time for the duties of his less remunerative position of postmaster. all the postal arrangements were in dire confusion in the morning, when we wished to start on our journey, yemschiks drunk, and no one at his post. we lost the whole morning waiting for horses, which was so vexatious that we resolved to record our complaint in "the book." at every post-station a black book is kept in a corner of a room on a small table, to which it is attached by a cord, and sealed. it is open for public inspection, and every traveller has the privilege of writing in it any grievance he may have suffered from inattention, incivility, or unwarrantable delay on the part of yemschiks or postmasters. the director-general of posts makes a periodical tour, and examines the black book of every station. the complaints of government couriers are, perhaps, the only ones that excite much attention. everything else in the posting system is made subordinate to the rapid despatch of government intelligence. horses can never be refused to a courier on any pretence whatever, for the station-keepers are obliged, at all times, to keep a certain number in reserve for such emergencies. when news of importance has to be transmitted, it can be done with very great rapidity by means of an _estafette_, which will carry news from kiachta to st. petersburg, a distance of over four thousand miles, in less than twenty days. the rapidity with which the russian government has, on certain occasions, obtained important news from china, proves the efficiency of the courier service. the signing of the treaties at tientsin in , and the taku disaster in , were known at st. petersburg some two weeks before the official despatches reached this country. and now that the telegraph has been extended to irkutsk, the russians receive news from the chinese commercial ports, on the direct steamer route, a good many days earlier than we can, even by telegraph from suez. the capture of nanking, for example, was reported in england _viâ_ st. petersburg on the th september, while our suez telegram did not reach till the rd. chapter xvii. krasnoyarsk to tomsk. it had snowed all night in krasnoyarsk, and sledges were actively employed in the streets next day. the conveyance given to us for our extra baggage was a sledge. old barnaul could not get horses, so we left him behind. he managed to hire private horses for one stage, and came up to us at the next station. the roads were good, but yemschiks sulky, and we were driven along at a snail's pace. when drink money was asked for, we upbraided the yemschik for his contumacy. he appealed to the "regulations," which only authorise a speed of eight versts per hour. we had nothing to object to this. but as the yemschik defended himself by the strict letter of the law, we could avail ourselves of it also, and there was nothing about drink money in the "regulations." the wind had fortunately subsided, but the cold was intense. the country west of krasnoyarsk continued very bare. the crisp snow made travelling easy, and later in the day we managed to mend our pace, making good way during the night, and arriving early on the following morning at the town of achinsk, versts, or miles, from krasnoyarsk. there are two pretty churches in achinsk, and the houses are rather handsome for a small town of two or three thousand inhabitants. it is situated near the river chulim, which trends westward and joins the ob. achinsk is the last town of the government of yenisei, and also stands on the boundary line between eastern and western siberia. the country is more woody near achinsk, and game of various kinds is abundant. we here for the first time tasted the _ryabchik_, a bird something between a pheasant and a partridge in size and in flavour. while at achinsk we were bluntly told we could not cross the chulim, owing to the quantity of floating ice. the river is one verst and a-half from the town. the postmaster offered to drive us there, but said we should have to come back, unless we chose to encamp on the bank of the river. when we did get there, we succeeded, after a long debate, in inducing the boatmen to ferry us over. but for a full hour they stoutly refused to take the tarantass. the large boats had been laid aside, and smaller and more handy craft, better fitted for threading their way through thick blocks of ice, were being used. with patience, however, we gained our point, and got tarantass and all across the river, though not without considerable difficulty and danger. we now entered the government of tomsk, a fact of which the state of the roads would have been sufficient evidence. all through the government of yenisei, a distance by our route of miles, the roads are well kept up, with side drains and cross drains to keep them dry; but in tomsk government the roads were far worse than nature made them, for traffic had ruined them and made them all but impassable. during the wet weather of early autumn they had been a mass of soft mud, which was cut up by wheels and horses' feet to a fearful extent. the frost caught them in that condition, and the result can be more easily imagined than described. the main road had been in fact abandoned, until enough snow should fall to fill up the inequalities; and in the meantime by-roads had to be struck out through the forest, that being the only practicable means of travelling at all. it is considered that between the autumn and the snow there are "no roads," and no russian travels at that season unless under the most urgent circumstances. in the post regulations it is laid down that travellers can demand to be driven at the rate of ten versts per hour in summer, eight in autumn, and twelve in winter, from december to march. these rates are, in practice, greatly increased in summer and winter, but, in the month of october, it is hard work to average even the government speed. the state of the road beyond achinsk had necessitated the subdivision of the stages, by erecting temporary intermediate stations. the whole of the arrangements were in confusion; so much so that after an early breakfast in achinsk, we found no opportunity of dining till near midnight. the cold continued very severe. our freezing breath kept our faces in a mass of ice, large icicles formed on the horses' muzzles, and they were white all over with hoar frost, formed by the perspiration freezing on their hair. our bread, and everything we had, was frozen through. as we toiled on, painfully and slowly, on the th of october we met travellers who assured us of the impossibility of crossing the kiya river at mariinsk. we had learned, however, rather to take courage from this kind of job's comfort with which we were so often entertained on the road; and we did not hesitate to advance to the river, which we reached at seven in the evening. an hour sufficed to persuade the ferrymen to tempt the crossing, and another hour saw us over the water and in the town of mariinsk. we were fain to rest our aching bones a little, and finding a very civil but garrulous postmaster, a pole, we dined comfortably at the station, and started again at midnight. on the preceding night we had come to grief, by the wheel of our tarantass sinking into a pit that had been dug for a telegraph post, and then filled with snow. with the assistance of a peasant whom chance threw in our way, and a stout pole for a lever, the vehicle was extricated; but we had not gone two stages from mariinsk before the same wheel fell suddenly to pieces without any immediate provocation. we were a number of miles from any station when this accident occurred, but the yemschik, being no doubt accustomed to similar mischances in driving four-wheeled carriages through tangled woods, proceeded at once to put us in temporary travelling order. he cut down a pretty stout tree, one end of which he laid on the axle of the fore wheels, while the other end rested on the ground behind the carriage. this formed a bridge for the axle of the hind wheel (the broken one) to rest upon, and by that simple expedient we got safely to the station, berikulskoé. the accident delayed us a whole day at the station. old barnaul parted company with us to proceed to tomsk, which was then only miles distant. on entering the village, a blacksmith, spying our condition, and smelling a job, followed us to the station. we settled with him to repair our wheel, which was equivalent to making a new one all but the tire, for the sum of six roubles, and it was finished in the afternoon. at this point we discovered that our special pass had been left five stations behind us. it was a serious matter to lose a document so essential to inspire postmasters with respect, and we wrote to the station where we supposed it had been left, requesting it might be forwarded to us. during the day, however, the post from irkutsk passed, and brought us the paper, for which delicate attention we felt duly grateful. from berikulskoé we resumed the circuitous tracks through the forest. during the night our yemschik contrived to drive us up against a tree, to the irretrievable injury of the hood of our tarantass. misfortunes seemed to come thick upon us and our ill-fated tarantass. indeed, considering the terrible ordeal it had passed through, it was surprising that it had held together so long. apprehension is lively in the dark hours, and visions of a final break down haunted us all that night, as we threaded our way in the deep shade of the forest, pitching and rolling like a ship in a storm. our minds were sensibly relieved on reaching the town of ishimskaya, at daybreak on the th of october. here we found old barnaul and his cossack sleeping soundly on the boards. he had arrived the evening before, but had allowed himself to be cajoled into resting all night, and now it was too late to cross the river. the post that had passed us the day before had crossed the river in a boat at midnight, but since then the ice had set in so strong that the passage was impossible. it was therefore necessary to wait at the station till the ice on the river was strong enough to bear horses and carriages. the station-master was a pole, a very good sort of fellow, who would talk on any subject but poland. he was something of a sportsman, possessed two old guns and some under-bred pointers. his wealth consisted in three curious old-fashioned watches, which he offered for sale. one was by dent, and he informed us he had bought it of a traveller for roubles. as the force of circumstances compelled us to spend the day at ishimskaya, we endeavoured to make the most of it, and tried to induce the postmaster to accompany us on a shooting excursion. this he declined, but proffered us all the topographical information necessary to enable us to find the game for ourselves. so armed, we plunged into the woods, and beat about for hours among the snow without the satisfaction of seeing a feather, or finding traces on the snow of anything but vermin. we returned about sunset, tired and cold, spite of all our walking, and an irreverent magpie, on the outskirts of the town, paid the penalty of our disappointment. the delay at this outlandish place was the more vexatious that it was within less than a day's march from tomsk, where we purposed resting a day or two to refit. on the second morning we again stirred up the postmaster, but he absolutely refused to attempt the crossing with our tarantass. one traveller had come to grief that same morning trying to get a carriage over the ice. we resolved, however, to go without the tarantass, packing up a few necessaries in a small sledge, which we had drawn over the river by one horse, two more being sent from the station and put to on the other side. old barnaul accompanied us. the tarantass we left behind in charge of schwartz, with orders to follow on as soon as the ice was strong enough to bear the carriage. let it not be supposed that the same place that was open for boats on the th of october was frozen strong enough to bear horses and sledges thirty-six hours afterwards. when the river is freezing the ferry is removed to some distance, where a passage is kept open as long as possible by the constant traffic of boats. during that time the usual crossing at the post-road is left to freeze quietly, so that by the time the temporary ferry is no longer practicable, the ice at the regular ferry may be thick enough to bear the traffic. old barnaul managed to slip on the ice and fall into a hole that had been broken by the horses' feet. a more miserable-looking object, on his emersion from the cold bath, i never saw. in the sledge his clothes became sheets of hard ice, but we were, fortunately for him, delayed for want of horses at the second station from ishimskaya, so that the old man had time to melt down his congealed habiliments. a good deal of snow fell during the day, but still the roughness of the road was but slightly mitigated thereby. the sledge was comparatively easy, however, the runners lying on two or more hillocks at once, instead of jolting up and down each separate lump, like the wheel of a carriage. during the night we were again stopped, with a number of other travellers, for want of horses, and it was o'clock on the morning of the st november ere we entered on the last stage before tomsk. our sledges were quite open, and we could but abandon ourselves to the enjoyment of a night scene more gorgeous than fancy ever pictured. the snow had ceased falling, and the sky was clear and cloudless. not a breath of wind stirred. it was a little past full moon, and the pure white surface of the ground sparkled in the bright moonlight as if it had been strewn with diamonds. some of the finest constellations were high above the horizon. orion, taurus, and gemini were conspicuous; and sirius was never seen in greater splendour. towards daybreak, venus appeared in all her glory, and completed the most brilliant group of celestial phenomena the human eye ever rested on. there is a peculiar transparency in the siberian sky, both by night and by day, but it needs a still frosty night to show it off to its best advantage. long before daylight we passed numerous trains of peasants, with their sledges, driving towards tomsk with their daily supplies of provisions for the market. before sunrise we entered the town of tomsk, and were not sorry when old barnaul conducted us to a lodging-house, where we could thaw ourselves and take rest. we were made excessively comfortable there by the old lady and her daughters. the _cuisine_ was excellent, attendance good, and charges very moderate. our room was adorned with a number of pictures. christ and the apostles, with some others of saints, were most conspicuous. a view of kazan, the column of alexander at st. petersburg, coloured german lithographs of the bombardment of sevastopol and the battle of inkermann, and, finally, a certificate, signed and sealed, purporting that the old lady had made a donation to "the church" in . great value appeared to be set on this document, but whether the lady regarded her good deed as laying up treasures in heaven, or thought the evidence of it, given under the hands of holy men, to be proof against ill luck, is not easy to say. it is difficult to separate the religion of russians from the gross superstition with which it is mixed up. the upper classes, as a whole, keep aloof from religious observances, while the peasant class are constantly crossing themselves to churches and saints, and never will enter a room without uncovering the head and doing reverence to the picture of the saint that always faces them as they enter the door. many excellent men are to be found in the russian priesthood, but as a class they certainly do not stand high. the russian government has always used the clergy to work on the illiterate masses by means of their superstitious fanaticism. the cross was borne in front of the troops in st. isaac's square when nicholas put down the insurrection of . and the empress catherine ii., whose life was the reverse of all piety, invoked the protection of the saints in order to excite the enthusiasm of the people. the russian peasants are pharisaical in their observance of saints' days and fast days, but their sense of religion stops there. a characteristic anecdote, illustrative of the religious sentiments of the russian moujik, was told us at tomsk. a moujik killed a traveller on the road, and robbed him. in his pocket was found a cake made with fat, which the moujik, being hungry, was preparing to eat, when he suddenly recollected that it was a fast day, on which it was unlawful to eat animal food. his religious creed, which placed no obstacle in the way of murder and robbery, was inexorable in the matter of eating meat on a fast day. tomsk is not equal to irkutsk in size or population, and lacks the mathematical symmetry which distinguishes the latter town. the buildings in tomsk are also less elegant, but they have an air of more homely comfort than those of irkutsk. its architectural defects are, however, amply compensated by the superior advantages of its site, as it is built upon several hills, sloping on one side to the river tom, and on the other side forming deep ravines, which gives the town a picturesque and even romantic appearance. a good many houses are built of brick, which the russians call _stone_. on the outskirts there are great assemblages of small, miserable-looking, wooden huts, which help to disfigure the town. the principal houses are insured against fire, and the emblem of the "salamander" fire office, nailed on the outer wall or over the door, meets the eye everywhere. fires are by no means common, which is surprising considering the combustible material of which the cities are constructed, and the necessity of keeping up large fires during at least six months of the year. nor do the inhabitants display any extraordinary caution in their habits, for though smoking in the streets (where it could not possibly do any harm) is strictly prohibited in russia and siberia, smoking within doors is universally practised by all classes. tomsk has been considered the coldest town in siberia on the same parallel of latitude. the temperature in winter is as low as - ° to - ° réaumur (- ° to - ° fahrenheit), but it is becoming milder. an english lady, who had resided there a dozen years, informed us that during that period a marked improvement in the climate was noticeable. the extension of agriculture has probably been the means of producing this change. during our stay in tomsk the thermometer showed - ° to - ° réaumur ( ° to ° fahrenheit). excellent water is procured from the river. water-carrying is quite a trade, employing a number of people from morning till night. a large hole in the ice is kept open, whence the water is carried up the steep bank in buckets, and conveyed through the town in carts, which are kept perfectly water-tight by the thick coating of ice that accumulates from the water dropped in filling. all classes in siberia are careful to cover themselves well from the cold. wealthy people muffle up in expensive furs, and the peasants attain the same end by means of sheep-skins or deer-skins, which cost very little. no peasant is so poor as to be without very substantial gauntlets, made of stout leather with some warm substance inside, which protect both hands and wrists. they make little of the cold, however, when their avocations necessitate the endurance of it. in tomsk, for example, it is not uncommon for the women to do their washing on the ice. cutting a hole with an axe, they will stand or kneel over the water till their work is done, without even the appearance of hurrying. how they escape frost-bite it is hard to understand. a few boys were seen skating on the river at tomsk, but so few in number, and so grave in their demeanour, that it was sad to see them. elsewhere we had observed skating in a small way, and in some villages small sledges even were used as playthings for children, but all so demurely as to be suggestive of the absence of real enjoyment. it may be that the siberians make little of the ice because they have so much of it. but all roystering games in which the exuberant spirits of youth in other countries delight, are conspicuous by their absence in siberia, and the _genus_, _little boy_, may almost be classed among the extinct mammals. so much the worse is it for the country. the youth who grow up without a taste for manly exercises are very likely, in maturer years, to betake themselves to in-door recreations of the most unprofitable kind. many of the largest mining proprietors have their town residences in tomsk, and about four thousand workmen are in the habit of wintering in the towns, and spending their earnings there. i will here note a few particulars relative to mining in siberia, supplied by a gentleman of extensive personal experience in that department. siberia is rich in nearly all mineral treasures; but little attention has been paid to any but gold and silver, and even few of the latter mines have been worked. the richest gold-diggings that have ever been worked in siberia are situated in the northern part of the government of yeniseisk, but they are now nearly worked out. very rich diggings, or mines, have also been worked in the altai-saian chain, or "white mountains," in the south of the same province, on the chinese frontier. within a recent period, gold has likewise been worked in the northern part of the government of irkutsk, and in the trans-baikal regions, which have only lately been thrown open to private enterprise. within the last two or three years, gold discoveries in the amoor districts have attracted thither many exploring parties, but i have not ascertained what success has attended their efforts. gold-diggings are to be met with in nearly all the uninhabited parts of siberia. but in western siberia the gold-fields are almost worked out, so that they are now of little value, and are carried on only in a small way. in the kirghis steppe there is one very rich silver mine, called the zmeiewskoi, the property of a private family in tomsk, the descendants of the first discoverer of gold in siberia. this gentleman turned his discovery to good account. he was the first who worked gold-diggings in siberia, and obtained many immunities from the government, who have always eagerly promoted the working of that metal. in his lifetime, he amassed a colossal fortune, and at his death, left mining property of enormous value. his successors, however, contrived to dissipate their inheritance by various means; but the silver mine in the kirghis steppe has once more raised them to affluence. the government gold, silver, copper, and iron mines are worked by criminals, condemned to hard labour, after having undergone corporal punishment for capital offences. they receive no pay for their labour, but only food and clothing enough to keep body and soul together. the works are all under the control and management of officers trained in the mine corps, called mining engineers. these officers are strongly imbued with the national weakness of peculation, and their position affords them ample opportunities for promoting their own personal interests. generally far removed, in uninhabited regions, from the surveillance of superiors, no efficient check can be put on their doings. as a necessary consequence of this state of matters, all government mining works are very far behind private ones in machinery, and indeed in everything else essential to their efficiency, and are therefore unproductive. so far from being a source of revenue to the government, they are, for the most part, a constant expense. these mines are all private property of the crown, and within the last five years the emperor, despairing of being able to work them to a profit, has proposed leasing them out to private individuals, and would now gladly do so were persons of sufficient capital and enterprise to come forward. private gold-diggings and mines, and, in a few instances, silver mines also, generally situated in entirely uninhabited parts of siberia, are ceded by government to private individuals on certain conditions. the applicant must be either a hereditary nobleman, or he must have the right of doing business as a merchant of the second class, and must pay the dues of the second guild. the portion of ground ceded to him is seven versts (nearly five miles) in length, and one hundred fathoms in breadth. the place always chosen is along the margin of a stream flowing through the mountains. hence the elongated form of the allotment is adopted, in order to include as much water privilege as possible. the claimant may, however, if he chooses, take a greater breadth, but in that case the length must be reduced so as to give the same area. the river, or stream, is always included in the claim, as the richest gold is often found in its bed. the land, once allotted, is the property of the claimant only until it has been entirely worked out, or has been thrown up and abandoned, when it reverts to the crown. or, if not worked by the claimant at least one out of every three years, the claim is forfeited to the government, who may let it out to another applicant. the object of the government is to promote the working of gold, in order to secure the revenue from it, which is of some importance, as all gold must be delivered to the mint at a fixed price, which leaves a good profit to the government. then, as to the manner of working the mines. to get at the gold-sands an upper layer of earth, varying in depth from five up to thirty-five or forty feet, must be carted away. on the depth and extent of earth necessary to be removed principally depends the value of a gold-digging, and the first business of the speculator is to discover whether the gold-sands are rich enough to pay for the removal of the upper strata. to ascertain this, shafts are sunk at various distances over the ground where the works are proposed to be opened, and the exact depth of the upper layer taken. then the gold-sands are bored through, and their depth ascertained. the proportion of gold contained in a given quantity of sand is next ascertained. with these _data_, an easy calculation will show the practical miner whether the claim will be remunerative. the outlay in buildings and machinery necessary to start the work is very heavy, the expense of conveying the materials to the spot being alone a considerable item. for what are considered small works, employing from four to five hundred workmen, at least ten thousand pounds must be laid out in buildings and machinery. the works require a constant expense to keep up, and alterations and additions are frequently needed. after all, the works must be abandoned as valueless when the claim is worked out, or given up as unremunerative, as the cost of removing them to an inhabited region would far exceed the saleable value of the materials. many diggings employ as many as two, and even three, thousand workmen. the largest item in the working expenses is the wear and tear of horseflesh, and one horse for every two men employed is considered necessary in the calculation of the years expenses. provisions for the men, and corn and hay for the cattle, are brought during the winter months from distances of four or five hundred versts, and do not cost much. the free peasant seldom goes to work at the diggings, for, if at all industriously inclined, he can earn much more by agriculture at home. the workmen employed at the diggings are generally convicts sent to siberia for theft and minor offences. bad characters of all sorts, drunkards, vagabonds, men who will not settle to any steady work, convicts who have paid the penalty of the law, but have not found homes of their own--these are the kind of men who find a refuge in the gold-diggings. when all his money is gone, the digger engages himself to a proprietor for three roubles per month (equal to nine shillings). this looks a small sum for an able-bodied man to earn, but his regular wages is a matter of minor importance to the scapegrace who thus engages himself. his primary object is to obtain the _hand-money_, amounting to five or ten pounds sterling, which is paid him by his employer on making the contract. out of this sum, as much of his debt is paid as the authorities are cognizant of, and with the whole of the balance he proceeds deliberately to get drunk, the extent and duration of his _spree_ depending solely on the amount of money in his possession. he is then ready to proceed to the gold-works, and with one or two hundred comrades, under the charge of a couple of clerks, he is despatched to the scene of his labours. on arriving there, the digger has invariably to be clothed from head to foot by his master, and generally by the opening of the summer months, the beginning of the gold-washing season, the workman has contracted a debt to his master equal to twenty or twenty-five pounds sterling. the working-season lasts about days in the year, and terminates invariably on the - september. to enable the workman to reduce his debt, and possibly have some money in hand on receiving his discharge at the end of the season, he is handsomely paid for all extra work he may do, over and above the daily task assigned to each. no holidays, sundays, or saints' days are allowed to a workman who is in debt. the law compels him to work on these days. what with compulsory and voluntary labour, a workman has it in his power to earn from five to seven pounds sterling per month. but he must work very hard to do it. the bell is rung at half-past two in the morning; by three o'clock he must be at work, all weathers. he seldom can leave off before nine in the evening. he is allowed half-an-hour for breakfast, an hour for dinner, half-an-hour for tea, and he takes his supper after the labour of the day is finished. the task generally set for the day is the breaking up and carting away of two cubic fathoms of earth to every five men and two horses. extra work is allowed up to one-half of the daily task, and for extra work the workman receives pay at nearly ten times the rate of his contract wages. if a workman finds a piece of gold he is also paid extra for that according to its value. when not working "extra," the five men are allowed to leave the field as soon as their task is done, whatever hour of the day it may be. the workmen at these gold-diggings are well fed, as indeed their excessive labour renders it necessary they should be. each man is allowed from one pound to one pound and a-half of beef _per diem_. this is a luxury to him, for the russian peasant at home seldom can afford to eat meat except on great holidays. salt, buckwheat or other grain, and as much bread as he can eat, are daily issued to the workman. his lodging is made as comfortable as possible, every care being taken to have the barracks dry, warm, and well ventilated. their health is also in a general way well-cared for. every gold-digging has a fully equipped hospital, with a superintendent in charge, who must have some medical knowledge. a qualified surgeon either resides on the premises or on a neighbouring establishment, his services being paid for jointly by two or more proprietors. the surgeon has then the general superintendence of hospitals, and the care of the sick over the district. the proprietor of these works in fact takes as much care of his workmen as he would do of his horses, knowing well that unless they are kept healthy and contented, it would be impossible to exact the desired amount of work out of them. besides the fixed rations of food, large stocks of corn-brandy (_vodka_) are kept for the men, who each get a tumblerful of the liquor two or three times a month, by way of counteracting the effect of the rawness of the climate. of clothing also, large magazines are kept by the proprietors, and the workmen supplied with them as required for winter or summer wear. tobacco is also considered a necessary, and is extensively consumed by all russians. it is thought to be anti-scorbutic, and good for the climate. supplies of brick tea are kept on hand, and of this article every workman consumes at least one pound per month. all these articles are supplied to the labourer in advance of his wages, and reckoned up when he gets his discharge. but even should he be deeply in debt the supplies are not withheld, the proprietor wisely considering that one sick man would be a dead loss far exceeding the cost of the few extras he might need. the proprietor obtains all the goods he requires at wholesale prices, in the principal commercial and manufacturing towns, and they are supplied to the workmen at lower prices than they themselves could purchase them. the goods are always of the best quality, and it would not be considered respectable for a proprietor of gold-diggings to take a profit from his workmen on the articles supplied to them. to the original cost is added the expense of transit, and at the most an interest of three or four per cent. on the outlay. even the latter item is not always charged. when the gold-washing season is all over, the majority of the workmen find their way to some of the large towns with the balance of wages in hand, and spend the winter in riot and wantonness, often no doubt in great misery, until the next season comes round. they seldom or never think of saving money, or of bettering their condition. chapter xviii. tomsk to omsk. while waiting for our servant to come up with the tarantass, we had sundry matters to look to in tomsk before committing ourselves once more to the road, of which we continued to hear shocking accounts. our portmanteaus were so smashed by the concussions the hard rough roads had exposed us to, as to be unfit for further service, and it was necessary to replace them with russian _chemadáns_. this is an excellent contrivance for rough travelling; being constructed of soft leather, hard knocks have no effect, and it is capable of being so tightly lashed up as to be practically waterproof. it has also this advantage over an ordinary trunk or portmanteau, that whether it is full or not, there is no empty space left in it to block up the carriage where there is no room to spare. a few accessories, in the way of fur gloves and such like, completed our wardrobe so far. to replace a broken thermometer we were led into an optician's establishment, managed by some clever germans. here we were surprised to find as good an assortment of instruments as is usually to be met with in any similar establishment in this country. telescopes, microscopes, transit-instruments, theodolites, and all kinds of surveying instruments, of excellent workmanship, were there for sale. everything, except the very simplest articles, was of foreign make, many of them german, but mostly french. we had been strongly advised at the outset of our siberian travels to provide ourselves with feather pillows, after the manner of the russians, to use as buffers between our prominent bones and the hard substance of the carriage. judging that our bedding would suffice, we, with the vanity of ignorance, rejected these good counsels in defiance of the well-known travelling maxim which inculcates the wisdom of taking your cue from the people of the country. our carcases had been so unmercifully knocked about on the road to tomsk, that we dared not go farther without pillows. it was not so easy to find them, however; for although tomsk is said to be celebrated for them we could not hit on the right place to buy them. they are sold at about fourteen roubles per pood ( lbs.). our landlady was appealed to, but she avowed that there was not, and never could have been, any such thing in tomsk, least of all had she any to dispose of. we were actually beginning to despair of pillows when a young russianised german introduced himself to us, and, as usual in such _rencontres_, the conversation turned on civilisation. we happened to allude to the pillow difficulty, as proving the primitive state of society in tomsk. on this our friend at once undertook to provide us. he went first to the old lady, and then to the younger members, none of whom he had seen before, and spent full half an hour ingratiating himself with them. the pillow question was in due time gently hinted at, and before very long one, and then another, and another, was produced, until we had pillows to our hearts' content. delighted with his success, we begged our friend to tell us how he had achieved it. "first," he said, in very good english, "you must beat about the bush with these ---- russians; you must flatter them and humbug them. then you must talk about everything but _the_ thing. if you want to buy a horse, you must pretend you want to sell a cow, and so work gradually round to the point in view." he went on to tell us how he had coaxed and cajoled the good people into parting with their pillows, and how he backed up his requests by a touching appeal to their sense of hospitality. "you have two distinguished foreigners in your house, they are very good people, and you ought to treat them with the kindness due to strangers from distant countries. when russians go to their country they are well treated. but if you refuse this small favour to these people, they will go home and tell their countrymen what beasts the russians are," &c. we were in a dilemma about the mode of travelling from tomsk. our tarantass was very much the worse for the wear, and on bad roads it might break down at any time. it would hardly be safe to leave the town with it. it would be equally imprudent to purchase a sledge, for there was very little snow; none fell during our stay, and there was reported to be none to the westward. we might of course use the post-carriages, but that mode of travelling has many inconveniences. it is uncomfortable in the extreme to sit in, and it necessitates changing at every station. the nuisance of turning out luggage, and turning out one's-self, every few hours, multiplies tenfold all the horrors of the road. had we listened to the advice proffered to us on all hands in tomsk we should have remained there till snow fell, which might be in one week or in six. we were entertained with terrible accounts of the road through the baraba steppe, and the post had been six days coming from kolivan, a town only miles from tomsk. the delay was attributed entirely to the roads, but making due allowance for russian vagueness, we thought it just as likely to have been due to the difficulty of crossing some of the large rivers. in this uncertainty a diversion occurred in the advent of schwartz, on the third day, minus the tarantass. he had been talked into the impossibility of getting it over the ice, and was induced to sell it for the small sum of ten roubles silver. the russians designate their paper money by the high-sounding term "silver" roubles, _lucus à non lucendo_. this crowning act of folly, coupled with the fact of his having left behind (or sold) sundry articles which were in the tarantass, determined us to give mr. schwartz "the sack," and nothing but reflection on the probable consequences of his being left with no money, and a blighted character, to the "cold charity of the world," caused us to relent. old barnaul left us a few hours after schwartz's arrival. his destination lay nearly due south from tomsk, a few stations beyond which town the road to barnaul branches off from the moscow road. the old gentleman refused to leave us entirely by ourselves, and had cheerfully sacrificed two whole days of his time, simply to keep us company until our own man came up. there was much genuine kindness in this, as in all his intercourse with us, and we parted with the pleasantest recollections on both sides (i hope). having made all necessary arrangements for resuming our journey, and armed ourselves with a pass from the director-general of posts for western siberia, we started on the th november in a post kibitka, with the intention of buying a sledge when we found an opportunity, and snow enough to use it. it was late in the afternoon before we got away from tomsk, and dark before we emerged from the thick wood into which we plunged on leaving the town. the post-station had been at a village eighteen versts from tomsk, but on arriving there we learned that it had been removed that very day to a place more convenient for crossing the river tom, or on the other side of the tom, for it was hard to deduce any positive conclusion from the various and partially contradictory statements we heard. at all events, be the new station where it might, our yemschiks refused to drive us any further than the old station in the village. to be cast adrift with our baggage in a village where no accredited officer of the government was located, would have consigned us to unknown troubles. we refused, therefore, to let the yemschiks go, but insisted on their proceeding to the next station, wherever it might be. the assistance of the starust, or village elder, was invoked, and he, with a few peasants, piloted us at our request to the river tom, that we might examine for ourselves the state of the crossing. the ice was good, and apparently strong enough to bear the carriages, but the yemschiks lapsed into a state of mulish obstinacy, and refused to stir. the starust and his satellites, all speaking at once, held forth vigorously on general topics for the edification of the company, and went to bed. as for us, we had simply to keep possession of the carriages, and leave the rest to time. the yemschiks would get hungry, the horses would certainly have to be fed, and we might hope that when they got tired of waiting they would go on. with this idea we committed ourselves to rest in the kibitka. it was sadly deficient in comfort, as compared with our old tarantass. the kibitka is open in front, and rather over-ventilated everywhere. cold kept sleep from our eyes for a time, while our ears were regaled with spasmodic bursts of indignation from the yemschiks, who now threatened to take us back to tomsk, bag and baggage. to these attacks we offered nothing but passive resistance, and even the yemschiks wearied of a discussion so entirely one-sided. we were lulled to sleep in time by the chanting of some wild native airs by a russian family in a neighbouring house. their songs, many of them very sweet, are mostly, if not all, of the plaintive order. a drunken "brute of a husband," whom his poor wife was trying to decoy homewards, was the only incident that broke in upon the dead stillness of the night scene in the village of kaltarskaya. there stood our wearied horses in the street that livelong night, bearing their sufferings from cold and hunger with resignation. how the yemschiks bestowed themselves during the night i know not. one at least must have kept awake to watch the horses. as morning approached the cold proved too much for my somnolence, and i was fain to turn out and grope my way into the house that had until the previous day been the post-station. on getting the door of a room open, the warm, fulsome exhalations of closely pent-up human beings that greeted the nostrils were enough to have produced a revolution in a sensitive stomach. the hard breathing of some, and the more sonorous articulations of others, enabled me to ascertain the positions of the heads of most of the sleepers, but still with every care i came into collision with sundry legs and trunks in my voyage across the floor in quest of a clear space where i might stretch myself. at length i discovered an unoccupied bench or table, and yielded to the luxury of sleep till daylight. when i again opened my eyes, my night companions had begun to stir about. some were engaged in their toilet, which consists in stretching legs and arms, yawning a little, shaking up their clothes, and tightening the scarf which forms their girdle. by stooping low on entering the room i had escaped a broken head from a false ceiling which was used as a sleeping bunk. this is a common arrangement in post-houses, where the family of the post-master and all the yemschiks and hangers-on of the establishment are often jumbled up together, some climbing up to the top of the brick stove to sleep, and others lying on the boarded floor or ceiling which overhangs part of the room like a hay-loft. the russian houses generally are built on traditional principles, the first thing aimed at being the exclusion of _air_, and consequently cold. they always feel warm, the temperature during the day being kept up to a pretty uniform scale by the large stoves. at night the fires go out, but the house retains its heat until about daylight in the morning, when it begins to feel a little chilly. there is scarcely one perfectly level floor in the country, and many of the houses, especially the old ones, are tipped up at one end so that the line of the roof makes a very wide angle with the level ground. some indeed tumble over altogether, where the owners are too poor or too indifferent to take them down before they progress so far towards demolition. this phenomenon is not caused by the sinking of one end from the timbers rotting in the ground, but by the action of frost in the earth, which, unless the uprights are sunk deep enough, expands with cold so much as to heave up the foundations of the houses. early in the morning our yemschiks had made up their minds to take us over the river and to the next station. they had first to obtain the services of some peasants from the village, to pilot them over the ice. this local knowledge was necessary to enable them to avoid holes that had been only recently frozen, and other dangerous places. the tom was here a fine broad expanse of ice, white with snow, very rough and lumpy. the crossing was satisfactorily effected, and we made the best of our way during the day through a flat, barren, and most uninteresting country, but still well wooded. a little snow fell, but only to tantalise us, for the ground never got covered more than half an inch. soon after daylight on the th, we arrived at a station on the right bank of the river ob, which was the most formidable-looking obstacle to progress we had yet encountered. but as we had only ourselves and our baggage to get over, no serious difficulties were made, though we were threatened with trouble from a gang of drunken ice-men. the ob, obe, obi or oby, for all these spellings are used, is a noble river, and at the point where we crossed it is nearly half-a-mile wide. the current is rapid, and ice had only formed along the edges of the water. the difficulty in crossing arose from the huge masses of floating ice that were carried rapidly down by the current. to avoid being shut in by these small icebergs required all the dexterity of the adepts who manned the ferry-boat. not only skill, but real hard work was necessary. poles and boat-hooks were vigorously plied. the short paddle-oars were of comparatively little use; but by hooking on to the floating ice and hauling round them, then shoving off into clear water for a short space, and hooking on to the next lump of ice, we managed to thread our way through. the current had carried us down stream, but it was not nearly so strong on the left side of the channel, and there was a good breadth of clear water there which enabled the men to recover their lost ground. on reaching the landing-place, a rope was passed ashore, that is, to the solid ice, and the boat hauled up bodily far enough on the ice to enable horses to fetch the luggage. the sides and bottom of the boat being thickly coated with ice, enabled the men to slide her about with great facility. from tomsk our course had turned southerly, following the course of the river tom, and striking the ob obliquely. from the ob we turned west again, and entered the great baraba steppe. two stages from the ob we reached the town of kolivan, which is perhaps the most dreary, cold-looking town in siberia, situated in a perfectly bare country, and exposed to every wind that blows. it possessed a peculiar interest for us, however, as being the then most easterly telegraph station in siberia. the tomsk station had been completed, but the manager had not arrived to inaugurate the opening when we left. kolivan, being a second-rate station, only russian messages could be sent; but having got a gentleman in tomsk to write one out in that language, i was enabled to send a telegram from kolivan to st. petersburg, a distance of miles. many repetitions were necessary in the transmission of this message, but it was delivered with perfect accuracy in thirty-six hours. the siberian telegraph, being now completed as far as irkutsk, will no doubt be extended in time to the amoor country. it is also probable that a branch will be formed from irkutsk to kiachta, and the russians in siberia confidently believe that their government will establish a line across mongolia to peking. the baraba steppe is, for the most part, one vast marsh, extending from the left bank of the river ob westward to tumen. it borders on the kirghis steppe on the south, and is apparently a continuation of it. its natural features are barren, being at the best a succession of wild prairies. the grass is long and coarse, but there is so much water on the ground that, in the summer season, the grass can hardly be available for pasture. the steppe is bare of wood, with the exception of strips here and there of dwarf birch-trees, which struggle for existence. in some of its more elevated parts, trees grow to a good size, but these spots are like oases in the desert. the inhabitants of the steppe are few, and lack the comforts enjoyed by the natives of other parts of siberia. villages are thinly scattered, and poor and mean-looking. the principal subsistence of the people consists in their cattle, and at every village a large tract of common land is fenced in for pasture. at the stations in baraba the post-master is seldom found at home, the domestic part of the establishment being generally left in charge of women, and the posting-department in that of the senior yemschik. the women in the steppe, we were informed, are mostly kirghis, called by the russians by the generic name of tartars. the kirghis women are physically superior to russian women of the same class,--cleaner, better dressed, and handsomer. they have, in many instances, blue eyes and fair complexions, in marked contrast to the kalmuks and mongols. in manners they are more cheerful than the russians. game abounds in the steppe. blackcock were in some parts met with in great numbers. pure white pheasants and _ryabchik_ are plentiful, and, i have been told, though i did not see any, that the ptarmigan and capercailzie are also to be found. the most conspicuous objects in the steppe are the windmills, a number of which are to be found round every village. these are the only marks that exist in the country, and they indicate the positions of the villages long before any other evidence of habitation is visible. they are primitive in construction. in order to face the wind the whole fabric is moved round on its axis by means of a clumsy, but powerful lever. the road through baraba looks like a strip of ploughed land in a desert, and was frozen so roughly that if solely depended on, traffic would soon have been brought to a stand. as it was, the heavy cart caravans were stopped for a time, and very few travellers were met with on this part of the journey. we rarely travelled on the road at all, only crossing it occasionally in quest of tracks through the open country. the frozen marsh greatly facilitated our progress. there was enough grass overspreading the ice to enable the horses to keep a footing, and by taking advantage of every sheet of ice we came to, we managed, by circuitous paths, to keep clear of the main road. the weather was mild in the steppe. the sun was strong enough in the middle of the day to melt the thin covering of snow that lay on the ground; and even the nights were not so cold as we had experienced to the eastward. snow fell occasionally, but not enough to make a sledge-road. slow as our progress was, it was quicker than we could have anticipated, and it was some satisfaction to keep ahead of the post which left tomsk at the same time with us. our yemschiks in the steppe were an unusually drunken set, but though often in jeopardy, we escaped without accident, saving one upset. passing kainsk on the th, we reached the town of omsk at midnight on the th, putting up at the hôtel moscow, an establishment of the same empty, comfortless character as other siberian hotels. omsk is built round a hill at the junction of the om river with the irtish. it has a population of about , ; and is at present the residence of the governor-general of western siberia. this functionary had recently made a tour to the kirghis frontier, where some disputes had occurred between the russian soldiers at the outposts and the kirghis tribes. these _émeutes_ are of constant occurrence. the cossacks at the russian stations make raids on their own account on the kirghis people, and subject them to very rough treatment. an outbreak among the kirghis occurs, which requires a military force to subdue. an expedition for this purpose is sent every year to the kirghis steppe--the russian outposts are pushed further and further south--more disturbances occur, and so the frontier is, year by year, extended, on the pretext of keeping the peace. that has been the system pursued by the russian government in all its aggressions in asia. siberia is dotted all over with old forts, which have become obsolete as the country has become quiet and settled under russian sway. one of the strongest of these works is on the hill that stands in the middle of the town of omsk. it is almost intact, and still kept up after a fashion. on the kirghis frontier forts continue to be planted as footholds on the soil, and centres from which outlying territories may be subjugated. a great deal of injustice, oppression, and cruelty have unquestionably attended the aggressions of russia among the various asiatic races, but in the long run the results have been rather beneficial than prejudicial to the tribes. the kirghis who live as russian subjects in the province of omsk, are probably more comfortable than their semi-nomad brethren who feed their cattle on the southern steppes. the mongol tribes who dwell under the auspices of russia under the name of bouriats, are more cultivated, and lead a more civilised life than the mongols proper. they enjoy some degree of comfort, and have undoubtedly improved by their contact with the russians. the wild hunting tribes, again, who inhabit the forests of northern manchuria, recently annexed to russia, are said to have longed greatly to be transferred from allegiance to the autocrat of china to that of the tsar. on the whole, the ambitious projects of russia have been the means of spreading the benefits of civilisation and christianity (in a much diluted form, it must be confessed) to many savage tribes. highroads have been opened through deserts, and commerce has followed in the wake of conquest. the tribes who have become russian enjoy, under the shelter of a strong government, immunity from war with neighbouring tribes, to which they were in former times constantly exposed, and have at least the opportunity of giving more attention to the arts of peace. of course many bad, as well as good, results have flowed from the contact of russians with these barbarous people. those who were too low in the scale of humanity to bear the shock of a superior order of life, have been demoralised by it. the tunguses and ostiaks, who live in the northern parts of the provinces of the irkutsk and yeniseisk, are of a very low order of savages. the tunguses are thievish, treacherous and cowardly, and live solely by fishing and hunting. the ostiaks live almost entirely on and about the water, eat little else but fish when they can get it. they wander as far north as the frozen ocean. when deprived of their usual food in winter, they are reduced to eating carrion and garbage of all kinds. in their habits they are filthily dirty. small-pox and drunkenness together make frightful havoc in their numbers. these tribes have been greatly injured by their contact with russians. naturally addicted to drunkenness, they have been supplied with ardent spirits to their heart's content by the invaders. the use of money being unknown to them, they only receive brandy in exchange for their services and products. they supply the gold-diggings with game, which brings them in return large quantities of spirits. they also act as guides to exploring parties, and such services are invariably requited with brandy. to obtain this liquor seems indeed to be the main object of their lives, and they have recourse to the most extraordinary expedients to gain their purpose. they are low idolaters, but they know how to turn to account the solicitude of the russian church for proselytising. they will allow themselves to be baptised in consideration of a bottle of brandy, but on the next favourable opportunity, they will pass over to another part of the country, and again offer themselves as candidates for baptism, if a similar inducement be held out. brandy is fast ruining these people, and in a few generations they are likely to become extinct--a catastrophe which will have been greatly accelerated by the russian settlers. the reverse of this is the case with the nomad tribes who are spread over the steppes of the southern districts of siberia. their nomad habits have been so far circumscribed that they remain for many years together in the same places, moving only to suit the seasons and the pastures for their horses. they have a fixed place where they live in spring, but move off for the summer months, then again to winter quarters. at each of these encampments they leave their tents of felt or skins standing, thus evincing great confidence in the security of life and property. these tribes use tents of the same construction as those of the mongols; but, unlike them, they care little for the rearing of horned cattle or sheep, their wealth consisting in horses, of which they keep large herds. they do not practise agriculture, but live a great deal by the chase, and a few of them carry on a kind of wandering trade. they obtain bread and other necessaries of life in barter for the skins of wild animals, but never part with their horses until hard pressed by necessity. if they have no skins, they will rather want bread than sell their horses. these tribes respect themselves, and command the respect of others by the strict sobriety of their habits, their general honesty, and cleanliness. they are mostly mahometans. in many respects these people stand higher than the russians, and are not likely to be demoralised by them. another mahometan tribe may be mentioned in this category--the _yakuts_, who occupy some of the northern part of the province of irkutsk. they are no longer nomads, although they still live in tents. the yakuts are very industrious people, rear large herds of horses and cattle, occupy themselves with trade, are skilled in ironwork, and have more recently taken to agriculture. they bear the character of sobriety, and are much more cleanly in their habits than any neighbouring tribes. the yakuts have a tradition that they were once settled in the province of kazan, whence they were expelled during the great irruption of tartars into russia, and wandered to their present habitat before they settled. the wildest and most unmanageable of all the siberian aborigines are the _khargasses_, who live about the altai mountains on the chinese frontiers, in the south of the provinces of yeniseisk and irkutsk. the khargasses are quite nomad, carrying tent and all with them when they move. they are said to be fierce and treacherous, perfectly uncivilised, and idolaters. it is a common practice with them when the time for the collection of their _essak_, or poll-tax, comes, to strike their tents, and cross the mountains to chinese territory. there they remain until some similar claim is made on them on behalf of the emperor of china, when they again pack up and return to siberia. the khargasses are great hunters, and live on the produce of their guns. they own no cattle, their riches consisting of reindeer and guns, like the tunguses. we saw two small tug steamers and six huge barges frozen-in at the junction of the om with the irtish. these barges go as far as tumen with their cargoes, but of this more hereafter. as there was still too little snow on the roads to warrant us in buying a sledge, we were obliged to continue undergoing the torture of a small kibitka, changing at every station. sleep had now become out of the question, and if we could get a nap once in forty-eight hours we had to be satisfied. eating was almost equally irregular, for the steppe afforded but few opportunities of enjoying a good meal. and yet this rough mode of life rather improved my health than otherwise. the constant exposure to the clear bracing siberian air was certainly most beneficial, and i am convinced of this, that with all its ice and snow, there is no finer--that is, more salubrious--climate in the world than siberia. chapter xix. omsk to ochansk. on the th november, we bade adieu to omsk at an early hour in the evening. at the end of the second stage, forty-four versts from omsk, we came to the river irtish. at the station we found an officer travelling with a courier's _padaroshna_, who had failed in an attempt to cross the river in the dark. this was a sufficient hint that _we_ had no chance, so we quietly lay by till morning, spending the night in the station in the company of the officer aforesaid. he was bound to the town of tara, some distance north of the place we met him. his mission was to convey recruits thence to st. petersburg. they are marched at the rate of thirty versts a day, which was slow enough to make us feel grateful for the moderate progress we had ourselves been making. recruiting was going on very extensively in siberia at this time. in russia proper, and in the territories subject to it, recruiting is carried out on similar principles. the empire is divided into two zones, southern and northern. in each zone recruits are levied every alternate five years. they are chosen from among the free peasants and agriculturists, and when levies are made, every proprietor tries to get rid of a bad subject. the usual levy is one in every thousand of the men; but the government always takes into consideration circumstances that may entitle certain provinces or districts to partial exemption,--such as a bad harvest, or other similar misfortunes, to which agriculture and cattle-breeding are liable. when these circumstances occur, the suffering districts frequently have the term of the levy postponed a certain number of years, and in many cases they are wholly exempted. all that is applicable to times of peace. in war time, the frequency, as well as the per-centage of the levies, depends entirely on the exigencies of the government. for instance, during the crimean war, recruiting in eastern siberia occurred twice in one year, and beginning at one man in a thousand, it increased gradually to seven in a thousand. the peasants on the rivers lena and yenisei are exempted from furnishing recruits on certain conditions, such as providing horses for travellers, and conveying the post, for which services they are of course paid besides. the peasants on the angara enjoy similar exemption in consideration of their providing pilots for that very dangerous river. next morning we crossed the irtish on the ice, without difficulty, and re-entered a frozen marsh, exactly similar to that part of the steppe which lies east of omsk, windmills and all. late in the evening, we passed through the town of tukalinsk. at daylight on the th, passed ishim. it snowed steadily all that day, and we soon had practicable sledge-roads, which enabled us to travel miles a day. early on the th, we passed through yalootorofsk, and the same evening arrived at tumen. finding at tumen a very comfortable covered sledge for sale at the post-station, we immediately purchased it, as well as a smaller one for the accommodation of mr. schwartz and the baggage. the posting from tumen westward is better organised than in eastern siberia. it is managed, not by government, but by a private company. no scarcity of horses is ever complained of in the company's line; for government takes care that the work is well done. but not the least of the improvements we experienced was, that we no longer required to pay the fare at every station. at tumen we paid our _progon_ through to ekaterineburg, and had no more trouble about it. in consideration of these facilities, double the government rate of fare is charged by the company from tumen to perm. eastward the rate is about three-farthings per mile per horse. westward from tumen it is three-halfpence per horse. [illustration: view of ekaterinburg. siberia. from a photograph. (page .)] we are now fairly through the great marshy steppe. the country from tumen is undulating, and thick pine forests reappear. we were in thorough condition to enjoy the soft luxury of travelling in a warm sledge, gliding so smoothly over the snow that at times we could not tell whether it was in motion; and it is not very surprising that we slept the greater part of the way to ekaterineburg. hunger even could not seduce us out of our snug retreat. the distance from tumen to ekaterineburg is miles,--time occupied thirty-five hours. this is far from being a quick rate for sledge travelling, but the roads had not yet been properly formed, and in many places even the ground was quite bare of snow, the little that had fallen having been blown away by the wind. ekaterineburg is first sighted at some miles' distance through the vista formed by the road. a few scattered streets of small log houses form the outskirts of the town, and give one a poor opinion of the place. on emerging from the forest the town itself bursts on the view, and produces an impression of elegance, comfort, and even grandeur. it is spread over a large surface, and is divided into two parts by the river irchet, which, though a small stream, widens out here to the dimensions of a lake. the situation of the town shows it off to better advantage than the other towns we had passed through as more of it can be seen at once. the proportion of brick-built houses to wooden ones is much larger, and the array of handsome churches and public buildings is more imposing. the bridge which connects the two portions of the town enhances considerably the beautiful effect of the whole. although an improvement on the rest, especially in the matter of stone houses, ekaterineburg presents a strong family likeness to the other large towns in siberia, and is a fair specimen of the general type. the population is about , . the government mint is the most important building in ekaterineburg. the principal coinage is copper, and i think i am right in stating that all the copper currency of russia and siberia is coined there. the ural (pronounced by russians _oo-rál_) range, at the foot of which stands the town, is rich in precious stones, the cutting and setting of which is a standing occupation for a great number of people. the government lapidary establishment was formerly celebrated, but through neglect or mismanagement it has sadly fallen off of late, and very little of interest is now to be seen there. strangers in ekaterineburg are beset by little boys of most agreeable address, regular walking polyglots, who bring for sale amethysts, topazes, and other stones, with heaps of malachite, which latter is the most abundant in the neighbourhood. there are several large iron-foundries in this place, the best one belonging to an englishman who has been many years resident in siberia. the mention of this gentleman recalls pleasing recollections of the kindness we received from him and his family on the day we rested there. it is refreshing to meet a countryman in such a far-off region, and this circumstance greatly enhances one's appreciation of true hospitality. there is a fair sprinkling of englishmen scattered over siberia, and there is considerable scope for their enterprise, both in private undertakings and as government servants. one gentleman who preceded us a few days in the homeward journey had lived some years at stretnoi, the head of the amoor navigation, in charge of the government machine-shop there. his salary is roubles silver (_i.e._ paper) per annum, with the perquisites of a house, fire, and light. he was so well satisfied with his post that he was then travelling to england to return with his family to stretnoi, some versts beyond the baikal lake. this instance out of many shows first that the english skill in machinery is prized by the russian government, and also that even the most remote districts of siberia are not very disagreeable as places of residence. but to return to ekaterineburg. the iron mines now being worked are at the convenient distance of miles from the town, and the cost of transit of the pig-iron is comparatively small. this town is therefore advantageously situated for iron-work, and a large quantity is turned out every year. most of the iron-work for siberia goes from this place. the boilers and engines for the baikal steamers are made in ekaterineburg, and transported nearly miles to their destination. the workmen in the english foundries are chiefly germans and russians, with english foremen. experience has proved the remarkable fact that english workmen deteriorate in siberia. the native russians are excellent workmen under skilful superintendence. some few of them have intellect enough to be trusted with the more responsible departments of their business, but such cases are quite exceptional. they are in general mere imitators, exhibiting no power to think for themselves. a large fish-curing trade is carried on here. the fish is brought from the great rivers, chiefly the ob, near its mouth. about , poods, equal to , , lbs. avoirdupois, are salted annually in this town. recruiting was going on actively here also. having occasion to call on the master of police on a little matter of business, we drove up in a sledge to his office, but found the doorway and the portion of the street immediately adjoining it, so crowded with rough-looking moujiks wildly vociferating, that we could neither get in, nor even make our presence known, for some time. these were recruits who were being registered, passing one by one into the bureau, and coming out again by the same crowded doorway. it seemed to be quite an understood thing that each recruit should drop kopeks into the hands of the _gendarmes_ who acted as door-keepers. by dint of hard pushing we succeeded in insinuating ourselves into the passage, but only to find a yet more impenetrable crowd inside. sickened by the exhalations of so many unclean animals in sheep-skins, half suffocated in the frowsy atmosphere within, and crushed in the living mass till we had to fight for breath like a person in a nightmare, we were glad to escape into the fresh air, and abandon the purpose of our visit. the moujiks were followed to the rendezvous by their wives, who made confusion worse confounded by their frantic yelling and pushing, each one eager to get her own _protégé_ into a good place. there were many hundreds of them, and one day would not suffice to register them all at the rate they were then progressing. the temperature was ominously high on the th of november,--only one degree of frost. some days previously it had been down to - ° réaumur (- ° fahrenheit). we were fairly committed to sledge travelling, and there was so little snow on the ground that a few hours' thaw would have melted away our charming sledge road. the frost set in about the usual time at ekaterineburg, october / , but the snow there as elsewhere was late. the hills and forests in the neighbourhood are well stocked with game. black-cock, white partridges, _ryabchik_, reindeer, elk, and hares, are more or less abundant. wolves are also common, but there are no wild boar. game is plentiful in most parts of siberia, but the russians are no great sportsmen, except those who make a living by hunting. the nomad tribes are, however, expert in the use of the rifle. ekaterineburg is the most westerly town in siberia, lying at the foot of the ural mountains which separate europe from asia. i had formed great conceptions of this mountain chain, but the illusion was dispelled when, on inquiring for the urals, i was pointed to densely wooded undulating hills, in appearance not more imposing than the lammermoor range in scotland. i know not why they are so darkly shaded on most of our maps, and made to look like a formidable barrier between the two continents. they certainly cover a broad expanse of country, but in elevation they are really insignificant, and rendered still more so in appearance by their very gradual rise from the level country. the elevation in the latitude of ekaterineburg is little more than feet above the sea, and the plain on the siberian side being between and feet in elevation, the gentle slope of the mountains makes them look diminutive. while settling about our horses at the post-station of ekaterineburg, we fell in with an elderly german lady, who was going to start the same day for st. petersburg. as she spoke very little russian, it occurred to her friends that it would be a good thing for her to travel with us. there was plenty of room for her in our sledge, and we willingly consented to take her in. this was arranged accordingly. but old ladies (and young ones too) like to have their own way, and she discovered that she had too much luggage to go comfortably with ours in one sledge, besides little baskets of sweet cakes and knick-knacks, of which she had laid in a store for the journey, and which were likely to come to harm lying under our feet. she therefore determined to travel in her own sledge, where she could munch cakes at pleasure, but keeping company with us for the sake of the collateral protection our escort afforded. at six in the evening of the th we left ekaterineburg with our convoy, and about ten at night we reached the highest point of the road on the ridge of the ural. in a heavy fall of snow we turned out to see the obelisk which has been erected there, as the boundary stone between europe and asia. it is a plain stone with no other inscription than the word "europe" on one side and "asia" on the other. it is said to have been erected in honour of yermak, the cossack robber-chief, who atoned for his other offences by discovering, and partly conquering, siberia for the russians in the end of the sixteenth century. it is quite unaccountable that the vast country of siberia should have been left to be discovered by yermak at such a late period. it was well known to the tartars, for the dynasty of genghis had extended their conquests there, and yet the russians, during their communications with the mongols of the golden horde which subsisted for two hundred years, had never learned what was beyond the ural mountains. yermak compelled by some accident to "leave his country," _i.e._, being outlawed, found his way, with some two hundred adventurers, across the ural. after pillaging the tartars for some time, his handful of troops, _i.e._, robbers, became so wasted with constant fighting that he could no longer maintain himself among his numerous enemies. it then occurred to yermak to return to moscow, announce his discovery, and make his peace with the tsar. the robber was promoted to the rank of a hero, and was appointed to command an expedition for the conquest of siberia. yermak first crossed the ural in , and in nearly all the siberian tribes were subjugated by russia. after a night's travelling we were still among the outlying spurs of the ural range, well wooded with pine and birch, the former in greater variety than on the eastern side of the chain. on the road to perm we passed through many cleared spaces, with villages and farms at short intervals. on the st we reached perm, a very flourishing manufacturing and commercial town on the left bank of the river kama. perm is the first (or last) town in europe, and a little earlier in the season it would have been our last stage of road travelling. but we were too late and too early all the way through. the river kama was not frozen, but so much floating ice was coming down, that the steamers which run between perm and nijni-novgorod had been taken off and sent down the volga to astrachan for the winter. only a few small craft were left for repairs to their machinery. we met some more english workers in iron in perm, and they seemed to have a good winter's work before them. a few weeks earlier, we should have embarked on one of the passenger steamers at perm, steamed down the kama as far as kazan, where it joins the volga, then up the latter from kazan to nijni-novgorod. this voyage would have been accomplished in five days, the whole of which time would have been available for sleep, but no luck fell in our way. not only must we continue our journey by land, but it was very doubtful whether we could even cross the kama at all, owing to the velocity of the current and the weight of ice that was borne downwards. the ferry is not at perm, but at a point fifty versts lower down. the navigation of the russian and siberian rivers is making astonishing progress. there are now no less than tugs on the kama and volga, and new steamers are being added every year. one company runs steamers from nijni to perm, and two from nijni down the volga to astrachan. the volga steam navigation company is managed by an englishman at nijni-novgorod, and in his hands has proved a very remunerative undertaking. under russian direction it had been quite the reverse. nearly all the steamers are of foreign construction. many come from the german ports, and many from england. they are usually sent to russia in pieces, but several have steamed across the north sea, and have made their own way into the very heart of the country by means of the canals in communication with the rivers. the facilities enjoyed by russia and siberia for inland navigation are so vast, as to afford almost unlimited scope for capital and enterprise in introducing steam. it is, of course, a serious disadvantage that vessels have to be built in foreign countries, but there is no good reason why this should continue. if the authorities had encouraged the working of their own iron and coal mines with half the zeal they have misapplied to the gold-diggings, the country would have been further advanced in real wealth than it is. the russian statesmen must sooner or later learn that mere gold no more constitutes wealth than tallow or any other article that has a mercantile value. the capital and labour consumed in procuring a given quantity of the precious metals would have probably produced a higher marketable equivalent, if coal and iron had been the object. at any rate, iron would have proved a surer basis for the propagation of wealth than gold. when steamers, for example, are built in siberia, the manufacturing profits will, in the first instance, be disseminated in the country, and the gold that would, as now, be sent abroad for their purchase, may lie in the bowels of the earth, and no one be a loser by it. a good deal has already been done on the siberian rivers, and the heavy traffic between irkutsk and the west is conveyed for the most part in barges, which on the om and irtish are towed by steamers. the mere navigation of rivers in the russian dominions is not new, but in former times the barges were incapable of ascending the rapid streams. they were constructed merely for the one trip down stream, and on reaching their destination and discharging their cargoes, they were broken up for fire-wood. the water communication between eastern siberia and western russia is necessarily very circuitous from the circumstance that the great rivers in siberia run from south to north, and fall into the frozen ocean. for example, the distance by water from omsk to tumen is versts, and by land only . the amoor and its tributaries form an exception, flowing eastward and falling into the sea of ochotsk. to begin at the extreme east; the grand water-route now used for goods is from the pacific up the amoor as far as the shilka. thence to the baikal land carriage is at present used, but the shilka itself is capable of navigation much higher up. the london and china telegraph, august , , reports that a steamer has lately ascended this river and its tributary the ingoda as far as chita, the government town of trans-baikal. from the baikal the communication is by water down the angara to irkutsk, and miles beyond that town, to the junction of the angara with the yenisei, in the north of the province of irkutsk. the water-route on the angara below the town of irkutsk is only used for traffic to the north. goods in transit for europe go by land from irkutsk to tomsk. from the west, the siberian water-route begins at tumen, proceeding down the irtish from tobolsk, then up the ob and the tom as far as tomsk. then, if for the northern part of eastern siberia, land carriage from tomsk to krasnoyarsk; from the latter town down the yenisei to the towns of yeniseisk and turukhansk, beyond which the country is inhabited only by wandering tunguses and ostiaks. there are other important water-routes in siberia, such as that from tumen by the ob and irtish to semipalatinsk on the kirghis steppe; and from irkutsk down the lena to yakutsk, but the lines of greatest traffic are those running east and west. the ice interposes a serious difficulty in the navigation of these rivers, especially in the more northern parts, where the summer is very short, and frost sets in early. goods are frequently caught in the ice, and in some parts of the rivers, they may be frozen up for six, or even eight months together. this risk would, of course, be greatly diminished were steam in more general use. the duration of a voyage could then be calculated with tolerable certainty, and a convenient port reached after the premonitory indications of freezing-up had shown themselves. steam would also afford the means of expediting goods so much quicker, that the heavy part of the year's traffic might be conveyed by the rivers during the open season. a project for improving the water communication in siberia was set on foot by an enterprising russian in . the scheme was revived in , and the projector was supported by a hamburg banker, and assisted by a russian colonel of engineers. their intention was to form a complete water route from tumen to kiachta, first by the rivers ob, tom, tchulim and ket. from the last-named, a canal thirty to thirty-five miles in length would have to be cut into the river yenisei. from the yenisei, the angara would be used to its source in the baikal lake. from the lake the route would be up the selenga to a point about eighteen miles from kiachta. thus, by one cutting, of, at the most, thirty-five miles, clear and uninterrupted water conveyance would be established from near the ural mountains to the frontier of china. but the difficulties in the way of this enterprise are very serious. the river angara is, in its present state, not navigable except down stream. in a distance of miles below irkutsk, there are no less than seventy-eight rapids and dangerous passes, some of which it would be impossible even for a steamer to ascend. native craft shoot the rapids when the water is high, and effect a passage down the river, but of course never return. to render that part of the river fit for navigation, rocks would have to be blasted and cleared away. above irkutsk also, there are one or two places on the angara that would have to be cleared before the steamers could ply with safety on the river. but supposing all that accomplished, to carry out the water communication with efficiency, steamers of various classes suited to the depth of water, and the nature of the different rivers, would be necessary, thereby adding greatly to the expense. on the whole, the cost of clearing out the channel of the angara, and other minor items of expense, would be so enormous that it is highly improbable the scheme will ever be carried out; certainly not for some generations to come. all that can now be done is to improve the water communication at present in use in so far as steam traffic is practicable. before the angara is cleared of rocks, railways will probably traverse siberia. not that i consider the construction of railways in that region nearer than a remote possibility. for, although siberia would be no exception to the general rule that railways make traffic for themselves, yet the cost must bear some proportion to the return. the length of railway necessary to connect the traffic of the various distant parts would be enormous, and as these matters are managed in russia, would probably cost three times the amount that would be required in any other country. there is no capital in russia available for such a purpose, and foreign capital will find many more attractive investments than siberian railways. from perm we were driven by "tatárs," who are capital coachmen. we first met these western tatárs at ekaterineburg, where they live in peace and good will with the russians. they have no apparent affinity with the mongol races, but yet they betray, in their manner of life, their descent from nomad tribes. many of them are engaged in trade, but they prefer hawking to settling in a shop; and even when they have opened shops they like to sally forth with a "pack" on their shoulders and roam about the great towns with their merchandise. the general and sweeping misapplication of the name of tartar, or tatar, to the various wandering tribes of asia, has led some persons to doubt whether there ever was any one tribe properly entitled to the appellation. the name has been too widespread--say from china to russia--not to have had a foundation in fact, and there is not much doubt that an insignificant tribe of the mongol family was known to its neighbours, and called its people by the name of tatars. but the dominant tribes, even of the mongols, have always repudiated the appellative; and although the russian-speaking "tatars" of the west acknowledge the name as applied to them, it is much in the same sense as an english-speaking chinese calls himself a chinaman (_chee_naman) to accommodate himself to western phraseology, although the term has no equivalent in his own language. it is indeed curious to trace old names of countries and races to merely accidental circumstances. the name of china in use among the mongols and russians, is still _kitai_, which is the _kathay_ of marco polo, and the name of the northern part of china during the reign of the mongol dynasty. the name originated with a northern tribe, also called the _liau_, who pushed the frontiers of their empire into north china, and held sway there from the tenth to the thirteenth centuries, and who, defeated by the niu-ché, retired into the desert, and at a later period founded the formidable empire of khara khitan, or the black khitan, near the source of the river obi. but the name of tartar has been liberally bestowed on all those asiatic tribes who led a roving life, and of whose history little or nothing was known. the chinese, for reasons somewhat similar, term all "outer" nations "barbarians," just as the jews grouped all who were beyond their own pale under the comprehensive title of "gentiles;" and the ancients gave the name of scythians to all the barbarians of asia, of whom they could not give any more definite account. arriving at the last station before crossing the kama, late at night, we were compelled to wait till morning, as no inducement would prevail on the men to attempt the ferry at that hour, although there was a bright moon. the truth was the men were all so hard worked during the day as to be unfit for anything at night. in the morning, however, we got across with our sledges, and proceeded to ochansk, a small town three versts from the right bank of the river, where we breakfasted. during the nd the frost disappeared for a few hours, and to our confusion the snow vanished so rapidly during the short time as to leave us in many places bare ground to drive our sledges over. the sight was really appalling, for all our hopes of ease and comfort for the journey rested on the snow. it was absolutely essential to us, seeing we were committed to sledges, and when we saw the black patches appearing here and there, we could sympathise in the despair which a fish must feel when abandoned by its native element and left panting on dry land. a westerly wind got up, and increased to a gale in the afternoon, coming round to north in the evening. this brought cold weather back again, and that night was one of the most severe we encountered in the whole journey. with the extreme cold the wind fell, and a dead calm ensued, which lasted a night and a day. the hard frost converted the soft, melting snow into a magnificent sledge-road, so far as it went; but all the way to kazan we were plagued with bare places where the wind or sun had been most powerful. chapter xx. russian and siberian peasantry. we had not travelled far into russia proper, before the difference in the condition of the peasantry there, and in siberia, forced itself on our attention. the houses in russia are decidedly inferior to those in siberia. they lack the air of rude comfort peculiar to the latter. windows are broken and stuffed with straw, and roofs are out of repair. women and children are ill-clad and squalid. the men are haggard, abject, and degraded. everything is suggestive of poverty, negligence, and misery. in remarkable contrast to these phenomena are the outward circumstances of the peasants in siberia. as i have intimated in the course of this narrative, these latter are well clad, well housed, and at least adequately fed. they have something of independence in their bearing, and the condition of their families, as well as the tasteful decorations often met with in their houses, evince a certain amount of self-respect. the difference is easily accounted for--the explanation lies in the words _serf_ and _no serf_, and it illustrates the inevitable effects of slavery on a people. and if slavery, in its modified form of serfdom, can so deeply mark the character of the subjects of it, what may be expected from the pure, uncompromising "institution?" the siberian free peasant is the descendant of a convict. this applies to almost the whole russian population of eastern siberia, as also to the great proportion of that of western siberia. in the latter region there are still the descendants of many of those cossacks who followed the renowned yermak in his victorious march across the ural, and who continue in the enjoyment of certain privileges granted to them by the empress catharine. but eastern siberia, by far the richest of the two, may be said to be entirely peopled by the descendants of convicts. these belong to two categories--those who are condemned for capital crimes, and those who are expatriated for minor offences. the criminal who belongs to the first category, when he has undergone the corporal punishment allotted to him, and served his term (generally mitigated) of hard labour in the government mines, has a portion of land granted him, on being released from his confinement. he may cultivate as much ground as he chooses to clear, using the timber for building purposes or fuel. he is exempt from the payment of taxes, and from the conscription. the children of these convicts, born in siberia, enjoy the same privileges, but they are still what are called _minors_, and do not possess the rights of a free peasant. for example, they are disqualified from holding any honorary appointment in the village or community where they may reside. such disabilities may be, and frequently are overcome by means of money; for an industrious peasant has an opportunity of saving, and it is not an unusual thing for them to become rich. many of the most wealthy men in siberia at the present moment--large gold-digging proprietors, merchants, &c., are the descendants in the second or third generation of convicts who have undergone the penalty of the law. these men generally manage to "write themselves up," by a judicious application of their money, and then by paying the dues of one of the three guilds of merchants, they obtain a status in society, and enjoy the right of trading; they often make fortunes, either in trade, gold-digging, or other enterprises. the other class of criminals is composed of those who have been exiled for minor offences such as theft; and of serfs, who, before their great emancipation in , were liable to be sent to siberia for any offence against their masters, or even for no offence at all, but from sheer caprice. i met an old woman in tomsk who had been exiled on the latter count. she had inadvertently stuck a needle into the wall, and her mistress, with the nervousness that a bad conscience produces, took it into her head that the serf intended to bewitch her. for this offence the old wretch (though i dare say she was young then) was sent to the police, to be despatched to siberia with the next batch of government exiles, and the official record stated she was so sent "by the will of her master." well, these convicts not possessing the rights of free citizenship, are, on arriving in siberia, appointed to reside in, or registered as belonging to, a certain district of the province where the governor-general may determine to colonise them. after three years' residence, certain advancement is held out to these people, if they can produce a certificate of good behaviour. they are allowed to marry, to become settlers, to clear and cultivate land at pleasure. they are exempt from taxes for the space of twelve years; and after that they only pay a trifle. these convicts are, however, legally dead, can never hold property in their own name, and of course can never return to russia. but so far from this latter restriction being a real hardship, if a return to their native air were permitted them, it is highly improbable that any would avail themselves of the privilege. siberia is really the land of promise to them. the descendants of these convicts become free agriculturists, and live in independence. they pay to government a tax of from three to four pounds, sterling, per head,[ ] per annum, which is very much higher than the tax levied on the peasants of russia proper. but there the peasant had, in addition to the small tax to government, an _obrok_ to pay to his master, amounting on an average to about four pounds sterling a year. the russian peasant, before the emancipation, got nothing in return for this tax, but was bound body and soul to his master, and unable to do anything to better his condition that was not entirely agreeable to the arbitrary will of his owner. the peasant in siberia, on the other hand, is absolutely free in all things to follow the bent of his own will. he has no master to dread and serve, and owes obedience to nothing but the law of the land. the siberian peasantry are treated with every liberality by the government, whose ruling purpose with respect to that country is to colonise it with industrious communities, who will turn its natural wealth to account, and become an arm of support to the state. for the single tax above-mentioned, the peasant receives as much land as he can clear, as much timber as he chooses to fell, and no rent is required from him. the land he has worked is his own. no other person can disturb his possession, and the government even cannot claim from him any portion of the land so acquired without his formal renunciation. the primeval forest may be said to cover the whole of siberia--the cleared spaces are as drops in the bucket, and the bare steppes, where timber is scant, bear but an insignificant proportion to the whole. in the immediate vicinity of some of the large towns, where the people have been burning wood for two hundred years, a palpable impression has been made on the forest, and there it has been found necessary to restrict the cutting of wood to certain limits, both as to the quantity consumed, and the boundaries within which trees may be felled. these restrictions are enforced with a view to securing the growth of young wood within a convenient distance of the towns. [ ] this tax is levied on every male above years of age. there is but one siberian nobleman and proprietor of serfs in existence,--mr. rodinkoff, counsellor of state and vice-governor of the province of yeniseisk, a kind-hearted, good old man. his grandfather received from the empress catharine a grant of lands and peasants in siberia on the terms of russian serfdom. but neither he nor his successors ever attempted to exercise proprietary rights over their peasants, who lived very much as the free peasants do. one of the family, the brother of the present proprietor, broke through the custom of his fathers, and paid the penalty of his life for his imprudence. he attempted to put in force his full signorial rights, and to levy contributions on his peasants, as in russia proper. the consequence was that he was murdered in one of his excursions to visit his estate, within thirty miles of the town of krasnoyarsk. the present proprietor seldom interferes with, or visits his peasants, but contents himself with the modest imposts of wood for winter fuel for his town residence, and hay for his horses, with which they cheerfully supply him. in the matter of recruiting, the siberian peasants have always been leniently dealt with. in many parts of the country they are exempted altogether for certain considerations. those who settle on the rivers lena and yenisei, are exempt from all taxes and recruiting, on condition that they supply travellers with post-horses, and convey the government post, for both which services they are, moreover, paid at a higher rate even than in other parts of the country. this privilege extends from near irkutsk to the frozen ocean on the lena, and from the town of yeniseisk to the frozen ocean on the yenisei. the extreme severity of the climate, and the inhospitable nature of the soil in these regions render it necessary to encourage settlers, and so to secure uninterrupted communication through the country. there is no spring, and no autumn in these parts. three months, and in some districts less, of summer, is all the time allowed them for cultivation of the soil. the rest of the year is winter, during which snow lies to the depth of from seven to upwards of twenty feet. the temperature then falls to °, °, and in some parts ° reaumur of frost (equal to - °, - °, and - °, fahrenheit). no corn grows, and but few vegetables, but the country abounds with wild animals such as bear, elk, deer, sables, foxes, squirrels. the inhabitants become expert hunters, and make a good living out of the furs they obtain. the settlers in the river angara are also exempted from taxes of all kinds, and from recruiting, on condition of their supplying government and private travellers with skilful pilots and guides, for which they are of course likewise well requited by those who employ them. this is necessary on the angara, that river being one of the most dangerous in the world. being the only river that runs out of the baikal lake, a heavy volume of water is forced down into it, and during its course from the lake to its confluence with the yenisei, it is full of falls and rapids, which can only be passed with safety under the guidance of pilots of local skill and knowledge. the amenities of free life enjoyed by the peasants of siberia have produced the unmistakeable effect of, in some measure, eradicating the impress of slavish degradation which centuries of servility had stamped on the whole race of moujiks. the hereditary marks of the yoke are still too plainly to be seen, and many generations will probably pass from the scene before even the siberian russians can claim to be really civilised. but it is a great thing to have made such a good start on the road to improvement. the progress made is not likely to be lost; each stage of advancement rather becomes a guarantee for still greater, and more rapid progress in the future. the feeling of independence has taken deep root in the minds of these freemen, and it would be no longer possible to enslave them, without causing a revolution. their ideas have been enlarged. industry and economy are seen to have their full reward. the security of life and property, and the liberation from the arbitrary dictates of a superior will, give the people encouragement to cultivate their talents in the full faith that their labours shall not be in vain. unlimited wealth is open to all who have the energy to seek it. great numbers of the siberian peasants have amassed fortunes already. other tastes naturally flow from worldly prosperity, and already among the merchants who have enriched themselves from the ranks of the peasants, education is beginning to attract attention. in due time mental culture will, no doubt, spread downwards, and the distinction of classes, which has so greatly retarded the progress of civilisation in russia, may gradually be smoothed away. the amalgamation of classes will consolidate and strengthen the whole body politic, and should that happy consummation ever be realised in russia, siberia will have the honour of leading the way. the barriers that obstruct free intercourse between the different strata of society are already partially broken down, greatly to the advantage of all. for slavery or serfdom exercises a demoralising influence on masters and slaves alike. the institution in russia crushed the energy of life out of the serfs, and almost destroyed their thinking faculties--so much so that centuries of freedom may be inadequate to enable the emancipated to rise to their proper level of intelligence. while the serfs were thus degraded and kept down to a position but little superior to that of domestic animals, their masters, having no community of feeling with them, were actuated by the single motive of extorting the maximum revenues out of their human property. the cares of management devolved on the serfs, and the masters, being for the most part almost as much as the serfs shut out from their legitimate share in public affairs, abandoned themselves to extravagant pleasures and dissipation, or to mischievous intrigues. without any healthy occupation for body or mind, a highly artificial mode of life developed itself in the ranks of the wealthy serf-proprietors, the sole refuge from which was in the military or civil appointments of the government. practical education was wanting in the great body of them, so that when their source of revenue was taken away by the liberation of their serfs, they broke down from the want of any resources within themselves by which they might have maintained their standing in society, and even have improved their pecuniary condition in other careers. there were very many exceptions to this, but such was the necessary tendency of the institution of serfdom, and such was the actual fate of those proprietors who allowed their energy to be sapped by the unnatural life to which they were born. it was probably the growing prosperity of siberia, and the marked superiority of the condition of the population there, that induced the government to emancipate the serfs of russia proper. the importance of this great measure can hardly be over-estimated, and i doubt whether the emperor alexander ii. has received the full credit due to him for the enlightened liberality which dictated, and the noble courage which carried into execution, this truly magnificent conception. it is well known that the most determined hostility of the great majority of the nobles was arrayed against the measure, which, from their point of view, threatened to sweep away at one blow their whole worldly wealth. the emperor stood almost alone, being supported by a small, and not overwise minority. his life was several times in jeopardy. but he maintained his purpose with singular pertinacity through three years of discussion and deliberation, during which the ill-timed zeal of his supporters raised serious difficulties in his way by trying to drive matters too fast. at the end of three years the ukase was signed, and in two years more twenty-three millions of male serfs, with the corresponding number of females, were set free. whether we consider the vast numbers of men and women whose destiny was involved, the radical character of the change effected, the formidable opposition which had to be borne down, or the germs of expansion which it implanted into the russian people, moulding the whole future history of the nation, this act of the emperor of russia stands unrivalled as a measure of reform in the history of the world. many other reforms have been introduced during the present reign, but the emancipation of the serfs is an achievement in itself worthy of a lifetime. peter the great did much to promote the progress of the material prosperity of his country, and considering the barbarous character of his education, and of the age in which he lived, more than established his claim to the title of _great_. catharine made her reign "glorious;" nicholas made his name terrible; but to alexander ii. belongs the immortal honour of liberating his people from slavery. the full results of this great work will only be manifested in future ages. the serfs have now, as it were, been born to political life--their education is but beginning. with freedom, industry will grow; the comforts of life will be enjoyed; intelligence will spread, and higher aspirations will be infused into the servile millions. in course of time the russian population will be capable of exercising the rights of freemen, and the day may come when even the despotism of the government may yield something to the claims of the people for representation. already a change for the better is observable among the liberated serfs. each had a piece of land allotted to him, varying from eight to twenty acres, with the right to farm or purchase more. residents in russia have noted an increase in the productiveness of many parts of the country, in consequence of the improved system of agriculture that has been initiated since every man began to grow his own crops, instead of slaving his life away for behoof of a master whom he seldom saw, and who took little interest in the management of his property. even the character of the people is already sensibly ameliorated. they show more self-reliance and self-respect than formerly, and their increased industry is implied in the greater production of the country. the effect of the emancipation on the nobles has been various. the spendthrift portion of them have been ruined by it, as also those who had not the ability, foresight, or resolution to take timely measures to meet the consequences of the social revolution. others lost heavily, to the extent of half or two-thirds of their incomes; but, facing the emergency in a practical spirit, they betook themselves to useful employments, with a view to improving their circumstances; and many of these have regained by such means all that they had lost. the more prudent and economical proprietors, who devoted themselves to the improvement of their estates, and were fully prepared for the change, have been positively gainers by the movement; for, besides making more out of their property by efficient management and free labour than they could extort from their serfs, they have the indemnity paid by government to the credit side of their accounts. the highly exasperated feelings displayed by the majority in the first instance cooled down considerably during the five years which elapsed between the first notice of the intended reform and the actual consummation of it. the russians are tolerably well accustomed to arbitrary measures, and their feelings are not naturally very deep. but the nobles were still far from being satisfied, and the mutterings of general discontent that were heard long after the inauguration of the new regime, continued to be a cause of anxiety to the emperor. the dissatisfaction of the nobles was fed from various causes apart from the serf question. a pretty general reform of abuses was instituted about the same period. many time-honoured privileges and monopolies were invaded, to the prejudice of those who were battening on the spoils of office. matters continued in a critical state until the perpetration of the infamous deeds of incendiarism which preceded the polish insurrection. these occurrences brought all the best part of the population to the side of the government, and restored the wavering loyalty of the nobles and military officers; and the malcontents, whose nefarious gains in public offices of trust and otherwise were put an end to, were fain to sink their grievances in oblivion. chapter xxi. kazan--polish exiles. we passed through a great deal of bare, flat and uninteresting country on the road to kazan. the ground being covered with snow, we could not judge of the soil, but farming villages were tolerably numerous, and a fair amount of population seemed to find a subsistence there. oaks, of which we saw none on the siberian side of the ural range, now began to appear. the birch trees grow straight and tall, and pines were less conspicuous in the woods. the number of polish prisoners we found on the road threatened seriously to impede our march. we had met them occasionally in siberia, but between perm and kazan we encountered companies of them on the way, and at almost every station. the resources of the posting establishment were severely taxed to provide horses for so many travellers at once, and we had frequently to wait till the poles were gone, and then take the tired horses they had brought from the last station. the poles travelled in the same manner as we did, in large sledges containing three or four people, sometimes more. those who could not be accommodated with sledges had carts, or _telégas_, which were more or less crowded. none of them travelled a-foot. all were well clothed in furs. on the whole i was surprised to find such a number of people travelling with so much comfort. when we met a party of them in a post-station we were very short of room, unless when we happened to be there first. then the cooking establishment was entirely monopolised by the exiles when it pleased the officer in charge to dine them. on such occasions we postponed our repast to the next station. the prisoners are invariably treated with kindness and consideration by the officer in charge and by the _gensdarmes_. they are under close surveillance, but i did not see any of the prisoners in irons, though i was informed that some of them were so. i remember one fat, jolly fellow in charge of one of the detachments of prisoners. he was a captain in the army, and had hard work to console himself in his forlorn situation. he did not at all like the service he was engaged in; indeed he seemed to feel his banishment to siberia more than the exiles themselves. he envied our destination homewards, and took occasion to bemoan himself a little. "ah! you are happy," said he; "in a few days you will be in moscow, but i, poor devil, must go to tobolsk with _gensdarmes_"--accompanied by an expressive shrug of the shoulders, and downcasting of the eyes. he made companions of some of the prisoners; one in particular he seemed to be on cordial terms with. the officer told us this prisoner had held a commission under garibaldi, and had been lately captured leading a band in poland. he was a handsome young fellow, with a wild look in his eye. as for the rest of the prisoners, there was nothing remarkable about them. they ate well and talked loudly; the din of their voices at a post-station was intolerable. they joked and laughed a great deal, by way of keeping their spirits up i suppose; but no indication whatever was given that they were exiles undergoing the process of banishment. if one might judge from appearances, i should say they rather liked it. on the th of november, late at night, we reached kazan, a fine old town, the name of which is closely bound up with the ancient history of russia. i found a letter waiting me at the post-office there, in answer to my telegram from kolyvan, which was a comfort. how i got into the post-office at eleven o'clock at night, and how the men happened to be there in their places at that hour, i was not very clear about. but it was explained that two posts were then expected, one from the east and one from the west, and that when i hammered at the door they thought it was at least one of them. arriving in kazan very late, we took up our quarters for the night at the station hotel, where we were half suffocated as usual by the close fusty atmosphere of a room kept up to + ° reaumur ( ° fahrenheit), no air being ever allowed to enter. in the morning we began to hear ominous warnings about the volga. the ice was coming down in big lumps, and our sledge could not be got across--so we were informed. it was seven versts from the station to the ferry. we might drive there and see for ourselves, but then it would have been excessively disagreeable to have to return defeated. we consulted a russian gentleman to whom we had a letter of introduction, but no comfort was to be got from him. the state of the river was as bad as it could be, and he strongly advised us not to leave kazan until the volga was hard frozen. the voice of the tempter had been saying "wait, wait," at every point of our journey from kiachta to kazan, but as we had not listened before, we were not likely to do it now, when so near the end of our journey. i could not help remarking how singularly we had been baulked by contumacious rivers during the two months that had passed since we encountered the tolla in mongolia. they were always just in the impassable crisis when we happened to reach them, and last of all the volga gave us trouble, a river that we never reckoned on crossing at all. a little earlier we should have passed up the river in a steamboat. a little later we should have driven up the volga on the ice, for that is an almost direct road to nijni-novgorod. but of course we hit the wrong time, just betwixt and between. the river must however be crossed if we would proceed. an offer of twenty roubles being made for the sledge, we sold it to the post-master. it was he who persuaded us that we could not take it further, and of course we thought ourselves "done" in consequence. we got our traps stowed in two post-chaises and drove towards the ferry on the volga. in leaving the main town of kazan we crossed over a causeway, or embanked road, through a marsh which connects the town with a kind of suburb. the view of kazan from the other side of the swamp is very fine. it is built on high ground, and its spires and domes show to great advantage from a distance. in the summer season, when tree leaves and green grass are out, the environs of kazan must be very pleasing to the eye; for even in november, when the country was one great snowy waste, bleak and cheerless, the town looked really handsome. the best houses, as well as public buildings, are built of brick, indeed a wooden house is rather the exception there. having crossed a flat tract of country, we reached the volga at a point about five miles from kazan, and as many above its confluence with the kama. it is truly a noble river, and the high banks enable one to get a sort of bird's-eye view of the broad sheet of water. i should rather say a compound of water, ice, and snow, for the surface of the river was covered with large blocks of ice, loaded with snow, moving rapidly down the stream, with a few open spots of clear water here and there. there was great commotion at the ferry among moujiks, cossacks, and tartars. several boats were busy conveying passengers across, but they made slow work of it. the men refused to start from either side until they saw, or thought they saw, sufficient space clear to hold out some hope of their being able to effect the passage. they would wait an hour or more for a favourable opportunity to start, and even then they were just as likely to be carried down by the driving ice as to fetch the opposite landing. one boat was jammed in mid-channel and borne down in a perfectly unmanageable condition for two or three miles, until the moving icebergs voluntarily released her, when she was got to land at a place where it was impossible to get horses or sledges near, owing to the precipitous nature of the bank. the model of these boats is beautifully adapted to this kind of iceberg navigation. their sides are cut away, so that a straight line is drawn from the gunwale to the keel. a section of the boat is represented by the letter v, but the angle formed by the two sides is much greater than that in the usual form of that letter, so that the boats are very flat. they may be nipped between two fields and no damage be done, as there is nothing for the ice to get hold of. did the boats present a perpendicular side to the edge of it, they could not escape destruction. we unfortunately had ample time to make observations on the navigation of the volga and other matters that came under our notice, for we were compelled to kick our heels about the whole day, without finding a boat disengaged. long before dark the men stopped work for the day, to make sure they would not be caught in the dusk of the evening essaying a passage which demanded all their wits in broad daylight. the first hour or two passed pleasantly enough while we entertained ourselves watching the process of a river freezing. a margin of thick ice had already formed along the bank, strong enough to arrest the progress of the "pack" in its downward course, when borne against the projecting points. the floating ice-fields crashed with great impetuosity on the fixed ice, were shattered by the shock, and, urged by the force of the current, the fragments were piled up one above another in huge chaotic masses. when left still for a short time the pile congealed, and in a few hours was ready to serve as a barrier to stop more of the pack and annex it to the mass. during that one day the solid ice was extended six or eight feet, and with continued frost a very few days would suffice to freeze over the whole river. the military were in great force on the banks of the volga, and carried everything their own way, regardless of the interests of the general public, as represented by the few civilians who presented themselves as candidates for the middle passage. we had seen some of the soldiery before this time, but they were so-called "cossacks" of the old type. those we encountered at kazan, and on the volga, were smartly set off with french military caps, and had really a soldier-like bearing. the traditional grey over-coat was universal, but there was enough of innovation in their get-up to mark the recent improvement that has taken place in the russian soldier. i shall probably allude in the sequel to the army reforms introduced into russia during the present reign. a good many tartars were sprinkled among the crowd that infested the landing-place at the volga ferry. they usually wear a round fur cap, somewhat different from that worn by the russian moujik. their physiognomy is widely removed from the sclavonic type. they have the flat features of the mongol races, but are not to be confounded with any of them. the ferry-boats were engaged the whole day in conveying polish exiles across the river, bound for siberia. it is a sad sight to see so many people in captivity, and still more so to see a number of women accompanying the exiles. it is quite common for the wives, daughters, and mothers of the political convicts to follow their relatives into siberia. this is not discouraged by the russian government; on the contrary, every facility is granted to enable the families to emigrate, and they have always the means of travelling in company. the object of the government is to colonise siberia, so that the more people go there the better. besides, the residence of families in exile offers some guarantee against any attempt at a return to their native country. two old ladies i particularly noticed coming out of a boat, accompanied by two soldiers. they were both well dressed in black silk and warm fur cloaks. one of them was extremely old, and unable to walk. she stooped a great deal, and leaned on a crutch while standing on the ice. the other was also very frail. we pitied these old creatures, exposed as they were day after day in such inclement weather, compelled to undergo the hardships and privations inseparable from all russian and siberian travelling. they were treated with great kindness by the soldiers, who lifted them carefully out of the boat, carried them to their sledges, which were in waiting, and put them in as tenderly as if they had been their own mothers. after carefully wrapping them up with their furs, a cossack got in beside each of the ladies, and they drove off to kazan. a girl who was with them was equally well attended to by the officer in command of the party, who seemed to consider the polish maiden to be his especial charge. much has been said and written on this polish question, and an unusual number of distorted and exaggerated statements have gained currency in europe on the subject. it is certain that neither the oppressors nor the oppressed are to be implicitly trusted as regards their veracity, and it is not easy, in consequence, to sift out the bare unvarnished truth. but, leaving out of sight for a moment the actual merits of the question, as between the russian government and the rebellious poles, the fate of the exiles is by no means such a hard one as is too commonly supposed. i have taken pains to inquire into this, and the more i have heard about it from persons well able to judge, the more have i been convinced that the poles in siberia are very much better off than the average of those in poland. the russians to a man condemn them, and justify their government in the measures that have been adopted to put down the insurrection. but their feelings of loyalty to the emperor may possibly warp their judgment. the foreign residents who have no such influence to sway their opinions, may be considered impartial in the matter; and they, on the whole, indorse the russian views as regards the poles. those english residents in siberia with whom i have conversed, assert that the polish exiles enjoy a degree of peace, comfort, and prosperity, that they were altogether strangers to in their own country. wealth, talent, industry, and education have the most ample scope in siberia, and are set free from those distractions which sap healthy enterprise in a country torn with civil wars. i have already given some hints of the position occupied by russian political exiles in siberia, and i need not dwell on the subject now, further than to say that the poles are treated with still greater leniency and consideration. that the exiles are, on the whole, dissatisfied, there can be no doubt. but the more sensible of them admit that their worldly circumstances are improved by going to siberia. many of them are pleased at the change, and would not willingly return home if it were open to them to do so. so long as they remain in poland, they say, they are at the mercy of every band of malcontents, who have nothing of their own to lose. in revolutionary times they are constrained, in spite of themselves, to take part in the proceedings, and to sacrifice their time, property, and everything else to schemes of which they may strongly disapprove. they never feel secure from the consequences of the folly of their hot-headed countrymen. they have no heart to work, when they are liable, at any moment, to be involved in ruin by the rashness of some insurrectionary party. but siberia offers an escape from all this strife and endless conspiracy, and some of them hail with delight the sentence that exiles them to a more congenial soil. no one, indeed, who has observed, in an impartial manner, the conditions of life in siberia and russia respectively, will be disposed to doubt that the former is really the more attractive residence, and although it is remarkable, it is not incredible, that many poles should deliberately prefer it to their own country. as a precautionary measure, the russian government has always studied to scatter the exiles over siberia, to prevent any large communities of them from congregating in one place. the governor-general of western siberia has the power of distributing them as he may see fit. all the exiles are taken to tobolsk as a rendezvous, and are there told off to the various districts they are destined to reside in. in their final distribution there is great room for favouritism, as well as for the gratification of malevolence on the part of the governor; some of the exiles may be sent to the large towns, and others to wild, uninhabited regions, and inhospitable climates. oppression and cruelty have doubtless been in former days practised on them, and may possibly still, to some extent, exist. but, in the main, they are treated kindly, both while travelling, and in their appointed residences. whatever sentence may have been awarded (speaking of criminals), it is invariably mitigated in practice. the stigma of exile is no bar to their well-doing in siberia. everything combines to make their lives pleasant, except that one element of bitterness, the ever-present consciousness that they are under the ban of the law, and doomed never to return to their own unhappy country. that one consideration is, no doubt, powerful enough, in ardent and sensitive minds, to neutralise all the elements of happiness that their banishment affords; but time mellows it down to a vague, latent feeling of oppression, and sympathy with those of their countrymen who may still be engaged in the hopeless struggle for independence. those of the exiles who have sense enough to accept their lot in a philosophical spirit, and do not weary their lives out in chafing under their fate, have comparatively little cause for dissatisfaction. the object of the russian government is not so much to punish the insurgents, as to colonise siberia with people of education and intelligence. attempts to escape are punished with the utmost severity; but these attempts are rare. mrs. atkinson relates a story of a pole who was caught in a desperate effort to return to europe, and sent to the mines. the same is still the stock-story served up for the entertainment of travellers, the ten years or more that have elapsed not having apparently supplied another instance. there cannot be much difference of opinion on the question of the spoliation of poland by the three great powers. although the vices inherent in the polish constitution rendered the subjugation of the country by its powerful neighbours almost inevitable, nothing can justify the unscrupulous proceedings of russia and her two satellites in seizing it. but in the immediate causes that prompted the recent insurrection, and the measures adopted by the russian government to quell it, the poles have perhaps received more sympathy, and the russians more odium, than they deserved. it is certain that the emperor was liberally disposed towards the poles; but they aspired, not to greater liberty, but to absolute independence of russia. as was well shown by the correspondent of the "times," no reform, however radical, would conciliate them while they were connected with russia, and the easy rule of alexander ii. was the very thing that enabled the poles to rebel, which, under the iron hand of nicholas, was impossible. it is, doubtless, a legitimate grievance that a highly cultured people, as the poles are, should be governed by semi-barbarous russians; but, on the other hand, the superior intelligence of the poles found its full value in russia. they were rapidly gaining posts of trust and emolument in the imperial service, and i have heard it said, by a person eminently qualified to judge, that if they had but postponed their insurrection for ten years, they would then have had no cause to rebel, because by that time they would have virtually governed russia as much as russia governs poland. if the poles had possessed the practical philosophy of the chinese, they might have overcome their conquerors by a process somewhat analogous to that by which the latter people have successively out-civilised the various tartar powers, and overrun their territories. but they cast to the winds their opportunities, and committed their destiny to the hazard of a desperate venture, in which success was, humanly speaking, impossible. the only result, indeed, that could reasonably have been expected from this fatal enterprise was that the old relations between the two countries should be replaced on the footing of a rigorous despotism on the one hand, and absolute subjection on the other. without attempting to extenuate the severities, often arbitrary, and cruelly unjust, that have been practised on the poles by the russian officials in the later stages of the insurrection, due allowance should be made for the exaggerations inseparable from one-sided accounts, especially in times of great excitement. and it is reasonable that their fair share of responsibility for the blood that has been needlessly shed, should be borne by the leaders of the movement, who with suicidal rashness plunged their country into a war, which a little calm reflection might have shown them was hopeless from the beginning. it is well also to note that, since the rebellion has been finally put down, the russian government has evinced no vindictive feeling towards the subjugated poles; but, on the contrary, has set itself to improve their condition by the establishment of many liberal measures, social and educational, the progress of which was interrupted by the outbreak of the insurrection. but supposing even that the insurrection had been successful, what substantial advantage would have accrued to poland? a return to the conditions existing before the partition, the hostile factions and the confederations more tyrannical even than russia, would not have been a great improvement. and poland would then have been a small, weak, and poor kingdom, surrounded by three powerful enemies, who would never want a _casus belli_. how long would the kingdom have been likely to maintain its existence under such conditions? chapter xxii. kazan to petersburg. when, far on in the afternoon, we saw no prospect of effecting a crossing of the volga that day, we were glad to pack our traps into the first sledge that offered, and make our way back to kazan. we were not the only disappointed ones, but the other westward-bound travellers, having more practical knowledge than ourselves, took the precaution to drive down in a town sledge, without their baggage, to reconnoitre the ferry. with our bulky _impedimenta_, we were in a condition eminently favourable for being victimised by the rapacious rascals who repaired to the spot with horses and sledges, attracted thither by the same instinct that brings the eagles to the carcase. in the first instance, we had been charged the fare for fourteen versts, for a stage that was acknowledged to be only seven--no better reason being alleged for the charge than that it was "necessary." the sledge had been sent back to the post-station, after being discharged of our persons and appurtenances, and at the end of the day we found ourselves at the mercy of a set of wide-mouthed moujiks, with the most exalted ideas of the value of their services. the hotel "ryazin," where we took up our quarters, had the reputation of being one of the most fashionable in kazan, as was made apparent to us by the thick atmosphere of stale tobacco-smoke that pervaded the long narrow corridors, and close pent-up rooms. deeming ourselves to have entered a country so far civilised that we could get anything for money, and feeling greatly in need of consolation under the defeat we had sustained, we mustered courage to order a bottle of wine with our dinner. we had carefully eschewed liquor at the hotels in siberia, not expecting great things there, and from a desire to discourage a taste which we should rarely have the means of gratifying. in old kazan we had more confidence, and the classical names and aristocratic prices on the "wine card" of the ryazin gave promise of something good. but we were only tantalised--the wine was not only of no recognisable species, but positively nauseous. we did get good fresh butter, however, an article, strange to say, scarce in siberia, notwithstanding the abundance of milk. it is worth notice that the russians have but one word, _maslo_, to signify butter, cart-grease, and oil in general. can it be possible that the confusion of ideas frequently caused by this circumstance has given rise to the exaggerated, but generally believed, reports of the foul feeding of the russians? a diorama was being exhibited in a distant part of the huge building of the hotel. the pictures were mostly copies of originals in the hermitage at st. petersburg, and their merits were extolled after the usual fashion by the exhibitor in french and russian. the attendance was fair, but the entertainment very so-so. the only impression i carried away was that the russians of kazan were easily amused. on the following morning we again proceeded to the volga to try our luck. the river had totally changed its appearance during the night. the thick masses of conglomerated ice and snow had disappeared. the open water had shifted from the right to the left bank, and the middle of the river was covered with a thin sheet of new ice, floating downwards. a boat was soon loaded by ourselves and a few other passengers, and half-a-dozen lusty moujiks tracked us slowly up the stream by means of a rope. sometimes a towing path on the high bank was used, and sometimes a path was extemporised on the margin of solid ice, which in places was piled up in high sharp peaks that entangled the towing-rope. the master of the boat urged on his team, familiarly addressing them as "dogs," which i am bound in charity to consider as a term of endearment, when applied to russian moujiks. when we had gained a position whence we could cross the river easily, the crew was brought on board, and the boat launched into mid-stream. the thin ice was easily broken up by poles and boat-hooks, and no great difficulty was experienced in effecting this passage. the russian ferrymen have a very inconvenient habit of stopping to cross themselves, and mutter invocations to the saints while in the most critical situation. they do this sometimes at starting, but invariably when in the middle of the river. i frequently felt that we were put in peril by this ultra-superstitious practice, for often at the moment when the greatest care is needed to pilot the boat through treacherous ice-fields, the whole crew lay down their oars, take off their hats, and perform the ceremony. the chinese sailors beat gongs and burn joss paper to ensure good luck on their voyage, but they are too sensible to endanger themselves by such superstitious observances, and on the whole, show less confidence in supernatural aid than in the appliances within their own control. "prayer and provender never hinder a journey," is an excellent maxim within reasonable limits, but the practice of russian ferrymen shows how the best of rules may be abused. a number of small steamers were frozen in on the right bank of the volga, as also a fleet of hulks elegantly fitted up with rooms on deck. these were the floating steam-boat and other offices, government offices, &c. in the season, when the navigation is open, and passenger steamers, tugs, and barges are plying to and fro, this part of the volga must be a busy scene. a sledge was sent for us at the farther side, and we were once more _en route_. a tap-room, kept by a very low kind of jew, is conveniently situated near the ferry on the right bank. here the boatmen indulge themselves freely in liquor out of the proceeds of the harvest they make while the ice is forming. we got slightly warmed with tea in this house, but the publican objected to our drinking our own brandy "on the premises." the law was on his side, and we could say nothing, but the alternative of drinking the poison which he was licensed to sell was too repulsive, even had our need been greater than it was. at kazan and the volga we observed that the russian _pourboire_ changed from _na vodku_ ("for brandy") to _na tsai_ ("for tea"), the latter being the common expression in russia proper, and the former the current phrase in siberia. tea drinking is considered a matter of superlative importance in russia. when a cab is hired for the day, the driver will ask for a quarter of an hour "to drink tea," and a little money on account to provide the means of doing so. people repair at stated times to a _trakteer_, or tavern, in moscow and petersburg to drink tea. after the opera, parties retire for the same purpose. it does not follow that tea is always the beverage patronised on these occasions. the tea drinking at midnight is more likely to consist of caviar, ryabchick, and champagne. our road lay parallel with the general line of the volga, occasionally approaching near to some of the elbows of the river. the country is flat and marshy, but well cultivated, and farming villages are numerous. the villages and small towns are built on raised ground, whether naturally or artificially raised, i am uncertain. the most remarkable feature in the towns is the extraordinary number of churches. in one very small place i counted eight. oaks are abundant in the country between kazan and nijni-novgorod, and the beech trees grow to a good size, and in beautiful form. the forest has been cleared away to make room for agriculture, and the bare flat is only relieved by the clumps of gnarled oak and the fine avenues of birch, which are planted in double rows on each side of the post-road. in winter, they looked handsome in their nakedness, and in the summer heats they will afford a grateful shade to travellers on the road for some hundreds of miles. the roads were bad; but habit had inured us to that. the postal arrangements were, however, worse than anything we had experienced. the reason was obvious. this part of the road being only used for a few weeks, between the closing of the volga navigation and the complete freezing of the river, no provision is made for the comfort of travellers in the way of covered conveyances. having parted with our own sledge, we travelled _peracladnoi_, that is, changing at every station. no covered sledges could be procured for love or money, but so long as we could use sledges, the discomfort was not intolerable, although the snow became gradually scantier as we advanced westward. on the th, however, the little snow that remained melted, and some rain and sleet fell. sledge-travelling was discontinued, and we had to resort to the _telega_, simply an open cart without any springs. for the whole day we did dreadful penance in these lumbering vehicles, over the most atrocious roads that can be imagined. our progress was, of course, slow in the extreme, and to complete the catalogue of our miseries, a heavy shower of sleet fell, which soaked our furs and wraps to such an extent that we could hardly bear their weight. in this pitiable condition we reached the last station before nijni at o'clock at night. we had resolved to pass the night there, and get our clothes dried before morning, deeming further exposure to the cold dangerous to our health. the surly brute of a postmaster, whom it was our misfortune to meet, put his veto on our intentions. i shall never forget his face, nor his blue coat and brass buttons. he was one of those slaves, dressed in a little brief authority, whose sole experience had been the iron heel of tyranny planted on his neck, and whose one idea, when not licking the dust himself, was to make others do so if possible. it is a necessary result of a slavish education in some minds, that they cannot conceive of any other relation in life, than that of oppressor and oppressed. for the honour of russian postmasters in general, i am glad to say that such specimens as the jack-in-office at kstavo are rare. he refused us a fire, or a room, or any means of making ourselves decently comfortable, so after shivering for an hour we determined to resume our journey to nijni. a hard frost had set in, accompanied by a keen wind that cut us to the bone. the misery we suffered during the last stage of our journey, was beyond all description. never was i more grateful than when we gained admission to the hotel "russia" at nijni-novgorod, at four o'clock next morning. under the genial influence of a warm room and a dry bed, our miseries were soon forgotten, and the horrible experiences of the night dissolved into a dream that helped to intensify present enjoyment. "sweet is pleasure after pain." there is no rest without labour, and happiness itself would be insipid without a seasoning of misery. life, to be really enjoyed, must be chequered with light and shadow. the bright passages remain vivid in the memory, while the darker shades fade into forgetfulness. the time to see nijni-novgorod is during the great fair which is held in july, and which attracts to the spot people of every race and language. the nijni fair is one of the great commercial events in russia. goods are brought to it from vast distances, and as much business is done there in a few days as in many months in the larger cities. there are several other great fairs still held in russia, such as the one at irbit, in the west of siberia. they are relics of an unsettled state of society, and will no doubt gradually give way before modern civilisation. the enormous cost of transport necessarily incurred in bringing merchandise to the fair, and in carrying it away again to its destination, does not equal the guild dues, and other charges, which the traders would have to bear, in order to do the same business in moscow or petersburg. the consuming population are, therefore, taxed out of all reason, with no advantage to the merchants, or to the government revenue. one merchant may, for example, take his wares from moscow or kiev to the fair at nijni, and sell them to another, who carries them back to the point whence they were originally despatched, and the double expense of carriage may still be less than the cost of transacting the same business in the towns.[ ] it cannot be that such a state of affairs can long withstand the inevitable march of enlightenment. [ ] "russ. shores of the black sea."--l. oliphant. we of course saw nijni-novgorod at a disadvantage. the town was comparatively empty; the steam traffic which keeps the neighbourhood alive during the summer was all over for the season, and the rivers volga and oka looked deserted. the snow was melting fast, and the streets were a mass of slush. this, with a leaden sky and drizzling rain, rendered the town as miserable as can be imagined. the oka joins the volga at nijni, and the town is situated on a high peninsula between the two rivers. the suburb in which the great fair is held is opposite the town, on the other side of the oka, and there also is the terminus of the railway. at the time we passed, there was but one train a day to moscow. it started at about four o'clock in the afternoon, and was calculated to arrive at moscow--three hundred miles--about six or seven next morning. our journey virtually terminated with our joining the railway, for though still some miles from london, we had no more hardships to look forward to, no toilsome days, or sleepless nights, no hard fare, and no struggles with the elements. it was hard to realise the superlative comfort of a railway carriage in our shaken and shattered condition. it seemed too good to be true. the varied incidents of our four months of travel crowded on the memory, and we soon dropped into a delicious sleep amid confused visions of drunken yemschiks, broken wheels, diabolical roads, icebergs, and ferry-boats, with deserts and strings of camels dimly shadowed in the back ground. in the grey of the morning, we found ourselves in moscow the holy, and were soon comfortably settled in m. billet's hotel. our progress towards civilised comfort culminated here, and the luxury of bed and board at m. billet's seemed a full compensation for the miseries of the road. to do justice to the delights of moscow would require a higher inspiration than i am blessed with, and all i could say about the kremlin, its palaces and churches, the theatres, operas, &c., has been much better said already. the few days spent there seemed very short. should i ever be tempted to revisit the fine old city, however, i hope the municipal council will have made some arrangement for lighting the streets with gas. in this respect they are sadly behind the age; and in a gay population like that of moscow, which lives mostly at night, it is surprising that illumination has not before now been demanded by the popular voice. the portable gas which is carted about the streets in hogsheads, is a wretched makeshift. the sudden exhaustion of the supply of light frequently causes a theatrical performance to be interrupted until another hogshead of gas is procured; and during the interregnum young russia delights in electrifying the audience by yelling and whistling, as if they would bring the house down. a large building on the outskirts of moscow was pointed out to us as the foundling hospital, a great institution in russia, one of whose chief uses seems to be to rear ballet-girls, and most efficiently does it perform its functions. from moscow to petersburg by railway is a monotonous and uninteresting journey, especially in winter. the country is flat and bare; here and there a patch of winter wheat struggled through the thin covering of snow, but the general aspect in the month of december was that of a desert. the only town of note on the line is tver, on the volga, where the railway crosses that river. in the construction of the line, the convenience of the various small towns has not been consulted. it was a purely imperial project to connect moscow with petersburg. it is said that when the engineers, who were engaged in the construction of the line, applied to the emperor to know what curves they should make so as to pass through the most populous towns, he laid a ruler on the map, drew a straight line from petersburg to moscow, and bade them follow it. railways, like all other public works in russia, have been constructed at enormous expense, from the peculations of the officials who had to do with them. it is related of the emperor nicholas, that when he had failed to impress certain persian ambassadors with the magnificence of his capital, he turned in despair to prince menschikoff, and asked him whether there was nothing that would astonish them. the prince suggested that they might be shown the accounts of the moscow railway. we were not so favourably impressed with petersburg, as a place of residence, as we had been with moscow. it is a magnificent city, no doubt; its quays, bridges, "perspectives," palaces, and squares present a faultless exterior, and leave an impression of grandeur on the memory that makes other things small by comparison. but the chill of officialism rests on the place; it was created out of a swamp by the fiat of an emperor, and the imperial will is all-pervading still; you cannot shake off the idea. looking down the "nevsky," you take in at a glance miles of street laid out with mathematical accuracy, and the effect is very striking; you admire the magnificent nicholas bridge that spans the neva, a work that made the fortune of others besides the architect; in short, you admire everything separately and collectively about the capital, but the reflection always crops up that this fine city and the glory of it exists by the will of the emperor. moscow is antiquated; its streets are not so straight, nor so wide, nor so regular; its buildings are not so imposing; but it is a natural and spontaneous growth; there is a more homely and comfortable air about it than petersburg; and it was not built for the admiration of the world, but because people wanted houses to live in. petersburg lacks the historical interest that invests the old capital, and it will be long before it displaces the holy city in the affections of the russians, who one and all have a kind of superstitious reverence for moscow. the czars also hold the old city in high esteem, and are said to regard the kremlin as the focus and ultimate asylum of their power. the season was late in petersburg. up to the middle of december the little snow that fell melted. the temperature varied from a little above to a little below the freezing point. some days the neva brought down masses of floating ice from lake ladoga, and on other days the river was quite clear. i fear the pork-butchers of the interior were premature in sending in their supplies of frozen pigs, for they seemed very likely to get thawed in the mild atmosphere of petersburg. the sky was constantly overcast, and the few hours of daylight were consequently cut short at both ends. everything conspired to throw a gloom over the place, and the people were longing for their snow roads and their sledges, their races and games on the neva, and the pleasures of their winter season. the "court" was at tsarskoe-selo, writing despatches, while the polish insurrection, the proposed congress of paris, and the financial difficulties of the government, supplied food for gossip to all circles in the city. the reply of the emperor to the invitation of his "good brother," as published in the _journal_, excited universal admiration. and as for the currency crisis, everyone had some nostrum of his own which would infallibly put things right, but none of them seemed to touch the essential point, the supply of bullion. great activity prevailed in the government dockyards, where a number of iron-clads were being built. one of these building yards was close to miss benson's, where i lived, and we got the full benefit of the clanging of hammers, from a very early hour in the morning, till the latest hour at night at which we happened to be awake. i believe they worked day and night, as if busily preparing for war. some vessels had been hurried out of england unfinished, and enormous quantities of iron-plating, and other materials, had been imported from england for vessels to be constructed in russia. the yards we were shown through were all under the superintendence of english firms, and englishmen occupy responsible positions in the admiralty. the number of iron-cased frigates in progress at petersburg and kronstadt, is sufficient to account for the abstraction of bullion from the government treasury in such amounts as to derange the paper currency of the country. but the financial disturbance is of some years' standing, although it has gradually been getting worse. it dates from the crimean war, which drained the resources of russia, both in men and treasure, to an extent which the government has been reluctant to admit. the difficulty was met at the time by the increased issue of paper-money, which government has never been able to redeem. the crisis was not much felt until the polish insurrection again taxed the energies of the government, while it was still languishing under the effects of the crimean war, and unprepared for this fresh demand on its resources. this was probably the real reason why the government was so slow to meet the emergency in poland with adequate means. more paper-money had to be issued, unrepresented by bullion, and unconvertible. the paper currency became depreciated twelve to fifteen per cent. below its ostensible value, and in the uncertainty that prevailed as to the future, business was for a time brought almost to a stand. all the financiers of russia have been labouring to restore the equilibrium, but as yet their best laid schemes have failed, for none of them has discovered the means of replenishing the bank treasury. the most casual observer cannot fail to mark the respect in which all classes in russia hold the emperor. in the most distant provinces, indeed, the peasants regard the czar as a kind of demi-god who, if he could only be informed of their grievances, would set all to rights. but in petersburg, where his majesty may be seen any day in the street, divested of ethereal attributes, the people love him. the contrast between the reign of the present emperor and that of his father is very striking. formerly the interests of agriculture, manufactures, and commerce were sacrificed to the ambitious schemes of the czar. the military glory of the empire, and the imperial projects of aggrandisement absorbed the energies of government; and to promote these ends the substance of the country was wasted. that is all changed now. the emperor alexander ii. from the time of his accession has devoted his energies to the amelioration of the condition of the people, to the encouragement of native industry, to the economising of the national resources, and to promoting the efficiency of the executive. reforms have been set on foot in all departments of the state,--military, legislative, financial, and social. success has attended many of these new measures; many are still in progress; but the great work is only begun. it is an important step gained, however, that the government has become alive to the need of administrative reform, and if the life of the present monarch be spared to the age of his father, he will have left his country a century in advance of where he found it. the russian soldier is now smart and well equipped, well armed, well fed, and well treated. military discipline has been greatly improved, and the men have now to go through regular courses of gymnastics. the army is undergoing a transformation. recruiting is more regular. the term of service has been reduced to fifteen years, but practically it is much less. the soldiers begin to look like civilised beings, and to acquire self-respect. important reforms in the legislature of russia have also been introduced. the term of penal servitude has been greatly reduced. a project of law-reform which will include trial by jury is under deliberation. this, if carried, will be a startling innovation in russia; and will no doubt be the precursor of many other popular measures. a budget is now published yearly, which, though it is not of much practical utility, is nevertheless in some sort a recognition of the political rights of the people. the police, customs, and the navy are all being subjected to improvements more or less important; in short, the spirit of reform has been so active, that its influence pervades every institution, except perhaps the church. some evils have necessarily attended the recent changes. for example, the abolition of the brandy farm, and the substitution of a system of excise, by reducing the cost, has increased the consumption of spirits among the peasantry. the fatal consequences of excess threatened to be alarming in some parts of the country, and i heard great complaints in siberia of the increase of drunkenness. but as a financial measure it has been very successful. the excise duty on spirits in gave the government , , silver (_i.e._, paper) roubles, which is more than one-third of its gross annual revenue. the revenues of the russian government are still susceptible of great development. the system of corruption that prevailed so long that it had become almost respectable, has been attacked, but it must be rooted up before the government can reap the full harvest of its own financial resources. this is not a matter of easy accomplishment, however, as the men from whom the emperor is entitled to look for support are themselves directly interested in the continuance of the old system of universal peculation. the vast extent of territory also over which the government executive is diffused, adds greatly to the difficulty of the radical reform of time-honoured abuses. no annoyance of any kind, either about passports or luggage was experienced by us in arriving at, or departing from petersburg; but the pleasantest impression the czarish capital left on my mind was that of the kindness and hospitality of my own countrymen, and of all others whom i happened to meet there. chapter xxiii. russia and china. one cannot travel for four months through the two largest empires in the world, without reflecting on the analogies and contrasts which they mutually present, and trying to figure out the causes which have been working such different results in each, since they first became acquainted with one another. analogies in the manners, customs, and modes of thought of the two races are constantly turning up; and their resemblance to the chinese has become a proverb among the russians themselves. both empires were subjugated in the thirteenth century by the mongol-tartar hordes under the descendants of genghis; and both succeeded in expelling the invaders from their respective territories. from that time the histories of russia and china have been closely interwoven; their frontiers have been gradually approaching each other, as russia extended her conquests eastward, and china westward; and for the last two hundred years the advancing wave of russian aggression has impinged on the whole northern line of the outlying deserts and wildernesses which own the sway of china. the triumphal advance of the russians over the aboriginal tribes of siberia was checked when it came in contact with the superior civilisation and higher military organisation of the chinese; and, after a five years' war, china was in a position to impose conditions on russia, which was done by the treaty of nerchinsk, . but the russian schemes have never been abandoned. with the patience of the asiatic, combined with the determination of the european, russia has contested the frontiers of china with slow and fluctuating, but ultimately certain, success. sometimes by force of arms, sometimes by diplomatic craft, by every device that cunning could suggest, russia has made good her progress in chinese territory from point to point, until the last grand _coup_ of general ignatieff in crowned all her endeavours with success. by making dexterous use of the victory of the anglo-french troops at peking, he, with a stroke of the pen, transferred to russia the whole coast of manchu-tartary, from the mouth of the amur river to the frontier of corea. when china first encountered russia in the debates about the frontier, every advantage was on the side of the former. china was in the position of a powerful, wealthy, populous, and civilised nation, dealing with barbarians. if men were wanted, the warlike manchus were ready at call. if money was wanted, the resources of china, with her vast producing population, were immeasurably superior to those of russia, and perhaps to any country in the world at that time. the chinese were acting on the defensive, and near home. the government was vigorous and intelligent, and naturally confident of its own superiority. the russian people were, on the other hand, ignorant, servile, and degraded. their government was not much better; and their military resources could only be drawn from vast, thinly peopled, unproductive steppes. peter the great infused new life into russia by the energy of his own character, and the judicious encouragement of foreigners, by which means he tried to graft civilisation on his unpromising stock. amid his varied cares he did not forget his supposed interests in the far east; but both he and his successors found china too hard a nut to crack. the manchu emperors had consolidated their power in china, and from the days of kanghi, who drove the russians from the districts they had occupied on the amoor in , till the early part of the present century, china was strong and prosperous. the czars could do no more than send embassies, chiefly charged with mercantile questions, to the "khan of khans," at peking. the russian ambassadors were treated as suppliants at peking; their reception was such as was accorded to the missions from subject states--in chinese phrase, "tribute bearers." but russia was all the while making rapid strides in her own internal progress; foreign inventions, and foreign enterprise, were largely subsidised, and russia became a great military power. the passion for aggrandisement was strongly developed in peter, in catherine ii., and in nicholas; but still russia could only knock at the gates of china by means of peaceful missions, and china could still afford to be supercilious. but while russia progressed, china at the best was stationary; and, since the first english war in - , the germ of decay which the effeminate luxury of the chinese court had implanted into the manchu dynasty, born in a hardier climate, has rapidly spread over the whole complex machine of chinese government. the degenerate manchu emperors, forgetting the wisdom of their fathers, abandoned themselves to flatterers, discontinued the manly sports to which their predecessors attached so much importance, neglected the affairs of government, and wallowed in sensuality. the last emperor, hienfung, died almost in the prime of life of the grossest debauchery. a wide-spread corruption was the natural result of the demoralisation of the court, and injustice and oppression pressed heavily on the people. brigandage on a gigantic scale appeared, and soon wasted the fairest provinces of china, running riot for ten years almost unchecked by the imbeciles who ruled at the capital and in the provinces. the whole fabric was ready to fall to pieces, and only waited for some determined will to take the reins out of the hands that were no longer able to hold them. up to the last, however, the self-blinded rulers of china refused to believe in their vulnerability, until the fatal delusion was rudely dissipated by the capture of peking itself by the anglo-french forces in . the empire lay prostrate at the feet of her conquerors, whose moderation in the hour of victory was the marvel of the vanquished. but china's extremity was russia's opportunity; and the subtlety of russian diplomacy was never exhibited to greater advantage than on this occasion. the russian minister had affected warm friendship to the chinese government in its troubles, and volunteered indirect assistance to it in the impending struggle with the foreigner. but the moment he saw the chinese government at its wits' end, he swooped down on it with unscrupulous demands, which included the cession to russia of the whole sea-coast of manchuria, and the large tract of country from the usuri and amoor rivers to the sea of japan. the chinese were in no condition to demur, and to aid them in coming to a conclusion, they were gently told that in the event of non-compliance, the vengeance of the czar would be more terrible than the chastisement they were then smarting from. the treaty was made, and russia triumphed. the substantial loss to china of the manchurian forests was inconsiderable; but the importance of the gain to russia can hardly be over-rated. up to that time, russia had possessed no harbours on the pacific that were not closed by ice for half the year. this new accession of maritime territory gives to russia many excellent harbours, particularly towards its southern extremity, which are open several months longer than the harbour of nikolaefsk at the mouth of the amoor. the new harbours in manchuria are moreover of easier access, not only shortening the voyage from europe or china by some or miles, but affording great advantages over nikolaefsk in the simplicity of navigation. the present helpless condition of china is in a great measure owing to the contempt of military affairs which a long peace had engendered. the chinese people are eminently averse to fighting, and consequently to all military matters. they have a proverb which illustrates this: "haou tih pu ta ting; haou jin pu tso-ping." of good iron you don't make a nail; of a good man you don't make a soldier. they are too intent on industrial pursuits to waste men, time, or money in feeding armies. hence they are at the mercy not only of foreign armed powers, but of any band of native ruffians who may organise a pillaging expedition. an enlightened and energetic government, alive to the progress of other nations, would have seen that an efficient standing army was not only compatible with the prosperity of the country, but absolutely essential to its existence; and would have made a military nation of the chinese in spite of their more peaceful proclivities. but the government of china has for half a century been the reverse of this. blind and deluded, it has wrapped itself up in false security, trusting to ancient prestige and adroitness in negotiation to keep the wolf from the door, and has let the military element slip through its fingers. the paper wall collapsed at the first touch of the hostile foreigner. the government lost the respect of its own people, and became more than ever a by-word among the nations. the ascendancy of russia, on the other hand, is due directly to her military organisation. her frequent struggles in europe compelled her to look well to her armies; and the ambition of universal dominion, deeply rooted in the russian autocrats from peter downwards, and probably even long before peter's time, was a powerful stimulant to military enterprise. the constant wars of aggression in asia gave employment to large armies, wasted them, and called for continual drafts of new troops. everything combined to make russia a great military nation. the absolute despotism of the czars, allied to projects of vast ambition, was eminently favourable to such a result. this very despotism and lust of conquest probably grew up under the all-pervading influence of the mongols. genghis bequeathed to his successors the sovereignty of the world, just as peter the great did five centuries later. the mongol khans taught the russian princes how to oppress the people. the extortion which these vassals practised under the sanction of the dreaded mongol name, inured the rulers to tyranny, and the people to submission. when the invaders were expelled, therefore, it was natural that the arbitrary habits of the russian princes should be retained. it was also a natural reaction of ideas for the russians, when their time came, to turn the tables on their late conquerors. they had seen tartar hordes, moved by one strong will, overrun asia, and rule a large portion of europe. why should not emancipated russia issue forth from europe and subjugate asia? but whencesoever the idea of the conquest of asia had its origin, the history of russia for the last two centuries shows how persistently it has been followed up through each successive reign, and how remarkably it has ruled the policy of the czars from peter to nicholas. it was no small advantage to russia, considered as an asiatic nation, and not the least barbarous among them, to live on the confines of european civilisation. the czars have been wise enough to avail themselves of the advanced knowledge, and the energy to apply it, which their european neighbours possessed. they cannot be said to have civilised russia by this fusion of foreign materials, but they have certainly succeeded in making her a powerful nation. it is not probable that the russian government could ever have held its head so high in the counsels of europe without this extraneous aid; and although they might, from their native resources, have overcome the nomad tribes of the asiatic steppes, they could hardly have been in a position to dictate terms to china. the chinese government has had similar opportunities of using foreign science, and mechanical and other inventions, though in a less degree. but it has, till lately, despised and rejected them, and has paid dearly for its mistake. in one respect the two empires greatly resemble each other, and that is in the general venality of their officials, high and low. the fact is recognised, to a certain extent, by the governments, and being probably considered irremediable, they seem to make the best of it by placing men in responsible positions, with salaries ludicrously inadequate to provide for the ordinary necessities of life. this has proved one potent cause of the decline of china. in russia the vigour of the government has risen superior to the evil. official dishonesty may have done incalculable injury to the prosperity of the country, but the will of the czars makes its voice heard to the remotest corner of their unwieldy empire. the provincial officers have great latitude for defeating the ends of justice and good government from sordid motives, and, in a general way, the government will not scrutinise their conduct very closely. but nothing is allowed to obstruct the execution of an ukase from petersburg, and the government is, on the whole, well served. everything in russia has been made subservient to the glory of the czars and the military status of the country, and every consideration is sacrificed to the furtherance of that one object. it cannot be denied that the warlike and aggressive policy of russia has been productive of much good. the hidden wealth of desert regions has been to some extent at least developed, and highways of commerce have been opened up through forests peopled with wild animals and their hunters. the plough has been driven over old battle-fields, and populations have been settled where all was desolation before. these, and such like, have been the good results which may be considered as a set-off against the evils of war. how different have been the issues of the infatuated "peace at any price" policy of china, where fertile plains are being daily converted into battle-fields! these, however, are but some of the external or accidental circumstances which have modified the characters of the two empires, and variously influenced their destinies. the essential causes of the progress of russia and the decadence of china lie much deeper. some people would tell us that russia is in the young, vigorous and growing stage of its national life, just emerging from barbarism, when every step must be towards improvement, because, from their low starting point, deterioration would be impossible; while china, on the contrary, has long since reached maturity, has outlived the natural term of national existence; its industries, arts, learning, social life, and all that constitutes civilisation, have reached a point beyond which they cannot advance; that the zenith of its glory has been passed; and that, in the natural course of things, the only advance it can now make must be towards decay and dissolution. but that theory of the decline of china does not hold good. the mass of the people have not degenerated; they are as fresh and vigorous as ever they were. it is the government only that has become old and feeble; and a change of dynasty may yet restore to china the lustre which legitimately belongs to so great a nation. the indestructible vitality of chinese institutions has preserved the country unchanged through many revolutions. the high civilisation of the people, and their earnestness in the pursuit of peaceful industries, have enabled them to maintain their national existence through more dynastic changes than, perhaps, any other country or nation has experienced. "la nation (chinoise)," says de guignes, "s'est trouvée renfermée dans des bornes naturelles et fortifiée, jusqu'à un certain point, contre les étrangers. d'ailleurs ces étrangers ont toujours été barbares; ainsi lorsque quelquefois ils ont été assez puissants pour pénétrer dans la chine et pour s'emparer de cet empire, l'attachement inviolable des chinois à leurs anciens usages a forcé les vainqueurs d'adopter les lois des vaincus. l'empire a changé de maîtres sans changer de lois. lorsqu'un jour les tartares, qui le possèdent à présent, seront chassés par une famille chinoise, il n'y aura que le nom de tartare d'aboli; le gouvernement sera toujours le même, et la nation se retrouvera dans l'état où elle était il y a deux mille ans."[ ] [ ] hist. des huns, tom. iii. p. . the barbarian invaders had nothing to substitute for the institutions of the chinese, and they made no permanent impression on the nation. so far from being able to grind down the people, the result of their successive conquests has been rather to open up new fields of enterprise to the industrious chinese, who have gradually appropriated to themselves the territories of their conquerors. thus the manchu tartars have been edged back into the forests by the energetic chinese colonists, have lost their influence, become absorbed in many parts of their country, and are now almost extinct as a nation. the unprecedentedly long existence of the chinese nation, of their language and literature, their laws and their philosophy, has naturally produced in the people a high veneration for antiquity. their geographical position isolated them from all the rest of the world, excepting the rude nomads of tartary. so, for many ages, they saw no people equal to themselves in education and intelligence, and no laws like their own. they were constrained to despise the barbarism, even while they feared the power, of their neighbours or their enemies. their intercourse with the romans was not sufficiently close to give them much idea of the culture of that people, and they judged of mankind at large by their experience of the tartars. it was therefore in the nature of things that an overweening self-satisfaction should spring up among them, which would ripen into arrogance. they came to think themselves _the_ nation, the "middle kingdom," the centre of the world, and to look upon all foreign races as "outer barbarians." whatever _we_ may think of this national conceit now, there can be no question that, up to a recent period, the chinese were justified in their high opinion of themselves, and their contempt for all other races, languages and laws. it is necessary to keep this in view, in order rightly to appreciate the character of the chinese. they are very generally supposed to be so proud and bigoted that they cling with blind affection to the traditions of the past, insensible to excellence of any kind that is new, or of extraneous origin. but this notion of their character is wide of the truth. as their own greatness comes from ancient times, and they have passed the culminating point of their civilisation, so their reason dictates to them reverence for the past, just as their experience has taught them to despise everything external. the intercourse between the chinese and the civilised nations of europe has, in the first instance, brought out the weak side of the chinese character into prominent relief, and held it up to the derision of the world; but as that intercourse has become more intimate and thorough, it has afforded a rational explanation of some apparently anomalous traits of character, and has produced among those of the chinese who have come within its influence, modifications in their views of relative superiority. ideas that have grown with the growth of a people, through many ages, are not likely to be eradicated in a day; but, if founded on reason, they will yield to reason, when it has shown them to be erroneous; and the adoption of new ideas is likely to be permanent in proportion to the slow and gradual nature of the transition. the chinese first encountered modern europeans in small numbers, and in the outposts of their empire. they naturally applied to these visitors the rules whereby they had from time immemorial been taught to manage strangers or barbarians. the western adventurers who repaired to the shores of china were actuated by purely utilitarian motives; and to promote their own objects they were not above pandering to the arrogance of the chinese. had their policy been different, indeed, they had but slight opportunities of exhibiting their superiority in culture and civilisation; and their numbers were too insignificant to have made any marked impression. the result of the earlier intercourse between europeans and chinese was, therefore, rather to confirm than destroy the self-esteem of the latter, who continued to regard the new tribe as belonging to the category of barbarians. the east india company did its share in perpetuating the chinese conceit, by submitting to every indignity that was offered to it for the sake of trade. the natural tendency of this course of action, so soon as the controlling power of the company was removed, was to bring on quarrels, the history of which everyone knows. in these wars, which succeeded each other between and , the superiority of european civilisation asserted itself in china; the government was first compelled to acknowledge the power of the foreigner, and it is now learning something of the moral qualities of nations whom it had affected to regard as beasts.[ ] for the first time in their history, the chinese came into contact with a people superior to themselves. no precedent could be found to guide them in the great emergency, and hence the aggression of europeans inevitably entailed disaster on china, which experience alone could have enabled them to avoid. the ascendancy of europeans in china is now a fact accomplished and irrevocable, accepted by the natives themselves, and therefore destined to work important changes on the condition of the people and their government. [ ] soo-tung-po (a celebrated chinese classic author), says, "the e and the teih" (the former term being used to designate foreigners), "are like the brute creation, and cannot be governed by the same rules of government as those of the central nation. if liberal rules of government were applied to them, it would infallibly give rise to rebellious confusion. the ancient kings knew this well, and therefore ruled them without laws (or by misrule). this is therefore the most judicious mode of governing them."--_amherst's voyage; lindsay's report._ the people have been quick to appreciate the advantages which foreign appliances offered to them in the conduct of their business. for many years their merchants have been employing european vessels in the coasting trade, induced by economy, despatch, and the facilities for insurance thus secured. the extension of sea-board opened to foreign enterprise by lord elgin's treaty, and the free navigation of the great river yangtsze-kiang, have attracted a large fleet of steamers to the coast and rivers of china. these are chiefly employed, and in many instances owned, by natives. in everything the chinese have exhibited a remarkable freedom from prejudice. they are much too practical to allow any freak of fancy to influence them in matters in which they have a tangible interest. the chinese government also has shown, in the most emphatic manner, the high value it sets on european aid, both in civil and military affairs. the alacrity with which it has adopted the modern engines of war at the dictation of foreigners in whom it had confidence, proves conclusively that the conservative government of china is not so wedded to its own traditions as to reject innovations indiscriminately. it may be slow in coming to a conclusion, and is naturally jealous of any reform which is imperfectly understood. but it only wants convincing evidence of the utility of any measure that may be suggested to ensure its adoption. and on those occasions when the government may appear most reluctant to leave the beaten track, there may be other motives for this besides mere obstinacy. its prestige is in peril; indeed, may be said to be already to a great extent lost. the wholesale introduction of foreign improvements would place the government at the mercy of its foreign _employés_, and its existence as an active and responsible power would be virtually destroyed. the attempt to amalgamate foreign ideas of progress with ancient precedent and stagnation is at best a hazardous experiment, if any value is to be attached to the preservation of the integrity of the government. great allowance must therefore be made for the difficult position in which chinese statesmen find themselves. reforms they know to be necessary; but their duty is so to temper them that they may be adopted with the least possible shock to indigenous institutions. and, even if they foresee the ultimate collapse of these institutions, still their prudence would lead them so to restrain the influx of new ideas, that changes might not be too sudden or sweeping. the chinese nation is at present in a crisis of its history, in which it is peculiarly susceptible of external influences; and as its foreign relations become more and more consolidated, these influences are brought to bear from various quarters and in constantly increasing force. great britain having by far the largest stake in the country, and the largest share of the responsibility attaching to the necessary interference in its affairs, the state and prospects of china demand from us a little more attention than is usually bestowed upon them; for the destiny of that great empire, and our own future interests, will be to some extent moulded by our present policy. the problem that is now being worked out in that country is one of which history affords no clue to the solution. the nation has been convulsed for fourteen years by a great insurrection. that is nothing new to the chinese; but the conditions are vastly altered. according to precedent, some powerful tartar or chinese prince would have appeared to aid the government in quelling the rebellion, and then seat himself on the throne. or the empire might have been dismembered between two independent dynasties. some such solution may still be found, though it is not easy to see whence the movement is to come. were the other european powers out of the way, russia would be almost in a position to grasp at the sovereignty of china. had the crisis occurred a hundred years ago, and our interest in the country been as great as it is now, china might have become a second india. but none of these contingencies is now feasible. the integrity of china, and the independence of its government, are sufficiently hedged round by the jealousies of rival powers. the cause of the insurrection, and the great difficulty in the way of a settlement of chinese affairs, and of the re-establishment of order, lie in the utter prostration of the imperial government. this circumstance, which would have been the strength of the insurrectionary party had they possessed the elements of cohesion or administrative capacity, tends only to prolong the weary struggle. the rebels have forfeited the respect of all classes, except the most profligate, or the most ignorant. their dynastic ambition has been made a convenient battle-cry to cover their crimes. they have no policy but devastation, and have neither the disposition nor the ability to govern. even if they succeeded in crushing the existing government, they would still have to be subjugated in their turn by some other power, before tranquillity could be restored to the country. the imperial government has been at last awakened to the importance of quelling the rebellion, which for many years was only trifled with. the division of authority in the provinces prevented that combined action which alone could have met the exigencies of the situation. it was considered a great success, if a body of insurgents was merely chased out of one province into another. the efforts of the imperial government were, and are still, constantly nullified by the private interests of the provincial authorities. that is one of the greatest abuses that their peculiar system of government is liable to. the armies that are levied from time to time to defend the provinces are mere local bands, under the control of the governor or his deputies, over whose acts the imperial government has little or no check. if left entirely to itself, it is doubtful whether the present government would ever have been able to make head against the rebellion at all. what has been accomplished towards that end has been mainly due to the moral support of foreign powers, and the active services of european military officers. the necessity of centralising the government more and more has been made obvious to the prince regent. that is one of the reforms most urgently needed to secure efficiency and economy in the administration. the old system worked well enough in quiet times, and as long as there was no disturbing element. but the extension of foreign influence along the coast, and in the interior of the country, is constantly stirring up questions of imperial interest, the inevitable result of which is to sink local customs, and to place foreign relations at all the ports on one level. the embassies at peking have helped to bring all local and provincial questions home to the imperial government in a more direct manner than ever was done before. the british minister, deeply impressed with the advantages that must result to china from the centralisation of the government, has striven by all legitimate means to promote it. he has only been partially successful, it is true, and in his despatches of june last he betrays disappointment at the result of his efforts. but still a good deal has been done, and every day's experience must teach the government the necessity of strengthening its own authority, and of exercising a more direct and active control over the provincial governors than heretofore. the attitude of france and england towards the belligerents in china is anomalous. their principle at first was strict neutrality, but the rapid extension of commercial intercourse has rendered this course impracticable. the imperial government has been tamed into granting us a treaty advantageous to us, but much more so to china herself. by this treaty several new ports of trade were opened on the coast; access to peking, and the residence of foreign ministers there, were secured. but above all, the yang-tsze-kiang was thrown open to foreign trade and navigation. that noble river had been closed to commerce for about eight years. the rebellion had devastated the country on both sides; the cities on its banks were in ruins, and their populations dispersed or destroyed. from a point five hundred miles from the sea, downwards, to chin-kiangfoo, scarcely a sail was seen on that vast expanse of water. such was the state of things in , when the navigation was opened to foreigners. now the muddy waters are ploughed by a large fleet of steamers; the greatest activity prevails everywhere; cities are being rapidly rebuilt, and populations are returning. the products of the interior are freely interchanged with those of the sea-board, and a new life has been imparted to great tracts of country. the lion's share of this new trade has as usual fallen to the natives. it is they who chiefly supply cargoes for the foreign steamers, and native trading craft everywhere crowd the river. these events brought us into contact with the rebels, who held, and still hold, nanking as their head-quarters. from that point they commanded the river on both sides, and it became necessary that the british authorities should make arrangements for the protection of commerce. amicable relations with them were attempted to be established, but, as was natural, it soon appeared that our interests clashed with the assumed rights of the insurgents, and that our close alliance with the imperial government was incompatible with similar relations with its enemies. but the programme which the taepings announced touched us more nearly than that. the conquests which they proposed to themselves included some of the very ports which were then being opened on the river, an event which would have nipped the root of that new development of trade. our interest in china, as politicians are constantly telling us, is purely commercial. but peace is essential to the prosperity of commerce, and the present state of confusion and civil war is inimical to it. early in the rebels menaced shanghae in great force, drawing a cordon of forts round the city, and cutting off the supplies from the interior. provisions rose to famine prices, and the vast population of the city and suburbs was forced to undergo a siege. some years before that time circumstances had compelled the british government to undertake the protection of the treaty-ports, and more especially shanghae, as being the most important of them, and the most open to attack from the rebels, who held the whole country in rear of it. but, in , it became imperative to do more than that. the little garrison placed there for the defence of the city, might be kept under arms for months, or even years, ready to repel an attack when the invaders should come within range of the city walls; the population would live in a chronic state of panic, many of them would leave (as they did); trade would be paralysed; the city and foreign settlement would be a mere fortified camp, cut off from all communication with the interior of the country. in this crisis sir james hope, then naval commander-in-chief, came to the front. that officer was well acquainted with the character of the taepings; he had had a great deal of communication with them, and had tried every means in his power to induce them to change their manners, so as to secure the respect of their countrymen and of foreigners. he had also repeatedly warned them of the disastrous consequences which would follow any demonstration on their part against the consular ports, shanghae in particular. the state of affairs in shanghae, in the beginning of , made it clear to sir james hope that the effective protection of the city involved the necessity of such aggressive operations as would clear the country in the immediate vicinity. without waiting for instructions, therefore, he assumed the responsibility of immediate action, and commenced a campaign against the taeping strongholds, which extended over a space of nine months, and ended in the dispersion of these marauders from that portion of country included in a radius of thirty miles from shanghae. this is a practical illustration of what the policy of the british government has been, and how it has from time to time submitted to circumstances. at first we have the theoretical principle of strict neutrality broadly asserted; then we are compelled to violate that principle in our own defence; an emergency arises in which the officers on the spot have to choose the alternative of an armed protection of british property, necessarily including a portion of the territories of the imperial government, or the abandonment of british interests to destruction. our own government confirms the decision of its officers--hence, first the ports themselves, and then the arbitrary thirty-mile radius are placed under foreign protection. at such a distance from the scene of operations, amid such rapid changes in the posture of affairs, and with such important interests at stake, it would be impossible for downing street to frame a code of instructions for officers in china which would apply to all possible contingencies, and impolitic to frame them on the pattern of the laws of the medes and persians. the abstract principle of non-intervention is very excellent in itself, but to adhere to it when our own material interests are directly assailed, would be pure infatuation. expediency and self-interest must, after all, be our rule in china as elsewhere. our government at home, and its officers abroad, have always had a dread of complications in china, but much as they have studied to steer clear of them, they have step by step been sucked in, and the end is not yet. the disturbances that have ruined so many of the richest districts in china are incompatible with the free course of trade. we have, therefore, a direct interest in the restoration of peace. the present government of china is on friendly, and even confidential, terms with us; it has shown great readiness to cement still closer our mutual relations. it is, moreover, such as it is, and with all its rottenness, the representative of order, and the rallying point for whatever remains of patriotism in the country. the insurgents, on the other hand, are hopelessly given up to their propensities for desolation. if, therefore, peace is to be restored to china at all, within the present generation, it can only be by the subjugation of the insurgents, and the ascendancy of the imperial government. with this view admiral hope first supported the american, ward, a soldier of fortune, but a man of energy and genius, who disciplined and led a chinese force in the service of the imperial government. following up the same line of policy, men and material were subsequently lent to the force, and, after ward's death, a great number of her majesty's officers and men were permitted to join it, and the little army was placed under the command of captain (now lieutenant-colonel) gordon of the engineers. under that officer the force grew to be a formidable power. its career during the twelve months or so of gordon's command was, with one or two exceptions, a series of brilliant successes. it can no longer be said that the chinese do not make good soldiers. under leaders in whom they have confidence, they exhibit the highest military qualities. gordon was, perhaps, the first who taught chinese troops to overcome a repulse. the result of gordon's campaign has been to recover from the rebels the whole of the province of keangsoo, between the grand canal and the sea. he has cut the taeping rebellion in halves. the capture of soochow, last december, gave him the command of the grand canal, and enabled him to interrupt communications thereby between the rebel garrisons of nanking and hangchow. leaving the latter point to be acted on by the franco-chinese, who had ningpo for their base, gordon followed the grand canal towards nanking, and captured all the cities that lay between. nanking itself would probably have fallen an easy prey to him, but at that juncture he was compelled to resign his commission in the chinese army. the service was, from the first, distasteful to him, from the position he occupied in relation to the chinese officers with whom he had to act. the treachery perpetrated by the foo-tai, or governor of the province, at the capture of soochow, in putting to death the rebel chiefs who had surrendered to gordon, disgusted him; and, failing to obtain satisfaction from the government for this outrage on his own good faith, he determined to quit the service. the queen's order in council which permitted him to serve the emperor of china was withdrawn, and the "ever victorious" army has been disbanded, with what consequences the future will disclose. it will be always a difficult thing for an officer with a high sense of honour, and with proper self-respect, to serve the chinese government on its own terms, though it would be comparatively easy for a military adventurer, who is less particular, to build up his own fortunes in such a career. the system of management which places the forces of the empire under the control of local authorities, whose interests are frequently antagonistic to those of the nation and the imperial government, precludes foreign officers from attaining their proper position. they are liable to be called upon to participate in proceedings of which their humanity disapproves. they have to listen to the constant complaints of disaffected troops in arrears of pay. they never can calculate with certainty on next month's supplies, and their men are always on the verge of mutiny. the disbursements for troops are provided out of the provincial treasuries, and hence the provincial authorities have a direct interest in levying as small a number of men as possible, and in doling out their pay in such measure only as may suffice to prevent a general rising. the scheme of supplying the chinese government with a steam fleet failed for this, among other reasons, that captain osborn declined to serve under any mere provincial authority. whether the chinese government will now of itself be able to give the _coup-de-grace_ to the taepings, or whether, through the incapacity and venality of local officials, anarchy will again distress the newly-conquered districts, is a question of serious import both to them and to us. the policy to be pursued by the british government in china, in any emergency that may arise, will demand honest consideration. it has been too much the fashion of political agitators to treat the subject flippantly, and to make the "china question" a parliamentary shuttle-cock. the general indifference to the subject which prevails in and out of parliament, affords ample scope for misrepresentation, and some of the men to whom the country looks for sound views are often guilty of hiding their light under a bushel. to go no further back than the last debate on china, as reported in the "times," june st, , we there find ample illustration of the fallacious arguments advanced by a certain class of politicians when dealing with this subject. mr. bright is very solicitous to clear his friends, who had preceded him in the debate, from the imputation of party motives, that their statements may carry the more weight. the disclaimer will naturally apply _à fortiori_ to himself. but "_qui s'excuse s'accuse_." how does mr. bright treat those who ventured to express opinions at variance with his own? an honourable member, desirous of obtaining light on the question, sought for it in the prosaic region of fact. applying to the most authentic sources within his reach, he had collected opinions from a number of persons who had a practical knowledge of the country. these various opinions were remarkably concurrent, but they did not suit mr. bright's argument. he therefore considers them "uninteresting," and accounts for their unanimity by insinuating that the honourable member had concocted them all himself! the ponderous speech of mr. cobden is as remarkable for what it omits as for what it contains. his object seemed to be to show, first, that our commerce in china was not worth protecting at all; and, secondly, that he had an infallible scheme of his own which would secure the ends that the policy of the government had failed in attaining. the facts he adduces in support of his argument are judiciously selected; the inferences he draws from them are framed to suit his foregone conclusions, but have no kind of reference to the relation between one fact and another. causes and effects are blended in a fantastic medley, well calculated to throw dust in the eyes of the unwary, but fatal to the elucidation of truth. mr. cobden excludes from his view of the china trade the most important part of it, selecting the smallest item--the direct exports from this country--as a criterion of our commercial progress in china. his deductions from such a partial view of facts must necessarily be worthless. but, even on the narrow ground he has chosen, his conclusions are all forced. he avoids saying so in plain language, but the only inference that can be drawn from his line of argument, is that the successive re-actions that have occurred in the advancement of our export trade to china have been the result of our war policy there, and of the closer intimacy of our political and social relations with that country. if mr. cobden means anything, he means that. now what do the facts say, even as mr. cobden himself has stated them? after the peace of , our exports increased steadily up to , in which year they doubled the value of , the year that followed the abolition of the east india company's monopoly. for ten years, after , the value of our exports fell to a lower level. yet during that time we were at peace with china. a marked falling off occurred in , but that was caused by the prostration of trade consequent on the outbreak of the taeping rebellion, a circumstance wholly overlooked by mr. cobden. the wars of - were followed by an unprecedented increase in our exports in , and . mr. cobden is perfectly right in saying that the trade of these years was vastly overdone, and a recoil was inevitable. but even in the two following years, when the re-action was operating in full force, the export returns showed a vast increase beyond the highest point reached in , or in any year previous to . at this point, mr. cobden, probably discovering that he had _proved too much_, shifts his ground to the single article--cotton. if, as the member for portsmouth said, mr. cobden considers manchester as the centre of the world, the cotton test is probably to his mind the most infallible. the exports of cotton goods to china fell from , , yards in , to , , yards in ; and to , , yards in . "that," says mr. cobden, "is the character of the business you are transacting in china." a word from mr. cobden would have explained the diminution of the export of cotton goods on an hypothesis, not at all involving the general decadence of our trade with china. the cotton famine had raised the value of the raw material to two shillings per pound, and the enhanced price which the manufactured goods cost to the chinese naturally diminished consumption. again, the chinese happened, at the beginning of the cotton famine, to be over supplied with cheaper and better goods, and old stocks had to be used up before a response to the exorbitant prices paid in manchester or an active resumption of business could be looked for. while surveying our relations with china from the "cotton" point of view, mr. cobden might have had the candour to acknowledge the handsome contributions of the raw material which lancashire has received _from_ china during the last three years. sir frederick bruce is a better authority than mr. cobden on chinese affairs, and he says, in a report to the foreign office, dated peking, june th, and published in the "times," september th, , "the import trade has increased from , , taels (about , , _l._) in (the last year before the opening of the yang-tsze and the northern ports), to , , taels (about , , _l._), in . the increase is due in a great measure to the large and increasing trade from the ports on the yang-tsze in chinese produce of all descriptions." the vastly increasing trade in imports into this country from china, compared with which the exports are a bagatelle, mr. cobden passes over as having no bearing on the question. the opium revenue to the indian government is also overlooked. the large shipping interest engaged in the china trade goes for nothing in mr. cobden's estimate, but it is nevertheless of great importance to the country, even though the vessels are not all owned in lancashire, and do not all carry cotton. the amount of capital that british ship-owners find employment for in connection with china, is not limited to the large fleet of vessels engaged in the direct trade with this country, but is spread all over the coast and rivers of china. in the dispatch above quoted, sir f. bruce states that the entries of foreign shipping in china have increased from , tons, in , to , tons in . the interest which british merchants, and through them the nation at large, possess in the prosperity of china is widely ramified. they are closely involved in the local and coasting trade; large amounts of british capital are sunk in fixed property of various kinds at all the open ports; and such investments are increasing at a rapid rate. these things lie under the surface, and are not generally considered in estimates that are formed in this country of the actual stake great britain has in china. but they are none the less real on that account. theorists may say what they will, but our establishment on the territory of china is a great and important fact; and whether the process which led to it was theoretically correct or not, it will be impossible to undo it. not only are we fixed in china ourselves, but large native populations at the treaty parts have thrown in their fortunes with ours, to abandon whom would bring calamities on the chinese for which it would baffle mr. cobden to find a remedy. to reverse our progress is, however, the policy or the hobby of mr. cobden. he would not only undo what has been done, but he would urge the government on to a new career of conquest in china, without even a pretext for war. he would seize two more islands on the coast in order to make free ports which would draw trade away from those now established. "get two other small islands ... merely establish them as free ports; i don't ask you to do more." mr. cobden does not commit himself to say how the islands are to be acquired, but he knows very well there is but one way of acquiring them. and supposing we took possession of two islands, how many would france take? and if england were to lead the way in such schemes of aggrandisement, would the ambition of france stop short at islands? many high-handed proceedings have been laid to the charge of this country, but this scheme of spoliation would surpass everything else of the kind. mr. cobden would probably suggest purchasing the islands, which would be, at least, a civil way of putting it. but the whole scheme is so purely utopian that one marvels that a practical thinker could have shown such contempt for his audience as to propound it. hong-kong is the model on which mr. cobden would shape his new colonies; very flattering to hong-kong, perhaps, but betraying an incredible forgetfulness of the whole history of that colony. the "london and china telegraph," of th june last, in commenting on mr. cobden's speech, shows clearly that the advancement of hong-kong as a port of trade was due to purely adventitious circumstances; and that for many years, when it rested on its own merits for success, it was an absolute failure, and a constant expense to the country. if mr. cobden aspires to be a second stamford raffles, he is beginning at the wrong end. our policy in china will be more safely left to the chapter of accidents than to visionaries. we have hard facts to deal with, and not phantoms of a lively imagination. the suppression of the taeping rebellion cannot fail to produce remarkable effects on the condition of the chinese people. they are ripe for great changes, not in the government or social institutions (the first is of little or no importance to the people, and the second are stereotyped), but in their relation to the progress of the world. amid all political convulsions the people have remained unchanged, and that mainly because they are a non-political people. they are indifferent to affairs of state, but intent on their own business. yet they have the faculty of self-government developed in an eminent degree. they are quiet, orderly, and industrious; averse to agitation of any kind, and ready to endure great sacrifices for the sake of peace. such a people are easily governed, and their instinct of self-government is one important element in their longevity as a nation; it has enabled successive dynasties, often weak and vacillating, arbitrary and corrupt, to control three hundred millions of people. this constitutes the elasticity by which they regain lost ground after any temporary disturbance. let the present reign of brigandage be destroyed, and the people will soon rise again; like pent-up waters they will flow into their former channels, and in a few years scarcely a trace of desolation would be left. in this prediction we have the experience of various episodes, even of the present rebellion, to guide us. the rapidity with which the city of shanghae was re-built, after its destruction during the rebel occupation of - , was astonishing. other cities have been re-built and re-peopled with equal rapidity. han-kow, on the great river, has been several times sacked and destroyed by the rebels, and in a short time after each visitation it was worth plundering again. the important city of soo-chow, captured from the rebels last december, is reported in june following to be showing signs of commercial life, although the surrounding country was still the theatre of war. the chinese people have, however, little cause for confidence in the efficiency or the stability of their own government; they have on the other hand implicit faith in foreigners. it is obvious, therefore, that any guarantee from western powers that peace should be maintained in the districts once recovered from the rebels, would stimulate the commercial and industrial energies of the people, and materially contribute to the renewed prosperity of the country. the prosperity of china is, then, intimately interwoven with our own, for vast fields of enterprise would now be opened out to europeans which have heretofore been closed. its resources have been developed to the utmost, perhaps, that a fossil civilisation, unaided by modern invention, is capable of. the chinese have been ahead of the world from time immemorial in agriculture, commercial economy, manufactures, and all industries; in short, in everything that constitutes material wealth; but now in these later days the world has in some things got a little ahead, and is waiting to impart its new accomplishments to them. the vast mineral wealth of the country has been but partially taken advantage of. its coal, iron, gold, and silver have hitherto been worked by the most primitive and inadequate machinery. but we are prepared to teach the natives how to economise their forces, and to make the most of the natural resources of their country; and they are being prepared to receive the lesson. the avidity with which the chinese have grasped at the advantages offered to them by the steamers that now ply on the coast, and on the great river, is an earnest of their readiness to appreciate any other western inventions that are commended by their practical utility. the favourable introduction of steam on the chinese rivers, and the popularity with which their earlier career was attended, were indeed due to fortuitous circumstances. on the yangtsze kiang steamers had not to compete with an old-established native trade--that had been for many years dead--but they reopened a commercial route that had been closed, and, at the time, they offered the only feasible means of navigating the great river. under different conditions they would have had to work their way slowly into the favour of the chinese; but now, having established a foothold, they will certainly maintain the position they have assumed, and the chinese would be sorry to return to their former _régime_, under which they could hardly hope to accomplish in a month what is now easily performed in three or four days.[ ] [ ] "owing to the violence of the winds, and the rapidity of the current in certain places, the application of steam to navigation was required before the yangtsze could be made available as a highway for transport. the decks of the steamers are now crowded with chinese passengers, and their holds are filled with produce destined, not for foreign export, but for chinese consumption. the practical advantages of foreign inventions are thus brought home to masses of the population in the very centre of china, and they can now avail themselves of the natural outlet for the productions of those rich internal provinces, instead of being driven to the slow and circuitous method of artificial water communication, and exposed to the exactions of the officials of the different provinces they had to pass through."--sir f. bruce. there is still great room for the extension of steam traffic in the interior of china, and great need of it. for the present, however, foreigners are limited by the provisions of the existing treaties, to the ports formally opened by those treaties. steamers may penetrate as far up the great river as hankow, miles from the sea; but the upper yangtsze, which is navigable by steamers for miles above that, must still be left to the monopoly of uncouth barges, which are slowly tracked up-stream by men who labour like beasts of burden. the navigation of the poyang and tung-ting lakes which communicate with the yang-tsze; the peiho river between tientsin and tungchow; the western river from canton to the province of kwangsi, and many other water routes--all practicable for properly constructed vessels--are equally excluded from foreign enterprise. the native traders on these routes are deprived of the aid which steam has afforded them in other quarters, and that by a decision of their government which, from a cosmopolitan point of view, is arbitrary and unjust. inexperience may excuse the chinese government for this narrow and pernicious jealousy, but what shall we say of european diplomatists who, in full view of the advantages which, as the past has shown, must accrue to natives and foreigners alike from the spread of foreign intercourse in china, would diminish "the points of contact" from a nervous, and not very rational, apprehension of possible complications? much has been said of the ruffianism that our newly established commerce on the yangtsze kiang has let loose on the great river. it cannot be denied; but it would be singular indeed if, with a weak government, a deplorably inefficient executive, and a timid people, outrages should not be committed. in every community there must be lawless characters whom physical force, or the dread of it, alone can restrain from criminal acts. under existing circumstances in china, it is the duty of each foreign state to control its own subjects; but it is manifestly unfair to circumscribe the legitimate privileges of a whole community, in order to punish a few unworthy members of it. such a policy can only be dictated by indolence in seeking out and punishing offenders. but the instances on record of piracy and other crimes on the yangtsze kiang, although authentic, are apt to engender exaggerated views of their relative importance. they are made unduly conspicuous by rhetoricians, who, on the other hand, ignore the smooth under-current of affairs which is silently conveying blessings to many thousands of people. these occasional outrages are, after all, mere excrescences on a system that, in an essential manner, ministers to the well-being of whole populations who would otherwise be in penury. at the worst, the good vastly outbalances the evil; and, to take the lowest view of the matter, it were better even that the lawless proceedings of a few rowdies should go on unchecked, rather than that the remedy for them should be found in the curtailment of a trade of such great promise. it must never be forgotten that it is the natives of china who derive the chief benefit from foreign commercial intercourse; and that, while arbitrary restrictions on the plain meaning of treaties, by which it has been sought to limit the application of their provisions, are unjust to foreigners, the refusal to extend foreign intercourse is an injustice of which the chinese people have a right to complain. the unexampled success of steamers in china, within the three past years, has paved the way for a similar result for railways. the chinese, having satisfied themselves of the advantages that accrue to them from the former, will be perfectly ready to avail themselves of the latter. they are not naturally given to travel, that is, they travel for profit and not for pleasure. but the facilities for locomotion which steamers now afford them have created a large and increasing passenger traffic. the steamers on the coast and on the rivers are usually crowded with chinese passengers, who seek very moderate accommodation, and therefore can be carried economically. the shortening of a month's journey to one of a few days has induced many thousands to travel who did not think of it before. it is, therefore, a fair inference that the greater economy of time which railways would secure would enable millions to travel who are at present excluded from it. the mere monopolising by railways of the revenues of the present passage-boats, and other means of passenger communication, in certain districts, would be but a trifle compared with the new traffic which railways would create for themselves in such a populous and eminently commercial country. and, perhaps, no other country of equal area presents fewer natural obstacles to the construction of long lines of railway. this has been shown by the investigations of sir macdonald stephenson, who has lately published a full report on the subject. the labour, and many of the materials, are to be found in the localities where they would be wanted. it may safely be assumed, also, that in no other country would railway investments be more remunerative, if organised on a uniform and comprehensive plan, such as that proposed by sir m. stephenson. the most populous parts of china are alluvial plains, either fed by great navigable rivers, or intersected in all directions by networks of canals. with regard to the great water routes, which are open to large vessels, it is very problematical whether railways could supersede, or even compete with, navigation in the carrying of bulky goods. it could not be expected, for example, that on the proposed line from hankow to shanghae, following the course of the great river for miles, goods should be conveyed as economically as in steamers that can navigate the river easily, carrying tons of cargo. but in those parts of the plain where very small craft only can be used, a railway may easily supersede the present means of transport. the saving of time would, perhaps, in all cases attract the passenger traffic to the railways, and that alone would probably be amply sufficient to support them remuneratively. there are many large tracts of country in china less thickly peopled than the rich plains, and which do not possess the same facilities of water communication. in the north the traffic is conducted by means of caravans, necessarily slow and expensive; and in some parts of central china, goods are transported on men's backs. in such regions railways would not only be highly remunerative, but would be an inestimable boon in opening up those parts of the country which, being less favoured by nature, have been kept far behind in wealth and prosperity. to compensate for these natural disadvantages of the north, the grand canal was cut to connect the city of hang-chow with peking. that stupendous work required constant repairs to maintain its efficiency, and a considerable annual outlay of money. in the disorders of the last ten years the necessary funds for this purpose have either not been raised, or have been misappropriated, and the grand canal has consequently gone to ruin. the importance which has been attached to this great line of communication by successive dynasties for years, point to the track of the canal as favourable for a line of railway. of all the branches of sir m. stephenson's scheme this is the most obviously desirable. a railway that would restore, and vastly increase the old traffic on the grand canal, would do for the forty populous cities it would touch at, what steam navigation has done for the marts on the banks of the great river. although peking and the commercial cities of north china are accessible by sea for eight months in the year, and in the direct communication between them and the southern coast ports, there is less urgent need of improvement, yet the time now occupied in travelling from peking to its nearest shipping port is as great as the whole journey to nanking or shanghae by railway would take. the benefits which the railway would bring to the inland cities, more remote from the sea or from navigable rivers than peking, would be incalculable. in the correspondence published by sir m. stephenson, to show the prospective results of the introduction of railways into china, rather too much stress has been laid on their bearing on foreign trade, and especially on the transport of tea from the interior to the shipping ports. there is nothing in the saving of a few hundred miles of a long sea voyage to compensate for the cost of transporting goods by railway. and the conveyance of tea would be a more insignificant item in the whole traffic of railways than it has already become in that of the steamers that trade in the heart of the tea districts. the whole question of the foreign trade of china may be put on one side so far as the railway scheme is concerned. the success of railways, and the need of them, rest on a much broader and surer basis. the internal trade of china; the interchange of the products of the diverse climates and soils that are included in the limits of the empire itself--is what really gives life and activity to the people. it is to that source alone that the promoters of railways ought to look for a guarantee of their success. the whole foreign trade in tea does not probably exceed one tenth of the native; and yet tea forms but a small proportion of the inland trade of china. in the consideration of the railway question, therefore, the more such irrelevant matter is kept out of account, the more likely are sound general conclusions to be arrived at. the lines to be established should be determined solely with a view to supplying the wants of the chinese in the broadest sense. but if a desire to benefit this or that port, or this or that party, be permitted to influence the direction of the undertaking, it will probably be at the expense of its ultimate success. the political advantages that would flow from the use of railways would be no less important than the commercial. it would bring the distant provinces within reach of the government, and enable it more effectually to centralise its authority, without which it is no longer possible to govern china well. peking is in the worst situation that could have been selected for the seat of government; that is, from a chinese point of view. it was convenient as a citadel for the tartars while they were consolidating their power, as its vicinity to their native wilds kept open for them an easy retreat in the event of revolution. and, while their vigour remained fresh, the enfeebling influence of distance from the provinces was neutralised by the energy of the executive. but in the process of degeneracy which the manchu dynasty, like its predecessors, has undergone, the remoteness of the capital has been a fertile cause of misrule, corruption, and distress in the provinces. the natural capital of china is nanking or hang-chow, or some other easily accessible point in the central provinces. the railway scheme, by connecting all parts of the empire in rapid daily communication, would bring the government face to face with its officers; local abuses would be exposed, if not corrected, and imperial and national interests would cease to be at the mercy of corrupt, mendacious, and treacherous provincial authorities. nothing would so surely save the existing government from the annihilation which threatens it; restore order throughout the country; and promote the well-being of all classes. the local famines and inundations to which china has in all ages been liable, and which, from the absence of proper communications, have occasionally entailed great suffering on the people, would, under the reign of railways, lose their horrors. the brigandage with which the government keeps up a desultory and unsatisfactory struggle over an area too wide for rapid or decisive results, would die a natural death, were railways in operation. their moral effect alone would do much to keep down local risings, and the facility they would afford for the transport of troops would enable the government to act with promptitude at the point required; and instead of keeping up half-disciplined, disaffected, and idle hordes, often worse than useless, and yet very expensive, a small, compact, well-equipped force, with the power of motion which railways would supply, would do the work better, and at a mere fraction of the expense. railways would be very popular with the chinese people, whose readiness to support them is proved by their capitalists offering to invest in shares. but will the consent of the imperial government be granted to the project? without its co-operation nothing can be done; and this therefore is the question which will have to be primarily decided. in the first place there is the _vis inertiæ_--the aversion to innovation--to be got over. that can be accomplished if the government can be convinced of the advantage of the proposed scheme. then, on the other hand, the representatives of foreign powers at the court of peking may, from national jealousy, influence the government against any reform emanating from great britain. but the determination of the chinese government will depend most of all on the view which the british minister or _chargé d'affaires_ may happen to take of it; and he may meet the projectors with active or lukewarm support, or with positive opposition. the conciliatory and upright spirit which has ruled sir frederick bruce's intercourse with the chinese government has inspired it with unlimited confidence in the british minister, whose counsels have in consequence acquired great weight in peking. it is earnestly to be hoped that his successor will avail himself of the good impressions sir frederick leaves behind him to promote with all assiduity those reforms and improvements which, while subserving the best interests of china, will also redound to the honour and the profit of our own country. it is the duty of our ministers to maintain the legitimate influence of this country in china. our actual interest in that empire greatly outweighs that of any other people; but we are in some danger of losing our prestige, and allowing other powers to rival us. we failed in the telegraphic scheme through mongolia, but the russians will certainly accomplish it. the lay-osborn fleet failed, but the french and the americans will supply its place. we have withdrawn british officers from the chinese service; but the french and americans remain. railways will, some day, be established in china; the people are as ripe for their introduction now as they ever will be; if we miss the opportunity, some other nation will seize it, and, with or without us, china will have railways. the electric telegraph would of course accompany railways, if, indeed, it does not precede them. i am not prepared to speak of the adaptability of the chinese hieroglyphics to telegraphy, but the chinese people and government have a keen appreciation of the importance of the rapid transmission of intelligence. this is shown by the admirable system of government expresses, and the extent to which carrier-pigeons have been used to influence the exchange markets of china. the vast area of the chinese empire would render telegraphic communication more than ordinarily acceptable, and, in the present age of the world, even necessary. it needs no great stretch of imagination to predict that the free use of machinery in china will yet do much to enrich the nation, and to ameliorate the condition of the poorer classes. many parts of the country are suffering from overpopulation. their economy in food, clothing, and housing, together with the great fertility of the soil in such districts as the plains of che-kiang and keang-soo, enable an incredibly large population to find a subsistence there. but persons on the square mile is too much, even for the richest part of china, to support efficiently. a large proportion of these people is consequently underfed, poorly clad, and miserably lodged; they suffer the penalties of civilised life without its comforts, and their physical and mental development are seriously impaired. the chinese do not possess within themselves any remedy for this state of things; economy of their means and moderation in their desires have already been cultivated to perfection. their manual industry is unexampled, and leaves no room for improvement. their diligence in taxing the resources of their soil cannot be exceeded. the surplus population might certainly find an outlet in foreign lands, but the chinese people as a whole are singularly averse to emigration. the greatest boon that could be conferred on these people, and the only feasible means of raising many thousands of them from the lowest depths of poverty, would be the introduction of new industries which would give them profitable employment, which at present they are excluded from. a promising field is open for this. the perseverance of the chinese is proverbial, and the perfection they have attained in making the most out of the means at their disposal has been the admiration of the whole world. but they are still strangers to the modern mechanical appliances of europe and america for economising human labour. compared therefore with the attainments of western nations, the material resources of china are wasted. the division of labour, as practised in the agricultural districts of china, is diametrically opposed to the principle advanced by adam smith. each family grows, spins, weaves, and wears its own cotton; and so with many other products. this system has the advantage of keeping the people employed all the year round, and there may no doubt be a great deal to be said in its favour. but to what purpose--with what results--is all this labour spent? the practical answer to this is, that it has happened that england has imported raw cotton from china, manufactured it, returned it to china two years afterwards, and sold the cotton cloth cheaper than the article could be produced by domestic labour on the spot where it is grown. it is, of course, to a small extent only, that england can compete in manufactured cotton with the native product of china. but that it should be possible at all, first to buy the raw material at such an enhanced price over the cost to the natives as will induce them to part with it, then to send it , miles across the sea, and the same distance back again, and spite of the enormous expenses incurred in the operation, still to supply the manufactured article at a lower cost than the natives produce it at, proves that a vast amount of labour is misapplied in this branch of chinese industry. and yet their manufacture of cotton has, perhaps, been brought to a higher state of efficiency than any other. their coal and iron are worked in the most primitive manner. both articles are supplied from abroad, although existing in great abundance in the country. the native coal that is sold in the markets of china costs from thirty to forty shillings per ton, and is so poor in quality that english coal is more economical at double the price. by proper appliances, and a better system of working, the quality of chinese coal might be greatly improved, and the cost diminished. it would be endless to enumerate the various departments in which steam and machinery might be advantageously applied in china. sugar and paper may be mentioned, as also the various oils used by the chinese, all produced and consumed in the country in enormous quantities, and all susceptible of great improvement both in the cost and quality of the preparations. in everything that constitutes the wealth of the country we see the same disproportion between the power expended, and the results obtained, as has been instanced in the case of cotton. the waste of human labour is multiplied by the vast and varied products of the country; and the field offered for the expansion of new enterprises is commensurate with the size and population of the chinese empire. the introduction of machinery into the interior of the country, and its application to the manufactures that now employ the people, will only be secured by a slow and gradual process. great opposition would be met with, particularly at the outset; for, though we may claim for the chinese a freedom from prejudice equal to any other people, it would be absurd to expect of them more enlightenment than our own countrymen have shown, when put to the test by innovations which threatened to supersede manual labour. the chinese will be convinced, as usual, by results. when they find the materials of wealth which they now possess multiplied to them by the cheapness of the necessaries of life, they will not be slow in following up the idea. the elevation of the poorer classes, when profitable occupation is supplied to them, will create new wants, while it provides the means of gratifying them. the benefits accruing to china will naturally react on this country precisely to that extent to which a commercial nation must always profit by the increasing wealth of its customers. in small matters also, the social condition of the chinese people is in a fair way of being improved by their contact with restless and progressive foreigners. gas, which is now being introduced into hong-kong and shanghae--a simple thing in itself--may nevertheless do something towards elevating the chinese, and preparing them for more important advances. the erection of water-works, for the supply of the large cities, would be a boon of no ordinary value to those populations who live on the alluvial plains. the impure water, drawn from turbid rivers and canals which are the receptacles of filth, is a fertile cause of disease in many localities. these communities might be supplied with pure filtered water at a lower cost than is at present paid for the mere carriage of the unwholesome compound now obtained from sources as putrid as the thames. one successful experiment would probably demonstrate the necessity of extending water-works to most of the populous cities in the empire.[ ] [ ] shanghae, from its situation and over-crowded population, is one of the greatest sufferers from the want of pure water; and there cannot be a doubt that this circumstance has contributed, in no slight degree, to the sickliness that has prevailed there for several years past, as the increase in the population tends more and more to the defilement of the river,--the only source whence water is obtained. the question of water-supply for that settlement having been submitted to practical and experienced engineers in london, the result of their calculations is, that a system of water-works, with reservoirs beyond the influence of sewage, would provide each household with an unlimited supply of pure, filtered water, at about one-fourth of the expense which is at present incurred in merely carrying water from the river to the houses. messrs. simpson and giles have further demonstrated that, at the proposed rate of one shilling per , gallons, a large return would be secured on the capital necessary to be invested in the works. we may therefore hope that at no distant day the inhabitants of shanghae, at least, will enjoy this great blessing. nor is the influence of european intercourse with china limited in its scope to the mere commercial, manufacturing, and other material pursuits of the people. their notions of good government must be inevitably modified by it, and no one can estimate the extent to which a few europeans, by their superior force of character, may impress the huge multitudes of china. circumstances have rendered shanghae the great focus from which these external influences are brought to bear on the natives. the distracted state of the surrounding country first brought numbers of fugitives, both rich and poor, to seek shelter under the ægis of foreign flags, until an enormous population has accumulated on the ground set apart for the residence of foreigners. the kind of small republic which the europeans set up for their own protection, and for the due regulation of the natives who crowded into the settlement, became popular with the chinese; its functions became more and more important; and accessions of power were from time to time added to it, but always inadequate to the efficient discharge of its constantly increasing duties. the chinese like the municipal administration of shanghae, because, although heavily taxed, they at least know how the revenue is applied, and they enjoy more or less personal protection, and immunity from extortion. the system has worked with more harmony than could have been expected, considering that it to a certain extent rivals the provincial government. it has at any rate taken deep root, and may possibly be the precursor of similar growths at other commercial towns. in any disruption of the chinese power that may result from the present disorganised condition of the empire, these anomalous foreign "settlements" will certainly play an important part. the weakness of the government of the country and the disorders which accompany it, while impairing the prosperity of the settlements as commercial _emporia_, tend to strengthen their political influence. the prestige which naturally accompanies a european residence, and the guarantee of security to life and property, with or without armed protection, which it holds out to the chinese people, render these consular ports asylums of authority in times of anarchy, and will naturally maintain them as commercial centres when the government of the country has crumbled away. in them a nucleus of power will be preserved, which will facilitate the reconstruction of a government, should the present one be broken up, and in this way these commercial settlements may yet prove of essential service to the chinese nation. they may possibly grow into free, independent republics, an issue which the leading journal has more than once predicted. in an article of june , , the "times" says:--"the free cities we hope to see are those which grow of their own accord, and which arise out of the circumstances of an abundant commerce and an unsettled country. if the nations of europe would agree to stand aloof, we should very soon see little commercial republics intrenching themselves and extending themselves upon the shores of china; just such cities as arose upon the coast of africa, and in later history upon the coasts of italy, when similar dangers compelled traders to draw together for defence and self-government. we believe that our cheapest and our best policy is not to establish, but to favour the growth of such communities as may develop themselves into free cities. nor can we expect that this development will be the work of a day, or that so great a ruin as that which is mouldering over the heads of one-third of the human race can fall, and be reformed into modern habitations, without many clouds of dust and some terrible catastrophes." should such be the destiny of these trading ports, no class will have more cause for satisfaction than the body of chinese who may reside in them, who regard with pleasure every advance of foreign influence, and would be glad to live in peace under any power strong enough to maintain it. postscript. events have progressed rapidly in china since the foregoing chapter was written. lieutenant-colonel gordon, after resigning his commission in the chinese army for the reasons i have mentioned, apparently considered that it would be too hazardous at such a juncture to leave the government entirely to its own devices. he accordingly remained, with the approval of major-general brown, to instruct and advise them, and he has had the satisfaction to witness the crowning success of all his labours, in the fall of nanking, and the extinction of the taeping rebellion. the two provinces of che-kiang and keang-soo--the richest and most populous in china--are now freed from rebels, and have had peace and order once more restored to them. it may require some little time entirely to reassure the populations of these provinces of the security of life and property in districts that have so long languished under the devastating effects of civil war; but there is now every reason to suppose that the reign of anarchy has been banished for many years to come, and that the pacified region will soon enjoy the prosperity which its natural advantages must bring, enhanced, as it must inevitably be, by the extended intercourse with foreigners which has not yet had an opportunity of bearing its full fruit. this success of the imperial arms has naturally resulted from the acceptance of foreign ministers at the court of peking, and the introduction of china into the family of nations, which is the great triumph of the policy inaugurated by lord palmerston twenty-four years ago, and steadfastly followed up by that statesman through good and evil report. whether the scattered remnants of the taepings will again become formidable from their concentration in the province of kiang-si, beyond the reach of the immediate foreign aid which has led to their dispersion, will depend very much on the vigour of the imperial government at peking. if it realises the gravity of the position, and the truth of the maxim that prevention is better than cure, it will adopt timely and energetic measures to anticipate a reorganisation of the taepings. but, however that may be, it is pretty certain that if the provisions of the treaty were carried out in the broad sense evidently contemplated by the framers of it; if the poyang lake and the rivers which communicate with it were freely opened to foreign trade; if europeans were permitted to reside at the commercial marts of kiang-si, their moral weight alone, especially after the campaign just concluded in keang-soo and che-kiang, would go far to prevent any further demonstration of the rebels in that quarter. the authorities at peking may yet find cause to regret that their suspicion of friendly foreigners has deprived them of such important auxiliaries at many of their most vulnerable points. _october ._ [illustration: the water communication of northern asia, between kiakhta & the ural moun^{t.s} _london. john murray albemarle street._ _stanford's geographical estab^t london_] * * * * * transcriber's note: minor typographical errors have been corrected without note. irregularities and inconsistencies (such as hyphenation) in the text have been retained as printed. the illustrations have been moved so that they do not break up paragraphs, thus the page number of the illustration might not match the page number in the list of illustrations. missing page numbers are page numbers that were not shown in the original text. the cover for the ebook version of this book was created by the transcriber and is placed in the public domain. page : "which leads them to make great sacrifices when required to do honour to the manes of their ancestors" ... "manes" has been changed to "names". note: project gutenberg also has an html version of this file which includes the original extraordinary illustrations. see -h.htm or -h.zip: (http://www.gutenberg.net/dirs/ / / / / / -h/ -h.htm) or (http://www.gutenberg.net/dirs/ / / / / / -h.zip) two spellings, "tunguse" and "tunguze," are used throughout the book for the same tribe. the caption of illustrations # , , , differ from the captions given in the table and were not changed. overland through asia: pictures of siberian, chinese, and tartar life travels and adventures in kamchatka, siberia, china, mongolia, chinese tartary, and european russia, with full accounts of the siberian exiles, their treatment, condition, and mode of life; a description of the amoor river, and the siberian shores of the frozen ocean; with an appropriate map, and nearly illustrations by thomas w. knox. author of _camp fire and cotton field_ [illustration: frontispiece, the author in siberian costume] preface. fourteen years ago major perry mcd. collins traversed northern asia, and wrote an account, of his journey, entitled "a voyage down the amoor." with the exception of that volume no other work on this little known region has appeared from the pen of an american writer. in view of this fact, the author of "overland through asia" indulges the hope that his book will not be considered a superfluous addition to the literature of his country. the journey herein recorded was undertaken partly as a pleasure trip, partly as a journalistic enterprise, and partly in the interest of the company that attempted to carry out the plans of major collins to make an electric connection between europe and the united states by way of asia and bering's straits. in the service of the russo-american telegraph company, it may not be improper to state that the author's official duties were so few, and his pleasures so numerous, as to leave the kindest recollections of the many persons connected with the enterprise. portions of this book have appeared in harper's, putnam's, the atlantic, the galaxy, and the overland monthlies, and in frank leslie's illustrated newspaper. they have been received with such favor as to encourage their reproduction wherever they could be introduced in the narrative of the journey. the largest part of the book has been written from a carefully recorded journal, and is now in print for the first time. the illustrations have been made from photographs and pencil sketches, and in all cases great care has been exercised to represent correctly the costumes of the country. to frederick whymper, esq., artist of the telegraph expedition, and to august hoffman, (photographer,) of irkutsk, eastern siberia, the author is specially indebted. the orthography of geographical names is after the russian model. the author hopes it will not be difficult to convince his countrymen that the shortest form of spelling is the best, especially when it represents the pronunciation more accurately than does the old method. a frontier justice once remarked, when a lawyer ridiculed his way of writing ordinary words, that a man was not properly educated who could spell a word in only one way. on the same broad principle i will not quarrel with those who insist upon retaining an extra letter in bering and ohotsk and two superfluous letters in kamchatka. among those not mentioned in the volume, thanks are due to frederick macrellish, esq., of san francisco, hon. f.f. low of sacramento, alfred whymper, esq., of london, and the many gentlemen connected with the telegraph expedition. there are dozens and hundreds of individuals in siberia and elsewhere, of all grades and conditions in life, who have placed me under numberless obligations. wherever i traveled the most uniform courtesy was shown me, and though conscious that few of those dozens and hundreds will ever read these lines, i should consider myself ungrateful did i fail to acknowledge their kindness to a wandering american. t.w.k. astor house, n.y., sept. , . [illustration: list of illustrations by tay & cox nassau st. n.y.] . frontispiece, the author in siberian costume . character developed . aspinwall to panama . slightly monotonous . montgomery street in holiday dress . san francisco, . chinese dinner . over six feet . steamship wright in a storm . a sea sick booby . wreck of the ship canton . aleutians catching whales . breach of etiquette . unexpected honors . russian marriage . russian pope at home . a scaly bridge . russian tea service . change for a dollar . cow and bear . a kamchatka team . repulse of the assailants . view of sitka . plenty of time . russian officers at mess . ascending the bay . taking the census . light-house at ghijiga . towed by dogs . koriak yourt . discharging a deck load . reindeer ride . tail piece, reindeer . wagon ride with dogs . yearly mail . dogs fishing . teachings of experience . boat load of salmon . an effective protest . nothing but bones . tail piece--native woman . seeing off . life on the amoor . a gilyak village . about full . tail piece--a turn out . on the amoor . cash account . wooding up . bear in procession . practice of medicine . manjour merchant . gilyak man . gilyak woman . peasants by moonlight . tail piece--the net . ten miles an hour . goldee house at night . the hypocondriac . "not for joe" . tail piece--scene on the river . reception at petrovsky . armed and equipped . general activity . tail piece--flask . manjour boat . a private temple . fishing implements . chinese family picture . manjour traveling carriage . tail piece--towards the sun . the ammunition wagon . finishing touch . emigrants on the amoor . sa-ga-yan cliff . rifle shooting . tail piece--game . preparing for winter . tail piece . stratensk, eastern siberia . a siberian tarantass . tail piece . favorite bed . concentrated energies . prisoners at chetah . on the hills near chetah . bouriat yourts . a mongol bell . a mongol belle . catching sheep . a cold bath . tail piece . our ferry boat . equal rights . amateur concert in siberia . chinese mandarin . interior of chinese temple . through ordinary eyes . through chinese eyes . legal tender . russian pets . pony express . a disagreeable appendage . suspended freedom . punishment for burglary . chopstick, fork, and saucer . chinese theatre . chinese tiger . chinese punishment . provision dealer . chinese mendicants . the favorite . female feet and shoe . a lottery prize . a pekin cab . a chinese palanquin . priest in temple of confucius . comforts and conveniences . filial attention . tail piece--opium pipe . a musical stop . nankow pass . racing at the kalgan fair . street in kalgan . in good condition . lost in the desert of gobi . mongol dinner table . crossing the tolla . the schoolmaster . tail piece . wild boar hunt . a wife at irkutsk . no wife at irkutsk . a soudna . after the earthquake . lake baikal in winter . a specimen . tail piece--the world . gov. general korsackoff . view--irkutsk . a cold attachment . queen of greece . emperor of russia . tail piece--twin bottles . home of two exiles--real, imaginary . tail piece--quarters . tartar cavalry . siberian exiles . tail piece . a vashok . a kibitka . farewell to irkutsk . our conductor . jumping cradle holes . valley of the yenesei . wolf hunt . hydraulic mining . tail piece . down hill . dogs among ice . jumping the fissures . the team . tail piece . in the mine . strange coincidence . tail piece . the elopement . the fight . the catastrophe . tail piece . the polkedovate . making explanation . after the bath . tail piece . the driver's toilet . women spinning . flogging with sticks . tail piece . lost in a snow storm . fatal result . tail piece . excuse my familiarity . frosted horses . view of ekaterineburg . europe and asia . a russian beggar . beggars in kazan . the immersion . russian priest . tail piece . great bell of moscow . view of the nevski prospect, st. petersburg . tail piece--meeting an old friend contents chapter i. off from new york--around the world by steam--value of a letter of credit--a cure for sea sickness--doing the isthmus--an exciting porpoise race--glimpse of san francisco--trip to the yo semite valley--from the golden gate into the pacific chapter ii. a strange company--difficulties of sea life--a tall man and a short room--how the dog went to sleep--a soapy cabin--catching a booby--two sundays together--a long lost wreck--incidents at sea--manner of catching whales in alaska--a four footed pilot--dog stories--how to take an observation--coast of asia--entering avatcha bay--an economical light keeper chapter iii. in a russian port--hail columbia--petropavlovsk--volcanoes and earth-quakes--directions for making a russian town--a kamchadale wedding--standing up with the bride--a hot ceremony--a much married pope--russian religious practices--drinking with the priest and what came of it chapter iv. vegetation in kamchatka--catching salmon--a scaly bridge--an evening on shore--samovars and tea drinking--the fur trade--bear hunting--what a cow brought home one day--siberian dogs--a musical town--the adventures of norcum--training a team--sledges and how to manage them--a voyage under the polish flag--monument to captain clerke--the allied attack--the battle of petropavlovsk chapter v. bering's voyages--discovery of alaska--shipwreck and death of bering--the russian-american company--the first governor of alaska--promushleniks--russian settlement in california--account of russian explorations--character of the country--its extent and resources--advantages and disadvantages of the alaska purchase chapter vi. leaving kamchatka--farewell to the ladies--a new kind of telegraph--entering the ohotsk sea--from steam to sail--sleeping among chronometers--talking by-signs--a burial at sea--a russian funeral--land in sight--ghijiga bay chapter vii. baggage for shore travel--much wine and little bread--a perplexing dilemma--how to take the census--siberian beds--towed by dogs--encounter with a beast--coaxing a team with clubs--the koriaks--their manners and customs--comical cap for a native--a four footed currency--yourts and balagans--curious marriage ceremony--lightening a boat in a storm--very strong whisky--riding on a reindeer--an intoxicating mushroom--an electric devil--a siberian snow storm--how a party was lost chapter viii. how a pointer became a bull dog--coral in high latitudes--sending champagne to neptune--arrival at ohotsk--three kinds of natives--a lunch with the ladies--a native entertainment--a mail once a year--a lover's misfortune--an astonished american--hunting a bear and being hunted--an unfortunate ride chapter ix. at sea again--beauties of a northern sky--warlike news and preparing for war--the coast of japan--an exciting moment--a fog bell of sea lions--ready for fight--de castries' bay--a bewildered fleet--goodbye to the variag--in the straits of tartary--a difficult sleeping place--a siberian mirage--entering the amoor river chapter x. on shore at nicolayevsk--an american consul--visiting the governor--machine shops on the amoor with american managers--the servant girl question--a gilyak boat full of salmon--an unfortunate water carrier--the amoor company--foreign and native merchants--raising sheep among tigers--rats eating window glass--riding in a cart chapter xi. up the amoor--seeing off a friend--a siberian steamboat--how the steamboats are managed--packages by post--curiosities of the russian mail service--an unhappy bride--hay barges--gilyak villages--visiting a village--bad for the nose--native dogs--interviewing a gilyak lady--a rapid descent chapter xii. the monastery of eternal repose--curious religious customs--features of the scenery--passengers on our boat--an adventurous merchant--captured by the chinese--a pretty girl and her fellow passenger--wooding up--an amoor town--the telegraph--how it is built and operated--a native school--fighting the tiger--religious practices of the gilyaks--mistaken kindness chapter xiii. stepanoff and his career--a manjour boat--catching salmon--a sturgeon pen--the islands of the amoor--a night scene at a wooding station--a natural cathedral--the birds of the amoor--the natives of the country--interviewing a native mandarin chapter xiv. entering a goldee house--native politeness--what to do with a tame eagle--an intelligent dog team--an exciting race--a mongol belle--visiting a goldee house at night--a reception in a shirt--fish skin over-coats--curious medical custom--draw poker on the amoor river--curiosity--habarofka--"no turkey for me"--a visit on shore--experience with fleas chapter xv. first view of china--a beautiful region--petrovsky--women in the water--an impolite reception--a scanty population--visiting a military post--division of labor for a hunting excursion--the songaree--a chinese military station--resources of the songaree--experience of a traveler--hunting a tiger--a perilous adventure chapter xvi. ekaterin--nikolskoi--the province of the amoor--character of the cossack--the buryea mountains--a man overboard--passing a mountain chain--manjour boats--bringing pigs to market--women in the open air--a new tribe of natives--rest for a bath--russian caviar--how it is made--feeding with a native--a heavy drink--a fleet of fishing boats chapter xvii. scenery on the middle amoor--a military colony--among the manjours--a manjour temple--a chinese naval station--a crew of women--strange ways of catching fish--the city of igoon--houses plastered with mud--visiting a harem--talking pigeon-chinese--visiting the prison chapter xviii. the mouth of the zeya--blagoveshchensk--kind reception by the governor--attending a funeral--a polyglot doctor and his family--intercourse with the chinese--a visit to sakhalin-oula--a government office--a chinese traveling carriage--visiting a manjour governor--a polite official--a russian mongol reception--curiosities of the chinese police system--advice to the emperor of china chapter xix. a deer-hunting picnic--russian ploughing--nursing a deer gazelle--a shot and what came of it--the return and overturn--the siberian gazelle--a russian steam bath--how to take it--on a new steamer--the cabin of the korsackoff--a horse opera--an intoxicated priest--private stock of provisions--the dove a sacred bird--emigrant rafts--a celestial guard house chapter xx. the upper amoor--sagayan cliff--- hunting for gold--rich gold mines in the amoor valley--the tungusians--a goose for a cigar--an awkward rifle--albazin--the people in sunday dress--the siege of albazin--visiting the old fort chapter xxi. a sudden change--beef preserved with laurel leaves--a russian settler--new york pictures in a russian house--the flowery kingdom--early explorations--the conquest of the amoor--a rapid expedition--the shilka and the argoon--an old settled country--a lady in the case--hotels for the exiles--stratensk--a large crowd--- end of a long steamboat ride chapter xxii. a hotel at stratensk--a romantic courtship--starting overland--a difficult ferry--a russian posting carriage--good substitute for a trunk--"road agent" in siberia--rights of travelers--kissing goes by favor--captain john franklin's equipage--value of a ball--stuck in the mud--the valley of the nertcha--reaching nerchinsk chapter xxiii. an extensive house--a russian gold miner--stories of the exiles--polish exiles--"the unfortunates"--the treatment of prisoners--attempts to escape--buying a tarantass--light marching order--a bad road--sleeping on a stove--the valley of the ingodah--two hours in a mud hole--recklessness of drivers--arrival at chetah chapter xxiv. location of chetah--prisoners in chains--ingenuity of the exiles--learning hail columbia in two hours--a governor's mansion--a hunting party--siberian rabbits--difficulties of matrimony--religion in siberia--an artillery review--champagne and farewells--crossing a frozen stream--inconvenience of traveling with a dog--crossing the yablonoi mountains--approaching the arctic ocean chapter xxv. a cold night--traveling among the mongols--the bouriats and their dwellings--an unpleasant fire--the bhuddist religion--conversions among the natives--an easy way of catching sheep--a mongol bell--a mongol belle--a late hour and a big dog--bullocks under saddle--an enterprising girl--sleeping in a carriage--arrival at verkne udinsk--walking in the market place--stories of siberian robbers--an enterprising murderer--gold and iron mines on the selenga chapter xxvi. crossing a river on the ice--a dangerous situation--dining on soup and caviar--caravans of tea--the rights of the road--how the drivers treat each other--selenginsk--an old exile--troubled by the nose--lodged by the police--a housekeeper in undress--an amateur concert--troitskosavsk and kiachta--crossing the frontier--visiting the chinese governor chapter xxvii. in the chinese empire--a city without a woman--a chinese court of justice--five interpretations--chinese and russian methods of tea making--a chinese temple--sculpture in sand stone--the gods and the celestials--the chinese idea of beauty--the houses in maimaichin--chinese dogs--bartering with the merchants--the chinese ideas of honesty--how they entertained us--the abacus chapter xxviii. russian feast days--a curious dinner custom--novel separation of the sexes--the wealth of kiachta--the extent of the tea trade--dodging the custom house--foreign residents of kiachta--fifteen dogs in one family--the devil and the telegraph--russian gambling--dinner with the chinese governor--chinese punishments--ingredients of a chinese dinner--going to the theatre in midday--two dinners in one day--farewell to kiachta chapter xxix. trade between america and china--the first ship for a chinese port--chinese river system--the first steamboat on a chinese river--the celestials astonished--a nation of shop-keepers--chinese insurance and banking systems--the first letters of credit--railways in the empire--the telegraph in china--pigeon-english--the chinese treaty chapter xxx. the great cities of china--pekin and its interesting features--the chinese city and the tartar one--rat peddlers, jugglers, beggars, and other liberal professionals--the rat question in china--tricks of the jugglers--mendicants and dwarfs--"the house of the hen's feathers"--how small feet became fashionable--fashion in america and china--gambling in pekin--an interesting lottery prize--executions by lot--punishing robbers--opposition to dancing--the temple of confucius--temples of heaven and earth--the famous summer palace--chinese cemeteries--coffins as household ornaments--calmness at death chapter xxxi. a journey through mongolia--chinese dislike to foreign travel--leaving pekin--how to stop a mule's music--the nankow pass--a fort captured because of a woman--the great wall of china--loading the pack mules--kalgan--mosques and pagodas--a mongol horse fair--how a transaction is managed--a camel journey on the desert--how to arrange his load--a mongolian cart--a brisk trade in wood for coffins chapter xxxii. entering the desert of gobi--instincts of the natives--an antelope hunt--lost on the desert--discovered and rescued--character of the mongols--boiled mutton, and how to eat it--fording the tolla river--an exciting passage--arrival at urga--a mongol lamissary--the victory of genghis khan--chinese couriers--sheep raising in mongolia--holy men in abundance--inconvenience of being a lama--a praying machine--arrival at kiachta chapter xxxiii. departure from kiachta--an agreeable companion--making ourselves comfortable--a sacred village--hunting a wild boar--a russian monastery--approaching lake baikal--hunting for letters--"doing" posolsky--a pile of merchandise--a crowded house--rifle and pistol practice--a russian soudna--a historic building--a lake steamer in siberia--exiles on shore--a curious lake--wonderful journey over the ice--the holy sea--a curious group--the first custom house--along the banks of the angara--a strange fish--arrival at irkutsk chapter xxxiv. turned over to the police--visiting the governor general--an agreeable officer in a fine house--paying official visits--german in pantomime--the passport system--cold weather--streets, stores, and houses at irkutsk--description of the city--the angara river--a novel regulation--a swinging ferry boat--cossack policeman--an alarm of fire--"running with the machine" in russia--markets at irkutsk--effects of kissing with a low thermometer chapter xxxv. society in irkutsk--social customs--lingual powers of the russians--effect of speaking two languages to an infant--intercourse of the siberians with polish exiles--a hospitable people--a ceremonious dinner--russian precision--a long speech and a short translation--the amoorski gastinitza--playing billiards at a disadvantage--muscovite superstition--open house and pleasant tea-parties--a wealthy gold miner chapter xxxvi. the exiles of --the emperor paul and his eccentricities--alexander i.--the revolution of --its result--severity of nicholas--hard labor for life--conditions of banishment--a pardon after thirty years--where the decembrists live--the polish question--both sides of it--banishments since --the government policy--difference between political and criminal exiles--colonists--drafted into the army--pension from friends--attempts to escape--restrictions find social comforts--how the prisoners travel--the object of deportation--rules for exiling serfs chapter xxxvii. serfdom and exile--peter i. and alexander ii.--example of siberia to old russia--prisoners in the mines--a revolt--the trial of the insurgents--sentence and execution--a remarkable escape--piotrowski's narrative--free after four years chapter xxxviii. preparing to leave irkutsk--change from wheels to runners--buying a suit of fur--negotiations for a sleigh--a great many drinks--peculiarities of russian merchants--similarities of russians and chinese--several kinds of sleighs--a siberian saint--a farewell dinner--packing a sleigh--a companion with heavy baggage--farewell courtesies--several parting drinks--traveling through a frost cloud--effect of fog in a cold night--a monotonous snow scape--meals at the stations--a jolly party--an honest population--diplomacy with the drivers chapter xxxix. a siberian beverage--the wine of the country--an unhappy pig--tea caravans for moscow--intelligence of a horse--champagne frappé--meeting the post--how the mail is carried--a lively shaking up--board of survey on a dead horse--sleeping rooms in peasant houses--kansk--a road with no snow--putting our sleighs on wheels--a deceived englishman--crossing the yenesei--krasnoyarsk--washing clothes in winter--a siberian banking house--the telegraph system--no dead-heads--fish from the yenesei--a siberian neptune--going on a wolf hunt--how a hunt is managed--an exciting chase and a narrow escape chapter xl. beggars at krasnoyarsk--a wealthy city--gold mining on the yenesei--its extent and the value of the mines--how the mining is conducted--explorations, surveys, and the preparation of the ground--wages and treatment of laborers--machines for gold washing--regulations to prevent thefts--mining in frozen earth--antiquity of the mines--the native population--an eastern legend--the adventures of "swan's wing"--visit to lower regions--moral of the story chapter xli. a philosophic companion--traveling with the remains of a mammoth--talking against time--sleighs on wheels--the advantages of "cheek"--a moonlight transfer--keeping the feast days--getting drunk as a religious duty--a slight smash up--a cold night--an abominable road--hunting a mammoth--journey to the arctic circle--natives on the coast--a mammoth's hide and hair--ivory hunting in the frozen north--a perilous adventure--cast away in the arctic ocean--fight with a polar bear--a dangerous situation--frozen to the ice--reaching the shore chapter xlii. a runaway horse--discussion with a driver--a modest breakfast--a convoy of exiles--hotels for the exiles--charity to the unfortunate--their rate of travel--an encounter at night--no whips in the land of horses--russian drivers and their horses--niagara in siberia--eggs by the dizaine--caught in a storm--a beautiful night--arrival at tomsk--an obliging landlord--a crammed sleigh--visiting the governor--description of tomsk--a steamboat line to tumen--schools in siberia chapter xliii. a frozen river--on the road to barnaool--an unpleasant night--posts at the road side--very high wind--a russian bouran--a poor hotel--greeted with american music--the gold mines of the altai mountains--survey of the mining-district--general management of the business--the museum at barnaool--the imperial zavod--reducing the ores--government tax on mines--a strange coincidence chapter xliv. society at barnaool--a native coachman--an asiatic eagle--the kirghese--the original tartars--russian diplomacy among the natives--advance of civilization--railway building in central asia--product of the kirghese country--fairs in siberia--caravans from bokhara--an adventure among the natives--capture of a native prince--a love story and an elopement--a pursuit, fight, and tragic end of the journey chapter xlv. interview with a persian officer--a slow conversation--seven years of captivity--a scientific explorer--relics of past ages--an asiatic dinner--cossack dances--tossed up as a mark of honor--trotting horses in siberia--washing a paper collar--on the baraba steppe--a long-ride--a walking ice statue--traveling by private teams--excitement of a race--how to secure honesty in a public solicitor--prescription for rheumatism chapter xlvi. a monotonous country--advantages of winter travel--fertility of the steppe--rules for the haying season--breakfasting on nothing--a siberian apple--delays in changing horses--universal tea drinking--tartars on the steppe--siberian villages--mode of spinning in russia--an unsuccessful conspiracy--how a revolt was organized--a conspirator flogged to death--the city of tobolsk--the story of elizabeth--the conquest of siberia--yermak and his career chapter xlvii. another snow storm--wolves in sight--unwelcome visitors--going on a wolf chase--an unlucky pig--hunting at night--a hungry pack--wolves in every direction--the pursuers and the pursued--a dangerous turn in the road--a driver lost and devoured--a narrow escape--forest guards against bears and wolves--a courageous horse--the story of david crockett chapter xlviii thermometer very low--inconvenience of a long beard--fur clothing in abundance--natural thermometers--rubbing a freezing nose--a beautiful night on the steppe--siberian twilights--thick coat for horses--the city of tumen--magnificent distances--manufacture of carpets--a lucrative monopoly--arrival at ekaterineburg--christmas festivities --manufactures at ekaterineburg--- the granilnoi fabric--russian iron and where it comes from--the demidoff family--a large piece of malachite--an emperor as an honest miner chapter xlix. among the stone workers--a bewildering collection--visit to a private "fabric"--the mode of stone cutting--crossing the mountains--boundary between europe and asia--standing in two continents at once--entering europe by the back door--in the valley of the kama--touching appeal by a beggar--the great fair at irbit--an improved road--a city of thieves--tanning in russia--evidence of european civilization--perm--pleasures of sleigh riding--the road fever--the emperor nicholas and a courier--a russian sleighing song chapter l. among the votiaks--malmouish--advice to a traveler--dress and habits of the tartars--tartar villages and mosques--a long night--overturned and stopped--arrival at kazan--new year's festivities--russian soldiers on parade--military spirit of the romanoff family--anecdote of the grand duke michel--the conquest of kazan--an evening in a ball-room--enterprise of tartar peddlers--manufactures and schools--a police secret--the police in russia chapter li. leaving kazan--a russian companion--conversation with a phrase book--a sloshy street--steamboats frozen in the ice--navigation of the volga--the cheramess--pity the unfortunate--a road on the ice--merchandise going westward--villages along the volga--a baptism through the ice--religion in russia--toleration and tyranny--the catholics in poland--the old believers--the skoptsi, or mutilators--devotional character of the russian peasantry--diminishing the priestly power--church and state--end of a long sleigh ride--nijne novgorod--at the wrong hotel--historical monuments--entertained by the police chapter lii. starting for moscow--jackdaws and pigeons--at a russian railway station--the group in waiting--the luxurious ride--a french governess and a box of _bon-bons_--cigarettes and tea--halting at vladimir--moscow through the frost--trakteers--the kremlin of moscow--objects of interest--the great bell--the memorial cannon--treasures of the kremlin--wonderful churches of moscow--the kitai gorod--the public market--imperial theatre and foundling hospital--by rail to st. petersburg--encountering an old friend chapter i. it is said that an old sailor looking at the first ocean steamer, exclaimed, "there's an end to seamanship." more correctly he might have predicted the end of the romance of ocean travel. steam abridges time and space to such a degree that the world grows rapidly prosaic. countries once distant and little known are at this day near and familiar. railways on land and steamships on the ocean, will transport us, at frequent and regular intervals, around the entire globe. from new york to san francisco and thence to our antipodes in japan and china, one may travel in defiance of propitious breezes formerly so essential to an ocean voyage. the same untiring power that bears us thither will bring us home again by way of suez and gibraltar to any desired port on the atlantic coast. scarcely more than a hundred days will be required for such a voyage, a dozen changes of conveyance and a land travel of less than a single week. the tour of the world thus performed might be found monotonous. its most salient features beyond the overland journey from the atlantic to the pacific, would be the study of the ocean in breeze or gale or storm, a knowledge of steamship life, and a revelation of the peculiarities of men and women when cribbed, cabined, and confined in a floating prison. next to matrimony there is nothing better than a few months at sea for developing the realities of human character in either sex. i have sometimes fancied that the greek temple over whose door "know thyself" was written, was really the passage office of some black ball clipper line of ancient days. man is generally desirous of the company of his fellow man or woman, but on a long sea voyage he is in danger of having too much of it. he has the alternative of shutting himself in his room and appearing only at meal times, but as solitude has few charms, and cabins are badly ventilated, seclusion is accompanied by _ennui_ and headache in about equal proportions. [illustration: character developed.] wishing to make a journey round the world, i did not look favorably upon the ocean route. the proportions of water and land were much like the relative quantities of sack and bread in falstaff's hotel bill. whether on the atlantic or the pacific, the indian, or the arctic, the appearance of ocean's blue expanse is very much the same. it is water and sky in one place, and sky and water in another. you may vary the monotony by seeing ships or shipping seas, but such occurrences are not peculiar to any one ocean. desiring a reasonable amount of land travel, i selected the route that included asiatic and european russia. my passport properly endorsed at the russian embassy, authorized me to enter the empire by the way of the amoor river. a few days before the time fixed for my departure, i visited a wall street banking house, and asked if i could obtain a letter of credit to be used in foreign travel. "certainly sir," was the response. "will it be available in asia?" "yes, sir. you can use it in china, india, or australia, at your pleasure." "can i use it in irkutsk?" "where, sir?" "in irkutsk." "really, i can't say; what _is_ irkutsk?" "it is the capital of eastern siberia." the person with whom i conversed, changed from gay to grave, and from lively to severe. with calm dignity he remarked, "i am unable to say, if our letters can be used at the place you mention. they are good all over the civilized world, but i don't know anything about irkutsk. never heard of the place before." i bowed myself out of the establishment, with a fresh conviction of the unknown character of the country whither i was bound. i obtained a letter of credit at the opposition shop, but without a guarantee of its availability in northern asia. in a foggy atmosphere on the morning of march , , i rode through muddy streets to the dock of the pacific mail steamship company. there was a large party to see us off, the passengers having about three times their number of friends. there were tears, kisses, embraces, choking sighs, which ne'er might be repeated; blessings and benedictions among the serious many, and gleeful words of farewell among the hilarious few. one party of half a dozen became merry over too much champagne, and when the steward's bell sounded its warning, there was confusion on the subject of identity. one stout gentleman who protested that he _would_ go to sea, was led ashore much against his will. after leaving the dock, i found my cabin room-mate a gaunt, sallow-visaged person, who seemed perfectly at home on a steamer. on my mentioning the subject of sea-sickness, he eyed me curiously and then ventured an opinion. "i see," said he, "you are of bilious temperament and will be very ill. as for myself, i have been a dozen times over the route and am rarely affected by the ship's motion." then he gave me some kind advice touching my conduct when i should feel the symptoms of approaching _mal du mer_. i thanked him and sought the deck. an hour after we passed sandy hook, my new acquaintance succumbed to the evils that afflict landsmen who go down to the sea in ships. without any qualm of stomach or conscience, i returned the advice he had proffered me. i did not suffer a moment from the marine malady during that voyage, or any subsequent one.[a] [footnote a: a few years ago a friend gave me a prescription which he said would prevent sea-sickness. i present it here as he wrote it. "the night before going to sea, i take a blue pill ( to grains) in order to carry the bile from the liver into the stomach. when i rise on the following morning, a dose of citrate of magnesia or some kindred substance finishes my preparation. i take my breakfast and all other meals afterward as if nothing had happened." i have used this prescription in my own case with success, and have known it to benefit others.] the voyage from new york to san francisco has been so often 'done' and is so well watered, that i shall not describe it in detail. most of the passengers on the steamer were old californians and assisted in endeavoring to make the time pass pleasantly. there was plenty of whist-playing, story telling, reading, singing, flirtation, and a very large amount of sleeping. so far as i knew, nobody quarreled or manifested any disposition to be riotous. there was one passenger, a heavy, burly englishman, whose sole occupation was in drinking "arf and arf." he took it on rising, then another drink before breakfast, then another between iris steak and his buttered roll, and so on every half hour until midnight, when he swallowed a double dose and went to bed. he had a large quantity in care of the baggage master, and every day or two he would get up a few dozen pint bottles of pale ale and an equal quantity of porter. he emptied a bottle of each into a pitcher and swallowed the whole as easily as an ordinary man would take down a dose of peppermint. the empty bottles were thrown overboard, and the captain said that if this man were a frequent passenger there would be danger of a reef of bottles in the ocean all the way from new york to aspinwall. i never saw his equal for swallowing malt liquors. to quote from shakspeare, with a slight alteration: "he was a man, take him for half and half, i ne'er shall look upon his like again." [illustration: aspinwall to panama.] we had six hours at aspinwall, a city that could be done in fifteen minutes, but were allowed no time on shore at panama. it was late at night when we left the latter port. the waters were beautifully phosphorescent, and when disturbed by our motion they flashed and glittered like a river of stars. looking over the stern one could half imagine our track a path of fire, and the bay, ruffled by a gentle breeze, a waving sheet of light. the pacific did not belie its name. more than half the way to san francisco we steamed as calmly and with as little motion as upon a narrow lake. sometimes there was no sensation to indicate we were moving at all. [illustration: slightly monotonous.] even varied by glimpses of the mexican coast, the occasional appearance of a whale with its column of water thrown high into the air, and the sportive action of schools of porpoises which is constantly met with, the passage was slightly monotonous. on the twenty-third day from new york we ended the voyage at san francisco. on arriving in california i was surprised at the number of old acquaintances i encountered. when leaving new york i could think of only two or three persons i knew in san francisco, but i met at least a dozen before being on shore twelve hours. through these individuals, i became known to many others, by a rapidity of introduction almost bewildering. californians are among the most genial and hospitable people in america, and there is no part of our republic where a stranger receives a kinder and more cordial greeting. there is no eastern iciness of manner, or dignified indifference at san francisco. residents of the pacific coast have told me that when visiting their old homes they feel as if dropped into a refrigerator. after learning the customs of the occident, one can fully appreciate the sensations of a returned californian. [illustration: montgomery street in holiday dress.] montgomery street, the great avenue of san francisco, is not surpassed any where on the continent in the variety of physiognomy it presents. there are men from all parts of america, and there is no lack of european representatives. china has many delegates, and japan also claims a place. there are merchants of all grades and conditions, and professional and unprofessional men of every variety, with a long array of miscellaneous characters. commerce, mining, agriculture, and manufactures, are all represented. at the wharves there are ships of all nations. a traveler would find little difficulty, if he so willed it, in sailing away to greenland's icy mountains or india's coral strand. the cosmopolitan character of san francisco is the first thing that impresses a visitor. almost from one stand-point he may see the church, the synagogue, and the pagoda. the mosque is by no means impossible in the future. [illustration: san francisco, .] in , san francisco was a village of little importance. the city commenced in ' , and fifteen years later it claimed a population of a hundred and twenty thousand.[b] no one who looks at this city, would suppose it still in its minority. the architecture is substantial and elegant; the hotels vie with those of new york in expense and luxury; the streets present both good and bad pavements and are well gridironed with railways; houses, stores, shops, wharves, all indicate a permanent and prosperous community. there are gas-works and foundries and factories, as in older communities. there are the mission mills, making the warmest blankets in the world, from the wool of the california sheep. there are the fruit and market gardens whose products have a brobdignagian character. there are the immense stores of wine from california vineyards that are already competing with those of france and germany. there are--i may as well stop now, since i cannot tell half the story in the limits of this chapter. [footnote b: i made many notes with a view to publishing two or three chapters upon california. i have relinquished this design, partly on account of the un-siberian character of the golden state, and partly because much that i had written is covered by the excellent book "beyond the mississippi," by albert d. richardson, my friend and associate for several years. the particulars of his death by assassination are familiar to many readers.] [illustration: chinese dinner.] during my stay in california, i visited the principal gold, copper, and quicksilver mines in the state, not omitting the famous or infamous mariposa tract. in company with mr. burlingame and general van valkenburg, our ministers to china and japan, i made an excursion to the yosemite valley, and the big tree grove. with the same gentlemen i went over the then completed portion of the railway which now unites the atlantic with the pacific coast, and attended the banquet given by the chinese merchants of san francisco to the ambassadors on the eve of their departure. a chinese dinner, served with chinese customs;--it was a prelude to the asiatic life toward which my journey led me. i arrived in san francisco on the thirteenth of april and expected to sail for asia within a month. one thing after another delayed us, until we began to fear that we should never get away. for more than six weeks the time of departure was kept a few days ahead and regularly postponed. first, happened the failure of a contractor; next, the non-arrival of a ship; next, the purchase of supplies; and so on through a long list of hindrances. in the beginning i was vexed, but soon learned complacency and gave myself no uneasiness. patience is an admirable quality in mankind, and can be very well practiced when, one is waiting for a ship to go to sea. on the twenty-third of june we were notified to be on board at five o'clock in the evening, and to send heavy baggage before that hour. the vessel which was to receive us, lay two or three hundred yards from the wharf, in order to prevent the possible desertion of the crew. punctual to the hour, i left the hotel and drove to the place of embarkation. my trunk, valise, and sundry boxes had gone in the forenoon, so that my only remaining effects were a satchel, a bundle of newspapers, a dog, and a bouquet. the weight of these combined articles was of little consequence, but i positively declare that i never handled a more inconvenient lot of baggage. while i was descending a perpendicular ladder to a small boat, some one abruptly asked if that lot of baggage had been cleared at the custom house. think of walking through a custom house with my portable property! happily the question did not come from an official. it required at least an hour to get everything in readiness after we were on board. then followed the leave taking of friends who had come to see us off and utter their wishes for a prosperous voyage and safe return. the anchor rose slowly from the muddy bottom; steam was put upon the engines, and the propeller whirling in the water, set us in motion. the gang-way steps were raised and the rail severed our connection with america. it was night as we glided past the hills of san francisco, spangled with a thousand lights, and left them growing fainter in the distance. steaming through the golden gate we were soon on the open pacific commencing a voyage of nearly four thousand miles. we felt the motion of the waves and became fully aware that we were at sea. the shore grew indistinct and then disappeared; the last visible objects being the lights at the entrance of the bay. gradually their rays grew dim, and when daylight came, there were only sky and water around us. "far upon the unknown deep, with the billows circling round where the tireless sea-birds sweep; outward bound. "nothing but a speck we seem, in the waste of waters round, floating, floating like a dream; outward bound." chapter ii. the g.s. wright, on which we were embarked, was a screw steamer of two hundred tons burthen, a sort of pocket edition of the new boats of the cunard line. she carried the flag and the person of colonel charles s. bulkley, engineer in chief of the russo-american telegraph expedition. she could sail or steam at the pleasure of her captain, provided circumstances were favorable. compared with ocean steamers in general, she was a very small affair and displayed a great deal of activity. she could roll or pitch to a disagreeable extent, and continued her motion night and day, i often wished the eight-hour labor system applied to her, but my wishing was of no use. besides colonel bulkley, the party in the cabin consisted of captain patterson, mr. covert, mr. anossoff, and myself. mr. covert was the engineer of the steamer, and amused us at times with accounts of his captivity on the alabama after the destruction of the hatteras. captain patterson was an ancient mariner who had sailed the stormy seas from his boyhood, beginning on a whale ship and working his way from the fore-castle to the quarter deck. mr. anossoff was a russian gentleman who joined us at san francisco, in the capacity of commissioner from his government to the telegraph company. for our quintette there was a cabin six feet by twelve, and each person had a sleeping room to himself. colonel bulkley planned the cabin of the wright, and i shall always consider it a misfortune that the engineer-in-chief was only five feet seven in his boots rather than six feet and over like myself. the cabin roof was high enough for the colonel, but too low for me. under the skylight was the only place below deck where i could stand erect. the sleeping rooms were too short for me, and before i could lie, at full length in my berth, it was necessary to pull away a partition near my head. the space thus gained was taken from a closet containing a few trifles, such as jugs of whiskey, and cans of powder. fortunately no fire reached the combustibles at any time, or this book might not have appeared. [illustration: over six feet.] there was a forward cabin occupied by the chief clerk, the draughtsman, the interpreter, and the artist of the expedition, with the first and second officers of the vessel. sailors, firemen, cook and cabin boys all included, there were forty-five persons on board. everybody in the complement being masculine, we did not have a single flirtation during the voyage. i never sailed on a more active ship than the wright. in ordinary seas, walking was a matter of difficulty, and when the wind freshened to a gale locomotion ceased to be a pastime. frequently i wedged myself into my berth with books and cigar boxes. on the first day out, my dog (for i traveled with a dog) was utterly bewildered, and evidently thought himself where he did not belong. after falling a dozen times upon his side, he succeeded in learning to keep his feet. the carpenter gave him a box for a sleeping room, but the space was so large that, his body did not fill it. on the second day from port he took the bit of carpet that formed his bed and used it as a wedge to keep him in position. from, that time he had no trouble, though he was not fairly on his sea legs for nearly a week. sometimes at dinner our soup poured into our laps and seemed engaged in reconstructing the laws of gravitation. the table furniture was very uneasy, and it was no uncommon occurrence for a tea cup or a tumbler to jump from its proper place and turn a somersault before stopping. we had no severe storm on the voyage, though constantly in expectation of one. in the wright experienced heavy gales with little interruption for twelve days. she lost her chimney with part of her sails, and lay for sixteen hours in the trough of the sea. the waves broke over her without hindrance and drenched every part of the ship. covert gave an amusing account of the breaking of a box of soap one night during the storm. in the morning the cabin, with all it contained, was thoroughly lathered, as if preparing for a colossal shave. half way across the ocean we were followed by sea-birds that, curiously enough, were always thickest at meal times. gulls kept with us the first two days and then disappeared, their places being taken by boobies. the gull is a pretty and graceful bird, somewhat resembling the pigeon in shape and agility. the booby has a little resemblance to the duck, but his bill is sharp pointed and curved like a hawk's. beechey and one or two others speak of encountering the albatross in the north pacific, but their statements are disputed by mariners of the present day. the albatross is peculiar to the south as the gull to the north. gulls and boobies dart into the water when any thing is thrown overboard, and show great dexterity in catching whatever is edible. at night they are said to sleep on the waves, and occasionally we disturbed them at their rest. [illustration: steamship wright in a storm.] [illustration: a sea-sick booby.] one day we caught a booby by means of a hook and line, and found him unable to fly from the deck. it is said that nearly all sea-birds can rise only from the water. we detained our prize long enough to attach a medal to his neck and send him away with our date, location, and name. if kept an hour or more on the deck of a ship these birds become seasick, and manifest their illness just as an able-bodied landsman, exhibits an attack of marine malady. strange they should be so affected when they are all their lives riding over the tossing waves. about thirty miles from san francisco are the farralone islands, a favorite resort of sea-birds. there they assemble in immense numbers, particularly at the commencement of their breeding season. parties go from san francisco to gather sea-birds eggs at these islands, and for some weeks they supply the market. these eggs are largely used in pastry, omelettes, and other things, where their character can be disguised, but they are far inferior to hens' eggs for ordinary uses. there were no islands in any part of our course, and we found but a single shoal marked on the chart. we passed far to the north of the newly discovered brooks island, and kept southward of the aleutian chain. since my return to america i have read the account of a curious discovery on an island of the north pacific. in , the ship canton, belonging to the east india company, sailed from sitka and was supposed to have foundered at sea. nothing was heard of her until , when a portion of her wreck was found upon a coral island of the sybille group. the remaining timbers were in excellent preservation, and the place where the crew had encamped was readily discernible. the frame of the main hatchway had been cast up whole, and a large tree was growing through it. the quarter board bearing the word "canton," lay near it, and revealed the name of the lost ship. no writing or inscription to reveal the fate of her crew, could be found anywhere. [illustration: wreck of the ship canton.] on friday, july thirteenth, we crossed the meridian of ° from london, or half around the world. we dropped a day from our reckoning according to the marine custom, and appeared in our sunday dress on the morrow. had we been sailing eastward, a day would have been added to our calendar. a naval officer once told me that he sailed eastward over this meridian on sunday. on the following morning the chaplain was surprised to receive orders to hold divine service. he obeyed promptly, but could not understand the situation. with a puzzled look he said to an officer-- "this part of the ocean must be better than any other or we would not have sunday so often." sir francis drake, who sailed around the world in the time of queen elizabeth, did not observe this rule of the navigator, and found on reaching england that he had a day too much. in the marquesas islands the early missionaries who came from the indies made the mistake of keeping sunday on saturday. their followers preserve this chronology, while later converts have the correct one. the result is, there are two sabbaths among the christian inhabitants of the cannibal islands. the boy who desired two sundays a week in order to have more resting time, might be accommodated by becoming a marquesas colonist. on the day we crossed this meridian we were three hundred miles from the nearest aleutian islands, and about eight hundred from kamchatka. the boobies continued around us, but were less numerous than a week or ten days earlier. if they had any trouble with their reckoning, i did not ascertain it. a day later we saw three "fur seal" playing happily in the water. we hailed the first and asked his longitude, but he made no reply. i never knew before that the seal ventured so far from land. yet his movements are as carefully governed as those of the sea-birds, and though many days in the open water he never forgets the direct course to his favorite haunts. how marvelous the instinct that guides with unerring certainty over the trackless waters! a few ducks made their appearance and manifested a feeling of nostalgia. mother carey's chickens, little birds resembling swallows, began to flit around us, skimming closely along the waves. there is a fiction among the sailors that nobody ever saw one of these birds alight or found its nest. whoever harms one is certain to bring misfortune upon himself and possibly his companions. a prudent traveler would be careful not to offend this or any other nautical superstition. in case of subsequent danger the sailors might remember his misdeed and leave him to make his own rescue. nearing the asiatic coast we saw many whales. one afternoon, about cigar time, a huge fellow appeared half a mile distant. his blowing sounded like the exhaust of a western steamboat, and sent up a respectable fountain of spray. covert pronounced him a high pressure affair, with horizontal engines and carrying ninety pounds to the inch. after sporting awhile in the misty distance, the whale came near us. it was almost calm and we could see him without glasses. he rose and disappeared at intervals of a minute, and as he moved along he rippled the surface like a subsoil plough on a gigantic scale. after ten or twelve small dives, he threw his tail in air and went down for ten minutes or more. when he reappeared he was two or three hundred yards from his diving place. once he disappeared in this way and came up within ten feet of our bows. had he risen beneath us the shock would have been severe for both ship and whale. after this manoeuvre he went leisurely around us, keeping about a hundred yards away. "he is working his engines on the slow bell," said our engineer, "and keeps his helm hard-a-port." we brought out our rifles to try this new game, though the practice was as much a trial of skill as the traditional 'barn at ten paces.' several shots were fired, but i did not see any thing drop. the sport was amusing to all concerned; at any rate the whale didn't seem to mind it, and we were delighted at the fun. when his survey was finished he braced his helm to starboard, opened his throttle valves and went away to windward. we estimated his length at a hundred and twenty feet, and thought he might register 'a ,' at the proper office. captain patterson called him a 'bow head,' good for a hundred barrels of oil and a large quantity of bone. the colonel proposed engaging him to tow us into port. covert wished his blubber piled in our coal bunkers; the artist sketched him, and the draughtsman thought of putting him on a mercator's projection. for my part i have written the little i know of his life and experiences, but it is very little. i cannot even say where he lodges, whose hats he wears, when his notes fall due, or whether he ever took a cobbler or the whooping cough. of course this incident led to stories concerning whales. captain patterson told about the destruction of the ship essex by a sperm whale thirty or more years ago. the colonel described the whale fishery as practiced by the kamchadales and aleutians. these natives have harpoons with short lines to which they attach bladders or skin bags filled with air. a great many boats surround a whale and stick him with as many harpoons as possible. if successful, they will so encumber him that his strength is not equal to the buoyancy of the bladders, and in this condition he is finished with a lance. a great feast is sure to follow his capture, and every interested native indulges in whale-steak to his stomach's content. [illustration: aleutians catching whales.] the day before we came in sight of land, my dog repeatedly placed his fore feet upon the rail and sniffed the wind blowing from the coast. his inhalations were long and earnest, like those of a tobacco smoking comanche. in her previous voyage the wright carried a mastiff answering to the name of rover. the colonel said that whenever they approached land, though long before it was in sight, rover would put his paws on the bulwarks and direct his nose toward the shore. his demonstrations were invariably accurate, and showed him to possess the instinct of a pilot, whatever his lack of training. he did not enjoy the ocean and was always delighted to see land. in an esquimaux dog was domiciled on the barque golden gate, on her voyage from norton sound to kamchatka. he ran in all parts of the vessel, and made himself agreeable to every one on board. at petropavlovsk a kamchadale dog became a passenger for san francisco. immediately on being loosed he took possession aft and drove the esquimaux forward. during the whole passage he retained his place on the quarter deck and in the cabin. occasionally he went forward for a promenade, but he never allowed the other dog to go abaft the mainmast. the esquimaux endeavored to establish amicable relations, but the kamchadale rejected all friendly overtures. i heard of a dog on one of the honolulu packets that took his turn at duty with the regularity of a sailor, coming on deck when his watch was called and retiring with it to the forecastle. when the sails flapped from any cause and the clouds indicated a sudden shower, the dog gave warning with a bark--on the sea. i ventured to ask my informant if the animal stood the dog watch, but the question did not receive a definite answer. what a wonderful thing is the science of navigation. one measures the sun's height at meridian; looks at a chronometer; consults a book of mystical figures; makes a little slate work like a school-boy's problem; and he knows his position at sea. twelve o'clock, if there be neither fog nor cloud, is the most important hour of a nautical day. a few minutes before noon the captain is on deck with his quadrant. the first officer is similarly provided, as he is supposed to keep a log and practice-book of his own. ambitious students of navigation are sure to appear at that time. on the wright we turned out four instruments, with twice as many hands to hold them. a minute before twelve, _conticuere omnes_. "eight bells." "eight bells, sir." the four instruments are briefly fixed on the sun and the horizon, the readings of the scale are noted, and the quartette descend to the practice of mathematics. a few minutes later we have the result. "latitude ° ' north, longitude ° ' east. distance in last twenty-four hours two hundred forty-six miles." the chart is unrolled, and a few measurements with dividers, rule and pencil, end in the registry of our exact position. unlike the countryman on broadway or a doubting politician the day before election, we do know where we are. the compass, the chronometer, the quadrant; what would be the watery world without them! on the twenty-fourth of july we were just a month at sea. in all that time we had spoken no ship nor had any glimpse of land, unless i except a trifle in a flower pot. the captain made his reckoning at noon, and added to the reading-- "seventy-five miles from the entrance of avatcha bay. we ought to see land before sunset." about four in the afternoon we discovered the coast just where the captain said we should find it. the mountains that serve to guide one toward avatcha bay were exactly in the direction marked on our chart. to all appearances we were not a furlong from our estimated position. how easily may the navigator's art appear like magic to the ignorant and superstitious. the breeze was light, and we stood in very slowly toward the shore. by sunset we could see the full outline of the coast of kamchatka for a distance of fifty or sixty miles. the general coast line formed the concavity of a small arc of a circle. as it was too late to enter before dark, and we did not expect the light would be burning, we furled all our sails and lay to until morning. by daybreak we were under steam, and at five o'clock i came on deck to make my first acquaintance with asia. we were about twenty miles from the shore, and the general appearance of the land reminded me of the rocky mountains from denver or the sierra nevadas from the vicinity of stockton. on the north of the horizon was a group of four or five mountains, while directly in front there were three separate peaks, of which one was volcanic. most of these mountains were conical and sharp, and although it was july, nearly every summit was covered with snow. between and among these high peaks there were many smaller mountains, but no less steep and pointed. as one sees it from, the ocean, kamchatka appears more like a desolate than a habitable country. it requires very good eyesight to discover the entrance of avatcha bay at a distance of eight or ten miles, but the landmarks are of such excellent character that one can approach without hesitation. the passage is more than a mile wide. guarding it on the right is a hill nearly three hundred feet high, and standing almost perpendicular above the water. at the left is a rock of lesser height, terminating a tongue or ridge of land. on the hill is a light-house and signal station with a flag staff. formerly the light was only exhibited when a ship was expected or seen, but in , orders were given for its maintainance every night during the summer months. years ago, on the coast of new hampshire, a man from the interior was appointed light keeper. the day he assumed his position was his first on the sea-shore. very soon there were complaints that his lights did not burn after midnight. on being called to account by his superior, he explained-- "well, i thought all the ships ought to be in by midnight, and i wanted to save the ile." chapter iii. as one leaves the pacific and enters avatcha bay he passes high rocks and cliffs, washed at their base by the waves. the loud-sounding ocean working steadily against the solid walls, has worn caverns and dark passages, haunted by thousands of screaming and fluttering sea-birds. the bay is circular and about twenty miles in diameter; except at the place of entrance it is enclosed with hills and mountains that give it the appearance of a highland lake. all over it there is excellent anchorage for ships of every class, while around its sides are several little harbors, like miniature copies of the bay. at petropavlovsk we hoped to find the russian ship of war, variag, and the barque clara bell, which sailed from san francisco six weeks before us. as we entered the bay, all eyes were turned toward the little harbor. "there is the russian," said three or four voices at once, as the tall masts aird wide spars of a corvette came in sight. "the clara bell, the clara bell--no, it's a brig," was our exclamation at the appearance of a vessel behind the variag. "there's another, a barque certainly,--no, it's a brig, too," uttered the colonel with an emphasis of disgust. evidently his barque was on the sea. rounding the shoal we moved toward the fort, the russian corvette greeting us with "hail columbia" out of compliment to our nationality. we carried the american flag at the quarter and the russian naval ensign at the fore as a courtesy to the ship that awaited us. as we cast anchor just outside the little inner harbor, the russian band continued playing hail columbia, but our engineer played the mischief with the music by letting off steam. as soon as we were at rest a boat from the corvette touched our side, and a subordinate officer announced that his captain would speedily visit us. very soon came the captain of the port or collector of customs, and after him the american merchants residing in the town. our gangway which we closed at san francisco was now opened, and we once more communicated with the world. petropavlovsk (port of saints peter and paul) is situated in lat. ° ' north, long. ° ' east, and is the principal place in kamchatka. it stands on the side of a hill sloping into the northern shore of avatcha bay, or rather into a little harbor opening into the bay. fronting this harbor is a long peninsula that hides the town from all parts of the bay except those near the sea. the harbor is well sheltered from winds and furnishes excellent anchorage. it is divided into an inner and an outer harbor by means of a sand spit that extends from the main land toward the peninsula, leaving an opening about three hundred yards in width. the inner harbor is a neat little basin about a thousand yards in diameter and nearly circular in shape. some of the mountains that serve as landmarks to the approaching mariner, are visible from the town, and others can be seen by climbing the hills in the vicinity. wuluchinski is to the southward and not volcanic, while avatcha and korianski, to the north and east, were smoking with a dignified air, like a pair of turks after a champagne supper. eruptions of these volcanoes occur every few years, and during the most violent ones ashes and stones are thrown to a considerable distance. captain king witnessed an eruption of avatcha in , and says that stones fell at petropavlovsk, twenty-five miles away, and the ashes covered the deck of his ship. mr. pierce, an old resident of kamchatka, gave me a graphic description of an eruption in . it was preceded by an earthquake, which overturned crockery on the tables, and demolished several ovens. for a week or more earthquakes of a less violent character occurred hourly. besides the variag we found in port the russian brig poorga and the prussian brig danzig, the latter having an american captain, crew, hull, masts, and rigging. two old hulks were rotting in the mud, and an unseaworthy schooner lay on the beach with one side turned upward as if in agony. "there be land rats and water rats," according to shakspeare. some of the latter dwelt in this bluff-bowed schooner and peered curiously from the crevices in her sides. [illustration: breach of etiquette.] the majority of our visitors made their calls very brief. after their departure, i went on shore with mr. hunter, an american resident of petropavlovsk. in every house i visited i was pressed to take _petnatzet copla_ (fifteen drops,) the universal name there for something stimulating. the drops might be american whisky, french brandy, dutch gin, or russian vodka. david crockett said a true gentleman is one who turns his back while you pour whisky into your tumbler. the etiquette of kamchatka does not permit the host to count the drops taken by his guest. take a log village in the backwoods of michigan or minnesota, and transport it to a quiet spot by a well sheltered harbor of lilliputian size. cover the roofs of some buildings with iron, shingles or boards from other regions. cover the balance with thatch of long grass, and erect chimneys that just peer above the ridge poles. scatter these buildings on a hillside next the water; arrange three-fourths of them in a single street, and leave the rest to drop wherever they like. of course those in the higgledy-piggledy position must be of the poorest class, but you can make a few exceptions. whitewash the inner walls of half the buildings, and use paper or cloth to hide the nakedness of the other half. this will make a fair counterfeit of petropavlovsk. inside each house place a brick stove or oven, four or five feet square and six feet high. locate this stove to present a side to each of two or three rooms. in each side make an aperture two inches square that can be opened or closed at will. the amount of heat to warm the rooms is regulated by means of the apertures. furnish the houses with plain chairs, tables, and an occasional but rare piano. make the doors very low and the entries narrow. put a picture of a saint in the principal room of every house, and adorn the walls with a few engravings. make a garden near each house, and let a few miscellaneous gardens cling to the hillside and strive to climb it. don't forget to build a church, or you will fail to represent a russian town. petropavlovsk has no vehicle of any kind except a single hand cart. consequently the street is not gashed with wheel ruts. we were invited to 'assist' at a wedding that happened in the evening after our arrival. the ceremony was to begin at five o'clock, and was a double affair, two sisters being the brides. a russian wedding requires a master of ceremonies to look after the affair from beginning to end. i was told it was the custom in siberia (but not in european russia) for this person to pay all expenses of the wedding, including the indispensable dinner and its fixtures. such a position is not to be desired by a man of limited cash, especially if the leading characters are inclined to extravagance. think of being the conductor of a diamond wedding in new york or boston, and then paying the bills! [illustration: unexpected honors.] the steward of the variag told me he was invited to conduct a wedding shortly after his arrival at petropavlovsk. thinking it an honor of which he would hereafter be proud, he accepted the invitation. much to his surprise on the next day he was required to pay the cost of the entertainment. the master of ceremonies of the wedding under consideration was mr. phillipeus, a russian gentleman engaged in the fur trade. the father of the brides was his customer, and doubtless the cost of the wedding was made up in subsequent dealings. as the party emerged from the house and moved toward the church, i could see that phillipeus was the central figure. he had a bride on each arm, and each bride was clinging to her prospective husband. the women were in white and the men in holiday dress. behind the front rank were a dozen or more groomsmen and bridesmaids. behind these were the members of the families and the invited relatives, so that the cortége stretched to a considerable length. each of the groomsmen wore a bow of colored ribbon on his left arm and a smaller one in the button hole. the children of the families--quite a troop of juveniles--brought up the rear. the church is of logs, like the other buildings. it is old, unpainted, and shaped like a cross, lacking one of the arms. the doors are large and clumsy, and the entrance is through a vestibule or hall. the roof had been recently painted a brilliant red at the expense of the variag's officers. on the inside, the church has an antiquated appearance, but presents such an air of solidity as if inviting the earthquakes to come and see it. there were no seats in the building, nor are there seats of any kind in the edifices of the same character in any part of russia. it is the theory of the eastern church that all are equal before god. in his service, no distinction is made; autocrat and subject, noble and peasant, stand or kneel in the same manner while worshipping at his altars. as we entered, we found the wedding party standing in the center of the church; the spectators were grouped nearer the door, the ladies occupying the front. with the thermometer at seventy-two, i found the upright position a fatiguing one, and would have been glad to send for a camp stool. colonel bulkley had undertaken to escort a lady, and as he stood in a conspicuous place, his uniform buttoned to the very chin and the perspiration pouring from his face, the ceremony appeared to have little charm for him. the service began under the direction of two priests, each dressed in a long robe extending to his feet, and wearing a chapeau like a bell-crowned hat without a brim. "the short one," said a friend near me, pointing to a little, round, fat, oily man of god, "will get very drunk when he has the opportunity. watch him to-night and see how he leaves the dinner party." priests of the greek church wear their hair very long, frequently below the shoulders, and parted in the middle, and do not shave the beard. unlike those of the catholic church, they marry and have homes and families, engaging in secular occupations which do not interfere with their religious duties. during the evening after the wedding, i was introduced to "the pope's wife;" and learned that russian priests are called popes. as the only pope then familiar to my thoughts is considered very much a bachelor, i was rather taken aback at this bit of information. the drink-loving priest was head of a goodly sized family, and resided in a comfortable and well furnished dwelling. [illustration: russian marriage.] at the wedding there was much recitation by the priests, reading from the ritual of the church, swinging of censers, singing by the chorus of male voices, chanting and intonation, and responses by the victims. there were frequent signs of the cross with bowing or kneeling. a ring was used, and afterwards two crowns were held over the heads of the bride and bridegroom. the fatigue of holding these crowns was considerable, and required that those who performed the service should be relieved once by other bridesmen. after a time the crowns were placed on the heads they had been held over. wearing these crowns and preceded by the priests, the pair walked three times round the altar in memory of the holy trinity, while a portion of the service was chanted. then the crowns were removed and kissed by each of the marrying pair, the bridegroom first performing the osculation. a cup of water was held by the priest, first to the bridegroom and then to the bride, each of whom drank a small portion. after this the first couple retired to a little chapel and the second passed through the ordeal. the preliminary ceremony occupied about twenty minutes, and the same time was consumed by each couple. there is no divorce in russia, so that the union was one for life till death. before the parties left the church they received congratulations. there was much hand-shaking, and among the women there were decorous kisses. our party regretted that the custom of bride kissing as practiced in america does not prevail in kamchatka. when the affair was ended, the whole cortége returned to the house whence it came, the children carrying pictures of the virgin and saints, and holding lighted candles before them. the employment of lamps and tapers is universal in the russian churches, the little flame being a representation of spiritual existence and a symbol of the continued life of the soul. the russians have adapted this idea so completely that there is no marriage, betrothal, consecration, or burial, in fact no religious ceremony whatever without the use of lamp or taper. in the house of every adherent to the orthodox russian faith there is a picture of the virgin or a saint; sometimes holy pictures are in every room of the house. i have seen them in the cabins of steamboats, and in tents and other temporary structures. no russian enters a dwelling, however humble, without removing his hat, out of respect to the holy pictures, and this custom extends to shops, hotels, in fact to every place where people dwell or transact business. during the earlier part of my travels in russia, i was unaware of this custom, and fear that i sometimes offended it. i have been told that superstitious thieves hang veils or kerchiefs before the picture in rooms where they depredate. enthusiastic lovers occasionally observe the same precaution. only the eyes of the image need be covered, and secrecy may be obtained by turning the picture to the wall. the evening began with a reception and congratulations to the married couples. then we had tea and cakes, and then came the dinner. the party was like the african giant imported in two ships, for it was found impossible to crowd all the guests into one house. tables were set in two houses and in the open yard between them. the russians have a custom of taking a little lunch just before they begin dinner. this lunch is upon a side table in the dining room, and consists of cordial, spirits or bitters, with morsels of herring, caviar, and dried meat or fish. it performs the same office as the american cocktail, but is oftener taken, is more popular and more respectable. after the lunch we sat down to dinner. fish formed the first course and soup the second. then we had roast beef and vegetables, followed by veal cutlets. the feast closed with cake and jelly, and was thoroughly washed down with a dozen kinds of beverages that cheer _and_ inebriate. the fat priest was at table and took his lunch early. his first course was a glass of something liquid, and he drank a dozen times before the soup was brought. early in the dinner i saw him gesturing toward me. "he wants to take a glass with you," said some one at my side. i poured out some wine, and after a little trouble in touching glasses we drank each other's health. not five minutes later he repeated his gestures. to satisfy him i filled a glass with sherry, as there was no champagne handy at the moment, and again went through the clinking process. as my glass was large i put it down after sipping a few drops, but the old fellow objected. draining and inverting his glass, he held it as one might suspend a rat by the tail, and motioned me to do the same. luckily he soon after conceived a fondness for one of the wright's officers, and the twain fell to drinking. the officer, assisted by three men, went on board late at night, and was reported attempting to wash his face in a tar-bucket and dry it with a chain cable. about midnight the priest was taken home on a shutter. [illustration: russian pope at home.] there were toasts in a large number, with a great deal of cheering, drinking, and smoking. about ten o'clock the dinner ended, and arrangements were made for a dance. dancing was not among my accomplishments, and i retired to the ship, satisfied that on my first day in asia i had been treated very kindly--and very often. for two days more the wedding festivities continued, etiquette requiring the parties to visit all who attended the dinner. on the third day the hilarity ceased, and the happy couples were left to enjoy the honeymoon with its promise of matrimonial bliss. may they have many years of it. chapter iv. the name of kamchatka is generally associated with snow-fields, glaciers, frozen mountains, and ice-bound shores. its winters are long and severe; snow falls to a great depth, and ice attains a thickness proportioned to the climate. but the summers, though short, are sufficiently hot to make up for the cold of winter. vegetation is wonderfully rapid, the grasses, trees and plants growing as much in a hundred days as in six months of a new england summer. hardly has the snow disappeared before the trees put forth their buds and blossoms, and the hillsides are in all the verdure of an american spring. men tell me they have seen in a single week the snows disappear, ice break in the streams, the grass spring up, and the trees beginning to bud. nature adapts herself to all her conditions. in the arctic as in the torrid zone she fixes her compensations and makes her laws for the best good of her children. it was midsummer when we reached kamchatka, and the heat was like that of august in richmond or baltimore. the thermometer ranged from sixty-five to eighty. long walks on land were out of question, unless one possessed the power of a salamander. the shore of the bay was the best place for a promenade, and we amused ourselves watching the salmon fishers at work. salmon form the principal food of the kamchadales and their dogs. the fishing season in avatcha bay lasts about six weeks, and at its close the salmon leave the bay and ascend the streams, where they are caught by the interior natives. in the bay they are taken in seines dragged along the shore, and the number of fish caught annually is almost beyond computation. some years ago the fishery failed, and more than half the dogs in kamchatka starved. the following year there was a bountiful supply, which the priests of petropavlovsk commemorated by erecting a cross near the entrance of the harbor. the supply is always larger after a scarcity than in ordinary seasons. the fish designed for preservation are split and dried in the sun. the odor of a fish drying establishment reminded me of the smells in certain quarters of new york in summer, or of cairo, illinois, after an unusual flood has subsided. one of our officers said he counted three hundred and twenty distinct and different smells in walking half a mile. in one of the merchants started the enterprise of curing salmon for the sandwich island market. he told me he paid three roubles, (about three greenback dollars,) a hundred (in number) for the fresh fish, delivered at his establishment. evidently he found the speculation profitable, as he repeated it the following year. [illustration: a scaly bridge.] when the salmon ascend the rivers they furnish food to men and animals. the natives catch them in nets and with spears, while dogs, bears, and wolves use their teeth in fishing. bears are expert in this amusement, and where their game is plenty they eat only the heads and backs. the fish are very abundant in the rivers, and no great skill is required in their capture. men with an air of veracity told me they had seen streams in the interior of kamchatka so filled with salmon that one could cross on them as on a corduroy bridge! the story has a piscatorial sound, but it _may_ be true. house gardening on a limited scale is the principal agriculture of kamchatka. fifty years ago, admiral ricord introduced the cultivation of rye, wheat, and barley with considerable success, but the inhabitants do not take kindly to it. the government brings rye flour from the amoor river and sells it to the people at cost, and in case of distress it issues rations from its magazines. when i asked why there was no culture of grain in kamchatka, they replied: "what is the necessity of it? we can buy it at cost of the government, and need not trouble ourselves about making our own flour." there is not a sawmill on the peninsula. boards and plank are cut by hand or brought from california. i slept two nights in a room ceiled with red-wood and pine from san francisco. on my second evening in asia i passed several hours at the governor's house. the party talked, smoked, and drank tea until midnight, and then closed the entertainment with a substantial supper. an interesting and novel feature of the affair was the russian manner of making tea. the infusion had a better flavor than any i had previously drank. this is due partly to the superior quality of the leaf, and partly to the manner of its preparation. the "samovar" or tea-urn is an indispensable article in a russian household, and is found in nearly every dwelling from the baltic to bering's sea. "samovar" comes from two greek words, meaning 'to boil itself.' the article is nothing but a portable furnace; a brazen urn with a cylinder two or three inches in diameter passing through it from top to bottom. the cylinder being filled with coals, the water in the urn is quickly heated, and remains boiling hot as long as the fire continues. an imperial order abolishing samovars throughout all the russias, would produce more sorrow and indignation than the expulsion of roast beef from the english bill of fare. the number of cups it will contain is the measure of a samovar. tea pots are of porcelain or earthenware. the tea pot is rinsed and warmed with hot water before receiving the dry leaf. boiling water is poured upon the tea, and when the pot is full it is placed on the top of the samovar. there it is kept hot but not boiled, and in five or six minutes the tea is ready. cups and saucers are not employed by the russians, but tumblers are generally used for tea drinking, and in the best houses, where it can be afforded, they are held in silver sockets like those in soda shops. only loaf sugar is used in sweetening tea. when lemons can be had they are employed to give flavor, a thin slice, neither rolled nor pressed, being floated on the surface of the tea. [illustration: russian tea service.] the russians take tea in the morning, after dinner, after lunch, before bed-time, in the evening, at odd intervals in the day or night, and they drink a great deal of it between drinks. in rambling about petropavlovsk i found the hills covered with luxuriant grass, sometimes reaching to my knees. two or three miles inland the grass was waist high on ground covered with snow six weeks before. among the flowers i recognized the violet and larkspur, the former in great abundance. earlier in the summer the hills were literally carpeted with flowers. i could not learn that any skilled botanist had ever visited kamchatka and classified its flora. among the arboreal productions the alder and birch were the most numerous. pine, larch, and spruce grow on the kamchatka river, and the timber from them is brought to avatcha from the mouth of that stream. the commercial value of kamchatka is entirely in its fur trade. the peninsula has no agricultural, manufacturing, or mining interest, and were it not for the animals that lend their skins to keep us warm, the merchant would find no charms in that region. the fur coming from kamchatka was the cause of the russian discovery and conquest. for many years the trade was conducted by individual merchants from siberia. the russian american company attempted to control it early in the present century, and drove many competitors from the fields. it received the most determined opposition from american merchants, and in it abandoned petropavlovsk, its business there being profitless. in i found the fur trade of kamchatka in the control of three merchants: w.h. boardman, of boston, j.w. fluger, of hamburg, and alexander phillipeus, of st. petersburg. all of them had houses in petropavlovsk, and each had from one to half a dozen agencies or branches elsewhere. to judge by appearances, mr. boardman had the lion's share of the trade. this gentleman's father began the northwest traffic sometime in the last century, and left it as an inheritance about . his son continued the business until bought off by the hudson bay company, when he turned his attention to kamchatka. personally he has never visited the pacific ocean. mr. fluger had been only two years in kamchatka, and was doing a miscellaneous business. boardman's agent confined himself to the fur trade, but fluger was up to anything. he salted salmon for market, sent a schooner every year into the arctic ocean for walrus teeth and mammoth tusks, bought furs, sold goods, kept a dog team, was attentive to the ladies, and would have run for congress had it been possible. he had in his store about half a cord of walrus teeth piled against a back entrance like stove wood. phillipeus was a roving blade. he kept an agent at petropavlovsk and came there in person once a year. in february he left st. petersburg for london, whence he took the red sea route to japan. there he chartered a brig to visit kamchatka and land him at ayan, on the ohotsk sea. from ayan he went to yakutsk, and from that place through irkutsk to st. petersburg, where he arrived about three hundred and fifty days after his departure. i met him in the russian capital just as he had completed the sixth journey of this kind and was about to commence the seventh. if he were a jew he should be called the wandering jew. trade is conducted on the barter principle, furs being low and goods high. the risks are great, transport is costly, and money is a long time invested before it returns. the palmy days of the fur trade are over; the product has greatly diminished, and competition has reduced the percentage of profit on the little that remains. there was a time in the memory of man when furs formed the currency of kamchatka. their employment as cash is not unknown at present, although russian money is in general circulation. [illustration: change for a dollar] there is a story of a traveler who paid his hotel bill in a country town in minnesota and received a beaver skin in change. the landlord explained that it was legal tender for a dollar. concealing this novel cash under his coat, the traveler sauntered into a neighboring store. "is it true," he asked carelessly, "that a beaver skin is legal tender for a dollar?" "yes, sir," said the merchant; "anybody will take it." "will you be so kind, then," was the traveler's request, "as to give me change for a dollar bill?" "certainly," answered the merchant, taking the beaver skin and returning four muskrat skins, current at twenty-five cents each. the sable is the principal fur sought by the merchants in kamchatka, or trapped by the natives. the animal is caught in a variety of ways, man's ingenuity being taxed to capture him. the 'yessak,' or 'poll-tax' of the natives is payable in sable fur, at the rate of a skin for every four persons. the governor makes a yearly journey through the peninsula to collect the tax, and is supposed to visit all the villages. the merchants go and do likewise for trading purposes. mr. george s. cushing, who was long the agent of mr. boardman in kamchatka, estimated the product of sable fur at about six thousand skins annually. sometimes it exceeds and sometimes falls below that figure. about a thousand foxes, a few sea otters and silver foxes, and a good many bears, may be added, more for number than value. silver foxes and otters are scarce, while common foxes and bears are of little account. a black fox is worth a great deal of money, but one may find a white crow almost as readily. bears are abundant, but their skins are not articles of export. the beasts are brown or black, and grow to a disagreeable size. bear hunting is an amusement of the country, very pleasant and exciting until the bear turns and becomes the hunter. then there is no fun in it, if he succeeds in his pursuit. a gentleman in kamchatka gave me a bearskin more than six feet long, and declared that it was not unusually large. i am very glad there was no live bear in it when it came into my possession. there is a story of a man in california who followed the track of a grizzly bear a day and a half. he abandoned it because, as he explained, "it was getting a little too fresh." one day, about two years before my visit, a cow suddenly entered petropavlovsk with a live bear on her back. the bear escaped unhurt, leaving the cow pretty well scratched. after that event she preferred to graze in or near the town, and never brought home another bear. [illustration: cow and bear.] kamchatka without dogs would be like hamlet without hamlet. while crossing the pacific my _compagnons du voyage_ made many suggestions touching my first experience in kamchatka. "you won't sleep any the first night in port. the dogs will howl you out of your seven senses." this was the frequent remark of the engineer, corroborated by others. on arriving, we were disappointed to find less than a hundred dogs at petropavlovsk, as the rest of the canines belonging there were spending vacation in the country. about fifteen hundred were owned in the town. very few kamchadale dogs can bark, but they will howl oftener, longer, and louder than any 'yaller dog' that ever went to a cur pound or became sausage meat. the few in petropavlovsk made much of their ability, and were especially vocal at sunset, near their feeding time. occasionally during the night they try their throats and keep up a hailing and answering chorus, calculated to draw a great many oaths from profane strangers. in colonel bulkley carried one of these animals to california. the dog lifted up his voice on the waters very often, and received a great deal of rope's ending in consequence. at san francisco mr. covert took him home, and attempted his domestication. 'norcum,' (for that was the brute's name,) created an enmity between covert and all who lived within hearing distance, and many were the threats of canicide. covert used to rise two or three times every night and argue, with a club, to induce norcum to be silent. while i was at san francisco, mr. mumford, one of the telegraph company's directors, conceived a fondness for the dog, and took him to the occidental hotel. on the first day of his hotel life we tied norcum on the balcony in front of mumford's room, about forty feet from the ground. scarcely had we gone to dinner when he jumped from the balcony and hung by his chain, with his hind feet resting upon a cornice. a howling wilderness is nothing to the noise he made before his rescue, and he gathered and amused a large crowd with his performance. he passed the night in the western basement of the hotel, and spoiled the sleep of a dozen or more persons who lodged near him. when we left san francisco, norcum was residing in the baggage-room at the occidental, under special care of the porters, who employed a great deal of muscle in teaching him that silence was a golden virtue. the kamchadale dogs are of the same breed as those used by the esquimaux, but are said to possess more strength and endurance. the best asiatic dogs are among the koriaks, near penjinsk gulf, the difference being due to climate and the care taken in breeding them. dogs are the sole reliance for winter travel in kamchatka, and every resident considers it his duty to own a team. they are driven in odd numbers, all the way from three to twenty-one. the most intelligent and best trained dog acts as a leader, the others being harnessed in pairs. no reins are used, the voice of the driver being sufficient to guide them. [illustration: a kamchatka team.] dogs are fed almost entirely upon fish. they receive their rations daily at sunset, and it is always desirable that each driver should feed his own team. the day before starting on a journey, the dog receives a half ration only, and he is kept on this slender diet as long as the journey lasts. sometimes when hungry they gnaw their reindeer skin harnesses, and sometimes they do it as a pastime. once formed, the habit is not easy to break. two kinds of sledges are used, one for travel and the other for transporting freight. the former is light and just large enough for one person with a little baggage. the driver sits with his feet hanging over the side, and clings to a bow that rises in front. in one hand he holds an iron-pointed staff, with which he retards the vehicle in descending hills, or brings it to a halt. a traveling sledge weighs about twenty-five pounds, but a freight sledge is much heavier. a good team will travel from forty to sixty miles a day with favorable roads. sometimes a hundred a day may be accomplished, but very rarely. once an express traveled from petropavlovsk to bolcheretsk, a hundred and twenty-five miles, in twenty-three hours, without change of dogs. wolves have an inconvenient fondness for dog meat, and occasionally attack travelers. a gentleman told me that a wolf once sprang from the bushes, seized and dragged away one of his dogs, and did not detain the team three minutes. the dogs are cowardly in their dispositions, and will not fight unless they have large odds in their favor. a pack of them will attack and kill a single strange dog, but would not disturb a number equaling their own. most of the russian settlers buy their dogs from the natives who breed them. dogs trained to harness are worth from ten to forty roubles (dollars) each, according to their quality. leaders bring high prices on account of their superior docility and the labor of training them. epidemics are frequent among dogs and carry off great numbers of them. hydrophobia is a common occurrence. the russian inhabitants of kamchatka are mostly descended from cossacks and exiles. there is a fair but not undue proportion of half breeds, the natural result of marriage between natives and immigrants. there are about four hundred russians at petropavlovsk, and the same number at each of two other points. the aboriginal population is about six thousand, including a few hundred dwellers on the kurile islands. no exiles have been sent to kamchatka since . one old man who had been forty years a colonist was living at avatcha in . he was at liberty to return to europe, but preferred remaining. in occurred the first voyage from kamchatka to a foreign port, and curiously enough, it was performed under the polish flag. a number of exiles, headed by a pole named benyowski, seized a small vessel and put to sea. touching at japan and loo choo to obtain water and provisions, the party reached the portuguese colony of macao in safety. there were no nautical instruments or charts on the ship, and the successful result of the voyage was more accidental than otherwise. close by the harbor of petropavlovsk there is a monument to the memory of the ill-fated and intrepid navigator, la perouse. it bears no inscription, and was evidently built in haste. there is a story that a french ship once arrived in avatcha bay on a voyage of discovery. her captain asked the governor if there was anything to commemorate the visit of la perouse. "certainly," was the reply; "i will show it to you in the morning." during the night the monument was hastily constructed of wood and sheet iron, and fixed in the position to which the governor led his delighted guest. captain clerke, successor to captain cook, of sandwich island memory, died while his ships were in avatcha bay, and was buried at petropavlovsk. a monument that formerly marked his grave has disappeared. captain lund and colonel bulkley arranged to erect a durable memorial in its place. we prepared an inscription in english and russian, and for temporary purposes fixed a small tablet on the designated spot. americans and russians formed the party that listened to the brief tribute which one of our number paid to the memory of the great navigator. in the autumn of , a combined english and french fleet of six ships suffered a severe repulse from several land batteries and the guns of a russian frigate in the harbor. twice beaten off, their commanders determined an assault. they landed a strong force of sailors and marines, that attempted to take the town in the rear, but the kamchadale sharpshooters created a panic, and drove the assailants over a steeply sloping cliff two hundred feet high. [illustration: repulse of the assailants.] naturally the natives are proud of their success in this battle, and mention it to every visitor. the english admiral committed suicide early in the attack. the fleet retired to san francisco, and returned in the following year prepared to capture the town at all hazards, but petropavlovsk had been abandoned by the russians, who retired beyond the hills. an american remained in charge of a trading establishment, and hoisted his national colors over it. the allies burned the government property and destroyed the batteries. there were five or six hundred dogs in town when the fleet entered the bay. their violent howling held the allies aloof a whole day, under the impression that a garrison should be very large to have so many watch-dogs. chapter v. the first project for making discoveries in the ocean east of kamchatka was formed by peter the great. danish, german, and english navigators and _savans_ were sent to the eastern coast of asia to conduct explorations in the desired quarter, but very little was accomplished in the lifetime of the great czar. his successors carried out his plans. in june, , vitus bering, the first navigator of the straits which bear his name, sailed from avatcha bay. passing south of the islands of the aleutian chain, bering steered to the eastward, and at length discovered the american continent. "on the th of july," says steller, the naturalist and historian of the expedition, "we saw a mountain whose height was so great as to be visible at the distance of sixteen dutch miles. the coast of the continent was much broken and indented with bays and harbors." the nearest point of land was named cape st. elias, as it was discovered on st. ellas' day. the high mountain received the name of the saint, and has clung to it ever since. when bering discovered russian america he had no thought it would one day be sold to the united states, and there is nothing to show that he ever corresponded with mr. seward about it. he sailed a short distance along its coast, visited various islands, and then steered for kamchatka. the commander was confined to his cabin by illness, and the crew suffered severely from scurvy. "at one period," says steller, "only ten persons were capable of duty, and they were too weak to furl the sails, so that the ship was left to the mercy of the elements. not only the sick died, but those who pretended to be healthy fainted and fell down dead when relieved from their posts." in this condition the navigators were drifted upon a rocky island, where their ship went to pieces, but not until all had landed. many of the crew died soon after going on shore, but the transfer from the ship appeared to diminish the ravages of the scurvy. commander bering died on the th of december, and was buried in the trench where he lay. the island where he perished bears his name, but his grave is unmarked. an iron monument to his memory was recently erected at petropavlovsk. no human dwellers were found on the island. foxes were numerous and had no fear of the shipwrecked mariners. "we killed many of them," steller adds, "with our hatchets and knives. they annoyed us greatly, and we were unable to keep them from entering our shelters and stealing our clothing and food." the survivors built a small vessel from the wreck, and succeeded in reaching avatcha in the following summer. "we were given up for dead," says the historian, "and the property we left in kamchatka had been appropriated by strangers." the reports concerning the abundance of fur-bearing animals on bering's island and elsewhere, induced private parties to go in search of profit. various expeditions were fitted out in ships of clumsy construction and bad sailing qualities. the timbers were fastened with wooden pins and leathern thongs, and the crevices were caulked with moss. occasionally the cordage was made from reindeer skins, and the sails from the same material. many ships were wrecked, but this did not frighten adventurous merchants. few of these voyages were pushed farther than the aleutian islands. the natives were hostile and killed a fair proportion of the russian explorers. in a few merchants of kamchatka arranged a company with a view to developing commerce in russian america. they equipped several ships, formed a settlement at kodiak and conducted an extensive and profitable business. their agents treated the natives with great cruelty, and so bad was their conduct that the emperor paul revoked their privileges. a new company was formed and chartered in july, , under the title of the russian-american company. it succeeded the old concern, and absorbed it into its organization. the russian-american company had its chief office in st. petersburg, where the directors formed a kind of high court of appeal. it was authorized to explore and place under control of the crown all the territories of north-western america not belonging to any other government. it was required to deal kindly with the natives, and endeavor to convert them to the religion of the empire. it had the administration of the country and a commercial monopoly through its whole extent. all other merchants were to be excluded, no matter what their nationality. at one time so great was the jealousy of the company's officers that no foreign ship was allowed within twenty miles of the coast. the imperial government required that the chief officer of the company should be commissioned in the service of the crown, and detailed to the control of the american territory. his residence was at sitka, to which the principal post was removed from kodiak. in the early history of the company there were many encounters with the natives, the severest battle taking place on the present site of sitka. the natives had a fort there, and were only driven from it after a long and obstinate fight. the first colony that settled at sitka was driven away, and all traces of the russian occupation were destroyed. after a few years of conflict, peace was declared, and trade became prosperous. the company occupied russian america and the aleutian islands, and pushed its traffic to the arctic ocean. it established posts on the kurile islands, in kamchatka, and along the coast of the ohotsk sea. it built churches, employed priests, and was quite successful in converting the natives to christianity. having a monopoly of trade and being the law giver to the natives, the company had things in pretty much its own way. the governor at sitka was the autocrat of all the american russians. there was no appeal from his decision except to the directory at st. petersburg, which was about as accessible as the moon. the natives were reduced to a condition of slavery; they were compelled to devote the best part of their time to the company's labor, and the accounts were so managed as to keep them always in debt. alexander baranoff was the first governor, and continued more than twenty years in power. he managed affairs to his own taste, paying little regard to the wishes of the directory, or even of the emperor, when they conflicted with his own. the russians in the company's employ were _promushleniks_, or adventurers, enlisted in siberia for a term of years. they were soldiers, sailors, hunters, fishermen, or mechanics, according to the needs of the service. their condition was little better than that of the natives they held in subjection. the territory was divided into districts, each under an officer who reported to the chief at sitka. the directory was not troubled so long as profits were large, but the government had suspicions that the company's reign was oppressive. an exploring expedition under admiral krusenstern visited the north pacific in ; the reports of the admiral exposed many abuses and led to changes. a more rigid supervision followed, and produced much good. the government insisted upon appointing officers of integrity and humanity to the chief place at sitka. for many years the company prospered. in it founded the colony of ross, on the coast of california, and a few years later prepared to dispute the right of the spanish governor to occupy that region. the natives were everywhere peaceable, and the dividends satisfied the stockholders. the slaughter of the fur-bearing animals was injudiciously conducted, and led to a great decrease of revenue. the last dividend of importance ( per cent.) was in . after that year misfortune seemed to follow the company. its trade was greatly reduced, partly by the diminished fur production and partly by the illicit traffic of independent vessels along the coast. several ships were lost, one in , with a valuable cargo of furs. in the company's stock, from a nominal value of , had fallen to about , and the company was even obliged to accept an annual subsidy of , roubles from the government. so late as february, , it received a loan of , , roubles from the imperial bank. probably a few years more would have seen the total extinction of the company, and the reversion of all its rights and expenses to the crown. in the fleet of the russian-american company comprised two sea steamers, six ships, two brigs, one schooner, and several smaller craft for coasting and inland service. during the crimean war the company's property was made neutral on condition of its taking no part in hostilities. two of its ships were captured and burned for an alleged violation of neutrality. the company leased a portion of its territory to the hudson bay company, and allowed it to establish hunting and trading posts. a strip of land bordering the ocean was thus in english hands, and gave access to a wide region beyond the coast mountains. not content with what was leased, the hudson bay company deliberately seized a locality on the yukon river when it had no right. it built fort yukon and secured much of the interior trade of russian america. when our secretary of state purchased the emperor's title to the western coast of america, there were various opinions respecting the sagacity of the transaction. no one could say what was the intrinsic value of the country, either actual or prospective. the company never gave much attention to scientific matters. the russian government had made some explorations to ascertain the character and extent of the rivers, mountains, plains, and swamps that form the country. in lieutenant zagoyskin commenced an examination of the country bordering the rivers, and continued it for two years. he traced the course of the kuskokvim and the lower portions of the yukon, or kvikpak. his observations were chiefly confined to the rivers and the country immediately bordering them. he made no discoveries of agricultural or mineral wealth. fish and deer-meat, with berries, formed the food of the natives, while furs were their only articles of trade. [illustration: view of sitka] russian america is of great extent, superficially. it is agreeably diversified with mountains, hills, rolling country, and table land, with a liberal amount of _pereval_ or undulating swamp. in the northern portion there is timber scattered along the rivers and on the mountain slopes; but the trees and their quantity are alike small. in the southern parts there are forests of large trees, that will be valuable when oregon and washington are exhausted. along the coast there are many bays and harbors, easy of access and well sheltered. sitka has a magnificent harbor, never frozen or obstructed with ice. gold is known to exist in several localities. a few placer mines have been opened on the stikeen river, but no one knows the extent of the auriferous beds, in the absence of all 'prospecting' data. i do not believe gold mining will ever be found profitable in russian america. the winters are long and cold, and the snows are deep. the working season is very short, and in many localities on the mainland 'ground ice' is permanent at slight depths. veins of copper have been found near the yukon, but so far none that would pay for developing. building stone is abundant, and so is ice. neither is of much value in commerce. the fur trade was the chief source of the company's revenue. the principal fur-bearing animals are the otter, seal, beaver, marten, mink, fox, and a few others. there is a little trade in walrus teeth, mammoth tusks, whalebone, and oil. the rivers abound in fish, of which large quantities are annually salted and sent to the pacific markets. the fisheries along the coast are valuable and of the same character as those on the banks of newfoundland. agriculture is limited to a few garden vegetables. there are no fruit trees, and no attempts have thus far been made to introduce them. the number of native inhabitants is unknown, as no census has ever been taken. i have heard it estimated all the way from twenty to sixty thousand. the island and sea coast inhabitants are of the esquimaux type, while those of the interior are allied to the north american indians. the explorers for the western union telegraph company found them friendly, but not inclined to labor. some of the natives left their hunting at its busiest season to assist an exploring party in distress. the change of rulers will prove a misfortune to the aboriginal. very wisely the russian american company prohibited intoxicating liquors in all dealings with the natives. the contraband stuff could only be obtained from, independent trading ships, chiefly american. with the opening of the country to our commerce, whisky has been abundant and accessible to everybody. the native population will rapidly diminish, and its decrease will be accompanied by a falling off in the fur product. our government should rigidly continue the prohibitory law as enforced by the russian officials. the sale of his american property was an excellent transaction on the part of the emperor. the country brought no revenue worth the name, and threatened to be an expensive ornament in coming years. it required a sea voyage to reach it, and was upon a continent which russia does not aspire to control. it had no strategic importance in the muscovite policy, and was better out of the empire than in it. the purchase by ourselves may or may not prove a financial success. thus far its developments have not been promising. when the country has been thoroughly examined, it is possible we may find stores of now unknown wealth. politically the acquisition is more important. the possession of a large part of the pacific coast, indented with many bays and harbors, is a matter of moment in view of our national ambition. the american eagle can scream louder since its cage has been enlarged, and if any man attempts to haul down that noble bird, scoop him from the spot. chapter vi. colonel bulkley determined to sail on the th of august for anadyr bay, and ordered the variag to proceed to the amoor by way of ghijiga. early in the morning the corvette changed her moorings and shook a reef from her telescopic smoke stack, and at nine o'clock i bade adieu to the wright and went on board the variag, to which i was welcomed by capt. lund, according to the russian custom, and quartered in the room specially designed for the use of the admiral. the ladies were on the nearest point of the beach, and just before our departure the captain and most of his officers paid them a farewell visit. seizing the tow line of the danzig, which we were to take to sea, we steamed from the harbor into the pacific, followed by the cheers of all on board the wright and the waving of ladies' handkerchiefs till lost in the distance. we desired to pass the fourth, or amphitrite, channel of the kurile islands; the weather was so thick that we could not see a ship's length in any direction, and all night men stood with axes ready to cut the danzig's tow line in case any sudden danger should appear. the fog lifted just as we neared the channel, and we had a clear view on all sides. we cast off the danzig when fairly out of the pacific. during the two days the variag had her in tow we maintained communication by means of a log line and a junk bottle carefully sealed. casting our bottle on the waters, we allowed it to drift along side the danzig, where it could be fished up and opened. answers were returned in the same mail pouch. one response was in liquid form, and savored of gin cocktail, fabricated by the american captain. an hour after dropping the danzig we stopped our engines and prepared to run under sail. the whole crew was called on deck to hoist out the screw, a mass of copper weighing twenty-five thousand pounds, and set in a frame raised or lowered like a window sash. with strong ropes and the power of three hundred men, the frame and its contents were lifted out of water, and the variag became a sailing ship. the russian government is more economical than our own in running ships of war. whenever possible, sails are used instead of steam. a few years ago a russian admiral was transferred from active to retired service because he burned too much coal. the variag was tons burthen, and carried seventeen guns, with a crew of men. she was of the fleet that visited new york in , and her officers recounted many pleasant reminiscences of their stay in the united states. while wintering in japanese waters she was assigned to assist the telegraph enterprise, and reported as soon as possible at petropavlovsk; but the only service demanded was to proceed to the mouth of the amoor by way of ghijiga and ohotsk. the officers of the variag were, a captain, a commander, four lieutenants, six sub-lieutenants, an officer of marines with a cadet, a lieutenant of naval artillery, two sailing masters, two engineers, a surgeon, a paymaster, and a priest. as near as i could ascertain, their pay, including allowances, was about three-fourths that of american officers of similar grades. they received three times as much at sea as when awaiting orders, and this fact led them to seek constant service. in the ward room they read, wrote, talked, smoked, and could play any games of amusement except cards. card playing is strictly forbidden by the russian naval regulations. the sailors on the corvette were robust and powerful fellows, with appetites to frighten a hotel keeper. russian sailors from the interior of the empire are very liable to scurvy. those from finland are the best for long voyages. captain lund once told me the experience of a russian expedition of five ships upon a long cruise. one ship was manned by finlanders, and the others carried sailors from the interior. the finlanders were not attacked with scurvy, but the rest suffered severely. "all the russians," said the captain, "make good sailors, but those from the maritime provinces are the best seamen." early in the voyage it was interesting to see the men at dinner. their table utensils were wooden spoons and tubs, at the rate of ten spoons and one tub to every ten men. a piece of canvas upon the deck received the tub, which generally contained soup. with their hats off, the men dined leisurely and amicably. soup and bread were the staple articles of food. cabbage soup _(schee)_ is the national diet of russia, from the peasant up to the autocrat. several times on the voyage we had soup on the captain's table from the supply prepared for the crew, and i can testify to its excellence. the food of the sailors was carefully inspected before being served. when the soup was ready, the cook took a bowl of it, with a slice of bread and a clean spoon, and delivered the whole to the boatswain. from the boatswain it went to the officer of the deck, and from him to the chief officer, who delivered it to the captain. the captain carefully examined and tasted the soup. if unobjectionable, the bowl was returned to the galley and the dinner served at once. a sailor's ration in the russian navy is more than sufficient for an ordinary appetite and digestion. the grog ration is allowed, and the boatswain's call to liquid refreshment is longer and shriller than for any other duty. at the grog tub the sailor stands with uncovered head while performing the ceremonial abhorred of good templars. as of old in our navy, grog is stopped as a punishment. the drink ration can be entirely commuted and the food ration one half, but not more. many sailors on the variag practiced total abstinence at sea, and as the grog had been purchased in japan at very high cost, the commutation money was considerable. commutation is regulated according to the price of the articles where the ship was last supplied. i was told that the sailor's pay, including ordinary allowances, is about a hundred roubles a year. the sum is not munificent, but probably the muscovite mariner is no more economical than the american one. in his liberty on shore he will get as drunk as the oft quoted 'boiled owl.' _en passant_ i protest against the comparison, as it is a slander upon the owl. at petropavlovsk there was an amusing fraternization between the crews of the variag and the wright. the american sailors were scattered among the russians in the proportion of one to six. neither understood a word of the other's language, and the mouth and eye were obliged to perform the duties of the ear. the flowing bowl was the manual of conversation between the russians and their new friends. the americans attempted to drink against fearful odds, and the result was unfortunate. they returned sadly intoxicated and were unfit for social or nautical duties until the next day. when the variag was at new york in , many of her sailors were entrapped by bounty-brokers. when sailors were missing after liberty on shore, a search through the proper channels revealed them converted into american soldiers, much against their will. usually they were found at new york, but occasionally a man reached the front before he was rescued. some returned to the ship dressed as zouaves, others as artillerists; some in the yellow of cavalry, and so on through our various uniforms. of course they were greatly jeered by their comrades. everyone conversant with russian history knows that peter the great went to england, and afterward to holland, to study ship building. he introduced naval construction from those countries, and brought from holland the men to manage his first ships and teach his subjects the art of navigation. as a result of his enterprise, the principal parts of a russian ship have english or dutch names, some words being changed a little to adapt them to russian pronunciation. the dutch navigators exerted great influence upon the nautical language of russia. to illustrate this captain lund said: "a dutch pilot or captain could come on my ship and his orders in his own language would be understood by my crew. i mean simply the words of command, without explanations. on the other hand, a dutch crew could understand my orders without suspecting they were russian." sitting among the officers in the ward-room, i endeavored to accustom my ear to the sound of the russian language and learn to repeat the most needed phrases. i soon acquired the alphabet, and could count up to any extent; i could spell russian words much as a schoolboy goes through his 'first reader' exercise, but was unable to attain rapid enunciation. i could never get over the impression that the muscovite type had been set up by a drunken printer who couldn't read. the r's looked the wrong way, the l's stood bottom upward, h's became n's, and c's were s's, and lower case and small caps were generally mixed up. the perplexities of russian youth must be greater than ours, as they have thirty-six letters in their alphabet and every one of them must be learned. a brief study of slavonic verbs and nouns convinced me they could never be acquired grammatically in the short time i proposed remaining in russia, and so i gave them up. what a hindrance to a traveler and literal man of the world is this confusion of tongues! there is no human being who can make himself verbally understood everywhere on this little globe. in the russian empire alone there are more than a hundred spoken languages and dialects. the emperor, with all his erudition, has many subjects with whom he is unable to converse. what a misfortune to mankind that the tower of babel was ever commenced! the architect who planned it should receive the execration of all posterity. the apartment i occupied was of goodly size, and contained a large writing desk. my bed was parallel to the keel, and hung so that it could swing when the ship rolled. previous to my embarkation the room was the receptacle of a quantity of chronometers, sextants, charts, and other nautical apparatus. there were seventeen chronometers in one box, and a few others lay around loose. i never had as much time at my command before or since. twice a day an officer came to wind these chronometers and note their variation. there were marine instruments enough in that room to supply a dozen sea-captains, but if the entire lot had been loan'd me, i never could have ascertained the ship's position without asking somebody who knew it. [illustration: plenty of time.] the partition separating me from the ward-room was built after the completion of the ship, and had a way of creaking like a thousand or more squeaky boots in simultaneous action. every time we rolled, each board rubbed against its neighbor and waked the echoes of the cabin. the first time i slept in the room the partition seemed talking in russian, and i distinctly remember that it named a majority of the cities and many noble families throughout the empire. after the first night it was powerless to disturb me. i thought it possible that on leaving the ship i might be in the condition of the woman, whose husband, a fearful snorer, was suddenly called from home. the lady passed several sleepless nights, until she hit upon the expedient of calling a servant with the coffee mill. the vigorous grinding of that household utensil had the effect of a powerful opiate. at eight o'clock every morning, yakuff, (the russian for jacob,) brought me a pitcher of water. when my toilet was over, he appeared with a cup of tea and a few cakes. we conversed in the beginning with a sign language, until i picked up enough russian to ask for tea, water, bread, and other necessary things. at eleven we had breakfast in the captain's cabin, where we discussed steaks, cutlets, tea, and cigars, until nearly noon. dinner at six o'clock was opened with the never failing zakushka, or lunch, the universal preparative of the empire, and closed with tea and cigars. at eight o'clock tea was served again. after it, any one who chose could partake of the cup which cheers and inebriates. [illustration: russian officers at mess.] one morning during my voyage a sailor died. the ocean burial occurred on the following day, and was conducted according to the ceremonial of the eastern church. at the appointed time, i went with captain lund to the place of worship, between decks. the corpse was in a canvas coffin, its head and breast being visible. the coffin, partially covered with the naval ensign, lay on a wide plank about two feet above the deck. at its head the priest was reading the burial service, while near him there was a group of sailors forming the choir. captain lund and several officers stood at the foot of the coffin, each holding a burning taper. the service lasted about twenty minutes, and consisted of reading by the priest and responses by the choir. the censer was repeatedly swung, as in catholic ceremonials, the priest bowing at the same time toward the sacred picture. simultaneously all the candles were extinguished, and their several men advanced and kissed a small cross lying upon the coffin. the priest read a few lines from a written paper and placed it with the cross on the breast of the corpse. the coffin was then closed and carried upon the plank to the stern of the ship. after a final chant by the choir, one end of the plank was lifted, and a single splash in the water showed where the body went down. during the service the flag floated at half mast. it was soon lowered amid appropriate music, which ended the burial at sea. on the third day after leaving the pacific we were shrouded in fog, but with it we had a fine southerly breeze that carried us rapidly on our course. the fog was so dense that we obtained no observation for four days, but so accurate was the sailing master's computation that the difference between our observed and estimated positions was less than two miles. when the fog rose we were fairly in ghijiga bay, a body of water shaped like a narrow v. sharp eyes looking ahead discovered a vessel at anchor, and all hoped it was the clara bell. as we approached she developed into a barque, and gave us comfort, till her flag completed our delight. we threw the lead and began looking for anchorage. nine, eight, seven fathoms were successively reported, and for some minutes the depth remained at six and a half. a mile from the clara bell we dropped anchor, the ship trembling from, stem to stern as the huge chain ran through the hawse-hole. we were at the end of a nine days voyage. chapter vii. we were fifteen miles from the mouth of ghijiga river, the shoals forbidding nearer approach. the tide rises twenty-two feet in ghijiga bay, and to reach the lighthouse and settlement near the river, even with small boats, it is necessary to go with the tide. we learned that major abasa, of the telegraph service, was at the light-house awaiting our arrival, and that we must start before midnight to reach the landing at the proper time. captain lund ordered a huge box filled with provisions and other table ware, and threw in a few bottles of wine as ballast. i was too old a traveler to neglect my blankets and rubber coat, and found that anossoff was as cautious as myself. we prolonged our tea-drinking to ten o'clock and then started. descending the ship's side was no easy matter. it was at least three feet from the bottom of the gang-way ladder to the water, and the boat was dancing on the chopping sea like a pea on a hot shovel. captain lund descended first, followed by anossoff. then i made my effort, and behind me was a grim cossack. just as i reached the lowest step a wave swung the boat from the ship and left me hanging over the water. the cossack, unmindful of things below, was backing steadily toward my head. i could not think of the russian phrase for the occasion and was in some dilemma how to act. i shouted 'look out' with such emphasis that the man understood me and halted with his heavy boots about two inches above my face. clinging to the side ropes and watching my opportunity, i jumped at the right moment and happily hit the boat. the cossack jumped into the lap of a sailor and received a variety of epithets for his carelessness. there are fourteen ways in the russian language of calling a man a ---- fool, and i think all of them were used. [illustration: ascending the bay.] wind and tide opposed each other and tossed us rather uncomfortably. the waves breaking over the bow saturated the cossack and sprinkled some of the sailors. at the stern we managed to protect ourselves, though we caught occasionally a few drops of spray. wrapped in my overcoat and holding a bear-skin on my knees, i studied the summer night in that high northern latitude. at midnight it seemed like day break, and i half imagined we had wrongly calculated the hours and were later than we supposed. between sunset and sunrise the twilight crept along the horizon from occident to orient. further north the inhabitants of the arctic circle were enjoying the light of their long summer day. what a contrast to the bleak night of cold and darkness that stretches with faint glimmerings of dawn through nearly half the year. the shores of the bay were high perpendicular banks, sharply cut like the bluffs at vicksburg. there are several head-lands, but none project far enough to form harbors behind them. the bottom furnishes good anchoring ground, but the bay is quite open to southerly winds. captain lund dropped his chin to his breast and slept soundly. anossoff raised his coat collar and drew in his head like a tortoise returning into his shell, but with all his efforts he did not sleep. i was wakeful and found that time dragged slowly. the light-house had no light and needed none, as the darkness was far from profound. in approaching the mouth of the river we discovered a cluster of buildings, and close at hand two beacons, like crosses, marking the direction of the channel. there was a little surf breaking along the beach as our keel touched the ground. our blankets came dripping from the bottom of the boat, and my satchel had taken water enough to spoil my paper collars and a dozen cigars. my greatest calamity on that night was the sudden and persistent stoppage of my watch. an occurrence of little moment in new york or london was decidedly unpleasant when no trusty watchmaker lived within four thousand miles. major abasa and the ispravnik of ghijiga escorted us from the landing to their quarters, where we soon warmed ourselves with hot tea, and i took opportunity and a couple of bearskins and went to sleep. late in the day we had a dinner of soup, pork and peas, reindeer meat, and berry pudding. the deer's flesh was sweet and tender, with a flavor like that of the american elk. in this part of siberia there are many wide plains (_tundras_) covered with moss and destitute of trees. the blueberry grows there, but is less abundant than the "maroska," a berry that i never saw in america. it is yellow when ripe, has an acid flavor, and resembles the raspberry in shape and size. we ate the maroska in as many forms as it could be prepared, and they told us that it grew in scotland, scandinavia, and northern russia. [illustration: taking the census.] the ordinary residents at the mouth of ghijiga river were the pilot and his family, with three or four cossacks to row boats on the bay. the natives of the vicinity came there occasionally, but none were permanent citizens. the arrival of the variag and clara bell gave unusual activity to the settlement, and the ispravnik might have returned a large population had he imitated the practice of those western towns that take their census during the stay of a railway train or a steamboat. there was once, according to a rural historian, an aspiring politician in tennessee who wanted to go to congress. there were not inhabitants enough in his district to send him, and so he placed a couple of his friends at the railway station to take the names of passengers as they visited the refreshment saloon and entered or left the depot. in a short time the requisite constituency was secured and sworn to, so that the aspirant for official honor accomplished the wish of his heart. [illustration: light-house at ghijiga.] the light-house on the promontory is a hexagonal edifice ten feet in diameter and height; it is of logs and has a flat top covered with dirt, whereon to kindle a fire. the interior is entered by a low door, and i found it floored with two sticks of wood and a mud puddle. one could reach the top by climbing a sloping pole notched like an american fence-post. the pilot resides at the foot of the bluff, and is expected to visit this beacon daily. a cannon, old enough to have served at pultawa, stands near the light-house, in a condition of utter helplessness. the houses were furnished quite primitively. beds were of bearskins and blankets, and the floor was the only bedstead. there were rustic tables of hewn boards, and benches without backs. in a storehouse there was a fairbanks' scale, somewhat worn and rusty, and i found a tuneless melodeon from boston and a coffee mill from new york. the town of ghijiga is on the bank of the river, twelve miles from the light-house, and the route thither was overland or by water, at one's choice. overland there was a footpath crossing a hill and a wet tundra. the journey by water was upon the ghijiga river; five versts of rowing and thirteen of towing by men or dogs. as it was impossible to hire a horse, i repudiated the overland route altogether, and tried a brief journey on the river, but could not reach the town and return in time for certain engagements. ghijiga has a population of less than three hundred, and closely resembles petropavlovsk. two or three foreign merchants go there annually with goods to exchange for furs which the russian traders gather. the inhabitants are russians or half breeds, the former predominating. the half breeds are said to possess all the vices of both races with the virtues of neither. mr. bilzukavitch, the ispravnik of ghijiga, was a native of poland, and governed seventy-two thousand square miles of territory, with a population of sixteen hundred taxed males. his military force comprised thirty cossacks with five muskets, of which three were unserviceable. the native tribes included in the district of ghijiga are the koriaks and chukchees; the koriaks readily pay tribute and acknowledge the russian authority, but the chukchees are not yet fairly subdued. they were long in open war with the russians, and though peace is now established, many of them are not tributary. those who visit the russian towns are compelled to pay tribute and become imperial subjects before selling or purchasing goods. the ispravnik is an artist of unusual merit, as evinced by an album of his sketches illustrating life in northern siberia. some of them appeared like steel engravings, and testified to the skill and patience of the man who made them. on my second day at ghijiga i tried a river journey with a dog team. the bottom of the boat was on the 'dug-out' principle, and the sides were two planks meeting in sharp and high points at the ends. i had a seat on some bearskins on the plank flooring, and found it reasonably comfortable. one man steered the boat, another in the bow managed the towline, and a third, who walked on land, drove the dogs. we had seven canines--three pairs and a leader--pulling upon a deerskin towline fastened to a thole-pin. it was the duty of the man in the bow to regulate the towline according to circumstances. the dogs were unaccustomed to their driver, and balky in consequence. two of them refused to pull when we started, and remained obstinate until persuaded with sticks. the driver used neither reins nor whip, but liberally employed the drift wood along the banks. clubs were trumps in that day's driving. the team was turned to the left by a guttural sound that no paper and ink can describe, and to the right by a rapid repetition of the word 'ca.' [illustration: towed by dogs] occasionally the path changed from one bank to the opposite. at such times we seated the dogs in the bow of the boat and ferried them over the river. in the boat they were generally quiet, though inclined to bite each other's legs at convenient opportunities. one muddy dog shook himself over me; i forgave him, but his driver did not, the innocent brute receiving several blows for making his toilet in presence of passengers. the koriaks have a habit of sacrificing dogs to obtain a fortunate fishery. the animals are hung on limbs of trees, and the sacrifice always includes the best. major abasa urged them to give only their worthless dogs to the evil spirit, assuring them the fishery would result just as well, and they promised to try the experiment. dogs were scarce and expensive in consequence of a recent canine epidemic. only a day before our arrival three dogs developed hydrophobia and were killed. the salmon fishery was very poor in , and the inhabitants of the ghijiga district were relying upon catching seals in the autumn. at kolymsk, on the kolyma river, the authorities require every man to catch one-tenth more than enough for his own use. this surplus is placed in a public storehouse and issued in case of famine. it is the rule to keep a three years supply always at hand. several seasons of scarcity led to the adoption of the plan. we were frequently visited by the natives from a koriak village near the light-house. their dress was of deer skin, and comprised a kotlanka, or frock, pantaloons, and boots, or leggings. winter garments are of deer skin with its hair remaining, but summer clothing is of dressed skins alone. these natives appear below the ordinary stature, and their legs seemed to me very small. ethnologists are divided concerning the origin of the koriaks, some assigning them to the mongol race and others to the esquimaux. the koriaks express no opinion on the disputed point, and have none. both sexes dress alike, and wear ornaments of beads in their ears. they have a curious custom of shaving the back part of the head, _a la moine_. fashion is as arbitrary among the koriaks as in paris or new york, and dictates the cut of garments and the style of hair dressing with unyielding severity. like savages everywhere, these natives manifest a fondness for civilized attire. a party visited the clara bell and obtained some american clothing. one man sported a cast-off suit, in which he appeared as uneasy as an organ grinder's monkey in a new coat. another wore a sailor's jacket from the variag, and sported the number ' ' with manifest pride. a third had a fatigue cap, bearing the letters 'u.s.' in heavy brass, the rest of his costume being thoroughly aboriginal. one old fellow had converted an empty meat can into a hat without removing the printed label "stewed beef." i gave him a pair of dilapidated gloves, which he donned at once. the koriaks are of two kinds, wandering and settled. the wanderers have great numbers of reindeer, and lead a migratory life in finding pasturage for their herds. the settled koriaks are those who have lost their deer and been forced to locate where they can subsist by fishing. the former are kind and hospitable; the latter generally the reverse. poverty has made them selfish, as it has made many a white man. all are honest to a degree unusual among savages. when major abasa traveled among them in the winter of , they sometimes refused compensation for their services, and were scrupulously careful to guard the property of their guests. once the major purposely left some trivial articles. the next day a native brought them forward, and was greatly astonished when pay was offered for his trouble. "this is your property," was the response; "we could not keep it in our tents, and it was our duty to bring it to you." the wandering koriaks estimate property in deer as our indians count in horses. it is only among the thousands that wealth is eminently respectable. some koriaks own ten or twelve thousand deer, and one fortunate native is the possessor of forty thousand in his own name, (o-gik-a-mu-tik.) though the wealthiest of his tribe, he does not drive fast horses, and never aspired to a seat in congress. how much he has missed of real life! reindeer form the circulating medium, and all values are expressed in this four-footed currency. the animal supplies nearly every want. they eat his meat and pick his bones, and not only devour the meat, but the stomach, entrails, and their contents. when they stew the mass of meat and half digested moss, the stench is disgusting. captain kennan told me that when he arrived among the koriaks the peculiar odor made him ill, and he slept out of doors with the thermometer at - ° rather than enter a tent where cooking was in progress. [illustration: koriak yourt.] the koriaks build their summer dwellings of light poles covered with skin, or bark. their winter habitations are of logs covered with earth and partly sunk into the ground, the crevices being filled with moss. the summer dwellings are called _balagans_, and the winter ones _yourts_, but the latter name is generally applied to both. a winter yourt has a hole in the top, which serves for both chimney and door. the ladder for the descent is a hewn stick, with holes for one's feet, and leans directly over the fire. whatever the outside temperature, the yourt is suffocatingly hot within, and no fresh air can enter except through the top. when a large fire is burning and a thick volume of smoke pours out, the descent is very disagreeable. russians and other white men, even after long practice, never attempt it without a shudder. the yourt is generally circular or oblong, and its size is proportioned to the family of the owner. the fire is in the center, and the sleeping apartments are ranged around the walls. these apartments, called 'polags,' are about six feet square and four or five high, partitioned with light poles and skin curtains. owing to the high temperature the natives sleep entirely naked. sometimes in the coldest nights their clothing is hung out of doors to rid it of certain parasites not unknown in civilization. benumbed with, frost, the insects lose their hold and fall into the snow, to the great comfort of those who nursed and fed them. the body of a koriak, considered as a microcosm, is remarkably well inhabited. captain kennan gave me a graphic description of the koriak marriage ceremonial. the lover must labor for the loved one's father, not less than one nor more than five years. no courtship is allowed during this period, and the young man must run the risk of his love being returned. the term of service is fixed by agreement between the stern parent and the youth. at an appointed day the family and friends are assembled in a yourt, the old women being bridesmaids. the bride is placed in one polag and the bridegroom in the next. at a given signal a race commences, the bride leading. each must enter every polag, and the man must catch his prize in a specified way before she makes the circuit of the yourt. the bridesmaids, armed with long switches, offer every assistance to the woman and equal hindrance to the man. for her they lift the curtains of the polags, but hold them down against her pursuer and pound him with their switches. unless she stops voluntarily it is utterly impossible to overtake her within the circuit. if she is not overtaken the engagement is 'off,' and the man must retire or serve again for the privilege of another love chase. generally the pursuit is successful; the lover doubtless knows the temper of the lovee before becoming her father's apprentice. but coquettes are not unknown in koriakdom, and the pursuing youths are sometimes left in the lurch--or the polags. should the lover overtake the maiden, before making the circuit, both remain seven days and nights in a polag. their food is given them under the curtain during that period, and they cannot emerge for any purpose whatever. the bridesmaids then perform a brief but touching ceremonial, and the twain are pronounced one flesh. northeast of ghijiga is the country of the chukchees, a people formerly hostile to the koriaks. the feuds are not entirely settled, but the ill feeling has diminished and both parties maintain a dignified reserve. the chukchees are hunters and traders, and have large herds of reindeer but very few dogs. they are the most warlike of these northern races, and long held the russians at bay. they go far from shore with their _baydaras_, or seal skin boats, visiting islands along the coast, and frequently crossing to north america. their voyages are of a mercantile character, the chukchee buying at the russian towns and selling his goods among the esquimaux. at ghijiga i made a short voyage in a baydara. the frame appeared very fragile, and the seal skin covering displayed several leaks. i was unwilling to risk myself twenty feet from land, but after putting me ashore the koriak boatman pulled fearlessly into the bay. the chukchee trader has a crew of his own race to paddle his light canoe. occasionally the baydaras are caught in storms and must be lightened. i have the authority of major abasa that in such case the merchant keeps his cargo and throws overboard his crew. goods and furs are costly, but men are cheap and easily replaced. the crew is entirely reconciled to the state of affairs, and drowns itself with that resignation known only to pagans. "but," i asked, "do not the men object to this kind of jettison?" "i believe not," was the major's reply; "they are only discharging their duty to their employer. they go over the side just as they would step from an over-laden sledge." [illustration: discharging a deck load.] i next inquired if the trader did not first throw out the men to whom he was most indebted, but could not obtain information on that point. it is probable that with an eye to business he disposes promptly of his creditors and keeps debtors to the last. what a magnificent system of squaring accounts! the chukchees have mingled much with whalemen along anadyr bay and the arctic ocean, and readily adopt the white man's vices. they drink whisky without fear, and will get very drunk if permitted. when captain macrae's telegraph party landed at the mouth of the anadyr the natives supposed the provision barrels were full of whisky, and became very importunate for something to drink. the captain made a mixture of red pepper and vinegar, which he palmed off as the desired article. all were pleased with it, and the hotter it was the better. one native complained that its great heat burned the skin from his throat before he could swallow enough to secure intoxication. the fame of this whisky was wide-spread. captain kennan said he heard at anadyrsk and elsewhere of its wonderful strength, and was greatly amused when he arrived at macrae's and heard the whole story. many of these natives have learned english from whalemen and speak enough to be understood. gov. bilzukavitch visited anadyrsk in the spring of , and met there a chukchee chief. neither spoke the other's language, and so the governor called his koriak servant. the same dilemma occurred, as each was ignorant of the other's vernacular. there was an awkward pause until it was discovered that both koriak and chukchee could speak english. business then proceeded without difficulty. [illustration: reindeer ride.] among the chukchees a deer can be purchased for a pound of tobacco, but the price increases as one travels southward. with the koriaks it is four or five roubles, at ohotsk ten or fifteen, and on the banks of the amoor not often less than fifty. south of the amoor the reindeer is not a native. i am inclined to discredit marry stories of the wonderful swiftness of this animal. he sometimes performs remarkable journeys, but ordinarily he is outstripped by a good dog team. reindeer have the advantage of finding their food under the snow, while provision for dogs must be carried on the sledge. when turned out in winter, the deer digs beneath the snow and seeks his food without troubling his master. the american sailors when they have liberty on shore in these northern regions, invariably indulge in reindeer rides, to the disgust of the animals and their owners. the deer generally comes to a halt in the first twenty yards, and nothing less than building a fire beneath him can move him from his tracks. there is a peculiar mushroom in northeastern siberia spotted like a leopard and surmounted with a small hood. it grows in other parts of russia, where it is poisonous, but among the koriaks it is simply intoxicating. when one finds a mushroom of this kind he can sell it for three or four reindeer. so powerful is this fungus that the fortunate native who eats it remains drunk for several days. by a process of transmission which i will not describe, as it might offend fastidious persons, half a dozen individuals may successively enjoy the effects of a single mushroom, each of them in a less degree than his predecessor. like savages every where, these northern natives are greatly pleased with pictures and study them attentively. i heard that several copies of american illustrated papers were circulating among the chukchees, who handled them with great care. there is a superstitious reverence for pictures mingled with childlike curiosity. people possessing no written language find the pictorial representations of the civilized world the nearest approach to savage hieroglyphics. the telegraph was an object of great wonder to all the natives. in ghijiga a few hundred yards of wire were put up in the spring of . crowds gathered to see the curiosity, and many messages were exchanged to prove that the machine really spoke. at anadyrsk captain kennan arranged a small battery and held in his pocket the key that controlled the circuit. then the marvel began. the instrument told when persons entered or left the room, when any thing was taken from the table without permission, or any impropriety committed. even covered with a piece of deer skin, it could see distinctly. with the human tendency to ascribe to the devil anything not understood, these natives looked upon the telegraph as supernatural. as it showed no desire to harm them, they exhibited no fear but abundance of respect. the chukchees and koriaks are creditable workers in metals and ivory. i saw animal representations rudely but well cut in ivory, and spear-heads that would do credit to any blacksmith. their hunting knives, made from hoop-iron, are well fashioned, and some of the handles are tastefully inlaid with copper, brass, and silver. in trimming their garments they are very skillful, and cut bits of deerskin into various fantastic shapes. at ghijiga i bought a kotlanka, intending to wear it in my winter travel. its sleeves were purposely very long, and the hood had a wide fringe of dogskin to shield the face. i could never put the thing on with ease, and ultimately sold it to a curiosity hunter. gloves and mittens, lined with squirrel skin, are made at ghijiga, and worn in all the region within a thousand miles. a great hindrance to winter travel in northeastern siberia is the prevalence of _poorgas_, or snow storms with wind. on the bleak tundras where there is no shelter, the poorgas sweep with pitiless severity. some last but a few hours, with the thermometer ten or twenty degrees below zero. sometimes the wind takes up whole masses of snow and forms drifts several feet deep in a few moments. travelers, dogs, and sledges are frequently buried out of sight, and remain in the snow till the storm is over. dogs begin to howl at the approach of a poorga, long before men can see any indication of it. they display a tendency to burrow in the snow if the wind is cold and violent. poorgas do not occur at regular intervals, but are most prevalent in february and march. a few years ago a party of koriaks crossing the great tundra north of kamchatka encountered a severe storm. it was of unusual violence, and soon compelled a halt. dogs and men burrowed into the snow to wait the end of the gale. unfortunately they halted in a wide hollow that, unperceived by the party, filled with a deep drift. the snow contains so much air that it is not difficult to breathe in it at a considerable depth, and the accumulation of a few feet is not alarming. hour after hour passed, and the place grew darker, till two men of the party thought it well to look outside. digging to the surface, the depth proved much greater than expected. quite exhausted with their labor, they gained the open air, and found the storm had not ceased. alarmed for their companions they tried to reach them, but the hole where they ascended was completely filled. the snow drifted rapidly, and they were obliged to change their position often to keep near the surface. when the poorga ended they estimated it had left fifty feet of snow in that spot. again endeavoring to rescue their companions, and in their weak condition finding it impossible, they sought the nearest camp. in the following summer the remains of men and dogs were found where the melting snow left them. they had huddled close together, and probably perished from suffocation. [illustration: tail piece, reindeer] chapter viii. we remained four days at ghijiga and then sailed for ohotsk. for two days we steamed to get well out of the bay, and then stopped the engines aird depended upon canvas. a boy who once offered a dog for sale was asked the breed of the pup. "he _was_ a pointer," replied the youth; "but father cut off his ears and tail last week and made a bull-dog of him." lowering the chimney and hoisting the screw, the yariag became a sailing ship, though her steaming propensities remained, just as the artificial bull-dog undoubtedly retained the pointer instinct. the ship had an advantage over the animal in her ability to resume her old character at pleasure. on the fourth day, during a calm, we were surrounded by sea-gulls like those near san francisco. we made deep sea soundings and obtained specimens of the bottom from depths of two or three hundred fathoms. near the entrance of ghijiga bay we brought up coral from eighty fathoms of water, and refuted the theory that coral grows only in the tropics and at a depth of less than two hundred feet. the specimens were both white and red, resembling the moss-like sprigs often seen in museums. the temperature of the water was ° fahrenheit. captain lund told me coral had been found in the ohotsk sea in latitude ° in a bed of considerable extent. every day when calm we made soundings, which were carefully recorded for the use of russian chart makers. once we found that the temperature of the bottom at a depth of two hundred fathoms, was at the freezing point of water. the doctor proposed that a bottle of champagne should be cooled in the marine refrigerator. the bottle was attached to the lead and thrown overboard. "i send champagne to neptune," said the doctor. "he drink him and he be happy." when the lead returned to the surface it came alone. neptune drank the champagne and retained the bottle as a souvenir. one day the sailors caught a gull and painted it red. when the bird was released he greatly alarmed his companions, and as long as we could see them, they shunned his society. at least eighty miles from land we had a dozen sparrows around us at once. a small hawk seized one of these birds and seated himself on a spar for the purpose of breakfasting. a fowling piece brought him to the deck, where we examined and pronounced him of the genus _falco_, species _nisus_, or in plain english, a sparrow hawk. during the day we saw three varieties of small birds, one of them resembling the american robin. the sailors caught two in their hands, and released them without injury. approaching ohotsk a fog bank shut out the land for an hour or two, and when it lifted we discovered the harbor. a small sand-bar intervened between the ocean and the town, but did not intercept the view. as at petropavlovsk, the church was the most prominent object and formed an excellent landmark. with my glass i surveyed the line of coast where the surf was breaking, but was long unable to discover an entering place. the ohota river is the only harbor, and entirely inaccessible to a ship like the variag. descending the ship's side after we anchored, i jumped when the boat was falling and went down five or six feet before alighting. both hands were blistered as the gang-way ropes passed through them. keeping the beacons carefully in line, we rolled over the bar on the top of a high wave, and then followed the river channel to the landing. many years ago ohotsk was the most important russian port on the waters leading to the pacific. supplies for kamchatka and russian america were brought overland from yakutsk and shipped to petropavlovsk, sitka, and other points under russian control. many ships for the pacific ocean and ohotsk sea were built there. i was shown the spot where bering's vessel was constructed, with its cordage and extra sails of deerskin, and its caulking of moss. billings' expedition in a ship called russia's glory, was organized here for an exploration of the arctic ocean. at one time the government had foundries and workshops at ohotsk. the shallowness of water on the bar was a great disadvantage, as ships drawing more than twelve feet were unable to enter. twenty years ago the government abandoned ohotsk for ayan, and when the amoor was opened it gave up the latter place. the population, formerly exceeding two thousand, is now less than two hundred. we landed on a gravelly beach, where we were met by a crowd of cossacks and "lamuti." the almond-shaped eyes and high cheek bones of the latter betray their mongolian origin. as i walked among them each hailed me with _sdrastveteh_, the russian for 'good-morning.' i endeavored to reply with the same word, but my pronunciation was far from accurate. near these natives there were several yakuts and tunguze, with physiognomies unlike the others. the russian empire contains more races of men than any rival government, and we frequently find the population of a single locality made up from two or more branches of the human family. in this little town with not more than ten or twelve dozens of inhabitants, there were representatives of the slavonic, the tartar, and the mongolian races. we found captain mahood, of the telegraph service, in a quiet residence, where he had passed the summer in comparitive idleness. he had devoted himself to exploring the country around ohotsk and studying the russian language. "we don't expect to starve at present," said the captain; "providence sends us fish, the emperor sends us flour, and the merchants furnish tea and sugar. we have lived so long on a simple bill of fare that we are almost unfitted for any other." we had a lunch of dried fish, tea, whisky, and cigars, and soon after went to take tea at a house where most of the variag's officers were assembled. the house was the property of three brothers, who conducted the entire commerce of ohotsk. the floor of the room where we were feasted was of hewn plank, fastened with enormous nails, and appeared able to resist anything short of an earthquake. the windows were double to keep out the winter's cold, but on that occasion they displayed a profusion of flower pots. the walls were papered, and many pictures were hung upon them. every part of the room was scrupulously clean. [illustration: wagon ride with dogs.] three ladies were seated on a sofa, and a fourth occupied a chair near them. the three were the wives of the merchant brothers, and the fourth a visiting friend. one with black eyes and hair was dressed tastefully and even elaborately. the eldest, who acted as hostess, was in black, and her case in receiving visitors would have done credit to a society dame in st. petersburg. by way of commencement we had tea and _nalifka_, the latter a kind of currant wine of local manufacture and very well flavored. they gave us corned beef and bread, each person taking his plate upon his knee as at an american pic-nic, and after two or three courses of edibles we had coffee and cigarettes, the latter from a manufactory at yakutsk. according to russian etiquette each of us thanked the hostess for her courtesy. out in the broad street there were many dogs lying idle in the sunshine or biting each other. a small wagon with a team of nine dogs carried a quantity of tea and sugar from the variag's boats to a warehouse. when the work was finished i took a ride on the wagon, and was carried at good speed. i enjoyed the excursion until the vehicle upset and left me sprawling on the gravel with two or three bruises and a prejudice against that kind of traveling. by the time i gained my feet the dogs were disappearing in the distance, and fairly running away from the driver. possibly they are running yet. an old weather beaten church and equally old barracks are near each other, an appropriate arrangement in a country where church and state are united. the military garrison includes thirty cossacks, who are under the orders of the ispravnik. they row the pilot boat when needed, travel on courier or other service, guard the warehouses, and when not wanted by government labor and get drunk for themselves. the governor was a native of poland, and it struck me as a curious fact that the ispravniks of kamchatka, ghijiga, and ohotsk were poles. cows and dogs are the only stock maintained at ohotsk. the former live on grass in summer, and on hay and fish in whiter. though repeatedly told that cows and horses in northeastern siberia would eat dried fish with avidity, i was inclined to skepticism. captain mahood told me he had seen them eating fish in winter and appearing to thrive on it. what was more singular, he had seen a cow eating fresh salmon in summer when the hills were covered with grass. there is a story that cuvier in a fit of illness, once imagined his satanic majesty standing before him. "ah!" said the great naturalist, "horns, hoofs; graniverous; needn't fear him." i wonder if cuvier knew the taste of the cows at ohotsk? no ship had visited ohotsk for nearly a year before our arrival, though half a dozen whalers had passed in sight. a steamer goes annually from the amoor with a supply of flour and salt on government account. the mail comes once a year, so that the postmaster has very little to do for three hundred and sixty-four days. sometimes the mail misses, and then people must wait another twelvemonth for their letters. what a nice residence it would be for a young man whose sweetheart at a distance writes him every day. he would get three hundred and sixty-five letters at once, and in the case of a missing mail, seven hundred and thirty of them. [illustration: yearly mail.] bears are quite numerous around ohotsk, and their dispositions do not savor of gentleness. only a few days before our visit a native was partly devoured within two miles of town. many of the dogs are shrewd enough to catch their own fish, but have not learned how to cure them for winter use. when at ohotsk i went to the bank of the river as the tide was coming in, and watched the dogs at their work. wading on the sand bars and mud flats till the water was almost over their backs, they stood like statues for several minutes. waiting till a salmon was fairly within reach, a dog would snap at him with such accuracy of aim that he rarely missed. i kept my eye on a shaggy brute that stood with little more than his head out of water. his eyes were in a fixed position, and for twelve or fifteen minutes he did not move a muscle. suddenly his head disappeared, and after a brief struggle he came to shore with a ten-pound salmon in his jaws. none of the cows are skilled in salmon catching. [illustration: dogs fishing.] two or three years ago a mail carrier from ayan to yakutsk was visited by a bear during a night halt. the mail bag was lying by a tree a few steps from the cossack, and near the bank of a brook. the bear seized and opened the pouch, regardless of the government seal on the outside. after turning the letter package several times in his paws, he tossed it into the brook. the cossack discharged his pistol to frighten the bear, and then fished the letters from the water. it is proper to say the package was addressed to an officer somewhat famous for his bear-hunting proclivities. when we left ohotsk at the close of day, we took captain mahood and the governor to dine with us, and when our guests departed we hoisted anchor and steamed away. captain lund burned a blue light as a farewell signal, and we could see an answering fire on shore. our course lay directly southward, and when our light was extinguished we were barely visible through the distance and gloom. "but true to our course, though our shadow grow dark, we'll trim our broad sail as before; and stand by the rudder that governs the bark, nor ask how we look from the shore." chapter ix. on the ohotsk sea we had calms with light winds, and made very slow progress. one day while the men were exercising at the guns, the look out reported a sail. we were just crossing the course from ayan to ghijiga, and were in the danzig's track. the strange vessel shortened sail and stood to meet us, and before long we were satisfied it was our old acquaintance. at sunset we were several miles apart and nearing very slowly. the night was one of the finest i ever witnessed at sea; the moon full and not a cloud visible, and the wind carrying us four or five miles an hour. the brig was lying to, and we passed close under her stern, shortening our sail as we approached her. everybody was on deck and curious to learn the news. "sdrastveteh," shouted captain lund when we were in hearing distance. "sdrastveteh," responded the clear voice of phillipeus; and then followed the history of the danzig's voyage. "we had a good voyage to ayan, and staid there four days. we are five days out, and passed through a heavy gale on the second day. going to ghijiga." then we replied with the story of our cruise and asked for news from europe. "war in progress. france and austria against prussia, italy, and russia. no particulars." by this time the ships were separated and our conversation ended. it was conducted in russian, but i knew enough of the language to comprehend what was said. there was a universal "eh!" of astonishment as the important sentence was completed. here were momentous tidings; france and russia taking part in a war that was not begun when i left america. a french fleet was in japanese waters and might be watching for us. it had two ships, either of them stronger than the variag. as the danzig disappeared we went below. "i hoped to go home at the end of this voyage," said the captain as we seated around his table; "but we must now remain in the pacific. war has come and may give us glory or the grave; possibly both." for an hour we discussed the intelligence and the probabilities of its truth. as we separated, captain lund repeated with emphasis his opinion that the news was false. "i do not believe it," said he; "but i must prepare for any emergency." in the wardroom the officers were exultant over the prospect of promotion and prize money. the next day the men were exercised at the guns, and for the rest of the voyage they could not complain of ennui. the deck was cleared of all superfluous rubbish, and we were ready for a battle. the shotted case for the signal books was made ready, and other little preparations attended to. i seemed carried back to my days of war, and had vivid recollections of being stormed at with shot and shell. from ohotsk to the mouth of the amoor is a direct course of about four hundred miles. a light draught steamer would have made short work of it, but we drew too much water to enter the northern passage. so we were forced to sail through la perouse straits and up the gulf of tartary to de castries bay. the voyage was more than twelve hundred miles in length, and had several turnings. it was like going from new york to philadelphia through harrisburg, or from paris to london through brussels and edinboro'. a good wind came to our relief and took us rapidly through la perouse straits. there is a high rock in the middle of the passage covered with sea-lions, like those near san francisco. in nearly all weather the roaring of these creatures can be heard, and is a very good substitute for a fog-bell. i am not aware that any government allows a subsidy to the sea-lions. we saw the northern coast of japan and the southern end of sakhalin, both faint and shadowy in the fog and distance. the wind freshened to a gale, and we made twelve knots an hour under double reefed mainsails and topsails. in the narrow straits we escaped the heavy waves encountered at sea in a similar breeze. turning at right angles in the gulf of tartary, we began to roll until walking was no easy matter. the wind abated so that by night we shook out our reefs and spread the royals and to'gallant sails to keep up our speed. as we approached de castries the question of war was again discussed. "if i find only one french ship there," said the captain, "i shall proceed. if there are two i cannot fight them, and must run to san francisco or some other neutral port." just then san francisco was the last place i desired to visit, but i knew i must abide the fortunes of war. we talked of the possibility of convincing a french captain that we were engaged in an international enterprise, and therefore not subject to capture. anossoff joined me in arranging a plan to cover contingencies. as we approached de castries we could see the spars of a large ship over the islands at the entrance of the harbor. a moment later she was announced. "a corvette, with steam up." she displayed her flag--an english one. as we dropped anchor in the harbor a boat came to us, and an officer mounted the side and descended to the cabin. the ship proved to be the british corvette scylla, just ready to sail for japan. escaping her we did not encounter charybdis. the mission of the scylla was entirely pacific, and her officer informed us there had been war between prussia and austria, but at last accounts all europe was at peace. the war of was finished long before i knew of its commencement. de castries bay is on the gulf of tartary, a hundred and thirty-five miles from nicolayevsk. la perouse discovered and surveyed it in , and named it in honor of the french minister of marine. it is in lat. ° ' n., lon. ° ' e., and affords good and safe anchorage. near the entrance are several islands, which protect ships anchored behind them. the largest of these islands is occupied as a warehouse and coal depot, and has an observatory and signal station visible from the gulf. the town is small, containing altogether less than fifty buildings. it is a kind of ocean port to nicolayevsk and the amoor river, but the settlement was never a flourishing one. twelve miles from the landing is the end of lake keezee, which opens into the amoor a hundred and fifty miles from its mouth. it was formerly the custom to send couriers by way of lake keezee and the amoor to nicolayevsk to notify consigners and officials of the arrival of ships. now the telegraph is in operation and supercedes the courier. in an english fleet visited de castries in pursuit of some russian vessels known to have ascended the gulf. when the fleet came in sight there were four russian ships in port, and a few shots were exchanged, none of them taking effect. during a heavy fog in the following night and day the russians escaped and ascended the straits of tartary toward the amoor. the aurora, the largest of these ships, threw away her guns, anchors, and every heavy article, and succeeded in entering the amoor. the english lay near de castries, and could not understand where the russians had gone, as the southern entrance of the amoor was then unknown to geographers. we reached this port on the morning of september eleventh. the variag could go no further owing to her draft of water, but fortunately the morje, a gunboat of the siberian fleet, was to sail for nicolayevsk at noon, and we were happily disappointed in our expectations of waiting several days at de castries. about eleven o'clock i left the variag and accompanied captain lund, the doctor, and mr. anassoff into the boat dancing at the side ladder. half an hour after we boarded the morje she was under way, and we saw the officers and men of the corvette waving us farewell. the morje drew eight feet of water, and was admirably adapted to the sea coast service. there were several vessels of this class in the siberian fleet, and their special duty was to visit the ports of kamchatka, north eastern siberia, and manjouria, and act as tow boats along the straits of tartary. the officers commanding them are sent from russia, and generally remain ten years in this service. at the end of that time, if they wish to retire they can do so and receive half-pay for the rest of their lives. this privilege is not granted to officers in other squadrons, and is given on the siberian station in consequence of the severer duties and the distance from the centers of civilization. in its military service the government makes inducements of pay and promotion to young officers who go to siberia. i frequently met officers who told me they had sought appointments in the asiatic department in preference to any other. the pay and allowances are better than in european russia, promotion is more rapid, and the necessities of life are generally less costly. duties are more onerous and privations are greater, but these drawbacks are of little consequence to an enterprising and ambitious soldier. the morje had no accommodations for passengers, and the addition to her complement was something serious. captain lund, the doctor, mr. anassoff, and myself were guests of her captain. the cabin was given to us to arrange as best we could. my proposal to sleep under the table was laughed at as impracticable. i knew what i was about, having done the same thing years before on mississippi steamers. when you must sleep on the floor where people may walk about, always get under the table if possible. you run less risk of receiving boot heels in your mouth and eyes, and whole acres of brogans in your ribs. the navigation of the straits of tartary is very intricate, the water being shallow and the channel tortuous. from de castries to cape catherine there is no difficulty, but beyond the cape the channel winds like the course of the ohio, and at many points bends quite abruptly. the government has surveyed and buoyed it with considerable care, so that a good pilot can take a light draught steamer from de castries to nicolayevsk in twelve or fifteen hours. sailing ships are greatly retarded by head winds and calms, and often spend weeks on the voyage. in major collins was nineteen days on the barque bering from one of these ports to the other. [illustration: teachings of experience.] in the straits we passed four vessels, one of them thirty days from de castries and only half through the worst of the passage. the water shoals so rapidly in some places that it is necessary to sound on both sides of the ship at once. vessels drawing less than ten feet can pass to the ohotsk sea around the northern end of sakhalin island, but the channel is even more crooked than the southern one. we anchored at sunset, and did not move till daybreak. at the hour of sunset, on this vessel as on the corvette, we had the evening chant of the service of the eastern church. while it was in progress a sentinel on duty over the cabin held his musket in his left hand and made the sign of the cross with his right. soldier and christian at the same moment, he observed the outward ceremonial of both. the crew, with uncovered beads, stood upon the deck and chanted the prayer. as the prayer was uttered the national flag, lowered from the mast, seemed, like those beneath it, to bow in adoration of the being who holds the waters in the hollow of his hand, and guides and controls the universe. while passing the straits of tartary we observed a mirage of great beauty, that pictured the shores of sakhalin like a tropical scene. we seemed to distinguish cocoa and palm trees, dark forests and waving fields of cane, along the rocky shores, that were really below the horizon. then there were castles, with lofty walls and frowning battlements, cloud-capped towers, gorgeous palaces, and solemn temples, rising among the fields and forests, and overarched with curious combinations of rainbow hues. the mirage frequently occurs in this region, but i was told it rarely attained such beauty as on that occasion. sakhalin island, which separates the gulf of tartary from the ohotsk sea, extends through nine degrees of latitude and belongs partly to russia and partly to japan. the japanese have settlements in the southern portion, engaging in trade with the natives and catching and curing fish. the natives are of tunguze origin, like those of the lower amoor, and subsist mainly upon fish. the russians have settlements at cape dui, where there is excellent coal in veins eighteen feet thick and quite near the coast. russia desired the entire island, but the japanese positively refuse to negotiate. some years ago the siberian authorities established a colony near the southern extremity, but its existence was brief. at three o'clock in the afternoon of september eleventh we entered the mouth of the amoor, the great river of asiatic russia. the entrance is between two capes or headlands, seven miles apart and two or three hundred feet high. the southern one, near which we passed, is called cape pronge, and has a gilyak village at its base. below this cape the hills border the gulf and frequently show precipitous sides. the shallow water at their base renders the land undesirable for settlement. the timber is small and indicates the severity of the cold seasons. in their narrowest part the straits are eight miles wide and frozen in winter. the natives have a secure bridge of ice for at least four months of the year. de castries bay is generally filled with ice and unsafe for vessels from october to march. from the time we entered the gulf of tartary the water changed its color, growing steadily dirtier until we reached the amoor. at the mouth of the river i found it a weak tea complexion, like the ohio at its middle stage, and was told that it varied through all the shades common to rivers according to its height and the circumstances of season. i doubt if it ever assumes the hue of the missouri or the sacramento, though it is by no means impossible. passing cape pronge and looking up the river, a background of hills and mountains made a fine landscape with beautiful lights and shadows from the afternoon sun. the channel is marked with stakes and buoys and with beacons along the shore. the pilots when steering frequently turned their backs to the bow of the steamer and watched the beacons over the stern. as we approached nicolayevsk there was a mirage that made the ships in port appear as if anchored in the town itself. we passed chinyrack, the fortress that guards the river, and is surrounded, as if for concealment, with a grove of trees. along the bank above chinyrack there are warehouses of various kinds, all belonging to government. soon after dark we anchored before the town, and below several other vessels. my sea travel was ended till i should reach atlantic waters. chapter x. at nicolayevsk it is half a mile from the anchorage to the shore. a sand spit projects from the lower end of the town and furnishes a site for government workshops and foundries. above this tongue of land the water is shallow and allows only light draft and flat bottomed boats to come to the piers. all sea-going vessels remain, in midstream, where they are discharged by lighters. there is deeper water both above and below the town, and i was told that a change of site had been meditated. the selection of the spot where nicolayevsk stands was owing to the advantages of the sand spit as a protection to river boats. after dining on the morje we went on shore, and landed at a flight of wooden steps in the side of a pier. the piers of nicolayevsk are constructed with 'cribs' about twenty feet apart and strong timbers connecting them. the flooring was about six feet above water, and wide enough for two teams to pass. turning to the left at the end of the pier, we found a plank sidewalk ascending a sloping road in the hillside. the pier reminded me of boston or new york, but it lacked the huge warehouses and cheerful hackmen to render the similarity complete. "this is natchez, mississippi," i said as we moved up the hill, "and this is cairo, illinois," as my feet struck the plank sidewalk. the sloping road came to an end sooner than at natchez, and the sidewalk did not reveal any pitfalls like those in cairo a few years ago. the bluff where the city stands is about fifty feet high, and the ascent of the road so gentle that one must be very weak to find it fatiguing. the officers who came on shore with me went to the club rooms to pass the evening. i sought the residence of mr. h.g.o. chase, the commercial agent of the united states, and representative of the house of boardman. i found him living very comfortably in bachelor quarters that contained a library and other luxuries of civilization. in his sitting-room there was a map of the russian empire and one of boston, and there were lithographs and steel engravings, exhibiting the good taste of the owner. rising early the next morning, i began a study of the town. nicolayevsk was founded in in the interest of the russian government, but nominally as a trading post of the russian american company. very soon it became a military post, and its importance increased with the commencement of hostilities between russia and the western powers in . foundries were established, fortifications built, warehouses erected, and docks laid out from time to time, until the place has attained a respectable size. its population in was about five thousand, with plenty of houses for all residents. nicolayevsk is emphatically a government town, five-sixths of the inhabitants being directly or indirectly in the emperor's employ. "what is this building?" i asked, pointing to a neat house on the principal street. "the residence of the admiral," was the reply. "and this?" "that is the chancellerie." "and this?" "the office of the captain of the port." so i questioned till three-fourths the larger and better establishments had been indicated. nearly all were in some way connected with government. many of the inhabitants are employed in the machine shops, others in the arsenals and warehouses, and a goodly number engage in soldiering. the multitude of whisky shops induces the belief that the verb 'to soldier' is conjugated in all its moods and tenses. the best part of the town is along its front, where there is a wide and well made street called 'the prospect.' the best houses are on the prospect, and include the residences of the chief officials and the merchants. on the back streets is the '_slobodka_,' or poorer part of the town. here the laborers of every kind have their dwellings, and here the _lafka_ is most to be found. lafkas are chiefly devoted to liquor selling, and are as numerous in proportion to the population as beer-shops in chicago. i explored the '_slobodka_,' but did not find it attractive. dogs were as plentiful and as dubious in breed and character as in the sixth ward or near castle garden. the church occupies a prominent position in the foreground of the town, and, like nearly all edifices at nicolayevsk, is built of logs. back of it is the chancellerie, or military and civil office, with a flag-staff and semaphore for signalling vessels in the harbor. of other public buildings i might name the naval office, police office, telegraph house, and a dozen others. on the morning after my arrival i called on admiral fulyelm, the governor of the maritime provinces of eastern siberia. the region he controls includes kamchatka and all the seacoast down to corea, and has an area of nearly seven hundred and fifty thousand square miles. he had been only a few months in command, and was busily at work regulating his department. he spoke english fluently, and was well acquainted with america and american affairs. during my voyage on the variag i heard much of the charming manners of madame fulyelm, and regretted to learn she was spending the summer in the country. the machine shops, foundries, and dock-yard are described in russian by the single word 'port.' i visited the port of nicolayevsk and found it more extensive than one might expect in this new region. there were machines for rolling, planing, cutting, casting, drilling, hammering, punching, and otherwise treating and maltreating iron. there were shops for sawing, planing, polishing, turning, and twisting all sorts of wood, and there were other shops where copper and brass could take any coppery or brassy shape desired. to sum up the port in a few words, its managers can make or repair marine and other engines, and produce any desired woodwork for house building or ship repairing. they build ships and equip them with machinery ready for sea. the establishment is under the direct supervision of mr. woods, an american citizen of scotch birth. mr. elliott, a massachusetts yankee, and mr. laney, an englishman, are connected with the affair. mr. elliott had become a permanent fixture by marrying a russian woman and purchasing a commodious house. the three men appeared to take great pride in what they had accomplished in perfecting the port. it was a little curious to see at the mouth of the amoor a steam fire engine from the amoskeag works at manchester, n.h. the engine was labelled 'amoor' in russian characters, and appeared to be well treated. a house was assigned it, and watchmen were constantly on duty. the whole town being of wood it is highly important that the engine should act promptly in case of fire. the supply of hose was ample for all emergencies. several heavy guns were shown me, which were hauled overland from the ural mountains during the crimean war and brought in boats down the amoor. the expense of transporting them must have been enormous, their journey by roads to the head of the river being fully three thousand miles. i spent a morning with mr. chase in calling upon several foreign merchants and their families. the most prominent of the merchants is mr. ludorf, a german, who went there in , and has transacted a heavy business on the amoor and in japan and china. mrs. ludorf followed her husband in , and was the first foreign lady to enter nicolayevsk. the most interesting topic to mr. chase and the ladies was that of cooks. within two weeks there had been much trouble with the _chefs de cuisine_, and every housekeeper was in deep grief. servants are the universal discomfort from the banks of the hudson to those of the amoor. man to be happy must return to the primitive stages of society before cooks and housemaids were invented. the hills around nicolayevsk are covered with forests of small pines. timber for house building purposes is rafted from points on the amoor where trees are larger. formerly the town was in the midst of a forest, but the vicinity is now pretty well cleared. going back from the river, the streets begin grandly, and promise a great deal they do not perform. for one or two squares they are good, the third square is passable, the fourth is full of stumps, and when you reach the fifth and sixth, there is little street to be found. i never saw a better illustration of the road that commenced with a double row of shade trees, and steadily diminished in character until it became a squirrel-track and ran up a tree. there is very little agriculture in the vicinity, the soil and climate being unfavorable. the chief supply of vegetables comes from the settlements on the south bank of the river up to lake keezee, and along the shores of the lake. all the ordinary garden vegetables are raised, and in some localities they attain goodly size. every morning there was a lively scene at the river's edge in front of the town. peasants from the farming settlements were there with articles for sale, and a vigorous chaffering was in progress. there were soldiers in grey coats, sailors from the ships in the harbor, laborers in clothing more or less shabby, and a fair sprinkling of aboriginals. to an american freshly arrived the natives were quite a study. they were of the mongol type, their complexions dark, hair black, eyes obliquely set, noses flat, and cheek bones high. most of them had the hair plaited in a queue after the chinese fashion. some wore boots of untanned skin, and a few had adopted those of russian make. they generally wear blouses or frocks after the chinese pattern, and the most of them could be readily taken for shabby celestials. their hats were of two kinds, some of felt and turned up at the sides, and others of decorated birch bark shaped like a parasol. these hats were an excellent protection against sun and rain, but could hardly be trusted in a high wind. all these men were inveterate smokers, and carried their pipes and tobacco pouches at their waists. most had sheath knives attached to belts, and some carried flint, steel, and tinder. they formed picturesque groups, some talking with purchasers and others collected around fires or near their piles of fish. [illustration: boat load of salmon.] as i stood on the bank, a gilyak boat came near me with a full cargo of salmon. the boat was built very high at bow and stern, and its bottom was a single plank, greatly curved. it was propelled by a woman manipulating a pair of oars with blades shaped like spoon-bowls, beaten flat, which she pulled alternately with a kind of 'hand-over-hand' process. this mode of rowing is universal among the gilyaks, but does not prevail with other natives along the amoor. whenever i approached a group of gilyaks i was promptly hailed with _'reba! reba!'_ (fish! fish!) i shook my head and uttered _nierte_ (no,) and our conversation ceased. the salmon were in piles along the shore or lying in the native boats. fishing was not a monopoly of the gilyaks, as i saw several russians engaged in the business. they appeared on the best terms with their aboriginal neighbors. salmon are abundant in the amoor and as much a necessity of life as in northern siberia. they are not as good as in kamchatka, and i believe it is the rule that the salmon deteriorates as one goes toward the south. possibly the quality of the amoor salmon is owing to the time the fish remain in the brackish waters of the straits of tartary. the fishing season is the only busy portion of the year with the natives. [illustration: an effective protest.] the town is supplied with water by carts like those used in many places along our western rivers. for convenience in filling the driver goes into the stream until the water is pretty well up his horse's sides. a bucket attached to a long handle is used for dipping, and moves very leisurely. i saw one driver go so far from shore that his horse protested in dumb but expressive show. the animal turned and walked to land, over-setting the cart and spilling the driver into the water. there was a volley of russian epithets, but the horse did not observe them. at a photographic establishment i purchased several views of the city and surrounding region. i sought a watch dealer in the hope of replacing my broken time piece, but was unsuccessful. i finally succeeded in purchasing a cheap watch of so curious workmanship that it ran itself out and utterly stopped within a week. one evening in the public garden a military band furnished creditable music, and i was told that it was formed by selecting men from the ranks, most of whom had never played a single note on any instrument. writers on russia twenty years ago said that men were frequently assigned to work they had never seen performed. if men were wanted for any government service a draft was made, just as for filling the army, and when the recruits arrived they were distributed. one was detailed for a blacksmith, and straightway went to his anvil and began. another was told to be a machinist, and received his tools. he seated himself at his bench, watched his neighbor at work, and commenced with little delay. another became a glass-blower, another a lapidary, another a musician, and so on through all the trades. i have heard that an ohio colonel in our late war had a fondness for never being outdone by rivals. one day his chaplain told him that a work of grace was going on in the army. "fifteen men," said he, "were baptized last sunday in colonel blank's regiment, and the reformation is still going on." without replying the colonel called his adjutant. "captain," was the command, "detail twenty men for baptism at once. i won't be outdone by any other ---- regiment in the army." near the river there are several large buildings, formerly belonging to the amoor company, an institution that closed its affairs in the summer of . after the opening of the amoor this company was formed in st. petersburg with a paid up or guaranteed capital of nearly half a million pounds sterling. its object was the control of trade on the amoor and its tributaries, and the general development of commerce in northern asia. it began operations in , but was unfortunate from the beginning. in it sent out three ships, two of which were lost between de castries and nicolayevsk. each of them had valuable cargoes, and the iron and machinery for two river steamers. the third ship arrived safely, and a steamer which she brought was put together during the winter. it struck a rock and sunk on its first voyage up the river. the misfortunes of the company in following years did not come quite as thick, but their number was ample. the company's dividends were invariably hibernian. it lost money from the beginning, and after spending two and a half million dollars, closed its affairs and went up in a balloon. the russian government has been disappointed in the result of opening the amoor. ten years ago it was thought a great commerce would spring up, but the result has been otherwise. there can be no traffic where there are no people to trade with, and when the amoor was opened the country was little better than a wilderness. the natives were not a mercantile community. there was only one manjour city on the bank of the amoor, and for some time its people were not allowed to trade with russians. even when it was opened it had no important commerce, as it was far removed from the silk, tea, or porcelain districts of china. plainly the dependence must be upon colonization. the amoor was peopled under government patronage, many settlers coming from the trans-baikal province, and others from european russia. nearly all were poor and brought very little money to their new homes. many were cossacks and soldiers, and not reconciled to hard labor. during the first two years of their residence the amoor colonists were supplied with flour at government expense, but after that it was expected they could support themselves. most of the colonies were half military in their character, being composed of cossacks, with their families. on the lower part of the amoor, outside the military posts, the settlers were peasants. flour was carried from st. petersburg to the amoor to supply the garrison and the newly arrived settlers. the production is not yet sufficient for the population, and when i was at nicolayevsk i saw flour just landed from cronstadt. the settlers had generally reached the self-sustaining point, but they did not produce enough to feed the military and naval force. until they do this the amoor will be unprofitable. on the upper amoor flour was formerly brought from the trans-baikal province to supply the settlements down to habarofka. in there was a short crop in that province and a good one on the upper amoor. a large quantity of wheat and rye,--i was told fifty thousand bushels,--was taken to the trans-baikal and sold there. on the whole the amoor country is very good for agriculture, and will sustain itself in time. the import trade is chiefly in american and german hands, and comprises miscellaneous goods, of which they told me at least fifty per cent. were wines and intoxicating liquors! the russian emperor should make intemperance a penal offence and issue an edict against it. a boston house was the first foreign one opened here, and then came a german one. others followed, principally from america, the sandwich islands, hamburg, and bremen. most of the americans have retired from the field, two were closing when i was at the amoor, and mr. boardman's was the only house in full operation. there were three german establishments, and another of a german-american character. all the cereals can be grown on the amoor, and the yield is said to be very good. when its production is developed, wheat can be exported to china and the sandwich islands at a good profit. until the government prohibited the export of timber, although it had inexhaustible quantities growing on the amoor and its tributaries. i saw at nicolayevsk and elsewhere oak and ash of excellent quality. the former was not as tough as new england oak, but the ash could hardly be excelled anywhere, and i was surprised to learn that no one had attempted its export to california, where good timber for wagons and similar work is altogether wanting. pine trees are large, straight, tough, and good-fibred. they ought to compete in chinese ports with pine lumber from elsewhere. [illustration: nothing but bones.] there is a peculiar kind of oak, the maackia, suitable for cabinet work. some exports of wool, hides, and tallow have been made, but none of importance. one cargo of ice has been sent to china, but it melted on the way from improper packing. a hong kong merchant once ordered a cargo of hams from the amoor, and when he received it and opened the barrels he found they contained nothing but bones. as the bone market was low at that time he did not repeat his order. flax and hemp will grow here, and might become profitable exports. there is excellent grazing land and no lack of pasturage, but at present bears make fearful havoc among the cattle and sheep. in some localities tigers are numerous, particularly among the buryea mountains, where the cossacks make a profession of hunting them. the tiger is not likely to become an article of commerce, but on the contrary is calculated to retard civilization. with increased agriculture, pork can be raised and cured, and the russians might find it to their advantage to introduce indian corn, now almost unknown on the amoor. at present hogs on the lower amoor subsist largely on fish, and the pork has a very unpleasant flavor. the steward of the variag told me that in , when at de castries, he had two small pigs from japan. a vessel just from the amoor had a large hog which had been purchased at nicolayevsk. the captain of the ship offered his hog for the two pigs, on the plea that he wished to keep them during his voyage. as the hog was three times the weight of the pigs the steward gladly accepted the proposal, and wondered how a man who made so absurd a trade could be captain of a ship. on killing his prize he found the pork so fishy in flavor that nobody could eat it. the whole hog went literally to the dogs. nicolayevsk is a free port of entry, and there are no duties upon merchandise anywhere in siberia east of lake baikal. since the opening of commerce, in , the number of ships arriving annually varies from six or eight to nearly forty. in there were twenty-three vessels on government, and fifteen on private account. the government vessels brought flour, salt, lead, iron, machinery, telegraph material, army and navy equipments, and a thousand and one articles included under the head of 'government stores.' the private ones, (three of them american,) brought miscellaneous cargoes for the mercantile community. there were no wrecks in that year, or at any rate, none up to the time of my departure. at the amoor i first began to hear those stories of peculation that greet every traveler in russia. according to my informants there were many deficiencies in official departments, and very often losses were ascribed to 'leakage,' 'breakage,' and damage of different kinds. "did you ever hear," said a gentleman to me, "of rats devouring window-glass, or of anchors and boiler iron blowing away in the wind?" however startling such phenomena, he declared they had been known at nicolayevsk and elsewhere in the empire. i think if all the truth were revealed we might learn of equally strange occurrences in america during the late war. the russians have explored very thoroughly the coast of manjouria in search of good harbors. below de castries the first of importance is barracouta bay, in latitude °. the government made a settlement there in , but subsequently abandoned it for olga bay, six degrees further south. vladivostok, or dominion of the east, was occupied in , and a naval station commenced. a few years later, posyet was founded near the head of the corean peninsula, and is now growing rapidly. it has one of the finest harbors on the japan sea, completely sheltered, easily defended, and affording superior facilities for repairing ships of war or commerce. it is free from ice the entire year, and has a little cove or bay that could be converted into a dry dock at small expense. in posyet was visited by ten merchant vessels; it exported fifteen thousand poods of _beche de mer_, the little fish formerly the monopoly of the feejees, and of which john chinaman is very fond. it exported ten thousand poods of bean cake, and eleven times that quantity of a peculiar sea-grass eaten by the celestials. ginseng root was also an article of commerce between posyet and shanghae. russia appears in earnest about the development of the manjourian coast, and is making many efforts for that object. the telegraph is completed from nicolayevsk to the new seaport, and a post route has been established along the ousuree. from san francisco to the mouth of the amoor i did not see a wheeled vehicle, with the exception of a hand cart and a dog wagon. at nicolayevsk there were horses, carts, and carriages, and i had my first experience of a horse harnessed with the russian yoke. the theory of the yoke is, that it keeps the shafts away from the animal's sides, and enables him to exert more strength than when closely hedged. i cannot give a positive opinion on this point, but believe the russians are correct. the yoke standing high above the horse's head and touching him nowhere, has a curious appearance when first seen. i never could get over the idea while looking at a dray in motion, that the horse was endeavoring to walk through an arched gateway and taking it along with him. the shafts were wide apart and attached by straps to the horse's collar. all the tension came through the shafts, and these were strengthened by ropes that extended to the ends of the forward axle. harnesses had a shabby, 'fixed up' appearance, with a good deal of rope in their composition. why they did not go to pieces or crumble to nothing, like the deacon's one horse shay, was a mystery. before leaving nicolayevsk i enjoyed a ride in one of its private carriages. the vehicle was open, its floor quite low, and the wheels small. we had two horses, one between the shafts and wearing the inevitable yoke. the other was outside, and attached to an iron single-tree over the forward wheel. three horses can be driven abreast on this kind of carriage. the shaft horse trotted, while the other galloped, holding his head very low and turned outward. this is due to a check rein, which keeps him in a position hardly natural. the orthodox mode in russia is to have the shaft horse trotting while the other runs as described; the difference in the motion gives an attractive and dashy appearance to the turnout. existence would be incomplete to a russian without an equipage, and if he cannot own one he keeps it on hire. the gayety of russian cities in winter and summer is largely due to the number of private vehicles in constant motion through the streets. [illustration: tail piece--native woman] chapter xi. i arranged to ascend the amoor on the steamer ingodah, which was appointed to start on the eighteenth of september. my friend anossoff remained at nicolayevsk during the winter, instead of proceeding to irkutsk as i had fondly hoped. i found a _compagnon du voyage_ in captain borasdine, of general korsackoff's staff. in a drenching rain on the afternoon of the seventeenth, we carried our baggage to the ingodah, which lay half a mile from shore. we reached the steamer after about twenty minutes pulling in a whale-boat and shipping a barrel of water through the carelessness of an oarsman. at nicolayevsk the amoor is about a mile and a half wide, with a depth of twenty to thirty-five feet in the channel. i asked a resident what he thought the average rapidity of the current in front of the town. "when you look at it or float with it," said he, "i think it is about three and a half miles. if you go against it you find it not an inch less than five miles." the rowers had no light task to stem the rapid stream, and i think it was about like the mississippi at memphis. the boat was to leave early in the morning. i took a farewell dinner with mr. chase, and at ten o'clock received a note from borasdine announcing his readiness to go to the steamer. anossoff, chase, and half a dozen others assembled to see us off, and after waking the echoes and watchmen on the pier, we secured a skiff and reached the ingodah. the rain was over, and stars were peeping through occasional loop-holes in the clouds. [illustration: seeing off.] 'seeing off' consumed much time and more champagne. as we left the house i observed chase and anossoff each putting a bottle in his pocket, and remarking the excellent character of their ballast. from the quantity that revealed itself afterward the two bottles must have multiplied, or other persons in the party were equally provided. to send off a friend in russia requires an amount of health-drinking rarely witnessed in new york or boston. if the journey is by land the wayfarer is escorted a short distance on his route, sometimes to the edge of the town, and sometimes to the first station. adieus are uttered over champagne, tea, lunch--and champagne. it was nearly daybreak when our friends gave us the last hand-shake and went over the side. watching till their boat disappeared in the gloom, i sought the cabin, and found the table covered with a beggarly array of empty bottles and a confused mass of fragmentary edibles. i retired to sleep, while the cabin boy cleared away the wreck. the sun rose before our captain. when i followed their example we were still at anchor and our boilers cold as a refusal to a beggar. late in the morning the captain appeared; about nine o'clock fire was kindled in the furnace, and a little past ten we were under way. as our anchor rose and the wheel began to move, most of the deck passengers turned in the direction of the church and devoutly made the sign of the cross. as we slowly stemmed the current the houses of nicolayevsk and the shipping in its front, the smoking foundries, and the pine-covered hills, faded from view, and with my face to the westward i was fairly afloat on the amoor. the ingodah was a plain, unvarnished boat, a hundred and ten feet long, and about fifteen feet beam. her hull was of boiler iron, her bottom flat, and her prow sharp and perpendicular. her iron, wood work, and engines were brought in a sailing ship to the amoor and there put together. she had two cabins forward and one aft, all below deck. there was a small hold for storing baggage and freight, but the most of the latter was piled on deck. the pilot house was over the forward cabin, and contained a large wheel, two men, and a chart of the river. the rudder was about the size of a barn door, and required the strength of two men to control it. had she ever refused to obey her helm she would have shown an example of remarkable obstinacy. over the after cabin there was a cook-house, where dwelt a shabby and unwholesome cuisinier. between the wheels was a bridge, occupied by the captain when starting or stopping the boat; the engines, of thirty horse power, were below deck, under this bridge. the cabins, without state rooms, occupied the whole width of the boat. wide seats with cushions extended around the cabins, and served as beds at night. each passenger carried his own bedding and was his own chambermaid. the furniture consisted of a fixed table, two feet by ten, a dozen stools, a picture of a saint, a mirror, and a boy, the latter article not always at hand. the cabins were unclean, and reminded me of the general condition of transports during our late war. can any philosopher explain why boats in the service of government are nearly always dirty? the personnel of the boat consisted of a captain, mate, engineer, two pilots, and eight or ten men. the captain and mate were in uniform when we left port, but within two hours they appeared in ordinary suits of grey. the crew were deck hands, roustabouts, or firemen, by turns, and when we took wood most of the male deck passengers were required to assist. on american steamboats the after cabin is the aristocratic one; on the amoor the case is reversed. the steerage passengers lived, moved, and had their being and baggage aft the engine, while their betters were forward. this arrangement gave the steerage the benefit of all cinders and smoke, unless the wind was abeam or astern. steam navigation on the amoor dates from . in that year two wooden boats, the shilka and the argoon, were constructed on the shilka river, preparatory to the grand expedition of general mouravieff. their timber was cut in the forests of the shilka, and their engines were constructed at petrovsky-zavod. the argoon was the first to descend, leaving shilikinsk on the th of may, , and bringing the governor general and his staff. it was accompanied by fifty barges and a great many rafts loaded with military forces to occupy the amoor, and with provisions for the pacific fleet. the shilka descended a few months later. she was running in , but the argoon, the pioneer, existed less than a decade. in there were twenty-two steamers on the amoor, all but four belonging to the government. the government boats are engaged in transporting freight, supplies, soldiers, and military stores generally, and carrying the mail. they carry passengers and private freight at fixed rates, but do not give insurance against fire or accidents of navigation. passengers contract with the captain or steward for subsistence while on board. deck passengers generally support themselves, but can buy provisions on the boat if they wish. the steward may keep wines and other beverages for sale by the bottle, but he cannot maintain a bar. he has various little speculations of his own and does not feed his customers liberally. on the ingodah the steward purchased eggs at every village, and expected to sell them at a large profit in nicolayevsk. when we left him he had at least ten bushels on hand, but he never furnished eggs to us unless we paid extra for them. one cabin was assigned to borasdine and myself, save at meal times, when two other passengers were present. one end of it was filled with the mail, of which there were eight bags, each as large as a saratoga trunk and as difficult to handle. the russian government performs an 'express' service and transports freight by mail; it receives parcels in any part of the empire and agrees to deliver them in any other part desired. from nicolayevsk to st. petersburg the charges are twenty-five copecks (cents) a pound, the distance being seven thousand miles. it gives receipts for the articles, and will insure them at a charge of two per cent. on their value. goods of any kind can be sent by post through russia just as by express in america. captain lund sent a package containing fifty sable skins to his brother in cronstadt, and another with a silk dress pattern to a lady in st. petersburg. in the mail on the ingodah there were twelve hundred pounds of sable fur sent by mr. chase to his agent in st. petersburg. money to any amount can be remitted, and its delivery insured. i have known twenty thousand roubles sent on a single order. parcels for transportation by post must be carefully and securely packed. furs, silks, clothing, and all things of that class are enveloped in repeated layers of oil cloth and canvas to exclude water and guard against abrasion. light articles, like bonnets, must be packed with abundance of paper filling them to their proper shape, and very securely boxed. a siberian lady once told me that a friend in st. petersburg sent her a lot of bonnets, laces, and other finery purchased at great expense. she waited a long time with feminine anxiety, and was delighted when told her box was at the post office. what was her disappointment to find the articles had been packed in a light case which was completely smashed. she never made use of any part of its contents. in crossing siberian rivers the mail is sometimes wet, and it is a good precaution to make packages waterproof. a package of letters for new york from nicolayevsk i enveloped in canvas, by advice of russian friends, and it went through unharmed. [illustration: scenes on the amoor.] the post wagons are changed at every station, and the mail while being transferred is not handled with care. frail articles must be boxed so that no tossing will injure them. my lady friend told me of a bride who ordered her trousseau from st. petersburg and prepared for a magnificent wedding. the precious property arrived forty-eight hours before the time fixed for the ceremony. moving accidents by flood and field had occurred. the bridal paraphernalia was soaked, crushed, and reduced to a mass that no one could resolve into its original elements. the wedding was postponed and a new supply of goods ordered. the mail is always in charge of a postillion, who is generally a cossack, and his duty is much like that of a mail agent in other countries. he delivers and receives the sacks of matter at the post offices, and guards them on the road. during our voyage on the ingodah there was no supervision over the mail bags after they were deposited in our cabin. i passed many hours in their companionship, and if borasdine and i had chosen to rifle them we could have done so at our leisure. possibly an escape from the penalties of the law would have been less easy. our cook was an elderly personage, with thin hair, a yellow beard, and a much neglected toilet. on the first morning i saw him at his ablutions, and was not altogether pleased with his manner. he took a half-tumbler of water in his mouth and then squirted the fluid over his hands, rubbing them meanwhile with invisible soap. he was quite skillful, but i could never relish his dinners if i had seen him any time within six hours. his general appearance was that of having slept in a gutter without being shaken afterwards. the day of our departure from nicolayevsk was like the best of our indian summer. there was but little wind, the faintest breath coming now and then from the hills on the southern bank. the air was of a genial warmth, the sky free from clouds and only faintly dimmed with the haze around the horizon. the forest was in the mellow tints of autumn, and the wide expanse of foliferous trees, dotted at frequent intervals with the evergreen pine, rivalled the october hues of our new england landscape. hills and low mountains rose on both banks of the river and made a beautiful picture. the hills, covered with forest from base to summit, sloped gently to the water's edge or retreated here and there behind bits of green meadow. in the distance was a background of blue mountains glowing in sunshine or dark in shadow, and varying in outline as we moved slowly along. the river was ruffled only by the ripples of the current or the motion of our boat through the water. just a year earlier i descended the saint lawrence from lake ontario to quebec. i saw nothing on the great canadian river that equaled the scenery of my first day's voyage on the amoor. soon after leaving nicolayevsk we met several loads of hay floating with the current to a market at the town. on the meadows along the river the grass is luxuriant, and hay requires only the labor of cutting and curing. during the day we passed several points where haymaking was in progress. cutting was performed with an instrument resembling the short scythe used in america for cutting bushes. after it was dried, the hay was brought to the river bank on dray-like carts. an american hay wagon would have accomplished twice as much, with equal labor. the hay is like new england hay from natural meadows, and is delivered at nicolayevsk for six or eight dollars a ton. cattle and horses thrive upon it, if i may judge by the condition of the stock i saw. for its transportation two flat-bottomed boats are employed, and held about twelve feet apart by timbers. a floor on these timbers and over the boats serves to keep the hay dry. men are stationed at both ends of the boats, and when once in the stream there is little to do beside floating with the current. a mile distant one of these barges appears like a haystack which an accident has set adrift. we saw many gilyak boats descending the river with the current or struggling to ascend it. the gilyaks form the native population in this region and occupy thirty-nine villages with about two thousand inhabitants. the villages are on both banks from the mouth of the river to mariensk, and out of the reach of all inundations. distance lends enchantment to the view of their houses, which will not bear close inspection. [illustration: a gilyak village.] some of the houses might contain a half dozen families of ordinary size, and were well adapted to the climate. while we took wood at a gilyak village i embraced the opportunity to visit the aboriginals. the village contained a dozen dwellings and several fish-houses. the buildings were of logs or poles, split in halves or used whole, and were roofed with poles covered with a thatch of long grass to exclude rain and cold. some of the dwelling houses had the solid earth for floors, while others had floorings of hewn planks. the store houses were elevated on posts like those of an american 'corn barn,' and were wider and lower than the dwellings. each storehouse had a platform in front where canoes, fishing nets, and other portable property were stowed. these buildings were the receptacles of dried fish for the winter use of dogs and their owners. the elevation of the floor serves to protect the contents from dogs and wild animals. i was told that no locks were used and that theft was a crime unknown. the dwellings were generally divided into two apartments; one a sort of ante room and receptacle of house-keeping goods, and the other the place of residence. pots, kettles, knives, and wooden pans were the principal articles of household use i discovered. at the storehouses there were several fish-baskets of birch or willow twigs. a gilyak gentleman does not permit fire carried into or out of his house, not even in a pipe. this is not owing to his fear of conflagrations, but to a superstition that such an occurrence may bring him ill luck in hunting or fishing. it was in the season of curing fish, and the stench that greeted my nostrils was by no means delightful. visits to dwellings or magazines would have been much easier had i possessed a sponge saturated with cologne water. fish were in various stages of preparation, some just hung upon poles, while others were nearly ready for the magazine. the manner of preparation is much the same as in kamchatka, save that the largest fish are skinned before being cut into strips. the poorest qualities go to the dogs, and the best are reserved for bipeds. though the natives do the most of the fishing on the amoor, they do not have a monopoly of it, as some of the russians indulge in the sport. one old fellow that i saw had a boat so full of salmon, that there was no room for more. now and then a fish went overboard, causing an expression on the boatman's face as if he were suffering from a dose of astonishment and toothache drops in equal proportions. there were dogs everywhere, some lying around loose, and others tied to posts under the storehouses. some walked about and manifested an unpleasant desire to taste the calves of my legs. all barked, growled, and whined in a chorus like a pawnee concert. there were big dogs and little dogs, white, black, grey, brown, and yellow dogs, and not one friendly. they did not appear courageous, but i was not altogether certain of their dispositions. their owners sought to quiet them, but they refused comfort. [illustration: about full.] those dogs had some peculiarities of those in kamchatka, but their blood was evidently much debased; they appeared to be a mixture of kamchadale, greyhound, bull dog, and cur, the latter predominating. they are used for hunting at all seasons, and for towing boats in summer and dragging sledges in winter. i was told that since the russian settlement of the amoor the gilyak dogs have degenerated, in consequence of too much familiarity with muscovite canines. nicolayevsk appeared quite cosmopolitan, in the matter of dogs, and it was impossible to say what breed was most numerous. one day i saw nineteen in a single group and no two alike. near the entrance of the village an old man was repairing his nets, which were stretched along a fence. he did not regard us as we scrutinized his jacket of blue cotton, and he made no response to a question which borasdine asked. further along were two women putting fish upon poles for drying, and a third was engaged in skinning a large salmon. the women did not look up from their work, and were not inclined to amiability. they had mongol features, complexion, eyes, and hair, the latter thick and black. some of the men wear it plaited into queues, and others let it grow pretty much at will. each woman i saw had it braided in two queues, which hung over her shoulders. in their ears they wore long pendants, and their dresses were generally arranged with taste. when recalled by the steam whistle we left the village and took a short route down a steep bank to the boat. in descending, my feet passed from under me, and i had the pleasure of sliding about ten yards before stopping. had it not been for a cossack who happened in my way i should have entered the amoor after the manner of an otter, and afforded much amusement to the spectators, though comparatively little to myself. the sliding attracted no special attention as it was supposed to be the american custom, and i did not deem it prudent to make an explanation lest the story might bring discredit to my nationality. [illustration: tail piece--a turn out] chapter xii. i had a curiosity to examine the ancient monuments at tyr, opposite the mouth of the amgoon river, but we passed them in the night without stopping. there are several traditions concerning their origin. the most authentic story gives them an age of six or seven hundred years. they are ascribed to an emperor of the yuen dynasty who visited the mouth of the amoor and commemorated his journey by building the 'monastery of eternal repose.' the ruined walls of this monastery are visible, and the shape of the building can be easily traced. in some places the walls are eight or ten feet high. mr. collins visited the spot in and made sketches of the monuments. he describes them situated on a cliff a hundred and fifty feet high, from which there is a magnificent view east and west of the amoor and the mountains around it. toward the south there are dark forests and mountain ridges, some of them rough and broken. to the north is the mouth of the amgoon, with a delta of numerous islands covered with forest, while in the northwest the valley of the river is visible for a long distance. back from the cliff is a table-land several miles in width. this table-land is covered with oak, aspen, and fir trees, and has a rich undergrowth of grass and flowers. on a point of the cliff there are two monuments. a third is about four hundred yards away. one is a marble shaft on a granite pedestal; a second is entirely granite, and the third partly granite and partly porphyry. the first and third bear inscriptions in chinese, mongol, and thibetan. one inscription announces that the emperor yuen founded the monastery of eternal repose, and the others record a prayer of the thibetans. archimandrate avvakum, a learned russian, who deciphered the inscriptions, says the thibetan prayer _om-mani-badme-khum_ is given in three languages.[c] [footnote c: abbe hue in his 'recollections of a journey through thibet and tartary,' says:-- "the thibetans are eminently religious. there exists at lassa a touching custom which we are in some sort jealous of finding among infidels. in the evening as soon as the light declines, the thibetans, men, women, and children, cease from all business and assemble in the principal parts of the city and in the public squares. when the groups are formed, every one sits down on the ground and begins slowly to chant his prayers in an undertone, and this religious concert produces an immense and solemn harmony throughout the city. the first time we heard it we could not help making a sorrowful comparison between this pagan town, where all prayed in common, with the cities of the civilized world, where people would blush to make the sign of the cross in public. "the prayer chanted in these evening meetings varies according to the season of the year; that which they recite to the rosary is always the same, and is only composed of six syllables, _om-mani-badme-khum_. this formula, called briefly the _mani_, is not only heard from every mouth, but is everywhere written in the streets, in the interior of the houses, on every flag and streamer floating over the buildings, printed in the landzee, tartar, and thibetan characters. the lamas assert that the doctrine contained in these words is immense, and that the whole life of man is not sufficient to measure its depth and extent."] the lowest of the monuments is five and the tallest eight feet in height. near them are several flat stones with grooves in their surface, which lead to the supposition of their employment for sacrificial purposes. mr. chase told me at nicolayevsk that he thought one of the monuments was used as an altar when the monastery flourished. there are no historical data regarding the ruins beyond those found on the stones. many of the russians and chinese believe the site was selected by genghis khan, and the monastery commemorated one of his triumphs. the natives look upon the spot with veneration, and frequently go there to practice their mysterious rites. before leaving nicolayevsk i asked the captain of the irigodah how fast his boat could steam. "oh!" said he, "ten or twelve versts an hour." accustomed to our habit of exaggerating the powers of a steamer, i expected no more than eight or nine versts. i was surprised to find we really made twelve to fifteen versts an hour. ten thousand miles from st. louis and new orleans i at last found what i sought for several years--a steamboat captain who understated the speed of his boat! justice to the man requires the explanation that he did not own her. [illustration: on the amoor.] my second day on the amoor was much like the first in the general features of the scenery. hills and mountains on either hand; meadows bounding one bank or the other at frequent intervals; islands dotted here and there with pleasing irregularity, or stretching for many miles along the valley; forests of different trees, and each with its own particular hue; a canopy of hazy sky meeting ranges of misty peaks in the distance; these formed the scene. some one asks if all the tongues in the world can tell how the birds sing and the lilacs smell. equally difficult is it to describe with pen upon paper the beauties of that amoor scenery. each bend of the stream gave us a new picture. it was the unrolling of a magnificent panorama such as no man has yet painted. and what can i say? there was mountain, meadow, forest, island, field, cliff, and valley; there were the red leaves of the autumn maple, the yellow of the birch, the deep green of pine and hemlock, the verdure of the grass, the wide river winding to reach the sea, and we slowly stemming its current. how powerless are words to describe a scene like this! the passengers of our boat were of less varied character than those on a mississippi steamer. there were two russian merchants, who joined us at meal times in the cabin but slept in the after part of the boat. one was owner of a gold mine two hundred miles north of nicolayevsk, and a general dealer in everything along the amoor. he had wandered over mongolia and northern china in the interest of commerce, and i greatly regretted my inability to talk with him and learn of the regions he had visited. he was among the first to penetrate the celestial empire under the late commercial treaty, and traveled so far that he was twice arrested by local authorities. he knew every fair from leipsic to peking, and had been an industrious commercial traveler through all northern asia. once, below sansin, on the songaree river, he was attacked by thieves where he had halted for the night. with a single exception his crew was composed of chinese, and these ran away at the first alarm. with his only russian companion he attempted to defend his property, but the odds were too great, especially as his gun could not be found. he was made prisoner and compelled to witness the plundering of his cargo. every thing valuable being taken, the thieves left him. in the morning he proceeded down the stream. not caring to engage another crew, he floated with the current and shared with his russian servant the labor of steering. the next night he was robbed again, and the robbers, angry at finding so little to steal, did not leave him his boat. after much difficulty he reached a native village and procured an old skiff. with this he finished his journey unmolested. there were fifteen or twenty deck passengers, a fair proportion being women and children. among the latter was a black eyed girl of fifteen, in a calico dress and wearing a shawl pinned around a pretty face. on sunday morning she appeared in neat apparel and was evidently desirous of being seen. there were two old men dressed in coarse cloth of a 'butternut' hue, that reminded me of arkansas and tennessee. the morning we started one of them was seated on the deck counting a pile of copper coin with great care. two, three, four times he told it off, piece by piece, and then folded it carefully in the corner of his kerchief. in all he had less than a rouble, but he preserved it as if it were a million. [illustration: cash account.] the baggage of the deck passengers consisted of boxes and household furniture in general, not omitting the ever-present samovar. this baggage was piled on the deck and was the reclining place of its owners by day. in the night they had the privilege of the after cabin, where they slept on the seats and floor. 'wooding up' was not performed with american alacrity. to bring the steamer to land she was anchored thirty feet from shore, and two men in a skiff carried a line to the bank and made it fast. with this line and the anchor the boat was warped within ten feet of the shore, another line keeping the stern in position. an ordinary plank a foot wide made the connection with the solid earth. these boats have no guards and cannot overhang the land like our western craft. wood was generally piled fifty, a hundred, or five hundred feet from the landing place, wherever most convenient to the owner. no one seems to think of placing it near the water's edge as with us; they told me that this had been done formerly, and the freshets had carried the wood away. the peasants, warned by their loss, are determined to keep on the safe side. when all was ready the deck hands went very leisurely to work. each carried a piece of rope which he looped around a few sticks of wood as a boy secures his bundle of school books. the rope was then slung upon the shoulder, the wood hanging over the back of the carrier and occasionally coming loose from its fastenings. no man showed any sign of hurrying, but all acted as if there were nothing in the world as cheap as time. one day i watched the wooding operation from beginning to end. it took an hour and a half and twelve men to bring about four cords of wood on board. there was but one man displaying any activity, and _he_ was falling from the plank into the river. [illustration: wooding up.] the russian measure of wood is the _sajene_ (fathom.) and a sajene of wood is a pile a fathom long, wide, and high. the russian marine fathom measures six feet like our own, but the land fathom is seven feet. it is by the land fathom that everything on solid earth is measured. a stick seven feet long is somewhat inconvenient, and therefore they cut wood half a fathom in length. we landed our first freight at nova mihalofski, a russian village on the southern bank of the river. the village was small and the houses were far from palatial. the inhabitants live by agriculture in summer, sending their produce to nicolayevsk, and by supplying horses for the postal service in winter. i observed here and at other villages an example of russian economy. not able to purchase whole panes of window glass the peasants use fragments of glass of any shape they can get. these are set in pieces of birch bark cut to the proper form and the edges held by wax or putty. the bark is then fastened to the window sash much as a piece of mosquito netting is fixed in a frame. near springfield, missouri, i once passed a night in a farmer's house. the dwelling had no windows, and when we breakfasted we were obliged to keep the door open to give us light, though the thermometer was at zero, with a strong wind blowing. "i have lived in this house seventeen years," said the owner; "have a good farm and own four niggers." but he could not afford the expense of a window, even of the siberian kind! ten or fifteen miles above this village we reached mihalofski, containing a hundred houses and three or four hundred inhabitants. from the river this town appeared quite pretty and thriving; the houses were substantially built, and many had flower gardens in front and neat fences around them. between the town and the river there were market gardens in flourishing condition, bearing most of the vegetables in common use through the north. the town is along a ridge of easy ascent, and most of the dwellings are thirty or forty feet above the river. its fields and gardens extend back from the river wherever the land is fertile and easiest cleared of the forest. on the opposite side of the river there are meadows where the peasants engage in hay cutting. the general appearance of the place was like that of an ordinary village on the lower st. lawrence, though there were many points of difference. in several rye fields the grain had been cut and stacked. near our landing was a mill, where a man, a boy, and a horse were manufacturing meal at the rate of seven poods or pounds a day. the whole machinery was on the most primitive scale. entering the house of the mill-owner i found the principal apartment quite neat and well arranged, its walls being whitewashed and decorated with cheap lithographs and wood-cuts. among the latter were several from the illustrated london news and _l'illustration universelle_. the sleeping room was fitted with bunks like those on steamboats, though somewhat wider. there was very little clothing on the beds, but several sheepskin coats and coverlids were hanging on a fence in front of the house. borasdine had business at the telegraph station, whither i accompanied him. the operator furnished a blank for the despatch, and when it was written and paid for he gave a receipt. the receipt stated the hour and minute when the despatch was taken, the name of the sender, the place where sent, the number of words, and the amount paid. this form is invariably adhered to in the siberian telegraph service. the telegraph on the lower amoor was built under the supervision of colonel romanoff and was not completed at the time of my visit. it commenced at nicolayevsk and followed the south bank of the amoor to habarofka at the mouth of the ousuree. at mariensk there was a branch to de castries, and from habarofka the line extended along the ousuree and over the mountains to posyet and vladivostok. from habarofka it was to follow the north bank of the amoor to the shilka, to join the line from irkutsk and st. petersburg. arrangements have been made recently to lay a cable from posyet to hakodadi in japan, and thence to shanghae and other parts of china. when the cable proposed by major collins is laid across the pacific ocean, and the break in the amoor line is closed up, the telegraph circuit around the globe will be complete. the telegraph is operated on the morse system with instruments of prussian manufacture. compared to our american instruments the prussian ones are quite clumsy, though they did not appear so in the hands of the operators. the signal key was at least four times as large as ours, and could endure any amount of rough handling. the other machinery was on a corresponding scale. a merchant who knew mr. borasdine invited us to his house, where he brought a lunch of bread, cheese, butter, and milk for our entertainment. salted cucumbers were added, and the repast ended with tea. in the principal room there was a connecticut clock in one corner, and the windows were filled with flowers, among which were the morning glory, aster, and verbena. several engravings adorned the walls, most of them printed at berlin. we purchased a loaf of sugar, and were shown a bear-skin seven feet long without ears and tail. the original and first legitimate owner of the skin was killed within a mile of town. in addition to his commerce and farming, this merchant was superintendent of a school where several gilyak boys were educated. it was then vacation, and the boys were engaged in catching their winter supply of fish. at the merchant's invitation we visited the school buildings. the study room was much like a backwoods schoolroom in america, having rude benches and desks, but with everything clean and well made. the copy-books exhibited fair specimens of penmanship. on a desk lay a well worn reading book containing a dozen of Ã�sop's fables translated into russian and profusely illustrated. it corresponded to an american 'second reader.' there was a dormitory containing eight beds, and there was a wash-room, a dining-room, and a kitchen, the latter separate from the main building. close at hand was a forge where the boys learned to work in iron, and a carpenter shop with a full set of tools and a turning lathe. the superintendent showed me several articles made by the pupils, including wooden spoons, forks, bowls, and cups, and he gave me for a souvenir a seal cut in pewter, bearing the word 'fulyhelm' in russian letters, and having a neatly turned handle. the school is in operation ten months of each year. the superintendent said the children of the russian peasants could attend if they wished, but very few did so. the teacher was a subordinate priest of the eastern church. the expense of the establishment was paid by government, with the design of making the boys useful in educating the gilyaks. the gilyaks of the lower amoor are pagans, and the attempts to christianize them have not been very successful thus far. their religion consists in the worship of idols and animals, and their priests or _shamans_ correspond to the 'medicine man' of the american indians. among animals they revere the tiger, and i was told no instance was known of their killing one. the remains of a man killed by a tiger are buried without ceremony, but in the funerals of other persons the gilyaks follow very nearly the chinese custom. the bear is also sacred, but his sanctity does not preserve him from being killed. [illustration: bear in procession.] in hunting this beast they endeavor to capture him alive; once taken and securely bound he is placed in a cage in the middle of a village, and there fattened upon fish. on fete-days he is led, or rather dragged, in procession, and of course is thoroughly muzzled and bound. finally a great day arrives on which bruin takes a prominent part in the festival by being killed. there are many superstitious ceremonies carefully observed on such occasions. the ears, jawbones, and skull of the bear are hung upon trees to ward off evil spirits, and the flesh is eaten, as it is supposed to make all who partake of it both fortunate and courageous. i did not have the pleasure of witnessing any of these ursine festivals, but i saw several bear cages and looked upon a bear while he lunched on cold salmon. if the bear were more gentle in his manners he might become a household pet among the gilyaks; but at present he is not in favor, especially where there are small children. ermines were formerly domesticated for catching rats, the high price of cats confining their possession to the wealthy. cats have a half-religious character and are treated with great respect. since the advent of the russians the supply is very good. before they came the manjour merchants used to bring only male cats that could not trouble themselves about posterity. the price was sometimes a hundred roubles for a single mouser, and by curtailing the supply the manjours kept the market good. the gilyaks, like nearly all the natives of northern asia, are addicted to shamanism. the shaman combines the double function of priest and doctor, ministering to the physical and spiritual being at the same time. when a man is taken sick he is supposed to be attacked by an evil spirit and the shaman is called to practice exorcism. there is a distinct spirit for every disease and he must be propitiated in a particular manner. while practicing his profession the shaman contorts his body and dances like one insane, and howls worse than a dozen kamchadale dogs. he is dressed in a fantastic manner and beats a tambourine during his performance. to accommodate himself to the different spirits he modulates his voice, changes the character of his dance, and alters his costume. both doctor and patient are generally decked with wood-shavings while the work is going on. sometimes an effigy of the sick person is prepared, and the spirit is charmed from the man of flesh to the one of straw. the shaman induces him to take up lodgings in this effigy, and the success of his persuasion is apparent when the invalid recovers. if the patient dies the shaman declares that the spirit was one over which he had no control, but he does not hesitate to take pay for his services. [illustration: practice of medicine.] a russian traveler who witnessed one of these exorcisms said that the shaman howled so fearfully that two chinese merchants who were present out of curiosity fled in very terror. the gentleman managed to endure it to the end, but did not sleep well for a week afterward. the gilyaks believe in both good and evil spirits, but as the former do only good it is not thought necessary to pay them any attention. all the efforts are to induce the evil spirits not to act. they are supposed to have power over hunting, fishing, household affairs, and the health and well-being of animals and men. the shamans possess great power over their superstitious subjects, and their commands are rarely refused. i heard of an instance wherein a native caught a fine sable and preserved the skin as a trophy. very soon a man in the village fell ill. the shaman after practicing his art announced that the spirit commanded the sable skin to be worn by the doctor himself. the valuable fur was given up without hesitation. a russian traveler stopping one night in a gilyak house discovered in the morning that his sledge was missing, and was gravely told that the spirit had taken it. in the small pox raged in one of the tribes living on the kolyma river, and the deaths from it were numerous. the shamans practiced all their mysteries, and invoked the spirits, but they could not stop the disease. finally, after new invocations, they declared the evil spirits could not be appeased without the death of kotschen, a chief of the tribe. this chief was so generally loved and respected that the people refused to obey the shamans. but as the malady made new progress, kotschen magnanimously came forward and was stabbed by his own son. in general the shamans are held in check by the belief that should they abuse their power they will be long and severely punished after death. this punishment is supposed to occur in a locality specially devoted to bad shamans. a good shaman who has performed wonderful cures receives after death a magnificent tomb to his memory. the russians think that with educated gilyaks they can succeed in winning the natives to christianity, especially when the missionaries are skilled in the useful arts of civilized life. hence the school in mihalofski, and it has so far succeeded well in the instruction of the boys. russian and gilyak children were working in the gardens in perfect harmony, and there was every indication of good feeling between natives and settlers. chapter xiii. on leaving mihalofski we took the merchant and two priests and dropped them fifteen miles above, at a village where a church was being dedicated. the people were in their holiday costume and evidently awaited the priests. the church was pointed out, nestling in the forest just back of the river bank. it seemed more than large enough for the wants of the people, and was the second structure of the kind in a settlement ten years old. i have been told, but i presume not with literal truth, that a church is the first building erected in a russian colony. at night we ran until the setting of the moon, and then anchored. it is the custom to anchor or tie up at night unless there is a good moon or very clear starlight. an hour after we anchored the stars became so bright that we proceeded and ran until daylight, reaching mariensk at two in the morning. i had designed calling upon two gentlemen and a lady at mariensk, but it is not the fashion in russia to make visits between midnight and daybreak. borasdine had the claim of old acquaintance and waked a friend for a little talk. this town is at the entrance of keezee lake, and next to nicolayevsk is the oldest russian settlement on the lower amoor. it was founded by the russian american company in the same year with nicolayevsk, and was a trading post until the military occupation of the river. difficulties of navigation have diminished its military importance, the principal rendezvous of this region being transferred to sofyesk. on an island opposite mariensk is the trace of a fortification built by stepanoff, a russian adventurer who descended the amoor in . stepanoff passed the winter at this point, and fortified himself to be secure against the natives. he seems to have engaged in a general business of filibustering on joint account of himself and his government. in the winter of his residence at this fortress he collected nearly five thousand sable skins as a tribute to his emperor--and himself. morning found us at sofyesk taking a fresh supply of wood. this town was founded a few years ago, and has a decided appearance of newness. there is a wagon road along the shore of keezee lake and across the hills to de castries bay. light draft steamboats can go within twelve miles of de castries. surveys have been made with the design of connecting keezee lake and the gulf of tartary by a canal. a railway has also been proposed, but neither enterprise will be undertaken for many years. i passed an hour with the post commander, who had just received a pile of papers only two months from st. petersburg, the mail having arrived the day before. the steamer telegraph lay at the landing when we arrived; among her passengers was a manjour merchant, who possessed an intelligent face, quite in contrast with the sleepy gilyaks. he wore the manjour dress, consisting of wide trowsers and a long robe reaching to his heels; his shoes and hat were chinese, and his robe was held at the waist with a silk cord. his hair was braided in the chinese fashion, and he sported a long mustache but no beard. [illustration: manjour merchant.] a few versts above sofyesk we met a manjour merchant evidently on a trading expedition. he had a boat about twenty-five feet long by eight wide, with a single mast carrying a square sail. his boat was full of boxes and bales and had a crew of four men. a small skiff was towed astern and another alongside. these manjour merchants are quite enterprising, and engage in traffic for small profits and large risks when better terms are not attainable. before the russian occupation all the trade of the lower amoor was in manjour hands. boats annually descended from san-sin and igoon bringing supplies for native use. sometimes a merchant would spend five or six months making his round journey. the merchants visited the villages on the route and bargained their goods for furs. there was an annual fair at the gilyak village of pul, below mariensk, and this was made the center of commerce. the fair lasted ten days, and during that time pul was a miniature nijne novgorod. manjour and chinese merchants met japanese from the island of sakhalin, tunguse from the coast of the ohotsk sea, and others from, the head waters of the zeya and amgoon. there were gilyaks from the lower amoor and various tribes of natives from the coast of manjouria. a dozen languages were spoken, and traffic was conducted in a patois of all the dialects. cloth, powder, lead, knives, and brandy were exchanged for skins and furs. a gentleman who attended one of these fairs told me that the scene was full of interest and abounded in amusing incidents. of late years the navigation of the amoor has discontinued the fair of pul. the manjour traders still descend the river, but they are not as numerous as of yore. with a good glass from the deck of the steamer i watched the native process of catching salmon. the fishing stations are generally, though not always, near the villages. the natives use gill nets and seines in some localities, and scoop nets in others. sometimes they build a fence at right angles to the shore, and extend it twenty or thirty yards into the stream. this fence is fish-proof, except in a few places where holes are purposely left. the natives lie in wait with skiffs and hand-nets and catch the salmon, as they attempt to pass these holes. i watched a gilyak taking fish in this way, and think he dipped them up at the rate of two a minute; when the fish are running well a skiff can be filled in a short time. sometimes pens of wicker work are fixed to enclose the fish after they pass the holes in the fence. the salmon in this case has a practical illustration of life in general: easy to get into trouble but difficult to get out of it. [illustration: gilyak man.] for catching sturgeon they use a circular net five feet across at the opening, and shaped like a shallow bag. one side of the mouth is fitted with corks and the other with weights of lead or iron. two canoes in mid stream hold this net between them, at right angles to the current. the sturgeon descending the river enters the trap, and the net proceeds of the enterprise are divided between the fishermen. it requires vision or a guide to find a fishing station, but the sense of smell is quite sufficient to discover where salmon are dressed and cured. the offal from the fish creates an unpleasant stench and no effort is made to clear it away. the natives and their dogs do not consider the scent disagreeable and have no occasion to consult the tastes or smell of others. the first time i visited one of their fish-curing places i thought of the western city that had, after a freshet, 'forty-five distinct and different odors beside several wards to hear from.' above mariensk the amoor valley is often ten or twenty miles wide, enclosing whole labyrinths of islands, some of great extent. these islands are generally well out of water and not liable to overflow. very few have the temporary appearance of the islands of the lower mississippi. here and there were small islands of slight elevation and covered with cottonwoods, precisely like those growing between memphis and cairo. [illustration: gilyak woman.] the banks of this part of the amoor do not wash like the alluvial lands along the mississippi and missouri, but are more like the shores of the ohio. they are generally covered with grass or bushes down to the edge of the water. there are no shifting sand-bars to perplex the pilot, but the channel remains with little change from year to year. i saw very little drift wood and heard no mention of snags. the general features of the scenery were much like those below mihalofski. the numerous islands and the labyrinth of channels often permit boats to pass each other without their captains knowing it. one day we saw a faint line of smoke across an island three or four miles wide; watching it closely i found it was in motion and evidently came from a descending steamboat. on another occasion we missed in these channels a boat our captain was desirous of hailing. once while general monravieff was ascending the river he was passed by a courier who was bringing him important despatches. [illustration: night scene--group of peasants] the pilot steers with a chart of the river before him, and relies partly upon his experience and partly upon the delineated route. sometimes channels used at high water are not navigable when the river is low, and some are favorable for descent but not for ascent. in general the pilotage is far more facile than on the mississippi, and accidents are not frequent. the peasants always came to the bank where we stopped, no matter what the hour. at one place where we took wood at night there was a picturesque group of twenty-five or thirty gathered around a fire; men and women talking, laughing, smoking, and watching the crew at work. the light, of the fire poured full upon a few figures and brought them into strong relief, while others were half hidden in shadow. of the men some wore coats of sheepskin, others cossack coats of grey cloth; some had caps of faded cloth, and others tartar caps of black sheepskin. red beards, white beards, black beards, and smooth faces were played upon by the dancing flames. the women, were in hoopless dresses, and held shawls over their heads in place of bonnets. a hundred versts above sofyesk the scenery changed. the mountains on the south bank receded from the river and were more broken and destitute of trees. wide strips of lowland covered with forest intervened between the mountains and the shore. on the north the general character of the country remained. i observed a mountain, wooded to the top and sloping regularly, that had a curious formation at its summit. it was a perpendicular shaft resembling bunker hill monument, and rising from the highest point of the mountain; it appeared of perfect symmetry, and seemed more like a work of art than of nature. on the same mountain, half way down its side, was a mass of rock with towers and buttresses that likened it to a cathedral. these formations were specially curious, as there were no more of the kind in the vicinity. borasdine observed the rocks soon after i discovered them, and at first thought they were ancient monuments. there were many birds along the shore. very often we dispersed flocks of ducks and sent them flying over islands and forests to places of safety. snipe were numerous, and so were several kinds of wading and swimming birds. very often we saw high in air the wild geese of siberia flying to the southward in those triangular squadrons that they form everywhere over the world. these birds winter in the south of china, siam, and india, while they pass the summer north of the range of the yablonoi mountains. the birds of the amoor belong generally to the species found in the same latitudes of europe and america, but there are some birds of passage that are natives of southern asia, japan, the philippine islands, and even south africa and australia. seven-tenths of the birds of the amoor are found in europe, two-tenths in siberia, and one-tenth in regions further south. some birds belong more properly to america, such as the canada woodcock and the water ouzel; and there are several birds common to the east and west coasts of the pacific. the naturalists who came here at the russian occupation found two australian birds on the amoor, two from tropical and sub-tropical africa, and one from southern asia. the number of stationary birds is not great, in consequence of the excessive cold in winter. mr. maack enumerates thirty-nine species that dwell here the entire year. they include eagles, hawks, jays, magpies, crows, grouse, owls, woodpeckers, and some others. the birds of passage generally arrive at the end of april or during may, and leave in september or october. it is a curious fact that they come later to nicolayevsk than to the town of yakutsk, nine degrees further north. this is due to differences of climate and the configuration of the country. the lower amoor is remarkable for its large quantities of snow, and at nicolayevsk it remains on the ground till the end of may. south of the lower amoor are the shanalin mountains, which arrest the progress of birds. on the upper amoor and in trans-baikal very little snow falls, and there are no mountains of great height. the day after leaving sofyesk i observed a native propelling a boat by pulling both oars together. on my expressing surprise my companion said: "we have passed the country of the gilyaks who pull their oars alternately, and entered that of the mangoons and goldees. the manner of rowing distinguishes the gilyaks from all others." the mangoons, goldees, and gilyaks differ in much the same way that the tribes of american indians are different. they are all of tungusian or mongolian stock, and have many traits and words in common. their features have the same general characteristics and their languages are as much alike as those of a cheyenne and comanche. each people has its peculiar customs, such as the style of dress, the mode of constructing a house, or rowing a boat. all are pagans and indulge in shamanism, but each tribe has forms of its own. all are fishers and hunters, their principal support being derived from the river. the goldee boat was so much like a gilyak one that i could see no difference. there was no opportunity to examine it closely, as we passed at a distance of two or three hundred feet. besides their boats of wood the goldees make canoes of birch bark, quite broad in the middle and coming to a point at both ends. in general appearance these canoes resemble those of the penobscot and canadian indians. the native sits in the middle of his canoe and propels himself with a double-bladed oar, which he dips into the water with regular alternations from one side to the other. the canoes are flat bottomed and very easy to overturn. a canoe is designed to carry but one man, though two can be taken in an emergency. when a native sitting in one of them spears a fish he moves only his arm and keeps his body motionless. at the russian village of gorin there was an ispravnik who had charge of a district containing nineteen villages with about fifteen hundred inhabitants. at gorin the river is two or three miles wide, and makes a graceful bend. we landed near a pile of ash logs awaiting shipment to nicolayevsk. the ispravnik was kind enough to give me the model of a goldee canoe about eighteen inches long and complete in all particulars. it was made by one anaka katonovitch, chief of an ancient goldee family, and authorized by the emperor of china to wear the uniform of a mandarin. the canoe was neatly formed, and reflected favorably upon the skill of its designer. i boxed it carefully and sent it to nicolayevsk for shipment to america. the ispravnik controlled the district between habarofka and sofyesk on both banks of the river, his power extending over native and russian alike. he said that this part of the amoor valley was very fertile, the yield of wheat and rye being fifteen times the seed. the principal articles cultivated were wheat, rye, hemp, and garden vegetables, and he thought the grain product of in his district would be thirty thousand poods of wheat and the same of rye. with a population of fifteen hundred in a new country, this result was very good. the goldees do not engage in agriculture as a business. now and then there was a small garden, but it was of very little importance. since the russian occupation the natives have changed their allegiance from china to the 'white czar,' as they call the muscovite emperor. formerly they were much oppressed by the manjour officials, who displayed great rapacity in collecting tribute. it was no unusual occurrence for a native to be tied up and whipped to compel him to bring out all his treasures. the goldees call the manjours 'rats,' in consequence of their greediness and destructive powers. the goldees are superior to the gilyaks in numbers and intelligence, and the manjours of igoon and vicinity are in turn superior to the goldees. the chinese are more civilized than the manjours, and call the latter 'dogs.' the manjours take revenge by applying the epithet to the goldees, and these transfer it to mangoons and gilyaks. the mangoons are not in large numbers, and live along the river between the gilyaks and goldees. many of the russian officials include them with the latter, and the captain of the ingodah was almost unaware of their existence. a peculiar kind of fence employed by the russian settlers on this part of the amoor attracted my attention. stakes were driven into the ground a foot apart and seven feet high. willow sticks were then woven between these stakes in a sort of basket work. the fence was impervious to any thing larger than a rat, and no sensible man would attempt climbing it, unless pursued by a bull or a sheriff, as the upper ends of the sticks were very sharp and about as convenient to sit upon as a row of harrow-teeth. it reminded me of a fence in an american village where i once lived, that an enterprising fruit-grower had put around his orchard,--a structure of upright pickets, and each picket armed with a nail in the top. one night four individuals bent on stealing apples, were confronted by the owner and a bull-dog and forced to surrender or leap the fence. three of them were "treed" by the dog; the fourth sprang over the fence, but left the seat of his trousers and the rear section of his shirt, the latter bearing in indelible ink the name of the wearer. the circumstantial evidence was so strong against him that he did not attempt an alibi, and he was unable to sit down for nearly a fortnight. [illustration: tail piece--the net] chapter xiv. i took the first opportunity to enter a goldee house and study the customs of the people. a goldee dwelling for permanent habitation has four walls and a roof. the sides and ends are of hewn boards or small poles made into a close fence, which is generally double and has a space six or eight inches wide filled with grass and leaves. inside and out the dwelling is plastered with mud, and the roofs are thatch or bark held in place by poles and stones. sometimes they are entirely of poles. the doors are of hewn plank, and can be fastened on the inside. the dwellings are from fifteen to forty feet square, according to the size of the family. in one i found a grandfather and his descendants; thirty persons at least. there are usually two windows, made of fish skin or thin paper over lattices. some windows were closed with mats that could be rolled up or lowered at will. the fire-place has a deep pan or kettle fixed over it, and there is room for a pot suspended from a rafter. around the room is a divan, or low bench of boards or wicker work, serving as a sofa by day and a bed at night. when dogs are kept in the house a portion of the divan belongs to them, and among the mangoons there is a table in the center specially reserved for feeding the dogs. i found the floors of clay, smooth and hard. near the fire-place a little fire of charcoal is kept constantly burning in a shallow hole. pipes are lighted at this fire, and small things can be warmed over it. household articles were hung upon the rafters and cross beams, and there was generally a closet for table ware and other valuables. the cross-beams were sufficiently close to afford stowage room for considerable property. fish-nets, sledges, and canoes were the most bulky articles i saw there. part of one wall was reserved for religious purposes, and covered with bear-skulls and bones, horse-hair, wooden idols, and pieces of colored cloth. occasionally there were badly-painted pictures, purchased from the chinese at enormous prices. sometimes poles shaped like small idols are fixed before the houses. a goldee house is warmed by means of wooden pipes under the divan and passing out under ground to a chimney ten or fifteen feet from the building. great economy is shown in using fuel and great care against conflagrations. i was not able to stand erect in any goldee houses i entered. like all people of the mongolian race, the natives pretended to have little curiosity. when we landed at their villages many continued their occupations and paid no attention to strangers. above gorin a goldee gentleman took me into his house, where a woman placed a mat on the divan and motioned me to a seat. the man tendered me a piece of dried fish, which i ate out of courtesy to my hosts. several children gathered to look at me, but retired on a gesture from _pater familias_. i am not able to say if the fact that my eyes were attracted to a pretty girl of seventeen had anything to do with the dispersal of the group. curiosity dwells in mongol breasts, but the asiatics, like our indians, consider its exhibition in bad taste. outside this man's house there were many scaffoldings for drying fish. a tame eagle was fastened with a long chain to one of the scaffolds; he was supposed to keep other birds away and was a pet of his owner. there were many dogs walking or lying around loose, while others were tied to the posts that supported the scaffolds. the dogs of the goldees are very intelligent. one morning mr. maack missed his pots which he had left the night before full of meat. after some search they were found in the woods near the village, overturned and empty. several dogs were prowling about and had evidently committed the theft. fearing to be interrupted at their meal they carried the pots where they could eat at leisure. while steaming up the river i frequently saw temporary dwellings of poles and bark like our indian wigwams. these were at the fishing stations upon sand bars or low islands. the afternoon following our departure from gorin i counted about thirty huts, or _yourts_, on one island, and more than fifty boats on the river. for half a mile the scene was animated and interesting. some boats were near the shore, their inmates hauling seines or paddling up or down the stream. in one heavily laden boat there was one man steering with a paddle. four men towed the craft against the current, and behind it was another drawn by six dogs. out in the river were small skiffs and canoes in couples, engaged in holding nets across the direction of the current. the paddles wore struck regularly and slowly to prevent drifting down the stream. [illustration: ten miles an hour.] one boat with two men rowing and another steering attempted a race with the steamer and fairly passed us, though we were making ten miles an hour. all these natives are very skillful in managing their boats. when we passed near a boat we were greeted with '_mendow, mendow,'_ the mongol word of welcome. sometimes we were hailed with the russian salutation of '_sdrastveteh_.' in one boat i saw a goldee belle dressed with considerable taste and wearing a ring in the cartilage of her nose. how powerful are the mandates of fashion! this damsel would scorn to wear her pendants after the manner of paris and new york, while the ladies of broadway and the boulevards would equally reject the goldee custom. the natives of this part of the amoor have a three-pronged spear like a neptune's trident, and handle it with much dexterity. the spear-head is attached to a long line, and when a fish is struck the handle is withdrawn. the fish runs out the line, which is either held in the hand or attached to a bladder floating on the water. ropes and nets are made from hemp and the common sting nettle, the latter being preferred. the nettle-stalks are soaked in water and then dried and pounded till the fibres separate. ropes and cords are equal to those of civilized manufacture, though sometimes not quite as smooth. thread for sewing and embroidery comes from china, and is purchased of manjour traders. the night after we left gorin the boat took wood at the village of doloe. it was midnight when we arrived, and as i walked through the village nearly all the inhabitants were sleeping. the only perambulating resident was very drunk and manifested a desire to embrace me, but as i did not know his language and could not claim relationship i declined the honor. near the river there was a large building for government stores and a smaller one for the men guarding it. a few hundred yards distant there was a goldee village, and for want of something better borasdine proposed that we should call on one of its inhabitants. we took a russian peasant to guide and introduce us, our credentials and passports having been left on the steamer. as we approached the first house we were greeted by at least a dozen dogs. they barked on all keys and our guide thought it judicious to provide himself with a stick; but i must do the brutes the justice to say that they made no attempt at dentistry upon our legs. some of them were large enough to consume ten pounds of beef at a sitting, and some too small for any but ornamental purposes. the door was not locked and the peasant entered without warning, while we stood outside among the dogs. our guide aroused the chief of the establishment and made a light; a strip of birch bark was used, and it took a good deal of blowing on the fire coals before a flame was produced. when we entered we found the proprietor standing in a short garment and rubbing his oblique eyes to get himself thoroughly awake. near the place he had vacated, the lady of the house was huddled under a coverlid about as large as a postage stamp, and did not appear encumbered with much clothing. three or four others had waked and made some attempt to cover themselves. at least a dozen remained asleep and lay in a charming condition of nudity. the goldee houses are heated to a high degree, and their inmates sleep without clothing. the delay in admitting us was to permit the head of the house to dress in reception costume, which he did by putting on his shirt. after wishing this aboriginal a long and happy life, and thanking him for his courtesy, we departed. i bumped my head against the rafters both in entering and leaving, and found considerable difference between the temperature in the house and out of it. the peasant offered to guide us to visit more goldees, but we returned to the boat and retired to sleep. the russian peasants and the natives live in perfect harmony and are of mutual advantage and assistance. the peasant furnishes the native with salt, flour, and other things, while the latter catches fish, enough for both. each has a peaceable disposition, and i was told that quarrels were of rare occurrence. the chinese call the natives _yu-pi-ta-tze_, which in english means 'wearers of fish-skins.' i saw many garments of fish-skins, most of them for summer use. the operation of preparing them is quite simple. the skins are dried and afterward pounded, the blows making them flexible and removing the scales. this done they are ready to be sewn into garments. [illustration: a goldee house] a coat of this material embroidered and otherwise decorated is far from ugly, and sheds water like india rubber. fish skins are used in making sails for boats and for the windows of houses. a russian who had worn a goldee coat said it was both warm and waterproof, and he suggested that it would be well to adopt fish-skin garments in america. the goldees and mangoons practice shamanism in its general features, and have a few customs peculiar to themselves. at a goldee village i saw a man wearing a wooden representation of an arm, and learned that it is the practice to wear amulets to cure disease, the amulet being shaped like the part affected. a lame person carries a small leg of wood, an individual suffering from dyspepsia a little stomach, and so on through a variety of disorders. a hypochondriac who thought himself afflicted all over had covered himself with these wooden devices, and looked like a museum of anatomy on its travels. i thought the custom not unknown in america, as i had seen ladies in new york wearing hearts of coral and other substances on their watch-chains. evidently the fashion comes from l'amour. [illustration: the hypochondriac.] the morning after leaving doloe we had a rain-storm with high wind that blew us on a lee shore. the river was four or five miles wide where the gale caught us, and the banks on both sides were low. the islands in this part of the river were numerous and extensive. at one place there are three channels, each a mile and a half wide and all navigable. from one bank to the other straight across the islands is a distance of nineteen miles. the wind and weather prevented our making much progress on that day; as the night was cloudy we tied up near a russian village and economised the darkness by taking wood. at a peasant's house near the landing four white-headed children were taking their suppers of bread and soup under the supervision of their mother. light was furnished from an apparatus like a fishing jack attached to the wall; every few minutes the woman fed it with a splinter of pine wood. very few of the peasants on the amoor can afford the expense of candles, and as they rarely have fire-places they must burn pine splinters in this way. along the amoor nearly every peasant house contains hundreds, and i think thousands, of cockroaches. they are quiet in the day but do not fail to make themselves known at night. the table where these children were eating swarmed with them, and i can safely say there wore five dozen on a space three feet square. they ran everywhere about the premises except into the fire. walls, beds, tables, and floors were plentifully covered with these disagreeable insects. the russians do not appear to mind them, and probably any one residing in that region would soon be accustomed to their presence. occasionally they are found in bread and soup, and do not improve the flavor. life on the steamboat was a trifle monotonous, but i found something new daily. our steward (who is called _boofetchee_ in russian) brought me water for washing when i rose in the morning, and the samovar with tea when i was dressed. borasdine rose about the time i did and joined me at tea. then we had breakfast of beef and bread with potatoes about eleven or twelve o'clock, and dinner at six. the intervals between meals were variously filled. i watched the land, talked with borasdine, read, wrote, smoked, and contemplated the steward, but never imagined him a disguised angel. i looked at the steerage passengers and the crew, and think their faces are pretty well fixed in memory. had i only been able to converse in russian i should have found much more enjoyment. as for the cook it is needless to say that i never penetrated the mysteries of his realm. little games of cards wore played daily by all save myself; i used to look on occasionally but never learned the games. one of the russian games at cards is called poker, and is not much unlike that seductive amusement so familiar to the united states. whence it came i could not ascertain, but it was probably taken there by some enterprising american. some years ago a western actor who was able to play hamlet, richelieu, richard iii., claude melnotte, and draw-poker, made his way to australia, where he delighted the natives with his dramatic genius. but though he drew crowded houses his cash box was empty, as the treasurer stole the most of the receipts. he did not discharge him as there was little prospect of finding a better man in that country; but he taught him draw-poker, borrowed five dollars to start the game, and then every morning won from the treasurer the money taken at the door on the previous night. as we approached the ousuree there was a superior magnificence in the forest. the trees on the southern bank grew to an enormous size in comparison, with those lower down the river. naturalists say that within a short distance in this region may be found all the trees peculiar to the amoor. some of them are three or four feet in diameter and very tall and straight. the elm and larch attain the greatest size, while the ash and oak are but little inferior. the cork-tree is two feet through, and the maackia--a species of oak with a brown, firm wood--grows to the diameter of a foot or more. in summer the foliage is so dense that the sun's rays hardly penetrate, and there is a thick 'chapparel' that makes locomotion difficult. just below the ousuree the settlers had removed the under growth over a small space and left the trees appearing taller than ever. in a great deal of travel i have never seen a finer forest than on this part of the amoor. i do not remember anything on the lower mississippi that could surpass it. tigers and leopards abound in these forests, and bears are more numerous than agreeable. occasionally one of these animals dines upon a goldee, but the custom is not in favor with the natives. it is considered remarkable that the bengal tiger, belonging properly to a region nearer the equator, should range so far north. on some of its excursions it reaches ° north latitude, and feeds upon reindeer and sables. the valley of the amoor is the only place in the world outside of a menagerie where all these animals are found together. the tropical ones go farther north and the arctic ones farther south than elsewhere. it is the same with the vegetable kingdom. the mahogany and cork tree grow here, and the bark of the latter is largely used by the natives. on the slopes of the mountains a few miles away are the siberian pine, the ayan spruce, and here and there a larch tree. cedars and fir trees are abundant and grow to a great size. the whole appearance of the region is one of luxuriance and fertility. the mouth of the ousuree is a mile wide, and the stream is said to be magnificent through its whole length. its sources are in latitude °, and its length is about five hundred miles. while i was at nicolayevsk admiral fulyelm said to me: "i have just returned from a voyage on the ousuree. it is one of the loveliest rivers i ever saw. the valley bears such a resemblance to a settled country with alternate parks and open country that i almost looked to see some grand old mansion at every bend of the stream." a little past noon we sighted the town and military post of habarofka at the mouth of the ousuree. it stands on a promontory overlooking both rivers, and presents a pleasing appearance from the amoor. the portion first visible included the telegraph office and storehouses, near which a small steamer was at anchor. a manjour trading boat was at the bank, its crew resting on shore; a piece of canvas had been spread on the ground and the men were lounging upon it. one grave old personage, evidently the owner of the boat, waved his hand toward us in a dignified manner, but we could not understand his meaning. coming to shore we narrowly missed running over a goldee boat that crossed our track. our wheel almost touched the stern of the craft as we passed it, but the occupants appeared no wise alarmed. two women were rowing and a man steering, while a man and a boy were idle in the bow. a baby, strapped into a shallow cradle, lay in the bottom of the boat near the steersman. the young mongol was holding his thumb in his mouth and appeared content with his position. the town was in a condition of rawness like a western city in its second year; there was one principal street and several smaller ones, regularly laid out. as in all the russian settlements on the amoor the houses were of logs and substantially built. passing up the principal street we found a store, where we purchased a quantity of canned fruit, meats, and pickles. [illustration: "none for joe."] these articles were from boston, new york, and baltimore, and had american labels. the pictures of poaches, strawberries, and other fruits printed on the labels were a great convenience to the russian clerk who served us. he could not read english, but understood pictorial representations. on the boat we gave the cans to the steward, to be opened when we ordered. the pictures were especially adapted to this youth as he read no language whatever, including his own. on one occasion a quantity of devilled turkey was put up in cans and sent to the amoor, and the label was beautified with a picture of his satanic majesty holding a turkey on the end of a fork. the natives supposed that the devil was in the cans and refused to touch them. the supply was sent back to nicolayevsk, where it was eaten by the american merchants. accompanying borasdine i called upon the officer in command. we were ushered through two or three small rooms into the principal apartment, which contained a piano of french manufacture. three or four officers and as many ladies enabled us to pass an hour very pleasantly till the steam whistle recalled us, but we did not leave until two hours after going on board. two or three men had been allowed on shore and were making themselves comfortable in a _lafka_. two others went for them, but as they did not return within an hour the police went to search for both parties. when all were brought to the steamer it was difficult to say it the last were not first--in intoxication. several passengers left us at habarofka, among them the black eyed girl that attracted the eyes of one or two passengers in the cabin; as we departed she stood on the bank and waved us an adieu. in the freight taken at this point there were fifteen chairs of local manufacture; they were piled in the cabin and did not leave us much space, when we considered the number and size of the fleas. on my first night on the ingodah the fleas did not disturb me as i came after visiting hours and was not introduced. on all subsequent nights they were persevering and relentless; i was bitten until portions of my body appeared as if recovering from a polynesian tattoo. they used to get inside my under clothing by some mysterious way and when there they walked up and down like sentries on duty and bit at every other step. it was impossible to flee from them, and they appointed their breakfasts and lunches at times most inconvenient to myself. if i were emperor of russia i would issue a special edict expelling fleas from my dominions and ordering that the labor expended in scratching should be devoted to agriculture or the mechanic arts. i suggested that the engines should be removed from the ingodah and a treadmill erected for the fleas to propel the boat. there have been exhibitions where fleas were trained to draw microscopic coaches and perform other fantastic tricks; but whatever their ability i would wager that the insects on that steamboat could not be outdone in industry by any other fleas in the world. one of my standard amusements was to have a grand hunt for these lively insects just before going to bed, and i have no doubt that the exercise assisted to keep me in good health. i used to remove my clothing, which i turned inside out and shook very carefully. then i bathed from head to foot in some villainous brandy that no respectable flea would or could endure; after this ablution was ended, i donned my garments, wrapped in my blanket, and proceeded to dream that i was a hen with thirteen chickens, and doomed to tear up an acre of ground for their support. [illustration: tail piece--scene on the river] chapter xv. when i rose in the morning after leaving habarofka the steward was ready with his usual pitcher of water and basin. in siberia they have a novel way of performing ablutions. they rarely furnish a wash-bowl, but in place of it bring a large basin of brass or other metal. if you wish to wash hands or face the basin is placed where you can lean over it. a servant pours from a pitcher into your hands, and if you are skillful you catch enough water to moisten your face. frequently the peasants have a water-can attached to the wall of the house in some out-of-the-way locality. the can has a valve in the bottom opened from below like a trapdoor in a roof. by lifting a brass pin that projects from this valve one can fill his hands with water without the aid of a servant. while i was arranging my toilet the steward pointed out of the cabin window and uttered the single word "kitie"--emphasizing the last syllable. i looked where he directed and had my first view of the chinese empire. "kitie" is the russian name of china, and is identical with the cathay of marco polo and other early travelers. i could not see any difference between kitie on one hand and russia on the other; there were trees and bushes, grass and sand, just as on the opposite shore. in the region immediately above the ousuree there are no mountains visible from the river, but only the low banks on either hand covered with trees and bushes. here and there were open spaces appearing as if cleared for cultivation. with occasional sand bars and low islands, and the banks frequently broken and shelving, the resemblance to the lower mississippi was almost perfect. mr. maack says of this region: "in the early part of the year when the yellow blossoms of the lonicera chrysantha fill the air with their fragrance, when the syringas bloom and the hylonecon bedecks large tracts with a bright golden hue, when corydales, violets, and pasque flowers are open, the forests near the ousuree may bear comparison in variety of richness and coloring with the open woods of the prairie country. later in the year, the scarcity of flowers is compensated by the richness of the herbage, and after a shower of rain delicious perfumes are wafted towards us from the tops of the walnut and cork trees." a little past noon we touched at the russian village of petrovsky. at this place the river was rapidly washing the banks, and i was told that during three years nearly four hundred feet in front of the village had been carried away. the single row of houses forming the settlement stands with a narrow street between it and the edge of the bank. the whole population, men, women, and children, turned out to meet us. the day was cool and the men were generally in their sheepskin coats. the women wore gowns of coarse cloth of different colors, and each had a shawl over her head. some wore coats of sheepskin like those of the men, and several were barefooted. two women walked into the river and stood with utter nonchalance where the water was fifteen inches deep. i immersed my thermometer and found it indicated °. walking on shore i was nearly overturned by a small hog running between my legs. the brute, with a dozen of his companions, had pretty much his own way at petrovsky, and after this introduction i was careful about my steps. these hogs are modelled something like blockade runners: with great length, narrow beam, and light draft. they are capable of high speed, and would make excellent time if pursued by a bull-dog or pursuing a swill-bucket. [illustration: reception at petrovsky.] a peasant told us there were wild geese in a pond near by, and as the boat remained an hour or more to take wood, borasdine and i improvised a hunting excursion. it proved in every sense a wild-goose chase, as the birds flew away before we were in shooting distance. not wishing to return empty-handed we purchased two geese a few hundred yards from the village, and assumed an air of great dignity as we approached the boat. we subsequently ascertained that the same geese were offered to the steward for half the price we paid. just above petrovsky we passed the steamer amoor, which left nicolayevsk a week before us with three barges in tow. with such a heavy load her progress was very slow. barges on the amoor river are generally built of iron, and nearly as large as the steamers. they are not towed alongside as on the mississippi, but astern. the rope from the steamer to the first barge is about two hundred feet long, and the barges follow each other at similar distances. looking at this steamer struggling against the current and impeded by the barges, brought to mind pope's needless alexandrine: "that, like a wounded snake, drags its slow length along." each barge has a crew, subordinate, of course, to the captain of the tow-boat. this crew steers the barge in accordance with the course of the steamer, looks after its welfare, and watches over the freight on board. in case it fastens on a sand bar the crew remains with it, and sometimes has the pleasure of wintering there. the barge is decked like a ship, and has two or three hatchways for receiving and discharging freight. over each hatchway is a derrick that appears at a distance not unlike a mast. above petrovsky the banks generally retain their level character on the russian side. cliffs and hills frequently extend to the water on the chinese shore, most of the land being covered with forests of foliferous trees. some of the mountains are furrowed along their sides as regularly as if turned with a gigantic plow. near the villages of ettoo and dyrki the cliffs are precipitous and several hundred feet high; at their base the water is deep and the current very strong. on the north shore the plain is generally free from tall trees, but has a dense growth of grass and bushes. sand-banks are frequent, and the islands are large and numerous. this region is much frequented during the fishing season, and the huts of the natives, their canoes and drying scaffolds are quite numerous. there are but few fixed villages, the country not being desirable for permanent habitation. near one village there was a gently sloping hillside about a mile square with a forest of oak so scattered that it had a close resemblance to an american apple-orchard. the treaty between russia and china, fixing the boundaries between the two empires, contains a strange oversight. dated on the th of november, , it says: "henceforth the eastern frontier between the two empires shall commence from the junction of the rivers shilka and argoon, and will follow the course of the river amoor to the junction of the river ousuree with the latter. the land on the left bank (to the north) of the river amoor belongs to the empire of russia, and the territory on the right bank (to the south) to the junction of the river ousuree, to the empire of china." the treaty further establishes the boundaries from the mouth of the ousuree to the sea of japan, and along the western region toward central asia. it provides for commissioners to examine the frontier line. it declares that trade shall be free of duty along the entire line, and removes all commercial restrictions. it gives the merchants of kiachta the right of going to pekin, oorga, and kalgan; allows a russian consulate at oorga, and permits russian merchants to travel anywhere in china. it annuls former treaties, and establishes a postal arrangement between pekin and kiachta. i presume the oversight in the treaty was on the part of the chinese, as the russians are too shrewd in diplomacy to omit any point of advantage. nothing is said about the land in the amoor. "the land on the north bank is russian, and on the south bank chinese." what is to be the nationality of the islands in the river? some of them are large enough to hold a population of importance, or be used, as the sites of fortifications. there are duchies and principalities in europe of less territorial extent than some islands of the amoor. when russia desires them she will doubtless extend her protection, and i observed during my voyage that several islands were occupied by russian settlers for hay-cutting and other purposes. why could not an enterprising man of destiny like the grey-eyed walker or unhappy maximilian penetrate the amoor and found a new government on an island that nobody owns? quite likely his adventure would result like the conquests of mexico and nicaragua, but this probability should not cause a man of noble blood to hesitate. below the ousuree the russian villages were generally on the south bank of the river, but after passing that stream i found them all on the north side. the villages tributary to china consisted only of the settlements of goldees and mangoons, or their temporary fishing stations. the chinese empire contains much territory still open to colonization, and i imagine that it would be to the interest of the celestial government to scatter its population more evenly over its dominions. possibly it does not wish to send its subjects into regions that may hereafter fall into the hands of the emperor of russia. there is a great deal of land in manjouria adapted to agriculture, richly timbered and watered, but containing a very small population. millions of people could find homes where there are now but a few thousands. a russian village and military post seventeen miles below the mouth of the songaree is named michael semenof, in honor of the governor general of eastern siberia. we landed before the commandant's house, where two iron guns pointed over the river in the direction of china. however threatening they appeared i was informed they were unserviceable for purposes of war, and only employed in firing salutes. a military force was maintained there, and doubtless kept a sharp watch over the chinese frontier. the soldiers appeared under good sanitary regulations, and the quarters of the commandant indicated an appreciation of the comforts of life. the peasants that gathered on the bank were better dressed than those of petrovsky and other villages. the town is on a plain covered with a scattered growth of oaks. below this place the wood furnished us was generally ash or poplar; here it was oak, somewhat gnarly and crooked, but very good for steamboat fuel. one design of the colonization of the amoor is to furnish a regular supply of wood to the government steamers. the peasants cut the wood and bring it to the bank of the river. private steamers pay cash for what they purchase; the captains of the government boats gives vouchers for the wood they take, and these vouchers are redeemed at the end of the season of navigation. about sixty thousand roubles worth of wood is consumed annually by government, and twelve thousand on private account. while the boat took wood borasdine and i resumed our hunting, he carrying a shot-gun and i an opera glass; with this division of labor we managed to bag a single snipe and kill another, which was lost in the river. my opera glass was of assistance in finding the birds in the grass; they were quite abundant almost within rifle-shot of town, and it seemed strange that the officers of the post did not devote their leisure to snipe hunting. our snipe was cooked, for dinner, and equalled any i ever saw at delmonico's. we had a wild goose at the same meal, and after a careful trial i can pronounce the siberian goose an edible bird. he is not less cunning than wild geese elsewhere, but with all his adroitness he frequently falls into the hands of man and graces his dinner table. on the northern horizon, twenty or thirty miles from michael semenof, there is a range of high and rugged mountains. as we left the town, near the close of day, the clouds broke in the west and the sunshine lighted up these mountains and seemed to lift them above their real position. with the red and golden colors of the clouds; the lights and shadows of the mountains; the yellow forests of autumn, and the green plains near the river; the stillness broken only by our own motion or the rippling of the river, the scene was 'most fair to look upon.' i have never seen sunsets more beautiful than those of the amoor. [illustration: armed and equipped.] i rose early in the morning to look at the mouth of the songaree. under a cloudy moon i could distinguish little beyond the outline of the land and the long low water line where the amoor and songaree sweep at right angles from their respective valleys. even though it was not daylight i could distinguish the line of separation, or union, between the waters of the two streams, just as one can observe it where the missouri and mississippi unite above saint louis. i would have given much to see this place in full daylight, but the fates willed it otherwise. this river is destined at some time to play an important part in russian and chinese diplomacy. at present it is entirely controlled by china, but it appears on all the late maps of eastern siberia with such minuteness as to indicate that the russians expect to obtain it before long. formerly the chinese claimed the songaree as the real amoor, and based their argument on the fact that it follows the general course of the united stream and carried a volume of water as large as the other. they have now abandoned this claim, which the russians are entirely willing to concede. once the fact established that the songaree is the real amoor, the russians would turn to the treaty which gives them "all the land north of the amoor." their next step would be to occupy the best part of manjouria, which would be theirs by the treaty. by far the larger portion of manjouria is drained by the songaree and its tributaries. the sources of this river are in the shanalin mountains, that separate corea from manjouria, and are ten or twelve thousand feet high. they resemble the sierra nevadas in having a lake twelve miles in circumference as high in air as lake tahoe. the affluents of the songaree run through a plateau in some places densely wooded while in others it has wide belts of prairie and marshy ground. a large part of the valley consists of low, fertile lands, through which the river winds with very few impediments to navigation. very little is known concerning the valley, but it is said to be pretty well peopled and to produce abundantly. m. de la bruniere when traveling to the country of the gilyaks in , crossed this valley, and found a dense population along the river, but a smaller one farther inland. the principal cities are kirin and sansin on the main stream, and sit-si-gar on the nonni, one of its tributaries. the songaree is navigable to kirin, about thirteen hundred versts from the amoor, and it is thought the nonni can be ascended to sit-si-gar. the three cities have each a population of about a hundred thousand. according to the treaty of russian merchants with proper passports may enter chinese territory, but no more than two hundred can congregate in one locality. russian merchants have been to all the cities in manjouria, but the difficulties of travel are not small. the chinese authorities are jealous of foreigners, and restrict their movements as much as possible. the russians desire to open the songaree to commerce, but the chinese prefer seclusion. a month before my visit a party ascended the river to ascertain its resources. a gentleman told me the chinese used every means except actual force to hinder the progress of the steamer and prevent the explorers seeing much of the country. whenever any one went on shore the people crowded around in such numbers that nothing else could be seen. almost the whole result of the expedition was to ascertain that the river was navigable and its banks well peopled. in the dim light of morning i saw some houses at the junction of the rivers, and learned they were formerly the quarters of a manjour guard. until a military force, with two or three war junks, was kept at the mouth of the songaree to prevent russian boats ascending. mr. maximowicz, the naturalist, endeavored in to explore the river as far as the mouth of the nonni. though his passport was correct, the manjour guard ordered him to stop, and when he insisted upon proceeding the celestial raised his matchlock. maximowicz exhibited a rifle and revolver and forced a passage. he was not molested until within forty miles of san-sin, when the natives came out with flails, but prudently held aloof on seeing the firearms in the boat. finding he could not safely proceed, the gentleman turned about when only twenty-five miles below the city. after passing the songaree i found a flat country with wide prairies on either side of the river. in the forest primeval the trees were dense and large, and where no trees grew the grass was luxuriant. the banks were alluvial and evidently washed by the river during times of freshet. there were many islands, but the windings of the river were more regular than farther down. i saw no native villages and only two or three fishing stations. those acquainted with the river say its banks have fewer inhabitants there than in any other portion. on the russian shore there were only the villages established by government, but notwithstanding its lack of population, the country was beautiful. with towns, plantations, and sugar-mills, it would greatly resemble the region between baton rouge and new orleans. i could perceive that the volume of the river was much diminished above its junction with the songaree. at long and rare intervals snags were visible, but not in the navigable channel. we took soundings with a seven foot pole attached to a rope fastened to the rail of the boat. a man threw the pole as if he were spearing fish, and watched the depth to which it descended. the depth of water was shouted in a monotonous drawl. "_sheiste; sheiste polivinnay; sem; sem polivinnay;_" and so on through the various quantities indicated. i thought the manner more convenient than that in use on some of our western rivers. while smoking a cigar on the bridge i was roused by the cry of "_tigre! tigre_!" from borasdine. i looked to where he pointed on the chinese shore and could see an animal moving slowly through the grass. it may have been a tiger, and so it was pronounced by the russians who saw it; i have never looked upon a real tiger outside of a menagerie, and am not qualified to give an opinion. i brought my opera glass and borasdine iris rifle, but the beast did not again show himself. provoked by this glimpse my companions retired to the cabin and made a theoretical combat with the animal until dinner time. the day was made memorable by a decent dinner; the special reason for it was the fact that borasdine had presented our caterer with an old coat. i regretted i could not afford to reduce my wardrobe, else we would have secured another comfortable repast. both steward and cook were somewhat negligently clad, and possibly a spare garment or two might have opened their hearts and larders. of course the sight of the tiger led to stories about his kindred, and we whiled away a portion of the evening in narrating incidents of a more or less personal character. an officer, who was temporarily our fellow-passenger, on his way to one of the cossack posts, a few miles above, gave an account of his experience with a tiger on the ousuree. i was out (said he) on a survey that we were making on behalf of the government to establish the boundary between russia and china. the country was then less known than now; there were no settlements along the river, and with the exception of the villages of the natives, thirty or forty miles apart, the whole country was a wilderness. at one village we were warned that a large tiger had within a month killed two men and attacked a third, who was saved only by the sudden and unexpected appearance of a party of friends. we prepared our rifles and pistols, to avoid the possibility of their missing fire in case of an encounter with the man-stealing beast. rather reluctantly some of the natives consented to serve us as guides to the next village. we generally found them ready enough to assist us, as we paid pretty liberally for their services, and made love to all the young women that the villages contained. with an eye to a successful campaign, i laid in a liberal supply of trinkets to please these aboriginals, and found that they served their purposes admirably. so the natives were almost universally kind to us, and their reluctance to accompany us on this occasion showed the great fear they entertained of the tiger. we were camped on the bank of the ousuree, about ten miles from the village, and passed the night without disturbance. in the morning, while we were preparing for breakfast, one of the natives went a few hundred yards away, to a little pond near, where he thought it possible to spear some salmon. he waded out till he was immersed to his waist, and then with his spear raised, stood motionless as a statue for several minutes. suddenly he darted the spear into the water and drew out a large salmon, which he threw to the shore, and their resumed his stationary position. in twenty minutes he took three or four salmon, and then started to return to camp. just as he climbed the bank and had gathered his fish, a large tiger darted from the underbrush near by, and sprung upon him as a cat would spring upon a mouse. stopping not a moment, the tiger ran up the hillside and disappeared. i was looking toward the river just as the tiger sprang upon him, and so were two of the natives; we all uttered a cry of astonishment, and were struck motionless for an instant, though only for an instant. the unfortunate man did not struggle with the beast, and as the latter did not stop to do more than seize him, i suspected that the fright and suddenness of the attack had caused a fainting fit. i and my russian companion seized our rifles, and the natives their spears, and started in pursuit. we tracked the tiger through the underbrush, partly by the marks left by his feet, but mainly by the drops of blood that had fallen from his victim. going over a ridge, we lost the trail, and though we spread out and searched very carefully, it was nearly an hour before we could resume the pursuit. every minute seemed an age, as we well knew that the tiger would thus gain time to devour his prey. probably i was less agitated than the natives, but i freely and gladly admit that i have never had my nerves more unstrung than on that occasion, though i have been in much greater peril. we searched through several clumps of bushes, and examined several thickets, in the hope of finding where the tiger had concealed himself. the natives approached all these thickets with fear and trembling, so that most of the searching was done by the russian members of the party. just as we were beating around a little clump of bushes, fifteen or twenty yards across, my companion on the other side shouted: "look out; the tiger is preparing to spring upon you." instantly i cocked my rifle and fired into the bushes; they were so dense that i could hardly discern the outline of the beast, who had me in full view, and was crouching preparatory to making a leap. i called to my friend to shoot, as the density of the thicket made it very probable that my fire would be lost, by the ball glancing among the shrubbery. but my friend was in the same predicament, and i quickly formed a plan of operations. [illustration: general activity.] we were both good shots, and i thought our safety lay in killing the beast as he rose in the air. aiming at his head, i stepped slowly backward, and shouted to my friend to cover the tiger and shoot as he sprang. all this occurred in less time than i tell of it. hardly had i stepped two paces backward when the tiger leaped toward me. as he rose, his throat was exposed for a moment, and i planted a bullet in his breast. simultaneously a ball from the other rifle struck his side. we fired so closely together that neither of us heard the report of the other's weapon. the tiger gave a roar of agony, and despite the wounds he received, either of which would have been fatal, he completed his spring so nearly that he caught me by the foot and inflicted a wound that lamed me for several months, and left permanent scars. the natives, hearing the report of our rifles, came to our assistance, and so great was their reverence for the tiger, that they prostrated themselves before his quivering body, and muttered some words which i could not understand. though assured that the beast was dead, they hesitated to enter the thicket to search for the body of their companion, and it was only on my leading the way that they entered it. we found the remains of the poor native somewhat mutilated, though less so than i expected. there was no trace of suffering upon his features, and i was confirmed in my theory that he fainted the moment he was seized, and was not conscious afterward. his friends insisted upon burying the body where they found it, and said it was their custom to do so. they piled logs above the grave, and after the observance of certain pagan rites, to secure the repose of the deceased, they signified their readiness to proceed. the tiger was one of the largest of his kind. i had his skin carefully removed, and sent it with my official report to st. petersburg. a chinese mandarin who met me near lake hinka offered me a high price for the skin, but i declined his offer, in order to show our emperor what his siberian possessions contained. [illustration: tail piece--flask] chapter xvi. on the morning of september th we arrived at ekaterin-nikolskoi, a flourishing settlement, said to contain nearly three hundred houses. it stood on a plateau forty feet above the river, and was the best appearing village i had seen since leaving habarofka. the people that gathered on the bank were comfortably clad and evidently well fed, but i could not help wondering how so many could leave their labor to look at a steamboat. the country was considered excellent for agriculture, yielding abundantly all the grains that had been tried. on the amoor the country below gorin belongs to the maritime province, which has its capital at nicolayevsk. above gorin is the province of the amoor, controlled by the governor at blagoveshchensk. in the maritime province the settlers are generally of the civilian or peasant class, while in the amoor province they are mostly cossacks. the latter depend more upon themselves than the former, and i was told that this was one cause of their prosperity. many peasants in the maritime province do not raise enough flour for their own use, and rely upon government when there is a deficiency. it is my opinion that the emperor does too much for some of his subjects in the eastern part of his dominions. in kamchatka and along the coast of the ohotsk sea the people are supplied with flour at a low price or for nothing, a ship coming annually to bring it. it has been demonstrated that agriculture is possible in kamchatka. when i asked why rye was not raised there, one reply was: "we get our flour from government, and have no occasion to make it." now if the government would furnish the proper facilities for commencing agriculture, and then throw the inhabitants on their own resources, i think it would make a decided change for the better. a self-reliant population is always the best. some of the colonists on the amoor went there of their own accord, induced by liberal donations of land and materials, while others were moved by official orders. in siberia the government can transfer a population at its will. a whole village may be commanded to move ten, a hundred, or a thousand miles, and it has only to obey. the people gather their property, take their flocks and herds, and move where commanded. they are reimbursed for losses in changing their residence, and the expense of new houses is borne by government. a community may be moved from one place to another, and the settlers find themselves surrounded by their former neighbors. the cossacks are moved oftener than the peasants, as they are more directly subject to orders. i found the cossack villages on the amoor were generally laid out with military precision, the streets where the ground permitted being straight as sunbeams, and the houses of equal size. usually each house had a small yard or flower garden in its front, but it was not always carefully tended. every village has a chief or headman, who assigns each man his location and watches over the general good of his people. when cossacks are demanded for government service the headman makes the selection, and all cases of insubordination or dispute are regulated by him. a cossack is half soldier and half citizen. he owes a certain amount of service to the government, and is required to labor for it a given number of days in the year. he may be called to travel as escort to the mail or to an officer, to watch over public property, to row a boat, construct a house, or perform any other duty in his power. in case of war he becomes a soldier and is sent wherever required. as a servant of government he receives rations for himself and family, but i believe he is not paid in money. the time belonging to himself he can devote to agriculture or any other employment he chooses. the cossacks reside with their families, and some of them acquire considerable property. a russian officer told me there were many wealthy cossacks along the argoon river on the boundary between russia and china. they trade across the frontier, and own large droves of cattle, horses, and sheep. some of their houses are spacious and fitted with considerable attempt at luxury. the amoor settlements are at present too young to possess much wealth. soon after leaving ekaterin-nikolskoi we entered the buryea or hingan mountains. this chain extends across the valley of the amoor at nearly right angles, and the river flows through it in a single narrow defile. the mountains first reach the river on the northern bank, the chinese shore continuing low for thirteen miles higher up. there are no islands, and the river, narrowed to about half a mile, flows with a rapid current. in some places it runs five miles an hour, and its depth is from fifty to a hundred feet. the mountains come to the river on either bank, sometimes in precipitous cliffs, but generally in regular slopes. their elevation is about a thousand feet, and they are covered to their summits with dense forests of foliferous and coniferous trees. occasionally the slopes are rocky or covered with loose debris that does not give clinging room to the trees. the undergrowth is dense, and everything indicates a good vegetation. the mountains are of mica-schist, clay-slate, and rocks of similar origin resting upon an axis of granite. porphyry has been found in one locality. according to the geologists there are indications of gold and other precious metals, and i would not be surprised if a thorough exploration led to valuable discoveries. as the boat struggled against the current in this mountain passage i spent most of the time on deck. the tortuous course of the river added much to the scenic effect. almost every minute the picture changed. hill, forest, cliff, and valley assumed different aspects as we wound our sinuous way up the defile. here and there were tiny cascades breaking over the steep rocks to the edge of the river, and occasionally a little meadow peeped out from the mountain valleys. some features of the scenery reminded me of the highlands of the hudson, or the mississippi above lake pepin. at times we seemed completely enclosed in a lake from which there was no escape save by climbing the hills. frequently it was impossible to discover any trace of an opening half a mile in our front. had we been ascending an unexplored river i should have half expected to find it issuing like a huge spring from the base of a high mountain. the russian villages in these mountains are located in the valleys of streams flowing to the amoor. in one bend we found a solitary house newly-erected and waiting its occupants who should, keep the post-station in winter. we sent a cossack ashore in a skiff at this point, and he came near falling into the river while descending the steps at the steamer's side. while returning from the bank one of the men in the skiff broke an oar and fell overboard, which obliged us to back the steamer nearly half a mile down the river to pick him up. the unlucky individual was arrayed in the only suit of clothes he possessed, and was hung up to dry in the engine room. a mile above this landing place we passed two manjour boats ascending the stream. these boats were each about twenty feet long, sitting low in the water with the bow more elevated than the stern, and had a mast in the center for carrying a small sail. in the first boat i counted six men, four pushing with poles, one steering, and the sixth, evidently the proprietor, lying at ease on the baggage. where the nature of the ground permits the crew walk along the shore and tow the boat. the men were in cotton garments and conical hats, and their queues of hair hung like ships pennants in a dead calm, or the tails of a group of scared dogs. they seemed to enjoy themselves, and were laughing merrily as we went past them. they waved their hands up the stream as if urging us to go ahead and say they were coming. the one reclining was a venerable personage, with a thin beard fringing a sedate visage, into which he drew long whiffs and comfort from a chinese pipe. these boats were doubtless from kirin or san-sin, on their way to igoon. the voyage must be a tedious one to any but a mongol, much like the navigation of the mississippi before the days of steam-boats. in spite of the great advantages to commerce, the manjours resisted to the last the introduction of steam on the amoor just as they now oppose it on the songaree. [illustration: manjour boat.] in the language of the natives along its banks the amoor has several names. the chinese formerly called the songaree 'ku-tong,' and considered the lower amoor a part of that stream. above the songaree the amoor was called 'sakhalin-oula,' (black water,) by the manjours and chinese. the goldees named it 'mongo,' and the gilyaks called it 'mamoo.' the name amoor was given by the russians, and is considered a corruption of the gilyak word. when mr. collins descended, in , the natives near igoon did not or would not understand him when he spoke of the amoor. they called the river 'sakhalin,' a name which the russians gave to the long island at the mouth of the amoor. as the mongolian maps do not reach the outside world i presume the russian names are most likely to endure with geographers. the upper part of the defile of the buryea mountains is wider and has more meadows than the lower portion. on one of these meadows, where there is a considerable extent of arable land, we found the village of raddevski, named in honor of the naturalist raddy, who explored this region. the resources here were excellent, if i may judge by the quantity and quality of edibles offered to our steward. the people of both sexes flocked to the landing with vegetables, bread, chickens, butter, and other good things in much larger quantity than we desired. there was a liberal supply of pigs and chickens, with many wild geese and ducks. we bought a pig and kept him on board three or four days. he squealed without cessation, until our captain considered him a bore, and ordered him killed and roasted. pigs were generally carried in bags or in the arms of their owners. one day a woman brought a thirty pound pig suspended over her shoulder. the noise and kicking of the brute did not disturb her, and she held him as unconcernedly as if he were an infant. finding no market for her property, she turned it loose and allowed it to take its own way home. milk was almost invariably brought in bottles, and eggs in boxes or baskets. eggs were sold by the dizaine (ten,) and not as with us by the dozen. at raddevski several kinds of berries were offered us, but only the blackberry and whortleberry were familiar to my eyes. one berry, of which i vainly tried to catch the russian name, was of oblong shape, three-fourths an inch in length, and had the taste of a sweet grape. it was said to grow on a climbing vine. cedar nuts were offered in large quantities, but i did not purchase. here, as elsewhere on the lower amoor, men and women labor together in the fields and engage equally in marketing at the boats. i was much amused in watching the commercial transactions between the peasants and our steward. i could not understand what was said, but the conversation in loud tones and with many words had much the appearance of an altercation. several times i looked around expecting to see blows, but the excitement was confined to the vocal organs alone. the passage of the amoor through the buryea mountains is nearly a hundred miles in length. toward the upper end the mountains are more precipitous and a few peaks rise high above the others, like the sentinels in yosemite valley. the last cliff before one reaches the level country is known as cape sverbef, a bold promontory that projects into the river and is nearly a thousand feet high. not far from this cliff is a flat-topped mountain remarkable for several crevices on its northern side, from which currents of cold air steadily issue. ice forms around these fissures in midsummer, and a thermometer suspended in one of them fell in an hour to ° fahrenheit. an hour after passing the mountains i saw a dozen conical huts on the chinese shore and a few dusky natives lounging in front of them. they reminded me of the lodges of our noble red men as i saw them west of the missouri several years before. instead of being cheyennes or sioux they proved to be birars, a tribe of wandering tunguse who inhabit this region. their dwellings wore of light poles covered with birch bark. one of the native gentlemen was near the bank of the river in the attitude of an orator, but not properly dressed for a public occasion. his only garments were a hat and a string of beads, and he was accompanied by a couple of young ladies in the same picturesque costume, minus the hat and beads. these tungusians lead a nomadic life. above the mouth of the zeya there are two other tribes of similar character, the managres and orochons. the principal difference between them is that the former keep the horse and the latter the reindeer. the birars have no beasts of burden except a very few horses. none of these people live in permanent houses, but move about wherever attracted by fishing or the chase. during spring and summer they generally live on the banks of the river, where they catch and cure fish. their scaffoldings and storehouses were like those of the natives already described, and during their migrations are left without guards and universally respected. their fish are dried for winter use, and they sell the roe of the sturgeon to the russians for making caviar. my first acquaintance with caviar was at nicolayevsk, and i soon learned to like it. it is generally eaten with bread, and forms an important ingredient in the russian lunch. on the volga its preparation engages a great many men, and the caviar from that river is found through the whole empire. along the amoor the business is in its infancy, the production thus far being for local consumption. i think if some enterprising american would establish the preparation of caviar on the hudson where the sturgeon is abundant, he could make a handsome profit in shipping it to russia. the roe is taken from the fish and carefully washed. the membrane that holds the eggs together is then broken, and after a second washing the substance is ready for salting. one kind for long carriage and preservation is partially dried and then packed and sealed in tin cans. the other is put in kegs, without pressing, and cannot be kept a long time. in the autumn and winter the natives are hunters. they chase elk and deer for their flesh, and sables, martens, and squirrels for their furs. squirrels are especially abundant, and a good hunter will frequently kill a thousand in a single season. the siberian squirrel of commerce comes from this region by way of irkutsk and st. petersburg. the natives hunt the bear and are occasionally hunted by him. at one landing a birar exhibited an elk skin which he wished to exchange for tobacco, and was quite delighted when i gave him a small quantity of the latter. he showed me a scar on his arm where a bear had bitten him two or three years before. the marks of the teeth and the places where the flesh was torn could be easily seen, but i was unable to learn the particulars of his adventure. these tungusians are rather small in stature, and their arms and legs are thin. their features are broad, their mouths large and lips narrow, and their hair is black and smooth, the men having very little beard. their clothing is of the skins of elk and deer, with some garments of cotton cloth of chinese manufacture. most of the men i saw wore a belt at the waist, to which several articles of daily use were attached. at each russian settlement above the mountains i observed a large post painted in the official colors and supporting a board inscribed with the name of the village. it was fixed close to the landing place, and evidently designed for the convenience of strangers. one of my exercises in learning the language of the country was to spell the names on these signs. i found i could usually spell much faster if i knew beforehand the name of a village. it was like having a bohn's translation of a latin exercise. at the village of inyakentief i saw the first modern fortification since leaving nicolayevsk,--a simple lunette without cannon but with several hundred cannon shot somewhat rusty with age. the governor of this village was a prince by title, and evidently controlled his subjects very well. i saw madame the princess, but did not have the pleasure of her acquaintance. she was dressed in a costume of which crinoline, silk, and ribbons were component parts, contrasting sharply with the coarse garments of the peasant women. this village had recently sold a large quantity of wheat and rye to the government. it had the best church i had seen since leaving nicolayevsk, and its general appearance was prosperous. among the women that came to the boat was one who recognized borasdine as an old acquaintance. she hastened back to her house and brought him two loaves of bread made from wheat of that year's growth. as a token of friendship he gave her a piece of sugar weighing a pound or two and a glass of bad brandy that brought many tears to her eyes. i think she was at least fifteen minutes drinking the fiery liquid, which she sipped as one would take a compound of cayenne pepper and boiling water. the worst 'tanglefoot' or 'forty-rod' from cincinnati or st. louis would have been nectar by the side of that brandy. the country for a hundred miles or more above the buryea mountains was generally level. here and there were hills and ridges, and in the background on the south a few mountains were visible. there were many islands which, with the banks of alluvium, were evidently cut by the river in high freshets. where the beach sloped to the water there was a little driftwood, and i could see occasional logs resting upon islands and sand bars. when taken in a tumbler the water of the amoor appeared perfectly clear, but in the river it had a brownish tinge. there were no snags and no floating timber. i never fancied an iron boat for river travel owing to the ease of puncturing it. on the mississippi or missouri it would be far from safe, but on the amoor there are fewer perils of navigation. more boats have been lost there from carelessness or ignorance than from accidents really unavoidable. the amoor is much like what the mississippi would be with all its snags removed and its channel made permanent. while among the islands i saw a small flotilla of boats in line across a channel, and after watching them through a glass discovered they were hauling a net. there were ten or twelve summer huts on the point of an island, and the boats were at least twice as many. a dozen men on shore were hauling a net that appeared well filled with fish. i do not think a single native looked up as we passed. possibly they have a rule there not to attend to outside matters when exercising their professions. chapter xvii. the second day above the mountains we passed a region of wide prairie stretching far to the north and bearing a dense growth of rank grass and bushes, with a few clumps of trees. on the chinese side there were hills that sloped gently to the river's edge or left a strip of meadow between them and the water. many hills were covered with a thin forest of oaks and very little underbrush. at a distance the ground appeared as if carefully trimmed for occupation, especially as it had a few open places like fields. in the sere and yellow leaf of autumn these groves were charming, and i presume they are equally so in the fresh verdure of summer. if by some magic the amoor could be transferred to america, and change its mouth from the gulf of tartary to the bay of new york, a multitude of fine mansions would soon rise on its banks. among the islands that stud this portion of the river we passed the steamer constantine with two barges in tow. she left nicolayevsk twelve days before us, and her impediments made her journey a slow one. her barges were laden with material for the amoor telegraph, then under construction. about the same time we met the nicolai towing a barge with a quantity of cattle destined for the garrison at the mouth of the river. the nicolai was the property of a merchant (mr. ludorf) at nicolayevsk. the village of poyarkof, where we stopped for wood, impressed me very favorably. it was carefully laid out, and its single street had a wide and deep ditch on each side, crossed by little bridges. the houses were well built and had an air of neatness, while all the fences were substantial. very few persons visited the boat, most of the inhabitants being at work in the fields. we walked through the settlement, and were shown specimens of wheat and rye grown in the vicinity. four or five men, directed by a priest, were building a church, and two others were cutting plank near by with a primitive 'up-and-down' saw. the officer controlling the village was temporarily absent with the farm laborers. all around there were proofs of his energy and industry. this village was one of the military colonies of the province of the amoor. when in proper hands the military settlement is preferable to any other, as the men are more accustomed to obeying orders and work in greater harmony than the peasants. what is most needed is an efficient and energetic chief to each village, who has and deserves the confidence of his people. with enough of the _fortiter in re_ to repress any developments of laziness and prevent intemperance, such a man can do much for the government and himself. if his imperial majesty will take nine-tenths of his present military force on the amoor, place it in villages, allow the men to send for their families, and put the villages in the hands of proper chiefs under a general superintendent, he will take a long step toward making the new region self-sustaining. we have ample proof in america that an army is an expensive luxury, and the cost of maintaining it is proportioned to its strength. the verb 'to soldier' has a double meaning in english, and will bear translation. on distant stations like the amoor, the military force could be safely reduced to a small figure in time of peace. less play and more work would be better for the country and the men. as we proceeded up the river there was another change of the native population. the tents of the birars disappeared, and we entered the region of the manjours and chinese. the captain called my attention to the first manjour village we passed. the dwellings were one story high, their walls being of wood with a plastering of mud. the chimneys were on the outside like those of the goldees already described, and the roofs of the houses were thatched with straw. the manjour villages are noticeable for the gardens in and around them. each house that i saw had a vegetable garden that appeared well cultivated. in the corner of nearly every garden i observed a small building like a sentry box. in some doubt as to its use, i asked information of my russian friends, and learned it was a temple where the family idols are kept and the owners go to offer their prayers. [illustration: a private temple.] near each village was a grove which enclosed a public temple on the plan of a church in civilized countries. the temple was generally a square house, built with more care and neatness than the private dwellings. on entering, one found himself in a kind of ante-room, separated from the main apartment by a pink curtain. this curtain has religious inscriptions in chinese and manjour. in the inner apartment there are pictures of chinese deities, with a few hideous idols carved in wood. a table in front of the pictures receives the offerings of worshippers. the manjours appear very fond of surrounding their temples with trees, and this is particularly noticeable on account of the scarcity of wood in this region. timber comes from points higher up the amoor, where it is cut and rafted down. small trees and bushes are used as fuel and always with the strictest economy. the grove around the temple is held sacred, as among the druids in england, and i presume a native would suffer long from cold before cutting a consecrated tree. along the river near the first village several boats were moored or drawn on the bank out of reach of the water. a few men and women stood looking at us, and some of them shouted '_mendow_' when we were directly opposite their position. of course we returned their salutation. unlike the aboriginals lower down the river, the manjours till the soil and make it their chief dependence. i saw many fields where the grain was uncut, and others where it had been reaped and stacked. the stacks were so numerous in proportion to the population that there must be a large surplus each year. evidently there is no part of the amoor valley more fertile than this. horses and cattle were grazing in the meadows and looked up as we steamed along. we passed a dozen horses drinking from the river, and set them scampering with our whistle. the horse is used here for carrying light loads, but with heavy burdens the ox finds preference. along the chinese shore i frequently saw clumsy carts moving at a snail-like pace between the villages. each cart had its wheels fixed on an axle that generally turned with them. frequently there was a lack of grease, and the screeching of the vehicle was rather unpleasant to tender nerves. near the village we met a manjour boat, evidently the property of a merchant. the difference between going with and against the current was apparent by comparing the progress of this boat with the one i saw in the buryea mountains. one struggled laboriously against the stream, but the other had nothing to do beyond keeping where the water ran swiftest. this one carried a small flag, and was deeply laden with merchandise. the crew was dozing and the man at the helm did not appear more than half awake. villages were passed in rapid succession, and the density of the population was in agreeable contrast to the desolation of many parts of the lower amoor. it was a panorama of houses, temples, groves, and fields, with a surrounding of rich meadows and gentle hills. there was a range of low mountains in the background, but on the russian shore the flat prairie continued. in the middle of the afternoon we passed the town of yah-tou-kat-zou, situated on the chinese shore where the river makes a bend toward the north and east. it had nothing of special interest, but its gardens were more extensive and more numerous than in the villages below. just above it there was a bay forming a neat harbor containing several boats and barges. when the chinese controlled the amoor they occupied this bay as a dock-yard and naval station. had my visit been ten or twelve years earlier i should have seen several war junks anchored here. when the russians obtained the river the chinese transferred their navy to the songaree. from this ancient navy yard the villages stretched in a nearly continuous line along the southern bank, and were quite frequent on the northern one. we saw three manjour women picking berries on the russian shore. one carried a baby over her shoulders much after the manner of the american indians. these women wore garments of blue cotton shaped much like the gowns of the russian peasants. near them a boat was moving along the shore, carrying a crew consisting of a man, a boy, and a dog. the boat, laden with hay, was evidently destined for 'cows and a market.' near it was another boat rowed by two men, carrying six women and a quantity of vegetables. some of the women were sorting the vegetables, and all watched our boat with interest. from the laughter as we passed i concluded the remarks on our appearance were not complimentary. the scene on this part of the river was picturesque. there were many boats, from the little canoe or 'dug-out,' propelled by one man, up to the barge holding several tons of merchandise. the one-man boats were managed with a double-bladed oar, such as i have already described. nearly every boat that carried a mast had a flag or streamer attached to it, and some had dragons' heads on their bows. would lindley murray permit me to say that i saw one barge manned by ten women? [illustration: fishing implements.] though subsisting mainly by agriculture and pastoral pursuits, the manjours devote considerable time to fishing. one fishing implement bore a faint resemblance to a hand-cart, as it had an axle with two small wheels and long handles. a frame over the axle sustained a pole, to which a net was fastened. the machine could be pushed into the water and the net lowered to any position suitable for entrapping fish. occasionally i saw a native seated on the top of a tripod about ten feet high, placed at the edge of the river. here he fished with pole, net, or spear, according to circumstances. he always appeared to me as if left there during a freshet and waiting for the river to rise and let him off. at one place two boys were seated cross-legged near the water and fishing with long poles. they were so intent in looking at us that they did not observe the swell of the steamer until thoroughly drenched by it. as they stood dripping on the sand they laughed good-naturedly at the occurrence, and soon seated themselves again at their employment. late in the afternoon i saw a village larger than all the others, lying in a bend of the river, stretching three or four miles along the bank and a less distance away from it. this was igoon, the principal place of the chinese on the amoor, and once possessing considerable power. originally the fort and town of igoon were on the left bank of the river, four miles below the present site. the location was changed in , and when the new town was founded it grew quite rapidly. for a long time it was a sort of botany bay for pekin, and its early residents were mostly exiles. at present its population is variously estimated from twenty to fifty thousand. the chinese do not give any information on this point, and the russian figures concerning it are based upon estimates. igoon was formerly the capital of the chinese 'province of the arnoor,' but is now destitute of that honor. the seat of government was removed about twenty years ago to sit-si-gar. as we approached igoon i could see below it many herds of cattle and horses driven by mounted men. there was every appearance of agricultural prosperity. it was near the end of harvest, and most of the grain was stacked in the fields. here and there were laborers at work, and i could see many people on the bank fronting the river. around the city were groves enclosing the temples which held the shrines consecrated to mongol worship, as the cross is reverenced by the followers of the christian faith. the city had a sombre look, as all the houses were black. the buildings were of wood plastered with mud, and nearly all of one story. over the temples in the city there were flag-staffs, but with no banners hanging from them or on the outer walls. the governor's house and the arsenals were similarly provided with tall poles rising from the roofs, but here as elsewhere no flags were visible. along the beach there were many rafts of logs beside numerous boats either drawn on shore or moored to posts or stakes. fishermen and boys were sitting cross-legged near the water, and the inattention of several caused their drenching by our swell. idle men stood on the bank above the beach, nearly all smoking their little brass pipes with apparent unconcern. men and women, principally the latter, were carrying water from the river in buckets, which they balanced from the ends of a neck-yoke. we dropped anchor and threw a line that was made fast by a young manjour. on shore we met several residents, who greeted us civilly and addressed the captain in russian. most of the manjour merchants have learned enough russian to make a general conversation, especially in transacting business. i was introduced as an american who had come a long distance purposely to see igoon. the governor was absent, so that it was not possible to call on him. we were shown to a temple near at hand, a building fifteen feet by thirty, with a red curtain at the door and a thick carpet of matting over a brick pavement. the altar was veiled, but its covering was lifted to allow me to read, if i could, the inscription upon it. it stood close to the entrance, like the screen near the door of a new york bar-room. there were several pictures on the walls, a few idols, and some lanterns painted in gaudy colors. outside there were paintings over the door, some representing chinese landscapes. the windows were of lattice work, the roof had a dragon's head at each end of the ridge, and a mosaic pavement extended like a sidewalk around the entire building. our guide, who lived near, invited us to his house. we entered it through his office, which contained a table, three or four chairs, and a few account books. out of this we walked into a large apartment used for lounging by day and sleeping at night. its principal furniture was a wide divan, at one side, where the bed clothing of three or four persons was rolled into neat bundles. it turned out on inquiry that the man lived in two houses, the principal part of his family being domiciled several squares away. as time pressed we did not stop longer than to thank him for his attention. the streets of igoon reminded me of new york under the contract system four or five years ago. we walked through one street upon a narrow log fixed in the mud, and steadied ourselves against a high fence. on a larger thoroughfare there were some dry spots, but as there were two logs to walk upon we balanced very well. chinese streets rarely have sidewalks, and every pedestrian must care for himself the best way he can. the rains the week before my visit had reduced the public ways to a disagreeable condition. were i to describe the measurement of the broadway of igoon, i should say its length was two miles, more or less, its width fifty feet, and its depth two feet. our captain carried a sword cane which confused him a little as the lower part occasionally stuck in the mud and came off. this exposition of weapons he evidently wished to avoid. on the principal street i found several stores, and, true to the instinct of the american abroad, stopped to buy something. the stores had the front open to the street, so that one could stand before the counter and make his purchases without entering. the first store i saw had six or seven clerks and very little else, and as i did not wish a chinese clerk i moved to another shop. for the articles purchased i paid only five times their actual value, as i afterward learned. the merchants and their employees appeared to talk russian quite fluently, and were earnest in urging me to buy. one of them imitated the tactics of chatham street, and became very voluble over things i did not want. holding up an article he praised its good qualities and named its price. "five roubles; very good; five roubles." i shook my head. "four roubles; yes; good; four roubles." again i made a negation. "three roubles; very good; yes." i continued shaking my head as he fell to two and a half, two, and finally to one rouble. i left him at that figure, or it is possible he would have gone still lower. "they are great rascals," said borasdine as we walked away. "they ask ten times the real price and hope to cheat you in some way. it is difficult to buy anything here for its actual value." we went through more streets and more mud, passing butchers' shops where savage dogs growled with that amiable tone peculiar to butcher dogs everywhere. we passed tea shops, shoe shops, drug stores, and other establishments, each with a liberal number of clerks. labor must be cheap, profits large, or business brisk, to enable the merchants to maintain so many employees. at the end of a long street we came to the guard-house, near the entrance of the military quarters. we entered the dirty barrack, but saw nothing particularly interesting. i attempted to go inside the room where the instruments of punishment were kept, but the guard stood in the way and would not move. the soldiers in this establishment had evidently partaken of a beverage stronger than tea, as they were inclined to too much familiarity. one patted me on the shoulder and pressed my hand affectionately, indulging the while in snatches of chinese songs. in the prison were two or three unfortunates with their feet shackled so as to prevent their stepping more than four inches at a time. while we stood there a gaily dressed officer rode past us on a magnificent horse, reminding me of an american militia hero on training day. we looked at the fence of palisades, and stepped under the gateway leading to the government quarter. over the gate was a small room like the drawbridge room in a castle of the middle ages. twenty men could be lodged there to throw arrows, hot water, or chinese perfumery on the invading foe. a manjour acquaintance of our captain invited us to visit his house. we entered through the kitchen, where there was a man frying a kind of 'twisted doughnut' in vegetable oil. the flour he used was ground in the manjour mills, and lacked the fineness of european or american flour. judging by the quantity of food visible the family must have been a large one. the head of the household proclaimed himself a tartar, and said he was the proprietor of four wives. i smoked a cigar with him, and during our interview borasdine hinted that we would like to inspect his harem. after a little decorous hesitation, he led us across an open and muddy courtyard to a house where a dozen women were in the confusion of preparing and eating supper. with four wives one must have a proportionate number of servants and retainers, else he cannot maintain 'style.' such a scene of confusion i never saw before in one man's family. there were twelve or fifteen children of different ages and sexes, and not one silent. some were at table, some quarreling, some going to sleep, and some waking. two women were in serious dispute, and the tartar words poured out freely. the room was hot, stifling, and filled with as many odors as the city of cologne, and we were glad to escape into the open air as soon as possible. i did not envy that mongol gentleman his domestic bliss, and am inclined to think he considered it no joke to be as much married as he was. i did not sec any pretty women at igoon, but learned afterward that they exist there. the manjour style of hair-dressing attracts the eye of a stranger. the men plait the hair after the chinese manner, shaving the fore part of the head. the women wind theirs in a peculiar knot, in about the position of the french chignon. they pierce this knot with two long pins like knitting needles, and trim it with bright ribbons and real or artificial flowers. the fashion is becoming, and, excluding the needles, i would not be surprised to see it in vogue in western civilization within half a dozen years. the men wore long blue coats of cotton or silk, generally the former, loose linen trousers, fastened at the knee or made into leggings, and chinese shoes or boots of skin. the women dress in pantaletts and blue cotton gowns with short, loose sleeves, above which they wear at times a silk cape or mantle. they have ear rings, bracelets, and finger rings in profusion, and frequently display considerable taste in their adornment. it was nearly sunset when we landed at igoon, and when we finished our visit to the tartar family the stars were out. the delay of the boat was entirely to give me a view of a chinese-manjour city. darkness put an end to sight-seeing, and so we hastened to the steamer, followed by a large crowd of natives. [illustration: a chinese family picture.] we took three or four manjour merchants as passengers to blagoveshchensk. one of them spent the evening in our cabin, but would neither drink alcoholic beverages nor smoke. this appeared rather odd among a people who smoke persistently and continually. men, women, and children are addicted to the practice, and the amount of tobacco they burn is enormous. chapter xviii. at daylight on the morning after leaving igoon, we were passing the mouth of the zeya, a river half a mile wide, flowing with a strong current. it was along this river that the first white men who saw the amoor found their way. it is said to be practicable for steam navigation three or four hundred miles from its mouth. at present four or five thousand peasants are settled along the zeya, with excellent agricultural prospects. as i came on deck rubbing my half-opened eyes, i saw a well-built town on the russian shore. "blagoveshchensk," said the steward, as he waved his arm in that direction. i well knew that the capital of the province of the amoor was just above the mouth of the zeya. it stands on a prairie fifteen or twenty feet above the river, and when approached from the south its appearance is pleasing. the houses are large and well built, and each has plenty of space around it. some of them have flower gardens in front, and a public park was well advanced toward completion at the time of my arrival. a wharf extended into the river at an angle of forty degrees with the shore. the steamer korsackoff was moored at this wharf, with a barge nearly her own size. the ingodah tied to the bank just below the wharf, and was welcomed by the usual crowd of soldiers and citizens, with a fair number of manjours from the other bank. on landing, i called upon colonel pedeshenk, the governor of the province, and delivered my letters of introduction. the colonel invited me to dine with him that day, and stated that several officers of his command would be present. after this visit and a few others, i went with captain borasdine to attend the funeral of the late major general bussy. this gentleman was five years governor of the province of the amoor, and resigned in on account of ill-health. he died on his way to st. petersburg, and the news of his death reached blagoveshchensk three days before my arrival. i happened to reach the town on the morning appointed for the funeral service. the church was crowded, everybody standing, according to the custom prevailing in russia. colonel pedeshenk and his officers were in full uniform, and almost all present held lighted candles. five or six priests, with an archbishop, conducted the ceremonies. the services consisted of a ritual, read and intoned by the priests, with chanting by the choir of male voices. the archbishop was in full robes belonging to his position, and his long gray beard and reverend face gave him a patriarchal appearance. when the ceremony was finished the congregation opened to the right and left to permit the governor and officers to pass out first. from beginning to end the service lasted about an hour. colonel pedeshenk had been governor but a few months, and awaited confirmation in his position. having served long on the staff of general bussy, he was disposed to follow in the footsteps of his predecessor and carry out his plans for developing the resources of his district. at the appointed hour i went to dine at the governor's, where i found eight or ten officers and the young wife of colonel pedeshenk. we spent a half-hour on the balcony, where there was a charming view of the river and the chinese shore with its background of mountains. the governor's house was more like a mansion in a venerable town than in a settlement less than ten years old. the reception hall would have made a good ball-room anywhere out of the large cities. the charming young madame did not speak english but was fluent in french. she was from irkutsk, and had spent several years in the schools and society of st. petersburg. she had many reminiscences of the capital, and declared herself delighted with her home on the amoor. after dinner we retired to the balcony for prosaic tea drinking and a poetical study of the glories of an autumn sunset behind the hills of manjouria. there was no hotel in the town, and i had wondered where i should lodge. before i had been half an hour on shore, i was invited by dr. snider, the surgeon in chief of the province, to make my home at his house. the doctor spoke english fluently, and told me he learned it from a young american at ayan several years before. he was ten years in government service at ayan, and met there many of my countrymen. once he contemplated emigrating to new bedford at the urgent solicitation of a whaling captain who frequently came to the ohotsk sea. dr. snider was from the german provinces of russia, and his wife, a sister of admiral fulyelm, was born in sweden. they usually conversed in german but addressed their children in russian. they had a swedish housemaid who spoke her own language in the family and only used russian when she could not do otherwise. madame snider told me her children spoke swedish and russian with ease, and understood german very well. they intended having a french or english governess in course of time. "i speak," said the doctor, "german with my wife, swedish to the housemaid, russian to my other servants, french with some of the officers, english with occasional travelers, and a little chinese and manjour with the natives over the river." blagoveshchensk has a pretty situation, and i should greatly prefer it to nicolayevsk for permanent habitation. in the middle of the amoor valley and at the mouth of the zeya, its commercial advantages are good and its importance increases every year. it was founded in by general mouravieff, but did not receive any population worthy of mention until after the treaty of igoon in . the government buildings are large and well constructed, logs being the material in almost universal use for making walls. a large unfinished house for the telegraph was pointed out to me, and several warehouses were in process of erection. late one afternoon the captain of the steamer korsackoff invited me to visit sakhalin-oula-hotun (city of the black river) on the opposite shore. though called a city it cannot justly claim more than two thousand inhabitants. there was a crowd on the bank similar to the one at igoon, most of the women and girls standing with their arms folded in their sleeves. several were seated close to the water and met the same misfortune as those in similar positions at igoon. the korsackoff made a much greater swell than the ingodah, and those who caught its effects were well moistened. we landed from, the steamer's boat and ascended the bank to the village. several fat old manjours eyed us closely and answered with great brevity our various questions. sakhalin-oula stretches more than a mile along the bank, but extends only a few rods back from the river. practically it consists of a single street, which is quite narrow in several places. the houses are like those of igoon, with frames of logs and coverings of boards, or with log walls plastered with mud. the windows of stores and dwellings are of lattice work covered with oiled paper, glass being rarely used. the roofs of the buildings were covered with thatch of wheat straw several inches thick, that must offer excellent facilities for taking fire. probably the character of this thatch accounts for the chimneys rising ten or fifteen feet from, the buildings. i saw several men arranging one of these roofs. on a foundation of poles they laid bundles of straw, overlapping them as we overlap shingles, and cutting the boards to allow the straw to spread evenly. this kind of covering must be renewed every two or three years. several thatches were very much decayed, and in one of them there was a fair growth of grass. the village was embowered in trees in contrast to the russian shore where the only trees were those in the park. i endeavored to ascertain the cause of this difference, but could not. the russians said there was often a variation of three or four degrees in the temperature of the two banks, the chinese one being the milder. timber for both chinese and russian use is cut in the forests up the amoor and rafted down. sakhalin-oula abounded in vegetable gardens, which supplied the market of blagoveshchensk. the number of shops both there and at igoon led me to consider the manjours a population of shop-keepers. dr. snider said they brought him everything for ordinary table use, and would contract to furnish at less than the regular price, any article sold by the russian merchants. in their enterprise and mode of dealing they were much like the jews of europe and america, which may account for their being called manjours. once a month during the full moon they come to blagoveshchensk and open a fair, which continues seven days. they sell flour, buckwheat, beans, poultry, eggs, vegetables, and other edible articles. the russians usually purchase a month's supply at these times, but when they wish anything out of the fair season the manjours are ready to furnish it. we walked along a narrow street, less muddy than the streets of igoon, and passed several cattle yards enclosed with high fences, like california corrals. in one yard there were cattle and horses, so densely packed that they could not kick freely. groups of natives stared at us while smoking their little pipes, and doubtless wondered why we came there. several eyed me closely and asked my companions who and what i could be. the explanation that i was american conveyed no information, as very few of them ever heard of the land of the free and the former home of the slave. one large building with a yard in front and an inscription over its gate was pointed out as a government office. several employees of the emperor of china were standing at the gateway, all smoking and enjoying the evening air. at a hitching post outside the gate there were three saddled horses of a breed not unlike the 'canadian.' the saddles would be uncomfortable to an american, cavalry officer, though not so to a camanche indian. according to my recollection of our equestrian savage i think his saddle is not much unlike the mongolians'. beyond this establishment we entered a yard in front of a new and well-built house. near the door was the traveling carriage of the governor of igoon, who had arrived only an hour or two before. the carriage was a two-wheeled affair, not long enough to permit one to lie at full length nor high enough to sit bolt upright. it had no springs, the frame resting fairly on the axles. the top was rounded like that of a butcher's cart and the sides were curtained with blue cloth that had little windows or peep-holes. i looked behind the curtain and saw that the sides and bottom were cushioned to diminish the effect of jolting. two or three small pillows, round and hard, evidently served to fill vacancies and wedge the occupant in his place. [illustration: manjour traveling carriage.] the shafts were like those of a common dray, and the driver's position was on a sort of shelf within ten inches of the horse's tail. there was room for a postillion on the shelf with the driver, the two sitting back to back and their legs hanging over the side. the wheel-tires were slightly cogged as if made for use in a machine, and altogether the vehicle did not impress me as a comfortable one. being without springs it gives the occupant the benefit of all jolting, and as the chinese roads are execrable, i imagine one might feel after a hundred miles in such a conveyance very much as if emerging from an encounter with a champion prize-fighter. sometimes the chinese officials set the wheels of their carts very far aft so as to get a little spring from the long shafts. even with this improvement the carriage is uncomfortable, and it is no wonder that the chinese never travel when they can avoid it. entering a hall that led to a larger apartment, we reached the presence of the governor of igoon. he was seated on a mat near the edge of a wide divan, his legs crossed like a tailor's at his work. he was in a suit of light-colored silk, with a conical hat bearing a crystal ball on the top. it is generally understood that the grade of a chinese official may be known by the ball he wears on his hat. thus there are red, blue, white, yellow, green, crystal, copper, brass, _et cetera_, according to the rank of the wearer. these balls take the place of the shoulder-strap and epaulettes of western civilization, and it must be admitted that they occupy the most conspicuous position one could select. as i am not versed in details of the orders of chinese rank i will not attempt to give the military and civil status of my new acquaintance. i learned that he was a general in the army, had displayed skill and bravery in subduing the rebellion, and been personally decorated by the emperor. he was enjoying his pipe and a cup of tea, resting the latter on a little table at his side. he was an old man,--of how many years i dare not try to guess,--with a thin gray beard on his short chin, and a face that might have been worn by the knight of the sorrowful countenance. i was introduced as an american who had come to see china, and especially the portion bordering on the amoor. we shook hands and i was motioned to a seat at his side on the edge of the divan. tea and cigars opened the way to a slow fire of conversation. i spoke in french with borasdine, who rendered my words in russian to the governor's interpreter. the principal remarks were that we were mutually enchanted to see each other, and that i was delighted at my visit to igoon and sakhalin-oula. several officials entered and bowed low before the governor, shaking their clenched hands at him during the obeisance. one wore a red and another a yellow ball, the first being in a black uniform and the second in a white one. the principal feature of each uniform was a long coat reaching below the knees, with a cape like the capes of our military cloaks. both dresses were of silk, and the material was of excellent quality. the floor of the room was of clay, beaten smooth and cleanly swept. the furniture consisted of the divan before mentioned, with two or three rolls of bedding upon it, a chinese table, and two chinese and three russian chairs. the walls were covered with various devices produced from the oriental brain; and an american clock and a french mirror showed how the celestials have become demoralized by commerce with outside barbarians. the odor from the kitchen filled the room, and as we thought the governor might be waiting for his supper, we bade him good evening and returned to the boat and the russian shore. during my stay at blagoveshchensk i was invited to assist at a visit made by the governor of igoon to colonel pedeshenk. the latter sent his carriage at the appointed hour to bring the chinese dignitary and his chief of staff. a retinue of ten or twelve officers followed on foot, and on entering the audience hall they remained standing near the door. the greetings and hand-shakings were in the european style, and after they were ended the chinese governor took a seat and received his pipe from his pipe-bearer. he wore a plain dress of grey silk and a doublet or cape of blue with embroidery along the front. he did not wear his decorations, the visit being unofficial. in addition to the ball on his hat he wore a plume or feather that stood in a horizontal position. his chief of staff was the most elaborately dressed man of the party, his robes being more gaily decorated than the governor's. the members of the staff wore mandarin balls of different colors, and all had feathers in their hats. the governor's hair was carefully done up, and i suspect his queue was lengthened with black silk. conversation was carried on through the colonel's interpreter, and ran upon various topics. general bussy's death was mentioned in terms of regret, and then followed an interchange of compliments between the two governors who met for the first time. after this the chinese governor spoke of my visit to sakhalin-oula, and said i was the first american he ever met in his province. "how did i come from america," he asked, "and how far had i traveled to reach blagoveshchensk?" the interpreter named the distance and said i came to the amoor in a ship connected with the telegraph service. "when would the telegraph be finished?" he was told that within two or three years they would probably be able to send messages direct to america. then he asked if the railway would not soon follow the telegraph. he had never seen either, but understood perfectly their manner of working. he expressed himself pleased at the progress of the telegraph enterprise, but did not intimate that china desired anything of the kind. the interview lasted about an hour, and ended with a leave-taking after the european manner. there is much complaint among the russians that the treaty of is not carried out by the chinese. it is stipulated that trade shall be free along the entire boundary between the two empires, and that merchants can enter either country at will. the chinese merchants are not free to leave their own territory and visit russia, but are subject to various annoyances at the hands of their own officials. i was repeatedly informed at blagoveshchensk that the restrictions upon commerce wore very serious and in direct violation of the stipulations. one gentleman told me: "every manjour trader that brings anything here pays a tax of twenty to fifty per cent, for permission to cross the river. we pay now a third more for what we purchase than when we first settled here. the merchants complain of the restriction, and sometimes, though rarely, manage to evade it. occasionally a manjour comes to me offering an article twenty or thirty per cent, below his usual price, explaining that he smuggled it and requesting me not to expose him." i asked if the taxation was made by the chinese government, and was answered in the negative. "thee police of igoon and sakhalin-oula regulate the whole matter. it is purely a black-mail system, and the merchant who refuses to pay will be thrown into prison on some frivolous charge. the police master of igoon has a small salary, but has grown very wealthy in a few years. the russian and chinese governors have considered the affair several times, but accomplish nothing. on such occasions the chinese governor summons his police-master and asks him if there is any truth in the charges of the corruption of his subordinates. of course he declares everything correct, and there the matter ends." how history repeats itself! compare this with the conduct of certain treasury officials along the mississippi during our late war. the cases were exactly parallel. the government scandalized, trade restricted, and merchants plundered, to fill the pockets of rapacious officers! i began to think the mongol more like the anglo-saxon than ethnologists believe, and found an additional argument for the unity of the human race. if i knew the emperor of china i should counsel him to open his oblique eyes. if he does not he may find the conduct of the igoon police a serious affair for his dominions. russia, like oliver twist, desires more. when the opportunity comes she will quietly take possession of manjouria and hold both banks of the amoor. if the treaty of continues to be violated the governor general of eastern siberia will have an excellent excuse for taking the district of igoon and all it contains under his powerful protection. on the day i reached blagoveshchensk i saw an emigrant camp near the town. the emigrants had just landed from the rafts with which they descended the amoor. they came from astrachan, near the mouth of the volga, more than five thousand miles away, and had been two years on their travels. they came with wagons to the head waters of the amoor, and there built rafts, on which they loaded everything, including wagons and teams, and floated to their destination. i did not find their wagons as convenient as our own, though doubtless they are better adapted to the road. the russian wagon had a semi-circular body, as if a long hogshead were divided lengthwise and the half of it mounted on wheels, with the open part uppermost. there was a covering of coarse cloth over a light framework, lower and less wide than our army wagons. household goods fill the wagons, and the emigrants walk for the most part during all their land journey. i spent a few minutes at the camp near the town, and found the picture much like what i saw years ago beyond the mississippi. men were busy with their cattle and securing them for the night; one boy was bringing water from the river, and another gathering fuel for the fire; a young woman was preparing supper, and an older one endeavored, under shelter of the wagon-cover, to put a crying child to sleep. westward our star of empire takes its way. russian emigration presses eastward, and seeks the rising, as ours the setting sun. [illustration: tail piece--towards the sun] chapter xix. during my stay at blagoveshchensk the governor invited me to assist at a gazelle hunt. at nine o'clock on the day appointed we assembled at the house of the chief of staff. i breakfasted before going there, but it was necessary to discuss the coming hunt over a second breakfast. six or eight ladies were of the party, and the affair had the general appearance of a picnic. the governor seated me in his carriage at the side of madame pedeshenk, and we led the company to the field of expected slaughter. with four horses abreast,--two attached to a pole and two outside,--we dashed over an excellent road leading back from the town. there were three other carriages and two or three common wagons, in which the occupants rode on bundles of hay. there was a little vehicle on two wheels,--a sort of light gig with a seat for only one person,--driven by a lady. five or six officers were on horseback, and we had a detachment of twenty mounted cossacks to 'beat the bush.' excluding the cossacks and drivers, there were about thirty persons in the party. a mysterious wagon laden with boxes and kegs composed, the baggage train. the governor explained that this wagon contained the ammunition for the hunters. no gazelle could have looked upon those kegs and boxes without trembling in his boots. a range of low hills six miles from town was the spot selected for the hunt. there were nine armed men to be stationed across this range within shooting distance of each other. the cossacks were to make a circuitous route and come upon the hills two or three miles away, where, forming a long line and making much noise, they would advance in our direction. any game that happened in the way would be driven to us. we were to stand our ground with firmness and shoot any gazelle that attacked us. i determined to fight it out on that line. the road from blagoveshchensk led over a birch-covered plain to the bank of the zeya, four miles away. we passed on the right a small mill, which was to be replaced in the following year by a steam flouring establishment, the first on the amoor. on reaching the zeya i found a village named astrachanka, in honor of astrachan at the mouth of the volga. the settlers had lived there three or four years, and were succeeding well in agriculture. they were of the class known as german mennonites, who settled on the steppes of southern russia at the commencement of the present century. they are members of the lutheran church, and famed for their industry and their care in managing their flocks and fields. the governor praised them warmly, and expressed the kindest hopes for their prosperity. [illustration: the ammunition wagon.] we left the road near the village and passed through a field in the direction of the hunting ground. two men were at work with a yoke of oxen and a plough, whose beam rested on the axle of a pair of wheels. the yoke was like the one in use everywhere along the amoor, and was made of two pieces of thick plank, one above and the other below the animals' necks, with wooden pins to join them and bear the strain. the plough was quite primitive and did not stir the soil like an american or english plough. at the hunting ground we alighted and took our stations. the governor stood under a small oak, and the ladies rested on the grass near him. i went to the next post up the hollow, and the other hunters completed the line. dr. snider went to aid me in taking "a dear gazelle, to glad me with its soft black eye." he was armed with a cigar, while i had a double-barreled gun, loaded at (not to) the muzzle. the cossacks went to rouse the game, but their first drive resulted in nothing beyond a prodigious noise. when they started for the second drive i followed the doctor in a temporary visit to the ladies. during this absence from duty a large gazelle passed within ten steps of my station. i ran toward my post, but was not as nimble as the frightened deer. "_tirez_" commanded the governor. "fire," shouted the doctor. and i obeyed the double injunction. the distance was great and the animal not stationary. i fired, and the governor fired, but the only effect was to quicken the speed of our game. i never knew a gazelle to run faster. three weeks later i saw a beast greatly resembling him running on a meadow a thousand miles from blagoveshchensk. whether it was the same or another i will not attempt to say. a few minutes after this failure the horn of the hunter was heard on the hill, and two gazelles passed the line, but no game was secured. the governor proposed a change of base, and led us where the mysterious wagon had halted. the 'ammunition' was revealed. there were carpets and cloths on the grass, plates, knives and forks, edibles in variety, wine, ale, and other liquids, and the samovar steaming merrily at our side. i think we acquitted ourselves better at this part of the hunt than at any other. the picnic did not differ much from an american one, the most noticeable feature being the substantial character of solids and liquids. most of us sat on the grass and stumps, the number of camp-stools not exceeding half a dozen. finishing the lunch we took a new hunting spot and managed to kill a gazelle and a large hare. a fourth drive brought no game, and we returned to enjoy another lunch and drink a russian beverage called 'jonca.' in its preparation a pound or two of loaf sugar in a single lump is fixed on a wire frame above a copper pan. a bottle of cognac is poured over the sugar and set on fire. the sugar melts, and when the fire is almost extinguished a bottle of claret and one of champagne are added. the compound is taken hot, and has a sweet and very smooth taste. the russians are fond of producing this beverage when they have foreign guests, and if taken freely it has a weakening tendency. the captain of the variag told me he had placed several british officers under his table by employing this article, and there was a rumor that the fox embassy to st. petersburg was quite severely laid out by means of 'jonca.' the lunch finished we discharged our guns and returned to town at a rapid pace. while descending the bank of a brook our horses turned suddenly and nearly overset the carriage. the doctor and i jumped out to lighten the lower side, and were just in season to keep the wheels on the ground. madame pedeshenk followed into the arms of the strong doctor, but the governor, true to the martial instinct, remained in his place and gave instructions to the driver. we did not re-enter the carriage until it was across the brook; the horses were exercised rather violently during the remainder of the journey. i think the gazelle we killed was identical with the antelope of our western plains. he had a skin of the same color and a white tail, that retreating flag-of-truce so familiar to our overland emigrants. his feet, head, and body were shaped like the antelope's, and his eye had that liquid tenderness so often observed in the agile rover near the foot of the rocky mountains. gazelles abound through the amoor valley to within a hundred miles of the sea-coast. many are killed every autumn and winter in the valley of the zeya and along the middle amoor. the flesh is eaten and the skin used for winter coats and similar articles. the commerce of blagoveshchensk is in the hands of half a dozen merchants, one french, one german, and the rest russian. the amoor company before its affairs were ended kept there one of its principal stores, which was bought, with stock and good will, by the company's clerk. the wants of the officers, soldiers, and civilians in the town and its vicinity are sufficient to create a good local trade. prices are high, nearly double those of nicolayevsk, and the stocks of goods on hand are neither large nor well selected. officers complained to me of combinations among the merchants to maintain prices at an exorbitant scale. i staid four days at blagoveshchensk, and as the season was growing late was quite anxious to depart. the days were charming, corresponding to our indian summer, and the nights cool and frosty. the passenger on our steamer from igoon said ice would be running in the river in twenty-five days unless the season should be unusually mild. russians and chinese were preparing for cold weather, and i wished to do the same farther westward. borasdine contemplated a land journey in case we were delayed more than five days. the korsackoff was the only steamer to ascend the river, and she was waiting for the constantine to bring her a barge. on the evening of the th october the governor informed me the korsackoff would start on the next day, barge or no barge. this was cheering, and i celebrated the occasion by boiling myself in a russian bath. i look upon the bath as one of the blessings of russia. at the end of a journey, when one is sore and stiff in the joints, it is an effectual medicine. after it the patient sleeps soundly, and rises in the morning thoroughly invigorated. too much bathing deadens the complexion and enfeebles the body, but a judicious amount is beneficial. it is the russian custom, not always observed, to bathe once a week. the injury from the bath is in consequence of too high temperature of steam and water, causing a severe shock to the system. taken properly the bath has no bad effects, and will cure rheumatism, some forms of neuralgia, and several other acute diseases. the bath-house is a building of two, and generally three, rooms. in the outer room you undress, and your _chelavek_, or servant, does the same. if there is but another room you are led directly into it, and find a hot fire in a large stove. there is a cauldron of hot water and a barrel of cold water close at hand. the tools of the operator are a bucket, two or three basins, a bar of soap, a switch of birch boughs, and a bunch of matting. if there are three apartments the second is only an ante-room, not very warm and calculated to prepare you for the last and hottest of all. the chelavek begins by throwing a bucket of warm water over you. he follows this with another, and then a third, fourth, and fifth, each a little warmer than its predecessor. on one side of the room is a series of benches like a terrace or flight of large steps. you are placed horizontally on a bench, and with warm water, soap, and bunch of matting the servant scrubs you from head to foot with a manipulation more thorough than gentle. the temperature of the room is usually about ° fahrenheit, but it may be more or less. it induces vigorous perspiration, and sets the blood glowing and tingling, but it never melts the flesh nor breaks the smallest blood vessel. the finishing touch is to ascend the platform near the ceiling and allow the servant to throw water upon hot stones from the furnace. there is always a cloud of steam filling the room and making objects indistinct. you easily become accustomed to the ordinary heat, but when water is dropped upon the stones there is a rush of blistering steam. it catches you on the platform and you think how unfortunate is a lobster when he goes to pot and exchanges his green for scarlet. i declined this _coup de grace_ after a single experience. to my view it is the objectionable feature of the russian bath. i was always content after that to retire before the last course, and only went about half way up the terrace. the birchen switch is to whip the patient during the washing process, but is not applied with unpleasant force. to finish the bath you are drenched with several buckets of water descending from hot to cold, but not, as some declare, terminating with ice water. this little fiction is to amuse the credulous, and would be 'important if true.' men have sometimes rushed from the bath into a snow bank, but the occurrence is unusual. sometimes the peasants leave the bath for a swim in the river, but they only do so in mild weather. in all the cities there are public bath rooms, where men are steamed, polished, and washed in large numbers. in bathing the russians are more gregarious than english or americans. a russian would think no more of bathing with several others than of dining at a hotel table. nearly every private house has its bath room, and its frequent use can hardly fail to be noticed by travelers. [illustration: finishing touch.] on the morning of the th the constantine arrived, having left the korsackoff's barge hard aground below igoon. so we were to start unencumbered. i took my baggage to the korsackoff, and was obliged to traverse two barges before i reached the boat. twelve o'clock was the hour appointed for our departure, and at eleven the fires were burning in the furnaces. a hundred men were transferring freight from the constantine to the korsackoff, and made a busy scene. four men carrying a box of muskets ran against me on a narrow plank, and had not my good friend the doctor seized me i should have plunged headlong into the river. the hey-day in my blood was tame; i had no desire to fall into _l'amour_ at that season. at eleven there came an invitation to lunch with the governor at two. "how is this?" i said to the doctor; "start at twelve and lunch here two hours later!" smiling the doctor replied: "i see you have not yet learned our customs. the governor is the autocrat, and though the captain positively declares he will start at noon you need not be uneasy. he will not go till you are on board, and very likely you will meet him at lunch." at two o'clock i was at the governor's, where i found the anxious captain. when our lunch was finished madame pedeshenk gave me some wild grapes of native production. they were about the size of peas, and quite acid in taste. with cultivation they might be larger and better flavored, just as many of our american grapes have improved in the past twenty years. some of the hardier grapes might be successfully grown on the middle amoor, but the cold is too long and severe for tender vines. attached to his dwelling the governor has a hot-house that forms a pleasant retreat in winter. he hopes to introduce vines and raise hot-house grapes in siberia within a few years. i walked to the boat with doctor and madame snider, our promenade being enlivened by a runaway horse that came near dragging a cart over us. the governor and his lady were there, with nearly all the officers, and after saying adieu i stepped on board, and we left the pier. we waved kerchiefs again and again as long as waves could be seen. there was a cabin on the korsackoff about eight feet square, with four small rooms opening out of it. borasdine and i had two of these. my apartment had two bunks and no bedding, but the deficiency was atoned for by a large number of hungry and industrious fleas. of my blankets and pillow i made my own bed, and slept in it as on the ingodah. my only chair was a camp stool i carried from san francisco with the design of giving it away on reaching the end of my water travel. going on board the steamer i met a drunken priest endeavoring to walk to the pier, and in the cabin i found another lying on a sofa, and, as i supposed, very ill. borasdine observed my look of compassion, and indicated by signs the cause of the malady. the priest going ashore had been saying farewell to the one on board, and their partings were such as press the life from out young hearts and bottles. our holy passenger did not feel himself again until the next day. there are many good men among the priests of the eastern church in siberia, but it must also be admitted there are many bad ones. in a country where the clergy wields as great power as in russia the authorities should take care that the representatives of the church set a good example. the intemperance so prevalent among the peasantry is partly due to the debaucheries of the priesthood. where the people follow their religious leaders with blind faith and obey their commands in all the forms of worship, are they not in danger of following the example of drunkenness? russian officers frequently spoke of the condition of the church in eastern siberia, and declared with emphasis that it needed reformation. "our priests," said one, "have carried our religion wherever our armies have carried conquest, and their efforts to advance christianity deserve all praise. but abuses exist and have grown up, and the whole system needs to be arranged anew." we had much freight on board, consisting chiefly of muskets for the province of the trans-baikal. there were many passengers that lived literally on deck. they were aft of the engines and above our cabin. on deck we had the forward part of the boat as on the ingodah. the deck passengers were soldiers, and cossacks in their long grey coats, and peasants of all ages in garments of sheepskin. there were women with infants, and women without infants, the former being the more numerous. they were on deck day and night, unless when opportunity offered to go on shore. they did their cooking at the galley or at a stove near the stern of the boat. they never made any noise or disturbance, beyond the usual confusion where many persons are confined in a small space. there were three horses tied just over my cabin with only a single plank between their heels and my head. nearly every night their horse polkas and galops disturbed my sleep. sometimes early in the morning, when the frost was biting, they would have kicking matches of twenty or thirty minutes, conducted with the greatest vigor. the temporary stable was close to the cabin skylight, so that we had the odors of a barn-yard without extra charge. this would have been objectionable under other circumstances, but the cabin was so dirty that one could not be fastidious about trifles. the captain had a neat cabin of his own on the upper deck, and did not trouble himself much about the quarters of his passengers, as the regulations do not require him to look after their welfare. he was a careful commander and prompt in discharging his duties. by law steamboat captains cannot carry their wives on board. this officer had a little arrangement by which he was able to keep the word of promise to the ear and break it to the hope. we were short of fuel at starting, and barely escaped trouble in consequence. the first pile visible contained only a cord or two; we took this and several posts that had been fixed in the ground to mark the locality. when this supply was burned we cut up our landing planks and all the spare bits of wood we could find. a court of inquiry was held over the horse-troughs, but they were considered too much water-soaked for our purpose. as a last resort i had a pound of candles and a flask of brandy, but we happily reached a wood-station without using my light baggage. the korsackoff was an iron boat of a hundred horse power, with hull and engines of english make. her cabins were very small and as dirty as diminutive. there was no cabin steward, and i sincerely believe there had never been one. we were warned of this before leaving blagoveshchensk, and by way of precaution purchased enough bread, pickles, cheese, mustard, preserves, candles, etc., to stock a modest grocery. we bought eggs at the landings, and arranged for the samovar every morning. we engaged a cossack passenger as our servant for the voyage, and when we wished our eggs boiled we sent him with them to the cook. of course we had an arrangement with the latter functionary. our next move was to make terms with the captain's steward for a dinner at the hour when he fed his chief. our negotiations required much diplomacy, but our existence depended upon it, and what will not man accomplish when he wants bread and meat? we spread our table in one of our rooms. for breakfast we took tea and boiled eggs, and for dinner we had cabbage soup, roast beef or fowl, and cutlets. the cook succeeded very well, and as our appetites were pretty sharp we voted the dinners a success. we used our own bread, tea, pickles, and preserves, employing the latter as a concluding dish. our cossack was not very skillful at housework, and made many blunders in serving. frequently he brought the soup tureen before arranging the table, and it took him some time to learn the disadvantage of this practice. leaving blagoveshchensk the country continued level near the river, but the mountains gradually approached it and on the south bank they came to the water fifteen or twenty miles above sakhalin-oula. on the north the plain was wider, but it terminated about forty miles above blagoveshchensk,--a series of low hills taking its place. the first day we ran twenty-five or thirty versts before sunset. the river was less than a mile wide, and the volume of water sensibly diminished above the zeya. as the hills approached the river they assumed the form of bluffs or headlands, with plateaus extending back from their summits. the scenery reminded me of lake pepin and the region just above it. on the northern shore, between these bluffs and the river, there was an occasional strip of meadow that afforded clinging room to a russian village. at two or three settlements there was an abundance of hay and grain in stacks, and droves of well fed cattle, that indicated the favorable character of the country. at most villages along the amoor i found the crow and magpie abundant and very tame. at blagoveshchensk several of these birds amused me in sharing the dinner of some hogs to the great disgust of the latter. when the meal was finished they lighted on the backs of the hogs and would not dismount until the latter rolled in the dirt. no one appears to think them worth shooting, and i presume they do no damage. one day walking on shore i saw a flock of pigeons, and returned to the boat for borasdine's gun. as i took it i remarked that i would shoot a few pigeons for dinner. "never think of it," said my friend. "and why?" "because you will make the peasants your enemies. the news would spread that you had killed a pigeon, and every peasant would dislike you." "for what reason?" "the pigeon or dove is held sacred throughout russia. he is the living symbol of the holy spirit in the faith of the eastern church, and he brought the olive branch to the ark when the flood had ceased. no russian would harm one of these birds, and for you to do so would show disrespect to the religion of the country." i went on shore again, but without a gun. every day we saw rafts moving with the stream or tied along the shore. they were of logs cut on the upper amoor, and firmly fastened with poles and withes. an emigrant piles his wagon and household goods on a raft, and makes a pen at one side to hold his cattle. two or three families, with as many wagons and a dozen or twenty animals, were frequently on one raft. a pile of earth was the fire place, and there was generally a tent or shelter of some kind. cattle were fed with hay carried on board, or were turned ashore at night to graze. [illustration: emigrants on the amoor.] some rafts were entirely laden with cattle on their way to market or for government use at nicolayevsk. this is the most economical mode of transportation, as the cattle feed themselves on shore at night, and the rafts float with the current by day. a great deal of heavy freight has been carried down the amoor in this way, and losses are of rare occurrence. the system is quite analogous to the flat-boat navigation of the mississippi before steamboats were established. we met a few russian boats floating or propelled by oars, one of them having a crew of six cossacks and making all haste in descending. we supposed it contained the mail due at blagoveshchensk when we left. the government has not enough steamers to perform its service regularly, and frequently uses row boats. the last mail at blagoveshchensk before my arrival came in a rowboat in fifteen days from stratensk. ascending the river we made slow progress even without a barge. our machinery was out of order and we only carried half steam. we ran only by day, and unfortunately the nights had a majority of the time. we frequently took wood in the middle of the day, and on such occasions lost from one to three hours. our average progress was about sixty miles a day. i could not help contrasting this with journeys i have made on the mississippi at the rate of two hundred miles in twenty-four hours. a government boat has no occasion to hurry like a private one, and the pilot's imperfect knowledge of the amoor operates against rapidity. in time i presume the siberian boats will increase their speed. the second day from blagoveshchensk we were where the amoor flows twenty-five versts around a peninsula only one verst wide. just above this, at the village of korsackoff, was the foot of another bend of twenty-eight versts with a width of three. borasdine and i proposed walking and hunting across the last neck of land, but the lateness of the hour forbade the excursion, as we did not wish to pass the night on shore, and it was doubtful if the boat could double the point before dark. we should have crossed the first peninsula had it not been in chinese territory. to prevent possible intrusion the celestials have a guard-house at the bend. at the guard-house we could see half a dozen soldiers with matchlocks and lances. there was a low house fifteen or twenty feet square and daubed with mud according to the chinese custom. there was a quantity of rubbish on the ground, and a couple of horses were standing ready saddled near it. fifty feet from the house was a building like a sentry-box, with two flag-staffs before it; it was the temple where the soldiers worshipped according to the ceremonies of their faith. i have been much with the army in my own country, but never saw a military post of two buildings where one structure was a chapel. above the village of kazakavitch, at the upper extremity of the bend, there was some picturesque scenery. on one side there were precipitous cliffs two or three hundred feet high, and on the other a meadow or plateau with hills in the background. the villages on this part of the river are generally built twenty or thirty feet above high water mark. they have the same military precision that is observed below the zeya, and each has a bath house set in the bank. frequently we found these bath houses in operation, and on one occasion two boys came out clad in the elegant costume of the greek slave, without her fetters. they gazed at the boat with perfect _sang froid_, the thermometer being just above freezing point. the scene reminded me of the careless manners of the natives at panama. opposite komarskoi the cliffs on the chinese shore are perpendicular, and continue so for several miles. at their base there is a strong current, where we met a raft descending nearly five miles an hour. in going against the stream our pilots did not seek the edge of the river like their brethren of the mississippi, but faced the current in the center. possibly they thought a middle course the safest, and remembered the fate of the celebrated youth who took a short route when he drove the sun. two miles above the settlement is cape komara, a perpendicular or slightly overhanging rock of dark granite three hundred feet high. nothing but a worm or an insect could climb its face, and a fall from its top into the river would not be desirable. the russians have erected a large cross upon the summit, visible for some distance up and down the river. above this rock, which appears like a sentinel, the valley is wider and the stream flows among many islands. we saw just below this rock a manjour boat tied to the shore, the crew breakfasting near a fire and the captain smoking in apparent unconcern at a little distance. on the opposite bank there was a chinese custom-house and military station. it had the same kind of house and temple and the same number of men and horses as the post farther down. had it possessed a pile of rubbish and a barking dog the similarity would have been complete. there is abundance of water in the amoor except for drinking purposes. i was obliged to adopt the plan of towing a bottle out of the cabin window till it filled. the deck passengers used to look with wonder on my foreign invention, and doubtless supposed i was experimenting for scientific purposes. i have heard of a captain on the ohio who forbade water to his passengers on account of the low stage of the river. possibly the russian captains are fearful that too much use of water may affect navigation in future years. chapter xx. there is a sameness and yet a variety in the scenery of the amoor two or three hundred miles above komarskoi. the sameness is in the general outlines which can be described; the variety is in the many little details of distance, shadow, and coloring, which no pen can picture. in the general features there are cliffs, hills, ravines, islands, and occasional meadows, with forests of birch, pine, larch, and willow. the meadows are not abundant, and the attractions to settlers generally small. the hills are rugged and, though well timbered, not adapted to agriculture. the pine forests are dark and gloomy, and the leafless birches make the distant hills appear as if thinly snow-clad. the willows are generally upon the islands, and grow with great luxuriance. the large meadows are occupied by russian settlers. many little streams enter the amoor on both sides, but chiefly from the north. there is a famous cliff called sa-ga-yan, where the river has washed and undermined the high bank so that portions fall away every few years. the current strikes this hill with great force, and where it is reflected the water is broken like the rapids above niagara. it is a dangerous spot for small boats, and very difficult for them to ascend. when the expedition of descended the amoor several barges were drawn into an eddy at this cliff and nearly swamped. captain fulyelm and mr. collins, in , were in danger and trouble, especially where the current rebounds from the shore. when our steamer struck this rapid it required all the strength of our engines to carry us through. i desired to examine the shore, but had no opportunity. mr. collins found the bank composed of amygdaloid sand, decomposed rock and sandstone, with many traces of iron. on the beach were chalcedony, cornelian, and agate. two veins of coal have been traced in the cliff, and it is thought a large deposit exists there. the natives have a story that the cliff smokes whenever a human being approaches it, but i saw no indications of smoke as i passed. they consider it the abode of evil spirits, and hold it in great dread. [illustration: sa-ga-yan cliff.] the russians told me that a few wreaths of smoke were visible in summer, caused probably by the decomposition of several coal seams on the upper side of the mountain. up to the present time no coal has been mined along the amoor, though enough is known to exist. the cheapness and abundance of wood will render coal of little importance for many years to come. nicolayevsk is supplied with coal from sakhalin island, where it is abundant and easily worked. iron ore has been discovered on the upper amoor and in the buryea mountains. captain anossoff proposes to erect a smelting establishment at blagoveshchensk, supplying it with iron ore from the buryea region and with coal from the zeya. copper and silver exist in several localities, but the veins have not been thoroughly examined. the mountains are like those in the nerchinsk district that have yielded so richly in precious metals. captain anossoff is the brother of my companion across the pacific, and has seen ten years service in eastern siberia. most of that time he has passed on the amoor and its tributary streams. in many places he found rich deposits of gold, the last and best being on the oldoi river, about a hundred miles north of albazin. a ton of earth yielded six hundred dollars worth of gold. i saw the specimens which the captain took out in person. the gold was like the best gulch or scale gold in california, with nuggets up to four or five ounces in weight. gold has been found in other localities. on several tributaries of the ousuree the chinese have conducted washings for many years. the russian settlers near posyet find gold in the streams flowing into the sea. an engineer officer assured me the washings in that region could be made profitable. the government has recently opened the amoor and its tributaries to private enterprise and invited its citizens to search for gold where they please. this is a concession in the right way, and partially abandons the claim hitherto enforced that all mines belong to the imperial family. some of the surveys of captain anossoff have been for private parties at st. petersburg, and the development of the mineral resources of the amoor is confidently expected in a few years. at present the lack of laborers and machinery is a great drawback, but as the country grows older the mining facilities will increase. it is not impossible that a gold fever will sometime arise on the amoor and extend to america. much of the country i saw along the amoor resembles the gold-bearing regions on the pacific coast. while we were taking wood at a village above sa-ga-yan i walked on shore and stopped at a little brook flowing from the hills. carelessly digging with a stick in the bottom of this brook i brought up some black sand, which i washed on a piece of bark. the washing left two or three shining particles that had every appearance of gold. i wrapped them in a leaf to carry on board the steamer, but as i afterward lost envelope and contents, the value of my discovery is to this day unknown. the original inhabitants along this part of the amoor are wandering tungusians, in no great number and with little wealth. we saw their huts on both banks, principally the southern one. at a russian village where we stopped there was a managre hut or yourt of light poles covered with birch bark. the covering was wound around the framework in horizontal strips that overlapped at the edges like shingles on a house-roof. entering the hut i found a varied assortment of deer skins, cooking and other utensils, dogs, dirt, and children. i gave a small coin to one of the latter, and was immediately surrounded by others who wished to be remembered. the mother of the infants sent one of them to me with a freshly killed goose, which i declined accepting. the head of the establishment examined my watch attentively, but i think his curiosity was simulated, as he must have seen marry watches among the russians. not to be outdone in curiosity, i admired the trappings attached to his belt. these were a knife, a pipe, pouches for bullets, tinder, powder, tobacco, and flints, a pointed iron for cleaning a pipe, and two or three articles whose use i could not ascertain. his dress was a deerskin frock and leggings, and his cap of chinese felt cloth was in several thicknesses and fitted close to his head. outside the hut borasdine gave the man a cigar, but the gift was not appreciated. the native preferred tobacco and was better satisfied when i gave him enough to fill his pipe. the managres smoke the manjourian tobacco, which is raised in large quantities along the middle amoor and the songaree. it is much like connecticut leaf, but has a more pungent flavor, and lacks the delicacy of havana tobacco. men, women, and children are alike addicted to its use. our new acquaintance was a hunter, and allowed us, though with hesitation, to look at his rifle. it had a flint lock of curious construction, the hammer being drawn back to a horizontal position and held in place by a notched piece of bone. the breech-pin was gone, and a piece of stone fixed in the stock filled its place. the breech of the stock was but little larger than the other part, and seemed very awkwardly contrived. a forked stick is carried to form a rest, that ensures the accuracy of aim. powder and lead are so expensive that great economy is shown in their use. i was told these natives were excellent marksmen, and rarely missed a shot. when within proper distance of their game they place their supporting sticks very quickly and with such caution as to make no noise. [illustration: rifle shooting.] one intoxicated aboriginal stood in the group of cossacks on the bank and appeared quarrelsome, but found the russians too good-natured for his purpose. a light shower scattered the crowd and left the inebriate addressing a horse and a wood-pile. on the th of october the weather was like summer, the air still and clear and my thermometer standing at degrees. during the night i found it necessary to take an extra blanket, and at noon of the th the thermometer was at °, with a cloudy sky and a breeze from the northeast. this change of twenty-six degrees was too much for comfort, but of little consequence compared to my subsequent experience. instances have been known of a change of seventy degrees in twelve hours from a sudden shifting of the wind. on the morning of the th we had a light fall of snow, with the air at freezing point and the water at °.[d] [footnote d: i here enter a protest against the fahrenheit thermometer, and think all who have used it to any extent will join me in preferring the centigrade or reaumer scales. centigrade has the freezing point at zero and the boiling point at °. reaumer freezes at zero and boils at °. fahrenheit very clumsily freezes at ° and boils at °. the difference in the graduation of the scale is of much less consequence than the awkwardness of beginning the reading at °. the russians use reaumer's method, and i always envied them their convenience of saying 'there are so many degrees of cold,' or 'so many of heat,' while i was forced to count from ° to use my national scale.] we passed a rock projecting far into the river, with precipitous sides and a sharp summit visible for some distance along the amoor. below it is a small harbor, where the russian steamer mala nadeshda (little hope) passed the winter of . she was on her way to stratensk, carrying admiral puchachin on his return from a mission to japan. caught by ice the nadeshda wintered under shelter of this rock, while the admiral became a horse marine and mounted a saddle for a ride of four hundred miles. since that time the rock has borne the name of the boat it protected. in most of the villages there are schools for educating the boys of the cossacks and peasants. some pupils are admitted free, while from others a small fee is required. occasionally i saw boys flocking to the schools at sound of the master's bell, or coming out at recess or dismissal. i had no opportunity to inspect one of these establishments, but presume my description of the one at mihalofski will answer for all. the youths were as noisy as school-boys everywhere, and when out of restraint indulged in the same hilarity as if born on the banks of the hudson or the thames. at noon on the th we stopped at albazin to leave passengers and take wood. it was sunday, and the population appeared in its best clothing, a few of the women sporting crinoline, and all wearing their best calicoes. among the men there were cossacks and soldiers in their grey coats or in plain cloth and sheepskin. i saw a few yakuts with the narrow eyes of the tunguze and their clothing of deerskin. a few orochons stood apart from the russians, but not less observant of the boat and those on board. outside the village were three or four conical yourts belonging to the aboriginals. it is said this people formerly lived in the province of yakutsk, whence they emigrated to the amoor in . one of their chiefs has a hunting knife with the initials of the empress catherine. it was presented to an ancestor of the present owner. albazin is finely situated on a plateau fifty feet high and extending some distance back to the mountains. opposite is a small river abounding in fish, and in front an island several thousand acres in extent and very fertile. though less than seven years old, albazin had already begun to sell grain for transportation to nerchinsk. a steamer laden with grain left for stratensk three days before our arrival. albazin is of historical interest to the russians. in the year a polish adventurer named chernigofsky built a fort at albazin. that his men might not be without the comforts of religion he brought a priest, who founded a church at the new settlement. it is related that when organizing his expedition he forcibly seized this priest and kept him under guard during the journey to the amoor. the chinese twice besieged albazin, once with eighteen thousand men, and afterward with nearly double that number. the russians resisted a long time, and were only driven from the amoor by the famous treaty of nerchinsk in . when i landed at albazin, captain porotof, superintendent of the russian settlements between that point and komarskoi, guided me through the ruins. the present village of albazin is inside the line of chinese works, and the church occupies the interior of the old fort. all the lines of intrenchment and siege can be easily seen, the fort being distinctly visible from the river. its walls are about ten feet high, and the ditch is partially filled from the washing of earth during the many years since the evacuation. a drain that carries water from the church has cut a hole through the embankment. in it i could see the traces of the trees and brushwood used in making the fort. in the fort and around it cannon shot, bullets, arrow heads, and pieces of pottery are frequently found. a few years ago a magazine of rye was discovered, the grains being perfect and little injured by time. captain porotof gave me two chinese cannon shot recently found there and greatly roughened on the surface by the action of rust. the position and arrangement of their batteries and lines of circumvallation show that the chinese were skilled in the art of war. albazin was valuable to the early adventurers on account of the fine sables taken in its vicinity. it is important now for the same reason. the albazin sable is the best on the amoor; that of the buryea mountains is next, and that from blagoveshchensk is third in grade. at several places i saw these furs, but found none of them equaling the furs of kamchatka. some interesting stories about the siege of albazin are told by the russians. while the siege was progressing and the garrison was greatly distressed for want of food, chernigofsky sent a pie weighing forty or fifty pounds to the chinese commander to convince him that the fort was abundantly supplied. the latter was so delighted with the gift that he sent back for more, but his request was unheeded. he probably saw through the little game they were attempting to play on him and determined to beat them at it. history does not say whether the pie was pork, mutton, or anything else. possibly the curs of albazin may have entered into its composition. [illustration: tail piece--game] chapter xxi. above albazin the amoor steadily narrows; the hills are more rugged; the trees less luxuriant; the meadows fewer, and the islands less extensive. on the morning of the th my thermometer was at + °, and the trees on the shore were white with frost. the deck passengers shivered around the engines and endeavored to extract heat from them. the cabin passengers, excepting myself, were wrapped in their fur coats as if it were midwinter. i walked about in my ordinary clothing, finding the air bracing but not uncomfortable. i could not understand how the russians felt the cold when it did not affect me, and was a little proud of my insensibility to frost. conceit generally comes of ignorance, and as i learned, wisdom i lost my vanity about resisting cold. nearly every day on the korsackoff i was puzzled at finding laurel leaves in the soup, and did not understand it till i saw a barrel of beef opened. there were lots of laurel leaves packed with the meat, and i learned that they assist the preservative qualities of the salt and give an agreeable flavor. i can speak in favor of the latter theory, but know nothing about the former. the ancient romans wore laurel crowns, but they did not prevent the decline and fall of their empire. possibly the russians may have better success in saving their beef by the use of the laurel. during a fog on the river we grazed a rock, slid upon a sandbar, and then anchored, as we should have done at first. when in motion we employed all possible time, and, considering the state of our engines, made very good progress. borasdine learned from our cossack the explanation of this haste. "the pilots, firemen, and nearly all the crew," said the cossack, "have their wives at stratensk, and are anxious to winter with them. if the boat is frozen in below there they must remain till she thaws out again. consequently their desire to finish the voyage before the ice is running." at igiratiena i met colonel shobeltsin, an officer identified with all the movements for the final occupation of the amoor. in he made a journey from irkutsk to nicolayevsk, following a route up to that time untraveled. he accompanied mouravieff's expedition in , and was afterward intimately connected with colonization enterprises. a few years ago he retired from service and settled at this village. his face indicates his long and arduous service, and i presume he has seen enough hardship to enjoy comfort for the rest of his days. his house was the best on the amoor above blagoveshchensk and very comfortably furnished. in the principal room there were portraits of many russian notabilities, with lithographs and steel engravings from various parts of the world. among them were two pictures of american country life, bearing the imprint of a new york publisher. i had frequently seen these lithographs in a window on nassau street, little thinking i should find them on the other side of the world. one room was quite a museum and contained a variety of articles made by manjours and tunguze. there were heads of deer, sable, and birds, while a quantity of furs hung near the door. with a spirit of hospitality the colonel prepared us a breakfast during our brief stay, and invited us to join him in the beverage of the country. when we returned to the boat the steward was superintending the killing of a bullock at the bank. half a dozen wolfish dogs were standing ready to breakfast as soon as the slaughtering was over. a cossack officer in a picturesque costume stood on the bank near the boat. he wore an embroidered coat of sheepskin, the wool inside, a shaggy cap of coal-black wool, and a pair of fur-topped boots. all his garments were new and well fitting, and contrasted greatly with the greasy and long used coats of the cossacks on the boat. sheepskin garments can look more repulsive than cloth ones with equal wearing. age can wither and custom stale their infinite variety. winding among the mountains and cliffs that enclose the valley we reached in the evening a village four miles below the head of the amoor. i rose at daybreak on the th to make my adieus to the river. the morning was clear and frosty, and the stars were twinkling in the sky, save in the east where the blush of dawn was visible. the hills were faintly touched with a little snow that had fallen during the night. the trunks of the birches rose like ghosts among the pines and larches of the forest, while craggy rocks pushed out here and there like battlements of a fortress. the pawing steamer with her mane of stars breasted the current with her prow bearing directly toward the west. "just around that point," said the first officer of the korsackoff as he directed his finger toward a headland on the chinese shore, "you will see the mouth of the argoon on the left and the shilka on the right;--wait a moment, it is not quite time yet." when we rounded the promontory dawn had grown to daylight, and the mountains on the south bank of the argoon came into view. a few minutes later i saw the defile of the shilka. between the streams the mountains narrowed and came to a point a mile above the meeting of the waters. on the delta below the mountains is the russian village and cossack post of oust-strelka (arrow mouth,) situated in latitude ° ' " north, and longitude ° ' " east. it is on the argoon side of the delta and contains but a few houses. i knew by the smoke that so gracefully curled in the cold atmosphere that the inhabitants were endeavoring to make themselves comfortable. the amoor is formed by the union of these rivers, just as the ohio is formed by the allegheny and monongahela. geographers generally admit that the parent stream of a river is the one whose source is farthest from the junction. the argoon flows from the lake koulon, which is filled by the river kerolun, rising in the kentei khan mountains in northern mongolia. together the argoon and kerolun have a development of more than a thousand miles. there are many cossacks settled along the argoon as a frontier guard. the river is not navigable, owing to numerous rocks and rapids. genghis khan, who subdued china and began that wonderful career of tartar conquest that extended to middle europe, was born on the banks of the kerolun. some of his early battles were fought in its valley. the shilka is formed by the onon and ingodah, that rise in the region north of the head waters of the kerolun. from the sources of the onon to oust-strelka is a distance of seven hundred and fifty miles. there are many gold mines along this river, and the whole mountain chain is known to be rich in minerals. including its tributaries on both sides and at its formation, the amoor as it flows into the gulf of tartary drains a territory of , square miles. there is a little island just below the point of land extending between the two rivers. as we approached it the steamer turned to the right and proceeded up the shilka, leaving the amoor behind us. i may never see this great river again, but i shall never forget its magnificent valley and its waters washing the boundaries of two empires and bringing the civilization of the east and west in contact. i shall never forget its many islands, among which we wound our tortuous way; its green meadows, its steep cliffs, and its blue mountains, that formed an ever-changing and ever beautiful picture. i shall never forget its forests where the yellow hues of autumn contrasted with the evergreen pine and its kindred, and which nature has lavishly spread to shield the earth from the pitiless storm and give man wherewith to erect his habitation and light his hearthstone with generous fire. mountain, hill, forest, island, and river will rise to me hereafter in imagination as they rose then in reality. a voyage along the entire course of the amoor is one that the longest lifetime cannot efface from the memory. for a hundred and sixty years the little post of oust-strelka was the most easterly possession of russia in the amoor valley. in lieutenant general mouravieff, having been appointed governor general of eastern siberia, determined to explore the river. in the following spring he sent an officer with four cossacks to descend the amoor as far as was prudent. the officer took a liberal supply of presents for the people along the banks, and was instructed to avoid all collisions with the natives and not to enter their towns. from the day of his departure to the present nothing has ever been heard of him or his men. diligent inquiries have been made among the natives and the chinese authorities, but no information gained. it is supposed the party were drowned by accident, or killed by hostile residents along the river. in and the three following years the mouth of the amoor was examined and settlements founded, as already described. the year is memorable for the first descent of the amoor by a military expedition. the outbreak of the crimean war rendered it necessary to supply the russian fleet in the pacific. the colonies on the pacific needed provisions, and the amoor offered the only feasible route to send them. general mouravieff made his preparations, and obtained the consent of his government to the important step. he asked the permission of the chinese, but those worthies were as dilatory as usual, and mouravieff could not wait. he left shilikinsk on the th of may, escorted by a thousand soldiers with several guns, and carrying an ample supply of provisions for the pacific fleet. the chinese made no actual opposition, but satisfied themselves with counting the boats that passed. mouravieff supplied the fleet at the mouth of the amoor, and then returned by way of ayan to irkutsk. the troops were left to garrison the fortified points on or near the sea. in three more expeditions left shilikinsk with soldiers and colonists. general mouravieff accompanied the first of these expeditions and went directly to nicolayevsk. the allied fleet attempted to enter the amoor but could not succeed. the general sent his compliments to the english admiral and told him to come on if he could and he should be warmly received. in a few cossack posts were established along the river, and in the next year nearly three thousand cossacks were sent there. the chinese made a formal protest against these movements, and there were fears of a hostile collision. the reverses that china suffered from the english and french prevented war with russia, and in mouravieff concluded a treaty at igoon by which the russian claim to the country north of the amoor and east of the ousuree was acknowledged. the russians were thus firmly established, and the development of the country has progressed peacefully since that period. as the argoon from its mouth to lake kerolun forms the boundary between the empires i lost sight of china when we entered the shilka. as i shivered on the steamer's bridge, my breath congealing on my beard, and the hills beyond the amoor and argoon white with the early snow of winter, i could not see why the celestials call their land the 'central flowery kingdom.' the shilka has a current flowing four or five miles an hour. the average speed of the korsackoff in ascending was about four miles. the river wound among mountains that descended to the water without intervening plateaus, and only on rare occasions were meadows visible. the forests were pine and larch, with many birches. the lower part of the shilka has very little agricultural land, and the only settlements are the stations kept by a few cossacks, who cut wood for the steamers and supply horses to the post and travelers in winter. the first night after leaving the amoor there was a picturesque scene at our wooding station. the mountains were revealed by the setting moon, and their outline against the sky was sharply defined. we had a large fire of pine boughs burning on the shore, and its bright flames lighted both sides of the river. the boatmen in their sheepskin coats and hats walked slowly to and fro, and gave animation to the picture. while i wrote my journal the horses above me danced as though frolicking over a hornet's nest, and reduced sentimental thoughts to a minimum. to render the subject more interesting two officers and the priest grew noisy over a triple game of cards and a bottle of vodki. i wrote in my overcoat, as the thermometer was at ° with no fire in the cabin. we frequently met rafts with men and horses descending to supply the post stations, or bound on hunting excursions. i was told that the hunters float down the river on rafts and then make long circuits by land to their points of departure. the siberian squirrel is very abundant in the mountains north of the shilka, and his fur is an important article of commerce. we stopped at gorbitza, near the mouth of the gorbitza river, that formerly separated russia and china and was the boundary up to . above this point the villages had an appearance of respectable age not perceptible in the settlements along the amoor. ten or twelve miles from our wooding place we met ice coming out of the chorney river, but it gave us no inconvenience. the valley became wider and the hills less abrupt, while the villages had an air of irregularity more pleasing than the military precision on the amoor. i saw many dwellings on which decay's effacing fingers were busy. the telegraph posts were fixed above gorbitza, but the wires had not been strung. there were many haystacks at the villages, and i could see droves of cattle and sheep on the cleared hills. at one landing i found a man preparing his house for winter by calking the seams with moss. under the eaves of another house there were many birds that resembled american swallows. i could not say whether they were migratory or not, but if the former they were making their northern stay a late one. their twitterings reminded me of the time when i used to go at nightfall, 'when the swallows homeward fly,' and listen to the music without melody as the birds exchanged their greetings, told their loves, and gossipped of their adventures. [illustration: preparing for winter.] just at sunset we reached shilikinsk, a town stretching nearly two miles along the river, on a plateau thirty feet high. we stopped in the morning where there was abundance of wood, but only took enough to carry us to shilikinsk. there was a lady in the case. our first officer had a feminine acquaintance at the town, and accordingly wished to stop for wood, and, if possible, to pass the night there. his plan failed, as no wood could be discovered at shilikinsk, though our loving mate scanned every part of the bank. we had enough fuel to take us a few miles farther, where we found wood and remained for the night. the disappointed swain pocketed his chagrin and solaced himself by playing the agreeable to a lady passenger. i saw in the edge of the town a large building surrounded with a palisaded wall. "what is that?" i asked, pointing to the structure new to my eyes. "it is a station for exiles," was my friend's reply, "when they pass through the town. they generally remain here over night, and sometimes a few days, and this is their lodging. you will see many such on your way through siberia." "is it also the prison for those who are kept here permanently?" "no; the prison is another affair. the former prison at shilikinsk has been converted into a glass manufactory. just behind it is a large tannery, heretofore celebrated throughout eastern siberia for its excellent leather." as we proceeded the country became more open and less mountainous, and i saw wide fields on either side. a road was visible along the northern bank of the river, sometimes cut in the hillside where the slope was steep. on the southern bank there was no road beyond that for local use. the telegraph followed the northern side, but frequently left the road to take short cuts across the hills. we struck a rock ten miles from our journey's end, and for several minutes i thought we should go gracefully to the bottom. we whirled twice around on the rock before we left it, and our captain feared we had sprung a leak. when once more afloat borasdine and i packed our baggage and prepared for the shore. we ate the last of our preserves and gave sundry odds and ends to the cossacks. as a last act we opened the remaining bottles of a case of champagne, and joined officers and fellow passengers in drinking everybody's health. late in the afternoon of the th october we were in sight of stratensk. the summer barracks were first visible, and a moment later i could see the church dome. in nearly all russian towns the churches are the first objects visible on arriving and the last on departing. tho house of worship is no less prominent in the picture of a russian village than the ceremonies of religion in the daily life of the people. there was a large crowd on the bank to welcome us. officers, soldiers, merchants, cossacks, peasants, women, children, and dogs were in goodly numbers. our own officers were in full uniform to make their calls on shore. the change of costume that came over several passengers was interesting in the extreme. at last the steamer ceased her asthmatic wheeze and dropped her anchor at the landing. we gave our baggage to a cossack to take to the hotel. soon as the rush over the plank was ended i walked ashore from the korsackoff for the last time. so ended, for the present, my water journeying. i had zig-zagged from new york a distance, by my line of travel, not less than fifteen thousand miles. the only actual land route on my way had been forty-seven miles between aspinwall and panama. i had traveled on two ocean passenger-steamers, one private steamer of miniature size, a russian corvette, a gunboat of the siberian fleet, and two river boats of the amoor flotilla. not a serious accident had occurred to mar the pleasure of the journey. there had been discomforts, privations, and little annoyances of sufficient frequency, but they only added interest to the way. the proverb well says there is no rose without a thorn, and it might add that the rose would be less appreciable were there no thorn. half our pleasures have their zest in the toil through which they are gained. in travel, the little hardships and vexations bring the novelties and comforts into stronger relief, and make the voyager's happiness more real. it is an excellent trait of human nature that the traveler can remember with increased vividness the pleasing features of his journey while he forgets their opposites. privations and discomforts appeal directly to the body; their effect once passed the physical system courts oblivion. pleasures reach our higher being, which experiences, enjoys, and remembers. [illustration: tail piece] chapter xxii. stratensk is neither large nor handsome. the most i saw of it was near the hotel whither we went from the boat. the rooms we were shown into faced the river, and had high walls decorated with a few pictures. my apartment had a brick stove in one corner, a table, three or four chairs, and a wide sofa or cushioned bench without a back. this last article served as bed by night and seat by day. no bed clothing is furnished in a siberian hotel, each traveler being expected to carry his own supply. the government has a foundry and repair shop two miles above the town, where several steamers pass the winter and have their machinery repaired. immediately on arrival we sent to request mr. lovett, the gentleman in charge of the works, to call upon us. he responded promptly, and came while we were at supper. being english and with a slight tendency to _embonpoint_, he readily accepted several bottles of 'bass & co.' that remained from our small stores. he was accompanied by captain ivashinsoff, who spoke english easily and well. his knowledge of it was obtained rather romantically as the story was told me. two years earlier this officer happened in hong kong and during his stay an american vessel arrived. her captain had been seriously ill for some weeks and totally incapable of duty. the first mate died on the voyage, and the second was not equal to the difficulties of navigation. the captain was accompanied by his daughter, who had been several years at sea and learned the mysteries of bowditch more as a pastime than for anything else. in the dilemma she assumed control of the ship, making the daily observation and employing the mate as executive officer. when they reached hong kong the captain was just recovering. the young woman came on shore, saw and conquered the russian. neither spoke the other's language, and their conversation was conducted in french. after their marriage they began to study, and had made such progress that i found the captain speaking good english, and learned that the lady was equally fluent in russian. she was living at stratensk at the time of my visit, and i greatly regretted that our short stay prevented my seeing her. she was a native of chelsea, massachusetts, and was said to enjoy her home on the amoor. three or four steamers were in winter quarters, and the korsackoff was to join them immediately. both at stratensk and nicolayevsk it is the custom to remove the machinery from steamers during winter. it is carefully housed to prevent its rusting, and i presume to lessen the loss in case of fire or damage from breaking ice. we talked with our new friends till late in the evening, and then prepared to continue our journey. lovett gave me his blessing and a feather pillow; the former to cover general accidents and the latter to prevent contusions from the jolting vehicle. borasdine obtained a cossack to accompany us on the road and ordered our baggage made ready. the cossack piled it into a wagon and it was transported to the ferry landing and dumped upon the gravel. we followed and halted in front of the palisaded hotel of the exiles. the ferry boat was on the opposite shore, four or five hundred yards away. borasdine called, but the boatmen did not rise. "dai sloopka!" (send a boat.) after a moment's pause he repeated: "dai sloopka!" he added the usually magic word "courier!" but it had no effect. he shouted repeatedly and grew hoarse. then i lifted up my voice like a pelican in the wilderness, but with no better effect. when we had almost reached the pitch of despair a man appeared from behind a wood pile and tried his vocal organs in our behalf. at his second call a reply was given, and very soon a light twinkled at the ferry house. [illustration: stratensk, eastern siberia.] the boat was a long time coming, and while we waited its arrival a drunken bouriat made himself unpleasantly familiar. as often as i changed my position he would come to my side and endeavor to rest his dirty arm on my shoulder. i finally walked through a pile of brushwood and crooked sticks, which was too much for the native with his weak knees and muddy brain. after struggling with a persistency that would have been commendable had the object to be attained been commensurate to the effort, he became inextricably tangled, and i left him in the loving embrace of a decayed tree-top. the boat came with four shaggy ferrymen, who had some difficulty in reaching land. it was a kind of large skiff, high at both ends and having a platform, like that of a hay-scale, in the center. the platform projected a foot or more beyond the sides of the boat, and had no railing to prevent a frightened horse or drunken man going overboard. this is the general style of river ferry boats in siberia. the boatmen do not appear very skillful in handling them, but i learned that serious accidents were very rare. we piled our baggage and left the shore, running upon two rocks and colliding with a sandbar before getting fairly away. i fell asleep during the crossing, satisfied that the crew did not need my assistance. we landed where the road is cut into the rocky bank, and were obliged to lift the baggage over a pile of stony debris. the boatmen said it was impossible to go to the regular landing, but i suspect they wished an extra gratuity for handling our impedimenta. before the work was finished they regretted their manoeuvre. as we touched the shore one man went to the station to bring horses and a vehicle. borasdine and i scrambled over the rocks to the road fifteen feet above the water, and by the time the crew brought up our baggage the conveyance arrived. it was what the russians call a _telyaga_, drawn by three horses. this carriage is of quaker simplicity. there are four wheels on wooden axles, with rough but strong 'reaches.' a body, shaped something like an old-fashioned baby-cart, rests upon the reaches or on poles fixed over them. the hood protects against wind and rain from behind, and the best of the vehicles have boots buttoned in front and attached to the hoods. the driver sits on the bow directly behind the shaft-horse, and one part of his duty is to keep from falling off. the traveler spreads his baggage inside as evenly as possible to form a bed or cushion. angular pieces should be discarded, as the corners are disagreeable when jolted against one's sides. two shafts are fixed in the forward axle, and a horse between them forms a sort of _point d'appui_. any number from one to six can be tied on outside of him. the fault of our baggage was that we, or rather i, had too much. worst of all, i had a wooden trunk that i proposed throwing away at nicolayevsk, but had been told i could carry to irkutsk without trouble. it could not ride inside, or if it did we could not. we placed the small articles in the interior of the vehicle, and tied the trunk and borasdine's _chemadan_ on the projecting poles behind. the _chemadan_ is in universal use among siberian travelers, and admirably adapted to the road. it is made of soft leather, fastens with a lacing of deer-skin thongs, and can be lashed nearly water tight. it will hold a great deal,--i never saw one completely filled,--and accommodates itself to the shape of its aggregate contents. it can be of any size up to three or four feet long, and its dimensions are proportioned to each other about like those of an ordinary pocket-book. a great advantage is the absence of sharp corners and the facility of packing closely. we acted contrary to the custom of the country in tying our baggage behind. there are gentlemen of the road in siberia as there are 'road agents' in california. the siberian highwaymen rarely disturb the person of a traveler, but their chief amusement is to cut away outside packages. as a precaution we mounted our cossack on the trunk, but before we went a mile he fell from his perch in spite of his utmost efforts to cling to the vehicle. after that event he rode by the driver's side. on seeing lovett at stratensk my first question related to the condition of the road. "horrid," said he. "the worst time to travel. there has been much rain and cold weather. you will find mud either soft or frozen most of the way to chetah." before we started the driver brought an additional horse, and after a preliminary kick or two we took the road. for a few miles we went up and down hills along the edge of the river, where the route has been cut at much labor and expense. this was not especially bad, the worst places being at the hollows between the hills where the mud was half-congealed. when we left the river we found the mud that lovett prophesied. quality and quantity were alike disagreeable. all roads have length more or less; ours had length, breadth, depth, and thickness. the bottom was not regular like that of the atlantic, but broken into inequalities that gave an uneasy motion to the telyaga. to travel in siberia one must have a _padaroshnia_, or road pass, from the government authorities, stating the number of horses to which he is entitled. there are three grades of padaroshnia; the first for high officials and couriers; the second for officers on ordinary business; and the third for civilian travelers. the first and second are issued free to those entitled to receive them, and the third is purchased at the rate of half a copeck a verst. these papers serve the double purpose of bringing revenue to government and preventing unauthorized persons traveling about the country. a traveler properly provided presents his papers at a post-station and receives horses in his turn according to the character of his documents. a person with a courier's pass is never detained for want of animals; other travelers must take their chance. of course the second class of passport precedes the third by an inflexible rule. suppose a has a second class and b a third class padaroshnia. a reaches a station and finds b with a team ready to start. if there are no more horses the _smotretal_ (station master) detaches the animals from b's vehicle and supplies them to a. b must wait until he can be served; it may be an hour, a day, or a week. the stations are kept by contract. the government locates a station and its lessee is paid a stipulated sum each year. he agrees to keep the requisite horses and drivers, the numbers varying according to the importance of the route. he contracts to carry the post each way from his station to the next, the price for this service being included in the annual payment. he must keep one vehicle and three horses at all times ready for couriers. couriers, officers, and travelers of every kind pay at each station the rate fixed by law. in kamchatka and north eastern siberia the post route is equipped with dog-teams, just as it has horses in more southerly latitudes. in the northern part of yakutsk the reindeer is used for postal or traveling service. a padaroshnia calls for a given number of horses, usually three, without regard to the number of persons traveling upon it. generally the names of all who are to use it are written on the paper, but this is not absolutely necessary. borasdine had a padaroshnia and so had i, but mine was not needed as long as we kept together. the post carriages must be changed at every station. constant changing is a great trouble, especially if one has much baggage. in a wet or cold night when you have settled comfortably into a warm nest, and possibly fallen asleep, it is an intolerable nuisance to turn out and transfer. to remedy this evil one can buy a _tarantass_, a vehicle on the general principle of the telyaga, but larger, stronger, and better in every way. when he buys there is a scarcity and the price is high, but when he has finished his journey and wishes to sell, it is astonishing how the market is glutted. at stratensk i endeavored to purchase a tarantass, but only one could be had. this was too rheumatic for the journey, and very groggy in the springs, so at the advice of lovett i adhered to the telyaga. the russians apply the term 'equipage' to any vehicle, whether on wheels or runners, and with or without its motive power. it is a generic definition, and can include anything drawn by horses, dogs, deer, or camels. the word sounds very well when applied to a fashionable turnout, but less so when speaking of a dirt-cart or wheelbarrow. the same word, 'equipage,' is used in russian as in french to denote a ship's crew. in this connection i heard an amusing story, vouched for as correct. a few years after the disappearance of sir john franklin the english admiralty requested the russian government to make inquiries for the lost navigator along the coast and islands of the arctic ocean. an order to that effect was sent to the siberian authorities, and they in turn commanded all subordinates to inquire and report. a petty officer some where in western siberia was puzzled at the printed order to 'inquire concerning the english captain, john franklin, and his equipage.' in due time he reported: "i have made the proper inquiries. i can learn nothing about captain franklin; but in one of my villages there is an old sleigh that no one claims, and it may be his equipage." we carried one and sometimes two bells on the yoke of our shaft-horse to signify that we traveled by post. every humbler vehicle was required to give us the entire road, at least such was the theory. sometimes we obtained it, and sometimes the approaching drivers were asleep, and the horses kept their own way. when this occurred our driver generally took an opportunity to bring his whip lash upon the sleeper. it is a privilege he enjoys when driving a post carriage to strike his delinquent fellow man if in reach. i presume this is a partial consolation for the kicks and blows occasionally showered upon himself. humanity in authority is pretty certain to give others the treatment itself has received. only great natures will deal charity and kindness when remembering oppression and cruelty. i was not consulted when our telyaga was built, else it would have been wider and longer. when our small parcels were arranged inside there was plenty of room for one but hardly enough for two. borasdine and i were of equal height, and neither measured a hair's breadth less than six feet. when packed for riding i came in questionable shape, my body and limbs forming a geometric figure that euclid never knew. notwithstanding my cramped position i managed to doze a little, and contemplated an essay on a new mode of triangulation. we rattled our bones over the stones and frozen earth, and dragged and dripped through the mud to the first station. as we reached the establishment our cossack and driver shouted "_courier!_" in tones that soon brought the smotretal and his attendants. they rubbed their half-open eyes and bestirred themselves to bring horses. the word 'courier' invigorates the attachés of a post route, as they well know that the bearer of a courier's pass must not be delayed. ten minutes are allowed for changing a courier's horses, and the change is often made in six or eight minutes. the length of a journey depends considerably upon the time consumed at stations. [illustration: a siberian tarantass.] here we found a tarantass, neither new nor elegant, but strong and capacious. we hired it to nerchinsk, and our cossack transferred the baggage while four little rats of ponies were being harnessed. the harness used on this road was a combination of leather and hemp in about equal proportions. there were always traces of ropes more or less twisted. it is judicious to carry a quantity of rope in one's vehicle for use in case of accident. a russian _yemshick_ (driver) is quite skillful in repairing breakages if he can find enough rope for his purpose. the horses, like many other terrestrial things, were better than they appeared, and notwithstanding the bad road they carried us at good speed. i was told that the horses between stratensk and lake baikal were strangers to corn and oats, and not over familiar with hay. those at the post stations must be fed in the stable, but nearly all others hunt their own food. in summer they can easily do this, but in winter they subsist on the dry grass standing on the hills and prairies. there is little snow in this region, but when it falls on the pastures the horses scrape it away to reach the grass. they are never blanketed, in the coldest weather, and the only brushing they receive is when they run among bushes. in the government of yakutsk there are many horses that find their own living in winter as in summer. they eat grass, moss, fish, bushes, and sometimes the bark of trees. captain wrangell tells of the great endurance of these beasts, and says that like all other animals of that region they shed their coats in the middle of summer. at the second station the smotretal sought our horses among the village peasants, as he had none of his own. he explained that a high official had passed and taken the horses usually kept for the courier. this did not satisfy borasdine, who entered complaint in the regulation book, stating the circumstances of the affair. at every station there is a book sealed to a small table and open to public inspection. an aggrieved traveler is at liberty to record a statement of his trouble. at regular intervals an officer investigates the affairs of every station. complaints are examined, and offences treated according to their character. this wholesome regulation keeps the station masters in proper restraint. day had fairly opened through a dense fog when our delay ended. while we descended a long hill one of our hinder wheels parted company and took a tangent to the road side. we were in full gallop at the time, but did not keep it up long. a pole from a neighboring fence, held by a pole from warsaw, lifted the axle so that the wheel could be replaced. i assisted by leaving the carriage and standing at the roadside till all was ready. we had some doubts about the vehicle holding together much longer, but it behaved very well. the tarantass is a marvel of endurance. to listen to the creaking of its joints, and observe its air of infirmity, lead to the belief that it will go to pieces within a few hours. it rattles and groans and threatens prompt analysis, but some how it continues cohesive and preserves its identity hundreds of miles over rough roads. we were merciless to the horses as they were not ours and we were in a hurry. when the driver allowed them to lag, borasdine ejaculated 'poshol!' with a great deal of emphasis and much effect. this word is like 'faster' in english, and is learned very early in a traveler's career in russia. i acquired it before reaching the first station on my ride, and could use it very skillfully. in the same connection are the words '_droghi_' ('touch up,') '_skorey_' ('hurry,') and '_stupie_' ('go ahead.') all these commands have the accent upon the last syllable, and are very easy to the vocal organs. i learned them all and often used them, but to this day i do not know the russian word for 'slower.' i never had occasion to employ it while in the empire, except once when thrown down an icy slope with a heap of broken granite at its base, and at another time when a couple of pretty girls were standing by the roadside and, as i presumed, wanted to look at me. from stratensk to nerchinsk, a distance of sixty miles, our road led among hills, undulating ground, meadows, and strips of steppe, or prairie, sometimes close to the river, and again several miles away. the country is evidently well adapted to agriculture, the condition of the farms and villages indicating prosperity. i saw much grain in stacks or gathered in small barns. as it was sunday no work was in progress, and there were but few teams in motion anywhere. the roads were such that no one would travel for pleasure, and the first day of the week is not used for business journeys. from the top of a hill i looked into the wide and beautiful valley of the nertcha, which enters the shilka from the north. on its left bank and two or three miles from its mouth is the town of nerchinsk with five or six thousand inhabitants. its situation is charming, and to me the view was especially pleasing, as it was the first russian town where i saw evidences of age and wealth. the domes of its churches glistened in the sunlight that had broken through the fog and warmed the tints of the whole picture. the public buildings and many private residences had an air of solidity. some of the merchants' houses would be no discredit to new york or london. the approach from the east is down a hill sloping toward the banks of the nertcha. we entered the gateway of nerchinsk, and after passing some of the chief buildings drove to the house of mr. kaporaki, where we were received with open arms. borasdine and his acquaintance kissed affectionately, and after their greeting ended i was introduced. we unloaded from the tarantass, piled our baggage in the hallway, and dismissed the driver with the borrowed vehicle. almost before we were out of our wrappings the samovar was steaming, and we sat down to a comforting breakfast, with abundance of tea. and didn't we enjoy it after riding eight or ten hours over a road that would have shaken skimmilk into butter? you bet we did. [illustration: tail piece] chapter xxiii. the heaviest fortunes at nerchinsk have been made in commerce and gold mining, principally the latter. i met one man reputed to possess three million roubles, and two others who were each put down at over a million. mr. kaporaki, our host, was a successful gold miner, if i may judge by what i saw. his dwelling was an edifice somewhat resembling arlington house, but without its signs of decay. the principal rooms i entered were his library, parlor, and dining-room; the first was neat and cozy, and the second elaborately fitted with furniture from st. petersburg. both were hung with pictures and paintings, the former bearing french imprints. his dining-room was in keeping with the rest of the establishment, and i could hardly realize that i was in siberia, five thousand miles from the russian capital and nearly half that distance from the pacific ocean. the realization was more difficult when our host named a variety of wines ready for our use. would we take sherry, port, or madiera, or would we prefer johannisberg, hockheimer, or verzenay? would we try veuve cliquot, or carte d'or? a box of genuine havanas stood upon his library table, and received our polite attention. we arrived about ten in the morning, and on consenting to remain till afternoon a half dozen merchants were invited to join us at dinner. mr. kaporaki's gold mines were on the tributaries of the nertcha, about a hundred miles away. from his satisfied air in showing specimens and figures i concluded his claims were profitable. the mining season had just closed, and he was footing up his gains and losses for the year. the gold he exhibited was in coarse scales, with occasional nuggets, and closely resembled the product i saw a few months earlier of some washings near mariposa. the gold on the nertcha and its tributaries is found in the sand and earth that form the bed of the streams. often it is many feet deep and requires much 'stripping.' i heard of one _priesk_ (claim) where the pay-dirt commenced sixty-five feet from the surface. notwithstanding the great expense of removing the superincumbent earth, the mine had been worked to a profit. twenty or thirty feet of earth to take away is by no means uncommon. the pay-dirt is very rich, and the estimates of its yield are stated at so many _zolotniks_ of gold for a hundred poods of earth. from one pood of dirt, of course unusually rich, mr. kaporaki obtained zolotniks, or three ounces of gold. in another instance ten poods of dirt yielded zolotniks of gold. the ordinary yield, as near as i could ascertain, was what a californian would call five or six cents to the pan. each of these merchant-miners pays to the government fifteen per cent. of all gold he obtains, and is not allowed to sell the dust except to the proper officials. he delivers his gold and receives the money for it as soon as it is melted and assayed. it was hinted to me that much gold was smuggled across the frontier into china, and never saw the treasury of his imperial majesty, the czar. the cossacks of the argoon keep a sharp watch for traffic of this kind. "they either," said my informant, "deliver a culprit over to justice or, what is the same thing, compel him to bribe them heavily to say nothing." nerchinsk formerly stood at the junction of the nertcha and shilka, on the banks of both rivers, but the repeated damage from floods caused its removal. even on its present site it is not entirely safe from inundation, the lower part of the town having been twice under water and in danger of being washed away. many of the present inhabitants are exiles or the descendants of exiles, nerchinsk having been a place of banishment for political and criminal offenders during the last hundred years. those condemned to work in the mines were sent to great nerchinsk zavod, about two hundred miles away. the town was the center of the military and mining district, and formerly had more importance than at present. many participants in the insurrection of were sent there, among them the princes trubetskoi and volbonskoi. after laboring in the mines and on the roads of nerchinsk, they were sent to chetah, where they were employed in a polishing mill. in many stories about siberian exiles, published in england and america, nerchinsk has occupied a prominent position. as far as i could observe it is not a place of perpetual frost and snow, its summers being warm though brief. in winter it has cold winds blowing occasionally from the yablonoi mountains down the valley of the nertcha. the region is very well adapted to agriculture, and the valley as i saw it had an attractive appearance. the product of the nerchinsk mines has been silver, gold, and lead. the search for silver and lead has diminished since the mines were opened to private enterprise. at one time , poods of lead were produced here annually, most of it being sent to the altai mountains to be employed in reducing silver. in most places where explored the country is rich in gold, and i have little doubt that thorough prospecting would reveal many placers equaling the best of those in california. very few exiles are now sent to nerchinsk in comparison with the numbers formerly banished there. under the reign of nicholas and his father nerchinsk received its greatest accessions, the polish revolutions and the revolt of contributing largely to its population. places of exile have always been selected with relation to the offence and character of the prisoners. the worst offenders, either political or criminal, were generally sent to the mines of nerchinsk, their terms of service varying from two to twenty years, or for life. i was told that the longest sentence now given is for twenty years. the condition of prisoners in former times was doubtless bad, and there are many stories of cruelty and extortion practiced by keepers and commandants. the dwellings of prisoners were frequently no better than the huts of savages; their food and clothing were poor and insufficient; they were compelled to labor in half frozen mud and water for twelve or fourteen hours daily, and beaten when they faltered. the treatment of prisoners depended greatly upon the character of the commandant of the mines. of the brutality of some officials and the kindness of others there can be little doubt. we have sufficient proof of the varied qualities of the human heart in the conduct of prison-keepers in america during our late war. there have been many exaggerations concerning the treatment of exiles. i do not say there has been no cruelty, but that less has occurred than some writers would have us believe. before leaving america i read of the rigorous manner in which the sentence of the conspirators of was carried out. according to one authority the men were loaded with chains and compelled to the hardest labor in the mines under relentless overseers. they were badly lodged, fed with insufficient food, and when ill had little or no medical treatment. nearly all these unfortunates were of noble families and never performed manual labor before reaching the mines. they had been tenderly reared, and were mostly young and unused to the hardships of life outside the capitals. thrust at once into the mines of siberia they could hardly survive a lengthened period of the cruelty alleged. most of them served out their sentences and retained their health. some returned to europe after more than thirty years exile, and a few were living in siberia at the time of my visit, forty-one years after their banishment. i conclude they were either blessed with more than iron constitutions, or there is some mistake in the account of their suffering and privation. many attempts have been made to escape from these mines, but very few were completely successful. some prisoners crossed into china after dodging the vigilant cossacks on the frontier, but they generally perished in the deserts of mongolia, either by starvation or at the hands of the natives. i have heard of two who reached the gulf of pecheli after many hardships, where they captured a chinese fishing boat and put to sea. when almost dead of starvation they were picked up by an english barque and carried to shanghae, where the foreign merchants supplied them with money to find their way to paris. a better route than this was by the amoor, before it was open to russian navigation. many who escaped this way lost their lives, but others reached the seacoast where they were picked up by whalers or other transient ships. in three men started for the ohotsk sea, traveling by way of the yablonoi mountains. they had managed to obtain a rifle, and subsisted upon game they killed, and upon berries, roots, and the bark of trees. they escaped from the mines about midsummer, and hoped by rapid travel to reach the coast before winter overtook them. one of the men was killed by falling from a rock during the first month of the journey. the others buried their dead companion as best they could, marking his grave with a cross, though with no expectation it would again be seen by human eyes. traversing the mountains and reaching the tributaries of the aldan river, they found their hardships commencing. the country was rough and game scarce, so that the fugitives were exhausted by fatigue and hunger. they traveled for a time with the wandering tunguze of this region, and were caught by the early snows of winter when the coast was still two hundred miles away. they determined to wait until spring before crossing the mountains. unluckily while with the tunguze they were seen by a russian merchant, who informed the authorities. early in the spring they were captured and returned to their place of imprisonment. the region around the yablonoi mountains is so desolate that escape in that direction is almost impossible. by way of the post route to lake baikal it is equally difficult, as the road is carefully watched and there are few habitations away from the post villages and stations. no one can travel by post without a padaroshnia, and this can only be procured at the chief towns and is not issued to an unknown applicant. i heard a story of a young pole who attempted, some years ago, to escape from exile. he was teacher in a private family and passed his evenings in gambling. at one time he was very successful at cards, and gained in a single week three thousand roubles. with this capital he arranged a plan of escape. by some means he procured a padaroshnia, not in his own name, and announced his intention to visit his friends a few miles away. as he did not return promptly search was made, and it was found that a person answering his description had started toward lake baikal. pursuit naturally turned in that direction, exactly opposite to his real course of flight. he traveled by post with his padaroshnia and reached the vicinity of omsk without difficulty. very injudiciously he quarreled with the drivers at a post station about the payment of ten copecks, which he alleged was an overcharge. the padaroshnia was examined in consequence of the quarrel and found applicable to a russian merchant of the third class, and not for a nobleman, which he claimed to be. the station-master arrested the traveler and sent him to omsk, when his real character was ascertained. on the third day of captivity he bribed his guards and escaped during the night. he remained free more than a month, but was finally recaptured and sent to irkutsk. at nerchinsk i resumed my efforts to purchase a tarantass, but my investigations showed the nerchinsk market 'out' of everything in the tarantass line and no promise of a new crop. fortune and kaporaki favored me, and found a suitable vehicle that i could borrow for the journey to irkutsk. i was to answer for its safety and deliver it to a designated party on my arrival there. the regulations did not permit, or at least encourage, borasdine to invest in vehicles. a courier is expected, unless in winter, to travel by the post carriages. all breakages in that case are at the expense of government, with the possible exception of the courier's bones and head. if a carriage breaks down he takes another and leaves the wreck for the station men to pick up. if he should buy a tarantass and it gave out he would be forced to leave it till he came again, or sell it at any price offered. nothing that relates to his personal comfort is allowed to detain a courier. he can stop only for change of team, hasty meals, and when leaving or taking despatches on his route. sometimes a river gets high and refuses to respect his padaroshnia, or a severe and blinding storm stops all travel. a courier's pass is supposed to command everything short of the elements, and i have a suspicion that some russians believe it powerful _with_ the elements. a courier ought to travel with only his baggage and servant, the former not exceeding pounds. borasdine had cossack and baggage in proper quantity; adding me and my impedimenta, he was hardly in light moving order. i suggested that he drop me and i would trust to luck and my padaroshnia. i had confidence in the good nature of the russians and my limited knowledge of the language. i could exhibit my papers, ask for horses, say i was hungry, and was perfectly confident i could pay out money as long as it lasted. but my companion replied that an extra day on the route would make no difference in his catching the boat to cross lake baikal, and we would remain together until new difficulties arose. having dined we visited the post-station and ordered horses sent to the house of our host. the servants filled our tarantass with baggage, while their master filled us with champagne. the vehicle displayed the best carrying capacity, as it had room for more when our hearts were too full for utterance, save in a half breathed sigh. we rattled out of kaporaki's yard and down to the nertcha, where we had a ferry-boat like the one at stratensk, though a little larger. the horses were detached and remained on the bank until the tarantass was safely on board. there was not much room for them, but they managed to find standing places. by the time we were over the river it was night, and the sentinel stars had set their watch in the sky. we found the road an unpleasant combination of snow, dirt, and water. we had four weak little horses, and the driver told us they had made one journey to the station and back again since morning. in the russian posting system the horses carry loads only one way. the driver takes your vehicle to the station, where he is allowed to rest himself and horses one hour and then starts on his return. in ordinary seasons when the traveling is good, each team of horses will make two round trips in twenty-four hours. this gives them from fifty to seventy miles daily travel, half of it without load and at a gentle pace. after the third station the road improved, the snow and mud diminishing and leaving a comparatively dry track. the stations were generally so uncomfortably hot as to put me in a perspiration, and i was glad to get out of doors. the temperature was about ° fahrenheit, and the air at night contained odors from the breath and boots of dormant _moujiks_. the men sleep on the floor and benches, but the top of the stove is the favorite couch. the stove is of brick as already described, and its upper surface is frequently as wide as a common bed. sometimes the caloric is a trifle abundant, but i have rarely known it complained of. [illustration: favorite bed.] i could never clearly understand the readiness and ability of the russians to endure contrasts of heat and cold with utter complacence and without apparent ill effect. i have seen a yemshick roused at midnight from the top of a stove where he was sleeping in a temperature of eighty-five or ninety degrees. he made his toilet by tightening his waist-belt and putting on his boots. when the horses were ready he donned his cap and extra coat, thrust his hands into mittens, and mounted the front of a sleigh. the cold would be anywhere from ten to fifty degrees below zero, but the man rarely appeared to suffer. in severe weather i hesitated to enter the stations on account of the different temperature of the house and the open air, but the russians did not seem to mind the sudden changes. all natives of northern siberia subject themselves without inconvenience to extremes of heat and cold. major abasa told me that when the cold was ° below zero he had found the koriaks in their yourts with a temperature ° above. they passed from one to the other without a change of clothing and without perspiring. at night they ordinarily slept in their warm dwellings, but when traveling they rested in the snow under the open sky. in his exploration around penjinsk gulf the major saw a woman sleep night after night on the snow in the coldest weather with no covering but the clothing she wore in the day. she would have slept equally well if transferred to a hot room. the yakuts and tunguze are equally hardy. captain wrangell gives examples of their endurance, especially of living in warm rooms or sleeping on the ice at a low temperature. captain cochrane, the english pedestrian, had a wonderful experience with some natives that guided him from the lena to the kolyma. though the captain was an old traveler and could support much cold and fatigue, he was greatly outdone by his guides. he could never easily accommodate himself to wide extremes of heat and cold, and i believe this is the experience of nearly all persons not born and reared under a northern sky. the road from nerchinsk to chetah is through an undulating country, the hills in many places being high enough to merit the name of mountains. sometimes we followed the valley of the ingodah, and again we left it to wind over the hills and far away where the bluffs prevented our keeping near the stream. when we looked upon the river from these mountains the scene was beautiful, and i shall long retain my impression of the loveliness of the ingodah. mr. collins described this valley nine years before me, and with one exception i can confirm all he said of its charms. he had the good fortune to travel in spring when the flowers were in bloom, whereas my journey was late in autumn. my english friend at stratensk spoke of this particular feature of the country, and described the thick carpet of blossoms that in some places almost hid the grass from view. to compensate for the long and dreary winter nature spreads her floral beauties with lavish hand, and converts the once ice-bound region into a landscape of beautiful and fragrant flowers. the valley is fertile and well cultivated, villages and farm houses being frequent. the road was excellent, wide, and well made; much labor had been expended upon it during the last two years. its up and down-ishness was not to my liking, as the horses utterly refused to gallop in ascending hills a mile or two long. the descent was less difficult, but unfortunately we could not have it all descent. we had equal quantities of rising and falling, with the difference against us that we were ascending the valley. fortunately the road was dry and in some places we found it dusty. late in the afternoon we halted for dinner, ordering the samovar almost before we stopped the tarantass. we ordered eggs and bread, and in hopes of something substantial borasdine consulted the mistress of the house. he returned with disgust pictured on his countenance. "have they anything?" i asked. "nothing." "nothing at all?" "no; nothing but mutton." nothing but mutton! _i_ was entirely reconciled. when it came i made a fine dinner, but he took very little of it. there are great flocks of sheep belonging to the bouriats in eastern siberia, and they form the chief support of that people. curiously enough the russians rarely eat mutton, though so abundant around them. borasdine told me it seldom appeared on a siberian table, and i observed that both nobles and peasants agreed in disliking it. while at dinner we caught sight of a pretty face and figure, more to my fellow traveler's taste than the _piece de resistance_ of our meal. after dinner we passed over a hill and entered a level region where we found plenty of mud. about midnight the yemshick exhibited his skill by driving into a mudhole where there was solid ground on both sides. we were hopelessly stuck, and all our cries and utterances were of no avail. the cossack and the driver could accomplish nothing, and we were obliged to descend from the carriage. we required our subordinates to put their shoulders to the wheels, though the operation covered them with mud. while they lifted we shouted to the horses, borasdine in russian and i in french and english. twenty minutes of this toil accomplished nothing. then we unloaded all our baggage down to the smallest articles. another effort and we were still in our slough of despond. i retreated to a neighboring fence and returned with a stout pole. the cossack brought another, and we arranged to lift the fore wheels to somewhere near the surface. it was my duty to urge the horses, and i flattered myself that i performed it. i had the driver's whip to assist my utterance; the others lifted, while i struck and shouted. we had a long pull, a strong pull, and a pull all together, and pulled out of the depths. i attributed no small part of the success to the effect of american horse-vocabulary upon russian quadrupeds. when we reloaded it was refreshing to observe the care with which the cossack had placed our pillows on the wet ground and piled heavy baggage over them. borasdine expressed his objection to this plan in such form that the cossack was not likely to repeat the operation. the motion of the tarantass, especially its jolting over the rough parts of the route, gave me a violent headache, the worst i ever experienced. the journey commenced too abruptly for my system to be reconciled without complaint. nearly four months i had been almost constantly on ships and steamboats, all my land riding in that time not amounting to thirty miles. i came ashore at stratensk and began travel with a russian courier over siberian roads at the worst season of the year. it was like leaving the comforts of a fifth avenue parlor to engage in wood-sawing. at every bound of the vehicle my brain seemed ready to burst, and i certainly should have halted had we not intended delaying at chetah. [illustration: concentrated energies.] a russian yemshick centers his whole duty in driving his team. he gives no thought to the carriage or the persons inside; they must look out for their own interest. let him come to a hill, rough or smooth, rocky or gravelly, provided there be no actual danger, he descends at his best speed. sometimes the horses trot, and again they gallop down a long slope. near the bottom they set out on a full run, as if pursued by a pack of hungry wolves. they dash down the hill, across the hollow, and part way up the opposite ascent without slacking speed. the carriage leaps, bumps, and rattles, and the contents, animate or inanimate, are tossed violently. if there is a log bridge in the hollow the effect is more than electric. the driver does not even turn his head to regard his passengers. if the carriage holds together and follows it is all that concerns him. at first i was not altogether enamored of this practice. but as i never suffered actual injury and the carriages endured their rough treatment, i came in time to like it. as a class the russian yemshicks are excellent drivers, and in riding behind more than three hundred of them i had abundant opportunity to observe their skill. they are not always intelligent and quick to devise plans in emergencies, but they are faithful and know the duties of their profession. for speed and safety i would sooner place myself in their hands than behind professional drivers in new york. they know the rules of the road, the strength and speed of their horses, and are almost uniformly good natured. we reached chetah at five in the morning and roused the inmates of the only hotel. the sleepy _chelavek_ showed us to a room containing two chairs, two tables, and a dirty sofa. the cossack brought our baggage from the tarantass, and we endeavored to sleep. when we rose borasdine went to call upon the governor while i ordered breakfast on my own account. summoning the _chelavek_ i began, "_dai samovar, chi, saher e kleb_," (give the samovar, tea, bread, and sugar.) this accomplished, i procured beefsteaks and potatoes without difficulty. i spoke the language of the country in a fragmentary way, but am certain my russian was not half as bad as the beefsteak. chapter xxiv. chetah stands on the left bank of the ingodah, nearly three hundred miles above stratensk, and is the capital of the trans-baikal province. for many years it was a small town with a few hundred inhabitants, but the opening of the amoor in changed its character. below this point the ingodah is navigable for boats and rafts, and during the early years of the amoor occupation much material was floated down from chetah. in its population, including the garrison, was about five thousand. many houses were large and well fitted, and all were of wood. the officers lived comfortably, but complained of high rents. the governor's mansion is the largest and best, and near it is the club-house where weekly soirees are held. i attended one of these and found a pleasant party. there was music and dancing, tea-drinking and card-playing, gossip and silence at varied and irregular intervals. some of the officers read selections from russian authors, and others recited pieces of prose and poetry. there were dialogues, evidently humorous to judge by the mirth they produced, and there was a paper containing original contributions. the association appeared prosperous, and i was told that its literary features were largely due to the efforts of the governor. there is a _gastinni-dvor_ or row of shops and a market-place surrounded with huckster's stalls, much like those near fulton ferry. desiring to replace a broken watch-key i found a repair shop and endeavored to make my inquiries in russian. "_monsieur parle le francais, je crois_," was the response to my attempt, and greatly facilitated the transaction of business. before i left new york an acquaintance showed me a photograph of a siberian, who proved to be the watchmaker thus encountered. walking about the streets i saw many prisoners at work under guard, most of them wearing fetters. though i became accustomed during my siberian travels to the sight of chains on men, i could never hear their clanking without a shudder. the chains worn by a prisoner were attached at one end to bands enclosing his ankles and at the other to a belt around his waist. the sound of these chains as the men walked about was one of the most disagreeable i ever heard, and i was glad to observe that the russians did not appear to admire it. the prisoners at chetah were laboring on the streets, preparing logs for house-building, or erecting fences. most of the working parties were under guard, but the overseers did not appear to push them severely. some were taking it very leisurely and moved as if endeavoring to do as little as possible in their hours of work. i was told that they were employed on the eight hour system. their dress was coarse and rough, like that of the peasants, but had no marks to show that its wearer was a prisoner. [illustration: prisoners at chetah.] there were between three and four thousand prisoners in the province of the trans-baikal. about one-sixth of them were at chetah and in its vicinity. the prisoners were of two classes--political and criminal--and their punishment varied according to their offence. some were sentenced to labor in chains, and others to labor without chains. some could not go out without a guard, while others had more freedom. some were sentenced to work in prison and others were imprisoned without labor. some were exiled to siberia but enjoyed the liberty of a province, a particular district, or a designated town or village. some were allowed a certain amount of rations and others supported themselves. in fact there were all grades of prisoners, just as we have all grades in our penitentiaries. the polish revolution in sent many exiles to the country east of lake baikal. among the prisoners at the time of my journey there was a colonel zyklinski confined in prison at a village north of chetah. he had a prominent part in the polish troubles, and was captured at the surrender of the armies. he served in america under m'clellan during the peninsular campaign, and was in regular receipt of a pension from our government. the trans-baikal province is governed by major general ditmar, to whom i brought letters of introduction. when borasdine returned from his visit he brought invitation to transfer our quarters to the gubernatorial mansion, where we went and met the governor. i found him an agreeable gentleman, speaking french fluently, and regretting the absence of madame ditmar, in whose praise many persons had spoken. at dinner i met about twenty persons, of whom more than half spoke french and two or three english. a military band occupied the gallery over the dining-room. when general ditmar proposed "the united states of america," my ears were greeted with one of our national airs. it was well played, and when i said so they told me its history. on hearing of my arrival the governor summoned his chief musician and asked if he knew any american music. the reply was in the negative. the governor then sent the band-master to search his books. he soon returned, saying he had found the notes of "hail columbia." "is that the only american tune you have?" asked the general. "yes, sir." "have your band learn to play it by dinner time." the order was obeyed, and the american music accompanied the first regular toast. it was repeated at the club-rooms and on two or three other occasions during my stay in chetah, and though learned so hastily it was performed as well as by any ordinary band in our army. the principal rooms in general ditmar's house had a profusion of green plants in pots and tubs of different sizes. one apartment in particular seemed more like a greenhouse than a room where people dwelt. whether so much vegetation in the houses affects the health of the people i am unable to say, but i could not ascertain that it did. the custom of cultivating plants in the dwellings prevails through siberia, especially in the towns. i frequently found bushes like small trees growing in tubs, and i have in mind several houses where the plants formed a continuous line half around the walls of the principal rooms. the devotion to floriculture among the siberians has its chief impulse in the long winters, when there is no out-door vegetation visible beyond that of the coniferous trees. i can testify that a dwelling-which one enters on a cold day in midwinter appears doubly cheerful when the eye rests upon a luxuriance of verdure and flowers. winter seems defeated in his effort to establish universal sway. the winters in this region are long and cold, though very little snow falls. around chetah and in most of the trans-baikal province there is not snow enough for good sleighing, and the winter roads generally follow the frozen rivers. horses, cattle, and sheep subsist on the dead and dry grass from october to april, but they do not fare sumptuously every day. north and south of the head-waters of the ingodah and orion there are mountain ranges, having a general direction east and west. away to the north the polar sea and the lakes and rivers near it supply the rain and snow-clouds. as they sweep toward the south these clouds hourly become less and their last drops are wrung from them as they strike the slopes of the mountains and settle about their crests. the winter clouds from the indian ocean and caspian sea rarely pass the desert of gobi, and thus the country of the trans-baikal has a climate peculiar to itself. during my stay at chetah a party was organized to hunt gazelles. there were ten or fifteen officers and about twenty cossacks, as at blagoveshchensk. up to the day of the excursion the weather was delightful, but it suddenly changed to a cloudy sky, a high wind, and a freezing temperature. the scene of action was a range of hills five or six miles from town. we went there in carriages and wagons and on horseback, and as we shivered around a fire built by the cossacks near an open work cabin, we had little appearance of a pleasure party. [illustration: on the hills near chetah.] the first drive resulted in the death of two rabbits and the serious disability of a third. one halted within twenty steps of me and received the contents of my gun-barrel. i reloaded while he lay kicking, and just as i returned the ramrod to its place the beast rose and ran into the thick bushes. i hope he recovered and will live many years. he seemed gifted with a strong constitution, and i heard several stories of the tenacity of life displayed by his kindred. the rabbit or hare (_lepus variabilis_) abounds in the valley of the amoor and generally throughout siberia. he is much larger than the new england rabbit i hunted in my boyhood, and smaller than the long-eared rabbit of the rocky mountains and california. he is grey or brown in summer and white in winter, his color changing as cold weather begins. no snow had fallen at chetah, but the rabbits were white as chalk and easily seen if not easily killed. the peasants think the rabbit a species of cat and refuse to eat his flesh, but the upper classes have no such scruples. i found him excellent in a roast or stew and admirably adapted to destroying appetites. our day's hunt brought us one gazelle, six rabbits, one lunch, several drinks, and one smashed wagon. i saw at chetah a chess board in a box ten inches square with a miniature tree six inches high on its cover. the figure of a man in chains leaning upon a spade near a wheelbarrow, stood under the tree. the expression of the face, the details of the clothing, the links of the chains, the limbs of the tree, and even the roughness of its bark, were carefully represented. it was the work of a polish exile, who was then engaged upon something more elaborate. chessmen, tree, barrow, chains, and all, were made from black bread! the man took part of his daily allowance, moistened it with water, and kneaded it between his fingers till it was soft like putty. in this condition he fashioned it to the desired shape. when i called upon the watchmaker he told me of an american recently arrived from kiachta. two hours later while writing in my room i heard a rap at my door. on opening i found a man who asked in a bewildered air, "_amerikansky doma?_" "_dah_," i responded. "_parlez vous francais_?" was his next question. "_oui, monsieur, francais ou anglais_." "then you are the man i want to find. how do you do?" it was the american, who had come in search of me. he told me he was born in england and was once a naturalized citizen of the united states. he had lived in new york and chicago, crossed the plains in , and passed through all the excitements of the pacific coast, finishing and being finished at frazer's river. after that he went to china and accompanied a french merchant from shanghae across the mongolian steppes to kiachta. he arrived in chetah a month before my visit, and was just opening a stock of goods to trade with the natives. he was about to begin matrimonial life with a french lady whose acquaintance he made in kiachta. he had sent for a catholic priest to solemnize the marriage, as neither of the high contracting parties belonged to the russian church. the priest was then among the exiles at nerchinsk zavod, three hundred miles away, and his arrival at chetah was anxiously looked for by others than my new acquaintance. the poles being catholics have their own priests to attend them and minister to their spiritual wants. some of these priests are exiles and others voluntary emigrants, who went to siberia to do good. the exiled priests are generally permitted to go where they please, but i presume a sharp watch is kept over their actions. when there is a sufficient number of poles they have churches of their own and use exclusively the romish service. the germans settled in russia, as well as russians of german descent, usually adhere to the lutheran faith. the siberian peasants almost invariably speak of a lutheran church as a 'german' one, and in like manner apply the name 'polish' to catholic churches. the government permits all religious denominations in siberia to worship god in their own way, and makes no interference with spiritual leaders. minor sects corresponding to free lovers, shakers, and bodies of similar character, are not as liberally treated as the followers of any recognized christian faith. of course the influence of the government is for the greek church, but it allows no oppression of catholics and lutherans. so far as i could observe, the greek church in siberia and the established church in england occupy nearly similar positions toward dissenting denominations. three days after my arrival general ditmar started for irkutsk, preceded a few hours by my late traveling companion. in the afternoon following the general's departure i witnessed an artillery parade and drill, the men being cossacks of the trans-baikal province. the battery was a mounted one of six guns, and i was told the horses were brought the day before from their summer pastures. the affair was creditable to officers and men, the various evolutions being well and rapidly performed. the guns were whirled about the field, unlimbered, fired, dismounted, and passed through all the manipulations known to artillerists. at the close of the review the commanding officer thanked his men and praised their skill. he received the response, simultaneously spoken, "we are happy to please you," or words of like meaning. at every parade, whether regular or cossack, this little ceremony is observed. as the men marched from the field to their quarters they sang one of their native airs. these cossacks meet at stated intervals for drill and discipline, and remain the balance of the time at their homes. the infantry and cavalry are subject to the same regulation, and the musters are so arranged that some part of the cossack force is always under arms. after the review i dined with a party of eighteen or twenty officers at the invitation of captain erifayeff of the governor's staff. the dinner was given in the house where my host and his friend, captain pantoukin, lived, _en garcon_. the emperor of russia and the president of the united states were duly remembered, and the toasts in their honor were greeted with appropriate music. in conversation after dinner, i found all the officers anxious to be informed concerning the united states. the organization of our army, the relations of our people after the war, our mode of life, manners, and customs, were subjects of repeated inquiry. on the morning of the th october, captain molostoff, who was to be my companion, announced his readiness to depart. i made my farewell calls, and we packed our baggage into my tarantass, with the exception of the terrible trunk that adhered to me like a shadow. as we had no cossack and traveled without a servant, there was room for the unwieldy article on the seat beside the driver. i earnestly advise every tourist in siberia not to travel with a trunk. the siberian ladies manage to transport all the articles for an elaborate toilet without employing a single 'dog house' or 'saratoga.' if they can do without trunks, of what should not man be capable? our leave-taking consumed much time and champagne, and it was nearly sunset before we left chetah. it is the general custom in siberia to commence journeys in the afternoon or evening, the latter extending anywhere up to daybreak. as one expects to travel night and day until reaching his destination, his hour of starting is of no consequence. just before leaving he is occupied in making farewell calls, and is generally 'seen off' by his friends. in the evening he has no warm bed to leave, no hasty toilet to make, and no disturbed household around him. with a vehicle properly arranged he can settle among his furs and pillows and is pretty likely to fall asleep before riding many miles. i was never reconciled to commencing a journey early in the morning, with broken sleep, clothing half arranged, and a 'picked-up' breakfast without time to swallow it leisurely. on leaving chetah we crossed a frozen stream tributary to the ingodah, and proceeded rapidly over an excellent road. we met several carts, one-horse affairs on two wheels, laden with hay for the chetah market. one man generally controlled three or four carts, the horses proceeding in single file. the country was more open than on the other side of chetah, and the road had suffered little in the rains and succeeding cold. for some distance we rode near two lines of telegraph; one was a temporary affair erected during the insurrection of , while the other was the permanent line designed to connect america with europe by way of bering's straits. the poles used for this telegraph are large and firmly set, and give the line an appearance of durability. the captain was fond of dogs and had an english pointer in his baggage. during the day the animal ran near the carriage, and at night slept at his master's feet. he was well inclined toward me after we were introduced, and before the journey ended he became my personal friend. he had an objectionable habit of entering the tarantass just before me and standing in the way until i was seated. sometimes when left alone in the carriage he would not permit the yemshicks to attach the horses. on two or three occasions of this kind the captain was obliged to suspend his tea-drinking and go to pacify his dog. once as a yemshick was mounting the box of the tarantass, 'boika' jumped at his face and very nearly secured an attachment to a large and ruddy nose. spite of his eccentricities, he was a good dog and secured the admiration of those he did not attempt to bite. we passed the yablonoi mountains by a road far from difficult. had i not been informed of the fact i could have hardly suspected we were in a mountain range. the yablonoi chain forms the dividing ridge between the head streams of the amoor and the rivers that flow to the arctic ocean. on the south we left a little brook winding to reach the ingodah, and two hours later crossed the ouda, which joins the selenga at verkne udinsk. the two streams flow in opposite directions. one threads its way to the eastward, where it assists in forming the amoor; the other through the selenga, lake baikal, and the yenesei, is finally swallowed up among the icebergs and perpetual snows of the far north. "one to long darkness and the frozen tide; one to the peaceful sea." chapter xxv. beyond the mountains the cold increased, the country was slightly covered with snow, and the lakes were frozen over. in the mountain region there is a forest of pines and birches, but farther along much of the country is flat and destitute of timber. where the road was good our tarantass rolled along very well, and the cold, though considerable, was not uncomfortable. i found the chief inconvenience was, that the moisture in my breath congealed on my beard and the fur clothing near it. two or three times beard and fur were frozen together, and it was not always easy to separate them. from the yablonoi mountains to verkne udinsk there are very few houses between the villages that form the posting stations. the principal inhabitants are bouriats, a people of mongol descent who were conquered by genghis khan in the thirteenth century and made a respectable fight against the russians in the seventeenth. since their subjugation they have led a peaceful life and appear to have forgotten all warlike propensities. their features are essentially mongolian, and their manners and customs no less so. some of them live in houses after the russian manner, but the yourt is the favorite habitation. the bouriats cling to the manners of their race, and even when settled in villages are unwilling to live in houses. at the first of their villages after we passed the mountains i took opportunity to visit a yourt. it was a tent with a light frame of trellis work covered with thick felt, and i estimated its diameter at fifteen or eighteen feet. in the center the frame work has no covering, in order to give the smoke free passage. a fire, sometimes of wood and sometimes of dried cow-dung, burns in the middle of the yourt during the day and is covered up at night. i think the tent was not more than five and a half feet high. there was no place inside where i could stand erect. the door is of several thicknesses of stitched and quilted felt, and hangs like a curtain over the entrance. [illustration: bouriat yourts.] the eyes of the bouriats were nearly always red, a circumstance explainable by the smoke that fills their habitations and in which they appear to enjoy themselves. in sleeping they spread mats and skins on the ground and pack very closely. two or three times at the stations in the middle of the night i approached their dwellings and listened to the nasal chorus within. tho people are early risers, if i may judge by the hours when i used to find them out of floors. as to furniture, they have mats and skins to sit upon by day and convert into beds at night. there are few or no tables, and little crockery or other household comforts. they have pots for boiling meat and heating water, and a few jugs, bottles, and basins for holding milk and other liquids. a wooden box contains the valuable clothing of the family, and there are two or three bags for miscellaneous use. in the first yourt i entered i found an altar that was doubtless hollow and utilized as a place of storage. a few small cups containing grain, oil, and other offerings were placed on this altar, and i was careful not to disturb them. their religion is bhudistic, and they have their lamas, who possess a certain amount of sanctity from the grand lama of thibet. the lamas are numerous and their sacred character does not relieve or deprive them of terrestrial labor and trouble. many of the lamas engage in the same pursuits as their followers, and are only relieved from toil to exercise the duties of their positions. they perform the functions of priest, physician, detective officer, and judge, and are supposed to have control over souls and bodies, to direct the one and heal the other. man, woman, child, or animal falling sick the lama is summoned. thanks to the fears and superstitions of native thieves he can generally find and restore stolen articles, and has the power to inflict punishment. the russian priests have made very few converts among the bouriats, though laboring zealously ever since the conquest of siberia. in a monastery was founded at troitsk for the especial purpose of converting the natives. the number who have been baptized is very small, and most of them are still pagans at heart. two english missionaries lived a long time at selenginsk, but though earnest and hard working i am told they never obtained a single proselyte. it is a curious fact in the history of the bouriats that shamanism was almost universal among them two hundred years ago; practically it differed little from that of the natives on the amoor. toward the end of the seventeenth century a mission went from siberia to thibet, and its members returned as lamas and bringing the paraphernalia of the new religion which they at once declared to their people. the bhudistic faith was thus founded and spread over the country until shamanism was gradually superseded. traces of the old superstition are still visible in certain parts of the lama worship. most of their religious property, such as robes, idols, cups, bells, and other necessaries for the bhudhist service come from thibet. a russian gentleman gave me a bell decorated with holy inscriptions and possessing a remarkably fine tone. its handle was the bust and crown of a bhudhist idol, and the bell was designed for use in religious services; it was to be touched only by a disciple of the true faith, and its possession prophesied good fortune. since my return to america it occupied a temporary place on the dining-table of a new england clergyman. [illustration: a mongol bell.] the bouriats manufacture very few articles for their own use; they sell their sheep to the russians, and buy whatever they desire. their dress is partly mongol and partly russian, the inconvenient portions of the chinese costume being generally rejected. their caps were mostly conical in shape, made of quilted cloth and ornamented with a silken tassel attached to the apex. their trowsers had a chinese appearance, but their coats were generally of sheepskin, after the russian model. their waist-belts were decorated with bits of steel or brass. they shave the head and wear the hair in a queue like the chinese, but are not careful to keep it closely trimmed. a few are half mongol and half russian, caused no doubt by their owners being born and reared under muscovite protection. i saw many pleasing and intelligent countenances, but few that were pretty according to western notions. there is a famous bouriat beauty of whose charms i heard much and was anxious to gaze upon. unfortunately it was two o'clock in the morning when we reached the station where she lived. the unfashionable hour and a big dog combined to prevent my visiting her abode. [illustration: a mongol belle.] from the mountains to verkne udinsk most of our drivers were bouriats. they were quite as skillful and daring as the russian yemshicks, and took us at excellent speed where the road was good. the station-masters were russian, but frequently all their employees were of mongol blood. some part of the carriage gave way on the road, and it was necessary to repair it at a station. a bouriat man-of-all-work undertook the job and performed it very well. while waiting for the repairs i saw some good specimens of iron work from the hands of native blacksmiths. the bouriats engage in very little agriculture. properly they are herdsmen, and keep large droves of cattle, horses, and sheep, the latter being most numerous. i saw many of their flocks near the road we traveled or feeding on distant parts of the plain. the country was open and slightly rolling, timber being scarce and the soil more or less stony. each flock of sheep was tended by one or more herdsmen armed with poles like rake-handles, and attached to each pole was a short rope with a noose at the end. this implement is used in catching sheep, and the bouriats are very skillful in handling it. i saw one select a sheep which became separated from the flock before he secured it. the animal while pursued attempted to double on his track. as he turned the man swung his pole and caught the head of the sheep in his noose. it reminded me of lasso throwing in mexico and california. [illustration: catching sheep.] in looking at these flocks i remembered a conundrum containing the inquiry, "why do white sheep eat more hay than black ones?" the answer was, "because there are more of them." in siberia the question and its reply would be incorrect, as the white sheep are in the minority. in this the sheep of siberia differ materially from those i ever saw in any other country. the flocks presented a great variety of colors, or rather, many combinations of white and black. their appearance to an american eye was a very peculiar and novel one. at one station a beggar crouched on the ground near the door asked alms as we passed him. i threw him a small coin, which he acknowledged by thrice bowing his head and touching the earth. i trust this mode of acknowledging courtesy will never be introduced in my own country. we frequently met or passed small trains of two-wheeled carts, some laden with merchandise and others carrying bouriat or russian families. most of these carts were drawn by bullocks harnessed like horses between shafts. occasionally i saw bullocks saddled and ridden as we ride horses, though not quite as rapidly. a few carts had roofs of birch bark to shield their occupants from the rain; from appearances i judged these carts belonged to emigrants on their way to the amoor. at the crossing of a small river we found the water full of floating ice that drifted in large cakes. there was much fixed ice at both edges and we waited an hour to have it cut away. when the smotretal announced that all was ready we proceeded to the river and found it anything but inviting. the bouriat yemshick pronounced it safe, and as he was a responsible party we deferred to his judgment. while we waited a girl rode a horse through the stream without hesitation. [illustration: a cold bath.] we had four horses harnessed abreast and guided by the yemshick. two others were temporarily attached ahead under control of a bouriat. as we drove into the river the horses shrank from the cold water and ice that came against their sides. one slipped and fell, but was soon up again. the current drifted us with it and i thought for a moment we were badly caught. the drivers whipped and shouted so effectively that we reached the other side without accident. on the second evening we had a drunken yemshick who lost the road several times and once drove us into a clump of bushes. as a partial excuse the night was so dark that one could not see ten feet ahead. about two o'clock in the morning we reached the station nearest to verkne udinsk. here was a dilemma. captain molostoff had business at verkne udinsk which he could not transact before nine or ten in the morning. there was no decent hotel, and if we pushed forward we should arrive long before the russian hour for rising. we debated the question over a steaming samovar and decided to remain at the station till morning. by starting after daylight we might hope to find the town awake. the travelers' room at the station was clean and well furnished, but heated to a high temperature. the captain made his bed on a sofa, but i preferred the tarantass where the air was cool and pure. i arranged my furs, fastened the boot and hood of the carriage, and slept comfortably in a keen wind. at daylight the yemshicks attached horses and called the captain from the house. he complained that he slept little owing to the heat. boika was in bad humor and opened the day by tearing the coat of one man and being kicked by another. the ground was rougher and better wooded as we came near the junction of the ouda and selenga, and i could see evidences of a denser population. on reaching the town we drove to the house of mr. pantoukin, a brother of an officer i met at chetah. the gentleman was not at home and we were received by his friend captain sideroff. after talking a moment in russian with captain molostoff, our new acquaintance addressed me in excellent english and inquired after several persons at san francisco. he had been there four times with the russian fleet, and appeared to know the city very well. verkne udinsk is at the junction of the ouda and selenga rivers, three hundred versts from irkutsk and four hundred and fifty from chetah. it presents a pretty appearance when approached from the east, when its largest and best buildings first catch the eye. it has a church nearly two hundred years old, built with immensely thick walls to resist occasional earthquakes. a large crack was visible in the wall of a newer church, and repairs were in progress. in its earlier days the town had an important commerce, which has been taken away by irkutsk and kiachta. it has a few wealthy merchants, who have built fine houses on the principal street. i walked through the _gastinni-dvor_ but found nothing i desired to purchase. there were many little articles of household use but none of great value. coats of deerskin were abundant, and the market seemed freshly supplied with them. my costume was an object of curiosity to the hucksters and their customers, especially in the item of boots. the russian boots are round-toed and narrow. i wore a pair in the american fashion of the previous year and quite different from the muscovite style. there were frequent touches of elbows and deflections of eyes attracting attention to my feet. a large building overlooking the town was designated as the jail, and said to be rapidly filling for winter. "there are many vagabonds in this part of the country," said my informant. "in summer they live by begging and stealing. at the approach of winter they come to the prisons to be housed and fed during the cold season. they are generally compelled to work, and this fact causes them to leave as early as possible in the spring. had your journey been in midsummer you would have seen many of these fellows along the road." while speaking of this subject my friend told me there was then in prison at verkne udinsk a man charged with robbery. when taken he made desperate resistance, and for a long time afterward was sullen and obstinate. recently he confessed some of his crimes. he was a robber by profession and acknowledged to seventeen murders during the last three years! once he killed four persons in a single family, leaving only a child too young to testify against him. the people he attacked were generally merchants with money in their possession. robberies are not frequent in siberia, though a traveler hears many stories designed to alarm the timorous. i was told of a party of three persons attacked in a lonely place at night. they were carrying gold from the mines to the smelting works, and though well armed were so set upon that the three were killed without injury to the robbers. i was not solicitous about my safety as officers were seldom molested, and as i traveled with a member of the governor's staff i was pretty well guarded. officers rarely carry more than enough money for their traveling expenses, and they are better skilled than merchants in handling fire arms and defending themselves. besides, their molestation would be more certainly detected and punished than that of a merchant or chance traveler. my tarantass had not been materially injured in the journey, but several screws were loose and there was an air of general debility about it. like the deacon's one-horse shay in its eightieth year, the vehicle was not broken but had traces of age about it. as there was considerable rough road before me i thought it advisable to put everything in order, and therefore committed the carriage to a blacksmith. he labored all day and most of the night putting in bolts, nuts, screws, and bits of iron in different localities, and astonished me by demanding less than half i expected to pay, and still more by his guilty manner, as if ashamed at charging double. the iron used in repairing my carriage came from petrovsky zavod, about a hundred miles southeast of verkne udinsk. the iron works were established during the reign of peter the great, and until quite recently were mostly worked by convicts. there is plenty of mineral coal in the vicinity, but wood is so cheap and abundant that charcoal is principally used in smelting. i saw a specimen of the petrovsky ore, which appeared very good. the machine shops of these works are quite extensive and well supplied. the engines for the early steamers on the amoor were built there by russian workmen. there are several private mining enterprises in the region around yerkne udinsk. most of them have gold as their object, and i heard of two or three lead mines. during the night of my stay at this town captain sideroff insisted so earnestly upon giving up his bed that politeness compelled me to accept it. my blankets and furs on the floor would have been better suited to my traveling life especially as the captain's bed was shorter than his guest. i think travelers will agree with me in denouncing the use of beds and warm rooms while a journey is in progress. they weaken the system and unfit it for the roughness of the road. while halting at night the floor or a hard sofa is preferable to a soft bed. the journey ended, the reign of luxuries can begin. [illustration: tail piece] chapter xxvi. when we left verkne udinsk we crossed the selenga before passing the municipal limits. our ferry-boat was like the one at stratensk, and had barely room on its platform for our tarantass. a priest and an officer who were passengers on the steamer from blagoveshchensk arrived while we were getting on board the ferry-boat. they had been greatly delayed on the way from stratensk, and waited two days to cross the nercha. the selenga was full of ice, some cakes being larger than the platform of our boat. the temperature of the air was far below freezing, and it was expected the river would close in a day or two. it might shut while we were crossing and confine us on the wretched flat-boat ten or twelve hours, until it would be safe to walk ashore. however, it was not my craft, and as there were six or eight russians all in the same boat with me, i did not borrow trouble. the ice-cakes ground unpleasantly against each other and had things pretty much their own way. one of them grated rather roughly upon our sides. i do not know there was any danger, but i certainly thought i had seen places of greater safety than that. when we were in the worst part of the stream two of the ferrymen rested their poles and began crossing themselves. i could have excused them had they postponed this service until we landed on the opposite bank or were stuck fast in the ice. the russian peasants are more dependant on the powers above than were even the old puritans. the former abandon efforts in critical moments and take to making the sign of the cross. the puritans trusted in god, but were careful to keep their powder dry. [illustration: our ferry boat.] a wide sand bank where we landed was covered with smooth ice, and i picked my way over it much like a cat exercising on a mirror. the tarantass was pushed ashore, and as soon as the horses were attached a rapid run took them up the bank to the station. a temporary track led across a meadow that furnished a great deal of jolting to the mile. eight versts from verkne udinsk the road divides, one branch going to kiachta and the other to lake baikal and irkutsk. a pleasing feature of the route was the well-built telegraph line, in working order to st. petersburg. it seemed to shorten the distance between me and home when i knew that the electric current had a continuous way to america. puck would put a girdle round the earth in forty minutes. from china to california, more than half the circuit of the globe, we can flash a signal in a second of time, and gain by the hands of the clock more than fourteen hours. from the point of divergence the road to kiachta ascends the valley of the selenga, while that to irkutsk descends the left bank of the stream. i found the kiachta route rougher than any part of the way from chetah to verkne udinsk, and as the yemshick took us at a rattling pace we were pretty thoroughly shaken up. at the second station we had a dinner of _stchee_, or cabbage soup, with bread and the caviar of the selenga. this caviar is of a golden color and made from the roe of a small fish that ascends from lake baikal. it is not as well liked as the caviar of the volga and amoor, the egg being less rich than that of the sturgeon, though about the same size. if i may judge from what i saw, there is less care taken in its preparation than in that of the volga. the road ascended the selenga, but the valley was so wide and we kept so near its edge that the river was not often visible. the valley is well peopled and yields finely to the agriculturalist. some of the farms appeared quite prosperous and their owners well-to-do in the world. the general appearance was not unlike that of some parts of the wabash country, or perhaps better still, the region around marysville, kansas. russian agriculture does not exhibit the care and economy of our states where land is expensive. there is such abundance of soil in siberia that every farmer can have all he desires to cultivate. many farms along the selenga had a 'straggling' appearance, as if too large for their owners. _per contra_, i saw many neat and well managed homesteads, with clean and comfortable dwellings. with better implements of husbandry and a more thorough working of the soil, the peasants along the selenga would find agriculture a sure road to wealth. under the present system of cultivation the valley is pleasing to the eye of a traveler who views it with reference to its practical value. there were flocks of sheep, droves of cattle and horses, and stacks of hay and grain; everybody was apparently well fed and the houses were attractive. we had good horses, good drivers, and generally good roads for the first hundred versts. sometimes we left the selenga, but kept generally parallel to its course. the mountains beyond the valley were lofty and clearly defined. frequently they presented striking and beautiful scenery, and had i been a skillful artist they would have tempted me to sketch them. the night came upon us cold and with a strong wind blowing from the north. we wrapped ourselves closely and were quite comfortable, the dog actually lolling beneath our sheepskin coverlid. approaching selenginsk we found a few bits of bad road and met long caravans laden with tea for irkutsk. these caravans were made up of little two-wheeled carts, each drawn by a single horse. from six to ten chests of tea, according to the condition of the roads, are piled on each cart and firmly bound with cords. there is one driver to every four or five carts, and this driver has a dormitory on one of his loads. this is a rude frame two and a half by six feet, with sides about seven inches high. with a sheepskin coat and coverlid a man contrives to sleep in this box while his team moves slowly along the road or is feeding at a halting place. all the freight between kiachta and lake baikal is carried on carts in summer and on one-horse sleds in winter. from kiachta westward tea is almost the only article of transport, the quantity sometimes amounting to a million chests per annum. the tea chests are covered with raw hide, which protects them, from rain and snow and from the many thumps of their journey. the teams belong to peasants, who carry freight for a stipulated sum per pood. the charges are lower in winter than in summer, as the sledge is of easier draft than the cart. the caravans travel sixteen hours of every twenty-four, and rarely proceed faster than a walk. the drivers are frequently asleep and allow the horses to take their own pace. the caravans are expected to give up the whole road on the approach of a post carriage, and when the drivers are awake they generally obey the regulation. very often it happened that the foremost horses turned aside of their own accord as we approached. they heard the bells that denoted our character, and were aware of our yemshick's right to strike them if they neglected their duty. the sleeping drivers and delinquent horses frequently received touches of the lash. there was little trouble by day, but at night the caravan horses were less mindful of our comfort. especially if the road was bad and narrow the post vehicles, contrary to regulation, were obliged to give way. [illustration: equal rights.] it was three or four hours before daylight when we reached selenginsk, and the yemshick removed his horses preparatory to returning to his station. i believe selenginsk is older than verkne udinsk, and very much the senior of irkutsk. the ancient town is on the site of the original settlement, but frequent inundations caused its abandonment for the other bank of the river, five versts away. new selenginsk, which has a great deal of antiquity in its appearance, is a small town with a few good houses, a well built church, and commodious barracks. during the troubles between china and russia concerning the early occupation of the amoor and encroachments on the celestial frontier, selenginsk was an important spot. it was often threatened by the chinese, and sustained a siege in . a convention was held there in , and some provisions of the treaty then concluded are still in force. mr. bestoujeff, one of the exiles of , was living at selenginsk at the time of my visit. there were two brothers of this name concerned in the insurrection, and at the expiration of their sentences to labor they were settled at this place. subsequently they were joined by three sisters, who sacrificed all their prospects in life to meet their brothers in siberia. the family was permitted to return to europe when the present emperor ascended the throne, but having been so long absent the permission was never accepted. the river was full of floating ice and could not be crossed in the night, and we ordered horses so that we might reach the bank at dawn. both banks of the river were crowded with carts, some laden and others empty. a government officer has preference over dead loads of merchandise, and so we were taken in charge without delay. to prevent accidents the horses were detached, and the carriage pushed on the ferry-boat by men. the tamed unfiery steeds followed us with some reluctance, and shivered in the breeze during the voyage. we remained in the tarantass through the whole transaction. the ice ran in the river as at verkne udinsk, but the cakes were not as large. our chief ferryman was a russian, and had a crew of six bouriats who spoke mongol among themselves and russian with their commander. from selenginsk to kiachta, a distance of ninety versts, the road is hilly and sandy. we toiled slowly up the ascents, and our downward progress was but little better. we met several caravans where the road was narrow and had but one beaten track. in such cases we generally found it better to turn aside ourselves than to insist upon our rights and compel the caravan to leave the road. the hills were sandy and desolate, and i could not see any special charm in the landscape. i employed much of the day in sleeping, which may possibly account for the lack of minute description of the road. the only point where the cold touched me was at the tip of my nose, where i left my _dehar_ open to obtain air. the russian dehar is generally made of antelope or deer skin, and forms an admirable defence against cold. mine reached to my heels, and touched the floor when i stood erect. when the collar was turned up and brought together in front my head was utterly invisible. the sleeves were four or five inches longer than my arms, and the width of the garment was enough for a man and a boy. i at first suspected i had bought by mistake a coat intended for a russian giant then exhibiting in moscow. this article of apparel is comfortable only when one is seated or extended in his equipage. walking is very difficult in a dehar, and its wearer feels about as free to move as if enclosed in a pork-barrel. it was a long time before i could turn my collar up or down without assistance, and frequently after several efforts to seize an outside object i found myself grasping the ends of my sleeves. the warmth of the garment atones for its cumbersome character, and its gigantic size is fully intentional. the length protects the feet and legs, the high collar warms the head, and the great width of the dehar allows it to be well wrapped about the body. the long sleeves cover the hands and preserve fingers from frost bites. taken as a whole it is a mental discomfort but a physical good, and may be considered a necessary nuisance of winter travel in siberia. at ust kiachta, the last station before reaching our journey's end, we were waited upon by a young and tidy woman in a well-kept room. it was about nine in the evening when we reached troitskosavsk, and entered town among the large buildings formerly occupied as a frontier custom house. as there was no hotel we drove to the house of the police master, the highest official of the place. i had letters to this gentleman, but did not find him at home. his brother took us in charge and sent a soldier to direct us to a house where we could obtain lodgings. it is the custom in siberian towns to hold a certain number of lodging places always ready for travelers. these are controlled by the police master, to whom strangers apply for quarters. whether he will or no, a man who has registered lodging rooms with the police must open them to any guest assigned him, no matter what the hour. it was ten o'clock when we reached our destined abode. we made a great deal of noise that roused a servant to admit us to the yard. the head of the household came to the door in his shirt and rubbed his eyes as if only half awake. his legs trembled with the cold while he waited for our explanations, and it was not till we were admitted that he thought of his immodest exposure. i would not wish it inferred that no one can find lodgings until provided by the police. on the contrary, it is rarely necessary to obtain them through this channel. travelers are not numerous, and the few strangers visiting siberia are most cordially welcomed. officers are greeted and find homes with their fellow officers, while merchants enjoy the hospitalities of men of their class. we ordered the samovar, and being within parrott-gun range of china we had excellent tea. i passed the night on a sofa so narrow that i found it difficult to turn over, and fairly rolled to the floor while endeavoring to bestow myself properly. while finishing my morning toilet i received a visit from major boroslofski, master of police, who came to acknowledge general ditmar's letter of introduction. he tendered the hospitalities of the place, and desired me to command his services while i remained. we had two rooms with a bedstead and sofa, besides lots of chairs, mirrors, tables, and flower pots. then we had an apartment nearly thirty feet square, that contained more chairs, tables, and flower pots. in one corner there was a huge barrel-organ that enabled me to develop my musical abilities. i spent half an hour the morning after our arrival in turning out the national airs of russia. molostoff amused himself by circulating his cap before an invisible audience and collecting imperceptible coin. while dancing to one of my liveliest airs he upset a flower pot, and the crash that followed brought our concert to a close. two sides of the large room were entirely bordered with horticultural productions, some of them six or eight feet high. [illustration: amateur concert in siberia.] troitskosavsk and kiachta have a sort of husband and wife singleness and duality. they are about two miles apart, the former having five or six thousand inhabitants and the latter about twelve hundred. in government, business, and interest the two places are one, the master of police having jurisdiction over both, and the merchants living indifferently in one or the other. many persons familiar with the name of kiachta never heard of the other town. it may surprise london merchants who send shanghai telegrams "via kiachta" to learn that the wires terminate at troitskosavsk, and do not reach kiachta at all. the treaty which established trade between russia and china at kiachta provided that no one should reside there except merchants engaged in traffic. no officer could live there, nor could any person whatever beyond merchants and their employees and families remain over night. no stone buildings except a church could be erected, and visits of strangers were to be discouraged. kiachta was thus restricted to the business of a trading post, and the town of troitskosavsk, two miles away, was founded for the residence of the officials, outside traders, and laborers. most of the restrictions above mentioned exist no longer, but the towns have not quite lost their old relations. there is an excellent road from one to the other, and the carriages, carts, and pedestrians constantly thronging it present a lively scene. the police master tendered his equipage and offered to escort me in making calls upon those i wished to know. etiquette is no less rigid in siberian towns and cities than in moscow and st. petersburg. one must make ceremonial visits as soon as possible after his arrival, officials being first called upon in the order of rank and civilians afterward. officers making visits don their uniforms, with epaulettes and side arms, and with all their decorations blazing on their breasts. civilians go in evening dress arranged with fastidious care. the hours for calling are between eleven a.m. and three p.m. a responsive call may be expected within two days, and must be made with the utmost precision of costume. arrayed for the occasion i made eight or ten visits in kiachta and troitskosavsk. the air was cold and the frost nipped rather severely through my thin boots as we drove back from kiachta. after an early dinner we went to maimaichin to visit the _sargootchay_, or chinese governor. we passed under a gateway surmounted with the double-headed eagle, and were saluted by the cossack guard as we left the borders of the russian empire. outside the gateway we traversed the neutral ground, two hundred yards wide, driving toward a screen or short wall of brick work, on which a red globe was represented. we crossed a narrow ditch and, passing behind the screen, entered a gateway into maimaichin, the most northern city of china. chapter xxvii. from to nearly all the trade between russia and china was transacted at kiachta and maimaichin. the russians built the one and the chinese the other, exclusively for commercial purposes. to this day no chinese women are allowed at maimaichin. the merchants consider themselves only sojourners, though the majority spend the best part of their lives there. contact with russians has evidently improved the celestials, as this little frontier city is the best arranged and cleanest in all china. after passing the gateway, the street we entered was narrow compared to our own, and had but a single carriage track. on the sidewalks were many chinese, who stopped to look at us, or rather at me. we drove about two hundred yards and turned into an enclosure, where we alighted. near at hand were two masts like flag-staffs, gaily ornamented at the top but bearing no banners. our halting place was near the temple of justice, where instruments of punishment were piled up. there were rattans and bamboos for flogging purposes by the side of yokes, collars, and fetters, carefully designed for subduing the refractory. there was a double set of stocks like those now obsolete in america, and their appearance indicated frequent use. to be cornered in these would be as unpleasant as in harlem or erie. from this temple we passed through a covered colonnade and entered an ante-room, where several officers and servants were in attendance. here we left our overcoats and were shown to another apartment where we met the sargootchay. his excellency shook hands with me after the european manner. his son, a youth of sixteen, was then presented, and made the acquaintance of major boroslofski. the sargootchay had a pleasing and interesting face of the true chinese type, with no beard beyond a slight mustache, and a complexion rather paler than most of his countrymen. he wore the dress of a mandarin, with the universal long robe and a silk jacket with wide sleeves. [illustration: a chinese mandarin.] after the ceremony of introduction was ended the sargootchay signed for us to be seated. he took his own place on a divan, and gave the 'illustrious stranger' the post of honor near him. tea and cigars were brought, and we had a few moments of smoky silence. the room was rather bare of furniture, and the decorations on the walls were russian and chinese in about equal proportion. i noticed a russian stove in one corner and a samovar in the adjoining room. the sargootchay had been newly appointed, and arrived only a week before. i presume his housekeeping was not well under way. the interview was as interesting as one could expect where neither party had anything important to say to the other. we attempted conversation which expressed our delight at meeting and the good-will of our respective countries toward each other. the talk was rather slow, as it went through many translations in passing between me and my host. tea and smoke were of immense service in filling up the chinks. when i wished to say anything to the sargootchay i spoke in french to major boroslofski, who sat near me. the major then addressed his bouriat interpreter in russian. this interpreter turned to a mongol-chinese official at his side and spoke to him in mongol. the latter translated into chinese for the understanding of his chief. the replies of the sargootchay returned by the same route. i have a suspicion that very little of what we really said ever reached its destination. his reply to one remark of mine had no reference to what i said, and the whole conversation was a curious medley of compliments. our words were doubtless polarized more than once in transmission. we had tea and sweetmeats, the latter in great variety. the manner of preparing tea did not please me as well as the russian one. the chinese boil their tea and give it a bitter flavor that the russians are careful to avoid. they drink it quite strong and hot, using no milk or sugar. out of deference to foreign tastes they brought sugar for us to use at our liking. after the tea and sweetmeats the sargootchay ordered champagne, in which we drank each other's health. at the close of the interview i received invitation to dine with his excellency two days later and witness a theatrical performance. our adieus were made in the european manner, and after leaving the sargootchay we visited a temple in the northern part of the town. we passed through a large yard and wound among so many courts and colonnades that i should have been sorely puzzled to find my way out alone. the public buildings of maimaichin are not far from each other, but the routes between them are difficult for one whose ideas of streets were formed in american cities. on passing the theatre we were shown two groups larger than life in rooms on opposite sides of a covered colonnade. they were cut in sand-stone, one representing a rearing horse which two grooms were struggling to hold. the other was the same horse walking quietly under control of one man. the figures evidently came from greek history, and i had little doubt that they were intended to tell of alexander and bucephalus. i learned that the words 'philip of macedon' were the literal translation of the chinese title of the groups. how or when the celestials heard the story of alexander, and why they should represent it in stone, i cannot imagine. no one could tell the age and origin of these works of art. on the walls of buildings near the temple there were paintings from chinese artists, some of them showing a creditable knowledge of perspective. 'john' can paint very well when he chooses, and any one conversant with his skill will testify that he understands perspective. why he does not make more use of it is a mystery that demands explanation. when we entered the temple it was sunset, and the gathering shadows rendered objects indistinct. from the character of the windows and the colonnades outside i suppose a 'dim religious light' prevails there at all times. the temple contains several idols or representations of chinese deities in figures larger than life, dressed with great skill and literally gotten up regardless of expense. their garments were of the finest silk, and profusely ornamented with gold, silver, and precious stones. there were the gods of justice, peace, war, agriculture, mechanics, love, and prosperity. the god of love had a most hideous countenance, quite in contrast to that of the gentle cupid with whom the majority of my readers are doubtless familiar. the god of war brandished a huge sword, and reminded me of the leading tragedian of the bowery theatre ten years ago. the temple was crowded with idols, vases, censers, pillars, and other objects, and it was not easy for our party to move about. in the middle of the apartment there were tables supporting offerings of cooked fowls and other edibles. these articles are eaten by the attendants at the temple, but whether the worshippers, know this fact or believe their gods descend to satisfy their appetites, i cannot say. to judge from what i saw the chinese are accustomed to decorate their houses of worship at great cost. there were rich curtains and a thousand and one articles of more or less value filling the greater part of the temple. lanterns and chandeliers displayed the skill and patience of the chinese in manipulating metals. there were imitations of butterflies and other insects, and of delicate leaves and flowers in metal, painted or burnished in the color of the objects represented. the aggregate time consumed in the manufacture of these decorations must be thousands of years. in a suspended vase i saw one boquet which was a clever imitation of nature, with the single exception of odor. the chinese make artificial roses containing little cups which they fill with rose-water. on our return we found the gate closed, and were obliged to wait until the ponderous key was brought to open it. the officer controlling the gate made no haste, and we were delayed in a crowd of chinese men and dogs for nearly fifteen minutes. it was a peculiar sensation to be shut in a chinese town and fairly locked in. it is the custom to close the gates of kiachta and maimaichin and shut off all communication between sunset and sunrise. the rule is less rigidly enforced than formerly. [illustration: interior of chinese temple] after this introduction i visited maimaichin almost every day until leaving for irkutsk. maimaichin means 'place of trade,' and the name was given by the officer who selected the site. the town is occupied by merchants, laborers, and government employees, all dwelling without families. the sargootchay is changed every three years, and it was hinted that his short term of office sufficed to give him a fortune. the houses were only one story high and plastered with black mud or cement. the streets cross at right angles, but are not very long, as the town does not measure more than half a mile in any direction. at the intersection of the principal streets there are towers two or three stories high, overlooking the town, and probably intended for use of the police. few houses are entered directly from the street, most of them having court yards with gateways just wide enough for a single cart or carriage. the dwelling rooms and magazines open upon the court yards, which are provided with folding gates heavily barred at night. apart from the public buildings the houses were pretty much alike. every court yard was liberally garnished with dogs of the short-nosed and wide-faced breed peculiar to china. they were generally chained and invariably made an unpleasant tumult. the dwelling rooms, kitchens, and magazines had their windows and doors upon the yards, the former being long and low with small panes of glass, talc, or oiled paper. in the magazines there were generally two apartments, one containing most of the goods, while the other was more private and only entered by strangers upon invitation. at the end of each room there was a divan, where the inmates slept at night or sat by day. near the edge of the divan, was a small furnace, where a charcoal fire burned constantly. the rooms were warmed by furnaces with pipes passing beneath the divans or by russian stoves. in every place i visited there were many employees, and i did not understand how all could be kept busy. everything was neat and well arranged, and the chinese appeared very particular on the subject of dust. i attempted to buy a few souvenirs of my visit, but very little was to be purchased. few strangers come to maimaichin, and the merchants have no inducement to keep articles rarely called for. i found they were determined to make me pay liberally. "how much?" i asked on picking up an article in one of their shops. "_chetira ruble_" (four roubles) was the reply. my russian companion whispered me not to buy, and after a few moments chaffering we departed. in a neighboring shop i purchased something precisely similar for one rouble, and went away rejoicing. on exhibiting my prize at kiachta i learned that i paid twice its real value. the chinese merchants are frequently called scoundrels from their habit of overreaching when opportunity occurs. in some respects they are worse and in others better than the same class of men in western nations. the practice of asking much more than they expect to receive prevails throughout their empire, and official peculation confined in certain limits is considered entirely consistent with honesty. their cheating, if it can be called by that name, is conducted on certain established principles. a chinese will 'beat about the bush,' and try every plan to circumvent the man with whom he deals, but when he once makes a bargain he adheres to it unflinchingly. among the merchants i was told that a word is as good as a bond. their slipperiness is confined to preliminaries. china contains good and bad like other countries, but in some things its merchants rank higher than outside barbarians. when the english were at war with the viceroy of canton, the foreigners were driven out and compelled to leave much property with chinese merchants. these chinese never thought of repudiation, but on the contrary made their way to hong kong during the blockade of the canton river for the purpose of settling with the foreigners. old john bell of antermony, who traveled to pekin in the reign of peter the great, in the suite of a russian ambassador, makes the following observations on the chinese: "they are honest, and observe the strictest honor and justice in their dealings. it must, however, be acknowledged that not a few of them are much addicted to knavery and well skilled in the art of cheating. they have, indeed, found many europeans as great proficients in that art as themselves." in the shops at maimaichin there is no display of goods, articles being kept in closets, drawers, show-cases, and on shelves, whence they are taken when called for. this arrangement suggests the propriety of the new york notice: "if you don't see what you want, ask for it." many things are kept in warerooms in other parts of the building, and brought when demanded or the merchant thinks he can effect a sale. in this way they showed me thibet sheep skins, intended for lining dressing-gowns, and of the most luxurious softness. there were silks and other goods in the piece, but the asking prices were very high. i bought a few small articles, but was disappointed when i sought a respectable assortment of knick-knacks. one of the merchants admired my watch and asked through my russian friend how much it cost. i was about to say in russian, 'two hundred roubles,' when my friend checked me. "_dites un enorme prix; deux mille roubles au moins_" accordingly i fixed the price at two thousand roubles. probably the chinaman learned the real value of the watch from this exaggerated figure better than if i had spoken as i first intended. the merchants were courteous and appeared to have plenty of time at command. they brought sweetmeats, confectionery, and tea, in fact the latter article was always ready. they gave us crystalized sugar, resembling rock candy, for sweetening purposes, but themselves drank tea without sugar or milk. they offered us pipes for smoking, and in a few instances russian cigarettes. i found the chinese tobacco very feeble and the pipes of limited capacity. it is doubtless owing to the weakness of their tobacco that they can smoke so continuously. the pipe is in almost constant requisition, the operator swallowing the smoke and emitting it in a double stream through his nostrils. they rarely offered us chinese wine, as that article is repugnant to any but celestials. sometimes they brought sherry and occasionally champagne. [illustration: through ordinary eyes.] i was interested in studying the decorations on window screens and fans, and the various devices on the walls. the chinese mind runs to the hideous in nearly everything fanciful, and most of its works of art abound in griffins and dragons. even the portrait of a tiger or other wild beast is made to look worse than the most savage of his tribe. if there ever was a dog with a mouth such as the chinese artists represent on their canines, he could walk down his own throat with very little difficulty. [illustration: through chinese eyes] the language spoken in the intercourse of russians and chinese at kiachta is a mongrel tongue in which russian predominates. it is a 'pigeon-russian' exactly analagous to the 'pigeon english' of shanghai, hong kong, and san francisco. the chinese at maimaichin can reckon in russian and understand the rudiments of that language very well. i observed at maimaichin, as at san francisco, the tendency to add an 'o' sound to monosyllabic consonant words. a chinese merchant grew familiar during one of my visits, and we exchanged lingual lessons and cards. he held up a tea-spoon and asked me its name. i tried him repeatedly with 'spoon,' but he would pronounce it 'spoonee' in spite of my instructions. when i gave him a card and called it such, he pronounced it 'cardee.' his name was chy-ping-tong, or something of the kind, but i was no more able to speak it correctly than was he to say 'spoon.' he wrote his name in my note-book and i wrote mine in his. beyond the knowledge of possessing chirographic specimens of another language, neither party is wiser. whoever has visited st. petersburg or moscow has doubtless seen the _abacus_, or calculating machine used in russian shops. it is found throughout the empire from the german frontier to bering's straits, not only in the hands of merchants but in many private houses. it consists of a wooden frame ordinarily a foot long and six inches wide. there are ten metal wires strung across this frame, and ten balls of wood on each wire. the russian currency is a decimal one, and by means of this machine computations are carried on with wonderful rapidity. i have seen numbers added by a boy and a machine faster than a new york bank teller could make the same reckoning. it requires long practice to become expert in its use, but when once learned it is preferred by all merchants, whether native or foreign. i saw the same machine at maimaichin, and learned that it was invented by the chinese. the celestials of san francisco employ it in precisely the same manner as their countrymen in mongolia. beside the chinese dwellers in maimaichin there are many mongol natives of the surrounding region, most of them engaged in transporting merchandise to and from the city. i saw several trains of their little two-wheeled carts bringing tea from the southward or departing with russian merchandise, and in one visit i encountered a drove of camels on the neutral ground. chapter xxviii. i have already mentioned the prevalence of feast-days, both national and personal. during my stay in kiachta there were several of these happy occasions, and i was told they would last the entire winter. one man opened his house on his name's day, and another on that of his wife. a third received friends on the anniversary of his daughter's birth, and a fourth had a regular house-warming. each kept open mansion in the forenoon and greeted all who came. there was a grand dinner in the afternoon, followed by a _soiree dansame_ and a supper at a late hour. in a population like that of kiachta there is a weekly average of at least three feast days for the entire year. during my stay major boroslofski had a morning reception on the anniversary of the death of a child, but there was naturally neither dinner nor dance after it. the dinner and dancing parties were much alike, the same company being present at all. even the servants were the same, there being a regular organization to conduct household festivities. at the first dinner i attended there were about forty persons at table, all of the sterner sex. according to the custom among russian merchants the ladies were by themselves in another room. between their apartment and ours there was a large room, corresponding, as i thought, to the neutral ground between kiachta and maimaichin. doors were open, and though nobody occupied the _terre neutrale_ during dinner, both parties retired to it at the end of the meal. the dinner would have been a success in st. petersburg or paris; how much more was it a triumph on the boundary between china and siberia. elegant and richly furnished apartments, expensive table ware, and a profusion of all procurable luxuries, were the attractions of the occasion. we had apples from european russia, three thousand miles westward, and grapes from pekin, a thousand miles to the south. there were liberal quantities of dried and preserved fruits, and the wines were abundant and excellent. of the local productions we had many substantials, till all appetites were satisfied. according to russian custom the host does not partake of the dinner, but is supposed to look after the welfare of his guests. at kiachta i found this branch of etiquette carefully observed. two or three times during the dinner the host passed around the entire table and filled each person's glass with wine. where he found an unemptied cup he urged its drainage. after we left the table tea was served, and i was fain to pronounce it the best i ever tasted. the evening entertainments for those who did not dance consisted of cards and conversation, principally the former. tea was frequently passed around, and at regular intervals the servants brought glasses of iced champagne. the houses of the kiachta merchants are large and well built, their construction and adornment requiring much outlay. nearly all the buildings are of two stories and situated in large court yards. there is a public garden, evidently quite gay and pretty in summer. the church is said to be the finest edifice of the kind in eastern siberia. the double doors in front of the altar are of solid silver, and said to weigh two thousand pounds avoirdupois. besides these doors i think i saw nearly a ton of silver in the various paraphernalia of the church. there were several fine paintings executed in europe at heavy cost, and the floors, walls, and roof of the entire structure were of appropriate splendor. the church was built at the expense of the kiachta merchants. troilskosavsk contains some good houses, but they are not equal in luxury to those at kiachta. many dwellings in the former town are of unpainted logs, and each town has its gastinni-dvor, spacious and well arranged. i visited the market place every morning and saw curious groups of russians, bouriats, mongols, and chinese, engaged in that little commerce which makes the picturesque life of border towns. from to the kiachta merchants enjoyed almost a monopoly of chinese trade. fortunes there are estimated at enormous figures, and one must be a four or five-millionaire to hold respectable rank. possibly many of these worldly possessions are exaggerated, as they generally are everywhere. the chinese merchants of maimaichin are also reputed wealthy, and it is quite likely that the trade was equally profitable on both sides of the neutral ground. money and flesh have affinities. these russian and chinese astors were almost invariably possessed of fair, round belly, with good capon lined. they have the spirit of genuine hospitality, and practice it toward friends and strangers alike. the treaty of , which opened chinese ports to russian ships, was a severe blow to kiachta and maimaichin. up to that time only a single cargo of tea was carried annually into russia by water; all the rest of the herb used in the empire came by land. unfortunately the treaty was made just after the russian and chinese merchants had concluded contracts in the tea districts; these contracts caused great losses when the treaty went into effect, and for a time paralized commerce. kiachta still retains the tea trade of siberia and sends large consignments to nijne novgorod and moscow. there is now a good percentage of profit, but the competition by way of canton and the baltic has destroyed the best of it. under the old monopoly the merchants arranged high prices and did not oppose each other with quick and low sales. the kiachta teas are far superior to those from canton and shanghae. they come from the best districts of china and are picked and cured with great care. there is a popular notion, which the russians encourage, that a sea voyage injures tea, and this is cited as the reason for the character of the herb brought to england and america. i think the notion incorrect, and believe that we get no first class teas in america because none are sent there. i bought a small package of the best tea at kiachta and brought it to new york. when i opened it i could not perceive it had changed at all in flavor. i have not been able to find its like in american tea stores. previous to all trade at kiachta was in barter, tea being exchanged for russian goods. the russian government prohibited the export of gold and silver money, and various subterfuges were adopted to evade the law. candlesticks, knives, idols, and other articles were made of pure gold and sold by weight. of course the goods were "of russian manufacture." before the importation of tea at kiachta was about one million chests annually, and all of good quality and not including brick tea. the "brick tea" of mongolia and northern china is made from stalks, large leaves, and refuse matter generally. this is moistened with sheep's or bullock's blood and pressed into brick-shaped cakes. when dried it is ready for transportation, and largely used by the mongols, bouriats, tartars, and the siberian peasantry. in some parts of chinese tartary it is the principal circulating medium of the people. large quantities are brought into siberia, but "brick-tea" never enters into the computation of kiachta trade. [illustration: legal tender.] since the quantity of fine teas purchased at kiachta has greatly fallen off. the importation of brick-tea is undiminished, and some authorities say it has increased. none of the merchants speak any language but russian, and most of them are firmly fixed at kiachta. they make now and then journeys to irkutsk, and regard such a feat about as a countryman on the penobscot would regard a visit to boston. the few who have been to moscow and st. petersburg have a reputation somewhat analogous to that of marco polo or john ledyard. walking is rarely practiced, and the numbers of smart turnouts, compared to the population, is pretty large. there is no theatre, concert-room, or newspaper office at kiachta, and the citizens rely upon cards, wine, and gossip for amusement. they play much and win or lose large sums with perfect nonchalance. visitors are rare, and the advent of a stranger of ordinary consequence is a great sensation. kiachta and maimaichin stand on the edge of a mongolian steppe seven or eight miles wide. very little snow falls there and that little does not long remain. wheeled carriages are in use the entire year. the elevation is about twenty-five hundred feet above sea level. there was formerly a custom house at troitskosavsk, where the duties on tea were collected. after the occupation of the amoor the government opened all the country east of lake baikal to free trade. the custom house was removed to irkutsk, where all duties are now arranged. there were two englishmen and one frenchman residing at kiachta. the latter, mr. garnier, was a merchant, and was about to many a young and pretty russian whose mother had a large fortune and thirteen dogs. the old lady appeared perfectly clear headed on every subject outside of dogs. a fortnight before my visit she owned fifteen, but the police killed two on a charge of biting somebody. she was inconsolable at their loss, took her bed from grief, and seriously contemplated going into mourning. i asked garnier what would be the result if every dog of the thirteen should have his day. "ah!" he replied, with a sigh, "the poor lady could never sustain it. i fear it would cause her death." one englishman, mr. bishop, had a telegraph scheme which he had vainly endeavored for two years to persuade the stubborn chinese to look upon with favor. the chinese have a superstitious dread of the electric telegraph, and the government is unwilling to do anything not in accordance with the will of the people. a few years ago some americans at shanghae thought it a good speculation to construct a telegraph line between that city and the mouth of the river. the distance was about fifteen miles, and the line when finished operated satisfactorily. the chinese made no interference, either officially or otherwise, with its construction. [illustration: russian pets.] they did not understand its working, but supposed the foreigners employed agile and invisible devils to run along the wires and convey intelligence. all went well for a month or two. one night a chinese happened to die suddenly in a house that stood near a telegraph pole. a knowing celestial suggested that one of the foreign devils had descended from the wire and killed the unfortunate native. a mob very soon destroyed the dangerous innovation. the other englishman, mr. grant, was the projector and manager of a pony express from kiachta to pekin. he forwarded telegrams between london and shanghae merchants, any others who chose to employ him. he claimed that his mongol couriers made the journey to pekin in twelve days, and that he could outstrip the suez and ceylon telegraph and steamers. he seemed a permanent fixture of kiachta, as he had married a russian lady, the daughter of a former governor. all these foreigners placed me under obligations for various favors, and the two britons were certainly more kind to me than to each other. [illustration: pony express.] i spent an evening at the club-rooms, where there was some heavy card-playing. one man lost nine hundred roubles in half an hour, and they told me that such an occurrence was not uncommon. in all card playing i ever witnessed in russia there was 'something to make it interesting.' money is invariably staked, and the russians were surprised when i said, in answer to questions, that people in america generally indulged in cards for amusement alone. ladies had no hesitation in gambling, and many of them followed it passionately. '_chaque pays a sa habitude_,' remarked a lady one evening when i answered her query about card playing in america. it was the russian fashion to gamble, and no one dreamed of making the slightest concealment of it. though i saw it repeatedly i could never rid myself of a desire to turn away when a lady was reckoning her gains and losses, and keeping her accounts on the table cover. russian card tables are covered with green cloth and provided with chalk pencils and brushes for players' use. cards are a government monopoly. [illustration: chinese collar] [illustration: suspended freedom.] on the day fixed for my dinner with the sargoochay i accompanied the police master and captain molostoff to maimaichin. as we entered the court yard of the government house several officers came to receive us. in passing the temple of justice i saw an unfortunate wretch undergoing punishment in a corner of the yard. ho was wearing a collar about three feet in diameter and made of four inch plank. it was locked about his neck, and the man was unable to bring his hand to his head. a crowd was gazing at the culprit, but he seemed quite unconcerned and intent upon viewing the strangers. the chinese have a system of yokes and stocks that seem a refinement of cruelty. they have a cheerful way of confining a man in a sort of cage about three feet square, the top and bottom being of plank and the sides of square sticks. his head passes through the top, which forms a collar precisely like the one described above, while the sides are just long enough to force him to stand upon the tip of his toes or hang suspended by his head. in some instances a prisoner's head is passed through a hole in the bottom of a heavy cask. he cannot stand erect without lifting the whole weight, and the cask is too long to allow him to sit down. he must remain on his knees in a torturing position, and cannot bring his hands to his head. he relies on his friends to feed him, and if he has no friends he must starve. the jailers think it a good joke when a man loses the number of his mess in this way. [illustration: punishment for burglary.] the sargoochay met us in the apartment where our reception took place. he seated us around a table in much the same manner as before. while we waited dinner i exhibited a few photographs of the big trees of california, which i took with me at molostoff's suggestion. i think the representative of his celestial majesty was fairly astonished on viewing these curiosities. the interpreter told him that all trees in america were like those in the pictures, and that we had many cataracts four or five miles high. to handle our food we had forks and chopsticks, and each guest had a small saucer of _soy_, or vinegar, at his right hand. the food was roast pig and roast duck, cut into bits the size of one's thumb nail, and each piece was to be dipped in the vinegar before going into the mouth. then there were dishes of hashed meat or stew, followed by minced pies in miniature. i was a little suspicious of the last articles and preferred to stick to the pig. [illustration: chopsticks, fork, & saucer.] we had good claret and bad sherry, followed by chinese wine. champagne was brought when we began drinking toasts. chinese wine, _sam-shoo,_ is drank hot, from cups holding about a thimbleful. it is very strong, one cup being quite sufficient. the historic bowery boy drinking a glass of chinese wine might think he had swallowed a pyrotechnic display on fourth of july night. we conversed as before, going through english, french, russian, mongol, and chinese, and after dinner smoked our pipes and cigars. the sargoochay had a pipe with a slender bowl that could be taken out for reloading, like the shell of a remington rifle. a single whiff served to exhaust it, and the smoke passing through water became purified. an attendant stood near to manage the pipe of his excellency whenever his services were needed. we endeavored to smoke each others' pipes and were quite satisfied after a minute's experience. his tobacco was very feeble, and i presume mine was too strong for his taste. the sargoochay had ordered a theatrical display in my honor, though it was not 'the season,' and the affair was hastily gotten up. when all was ready he led the way to the theatre; the pipe-bearer came respectfully in our rear, and behind him was the staff and son of the sargoochay. the stage of the theatre faced an open court yard, and was provided with screens and curtains, but had no scenery that could be shifted. about thirty feet in front of the stage was a pavilion of blue cloth, open in front and rear. we were seated around a table under this pavilion, and drank tea and smoked while the performance was in progress. there was a crowd of two or three hundred chinese between the pavilion and the stage. the mongol soldiers kept an open passage five or six feet wide in front of us so that we had an unobstructed view. [illustration: chinese theatre.] a comedy came first, and i had little difficulty in following the story by the pantomime alone. female characters were represented by men, chinese law forbidding women to act on the stage. certain parts of the play were open to objections on account of immodesty, but when no ladies are present i presume a chinese audience is not fastidious. the comedy was followed by something serious, of which i was unable to learn the name. i supposed it represented the superiority of the deities over the living things of earth. first, there came representations of different animals. there were the tiger, bear, leopard, and wolf, with two or three beasts whose genera and species i could not determine. there was an ostrich and an enormous goose, both holding their heads high, while a crocodile, or something like it, brought up the rear. each beast and bird was made of painted cloth over light framework, with a man inside to furnish action. while the tiger was making himself savage the mask fell off, and revealed the head of a chinese. a rent in the skin of the ostrich disclosed the arm of the performer inside. the animals were not very well made, and the accident to the tiger's head reminded me of the bowery elephant whose hind legs became very drunk and fell among the orchestra, leaving the fore legs to finish the play. [illustration: chinese tiger.] each animal made a circuit of the stage, bowed to the sargoochay, and retired. then came half a dozen performers, only one being visible at a time. they were dressed, as i conjectured, to represent chinese divinities, and as each appeared upon the stage he made a short recitation in a bombastic tone. the costumes of these actors were brilliantly decorated with metal ornaments, and there was a luxuriance of beard on most of the performer's faces, quite in contrast to the scanty growth which nature gave them. when the deities were assembled the animals returned and prostrated themselves in submission. a second speech from each actor closed the theatrical display. during all the time we sat under the pavilion the crowd looked at me far more intently than at the stage. an american was a great curiosity in the city limits of maimaichin. the performance began about two o'clock and lasted less than an hour. at its close we thanked the sargoochay for his courtesy, and returned to kiachta. one of my russian acquaintances had invited me to dine with him; "you can dine with the sargoochay at one o'clock," he said, "and will be entirely able to enjoy my dinner two hours later." i found the dinner at maimaichin more pleasing to the eye than the stomach, and returned with a good appetite. some years ago the russian government abolished the office of governor of kiachta and placed its military and kindred affairs in the hands of the chief of police. diplomatic matters were entrusted to a 'commissary of the frontier,' who resided at kiachta, while the chief of police dwelt at troitskosavsk. when i arrived there, mr. pfaffius, the commissary of the frontier, was absent, though hourly expected from irkutsk. mr. pfaffius arrived on the third day of my visit, and invited me to a dinner at his house on the afternoon of my departure for irkutsk. as the first toast of the occasion he proposed the president of the united states, and regretted deeply the misfortune that prevented his drinking the health of mr. lincoln. in a few happy remarks he touched upon the cordial feeling between the two nations, and his utterance of good-will toward the united states was warmly applauded by all the russians present. in proposing the health of the emperor i made the best return in my power for the courtesy of my muscovite friends. chapter xxix. in the year a vessel of three hundred and fifty tons burden sailed from an american port for canton. she was the first to carry the flag of the united states to the shores of cathay, and to begin a commerce that has since assumed enormous proportions. european nations had carried on a limited trade with the chinese before that time, but they were restricted to a single port, and their jealousy of each other prevented their adopting those measures of co-operation that have recently proved so advantageous. china was averse to opening her territory to foreign merchants, and regarded with suspicion all their attempts to gain a foothold upon her soil. on the north, since , the russians had a single point of commercial exchange. in the south canton was the only port open to those who came to china by sea, while along the coast-line, facing to the eastward, the ports were sealed against foreign intrusion. commerce between china and the outer world was hampered by many restrictions, and only its great profits kept it alive. but once fairly established, the barbarian merchants taught the slow-learning chinese that the trade brought advantage to all engaged in it. step by step they pressed forward, to open new ports and extend commercial relations, which were not likely to be discontinued, if only a little time were allowed to show their value. as years rolled on, trade with china increased. for a long time the foreigners trading with china had no direct intercourse with the general government, but dealt only with the local and provincial authorities. it was not until after the famous "opium war" that diplomatic relations were opened with the court at pekin, and a common policy adopted for all parts of the empire, in its dealings with the outer world. considering the extremely conservative character of the chinese, their adherence to old forms and customs, their general unwillingness to do differently from their ancestors, and the not over-amiable character of the majority of the foreigners that went there to trade, it is not surprising that many years were required for commercial relations to grow up and become permanent. the wars between china and the western powers did more than centuries of peace could have done to open the oriental eyes. austria's defeat on the field of sadowa advanced and enlightened her more than a hundred years of peace and victory could have done, at her old rate of progress. the victories of the allied forces in china, culminating in the capture of pekin and dictation of terms by the foreign leaders, opened the way for a free intercourse between the east and west, and the immense advantages that an unrestricted commerce is sure to bring to an industrious, energetic, and economical people. with a river-system unsurpassed by that of any other nation of the world, china relied upon navigation by junks, which crept slowly against the current when urged by strong winds, and lay idle or were towed or poled by men when calms or head-breezes prevailed. of steam applied to propulsion, she had no knowledge, until steamboats of foreign construction appeared in her waters and roused the wonder of the oblique-eyed natives by their mysterious powers. the first steamboat to ascend a chinese river created a greater sensation than did the clermont on her initial voyage along the hudson or her western prototype, several years later, among the indians of the upper missouri.[e] in the first steam venture was made in china. an english house placed a boat on the route between canton and macao, and advertised it to carry freight and passengers on stated days. for the first six months the passengers averaged about a dozen to each trip--half of them europeans, and the rest natives. the second half-year the number of native patrons increased, and by the end of the second year the boat, on nearly every trip, was filled with chinese. the trade became so lucrative that another boat was brought from england and placed on the route, which continued to be a source of profit until the business was overdone by opposition lines. as soon as the treaties permitted, steamers were introduced into the coasting-trade of china, and subsequently upon the rivers and other inland waters. the chinese merchants perceived the importance of rapid and certain transportation for their goods in place of the slow and unreliable service of their junks, and the advance in rates was overbalanced by the increased facilities and the opportunities of the merchants to make six times as many ventures annually as by the old system. [footnote e: a gentleman once described to me the sensation produced by the first steam vessel that ascended one of the chinese rivers. "it was," said he, "a screw steamer, and we were burning anthracite coal that made no smoke. the current was about two miles an hour, and with wind and water unfavorable, the chinese boats bound upward were slowly dragged by men pulling at long tow-lines. we steamed up the middle of the stream, going as rapidly as we dared with our imperfect knowledge, and the necessity of constant sounding. our propeller was quite beneath the water, and so far as outward appearance went there was no visible power to move us. chinamen are generally slow to manifest astonishment, and not easily frightened, but their excitement on that occasion was hardly within bounds. men, women, and children ran to see the monster, and after gazing a few moments a fair proportion of them took to their heels for safety. dogs barked and yelped on all the notes of the chromatic scale, occasional boats' crews jumped to the shore, and those who stuck to their oars did their best to get out of our way."] probably there is no people in the world that can be called a nation of shop-keepers more justly than the chinese; thousands upon thousands of them are engaged in petty trade, and the competition is very keen. of course, where there is an active traffic the profits are small, and any thing that can assist the prompt delivery of merchandise and the speedy transmission of intelligence, money, credits, or the merchant himself, is certain to be brought into full use. no accurate statistics are at hand of the number of foreign steamers now in china, but well-informed parties estimate the burden of american coasting and river-vessels at upward of thirty thousand tons, while that of other nationalities is much larger. steamboats, with a burden of more than ten thousand tons, are owned by chinese merchants, and about half that quantity is the joint property of chinese and foreigners. in managing their boats and watching the current expenses, the chinese are quite equal to the english and americans, and are sometimes able to carry freight upon terms ruinous to foreign competitors. foreign systems of banking and insurance have been adopted, and work successfully. the chinese had a mode of banking long before time european nations possessed much knowledge of financial matters; and it is claimed that the first circulating-notes and bills-of-credit ever issued had their origin during a monetary pressure at pekin. but they were so unprogressive that, when intercourse was opened with the western world, they found their own system defective, and were forced to adopt the foreign innovation. insurance companies were first owned and managed by foreigners at the open ports, and as soon as the plan of securing themselves against loss by casualties was understood by the chinese merchants, they began to form companies on their own account, and carry their operations to the interior of the empire. all the intricacies of the insurance business--even to the formation of fraudulent companies, with imaginary officers, and an explosion at a propitious moment--are fully understood and practised by the chinese. by the facilities which the advent of foreigners has introduced to the chinese, the native trade along the rivers and with the open ports has rapidly increased. on the rivers and along the coast the steamers and native boats are actively engaged, and the population of the open ports has largely increased in consequence of the attractions offered to the people of all grades and professions. the greatest extension has been in the foreign trade, which, from small beginnings, now amounts to more than nine hundred millions of dollars annually. where formerly a dozen or more vessels crept into canton yearly, there are now hundreds of ships and steamers traversing the ocean to and from the accessible points of the coast of the great eastern empire. america has a large share of this commerce with china, and from the little beginning, in , she has increased her maritime service, until she now has a fleet of sailing ships second to none in the world, and a line of magnificent steamers plying regularly across the pacific, and bringing the east in closer alliance with the west than ever before. [illustration: chinese punishment.] railways will naturally follow the steamboat, and an english company is now arranging to supply the chinese with a railway-system to connect the principal cities, and especially to tap the interior districts, where the water communications are limited. there is no regular system of mail-communication in china; the government transmits intelligence by means of couriers, and when merchants have occasion to communicate with persons at a distance they use private expresses. foreign and native merchants, doing an extensive business, keep swift steamers, which they use as despatch-boats, and sometimes send them at heavy expense to transmit single messages. it has happened that, on a sudden change of markets, two or more houses in hong kong or shanghae have despatched boats at the same moment; and some interesting and exciting races are recorded in the local histories. the barriers of chinese exclusion were broken down when the treaties of the past ten years opened the empire to foreigners, and placed the name of china on the list of diplomatic and treaty powers. the last stone of the wall that shut the nation from the outer world was overthrown when the court at pekin sent an embassy, headed by a distinguished american, to visit the capitals of the western nations, and cement the bonds of friendship between the west and the east. it was eminently fitting that an american should be selected as the head of this embassy, and eminently fitting, too, that the ambassador of the oldest nation should first visit the youngest of all the great powers of the world. america, just emerged from the garments of childhood, and with full pride and consciousness of its youthful strength, presents to ruddy england, smiling france, and the other members of the family of nations, graybeard and dignified china, who expresses joy at the introduction, and hopes for a better acquaintance in the years that are to come. during his residence at pekin, mr. burlingame interested himself in endeavoring to introduce the telegraph into china, and though meeting with opposition on account of certain superstitions of the chinese, he was ultimately successful. the chinese do not understand the working of the telegraph--at least the great majority of them do not--and like many other people elsewhere, with regard to any thing incomprehensible, they are inclined to ascribe it to a satanic origin. in california, the chinese residents make a liberal use of the telegraph; though they do not trouble themselves with an investigation of its workings, they fully appreciate its importance. john, in california, is at liberty to send his messages in "pigeon-english," and very funny work he makes of it occasionally. chin lung, in sacramento, telegraphs to ming yup, in san francisco, "you me send one piecee me trunk," which means, in plain language, "send me my trunk." mr. yup complies with the request, and responds by telegraph, "me you trunkee you sendee." the inventor of pigeon-english is unknown, and it is well for his name that it has not been handed down; he deserves the execration of all who are compelled to use the legacy he has left. it is just as difficult for a chinese to learn pigeon-english as it would be to learn pure and honest english, and it is about as intelligible as greek or sanscrit to a newly-arrived foreigner. in shanghae or hong kong, say to your chinese _ma-foo_, who claims to speak english, "bring me a glass of water," and he will not understand you. repeat your order in those words, and he stands dumb and uncomprehending, as though you had spoken the dialect of the moon. but if you say, "you go me catchee bring one piecee glass water; savey," and his tawny face beams intelligence as he obeys the order. in the phrase, "pigeon-english," the word pigeon means "business," and the expression would be more intelligible if it were "business-english." many foreigners living in china have formed the habit of using this and other words in their chinese sense, and sometimes one hears an affair of business called "a pigeon." a gentleman whom i met in china used to tell, with a great deal of humor, his early experiences with the language. "when i went to shanghae," said he, "i had an introduction to a prominent merchant, who received me very kindly, and urged me to call often at his office. a day or two later i called, and inquired for him. 'won't be back for a week or two,' said the clerk; 'he has gone into the country, about two hundred miles, after a little pigeon.' i asked no questions, but as i bowed myself out, i thought, 'he must be a fool, indeed. go two hundred miles into the country after a pigeon, and a little one at that! he has lost his senses, if he ever possessed any.'" nearly all the trade with china is carried on at the southern and eastern ports, and comparatively few of the foreign merchants in china have ever been at pekin, which was opened only a few years ago. but the war with the allied powers, the humiliation of the government, the successes of the rebels, and the threatened extinction of the ruling dynasty, led to important changes of policy. the treaty of tientsin, in , opened the empire as it had never been open before. foreigners could travel in china where they wished, for business or pleasure, and the navigable rivers were declared free to foreign boats. pekin was opened to travelers but not to foreign merchants; but it is probable that commerce will be carried to that city before long. there is an extensive trade at tientsin, ninety miles south of the capital, and when it becomes necessary to carry it to the doors of the palace of the celestial ruler, the diplomats will not be slow to find a sufficient pretext for it. chapter xxx. the great cities of china are very much alike in their general features. none of them have wide streets, except in the foreign quarters, and none of them are clean; in their abundance of dirt they can even excel new york, and it would be worth the while for the rulers of the american metropolis to visit china and see how filthy a city can be made without half trying. the most interesting city in china is pekin, for the reason that it has long been the capital, and contains many monuments of the past greatness and the glorious history of the celestial empire. its temples are massive, and show that the chinese, hundreds of years ago, were no mean architects; its walls could resist any of the ordinary appliances of war before the invention of artillery, and even the tombs of its rulers are monuments of skill and patience that awaken the admiration of every beholder. throughout china pekin is reverentially regarded, and in many localities the man who has visited it is regarded as a hero. though the capital, it is the most northern city of large population in the whole empire. pekin is divided into the chinese city and the tartar one, the division was made at the time of the tartar conquest, and for many years the two people refused to associate freely. a wall separates the cities; the gates through it are closed at night, and only opened when sufficient reason is given. if the party who desires to pass the gate can give no verbal excuse he has only to drop some money in the hands of the gate-keeper, and the pecuniary apology is considered entirely satisfactory. time has softened the asperities of tartar and chinese association, so that the two people mingle freely, and it is impossible for a stranger to distinguish one from the other. many chinese live in the tartar town and transact business, and i fancy that they would not always find it easy to explain their pedigree, or, at all events, that of some of their children. the foreign legations are in the tartar city, for the reason that the government offices are there, and also for the reason that it is the most pleasant, (or the least unpleasant,) part of pekin to reside in. all the embassies have spacious quarters, with the exception of the russian one, which is the oldest; when it was established there it was a great favor to be allowed any residence whatever. [illustration: provision dealer.] from the center gate between the chinese and tartar cities there is a street two or three miles long, and having the advantages of being wide, straight, and dirty. it is blocked up with all sorts of huckster's stalls and shops, and is kept noisy with the shouts of the people who have innumerable articles for sale. especially in summer is there a liberal assemblage of peddlers, jugglers, beggars, donkey drivers, merchants, idlers, and all the other professions and non-professions that go to make up a population. the peddlers have fruit and other edibles, not omitting an occasional string of rats suspended from bamboo poles, and attached to cards on which the prices, and sometimes the excellent qualities of the rodents, are set forth. it is proper to remark that the chinese are greatly slandered on the rat question. as a people they are not given to eating these little animals; it is only among the poorer classes that they are tolerated, and then only because they are the cheapest food that can be obtained. i was always suspicious when the chinese urged me to partake of little meat pies and dumplings, whose components i could only guess at, and when the things were forced upon me i proclaimed a great fondness for stewed duck and chicken, which were manifestly all right. but i frankly admit that i do not believe they would have inveigled me into swallowing articles to which the european mind is prejudiced, and my aversion arose from a general repugnance to hash in all forms--a repugnance which had its origin in american hotels and restaurants. the jugglers are worth a little notice, more i believe than they obtain from their countrymen. they attract good audiences along the great street of pekin, but after swallowing enough stone to load a pack-mule, throwing up large bricks and allowing them to break themselves on his head, and otherwise amusing the crowd for half an hour or so, the poor necromancer cannot get cash enough to buy himself a dinner. those who feel disposed to give are not very liberal, and their donations are thrown into the ring very much as one would toss a bone to a bull-dog. sometimes a man will stand with a white painted board, slightly covered with thick ink, and while talking with his auditors he will throw off, by means of his thumb and fingers, excellent pictures of birds and fishes, with every feather, fin, and scale done with accuracy. such genius ought to be rewarded, but it rarely receives pecuniary recognition enough to enable its possessor to dress decently. other slight-of-hand performances abound; the chinese are very skillful at little games of thimble-rig and the like, and when a stranger chooses to make a bet on their operations they are sure to take in his money. in sword-swallowing and knife-throwing, the natives of the flowery kingdom are without rivals, and the uninitiated spectator can never understand how a man can make a breakfast of asiatic cutlery without incurring the risk of dyspepsia. [illustration: chinese mendicants.] china is the paradise of beggars--i except italy from the mendicant list--so far as numbers are concerned, though they do not appear to flourish and live in comfort. there are many dwarfs, and it is currently reported at pekin that they are produced and cultivated for the special purpose of asking alms. one can be very liberal in china at small expense, as the smallest coin is worth only one-fifteenth of a cent, and a shilling's worth of "cash" can be made to go a great way if the giver is judicious. many of the beggars are blind, and they sometimes walk in single file under the direction of a chief; they are nearly all musicians, and make the most hideous noises, which they call melody. anybody with a sensitive ear will pay them to move on where they will annoy somebody beside himself. many of the beggars are almost naked, and they attract attention by striking their hands against their hips and shouting at the top of their voices. one day the wife of the french minister at pekin gave some garments to those who were the most shabbily dressed; the next morning they returned as near naked as ever, and some of them entirely so. outside of the tartar city there is a beggar's lodging house, which bears the name of "the house of the hen's feathers." it is a hall, with a floor of solid earth and a roof of thin laths caulked and plastered with mud. the floor is covered with a thick bed of feathers, which have been gathered in the markets and restaurants of pekin, without much regard to their cleanliness. there is an immense quilt of thick felt the exact size of the hall, and raised and lowered by means of mechanism. when the curfew tolls the knell of parting day, the beggars flock to this house, and are admitted on payment of a small fee. they take whatever places they like, and at an appointed time the quilt is lowered. each lodger is at liberty to lie coiled up in the feathers, or if he has a prejudice in favor of fresh air, he can stick his head through one of the numerous holes that the coverlid contains. a view of this quilt when the heads are protruding is suggestive of an apartment where dozens of dilapidated chinese have been decapitated. all night long the lodgers keep up a frightful noise; the proprietor, like the individual in the same business in new york, will tell you, "i sells the place to sleep, but begar, i no sells the sleep with it." the couch is a lively one, as the feathers are a convenient warren for a miscellaneous lot of living things not often mentioned in polite society. in the southern cities of china one sees fewer women in the street than in the north. those that appear in public are always of the poorer classes, and it is rare indeed that one can get a view of the famous small-footed women. the odious custom of compressing the feet is much less common at pekin than in the southern provinces. the manjour emperors of china opposed it ever since their dynasty ascended the throne, and on several occasions they issued severe edicts against it. the tartar and chinese ladies that compose the court of the empresses have their feet of the natural size, and the same is the case with the wives of many of the officials. but such is the power of fashion that many of these ladies have adopted the theatrical slipper, which is very difficult to walk with. no one can tell where the custom of compressing the feet originated, but it is said that one of the empresses was born with deformed feet, and set the fashion, which soon spread through the empire. the jealousy of the men and the idleness and vanity of the women have served to continue the custom. every chinese who can afford it will have at least one small-footed wife, and she is maintained in the most perfect indolence. for a woman to have a small foot is to show that she is of high birth and rich family, and she would consider herself dishonored if her parents failed to compress her feet. [illustration: the favorite.] when remonstrated with about the practice, the chinese retort by calling attention to the compression of the waist as practiced in europe and america. "it is all a matter of taste," said a chinese merchant one day when addressed on the subject. "we like women with small feet and you like them with small waists. what is the difference?" and what _is_ the difference? the compression is begun when a girl is six years old, and is accomplished with strong bandages. the great toe is pressed beneath the others, and these are bent under, so that the foot takes the shape of a closed fist. the bandages are drawn tighter every month, and in a couple of years the foot has assumed the desired shape and ceased to grow. [illustration: female feet and shoe.] very often this compression creates diseases that are difficult to heal; it is always impossible for the small-footed woman to walk easily, and sometimes she cannot move without support. to have the finger-nails very long is also a mark of aristocracy; sometimes the ladies enclose their nails in silver cases, which are very convenient for cleansing the ears of their owner or tearing out the eyes of somebody else. walking along the great street of pekin, one is sure to see a fair number of gamblers and gambling houses. gambling is a passion with the chinese, and they indulge it to a greater extent than any other people in the world. it is a scourge in china, and the cause of a great deal of the poverty and degradation that one sees there. there are various games, like throwing dice, and drawing sticks from a pile, and there is hardly a poor wretch of a laborer who will not risk the chance of paying double for his dinner on the remote possibility of getting it for nothing. the rich are addicted to the vice quite as much as the poor, and sometimes they will lose their money, then their houses, their lands, their wives, their children, and so on up to themselves, when they have nothing else that their adversaries will accept. the winter is severe at pekin, and it sometimes happens that men who have lost everything, down to their last garments, are thrust naked into the open air, where they perish of cold. sometimes a man will bet his fingers on a game, and if he loses he must submit to have them chopped off and turned over to the winner. [illustration: a lottery prize.] there is a tradition that one of the chinese emperors used to get up lotteries, in which the ladies of the court were the prizes. he obtained quite a revenue from the business, which was popular with both the players and the prizes, as the latter were enabled to obtain husbands without the trouble of negotiation. the lottery has a place in the chinese courts of justice. there is one mode of capital punishment in which a dozen or twenty knives are placed in a covered basket, and each knife is marked for a particular part of the body. the executioner puts his hand under the cover and draws at random. if the knife is for the toes, they are cut off one after another; if for the feet, they are severed, and so on until a knife for the heart or neck is reached. usually the friends of the victim bribe the executioner to draw early in the game a knife whose wound will be fatal, and he generally does as he agrees. the bystanders amuse themselves by betting as to how long the culprit will stand it. facetious dogs, those chinese. to enumerate all the ways of inflicting punishment in china would be to fill a volume. punishment is one of the fine arts, and a man who can skin another elegantly is entitled to rank as an artist. the bastinado and floggings are common, and then they have huge shears, like those used in tin shops, for snipping off feet and arms, very much as a gardener would cut off the stem of a rose. some years ago the environs of tientsin were infested by bands of robbers who were suspected of living in villages a few miles away. the governor was ordered by the imperial authority to suppress these robberies, and in order to get the right persons he sent out his soldiers and arrested everybody, old and young, in the suspected villages. of course there were innocent persons among the captives, but that made no difference; some of them were blind, and others crippled, but the police had orders to bring in everybody. the prisoners were summarily tried; some of them had their heads cut off, others were imprisoned, and others were whipped. nobody escaped without some punishment; the result was that the robber bands were broken up and the robberies ceased. [illustration: a chinese palanquin.] [illustration: a pekin cab.] it is not easy to go about pekin. it is a city of magnificent distances, and the sights which one wants to see are far apart. the streets are bad, being dusty in dry weather and muddy when it rains, and the carriage way is cut up with deep ruts that make riding very uncomfortable. the cabs of pekin are little carts, just large enough for two persons of medium size. they are without springs, and not very neatly arranged inside. if one does not like them he can walk or take a palanquin--there are plenty of palanquins in the city, and they do not cost an exorbitant sum. they are not very commodious, but infinitely preferable to the carts. the comforts of travel are very few in china. a chinese never travels for pleasure, and he does not understand the spirit that leads tourists from one end of the world to the other in search of adventure. when he has nothing to do he sits down, smokes his pipe, and thinks about his ancestors. he never rides, walks, dances, or takes the least exercise for pleasure alone. it is business and nothing else that controls his movements. when an english ship touched at hong kong some years ago, the captain gave a ball to the foreign residents, and invited several chinese merchants to attend the festivities. one heavy old merchant who had never before seen anything of the kind, looked on patiently, and when the dance was concluded he beckoned the captain to his side and asked if he could not get his servants to do that work and save him the trouble. [illustration: priest in temple of confucius.] one of the great curiosities of pekin is the temple of confucius, where once a year the emperor worships the great sage without the intervention of paintings or images. in the central shrine there is a small piece of wood, a few inches long, standing upright and bearing the name of confucius in chinese characters. the temple contains several stone tablets, on which are engraved the records of honor conferred on literary men, and it is the height of a chinese scholar's ambition to win a place here. there are several fine trees in the spacious court yard, and they are said to have been planted by the mongol dynasty more than five hundred years ago. the building is a magnificent one, and contains many curious relics of the various dynasties, some of them a thousand years old. the ceiling is especially gorgeous, and the tops of the interior walls are ornamented with wooden boards bearing the names of the successive emperors in raised gilt characters. as soon as an emperor ascends the throne he at once adds his name to the list. the temple of heaven and the temple of earth are also among the curiosities of pekin. the former stands in an enclosed space a mile square, and has a great central pavilion, with a blue roof, and a gilt top that shines in the afternoon sun like the dome of st. isaac's church at st. petersburg. the enclosed space includes a park, beautifully laid out with avenues of trees and with regular, well paved walks. in the park are some small buildings where the priests live, that is to say, they are small compared with the main structure, though they are really fine edifices. the great pavilion is on a high causeway, and has flights of steps leading up to it from different directions. the pavilion is three stories high, the eaves of each story projecting very far and covered with blue enameled tiles. an enormous gilt ball crowns the whole, and around the building there is a bewildering array of arches and columns, with promenades and steps of white marble, evincing great skill and care in their construction. unfortunately, the government is not taking good care of the temple, and the grass is growing in many places in the crevices of the pavements. the temple of earth is where the emperor goes annually to witness the ceremony of opening the planting season, and to inaugurate it by ploughing the first furrow. the ceremony is an imposing one, and never fails to draw a large assemblage. one of the most interesting objects in the vicinity of pekin previous to was "yuen-ming yuen," or the summer palace of the emperor, kien loong. it was about eight miles northwest of the city, and bore the relation to pekin that versailles does to paris. i say _was_, because it was ravaged by the english and french forces in their advance upon the chinese capital, and all the largest and best of the buildings were burned. the country was hilly, and advantage was taken of this fact, so that the park presented every variety of hill, dale, woodland, lawn, garden, and meadow, interspersed with canals, pools, rivulets, and lakes, with their banks in imitation of nature. the park contained about twelve square miles, and there were nearly forty houses for the residence of the emperor's ministers, each of them surrounded with buildings for large retinues of servants. the summer palace, or central hall of reception, was an elaborate structure, and when it was occupied by the french army thousands of yards of the finest silk and crape were found there. these articles were so abundant that the soldiers used them for bed clothes and to wrap around other plunder. the cost of this palace amounted to millions of dollars, and the blow was severely felt by the chinese government. the park is still worth a visit, but less so than before the destruction of the palace. in the country around pekin there are many private burying grounds belonging to families; the chinese do not, like ourselves, bury their dead in common cemeteries, but each family has a plot of its own. sometimes a few families combine and own a place together; they generally select a spot in a grove of trees, and make it as attractive as possible. the chinese are more careful of their resting places after death than before it; a wealthy man will live in a miserable hovel, but he looks forward to a commodious tomb beneath pretty shade trees. the tender regard for the dead is an admirable trait in the chinese character, and springs, no doubt, from that filial piety which is so deeply engraved on the oriental mind. [illustration: comforts and conveniences.] [illustration: filial affection.] in europe and america it is the custom not to mention coffins in polite society, and the contemplation of one is always mournful. but in china a coffin is a thing to be made a show of, like a piano. in many houses there is a room set apart for the coffins of the members of the family, and the owners point them out with pride. they practice economy to lay themselves out better than their rivals, and sometimes a man who has made a good thing by swindling or robbing somebody, will use the profits in buying a coffin, just as an american would treat himself to a gold watch or diamond pin. the most elegant gift that a child can make to his sick father is a coffin that he has paid for out of his own labor; it is not considered a hint to the old gentleman to hand in his checks and get out of the way, but rather as a mark of devotion which all good boys should imitate. the coffins are finely ornamented, according to the circumstances of the owner, and i have heard that sometimes a thief will steal a fine one and commit suicide--first arranging with his friends to bury him in it before his theft is discovered. if he is not found out he thinks he has made a good thing of it. whenever the chinese sell ground for building purposes they always stipulate for the removal of the bones of their ancestors for many generations. the bones are carefully dug up and put in earthen jars, when they are sealed up, labeled, and put away in a comfortable room, as if they were so many pots of pickles and fruits. every respectable family in china has a liberal supply of potted ancestors on hand, but would not part with them at any price. nothing can surpass the calm resignation with which the chinese part with life. they die without groans, and have no mental terror at the approach of death. abbe hue says that when they came for him to administer the last sacraments to a dying convert, their formula of saying that the danger was imminent, was in the words, "the sick man does not smoke his pipe." when a chinese wishes to revenge himself upon another he furtively places a corpse upon the property of his enemy. this subjects the man on whose premises the body is found to many vexatious visits from the officials, and also to claims on the part of the relations of the dead man. the height of a joke of this kind is to commit suicide on another man's property in such a way as to appear to have been murdered there. this will subject the unfortunate object of revenge to all sorts of legal vexations, and not unfrequently to execution. suicide for revenge would be absurd in america, but is far from unknown at the antipodes. [illustration: tail piece--opium pipe] chapter xxxi. it was my original intention to make a journey from kiachta to pekin and back again, but the lateness of the season prevented me. i did not wish to be caught in the desert of gobi in winter. i talked with several persons who had traversed mongolia, and among them a gentleman who had just arrived from the chinese capital. i made many notes from his recital which i found exceedingly interesting. for a time the chinese refused passports to foreigners wishing to cross mongolia; but on finding their action was likely to cause trouble, they gave the desired permission, though accompanying it with an intimation that the privilege might be suspended at any time. the bonds that unite mongolia to the great empire are not very strong, the natives being somewhat indifferent to their rulers and ready at any decent provocation to throw off their yoke. though engaged in the peaceful pursuits of sheep-tending, and transporting freight between russia and china, they possess a warlike spirit and are capable of being roused into violent action. they are proud of tracing their ancestry to the soldiers that marched with genghis khan, and carried his victorious banners into central europe; around their fires at night no stories are more eagerly heard than those of war, and he who can relate the most wonderful traditions of daring deeds may be certain of admiration and applause. the first "outside barbarian," other than russians, who attempted this overland journey, was a young french count, who traveled in search of adventure. proceeding eastward from st. petersburg, he reached kiachta in . after some hesitation, the governor-general of eastern siberia appointed him secretary to a russian courier _en route_ for pekin. he made the journey without serious hindrance, but on reaching the chinese capital his nationality was discovered, and he was forced to return to siberia. from pekin the traveller destined for siberia passes through the northern gate amid clouds of dust or pools of mud, according as the day of his exit is fair or stormy. he meets long strings of carts drawn by mules, oxen, or ponies, carrying country produce of different kinds to be digested in the great maw of the imperial city. animals with pack-saddles, swaying under heavy burdens, swell the caravans, and numerous equestrians, either bestriding their steeds, or sitting sidewise in apparent carelessness, are constantly encountered. now and then an unruly mule causes a commotion in the crowd by a vigorous use of his heels, and a watchful observer may see an unfortunate native sprawling on the ground in consequence of approaching too near one of the hybrid beasts. chinese mules _will_ kick as readily as their american cousins; and i can say from experience, that their hoofs are neither soft nor delicate. they can bray, too, in tones terribly discordant and utterly destructive of sleep. the natives have a habit of suppressing their music when it becomes positively unbearable, and the means they employ may be worth notice. a chinaman says a mule cannot bray without elevating his tail to a certain height; so to silence the beast he ties a stone to that ornamental appendage, and depends upon the weight to shut off the sound. out of compassion to the mule, he attaches the stone so that it rests upon the ground and makes no strain as long as the animal behaves himself. [illustration: a musical stop.] a chinese pack-mule will carry about four hundred pounds of dead weight, if properly adjusted. the loads are not lashed on the animals' backs, but simply balanced; consequently, they must be very nicely divided and arranged on each side of the saddles. on the road from pekin the track is so wretched, and the carts so roughly made, that journeying with wheeled vehicles is next to an impossibility. travelers go on horseback--if their circumstances allow--and by way of comfort, especially if there be ladies in the party, they generally provide themselves with mule-litters. the mule-litter is a goodly-sized palanquin, not quite long enough for lying at full length, but high enough to allow the passenger to sit erect. there is a box or false flooring in the bottom, to accommodate baggage in small parcels that can be easily stowed. a good litter has the sides stuffed to save the occupant from bruises; and with plenty of straw and a couple of pillows, he generally finds himself quite comfortable. the body is fastened to two strong and flexible poles that extend fore and aft far enough to serve as shafts for a couple of mules. at the ends of the shafts their points are connected by stout bands of leather that pass over the saddles of the respective mules; each band is kept in place by an iron pin fixed in the top of the saddle, and passing through a hole in the leather. as the shafts are long enough to afford the animals plenty of walking room, there is a good deal of spring to the concern, and the motion is by no means disagreeable. sometimes the bands slip from the shafts, and in such case the machine comes to the ground with a disagreeable thump; if the traveler happens to be asleep at the time he can easily imagine he is being shot from a catapult. just outside of pekin there is a sandy plain, and beyond it a fine stretch of country under careful cultivation, the principal cereal being millet, that often stands ten or twelve feet high. some cotton is grown, but the region is too far north to render its culture profitable. about twenty miles from pekin is the village of sha-ho, near two old stone bridges that span a river now nearly dried away. the village is a sort of half-way halting place between. pekin and the nankow pass, a rocky defile twelve or fifteen miles long. the huge boulders and angular fragments of stone have been somewhat worn down and smoothed by constant use, though they are still capable of using up a good many mule-hoofs annually. with an eye to business, a few traveling farriers hang about this pass, and find occasional employment in setting shoes. chinese shoeing, considered as a fine art, is very much in its infancy. animals are only shod when the nature of the service requires it; the farriers do not attempt to make shoes to order, but they keep a stock of iron plates on hand, and select the nearest size they can find. they hammer the plate a little to fit it to the hoof and then fasten it on; an american blacksmith would be astonished at the rapidity with which his chinese brother performs his work. the pass of nankow contains the remains of several old forts, which were maintained in former times to protect china from mongol incursions. the natural position is a strong one, and a small force could easily keep at bay a whole army. just outside the northern entrance of the pass there is a branch of one of the "great walls" of china. it was built some time before _the_ great wall. foreigners visiting pekin and desiring to see the great wall are usually taken to nankow, and gravely told they have attained the object they seek. perhaps it is just as well for them to believe so, since they avoid a journey of fifty miles farther over a rough road to reach the real great wall; besides, the chinese who have contracted to take them on the excursion are able to make a nice thing of it, since they charge as much for one place as for the other. the country for a considerable distance is dotted with old forts and ruins, and the remains of extensive earthworks. many battles were fought here between the chinese and the mongols when genghis khan made his conquest. for a long time the assailants were kept at bay, but one fortress after another fell into their hands, and finally the capture of the nankow pass by che-pee, one of genghis khan's generals, laid pekin at their mercy. [illustration: nankow pass.] there is a tradition that the loss of the first line of northern forts was due to a woman. intelligence was transmitted in those days by means of beacon fires, and the signals were so arranged as to be rapidly flashed through the empire. once a lady induced the emperor to give the signal and summon his armies to the capital. the mandarins assembled with their forces, but on finding they had been simply employed at the caprice of a woman, they returned angrily to their homes. by-and-by the enemy came; the beacon fires were again lighted; but this time the mandarins did not heed the call for assistance. the great wall--the real one--crosses the road at chan-kia-kow, a large and scattered town lying in a broad valley, pretty well enclosed by mountains. the russians call the town kalgan (gate), but the natives never use any other than the chinese name. in maps made from russian authorities, kalgan appears, while in those taken from the chinese, the other appellation is used. kalgan (i stick to the russian term, as more easily pronounced, though less correct) is the centre of the transit trade from pekin to kiachta, and great quantities of tea and other goods pass through it annually. several russians are established there, and the town contains a population of chinese from various provinces of the empire, mingled with mongols and thibetans in fair proportion. the religion is varied, and embraces adherents to all the branches of chinese theology, together with mongol lamas and a considerable sprinkling of mahommedans. there are temples, lamissaries, and mosques, according to the needs of the faithful; and the russian inhabitants have a chapel of their own, and are thus able to worship according to their own faith. the mingling of different tribes and kinds of people in a region where manners and morals are not severely strict, has produced a result calculated to puzzle the present or future ethnologist. many of the merchants have grown wealthy, and take life as comfortably as possible; they furnish their houses in the height of chinese style, and some of them have even sent to russia for the wherewith to astonish their neighbors. the great wall runs along the ridge of hills in a direction nearly east and west; where it crosses the town it is kept in good repair, but elsewhere it is very much in ruins, and could offer little resistance to an enemy. many of the towers remain, and some of them are but little broken. they seem to have been better constructed than the main portions of the wall, and, though useless against modern weapons, were, no doubt, of importance in the days of their erection. the chinese must have held the mongol hordes in great dread, to judge by the labor expended to guard against incursions. as kalgan is the frontier town between china and mongolia, many mongols go there for all purposes, from trading down to loafing. they bring their camels to engage in transporting goods across the desert, and indulge in a great deal of traffic on their own account. they drive cattle, sheep, and horses from their pastures farther north, and sell them for local use, or for the market at pekin. mutton is the staple article of food, and nearly always cheap and abundant. the hillsides are covered with flocks, which often graze where nothing else can live. in the autumn, immense numbers of sheep are driven to pekin, and sometimes the road is fairly blocked with them. every morning there is a horse-fair on an open space just beyond the great wall, and on its northern side. the modes of buying and selling horses are very curious, and many of the tricks would be no discredit to american jockeys. the horses are tied or held wherever their owners can keep them, and in the centre of the fair grounds there is a space where the beasts are shown off. they trot or gallop up and down the course, their riders yelling as if possessed of devils, and holding their whips high in air. these riders are generally mongols; their garments flutter like the decorations of a scarecrow in a morning breeze, and their pig-tails, if not carefully triced up, stand out at right angles like ships' pennants in a northeast gale. notwithstanding all the confusion, it rarely happens that anybody is run over, though there are many narrow escapes. [illustration: racing at the kalgan fair.] the fair is attended by two classes of people--those who want to trade in horses, and those who don't; between them they manage to assemble a large crowd. there are always plenty of curbstone brokers, or intermediaries, who hang around the fair to negotiate purchases and sales. they have a way of conducting trades by drawing their long sleeves over their hands, and making or receiving bids by means of the concealed fingers. this mode of telegraphing is quite convenient when secrecy is desired, and prevails in many parts of asia. taverneir and other travelers say the diamond merchants conduct their transactions in this manner, even when no one is present to observe them. [illustration: street in kalgan.] unless arrangements have been made beforehand, it will be necessary to spend three or four days at kalgan in preparing for the journey over the desert. camels must be hired, carts purchased, baggage packed in convenient parcels, and numerous odds and ends provided against contingencies. of course, there is generally something forgotten, even after careful attention to present and prospective wants. but we are off at last. the start consumes the greater part of a day, as it is best to have nothing done carelessly at the outset. the heavy baggage is loaded upon the camels, the animals lying down and patiently waiting while their cargoes are stowed. pieces of felt cloth are packed between and around their humps, to prevent injury from the cords that sustain the bundles. the drivers display much ingenuity in arranging the loads so that they shall be easily balanced, and the sides of the beasts as little injured as possible. spite of precautions, the camels get ugly sores in their sides and backs, which grow steadily worse by use. occasionally their hoofs crack and fill with sand, and when this occurs, their owner has no alternative but to rest them a month or two, or risk losing their services altogether. the principal travel over the desert is in the cold season. in the autumn, the camels are fat, and their humps appear round and hard. they are then steadily worked until spring, and very often get very little to eat. as the camel grows thin, his humps fall to one side, and the animal assumes a woe-begone appearance. in the spring, his hair falls off; his naked skin wrinkles like a wet glove, and he becomes anything but an attractive object. [illustration: in good condition.] as a beast of burden, the camel is better than for purposes of draft. he can carry from six hundred to eight hundred pounds, if the load be properly placed on his back; but when he draws a cart the weight must be greatly diminished. in crossing mongolia, heavy baggage is carried on camels, but every traveler takes a cart for riding purposes, and alternates between it and his saddle horse. the cart is a sort of dog-house on two wheels; its frame is of wood, and has a covering of felt cloth, thick enough to ward off a light fall of rain, and embarrass a heavy one. it is barely high enough to allow a man to sit erect, but not sufficiently long to enable him to lie at full length. the body rests directly upon the axle, so that the passenger gets the full benefit of every jolt. the camel walks between the shafts, and his great body is the chief feature of the scenery when one looks ahead. the harness gives way occasionally, and allows the shafts to fall to the ground; when this happens, the occupant runs the risk of being dumped among the ungainly feet that propel his vehicle. one experience of this kind is more than satisfactory. after passing a range of low mountains north of kalgan, the road enters the table-land of mongolia, elevated about five thousand feet above the sea. the country opens into a series of plains and gentle swells, not unlike the rolling prairies of kansas and nebraska, with here and there a stretch of hills. very often not a single tree is visible, and the only stationary objects that break the monotony of the scene are occasional yourts, or tents of the natives. all the way along the road there are numerous trains of ox-carts, and sometimes they form a continuous line of a mile or more. those going southward are principally laden with logs of wood from the valley of the tolla, about two hundred miles from the siberian frontier. the logs are about six or seven feet long, and their principal use is to be cut into chinese coffins. many a gentleman of pekin has been stowed in a coffin whose wood grew in the middle of mongolia; and possibly when our relations with the empire become more intimate, we shall supply the chinese coffin market from the fine forests of our pacific coast. chapter xxxii. north of kalgan the native habitations are scattered irregularly over the country wherever good water and grass abound. the mongols are generally nomadic, and consult the interest of their flocks and herds in their movements. in summer they resort to the table-land, and stay wherever fancy or convenience dictates; in winter they prefer the valleys where they are partially sheltered from the sharp winds, and find forage for their stock. the desert is not altogether a desert; it has a great deal of sand and general desolation to the day's ride, but is far from being a forsaken region where a wolf could not make a living. antelopes abound, and are often seen in large droves as upon our western plains; grouse will afford frequent breakfasts to the traveler if he takes the trouble to shoot them; there are wild geese, ducks, and curlew in the ponds and marshes; and taken for all in all, the country might be much worse than it is--which is bad enough. the flat or undulating country is, of course, monotonous. sunset and sunrise are not altogether unlike those events on the ocean, and if a traveler wishes to feel himself quite at sea, he has only to wander off and lose his camp or caravan. the natives make nothing of straying out of sight, and seem to possess the instincts which have been often noted in the american indian. without landmarks or other objects to guide them, they rarely mistake their position, even at night, and can estimate the extent of a day's journey with surprising accuracy. where a stranger can see no difference between one square mile of desert and a thousand others, the mongol can distinguish it from all the rest, though he may not be able to explain why. perception is closely allied to instinct, and as fast as we are developed and educated the more we trust to acquired knowledge and the less to the unaided senses. of course it is quite easy for a stranger to be lost in the mongolian desert beyond all hope of finding his way again, unless some one comes to his aid. a russian gentleman told me his experience in getting lost there several years ago. "i used," said he, "to have a fondness for pursuing game whenever we sighted any, which was pretty often, and as i had a couple of hardy ponies, i did a great deal of chasing. one afternoon i saw a fine drove of antelopes, and set out in pursuit of them. the chase led me further than i expected: the game was shy, and i could not get near enough for a good shot; after a long pursuit i gave up, and concluded to return to the road. just as i abandoned the chase the sun was setting. my notion of the direction i ought to go was not entirely clear, as i had followed a very tortuous course in pursuing the antelopes. "i was not altogether certain which way i turned when i left the road. it was my impression that i went to the eastward and had been moving away from the sun; so i turned my pony's head in a westerly direction and followed the ridges, which ran from east to west. hour after hour passed away, the stars came out clear and distinct in the sky, and marked off the progress of the night as they, slowly moved from east to west. i grew hungry, and thirsty, and longed most earnestly to reach the caravan. my pony shared my uneasiness, and moved impatiently, now endeavoring to go in one direction and now in another. thinking it possible that he might know the proper route better than i, i gave him free rein, but soon found he was as much at fault as myself. then i fully realized i was lost in the desert. "without compass or landmark to guide me, there was no use in further attempts to find the caravan. following the mongol custom, i carried a long rope attached to my saddle-bow, and with this i managed to picket the pony where he could graze and satisfy his hunger. how i envied his ability to eat the grass, which, though scanty, was quite sufficient. i tried to sleep, but sleeping was no easy matter. first, i had the consciousness of being lost. then i was suffering from hunger and thirst, and the night, like all the nights in mongolia, even in midsummer, was decidedly chilly, and as i had only my ordinary clothing, the cold caused me to shiver violently. the few snatches of sleep i caught were troubled with many dreams, none of them pleasant. all sorts of horrible fancies passed through my brain, and i verily believe that though i did not sleep half an hour in the whole night, the incidents of my dreams were enough for a thousand years. [illustration: lost in the desert of gobi.] "thoughts of being devoured by wild beasts haunted me, though in truth i had little of this fate to fear. the only carnivorous beasts on the desert are wolves, but as game is abundant, and can be caught with ordinary exertion, they have no occasion to feed upon men. about midnight my fears were roused by my pony taking alarm at the approach of some wild beast. he snorted and pulled at his rope, and had it not been for my efforts to soothe him, he would have broken away and fled. i saw nothing and heard nothing, though i fancied i could discover half a dozen dark forms on the horizon, and hear a subdued howl from an animal i supposed to be a wolf. "morning came. i was suffering from hunger, and more from thirst. my throat was parched, my tongue was swollen, and there was a choking sensation as if i were undergoing strangulation. how i longed for water! mounting my horse, i rode slowly along the ridge toward the west, and after proceeding several miles, discovered a small lake to my right. my horse scented it earlier than i, and needed no urging to reach it. dismounting, i bent over and drank from the edge, which was marked with the tracks of antelopes, and of numerous aquatic birds. the water was brackish and bitter, but i drank it with eagerness. my thirst was satisfied, but the water gave me a severe pain in my stomach, that soon became almost as unendurable as the previous dryness. i stood for some minutes on the shore of the lake, and preparing to remount my horse, the bridle slipped from my hand. mongol ponies are generally treacherous, and mine proved no exception to the rule. finding himself free, he darted off and trotted back the way we had come. "i know that search would be made for me, and my hope now lay in some one coming to the lake. it did not require long deliberation to determine me to remain in the vicinity of the water. as long as i was near it i could not perish of thirst; and moreover, the mongols, who probably knew of the lake, might be attracted here for water, and, if looking for me, would be likely to take the lake in the way. tying my kerchief to my ramrod, which i fixed in the ground, i lay down on the grass and slept, as near as i could estimate, for more than two hours. "seeing some water-fowl a short distance away, i walked in their direction, and luckily found a nest among the reeds, close to the water's edge. the six or eight eggs it contained were valuable prizes; one i swallowed raw, and the others i carried to where i left my gun. gathering some of the dry grass and reeds, i built a fire and roasted the eggs, which gave me a hearty meal. the worst of my hardships seemed over. i had found water--bad water, it is true--but still it was possible to drink it; by searching among the reeds i could find an abundance of eggs; my gun could procure me game, and the reeds made a passable sort of fuel. i should be discovered in a few days at farthest, and i renewed my determination to remain near the lake. "the day passed without any incident to vary the monotony. refreshed by my meal and by a draught from a small pool of comparatively pure water, i was able to sleep most of the afternoon, so as to keep awake during the night, when exercise was necessary to warmth. about sunset a drove of antelopes came near me, and by shooting one i added venison to my bill of fare. in the night i amused myself with keeping my fire alive, and listening to the noise of the birds that the unusual sight threw into a state of alarm. on the following morning, as i lay on my bed of reeds, a dozen antelopes, attracted by my kerchief fluttering in the wind, stood watching me, and every few minutes approaching a few steps. they were within easy shooting distance, but i had no occasion to kill them. so i lay perfectly still, watching their motions and admiring their beauty. "all at once, though i had not moved a muscle, they turned and ran away. while i was wondering what could have disturbed them i heard the shout of two mongol horsemen, who were riding toward me, and leading my pony they had caught a dozen miles away. a score of men from the caravan had been in search of me since the morning after my disappearance, and had ridden many a mile over the desert." the mongols are a strong, hardy, and generally good-natured race, possessing the spirit of perseverance quite as much as the chinese. they have the free manners of all nomadic people, and are noted for unvarying hospitality to visitors. every stranger is welcome, and has the best the host can give; the more he swallows of what is offered him, the better will be pleased the household. as the native habits are not especially cleanly, a fastidiously inclined guest has a trying time of it. the staple dish of a mongol yourt is boiled mutton, but it is unaccompanied with capers or any other kind of sauce or seasoning. a sheep goes to pot immediately on being killed, and the quantity that each man will consume is something surprising. when the meat is cooked it is lifted out of the hot water and handed, all dripping and steamy, to the guests. each man takes a large lump on his lap, or any convenient support, and then cuts off little chunks which he tosses into his mouth as if it were a mill-hopper. the best piece is reserved for the guest of honor, who is expected to divide it with the rest; after the meat is devoured they drink the broth, and this concludes the meal. knives and cups are the only aids to eating, and as every man carries his own "outfit," the mongol dinner service is speedily arranged. the entire work consists in seating the party around a pot of cooked meat. [illustration: mongol dinner table.] the desert is crossed by various ridges and small mountain chains, that increase in frequency and make the country more broken as one approaches the tolla, the largest stream between pekin and kiachta. the road, after traversing the last of these chains, suddenly reveals a wide valley which bears evidence of fertility in its dense forests, and the straggling fields which receive less attention than they deserve. the tolla has an ugly habit of rising suddenly and falling deliberately. when at its height, the stream has a current of about seven miles an hour, and at the fording place the water is over the back of an ordinary pony. the bottom of the river consists of large boulders of all sizes from an egg up to a cotton bale, and the footing for both horses and camels is not specially secure. the camels need a good deal of persuasion with clubs before they will enter the water; they have an instinctive dread of that liquid and avoid it whenever they can. horses are less timorous, and the best way to get a camel through the ford is to lead him behind a horse and pound him vigorously at the same time. when the river is at all dangerous there is always a swarm of natives around the ford ready to lend a hand if suitably compensated. they all talk very much and in loud tones; their voices mingle with the neighing of horses, the screams of camels, the roaring of the river, and the laughter of the idlers when any mishap occurs. the confused noises are in harmony with the scene on either bank, where baggage is piled promiscuously, and the natives are grouped together in various picturesque attitudes. men with their lower garments rolled as high as possible, or altogether discarded, walk about in perfect nonchalance; their queues hanging down their backs seem designed as rudders to steer the wearers across the stream. [illustration: crossing the tolla] about two miles from the ford of the tolla there is a chinese settlement, which forms a sort of suburb to the mongol town of urga. the mongols have no great friendship for the chinese inhabitants, who are principally engaged in traffic and the various occupations connected with the transport of goods. between this suburb and the main town the russians have a large house, which is the residence of a consul and some twenty or thirty retainers. the policy of maintaining a consulate there can only be explained on the supposition that russia expects and intends to appropriate a large slice of mongolia whenever opportunity offers. she has long insisted that the chain of mountains south of urga was the "natural boundary," and her establishment of an expensive post at that city enables her to have things ready whenever a change occurs. in the spirit of annexation and extension of territory the russians can fairly claim equal rank with ourselves. i forget their phrase for "manifest destiny," and possibly they may not be willing that i should give it. urga is not laid out in streets like most of the chinese towns; its by-ways and high-ways are narrow and crooked, and form a network very puzzling to a stranger. the chinese and russian settlers live in houses, and there are temples and other permanent buildings, but the mongols live generally in yourts, which they prefer to more extensive structures. most of the mongol traffic is conducted in a large esplanade, where you can purchase anything the country affords, and at very fair prices. the principal feature of urga is the lamissary or convent where a great many lamas or holy men reside. i have heard the number estimated at fifteen thousand, but cannot say if it be more or less. the religion of the mongols came originally from thibet, by direct authority of the grand lama, but a train of circumstances which i have not space to explain, has made it virtually independent. the chinese government maintains shrewd emissaries among these lamas, and thus manages to control the mongols and prevent their setting up for themselves. as a further precaution it has a lamissary at pekin, where it keeps two thousand mongol lamas at its own expense. in this way it is able to influence the nomads of the desert, and in case of trouble it would possess a fair number of hostages for an emergency. about the year the great battle between timoujin and the sovereign then occupying the mongol throne was fought a short distance from urga. the victory was decisive for the former, who thus became genghis khan and commenced that career of conquest which made his name famous. great numbers of devotees from all parts of mongolia visit urga every year, the journey there having something of the sacred character which a mahommedan attaches to a pilgrimage to mecca. the people living at urga build fences around their dwellings to protect their property from the thieves who are in large proportion among the pious travelers. from urga to the siberian frontier the distance is less than two hundred miles; the russian couriers accomplish it in fifty or sixty hours when not delayed by accidents, but the caravans require from four to eight days. there is a system of relays arranged by the chinese so that one can travel very speedily if he has proper authority. couriers have passed from kiachta to pekin in ten or twelve days; but the rough road and abominable carts make them feel at their journey's end about as if rolled through a patent clotheswringer. a mail is carried twice a month each way by the russians. several schemes have been proposed for a trans-mongolian telegraph, but thus far the chinese government has refused to permit its construction. the desert proper is finished before one reaches the mountains bordering the tolla; after crossing that stream and leaving urga the road passes through a hilly country, sprinkled, it is true, with a good many patches of sand, but having plenty of forest and frequently showing fertile valleys. these valleys are the favorite resorts of the mongol shepherds and herdsmen, some of whom count their wealth by many thousand animals. in general, mongolia is not agricultural, both from the character of the country and the disposition of the people. a few tribes in the west live by tilling the soil in connection with stock raising, but i do not suppose they take kindly to the former occupation. the mongols engaged in the caravan service pass a large part of their lives on the road, and are merry as larks over their employment. they seem quite analogous to the teamsters and miscellaneous "plainsmen" who used to play an important part on our overland route. a large proportion of the men engaged in this transit service are lamas, their sacred character not excusing them, as many suppose, from all kinds of employment. many lamas are indolent and manage in some way to make a living without work, but this is by no means the universal character of the holy men. about one-fifth of the male population belong to the religious order, so that there are comparatively few families which do not have a member or a relative in the pale of the church. if not domiciled in a convent or blessed by fortune in some way, the lama turns his hand to labor, though he is able at the same time to pick up occasional presents for professional service. many of them act as teachers or schoolmasters. theoretically he cannot marry any more than a romish priest, but his vows of celibacy are not always strictly kept. one inconvenience under which he labors is in never daring to kill anything through fear that what he slaughters may contain the soul of a relative, and possibly that of the divine bhudda. a lama will purchase a sheep on which he expects to dine, and though fully accessory before and after the fact, he does not feel authorized to use the knife with his own hand. even should he be annoyed by fleas or similar creeping things (if it were a township or city the lama's body could return a flattering census,) he must bear the infliction until patience is thoroughly exhausted. at such times he may call an unsanctified friend and subject himself and garments to a thorough examination. [illustration: the schoolmaster.] every lama carries with him a quantity of written prayers, which he reads or recites, and the oftener they are repeated the greater is their supposed efficacy. quantity is more important than quality, and to facilitate matters they frequently have a machine, which consists of a wheel containing a lot of prayers. sometimes it is turned by hand and sometimes attached to a wind-mill; the latter mode being preferred. abbe hue and others have remarked a striking similarity between the bhuddist and roman catholic forms of worship and the origin of the two religions. hue infers that bhuddism was borrowed from christianity; on the other hand, many lamas declare that the reverse is the case. the question has caused a great deal of discussion first and last, but neither party appears disposed to yield. the final stretch of road toward the siberian frontier is across a sandy plain, six or eight miles wide. on emerging from the hills at its southern edge the dome of the church in kiachta appears in sight, and announces the end of mongolian travel. no lighthouse is more welcome to a mariner than is the view of this russian town to a traveler who has suffered the hardships of a journey from pekin. [illustration: tail piece] chapter xxxiii. the week i remained at kiachta was a time of festivity from beginning to end. i endeavored to write up my journal but was able to make little more than rough notes. the good people would have been excusable had they not compelled me to drink so much excellent champagne. the amiable merchants of kiachta are blessed with such capacities for food and drink that they do not think a guest satisfied until he has swallowed enough to float a steamboat. i found an excellent _compagnon du voyage_, and our departure was fixed for the evening after the dinner with mr. pfaffius. a change from dinner dress to traveling costume was speedily made, and i was _gotovey_ when my friend arrived with several officers to see us off. about eight o'clock we took places in my tarantass, and drove out of the northern gate of troitskosavsk. my traveling companion was mr. richard maack, superintendent of public instruction in eastern siberia. he was just finishing a tour among the schools in the trans-baikal province, and during fourteen years of siberian life, he had seen a variety of service. he accompanied general mouravieff oil the first expedition down the amoor, and wrote a detailed account of his journey. subsequently he explored the ousuree in the interest of the russian geographical society. he said that his most arduous service was in a winter journey to the valley of the lena, and along the shores of the arctic ocean. the temperature averaged lower than in dr. kane's hibernation on the coast of greenland, and once remained at - ° for nearly three weeks. of five persons comprising the party, maack is the only survivor. one of his companions fell dead in general mouravieff's parlor while giving his account of the exploration. we determined to be comfortable on the way to irkutsk. we put our baggage in a telyaga with maack's servant and took the tarantass to ourselves. the road was the same i traveled from verkne udinsk to kiachta, crossing the selenga at selenginsk. we slept most of the first night, and timed our arrival at selenginsk so as to find the school in session. during a brief halt while the smotretal prepared our breakfast, maack visited the school-master at his post of duty. over the hills behind a lake about a day's ride from selenginsk there is a bouriat village of a sacred character. it is the seat of a large temple or lamisary whence all the bouriats in siberia receive their religious teachings. a grand lama specially commissioned by the great chief of the bhuddist faith at thibet, presides over the lamisary. he is supposed to partake of the immortal essence of bhudda, and when his body dies, his spirit enters a younger person who becomes the lama after passing a certain ordeal. the village is wholly devoted to religious purposes, and occupied exclusively by bouriats. i was anxious to visit it, but circumstances did not favor my desires. we made both crossings of the selenga on the ice without difficulty. it was only a single day from the time the ferry ceased running until the ice was safe for teams. we reached verkne udinsk late in the evening, and drove to a house where my companion had friends. the good lady brought some excellent nalifka of her own preparation, and the more we praised it the more she urged us to drink. what with tea, nalifka, and a variety of solid food, we were pretty well filled during a halt of two hours. it was toward midnight when we emerged from the house to continue our journey. maack found his tarantass at verkne udinsk, and as it was larger and better than mine we assigned the latter to evan and the baggage, and took the best to ourselves. evan was a yakut whom my friend brought from the lena country. he was intelligent and active, and assisted greatly to soften the asperities of the route. with my few words of russian, and his quick comprehension, we understood each other very well. during the first few hours from verkne udinsk the sky was obscured and the air warm. my furs were designed for cold weather, and their weight in the temperature then prevailing threw me into perspiration. in my dehar i was unpleasantly warm, and without it i shivered. i kept alternately opening and closing the garment, and obtained very little sleep up to our arrival at the first station. while we were changing horses the clouds blew away and the temperature fell several degrees. under the influence of the cold i fell into a sound sleep, and did not heed the rough, grater-like surface of the recently frozen road. from verkne udinsk to lake baikal, the road follows the selenga valley, which gradually widens as one descends it. the land appears fertile and well adapted to farming purposes but only a small portion is under cultivation. the inhabitants are pretty well rewarded for their labor if i may judge by the appearance of their farms and villages. until reaching ilyensk, i found the cliffs and mountains extending quite near the river. in some places the road is cut into the rocks in such a way as to afford excitement to a nervous traveler. the villages were numerous and had an air of prosperity. here and there new houses were going up, and made quite a contrast to the old and decaying habitations near them. my attention was drawn to the well-sweeps exactly resembling those in the rural districts of new england. from the size of the sweeps, i concluded the wells were deep. the soil in the fields had a loose, friable appearance that reminded me of the farming lands around cleveland, ohio. one of the villages where we changed horses is called kabansk from the russian word '_kaban_' (wild boar). this animal abounds in the vicinity and is occasionally hunted for sport. the chase of the wild boar is said to be nearly as dangerous as that of the bear, the brute frequently turning upon his pursuer and making a determined fight. we passed the monastery of troitska founded in for the conversion of the bouriats. it is an imposing edifice built like a russian church in the middle of a large area surrounded by a high wall. though it must have impressed the natives by its architectural effects it was powerless to change their faith. [illustration: wild boar hunt.] as it approaches lake baikal the selenga divides into several branches, and encloses a large and very fertile delta. the afternoon following our departure from verkne udinsk, we came in sight of the lake, and looked over the blue surface of the largest body of fresh water in northern asia. the mountains on the western shore appeared about eight or ten miles away, though they were really more than thirty. we skirted the shore of the lake, turning our horses' heads to the southward. the clear water reminded me of lake michigan as one sees it on approaching chicago by railway from the east. its waves broke gently on a pebbly beach, where the cold of commencing winter had changed much of the spray to ice. there was no steamer waiting at posolsky, but we were told that one was hourly expected. maack was radiant at finding a letter from his wife awaiting him at the station. i enquired for letters but did not obtain any. unlike my companion. i had no wife at irkutsk. [illustration: a wife at irkutsk.] [illustration: no wife at irkutsk.] the steamboat landing is nine versts below the town, and as the post route ended at posolsky, we were obliged to engage horses at a high rate, to take us to the port. the alternate freezing and thawing of the road--its last act was to freeze--had rendered it something like the rough way in a son-of-malta lodge. the agent assured us the steamer would arrive during the night. was there ever a steamboat agent who did not promise more than his employers performed? according to the tourist's phrase the port of posolsky can be 'done' in about five minutes. the entire settlement comprised two buildings, one a hotel, and the other a storehouse and stable. a large quantity of merchandise was piled in the open air, and awaited removal. it included tea from kiachta, and vodki or native whiskey from irkutsk. there are several distilleries in the trans-baikal province, but they are unable to meet the demand in the country east of the lake. from what i saw _in transitu_ the consumption must be enormous. the government has a tax on vodki equal to about fifty cents a gallon, which is paid by the manufacturers. the law is very strict, and the penalties are so great that i was told no one dared attempt an evasion of the excise duties, except by bribing the collector. the hotel was full of people waiting for the boat, and the accommodations were quite limited. we thought the tarantass preferable to the hotel, and retired early to sleep in our carriage. a teamster tied his horses to our wheels, and as the brutes fell to kicking during the night, and attempted to break away, they disturbed our slumbers. i rose at daybreak and watched the yemshicks making their toilet. the whole operation was performed by tightening the girdle and rubbing the half-opened eyes. morning brought no boat. there was nothing very interesting after we had breakfasted, and as we might be detained there a whole week, the prospect was not charming. we organized a hunting excursion, maack with his gun and i with my revolver. i assaulted the magpies which were numerous and impertinent, and succeeded in frightening them. gulls were flying over the lake; maack desired one for his cabinet at irkutsk, but couldn't get him. he brought down an enormous crow, and an imprudent hawk that pursued a small bird in our vicinity. his last exploit was in shooting a partridge which alighted, strange to say, on the roof of the hotel within twenty feet of a noisy crowd of yemshicks. the bird was of a snowy whiteness, the siberian partridge changing from brown to white at the beginning of winter, and from white to brown again as the snow disappears. a "soudna" or sailing barge was anchored at the entrance of a little bay, and was being filled with tea to be transported to irkutsk. the soudna is a bluff-bowed, broad sterned craft, a sort of cross between noah's ark and a chinese junk. it is strong but not elegant, and might sail backward or sidewise nearly as well as ahead. its carrying capacity is great in proportion to its length, as it is very wide and its sides rise very high above the water. every soudna i saw had but one mast which carried a square sail. these vessels can only sail with the wind, and then not very rapidly. an american pilot boat could pass a thousand of them without half trying. about noon we saw a thin wreath of smoke betokening the approach of the steamer. in joy at this welcome sight we dined and bought tickets for the passage, ours of the first class being printed in gold, while evan's billet for the deck was in democratic black. it cost fifteen roubles for the transport of each tarantass, but our baggage was taken free, and we were not even required to unload it. [illustration: a soudna.] there is no wharf at posolsky and no harbor, the steamers anchoring in the open water half a mile from shore. passengers, mails, and baggage are taken to the steamer in large row boats, while heavy freight is carried in soudnas. the boat that took us brought a convoy of exiles before we embarked. they formed a double line at the edge of the lake where they were closely watched by their guards. when we reached the steamer we found another party of prisoners waiting to go on shore. all were clad in sheepskin pelisses and some carried extra garments. several women and children accompanied the party, and i observed two or three old men who appeared little able to make a long journey. one sick man too feeble to walk, was supported by his guards and his fellow prisoners. though there was little wind, and that little blew from shore, the boat danced uneasily on the waves. our carriages came off on the last trip of the boat, and were hoisted by means of a running tackle on one of the steamer's yards. while our embarkation was progressing a crew of russians and bouriats towed the now laden soudna to a position near our stern. when all was ready, we took her hawser, hoisted our anchor and steamed away. for some time i watched the low eastern shore of the lake until it disappeared in the distance. posolsky has a monastery built on the spot where a russian embassador with his suite was murdered by bouriats about the year . the last objects i saw behind me were the walls, domes, and turrets of this monastery glistening in the afternoon sunlight. they rose clear and distinct on the horizon, an outwork of christianity against the paganism of eastern asia. the steamer was the _ignalienif_, a side wheel boat of about tons. her model was that of an ocean or coasting craft, she had two masts, and could spread a little sail if desired. her engines were built at ekaterineburg in the ural mountains, and hauled overland miles. she and her sister boat, the _general korsackoff_, are very profitable to their owners during the months of summer. they carry passengers, mails, and light freight, and nearly always have one or two soudnas in tow. their great disadvantage at present is the absence of a port on the eastern shore. the navigation of lake baikal is very difficult. storms arise with little warning, and are often severe. at times the boats are obliged to remain for days in the middle of the lake as they cannot always make the land while a gale continues. there was very little breeze when we crossed, but the steamer was tossed quite roughly. the winds blowing from the mountains along the lake, frequently sweep with great violence and drive unlucky soudnas upon the rocks. the water of the lake is so clear that one can see to a very great depth. the lake is nearly four hundred miles long by about thirty or thirty-five in width; it is twelve hundred feet above the sea level, and receives nearly two hundred tributaries great and small. its outlet, the angara, is near the southwestern end, and is said to carry off not more than a tenth of the water that enters the lake. what becomes of the surplus is a problem no one has been able to solve. the natives believe there is an underground passage to the sea, and sonic geologists favor this opinion. soundings of feet have been made without finding bottom. on the western shore the mountains rise abruptly from the water, and in some places no bottom has been found at feet depth, within pistol shot of the bank. this fact renders navigation dangerous, as a boat might be driven on shore in even a light breeze before her anchors found holding ground. the natives have many superstitions concerning lake baikal. in their language it is the "holy sea," and it would be sacrilege to term it a lake. certainly it has several marine peculiarities. gulls and other ocean birds frequent its shores, and it is the only body of fresh water on the globe where the seal abounds. banks of coral like those in tropical seas exist in its depths. [illustration: after the earthquake.] the mountains on the western shore are evidently of volcanic origin, and earthquakes are not unfrequent. a few years ago the village of stepnoi, about twenty miles from the mouth of the selenga, was destroyed by an earthquake. part of the village disappeared beneath the water while another part after sinking was lifted twenty or thirty feet above its original level. irkutsk has been frequently shaken at the foundations, and on one occasion the walls of its churches were somewhat damaged. around lake baikal there are several hot springs, some of which attract fashionable visitors from irkutsk during the season. [illustration: lake baikal in winter] the natives say nobody was ever lost in lake baikal. when a person is drowned there the waves invariably throw his body on shore. the lake does not freeze until the middle of december, and sometimes later. its temperature remains pretty nearly the same at all seasons, about ° fahrenheit. in winter it is crossed on the ice, the passage ordinarily occupying about five hours. the lake generally freezes when the air is perfectly still so that the surface is of glossy smoothness until covered with snow. a gentleman in irkutsk described to me his feelings when he crossed lake baikal in winter for the first time. the ice was six feet thick, but so perfectly transparent that he seemed driving over the surface of the water. the illusion was complete, and not wholly dispelled when he alighted. "starting from the western side, the opposite coast was not visible, and i experienced" said my friend, "the sensation of setting out in a sleigh to cross the atlantic from liverpool to new york." in summer and in winter communication is pretty regular, but there is a suspension of travel when the ice is forming, and another when it breaks up. this causes serious inconvenience, and has led the government to build a road around the southern extremity of the lake. the mountains are lofty and precipitous, and the work is done at vast expense. the road winds over cliffs and crags sometimes near the lake and again two thousand feet above it. largo numbers of peasants, bouriats, and prisoners have been employed there for several years, but the route was not open for wheeled vehicles at the time i crossed the lake. one mode of cutting the road through the mountains was to build large bonfires in winter when the temperature was very low. the heat caused the rock to crack so that large masses could be removed, but the operation was necessarily slow. the insurrection of june, , occurred on this road. formerly a winter station was kept on the ice half-way across the lake. by a sudden thaw at the close of one winter the men and horses of a station were swallowed up, and nothing was known of them until weeks afterward, when their bodies were washed ashore. since this catastrophe the entire passage of the lake, about forty miles, is made without change of horses. we left posolsky and enjoyed a sunset on the lake. the mountains rise abruptly on the western and southeastern shores, and many of their snow covered peaks were beautifully tinged by the fading sunlight. the illusion regarding distances was difficult to overcome, and could only be realized by observing how very slowly we neared the mountains we were approaching. the atmosphere was of remarkable purity, and its powers of refraction reminded me of past experience in the rocky mountains. we had sunset and moon-rise at once. 'adam had no more in eden save the head of eve upon his shoulder.' the boat went directly across and then followed the edge of the lake to listvenichna, our point of debarkation. there was no table on board. we ordered the samovar, made our own tea, and supped from the last of our commissary stores. our fellow passengers in the cabin were two officers traveling to irkutsk, and a st. petersburg merchant who had just finished the amoor company's affairs. we talked, ate, drank, smoked, and slept during the twelve hours' journey. congratulate us on our quick passage! on her very next voyage the steamer was eight days on the lake, the wind blowing so that she could not come to either shore. to be cooped on this dirty and ill-provided boat long enough to cross the atlantic is a fate i hope never to experience. there is a little harbor at listvenichna and we came alongside a wharf. maack departed with our papers to procure horses, and left me to look at the vanishing crowd. take the passengers from the steerage of a lake or river steamer in america, dress them in sheepskin coats and caps, let them talk a language you cannot understand, and walk them into a cloud of steam as if going overboard in a fog, and you have a passable reproduction of the scene. a bright fire should be burning on shore to throw its contrast of light and shadow over the surroundings and heighten the picturesque effect. just as the deck hands were rolling our carriages on shore my companion returned, and announced our horses ready. we sought a little office near the head of the wharf where the chief of the '_tamojna_' (custom house) held his court. this official was known to mr. maack, and on our declaring that we had no dutiable effects we were passed without search. as before remarked all the country east of lake baikal is open to free trade. this result has been secured by the efforts of the present governor general of eastern siberia. under his liberal and enlightened policy he has done much to break down the old restrictions and develop the resources of a country over which he holds almost autocratic power. it was about three in the morning when we started over the frozen earth. two miles from the landing we reached the custom house barrier where a pole painted with the government colors stretched across the road. presenting our papers from the chief officer we were not detained. on the steamer when we were nearing harbor our conversation turned upon the custom house. it was positively asserted that the officials were open to pecuniary compliments, much, i presume like those in other lands. the gentleman from the amoor had considerable baggage, and prepared a five rouble note to facilitate his business. evidently he gave too little or did not bribe the right man, as i left him vainly imploring to be let alone in the centre of a pile of open baggage, like marius in the ruins of carthage. the road follows the right bank of the angara from the point where it leaves the lake. the current here is very strong, and the river rushes and breaks like the rapids of the st. lawrence. for several miles from its source it never freezes even in the coldest winters. during the season of ice this open space is the resort of many waterfowl, and is generally enveloped in a cloud of mist. at the head of the river rises a mass of rock known as _shaman kamen_ (spirit's rock). it is held in great veneration by the natives, and is believed to be the abode of a spirit who constantly overlooks the lake. when shamanism prevailed in this region many human sacrifices were made at the sacred rock. the most popular method was by tying the hands of the victim and tossing him into the 'hell of waters' below. many varieties of fish abound in the lake, and ascend its tributary rivers. the fishery forms quite a business for the inhabitants of the region, who find a good market at irkutsk. the principal fish taken are two or three varieties of sturgeon, the herring, pike, carp, the _askina_, and a white fish called _tymain_. there is a remarkable fish consisting of a mass of fat that burns like a candle and melts away in the heat of the sun or a fire. it is found dead on the shores of the lake after violent storms. a live one has never been seen. [illustration: a specimen.] the distance to irkutsk from our landing was about forty miles, and we hoped to arrive in time for breakfast. a snow storm began about dayliglit, so that i did not see much of the wooded valley of the river. we met a train of sixty or seventy carts, each carrying a cask of vodki. this liquid misery was on its way to the trans-baikal, and the soudna which brought a load of tea would carry vodki as a return cargo. the clouds thinned and broke, the snow ceased falling, and the valley became distinct. while i admired its beauty, we reached the summit of a hill and i saw before me a cluster of glittering domes and turrets, rising from a wide bend in the angara. at first i could discern only churches, but very soon i began to distinguish the streets, avenues, blocks, and houses of a city. we entered irkutsk through its eastern gate, and drove rapidly along a wide street, the busiest i had yet seen in asiatic russia. just as the sun burst in full splendor through the departing clouds, i alighted in the capital of oriental siberia, half around the world from my own home. [illustration: tail piece--the world] chapter xxxiv. as we entered the city a cossack delivered a letter announcing that i was to be handed over to the police, who had a lodging ready for me. on learning of my presence at kiachta the governor general kindly requested an officer of his staff to share his rooms with me. captain paul, with whom i was quartered, occupied pleasant apartments overlooking the _gastinni-dvor_. he was leading a bachelor life in a suite of six rooms, and had plenty of space at my disposal. that i might lose no time, the chief of police stationed the cossack with a letter telling me where to drive. i removed the dust and costume of travel as soon as possible, and prepared to pay my respects to the governor general. my presentation was postponed to the following day, and as the russian etiquette forbade my calling on other officials before i had seen the chief, there was little to be done in the matter of visiting. the next morning i called upon general korsackoff, delivered my letters of introduction, and was most cordially welcomed to irkutsk. the governor general of eastern siberia controls a territory larger than all european russia, and much of it is not yet out of its developing stage. he has a heavy responsibility upon his shoulders in leading his subjects in the way best for their interests and those of the crown. much has been done under the energetic administration of general korsackoff and his predecessor, and there is room to accomplish much more. the general has ably withstood the cares and hardships of his siberian life. he is forty-five years of age, active and vigorous, and capable of doing much before his way of life is fallen into the sere and yellow leaf. like madame de stael, he possesses the power of putting visitors entirely at their ease. to my single countrywomen i will whisper that general korsackoff is of about medium height, has a fair complexion, blue eyes, and saxon hair, and a face which the most crabbed misanthrope could not refuse to call handsome. he is unmarried, and if rumor tells the truth, not under engagement. [illustration: gov. gen'l korsackoff.] the governor general lives in a spacious and elegant house on the bank of the angara, built by a merchant who amassed an immense fortune in the chinese trade. on retiring from business he devoted his time and energies to constructing the finest mansion in eastern siberia. it is a stone building of three stories, and its halls and parlors are of liberal extent. furniture was brought from st. petersburg at enormous cost, and the whole establishment was completed without regard to expense. at the death of its builder the house was purchased by government, and underwent a few changes to adapt it to its official occupants. on the opposite bank of the river there is a country seat, the private property of general korsackoff, and his dwelling place in the hot months. it was my good fortune that mr. maack was obliged by etiquette to visit his friends on returning from his journey. i arranged to accompany him, and during that day and the next we called upon many persons of official and social position. these included the governor and vice governor of irkutsk, the chief of staff and heads of departments, the mayor of the city, and the leading merchants. succeeding days were occupied in receiving return visits, and when these were ended i was fairly a member of the society of the siberian capital. the evening after my arrival i returned early to my lodgings to indulge in a russian bath. captain paul was absent, but his servant managed to inform me by words and pantomime that all was ready. on the captain's return the man said he had told me in german that the bath was waiting. "how did you speak german?" asked the captain, aware that his man knew nothing but russian. "oh," said the servant, "i rubbed my hands over my face and arms and pointed toward the bath-room." on the morning after my arrival the proprietor of the house asked for my passport; when it returned it bore the visa of the chief of police. there is a regulation throughout russia that every hotel keeper or other householder shall register his patrons with the police. by this means the authorities can trace the movements of '_suspects_' and prevent unlicensed travel. in siberia the plan is particularly valuable in keeping exiles on the spots assigned them. at st. petersburg and moscow the police keep a directory and hold it open to the public. when i reached the capital and wished to find some friends who arrived a few days before me, i obtained their address from this directory. those who sought my whereabouts found me in the same way. the weather was steadily cold--about zero fahrenheit--and was called mild for the season by the residents of irkutsk. i brought from new york a heavy overcoat that braved the storms of broadway the winter before my departure. my russian friends pronounced it _nechevo_ (nothing,) and advised me to procure a '_shooba,_' or cloak lined with fur. the shooba reaches nearly to one's feet, and is better adapted to riding than walking. it can be lined according to the means and liberality of the wearer. sable is most expensive, and sheepskin the least. both accomplish the same end, as they contain about equal quantities of heat. the streets of irkutsk are of good width and generally intersect at right angles. most of the buildings are of wood, and usually large and well built. the best houses are of stone, or of brick covered with plaster to resemble stone. very few dwellings are entered directly from the street, the outer doors opening into yards according to the russian custom. to visit a person you pass into an enclosure through a strong gateway, generally open by day but closed at night. a '_dvornik_' (doorkeeper) has the control of this gate, and is responsible for everything within it. storehouses and all other buildings of the establishment open upon the enclosure, and frequently two or more houses have one gate in common. the stores or magazines are numerous, and well supplied with european goods. some of the stocks are very large, and must require heavy capital or excellent credit to manage them. tailors and milliners are abundant, and bring their modes from paris. occasionally they paint their signs in french, and display the latest novelties from the center of fashion. bakers are numerous and well patronized. '_frantsooski kleb_,' (french bread,) which is simply white bread made into rolls, is popular and largely sold in irkutsk. one of my daily exercises in russian was to spell the signs upon the stores. in riding i could rarely get more than half through a word before i was whisked out of sight. i never before knew how convenient are symbolic signs to a man who cannot read. a picture of a hat, a glove, or a loaf of bread was far more expressive to my eye than the word _shapka_, _perchatki_, or _kleb_, printed in russian letters. the russians smoke a great deal of tobacco in paper cigarettes or '_papiros_.' everywhere east of lake baikal the papiros of irkutsk is in demand, and the manufacture there is quite extensive. in irkutsk and to the westward the brand of moscow is preferred. the consumption of tobacco in this form throughout the empire must be something enormous. i have known a party of half a dozen persons to smoke a hundred cigarettes in an afternoon and evening. many ladies indulge in smoking, but the practice is not universal. i do not remember any unmarried lady addicted to it. irkutsk was founded in , and has at present a population of twenty-eight or thirty thousand. about four thousand gold miners spend the winter and their money in the city. geographically it is in latitude ° ' north, and longitude ° ' east from greenwich. little wind blows there, and storms are less frequent than at moscow or st. petersburg. the snows are not abundant, the quantity that falls being smaller than in boston and very much less than in montreal or quebec. in summer or winter the panorama of irkutsk and its surroundings is one of great beauty. [illustration: view in irkutsk.] there are twenty or more churches, of which nearly all are large and finely placed. several of them were planned and constructed by two swedish engineer officers captured at pultawa and exiled to siberia. they are excellent monuments of architectural skill, and would be ornamental to any european city. the angara at irkutsk is about six hundred yards wide, and flows with a current of six miles an hour. it varies in height not more than ten or twelve inches during the entire year. it does not freeze until the middle of january, and opens early in may. there are two swinging ferries for crossing the river. a stout cable is anchored in mid-stream, and the ferry-boat attached to its unanchored end. the slack of the cable is buoyed by several small boats, over which it passes at regular intervals. the ferry swings like a horizontal pendulum, and is propelled by turning its sides at an angle against the current. i crossed on this ferry in four minutes from bank to bank. there are many public carriages in the streets, to be hired at thirty copecks the hour; but the drivers, like their profession everywhere, are inclined to overcharge. every one who thinks he can afford it, keeps a team of his own, the horses being generally of european stock. a few horses have been brought from st. petersburg; the journey occupies a full year, and the animals, when safely arrived, are very costly. private turnouts are neat and showy, and on a fine afternoon the principal drives of the city are quite gay. general korsackoff has a light wagon from new york for his personal driving in summer. i found here a curious regulation. sleighs are prohibited by municipal law from carrying bells in the limits of the city. reason: in a great deal of noise pedestrians might be run over. in american cities the law requires bells to be worn. reason: unless there is a noise pedestrians might be run over. "you pays your money and you takes your choice." cossack policemen watch the town during the day, and at night there are mounted and foot patrols carrying muskets with fixed bayonets. every block and sometimes every house has its private watchman, and at regular intervals during the night you may hear these guardians thumping their long staves on the pavement to assure themselves and others that they are awake. the fire department belongs to the police, and its apparatus consists of hand engines, water carts, and hook and ladder wagons. there are several watch towers, from which a semaphore telegraph signals the existence of fire. an electric apparatus was being arranged during my stay. during my visit there was an alarm of fire, and i embraced the opportunity to see how the russians 'run with the machine.' when i reached the street the engines and water carts were dashing in the direction of the fire. the water carts were simply large casks mounted horizontally on four wheels; a square hole in the top served to admit a bucket or a suction hose. those carts bring water from the nearest point of supply, which may be the river or an artificial reservoir, according to the locality of the fire. engines and carts are drawn by horses, which appear well selected for strength and activity. all the firemen wore brass helmets. the burning house was small and quite disengaged from others, and as there was no wind there was no danger of a serious conflagration. the chief of police directed the movements of his men. the latter worked their engines vigorously, but though the carts kept in active motion the supply of water was not equal to the demand. for some time it seemed doubtful which would triumph, the flames or the police. fortune favored the brave. the building was saved, though in a condition of incipient charcoalism. the chief of police wore his full uniform and decorations as the law requires of him when on duty. during the affair he was thoroughly spattered with water and covered with dirt and cinders. when he emerged he presented an appearance somewhat like that of a butterfly after passing through a sausage machine. a detachment of soldiers came to the spot but did not form a cordon around it. every spectator went as near the fire as he thought prudent, but was careful not to get in the way. two or three thousand officers, soldiers, merchants, exiles, moujiks, women, boys, and beggars gathered in the street to look at the display. the russian fire engines and water carts with their complement of men, and each drawn by three horses abreast, present a picturesque appearance as they dash through the streets. the engines at irkutsk are low-powered squirts, worked by hand, less effective than the hand engines used in america twenty or thirty years ago, and far behind our steamers of the present day. in moscow and st. petersburg the fire department has been greatly improved during the past ten years, and is now quite efficient. the markets of irkutsk are well supplied with necessaries of life. beef is abundant and good, at an average retail price of seven copecks a pound. fish and game are plentiful, and sell at low figures. the _rebchik_, or wood-hen, is found throughout siberia, and is much cheaper in the market than any kind of domestic fowl. pork, veal, and mutton are no more expensive than beef, and all vegetables of the country are at corresponding rates. in fact if one will eschew european luxuries he can live very cheaply at irkutsk. everything that comes from beyond the urals is expensive, on account of the long land carriage. champagne costs five or six roubles a bottle, and a great quantity of it is drank. sherry is from two to seven roubles according to quality, and the same is the case with white and red wines. the lowest price of sugar is thirty copecks the pound, and it is oftener forty-five or fifty. porter and ale cost two or three roubles a bottle, and none but the best english brands are drank. the wines are almost invariably excellent, and any merchant selling even a few cases of bad wine would very likely lose his trade. clothes and all articles of personal wear cost about as much as in st. louis or new orleans. labor is neither abundant nor scarce. a good man-servant receives ten to fifteen roubles a month with board. wood comes in soudnas from the shores of lake baikal and is very cheap. these vessels descend the river by the force of the current, but in going against it are towed by horses. the principal market place is surrounded with shops where a varied and miscellaneous lot of merchandise is sold. i found ready-made clothing, crockery, boots, whisky, hats, furniture, flour, tobacco, and so on through a long list of saleable and unsaleable articles. how such a mass could find customers was a puzzle. nearly all the shops are small and plain, and there are many stalls or stands which require but a small capital to manage. a great deal of haggling takes place in transactions at these little establishments, and i occasionally witnessed some amusing scenes. the best time to view the market is on sunday morning, when the largest crowd is gathered. my first visit was made one sunday when the thermometer stood at - ° fahrenheit. the market houses and the open square were full of people, and the square abounded in horses and sleds from the country. a great deal of traffic was conducted on these sleds or upon the solid snow-packed earth. the crowd comprised men, women, and children of all ages and all conditions in life. peasants from the country and laborers from the city, officers, tradesmen, heads of families, and families without heads, busy men, and idlers, were mingled as at a popular gathering in city hall park. everybody was in warm garments, the lower classes wearing coats and pelisses of sheepskin, while the others were in furs more or less expensive. occasionally a drunken man was visible, but there were no indications of a tendency to fight. the intoxicated american, eight times out of ten, endeavors to quarrel with somebody, but our muscovite neighbor is of a different temperament. when drunk he falls to caressing and gives kisses in place of blows. [illustration: a cold attachment.] the most novel sight that day in the market at irkutsk was the embrace of two drunken peasants. they kissed each other so tenderly and so long that the intense cold congealed their breath and froze their beards together. i left them as they were endeavoring to arrange a separation. a few beggars circulated in the crowd and gathered here and there a copeck. the frost whitened the beards of the men and reddened the cheeks of the women. where hands were bared to the breeze they were of a corned-beefy hue, and there were many persons stamping on the ground or swinging their arms to keep up a circulation. the little horses, standing, were white with frost, but none of them covered with blankets. the siberian horses are not blanketed in winter, but i was told they did not suffer from cold. their coats are thick and warm and frequently appear more like fur than hair. everything that could be frozen had succumbed to the frost. there were frozen chickens, partridges, and other game, thrown in heaps like bricks or stove wood. beef, pork, and mutton, were alike solid, and some of the vendors had placed their animals in fantastic positions before freezing them. in one place i saw a calf standing as if ready to walk away. his skin remained, and at first sight i thought him alive, but was undeceived when a man overturned the unresisting beast. frozen fish were piled carelessly in various places, and milk was offered for sale in cakes or bricks. a stick or string was generally frozen into a corner of the mass to facilitate carrying. one could swing a quart of milk at his side or wrap it in his kerchief at discretion. there were many peripatetic dealers in cakes and tea, the latter carrying small kettles of the hot beverage, which they served in tumblers. occasionally there was a man with a whole litter of sucking pigs frozen solid and slung over his shoulder or festooned into a necklace. the diminutive size of these pigs awakened reflections upon the brevity of swinish life. chapter xxxv. custom is the same at irkutsk as in all fashionable society of the empire. visits of ceremony are made in full dress-uniform for an officer and evening costume for a civilian. ceremonious calls are pretty short, depending of course upon the position and intimacy of the parties. the russians are very punctilious in making and receiving visits. so many circumstances are to be considered that i was always in dread of making a mistake of etiquette somewhere. nearly all my acquaintances in irkutsk spoke french or english, though comparatively few conversed with me in the latter tongue. the facility with which the russians acquire language has been often remarked. almost all russians who possess any education, are familiar with at least one language beside their own. very often i found a person conversant with two foreign languages, and it was no unusual thing to find one speaking three. i knew a young officer at irkutsk who spoke german, french, english, and swedish, and had a very fair smattering of chinese, manjour, and japanese. a young lady there conversed well and charmingly in english, french, and german and knew something of italian. it was more the exception than the rule that i met an officer with whom i could not converse in french. french is the society language of the russian capital, and one of the first requisites in education. children are instructed almost from infancy. governesses are generally french or english, and conversation with their charges is rarely conducted in russian. tutors are generally germans familiar with french. there is no other country in the world where those who can afford it are so attentive to the education of their children. this attention added to the peculiar temperament of the russians makes them the best linguists in the world. an english gentleman and lady, the latter speaking russian fluently, lived in siberia several years. during their sojourn a son was born to them. it was a long time before he began talking, so long in fact, that his parents feared he would be dumb. when he commenced he was very soon fluent in both english and russian. his long hesitation was doubtless caused by the confusion of two languages. [illustration: queen of greece.] the present emperor is an accomplished linguist, but no exception in this particular to the imperial family in general. the queen of greece, a niece of the emperor of russia, is said to be very prompt to learn a new language whenever it comes in her way, and when she was selected for that royal position she conquered the greek language in a very short time. french is the leading foreign language among the russians, and the second rank is held by the german. of late years english has become very popular, and is being rapidly acquired. the present _entente cordiale_ between russia and the united states is exerting an influence for the increased study of our language. why should we not return the compliment and bestow a little attention upon the slavonic tongue? most persons in society at irkutsk were from european russia or had spent some time in moscow at st. petersburg. of the native born siberians there were few who had not made a journey beyond the ural mountains. among the officials, st. petersburg was usually the authority in the matter of life and habit, while the civilians turned their eyes toward moscow. society in irkutsk was not less polished than in the capitals, and it possessed the advantage of being somewhat more open and less rigid than under the shadow of the imperial palace. etiquette is etiquette in any part of the empire, and its forms must everywhere be observed. but after the social forms were complied, with there was less stiffness than in european russia. some travelers declare that they found siberian society more polished than that of old russia. on this point i cannot speak personally, as my stay in the western part of the empire was too brief to afford much insight into its life. there may be some truth in the statement. siberia has received a great many individuals of high culture in the persons of its political exiles. men of liberal education, active intellects, and refined manners have been in large proportion among the banished poles, and the exiles of included many of russia's ablest minds. the influence of these exiles upon the intelligence, habits, and manners of the siberians, has left an indelible mark. as a new civilization is more plastic than an old one, so the society of northern asia may have become more polished than that of ancient russia. i could learn of only six of my countrymen who had been at irkutsk before me. of these all but two passed through the city with little delay, and were seen by very few persons. i happened to reach siberia when our iron-clad fleet was at cronstadt, and its officers were being feasted at st. petersburg and elsewhere. the siberians regretted that mr. fox and his companions could not visit them, and experience their hospitality. so they determined to expend their enthusiasm on the first american that appeared, and rather unexpectedly i became the recipient of the will of the siberians toward the united states. two days after my arrival i was visited by mr. hamenof, one of the wealthiest merchants of irkutsk. as he spoke only russian, he was accompanied by my late fellow-traveler who came to interpret between us, and open the conversation with-- "mr. hamenof presents his compliments, and wishes you to dine with him day after to-morrow." i accepted the invitation, and the merchant departed. maack informed me that the dinner would be a ceremonious one, attended by the governor general and leading officials. about forty persons were present, and seated according to rank. the tables were set on three sides of a square apartment, the post of honor being in the central position facing the middle of the room. the dinner was served in the french manner, and but for the language and uniforms around me, and a few articles in the bill of fare, i could have thought myself in a private parlor of the _trois freres_ or the _cafe anglais_. madame ditmar, the wife of the governor of the trans-baikal, was the only lady present. when the champagne appeared, mr. hamenof proposed "the united states of america," and prefaced his toast with a little speech to his russian guests. i proposed the health of the emperor, and then the toasts became irregular and applied to the governor general, the master of the house, the ladies of siberia, the russo-american telegraph, and various other persons, objects, and enterprises. from the dinner table we adjourned to the parlors where tea and coffee were brought, and most of the guests were very soon busy at the card tables. on reaching my room late at night, i found a russian document awaiting me, and with effort and a dictionary, i translated it into an invitation to an official dinner with general korsackoff. five minutes before the appointed hour i accompanied a friend to the governor general's house. as we entered, servants in military garb took our shoobas, and we were ushered into a large parlor. general korsackoff and many of the invited guests were assembled in the parlor, and within two minutes the entire party had gathered. as the clock struck five the doors were thrown open, and the general led the way to the dining hall. i found at irkutsk a great precision respecting appointments. when dinners were to come off at a fixed hour all the guests assembled from three to ten minutes before the time specified. i never knew any one to come late, and all were equally careful not to come early. no one could be more punctual than general korsackoff, and his example was no doubt carefully watched and followed. it is a rule throughout official circles in russia, if i am correctly informed, that tardiness implies disrespect. americans might take a few lessons of the russians on the subject of punctuality. [illustration: emperor of russia.] the table was liberally decorated with flowers and plants, and the whole surroundings were calculated to make one forget that he was in cold and desolate siberia. a band of music was stationed in the adjoining parlor, and furnished us with russian and american airs. at the first toast general korsackoff made a speech in russian, recounting the amity existing between the two nations and the visit of our special embassy to congratulate the emperor on his escape from assassination. he thought the siberians felt no less grateful at this mark of sympathy than did the people of european russia, and closed by proposing, "the president, congress, and people of the united states." the toast was received with enthusiasm, the band playing yankee doodle as an accompaniment to the cheering. the speech was translated to me by captain linden, the private secretary of the governor general, who spoke french and english fluently. etiquette required me to follow with a toast to the emperor in my little speech. i spoke slowly to facilitate the hearing of those who understood english. the captain then translated it into russian. general korsackoff spoke about four minutes, and i think my response was of the same length. both speeches were considered quite elaborate by the siberians, and one officer declared it was the longest dinner-table address the general ever made. two days later at another dinner i asked a friend to translate my remarks when i came to speak. he asked how long i proposed talking. "about three minutes," was my reply. "oh," said he, "you had better make it one or two minutes. you made a long speech at the governor general's, and when you dine with a person of less importance he will not expect you to speak as much." i had not taken this view of the matter, as the american custom tends to brevity on the ascending rather than on the descending scale. ten years earlier major collins dined with general mouravieff in the same hall where i was entertained. after dinner i heard a story at the expense of my enterprising predecessor. it is well known that the major is quite a speech maker at home, and when he is awakened on a favorite subject he has no lack either of ideas or words. on the occasion just mentioned, general mouravieff gave the toast, "russia and america," major collins rose to reply and after speaking six or eight minutes came to a pause. captain martinoff, who understood english, was seated near the major. as the latter stopped, general mouravieff turned to the captain and asked: "will you be kind enough to translate what has been said?" "_blagodariete_," (he thanks you) said the captain. the major proceeded six or eight minutes more and paused again. "translate," was the renewed command of the governor general. "he thanks you very much." again another period of speech and the address was finished. "translate if you please," the general suggested once more to his aid. "he thanks you very much indeed." the major was puzzled, and turning to captain martinoff remarked that the russian language must be very comprehensive when a speech of twenty minutes could be translated in three or four words. on days when i was disengaged i dined at the _amoorski gastinitza_ or amoor hotel. the hotel comprised two buildings, one containing the rooms of lodgers, and the other devoted to restaurant, dining and billiard rooms. in the dining department there were several rooms, a large one for a restaurant and table d'hote, and the rest for private parties. considering the general character of russian hotels the one at irkutsk was quite creditable. in its management, cookery, and service it would compare favorably with the establishments on courtlandt street or park row. in the billiard room there were two tables on which i sometimes complied with a request to 'show the american game.' the tables had six pockets each, and as the cues had no leather tips, there was an unpleasant clicking whenever they wore used. the russian game of billiards is played with five balls, and the science consists in pocketing the balls. the carom does not count. the first time i dined at the hotel the two candles burned dimly, and we called for a third. when it was brought the servant drew a small table near us and placed the extra candle upon it. i asked the reason for his doing so, and it was thus explained. there is a superstition in russia that if three lighted candles are placed upon a table some one in the room will die within a year. everybody endeavors to avoid such a calamity. if you have two candles and order another, the servant will place the third on a side table or he will bring a fourth and make your number an even one. there was formerly a theatre at irkutsk, but it was burned a few years ago, and has not been rebuilt. during my stay there was a musical concert in the large hall of the officers' club, and a theatrical display was prepared but not concluded before my departure. at the concert a young officer, captain lowbry, executed on the piano several pieces of his own composition, and was heartily applauded by the listeners. once a week there was a social party at the club house where dancing, cards, billiards, and small talk continued till after midnight. nearly every one in society kept 'open house' daily. in most of the families where i was acquainted tea was taken at p.m., and any friend could call at that hour without ceremony. the samovar was placed on the table, and one of the ladies presided over the tea. those who wished it could sit at table, but there was no formal spreading of the cloth. tea was handed about the room and each one took it at his liking. i have seen in these social circles a most pleasing irregularity in tea drinking. some were seated on sofas and chairs, holding cups and saucers in their hands or resting them upon tables; other stood in groups of two, three, or more; others were at cards, and sipped their tea at intervals of the games; and a few were gathered around the hostess at the samovar. the time passed in whatever amusements were attainable. there were cards for some and conversation for others, with piano music, little dances and general sports of considerable variety. those evenings at irkutsk were delightful, and i shall always remember them with pleasure. what with visits, dinners, balls, suppers, social evenings, and sleigh rides, i had little time to myself, and though i economized every minute i did not succeed in finishing my letters and journal until the very day before my departure. the evening parties lasted pretty late. they generally closed with a supper toward the wee small hours, and the good nights were not spoken until about two in the morning. there is a peculiarity about a russian party,--whether a quiet social assemblage or a stately ball,--that the whole house is thrown open. in america guests are confined to the parlors and the dancing and supper apartments, from the time they leave the cloaking rooms till they prepare for departure. in russia they can wander pretty nearly where they please, literally "up stairs, down stairs, or in my lady's chamber." of course all the rooms are prepared for visitors, but i used at first to feel a shrinking sensation when i sauntered into the private study and work room of my official host, or found myself among the scent bottles and other toilet treasures of a lady acquaintance. this literal keeping of 'open house' materially assists to break the stiffness of an assemblage though it can hardly be entirely convenient to the hosts. immediately after my entertainment with general korsackoff, the mayor of irkutsk invited me to an official dinner at his house. this was followed a few days later by a similar courtesy on the part of mr. trepaznikoff, the son of a wealthy merchant who died a few years ago. private dinners followed in rapid succession until i was qualified to speak with practical knowledge of the irkutsk cuisine. no stranger in a strange land was ever more kindly taken in, and no hospitality was ever bestowed with less ostentation. i can join in the general testimony of travelers that the russians excel in the ability to entertain visitors. mr. kartesheftsoff, the mayor, or _golovah_ as he is called, resided in a large house that formerly belonged to prince trubetskoi, one of the exiles of . my host was an extensive owner of gold mines, and had been very successful in working them. he was greatly interested in the means employed in california for separating gold from earth, and especially in the 'hydraulic' process. on my first visit madame kartesheftsoff spoke very little french. she must have submitted her studies to a thorough revision as i found her a week later able to conduct a conversation with ease. there were other instances of a vigorous overhauling of disused french and english that furnished additional proof of the russian adaptability to foreign tongues. to reach the golovah's house we crossed, the ouska-kofka, a small river running through the northern part of irkutsk; it had been recently frozen, and several rosy-cheeked boys were skating on the ice. the view from the bridge is quite picturesque, and the little valley forms a favorite resort in certain seasons of the year. the water of the ouska-kofka is said to be denser than that of the angara, and on that account is preferred for culinary purposes. [illustration: tail piece--twin bottles] chapter xxxvi. i have made occasional mention of the exiles of , and it may be well to explain how they went to siberia. in the early part of the present century russia was not altogether happy. the emperor paul, called to the throne by the death of catherine ii., did not display marked ability, but, 'on the contrary, quite the reverse.' what his mother had done for the improvement of the country he was inclined to undo. under his reign great numbers were banished to siberia upon absurd charges or mere caprice. the emperor issued manifestoes of a whimsical character, one of which was directed against round hats, and another against shoe strings. the glaring colors now used upon bridges, distance posts, watch boxes, and other imperial property, were of his selection, and so numerous were his eccentricities that he was declared of unsound mind. in march, , he was smothered in his palace, which he had just completed. it is said that within an hour after the fact of his death was known round hats appeared on the street in great numbers. alexander i. endeavored to repair some of the evils of his father's reign. he recalled many exiles from siberia, suppressed the secret inquisition, and restored many rights of which the people had been deprived. his greatest abilities were displayed during the wars with france. after the general peace he devoted himself to inspecting and developing the resources of the country, and was the first, and thus far the only, emperor of russia to cross the ural mountains and visit the mines of that region. his death occurred during a tour through the southern provinces of the empire. some of his reforms were based upon the principles of other european governments, which he endeavored to study. on his return from england he told his council that the best thing he saw there was the opposition in parliament. he thought it a part of the government machinery, and regretted it could not be introduced in russia. constantine, the eldest brother of alexander i., had relinquished his right to the crown, thus breaking the regular succession. from the time of paul a revolutionary party had existed, and once at least it plotted the assassination of alexander. there was an interregnum of three weeks between the death of alexander and the assumption of power by his second brother, nicholas. the change of succession strengthened the revolutionists, and they employed the interregnum to organize a conspiracy for seizing the government. the conspiracy was wide spread, and included many of the ablest men of the day. the army was seriously implicated. the revolutionists desired a constitutional government, and their rallying cry of "constitutia!" was explained to the soldiers as the name of constantine's wife. the real design of the movement was not confided to the rank and file, who supposed they were fighting for constantine and the regular succession of the throne. nicholas learned of the conspiracy the day before his ascension; the imperial guard of the palace was in the plot, and expected to seize the emperor's person. the guard was removed during the night and a battalion from finland substituted. it is said that on receiving intelligence of the assembling of the insurgents, the emperor called his wife to the chapel of the palace, where he spent a few moments in prayer. then taking his son, the present emperor, he led him to the soldiers of the new guard, confided him to their protection, and departed for st. isaac's square to suppress the revolt. the soldiers kept the boy until the emperor's return, and would not even surrender him to his tutor. the plot was so wide-spread that the conspirators had good promise of success, but whole regiments backed out at the last moment and left only a forlorn hope to begin the struggle. nicholas rode with his officers to st. isaac's square, and twice commanded the assembled insurgents to surrender. they refused, and were then saluted with "the last argument of kings." a storm of grape shot, followed by a charge of cavalry, put in flight all who were not killed, and ended the insurrection. a long and searching investigation followed, disclosing all the ramifications of the plot. the conspirators declared they were led to what they undertook by the unfortunate condition of the country and the hope of improving it. nicholas, concealed behind a screen, heard most of the testimony and confessions, and learned therefrom a wholesome lesson. the end of the affair was the execution of five principal conspirators and the banishment of many others to siberia. the five that suffered capital punishment were hanged in front of the admiralty buildings in st. petersburg. one rope was broken, and the victim, falling to the ground, suffered such agony that the officer in charge of the execution sent to the emperor asking what to do. "take a new rope and finish your duty," was the unpitying answer of nicholas. the accession of nicholas and the attempted revolt occurred on the th december, (o.s.) . within six months from that date the most of the conspirators reached siberia. they were sent to different districts, some to labor in the mines for specified periods, and others to become colonists. they included some of the ablest men in russia, and were nearly all young and enterprising. many of them were married, and were followed into exile by their wives, though the latter were only permitted to go to siberia on condition of never returning. each of the exiles was deprived of all civil or political rights, and declared legally dead. his property was confiscated to the crown, and his wife considered a widow and could marry again if she chose. to the credit of the russian women, not one availed herself of this privilege. i was told that nearly every married exile's family followed him, and some of the unmarried ones were followed by their sisters and mothers. i have previously spoken of the effect of the unfortunates of the th december upon the society and manners of siberia. these men enjoyed good social positions, and their political faults did not prevent their becoming well received. their sentence to labor in the mines was not rigorously enforced, and lasted but two or three years at farthest. they were subsequently employed at indoor work, and, as time wore on and passion subsided, were allowed to select residences in villages. very soon they were permitted to go to the larger towns, and once there, those whose wives possessed property in their own right built themselves elegant houses and took the position to which their abilities entitled them. [illustration: home of two exiles.] general korsackoff told me that when he first went to serve in siberia there was a ball one evening at the governor general's. noticing one man who danced the mazurka splendidly, he whispered to general mouravieff and asked his name. "that," said mouravieff, "is a revolutionist of . he is one of the best men of society in irkutsk." after their first few years of exile, the decembrists had little to complain of except the prohibition to return to europe. to men whose youth was passed in brilliant society and amid the gayeties of the capital, this life in siberia was no doubt irksome. year after year went by, and on the twenty-fifth anniversary of their banishment they looked for pardon. little else was talked of among them for some weeks, but they were doomed to disappointment. nicholas had no forgiving disposition, and those who plotted his overthrow were little likely to obtain favor, even though a quarter of a century had elapsed since their crime. but the death of nicholas and the coronation of alexander ii. wrought a change for the exiles. nicholas began his reign with an act of severity; alexander followed his ascension with one of clemency. by imperial ukase he pardoned the exiles of , restored them to their civil and political rights, and permitted their return to europe. as the fathers were legally dead when sent into exile, the children born to them in siberia were illegitimate in the eye of the law and could not even bear their own family name. properly they belonged to the government, and inherited their father's exile in not being permitted to go to europe. the ukase removed all these disabilities and gave the children full authority to succeed to their father's hereditary titles and social and political rights. these exiles lived in different parts of siberia, but chiefly in the governments of irkutsk and yeneseisk. but the thirty years of the reign of nicholas were not uneventful. death removed some of the unfortunates. others had dwelt so long in siberia that they did not wish to return to a society where they would be strangers. some who were unmarried at the time of their exile had acquired families in siberia, and thus fastened themselves to the country. not more than half of those living at the time of alexander's coronation availed themselves of his permission to return to russia. the princes trubetskoi and volbonskoi hesitated for some time, but finally concluded to return. both died in europe quite recently. their departure was regretted by many persons in irkutsk, as their absence was quite a loss to society. i heard some curious reminiscences concerning the prince volbonskoi. it was said that his wife and children, with the servants, were the occupants of the large and elegant house, the prince living in a small building in the court yard. he had a farm near the town and sold the various crops to his wife. both the princes paid great attention to educating their children and fitting them for ultimate social position in europe. while in irkutsk i saw one of the decembrists who had grown quite wealthy as a wine merchant. another of these exiles was mentioned, but i did not meet him. another resided at selenginsk, a third near verkne udinsk, and a fourth near lake baikal. there are several at other points, but i believe the whole number of the decembrists now in siberia is less than a dozen. forty-two years have brought them to the brink of the grave, and very soon the active spirits of that unhappy revolt will have passed away. the other political exiles in siberia are almost entirely poles. every insurrection in poland adds to the population of asiatic russia, and accomplishes very little else. the revolt of was prolific in this particular, and so was that of . revolutions in poland have been utterly hopeless of success since the downfall and division of the kingdom, but the poles remain undaunted. i do not propose entering into a discussion of the polish question, as it would occupy too much space and be foreign to the object of my book; but i will briefly touch a few points. the russians and poles were not inclined to amiability when both had separate governments. europe has never been converted to republican principles, and however much the western powers may sympathize with poland, they would be unwilling to adopt for themselves the policy they desire for russia. england holds india and ireland, regardless of the will of indians and irish. france has her african territory which did not ask to be taken under the tri-color, and we are all aware of the relations once held by her emperor toward mexico. it is much easier to look for generosity and forbearance in others than in ourselves. those who are disposed to shed tears over the fate of poland, should remember that the unhappy country has only suffered the fortune of war. when russia and poland began to measure swords the latter was the more powerful, and for a time overran a goodly portion of the muscovite soil. we all know there has been a partition of poland, but are we equally aware that the russia of rurik and ivan iv. was partitioned in by the swedes (at novgorod) and the poles (at moscow?) in the poles held moscow. the russians rose against them in that year, just as the poles have since risen against the russians, but with a different result. the polish exiles of and previous years were pardoned by the same ukase that liberated the russian exiles of . just before the insurrection of there were not many poles in siberia, except those who remained of their own free will. the last insurrection caused a fresh deportation, twenty-four thousand being banished beyond the ural mountains. ten thousand of these were sent to eastern siberia, the balance being distributed in the governments west of the yenesei. the decree of june, , allowed many of these prisoners to return to poland. the government has always endeavored to scatter the exiles and prevent their congregating in such numbers as to cause inconvenience. the prime object of deportation to siberia is to people the country and develop its natural wealth. though russia occupies nearly an eighth of the land on the face of the globe, her population numbers but about seventy millions. it is her policy to people her territory, and she bends her energies to this end. she does not allow the emigration of her subjects to any appreciable extent, and she punishes but few crimes with death. notwithstanding her general tolerance on religious matters, she punishes with severity a certain sect that discourages propagation. there are other facts i might mention as illustrations were it not for the fastidiousness of the present age. siberia is much more in need of population than european russia, and exiles are sent thither to become inhabitants. so far as the matter of sentence goes there is little difference between political and criminal exiles. the sentence is in accordance with the offence to be punished, and may be light or severe. some exiles are simply banished to siberia, and can do almost anything except go away. they may travel as they choose, engage in business, and even hold official position. it is no bar to their progress that they emigrated involuntarily. if they forget their evil ways and are good citizens, others will be equally oblivious and encourage them. they have special inducements to become colonists and till the soil or develop its mineral wealth. with honesty and industry they have at least a fair chance in life. some exiles are confined to certain districts, governments, towns, or villages, and must report at stated intervals to the chief of police. these intervals are not the same in all cases, but vary from one day to a month, or even more. some are not allowed to go beyond specified limits without express permission from the authorities, while others may absent themselves as they choose during the intervals of reporting to the police. some can engage in whatever business they find advantageous, while others are prohibited certain employments but not restricted as to others. if a man is sentenced to become a colonist, the government gives him a house or means to build it, a plot of ground, and the necessary tools. he is not allowed to be any thing else than a colonist. criminals of a certain grade cannot engage in commerce, and the same restriction applies to 'politiques.' no criminal can be a teacher, either in a public or private school, and no politique can teach in a public school. while i was in siberia an order was issued prohibiting the latter class engaging in any kind of educational work except music, drawing, and painting. many criminal and political offenders are 'drafted in the army' in much the same manner that our prisons sent their able-bodied men into military service during our late war. their terms of enlistment are various, but generally not less than fifteen years. the men receive the pay and rations of soldiers, and have the possibility of promotion before them. they are sent to regiments stationed at distant posts in order to diminish the chances of desertion. the siberian and caucasian regiments receive the greater portion of these recruits. many members of the peculiar religious sect mentioned elsewhere are sent to the caucasian frontier. they are said to be very tractable and obedient, but not reliable for aggressive military operations. an exile may receive from his friends money to an amount not exceeding twenty-five roubles a month. if his wife has property of her own she may enjoy a separate income. those confined in prisons or kept at labor may receive money to the same extent, but it must pass through the hands of the officials. of course the occupants of prisons are fed by government, and so are those under sentence of hard labor. the men restricted to villages and debarred from profitable employment receive monthly allowances in money and flour, barely enough for their subsistence. there are complaints that dishonest officials steal a part of these allowances, but the practice is not as frequent as formerly. a prisoner's comfort in any part of the world depends in a great measure upon the character of the officer in charge of him. siberia offers no exception to this rule. formerly the polish exiles enjoyed more social freedom than at present. the cause of the change was thus explained to me: five or six years ago a polish noble who had been exiled lived at irkutsk and enjoyed the friendship of several officers. the amoor had been recently opened, and this man asked and obtained the privilege of visiting it, giving his parole not to leave siberia. at nicolayevsk he embraced the opportunity to escape, and advised others to do the same. this breach of confidence led to greater circumspection, and the distrust was increased by the conduct of other exiles. since that time the poles have been under greater restraint. many books on russia contain interesting stories of the brutality toward exiles, both on the road and after they have reached their destination. undoubtedly there have been instances of cruelty, just as in every country in christendom, but i do not believe the russians are worse in this respect than other people. i saw a great many exiles during my journey through siberia. frequently when on the winter road i met convoys of them, and never observed any evidence of needless severity. five-sixths of the exiles i met on the road were in sleighs like those used by russian merchants when traveling. there were generally three persons in a sleigh, and i thought them comfortably clad. i could see no difference between them and their guards, except that the latter carried muskets and sabres. any women among them received special attention, particularly when they were young and pretty. i saw two old ladies who were handled tenderly by the soldiers and treated with apparent distinction. when exiles were on foot, their guards marched with them and the women of the party rode in sleighs. the object of deportation is to people siberia; if the government permitted cruelties that caused half of the exiles to die on the road, as some accounts aver, it would be inconsistent with its policy. as before mentioned, the ripe age to which most of the decembrists lived, is a proof that they were not subjected to physical torture. in the eyes of the government these men were the very worst offenders, and if they did not suffer hardships and cruelties it is not probable that all others would be generally ill-used. i do not for a moment suppose exile is either attractive or desirable, but, so far as i know, it does not possess the horrors attributed to it. the worst part of exile is to be sent to hard labor, but the unpleasant features of such punishment are not confined to siberia. plenty of testimony on this point can be obtained at sing sing and pentonville. it is unpleasant to leave one's home and become an involuntary emigrant to a far country. the siberian road is one i would never travel out of pure pleasure, and i can well understand that it must be many times disagreeable when one journeys unwillingly. but, once in siberia, the worldly circumstances of many exiles are better than they were at home. if a man can forget that he is deprived of liberty, and i presume this is the most difficult thing of all, he is not, under ordinary circumstances, very badly off in siberia. certainly many exiles choose to remain when their term of banishment is ended. a laboring man is better paid for his services and is more certain of employment than in european russia. he leads a more independent life and has better prospects of advancement than in the older civilization. many poles say they were drawn unwillingly into the acts that led to their exile, and if they return home they may be involved in like trouble again. in poland they are at the partial mercy of malcontents who have nothing to lose and can never remain at ease. in siberia there are no such disturbing influences. about ten thousand exiles are sent to siberia every year. except in times of political disturbance in poland or elsewhere, nearly all the exiles are offenders against society or property. the notion that they are generally 'politiques,' is very far from correct. as well might one suppose the majority of the convicts at sing sing were from the upper classes of new york. the regular stream of exiles is composed almost entirely of criminal offenders; occasional floods of revolutionists follow the attempts at independence. i made frequent inquiries concerning the condition of the exiles, and so far as i could learn they were generally well off. i say 'generally,' because i heard of some cases of poverty and hardship, and doubtless there were others that i never heard of. a large part of the siberian population is made up of exiles and their descendants. a gentleman frequently sent me his carriage during my stay at irkutsk. it was managed by an intelligent driver who pleased me with his skill and dash. one evening, when he was a little intoxicated, my friend and myself commented in french on his condition, and were a little surprised to find that he understood us. he was an exile from st. petersburg, where he had been coachman to a french merchant. the clerk of the hotel was an exile, and so was one of the waiters. _isvoshchiks_, or hackmen, counted many exiles in their ranks, and so did laborers of other professions. occasionally clerks in stores, market men, boot makers, and tailors ascribed their exile to some discrepancy between their conduct and the laws. i met a polish gentleman in charge of the museum of the geographical society of eastern siberia, and was told that the establishment rapidly improved in his hands. two physicians of irkutsk were 'unfortunates' from warsaw, and one of them had distanced all competitors in the extent and success of his practice. then there were makers of cigarettes, dealers in various commodities, and professors of divers arts. some of the educated siberians i met told me they had been taught almost entirely by exiles. before the abolition of serfdom a proprietor could send his human property into exile. he was not required to give any reason, the record accompanying the order of banishment stating only that the serf was exiled "by the will of his master." this privilege was open to enormous abuse, but happily the ukase of liberty has removed it. the design of the system was no doubt to enable proprietors to rid themselves of serfs who were idle, dissolute, or quarrelsome, but had not committed any act the law could touch. a proprietor exiling a serf was required to pay his traveling expenses of twenty-five roubles, and to furnish him an outfit of summer and winter clothing. a wife was allowed to follow her husband, with all their children not matured, and all their expenses were to be paid. the abuse of the system consisted in the power to banish a man who had committed no offence at all. the loss of services and the expense of exiling a serf may have been a slight guarantee against this, but if the proprietor were an unprincipled tyrant or a sensualist, (and he might be both,) there was no protection for his subjects. it has happened that the best man on an estate incurred the displeasure of his owner and went to siberia in consequence. exile is a severe punishment to the russian peasant, who clings with enduring tenacity to the place where his youthful days were passed. every serf exiled for a minor offense or at the will of his master was appointed on his arrival in siberia to live in a specified district. if he could produce a certificate of good behavior at the end of three years, he was authorized to clear and cultivate as much land as he wished. if single he could marry, but he was not compelled to do so. he was exempt from taxes for twelve years, and after that only paid a trifle. he had no master and could act for himself in all things except in returning to russia. he was under the disadvantage of having no legal existence, and though the land he worked was his own and no one could disturb him, he did not hold it under written title. the criminal who served at labor in the mines was placed, at the expiration of his sentence, in the same category as the exile for minor offences. both cultivated land in like manner and on equal terms. some became wealthy and were able to secure the privileges of citizenship. [illustration: tail piece--quarters] chapter xxxvii. the descendants of exiles are in much greater number than the exiles themselves. eastern siberia is mainly peopled by them, and western siberia very largely so. they are all free peasants and enjoy a condition far superior to that of the serf under the system prevalent before . many of them have become wealthy through gold mining, commerce, and agriculture, and occupy positions they never could have obtained had they lived in european russia. i know a merchant whose fortune is counted by millions, and who is famous through siberia for his enterprise and generosity. he is the son of an exiled serf and has risen by his own ability. since i left siberia i learn with pleasure that the emperor has honored him with a decoration. many of the prominent merchants and proprietary miners were mentioned to me as examples of the prosperity of the second and third generation from banished men. i was told particularly of a wealthy gold miner whose evening of life is cheered by an ample fortune and two well educated children. forty years ago his master capriciously sent him to siberia. the man found his banishment 'the best thing that could happen.' the system of serfdom never had any practical hold in siberia. there was but one siberian proprietor of serfs in existence at the time of the emancipation. this was mr. rodinkoff of krasnoyarsk, whose grandfather received a grant of serfs and a patent of nobility from the empress catherine. none of the family, with a single exception, ever attempted more than nominal exercise of authority over the peasants, and this one paid for his imprudence with his life. he attempted to put in force his full proprietary rights, and the result was his death by violence during a visit to one of his estates. the difference between the conditions of the russian and siberian peasantry was that between slavery and freedom. the owner of serfs had rarely any common interest with his people, and his chief business was to make the most out of his human property. serfdom was degrading to master and serf, just as slavery degraded owner and slave. the moujik bore the stamp of servility as the negro slave bore it, and it will take as much time to wear it away in the one as the other. centuries of oppression in russia could not fail to open a wide gulf between the nobility and those who obeyed them. thanks to alexander the work of filling this gulf has begun, but it will require many years and much toil to complete it. the comparative freedom enjoyed in siberia was not without visible result. the peasants were more prosperous than in russia, they lived in better houses and enjoyed more real comforts of life. the absence of masters and the liberty to act for themselves begat an air of independence in the peasant class that contrasted agreeably with the cringing servility of the serf. wealth was open to all who sought it, and the barriers between the different ranks of society were partially broken down. the peasants that acquired wealth began to cultivate refined tastes. they paid more attention to the education of their children than was shown by the same class in russia, and the desire for education rapidly increased. the emancipation of the serfs in russia was probably brought about by the marked superiority of the siberian population in prosperity and intelligence. in coming ages the russians will revere the name of alexander not less than that of peter the great. to the latter is justly due the credit of raising the nation from barbarism; the former has the immortal honor of removing the stain of serfdom. the difficulties in the way were great and the emperor had few supporters, but he steadily pursued his object and at length earned the eternal gratitude of his people. russia is yet in her developing stage. the shock of the change was severe and not unattended with danger, but the critical period is passed, and the nation has commenced a career of freedom. the serf has been awakened to a new life, and his education is just commencing. already there is increased prosperity in some parts of the empire, showing that the free man understands his new condition. the proprietors who were able to appreciate and prepare for the change have been positively benefited, while others who continued obstinate were ruined. on the whole the derangement by the transition has been less than many friends of the measure expected, and by no means equal to that prophesied by its opponents. but the grandest results in the nation's progress are yet to come, and it is from future generations that alexander will receive his warmest praise. the working of mines on government account has greatly diminished in the past few years, and the number of hard labor convicts in siberia more than equals the capacity of the mines. when the political exiles, after the revolution of , arrived at irkutsk, the mines were already filled with convicts. the 'politiques' sentenced to hard labor were employed in building; roads, most of them being sent to the southern end of lake baikal. in june, , seven hundred and twenty prisoners were sent to this labor, and divided into eight or ten parties to work on as many sections of the road. before the end of the month a revolt occurred. various accounts have been given and different motives assigned for it. i was told by several poles that the prisoners were half starved, and the little food they received was bad. hunger and a desire to escape were the motives to the insurrection. on the other hand the russians told me the prisoners were properly fed, and the revolt must be attributed entirely to the hope of escaping from siberia. i obtained from an officer, who sat on the court-martial which investigated the affair, the following particulars: on the th of june, (o.s.,) the working party at koultoukskoi, the western end of the road, disarmed its guard by a sudden and bloodless attack. the insurgents then moved eastward along the line of the road, and on their way overpowered successively the guards of the other parties. many of the prisoners refused to take part in the affair and remained at their work. a polish officer named sharamovitch assumed command of the insurgents, who directed their march toward posolsky. [illustration: tartar cavalry.] as soon as news of the affair reached irkutsk, the governor general ordered a battalion of soldiers by steamer to posolsky. on the th of june a fight occurred at the river bestriya. the insurgents were defeated with a loss of twenty-five or thirty men, while the force sent against them lost five men and one officer. the polish leader was among the killed. after the defeat the insurgents separated in small bands and fled into the mountains. they were pursued by tartar cavalry, who scoured the country thoroughly and retook all the fugitives. the insurrection caused much alarm at its outbreak, as it was supposed all prisoners in siberia were in the conspiracy. exaggerated reports were spread, and all possible precautions taken, but they proved unnecessary. the conspiracy extended no farther than the working parties on the baikal road. the prisoners were brought to irkutsk, where a court-martial investigated the affair. a russian court-martial does not differ materially from any other in the manner of its proceedings. it requires positive evidence for or against a person accused, and, like other courts, gives him the benefit of doubts. my informant told me that the court in this case listened to all evidence that had any possible bearing on the question. the sitting continued several weeks, and after much deliberation the court rendered a finding and sentence. in the finding the prisoners were divided into five grades, and their sentences accorded with the letter of the law. the first grade comprised seven persons, known to have been leaders in the revolt. these were sentenced to be shot. in the second grade there were a hundred and ninety-seven, who knew the design to revolt and joined in the insurrection. one-tenth of these were to suffer death, the choice being made by lot; the remainder were sentenced to twenty years labor. the third grade comprised a hundred and twenty-two, ignorant of the conspiracy before the revolt, but who joined the insurgents. these received an addition of two or three years to their original sentences to labor. the fourth grade included ninety-four men, who knew the design to revolt but refused to join the insurgents. these were sentenced "to remain under suspicion." in the fifth and last grade there were two hundred and sixty, who were ignorant of the conspiracy and remained at their posts. their innocence was fully established, and, of course, relieved them from all charge. it was found that the design of the insurgents was to escape into mongolia and make their way to pekin. this would have been next to impossible, for two reasons: the character of the country, and the treaty between china and russia. the region to be traversed from the siberian frontier toward pekin is the mongolian steppe or desert. the only food obtainable on the steppe is mutton from the flocks of the nomad inhabitants. these are principally along the road from kiachta, and even there are by no means numerous. the escaping exiles in avoiding the road to ensure safety would have run great risk of starvation. the treaty between china and russia requires that fugitives from one empire to the other shall be given up. had the exiles succeeded in crossing mongolia and reaching the populous parts of china, they would have been once more in captivity and returned to russian hands. the finding of the court-martial was submitted to general korsackoff for approval or revision. the general commuted the sentence of three men in the first grade to twenty years labor. those in the second grade sentenced to death were relieved from this punishment and placed on the same footing as their companions. in the third grade the original sentence (at the time of banishment) was increased by one or two years labor. other penalties were not changed. during my stay in irkutsk the four prisoners condemned to death suffered the extreme penalty, the execution occurring in the forest near the town. a firing party of forty-eight men was divided into four squads. according to the custom at all military executions one musket in each squad was charged with a blank cartridge. the four prisoners were shot simultaneously, and all died instantly. two of them were much dejected; the others met their deaths firmly and shouted "_vive la pologne_" as they heard the order to fire. i was told that the crowd of people, though large, was very quiet, and moved away in silence when the execution was over. very few officers and soldiers were present beyond those whose duty required them to witness or take part in the affair. one of the most remarkable escapes from siberia was that of rufin piotrowski, a polish emigrant who left paris in to return to his native country, with impossible plans and crude ideas for her relief. the end of his journey was kamimetz, in podolia, where he gave himself out as a frenchman, who had come to give private lessons in foreign languages, and received the usual permit from the authorities without exciting any suspicion. he was soon introduced into the best society; and the better to shield his connections, he chose the houses of russian employés. his security rested upon his not being supposed to understand the polish language; and, during the nine months that he remained, he obtained such command over himself, that the police had not the slightest suspicion of his being a pole. the warning voice came from st. petersburg, through the spies in paris. early one winter's morning he was roughly shaken out of slumber by the director of police, and carried before the governor of the province, who had come specially on this errand. his position was represented to him as one of the greatest danger, and he was recommended to make a full confession. this for many days he refused to do, until a large number of those who were his accomplices were brought before him; and their weary, anxious faces induced him to exclaim loudly, and in his native tongue--"yes, i am a pole, and have returned because i could not bear exile from my native land any longer. here i wished to live inoffensive and quiet, confiding my secret to a few countrymen; and i have nothing more to say." an immediate order was made out for the culprit's departure to kiev. according to the story he has published his sufferings were frightful, and were not lessened when they stopped at a hut, where some rusty chains were brought out, the rings of which were thrust over his ankles: they proved much too small, and the rust prevented the bars from turning in the sockets, so that the pain was insupportable. he was rudely carried and thrown into the carriage, and thus arrived in an almost insensible condition at the fortress of kiev. after many months' detention in this prison, being closely watched and badly treated, he was sentenced to hard labor in siberia for life, degraded from his rank as a noble, and ordered to make the journey in chains. as soon as this was read to him, he was taken to a kibitka, with three horses, irons were put on, and he was placed between two armed soldiers; the gates of the fortress were shut, and the road to siberia was before him. an employee came up to m. piotrowski, and timidly offered him a small packet, saying--"accept this from my saint." the convict not understanding, he added, "you are a pole, and do not know our customs. it is my fête-day, when it is above all a duty to assist the unfortunate. pray, accept it, then, in the name of my saint, after whom i am called." the packet contained bread, salt, and money. night and day the journey continued, with the utmost rapidity, for about a month, when, in the middle of the night, they stopped at the fortress of omsk, where he was placed for a few hours with a young officer who had committed some breach of discipline. they talked on incessantly until the morning, so great was the pleasure of meeting with an educated person. a map of siberia was in the room, which piotrowski examined with feverish interest. "ah!" said his companion, "are you meditating flight? pray, do not think of it: many of your fellow-countrymen have tried it, and never succeeded." at midday he was brought before prince gortchakoff, and the critical moment of his fate arrived: he might either be sent to some of the government factories in the neighborhood, or to the mines underground. an hour passed in cruel suspense while this was debated. at length one of the council announced to him that he was to be sent to the distillery of ekaterinski, three hundred miles to the north of omsk. the clerks around congratulated him on his destination, and his departure was immediate. on a wintry morning he reached a vast plain near the river irtish, on which a village of about two hundred wooden huts was built around a factory. when introduced into the clerks' office, a young man who was writing jumped up and threw himself into his arms: he also was a pole from cracow, a well-known poet, and sent away for life as "a measure of precaution." soon they were joined by another political criminal: these spoke rapidly and with extreme emotion, entreating their new friend to bear everything in the most submissive and patient manner, as the only means of escaping from menial employment, and being promoted to the clerks' office. not long was he permitted to rest. a convict came and ordered him to take a broom and sweep away a mass of dirt that some masons had left; a murderer was his companion; and thus he went on until nightfall, when his two friends were permitted to visit him, in the presence of the soldiers and convicts, most of the latter of whom had been guilty of frightful crimes. thus day after day passed on, in sweeping, carrying wood and water, amid snow and frost. his good conduct brought him, in a year and a half, to the office, where he received ten francs a month and his rations, and the work was light. during this time he saw and conversed with many farmers and travelers from a distance, and gained every information about the roads, rivers, etc., with a view to the escape he was ever meditating. some of the natives unite with the soldiers in exercising an incessant supervision over the convicts, and a common saying among the tartars is: "in killing a squirrel you get but one skin, whilst a convict has three--his coat, his shirt, and his skin." slowly and painfully he collected the materials for his journey. first of all, a passport was an essential. a convict who had been sentenced for making false money, still possessed an excellent stamp of the royal arms; this piotrowski bought for a few francs. the sheet of paper was easily obtained in the office, and the passport forged. after long waiting, he procured a siberian wig--that is, a sheepskin with the wool turned in, to preserve the head from the cold--three shirts, a sheepskin bournouse, and a red velvet cap bordered with fur--the dress of a well-to-do peasant. on a sharp frosty night he quitted ekaterinski for tara, having determined to try the road to the north for archangel, as the least frequented. a large fair was shortly to be held at irbit, at the foot of the urals, and he hoped to hide himself in the vast crowd of people that frequented it. soon after he had crossed the river a sledge was heard behind him. he trembled for his safety--his pursuers were perhaps coming. "where are you going?" shouted the peasant who drove it. "to tara." "give me ten sous, and i will take you." "no; it is too much. i will give eight." "well, so let it be. jump in quickly." he was set down in the street; and knocking at a house, inquired in the russian fashion--"have you horses to hire?" "yes--a pair. where to?" "to irbit. i am a commercial traveler, and going to meet my master. i am behind my time, and wish to go as quickly as possible." no sooner had they set off than a snow-storm came on, and the driver lost his way. they wandered about all night in the forest, and it was impossible to describe the anguish and suffering piotrowski endured. "return to tara," said he, as the day broke; "i will engage another sledge; and you need not expect any money from me, after the folly you have shown in losing your way." they turned, but had hardly gone a mile before the driver jumped up, looked around, and cried--"this is our road." then making up for lost time, he set him down at a friend's house, where he procured some tea and fresh horses. on he went in safety, renewing his horses at small expense, until late at night, when he suffered from a most unfortunate robbery. he had not money at hand to pay the conductor. they turned into a public-house, where a crowd of drunken people were celebrating the carnival. he drew out some paper-money to get change, when the crowd coming round, some one seized his papers, among which were several rouble notes, his invaluable passport, and a note in which he had minutely inscribed all the towns and villages he must pass through on the road to archangel. he was in despair. the very first day, a quarter of his money was gone, and the only thing by which he hoped to evade suspicion, his passport. he dare not appeal to the police, and was obliged to submit. regret and hesitation were not to be thought of. he soon found himself on the high-road to irbit, crowded with an innumerable mass of sledges, going or returning to the fair. it is the season of gain and good humor, and the people show it by unbounded gaiety. piotrowski took courage, returned the salutations of the passers-by--for how could he be distinguished in such a crowd? the gates of irbit were reached on the third day. "halt, and shew your passport," cried an official; but added in a whisper--"give me twenty copecks, and pass quickly." the demand was willingly gratified, and with some difficulty he procured a night's lodging, lying on the floor amidst a crowd of peasants, who had previously supped on radish-soup, dried fish, oatmeal gruel, with oil and pickled cabbage. up at daybreak, he took care to make the orthodox salutations, and passing rapidly through the crowded town, he walked out of the opposite gate, for, henceforwards, his scanty funds demanded that the journey should be made on foot. in the midst of a heavily falling snow, he managed to keep the track, avoiding the villages, and, when hungry, drawing a piece of frozen bread from his bag. at nightfall, he buried himself in the forest, hollowed a deep hole in the snow, and found a hard but warm bed, where he gained the repose he so greatly needed. another hard day, with a dry cutting wind, forced him to ask for shelter at night in a cottage, which was granted without hesitation. he described himself as a workman, going to the iron-foundries at bohotole, on the ural mountains. whilst the supper was preparing, he dried his clothes, and stretched himself on a bench with inexpressible satisfaction. he fancied he had neglected no precautions; his prayers and salutations had been made; and yet suspicion was awakened, as it appeared, by the sight of his three shirts, which no peasant possesses. three men entered, and roughly shook him from sleep, demanding his passport. "by what right do you ask for it? are you police?" "no; but we are inhabitants of the village." "and can you enter houses, and ask for passports! who can say whether you do not mean to rob me of my papers? but my answer is ready. i am lavrenti kouzmine, going to bohotole; and it is not the first time i have passed through the country." he then entered into details of the road and the fair at irbit, ending by showing his permission to pass, which, as it bore a stamp, satisfied these ignorant men. "forgive us," said they. "we thought you were an escaped convict; some of them pass this way." henceforward, he dared not seek the shelter of a house. from the middle of february to the beginning of april, in the midst of one of the severest winters ever known, his couch was in the snow. frozen bread was his food for days together, and the absence of warm aliments brought him face to face with the terrible spectres of cold and hunger. the urals were reached, and he began to climb their wooded heights. on passing through a little village at nightfall, a voice cried: "who is there?" "a traveler." "well, would you like to come and sleep here?" "may god recompense you, yes; if it will not inconvenience you." an aged couple lived there--good people, who prepared a meagre repast, which seemed a feast to piotrowski: the greatest comfort of all being that he could take off his clothes. [illustration: siberian exiles.] they gave him his breakfast, and would not accept any remuneration but his warm and cordial thanks. one evening piotrowski's life was nearly extinct. the way was lost, the hail pierced his skin, his supply of bread was exhausted, and after vainly dragging his weary limbs, he fell into a kind of torpor. a loud voice roused him--"what are you doing here?" "i am making a pilgrimage to the monastery of solovetsk, but the storm prevented my seeing the track, and i have not eaten for several days." "it is not surprising. we who live on the spot often wander away. there, drink that." the speaker gave him a bottle containing some brandy, which burned him so fearfully, that in his pain he danced about. "now try to calm yourself," said the good samaritan, giving him some bread and dried fish, which piotrowski ate ravenously, saying--"i thank you with all my heart. may god bless you for your goodness." "ah, well, do not say so much; we are both christians. now, try to walk a little." he was a trapper; and led him into the right path, pointing out a village inn where he could get rest and refreshment. piotrowski managed to crawl to the place, and then fainted away. when he recovered himself, he asked for radish-soup, but could not swallow it; and toward noon he fell asleep on the bench, never awaking until the same time on the next day, when the host roused him. sleep, rest, and warmth restored him, and he again started on his long pilgrimage. the town of veliki-ustiug was reached, where he determined to change his character and become a pilgrim, going to pray to the holy images of solovetsk, on the white sea. there are four of these holy places to which pious russians resort, and everywhere the wayfarers are well received, hospitality and alms being freely dispensed to those who are going to pray for the peace of the donor. passports are not rigorously exacted, and he hoped to join himself to a company, trusting to be less marked than if alone. as he was standing irresolute in the market-place, a young man accosted him, and finding that they were bound to the same place, invited him to join their party. there were about twenty; but no less than two thousand were in the city on their way, waiting until the thaw should have opened the dwina for the rafts and boats which would transport them to archangel, and then to solovetsk. it was a scene for chaucer: the half-idiot, who sought to be a saint; the knave who played upon the charity of others; and the astute hypocrite. the rafts are loaded with corn, and the pilgrims receive a free passage; or a small sum of money is given them, if they consent to row; from forty to sixty sailors being required for each, the oars consisting of a thin fir-tree. piotrowski was only too happy to increase his small store of money by working. at the break of day, before starting, the captain cried--"seat yourselves, and pray to god." every one squatted down like a mussulman for a moment, then rose and made a number of salutations and crossings; and next, down to the poorest, each threw a small piece of money into the river to secure a propitious voyage. fifteen days passed, during which piotrowski learned to be an expert oarsman. then the golden spires of archangel rose before them; a cry of joy was uttered by all; and the rowers broke off the lower parts of their oars with a frightful crash, according to the universal custom. it was a heartfelt prayer of gratitude that piotrowski raised to god for having brought him thus far in safety. how pleasant was the sight of the ships, with their flags of a thousand colors, after the snow and eternal forests of the urals! but there was again disappointment. he wandered along the piers, but could not find a single vessel bound for france or germany, and not daring to enter the cafes, where perhaps the captains might have been, he left archangel in sadness, determined to skirt the coast towards onega. he would thus pass the celebrated monastery without the necessity of stopping, and pretend that he was proceeding to novgorod and moscow on the same pious pilgrimage. through marshes and blighted fir-plantations the weary wayfarer sped, the white sea rising frequently into storms of the utmost grandeur; but the season was lovely, and the sun warm, so that camping out offered less hardship. the wolves howled around him, but happily he never saw them. many soldiers, who were poles, were established at different points to take charge of the canals. having reached vytegra, he was accosted on the shore by a peasant, who asked where he was going. on hearing his story, he said--"you are the man i want. i am going to st. petersburg. my boat is small, and you can assist me to row." the crafty fellow evidently intended to profit by the pilgrim's arms without wages; but, after long debate, he agreed to supply piotrowski with food during the transport. it seemed strange, indeed, to go to the capital--like running into the jaws of the lion--but he seized every occasion to pass on, lest his papers should be asked for. as they coasted down through lake ladoga and the neva, they took in some women as passengers, who were servants, and had been home to see their parents. one of them, an aged washerwoman, was so teased by the others, that piotrowski took her part, and in return she offered him some very useful assistance. "my daughter," she said, "will come to meet me, and she will find you a suitable lodging." it will be guessed with what joy he accepted the proposal; and during all the time spent in the boat, no one came to ask for passports. the house she took him to was sufficiently miserable; as the russians say, "it was the bare ground, with the wrist for a pillow." he asked his hostess if he must see the police to arrange the business of his passport. "no," she said. "if you only stay a few days, it is useless. they have become so exacting, that they would require me to accompany you, and my time is too precious." as he passed along the quays, looking for a ship, his eyes rested on one to sail for riga on the following morning. he could scarcely master his emotion. the pilot on board called out--"if you want a place to riga, come here." "i certainly want one; but i am too poor to sail in a steamer. it would cost too much." he named a very small sum, and said--"come; why do you hesitate?" "i only arrived yesterday, and the police have not _visé_ my passport." "that will occupy three days. go without a visé. be here at seven o'clock, and wait for me." both were to their time. the sailor said, "give me some money," and handed him a yellow paper; the clock struck; the barrier was opened, and, like a dream, he was safely on the ocean. from riga he went through courland and lithuania. the difficulty of crossing the russian frontier into prussia was still to be managed. he chose the daytime; and when sentinels had each turned their backs, he jumped over the wall of the first of the three glacis. no noise was heard. the second was tried, and the firing of pistols showed that he was perceived. he rushed on to the third, and, breathless and exhausted, gained a little wood, where for many hours he remained concealed. he was in prussia. wandering on through mernel, tilsit, and konigsberg, he decided at the last place to take a ship the next morning to elbing, where he would be near to posen, and among his compatriots. sitting down on a heap of stones, he intended taking refuge for the night in a corn-field; but sleep overcame him, and he was rudely awakened in the darkness by a policeman. his stammering and confused replies awakened suspicion, and to his shame and grief, he was carried off to prison. he announced himself as a french cotton-spinner, but returning from russia, and without a passport. not a word he said was believed. at length, after a month's detention, weary of being considered a concealed malefactor, he asked to speak to m. fleury, a french advocate, who assisted at his trial. to him he confessed the whole truth. nothing could equal his advocate's consternation and astonishment. "what a misfortune!" he said. "we must give you up to the russians; they have just sent many of your countrymen, across the frontier. there is but one way. write to count eulenberg; tell your story, and trust to his mercy." after ten days he received a vague reply, desiring him to have patience. the affair got wind in the town, and a gentleman came to him, asking if he would accept him as bail. efforts had been made in his favor, and the police were ready to set him free. m. kamke, his kind friend, took him home, and entertained him for a week; but an order came from berlin to send the prisoner back to russia, and he received warning in time to escape. letters to various friends on the way were given him, to facilitate his journey; and just four years after he had left paris he reached it in safety again, after having crossed the urals, slept for months in the snow, jumped over the russian frontier in the midst of balls, and passed through so many sufferings and privations. [illustration: tail piece] chapter xxxviii. i remained in irkutsk until snow fell, and the winter roads were suitable for travel. one day the moving portion of the city was on wheels: the next saw it gliding on runners. the little sleighs of the _isvoshchiks_ are exactly like those of st. petersburg and moscow,--miniature affairs where you sit with your face within six inches of the driver's back, and cannot take a friend at your side without much crowding. they move rapidly, and it is a fortunate provision that they are cheap. in all large cities and towns of russia many _isvoshchiks_ go to spend the winter. with a horse and little sleigh and a cash capital sufficient to buy a license, one of these enterprising fellows will set up in business. nobody thinks of walking in moscow or st. petersburg, unless his journey or his purse is very short. it is said there are thirty thousand sleighs for public hire in st. petersburg alone, during the winter months, and two-thirds that number in moscow. the interior towns are equally well supplied in proportion to their population. one may naturally suppose that accidents are frequent where there are many vehicles and fast driving is the fashion. accidents are rare from the fact that drivers are under severe penalties if they run over any one. furthermore the horses are quick and intelligent, and being driven without blinkers, can use their eyes freely. to my mind this plan is better than ours, and most foreigners living in russia are inclined to adopt it. considered as an ornament a blinker decorates a horse about as much as an eye shade does a man. with the first fall of snow, i began preparations for departure. i summoned a tailor and gave orders for a variety of articles in fur and sheep-skin for the road. he measured me for a coat, a cap, a pair of stockings, and a sleigh robe, all in sheep-skin. he then took the size of my ears for a pair of lappets, and proposed fur socks to be worn under the stockings. when the accumulated result of his labors was piled upon the floor of my room, i was alarmed at its size, and wondered if it could ever be packed in a single sleigh. out of a bit of sable skin a lady acquaintance constructed a mitten for my nose, to be worn when the temperature was lowest. it was not an improvement to one's personal appearance though very conducive to comfort. to travel by _peraclodnoi_ (changing the vehicle at every station) is bad enough in summer but ten times bad in winter. to turn out every two or three hours with the thermometer any distance below zero, and shift baggage and furs from one sleigh to another is an absolute nuisance. yery few persons travel by _peraclodnoi_ in winter, and one does not find many sleighs at the post stations from the fact that they are seldom demanded. nearly all travelers buy their sleighs before starting, and sell them when their journeys are ended. i surveyed the irkutsk market and found several sleighs 'up' for sale. throughout siberia a sleigh manufactured at kazan is preferred, it being better made and more commodious than its rivals. my attention was called to several vehicles of local manufacture but my friends advised me not to try them. i sought a _kazanski kibitka_ and with the aid of an intelligent _isvoshchik_ succeeded in finding one. its purchase was accomplished in a manner peculiarly russian. the seller was a _mischanin_ or russian merchant of the peasant class. accompanied by a friend i called at his house and our negotiation began over a lunch and a bottle of nalifka. we said nothing on the subject nearest my heart and his, for at least a half hour, but conversed on general topics. my friend at length dropped a hint that i thought of taking up my residence at irkutsk. this was received with delight, and a glass of nalifka, supplementary to at least half a dozen glasses i had already swallowed. "why don't you come to sleighs at once, and settle the matter?" i asked. "he probably knows what we want, and if we keep on at this rate i shall need a sleigh to go home in." "don't be impatient," said my friend; "you don't understand these people; you must angle them gently. when you want to make a trade, begin a long way from it. if you want to buy a horse, pretend that you want to sell a cow, but don't mention the horse at first. if you do you will never succeed." we hedged very carefully and finally reached the subject. this was so overpowering that we took a drink while the merchant ordered the sleigh dragged into the court yard. we had another glass before we adjourned for the inspection, a later one when we returned to the house, and another as soon as we were seated. after this our negotiations proceeded at a fair pace, but there were many vacuums of language that required liquid filling. after endeavoring to lower his price, i closed with him and we clenched the bargain with a drink. sleighs were in great demand, as many persons were setting out for russia, and i made sure of my purchase by paying on the spot and taking a glass of nalifka. as a finale to the transaction, he urged me to drink again, begged my photograph, and promised to put an extra something to the sleigh. the siberian peasant classes are much like the chinese in their manner of bargaining. neither begins at the business itself, but at something entirely different. a great deal of time, tea, and tobacco is consumed before the antagonists are fairly met. when the main subject is reached they gradually approach and conclude the bargain about where both expected and intended. an american would come straight to the point, and dealing with either of the above races his bluntness would endanger the whole affair. in many matters this patient angling is advantageous, and nowhere more so than in diplomacy. every one will doubtless acknowledge the russians unsurpassed in diplomatic skill. they possess the faculty of touching gently, and playing with their opponents, to a higher degree than any nation of western europe. other things being equal, this ability will bring success. there are several descriptions of sleigh for siberian travel. at the head, stands the _vashok_, a box-like affair with a general resemblance to an american coach on runners. it has a door at each side and glass windows and is long enough for one to lie at full length. [illustration: a vashok.] three persons with limited baggage can find plenty of room in a vashok. a _kibitka_ is shaped much like a tarantass, or like a new england chaise stretched to about seven feet long by four in width. there is a sort of apron that can be let down from the hood and fastened with straps and buckles to the boot. the boot can be buttoned to the sides of the vehicle and completely encloses the occupants. the vashok is used by families or ladies, but the kibitka is generally preferred by men on account of the ability to open it in fine weather, and close it at night or in storms. a sleigh much like this but less comfortable is called a _povoska_. in either of them, the driver sits on the forward part with his feet hanging over the side. his perch is not very secure, and on a rough road he must exercise care to prevent falling off. "why don't you have a better seat for your driver?" i asked of my friend, when negotiating for a sleigh. "oh," said he, "this is the best way as he cannot go to sleep. if he had a better place he would sleep and lose time by slow traveling." a sleigh much used by russian merchants is shaped like an elongated mill-hopper. it has enormous carrying capacity, and in bad weather can be covered with matting to exclude cold and snow. it is large, heavy, and cumbersome, and adapted to slow travel, and when much luggage is to be carried. all these concerns are on runners about thirty inches apart, and generally shod with iron. on each side there is a fender or outrigger which serves the double purpose of diminishing injury from collisions and preventing the overturn of the sleigh. it is a stout pole attached to the forward end of the sleigh, and sloping downward and outward toward the rear where it is two feet from the runner, and held by strong braces. on a level surface it does not touch the snow, but should the sleigh tilt from any cause the outrigger will generally prevent an overturn. in collision with other sleighs, the fender plays an important part. i have been occasionally dashed against sleds and sleighs when the chances of a smash-up appeared brilliant. the fenders met like a pair of fencing foils, and there was no damage beyond the shock of our meeting. [illustration: a kibitka.] the horses are harnessed in the russian manner, one being under a yoke in the shafts, and the others, up to five or six, attached outside. there is no seat in the interior of the sleigh. travelers arrange their baggage and furs to as good a level as possible and fill the crevices with hay or straw. they sit, recline, or lie at their option. pillows are a necessity of winter travel. i exchanged my trunk for a chemadan of enormous capacity, and long enough to extend across the bottom, of my sleigh. for the first thousand versts, to krasnoyarsk, i arranged to travel with a young officer of engineers whose baggage consisted of two or three hundred pounds of geological specimens. for provisions we ordered beef, cabbage soup, little cakes like 'mince turnovers,' and a few other articles. tea and sugar were indispensable, and had a prominent place. our soups, meat, pies, _et cetera_ were frozen and only needed thawing at the stations to be ready for use. the day before my departure was the peculiar property of saint inakentief, the only saint who belongs especially to siberia. everybody kept the occasion in full earnest, the services commencing the previous evening when nearly everybody got drunk. i had a variety of preparations in the shape of mending, making bags, tying up bundles and the like, but though i offered liberal compensation neither man-servant nor maid-servant would lend assistance. labor was not to be had on any terms, and i was obliged to do my own packing. there are certain saints' days in the year when a russian peasant will no more work than would a puritan on sunday. all who could do so on the day above mentioned visited the church four miles from irkutsk, where saint inakentief lies buried. i occupied the fashionable hours of the two days before my departure in making farewell visits according to russian etiquette. not satisfied with their previous courtesy my friends arranged a dinner at the club rooms for the last evening of my stay at irkutsk. the other public dinners were of a masculine character, but the farewell entertainment possessed the charm of the presence of fifteen or twenty ladies. general shelashnikoff, governor of irkutsk, and acting governor general during the absence of general korsackoff, presided at the table. we dined directly before the portraits of the last and present emperors of russia, and as i looked at the likeness of nicholas i thought i had never seen it half as amiable. after the dinner the tables disappeared with magical rapidity and a dance began. while i was talking in a corner behind a table, a large album containing views of irkutsk was presented to me as a souvenir of my visit. the _golovah_ was prominent in the presentation, and when it was ended he urged me to be his _vis a vis_ in a quadrille. had he asked me to walk a tight rope or interpret a passage of sanscrit, i should have been about as able to comply. my education in 'the light fantastic' has been extremely limited, and my acquaintances will testify that nature has not adapted me to achievements in the terpsichorean art. i resisted all entreaties to join the dance up to that evening. i urged that i never attempted it a dozen times in my life, and not at all within ten years. the golovah declared he had not danced in twenty-five years, and knew as little of the art as i did. there was no more to be said. i resigned myself to the pleasures awaiting me, and ventured on the floor very much as an elephant goes on a newly frozen mill-pond. personal diffidence and a regard for truth forbid a laudatory account of my success. i did walk through a quadrille, but when it came to the mazurka i was as much out of place as a blind man in a picture gallery. my arrangement to travel with the geologic officer and his heavy baggage fell through an hour before our starting time. a now plan was organized and included my taking captain paul in my sleigh to krasnoyarsk. two ladies of our acquaintance were going thither, and i gladly waited a few hours for the pleasure of their company. when my preparations were completed, i drove to the house of madame rodstvenny whence we were to set out. the madame and her daughter were to travel in a large kibitka, and had bestowed two servants with much baggage and provisions in a vashok. with our three vehicles we made a dignified procession. we dined at three o'clock, and were ready to start an hour later. just before leaving the house all were seated around the principal room, and for a minute there was perfect silence. on rising all who professed the religion of the greek church bowed to the holy picture and made the sign of the cross. this custom prevails throughout russia, and is never omitted when a journey is to be commenced. there was a gay party to conduct us to the first station, conveniently situated only eight miles away. at the ferry we found the largest assemblage i saw in irkutsk, not excepting the crowd at the fire. the ferry boat was on the other side of the river, and as i glanced across i saw something that caused me to look more intently. it was a little past sunset, and the gathering night showed somewhat indistinctly the american and russian flags floating side by side on the boat. my national colors were in the majority. the scene was rendered more picturesque by a profusion of chinese lanterns lighting every part of the boat. the golovah stood at my side to enjoy my astonishment. it was to his kindness and attention that this farewell courtesy was due. he had the honor of unfurling the first american flag that ever floated over the angara--and his little surprise raised a goodly sized lump in the throat of his guest. [illustration: farewell to irkutsk.] our party was so large that the boat made two journeys to ferry us over the water. i remained till the last, and on the bank of the river bade adieu to irkutsk and its hospitable citizens. i may not visit them again, but i can never forget the open hearted kindness i enjoyed. the siberians have a climate of great severity, but its frosts and snows have not been able to chill the spirit of genuine courtesy, as every traveler in that region can testify. hospitality is a custom of the country, and all the more pleasing because heartily and cheerfully bestowed. the shades of night were falling fast as i climbed the river bank, and began my sleigh ride toward the west. the arched gateway at irkutsk close by the ferry landing, is called the moscow entrance, and is said to face directly toward the ancient capital. as i reached the road, i shouted "_poshol_" to the yemshick, and we dashed off in fine style. at the church or monastery six versts away, i overtook our party. the ladies were in the chapel offering their prayers for a prosperous journey. when they emerged we were ready to go forward over a road not remarkable for its smoothness. at the first station our friends joined us in taking tea. cups, glasses, cakes, champagne bottles, cakes and cold meats, crept somehow from mysterious corners in our vehicles. the station master was evidently accustomed to visits like this, as his rooms were ready for our reception. we were two hours in making our adieus, and consuming the various articles provided for the occasion. there was a general kissing all around at the last moment. we packed the ladies in their sleigh, and then entered our own. as we left the station our friends joined their voices in a farewell song that rang in our ears till lost in the distance, and drowned by nearer sounds. our bells jingled merrily in the frosty air as our horses sped rapidly along the road. we closed the front of our sleigh, and settled among our furs and pillows. the night was cold, but in my thick wrappings i enjoyed a tropical warmth and did not heed the low state of the thermometer. our road for seventy versts lay along the bank of the angara. a thick fog filled the valley and seemed to hug close to the river. in the morning every part of our sleigh except at the points of friction, was white with frost. each little fibre projecting from our cover of canvas and matting became a miniature stalactite, and the head of every nail, bolt, and screw, buried itself beneath a mass like oxydised silver. everything had seized upon and congealed some of the moisture floating in the atmosphere. our horses were of the color, or no color, of rabbits in january; it was only by brushing away the frost that the natural tint of their hair could be discovered, and sometimes there was a great deal of frost adhering to them. during my stay at irkutsk i noticed the prevalence of this fog or frost cloud. it usually formed during the night and was thickest near the river. in the morning it enveloped the whole city, but when the sun was an hour or two in the heavens, the mist began to melt away. it remained longest over the river, and i was occasionally in a thick cloud on the bank of the angara when the atmosphere a hundred yards away was perfectly clear. the moisture congealed on every stationary object. houses and fences were cased in ice, its thickness varying with the condition of the weather. trees and bushes became masses of crystals, and glistened in the sunlight as if formed of diamonds. i could never wholly rid myself of the impression that some of the trees were fountains caught and frozen when in full action. the frost played curious tricks of artistic skill, and its delineations were sometimes marvels of beauty. any one who has visited st. petersburg in winter remembers the effect of a fog from the gulf of finland after a period of severe cold. the red granite columns of st. isaac's church are apparently transformed into spotless marble by the congelation of moisture on their surface. in the same manner i have seen a gray wall at irkutsk changed in a night and morning to a dazzling whiteness. the crystalline formation of the frost had all the varieties of the kaleidoscope without its colors. i slept well during the night, awaking occasionally at the stations or when the sleigh experienced an unusually heavy thump. in the morning i learned we had traveled a hundred and sixty versts from irkutsk. the road was magnificent after leaving the valley of the angara, and the sleigh glided easily and with very little jolting. "no cloud above, no earth below; a universe of sky and snow." i woke to daylight and found a monotonous country destitute of mountains and possessing few hills. it was generally wooded, and where under cultivation near the villages there was an appearance of fertility. there were long distances between the clusters of houses, and i was continually reminded of the abundant room for increase of population. we stopped for breakfast soon after sunrise. the samovar was ordered, and our servants brought a creditable supply of toothsome little cakes and pies. these with half a dozen cups of tea to each person prepared us for a ride of several hours. we dined a little before sunset, and for one i can testify that full justice was done to the dinner. very little can be had at the stations on this road, so that experienced travelers carry their own provisions. one can always obtain hot water, and generally bread, and eggs, but nothing else is certain. in winter, provisions can be easily carried as the frost preserves them alike from decaying or crushing. soup, meats, bread, and other edibles can be carried on long routes with perfect facility. there is a favorite preparation for russian travel under the name of _pilmania_. it is a little ball of minced meat covered with dough, the whole being no larger than a robin's egg. in a frozen state a bag full of pilmania is like the same quantity of walnuts or marbles, and can be tossed about with impunity. when a traveler wishes to dine upon this article he orders a pot of boiling water and tosses a double handful of pilmania into it. after five minutes boiling the mass is ready to be eaten in the form of soup. salt, pepper, and vinegar can be used with it to one's liking. our _diner du voyage_ consisted of pilmania, roast beef, and partridge with bread, cakes, tea, and quass. our table furniture was somewhat limited, and the room was littered with garments temporarily discarded. the ladies were crinolineless, and their coiffures were decidedly not parisian. my costume was a cross between a shooting outfit and the everyday dress of a stevedore, while my hair appeared as if recently dressed with a currant bush. captain paul was equally unpresentable in fastidious parlors, but whatever our apparel it did not diminish the keenness of our appetites. the dinner was good, and the diners were hungry and happy. fashion is wholly rejected on the siberian road, and each one makes his toilet without regard to french principles and tastes. according to russian custom, somebody was to be thanked for the meal. as the dinner came from the provisions in the servants' sleigh we presented our acknowledgments to madame rodstvenny. with the forethought of an experienced traveler the lady had carefully provided her edibles and so abundant was her store that my supply was rarely drawn upon. we were more like a pic-nic party than a company of travelers on a long journey in a siberian winter. mademoiselle was fluent in french, and charming in its use. the only drawback to general conversation was my inability to talk long with madame except by interpretation. in our halts we managed to pass the time in tea-drinking, conversation, and sometimes with music of an impromptu character. i remember favoring air appreciative audience with a solo on a trunk key, followed by mademoiselle and the captain in a duett on a tin cup and a horn comb covered with letter paper. there was very little scenery worthy of note. the villages generally lay in single streets each containing from ten to a hundred houses. between these clusters of dwellings there was little to be seen beyond a succession of wooded ridges with stretches of open ground. the continued snow-scape offered no great variety on the first day's travel, and before night i began to think it monotonous. the villages were from ten to twenty miles apart, and very much the same in general characteristics. the stations had a family likeness. each had a travelers' room more or less comfortable, and a few apartments for the smotretal and his attendants. the travelers' room had some rough chairs, one or two hard sofas or benches, and the same number of tables. while the horses were being changed we had our option to enter the station or stay out of doors. i generally preferred the latter alternative on account of the high temperature of the waiting rooms, which necessitated casting off one's outer garment on entering. during our halts i was fain to refresh myself with a little leg stretching and found it a great relief. the first movement at a station is to present the padaroshnia and demand horses. marco polo says, that the great khan of tartary had posting stations twenty-five miles apart on the principal roads of his empire. a messenger or traveler carried a paper authorizing him to procure horses, and was always promptly supplied. the padaroshnia is of ancient date, if marco be trustworthy. it is not less important to a russian traveler at present than to a tartar one in earlier times. our documents were efficacious, and usually brought horses with little delay. the size of our party was a disadvantage as we occasionally found one or two sets of horses ready but were obliged to wait a short time for a third. paul had a permit to impress horses in the villages while i carried a special passport requesting the authorities to 'lend me all needed assistance.' this was generally construed into despatching me promptly, and we rarely failed with a little persuasion and money, to secure horses for the third sleigh. when we entered the stations for any purpose the sleighs and their contents remained unguarded in the streets, but we never lost anything by theft. with recollections of my experience at stage stations in america, i never felt quite at ease at leaving our property to care for itself. my companions assured me that thefts from posting vehicles seldom occur although the country numbers many convicts among its inhabitants. the native siberians have a reputation for honesty, and the majority of the exiles for minor offences lead correct lives. i presume that wickedly inclined persons in villages are deterred from stealing on account of the probability of detection and punishment. so far as my experience goes the inhabitants of siberia are more honest that those of european russia. in siberia our sleighs required no watching when we left them. after passing the ural mountains it was necessary to hire a man to look after our property when we breakfasted and dined. the horses being the property of the station we paid for them at every change. on no account was the _navodku_ or drink-money to the driver forgotten, and it varied according to the service rendered. if the driver did well but made no special exertion we gave him eight or ten copecks, and increased the amount as we thought he deserved. on the other hand if he was obstinate and unaccommodating he obtained nothing. if he argued that the regulations required only a certain speed we retorted that the regulations said nothing about drink-money. in general we found the yemshicks obliging and fully entitled to their gratuities. we went at breakneck pace where the roads permitted, and frequently where they did not. a travelers' speed depends considerably on the drink-money he is reported to have given on the previous stage. if illiberal to a good driver or liberal to a bad one he cannot expect rapid progress. the regulations require a speed of ten versts ( - / miles) per hour for vehicles not on government service. if the roads are bad the driver can lessen his pace, but he must make all proper exertion to keep up to the schedule. when they are good and the driver is thirsty (as he generally is), the regulations are not heeded. we arranged for my sleigh to lead, and that of the servants to bring up the rear. whatever speed we went the others were morally certain to follow, and our progress was frequently exciting. money was potent, and we employed it. fifteen copecks was a liberal gratuity, and twenty bordered on the munificent. when we increased our offer to twenty-five or thirty it was pretty certain to awaken enthusiasm. sometimes the pecuniary argument failed, and obliged us to proceed at the legal rate. in such cases we generally turned aside and placed the ladies in advance. we made twelve, fourteen, or sixteen versts per hour, and on one occasion i held my watch, and found that we traveled a trifle less than twenty-two versts or about fourteen and a half miles in sixty minutes. i do not think i ever rode in america at such a pace (without steam) except once when a horse ran away with me. ordinarily we traveled faster than the rate prescribed by regulation, and only when the roads were bad did we fall below it. we studied the matter of drink-money till it became an exact science. about noon on the first day from irkutsk we took a yemshick who proved sullen in the highest degree. the country was gently undulating, and the road superb but our promises of navodku were of no avail. we offered and entreated in vain. as a last resort we shouted in french to the ladies and suggested that they take the lead. our yemshick ordered his comrade to keep his place, and refused to turn aside to allow him to pass. he even slackened his speed and drew his horses to a walk. our stout-armed _garcon_ took a position on our sleigh, and by a fistic argument succeeded in turning us aside. we made only fair progress, and were glad when the drive was ended. when we began our rapid traveling, i had fears that the sleigh would go to pieces in consequence, but was soon convinced that everything was lovely. the sport was exciting, and greatly relieved the monotony of travel. we were so protected by furs, pillows, blankets, and hay, that our jolting and bounding had no serious result. the ladies enjoyed it as much as ourselves, and were not at all inconvenienced by any ordinary shaking. once at the end of a furious ride of twenty versts, i found the madame asleep and learned that she had been so since leaving the last station. i have ridden much in american stage coaches, and witnessed some fine driving in the west and in california. but for rapidity and dash, commend me always to the siberian yemshicks. chapter xxxix. on the second morning we stopped at tulemsk to deliver several boxes that encumbered the sleighs. the servants have a way of putting small articles, and sometimes large ones, in the forward end of the vehicle. they are no special annoyance to a person of short stature, but in my own case i was not reconciled to the practice. a russian sleigh is shaped somewhat like a laundry smoothing-iron, much narrower forward than aft, so that a traveler does not usually find the space beneath the driver a world too wide for his shrunk shanks. we thawed out over a steaming samovar with plenty of hot tea. the lady of the house brought a bottle of nalifka of such curious though agreeable flavor that i asked of what fruit it was made. "nothing but orange peel," was the reply. every siberian housewife considers it her duty to prepare a goodly supply of nalifka during the autumn. a glass jar holding two or three gallons is filled to the neck with any kind of fruit or berries, currants and gooseberries being oftenest used. the jar is then filled with native whisky, and placed in a southern window where it is exposed to the sunlight and the heat of the room for ten days. the whisky is then poured off, mixed with an equal quantity of water, placed in a kettle with a pound of sugar to each gallon, and boiled for a few minutes. when cooled and strained it is bottled and goes to the cellar. many siberians prefer nalifka to foreign wines, and a former governor-general attempted to make it fashionable. he eschewed imported wine and substituted nalifka, but his example was not imitated to the extent he desired. our halt consumed three or four hours. after we started an unfortunate pig was found entangled in the framework of my sleigh, and before we could let him out he was pretty well bruised and shaken up. how he came there we were puzzled to know, but i do not believe he ever willingly troubled a sleigh again. we encountered many caravans of sleds laden with merchandise. they were made up much like the trains i described between kiachta and lake baikal, there being four or five sleds to each man. the horses generally guided themselves, and followed their leaders with great fidelity. while we were stopping to make some repairs near the foot of a hill, i was interested in the display of equine intelligence. as a caravan reached the top of the hill each horse stopped till the one preceding him had descended. holding back as if restrained by reins he walked half down the descent, and then finished the hill and crossed the hollow below it at a trot. one after another passed in this manner without guidance, exactly as if controlled by a driver. i noticed that the horses were quite skillful in selecting the best parts of the road. i have occasionally seen a horse pause when there were three or four tracks through the snow, and make his choice with apparent deliberation. i recollect a school boy composition that declared in its first sentence, 'the horse is a noble animal,' but i never knew until i traveled in siberia how much he is entitled to a patent of nobility. in the daytime we had little trouble with these caravans, as they generally gave us the road on hearing our bells. if the way was wide the horses usually turned aside of their own accord; where it was narrow they were unwilling to step in the snow, and did not until directed by their drivers. if the latter were dilatory our yemshicks turned aside and revenged themselves by lashing some of the sled horses and all the drivers they could reach. in the night we found more difficulty as the caravan horses desired to keep the road, and their drivers were generally asleep. we were bumped against innumerable sleds in the hours of darkness. the outriggers alone prevented our sleighs going to pieces. the trains going eastward carried assorted cargoes of merchandise for siberia and china. those traveling westward were generally loaded with tea in chests, covered with cowhide. the amount of traffic over the principal road through siberia is very large. when we halted for dinner i brought a bottle of champagne from, my sleigh. it was the best of the 'cliquot' brand and frozen as solid as a block of ice. it stood half an hour in a warm room before thawing enough to drip slowly into our glasses and was the most perfect _champagne frappé_ i ever saw. a bottle of cognac was a great deal colder than ordinary ice, and when we brought it into the station the moisture in the warm room congealed upon it to the thickness of card-board. after this display i doubted the existence of latent heat in alcohol. just as we finished dinner the post with five vehicles was announced. we hastened to put on our furs and sprang into the sleighs with the least possible delay. there was no fear that we should lose the first and second set of horses, but the last one might be taken for the post as the ladies had only a third-class padaroshnia. the yemshicks were as anxious to escape as ourselves, as the business of carrying the mail does not produce navodka. the post between irkutsk and krasnoyarsk passes twice a week each way, and we frequently encountered it. where it had just passed a station there was occasionally a scarcity of horses that delayed us till village teams were brought. a postillion accompanies each convoy, and is responsible for its security. travelers sometimes purchase tickets and have their vehicles accompany the post, but in so doing their patience is pretty severely taxed. the postillion is a soldier or other government employé, and must be armed to repel robbers. one of these conductors was a boy of fourteen who appeared under heavy responsibility. i watched him loading a pistol at a station and was amused at his ostentatious manner. when the operation was completed he fixed the weapon in his belt and swaggered out with the air of the heavy tragedian at the old bowery. another postillion stuck around with pistols and knives looked like a military museum on its travels. [illustration: the conductor.] from our dining station we left the main road, and traveled several versts along the frozen surface of the birusa river. the snow lay in ridges, and as we drove rapidly over them we were tossed like a yawl in a hopping sea. it was a foretaste of what was in store for me at later periods of my journey. the birusa is rich in gold deposits, and the government formerly maintained extensive mining establishments in its valley. about nine o'clock in the evening we voted to take tea. on entering the station i found the floor covered with a dormant mass, exhaling an odor not altogether spicy. i bumped my head against a sort of wide shelf suspended eighteen or twenty inches from the ceiling, and sustaining several sleepers. "here" said paul, "is another _chambre á coucher_" as he attempted to pull aside a curtain at the top of the brick stove. a female head and shoulders were exposed for an instant, until a stout hand grasped and retained the curtain. the suspended shelf or false ceiling is quite common in the peasant houses, and especially at the stations. the yemshicks and other attachés of the concern are lodged here and on the floor, beds being a luxury they rarely obtain. frequently a small house would be as densely packed as the steerage of a passenger ship, and i never desired to linger in these crowded apartments. a russian house has little or no ventilation, and the effect of a score of sleepers on the air of a room is 'better imagined than described.' on the road west of irkutsk the rules require each smotretal to keep ten teams or thirty horses, ready for use. many of them have more than that number, and the villages can supply any ordinary demand after the regular force is exhausted. fourteen yemshicks are kept at every station, and always ready for service. they are boarded at the expense of the smotretal, and receive about five roubles each per month, with as much drink-money as they can obtain. frequently they make two journeys a day to the next station, returning without loads. they appeared on the most amiable terms with each other, and i saw no quarreling over their work. on our first and second nights from irkutsk the weather was cold, the thermometer standing at fifteen or twenty degrees below zero. on the third day the temperature rose quite rapidly, and by noon it was just below the freezing point. our furs designed for cold weather became uncomfortably warm, and i threw off my outer garments and rode in my sheepskin coat. in the evening we experienced a feeling of suffocation on closing the sleigh, and were glad to open it again. we rode all night with the wind beating pleasantly against our faces, and from time to time lost our consciousness in sleep. for nearly two days the warm weather continued, and subjected us to inconveniences. we did not travel as rapidly as in the colder days, the road being less favorable, and the horses diminishing their energy with the increased warmth. some of our provisions were in danger of spoiling as they were designed for transportation only in a frozen state. between nijne udinsk and kansk the snow was scanty, and the road occasionally bad. the country preserved its slightly undulating character, and presented no features of interest. where we found sufficient snow we proceeded rapidly, sometimes leaving the summer road and taking to the open ground, and forests on either side. we pitched into a great many _oukhabas_, analagous to american "hog wallows" or "cradle holes." to dash into one of these at full speed gives a shock like a boat's thumping on the shore. it is only with pillows, furs, and hay that a traveler can escape contusions. in mild doses _oukhabas_ are an excellent tonic, but the traveler who takes them in excess may easily imagine himself enjoying a field-day at donnybrook fair. [illustration: jumping cradle holes.] an hour before reaching kansk one of our horses fell dead and brought us to a sudden halt. the yemshick tried various expedients to discover signs of life but to no purpose. paul and i formed a board of survey, and sat upon the beast; the other sleighs passed us during our consultation, and were very soon out of sight. when satisfied that the animal, as a horse, was of no further use, the yemshick pulled him to the roadside, stripped off his harness, and proceeded with our reduced team. i asked who was responsible for the loss, and was told it was no affair of ours. the government pays for horses killed in the service of couriers, as these gentlemen compel very high speed. on a second or third rate padaroshnian the death of a horse is the loss of its owner. horses are not expensive in this region, an ordinary roadster being worth from fifteen to twenty roubles. within a mile of kansk the road was bare of snow, and as we had but two horses to our sleigh i proposed walking into town. we passed a long train of sleds on their way to market with loads of wood and hay. tea was ready for us when we arrived at the station, and we were equally ready for it. after my fifth cup i walked through the public square as it was market day, and the people were in the midst of traffic. fish, meat, hay, wood, and a great quantity of miscellaneous articles were offered for sale. in general terms the market was a sort of pocket edition of the one at irkutsk. i practiced my knowledge of russian in purchasing a quantity of rope to use in case of accidents. foreigners were not often seen there if i may judge of the curiosity with which i was regarded. kansk is a town of about three thousand inhabitants, and stands on the kan, a tributary of the yenesei. we were told there was little snow to the first station, and were advised to take five horses to each sleigh. we found the road a combination of thin snow and bare ground, the latter predominating. we proceeded very well, the yemshicks maintaining sublime indifference to the character of the track. they plied their whips vigorously in the probable expectation of drink-money. the one on my sleigh regaled us with an account of the perfectly awful condition of the road to krasnoyarsk. about sunset we changed horses, thirty versts from kansk, and found no cheering prospect ahead. we drowned our sorrows in the flowing tea-cup, and fortified ourselves with a large amount of heat. tea was the sovereign remedy for all our ills, and we used it most liberally. we set out with misgivings and promised liberal rewards to the yemshicks, if they took us well and safely. the road was undeniably bad, with here and there a redeeming streak of goodness. notwithstanding the jolts i slept pretty well during the night. in the morning we took tea fifty versts from krasnoyarsk, and learned there was absolutely no snow for the last thirty versts before reaching the city. there was fortunately a good snow road to the intervening village where we must change to wheels. curiously enough the snow extended up to the very door of the last station, and utterly disappeared three feet beyond. looking one way we saw bare earth, while in the other direction there was a good road for sleighing. at this point we arranged our programme over the inevitable cakes and tea. the ladies were to leave their vashok until their return to irkutsk ten or twelve days later. the remaining sleighs were unladen and mounted upon wheels. we piled our baggage into telyagas with the exception of a few articles that remained in the sleighs. the ladies with their maid took one wagon, while paul and myself rode in another, the man servant conveying the sleighs. the whole arrangement was promptly effected; the villagers scented a job on our arrival, and were ready for proposals. my sleigh was lifted and fastened into a wagon about as quickly as a hackman would arrange a trunk. _place aux dames toujours._ we sent away the ladies half an hour in advance of the rest of the party. our telyaga was a rickety affair, not half so roomy as the sleigh, but as the ride was short the discomfort was of little consequence. we had four ill conditioned steeds, but before we had gone twenty rods one of the brutes persistently faced about and attempted to come inside the vehicle, though he did not succeed. after vain efforts to set him right, the yemshick turned him loose, and he bolted homeward contentedly. we climbed and descended a long hill near the village, and then found a level country quite free from snow, and furnishing a fine road. i was told that very little snow falls within twenty miles of krasnoyarsk, and that it is generally necessary to use wheels there in the winter months. the reason was not explained to me, but probably the general configuration of the country is much like that near chetah. krasnoyarsk lies on the yenesei which has a northerly course into the arctic ocean. the mountains bounding the valley are not lofty, but sufficiently high to wring the moisture from the snow clouds. both above and below krasnoyarsk, there is but little snow even in severe seasons. our animals were superbly atrocious, and made good speed only on descending grades. we were four hours going thirty versts, and for three-fourths that distance our route was equal to the bloomingdale road. occasionally we saw farm houses with a dejected appearance as if the winter had come upon them unawares. from the quantity of ground enclosed by fences i judged the land was fertile, and well cultivated. toward sunset we saw the domes of krasnoyarsk rising beyond the frozen yenesei. we crossed the river on the ice, and passed near several women engaged in rinsing clothes. a laundress does her washing at the house, but rinses her linen at the river. in summer this may be well enough, but it seemed to me that the winter exercise of standing in a keen wind with the thermometer below zero, and rinsing clothes in a hole cut through the ice was anything but agreeable. it was a cold day, and i was well wrapped in furs, but these women were in ordinary clothing, and some had bare legs. they stood at the edges of circular holes in the ice, and after 'swashing' the linen a short time in the water, wrung it with their purple hands. how they escaped frost bites i cannot imagine. the yenesei is a magnificent river, one of the largest in siberia. it is difficult to estimate with accuracy any distance upon ice, and i may be far from correct in considering the yenesei a thousand yards wide at krasnoyarsk. the telegraph wires are supported on tall masts as at the crossing of the missouri near kansas city. in summer there are two steamboats navigating the river from yeneseisk to the arctic ocean. rapids and shoals below krasnoyarsk prevent their ascending to the latter town. the tributaries of the yenesei are quite rich in gold deposits, and support a mining business of considerable extent. krasnoyarsk derives its name from the red hills in its vicinity, and the color of the soil where it stands. it is on the left bank of the yenesei, and has about ten thousand inhabitants. it was nearly night when we climbed the sloping road in the hillside, and reached the level of the plateau. the ladies insisted that we should occupy their house during our stay, and utterly forbade our going to the hotel. while walking up the hill the captain hailed a washerwoman, and asked for the residence of madame rodstvenny. her reply was so voluminous, and so rapidly given that my friend was utterly bewildered, and comprehended nothing. to his astonishment i told him that i understood the direction. "_c'est impossible_," he declared. "by no means," i replied. "the madame lives in a stone house to the left of the gastinni dvor. the washerwoman said so." following my advice we found the house. as we entered the courtyard, the captain begged to know by what possibility i understood in his own language what he could not. i explained that while the woman spoke so glibly i caught the words "_doma, kamen, na leva, gastinni dvor_." i understood only the essential part of her instruction, and was not confused by the rest. i was somewhat reluctant to convert a private house into a hotel as i expected to remain four or five days. but siberian hospitality does not stop at trifles, and my objections were promptly overruled. after toilet and dinner, paul and i were parboiled in the bath house of the establishment. an able-bodied moujik scrubbed me so thoroughly as to suggest the possibility of removing the cuticle. in the morning i went to the bank to change some large bills into one-rouble notes for use on the road. horses must be paid for at every station, and it is therefore desirable to carry the smallest notes with abundance of silver and copper to make change. the bank was much like institutions of its class elsewhere, and transacted my business promptly. the banks in siberia are branches of the imperial bank at st. petersburg. they receive deposits, and negotiate exchanges and remittances just like private banks, but do not undertake risky business. the officers are servants of the government, and receive their instructions from the parent bank. my finances arranged, i went to the telegraph office to send a message to a friend. my despatch was written in russian, and i paid for message and response. a receipt was given me stating the day, hour, and minute of filing the despatch, its destination, address, length, and amount paid. when i received the response i found a statement of the exact time it was filed for transmission, and also of its reception at krasnoyarsk. this is the ordinary routine of the russian telegraph system. i commend it to the notice of interested persons in america. there is no free telegraphing on the government lines, every despatch over the wires being paid for by somebody. if on government business the sender pays the regular tariff and is reimbursed from the treasury. i was told that the officers of the telegraph paid for their own family messages, but had the privilege of conversing on the lines free of charge. high position does not confer immunity. when the czarevitch was married, general korsackoff sent his congratulations by telegraph, and received a response from the emperor. both messages were paid for by the sender without reduction or trust. i found the general features of krasnoyarsk much like those of irkutsk. official and civilian inhabitants dressed, lived, walked, breathed, drank, and gambled like their kindred nearer the east. it happened to be market day, and the public square was densely crowded. i was interested in observing the character and abundance of the fish offered for sale. among those with a familiar appearance were the sturgeon, perch, and pike, and a small fish resembling our alewife. there was a fish unknown to me, with a long snout like a duck's bill, and a body on the extreme clipper model. all these fish are from the yenesei, some dwelling there permanently while others ascend annually from the arctic ocean. all in the market were frozen solid, and the larger ones were piled up like cord-wood. from the bank overlooking the river there is a fine view of the valley of the yenesei. there are several islands in the vicinity, and i was told that in the season of floods the stream has a very swift current. it is no easy work to ferry across it, and the boats generally descend a mile or two while paddling over. a few years ago a resident of krasnoyarsk made a remarkable voyage on this river. he had been attending a wedding several miles away on the other bank, and started to return late at night so as to reach the ferry about daybreak. his equipage was a wooden telyaga drawn by two powerful horses. having partaken of the cup that inebriates, the man fell asleep and allowed his horses to take their own course. knowing the way perfectly they came without accident to the ferry landing, their owner still wrapped in his drunken slumber. [illustration: valley of the yenesei.] the boat was on the other side, and the horses, no doubt hungry and impatient, plunged in to swim across. the telyaga filled with water, but had sufficient buoyancy not to sink. the cold bath waked and sobered the involuntary voyager when about half way over the river. he had the good sense, aided by fright, to remain perfectly still, and was landed in safety. those who saw him coming in the early dawn were struck with astonishment, and one, at least, imagined that he beheld neptune in his marine chariot breasting the waters of the yenesei. my informant vouched for the correctness of the story, and gave it as an illustration of the courage and endurance of siberian horses. according to the statement of the condition of the river, the beasts could have as easily crossed the mississippi at memphis in an ordinary stage of water. wolves are abundant in the valley of the yenesei, though they are not generally dangerous to men. an officer whom i met there told me they were less troublesome than in poland, and he related his experience with them in the latter country while on a visit to the family of a young lady to whom he was betrothed. i give his story as nearly as possible in his own words. "one day my friend rasloff proposed a wolf hunt. we selected the best horses from his stable; fine, quick, surefooted beasts, with a driver who was unsurpassed in all that region for his skill and dash. the sleigh was a large one, and we fitted it with a good supply of robes and straw, and put a healthy young pig in it to serve as a decoy. we each had a gun, and carried a couple of spare guns, with plenty of ammunition, so that we could kill as many wolves as presented themselves. "just as we were preparing to start, christina asked to accompany us. i suggested the coldness of the night, and rasloff hinted that the sleigh was too small for three. but christina protested that the air, though sharp, was clear and still, and she could wrap herself warmly; a ride of a few hours would do her more good than harm. the sleigh, she insisted, was a large one, and afforded ample room. 'besides,' she added, 'i will sit directly behind the driver, and out of your way, and i want to see a wolf-hunt very much indeed.' "so we consented. christina arrayed herself in a few moments, and we started on our excursion. "the servants were instructed to hang out a light in front of the entrance to the courtyard. it was about sunset when we left the chateau and drove out upon the plain, covered here and there with patches of forest. the road we followed was well trodden by the many peasants on their way to the fair at the town, twenty-five miles away. we traveled slowly, not wishing to tire our horses, and, as we left the half dozen villages that clustered around the chateau, we had the road entirely to ourselves. the moon rose soon after sunset, and as it was at the full, it lighted up the plain very clearly, and seemed to stand out quite distinct from the deep blue sky and the bright stars that sparkled everywhere above the horizon. we chatted gayly as we rode along. the time passed so rapidly that i was half surprised, when rasloff told me to get ready to hunt wolves. "the pig had been lying very comfortably in the bottom, of the sleigh, and protested quite loudly as we brought him out. the rope had been made ready before we started from home, and so the most we had to do was to turn the horses around, get our guns ready, and throw the pig upon the ground. he set up a piercing shriek as the rope dragged him along, and completely drowned our voices. paul had hard work to keep the horses from breaking into a run, but he succeeded, and we maintained a very slow trot. christina nestled in the place she had agreed to occupy, and rasloff and i prepared to shoot the wolves. "we drove thus for fifteen or twenty minutes. the pig gradually became exhausted, and reduced his scream to a sort of moan that was very painful to hear. i began to think we should see no wolves, and return to the chateau without firing our guns, when suddenly a howl came faintly along the air, and in a moment, another and another. "'there,' said rasloff; 'there comes our game, and we shall have work enough before long.' "a few moments later i saw a half dozen dusky forms emerging from the forest to the right and behind us. they seemed like moving spots on the snow, and had it not been for their howling i should have failed to notice them as early as i did. they grew more and more numerous, and, as they gathered behind us, formed a waving line across the road that gradually took the shape of a crescent, with the horns pointing toward our right and left. at first they were timid, and kept a hundred yards or more behind us, but as the hog renewed his scream, they took courage, and approached nearer. "by the time they were within fifty yards there were two or three hundred of them--possibly half a thousand. i could see every moment that their numbers were increasing, and it was somewhat impatiently that i waited rasloff's signal to fire. at last he told me to begin, and i fired at the center of the pack. the wolf i struck gave a howl of pain, and his companions, roused by the smell of blood, fell upon and tore him to pieces in a moment. rasloff fired an instant after me, and then we kept up our firing as fast as possible. as the wolves fell, the others sprung upon them, but the pack was so large that they were not materially detained by stopping to eat up their brethren. they continued the pursuit, and what alarmed me, they came nearer, and showed very little fear of our guns. "we had taken a large quantity of ammunition--more by half than we thought would possibly be needed--but its quantity diminished so rapidly as to suggest the probability of exhaustion. the pack steadily came nearer. we cut away the pig, but it stopped the pursuit only for a moment. directly behind us the wolves were not ten yards away; on each side they were no further from the horses, who were snorting with fear, and requiring all the efforts of the driver to hold them. we shot down the beasts as fast as possible, and as i saw our danger i whispered my thoughts to rasloff. "he replied to me in spanish, which christina did not understand, that the situation was really dangerous, and we must prepare to get out of it. 'i would stay longer,' he suggested, 'though there is a good deal of risk in it; but we must think of the girl, and not let her suspect anything wrong, and, above all, must not risk her safety.' "turning to the driver, he said, in a cheery tone: "'paul, we have shot till we are tired out. you may let the horses go, but keep them well in control.' "while he spoke a huge wolf sprang from the pack and dashed toward one of the horses. another followed him, and in twenty seconds the line was broken and they were upon us. one wolf jumped at the rear of the sleigh and caught his paws upon it. rasloff struck him with the butt of his gun, and at the same instant he delivered the blow, paul let the horses have their way. rasloff fell upon the edge of the vehicle and over its side. luckily, his foot caught in one of the robes and held him for an instant--long enough to enable me to seize and draw him back. it was the work of a moment, but what a moment! "christina had remained silent, suspecting, but not fully comprehending our danger. as her brother fell she screamed and dropped senseless to the bottom of the sleigh. i confess that i exerted all my strength in that effort to save the brother of my affianced, and as i accomplished it, i sank powerless, though still conscious, at the side of the girl i loved. rasloff's right arm was dislocated by the fall, and one of the pursuing wolves had struck his teeth into his scalp as he was dragging over the side, and torn it so that it bled profusely. how narrow had been his escape! "'faster, faster, paul!' he shouted; 'drive for your life and for ours.' "paul gave the horses free rein, and they needed no urging. they dashed along the road as horses rarely ever dashed before. in a few minutes i gained strength enough to raise my head, and saw, to my unspeakable delight, that the distance between us and the pack was increasing. we were safe if no accident occurred and the horses could maintain their pace. "one horse fell, but, as if knowing his danger, made a tremendous effort and gained his feet. by-and-by we saw the light at the chateau, and in a moment dashed into the courtyard, and were safe." [illustration: a wolf hunt.] chapter xl. i found at krasnoyarsk more beggars than in irkutsk, in proportion to the population. like beggars in all parts of the empire, they made the sign of the cross on receiving donations. a few were young, but the great majority were old, tattered, and decrepid, who shivered in the frosty air, and turned purple visages upon their benefactors. the peasantry in russia are liberal to the poor, and in many localities they have abundant opportunities to practice charity. with its abundance of beggars krasnoyarsk can also boast a great many wealthy citizens. the day before my departure one of these siberian croesuses died, and another was expected to follow his example before long. a church near the market place was built at the sole expense of this deceased individual. its cost exceeded seven hundred thousand roubles, and its interior was said to be finely decorated. among the middle classes in siberia the erection of churches is, or has been, the fashionable mode of public benefaction. the endowment of schools, libraries, and scientific associations has commenced, but is not yet fully popular. the wealth of krasnoyarsk is chiefly derived from gold digging. the city may be considered the center of mining enterprises in the government of yeneseisk. two or three thousand laborers in the gold mines spend the winter at krasnoyarsk, and add to the volume of local commerce. the town of yeneseisk, three hundred versts further north, hibernates an equal number, and many hundreds are scattered through the villages in the vicinity. the mining season begins in may and ends in september. in march and april the clerks and superintendents engage their laborers, paying a part of their wages in advance. the wages are not high, and only those in straitened circumstances, the dissolute, and profligate, who have no homes of their own, are inclined to let themselves to labor in gold mines. many works are extensive, and employ a thousand or more laborers each. the government grants mining privileges to individuals on certain conditions. the land granted must be worked at least one year out of every three, else the title reverts to the government, and can be allotted again. the grantee must be either a hereditary nobleman or pay the tax of a merchant of the second guild, or he should be able to command the necessary capital for the enterprise he undertakes. his title holds good until his claim is worked out or abandoned, and no one can disturb him on any pretext. he receives a patent for a strip of land seven versts long and a hundred fathoms wide, on the banks of a stream suitable for mining purposes. the claim extends on both sides of the stream, and includes its bed, so that the water may be utilized at the will of the miner. sometimes the grantee desires a width of more than a hundred fathoms, but in such case the length of his claim is shortened in proportion. it requires a large capital to open a claim after the grant is obtained. the location is often far from any city or large town, where supplies are purchased. transportation is a heavy item, as the roads are difficult to travel. sometimes a hundred thousand roubles will be expended in supplies, transportation, buildings, and machinery, before the work begins. then men must be hired, taken to the mines, clothed, and furnished with, proper quarters. the proprietor must have at hand a sufficient amount of provisions, medical stores, clothing, and miscellaneous goods to supply his men during the summer. everything desired by the laborer is sold to him at a lower price than he could buy elsewhere, at least such is the theory. i was told that the mining proprietors make no profits from their workmen, but simply add the cost of transportation to the wholesale price of the merchandise. the men are allowed to anticipate their wages by purchase, and it often happens that there is very little due them at the end of the season. government regulations and the interest of proprietors require that the laborers should be well fed and housed and tended during sickness. every mining establishment maintains a physician either on its own account or jointly with a neighbor. the national dish of russia, _schee_, is served daily, with at least a pound of beef. sometimes the treatment of the men lapses into negligence toward the close of the season, especially if the enterprise is unfortunate; but this is not the case in the early months. the mining proprietors understand the importance of keeping their laborers in good health, and to secure this end there is nothing better than proper food and lodging. vodki is dealt out in quantities sufficiently small to prevent intoxication, except on certain feast-days, when all can get drunk to their liking. no drinking shops can be kept on the premises until the season's work is over and the men are preparing to depart. every laborer is paid for extra work, and if industrious and prudent his wages will equal thirty-five or forty roubles a month beside his board. while in debt he is required by law to work every day, not even resting on saints' days or sundays. the working season lasting only about four months, early and late hours are a necessity. when the year's operations are ended the most of the men find their way to the larger towns, where they generally waste their substance in riotous living till the return of spring. as in mining communities everywhere, the prudent and economical are a minority. the mines in the government of yeneseisk are generally on the tributaries of the yenesei river. the valley of the pit is rich in gold deposits, and has yielded large fortunes to lucky operators during the past twenty years. usually the pay-dirt begins twenty or thirty feet below the surface, and i heard of a mine that yielded handsome profits though the gold-bearing earth was under seventy feet of soil. prospecting is conducted with great care, and no mining enterprise is commenced without a thorough survey of the region to be developed. wells or pits are dug at regular intervals, the exact depth and the character of the upper earth being noted. this often involves a large expenditure of money and labor, and many fortunes have been wasted, by parties whose lucky star was not in the ascendant, in their persistent yet unsuccessful search for paying mines. solid rock is sometimes struck sooner or later after commencing work, which renders the expense of digging vastly greater. in such cases, unless great certainty exists of striking a rich vein of gold beneath, the labor is suspended, the spot vacated, and another selected with perhaps like results. occasionally some sanguine operator will push his well down through fifty feet of solid rock at a great outlay, and with vast labor, to find himself possessed of the means for a large fortune, while another will find himself ruined by his failure to strike the expected gold. when the pay-dirt is reached, its depth and the number of zolotniks of gold in every pood taken out are ascertained. with the results before him a practical miner can readily decide whether a place will pay for working. of course he must take many contingent facts into consideration, such as the extent of the placer, the resources of the region, the roads or the expense of making them, provisions, lumber, transportation, horses, tools, men, and so on through a long list. the earth over the pay-dirt is broken up and carted off; its great depth causes immense wear of horseflesh. a small mine employs three or four hundred workmen, and larger ones in proportion. i heard of one that kept more than three thousand men at work. the usual estimate for horses is one to every two men, but the proportion varies according to the character of the mine. the pay-dirt is hauled to the bank of the river, where it is washed in machines turned by water power. various machines have been devised for gold-washing, and the russians are anxious to find the best invention of the kind. the one in most general use and the easiest to construct is a long cylinder of sheet iron open at both ends and perforated with many small holes. this revolves in a slightly inclined position, and receives the dirt and a stream of water at the upper end. the stones pass through the cylinder and fall from the opposite end, where they are examined to prevent the loss of 'nuggets.' fine dirt, sand, gold, and water pass through the perforations, and are caught in suitable troughs, where the lighter substance washes away and leaves the black sand and gold. great care is exercised to prevent thefts, but it does not always succeed. the laborers manage to purloin small quantities, which they sell to contraband dealers in the larger towns. the government forbids private traffic in gold dust, and punishes offences with severity; but the profits are large and tempting. every gold miner must send the product of his diggings to the government establishment at barnaool, where it is smelted and assayed. the owner receives its money value, minus the imperial tax of fifteen per cent. the whole valley of the yenesei, as far as explored, is auriferous. were it not for the extreme rigor of its climate and the disadvantages of location, it would become immensely productive. some mines have been worked at a profit where the earth is solidly frozen and must be thawed by artificial means. one way of accomplishing this is by piling wood to a height of three or four feet and then setting it on fire. the earth thawed by the heat is scraped off, and fresh fires are made. sometimes the frozen earth is dug up and soaked in water. either process is costly, and the yield of gold must be great to repay the outlay. a gentleman in irkutsk told me he had a gold mine of this frozen character, and intimated that he found it profitable. the richest gold mines thus far worked in siberia are in the government of yeneseisk, but it is thought that some of the newly opened placers in the trans-baikal province and along the amoor will rival them in productiveness. [illustration: hydraulic mining.] in irkutsk i met a russian who had spent some months in california, and proposed introducing hydraulic mining to the siberians. no quartz mines have been worked in eastern siberia, but several rich leads are known to exist, and i presume a thorough exploration would reveal many more. i saw excellent specimens of gold-bearing quartz from the governments of irkutsk and yeneseisk. one specimen in particular, if in the hands of certain new york operators, would be sufficient basis for a company with a capital of half a million. in the altai and ural mountains quartz mills have been in use for many years. the siberian gold deposits were made available long before russia explored and conquered northern asia. there are many evidences in the ural mountains of extensive mining operations hundreds of years ago. large areas have been dug over by a people of whom the present inhabitants can give no account. it is generally supposed that the tartars discovered and opened these gold mines shortly after the time of genghis khan. the native population of the valley of the yenesei comprises several distinct tribes, belonging in common to the great mongolian race. in the extreme north, in the region bordering the arctic ocean, are the samoyedes, who are of the same blood as the turks. the valley of the lena is peopled by yakuts, whose development far exceeds that of the samoyedes, though both are of common origin. the latter are devoted entirely to the chase and the rearing of reindeer, and show no fondness for steady labor. the yakuts employ the horse as a beast of burden, and are industrious, ingenious, and patient. as much as the character of the country permits they till the soil, and are not inclined to nomadic life. they are hardy and reliable laborers, and live on the most amicable terms with the russians. before the opening of the amoor the carrying trade from yakutsk to ohotsk was in their hands. as many as forty thousand horses used to pass annually between the two points, nearly all of them owned and driven by yakuts. most of these natives have been converted to christianity, but they still adhere to some of their ancient practices. on the road, for example, they pluck hairs from their horse's tails and hang them upon trees to appease evil spirits. some of the russians have imbibed native superstitions, and there is a story of a priest who applied to a shaman to practice his arts and ward off evil in a journey he was about to make. examples to the natives are not always of the best, and it would not be surprising if they raised doubts as to the superiority of christian faith. a traveler who had a mixed party of cossacks and natives, relates that the former were accustomed to say their prayers three or four times on evenings when they had plenty of leisure and omit them altogether when they were fatigued. at nijne kolymsk captain wrangell found the priests holding service three times on one sunday and then absenting themselves for two weeks. south of krasnoyarsk are the natives belonging to the somewhat indefinite family known as tartars. they came originally from central asia, and preserve many mongol habits added to some created by present circumstances. some of them dwell in houses, while others adhere to yourts of the same form and material as those of the bouriats and mongols. they are agriculturists in a small way, but only adopt tilling the soil as a last resort. their wealth consists in sheep, cattle, and horses, and when one of them has large possessions he changes his habitation two or three times a year, on account of pasturage. a gentleman told me that he once found a tartar, whose flocks and herds were worth more than a million roubles, living in a tent of ordinary dimensions and with very little of what a european would call comfort. these natives harmonize perfectly with the russians, of whom they have a respectful fear. like their kindred in central asia, these tartars are excellent horsemen, and show themselves literally at home in the saddle. dismounted, they step clumsily, and are unable to walk any distance of importance. on horseback they have an easy and graceful carriage, and are capable of great endurance. they show intense love for their horses, caressing them constantly and treating their favorite riding animals as household pets. in all their songs and traditions the horse occupies a prominent place. one of the most popular tartar songs, said to be of great antiquity, relates the adventures of "swan's wing," a beautiful daughter of a native chief. her brother had been overpowered by a magician and carried to the spirit laird. according to the tradition the horse he rode came to swan's wing and told her what had occurred. the young girl begged him to lead her by the road the magician had taken, and thus guided, she reached the country of the shades. assisted by the horse she was able to rescue her brother from the prison where he was confined. on her return she narrated to her people the incidents of her journey, which are chanted at the present time. the song tells how one of the supernatural guardians was attracted by her beauty and became her _valet de place_ during her visit. near the entrance of the grounds she saw a fat horse in a sandy field, and a lean one in a meadow. a thin and apparently powerless man was wading against a torrent, while a large and muscular one could not stop a small brook. "the first horse," said her guide, "shows that a careful master can keep his herds in good condition with scanty pasturage, and the second shows how easily one may fail to prosper in the midst of plenty. the man stemming the torrent shows how much one can accomplish by the force of will, even though the body be weak. the strong man is overpowered by the little stream, because he lacks intelligence and resolution." she was next led through several apartments of a large building. in the first apartment several women were spinning incessantly, while others attempted to swallow balls of hemp. next she saw women holding heavy stones in their hands and unable to put them down. then there were parties playing without cessation upon musical instruments, and others busy over games of chance. in one room were men and dogs enraged and biting each other. in a dormitory were many couples with quilts of large dimensions, but in each couple there was an active struggle, and its quilt was frequently pulled aside. in the last hall of the establishment there were smiling couples, at peace with all the world and 'the rest of mankind.' the song closes with the guide's explanation of what swan's wing had seen. "the women who spin now are punished because in their lives they continued to spin after sunset, when they should be at rest. "those who swallow balls of hemp were guilty of stealing thread by making their cloth too thin. "those condemned to hold heavy stones were guilty of putting stones in their butter to make it heavy. "the parties who make music and gamble did nothing else in their life time, and must continue that employment perpetually. "the men with the dogs are suffering the penalty of having created quarrels on earth. "the couples who freeze under ample covering are punished for their selfishness when mortals, and the couples in the next apartment are an example to teach the certainty of happiness to those who develop kindly disposition." the region of the lower yenesei contains many exiles whom the government desired to remove far from the centers of population. these include political and criminal prisoners, whose offences are of a high grade, together with the members of a certain religious order, known as "the skoptsi." the latter class is particularly obnoxious on account of its practice of mutilation. whenever an adherent of this sect is discovered he is banished to the remotest regions, either in the north of siberia or among the mountains of circassia. it is the only religious body relentlessly persecuted by the russian government, and the persecution is based upon the sparseness of population. some of these men have been incorporated into regiments on the frontier, where they prove obedient and tractable. those who become colonists in siberia are praised for their industry and perseverance, and invariably win the esteem of their neighbors. they are banished to distant localities through fear of their influence upon those around them. most of the money-changers of moscow are reputed to believe in this peculiar faith. many prominent individuals were exiled to the lower yenesei and regions farther eastward, under former sovereigns. count golofkin, one of the ministers of catherine ii., was banished to nijne kolymsk, where he died. it is said that he used to put himself, his servants, and house in deep mourning on every anniversary of catherine's birthday. two officers of the court of the emperor paul were exiled to a small town on the yenesei, where they lived until recalled by alexander i. the settlers on the angara are freed from liability to conscription, on condition that they furnish rowers and pilots to boats navigating that stream. the settlers on the lena enjoy the same privilege under similar terms. on account of the character of the country and the drawbacks to prosperity, the taxes are much lighter than in more favored regions. in the more northern districts there is a considerable trade in furs and ivory. the latter comes in the shape of walrus tusks, and the tusks and teeth of the mammoth, which are gathered on the shores of the arctic ocean and the islands scattered through it. this trade is less extensive than it was forty or fifty years ago. [illustration: tail piece] chapter xli. i spent three days in krasnoyarsk, chiefly employed upon my letters and journal. my recent companions were going no farther in my direction, and knowing this beforehand, i arranged with a gentleman at irkutsk to travel with him from krasnoyarsk. he arrived two days behind me, and after sending away a portion of his heavy baggage, was ready to depart. there was no snow to the first station, and so we sent our sleighs on wheels and used the post carriages over the bare ground. a peasant who lived near the station sought me out and offered to transport my sleigh for three roubles and a little drink-money. as i demurred, he proposed to repair, without extra charge, one of my fenders which had come to grief, and we made a bargain on this proposition. my companion, dr. schmidt, had recently returned from a mammoth-hunting expedition within the arctic circle. he had not secured a perfect specimen of this extinct beast, but contented himself with some parts of the stupendous whole, and a miscellaneous collection of birds, bugs, and reptiles. he despatched a portion of his treasures by post; the balance, with his assistant, formed a sufficient load for one sleigh. the doctor was to ride in my sleigh, while his assistant in another vehicle kept company with the relicts. the kegs, boxes, and bundles of arctic zoology did not form a comfortable couch, and i never envied their conductor. on the day fixed for our departure we sent our papers to the station in the forenoon, and were told we could be supplied at sunset or a little later. this was not to our liking, as we desired to reach the first station before nightfall. a friend suggested an appeal to the master of the post, and together we proceeded to that functionary's office. an amiable, quiet man he was, and listened to our complaint with perfect composure. after hearing it he summoned the smotretal with his book of records, and an animated discussion followed. i expected to see somebody grow indignant, but the whole affair abounded in good nature. the conversation was conducted with the decorum of a school dialogue on exhibition day. in half an hour by the clock i was told i could have a troika at once, in consideration of my special passport. "wait a little," whispered my friend in french, "and we will have the other troika for schmidt." so i waited, kicking my heels about the room, studying the posters on the walls, eyeing a bad portrait of the emperor, and a worse one of the empress, and now and then drawing near the scene of action. the clerks looked at me in furtive glances. at every pronunciation of my name, coupled with the word "amerikansky," there was a general stare all around. i am confident those attachés of the post office at krasnoyarsk had a perfect knowledge of my features. in exactly another half hour our point and the horses were gained. when we entered the office it was positively declared there were no horses to be had, and it was a little odd that two troikas and six horses, could be produced out of nothing, and each of them at the end of a long talk. i asked an explanation of the mystery, but was told it was a russian peculiarity that no american could understand. the horses came very promptly, one troika to schmidt's lodgings and the other to mine. the servants packed my baggage into the little telyaga that was to carry me to the first station. joining schmidt with the other team, we rattled out of town on an excellent road, and left the red hills of krasnoyarsk. the last object i saw denoting the location of the town was a church or chapel on a high cliff overlooking the yenesei valley. the road lay over an undulating region, where there were few streams and very little timber. the snow lay in little patches here and there on the swells least exposed to the sun, but it did not cover a twentieth part of the ground. in several hollows the mud had frozen and presented a rough surface to our wheels. our telyaga had no springs, and when we went at a rapid trot over the worst places the bones of my spinal column seemed engaged in a struggle for independence. a thousand miles of such riding would have been too much for me. a dog belonging to madame radstvenny's house-keeper followed me from krasnoyarsk, but did not show himself till we were six or eight versts away. etiquette, to say nothing of morality, does not sanction stealing the dog of your host, and so i arranged for the brute's return. in consideration of fifty copecks the yemshick agreed to take the dog on his homeward trip and deliver him in good order and condition at krasnoyarsk. just before reaching the first station we passed through a village nearly four miles long, but only a single street in width. the station was at the extreme end of the village; our sleighs were waiting for us, and so were the men who brought them from krasnoyarsk. there was no snow for the next twenty versts, and consequently the sleighs needed further transportation. schmidt's sleigh was dragged empty over the bare ground, but mine, being heavier, was mounted upon wheels. other difficulties awaited us. there was but one troika to spare and only one telyaga. we required two vehicles for ourselves and baggage, but the smotretal could not accommodate us. we ordered the samovar, and debated over our tea. i urged my friend to try the effect of my special passport, which had always been successful in paul's hands. he did so after our tea-drinking, but the document was powerless, the smotretal doubtless arguing that if the paper were of consequence we should have shown it on our arrival. we sent it to the _starost_, or head man of the village, but that worthy declined to honor it, and we were left to shift for ourselves. evidently the power of the governor general's passport was on the wane. the document was a request, not an order, and therefore had no real force. paul always displayed it as if it were an imperial ukase. his manner of spreading the double page and exhibiting seal and signature carried authority and produced horses. the amiable naturalist had none of the quality called 'cheek,' and the adoption of an authoritative air did not accord with his character. he subsequently presented the passport as if he thought it all-powerful, and on such occasions it generally proved so. a man who wishes to pass a doorkeeper at a caucus, enter a ladies' car on a railway, or obtain a reserved seat in a court room, is much more certain of success if he advances with a confident air than if he hesitates and appears fearful of ejection. humanity is the same the world over, and there is more than a shadow of truth in the saying that society values a man pretty much as he appears to value himself. i can testify that the smotretals in siberia generally regarded our papers according to our manner of showing them. we took tea a second time, parlayed with the yemshicks and their friends, and closed by chartering a team at double the regular rates. just before reaching the snow we passed the sleighs, and halted for them to come up. my sleigh was very soon ready, and we rejoiced at our transfer of baggage. during the change a bottle of cognac disappeared mysteriously, and i presume we shall never see it again. the other and more cumbersome articles preserved their numbers faithfully. our party halting in the moonlight and busy about the vehicles, presented a curiously picturesque appearance. schmidt was in his arctic costume, while i wore my winter dress, minus the dehar. the yemshicks were wrapped in their inevitable sheepskins, and bustled about with unwavering good humor. in the sleigh we were at home, and had a roof to cover us; we made very good speed to the station, where we found no horses. the floor of the travelers' room was covered with dormant figures, and after bumping my head over the doorway, i waded in a pond of bodies, heads, and legs. the moon was the only light, and its beams were not sufficient to prevent my stepping on several sleepers, and extracting russian oaths for my carelessness. "now for it," i whispered to the good-natured doctor, as we waked the smotretal. "make him think our papers are important." the official rubbed his eyes over the passport, and then hastened to arouse the starost. the latter ordered horses from the village without delay. it had been a fete-day in honor of the emperor, and most of the villagers were drunk, so that it required some time to assemble the requisite yemshicks and horses. a group of men and women from an evening party passed the station, and amused us with native songs. an inebriated moujik, riding on a small sled, turned from the road to enter the station yard. one side of the sled passed over a log, and as the man had not secured his balance, he rolled out of sight in a snow drift. i watched him as he emerged, much as neptune might appear from the crest of a foamy wave. the siberians keep all the imperial fete-days with scrupulous exactness, and their loyalty to the emperor is much akin to religious awe. the whole imperial family is the object of great respect, and whatever is commanded in the name of the emperor meets the most cheerful acquiescence. one finds the portrait of alexander in almost every house, and i never heard the name of that excellent ruler mentioned disrespectfully. if his majesty would request that his subjects abstain from vodki drinking on imperial fete-days, he would do much toward their prosperity. it would be an easy beginning in the cause of temperance, as no one could consider it out of place for the emperor to prescribe the manner of celebrating his own festivals. the work once begun in this way, would be likely to lead to good results. drunkenness is the great vice of the russian peasant, and will never be suppressed without the active endeavors of the government. [illustration: down hill.] when we started from the station we ran against the gate post, and were nearly overturned in consequence. my head came against the side of the sleigh with a heavy thump that affected me more than it did the vehicle. we descended a long hill at a full run, and as our yemshick was far from sober i had a lively expectation of a general smash at the bottom. about half way down the descent we met a sleigh and dashed our fenders against it. the strong poles rubbed across each other like fencing foils, and withstood the shock finely. at sunset there were indications of a snow storm, in the gradual ascent of the thermometer. an hour past midnight the temperature was above freezing point, and the sleigh runners lost that peculiar ringing sound that indicates cold weather. i threw off my furs and endeavored to sleep, but accomplished little in that direction. my clothing was too thick or too thin. without my furs i shivered, and with them i perspired. my sleigh robe was too much for comfort, and the absence of it left something to be desired. warm weather is a great inconvenience in a siberian winter journey. the best temperature for travel is from five to fifteen degrees below the freezing point. the road was abominable, though it might have been worse. it was full of drifts, bare spots, and _oukhabas_, and our motion was as varied as a politician's career. sometimes it was up, then down, then sidewise, and then all ways at once. we pitched and rolled like a canoe descending the lachine rapids, or a whale-boat towed by a hundred-barrel "bow-head." in many places the snow was blown from the regular road, and the winter track wound through fields and forests wherever snow could be found. there was an abundance of rocks, stumps, and other inequalities to relieve the monotony of this mode of travel. we went much out of our way to find snow, and i think we sometimes increased, by a third or a half, the distance between stations. the road was both horizontally and vertically tortuous. my companion took every occurrence with the utmost coolness, and taught me some things in patience i had not known before. he was long accustomed to siberian travel, having made several scientific journeys through northern asia. in the russian geographical society sent him to visit the amoor valley and explore the island of sakhalin. his journey thither was accomplished in winter, and when he returned he brought many valuable data touching the geology and the vegetable and animal life of the island. he told me he spoke the american language, having learned it among my countrymen at nicolayevsk, but had never studied english. his journey to the arctic circle was made on behalf of the russian academy of science, of which he was an active member. in the captain of a yenesei steamer learned that some natives had discovered the perfectly preserved remains of a mammoth in latitude °, about a hundred versts west of the river. he announced the fact to a _savant_, who sent the intelligence to st. petersburg. scientific men deemed the discovery so important that they immediately commissioned dr. schmidt to follow it up. the doctor went to eastern siberia in february, and in the following month proceeded down the yenesei to turuhansk, where he remained four or five weeks waiting for the season of warmth and light. he was accompanied by mr. lopatin, a russian geologist, and a staff of three or four assistants. they carried a photographic apparatus, and one of the sensations of their voyage was to take photographs at midnight in the light of a blazing sun. when the yenesei was free of ice the explorers, in a barge, descended from turuhansk to the landing place nearest the mammoth deposit. several cossacks accompanied the party from turuhansk, and assisted in its intercourse with the natives. the latter were peacefully inclined, and gladly served the men who came so recently from the emperor's dwelling place. they brought their reindeer and sledges, and guided the explorers to the object of their search. the country in the arctic circle has very little vegetation, and the drift wood that descends the yenesei is an important item to the few natives along the river. the trees growing north of latitude ° are very small, and as one nears the coast of the frozen ocean they disappear altogether. the principal features of the country are the wide _tundras_, or moss-covered plains, similar to those of north eastern siberia. the scattered aboriginals are tunguse and samoyedes. their chief employment is the chase in winter, fishing in summer, and the care of their reindeer at all seasons. reindeer form their principal wealth, and are emphatically the circulating medium of the country. dr. schmidt told me he rode in a reindeer sledge from the river to within a short distance of the mammoth. it was the month of june, but the snow had not disappeared and nothing could be accomplished. a second visit several weeks later was more successful. in the interval the party embarked on the steamer which makes one or two journeys every summer to the arctic ocean in search of fish, furs, and ivory. a vigorous traffic is maintained during the short period that the river remains open. on the return from the arctic ocean, the season was more favorable to mammoth-hunting. unfortunately the remains were not perfect. the skeleton was a good deal broken and scattered, and some parts were altogether lacking. the chief object of the enterprise was to obtain the stomach of the mammoth so that its contents could be analyzed. it is known that the beast lived upon vegetable food, but no one has yet ascertained its exact character. some contend that the mammoth was a native of the tropics, and his presence in the north is due to the action of an earthquake. others think he dwelt in the arctic regions, and never belonged in the tropics. "if we had found his stomach," said the doctor, "and ascertained what kind of trees were in it, this question would have been decided. we could determine his residence from the character of his food." though making diligent search the doctor found no trace of the stomach, and the great point is still open to dispute. he brought away the under jaw of the beast, and a quantity of skin and hair. the skin was half an inch thick, and as dry and hard as a piece of sole leather. the hair was like fine long bristles, and of a reddish brown color. from the quantity obtained it is thought the animal was pretty well protected against ordinary weather. the doctor gave me a cigar tube which a samoyede fabricated from a small bone of the mammoth. he estimated that the beast had been frozen about ten thousand years in the bank where he found him, and that his natural dwelling place was in the north. the country was evidently much warmer when the mammoth, roamed over it than now, and there is a belief that some convulsion of the earth, followed by a lowering of the temperature, sealed the remains of the huge beasts in the spots where they are now discovered. in the year a bank of frozen earth near the mouth of the lina, in latitude ° broke away and revealed the body of a mammoth. hair, skin, flesh and all, had been completely preserved by the frost. in a scientific commission visited the spot, but the lapse of seven years proved of serious consequence. there had been a famine in the surrounding region, and the natives did not scruple to feed their dogs from the store of flesh which nature had preserved. not supposing the emperor desired the bones of the beast they carried away such as they fancied. the teeth of the bears, wolves, and foxes were worse than the tooth of time, and finished all edible substance the natives did not take. only the skeleton remained, and of this several bones were gone. all that could be found was taken, and is now in the imperial collection at st. petersburg. the remains of the mammoth show that the beast was closely akin to the elephant, but had a longer and more compressed skull, and wore his tusks in a different manner. tusks have been found more than nine feet long, and i am told that one discovered some years ago, exceeds ten feet in length. the skull from the lena mammoth weighed four hundred and some odd pounds. others have been found much larger. the mammoth was evidently an animal that commanded the respect of the elephant, and other small fry quadrupeds. bones of the rhinoceros and hippopotamus abound in northern siberia, and like those of the mammoth are found in the frozen earth. in the last century the body of a rhinoceros of an extinct species was found on the river vilouy, a tributary of the lena. in the museum at st. petersburg there is a head of the arctic rhinoceros on which the skin and tendons remain, and a foot of the same animal displays a portion of its hair. the claws of an enormous bird are also found in the north, some of them three feet long, and jointed through their whole length like the claws of an ostrich. captain wrangell and other explorers say the mammoth bones are smaller on the arctic islands than on the main land, but are wonderfully increased in quantity. for many years the natives and fur traders have brought away large cargoes, but the supply is not yet exhausted. the teeth and tusks on the islands are more fresh and white than those of the continent. on the lachoff islands the principal deposit was on a low sand bank, and the natives declared that when the waves receded after an easterly wind, a fresh supply was always found. one island about latitude ° was said to be largely composed of mammoth bones. i presume this statement should be received with a little caution. during the doctor's expedition the supply of provisions was not always abundant, but there was no absolute scarcity. the party lived for some time on fish, and on the flesh of the reindeer. a story was told that the explorers were reduced to subsisting on the mammoth they discovered, and hence their failure to bring away portions of the flesh. mammoth cutlets and soup were occasionally proposed for the entertainment of the _savants_ on their return to irkutsk. one of my acquaintances had a narrow escape from death on the ice during an expedition toward kotelnoi island, and the chain lying to the east of it, generally known as new siberia. it was early in the spring--somewhat later than the time of the ordinary winter journeys--that he set out from the mouth of the lena, hoping to reach kotelnoi island, and return before the weather became warm. he had four dog teams, and was accompanied by a russian servant and two yakut natives, whom he engaged for a voyage down the lena, and the expedition across the ice. it was known that a quantity of ivory had been gathered on the island, and was waiting for transportation to the lena; to get this ivory was the object of the journey. i will tell the story in the words of the narrator, or as nearly as i can do so from recollection. "we reached the island without serious trouble; the weather was clear and cold, and the traveling quite as good as we expected. where the ice was level we got along very well, though there were now and then deep fissures caused by the frost, and which we had some difficulty in crossing. frequently we were obliged to detach the dogs from the sleds and compel them to jump singly across the fissures. the sledges were then drawn over by hand, and once on the other side the teams were re-harnessed, and proceeded on their way. the ice was seven or eight feet thick, and some of the fissures were a yard wide at the surface, and tapered to a wedge shape at the bottom. it was not absolutely dangerous, though very inconvenient to fall into one of the crevices, and our dogs were very careful to secure a good foothold on the edges where they jumped. [illustration: dogs among ice.] "the second day out we got among a great many hummocks, or detached pieces of bergs, that caused us much trouble. they were so numerous that we were often shut out from the horizon, and were guided solely by the compass. frequently we found them so thick that it was impossible to break a road through them, and after working for an hour or two, we would be compelled to retrace our steps, and endeavor to find a new route. where they formed in ridges, and were not too high, we broke them down with our ice-hatchets; the work was very exhausting to us, and so was the task of drawing the sledges to the poor dogs. "just as we left the level ice, and came among these hummocks, the dogs came on the fresh track of a polar bear, and at once started to follow him. my team was ahead, and the dogs set out in full chase, too rapidly for me to stop them, though i made every effort to do so. the other teams followed close upon us, and very soon my sledge overturned, and the dogs became greatly mixed up. the team of nicolai, my servant, was likewise upset close to mine, and we had much trouble to get them right again. ivan and paul, the two yakuts, came up and assisted us. their dogs following on our track had not caught the scent of the bear so readily as ours, and consequently were more easily brought to a stop. "we set the sledges right, and when we were ready to start, the sharp eyes of ivan discovered the bear looking at us from behind a hummock, and evidently debating in his mind whether to attack us or not. leaving the teams in charge of paul, i started with nicolai and ivan to endeavor to kill the bear. nicolai and myself were armed with rifles, while ivan carried a knife and an ice-hatchet. "the bear stood very patiently as we approached; he was evidently unaccustomed to human visitors, and did not understand what we were about. the hummock where he stood was not very steep, and i thought it best to get a position a little above him for better safety, in case we had a sharp fight after firing our first shot. we took our stand on a little projection of ice a few feet higher than where he was, and about thirty paces distant; i arranged that nicolai should fire first, as i was a better shot than he, and it would be best for me to have the reserve. nicolai fired, aiming at the bear's heart, which was well protected, as we knew, by a thick hide and a heavy mass of flesh. "the shot was not fatal. the bear gave a roar of pain, and sprang toward us. i waited until he placed his huge fore paws over the edge of the little ridge where we stood, and exposed his throat and chest. he was not more than ten feet away, and i buried the bullet exactly where i wished. but, notwithstanding both our shots, the animal was not killed, but lifted himself easily above the shelf, and sprang toward us. "we retreated higher up to another shelf, and as the bear attempted to climb it, nicolai struck him with the butt of his rifle, which the beast warded off with his paw, and sent whirling into the snow. but at the same instant ivan took his opportunity to deal an effective blow with his ice-hatchet, which he buried in the skull of the animal, fairly penetrating his brain. the blow accomplished what our shots had not. bruin fell back, and after a few convulsive struggles, lay dead at our feet. "we hastened back to the teams, and brought them forward. we were not absent more than twenty minutes, but by the time we returned several arctic foxes had made their appearance, and were snuffing the air, preparatory to a feast. we drove them off, and very soon, the dogs were enjoying a meal of fresh meat, that we threw to them immediately on removing the skin of the bear, which the yakuts accomplished with great alacrity. the beast was old and tough, so that most of his flesh went to the dogs, part of it being eaten on the spot, while the rest was packed on the sledges for future use. "we had no other incidents of importance until our return from the island. the weather suddenly became cloudy, and a warm wind set in from the southward. the snow softened so that the dogs could with difficulty draw the sledges, even when relieved of our weight. we walked by their side, encouraging them in every possible way, and as the softness of the snow increased, it became necessary to throw away a part of the loads. our safety required that we should reach the land as soon as possible, since there were many indications that the ice was about to break up. after sixteen hours of continuous dragging, we stopped, quite exhausted, though still thirty miles from land, as it was absolutely impossible for men or dogs to proceed further without rest. i was so utterly worn out that i sank upon the snow, hardly able to move. the yakuts fed the dogs, and then lay down at their side, anxiously waiting the morning to bring us relief. "just as the day was opening, i was awakened by a rumbling noise, and a motion below me, followed by a shout from ivan. "'the ice is breaking up!' "i sprang to my feet, and so did my companions. the dogs were no less sensible of their danger than ourselves, and stirred uneasily while giving vent to plaintive whines. the wind from the south had increased; it was blowing directly off the land, and i could see that the ice was cracking here and there under its influence, and the whole field was in motion. dark lanes appeared, and continued to increase in width, besides growing every minute more numerous. i ordered all the loads thrown from the sledges, with the exception of a day's provisions for men and dogs, and a few of our extra garments. when this was done--- and it was done very speedily--- we started for the shore. [illustration: jumping the fissures.] "we jumped the dogs over the smaller crevices without serious accident, but the larger ones gave us a great deal of trouble. on reaching them, we skirted along their edges till we could find a cake of ice large enough to ferry us over. in this way we crossed more than twenty openings, some of them a hundred yards in width. do not suppose we did so without being thrown several times in the water, and on one occasion four of the dogs were drowned. the poor brutes became tangled in their harness, and it was impossible to extricate them. all the dogs seemed to be fully aware of their danger, and to understand that their greatest safety lay in their obeying us. i never saw them more obedient, and they rarely hesitated to do what we commanded. it grieved me greatly to see the dogs drowning when we were unable to help them, but could only listen to their cries for help, until stifled by the water. "we toiled all day, and night found us five miles from shore, with a strip of open water between us and land. here and there were floating cakes of ice, but the main body had been blown off by the wind and promised to be a mile or two further to the north before morning. "i determined to wait for daylight, and then endeavor to reach the shore on cakes of ice. the attempt would be full of danger, but there was nothing else to be done. reluctantly i proposed abandoning the dogs, but my companions appealed to me to keep them with us, as they had already saved our lives, and it would be the basest ingratitude to desert them. i did not require a second appeal, and promised that whatever we did, the dogs should go with us if possible. "imagine the horror of that night! we divided the little food that remained, men and dogs sharing alike, and tried to rest upon the ice. we had no means of making a fire, our clothing was soaked with water, and, during the night, the wind shifted suddenly to the northward and became cold. i was lying down, and fell asleep from utter exhaustion; though the cold was severe, i did not think it dangerous, and felt quite unable to exercise to keep warm. the yakuts, with nicolai, huddled among the dogs, and were less wearied than i. when they shouted to me at daybreak, i slowly opened my eyes, and found that i could not move. i was frozen fast to the ice! "had i been alone there would have been no escape. my companions came to my relief, but it was with much difficulty that they freed me from my unpleasant situation. when we looked about, we found that our circumstances had greatly changed during the night. the wind had ceased, and the frost had formed fresh ice over the space where there was open water the day before. it was out of the question to ferry to land, and our only hope lay in driving the sledges over the new ice. i ordered the teams to be made ready, and to keep several hundred yards apart, so as to make as little weight as possible on one spot. i took one sledge, nicolai another, and the yakuts the third. our fourth sledge was lost at the time of our accident the day before. [illustration: the team.] "our plan was to drive at full speed, to lessen the danger of breaking through. once through the ice, there would have been no hope for us. we urged the dogs forward with loud cries, and they responded to our wishes by exerting all their strength. we went forward at a gallop. i reached the shore in safety, and so did nicolai, but not so the poor yakuts. "when within a mile of the land i heard a cry. i well knew what it meant, but i could give no assistance, as a moment's pause would have seen me breaking through our frail support. i did not even dare to look around, but continued shouting to the dogs to carry them to land. once there, i wiped the perspiration from my face, and ventured to look over the track where i came. "the weight of the two men upon one sledge had crushed the ice, and men, dogs and sledge had fallen into the water. unable to serve them in the least, we watched till their struggles were ended, and then turned sorrowfully away. the ice closed over them, and the bed of the arctic ocean became their grave." chapter xlii. in the morning after our departure from krasnoyarsk we reached a third station, and experienced no delay in changing horses. the road greatly improved, but we made slow progress. when we were about two versts from the station one of our horses left the sleigh and bolted homeward. the yemshick went in pursuit, but did not overtake the runaway till he reached the station. during his absence we sat patiently, or rather impatiently, in our furs, and i improved the opportunity to go to sleep. when we wore properly reconstructed we moved forward, with my equipage in the rear. the mammoth sleigh went at a disreputably low speed. i endeavored to persuade our yemshick to take the lead, but he refused, on the ground that the smotretal would not permit it. added to this, he stopped frequently to make pretended arrangements of the harness, where he imagined it out of order. to finish my irritation at his manoeuvres, he proposed to change with a yemshick he met about half way on his route. this would bring each to his own station at the end of the drive, and save a return trip. the man had been so dilatory and obstinate that i concluded to take my opportunity, and stubbornly refused permission for the change. this so enraged him that he drove very creditably for the rest of the way. "both of them jews," he said to the attendants at the station when we arrived. his theory as to our character was something like this. of the male travelers in siberia there are practically but two classes--officers and merchants. we could not be officers, as we wore no uniform; therefore we were merchants. the trading class in siberia comprises russians of pure blood and jews, the former speaking only their own language and never using any other. as the yemshick did not understand our conversation, he at once set us down as israelites in whom there was any quantity of guile. we breakfasted on pilmania, bread, and tea while the horses were being changed, and i managed to increase our bill of fare with some boiled eggs. the continual jolting and the excessive cold gave me a good appetite and excellent digestion. our food was plain and not served as at delmonico's, but i always found it palatable. we stopped twice a day for meals, and the long interval between dinner time and breakfast generally made me ravenously hungry by morning. the village where the obstinate yemshick left us, had a bad reputation on the scale of honesty, but we suffered no loss there. at another village said to contain thieves, we did not leave the sleigh. about noon we met a convoy of exiles moving slowly along the snowy road. the prisoners were walking in double column, but without regularity and not attempting to 'keep step.' two soldiers with muskets and fixed bayonets marched in front and two others brought up the rear. there were thirty or more prisoners, all clad in sheepskin garments, their heads covered with russian hoods, and their hands thrust into heavy mittens. behind the column there were four or five sleighs containing baggage and foot-sore prisoners, half a dozen soldiers, and two women. the extreme rear was finished by two soldiers, with muskets and fixed bayonets, riding on an open sledge. the rate of progress was regulated by the soldiers at the head of the column. most of the prisoners eyed us as we drove past, but there were several who did not look up. at nearly every village there is an _ostrog_, or prison, for the accommodation of exiles. it is a building, or several buildings, enclosed with a palisade or other high fence. inside its strong gate one cannot easily escape, and i believe the attempt is rarely made. generally the rooms or buildings nearest the gate are the residences of the officers and guards, the prisoners being lodged as far as possible from the point of egress. the distance from one station to the next varies according to the location of the villages, but is usually about twenty versts. generally the ostrog is outside the village, but not far away. the people throughout siberia display unvarying kindness to exiles on their march. when a convoy reaches a village the inhabitants bring whatever they can spare, whether of food or money, and either deliver it to the prisoners in the street or carry it to the ostrog. many peasants plant little patches of turnips and beets, where runaway prisoners may help themselves at night without danger of interference if discovered by the owner. in every party of exiles, each man takes his turn for a day in asking and receiving charity, the proceeds being for the common good. in front of my quarters in irkutsk a party of prisoners were engaged several days in setting posts. one of the number accosted every passer by, and when he received any thing the prisoners near him echoed his 'thank you.' many couples were engaged, under guard, in carrying water from the river to the prison. one man of each couple solicited 'tobacco money' for both. the soldiers make no objection to charity toward prisoners. i frequently observed that when any person approached with the evident intention of giving something to the water carriers, the guards halted to facilitate the donation. very often on my sleigh ride i met convoys of exiles. on one occasion as we were passing an ostrog the gate suddenly opened, and a dozen sleighs laden with prisoners emerged and drove rapidly to the eastward. five-sixths of the exiles i met on the road were riding, and did not appear to suffer from cold. they were well wrapped in sheepskin clothing, and seated, generally three together, in the ordinary sleighs of the country. formerly most exiles walked the entire distance from moscow to their destination, but of late years it has been found better economy to allow them to ride. only certain classes of criminals are now required to go on foot. all other offenders, including 'politiques,' are transported in vehicles at government expense. any woman can accompany or follow her husband into exile. those on foot go from one station to the next for a day's march. they travel two days and rest one, and unless for special reasons, are not required to break the sabbath. medical officers are stationed in the principal towns, to look after the sanitary condition of the emigrants. the object being to people the country, the government takes every reasonable care that the exiles do not suffer in health while on the road. of course those that ride do not require as much rest as the pedestrians. they usually stop at night at the ostrogs, and travel about twelve or fourteen hours a day. distinguished offenders, such as the higher class of revolutionists, officers convicted of plotting against the state or robbing the treasury, are generally rushed forward night and day. to keep him secure from escape, an exile of this class is sometimes chained to a soldier who rides at his side. one night, between irkutsk and krasnoyarsk, i was awakened by an unusual motion of the sleigh. we were at the roadside passing a column of men who marched slowly in our direction. as i lifted our curtain and saw the undulating line of dark forms moving silently in the dim starlight, and brought into relief against the snow hills, the scene appeared something more than terrestrial. i thought of the array of spectres that beleaguered the walls of prague, if we may trust the bohemian legend, and of the shadowy battalions described by the old poets of norseland, in the days when fairies dwelt in fountains, and each valley was the abode of a good or evil spirit. but my fancies were cut short by my companion briefly informing me that we were passing a convoy of prisoners recently ordered from irkutsk to yeneseisk. it was the largest convoy i saw during my journey, and included, as i thought, not less than two hundred men. in the afternoon of the first day from krasnoyarsk we reached achinsk, a town of two or three thousand inhabitants, on the bank of the chulim river. we were told the road was so bad as to require four horses to each sleigh to the next station. we consented to pay for a horse additional to the three demanded by our padaroshnia, and were carried along at very good speed. part of the way was upon the ice, which had formed during a wind, that left disagreeable ridges. we picked out the best places, and had not our horses slipped occasionally, the icy road would not have been unpleasant. on the bare ground which we traversed in occasional patches after leaving the river, the horses behaved admirably and made little discrimination between sand and snow. whenever they lagged the yemshick lashed them into activity. i observed in siberia that whip cracking is not fashionable. the long, slender, snapping whips of western europe and america are unknown. the siberian uses a short stock with a lash of hemp, leather, or other flexible substance, but never dreams of a snapper at its end. its only use is for whipping purposes, and a practiced yemshick can do much with it in a short time. the russian drivers talk a great deal to their horses, and the speech they use depends much upon the character and performance of the animals. if the horse travels well he may be called the dove or brother of his driver, and assured that there is abundance of excellent hay awaiting him at home. sometimes a neat hint is given that he is drawing a nice gentleman who will be liberal and enable the horse to have an extra feed. sometimes the man rattles off his words as if the brute understood everything said to him. an obstinate or lazy horse is called a variety of names the reverse of endearing. i have heard him addressed as '_sabaka_,' (dog); and on frequent occasions his maternity was ascribed to the canine race in epithets quite disrespectful. horses came in for an amount of profanity about like that showered upon army mules in america. it used to look a little out of place to see a yemshick who had shouted _chort!_ and other unrefined expressions to his team, devoutly crossing himself before a holy picture as soon as his beasts were unharnessed. a few versts from achinsk we crossed the boundary between eastern and western siberia. the chulim is navigable up to achinsk, and during the past two years steamers have been running between this town and tomsk. the basin of the ob contains nearly as many navigable streams as that of the mississippi, and were it not for the severity of the climate, the long winter, and the northerly course of the great river, this valley might easily develop much wealth. but nature is unfavorable, and man is powerless to change her laws. on changing at the station we again took four horses to each sleigh, and were glad we did so. the ground was more bare as we proceeded, and obliged us to leave the high road altogether and seek a track wherever it could be found. while we were dashing through a mass of rocks and stumps one of our horses fell dead, and brought us to a sudden halt. in his fall he became entangled with the others, and it required some minutes to set matters right. the yemshick felt for the pulse of the beast until fully satisfied that no pulse existed. happily we were not far from a station, so that the reduction of our team was of no serious consequence. in this region i observed cribs like roofless log houses placed near the roadside at intervals of a few hundred yards. they were intended to hold materials for repairing the road. on the upper waters of the chulim there is a cascade of considerable beauty, according to the statement of some who never saw it. a few years ago a siberian gold miner discovered a cataract on the river hook, in the irkutsk government, that he thought equal to niagara, and engaged an artist to make a drawing of the curiosity. on reaching the spot, the latter individual found the cascade a very small affair. throughout russia, niagara is considered one of the great wonders of the world, and nothing could have been more pleasing to the siberians than to find its rival in their own country. when i first began traveling in siberia a gentleman one day expressed the hope of seeing america before long, but added, "much pleasure of my visit will be lacking now that you have lost niagara." i could not understand him, and asked an explanation. "why," said he, "since niagara has been worn away to a continuous rapid it must have lost all its grandeur and sublimity. i shall go there, but i cannot enjoy it as i should have enjoyed the great cataract." i explained that niagara was as perfect as ever, and had no indication of wearing itself away. it appeared that some russian newspaper, misled, i presume, by the fall of table rock, announced that the whole precipice had broken down and left a long rapid in place of the cataract. several times during my journey i was called upon to correct this impression. at the third station beyond achinsk we found a neat and well kept room for travelers. we concluded to dine there, and were waited upon by a comely young woman whose _coiffure_ showed that she was unmarried. she brought us the samovar, cooked our pilmania, and boiled a dizaine of eggs. among the russians articles which we count by the dozen are enumerated by tens. "_skolka stoit, yieetsa_?" (how much do eggs cost), was generally answered, "_petnatzet capecka, decetu_" (fifteen copecks for ten.) only among the western nations one finds the dozen in use. while we were at dinner the cold sensibly increased, and on exposing my thermometer i found it marking - ° fahrenheit. schmidt wrapped himself in all his furs, and i followed his example. thus enveloped we filled the entire breadth of our sleigh and could not turn over with facility. a sharp wind was blowing dead ahead, and we closed the front of the vehicle to exclude it. the snow whirled in little eddies and made its way through the crevices at the junction of our sleigh-boot with the hood. i wrapped a blanket in front of my face for special protection, and soon managed to fall asleep. the sleigh poising on a runner and out-rigger, caused the doctor to roll against me during the first hour of my slumber, and made me dream that i was run over by a locomotive. when i waked i found my breath had congealed and frozen my beard to the blanket. it required careful manipulation to separate the two without injury to either. when we stopped to change horses after this experience, the stars were sparkling with a brilliancy peculiar to the northern sky. the clear starlight, unaided by the moon, enabled us to see with great distinctness. i could discover the outline of the forest away beyond the village, and trace the road to the edge of a valley where it disappeared. every individual star appeared endeavoring to outshine his rivals, and cast his rays to the greatest distance. vesta, sirius, and many others burned with a brightness that recalled my first view of the drummond light, and seemed to dazzle my eyes when i fixed my gaze upon them. the road during the night was rough but respectable, and we managed to enjoy a fair amount of slumber in our contracted _chambre a deux_. before daylight we reached a station where a traveling bishop had just secured two sets of horses. though outside the jurisdiction of general korsackoff, i exhibited my special passport knowing it could not, at all events, do any harm. out of courtesy the smotretal offered to supply us as soon as the bishop departed. the reverend worthy was dilatory in starting, and as we were likely to be delayed an hour or two, we economized the time by taking tea. i found opportunity for a short nap after our tea-drinking was over, and only awoke when the smotretal announced, "_loshadi gotovey"_ in the forenoon we entered upon the steppe where trees were few and greatly scattered. frequently the vision over this siberian prairie was uninterrupted for several miles. there was a thin covering of snow on the open ground, and the dead grass peered above the surface with a suggestion of summer fertility. shortly after noon i looked through the eddies of snow that whirled in the frosty air, and distinguished the outline of a church. another and another followed, and very soon the roofs and walls of the more prominent buildings in tomsk were visible. as we entered the eastern gate of the city, and passed a capacious powder-magazine, our yemshick tied up his bell-tongues in obedience to the municipal law. our arrival inside the city limits was marked by the most respectful silence. we named a certain hotel but the yemshick coolly took us to another which he assured us was "_acleechny_" (excellent). as the exterior and the appearance of the servants promised fairly, we made no objection, and allowed our baggage unloaded. the last i saw of our yemshick he was receiving a subsidy from the landlord in consideration of having taken us thither. the doctor said the establishment was better than the one he first proposed to patronize, so that we had no serious complaint against the management of the affair. hotel keepers in siberia are obliged to pay a commission to whoever brings them patrons, a practice not unknown, i believe, in american cities. we engaged two rooms, one large, and the other of medium size. the larger apartment contained two sofas, ten or twelve chairs, three tables, a boy, a bedstead, and a chamber-maid. the boy and the maid disappeared with a quart or so of dirt they had swept from the floor. we ordered dinner, and took our ease in our inn. our baggage piled in one corner of the room would have made a creditable stock for an operator in the "elbow market" at moscow. we thawed our beards, washed, changed our clothing, and pretended we felt none the worse for our jolting over the rough road from krasnoyarsk. the hotel, though asiatic, was kept on the european plan. the landlord demanded our passports before we removed our outer garments, and apologized by saying the regulations were very strict. the documents went at once to the police, and returned in the morning with the visa of the chief. throughout russia a hotel proprietor generally keeps the passports of his patrons until their bills are paid, but this landlord trusted in our honor, and returned the papers at once. the visa certified there were no charges against us, pecuniary or otherwise, and allowed us to remain or depart at our pleasure. it is a russian custom for the police to be informed of claims against persons suspected of intent to run away. the individual cannot obtain authority to depart until his accounts are settled. formerly the law required every person, native and foreign, about to leave russia, to advertise his intention through a newspaper. this formula is now dispensed with, but the intending traveler must produce a receipt in full from his hotel keeper. at the hotel we found a gentleman from eastern siberia on his way to st. petersburg. he left irkutsk two days behind me, passed us in krasnoyarsk, and came to grief in a partial overturn five miles from tomsk. he was waiting to have his broken vehicle thoroughly repaired before venturing on the steppe. he had a single vashok in which he stowed himself, wife, three children, and a governess. how the whole party could be packed into the carriage i was at a loss to imagine. its limits must have been suggestive of the close quarters of a can of sardines. we used our furs for bed clothing and slept on the sofas, less comfortably i must confess than in the sleigh. the close atmosphere of a russian house is not as agreeable to my lungs as the open air, and after a long journey one's first night in a warm room is not refreshing. there was no public table at the hotel; meals were served in our room, and each item was charged separately at prices about like those of irkutsk. in the morning we put on our best clothes, and visited the gubernatorial mansion. the governor was at st. petersburg, and we were received by the vice-governor, an amiable gentleman of about fifty years, who reminded me of general s.r. curtis. before our interview we waited ten or fifteen minutes at one end of a large hall. the vice-governor was at the other end listening to a woman whose streaming eyes and choked utterance showed that her story was one of grief. the kind hearted man appeared endeavoring to soothe her. i could not help hearing the conversation though ignorant of its purport, and, as the scene closed, i thought i had not known before the extent of pathos in the russian language. we had a pleasant interview with the vice-governor who gave us passports to barnaool, on learning that we wished to visit that place. among those who called during our stay was the golovah of tomsk, a man whose physical proportions resembled those of the renowned wouter van twiller, as described by washington irving. every golovah i met in siberia was of aldermanic proportions, and i wondered whether physical developments had any influence in selections for this office. just before leaving the governor's residence, we were introduced to mr. naschinsky, of barnaool, to whom i had a letter of introduction from his cousin, paul anossoff. as he was to start for home that evening, we arranged to accompany him. our visit ended, we drove through the principal streets, and saw the chief features of the town. tomsk takes its name from the river tom, on whose banks it is built. it stands on the edge of the great baraba steppe, and has about twenty thousand inhabitants of the usual varied character of a russian population. i saw many fine houses, and was told that in society and wealth the city was little inferior to irkutsk. here, as at other places, large fortunes have been made in gold mining. several heavy capitalists were mentioned as owners of concessions in the mining districts. many of their laborers passed the winter at tomsk in the delights of urban life. the city is of considerable importance as it controls much of the commerce of siberia. the site is picturesque, being partly on the low ground next the river, and partly on the hills above it. in contemplating the location, i was reminded of quebec. i found much activity in the streets and market places, and good assortments of merchandise in the shops. near our hotel, over a wide ravine, was a bridge, constantly traversed by vehicles and pedestrians, and lighted at night by a double row of lamps. some long buildings near the river, and just outside the principal market had a likeness to american railway stations, and the quantities of goods piled on their verandas aided the illusion. about noon the market-place was densely crowded, and there appeared a brisk traffic in progress. there was a liberal array of articles to eat, wear, or use, with a very fair quantity for which no use could be imagined. in summer there is a waterway from tomsk to tumen, a thousand miles to the westward, and a large amount of freight to and from siberia passes over it. steamers descend the tom to the ob, which they follow to the irtish. they then ascend the irtish, the tobol, and the tura to tumen, the head of navigation. the government proposes a railway between perm and tumen to unite the great water courses of europe and siberia. a railway from tomsk to irkutsk is among the things hoped for by the siberians, and will be accomplished at some future day. the arguments urged against its construction are the length of the route, the sparseness of population, and the cheap rates at which freight is now transported. probably siberia would be no exception to the rule that railways create business, and sustain it, but i presume it will be many years before the locomotive has a permanent way through the country. some years ago it was proposed to open a complete water route between tumen and kiachta. the most eastern point that a steamer could attain in the valley of the ob is on the river ket. a canal about thirty miles long would connect the ket with the yenesei, whence it was proposed to follow the angara, lake baikal, and the selenga to oust kiachta. but the swiftness of the angara, and its numerous rapids, seventy-eight in all, stood in the way of the project. at present no steamers can ascend the angara, and barges can only descend when the water is high. to make the channel safely navigable would require a heavy outlay of money for blasting rocks, and digging canals. i could not ascertain that there was any probability of the scheme being realized. in twelve steamers were running between tumen and tomsk. these boats draw about two feet of water, and tow one or more barges in which freight is piled. no merchandise is carried on the boats. twelve days are consumed in the voyage with barges; without them it can be made in a week. all the steamers yet constructed are for towing purposes, the passenger traffic not being worth attention. the golovah of tomsk is a heavy owner in these steamboats, and he proposed increasing their number and enlarging his business. a line of smaller boats has been started to connect tomsk with achinsk. the introduction of steam on the siberian rivers has given an impetus to commerce, and revealed the value of certain interests of the country. an active competition in the same direction would prove highly beneficial, and bye and bye they will have the railway. during my ride about the streets the isvoshchik pointed out a large building, and explained that it was the seminary or high school of tomsk. i was told that the city, like irkutsk, had a female school or "institute," and an establishment for educating the children of the priests. the schools in the cities and large towns of siberia have a good reputation, and receive much praise from those who patronize them. the institute at irkutsk is especially renowned, and had during the winter of something more than a hundred boarding pupils. the gymnasium or school for boys was equally flourishing, and under the direct control of the superintendent of public instruction for eastern siberia. the branches of education comprise the ordinary studies of schools everywhere--arithmetic, grammar, and geography, with reading and writing. when these elementary studies are mastered the higher mathematics, languages, music, and painting follow. in the primary course the prayers of the church and the manner of crossing one's self are considered essential. most of those who can afford it employ private teachers for their children, and educate them at home. the large schools in the towns are patronized by the upper and middle classes, and sometimes pupils come from long distances. there are schools for the peasant children, but not sufficiently numerous to make education general. it is a lamentable fact that the peasants as a class do not appreciate the importance of knowledge. hitherto all these peasant schools have been controlled by the church, the subordinate priests being appointed to their management. quite recently the emperor has ordered a system of public instruction throughout the empire. schools are to be established, houses built, and teachers paid by the government. education is to be taken entirely from, the hands of the priests, and entrusted to the best qualified instructors without regard to race or religion. the common school house in the land of the czars! universal education among the subjects of the autocrat! well may the other monarchies of europe fear the growing power and intelligence of russia. may god bless alexander, and preserve him many years to the people whose prosperity he holds so dearly at heart. [illustration: tail piece] chapter xliii. when we left tomsk in the evening, the snow was falling rapidly, and threatened to obliterate the track along the frozen surface of the river. there were no post horses at the station, and we were obliged to charter private teams at double the usual rates. the governor warned us that we might have trouble in securing horses, and requested us to refer to him if the smotretal did not honor our pada ashnia. we did not wish to trespass further on his kindness, and concluded to submit to the extortion and say nothing. the station keeper owned the horses we hired, and we learned he was accustomed to declare his regular troikas "out" on all possible occasions. of course, a traveler anxious to proceed, would not hesitate long at paying two or three roubles extra. we dashed over the rough ice of the tom for a few versts and then found a road on solid earth. we intended to visit barnaool, and for this purpose left the great road at the third station, and turned southward. the falling snow beat so rapidly into our sleigh that we closed the vehicle and ignored the outer world. mr. naschinsky started with us from tomsk, but after a few stations he left us and hurried away at courier speed toward barnaool. he proved an _avant courier_ for us, and warned the station masters of our approach, so that we found horses ready. on this side road the contract requires but three troikas at a station. three sleighs together were an unusual number, so that the smotretals generally obtained one or both our teams from the village. on the last half of the route the yemshicks did not take us to the stations but to the houses of their friends where we promptly obtained horses at the regular rates. the peasants between tomsk and barnaool own many horses, and are pleased at the opportunity to earn a little cash with them. snow, darkness, and slumber prevented our seeing much of the road during the night. in the morning, i found we were traveling through an undulating and generally wooded country, occasionally crossing rivers and small lakes on the ice. the track was a wonderful improvement over that between tomsk and krasnoyarsk. the stations or peasant houses where we changed horses, were not as good as those on the great road. the rooms were frequently small and heated to an uncomfortable degree. in one house, notwithstanding the great heat, several children were seated on the top of the stove, and apparently enjoying themselves. the yemshicks and attendants were less numerous than on the great road, but we could find no fault with their service. on one course of twenty versts our sleigh was driven by a boy of thirteen, though seemingly not more than ten. he handled the whip and reins with the skill of a veteran, and earned an extra gratuity from his passengers. the road was marked by upright poles ten or twelve feet high at distances of one or two hundred feet. there were distance posts with the usual black and white alternations, but the figures were generally indistinct, and many posts were altogether wanting. on the main road through the whole length of siberia, there is a post at every verst, marking in large numbers the distance to the first station on either side of it. at the stations there are generally posts that show the distance to moscow, st. petersburg, and the provincial or 'government' capitals on either side. for a long time i could never rid myself of a sensation of 'goneness' when i read the figures indicating the distance to st. petersburg. above seven thousand they were positively frightful; between six and seven thousand, they were disagreeable to say the least. among the five thousand and odd versts, i began to think matters improving, and when i descended below four thousand, i felt as if in my teens. the proverb says, "a watched pot never boils." i can testify that these distance figures diminished very slowly, and sometimes they seemed to remain nearly the same from day to day. the snow storm that began when we left tomsk, continued through the night and the following day. the air was warm, and there was little wind, so that our principal inconvenience was from the snow flakes in our faces, and the gradual filling of the road. toward sunset a wind arose. every hour it increased, and before midnight there was good prospect of our losing our way or being compelled to halt until daybreak. the snow whirled in thick masses through the air, and utterly blinded us when we attempted to look out. the road filled with drifts, and we had much difficulty in dragging through them. the greatest personal inconvenience was the sifting of snow through the crevices of our sleigh cover. at every halt we underwent a vigorous shaking to remove the superfluous snow from our furs. a storm with high winds in this region takes the name of _bouran_. it is analogous to the _poorga_ of northeastern siberia and kamchatka, and may occur at any season of the year. bourans are oftentimes very violent, especially in the open steppe. any one who has experienced the norther of texas, or the _bora_ of southern austria, can form an idea of these siberian storms. the worst are when the thermometer sinks to twenty-five degrees or more below zero, and the snow is dashed about with terrific fury. at such times they are almost insupportable, and the traveler who ventures to face them runs great risk of his life. many persons have been lost in the winter storms, and all experienced voyagers are reluctant to brave their violence. in summer the wind spends its force on the earth and sand which it whirls in large clouds. a gentleman told me he had seen the dry bed of a river where there were two feet of sand, swept clean to the rock by the strength of the wind alone. a little past daylight the sleigh came to a sudden stop despite the efforts of all concerned. the last hundred versts of our ride we had four horses to each sleigh, and their united strength was not more than sufficient for our purpose. the drift where we stopped was at least three feet deep, and pretty closely packed. we, that is to say, the horses and yemshicks, made several efforts but could not carry the sleigh through. the mammoth sleigh came up and the two yemshicks trod a path through the worst part of the drift. the doctor and i descended from the vehicle, and assisted by looking on. the sleigh thus lightened, was dragged through the obstruction but unfortunately turned on its beam ends, and filled with snow before it could be righted. the bouran was from the south, and raised the temperature above the freezing point. the increasing heat became uncomfortable after the cold i had experienced. the horses did not turn white from perspiration as in colder days, and the exertion of travel set them panting as in summer. the drivers carefully knotted their (the horses') tails to prevent them (the tails) from filling with snow, but the precaution was not entirely successful. the snow was of the right consistency for a school boy's frolic, and would have thrown a group of american urchins into ecstacies. whenever our pace quickened to a trot or gallop, the larboard horse threw a great many snowballs with his feet. he seemed to aim at my face, and every few minutes i received what the prize ring would call 'plumpers in the peeper, and sockdolagers on the potato-trap.' we drove into barnaool about forty-four hours after leaving tomsk. at the hotel we found three rooms containing chairs and tables in profusion, but not a bed or sofa. of course we were expected to supply our own bedding, and need not be particular about a bedstead. the worst part of the affair was the wet condition of our furs. my sheepskin sleigh robe was altogether too damp for use, and i sent it to be dried in the kitchen. several of my fur garments went the same way. even my shooba, which i carried in a bag, had a feeling of dampness when i unfolded it, and in fact the only dry things about us, were our throats. we set things drying as best we could, and then ordered dinner. before our sleighs were unloaded, a policeman took our passports and saved us all trouble of going to the station. in the evening i accompanied dr. schmidt on a visit to a friend and fellow member of the academy of science. we found a party of six or eight persons, and, as soon as i was introduced, a gentleman despatched a servant to his house. the man returned with a roll of sheet music from which our host's daughter favored us with the "star spangled banner," and "hail columbia," as a greeting to the first american visitor to barnaool. on our return to our lodgings we made our beds on the floor, and slept comfortably. the dampness of the furs developed a rheumatic pain in my shoulder that stiffened me somewhat inconveniently. we breakfasted upon cakes and tea at a late hour in the morning, and then went to pay our respects to general freeze, the nachalnik or director of mines, and to colonel filoff, chief of the smelting works. both these officers were somewhat past the middle age, quiet and affable, and each enjoyed himself in coloring a meerschaum. they have been engaged in mining matters during many years, and are said to be thoroughly versed in their profession. after visiting these gentlemen we called upon other official and civilian residents of the city. barnaool is the center of direction of the mining enterprises of the altai mountains, and has a population of ten or twelve thousand. almost its entire business is in someway connected with mining affairs, and there are many engineer officers constantly stationed there. i met some of these gentlemen during my stay, and was indebted to them for information concerning the manner of working mines and reducing ores. the city contains a handsome array of public buildings, including the mining bureau, the hospital, and the zavod or smelting establishment. general freeze, the nachalnik, is director and chief, not only of the city but of the entire mining district of which barnaool is the center. the first discoveries of precious metals in the altai regions were made by one of the demidoffs who was sent there by peter the great. a monument in the public square at barnaool records his services, in ever during brass. i was shown an autograph letter from the empress elizabeth giving directions to the nachalnik who controlled the mines during her reign. the letter is kept in an ivory box on the table around which the mining board holds its sessions. the mines of this region are the personal property of the emperor, and their revenues go directly to the crown. i was told that the government desires to sell or give these mines into private hands, in the belief that the resources of the country would be more thoroughly developed. the day before my departure from barnaool, i learned that my visit had reference to the possible purchase of the mining works by an american company. i hastened to assure my informant that i had no intention of buying the altai mountains or any part of them. the nachalnik visits all mines and smelting works in his district at least once a year, and is constantly in receipt of detailed reports of operations in progress. his power is almost despotic, and like the governors of departments throughout all siberia, he can manage affairs pretty much in his own way. there are no convict laborers in his district, the workmen at the mines and zavods being peasants subject to the orders of government. each man in the district may be called upon to work for the emperor at fixed wages of money and rations. i believe the daily pay of a laborer is somewhat less than forty copecks. a compromise for saints days and other festivals is made by employing the men only two weeks out of three. relays are so arranged as to make no stoppage of the works except during the christmas holidays. i saw many sheets of the geological map of the altai region, which has been a long time in preparation, and will require several years to complete. every mountain, hill, brook, and valley is laid down by careful surveyors, and when the map is finished it will be one of the finest and best in the world. one corps is engaged in surveying and mapping while another explores and opens mines. when the snows are melted in the spring, and the floods have receeded from the streams, the exploring parties are sent into the mountains. each officer has a particular valley assigned him, and commands a well equipped body of men. he is expected to remain in the mountains until he has finished his work, or until compelled to leave by the approach of winter. the party procures meat from game, of which there is nearly always an abundant supply. holes are dug at regular intervals, on the system i have already described in the mines of the yenesei. the rocks in and around the valley are carefully examined for traces of silver, and many specimens have been collected for the geological cabinet at barnaool. maps are made showing the locality of each test hole in the valley, and the spot whence every specimen of rock is obtained. on the return of the party its reports and specimens are delivered to the mining bureau. the ores go to the laboratory to be assayed, and the specimens of rock are carefully sorted and examined. gold washings are conducted on the general plan of those in the yeneseisk government, the details varying according to circumstances. a representation of the principal silver mine--somewhat on the plan of barnum's "niagara with real water"--was shown me in the museum. in general features the mines are not materially unlike silver mines elsewhere. there are shafts, adits, and levels just as in the mines of colorado and california. the russians give the name of _priesk_ to a mine where gold is washed from the earth. the silver mine with its shafts in the solid rock is called a _roodnik._ as before stated, the word _zavod_ is applied to foundries, smelting works, and manufactories in general. colonel filoff invited the doctor and myself to visit the zavod at barnaool on the second day after our arrival. as he spoke no language with which i was familiar, the colonel placed me in charge of a young officer fluent in french, who took great pains to explain the _modus operandi_. the zavod is on a grand scale, and employs about six hundred laborers. it is enclosed in a large yard with high walls, and reminded me of a pennsylvania iron foundry or the establishment just below detroit. a sentry at the gate presented arms as we passed, and i observed that the rule of no admittance except on business was rigidly enforced. [illustration: in the mine.] in the yard we were first taken to piles of ore which appeared to an unpracticed eye like heaps of old mortar and broken granite. these piles were near a stream which furnishes power for moving the machinery of the establishment. the ore was exposed to the air and snow, but the coal for smelting was carefully housed. there were many sheds for storage within easy distance of the furnaces. the latter were of brick with tall and substantial chimneys, and the outer walls that surrounded the whole were heavily and strongly built. charcoal is burned in consequence of the cheapness and abundance of wood. i was told that an excellent quality of stove coal existed in the vicinity, and would be used whenever it proved most economical. nearly all the ore contains copper, silver, and lead, while the rest is deficient in the last named article. the first kind is smelted without the addition of lead, and sometimes passes through six or seven reductions. for the ore containing only copper and silver the process by evaporation of lead is employed. formerly the lead was brought from nerchinsk or purchased in england, the land transport in either case being very expensive. several years ago lead was found in the altai mountains, and the supply is now sufficient for all purposes. the lead absorbs the silver, and leaves the copper in the refuse matter. this was formerly thrown away, but by a newly invented process the copper is extracted and saved. the production of silver in the altai mines is about a thousand and fifty poods annually, or forty thousand pounds avoirdupois. the silver is cast into bars or cakes about ten inches square, and weighing from seventy to a hundred pounds each. colonel filoff showed us into the room where the silver is stored. two soldiers were on guard and six or eight others rested outside. a sergeant brought a sealed box which contained the key of the safe. first the box and then the safe were opened at the colonel's order, and when we had satisfied our curiosity, the safe was locked and the key restored to its place of deposit. the colonel carried the seal that closed the box, and the sergeant was responsible for the integrity of the wax. the cakes had a dull hue, somewhat lighter than that of lead, and were of a convenient shape for handling. each cake had its weight, and value, and result of assay stamped upon it, and i was told that it was assayed again at st. petersburg to guard against the algebraic process of substitution. about thirty poods of gold are extracted from every thousand poods of silver after the treasure reaches st. petersburg. the silver is extracted from the lead used to absorb it, the latter being again employed while the former goes on its long journey to the banks of the neva. the ore continues to pass through successive reductions until a pood of it contains no more than three-fourths a zolotink of silver; less than that proportion will not pay expenses. i was told that the annual cost of working the mines equaled the value of the silver produced. the gold contained in the silver is the only item of profit to the crown. about thirty thousand poods of copper are produced annually in this district, but none of the copper zavods are at barnaool. [illustration: strange coincidence.] all gold produced from the mines of siberia, with the exception of that around nerchinsk, is sent to barnaool to be smelted. this work is performed, in a room about fifteen feet square, the furnaces being fixed in its centre like parlor stoves of unusual size. the smelting process continues four months of each year, and during this time about twelve hundred poods of gold are melted and cast into bars. this work, for , was finished a few days before my arrival, and the furnaces were utterly devoid of heat. in the yard at the zavod, i saw a dozen or more sleds, and on each of them there was an iron-bound box filled with bars of gold. this train was ready to leave under strong guard for st. petersburg. the morning after my visit to the zavod it was reported that a soldier guarding the sled train had been killed during the night. the incident was a topic of conversation for the rest of my stay, but i obtained no clear account of the affair. all agreed that a sentinel was murdered, and one of the boxes plundered of several bars of gold, but beyond this there were conflicting statements. it was the first occurrence of the kind at barnaool, and naturally excited the peaceful inhabitants. the doctor trusted that the affair would not be associated with our visit, and i quite agreed with him. it is to be hoped that the future historian of barnaool will not mention, the murder and robbery in the same paragraph with the distinguished arrival of dr. schmidt and an american traveler. the rich miners send their gold once a year to barnaool, the poorer ones twice a year. those in pressing need of money receive certificates of deposit as soon as their gold is cast into bars, and on these certificates they can obtain cash at the government banks. the opulent miners remain content till their gold reaches the capital, and is coined. four or six months may thus elapse after gold has left barnaool before its owner obtains returns. [illustration: tail piece.] chapter xliv. the society of barnaool consists of the mining and other officers, with a larger proportion of families than at irkutsk. it had a more quiet and reserved character than the capital of eastern siberia, but was not the less social and hospitable. many young officers of the mining and topographical departments pass their summers in the mountains and their winters in barnaool. the cold season is therefore the gayest, and abounds in balls, parties, concerts, and amateur theatricals. the former theatre has been converted into a club-room. there is a good proportion, for a siberian town, of elegant and luxuriant houses. the furniture and adornments were quite as extensive as at irkutsk or tomsk, and several houses that i visited would have been creditable in moscow or st. petersburg. it is no little wonder to find all the comforts and luxuries of russian life in the southern part of siberia, on the borders of the kirghese steppes. the large and well arranged museum contained more than i could even glance over in a single day. there were models of machines used in gold-washing, quartz mills fifty years old, and almost identical with those of the present day; models of furnaces and zavods in various parts of siberia, and full delineations of the principal silver mines of the altai. there was a curious steam engine, said to have been made at barnaool in , and used for blowing the furnaces. i saw a fine collection of minerals, birds, beasts, and other curiosities of the altai. particular attention was called to the stuffed skins of two enormous tigers that were killed several years ago in the southern part of the district. one of them fell after a long fight, in which he killed one of his assailants and wounded two others. the museum contains several dead specimens of the bearcoot, or eagle of the altai. i saw a living bird of this species at the house of an acquaintance. the bearcoot is larger than the american eagle, and possesses strength enough to kill a deer or wolf with perfect ease. dr. duhmberg, superintendent of the hospitals, told me of an experiment with poison upon one of these birds. he began by giving half a grain of _curavar_, a poison from south america. it had no perceptible effect, the appetite and conduct of the bird being unchanged. a week later he gave four grains of strychnine, and saw the bird's feathers tremble fifteen minutes after the poison was swallowed. five hours later the patient was in convulsions, but his head was not affected, and he recovered strength and appetite on the next day. a week later the bearcoot swallowed seven grains of curavar, and showed no change for two days. on the second evening he went into convulsions, and died during the night. the kirghese tame these eagles and employ them in hunting. a gentleman who had traveled among the kirghese told me he had seen a bearcoot swoop down upon a full grown deer and kill him in a few minutes. sometimes when a pack of wolves has killed and begun eating a deer, the feast will be interrupted by a pair of bearcoots. two birds will attack a dozen wolves, and either kill or drive them away. barnaool is quite near the kirghese steppes. one of my acquaintances had a kirghese coachman, a tall, well formed man, with thick lips and a coppery complexion. i established a friendship with this fellow, and arranged that he should sit for his portrait, but somehow he was never ready. he brought me two of his kindred, and i endeavored to persuade the group to be photographed. there was a superstition among them that it would be detrimental to their post mortem repose if they allowed their likenesses on this earth when they themselves should leave it. i offered them one, two, three, and even five roubles, but they stubbornly refused. their complexions were dark, and their whole physiognomy revealed the tartar blood. they wore the russian winter dress, but had their own costume for state occasions. in this part of siberia kirghese are frequently found in russian employ, and are said to be generally faithful and industrious. a considerable number find employment at the altai mines, and a great many are engaged in taking cattle and sheep to the siberian markets. the kirghese lead a nomadic life, making frequent change of residence to find pasturage for their immense flocks and herds. the different tribes are more or less hostile to each other, and have a pleasant habit of organizing raids on a colossal scale. one tribe will suddenly swoop down upon another and steal all portable property within reach. they do not mind a little fighting, and an enterprise of this kind frequently results in a good many broken heads. the chiefs believe themselves descended from the great warriors of the ancient tartar days, and boast loudly of their prowess. the kirghese are brave in fighting each other, but have a respectful fear of the russians. occasionally they plunder russian traders crossing the steppes, but are careful not to attack unless the odds are on their own side. the russians have applied their diplomacy among the kirghese and pushed their boundaries far to the southward. they have purchased titles to districts controlled by powerful chiefs, and after being fairly settled have continued negotiations for more territory. they make use of the hostility between the different tribes, and have managed so that nearly every feud brought advantages to russia. under their policy of toleration they never interfere with the religion of the conquered, and are careful not to awaken prejudices. the tribes in the subjugated territory are left pretty much to their own will. every few years the chain of frontier posts is pushed to the southward, and embraces a newly acquired region. western siberia is dotted over with abandoned and crumbling forts that once guarded the boundary, but are now far in the interior. some of these defences are near the great road across the baraba steppe. the kirghese do not till the soil nor engage in manufactures, except of a few articles for their own use. they sell sheep, cattle, and horses to the russians, and frequently accompany the droves to their destination. in return for their flocks and herds they receive goods of russian manufacture, either for their own use or for traffic with the people beyond. their wealth consists of domestic animals and the slaves to manage them. horses and sheep are legal tender in payment of debts, bribes, and presents. in the last few years russian conquest in central asia has moved so fast that england has taken alarm for her indian possessions. the last intelligence from that quarter announces a victory of the russians near samarcand, followed by negotiations for peace. if the muscovite power continues to extend over that part of asia, england has very good reason to open her eyes. i never conversed with the emperor on this topic, and cannot speak positively of his intentions toward asia, but am confident he has fixed his eye upon conquest as far south of the altai as he can easily go. that his armies may sometime hoist the russian flag in sight of the indo-english possessions, is not at all improbable. but that they will either attempt or desire an aggressive campaign against india is quite beyond expectation. it is but a few years ago that english travelers were killed for having made their way into central asia in disguise, and vambery, the hungarian traveler, was considered to have performed a great feat because he returned from there with his life. there is now the tashkend _messenger_, a russian paper devoted to the interests of that rich province. moscow merchants are establishing the bank of central asia, having its headquarters at tashkend and a branch at orenburg, and tashkend will soon be in telegraphic communication with the rest of the world. a plan has been proposed to open central asia to steam boat navigation. the river oxus, or amoo-daria, which flows through bakhara and khiva, emptying into the aral sea, was once a tributary of the caspian. several steamers have been placed upon it, and others are promised soon. the dry bed of the old channel of the oxus is visible in the turcoman steppe at the present day. the original diversion was artificial, and the dikes which direct it into the aral are said to be maintained with difficulty. it has been proposed to send an expedition to remove these barriers and turn the river into its former bed. coupled with this project is another to divert the course of the syr-daria and make it an affluent of the oxus. this last proposition was half carried out two hundred years ago, and its completion would not be difficult. by the first project, russia would obtain a continuous water-way from nijne novgorod on the volga to balkh on the amoo-daria, within two hundred miles of british india. the second scheme carried out would bring tashkend and all central asia under commercial control, and have a political effect of no secondary importance. a new route might thus be opened to british india, and european civilization carried into a region long occupied by semi-barbarian people. afghanistan would be relieved from its anarchy and brought under wholesome rule. the geographical effect would doubtless be the drying up of the aral sea. a railway between balkh and delhi would complete an inland steam route between st. petersburg and calcutta. surveys have been ordered for a central asiatic railway from orenburg or some point farther south, and it is quite possible that before many years the locomotive will be shrieking over the tartar steppes and frightening the flocks and herds of the wandering kalmacks and kirghese. a railway is in process of construction from the black sea to the caspian, and when this is completed, a line into central asia is only a question of time. the russians have an extensive trade with central asia. goods are transported on camels, the caravans coming in season for the fairs of irbit and nijne novgorod. the caravans from bokhara proceed to troitska, (lat. ° n., lon. ° ' e.,) petropavlovsk, (lat. ° ' n., lon. ° e.,) and orenburg, (lat. ° ' n., lon. ° ' e.) there is also a considerable traffic to sempolatinsk, (lat. ° ' n., lon. ° e.) the russian merchandise consists of metals, iron and steel goods, beads, mirrors, cloths of various kinds, and a miscellaneous lot "too numerous to mention." much of the country over which these caravans travel is a succession of asiatic steppes, with occasional salt lakes and scanty supplies of fresh water. after passing the altai mountains and outlying chains the routes are quite monotonous. fearful bourans are frequent, and in certain parts of the route they take the form of sand storms. a russian army on its way to khiva twenty-five years ago, was almost entirely destroyed in one of these desert tempests. occasionally the caravans suffer severely. the merchandise from bokhara includes raw cotton, sheepskins, rhubarb, dried fruits, peltries, silk, and leather, with shawl goods of different kinds. cotton is an important product, and in the latter part of my journey i saw large quantities going to russian factories. three hundred years ago a german traveler in russia wrote an account of 'a wonderful plant beyond the caspian sea.' "veracious people," says the writer, "tell me that the _borauez_, or sheep plant, grows upon a stalk larger than my thumb; it has a head, eyes, and ears like a sheep, but is without sensation. the natives use its wool for various purposes." i heard air interesting story of an adventure in which one of the kirghese, who was living among the russians at the time of my visit to barnaool, played an important part. he was a fine looking fellow, whose tribe lived between the altai mountains and lake ural, spending the winters in the low lands and the summers in the valleys of the foot-hills. he was the son of one of the patriarchs of the tribe, and was captured, during a baranta or foray, by a chief who had long been on hostile terms with his neighbors. the young man was held for ransom, but the price demanded was more than his father could pay, and so he remained in captivity. he managed to ingratiate himself with the chief of the tribe that captured him, and as a mark of honor, and probably as an excuse for the high ransom demanded, he was appointed to live in the chief's household. he was allowed to ride with the party when they moved, and accompany the herdsmen; but a sharp watch was kept on his movements whenever he was mounted, and care was taken that the horses he rode were not very fleet. the chief had a daughter whom he expected to marry to one of his powerful neighbors, and thereby secure a permanent friendship between the tribes. she was a style of beauty highly prized among the asiatics, was quite at home on horseback, and understood all the arts and accomplishments necessary to a kirghese maiden of noble blood. it is nothing marvelous that the young captive, selim, should become fond of the charming acson, the daughter of his captor. his fondness was reciprocated, but, like prudent lovers everywhere, they concealed their feelings, and to the outer world preserved a most indifferent exterior. selim thought it best to elope, and broached his opinion to acson, who readily favored it. they concluded to make the attempt when the tribe was moving to change its pasturage, and their absence would not be noticed until they had several hours start and were many miles on their way. they waited until the chief gave the order to move to another locality, where the grass was better. acson managed to leave the tent in the night, under some frivolous pretext, and select two of her father's best horses, which she concealed in a grove not far away. by previous arrangement she appeared sullen and indignant toward selim, who, mounted on a very sorry nag, set off with a party of men that were driving a large herd of horses. the latter were ungovernable, and the party became separated, so that it was easy for selim to drop out altogether and make his way to the grove where the horses were concealed. in the same way acson abandoned the party she started with, and within an hour from the time they left the _aool_, or encampment, the lovers met in the grove. [illustration: the elopement.] it was a long way to selim's tribe, but he knew it was somewhere in the mountains to the north and west, having left its winter quarters in the low country. the pair said their prayers in the true mahommedan style, and then, mounting their horses, set out at an easy pace to ascend the valley toward the higher land. their horses were in excellent condition, but they knew it would be necessary to ride hard in case they were pursued, and they wished to reserve their strength for the final effort. an hour before nightfall, they saw, far down the valley, a party in pursuit. the party was riding rapidly, and from appearances had not caught sight of the fugitives. after a brief consultation the latter determined to turn aside at the first bend of the valley, and endeavor to cross at the next stream, while leaving the pursuers to go forward and be deceived. they turned aside, and were gratified to see from a place of concealment the pursuing party proceed up the valley. the departure of the fugitives was evidently known some time earlier than they expected, else the pursuit would not have begun so soon. guided by the general course of the hills, the fugitives made their way to the next valley, and, as the night had come upon them, they made a camp beneath a shady tree, picketing their horses, and eating such provisions as they had brought with them. in the morning, just as their steeds were saddled and they were preparing to resume their journey, they saw their pursuers enter the valley a mile or two below them, and move rapidly in their direction. evidently they had turned back after losing the track, and found it without much delay. but their horses wore more weary than those of the fleeing lovers, so that the latter were confident of winning the race. swift was the flight and swift the pursuit. the valley was wide and nearly straight, and the lovers steadily increased the distance between them and their pursuers. they followed no path, but kept steadily forward, with their faces toward the mountains. their pursuers, originally half a dozen, diminished to five, then to four, and as the hours wore on selim found that only two were in sight. but a new obstacle arose to his escape. [illustration: the fight] he knew that the valley he was ascending was abruptly enclosed in the mountains, and escape would be difficult. further to the east was a more practicable one, and he determined to attempt to reach it. turning from the valley, he was followed by his two pursuers, who were so close upon him that he determined to fight them. acson had brought away one of her father's scimetars, and with this selim prepared to do battle. finding a suitable place among the rocks, he concealed his horses, and with acson made a stand where he could fight to advantage. he took his position on a rock just over the path his pursuers were likely to follow, and watched his opportunity to hurl a stone, which knocked one of them senseless. the other was dismounted by his horse taking fright, and before he could regain his saddle, selim was upon him. a short hand-to-hand fight resulted in selim's favor. leaving his adversaries upon the ground, one of them dead and the other mortally wounded, selim called acson and returned to his horses. both the fugitives were thoroughly exhausted on reaching the valley, and found to their dismay that a stream they were obliged to cross was greatly swollen with recent rains in the mountains. they were anxious to put the stream between them and their remaining pursuers, and after a brief halt they plunged in with their horses. selim crossed safely, his horse stemming the current and landing some distance below the point where he entered the water. acson was less fortunate. while in the middle of the stream her horse stumbled upon a stone, and sprang about so wildly as to throw her from the saddle. grasping the limb of a tree overhanging the water, she clung for a moment, but the horse sweeping against her, tore the support from her hand. with a loud cry to her terror-stricken lover, she sank beneath the waters and was dashed against the rocks a hundred yards below. [illustration: the catastrophe.] day became night, the stars sparkled in the blue heavens; the moon rose and took her course along the sky; the wind sighed among the trees; morning tinged the eastern horizon, and the sun pushed above it, while selim paced the banks of the river and watched the waters rolling, rolling, rolling, as they carried his heart's idol away from him forever, and it was not until night again approached that he mounted his steed and rode away, heart-broken, and full of sadness. he ultimately made his way to his own tribe, but years passed before he recovered from the crushing weight of that blow; and when i saw him there was still upon his countenance a deep shadow which will never be removed. such is the story of selim and acson. a more romantic one is hardly to be found. [illustration: tail piece] chapter xlv. one morning while i was in barnaool the doctor left me writing, and went out for a promenade. in half an hour he returned accompanied by a tall, well-formed man with a brunette complexion, and hair and mustache black as ebony. his dress was russian, but the face impressed me as something strange. "let me introduce you," said the doctor, "to an officer of the persian army. he has been eight years from home, and would like to talk with an american." we shook hands, and by way of getting on familiar footing, i opened my cigar case. dr. schmidt translated our conversation, the persian speaking russian very fairly. his story was curious and interesting. he was captured in near herat, by a party of predatory turcomans. his captors sold him to a merchant at balkh where he remained sometime. from balkh he was sold to khiva, and from khiva to bokhara, whence he escaped with a fellow captive. i asked if he was compelled to labor during his captivity, and received a negative reply. soldiers and all others except officers are forced to all kinds of drudgery when captured by these barbarians. officers are held for ransom, and their duties are comparatively light. russian slaves are not uncommon in central asia, though less numerous than formerly. the kirghese cripple their prisoners by inserting a horse hair in a wound in the heel. a man thus treated is lamed for life. he cannot use his feet in escaping, and care is taken that he does not secure a horse. the two fugitives traveled together from bokhara, suffering great hardships in their journey over the steppes. they avoided all towns through fear of capture, and subsisted upon whatever chance threw in their way. once when near starvation they found and killed a sheep. they ate heartily of its raw flesh, and before the supply thus obtained was exhausted they reached the russian boundary at chuguchak. one of the twain died soon afterward, and his companion in flight came to barnaool. the authorities would not let him go farther without a passport, and he had been in the town nearly a year at the time of my visit. through the persian ambassador at st. petersburg, he had communicated, with his government at teheran, and expected his passport in a few weeks. during the eight years that had elapsed since his capture this gentleman heard nothing from his own country. he had learned to speak russian but could not read it. i told him of the completion of the indo-european telegraph by way of the euphrates and the persian gulf, and the success of electric communication between england and india. naturally he was less interested concerning the atlantic cable than about the telegraph in his own country. we shook hands at parting, and mutually expressed a wish to meet again in persia and america. after his departure, the doctor commented upon the intelligent bearing and clear eye of the persian, and then said: "i have done several strange and unexpected things in my life, but i never dreamed i should be the interpreter between a persian and an american at the foot of the altai mountains." i met at barnaool, a prussian gentleman mr. radroff, who was sent to siberia by the russian academy of science. he knew nearly all the languages of europe, and had spent some years in studying those of central asia. he could converse and read in chinese, persian, and mongol, and i don't know how many languages and dialects of lesser note. his special mission was to collect information about the present and past inhabitants of central asia, and in this endeavor he had made explorations in the country of the kirghese and beyond lake balkask. he was preparing for a journey in to kashgar. mr. radroff possessed many archaeological relics gathered in his researches, and exhibited drawings of many tumuli. he had a curious collection of spear heads, knives, swords, ornaments, stirrup irons, and other souvenirs of ancient days. he discoursed upon the ages of copper, gold, and iron, and told the probable antiquity of each specimen he brought out. he gave me a spear head and a knife blade taken from a burial mound in the kirghese country. "you observe," said he, "they are of copper and were doubtless made before the discovery of iron. they are probably three thousand years old, and may be more. in these tumuli, copper is found much better preserved than iron, though the latter is more recently buried." at this gentleman's house, i saw a persian soldier who had been ten years in captivity among the turcomans, where he was beaten and forced to the lowest drudgery, and often kept in chains. after long and patient waiting he escaped and reached the siberian boundary. having no passport, and unable to make himself understood, he was sent to barnaool and lodged in prison where he remained nearly two years! the persian officer above mentioned, heard of him by accident, and procured his release. mr. radroff had taken the man as a house servant and a teacher of the persian language. i heard him read in a sonorous voice several passages from the koran. his face bore the marks of deep suffering, and gave silent witness to the story of his terrible captivity in the hands of the turcomans. his incarceration at barnaool was referred to as an "unfortunate oversight." escaping from barbarian slavery he fell into a civilized prison, and must have considered christian kindness more fanciful than real. he expected to accompany his countryman on his return to persia. the day before our departure, we were invited to a public dinner in honor of our visit. it took place at the club rooms, the tables being set in what was once the parquet of the theatre. the officials, from general freeze downward, were seated in the order of their rank, and the post of honor was assigned to the two strangers. no ladies were present, and the dinner, so far as its gastronomic features went, was much like a dinner at irkutsk or kiachta. at the second course my attention was called to an excellent fish peculiar to the ob and yenesei rivers. it is a species of salmon under the name of nalma, and ascends from the arctic ocean. beef from the kirghese steppes elicited our praise, and so did game from the region around barnaool. at the end of the dinner i was ready to answer affirmatively the inquiry, "all full inside?" at the appearance of the champagne, colonel taskin of the mining engineers made a brief speech in english, and ended by proposing the united states of america and the health of the american stranger. dr. schmidt translated my response as well as my toast to the russian empire, and especially the inhabitants of barnaool. the doctor was then honored for his mammoth hunt, and made proper acknowledgment. then we had personal toasts and more champagne with russian and american music, and champagne again, and then we had some more champagne and then some champagne. when the tables were removed, we had impromptu dancing to lively music, including several cossack dances, some familiar and others new to me. there is one of these dances which usually commences by a woman stepping into the centre of the room and holding a kerchief in her right hand. moving gracefully to the music, she passes around the apartment, beckoning to one, hiding her face from another, gesticulating with extended arms before a third, and skilfully manipulating the kerchief all the while. when this sentimental pantomime is ended, she selects a partner and waves the kerchief over him. he pretends reluctance, but allows himself to be dragged to the floor where the couple dance _en deux_. the dance includes a great deal of entreaty, aversion, hope, and despair, all in dumb show, and ends by the lady being led to a seat. i saw this dance introduced in a ballet at the grand theatre in moscow, and wondered why it never appeared on the stage outside the russian empire. one of the gentlemen who danced admirably had recovered the use of his legs two years before, after being unable to walk no less than twenty-eight years. he declared himself determined to make up for lost time, and when i left the hall, he continued entertaining himself. during the dancing, a party gathered around where i stood and i observed that every lady was assembling as if to witness some fun. "be on your watch," a friend whispered, "they are going to give you the _polkedovate_." the _polkedovate_ is nothing more nor less than a tossing up at the hands of a dozen or twenty russians. it has the effect of intoxicating a sober man, but i never heard that it sobered a drunken one. major collins was elevated in this way at kiachta, and declares that the effect, added to the champagne he had previously taken, was not at all satisfactory. remembering his experience, and fearing i might go too high or come too low, i was glad when a diversion was made in my favor by a gentleman coming to bid me good night. [illustration: the polkedovate.] the custom of tossing up a guest is less prevalent in siberia than ten or twenty years ago. it was formerly a mark of high respect, but i presume few who were thus honored would have hesitated to forego the distinguished courtesy. one of the gentlemen i met at dinner had a passion for trotting horses. he asked me many questions about the famous race horses in america, from lady suffolk down to the latest two-twenties. i answered to the best of my abilities, but truth required me to say i was not authority in equine matters. the gentleman treated me to a display of trotting by a siberian horse five years old, and carefully trained. i forget the exact figures he gave me, but believe they were something like two-thirty to the mile. to my unhorsy eye, the animal was pretty, and well formed, and i doubt not he would have acquitted himself finely on the bloomingdale road. the best horses in siberia are generally from european russia, the siberian climate being unfavorable to careful breeding. kirghese horses are excellent under the saddle, but not well reputed for draught purposes. i gave out some washing at barnaool, and accidentally included a paper collar in the lot. when the laundress returned the linen, she explained with much sorrow the dissolution of the collar when she attempted to wash it. i presume it was the first of its kind that ever reached the altai mountains. [illustration: making explanation.] we arranged to leave barnaool at the conclusion of the dinner at the club room. first we proceeded to the house of colonel taskin where we took 'positively the last' glass of champagne. our preparations at our lodgings were soon completed, and the baggage carefully stowed. a party of our acquaintances assembled to witness our departure, and pass through a round of kissing as the yemshick uttered 'gotovey.' they did not make an end of hand-shaking until we were wrapped and bundled into the sleigh. it was a keen, frosty night with the stars twinkling in the clear heavens as we drove outside the yard of our hotel. horses, driver, and travelers were alike exhilarated in the sharp atmosphere and we dashed off at courier pace. the driver was a musical fellow, and endeavored to sing a russian ballad while we were galloping over the glistening snow. we had a long ride before us. the wide steppe of baraba, or barabinsky, lies between barnaool and the foot of the ural mountains. there was no town where we expected to stop before reaching tumen, fifteen hundred versts away. as the luxuries of life are not abundant on this road we stored our sleighs with provisions, and hoped to add bread and eggs at the stations. our farewell dinner was considered a sufficient preparation for at least a hundred and fifty versts. i nestled down among the furs and hay which formed my bed, leaned back upon the pillows and exposed only a few square inches of visage to the nipping and eager air. a few versts from town we stuck upon an icy bank where the smooth feet of our horses could not obtain holding ground. after a while we attached one horse to a long rope, and enabled him to pull from the level snow above the bank. i expected the yemshick would ask us to lighten the sleigh by stepping out of it. an american driver would have put us ashore without ceremony, but custom is otherwise in siberia. horses and driver are engaged to take the vehicle and its burden to the next station, and it is the traveler's privilege to remain in his place in any emergency short of an overturn. the track was excellent, having been well trodden since the storm. we followed our former road a hundred versts from barnaool, and then turned to the left to strike the great post route near kiansk. it was necessary to cross the river ob, and as we reached the station near it during the night, we waited for daylight. the ice was sufficiently thick and firm, but the danger arose from holes and thin places that could not be readily discovered in the dark. while crossing we met a peasant who had tumbled into one of these holes, and been fished out by his friends. he looked unhappy, and no doubt felt so. his garments were frozen stiff, and altogether he resembled a bronze statue of franklin after a freezing rain storm. [illustration: after the bath.] the thermometer fell on the first night to fifteen degrees below zero, and to about - ° just before sunrise. the colder it grew the better was our speed, the horses feeling the crisp air and the driver being anxious to complete his stage in the least time possible. with uniform roads and teams one can judge pretty fairly of the temperature by the rate at which he travels. from barnaool we did not have the horses of the post, but engaged our first troikas of a peasant who offered his services. our yemshick took us to his friend at the first station, and this operation was regularly repeated. occasionally our two yemshicks had different friends, and our sleighs were separately out-fitted. when this was the case the teams were speedily attached out of a spirit of rivalry. we frequently endeavored to excite the yemshicks to the noble ambition of a race by offering a few copecks to the winner. when the teams were furnished from different houses the temper of emulation roused itself spontaneously. twice we left the post route to make short cuts that saved thirty or forty miles travel. on those side roads we found plenty of horses, and were promptly served. the inhabitants of the steppe are delighted at the opportunity to carry travelers at post rates. the latter are saved the trouble of exhibiting their _padarashnia_ at every station, and generally prefer to employ private teams. the horses were small, wiry beasts of tartar breed, and utter strangers to combs and brushes. while at breakfast on the second morning we were accosted by an old and decrepid beggar. the fellow wore a decoration consisting of a box six or seven inches square, suspended on his breast by a strap around his neck. though seedy enough to set up business on his own account, he explained that he was begging for the church. his honesty was evidently in question as the box was firmly locked and had an aperture in the top for receiving money. we each gave ten copecks into his hand, and i observed that he did not drop the gratuity into the box. i was reminded of the man who owed a grudge against a railroad line, and declared that the company should never have another cent of his money. a friend asked how he would prevent it, as he frequently traveled over the road. "easy enough," was the calm reply, "i shall hereafter pay my fare to the conductor." the morning after reaching barnaool, i had a fine twinge of rheumatism that adhered during my stay. quite to my surprise it left me on the second day after our departure, and like the bad boy in the story never came back again. the medical faculty can have the benefit of my experience, and prescribe as follows for their rheumatic patients. "st. nt. o. lg. sl. s. r. = ther. - z "start at night on a long sleigh ride over a siberian road with the thermometer below zero." a bouran arose in the afternoon of the second day, but was neither violent nor very cold. at barnaool i had my sleigh specially prepared to exclude drifting snow. i ordered a liberal supply of buttons and straps to fasten the boot to the hood, besides an overlapping flap of thick felt to cover the crevice between them. the precaution was well taken, and with our doors thoroughly closed we were not troubled with much snow. the drivers were exposed on the outside of the sleigh, and had the full benefit of the wind. at the end of the first drive after this storm commenced our yemshick might have passed for an animated snow statue. the road was tolerable, and a great improvement upon that from krasnoyarsk to tomsk. [illustration: tail piece] chapter xlvi. the great steppe of baraba is quite monotonous, as there is very little change of scenery in traveling over it. whoever has been south or west from chicago, or west from leavenworth, in winter, can form a very good idea of the steppe. the winter appearance is much like that of a western prairie covered with snow. whether there is equal similarity in summer i am unable to say. the country is flat or slightly undulating, and has a scanty growth of timber. sometimes there were many versts without trees, then there would be a scattered and straggling display of birches, and again the growth was dense enough to be called a forest. the principal arboreal productions are birches, and i found the houses, sheds, and fences in most of the villages constructed of birch timber. the open part of the steppe, far more extensive than the wooded portion, was evidently favorable to the growth of grass, as i saw a great deal protruding above the snow. there are many marshy and boggy places, covered in summer with a dense growth of reeds. they are a serious inconvenience to the traveler on account of the swarms of mosquitoes, gnats, and other tormenting insects that they produce. while crossing the baraba swamps in summer, men and women are obliged to wear veils as a protection against these pests. horses are sometimes killed by their bites, and frequently became thin in flesh from the constant annoyance. a gentleman told me that once when crossing the swamps one of his horses, maddened by the insects, broke from the carriage and fled out of sight among the tall reeds. the yemshicks, who knew the locality, said the animal would certainly be killed by his winged pursuers in less than twenty-four hours. there is much game on the steppe in summer, birds being more numerous than beasts. the only winter game we saw was the white partridge, (_kurupatki_,) of which we secured several specimens. the steppe is fertile, and in everything the soil can produce the people are wealthy. they have wheat, rye, and oats in abundance, but pay little attention to garden vegetables. in the crops were small in all parts of siberia west of lake baikal, and i frequently heard the peasants complaining of high prices. they said such a season was almost unprecedented. on the steppe oats were forty copecks, and wheat and rye seventy copecks a pood; equaling about thirty cents and seventy-five cents a bushel respectively. in some years wheat has been sold for ten copecks the pood, and other products at proportionate prices. we paid twelve copecks the dizaine for eggs, which frequently sell for one-third that sum. the fertility of the soil cannot be turned to great account, as there is no general market. men and horses engaged in the transportation and postal service create a limited demand, but there is little sale beyond this. with so small a market there are very few rich inhabitants on the steppe; and with edibles at a cheap rate, there are few cases of extreme poverty. we rarely saw beggars, and on the other hand we found nobody who was able to dress in broadcloth and fine linen and fare sumptuously every day. hay is abundant, and may be cut on any unclaimed part of the steppe. i was told that in some places the farmers of a village assemble on horseback at an appointed time. at a given signal all start for the haying spots, and the first arrival has the first choice. there is enough for all, and in ordinary seasons no grass less than knee high is considered worth cutting. at the villages we generally obtained excellent bread of unbolted wheat flour, rye being rarely used. there were many windmills of clumsy construction, the wheels having but four wings, and the whole concern turning on a pivot to bring its face to the wind. no bolting apparatus has been introduced, and the machinery is of the simplest and most primitive character. it was a period of fasting, just before christmas, and our whole obtainable bill of fare comprised bread and eggs. as we reached a certain station we asked what we could get to eat. "everything," was the prompt reply of the smotretal. we were hungry, and this information was cheering. "give us some _schee_, if you please," said the doctor. an inquiry in the kitchen showed this edible to be 'just out.' "some beef, then?" there was no beef to be had. cutlets were alike negatived. "any pilmania?" was our next inquiry. "_nierte; nizniu_." the 'everything' hunted down consisted of eggs, bread, and hot water. we brought out a boiled ham, that was generally our _piece de resistance_, and made a royal meal. if _trichina spiralis_ existed in siberian ham, it was never able to disturb us. we found no fruit as there are no orchards in siberia. attempts have been made to cultivate fruit, but none have succeeded. a little production about the size of a whortleberry was shown me in eastern siberia, where it was pickled and served up as a relish with meat. "this is the siberian apple," said the gentleman who first exhibited it, "and it has degenerated to what you see since its introduction from europe." on dissecting one of these little berries, i found it possessed the anatomy of the apple, with seeds smaller than pin-heads. kotzebue and other travelers say there are no bees in siberia, but the assertion is incorrect. i saw native honey enough to convince me on this point, and learned that bees are successfully raised in the southern part of asiatic russia. we were not greatly delayed in our team changing, though we lost several hours in small instalments. we had two sleighs, and although there were anywhere up to a dozen men to prepare them, the harnessing of one team was generally completed before the other was led out. when the horses were ready, the driver often went to fetch his dehar and make his toilet. in this way we would lose five or ten minutes, a small matter by itself, but a large one when under heavy multiplication. [illustration: the driver's toilet.] we took breakfast and dinner daily in the peasants' houses, which we found very much like the stations. we carried our own tea and sugar, and with a fair supply of provisions, added what we could obtain. tea was the great solace of the journey, and proved, above all others, the beverage which cheers. i could swallow several cups at a sitting, and never failed to find myself refreshed. it is far better than vodki or brandy for traveling purposes, and many russians who are pretty free drinkers at home adhere quite closely to tea on the road. the merchant traveler drinks enormous quantities, and i have seen a couple of these worthies empty a twenty cup samovar with no appearance of surfeit. so much hot liquid inside generally sets them into a perspiration. nothing but loaf sugar is used, and there is a very common practice of holding a lump in one hand and following a sip of the unsweetened tea with a nibble at the sugar. when several persons are engaged in this rasping process a curious sound is produced. there are many tartars living on the steppe, but we saw very little of them, as our changes were made at the russian villages. before the reign of catherine ii. there was but a small population between tumen and tomsk, and the road was more a fiction than a fact. the governor general of siberia persuaded catherine to let him have all conscripts of one levy instead of sending them to the army. he settled them in villages along the route over the steppe, and the wisdom of his policy was very soon apparent. the present population is made up of the descendants of these and other early settlers, together with exiles and voluntary emigrants of the present century. several villages have a bad reputation, and i heard stories of robbery and murder. in general the dwellers on the steppe are reputable, and they certainly impressed me favorably. i was told by a russian that catherine once thought of giving the siberians a constitution somewhat like that of the united states of america, but was dissuaded from so doing by one of her ministers. [illustration: women spinning.] the villages were generally built each in a single street, or at most, in two streets. the largest houses had yards, or enclosures, into which we drove when stopping for breakfast or dinner. the best windows were of glass or talc, fixed in frames, and generally made double. the poorer peasants contented themselves with windows of ox or cow stomachs, scraped thin and stretched in drying. there were no iron stoves in any house i visited, the russian _peitcha_ or brick stove being universal. very often we found the women and girls engaged in spinning. no wheel is used for this purpose, the entire apparatus being a hand spindle and a piece of board. the flax is fastened on an upright board, and the fingers of the left hand gather the fibres and begin the formation of a thread. the right hand twirls the spindle, and by skillful manipulation a good thread is formed with considerable rapidity. a great deal of hemp and flax is raised upon the steppe, and we found rope abundant, cheap, and good. i bought ten fathoms of half-inch rope for forty copecks, a peasant bringing it to a house where we breakfasted. when i paid for it the mistress of the house quietly appropriated ten copecks, remarking that the rope maker owed her that amount. she talked louder and more continuously than any other woman i met in siberia, and awakened my wonder by going barefooted into an open shed and remaining there several minutes. she stood in snow and on ice, but appeared quite unconcerned. our thermometer at the time showed a temperature of ° below zero. the only city on the steppe is omsk, at the junction of the om and irtish, and the capital of western siberia. it is said to contain twelve thousand inhabitants, and its buildings are generally well constructed. we did not follow the post route through omsk, but took a cut-off that carried us to the northward and saved a hundred versts of sleigh riding. the city was founded in order to have a capital in the vicinity of the kirghese frontier, but since its construction the frontier line has removed far away. in a conspiracy, extending widely through siberia, was organized at omsk. m. piotrowski gives an account of it, from which i abridge the following: it was planned by the abbe sierosiuski, a polish catholic priest who had been exiled for taking part in the rebellion of . he was sent to serve in the ranks of a cossack regiment in western siberia, and after a brief period of military duty was appointed teacher in the military school at omsk. his position gave him opportunity to project a rebellion. his plan was well laid, and found ready supporters among other exiles, especially the poles. some ambitious russians and tartars were in the secret. the object was to secure the complete independence of siberia and the release of all prisoners. in the event of failure it was determined to march over the kirghese steppes to tashkend, and attempt to reach british india. everything was arranged, both in eastern and western siberia. the revolt was to begin at omsk, where most of the conspirators were stationed, and where there was an abundance of arms, ammunition, supplies, and money. the evening before the day appointed for the rising, the plot was revealed by three polish soldiers, who confessed all they knew to colonel degrave, the governor of omsk. sierosiuski and his fellow conspirators in the city were at once arrested, and orders were despatched over the whole country to secure all accomplices and suspected persons. about a thousand arrests were made, and as soon as news of the affair reached st. petersburg, a commission of inquiry was appointed. the investigations lasted until , when they were concluded and the sentences confirmed. [illustration: flogging with sticks.] six principal offenders, including the chief, were each condemned to seven thousand blows of the _plette_, or stick, while walking the gauntlet between two files of soldiers. this is equivalent to a death sentence, as very few men can survive more than four thousand blows. only one of the six outlived the day when the punishment was inflicted, some falling dead before the full number of strokes had been given. the minor offenders were variously sentenced, according to the extent of their guilt, flogging with the stick being followed by penal colonization or military service in distant garrisons. it is said that the priest sierosiuski while undergoing his punishment recited in a clear voice the latin prayer, "misere mei, deus, secundum magnam misericordium tuam." on approaching the irtish we found it bordered by hills which presented steep banks toward the river. the opposite bank was low and quite level. it is a peculiarity of most rivers in russia that the right banks rise into bluffs, while the opposite shores are low and flat. the volga is a fine example of this, all the way from tver to astrachan, and the same feature is observable in most of the siberian streams that reach the arctic ocean. various conjectures account for it, but none are satisfactory to scientific men. steamboats have ascended to omsk, but there is not sufficient traffic to make regular navigation profitable. we crossed the irtish two hundred and seventy versts south of tobolsk, a city familiar to american readers from its connection with the "story of elizabeth." the great road formerly passed through tobolsk, and was changed when a survey of the country showed that two hundred versts might be saved. formerly all exiles to siberia were first sent to that city, where a "commission of transportation" held constant session. from tobolsk the prisoners were told off to the different governments, provinces, districts, and 'circles,' and assigned to the penalties prescribed by their sentences. many prominent exiles have lived in the northern part of the government of tobolsk, especially at beresov on the river ob. menshikoff, a favorite of peter the great, died there in exile, and so did the prince dolgorouki and the count osterman. it is said the body of menshikoff was buried in the frozen earth at beresov, and found perfectly preserved a hundred years after its interment. in that region the ground never thaws more than a foot or two from the surface; below to an unknown depth it is hardened by perpetual frost. many poles have been involuntary residents of this region, and contributed to the development of its few resources. north of tobolsk, the ostiaks are the principal aboriginals, and frequently wander as far south as omsk. before the russian occupation of siberia the natives carried on a trade with the tartars of central asia, and the abundance and cheapness of their furs made them attractive customers. marco polo mentions a people "in the dark regions of the north, who employ dogs to draw their sledges, and trade with the merchants from bokhara." there is little doubt he referred to the ostiaks and samoyedes. a polish lady exiled to beresov in , described in her journal her sensation at seeing a herd of tame bears driven through the streets to the market place, just as cattle are driven elsewhere. she records that while descending the irtish she had the misfortune to fall overboard. the soldier escorting her was in great alarm, at the accident, and fairly wept for joy when she was rescued. he explained through his tears that her death would have been a serious calamity to him. "i shall be severely punished," he said, "if any harm befalls you, and, for my sake, i hope you won't try to drown yourself, but will keep alive and well till i get rid of you." tobolsk is on the site of the tartar settlement of sibeer, from which the name of siberia is derived. in the days of genghis khan northern asia was overrun and wrested from its aboriginal inhabitants. tartar supremacy was undisputed until near the close of the sixteenth century, when the tartars lost kazan and everything else west of the urals. during the reign of ivan the cruel, a difficulty arose between the czar and some of the don cossacks, and, as the czar did not choose to emigrate, the cossacks left their country for their country's good. headed by one yermak, they retired to the vicinity of the ural mountains, where they started a marauding business with limited liability and restricted capital. crossing the urals, yermak subjugated the country west of the irtish and founded a fortress on the site of sibeer. he overpowered all the tartars in his vicinity, and received a pardon for himself and men in return for his conquest. the czar, as a mark of special fondness, sent yermak a suit of armor from his own wardrobe. yermak went one day to dine with some tartar chiefs, and was arrayed for the first time in his new store clothes. one tradition says he was treacherously killed by the tartars on this occasion, and thrown in the river. another story says he fell in by accident, and the weight of his armor drowned him. a monument at tobolsk commemorates his deeds. no leader rose to fill yermak's place, and the russians became divided into several independent bands. they had the good sense not to quarrel, and remained firm in the pursuit of conquest. they pushed eastward from the irtish and founded tomsk in . ten years later the tartars united and attempted to expel the russians. they surrounded tomsk and besieged it for a long time. russia was then distracted by civil commotions and the war with the poles, and could not assist the cossacks. the latter held out with great bravery, and at length gained a decisive victory. from that time the tartars made no serious and organized resistance. subsequent expeditions for siberian conquest generally originated at tomsk. cossacks pushed to the north, south, and east, forming settlements in the valley of the yenesei and among the yakuts of the lena. in they reached the shores of the ohotsk sea, and took possession of all eastern siberia to the aldan mountains. i believe history has no parallel to some features of this conquest. a robber-chieftain with a few hundred followers,--himself and his men under ban, and, literally, the first exiles to siberia--passes from europe to asia. in seventy years these cossacks and their descendants, with, little aid from others, conquered a region containing nearly five million square miles. everywhere displaying a spirit of adventure and determined bravery, they reduced the tartars to the most perfect submission. the cost of their expeditions was entirely borne by individuals who sought remuneration in the lucrative trade they opened. the captured territory became russian, though the government had neither paid for nor controlled the conquest. i saw the portrait and bust of yermak, but no one could assure me of their fidelity. the face was thoroughly russian, and the lines of character were such as one might expect from the history of the man. he was represented in the suit of armor he wore at his death. [illustration: tail piece] chapter xlvii. the evening after we passed the irtish, a severe bouran arose. as the night advanced the wind increased. the road was filled and apparently obliterated. the yemshicks found it difficult to keep the track, and frequently descended to look for it. each interval of search was a little longer than the preceding one, so that we passed considerable time in impatient waiting. about midnight we reached a station, where we were urged to rest until morning, the people declaring it unsafe to proceed. a slight lull in the storm decided us and the yemshicks to go forward, but as we set out from the station it seemed like driving into the spray at the foot of niagara. midway between the station, we wandered from the route and appeared hopelessly lost, with the prospect of waiting until morning. just before nightfall, we saw three wolves on the steppe, pointing their sharp noses in our direction, and apparently estimating how many dinners our horses would make. whether they took the mammoth into account i cannot say, but presume he was not considered. wolves are numerous in all siberia, and are not admired by the biped inhabitants. when our road seemed utterly lost, and our chances good for a bivouac in the steppe, we heard a dismal howl in a momentary lull of the wind. "volk," (wolf,) said the yemshick, who was clearing away the snow near the sleigh. again we heard the sound, and saw the horses lift their ears uneasily. an instant later the fury of the wind returned. the snow whirled in dense clouds, and the roaring of the tempest drowned all other sounds. had there been fifty howling wolves, within a hundred yards of us, we could have known nothing until they burst upon us through the curtain of drifting snow. it was a time of suspense. i prepared to throw off my outer garments in case we were attacked, and roused the doctor, who had been some time asleep. at the cry of "wolf," he was very soon awake, though he did not lose that calm serenity that always distinguished him. the yemshicks continued their search for the road, one of them keeping near the sleigh and the other walking in circles in the vicinity. our position was not enviable. [illustration: lost in a snow storm.] to be served up _au natural_ to the lupine race was never my ambition, and i would have given a small sum, in cash or approved paper, for a sudden transportation to the astor house, but with my weight and substance, all the more desirable to the wolves, a change of base was not practicable. our only fire-arms were a shot-gun and a pistol, the latter unserviceable, and packed in the doctor's valise. of course the wolves would first eat the horses, and reserve us for dessert. we should have felt, during the preliminaries, much like those unhappy persons, in the french revolution, who were last in a batch of victims to the guillotine. after long delay the road was discovered, and as the wolves did not come we proceeded. we listened anxiously for the renewal of their howling, but our ears did not catch the unwelcome sound. the doctor exhibited no alarm. as he was an old traveler, i concluded to follow his example, and go to sleep. in ordinary seasons wolves are not dangerous to men, though they commit more or less havoc among live stock. sheep and pigs are their favorite prey, as they are easily captured, and do not resist. horses and cattle are overpowered by wolves acting in packs; the hungry brutes displaying considerable strategy. a gentleman told me he once watched a dozen wolves attacking a powerful bull. some worried him in front and secured his attention while others attempted to cut his ham-strings. the effort was repeated several times, the wolves relieving each other in exposed positions. at length the bull was crippled and the first part of the struggle gained. the wolves began to lick their chops in anticipation of a meal, and continued to worry their expected prey up to the pitch of exhaustion. the gentleman shot two of them and drove the others into the forest. he could do no more than put the bull out of his misery. on departing he looked back and saw the wolves returning to their now ready feast. the best parts of russia for wolf-hunting are in the western governments, where there is less game and more population than in siberia. it is in these regions that travelers are sometimes pursued by wolves, but such incidents are not frequent. it is only in the severest winters, when driven to desperation by hunger, that the wolves dare to attack men. the horses are the real objects of their pursuit, but when once a party is overtaken the wolves make no nice distinctions, and horses and men are alike devoured. apropos of hunting i heard a story of a thrilling character. "it had been," said the gentleman who narrated the incident, "a severe winter in vitebsk and vilna. i had spent several weeks at the country residence of a friend in vitebsk, and we heard, during the latter part of my stay, rumors of the unusual ferocity of the wolves. "one day kanchin, my host, proposed a wolf-hunt. 'we shall have capital sport,' said he, 'for the winter has made the wolves hungry, and they will be on the alert when they hear our decoy.' "we prepared a sledge, one of the common kind, made of stout withes, woven like basket-work, and firmly fastened to the frame and runners. it was wide enough for both of us and the same height all around so that we could shoot in any direction except straight forward. we took a few furs to keep us warm, and each had a short gun of large bore, capable of carrying a heavy load of buck-shot. rifles are not desirable weapons where one cannot take accurate aim. as a precaution we stowed two extra guns in the bottom of the sledge. "the driver, ivan, on learning the business before him, was evidently reluctant to go, but as a russian servant has no choice beyond obeying his master, the man offered no objection. three spirited horses were attached, and i heard kanchin order that every part of the harness should be in the best condition. "we had a pig confined in a strong cage of ropes and withes, that he might last longer than if dragged by the legs. a rope ten feet long was attached to the cage and ready to be tied to the sledge. "we kept the pig in furs at the bottom of the sledge, and drove silently into the forest. the last order given by kanchin was to open the gates of the courtyard and hang a bright lantern in front. i asked the reason of this, and he replied with a smile: 'if we should be going at full speed on our return, i don't wish to stop till we reach the middle of the yard.' "as by mutual consent neither uttered a word as we drove along. we carried no bells, and there was no creaking of any part of the sledge. ivan did not speak but held his reins taut and allowed the horses to take their own pace. in his secure and warm covering the pig was evidently asleep. the moon and stars were perfectly unclouded, and there was no motion of anything in the forest. the road was excellent, but we did not meet or pass a single traveler. i do not believe i ever _felt_ silence more forcibly than then. "the forest in that region is not dense, and on either side of the road there is a space of a hundred yards or more entirely open. the snow lay crisp and sparkling, and as the country was but slightly undulating we could frequently see long distances. the apparent movement of the trees as we drove past them caused me to fancy the woods rilled with animate forms to whom the breeze gave voices that mocked us. "about eight versts from the house we reached a cross road that led deeper into the forest. '_naprava,_' in a low voice from my companion turned us to the right into the road. eight or ten versts further kanchin, in the same low tone, commanded '_stoi._' without a word ivan drew harder upon his reins, and we came to a halt. at a gesture from my friend the team was turned about. "kanchin stepped carefully from the sledge and asked me to hand him the rope attached to the cage. he tied this to the rear cross-bar, and removing his cloak told me to do the same. getting our guns, ammunition, and ourselves in readiness, and taking our seats with our backs toward the driver, we threw out the pig and his cage and ordered ivan to proceed. "the first cry from the pig awoke an answering howl in a dozen directions. the horses sprang as if struck with a heavy hand, and i felt my blood chill at the dismal sound. the driver with great difficulty kept his team from breaking into a gallop. five minutes later, a wolf came galloping from the forest on the left side where i sat. "'don't fire till he is quite near,' said kanchin, 'we shall have no occasion to make long shots.' "the wolf was distinctly visible on the clean snow, and i allowed him to approach within twenty yards. i fired, and he fell. as i turned to re-load kanchin raised his gun to shoot a wolf approaching the right of the sledge. his shot was successful, the wolf falling dead upon the snow. "i re-loaded very quickly, and when i looked up there were three wolves running toward me, while as many more were visible on kanchin's side. my companion raised his eyes when his gun was ready and gave a start that thrilled me with horror. ivan was immovable in his place, and holding with all his might upon the reins. "'_poshol!_' shouted kanchin. "the howling grew more terrific. whatever way we looked we could see the wolves emerging from the forest; "'with their long gallop, which can tire, the hounds' deep hate, the hunter's fire.' "not only behind and on either side but away to the front, i could see their dark forms. we fired and loaded and fired again, every shot telling but not availing to stop the pursuit. "the driver did not need kanchin's shout of '_poshol_!' and the horses exerted every nerve without being urged. but with all our speed we could not outstrip the wolves that grew every moment more numerous. if we could only keep up our pace we might escape, but should a horse stumble, the harness give way, or the sledge overturn, we were hopelessly lost. we threw away our furs and cloaks keeping only our arms and ammunition. the wolves hardly paused over these things but steadily adhered to the pursuit. "suddenly i thought of a new danger that menaced us. i grasped kanchin's arm and asked how we could turn the corner into the main road. should we attempt it at full speed the sledge would be overturned. if we slackened our pace the wolves would be upon us. "i felt my friend trembling in my grasp but his voice was firm. "'when i say the word,' he replied, giving me his hunting knife, 'lean over and cut the rope of the decoy. that will detain them a short time. soon as you have done so lie down on the left side of the sledge and cling to the cords across the bottom.' "then turning to ivan he ordered him to slacken speed a little, but only a little, at the corner, and keep the horses from running to either side as he turned. this done kanchin clung to the left side of the sledge prepared to step upon its fender and counteract, if possible, our centrifugal force. "we approached the main road, and just as i discovered the open space at the crossing kanchin shouted,-- "'strike!' "i whipped off the rope in an instant and we left our decoy behind us. the wolves stopped, gathered densely about the prize, and began quarreling over it. only a few remained to tear the cage asunder. the rest, after a brief halt, continued the pursuit, but the little time they lost was of precious value to us. "we approached the dreaded turning. kanchin placed his feet upon the fender and fastened his hands into the net-work of the sledge. i lay down in the place assigned me, and never did drowning man cling to a rope more firmly than i clung to the bottom of our vehicle. as we swept around the corner the sledge was whirled in air, turned upon its side and only saved from complete oversetting by the positions of kanchin and myself. "just as the sledge righted, and ran upon both runners, i heard a piercing cry. ivan, occupied with his horses, was not able to cling like ourselves; he fell from his seat, and hardly struck the snow before the wolves were upon him. that one shriek that filled my ears was all he could utter. the reins were trailing, but fortunately where they were not likely to be entangled. the horses needed no driver; all the whips in the world could not increase their speed. two of our guns wore lost as we turned from the by-road, but the two that lay under me in the sledge were providentially saved. we fired as fast as possible into the dark mass that filled the road not twenty yards behind us. every shot told but the pursuit did not lag. to-day i shudder as i think of that surging mass of gray forms with eyes glistening like fireballs, and the serrated jaws that opened as if certain of a feast. [illustration: fatal result.] "a stern chase is proverbially a long one. if no accident happened to sledge or horses we felt certain that the wolves which followed could not overtake us. "as we approached home our horses gave signs of lagging, and the pursuing wolves came nearer. one huge beast sprang at the sledge and actually fastened his fore paws upon it. i struck him over the head with my gun and he released his hold. a moment later i heard the barking of our dogs at the house, and as the gleam of the lantern caught my eye i fell unconscious to the bottom of the sledge. i woke an hour later and saw kanchin pacing the floor in silence. repeatedly i spoke to him but he answered only in monosyllables. "the next day, a party of peasants went to look for the remains of poor ivan. a few shreds of clothing, and the cross he wore about his neck, were all the vestiges that could be found. for three weeks i lay ill with a fever and returned to st. petersburg immediately on my recovery. kanchin has lived in seclusion ever since, and both of us were gray-haired within six months." before the construction of the railway between moscow and nijne novgorod there were forest guards at regular intervals to protect the road from bears and wolves. the men lived in huts placed upon scaffoldings fifteen or twenty feet high. this arrangement served a double purpose; the guards could see farther than on the ground and they were safe from nocturnal attacks of their four-footed enemies. one evening at a dinner party, i heard several anecdotes about wolves, of which i preserve two. "i was once," said a gentleman, "pursued by ten or twelve wolves. one horse fell and we had just time to cut the traces of the other, overturn our sleigh and get under as in a cage, before the wolves overtook us. we thought the free horse would run to the village and the people would come to rescue us. what was our surprise to see him charge upon the wolves, kill two with his hoofs and drive away the rest. when the other horse recovered we harnessed our team and drove home." "and i," said another, "was once attacked when on foot. i wore a new pelisse of sheep-skin and a pair of reindeer-skin boots. wolves are fond of deer and sheep, and they eat skin and all when they have a chance. the brutes stripped off my pelisse and boots without harming my skin. just as i was preparing to give them my woolen trousers, some peasants came to my relief." although i feared my auditors would be incredulous, i told the story of david crockett when treed by a hundred or more prairie wolves. "i shot away all my ammunition, and threw away my gun and knife among them, but it was no use. finally, i thought i would try the effect of music and began to sing 'old hundred.' before i finished the first verse every wolf put his fore paws to his ears and galloped off." my story did not produce the same results upon my audience, but almost as marked a one, for all appreciated its humor, and before i had fairly finished a burst of laughter resounded through the room, and it was unanimously voted that americans could excel in all things, not excepting wolf stories. [illustration: tail piece] chapter xlviii. the many vehicles in motion made a good road twelve hours after the storm ceased. the thermometer fell quite low, and the sharp frost hardened the track and enabled the horses to run rapidly. i found the temperature varying from ° to ° below zero at different exposures. this was cold enough, in fact, too cold for comfort, and we were obliged to put on all our furs. when fully wrapped i could have filled the eye of any match-making parent in christendom, so far as quantity is concerned. the doctor walked as if the icy and inhospitable north had been his dwelling-place for a dozen generations, and promised to continue so a few hundred years longer. we were about as agile as a pair of prize hogs, or the fat boy in the side show of a circus. my beard was the greatest annoyance that showed itself to my face, and i regretted keeping it uncut. it was in the way in a great many ways. when it was outside my coat i wanted it in, and when it was inside it would not stay there. it froze to my collar and seemed studying the doctrine of affinity. a sudden motion in such case would pull my chin painfully and tear away a few hairs. it was neither long nor heavy, but could hold a surprising quantity of snow and ice. it would freeze into a solid mass, and when thawing required much attention. the russian officers shave the chin habitually, and wear their hair pretty short when traveling. i made a resolution to carry my beard inviolate to st. petersburg, but frequently wished i had been less rash. a mustache makes a very good portable thermometer for low temperatures. after a little practice one can estimate within a few degrees any stage of cold below zero, fahrenheit. a mustache will frost itself from the breath and stiffen slowly at zero, but it does not become solid. it needs no waxing to enable it to hold its own when the scale descends to - ° or thereabouts, and when one experiences - ° and so on downward, he will feel as if wearing an icicle on his upper lip. the estimate of the cold is to be based on the time required for a thorough hardening of this labial ornament, and of course the rule is not available if the face is kept covered. there is a traveler's story that a freezing nose in a russian city is seized upon and rubbed by the bystanders without explanation. in a winter's residence and travel in russia i never witnessed that interesting incident, and am inclined to scepticism regarding it. the thermometer showed - ° while i was in st. petersburg, and hovered near that figure for several days. though i constantly hoped to see somebody's nose rubbed i was doomed to disappointment. i did observe several noses that might have been subjected to friction, but it is quite probable the operation would have enraged the rub_bee_. [illustration: excuse my familiarity.] during our coldest nights on the steppe we had the unclouded heavens in all their beauty. the stars shone in scintillating magnificence, and seemed nearer the earth than i ever saw them before. in the north was a brilliant aurora flashing in long beams of electric light, and forming a fiery arch above the fields of ice and snow. oh, the splendor of those winter nights in the north! it cannot be forgotten, and it cannot be described. twilight is long in a siberian winter, both at the commencement and the close of day. morning is the best time to view it. a faint glimmer appears in the quarter where the sun is to rise, but increases so slowly that one often doubts that he has really seen it. the gleam of light grows broader; the heavens above it become purple, then scarlet, then golden, and gradually change to the whiteness of silver. when the sun peers above the horizon the whole scene becomes dazzlingly brilliant from the reflection of his rays on the snow. in the coldest mornings there is sometimes a cloud or fog-bank resting near the earth, from the congelation and falling of all watery particles in the atmosphere. when the sun strikes this cloud and one looks through it the air seems filled with millions of microscopic gems, throwing off many combinations of prismatic colors, and agitated and mingled by some unseen force. gradually the cloud melts away as it receives the direct rays of light and heat. [illustration: frosted horses.] the intense cold upon the road affects horses by coating them, with white frost. their perspiration congeals and covers them as one may see the grass covered in a november morning. nature has dressed these horses warmly, and very often their hair may justly be called fur. they do not appear to suffer from the cold; they are never blanketed, and their stables are little better than open sheds. one of their annoyances is the congelation of their breath, and in the coldest weather the yemshicks are frequently obliged to break away the icicles that form around their horses' mouths. i have seen a horse reach the end of a course with his nose encircled in a row of icy spikes, resembling the decoration sometimes attached to a weaning calf. in a clear morning or evening of the coldest days the smoke from the chimneys in the villages rises very slowly. gaining a certain height, it spreads out as if unable to ascend farther. it is always light in color and density, and when touched by the sun's rays appears faintly crimsoned or gilded. once when we reached a small hill dominating a village, i could see the cloud of smoke below me agitated like the ground swell of the ocean. i had only a moment to look upon it ere we descended to the level of the street. i have not recorded the incidents of each day on the steppe in chronological order, on account of their similarity and monotony. just one week after our departure from barnaool we observed that the houses were constructed of pine instead of birch, and the country began to change in character. at a station where a fiery-tempered woman required us to pay in advance for our horses, we were only twenty versts from tumen. it is but a step from the sublime to the ridiculous, and it is only a steppe (a thousand miles wide) between tomsk and tumen. travelers from irkutsk to st. petersburg consider their journey pretty nearly accomplished on getting thus far along. the siberians make light of distances that would frighten many americans. "from tumen you will have only sixteen hundred versts to the end of the railway," said a gentleman to me one day. a lady at krasnoyarsk said i ought to wait until spring and visit her gold mines. i asked their locality, and received the reply, "close by here; only four hundred versts away. you can go almost there in a carriage, and will have only a hundred and twenty versts on horseback." the best portion of tumen is on a bluff eighty or a hundred feet above the river tura. the lower town spreads over a wide meadow, and its numerous windmills at once reminded me of stockton, california. we happened to arrive on market day, when the peasants from the surrounding country were gathered in all their glory for purposes of traffic. how such a lot of merchandise of nearly every kind under the siberian sun could find either buyer or seller, it is difficult to imagine. the market-place was densely thronged, but there seemed to be very little traffic in progress. the population of tumen is about twenty thousand, and said to be rapidly increasing. the town is prosperous, as its many new and well-built houses bear witness. it has shorn tobolsk of nearly all her commerce, and left her to mourn her former greatness. it is about three hundred versts from the ridge of the urals, and at the head of navigation on the tura. half a dozen steamers were frozen in and awaited the return of spring, their machinery being stored to prevent its rusting. in the public square of tumen there was a fountain, the first i saw in siberia. men, women, boys, and girls were filling buckets and barrels, which they dragged away on sleds. when we returned from our drive, and were seated at dinner, the cook brought a quantity of "tumen carpets" for sale. he used all his eloquence upon me, but in vain. these carpets were made by hand in the villages around tumen, their material being goat's hair. from their appearance i judged that a coarse cloth was "looped" full of thread, which was afterward cut to a plush surface. some of the figures were quite pretty. these carpets can be found in nearly every peasant house in western siberia, where they are used as bed and table coverings, floor mats, and carriage robes. from tumen to nijne novgorod the post is in the hands of a company, and one can buy a ticket for any distance he chooses. we bought to ekaterineburg, versts, paying nine copecks a verst for each vehicle. at the stations it is only necessary to show the ticket, which will bring horses without delay. the company has a splendid monopoly, protected by an imperial order forbidding competition. the peasants would gladly take travelers at lower rates if the practice were permitted. the only thing they can do is to charter their horses to the company at about one-third the ticket prices. alexander would make many friends among the people by curtailing the monopoly. from the tura the country became undulating as we approached the urals, but we passed no rugged hills. a great deal of the road lay between double rows of birch trees, that serve for shade in summer and do much to prevent the drifting of snow in winter. forests of fir appeared on the slopes, and were especially pleasing after the half-desolation of the steppe. the villages had a larger and more substantial appearance, that indicated our approach to europe. long trains laden with freight from perm, blocked the way and delayed us. a few collisions made our sleigh tremble, and in two instances turned it on its beam ends. we were ahead of the tea trains that left irkutsk with the early snows, so that we passed few sledges going in our own direction. the second night found us so near ekaterineburg that we halted a couple of hours for the double purpose of taking tea and losing time. at the last station, about six in the morning, we were greeted with christmas festivities. while we waited in the traveler's room, two boys sung or chanted several minutes, and then begged for money. we gave them a few copecks, and their success brought two others, who were driven away by the smotretal. i was told that poor children have a privilege of begging in this manner on christmas morning. there are many beggars in the towns and villages of the urals, and in summer there is a fair supply of highwaymen. several beggars surrounded our sleigh as we prepared to depart and seemed determined to make the most of the occasion. the undulations of the road increased, and the fir woods became thicker as we approached ekaterineburg, nestled on the bank of the isset. just outside the town we passed a large zavod, devoted to the manufacture of candles. an immense quantity of tallow from the kirghese steppes undergoes conversion into stearine at this establishment, and the production supplies candles to all siberia and part of european russia. as we entered the _slobodka_ and descended rapidly toward the river, the bells were clanging loudly and the population was generally on its way to church. the men were in their best shoobas and caps, while the women displayed the latest fashions in winter cloaks. several pretty faces, rosy from the biting frost, peered at the strangers, who returned as many glances as possible. our yemshick took us to the hotel de berlin, and, for the first time in eighteen hundred versts, we unloaded our baggage from the sleighs. breakfast, a bath, and a change of clothes prepared me for the sights of this uralian city. for sight-seeing, the time of my arrival was unfortunate. every kind of work was suspended, every shop was closed, and nothing could be done until the end of the christmas holidays. i especially desired to inspect the _granilnoi fabric_, or imperial establishment for stone cutting, and the machine shop where all steam engines for siberia are manufactured. but, as everything had yielded to the general festivities, i could not gratify my desire. ekaterineburg is on the asiatic side of the urals, though belonging to the european government of perm. it has a beautiful situation, the isset being dammed so as to form a small lake in the middle of the city. many of the best houses overlook this lake, and, from their balconies, one can enjoy charming views of the city, water, and the dark forests of the urals. the principal street and favorite drive passes at the end of the lake, and is pretty well thronged in fine weather. there are many wealthy citizens in ekaterineburg, as the character of the houses will attest. i was told there was quite a rage among them for statuary, pictures, and other works of art. special care is bestowed upon conservatories, some of which contain tropical plants imported at enormous expense. the population is about twenty thousand, and increases very slowly. [illustration: view of ekaterineburg.] the city is the central point of mining enterprises of the ural mountains, and the residence of the nachalnik, or chief of mines. the general plan of management is much like that already described at barnaool. the government mines include those of iron, copper, and gold, the latter being of least importance. great quantities of shot, shell, and guns have been made in the urals, as well as iron work for more peaceful purposes. beside the government works, there are numerous foundries and manufactories of a private character. in various parts of the ural chain some of the zavods are of immense extent, and employ large numbers of workmen. at nijne tagilsk, for example, there is a population of twenty-five thousand, all engaged directly or indirectly in the production of iron. the sheet iron so popular in america for parlor stoves and stove pipe, comes from ekaterineburg and its vicinity, and is made from magnetic ore. the bar iron of the urals is famous the world over for its excellent qualities, and commands a higher price than any other. great quantities of iron are floated in boats down the streams flowing into the kama and volga. thence it goes to the fair at nijne novgorod, and to the points of shipment to the maritime markets. the development of the wealth of the urals has been largely due to the demidoff family. nikite demidoff was sent by peter the great, about the year , to examine the mines on both sides of the chain. he performed his work thoroughly, and was so well satisfied with the prospective wealth of the region that he established himself there permanently. in return for his services, the government granted a large tract to the demidoffs in perpetuity. the famous malachite mines are on the demidoff estate, but are only a small portion of the mineral wealth in the original grant. i have heard the demidoff family called the richest in russia--except the romanoff. many zavods in the urals were planned and constructed by nikite and his descendants, and most of them are still in successful operation and have undergone no change. the iron works of the urals are very extensive, and capable of supplying any reasonable demand of individual or imperial character. at zlatoust there is a manufactory of firearms and sword blades that is said to be unsurpassed in the excellence of its products. the sabres from zlatoust are of superior fineness and quality, rivaling the famous blades of damascus and toledo. close by the little lake in ekaterineburg is the _moneta fabric,_ or imperial mint, where all the copper money of russia is coined. it is an extensive concern, and most of its machinery was constructed in the city. the copper mines of the urals are the richest in russia, and possess inexhaustible wealth. malachite--an oxide of copper--is found here in large quantities. i believe the only mines where malachite is worked are in the urals, though small specimens of this beautiful mineral have been found near lake superior and in australia. about twenty-five years ago an enormous mass of malachite, said to weigh tons, was discovered near tagilsk. it has since been broken up and removed, its value being more than a million roubles. sir roderick murchison, while exploring the urals on behalf of the russian government, saw this treasure while the excavations around it were in progress. according to his account it was found feet below the surface. strings of copper were followed by the miners until they unexpectedly reached the malachite. other masses of far less importance have since been found, some of them containing sixty per cent. of copper. the gold mines of the ural are less extensive now than formerly, new discoveries not equaling the exhausted placers. they are principally on the asiatic slope, in the vicinity of kamenskoi. the emperor alexander first visited the mines of the ural in , and personally wielded the shovel and pickaxe nearly two hours. a nugget weighing twenty-four pounds and some ounces was afterward found about two feet ibelow the point where his majesty 'knocked off' work. a monument now marks the spot, and contains the tools handled by the emperor. chapter xlix. i had several commissions to execute for the purchase of souvenirs at ekaterineburg, and lost no time in visiting a dealer. while we were at breakfast an itinerant merchant called, and subsequently another accosted us on the street. at ordinary times, strangers are beset by men and boys who are walking cabinets of semi-precious stones. a small boy met me in the corridor of the hotel and repeated a lapidarious vocabulary that would have shamed a professor of mineralogy. at the dealer's, i was very soon in a bewildering collection of amethyst, beryl, chalcedony, topaz, tourmaline, jasper, aquamarine, malachite, and other articles of value. the collection numbered many hundred pieces comprising seals, paper, weights, beads, charms for watch chains, vases, statuettes, brooches, buttons, etc. the handles of seals were cut in a variety of ways, some representing animals or birds, while a goodly portion were plain or fluted at the sides. the prettiest work i saw was in paper weights. there were imitations of leaves, flowers, and grapes in properly tinted stone fixed upon marble tablets either white or colored. equal skill was displayed in arranging and cutting these stones. i saw many beautiful mosaics displaying the stones of the ural and altai mountains. natural crystals were finely arranged in the shape of miniature caves and grottoes. beads were of malachite, crystal, topaz, and variegated marble, and seemed quite plentiful. malachite is the most abundant of the half-precious stones of the ural, crystal and topaz ranking next. aquamarine was the most valuable stone offered. it is not found in the urals but comes from eastern siberia. in another establishment there were little busts of the emperor and other high personages in russia, cut in crystal and topaz. i saw a fine bust of yermak, and another of the elder demidoff, both in topaz. a crystal bust of louis napoleon was exhibited, and its owner told me it would be sent to the _exposition universelle_. learning that i was an american, the proprietor showed me a half completed bust of mr. lincoln, and was gratified to learn that the likeness was good. the bust was cut in topaz, and when finished would be about six inches high. though no work was in progress i had opportunity to look through a private "fabric." stone cutting is performed as by lapidaries every where with small wheels covered with diamond dust or emery. each laborer has his bench and performs a particular part of the work under the direction of a superintendent. wages were very low, skilled workmen being paid less than ordinary stevedores in america. for three roubles, i bought a twelve sided topaz, an inch in diameter with the signs of the zodiac neatly engraved upon it. in london or new york, the cutting would have cost more than ten times that amount. the granilnoi fabric employs about a hundred and fifty workmen, but no private establishment supports more than twenty-five. the granilnoi fabric was to be sold in , and pass out of government control. the laborers there were formerly crown peasants, and became free under the abolition ukase of alexander ii. the palace and imperial museum at st. petersburg contain wonderful illustrations of their skill. diamonds have been sought in the urals, and the region is said to resemble the diamond districts of brazil. they have been found in but a single instance, and there is a suspicion that the few discovered on that occasion were a "plant." we remained two days at ekaterineburg, repairing sleighs and resting from fatigue. on account of the holidays, we paid double prices for labor, and were charged double by drosky drivers. at the hotel, the landlord wished to follow the same custom, but we emphatically objected. a theatrical performance came off during our stay, but we were too weary to witness it. near the hotel there was a "live beast show" almost an exact counterpart of what one sees in america. music, voluble doorkeepers, gaping crowd of youngsters, and canvas pictures of terrific combats between beasts and snakes, all were there. according to our custom we prepared to start in the evening for another westward stride. the thermometer was low enough to give the snow that crisp, metallic sound under the runners only heard in cold weather. we took tickets for kazan, and ordered horses at nine o'clock. as we left the city, we passed between two monument-like posts, marking the gateway. two or three versts away, we passed the zavod of verkne issetskoi, an immense concern with a population sufficient to found a score of western cities. in this establishment is made a great deal of the sheet-iron that comes to america. the material is of so fine a quality that it can be rolled to the thickness of letter paper without breaking. every thing at the zavod is on a grand scale even to the house of the director, and his facilities for entertaining guests. all was silent at the time of our passage, the workmen being busy with their christmas festivities. leaving the zavod we were once more among the forests of the urals, and riding over the low hills that form this part of the range. the road was good, but there were more _oukhabas_ than suited my fancy. i was on constant lookout for the steep road leading over the range, but failed to find it. before leaving new york a friend suggested that i should have a severe journey over the ural mountains which were deeply shaded on the map we consulted. i can assure him it was no worse than a sleigh ride anywhere else on a clear, frosty night. the ascent is so gradual that one does not perceive it at all. ekaterineburg stands eight hundred feet above the sea; the pass, twenty-four miles distant, is only nine hundred feet higher. the range is depressed at this point, but nowhere attains sufficient loftiness to justify its prominence on the maps. in ekaterineburg i asked for the mountains. "there they are," said the person of whom i enquired, and he waved his hand toward a wooded ridge in the west. the designated locality appeared less difficult of passage than the hills opposite cincinnati. "don't fail to tell the yemshick to stop at the boundary." this was my injunction several times repeated as we changed horses at the first station. eight or ten versts on our second course, the sleigh halted and the yemshick announced the highest point on the road. i stepped from the sleigh and waded through a deep snowdrift to the granite obelisk erected by the first alexander to mark the line between the two continents. it is a plain shaft--- bunker hill monument in miniature--bearing the word "europe" on one side, and "asia" on the other. two fir trees planted by his august majesty are on opposite sides of the monument. [illustration: europe and asia.] a snow-drift in the middle of a frosty night is not the place for sentimental musings. i rested a foot in each of two continents at the same moment, but could not discover any difference in their manners, customs, or climate. regaining the sleigh, i nestled into my furs, and soon fell asleep. i was in europe. i had accomplished the hope and dream of my boyhood. but in my most romantic moments, i had not expected to stand for the first time in europe on the ridge of the ural mountains. [illustration: a russian beggar.] after passing the boundary, we dashed away over the undulating road, and made a steady though, imperceptible descent into the valley of the kama. as i commenced my first day in europe, the sunbeams wavered and glistened on the frost-crystals that covered the trees, and the flood of light that poured full into my opening eyes was painfully dazzling. where we halted for breakfast, the station was neat and commodious, and its rooms well furnished. we fared sumptuously on cutlets and eggs, with excellent bread. just as we were seated in the sleigh, a beggar made a touching appeal, as explained by the doctor, in behalf of the prophet elias. the prophet's financial agent was of so unprepossessing appearance that we declined investing. beggars often ask alms in the interest of particular saints, and this one had attached himself to elias. we met many sledges laden with goods _en route_ to the fair which takes place every february at irbit. this fair is of great importance to siberia, and attracts merchants from all the region west of tomsk. from forty to fifty million roubles worth of goods are exchanged there during the four weeks devoted to traffic. the commodities from siberia are chiefly furs and tea, those from europe comprise a great many articles. irbit is on the asiatic side of the ural mountains, about two hundred versts northeast of ekaterineburg. it is a place of little consequence except during the time of the fair. after entering europe, we relied upon the stations for our meals, carrying no provisions with us except tea and sugar. we knew the peasants would be well supplied with edibles during christmas holidays, and were quite safe in depending upon them. a traveler in russia must consult the calendar before starting on a journey, if he would ascertain what provision he may, or may not, find among the people. congour was the first town of importance, and has an unenviable reputation for its numerous thieves. they do not molest the post vehicles unless the opportunity is very favorable, their accomplishments being specially exercised upon merchandise trains. sometimes when trains pass through congour the natives manage to steal single vehicles and their loads. the operation is facilitated by there being only one driver to five or six teams. this town is also famous for its tanneries, the leather from congour having a high reputation throughout russia. peter the great was at much trouble to teach the art of tanning to his subjects. at present, the russians have very little to learn from others on that score. peter introduced tanning from holland and germany, and when the first piece of leather tanned in russia was brought to him he took it between his teeth and exerted all the strength of his jaws to bite through it. the leather resisted his efforts, and so delighted the monarch that he decreed a pension to the successful tanner. the specimen, with the marks of his teeth upon it, is still preserved at st. petersburg. while waiting for dinner at congour, i contemplated some engravings hanging in the public room at the station. four of them represented scenes in "elizabeth, or the exiles of siberia," a story which has been translated into most modern languages. these engravings were made in moscow several years ago, and illustrated the most prominent incidents in the narrative. there were many things to remind me i was no longer in siberia, and especially on the baraba steppe. snows were deeper, and the sky was clearer. the level country was replaced by a broken one. forests of pine and fir displayed regular clearings, and evinced careful attention. villages were more numerous, larger and of greater antiquity. stations were better kept and had more the air of hotels. churches appeared more venerable and less venerated. beggars increased in number, and importunity. in asia the yemshick was the only man at a station who asked "navodku," but in europe the _chelavek_ or _starost_ expected to be remembered. in asia, the gratuity was called "navodku" or whisky money; in europe, it was "_nachi_," tea money. during the second night, we reached perm and halted long enough to eat a supper that made me dream of tigers and polar bears during my first sleep. in entering, we drove along a lighted street with substantial houses on either side, but without meeting man or beast. this street and the station were all i saw of a city of , inhabitants. in summer travelers for siberia usually leave the steamboat at this point, and begin their land journey, the kama being navigable thus far in ordinary water. perm is an important mining center, and contains several foundries and manufactories on an extensive scale. the doctor assured me that after the places i had visited in siberia, there was nothing to be seen there--and i saw it. a deep snow had been trodden into an uneven road in this part of the journey. at times it seemed to me as if the sleigh and all it contained would go to pieces in the terrific thumps we received. we descended hills as if pursued by wolves or a guilty conscience, and it was generally our fate to find a huge oukhaba just when the horses were doing their best. i think the sleigh sometimes made a clear leap of six or eight feet from the crest of a ridge to the bottom of a hollow. the leaping was not very objectionable, but the impact made everything rattle. i could say, like the irishman who fell from a house top, "'twas not the fall, darling, that hurt me, but stopping so quick at the end." when the roads are rough the continual jolting of the sleigh is very fatiguing to a traveler, and frequently, during the first two or three days of his journey, throws him into what is very properly designated the road fever. his pulse is quick, his blood warm, his head aches, his whole frame becomes sore and stiff, and his mind is far from being serene and amiable. in the first part of my land journey i had the satisfaction of ascertaining by practical experience the exact character of the road-fever. my brain seemed ready to burst, and appeared to my excited imagination about as large as a barrel; every fresh jolt and thump of the vehicle gave me a sensation as if somebody were driving a tenpenny nail into my skull; as for good-nature under such circumstances that was out of the question, and i am free to confess that my temper was not unlike that of a bear with a sore head. where the roads are good, or if the speed is not great, one can sleep very well in a russian sleigh; i succeeded in extracting a great deal of slumber from my vehicle, and sometimes did not wake for three or four hours. sometimes the roads are in such wretched condition that one is tossed to the height of discomfort, and can be very well likened to a lump of butter in a revolving churn. in such cases sleep is almost if not wholly, impossible, and the traveler, proceeding at courier speed, must take advantage of the few moments' halt at the stations while the horses are being changed. as he has but ten or fifteen minutes for the change he makes good use of his time and sleeps very soundly until his team is ready. during the crimean war, while the emperor nicholas was temporarily sojourning at moscow, a courier arrived one day with important dispatches from sebastopol. he was commissioned to deliver them to no one but his majesty, and waited in the ante-room of the palace while his name and business were announced. overcome by fatigue he fell asleep; when the chamberlains came to take him to the imperial presence they were quite unable to rouse him. the attendants shook him and shouted, but to no purpose beyond making so much disturbance as to bring the emperor to the ante-room. nicholas ordered them to desist, and then, standing near the officer, said, in an ordinary voice, "_vashe prevoschoditelstvo, loshadi gotovey_" (your horses are ready, your excellency). the officer sprang to his feet in an instant, greatly to the delight of the emperor and to his own confusion when he discovered where he was. the russians have several popular songs that celebrate the glories of sleigh-riding. i give a translation of a portion of one of them, a song that is frequently repeated by the peasants in the vicinity of moscow and nijne novgorod. it is proper to explain that a _troika_ is a team of three horses abreast, the _douga_ is the yoke above the shaft-horse's neck, and valdai is the town on the moscow and st. petersburg road where the best and most famous bells of russia are made. a russian sleighing song. away, away, along the road the fiery troika bounds, while 'neath the douga, sadly sweet, the valdai bell resounds. away, away, we leave the town, its roofs and spires behind, the crystal snow-flakes dance around as o'er the steppe we wind. away, away, the glittering stars shine greeting from above, our hearts beat fast as on we glide, swift as the flying dove. chapter l. we found the road much better after leaving the government of perm and entering that of viatka. the yemshicks we took in this region were "votiaks," descendants of the finnish races that dwelt there before the russian conquest. they had the dark physiognomy of the finns, and spoke a mixture of their own language and russian. they have been generally baptized and brought into the greek churches, though they still adhere to some of their ancient forms of worship. they pay taxes to the crown, but their local administration is left to themselves. approaching malmouish we had a sullen driver who insisted upon going slowly, even while descending hills. indignantly i suggested giving the fellow a kick for his drink money. the doctor attempted to be stern and reproved the delinquent, but ended with giving him five copecks and an injunction to do better in future. i opposed making undeserved gratuities, and after this occurrence determined to say no more about rewards to drivers during the rest of the journey. memorandum for travelers making the siberian tour: an irritable disposition, (like mine,) should not be placed with an amiable one, (like the doctor's.) if misery loves company, so does anger; and a petulant man should have an associate who _can_ be ruffled. after leaving the votiaks, we entered the country of the tartars, the descendants of the followers of genghis khan, who carried the mongol standard into central europe. russia remained long under their yoke, and the tartars of the present day live as a distinct people in various parts of the empire. they are nearly all mohammedans, and the conversion of one of them to christianity is a very rare occurrence. my attention was called to their mosques in the villages we passed, the construction being quite unlike that of the russian churches. a tall spire or minaret, somewhat like the steeple of an american church, rises in the center of a tartar mosque and generally overlooks the whole village. no bells are used, the people being called to prayer by the voice of a crier. these tartars have none of the warlike spirit of their ancestors, and are among the most peaceful subjects of the russian emperor. they are industrious and enterprising, and manage to live comfortably. their reputation for shrewdness doubtless gave rise to the story of the difficulty of catching a tartar. at the stations we generally found russian smotretals with tartar attendants. blacksmiths, looking for jobs, carefully examined our sleighs. one found my shafts badly chafed where they touched the runners, and offered to iron the weak points for sixty copecks. i objected to the delay for preparing the irons. "_grotovey, grotovey; piet minute_" said the man, producing the ready prepared irons from one pocket and a hammer and nails from another. by the time the horses were led out the job was completed. i should have been better satisfied if one iron had not come off within two hours, and left the shaft as bare as ever. the tartars speak russian very fairly, but use the mongol language among themselves. they dress like the russians, or very nearly so, the most distinguishing feature being a sort of skull cap like that worn by the chinese. their hair is cut like a prize fighter's, excepting a little tuft on the crown. out of doors they wore the russian cap over their mohammedan one--unconsciously symbolizing their subjection to muscovite rule. these tartars drove horses of the same race as those in the baraba steppe. they carried us finely where the road permitted, and i had equal admiration for the powers of the horses and the skill of their drivers. in the night, after passing malmouish, the weather became warm. i laid aside my dehar only a half hour before the thermometer fell, and set me shivering. about daybreak it was warmer, and the increasing temperature ushered in a violent storm. it snowed and it blowed, and it was cold, frosty weather all day and all night. we closed the sleigh and attempted to exclude the snow, but our efforts were vain. the little crevices admitted enough to cover us in a short time, and we very soon concluded to let the wind have its own way. the road was filled, and in many places we had hard work to get through. how the yemshicks found the way was a mystery. once at a station, when the smotretal announced "gotovey," i was actually unable to find the sleigh, though it stood not twenty feet from the door. the yemshicks said they were guided by the telegraph posts, which followed the line of road. we were four hours making twenty-five versts to the last station before reaching kazan. we took a hearty supper of soup, eggs, and bread, under a suspicion that we might remain out all night. once the mammoth sleigh came up with us in the dark, and its shafts nearly ran us through. collisions of this kind happened occasionally on the road, but were rarely as forcible as this one. we were twice on our beam ends and nearly overturned, and on several occasions stuck in the snow. by good luck we managed to arrive at kazan about a. m. on reaching the hotel, we were confronted by what i thought a snow statue, but which proved to be the _dvornik_, or watchman. our baggage was taken up stairs, while we shook the snow from our furs. the samovar shortened our visages and filled our stomachs with tea. we retired to rest upon sofas and did not rise until a late hour. it happened to be new year's, and the fashionable society of kazan was doing its congratulations. i drove through the principal part of the city and found an animated scene. numberless and numbered droskies were darting through the streets, carrying gayly dressed officers making their ceremonious calls. soldiers were parading with bands of music, and the lower classes were out in large numbers. the storm had ceased, the weather was warm, and everything was propitious for out-door exercise. the soldiers were the first i had seen since entering europe, and impressed me favorably with the russian army. they wore grey uniforms, like those i saw in siberia, and marched with a regular and steady stride. it was not till i had reached st. petersburg that i saw the _elite_ of the emperor's military forces. the reforms of alexander have not left the army untouched. great improvements have been made in the last twelve or fifteen years. more attention has been paid to the private soldiers than heretofore, their pay being increased and time of service lessened. the imperial family preserves its military character, and the present emperor allows no laxity of discipline in his efforts to elevate the men in the ranks. it is said of the grand duke michel, uncle of alexander ii., that he was a most rigid disciplinarian. his great delight was in parades, and he never overlooked the least irregularity. not a button, not a moustache even, escaped his notice, and whoever was not _en regle_ was certain to be punished. he is reported to have said,-- "i detest war. it breaks the ranks, deranges the soldiers, and soils their uniforms."[f] [footnote f: the land forces of russia are formed of two descriptions of troops--the regular troops properly so called, and the feudal militia of the cossacks and similar tribes. the regular army is recruited from the classes of peasants and artisans partly and principally by means of a conscription, partly by the adoption of the sons of soldiers, and partly by voluntary enlistment. every individual belonging to these classes is, with a few exceptions, liable to compulsory service, provided he be of the proper age and stature. the nominal strength of the russian army, according to the returns of the ministry of war, is as follows: . _regular army_. peace-footing. war-footing. infantry......... , , cavalry.......... , , artillery........ , , engineers........ , , ------- ------- total.................. , , . _army of first reserve_. troops of the line........ , , garrison in regiments..... , , garrison in battalions.... , , ------- ------- total................... , , . _army of second reserve_. troops of all arms........ , , ------- --------- general total........... , , , among the irregular troops of russia, the most important are the cossacks. the country of the don cossacks contains from , to , inhabitants. in case of necessity, every cossack, from to years, is bound to render military service. the usual regular military force, however, consists of cavalry regiments, each numbering , men, making a total of , . the cossacks are reckoned in round numbers as follows: in military heads. service. on the black sea............................ , , great russian cossacks on the caucasian line , , don cossacks................................ , , ural cossacks............................... , , orenburg cossacks........................... , , siberian cossacks........................... , , ------- ------- total..................................... , , the russian navy consists of two great divisions--the fleet of the baltic and that of the black sea. each of these two fleets is again subdivided into sections, of which three are in or near the baltic and three in or near the black sea, to which must be added the small squadrons of galleys, gunboats, and similar vessels. according to an official report, the russian fleet consisted last year of steamers, having , horse power, with , guns, besides sailing vessels, with guns. the greater and more formidable part of this navy was stationed in the baltic. the black sea fleet numbered ; the caspian, ; the siberian or pacific, ; and the lake aral or turkistan squadron, vessels. the rest of the ships were either stationed at kronstadt and sweaborg or engaged in cruising in european waters. the iron-clad fleet of war consisted, at the commencement of , of vessels, with an aggregate of guns, as follows: frigates, one of , and one of guns.... guns. floating batteries of , , and guns.. guns. corvettes of guns........................ guns. monitors of guns each.................... guns. turret ships of guns each................ guns. -- --- total, iron-clads with............................ guns. the imperial navy was manned at the beginning of by , sailors and marines, under the command of , officers, among whom are admirals and generals.] i had a letter to colonel molostoff, the brother of a siberian friend and _compagnon du voyage_. i knew the colonel would not be at home on the first day of the year, as he had many relatives and friends to visit. so i sent the letter to his house, and accompanied schmidt on a call upon dr. freeze, a prominent physician of kazan. madam freeze was a native of heidelburg, and evidently loved the rhine better than the volga. she gave me a letter to her brother in moscow, where she promised me an introduction to a niece of the poet goethe. in the evening colonel molostoff called at the hotel and took me to the new year's ball of the nobility of kazan. there was a maze of apartments belonging to the nobility club,--the dancing room being quite as elegant and as spacious as the large hall of the fifth avenue hotel. i found files of english, french, and german papers in the reading-room, and spent a little while over the latest news from america. the male portion of the assemblage consisted of officers and civilians, the former in the majority. there was a perfect blaze of stars and gay uniforms, that quite outshone the evening dress of the civilians. as kazan is old, populous, and wealthy, it is needless to add that the ladies were dressed just like those of st. petersburg or paris. i was introduced to several officials, among them the governor, who had recently assumed command. colonel molostoff introduced me to three ladies who spoke english, but hardly had i opened conversation with the first before she was whisked away into the dance. the second and the third followed the same fate, and i began to look upon ball-room acquaintance as an uncertainty. "now," said the colonel, "i will introduce you to one who is not young, but she is charming, and does not dance." we went to seek her, but she was in the midst of a gay party just preparing for a visit to the lunch room. i was so utterly wearied after my long ride that conversation was a great effort, and i could hardly keep my eyes from closing. i had promised to join a supper party at three o'clock, but midnight found me just able to stand. fearful that i might bring discredit upon america by going to sleep during the festivities, i begged an excuse and returned to my hotel. five minutes after entering my room i was in the land of dreams. in the treasury of the kremlin of moscow the royal crown of kazan is preserved. the descendants of genghis khan founded the city and made it the seat of their european power. for three centuries it remained a menace to russia, and held the princes of muscovy in fear and dread. but as the russians grew in strength kazan became weaker, and ultimately fell under the muscovite control. ivan the terrible determined to drive the tartars from the banks of the volga. after three severe and disastrous campaigns, and a siege in which assailant and assailed displayed prodigies of valor, kazan was stormed and captured. the kingdom was overthrown, and the russian power extended to the urals. the cruelties of ivan the terrible were partially forgiven in return for his breaking the tartar yoke. a pyramidal monument marks the burial place of the russians who fell at the capture of the city, and the positions of the besiegers are still pointed out; but i believe no traces of the circumvallation are visible. the walls of the tartar fortress form a part of the present kremlin, but have been so rebuilt and enlarged that their distinctive character is gone. nicholas called kazan the third capital of his empire, and the city is generally admitted first in importance after st. petersburg and moscow. its position is well chosen on the banks of a small river, the kazanka, which joins the volga six versts away. on a high bluff stretching into a plateau in the rear of the city and frowning defiantly toward the west, its position is a commanding one. on the edge of this bluff is the kremlin, with its thick and high walls enclosing the governor's palace and other public buildings, all overlooked by a lofty bell-tower. every part of the city gives evidence of wealth. the population is about sixty thousand, including, i presume, the military garrison. there are twelve or fifteen thousand tartars, who live in a quarter of the city specially assigned them. they are said to be industrious and peaceful, and some of them have amassed great wealth. i saw a tartar merchant at the ball on new year's eve, and was told that his fortune was one of the best in kazan. i can testify personally to the energy of tartar peddlers. on my first morning at the hotel i was visited by itinerant dealers in hats, boots, dressing gowns, and other articles of wear. the tartars at moscow are no less active than their brethren of kazan, and very shrewd in their dealings. every one of them appears to believe that strangers visit russia for the sole purpose of buying dressing gowns. i took a drive through the tartar quarter, or _katai gorod_, of kazan, and inspected (but did not read) the signs over the shops. the houses are little different from those in the russian quarter, and the general appearance of the streets was the same. i glanced at several female faces in defiance of mohammedan law, which forbids women unveiling before strangers. on one occasion when no tartar men were visible, a young and pretty woman removed her veil and evidently desired to be looked at. i satisfied my curiosity, and expressed admiration in all the complimentary russian adjectives i could remember. as we passed a butcher's shop, my isvoshchik intimated that horse meat was sold there. the tartars are fond of equine flesh, and prefer it to beef. on the kirghese steppes the horse is prominent in gastronomic festivities. kazan is famous throughout russia for the extent and variety of its manufactures. russians and tartars are alike engaged in them, and the products of their industry bear a good reputation. the city has printing establishments on an extensive scale, one of them devoted to tartar literature. several editions of the koran have been printed here for the faithful in northern and central asia. the university of kazan is one of the most celebrated institutions of learning in russia, and has an excellent board of professors. special attention is devoted to the asiatic languages and literature, but no other branch of knowledge is neglected. i met the professor of persian literature, and found him speaking english and french fluently. i was invited to look through the museum and cabinet attached to the university, but time did not permit. there is a ladies' seminary in equally good reputation for its educational facilities. one morning, about two weeks before my arrival at kazan, the early risers passing this seminary discovered the body of a young man hanging upon the fence. it was clad only in a shirt, and no other clothing could be found. no one recognized the features of the individual, and the occupants of the seminary professed utter ignorance of the affair. as might be expected, great excitement followed the discovery. visits of the sterner sex were absolutely forbidden, and the young maidens in the building were placed under surveillance. the gentleman who told me the story, said: "it is very strange, especially as the public can learn nothing about the young man's identity." while conversing with a high official at nijne novgorod, a few days later, i referred to this affair and expressed my surprise that the police could not trace it out. "that is to say," he replied, with a shrug of the shoulders, "that the police have suppressed the particulars. it is a scandalous occurrence that may as well be kept from the public." one thing was quite certain: if the police thought proper to conceal the details of this affair, there was no likelihood of their publication. in russia the police exercise a power much greater than in the united states. those who have visited france and austria can form a pretty correct idea of the russian system, the three countries being nearly alike in this respect. the police has supervision over the people in a variety of ways; controls the fire department, looks after the general health, and provides for the well-being of society. every man, woman, and child is considered under its surveillance, and accounted for by some member of the force. passports are examined by the police, and if _en regle_, the owners are not likely to be troubled. taxes are collected, quarrels adjusted, and debts paid through its agency. almost everybody has heard of the secret police of russia, and many questions have been asked me about it. i cannot throw much light upon it, and if i could it would not be a secret police. i never knowingly came in contact with the shadow, neither did i have the slightest reason to fear it. if my letters were opened and read, those familiar with my manuscript will agree that the police had a hard time of it. if anybody dogged my steps or drew me into conversation to report my opinions at the _bureau secret_, i never knew it. the servants who brought my cutlets and tea, the woman who washed my linen, or the dvornik who guarded the door, may have been spies upon me; but, if so, i didn't see it. where ignorance is bliss, 'tis folly to be wise. people talk politics in russia with apparent freedom, more so than i expected to find. men and women expressed their opinions with candor (as i believe,) and criticised what they saw wrong in their government. the russian journals possess more freedom than those of paris, and the theatres can play pretty nearly what they like. official tyranny or dishonesty can be shown up by the press or satirized on the stage more freely and safely than in the country of napoleon third, with all its boasted freedom. i once read a story in which an englishman in austria is represented saying to his companion, "no gentleman meddles with the politics of the countries he visits." i made it my rule in russia never to start the subject of politics in conversation with anybody. very often it was started, and i then spoke as freely as i would have spoken in new york. if my opinion was asked upon any point, i gave it frankly, but never volunteered it. i believe the golden rule a good one for a traveler. we americans would think it very rude for a foreigner to come here and point out to us our faults. but for all that, a great many of us visit europe and have no hesitation in telling the subjects of the various monarchies a variety of impolite truths. during the reign of nicholas, the secret police was much more extensive than at present. the occurrences of and subsequent years led to a close surveillance of men in all stations of life. it was said under nicholas that when three men were assembled, one was a spy and another might be. doubtless the espionage was rigid, but i never heard that it affected those who said or did nothing objectionable. under alexander ii. the stability of the throne hardly requires the aid of a detective force, and, if what i was told be true, it receives very little. the police have a standing order to arrest any person who speaks to the emperor in the promenade at the public garden. one day nicholas recognized in the crowd a favorite comedian, and accosted him with a few words of encouragement. the actor thanked his majesty for his approval, and the two separated. a stupid policeman arrested the actor, and hurried him to prison on the charge of violating the law. "but the emperor spoke to me first," was the apology. "no matter," replied the policeman; "you spoke to the emperor, and must be arrested." at the theatre that evening nicholas was in the imperial box, utterly ignorant of what had occurred to his favorite. the performance was delayed, the audience impatient, manager frantic, and the emperor finally sent to know the cause of the curtain remaining down. the actor did not come, and after waiting some time, his majesty went home. next morning the prisoner was released, and during the day the emperor learned what had occurred. sending for the victim of police stupidity, he asked what reparation could be made for his night in prison. "i beg your majesty," was the frank request, "never to speak to me again in the public garden." nicholas promised compliance. he also made a pecuniary testimonial at the comedian's next benefit. chapter li. dr. schmidt sold his sleigh and left kazan by diligence the day after our arrival. i remained four days, and, when ready to start, managed to pick up a young russian who was going to nijne novgorod. each of us spoke two languages, but we had no common tongue. i brushed up all the russian i had learned, and compelled it to perform very active service. before our companionship ended i was astonished to find what an extensive business of conversation could be conducted with a limited capital of words. our communications were fragmentary and sometimes obscure, but we rarely became "hopelessly stuck." when my knowledge of spoken words failed i had recourse to a "manual of russian-english conversation," in which there were phrases on all sorts of topics. examining the book at leisure one would think it abundantly fertile; but when i desired a particular phrase it was rarely to be found. as a last resource we tried latin, but i could not remember a hundred words out of all my classics. a regular thaw had set in, and the streets were in a condition of 'slosh' that reminded me of broadway in spring. when we left the hotel, a crowd of attendants gathered to be remembered pecuniarily. the yemshick tied his horses' tails in the tightest of knots to prevent their filling with snow and water. at the western gate we found a jam of sleds and sleighs, where we stuck for nearly half an hour, despite the efforts of two soldier policemen. when able to proceed we traversed a high causeway spanning the kazanka valley and emerged into a suburb containing a large foundry. a mosque and a church, side by side, symbolized the harmony between tartar and russian. passing this suburb we reached the winter station of many steamboats and barges, among which we threaded our way. seven versts from kazan we reached the bank of the volga. the first view of the road upon the river was not inviting. there were many pools of surface water, and the continuous travel had worn deep hollows in the snow and ice. some of the pools into which our yemshick drove appeared about as safe as a mill-pond in may. as the fellow ought to know his route i said nothing, and let him have his own way. we met a great many sleds carrying merchandise, and passed a train going in our direction. one driver carelessly riding on his load was rolled overboard, and fell sidewise into a deep mass of snow and water. he uttered an imprecation, and rose dripping like a boiled cabbage just lifted out of a dinner pot. we headed obliquely across the river toward a dozen tow-boats frozen in the ice. the navigation of the volga employs more than four hundred steamers, three-fourths of which are tows. dead walls in kazan frequently displayed flaming announcements, that reminded me of st. louis and new orleans. the companies run a sharp rivalry in freight and passenger traffic, their season lasting from april to october. the gross receipts for of one company owning thirty-four boats, was one million, two hundred and fifty-three thousand, and some odd roubles. this, after deducting running expenses, would not leave a large amount of profit. the surplus in the case of that company was to be applied to paying debts. "not a copeck," said my informant, "will the stockholders receive in the shape of dividends." i did not obtain any full and clear information touching the navigation of the volga. the steamboats run from tver, on the moscow and st. petersburg railway, to astrachan, at the mouth of the river. the best part of the business is the transport of goods and passengers,--chiefly the former,--to the fair at nijne novgorod. the river is full of shifting sand-bars, and the channel is very tortuous, especially at low water. the first company to introduce steam on the volga was an english one. its success induced many russians to follow its example, so that the business is now over done. here, as in the siberian rivers, the custom prevails of carrying freight in barges, which are towed by tugs. all the steamers i saw were side-wheelers. we changed horses on the south bank of the volga, only twelve versts from kazan. the right bank of the river presents an unbroken line of hills or bluffs, while the opposite one is generally low. the summer road from kazan westward follows the high ground in the vicinity of the river, but often several versts away. the winter road is over the ice of the volga, keeping generally pretty near the bank. a double line of pine or other boughs in the ice marks the route. these boughs are placed by the administration of roads, under whose supervision the way is daily examined. no one is allowed to travel on the ice until the officials declare it safe. night came upon us soon after passing the first station. the road was a combination of pitch-holes, water, soft snow, and detours to avoid dangerous places. the most unpleasant drives were when we left the river to change horses at the villages on the high bank. it was well enough going up, but in descending the sleigh sometimes endeavored to go ahead of the horses. once we came near going over a perpendicular bank sixty or eighty feet high. had we done so, our establishment would have not been worth fifty cents a bushel at the bottom of the bank. back from the volga on this part of the route there were many villages of cheramess, a people of tartar descent who preserve many of their ancient customs. they are thoroughly loyal to russia, and keep the portrait of the emperor in nearly every cottage. in accordance with their custom of veiling women they hang a piece of gauze over the picture of the empress. while changing horses, we were beset by many beggars, whose forlorn appearance entitled them to sympathy. i purchased a number of blessings, as each beggar made the sign of the cross over me on receiving a copeck. russian beggars are the most devout i ever saw, and display great familiarity with the calendar of saints. one morning at kazan i stood at my hotel window watching a beggar woman soliciting alms. several poorly dressed peasants gave her each a copeck or two, and both giver and receiver made the sign of the cross. one decrepid old man gave her a loaf of bread, blessing it devoutly as he placed it in her hands. so far as i saw not a single well dressed person paid any attention to the mendicant. 'only the poor can feel for the poor.' [illustration: beggars in kazan.] we encountered a great deal of merchandise, carried invariably upon, one-horse sleds. cotton, and wool in large sacks were the principal freight going westward, while that moving toward kazan was of a miscellaneous character. the yemshicks were the worst i found on the whole extent of my sleigh ride. they generally contented themselves with the regulation speed, and it was not often that the promise of drink-money affected them. i concluded that money was more easily obtained here than elsewhere on the route. ten copecks were an important item to a yemshick in siberia, but of little consequence along the volga. [illustration: the immersion.] villages were numerous along the volga, and most of them were very liberally supplied with churches. we passed makarief, which was for many years the scene of the great fair of european russia. fire and flood alike visited the place, and in the fair was transferred to nijne novgorod. one of the villages has a church spire that leans considerably toward the edge of the river. about fifty versts from nijne novgorod the population of a large village was gathered, in sunday dress, upon the ice. a baptism was in progress, and as we drove past the assemblage we caught a glimpse of a man plunging through a freshly cut hole. half a minute later he emerged from the crowd and ran toward the nearest house, the water dripping from his garments and hair. as we passed around the end of the village, i looked back and saw another person running in the same direction. converts to the russian church are baptized by immersion, and, once received in its bosom, they continue members until death do them part. what i have said of the church in siberia will apply throughout all russia. the government is far more tolerant in the matter of religion than that of any roman catholic country in europe, and might reprove great britain pretty sharply for its religious tyrannies in unhappy ireland. every one in russia can worship god according to the dictates of his own conscience, provided he does not shock the moral sense of civilization in so doing. every respectable form of christian worship enjoys full liberty, and so does every respectable form of paganism and anti-christianity. the greek faith is the acknowledged religion of the government, and the priests, by virtue of their partly official character, naturally wield considerable power. the abuse or undue employment of that power is not (theoretically) permitted, however much the church may manifest its zeal. every effort is made to convert unbelievers, but no man is forced to accept the greek faith. traveling through russia one may see many forms of worship. he will find the altars of shamanism, the temples of bhudha, the mosques of islam, and the synagogues of israel. on one single avenue of the russian capital he will pass in succession the churches of the greek, the catholic, the armenian, the lutheran, and the episcopal faith. he will be told that among the native russians there are nearly fifty sects of greater or less importance. there are some advantages in belonging to the church of state, just as in england, but they are not essential. i am acquainted with officers in the military, naval, and civil service of the government who are not, and never have been, members of the greek church. i never heard any intimation that their religion had been the least bar to their progress. the pope, in his encyclical of october, , complains of the conduct of the russian government toward the catholics in poland. no doubt alexander has played the mischief with the pope's faithful in that quarter, but not on account of their religion. in warsaw a russian officer, a pole by birth, told me of the misfortunes that had fallen upon the catholic monastery and college in that city. "we found in the insurrection," said the officer, "that the monks were engaged in making knives, daggers, cartridges, and other weapons. the priests were the active men of the rebellion, and did more than any other class to urge it forward, and here is a specimen of iron-mongery from the hands of the monks. we found two hundred of these in the college recently suppressed. many more were distributed and used." as he spoke he opened a drawer and showed me a short dagger fitting into a small handle. the point of the blade had been dipped in poison, and was carefully wrapped in paper. the instrument was used by sticking it into somebody in a crowd, and allowing it to remain. death was pretty certain from a very slight scratch of this weapon. if this gentleman's story is correct, and it was corroborated by others, the russian persecution of the polish catholics is not entirely without reason. among the dissenters in the greek church there is a body called _staroviersty_ (old believers). the difference between them and the adherents of the orthodox faith is more ritualistic than doctrinal. both make the sign of the cross, though each has its own way of holding the fingers in the operation. the staroviersty do not use tobacco in any form, and their mode of life is generally quite rigid. under catherine and paul they were persecuted, and, as a matter of course, increased their numbers rapidly. for the past sixty years oppression has been removed, and they have done pretty nearly as they liked. they are found in all parts of the empire, but are most numerous in the vicinity of the ural mountains. russia has its share of fanatical sects, some of whom push their religion to a wonderful extreme. one sect has a way of sacrificing children by a sort of slow torture in no way commendable. another sect makes a burnt offering of some of its adherents, who are selected by lot. they enter a house prepared for the occasion, and begin a service of singing and prayer. after a time spent in devotions, the building is set on fire and consumed with its occupants. another sect which is mentioned elsewhere practices the mutilation of masculine believers, and steals children for adoption into their families. against all these fanatics the government exercises its despotic power. the peasants are generally very devout, and keep all the days of the church with becoming reverence. there is a story that a moujik waylaid and killed a traveler, and while rifling the pockets of his victim found a cake containing meat. though very hungry he would not eat the cake, because meat was forbidden in the fast then in force. [illustration: russian priest.] the government is endeavoring to diminish the power and influence of the priests, and the number of saints' days, when men must abstain from, labor. heretofore the priests have enjoyed the privilege of recruiting the clergy from their own members. when a village priest died his office fell to his son, and if he had no male heir the revenues went to his eldest daughter until some priest married her and took charge of the parish. by special order of the emperor any vacancy is hereafter to be filled by the most deserving candidate. it is said that during the crimean war the governor of moscow notified the pastor of the english church in that city that the prayer for the success of her brittanic majesty's armies must be omitted. the pastor appealed to the emperor, who replied that prayers of regular form might continue to be read, no matter what they contained. the governor made no further interference. about three o'clock in the afternoon of the second day from kazan, the yemshick pointed out the spires of nijne novgorod, on the southern bank of the volga. a fleet of steamers, barges, and soudnas lay sealed in the ice along the shore, waiting for the moving of the waters. the road to the north bank was marked with pine boughs, that fringed the moving line of sleighs and sledges. we threaded our way among the stationary vessels, and at length came before the town. a friend had commended me to the hotel de la poste, and i ordered the yemshick to drive there. with an eye to his pocket the fellow carried me to an establishment of the same name on the other side of the oka. i had a suspicion that i was being swindled, but as they blandly informed me that no other hotel with that title existed, i alighted and ordered my baggage up. this was the end of my sleigh ride. i had passed two hundred and nine stations, with as many changes of horses and drivers. nearly seven hundred horses had been attached to my sleigh, and had drawn me over a road of greatly varied character. out of forty days from irkutsk, i spent sixteen at the cities and towns on the way. i slept twenty-six nights in my sleigh with the thermometer varying from thirty-five degrees above zero to forty-five below, and encountered four severe storms and a variety of smaller ones. including the detour to barnaool, my sleigh ride was about thirty-six hundred miles long. from stratensk by way of kiachta to irkutsk, i traveled not far from fourteen hundred miles with wheeled vehicles, and made ninety-three changes. my whole ride from steam navigation on the amoor to the railway at nijne novgorod was very nearly five thousand miles. there was a manifest desire to swindle me at the bogus hotel de la poste. half a dozen attendants carried my baggage to my room, and each demanded a reward. when i gave the yemshick his "na vodka," an officious attendant suggested that the gentleman should be very liberal at the end of his ride. i asked for a bath, and they ordered a sleigh to take me to a bathing establishment several squares away. my proposition to be content for the present with a wash basin was pronounced impossible, until i finished the argument with my left boot. the waiter finally became affectionate, and when i ordered supper he suggested comforts not on the bill of fare. the landlord proposed to purchase my sleigh and superfluous furs, and we concluded a bargain at less than a twelfth of their cost. after a night's rest i recrossed the oka and drove to the town. here i found the veritable hotel de la poste, to which i immediately changed my quarters. the house overlooked a little park enclosing a pond, where a hundred or more persons were skating. the park was well shaded, and must be quite pleasant in summer. the town hardly deserves the name of nijne (lower) novgorod, as it stands on a bluff nearly two hundred feet above the river. its lower town contains little else than small shops, storehouses, poor hotels, and steamboat offices. the kremlin, or fortress, looks down from a very picturesque position, and its strong walls have a defiant air. from the edge of the bluff the view is wide; the low field and forest land on the opposite side of the river, the sinuous volga and its tributary, the oka, are all visible for a long distance. opposite, on a tongue of land between the volga and the oka, is the scene of the fair of nijne novgorod, the greatest, i believe, in the world. there are many fine houses in the upper town, with indications of considerable wealth. i had a letter of introduction to the chief of police, colonel kretegin, who kindly showed me the principal objects of interest in and around the kremlin. the monument to the memory of minin sukhoruky possessed the greatest historical importance. this man, a peasant and butcher, believed himself called to deliver russia from the poles in . he awakened his countrymen, and joined a russian noble in leading them to expel the invaders. a bronze monument at moscow represents minin starting on his mission. the memorial at nijne is of a less elaborate character. we drove through the fair grounds, which wore as empty of occupants as goldsmith's deserted village. it is laid out like a regular town or city, and most of its houses are substantially built. so much has been written about this commercial center that i will not attempt its description, especially as i was not there in fair season. the population of the town--ordinarily forty thousand--becomes three hundred thousand during the fair. more than half a million persons have visited the city in a single summer, and the value of goods sold or exchanged during each fair is about two hundred millions of roubles. colonel kretegin told me that the members of the fox embassy were much astonished at finding american goods for sale at nijne novgorod. it would be difficult to mention any part of the civilized world where some article of our manufacture has not penetrated. [illustration: tail piece] chapter lii. at the close of the second day at nijne novgorod i started for moscow. as we drove from the hotel to the railway the jackdaws, perched everywhere on the roofs, were unusually noisy. leaving asia and entering europe, the magpie seemed to give place to the jackdaw. the latter bird inhabits the towns and cities east of the ural mountains, and we frequently saw large flocks searching the debris along the volga road. he associates freely with the pigeon, and appears well protected by public sentiment. possibly his uneatable character and his fancied resemblance to the pigeon saves him from being knocked in the head. pigeons are very abundant in all russian cities, and their tameness is a matter of remark among foreign visitors. the railway station is across the oka and near the site of the annual fair. we went at a smashing pace down hill and over the ice to the other side, narrowly missing several collisions. at the railway i fell to the charge of two porters, who carried my baggage while i sought the ticket office. a young woman speaking french officiated at the desk, and furnished me with a _billet de voyage_ to moscow. in the waiting room a hundred or more persons were gathered. the men were well wrapped in furs, and among the ladies hoods were more numerous than bonnets. three-fourths of the males and a third of the females were smoking cigarettes, and there was no prohibition visible. in accordance with the national taste the chief article sold at the _buffet_ was hot tea in tumblers. some one uttered "sibeerski" as, clad in my dehar, i walked past a little group. to keep up appearances and kill time i drank tea, until the door opened and a rush was made for the train. there is an adage in germany that three kinds of people--fools, princes, and americans--travel first class. to continue russian pretences, and by the advice of a friend, i took a second class ticket, and found the accommodation better than the average of first class cars in america. how strange was the sensation of railway travel! since i last experienced it, i had journeyed more than half around the globe. i had been tossed on the pacific and adjacent waters, had ascended the great river of northern asia, had found the rough way of life along the frozen roads beyond the baikal, and ended with that long, long ride over siberian snows. i looked back through a long vista of earth and snow, storm and sunshine, starlight and darkness, rolling sea and placid river, rugged mountains and extended plains. the hardships of travel were ended as i reached the land of railways, and our motion as we sped along the track seemed more luxurious than ever before. contrasted with the cramped and narrow sleigh, pitching over ridges and occasionally overturning, the carriage where i sat appeared the perfection of locomotive skill. how sweet is pleasure after pain. sunshine is brightest in the morning, and prosperity has a keener zest when it follows adversity. to be truly enjoyed, our lives must be chequered with light and shadow, and varied with different scenes. the railway between nijne novgorod and moscow is about two hundred and fifty miles in length, and was built by french and russian capital combined. there is only one passenger train each way daily, at a speed not exceeding twenty miles an hour. in the compartment where i sat there was a young french woman, governess in a family at simbirsk, with a russian female servant accompanying her. the governess was chatty, and invited me to join her in a feast of bon-bons, which she devoured at a prodigious rate. the servant was becomingly silent, and solaced herself with cigarettes. the restaurants along the road are quite well supplied, especially those where full meals are provided. two hours after starting we halted ten minutes for tea and cigarettes. two hours later we had thirty minutes for supper, which was all ready at our arrival. about midnight we stopped at the ancient city of vladimir, where there is a cathedral founded in the twelfth century. stepping from the train to get a night glimpse of the place, i found a substantial supper (or breakfast) spread for consumption. in justice to the russians, i am happy to say very few patronized this midnight table. at daybreak i rubbed the frost from a window and looked upon a stretch of snow and frost, with peasant cottages few and far between. an hour later, our speed slackened. again cleaning the glass and peering through it, a large city came in sight. it was moscow,--"holy moscow,"--the city of the czars, and beloved of every russian. suffering through tartar, polish, and french occupations, it has survived pillage, massacre, fire, and famine, and remains at this day the most thoroughly national of the great cities of the empire. the towers and domes of its many churches glittered in the morning sunlight as they glittered half a century ago, when napoleon and his soldiers first climbed the hills that overlook the city. it was a long drive from the station to the hotel. the morning was clear and cold, and the snow in the streets had been ground into a sand-like mass several inches deep. the solid foundation beneath was worn with hollows and ridges, that vividly recalled the oukhabas of the post road. streets were full of sleds and sleighs, the latter dashing at a rapid rate. in the region near the station there were so many signs of '_trakteer_' as to suggest the possibility of one half the inhabitants selling tea, beer, and quass to the other half. near the center of the city the best shops displayed signs in french or english, generally the former. of course i went early to the kremlin. who has ever read or talked of moscow without its historic fortress? entering by the sacred gate, i lifted my hat in comformity to the custom, from which not even the emperor is exempt. one of my school-books contained a description of the czar kolokol, or great bell, and stated that a horse and chaise could pass through the hole where a piece was broken from one side. possibly the miniature vehicle of tom thumb could be driven through, but, certainly, no ordinary one-horse shay could have any prospect of success. the hole is six feet in height, by about a yard wide at the bottom, and narrows like a wedge toward the top. the height and diameter of the bell are respectively nineteen feet four inches by twenty feet three inches. it weighs , pounds. it was cast in , by order of the empress anne, and the hole in its side was made by the falling of some rafters during a fire in . it remained buried in the ground until , when it was raised and placed on its present pedestal by order of the emperor nicholas. [illustration: great bell of moscow.] to enumerate all the wonders of the kremlin would consume much time and space. somebody tells of a yankee gazing at niagara, and lamenting that a magnificent water power should run to waste. i could not help wondering how many miles of railway could be built from the proceeds of the mass of wealth inside the kremlin. diamonds, rubies, pearls, crowns, sceptres, thrones, princely and priestly robes, are gathered in such numbers that eye and brain become weary in their contemplation. the most interesting of these treasures are those around which cling historic associations. the crowns of the kingdoms of kazan and astrachan point to the overthrow of tartar power in europe, while the throne of poland symbolizes the westward course of the muscovite star of empire. there are flags borne or captured in russia's victories, from the storming of kazan and the defence of albazin down to the suppression of polish revolt. mute and dumb witnesses of the misfortunes of the _grand armee_ are the long rows of cannon that lie near the kremlin palace. three hundred and sixty-five french guns tell of napoleon's disastrous march to moscow. the holiest part of holy moscow is within the kremlin. in the church of the assumption, the czars of russia, from john the terrible down to the present day, have been crowned. in the michael church, until the accession of peter the great, the rurik and romanoff dynasties were buried; while another church witnessed their baptism, and marriage. what a wonderful amount of gold and jewels are visible in the churches and chapels of the kremlin! the floor of one is of jasper and agate; pearl and amethyst and onyx adorn the inner walls of another. one has vast pillars of porphyry, and the domes and turrets of all are liberally spread or starred with gold. the pictures of the infant saviour and his mother are hung with necklaces of jewels, each of them almost a fortune. one might easily think that the wealth of ormuz or of ind had been gathered to adorn the shrines of the most oriental christian faith. i visted the imperial theatre, which the muscovites pronounce the finest in the world. to my mind it is only equaled by la scala at milan, or san carlo at naples. outside it reminded me of our _ci-devant_ academy of music. inside it was gorgeous, well arranged, and spacious. [illustration: view on the nevski prospect--st. petersburgh.] the _kitai gorod,_ or chinese town of moscow, is close by the kremlin and outside its walls. the only feature worthy the name of this part of the city is the number of tartar inhabitants and the immense bazaar, or gustinni dvor, where the principal trade of moscow has been centered for nearly three hundred years. the quantity of goods in the bazaar is something enormous. a russian said to me: "if half the houses in moscow were stripped of furniture, ornaments, and all things save the walls and roofs; if their inhabitants were plundered of all clothing and personal goods except their bank accounts,--the _gastinni dvor_ could supply every deficiency within two hours. you may enter the bazaar wearing nothing but your shirt, and can depart in an hour dressed and decorated in any manner you choose, and riding in your carriage with driver and footman in livery." the railway between st. petersburg and moscow is a government affair, and forms nearly a direct line from one city to the other. it is said that the emperor nicholas placed a ruler on the map and drew a line from one capital to the other to mark the route the engineers must follow. notwithstanding the favorable character of the country the cost of the road was enormous, in consequence of alleged peculations. there is a story that the government once wished to make a great impression upon a persian embassy. all the marvels of st. petersburg and moscow were exhausted, but the oriental embassadors remained serene and unmoved. "what shall we do to surprise them," the emperor demanded of his prime minister. "nothing is better, sire," replied that official, "than to tell them the cost of the imperial railway." one hears more about stealing and bribe taking in russia than in any other country i ever visited. the evil is partly on account of low salaries and great expense of living, and partly due to ancient custom. the emperor has endeavored to establish a reform in this particular, but the difficulties are very great because of the secret character of "palm-greasing," it is related that a german _savant_ once remarked to nicholas that he could do russia a great service by breaking up the system of financial corruption. "to get such a project in action," replied the emperor, "i must begin by bribing my prime minister." of the country between the capitals i saw very little. in the cars the double windows, covered with frost, were about as transparent as a drop curtain. we stopped at a great many capacious and well built stations, where there was abundant opportunity for feeding and drinking. the journey commenced at two in the afternoon, and was finished at ten on the following morning. the distance, according to official measurement, is four hundred and three miles. the train halted at the station nearest st. petersburg, and as we stood a moment upon the platform, we saw the great, gilded dome of st. isaac's cathedral rising over the city. in st. petersburg my first duty was to take breakfast, a bath, and a change of clothes at a hotel, and then, to drive to the banker's for letters from home. i had not seen an american for five months; as i alighted from my droshky, a well-dressed individual looked at me, and not to be outdone i returned his glance. our eyes peered over two fur collars that exposed very little of our faces. after a moment's hesitation each of us spoke the other's name, and i experienced the double pleasure of meeting in one individual a countryman and an old friend. [illustration: tail piece--meeting an old friend] [illustration: map _to accompany_ thos. w. knox's "overland through asia"] [ transcriber's notes: every effort has been made to replicate this text as faithfully as possible, including inconsistencies in spelling and hyphenation. some corrections of spelling and punctuation have been made. they are listed at the end of the text. italic text has been marked with _underscores_. bold text has been marked with =equals signs=. ] what shall we do? =the free age press= is an earnest effort to spread those deep convictions in which the noblest spirits of every age and race have believed--that man's true aim and happiness is "unity in reason and love"; the realisation of the brotherhood of all men: that we must all strive to eradicate, each from himself, those false ideas, false feelings, and false desires--personal, social, religious, economic--which alienate us one from another and produce nine-tenths of all human suffering. of these truly christian and universally religious aspirations the writings of leo tolstoy are to-day perhaps the most definite expression, and it is to the production of very cheap editions of his extant religious, social and ethical works, together with much unpublished matter and his new writings, to which we have special access (being in close touch with tolstoy), that we are at present confining ourselves. we earnestly trust that all who sympathise will continue to assist us by every means in their power, and help to make the publications yet more widely known. it is tolstoy's desire that his books shall not be copyrighted, and as we share this view, all =free age press= translations and editions (with one, as yet unavoidable exception), are and will be issued free of copyright and may be reprinted by anyone. we have already commenced to collect all tolstoy's essays into more permanent cloth-bound volumes. suggestions, inquiries, offers of help and co-operation will be gratefully welcomed. for the hundreds of sympathetic letters and the practical help in making known and circulating the books which we have received already, we are very grateful, and tender our hearty thanks. orders and commercial communications should be addressed to "=the free age press=" _english branch_, , paternoster row, london, e.c. all other communications to the "editor of the free age press," christchurch, hants. vladimir tchertkoff, _editor_. thomas laurie, _publisher_. revised and corrected translation what shall we do? by leo tolstoy edited by a.c.f. and i.f.m. no rights reserved the free age press paternoster row, london uniform with this volume.-- "=what is religion?=" an entirely new book just completed. by leo tolstoy. with several new and recent letters, articles, and appeals. paper, d. nett.; post free, ½d. flexible cloth, gilt, gilt top, s. nett.; post free, s. d. leather, gilt, gilt top, s. nett.; post free, s. d. =what i believe= ("my religion") by leo tolstoy. revised translation. pages. same prices as _what is religion?_ "=on life.=" by leo tolstoy. a new translation of this little-known book--"a book which is of especial value as a key to tolstoy's method and belief" (mr. h. w. massingham). same prices. =the kingdom of god is within you.= we hope eventually to issue the whole of tolstoy's writings since in volumes uniform with this book. what shall we do? "and the people asked him, saying, what shall we do then? "he answereth and said unto them, he that hath two coats, let him impart to him that hath none; and he that hath meat, let him do likewise." (luke iii. , .) "lay not up for yourselves treasures upon earth, where moth and rust doth corrupt, and where thieves break through and steal: "but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt, and where thieves do not break through nor steal: "for where your treasure is, there will your heart be also. "the light of the body is the eye; if, therefore, thine eye be single, thy whole body shall be full of light. "but if thine eye be evil, thy whole body shall be full of darkness. if, therefore, the light that is in thee be darkness, how great is your darkness? "no man can serve two masters: for either he will hate the one, and love the other; or else he will hold to the one, and despise the other. ye cannot serve god and mammon. "therefore i say unto you, take no thought for your life, what ye shall eat, or what ye shall drink; nor yet for your body, what ye shall put on. is not the life more than meat, and the body than raiment?" (matt. vi. - .) "therefore take no thought, saying, what shall we eat? or, what shall we drink? or, wherewithal shall we be clothed? "(for after all these things do the gentiles seek): for your heavenly father knoweth that ye have need of all these things. "but seek ye first the kingdom of god, and his righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you." (matt. vi. - .) "for it is easier for a camel to go through a needle's eye, than for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of god." (luke xviii. .) chapter i after having passed the greater part of my life in the country, i came at length, in the year , to reside in moscow, where i was immediately struck with the extreme state of pauperism in that city. though well acquainted with the privations of the poor in rural districts, i had not the faintest conception of their actual condition in towns. in moscow it is impossible to pass a street without meeting beggars of a peculiar kind, quite unlike those in the country, who go about there, as the saying is, "with a bag and the name of christ." the moscow beggars neither carry a bag nor ask for alms. in most cases when they meet you, they try to catch your eye, and then act according to the expression of your face. i know of one such, a bankrupt gentleman. he is an old man who advances slowly, limping painfully with each leg. when he meets you, he limps, and makes a bow. if you stop, he takes off his cap, ornamented with a cockade, bows again, and begs. if you do not stop, he pretends to be only lame, and continues limping along. that is a specimen of a genuine moscow beggar, an experienced one. at first i did not know why such mendicants did not ask openly; but afterwards i learned why, without understanding the reason. one day i saw a policeman push a ragged peasant swollen with dropsy, into a cab. i asked what he had been doing, and the policeman replied,-- "begging." "is begging, then, forbidden?" "so it seems," he answered. as the man was being driven away, i took another cab, and followed. i wished to find out whether begging was really forbidden, and if so, why? i could not at all understand how it was possible to forbid one man asking something from another; and, moreover, i had my doubts whether it could be illegal in a city where it flourished to such an extent. i entered the police-station where the pauper had been taken, and asked an official armed with sword and pistol, and seated at a table, what he had been arrested for. the man looked up at me sharply, and said, "what business is that of yours?" however, feeling the necessity of some explanation, he added, "the authorities order such fellows to be arrested, so i suppose it is necessary." i went away. the policeman who had brought the man was sitting in the window of the ante-room, studying his note-book. i said to him,-- "is it really true that poor people are not allowed to ask for alms in christ's name?" the man started, as if waking up from a sleep, stared at me, then relapsed again into a state of stolid indifference, and, reseating himself on the window-sill, said,-- "the authorities require it, so you see it is necessary." as he became again absorbed in his note-book, i went down the steps towards my cab. "well! have they locked him up?" asked the cabman. he had evidently become interested in the matter. "they have," i answered. he shook his head. "is begging forbidden in moscow, then?" i asked. "i can't tell you," he said. "but how can a man be locked up," i said, "for begging in the name of christ?" "nowadays things have changed, and you see it is forbidden," he answered. since then, i have often seen policemen taking paupers to the police-station and thence to the work-house. indeed, i once met a whole crowd of these poor creatures, about thirty, escorted before and behind by policemen. i asked what they had been doing. "begging," was the reply. it appears that, according to law, begging is forbidden in moscow, notwithstanding the great number of beggars one meets there in every street, notwithstanding the rows of them near the churches during service-time, and especially at funerals. but why are some caught and locked up, while others are let alone? this i have not been able to find out. either there are lawful and unlawful beggars amongst them, or else there are so many that it is impossible to catch them all; or, perhaps, though some are taken up, others fill their places. there is a great variety of such beggars in moscow. there are those who live by begging. there are also entirely honest destitute people who have somehow chanced to reach moscow and are really in extreme need. amongst the latter are men and women evidently from the country. i have often met these. some of them, who had fallen ill and afterwards recovered and left the hospital, could now find no means, either of feeding themselves, or of getting away from moscow; some of them, besides, had taken to drink (this was probably the case with the man with dropsy whom i met); some were in good health, but had been burned out of house and home, or else were very old, or were widowed or deserted women with children; and some others had sound health, and were quite capable of working. these robust people especially interested me,--the more so, because, since my arrival in moscow, i had contracted the habit of going to the sparrow hills for the sake of exercise, and working there with two peasants who sawed wood. these men were exactly like the beggars whom i often met in the streets. one, called peter, was an ex-soldier from kaluga; the other, simon, was from vladímir. they possessed nothing save the clothes on their backs: and they earned, by working very hard, from forty to forty-five kopeks ( d. to d.) a day; out of this they both put a little aside,--the kaluga soldier, to buy a fur coat; the vladímir peasant, to get money enough to return to his home in the country. meeting in the streets similar men, i was therefore particularly interested in them, and could not understand why some begged whilst others worked. whenever i met a beggar of this description, i used to ask him how it was that he had come to such a state. once i met a strong, healthy-looking peasant who asked alms. i questioned him as to who he was, and whence he had come. he told me he had come from kaluga, in search of work. he had at first found some, such as sawing old timber into fire-wood; but after he and his companion had finished that job, though they had continually looked for it, they had not found any more work, his mate had left him, and he himself had passed a fortnight in the utmost need, and having sold all he had to get food, now had not enough even to buy the necessary tools for sawing. i gave him money to get a saw, and told him where to go for work. i had previously arranged with peter and simon that they should accept a new fellow-worker, and find him a mate. "be sure you come! there is plenty of work to be done," i said on parting. "you can reckon on me," he answered. "do you think there is any pleasure in knocking about, begging, if i can work?" the man solemnly promised that he would come; and he seemed honest, and really meaning to work. next day, on coming to my friends, peter and simon, i asked them whether the man had arrived. they said he had not; and, indeed, he never came at all. in this way i was frequently deceived. i have also been deceived by those who said that they only wanted a little money to buy a ticket to return home, and whom i met in the streets again a few days later. many of them i came to know well, and they knew me; though occasionally having forgotten me, they would repeat the same false tale; but sometimes they would turn away on recognizing me. in this way i discovered, that, even in this class of men, there are many rogues. still, these poor rogues were also very much to be pitied: they were all ragged and hungry; they were of the sort who die of cold in the streets, or hang themselves to escape life, as the papers frequently tell us. chapter ii when i talked to my town friends about this pauperism which surrounded them, they always replied, "oh! you have seen nothing yet! you should go to the khitrof market, and visit the lodging-houses there, if you want to see the genuine 'golden company.'" one jovial friend of mine added, that the number of these paupers had so increased, that they already formed not a "golden company," but a "golden regiment." my witty friend was right; but he would have been yet nearer the truth had he said that these men formed, in moscow, not a company, nor a regiment, but a whole army,--an army, i should judge, of about fifty thousand. the regular townspeople, when they spoke to me about the pauperism of the city, always seemed to feel a certain pleasure or pride in being able to give me such precise information. i remember i noticed, when visiting london, that the citizens there seemed also to find a certain satisfaction in telling me about london destitution, as though it were something to be proud of. however, wishing to inspect this poverty about which i had heard so much, i had turned my steps very often towards the khitrof market,--but on each occasion i felt a sensation of pain and shame. "why should you go to look at the suffering of human beings whom you cannot help?" said one voice within me. "if you live here, and see all that is pleasant in town life, go and see also what is wretched," replied another. and so, one cold, windy day in december, two years ago ( ), i went to the khitrof market, the centre of the town pauperism. it was on a week-day, about four in the afternoon. while still a good distance off i noticed greater and greater numbers of men in strange clothes,--evidently not originally meant for them,--and in yet stranger foot-wear; men of a peculiar unhealthy complexion, and all apparently showing a remarkable indifference to everything that surrounded them. men in the strangest, most incongruous costumes sauntered along, evidently without the least thought as to how they might look in the eyes of others. they were all going in the same direction. without asking the way, which was unknown to me, i followed them, and came to the khitrof market. there i found women likewise in ragged capes, rough cloaks, jackets, boots, and goloshes. perfectly free and easy in their manner, notwithstanding the grotesque monstrosity of their attire, these women, old and young, were sitting, bargaining, strolling about, and abusing one another. market-time having evidently passed, there were not many people there; and as most of them were going up-hill, through the market-place, and all in the same direction, i followed them. the farther i went, the greater became the stream of people flowing into the one road. having passed the market, and gone up the street, i found that i was following two women, one old, the other young. both were clothed in some grey ragged stuff. they were talking, as they walked, about some kind of business. every expression was unfailingly accompanied by some obscene word. neither was drunk, but each absorbed with her own affairs; and the passing men, and those about them, paid not the slightest attention to their language, which sounded so strange to me. it appeared to be the generally accepted manner of speech in those parts. on the left we passed some private night-lodging-houses, and some of the crowd entered these; others continued to ascend the hill towards a large corner house. the majority of the people walking along with me went into this house. before it, people all of the same sort were standing and sitting, on the sidewalk and in the snow. at the right of the entrance were women; at the left, men. i passed by the men: i passed by the women (there were several hundreds in all), and stopped where the crowd ceased. this building was the "liapin free night-lodging-house" ("doss-house"). the crowd was composed of night-lodgers, waiting to be let in. at five o'clock in the evening this house is opened and the crowd admitted. hither came almost all the people whom i followed. i remained standing where the file of men ended. those nearest stared at me till i had to look at them. the remnants of garments covering their bodies were very various; but the one expression of the eyes of all alike seemed to be, "why are you, a man from another world, stopping here with us? who are you? are you a self-satisfied man of wealth, desiring to be gladdened by the sight of our need, to divert yourself in your idleness, and to mock at us? or are you that which does not and can not exist,--a man who pities us?" on all their faces the same question was written. each would look at me, meet my eyes, and turn away again. i wanted to speak to some of them, but for a long time i could not summon up courage. however, eventually our mutual exchange of glances introduced us to each other; and we felt that, however widely separated might be our social positions in life, we were still fellow-men, and so we ceased to be afraid of one another. next to me stood a peasant with a swollen face and red beard, in a ragged jacket, with worn-out goloshes on his naked feet, though there were eight degrees of frost.[ ] for the third or fourth time our eyes met; and i felt so drawn to him that i was no longer ashamed to address him (to have refrained from doing so would have been the only real shame), and i asked him where he came from. [ ] réaumur. he answered eagerly, while a crowd began to collect round us, that he had come from smolensk in search of work, to be able to buy bread and pay his taxes. "there is no work to be had nowadays," he said: "the soldiers have got hold of it all. so here am i knocking about; and god is my witness, i have not had any thing to eat for two days." he said this shyly, with an attempt at a smile. a seller[ ] of warm drinks, an old soldier, was standing near. i called him, and made him pour out a glass. the peasant took the warm vessel in his hands, and, before drinking, warmed them against the glass, trying not to lose any of the precious heat; and whilst doing this he related to me his story. [ ] a sbiten-seller: _sbiten_ is a hot drink made of herbs or spices and molasses the adventures of these people, or at least the stories which they tell, are almost always the same: he had had a little work; then it had ceased: and here, in the night-lodging-house, his purse, containing his money and passport, had been stolen from him. now he could not leave moscow. he told me that during the day he warmed himself in public-houses, eating any stale crust of bread which might be given him. his night's lodging here in liapin's house cost him nothing. he was only waiting for the round of the police-sergeant to lock him up for being without his passport, when he would be sent on foot, with a party of men similarly situated, to the place of his birth. "they say the inspection will take place on thursday, when i shall be taken up; so i must try and keep on until then." (the prison and his compulsory journey appeared to him as the "promised land.") while he was speaking, two or three men in the crowd said they were also in exactly the same situation. a thin, pale youth, with a long nose, only a shirt upon his back, and that torn about the shoulders, and a tattered cap on his head, edged his way to me through the crowd. he was shivering violently all the time, but tried, as he caught my eye, to smile scornfully at the peasant's conversation, thinking thus to show his superiority. i offered him some drink. he warmed his hands on the tumbler as the other had done; but just as he began to speak, he was shouldered aside by a big, black, hook-nosed, bare-headed fellow, in a thin shirt and waistcoat, who also asked for some drink. then a tall old man, with a thin beard, in an overcoat fastened round the waist with a cord, and in bark shoes, had some. he was drunk. then came a little man, with a swollen face and wet eyes, in a coarse brown jacket, with his knees protruding through his torn trousers and knocking against each other with cold. he shivered so that he could not hold the glass, and spilled the contents over his clothes: the others began to abuse him, but he only grinned miserably, and shivered. after him came an ugly, deformed man in rags, and with bare feet. then an individual of the officer type; another belonging to the church class; then a strange-looking being without a nose,--all of them hungry, cold, suppliant, and humble,--crowded round me, and stretched out their hands for the glass; but the drink was exhausted. then one man asked for money: i gave him some. a second and a third followed, till the whole crowd pressed on me. in the general confusion the gatekeeper of the neighbouring house shouted to the crowd to clear the pavement before his house, and the people submissively obeyed. some of them undertook to control the tumult, and took me under their protection. they attempted to drag me out of the crush. but the crowd that formerly had lined the pavement in a long file, had now become condensed about me. every one looked at me and begged; and it seemed as if each face were more pitiful, harassed, and degraded than the other. i distributed all the money i had,--only about twenty rubles,--and entered the lodging-house with the crowd. the house was an enormous one, and consisted of four parts. in the upper storeys were the men's rooms; on the ground-floor the women's. i went first into the women's dormitory,--a large room, filled with beds resembling the berths in a third-class railway-carriage. they were arranged in two tiers, one above the other. strange-looking women in ragged dresses, without jackets, old and young, kept coming in and occupying places, some below, others climbing above. some of the elder ones crossed themselves, pronouncing the name of the founder of the refuge. some laughed and swore. i went up-stairs. there, in a similar way, the men had taken their places. amongst them i recognized one of those to whom i had given money. on seeing him i suddenly felt horribly ashamed, and made haste to leave. with a sense of having committed some crime, i returned home. there i entered along the carpeted steps into the rug-covered hall, and, having taken off my fur coat, sat down to a meal of five courses, served by two footmen in livery, with white ties and white gloves. a scene of the past came suddenly before me. thirty years ago i saw a man's head cut off under the guillotine in paris before a crowd of thousands of spectators. i was aware that the man had been a great criminal: i was acquainted with all the arguments in justification of capital punishment for such offences. i saw this execution carried out deliberately: but at the moment that the head and body were severed from each other by the keen blade, i gasped, and realized in every fibre of my being, that all the arguments which i had hitherto heard in favour of capital punishment were wickedly false; that, no matter how many might agree that it was a lawful act, it was literally murder; whatever other title men might give it, they thus had virtually committed murder, that worst of all crimes: and there was i, both by my silence and my non-interference, an aider, an abetter, and participator in the sin. similar convictions were again forced upon me when i now beheld the misery, cold, hunger, and humiliation of thousands of my fellow-men. i realized not only with my brain, but in every pulse of my soul, that, whilst there were thousands of such sufferers in moscow, i, with tens of thousands of others, daily filled myself to repletion with luxurious dainties of every description, took the tenderest care of my horses, and clothed my very floors with velvet carpets! whatever the wise and learned of the world might say about it, however unalterable the course of life might seem to be, the same evil was continually being enacted, and i, by my own personal habits of luxury, was a promoter of that evil. the difference between the two cases was only this: that in the first, all i could have done would have been to shout out to the murderers standing near the guillotine, who were accomplishing the deed, that they were committing a murder, and by every means to try to hinder them,--while, of course, knowing that my interference would be in vain. whereas, in this second case, i might have given away, not only the drink and the small sum of money i had with me, but also the coat from off my shoulders, and all that i possessed at home. yet i had not done so, and therefore felt, and feel, and can never cease to feel, that i myself am a partaker in a crime which is continually being committed, so long as i have superfluous food whilst others have none, so long as i have two coats whilst there exists one man without any. chapter iii on the same evening that i returned from liapin's house, i imparted my impressions to a friend: and he, a resident of the town, began to explain to me, not without a certain satisfaction, that this was the most natural state of things in a town; that it was only owing to my provincialism that i found anything remarkable in it; and that it had always been, and always would be so, such being one of the inevitable conditions of civilization. in london it was yet worse, etc., etc., therefore there could be nothing wrong about it, and there was nothing to be disturbed or troubled about. i began to argue with my friend, but with such warmth and so angrily, that my wife rushed in from the adjoining room to ask what had happened. it appeared that, without being aware of it, i had shouted out in an agonized voice, gesticulating wildly, "we should not go on living in this way! we must not live so! we have no right!" i was rebuked for my unnecessary excitement; i was told that i could not talk quietly upon any question, that i was irritable; and it was pointed out to me that the existence of such misery as i had witnessed was in no way a reason for embittering the life of my home-circle. i felt that this was perfectly just, and held my tongue; but in the depth of my soul i knew that i was right, and i could not quiet my conscience. the town life, which had previously seemed alien and strange to me, now became so hateful that all the indulgencies of a luxurious existence, in which i had formerly delighted, began to torment me. however much i tried to find some kind of excuse for my mode of life, i could not contemplate without irritation either my own or other people's drawing-rooms, nor a clean, richly served dinner-table, nor a carriage with well-fed coachman and horses, nor the shops, theatres, and entertainments. i could not help seeing, in contrast to all this, those hungry, shivering, and degraded inhabitants of the night-lodging-house. i could never free myself from the thought that these conditions were inseparable--that the one proceeded from the other. i remember that the sense of culpability which i had felt from the first moment never left me; but with this feeling another soon mingled, which lessened the first. when i talked to my intimate friends and acquaintances about my impressions in liapin's house, they all answered in the same way, and expressed besides their appreciation of my kindness and tender-heartedness, and gave me to understand that the sight had impressed me so because i, leo tolstoy, was kind-hearted and good. and i willingly allowed myself to believe this. the natural consequence of this was, that the first keen sense of self-reproach and shame became blunted, and was replaced by a sense of satisfaction at my own virtue, and a desire to make it known to others. "it is, in truth," i said to myself, "probably not my connection with a luxurious life which is at fault, but the unavoidable circumstances of existence. therefore a change in my particular life would not alter the evil i had seen." in changing my own life, i thought, i should only render myself and those nearest and dearest to me miserable, whilst the other misery would remain; therefore my object should be, not to alter my own way of living, as i had at first imagined, but to try as much as was in my power to _ameliorate_ the position of those unfortunate ones who had excited my compassion. the whole matter, i reasoned, lies in the fact that i, being an extremely kind and good man, wish to do good to my fellow-men. so i began to arrange a plan of philanthropic activity in which i might exhibit all my virtues. i must, however, remark here, that, while planning this charitable effort, in the depth of my heart i felt that i was not doing the right thing; but, as too often happens, reason and imagination stifled the voice of conscience. about this time the census was being taken, and this seemed to me a good opportunity for instituting that charitable organization in which i wanted to shine. i was acquainted with many philanthropic institutions and societies already existing in moscow, but all their activity seemed to me both insignificant and wrongly directed in comparison with what i myself wished to do. this was what i invented to excite sympathy amongst the rich for the poor: i began to collect money, and to enlist men who wished to help in the work, and who would, in company with the census officers, visit all the nests of pauperism, entering into relations with the poor, finding out the details of their needs, aiding them with money and work, sending them out of moscow, placing their children in schools, and their old men and women in homes and houses of refuge. i thought, moreover, that from those who undertook this work a permanent society could be formed, which, by dividing between its members the various districts of moscow, could take care that new cases of want and misery should be averted, and so by degrees pauperism might be stifled at its very beginning, not so much by cure, as by prevention. already i saw in the future the entire disappearance of begging and poverty, i having been the means of its accomplishment. then we who were rich could go on living in all our luxury as before, dwelling in fine houses, eating dinners of five courses, driving in our carriages to theatres and entertainments, no longer being harassed by such sights as i had witnessed at liapin's house. having invented this plan, i wrote an article about it; and, before even giving it to the printers, i went to those acquaintances from whom i hoped to obtain co-operation, and expounded to all whom i visited that day (chiefly the rich) the ideas i afterwards published in my article. i proposed to profit by the census in order to study the state of pauperism in moscow, and to help exterminate it by personal effort and money, after which we might all with a quiet conscience enjoy our usual pleasures. everyone listened to me attentively and seriously; but, in every case, i remarked that the moment my hearers came to understand what i was driving at, they seemed to become uncomfortable and somewhat embarrassed. it was principally, i feel sure, on my own account; because they considered all that i said to be folly. it seemed as though some outside motive compelled my listeners to agree for the moment with my foolishness.--"oh, yes! certainly. it would be delightful," they said: "of course it is impossible not to sympathize with you. your idea is splendid. i myself have had the same; but ... people here are so indifferent, that it is hardly reasonable to expect a great success. however, as far as i am concerned, i am, of course, ready to share in the enterprise." similar answers i received from all. they consented, as it appeared to me, not because they were persuaded by my arguments, nor yet in compliance with their own desire, but because of some exterior reason which rendered it impossible for them to refuse. i remarked this partly because none of those who promised me their help in the form of money, defined the sum they meant to give; so that i had to name the amount by asking, "may i count upon you for twenty-five, or one hundred, or two hundred, or three hundred, rubles?" and not one of them paid the money. i draw attention to this fact, because, when people are going to pay for what they are anxious to have, they are generally in haste to give it. if it is to secure a box to see sarah bernhardt, the money is immediately produced; here, however, of all who agreed to give, and expressed their sympathy, not one produced the amount, but merely silently acquiesced in the sum i happened to name. in the last house i visited that day there was a large party. the mistress of the house had for some years been employed in works of charity. several carriages were waiting at the door. footmen in expensive liveries were seated in the hall. in the spacious drawing-room, ladies, old and young, wearing rich dresses and ornaments, were talking to some young men, and dressing up small dolls, intended for a lottery in aid of the poor. the sight of this drawing-room and of the people assembled there struck me very painfully. for not only was their property worth several million rubles; not only would the interest on the capital spent here on dresses, laces, bronzes, jewels, carriages, horses, liveries, footmen, exceed a hundred times the value of these ladies' work,--but even the expenses caused by this very party of ladies and gentlemen, the gloves, the linen, candles, tea, sugar, cakes, all this represented a sum a hundred times greater than the value of the work done. i saw all this, and therefore might have understood that here, at all events, i should not find sympathy with my plan, but i had come in order to give a proposal, and, however painful it was, i said what i wished to say, repeating almost the words of my article. one lady present offered me some money, adding that, owing to her sensibilities, she did not feel strong enough to visit the poor herself, but that she would give help in this form. how much money, and when she would give it, she did not say. another lady and a young man offered their services in visiting the poor, but i did not profit by their offer. the principal person i addressed told me that it would be impossible to do much, because the means were not forthcoming. the means were scarce, because all the rich men in moscow who were known and could be counted upon had already given all it was possible to get from them, their charities had already been rewarded with titles, medals, and other distinctions,--which was the only effectual way to ensure success in the collection of money; and to obtain new honors from the authorities was very difficult. when i returned home i went to bed, not only with a presentiment that nothing would result from my idea, but also with the shameful consciousness of having been doing something vile and contemptible the whole day. however, i did not desist. first, the work had been begun, and false shame prevented my giving it up; second, not only the success of the enterprise itself, but even my part in it, afforded me the possibility of continuing to live in my usual way; whereas the failure of this enterprise would have put me under the constraint of giving up my present mode of life and of seeking another. of this, i was unconsciously afraid; and therefore i refused to listen to my inner voice, and continued what i had begun. having sent my article to be printed, i read a proof-copy at a census-meeting in the town hall, hesitatingly, and blushing till my cheeks burned again. i felt very uncomfortable, and i saw that all my hearers were equally uncomfortable. on my question, whether the managers of the census would accept my proposal that they should remain at their posts in order to form a link between society and those in need, an awkward silence ensued. then two of those present made speeches, which seemed to mend the awkwardness of my suggestions. sympathy for me was expressed along with their general approbation, but they pointed out the impracticability of my scheme. everyone immediately seemed more at ease; but afterwards, still wishing to succeed, i asked each district manager separately, whether during the census he was willing to investigate the needs of the poor and afterwards remain at his post in order to form this link between the poor and the rich, all were again confounded; it seemed as though their looks said, "why, we have listened to your silly proposition out of personal regard for you; but here you come with it again!" this was the expression of their faces, but in words they told me that they consented; and two of them, separately, but as though they had agreed together, said in the same words, "we regard it as our moral duty to do so." the same impression was produced by my words upon the students who had volunteered to act as clerks during the census, when i told them that they might accomplish a charitable work besides their scientific pursuits. when we talked the matter over i noticed that they were shy of looking me straight in the face, as one often hesitates to look into the face of a good-natured man who is talking nonsense. the same impression was produced upon the editor of the paper when i handed my article to him; also upon my son, my wife, and various other people. every one seemed embarrassed, but all found it necessary to approve of the idea itself; and all, immediately after this approbation, began to express their doubts as to the success of the plan, and, for some reason or other, all without exception took to condemning the indifference and coldness of society and of the world, though they evidently excluded themselves. chapter iv by my request i was appointed to make the census of the section of khamovnitchesky police district, near the smolensky market in the prototchni lane between the shore drive and nicolsky lane. in this district are the houses known under the name of rzhanoff house or rzhanoff fortress. in bygone times these houses belonged to the merchant rzhanoff, and are now the property of the merchants zeemin. i had long before heard that this was considered the lowest circle of poverty and vice, which was the reason why i asked the officers of the census to assign this district to me. my desire was gratified. having received the appointment from the town council, i went alone, a few days before the census, to inspect my district. with the help of a plan i soon found the rzhanoff houses,--approached by a street which terminated on the left-hand side of nicolsky lane--a gloomy building without any apparent entrance. from the aspect of this house i guessed it was the one i was in search of. descending the street, i came across some boys, from ten to fourteen years old, in short coats, who were sliding down the frozen gutter, some on their feet, others upon a single skate. the boys were ragged, and, like all town boys, sharp and bold. i stopped to look at them. an old woman in torn clothes, with hanging yellow cheeks, came round the corner. she was going up-hill to smolensky market, gasping painfully at every step, like a horse out of wind; and when abreast of me, stopped with hoarse, choking breath. in any other place, this old woman would have asked alms, but here she only began to talk. "just look at them!" she said, pointing to the sliding boys; "always at mischief! they will become the same rzhanoff good-for-nothings as their fathers." one boy, in an overcoat and cap without a peak, overhearing her words, stopped. "you shut up!" he shouted. "you're only an old rzhanoff goat yourself!" i asked the boy if he lived here. "yes, and so does she. she stole some boots," he called out, and, pushing himself off, slid on. the old woman began a torrent of abuse, interrupted by coughs. during the squabble an old white-haired man, all in rags, came down the middle of the street, brandishing his arms, and carrying in one hand a bundle of small rusk rings. he seemed to have just fortified himself with a glass of liquor. he had evidently heard the old woman's abuse and took her side. "i'll give it you, you little devils!" he shouted, pretending to rush after them; and, passing behind me, he stepped on the pavement. if you saw this old man in the artat, a fashionable street, you would be struck with his air of decrepitude, feebleness, and poverty. here he appeared as a merry workman returning from his day's labor. i followed him. he turned round the corner to the left into prototchni, an alley, passed the front of the house and the gate, and disappeared through the door of an inn. into this alley opened the doors of the latter, a public-house, and several small eating-houses. it was the rzhanoff houses. every thing was gray, dirty, and foul-smelling,--buildings, lodgings, courts, and people. most of those i met here were in tattered clothes, half naked. some were passing along, others were running from one door to another. two were bargaining about some rags. i went round the whole building, down another lane and a court, and, having returned, stopped at the archway of the rzhanoff houses. i wanted to go in and see what was going on inside, but the idea made me feel painfully awkward. if they asked me what i had come for, what should i say? however after a little hesitation i went in. the moment i entered the court i was conscious of a most revolting stench. the court was dreadfully dirty. i turned round the corner, and at the same instant heard steps running along the boards of the gallery and down the stairs. first a gaunt-looking woman, with tucked-up sleeves, a faded pink dress, and shoes on her stockingless feet, rushed out; after her, a rough-haired man in a red shirt, and extremely wide trousers, like a petticoat, and goloshes on his feet. the man caught her under the stairs: "you sha'n't escape me," he said, laughing. "just listen to the squint-eyed devil!" began the woman, who was evidently not averse to his attentions; but, having caught sight of me, she exclaimed angrily, "who are you looking for?" as i did not want anyone in particular, i felt somewhat confused, and went away. this little incident, though by no means remarkable in itself, suddenly showed me the work i was about to undertake in an entirely new light, especially after what i had seen on the other side of the courtyard,--the scolding woman, the light-hearted old man, and the sliding boys. i had meditated doing good to these people by the help of the rich men of moscow. i now realized, for the first time, that all these poor unfortunates, whom i had been wishing to help, had, besides the time they spent suffering from cold and hunger in waiting to get a lodging, several hours daily to get through, and that they must somehow fill up the rest of the twenty-four hours of every day,--a whole life, of which i had never thought before. i realized now, for the first time, that all these people, besides the mere effort to find food and shelter from the cold, must live through the rest of every day of their life as other people have to do, must get angry at times, and be dull, and try to appear light-hearted, and be sad or merry. now, for the first time (however strange the confession may sound), i was fully aware that the task which i was undertaking could not simply consist in feeding and clothing a thousand people (just as one might feed a thousand head of sheep, and drive them into shelter), but must develop some more essential help. when i considered that each one of these individuals was just another man like myself, possessing also a past history, with the same passions, temptations, and errors, the same thoughts, the same questions to be answered, then suddenly the work before me appeared stupendous and i felt my own utter helplessness;--but it had begun and i was resolved to go on. chapter v on the appointed day, the students who were to assist me started early in the morning; while i, the philanthropist, only joined them at twelve o'clock. i could not come earlier, as i did not get up till ten, after which i had to take some coffee, and then smoke for the sake of my digestion. twelve o'clock, then, found me at the door of the rzhanoff houses. a policeman showed me a public-house to which the census-clerks referred all those who wished to enquire for them. i entered, and found it very dirty and unsavoury. here, right in front of me, was a counter; to the left a small room, furnished with tables covered with soiled napkins; to the right a large room on pillars, containing similar little tables placed in the windows and along the walls; with men here and there having tea, some very ragged, others well dressed, apparently workmen or small shopkeepers. there were also several women. in spite of the dirt, it was easy to see, by the business air of the man in charge, and the ready, obliging manners of the waiters, that the eating-house was driving a good trade. i had no sooner entered than one of the waiters was already preparing to assist me in getting off my overcoat, anxious to take my orders, and showing that evidently the people here were in the habit of doing their work quickly and readily. my enquiry for the census-clerks was answered by a call for "ványa" from a little man dressed in foreign fashion, who was arranging something in a cupboard behind the counter. this was the proprietor of the public-house, a peasant from kaluga, iván fedotitch by name, who also rented half of the other houses, sub-letting the rooms to lodgers. in answer to his call, a thin, sallow-faced, hook-nosed lad, about eighteen years old, came forward hastily. the landlord said, "take this gentleman to the clerks: they have gone to the main body of the building over the well." the lad put down his napkin, pulled on a coat over his white shirt and trousers, picked up a large cap with a peak, and then, with quick, short steps, led the way by a back-door through the buildings. at the entrance of a greasy, malodorous kitchen, we met an old woman who was carefully carrying some putrid tripe in a rag. we descended into a court, built up all round with wooden buildings on stone foundations. the smell was most offensive, and seemed to be concentrated in a privy to which numbers of people were constantly resorting. this privy was really only the place which custom accepted as a privy. one could not avoid noticing this place as one passed through the courtyard. one suffered in entering the acrid atmosphere of the bad smells issuing from it. the boy, taking care not to soil his white trousers, led me cautiously across frozen and unfrozen filth, and approached one of the buildings. the people crossing the yard and galleries all stopped to gaze at me. it was evident that a cleanly-dressed man was an unusual sight in the place. the boy asked a woman whom we met, whether she had seen where the census officials had entered, and three people at once answered his question: some said that they were over the well; others said that they had been there, but had now gone to nikita ivanovitch's. an old man in the middle of the court, who had only a shirt on, said that they were at no.  . the boy concluded that this information was the most probable and led me to no.  , into the basement, where darkness prevailed and a bad smell, different from that which filled the court. we continued to descend along a dark passage. as we were traversing it a door was suddenly opened, out of which came a drunken old man in a shirt, evidently not of the peasant class. a shrieking washerwoman with tucked-up sleeves and soapy arms was pushing him out of the room. "ványa" (my guide) shoved him aside, saying, "it won't do to kick up such a row here--and you an officer too!" when we arrived at no.  , ványa pulled the door, which opened with the sound of a wet slap; and we felt a gush of soapy steam and an odor of bad food and tobacco, and entered in complete darkness. the windows were on the other side; and we were in a crooked corridor, that went right and left, with doors leading at different angles into rooms separated from it by a partition of unevenly laid boards, roughly whitewashed. in a dark room to the left we could see a woman washing at a trough. another old woman was looking out of a door at the right. near an open door was a hairy, red-skinned peasant in bark shoes, sitting on a couch. his hands rested upon his knees; and he was swinging his feet and looking sadly at his shoes. at the end of the passage a small door led into the room where the census officers had assembled. this was the room of the landlady of the whole of no.  , who rented it from iván fedotitch and sub-let to ordinary or night lodgers. in this tiny room a student sat under an image glittering with gilt paper, and, with the air of a magistrate, was putting questions to a man dressed in shirt and vest. this last was a friend of the landlady's, who was answering the questions in her stead. the landlady herself,--an old woman,--and two inquisitive lodgers, were also present. when i entered, the room was quite filled up. i pushed through to the table, shook hands with the student, and he went on extracting his information, while i studied the inhabitants, and put questions to them for my own ends. it appeared, however, i could find no one here upon whom to bestow my benevolence. the landlady of the rooms, notwithstanding their wretchedness and filth (which especially struck me in comparison with the mansion in which i lived), was well off, even from the point of view of town poverty; and compared with country destitution, with which i was well acquainted, she lived luxuriously. she had a feather-bed, a quilted blanket, a samovár, a fur cloak, a cupboard, with dishes, plates, etc. the landlady's friend had the same well-to-do appearance, and boasted even a watch and chain. the lodgers were poor, but among them there was no one requiring immediate help. three only applied for aid,--the woman washing linen, who said she had been abandoned by her husband; an old widowed woman, without means of livelihood; and the peasant in the bark shoes, who told me he had not had anything to eat that day. but, upon gathering more precise information, it became evident that all these people were not in extreme want, and that, before one could really help, it would be necessary to make their more intimate acquaintance. when i offered the washerwoman to place her children in a "home," she became confused, thought over it some time, then thanked me much, but evidently did not desire it; she would rather have had some money. her eldest daughter helped her in the washing, and the second acted as nurse to the little boy. the old woman asked to be put into a refuge; but, examining her corner, i saw she was not in extreme distress. she had a box containing some property and a teapot, two cups, and old bon-bon boxes with tea and sugar. she knitted stockings and gloves, and received a monthly allowance from a lady benefactress. the peasant was evidently more desirous of wetting his throat after his last day's drunkenness than of food, and anything given him would have gone to the public-house. in these rooms, therefore, there was no one whom i could have rendered in any respect happier by helping them with money. there were only paupers there,--and paupers, it seemed, of a questionable kind. i put down the names of the old woman, the laundress, and the peasant, and settled in my mind that it would be necessary to do something for them, but that first i would help those other _especially_ unfortunate ones whom i expected to come across in this house. i made up my mind that some system was necessary in distributing the aid which we had to give: first, we must find the most needy, and then come to such as these. but in the next lodging, and in the next again, i found only similar cases, which would have to be looked into more closely before being helped. of those whom pecuniary aid alone would have rendered happy, i found none. however ashamed i feel in confessing it, i began to experience a certain disappointment at not finding in these houses anything resembling what i had expected. i thought to find very exceptional people; but, when i had gone over all the lodgings, i became convinced that their inhabitants were in no way extremely peculiar, but much like those amongst whom i lived. as with us, so also with them, there were some more or less good and others more or less bad: there were some more or less happy and others more or less unhappy. those who were unhappy amongst them would have been equally wretched with us, their misery being within themselves,--a misery not to be mended by any kind of bank-note. chapter vi the inhabitants of these houses belonged to the lowest population of the town, which in moscow amounts to perhaps more than a hundred thousand. in this house, there were representative men of all kinds,--petty employers and journeymen, shoemakers, brushmakers, joiners, hackney coachmen, jobbers carrying on business on their own account, washerwomen, second-hand dealers, money-lenders, day-laborers, and others without any definite occupation; and here also lodged beggars and unfortunate women. many who were like the people i had seen waiting at liapin's house lived here, mixed up with the working-people. but those whom i saw then were in a most wretched condition, having eaten and drunk all they had, and, turned out of the public-house, were waiting, as for heavenly manna, cold and hungry, to be admitted into the free night-lodging-house,--and longing day by day to be taken to prison, in order to be sent back to their homes. here i saw the same men among a greater number of working-people, at a time when by some means or other they had got a few farthings to pay for their night's lodging, and perhaps a ruble or two for food and drink. however strange it may sound, i had no such feelings here as i experienced in liapin's house; on the contrary, during my first visiting-round, i and the students had a sensation which was rather agreeable than otherwise. why do i say "almost agreeable?" it is not true. the sensation called forth by the companionship of these men--strange as it may seem--was simply a very agreeable one. the first impression was, that the majority of the lodgers here were working people, and very kindly disposed. we found most of them at work,--the washerwomen at their tubs, the joiners by their benches, the bootmakers at their lasts. the tiny rooms were full of people, and the work was going on cheerfully and with energy. there was a smell of perspiration among the workmen, of leather at the bootmaker's, of chips in the carpenter's shop. we often heard songs, and saw bare, sinewy arms working briskly and skilfully. everywhere we were received kindly and cheerfully. nearly everywhere our intrusion into the daily life of these people excited no desire in them to show us their importance, or to rate us soundly, which happens when such visits are paid to the lodgings of well-to-do people. on the contrary, all our questions were answered simply, without any particular importance being attached to them,--served, indeed, only as an excuse for merriment and for jokes about how they were to be enrolled on the list, how such a one was as good as two, and how two others ought to be reckoned as one. many we found at dinner or at tea; and each time, in answer to our greeting, "bread and salt," or, "tea and sugar," they said, "you are welcome"; and some even made room for us to sit down. instead of the place being the resort of an ever-shifting population, such as we expected to find, it turned out that in this house were many rooms which had been tenanted by the same people for long periods. one carpenter, with his workmen, and a bootmaker, with his journeymen, had been living here for ten years. the bootmaker's shop was very dirty and quite choked up, but all his men were working very cheerily. i tried to talk with one of the workmen, wishing to sound him about the miseries of his lot, what he owed to the master, and so forth; but he did not understand me, and spoke of his master and of his life from a very favourable point of view. in one lodging, there lived an old man with his old wife. they dealt in apples. their room was warm, clean, and filled with their belongings. the floor was covered with straw-matting which they got from the apple stores. there were chests, a cupboard, a samovár, and crockery. in the corner were many holy images, before which two lamps were burning: on the wall hung fur cloaks wrapped up in a sheet. the old woman with wrinkled face, kind and talkative, was apparently quite delighted with her quiet, respectable life. iván fedotitch, the owner of the inn and of the lodgings, came out and walked with us. he joked kindly with many of the lodgers, calling them all by their names, and giving us short sketches of their characters. they were as other men, did not consider themselves unhappy, but believed they were like everyone else, as in reality they were. we were prepared to see only dreadful things, and we met instead objects not only not repulsive, but estimable. there were so many of these, compared with the ragged, ruined, unoccupied people we met now and then among them, that the latter did not in the least destroy the general impression. to the students it did not appear so remarkable as it did to me. they were merely performing an act useful to science, as they thought; and, in passing, made casual observations: but i was a benefactor; my object in going there was to help the unhappy, ruined, depraved men and women whom i had expected to meet in this house. suddenly, instead of unhappy, ruined, depraved beings, i found the majority to be workingmen: quiet, satisfied, cheerful, kind, and very good. i was still more strongly impressed when i found that in these lodgings the crying want i wished to relieve had already been relieved before i came. but by whom? by these same unhappy, depraved beings whom i was prepared to save! and this help was given in a way not open to me. in one cellar lay a lonely old man suffering from typhus-fever. he had no connections in the world; yet a woman,--a widow with a little girl,--quite a stranger to him, but living in the corner next to him, nursed him, gave him tea, and bought him medicine with her own money. in another lodging lay a woman in puerperal fever. a woman of the town was nursing her child, and had prepared a sucking-bottle for him, and had not gone out to ply her sad trade for two days. an orphan girl was taken into the family of a tailor, who had three children of his own. thus, there remained only such miserable unoccupied men as retired officials, clerks, men-servants out of situations, beggars, tipsy people, prostitutes, children, whom it was not possible to help all at once by means of money, but whose cases it was necessary to consider carefully before assisting them. i had been seeking for men suffering immediately from want of means, whom one might be able to help by sharing one's superfluities with them. i had not found them. all whom i had seen, it would have been very difficult to assist materially without devoting time and care to their cases. chapter vii these unfortunate necessitous ones ranged themselves in my mind under three heads: first, those who had lost former advantageous positions, and who were waiting to return to them (such men belonged to the lowest as well as to the highest classes of society); secondly, women of the town, who are very numerous in these houses; and thirdly, children. the majority of those i found, and noted down, were men who had lost former places, and were desirous of returning to them, chiefly of the better class, and government officials. in almost all the lodgings we entered with the landlord, we were told, "here we need not trouble to fill up the card ourselves: the man here is able to do it, provided he is not tipsy." thus summoned by iván fedotitch, there would appear, from some dark corner, the once rich nobleman or official, mostly drunk, and always half-dressed. if he were not drunk, he willingly undertook the task: he kept nodding his head with a sense of importance, knitted his brows, inserted now and then learned terms in his remarks, and carefully holding in his dirty, trembling hands the neat pink card, looked round at his fellow-lodgers with pride and contempt, as if he were now, by the superiority of his education, triumphing over those who had been continually humbling him. he was evidently pleased to have intercourse with the world which used pink cards, with a world of which he himself had once been a member. to my questions about his life, this kind of man not only replied willingly, but with enthusiasm,--beginning to tell a story, fixed in his mind like a prayer, about all kinds of misfortunes which had happened to him, and chiefly about his former position, in which, considering his education, he ought to have remained. many such people are scattered about in all the tenements of the rzhanoff houses. one lodging-house was tenanted exclusively by them, women and men. as we approached them, iván fedotitch said, "now, here's where the nobility live." the lodging was full. almost all the lodgers--about forty persons--were at home. in the whole house, there were no faces so ruined and degraded-looking as these,--if old, flabby; if young, pale and haggard. i talked with several of them. almost always the same story was told, differing only in degree of development. one and all had been once rich, or had still a rich father or brother or uncle; or either his father or his unfortunate self had held a high office. then came some misfortune caused by envious enemies, or his own imprudent kindness, or some out-of-the-way occurrence; and, having lost everything, he was obliged to descend to these strange and hateful surroundings, among lice and rags, in company with drunkards and loose characters, feeding upon bread and liver, and subsisting by beggary. all the thoughts, desires, and recollections of these men are turned toward the past. the present appears to them as something unnatural, hideous, and unworthy of attention. it does not exist for them. they have only recollections of the past, and expectations of the future which may be realized at any moment, and for the attainment of which but very little is needed; but, unfortunately, this little is out of their reach; it cannot be got anywhere: and so one has wasted one year, another five, and a third thirty years. one needs only to be dressed respectably in order to call on a well-known person who is kindly disposed toward him; another requires only to be dressed, have his debts paid, and go to some town or other; a third wants to take his effects out of pawn, and get a small sum to carry on a law-suit, which must be decided in his favour, and then all will be well again. all say that they have need of some external circumstance in order to regain that position which they think natural and happy. if i had not been blinded by my pride in being a benefactor, i should have needed only to look a little closer into their faces, young and old, which were generally weak, sensual, but kind, in order to understand that their misfortunes could not be met by external means; that they could be happy in no position while their present conception of life remained the same; that they were by no means peculiar people in peculiarly unhappy circumstances, but that they were like all other men, ourselves included. i remember well how my intercourse with men of this class was particularly trying to me. i now understand why it was so. in them i saw my own self as in a mirror. if i had considered carefully my own life and the lives of people of my own class, i should have seen that between us and these unfortunate men there existed no essential difference. those who live around me in expensive suites of apartments and houses of their own in the best streets of the city, eating something better than liver or herring with their bread, are none the less unhappy. they also are discontented with their lot, regret the past, and desire a happier future, precisely as did the wretched tenants of the rzhanoff houses. both wished to be worked less and to be worked for more, the difference between them being only in degrees of idleness. unfortunately, i did not see this at first, nor did i understand that such people needed to be relieved, not by my charity, but from their own false views of the world; and that to change a man's estimate of life he must be given one more accurate than his own, which, unhappily, not possessing myself, i could not communicate to others. these men were unhappy not because, to use an illustration, they were without nourishing food, but because their stomachs were spoiled; and they required, not nourishment, but a tonic. i did not see that in order to help them, it was not necessary to give them food but to teach them how to eat. though i am anticipating, i must say that of all these people whose names i put down i did not in reality help one, notwithstanding that everything some of them had desired was done to relieve them. of these i became acquainted with three men in particular. all three, after many failures and much assistance, are now in the same position they were in three years ago. chapter viii the second class of unfortunates, whom i hoped afterwards to be able to help, were women of the town. these women were very numerous in the rzhanoff houses; and they were of every kind, from young girls still bearing some likeness to women, to old and fearful-looking creatures without a vestige of humanity. the hope of helping these women, whom i had not at first in view, was aroused by the following circumstances. when we had finished half of our tour, we had already acquired a somewhat mechanical method. on entering a new lodging we at once asked for the landlord. one of us sat down, clearing a space to write; and the other went from one to another, questioning each man and woman in the room, and reporting the information obtained to him who was writing. on our entering one of the basement lodgings, the student went to look for the landlord; and i began to question all who were in the place. this place was divided thus: in the middle of the room, which was four yards square, there stood a stove. from the stove four partitions or screens radiated, making a similar number of small compartments. in the first of these, which had two doors in it opposite each other, and four pallets, were an old man and a woman. next to this was a rather long but narrow room, in which was the landlord, a young, pale, good-looking man dressed in a gray woollen coat. to the left of the first division was a third small room where a man was sleeping, seemingly tipsy, and a woman in a pink dressing-gown. the fourth compartment was behind a partition, access to it being through the landlord's room. the student entered the latter, while i remained in the first, questioning the old man and the woman. the former had been a compositor, but now had no means of livelihood whatever. the woman was a cook's wife. i went into the third compartment, and asked the woman in the dressing-gown about the man who was asleep. she answered that he was a visitor. i asked her who she was. she replied that she was a peasant girl from the county of moscow. "what is your occupation?" she laughed, and made no answer. "what do you do for your living?" i repeated, thinking she had not understood the question. "i sit in the inn," she said. i did not understand her, and asked again,-- "what are your means of living?" she gave me no answer, but continued to giggle. in the fourth room, where we had not yet been, i heard the voices of women also giggling. the landlord came out of his room, and approached us. he had evidently heard my questions and the woman's answers. he glanced sternly at her, and, turning to me, said, "she is a prostitute"; and it was evident that he was pleased that he knew this word,--which is the one used in official circles,--and at having pronounced it correctly. and having said this with a respectful smile of satisfaction towards me, he turned to the woman. as he did so, the expression of his face changed. in a peculiarly contemptuous manner, and with rapid utterance as one would speak to a dog, he said, without looking at her, "don't be a fool! instead of saying you sit in the inn, speak plainly, and say you are a prostitute.--she does not even yet know her proper name," he said, turning to me. this manner of speaking shocked me. "it is not for us to shame her," i said. "if we were all living according to god's commandment, there would be no such persons." "there are such doings," said the landlord, with an artificial smile. "therefore we must pity them, and not reproach them. is it their fault?" i do not remember exactly what i said. i remember only that i was disgusted by the disdainful tone of this young landlord, in a lodging filled with females whom he termed prostitutes; and i pitied the woman, and expressed both feelings. no sooner had i said this, than i heard from the small compartment where the giggling had been, the noise of creaking bed-boards; and over the partition, which did not reach to the ceiling, appeared the dishevelled curly head of a female with small swollen eyes, and a shining red face; a second, and then a third, head followed. they were evidently standing on their beds; and all three were stretching their necks and holding their breath, and looking silently at me with strained attention. a painful silence followed. the student, who had been smiling before this happened, now became grave; the landlord became confused, and cast down his eyes; and the women continued to look at me in expectation. i felt more disconcerted than all the rest. i had certainly not expected that a casual word would produce such an effect. it was like the field of battle covered with dead bones seen by the prophet ezekiel, on which, trembling from contact with the spirit, the dead bones began to move. i had casually uttered a word of love and pity, which produced upon all such an effect that it seemed as if they had been only waiting for it, to cease to be corpses, and to become alive again. they continued to look at me, as if wondering what would come next, as if waiting for me to say those words and do those acts by which these dry bones would begin to come together,--be covered with flesh and receive life. but i felt, alas! that i had no such words or deeds to give, or to continue as i had begun. in the depth of my soul i felt that i had told a lie, that i myself was like them, that i had nothing more to say; and i began to write down on the card the names and the occupations of all the lodgers there. this occurrence led me into a new kind of error. i began to think that these unhappy creatures also could be helped. this, in my self deception, it seemed to me would be very easily done. i said to myself, "now we shall put down the names of these women too; and afterwards, when we (though it never occurred to me to ask who were the _we_) have written everything down, we can occupy ourselves with their affairs." i imagined that _we_, the very persons who, during many generations, have been leading such women into such a condition, and still continue to do so, could one fine morning wake up and remedy it all. and yet, if i could have recollected my conversation with the lost woman who was nursing the baby for the sick mother, i should have understood the folly of such an idea. when we first saw this woman nursing the child, we thought that it was hers; but upon our asking her what she was, she answered us plainly that she was a wench. she did not say "prostitute." it was left for the proprietor of the lodgings to make use of that terrible word. the supposition that she had a child gave me the idea of helping her out of her present position. "is this child yours?" i asked. "no: it is that woman's there." "why do you nurse him?" "she asked me to. she is dying." though my surmise turned out to be wrong, i continued to speak with her in the same spirit. i began to question her as to who she was, and how she came to be in such a position. she told me her story willingly, and very plainly. she belonged to the artisan class of moscow, the daughter of a factory workman. she was left an orphan, and adopted by her aunt, from whose house she began to visit the inns. the aunt was now dead. when i asked her whether she wished to change her course of life, my question did not even interest her. how can a supposition about something quite impossible awaken an interest in any one? she smiled and said,-- "who would take me with a yellow ticket?"[ ] [ ] the police certificate of registration as a prostitute.--ed. "but," said i, "if it were possible to find you a situation as a cook or something else?" i said this because she looked like a strong woman, with a kind, dull, round face, not unlike many cooks i had seen. evidently my words did not please her. she repeated, "cook! but i do not understand how to bake bread." she spoke jestingly; but, by the expression of her face, i saw that she was unwilling; that she even considered the position and rank of a cook beneath her. this woman, who, in the most simple manner, like the widow in the gospel, had sacrificed all that she had for a sick person, at the same time, like other women of the same profession, considered the position of a workman or workwoman low and despicable. she had been educated to live without work,--a life which all her friends considered quite natural. this was her misfortune. and by this she came into her present position, and is kept in it. this brought her to the inns. who of us men and women will cure her of this false view of life? are there among us any men convinced that a laborious life is more respectable than an idle one, and who are living according to this conviction, and who make this the test of their esteem and respect? if i had thought about it i should have understood that neither i nor anybody else i know, was able to cure a person of this disease. i should have understood that those wondering and awakened faces that looked over the partition expressed merely astonishment at the pity shown to them, but no wish to reform their lives. they did not see the immorality. they knew that they were despised and condemned, but the reason for this they could not understand. they had lived in this manner from their infancy among women like themselves, who, they know very well, have always existed, do exist, and are necessary to society, that there are officials deputed by government to see that they conform to regulations. besides, they know that they have power over men, and subdue them, and often influence them more than any other women. they see that their position in society, notwithstanding the fact that they are always blamed, is recognised by men as well as by women and by the government; and therefore they cannot even understand of what they have to repent, and wherein they should reform. during one of our tours the student told me that in one of the lodgings there was a woman who sends out her daughter, thirteen years old, to walk the streets. wishing to save this little girl i went on purpose to their lodging. mother and daughter were living in great poverty. the mother, a small, dark-complexioned prostitute of forty years of age, was not simply ugly, but disagreeably ugly. the daughter was also bad-looking. to all my indirect questions about their mode of life, the mother replied curtly, with a look of suspicion and animosity, apparently feeling that i was an enemy with bad intentions: the daughter said nothing without looking first at the mother, in whom she evidently had entire confidence. they did not awaken pity in my heart, but rather disgust. still i decided that it was necessary to save the daughter, to awaken an interest in ladies who might sympathize with the miserable condition of these women and might so be brought here. yet if i had thought about the antecedents of the mother, how she had given birth to her daughter, how she had fed and brought her up, certainly without any outside help, and with great sacrifices to herself; if i had thought of the view of life which had formed itself in her mind,--i should have understood, that, in the mother's conduct, there was nothing at all bad or immoral, seeing she had been doing for her daughter all she could; i.e., what she considered best for herself. it was possible to take this girl away from her mother by force; but to convince her that she was doing wrong in selling her daughter was not possible. it would first be necessary to save this woman--this mother--from a condition of life approved by every one, and according to which a woman may live without marrying and without working, serving exclusively as a gratification to the passions. if i had thought about this, i should have understood that the majority of those ladies whom i wished to send here for saving this girl were not only themselves avoiding family duties, and leading idle and sensuous lives, but were consciously educating their daughters for this very same mode of existence. one mother leads her daughter to the inn, and another to court and to balls. both the views of the world held by both mothers are the same; viz., that a woman must gratify the passions of men, and for that she must be fed, dressed, and taken care of. how, then, are our ladies to reform this woman and her daughter? chapter ix still more strange were my dealings with the children. in my _rôle_ as benefactor i paid attention to the children too, wishing to save innocent beings from going to ruin in this den; and i wrote down their names in order to attend to them myself _afterwards_. among these children my attention was particularly drawn to serozha, a boy twelve years old. i sincerely pitied this clever, intelligent lad, who had been living with a bootmaker, and who was left without any place of refuge when his master was put into prison. i wished to do something for him. i will now give the result of my benevolence in his case, because this boy's story will show my false position as a benefactor better than anything else. i took the boy into my house, and lodged him in the kitchen. could i possibly bring a lousy boy out of a den of depravity to my children? i considered that i had been very kind in having put him where he was, amongst my servants. i thought myself a great benefactor for having given him some of my old clothes and fed him; though it was properly my cook who did it, not i. the boy remained in my house about a week. during this week i saw him twice, and, passing him, spoke some words to him, and, when out walking, called on a bootmaker whom i knew and proposed the boy as an apprentice. a peasant who was on a visit at my house invited him to go to his village and work in a family. the boy refused to accept it and disappeared within a week. i went to rzhanoff's house to enquire after him. he had returned there; but when i called, he was not at home. he had already been two days in a menagerie in presnem ponds, where he hired himself for d. a day to appear in a procession of savages in costume, leading an elephant. there was some public show on at the time. i went to see him again, but he was so ungrateful, he evidently avoided me. had i reflected upon the life of this boy and on my own, i should have understood that the boy had been spoiled by the fact of his having tasted the sweets of a merry and idle life, and that he had lost the habit of working. and i, in order to confer on him a benefit and reform him, took him into my own house. and what did he see there? he saw my children, some older than he, some younger, and some of the same age, who not only never did anything for themselves, but gave as much work to others as they could. they dirtied and spoiled everything about them, surfeited themselves with all sorts of dainties, broke the china, upset and threw to the dogs food which would have been a treat to him. if i took him out of a den and brought him to a respectable place, he could not but assimilate the views of life which existed there; and, according to these views, he understood that in a respectable position one must live without working, eat and drink well, and lead a merry life. true, he did not know that my children had much labour in learning the exceptions in latin and greek grammars; nor would he have been able to understand the object of such work. but one cannot help seeing that even had he understood it the influence upon him of the example of my children would have been still stronger. he would have then understood that they were being educated in such a way, that, not working now, they might afterwards also work as little as possible, and enjoy the good things of life by virtue of their diplomas. but what he did understand of it made him go, not to the peasant to take care of cattle and feed on potatoes and kvas,[ ] but to the menagerie in the costume of a savage to lead an elephant for d. a day. i ought to have understood how foolish it was of one who was educating his own children in complete idleness and luxury to try to reform other men and their children, and save them from going to ruin and idleness in what i called the _dens_ in rzhanoff's house; where, however, three-fourths of the men were working for themselves and for others. but then i understood nothing of all this. [ ] an unfermented home-made liquor used by russian peasants.--ed. in rzhanoff's house there were a great many children in the most miserable condition. there were children of prostitutes, orphans, and children carried about the streets by beggars. they were all very wretched. but my experience with serozha showed me that so long as i continued living the life i did i was not able to help them. while the boy was living with us i remember i took pains to hide from him our way of life, particularly that of my children. i felt that all my endeavours to lead him to a good and laborious life were frustrated by my example and that of my children. it is very easy to take away a child from a prostitute or a beggar. it is very easy, when one has money, to wash him, dress him in new clothes, feed him well, and even teach him different accomplishments; but to teach him how to earn his living, is, for us who have not been earning ours but doing just the contrary, not only difficult but quite impossible, because by our example and by the very improvements of his mode of life effected by us without any cost on our part, we teach him the very opposite. you may take a puppy, pet him, feed him, teach him to carry things after you, and be pleased with looking at him: but it is not enough to feed a man, dress him, and teach him greek; you must teach him how to live; i.e., how to take less from others and give them more in return: and yet through our own mode of life we cannot help teaching him the very opposite whether we take him into our house or put him into a home to bring up. chapter x i have never since experienced such a feeling of compassion towards men and of aversion towards myself, as i felt in liapin's house. i was now filled with the desire to carry out the scheme i had already begun and to do good to the men whom i had met. and, strange to say, though it might seem that to do good and to give money to those in want of it was a good deed, and ought to dispose men to universal love, it turned out quite the reverse; calling up in me bitter feelings and disposition to censure them. even during our first tour a scene occurred similar to that in liapin's house; but it failed to produce again the same effect and created a very different impression. it began with my finding in one of the lodgings a miserable person who required immediate help,--a woman who had not eaten food for two days. it happened thus: in one very large and almost empty night-lodging, i asked an old woman whether there were any poor people who had nothing to eat. she hesitated a moment and then named two; then suddenly, as if recollecting herself, she said, "yes, there lies one of them," pointing to a pallet. "this one," she added, "indeed, has nothing to eat." "you don't say so! who is she?" "she has been a lost woman; but as nobody takes her now, she can't earn anything. the landlady has had pity on her, but now she wants to turn her out.--agafia! i say, agafia!" cried the old woman. we went a little nearer, and saw something rise from the pallet. this was a grey-haired, dishevelled woman, thin as a skeleton, in a dirty, torn chemise, and with peculiarly glittering, immovable eyes. she looked fixedly beyond us, tried to snatch up her jacket behind her in order to cover her bony chest, and growled out like a dog, "what? what?" i asked her how she managed to live. for some time she was unable to see the drift of my words and said, "i don't know myself; they are going to turn me out." i asked again; and oh, how ashamed of myself i feel! my hand can scarcely write it! i asked her whether it was true that she was starving. she replied in the same feverish, excited manner, "i had nothing to eat yesterday; i have had nothing to eat to-day." the miserable aspect of this woman impressed me deeply, but quite differently from those in liapin's house: there, out of pity for them, i felt embarrassed and ashamed of myself; but here, i rejoiced that i had at last found what i had been looking for,--a hungry being. i gave her a ruble and i remember how glad i felt that the others had seen it. the old woman forthwith asked me also for money. it was so pleasant to me to give that i handed her some also, without thinking whether it was necessary or not. she accompanied me to the door, and those who were in the corridor heard how she thanked me. probably my questions about the poor provoked expectations, for some of the inmates began to follow us wherever we went. among those that begged, there were evidently drunkards, who gave me a most disagreeable impression; but having once given to the old woman i thought i had no right to refuse them, and i began to give away more. this only increased the number of applicants, and there was a stir throughout the whole lodging-house. on the stairs and in the galleries, people appeared dogging my steps. when i came out of the yard, a boy ran quickly down the stairs, pushing through the people. he did not notice me and said hurriedly,-- "he gave a ruble to agafia!" having reached the ground, he, too, joined the crowd that was following me. i came out into the street. all sorts of people crowded round begging for money. having given away all i had in coppers, i entered a shop and asked the proprietor to give me change for ten rubles. here occurred a scene similar to that which took place in liapin's house. a dreadful confusion ensued. old women, seedy gentlefolk, peasants, children, all crowded about the shop, stretching out their hands; i gave, and asked some of them about their position and means, and entered all in my note-book. the shopkeeper, having turned up the fur collar of his great-coat, was sitting like a statue, glancing now and then at the crowd, and again staring beyond it. he apparently felt like everyone else, that all this was very foolish, but he dared not say so. in liapin's house the misery and humiliation of the people had overwhelmed me; and i felt myself to blame for it, and also the desire and the possibility of becoming a better man. but though the scene here was similar, it produced quite a different effect. in the first place, i felt angry with many of those who assailed me, and then anxious as to what the shopmen and the dvorniks might think of me. i returned home that day with a weight on my mind. i knew that what i had done was foolish and inconsistent; but, as usual when my conscience was troubled, i talked the more about my projected plan, as if i had no doubt whatever as to its success. the next day i went alone to those whom i had noted down, and who seemed the most miserable, thinking they could be more easily helped than others. as i have already mentioned, i was not really able to help any of these people. it turned out that to do so was more difficult than i had imagined: in short, i only tormented these men and helped no one. before the last visiting-tour i went several times to rzhanoff's house, and each time the same thing occurred: i was assailed by a crowd of men and women in the midst of whom i utterly lost my presence of mind. i felt the impossibility of doing anything because there were so many of them; besides, each of them, taken separately, did not awaken any sympathy in me. i felt that every one lied, or at least prevaricated, and regarded me only as a purse out of which money could be drawn. it often seemed to me that the very money extorted from me did not improve their position but only made it worse. the oftener i went to these houses, the closer the intercourse which i had with the inmates, the more apparent became the impossibility of doing anything; but notwithstanding this, i did not give up my plan until after the last night tour with the census-takers. i feel more ashamed of this visit than of any other. formerly i had gone alone, but now twenty of us went together. at seven o'clock all who wished to take part in this last tour began to assemble in my house. they were almost all strangers to me. some students, an officer, and two of my fashionable acquaintances, who, after having repeated the usual phrase, "c'est très intéressant!" asked me to put them into the number of the census-takers. these fashionable friends of mine had dressed themselves in shooting-jackets and tall travelling boots, which they thought more suited to the visit than their ordinary clothes. they carried with them peculiar pocket-books and extraordinary-looking pencils. they were in that agitated state of mind which one experiences just before going to a hunt, or to a duel, or into a battle. the falseness and foolishness of our enterprise was now more apparent to me in looking at them; but were we not all in the same ridiculous position? before starting we had a conference, somewhat like a council of war, as to what we should begin with, how to divide ourselves, and so on. this conference was just like all other official councils, meetings, and committees: each spoke, not because he had anything to say, or to ask, but because every one tried to find something to say in order not to be behind the rest. but during the conversation no one alluded to the acts of benevolence to which i had so many times referred; and however much ashamed i felt, i found it was needful to remind them that we must carry out our charitable intentions by writing down, during the visiting-tour, the names of all whom we should find in a destitute condition. i had always felt ashamed to speak about these matters; but here, in the midst of our hurried preparations for the expedition, i could scarcely utter a word about them. all listened to me and seemed touched, all agreed with me in words; but it was evident that each of them knew that it was folly, and that it would lead to nothing, and so they began at once to talk about other subjects, and continued doing so until it was time for us to start. we came to the dark tavern, aroused the waiters, and began to sort out papers. when we were told that the people, having heard about this visiting-tour, had begun to leave their lodgings, we asked the landlord to shut the gate, and we ourselves went to the yard to persuade those to remain who wanted to escape, assuring them that no one would ask to see their passports. i remember the strange and painful impression produced upon me by these frightened night-lodgers. ragged and half-dressed, they all appeared tall by the light of the lantern in the dark court-yard. frightened and horrible in their terror, they stood in a small knot round the pestilential out-house, listening to our persuasions, but not believing us; and, evidently, like hunted animals, prepared to do anything to escape from us. gentlemen of all kinds, town and country policemen, public coroner and judges, had, all their lives, been hunting them in towns and villages, on the roads and in the streets, in the taverns and in the lodging-houses, and suddenly these gentlemen had come at night and shut the gate, only, forsooth, in order to count them! they found this as difficult to believe as it would be for hares to believe that the dogs had come out not to catch but to count them. but the gates were shut, and the frightened night-lodgers returned to their places; and we, having separated into groups, began our visit. with me were my fashionable acquaintances and two students. ványa, with a lantern, went before us in a great-coat and white trousers, and we followed. we entered lodgings well known to me. the place was familiar, some of the persons also; but the majority were new to me, and the spectacle was also a new and dreadful one,--still more dreadful than that which i had seen at liapin's house. all the lodgings were filled, all the pallets occupied, and not only by one, but often by two persons. the sight was dreadful, because of the closeness with which these people were huddled together, and because of the indiscriminate commingling of men and women. such of the latter as were not dead-drunk were sleeping with men. many women with children slept with strange men on narrow beds. the spectacle was dreadful, owing to the misery, dirt, raggedness, and terror of these people; and chiefly because there were so many of them. one lodging, then another, then a third, a tenth, a twentieth, and so on, without end. and everywhere the same fearful stench, the same suffocating exhalation, the same confusion of sexes, men and women, drunk, or in a state of insensibility; the same terror, submissiveness, and guilt stamped on all faces, so that i felt deeply ashamed and grieved, as i had before at liapin's. at last i understood that what i was about to do was disgusting, foolish, and therefore impossible; so i left off writing down their names and questioning them, knowing now that nothing would come of it. i felt deeply hurt. at liapin's i had been like a man who sees a horrible wound on the body of another. he feels sorry for the man, ashamed of not having relieved him before, yet he can still hope to help the sufferer; but now i was like a doctor who comes with his own medicines to the patient, uncovers his wound only to mangle it, and to confess to himself that all he has done has been done in vain, and that his remedy is ineffectual. chapter xi this visit gave the last blow to my self-deception. it became very evident to me that my aim was not only foolish, but even productive of evil. yet, though i knew this, it seemed my duty to continue the project a little longer: first, because of the article i had written and by my visits i had raised the expectations of the poor; secondly, because what i had said and written had awakened the sympathy of some benefactors, many of whom had promised to assist me personally and with money. and i was expecting to be applied to by both, and hoped to satisfy them as well as i was able. as regards the applications made to me by those who were in need, the following details may be given: i received more than a hundred letters, which came exclusively from the "rich poor," if i may so express myself. some of them i visited, and some i left unanswered. in no instance did i succeed in doing any good. all the applications made to me were from persons who were once in a privileged position (i call such persons privileged who receive more from others than they give in return), had lost that position, and were desirous of regaining it. one wanted two hundred rubles in order to keep his business from going to ruin, and to enable him to finish the education of his children; another wanted to have a photographic establishment; a third wanted money to pay his debts, and take his best clothes out of pawn; a fourth was in need of a piano, in order to perfect himself and to earn money to support his family by giving lessons. the majority did not name any particular sum of money: they simply asked for help; but when i began to investigate what was necessary, it turned out that their wants increased in proportion to the help offered, and nothing satisfactorily resulted. i repeat again, the fault may have been in my want of understanding; but in any case i helped no one, notwithstanding the fact that i made every effort to do so. as for the philanthropists who were to co-operate with me, something very strange and quite unexpected occurred: of all who promised to assist with money, and even stated the amount they would give, not one contributed anything for distribution among the poor. the promises of pecuniary assistance amounted to about three thousand rubles; but of all these people, not one recollected his agreement, or gave me a single kopek. the students alone gave the money which they received as payment for visiting, about twelve rubles; so that my scheme, which was to have collected tens of thousands of rubles from the rich, and to have saved hundreds and thousands of people from misery and vice, ended in my distributing at random some few rubles offered by the students, with twenty-five more sent me by the town-council for my labour as manager, which i positively did not know what to do with. so ended the affair. then, before leaving moscow for the country, on the sunday before the carnival, i went to the rzhanoff house in the morning in order to distribute the thirty-seven rubles among the poor. i visited all whom i knew in the lodgings, but found only one invalid, to whom i gave something,--five rubles, i think. there was nobody else to give to. of course, many began to beg; but, as i did not know them, i made up my mind to take the advice of iván fedotitch, the tavern-keeper, respecting the distribution of the remaining thirty-two rubles. it was the first day of the carnival. everybody was smartly dressed, all had had food, and many were drunk. in the yard near the corner of the house stood an old-clothes man, dressed in a ragged peasant's coat and bark shoes. he was still hale and hearty. sorting his purchases, he was putting them into different heaps,--leather, iron, and other things,--and was singing a merry song at the top of his voice. i began to talk with him. he was seventy years of age; had no relatives; earned his living by dealing in old clothes, and not only did not complain, but said he had enough to eat, drink, and to spare. i asked him who in the place were particularly in want. he became cross, and said plainly that there was no one in want but drunkards and idlers; but on learning my object in asking, he begged me five kopeks for drink, and ran to the tavern for it. i also went to the tavern to see iván fedotitch, to ask him to distribute the money for me. it was full; gayly-dressed tipsy prostitutes were walking to and fro; all the tables were occupied; many people were already drunk; and in the small room someone was playing a harmonium, and two people were dancing. iván fedotitch, out of respect for me, ordered them to leave off, and sat down next me at a vacant table. i asked him, as he knew his lodgers well, to point out those most in want, as i was intrusted with a little money for distribution, and wished him to direct me. the kind-hearted man (he died a year after) gave me his attention for a time in order to oblige me, although he had to wait on his customers. he began to think it over, and was evidently puzzled. one old waiter had overheard us, and took his part in the conference. they began to go over his lodgers, some of whom were known to me, but they could not agree. "paramonovna," suggested the waiter. "well; yes, she does go hungry sometimes; but she drinks." "what difference does that make?" "well, spiridon ivanovitch, he has children; that's the man for you." but iván fedotitch had doubts about spiridon too. "akulina, but she has a pension. ah, but there is the blind man!" to him i myself objected: i had just seen him. this was an old man of eighty years of age, without any relatives. one could scarcely imagine any condition to be worse; and yet i had just seen him lying drunk on a feather bed, cursing at his comparatively young mistress in the most filthy language. they then named a one-armed boy and his mother. i saw that iván fedotitch was in great difficulty owing to his conscientiousness, for he knew that every thing given away by me would be spent at his tavern. but as i had to get rid of my thirty-two rubles, i insisted, and we managed somehow or other to distribute the money. those who received it were mostly well-dressed, and we had not far to go to find them: they were all in the tavern. the one-armed boy came in top-boots and a red shirt and waistcoat. thus ended all my benevolent enterprises; and i left for the country vexed with everyone, as it always happens when one does something foolish and harmful. nothing came of it all, except the train of thoughts and feelings which it called forth in me, which not only did not cease, but doubly agitated my mind. chapter xii what did it all mean? i had lived in the country and had entered into relations with the country-poor. it is not out of false modesty, but that i may state the truth, which is necessary in order to understand the run of all my thoughts and feelings, that i must say that in the country i had done perhaps but little for the poor, the help which had been required of me was so small; but even the little i had done had been useful, and had formed round me an atmosphere of love and sympathy with my fellow-creatures, in the midst of whom it might yet be possible for me to quiet the gnawing of my conscience as to the unlawfulness of my life of luxury. on going to the city i had hoped for the same happy relations with the poor, but here things were upon quite another footing. in the city, poverty was at once less truthful, more exacting, and more bitter, than in the country. it was chiefly because there was so much more of it accumulated together, that it produced upon me a most harrowing impression. what i experienced at liapin's house made my own luxurious life seem monstrously evil. i could not doubt the sincerity and strength of this conviction; yet, notwithstanding this, i was quite incapable of carrying out a revolution which demanded an entire change in my mode of life: i was frightened at the prospect, and so i resorted to compromises. i accepted what i was told by everyone, and what has been said by everybody since the world began,--that riches and luxury are in themselves no evil, that they are given by god, and that whilst continuing to live luxuriously it is possible to help those in need. i believed this and wanted to do so. and i wrote an article in which i called upon all rich people to help. these all admitted themselves morally obliged to agree with me, but evidently did not wish to do or give anything for the poor, or could not do so. i then began visiting, and discovered what i had in no way expected to see. on the one hand, i saw in these dens (as i had at first called them) men whom it was impossible for me to help, because they were working-men, accustomed to labour and privation, and therefore having a much firmer hold on life than i had. on the other hand, i saw miserable men whom i could not aid because they were just such as i was myself. the majority of the poor whom i saw were wretched, merely because they had lost the capacity, desire, and habit of earning their bread; in other words, their misery consisted in the fact that they were just like myself. whereas, of poor people to whom it was possible to give immediate assistance--those suffering from illness, cold, and hunger,--i found none, except the starving agafia; and i became persuaded that, being so far removed from the life of those whom i wished to succour, it was almost impossible to find such need as i sought, because all real need was attended to by those amongst whom these unhappy creatures lived: and my principal conviction now was, that, with money, i could never reform that life of misery which these people led. i was persuaded of this: yet a feeling of shame to leave off all i had begun, and self-deception as to my own virtues, made me continue my plan for some time longer till it died a natural death; thus, only with great difficulty and the help of iván fedotitch, i managed to distribute in the tavern at rzhanoff's house the thirty-seven rubles which i considered were not my own. of course i might have continued this style of thing and have transformed it into a kind of charity; and, by importuning those who promised to give me money, i might have obtained and distributed more, thus comforting myself with the idea of my own excellence: but i became convinced on the one hand that we rich people do not wish,--and are also unable,--to distribute to the poor a portion of our superfluities (we have so many wants ourselves), and that money should not be given to any one if we really wish to do good, instead of merely distributing it at random as i had done in the rzhanoff tavern. so i dropped the affair entirely and in despair quitted moscow for my own village. i intended on returning home to write a pamphlet on my experience, and to state why my project had not succeeded. i wanted to justify myself from the imputations which resulted from my article on the census; i wanted also to denounce society and its heartless indifference; and i desired to point out the causes of this town misery, and the necessity for endeavouring to remedy it, as well as the means which i thought were requisite for this purpose. i began even then to write, and fancied i had many very important facts to communicate. but in vain did i rack my brain: i could not manage it, notwithstanding the super-abundance of material at my command, because of the irritation under which i wrote, and because i had not yet learned by experience what was necessary to grasp the question rightly; still more because i had not become fully conscious of the cause of it all,--a very simple cause, deep-rooted in myself. so the pamphlet was not finished at the commencement of the present year ( - ). in the matter of moral law we witness a strange phenomenon to which men pay too little attention. if i speak to an unlearned man about geology, astronomy, history, natural philosophy, or mathematics, he receives the information as quite new to him, and never says to me, "there is nothing new in what you tell me; every one knows it, and i have known it for a long time." but tell a man one of the highest moral truths in the simplest manner, in such a way as it has never been before formulated, and every ordinary man, particularly one who does not take any interest in moral questions, and, above all, one who dislikes them, is sure to say, "who does not know that? it has been always known and expressed." and he really believes this. only those who can appreciate moral truths know how to value their elucidation and simplification by a long and laborious process, or can prize the transition from a proposition or desire at first vaguely understood to a firm and determined expression calling for a corresponding change of conduct. we are all accustomed to consider moral doctrine to be a very insipid and dull affair in which there can be nothing new or interesting; whereas, in reality, human life, with all its complicated and varied actions which seem to have no connection with morals,--political activity, activity in the sciences, in the arts, and in commerce,--has no other object than to elucidate moral truths more and more, and to confirm, simplify, and make them accessible to all. i recollect once while walking in a street in moscow i saw a man come out and examine the flag-stones attentively; then, choosing one of them, he sat down by it and began to scrape and rub it vigorously. "what is he doing with the pavement?" i wondered; and, having come up close to him, i discovered he was a young man from a butcher's shop, and was sharpening his knife on the flag-stone. he was not thinking about the stones when examining them, and still less while doing his work; he was merely sharpening his knife. it was necessary for him to do so in order to cut the meat, but to me it seemed that he was doing something to the pavement. in the same way mankind seems to be occupied with commerce, treaties, wars, sciences, arts; and yet for them one thing only is important, and they do only that,--they are elucidating those moral laws by which they live. moral laws are already in existence, and mankind has been and is merely re-discovering them: this elucidation appears to be unimportant and imperceptible to one who has no need of moral law, and who does not desire to live by it. yet this is not only the chief but is the sole business of all men. the elucidation is imperceptible in the same way as the difference between a sharp knife and a blunt one is imperceptible. a knife remains a knife; and one who has not to cut anything with it will not notice its edge: but for one who understands that all his life depends more or less upon whether his knife is blunt or sharp, every improvement in sharpening it is important; and such a man knows that there must be no limit to this improvement, and that the knife is only really a knife when it is sharp, and when it cuts what it has to cut. the conviction of this truth flashed upon me when i began to write my pamphlet. previously it seemed to me that i knew everything about my subject, that i had a thorough understanding of everything connected with those questions which had been awakened in me by the impressions made in liapin's house and during the census; but when i tried to sum them up, and to put them on paper, it turned out that the knife would not cut, and had to be sharpened: so it is only now after three years that i feel my knife is sharp enough for me to cut out what i want. it is not that i have learned new things: my thoughts are still the same; but they were blunt formerly; they kept diverging in every direction; there was no edge to them; nor was anything brought, as it is now, to one central point, to one most simple and plain conclusion. chapter xiii i recollect that during the whole time of my unsuccessful endeavours to help the unfortunate inhabitants of moscow, i felt i was like a man trying to help others out of a bog, who was all the time stuck fast in it himself. every effort made me feel the instability of the ground upon which i was standing. i felt that i myself was in this bog, but the acknowledgement did not help me to look more closely under my feet to find out the nature of the ground on which i stood: i kept looking for some external means to remedy the evil. i felt my life was a bad one, and that people ought not to live so; yet i did not come to the most natural and obvious conclusion: that i must first reform my own mode of life before i could have any conception of how to reform others. and so i began at the wrong end, as it were. i was living in town, and wished to improve the lives of the men there; but i soon became convinced that i had no power to do so; and then i began to ponder over the _nature_ of town life and town misery. i said to myself over and over again, "what is this town life and town misery? and why, while living in town, am i unable to help the town poor?" the only reply i found was, that i was powerless to do anything for them, first, because there were too many collected together in one place; secondly, because none of them were at all like those in the country. and again i asked myself, "why are there so many here, and in what do they differ from the country poor?" to both these questions the answer was the same. the poor are numerous in towns because all who have nothing to subsist on in the country are collected there round the rich; and their peculiarity is due to the fact that they have all come into the towns from the country to get a living. (if there are any town poor born there, whose fathers and grandfathers were town born, these in their turn originally came there to get a living.) but what are we to understand by the expression, "getting a living in town"? there is something strange in the expression; it sounds like a joke when we reflect on its meaning. how is it that from the country,--i.e., from places where there are woods, meadows, corn and cattle, where the earth yields the treasures of fertility--men come away, to get a living in a place where there are none of these advantages, but only stones and dust? what then, do the words, "getting a living in town," mean? such a phrase is constantly used, both by the employed and their employers, as if it were quite clear and intelligible. i remember now all the hundreds and thousands of town people living well or ill with whom i had spoken about their object in coming here; and all of them, without exception, told me they had quitted their villages "to get a living"; that "moscow neither sows nor reaps, yet lives in wealth"; that in moscow there is abundance of everything; and that, therefore, in moscow one may get the money which is needed in the country for corn, cottages, horses, and the other essentials of life. but, in fact, the country is the source of all wealth; there, only, are real riches,--corn, woods, horses, and everything necessary. why go to towns, then, to get what is to be had in the country? and why should people carry away from the country into the towns the things that are necessary for country people,--flour, oats, horses, and cattle? hundreds of times i have spoken thus with peasants who live in towns; and from my talks with them, and from my own observations, it became clear to me that the accumulation of country people in our cities is partly _necessary_, because they could not otherwise earn their livelihood, and partly voluntary, because they are attracted by the temptations of a town life. it is true that the circumstances of a peasant are such, that, in order to satisfy the pecuniary demands made on him in his village, he cannot do otherwise than sell that corn and cattle which he knows very well will be necessary for himself; and he is compelled, whether he will or not, to go to town to earn back what was his own. but it is also true that he is attracted to town by the charms of a comparatively easy way of getting money, and by the luxury of life there; and, under the pretext of earning his living, he goes there in order to have easier work and better food, to drink tea three times a day, to dress himself smartly, and even to get drunk and lead a dissolute life. the cause is a simple one; for property passing from the hands of the agriculturalists into those of non-agriculturalists accumulates in towns. observe towards autumn how much wealth is gathered together in the villages. then come the demands of taxes, rents, recruiting; then the temptations of vodka, marriages, feasts, peddlers, and all sorts of other snares; so that in one way or other, this property, all in its various forms (sheep, calves, cows, horses, pigs, poultry, eggs, butter, hemp, flax, rye, oats, buckwheat, peas, hemp-seed, and flax-seed), passes into the hands of strangers, and is taken first to provincial towns, and thence to the capitals. a villager is compelled to dispose of all these things in order to satisfy the demands made upon him and the temptations offered him; and, having thus parted with his goods, he is left in want, and must follow where his wealth has been taken; and there he tries to earn back the money which is necessary for his most urgent needs at home; and so, being partly carried away by these temptations, he himself, along with others, makes use of the accumulated wealth. everywhere throughout russia, and, i think, not only in russia but all over the world, the same thing happens. the wealth of the country people who produce it passes into the hands of tradespeople, landowners, government officials, manufacturers. the men who receive this wealth want to enjoy it, and to enjoy it fully they must be in town. in the country, in the first place, it is difficult for the rich to gratify all their desires, owing to the inhabitants being scattered: you do not find there the shops, banks, restaurants, theatres, and various kinds of public amusements. secondly, another of the chief pleasures procured by wealth,--vanity, the desire to astonish, to make a display before others,--cannot be gratified in the country for the same reason: its inhabitants being too scattered. there is no one in the country to appreciate luxury; there is no one to astonish. there you may have what you like to embellish your dwelling,--pictures, bronze statues, all sorts of carriages, and fine toilets,--but there is nobody to look at them or to envy you. the peasants do not understand the value of all this, and cannot make head or tail of it. thirdly, luxury in the country is even disagreeable to a man who has a conscience, and is an anxiety to a timid person. one feels uneasy or ashamed at taking a milk bath, or in feeding puppies with milk, when there are children close by needing it; one feels the same in building pavilions and gardens among a people who live in cottages covered with stable litter, and who have no wood to burn. there is no one in the village to prevent the stupid, uneducated peasants from spoiling our comforts. therefore, rich people gather together in towns, and settle near those who, in similar positions, have similar desires. in towns, the enjoyment of luxuries is carefully protected by a numerous police. the principal inhabitants of towns are government officials, round whom all the rich people, master-workmen, and artisans have settled. there, a rich man has only to think about a thing, and he can get it. it is also more agreeable for him to live there, because he can gratify his vanity; there are people with whom he may try to compete in luxury, whom he may astonish or eclipse. but it is especially pleasant for a wealthy man to live in town, because, where his country life was uncomfortable, and even somewhat incongruous because of his luxury, in town, on the contrary, it would be uncomfortable for him _not_ to live splendidly, as his equals in wealth do. what seemed out of place there, appears indispensable here. rich people collect together in towns, and, under the protection of the authorities, enjoy peacefully all that has been brought there by the villagers. a countryman often cannot help going to town, where a ceaseless round of feasting is going on, where what has been procured from the peasants is being spent. he comes into the town to feed on those crumbs which fall from the tables of the rich; and partly by observing the careless, luxurious, and generally approved mode of living of these men, he begins to desire to order his own affairs in such a manner that he, too, may be able to work less and avail himself more of the labour of others. at last he decides to settle down in the neighbourhood of the wealthy, trying by every means in his power to get back from them what is necessary for him, and submitting to all the conditions which the rich enforce. these country people assist in gratifying all the fancies of the wealthy: they serve them in public baths, in taverns, as coachmen, and as prostitutes. they manufacture carriages, make toys and dresses, and little by little learn from their wealthy neighbours how to live like them, not by real labour, but by all sorts of tricks, squeezing out from others the money they have collected,--and so they become depraved, and are ruined. it is then this same population, depraved by the wealth of towns, which forms that city misery which i wished to relieve, but could not. indeed, if one only reflects on the condition of these country folk coming to town to earn money to buy bread or to pay taxes, and who see everywhere thousands of rubles squandered foolishly, and hundreds very easily earned while they have to earn their pence by the hardest of labour, one cannot but be astonished that there are still many such people at work, and that they do not all have recourse to a more easy way of getting money,--trading, begging, vice, cheating, and even robbery. it is only we who join in the ceaseless orgie going on in the towns who can get so accustomed to our own mode of life that it seems quite natural to us that one fine gentleman should occupy five large rooms heated with sufficient firewood to enable twenty families to warm their homes and cook their food with. to drive a short distance, we employ two thoroughbreds and two men; we cover our inlaid floors with carpets, and spend five or ten thousand rubles on a ball, or even twenty-five for a christmas-tree, and so on. yet a man who needs ten rubles to buy bread for his family, or from whom his last sheep has been taken to meet a tax of seven rubles which he cannot save by the hardest of labour, cannot get accustomed to all this which we imagine must seem quite natural to the poor. there are even people _naïve_ enough to say that the poor are thankful to us because we feed them by living so luxuriously! but poor people do not lose their reasoning powers because they are poor: they reason quite in the same manner as we do. when we have heard that some one has lost a fortune at cards, or squandered ten or twenty thousand rubles, the first thought that comes into our minds is: "how stupid and bad this man must be to have parted with such a large sum without any equivalent; and how well _i_ could have employed this money for some building i have long wanted to get done, or for the improvement of my estate," and so on. the poor reason in the same way on seeing how foolishly we waste our wealth; all the more forcibly, because this money is needed, not to satisfy their _whims_, but for the chief necessaries of life, of which they are in want. we are greatly mistaken in thinking that the poor, while able to reason thus, still look on unconcernedly at the luxury around them. they have never acknowledged, and never will, that it is right for one man to be always idling, and for another to be continually working. at first they are astonished and offended; then, looking closer into the question, they see that this state of things is acknowledged to be legal, and they themselves try to get rid of work, and to take part in the feasting. some succeed in so doing, and acquire similar wanton habits; others, little by little, approach such a condition; others break down before they reach their object, and, having lost the habit of working, fill the night-houses and the haunts of vice. the year before last we took from the village a young peasant to be our butler's assistant. he could not agree with the footman, and was sent away; he entered the service of a merchant, pleased his masters, and now wears a watch and chain, and has smart boots. in his place we took another peasant, a married man. he turned out a drunkard, and lost money. we took a third: he began to drink, and, having drunk all he had, was for a long time in distress in a night-lodging-house. our old cook took to drinking in the town, and fell ill. last year a footman who used formerly to have fits of drunkenness, but who, while living in the village kept himself from it for five years, came to live in moscow without his wife (who used to keep him in order), began again to drink, and ruined himself. a young boy of our village is living as butler's assistant at my brother's. his grandfather, a blind old man, came to me while i was living in the country, and asked me to persuade this grandson to send ten rubles for taxes, because, unless this were done, the cow would have to be sold. "he keeps telling me that he has to dress himself respectably," said the old man. "he got himself long boots, and that ought to be enough; but i actually believe he would like to buy a watch!" in these words the grandfather expressed what he felt was the utmost degree of extravagance. and this was really so; for the old man could not afford a drop of oil for his food during the whole of lent, and his wood was spoilt because he had not the ruble and a quarter necessary for cutting it up. but the old man's irony turned out to be reality. his grandson came to me dressed in a fine black overcoat, and in long boots for which he had paid eight rubles. recently he had got ten rubles from my brother, and spent them on his boots. and my children, who have known the boy from his infancy, told me that he really considers it necessary to buy a watch. he is a very good boy, but he considers that he will be laughed at for not having one. this year a housemaid, eighteen years of age, formed an intimacy with the coachman, and was sent away. our old nurse, to whom i related the case, reminded me of a girl whom i had quite forgotten. ten years ago, during a short stay in moscow, she formed an intimacy with a footman. she also was sent away, and drifted at last into a house of ill-fame, and died in a hospital before she was twenty years of age. we have only to look around us to become alarmed by the infection which (to say nothing of manufactories and workshops existing only to gratify our luxury) we directly, by our luxurious town life, spread among those very people whom we desire afterwards to help. thus, having got at the root of that town misery which i was not able to alleviate, i saw that its first cause is in our taking from the villagers their necessaries and carrying them to town. the second cause is, that in those towns we avail ourselves of what we have gathered from the country, and, by our foolish luxury, tempt and deprave the peasants who follow us there in order to get back something of what we have taken from them in the country. chapter xiv from another point of view than the one stated, i also came to the same conclusion. recollecting my connection with the town-poor during this period, i saw that one cause which prevented me from helping them was their insincerity and falseness. they all considered me, not as an individual but merely as a means to an end. i felt i could not become intimate with them; i thought i did not perhaps understand how to do so; but without truthfulness, no help was possible. how can one help a man who does not tell all his circumstances? formerly i accused the poor of this (it is so natural to accuse others), but one word spoken by a remarkable man, sutaief, who was then on a visit at my house, cleared up the difficulty, and showed me wherein lay the cause of my failure. i remember that even then what he said made a deep impression on me; but i did not understand its full meaning until afterwards. it happened that while in the full ardour of my self-deception i was at my sister's house, sutaief being also there; and my sister was questioning me about my work. i was relating it to her; and, as is always the case when one does not fully believe in one's own enterprises, i related with great enthusiasm, ardour, and at full length, all i had been doing, and all the possible results. i was telling her how we should keep our eyes open to what went on in moscow; how we should take care of orphans and old people; how we should afford means for impoverished villagers to return to their homes, and pave the way to reform the depraved. i explained, that, if we succeeded in our undertaking, there would not be in moscow a single poor man who could not find help. my sister sympathized with me; and while speaking, i kept looking now and then at sutaief; knowing his christian life, and the importance attached by him to works of charity, i expected sympathy from him, and i spoke so that he might understand me; for, though i was addressing my sister, yet my conversation was really more directed to him. he sat immovable, dressed in his black-tanned-sheepskin coat, which he, like other peasants, wore in-doors as well as out. it seemed that he was not listening to us, but was thinking about something else. his small eyes gave no responding gleam, but seemed to be turned inwards. having spoken out to my own satisfaction, i turned to him and asked him what he thought about it. "the whole thing is worthless," he replied. "why?" "the plan is an empty one, and no good will come of it," he repeated with conviction. "but why will nothing come of it? why is it a useless business, if we help thousands, or even hundreds, of unhappy ones? is it a bad thing, according to the gospel, to clothe the naked, or to feed the hungry?" "i know, i know; but what you are doing is not that. is it possible to help thus? you are walking in the street; somebody asks you for a few kopeks; you give them to him. is that charity? do him some spiritual good; teach him. what you give him merely says, 'leave me alone.'" "no; but that is not what we were speaking of: we wish to become acquainted with the wants, and then to help by money and by deeds. we will try to find for the poor people some work to do." "that would be no way of helping them." "how then? must they be left to die of starvation and cold?" "why left to die? how many are there of them?" "how many?" said i, thinking that he took the matter so lightly from not knowing the great number of these men; "you are not aware, i dare say, that there are in moscow about twenty thousand cold and hungry. and then, think of those in st. petersburg and other towns!" he smiled. "twenty thousand! and how many households are there in russia alone? would they amount to a million?" "well; but what of that?" "what of that?" said he, with animation, and his eyes sparkled. "let us unite them with ourselves; i am not rich myself, but will at once take two of them. here is a fellow you settled in your kitchen; i asked him to go with me, but he refused. if there were ten times as many, we should take them all into our families. you one, i another. we shall work together; he will see how i work; he will learn how to live, and we shall eat out of one bowl, at one table; and they will hear a good word from me, and from you also. that is charity; but all this plan of yours is no good." these plain words made an impression upon me. i could not help recognizing that they were true. but it seemed to me then, that, notwithstanding the justice of what he said, my proposed plan might perhaps be useful also. but the longer i was occupied with this affair; and the closer my intercourse with the poor, the oftener i recollected these words and the greater meaning i found in them. i, indeed, go in an expensive fur coat, or drive in my own carriage to a man who is in want of boots: he sees my house which costs two hundred rubles a month, or he notices that i give away, without thinking, five rubles, only because of a caprice; he is then aware that if i give away rubles in such a manner, it is because i have accumulated so many that i have a lot to spare which i am not only never in the habit of giving to any one, but which i have taken away from others without compunction. what can he see in me but one of those persons who have become possessed of something which should belong to him? and what other feelings can he have towards me than the desire to get back as many as possible of these rubles which were taken by me from him and from others? i should like to become intimate with him, and complain that he is not sincere. but i am afraid to sit down upon his bed for fear of lice or some infectious disease; i am also afraid to let him come into my room; and when he comes to me half-dressed, he has to wait, if fortunate, in the entrance-hall, but oftener in the cold porch. and then i say that it is all his fault that i cannot become intimate with him, and that he is not sincere. let the most hard-hearted man sit down to dine upon five courses among hungry people who have little or nothing to eat except dry bread, and no one could have the heart to eat while these hungry people are around him licking their lips. therefore, before one can eat well when living among half-starved men, the first thing necessary is to hide ourselves from them, and to eat so that they may not see us. this is the very thing we do in the first place. i looked into our own mode of life without prejudice, and became aware that it was not by chance that closer intercourse with the poor is difficult for us, but that we ourselves are intentionally ordering our lives in such a way as to make this intercourse impossible. and not only this; but, on looking at our lives, or at the lives of rich people from without, i saw that all that is considered as the _happiness_ of these lives consists in being separated as much as possible from the poor, or is in some way or other connected with this desired separation. in fact, the entire aim of our lives, beginning with food, dress, dwelling and cleanliness, and ending with our education, consists in placing a gulf between us and them. and we spend nine-tenths of our wealth to erect impassable barriers in order to establish this distinction and separation. the first thing a man who has grown rich does is to leave off eating with others out of one bowl. he arranges plates for himself and his family, and separates himself from the kitchen and the servants. he feeds his servants well so that their mouths may not water, and he dines alone. but eating alone is dull. he invents whatever he can to improve his food, embellish his table; and the very manner of taking food, as at dinner-parties, becomes a matter of vanity and pride. his manner of eating his food is a means of separating himself from other people. for a rich man it is out of the question to invite a poor person to his table. one must know how to hand a lady to table, how to bow, how to sit, to eat, to use a finger-bowl, all of which the rich alone know how to do. the same holds good with dress. if a rich man wore ordinary dress,--a jacket, a fur coat, felt shoes, leather boots, an undercoat, trousers, a shirt,--he would require very little to cover his body and protect it from cold; and, having two fur coats, he could not help giving one away to somebody who had none. but the wealthy man begins with wearing clothes which consist of many separate parts, of use only on particular occasions, and therefore of no use to a poor man. the man of fashion must have evening dress-coats, waistcoats, frock-coats, patent-leather shoes; his wife must have bodices, and dresses which, according to fashion, are made of many parts, high-heeled shoes, hunting and travelling jackets, and so on. all these articles can be useful only to people in a condition far removed from poverty. and thus dressing also becomes a means of isolation. fashions make their appearance, and are among the chief things which separate the rich man from the poor one. the same thing shows itself more plainly still in our dwellings. in order that one person may occupy ten rooms we must manage so that he may not be seen by the people who are living by tens in one room. the richer a man is, the more difficult it is to get at him; the more footmen there are between him and people not rich, the more impossible it is for him to receive a poor guest, to let him walk on his carpets and sit on his satin-covered chairs. the same thing happens in travelling. a peasant who drives in a cart or on a carrier's sledge must be very hard-hearted if he refuses to give a pedestrian a lift; he has enough room, and can do it. but the richer the carriage is, the more impossible it is to put any one in it besides the owner. some of the most elegant carriages are so narrow as to be termed "_egotists_." the same thing applies to all the modes of living expressed by the word "cleanliness." cleanliness! who does not know human beings, especially women, who make a great virtue of cleanliness? who does not know the various phrases of this cleanliness, which have no limit whatever when it is procured by the labour of others? who among self-made men has not experienced in his own person the pains with which he carefully accustomed himself to this cleanliness, which illustrates the saying, "white hands are fond of another's labour"? to-day cleanliness consists in changing one's shirt daily; to-morrow it will be changed twice a day. at first, one has to wash one's hands and neck every day, then one will have to wash one's feet every day, and afterwards it will be the whole body, and in peculiar methods. a clean table-cloth serves for two days, then it is changed every day, and afterwards two table-cloths a day are used. to-day the footman is required to have clean hands; to-morrow he must wear gloves, and clean gloves, and he must hand the letters on a clean tray. there are no limits to this cleanliness, which is of no other use to anyone except to separate us, and to make our intercourse with others impossible while the cleanliness is obtained through the labour of others. not only so, but when i had deeply reflected upon this, i came to the conclusion that what we term education is a similar thing. language cannot deceive: it gives the right name to everything. the common people call education fashionable dress, smart conversation, white hands, and a certain degree of cleanliness. of such a man they say, when distinguishing him from others, that he is an educated man. in a little higher circle men denote by education the same things, but add playing on the piano, the knowledge of french, good russian spelling, and still greater cleanliness. in the still higher circle education consists of all this, with the addition of english, and a diploma from a high educational establishment, and a still greater degree of cleanliness. but in all these shades, education is in substance quite the same. it consists in those forms and various kinds of information which separate a man from his fellow-creatures. its object is the same as that of cleanliness: to separate us from the crowd, in order that they, hungry and cold, may not see how we feast. but it is impossible to hide ourselves, and our efforts are seen through. thus i became aware that the reason why it was impossible for us rich men to help the town poor was nothing more or less than the impossibility of our having closer intercourse with them, and that this barrier we ourselves create by our whole life and by all the uses we make of our wealth. i became persuaded that between us rich men and the poor there stood, erected by ourselves, a barrier of cleanliness and education which arose out of our wealth; and that, in order to be able to help them, we have first to break down this barrier and to render possible the realization of the means suggested by sutaief: to take the poor into our respective homes. and so, as i have already said at the beginning of this chapter, i came to the same conclusion from a different point of view from that to which the train of thought about town misery had led me; viz., the cause of it all lay in our wealth. chapter xv i began again to analyze the matter from a third and purely personal point of view. among the phenomena which particularly impressed me during my benevolent activity, there was one,--a very strange one,--which i could not understand for a long time. whenever i happened, in the street or at home, to give a poor person a trifling sum without entering into conversation with him, i saw on his face, or imagined i saw, an expression of pleasure and gratitude, and i myself experienced an agreeable feeling at this form of charity. i saw that i had done what was expected of me. but when i stopped and began to question the man about his past and present life, entering more or less into particulars, i felt it was impossible to give him or kopeks; and i always began to finger the money in my purse, and, not knowing how much to give, i always gave more under these circumstances; but, nevertheless, i saw that the poor man went away from me dissatisfied. when i entered into still closer intercourse with him, my doubts as to how much i should give increased; and, no matter what i gave, the recipient seemed more and more gloomy and dissatisfied. as a general rule, it always happens that if, upon nearer acquaintance with the poor man i gave him three rubles or even more, i always saw gloominess, dissatisfaction, even anger depicted on his face; and sometimes, after having received from me ten rubles, he has left me without even thanking me, as if i had offended him. in such cases i was always uncomfortable and ashamed, and felt myself guilty. when i watched the poor person during weeks, months, or years, helped him, expressed my views, and became intimate with him, then our intercourse became a torment, and i saw that the man despised me. and i felt that he was right in doing so. when in the street a beggar asks me, along with other passers-by, for three kopeks, and i give it him, then, in his estimation, i am a kind and good man who gives "one of the threads which go to make the shirt of a naked one": he expects nothing more than a thread, and, if i give it, he sincerely blesses me. but if i stop and speak to him as man to man, show him that i wish to be more than a mere passer-by, and, if, as it often happened, he shed tears in relating his misfortune, then he sees in me not merely a chance helper, but that which i wish him to see,--a kind man. if i am a kind man, my kindness cannot stop at twenty kopeks, or at ten rubles, or ten thousand. one cannot be a slightly kind man. let us suppose that i give him much; that i put him straight, dress him, and set him on his legs so that he can help himself; but, from some reason or other, either from an accident or his own weakness, he again loses the great-coat and clothing and money i gave him, he is again hungry and cold, and he again comes to me, why should i refuse him assistance? for if the cause of my benevolent activity was merely the attainment of some definite, material object, such as giving him so many rubles or a certain great-coat, then, having given them i could be easy in my mind; but the cause of my activity was not this: the cause of it was my desire to be a kind man--i.e., to see myself in everybody else. everyone understands kindness in this way, and not otherwise. therefore if such a man should spend in drink all you gave him twenty times over, and be again hungry and cold, then, if you are a benevolent man, you cannot help giving him more money, you can never leave off doing so while you have more than he has; but if you draw back, you show that all you did before was done not because you are benevolent, but because you wish to appear so to others and to him. and it was because i had to back out of such cases, and to cease to give, and thus to disown the good, that i felt a painful sense of shame. what was this feeling, then? i had experienced it in liapin's house and in the country, and when i happened to give money or anything else to the poor, and in my adventures among the town people. one case which occurred lately reminded me of it forcibly, and led me to discover its cause. it happened in the country. i wanted twenty kopeks to give to a pilgrim. i sent my son to borrow it from somebody. he brought it to the man, and told me that he had borrowed it from the cook. some days after, other pilgrims came, and i was again in need of twenty kopeks. i had a ruble. i recollected what i owed the cook, went into the kitchen, hoping that he would have some more coppers. i said,-- "i owe you twenty kopeks: here is a ruble." i had not yet done speaking when the cook called to his wife from the adjoining room: "parasha, take it," he said. thinking she had understood what i wanted, i gave her the ruble. i must tell you that the cook had been living at our house about a week, and i had seen his wife, but had never spoken to her. i merely wished to tell her to give me the change, when she briskly bowed herself over my hand and was about to kiss it, evidently thinking i was giving her the ruble. i stammered out something and left the kitchen. i felt ashamed, painfully ashamed, as i had not felt for a long time. i actually trembled, and felt that i was making a wry face; and, groaning with shame, i ran away from the kitchen. this feeling, which i fancied i had not deserved, and which came over me quite unexpectedly, impressed me particularly, because it was so long since i had felt anything like it and also because i fancied that i, an old man, had been living in a way i had no reason to be ashamed of. this surprised me greatly. i related the case to my family, to my acquaintances, and they all agreed that they also would have felt the same. and i began to reflect: why is it that i felt so? the answer came from a case which had formerly occurred to me in moscow. i reflected upon this case, and i understood the shame which i felt concerning the incident with the cook's wife, and all the sensations of shame i had experienced during my charitable activity in moscow, and which i always feel when i happen to give anything beyond trifling alms to beggars and pilgrims, which i am accustomed to give, and which i consider not as charity, but as politeness and good breeding. if a man asks you for a light, you must light a match if you have it. if a man begs for three or twenty kopeks, or a few rubles, you must give if you have them. it is a question of politeness, not of charity. the following is the case i referred to. i have already spoken about the two peasants with whom i sawed wood three years ago. one saturday evening, in the twilight, i was walking with them back to town. they were going to their master to receive their wages. on crossing the dragomilor bridge we met an old man. he begged, and i gave him twenty kopeks. i gave, thinking what a good impression my alms would make upon simon, with whom i had been speaking on religious questions. simon, the peasant from vladímir, who had a wife and two children in moscow, also stopped, turned up the lappet of his kaftan, and took out his purse; and, after having looked over his money, he picked out a three-kopek piece, gave it to the old man, and asked for two kopeks back. the old man showed him in his hand two three-kopek pieces and a single kopek. simon looked at it, was about to take one kopek, but, changing his mind, took off his cap, crossed himself, and went away, leaving the old man the three-kopek piece. i was acquainted with all simon's pecuniary circumstances. he had neither house nor other property. when he gave the old man the three kopeks, he possessed six rubles and fifty kopeks, which he had been saving up, and this was all the capital he had. my property amounted to about six hundred thousand rubles. i had a wife and children, so also had simon. he was younger than i, and had not so many children; but his children were young, and two of mine were grown-up men, old enough to work, so that our circumstances, independently of our property, were alike, though even in this respect i was better off than he. he gave three kopeks, i gave twenty. what was, then, the difference in our gifts? what should i have given in order to do as he had done? he had six hundred kopeks; out of these he gave one, and then another two. i had six hundred thousand rubles. in order to give as much as simon gave, i ought to have given three thousand rubles, and asked the man to give me back two thousand; and, in the event of his not having change, to leave him these two also, cross myself, and go away calmly, conversing about how people live in the manufactories, and what is the price of liver in the smolensk market. i thought about it at the time, but it was long before i was able to draw from this case the conclusion which inevitably follows from it. this conclusion appears to be so uncommon and strange, notwithstanding its mathematical accuracy, that it requires time to get accustomed to it. one is inclined to think there is some mistake, but there is none. it is only the terrible darkness of prejudice in which we live. this conclusion, when i arrived at it and recognized its inevitableness, explained to me the nature of my feelings of shame in the presence of the cook's wife, and before all the poor to whom i gave and still give money. indeed, what is that money which i give to the poor, and which the cook's wife thought i was giving her? in the majority of cases it forms such a minute part of my income that it cannot be expressed in a fraction comprehensible to simon or to a cook's wife,--it is in most cases a millionth part or thereabout. i give so little that my gift is not, and cannot be, a sacrifice to me: it is only a something with which i amuse myself when and how it pleases me. and this was indeed how my cook's wife had understood me. if i gave a stranger in the street a ruble or twenty kopeks, why should i not give her also a ruble? to her, such a distribution of money is the same thing as a gentleman throwing gingerbread nuts into a crowd. it is the amusement of people who possess much "fool's money." i was ashamed, because the mistake of the cook's wife showed me plainly what ideas she and all poor people must have of me. "he is throwing away 'fool's money'"; that is, money not earned by him. and, indeed, what is my money, and how did i come by it? one part of it i collected in the shape of rent for my land, which i had inherited from my father. the peasant sold his last sheep or cow in order to pay it. another part of my money i received from the books i had written. if my books are harmful, and yet sell, they can only do so by some seductive attraction, and the money which i receive for them is badly earned money; but if my books are useful, the thing is still worse. i do not give them to people, but say, "give me so many rubles, and i will sell them to you." as in the former case a peasant sells his last sheep, here a poor student or a teacher does it: each poor person who buys denies himself some necessary thing in order to give me this money. and now that i have gathered much of such money what am i to do with it? i take it to town, give it to the poor only when they satisfy all my fancies and come to town to clean pavements, lamps, or boots, to work for me in the factories, and so on. and with this money i draw from them all i can. i try to give them as little as i can and take from them as much as possible. now, quite unexpectedly, i begin to share all this said money with these same poor persons for nothing; but not with everyone, only as fancy prompts me. and why should not every poor man expect that his turn might come to-day to be one of those with whom i amuse myself by giving them my "fool's money"? so everyone regards me as the cook's wife did. and i had gone about with the notion that this was charity,--this taking away thousands with one hand, and with the other throwing kopeks to those i select! no wonder i was ashamed. but before i can begin to do good i must leave off the evil and put myself in a position in which i should cease to cause it. but all my course of life is evil. if i were to give away a hundred thousand, i should not yet have put myself in a condition in which i could do good, because i have still five hundred thousand left. it is only when i possess nothing at all that i shall be able to do a little good; such as, for instance, the poor prostitute did who nursed a sick woman and her child for three days. yet this seemed to me to be but so little! and _i_ ventured to think of doing good! one thing only was true, which i at first felt on seeing the hungry and cold people outside liapin's house,--that _i_ was guilty of that; and that to live as i did was impossible, utterly impossible. what shall we do then? if somebody still needs an answer to this question, i will, by god's permission, give one, in detail. chapter xvi it was hard for me to own this; but when i had got so far i was terrified at the delusion in which i had been living. i had been head over ears in the mud myself, and yet i had been trying to drag others out of it. what is it that i really want? i want to do good; i want to contrive so that no human beings shall be hungry and cold, and that men may live as it is proper for them to live. i desire this; and i see that in consequence of all sorts of violence, extortions, and various expedients in which i too take part, the working people are deprived of the necessary things, and the non-working community, to whom i also belong, monopolize the labour of others. i see that this use of other people's labour is distributed thus: that the more cunning and complicated the devices employed by the man himself (or by those from whom he has inherited his property), the more largely he employs the labours of other people, and the less he works himself. first come the millionaires; then the wealthy bankers, merchants, land-owners, government officials; then the smaller bankers, merchants, government officials and land-owners, to whom i belong too; then shopmen, publicans, usurers, police sergeants and inspectors, teachers, sacristans, clerks; then, again, house-porters, footmen, coachmen, water-carters, cabmen, pedlers; and then, last of all, the workmen, factory hands and peasants, the number of this class in proportion to the former being as ten to one. i see that the lives of nine-tenths of the working people essentially require exertion and labour, like every other natural mode of living; but that, in consequence of the devices by which the necessaries of life are taken away from these people, their lives become every year more difficult, and more beset with privations; and our lives, the lives of the non-labouring community, owing to the co-operation of sciences and arts which have this very end in view, become every year more sumptuous, more attractive and secure. i see that in our days the life of a labouring man, and especially the lives of the old people, women, and children of the working-classes, are quite worn away by increased labour out of proportion to their nourishment, and that even the very first necessaries of life are not secured for them. i see that side by side with these the lives of the non-labouring class, to which i belong, are each year more and more filled up with superfluities and luxury, and are becoming continually more secure. the lives of the wealthy have reached that degree of security of which in olden times men only dreamed in fairy-tales, to the condition of the owner of the magic purse with the "inexhaustible ruble"; to a state where a man not only is entirely free from the law of labour for the sustenance of his life, but has the possibility of enjoying all the goods of this life without working, and of bequeathing to his children, or to anyone he chooses, this purse with the "inexhaustible ruble." i see that the results of the labour of men pass over more than ever from the masses of labourers to those of the non-labourers; that the pyramid of the social structure is, as it were, being rebuilt, so that the stones of the foundation pass to the top, and the rapidity of this passage increases in a kind of geometric progression. i see that there is going on something like what would take place in an ant-hill if the society of ants should lose the sense of the general law, and some of them were to take the results of labour out of the foundations and carry them to the top of the hill, making the foundation narrower and narrower and thus enlarging the top, and so by that means cause their fellows to pass also from the foundation to the top. i see that instead of the ideal of a laborious life, men have created the ideal of the purse with the "inexhaustible ruble." the rich, i among their number, arrange this ruble for themselves by various devices; and in order to enjoy it we locate ourselves in towns, in a place where nothing is produced but everything is swallowed up. the poor labouring man, swindled so that the rich may have this magic ruble, follows them to town; and there he also has recourse to tricks, either arranging matters so that he may work little and enjoy much (thus making the condition of other workingmen still more heavy), or, not having attained this state, he ruins himself and drifts into the continually and rapidly increasing number of cold and hungry tenants of doss-houses. i belong to the class of those men who by means of these various devices take away from the working people the necessaries of life, and who thus, as it were, create for themselves the inexhaustible fairy ruble which tempts in turn these unfortunate ones. i wish to help men; and therefore it is clear that first of all i ought on the one side to cease to plunder them as i am doing now, and on the other to leave off tempting them. but by means of most complicated, cunning, and wicked contrivances practised for centuries, i have made myself the owner of this ruble; that is, have got into a condition where, never doing anything myself, i can compel hundreds and thousands of people to work for me, and i am really availing myself of this privileged monopoly notwithstanding that all the time i imagine i pity these men and wish to help them. i sit on the neck of a man, and having quite crushed him down compel him to carry me and will not alight from off his shoulders, though i assure myself and others that i am very sorry for him and wish to ease his condition by every means in my power--except by getting off his back. surely this is plain. if i wish to help the poor, that is, to make the poor cease to be poor, i ought not to create the poor. yet i give money capriciously to those who have gone astray, and take away tens of rubles from men who have not yet become bad, thereby making them poor and at the same time depraved. this is very clear; but it was exceedingly difficult for me to understand at first, without some modification or reserve which would justify my position. however as soon as i come to see my own error, all that formerly appeared strange, complicated, clouded, and inexplicable, became quite simple and intelligible; but the important matter was, that the direction of my life indicated by this explanation, became at once, simple, clear, and agreeable, instead of being, as formerly, intricate, incomprehensible, and painful. who am i, i thought, that desire to better men's condition? i say i desire this, and yet i do not get up till noon, after having played cards in a brilliantly lighted saloon all night,--i, an enfeebled and effeminate man requiring the help and services of hundreds of people, i come to help them! to help these men who rise at five, sleep on boards, feed on cabbage and bread, understand how to plough, to reap, to put a handle to an axe, to hew, to harness horses, to sew; men who, by their strength and perseverance and skill and self-restraint are a hundred times stronger than i who come to help them. what _could_ i experience in my intercourse with these people but shame? the weakest of them, a drunkard, an inhabitant of rzhanoff's house, he whom they call "the sluggard," is a hundred times more laborious than i; his balance, so to say,--in other words the relation between what he takes from men and what he gives to them,--is a thousand times more to his credit than mine when i count what i receive from others and what i give them in return. and such men i go to assist! i go to help the poor. but of the two who is the poorer? no one is poorer than myself. i am a weak, good-for-nothing parasite who can only exist under very peculiar conditions, can live only when thousands of people labour to support this life which is not useful to anyone. and i, this very caterpillar which eats up the leaves of a tree, i wish to help the growth and the health of the tree and to cure it! all my life is spent thus: i eat, talk, and listen; then i eat, write, or read, which are only talking and listening in another form; i eat again, and play; then eat, talk, and listen, and finally eat and go to sleep: and thus every day is spent; i neither do anything else nor understand how to do it. and in order that i may enjoy this life it is necessary that from morning till night house-porters, dvorniks, cooks (male and female), footmen, coachmen, and laundresses, should work; to say nothing of the manual labour necessary so that the coachmen, cooks, footmen, and others may have the instruments and articles by which and upon which they work for me,--axes, casks, brushes, dishes, furniture, glasses, shoe-black, kerosene, hay, wood, and food. all these men and women work hard all the day and every day in order that i may talk, eat, and sleep. and i, this useless man, imagined i was able to benefit the very people who were serving me! that i did not benefit any one and that i was ashamed of myself, is not so strange as the fact that such a foolish idea ever came into my mind. the woman who nursed the sick old man helped him; the peasant's wife, who cut a slice of her bread earned by herself, from the very sowing of the corn that made it, helped the hungry one; simon, who gave three kopeks which he had earned, assisted the pilgrim, because these three kopeks really represented his labour; but i had served nobody, worked for no one, and knew very well that my money did not represent my labour. and so i felt that in money, or in money's worth, and in the possession of it, there was something wrong and evil; that the money itself, and the fact of my having it, was one of the chief causes of those evils which i had seen before me; and i asked myself, what is money? chapter xvii money! then what is money? it is answered, money represents labour. i meet educated people who even assert that money represents labour performed by those who possess it. i confess that i myself formerly shared this opinion, although i did not very clearly understand it. but now it became necessary for me to learn thoroughly what money is. in order to do so, i addressed myself to science. science says that money in itself is neither unjust nor pernicious; that money is the natural result of the conditions of social life, and is indispensable, first, for convenience of exchange; secondly, as a measure of value; thirdly, for saving; and fourthly, for payments. the fact that when i have in my pocket three rubles to spare, which i am not in need of, i have only to whistle and in every civilized town i can obtain a hundred people ready for these three rubles to do the worst, most disgusting, and humiliating act i require, it is said, comes not from money, but from the very complicated conditions of the economical life of nations! the dominion of one man over others does not come from money, but from the circumstance that a workingman does not receive the full value of his labour; and the fact that he does not get the full value of his labour depends upon the nature of capital, rent, and wages, and upon complicated connections between the distribution and consumption of wealth. in plain language, it means that people who have money may twist round their finger those who have none. but science says that this is an illusion; that in every kind of production three factors take part,--land, savings of labour (capital), and labour, and that the dominion of the few over the many proceeds from the various connections between these factors of production, because the two first factors, land and capital, are not in the hands of working people; and from this fact and from the various combinations which result from it this domination proceeds. whence comes the great power of money, which strikes us all with a sense of its injustice and cruelty? why is one man, by the means of money, to have dominion over others? science says, "it comes from the division of the factors of production, and from the consequent combinations which oppress the worker." this answer has always appeared to me to be strange, not only because it leaves one part of the question unnoticed (namely, the significance of money), but also because of the division of the factors of production, which to an unprejudiced man will always appear artificial and out of touch with reality. science asserts that in every production three agents come into operation,--land, capital and labour; and along with this division it is understood that property (or its value in money) is naturally divided among those who possess one of these agents; thus, rent (the value of the ground) belongs to the land-owner; interest belongs to the capitalist; and wages to the worker. is this really so? first, is it true that in every production only three agencies operate? now, while i am writing proceeds the production of hay around me. of what is this production composed? i am told of the land which produces the grass; of capital (scythes, rakes, pitch-forks, carts which are necessary for the housing of the hay); and of labour. but i see that this is not true. besides the land, there is the sun and rain; and, in addition, social order, which has been keeping these meadows from any damage which might be caused by letting stray cattle graze upon them, the skill of workmen, their knowledge of language, and many other agencies of production,--which, for some unknown reason, are not taken into consideration by political economy. the power of the sun is as necessary as the land, even more. i may mention the instances when men (in a town, for example), assume the right to keep out the sun from others by means of walls or trees. why, then, is the sun not included among the factors of production? rain is another means as necessary as the ground itself. the air too. i can imagine men without water and pure air because other men had assumed to themselves the right to monopolise these essential necessaries of all. public security is likewise a necessary element. food and dress for workmen are similar factors in production; this is even recognized by some economists. education, the knowledge of language which creates the possibility to apply work, is likewise an agent. i could fill a volume by enumerating such combinations, not mentioned by science. why, then, are three only to be chosen, and laid as a foundation for the science of political economy? sunshine and water equally with the earth are factors in production, so with the food and clothes of the workers, and the transmission of knowledge. all may be taken as distinct factors in production. simply because the right of men to enjoy the rays of the sun, rain, food, language, and audience, are challenged only on rare occasions; but the use of land and of the instruments of labour are constantly challenged in society. this is the true foundation; and the division of the factors of production into three, is quite arbitrary, and is not involved in the nature of things. but it may perhaps be urged that this division is so suitable to man, that wherever economic relationships are formed these three factors appear at once and alone. let us see whether this is really so. first of all, i look at what is around me,--at russian colonists, of whom millions have for ages existed. they come to a land, settle themselves on it, and begin to work; and it does not enter the mind of any of them that a man who does not use the land can have any claim to it,--and the land does not assert any rights of its own. on the contrary, the colonists conscientiously recognize the communism of the land and the right of every one of them to plough and to mow wherever he likes. for cultivation, for gardening, for building houses, the colonists obtain various implements of labour: nor does it enter the mind of any of them that these instruments of labour may be allowed to bring profit in themselves, and the capital does not assert any rights of its own. on the contrary, the colonists consciously recognize among themselves that all interest for tools, or borrowed corn or capital, is unjust. they work upon a free land, labour with their own tools, or with those borrowed without interest, each for himself, or all together, for common business; and in such a community, it is impossible to prove either the existence of rent, interest accruing from capital, or remuneration for labour. in referring to such a community i am not indulging my fancy but describing what has always taken place, not only among russian colonists, but everywhere, as long as human nature is not sinned against. i am describing what appears to everyone to be natural and rational. men settle on land, and each member undertakes the business which suits him, and, having procured the necessary tools, does his own work. if these men find it more convenient to work together, they form a workmen's association. but neither in separate households, nor in associations, will separate agents of production appear till men artificially and forcibly divide them. there will be simply labour and the necessary conditions of labour,--the sun which warms all, the air which they breathe, water which they drink, land on which they labour, clothes on the body, food in the stomach, stakes, shovels, ploughs, machines with which they work. and it is evident that neither the rays of the sun, nor the clothes on the body, nor the stakes, nor the spade, nor the plough, with which each man works, nor the machines with which they labour in the workmen's association, can belong to anyone else than those who enjoy the rays of the sun, breathe the air, drink the water, eat the bread, clothe their bodies, and labour with the spade or with the machines, because all these are necessary only for those who use them. and when men act thus, we see they act rationally. therefore, observing all the economic conditions created among men, i do not see that division into three is natural. i see, on the contrary, that it is neither natural nor rational. but perhaps the setting apart of these three does not occur in primitive societies, only when the population increases and cultivation begins to develop it is unavoidable. and we cannot but recognise the fact that this division has occurred in european society. let us see whether it is really so. we are told that in european society this division of agencies has been; that is, that one man possesses land, another accomplished the instruments of labour, and the third is without land and instruments. we have grown so accustomed to this assertion that we are no longer struck by the strangeness of it. but in this assertion lies an inner contradiction. the conception of a labouring man, includes the land on which he lives and the tools with which he works. if he did not live on the land and had no tools he would not be a labourer. a workman deprived of land and tools never existed and never can exist. there cannot be a bootmaker without a house for his work built on land, without water, air, and tools to work with. if the peasant has no land, horse, water or scythe; if the bootmaker is without a house, water, or awl, then that means that some one has driven him from the ground, or taken it from him, and has cheated him out of his scythe, cart, horse, or awl; but it does not in any way mean that there can be country labourers without scythes or bootmakers without tools. as you cannot think of a fisherman on dry land without fishing implements, unless you imagine him driven away from the water by some one who has taken his fishing implements from him; so also you cannot picture a workman without land on which to live, and without tools for his trade, unless somebody has driven him from the former, or robbed him of the latter. there may be men who are hunted from one place to another, and who, having been robbed, are compelled perforce to work for another man and make things necessary for themselves, but this does not mean that such is the nature of production. it means only that in such case, the natural conditions of production are violated. but if we are to consider as factors of production all of which a workman may be deprived by force, why not count among these the claim on the person of a slave? why not count claims on the rain and the rays of the sun? one man might build a wall and so keep the sun from his neighbour; another might come who would turn the course of a river through his own pond and so contaminate its water; or claim a fellow-being as his own property. but none of these claims, although enforced by violence, can be recognised as a basis. it is therefore as wrong to accept the artificial rights to land and tools as separate factors in production, as to recognise as such the invented rights to use sunshine, air, water, or the person of another. there may be men who claim the land and the tools of a workman, as there were men who claimed the persons of others, and as there may be men who assert their rights to the exclusive use of the rays of the sun, or of water and air. there may be men who drive away a workman from place to place, taking from him by force the products of his labour as they are produced, and the very instruments of its production, who compel him to work, not for himself, but for his master, as in the factories;--all this is possible; but the conception of a workman without land and tools is still an impossibility, as much as that a man can willingly become the property of another, notwithstanding men have claimed other men for many generations. and as the claim of property in the person of another cannot deprive a slave of his innate right to seek his own welfare and not that of his master; so, too, the claim to the exclusive possession of land and the tools of others cannot deprive the labourer of his inherent rights as a man to live on the land and to work with his own tools, or with communal tools, as he thinks most useful for himself. all that science can say in examining the present economic question, is this: that in europe certain claims to the land and the tools of workmen are made, in consequence of which, for some of these workmen (but by no means for all of them), the proper conditions of production are violated, so that they are deprived of land and implements of labour and compelled to work with the tools of others. but it is certainly not established that this accidental violation of the law of production is the fundamental law itself. in saying that this separate consideration of the factors is the fundamental law of production, the economist is doing the very thing a zoölogist would do, if on seeing a great many siskins with their wings cut, and kept in little cages, he should assert that this was the essential condition of the life of birds, and that their life is composed of such conditions. however many siskins there may be, kept in paste-board houses, with their wings cut, a zoölogist cannot say that these, and a tiny pail of water running up rails, are the conditions of the birds' lives. and however great the number of workpeople there may be, driven from place to place, and deprived of their productions as well as their tools, the natural right of man to live on the land, and to work with his own tools, is essential to him, and so it will remain forever. of course there are some who lay claim to the land and to the tools of workmen, just as in former ages there were some who laid claim to the persons of others; but there can be no real division of men into lords and slaves--as they wanted to establish in the ancient world--any more than there can be any real division in the agents of production (land and capital, etc.), as the economists are trying to establish. these unlawful claims on the liberty of other men, science calls "the natural conditions of production." instead of taking its fundamental principles from the natural properties of human societies, science took them from a special case; and desiring to justify this case, it recognized the right of some men to the land on which other men earn their living, and to the tools with which others again work; in other words, it recognized as a right something which had never existed, and cannot exist, and which is in itself a contradiction, because the claim of the man to the land on which he does not labour, is in essence nothing else than the right to use the land which he does not use; the claim on the tools of others is nothing else than the assumption of a right to work with implements with which a man does not work. science, by dividing the factors of production, declares that the natural condition of a workman--that is, of a man in the true sense of the word--is the unnatural condition in which he lives at present, just as in ancient times, by the division of men into citizens and slaves, it was asserted that the unnatural condition of slavery was the natural condition of life. this very division, which science has accepted only for the purpose of justifying the existing injustice, and the recognition of this division as the foundation of all its inquiries, is responsible for the fact that science vainly tries to explain existing phenomena and, denying the clearest and plainest answers to the questions that arise, gives answers which have absolutely no meaning in them. the question of economic science is this: what is the cause of the fact that some men, by means of money, acquire an imaginary right to land and capital, and may make slaves of those who have no money? the answer which presents itself to common sense is, that it is the result of money, the nature of which is to enslave men. but economic science denies this, and says: this arises, not from the nature of money, but from the fact that some men have land and capital, and others have neither. we ask: why do persons who possess land and capital oppress those who possess neither? and we are answered: because they possess land and capital. but this is just what we are inquiring about. is not deprivation of land and tools enforced slavery? and the answer is like saying, "a remedy is narcotic because its effects are narcotic." life does not cease to put this essential question, and even science herself notices and tries to answer it, but does not succeed, because, starting from her own fundamental principles, she only turns herself round in a vicious circle. in order to give itself a satisfactory answer to the question, science must first of all deny that wrong division of the agents of production, and cease to acknowledge the result of the phenomena as being their cause; and she must seek, first the more obvious, and then the remoter, causes of those phenomena which constitute the matter questioned. science must answer the question, why are some men deprived of land and tools while others possess both? or, why is it that lands and tools are taken from the people who labour on the land and work with the tools? and as soon as economic science puts this question to herself she will get new ideas which will transform all the previous ideas of sham science,--which has been moving in an unalterable circle of propositions,--that the miserable condition of the workers proceeds from the fact that they are miserable. to simple-minded persons it must seem unquestionable that the obvious reason of the oppression of some men by others is money. but science, denying this, says that money is only a medium of exchange, which has no connection with slavery of men. let us see whether it is so or not. chapter xviii what is the origin of money? what are the conditions under which nations always have money, and under what circumstances need nations not use money? there are small tribes in africa, and one in australia, who live as the sknepies and the drevlyans lived in olden times. these tribes lived by breeding cattle and cultivating gardens. we become acquainted with them at the dawn of history, and history begins by recording the fact that some invaders appear on the scene. and invaders always do the same thing: they take away from the aborigines everything they can take,--cattle, corn, and cloth; they even make prisoners, male and female, and carry them away. in a few years the invaders appear again, but the people have not yet got over the consequences of their first misfortunes, and there is scarcely anything to take from them; so the invaders invent new and better means of making use of their victims. these methods are very simple, and present themselves naturally to the mind of all men. the _first_ is personal slavery. there is a drawback to this, because the invaders must take over the entire control and administration of the tribe, and feed all the slaves; hence, naturally, there appears the _second_. the people are left on their own land, but this becomes the recognized property of the invaders, who portion it out among the leading military men, by whose means the labour of the tribe is utilized and transferred to the conquerors. but this, too, has its drawback. it is inconvenient to have to oversee all the production of the conquered people, and thus the _third_ means is introduced, as primitive as the two former; this is, the levying of a certain obligatory tax to be paid by the conquered at stated periods. the object of conquest is to take from the conquered the greatest possible amount of the product of their labour. it is evident, that, in order to do this, the conquerors must take the articles which are the most valuable to the conquered, and which at the same time are not cumbersome, and are convenient for keeping,--skins of animals, and gold. so the conquerors lay upon the family or the tribe a tax in these skins or gold, to be paid at fixed times; and thus, by means of this tribute, they utilize the labour of the conquered people in the most convenient way. when the skins and the gold have been taken from the original owners, they are compelled to sell all they have amongst themselves to obtain more gold and skins for their masters; that is, they have to sell their property and their labour. so it was in ancient times, in the middle ages, and so it occurs now. in the ancient world, where the subjugation of one people by another was frequent, personal slavery was the most widespread method of subjugation, and the centre of gravity in this compulsion, owing to the non-recognition of the equality of men. in the middle ages, feudalism--land-ownership and the servitude connected with it--partly takes the place of personal slavery, and the centre of compulsion is transferred from persons to land. in modern times, since the discovery of america, the development of commerce, and the influx of gold (which is accepted as a universal medium of exchange), the money tribute has become, with the increase of state power, the chief instrument for enslaving men, and upon this all economic relations are now based. in "the literary miscellany" there is an article by professor yanjoul in which he describes the recent history of the fiji islands. if i were trying to find the most pointed illustration of how in our day the compulsory money payment became the chief instrument in enslaving some men by others, i could not imagine anything more striking and convincing than this trustworthy history,--history based upon documents of facts which are of recent occurrence. in the south-sea islands, in polynesia, lives a race called the fiji. the group on which they live, says professor yanjoul, is composed of small islands, which altogether comprise about forty thousand square miles. only half of these islands are inhabited, by a hundred and fifty thousand natives and fifteen hundred white men. the natives were reclaimed from savagery a long time ago, and were distinguished among the other natives of polynesia by their intellectual capacities. they appear to be capable of labour and development, which they proved by the fact that within a short period they became good workmen and cattle breeders. the inhabitants were well-to-do, but in the year the condition of their state became desperate: the nation and its representative, kakabo, were in need of money. this money, forty-five thousand dollars, was wanted as compensation or indemnification demanded of them by the united states of america for violence said to have been done by fijis to some citizens of the american republic. to collect this, the americans sent a squadron, which unexpectedly seized some of the best islands under the pretext of guaranty, and threatened to bombard and ruin the towns if the indemnification were not paid over on a certain date to the representatives of america. the americans were among the first colonists who came to the fiji islands with the missionaries. they chose and (under one pretext or another) took possession of the best pieces of land on the islands, and established there cotton and coffee plantations. they hired whole crowds of natives, binding them by contracts unknown to this half-civilized race, or they acted through special contractors and dealers of human merchandise. misunderstandings between these master planters and the natives, whom they considered almost as slaves, were unavoidable, and it was some of these quarrels which served as a pretext for the american indemnification. notwithstanding their prosperity the fijis had preserved almost up to that time the forms of the so-called natural economy which existed in europe during the middle ages: money was scarcely in circulation among them, and their trade was almost exclusively on the barter basis,--one merchandise being exchanged for another, and the few social taxes and those of the state being paid in rural products. what could the fijis and their king kakabo do, when the americans demanded forty-five thousand dollars under terrible threats in the event of nonpayment? to the fijis the very figures seemed inconceivable, to say nothing of the money itself, which they had never seen in such large quantities. after deliberating with other chiefs, kakabo made up his mind to apply to the queen of england, at first merely asking her to take the islands under her protection, but afterwards requesting definite annexation. but the english regarded this request cautiously, and were in no hurry to assist the half-savage monarch out of his difficulty. instead of giving a direct answer, they sent special commissioners to make inquiries about the fiji islands in , in order to be able to decide whether it was worth while to annex them to the british possessions, and to lay out money to satisfy the american claims. meanwhile the american government continued to insist upon payment, and as a pledge held in their _de facto_ dominion some of the best parts, and, having looked closely into the national wealth, raised their former claim to ninety thousand dollars, threatening to increase it still more if kakabo did not pay at once. being thus pushed on every side, and knowing nothing of european means of credit accommodation, the poor king, acting on the advice of european colonists, began to try to raise money in melbourne among the merchants, cost what it might, if even he should be obliged to yield his kingdom into private hands. so in consequence of his application a commercial society was formed in melbourne. this joint-stock company, which took the name of the "polynesian company," formed a treaty with the chiefs of the fiji-islanders on the most advantageous terms. it took over the debt to the american government, pledging itself to pay it by several instalments; and for this the company received, according to the first treaty, one, and then two hundred thousand acres of the best land, selected by itself; perpetual immunity from all taxes and dues for all its factories, operations, and colonies, and the exclusive right for a long period to establish banks in the fiji islands, with the privilege of issuing unlimited notes. this treaty was definitely concluded in the year , and there has appeared in the fiji islands, side by side with the local government, of which kakabo is the head, another powerful authority,--a commercial organization, with large estates over all the islands, exercising a powerful influence upon the government. up to this time the wants of the government of kakabo had been satisfied with a payment in local products, and a small custom tax on goods imported. but with the conclusion of the treaty and the formation of the influential "polynesian company," the king's financial circumstances had changed. a considerable part of the best land in his dominion having passed into the hands of the company, his income from the land had therefore diminished; on the other hand the income from the custom taxes also diminished, because the company had obtained for itself the right to import and export all kinds of goods free of duties. the natives--ninety-nine per cent. of the population--had never paid much in custom duties, as they bought scarcely any of the european productions except some stuffs and hardware; and now, from the freeing of custom duties of many well-to-do europeans along with the polynesian company, the income of king kakabo was reduced to _nil_, and he was obliged to take steps to resuscitate it if possible. he began to consult his white friends as to the best way to remedy the trouble, and they advised him to create the first direct tax in the country; and, in order, i suppose, to have less trouble about it, to make it in money. the tax was established in the form of a general poll-tax, amounting to one pound for every man, and to four shillings for every woman, throughout the islands. as i have already said, there still exists on the fiji islands a natural economy and a trade by barter. very few natives possess money. their wealth consists chiefly of raw products and cattle; whilst the new tax required the possession of considerable sums of money at fixed times. up to that date a native had not been accustomed to any individual burden in the interests of his government, except personal obligations; all the taxes which had to be paid, were paid by the community or village to which he belonged, and from the common fields from which he received his principal income. one alternative was left to him,--to try to raise money from the european colonists; that is, to address himself either to the merchant or to the planter. to the first he was obliged to sell his productions on the merchant's own terms (because the tax-collector required money at a certain fixed date), or even to raise money by the sale of his expected harvest, which enabled the merchant to take iniquitous interest. or he had to address himself to the planter, and sell him his labour; that is, to become his workman: but the wages on the fiji islands were very low (owing, i suppose, to the exceptionally great supply of labour); not exceeding a shilling a week for a grown-up man, or two pounds twelve shillings a year; and therefore, merely to be able to get the money necessary to pay his own tax, to say nothing of his family, a fiji had to leave his house, his family, and his own land, often to go far away to another island, and enslave himself to the planter for at least half a year; even then there was the payment for his family, which he must provide by some other means. we can understand the result of such a state of affairs. from his hundred and fifty thousand subjects, kakabo collected only six thousand pounds; and so there began a forcible extortion of taxes, unknown till then, and a whole series of coercive measures. the local administration, formerly incorruptible, soon made common cause with the european planters, who began to have their own way with the country. for nonpayment of the taxes the fijis were summoned to the court, and sentenced not only to pay the expenses but also to imprisonment for not less than six months. the prison really meant the plantations of the first white man who chose to pay the tax-money and the legal expenses of the offender. thus the white settlers received cheap labour to any amount. at first this compulsory labour was fixed for not longer than half a year; but afterwards the bribed judges found it possible to pass sentence for eighteen months, and even then to renew the sentence. very quickly, in the course of a few years, the picture of the social condition of the inhabitants of fiji was quite changed. whole districts, formerly flourishing, lost half of their population, and were greatly impoverished. all the male population, except the old and infirm, worked far away from their homes for european planters, to get money necessary for the taxes, or in consequence of the law court. the women on the fiji islands had scarcely ever worked in the fields, so that in the absence of the men, all the local farming was neglected and went to ruin. and in the course of a few years, half the population of fiji had become the slaves of the colonists. to relieve their position the fiji-islanders again appealed to england. a new petition was got up, subscribed by many eminent persons and chiefs, praying to be annexed to england; and this was handed to the british consul. meanwhile, england, thanks to her scientific expeditions, had time not only to investigate the affairs of the islands, but even to survey them, and duly to appreciate the natural riches of this fine corner of the globe. owing to all these circumstances, the negotiations this time were crowned with full success; and in , to the great dissatisfaction of the american planters, england officially took possession of the fiji islands, and added them to its colonies. kakabo died, his heirs had a small pension assigned to them, and the administration of the islands was intrusted to sir hercules robinson, the governor of new south wales. in the first year of its annexation the fiji-islanders had no self-government, but were under the direction of sir hercules robinson, who appointed an administrator. taking the islands into their hands, the english government had to undertake the difficult task of gratifying various expectations raised by them. the natives, of course, first of all expected the abolition of the hated poll-tax; one part of the white colonists (the americans) looked with suspicion upon the british rule; and another part (those of english origin) expected all kinds of confirmations of their power over the natives,--permission to enclose the land, and so on. the english government, however, proved itself equal to the task; and its first act was to abolish for ever the poll-tax, which had created the slavery of the natives in the interest of a few colonists. but here sir hercules robinson had at once to face a difficult dilemma. it was necessary to abolish the poll-tax, which had made the fijis seek the help of the english government; but, at the same time, according to english colonial policy, the colonies had to support themselves; they had to find their own means for covering the expenses of the government. with the abolition of the poll-tax, all the incomes of the fijis (from custom duties) did not amount to more than six thousand pounds, while the government expenses required at least seventy thousand a year. having abolished the money tax, sir hercules robinson now thought of a labour tax; but this did not yield the sum necessary to feed him and his assistants. matters did not mend until a new governor had been appointed,--gordon,--who, to get out of the inhabitants the money necessary to keep him and his officials, resolved not to demand money until it had come sufficiently into general circulation on the islands, but to take from the natives their products, and to sell them himself. this tragical episode in the lives of the fijis is the clearest and best proof of the nature and true meaning of money in our time. in this illustration every essential is represented. the first fundamental condition of slavery,--the guns, threats, murders, and plunder,--and lastly, money, the means of subjugation which has supplanted all the others. that which in an historical sketch of economical development, has to be investigated during centuries, we have here, where all the forms of monetary violence have fully developed themselves, concentrated in a space of ten years. the drama begins thus: the american government sends ships with loaded guns to the shores of the islands, whose inhabitants they want to enslave. the pretext of this threat is monetary; but the beginning of the tragedy is the levelling of guns against all the inhabitants,--women, children, old people, and men,--though innocent of any crime. "your money or your life,"--forty-five thousand dollars, then ninety thousand or slaughter. but the ninety thousand are not to be had. so now begins the second act: it is the postponement of a measure which would be bloody, terrible, and concentrated in a short period; and the substitution of a suffering less perceptible, which can be laid upon all, and will last longer. and the natives, with their representative, seek to substitute for the massacre a slavery of money. they borrow money, and the method at once begins to operate like a disciplined army. in five years the thing is done,--the men have not only lost their right to utilize their own land and their property, but also their liberty,--they have become slaves. here begins act three. the situation is too painful, and the unfortunate ones are told they may change their master and become the slaves of another. of freedom from the slavery brought about by the means of money there is not one thought. and the people call for another master, to whom they give themselves up, asking him to improve their condition. the english come, see that dominion over these islanders will give them the possibility of feeding their already too greatly multiplied parasites, and take possession of the islands and their inhabitants. but it does not take them in the form of personal slaves, it does not take even the land, nor distribute it among its assistants. these old ways are not necessary now: only one thing is necessary,--taxes which must be large enough on the one hand to prevent the workingmen from freeing themselves from virtual slavery, and on the other hand, to feed luxuriously a great number of parasites. the inhabitants must pay seventy thousand pounds sterling annually,--that is the fundamental condition upon which england consents to free the fijis from the american despotism, and this is just what was wanting for the final enslaving of the inhabitants. but it turns out that the fiji-islanders cannot under any circumstances pay these seventy thousand pounds in their present state. the claim is too great. the english temporarily modify it, and take a part of it out in natural products in order that in time, when money has come into circulation, they may receive the full sum. they do not behave like the former company, whose conduct we may liken to the first coming of savage invaders into an uncivilized land, when they want only to take as much as possible and then decamp; but england behaves like a more clear-sighted enslaver; she does not kill at one blow the goose with the golden eggs, but feeds her in order that she may continue to lay them. england at first relaxes the reins for her own interest that she may hold them tight forever afterwards, and so has brought the fiji-islanders into that state of permanent monetary thraldom in which all civilized european people now exist, and from which their chance of escape is not apparent. this phenomenon repeats itself in america, in china, in central asia; and it is the same in the history of the conquest of all nations. money is an inoffensive means of exchange when it is not collected while loaded guns are directed from the sea-shore against the defenceless inhabitants. as soon as it is taken by the force of guns, the same thing must inevitably take place which occurred on the fiji islands, and has always and everywhere repeated itself. men who consider it their lawful right to utilize the labour of others, will achieve their ends by the means of a forcible demand of a sum of money which will compel the oppressed to become the slaves of the oppressors. moreover, that will happen which occurred between the english and the fijis,--the extortioners will always, in their demand for money, rather exceed the limit to which the amount of the sum required must rise, so that the enslaving may be earlier. they will respect this limit only while they have moral sense and sufficient money for themselves: they will overstep it when they lose their moral sense or even do not require funds. as for governments, they will always exceed this limit,--first, because for a government there exists no moral sense of justice; and secondly, because, as everyone knows, every government is always in the greatest want of money, through wars and the necessity of giving gratuities to their allies. all governments are insolvent, and involuntarily follow a maxim expressed by a russian statesman of the eighteenth century,--that the peasant must be sheared of his wool lest it grow too long. all governments are hopelessly in debt, and this debt on an average (not taking in consideration its occasional diminution in england and america) is growing at a terrible rate. so also grow the budgets; that is, the necessity of struggling with other extortioners, and of giving presents to those who assist in extortion, and because of that grows the land rent. wages do not increase, not because of the law of rent, but because taxes, collected with violence, exist, with the object of taking away from men their superfluities, so that they may be compelled to sell their labour to satisfy them,--utilizing their labour being the aim of raising the taxes. and their labour can only be utilized when, on a general average, the taxes required are more than the labourers are able to give without depriving themselves of all means of subsistence. the increase of wages would put an end to the possibility of slavery; and therefore, as long as violence exists, wages can never be increased. the simple and plain mode of action of some men towards others, political economists term _the iron law_; the instrument by which such action is performed, they call a medium of exchange; and money is this inoffensive medium of exchange necessary for men in their transactions with each other. why is it, then, that, whenever there is no violent demand for money taxes, money in its true signification has never existed, and never can exist; but, as among the fiji-islanders, the phoenicians, the kirghis, and generally among men who do not pay taxes, such as the africans, there is either a direct exchange of produce, sheep, hides, skins, or accidental standards of value, such as shells? a definite kind of money, whatever it may be, always becomes not a means of exchange, but a means of ransoming from violence; and it begins to circulate among men only when a definite standard is compulsorily required from all. it is only then that everybody wants it equally, and only then does it receive any value. and further, it is not the thing that is most convenient for exchange that receives exchange value, but that which is required by the government. if gold is demanded, gold becomes valuable: if knuckle-bones were demanded, they, too, would become valuable. if it were not so, why, then, has the issue of this means of exchange always been the prerogative of the government? the fiji-islanders, for instance, have arranged among themselves their own means of exchange; well, then, let them be free to exchange what and how they like, and you, men possessing power, or the means of violence, do not interfere with this exchange. but instead of this you coin money, and do not allow anyone else to coin it; or, as is the case with us, you merely print some notes, engraving upon them the heads of the tsars, sign them with a particular signature, and threaten to punish every falsification of them. then you distribute this money to your assistants, and, under the name of duties and taxes, you require everybody to give you such money or such notes with such signatures, and so many of them, that a workman must give away all his labour in order to get these notes or coins; and then you want to convince us that this money is necessary for us as a means of exchange! here are all men free, and none oppresses the others or keeps them in slavery; but money appears in society and immediately an iron law exists, in consequence of which rent increases and wages diminish to the minimum. that half (nay, more than half) of the russian peasants, in order to pay direct and indirect taxes, voluntarily sell themselves as slaves to the land-owners or to manufacturers, does not at all signify (which is obvious); for the violent collection of the poll-taxes and indirect and land taxes, which have to be paid in money to the government and to its assistants (the landowners), _compels_ the workman to be a slave to those who own money; but it means that this money, as a means of exchange, and an iron law, exist. before the serfs were free, i could compel iván to do any work; and if he refused to do it, i could send him to the police-sergeant, and the latter would give him the rod till he submitted. but if i compelled iván to overwork himself, and did not give him either land or food, the matter would go up to the authorities, and i should have to answer for it. but now that men are free, i can compel iván and peter and sidor to do every kind of work; and if they refuse i give them no money to pay taxes, and then they will be flogged till they submit: besides this, i may also make a german, a frenchman, a chinaman, and an indian, work for me by that means, so that, if they do not submit, i shall not give them money to hire land, or to buy bread, because they have neither land nor bread. and if i make them overwork themselves, or kill them with excess of labour, nobody will say a word to me about it; and, moreover, if i have read books on political economy i shall be quite sure that all men are free and that money does not create slavery! our peasants have long known that with a ruble one can hurt more than with a stick. it is only political economists who cannot see it. to say that money does not create bondage, is the same as to have asserted, fifty years ago, that serfdom did not create slavery. political economists say that money is an inoffensive medium of exchange, notwithstanding the fact that its possession enables one man to enslave another. why, then, was it not said half a century ago that servitude was, in itself, an inoffensive medium of reciprocal services, notwithstanding the fact that no man could lawfully enslave another? some give their manual labour, and the work of others consists in taking care of the physical and intellectual welfare of the slaves, and in superintending their efforts. and, i fancy, some really did say this. chapter xix if the object of this sham pseudo-science of political economy had not been the same as that of all other legal sciences,--the justification of coercion,--it could not have avoided noticing the strange phenomena that the distribution of wealth, the deprivation of some men of land and capital, and the enslavery of some men to others, depend upon money, and that it is only by means of money that some men utilize the labour of others,--in other words, enslave them. i repeat that a man who has money may buy up and monopolise all the corn and kill others by starvation, completely oppressing them, as it has frequently happened before our own eyes on a very large scale. it would seem then that we ought to examine the connection of these occurrences with money; but political science, with full assurance, asserts that money has no connection whatever with the matter. this science says, "money is as much an article of merchandise as anything else which contains the value of its production, only with this difference,--that this article of merchandise is chosen as the more convenient medium of exchange for establishing values, for saving, and for making payments. one man has made boots, another has grown wheat, the third has bred sheep; and now, in order to exchange more conveniently, they put money into circulation, which represents the equivalent of labour; and by this medium they exchange the soles of boots for a loin of mutton, or ten pounds of flour." students of this sham science are very fond of picturing to themselves such a state of affairs; but there has never been such a condition in the world. this idea about society is like the fancy about the primitive, prehistoric, perfect human state which the philosophers cherished; but such a state never existed. in all human societies where money has been used there has also been the oppression by the strong and the armed of the weak and the defenceless; and wherever there was oppression, there the standard of value, money, whatever it consisted of, cattle or hides, skin or metals, must have unavoidably lost its significance as a medium of exchange, and received the meaning of a ransom from violence. there is no doubt that money does possess the inoffensive properties which science enumerates; but it would have these properties only in a society in which there was no violence,--in an ideal state. but in such a society money would not be found as a general measure of value. in such a community, at the advent of violence, money would immediately lose its significance. in all societies known to us where money is used it receives the significance of a medium of exchange only because it serves as a means of violence. and its chief object is to act thus,--not as a mere medium. where violence exists, money cannot be a true medium of exchange, because it is not a measure of value,--because, as soon as one man may take away from another the products of his labour, all measures of value are directly violated. if horses and cows, bred by one man, and violently taken away by others, were brought to a market, it is plain that the value of other horses and cows there, when brought into competition with stolen animals, would no longer correspond with the labour of breeding them. and the value of everything else would also change with this change, and so money could not determine values. besides, if one man may acquire by force a cow or a horse or a house, he may by the same force acquire money itself, and with this money acquire all kinds of produce. if, then, money itself is acquired by violence, and spent to purchase products, money entirely loses its quality as a medium of exchange. the oppressor who takes money and gives it for the products of labour does not exchange anything, but obtains from labour all that he wants. but let us suppose that such an imaginary and impossible state of society really existed, in which money is in circulation, without the exercise of general violence,--silver or gold serving as a measure of value and as a medium of exchange. all the savings in such a society are expressed by money. there appears in this society an oppressor in the shape of a conqueror. let us suppose that this oppressor claims the cows, horses, clothes, and the houses of the inhabitants; but, as it is not convenient for him to take possession of all this, he naturally thinks of taking that which represents among these men all kinds of values and is exchanged for everything,--money. and at once in this community, money receives, for the oppressor and his assistants, another signification, and its character as a medium of exchange therefore immediately ceases. the measure of the values will always depend on the pleasure of the oppressor. the articles most necessary to him, and for which he gives more money, are considered greater value, and _vice versa_; so that, in a community exposed to violence, money at once receives its chief meaning,--it becomes a means of violence and a ransom from violence, and it retains, among the oppressed, its significance as a medium of exchange only so far as that is convenient to the oppressor. let us picture the whole affair in a circle, thus:--the serfs supply their landlord with linen, poultry, sheep, and daily labour. the landlord substitutes money for these goods, and fixes the value of the various articles sent in. those who have no linen, corn, cattle, or manual labour to offer, may bring a definite sum of money. it is obvious, that, in the society of the peasants of this landlord, the price of the various articles will always depend upon the landlord's pleasure. the landlord uses the articles collected among his peasants, and some of these articles are more necessary for him than others: he fixes the prices for them accordingly, more or less. it is clear that the mere will and requirements of the landlord must regulate the prices of these articles among the payers. if he is in want of corn, he will set a high price for a fixed quantity of it, and a low price for linen, cattle, or work; and therefore those who have no corn will sell their labour, linen, and cattle to others, in order to buy corn to give it to the landlord. if the landlord chooses to substitute money for all his claims, then the value of things will again depend, not upon the value of labour, but first upon the sum of money which the landlord requires, and secondly upon the articles produced by the peasants, which are more necessary to the landlord, and for which he allows a higher price. the money-claim made by the landlord on the peasants ceases to influence the prices of the articles only when the peasants of this landlord live separately from other people and have no connection with any one; and secondly, when the landlord employs money, not in purchasing things in his own village, but elsewhere. only under these two conditions would the prices of things, though changed nominally, remain relatively the same, and money would become a measure of value and a medium of exchange. but if the peasants have any business connections with the inhabitants surrounding them, the prices of their produce, as sold to their neighbours, would depend on the sum required from them by their landlord. (if less money is required from their neighbours than from themselves, then their products would be sold cheaper than the products of their neighbours, and _vice versa_.) again, the landlord's money-demand would cease to influence the prices of the articles, only when the sums collected by the landlord were not spent in buying the products of his own peasants. but if he spends the money in purchasing from them, it is plain that the prices of various articles will constantly vary among them according as the landlord buys more of one thing than another. suppose one landlord has fixed a very high poll-tax, and his neighbour a very low one: it is clear that on the estate of the first landlord every thing will be cheaper than on the estate of the second, and that the prices on either estate will depend only upon the increase and decrease of the poll-taxes. this is one effect of violence on value. another, rising out of the first, consists in relative values. suppose one landlord is fond of horses, and pays a high price for them; another is fond of towels, and offers a high figure for them. it is obvious that on the estate of either of these two landlords, the horses and the towels will be dear, and the prices of these articles will be out of proportion to those of cows or of corn. if to-morrow the collector of towels dies, and his heirs are fond of poultry, then it is obvious that the price of towels will fall and that of poultry will rise. wherever in society there is the mastery of one man over another, there the meaning of money as the measure of value at once yields to the will of the oppressor, and its meaning as a medium of exchange of the products of labour is replaced by another,--that of the most convenient means of utilizing other people's labour. the oppressor wants money neither as a medium of exchange,--for he takes whatever he wants without exchange,--nor as a measure of value,--for he himself determines the value of everything,--but only for the convenience it affords of exercising violence; and this convenience consists in the fact that money may be stored up, and is the most convenient means of holding in slavery the majority of mankind. it is not convenient to carry away all the cattle in order always to have horses, cows, and sheep whenever wanted, because they must be fed; the same holds good with corn, for it may be spoiled; the same with slaves; sometimes a man may require thousands of workmen, and sometimes none. money demanded from those who have not got it makes it possible to get rid of all these inconveniences and to have everything that is required; and this is why the oppressor wants money. besides which, he wants money so that his right to utilize another man's labour may not be confined to certain men but may be extended to all men who require the money. when there was no money in circulation each landlord could utilize the labour of his own serfs only; but when they agreed to demand from the peasants money which they had not, they were enabled to appropriate without distinction the labour of all men on every estate. thus the oppressor finds it more convenient to press all his claims on labour in the shape of money, and for this sole object is it desired. to the victim from whom it is taken away money cannot be of use, either for the purpose of exchange (seeing he exchanges without money, as all nations have exchanged who had no government); nor for a measure of value, because this is fixed without him; nor for the purpose of saving, because the man whose productions are taken away cannot save; neither for payments, because an oppressed man always has more to pay than to receive; and if he does receive anything, the payment is made, not in money, but in articles of merchandise in either case; whether the workman takes his goods from his master's shop to remunerate his labour, or whether he buys the necessaries of life with his earnings in other shops, the money is required from him, and he is told by his oppressors that if he does not pay it they will refuse to give him land or bread, or will take away his cow or his horse, or condemn him to work, or put him in prison. he can only free himself from all this by selling the products of his toil, his own labour, or that of his children. he will have to sell this according to the prices established, not by a regular exchange, but by the authority which demands money of him. under the conditions of the influence of tribute and taxes on prices,--which everywhere and always repeat themselves, as much with the land-owners in a narrow circle, as with the state on a larger scale (in which the causes of the modification of prices are as obvious to us, as the motion of the hands and feet of puppets is obvious to those who look behind the curtain and see who are the wire-pullers):--under these circumstances, to say that money is a medium of exchange and a measure of value, is at least astonishing. chapter xx all slavery is based solely on the fact that one man can deprive another of his life, and by threatening to do so can compel him to do his will. we may see for certain that whenever one man is enslaved by another, when, against his own will and by the will of another, he does certain actions contrary to his inclination, the cause, if traced to its source, is nothing more nor less than a result of this threat. if a man gives to others all his labour, has not enough to eat, has to send his little children from home to work hard, leaves the land, and devotes all his life to a hated and unnecessary task, which happens before our own eyes in the world (which we term civilized because we ourselves live in it), then we may certainly say that he does so only because not to do so would be equivalent to loss of life. therefore in our civilized world, where the majority of the people, amidst terrible privations, perform hated labours unnecessary to themselves, the greater number of men are in a slavery based on the threat of being deprived of their existence. of what, then, does this slavery consist? wherein lies this power of threat? in olden times the means of subjugation and the threat to kill were plain and obvious to all: the primitive means of enslaving men then consisted in a direct threat to kill with the sword. an armed man said to an unarmed, "i can kill thee, as thou hast seen i have done to thy brother, but i do not want to do it: i will spare thee,--first, because it is not agreeable for me to kill thee; secondly, because, as well for me as for thee, it will be more convenient that thou shouldst labour for me than that i should kill thee. therefore do all i order thee to do, but know that, if thou refusest, i will take thy life." so the unarmed man submitted to the armed one and did everything he was ordered to do. the unarmed man laboured, the armed threatened. this was that personal slavery which appeared first among all nations, and which still exists among primitive races. this means of enslaving always begins the work; but when life becomes more complicated it undergoes a change. with the complication of life such a method presents great inconveniences to the oppressor. before he can appropriate the labour of the weaker he must feed and clothe them and keep them at work, and so their number remains small; and, besides, this compels the slave-holder to remain continually with the slaves, driving them to work by the threat of murdering them. and thus another means of subjugation is developed. five thousand years ago (according to the bible) this novel, convenient, and clever means of oppression was discovered by joseph the beautiful. it is similar to that employed now in the menageries for taming restive horses and wild beasts. it is hunger! this contrivance is thus described in the bible (genesis xli., - ):-- and he (joseph) gathered up all the food of the seven years, which were in the land of egypt, and laid up the food in the cities: the food of the field, which was round about every city, laid he up in the same. and joseph gathered corn as the sand of the sea, very much, until he left numbering; for it was without number. and the seven years of plenteousness, that was in the land of egypt, were ended. and the seven years of dearth began to come, according as joseph had said: and the dearth was in all lands; but in all the land of egypt, there was bread. and when all the land of egypt was famished, the people cried to pharaoh for bread: and pharaoh said unto all the egyptians, go unto joseph; what he said to you, do. and the famine was over all the face of the earth: and joseph opened all the storehouses, and sold unto the egyptians; and the famine waxed sore in the land of egypt. and all countries came into egypt to joseph for to buy corn; even because that the famine was so sore in all lands. joseph, making use of the primitive means of enslaving men by the threat of the sword, gathered corn during the years of plenty in expectation of years of famine which generally follow years of plenty,--men know all this without the dreams of pharaoh,--and then by the pangs of hunger he made all the egyptians and the inhabitants of the surrounding countries slaves to pharaoh more securely and conveniently. and when the people began to be famished, he arranged matters so as to keep them in his power _forever_. (genesis xlvii., - .) and there was no bread in all the land; for the famine was very sore, so that the land of egypt and all the land of canaan fainted by reason of the famine. and joseph gathered up all the money that was found in the land of egypt, and in the land of canaan, for the corn which they bought: and joseph brought the money into pharaoh's house. and when money failed in the land of egypt, and in the land of canaan, all the egyptians came unto joseph, and said, give us bread: for why should we die in thy presence? for the money faileth. and joseph said, give your cattle; and i will give you for your cattle, if money fail. and they brought their cattle unto joseph: and joseph gave them bread in exchange for horses, and for the flocks, and for the cattle of the herds, and for the asses: and he fed them with bread for all their cattle for that year. when that year was ended, they came unto him the second year, and said unto him, we will not hide it from my lord, how that our money is spent; my lord also hath our herds of cattle; there is not ought left in the sight of my lord, but our bodies, and our lands: wherefore shall we die before thine eyes, both we and our land? buy us and our land for bread, and we and our land will be servants unto pharaoh: and give us seed, that we may live, and not die, and that the land be not desolate. and joseph bought all the land of egypt for pharaoh; for the egyptians sold every man his field, because the famine prevailed over them: so the land became pharaoh's. and as for the people, he removed them to cities from one end of the borders of egypt even to the other end thereof. only the lands of the priests bought he not; for the priests had a portion assigned them of pharaoh, and did eat their portion which pharaoh gave them: wherefore they sold not their lands. then joseph said unto the people, behold, i have bought you this day and your land for pharaoh: lo, here is seed for you, and ye shall sow the land. and it shall come to pass in the increase, that ye shall give the fifth part unto pharaoh, and four parts shall be your own, for seed of the field, and for your food, and for them of your households, and for food for your little ones. and they said, thou hast saved our lives: let us find grace in the sight of my lord, and we will be pharaoh's servants. and joseph made it a law over the land of egypt unto this day, that pharaoh should have the fifth part; except the land of the priests only, which became not pharaoh's. formerly, in order to appropriate labour, pharaoh had to use violence towards them; but now, when the stores and the land belonged to pharaoh, he had only to keep these stores by force, and hunger compelled the men to labour for him. all the land now belonged to pharaoh, and he had all the stores (which were taken away from the people); and therefore, instead of driving them to work individually by the sword, he had only to keep food from them and they were enslaved, not by the sword, but by hunger. in a year of scarcity, all men may be starved to death at pharaoh's will; and in a year of plenty, all may be killed who, from casual misfortunes, have no stores of corn. thus comes into operation the second means of enslaving, not directly with the sword,--that is, by the strong man driving the weak one to labour under threat of killing him,--but by the strong one having taken away from the weak the stores of corn which, keeping by the sword, he compels the weak to work for. joseph said to the hungry men, "i could starve you to death, because i have the corn; but i will spare your lives, but only under the condition that you do all i order you for the food which i will give you." for the first means of enslaving, the oppressor only needs soldiers to ride to and fro among the inhabitants, and make them fulfil the requirements of their master under threat of death. and thus the oppressor has only to pay his soldiers. but with the second means, besides the soldiers, the oppressor must have different assistants for keeping and protecting the land and stores from the starving people. these are the josephs and their stewards and distributors. and the oppressor has to reward them, and to give joseph a dress of brocade, a gold ring, and servants, and corn and silver to his brothers and relatives. besides this, from the very nature of the second means, not only the stewards and their relations, but all who have stores of corn become participators in this violence, just as by the first means, based upon immediate force, every one who has arms becomes a partner in tyranny, so by this means, based upon hunger, every one who has stores of provision shares in it, and has power over those who have no stores. the advantage of this method over the former consists, first and chiefly, in the fact that the oppressor need no longer compel the workmen to do his will by force, for they themselves come to him and sell themselves to him; secondly, in the circumstance that fewer men escape from his violence. the drawback is, that he has to employ a greater number of men. for the oppressed the advantage of it consists in the fact that they are no longer exposed to rough violence but are left to themselves; and can always hope to pass from being the oppressed to becoming oppressors in their turn, which by fortunate circumstances they sometimes really do. the drawback for them is, that they can never escape from participating in the oppression of others. this new means of enslaving generally comes into operation together with the old one; and the oppressor lessens the one and increases the other according to his desires. but this does not fully satisfy the man who wishes to take away as much as possible of the products of the labour of as many working-people as he can find, and to enslave as many men as possible; and, therefore, a third means of oppression is evolved. this is the slavery of taxation, and, like the second, it is based upon hunger; but to the means of subduing men by depriving them of bread is added the deprivation of other necessaries. the oppressor requires from the slaves so much of the money he himself has coined, that, in order to obtain it, the slaves are compelled to sell not only stores of corn in greater quantity than the fifth part which was fixed by joseph, but the first necessaries of life as well,--meat, skins, wool, clothes, firewood, even their buildings; and therefore the oppressor always keeps his slaves in his power, not only by hunger, but by thirst, cold and other privations. and thus the third means of slavery comes into operation, a monetary, tributary one, consisting in the oppressor saying to the oppressed, "i can do with each of you just what i like; i can kill and destroy you by taking away the land by which you earn your living; i can, with this money which you must give me, buy all the corn upon which you feed, and sell it to strangers, and at any time annihilate you by starvation; i can take from you all that you have,--your cattle, your houses, your clothes; but it is neither convenient nor agreeable for me to do so, and therefore i let you alone, to work as you please; only give me so much of the money which i demand of you, either as a poll-tax, or according to your land or the quantity of your food and drink, or your clothes or your houses. give me this money, and do what you like among yourselves, but know that i shall neither protect nor maintain widows nor orphans nor invalids nor old people, nor such as have been burned out: i shall only protect the regular circulation of this money. this right will always be mine, to protect only those who regularly give me the fixed number of these pieces of money: as to how or where you get it, i shall not in the least trouble myself." and so the oppressor distributes these pieces of money as an acknowledgement that his demand has been complied with. the second method of enslaving consisted in this, that, having taken away the fifth part of the harvest, and collected stores of corn, pharaoh, besides the personal slavery by the sword, received, by his assistants, the possibility of dominion over the working-people during the time of famine, and over some of them during misfortunes which happen to them. the third method consists in this: pharaoh requires from the working-people more money than the value of the fifth part of corn which he took from them; he and his assistants get a new means of dominion over the working-class, not merely during the famine and their casual misfortunes, but permanently. by the second method, men retain some stores of corn which help them to bear indifferent harvests and casual misfortunes without going into slavery; but by the third, when there are more demands, the stores, not of corn only but of all other necessaries of life are taken away from them, and at the first misfortune a workman, having neither stores of corn nor any other stores which he might exchange for corn, falls into slavery to those who have money. to set the first in motion an oppressor need have only soldiers, and share the booty with them; for the second, besides the protectors of the land and the stores, he must have collectors and clerks for the distribution of the corn; for the third, besides the soldiers for keeping the land and his property, he must have collectors of taxes, assessors of direct taxation, supervisors, custom-house clerks, managers of money, and coiners of it. the organization of the third method is much more complicated than that of the second. by the second, the getting in of corn may be leased out, as was done in olden times and is still the custom in turkey; but by putting taxes on men there is need of a complicated administration, which has to ensure the right levying of the taxes. and therefore by the third method the oppressor has to share the plunder with a still greater number of men than by the second; besides, according to the very nature of the thing, all the men of the same or of the foreign country who possess money become sharers with the oppressed. the advantage of the third method over the first and second consists chiefly in the following fact: that by it there is no need to wait for a year of scarcity, as in the time of joseph, but years of famine are established forever, and (whilst by the second method the part of the labour which is taken away depends upon the harvest, and cannot be augmented _ad libitum_, because if there is no corn, there is nothing to take) by the new _monetary_ method the requirement can be brought to any desired limit, for the demand for money can always be satisfied, because the debtor, to satisfy it, must sell his cattle, clothes, or houses. the chief advantage to the oppressor of this method is that he can take away the greatest quantity of labour in the most convenient way; for a money-tax, like a screw, may easily and conveniently be turned to the utmost limit, and golden eggs be obtained though the bird that lays them is all but dead. another of its advantages for the oppressor is that its violence reaches all those also who, by possessing no land, formerly escaped from it by giving only a part of their labour for corn; whereas now, besides that part which they give for corn, they must now give another part for taxes. a drawback for the oppressor is that he has to share the plunder with a still greater number of men, not only with his direct assistants, but also with all those men of his own country, and even of foreign countries, who may have the money which is demanded from the slaves. its advantage for the oppressed is only that he is allowed greater independence than under the second method; he may live where he chooses, do what he likes; he may sow or not sow; he has to give no account of his labour; and if he has money, he may consider himself entirely free, and constantly hope, though only for a time, to obtain not only an independent position, but even to become an oppressor himself, when he has money to spare. the drawback for the oppressed is, that on a general average their situation becomes much worse, and they are deprived of the greater part of the products of their labour, because the number of those who utilize their labour has increased, and therefore the burden of keeping them falls upon a smaller number of men. this third method of enslaving men is also very old, and comes into operation with the former two without entirely excluding them. these three methods of enslaving men have always been in operation. they may all be compared to screws which secure the board laid on the work-people which presses them down. the fundamental, or middle screw, without which the other screws could not hold, which is first screwed up, and which is never slackened, is the screw of personal slavery, the enslaving of some men by others under threat of slaughter; the second, which is screwed up after the first, is that of enslaving men by taking away the land and stores of provisions from them, such alienation being maintained by the threat to murder; and the third screw is slavery enforced by the requirement of certain money taxes; and this demand is also maintained under threat of murder. these three screws are made fast, and it is only when one of them is tightened more that the others are slackened. for the complete enslavement of the workman, all three are necessary; and in our society, all three are in operation together. the first method of personal slavery under threat of murder by the sword has never been abolished, and never will be so long as there is any oppression, because every kind of oppression is based on this alone. we are all quite sure that personal slavery is abolished in our civilized world; that the last remnant of it has been annihilated in america and in russia, and that it is only among the barbarians that real slavery exists, and that with us it is no longer in being. we forget only one small circumstance,--those hundreds of millions of standing troops without which no state exists, and with the abolition of which all the economical organization of each state would inevitably fall to pieces. yet what are these millions of soldiers but the personal slaves of those who rule them? are not these men compelled to do the will of their commanders under the threat of torture and death,--a threat often carried out? the difference consisting only in the fact that the submission of these slaves is not called slavery, but discipline, and that slaves are slaves from their birth, but soldiers only during a more or less short period of their so-called "service." personal slavery, therefore, is not only not abolished in our civilized world, but, under the system of conscription, it has of late years been confirmed; and it has remained as it has always existed, only slightly changed from its original form. and it cannot but exist, because, so long as there is the enslaving of one man by another there will be this personal slavery too, this slavery which, under the threat of the sword, maintains serfdom, land-ownership, and taxes. it may be that this slavery of troops is useful, as it is said, for the defence and the glory of the country; but this kind of utility is more than doubtful, because we see how often in the case of unsuccessful wars it serves only for the subjugation and shame of the country. but of the expediency of this slavery for maintaining that of the land and taxes there is no question. if irish or russian peasants were to take possession of the land of the proprietors, troops would be sent to dispossess them. if you build a distillery or a brewery and do not pay excise, then soldiers will be sent to shut it up. refuse to pay taxes, and the same thing will happen to you. the second screw is the method of enslaving men by taking away from them their land and their stores of provisions. this method has also always been in existence wherever men are oppressed; and, whatever changes it may undergo, it is everywhere in operation. sometimes all the land belongs to the sovereign, as in turkey, and there one-tenth is given to the state treasury. sometimes a part of the land belongs to the sovereign, and taxes are raised on it. sometimes all the land belongs to a few people and is let out for labour, as in england. sometimes more or less large portions of land belong to the land-owners, as in russia, germany, and france. but wherever there is enslaving there exists also the appropriation of the land by the oppressor, and this screw is slackened or tightened only according to the condition of the other screws. thus, in russia, when personal slavery was extended to the majority of the working-people there was no need of land-slavery; but the screw of personal slavery was slackened in russia only when the screws of land and tax slavery were tightened. only when the government had appropriated the land and divided it among private individuals, and had instituted money payments and taxation, did it give the peasants personal freedom. in england, for instance, land-slavery is pre-eminently in operation, and the question about the nationalizing of the land consists only in the screw of taxation being tightened in order that the screw of land appropriation may be slackened. the third method of enslaving men, by taxes, has also been in operation for ages; and in our days, with the extension of uniform standards of money and the strengthening of state powers it has become an especially powerful influence. this method is so developed in our days that it tends to be a substitute for the second method of enslaving,--the land monopoly. it is obvious from the state of the political economy of all europe, that it is by the tightening of this screw that the screw of land slavery is slackened. in our own lifetime we have witnessed in russia two transformations of slavery. when the serfs were liberated, and their landlords retained the right to the greater part of the soil, the landlords were afraid they would lose their power; but experience has shown that having let go the whole chain of personal slavery, they had only to seize another,--that of the land. a peasant was short of corn; he had not enough to live on. the landlord had land and stores of corn: and therefore the peasant still remained the same slave. another transformation was caused by the government screw of taxation being pressed home. the majority of working-people, having no stores, were obliged to sell themselves to their landlords and to the factories. this new form of oppression held the people still tighter, so that nine-tenths of the russian working-people are still working for their landlords and in the factories to pay these taxes. this is so obvious, that, if the government were to remit taxation for one year only, all labour would be stopped in the fields of the landlords, and in the factories. nine-tenths of the russian people hire themselves out during and before the collection of taxes. all these three methods have never ceased to operate, and are still in operation, but people are inclined to ignore them or to invent new excuses for them. and, what is most remarkable of all is, that the very means on which everything is based, that screw which is screwed up tighter than all others, which holds everything at the moment in question, is not noticed so long as it holds. when in the ancient world the entire economical order was upheld by personal slavery, the greatest intellects did not notice it. to plato, as well as to xenophon, and aristotle, and to the romans, it seemed that it could not be otherwise, and that slavery was an unavoidable and natural result of wars, without which the existence of mankind was inconceivable. similarly, in the middle ages, and till recently, people did not apprehend the meaning of land-ownership, on which depended the entire economical organization of their time. so also, at present, no one sees or wants to see, that in our time the slavery of the majority of the people depends on taxes collected by the government from its own land slaves, taxes collected _by administration and the troops_,--by the very same troops which are maintained by these taxes. chapter xxi no wonder that the slaves themselves, who have always been enslaved, do not understand their own position, and that this condition in which they have always lived is considered by them to be natural to human life, and that they hail as a relief any change in their form of slavery; no wonder that their owners sometimes quite sincerely think they are, in a measure, freeing the slaves by slacking one screw, though they are compelled to do so by the over-tension of another. both become accustomed to their state; and the slaves, never having known what freedom is, merely seek an alleviation, or only the change of their condition; the other, the owners, wishing to mask their injustice, try to assign a particular meaning to those new forms of slavery which they enforce in place of the older ones. but it is wonderful how the majority of the critics of the economic conditions of the life of the people fail to see that which forms the basis of the entire economic conditions of a people. one would think the duty of a true science would be to try to ascertain the connection of the phenomena and general cause of a series of occurrences. but the majority of the representatives of modern political economy are doing just the reverse of this: they carefully hide the connection and meaning of the phenomena, and avoid answering the most simple and essential questions. modern political economy, like an idle, lazy cart-horse, goes well only down-hill, when it has no collar-work; but as soon as it has anything to draw, it at once refuses, pretending it has to go somewhere aside after its own business. when any grave, essential question is put to political economy, scientific discussions are started about some other matter having only in view to divert attention from this subject. you ask, "how are we to account for a fact so unnatural, monstrous, unreasonable, and not useless only, but harmful, that some men can eat or work only according to the will of other men?" you are gravely answered, "because some men must arrange the labour and feeding of others, such is the law of production." you ask, "what is this property-right which allows some men to appropriate to themselves the land, food, and instruments of labour belonging to others?" you are again gravely answered, "this right is based upon the protection of labour,"--that is, the protection of some men's labour is effected by taking possession of the labour of other men. you ask, "what is that money which is everywhere coined and stamped by the governments, by the authorities, and which is so exorbitantly demanded from the working-people, and which in the shape of national debts is levied upon the future generations of workingmen? further, has not this money, demanded from the people in the shape of taxes which are raised to the utmost pitch, has not this money any influence on the economic relationships of men,--between the payers and the receivers?" and you are answered in all seriousness, "money is an article of merchandise like sugar, or chintz; and it differs from other articles only in the fact that it is more convenient for exchange." as for the influence of taxes on the economic conditions of a people, it is a different question altogether: the laws of production, exchange, and distribution of wealth, are one thing, but taxation is quite another. you ask whether it has any influence on the economic conditions of a people that the government can arbitrarily raise or lower prices, and, having increased the taxes, can make slaves of all who have no land? the pompous answer is, "the laws of production, exchange, and distribution of wealth constitute one science,--political economy; and taxes, and, generally speaking, state economy, come under another head,--the law of finance." you ask finally, "is no influence exercised on economic conditions by the circumstance that all the people are in bondage to the government, and that this government can arbitrarily ruin them all, can take away all the products of their labour, and even carry the men themselves away from their work into military slavery?" you are answered, "this is altogether a different question, belonging to the state law." the majority of the representatives of science discuss quite seriously the laws of the economic life of a people, while all the functions and activities of this life are dependent on the will of the oppressor. whilst they recognize the influence of the oppressor as a natural condition of a nation's life, they do just what a critic of the economic conditions of the life of the personal slaves of different masters would do, were he to omit to consider the influence exercised on the life of these slaves by the will of that master who compels them to work on this or that thing and drives them from one place to another according to his pleasure, who feeds them or neglects to do so, who kills them or leaves them alive. a noxious superstition has been long in existence and still survives,--a superstition which has done more harm to men than the most terrible religious superstitions. and so-called science supports this superstition with all its power, and with the utmost zeal. this superstition exactly resembles religious superstitions. it consists in affirming that, besides the duties of man to man, there are still more important duties towards an imaginary being,--which the theologians call god, and the political scientists the state. the religious superstition consists in affirming that sacrifices, even of human lives, must be offered to this imaginary being, and that they can and ought to be enforced by every means, even by violence. the political superstition consists in the belief that, besides the duties of man to man, there are still more important duties to an imaginary being, the state; and the offerings,--often of human lives,--brought to this imaginary being are also essential, and can and ought to be enforced by every means, even by violence. this superstition it is, formerly encouraged by the priests of different religions, which is now sustained by so-called science. men are thrown into slavery, into the most terrible slavery, worse than has ever before existed; but political science tries to persuade men that it is necessary and unavoidable. the state must exist for the welfare of the people, and it must do its duty, to rule and protect them from their enemies. for this purpose the state needs money and troops. money must be subscribed by all the citizens of the state. and hence all the relations of men must be considered in the light of the existence of the state. "i want to help my father by my labour," says a common unlearned man. "i want also to marry; but instead, i am taken and sent to kazan, to be a soldier for six years. i leave the military service, i want to plough the ground to earn food and drink for my family; but i am not allowed to plough for a hundred versts around me unless i pay money, which i have not got, and pay it to those men who do not know how to plough, and who demand for the land so much money that i must give them all my labour to procure it: however, i still manage to save something, and wish to give this to my children; but a police official comes and takes from me all i had saved, for taxes: i can earn a little more, and again i am deprived of it. my entire economic activity is at the mercy of state demands; and it seems to me that my position and that of my brethren, will certainly improve if we are liberated from the demands of the state." but he is told, "such reasoning is the result of your ignorance. study the laws of production, exchange, and distribution of wealth, and do not mix up economical questions with those of the state. the phenomena which you point to are no restraints on your freedom; they are the necessary sacrifices which you, along with others, must make for your own freedom and welfare." "but my son has been taken away from me," says again a common man; "and they threaten to take away all my sons as soon as they are grown up: they took him away by force, and drove him to face the enemy's guns in some country which we have never heard of, and for an object which we cannot understand. "and as for the land which they will not allow us to plough, and for want of which we are starving, it belongs to a man who got possession of it by force, and whom we have never seen, and whose usefulness we cannot even understand. and the taxes, to collect which the police official has by force taken my cow from my children, will, so far as i know, go to this same man who took my cow away, and to various members of the committees and of departments which i do not know of, and in the utility of which i do not believe. how is it, then, that all these acts of violence secure my liberty, and all this evil procures good?" you may compel a man to be a slave and to do that which he considers to be evil for himself, but you cannot compel him to think, that, in suffering violence, he is free, and that the obvious evil which he endures constitutes his good. this appears impossible. yet by the help of science this very thing has been done in our time. the state, that is, the armed oppressors, decide what they want from those whom they oppress (as in the case of england and the fiji-islanders): they decide how much labour they want from their slaves,--they decide how many assistants they will need in collecting the fruits of this labour; they organize their assistants in the shape of soldiers, land-owners, and collectors of taxes. and the slaves give their labour, and, at the same time, believe that they give it, not because their masters demand it, but for the sake of their own freedom and welfare; and that this service and these bloody sacrifices to the divinity called the state are necessary, and that, except this service to their deity, they are free. they believe this because the same had been formerly said in the name of religion by the priests, and is now said in the name of so-called science, by learned men. but one need only cease to believe what is said by these other men who call themselves priests or learned men, for the absurdity of such an assertion to become obvious. the men who oppress others assure them that this oppression is necessary for the state,--and the state is necessary for the freedom and welfare of men; so that it appears that the oppressors oppress men for the sake of their freedom, and do them evil for the sake of good. but men are furnished with reason so that they may understand wherein consists their own good, and do it willingly. as for the acts, the goodness of which is not intelligible to men, and to which they are compelled by force, these cannot be for their good, because a reasoning being can consider as good only the thing which appears so to his reason. if men are driven to evil through passion or folly, all that those who are not so driven can do is to persuade the others into what constitutes their real good. you may try to persuade men that their welfare will be greater when they are all soldiers, are deprived of land, and have given their entire labour away for taxes; but until all men consider this condition to be welfare, and undertake it willingly, one cannot call such a state of things the common welfare of men. the sole criterion of a good conception is its willing acceptance by men. and the lives of men abound with such acts. ten workmen buy tools in common, in order to work together with them, and in so doing they are undoubtedly benefitting themselves; but we cannot suppose that if these ten workmen were to compel an eleventh, by force, to join in their association, they would insist that their common welfare will be the same for him. so with gentlemen who agree to give a subscription dinner at a pound a head to a mutual friend; no one can assert that such a dinner will benefit a man who, against his will, has been obliged to pay a sovereign for it. and so with peasants who decide, for their common convenience, to dig a pond. to those who consider the existence of a pond more valuable than the labour spent on it, digging it will be a common good. but to the one who considers the pond of less value than a day's harvesting in which he is behind-hand, digging it will appear evil. the same holds good with roads, churches, and museums, and with all various social and state affairs. all such work may be good for those who consider it good, and who therefore freely and willingly perform it,--the dinner which the gentlemen give, the pond which the peasants dig. but work to which men must be driven by force ceases to be a common good precisely by the fact of such violence. all this is so plain and simple, that, if men had not been so long deceived, there would be no need to explain it. suppose we live in a village where all the inhabitants have agreed to build a road over a swamp which is a danger to them. we agree together, and each house promises to give so much money or wood or days of labour. we agree to this because the making of the road is more advantageous to us than what we exchange for it; but among us there are some for whom it is more advantageous to do without a road than to spend money on it, or who at all events think so. can compelling these men to labour make it of advantage to them? obviously not; because those who considered that their choosing to join in making the way would have been disadvantageous, will consider it _a fortiori_ still more disadvantageous when they are _compelled_ to do so. suppose, even, that we all, without exception, were agreed, and promised so much money or labour from each house, but that it happened that some of those who had promised did not give what they agreed, their circumstances having meanwhile changed, so that it was more advantageous for such now to be without the road than to spend money on it; or that they have simply changed their mind about it; or even calculate that others will make the road without them and that they will then use it. can coercing these men to join in the labour make them consider that the sacrifices are enforced for their own good? obviously not; because, if these men have not fulfilled what they promised, owing to a change in circumstances, so that now the sacrifices for the sake of the road outbalance their gain by it, the compulsory sacrifices of such would be only a worse evil. but if those who refuse to join in building the road intend to utilize the labour of the others, then in this case also coercing them into making a sacrifice would be only a punishment on a supposition, and their object, which nobody can prove, will be punished before it is made apparent; but in neither case can coercing them to join in a work which they do not desire be good for them. if this is so with sacrifices for a work which every one can comprehend, obvious, and undoubtedly useful to everyone, such as a road over a swamp; how still more unjust and unreasonable is it to coerce millions of men into making sacrifices for objects which are incomprehensible, imperceptible, and often undoubtedly harmful, such as military service and taxation. but, according to science, what appears to every one to be an evil is a common good: it appears that there are men, a small minority, who alone know of what the common good consists, and, notwithstanding the fact that all other men consider this good to be an evil, this minority can compel the others to do whatever they may consider to be for the common good. and it is this belief which constitutes the chief superstition and the chief deceit and hinders the progress of mankind towards the true and the good. to nurse this superstitious deceit has been the object of political sciences in general, and of so-called "political economy" in particular. many are making use of its aims in order to hide from men the state of oppression and slavery in which they now are. the way they set about doing so is by starting the theory that the violence connected with the economy of social slavery is a natural and unavoidable evil; and men thereby are deceived and turn their eyes from the real causes of their misfortunes. slavery has long been abolished. it has been abolished in rome as well as in america, and in russia; but only the word has been abolished,--not the evil. slavery is the violent freeing of some men from the labour necessary for satisfying their wants, which transfers this labour to others; and wherever there is a man who does not work, not because others willingly and lovingly work for him, but because he has the possibility, while not working himself, to make others work for him, there slavery exists. wherever there are, as in all european societies, men who utilize the labour of thousands of others by coercion, and consider such to be their right, and others who submit to this coercion considering it to be their duty,--there you have slavery in its most dreadful proportions. slavery exists. in what, then, does it consist? slavery consists of that of which it has always consisted, and without which it cannot exist at all,--in the coercion of a weak and unarmed man by a strong and armed man. slavery in its three fundamental modes of operation,--personal violence, the military, land-taxes,--maintained by the military, and direct and indirect taxes put upon all the inhabitants, is still in operation now as it has been before. we do not see it because each of these three forms of slavery has received a new justification, which hides its meaning from us. the personal violence of armed over unarmed men has been justified as the defence of one's country from imaginary enemies,--while in its essence it has the one old meaning, the submission of the conquered to the oppressors. the violent seizure of the labourers' land has been justified as the recompense for services rendered to an imaginary common welfare, and confirmed by the right of heritage; but in reality it is the same dispossession of men from their land and enslaving them which was performed by the troops. and the last, the monetary violence by means of taxes, the strongest and most effective in our days, has received a most wonderful justification. dispossessing men of their liberty and their goods is said to be done for the sake of the common liberty and of the common welfare. but in fact it is the same slavery, only an impersonal one. wherever violence becomes law, there is slavery. whether violence finds its expression in the circumstance that princes with their courtiers come, kill, and burn down villages; whether slave-owners take labour or money for the land from their slaves, and enforce payment by means of armed men, or by putting taxes on others, and riding armed to and fro in the villages; or whether a home department collects money through governors or police sergeants,--in one word, as long as violence is maintained by the bayonet,--there will be no distribution of wealth, but it will be accumulated among the oppressors. as a striking illustration of the truth of this assertion the project of henry george to nationalize the land may serve us. henry george proposes to declare all land the property of the state, and to substitute a land-rent for all taxes, direct and indirect. that is, everyone who utilizes the land would have to pay to the state the value of its rent. what would be the result? the land would belong to the state,--english land to england, american land to america, and so on; that is, there would be slavery, determined by the quantity of cultivated land. it might be that the condition of some labourers would improve; but while a forcible demand for rent remained, the slavery would remain too. the cultivator, after a bad harvest, being unable to pay the rent exacted of him by force, would be obliged to enslave himself to any one who happened to have the money in order not to lose everything and to retain the land. if a pail leaks, there must be a hole. looking at the pail, we might imagine the water runs from many holes; but no matter how we might try to stop the imaginary holes from without, the water would not cease running. in order to put a stop to the leakage we must find the place from which water runs, and stop it from the inside. the same holds good with the proposed means of stopping the irregular distribution of wealth,--the holes through which the wealth runs away from the people. it is said, _organize workmen's corporations, make capital social property, make land social property_. all this is only mere stopping from the outside those holes from which we fancy the water runs. in order to stop the wealth going from the hands of the workers to those of the non-workers, it is necessary to try to find from the inside the hole through which this leakage takes place. and this hole is the violence of armed men towards unarmed men, the violence of troops, by means of which men are carried away from their labour, and the land, and the products of labour, taken from them. so long as there is one armed man, whoever he may be, with the acknowledged right to kill another man, so long will there also exist an unjust distribution of wealth,--in other words, slavery. i was led into the error that i can help others by the fact that i imagined my money was as good as semion's. but it was not so. the general opinion is that money represents wealth; that wealth is the result of work and therefore that money represents work. this opinion is as just as the opinion asserting that every form of state is the result of a contract (contrat social). all men like to believe that money is only a means of exchange of labour. i have made boots, you have made bread, he has fed sheep; now, in order to exchange our wares the more conveniently, we introduce money, which represents the corresponding share of labour, and through it we exchange leather soles for a mutton brisket and ten pounds of flour. by means of money we exchange our products and this money, belonging to each of us, represents our labour. this is perfectly true, but true only while in the community, where this exchange takes place, violence of one man towards another did not appear, violence not only over another man's labour, as happens in war and in slavery, but not even violence applied to defend the products of labour of one man against another. this could be only in a community whose members entirely fulfil the christian law,--in a community where one gets what he demands and where one is not requested to return what he gets. but as soon as violence in any form is applied in the community, the meaning of money for its owner at once loses its significance as a representative of labour, and acquires the significance of a right, based not on labour, but on violence. as soon as there is war and one man has taken away something from another, then money cannot always represent labour; the money received by the soldier for the booty he has sold, as well as the money got by his superior, is by no means the produce of their work and has quite a different meaning from the money received for the labour resulting in boots. when there are slave-owners and slaves, as have been always in the world, then one cannot assert that money represents labour. the women have woven a quantity of linen, have sold it and received money; the serfs have woven some linen for their master, and the master has sold it and received money. the one and the other money are the same; but one is the product of labour and the other is the product of violence. likewise, if somebody,--say my father,--made me a present of money and he, when giving it to me, knew, and i knew and everybody knew, that no one can take this money away from me, that if anybody tried to take it, or even merely failed to return it at the date promised, then the authorities would defend me and by force compel the man to return me this money,--then again it is evident that by no means can this money be called a representative of labour, like the money which semion got for cutting wood. thus in a community, where by some kind of violence somebody's money is taken possession of, or the ownership of somebody's money defended against others--there money cannot always represent labour. it represents in such a community sometimes labour, sometimes violence. so it would be if only one fact of violence of one man over another appeared in the midst of perfectly free relations; but now, when the accumulated money has passed through centuries of most various forms of violence, when these acts of violence continue under other forms; when money itself by its accumulation creates violence,--which is recognized by everybody,--when the direct products of labour constitute only a small part of money made up of all sorts of violence,--to assert now that money represents the work of its owner is an obvious error, or an open lie. one may say it ought to be so, one may say it is desirable that it should be so, but by no means can any one say that it is so. money represents labour. yes; money represents labour, but whose labour? in our society it is only in the rarest cases that money represents the work of its owner. almost always it represents the labour of other men,--the past or future labours of men. it is the representative of a claim on the labour of other men by force of violence. money, in its most exact and at the same time its simplest definition, represents conventional signs, which bestow the right,--or rather the possibility,--to use the work of other men. in its ideal meaning, money ought to give this right or possibility only when it serves itself as a representative of labour, and as such, money could exist in a society devoid of any kind of violence. but as soon as violence takes place in a society, i.e., the possibility of the utilizing of the labour of others by the idler,--then this possibility of using the labour of others, without defining persons over which this violence is committed, is also exercised in money. the landowner taxed his serfs by a contribution in kind, making them bring a certain quantity of linen, corn, cattle, or a corresponding amount of money. one household delivered the cattle, but the linens were replaced by money. the landowner accepts the money in a certain quantity, only because he knows that for this money he can get the same pieces of linen (generally he takes a little more money to be sure that he will receive for it the same quantity of linen), and this money evidently offers for the landowner lien on other men's labour. the peasant gives money as a security against persons unknown but numerous, who would undertake to work out so much linen for this money. those who will undertake to work the linen will do it because they did not succeed in feeding the sheep, and for these they must pay in money; and the peasant who will get the money for the sheep will take it, only because he must pay for the corn, which was a failure that year. the same goes on in the state and all over the world. a man sells the produce of his past, present or future labour, sometimes his food-stuff, not mostly because money is a convenient exchange for him,--he would exchange without money,--but because he is required by means of violence to give money, as a security on his work. when pharaoh has demanded the labour of his slaves, then the slaves have given him all their labour, but they could give only the past and present labour, and could not give that of the future. but with the spread of money tokens and their result of "credit" it becomes possible to give also one's future work for money. money, with the existence of violence in society, offers the means for a new form of impersonal slavery, which replaces the personal one. a slave-owner claims a right to the work of peter, iván, sidor. but wherever money is required from everybody, the owner of money acquires a claim on the labour of all those unknown people who are in need of money. money removes the painful side of slavery, by which the owner knows about his right on iván, at the same time it removes all those human relations between the owner and the slave, which softened down the burden of personal slavery. i will not dwell on the theory that perhaps such a state is necessary for the development of mankind, for its progress and so forth--i will not dispute it. i only strive to make clear to myself the conception of money and to discover the general misconception i have made in accepting money, as a representative of labour. i became convinced by experience that money is not a representative of labour, but in the great majority of cases is a representative of violence, or of specially complex artifices founded on violence. money in our time has already altogether lost the desirable significance of being the representative of labour; such significance it may have in exceptional cases, but as a rule it has become the right or the possibility of using the labour of others. this spreading of money, of credit and different conventional signs, more and more confirm this meaning of money. money is the possibility or the right to use the labours of others. money is a new form of slavery differing from the old form of slavery only by its impersonality, by the freedom it gives from all human relations to the slave. money is money, a value always equal to itself, and which is always considered quite correct and lawful, and the use of which is not considered immoral, as slavery was. in my young days a game of lotto was introduced in the clubs. all eagerly played the game and, as was said, many lost their fortunes, ruined their families, lost money entrusted to them, and government funds, and finally shot themselves, so that the game was forbidden and is still forbidden. i remember i have met old, hardened card players who told me that this game was especially fascinating, because one did not know whom one was to beat, as is the case in other games; the attendant does not even serve one with money, but with counters, everybody loses a small stake and does not betray grief. it is the same in roulette, which is rightly forbidden everywhere. so it is with money. i have a magical, everlasting ruble; i cut off coupons and live apart from all the affairs of the world. whom do i harm? i am the most quiet and kind-hearted man. but this is only a game of lotto or roulette where i do not see the man, who shoots himself after having lost, and who provides for me these small coupons, which i carefully cut off under the right angle from the tickets. i have done nothing, i am doing nothing, and never will do anything, save cut off the coupons, and firmly believe that money represents labour. this is really astounding! and people talk of lunatics! but what mania could be more horrible than this? an intelligent, learned, and in all other respects sensible man lives madly, and soothes himself by not acknowledging that one thing which he should acknowledge to make his argument reasonable, and he considers himself in the right! the coupons are representatives of labour! of labour! yes, but of whose labour? not of his, who owns them, evidently, but of the one who works. money is the same as slavery; its aim is the same and its consequences are the same. its aim is the freeing of some men from the original law, truly called so by a thoughtful writer of the working-classes, from the natural law of life, as we call it, from the law of personal labour for the satisfaction of one's needs. the consequences of the slavery for the owner: the begetting, the invention of infinitely more and more needs never to be satisfied, of effeminate wretchedness and of depravity, and for the slaves,--oppression of the man, and his lowering to the level of a beast. money is a new and terrible form of slavery and, like the old form of personal slavery, it equally demoralises the slave and the slave-owner, but it is so much worse, because it frees the slave and the slave-owner from personal human relations. chapter xxii i always wonder at the often repeated words, "yes, it is all true in theory, but how is it in practice?" as though the theory were only a collection of words useful for conversation, and not as though all practice,--that is, all activity of life--were inevitably based upon it. there must have been an immense number of foolish theories in the world for men to employ such wonderful reasoning. we know that theory is what a man thinks about a thing, and practice is what he does. how can a man think that he ought to act in one way, and then do quite the reverse? if the theory of baking bread consists in this, that first of all one must knead the dough, then put it by to rise, anyone knowing it would be a fool to do the reverse. but with us it has come into fashion to say, "it is all very well in theory, but how would it be in practice?" in all that has occupied me practice has unavoidably followed theory, not mainly in order to justify it, but because it could not help doing so: if i have understood the affair upon which i have meditated i cannot help doing it in the way in which i have understood it. i wished to help the needy only because i had money to spare: and i shared the general superstition that money represents labour, and, generally speaking, is something lawful and good in itself. but, having begun to give this money away, i saw that i was only drawing bills of exchange collected from poor people; that i was doing the very thing the old landlords used to do in compelling some of their serfs to work for other serfs. i saw that every use of money, whether buying anything with it, or giving it away gratis, is a drawing of bills of exchange on poor people, or passing them to others to be drawn by them. and therefore i clearly understood the foolishness of what i was doing in helping the poor by exacting money from them. i saw that money in itself was not only not a good thing, but obviously an evil one, depriving men of their chief good, labour, and that this very good i cannot give to anyone because i am myself deprived of it: i have neither labour nor the happiness of utilizing my labour. it might be asked by some, "what is there so peculiarly important in abstractly discussing the meaning of money?" but this argument which i have opened is not merely for the sake of discussion, but in order to find an answer to the vital question which had caused me so much suffering, and on which my life depended, in order to discover what i was to do. as soon as i understood what wealth means, what money means, then it became clear and certain what i have to do, it became clear and certain what all others have to do,--and that they will inevitably do it, what all men must do. in reality i merely came to realize what i have long known,--that truth which has been transmitted to men from the oldest times, by buddha, by isaiah, by laotse, by socrates, and most clearly and definitely by jesus and his predecessor john the baptist. john the baptist, in answer to men's question "what shall we do then?" answered plainly and briefly, "he that hath two coats, let him impart to him that hath none; and he that hath meat, let him do likewise" (luke iii., , ). the same thing, and with still greater clearness, said jesus,--blessing the poor, and uttering woes on the rich. he said that no man can serve god and mammon. he forbade his disciples not only to take money, but also to have two coats. he said to the rich young man that he could not enter into the kingdom of god because he was rich, and that it is easier for a camel to go through the needle's eye than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of god. he said that he who would not leave every thing--his houses and children and his fields--in order to follow him, was not his disciple. he spoke a parable about a rich man who had done nothing wrong (like our own rich people), but merely dressed well and ate and drank well, yet by this lost his own soul; and about a beggar named lazarus, who had done nothing good, but who had saved his soul by his beggar's life. this truth had long been known to me; but the false teaching of the world had so cunningly hidden it that it became a theory in the sense which men like to attach to this word,--that is, a pure abstraction. but as soon as i succeeded in pulling down in my consciousness the sophistry of the world's teaching, then theory became one with practice and the reality of my life and the life of all men became its unavoidable result. i came to understand that man, besides living for his own good, must work for the good of others; and that if we were to draw our comparison from the world of animals, as some men are so fond of doing in justifying violence and contest by the law of the struggle for existence, we must take this comparison from the lives of social animals like bees; and therefore man, to say nothing of that love to his neighbours which is incumbent on him, is called upon to serve his fellows and their common object, as much by reason as by his very nature. i understood that this is the natural law of man, by fulfilling which he can alone fulfil his calling and therefore be happy. i understood that this law has been and is being violated by the fact that men (as robber-bees do) free themselves from labour by violence, and utilize the labour of others, using this labour not for the common purpose but for the personal satisfaction of their constantly increasing lusts, and also, like robber-bees, they perish thereby. i understood that the misfortune of men comes from the slavery in which some men are kept by others; and i understood that this slavery is brought about in our days by military force, violence, by the appropriation of land, and by the exaction of money. and, having understood the meaning of all these three instruments of modern slavery, i could not help desiring to free myself from any share in it. when i was a landlord, possessing serfs, and came to understand the immorality of such a position, i, along with other men who had understood the same thing, tried to free myself from it. and i freed myself from this state thus. finding it immoral, but not being able as yet to free myself wholly from it, i tried meanwhile to assert my rights as a serf-owner as little as possible. i cannot help doing the same now with reference to the present slavery--that is, i try as little as possible to assert my claims while i am unable to free myself from the power which gives me land-ownership, and from money raised by the violence of military force--and at the same time by all means in my power to suggest to other men the unlawfulness and inhumanity of these imaginary rights. the share in enslaving men consists, on the standpoint of a slave-owner, in utilizing the labour of others. (it is all the same whether the enslaving is based on a claim to the person of the slave or on the possession of land or money.) and, therefore, if a man really does not like slavery and does not desire to be a partaker in it, the first thing which he must do is this: neither take men's labour by serving the government, nor possess land or money. the refusal of all the means in use for taking another's labour will unavoidably bring such a man to the necessity of lessening his wants on the one hand, and, on the other, of doing himself what formerly was done for him by other men. this simple and unavoidable conclusion enters into every detail of my life, changes it entirely, and at once sets me free from the moral sufferings i had endured at the sight of the misery and wickedness of men. the first cause was the accumulation of people in towns, and the absorption there of the products of the country. all that a man needs is not to desire to take another's labour by serving the government and possessing land and money, and then, according to his strength and ability, to satisfy unaided his own wants. the idea of leaving his village would never enter the mind of such a man, because in the country it is easier for him to satisfy his wants personally, while in a town everything is the product of the labour of others, all must be bought; in the country a man will always be able to help the needy, and will not experience that feeling of being useless, which i felt in the town when i wanted to help men, not with my own, but with other men's labours. the second cause was the estrangement between the poor and the rich. a man need only not desire to profit by other men's labour by serving the government and possessing land and money, and he would be compelled to satisfy his wants himself, and at once involuntarily that barrier would be pushed down which separates him from the working-people, and he would be one with the people, standing shoulder to shoulder with them, and seeing the possibility of helping them. the third cause was shame, based on the consciousness of the immorality of possessing money with which i wanted to help others. a man need only not desire to profit by another man's labour by serving the government and possessing land and money, and he will never have that superfluous "fool's money," the fact of possessing which made those who wanted money ask me for pecuniary assistance which i was not able to satisfy, and called forth in me the consciousness of my unrighteousness. chapter xxiii i saw that the cause of the sufferings and depravity of men lies in the fact that some men are in bondage to others; and therefore i came to the obvious conclusion that if i want to help men i have first of all to leave off causing those very misfortunes which i want to remedy,--in other words, i must not share in the enslaving of men. i was led to the enslaving of men by the circumstance that from my infancy i had been accustomed not to work, but to profit by the labour of others, and that i had been living in a society which is not only accustomed to this slavery but which justifies it by all kinds of sophistry, clever and foolish. i came to the following simple conclusion, that, in order to avoid causing the sufferings and depravity of men, i ought to make other men work for me as little as possible and to work myself as much as possible. it was by this roundabout way that i arrived at the inevitable conclusion to which the chinese arrived some thousand years ago, and which they express thus: "if there is one idle man, there must be another who is starving." i came to this simple and natural conclusion, that if i pity the exhausted horse on whose back i ride the first thing for me to do if i really pity him is to get off his back and walk. this answer, which gives such complete satisfaction to the moral sense, had always been before my eyes, as it is before the eyes of every one, but we do not all see it, and look aside. in seeking to heal our social diseases we look everywhere,--to the governmental, anti-governmental, scientific, and philanthropic superstitions,--and yet we do not see that which meets the eyes of every one. we fill our drains with filth and require other men to clean them, and pretend to be very sorry for them and want to ease their work; and we invent all sorts of devices except one, the simplest; namely, that we should ourselves remove our slops so long as we find it necessary to produce them in our rooms. for him who really suffers from the sufferings of the other men surrounding him, there exists a most clear, simple, and easy means, the only one sufficient to heal this evil and to confer a sense of the lawfulness of one's life. this means is that which john the baptist recommended when he answered the question, "what shall we do then?" and which was confirmed by christ: not to have more than one coat, and not to possess money,--that is, not to profit by another man's labour. and in order not to profit by another's labour, we must do with our own hands all that we can do. this is so plain and simple! but it is plain and simple and clear only when our wants are also plain, and when we ourselves are still sound and not corrupted to the backbone by idleness and laziness. i live in a village, lie by the stove, and tell my neighbour, who is my debtor, to chop wood and light the stove. it is obvious that i am lazy and take my neighbour away from his own work; and at last i feel ashamed of it; and besides, it grows dull for me to be always lying down when my muscles are strong and accustomed to work,--and i go to chop the wood myself. but slavery of all kinds has been going on so long, so many artificial wants have grown about it, so many people with different degrees of familiarity with these wants are interwoven with one another, through so many generations men have been spoiled and made effeminate, such complicated temptations and justifications of luxury and idleness have been invented by men, that for one who stands on the top of the pyramid of idle men, it is not at all so easy to understand his sin as it is for the peasant who compels his neighbour to light his stove. men who stand at the top find it most difficult to understand what is required of them. from the height of the structure of lies on which they stand they become giddy when they look at that spot on the earth to which they must descend in order to begin to live, not righteously, but only not quite inhumanly; and that is why this plain and clear truth appears to these men so strange. a man who employs ten servants in livery, coachmen and cooks, who has pictures and pianos, must certainly regard as strange and even ridiculous the simple preliminary duty of, i do not say a good man, but of every man who is not an animal, to hew that wood with which his food is cooked and by which he is warmed; to clean those boots in which he carelessly stepped into the mud; to bring that water with which he keeps himself clean; and to carry away those slops in which he has washed himself. but besides the estrangement of men from the truth, there is another cause which hinders them from seeing the duty of doing the most simple and natural physical work; that is the complication and intermingling of the conditions in which a rich man lives. this morning i entered the corridor in which the stoves are heated. a peasant was heating the stove which warmed my son's room. i entered his bedroom: he was asleep, and it was eleven o'clock in the morning. the excuse was, "to-day is a holiday; no lessons." a stout lad of eighteen years of age, having over-eaten himself the previous night, is sleeping until eleven o'clock; and a peasant of his own age, who had already that morning done a quantity of work, was now lighting the tenth stove. "it would be better, perhaps, if the peasant did not light the stove to warm this stout, lazy fellow!" thought i; but i remembered at once that this stove also warmed the room of our housekeeper, a woman of forty years of age, who had been working the night before till three o'clock in the morning to prepare everything for the supper which my son ate; and then she put away the dishes, and, notwithstanding this, got up at seven. she cannot heat the stove herself: she has no time for that. the peasant is heating the stove for her, too. and under her name my lazy fellow was being warmed. true, the advantages are all interwoven; but without much consideration the conscience of each will say, on whose side is the labour, and on whose the idleness? but not only does conscience tell this, the account-book also tells it: the more money one spends, the more people work for us. the less one spends, the more one works one's self. "my luxurious life gives means of living to others. where should my old footman go, if i were to discharge him?" "what! every one must do everything for himself? make his coat as well as hew his wood? and how about division of labour? and industry and social undertakings?" and, last of all, come the most horrible of words,--civilization, science, art! chapter xxiv last march i was returning home late in the evening. on turning into a bye-lane i perceived on the snow in a distant field some black shadows. i should not have noticed this but for the policeman who stood at the end of the lane and cried in the direction of the shadows, "vasili, why don't you come along?" "she won't move," answered a voice; and thereupon the shadows came towards the policeman. i stopped and asked him,-- "what is the matter?" he said, "we have got some girls from rzhanoff's house, and are taking them to the police-station; and one of them lags behind, and won't come along." a night-watchman in sheepskin coat appeared now driving on a girl who slouched along while he prodded her from behind. i, the watchman and the policeman, were wearing winter coats: she alone had none, having only her gown on. in the dark i could distinguish only a brown dress and a kerchief round her head and neck. she was short, like most starvelings, and had a broad, clumsy figure. "we aren't going to stay here all night for you, you hag! get on, or i'll give it you!" shouted the policeman. he was evidently fatigued and tired of her. she walked some paces and stopped again. the old watchman, a good-natured man (i knew him), pulled her by the hand. "i'll wake you up! come along!" said he, pretending to be angry. she staggered, and began to speak with a croaking hoarse voice, "let me be; don't you push. i'll get on myself." "you'll be frozen to death," he returned. "a girl like me won't be frozen: i've lots of hot blood." she meant it as a joke, but her words sounded like a curse. by a lamp, which stood not far from the gate of my house, she stopped again, leaned back against the paling, and began to seek for something among her petticoats with awkward, frozen hands. they again shouted to her; but she only muttered and continued searching. she held in one hand a crumpled cigarette and matches in the other. i remained behind her: i was ashamed to pass by or to stay and look at her. but i made up my mind and came up to her. she leaned with her shoulder against the paling and vainly tried to light a match on it. i looked narrowly at her face. she was indeed a starveling and appeared to me to be a woman of about thirty. her complexion was dirty; her eyes small, dim, and bleared with drinking; she had a squat nose; her lips were wry and slavering, with downcast angles; from under her kerchief fell a tuft of dry hair. her figure was long and flat; her arms and legs short. i stopped in front of her. she looked at me and grinned as if she knew all that i was thinking about. i felt that i ought to say something to her. i wanted to show her that i pitied her. "have you parents?" i asked. she laughed hoarsely, then suddenly stopped, and, lifting her brows, began to look at me steadfastly. "have you parents?" i repeated. she smiled with a grimace which seemed to say, "what a question for him to put!" "i have a mother," she said at last; "but what's that to you?" "and how old are you?" "i am over fifteen," she said, at once answering a question she was accustomed to hear. "come, come! go on; we shall all be frozen for you, the deuce take you!" shouted the policeman; and she edged off from the paling and staggered along the lane to the police-station: and i turned to the gate and entered my house, and asked whether my daughters were at home. i was told that they had been to an evening party, had enjoyed themselves much, and now were asleep. the next morning i was about to go to the police-station to enquire what had become of this unhappy girl. i was ready to start early enough, when one of those unfortunate men called, who from weakness have dropped out of the gentlemanly line of life to which they have been accustomed, and who rise and fall by turns. i had been acquainted with him three years. during this time he had several times sold every thing he had,--even his clothes; and, having just done so again, he passed his nights temporarily in rzhanoff's house, and his days at my lodgings. he met me as i was going out, and, without listening to me, began at once to relate what had happened at rzhanoff's house the night before. he began to relate it, yet had not got through one-half when, all of a sudden, he, an old man, who had gone through much in his life, began to sob, and, ceasing to speak, turned his face away from me. this was what he related. i ascertained the truth of his story on the spot, where i learned some new particulars, which i shall relate too. a washerwoman thirty years of age, fair, quiet, good-looking, but delicate, passed her nights in the same lodging-house, the ground-floor of no.  where my friend slept among various shifting night-lodgers, men and women, who for five kopeks slept with each other. the landlady at this lodging was the mistress of a boatman. in summer her lover kept a boat; and in winter they earned their living by letting lodgings to night-lodgers at three kopeks without a pillow, and at five kopeks with one. the washerwoman had been living here some months, and was a quiet woman; but lately they began to object to her because she coughed, and prevented the other lodgers from sleeping. an old woman in particular, eighty years old, half silly, and a permanent inmate of this lodging, began to dislike the washerwoman and kept annoying her because she disturbed her sleep; for all night she coughed like a sheep. the washerwoman said nothing. she owed for rent, and felt herself guilty, and was therefore compelled to endure. she began to work less and less, for her strength failed her; and that was why she was unable to pay her rent. she had not been to work at all the whole of the last week; and she had been making the lives of all, and particularly of the old woman, miserable by her cough. four days ago the landlady gave her notice to leave. she already owed sixty kopeks, and could not pay them, and there was no hope of doing so; and other lodgers complained of her cough. when the landlady gave the washerwoman notice, and told her she must go away if she did not pay the rent, the old woman was glad, and pushed her out into the yard. the washerwoman went away, but came back again in an hour, and the landlady had not the heart to send her away again.... during the second and the third day the landlady left her there. "where shall i go?" she kept saying. on the third day the landlady's lover, a moscow man, who knew all the rules and regulations, went for a policeman. the policeman, with a sword and a pistol slung on a red cord, came into the lodging and quietly and politely turned the washerwoman out into the street. it was a bright, sunny, but frosty day in march. the melting snow ran down in streams, the house-porters were breaking the ice. the hackney sledges bumped on the ice-glazed snow, and creaked over the stones. the washerwoman went up the hill on the sunny side, got to the church, and sat down in the sun at the church-porch. but when the sun began to go down behind the houses and the pools of water began to be covered with a thin sheet of ice, the washerwoman felt chilly and terrified. she got up and slowly walked on.... where? home,--to the only house in which she had been living lately. while she was walking there, several times resting herself, it began to get dark. she approached the gate, turned into it, her foot slipped, she gave a shriek, and fell down. one man passed by, then another. "she must be drunk," they thought. another man passed, and stumbled up against her, and said to the house-porter, "some tipsy woman is lying at the gate. i very nearly broke my neck over her. won't you take her away?" the house-porter came. the washerwoman was dead. this was what my friend related to me. the reader will perhaps fancy i have picked out particular cases in the prostitute of fifteen years of age and the story of this washerwoman; but let him not think so: this really happened in one and the same night. i do not exactly remember the date, only it was in march, . having heard my friend's story i went to the police-station, intending from there to go to rzhanoff's house to learn all the particulars of the washerwoman's story. the weather was fine and sunny; and again under the ice of the previous night, in the shade, you could see the water running; and in the sun, in the square, everything was melting fast. the trees of the garden appeared blue from over the river; the sparrows that were reddish in winter, and unnoticed then, now attracted people's attention by their merriness; men also tried to be merry, but they all had too many cares. the bells of the churches sounded; and blending with them were heard sounds of shooting from the barracks,--the hiss of the rifle balls, and the crack when they struck the target. i entered the police-station. there some armed men--policemen--led me to their chief. he, also armed with a sword, sabre, and pistol, was busy giving some orders about a ragged, trembling old man who was standing before him, and from weakness could not clearly answer what was asked of him. having done with the old man, he turned to me. i inquired about the prostitute of last night. he first listened to me attentively, then he smiled, not only because i did not know why they were taken to the police-station, but more particularly at my astonishment at her youth. "goodness! there are some of twelve, thirteen, and fourteen years of age often," said he, in a lively tone. to my question about the girl of yesterday, he told me that she had probably been already sent to the committee (if i understood him right). to my question where such women passed the night, he gave a vague answer. the one about whom i spoke he did not remember. there were so many of them every day. at rzhanoff's house, in no.  , i already found the sacristan reading prayers over the dead washerwoman. she had been brought in and laid on her former pallet; and the lodgers, all starvelings themselves, contributed money for the prayers, the coffin, and the shroud; the old woman had dressed her, and laid her out. the clerk was reading something in the dark; a woman in a cloak stood holding a wax taper; and with a similar wax taper stood a man (a gentleman, it is fair to state), in a nice great-coat, trimmed with an astrachan collar, in bright goloshes, and with a starched shirt. that was her brother. he had been hunted up. i passed by the dead woman to the landlady's room in order to ask her all the particulars. she was afraid of my questions,--afraid probably of being charged with something; but by and by she grew talkative and told me all. on passing by again, i looked at the dead body. all the dead are beautiful; but this one was particularly beautiful and touching in her coffin, with her clear, pale face, with closed, prominent eyes, sunken cheeks, and fair, soft hair over her high forehead; her face looked weary, but kind, and not sad at all, but rather astonished. and indeed, if the living do not see, the dead may well be astonished. on the day i wrote this there was a great ball in moscow. on the same night i left home after eight o'clock. i live in a locality surrounded by factories; and i left home after the factory whistle had sounded, and when, after a week of incessant work, the people were freed for their holiday. factory-men passed by me, and i by them, all turning their steps to the public-houses and inns. many were already tipsy: many were with women. every morning at five i hear each of the whistles, which means that the labour of women, children, and old people has begun. at eight o'clock another whistle,--this means half an hour's rest; at twelve the third whistle,--this means an hour for dinner. at eight o'clock the fourth whistle, indicating cessation from work. by a strange coincidence, all the three factories in my neighbourhood produce only the articles necessary for balls. in one factory,--the one nearest to me,--they make nothing but stockings; in the other opposite, silk stuffs; in the third, perfumes and pomades. one may, on hearing these whistles, attach to them no other meaning than that of the indication of time. "there, the whistle has sounded: it is time to go out for a walk." but one may associate with them also the meaning they have in reality,--that at the first whistle at five o'clock in the morning, men and women, who have slept side by side in a damp cellar, get up in the dark, and hurry away into the noisy building to take their part in a work of which they see neither cessation nor utility for themselves, and work often so in the heat, in suffocating exhalations, with very rare intervals of rest, for one, two, or three, or even twelve or more hours. they fall asleep, and get up again, and again do this work, meaningless for themselves, to which they are goaded only by want. so it goes on from one week to another, interrupted only by holidays. and now i see these working-people freed for one of these holidays. they go out into the street: everywhere there are inns, public-houses, and gay women. and they, in a drunken state, pull each other by the arms, and carry along with them girls like the one whom i saw conducted to the police-station: they hire hackney-coaches, and ride and walk from one inn to another, and abuse each other, and totter about, and say they know not what. formerly when i saw the factory people knocking about in this way i used to turn aside with disgust, and almost reproached them; but since i hear these daily whistles, and know what they mean, i am only astonished that all these men do not come into the condition of the utter beggars with whom moscow is filled, and the women into the position of the girl whom i had met near my house. thus i walked on, looking at these men, observing how they went about the streets, till eleven o'clock. then their movements became quieter: there remained here and there a few tipsy people, and i met some men and women who were being conducted to the police-station. and now, from every side, carriages appeared, all going in one direction. on the coach-box sat a coachman, sometimes in a sheepskin coat, and a footman,--a dandy with a cockade. well-fed horses, covered with cloth, trotted at the rate of fifteen miles an hour. in the carriages sat ladies wrapped in shawls, taking great care not to spoil their flowers and their toilets. all, beginning with the harness on the horses, the carriages, indiarubber wheels, the cloth of the coachman's coat, down to the stockings, shoes, flowers, velvet, gloves, scents,--all these articles have been made by those men, some of whom fell asleep on their own pallets in their mean rooms, some in night-houses with prostitutes, and others in the police-station. the ball-goers drive past these men, in and with things made by them; and it does not even enter into their minds that there could possibly be any connection between the ball they are going to, and these tipsy people to whom their coachmen shout out so angrily. with easy minds and assurance that they are doing nothing wrong, but something very good, they enjoy themselves at the ball. enjoy themselves! from eleven o'clock in the evening till six in the morning, in the very depth of the night; while with empty stomachs men are lying in night-lodgings, or dying as the washer-woman had done! the enjoyment of the ball consists in women and girls uncovering their bosoms, putting on artificial protuberances at the back, and altogether getting themselves up as no girl and no woman who is not yet depraved would, on any account, appear before men; and in this half-naked condition, with uncovered bosoms, and arms bare up to the shoulders, with dresses puffed behind and tight round the hips, in the brightest light, women and girls, whose first virtue has always been modesty, appear among strange men, who are also dressed in indecently tight-fitting clothes, embrace each other, and pivot round and round to the sound of exciting music. old women, often also half naked like the younger ones, are sitting looking on, and eating and drinking: the old men do the same. no wonder it is done at night when everyone else is sleeping, so that no one may see it! but it is not done at night in order to hide it; there is nothing indeed to hide; all is very nice and good; and by this enjoyment, in which is swallowed up the painful labour of thousands, not only is nobody harmed, but by this very thing poor people are fed! the ball goes on very merrily, may be, but how did it come to do so? when we see in society or among ourselves one who has not eaten, or is cold, we are ashamed to enjoy ourselves, and cannot begin to be merry until he is fed, to say nothing of the fact that we cannot even imagine that there are people who can enjoy themselves by means of anything which produces the sufferings of others. we are disgusted with and do not understand the enjoyment of brutal boys who have squeezed a dog's tail into a piece of split wood. how is it, then, that in our enjoyment we become blind, and do not see the cleft in which we have pinched those men who suffer for our enjoyment. we know that each woman at this ball whose dress costs a hundred and fifty rubles was not born at the ball, but has lived in the country, has seen peasants, is acquainted with a nurse and maid whose fathers and brothers are poor, for whom the earning of a hundred and fifty rubles to build a cottage with is the end and aim of a long, laborious life. she knows all this; how can she, then, enjoy herself, knowing that on her half-naked body she is wearing the cottage which is the dream of her housemaid's brother? but let us suppose she has not thought about this: still she cannot help knowing that velvet and silk, sweetmeats and flowers, and laces and dresses, do not grow of themselves, but are made by men. one would think she could not help knowing that men make all these things, and under what circumstances, and why. she cannot help knowing that her dressmaker, whom she scolded to-day, made this dress not at all out of love to her, therefore she cannot help knowing that all these things--her laces, flowers, and velvet--were made from sheer want. but perhaps she is so blinded that she does not think of this. well, but, at all events, she could not help knowing that five people, old, respectable, often delicate men and women, have not slept all night, and have been busy on her account. she saw their tired, gloomy faces. this, also, she could not help knowing,--that on this night there were twenty-eight degrees of frost, and that her coachman--an old man--was sitting in this frost all night on his coach-box. but i know that they do not really see this. if from the hypnotic influence of the ball these young women and girls fail to see all this, we cannot judge them. poor things! they consider all to be good which is pronounced so by their elders. how do these elders explain their cruelty? they, indeed, always answer in the same way: "i compel no one; what i have, i have bought; footmen, chambermaids, coachman, i hire. there is no harm in engaging and in buying. i compel none; i hire; what wrong is there in that?" some days ago i called on a friend. passing through the first room i wondered at seeing two women at a table, for i knew my acquaintance was a bachelor. a skinny yellow, old-looking woman, about thirty, with a kerchief thrown over her shoulders, was briskly doing something over the table with her hands, jerking nervously, as if in a fit. opposite to her sat a young girl, who was also doing something and jerking in the same way. they both seemed to be suffering from st. vitus's dance. i came nearer and looked closer to see what they were about. they glanced up at me and then continued their work as attentively as before. before them were spread tobacco and cigarettes. they were making cigarettes. the woman rubbed the tobacco fine between the palms of her hands, caught it up by a machine, put on the tubes, and threw them to the girl. the girl folded the papers, put them over the cigarette, threw it aside, and took up another. all this was performed with such speed, with such dexterity, that it was impossible to describe it. i expressed my wonder at their quickness. "i have been at this business fourteen years," said the woman. "is it hard work?" "yes: my chest aches, and the air is choky with tobacco." but it was not necessary for her to have said so: you need only have looked at her or at the girl. the latter had been at this business three years; but anyone not seeing her at this work would have said that she had a strong constitution which was already beginning to be broken. my acquaintance, a kind-hearted man of liberal views, hired these women to make him cigarettes at two rubles and a half ( s.) a thousand. he has money, and he pays it away for this work: what harm is there in it? my acquaintance gets up at twelve. his evenings, from six to two, he spends at cards or at the piano; he eats and drinks well; other people do all the work for him. he has devised for himself a new pleasure,--smoking. i can remember when he began to smoke. here are a woman and a girl who can scarcely earn their living by transforming themselves into machines, and who pass all their lives in breathing tobacco, thus ruining their lives. he has money which he has not earned, and he prefers playing at cards to making cigarettes for himself. he gives these women money only on condition that they continue to live as miserably as they lived before in making cigarettes for him. i am fond of cleanliness; and i give money on condition that the washerwoman washes my shirts, which i change twice a day; and the washing of these shirts having taxed the utmost strength of the washerwoman, she has died. what is wrong in this? men who buy and hire will continue doing so whether i do or do not; they will force other people to make velvets and dainties, and will buy them whether i do or do not; so also they will hire people to make cigarettes and to wash shirts. why should i, then, deprive myself of velvets, sweetmeats, cigarettes, and clean shirts, when their production is already set in going. often,--almost constantly i hear this reasoning. this is the very reasoning which a crowd, maddened with the passion of destruction, will employ. it is the same reasoning which leads a pack of dogs, when one of their number runs against another and knocks it down, the rest attack it and tear it to pieces. others have already begun, have done a little mischief; why shouldn't i, too, do the same? what can it possibly signify if i wear a dirty shirt and make my cigarettes myself? could that help any one? men ask who desire to justify themselves. had we not wandered so far from truth one would be ashamed to answer this question; but we are so entangled that such a question seems natural to us, and, therefore, though i feel ashamed, i must answer it. what difference would it be if i should wear my shirt a week instead of a day, and make my cigarettes myself, or leave off smoking altogether? the difference would be this,--that a certain washerwoman, and a certain cigarette-maker, would exert themselves less, and what i gave formerly for the washing of my shirt, and for the making of my cigarettes, i may give now to that or to another woman; and working-people who are tired by their work, instead of overworking themselves, will be able to rest and to have tea. but i have heard objections to this, so ashamed are the rich and luxurious to understand their position. they reply, "if i should wear dirty linen, leave off smoking, and give this money away to the poor, then this money would be all the same taken away from them, and my drop will not help to swell the sea." i am still more ashamed to answer such a reply, but at the same time i must do so. if i came among savages who gave me chops which i thought delicious, but the next day i learned (perhaps saw myself) that these delicious chops were made of a human prisoner who had been slain in order to make them; and if i think it bad to eat men, however delicious the cutlets may be, and however general the custom to eat men among the persons with whom i live, and however small the utility of my refusal to eat them may be,--to the prisoners who have been prepared for food,--i shall not and cannot eat them. it may be that i shall eat human flesh when urged by hunger; but i shall not make a feast of it, and shall not take part in feasts with human flesh, and shall not seek such feasts, nor be proud of my partaking of them. chapter xxv but what is to be done, then? we did not do it, did we? and if not we, who did? we say, "it is not we who have done all this; it has been done of itself"; as children say when they break anything, that "it broke itself." we say that, as towns are already in existence, we, who are living there, must feed men by buying their labour. but that is not true. it need only be observed how we live in the country, and how we feed people there. winter is over: easter is coming. in the town the same orgies of the rich go on,--on the boulevards, in gardens, in the parks, on the river; music, theatres, riding, illuminations, fire-works. but in the country it is still better,--the air is purer; the trees, the meadows, the flowers, are fresher. we must go where all is budding and blooming. and now we, the majority of rich people, who live by other men's labour, go into the country to breathe the purer air, to look at the meadows and woods. here in the country among humble villagers who feed on bread and onions, work eighteen hours every day, and have neither sufficient sleep nor clothes, rich people take up their abode. no one tempts these people: here are no factories, and no idle hands, of which there are so many in town, whom we may imagine we feed by giving them work to do. here people never can do their own work in time during the summer; and not only are there no idle hands, but much property is lost for want of hands; and an immense number of men, children, and old people, and women with child, overwork themselves. how, then, do rich people order their lives here in the country? thus: if there happens to be an old mansion, built in the time of the serfs, then this house is renovated and re-decorated: if there is not, one is built of two or three stories. the rooms, which are from twelve to twenty and more in number, are all about sixteen feet high. the floors are inlaid; in the windows are put whole panes of glass, costly carpets on the floors; expensive furniture is procured,--a sideboard, for instance, costing from twenty to sixty pounds. near the mansion, roads are made; flower-beds are laid out; there are croquet-lawns, giant-strides, reflecting globes, conservatories, and hot-houses, and always luxurious stables. all is painted in colours, prepared with the very oil which the old people and children lack for their porridge. if a rich man can afford it he buys such a house for himself; if he cannot he hires one: but however poor and however liberal a man of our circle may be, he always takes up his abode in the country in such a house, for building and keeping which it is necessary to take away dozens of working-people who have not enough time to do their own business in the field to earn their living. here we cannot say that factories are already in existence and will continue so whether we make use of their work or no; we cannot say that we are feeding idle hands; here we plainly establish the factories for making things necessary for us, and simply make use of the surrounding people; we divert the people from work necessary for them, as for us and for all, and by such system deprave some, and ruin the lives and the health of others. there lives, let us say, in a village, an educated and respectable family of the upper class, or that of a government officer. all its members and the visitors assemble towards the middle of june, because up to june they had been studying and passing their examinations: they assemble when mowing begins, and they stay until september, until the harvest and sowing time. the members of the family (as almost all men of this class) remain in the country from the beginning of the urgent work,--hay-making,--not to the end of it, indeed, because in september the sowing goes on, and the digging up of potatoes, but till labour begins to slacken. during the whole time of the stay, around them and close by the peasants' summer work has been proceeding, the strain of which, however much we may have heard or read of it, however much we may have looked at it, we can form no adequate idea without having experienced it ourselves. the members of the family, about ten persons have been living as they did in town, if possible still worse than in town, because here in the village they are supposed to be resting (after doing nothing), and offer no pretence in the way of work, and no excuse for their idleness. in the midsummer-lent, when people are forced from want to feed on kvas[ ] and bread and onions, begins the mowing time. gentlefolk who live in the country see this labour, partly order it, partly admire it; enjoy the smell of the drying hay, the sound of women's songs, the noise of the scythes, and the sight of the rows of mowers, and of the women raking. they see this near their house as well as when they, with young people and children who do nothing all the day long, drive well-fed horses a distance of a few hundred yards to the bathing-place. [ ] a home-made cheap fermented drink.--ed. the work of mowing is one of the most important in the world. nearly every year, from want of hands and of time, the meadows remain half uncut and may remain so till the rains begin; so that the degree of intensity of the labour decides the question whether twenty or more per cent will be added to the stores of the world, or whether this hay will be left to rot or spoil while yet uncut. and if there is more hay, there will be also more meat for old people and milk for children; thus matters stand in general; but in particular for each mower here is decided the question of bread and milk for himself, and for his children during the winter. each of the working-people, male and female, knows this: even the children know that this is an important business and that one ought to work with all one's strength, carry a jug with kvas for the father to the mowing-place, and, shifting it from one hand to another, run barefoot as quickly as possible, a distance of perhaps a mile and a half from the village, in order to be in time for dinner, that father may not grumble. every one knows, that, from the mowing to the harvest, there will be no cessation of labour, and no time for rest. and besides mowing, each has some other business to do,--to plough up new land and harrow it; the women have the linen to make, bread to bake, and the washing to do; and the peasants must drive to the mill and to market; they have the official affairs of their community to attend to; they have also to provide the local government officials with means of locomotion, and to pass the night in the fields with the pastured horses. all, old and young and sick, work with all their strength. the peasants work in such a way, that, when cutting the last rows, the mowers, some of them weak people, growing youths, and old men, are so tired, that, having rested a little, it is with great pain they begin anew; the women, often with child, work hard too. it is a strained, incessant labour. all work to the utmost of their strength, and use not only all their provisions but what they have in store. during harvest-time all the peasants grow thinner although they never were very stout. there is a small company labouring in the hayfield; three peasants--one an old man, another his married nephew, and the third the village cobbler, a thin, wiry man. their mowing this morning decides their fate for the coming winter, whether they will be able to keep a cow and pay their taxes. this is their second weeks' work. the rain hindered them for a while. after the rain had left off and the water had dried up they decided to make hayricks; and in order to do it quicker they decided that two women must rake to each scythe. with the old man came out his wife, fifty years of age, worn out with labour and the bearing of eleven children; deaf, but still strong enough for work; and his daughter, thirteen years of age, a short but brisk and strong little girl. with the nephew came his wife,--a tall woman, as strong as a peasant, and his sister in law,--a soldier's wife, who was with child. with the cobbler came his wife,--a strong working-woman, and her mother,--an old woman about eighty, who for the rest of the year used to beg. they all draw up in a line, and work from morning to evening in the burning sun of june. it is steaming hot and a thunder-shower is threatening. every moment of work is precious. they have not wished to leave off working even to fetch water or kvas. a small boy, the grandson of the old woman, brings them water. the old woman is evidently anxious only on one point,--not to be sent away from work. she does not let the rake out of her hands, and moves about with great difficulty. the little boy, quite bent under the jug with water, heavier than himself, walks with short steps on his bare feet, and carries the jug with many shifts. the little girl takes on her shoulders a load of hay which is also heavier than herself; walks a few paces, and stops, then throws it down, having no strength to carry it farther. the old man's wife rakes together unceasingly, her kerchief loosened from her disordered hair; she carries the hay, breathing heavily and staggering under the burden: the cobbler's mother is only raking, but this is also beyond her strength; she slowly drags her feet, in baste shoes, and looks gloomily before her, like one very ill, or at the point of death. the old man purposely sends her far away from the others, to rake about the ricks, in order that she may not attempt to compete with them; but she does not leave off working, but continues with the same dead gloomy face as long as the others. the sun is already setting behind the wood and the ricks are not yet in order: there is much still to be done. all feel that it is time to leave off working but no one says so; each waiting for the other to suggest it. at last, the cobbler, realizing that he has no more strength left, proposes to the old man to leave the ricks till to-morrow, and the old man agrees to it; and at once the women go to fetch their clothes, their jugs, their pitchforks; and the old woman sits down where she was standing, and then lays herself down with the same fixed stare on her face. but as the women go away she gets up groaning, and, crawling along, follows them. let us turn to the country-house. the same evening, when from the side of the village were heard the rattle of the scythes of the toil-worn mowers who were returning from work, the sounds of the hammer against the anvil, the cries of women and girls who had just had time to put away their rakes, and were already running to drive the cattle in,--with those blend other sounds from the country-house. rattle, rattle, goes the piano; a hungarian song is heard through the noise of the croquet-balls; before the stable an open carriage is standing harnessed with four fat horses, which has been hired for twenty shillings to bring some guests a distance of ten miles. horses standing by the carriage rattle their little bells. before them hay has been thrown, which they are scattering with their hoofs, the same hay which the peasants have been gathering with such hard labour. in the yard of this mansion there is movement; a healthy, well-fed fellow in a pink shirt, presented to him for his service as a house-porter, is calling the coachmen and telling them to harness and saddle some horses. two peasants who live here as coachmen come out of their room, and go in an easy manner, swinging their arms, to saddle horses for the ladies and gentlemen. still nearer to the house the sounds of another piano are heard. it is the music-mistress,--who lives in the family to teach the children,--practising her schumann. the sounds of one piano jangle with those of another. quite near the house walk two nurses; one is young, another old; they lead and carry children to bed; these children are of the same age as those who ran from the village with jugs. one nurse is english: she cannot speak russian. she was engaged to come from england, not from being distinguished by some peculiar qualities but simply because she does not speak russian. farther on is another person, a french woman, who is also engaged because she does not know russian. farther on a peasant, with two women, is watering flowers near the house: another is cleaning a gun for one of the young gentlemen. here two women are carrying a basket with clean linen,--they have been washing for all these gentlefolks. in the house two women have scarcely time to wash the plates and dishes after the company, who have just done eating; and two peasants in evening clothes are running up and down the stairs, serving coffee, tea, wine, seltzer-water, etc. up-stairs a table is spread. one meal has just ended, and another will soon begin, to continue till cock-crow and often till morning dawns. some are sitting smoking, playing cards; others are sitting and smoking, engaged in discussing liberal ideas of reform; and others, again, walk to and fro, eat, smoke, and, not knowing what to do, have made up their mind to take a drive. the household consists of fifteen persons, healthy men and women; and thirty persons, healthy working-people, male and female, labour for them. and this takes place there, where every hour, and each little boy, are precious. this will be so, also, in july, when the peasants, not having had their sleep out, will mow the oats at night in order that it may not be lost, and the women will get up before dawn in order to finish their threshing in time; when this old woman, who had been exhausted during the harvest, and the women with child, and the little children will again all overwork themselves, and when there is a great want of hands, horses, carts, in order to house this corn upon which all men feed, of which millions of bushels are necessary in russia in order that men should not die: during even such a time, the idle lives of ladies and gentlemen will go on. there will be private theatricals, picnics, hunting, drinking, eating, piano-playing, singing, dancing,--in fact, incessant orgies. here, at least, it is impossible to find any excuse from the fact that all this had been going on before: nothing of the kind had been in existence. we ourselves carefully create such a life, taking bread and labour away from the work-worn people. we live sumptuously, as if there were no connection whatever between the dying washerwoman, child-prostitute, women worn out by making cigarettes and all the intense labour around us to which their unnourished strength is inadequate. we do not want to see the fact that if there were not our idle, luxurious, depraved lives, there would not be this labour, disproportioned to the strength of people, and that if there were not this labour we could not go on living in the same way. it appears to us that their sufferings are one thing and our lives another, and that we, living as we do, are innocent and pure as doves. we read the description of the lives of the romans, and wonder at the inhumanity of a heartless lucullus, who gorged himself with fine dishes and delicious wines while people were starving: we shake our heads and wonder at the barbarism of our grandfathers,--the serf-owners,--who provided themselves with orchestras and theatres, and employed whole villages to keep up their gardens. from the height of our greatness we wonder at their inhumanity. we read the words of isaiah v., : "woe unto them that join house to house, that lay field to field, till there be no room, and ye be made to dwell alone in the midst of the land. woe unto them that rise up early in the morning, that they may follow strong drink; that tarry late into the night, till wine inflame them! the harp, and the lute, the tabret, the pipe, and wine are in their feasts: but they regard not the work of the lord, neither have they considered the operation of his hands. woe unto them that draw iniquity with cords of vanity, and sin as it were with a cart rope. woe unto them that call evil good, and good evil; that put darkness for light, and light for darkness; that put bitter for sweet, and sweet for bitter! woe unto them that are wise in their own eyes, and prudent in their own sight! woe unto them that are mighty to drink wine, and men of strength to mingle strong drink: which justify the wicked for reward, and take away the righteousness of the righteous from him." we read these words, and it seems to us that they have nothing to do with us. we read in the gospel, matthew iii., : "and even now is the axe laid unto the root of the tree: every tree therefore that bringeth not forth good fruit is hewn down, and cast into the fire," and we are quite sure that the good tree bearing good fruit is we ourselves, and that those words are said, not to us, but to some other bad men. we read the words of isaiah vi., : "make the heart of this people fat, and make their ears heavy, and shut their eyes; lest they see with their eyes, and hear with their ears, and understand with their heart, and turn again, and be healed. then said i, lord, how long? and he answered, until cities be waste without inhabitant, and houses without man, and the land become utterly waste." we read, and are quite assured that this wonderful thing has not happened to us, but to some other people. for this very reason we do not see that this has happened to us, and is taking place with us. we do not hear, we do not see, and do not understand with our heart. but why has it so happened? chapter xxvi how can a man who considers himself to be,--we will not say a christian or an educated and humane man,--but simply a man not entirely devoid of reason and of conscience,--how can he, i say, live in such a way, taking no part in the struggle of all mankind for life, only swallowing up the labour of others struggling for existence, and by his own claims increasing the labour of those who struggle and the number of those who perish in the struggle? such men abound in our so-called christian and cultured world; and not only do they abound in our world but the very ideal of the men of our christian, cultured world, is to get the largest amount of property,--that is, wealth,--which secures all comforts and idleness of life by freeing its possessors from the struggle for existence, and enabling them, as much as possible, to profit by the labour of those brothers of theirs who perish in that struggle. how could men have fallen into such astounding error? how could they have come to such a state that they can neither see nor hear nor understand with their heart what is so clear, obvious, and certain? one need only think for a moment in order to be terrified at the way our lives contradict what we profess to believe, whether we be christian or only humane educated people. whether it be god or a law of nature that governs the world and men, good or bad, the position of men in this world, so long as we know it has always been such that naked men,--without wool on their bodies, without holes in which to take refuge, without food which they might find in the field like robinson crusoe on his island,--are put into a position of continual and incessant struggle with nature in order to cover their bodies by making clothes for themselves, to protect themselves by a roof over their heads, and to earn food in order twice or thrice a day to satisfy their hunger and that of their children and their parents. wherever and whenever and to whatever extent we observe the lives of men, whether in europe, america, china, or russia; whether we take into consideration all mankind or a small portion, whether in olden times in a nomad state, or in modern times with steam-engines, steam-ploughs, sewing-machines, and electric light,--we shall see one and the same thing going on,--that men, working constantly and incessantly, are not able to get clothes, shelter, and food for themselves, their little ones, and the old, and that the greatest number of men in olden times as well as now, perish slowly from want of the necessaries of life and from overwork. wherever we may live, if we draw a circle around us of a hundred thousand, or a thousand or ten, or even one mile's circumference, and look at the lives of those men who are inside our circle, we shall find half-starved children, old people male and female, pregnant women, sick and weak persons, working beyond their strength, who have neither food nor rest enough to support them, and who, for this reason, die before their time: we shall see others full-grown who are even being killed by dangerous and hurtful tasks. since the world has existed we find that with great efforts, sufferings, and privations men have been struggling for their common wants, and have not been able to overcome the difficulty. besides, we also know that every one of us, wherever and however he may live, _nolens volens_, is every day, and every hour of the day, absorbing for himself a part of the labour performed by mankind. wherever and however a man lives, the roof over his head did not grow of itself; the firewood in his stove did not get there of itself; the water did not come of itself either; and the baked bread does not fall down from the sky; his dinner, his clothes, and the covering for his feet, all this has been made for him, not only by men of past generations, long dead, but it is being done for him now by those men of whom hundreds and thousands are fainting away and dying in vain efforts to get for themselves and for their children sufficient shelter, food, and clothes,--means to save themselves and their children from suffering and a premature death. all men are struggling with want. they are struggling so intensely that around them always their brethren, fathers, mothers, children, are perishing. men in this world are like those on a dismantled or water-logged ship with a short allowance of food; all are put by god, or by nature, in such a position that they must husband their food and unceasingly war with want. each interruption in this work of every one of us, each absorption of the labour of others which is useless for the common welfare, is ruinous, alike for us and them. how is it that the majority of educated people, without labouring, are quietly absorbing the labours of others which are necessary for their own lives, and are considering such an existence quite natural and reasonable? if we are to free ourselves from the labour proper and natural to all and lay it on others, and yet not at the same time consider ourselves traitors and thieves, we can do so only by two suppositions,--first, that we (the men who take no part in common labour) are different beings from working-men and have a peculiar destiny to fulfil in society (like drone-bees, or queen-bees, which have a different function from the working-bees); or secondly, that the business which we (the men freed from the struggle for existence) are doing for other men is so useful for all that it undoubtedly compensates for that harm which we do to others in overburdening them. in olden times men who lived by the labour of others asserted, first, that they belonged to a different race; and secondly, that they had from god a peculiar mission,--caring for the welfare of others; in other words, to govern and teach them: and therefore, they assured others, and partly believed themselves, that the business they did was more useful and more important for the people than those labours by which they profit. this justification was sufficient so long as the direct interference of god in human affairs, and the inequality of human races, was not doubted. but with christianity and that consciousness of the equality and unity of all men which proceeds from it, this justification could no longer be expressed in its previous form. it was no longer possible to assert that men are born of different kind and quality and have a different destiny; and the old justification, though still held by some, has been little by little destroyed and has now almost entirely disappeared. but though the justification disappeared, the fact itself,--of the freeing of some men from labour, and the appropriation by them of other men's labour, remained the same for those who had the power to enforce it. for this existing fact new excuses have constantly been invented, in order that without asserting the difference of human beings, men might be able with apparent justice to free themselves from personal labour. a great many justifications have been invented. however strange it may seem, the main object of all that has been called science, and the ruling tendency of science, has been to seek out such excuses. this has been the object of the theological sciences and of the science of law: this was the object of so-called philosophy, and this became lately the object of modern rationalistic science, however strange it appears to us, the contemporaries, who use this justification. all the theological subtleties which aimed at proving that a certain church is the only true successor of christ, and that, therefore, she alone has full and uncontrolled power over the souls and bodies of men, had in view this very object. all the legal sciences,--those of state law, penal law, civil law, and international law,--have this sole aim. the majority of philosophical theories, especially that of hegel, which reigned over the minds of men for such a long time, and maintained the assertion that everything which exists is reasonable, and that the state is a necessary form of the development of human personality, had only this one object in view. comte's positive philosophy and its outcome, the doctrine that mankind is an organism; darwin's doctrine of the struggle for existence, directing life and its conclusion, the theory of the diversity of human races, the anthropology now so popular, biology, and sociology,--all have the same aim. these sciences have become favourites, because they all serve for the justification of the existing fact of some men being able to free themselves from the human duty of labour, and to consume other men's labour. all these theories, as is always the case, are worked out in the mysterious sanctums of augurs, and in vague, unintelligible expressions are spread abroad among the masses and adopted by them. as in olden times the subtleties of theology, which justified violence in church and state, were the special property of priests; and among the masses of the people, the conclusions, taken by faith, and ready made for them, were circulated, that the power of kings, clergy and nobility was sacred: so afterwards, the philosophical and legal subtleties of so-called science became the property of the priests of science; and through the masses only the ready-made conclusion, accepted by faith,--that social order (the organization of society) must be such as it is, and cannot be otherwise,--was diffused. so it is now. it is only in the sanctuaries of the modern sages that the laws of life and the development of organisms are analyzed. whereas in the crowd, the ready-made conclusion, accepted on trust,--that division of labour is a law confirmed by science, and therefore it must be that some starve and toil and others eternally feast, and that this very ruin of some and feasting of others is the undoubted law of man's life, to which we must submit,--is circulated. the current justification of their idleness by all so-called educated people, with their various activities, from the railway proprietor down to the author or artist, is this: we men who have freed ourselves from the common human duty of taking part in the struggle for existence, are furthering progress, and so we are of great use to all human society, of such use that we counterbalance all the harm we do the people by consuming their labour. this reasoning seems to the men of our day to be not at all like the reasoning by which the former non-workers justified themselves; just as the reasoning of the roman emperors and citizens, that but for them the civilized world would go to ruin, seemed to them to be of quite another order from that of the egyptians and persians; and so also an exactly similar kind of reasoning seemed in turn to the knights and clergy of the middle ages totally different from that of the romans. but it only _seems_. one need only reflect on the justification of our time in order to ascertain that there is nothing new in it. it is only a little differently dressed up, but it is the same because it is based on the same principle. every justification of one man's consumption of the labour of others, while producing none himself, as with pharaoh and his soothsayers, the emperors of rome and those of the middle ages and their citizens, knights, priests, and clergy, always consists in these two assertions: first, we take the labour of the masses because we are different from others, people called by god to govern them and to teach them divine truths: secondly, those who compose the masses cannot be judges of the measure of labour which we take from them for the good we do for them, because, as it has been said by the pharisees, "this multitude which knoweth not the law are accursed" (john vii. ). the people do not understand what is for their good, and therefore they cannot be judges of the benefits done to them. the justification of our time, notwithstanding all apparent originality, consists in facts of the same fundamental assertions: first, we are a different people,--we are an educated people,--we further progress and civilization, and by this fact we procure for the masses a great advantage. secondly, the uneducated crowd does not understand the advantages we procure for them, and therefore cannot be judges of them. the fundamental assertions are the same. we free ourselves from labour, appropriate the labour of others, and by this increase the burden of our fellows; and then assert that in compensation for this we bring them a great advantage, of which they, owing to ignorance, cannot be judges. is it not, then, the same thing? the only difference lies in this: that formerly the claims on other men's labour were made by citizens, roman priests, knights, and nobility, and now these claims are put forward by a caste who term themselves educated. the lie is the same, because the men who justify themselves are in the same false position. the lie consists in the fact, that, before beginning to reason about the advantages conferred on the workers by people who have freed themselves from labour,--certain men, pharaohs, priests, or we ourselves, educated people, assume this position first, and only afterwards manufacture a justification for it. the very position universally serves as a basis for the justification. the difference of our justification from the ancient ones consists merely in the fact that it is more false and less well grounded. the old emperors and popes, if they themselves, and the people, believed in their divine calling, could easily explain why they were to control the labour of others: they asserted that they were appointed by god himself for this very thing, and from god they had a commandment to teach the people divine truths revealed to them, and to govern them. but modern, educated men, who do not labour with their hands, and who acknowledge the equality of all men, cannot explain why they and their children (for education is only by money; that is, by power) should be those lucky persons called to an easy, idle life, out of those millions who by hundreds and thousands are perishing to make it possible for them to be educated. their only justification consists in this, that, just as they are, instead of doing harm to the workers by freeing themselves from labour, and by swallowing up labour, they bring to the people some advantages, unintelligible to them, which compensate for all the evil they perpetrate. chapter xxvii the theory by which men who have freed themselves from personal labour justify themselves, is, in its simplest and most exact form, this: "we men, having freed ourselves from work, and having by violence appropriated the labour of others, we find ourselves better able to benefit them." in other words, certain men, for doing the people a palpable and comprehensible harm,--utilizing their labour by violence, and thereby increasing the difficulty of their struggles with nature,--do to them an impalpable and incomprehensible good. this is a very strange proposition; but the men, both of former as well of modern times, who have lived on the labour of workmen, believe it, and calm their conscience by it. let us see in what way it is justified, in different classes of men who have freed themselves from labour in our own days. "i serve men by my activity in church or state,--as king, minister, archbishop; i serve men by my trading or by industry; i serve men by my activity in the departments of science or art. by our activities we are all as necessary to the people as they are to us." so say various men of to-day who have freed themselves from labour. let us consider _seriatim_ the principles upon which they base the usefulness of their activity. there are only two indications of the usefulness of any activity of one man for another: ( ) an exterior indication,--the acknowledgement of the utility of the activity by those to whom it is applied; and ( ) an interior indication,--the desire to be of use to others lying at the root of the activity of the one who is trying to be of use. statesmen (i include the church dignitaries appointed by the government in the category of statesmen) are, it is said, of use to those whom they govern. the emperor, the king, the president of a republic, the prime minister, the minister of justice, the minister of war, the minister of public instruction, the bishop, and all under them who serve the state, all live free from the struggle of mankind for existence, having laid all the burden of this struggle on someone else, on the ground that their non-activity compensates for this. let us apply the first indication to those for whose welfare the activity of statesmen is bestowed. do they, i ask, recognize the usefulness of this activity? yes, it is recognized. most men consider statesmanship necessary to them. the majority recognize the usefulness of this activity in principle; but in all its manifestations known to us, in all _particular_ cases known to us, the usefulness of each of the institutions and of each of the manifestations of this activity is not only denied by those for whose advantage it is performed, but they assert that it is even pernicious and hurtful. there is no state function or social activity which is not considered by many men to be hurtful: there is no institution which is not considered pernicious,--courts of justice, banks, local self-government, police, clergy. every state activity, from the minister down to the policeman, from the bishop to the sexton, is considered by some men to be useful and by others to be pernicious. and this is the case not only in russia but throughout the world; in france as well as in america. the activity of the republican party is considered pernicious by the radical party, and _vice versa_: the activity of the radical party, if the power is in their hands, is considered bad by the republican and other parties. but not only is it a fact that the activity of statesmen is never considered by all men to be useful, this activity has, besides, this peculiarity, that it must always be carried out by violence, and that, to attain its end, murders, executions, prisons, taxes raised by force, and so on, became necessary. it appears therefore that besides the fact that the usefulness of state activity is not recognized by all men, and is always denied by one portion of men, this usefulness has the peculiarity of vindicating itself always by violence. therefore the usefulness of state activity cannot be confirmed by the first indication,--i.e., the fact that it is recognized by those men for whom it is said to be performed. let us apply the second test. let us ask statesmen themselves, from the tsar down to the policeman, from the president to the secretary, from the patriarch to the sexton, begging for a sincere answer, whether, in occupying their respective positions they have in view the good which they wish to do for men or something else. in their desire to fill the situation of a tsar, a president, a minister, a police-sergeant, a sexton, a teacher, are they moved by the desire of being useful to men or for their own personal advantage? and the answer of sincere men would be that their chief motive is their own personal advantage. so it appears that one class of men, who live by the labour of some others who are perishing by these labours, compensate for this indubitable evil by an activity which is always considered by a great many men to be not only useless, but pernicious; which cannot be accepted voluntarily, but to which men must always be compelled, and the aim of which is not the benefit of others but the personal advantage of the men who perform it. what is it, then, that confirms the theory that state activity is useful for humanity? only the fact that the men who perform it firmly profess to believe it to be useful, and that it has been always in existence. but so some not only useless, but very pernicious institutions, like slavery, prostitution, and wars, have always been in existence. business people (merchants, manufacturers, railway proprietors, bankers, land-owners) believe that they do a good which compensates for the harm undoubtedly done by them. on what grounds do they believe this? to the question, by whom is the usefulness of their activity recognized? men in church and in state are able to point to the thousands and millions of working-people who in principle recognize the usefulness of state and church activity. but to whom will bankers, distillers, manufacturers of velvet, of bronzes, of looking-glasses, to say nothing of guns,--to whom will they point when we ask them, is their usefulness recognized by public opinion? if men can be found who recognize the usefulness of manufacturing chintzes, rails, beer, and such like things, there will be found also a still greater number of men who consider the manufacture of these articles pernicious. as for the merchants whose activity is confined to prices, and land-owners, nobody would even attempt to justify them. besides, this activity is always associated with harm to working-people, and with violence, which, if less direct than that of the state, is yet just as cruel in its consequences. for the activities displayed in industry and in trade are entirely based on taking advantage of the wants of working-people in every form in order to compel them to hard and hated labour; to buying cheap, and to selling necessaries at the highest possible price and to raising the interest on money. from whatever point we consider this activity we can see that the usefulness of business-men is not recognised by those for whom it is expended, neither generally nor in particular cases; and by the majority their activity is considered to be directly pernicious. if we were to apply the second test and to ask, what is the chief motive of the activity of business-men? we should receive a still more determinate answer than that on the activity of statesmen. if a statesman says that besides a personal advantage he has in view the common benefit, we cannot help believing him, and each of us knows such men. but a business-man, from the very nature of his occupations cannot have in view a common advantage, and would be ridiculous in the sight of his fellows if he were in his business aiming at something besides increasing his wealth and keeping it. and, therefore, working-people do not consider the activity of business-men of any advantage to them. their activity is associated with violence; and its object is not their good but always and only personal advantage; and yet, strange to say, these business-men are so assured of their own usefulness that they boldly, for the sake of their imaginary good, do an undoubted, obvious harm to workmen by extricating themselves from labour, and consuming the produce of the working-classes. scientists and artists have also freed themselves from labour by putting it on others, and live with a quiet conscience believing that they bring sufficient advantages to other men to compensate for it. on what is this assurance based? let us ask them as we have done statesmen and business-men. is the utility of the arts and sciences recognized by all, or even by the majority, of working-people? we shall receive a very sad answer. the activity of men in the state church and government offices is recognized to be useful in theory by almost all, and in application by the majority of those for whom it is performed. the activity of business-men is recognized only by those who are engaged in it or who desire to practise it. those who bear on their shoulders all the labour of life and who feed and clothe the scientists and artists cannot recognize the usefulness of the activity of these men because they cannot even form an idea about an activity which always appears to workmen useless and even depraving. thus, without any exception, working-people think the same about universities, libraries, conservatories, picture and statue galleries, and theatres, which are built at their expense. a workman considers this activity so decidedly pernicious that he does not send his children to be taught; and in order to compel people to accept this activity it has everywhere been found necessary to introduce a law compelling parents to send the children to school. a workman always looks at this activity with ill-will, and only ceases to look at it so when he ceases to be a workman, and through gain and so-called education passes out of the class of working-people into the class of men who live on the neck of others. notwithstanding the fact that the usefulness of the activity of scientists and artists is not recognized and even cannot be recognized by any workman, these men are, all the same, compelled to make sacrifices for such an activity. a statesman simply sends another to the guillotine or to prison; a business-man, utilizing the labour of someone else, takes from him his last resource, leaving him the alternative of starvation or labour destructive to his health and life: but a man of science or of art seemingly compels nobody to do anything; he merely offers the good he has done to those who are willing to take it; but, to be able to make his productions undesirable to the working-people, he takes away from them by violence, through the statesmen, a great part of their labour for the building and keeping open of academies, universities, colleges, schools, museums, libraries, conservatories, and for the wages for himself and his fellows. but if we were to ask the scientists and artists the object which they are pursuing in their activity, we should receive the most astonishing replies. a statesman would answer that his aim was the common welfare; and in his answer, there would be an admixture of truth confirmed by public opinion. in the answer of the business-man, there would be less probability; but we could admit even this also. but the answer of the scientists and artists strikes one at once by its want of proof and by its effrontery. such men say, without bringing any proofs (just as priests used to do in olden times) that their activity is the most important of all, and that without it mankind would go to ruin. they assert that it is so, notwithstanding the fact that nobody except themselves either understands or acknowledges their activity, and notwithstanding the fact that, according to their own definition, true science and true art should not have a utilitarian aim. these men are occupied with the matter they like, without troubling themselves what advantage will come out of it to men; and they are always assured that they are doing the most important and the most necessary thing for all mankind. so that while a sincere statesman, acknowledging that the chief motive of his activity is a personal one, tries to be as useful as possible to the working-people; while a business-man, acknowledging the egotism of his activity, tries to give it an appearance of being one of universal utility,--men of science and art do not consider it necessary even to seem to shelter themselves under a pretence of usefulness, they deny even the object of usefulness, so sure are they, not only of the usefulness but even of the sacredness of their own business. so it turns out that the third class of men who have freed themselves from labour and laid it on others, are occupied with things which are totally incomprehensible to the working-people, and which these people consider trifles and often very pernicious trifles; and are occupied with these things without any consideration of their usefulness but merely for the gratification of their own pleasure: it turns out that these men are, from some reason or other, quite assured that their activity will always produce that without which the work-people would never be able to exist. men have freed themselves from labouring for their living and have thrown the work upon others who perish under it: they utilize this labour and assert that their occupations, which are incomprehensible to all other men, and which are not directed to useful aims, compensate for all the evil they are doing to men by freeing themselves from the trouble of earning their livelihood and by swallowing up the labour of others. the statesman, to compensate for the undoubted and obvious evil which he does to man by freeing himself from the struggle with nature and by appropriating the labour of others, does men another obvious and undoubted harm by countenancing all sorts of violence. the business-man, to compensate for the undoubted and obvious harm which he does to men by using up their labour, tries to earn for himself as much wealth as possible; that is, as much of other men's labour as possible. the man of science and art, in compensating for the same undoubted and obvious harm which he does to working-people, is occupied with matters to which he feels attracted and which are quite incomprehensible to work-people, and which, according to his own assertion, in order to be true, ought not to aim at usefulness. therefore, all these men are quite sure that their right of utilizing other men's labour is secure. yet it seems obvious that all those men who have freed themselves from the labour of earning their livelihood have no justification for doing so. but, strange to say, these men firmly believe in their own righteousness, and live as they do with an easy conscience. there must be some plausible ground, some false belief, at the bottom of such a profound error. chapter xxviii in reality, the position in which men who live by other men's labour are placed, is based not only on a certain belief but on an entire doctrine; and not only on one doctrine but on three, which have grown one upon another during centuries and are now fused together into an awful deceit,--or humbug as the english call it,--which hides from men their unrighteousness. the oldest of these, which justifies the treason of men against the fundamental duty of labour to earn their own living, was the church-christian doctrine, which asserts that men by the will of god differ one from another as the sun differs from the moon and the stars, and as one star differs from another. some men god has ordained to have dominion over all, others to have power over many, others, still, over a few, and the remainder are ordained by god to obey. this doctrine, though already shaken to its foundations, still continues to influence some men, so that many who do not accept it, who often even ignore the existence of it, are, nevertheless, guided by it. the second is what i cannot help terming the state-philosophical doctrine. according to this, as fully developed by hegel, everything that exists is reasonable, and the established order of life is constant, and is sustained not merely by men, but as the only possible form of the manifestation of the spirit, or, generally, of the life of mankind. this doctrine, too, is no longer accepted by the men who direct social opinion, and it holds its position only by the power of inertia. the last doctrine, which is now ruling the minds of men and on which is based the justification of leading statesmen, men of business, and science and art, is a scientific one, not in the evident sense of the word (meaning knowledge generally), but in the sense of a knowledge peculiar in form as well as in matter, termed _science_. on this new doctrine, the justification of man's idleness and the hiding from him his treason against his calling, is particularly based. this doctrine appeared in europe contemporaneously with a large class of rich and idle people who served neither the church nor the state and who were in want of a justification of their position. not very long ago, before the french revolution in europe, all non-working people, in order to have a right to utilize other men's labour, were obliged to have some definite occupation,--to serve in the church, the state, or the army. the men who served the government, "governed the people"; those who served the church, "taught the people divine truths"; and those who served the army, "protected the people." only these three classes of men--the clergy, the statesmen, and the military men--claimed for themselves the right of utilizing labour, and they could always point out their services to the people: the remaining rich men who had not this justification, were despised, and, feeling their own want of right, were ashamed of their wealth and their idleness. but as time went on, this class of rich people, who belonged neither to the clergy, to the government, nor to the army, owing to the vices of these other three classes, increased in number and became a powerful party. they were in want of a justification of their position. and one was invented for them. a century had not elapsed before the men who served neither the state nor the church and took no part whatever in their affairs, received the same right to live on labour as the former classes; and they not only left off being ashamed of their wealth and idleness but began to consider their position quite justified. and the number of such men has increased, and is still increasing in our days. the most wonderful of all is this, that these men whose claims to be freed from labour were unrecognized not long ago, now consider themselves alone to be fully right and are attacking the former three classes,--the servants of the church, state, and army,--alleging their exemption from labour to be unjust and often even considering their activity directly pernicious. what is still more wonderful is this, that the former servants of church, state, and army, do not now lean on the divinity of their calling, nor even on the philosophy which considers the state necessary for individual development, but setting aside these supports which have so long maintained them, they are now seeking the same supports on which the new reigning class of men, who have found a novel justification, stand, and at the head of which are the men of science and art. if a statesman now sometimes, appealing to old memories, justifies his position by the fact that he was set in it by god, or by the fact that the state is a form of the development of personality, he does it because he is behind the age, and he feels that nobody believes him. in order to justify himself effectually, he ought to find now neither theological nor philosophical but new and scientific supports. it is necessary to point to the principle of nationalities, or to that of the development of an organism; and to gain over the ruling class, as in the middle ages it was necessary to gain over the clergy; and as at the end of the last century, it was necessary to obtain the sanction of philosophers, as seen in the case of frederick the great and catherine of russia. if now a rich man, after the old fashion, says sometimes that it is god's providence which makes him rich, or if he points to the importance of a nobility for the welfare of a state, he does it because he is behind the times. in order to justify himself completely he must point to the way he furthers progress by improving the modes of production, by lowering the prices of consumption, by establishing intercourse between nations. a rich man must think and speak in scientific language, and, like the clergy formerly, he must offer sacrifices to the ruling class: he must publish magazines and books, provide himself with a picture-gallery, a musical society, a kindergarten or technical school. the ruling class is the class of learned men and artists of a definite character. they possess the complete justification for having freed themselves from labour; and on this justification (as in former times on the theological justification, and afterwards on the philosophical one) everything is based: and it is these men who now give the diploma of exemption to other classes. the class of men who now feel completely justified in freeing themselves from labour, is that of men of science, and particularly of experimental, positive, critical, evolutional science, and of artists who develop their ideas according to the same tendency. if a learned man or an artist of the old style speaks nowadays about prophecy, revelation, or the manifestation of the spirit, he does so because he is behind the age, and he will not succeed in justifying himself: to stand firm he must try to associate his activity with experimental, positive, critical science, and he must make this science the fundamental principle of his activity. only then will the science or the art with which he is occupied appear true, and he will stand on firm ground, and then there will be no doubt as to his usefulness to mankind. the justification of all who have freed themselves from labour is now based upon this experimental, critical, positive science. the theological and philosophical explanations have had their day: now they timidly and bashfully introduce themselves to notice and try to humour their scientific usurper, who, however, boldly knocks down and destroys the remnants of the past, everywhere taking its place, and, assured of its own firmness, lifts aloft its head. _the theological justification_ maintained that men are predestined,--some to govern, others to obey; some to live sumptuously, others to labour: and therefore those who believed in the revelation of god could not doubt the lawfulness of the position of those men, who, by the will of god, are called to govern and to be rich. _the state-philosophical justification_ used to say, "the state with all its institutions and differences of classes according to rights and possessions, is that historical form which is necessary for the right manifestation of the spirit in mankind; and therefore the situation which everyone occupies in state and in society according to his rights and to his possessions must be such as to ensure the sound life of mankind." _the scientific theory_ says, "all this is nonsense and superstition: the one is the fruit of the theological period of thought, and the other of the metaphysical period. to study the laws of the life of human societies, there is only one sure method,--that of a positive, experimental, critical science. it is only sociology, based on biology, in its turn based on all the other positive sciences, which is able to give us new laws for the life of mankind. mankind, or human societies, are organisms either already perfect, or in a state of development subject to the laws of the evolution of organisms. one of the first of these laws is the division of labour among the portions of the organs. if some men govern and others obey, some live in opulence and others in want, then this is so, neither according to the will of god nor because the state is the form of the manifestation of personality, but because in societies as in organisms a division of labour takes place which is necessary for the life of the whole. some men perform in societies the muscular part of labour, and others, the mental." on this doctrine is built the ruling excuse of the age. chapter xxix christ teaches men in a new way, and this teaching is written down in the gospels. it is first persecuted, and not accepted. then the fables of the fall of man, and of the first angel, are invented, and these fables are believed to be the teaching of christ. the fables are absurd, they have no foundation whatever, but by virtue of them men are led to believe that they may continue to live in an evil way, and none the less consider themselves as saved by christ. this conclusion is so agreeable to the mass of weak men who have no affection for moral effort, that the system is eagerly accepted, not only as true, but even as the divine truth as revealed by god himself. and the invention becomes the groundwork on which for centuries theologians build their theories. then by degrees these learned men diverge by various channels into special systems of their own, and finally endeavour to overthrow each other's theories. they begin to feel there is something amiss, and cease to understand what they themselves are talking about. but the crowd still requires them to expound its favourite instruction; and thus the theologians, pretending both to understand and believe what they are saying, continue to dispense it. in process of time, however, the conclusions drawn from theological conceptions cease to be necessary to the masses, who, then, peeping into the very sanctuaries of their augurs, discover them to be utterly void of those glorious and indubitable truths which the mysteries of theology had seemed to be, and see instead that there is nothing there but crude deception, and they marvel at their own blindness. the same happened to philosophy, not in the sense of the wisdom of men like confucius or epictetus, but with professional philosophy which humoured the instincts of the crowd of rich and idle people. not long ago a moral philosophy was in fashion in the learned world, according to which it appeared that everything that is, is reasonable; that there is neither good nor evil; that man has not to struggle with evil, but has merely to manifest the spirit of the age, some in military service, some in courts of justice, and some on the violin. many and various were the expressions of human wisdom known to the men of the nineteenth century,--of rousseau, pascal, lessing, and spinoza; and all the wisdom of antiquity was expounded, but none of its systems laid hold of the crowd. we cannot say that hegel's success was due to the harmony of his theory. we had no less harmonious theories from descartes, leibnitz, fichte, and schopenhauer. there was only one reason for the fact that this doctrine became for a short time the belief of the civilized world, the same reason that caused the success of the theory of the fall and redemption of man; to wit, that the deductions of this philosophical theory humoured the weak side of men's nature. it said, "all is reasonable, all is good; nobody is to blame for any thing." as at first with the church upon theological foundations, so also, with the philosophy of hegel for a base, a babel's tower was built (some who are behind the age are still sitting upon it); and here again was a confusion of tongues, men feeling that they themselves did not know of what they were talking, but were trying to conceal their ignorance and keep up their prestige before the crowd; and here again the masses found confirmation of their accepted teachings, and believed that whatever might seem to them bewildering and contradictory is as clear as day-light on philosophic altitudes. in the same way, the time came when this doctrine wore out and a new one replaced it. it had become useless, and the crowd peeped into the mysterious temples of the teachers, and saw there was nothing there--nor ever had been, but obscure and unmeaning words. i have seen this in my own day. when i began life, hegelianism was the order of the day; it was in the very air you breathed; it found its expression in newspapers and magazines, in lectures on history and on law, in novels, in tracts, in art, in sermons, in conversation. a man who did not know hegel had no right to open his mouth; those who desired to learn the truth were studying hegel,--every thing pointed to him; and lo! forty years have elapsed and nothing is left of him; there is no remembrance of him; all is as though he had never existed. and the most remarkable of all is, that just as false christianity, so also hegelianism has fallen, not because someone refuted or overthrew it; no, it is now as it was before, but both have only become no longer necessary for the learned, educated world. if at the present time we speak to any man of modern culture about the fall of the angel, of adam, about atonement, he does not argue or deny;--he simply asks, amazed, "what angel? adam? what for? what atonement? what is all this to me?" so also with hegelianism. no one of our day will argue its theses. he will only inquire, "what spirit?" "where did it come from?" "with what purpose?" "what good will it do me?" not very long ago the sages of hegelianism were solemnly teaching the crowd; and the crowd, understanding nothing, blindly believed all, finding the confirmation of what suited them, and thinking that what seemed to them to be not quite clear or even contradictory, was clearer than day on the heights of philosophy: but time went on, the theory was worn out, a new one appeared in its place, the former one was no longer demanded, and again the crowd looked into the mysterious temples of the augurs and saw there was nothing there, and that nothing had ever been there but words, very dark and meaningless. this happened within my memory. these things happened, we are told, because they were ravings of the theological and metaphysical period, but now we have a critical, positive science which will not deceive us, because it is based upon induction and experience; now our knowledge is no longer uncertain as it formerly was, and it is only by following it that one can find the answer to all the questions of life. but this is exactly what was said by the old teachers, and they certainly were no fools, and we know that among them were men of immense intellect; and within my memory the disciples of hegel said exactly the same thing, with no less assurance and no less acknowledgment on the side of the crowd of so-called educated people. and such men as our herzen, stankievich, bylinsky, were no fools either. but why, then, has this wonderful thing happened, that clever men preached with the greatest assurance and the crowd accepted with veneration, only groundless and meaningless doctrines? the reason is only that these doctrines justified men in their bad mode of living. a very commonplace english writer, whose books are now almost forgotten and recognized as the emptiest of all empty ones, wrote a tract upon population, in which he invented an imaginary law that the means of living do not increase with the increase of population. this sham law the author dressed out with the formulæ of mathematics which have no foundation whatever, and published it. judged by the lightness of mind and the want of talent displayed in this treatise we might have supposed that it would have passed unnoticed and been forgotten as all other writings of the same author have been; but it turned out quite differently. the author who wrote it became at once a scientific authority, and has maintained this position for nearly half a century. malthus! the malthusian theory,--the law of the increase of population in geometrical progression, and the increase of means of living in arithmetical progression, and the natural and prudent means of restraining the increase of population,--all these became scientific, undoubted truths which have never been verified, but, accepted as axioms, have served for further deductions. thus learned and educated men were deceived; whereas in the crowd of idle men there was a blind and religious trust in the great laws discovered by malthus. how did this happen? these statements seem to be scientific deductions which have nothing in common with the instincts of the crowd. but they are only sacred to those who believe science to be something self-existent and infallible, like the church, and not merely the thoughts of weak men liable to mistakes, who only for importance' sake call their own thoughts and words by a pompous word, _science_. it was only necessary to draw practical conclusions from the malthusian theory in order to see that it was quite a human one with very determinate aims. the deductions which were directly drawn from this theory were the following: the miserable condition of working-people does not come from the cruelty, egotism, and unreasonableness of rich and powerful men, but it exists according to an unchangeable law which does not depend upon man, and, if anybody is to blame, it is the starving working-people themselves: why do these fools come into the world when they know that they will not have enough to eat? and therefore the wealthy and powerful classes are not at all to blame for any thing, and they may quietly continue to live as they have done. this conclusion, being pleasant to the crowd of idle men, induced the learned dons to overlook the incorrectness and total arbitrariness of the deductions; and the crowd of educated, i.e., idle people, instinctively guessing to what these deductions led, greeted the theory with delight, set upon it the seal of truth, and cherished it during half a century. the reason for all this was, that these doctrines justified men in their bad mode of life. is not the same cause at the bottom of the self-assurance of men of the new positive, critical, experimental science, and of the reverent regard of the crowd to what they preach? at first it seems strange that the theory of evolution (like the theory of atonement in theology, it serves for the majority of men as a popular expression of the new teaching) should justify men in their false lives, and it would seem that the scientific theory has only to do with facts, and does nothing but observe facts. but it only seems so. it had been so with theological teaching; theology seemed to be occupied only with doctrines and to have nothing to do with the lives of men. it had been so with philosophy, which also seemed to be occupied only with facts. it had been so with the teaching of hegel on a large scale, and with the theory of malthus on a small one. hegelianism seemed to be occupied merely with its logical constructions and to have nothing to do with the lives of men; and the theory of malthus seemed to be occupied exclusively with statistics. but it only seemed so. modern science also claims to be occupied exclusively with facts: it studies facts. but what facts? why some facts and not others? the disciples of the modern science are very fond of saying with a solemn assurance, "we study facts alone," imagining that these words have some meaning. to study facts alone is quite impossible, because the number of facts which may be objects of our study, are, in the strict sense of the word, countless. before beginning to study facts, one must have some theory according to which the facts are studied; that is, determining which shall be selected from the countless number of facts. and this theory indeed exists and is even very definitely expressed, though many of the agents of modern science ignore it; that is, do not want to know it, or really do not know it;--sometimes pretend not to know it. thus matters stood before with all most important beliefs. the basis of each is always given in theory; and so-called learned men seek only further deductions from the various bases given to them, though sometimes they ignore even these. but a fundamental theory must always be present, and so it is also now. modern science selects its facts on the ground of a determinate theory, which sometimes it knows, sometimes does not wish to know, sometimes really does not know; but which exists. the theory is this: mankind is an undying organism, having each his special calling for the service of the whole. as the cells, growing into an organism, divide among themselves the labour of the struggle for existence of the whole organism, increase one capacity, and diminish another, and all together form an organ in order better to satisfy the wants of the whole organism; and as among social animals,--ants and bees,--the individuals divide the labour among themselves (queen-bees lay eggs, drone-bees fecundate, working-bees labour for the life of the whole),--so also in mankind and in human societies there take place the same differentiation and integration of the parts. and therefore, in order to find the law of man's life, we must study the laws of the lives and development of organisms. and in these we find the following laws: that each phenomenon is followed by more than one consequence. the failure of uniformity. the law of uniformity and diversity; and so on. all this seems to be very innocent, but we need only draw deductions from these observations of facts in order to see at once to what they are tending. these facts lead to one thing,--the acknowledgement of humanity or human society as an organism, and hence to the acknowledgment of the division of activities in human society as organic, that is necessary; and as there exist in human societies many cruelties and vices, therefore these phenomena must not be considered as cruelties and vices, but must be accepted as inevitable facts confirming a general law--i.e., that of "division of labour." moral philosophy used also to justify every cruelty and wickedness; but there it became philosophical, and therefore incorrect. according to science, however, the same thing turns out to be scientific, and therefore unquestionable. how can we help accepting such a fine theory! we need only look at human society merely as something to be observed, and we may quietly devour the labour of perishing men, calming ourselves with the idea that our activity as a dancing-master, a lawyer, a doctor, a philosopher, an actor, an investigator of the theory of mediumism and of forms of atoms, and so on, is a functional activity of the organism of mankind and therefore there can be no question whether it is just that i should continue to live doing only what is pleasant, just as there can be no question whether the division of labour between a mental and a muscular cell is fair or not. how can we help accepting such a nice theory which enables us afterwards to put our consciences into our pockets forever, and live a completely unbridled, animal life, feeling under our feet a firm, scientific support? and it is upon this new belief that the justification of idleness and the cruelty of men is built. chapter xxx this doctrine had its commencement about half a century ago. its chief founder was the french philosopher comte. comte, being a lover of systematic theory, and at the same time a man of religious tendency, was impressed by the then new physiological researches of bichat; and he conceived the old idea, expressed in bygone days by menenius agrippa, that human societies, indeed all human-kind, may be regarded as one whole, an organism, and men--as live particles of separate organs, each having his definite destination to fulfil in the service of the whole organism. comte was so fascinated by this idea that he founded his philosophical theory on it; and this theory so captivated him that he quite forgot that his point of departure was no more than a pretty comparison, suitable enough in a fable, but in no way justifiable as the foundation of a science. as it often happens, he took his pet hypothesis for an axiom, and so imagined that his whole theory was based upon the most firm and positive foundations. according to his theory it appeared that, as mankind is an organism, therefore the knowledge of what man is and what his relation to the world ought to be, is only possible through the knowledge of the properties of this organism. and to be able to learn these properties man is fitted to make observations upon other lower organisms and to draw deductions from their lives. therefore, first, the true and exclusive method of science, according to comte, is the inductive one, and science is only science when it has experiment for its basis. secondly, the final aim and the summit of science becomes the new science concerning the imaginary organism of mankind, or the organic being,--mankind. this new hypothetic science is sociology. from this view of science it generally turns out that all former knowledge was false, and that the whole history of mankind, in the sense of its self-consciousness, divides itself into three, or rather two, periods. first, the theological and metaphysical period, from the beginning of the world to comte. and, secondly, the modern period of true science, positive science, beginning with comte. all this was very well, but there was one mistake in it, which was this: that all this edifice was built on the sand, on an arbitrary (and incorrect) assertion that mankind, collectively considered, was an organism. this assertion is arbitrary because, if we are to acknowledge the existence of mankind as an organism, which is beyond observation, we might as well acknowledge the existence of the triple god and similar theological propositions. it was incorrect, because to the idea of mankind, that is, of men, the definition of an organism was added, whereas man lacks the essential characteristics of an organism,--a centre of sensation or consciousness. we call an elephant, as well as a bacterium, organisms, only because we suppose by analogy in these beings that there is unification of sensations, or consciousness. but human societies and mankind lack this essential; and therefore, however many other general character-signs we may find in mankind and in an organism,--without this, the assertion that man is an organism is incorrect. but notwithstanding the arbitrariness and incorrectness of the fundamental proposition of positive philosophy, it was accepted by the so-called "educated world" with great sympathy, because of that great fact, important for the crowd, that it afforded a justification of the existing order of things by recognizing the lawfulness of the existing division of labour; that is, of violence in mankind. it is remarkable in this respect that from the writings of comte, composed of two parts,--a positive philosophy and a positive politics,--only the first part was accepted on new experimental principles by the learned world, that which justified the existing evil in human society. the second part, treating of the moral, altruistic duties, following from this recognition of mankind as an organism, was considered not only unimportant but even unscientific. here the same thing was repeated which occurred with the two parts of kant's writings. the "critique of pure reason," was accepted by science; but the "critique of practical reason," that part which contains the essence of moral doctrine, was rejected. in the teaching of comte, that was recognized to be scientific which humoured the reigning evil. but the positive philosophy accepted by the crowd, based on an arbitrary and incorrect supposition, was by itself too ill-grounded, and therefore too unsteady, and could not be sustained by itself. and now, among the idle play of ideas of so-called "men of science," there has appeared a similarly arbitrary and incorrect assertion, not at all new, to the effect that all living beings (that is, organisms), proceed one from another; not only one organism from another, but one organism from many; that during a very long period, a million of years, for instance, not only may a fish and a duck have proceeded from one and the same forefather, but also one organism might have proceeded from many separate organisms; so, for instance, out of a swarm of bees a single animal may proceed. this arbitrary and incorrect assertion was accepted by the learned world with still greater sympathy. the assertion was arbitrary, because no one has ever seen how one kind of organism is made from others; and therefore the hypothesis about the origin of species will always remain a mere supposition and never become an experimental fact. the hypothesis was incorrect, because the solution of the problem of the origin of species by the theory of the laws of inheritance and accommodation during an infinitely long period, is not a solution of the problem at all, but the mere reiteration of the question in another form. according to the solution of this problem by moses (to oppose which is the object of comte's theory), it appeared that the variety of the species of living beings proceeded from the will of god and his infinite omnipotence. according to the theory of evolution, it appears that the variety of species of living beings proceeded from themselves in consequence of the infinite variety of conditions of inheritance and environment in an infinite period of time. the theory of evolution, speaking plainly, asserts only that (by chance) in an infinite period of time, anything you like may proceed from anything else you choose. this is no answer to the question; it is simply the same question put differently: instead of will is put chance, and the co-efficient of the infinite is transferred from omnipotence to time. but this new assertion, enforced by darwin's followers in an arbitrary and inaccurate spirit, maintained the first assertion of comte, and therefore it became the revelation for our time, and the foundation of all sciences, even that of the history of philosophy and religion; and besides, according to the _naïve_ confession of darwin himself, the idea was awakened in him by the law of malthus; and therefore he pointed to the "struggle for existence" not only of men but of all living beings, as a fundamental law of every living thing, and this was exactly what was wanted by the crowd of idle people for their own justification. two unstable theories which could not stand on their own feet supported each other, and so received a show of stability. both the theories bore in them a sense, precious to the crowd, that men are not to be blamed for the existing evil in human societies, that the existing order is what should be; and thus the new theory was accepted by the crowd in the sense wanted by them, with full confidence and unprecedented enthusiasm. thus the new scientific doctrine was founded upon two arbitrary and incorrect propositions, accepted in the same way that dogmas of faith are accepted. both in matter and form this new doctrine is remarkably like the church-christian one. in matter, the similarity lies in the fact that in both doctrines alike a fantastical meaning is attached to really existing things, and this artificial meaning is taken as the object of our research. in the church-christian doctrine, to christ who did really exist, is attributed the fantastic conception of being god himself, screened. in the positive doctrine, to the really existing fact of live men is attributed the fantastical attributes of an organism. in form, the similarity of these two doctrines is remarkable, since, in both cases, a theory emanating from one class of men is accepted as the only and infallible truth. in the church-christian doctrine, the church's way of understanding god's revelation to men is regarded as the sacred and only true one. in the doctrine of positivism, certain men's way of understanding science is regarded as absolutely correct and true. as the church-christians regard the foundation of their church as the only origin of true knowledge of god, and only out of a kind of courtesy admit that former believers may also be regarded as having formed a church; so in precisely the same manner does positive science, according to its own statement, place its origin in comte: and its representatives, also only out of courtesy, admit the existence of previous science, and that only as regarding certain thinkers, as, for instance, aristotle. both the church and positive science altogether exclude the ideas of all the rest of mankind, and regard all knowledge outside their own as _erroneous_. the similarity persists. just as to the support of the first advental theological dogmas of the trinity and of the divinity of christ comes the old--but newly-interpreted--dogmas of man's fall and of his redemption by the death of christ, and out of these dogmas is developed popular church teaching: so in our time, the old dogma of evolution comes in with new importance to help the fundamental dogma of comte concerning the organism of mankind; and from these two elements the popular scientific doctrine has been formed. as in one teaching, so in the other: the new dogma is necessary for the support of the old one, and becomes comprehensible only in connection with it. if to a believer in the divinity of christ, it is not clearly comprehensible why god should come down to earth, the doctrine of atonement explains it. if it is not quite clear to a believer in the organism of mankind why a collection of individuals may be counted as an organism, the dogma of evolution is charged with the explanation. this dogma is needed to reconcile the contradictions and certainties of the first: mankind is an organism, and we see that it does not contain the chief characteristic of an organism; how must we account for it? here the dogma of evolution comes in, and explains, mankind is an organism in a state of development. if you accept this, you may then consider mankind as such. as to any man free from superstitions about the trinity and the divinity of christ, it is impossible even to understand the force and the meaning of the teaching of atonement, which meaning comes only through the acknowledgment of christ as god himself, so a man who is free from the positive superstition cannot even understand wherein lies the interest of the theory of the origin of species and of evolution; and this interest is explained only when we learn the fundamental dogma, that "mankind is an organism." and as the subtleties of theology are only intelligible to those who believe in its fundamental dogmas, so also the subtleties of sociology, which now occupy the minds of all adherents of this recent and profound science, are intelligible only to believers. the doctrine of atonement is necessary to reconcile the contradiction between the first dogma and facts. god descended on earth to save men. but men are not saved. how then explain this? the dogma of atonement asserts "he saved those, who believed in atonement. if you believe in atonement, you are saved." the similarity between these two doctrines holds good yet further. being founded on dogmas accepted by faith, these doctrines neither question nor analyze their own principles, which, on the other hand, are used as starting-points for the most extraordinary theories. the preachers of these call themselves, in theology, sanctified; in positive knowledge, scientific; in both cases, infallible. and at the same time, they conceive the most peremptory, incredible, and unfounded assertions, which they give forth with the greatest pomp and seriousness, and which are with equal pomp and seriousness contradicted in all their details by others who do not agree, and yet who equally recognize the fundamental dogmas. the basil the great of scientific doctrine, herbert spencer, in one of his first writings expresses these doctrines thus: societies and organisms, says he, are alike in the following points: first, in that, being conceived as small aggregates, they imperceptibly grow in mass, so that some of them become ten thousand times bigger than their originals. secondly, in that, while in the beginning they have such simple structure that they may almost be considered structureless, in their growth they develop an ever-increasing complexity of structure. thirdly, in that, though in their early undeveloped period there does not exist among them any dependence of particles upon one another, these particles by and by acquire a mutual dependence, which at last becomes so strong that the activity and the life of each part is possible only with the activity and the lives of all others. fourthly, in this, that the life and the development of society is more independent and longer than the life and the development of every unit which goes to form it, and which is separately born and growing and acting and multiplying and dying while the political body formed of such continues to live one generation after another, developing in mass, in perfection of structure, and in functional activity. then follow the points of difference between organisms and societies, and it is demonstrated that these differences are only seeming ones, and that organisms and societies are quite similar. to an impartial man the question at once arises, what are you speaking about, then? why is mankind an organism or something similar? you say that societies are similar to organisms according to these four points; but even this comparison is incorrect. you take only a few characteristics of an organism, and you then apply them to human societies. you produce four points of similarity, then you take the points of difference which you say are only seemingly so, and you conclude that human societies may be considered as organisms. but this is nothing else than an idle play of dialectics. on this ground we may consider as an organism everything we choose. i take the first thing which comes to my mind,--a forest, as it is planted in a field and grows up: first beginning as a small aggregate and imperceptibly increasing in mass. secondly, "in the beginning the structure of an organism is simple, then the complexity increases," and so on. this is the case with the forest: at first there are only birch-trees, then hazel, and so on; first all the trees grow straight, and afterwards they interlace their branches. thirdly, "the dependence of the parts increases so that the life of each part depends upon the lives and activities of all the others": it is exactly the same with the forest; the nut-tree keeps the trunks warm (if you hew it down, the other trees will be frozen in winter), the underwood keeps off wind, the seed-trees continue the species, the tall and leafy ones give shadow, and the life of each tree depends upon that of the rest. fourthly, "separate parts may die, but the whole organism continues to live." separate trees perish, but the forest continues in life and growth. the same holds good with the example so often brought by the defenders of the scientific doctrine. cut off an arm,--the arm will die: we may say remove a tree from the shadow and the ground of a forest, it will die. another remarkable similarity between this scientific doctrine and the church-christian one,--and any other theory founded upon propositions which are accepted through faith,--lies in their mutual capacity of being proof against logic. having demonstrated that by this theory a forest may be considered as an organism, you think you have proved to the followers of the theory the incorrectness of their definition? not at all. their definition of an organism is so loose and plastic that they can apply it to everything they like. yes, they will say, you may consider the forest, too, as an organism. a forest is a mutual co-operation of the individuals who do not destroy each other; an aggregate: its parts can also pass into a closer relationship, and by differentiation and integration it may become an organism. then you will say, that in that case, the birds too and the insects, and the herbs of this forest, which mutually co-operate and do not destroy each other, may be considered, with the trees, to be an organism. they would agree to this, too. according to their theory, we may consider as an organism every collection of living beings which mutually co-operate, and do not destroy one another. you can establish a connection and co-operation between everything you like, and, according to evolution, you can assert that from anything may proceed anything else you like, if a long enough period is granted. to those who believe in the trinity, it is impossible to prove that it does not exist. but one can show them that their assertion is not based on knowledge, but is an assertion of faith, and that if they assert that there are three gods, i have an equal right to assert that there are ½ gods. one may say the same thing with yet better ground to the followers of positive and evolutional science. on the basis of this science one could undertake to prove anything one liked. and the strangest thing of all is, that this same positive science regards the scientific method as a condition of true knowledge, and that it has itself defined the elements of the scientific method. it professes that common sense is the scientific method. and yet common sense itself discloses the fallacies of the doctrine at every step. the moment those who occupied the position of saints felt there was no longer anything sacred in them, that they are cursed like the pope and our own synod, they immediately called themselves not merely sacred, but "most sacred." the moment science felt that it had given up common sense, it called itself the science of reason, the only really scientific science. chapter xxxi "division of labour" is the law pervading everything that exists, therefore it must exist in human societies too. that may be so; but the question still remains, whether the existing division of labour in human society is the division which ought to exist. and when men consider a certain division of labour unreasonable and unjust, no science whatever can prove to men that what they consider unreasonable and unjust ought to continue. the theological theory demonstrated that "power is of god"; and it very well may be so. but the question still remains, to whom is the power given, to catherine the empress, or to the rebel pugatchof? and no theological subtleties whatever can solve this difficulty. moral philosophy demonstrates that "a state is merely a form of the social development of the individual"; but the question still remains,--can the state of a nero or that of a gengis khan be considered a form of such development? and no transcendentalism whatever can solve that difficulty. it is the same with scientific science also. division of labour is the condition of the life of organisms and of human societies; but what have we to consider in these human societies as an organic division of labour? however much science studies the division of labour in the molecules of a tape-worm, all the observations cannot compel men to acknowledge as correct a division of labour which is repudiated by their reason and conscience. however convincing the proofs of the division of labour in the cells of investigated organisms may be, a man who has not yet lost his reason will say it is wrong that some should only weave cloth all their long life, and that this is not division of labour, but oppression of human beings. herbert spencer and others affirm that as there is a whole population of weavers, the weaver's activity is in organic division of labour. in saying this they use a similar line of reasoning to the theologians: there is a power, therefore it is of god, whatever it may be: there are weavers, therefore they exist as a result of the law of division of labour. there might be some sense in this if the power and the position of weavers were created by themselves; but we know that they are not but that it is we who create them. well, then, we ought to ascertain whether we have established this power according to the will of god or of ourselves, and whether we have called these weavers into being by virtue of some organic law or from some other cause. here are men earning their living by agriculture, as it is proper for all men to do: one man has set up a smith's forge and mended his plough; his neighbour comes to him and asks him to mend his plough, too, and promises to give labour or money in return. a second comes with a similar request; others follow; and in the society of these men a form of division of labour arises. thus, one man becomes a smith. another man has taught his children well; his neighbour brings him his children and asks him to teach them, and thus a teacher is formed: but the smith as well as the teacher become, and continue to be, a smith and a teacher, only because they were asked, and they remain a smith and a teacher only as long as people require their trades. if it happens that too many smiths and teachers appear, or if their labour is no longer wanted, they at once, according to common sense, throw aside their trade and become labourers again, as it everywhere and always happens where there is no cause for the violation of a right division of labour. men who behave in such a way are directed both by their reason and their conscience; and therefore we who are endowed with reason and conscience, all agree that such a division of labour is a right one. but if it were to happen that smiths, having the possibility of compelling other men to labour for them, were to continue to make horseshoes when there was no longer a demand for them, and teachers were to wish to continue to teach when there was nobody to be taught, then, to every impartial man endowed with reason and conscience, it would be obvious that this is not real division of labour but a usurpation of other men's labour; because such a division could no longer be tested satisfactorily by the sole standard by which we may know whether it is right or not,--the demand of such labour by other men, and a voluntary compensation offered for it by them. but exactly such a surplus, however, is what scientific science terms "a division of labour." men do what is not required, and they ask to be fed for it, and say it is just, because it is division of labour. the chief _social_ evil of a people,--not with us alone,--is the countless horde of state officials. the chief cause of the _economical_ misery of our days, is what is called in england "over-production" (that is, the production of an enormous quantity of articles, wanted by nobody, and which no one knows how to get rid of). all this comes simply from the strange idea about the "division of labour?" it would be very strange to see a boot-maker who considered that men were bound to feed him because, forsooth, he continued to produce boots wanted by no one; but what shall we say about those men in government, church, science, and art, who not only do not produce any thing tangibly useful for the people but whose produce is wanted by nobody, yet who as boldly require to be well fed and clothed on account of "the division of labour." there may be magicians for whose activity there is a demand and to whom men give casks and spirits; but we cannot even imagine the existence of magicians who, while their magic is not wanted by anybody, require to be fed simply because they wish to practice their art. yet in our world this is the very position of the men in church and state, of the men of science and art. and it all proceeds from that false conception of the division of labour, defined, not by reason and conscience, but by deductions to which these scientists so unanimously resort. division of labour, indeed, has always existed; but it is correct only when man decides it by his reason and conscience, and not by his making observations on it. and the conscience and the reason of all men solve this question in the simplest and surest way. they always decide the question by recognizing the division of labour to be right only when the special activity of a man is so necessary to others, that they freely offer to feed him in compensation for what they ask him to do for them. but when a man from his infancy up to his thirtieth year lives on the shoulders of other men, promising to do, when he finishes his studies, something very useful, which nobody has ever asked him for, and then for the rest of his life lives in the same way, promising only to do presently something which nobody asks him to do, this would not be a true division of labour, but, as it really is, only the violation by a strong man of the labour of others; the same appropriation of other men's labour by a strong man, which formerly theology called divine predestination; philosophy, inevitable conditions of life; and now scientific science, the organic division of labour. the entire importance of the ruling science consists in this alone. this science is now the dispenser of diplomas for idleness, because in her temples she alone analyzes and determines what activity in the social organism is parasitic and what organic. as if each man could not decide much better and more quickly, too, by consulting his own reason and conscience. as formerly, both for clergy and for statesmen, there could have been no doubt as to who were most necessary to other people, so now for the believers in positive science it seems that there can be no doubt about this, that their own activity is undoubtedly an organic one: they, the factors of science and art, are the cells of the brain, the most precious cells of all the human organism. let us leave them to reign, eat, drink, and be feasted, as priests and sophists of old have before them, so long as they do not deprave men! since men are reasonable creatures they have discriminated good from evil, making use of what has been done in this direction before them by others, have struggled with evil, seeking a true and better way, and slowly but unceasingly have advanced in this way. but always across the road different deceptions stood before them, trying to assure them that this struggle was not at all necessary, and that they should submit to the tide of life. first the awful deceptions of the old church; little by little with dreadful struggle and effort men got rid of them: but scarcely had they done so when in their place arose new ones--state and philosophical deceptions. men freed themselves from these too, and now a new deceit, a still worse one, has sprung up in their path,--the scientific deception. this new deception is exactly what the old ones were: its essence consists in the substitution of an externality for reason and conscience, and this externality is _observation_, as in theology it was _revelation_. the snare of this science consists in this, that having exposed some bare-faced perversions of the activity of reason and conscience, it destroys men's confidence in both reason and conscience. hiding their lie clothed in a scientific theory, scientists assure men that by studying external phenomena they study undeniable facts which will reveal to them the law of man's life. things which are the property of conscience and reason are now to be discovered by observation alone. these men lose the conception of good and evil and thus become unable to understand those expressions and definitions of good and evil which have been worked out during the entire former existence of mankind. all that reason and conscience say to them, all that they have said to the highest representatives of men since the world has existed, all this, in their slang, is "conditional and subjective." all this must be left behind. it is said that by reason one cannot apprehend the truth, because reason is liable to error: there is another way, unmistakable and almost mechanical,--one must study facts on the ground of science; that is, on two groundless suppositions, positivism and evolution, which are offered as the most undoubted truths. with mock solemnity the ruling science asserts that the solution of all the questions of life is only possible through studying the facts of nature, and especially those of organisms. the credulous crowd of youth, overwhelmed by the novelty of this authority,--not only not destroyed, not yet even touched by critics,--rush to the study of these facts of natural sciences, to that "only way" which, according to the assertion of the ruling doctrine, alone can lead to the elucidation of all questions of life. but the farther the students proceed in this study, the farther do they remove not only the possibility of solving the questions of life, but even the very thought of this solution. the more they grow accustomed, not so much to observe themselves, as to believe other men's observations on their word (to believe in cells, in protoplasm, in the fourth dimension of matter, and so on), the more the form hides from them the contents. the more they lose the consciousness of good and evil and the capacity of understanding those expressions and definitions of good and evil which have been worked out in all the former career of mankind, the more they appropriate to themselves that special scientific slang of "conditional" expressions which have no common human meaning in them. the farther and farther they get into the thick forest of observations lighted by anything, the more they lose the capacity, not only of independent thought, but even of understanding other men's fresh human ideas which are not included in their talmud. but chiefly they pass their best years in losing the habit of life, that is, of labour, and accustom themselves to consider their own position justified, and thus become, physically, good-for-nothing parasites, and, mentally, dislocate their brains and lose all power of thought-production. so, their capacities more and more blunted, they acquire by degrees self-assurance which deprives them forever of the possibility of returning to a simple, laborious life, and to any plain, clear, common, human manner of thinking. chapter xxxii the division of labour has always existed in human society, and i daresay always will exist; but the question for us is, not if it has been and will still continue, but, what should guide us in providing that this division may be a right one. if we take the facts of observation for our standard, we refuse to have any standard at all: for every division of labour which we see among men, and which may seem to us to be right, we shall consider right; and this is what the ruling scientific science is leading us to. division of labour! "some are occupied with mental and spiritual, others with muscular and physical, labour." with what an assurance men express this! they wish to think it, and so that which is transparently the ancient violence, seems to them in reality a fair exchange of services. "thou," or rather, "you" (because it is always the many who have to feed the one),--"you feed me, dress me, do for me all this rough labour which i require of you, and to which you are accustomed from your infancy, and i will do for you that mental work to which i have already become accustomed. give me bodily food, and in return i will give you the spiritual." the statement seems fair; and it would really be so if such exchange of services were free; if those who supply the bodily food were not obliged to supply it before they get the spiritual. the producer of the spiritual food says, "in order that i may be able to give you this food, you must feed me, clothe me, and remove all filth from my house." but the producer of bodily food must do his work without making any claims of his own, and he has to give the bodily food whether he receive spiritual food or not. if the exchange were a free one the conditions on both sides would be equal. we agree that spiritual food is as necessary to man as bodily. but the learned man, the artist, says, "before we can begin to serve men by giving them spiritual food, we want men to provide us with bodily food." but why should not the producers of this say, "before we begin to serve you with bodily food, we want spiritual food; and until we receive it, we cannot labour?" you say, "i require the labour of a ploughman, a smith, a book-maker, a carpenter, masons, and others, in order that i may prepare the spiritual food i have to offer." every workman might say, too, "before i go to work to prepare bodily food for you, i want the fruits of the spirit. in order to have strength for labouring, i require a religious teaching, the social order of common life, application of knowledge to labour, and the joys and comforts which art gives. i have no time to work out for myself a teaching concerning the meaning of life,--give it to me. i have no time to think out statutes of common life which would prevent the violation of justice,--give me this too. i have no time to study mechanics, natural philosophy, chemistry, technology; give me books with information as to how i am to improve my tools, my ways of working, my dwelling, its heating and lighting. i have no time to occupy myself with poetry, with plastic art, or music. give me the excitements and comforts necessary for life; give me the productions of the arts." you say it would be impossible for you to do your important and necessary business if you were deprived of the labour that working-people do for you; and i say, a workman may declare, "it is impossible for me to do my important and necessary business, not less important than yours,--to plough, to cart away refuse, and to clean _your_ houses,--if i am deprived of a religious guidance corresponding to the wants of my intellect and my conscience, of a reasonable government which will secure my labour, of information for easing my labour, and the enjoyment of art to ennoble it. all you have hitherto offered me in the shape of spiritual food is not only of no use to me whatever, i cannot even understand to whom it could be of any use. and until i receive this nourishment, proper for me as for every man, i cannot produce bodily food to feed you with." what if the working-people should speak thus? and if they did, it would be no jest but the simplest justice. if a workman said this, he would be far more in the right than a man of intellectual labour; because the labour produced by the workman is more urgent and more necessary than that of the intellectual worker, and because a man of intellect is hindered by nothing from giving that spiritual food which he promised to give, while the workingman is hindered in giving the bodily food by the fact that he himself is short of it. what, then, should we intellectual labourers answer, if such simple and lawful claims were made upon us? how should we satisfy these claims? should we satisfy the religious wants of the people by the catechism of philaret, by sacred histories of sokolof, by the literature sent out by monasteries and cathedrals? should we satisfy their demand for order by the "code of laws," and cassation verdicts of different departments, or by reports of committees and commissions? and should we satisfy their want of knowledge by giving them spectrum analysis, a survey of the milky way, speculative geometry, microscopic investigations, controversies concerning spiritualism and mediumism, the activity of academies of science? how should we satisfy their artistic wants? by pushkin, dostoyevsky, turgenief, l. tolstoy? by pictures of french _salons_, and of those of our artists who represent naked women, satin, velvet, and landscapes, and pictures of domestic life; by the music of wagner, and that of our own musicians? all this is of no use and cannot be of use because we, with our right to utilize the labour of the people and absence of all duties in preparation of their spiritual food, have quite lost from sight the single destination our activity should have. we do not even know what is required by the workman; we have even forgotten his mode of life, his views of things, his language; we have even lost sight of the very working-people themselves, and we study them like some ethnographical rarity or newly-discovered continent. demanding for ourselves bodily food, we have taken upon ourselves to provide the spiritual; but in consequence of the imaginary division of labour, according to which we may not only first take our dinner and afterwards do our work, but may during many generations dine luxuriously and do no work,--we, in the way of compensation for our food, have prepared something which is of use, as it seems to us, for ourselves and for science and art, but of no use whatever for those very people whose labour we consume under the pretext of providing them in return with intellectual food; not only is of no use, but is quite unintelligible and distasteful to them. in our blindness, we have to such a degree left out of sight the duty we took upon us, that we have even forgotten for what our labour is being done; and the very people whom we undertook to serve we have made an object of our scientific and artistic activities. we study them and represent them for our own pleasure and amusement: but we have quite forgotten that it is our duty, not to study and depict, but to serve them. we have to such a degree left out of sight the duty we assumed that we have not even noticed that other people do what we undertook in the departments of science and art, and that our place turns out to be occupied. it appears that while we have been in controversy,--now about the immaculate conception, and now about spontaneous generation; now about spiritualism, and now about the forms of atoms; now about pangenesis, now about protoplasms, and so on,--all this while the people none the less required spiritual food, and the abortive outcasts of science and art began to provide for the people this spiritual food to the order of various speculators, who had in view exclusively their own profit and gain. now, for some forty years in europe, and ten years in russia, millions of books and pictures and songs have been circulating; shows have been opened: and the people gaze and sing, and receive intellectual food, though not from those who promised to provide it for them; and we, who justify our idleness by the need for that intellectual food which we pretend to provide for the people, are sitting still, and taking no notice. but we cannot do so, because our final justification has vanished from under our feet. we have taken upon ourselves a peculiar department: we have a peculiar functional activity of our own. we are the brain of the people. they feed us, and we have undertaken to teach them. only for the sake of this have we freed ourselves from labour. what, then, have we been teaching them? they have waited years, tens of years, hundreds of years. and we are still conversing among ourselves, and teaching each other, and amusing ourselves, and have quite forgotten them; we have so totally forgotten them, that others have taken upon themselves to teach and amuse them, and we have not even become aware of this in our flippant talk about division of labour: and it is very obvious that all our talk about the utility we offer to the people was only a shameful excuse. chapter xxxiii there was a time when the _church_ guided the intellectual life of the men of our world. the church promised men happiness, and, in compensation for this she freed herself from taking part in mankind's common struggle for life. as soon as she did this she went away from her calling, and men turned from her. it was not the _errors_ of the church which originally caused her ruin, but the fact that by the help of the secular power, in the time of constantine, her ministers violated the law of labour; and then their claim to idleness and luxury gave birth to the errors. as soon as she obtained this power she began to care for herself, and not for humanity, whom she had taken upon herself to serve. the ministers of the church gave themselves up to idleness and depravity. _the state_ took upon itself to guide men's lives. the state promised men justice, peace, security, order, satisfaction of common intellectual and material wants; and, in compensation, men who served the state freed themselves from taking part in the struggle for life. and the state's servants, as soon as they were able to utilize other men's labour, acted in the same way as the ministers of the church. they had not in view the people; but, from kings down to the lowest state functionaries, in rome, as well as in france, england, russia, and america, they gave themselves over to idleness and depravity. now men have lost their faith in the state, and anarchy is now seriously advocated as an ideal. the state has lost its prestige among men, only because its ministers have claimed the right of utilizing the people's labour for themselves. _science and art_ have done the same, assisted by the state power which they took upon themselves to sustain. they also have claimed and obtained for themselves the right of idleness and of utilizing other men's labour, and also have been false to their calling. and their errors, too, proceeded only from the fact that their ministers, pointing to a falsely conceived principle of the division of labour, claimed for themselves the right to utilize the work of the people, and so lost the meaning of their calling, making the aim of their activity, not the utility of the people, but some mysterious activity of science and art; and also, like their forerunners, they have given themselves over to idleness and depravity, though not so much to a fleshly as to an intellectual corruption. it is said that science and art have done much for mankind. that is quite true. church and state have given much to humanity, not because they abused their power, or because their ministers forsook the common life of men, and the eternal duty of labour for life--but in spite of this. the roman republic was powerful, not because its citizens were able to lead a life of depravity, but because it could number among them men who were virtuous. this is the case with science and art. science and art have effected much for mankind, not because their ministers had sometimes formerly, and have always at present, the possibility of freeing themselves from labour, but because men of genius, not utilizing these rights, have forwarded the progress of mankind. the class of learned men and artists who claim, on account of a false division of labour, the right of utilizing other men's labour, cannot contribute to the progress of true science and true art, because a lie can never produce a truth. we are so accustomed to our pampered or debilitated representatives of intellectual labour, that it would seem very strange if a learned man or an artist were to plough, or cart manure. we think that, were he to do so, all would go to ruin; that all his wisdom would be shaken out of him, and that the great artistic images he carries in his breast would be soiled by the manure: but we are so accustomed to our present conditions that we do not wonder at our ministers of science, that is, ministers and teachers of truth, compelling other people to do for them that which they could very well do themselves, passing half their time eating, smoking, chattering in "liberal" gossip, reading newspapers, novels, visiting theatres; we are not surprised to see our philosopher in an inn, in a theatre, at a ball; we do not wonder when we learn that those artists who delight and ennoble our souls, pass their lives in drunkenness, in playing cards, in company with loose women, or do things still worse. science and art are fine things: but just because they are fine things men ought not to spoil them by associating them with depravity;--by freeing themselves from man's duty to serve by labour his own life and the lives of other men. science and art have forwarded the progress of mankind. yes; but not because men of science and art, under the pretext of a division of labour, taught men by word, and chiefly by deed, to utilize by violence the misery and sufferings of the people in order to free themselves from the very first and unquestionable human duty of labouring with their hands in the common struggle of mankind with nature. chapter xxxiv "but," you say, "it is this very division of labour, the freeing men of science and of art from the necessity of earning their bread, that has rendered possible the extraordinary success in science which we see to-day. "if everybody were to plough, these enormous results would not be attained; you would not have those astonishing successes which have so enlarged man's power over nature; you would not have those discoveries in astronomy which so strike the minds of men and promote navigation; there would be no steamers, railways, wonderful bridges, tunnels, steam-engines, telegraphs, photographs, telephones, sewing-machines, phonographs, electricity, telescopes, spectroscopes, microscopes, chloroform, lister bandages, carbolic acid." i will not attempt to enumerate all the things of which our century is proud. this enumeration, and the ecstasy of the contemplation of ourselves and of our great deeds you can find in almost every newspaper and popular book. and these raptures are so often repeated, and we are so seldom tired of praising ourselves, that we really have come to believe, with jules verne, that science and art never made such progress as in our time. and as all this is rendered possible only by division of labour, how can we avoid countenancing it? let us suppose that the progress of our century is really striking, astonishing, extraordinary; let us suppose, too, that we are particularly lucky in living at such an extraordinary time: but let us try to ascertain the value of these successes, not by our own self-contentment, but by the very principle of the division of labour; that is, by the intellectual labour of scientists for the advantage of the people which has to compensate for the freedom of its servants from manual toil. this progress is very striking indeed; but owing to some bad luck, recognized, too, by the men of science, this progress has not yet ameliorated, but has rather deteriorated, the condition of working men. though a working man, instead of walking, can use the railway, it is this very railway which has caused his forest to be burned and has carried away his bread from under his very nose, and put him into a condition which is next door to slavery to the railway proprietor. if, thanks to steam-engines and machines, a workman can buy cheap and bad calico, it is these very engines and machines which have deprived him of his livelihood and brought him to a state of entire slavery to the manufacturer. if there are telegraphs, which he is not forbidden to use but which he does not use because he cannot afford it, still each of his productions, the value of which rises, is bought up at low prices before his very eyes by capitalists, thanks to that telegraph, before he has even become aware that the article is in demand. if there are telephones and telescopes, novels, operas, picture-galleries, and so on, the life of the workman is not at all improved by any of them, because all, owing to the same unlucky chance, are beyond his reach. so that, after all, these wonderful discoveries and productions of art, if they have not made the life of working-people worse, have by no means improved it: and on this the men of science are agreed. so that, if we apply, not our self-contemplating rapture, but the very standard on which the ground of the division of labour is defended,--utility to the working-world,--to the question as to the reality of the successes attained by the sciences and arts, we shall see that we have not yet any sound reason for the self-contentment to which we consign ourselves so willingly. a peasant uses the railway; a peasant's wife buys calico; in the cottage a lamp, and not a pine-knot, burns; and the peasant lights his pipe with a match,--all this is comfortable; but what right have i from this to say that railways and factories have done good to the people? if a peasant uses the railway, and buys a lamp, calico, and matches, he does it only because we cannot forbid his doing so: but we all know very well that railways and factories were not built for the use of the people; and why, then, should the casual comfort a workman obtains by chance be brought forward as a proof of the usefulness of these institutions to the people? we all know very well that if the engineers and capitalists who build a railway or a factory thought about the working-people, they thought only how to make the most possible use of them. and we see they have fully succeeded in doing so in europe and america, as well as in russia. in every hurtful thing there is something useful. after a house has been burned down we can sit and warm ourselves, and light our pipes from one of the fire-brands; but should we therefore say that a conflagration is beneficial? whatever we do, do not let us deceive ourselves. we all know very well the motives for building railways and factories, and for producing kerosene and matches. an engineer builds a railway for the government, to facilitate wars, or for the capitalists for their financial purposes. he makes machines for manufacturers for his own advantage and for the profit of capitalists. all that he makes or plans he does for the purpose of the government, the capitalists, and other rich people. his most skilful inventions are either directly harmful to the people, such as guns, torpedoes, solitary prisons, and so on; or they are not only useless but quite inaccessible to them, such as electric light, telephones, and the innumerable improvements of comfort; or lastly, they deprave the people and rob them of their last kopek, that is, their last labour, for spirits, wine, beer, opium, tobacco, finery, and all sorts of trifles. but if it happens sometimes that the inventions of men of science and the works of engineers, are of use to the people, as, for instance, railways, calicoes, steel, scythes, it only proves that in this world of ours everything is mutually connected, and that out of every hurtful activity there may arise an accidental good for those to whom the activity was hurtful. men of science and of art could say that their activity was useful for the people, only if in their activity they have aimed at serving the people, as they now aim to serve the government and capitalists. we could have said that, only if the men of science and art made the wants of the people their object; but such is not the case. all learned men are occupied with their sacred businesses, which lead to the investigation of protoplasms, the spectrum analysis of stars, and so on: but concerning investigations as to how to set an axe, or with what kind it is more advantageous to hew; which saw is the most handy; with what flour bread shall be made, how it may best be kneaded, how to set it to rise; how to heat and to build stoves; what food, drink or crockery-ware it is best to use; what mushrooms may be eaten, and how they may be prepared more conveniently,--science never troubles itself, or does so very slightly. yet all this is the business of science. i know that, according to its own definition, science must be useless; but this is only an excuse, and a very impudent one. the business of science is to serve people. we have invented telegraphs, telephones, phonographs, but what improvements have we made in the life of the people? we have catalogued two millions of insects! but have we domesticated a single animal since biblical times, when all our animals had long been domesticated, and still the elk and the deer, and the partridge and the grouse and the wood-hen, are wild? botanists have discovered the cells, and in the cells protoplasms and in protoplasms something else, and in this something else again. these occupations will go on for a long time and evidently never end, and therefore learned men have no time to do anything useful. hence from the times of the ancient egyptians and hebrews, when wheat and lentils were already cultivated, down to the present time, not a single plant has been added for the nourishment of the people except potatoes, and these were not discovered by science. we have invented torpedoes and house-drains; but the spinning-wheel, weaving-looms, ploughs and axe-handles, flails and rakes, buckets and well-sweeps, are still the same as in the time of rurik. if some things have been improved, it is not the learned who have improved them, but the unlearned. the same is the case with art. many people are acclaimed as great writers. we have carefully analyzed their works, have written mountains of critiques and criticisms upon criticisms, and still more criticisms on criticisms; we have collected pictures in galleries, and thoroughly studied in detail different schools of art; and we possess symphonies and operas that it is with great difficulty we ourselves can listen to; but what have we added to the folk-lore, legends, tales, songs for the people? what pictures, what music, have we created for the people? books and pictures are published, and harmoniums are made for the people, but we did not participate in either. what is most striking and obvious is the false tendency of our science and art, which manifests itself in those departments which, according to their own propositions, would seem to be useful to people, but which, owing to this tendency, appear rather pernicious than useful. an engineer, a surgeon, a teacher, an artist, an author, seem by their very professions to be obliged to serve the people, but what do we see? with the present tendency, they can bring to the people nothing but harm. an engineer and a mechanic must work with capital: without capital they are good for nothing. all their training is of such a nature that, in order to make use of it, they need capital and the employment of work-people on a large scale, to say nothing of the fact that they themselves are accustomed to spend from fifteen hundred to a thousand rubles a year on themselves, and therefore cannot go to live in a village, since no one there can give them any such remuneration: from their very occupations they are not fit for the service of the people. they understand how to calculate the arch of a bridge by means of the higher mathematics, how to calculate power and the transfer of power in an engine, and so on: but they are at a loss to meet the plain requirements of common labour; they do not know how to improve the plough or the cart; or how to make a brook passable, taking into consideration the conditions of a workman's life. they know and understand nothing of all this, less even than the poorest peasant does. give them workshops, and plenty of people, order engines from abroad, and then they will arrange these matters. but to find out how to ease the labour of the millions of the people in their present conditions, they do not know, and cannot do it; and therefore, by their knowledge and habits and wants, they are not at all fit for this business. a surgeon is in a still worse condition. his imaginary science is of such a nature that he understands how to cure those only who have nothing to do and who can utilize other men's labour. he requires a countless number of expensive accessories, instruments, medicines, sanitary dwellings, food, and drains, in order that he may act scientifically: besides his fee he demands such expenses that, in order to cure one patient, he must kill with starvation hundreds of those who bear this expense. he has studied under eminent persons in the capital cities, who attended only to those patients whom they may take into hospitals, or who can afford to buy all the necessary medicines and machines, and even go at once from north to south, to these or those mineral waters, as the case may be. their science is of such a kind that every country surgeon complains that there is no possibility of attending to the work-people who are so poor that they cannot afford sanitary accommodations, and that there are no hospitals, and that he cannot attend to the business alone, that he requires help and assistant-surgeons. what does this really mean? it means this,--that the want of the necessaries of life is the chief cause of people's misfortunes, and the source of diseases as well as of their spreading and incurability. now science, under the banner of "the division of labour," calls its champions to help the people. science has settled satisfactorily about the rich classes, and seeks how to cure those who can get everything necessary for the purpose; and it sends persons to cure in the same way those who have nothing to spare. but there are no means; and therefore they must be raised from the people, who become ill and catch diseases, and cannot be cured for want of means. the advocates of the healing art for the people say, that, up to the present time, this business has not been sufficiently developed. evidently it is not yet developed, because if (which god forbid!) it were developed among our people, and, instead of two doctors and mid-wives and two assistant-surgeons in the district, there should be twenty sent, as they want, then there would soon be no one left to attend to. the scientific co-operation for the benefit of the people must be of quite a different kind. and this, which ought to exist, has not yet begun. it will begin when a man of science, an engineer, or a surgeon, ceases to consider lawful that division of labour, or rather that taking away other men's labour, which now exists, and when he no longer considers that he has the right to take,--i do not say hundreds of thousands,--but even a moderate sum of one thousand or five hundred rubles as compensation for his services; but when such a man comes to live among labouring-people in the same condition and in the same way as they, and applies his information in mechanics, technics or hygiene, to cure them. but at present, scientific men, who are fed at the expense of the workman, have quite forgotten the conditions of the life of these men: they ignore (as they say) these conditions, and are quite seriously offended that their imaginary knowledge does not find application among the people. the departments of the healing art as well as of the mechanical have not yet been touched: the questions how best to divide the period of labour, how and upon what it is best to feed, how best to dress, how to counteract dampness and cold, how best to wash, to suckle, and swaddle children, and so on, and all these applied to the conditions in which the workers now exist,--all these questions have not yet been faced. the same applies to the activity of scientific teachers,--the pedagogues. science has arranged this business, too, in such a way, that teaching according to science is possible only for those who are rich; and the teachers, like the engineers and surgeons, are involuntarily drawn towards money, and among us in russia especially towards the government. and this cannot be otherwise, because a school properly arranged (and the general rule is that the more scientifically a school is arranged the more expensive it is), with convertible benches, globes, maps, libraries, and manuals for teachers and pupils, is just such a school to maintain which it is necessary to double the taxes of the people. so science wants to have it. the children are necessary for work, and the more so with the poorer people. the advocates of science say, "pedagogy is even now of use for the people; but let it develop, then it will be still better." but if it will develop till instead of schools in a district there will be --all of them scientific,--and the parents forced to keep up these schools? then they will be still poorer, and will want the labour of their children still more urgently. what is to be done then? to this they will reply, "the government will establish schools, and will make education obligatory as it is in the rest of europe." but the money will still have to be raised from the people, and labour will be still harder for them, and they will have less time to spare from their labour, and there will then be no obligatory education at all. there is, again, only one escape,--for a teacher to live in the conditions of a workman, and to teach for that compensation which will be freely offered him. such is the false tendency of science which deprives it of the possibility to fulfil its duty in serving the people. but this false tendency of our educated class is still more obvious in art-activity, which, for the sake of its very meaning ought to be accessible to the people. science may point to its stupid excuse that "science is acting for science," and that, when fully developed it will become accessible to the people; but art, if it is art indeed, ought to be accessible to all, especially to those for whose sake it is created. but our art strikingly denounces its factors in that they do not wish, and do not understand, and are not able to be of use to the people. a painter, in order to produce his great works, must have a large studio, in which at least forty joiners or boot-makers might work, who are now freezing or suffocating in wretched lodgings. but this is not all: he requires models, costumes, journeys from place to place. the academy of art has spent millions of rubles, collected from the people, for the encouragement of art; and the productions of this art are hung in palaces, and are neither intelligible to the people nor wanted by them. musicians, in order to express their great ideas, must gather about two hundred men with white neckties or in special costumes, and spend hundreds of thousands of rubles arranging operas. but this art-production would never appear to the people (even if they could afford to use it) as anything but perplexing or dull. the authors, writers, would seem not to need any particular accommodations, studios, models, orchestras, or actors; but here also it turns out that an author, a writer, in order to prepare his great works, wants travelling, palaces, cabinets, enjoyments of art, theatres, concerts, mineral waters, and so on; to say nothing of all the comforts of his dwelling and all the comforts of his life. if he himself has not saved up enough money for this purpose he is given a pension in order that he may compose better. and, again, these writings, which we value so highly, remain for the people, rubbish, and are not at all necessary to them. what if, according to the wish of men of science and art, such producers of mental food should so multiply, that, in every village it would be necessary to build a studio, provide an orchestra, and keep an author in the conditions which men of art consider indispensable to them? i dare say working-people would make a vow never to look at a picture, or listen to a symphony, or read poetry and novels, in order only not to be compelled to feed all these good-for-nothing parasites. and why should not men of art serve the people? in every cottage there are holy images and pictures; each peasant, each woman of the people, sings; many have instruments of music; and all can relate stories, repeat poetry; and many of them read. how came it to pass that these two things, which were as much made for one another as a key for a lock, were separated, and why are they so separated that we cannot imagine how to re-unite them? tell a painter to paint without a studio, models, costumes, and to draw penny pictures, and he will say that this would be a denial of art as he understands it. tell a musician to play on a harmonium and to teach country-women to sing songs; tell a poet to throw aside writing poems and novels and satires, and to compose song-books for the people, and stories and tales which might be intelligible to illiterate persons,--they will say you are cracked. but is it not being worse than cracked when the men who have freed themselves from labour because they promised to provide mental food for those who have brought them up, and are feeding and clothing them, have afterwards so forgotten their promise that they have ceased to understand how to make food fit for the people? yet this very forsaking of their promises they consider dignifies them. such is the case everywhere, they say. then everywhere the case is very unreasonable. and it will be so while men, under the pretext of division of labour, promise to provide mental food for the people, but only swallow up the labour of the people. men will serve the people with science and art only when living among them and in the same way as the people do, putting forth no claims whatever, they offer to the people their scientific and artistic services, leaving it to the free will of the people to accept or refuse them. chapter xxxv to say that the activities of the arts and sciences have co-operated in forwarding the progress of mankind, and by these activities to mean that which is now called by this name, is as to say that an awkward moving of the oars, hindering the progress of a boat going down the stream, is forwarding the progress of the boat; while it only hinders it. the so-called division of labour--that is, the violation of other men's labour which has become in our time a condition of the activity of men of art and science--has been, and still remains, the chief cause of the slowness of the progress of mankind. the proof of it we have in the acknowledgement that the acquisitions of art and science are not accessible to the working-classes because of a wrong distribution of wealth. and the incorrectness of this distribution does not diminish in proportion to the progress of art and science, but rather increases. nor is it astonishing that such is the case; because the incorrect distribution of wealth proceeds solely from the theory of the division of labour, preached by men of art and science for selfish purposes. science, defending the division of labour as an unchangeable law, sees that the distribution of wealth based upon this division is incorrect and pernicious, and asserts that its activity, which recognizes the division of labour, will set all right again, and lead men to happiness. it appears, then, that some men utilize the labour of others; but if they will only continue to do this for a long time, and on a still larger scale, then this incorrect distribution of wealth, that is, utilizing of other men's labour, will vanish. men are standing by an ever-increasing spring of water, and are busy turning it aside from thirsty men, and then they assert that it is they who produce this water, and that soon there will be so much of it that everybody will have enough and to spare. and this water, which has been running unceasingly, and nourishing all mankind, is not only not the result of the activity of those who, standing at its source, turn it aside, but it runs and spreads itself in spite of the endeavours to stop it from doing so. there has always existed a true church,--in other words, men united by the highest truth accessible to them at a certain epoch,--but it has never been that church which gave herself out for such; and there have always been real art and science, but they were not those which call themselves now by these names. men who consider themselves to be the representatives of art and science in a given period of time, always imagine that they have been doing, are doing, and the important fact is that they are on the point of making wonderful things, and that beyond them there has never been any art or science. thus it seemed to the sophists, to the scholiasts, alchemists, cabalists, talmudists, and to our own scientific science and to our artistic art. chapter xxxvi "but science! art! you repudiate science, art; that is, you repudiate that by which mankind live." i am always hearing this: people choose this way to put aside my arguments altogether without analyzing them. "he repudiates science and art; he wishes to turn men back again to the savage state; why, then, should we listen to him, or argue with him?" but this is unjust. not only do i not repudiate science--human reasonable activity--and art,--the expression of this reasonable activity,--but it is actually in the name of this reasonable activity and its expression that i speak what i do, in order that mankind may avoid the savage state towards which they are rapidly moving, owing to the false teaching of our time. science and art are as necessary to men as food, drink, and clothes,--even still more necessary than these; but they become such, not because we decide that what we call science and art are necessary, but because they are truly necessary to men. now, if i should prepare hay for the bodily food of men, my idea that hay is food would not make it to be so. i cannot say, why do you not eat hay when it is your necessary food? food is, indeed, necessary, but perhaps what i offer is not food at all. this very thing has happened with our science and art. and to us it seems that when we add to a greek word the termination _logy_, and call this science, it will be science indeed; and if we call an indecency, like the painting of naked women, by the greek word "choreography," and term it art, it will be art indeed. but however much we may say this, the business which we are about, in counting up the insects, and chemically analyzing the contents of the milky way, in painting water-nymphs and historical pictures, in writing novels, and in composing symphonies, this, our business, will not become science or art until it is willingly accepted by those for whom it is being done. till now it has not been accepted. if some men only were allowed to prepare food, and all others were either forbidden to do it, or be rendered incapable of producing it, i daresay that the quality of the food would deteriorate. if the men who had the exclusive privilege of producing food were russian peasants, then there would be no other food than black bread, kvas, potatoes, and onions, which they are fond of, and which is agreeable to them. the same would be the case with that highest human activity in art and science if their exclusive privilege were appropriated by one caste, with this difference only, that in bodily food there cannot be too great digressions from the natural;--bread as well as onions, though unsavoury food, is still eatable:--but in mental food there may be great digressions; and some men may for a very long time feed upon an unnecessary, or even hurtful and poisonous, mental food; they themselves may slowly kill themselves with opium or with spirits, and this sort of food they may offer to the masses of the people. this very thing has happened to us. and it has happened because men of art and science are in privileged conditions; because art and science in our world are not that mental activity of all mankind, without any exception, who separate their best powers for the service of art and science: but it is the activity of a small company of men having the monopoly of these occupations, and calling themselves scientists and artists; and therefore they have perverted the very conceptions of art and science, and lost the sense of their own calling, and are merely occupied in amusing a small company of parasites and saving them from burdensome dulness. since men have existed, they have always had science in the plainest and largest sense of the word. science, as the sum of all human information, has always been in existence; and without it life is not conceivable, and there is no necessity whatever either to attack or to defend it. but the fact is this, that the reason of this knowledge is so various, so much information of all kinds enters into it, from information how to obtain iron up to the knowledge about movements of the celestial bodies, that man would be lost among all this varied information if he had no clew to help him to decide which of all these kinds of information is more important, and which less. therefore, the highest wisdom of men has always consisted in finding out the clew whereby to arrange the information of men, and to decide what kinds of information are more, and what are less, important. this which has directed all other knowledge, men have always called science in the strictest sense of the word. such science has always been, up to the present time, in human societies which have left the savage state behind them. since mankind has existed teachers have appeared in every nation to form science in this strict sense,--the science about what it is most necessary for men to know. the object of this science has always been the inquiry as to what was the destiny, and therefore the true welfare, of each man and of all men. this science has served as a clew to determine the importance and the expression of all other sciences. such information and art as co-operated with the science of man's destiny and welfare were considered highest in public opinion. such was the science of confucius, buddha, moses, socrates, christ, mohammed,--science such as it has been understood by all men save our own circle of so-called educated people. such a science has not only always occupied the first place, but it is the one science which has determined the importance of other sciences. and this, not at all because so-called learned men of our time imagine that it is only deceitful priests and teachers of this science who have given it such an importance, but because, as, indeed, everyone can learn by his own inward experience, without the science of man's destiny and welfare, there cannot be any determining of other values, or any choice of art and science for man. and, therefore, there cannot be any study of science, for there are _innumerable_ quantities of subjects to which science may be applied. i italicize the word innumerable, as i use it in its exact value. without knowledge as to what constitutes the calling and welfare of all men, all other arts and sciences become, as is really the case with us at present, only an idle and pernicious amusement. mankind have been living long, and they have never been living without a science relative to the calling and welfare of men: it is true that the science of the welfare of men to a superficial observation appears to be different with buddists, brahmins, hebrews, christians, with the followers of confucius and those of laotse, though one need only reflect on these teachings in order to see their essential unity; where men have left the savage state behind them, we find this science; and now of a sudden it turns out that modern men have decided that this very science which has been till now the guide of all human information, is the obstacle in the way of everything. men build houses; one architect makes one estimate, another makes a second, and so on. the estimates are a little different, but they are separately correct; and every one sees that, if each estimate is fulfilled, the house will be erected. such architects are confucius, buddha, moses, christ. and now certain men come and assure us that the chief thing to come by is the absence of any estimate, and that men ought to build anyhow according to eyesight. and this "anyhow" these men call the most exact science, as the pope terms himself the "most holy." men deny every science, the most essential science of men's calling and welfare; and this denial of science they call science. since men have existed, great intellects have always appeared, which, in the struggle with the demands of their reason and conscience, have put to themselves questions concerning the calling and welfare, not only of themselves individually, but of every man. what does that power, which created me, require from me and from each man? and what am i to do in order to satisfy the craving ingrafted in me for a personal and a common welfare? they have asked themselves, i am a whole and a part of something unfathomable, infinite: what are to be my relations to other parts similar to me,--to men and to the whole? and from the voice of conscience and from reason, and from consideration on what men have said who lived before, and from contemporaries who have asked themselves the same questions, these great teachers have deduced teachings,--plain, clear, intelligible to all men, and always such as can be put into practice. such men were of the first, second, third, and all magnitudes. the world is full of such men. all living men put to themselves the question, how am i to reconcile my own demands for personal life with conscience and reason, which demand the common good of all men? and out of this common travail new forms of life are evolved slowly, but unceasingly, satisfying more and more the demands of reason and conscience. and of a sudden a new caste of men appears, who say, all these are nonsense, and are to be left behind. this is the deductive way of thinking (though wherein lies the difference between the inductive and the deductive way of thinking, nobody ever has been able to understand), and this is also the method of the theological and metaphysical periods. all that men have understood by inward experience, and have related to each other concerning the consciousness of the law of their own life (functional activity, in their cant phrase); all that from the beginning of the world has been done in this direction by the greatest intellects of mankind,--all these are trifles, having no weight whatever. according to this new teaching, you are the cell of an organism, and the problem of your reasonable activity consists in trying to ascertain your functional activity. in order to ascertain this, you must make observations outside yourself. the fact that you are a cell which thinks, suffers, speaks, and understands, and that for that very reason you can inquire of another similar speaking, suffering cell whether he or she suffers and rejoices in the same way as yourself, and that thus you may verify your own experience; and the fact that you may make use of what the speaking cells, who lived and suffered before you wrote on the subject; and your knowledge that millions of cells agreeing with what the past cells have written, confirm your own experience, that you yourself are a living cell, who always, by a direct inward experience, apprehend the correctness or incorrectness of your own functional activity,--all this means nothing, we are told: it is all a false and evil method. the true scientific method is this: if you wish to learn in what your functional activity consists, what is your destiny and welfare, and what the destiny of mankind, and of the whole world, then first you must cease to listen to the voice and demands of your conscience and of your reason, which manifest themselves inwardly to you and to your fellow-men; you must leave off believing all that the great teachers of humanity have said about their own conscience and reason, and you must consider all this to be nonsense, and begin at the beginning. and in order to begin from the beginning, you have to observe through a microscope the movements of amoebæ and the cells of tape-worms; or, still easier, you must believe everything that people with the diploma of infallibility may tell you about them. and observing the movements of these amoebæ and cells, or reading what others have seen, you must ascribe to these cells your own human feelings and calculations as to what they desire, what are their tendencies, their reflections and calculations, their habits; and from these _observations_ (in which each word contains some mistake of thought or of expression), according to analogy, you must deduce what is your own destiny, and what that of other cells similar to you. in order to be able to understand yourself, you must study not merely the tape-worm which you see, but also microscopic animalcules which you cannot see, and the transformation from one set of things into another, which neither you nor anybody else has ever seen, and which you certainly will never see. the same holds good with art. wherever a true science has existed, it has been expressed by art. since men have existed they have always separated out of all their activities, from their varied information, the chief expression of science, the knowledge of man's destination and welfare; and art, in the strict sense of the word, has been the expression of this. since men have existed, there have always been persons particularly sensitive to the teaching of man's welfare and destiny, who have expressed in word, and upon psaltery and cymbals, their human struggle with deceit which led them aside from their true destiny, and their sufferings in this struggle, their hopes about the victory of good, their despair about the triumph of evil, and their raptures in expectation of coming welfare. since men have existed, the true art, that which has been valued most highly by men, had no other destiny than to be the expression of science on man's destiny and welfare. always down to the present time art has served the teaching of life (afterwards called religion), and it has only been this art which men have valued so highly. but contemporaneously with the fact that in place of the science of man's destiny and welfare appears the science of universal knowledge,--since science lost its own sense and meaning, and true science has been scornfully called religion,--true art, as an important activity of men, has disappeared. as long as the church existed, and taught men's calling and welfare, art served the church, and was true; but from the moment it left the church, and began to serve a science which served everything it met, art lost its meaning, and, notwithstanding its old-fashioned claims, and a stupid assertion that art serves merely art itself, and nothing else, it has turned out to be a trade which procures luxuries for men, and unavoidably mixes itself with choreography, culinary art, hair-dressing, and cosmetics, the producers of which may call themselves artists with as much right as the poets, painters, and musicians of our day. looking back, we see that during thousands of years, from among thousands of millions of men who have lived, there came forth a few like confucius, buddha, solon, socrates, solomon, homer, isaiah, david. true artist-producers of spiritual food seem to appear seldom among men, notwithstanding the fact that they appear, not from one caste only, but from among all men; and it is not without cause that mankind have always so highly valued them. and now it turns out that we have no longer any need of all these former great factors of art and science. now, according to the law of the division of labour, it is possible to manufacture scientific and artistic factors almost mechanically; and in the space of ten years we shall manufacture more great men of art and science than have been born among all men from the beginning of the world. nowadays there is a trade corporation of learned men and artists, and by an improved way they prepare all the mental food which is wanted by mankind. and they have prepared so much of it, that there need no longer be any remembrance of the old producers, not only of the very ancient, but also of the more recent,--all their activity, we are told, was the activity of the theological and metaphysical period: all had to be destroyed, and the true, mental activity began some fifty years ago. and in these fifty years we have manufactured so many great men that in a german university there are more of them than have been in the whole world, and of sciences we have manufactured a great number too; for one need only put to a greek word the termination _logy_, and arrange the subject according to ready-made paragraphs, and the science is created: we have thus manufactured so many sciences that not only cannot one man know them all, but he cannot even remember all their names,--these names alone would fill a large dictionary; and every day new sciences come into existence. in this respect we are like that finnish teacher who taught the children of a land-owner the finnish language instead of the french. he taught very well; but there was one drawback,--that nobody, except himself, understood it. we have learned everything very well, but the pity of it is that nobody but ourselves understands it, and that everybody else considers it good-for-nothing nonsense. but to this also there is an explanation: men do not understand all the utility of the scientific science because they are still under the influence of the theological period of knowledge, that stupid period when all the people of the hebrew race, as well as the chinese and indians and greeks, understood everything spoken to them by their great teachers. but whatever may be the cause, the fact is this,--that art and science have always existed among mankind; and when they really existed, then they were necessary and intelligible to all men. we are busy about something which we call art and science, and it turns out that what we are busy about is neither necessary nor intelligible to men. so that we have no right to give the name of art or science to our doings. chapter xxxvii but it is said to me, "you only give another narrower definition of art and science, which science does not agree with; but even this does not exclude them, and notwithstanding all you say, there still remains the scientific and art activities of men like galileo, bruno, homer, michael angelo, beethoven, wagner, and other learned men and artists of lesser magnitude who have devoted all their lives to art and science." usually this is said in the endeavour to establish a link, which in other cases they disown, to connect the activity of the former learned men and artists with the modern ones, trying to forget that new principle of the division of labour by reason of which art and science now occupy a privileged position. first of all, it is not possible to establish any such connection between the former factors and the modern ones, even as the holy life of the first christian has nothing in common with the lives of popes: thus, the activity of men like galileo, shakespeare, beethoven, has nothing in common with the activities of men like tyndal, hugo, and wagner. as the holy fathers would have denied any connection with the popes, so the ancient factors of science would have denied any relationship with the modern ones. secondly, owing to that importance which art and science ascribe to themselves, they have established a very clear standard by means of which we are able to determine whether they do, or do not, fulfil their destiny; and we therefore decide, not without proofs, but according to their own standard, whether that activity which calls itself art and science has, or has not, any right thus to call itself. though the egyptians or greek priests performed mysteries known to none but themselves, and said that these mysteries included all art and science, i could not, on the ground of the asserted utility of these to the people, ascertain the reality of their science, because this said science, according to their _ipse dixit_, was a supernatural one: but now we all have a very clear and plain standard, excluding everything supernatural; art and science promise to fulfil the mental activity of mankind, for the welfare of society, or even of the whole of mankind. therefore we have a right to call only such activity, art and science, which has this aim in view, and attains it. and therefore, however those learned men and artists may call themselves, who excogitate the theory of penal laws, of state laws, and of the laws of nations, who invent new guns and explosive substances, who compose obscene operas and operettas, or similarly obscene novels, we have no right to call such activity the activity of art and science, because this activity has not in view the welfare of the society or of mankind, but on the contrary is directed to the harm of men. in like manner, however these learned men may call themselves, who in their simplicity are occupied during all their lives with the investigations of the microscopical animalcule and of telescopical and spectral phenomena; or those artists who, after having carefully investigated the monuments of old times, are busy writing historical novels, making pictures, concocting symphonies and beautiful verses, all these men, notwithstanding all their zeal, cannot, according to the definition of their own science, be called men of science or art, first because their activity in science for the sake of science, and of art for art, has not in view man's welfare; and secondly, because we do not see any results of these activities for the welfare of society or mankind. the fact that sometimes something useful or agreeable for some men comes of their activities, by no means gives us any right, according to their own scientific definition, to consider them to be men of art and science. in like manner, however those men may call themselves who excogitate the application of electricity to lighting, heating, and motion; or who invent some new chemical combinations, producing dynamite or fine colours; men who correctly play beethoven's symphonies; who act on the stage, or paint portraits well, domestic pictures, landscapes, and other pictures; who compose interesting novels, the object of which is merely to amuse rich people,--the activity of these men cannot be called art and science, because this activity is not directed, like the activity of the brain in the organism, to the welfare of the whole, but is guided merely by personal gain, privileges, money, which one obtains for the inventing and producing of so-called art. therefore this activity cannot possibly be separated from other covetous, personal activity, which adds agreeable things to life, as the activity of innkeepers, jockeys, milliners, prostitutes, and so on, because the activity of the first, the second, and the last, do not come under the definition of art and science, on the ground of the division of labour, which promises to serve for the welfare of all mankind. the scientific definition of art and science is a correct one; but unluckily, the activity of modern art and science does not come under it. some produce directly hurtful things, others useless things; and a third party invents trifles fit only for the use of rich people. they may all be very good persons, but they do not fulfil what they have taken upon themselves to fulfil, according to their own definition; and therefore they have as little right to call themselves men of art and science as the modern clergy, who do not fulfil their duties, have right to consider themselves the bearers and teachers of divine truth. it is not difficult to understand why the factors of modern art and science have not fulfilled their calling, and cannot fulfil it. they do not fulfil it, because they have converted their duty into a right. the scientific and art activities, in their true sense, are fruitful only when they ignore their rights, and know only their duties. mankind value this activity so highly, only because it is a self-denying one. if men are really called to serve others by _mental_ labour, they will have to suffer in performing this labour, because it is only by suffering that spiritual fruit is produced. selfdenying and suffering are the lot and portion of a thinker and an artist, because their object is the welfare of men. men are wretched: they suffer and go to ruin. one cannot wait and lose one's time. a thinker and an artist will never sit on the heights of olympus, as we are apt to imagine: he must suffer in company with men in order to find salvation or consolation. he will suffer because he is constantly in anxiety and agitation; he might have found out and told what would give happiness to men, might have saved them from suffering; and he has neither found it out nor said it, and to-morrow it may be too late--he may die. and therefore suffering and self-sacrifice will always be the lot of the thinker and the artist. he who is brought up in an establishment where learned men and artists are created (but, in reality, they create only destroyers of art and science), and who obtains a diploma, and is well provided for, for life, will not become a thinker or an artist, but he who would gladly abstain from thinking, and from expressing that which is ingrafted in his soul, but which he dare not overlook, being drawn to it by two irresistible powers,--his own inward impulse and the wants of men. thinkers and artists cannot be sleek, fat men, enjoying themselves in self-conceit. spiritual and mental activity and their expressions are really necessary for others, and are the most difficult of men's callings,--a cross, as it is called in the gospel. the only one certain characteristic of the presence of a calling is this self-denying,--the sacrifice of one's self in order to manifest the power ingrafted in man for the benefit of others. to teach how many insects there are in the world, and to observe the spots on the sun, to write novels and operas, can be done without suffering; but to teach men their welfare, which entirely consists in self denial and in serving others, and to express this teaching powerfully, cannot be done without self-denial. the church existed in her purity as long as her teachers endured patiently and suffered; but as soon as they became fat and sleek, their teaching activity ended. "formerly," say the people, "priests were of gold, and chalices of wood; now chalices are of gold, and priests of wood." it was not in vain that jesus christ died on a cross: it is not in vain that sacrifice and suffering conquer every thing. as for our art and sciences, they are provided for: they have diplomas, and everybody only thinks about how to provide still better for them; that is, to make it impossible for them to serve men. a true art and a true science have two unmistakable characteristics,--the first, an interior one, that a minister of art or science fulfils his calling, not for the sake of gain, but with self-denial; and the second, an exterior one, that his productions are intelligible to all men, whose welfare he is aiming at. whatever men may consider to be their destiny and welfare, science will be the teacher of this destiny and welfare, and art the expression of this teaching. the laws of solon, of confucius, are science; the teachings of moses, of christ, are science; the temples in athens, the psalms of david, church worship, are art: but finding out the fourth dimension of matter, and tabulating chemical combinations, and so on, have never been, and never will be, science. the place of true science is occupied, in our time, by theology and law; the place of true art is occupied by the church and state ceremonies, in which nobody believes, and which are not considered seriously by anybody; while that which with us is called art and science, is only the production of idle minds and feelings desirous to stimulate similarly idle minds and feelings, and unintelligible and dumb for the people, because they have not their welfare in view. since we have known the lives of men, we have always and everywhere found a ruling false doctrine, calling itself science, which does not show men the true meaning of life, but rather hides it from them. so it was among the egyptians, the indians, the chinese, and partially among the greeks (sophists); and among the mystics, gnostics, and cabalists; in the middle ages, in theology, scholasticism, alchemy; and so on down to our days. how fortunate indeed we are to be living in such a peculiar time, when that mental activity which calls itself science is not only free from errors, but, we are assured, is in a state of peculiar progress! does not this good fortune come from the fact that man can not and will not see his own deformities? while of the sciences of theologians, and that of cabalists, nothing is left but empty words, why should we be so particularly fortunate? the characteristics of our times and of former times are quite similar; there is the same self-conceit and blind assurance that we only are on the true way, and that only with us true knowledge begins; there are the same expectations that we shall presently discover something very wonderful; and there is the same exposure of our error, in the fact that all our wisdom remains with us, while the masses of the people do not understand it, and neither accept nor need it. our position is a very difficult one, but why should we not look it in the face? it is time to come to our senses, and to look more closely to ourselves. we are, indeed, nothing but scribes and pharisees, who, sitting in moses' seat, and having the key of the kingdom of god, do not enter themselves, and refuse entrance to others. we, priests of art and science, are most wretched deceivers, who have much less right to our position than the most cunning and depraved priests ever had. for our privileged position, there is no excuse whatever: we have taken up this position by a kind of swindling, and we retain it by deceit. pagan priests, the clergy, russian as well as roman catholic, however depraved they may have been, had rights to their position, because they professed to teach men about life and salvation. and we, who have cut the ground from under their feet, and proved to men that they were deceivers, we have taken their place, and not only do not teach men about life, we even acknowledge that there is no necessity for them to learn. we suck the blood of the people, and for this we teach our children greek and latin grammars so that they also may continue the same parasitic life which we are living. we say, there have been castes, we will abolish them. but what means the fact that some men and their children work, and other men and their children do not work? bring a hindu who does not know our language, and show him the russian and the european lives of many generations, and he will recognize the existence of two important definite castes of working-people and of non-working people as they are in existence in his own country. as in his country, so also among us, the right of not working is acquired through a peculiar initiation which we call art and science, and education generally. it is this education, and the perversions of reason associated with it, that have brought to us this wonderful folly, whence it has come to pass that we do not see what is so plain and certain. we are eating up the lives of our brethren, and consider ourselves to be christians, humane, educated, and quite in the right. chapter xxxviii what is to be done? what must we do? this question, which includes acknowledgment of the fact that our life is bad and unrighteous, and at the same time hints that there is no possibility of changing it,--this question i hear everywhere, and therefore i chose it for the title of my work. i have described my own sufferings, my search, and the answer which i have found to this question. i am a man like others; and if i distinguish myself from an average man of my own circle in any thing, it is chiefly in the fact that i, more than this average man, have served and indulged the false teaching of our world, that i have been more praised by the men of the prevalent school of teaching, and that therefore i am more depraved, and have gone farther astray, than most of my fellows. therefore i think that the answer to this question which i have found for myself will do for all sincere persons who will put the same question to themselves. first of all, to the question, "what is to be done?" i answer that i must neither deceive other men nor myself; that i must not be afraid of the truth, whatever the result may be. we all know what it is to deceive other men; and notwithstanding this, we do deceive from morning to evening,--"not at home," when i am in; "very glad," when i am not at all glad; "esteemed," when i do not esteem; "i have no money," when i have it, and so on. we consider the deception of others to be evil, particularly a certain kind of deception, but we are not afraid to deceive ourselves: yet the worst direct lie to men, seeing its result, is nothing in comparison with that lie to ourselves according to which we shape our lives. now, this very lie we must avoid if we wish to be able to answer the question, "_what is to be done?_" indeed, how am i to answer the question as to what is to be done, when every thing i do, all my life, is based upon a lie and i carefully give out this lie to others and to myself as truth? not to lie in this sense means to be not afraid of truth; not to invent excuses, and not to accept excuses invented by others, in order to hide from one's self the deductions of reason and conscience; not to be afraid of contradicting all our surroundings, and of being left alone with reason and conscience; not to be afraid of that condition to which truth and conscience lead us: however dreadful it may be, it cannot be worse than that which is based upon deceit. to avoid lying, for men in our privileged position of mental labour, means not to be afraid of truth. perhaps we owe so much that we should never be able to pay it all; but however much we may owe, we must make out our bill: however far we have gone astray, it is better to return than to continue straying. lying to our fellows is always disadvantageous. every business is always more directly done by truth than by lies, and more quickly too. lying to other men makes matters only more complicated, and retards the decision; but lying to one's self, which is given out to be the truth, entirely ruins the life of man. if a man considers a wrong road to be a right one, then his every step leads him only farther from his aim: a man who has been walking for a long time on a wrong road may find out for himself, or be told by others, that his road is a wrong one; but if he, being afraid of the thought how far he has gone astray, tries to assure himself that he may, by following this wrong course, still come across the right one, then he will certainly never find it. if a man becomes afraid of the truth, and, on seeing it, will not acknowledge it, but accepts falsehood for truth, then this man will never learn what is to be done. we, not only rich men, but men in privileged position, so-called educated men, have gone so far astray that we require either a firm resolution or very great sufferings on our false way to bring us to our senses again, and to recognize the lie by which we live. i became aware of the lie of our life, thanks to those sufferings to which my wrong road led me; and, having acknowledged the error of the way on which i was bent, i had the boldness to go, first in theory, then in reality, wherever my reason and conscience led me, without any deliberation as to whither they were tending. i was rewarded for this boldness. all the complex, disjointed, intricate, and meaningless phenomena of life surrounding me became of a sudden clear; and my position among these phenomena, formerly so strange and vile, became of a sudden natural and easy. in this new position my activity has exactly determined itself, but it is quite a different activity from that which appeared possible to me before: it is a new activity, far more quiet, affectionate, and joyous. the very thing which frightened me before, now attracts me. therefore, i think that every one who sincerely puts to himself the question, "what is to be done?" and in answering this question, does not lie or deceive himself, but goes wherever his reason _and conscience_ may lead him, that man has already answered the question. if he will only avoid deceiving himself, he will find out what to do, where to go, and how to act. there is only one thing which may hinder him in finding an answer,--that is too high an estimate of himself, and of his own position. so it was with me; and therefore the second answer to the question, "what is to be done?" resulting from the first, consisted for me in repenting, in the full meaning of this word: that is, entirely changing the estimate of my own position and activity. instead of considering such to be useful and of importance, we must come to acknowledge it to be harmful and trifling; instead of considering ourselves educated, we must come to see our ignorance; instead of imagining ourselves to be kind and moral, we must acknowledge that we are immoral and cruel; instead of seeing our importance, we must see our own insignificance. i say, that besides avoiding lying to myself, i had moreover to _repent_, because, though the one results from the other, the wrong idea about my great importance was so much a part of my own nature, that until i had sincerely repented, and had put aside that wrong estimate of myself, i did not see the enormity of the lie of which i had been guilty. it was only when i repented,--that is, left off considering myself to be a peculiar man, and began to consider myself to be like _all_ other men,--it was then that my way became clear to me. before this i was not able to answer the question, "what is to be done?" because the very question itself was put incorrectly. before i repented, i had put the question thus: "what activity should i choose, i, the man with the education and talents i have acquired? how can i compensate by this education and these talents for what i have been taking away from the people?" this question was a false one, because it included the wrong idea of my not being like other men, but a peculiar man, called to serve other men with those talents and that education which i had acquired in forty years. i had put the question to myself, but in reality i had already answered it in advance by having determined beforehand that i was called upon to serve men by the kind of activity agreeable to myself. i really asked myself, "how can i, so fine a writer, one so very well informed, and with such talents, how can i utilize those talents for the benefit of mankind?" but the question ought to have been put thus,--as it would have to be put to a learned rabbi who had studied all the talmud, and knew the exact number of letters in the holy scripture, and all the subtleties of his science:--"what can i do, who, from unlucky circumstances, have lost my best years in study instead of accommodating myself to labour,--in learning the french language, the piano, grammar, geography, law, poetry; in reading novels, romances, philosophical theories, and in performing military exercises? what can i do, who have passed the best years of my life in idle occupations, depraving the soul? what can i do, notwithstanding these unlucky conditions of the past, in order to requite those men, who, during all this time, have fed and clothed me, and who still continue to feed and to clothe me?" if the question had been put thus, after i had repented, "what can i, so ruined a man, do?" the answer would have been easy: first of all, i must try to get my living honestly,--that is, learn not to live upon the shoulders of others; and while learning this, and after i have learned it, to try on every occasion to be of use to men with my hands and with my feet, as well as with my brain and my heart, and with all of me that is wanted by men. therefore i say that for one of my own circle, besides avoiding lying to others and ourselves, it is further necessary to repent, to lay aside pride about our education, refinement, and talents, not considering ourselves to be benefactors of the people, advanced men, who are ready to share our useful acquirements with the people, but acknowledging ourselves to be entirely guilty, ruined, good-for-nothing men, who desire to turn over a new leaf, and not to be benefactors of the people, but to cease to offend and to humiliate them. very often good young people, who sympathise with the negative part of my writings, put to me the question, "what must i do then? what have i, who have finished my study in the university or in some other high establishment,--what have i to do in order to be useful?" these young people ask the question; but in the depths of their souls they have already decided that the education which they have received is their great advantage, and that they wish to serve the people by this very advantage. therefore, there is one thing which they do not do,--honestly and critically examine what they call their education, asking themselves whether it is a good or a bad thing. if they do this, they will be unavoidably led to decry their education, and to begin to learn anew; and this alone is what is wanted. they will never be able to answer the question, as to what there is to be done, while they put it wrongly. the question should be put thus: "how can i, a helpless, useless man, recognizing the misfortune of having lost my best years in studying the scientific talmud, pernicious for soul and body, how can i rectify this mistake, and learn to serve men?" but the question is always put thus: "how can i, who have acquired so much fine information, how can i be useful to men with this my information?" therefore, a man can never answer the question, "what is to be done?" until he leaves off deceiving himself and repents. and repentance is not dreadful, even as truth is not dreadful, but it is equally beneficent and fruitful of good. we need only accept the whole truth and fully repent in order to understand that in life no one has any rights or privileges, and that there is no end of duties, and no limits to them, and that the first and unquestionable duty of a man is to take part in the struggle with nature for his own life and for the lives of other men. and this acknowledgment of men's duty forms the essence of the third answer to the question, "what is to be done?" i have tried to avoid deceiving myself. i have endeavoured to extirpate the last remnant of the false estimate of the importance of my education and talents, and to repent; but before answering the question, _what is to be done?_ there stands a new difficulty. there are so many things to be done, that one requires to know what is to be done in particular? and the answer to this question has been given me by the sincere repentance of the evil in which i have been living. what is to be done? what is there exactly to be done? everybody keeps asking; and i, too, kept asking this, while, under the influence of a high opinion of my own calling, i had not seen that my first and unquestionable business is to earn my living, clothing, heating, building, and so forth, and in doing this to serve others as well as myself, because, since the world has existed, the first and unquestionable duty of every man has been comprised in this. in this one business, man receives,--if he has already begun to take part in it,--the full satisfaction of all the bodily and mental wants of his nature; to feed, clothe, take care of himself and of his family, will satisfy his bodily wants; to do the same for others, will satisfy his spiritual. every other activity of man is only lawful when these have first been satisfied. in whatever department a man thinks his calling lies, whether in governing the people, in protecting his countrymen, in officiating at divine services, in teaching, in inventing the means of increasing the delights of life, in discovering the laws of the universe, in incorporating eternal truths in artistic images, the first and most unquestionable duty of a reasonable man will always consist in taking part in the struggle with nature for preserving his own life and the lives of other men. this duty must always rank first, because the most necessary thing for men is life: and therefore, in order to protect and to teach men, and to make their lives more agreeable, it is necessary to keep this very life; while by not taking part in the struggle, and by swallowing up the labour of others, other lives are destroyed. and it is folly and impossible to endeavour to serve men while destroying their lives. man's duty to acquire the means of living through the struggle with nature will always be unquestionably the very first of all duties, because it is the law of life, the violation of which unavoidably brings with it a punishment by destroying the bodily or mental life of man. if a man, living alone, free himself from the duty of struggling with nature, he will be at once punished by the perishing of his body. but if a man free himself from this duty by compelling other men to fulfil it for him, in ruining their lives, he will be at once punished by the destruction of his reasonable life; that is, of the life which has a reasonable sense in it. i had been so perverted by my antecedents, and this first and unquestionable law of god or nature is so hidden in our present world, that the fulfilling of it had seemed to me strange, and i was afraid and ashamed of it, as if the fulfilment, and not the violation, of this eternal and unquestionable law were strange, unnatural, and shameful. at first it seemed to me, that, in order to fulfil this law, some sort of accommodation was necessary, some established association of fellow-thinkers, the consent of the family, and life in the country (not in town): then i felt ashamed, as if i were putting myself forward in performing things so unusual to our life as bodily labour, and i did not know how to begin. but i needed only to understand that this was not some exclusive activity, which i have to invent and arrange, but that it was merely returning from the false condition in which i had lived to a natural one, merely rectifying that lie in which i had been living,--i had only to acknowledge all this, and all the difficulties vanished. it was not at all necessary to arrange and accommodate any thing, nor to wait for the consent of other people, because everywhere, in whatever condition i was, there were men who fed, dressed, and warmed me as well as themselves; and everywhere, under all circumstances, if i had sufficient time and strength, i was able to do these things for myself and for them. nor could i feel a false shame in performing actions unusual and strange to me, because, in not doing so, i already experienced, not a false, but a real, shame. having come to this conclusion, and to the practical deduction from it, i have been fully rewarded for not having been afraid of the deductions of reason, and for having gone where they led me. having come to this practical conclusion, i was struck by the facility and simplicity of the solution of all those problems which had formerly seemed to me so difficult and complicated. to the question, "what have we to do?" i received a very plain answer: do first what is necessary for yourself; arrange all you can do by yourself,--your tea-urn, stove, water, and clothes. to the question, "would not this seem strange to those who had been accustomed to do all this for me?" it appeared that it was strange only for about a week, and after a week it seemed more strange for me to return to my former condition. in answer to the question, "is it necessary to organize this physical labour, to establish a society in a village upon this basis?" it appeared that it was not at all necessary to do all this; that if the labour does not aim at rendering idleness possible, and at utilizing other men's labour,--as is the case with men who save up money,--but merely the satisfying of necessities, then such labour will naturally induce people to leave towns for the country, where this labour is most agreeable and productive. there was also no need to establish a society, because a workingman will naturally associate with other working-people. in answer to the question, "would not this labour take up all my time, and would it not deprive me of the possibility of that mental activity which i am so fond of, and to which i have become accustomed, and which in moments of doubt i consider to be useful?" the answer will be quite an unexpected one. the energy of my mental activity increased in proportion to bodily exercise, being freed from all that was superfluous. in fact, having spent eight hours in physical labour,--half a day,--which formerly i used to spend in endeavouring to struggle with dulness, there still remained for me eight hours, out of which in my circumstances i required five for mental labour; and if i, a very prolific writer, who had been doing nothing but write during forty years, and who had written three hundred printed sheets, then if during these forty years i had been doing ordinary work along with working-people, and, not taking into consideration winter evenings and holidays, had been reading and learning during the five hours a day, and had written only on holidays two pages a day (and i have sometimes written sixteen pages a day), i should have written the same three hundred printed sheets in fourteen years. a wonderful thing: a most simple arithmetical calculation which every boy of seven years of age may do, but which i had never done. day and night have together twenty-four hours; we sleep eight hours; there remain sixteen hours. if any man labour mentally five hours a day, he will do a vast amount of business; what do we, then, do during the remaining eleven hours? so it appears that physical labour not only does not exclude the possibility of mental activity, but improves and stimulates it. in answer to the question, whether this physical labour would deprive me of many innocent enjoyments proper to man, such as enjoyment of art, acquirement of knowledge, of social intercourse, and, generally, of the happiness of life, it was really quite the reverse: the more intense my physical labour, the more it approached that labour which is considered the hardest, to wit, agricultural labour, the more i acquired enjoyments, and knowledge, and the closer and more affectionate was my intercourse with mankind, and the more happiness did i feel in life. in answer to the question (which i hear so often from men who are not quite sincere), "what result can there be from such an awfully small drop in the sea? what is all my personal physical labour in comparison with the sea of labour which i swallow up?" to this question i also received a very unexpected answer. it appeared that as soon as i had made physical labour the ordinary condition of my life, at once the greatest part of the false and expensive habits and wants which i had while i had been physically idle, ceased of themselves, without any endeavour on my part. to say nothing of the habit of turning day into night, and _vice versa_, of my bedding, clothes, my conventional cleanliness, which all became impossible and embarrassing when i began to labour physically, both the quantity and the quality of my food was totally changed. instead of the sweet, rich, delicate, complicated, and highly spiced food, which i formerly liked, i now required and obtained plain food as being the most agreeable,--sour cabbage soup, porridge, black bread, tea with a bit of sugar. so that, apart from the example of common workingmen satisfied with little, with whom i came in closer intercourse, my very wants themselves were gradually changed by my life of labour; so that in proportion to my growing accustomed to this labour and acquiring the ways of it, my drop of physical labour became indeed more perceptible in the ocean of common labour; and in proportion as my labour grew more fruitful, my demands for other men's labour grew less and less, and, without effort or privation, my life naturally came nearer to that simple life of which i could not even have dreamed without fulfilling the law of labour. it became apparent that my former most expensive demands--the demands of vanity and amusement--were the direct result of an idle life. with physical labour, there was no room for vanity, and no need for amusement, because my time was agreeably occupied; and after weariness, simple rest while drinking tea, or reading a book, or conversing with the members of my family, was far more agreeable than the theatre, playing at cards, concerts, or large parties. in answer to the question, "would not this unusual labour be hurtful to health, which is necessary in order that i may serve men?" it appeared that, despite the positive assurance of eminent doctors that hard physical labour, especially at my age, might have the worst results (and that swedish gymnastics, riding, and other expedients intended to supply the natural conditions of man, would be far better), the harder i worked, the sounder, more cheerful, and kinder, i felt myself. it became undoubtedly certain that even as all those inventions of the human mind, such as newspapers, theatres, concerts, parties, balls, cards, magazines, novels, are nothing but means to sustain the spiritual life of men outside its natural condition of labour for others, so in the same way all the hygienic and medical inventions of the human mind for the provision of food, drink, dwelling, ventilation, warming of rooms, clothes, medicines, mineral water, gymnastics, electric and other cures, are all merely means to sustain the bodily life of man outside of its natural conditions of labour; and all these are nothing else than an establishment hermetically closed, in which, by means of chemical apparatus, the evaporation of water for the plants is arranged, when you need only to open the window, and do that which is natural, not for men alone but to beasts too; in other words, having absorbed the food, and thus produced a charge of energy, to discharge it by muscular labour. all the profound study of hygiene and of the art of healing for the men of our circle are like the efforts of a mechanic, who, having stopped all the valves of an overheated engine, should invent something to prevent this engine from bursting. when i had plainly understood all this, it seemed to me ridiculous, that i, through a long series of doubt, research, and much thinking, had arrived at this extraordinary truth, that if man has eyes, they are to be seen through; ears, to hear by; feet to walk with, and hands and back to work with,--and that if man will not use these, his members, for what they are meant, then it will be the worse for him. i came to this conclusion, that with us, privileged people, the same thing has happened which happened to the horses of a friend of mine: the steward, who was not fond of horses, and did not understand any thing about them, having received from his masters orders to prepare the best cobs for sale, chose the best out of the drove of horses, put them into the stable, fed them upon oats; but being over-anxious, he trusted them to nobody, neither rode them himself, nor drove nor led them. of course, all these horses became good for nothing. the same has happened to us with this difference,--that you cannot deceive horses, and, in order not to let them out, they must be fastened in; while we are kept in unnatural and hurtful conditions by all sorts of temptations, which fasten and hold us as with chains. we have arranged for ourselves a life which is against the moral and physical nature of man, and we use all the powers of our mind in order to assure men that this life is the real one. all that we call culture,--our science and arts for improving the delights of life,--all these are only meant to deceive man's natural moral requirements: all that we call hygiene, and the art of healing, are endeavours to deceive the natural physical want of human nature. but these deceits have their limits, and we are come to these limits. "if such be real human life, then it is better not to live at all," says the fashionable philosophy of schopenhauer and hartman. "if such is life, then it is better not to live at all," is the witness borne by the increasing number of suicides among the privileged classes. "if such be life, it is better for future generations, too, not to live," says the indulgent healing art, and invents means to destroy women's fecundity. in the bible the law to human beings is expressed thus: "in the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread," and "in sorrow thou shall bring forth children." the peasant bondaref, who wrote an article about this, threw great light upon the wisdom of this sentence. during the whole of my life, two thinking men--russians--have exercised a great influence over me: they have enriched my thoughts, and enlightened my contemplation of the world. these men were neither poets, nor learned men, nor preachers: they were two remarkable men, both now living, peasants,--sutaief and bondaref. but "nous avons changé tout ça," as says one of molière's personages, talking at random about the healing art, and saying that the liver is on the left side, "we have changed all that." men need not work,--all work will be done by machines; and women need not bring forth children. the healing art will teach different means of avoiding this, for there are already too many people in the world. in the krapivensky district,[ ] there wanders a ragged peasant, who during the war was a purchaser of bread for a commissary of stores. having become acquainted with this functionary, and having seen his comfortable life, he became mad, and now thinks that he, too, can live as gentlemen do, without work, being provided for by the emperor. [ ] tolstoy's village of yasnaya polyana is situated in this district.--ed. this peasant now calls himself "the most serene marshal prince blokhin, purveyor of war-stores of all kinds." he says of himself that he has gone through all ranks, and for his services during the war he has to receive from the emperor an unlimited bank-account, clothes, uniforms, horses, carriages, tea, servants, and all kinds of provision. when anybody asks him whether he would like to work a little, he only answers, "thanks: the peasants will attend to all that." when we say to him that the peasants also may not be disposed to work, he answers, "machines have been invented to ease the labour of peasants. they have no difficulty in their business." when we ask him what he is living for, he answers, "to pass away the time." i always consider this man as a mirror. i see in him myself and all my class. to pass through all ranks in order to live to pass away the time, and to receive an unlimited bank-account, while peasants attend to every thing, and find it easy to do so, because of the invention of machines. this is the exact form of the foolish belief of men of our class. when we ask what have we particularly to do, we are in reality asking nothing, but only asserting--not so sincerely indeed as the most serene marshal prince blokhin, who had passed through all ranks, and lost his mind--that we do not wish to do anything. he who has come to his senses cannot ask this, because from one side all that he makes use of has been done, and is being done, by the hands of men; on the other side, as soon as a healthy man has got up and breakfasted, he feels the inclination to work, as well with his feet as with his hands and brain. in order to find work, he has only not to restrain himself from labour. only he who considers labour to be a shame,--like the lady who asked her guest not to trouble herself to open the door, but to wait till she called a servant to do it,--only such persons can ask what is there to be done in particular. the difficulty is not in inventing work,--every one has enough to do for himself and for others,--but in losing this criminal view of life, that we eat and sleep for our own pleasure, and in gaining that simple and correct view in which every working-person grows up, that man first of all is a machine which is charged with food, and that therefore it is shameful, difficult, and impossible to eat and not to work; that to eat and not to work is a most dangerous state, and as bad as incendiarism. it is necessary only to have this consciousness, and we shall find work and this work will always be pleasant, and capable of satisfying all the wants of our soul and body. i picture to myself the whole matter thus: every man's day is divided by his meals into four parts, or four stages as it is called by the peasants: first, before breakfast; secondly, from breakfast to dinner; thirdly, from dinner to poldnik (a slight evening meal between dinner and supper); and fourthly, from poldnik to night. the activity of man to which he is drawn, is also divided into four kinds: first, the activity of the muscles, the labour of the hands, feet, shoulders, back,--hard labour by which one perspires; secondly, the activity of the fingers and wrists, the activity of skill and handicraft; thirdly, the activity of the intellect and imagination; fourthly, the activity of intercourse with other men. the goods which man makes use of may also be divided into four kinds: first, every man makes use of the productions of hard labour,--bread, cattle, buildings, wells, bridges, and so on; secondly, the productions of handicraft,--clothes, boots, hardware, and so on; thirdly, the productions of mental activity,--science, art; and fourthly, the intercourse with men, acquaintanceship, societies. i thought that it would be the best thing so to arrange the occupations of the day that one might be able to exercise all these four faculties, and to return all the four kinds of production of labour, which one makes use of; so that the four parts of the day were devoted, first, to hard labour; secondly, to mental labour; thirdly, to handicraft; fourthly, to the intercourse with men. it would be good if one could so arrange his labour; but if it is not possible to arrange thus, one thing is important,--to acknowledge the duty of labouring, the duty of making a good use of each part of the day. i thought that it would be only then that the false division of labour which now rules our society would disappear, and a just division would be established which should not interfere with the happiness of mankind. i, for instance, have all my life been busy with mental work. i had said to myself that i have thus divided the labour: that my special work is writing; that is, mental labour: and all other works necessary for me, i left to be done by other men, or rather compelled them to do it. but this arrangement, seemingly so convenient for mental labour, though unjust, became most inconvenient, especially for mental labour. i have been writing all my life, have accommodated my food, sleep, amusements, with reference to this special labour, and besides this work i did nothing. the results of which were, first, that i had been narrowing the circle of my observation and information, and often i had not any object to study, and therefore, having had to describe the life of men (the life of men is a continual problem of every mental activity), i felt my ignorance, and had to learn and to ask about such things, which everyone not occupied with a special work knows; secondly, it happened that when i sat down to write, i often had no inward inclination to write, and nobody wanted my writing for itself, that is, for my thoughts, but people merely wanted my name for profits in the magazines. i made great efforts to write what i could; sometimes i did not succeed at all; sometimes succeeded in writing something very bad, and i felt dissatisfied and miserable. so often and often weeks passed, during which i would eat, drink, sleep, warm myself, and do nothing--or do something of no use to anybody--i.e., commit the worst and meanest crime, scarcely ever committed by a man of the working class. but since i have acknowledged the necessity of physical labour as well as hard labour, and also that of handicraft, everything is quite different: my time is occupied however humbly, but certainly in a useful way, and pleasantly and instructively for me. therefore i, for the sake of my speciality, leave off this undoubtedly useful and pleasant occupation, only when i feel an inward want, or see a direct demand for my literary work. and this caused the quality, and therefore the usefulness and pleasantness, of my special labour to improve. thus it has happened that my occupation with those physical works, which are necessary for me as well as for every man, not only do not interfere with my special activity, but are a necessary condition of the utility, quality, and pleasantness of this activity. a bird is so created that it is necessary for it to fly, to walk, to peck, to consider; and when it does all this, it is satisfied and happy; then it is a bird. exactly so with a man when he walks, turns over heavy things, lifts them up, carries them, works with his fingers, eyes, ears, tongue, brain, then only is he satisfied, then only is he _a man_. a man who has come to recognise his calling to labour will be naturally inclined to that change of labour which is proper for him for the satisfying of his outward and inward wants, and he will reverse this order only when he feels an irresistible impulse to some special labour, and when other men require this labour from him. the nature of labour is such that the satisfying of all men's wants requires that very alternation of different kinds of labour which renders labour easy and pleasant. only the erroneous idea that labour is a curse could lead men to free themselves from some kinds of labour, that is, to seize other men's labour, requiring from other men that forced occupation with a special labour which is called nowadays the division of labour. we have become so accustomed to our false conception of the arrangement of labour that it seems to us that for a boot-maker, a machinist, a writer, a musician, it would be better to be freed from the labour proper to man. where there is no violence over other men's labour, nor a false belief in the pleasure of idleness, no man will for the sake of his special labour free himself from physical labour necessary for the satisfying of his wants, because special occupation is not a privilege, but a sacrifice to a man's inclination and for the sake of his brethren. a boot-maker in a village having torn himself from his usual pleasant labour in the field, and having begun his labour of mending or making boots for his neighbours, deprives himself of a pleasant, useful labour in the field for the sake of others, only because he is fond of sewing, and knows that nobody will do it better than he does, and that people will be thankful to him. but he cannot wish to deprive himself of the pleasant alternation of labour for all his life. the same with the starosta, the machinist, the writer, the learned man. it is only to our perverted ideas, that it seems, when the master sends his clerk to be a peasant, or government sentences one of its ministers to deportation, that they are punished and have been dealt with hardly. in reality they have had a great good done to them; that is, they have exchanged their heavy special work for a pleasant alternation of labour. in a natural society all is different. i know a commune where the people earn their living themselves. one of the members of this community was more educated than the rest; and they require him to deliver lectures, for which he has to prepare himself during the day, that he may be able to deliver them in the evening. he does it joyfully, feeling that he is useful to others, and that he can do it well. but he grows tired of the exclusive mental labour, and his health suffers accordingly. the members of the community therefore pity him, and ask him to come and labour in the field again. for men who consider labour to be the essential thing and the joy of life, the ground, the basis, of it will always be the struggle with nature,--not only in agricultural labour, but also in that of handicraft, mental work, and intercourse with men. the divergence from one or many of these kinds of labour, and specialities of labour, will be performed only when a man of special gifts, being fond of this work, and knowing that he performs it better than anybody else, will sacrifice his own advantage in order to fulfil the demands which others put directly to him. only with such a view of labour and the natural division of labour resulting from it, will that curse disappear which in our imagination we have put upon labour; and every labour will always be a joy, because man will do either an unquestionably useful, pleasant, and easy work, or will be conscious that he makes a sacrifice by performing a more difficult special labour for the good of others. but the division of labour is, it is said, more advantageous. advantageous for whom? is it more advantageous to make with all speed as many boots and cotton-prints as possible? but who will make these boots and cotton-prints? men who from generation to generation have been making only pin-heads? how, then, can it be more advantageous for people? if the object were to make as many cotton-prints and pins as possible, it would be so; but the question is, how to make people happy? the happiness of men consists in life. and life is in labour. how, then, can the necessity of painful, oppressing work be advantageous for men? if the question were only for the advantage of some men without any consideration of the welfare of all, then it might be most advantageous for some men to eat others. they say it is savoury! the thing most advantageous for all men is what i wish for myself,--the greatest welfare and the satisfying of all my wants which are ingrafted in me, those of body as well as those of soul, of conscience, and of reason. now, for myself i have found, that for my welfare and for the satisfying of these wants, i need only to be cured of the folly in which i (as well as the krapivensky madman) have lived, consisting in the idea that gentlefolk need not work, and that all must be done for them by others, and that, producing nothing, i have to do only what is proper to man,--satisfy my own wants. having discovered this, i became persuaded that this labour for the satisfying of my own wants, is divisible into various kinds of labour, each of which has its own charm, and is not only no burden, but serves as rest after some other labour. i have roughly divided labour, not in the least insisting on the propriety of such a division, into four parts parallel to the four parts of the labourer's day's work, divided by his meals; and thus i try to satisfy my wants. these are, then, the answers to the question, "what shall we do?" which i have found for myself. _first_, not to lie to myself. however far i have gone astray from that road of life which my reason shows to me, i must not be afraid of the truth. _secondly_, to renounce my own righteousness, my own advantages, peculiarities, distinguishing me from others, and to own my guilt. _thirdly_, to fulfil the eternal, unquestionable law of man,--by labouring with all my being to struggle with nature, to sustain my own life, and the lives of others. chapter xxxix i have now finished, having said all that concerns myself; but i cannot restrain my desire to say that which concerns every one, and to verify my own deductions by several considerations. i wish to explain why i think that a great many of my own class must arrive where i myself am, and i must also speak of what will result if even a few men arrive there; in the first place, if men of our circle, our caste, will only seriously think the matter out themselves, the younger generation, who seek their own personal happiness, will become afraid of the ever-increasing misery of lives which obviously lead them to ruin; scrupulous persons among us (if they would examine themselves more closely) will be terrified at the cruelty and unlawfulness of their own lives, and timid persons will be frightened at the danger of their mode of life. _the misery of our lives!_ however we, rich men, may try to mend and to support, with the assistance of science and art, this our false life, it must become weaker every day, unhealthier, and more and more painful: with each year, suicide, and the sin against the unborn babe, increase; with each year the new generations of our class grow weaker, with each year we feel more and more the increasing misery of our lives. it is obvious that on this road, with all its increase of the comforts and delights of life, of cures, artificial teeth and hair, and so on, there can be no salvation. this truth has become such a truism, that in newspapers advertisements are printed about stomach powder for rich people, under the title "blessings of the poor," where they say that only poor people have a good digestion, and the rich need help, and among other things this powder. you cannot ameliorate this matter by any kind of amusements, comforts, powders, but only by turning over a new leaf. _the contradiction of our life with our conscience._ however we may try to justify to ourselves our treason against mankind, all our justification falls to pieces before evidence: around us, people are dying from overwork and want; and we destroy the food, clothes, and labour of men merely to amuse ourselves. therefore the conscience of a man of our circle, though he may have but a small remainder of it in his breast, cannot be stifled, and poisons all these comforts and charms of life which our suffering and perishing brethren procure for us. not only does every conscientious man feel this himself, but he must feel it more acutely at present, because the best part of art and science, that part which still retains a sense of its high calling, constantly reminds him of his cruelty, and of the unlawfulness of his position. the old secure justifications are all destroyed; and the new ephemeral justifications of the progress of science for science's sake, and art for art's sake, will not bear the light of plain common sense. the conscience of men cannot be calmed by new devices: it can be calmed only by turning over a new leaf, when there will be no longer any need for justification. _the danger to our lives!_ however much we may try to hide from ourselves the plain and obvious danger of exhausting the patience of those whom we oppress; however much we may try to counteract this danger by all sorts of deceit, violence and flattery,--it grows day by day, hour by hour,--it has long been threatening us, but now it is so ready that we are scarcely able to hold our course,--as in a vessel tossed by a roaring and overflowing sea,--a sea which will presently swallow us up in wrath. the workman's revolution, with its terrors of destruction and murder, not only threatens us, but we have already lived above it for the last thirty years, and it is only by various cunning devices that we have postponed the explosion. such is the state in europe: such is the state in russia, and still worse there, because we have no safety-valves. the classes who oppress the people, with the exception of the tsar, have no longer any justification in the eyes of our people; they all keep up their position merely by violence, cunning, and expediency, i.e., skill; but the hatred towards us of the worst representatives of the people, and the contempt of us from the best, increases every hour. among the russian people a new word full of significance has been circulating during the last three or four years: by this word, which i never heard before, people are swearing in the streets, and by it they give us a definition--"parasites." the hatred and contempt of the oppressed people are increasing, and the physical and moral strength of the richer classes are decreasing: the deceit which supports all is wearing out, and the rich classes have nothing wherewith to comfort themselves in this mortal danger. to return to the old order of things is impossible, to restore the old prestige is impossible. it only remains for those who are not willing to change the course of their lives, and to turn over a new leaf,--to hope that, during their lives, they may fare well enough, after which the people may do as they like. so think the blind crowd of the rich; but the danger ever increases, and the awful catastrophe comes nearer and nearer. there are three reasons which should prove to rich people the necessity of turning over a new leaf: first, desire for their own personal welfare and that of their families, which is not secured by the way in which rich people are living; secondly, the inability to satisfy the voice of conscience, which is obviously impossible in the present condition of things; and thirdly, the threatening and constantly increasing danger to life, which cannot be met by any outward means. all these together ought to induce rich people to change their mode of life. this change alone would satisfy the desire of welfare and conscience, and would remove the danger. there is but one means of making such change,--to leave off deceiving ourselves, to repent, and to acknowledge labour to be, not a curse, but the joyful business of life. to this it is replied, "what will come out of the fact of my physical labour during ten, eight, or five hours, while thousands of peasants would gladly do it for the money which i have?" the first good result would be, that you will become livelier, healthier, sounder, kinder; and you will learn that real life from which you have hidden yourself, or which was hidden from you. the second good result will be, that, if you have a conscience, it will not only cease to suffer as it now suffers when looking at the labour of men,--the importance of which we always, from our ignorance, either increase or diminish,--but you will constantly experience a joyful acknowledgment that with each day you are satisfying more and more the demands of your conscience, and are leaving behind you that awful state in which so much evil is accumulated in our lives that we feel that we cannot possibly do any good in the world; you will experience the joy of free life, with the possibility of doing good to others; you will open for yourself a way into regions of the world of morality which have hitherto been shut to you. the third good result will be this, that, instead of constant fear of revenge upon your evil deeds, you will feel that you are saving others from this revenge, and are principally saving the oppressed from the cruel feeling of rancour and resentment. but it is generally said, that it would be ridiculous if we, men of our stamp, with deep philosophical, scientific, political, artistic, ecclesiastical, social questions before us, we, state ministers, senators, academists, professors, artists, singers, we, whose quarter-hours are valued so highly by men, should spend our time in doing--what? cleaning our boots, washing our shirts, digging, planting potatoes, or feeding our chickens and cows, and so on,--in business which not only our house-porter, or our cook, but thousands of men besides who value our time, would be very glad to do for us. but why do we dress, wash, and comb our hair ourselves? why do we walk, hand chairs to ladies, to our guests, open and shut the door, help people into carriages, and perform hundreds of actions which were formerly performed for us by our slaves? because we consider that such may be done by ourselves; that they are compatible with human dignity; that is, human duty. the same holds good with physical labour. man's dignity, his sacred duty, is to use his hands, his feet, for the purpose for which they were given him, to spend the swallowed food in work, which produces the food, and not to be wasted by disuse, not merely that he may wash and clean them and use them only for the purpose of stuffing food and cigarettes into his mouth. such is the meaning of physical labour for every man in every society. but in our class, with the divergence from this law of nature came the misery of a whole circle of men; and for us, physical labour receives another meaning,--the meaning of a preaching and a propaganda which divert the terrible evil which threatens mankind. to say that for an educated man, physical labour is a trifling occupation, is the same as to say, in the building of a temple, "what importance can there be in putting each stone exactly in its place?" every great act is done under the conditions of quietness, modesty, and simplicity. one can neither plough, nor feed cattle, nor think, during a great illumination, or amid thundering of guns, nor while in uniform. illumination, the roar of cannon, music, uniforms, cleanliness, brilliancy, which we usually connect with the idea of the importance of any act, are, on the contrary, tokens of the absence of importance in that act. great, true deeds are always simple and modest. such is also the greatest deed which is left to us to do,--the solution of those awful contradictions in which we are living. the acts which solve these contradictions are modest, imperceptible, seemingly ridiculous acts, such as helping ourselves by physical labour, and, if possible, helping others too: this is what we rich people have to do, if we understand the misery, wrong, and danger of the position in which we live. what will result from the circumstance that i, and another, and a third, and a tenth man, do not despise physical labour, but consider it necessary for our happiness, for the calming of our consciences, and for our safety? this will result from it,--that one, two, three, ten men, coming into conflict with no one, without violence either of government or of revolution, will solve for themselves the problem which is before all the world, and which has appeared unsolvable; and they will solve it in such a way that life will become for them a good thing: their consciences will be calm, and the evil which oppresses them will cease to be dreadful to them. another effect will be this: other men, too, will see that the welfare, which they have been looking for everywhere, is quite near them, that seemingly unsolvable contradictions between conscience and the order of the world are solved in the easiest and pleasantest way, and that, instead of being afraid of the men surrounding them, they must have intercourse with them, and love them. the seemingly unsolvable economical and social questions are like the problem of krilof's casket. the casket opened of itself, without any difficulty: but it will not open until men do the simplest and most natural thing; that is, open it. the seemingly unsolvable question is the old question of the utilizing some men's labour by others: this question, in our time, has found its expression in property. formerly, other men's labour was used simply by violence, by slavery: in our time it is being done by the means of property. in our time, property is the root of all evil and of the sufferings of men who possess it, or are without it, and of all the remorse of conscience of those who misuse it, and of the danger from the collision between those who have it, and those who have it not. property is the root of all evil, and, at the same time, property is that towards which all the activity of our modern society is directed, and that which directs the activity of the world. states and governments intrigue, make wars, for the sake of property, for the possession of the banks of the rhine, of land in africa, china, the balkan peninsula. bankers, merchants, manufacturers, land-owners, labourers, use cunning, torment themselves, torment others, for the sake of property; government functionaries, artisans, struggle, deceive, oppress, suffer, for the sake of property; courts of justice and police protect property; penal servitude, prisons, all the terrors of so-called punishments,--all is done for the sake of property. property is the root of all evil; and now all the world is busy with the distribution and protecting of wealth. what, then, is property? men are accustomed to think that property is something really belonging to man, and for this reason they have called it property. we speak indiscriminately of our own house and our own land. but this is obviously an error and a superstition. we know, and if we do not, it is easy to perceive, that property is only the means of utilizing other men's labour. and another's labour can by no means belong to me. it has nothing in common with the conception of property,--a conception very exact and precise. man has been, and will always call his own that which is subject to his own will and joined with his own consciousness. as soon as a man calls his own something which is not his body, but which he should like to be subject to his will as his body is, then he makes a mistake, and gets disappointment, and suffering, and compels other people to suffer as well. man calls his wife his own, his children, his slaves, his belongings, his own too; but the reality always shows him his error: and he must either get rid of this superstition, or suffer, and make others suffer. now we, having nominally renounced the possessing of slaves, owing to money (and to its exactment by the government), claim our right also to money; that is, to the labour of other men. but as to our claiming our wives as our property, or our sons, our slaves, our horses,--this is pure fiction contradicted by reality, and which only makes those suffer who believe in it; because a wife or a son will never be so subject to my will as my body is; therefore my own body will always remain the only thing i can call my true property; so also money, property,--will never be real property, but only a self-deception and a source of suffering, and it is only my own body which will be my property, that which always obeys me, and is connected with my consciousness. it is only to us, who are so accustomed to call other things than our body our own, that such a wild superstition can appear to be useful for us, and without evil results; but we have only to reflect upon the nature of the matter to see how this, like every other superstition, brings with it only dreadful consequences. let us take the most simple example. i consider myself my own, and another man like myself i consider my own too. i must understand how to cook my dinner: if i were free from the superstition of considering another man as my property, i should have been taught this art as well as every other necessary to my real property (that is, my body); but now i have it taught to my imaginary property, and the result is that my cook does not obey me, does not wish to humour me, and even runs away from me, or dies, and i remain with an unsatisfied want, and have lost the habit of learning, and recognize that i have spent as much time in worry about this cook as i should have spent in learning the art of cooking for myself. the same is the case with property in buildings, clothes, wares; with property in the land; with property in money. every imaginary property calls forth in me a non-corresponding want which cannot always be gratified, and deprives me of the possibility of acquiring for my true and sure property--my own body--that information, that skill, those habits, improvements, which i might have acquired. the result is always that i have spent (without gain to myself,--to my true property) strength, sometimes my whole life, on that which never has been, and never could be, my property. i provide myself with an imaginary "private" library, a "private" picture gallery, "private" apartments, clothes; acquire my "own" money in order to purchase with it every thing i want, and the matter stands thus,--that i, being busy about this imaginary property, which is not, and cannot be my property, however i may call it, and which is no object for activity, leave quite out of sight that which is my true property, upon which i may really labour, and which really may serve me, and which always remains in my power. words have always a definite meaning until we purposely give them a false signification. what does property mean? property means that which is given to me alone, which belongs to me alone, exclusively; that with which i may always do everything i like, which nobody can take away from me, which remains mine to the end of my life, and which i ought to use in order to increase and to improve it. for every man such property is only himself. it is in this very sense that imaginary property is understood, that very property for sake of which (making it impossible for this imaginary property to become a real one) all the sufferings of this world exist,--wars, executions, judgments, prisons, luxury, depravity, murders, and the ruin of mankind. what, then, will result from the circumstance that ten men plough, hew wood, make boots, not from necessity, but in acknowledgment that man needs work, and that the more he works, the better it will be for him? this will come out of it: that ten men, or even one single man, by thought and in deed, will show men that this fearful evil from which they are suffering, is not the law of their destiny, nor the will of god, nor any historical necessity, but is a superstition not at all strong or overpowering, but weak and null, which one need only leave off believing in, as in idols, in order to get rid of, and to destroy it even as a frail cobweb is swept away. men who begin to work in order to fulfil the pleasant law of their lives, who work for the fulfilment of the law of labour, will free themselves from this superstition of property which is so full of misery, and then all these worldly establishments which exist in order to protect this imaginary property outside of one's own body, will become not only unnecessary for them, but burdensome; and it will become clear to all that these institutions are not necessary, but pernicious, imaginary, and false conditions of life. for a man who considers labour not a curse, but a joy, property outside his own body--that is, the right or possibility of utilizing other men's labour--will be not only useless, but an impediment. if i am fond of cooking my dinner, and accustomed to do it, then the fact that another man will do it for me, will deprive me of my usual business, and will not satisfy me so well as i have satisfied myself; and further, the acquirement of imaginary property will not be necessary for such a man: a man who considers labour to be his very life, fills up all his life with it, and therefore requires less and less the labour of others,--in other words, as property to fill up his unoccupied time, and to embellish his life. if the life of a man is occupied by labour, he does not require many rooms, much furniture, various fine clothes: he does not require so much expensive food, or locomotion, or amusements. especially a man who considers labour to be the business and the joy of his life, will not seek to ease his own labour by utilizing that of others. a man who considers life to consist in labour, will aim, in proportion as he acquires more skill, craft, and endurance, at having more and more work to do, to occupy all his time. for such a man, who sees the object of his life in labour, and not in the results of his labour in acquirement of property, there cannot be even a question about the instruments of labour. though such a man will always choose the most productive instrument of labour, he will have the same satisfaction in working with the most unproductive. if he has a steam-plough, he will plough with it; if he has not such, he will plough with a horse-plough; if he has not this, he will plough with the plain russian sokhá; if he has not even this, he will use a spade: and under any circumstances, he will attain his aim; that is, will pass his life in labour useful to man, and therefore will have fullest satisfaction. the position of such a man, in exterior and interior circumstances, will be happier than the condition of a man who gives his life away to acquire property. according to exterior circumstances, he will never want, because men, seeing that he does not shirk work, will always try to make his labour most productive to them, as they arrange a mill by running water; and that his labour may be more productive, they will provide for his material existence, which they will never do for men who aim at acquiring property. the providing for material wants, is all that a man requires. according to interior conditions, such a man will be always happier than he who seeks for property, because the latter will never get what he is aiming at, and the former in proportion to his strength (even the weak, old, dying, according to the proverb, with a kored in his hands), will always receive full satisfaction, and the love and sympathy of men. one of the consequences of this will be, that certain odd, half-insane persons will plough, make boots, and so on, instead of smoking, playing cards, and riding about, carrying their dulness with them, from one place to another, during the ten hours which every brain worker has at his command. another result will be, that these silly people will demonstrate in deed, that that imaginary property for the sake of which men suffer, and torment themselves and others, is not necessary for happiness, and even impedes it, and is but a superstition; and that true property is only one's own head, hands, feet; and that, in order to utilize this true property usefully and joyfully, it is necessary to get rid of that false idea of property outside one's own body, on which we waste the best powers of our life. another result will be, that these men will demonstrate, that, when a man leaves off believing in imaginary property, then only will he make real use of his true property,--his own body, which will yield him fruit an hundred-fold, together with happiness such as we have no idea as yet; and he will be a useful, strong, kind man, who will everywhere stand on his own feet, will be always a brother to everybody, will be intelligible to all, desired by all, and dear to all. then men, looking at one,--at ten such "silly" men will understand what they have all to do to unfasten that dreadful knot in which they have all been tied by the superstition respecting property, and to get rid of the miserable condition under which they are now groaning, and from which they do not know how to free themselves. there is no reasoning which can so plainly demonstrate the unrighteousness of those who employ it as does this. the boatmen are dragging vessels against the stream. is it possible that there could be found a stupid boatman who would refuse to do his part in dragging, because he alone cannot drag the boat up against the stream? he who, besides his rights of animal life,--to eat and to sleep,--acknowledges any human duty, knows very well wherein such duty consists: just in the same way as a boatman knows that he has only to get into his breast-collar, and to walk in the given direction. he will only seek to know what to do and how to do it after having fulfilled his duty. as with the boatmen, and with all men who do any labour in common, so with the labour of all mankind; each man need only keep on his breast-collar, and go in the given direction. and for this purpose one and the same reason is given to all men that this direction may always be the same. that this direction _is_ given to us, is obvious and certain from the lives of those who surround us, as well as in the conscience of every man, and in all the previous expressions of human wisdom; so that only he who does not want work, can say that he does not see it. what, then, will come out of this? this, that first one man, then another, will drag; looking at them, a third will join; and so one by one the best men will join, until the business will be set a-going, and will move as of itself, inducing those also to join who do not yet understand why and wherefore it is being done. first, to the number of men who conscientiously work in order to fulfil the law of god, will be added those who will accept half conscientiously and half upon faith; then to these a still greater number of men, only upon faith in the foremost men; and lastly the majority of people: and then it will come to pass that men will cease to ruin themselves, and will find out happiness. this will happen (and it will happen soon) when men of our circle, and after them all the great majority of working-people, will no longer consider it shameful to clean sewers, but will consider it shameful to fill them up in order that other men, _our brethren_, may carry their contents away; they will not consider it shameful to go visiting in common boots, but they will consider it shameful to walk in goloshes beside barefooted people; they will not think it shameful not to know french, nor about the last novel, but they will consider it shameful to eat bread, and not to know how it is prepared; they will not consider it shameful not to have a starched shirt or a clean dress, but that it is shameful to wear a clean coat as a token of one's idleness; they will not consider it shameful to have dirty hands, but shameful not to have callouses on their hands. all this will come to pass when public opinion demands it. public opinion will demand it, when men get rid of those snares which hide the truth from them. great changes in this direction have taken place within my memory. these changes occurred only as public opinion changed. within my memory has happened this, that whereas rich men were ashamed if they could not drive out with a team of four horses, with two men-servants, and that it was considered shameful not to have a man-servant or a maid, to dress one, wash one, attend the chamber, and so on; now of a sudden it has become shameful not to dress and to wash oneself, without help, or to drive out with men-servants. all these changes have been accomplished by public opinion. can we not see the changes which public opinion is now preparing? twenty-five years ago it sufficed to destroy the snare which justified serfdom, and public opinion changed its attitude as to what is praiseworthy, and what is shameful, and life changed. it would suffice to destroy the snares justifying the power of money over men, and public opinion will change its view, concerning things praiseworthy and things shameful, and life will change. but the destroying of the snare justifying the power of money and the change of public opinion in this direction is already quickly taking place. this snare is already transparent and but slightly veils the truth. one needs only to look more attentively to see clearly that change of public opinion, which not only must take place, but which has been already accomplished, only not yet consciously acknowledged, not yet named. let a slightly educated man of our time think of the consequences ensuing from those views he holds concerning the universe, and he will see, that the unconscious estimate of good and evil, of praiseworthy and shameful, by which he is guided in life, directly contradicts all his conceptions of life. let a man of our times dismiss himself, if only for a minute, from his own inert life, and looking at it, as an outsider, subject it to that very estimate, resulting from his conception of life, and he will stand aghast before the definition of his life, which results from his conception of the world. let us take as an example, a young man (in young people the life energy is stronger and the self-consciousness is more vague) of the wealthy classes, and of any shade of opinions. every decent youth considers it a shame not to help an old man, a child, a woman; he considers it a shame to risk the life and health of another in common work while avoiding the danger for himself. everybody considers it shameful and barbarous to do what skyler tells about the kirghiz: who during storms sent out their wives and old women to hold the corners of the tent, while they remained inside drinking their koumis; everybody considers it a shame to force a weak man to work for him and still more shameful when in such danger, as, say, on a ship on fire, for the strongest to push aside the weak and go first into the life-boat, and so on. men consider all this shameful and would by no means act so under certain exceptional circumstances; but in everyday life the same actions and even worse,--being hidden by snares,--are constantly committed by them. one need only think of it earnestly to recognize the horror of it. a young man changes his shirts daily. who washes them? a woman, whatever her state may be, very often old enough to be his mother or grandmother, often unwell. how would this young man call another who out of whim, changes his clean shirt and sends it to be washed by a woman old enough to be his mother? a young man, that he may be smart, provides himself with horses and an old man, fit to be his father or grandfather, is set to training them, thus endangering his very life, and the young man rides on the horse when danger is over. what would the young man say about a man who, avoiding a dangerous situation for himself, puts another into it and for his pleasure allows such a risk? yet the whole life of the well-to-do classes consists of a chain of such actions. the overtaxing labour of old men, children and women, and work connected with danger to life done by others, not to help us to work but to satisfy our whims--these fill up our life. the fisherman gets drowned while catching fish for us, the washerwomen catch colds and die, the smith grows blind, those who work in factories get ill and injured by machinery, woodcutters are crushed by falling trees, workmen fall from roofs and are killed, needlewomen pine away. all real work is done with waste and danger to life. to hide this and refuse to see it is impossible. there is one salvation, one issue out of this situation, to wit--that if a man of our time is not to be obliged--according to his own principles--to call himself a scoundrel and a coward, who burdens others with work and danger to life--he must take from men only what is necessary for his life, and submit himself also to true labour associated with waste and danger to life. within my memory, more striking changes have taken place. i remember that at table, a servant stood with a plate, behind each chair. men made visits accompanied by two footmen. a cossack boy and a girl stood in a room to give people their pipes, and to clean them, and so on. now this seems to us strange and remarkable. but is it not equally strange that a young man or woman, or even an elderly man, that he may visit a friend, should order his horses to be harnessed, and that well-fed horses are kept only for this purpose? is it not as strange that one man lives in five rooms, or that a woman spends tens, hundreds, thousands of rubles for her dress when she only needs some flax and wool wherewith to spin dresses for herself, and clothes for her husband and children? is it not strange that men live doing nothing, riding to and fro, smoking and playing, and that a battalion of people are busy feeding and warming them? is it not strange that old people quite gravely talk and write in newspapers about theatres and music, and other insane people drive to look at musicians or actors? is it not strange that tens of thousands of boys and girls are brought up so as to make them unfit for every work (they return home from school, and their two books are carried for them by a servant)? there will soon come a time,--and it is already drawing near,--when it will be shameful to dine on five courses served by footmen, and cooked by any but the masters themselves; it will be shameful not only to ride thoroughbreds or to drive in a coach when one has feet to walk on; to wear on week-days dress, shoes, gloves, in which it is impossible to work; it will be shameful to play on a piano which costs one hundred and fifty pounds, or even ten pounds, while others work for one; to feed dogs upon milk and white bread, when there are men who have neither milk nor bread, and to burn lamps and candles without working by their light; to heat stoves in which no meal is cooked, while there are men who have neither light nor fuel. then it will be impossible to think about giving openly not merely one pound, but even six pence, for a place in a concert or in a theatre. all this will be when the law of labour becomes public opinion. chapter xl as it is said in the bible, there is a law given unto man and woman,--to man, the law of labour; to woman, the law of child-bearing. although with our science, "_nous avons changé tout ça_," the law of man as well as of woman remains as immutable as the liver in its place; and the breach of it is inevitably punished by death. the only difference is, that for man, the breach of law is punished by death in such a near future that it can almost be called present; but for woman, the breach of law is punished in a more distant future. a general breach, by all men, of the law, destroys men immediately: the breach by women destroys the men of the following generation. the evasion of the law by a few men and women does not destroy the human race, but deprives the offender of rational human nature. the breach of this law by men began years ago in the classes which could use violence with others; and, spreading on its way, it has reached our day, and has now attained madness, the ideal contained in a breach of the law, the ideal expressed by prince blokhin, and shared by renan and the whole educated world: work will be done by machines, and men will be bundles of nerves enjoying themselves. there has been scarcely any breach of the law by women. it has only manifested itself in prostitution, and in private cases of crime destroying progeny. women of the wealthy classes have fulfilled their law, while men did not fulfil theirs; and therefore women have grown stronger, and have continued to govern, and will govern, men, who have deviated from their law, and who, consequently, have lost their reason. it is generally said that women (the women of paris, especially those who are childless) have become so bewitching, using all the means of civilization, that they have mastered man by their charms. this is not only wrong, but it is just the reverse of the truth. it is not the childless woman who has mastered man, it is the mother, the one who has fulfilled her duty, while man has not fulfilled his. as to the woman who artificially remains childless, and bewitches man by her shoulders and curls, she is not a woman, mastering man, but a woman corrupted by him, reduced to the level of the corrupted man, who, as well as he, has deviated from her duty, who, as well as he, has lost every reasonable sense of life. this mistake also produces the astounding nonsense which is called "woman's rights." the formula of these rights is as follows:-- "you men," says woman, "have deviated from your law of true labour, and want us to carry the load of ours. no: if so, we also, as well as you, will make a pretence of labour, as you do in banks, ministries, universities, and academies; we wish, as well as you, by the pretence of division of work, to profit by other people's work, and to live, only to satisfy our lust." they say so, and in deed show that they can make that pretence of labour not at all worse, but even better, than men do it. the so-called question of women's rights arose, and could only arise, among men who had deviated from the law of real labour. one has only to return to it, and that question must cease to exist. a woman who has her own particular, inevitable labour will never claim the right of sharing man's labour,--in mines, or in ploughing fields. she claims her share only in the sham labour of the wealthy classes. the woman of our class was stronger than man, and is now still stronger, not through her charms, not through her skill in performing the same pharisaic similitude of work as man, but because she has not stepped outside of the law; because she has borne that true labour with danger of life, with uttermost effort; true labour, from which the man of the wealthy classes has freed himself. but within my memory has begun also the deviation from the law by woman,--that is to say, her fall; and within my memory, it has proceeded farther and farther. a woman who has lost the law, believes that her power consists in the charms of her witchery, or in her skill at a pharisaic pretence of intellectual labour. children hinder the one and the other. therefore, with the help of science (science is always helpful to everything wicked) within my memory it has come to pass that among the wealthy classes, scores of means of destroying progeny have appeared, and these means become a common attribute of the toilet. and behold,--women, mothers, some of them of the wealthy classes, who held their power in their hands, let it slip away, and place themselves on a level with women of the street. the evil has spread far, and spreads farther every day, and will soon grasp all the women of the wealthy classes; and then they will be on a level with the men, and together with them will lose every reasonable sense of life. there will be no return for this class then. but there is yet time. for there still remain more women than men who accomplish the law of their life, therefore there are still reasonable beings among them,--and thus some of the women of our class hold in their hands the possibility of salvation. if only women would understand their worth, their power, and would use these for the work of salvation of their husbands, brothers, and children,--the salvation of all men! women, mothers of the wealthy classes, in your hands is the salvation of men of our world from the evils from which it suffers. not those women who are occupied by their figures, bustles, head-dresses, and their charms for men, and who, against their will, by accident and in despair, bear children, and then give them over to wet-nurses; nor yet those who go to different lectures, and talk of psychometrical centres of differentiation, and who also try to free themselves from bearing children not to hinder their folly, which they call development,--but those women and mothers who, having the power of freeing themselves from child-bearing, hold strictly and consciously to that eternal, immutable law, knowing that the weight and labour of that submission is the aim of their life. these women and mothers of our wealthy classes are those in whose hands, more than in any others, lies the salvation of the men of our sphere in life, from the calamities which oppress them. you women and mothers who submit consciously to the law of god, you are the only ones who,--in our miserable, mutilated circle, which has lost all semblance of humanity,--know the whole true meaning of life according to the law of god; and you are the only ones who, by your example, can show men the happiness of that submission to god's law, of which they rob themselves. you are the only ones who know the joy and happiness which takes possession of one's whole being,--the bliss which is the share of every man who does not deviate from god's law. you know the joy of love to your husband,--a joy never ending, never destroyed, like all other joys, but forming the beginning of another new joy--love to your child. you are the only ones, when you are simple and submissive to god's law, who know, not the farcical pretence of labour, which men of your world call labour, but that true labour which is imposed by god upon men, and you know the rewards for it,--the bliss which it gives. you know it, when after the joys of love, you expect with emotion, fear, and hope, the torturing state of pregnancy, which makes you ill for nine months, and brings you to the brink of death and to unbearable sufferings and pains: you know the conditions of true labour, when with joy you expect the approach and increase of the most dreadful sufferings, after which comes the bliss, known to you only. you know it when, directly after those sufferings, without rest, without interruption, you undertake another series of labours and sufferings,--those of nursing; for the sake of which you subjugate to your feeling, and renounce, the strongest human necessity,--that of sleep, which, according to the saying, is sweeter than father and mother. for months and years you do not sleep two nights running, and often you do not sleep whole nights; walking alone to and fro, rocking in your wearied arms an ailing baby, whose sufferings tear your heart. when you do all this, unapproved and unseen by anybody, not expecting any praise or reward for it; when you do this, not as a great deed, but as the labourer of the gospel parable, who came from the field, considering that you are only doing your duty,--you know then what is false, fictitious labour,--for human fame; and what is true labour,--the fulfilment of god's will, the indication of which you feel in your heart. you know, if you are a true mother, that not only has nobody seen and praised your labour, considering that it is only what ought to be, but even those for whom you toiled are not only ungrateful to you, but often torment and reproach you. with the next child you do the same,--again you suffer, again you bear unseen, terrible toil, and again you do not expect any reward from anybody, and feel the same satisfaction. if you are such, in your hands must lie the power over men, and in your hands lies the salvation. your number is decreasing every day: some busy with practising their charms over men, become prostitutes; others are engaged in competition with men in their artificial, ludicrous occupations; the third, who have not yet renounced their vocation, begin to repudiate it in their minds: they perform all the deeds of women and mothers, but accidentally, with grumblings and envy of the free women, not bearing children,--and so deprive themselves of the only reward for them--the inner consciousness of the fulfilment of god's will--and instead of being satisfied they suffer from what is really their happiness. we are so confused by our false life, we, men of our circle, have all of us so utterly lost the sense of life, that we do not differ from one another. having loaded others with all the burdens and dangers of life, we dare not call ourselves by the true names deserved by those who force others to perish in providing life for them--scoundrels, cowards. but among women a distinction still exists. there are women,--human beings, women,--presenting the highest manifestation of a human being; and there are women--prostitutes. this discrimination will be made by succeeding generations, and we, too, cannot help making it. every woman, however she dresses, however she calls herself, however refined she may be, if being married she abstains from bearing children, is a prostitute. however low a lost woman may be, if she consciously devotes herself to bearing children, she does the best and highest work of life in fulfilling the will of god, and she has no superior. if you are such, you will not say, after two or after twenty children, that you have borne children enough; as a fifty-year old workman will not say that he has worked enough, while he still eats and sleeps, and his muscles demand work. if you are such, you will not cast the trouble of nursing and care on a strange mother,--any more than a workman will give the work which he has begun, and nearly finished, to another man,--because in that work you put your life, and because, the more you have of that work, the fuller and happier is your life. but when you are like this,--and, happily for men, there are yet such women,--the same law of fulfilment of god's will, by which you guide your own life, you will also apply to the life of your husband, of your children, and of men near to you. if you are such, and if you know by experience that only self-denied, unseen, unrewarded labour with danger of life, and uttermost effort for the life of others, is the mission of man which gives satisfaction, you will claim the same from others, you will encourage your husband to do the same labour, you will value and appreciate the worth of men by this same labour, and for it you will prepare your children. only that mother who looks on child-bearing as a disagreeable accident, and upon the pleasures of love, comfort, education, sociability, as the meaning of life, will bring up her children so that they shall have as many pleasures, and enjoy them as much as possible; will feed them luxuriously, dress them smartly, will artificially divert them, and will teach them, not that which will make them capable of self-sacrificing man's and woman's labour with danger of life and uttermost effort, but that which will deliver them from that labour,--which will give them diplomas and idleness. only such a woman, who has lost the significance of her life, will sympathize with that false, sham man's labour, by means of which her husband, freeing himself from man's duty, may profit, together with her, by the labour of others. only such a woman will choose a similar husband for her daughter, and will value men, not for what they are in themselves, but for what is attached to them,--position, money, the art of profiting by the labour of others. a true mother, who really knows god's law, will prepare her children for the fulfilment of it. for such a mother it will be suffering to see her child overfed, pampered, overdressed, because all this, she knows, will hinder it in the fulfilment of god's law, experienced by herself. such a woman will not teach that which will give her son or daughter the possibility of delivering themselves from labour, but that which will help them to bear the labour of life. she will not want to ask what to teach her children, or for what to prepare them, knowing what it is and in what consists the mission of men, and consequently knowing what to teach her children, and for what to prepare them. such a woman will not only discourage her husband from false, sham labour, the only aim of which is to profit by other people's work, but will view with disgust and dread an activity that will serve as a double temptation for her children. such a woman will not choose her daughter's husband according to the whiteness of his hands, and the refinement of his manners, but, knowing thoroughly what is labour and what deceit, will always and everywhere, beginning with her husband, respect and appreciate men, in claiming from them true labour with waste and danger of life, and will scorn that false, sham labour which has for its aim the delivering of one's self from true labour. and let not those women say,--who, while renouncing the vocation of women, desire to profit by its rights,--that such a view of life is impossible for a mother, that a mother is too intimately connected by love to her children to deprive them of sweets, smart dresses, or entertainments, or not to fear their being unprovided for, if the husband has no fortune or secure position, or not to be afraid for the future of the marrying daughters and sons, who have not got an "education." all this is a lie, a burning lie! a true mother will never say this: "you cannot keep yourself from the desire to give them sweets, toys, to take them to the circus?" but surely you don't give them poisonous berries to eat, you do not let them go out alone in a boat, you do not take them to a café chantant? why then can you restrain yourselves in this case and not in that? because you do not tell the truth. you say that you love the children so much that you fear for their life, you are so afraid of hunger, and cold, and that is why you appreciate so much the security, which your husband's position provides for you, though you consider it unlawful. you are so afraid of future eventualities, calamities for your children which are very distant and doubtful,--and you therefore encourage your husband to do things unjustifiable in your opinion; but what are you doing now to secure your children in their present conditions of life from the unfortunate eventualities of the present life? do you spend much of your time during the day with your children? you do well if you spend one-tenth of the day! the remaining time they are under the care of strangers, hired people, often taken from the street, or they are in institutions, open to the dangers of moral and physical infection. your children eat, they are nourished. who cooks their dinner and what from? mostly you know nothing about it. who instills moral principles into them? neither do you know that! then do not say, that you are suffering evil for the good of your children--it is not true. you do evil because you like it. a true mother, the one who in bearing and bringing up children sees her self-sacrificing vocation of life and the fulfilment of god's will--will not say it. she will not say it, because she knows it is not her business to make of her children what she herself or current opinions require. she knows that children, i.e., the following generations,--are the greatest and most sacred thing which is given to men to behold in reality: and, to serve with all her being, this sacred cause is her life. she knows herself,--being constantly between life and death and ever rearing the feebly flickering life,--that life and death are not her business, her business is to serve life, and she will not therefore search for distant paths of this service but will only endeavour not to avoid the near one. such a mother _will bring forth and nurse her children herself_, and, above all things else, will feed and provide for them, will work for them, wash and teach them, will sleep and talk with them, because she makes that her life-work. only such a mother will not seek for her children external security through her husband's money, or her children's diplomas, but she will exercise in them the same capacity of self-sacrificing fulfilment of god's will which she knows in herself, the capacity for bearing labour with waste and danger of life, because she knows that only in that lie the security and welfare of life. such a mother will not have to ask others what is her duty: she will know every thing, and will fear nothing, for she will always know that she has done what she was called to do. if there can be doubts for a man or for a childless woman about the way to fulfil god's will, for a mother that way is firmly and clearly drawn; and if she fulfils it humbly, with a simple heart, standing on the highest point of good, which it is only given to a human being to attain, she becomes the guiding-star for all men, tending to the same good. only a mother can before her death say to him who sent her into this world, and to him whom she has served by bearing and bringing up children, beloved by her more than herself,--only she can peacefully say, after having served him in her appointed service,-- "'now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace.'" and this is that highest perfection, to which, as to the highest good, men aspire. such women who fulfil their mission, are those who reign over reigning men, and serve as a guiding-star to humanity,--those who prepare new generations of men and form public opinion: and therefore in the hands of these women lies the highest power of men's salvation from the existing and threatening evils of our time. yes, women, mothers, in your hands, more than in those of any others, lies the salvation of the world! note to chapter xl the vocation of every man and woman is to serve other people. with this general proposition, i think all who are not immoral people will agree. the difference between men and women in the fulfilment of that vocation, is only in the means by which they attain it; that is to say, by which they serve men. man serves others by physical work,--procuring food; by intellectual work,--studying the laws of nature in order to master it; and by social work,--instituting forms of life, and establishing mutual relationships between people. the means of serving others are various for men. the whole activity of mankind, with the exception of bearing children and rearing them, is open for his service to men. a woman, in addition to the possibility of serving men by all the means open to man is, by the construction of her body, called and inevitably attracted, to serve others by that which alone is excepted from the domain of the service of man. the service of mankind is divided into two parts,--one, the augmentation of the welfare of mankind; the other, the continuation of the race. men are called chiefly to the first, as they are deprived of the possibility of fulfilling the second. women are called exclusively to the second, as they only are fitted for it. this difference one should not, one can not, forget or destroy; and it would be sinful to do so. from this difference proceed the duties of each,--duties not invented by men, but which are in the nature of things. from the same difference proceeds the estimation of virtue and vice for woman and man,--the estimation which has existed in every century, which exists now, and which will never cease to exist while reason exists in men. it always has been the case, and it always will be, that a man who spends a great part of his life in the various physical and mental labours which are natural to him, and a woman who spends a great part of her life in the labour of bearing, nursing, and rearing children, which is her exclusive prerogative, will alike feel that they are doing their duty, and will alike rise in the esteem and love of other people, because they both fulfil what is appointed because such is the substance of the matter. the vocation of man is broader and more varied; the vocation of woman more uniform and narrower, but more profound: and therefore it has always been, and always will be, the case, that man, having hundreds of duties, will be neither a bad nor a pernicious man, even when he has been false to one or ten out of them, if he fulfils the greater part of his vocation; while woman, as she has a smaller number of duties, if she is false to one of them, instantly falls lower than a man, who has been false to ten out of his hundreds of duties. such has always been the general opinion, and such it will always remain,--because such is the substance of the matter. a man, in order to fulfil god's will, must serve him in the domain of physical work, thought and morality: in all these ways he can fulfil his vocation. woman's service to god consists chiefly and almost exclusively in bearing children (because no one except herself can render it). only by means of work, is man called to serve god and his fellow-men: only by means of her children, is a woman called to serve them. therefore, that love to her own children which is inborn in woman, that exclusive love against which it is quite vain to strive by reasoning, will always be, and ought to be, natural to a woman and a mother. that love to a child in its infancy is not egotism, it is the love of a workman for the work which he is doing while it is in his hands. take away that love for the object of one's work, and the work becomes impossible. while i am making a boot, i love it above everything. if i did not love it, i could not work at it. if anybody spoils it for me, i am in despair; but i only love it thus while i am working at it. when it is completed, there remains an attachment, a preference, which is weak and illegitimate. it is the same with a mother. a man is called to serve others by multifarious labours, and he loves those labours while he is accomplishing them. a woman is called to serve others by her children, and she cannot help loving those children of hers while she is rearing them to the age of three, seven, or ten years. in the general vocation of serving god and others, man and woman are entirely equal, notwithstanding the difference of the form of that service. the equality consists in the equal importance of one service and of the other,--that the one is impossible without the other, that the one depends upon the other, and that for efficient service, as well for man as for woman, the knowledge of truth is equally necessary. without this knowledge, the activity of man and woman becomes not useful but pernicious for mankind. man is called to fulfil his multifarious labour; but his labour is only useful, and his physical, mental, and social labour is only fruitful, when it is fulfilled in the name of truth and the welfare of others. a man can occupy himself as zealously as he will to increase his pleasures by vain reasoning and with social activity for his own advantage: his labour will not be fruitful. it will be so only when it is directed towards lessening the suffering of others through want and ignorance and from false social organization. the same with woman's vocation: her bearing, nursing, and bringing up children will only be useful to mankind when she gives birth to children not only for her own pleasure, but when she prepares future servants of mankind; when the education of those children is done in the name of truth and for the welfare of others,--that is to say, when she will educate her children in such a manner that they shall be the very best men possible, and the very best labourers for others. the ideal woman, in my opinion, is the one who,--appropriating the highest view of life of the time in which she lives, yet gives herself to her feminine mission, which is irresistibly placed in her,--that of bringing forth, nursing and educating, the greatest possible number of children, fitted to work for people according to the view which she has of life. in order to appropriate the highest view of life, i think there is no need of visiting lectures: all that she requires is to read the gospel, and not to shut her eyes, ears, and, most of all, her heart. well, and if you ask what those are to do who have no children, who are not married, or who are widows, i answer that those will do well to share man's multifarious labour. but one cannot help feeling sorry that such a precious tool as woman is, should be bereft of the possibility of fulfilling the great vocation which it is given to her alone to fulfil. especially as every woman, when she has finished bearing children, if she has strength left, will have time to occupy herself with help in man's labour. woman's help in that labour is very precious; but it will always be a pity to see a young woman fit for child-bearing occupied by man's labour. to see such a woman, is the same as to see precious vegetable soil covered with stones as a place of parade or as a walking-ground. still more a pity, because the earth could only produce bread, and a woman could produce that for which there cannot be any equivalent, than which there is nothing higher,--man. and only she is able to do this. the end just published, price d. new stories by leo tolstoy. king assarhadon, and other two stories. with introduction, including quotations from the letters of leo tolstoy. authorized translation by v. tchertkoff (editor of "the free age press.") and i. f. m. with frontispiece, on plate paper, of the latest portrait of tolstoy on horseback, august, . by request of tolstoy, the profits of this work will be devoted to the relief of the families of the jews massacred in russia. the free age press, , paternoster row, london. [ transcriber's note: the following is a list of corrections made to the original. the first line is the original line, the second the corrected one. strive to eradicate, each from himself, those false ideas, alse strive to eradicate, each from himself, those false ideas, false permanent cloth-bound volumes, permanent cloth-bound volumes. raiment? (matt. vi, - .) raiment?" (matt. vi. - .) a rich man to enter into the kingdom of god." (luke xviii. ). a rich man to enter into the kingdom of god." (luke xviii. .) began to speak, he was shouldered aside by a big, black, hook-nosed began to speak, he was shouldered aside by a big, black, hook-nosed, protection. they attempted to drag me out of the crush,. but the crowd protection. they attempted to drag me out of the crush. but the crowd pauperism in moscow, and te help exterminate it by personal effort and pauperism in moscow, and to help exterminate it by personal effort and with his air of decreptitude, feebleness, and poverty. here he appeared with his air of decrepitude, feebleness, and poverty. here he appeared he was evidently pleased to have intercouse with the world which used he was evidently pleased to have intercourse with the world which used women and men. as we approached them, ivan fedotitch said, "now, here's women and men. as we approached them, iván fedotitch said, "now, here's no: it is that woman's there." "no: it is that woman's there." called the _dens_ in rzhanoff's house; where, however, three-forths of called the _dens_ in rzhanoff's house; where, however, three-fourths of and, strange to say, thought it might seem that to do good and to give and, strange to say, though it might seem that to do good and to give through the people. he did not notice me and said hurredly,-- through the people. he did not notice me and said hurriedly,-- chistmas-tree, and so on. yet a man who needs ten rubles to buy bread christmas-tree, and so on. yet a man who needs ten rubles to buy bread will try to find for the poor people some work to do. will try to find for the poor people some work to do." more than a mere passer-by, and, if as, it often happened, he shed tears more than a mere passer-by, and, if, as it often happened, he shed tears happened to give money or anything else to the poor,, and in my happened to give money or anything else to the poor, and in my little good ;such as, for instance, the poor prostitute did who nursed a little good; such as, for instance, the poor prostitute did who nursed a i see that there is going on something like what would take place in a i see that there is going on something like what would take place in an incomprehensible and painful. incomprehensible, and painful. rent (the value of the ground) belongs to the land.owner; interest rent (the value of the ground) belongs to the land-owner; interest that some men by means of money, acquire an imaginary right to land and that some men, by means of money, acquire an imaginary right to land and colonists, began to try to raise money in melbourne among the mrechants, colonists, began to try to raise money in melbourne among the merchants, this phenomena repeats itself in america, in china, in central asia; this phenomenon repeats itself in america, in china, in central asia; if the object of this sham pseudo--science of political economy had not if the object of this sham pseudo-science of political economy had not the meaning of a ransom from violence.. the meaning of a ransom from violence. assessors of direct taxation, supervisers, custom-house clerks, managers assessors of direct taxation, supervisors, custom-house clerks, managers its advantages for the oppressed is only that he is allowed greater its advantage for the oppressed is only that he is allowed greater this third method of enslaving men is also very old,, and comes into this third method of enslaving men is also very old, and comes into benefit a man who, against his will, has been obiged to pay a sovereign benefit a man who, against his will, has been obliged to pay a sovereign the violent seizures of the labourers' land has been justified as the the violent seizure of the labourers' land has been justified as the slave-owner claims a right to the work of peter, ivan, sidor. but slave-owner claims a right to the work of peter, iván, sidor. but knows about his right on ivan, at the same time it removes all those knows about his right on iván, at the same time it removes all those so it is with money. i have a magical, everlasting rouble; i cut off so it is with money. i have a magical, everlasting ruble; i cut off surrounding him, there exists a most clear simple, and easy means, the surrounding him, there exists a most clear, simple, and easy means, the whom moscow is filled, and the woman into the position of the girl whom whom moscow is filled, and the women into the position of the girl whom getting themselves up as no girl and no women who is not yet depraved getting themselves up as no girl and no woman who is not yet depraved sweatmeats, cigarettes, and clean shirts, when their production is sweetmeats, cigarettes, and clean shirts, when their production is it maybe that i shall eat human flesh when urged by hunger; but i shall it may be that i shall eat human flesh when urged by hunger; but i shall healed then said i, lord, how long? and he answered, until cities healed. then said i, lord, how long? and he answered, until cities perish in the struggle. perish in the struggle? a great many justifications have been invented however strange it may a great many justifications have been invented. however strange it may soothsayers, the emperors of rome and those of the middle ages and their soothsayers, the emperors of rome and those of the middle ages and their appropriated the the labour of others, we find ourselves better able to appropriated the labour of others, we find ourselves better able to undoubtedly done by them. on what grounds do they believe this. to the undoubtedly done by them. on what grounds do they believe this? to the chapter xxii chapter xxix will only inquire, "what spirit?" "where did it come from"? "with what will only inquire, "what spirit?" "where did it come from?" "with what many separate organism; so, for instance, out of a swarm of bees a many separate organisms; so, for instance, out of a swarm of bees a therefore it must exist in human societies too." that may be so; but the therefore it must exist in human societies too. that may be so; but the given, to catharine the empress, or to the rebel pugatchof? and no given, to catherine the empress, or to the rebel pugatchof? and no offer to feed him in compensation for what the y ask him to do for them. offer to feed him in compensation for what they ask him to do for them. accustomed. give me bodily food, and and in return i will give you the accustomed. give me bodily food, and in return i will give you the forced to keep up these schools? they they will be still poorer, and forced to keep up these schools? then they will be still poorer, and themselves from labour bceause they promised to provide mental food for themselves from labour because they promised to provide mental food for other cells similar to you other cells similar to you. all the complex, disjointed, intricate, and meaningless phenomna of all the complex, disjointed, intricate, and meaningless phenomena of seemed to me so difficult and complicated to the question, "what have seemed to me so difficult and complicated. to the question, "what have life," then it is better not to live at all," is the witness borne by the life, then it is better not to live at all," is the witness borne by the do you spend much of your time during the day with your children. you do do you spend much of your time during the day with your children? you do ] note: project gutenberg also has an html version of this file which includes the original illustrations. see -h.htm or -h.zip: (http://www.gutenberg.net/dirs/ / / / / / -h/ -h.htm) or (http://www.gutenberg.net/dirs/ / / / / / -h.zip) makers of history peter the great by jacob abbott with engravings [illustration: portrait of peter the great.] new york and london harper & brothers publishers entered, according to act of congress, in the year one thousand eight hundred and fifty-nine, by harper & brothers, in the clerk's office of the district court of the southern district of new york. copyright, , by benjamin vaughan abbott, austin abbott, lyman abbott, and edward abbott. preface. there are very few persons who have not heard of the fame of peter the great, the founder, as he is generally regarded by mankind, of russian civilization. the celebrity, however, of the great muscovite sovereign among young persons is due in a great measure to the circumstance of his having repaired personally to holland, in the course of his efforts to introduce the industrial arts among his people, in order to study himself the art and mystery of shipbuilding, and of his having worked with his own hands in a ship-yard there. the little shop where peter pursued these practical studies still stands in saardam, a ship-building town not far from amsterdam. the building is of wood, and is now much decayed; but, to preserve it from farther injury, it has been incased in a somewhat larger building of brick, and it is visited annually by great numbers of curious travelers. the whole history of peter, as might be expected from the indications of character developed by this incident, forms a narrative that is full of interest and instruction for all. [transcriber's note: in the original book, each page had a header summarizing the contents of that page. these headers have been collected into introductory paragraphs at the start of each chapter. the headers also contain the year in which the events on the page took place. these dates have been placed between the chapter title and the introductory paragraph, in the form of a date range, e.g., for chapter i, " - ."] contents. chapter i. the princess sophia ii. the princess's downfall iii. the childhood and youth of peter iv. le fort and menzikoff v. commencement of the reign vi. the emperor's tour vii. conclusion of the tour viii. the rebellion ix. reforms x. the battle of narva xi. the building of st. petersburg xii. the revolt of mazeppa xiii. the battle of pultowa xiv. the empress catharine xv. the prince alexis xvi. the flight of alexis xvii. the trial xviii. the condemnation and death of alexis xix. conclusion engravings. portrait of peter . . . . . . . . . . . . _frontispiece_. the escape menzikoff selling his cakes peter among the shipping peter turning executioner map of the russian and swedish frontier stratagems of the swedes situation of st. petersburg flight of the king of sweden the empress catharine the czar's visit to alexis in prison peter the great. chapter i. the princess sophia. - parentage of peter--his father's double marriage--death of his father--the princesses--their places of seclusion--theodore and john--sophia uneasy in the convent--her request--her probable motives--her success--increase of her influence--jealousies--parties formed--the imperial guards--their character and influence--dangers--sophia and the soldiers--sophia's continued success--death of theodore--peter proclaimed--plots formed by sophia--revolution--means of exciting the people--poisoning--effect of the stories that were circulating--peter and his mother--the monastery of the trinity--natalia's flight--narrow escape of peter--commotion in the city--sophia is unsuccessful--couvansky's schemes--sophia's attempt to appease the soldiers--no effect produced--couvansky's views--his plan of a marriage for his son--indignation of sophia--a stratagem--couvansky falls into the snare--excitement produced by his death--galitzin--measures adopted by him--they are successful the circumstances under which peter the great came to the throne form a very remarkable--indeed, in some respects, quite a romantic story. the name of his father, who reigned as emperor of russia from to , was alexis michaelowitz. in the course of his life, this emperor alexis was twice married. by his first wife he had two sons, whose names were theodore and john,[ ] and four daughters. the names of the daughters were sophia, catharine, mary, and sediassa. by his second wife he had two children--a son and a daughter. the name of the son was peter, and that of the daughter was natalia alexowna. of all these children, those with whom we have most to do are the two oldest sons, theodore and john, and the oldest daughter, sophia, by the first wife; and peter, the oldest son by the second wife, the hero of this history. the name of the second wife, peter's mother, was natalia. of course, theodore, at his father's death, was heir to the throne. next to him in the line of succession came john; and next after john came peter, the son of the second wife; for, by the ancient laws and usages of the muscovite monarchy, the daughters were excluded from the succession altogether. indeed, not only were the daughters excluded themselves from the throne, but special precautions were taken to prevent their ever having sons to lay claim to it. they were forbidden to marry, and, in order to make it impossible that they should ever violate this rule, they were all placed in convents before they arrived at a marriageable age, and were compelled to pass their lives there in seclusion. of course, the convents where these princesses were lodged were very richly and splendidly endowed, and the royal inmates enjoyed within the walls every comfort and luxury which could possibly be procured for them in such retreats, and which could tend in any measure to reconcile them to being forever debarred from all the pleasures of love and the sweets of domestic life. now it so happened that both theodore and john were feeble and sickly children, while peter was robust and strong. the law of descent was, however, inexorable, and, on the death of alexis, theodore ascended to the throne. besides, even if it had been possible to choose among the sons of alexis, peter was at this time altogether too young to reign, for at his father's death he was only about four years old. he was born in , and his father died in . theodore was at this time about sixteen. of course, however, being so young, and his health being so infirm, he could not take any active part in the administration of government, but was obliged to leave every thing in the hands of his counselors and ministers of state, who managed affairs as they thought proper, though they acted always in theodore's name. there were a great many persons who were ambitious of having a share of the power which the young czar thus left in the hands of his subordinates; and, among these, perhaps the most ambitious of all was the princess sophia, theodore's sister, who was all this time shut up in the convent to which the rules and regulations of imperial etiquette consigned her. she was very uneasy in this confinement, and wished very much to get released, thinking that if she could do so she should be able to make herself of considerable consequence in the management of public affairs. so she made application to the authorities to be allowed to go to the palace to see and take care of her brother in his sickness. this application was at length complied with, and sophia went to the palace. here she devoted herself with so much assiduity to the care of her brother, watching constantly at his bedside, and suffering no one to attend upon him or to give him medicines but herself, that she won not only his heart, but the hearts of all the nobles of the court, by her seemingly disinterested sisterly affection. indeed, it is not by any means impossible that sophia might have been at first disinterested and sincere in her desire to minister to the wants of her brother, and to solace and comfort him in his sickness. but, however this may have been at the outset, the result was that, after a time, she acquired so much popularity and influence that she became quite an important personage at court. she was a very talented and accomplished young woman, and was possessed, moreover, of a strong and masculine character. yet she was very agreeable and insinuating in her manners; and she conversed so affably, and at the same time so intelligently, with all the grandees of the empire, as they came by turns to visit her brother in his sick chamber, that they all formed a very high estimate of her character. she also obtained a great ascendency over the mind of theodore himself, and this, of itself, very much increased her importance in the eyes of the courtiers. they all began to think that, if they wished to obtain any favor of the emperor, it was essential that they should stand well with the princess. thus every one, finding how fast she was rising in influence, wished to have the credit of being her earliest and most devoted friend; so they all vied with each other in efforts to aid in aggrandizing her. things went on in this way very prosperously for a time; but at length, as might have been anticipated, suspicions and jealousies began to arise, and, after a time, the elements of a party opposed to the princess began to be developed. these consisted chiefly of the old nobles of the empire, the heads of the great families who had been accustomed, under the emperors, to wield the chief power of the state. these persons were naturally jealous of the ascendency which they saw that the princess was acquiring, and they began to plot together in order to devise means for restricting or controlling it. but, besides these nobles, there was another very important power at the imperial court at this time, namely, the army. in all despotic governments, it is necessary for the sovereign to have a powerful military force under his command, to maintain him in his place; and it is necessary for him to keep this force as separate and independent as possible from the people. there was in russia at this time a very powerful body of troops, which had been organized by the emperors, and was maintained by them as an imperial guard. the name of this body of troops was the strelitz; but, in order not to encumber the narrative unnecessarily with foreign words, i shall call them simply the guards. of course, a body of troops like these, organized and maintained by a despotic dynasty for the express purpose, in a great measure, of defending the sovereign against his subjects, becomes in time a very important element of power in the state. the officers form a class by themselves, separate from, and jealous of the nobles of the country; and this state of things has often led to very serious collisions and outbreaks. the guards have sometimes proved too strong for the dynasty that created them, and have made their own generals the real monarchs of the country. when such a state of things as this exists, the government which results is called a military despotism. this happened in the days of the roman empire. the army, which was originally formed by the regular authorities of the country, and kept for a time in strict subjection to them, finally became too powerful to be held any longer under control, and they made their own leading general emperor for many successive reigns, thus wholly subverting the republic which originally organized and maintained them. it was such a military body as this which now possessed great influence and power at moscow. the princess sophia, knowing how important it would be to her to secure the influence of such a power upon her side, paid great attention to the officers, and omitted nothing in her power which was calculated to increase her popularity with the whole corps. the result was that the guards became her friends, while a great many of the old nobles were suspicious and jealous of her, and were beginning to devise means to curtail her increasing influence. but, notwithstanding all that they could do, the influence of sophia increased continually, until the course of public affairs came to be, in fact, almost entirely under her direction. the chief minister of state was a certain prince galitzin, who was almost wholly devoted to her interests. indeed, it was through her influence that he was appointed to his office. things continued in this state for about six years, and then, at length, theodore was taken suddenly sick. it soon became evident that he could not live. on his dying bed he designated peter as his successor, passing over his brother john. the reason for this was that john was so extremely feeble and infirm that he seemed to be wholly unfit to reign over such an empire. besides various other maladies under which he suffered, he was afflicted with epilepsy, a disease which rendered it wholly unsuitable that he should assume any burdens whatever of responsibility and care. it is probable that it was through the influence of some of the nobles who were opposed to sophia that theodore was induced thus to designate peter as his successor. however this may be, peter, though then only ten years old, was proclaimed emperor by the nobles immediately after theodore's death. sophia was much disappointed, and became greatly indignant at these proceedings. john was her own brother, while peter, being a son of the second wife, was only her half-brother. john, too, on account of his feeble health, would probably never be able to take any charge of the government, and she thought that, if he had been allowed to succeed theodore, she herself might have retained the real power in her hands, as regent, as long as she lived; whereas peter promised to have strength and vigor to govern the empire himself in a few years, and, in the mean time, while he remained in his minority, it was natural to expect that he would be under the influence of persons connected with his own branch of the family, who would be hostile to her, and that thus her empire would come to an end. so she determined to resist the transfer of the supreme power to peter. she secretly engaged the guards on her side. the commander-in-chief of the guards was an officer named couvansky. he readily acceded to her proposals, and, in conjunction with him, she planned and organized a revolution. in order to exasperate the people and the guards, and excite them to the proper pitch of violence, sophia and couvansky spread a report that the late emperor had not died a natural death, but had been poisoned. this murder had been committed, they said, by a party who hoped, by setting theodore and his brother john aside, to get the power into their hands in the name of peter, whom they intended to make emperor, in violation of the rights of john, theodore's true heir. there was a plan also formed, they said, to poison all the principal officers of the guards, who, the conspirators knew, would oppose their wicked proceedings, and perhaps prevent the fulfillment of them if they were not put out of the way. the poison by which theodore had been put to death was administered, they said, by two physicians who attended upon him in his sickness, and who had been bribed to give him poison with his medicine. the guards were to have been destroyed by means of poison, which was to have been mixed with the brandy and the beer that was distributed to them on the occasion of the funeral. these stories produced a great excitement among the guards, and also among a considerable portion of the people of moscow. the guards came out into the streets and around the palaces in great force. they first seized the two physicians who were accused of having poisoned the emperor, and killed them on the spot. then they took a number of nobles of high rank, and officers of state, who were supposed to be the leaders of the party in favor of peter, and the instigators of the murder of theodore, and, dragging them out into the public squares, slew them without mercy. some they cut to pieces. others they threw down from the wall of the imperial palace upon the soldiers' pikes below, which the men held up for the purpose of receiving them. peter was at this time with his mother in the palace. natalia was exceedingly alarmed, not for herself, but for her son. as soon as the revolution broke out she made her escape from the palace, and set out with peter in her arms to fly to a celebrated family retreat of the emperor's, called the monastery of the trinity. this monastery was a sort of country palace of the czar's, which, besides being a pleasant rural retreat, was also, from its religious character, a sanctuary where fugitives seeking refuge in it might, under all ordinary circumstances, feel themselves beyond the reach of violence and of every species of hostile molestation. natalia fled with peter and a few attendants to this refuge, hotly pursued, however, all the way by a body of the guards. if the fugitives had been overtaken on the way, both mother and son would doubtless have been cut to pieces without mercy. as it was, they very narrowly escaped, for when natalia arrived at the convent the soldiers were close upon her. two of them followed her in before the doors could be closed. natalia rushed into the church, which formed the centre of the convent inclosure, and took refuge with her child at the foot of the altar. the soldiers pursued her there, brandishing their swords, and were apparently on the point of striking the fatal blow; but the sacredness of the place seemed to arrest them at the last moment, and, after pausing an instant with their uplifted swords in their hands, and uttering imprecations against their victims for having thus escaped them, they sullenly retired. in the mean time the commotion in the city went on, and for several days no one could foresee how it would end. at length a sort of compromise was effected, and it was agreed by the two parties that john should be proclaimed czar, not alone, but in conjunction with his brother peter, the regency to remain for the present, as it had been, in the hands of sophia. thus sophia really gained all her ends; for the retaining of peter's name, as nominally czar in conjunction with his brother, was of no consequence, since her party had proved itself the strongest in the struggle, and all the real power remained in her hands. she had obtained this triumph mainly through couvansky and the guards; and now, having accomplished her purposes by means of their military violence, she wished, of course, that they should retire to their quarters, and resume their habits of subordination, and of submission to the civil authority. but this they would not do. couvansky, having found how important a personage he might become through the agency of the terrible organization which was under his direction and control, was not disposed at once to lay aside his power; and the soldiers, intoxicated with the delights of riot and pillage, could not now be easily restrained. sophia found, as a great many other despotic rulers have done in similar cases, that she had evoked a power which she could not now control. couvansky and the troops under his command continued their ravages in the city, plundering the rich houses of every thing that could gratify their appetites and passions, and murdering all whom they imagined to belong to the party opposed to them. sophia first tried to appease them and reduce them to order by conciliatory measures. from the monastery of the trinity, to which she had herself now retreated for safety, she sent a message to couvansky and to the other chiefs of the army, thanking them for the zeal which they had shown in revenging the death of her brother, the late emperor, and in vindicating the rights of the true successor, john, and promising to remember, and in due time to reward, the great services which they had rendered to the state. she added that, now, since the end which they all had in view in the movement which they had made had been entirely and happily accomplished, the soldiers should be restrained from any farther violence, and recalled to their quarters. this message had no effect. indeed, couvansky, finding how great the power was of the corps which he commanded, began to conceive the idea that he might raise himself to the supreme command. he thought that the guards were all devoted to him, and would do whatever he required of them. he held secret conferences with the principal officers under his command, and endeavored to prepare their minds for the revolution which he contemplated by representing to them that neither of the princes who had been proclaimed were fit to reign. john, he said, was almost an imbecile, on account of the numerous and hopeless bodily infirmities to which he was subject. peter was yet a mere boy; and then, besides, even when he should become a man, he would very likely be subject to the same diseases with his brother. these men would never have either the intelligence to appreciate or the power to reward such services as the guards were capable of rendering to the state; whereas he, their commander, and one of their own body, would be both able and disposed to do them ample justice. couvansky also conceived the design of securing and perpetuating the power which he hoped thus to acquire through the army by a marriage of his son with one of the princesses of the imperial family. he selected catharine, who was sophia's sister--the one next in age to her--for the intended bride. he cautiously proposed this plan to sophia, hoping that she might be induced to approve and favor it, in which case he thought that every obstacle would be removed from his way, and the ends of his ambition would be easily and permanently attained. but sophia was perfectly indignant at such a proposal. it seemed to her the height of presumption and audacity for a mere general in the army to aspire to a connection by marriage with the imperial family, and to a transfer, in consequence, of the supreme power to himself and to his descendants forever. she resolved immediately to adopt vigorous measures to defeat these schemes in the most effectual manner. she determined to kill couvansky. but, as the force which he commanded was so great that she could not hope to accomplish any thing by an open contest, she concluded to resort to stratagem. she accordingly pretended to favor couvansky's plans, and seemed to be revolving in her mind the means of carrying them into effect. among other things, she soon announced a grand celebration of the princess catharine's fête-day, to be held at the monastery of the trinity, and invited couvansky to attend it.[ ] couvansky joyfully accepted this invitation, supposing that the occasion would afford him an admirable opportunity to advance his views in respect to his son. so couvansky, accompanied by his son, set out on the appointed day from moscow to proceed to the monastery. not suspecting any treachery, he was accompanied by only a small escort. on the road he was waylaid by a body of two hundred horsemen, whom galitzin, sophia's minister of state, had sent to the spot. couvansky's guard was at once overpowered, and both he and his son were taken prisoners. they were hurried at once to a house, where preparations for receiving them had already been made, and there, without any delay, sentence of death against them both, on a charge of treason, was read to them, and their heads were cut off on the spot. the news of this execution spread with great rapidity, and it produced, of course, an intense excitement and commotion among all the guards as fast as it became known to them. they threatened vengeance against the government for having thus assassinated, as they expressed it, their chief and father. they soon put themselves in motion, and began murdering, plundering, and destroying more furiously than ever. the violence which they displayed led to a reaction. a party was formed, even among the guards, of persons that were disposed to discountenance these excesses, and even to submit to the government. the minister galitzin took advantage of these dissensions to open a communication with those who were disposed to return to their duty. he managed the affair so well that, in the end, the great body of the soldiers were brought over, and, finally, they themselves, of their own accord, slew the officers who had been most active in the revolt, and offered their heads to the minister in token of their submission. they also implored pardon of the government for the violence and excess into which they had been led. of course, this pardon was readily granted. the places of couvansky and of the other officers who had been slain were filled by new appointments, who were in the interest of the princess sophia, and the whole corps returned to their duty. order was now soon fully restored in moscow, rendering it safe for sophia and her court to leave the monastery and return to the royal palace in the town. galitzin was promoted to a higher office, and invested with more extended powers than he had yet held, and sophia found herself finally established as the real sovereign of the country, though, of course, she reigned, in the name of her brothers. [ ] the russian form of these names is foedor [transcriber's note: feodor?] and ivan. [ ] these celebrations were somewhat similar to the birthday celebrations of england and america, only the day on which they were held was not the birth-day of the lady, but the fête-day, as it was called, of her patron saint--that is, of the saint whose name she bore. all the names for girls used in those countries where the greek or the catholic church prevails are names of saints, each one of whom has in the calendar a certain day set apart as her fête-day. each girl considers the saint from whom she is named as her patron saint, and the fête-day of this saint, instead of her own birth-day, is the anniversary which is celebrated in honor of her. chapter ii. the princess's downfall. - sophia at the height of her power--military expeditions--the cham of tartary--mazeppa--origin and history--his famous punishment--subsequent history--the war unsuccessful--sophia's artful policy--rewards and honors to the army--the opposition--their plans--reasons for the proposed marriage--the intended wife--motives of politicians--results of peter's marriage--peter's country house--return of galitzin--the princess's alarm--the cossacks--sophia's plot--the commander of the guards--prince galitzin--details of the plot--manner in which the plot was discovered--messengers dispatched--the sentinels--the detachment arrives--peter's place of refuge--sophia's pretenses--the guards--sophia attempts to secure them--they adhere to the cause of peter--sophia's alarm--her first deputation--failure of the deputation--sophia appeals to the patriarch--his mission fails--sophia's despair--her final plans--she is repulsed from the monastery--the surrender of thekelavitaw demanded--he is brought to trial--he is put to the torture--his confessions--value of them--modes of torture applied--various punishments inflicted--galitzin is banished--his son shares his fate--punishment of thekelavitaw--decision in respect to sophia--peter's public entry into moscow--he gains sole power--character and condition of john--subsequent history of sophia the princess sophia was now in full possession of power, so that she reigned supreme in the palaces and in the capital, while, of course, the ordinary administration of the affairs of state, and the relations of the empire with foreign nations, were left to galitzin and the other ministers. it was in that she secured possession of this power, and in her regency came to an end, so that she was, in fact, the ruler of the russian empire for a period of about five years. during this time one or two important military expeditions were set on foot by her government. the principal was a campaign in the southern part of the empire for the conquest of the crimea, which country, previous to that time, had belonged to the turks. poland was at that period a very powerful kingdom, and the poles, having become involved in a war with the turks, proposed to the russians, or muscovites, as they were then generally called, to join them in an attempt to conquer the crimea. the tartars who inhabited the crimea and the country to the northeastward of it were on the side of the turks, so that the russians had two enemies to contend with. the supreme ruler of the tartars was a chieftain called a cham. he was a potentate of great power and dignity, superior, indeed, to the czars who ruled in muscovy. in fact, there had been an ancient treaty by which this superiority of the cham was recognized and acknowledged in a singular way--one which illustrates curiously the ideas and manners of those times. the treaty stipulated, among other things, that whenever the czar and the cham should chance to meet, the czar should hold the cham's stirrup while he mounted his horse, and also feed the horse with oats out of his cap. in the war between the muscovites and the tartars for the possession of the crimea, a certain personage appeared, who has since been made very famous by the poetry of byron. it was mazeppa, the unfortunate chieftain whose frightful ride through the tangled thickets of an uncultivated country, bound naked to a wild horse, was described with so much graphic power by the poet, and has been so often represented in paintings and engravings. mazeppa was a polish gentleman. he was brought up as a page in the family of the king of poland. when he became a man he mortally offended a certain polish nobleman by some improprieties in which he became involved with the nobleman's wife. the husband caused him to be seized and cruelly scourged, and then to be bound upon the back of a wild, ungovernable horse. when all was ready the horse was turned loose upon the ukrain, and, terrified with the extraordinary burden which he felt upon his back, and uncontrolled by bit or rein, he rushed madly on through the wildest recesses of the forest, until at length he fell down exhausted with terror and fatigue. some cossack peasants found and rescued mazeppa, and took care of him in one of their huts until he recovered from his wounds. mazeppa was a well-educated man, and highly accomplished in the arts of war as they were practiced in those days. he soon acquired great popularity among the cossacks, and, in the end, rose to be a chieftain among them, and he distinguished himself greatly in these very campaigns in the crimea, fought by the muscovites against the turks and tartars during the regency of the princess sophia. if the war thus waged by the government of the empress had been successful, it would have greatly strengthened the position of her party in moscow, and increased her own power; but it was not successful. prince galitzin, who had the chief command of the expedition, was obliged, after all, to withdraw his troops from the country, and make a very unsatisfactory peace; but he did not dare to allow the true result of the expedition to be known in moscow, for fear of the dissatisfaction which, he felt convinced, would be occasioned there by such intelligence; and the distance was so great, and the means of communication in those days were so few, that it was comparatively easy to falsify the accounts. so, after he had made peace with the tartars, and began to draw off his army, he sent couriers to moscow to the czars, and also to the king in poland, with news of great victories which he had obtained against the tartars, of conquests which he made in their territories, and of his finally having compelled them to make peace on terms extremely favorable. the princess sophia, as soon as this news reached her in moscow, ordered that arrangements should be made for great public rejoicings throughout the empire on account of the victories which had been obtained. according to the custom, too, of the muscovite government, in cases where great victories had been won, the council drew up a formal letter of thanks and commendations to the officers and soldiers of the army, and sent it to them by a special messenger, with promotions and other honors for the chiefs, and rewards in money for the men. the princess and her government hoped, by these means, to conceal the bad success of their enterprise, and to gain, instead of losing, credit and strength with the people. but during all this time a party opposed to sophia and her plans had been gradually forming, and it was now increasing in numbers and influence every day. the men of this party naturally gathered around peter, intending to make him their leader. peter had now grown up to be a young man. in the next chapter we shall give some account of the manner in which his childhood and early youth were spent; but he was now about eighteen years old, and the party who adhered to him formed the plan of marrying him. so they proceeded to choose him a wife. the reasons which led them to advocate this measure were, of course, altogether political. they thought that if peter were to be married, and to have children, all the world would see that the crown must necessarily descend in his family, since john had no children, and he was so sickly and feeble that it was not probable that even he himself would long survive. they knew very well, therefore, that the marriage of peter and the birth of an heir would turn all men's thoughts to him as the real personage whose favor it behooved them to cultivate; and this, they supposed, would greatly increase his importance, and so add to the strength of the party that acted in his name. it turned out just as they had anticipated. the wife whom the councilors chose for peter was a young lady of noble birth, the daughter of one of the great boiars, as they were called, of the empire. her name was ottokessa federowna. the princess sophia did all in her power to prevent the match, but her efforts were of no avail. peter was married, and the event greatly increased his importance among the nobles and among the people, and augmented the power and influence of his party. in all cases of this kind, where a contest is going on between rival claimants to a throne, or rival dynasties, there are some persons, though not many, who are governed in their conduct, in respect to the side which they take, by principles of honor and duty, and of faithful adherence to what they suppose to be the right. but a vast majority of courtiers and politicians in all countries and in all ages are only anxious to find out, not which side is right, but which is likely to be successful. accordingly, in this case, as the marriage of peter made it still more probable than it was before that he would in the end secure to his branch of the family the supreme power, it greatly increased the tendency among the nobles to pay their court to him and to his friends. this tendency was still more strengthened by the expectation which soon after arose, that peter's wife was about to give birth to a son. the probability of the appearance of a son and heir on peter's side, taken in connection with the hopeless childlessness of john, seemed to turn the scales entirely in favor of peter's party. this was especially the case in respect to all the young nobles as they successively arrived at an age to take an interest in public affairs. all these young men seemed to despise the imbecility, and the dark and uncertain prospects of john, and to be greatly charmed with the talents and energy of peter, and with the brilliant future which seemed to be opening before him. thus even the nobles who still adhered to the cause of sophia and of john had the mortification to find that their sons, as fast as they came of age, all went over to the other side. peter lived at this time with his young wife at a certain country palace belonging to him, situated on the banks of a small river a few miles from moscow. the name of this country-seat was obrogensko. such was the state of things at moscow when prince galitzin returned from his campaigns in the crimea. the prince found that the power of sophia and her party was rapidly waning, and that sophia herself was in a state of great anxiety and excitement in respect to the future. the princess gave galitzin a very splendid reception, and publicly rewarded him for his pretended success in the war by bestowing upon him great and extraordinary honors. still many people were very suspicious of the truth of the accounts which were circulated. the partisans of peter called for proofs that the victories had really been won. prince galitzin brought with him to the capital a considerable force of cossacks, with mazeppa at their head. the cossacks had never before been allowed to come into moscow; but now, sophia having formed a desperate plan to save herself from the dangers that surrounded her, and knowing that these men would unscrupulously execute any commands that were given to them by their leaders, directed galitzin to bring them within the walls, under pretense to do honor to mazeppa for the important services which he had rendered during the war. but this measure was very unpopular with the people, and, although the cossacks were actually brought within the walls, they were subjected to such restrictions there that, after all, sophia could not employ them for the purpose of executing her plot, but was obliged to rely on the regular muscovite troops of the imperial guard. the plot which she formed was nothing else than the assassination of peter. she saw no other way by which she could save herself from the dangers which surrounded her, and make sure of retaining her power. her brother, the czar john, was growing weaker and more insignificant every day; while peter and his party, who looked upon her, she knew, with very unfriendly feelings, were growing stronger and stronger. if peter continued to live, her speedy downfall, she was convinced, was sure. she accordingly determined that peter should die. the commander-in-chief of the guards at this time was a man named theodore thekelavitaw. he had been raised to this exalted post by sophia herself on the death of couvansky. she had selected him for this office with special reference to his subserviency to her interests. she determined now, accordingly, to confide to him the execution of her scheme for the assassination of peter. when sophia proposed her plan to prince galitzin, he was at first strongly opposed to it, on account of the desperate danger which would attend such an undertaking. but she urged upon him so earnestly the necessity of the case, representing to him that unless some very decisive measures were adopted, not only would she herself soon be deposed from power, but that he and all his family and friends would be involved in the same common ruin, he at length reluctantly consented. the plan was at last fully matured. thekelavitaw, the commander of the guards, selected six hundred men to go with him to obrogensko. they were to go in the night, the plan being to seize peter in his bed. when the appointed night arrived, the commander marshaled his men and gave them their instructions, and the whole body set out upon their march to obrogensko with every prospect of successfully accomplishing the undertaking. but the whole plan was defeated in a very remarkable manner. while the commander was giving his instructions to the men, two of the soldiers, shocked with the idea of being made the instruments of such a crime, stole away unobserved in the darkness, and ran with all possible speed to obrogensko to warn peter of his danger. peter leaped from his bed in consternation, and immediately sent to the apartments where his uncles, the brothers of his mother, were lodging, to summon them to come to him. when they came, a hurried consultation was held. there was some doubt in the minds of peter's uncles whether the story which the soldiers told was to be believed. they thought it could not possibly be true that so atrocious a crime could be contemplated by sophia. accordingly, before taking any measures for sending peter and his family away, they determined to send messengers toward the city to ascertain whether any detachment of guards was really coming toward obrogensko. these messengers set off at once; but, before they had reached half way to moscow, they met thekelavitaw's detachment of guards, with thekelavitaw himself at the head of them, stealing furtively along the road. the messengers hid themselves by the wayside until the troop had gone by. then hurrying away round by a circuitous path, they got before the troop again, and reached the palace before the assassins arrived. peter had just time to get into a coach, with his wife, his sister, and one or two other members of his family, and to drive away from the palace before thekelavitaw, with his band, arrived. the sentinels who were on duty at the gates of the palace had been much surprised at the sudden departure of peter and his family, and now they were astonished beyond measure at the sudden appearance of so large a body of their comrades arriving at midnight, without any warning, from the barracks in moscow. [illustration: the escape.] immediately on his arrival at the palace, thekelavitaw's men searched every where for peter, but of course could not find him. they then questioned the sentinels, and were told that peter had left the palace with his family in a very hurried manner but a very short time before. no one knew where they had gone. there was, of course, nothing now for thekelavitaw to do but to return, discomfited and alarmed, to the princess sophia, and report the failure of their scheme. in the mean time peter had fled to the monastery of the trinity, the common refuge of the family in all cases of desperate danger. the news of the affair spread rapidly, and produced universal excitement. peter, from his retreat in the monastery, sent a message to sophia, charging her with having sent thekelavitaw and his band to take his life. sophia was greatly alarmed at the turn which things had taken. she, however, strenuously denied being guilty of the charge which peter made against her. she said that the soldiers under thekelavitaw had only gone out to obrogensko for the purpose of relieving the guard. this nobody believed. the idea of taking such a body of men a league or more into the country at midnight for the purpose of relieving the guard of a country palace was preposterous. the excitement increased. the leading nobles of the country began to flock to the monastery to declare their adhesion to peter, and their determination to sustain and protect him. sophia, at the same time, did all that she could do to rally her friends. both sides endeavored to gain the good-will of the guards. the princess caused them to be assembled before her palace in moscow, and there she appeared on a balcony before them, accompanied by the czar john; and the czar made them a speech--one, doubtless, which sophia had prepared for him. in this speech john stated to the guards that his brother peter had retired to the monastery of the trinity, though for what reason he knew not. he had, however, too much reason to fear, he said, that he was plotting some schemes against the state. "we have heard," he added, "that he has summoned you to repair thither and attend him, but we forbid your going on pain of death." sophia then herself addressed the guards, confirming what john had said, and endeavoring artfully to awaken an interest in their minds in her favor. the guards listened in silence; but it seems that very little effect was produced upon them by these harangues, for they immediately afterward marched in a body to the monastery, and there publicly assured peter of their adhesion to his cause. sophia was now greatly alarmed. she began to fear that all was lost. she determined to send an embassage to peter to deprecate his displeasure, and, if possible, effect a reconciliation. she employed on this commission two of her aunts, her father's sisters, who were, of course, the aunts likewise of peter, and the nearest family relatives, who were equally the relatives of herself and of him. these ladies were, of course, princesses of very high rank, and their age and family connection were such as to lead sophia to trust a great deal to their intercession. she charged these ladies to assure peter that she was entirely innocent of the crime of which she was suspected, and that the stories of her having sent the soldiers to his palace with any evil design were fabricated by her enemies, who wished to sow dissension between herself and him. she assured him that there had been no necessity at all for his flight, and that he might now at any time return to moscow with perfect safety. peter received his aunts in a very respectful manner, and listened attentively to what they had to say; but, after they had concluded their address to him, he assured them that his retreat to the monastery was not without good cause: and he proceeded to state and explain all the circumstances of the case, and to show so many and such conclusive proofs that a conspiracy to destroy him had actually been formed, and was on the eve of being executed, that the princesses could no longer doubt that sophia was really guilty. they were overwhelmed with grief in coming to this conviction, and they declared, with tears in their eyes, that they would not return to moscow, but would remain at the monastery and share the fortunes of their nephew. when sophia learned what had been the result of her deputation she was more alarmed than ever. after spending some time in perplexity and distress, she determined to apply to the patriarch, who was the head of the church, and, of course, the highest ecclesiastical dignitary in the empire. she begged and implored him to act as mediator between her and her brother, and he was at length so moved by her tears and entreaties that he consented to go. this embassage was no more successful than the other. peter, it seems, was provided with proof, which he offered to the patriarch, not only of the reality of the conspiracy which had been formed, but also of the fact that, if it had been successful, the patriarch himself was to have been taken off, in order that another ecclesiastic more devoted to sophia's interests might be put in his place. the patriarch was astonished and shocked at this intelligence, and was so much alarmed by it that he did not dare to return to sophia to make his report, and decided, as the ladies had done before him, to take up his abode with peter in the monastery until the crisis should be passed. the princess was now almost in a state of despair. prince galitzin, it is true, still remained with her, and there were some others in the palace who adhered to her cause. she called these few remaining friends together, and with them held a sorrowful and anxious consultation, in order to determine what should now be done. it was resolved that thekelavitaw and one or two others who were deeply implicated in the plot for the assassination of peter should be secured in a place of close concealment in the palace, and then, that the princess herself, accompanied by galitzin and her other leading friends, should proceed in a body to the monastery of the trinity, and there make a personal appeal to peter, in hopes of appeasing him, and saving themselves, if possible, from their impending fate. this plan they proceeded to carry into effect; but before sophia, and those who were with her, had reached half way to the palace, they were met by a nobleman who had been sent from the monastery to intercept them, and order them, in peter's name, to return to moscow. if the princess were to go on, she would not be received at the monastery, the messenger said, but would find the gates closed against her. so sophia and her train turned, and despairingly retraced their steps to moscow. the next day an officer, at the head of a body of the guards three hundred in number, was dispatched from the monastery to demand of the princess sophia, at her palace, that she should give up thekelavitaw, in order that he might be brought to trial on a charge of treason. sophia was extremely unwilling to comply with this demand. she may naturally be supposed to have desired to save her instrument and agent from suffering the penalties of the crime which she herself had planned and had instigated him to attempt; but the chief source of her extreme reluctance to surrender the prisoner was her fear of the revelations which he would be likely to make implicating her. after hesitating for a time, being in a state during the interval of great mental distress and anguish, she concluded that she must obey, and so thekelavitaw was brought out from his retreat and surrendered. the soldiers immediately took him and some other persons who were surrendered with him, and, securing them safely with irons, they conveyed them rapidly to the monastery. thekelavitaw was brought to trial in the great hall of the monastery, where a court, consisting of the leading nobles, was organized to hear his cause. he was questioned closely by his judges for a long time, but his answers were evasive and unsatisfactory, and at length it was determined to put him to torture, in order to compel him to confess his crime, and to reveal the names of his confederates. this was a very unjust and cruel mode of procedure, but it was in accordance with the rude ideas which prevailed in those times. the torture which was applied to thekelavitaw was scourging with a knout. the knout was a large and strong whip, the lash of which consists of a tough, thick thong of leather, prepared in a particular way, so as greatly to increase the intensity of the agony caused by the blows inflicted with it. thekelavitaw endured a few strokes from this dreadful instrument, and then declared that he was ready to confess all; so they took him back to prison and there heard what he had to say. he made a full statement in respect to the plot. he said that the design was to kill peter himself, his mother, and several other persons, near connections of peter's branch of the family. the princess sophia was the originator of the plot, he said, and he specified many other persons who had taken a leading part in it. these statements of the unhappy sufferer may have been true or they may have been false. it is now well known that no reliance whatever can be placed upon testimony that is extorted in this way, as men under such circumstances will say any thing which they think will be received by their tormentors, and be the means of bringing their sufferings to an end. however it may have been in fact in this case, the testimony of thekelavitaw was believed. on the faith of it many more arrests were made, and many other persons were put to the torture to compel them to reveal additional particulars of the plot. it is said that one of the modes of torment of the sufferers in these trials consisted in first shaving the head and tying it in a fixed position, and then causing boiling water to be poured, drop by drop, upon it, which in a very short time produced, it is said, an exquisite and dreadful agony which no mortal heroism could long endure. after all these extorted confessions had been received, and the persons accused by the wretched witnesses had been secured, the court was employed two days in determining the relative guilt of the different criminals, and in deciding upon the punishments. some of the prisoners were beheaded; others were sentenced to perpetual imprisonment; others were banished. the punishment of prince galitzin was banishment for life to siberia. he was brought before the court to hear his sentence pronounced by the judges in form. it was to this effect, namely, "that he was ordered to go to karga, a town under the pole, there to remain, as long as he lived, in disgrace with his majesty, who had, nevertheless, of his great goodness, allowed him threepence a day for his subsistence; but that his justice had ordained all his goods to be forfeited to his treasury." galitzin had a son who seems to have been implicated in some way with his father in the conspiracy. at any rate, he was sentenced to share his father's fate. whether the companionship of his son on the long and gloomy journey was a comfort to the prince, or whether it only redoubled the bitterness of his calamity to see his son compelled to endure it too, it would be difficult to say. the female members of the family were sent with them too. as soon as the prince had been sent away, officers were dispatched to take possession of his palace, and to make an inventory of the property contained in it. the officers found a vast amount of treasure. among other things, they discovered a strong box buried in a vault, which contained an immense sum of money. there were four hundred vessels of silver of great weight, and many other rich and costly articles. all these things were confiscated, and the proceeds put into the imperial treasury. thekelavitaw, the commander-in-chief of the guards, had his head cut off. the subordinate officer who had the immediate command of the detachment which marched out to obrogensko was punished by being first scourged with the knout, then having his tongue cut out, and then being sent to siberia in perpetual banishment, with an allowance for his subsistence of one third the pittance which had been granted to galitzin. some of the private soldiers of the detachment were also sentenced to have their tongues cut out, and then to be sent to siberia to earn their living there by hunting sables. peter was not willing that the princess sophia, being his sister, should be publicly punished or openly disgraced in any way, so it was decreed that she should retire to a certain convent, situated in a solitary place a little way out of town, where she could be closely watched and guarded. sophia was extremely unwilling to obey this decree, and she would not go to the convent of her own accord. the commander of the guards was thereupon directed to send a body of armed men to convey her there, with orders to take her by force if she would not go willingly; so sophia was compelled to submit, and, when she was lodged in the convent, soldiers were placed not only to keep sentinel at the doors, but also to guard all the avenues leading to the place, so as effectually to cut the poor prisoner off from all possible communication with any who might be disposed to sympathize with her or aid her. she remained in this condition, a close prisoner, for many years. two days after this--every thing connected with the conspiracy having been settled--it was determined that peter should return to moscow. he made a grand triumphant entry into the city, attended by an armed escort of eighteen thousand of the guards. peter himself rode conspicuously at the head of the troops on horseback. his wife and his mother followed in a coach. on arriving at the royal palace, he was met on the staircase by his brother john, who was not supposed to have taken any part in sophia's conspiracy. peter greeted his brother kindly, and said he hoped that they were friends. john replied in the same spirit, and so the two brothers were reinstated again as joint possessors, nominally, of the supreme power, but, now that sophia was removed out of the way, and all her leading friends and partisans were either beheaded or banished, the whole control of the government fell, in fact, into the hands of peter and of his counselors and friends. john, his brother czar, was too feeble and inefficient to take any part whatever in the management of public affairs. he was melancholy and dejected in spirit, in consequence of his infirmities and sufferings, and he spent most of his time in acts of devotion, according to the rites and usages of the established church of the country, as the best means within his knowledge of preparing himself for another and happier world. he died about seven years after this time. the princess sophia lived for fifteen years a prisoner. during this period several efforts were made by those who still adhered to her cause to effect her release and her restoration to power, but they were all unsuccessful. she remained in close confinement as long as she lived. chapter iii. the childhood and youth of peter. - troublous times in the family--peter's first governor--his qualifications--peter's earliest studies--his disposition and character--sophia's jealousy of him--her plans for corrupting his morals--the governor is dismissed--new system adopted--sophia's expectations--peter's fifty playmates--the plot does not succeed--peter organizes a military school--peter a practical mechanic--his ideas and intentions--his drumming--his wheelbarrow--progress of the school--results of peter's energy of character we must now go back a little in our narrative, in order to give some account of the manner in which the childhood and early youth of peter were spent, and of the indications which appeared in this early period of his life to mark his character. he was only eighteen years of age at the time of his marriage, and, of course, all those contests and dissensions which, for so many years after his father alexis's death, continued to distract the family, took place while he was very young. he was only about nine years old when they began, at the time of the death of his father. the person whom peter's father selected to take charge of his little son's education, in the first instance, was a very accomplished general named menesius. general menesius was a scotchman by birth, and he had been well educated in the literary seminaries of his native country, so that, besides his knowledge and skill in every thing which pertained to the art of war, he was well versed in all the european languages, and, having traveled extensively in the different countries of europe, he was qualified to instruct peter, when he should become old enough to take an interest in such inquiries, in the arts and sciences of western europe, and in the character of the civilization of the various countries, and the different degrees of progress which they had respectively made. at the time, however, when peter was put under his governor's charge he was only about five years old, and, consequently, none but the most elementary studies were at that time suited to his years. of course, it was not the duty of general menesius to attend personally to the instruction of his little pupil in these things, but only to see to it that the proper teachers were appointed, and that they attended to their duties in a faithful manner. every thing went on prosperously and well under this arrangement as long as the czar alexis, peter's father, continued to live. general menesius resided in the palace with his charge, and he gradually began to form a strong attachment to him. indeed, peter was so full of life and spirit, and evinced so much intelligence in all that he did and said, and learned what was proper to be taught him at that age with so much readiness and facility, that he was a favorite with all who knew him; that is, with all who belonged to or were connected with his mother's branch of the family. with those who were connected with the children of alexis' first wife he was an object of continual jealousy and suspicion, and the greater the proofs that he gave of talent and capacity, the more jealous of him these his natural rivals became. at length, when alexis, his father, died, and his half-brother theodore succeeded to the throne, the division between the two branches of the family became more decided than ever; and when sophia obtained her release from the convent, and managed to get the control of public affairs, in consequence of theodore's imbecility, as related in the first chapter, one of the first sources of uneasiness for her, in respect to the continuance of her power, was the probability that peter would grow up to be a talented and energetic young man, and would sooner or later take the government into his own hands. she revolved in her mind many plans for preventing this. the one which seemed to her most feasible at first was to attempt to spoil the boy by indulgence and luxury. she accordingly, it is said, attempted to induce menesius to alter the arrangements which he had made for peter, so as to release him from restraint, and allow him to do as he pleased. her plan was also to supply him with means of pleasure and indulgence very freely, thinking that a boy of his age would not have the good sense or the resolution to resist these temptations. thus she thought that his progress in study would be effectually impeded, and that, perhaps, he would undermine his health and destroy his constitution by eating and drinking, or by other hurtful indulgences. but sophia found that she could not induce general menesius to co-operate with her in any such plans. he had set his heart on making his pupil a virtuous and an accomplished man, and he knew very well that the system of laxity and indulgence which sophia recommended would end in his ruin. after a considerable contest, sophia, finding that menesius was inflexible, manoeuvred to cause him to be dismissed from his office, and to have another arrangement made for the boy, by which she thought her ends would be attained. so menesius bade his young charge farewell, not, however, without giving him, in parting, most urgent counsels to persevere, as he had begun, in the faithful performance of his duty, to resist every temptation to idleness or excess, and to devote himself, while young, with patience, perseverance, and industry to the work of storing his mind with useful knowledge, and of acquiring every possible art and accomplishment which could be of advantage to him when he became a man. after general menesius had been dismissed, sophia adopted an entirely new system for the management of peter. before this time theodore had died, and peter, in conjunction with john, had been proclaimed emperor, sophia governing as regent in their names. the princess now made an arrangement for establishing peter in a household of his own, at a palace situated in a small village at some distance from moscow, and she appointed fifty boys to live with him as his playmates and amusers. these boys were provided with every possible means of indulgence, and were subject to very little restraint. the intention of sophia was that they should do just as they pleased, and she had no doubt that they would spend their time in such a manner that they would all grow up idle, vicious, and good for nothing. there was even some hope that peter would impair his health to such an extent by excessive indulgences as to bring him to an early grave. indeed, the plot was so well contrived that there are probably not many boys who would not, under such circumstances, have fallen into the snare so adroitly laid for them and been ruined; but peter escaped it. whether it was from the influence of the counsels and instructions of his former governor, or from his own native good sense, or from both combined, he resisted the temptations that were laid before him, and, instead of giving up his studies, and spending his time in indolence and vice, he improved such privileges as he enjoyed to the best of his ability. he even contrived to turn the hours of play, and the companions who had been given to him as mere instruments of pleasure, into means of improvement. he caused the boys to be organized into a sort of military school, and learned with them all the evolutions, and practiced all the discipline necessary in a camp. he himself began at the very beginning. he caused himself to be taught to drum, not merely as most boys do, just to make a noise for his amusement, but regularly and scientifically, so as to enable him to understand and execute all the beats and signals used in camp and on the field of battle. he studied fortification, and set the boys at work, himself among them, in constructing a battery in a regular and scientific manner. he learned the use of tools, too, practically, in a shop which had been provided for the boys as a place for play; and the wheelbarrow with which he worked in making the fortification was one which he had constructed with his own hands. he did not assume any superiority over his companions in these exercises, but took his place among them as an equal, obeying the commands which were given to him, when it came to his turn to serve, and taking his full share of all the hardest of the work which was to be done. nor was this all mere boys' play, pursued for a little time as long as the novelty lasted, and then thrown aside for something more amusing. peter knew that when he became a man he would be emperor of all russia. he knew that among the populations of that immense country there were a great many wild and turbulent tribes, half savage in habits and character, that would never be controlled but by military force, and that the country, too, was surrounded by other nations that would sometimes, unless he was well prepared for them, assume a hostile attitude against his government, and perhaps make great aggressions upon his territories. he wished, therefore, to prepare himself for the emergencies that might in future arise by making himself thoroughly acquainted with all the details of the military art. he did not expect, it is true, that he should ever be called upon to serve in any of his armies as an actual drummer, or to wheel earth and construct fortifications with his own hands, still less to make the wheelbarrows by which the work was to be done; but he was aware that he could superintend these things far more intelligently and successfully if he knew in detail precisely how every thing ought to be done, and that was the reason why he took so much pains to learn himself how to do them. as he grew older he contrived to introduce higher and higher branches of military art into the school, and to improve and perfect the organization of it in every way. after a while he adopted improved uniforms and equipments for the pupils, such as were used at the military schools of the different nations of europe; and he established professors of different branches of military science as fast as he himself and his companions advanced in years and in power of appreciating studies more and more elevated. the result was, that when, at length, he was eighteen years of age, and the time arrived for him to leave the place, the institution had become completely established as a well-organized and well-appointed military school, and it continued in successful operation as such for a long time afterward. it was in a great measure in consequence of the energy and talent which peter thus displayed that so many of the leading nobles attached themselves to his cause, by which means he was finally enabled to depose sophia from her regency, and take the power into his own hands, even before he was of age, as related in the last chapter. chapter iv. le fort and menzikoff. - conditions of success in life--the selection of agents--building a house--secret of success--peter's youth--le fort and menzikoff--merchants of amsterdam--le fort in the counting-house--he goes to copenhagen--he becomes acquainted with military life--the ambassador--le fort an interpreter--he attracts the attention of the emperor--his judicious answers--gratification of the emperor--the embassador's opinion--the glass of wine--le fort given up to the emperor--his appointment at court--his subsequent career--uniforms--le fort's suggestion--an embassador's train--surprise and pleasure of the czar--le fort undertakes a commission--making of the uniforms--he enlists a company--the company appears before the emperor--the result--new improvements proposed--changes--remodeling of the tariff--effects of the change--the finances--carpenters and masons brought in--new palace--le fort's increasing influence--his generosity--peter's violent temper--le fort an intercessor--prince menzikoff--his early history--he sets off to seek his fortune--his pies and cakes--negotiations with the emperor--menzikoff in le fort's company--menzikoff's real character--quarrel between peter and his wife--cause of the quarrel--ottokesa's cruel fate--grave faults in peter's character whatever may be a person's situation in life, his success in his undertakings depends not more, after all, upon his own personal ability to do what is required to be done, than it does upon his sagacity and the soundness of his judgment in selecting the proper persons to co-operate with him and assist him in doing it. in all great enterprises undertaken by men, it is only a very small part which they can execute with their own hands, and multitudes of most excellently contrived plans fail for want of wisdom in the choice of the men who are depended upon for the accomplishment of them. this is true in all things, small as well as great. a man may form a very wise scheme for building a house. he may choose an excellent place for the location of it, and draw up a good plan, and make ample arrangements for the supply of funds, but if he does not know how to choose, or where to find good builders, his scheme will come to a miserable end. he may choose builders that are competent but dishonest, or they may be honest but incompetent, or they may be subject to some other radical defect; in either of which cases the house will be badly built, and the scheme will be a failure. many men say, when such a misfortune as this happens to them, "ah! it was not my fault. it was the fault of the builders;" to which the proper reply would be, "it _was_ your fault. you should not have undertaken to build a house unless, in addition to being able to form the general plan and arrangements wisely, you had also had the sagacity to discern the characters of the men whom you were to employ to execute the work." this latter quality is as important to success in all undertakings as the former. indeed, it is far more important, for good _men_ may correct or avoid the evils of a bad plan, but a good plan can never afford security against the evil action of bad men. the sovereigns and great military commanders that have acquired the highest celebrity in history have always been remarkable for their tact and sagacity in discovering and bringing forward the right kind of talent for the successful accomplishment of their various designs. when peter first found himself nominally in possession of the supreme power, after the fall of the princess sophia, he was very young, and the administration of the government was really in the hands of different nobles and officers of state, who managed affairs in his name. from time to time there were great dissensions among these men. they formed themselves into cliques and coteries, each of which was jealous of the influence of the others. as peter gradually grew older, and felt stronger and stronger in his position, he took a greater part in the direction and control of the public policy, and the persons whom he first made choice of to aid him in his plans were two very able men, whom he afterward raised to positions of great responsibility and honor. these men became, indeed, in the end, highly distinguished as statesmen, and were very prominent and very efficient instruments in the development and realization of peter's plans. the name of the first of these statesmen was le fort; that of the second was menzikoff. the story which is told by the old historians of both of these men is quite romantic. le fort was the son of a merchant of geneva. he had a strong desire from his childhood to be a soldier, but his father, considering the hardships and dangers to which a military life would expose him, preferred to make him a merchant, and so he provided him with a place in the counting-house of one of the great merchants of amsterdam. the city of amsterdam was in those days one of the greatest and wealthiest marts of commerce in the world. very many young men, in being thus restrained by their fathers from pursuing the profession which they themselves chose, and placed, instead, in a situation which they did not like, would have gone to their duty in a discontented and sullen manner, and would have made no effort to succeed in the business or to please their employers; but le fort, it seems, was a boy of a different mould from this. he went to his work in the counting-house at amsterdam with a good heart, and devoted himself to his business with so much industry and steadiness, and evinced withal so much amiableness of disposition in his intercourse with all around him, that before long, as the accounts say, the merchant "loved him as his own child." after some considerable time had elapsed, the merchant, who was constantly sending vessels to different parts of the world, was on one occasion about dispatching a ship to copenhagen, and le fort asked permission to go in her. the merchant was not only willing that he should go, but also gave him the whole charge of the cargo, with instructions to attend to the sale of it, and the remittance of the proceeds on the arrival of the ship in port. le fort accordingly sailed in the ship, and on his arrival at copenhagen he transacted the business of selling the cargo and sending back the money so skillfully and well that the merchant was very well pleased with him. copenhagen is the capital of denmark, and the danes were at that time quite a powerful and warlike nation. le fort, in walking about the streets of the town while his ship was lying there, often saw the danish soldiers marching to and fro, and performing their evolutions, and the sight revived in his mind his former interest in being a soldier. he soon made acquaintance with some of the officers, and, in hearing them talk of their various adventures, and of the details of their mode of life, he became very eager to join them. they liked him, too, very much. he had made great progress in learning the different languages spoken in that part of the world, and the officers found, moreover, that he was very quick in understanding the military principles which they explained to him, and in learning evolutions of all kinds. about this time it happened that an embassador was to be sent from denmark to russia, and le fort, who had a great inclination to see the world as well as to be a soldier, was seized with a strong desire to accompany the expedition in the embassador's train. he already knew something of the russian language, and he set himself at work with all diligence to study it more. he also obtained recommendations from those who had known him--probably, among others, from the merchant in amsterdam, and he secured the influence in his favor of the officers in copenhagen with whom he had become acquainted. when these preliminary steps had been taken, he made application for the post of interpreter to the embassy; and after a proper examination had been made in respect to his character and his qualifications, he received the appointment. thus, instead of going back to amsterdam after his cargo was sold, he went to russia in the suite of the embassador. the embassador soon formed a very strong friendship for his young interpreter, and employed him confidentially, when he arrived in moscow, in many important services. the embassador himself soon acquired great influence at moscow, and was admitted to quite familiar intercourse, not only with the leading russian noblemen, but also with peter himself. on one occasion, when peter was dining at the embassador's--as it seems he was sometimes accustomed to do--he took notice of le fort, who was present as one of the party, on account of his prepossessing appearance and agreeable manners. he also observed that, for a foreigner, he spoke the russian language remarkably well. the emperor asked le fort some questions concerning his origin and history, and, being very much pleased with his answers, and with his general air and demeanor, he asked him whether he should be willing to enter into his service. le fort replied in a very respectful manner, "that, whatever ambition he might have to serve so great a monarch, yet the duty and gratitude which he owed to his present master, the embassador, would not allow him to promise any thing without first asking his consent." "very well," replied the czar; "_i_ will ask your master's consent." "but i hope," said le fort, "that your majesty will make use of some other interpreter than myself in asking the question." peter was very much pleased with both these answers of le fort--the one showing his scrupulous fidelity to his engagements in not being willing to leave one service for another, however advantageous to himself the change might be, until he was honorably released by his first employer, and the other marking the delicacy of mind which prompted him to wish not to take any part in the conversation between the emperor and the embassador respecting himself, as his office of interpreter would naturally lead him to do, but to prefer that the communication should be made through an indifferent person, in order that the embassador might be perfectly free to express his real opinion without any reserve. accordingly, the czar, taking another interpreter with him, went to the embassador and began to ask him about le fort. "he speaks very good russian," said peter. "yes, please your majesty," said the embassador, "he has a genius for learning any thing that he pleases. when he came to me four months ago he knew very little of german, but now he speaks it very well. i have two german interpreters in my train, and he speaks the language as well as either of them. he did not know a word of russian when he came to my country, but your majesty can judge yourself how well he speaks it now." in the mean time, while peter and the embassador were talking thus about le fort, he himself had withdrawn to another part of the room. the czar was very much pleased with the modesty of the young gentleman's behavior; and, after finishing the conversation with the embassador, without, however, having asked him to release le fort from his service, he returned to the part of the room where le fort was, and presently asked him to bring him a glass of wine. he said no more to him at that time in respect to entering his service, but le fort understood very well from his countenance, and from the manner in which he asked him for the wine, that nothing had occurred in his conversation with the embassador to lead him to change his mind. the next day peter, having probably in the mean time made some farther inquiries about le fort, introduced the subject again in conversation with the embassador. he told the embassador that he had a desire to have the young man le fort about him, and asked if he should be willing to part with him. the embassador replied that, notwithstanding any desire he might feel to retain so agreeable and promising a man in his own service, still the exchange was too advantageous to le fort, and he wished him too well to make any objection to it; and besides, he added, he knew too well his duty to his majesty not to consent readily to any arrangement of that kind that his majesty might desire. the next day peter sent for le fort, and formally appointed him his first interpreter. the duties of this office required le fort to be a great deal in the emperor's presence, and peter soon became extremely attached to him. le fort, although we have called him a young man, was now about thirty-five years of age, while peter himself was yet not twenty. it was natural, therefore, that peter should soon learn to place great confidence in him, and often look to him for information, and this the more readily on account of le fort's having been brought up in the heart of europe, where all the arts of civilization, both those connected with peace and war, were in a much more advanced state than they were at this time in russia. le fort continued in the service of the emperor until the day of his death, which happened about ten years after this time; and during this period he rose to great distinction, and exercised a very important part in the management of public affairs, and more particularly in aiding peter to understand and to introduce into his own dominions the arts and improvements of western europe. the first improvement which le fort was the means of introducing in the affairs of the czar related to the dress and equipment of the troops. the guards had before that time been accustomed to wear an old-fashioned russian uniform, which was far from being convenient. the outside garment was a sort of long coat or gown, which considerably impeded the motion of the limbs. one day, not long after le fort entered the service of the emperor, peter, being engaged in conversation with him, asked him what he thought of his soldiers. "the men themselves are very well," replied le port, "but it seems to me that the dress which they wear is not so convenient for military use as the style of dress now usually adopted among the western nations." peter asked what this style was, and le fort replied that if his majesty would permit him to do so, he would take measures for affording him an opportunity to see. accordingly, le fort repaired immediately to the tailor of the danish embassador. this tailor the embassador had brought with him from copenhagen, for it was the custom in those days for personages of high rank and station, like the embassador, to take with them, in their train, persons of all the trades and professions which they might require, so that, wherever they might be, they could have the means of supplying all their wants within themselves, and without at all depending upon the people whom they visited. le fort employed the tailor to make him two military suits, in the style worn by the royal guards at copenhagen--one for an officer, and another for a soldier of the ranks. the tailor finished the first suit in two days. le fort put the dress on, and in the morning, at the time when, according to his usual custom, he was to wait upon the emperor in his chamber, he went in wearing the new uniform. the czar was surprised at the unexpected spectacle. at first he did not know le fort in his new garb; and when at length he recognized him, and began to understand the case, he was exceedingly pleased. he examined the uniform in every part, and praised not only the dress itself, but also le fort's ingenuity and diligence in procuring him so good an opportunity to know what the military style of the western nations really was. soon after this le fort appeared again in the emperor's presence wearing the uniform of a common soldier. the emperor examined this dress too, and saw the superiority of it in respect to its convenience, and its adaptedness to the wants and emergencies of military life. he said at once that he should like to have a company of guards dressed and equipped in that manner, and should be also very much pleased to have them disciplined and drilled according to the western style. le fort said that if his majesty was pleased to intrust him with the commission, he would endeavor to organize such a company. the emperor requested him to do so, and le port immediately undertook the task. he went about moscow to all the different merchants to procure the materials necessary--for many of these materials were such as were not much in use in moscow, and so it was not easy to procure them in sufficient quantities to make the number of suits that le fort required. he also sought out all the tailors that he could find at the houses of the different embassadors, or of the great merchants who came from western europe, and were consequently acquainted with the mode of cutting and making the dresses in the proper manner. of course, a considerable number of tailors would be necessary to make up so many uniforms in the short space of time which le fort wished to allot to the work. le fort then went about among the strangers and foreigners at moscow, both those connected with the embassadors and others, to find men that were in some degree acquainted with the drill and tactics of the western armies, who were willing to serve in the company that he was about to organize. he soon made up a company of fifty men. when this company was completed, and clothed in the new uniform, and had been properly drilled, le fort put himself at the head of them one morning, and marched them, with drums beating and colors flying, before the palace gate. the czar came to the window to see them as they passed. he was much surprised at the spectacle, and very much pleased. he came down to look at the men more closely; he stood by while they went through the exercises in which le fort had drilled them. the emperor was so much pleased that he said he would join the company himself. he wished to learn to perform the exercise personally, so as to know in a practical manner precisely how others ought to perform it. he accordingly caused a dress to be made for himself, and he took his place afterward in the ranks as a common soldier, and was drilled with the rest in all the exercises. from this beginning the change went on until the style of dress and the system of tactics for the whole imperial army was reformed by the introduction of the compact and scientific system of western europe, in the place of the old-fashioned and cumbrous usages which had previously prevailed. the emperor having experienced the immense advantages which resulted from the adoption of western improvements in his army, wished now to make an experiment of introducing, in the same way, the elements of western civilization into the ordinary branches of industry and art. he proposed to le fort to make arrangements for bringing into the country a great number of mechanics and artisans from denmark, germany, france, and other european countries, in order that their improved methods and processes might be introduced into russia. le fort readily entered into this proposal, but he explained to the emperor that, in order to render such a measure successful on the scale necessary for the accomplishment of any important good, it would be first requisite to make some considerable changes in the general laws of the land, especially in relation to intercourse with foreign nations. on his making known fully and in detail what these changes would be, the emperor readily acceded to them, and the proposed modifications of the laws were made. the tariff of duties on the products and manufactures of foreign countries was greatly reduced. this produced a two-fold effect. in the first place, it greatly increased the importations of goods from foreign countries, and thus promoted the intercourse of the russians with foreign merchants, manufacturers, and artisans, and gradually accustomed the people to a better style of living, and to improved fashions in dress, furniture, and equipage, and thus prepared the country to furnish an extensive market for the encouragement of russian arts and manufactures as fast as they could be introduced. in the second place, the new system greatly increased the revenues of the empire. it is true that the tariff was reduced, so that the articles that were imported paid only about half as much in proportion after the change as before. but then the new laws increased the importations so much, that the loss was very much more than made up to the treasury, and the emperor found in a very short time that the state of his finances was greatly improved. this enabled him to take measures for introducing into the country great numbers of foreign manufacturers and artisans from germany, france, scotland, and other countries of western europe. these men were brought into the country by the emperor, and sustained there at the public expense, until they had become so far established in their several professions and trades that they could maintain themselves. among others, he brought in a great many carpenters and masons to teach the russians to build better habitations than those which they had been accustomed to content themselves with, which were, in general, wooden huts of very rude and inconvenient construction. one of the first undertakings in which the masons were employed was the building of a handsome palace of hewn stone in moscow for the emperor himself, the first edifice of that kind which had ever been built in that city. the sight of a palace formed of so elegant and durable a material excited the emulation of all the wealthy noblemen, so that, as soon as the masons were released from their engagement with the emperor, they found plenty of employment in building new houses and palaces for these noblemen. these and a great many other similar measures were devised by le fort during the time that he continued in the service of the czar, and the success which attended all his plans and proposals gave him, in the end, great influence, and was the means of acquiring for him great credit and renown. and yet he was so discreet and unpretending in his manners and demeanor, if the accounts which have come down to us respecting him are correct, that the high favor in which he was held by the emperor did not awaken in the hearts of the native nobles of the land any considerable degree of that jealousy and ill-will which they might have been expected to excite. le fort was of a very self-sacrificing and disinterested disposition. he was generous in his dealings with all, and he often exerted the ascendency which he had acquired over the mind of the emperor to save other officers from undeserved or excessive punishment when they displeased their august master; for it must be confessed that peter, notwithstanding all the excellences of his character, had the reputation at this period of his life of being hasty and passionate. he was very impatient of contradiction, and he could not tolerate any species of opposition to his wishes. being possessed himself of great decision of character, and delighting, as he did, in promptness and energy of action, he lost all patience sometimes, when annoyed by the delays, or the hesitation, or the inefficiency of others, who were not so richly endowed by nature as himself. in these cases he was often unreasonable, and sometimes violent; and he would in many instances have acted in an ungenerous and cruel manner if le fort had not always been at hand to restrain and appease him. le fort always acted as intercessor in cases of difficulty of this sort; so that the russian noblemen, or boyars as they were called, in the end looked upon him as their father. it is said that he actually saved the lives of great numbers of them, whom peter, without his intercession, would have sentenced to death. others he saved from the knout, and others from banishment. at one time, when the emperor in a passion, was going to cause one of his officers to be scourged, although, as le fort thought, he had been guilty of no wrong which could deserve such a punishment, le fort, after all other means had failed, bared his own breast and shoulders, and bade the angry emperor to strike or cut there if he would, but to spare the innocent person. the czar was entirely overcome by this noble generosity, and, clasping le fort in his arms, thanked him for his interposition, at the same time allowing the trembling prisoner to depart in peace, with his heart full of gratitude toward the friend who had so nobly saved him. another of the chief officers in peter's service during the early part of his reign was the prince menzikoff. his origin was very humble. his christian name was alexander, and his father was a laboring man in the service of a monastery on the banks of the volga. the monasteries of those times were endowed with large tracts of valuable land, which were cultivated by servants or vassals, and from the proceeds of this cultivation the monks were supported, and the monastery buildings kept in repair or enlarged. alexander spent the early years of his life in working with his father on the monastery lands; but, being a lad of great spirit and energy, he gradually became dissatisfied with this mode of life; for the peasants of those days, such as his father, who tilled the lands of the nobles or of the monks, were little better than slaves. alexander, then, when he arrived at the age of thirteen or fourteen, finding his situation and prospects at home very gloomy and discouraging, concluded to go out into the world and seek his fortune. so he left his father's hut and set out for moscow. after meeting with various adventures on the way and in the city, he finally found a place in a pastry-cook's shop; but, instead of being employed in making and baking the pies and tarts, he was sent out into the streets to sell them. in order to attract customers to his merchandise, he used to sing songs and tell stories in the streets. indeed, it was the talent which he evinced in these arts, doubtless, which led his master to employ him in this way, instead of keeping him at work at home in the baking. the story which is told of the manner in which the emperor's attention was first attracted to young menzikoff is very curious, but, as is the case with all other such personal anecdotes related of great sovereigns, it is very doubtful how far it is to be believed. it is said that peter, passing along the street one day, stopped to listen to menzikoff as he was singing a song or telling a story to a crowd of listeners. he was much diverted by one of the songs that he heard, and at the close of it he spoke to the boy, and finally asked him what he would take for his whole stock of cakes and pies, basket and all. the boy named the sum for which he would sell all the cakes and pies, but as for the basket he said that belonged to his master, and he had no power to sell it. [illustration: menzikoff selling his cakes.] "still," he added, "every thing belongs to your majesty, and your majesty has, therefore, only to give me the command, and i shall deliver it up to you." this reply pleased the czar so much that he sent for the boy to come to him, and on conversing with him farther, and after making additional inquiries respecting him, he was so well satisfied that he took him at once into his service. all this took place before le fort's plan was formed for organizing a company to exhibit to the emperor the style of uniform and the system of military discipline adopted in western europe, as has already been described. menzikoff joined this company, and he took so much interest in the exercises and evolutions, and evinced so great a degree of intelligence, and so much readiness in comprehending and in practicing the various manoeuvres, that he attracted le fort's special attention. he was soon promoted to office in the company, and ultimately he became le fort's principal co-operator in his various measures and plans. from this he rose by degrees, until in process of time he became one of the most distinguished generals in peter's army, and took a very important part in some of his most celebrated campaigns. in reading stories like these, we are naturally led to feel a strong interest in the persons who are the subjects of them, and we sometimes insensibly form opinions of their characters which are far too favorable. this menzikoff, for example, notwithstanding the enterprising spirit which he displayed in his boyhood, in setting off alone to moscow to seek his fortune, and his talent for telling stories and singing songs, and the interest which he felt, and the success that he met with, in learning le fort's military manoeuvres, and the great distinction which he subsequently acquired as a military commander, may have been, after all, in relation to any just and proper standards of moral duty, a very bad man. indeed, there is much reason to suppose that he was so. at all events, he became subsequently implicated in a dreadful quarrel which took place between peter and his wife, under circumstances which appear very much against him. this quarrel occurred after peter had been married only about two years, and when he was yet not quite twenty years old. as usual in such cases, very different stories are told by the friends respectively of the husband and the wife. on the part of the empress it was said that the difficulty arose from peter's having been drawn away into bad company, and especially the company of bad women, through the instrumentality of menzikoff when he first came into peter's service. menzikoff was a dissolute young man, it was said, while he was in the service of the pastry-cook, and was accustomed to frequent the haunts of the vicious and depraved about the town; and after he entered into peter's service, peter himself began to go with him to these places, disguised, of course, so as not to be known. this troubled ottokesa, and made her jealous; and when she remonstrated with her husband he was angry, and by way of recrimination accused her of being unfaithful to him. menzikoff too was naturally filled with resentment at the empress's accusations against him, and he took peter's part against his wife. whatever may have been the truth in regard to the grounds of the complaints made by the parties against each other, the power was on peter's side. he repudiated his wife, and then shut her up in a place of seclusion, where he kept her confined all the remainder of her days. besides the unfavorable inferences which we might justly draw from this case, there are unfortunately other indications that peter, notwithstanding the many and great excellences of his character, was at this period of his life violent and passionate in temper, very impatient of contradiction or opposition, and often unreasonable and unjust in his treatment of those who for any reason became the objects of his suspicion or dislike. various incidents and occurrences illustrating these traits in his character will appear in the subsequent chapters of his history. chapter v. commencement of the reign. - peter's unlimited power--extent of his dominions--character--his wishes in respect to his dominion--embassy to china--siberia--inhospitable climate--the exiles--western civilization--ship-building--the dutch ship-yards--saardam--the barge at the country palace--the emperor's first vessels--sham-fights--azof--naval operations against azof--treachery of the artilleryman--defeat--new attempt--the turkish fleet taken--fall of azof--fame of the emperor--his plans for building a fleet--foreign workmen--penalties--his arbitrary proceedings--he sends the young nobility abroad--opposition--sullen mood of mind--national prejudices offended--the opposition party--arguments of the disaffected--religious feelings of the people--the patriarch--an impious scheme--plan of the conspirators--fires--dread of them in moscow--modern cities--plan for massacring the foreigners--the day--the plot revealed--measures taken by peter--torture--punishment of the conspirators--the column in the market-place peter was now not far from twenty years of age, and he was in full possession of power as vast, perhaps--if we consider both the extent of it and its absoluteness--as was ever claimed by any european sovereign. there was no written constitution to limit his prerogatives, and no legislature or parliament to control him by laws. in a certain sense, as alexander menzikoff said when selling his cakes, every thing belonged to him. his word was law. life and death hung upon his decree. his dominions extended so far that, on an occasion when he wished to send an embassador to one of his neighbors--the emperor of china--it took the messenger more than _eighteen months_ of constant and diligent traveling to go from the capital to the frontier. such was peter's position. as to character, he was talented, ambitious, far-seeing, and resolute; but he was also violent in temper, merciless and implacable toward his enemies, and possessed of an indomitable will. he began immediately to feel a strong interest in the improvement of his empire, in order to increase his own power and grandeur as the monarch of it, just as a private citizen might wish to improve his estate in order to increase his wealth and importance as the owner of it. he sent the embassador above referred to to china in order to make arrangements for increasing and improving the trade between the two countries. this mission was arranged in a very imposing manner. the embassador was attended with a train of twenty-one persons, who went with him in the capacity of secretaries, interpreters, legal councilors, and the like, besides a large number of servants and followers to wait upon the gentlemen of the party, and to convey and take care of the baggage. the baggage was borne in a train of wagons which followed the carriages of the embassador and his suite, so that the expedition moved through the country quite like a little army on a march. it was nearly three years before the embassage returned. the measure, however, was eminently successful. it placed the relations of the two empires on a very satisfactory footing. the dominions of the czar extended then, as now, through all the northern portions of europe and asia, to the shores of the icy sea. a very important part of this region is the famous siberia. the land here is not of much value for cultivation, on account of the long and dreary winters and the consequent shortness of the summer season. but this very coldness of the climate causes it to produce a great number of fine fur-bearing animals, such as the sable, the mink, the ermine, and the otter; for nature has so arranged it that, the colder any climate is, the finer and the warmer is the fur which grows upon the animals that live there. the inhabitants of siberia are employed, therefore, chiefly in hunting wild animals for their flesh or their fur, and in working the mines; and, from time immemorial, it has been the custom to send criminals there in banishment, and compel them to spend the remainder of their lives in these toilsome and dangerous occupations. of course, the cold, the exposure, and the fatigue, joined to the mental distress and suffering which the thought of their hard fate and the recollections of home must occasion, soon bring far the greater proportion of these unhappy outcasts to the grave. peter interested himself very much in efforts to open communications with these retired and almost inaccessible regions, and to improve and extend the working of the mines. but his thoughts were chiefly occupied with the condition of the european portion of his dominions, and with schemes for introducing more and more fully the arts and improvements of western europe among his people. he was ready to seize upon every occasion which could furnish any hint or suggestion to this end. the manner in which his attention was first turned to the subject of ship-building illustrated this. in those days holland was the great centre of commerce and navigation for the whole world, and the art of ship-building had made more progress in that nation than in any other. the dutch held colonies in every quarter of the globe. their men-of-war and their fleets of merchantmen penetrated to every sea, and their naval commanders were universally renowned for their enterprise, their bravery, and their nautical skill. the dutch not only built ships for themselves, but orders were sent to their ship-yards from all parts of the world, inasmuch as in these yards all sorts of vessels, whether for war, commerce, or pleasure, could be built better and cheaper than in any other place. one of the chief centres in which these ship and boat building operations were carried on was the town of saardam. this town lies near amsterdam, the great commercial capital of the country. it extends for a mile or two along the banks of a deep and still river, which furnish most complete and extensive facilities for the docks and ship-yards. now it happened that, one day when peter was with le fort at one of his country palaces where there was a little lake, and a canal connected with it, which had been made for pleasure-sailing on the grounds, his attention was attracted to the form and construction of a yacht which was lying there. this yacht having been sent for from holland at the time when the palace grounds were laid out, the emperor fell into conversation with le fort in respect to it, and this led to the subject of ships and ship-building in general. le fort represented so strongly to his master the advantages which holland and the other maritime powers of europe derived from their ships of war, that peter began immediately to feel a strong desire to possess a navy himself. there were, of course, great difficulties in the way. russia was almost entirely an inland country. there were no good sea-ports, and moscow, the capital, was situated very far in the interior. then, besides, peter not only had no ships, but there were no mechanics or artisans in russia that knew how to build them. le fort, however, when he perceived how deep was the interest which peter felt in the subject, made inquiries, and at length succeeded in finding among the dutch merchants that were in moscow the means of procuring some ship-builders to build him several small vessels, which, when they were completed, were launched upon a lake not far from the city. afterward other vessels were built in the same place, in the form of frigates; and these, when they were launched, were properly equipped and armed, under le fort's direction, and the emperor took great interest in sailing about in them on the lake, in learning personally all the evolutions necessary for the management of them, and in performing sham-fights by setting one of them against another. he took command of one of the vessels as captain, and thenceforward assumed that designation as one of his most honorable titles. all this took place when peter was about twenty-two years old. not very long after this the emperor had an opportunity to make a commencement in converting his nautical knowledge to actual use by engaging in something like a naval operation against an enemy, in conjunction with several other european powers, he declared war anew against the turks and tartars, and the chief object of the first campaign was the capture of the city of azof, which is situated on the shores of the sea of azof, near the mouth of the river don. peter not only approached and invested the city by land, but he also took possession of the river leading to it by means of a great number of boats and vessels which he caused to be built along the banks. in this way he cut off all supplies from the city, and pressed it so closely that he would have taken it, it was said, had it not been for the treachery of an officer of artillery, who betrayed to the enemy the principal battery which had been raised against the town just as it was ready to be opened upon the walls. this artilleryman, who was not a native russian, but one of the foreigners whom the czar had enlisted in his service, became exasperated at some ill treatment which he received from the russian nobleman who commanded his corps; so he secretly drove nails into the touchholes of all the guns in the battery, and then, in the night, went over to the turks and informed them what he had done. accordingly, very early in the morning the turks sallied forth and attacked the battery, and the men who were charged with the defense of it, on rushing to the guns, found that they could not be fired. the consequence was that the battery was taken, the men put to flight, and the guns destroyed. this defeat entirely disconcerted the russian army, and so effectually deranged their plans that they were obliged to raise the siege and withdraw, with the expectation, however, of renewing the attempt in another campaign. accordingly, the next year the attempt was renewed, and many more boats and vessels were built upon the river to co-operate with the besiegers. the turks had ships of their own, which they brought into the sea of azof for the protection of the town. but peter sent down a few of his smaller vessels, and by means of them contrived to entice the turkish commander up a little way into the river. peter then came down upon him with all his fleet, and the turkish ships were overpowered and taken. thus peter gained his first naval victory almost, as we might say, on the land. he conquered and captured a fleet of sea-going ships by enticing them among the boats and other small craft which he had built up country on the banks of a river. soon after this azof was taken. one of the conditions of the surrender was that the treacherous artilleryman should be delivered up to the czar. he was taken to moscow, and there put to death with tortures too horrible to be described. they did not deny that the man had been greatly injured by his russian commander, but they told him that what he ought to have done was to appeal to the emperor for redress, and not to seek his revenge by traitorously giving up to the enemy the trust committed to his charge. the emperor acquired great fame throughout europe by the success of his operations in the siege of azof. this success also greatly increased his interest in the building of ships, especially as he now, since azof had fallen into his hands, had a port upon an open sea. in a word, peter was now very eager to begin at once the building ships of war. he was determined that he would have a fleet which would enable him to go out and meet the turks in the black sea. the great difficulty was to provide the necessary funds. to accomplish this purpose, peter, who was never at all scrupulous in respect to the means which he adopted for attaining his ends, resorted at once to very decided measures. besides the usual taxes which were laid upon the people to maintain the war, he ordained that a certain number of wealthy noblemen should each pay for one ship, which, however, as some compensation for the cost which the nobleman was put to in building it, he was at liberty to call by his own name. the same decree was made in respect to a number of towns, monasteries, companies, and public institutions. the emperor also made arrangements for having a large number of workmen sent into russia from holland, and from venice, and from other maritime countries. the emperor laid his plans in this way for the construction and equipment of a fleet of about one hundred ships and vessels, consisting of frigates, store-ships, bomb-vessels, galleys, and galliasses. these were all to be built, equipped, and made in all respects ready for sea in the space of three years; and if any person or party failed to have his ship ready at that time, the amount of the tax which had been assessed to him was to be doubled. in all these proceedings, the czar, as might have been expected from his youth and his headstrong character, acted in a very summary, and in many respects in an arbitrary and despotic manner. his decrees requiring the nobles to contribute such large sums for the building of his fleet occasioned a great deal of dissatisfaction and complaint. and very soon he resorted to some other measures, which increased the general discontent exceedingly. he appointed a considerable number of the younger nobility, and the sons of other persons of wealth and distinction, to travel in the western countries of europe while the fleet was preparing, giving them special instructions in respect to the objects of interest which they should severally examine and study. the purpose of this measure was to advance the general standard of intelligence in russia by affording to these young men the advantages of foreign travel, and enlarging their ideas in respect to the future progress of their own country in the arts and appliances of civilized life. the general idea of the emperor in this was excellent, and the effect of the measure would have been excellent too if it had been carried out in a more gentle and moderate way. but the fathers of the young men were incensed at having their sons ordered thus peremptorily out of the country, whether they liked to go or not, and however inconvenient it might be for the fathers to provide the large amounts of money which were required for such journeys. it is said that one young man was so angry at being thus sent away that he determined that his country should not derive any benefit from the measure, so far as his case was concerned, and accordingly, when he arrived at venice, which was the place where he was sent, he shut himself up in his house, and remained there all the time, in order that he might not see or learn any thing to make use of on his return. this seems almost incredible. indeed, the story has more the air of a witticism, invented to express the sullen humor with which many of the young men went away, than the sober statement of a fact. still, it is not impossible that such a thing may have actually occurred; for the veneration of the old russian families for their own country, and the contempt with which they had been accustomed for many generations to look upon foreigners, and upon every thing connected with foreign manners and customs, were such as might lead in extreme cases, to almost any degree of fanaticism in resisting the emperor's measures. at any rate, in a short time there was quite a powerful party formed in opposition to the foreign influences which peter was introducing into the country. there was no one in the imperial family to whom this party could look for a leader and head except the princess sophia. the czar john, peter's feeble brother, was dead, otherwise they might have made his name their rallying cry. sophia was still shut up in the convent to which peter had sent her on the discovery of her conspiracy against him. she was kept very closely guarded there. still, the leaders of the opposition contrived to open a communication with her. they took every means to increase and extend the prevailing discontent. to people of wealth and rank they represented the heavy taxes which they were obliged to pay to defray the expenses of the emperor's wild schemes, and the loss of their own proper influence and power in the government of the country, they themselves being displaced to make room for foreigners, or favorites like menzikoff, that were raised from the lowest grades of life to posts of honor and profit which ought to be bestowed upon the ancient nobility alone. to the poor and ignorant they advanced other arguments, which were addressed chiefly to their religious prejudices. the government were subverting all the ancient usages of the country, they said, and throwing every thing into the hands of infidel or heretical foreigners. the course which the czar was pursuing was contrary to the laws of god, they said, who had forbidden the children of israel to have any communion with the unbelieving nations around them, in order that they might not be led away by them into idolatry. and so in russia, they said, the extensive power of granting permission to any russian subject to leave the country vested, according to the ancient usages of the empire, with the patriarch, the head of the church--and peter had violated these usages in sending away so many of the sons of the nobility without the patriarch's consent. there were many other measures, too, which peter had adopted, or which he had then in contemplation, that were equally obnoxious to the charge of impiety. for instance, he had formed a plan--and he had even employed engineers to take preliminary steps in reference to the execution of it--for making a canal from the river wolga to the river don, thus presumptuously and impiously undertaking to turn the streams one way, when providence had designed them to flow in another! absurd as many of these representations were, they had great influence with the mass of the common people. at length this opposition party became so extended and so strong that the leaders thought the time had arrived for them to act. they accordingly arranged the details of their plot, and prepared to put it in execution. the scheme which they formed was this: they were to set fire to some houses in the night, not far from the royal palace, and when the emperor came out, as it is said was his custom to do, in order to assist in extinguishing the flames, they were to set upon him and assassinate him. it may seem strange that it should be the custom of the emperor himself to go out and assist personally in extinguishing fires. but it so happened that the houses of moscow at this time were almost all built of wood, and they were so combustible, and were, moreover, so much exposed, on account of the many fires required in the winter season in so cold a climate, that the city was subject to dreadful conflagrations. so great was the danger, that the inhabitants were continually in dread of it, and all classes vied with each other in efforts to avert the threatened calamity whenever a fire broke out. besides this, there were in those days no engines for throwing water, and no organized department of firemen. all this, of course, is entirely different at the present day in modern cities, where houses are built of brick or stone, and the arrangements for extinguishing fires are so complete that an alarm of fire creates no sensation, but people go on with their business or saunter carelessly along the streets, while the firemen are gathering, without feeling the least concern. as soon as they had made sure of the death of the czar, the conspirators were to repair to the convent where sophia was imprisoned, release her from her confinement, and proclaim her queen. they were then to reorganize the guards, restore all the officers who had been degraded at the time of couvansky's rebellion, then massacre all the foreigners whom peter had brought into the country, especially his particular favorites, and so put every thing back upon its ancient footing. the time fixed for the execution of this plot was the night of the d of february, ; but the whole scheme was defeated by what the conspirators would probably call the treachery of two of their number. these were two officers of the guards who had been concerned in the plot, but whose hearts failed them when the hour arrived for putting it into execution. falling into conversation with each other just before the time, and finding that they agreed in feeling on the subject, they resolved at once to go and make a full confession to the czar. so they went immediately to the house of le fort, where the czar then was, and made a confession of the whole affair. they related all the details of the plot, and gave the names of the principal persons concerned in it. the emperor was at table with le fort at the time that he received this communication. he listened to it very coolly--manifested no surprise--but simply rose from the table, ordered a small body of men to attend him, and, taking the names of the principal conspirators, he went at once to their several houses and arrested them on the spot. the leaders having been thus seized, the execution of the plot was defeated. the prisoners were soon afterward put to the torture, in order to compel them to confess their crime, and to reveal the names of all their confederates. whether the names thus extorted from them by suffering were false or true would of course be wholly uncertain, but all whom they named were seized, and, after a brief and very informal trial, all, or nearly all, were condemned to death. the sentence of death was executed on them in the most barbarous manner. a great column was erected in the market-place in moscow, and fitted with iron spikes and hooks, which were made to project from it on every side, from top to bottom. the criminals were then brought out one by one, and first their arms were cut off, then their legs, and finally their heads. the amputated limbs were then hung up upon the column by the hooks, and the heads were fixed to the spikes. there they remained--a horrid spectacle, intended to strike terror into all beholders--through february and march, as long as the weather continued cold enough to keep them frozen. when at length the spring came on, and the flesh of these dreadful trophies began to thaw, they were taken down and thrown together into a pit, among the bodies of common thieves and murderers. this was the end of the second conspiracy formed against the life of peter the great. chapter vi. the emperor's tour. objects of the tour--an embassy to be sent--the emperor to go incognito--his associates--the regency--disposition of the guards--the embassy leaves moscow--riga--not allowed to see the fortifications--arrival at konigsberg--grand procession in entering the city--the pages--curiosity of the people--the escort--crowds in the streets--the embassy arrives at its lodgings--audience of the king--presents--delivery of the letter from the czar--its contents--the king's reply--grand banquet--effects of such an embassy--the policy of modern governments--the people now reserve their earnings for their own use--how peter occupied his time--dantzic--peter preserves his incognito--presents--his dress--his interest in the shipping--grand entrance into holland--curiosity of the people--peter enters amsterdam privately--views of the hollanders--residence of the czar--the east india company--peter goes to work--his real object in pursuing this course--his taste for mechanics--the opportunities and facilities he enjoyed--his old workshop--mode of preserving it--the workmen in the yard--peter's visits to his friends in amsterdam--the rich merchant--peter's manners and character--the hague--the embassy at the hague at the time when the emperor issued his orders to so many of the sons of the nobility, requiring them to go and reside for a time in the cities of western europe, he formed the design of going himself to make a tour in that part of the world, for the purpose of visiting the courts and capitals, and seeing with his own eyes what arts and improvements were to be found there which might be advantageously introduced into his own dominions. in the spring of the year , he thought that the time had come for carrying this idea into effect. the plan which he formed was not to travel openly in his own name, for he knew that in this case a great portion of his time and attention, in the different courts and capitals, would be wasted in the grand parades, processions, and ceremonies with which the different sovereigns would doubtless endeavor to honor his visit. he therefore determined to travel incognito, in the character of a private person in the train of an embassy. an embassy could proceed more quietly from place to place than a monarch traveling in his own name; and then besides, if the emperor occupied only a subordinate place in the train of the embassy, he could slip away from it to pursue his own inquiries in a private manner whenever he pleased, leaving the embassadors themselves and those of their train who enjoyed such scenes to go through all the public receptions and other pompous formalities which would have been so tiresome to him. general le fort, who had by this time been raised to a very high position under peter's government, was placed at the head of this embassy. two other great officers of state were associated with him. then came secretaries, interpreters, and subordinates of all kinds, in great numbers, among whom peter was himself enrolled under a fictitious name. peter took with him several young men of about his own age. two or three of these were particular friends of his, whom he wished to have accompany him for the sake of their companionship on the journey. there were some others whom he selected on account of the talent which they had evinced for mechanical and mathematical studies. these young men he intended to have instructed in the art of ship-building in some of the countries which the embassy were to visit. besides these arrangements in respect to the embassy, provision was, of course, to be made by the emperor for the government of the country during his absence. he left the administration in the hands of three great nobles, the first of whom was one of his uncles, his mother's brother. the name of this prince was naraskin. the other two nobles were associated with naraskin in the regency. these commissioners were to have the whole charge of the government of the country during the czar's absence. peter's little son, whose name was alexis, and who was now about seven years old, was also committed to their keeping. not having entire confidence in the fidelity of the old guards, peter did not trust the defense of moscow to them, but he garrisoned the fortifications in and around the capital with a force of about twelve thousand men that he had gradually brought together for that purpose. a great many of these troops, both officers and men, were foreigners. peter placed greater reliance on them on that account, supposing that they would be less likely to sympathize with and join the people of the city in case of any popular discontent or disturbances. the guards were sent off into the interior and toward the frontiers, where they could do no great mischief; even if disposed. at length, when every thing was ready, the embassy set out from moscow. the departure of the expedition from the gates of the city made quite an imposing scene, so numerous was the party which composed the embassadors' train. there were in all about three hundred men. the principal persons of the embassy were, of course, splendidly mounted and equipped, and they were followed by a line of wagons conveying supplies of clothing, stores, presents for foreign courts, and other baggage. this baggage-train was, of course, attended by a suitable escort. vast multitudes of people assembled along the streets and at the gates of the city to see the grand procession commence its march. the first place of importance at which the embassy stopped was the city of riga, on the shores of the gulf of riga, in the eastern part of the baltic sea.[ ] riga and the province in which it was situated, though now a part of the russian empire, then belonged to sweden. it was the principal port on the baltic in those days, and peter felt a great interest in viewing it, as there was then no naval outlet in that direction from his dominions. the governor of riga was very polite to the embassy, and gave them a very honorable reception in the city, but he refused to allow the embassadors to examine the fortifications. it had been arranged beforehand between the embassadors and peter that two of them were to ask permission to see the fortifications, and that peter himself was to go around with them as their attendant when they made their visit, in order that he might make his own observations in respect to the strength of the works and the mode of their construction. peter was accordingly very much disappointed and vexed at the refusal of the governor to allow the fortifications to be viewed, and he secretly resolved that he would seize the first opportunity after his return to open a quarrel with the king of sweden, and take this city away from him. leaving riga, the embassy moved on toward the southward and westward until, at length, they entered the dominions of the king of prussia. they came soon to the city of konigsberg, which was at that time the capital. the reception of the embassy at this city was attended with great pomp and display. the whole party halted at a small village at the distance of about a mile from the gates, in order to give time for completing the arrangements, and to await the arrival of a special messenger and an escort from the king to conduct them within the walls. at length, when all was ready, the procession formed about four o'clock in the afternoon. first came a troop of horses that belonged to the king. they were splendidly caparisoned, but were not mounted. they were led by grooms. then came an escort of troops of the royal guards. they were dressed in splendid red uniform, and were preceded by kettle-drums. then a company of the prussian nobility in beautifully-decorated coaches, each drawn by six horses. next came the state carriages of the king. the king himself was not in either of them, it being etiquette for the king to remain in his palace, and receive the embassy at a public audience there after their arrival. the royal carriages were sent out, however, as a special though indirect token of respect to the czar, who was known to be in the train. then came a precession of pages, consisting of those of the king and those of the embassadors marching together. these pages were all beautiful boys, elegantly dressed in characteristic liveries of red laced with gold. they marched three together, two of the king's pages in each rank, with one of the embassadors' between them. the spectators were very much interested in these boys, and the boys were likewise doubtless much interested in each other; but they could not hold any conversation with each other, for probably those of each set could speak only their own language. next after the pages came the embassy itself. first there was a line of thirty-six carriages, containing the principal officers and attendants of the three embassadors. in one of these carriages, riding quietly with the rest as a subordinate in the train, was peter. there was doubtless some vague intimation circulating among the crowd that the emperor of russia was somewhere in the procession, concealed in his disguise. but there were no means of identifying him, and, of course, whatever curiosity the people felt on the subject remained ungratified. next after these carriages came the military escort which the embassadors had brought with them. the escort was headed by the embassadors' band of music, consisting of trumpets, kettle-drums, and other martial instruments. then came a body of foot-guards: their uniform was green, and they were armed with silver battle-axes. then came a troop of horsemen, which completed the escort. immediately after the escort there followed the grand state carriage of the embassy, with the three embassadors in it. the procession was closed by a long train of elegant carriages, conveying various personages of wealth and distinction, who had come from the city to join in doing honor to the strangers. as the procession entered the city, they found the streets through which they were to pass densely lined on each side by the citizens who had assembled to witness the spectacle. through this vast concourse the embassadors and their suite advanced, and were finally conducted to a splendid palace which had been prepared for them in the heart of the city. the garrison of the city was drawn up at the gates of the palace, to receive them as they arrived. when the carriage reached the gate and the embassadors began to alight, a grand salute was fired from the guns of the fortress. the embassadors were immediately conducted to their several apartments in the palace by the officers who had led the procession, and then left to repose. when the officers were about to withdraw, the embassadors accompanied them to the head of the stairs and took leave of them there. the doors of the palace and the halls and entrances leading to the apartments of the embassadors were guarded by twenty-four soldiers, who were stationed there as sentinels to protect the precincts from all intrusion. four days after this there was another display, when the embassadors were admitted to their first public audience with the king. there was again a grand procession through the streets, with great crowds assembled to witness it, and bands of music, and splendid uniforms, and gorgeous equipages, all more magnificent, if possible, than before. the embassadors were conducted in this way to the royal palace. they entered the hall, dressed in cloth of gold and silver, richly embroidered, and adorned with precious stones of great value. here they found the king seated on a throne, and attended by all the principal nobles of his court. the embassadors advanced to pay their reverence to his majesty, bearing in their hands, in a richly-ornamented box, a letter from the czar, with which they had been intrusted for him. there were a number of attendants also, who were loaded with rich and valuable presents which the embassadors had brought to offer to the king. the presents consisted of the most costly furs, tissues of gold and silver, precious stones, and the like, all productions of russia, and of very great value. the king received the embassadors in a very honorable manner, and made them an address of welcome in reply to the brief addresses of salutation and compliment which they first delivered to him. he received the letter from their hands and read it. the presents were deposited on tables which had been set for the purpose. the letter stated that the czar had sent the embassy to assure him of his desire "to improve the affection and good correspondence which had always existed, as well between his royal highness and himself as between their illustrious ancestors." it said also that "the same embassy being from thence to proceed to the court of vienna, the czar requested the king to help them on their journey." and finally it expressed the thanks of the czar, for the "engineers and bombardiers" which the king had sent him during the past year, and who had been so useful to him in the siege of azof. the king, having read the letter, made a verbal reply to the embassadors, asking them to thank the czar in his name for the friendly sentiments which his letter expressed, and for the splendid embassy which he had sent to him. all this time the czar himself, the author of the letter, was standing by, a quiet spectator of the scene, undistinguishable from the other secretaries and attendants that formed the embassadors' train. after the ceremony of audience was completed the embassadors withdrew. they were reconducted to their lodgings with the same ceremonies as were observed in their coming out, and then spent the evening at a grand banquet provided for them by the elector. all the principal nobility of prussia were present at this banquet, and after it was concluded the town was illuminated with a great display of fireworks, which continued until midnight. the sending of a grand embassage like this from one royal or imperial potentate to another was a very common occurrence in those times. the pomp and parade with which they were accompanied were intended equally for the purpose of illustrating the magnificence of the government that sent them, and of offering a splendid token of respect to the one to which they were sent. of course, the expense was enormous, both to the sovereign who sent and to the one who received the compliment. but such sovereigns as those were very willing to expend money in parades which exhibited before the world the evidences of their own grandeur and power, especially as the mass of the people, from whose toils the means of defraying the cost was ultimately to come, were so completely held in subjection by military power that they could not even complain, far less could they take any effectual measures for calling their oppressors to account. in governments that are organized at the present day, either by the establishment of new constitutions, or by the remodeling and reforming of old ones, all this is changed. the people understand now that all the money which is expended by their governments is ultimately paid by themselves, and they are gradually devising means by which they can themselves exercise a greater and greater control over these expenditures. they retain a far greater portion of the avails of their labor in their own hands, and expend it in adorning and making comfortable their own habitations, and cultivating the minds of their children, while they require the government officials to live, and travel, and transact their business in a more quiet and unpretending way than was customary of yore. thus, in traveling over most parts of the united states, you will find the people who cultivate the land living in comfortable, well-furnished houses, with separate rooms appropriately arranged for the different uses of the family. there is a carpet on the parlor floor, and there are books in the book-case, and good supplies of comfortable clothing in the closets. but then our embassadors and ministers in foreign courts are obliged to content themselves with what they consider very moderate salaries, which do not at all allow of their competing in style and splendor with the embassadors sent from the old despotic monarchies of europe, under which the people who till the ground live in bare and wretched huts, and are supplied from year to year with only just enough of food and clothing to keep them alive and enable them to continue their toil. but to return to peter and his embassy. when the public reception was over peter introduced himself privately to the king in his own name, and the king, in a quiet and unofficial manner, paid him great attention. there were to be many more public ceremonies, banquets, and parades for the embassy in the city during their stay, but peter withdrew himself entirely from the scene, and went out to a certain bay, which extended about one hundred and fifty miles along the shore between konigsberg and dantzic, and occupied himself in examining the vessels which were there, and in sailing to and fro in them. this bay you will find delineated on any map of europe. it extends along the coast for a considerable distance between konigsberg and dantzic, on the southeastern shore of the baltic sea. when the embassadors and their train had finished their banquetings and celebrations in konigsberg, peter joined them again, and the expedition proceeded to dantzic. this was at that time, as it is now, a large commercial city, being one of the chief ports on the baltic for the exportation of grain from poland and other fertile countries in the interior. by this time it began to be every where well known that peter himself was traveling with the embassy. peter would not, however, allow himself to be recognized at all, or permit any public notice to be taken of his presence, but went about freely in all the places that he visited with his own companions, just as if he were a private person, leaving all the public parades and receptions, and all the banquetings, and other state and civic ceremonies, to the three embassadors and their immediate train. a great many elegant and expensive presents, however, were sent in to him, under pretense of sending them to the embassadors. the expedition traveled on in this way along the coasts of the baltic sea, on the way toward holland, which was the country that peter was most eager to see. at every city where they stopped peter went about examining the shipping. he was often attended by some important official person of the place, but in other respects he went without any ceremony whatever. he used to change his dress, putting on, in the different places that he visited, that which was worn by the common people of the town, so as not to attract any attention, and not even to be recognized as a foreigner. at one port, where there were a great many dutch vessels that he wished to see, he wore the pea-jacket and the other sailor-like dress of a common dutch skipper,[ ] in order that he might ramble about at his ease along the docks, and mingle freely with the seafaring men, without attracting any notice at all. [illustration: peter among the shipping.] the people of holland were aware that the embassy was coming into their country, and that peter himself accompanied it, and they accordingly prepared to receive the party with the highest marks of honor. as the embassy, after crossing the frontier, moved on toward amsterdam, salutes were fired from the ramparts of all the great towns that they passed, the soldiers were drawn out, and civic processions, formed of magistrates and citizens, met them at the gates to conduct them through the streets. the windows, too, and the roofs of all the houses, were crowded with spectators. wherever they stopped at night bonfires and illuminations were made in honor of their arrival, and sometimes beautiful fireworks were played off in the evening before their palace windows. of course, there was a great desire felt every where among the spectators to discover which of the personages who followed in the train of the embassy was the czar himself. they found it, however, impossible to determine this point, so completely had peter disguised his person, and merged himself with the rest. indeed, in some cases, when the procession was moving forward with great ceremony, the object of the closest scrutiny in every part for thousands of eyes, peter himself was not in it at all. this was particularly the case on the occasion of the grand entry into amsterdam. peter left the party at a distance from the city, in order to go in quietly the next day, in company with some merchants with whom he had become acquainted. and, accordingly, while all amsterdam had gathered into the streets, and were watching with the most intense curiosity every train as it passed, in order to discover which one contained the great czar, the great czar himself was several miles away, sitting quietly with his friends, the merchants, at a table in a common country inn. the government and the people of holland took a very great interest in this embassy, not only on account of the splendor of it, and the magnitude of the imperial power which it represented, but also on account of the business and pecuniary considerations which were involved. they wished very much to cultivate a good understanding with russia, on account of the trade and commerce of that country, which was already very great, and was rapidly increasing. they determined, therefore, to show the embassy every mark of consideration and honor. besides the measures which they adopted for giving the embassy itself a grand reception, the government set apart a spacious and splendid house in amsterdam for the use of the czar during his stay. they did this in a somewhat private and informal manner, it is true, for they knew that peter did not wish that his presence with the embassy should be openly noticed in any way. they organized also a complete household for this palace, including servants, attendants, and officers of all kinds, in a style corresponding to the dignity of the exalted personage who was expected to occupy it. but peter, when he arrived, would not occupy the palace at all, but went into a quiet lodging among the shipping, where he could ramble about without constraint, and see all that was to be seen which could illustrate the art of navigation. the dutch east india company, which was then, perhaps, the greatest and most powerful association of merchants which had ever existed, had large ship-yards, where their vessels were built, at saardam. saardam was almost a suburb of amsterdam, being situated on a deep river which empties into the y, so called, which is the harbor of amsterdam, and only a few miles from the town. peter immediately made arrangements for going to these ship-yards and spending the time while the embassy remained in that part of the country in studying the construction of ships, and in becoming acquainted with the principal builders. here, as the historians of the times say, he entered himself as a common ship-carpenter, being enrolled in the list of the company's workmen by the name peter michaelhoff, which was as nearly as possible his real name. he lived here several months, and devoted himself diligently to his work. he kept two or three of his companions with him--those whom he had brought from moscow as his friends and associates on the tour; but they, it is said, did not take hold of the hard work with nearly as much zeal and energy as peter displayed. peter himself worked for the greatest part of every day among the other workmen, wearing also the same dress that they wore. when he was tired of work he would go out on the water, and sail and row about in the different sorts of boats, so as to make himself practically acquainted with the comparative effects of the various modes of construction. the object which peter had in view in all this was, doubtless, in a great measure, his own enjoyment for the time being. he was so much interested in the subject of ships and ship-building, and in every thing connected with navigation, that it was a delight to him to be in the midst of such scenes as were to be witnessed in the company's yards. he was still but a young man, and, like a great many other young men, he liked boats and the water. it is not probable, notwithstanding what is said by historians about his performances with the broad-axe, that he really did much serious work. still he was naturally fond of mechanical occupations, as the fact of his making a wheelbarrow with which to construct a fortification, in his schoolboy days, sufficiently indicates. then, again, his being in the ship-yards so long, nominally as one of the workmen, gave him undoubtedly great facilities for observing every thing which it was important that he should know. of course, he could not have seriously intended to make himself an actual and practical ship-carpenter, for, in the first place, the time was too short. a trade like that of a ship-carpenter requires years of apprenticeship to make a really good workman. then, in the second place, the mechanical part of the work was not the part which it devolved upon him, as a sovereign intent on building up a navy for the protection of his empire, even to superintend. he could not, therefore, have seriously intended to learn to build ships himself, but only to make himself nominally a workman, partly for the pleasure which it gave him to place himself so wholly at home among the shipping, and partly for the sake of the increased opportunities which he thereby obtained of learning many things which it was important that he should know. travelers visiting holland at the present day often go out to saardam to see the little building that is still shown as the shop which peter occupied while he was there. it is a small wooden building, leaning and bent with age and decrepitude and darkened by exposure and time. within the last half century, however, in order to save so curious a relic from farther decay, the proprietors of the place have constructed around and over it an outer building of brick, which incloses the hut itself like a case. the sides of the outer building are formed of large, open arches, which allow the hut within to be seen. the ground on which the hut stands has also been laid out prettily as a garden, and is inclosed by a wall. within this wall, and near the gate, is a very neat and pretty dutch cottage, in which the custodian lives who shows the place to strangers. while peter was in the ship-yards the workmen knew who he was, but all persons were forbidden to gather around or gaze at him, or to interfere with him in any way by their notice or their attentions. they were to allow him to go and come as he pleased, without any molestation. these orders they obeyed as well as they could, as every one was desirous of treating their visitor in a manner as agreeable to him as possible, so as to prolong his stay. peter varied his amusements, while he thus resided in saardam, by making occasional visits in a quiet and private way to certain friends in amsterdam. he very seldom attended any of the great parades and celebrations which were continually taking place in honor of the embassy, but went only to the houses of men eminent in private life for their attainments in particular branches of knowledge, or for their experience or success as merchants or navigators. there was one person in particular that peter became acquainted with in amsterdam, whose company and conversation pleased him very much, and whom he frequently visited. this was a certain wealthy merchant, whose operations were on so vast a scale that he was accustomed to send off special expeditions at his own expense, all over the world, to explore new regions and discover new fields for his commercial enterprise. in order also to improve the accuracy of the methods employed by his ship-masters for ascertaining the latitude and longitude in navigating their ships, he built an observatory, and furnished it with the telescopes, quadrants, and other costly instruments necessary for making the observations--all at his own expense. with this gentleman, and with the other persons in amsterdam that peter took a fancy to, he lived on very friendly and familiar terms. he often came in from saardam to visit them, and would sometimes spend a considerable portion of the night in drinking and making merry with them. he assumed with these friends none of the reserve and dignity of demeanor that we should naturally associate with the idea of a king. indeed, he was very blunt, and often rough and overbearing in his manners, not unfrequently doing and saying things which would scarcely be pardoned in a person of inferior station. when thwarted or opposed in any way he was irritable and violent, and he evinced continually a temper that was very far from being amiable. in a word, though his society was eagerly sought by all whom he was willing to associate with, he seems to have made no real friends. those who knew him admired his intelligence and his energy, and they respected his power, but he was not a man that any one could love. amsterdam, though it was the great commercial centre of holland--and, indeed, at that time, of the world--was not the capital of the country. the seat of government was then, as now, at the hague. accordingly, after remaining as long at amsterdam as peter wished to amuse himself in the ship-yards, the embassy moved on to the hague, where it was received in a very formal and honorable manner by the king and the government. the presence of peter could not be openly referred to, but very special and unusual honors were paid to the embassy in tacit recognition of it. at the hague were resident ministers from all the great powers of europe, and these all, with one exception, came to pay visits of ceremony to the embassadors, which visits were of course duly returned with great pomp and parade. the exception was the minister of france. there was a coolness existing at this time between the russian and the french governments on account of something peter had done in respect to the election of a king of poland, which displeased the french king, and on this account the french minister declined taking part in the special honors paid to the embassy. the hague was at this time perhaps the most influential and powerful capital of europe. it was the centre, in fact, of all important political movements and intrigues for the whole continent. the embassy accordingly paused here, to take some rest from the fatigues and excitements of their long journey, and to allow peter time to form and mature plans for future movements and operations. [ ] for the situation of riga in relation to moscow, and for that of the other places visited by the embassy, the reader must not fail to refer to a map of europe. [ ] a skipper is the captain of a small vessel. chapter vii. conclusion of the tour. peter compares the shipping of different nations--he determines to visit england--king william favors peter's plans--peter leaves holland--helvoetsluys--arrival in england--his reception in london--the duke of leeds--bishop burnet--the bishop's opinion of peter's character--designs of providence--peter's curiosity--his conversations with the bishop--peter takes a house "below bridge"--how he spent his time--peter's dress--curiosity in respect to him--his visit to the tower--the various sights and shows of london--workmen engaged--peter's visit to portsmouth and spithead--situation of spithead--appearance of the men-of-war--grand naval spectacle--present of a yacht--peter sets sail--his treatment of his workmen--wages retained--the engineer--voyage to holland--peter rejoins the embassy--the emperor leopold--interview with the emperor of germany--feasts and festivities--ceremonies--bad tidings--plans changed--designs abandoned--return to moscow while the embassy itself was occupied with the parades and ceremonies at the hague, and at utrecht, where they had a grand interview with the states-general, and at other great political centres, peter traveled to and fro about holland, visiting the different ports, and examining the shipping that he found in them, with the view of comparing the different models; for there were vessels in these ports from almost all the maritime countries of europe. his attention was at last turned to some english ships, which pleased him very much. he liked the form of them better than that of the dutch ships that he had seen. he soon made the acquaintance of a number of english ship-masters and ship-carpenters, and obtained from them, through an interpreter of course, a great deal of information in respect to the state of the art of ship-building in their country. he heard that in england naval carpentry had been reduced to a regular science, and that the forms and models of the vessels built there were determined by fixed mathematical principles, which every skillful and intelligent workman was expected to understand and to practice upon; whereas in holland the carpenters worked by rote, each new set following their predecessors by a sort of mechanical imitation, without being governed by any principles or theory at all. peter immediately determined that he would go to england, and study the english methods himself on the spot, as he had already studied those of holland. the political relations between england and holland were at this time of a very intimate character, the king of england being william, prince of orange.[ ] the king, when he heard of peter's intention, was much pleased, and determined to do all in his power to promote his views in making the journey. he immediately provided the czar with a number of english attendants to accompany him on his voyage, and to remain with him in england during his stay. among these were interpreters, secretaries, valets, and a number of cooks and other domestic servants. these persons were paid by the king of england himself, and were ordered to accompany peter to england, to remain with him all the time that he was there, and then to return with him to holland, so that during the whole period of his absence he should have no trouble whatever in respect to his personal comforts or wants. these preparations having been all made, the czar left the embassy, and taking with him the company of servants which the king had provided, and also the few private friends who had been with him all the time since leaving moscow, he sailed from a certain port in the south-western part of holland, called helvoetsluys, about the middle of the month of january. he arrived without any accident at london. here he at first took up his abode in a handsome house which the king had ordered to be provided and furnished for him. this house was in a genteel part of the town, where the noblemen and other persons belonging to the court resided. it was very pleasantly situated near the river, and the grounds pertaining to it extended down to the water side. still it was far away from the part of the city which was devoted to commerce and the shipping, and peter was not very well satisfied with it on that account. he, however, went to it at first, and continued to occupy it for some time. in this house the czar was visited by a great number of the nobility, and he visited them in return. he also received particular attentions from such members of the royal family as were then in london. but the person whose society pleased him most was one of the nobility, who, like himself, tools: a great interest in maritime affairs. this was the duke of leeds. the duke kept a number of boats at the foot of his gardens in london, and he and peter used often to go out together in the river, and row and sail in them. among other attentions which were paid to peter by the government during his stay in london, one was the appointment of a person to attend upon him for the purpose of giving him, at any time, such explanations or such information as he might desire in respect to the various institutions of england, whether those relating to government, to education, or to religion. the person thus appointed was bishop burnet, a very distinguished dignitary of the church. the bishop could, of course, only converse with peter through interpreters, but the practice of conversing in that way was very common in those days, and persons were specially trained and educated to translate the language of one person to another in an easy and agreeable manner. in this way bishop burnet held from time to time various interviews with the czar, but it seems that he did not form a very favorable opinion of his temper and character. the bishop, in an account of these interviews which he subsequently wrote, said that peter was a man of strong capacity, and of much better general education than might have been expected from the manner of life which he had led, but that he was of a very hot and violent temper, and that he was very brutal in his language and demeanor when he was in a passion. the bishop expressed himself quite strongly on this point, saying that he could not but adore the depth of the providence of god that had raised such a furious man to so absolute an authority over so great a part of the world. it was seen in the end how wise was the arrangement of providence in the selection of this instrument for the accomplishment of its designs--for the reforms which, notwithstanding the violence of his personal character, and the unjust and cruel deeds which he sometimes performed, peter was the means of introducing, and those to which the changes that he made afterward led, have advanced, and are still advancing more and more every year, the whole moral, political, and social condition of all the populations of northern europe and asia, and have instituted a course of progress and improvement which will, perhaps, go on, without being again arrested, to the end of time. the bishop says that he found peter somewhat curious to learn what the political and religious institutions of england were, but that he did not manifest any intention or desire to introduce them into his own country. the chief topic which interested him, even in talking with the bishop, was that of his purposes and plans in respect to ships and shipping. he gave the bishop an account of what he had done, and of what he intended to do, for the elevation and improvement of his people; but all his plans of this kind were confined to such improvements as would tend to the extension and aggrandizement of his own power. in other words, the ultimate object of the reforms which he was desirous of introducing was not the comfort and happiness of the people themselves, but his own exaltation and glory among the potentates of the earth as their hereditary and despotic sovereign. after remaining some time in the residence which the king had provided for him at the court end of the town, peter contrived to have a house set apart for him "below bridge," as the phrase was--that is, among the shipping. there was but one bridge across the thames in those days, and the position of that one, of course, determined the limit of that part of the river and town that could be devoted to the purposes of commerce and navigation, for ships, of course, could not go above it. the house which was now provided for peter was near the royal ship-yard. there was a back gate which opened from the yard of the house into the ship-yard, so that peter could go and come when he pleased. peter remained in this new lodging for some time. he often went into the ship-yard to watch the men at their operations, and while there would often take up the tools and work with them. at other times he would ramble about the streets of london in company with his two or three particular friends, examining every thing which was new or strange to him, and talking with his companions in respect to the expediency or feasibility of introducing the article or the usage, whatever it might be, as an improvement, into his own dominions. in these excursions peter was sometimes dressed in the english citizen's dress, and sometimes he wore the dress of a common sailor. in the latter costume he found that he could walk about more freely on the wharves and along the docks without attracting observation, but, notwithstanding all that he could do to disguise himself, he was often discovered. some person, perhaps, who had seen him and his friends in the ship-yard, would recognize him and point him out. then it would be whispered from one to another among the by-standers that that was the russian emperor, and people would follow him where he went, or gather around him where he was standing. in such cases as this, as soon as peter found that he was recognized, and was beginning to attract attention, he always went immediately away. among other objects of interest which attracted peter's attention in london was the tower, where there was kept then, as now, an immense collection of arms of all kinds. this collection consists not only of a vast store of the weapons in use at the present day, laid up there to be ready for service whenever they may be required, but also a great number and variety of specimens of those which were employed in former ages, but are now superseded by new inventions. peter, as might naturally have been expected, took a great deal of interest in examining these collections. in respect to all the more ordinary objects of interest for strangers in london, the shops, the theatres, the parks, the gay parties given by the nobility at the west end, and other such spectacles, peter saw them all, but he paid very little attention to them. his thoughts were almost entirely engrossed by subjects connected with his navy. he found, as he had expected from what he heard in holland, that the english ship-carpenters had reduced their business quite to a system, being accustomed to determine the proportions of the model by fixed principles, and to work, in the construction of the ship, from drafts made by rule. when he was in the ship-yard he studied this subject very attentively; and although it was, of course, impossible that in so short a time he should make himself fully master of it, he was still able to obtain such a general insight into the nature of the method as would very much assist him in making arrangements for introducing it into his own country. there was another measure which he took that was even more important still. he availed himself of every opportunity which was afforded him, while engaged in the ship-yards and docks, to become acquainted with the workmen, especially the head workmen of the yards, and he engaged a number of them to go to russia, and enter into his service there in the work of building his navy. in a word, the czar was much better pleased with the manner in which the work of ship-building was carried on in england than with any thing that he had seen in holland; so much so that he said he wished that he had come directly to england at first, inasmuch as now, since he had seen how much superior were the english methods, he considered the long stay which he had made in holland as pretty nearly lost time. after remaining as long and learning as much in the dock-yards in and below london as he thought the time at his command would allow, peter went to portsmouth to visit the royal navy at anchor there. the arrangement which nature has made of the southern coast of england seems almost as if expressly intended for the accommodation of a great national and mercantile marine. in the first place, at the town of portsmouth, there is a deep and spacious harbor entirely surrounded and protected by land. then at a few miles distant, off the coast, lies the isle of wight, which brings under shelter a sheet of water not less than five miles wide and twenty miles long, where all the fleets and navies of the world might lie at anchor in safety. there is an open access to this sound both from the east and from the west, and yet the shores curve in such a manner that both entrances are well protected from the ingress of storms. directly opposite to portsmouth, and within this inclosed sea, is a place where the water is just of the right depth, and the bottom of just the right conformation for the convenient anchoring of ships of war. this place is called spithead, and it forms one of the most famous anchoring grounds in the world. it is here that the vast fleets of the english navy assemble, and here the ships come to anchor, when returning home from their distant voyages. the view of these grim-looking sea-monsters, with their double and triple rows of guns, lying quietly at their moorings, as seen by the spectator from the deck of the steamer which glides through and among them, on the way from portsmouth to the isle of wight, is extremely imposing. indeed, when considered by a mind capable of understanding in some degree the vast magnitude and extension of the power which lies thus reposing there, the spectacle becomes truly sublime. in order to give peter a favorable opportunity to see the fleet at spithead, the king of england commissioned the admiral in command of the navy to accompany him to portsmouth, and to put the fleet to sea, with the view of exhibiting a mock naval engagement in the channel. nothing could exceed the pleasure which this spectacle afforded to the czar. he expressed his admiration of it in the most glowing terms, and said that he verily believed that an admiral of the english fleet was a happier man than the czar of muscovy. at length, when the time arrived for peter to set out on his return to his own dominions, the king of england made him a present of a beautiful yacht, which had been built for his own use in his voyages between england and holland. the name of the yacht was the royal transport. it was an armed vessel, carrying twenty-four guns, and was well-built, and richly finished and furnished in every respect. the czar set sail from england in this yacht, taking with him the companions that he had brought with him into england, and also a considerable number of the persons whom he had engaged to enter into his service in russia. some of these persons were to be employed in the building of ships, and others in the construction of a canal to connect the river don with the river wolga. the don flows into the black and the wolga into the caspian sea, and the object of the canal was to allow peter's vessels to pass from one sea into the other at pleasure. as soon as the canal should be opened, ships could be built on either river for use in either sea. the persons who had been engaged for these various purposes were promised, of course, very large rewards to induce them to leave their country. many of them afterward had occasion bitterly to regret their having entered the service of such a master. they complained that, after their arrival in russia, peter treated them in a very unjust and arbitrary manner. they were held as prisoners more than as salaried workmen, being very closely watched and guarded to prevent their making their escape and going back to their own country before finishing what peter wished them to do. then, a large portion of their pay was kept back, on the plea that it was necessary for the emperor to have security in his own hands for their fidelity in the performance of their work, and for their remaining at their posts until their work was done. there was one gentleman in particular, a scotch mathematician and engineer, who had been educated at the university of aberdeen, that complained of the treatment which he received in a full and formal protest, which he addressed to peter in writing, and which is still on record. he makes out a very strong case in respect to the injustice with which he was treated. but, however disappointed these gentlemen may have been in the end, they left england in the emperor's beautiful yacht, much elated with the honor they had received in being selected by such a potentate for the execution of important trusts in a distant land, and with high anticipations of the fame and fortune which they expected to acquire before the time should arrive for them to return to their own country. from england the yacht sailed to holland, where peter disembarked, in order to join the embassy and accompany them in their visits to some other courts in central europe before returning home. he first went to vienna. he still nominally preserved his incognito; but the emperor leopold, who was at that time the emperor of germany, gave him a very peculiar sort of reception. he came out to the door of his antechamber to meet peter at the head of a certain back staircase communicating with the apartment, which was intended for his own private use. peter was accompanied by general le fort, the chief embassador, at this interview, and he was conducted up the staircase by two grand officers of the austrian court--the grand chamberlain and the grand equerry. after the two potentates had been introduced to each other, the emperor, who had taken off his hat to bow to the czar, put it on again, but peter remained uncovered, on the ground that he was not at that time acting in his own character as czar. the emperor, seeing this, took off his hat again, and both remained uncovered during the interview. after this a great many parades and celebrations took place in vienna, all ostensibly in honor of the embassy, but really and truly in honor of peter himself, who still preserved his incognito. at many of these festivities peter attended, taking his place with the rest of the subordinates in the train of the embassy, but he never appeared in his own true character. still he was known, and he was the object of a great many indirect but very marked attentions. on one occasion, for example, there was a masked ball in the palace of the emperor; peter appeared there dressed as a peasant of west friesland, which is a part of north holland, where the costumes worn by the common people were then, as indeed they are at the present day, very marked and peculiar. the emperor of germany appeared also at this ball in a feigned character--that of a host at an entertainment, and he had thirty-two pages in attendance upon him, all dressed as butlers. in the course of the evening one of the pages brought out to the emperor a very curious and costly glass, which he filled with wine and presented to the emperor, who then approached peter and drank to the health of the peasant of west friesland, saying at the same time, with a meaning look, that he was well aware of the inviolable affection which the peasant felt for the czar of muscovy. peter, in return, drank to the health of the host, saying he was aware of the inviolable affection he felt for the emperor of germany. these toasts were received by the whole company with great applause, and after they were drunk the emperor gave peter the curious glass from which he had drunk, desiring him to keep it as a souvenir of the occasion. these festivities in honor of the embassy at vienna were at length suddenly interrupted by the arrival of tidings from moscow that a rebellion had broken out there against peter's government. this intelligence changed at once all peter's plans. he had intended to go to venice and to rome, but he now at once abandoned these designs, and setting out abruptly from vienna, with general le fort, and a train of about thirty persons, he traveled with the utmost possible dispatch to moscow. [ ] william, prince of orange, was descended on the female side from the english royal family, and was a protestant. accordingly, when james ii., and with him the catholic branch of the royal family of england, was expelled from the throne, the british parliament called upon william to ascend it, he being the next heir on the protestant side. chapter viii. the rebellion. precautions taken by the czar--his uneasiness--his fury against his enemies--his revolting appearance--imperfect communication--conspiracy--arguments used--details of the plot--pretext of the guards--they commence their march--alarm in moscow--general gordon--a parley with the rebels--influence of the church--the clergy on the side of the rebels--conservatism--the russian clergy--the armies prepare for battle--the insurgents defeated--massacre of prisoners--confession--peter's arrival at moscow--his terrible severity--peter becomes himself an executioner--the guards--gibbets--the writer of the address to sophia--the old russian nobility--arrival of artisans--retirement of sophia--her death it will be recollected by the reader that peter, before he set out on his tour, took every possible precaution to guard against the danger of disturbances in his dominions during his absence. the princess sophia was closely confined in her convent. all that portion of the old russian guards that he thought most likely to be dissatisfied with his proposed reforms, and to take part with sophia, he removed to fortresses at a great distance from moscow. moscow itself was garrisoned with troops selected expressly with reference to their supposed fidelity to his interests, and the men who were to command them, as well as the great civil officers to whom the administration of the government was committed during his absence, were appointed on the same principle. but, notwithstanding all these precautions, peter did not feel entirely safe. he was well aware of sophia's ambition, and of her skill in intrigue, and during the whole progress of his tour he anxiously watched the tidings which he received from moscow, ready to return at a moment's warning in case of necessity. he often spoke on this subject to those with whom he was on terms of familiar intercourse. on such occasions he would get into a great rage in denouncing his enemies, and in threatening vengeance against them in case they made any movement to resist his authority while he was away. at such times he would utter most dreadful imprecations against those who should dare to oppose him, and would work himself up into such a fury as to give those who conversed with him an exceedingly unfavorable opinion of his temper and character. the ugly aspect which his countenance and demeanor exhibited at such times was greatly aggravated by a nervous affection of the head and face which attacked him, particularly when he was in a passion, and which produced convulsive twitches of the muscles that drew his head by jerks to one side, and distorted his face in a manner that was dreadful to behold. it was said that this disorder was first induced in his childhood by some one of the terrible frights through which he passed. however this may have been, the affection seemed to increase as he grew older, and as the attacks of it were most decided and violent when he was in a passion, they had the effect, in connection with his coarse and dreadful language and violent demeanor, to make him appear at such times more like some ugly monster of fiction than like a man. the result, in respect to the conduct of his enemies during his absence, was what he feared. after he had been gone away for some months they began to conspire against him. the means of communication between different countries were quite imperfect in those days, so that very little exact information came back to russia in respect to the emperor's movements. the nobles who were opposed to him began to represent to the people that he had gone nobody knew where, and that it was wholly uncertain whether he would ever return. besides, if he did return, they said it would only be to bring with him a fresh importation of foreign favorites and foreign manners, and to proceed more vigorously than ever in his work of superseding and subverting all the good old customs of the land, and displacing the ancient native families from all places of consideration and honor, in order to make room for the swarms of miserable foreign adventurers that he would bring home with him in his train. by these and similar representations the opposition so far increased and strengthened their party that, at length, they matured their arrangements for an open outbreak. their plan was, first, to take possession of the city by means of the guards, who were to be recalled for this purpose from their distant posts, and by their assistance to murder all the foreigners. they were then to issue a proclamation declaring that peter, by leaving the country and remaining so long away, had virtually abdicated the government; and also a formal address to the princess sophia, calling upon her to ascend the throne in his stead. in executing this plan, negotiations were first cautiously opened with the guards, and they readily acceded to the proposals made to them. a committee of three persons was appointed to draw up the address to sophia, and the precise details of the movements which were to take place on the arrival of the guards at the gates of moscow were all arranged. the guards, of course, required some pretext for leaving their posts and coming toward the city, independent of the real cause, for the conspirators within the city were not prepared to rise and declare the throne vacant until the guards had actually arrived. accordingly, while the conspirators remained quiet, the guards began to complain of various grievances under which they suffered, particularly that they were not paid their wages regularly, and they declared their determination to march to moscow and obtain redress. the government--that is, the regency that peter had left in charge--sent out deputies, who attempted to pacify them, but could not succeed. the guards insisted that they would go with their complaints to moscow. they commenced their march. the number of men was about ten thousand. they pretended that they were only going to the city to represent their case themselves directly to the government, and then to march back again in a peaceable manner. they wished to know, too, they said, what had become of the czar. they could not depend upon the rumors which came to them at so great a distance, and they were determined to inform themselves on the spot whether he were alive or dead, and when he was coming home. the deputies returned with all speed to moscow, and reported that the guards were on their march in full strength toward the city. the whole city was thrown into a state of consternation. many of the leading families, anticipating serious trouble, moved away. others packed up and concealed their valuables. the government, too, though not yet suspecting the real design of the guards in the movement which they were making, were greatly alarmed. they immediately ordered a large armed force to go and meet the insurgents. this force was commanded by general gordon, the officer whom peter had made general-in-chief of the army before he set out on his tour. general gordon came up with the rebels about forty miles from moscow. as soon as he came near to them he halted, and sent forward a deputation from his camp to confer with the leaders, in the hope of coming to some amicable settlement of the difficulty. this deputation consisted of russian nobles of ancient and established rank and consideration in the country, who had volunteered to accompany the general in his expedition. general gordon himself was one of the hated foreigners, and of course his appearance, if he had gone himself to negotiate with the rebels, would have perhaps only exasperated and inflamed them more than ever. the deputation held a conference with the leaders of the guards, and made them very conciliatory offers. they promised that if they would return to their duty the government would not only overlook the serious offense which they had committed in leaving their posts and marching upon moscow, but would inquire into and redress all their grievances. but the guards refused to be satisfied. they were determined, they said, to march to moscow. they wished to ascertain for themselves whether peter was dead or alive, and if alive, what had become of him. they therefore were going on, and, if general gordon and his troops attempted to oppose them, they would fight it out and see which was the strongest. in civil commotions of this kind occurring in any of the ancient non-protestant countries in europe, it is always a question of the utmost moment which side the church and the clergy espouse. it is true that the church and the clergy do not fight themselves, and so do not add any thing to the physical strength of the party which they befriend, but they add enormously to its moral strength, that is, to its confidence and courage. men have a sort of instinctive respect and fear for constituted authorities of any kind, and, though often willing to plot against them, are still very apt to falter and fall back when the time comes for the actual collision. the feeling that, after all, they are in the wrong in fighting against the government of their country, weakens them extremely, and makes them ready to abandon the struggle in panic and dismay on the first unfavorable turn of fortune. but if they have the church and the clergy on their side, this state of things is quite changed. the sanction of religion--the thought that they are fighting in the cause of god and of duty, nerves their arms, and gives them that confidence in the result which is almost essential to victory. it was so in this case. there was no class in the community more opposed to the czar's proposed improvements and reforms than the church. indeed, it is always so. the church and the clergy are always found in these countries on the side of opposition to progress and improvement. it is not that they are really opposed to improvement itself for its own sake, but that they are so afraid of change. they call themselves conservatives, and wish to preserve every thing as it is. they hate the process of pulling down. now, if a thing is good, it is better, of course, to preserve it; but, on the other hand, if it is bad, it is better that it should be pulled down. when, therefore, you are asked whether you are a conservative or not, reply that that depends upon the character of the institution or the usage which is attacked. if it is good, let it stand. if it is bad, let it be destroyed. in the case of peter's proposed improvements and reforms the church and the clergy were conservatives of the most determined character. of course, the plotters of the conspiracy in moscow were in communication with the patriarch and the leading ecclesiastics in forming their plans; and in arranging for the marching of the guards to the capital they took care to have priests with them to encourage them in the movement, and to assure them that in opposing the present government and restoring sophia to power they were serving the cause of god and religion by promoting the expulsion from the country of the infidel foreigners that were coming in in such numbers, and subverting all the good old usages and customs of the realm. it was this sympathy on the part of the clergy which gave the officers and soldiers of the guards their courage and confidence in daring to persist in their march to moscow in defiance of the army of general gordon, brought out to oppose them. the two armies approached each other. general gordon, as is usual in such cases, ordered a battery of artillery which he had brought up in the road before the guards to fire, but he directed that the guns should be pointed so high that the balls should go over the heads of the enemy. his object was to intimidate them. but the effect was the contrary. the priests, who had come into the army of the insurgents to encourage them in the fight, told them that a miracle had been performed. god had averted the balls from them, they said. they were fighting for the honor of his cause and for the defense of his holy religion, and they might rely upon it that he would not suffer them to be harmed. but these assurances of the priests proved, unfortunately for the poor guards, to be entirely unfounded. when general gordon found that firing over the heads of the rebels did no good, ho gave up at once all hope of any adjustment of the difficulty, and he determined to restrain himself no longer, but to put forth the whole of his strength, and kill and destroy all before him in the most determined and merciless manner. a furious battle followed, in which the guards were entirely defeated. two or three thousand of them were killed, and all the rest were surrounded and made prisoners. the first step taken by general gordon, with the advice of the russian nobles who had accompanied him, was to count off the prisoners and hang every tenth man. the next was to put the officers to the torture, in order to compel them to confess what their real object was in marching to moscow. after enduring their tortures as long as human nature could bear them, they confessed that the movement was a concerted one, made in connection with a conspiracy within the city, and that the object was to subvert the present government, and to liberate the princess sophia and place her upon the throne. they also gave the names of a number of prominent persons in moscow who, they said, were the leaders of the conspiracy. it was in this state of the affair that the tidings of what had occurred reached peter in vienna, as is related in the last chapter. he immediately set out on his return to moscow in a state of rage and fury against the rebels that it would be impossible to describe. as he arrived at the capital, he commenced an inquisition into the affair by putting every body to the torture whom he supposed to be implicated as a leader in it. from the agony of these sufferers he extorted the names of innumerable victims, who, as fast as they were named, were seized and put to death. there were a great many of the ancient nobles thus condemned, a great many ladies of high rank, and large numbers of priests. these persons were all executed, or rather massacred, in the most reckless and merciless manner. some were beheaded; some were broken on the wheel, and then left to die in horrible agonies. many were buried alive, their heads only being left above the ground. it is said that peter took such a savage delight in these punishments, that he executed many of the victims with his own hands. at one time, when half intoxicated at a banquet, he ordered twenty of his prisoners to be brought in, and then, with his brandy before him, which was his favorite drink, and which he often drank to excess, he caused them to be led, one after another, to the block, that he might cut off their heads himself. he took a drink of brandy after each execution while the officers were bringing forward the next man. he was just an hour, it was said, in cutting off the twenty heads, which allows of an average of three minutes to each man. this story is almost too horrible to be believed, but, unfortunately, it comports too well with the general character which peter has always sustained in the opinion of mankind in respect to the desperate and reckless cruelty to which he could be aroused under the influence of intoxication and anger. [illustration: peter turning executioner.] about two thousand of the guards were beheaded. the bodies of these men were laid upon the ground in a public place, arranged in rows, with their heads lying beside them. they covered more than an acre of ground. here they were allowed to lie all the remainder of the winter, as long, in fact, as the flesh continued frozen, and then, when the spring came on, they were thrown together into a deep ditch, dug to receive them, and thus were buried. there were also a great number of gibbets set up on all the roads leading to moscow, and upon these gibbets men were hung, and the bodies allowed to remain there, like the beheaded guards upon the ground, until the spring. as for the princess sophia, she was still in the convent where peter had placed her, the conspirators not having reached the point of liberating her before their plot was discovered. peter, however, caused the three authors of the address, which was to have been made to sophia, calling upon her to assume the crown, to be sent to the convent, and there hung before sophia's windows. and then, by his orders, the arm of the principal man among them was cut off, the address was put into his hand, and, when the fingers had stiffened around it, the limb was fixed to the wall in sophia's chamber, as if in the act of offering her the address, and ordered to remain so until the address should drop, of itself, upon the floor. such were the horrible means by which peter attempted to strike terror into his subjects, and to put down the spirit of conspiracy and rebellion. he doubtless thought that it was only by such severities as these that the end could be effectually attained. at all events, the end was attained. the rebellion was completely suppressed, and all open opposition to the progress of the czar's proposed improvements and reforms ceased. the few leading nobles who adhered to the old customs and usages of the realm retired from all connection with public affairs, and lived thenceforth in seclusion, mourning, like good conservatives, the triumph of the spirit of radicalism and innovation which was leading the country, as they thought, to certain ruin. the old guards, whom it had been proved so utterly impossible to bring over to peter's views, were disbanded, and other troops, organized on a different system, were embodied in their stead. by this time the english ship-builders, and the other mechanics and artisans that peter had engaged, began to arrive in the country, and the way was open for the emperor to go on vigorously in the accomplishment of his favorite and long-cherished plans. the princess sophia, worn out with the agitations and dangers through which she had passed, and crushed in spirit by the dreadful scenes to which her brother had exposed her, now determined to withdraw wholly from the scene. she took the veil in the convent where she was confined, and went as a nun into the cloisters with the other sisters. the name that she assumed was marpha. of course, all her ambitious aspirations were now forever extinguished, and the last gleam of earthly hope faded away from her mind. she pined away under the influences of disappointment, hopeless vexation, and bitter grief for about six years, and then the nuns of the convent followed the body of sister marpha to the tomb. chapter ix. reforms. - peter begins his proposed reforms--remodeling the army--changes of dress--the officers--new appointments--motives and object of the czar--means of revenue--mysterious power--the secret of it--management of a standing army--artful contrivances--despotism _versus_ freedom--policy of the american people--standing armies--the american government is weak--the people reserve their strength--peter's policy--the church--conservatism of the clergy--the patriarch--ancient custom--the emperor on the procession--emblems--peter's reflections on the subject--peter's determination--he proceeds cautiously--contest with the bishops--peter is victorious--other reforms--collection of the revenues--new revenue system--manners and customs of the people--mustaches and beards--the long dresses suppressed--effect of ridicule--the jester's marriage--curious sleeves--mode of manoeuvring the sleeve--the boyars in the streets--long trains of attendants--peter changes the whole system--motives of the czar--ultimate effect of his reforms as soon as peter had sufficiently glutted his vengeance on those whom he chose to consider, whether justly or unjustly, as implicated in the rebellion, he turned his attention at once to the work of introducing the improvements and reforms which had been suggested to him by what he had seen in the western countries of europe. there was a great deal of secret hostility to the changes which he thus wished to make, although every thing like open opposition to his will had been effectually put down by the terrible severity of his dealings with the rebels. he continued to urge his plans of reform during the whole course of his reign, and though he met from time to time with a great variety of difficulties in his efforts to carry them into effect, he was in the end triumphantly successful in establishing and maintaining them. i shall proceed to give a general account of these reforms in this chapter, notwithstanding that the work of introducing them extended over a period of many years subsequent to this time. the first thing to which the czar gave his attention was the complete remodeling of his army. he established new regiments in place of the old guards, and put his whole army on a new footing. he abolished the dress which the guards had been accustomed to wear--an ancient muscovite costume, which, like the dress of the highlanders of scotland, was strongly associated in the minds of the men with ancient national customs, many of which the emperor now wished to abolish. instead of this old costume the emperor dressed his new troops in a modern military uniform. this was not only much more convenient than the old dress, but the change exerted a great influence in disenthralling the minds of the men from the influence of old ideas and associations. it made them feel at once as if they were new men, belonging to a new age--one marked by a new and higher civilization than they had been accustomed to in former years. the effect which was produced by this simple change was very marked--so great is the influence of dress and other outward symbols on the sentiments of the mind and on the character. peter had made a somewhat similar change to this, in the case of his household troops and private body-guard, at the suggestion of general le fort, some time previous to this period, but now he carried the same reform into effect in respect to his whole army. in addition to these improvements in the dress and discipline of the men, peter adopted an entirely new system in officering his troops. a great many of the old officers--all those who were proved or even suspected of being hostile to him and to his measures--had been beheaded or sent into banishment, and others still had been dismissed from the service. peter filled all these vacant posts by bringing forward and appointing the sons of the nobility, making his selections from those families who were either already inclined to his side, or who he supposed might be brought over by the influence of appointments and honors conferred upon their sons. of course, the great object of the czar in thus reorganizing his army and increasing the military strength of the empire was not the more effectual protection of the country from foreign enemies, or from any domestic violence which might threaten to disturb the peace or endanger the property of the public, but only the confirming and perpetuating his own power as the sovereign ruler of it. it is true that such potentates as peter really desire that the countries over which they rule should prosper, and should increase in wealth and population; but then they do this usually only as the proprietor of an estate might wish to improve his property, that is, simply with an eye to his own interest as the owner of it. in reforming his army, and placing it, as he did, on a new and far more efficient footing than before, peter's main inducement was to increase and secure his own power. he wished also, doubtless, to preserve the peace of the country, in order that the inhabitants might go on regularly in the pursuit of their industrial occupations, for their ability to pay the taxes required for the large revenues which he wished to raise would increase or diminish, he knew very well, just in proportion to the productiveness of the general industry; still, his own exaltation and grandeur were the ultimate objects in view. young persons, when they read in history of the power which many great tyrants have exercised, and the atrocious crimes which they have committed against the rights of their fellow-men, sometimes wonder how it is that one man can acquire or retain so absolute a dominion over so many millions as to induce them to kill each other in such vast numbers at his bidding; for, of course, it is but a very small number of the victims of a tyrant's injustice or cruelty that are executed by his own hand. how is it, then, that one weak and often despicable and hateful man can acquire and retain such an ascendency over those that stand around him, that they shall all be ready to draw their swords instantaneously at his bidding, and seize and destroy, without hesitation and without mercy, whomsoever he may choose to designate as the object of his rage and vengeance? how is it that the wealthiest, the most respected, and the most popular citizens of the state, though surrounded with servants and with multitudes of friends, have no power to resist when one of these neros conceives the idea of striking him down, but must yield without a struggle to his fate, as if to inevitable destiny? the secret of this extraordinary submission of millions to one is always an army. the tyrant, under the pretense of providing the means for the proper execution of just and righteous laws, and the maintenance of peace and order in the community, organizes an army. he contrives so to arrange and regulate this force as to separate it completely from the rest of the community, so as to extinguish as far as possible all the sympathies which might otherwise exist between the soldiers and the citizens. marriage is discouraged, so that the troops may not be bound to the community by any family ties. the regiments arc quartered in barracks built and appropriated to their especial use, and they are continually changed from one set of barracks to another, in order to prevent their forming too intimate an acquaintance with any portion of the community, or learning to feel any common interest or sympathy with them. then, as a reward for their privations, the soldiers are allowed, with very little remonstrance or restraint, to indulge freely in all such habits of dissipation and vice as will not at once interfere with military discipline, or deteriorate from the efficiency of the whole body as a military corps. the soldiers soon learn to love the idle and dissolute lives which they are allowed to lead. the officers, especially those in the higher grades of rank, are paid large salaries, are clothed in a gaudy dress which is adorned with many decorations, and they are treated every where with great consideration. thus they become devoted to the will of the government, and lose gradually all regard for, and all sympathy with the rights and welfare of the people. there is a tacit agreement between them and the government, by which they are bound to keep the people in a state of utter and abject submission to the despot's will, while he, on his part, is bound to collect from the people thus subdued the sums of money necessary for their pay. thus it is the standing army which is that great and terrible sword by means of which one man is able to strike awe into the hearts of so many millions, and hold them all so entirely subject to his will. it is in consequence of having observed the effect of such armaments in the despotisms of europe and asia that the free governments of modern times take good care not to allow large standing armies to be formed. instead of this the people organize themselves into armed bands, in connection with which they meet and practice military evolutions on appointed days, and then separate and go back to their wives and to their children, and to their usual occupations, while in the despotic countries where large standing armies are maintained, the people are strictly forbidden to possess arms, or to form organizations, or to take measures of any kind that could tend to increase their means of defense against their oppressors in the event of a struggle. the consequence is, that under the free governments of the present day the people are strong and the government is weak. the standing army of france consists at the present time[ ] of five hundred thousand men, completely armed and equipped, and devoted all the time to the study and practice of the art of war. by means of this force one man is able to keep the whole population of the country in a state of complete and unquestioning submission to his will. in the united states, on the other hand, with a population nearly as great, the standing army seldom amounts to an effective force of fifteen thousand men; and if a president of the united states were to attempt by means of it to prolong his term of office, or to accomplish any other violent end, there is, perhaps, not a single state in the union, the population of which would not alone be able to put him down--so strong are the people with us, and so weak, in opposition to them, the government and the army. it is often made a subject of reproach by european writers and speakers, in commenting on the state of things in america, that the government is so weak; but this we consider not our reproach, but our glory. the government is indeed weak. the people take good care to keep it weak. but the nation is not weak; the nation is strong. the difference is, that in our country the nation chooses to retain its power in its own hands. the people make the government strong enough from time to time for all the purposes which they wish it to accomplish. when occasion shall arise, the strength thus to be imparted to it may be increased almost indefinitely, according to the nature of the emergency. in the mean time, the people consider themselves the safest depositary of their reserved power. but to return to peter. of course, his policy was the reverse of ours. he wished to make his army as efficient as possible, and to cut it off as completely as possible from all communion and sympathy with the people, so as to keep it in close and absolute subjection to his own individual will. the measures which he adopted were admirably adapted to this purpose. by means of them he greatly strengthened his power, and established it on a firm and permanent basis. peter did not forget that, during the late rebellion, the influence of the church and that of all the leading ecclesiastics had been against him. this was necessarily the case; for, in a church constituted as that of russia then was, the powers and prerogatives of the priests rested, not on reason or right, but on ancient customs. the priests would therefore naturally be opposed to all changes--even improvements--in the usages and institutions of the realm, for fear that the system of reform, if once entered upon, might extend to and interfere with their ancient prerogatives and privileges. an established church in any country, where, by means of the establishment, the priests or the ministers hold positions which secure to them the possession of wealth or power, is always opposed to every species of change. it hates even the very name of reform. peter determined to bring the russian church more under his own control. up to that time it had been, in a great measure, independent. the head of it was an ecclesiastic of great power and dignity, called the patriarch. the jurisdiction of this patriarch extended over all the eastern portion of the christian world, and his position and power were very similar to those of the pope of rome, who reigned over the whole western portion. indeed, so exalted was the position and dignity of the patriarch, and so great was the veneration in which he was held by the people, that he was, as it were, the spiritual sovereign of the country, just as peter was the civil and military sovereign; and on certain great religious ceremonies he even took precedence of the czar himself, and actually received homage from him. at one of the great religious anniversaries, which was always celebrated with great pomp and parade, it was customary for the patriarch to ride through the street on horseback, with the czar walking before him holding the bridle of the horse. the bridle used, on these occasions was very long, like a pair of reins, and was made of the richest material, and ornamented with golden embroidery. the czar walked on in advance, with the loop of the bridle lying over his arm. then came three or four great nobles of the court, who held up the reins behind the czar, one of them taking hold close to the horse's head, so as to guide and control the movements of the animal. the patriarch, who, as is the custom with priests, was dressed in long robes, which prevented his mounting the horse in the usual manner, sat upon a square flat seat which was placed upon the horse's back by way of saddle, and rode in that manner, with his feet hanging down upon one side. of course, his hands were at liberty, and with these he held a cross, which he displayed to the people as he rode along, and gave them his benediction. after the patriarch, there followed, on these occasions, an immensely long train of priests, all clothed in costly and gorgeous sacerdotal robes, and bearing a great number and variety of religious emblems. some carried very costly copies of the gospels, bound in gold and adorned with precious stones; others crosses, and others pictures of the virgin mary. all these objects of veneration were enriched with jewels and gems of the most costly description. so far, however, as these mere pageants and ceremonies were concerned, peter would probably have been very easily satisfied, and would have made no objection to paying such a token of respect to the patriarch as walking before him through the street once a year, and holding the bridle of his horse, if this were all. but he saw very clearly that these things were by no means to be considered as mere outward show. the patriarch was at the head of a vast organization, which extended throughout the empire, all the members of which were closely banded together in a system the discipline of which made them dependent upon and entirely devoted to their spiritual head. these priests, moreover, exercised individually a vast influence over the people in the towns and villages where they severally lived and performed their functions. thus the patriarch wielded a great and very extended power, almost wholly independent of any control on the part of the czar--a power which had already been once turned against him, and which might at some future day become very dangerous. peter determined at once that he would not allow such a state of things to continue. he, however, resolved to proceed cautiously. so he waited quietly until the patriarch who was then in office died. then, instead of allowing the bench of bishops, as usual, to elect another in his place, he committed the administration of the church to an ecclesiastic whom he appointed for this purpose from among his own tried friends. he instructed this officer, who was a very learned and a very devout man, to go on as nearly as possible as his predecessors, the patriarchs, had done, in the ordinary routine of duty, so as not to disturb the church by any apparent and outward change; but he directed him to consider himself, the czar, as the real head of the church, and to refer all important questions which might arise to him for decision. he thus, in fact, abrogated the office of patriarch, and made himself the supreme head of the church. the clergy throughout the empire, as soon as they understood this arrangement, were greatly disturbed, and expressed their discontent and dissatisfaction among themselves very freely. the czar heard of this; and, selecting one of the bishops, who had spoken more openly and decidedly than the rest, he ordered him to be degraded from his office for his contumacy. but this the other bishops objected to very strongly. they did not see, in fact, they said, how it could be done. it was a thing wholly unknown that a person of the rank and dignity of a bishop in the church should be degraded from his office; and that, besides, there was no authority that could degrade him, for they were all bishops of equal rank, and no one had any jurisdiction or power over the others. still, notwithstanding this, they were willing, they said, to sacrifice their brother if by that means the church could be saved from the great dangers which were now threatening her; and they said that they would depose the bishop who was accused on condition that peter would restore the rights of the church which he had suspended, by allowing them to proceed to the election of a new patriarch, to take the place of the one who had died. peter would not listen to this proposal; but he created a new bishop expressly to depose the one who had offended him. the latter was accordingly deposed, and the rest were compelled to submit. none of them dared any longer to speak openly against the course which the czar was pursuing, but writings were mysteriously dropped about the streets which contained censures of his proceedings in respect to the church, and urged the people to resist them. peter caused large rewards to be immediately offered for the discovery of the persons by whom these writings were dropped, but it was of no avail, and at length the excitement gradually passed away, leaving the victory wholly in peter's hands. after this the czar effected a great many important reforms in the administration of the affairs of the empire, especially in those relating to the government of the provinces, and to the collection of the revenues in them. this business had been hitherto left almost wholly in the hands of the governors, by whom it had been grossly mismanaged. the governors had been in the habit both of grievously oppressing the people in the collection of the taxes, and also of grossly defrauding the emperor in remitting the proceeds to the treasury. peter now made arrangements for changing the system entirely. he established a central office at the capital for the transaction of all business connected with the collecting of the revenues, and then appointed collectors for all the provinces of the empire, who were to receive their instructions from the minister who presided over this central office, and make their returns directly to him. thus the whole system was remodeled, and made far more efficient than it ever had been before. of course, the old governors, who, in consequence of this reform, lost the power of enriching themselves by their oppressions and frauds, complained bitterly of the change, and mourned, like good conservatives, the ruin which this radicalism was bringing upon the country, but they were forced to submit. whenever there was any thing in the private manners and customs of the people which peter thought was likely to impede in any way the effectual accomplishment of his plans, he did not hesitate at all to ordain a change; and some of the greatest difficulties which he had to encounter in his reforms arose from the opposition which the people made to the changes that he wished to introduce in the dress that they wore, and in several of the usages of common life. the people of the country had been accustomed to wear long gowns, similar to those worn to this day by many oriental nations. this costume was very inconvenient, not only for soldiers, but also for workmen, and for all persons engaged in any of the common avocations of life. peter required the people to change this dress; and he sent patterns of the coats worn in western europe to all parts of the country, and had them put up in conspicuous places, where every body could see them, and required every body to imitate them. he, however, met with a great deal of difficulty in inducing them to do so. he found still greater difficulty in inducing the people to shave off their mustaches and their beards. finding that they would not shave their faces under the influence of a simple regulation to that effect, he assessed a tax upon beards, requiring that every gentleman should pay a hundred rubles a year for the privilege of wearing one; and as for the peasants and common people, every one who wore a beard was stopped every time he entered a city or town, and required to pay a penny at the gate by way of tax or fine. the nuisance of long clothes he attempted to abate in a similar way. the officers of the customs, who were stationed at the gates of the towns, were ordered to stop every man who wore a long dress, and compel him either to pay a fine of about fifty cents, or else kneel down and have all that part of their coat or gown which lay upon the ground, while they were in that posture, cut off with a pair of big shears. still, such was the attachment of the people to their old fashions, that great numbers of the people, rather than submit to this curtailing of their vestments, preferred to pay the fine. on one occasion the czar, laying aside for the moment the system of severity and terror which was his usual reliance for the accomplishment of his ends, concluded to try the effect of ridicule upon the attachment of the people to old and absurd fashions in dress. it happened that one of the fools or jesters of the court was about to be married. the young woman who was to be the jester's bride was very pretty, and she was otherwise a favorite with those who knew her, and the czar determined to improve the occasion of the wedding for a grand frolic. he accordingly made arrangements for celebrating the nuptials at the palace, and he sent invitations to all the great nobles and officers of state, with their wives, and to all the other great ladies of the court, giving them all orders to appear dressed in the fashions which prevailed in the russian court one or two hundred years before. with the exception of some modes of dress prevalent at the present day, there is nothing that can be conceived more awkward, inconvenient, and ridiculous than the fashions which were reproduced on this occasion. among other things, the ladies wore a sort of dress of which the sleeves, so it is said, were ten or twelve yards long. these sleeves were made very full, and were drawn up upon the arm in a sort of a puff, it being the fashion to have as great a length to the sleeve as could possibly be crowded on between the shoulder and the wrist. it is said, too, that the customary salutation between ladies and gentlemen meeting in society, when this dress was in fashion, was performed through the intervention of these sleeves. on the approach of the gentleman, the lady, by a sudden and dexterous motion other arm, would throw off the end of her sleeve to him. the sleeve, being very long, could be thrown in this way half across the room. the gentleman would take the end of the sleeve, which represented, we are to suppose, the hand of the lady, and, after kissing and saluting it in a most respectful manner, he would resign it, and then the lady would draw it back again upon her arm. this would be too ridiculous to be believed if it were possible that any thing could be too ridiculous to be believed in respect to the absurdities of fashion. a great many of the customs and usages of social life which prevailed in those days, as well as the fashions of dress, were inconvenient and absurd. these the czar did not hesitate to alter and reform by proceedings of the most arbitrary and summary character. for instance, it was the custom of all the great nobles, or boyars, as they were called, to go in grand state whenever they moved about the city or in the environs of it, attended always by a long train of their servants and retainers. now, as these followers were mostly on foot, the nobles in the carriages, or, in the winter, in their sledges or sleighs, were obliged to move very slowly in order to enable the train to keep up with them. thus the streets were full of these tedious processions, moving slowly along, sometimes through snow and sometimes through rain, the men bareheaded, because they must not be covered in the presence of their master, and thus exposed to all the inclemency of an almost arctic climate. and what made the matter worse was, that it was not the fashion for the nobleman to move on even as fast as his followers might easily have walked. they considered it more dignified and grand to go slowly. thus, the more aristocratic a grandee was in spirit, and the greater his desire to make a display of his magnificence in the street, the more slowly he moved. if it had not been for the banners and emblems, and the gay and gaudy colors in which many of the attendants were dressed, these processions would have produced the effect of particularly solemn funerals. the czar determined to change all this. first he set an example himself of rapid motion through the streets. when he went out in his carriage or in his sleigh, he was attended only by a very few persons, and they were dressed in a neat uniform and mounted on good horses, and his coachman was ordered to drive on at a quick pace. the boyars were slow to follow this example, but the czar assisted them considerably in their progress toward the desired reform by making rules limiting the number of idle attendants which they were allowed to have about them; and then, if they would not dismiss the supernumeraries, he himself caused them to be taken from them and sent into the army. the motive of the czar in making all these improvements and reforms was his desire to render his own power as the sovereign of the country more compact and efficient, and not any real and heartfelt interest in the welfare and happiness of the people. still, in the end, very excellent results followed from the innovations which he thus introduced. they were the commencement of a series of changes which so developed the power and advanced the civilization of the country, as in the course of a few subsequent reigns had the effect of bringing russia into the foremost rank among the nations of europe. the progress which these changes introduced continues to go on to the present time, and will, perhaps, go on unimpeded for centuries to come. [ ] . chapter x. the battle of narva. - origin of the war with sweden--peace with the turks--charles xii--siege of narva--the frontier--plan of the campaign--indignation of the king of sweden--remonstrances of holland and england--the king of sweden at riga--the czar a subordinate--general croy--his plans--operations of the king--surprise and defeat of the russians--terrible slaughter--whimsical plan for disposing of the prisoners--effect upon the czar--new plans and arrangements the reader will perhaps recollect how desirous peter had long been to extend his dominions toward the west, so as to have a sea-port under his control on the baltic sea; for, at the time when he succeeded to the throne, the eastern shores of the baltic belonged to poland and to sweden, so that the russians were confined, in a great measure, in their naval operations to the waters of the black and caspian seas, and to the rivers flowing into them. you will also recollect that when, at the commencement of his tour, he arrived at the town of riga, which stands at the head of the gulf of riga, a sort of branch of the baltic, he had been much offended at the refusal of the governor of the place, acting under the orders of the king of sweden, to allow him to view the fortifications there. he then resolved that riga, and the whole province of which it was the capital, should one day be his. the year after he returned from his travels--that is, in , the country being by that time restored to its ordinary state of repose after the suppression of the rebellion--he concluded that the time had arrived for carrying his resolution into effect. so he set a train of negotiations on foot for making a long truce with the turks, not wishing to have two wars on his hands at the same time. when he had accomplished this object, he formed a league with the kingdoms of poland and denmark to make war upon sweden. so exactly were all his plans laid, that the war with sweden was declared on the very next day after the truce of the turks was concluded. the king of sweden at this time was charles xii. he was a mere boy, being only at that time eighteen years of age, and he had just succeeded to the throne. he was, however, a prince of remarkable talents and energy, and in his subsequent campaigns against peter and his allies he distinguished himself so much that he acquired great renown, and finally took his place among the most illustrious military heroes in history. the first operation of the war was the siege of the city of narva. narva was a port on the baltic; the situation of it, as well as that of the other places mentioned in this chapter, is seen by the adjoining map, which shows the general features of the russian and swedish frontier as it existed at that time. [illustration: map of the russian and swedish frontier.] narva, as appears by the map, is situated on the sea-coast, near the frontier--much nearer than riga. peter expected that by the conquest of this city he should gain access to the sea, and so be able to build ships which would aid him in his ulterior operations. he also calculated that when narva was in his hands the way would be open for him to advance on riga. indeed, at the same time while he was commencing the siege of narva, his ally, the king of poland, advanced from his own dominions to riga, and was now prepared to attack that city at the same time that the czar was besieging narva. in the mean while the news of these movements was sent by couriers to the king of sweden, and the conduct of peter in thus suddenly making war upon him, and invading his dominions, made him exceedingly indignant. the only cause of quarrel which peter pretended to have against the king was the uncivil treatment which he had received at the hands of the governor of riga in refusing to allow him to see the fortifications when he passed through that city on his tour. peter had, it is true, complained of this insult, as he called it, and had sent commissioners to sweden to demand satisfaction; and certain explanations had been made, though peter professed not to be satisfied with them. still, the negotiations had not been closed, and the government of sweden had no idea that the misunderstanding would lead to war. indeed, the commissioners were still at the swedish court, continuing the negotiations, when the news arrived that peter had at once brought the question to an issue by declaring war and invading the swedish territory. the king immediately collected a large army, and provided a fleet of two hundred transports to convey them to the scene of action. the preparations were made with great dispatch, and the fleet sailed for riga. the news, too, of this war occasioned great dissatisfaction among the governments of western europe. the government of holland was particularly displeased, on account of the interference and interruption which the war would occasion to all their commerce in the baltic. they immediately determined to remonstrate with the czar against the course which he was pursuing, and they induced king william, of england, to join them in the remonstrance. they also, at the same time, sent a messenger to the king of poland, urging him by all means to suspend his threatened attack on riga until some measures could be taken for accommodating the quarrel. riga was a very important commercial port, and there were a great many wealthy dutch merchants there, whose interests the dutch government were very anxious to protect. the king of sweden arrived at riga with his fleet at just about the same time that the remonstrance of the dutch government reached the king of poland, who was advancing to attack it. augustus, for that was the name of the king of poland, finding that now, since so great a force had arrived to succor and strengthen the place, there was no hope for success in any of his operations against it, concluded to make a virtue of necessity, and so he drew off his army, and sent word to the dutch government that he did so in compliance with their wishes. the king of sweden had, of course, nothing now to do but to advance from riga to narva and attack the army of the czar. this army was not, however, commanded by the czar in person. in accordance with what seems to have been his favorite plan in all his great undertakings, he did not act directly himself as the head of the expedition, but, putting forward another man, an experienced and skillful general, as responsible commander, he himself took a subordinate position as lieutenant. indeed, he took a pride in entering the army at one of the very lowest grades, and so advancing, by a regular series of promotions, through all the ranks of the service. the person whom the czar had made commander-in-chief at the siege of narva was a german officer. his name was general croy. general croy had been many weeks before narva at the time when the king of sweden arrived at riga, but he had made little progress in taking the town. the place was strongly fortified, and the garrison, though comparatively weak, defended it with great bravery. the russian army was encamped in a very strong position just outside the town. as soon as news of the coming of the king of sweden arrived, the czar went off into the interior of the country to hasten a large re-enforcement which had been ordered, and, at the same time, general croy sent forward large bodies of men to lay in ambuscade along the roads and defiles through which the king of sweden would have to pass on his way from riga. but all these excellent arrangements were entirely defeated by the impetuous energy, and the extraordinary tact and skill of the king of sweden. although his army was very much smaller than that of the russians, he immediately set out on his march to narva; but, instead of moving along the regular roads, and so falling into the ambuscade which the russians had laid for him, he turned off into back and circuitous by-ways, so as to avoid the snare altogether. it was in the dead of winter, and the roads which he followed, besides being rough and intricate, were obstructed with snow, and the russians had thought little of them, so that at last, when the swedish army arrived at their advanced posts, they were taken entirely by surprise. the advanced posts were driven in, and the swedes pressed on, the russians flying before them, and carrying confusion to the posts in the rear. the surprise of the russians, and the confusion consequent upon it, were greatly increased by the state of the weather; for there was a violent snow-storm at the time, and the snow, blowing into the russians' faces, prevented their seeing what the numbers were of the enemy so suddenly assaulting them, or taking any effectual measures to restore their own ranks to order when once deranged. when at length the swedes, having thus driven in the advanced posts, reached the russian camp itself, they immediately made an assault upon it. the camp was defended by a rampart and by a double ditch, but on went the assaulting soldiers over all the obstacles, pushing their way with their bayonets, and carrying all before them. the russians were entirely defeated and put to flight. in a rout like this, the conquering army, maddened by rage and by all the other dreadful excitements of the contest, press on furiously upon their flying and falling foes, and destroy them with their bayonets in immense numbers before the officers can arrest them. indeed, the officers do not wish to arrest them until it is sure that the enemy is so completely overwhelmed that their rallying again is utterly impossible. in this case twenty thousand of the russian soldiers were left dead upon the field. the swedes, on the other hand, lost only two or three thousand. besides those who were killed, immense numbers were taken prisoners. general croy, and all the other principal generals in command, were among the prisoners. it is very probable that, if peter had not been absent at the time, he would himself have been taken too. the number of prisoners was so very great that it was not possible for the swedes to retain them, on account of the expense and trouble of feeding them, and keeping them warm at that season of the year; so they determined to detain the officers only, and to send the men away. in doing this, besides disarming the men, they adopted a very whimsical expedient for making them helpless and incapable of doing mischief on their march. they cut their clothes in such a manner that they could only be prevented from falling off by being held together by both hands; and the weather was so cold--the ground, moreover, being covered with snow--that the men could only save themselves from perishing by keeping their clothes around them. in this pitiful plight the whole body of prisoners were driven off, like a flock of sheep, by a small body of swedish soldiery, for a distance of about a league on the road toward russia, and then left to find the rest of the way themselves. the czar, when he heard the news of this terrible disaster, did not seem much disconcerted by it. he said that he expected to be beaten at first by the swedes. "they have beaten us once," said he, "and they may beat us again; but they will teach us in time to beat them." he immediately began to adopt the most efficient and energetic measures for organizing a new army. he set about raising recruits in all parts of the empire. he introduced many new foreign officers into his service; and to provide artillery, after exhausting all the other resources at his command, he ordered the great bells of many churches and monasteries to be taken down and cast into cannon. chapter xi. the building of st. petersburg. - continuation of the war--stratagems of the swedes--peculiar kind of boat--making a smoke--peter determines to build a city--the site--peter's first visit to the neva--cronstadt--a stratagem--contest on the island--peter examines the locality--he matures his plans--mechanics and artisans--ships and merchandise--laborers--the boyars--the building commenced--wharves and piers--palace--confusion--variety of labors--want of tools and implements--danger from the enemy--supplies of provisions--the supplies often fall short--consequent sickness--great mortality--peter's impetuosity of spirit--streets and buildings--private dwellings--what the king of sweden said--map--situation of cronstadt--peter plans a fortress--mode of laying the foundations--danger from the swedes--plan of their attack--the swedes beaten off--the attempt entirely fails--mechanics and artisans--various improvements--scientific institutions the struggle thus commenced between the czar peter and charles xii. of sweden, for the possession of the eastern shores of the baltic sea, continued for many years. at first the russians were every where beaten by the swedes; but at last, as peter had predicted, the king of sweden taught them to beat him. the commanders of the swedish army were very ingenious in expedients, as well as bold and energetic in action, and they often gained an advantage over their enemy by their wit as well as by their bravery. one instance of this was their contrivance for rendering their prisoners helpless on their march homeward after the battle of narva, by cutting their clothes in such a manner as to compel the men to keep both hands employed, as they walked along the roads, in holding them together. on another occasion, when they had to cross a river in the face of the russian troops posted on the other side, they invented a peculiar kind of boat, which was of great service in enabling them to accomplish the transit in safety. these boats were flat-bottomed and square; the foremost end of each of them was guarded by a sort of bulwark, formed of plank, and made very high. this bulwark was fixed on hinges at the lower end, so that it could be raised up and down. it was, of course, kept up during the passage across the river, and so served to defend the men in the boat from the shots of the enemy. but when the boat reached the shore it was let down, and then it formed a platform or bridge by which the men could all rush out together to the shore. at the same time, while they were getting these boats ready, and placing the men in them, the swedes, having observed that the wind blew across from their side of the river to the other, made great fires on the bank, and covered them with wet straw, so as to cause them to throw out a prodigious quantity of smoke. the smoke was blown over to the other side of the river, where it so filled the air as to prevent the russians from seeing what was going on. [illustration: stratagems of the swedes.] it was about a year after the first breaking out of the war that the tide of fortune began to turn, in some measure, in favor of the russians. about that time the czar gained possession of a considerable portion of the baltic shore; and as soon as he had done so, he conceived the design of laying the foundation of a new city there, with the view of making it the naval and commercial capital of his kingdom. this plan was carried most successfully into effect in the building of the great city of st. petersburg. the founding of this city was one of the most important transactions in peter's reign. indeed, it was probably by far the most important, and peter owes, perhaps, more of his great fame to this memorable enterprise than to any thing else that he did. the situation of st. petersburg will be seen by the map in the preceding chapter. at a little distance from the shore is a large lake, called the lake of ladoga. the outlet of the lake of ladoga is a small river called the neva. the lake of ladoga is supplied with water by many rivers, which flow into it from the higher lands lying to the northward and eastward of it; and it is by the neva that the surplus of these waters is carried off to the sea. the circumstances under which the attention of the czar was called to the advantages of this locality were these. he arrived on the banks of the neva, at some distance above the mouth of the river, in the course of his campaign against the swedes in the year . he followed the river down, and observed that it was pretty wide, and that the water was sufficiently deep for the purpose of navigation. when he reached the mouth of the river, he saw that, there was an island,[ ] at some distance from the shore, which might easily be fortified, and that, when fortified, it would completely defend the entrance to the stream. he took with him a body of armed men, and went off to the island in boats, in order to examine it more closely. the name of this island was then almost unknown, but it is now celebrated throughout the world as the seat of the renowned and impregnable fortress of cronstadt. there was a swedish ship in the offing at the time when peter visited the island, and this ship drew near to the island and began to fire upon it as soon as those on board saw that the russian soldiers had landed there. this cannonading drove the russians back from the shores, but instead of retiring from the island they went and concealed themselves behind some rocks. the swedes supposed that the russians had gone around to the other side of the island, and that they had there taken to their boats again and returned to the main land; so they determined to go to the island themselves, and examine it, in order to find out what the russians had been doing there. they accordingly let down their boats, and a large party of swedes embarking in them rowed to the island. soon after they had landed the russians rushed out upon them from their ambuscade, and, after a sharp contest, drove them back to their boats. several of the men were killed, but the rest succeeded in making their way to the ship, and the ship soon afterward weighed anchor and put to sea. peter was now at liberty to examine the island, the mouth of the river, and all the adjacent shores, as much as he pleased. he found that the situation of the place was well adapted to the purposes of a sea-port. the island would serve to defend the mouth of the river, and yet there was deep water along the side of it to afford an entrance for ships. the water, too, was deep in the river, and the flow of the current smooth. it is true that in many places the land along the banks of the river was low and marshy, but this difficulty could be remedied by the driving of piles for the foundation of the buildings, which had been done so extensively in holland. there was no town on the spot at the time of peter's visit to it, but only a few fishermen's huts near the outlet of the river, and the ruins of an old fort a few miles above. peter examined the whole region with great care, and came decidedly to the conclusion that he would make the spot the site of a great city. he matured his plans during the winter, and in the following spring he commenced the execution of them. the first building that was erected was a low one-story structure, made of wood, to be used as a sort of office and place of shelter for himself while superintending the commencement of the works that he had projected. this building was afterward preserved a long time with great care, as a precious relic and souvenir of the foundation of the city. the czar had sent out orders to the governments of the different provinces of the empire requiring each of them to send his quota of artificers and laborers to assist in building the city. this they could easily do, for in those days all the laboring classes of the people were little better than slaves, and were almost entirely at the disposal of the nobles, their masters. in the same manner he sent out agents to all the chief cities in western europe, with orders to advertise there for carpenters, masons, engineers, ship-builders, and persons of all the other trades likely to be useful in the work of building the city. these men were to be promised good wages and kind treatment, and were to be at liberty at any time to return to their respective homes. the agents also, at the same time, invited the merchants of the countries that they visited to send vessels to the new port, laden with food for the people that were to be assembled there, and implements for work, and other merchandise suitable for the wants of such a community. the merchants were promised good prices for their goods, and full liberty to come and go at their pleasure. the czar also sent orders to a great many leading boyars or nobles, requiring them to come and build houses for themselves in the new town. they were to bring with them a sufficient number of their serfs and retainers to do all the rough work which would be required, and money to pay the foreign mechanics for the skilled labor. the boyars were not at all pleased with this summons. they already possessed their town houses in moscow, with gardens and pleasure-grounds in the environs. the site for the new city was very far to the northward, in a comparatively cold and inhospitable climate; and they knew very well that, even if peter should succeed, in the end, in establishing his new city, several years must elapse before they could live there in comfort. still, they did not dare to do otherwise than to obey the emperor's summons. in consequence of all these arrangements and preparations, immense numbers of people came in to the site of the new city in the course of the following spring and summer. the numbers were swelled by the addition of the populations of many towns and villages along the coast that had been ravaged or destroyed by the swedes in the course of the war. the works were immediately commenced on a vast scale, and they were carried on during the summer with great energy. the first thing to be secured was, of course, the construction of the fortress which was to defend the town. there were wharves and piers to be built too, in order that the vessels bringing stores and provisions might land their goods. the land was surveyed, streets laid out, building lots assigned to merchants for warehouses and shops, and to the boyars for palaces and gardens. the boyars commenced the building of their houses, and the czar himself laid the foundation of an imperial palace. but, notwithstanding all the precautions which peter had taken to secure supplies of every thing required for such an undertaking, and to regulate the work by systematic plans and arrangements, the operations were for a time attended with a great deal of disorder and confusion, and a vast amount of personal suffering. for a long time there was no proper shelter for the laborers. men came to the ground much faster than huts could be built to cover them, and they were obliged to lie on the marshy ground without any protection from the weather. there was also a great scarcity of tools and implements suitable for the work that was required, in felling and transporting trees, and in excavating and filling up, where changes in the surface were required. in constructing the fortifications, for example, which, in the first instance, were made of earth, it was necessary to dig deep ditches and to raise great embankments. there was a great deal of the same kind of work necessary on the ground where the city was to stand before the work of erecting buildings could be commenced. there were dikes and levees to be made along the margin of the stream to protect the land from the inundations to which it was subject when the river was swollen with rains. there were roads to be made, and forests to be cleared away, and many other such labors to be performed. now, in order to employ at once the vast concourse of laborers that were assembled on the ground in such works as these, an immense number of implements were required, such as pickaxes, spades, shovels, and wheelbarrows; but so limited was the supply of these conveniences, that a great portion of the earth which was required for the dikes and embankments was brought by the men in their aprons, or in the skirts of their clothes, or in bags made for the purpose out of old mats, or any other material that came to hand. it was necessary to push forward the work promptly and without any delay, notwithstanding all these disadvantages, for the swedes were still off the coast with their ships, and no one knew how soon they might draw near and open a cannonade upon the place, or even land and attack the workmen in the midst of their labors. what greatly increased the difficulties of the case was the frequent falling short of the supply of provisions. the number of men to be fed was immensely large; for, in consequence of the very efficient measures which the czar had taken for gathering men from all parts of his dominions, it is said that there were not less than three hundred thousand collected on the spot in the course of the summer. and as there were at that time no roads leading to the place, all the supplies were necessarily to be brought by water. but the approach from the baltic side was well-nigh cut off by the swedes, who had at that time full possession of the sea. vessels could, however, come from the interior by way of lake ladoga; but when for several days or more the wind was from the west, these vessels were all kept back, and then sometimes the provisions fell short, and the men were reduced to great distress. to guard as much as possible against the danger of coming to absolute want at the times when the supplies were thus entirely cut off, the men were often put on short allowance beforehand. the emperor, it is true, was continually sending out requisitions for more food; but the men increased in number faster, after all, than the means for feeding them. the consequence was, that immense multitudes of them sickened and died. the scarcity of food, combined with the influence of fatigue and exposure--men half fed, working all day in the mud and rain, and at night sleeping without any shelter--brought on fevers and dysenteries, and other similar diseases, which always prevail in camps, and among large bodies of men exposed to such influences as these. it is said that not less than a hundred thousand men perished from these causes at st. petersburg in the course of the year. peter doubtless regretted this loss of life, as it tended to impede the progress of the work; but, after all, it was a loss which he could easily repair by sending out continually to the provinces for fresh supplies of men. those whom the nobles and governors selected from among the serfs and ordered to go had no option; they were obliged to submit. and thus the supply of laborers was kept full, notwithstanding the dreadful mortality which was continually tending to diminish it. if peter had been willing to exercise a little patience and moderation in carrying out his plans, it is very probable that most of this suffering might have been saved. if he had sent a small number of men to the ground the first year, and had employed them in opening roads, establishing granaries, and making other preliminary arrangements, and, in the mean time, had caused stores of food to be purchased and laid up, and ample supplies of proper tools and implements to be procured and conveyed to the ground, so as to have had every thing ready for the advantageous employment of a large number of men in the following year, every thing would, perhaps, have gone well. but the qualities of patience and moderation formed no part of peter's character. what he conceived of and determined to do must be done at once, at whatever cost; and a cost of human life seems to have been the one that he thought less of than any other. he rushed headlong on, notwithstanding the suffering which his impetuosity occasioned, and thus the hymn which solemnized the entrance into being of the new-born city was composed of the groans of a hundred thousand men, dying in agony, of want, misery, and despair. peter was a personal witness of this suffering, for he remained, during a great part of the time, on the ground, occupying himself constantly in superintending and urging on the operations. indeed, it is said that he acted himself as chief engineer in planning the fortifications, and in laying out the streets of the city. he drew many of the plans with his own hands; for, among the other accomplishments which he had acquired in the early part of his life, he had made himself quite a good practical draughtsman. when the general plan of the city had been determined upon, and proper places had been set apart for royal palaces and pleasure-grounds, and public edifices of all sorts that might be required, and also for open squares, docks, markets, and the like, a great many streets were thrown open for the use of any persons who might choose to build houses in them. a vast number of the mechanics and artisans who had been attracted to the place by the offers of the czar availed themselves of this opportunity to provide themselves with homes, and they proceeded at once to erect houses. a great many of the structures thus built were mere huts or shanties, made of any rude materials that came most readily to hand, and put up in a very hasty manner. it was sufficient that the tenement afforded a shelter from the rain, and that it was enough of a building to fulfill the condition on which the land was granted to the owner of it. the number of these structures was, however, enormous. it was said that in one year there were erected thirty thousand of them. there is no instance in the history of the world of so great a city springing into existence with such marvelous rapidity as this. during the time while peter was thus employed in laying the foundations of his new city, the king of sweden was carrying on the war in poland against the conjoined forces of russia and poland, which were acting together there as allies. when intelligence was brought to him of the operations in which peter was engaged on the banks of the neva, he said, "it is all very well. he may amuse himself as much as he likes in building his city there; but by-and-by, when i am a little at leisure, i will go and take it away from him. then, if i like the town, i will keep it; and if not, i will burn it down." [illustration: situation at st. petersburg.] peter, however, determined that it should not be left within the power of the king of sweden to take his town, or even to molest his operations in the building of it, if any precautions on his part could prevent it. he had caused a number of redoubts and batteries to be thrown up during the summer. these works were situated at different points near the outlet of the river, and on the adjacent shores. there was an island off the mouth of the river which stood in a suitable position to guard the entrance. this island was several miles distant from the place where the city was to stand, and it occupied the middle of the bay leading toward it. thus there was water on both sides of it, but the water was deep enough only on one side to allow of the passage of ships of war. peter now determined to construct a large and strong fortress on the shores of this island, placing it in such a position that the guns could command the channel leading up the bay. it was late in the fall when he planned this work, and the winter came on before he was ready to commence operations. this time for commencing was, however, a matter of design on his part, as the ice during the winter would assist very much, he thought, in the work of laying the necessary foundations; for the fortress was not to stand on the solid land, but on a sandbank which projected from the land on the side toward the navigable channel. the site of the fortress was to be about a cannon-shot from the and, where, being surrounded by shallow water on every side, it could not be approached either by land or sea. peter laid the foundations of this fortress on the ice by building immense boxes of timber and plank, and loading them with stones. when the ice melted in the spring these structures sank into the sand, and formed a stable and solid foundation on which he could afterward build at pleasure. this was the origin of the famous castle of cronstadt, which has since so well fulfilled its purpose that it has kept the powerful navies of europe at bay in time of war, and prevented their reaching the city. besides this great fortress, peter erected several detached batteries at different parts of the island, so as to prevent the land from being approached at all by the boats of the enemy. at length the king of sweden began to be somewhat alarmed at the accounts which he received of what peter was doing, and he determined to attack him on the ground, and destroy his works before he proceeded any farther with them. he accordingly ordered the admiral of the fleet to assemble his ships, to sail up the gulf of finland, and there attack and destroy the settlement which peter was making. the admiral made the attempt, but he found that he was too late. the works were advanced too far, and had become too strong for him. it was on the th of july, , that the russian scouts, who were watching on the shores of the bay, saw the swedish ships coming up. the fleet consisted of twenty-two men-of-war, and many other vessels. besides the forts and batteries, the russians had a number of ships of their own at anchor in the waters, and as the fleet advanced a tremendous cannonade was opened on both sides, the ships of the swedes against the ships and batteries of the russians. when the swedish fleet had advanced as far toward the island as the depth of the water would allow, they let down from the decks of their vessels a great number of flat-bottomed boats, which they had brought for the purpose, and filled them with armed men. their plan was to land these men on the island, and carry the russian batteries there at the point of the bayonet. but they did not succeed. they were received so hotly by the russians that, after an obstinate contest, they were forced to retreat. they endeavored to get back to their boats, but were pursued by the russians; and now, as their backs were turned, they could no longer defend themselves, and a great many were killed. even those that were not killed did not all succeed in making their escape. a considerable number, finding that they should not be able to get to the boats, threw down their arms, and surrendered themselves prisoners; and then, of course, the boats which they belonged to were taken. five of the boats thus fell into the hands of the russians. the others were rowed back with all speed to the ships, and then the ships withdrew. thus the attempt failed entirely. the admiral reported the ill success of his expedition to the king, and not long afterward another similar attempt was made, but with no better success than before. the new city was now considered as firmly established, and from this time it advanced very rapidly in wealth and population. peter gave great encouragement to foreign mechanics and artisans to come and settle in the town, offering to some lands, to others houses, and to others high wages for their work. the nobles built elegant mansions there in the streets set apart for them, and many public buildings of great splendor were planned and commenced. the business of building ships, too, was introduced on an extended scale. the situation was very favorable for this purpose, as the shores of the river afforded excellent sites for dock-yards, and the timber required could be supplied in great quantities from the shores of lake ladoga. in a very few years after the first foundation of the city, peter began to establish literary and scientific institutions there. many of these institutions have since become greatly renowned, and they contribute a large share, at the present day, to the _éclat_ which surrounds this celebrated city, and which makes it one of the most splendid and renowned of the european capitals. [ ] see map on page . chapter xii. the revolt of mazeppa. progress of the war--peter's fleet--the king of sweden's successes--peter wishes to make peace--the reply--plan changed--mazeppa and the cossacks--plans for reforming the cossacks--mazeppa opposes them--the quarrel--mazeppa's treasonable designs--the plot defeated--precautions of the czar--mazeppa's plans--he goes on step by step--he sends his nephew to the czar--the envoy is arrested--commotion among the cossacks--failure of the plot--mazeppa's trial and condemnation--the effigy--execution of the sentence upon the effigy--new chieftain chosen in the mean time the war with sweden went on. many campaigns were fought, for the contest was continued through several successive years. the king of sweden made repeated attempts to destroy the new city of st. petersburg, but without success. on the contrary, the town grew and prospered more and more; and the shelter and protection which the fortifications around it afforded to the mouth of the river and to the adjacent roadsteads enabled the czar to go on so rapidly in building new ships, and in thus increasing and strengthening his fleet, that very soon he was much stronger than the king of sweden in all the neighboring waters, so that he not only was able to keep the enemy very effectually at bay, but he even made several successful descents upon the swedish territory along the adjoining coasts. but, while the czar was thus rapidly increasing his power at sea, the king of sweden proved himself the strongest on land. he extended his conquests very rapidly in poland and in the adjoining provinces, and at last, in the summer of , he conceived the design of crossing the dnieper and threatening moscow, which was still peter's capital. he accordingly pushed his forces forward until he approached the bank of the river. he came up to it at a certain point, as if he was intending to cross there. peter assembled all his troops on the opposite side of the river at that point in order to oppose him. but the demonstration which the king made of an intention to cross at that point was only a pretense. he left a sufficient number of men there to make a show, and secretly marched away the great body of his troops in the night to a point about three miles farther up the river, where he succeeded in crossing with them before the emperor's forces had any suspicion of his real design. the russians, who were not strong enough to oppose him in the open field, were obliged immediately to retreat, and leave him in full possession of the ground. peter was now much alarmed. he sent an officer to the camp of the king of sweden with a flag of truce, to ask on what terms the king would make peace with him. but charles was too much elated with his success in crossing the river, and placing himself in a position from which he could advance, without encountering any farther obstruction, to the very gates of the capital, to be willing then to propose any terms. so he declined entering into any negotiation, saying only in a haughty tone "that he would treat with his brother peter at moscow." on mature reflection, however, he seems to have concluded that it would be more prudent for him not to march at once to moscow, and so he turned his course for a time toward the southward, in the direction of the crimea and the black sea. there was one secret reason which induced the king of sweden to move thus to the southward which peter did not for a time understand. the country of the cossacks lay in that direction, and the famous mazeppa, of whom some account has already been given in this volume, was the chieftain of the cossacks, and he, as it happened, had had a quarrel with the czar, and in consequence of it had opened a secret negotiation with the king of sweden, and had agreed that if the king would come into his part of the country he would desert the cause of the czar, and would come over to his side, with all the cossacks under his command. the cause of mazeppa's quarrel with the czar was this: he was one day paying a visit to his majesty, and, while seated at table, peter began to complain of the lawless and ungovernable character of the cossacks, and to propose that mazeppa should introduce certain reforms in the organization and discipline of the tribe, with a view of bringing them under more effectual control. it is probable that the reforms which he proposed were somewhat analogous to those which he had introduced so successfully into the armies under his own more immediate command. mazeppa opposed this suggestion. he said that the attempt to adopt such measures with the cossacks would never succeed; that the men were so wild and savage by nature, and so fixed in the rude and irregular habits of warfare to which they and their fathers had been so long accustomed, that they could never be made to submit to such restrictions as a regular military discipline would impose. peter, who never could endure the least opposition or contradiction to any of his ideas or plans, became quite angry with mazeppa on account of the objections which he made to his proposals, and, as was usual with him in such cases, he broke out in the most rude and violent language imaginable. he called mazeppa an enemy and a traitor, and threatened to have him impaled alive. it is true he did not really mean what he said, his words being only empty threats dictated by the brutal violence of his anger. still, mazeppa was very much offended. he went away from the czar's tent muttering his displeasure, and resolving secretly on revenge. soon after this mazeppa opened the communication above referred to with the king of sweden, and at last an agreement was made between them by which it was stipulated that the king was to advance into the southern part of the country, where, of course, the cossacks would be sent out to meet him, and then mazeppa was to revolt from the czar, and go over with all his forces to the king of sweden's side. by this means the czar's army was sure, they thought, to be defeated; and in this case the king of sweden was to remain in possession of the russian territory, while the cossacks were to retire to their own fortresses, and live thenceforth as an independent tribe. the plot seemed to be very well laid; but, unfortunately for the contrivers of it, it was not destined to succeed. in the first place, mazeppa's scheme of revolting with the cossacks to the enemy was discovered by the czar, and almost entirely defeated, before the time arrived for putting it into execution. peter had his secret agents every where, and through them he received such information in respect to mazeppa's movements as led him to suspect his designs. he said nothing, however, but manoeuvred his forces so as to have a large body of troops that he could rely upon always near mazeppa and the cossacks, and between them and the army of the swedes. he ordered the officers of these troops to watch mazeppa's movements closely, and to be ready to act against him at a moment's notice, should occasion require. mazeppa was somewhat disconcerted in his plans by this state of things; but he could not make any objection, for the troops thus stationed near him seemed to be placed there for the purpose of co-operating with him against the enemy. in the mean time, mazeppa cautiously made known his plans to the leading men among the cossacks as fast as he thought it prudent to do so. he represented to them how much better it would be for them to be restored to their former liberty as an independent tribe, instead of being in subjugation to such a despot as the czar. he also enumerated the various grievances which they suffered under russian rule, and endeavored to excite the animosity of his hearers as much as possible against peter's government. he found that the chief officers of the cossacks seemed quite disposed to listen to what he said, and to adopt his views. some of them were really so, and others pretended to be so for fear of displeasing him. at length he thought it time to take some measures for preparing the minds of the men generally for what was to come, and in order to do this he determined on publicly sending a messenger to the czar with the complaints which he had to make in behalf of his men. the men, knowing of this embassy, and understanding the grounds of the complaint which mazeppa was to make by means of it, would be placed, he thought, in such a position that, in the event of an unfavorable answer being returned, as he had no doubt would be the case, they could be the more easily led into the revolt which he proposed. mazeppa accordingly made out a statement of his complaints, and appointed his nephew a commissioner to proceed to head-quarters and lay them before the czar. the name of the nephew was warnarowski. as soon as warnarowski arrived at the camp, peter, instead of granting him an audience, and listening to the statement which he had to make, ordered him to be seized and sent to prison, as if he were guilty of a species of treason in coming to trouble his sovereign with complaints and difficulties at such a time, when the country was suffering under an actual invasion from a foreign enemy. as soon as mazeppa heard that his nephew was arrested, he was convinced that his plots had been discovered, and that he must not lose a moment in carrying them into execution, or all would be lost. he accordingly immediately put his whole force in motion to march toward the place where the swedish army was then posted, ostensibly for the purpose of attacking them. he crossed a certain river which lay between him and the swedes, and then, when safely over, he stated to his men what he intended to do. the men were filled with indignation at this proposal, which, being wholly unexpected, came upon them by surprise. they refused to join in the revolt. a scene of great excitement and confusion followed. a portion of the cossacks, those with whom mazeppa had come to an understanding beforehand, were disposed to go with him, but the rest were filled with vexation and rage. they declared that they would seize their chieftain, bind him hand and foot, and send him to the czar. indeed, it is highly probable that the two factions would have come soon to a bloody fight for the possession of the person of their chieftain, in which case he would very likely have been torn to pieces in the struggle, if those who were disposed to revolt had not fled before the opposition to their movement had time to become organized. mazeppa and those who adhered to him--about two thousand men in all--went over in a body to the camp of the swedes. the rest, led by the officers that still remained faithful, marched at once to the nearest body of russian forces, and put themselves under the command of the russian general there. a council of war was soon after called in the russian camp for the purpose of bringing mazeppa to trial. he was, of course, found guilty, and sentence of death--with a great many indignities to accompany the execution--was passed upon him. the sentence, however, could not be executed upon mazeppa himself, for he was out of the reach of his accusers, being safe in the swedish camp. so they made a wooden image or effigy to represent him, and inflicted the penalties upon the substitute instead. in the first place, they dressed the effigy to imitate the appearance of mazeppa, and put upon it representations of the medals, ribbons, and other decorations which he was accustomed to wear. they brought this figure out before the camp, in presence of the general and of all the leading officers, the soldiers being also drawn up around the spot. a herald appeared and read the sentence of condemnation, and then proceeded to carry it into execution, as follows. first, he tore mazeppa's patent of knighthood in pieces, and threw the fragments into the air. then he tore off the medals and decorations from the image, and, throwing them upon the ground, he trampled them under his feet. then he struck the effigy itself a blow by which it was overturned and left prostrate in the dust. the hangman then came up, and, tying a halter round the neck of the effigy, dragged it off to a place where a gibbet had been erected, and hanged it there. immediately after this ceremony, the cossacks, according to their custom, proceeded to elect a new chieftain in the place of mazeppa. the chieftain thus chosen came forward before the czar to take the oath of allegiance to him, and to offer him his homage. chapter xiii. the battle of pultowa. invasion of the swedes--their progress through the country--artificial roads--pultowa--fame of the battle--situation of pultowa--it is besieged--menzikoff--manoeuvres--menzikoff most successful--king charles wounded--the czar advances to pultowa--the king resolves to attack the camp--a battle determined upon--military rank of the czar--his address to the army--the litter--the battle--courage and fortitude of the king--the swedes defeated--narrow escape of the czar--he discovers the broken litter--escape of king charles--dreadful defeat--flight and adventures of the king--he offers now to make peace--the king's followers--peter's reply--carriage for the king--flight to the turkish frontier--sufferings of the retreating army--deputation sent to the turkish frontier--reception of the messenger--boats collected--crossing the river--bender--fate of the swedish army--the prisoners--anecdote of the czar--the czar's habits--disposition of the prisoners--adventures of the king of sweden--military promotion of the czar in the mean time, while these transactions had been taking place among the russians, the king of sweden had been gradually making his way toward the westward and southward, into the very heart of the russian dominions. the forces of the emperor, which were not strong enough to offer him battle, had been gradually retiring before him; but they had devastated and destroyed every thing on their way, in their retreat, so as to leave nothing for the support of the swedish army. they broke up all the bridges too, and obstructed the roads by every means in their power, so as to impede the progress of the swedes as much as possible, since they could not wholly arrest it. the swedes, however, pressed slowly onward. they sent off to great distances to procure forage for the horses and food for the men. when they found the bridges down, they made detours and crossed the rivers at fording-places. when the roads were obstructed, they removed the impediments if they could, and if not, they opened new roads. sometimes, in these cases, their way led them across swampy places where no solid footing could be found, and then the men would cut down an immense quantity of bushes and trees growing in the neighborhood, and make up the branches into bundles called _fascines_. they would lay these bundles close together on the surface of the swamp, and then level them off on the top by loose branches, and so make a road firm enough for the army to march over. things went on in this way until, at last, the farther progress of king charles was arrested, and the tide of fortune was turned wholly against him by a great battle which was fought at a place called pultowa. this battle, which, after so protracted a struggle, at length suddenly terminated the contest between the king and the czar, of course attracted universal attention at the time, for charles and peter were the greatest potentates and warriors of their age, and the struggle for power which had so long been waged between them had been watched with great interest, through all the stages of it, by the whole civilized world. the battle of pultowa was, in a word, one of those great final conflicts by which, after a long struggle, the fate of an empire is decided. it, of course, greatly attracted the attention of mankind, and has since taken its place among the most renowned combats of history. pultowa is a town situated in the heart of the russian territories three or four hundred miles north of the black sea. it stands on a small river which flows to the southward and westward into the dnieper. it was at that time an important military station, as it contained great arsenals where large stores of food and of ammunition were laid up for the use of peter's army. the king of sweden determined to take this town. his principal object in desiring to get possession of it was to supply the wants of his army by the provisions that were stored there. the place was strongly fortified, and it was defended by a garrison; but the king thought that he should be able to take it, and he accordingly advanced to the walls, invested the place closely on every side, and commenced the siege. the name of the general in command of the largest body of russian forces near the spot was menzikoff, and as soon as the king of sweden had invested the place, menzikoff began to advance toward it in order to relieve it. then followed a long series of manoeuvres and partial combats between the two armies, the swedes being occupied with the double duty of attacking the town, and also of defending themselves from menzikoff; while menzikoff, on the other hand, was intent, first on harassing the swedes and impeding as much as possible their siege operations, and, secondly, on throwing succors into the town. in this contest menzikoff was, on the whole, most successful. he contrived one night to pass a detachment of his troops through the gates of pultowa into the town to strengthen the garrison. this irritated the king of sweden, and made him more determined and reckless than ever to press the siege. under this excitement he advanced so near the walls one day, in a desperate effort to take possession of an advanced part of the works, that he exposed himself to a shot from the ramparts, and was badly wounded in the heel. this wound nearly disabled him. he was obliged by it to confine himself to his tent, and to content himself with giving orders from his couch or litter, where he lay helpless and in great pain, and in a state of extreme mental disquietude. his anxiety was greatly increased in a few days in consequence of intelligence which was brought into his camp by the scouts, that peter himself was advancing to the relief of pultowa at the head of a very large army. indeed, the tidings were that this great force was close at hand. the king found that he was in danger of being surrounded. nor could he well hope to escape the danger by a retreat, for the broad and deep river dnieper, which he had crossed to come to the siege of pultowa, was behind him, and if the russians were to fall upon him while attempting to cross it, he knew very well that his whole army would be cut to pieces. he lay restless on his litter in his tent, his thoughts divided between the anguish of the wound in his heel and the mental anxiety and distress produced by the situation that he was in. he spent the night in great perplexity and suffering. at length, toward morning, he came to the desperate resolution of attacking the russians in their camp, inferior as his own numbers were now to theirs. he accordingly sent a messenger to the field-marshal, who was chief officer in command under himself, summoning him to his tent. the field-marshal was aroused from his sleep, for it was not yet day, and immediately repaired to the king's tent. the king was lying on his couch, quiet and calm, and, with an air of great serenity and composure, he gave the marshal orders to beat to arms and march out to attack the czar in his intrenchments as soon as daylight should appear. the field-marshal was astonished at this order, for he knew that the russians were now far superior in numbers to the swedes, and he supposed that the only hope of the king would be to defend himself where he was in his camp, or else to attempt a retreat. he, however, knew that there was nothing to be done but to obey his orders. so he received the instructions which the king gave him, said that he would carry them into execution, and then retired. the king then at length fell into a troubled sleep, and slept until the break of day. by this time the whole camp was in motion. the russians, too, who in their intrenchments had received the alarm, had aroused themselves and were preparing for battle. the czar himself was not the commander. he had prided himself, as the reader will recollect, in entering the army at the lowest point, and in advancing regularly, step by step, through all the grades, as any other officer would have done. he had now attained the rank of major general; and though, as czar, he gave orders through his ministers to the commander-in-chief of the armies directing them in general what to do, still personally, in camp and in the field of battle, he received orders from his military superior there; and he took a pride and pleasure in the subordination to his superior's authority which the rules of the service required of him. he, however, as it seems, did not always entirely lay aside his imperial character while in camp, for in this instance, while the men were formed in array, and before the battle commenced, he rode to and fro along their lines, encouraging the men, and promising, as their sovereign, to bestow rewards upon them in proportion to the valor which they should severally display in the coming combat. the king of sweden, too, was raised from his couch, placed upon a litter, and in this manner carried along the lines of his own army just before the battle was to begin. he told the men that they were about to attack an enemy more numerous than themselves, but that they must remember that at narva eight thousand swedes had overcome a hundred thousand russians in their own intrenchments, and what they had done once, he said, they could do again. the battle was commenced very early in the morning. it was complicated at the beginning with many marches, countermarches, and manoeuvres, in which the several divisions of both the russian and swedish armies, and the garrison of pultowa, all took part. in some places and at some times the victory was on one side, and at others on the other. king charles was carried in his litter into the thickest of the battle, where, after a time, he became so excited by the contest that he insisted on being put upon a horse. the attendants accordingly brought a horse and placed him carefully upon it; but the pain of his wound brought on faintness, and he was obliged to be put back in his litter again. soon after this a cannon ball struck the litter and dashed it to pieces. the king was thrown out upon the ground. those who saw him fall supposed that he was killed, and they were struck with consternation. they had been almost overpowered by their enemies before, but they were now wholly disheartened and discouraged, and they began to give way and fly in all directions. the king had, however, not been touched by the ball which struck the litter. he was at once raised from the ground by the officers around him, and borne away out of the immediate danger. he remonstrated earnestly against being taken away, and insisted upon making an effort to rally his men; but the officers soon persuaded him that for the present, at least, all was lost, and that the only hope for him was to make his escape as soon as possible across the river, and thence over the frontier into turkey, where he would be safe from pursuit, and could then consider what it would be best to do. the king at length reluctantly yielded to these persuasions, and was borne away. in the mean time, the czar himself had been exposed to great danger in the battle, and, like the king of sweden, had met with some very narrow escapes. his hat was shot through with a bullet which half an inch lower would have gone through the emperor's head. general menzikoff had three horses shot under him. but, notwithstanding these dangers, the czar pressed on into the thickest of the fight, and was present at the head of his men when the swedes were finally overwhelmed and driven from the field. indeed, he was among the foremost who pursued them; and when he came to the place where the royal litter was lying, broken to pieces, on the ground, he expressed great concern for the fate of his enemy, and seemed to regret the calamity which had befallen him as if charles had been his friend. he had always greatly admired the courage and the military skill which the king of sweden had manifested in his campaigns, and was disposed to respect his misfortunes now that he had fallen. he supposed that he was unquestionably killed, and he gave orders to his men to search every where over the field for the body, and to guard it, when found, from any farther violence or injury, and take charge of it, that it might receive an honorable burial. the body was, of course, not found, for the king was alive, and, with the exception of the wound in his heel, uninjured. he was borne off from the field by a few faithful adherents, who took him in their arms when the litter was broken up. as soon as they had conveyed him in this manner out of immediate danger, they hastily constructed another litter in order to bear him farther away. he was himself extremely unwilling to go. he was very earnest to make an effort to rally his men, and, if possible, save his army from total ruin. but he soon found that it was in vain to attempt this. his whole force had been thrown into utter confusion; and the broken battalions, flying in every direction, were pursued so hotly by the russians, who, in their exultant fury, slaughtered all whom they could overtake, and drove the rest headlong on in a state of panic and dismay which was wholly uncontrollable. of course some escaped, but great numbers were taken prisoners. many of the officers, separated from their men, wandered about in search of the king, being without any rallying point until they could find him. after suffering many cruel hardships and much exposure in the lurking-places where they attempted to conceal themselves, great numbers of them were hunted out by their enemies and made prisoners. in the mean time, those who had the king under their charge urged his majesty to allow them to convey him with all speed out of the country. the nearest way of escape was to go westward to the turkish frontier, which, as has already been said, was not far distant, though there were three rivers to cross on the way--the dnieper, the bog, and the dniester. the king was very unwilling to listen to this advice. peter had several times sent a flag of truce to him since he had entered into the russian dominions, expressing a desire to make peace, and proposing very reasonable terms for charles to accede to. to all these proposals charles had returned the same answer as at first, which was, that he should not be ready to treat with the czar until he arrived at moscow. charles now said that, before abandoning the country altogether, he would send a herald to the russian camp to say that he was now willing to make peace on the terms which peter had before proposed to him, if peter was still willing to adhere to them. charles was led to hope that this proposal might perhaps be successful, from the fact that there was a portion of his army who had not been engaged at pultowa that was still safe; and he had no doubt that a very considerable number of men would succeed in escaping from pultowa and joining them. indeed, the number was not small of those whom the king had now immediately around him, for all that escaped from the battle made every possible exertion to discover and rejoin the king, and so many straggling parties came that he soon had under his command a force of one or two thousand men. this was, of course, but a small remnant of his army. still, he felt that he was not wholly destitute of means and resources for carrying on the struggle in case peter should refuse to make peace. so he sent a trumpeter to peter's camp with the message; but peter sent word back that his majesty's assent to the terms of peace which he had proposed to him came too late. the state of things had now, he said, entirely changed; and as charles had ventured to penetrate into the russian country without properly considering the consequences of his rashness, he must now think for himself how he was to get out of it. for his part, he added, he had got the birds in the net, and he should do all in his power to secure them. after due consultation among the officers who were with the king, it was finally determined that it was useless to think for the present of any farther resistance, and the king, at last, reluctantly consented to be conveyed to the turkish frontier. he was too ill from the effects of his wound to ride on horseback, and the distance was too great for him to be conveyed in a litter. so they prepared a carriage for him. it was a carriage which belonged to one of his generals, and which, by some means or other, had been saved in the flight of the army. the route which they were to take led across the country where there were scarcely any roads, and a team of twelve horses was harnessed to draw the carriage which conveyed the king. no time was to be lost. the confused mass of officers and men who had escaped from the battle, and had succeeded in rejoining the king, were marshaled into something like a military organization, and the march, or rather the flight, commenced. the king's carriage, attended by such a guard as could be provided for it, went before, and was followed by the remnant of the army. some of the men were on horseback, others were on foot, and others still, sick or wounded, were conveyed on little wagons of the country, which were drawn along in a very difficult and laborious manner. [illustration: flight of the king of sweden.] this mournful train moved slowly on across the country, seeking, of course, the most retired and solitary ways to avoid pursuit, and yet harassed by the continual fear that the enemy might at any time come up with them. the men all suffered exceedingly from want of food, and from the various other hardships incident to their condition. many became so worn out by fatigue and privation that they could not proceed, and were left by the road sides to fall into the hands of the enemy, or to perish of want and exhaustion; while those who still had strength enough remaining pressed despairingly onward, but little less to be pitied than those who were left behind. when at length the expedition drew near to the turkish borders, the king sent forward a messenger to the pasha in command on the frontier, asking permission for himself and his men to pass through the turkish territory on his way to his own dominions. he had every reason to suppose that the pasha would grant this request, for the turks and russians had long been enemies, and he knew very well that the sympathies of the turks had been entirely on his side in this war. nor was he disappointed in his expectations. the pasha received the messenger very kindly, offered him food, and supplied all his wants. he said, moreover, that he would not only give the king leave to enter and pass through the turkish territories, but he would give him efficient assistance in crossing the river which formed the frontier. this was, indeed, necessary, for a large detachment of the russian army which had been sent in pursuit of the swedes was now coming close upon them, and there was danger of their being overtaken and cut to pieces or taken prisoners before they should have time to cross the stream. the principal object which the czar had in view in sending a detachment in pursuit of the fugitives was the hope of capturing the king himself. he spoke of this his design to the swedish officers who were already his prisoners, saying to them jocosely, for he was in excellent humor with every body after the battle, "i have a great desire to see my brother the king, and to enjoy his society; so i have sent to bring him. you will see him here in a few days." the force dispatched for this purpose had been gradually gaining upon the fugitives, and was now very near, and the pasha, on learning the facts, perceived that the exigency was very urgent. he accordingly sent off at once up and down the river to order all the boats that could be found to repair immediately to the spot where the king of sweden wished to cross. a considerable number of boats were soon collected, and the passage was immediately commenced. the king and his guards were brought over safely, and also a large number of the officers and men. but the boats were, after all, so few that the operation proceeded slowly, and the russians, who had been pressing on with all speed, arrived at the banks of the river in time to interrupt it before all the troops had passed, and thus about five hundred men fell into their hands. they were all made prisoners, and the king had the mortification of witnessing the spectacle of their capture from the opposite bank, which he had himself reached in safety. the king was immediately afterward conveyed to bender, a considerable town not far from the frontier, where, for the present, he was safe, and where he remained quiet for some weeks, in order that his wound might have opportunity to heal. peter was obliged to content himself with postponing for a time the pleasure which he expected to derive from the enjoyment of his brother's society. the portion of the swedish army which remained in russia was soon after this surrounded by so large a russian force that the general in command was forced to capitulate, and all the troops were surrendered as prisoners of war. thus, in all, a great number of prisoners, both of officers and men, fell into peter's hands. the men were sent to various parts of the empire, and distributed among the people, in order that they might settle permanently in the country, and devote themselves to the trades or occupations to which they had been trained in their native land. the officers were treated with great kindness and consideration. peter often invited them to his table, and conversed with them in a very free and friendly manner in respect to the usages and customs which prevailed in their own country, especially those which related to the military art. still, they were deprived of their swords and kept close prisoners. one day, when some of these officers were dining with peter in his tent, and he had been for some time conversing with them about the organization and discipline of the swedish army, and had expressed great admiration for the military talent and skill which they had displayed in the campaigns which they had fought, he at last poured out some wine and drank to the health of "his masters in the art of war." one of the officers who was present asked who they were that his majesty was pleased to honor with so great a title. "it is yourselves, gentlemen," replied the czar; "the swedish generals. it is you who have been my best instructors in the art of war." "then," replied the officer, "is not your majesty a little ungrateful to treat the masters to whom you owe so much so severely?" peter was so much pleased with the readiness and wit of this reply, that he ordered the swords of the officers all to be restored to them. it is said that he even unbuckled his own sword from his side and presented it to one of the generals. it ought, perhaps, to be added, however, that the habit of drinking to excess, which peter seems to have formed early in life, had before this time become quite confirmed, and he often became completely intoxicated at his convivial entertainments, so that it is not improbable that the sudden generosity of the czar on this occasion may have been due, in a considerable degree, to the excitement produced by the brandy which he had been drinking. although the swords of the officers were thus restored to them, they were themselves still held as prisoners until arrangements could be made for exchanging them. in order, however, that they might all be properly provided for, he distributed them around among his own generals, giving to each russian officer the charge of a swedish officer of his own rank, granting, of course, to each one a proper allowance for the maintenance and support of his charge. the russian generals were severally responsible for the safe-keeping of their prisoners; but the surveillance in such cases is never strict, for it is customary for the prisoners to give their _parole_ of honor that they will not attempt to escape, and then they are allowed, within reasonable limits, their full personal liberty, so that they live more like the guests and companions of their keepers than as their captives. the king of sweden met with many remarkable adventures and encountered very serious difficulties before he reached his own kingdom, but it would be foreign to the subject of this history to relate them here. as to mazeppa, he made his escape too, with the king of sweden, across the frontier. the czar offered a very large reward to whoever should bring him back, either dead or alive; but he never was taken. he died afterward at constantinople at a great age. one of the most curious and characteristic results which followed from the battle of pultowa was the promotion of peter in respect to his rank in the army. it was gravely decided by the proper authorities, after due deliberation, that in consequence of the vigor and bravery which he had displayed on the field, and of the danger which he had incurred in having had a shot through his hat, he deserved to be advanced a grade in the line of promotion. so he was made a major general. thus ended the great swedish invasion of russia, which was the occasion of the greatest and, indeed, of almost the only serious danger, from any foreign source, which threatened the dominions of peter during the whole course of his reign. chapter xiv. the empress catharine. - duration of the war with sweden--catharine--her origin--destitution--her kind teacher--dr. gluck--she goes to marienburg--her character--mode of life at marienburg--her lover--his person and character--catharine is married--the town captured--catharine made prisoner--her anxiety and sorrow--the russian general--catharine saved--catharine in the general's service--seen by menzikoff--transferred to his service--transferred to the czar--privately married--affairs on the pruth--the emperor's danger--catharine in camp--a bribe--catharine saves her husband--the vizier's excuses--a public marriage determined on--arrangements--the little bridesmaids--wedding ceremonies--festivities and rejoicings--birth of catharine's son--importance of the event--the baptism--dwarfs in the pies--influence of catharine over her husband--use which she made of her power--peter's jealousy--dreadful punishment--catharine's usefulness to the czar--her imperfect education--her final exaltation to the throne it was about the year that peter the great commenced his reign, and he died in , as will appear more fully in the sequel of this volume. thus the duration of the reign was thirty-five years. the wars between russia and sweden occupied principally the early part of the reign through a period of many years. the battle of pultowa, by which the swedish invasion of the russian territories was repelled, was fought in , nearly twenty years after the czar ascended the throne. during the period while the czar was thus occupied in his mortal struggle with the king of sweden, there appeared upon the stage, in connection with him, a lady, who afterward became one of the most celebrated personages of history. this lady was the empress catharine. the character of this lady, the wonderful and romantic incidents of her life, and the great fame of her exploits, have made her one of the most celebrated personages of history. we can, however, here only give a brief account of that portion of her life which was connected with the history of peter. catharine was born in a little village near the town of marienburg, in livonia.[ ] her parents were in very humble circumstances, and they both died when she was a little child, leaving her in a very destitute and friendless condition. the parish clerk, who was the teacher of a little school in which perhaps she had been a pupil--for she was then four or five years old--felt compassion for her, and took her home with him to his own house. he was the more disposed to do this as catharine was a bright child, full of life and activity, and, at the same time, amiable and docile in disposition, so that she was easily governed. after catharine had been some time at the house of the clerk, a certain dr. gluck, who was the minister of marienburg, happening to be on a visit to the clerk, saw her and heard her story. the minister was very much pleased with the appearance and manners of the child, and he proposed that the clerk should give her up to him. this the clerk was willing to do, as his income was very small, and the addition even of such a child to his family of course somewhat increased his expenses. besides, he knew that it would be much more advantageous for catharine, for the time being, and also much more conducive to her future success in life, to be brought up in the minister's family at marienburg than in his own humble home in the little village. so catharine went to live with the minister.[ ] here she soon made herself a great favorite. she was very intelligent and active, and very ambitious to learn whatever the minister's wife was willing to teach her. she also took great interest in making herself useful in every possible way, and displayed in her household avocations, and in all her other duties, a sort of womanly energy which was quite remarkable in one of her years. she learned to knit, to spin, and to sew, and she assisted the minister's wife very much in these and similar occupations. she had learned to read in her native tongue at the clerk's school, but now she conceived the idea of learning the german language. she devoted herself to this task with great assiduity and success, and as soon as she had made such progress as to be able to read in that language, she spent all her leisure time in perusing the german books which she found in the minister's library. years passed away, and catharine grew up to be a young woman, and then a certain young man, a subaltern officer in the swedish army--for this was at the time when livonia was ill possession of the swedes--fell in love with her. the story was, that catharine one day, in some way or other, fell into the hands of two swedish soldiers, by whom she would probably have been greatly maltreated; but the officer, coming by at that time, rescued her and sent her safe to dr. gluck. the officer had lost one of his arms in some battle, and was covered with the scars of other wounds; but he was a very generous and brave man, and was highly regarded by all who knew him. when he offered catharine his hand, she was strongly induced by her gratitude to him to accept it, but she said she must ask the minister's approval of his proposal, for he had been a father to her, she said, and she would take no important step without his consent. the minister, after suitable inquiry respecting the officer's character and prospects, readily gave his consent, and so it was settled that catharine should be married. now it happened that these occurrences took place not very long after the war broke out between sweden and russia, and almost immediately after catharine's marriage--some writers say on the very same day of the wedding, and others on the day following--a russian army came suddenly up to marienburg, took possession of the town, and made a great many of the inhabitants prisoners. catharine herself was among the prisoners thus taken. the story was, that in the confusion and alarm she hid herself with others in an oven, and was found by the russian soldiers there, and carried off as a valuable prize. what became of the bridegroom is not certainly known. he was doubtless called suddenly to his post when the alarm was given of the enemy's approach, and a great many different stories were told in respect to what afterward befell him. one thing is certain, and that is, that his young bride never saw him again.[ ] catharine, when she found herself separated from her husband and shut up a helpless prisoner with a crowd of other wretched and despairing captives, was overwhelmed with grief at the sad reverse of fortune that had befallen her. she had good reason not only to mourn for the happiness which she had lost, but also to experience very anxious and gloomy forebodings in respect to what was before her, for the main object of the russians in making prisoners of the young and beautiful women which they found in the towns that they conquered, was to send them to turkey, and to sell them there as slaves. catharine was, however, destined to escape this dreadful fate. one of the russian generals, in looking over the prisoners, was struck with her appearance, and with the singular expression of grief and despair which her countenance displayed. he called her to him and asked her some questions; and he was more impressed by the intelligence and good sense which her answers evinced than he had been by the beauty of her countenance. he bid her quiet her fears, promising that he would himself take care of her. he immediately ordered some trusty men to take her to his tent, where there were some women who would take charge of and protect her. these women were employed in various domestic occupations in the service of the general. catharine began at once to interest herself in these employments, and to do all in her power to assist in them; and at length, as one of the writers who gives an account of these transactions goes on to say, "the general, finding catharine very proper to manage his household affairs, gave her a sort of authority and inspection over these women and over the rest of the domestics, by whom she soon came to be very much beloved by her manner of using them when she instructed them in their duty. the general said himself that he never had been so well served as since catharine had been with him. "it happened one day that prince menzikoff, who was the general's commanding officer and patron, saw catharine, and, observing something very extraordinary in her air and behavior, asked the general who she was and in what condition she served him. the general related to him her story, taking care, at the same time, to do justice to the merit of catharine. the prince said that he was himself very ill served, and had occasion for just such a person about him. the general replied that he was under too great obligations to his highness the prince to refuse him any thing that he asked. he immediately called catharine into his presence, and told her that that was prince menzikoff, and that he had occasion for a servant like herself, and that he was able to be a much better friend to her than he himself could be, and that he had too much kindness for her to prevent her receiving such a piece of honor and good fortune. "catharine answered only with a profound courtesy, which showed, if not her consent to the change proposed, at least her conviction that it was not then in her power to refuse the offer that was made to her. in short, prince menzikoff took her with him, or she went to him the same day." catharine remained in the service of the prince for a year or two, and was then transferred from the household of the prince to that of the czar almost precisely in the same way in which she had been resigned to the prince by the general. the czar saw her one day while he was at dinner with the prince, and he was so much pleased with her appearance, and with the account which the prince gave him of her character and history, that he wished to have her himself; and, however reluctant the prince may have been to lose her, he knew very well that there was no alternative for him but to give his consent. so catharine was transferred to the household of the czar. she soon acquired a great ascendency over the czar, and in process of time she was privately married to him. this private marriage took place in . for several years afterward the marriage was not publicly acknowledged; but still catharine's position was well understood, and her power at court, as well as her personal influence over her husband, increased continually. catharine sometimes accompanied the emperor in his military campaigns, and at one time was the means, it is thought, of saving him from very imminent danger. it was in the year . the czar was at that time at war with the turks, and he had advanced into the turkish territory with a small, but very compact and well-organized army. the turks sent out a large force to meet him, and at length, after various marchings and manoeuvrings, the czar found himself surrounded by a turkish force three times as large as his own. the russians fortified their camp, and the turks attacked them. the latter attempted for two or three successive days to force the russian lines, but without success, and at length the grand vizier, who was in command of the turkish troops, finding that he could not force his enemy to quit their intrenchments, determined to starve them out; so he invested the place closely on all sides. the czar now gave himself up for lost, for he had only a very small stock of provisions, and there seemed no possible way of escape from the snare in which he found himself involved. catharine was with her husband in the camp at this time, having had the courage to accompany him in the expedition, notwithstanding its extremely dangerous character, and the story is that she was the means of extricating him from his hazardous position by dextrously bribing the vizier. the way in which she managed the affair was this. she arranged it with the emperor that he was to propose terms of peace to the vizier, by which, on certain conditions, he was to be allowed to retire with his army. catharine then secretly made up a very valuable present for the vizier, consisting of jewels, costly decorations, and other such valuables belonging to herself, which, as was customary in those times, she had brought with her on the expedition, and also a large sum of money. this present she contrived to send to the vizier at the same time with the proposals of peace made by the emperor. the vizier was extremely pleased with the present, and he at once agreed to the conditions of peace, and thus the czar and all his army escaped the destruction which threatened them. the vizier was afterward called to account for having thus let off his enemies so easily when he had them so completely in his power; but he defended himself as well as he could by saying that the terms on which he had made the treaty were as good as could be obtained in any way, adding, hypocritically, that "god commands us to pardon our enemies when they ask us to do so, and humble themselves before us." in the mean time, years passed away, and the emperor and catharine lived very happily together, though the connection which subsisted between them, while it was universally known, was not openly or publicly recognized. in process of time they had two or three children, and this, together with the unassuming but yet faithful and efficient manner in which catharine devoted herself to her duties as wife and mother, strengthened the bond which bound her to the czar, and at length, in the year , peter determined to place her before the world in the position to which he had already privately and unofficially raised her, by a new and public marriage. it was not pretended, however, that the czar was to be married to catharine now for the first time, but the celebration was to be in honor of the nuptials long before performed. accordingly, in the invitations that were sent out, the expression used to denote the occasion on which the company was to be convened was "to celebrate his majesty's old wedding." the place where the ceremony was to be performed was st. petersburg, for this was now many years after st. petersburg had been built. [illustration: the empress catharine.] very curious arrangements were made for the performance of this extraordinary ceremony. the czar appeared in the dress and character of an admiral of the fleet, and the other officers of the fleet, instead of the ministers of state and great nobility, were made most prominent on the occasion, and were appointed to the most honorable posts. this arrangement was made partly, no doubt, for the purpose of doing honor to the navy, which the czar was now forming, and increasing the consideration of those who were connected with it in the eyes of the country. as catharine had no parents living, it was necessary to appoint persons to act in their stead "to give away the bride." it was to the vice admiral and the rear admiral of the fleet that the honor of acting in this capacity was assigned. they represented the bride's father, while peter's mother, the empress dowager, and the lady of the vice admiral of the fleet represented her mother. two of catharine's own daughters were appointed bridesmaids. their appointment was, however, not much more than an honorary one, for the children were very young, one of them being five and the other only three years old. they appeared for a little time pending the ceremony, and then, becoming tired, they were taken away, and their places supplied by two young ladies of the court, nieces of the czar. the wedding ceremony itself was performed at seven o'clock in the morning, in a little chapel belonging to prince menzikoff, and before a small company, no person being present at that time except those who had some official part to perform. the great wedding party had been invited to meet at the czar's palace later in the day. after the ceremony had been performed in the chapel, the emperor and empress went from the chapel into menzikoff's palace, and remained there until the time arrived to repair to the palace of the czar. then a grand procession was formed, and the married pair were conducted through the streets to their own palace with great parade. as it was winter, the bridal party were conveyed in sleighs instead of carriages. these sleighs, or sledges as they were called, were very elegantly decorated, and were drawn by six horses each. the procession was accompanied by a band of music, consisting of trumpets, kettle-drums, and other martial instruments. the entertainment at the palace was very splendid, and the festivities were concluded in the evening by a ball. the whole city, too, was lighted up that night with bonfires and illuminations. three years after this public solemnization of the marriage the empress gave birth to a son. peter was perfectly overjoyed at this event. it is true that he had one son already, who was born of his first wife, who was called the czarewitz, and whose character and melancholy history will be the subject of the next chapter. but this was the first son among the children of catharine. she had had only daughters before. it was in the very crisis of the difficulties which the czar had with his eldest son, and when he was on the point of finally abandoning all hope of ever reclaiming him from his vices and making him a fit inheritor of the crown, that this child of catharine's was born. these circumstances, which will be explained more fully in the next chapter, gave great political importance to the birth of catharine's son, and peter caused the event to be celebrated with great public rejoicings. the rejoicings were continued for eight days, and at the baptism of the babe, two kings, those of denmark and of prussia, acted as godfathers. the name given to the child was peter petrowitz. the baptism was celebrated with the greatest pomp, and it was attended with banquetings and rejoicings of the most extraordinary character. among other curious contrivances were two enormous pies, one served in the room of the gentlemen and the other in that of the ladies; for, according to the ancient russian custom on such occasions, the sexes were separated at the entertainments, tables being spread for the ladies and for the gentlemen in different halls. from the ladies' pie there stepped out, when it was opened, a young dwarf, very small, and clothed in a very slight and very fantastic manner. the dwarf brought out with him from the pie some wine-glasses and a bottle of wine. taking these in his hand, he walked around the table drinking to the health of the ladies, who received him wherever he came with screams of mingled surprise and laughter. it was the same in the gentlemen's apartment, except that the dwarf which appeared before the company there was a female. the birth of this son formed a new and very strong bond of attachment between peter and catharine, and it increased very much the influence which she had previously exerted over him. the influence which she thus exercised was very great, and it was also, in the main, very salutary. she alone could approach the czar in the fits of irritation and anger into which he often fell when any thing displeased him, and sometimes, when his rage and fury were such, that no one else would have dared to come near, catharine knew how to quiet and calm him, and gradually bring him back again to reason. she had great power over him, too, in respect to the nervous affection--the convulsive twitchings of the head and face--to which he was subject. indeed, it was said that the soothing and mysterious influence of her gentle nursing in allaying these dreadful spasms, and relieving the royal patient from the distress which they occasioned, gave rise to the first feeling of attachment which he formed for her, and which led him, in the end, to make her his wife. catharine often exerted the power which she acquired over her husband for noble ends. a great many persons, who from time to time excited the displeasure of the czar, were rescued from undeserved death, and sometimes from sufferings still more terrible than death, by her interposition. in many ways she softened the asperities of peter's character, and lightened the heavy burden of his imperial despotism. every one was astonished at the ascendency which she acquired over the violent and cruel temper of her husband, and equally pleased with the good use which she made of her power. there was not, however, always perfect peace between catharine and her lord. catharine was compelled sometimes to endure great trials. on one occasion the czar took it into his head, with or without cause, to feel jealous. the object of his jealousy was a certain officer of his court whose name was de la croix. peter had no certain evidence, it would seem, to justify his suspicions, for he said nothing openly on the subject, but he at once caused the officer to be beheaded on some other pretext, and ordered his head to be set up on a pole in a great public square in moscow. he then took catharine out into the square, and conveyed her to and fro in all directions across it, in order that she might see the head in every point of view. catharine understood perfectly well what it all meant, but, though thunderstruck and overwhelmed with grief and horror at the terrible spectacle, she succeeded in maintaining a perfect self-control through the whole scene, until, at length, she was released, and allowed to return to her apartment, when she burst into tears, and for a long time could not be comforted or calmed. with the exception of an occasional outbreak like this, the czar evinced a very strong attachment to his consort, and she continued to live with him a faithful and devoted wife for nearly twenty years; from the period of her private marriage, in fact, to the death of her husband. during all this time she was continually associated with him not only in his personal and private, but also in his public avocations and cares. she accompanied him on his journeys, she aided him with her counsels in all affairs of state. he relied a great deal on her judgment in all questions of policy, whether internal or external; and he took counsel with her in all matters connected with his negotiations with foreign states, with the sending and receiving of embassies, the making of treaties with them, and even, when occasion occurred, in determining the question of peace or war. and yet, notwithstanding the lofty qualities of statesmanship that catharine thus displayed in the counsel and aid which she rendered her husband, the education which she had received while at the minister's in marienburg was so imperfect that she never learned to write, and whenever, either during her husband's life or after his death, she had occasion to put her signature to letters or documents of any kind, she did not attempt to write the name herself, but always employed one of her daughters to do it for her. at length, toward the close of his reign, peter, having at that time no son to whom he could intrust the government of his empire after he was gone, caused catharine to be solemnly crowned as empress, with a view of making her his successor on the throne. but before describing this coronation it is necessary first to give an account of the circumstances which led to it, by relating the melancholy history of alexis, peter's oldest son. [ ] the situation of the place is shown in the map on page . [ ] the accounts which different historians give of the circumstances of catharine's early history vary very materially. one authority states that the occasion of gluck's taking catharine away was the death of the curate and of all his family by the plague. gluck came, it is said, to the house to see the family, and found them all dead. the bodies were lying on the floor, and little catharine was running about among them, calling upon one after another to give her some bread. after gluck came in, and while he was looking at the bodies in consternation, she came up behind him and pulled his robe, and asked him if he would not give her some bread. so he took her with him to his own home. [ ] there was a story that he was taken among the prisoners at the battle of pultowa, and that, on making himself known, he was immediately put in irons and sent off in exile to siberia. chapter xv. the prince alexis. - birth of alexis--his father's hopes--advantages enjoyed by alexis--marriage proposed--account of the wedding--alexis returns to russia--cruel treatment of his wife--her hardships and sufferings--the czar's displeasure--birth of a son--cruel neglect--the czar sent for--death-bed scene--grief of the attendants--the princess's despair--high rank no guarantee for happiness--peter's ultimatum--letter to alexis--positive declarations contained in it--the real ground of complaint--alexis's excuses--his reply to his father--he surrenders his claim to the crown--another letter from the czar--new threats--more positive declarations--alexis's answer--real state of his health--his depraved character--the companions and counselors of alexis--priests--designs of alexis's companions--general policy of an opposition--the old muscovite party--views of alexis--peter at a loss--one more final determination--farewell conversation--alexis's duplicity--letter from copenhagen--alternative offered--peter's unreasonable severity--alexis made desperate--alexis's resolution the reader will perhaps recollect that peter had a son by his first wife, an account of whose birth was given in the first part of this volume. the name of this son was alexis, and he was destined to become the hero of a most dreadful tragedy. the narrative of it forms a very dark and melancholy chapter in the history of his father's reign. alexis was born in the year . in the early part of his life his father took great interest in him, and made him the centre of a great many ambitious hopes and projects. of course, he expected that alexis would be his successor on the imperial throne, and he took great interest in qualifying him for the duties that would devolve upon him in that exalted station. while he was a child his father was proud of him as his son and heir, and as he grew up he hoped that he would inherit his own ambition and energy, and he took great pains to inspire him with the lofty sentiments appropriate to his position, and to train him to a knowledge of the art of war. but alexis had no taste for these things, and his father could not, in any possible way, induce him to take any interest in them whatever. he was idle and spiritless, and nothing could arouse him to make any exertion. he spent his time in indolence and in vicious indulgences. these habits had the effect of undermining his health, and increasing more and more his distaste for the duties which his father wished him to perform. the czar tried every possible means to produce a change in the character of his son, and to awaken in him something like an honorable ambition. to this end he took alexis with him in his journeys to foreign countries, and introduced him to the reigning princes of eastern europe, showed him their capitals, explained to him the various military systems which were adopted by the different powers, and made him acquainted with the principal personages in their courts. but all was of no avail. alexis could not be aroused to take an interest in any thing but idle indulgences and vice. at length, when alexis was about twenty years of age, that is, in the year , his father conceived the idea of trying the effect of marriage upon him. so he directed his son to make choice of a wife. it is not improbable that he himself really selected the lady. at any rate, he controlled the selection, for alexis was quite indifferent in respect to the affair, and only acceded to the plan in obedience to his father's commands. the lady chosen for the bride was a polish princess, named charlotta christina sophia, princess of wolfenbuttel, and a marriage contract, binding the parties to each other, was executed with all due formality. two years after this marriage contract was formed the marriage was celebrated. alexis was then about twenty-two years of age, and the princess eighteen. the wedding, however, was by no means a joyful one. alexis had not improved in character since he had been betrothed, and his father continued to be very much displeased with him. peter was at one time so angry as to threaten that, if his son did not reform his evil habits, and begin to show some interest in the performance of his duties, he would have his head shaved and send him to a convent, and so make a monk of him. how far the princess herself was acquainted with the facts in respect to the character of her husband it is impossible to say, but every body else knew them very well. the emperor was in very bad humor. the princess's father wished to arrange for a magnificent wedding, but the czar would not permit it. the ceremony was accordingly performed in a very quiet and unostentatious way, in one of the provincial towns of poland, and after it was over alexis went home with his bride to her paternal domains. the marriage of alexis to the polish princess took place the year before his father's public marriage with his second wife, the empress catharine. as peter had anticipated, the promises of reform which alexis had made on the occasion of his marriage failed totally of accomplishment. after remaining a short time in poland with his wife, conducting himself there tolerably well, he set out on his return to russia, taking his wife with him. but no sooner had he got back among his old associates than he returned to his evil ways, and soon began to treat his wife with the greatest neglect and even cruelty. he provided a separate suite of apartments for her in one end of the palace, while he himself occupied the other end, where he could be at liberty to do what he pleased without restraint. sometimes a week would elapse without his seeing his wife at all. he purchased a small slave, named afrosinia, and brought her into his part of the palace, and lived with her there in the most shameless manner, while his neglected wife, far from all her friends, alone, and almost broken-hearted, spent her time in bitterly lamenting her hard fate, and gradually wearing away her life in sorrow and tears. she was not even properly provided with the necessary comforts of life. her rooms were neglected, and suffered to go out of repair. the roof let in the rain, and the cold wind in the winter penetrated through the ill-fitted windows and doors. alexis paid no heed to these things; but, leaving his wife to suffer, spent his time in drinking and carousing with afrosinia and his other companions in vice. during all this time the attention of the czar was so much engaged with the affairs of the empire that he could not interfere efficiently. sometimes he would upbraid alexis for his undutiful and wicked behavior, and threaten him severely; but the only effect of his remonstrances would be to cause alexis to go into the apartment of his wife as soon as his father had left him, and assail her in the most abusive manner, overwhelming her with rude and violent reproaches for having, as he said, made complaints to his father, or "told tales," as he called it, and so having occasioned his father to find fault with him. this the princess would deny. she would solemnly declare that she had not made any complaints whatever. alexis, however, would not believe her, but would repeat his denunciations, and then go away in a rage. this state of things continued for three or four years. during that time the princess had one child, a daughter; and at length the time arrived when she was to give birth to a son; but even the approach of such a time of trial did not awaken any feeling of kind regard or compassion on the part of her husband. his neglect still continued. no suitable arrangements were made for the princess, and she received no proper attention during her confinement. the consequence was, that, in a few days after the birth of the child, fever set in, and the princess sank so rapidly under it that her life was soon despaired of. when she found that she was about to die, she asked that the czar might be sent for to come and see her. peter was sick at this time, and almost confined to his bed; but still--let it be remembered to his honor--he would not refuse this request. a bed, or litter, was placed for him on a sort of truck, and in this manner he was conveyed to the palace where the princess was lying. she thanked him very earnestly for coming to see her, and then begged to commit her children, and the servants who had come with her from her native land, and who had remained faithful to her through all her trials, to his protection and care. she kissed her children, and took leave of them in the most affecting manner, and then placed them in the arms of the czar. the czar received them very kindly. he then bade the mother farewell, and went away, taking the children with him. all this time, the room in which the princess was lying, the antechamber, and all the approaches to the apartment, were filled with the servants and friends of the princess, who mourned her unhappy fate so deeply that they were unable to control their grief. they kneeled or lay prostrate on the ground, and offered unceasing petitions to heaven to save the life of their mistress, mingling their prayers with tears, and sobs, and bitter lamentations. the physicians endeavored to persuade the princess to take some medicines which they had brought, but she threw the phials away behind the bed, begging the physicians not to torment her any more, but to let her die in peace, as she had no wish to live. she lingered after this a few days, spending most of her time in prayer, and then died. at the time of her death the princess was not much over twenty years of age. her sad and sorrowful fate shows us once more what unfortunately we too often see exemplified, that something besides high worldly position in a husband is necessary to enable the bride to look forward with any degree of confidence to her prospects of happiness when receiving the congratulations of her friends on her wedding-day. the death of his wife produced no good effect upon the mind of alexis. at the funeral, the czar his father addressed him in a very stern and severe manner in respect to his evil ways, and declared to him positively that, if he did not at once reform and thenceforth lead a life more in conformity with his position and his obligations, he would cut him off from the inheritance to the crown, even if it should be necessary, on that account, to call in some stranger to be his heir. the communication which the czar made to his son on this occasion was in writing, and the terms in which it was expressed were very severe. it commenced by reciting at length the long and fruitless efforts which the czar had made to awaken something like an honorable ambition in the mind of his son, and to lead him to reform his habits, and concluded, substantially, as follows: "how often have i reproached you with the obstinacy of your temper and the perverseness of your disposition! how often, even, have i corrected you for them! and now, for how many years have i desisted from speaking any longer of them! but all has been to no purpose. my reproofs have been fruitless. i have only lost my time and beaten the air. you do not so much as strive to grow better, and all your satisfaction seems to consist in laziness and inactivity. "having, therefore, considered all these things, and fully reflected upon them, as i see i have not been able to engage you by any motives to do as you ought, i have come to the conclusion to lay before you, in writing, this my last determination, resolving, however, to wait still a little longer before i come to a final execution of my purpose, in order to give you one more trial to see whether you will amend or no. if you do not, i am fully resolved to cut you off from the succession. "do not think that because i have no other son i will not really do this, but only say it to frighten you. you may rely upon it that i will certainly do what i say; for, as i spare not my own life for the good of my country and the safety of my people, why should i spare you, who will not take the pains to make yourself worthy of them? i shall much prefer to transmit this trust to some worthy stranger than to an unworthy son. "(signed with his majesty's own hand), "peter." the reader will observe, from the phraseology of these concluding paragraphs, what is made still more evident by the perusal of the whole letter, that the great ground of peter's complaint against his son was not his immorality and wickedness, but his idleness and inefficiency. if he had shown himself an active and spirited young man, full of military ardor, and of ambition to rule, he might probably, in his private life, have been as vicious and depraved as he pleased without exciting his father's displeasure. but peter was himself so full of ambition and energy, and he had formed, moreover, such vast plans for the aggrandizement of the empire, many of which could only be commenced during his lifetime, and must depend for their full accomplishment on the vigor and talent of his successor, that he had set his heart very strongly on making his son one of the first military men of the age; and he now lost all patience with him when he saw him stupidly neglecting the glorious opportunity before him, and throwing away all his advantages, in order to spend his time in ease and indulgence, thus thwarting and threatening to render abortive some of his father's favorite and most far-reaching plans. the excuse which alexis made for his conduct was the same which bad boys often offer for idleness and delinquency, namely, his ill health. his answer to his father's letter was as follows. it was not written until two or three weeks after his father's letter was received, and in that interim a son was born to the empress catharine, as related in the last chapter. it is to this infant son that alexis alludes in his letter: "my clement lord and father,-- "i have read the writing your majesty gave me on the th of october, , after the interment of my late spouse. "i have nothing to reply to it but that if it is your majesty's pleasure to deprive me of the crown of russia by reason of my inability--your will be done. i even earnestly request it at your majesty's hands, as i do not think myself fit for the government. my memory is much weakened, and without it there is no possibility of managing affairs. my mind and body are much decayed by the distempers to which i have been subject, which renders me incapable of governing so many people, who must necessarily require a more vigorous man at their head than i am. "for which reason i should not aspire to the succession of the crown of russia after you--whom god long preserve--even though i had no brother, as i have at present, whom i pray god also to preserve. nor will i ever hereafter lay claim to the succession, as i call god to witness by a solemn oath, in confirmation whereof i write and sign this letter with my own hand. "i give my children into your hands, and, for my part, desire no more than a bare maintenance so long as i live, leaving all the rest to your consideration and good pleasure. "your most humble servant and son, "alexis." the czar did not immediately make any rejoinder to the foregoing communication from his son. during the fall and winter months of that year he was much occupied with public affairs, and his health, moreover, was quite infirm. at length, however, about the middle of june, he wrote to his son as follows: "my son,--as my illness hath hitherto prevented me from letting you know the resolutions i have taken with reference to the answer you returned to my former letter, i now send you my reply. i observe that you there speak of the succession as though i had need of your consent to do in that respect what absolutely depends on my own will. but whence comes it that you make no mention of your voluntary indolence and inefficiency, and the aversion you constantly express to public affairs, which i spoke of in a more particular manner than of your ill health, though the latter is the only thing you take notice of? i also expressed my dissatisfaction with your whole conduct and mode of life for some years past. but of this you are wholly silent, though i strongly insisted upon it. "from these things i judge that my fatherly exhortations make no impression upon you. for this reason i have determined to write this letter to you, and it shall be the last. "i don't find that you make any acknowledgment of the obligation you owe to your father who gave you life. have you assisted him, since you came to maturity of years, in his labors and pains? no, certainly. the world knows that you have not. on the other hand, you blame and abhor whatever of good i have been able to do at the expense of my health, for the love i have borne to my people, and for their advantage, and i have all imaginable reason to believe that you will destroy it all in case you should survive me. "i can not let you continue in this way. either change your conduct, and labor to make yourself worthy of the succession, or else take upon you the monastic vow. i can not rest satisfied with your present behavior, especially as i find that my health is declining. as soon, therefore, as you shall have received this my letter, let me have your answer in writing, or give it to me yourself in person. if you do not, i shall at once proceed against you as a malefactor.--(signed) peter." to this communication alexis the next day returned the following reply: "most clement lord and father,-- "i received yesterday in the morning your letter of the th of this month. my indisposition will not allow me to write a long answer. i shall enter upon a monastic life, and beg your gracious consent for so doing. "your most humble servant and son, "alexis." there is no doubt that there was some good ground for the complaints which alexis made with respect to his health. his original constitution was not vigorous, and he had greatly impaired both his mental and physical powers by his vicious indulgences. still, his excusing himself so much on this ground was chiefly a pretense, his object being to gain time, and prevent his father from coming to any positive decision, in order that he might continue his life of indolence and vice a little longer undisturbed. indeed, it was said that the incapacity to attend to the studies and perform the duties which his father required of him was mainly due to his continual drunkenness, which kept him all the time in a sort of brutal stupor. nor was the fault wholly on his side. his father was very harsh and severe in his treatment of him, and perhaps, in the beginning, made too little allowance for the feebleness of his constitution. neither of the two were sincere in what they said about alexis becoming a monk. peter, in threatening to send him to a monastery, only meant to frighten him; and alexis, in saying that he wished to go, intended only to circumvent his father, and save himself from being molested by him any more. he knew very well that his becoming a monk would be the last thing that his father would really desire. besides, alexis was surrounded by a number of companions and advisers, most of them lewd and dissolute fellows like himself, but among them were some much more cunning and far-sighted than he, and it was under their advice that he acted in all the measures that he took, and in every thing that he said and did in the course of this quarrel with his father. among these men were several priests, who, like the rest, though priests, were vile and dissolute men. these priests, and alexis's other advisers, told him that he was perfectly safe in pretending to accede to his father's plan to send him to a monastery, for his father would never think of such a thing as putting the threat in execution. besides, if he did, it would do no harm; for the vows that he would take, though so utterly irrevocable in the case of common men, would all cease to be of force in his case, in the event of his father's death, and his succeeding to the throne. and, in the mean time, he could go on, they said, taking his ease and pleasure, and living as he had always done. many of the persons who thus took sides with alexis, and encouraged him in his opposition to his father, had very deep designs in so doing. they were of the party who opposed the improvements and innovations which peter had introduced, and who had in former times made the princess sophia their head and rallying-point in their opposition to peter's policy. it almost always happens thus, that when, in a monarchical country, there is a party opposed to the policy which the sovereign pursues, the disaffected persons endeavor, if possible, to find a head, or leader, in some member of the royal family itself, and if they can gain to their side the one next in succession to the crown, so much the better. to this end it is for their interest to foment a quarrel in the royal family, or, if the germ of a quarrel appears, arising from some domestic or other cause, to widen the breach as much as possible, and avail themselves of the dissension to secure the name and the influence of the prince or princess thus alienated from the king as their rallying-point and centre of action. this was just the case in the present instance. the old muscovite party, as it was called, that is, the party opposed to the reforms and changes which peter had made, and to the foreign influences which he had introduced into the realm, gathered around alexis. some of them, it was said, began secretly to form conspiracies for deposing peter, raising alexis nominally to the throne, and restoring the old order of things. peter knew all this, and the fears which these rumors excited in his mind greatly increased his anxiety in respect to the course which alexis was pursuing and the exasperation which he felt against his son. indeed, there was reason to believe that alexis himself, so far as he had any political opinions, had adopted the views of the malcontents. it was natural that he should do so, for the old order of things was much better adapted to the wishes and desires of a selfish and dissolute despot, who only valued his exaltation and power for the means of unlimited indulgence in sensuality and vice which they afforded. it was this supposed bias of alexis's mind against his father's policy of reform that peter referred to in his letter when he spoke of alexis's desire to thwart him in his measures and undo all that he had done. when he received alexis's letter informing him that he was ready to enter upon the monastic life whenever his father pleased, peter was for a time at a loss what to do. he had no intention of taking alexis at his word, for in threatening to make a monk of him he had only meant to frighten him. for a time, therefore, after receiving this reply, he did nothing, but only vented his anger in useless imprecations and mutterings. peter was engaged at this time in very important public affairs arising out of the wars in which he was engaged with some foreign nations, and important negotiations which were going on with others. not long after receiving the short letter from alexis last cited, he was called upon to leave russia for a time, to make a journey into central europe. before he went away he called to see alexis, in order to bid him adieu, and to state to him once more what he called his final determination. alexis, when he heard that his father was coming, got into his bed, and received him in that way, as if he were really quite sick. peter asked him what conclusion he had come to. alexis replied, as before, that he wished to enter a monastery, and that he was ready to do so at any time. his father remonstrated with him long and earnestly against this resolution. he represented in strong terms the folly of a young man like himself, in the prime of his years, and with such prospects before him, abandoning every thing, and shutting himself up all his days to the gloomy austerities of a monastic life; and he endeavored to convince him how much better it would be for him to change his course of conduct, to enter vigorously upon the fulfillment of his duties as a son and as a prince, and prepare himself for the glorious destiny which awaited him on the russian throne. finally, the czar said that he would give him six months longer to consider of it, and then, bidding him farewell, went away. as soon as he was gone alexis rose from his bed, and went away to an entertainment with some of his companions. he doubtless amused them during the carousal by relating to them what had taken place during the interview with his father, and how earnestly the czar had argued against his doing what he had begun originally with threatening to make him do. the czar's business called him to copenhagen. while there he received one or two letters from alexis, but there was nothing in them to denote any change in his intentions, and, finally, toward the end of the summer, the czar wrote him again in the following very severe and decided manner: "copenhagen, aug. th, . "my son,--your first letter of the th of june, and your next of the th of july, were brought to me. as in them you speak only of the condition of your health, i send you the present letter to tell you that i demanded of you your resolution upon the affair of the succession when i bade you farewell. you then answered me, in your usual manner, that you judged yourself incapable of it by reason of your infirmities, and that you should choose rather to retire into a convent. i bade you seriously consider of it again, and then send me the resolution you should take. i have expected it for these seven months, and yet have heard nothing of you concerning it. you have had time enough for consideration, and, therefore, as soon as you shall receive my letter, resolve on one side or on the other. "if you determine to apply yourself to your duties, and qualify yourself for the succession, i wish you to leave petersburg and to come to me here within a week, so as to be here in time to be present at the opening of the campaign; but if, on the other hand, you resolve upon the monastic life, let me know when, where, and on what day you will execute your resolution, so that my mind may be at rest, and that i may know what to expect of you. send me back your final answer by the same courier that shall bring you my letter. "be particular to let me know the day when you will set out from petersburg, if you conclude to come to me, and, if not, precisely when you will perform your vow. i again tell you that i absolutely insist that you shall determine upon something, otherwise i shall conclude that you are only seeking to gain time in order that you may spend it in your customary laziness.--peter." when we consider that alexis was at this time a man nearly thirty years of age, and himself the father of a family, we can easily imagine that language like this was more adapted to exasperate him and make him worse than to win him to his duty. he was, in fact, driven to a species of desperation by it, and he so far aroused himself from his usual indolence and stupidity as to form a plan, in connection with some of his evil advisers, to make his escape from his father's control entirely by secretly absconding from the country, and seeking a retreat under the protection of some foreign power. the manner in which he executed this scheme, and the consequences which finally resulted from it, will be related in the next chapter. chapter xvi. the flight of alexis. alexis resolves to escape--alexis makes arrangements for flight--secrecy--alexis deceives afrosinia--how alexis obtained the money--alexander kikin--alexis sets out on his journey--meets kikin--arrangements--plans matured--kikin's cunning contrivances--false letters--kikin and alexis concert their plans--possibility of being intercepted--more prevarications--arrival at vienna--the czar sends for alexis--interview with the envoys--threats of alexis--he returns to naples--st. elmo--long negotiations--alexis resolves at last to return--his letter to his father--alexis delivers himself up when alexis received the letter from his father at copenhagen, ordering him to proceed at once to that city and join his father there, or else to come to a definite and final conclusion in respect to the convent that he would join, he at once determined, as intimated in the last chapter, that he would avail himself of the opportunity to escape from his father's control altogether. under pretense of obeying his father's orders that he should go to copenhagen, he could make all the necessary preparations for leaving the country without suspicion, and then, when once across the frontier, he could go where he pleased. he determined to make his escape to a foreign court, with a view of putting himself under the protection there of some prince or potentate who, from feelings of rivalry toward his father, or from some other motive, might be disposed, he thought, to espouse his cause. he immediately began to make arrangements for his flight. what the exact truth is in respect to the arrangements which he made could never be fully ascertained, for the chief source of information in respect to them is from confessions which alexis made himself after he was brought back. but in these confessions he made such confusion, first confessing a little, then a little more, then contradicting himself, then admitting, when the thing had been proved against him, what he had before denied, that it was almost impossible to disentangle the truth from his confused and contradictory declarations. the substance of the case was, however, as follows: in the first place, he determined carefully to conceal his design from all except the two or three intimate friends and advisers who originally counseled him to adopt it. he intended to take with him his concubine afrosinia, and also a number of domestic servants and other attendants, but he did not allow any of them to know where he was going. he gave them to understand that he was going to copenhagen to join his father. he was afraid that, if any of those persons were to know his real design, it would, in some way or other, be divulged. as to afrosinia, he was well aware that she would know that he could not intend to take her to copenhagen into his father's presence, and so he deceived her as to his real design, and induced her to set out with him, without suspicion, by telling her that he was only going to take her with him a part of the way. she was only to go, he said, as far as riga, a town on the shores of the baltic, on the way toward copenhagen. alexis was the less inclined to make a confidante of afrosinia from the fact that she had never been willingly his companion. she was a finland girl, a captive taken in war, and preserved to be sold as a slave on account of her beauty. when she came into the possession of alexis he forced her to submit to his will. she was a slave, and it was useless for her to resist or complain. it is said that alexis only induced her to yield to him by drawing his knife and threatening to kill her on the spot if she made any difficulty. thus, although he seems to have become, in the end, strongly attached to her, he never felt that she was really and cordially on his side. he accordingly, in this case, concealed from her his real designs, and told her he was only going to take her with him a little way. he would then send her back, he said, to petersburg. so afrosinia made arrangements to accompany him without feeling any concern. alexis obtained all the money that he required by borrowing considerable sums of the different members of the government and friends of his father, under pretense that he was going to his father at copenhagen. he showed them the letter which his father had written him, and this, they thought, was sufficient authority for them to furnish him with the money. he borrowed in this way various sums of different persons, and thus obtained an abundant supply. the largest sum which he obtained from any one person was two thousand ducats, which were lent him by prince menzikoff, a noble who stood very high in peter's confidence, and who had been left by him chief in command during his absence. the prince gave alexis some advice, too, about the arrangements which he was to make for his journey, supposing all the time that he was really going to copenhagen. the chief instigator and adviser of alexis in this affair was a man named alexander kikin. this kikin was an officer of high rank in the navy department, under the government, and the czar had placed great confidence in him. but he was inclined to espouse the cause of the old muscovite party, and to hope for a revolution that would bring that party again into power. he was not at this time in st. petersburg, but had gone forward to provide a place of retreat for alexis. alexis was to meet him at the town of libau, which stands on the shores of the baltic sea, between st. petersburg and konigsberg, on the route which alexis would have to take in going to copenhagen. alexis communicated with kikin in writing, and kikin arranged and directed all the details of the plan. he kept purposely at a distance from alexis, to avoid suspicion. at length, when all was ready, alexis set out from st. petersburg, taking with him afrosinia and several other attendants, and journeyed to libau. there he met kikin, and each congratulated the other warmly on the success which had thus far attended their operations. alexis asked kikin what place he had provided for him, and kikin replied that he had made arrangements for him to go to vienna. he had been to vienna himself, he said, under pretense of public business committed to his charge by the czar, and had seen and conferred with the emperor of germany there, and the emperor agreed to receive and protect him, and not to deliver him up to his father until some permanent and satisfactory arrangement should have been made. "so you must go on," continued kikin, "to konigsberg and dantzic; and then, instead of going forward toward copenhagen, you will turn off on the road to vienna, and when you get there the emperor will provide a safe place of retreat for you. when you arrive there, if your father should find out where you are, and send some one to try to persuade you to return home, you must not, on any account, listen to him; for, as certain as your father gets you again in his power, after your leaving the country in this way, he will have you beheaded." kikin contrived a number of very cunning devices for averting suspicion from himself and those really concerned in the plot, and throwing it upon innocent persons. among other things, he induced alexis to write several letters to different individuals in st. petersburg--prince menzikoff among the rest--thanking them for the advice and assistance that they had rendered him in setting out upon his journey, which advice and assistance was given honestly, on the supposition that he was really going to his father at copenhagen. the letters of thanks, however, which kikin dictated were written in an ambiguous and mysterious manner, being adroitly contrived to awaken suspicion in peter's mind, if he were to see them, that these persons were in the secret of alexis's plans, and really intended to assist him in his escape. when the letters were written alexis delivered them to kikin, who at some future time, in case of necessity, was to show them to peter, and pretend that he had intercepted them. thus he expected to avert suspicion from himself, and throw it upon innocent persons. kikin also helped alexis about writing a letter to his father from libau, saying to him that he left st. petersburg, and had come so far on his way toward copenhagen. this letter was, however, not dated at libau, where alexis then was, but at konigsberg, which was some distance farther on, and it was sent forward to be transmitted from that place. when alexis had thus arranged every thing with kikin, he prepared to set out on his journey again. he was to go on first to konigsberg, then to dantzic, and there, instead of embarking on board a ship to go to copenhagen, according to his father's plan, he was to turn off toward vienna. it was at that point, accordingly, that his actual rebellion against his father's commands would begin. he had some misgivings about being able to reach that point. he asked kikin what he should do in case his father should have sent somebody to meet him at konigsberg or dantzic. "why, you must join them in the first instance," said kikin, "and pretend to be much pleased to meet them; and then you must contrive to make your escape from them in the night, either entirely alone, or only with one servant. you must abandon your baggage and every thing else. "or, if you can not manage to do this," continued kikin, "you must pretend to be sick; and if there are two persons sent to meet you, you can send one of them on before, with your baggage and attendants, promising yourself to come on quietly afterward with the other; and then you can contrive to bribe the other, or in some other way induce him to escape with you, and so go to vienna." alexis did not have occasion to resort to either of these expedients, for nobody was sent to meet him. he journeyed on without any interruption till he came to konigsberg, which was the place where the road turned off to vienna. it was now necessary to say something to afrosinia and his other attendants to account for the new direction which his journey was to take; so he told them that he had received a letter from his father, ordering him, before proceeding to copenhagen, to go to vienna on some public business which was to be done there. accordingly, when he turned off, they accompanied him without any apparent suspicion. alexis proceeded in this way to vienna, and there he appealed to the emperor for protection. the emperor received him, listened to the complaints which he made against the czar--for alexis, as might have been expected, cast all the blame of the quarrel upon his father--and, after entertaining him for a while in different places, he provided him at last with a secret retreat in a fortress in the tyrol. here alexis concealed himself, and it was a long time before his father could ascertain what had become of him. at length the czar learned that he was in the emperor's dominions, and he wrote with his own hand a very urgent letter to the emperor, representing the misconduct of alexis in its true light, and demanding that he should not harbor such an undutiful and rebellious son, but should send him home. he sent two envoys to act as the bearers of this letter, and to bring alexis back to his father in case the emperor should conclude to surrender him. the emperor communicated the contents of this letter to alexis, but alexis begged him not to comply with his father's demand. he said that the difficulty was owing altogether to his father's harshness and cruelty, and that, if he were to be sent back, he should be in danger of his life from his father's violence. after long negotiations and delays, the emperor allowed the envoys to go and visit alexis in the place of his retreat, with a view of seeing whether they could not prevail upon him to return home with them. the envoys carried a letter to alexis which his father had written with his own hand, representing to him, in strong terms, the impropriety and wickedness of his conduct, and the enormity of the crime which he had committed against his father by his open rebellion against his authority, and denouncing against him, if he persisted in his wicked course, the judgment of god, who had threatened in his word to punish disobedient children with eternal death. but all these appeals had no effect upon the stubborn will of alexis. he declared to the envoys that he would not return with them, and he said, moreover, that the emperor had promised to protect him, and that, if his father continued to persecute him in this way, he would resist by force, and, with the aid which the emperor would render him, he would make war upon his father, depose him from his power, and raise himself to the throne in his stead. after this there followed a long period of negotiation and delay, during which many events occurred which it would be interesting to relate if time and space permitted. alexis was transferred from one place to another, with a view of eluding any attempt which his father might make to get possession of him again, either by violence or stratagem, and at length was conveyed to naples, in italy, and was concealed in the castle of st. elmo there. in the mean time peter grew more and more urgent in his demands upon the emperor to deliver up his son, and the emperor at last, finding that the quarrel was really becoming serious, and being convinced, moreover, by the representations which peter caused to be made to him, that alexis had been much more to blame than he had supposed, seemed disposed to change his ground, and began now to advise alexis to return home. alexis was quite alarmed when he found that, after all, he was not to be supported in his rebellion by the emperor, and at length, after a great many negotiations, difficulties, and delays, he determined to make a virtue of necessity and to go home. his father had written him repeated letters, promising him a free pardon if he would return, and threatening him in the most severe and decided manner if he did not. to the last of these letters, when alexis had finally resolved to go back, he wrote the following very meek and submissive reply. it was written from naples in october, : "my clement lord and father,-- "i have received your majesty's most gracious letter by messrs. tolstoi and rumanrow,[ ] in which, as also by word of mouth, i am most graciously assured of pardon for having fled without your permission in case i return. i give you most hearty thanks with tears in my eyes, and own myself unworthy of all favor. i throw myself at your feet, and implore your clemency, and beseech you to pardon my crimes, for which i acknowledge that i deserve the severest punishment. but i rely on your gracious assurances, and, submitting to your pleasure, shall set out immediately from naples to attend your majesty at petersburg with those whom your majesty has sent. "your most humble and unworthy servant, who deserves not to be called your son, "alexis." after having written and dispatched this letter alexis surrendered himself to tolstoi and rumanrow, and in their charge set out on his return to russia, there to be delivered into his father's hands; for peter was now in russia, having returned there as soon as he heard of alexis's flight. [ ] these were the envoys, officers of high rank in the government, whom peter had sent to bring alexis back. chapter xvii. the trial. - his father's manifesto on his return--interview between alexis and his father--anger of the czar--substantial cause for peter's excitement--grand councils convened--scene in the hall--conditional promise of pardon--alexis humbled--secret conference--alexis disinherited--the new heir--oaths administered--alexis imprisoned--investigation commenced--prisoners--the torture--arrest of kikin--the page--he fails to warn kikin in time--condemnation of prisoners--executions--dishonest confessions of alexis--his excesses--result of the examinations--proofs against alexis--an admission--testimony of afrosinia as soon as alexis arrived in the country, his father issued a manifesto, in which he gave a long and full account of his son's misdemeanors and crimes, and of the patient and persevering, but fruitless efforts which he himself had made to reclaim him, and announced his determination to cut him off from the succession to the crown as wholly and hopelessly irreclaimable. this manifesto was one of the most remarkable documents that history records. it concluded with deposing alexis from all his rights as son and heir to his father, and appointing his younger brother peter, the little son of catharine, as inheritor in his stead; and finally laying the paternal curse upon alexis if he ever thereafter pretended to, or in any way claimed the succession of which he had been deprived. this manifesto was issued as soon as peter learned that alexis had arrived in the country under the charge of the officers who had been appointed to bring him, and before the czar had seen him. alexis continued his journey to moscow, where the czar then was. when he arrived he went that same night to the palace, and there had a long conference with his father. he was greatly alarmed and overawed by the anger which his father expressed, and he endeavored very earnestly, by expressions of penitence and promises of amendment, to appease him. but it was now too late. the ire of the czar was thoroughly aroused, and he could not be appeased. he declared that he was fully resolved on deposing his son, as he had announced in his manifesto, and that the necessary steps for making the act of deposition in a formal and solemn manner, so as to give it full legal validity as a measure of state, would be taken on the following day. it must be confessed that the agitation and anger which peter now manifested were not wholly without excuse, for the course which alexis had pursued had been the means of exposing his father to a great and terrible danger--to that, namely, of a rebellion among his subjects. peter did not even know but that such a rebellion was already planned and was ripe for execution, and that it might not break out at any time, notwithstanding his having succeeded in recovering possession of the person of alexis, and in bringing him home. of such a rebellion, if one had been planned, the name of alexis would have been, of course, the watch-word and rallying-point, and peter had a great deal of ground for apprehension that such a one had been extensively organized and was ready to be carried into effect. he immediately set himself at work to ferret out the whole affair, resolving, however, in the first place, to disable alexis himself from doing any farther mischief by destroying finally and forever all claims on his part to the inheritance of the crown. accordingly, on the following morning, before daybreak, the garrison of the city were put under arms, and a regiment of the guards was posted around the palace, so as to secure all the gates and avenues; and orders were sent, at the same time, to the principal ministers, nobles, and counselors of state, to repair to the great hall in the castle, and to the bishops and clergy to assemble in the cathedral. every body knew that the occasion on which they were convened was that they might witness the disinheriting of the prince imperial by his father, in consequence of his vices and crimes; and in coming together in obedience to the summons, the minds of all men were filled with solemn awe, like those of men assembling to witness an execution. when the appointed hour arrived the great bell was tolled, and alexis was brought into the hall of the castle, where the nobles were assembled, bound as a prisoner, and deprived of his sword. the czar himself stood at the upper end of the hall, surrounded by the chief officers of state. alexis was brought before him. as he approached he presented a writing to his father, and then fell down on his knees before him, apparently overwhelmed with grief and shame. the czar handed the paper to one of his officers who stood near, and then asked alexis what it was that he desired. alexis, in reply, begged that his father would have mercy upon him and spare his life. the czar said that he would spare his life, and forgive him for all his treasonable and rebellious acts, on condition that he would make a full and complete confession, without any restriction or reserve, of every thing connected with his late escape from the country, explaining fully all the details of the plan which he had formed, and reveal the names of all his advisers and accomplices. but if his confession was not full and complete--if he suppressed or concealed any thing, or the name of any person concerned in the affair or privy to it, then this promise of pardon should be null and void. the czar also said that alexis must renounce the succession to the crown, and must confirm the renunciation by a solemn oath, and acknowledge it by signing a declaration, in writing, to that effect with his own hand. to all this, alexis, who seemed overwhelmed with contrition and anguish, solemnly agreed, and declared that he was ready to make a full and complete confession. the czar then asked his son who it was that advised him and aided him in his late escape from the kingdom. alexis seemed unwilling to reply to this question in the midst of such an assemblage, but said something to his father in a low voice, which the others could not hear. in consequence of what he thus said his father took him into an adjoining room, and there conversed with him in private for a few minutes, and then both returned together into the public hall. it is supposed that while they were thus apart alexis gave his father the names of some of those who had aided and abetted him in his absconding, for immediately afterward three couriers were dispatched in three different directions, as if with orders to arrest the persons who were thus accused. as soon as alexis and his father had returned into the hall, the document was produced which the prince was to sign, renouncing the succession to the crown. the signature and seal of alexis were affixed to this document with all due formality. then a declaration was made on the part of the czar, stating the reasons which had induced his majesty to depose his eldest son from the succession, and to appoint his younger son, peter, in his place. this being done, all the officers present were required to make a solemn oath on the gospels, and to sign a written declaration, of which several copies had previously been prepared, importing that the czar, having excluded from the crown his son alexis, and appointed his son peter his successor in his stead, they owned the legality and binding force of the decree, acknowledged peter as the true and rightful heir, and bound themselves to stand by him with their lives against any or all who should oppose him, and declared that they never would, under any pretense whatsoever, adhere to alexis, or assist him in recovering the succession. the whole company then repaired to the cathedral, where the bishops and other ecclesiastics were assembled, and there the whole body of the clergy solemnly took the same oath and subscribed the same declaration. the same oath was also afterward administered to all the officers of the army, governors of the provinces, and other public functionaries throughout the empire. when these ceremonies at the palace and at the cathedral were concluded, the company dispersed. alexis was placed in confinement in one of the palaces in moscow, and none were allowed to have access to him except those whom the czar appointed to keep him in charge. immediately after this the necessary proceedings for a full investigation of the whole affair were commenced in a formal and solemn manner. a series of questions were drawn up and given to alexis, that he might make out deliberate answers to them in writing. grand courts of investigation and inquiry were convened in moscow, the great dignitaries both of church and state being summoned from all parts of the empire to attend them. these persons came to the capital in great state, and, in going to and fro to attend at the halls of judgment from day to day, they moved through the streets with such a degree of pomp and parade as to attract great crowds of spectators. as fast as the names were discovered of persons who were implicated in alexis's escape, or who were suspected of complicity in it, officers were dispatched to arrest them. some were taken from their beds at midnight, without a moment's warning, and shut up in dungeons in a great fortress at moscow. when questioned, if they seemed inclined to return evasive answers, or to withhold any information of which the judges thought they were possessed, they were taken into the torturing-room and put to the torture. one of the first who was arrested was alexander kikin, who had been alexis's chief confidant and adviser in all his proceedings. kikin had taken extreme precautions to guard against having his agency in the affair found out; but alexis, in the answers that he gave to the first series of questions that were put to him, betrayed him. kikin was aware of the danger, and, in order to secure for himself some chance of escape in case alexis should make disclosures implicating him, had bribed a page, who was always in close attendance upon the czar, to let him know immediately in case of any movement to arrest him. the name of this page was baklanoffsky. he was in the apartment at the time that the czar was writing the order for kikin's arrest, standing, as was his wont, behind the chair of the czar, so as to be ready at hand to convey messages or to wait upon his master. he looked over, and saw the order which the czar was writing. he immediately contrived some excuse to leave the apartment, and hurrying away, he went to the post-house and sent on an express by post to kikin at petersburg to warn him of the danger. but the czar, noticing his absence, sent some one off after him, and thus his errand at the post-house was discovered, but not until after the express had gone. another express was immediately sent off with the order for kikin's arrest, and both the couriers arrived in petersburg very nearly at the same time. the one, however, who brought the warning was a little too late. when he arrived the house of the commissioner was surrounded by a guard of fifty grenadiers, and officers were then in kikin's apartment taking him out of his bed. they put him at once in irons and took him away, scarcely allowing him time to bid his wife farewell. the page was, of course, arrested and sent to prison too. a number of other persons, many of whom were of very high rank, were arrested in a similar manner. the arrival of alexis at moscow took place early in february, and nearly all of february and march were occupied with these arrests and the proceedings of the court in trying the prisoners. at length, toward the end of march, a considerable number, kikin himself being among them, were condemned to death, and executed in the most dreadful manner in a great public square in the centre of moscow. one was impaled alive; that is, a great stake was driven through his body into the ground, and he was left in that situation to die. others were broken on the wheel. one, a bishop, was burnt. the heads of the principal offenders were afterward cut off and set up on poles at the four corners of a square inclosure made for the purpose, the impaled body lying in the middle. the page who had been bribed by kikin was not put to death. his life was spared, perhaps on account of his youth, but he was very severely punished by scourging. during all this time alexis continued to be confined to his prison, and he was subjected to repeated examinations and cross-examinations, in order to draw from him not only the whole truth in respect to his own motives and designs in his flight, but also such information as might lead to the full development of the plans and designs of the party in russia who were opposed to the government of peter, and who had designed to make use of the name and position of alexis for the accomplishment of their schemes. alexis had promised to make a full and complete confession, but he did not do so. in the answers to the series of questions which were first addressed to him, he confessed as much as he thought was already known, and endeavored to conceal the rest. in a short time, however, many things that he had at first denied or evaded were fully proved by other testimony taken in the trial of the prisoners who have already been referred to. then alexis was charged with the omissions or evasions in his confession which had thus been made to appear, and asked for an explanation, and thereupon he made new confessions, acknowledging the newly-discovered facts, and excusing himself for not having mentioned them before by saying that he had forgotten them, or else that he was afraid to divulge them for fear of injuring the persons that would be implicated by them. thus he went on contradicting and involving himself more and more by every fresh confession, until, at last, his father, and all the judges who had convened to investigate the case, ceased to place any confidence in any thing that he said, and lost almost all sympathy for him in his distress. the examination was protracted through many months. the result of it, on the whole, was, that it was fully proved that there was a powerful party in russia opposed to the reforms and improvements of the czar, and particularly to the introduction of the european civilization into the country, who were desirous of effecting a revolution, and who wished to avail themselves of the quarrel between alexis and his father to promote their schemes. alexis was too much stupefied by his continual drunkenness to take any very active or intelligent part in these schemes, but he was more or less distinctly aware of them; and in the offers which he had made to enter a monastery and renounce all claims to the crown he had been utterly insincere, his only object having been to blind his father by means of them and gain time. he acknowledged that he had hated his father, and had wished for his death, and when he fled to vienna it was his intention to remain until he could return and take possession of the empire in his father's place. he, however, solemnly declared that it was never his intention to take any steps himself toward that end during his father's lifetime, though he admitted, at last, when the fact had been pretty well proved against him by other evidence, that, in case an insurrection in his behalf had broken out in russia, and he had been called upon, he should have joined the rebels. a great deal of information, throwing light upon the plans of alexis and of the conspirators in russia connected with him, was obtained from the disclosures made by afrosinia. as has already been stated, she had been taken by alexis as a slave, and forced, against her will, to join herself to him and to follow his fortunes. he had never admitted her into his confidence, but had induced her, from time to time, to act as he desired by telling her any falsehood which would serve the purpose. she consequently was not bound to him by any ties of honor or affection, and felt herself at liberty to answer freely all questions which were put to her by the judges. her testimony was of great value in many points, and contributed very essentially toward elucidating the whole affair. chapter xviii. the condemnation and death of alexis. condition of alexis--the two tribunals--their powers--the czar calls for a decision--his addresses to the two councils--deliberation of the clergy--their answer--their quotations from scripture--cautious language used by the bishops--they suggest clemency and mercy--additional confessions made by alexis--the priest--tolstoi sent to alexis--the czar's three final questions--alexis's three answers--his account of the manner in which he had been educated--his feelings toward his father--his attempts to maim himself--his treasonable designs--alexis's confession sent to the council--decision of the council--the promise of pardon--forfeiture of it--conclusion of the sentence--the signatures--the th of july--the czar's mental struggles--alexis brought out to hear his sentence--overwhelmed with dismay--visit of his father--sorrowful scene--alexis sends a second time for his father--his death--czar's circular--the body laid in state--rumors circulated--funeral ceremonies--the opposition broken up--the mother of alexis--afrosinia--the czar pardons her the examinations and investigations described in the last chapter were protracted through a period of several months. they were commenced in february, and were not concluded until june. during all this time alexis had been kept in close confinement, except when he had been brought out before his judges for the various examinations and cross-examinations to which he had been subjected; and as the truth in respect to his designs became more and more fully developed, and the danger in respect to the result increased, he sank gradually into a state of distress and terror almost impossible to be conceived. the tribunals before whom he was tried were not the regular judicial tribunals of the country. they were, on the other hand, two grand convocations of all the great official dignitaries of the church and of the state, that were summoned expressly for this purpose--not to _decide_ the case, for, according to the ancient customs of the russian empire, that was the sole and exclusive province of the czar, but to aid him in investigating it, and then, if called upon, to give him their counsel in respect to the decision of it. one of these assemblies consisted of the ecclesiastical authorities, the archbishops, the bishops, and other dignitaries of the church. the other was composed of nobles, ministers of state, officers of the army and navy in high command, and other great civil and military functionaries. these two assemblies met and deliberated in separate halls, and pursued their investigations in respect to the several persons implicated in the affair, as they were successively brought before them, under the direction of the czar, though the final disposal of each case rested, it was well understood, with him alone. at length, in the month of june, when all the other cases had been disposed of, and the proof in respect to alexis was considered complete, the czar sent in a formal address to each of these conventions, asking their opinion and advice in respect to what he ought to do with his son. in his address to the archbishops and bishops, he stated that, although he was well aware that he had himself absolute power to judge his son for his crimes, and to dispose of him according to his own will and pleasure, without asking advice of any one, still, "as men were sometimes less discerning," he said, "in their own affairs than in those of others, so that even the most skillful physicians do not run the hazard of prescribing for themselves, but call in the assistance of others when they are indisposed," in the same manner he, having the fear of god before his eyes, and being afraid to offend him, had decided to bring the question at issue between himself and his son before them, that they might examine the word of god in relation to it, and give their opinion, in writing, what the will of god in such a case might be. he wished also, he said, that the opinion to which they should come should be signed by each one of them individually, with his own hand. he made a similar statement in his address to the grand council of civil authorities, calling upon them also to give their opinion in respect to what should be done with alexis. "i beg of you," he said, in the conclusion of his address, "to consider of the affair, to examine it seriously and with attention, and see what it is that our son has deserved, without flattering me, or apprehending that, if in your judgment he deserves no more than slight punishment, it will be disagreeable to me; for i swear to you, by the great god and by his judgments, that you have nothing to fear from me on this account. "neither are you to allow the consideration that it is the son of your sovereign that you are to pass judgment upon to have any effect upon you. but do justice without respect of persons, so that your conscience and mine may not reproach us at the great day of judgment." the convocation of clergy, in deliberating upon the answer which they were to make to the czar, deemed it advisable to proceed with great caution. they were not quite willing to recommend directly and openly that alexis should be put to death, while, at the same time, they wished to give the sanction of their approval for any measures of severity which the czar might be inclined to take. so they forbore to express any positive opinion of their own, but contented themselves with looking out in the scriptures, both in the old and new testament, the terrible denunciations which are therein contained against disobedient and rebellious children, and the accounts of fearful punishments which were inflicted upon them in jewish history. they began their statement by formally acknowledging that peter himself had absolute power to dispose of the case of his son according to his own sovereign will and pleasure; that they had no jurisdiction in the case, and could not presume to pronounce judgment, or say any thing which could in any way restrain or limit the czar in doing what he judged best. but nevertheless, as the czar had graciously asked them for their counsel as a means of instructing his own mind previously to coming to a decision, they would proceed to quote from the holy scriptures such passages as might be considered to bear upon the subject, and to indicate the will of god in respect to the action of a sovereign and father in such a case. they then proceeded to quote the texts and passages of scripture. some of these texts were denunciations of rebellious and disobedient children, such as, "the eye that mocketh his father and that despiseth to obey his mother, the ravens of the valley shall pluck it out," and the jewish law providing that, "if a man have a stubborn and rebellious son, who will not obey the voice of his father nor the voice of his mother, and that, when they have chastened him, will not hearken unto them, then shall his father and mother lay hold of him, and bring him out unto the elders of his city, and unto the gate of his place, and shall say unto the elders of his city, this our son is rebellious: he will not obey our voice; he is a glutton and a drunkard. and all the men of his city shall stone him with stones that he die." there were other passages quoted relating to actual cases which occurred in the jewish history of sons being punished with death for crimes committed against their parents, such as that of absalom, and others. the bearing and tendency of all these extracts from the scriptures was to justify the severest possible treatment of the unhappy criminal. the bishops added, however, at the close of their communication, that they had made these extracts in obedience to the command of their sovereign, not by way of pronouncing sentence, or making a decree, or in any other way giving any authoritative decision on the question at issue, but only to furnish to the czar himself such spiritual guidance and instruction in the case as the word of god afforded. it would be very far from their duty, they said, to condemn any one to death, for jesus christ had taught his ministers not to be governed by a spirit of anger, but by a spirit of meekness. they had no power to condemn any one to death, or to seek his blood. that, when necessary, was the province of the civil power. theirs was to bring men to repentance of their sins, and to offer them forgiveness of the same through jesus christ their savior. they therefore, in submitting their communication to his imperial majesty, did it only that he might do what seemed right in his own eyes. "if he concludes to punish his fallen son," they said, "according to his deeds, and in a manner proportionate to the enormity of his crimes, he has before him the declarations and examples which we have herein drawn from the scriptures of the old testament. if, on the other hand, he is inclined to mercy, he has the example of jesus christ, who represented the prodigal son as received and forgiven when he returned and repented, who dismissed the woman taken in adultery, when by the law she deserved to be stoned, and who said that he would have mercy and not sacrifice." the document concluded by the words, "the heart of the czar is in the hand of god, and may he choose the part to which the hand of god shall turn it." as for the other assembly, the one composed of the nobles and senators, and other great civil and military functionaries, before rendering their judgment they caused alexis to be brought before them again, in order to call for additional explanations, and to see if he still adhered to the confessions that he had made. at these audiences alexis confirmed what he had before said, and acknowledged more freely than he had done before the treasonable intentions of which he had been guilty. his spirit seems by this time to have been completely broken, and he appeared to have thought that the only hope for him of escape from death was in the most humble and abject confessions and earnest supplications for pardon. in these his last confessions, too, he implicated some persons who had not before been accused. one was a certain priest named james. alexis said that at one time he was confessing to this priest, and, among other sins which he mentioned, he said "that he wished for the death of his father." the priest's reply to this was, as alexis said, "god will pardon you for that, my son, for we all," meaning the priests, "wish it too." the priest was immediately arrested, but, on being questioned, he denied having made any such reply. the inquisitors then put him to the torture, and there forced from him the admission that he had spoken those words. whether he had really spoken them, or only admitted it to put an end to the torture, it is impossible to say. they asked him for the names of the persons whom he had heard express a desire that the czar should die, but he said he could not recollect. he had heard it from several persons, but he could not remember who they were. he said that alexis was a great favorite among the people, and that they sometimes used to drink his health under the designation of the hope of russia. the czar himself also obtained a final and general acknowledgment of guilt from his son, which he sent in to the senate on the day before their judgment was to be rendered. he obtained this confession by sending tolstoi, an officer of the highest rank in his court, and the person who had been the chief medium of the intercourse and of the communications which he had held with his son during the whole course of the affair, with the following written instructions: "to m. tolstoi, privy counselor: "go to my son this afternoon, and put down in writing the answers he shall give to the following questions: "i. what is the reason why he has always been so disobedient to me, and has refused to do what i required of him, or to apply himself to any useful business, notwithstanding all the guilt and shame which he has incurred by so strange and unusual a course? "ii. why is it that he has been so little afraid of me, and has not apprehended the consequences that must inevitably follow from his disobedience? "iii. what induced him to desire to secure possession of the crown otherwise than by obedience to me, and following me in the natural order of succession? and examine him upon every thing else that bears any relation to this affair." tolstoi went to alexis in the prison, and read these questions to him. alexis wrote out the following statement in reply to them, which tolstoi carried to the czar: "i. although i was well aware that to be disobedient as i was to my father, and refuse to do what please him, was a very strange and unusual course, and both a sin and a shame, yet i was led into it, in the first instance, in consequence of having been brought up from my infancy with a governess and her maids, from whom i learned nothing but amusements, and diversions, and bigotry, to which i had naturally an inclination. "the person to whom i was intrusted after i was removed from my governess gave me no better instructions. "my father, afterward being anxious about my education, and desirous that i should apply myself to what became the son of the czar, ordered me to learn the german language and other sciences, which i was very averse to. i applied myself to them in a very negligent manner, and only pretended to study at all in order to gain time, and without having any inclination to learn any thing. "and as my father, who was then frequently with the army, was absent from me a great deal, he ordered his serene highness, the prince menzikoff, to have an eye upon me. while he was with me i was obliged to apply myself, but, as soon as i was out of his sight, the persons with whom i was left, observing that i was only bent on bigotry and idleness, on keeping company with priests and monks, and drinking with them, they not only encouraged me to neglect my business, but took pleasure in doing as i did. as these persons had been about me from my infancy, i was accustomed to observe their directions, to fear them, and to comply with their wishes in every thing, and thus, by degrees, they alienated my affections from my father by diverting me with pleasures of this nature; so that, by little and little, i came to have not only the military affairs and other actions of my father in horror, but also his person itself, which made me always wish to be at a distance from him. alexander kikin especially, when he was with me, took a great deal of pains to confirm me in this way of life. "my father, having compassion on me, and desiring still to make me worthy of the state to which i was called, sent me into foreign countries; but, as i was already grown to man's estate, i made no alteration in my way of living. "it is true, indeed, that my travels were of some advantage to me, but they were insufficient to erase the vicious habits which had taken such deep root in me. "ii. it was this evil disposition which prevented my being apprehensive of my father's correction for my disobedience. i was really afraid of him, but it was not with a filial fear. i only sought for means to get away from him, and was in no wise concerned to do his will, but to avoid, by every means in my power, what he required of me. of this i will now freely confess one plain instance. "when i came back to petersburg to my father from abroad, at the end of one of my journeys, he questioned me about my studies, and, among other things, asked me if i had forgotten what i had learned, and i told him no. he then asked me to bring him some of my drawings of plans. then, fearing that he would order me to draw something in his presence, which i could not do, as i knew nothing of the matter, i set to work to devise a way to hurt my hand so that it should be impossible for me to do any thing at all. so i charged a pistol with ball, and, taking it in my left hand, i let it off against the palm of my right, with a design to have shot through it. the ball, however, missed my hand, though the powder burned it sufficiently to wound it. the ball entered the wall of my room, and it may be seen there still. "my father, observing my hand to be wounded, asked me how it came. i told him an evasive story, and kept the truth to myself. by this means you may see that i was afraid of my father, but not with a proper filial fear.[ ] "iii. as to my having desired to obtain the crown otherwise than by obedience to my father, and following him in regular order of succession, all the world may easily understand the reason; for, when i was once out of the right way, and resolved to imitate my father in nothing, i naturally sought to obtain the succession by any, even the most wrongful method. i confess that i was even willing to come into possession of it by foreign assistance, if it had been necessary. if the emperor had been ready to fulfill the promise that he made me of procuring for me the crown of russia, even with an armed force, i should have spared nothing to have obtained it. "for instance, if the emperor had demanded that i should afterward furnish him with russian troops against any of his enemies, in exchange for his service in aiding me, or large sums of money, i should have done whatever he pleased. i would have given great presents to his ministers and generals over and above. in a word, i would have thought nothing too much to have obtained my desire." this confession, after it was brought to the czar by tolstoi, to whom alexis gave it, was sent by him to the great council of state, to aid them in forming their opinion. the council were occupied for the space of a week in hearing the case, and then they drew up and signed their decision. the statement which they made began by acknowledging that they had not of themselves any original right to try such a question, the czar himself, according to the ancient constitution of the empire, having sole and exclusive jurisdiction in all such affairs, without being beholden to his subjects in regard to them in any manner whatever; but, nevertheless, as the czar had deemed it expedient to refer it to them, they accepted the responsibility, and, after having fully investigated the case, were now ready to pronounce judgment. they then proceeded to declare that, after a full hearing and careful consideration of all the evidence, both oral and written, which had been laid before them, including the confessions of alexis himself, they found that he had been guilty of treason and rebellion against his father and sovereign, and deserved to suffer death. "and although," said the council, in continuation, "although, both before and since his return to russia, the czar his father had promised him pardon on certain conditions, yet those conditions were particularly and expressly specified, especially the one which provided that he should make a full and complete confession of all his designs, and of the names of all the persons who had been privy to them or concerned in the execution of them. with these conditions, and particularly the last, alexis had not complied, but had returned insincere and evasive answers to the questions which had been put to him, and had concealed not only the names of a great many of the principal persons that were involved in the conspiracy, but also the most important designs and intentions of the conspirators, thus making it appear that he had determined to reserve to himself an opportunity hereafter, when a favorable occasion should present itself, of resuming his designs and putting his wicked enterprise into execution against his sovereign and father. he thus had rendered himself unworthy of the pardon which his father had promised him, and had forfeited all claim to it." the sentence of the council concluded in the following words: "it is with hearts full of affliction and eyes streaming down with tears that we, as subjects and servants, pronounce this sentence, considering that, being such, it does not belong to us to enter into a judgment of so great importance, and particularly to pronounce sentence against the son of the most mighty and merciful czar our lord. however, since it has been his will that we should enter into judgment, we herein declare our real opinion, and pronounce this condemnation, with a conscience so pure and christian that we think we can answer for it at the terrible, just, and impartial judgment of the great god. "to conclude, we submit this sentence which we now give, and the condemnation which we make, to the sovereign power and will, and to the merciful review of his czarian majesty, our most merciful monarch." this document was signed in the most solemn manner by all the members of the council, nearly one hundred in number. among the signatures are the names of a great number of ministers of state, counselors, senators, governors, generals, and other personages of high civil and military rank. the document, when thus formally authenticated, was sent, with much solemn and imposing ceremony, to the czar. the czar, after an interval of great suspense and solicitude, during which he seems to have endured much mental suffering, confirmed the judgment of the council, and a day was appointed on which alexis was to be arraigned, in order that sentence of death, in accordance with it, might be solemnly pronounced upon him. the day appointed was the th of july, nearly a fortnight after the judgment of the court was rendered to the czar. the length of this delay indicates a severe struggle in the mind of the czar between his pride and honor as a sovereign, feelings which prompted him to act in the most determined and rigorous manner in punishing a rebel against his government, and what still remained of his parental affection for his son. he knew well that after what had passed there could never be any true and genuine reconciliation, and that, as long as his son lived, his name would be the watchword of opposition and rebellion, and his very existence would act as a potent and perpetual stimulus to the treasonable designs which the foes of civilization and progress were always disposed to form. he finally, therefore, determined that the sentence of death should at least be pronounced. what his intention was in respect to the actual execution of it can never be known. when the appointed day arrived a grand session of the council was convened, and alexis was brought out from the fortress where he was imprisoned, and arraigned before it for the last time. he was attended by a strong guard. on being placed at the bar of the tribunal, he was called upon to repeat the confessions which he had made, and then the sentence of death, as it had been sent to the czar, was read to him. he was then taken back again to his prison as before. alexis was overwhelmed with terror and distress at finding himself thus condemned; and the next morning intelligence was brought to the czar that, after suffering convulsions at intervals through the night, he had fallen into an apoplectic fit. about noon another message was brought, saying that he had revived in some measure from the fit, yet his vital powers seemed to be sinking away, and the physician thought that his life was in great danger. the czar sent for the principal ministers of state to come to him, and he waited with them in great anxiety and agitation for farther tidings. at length a third messenger came, and said that it was thought that alexis could not possibly outlive the evening, and that he longed to see his father. the czar immediately requested the ministers to accompany him, and set out from his palace to go to the fortress where alexis was confined. on entering the room where his dying son was lying, he was greatly moved, and alexis himself, bursting into tears, folded his hands and began to entreat his father's forgiveness for his sins against him. he said that he had grievously and heinously offended the majesty of god almighty and of the czar; that he hoped he should not recover from his illness, for if he should recover he should feel that he was unworthy to live. but he begged and implored his father, for god's sake, to take off the curse that he had pronounced against him, to forgive him for all the heinous crimes which he had committed, to bestow upon him his paternal blessing, and to cause prayers to be put up for his soul. while alexis was speaking thus, the czar himself, and all the ministers and officers who had come with him, were melted in tears. the czar replied kindly to him. he referred, it is true, to the sins and crimes of which alexis had been guilty, but he gave him his forgiveness and his blessing, and then took his leave with tears and lamentations which rendered it impossible for him to speak, and in which all present joined. the scene was heart-rending. [illustration: the czar's visit to alexis in prison.] at five o'clock in the evening a major of the guards came across the water from the fortress to the czar's palace with a message that alexis was extremely desirous to see his father once more. the czar was at first unwilling to comply with this request. he could not bear, he thought, to renew the pain of such an interview. but his ministers advised him to go. they represented to him that it was hard to deny such a request from his dying son, who was probably tormented by the stings of a guilty conscience, and felt relieved and comforted when his father was near. so peter consented to go. but just as he was going on board the boat which was to take him over to the fortress, another messenger came saying that it was too late. alexis had expired. on the next day after the death of his son, the czar, in order to anticipate and preclude the false rumors in respect to the case which he knew that his enemies would endeavor to spread throughout the continent, caused a brief but full statement of his trial and condemnation, and of the circumstances of his death, to be drawn up and sent to all his ministers abroad, in order that they might communicate the facts in an authentic form to the courts to which they were respectfully accredited.[ ] the ninth day of july, the third day after the death of alexis, was appointed for the funeral. the body was laid in a coffin covered with black velvet. a pall of rich gold tissue was spread over the coffin, and in this way the body was conveyed to the church of the holy trinity, where it was laid in state. it remained in this condition during the remainder of that day and all of the next, and also on the third day until evening. it was visited by vast crowds of people, who were permitted to come up and kiss the hands of the deceased. on the evening of the third day after the body was conveyed to the church, the funeral service was performed, and the body was conveyed to the tomb. a large procession, headed by the czar, the czarina, and all the chief nobility of the court, followed in the funeral train. the czar and all the other mourners carried in their hands a small wax taper burning. the ladies were all dressed in black silks. it was said by those who were near enough in the procession to observe the czar that he went weeping all the way. at the service in the church a funeral sermon was pronounced by the priest from the very appropriate text, "o absalom! my son! my son absalom!" thus ended this dreadful tragedy. the party who had been opposed to the reforms and improvements of the czar seems to have become completely disorganized after the death of alexis, and they never again attempted to organize any resistance to peter's plans. indeed, most of the principal leaders had been executed or banished to siberia. as to ottokesa, the first wife of the czar, and the mother of alexis, who was proved to have been privy to his designs, she was sent away to a strong castle, and shut up for the rest of her days in a dungeon. so close was her confinement that even her food was put in to her through a hole in the wall. it remains only to say one word in conclusion in respect to afrosinia. when alexis was first arrested, it was supposed that she, having been the slave and companion of alexis, was a party with him in his treasonable designs; but in the course of the examinations it appeared very fully that whatever of connection with the affair, or participation in it, she may have had, was involuntary and innocent, and the testimony which she gave was of great service in unraveling the mystery of the whole transaction. in the end, the czar expressed his satisfaction with her conduct in strong terms. he gave her a full pardon for the involuntary aid which she had rendered alexis in carrying out his plans. he ordered every thing which had been taken away from her to be restored, made her presents of handsome jewelry, and said that if she would like to be married he would give her a handsome portion out of the royal treasury. but she promptly declined this proposal. "i have been compelled," she said, "to yield to one man's will by force; henceforth no other shall ever come near my side." [ ] this incident shows to what a reckless and brutal state of desperation alexis had been reduced by the obstinacy of his opposition to his father, and by the harshness of his father's treatment of him. he confessed, on another occasion, that he had often taken medicine to produce an apparent sickness, in order to have an excuse for not attending to duties which his father required of him. [ ] there were, in fact, a great many rumors put in circulation, and they spread very far, and were continued in circulation a long time. one story was that alexis was poisoned. another, that his father killed him with his own hands in the prison. it was said in london that he beat him to death with an iron chain. the extent to which these and similar stories received currency indicates pretty clearly what ideas prevailed in men's minds at that time in respect to the savage ferocity of peter's character. chapter xix. conclusion. - death of little peter--excessive grief of the czar--the czar shuts himself up--device of his minister--subsequent reign--his plan for the succession--oath required of the people--prince naraskin--proclamation--catharine's usefulness--splendour of the preparations--the interior of the church--the dais--the canopy--the regalia--the ceremonies--sickness and death of peter--natalia--the double funeral--general character of peter--compared with other sovereigns--playful vein in his character--examples--the little grandfather--taken to cronstadt--triumphal procession--display before the fleet--closing festivities--catharine proclaimed empress--catharine's brief reign--her beneficent character at the time of the death of alexis the czar's hopes in respect to a successor fell upon his little son, peter petrowitz, the child of catharine, who was born about the time of the death of alexis's wife, when the difficulties between himself and alexis were first beginning to assume an alarming form. this child was now about three years old, but he was of a very weak and sickly constitution, and the czar watched him with fear and trembling. his apprehensions proved to be well founded, for about a year after the unhappy death of alexis he also died. peter was entirely overwhelmed with grief at this new calamity. he was seized with the convulsions to which he was subject when under any strong excitement, his face was distorted, and his neck was twisted and stiffened in a most frightful manner. in ordinary attacks of this kind catharine had power to soothe and allay the spasmodic action of the muscles, and gradually release her husband from the terrible gripe of the disease, but now he would not suffer her to come near him. he could not endure it, for the sight of her renewed so vividly the anguish that he felt for the loss of their child, that it made the convulsions and the suffering worse than before. it is said that on this occasion peter shut himself up alone for three days and three nights in his own chamber, where he lay stretched on the ground in anguish and agony, and would not allow any body to come in. at length one of his ministers of state came, and, speaking to him through the door, appealed to him, in the most earnest manner, to come forth and give them directions in respect to the affairs of the empire, which, he said, urgently required his attention. the minister had brought with him a large number of senators to support and enforce his appeal. at length the czar allowed the door to be opened, and the minister, with all the senators, came together into the room. the sudden appearance of so many persons, and the boldness of the minister in taking this decided step, made such an impression on the mind of the czar as to divert his mind for the moment from his grief, and he allowed himself to be led forth and to be persuaded to take some food. the death of petrowitz took place in , and the czar continued to live and reign himself after this period for about sixteen [transcriber's note: six? (peter died in )] years. during all that time he went on vigorously and successfully in completing the reforms which he had undertaken in the internal condition of his empire, and increasing the power and influence of his government among surrounding nations. he had no farther serious difficulty with the opponents of his policy, though he was always under apprehensions that difficulties might arise after his death. he had the right, according to the ancient constitution of the monarchy, to designate his own successor, choosing for this purpose either one of his sons or any other person. and now, since both his sons were dead, his mind revolved anxiously the question what provision he should make for the government of the empire after his decease. he finally concluded to leave it in the hands of catharine herself, and, to prepare the way for this, he resolved to cause her to be solemnly crowned empress during his lifetime. as a preliminary measure, however, before publicly announcing catharine as his intended successor, peter required all the officers of the empire, both civil and military, and all the nobles and other chief people of the country, to subscribe a solemn declaration and oath that they acknowledged the right of the czar to appoint his successor, and that after his death they would sustain and defend whomsoever he should name as their emperor and sovereign. this declaration, printed forms of which were sent all over the kingdom, was signed by the people very readily. no one, however, imagined that catharine would be the person on whom the czar's choice would fall. it was generally supposed that a certain prince naraskin would be appointed to the succession. the czar himself said nothing of his intention, but waited until the time should arrive for carrying it into effect. the first step to be taken in carrying the measure into effect was to issue a grand proclamation announcing his design and explaining the reasons for it. in this proclamation peter cited many instances from history in which great sovereigns had raised their consorts to a seat on the throne beside them, and then he recapitulated the great services which catharine had rendered to him and to the state, which made her peculiarly deserving of such an honor. she had been a tried and devoted friend and counselor to him, he said, for many years. she had shared his labors and fatigues, had accompanied him on his journeys, and had even repeatedly encountered all the discomforts and dangers of the camp in following him in his military campaigns. by so doing she had rendered him the most essential service, and on one occasion she had been the means of saving his whole army from destruction. he therefore declared his intention of joining her with himself in the supreme power, and to celebrate this event by a solemn coronation. the place where the coronation was to be performed was, of course, the ancient city of moscow, and commands were issued to all the great dignitaries of church and state, and invitations to all the foreign embassadors, to repair to that city, and be ready on the appointed day to take part in the ceremony. it would be impossible to describe or to conceive, without witnessing it, the gorgeousness and splendor of the spectacle which the coronation afforded. the scene of the principal ceremony was the cathedral, which was most magnificently decorated for the occasion. the whole interior of the building was illumined with an immense number of wax candles, contained in chandeliers and branches of silver and gold, which were suspended from the arches or attached to the walls. the steps of the altar, and all that part of the pavement of the church over which the czarina would have to walk in the performance of the ceremonies, were covered with rich tapestry embroidered with gold, and the seats on which the bishops and other ecclesiastical dignitaries were to sit were covered with crimson cloth. the ceremony of the coronation itself was to be performed on a dais, or raised platform, which was set up in the middle of the church. this platform, with the steps leading to it, was carpeted with crimson velvet, and it was surmounted by a splendid canopy made of silk, embroidered with gold. the canopy was ornamented, too, on every side with fringes, ribbons, tufts, tassels, and gold lace, in the richest manner. under the canopy was the double throne for the emperor and empress, and near it seats for the royal princesses, all covered with crimson velvet trimmed with gold. when the appointed hour arrived the procession was formed at the royal palace, and moved toward the cathedral through a dense and compact mass of spectators that every where thronged the way. every window was filled, and the house-tops, wherever there was space for a footing, were crowded. there were troops of guards mounted on horseback and splendidly caparisoned--there were bands of music, and heralds, and great officers of state, bearing successively, on cushions ornamented with gold and jewels, the imperial mantle, the globe, the sceptre, and the crown. in this way the royal party proceeded to the cathedral, and there, after going through a great many ceremonies, which, from the magnificence of the dresses, of the banners, and the various regal emblems that were displayed, was very gorgeous to behold, but which it would be tedious to describe, the crown was placed upon catharine's head, the moment being signalized to all moscow by the ringing of bells, the music of trumpets and drums, and the firing of cannon. the ceremonies were continued through two days by several other imposing processions, and were closed on the night of the second day by a grand banquet held in a spacious hall which was magnificently decorated for the occasion. and while the regal party within the hall were being served with the richest viands from golden vessels, the populace without were feasted by means of oxen roasted whole in the streets, and public fountains made to run with exhaustless supplies of wine. the coronation of catharine as empress was not a mere empty ceremony. there were connected with it formal legal arrangements for transferring the supreme power into her hands on the death of the czar. nor were these arrangements made any too soon; for it was in less than a year after that time that the czar, in the midst of great ceremonies of rejoicing, connected with the betrothal of one of his daughters, the princess anna petrowna, to a foreign duke, was attacked suddenly by a very painful disease, and, after suffering great distress and anguish for many days, he at length expired. his death took place on the th of january, . one of his daughters, the princess natalia petrowna, the third of catharine's children, died a short time after her father, and the bodies of both parent and child were interred together at the same funeral ceremony, which was conducted with the utmost possible pomp and parade. the obsequies were so protracted that it was more than six weeks from the death of the czar before the bodies were finally committed to the tomb; and a volume might be filled with an account of the processions, the ceremonies, the prayers, the chantings, the costumes, the plumes and trappings of horses, the sledges decked in mourning, the requiems sung, the salvos of artillery fired, and all the various other displays and doings connected with the occasion. thus was brought to an end the earthly personal career of peter the great. he well deserves his title, for he was certainly one of the greatest as well as one of the most extraordinary men that ever lived. himself half a savage, he undertook to civilize twenty millions of people, and he pursued the work during his whole lifetime through dangers, difficulties, and discouragements which it required a surprising degree of determination and energy to surmount. he differs from other great military monarchs that have appeared from time to time in the world's history, and by their exploits have secured for themselves the title of the great, in this, that, while they acquired their renown by conquests gained over foreign nations, which, in most cases, after the death of their conquerors, lapsed again into their original condition, leaving no permanent results behind, the triumphs which peter achieved were the commencement of a work of internal improvement and reform which is now, after the lapse of a century and a half since he commenced it, still going on. the work is, in fact, advancing at the present day with perhaps greater and more successful progress than ever before. notwithstanding the stern severity of peter's character, the terrible violence of his passions, and the sort of savage grandeur which marked all his great determinations and plans, there was a certain vein of playfulness running through his mind; and, when he was in a jocose or merry humor, no one could be more jocose and merry than he. the interest which he took in the use of tools, and in working with his own hands at various handicrafts--his notion of entering the army as a drummer, the navy as a midshipman, and rising gravely, by regular promotion in both services, through all the grades--the way in which he often amused himself, when on his travels, in going about in disguise among all sorts of people, and a thousand other circumstances which are related of him by historians, are indications of what might be called a sort of boyish spirit, which strongly marked his character, and was seen continually coming out into action during the whole course of his life. it was only two years before his death that a striking instance of this occurred. the first vessel that was built in russia was a small skiff, which was planned and built almost entirely by peter's own hands. this skiff was built at moscow, where it remained for twenty or thirty years, an object all this time, in peter's mind, of special affection and regard. at length, when the naval power of the empire was firmly established, peter conceived the idea of removing this skiff from moscow to petersburg, and consecrating it solemnly there as a sort of souvenir to be preserved forever in commemoration of the small beginnings from which all the naval greatness of the empire had sprung. the name which he had given to the skiff was the little grandfather, the name denoting that the little craft, frail and insignificant as it was, was the parent and progenitor of all the great frigates and ships of the line which were then at anchor in the roads about cronstadt and off the mouth of the neva. a grand ceremony was accordingly arranged for the "consecration of the little grandfather." the little vessel was brought in triumph from moscow to petersburg, where it was put on board a sort of barge or galliot to be taken to cronstadt. all the great officers of state and all the foreign ministers were invited to be present at the consecration. the company embarked on board yachts provided for them, and went down the river following the little grandfather, which was borne on its galliot in the van--drums beating, trumpets sounding, and banners waving all the way. the next day the whole fleet, which had been collected in the bay for this purpose, was arranged in the form of an amphitheatre. the little grandfather was let down from his galliot into the water. the emperor went on board of it. he was accompanied by the admirals and vice admirals of the fleet, who were to serve as crew. the admiral stationed himself at the helm to steer, and the vice admirals took the oars. these grand officials were not required, however, to do much hard work at rowing, for there were two shallops provided, manned by strong men, to tow the skiff. in this way the skiff rowed to and fro over the sea, and then passed along the fleet, saluted every where by the shouts of the crews upon the yards and in the rigging, and by the guns of the ships. three thousand guns were discharged by the ships in these salvos in honor of their humble progenitor. the little grandfather returned the salutes of the guns with great spirit by means of three small swivels which had been placed on board. the empress catharine saw the show from an elevation on the shore, where she sat with the ladies of her court in a pavilion or tent which had been erected for the purpose. at the close of the ceremonies the skiff was deposited with great ceremony in the place which had been prepared to receive it in the castle of cronstadt, and there, when one more day had been spent in banquetings and rejoicings, the company left the little grandfather to his repose, and returned in their yachts to the town. not many days after the death of peter, catharine, in accordance with the arrangements that peter had previously made, was proclaimed empress by a solemn act of the senate and ministers of state, and she at once entered upon the exercise of the sovereign power. she signalized her accession by a great many acts of clemency--liberating prisoners, recalling exiles, removing bodies from gibbets and wheels, and heads from poles, and delivering them to friends for burial, remitting the sentence of death pronounced upon political offenders, and otherwise mitigating and assuaging sufferings which peter's remorseless ideas of justice and retribution had caused. catharine did not, however, live long to exercise her beneficial power. she died suddenly about two years after her husband, and was buried with great pomp in a grand monumental tomb in one of the churches of st. petersburg, which she had been engaged ever since his death in constructing for him. proofreading team. [illustration: night over the black sea] a tramp's sketches by stephen graham to "the celestials" preface this book was written chiefly whilst tramping along the caucasian and crimean shores of the black sea, and on a pilgrimage with russian peasants to jerusalem. most of it was written in the open air, sitting on logs in the pine forests or on bridges over mountain streams, by the side of my morning fire or on the sea sand after the morning dip. it is not so much a book about russia as about the tramp. it is the life of the wanderer and seeker, the walking hermit, the rebel against modern conditions and commercialism who has gone out into the wilderness. i have tramped alone over the battlefields of the crimea, visited the cemetery where lie so many british dead, wandered along the black sea shores a thousand miles to new athos monastery and batum, have been with seven thousand peasant pilgrims to jerusalem, and lived their life in the hospitable greek monasteries and in the great russian hostelry at the holy city, have bathed with them in jordan where all were dressed in their death-shrouds, and have slept with them a whole night in the sepulchre. one cannot make such a journey without great experiences both spiritual and material. on every hand new significances are revealed, both of russian life and of life itself. it is with life itself that this volume is concerned. it is personal and friendly, and on that account craves indulgence. here are the songs and sighs of the wanderer, many lyrical pages, and the very minimum of scientific and topographical matter. it is all written spontaneously and without study, and as such goes forth--all that a seeker could put down of his visions, or could tell of what he sought. there will follow, if it is given to the author both to write and to publish, a full story of the places he visited along the black sea shore, and of the life of the pilgrims on the way to the shrine of the sepulchre and at the shrine itself. it will be a continuation of the work begun in _undiscovered russia_. several of these sketches appeared in the _st. james's gazette_, two in _country life_, and one in _collier's_ of new york, being sent out to these papers from the places where they were written. the author thanks the editors for permission to republish, and for their courtesy in dealing with mss. stephen graham. contents i . farewell to the town . nights out on a perfect vagabondage . the lord's prayer . days . the question ok the sceptic . a thing of beauty is a joy for ever . a still-creation-day . sunset from the gate of baidari . the meaning of the sea ii . hospitality . the rich man and the poor man . a lodging for the night . socrates of zugdida . "have you a light hand?" . st. spiridon of tremifond . at a fair. . a turkish coffee-house . at a great monastery iii . the boy who never grows old . zenobia . the little dead child . how the old pilgrim reached bethlehem iv the wanderer's story (i.) my companion. (ii.) how he found himself in a coach. (iii.) irreconcilables. (iv.) the townsman. (v.) his conversion. v the unconquerable hope vi the pilgrimage to jerusalem vii the message from the hermit * * * * * frontispiece night over the black sea i i farewell to the town the town is one large house of which all the little houses are rooms. the streets are the stairs. those who live always in the town are never out of doors even if they do take the air in the streets. when i came into the town i found that in my soul were reflected its blank walls, its interminable stairways, and the shadows of hurrying traffic. a thousand sights and impressions, unbidden, unwelcome, flooded through the eye-gate of my soul, and a thousand harsh sounds and noises came to me through my ears and echoed within me. i became aware of confused influences of all kinds striving to find some habitation in the temple of my being. what had been my delight in the country, my receptivity and hospitality of consciousness, became in the town my misery and my despair. for imagine! within my own calm mirror a beautiful world had seen itself rebuilded. mountains and valleys lay within me, robed in sunny and cloudy days or marching in the majesty of storm. i had inbreathed their mystery and outbreathed it again as my own. i had gazed at the wide foaming seas till they had gazed into me, and all their waves waved their proud crests within me. beauteous plains had tempted, mysterious dark forests lured me, and i had loved them and given them habitation in my being. my soul had been wedded to the great strong sun and it had slumbered under the watchful stars. the silence of vast lonely places was preserved in my breast. or against the background of that silence resounded in my being the roar of the billows of the ocean. great winds roared about my mountains, or the whispering snow hurried over them as over tents. in my valleys i heard the sound of rivulets; in my forests the birds. choirs of birds sang within my breast. i had been a playfellow with god. god had played with me as with a child. bound by so intimate a tie, how terrible to have been betrayed to a town! for now, fain would the evil city reflect itself in my calm soul, its commerce take up a place within the temple of my being. i had left god's handiwork and come to the man-made town. i had left the inexplicable and come to the realm of the explained. in the holy temple were arcades of shops; through its precincts hurried the trams; the pictures of trade were displayed; men were building hoardings in my soul and posting notices of idol-worship, and hurrying throngs were reading books of the rites of idolatry. instead of the mighty anthem of the ocean i heard the roar of traffic. where had been mysterious forests now stood dark chimneys, and the songs of birds were exchanged for the shrill whistle of trains. and my being began to express itself to itself in terms of commerce. "oh god," i cried in my sorrow, "who did play with me among the mountains, refurnish my soul! purge thy temple as thou didst in jerusalem of old time, when thou didst overset the tables of the money-changers." then the spirit drove me into the wilderness to my mountains and valleys, by the side of the great sea and by the haunted forests. once more the vast dome of heaven became the roof of my house, and within the house was rebuilded that which my soul called beautiful. there i refound my god, and my being re-expressed itself to itself in terms of eternal mysteries. i vowed i should never again belong to the town. as upon a spring day the face of heaven is hid and a storm descends, winds ruffle the bosom of a pure lake, the flowers droop, wet, the birds cease singing, and rain rushes over all, and then anon the face of heaven clears, the sun shines forth, the flowers look up in tears, the birds sing again, and the pure lake reflects once more the pure depth of the sky, so now my glad soul, which had lost its sun, found it again and remembered its birds and its flowers. ii nights out on a perfect vagabondage i i have been a whole season in the wilds, tramping or idling on the black sea shore, living for whole days together on wild fruit, sleeping for the most part under the stars, bathing every morning and evening in the clear warm sea. it is difficult to tell the riches of the life i have had, the significance of the experience. i have felt pulse in my veins wild blood which my instincts had forgotten in the town. i have felt myself come back to nature. during the first month after my departure from the town i slept but thrice under man's roof. i slept all alone, on the hillside, in the maize-fields, in the forest, in old deserted houses, in caves, ruins, like a wild animal gone far afield in search of prey. i never knew in advance where i should make my night couch; for i was nature's guest and my hostess kept her little secrets. each night a new secret was opened, and in the secret lay some pleasant mystery. some of the mysteries i guessed--there are many guesses in these pages--some i only tried to guess, and others i could only wonder over. all manner of mysterious things happen to us in sleep; the sick man is made well, the desperate hopeful, the dull man happy. these things happen in houses which are barred and shuttered and bolted. the power of the night penetrates even into the luxurious apartments of kings, even into the cellars of the slums. but if it is potent in these, how much more is it potent in its free unrestricted domain, the open country. he who sleeps under the stars is bathed in the elemental forces which in houses only creep to us through keyholes. i may say from experience that he who has slept out of doors every day for a month, nay even for a week, is at the end of that time a new man. he has entered into new relationship with the world in which he lives, and has allowed the gentle creative hands of nature to re-shape his soul. the first of my nights after leaving the town was spent on a shaggy grass patch on a cliff, under three old twisted yew trees. underfoot was an abundance of wild lavender and the air was laden with the scent. i am now at new athos monastery, ten miles from sukhum, and am writing this in the cell that the hospitable monks have given me. my last night was in a deep cavern at the base of a high rock on a desert shore. the first night was warm and gentle, though it was followed by several that were stormy. wrapped in my rug i felt not a shiver of cold, even at dawn. as i lay at my ease, i looked out over the far southern sea sinking to sleep in the dusk. the glistening and sparkling of the water passed away--the sea became a great bale of grey--blue silk, soft, smooth, dreamy, like the garment of a sorceress queen. i slipped into sleep and slipped out again as easily as one goes from one room to another, sometimes sleeping one hour or half an hour at a time, or more often one moment asleep, one moment awake, like the movement of a boat on the waves. once when i wakened, i started at an unforeseen phenomenon. the moon in her youth was riding over the sea as bright as it is possible to be, and down below her she wrote upon the waves and expressed herself in new variety, a long splash of lemon-coloured light over the placid ocean, a dream picture, something of magic. it was a marvellous sight, something of that which is indicated in pictures, but which one cannot recognise as belonging to the world of truth--something impressionistic. to waken to see something so beautiful is to waken for the first time, it is verily to be in part born; for therein the soul becomes aware of something it had not previously imagined: looking into the mirror of nature, it sees itself anew. where my sleeping-place would be had been a secret, and this was the mystery in it, the further secret. i was definitely aware even on my first night out that i had entered a new world. to sleep, to wake and find the moon still dreaming, to see the moon's dream in the water, to sleep again and wake, so--till the dawn. such was my night under the old yews, the first spent with these southern stars on a long vagabondage. ii how different was last night, how full of weariness after heavy tramping through leagues of loose stones. i had been tramping from desolate cape pitsoonda over miles and miles of sea holly and scrub through a district where were no people. i had been living on crab-apples and sugar the whole day, for i could get no provisions. it is a comic diet. i should have liked to climb up inland to find a resting-place and seek out houses, but i was committed to the seashore, for the cliffs were sheer, and where the rivers made what might have been a passage, the forest tangles were so barbed that they would tear the clothes off one's back. in many places the sea washed the cliffs and i had to undress in order to get past. it was with resignation that i gave up my day's tramping and sought refuge for the night in a deep and shapely cavern. there was plenty of dry clean sand on the floor, and there was a natural rock pillow. i spread out my blanket and lay at length, looking out to the sea. i lay so near the waves that at high tide i could have touched the foam with my staff. i watched the sun go down and felt pleased that i had given up my quest of houses and food until the morrow. as i lay so leisurely watching the sun, it occurred to me that there was no reason why man should not give up quests when he wanted to--he was not fixed in a definite course like the sun. sunset was beautiful, and dark-winged gulls continually alighted on the glowing waves, alighted and swam and flew again till the night. then the moon lightened up the sea with silver, and all night long the waves rolled and rolled again, and broke and splashed and lapped. the deep cavern was filled with singing sounds that at first frightened me, but at last lulled me to sleep as if a nurse had sung them. iii between these two beds what a glorious night picture-book, a book telling almost entirely of the doings of the moon. i remember how i slept once under a wild walnut-tree. in front of me rose to heaven forested hills, and the night clothed them in majesty. presently the moon came gently from her apartments and put out a slender hand, grasped the tree-tops, and pulled herself up over the world. she showed herself to me in all her glory, and then in a minute was gone again; for she entered into a many-windowed cloud castle and roamed from room to room. as she passed from window to window i knew by the light where she was. a calm night. the moon went right across the sky and returned to her home. rain came before the dawn, and then mists crept down over the forests and hid them from my view. cold, cold! the mountains were hidden by a cloud. loose stones rolled down a cliff continually and a wind sighed. i snuggled myself into my blanket and waited for an hour. then the sun gained possession of the sky. i went down to the river, gathered sticks--they were very damp--and made a fire. once the fire began to burn it soon increased in size, for i had gathered a great pile of little twigs and they soon dried and burned. then in their burning they dried bigger twigs, sticks, cudgels, logs. i boiled my kettle and made tea. whilst i bathed in the river the sun gave a vision of his splendour: a thousand mists trembled at his gaze. an hour later it was a very hot day, and the village folk coming out of their houses could scarcely have dreamed how reluctantly the night had retired at the dawn--with what cold and damp the morning had begun. iv another night, just after moonrise, a wind arose and drove in front of it the whole night long a great thunderstorm, with lightnings and rollings and grumblings and mutterings, but never a spot of rain. at dawn, when i looked out to sea, i saw the whole dreadful array of the storm standing to leeward like ships that had passed in the night, and as though baulked in pursuit the roll of the thunder came across the sky sullenly, though with a note of defeat. the nights were often cold and wet, and it became necessary for me to make my couch under bridges or in caves or holes of the earth. on the skirts of the tobacco plantations and in the swampy malarial region where the ground never gets dry i slept beside bonfires. i learned of the natives to safeguard against fever by placing withered leaves on bark or wilted bracken leaves between myself and the ground. at a little settlement called olginka i slept on an accumulation of logs outside the village church. on this occasion i wrapped myself up in all the clothes i possessed, and so saved myself from the damp. next morning, however, my blanket was so wet with dew that i could wring it, though i had felt warm all night. i had always to guard against the possibility of rain, and i generally made my couch in pleasant proximity to some place of shelter--a bridge, a cave, or a house; and more than once i had to abandon my grass bed in the very depth of the night, and take up the alternative one in shelter. v a tremendous thunderstorm took place about a fortnight after i left home. i had built a stick fire and was making tea for myself at the end of a long cloudless summer day, and taking no care, when suddenly i looked up to the sky and saw the evening turning swiftly to night before my eyes. the sun was not due to set, but the western horizon seemed as it were to have risen and gone forth to meet it. a great black bank of cloud had come up out of the west and hidden away the sun before his time. i hastened to put my tea things into my pack and take to the road, for it was necessary to find a convenient night place. in a quarter of an hour it was night. at regular intervals all along the road were the brightly lit lamps of glow-worms; they looked like miniature street lights, the fitting illumination of a road mostly occupied by hedgehogs. i found a dry resting-place under a tree and laid myself out to sleep, watching the moon who had just risen perfectly, out of the east; but i had hardly settled myself when i was surprised by a gleam of lightning. turning to the west, i saw the vast array of cloud that had overtaken the sun, coming forward into the night--eclipsing the sky. a storm? would it reach me? my wishes prompted comforting answers and i lay and stared at the sky, trying to find reassurance. i did not feel inclined to stir, but the clouds came on ominously. i marked out a bourne across the wide sky and resolved that if the shadow crept past certain bright planets in the north, south, and centre, i would take it as a sign, repack my wraps, and seek shelter in a farm-house. but the clouds came on and on. slowly but surely the great army advanced and the lightnings became more frequent. my sky-line was passed. i rose sorrowfully, put all my things in the knapsack, and took the road once again. the lightning rushed past on the road and, blazing over the forests, lit up the wide night all around. overhead the sky was cut across: in the east was a perfectly clear sky except at the horizon where the moon seemed to have left behind fiery vapours; in the west and overhead lay the dense black mass of the storm cloud. the clouds came forward in regular array like an army. nothing could hold them back; they came on--appallingly. and the moon looked at the steady advance and her light gleamed upon the front ranks as if she were lighting them with many lanterns. i had lain down to sleep quite sober-hearted, but now as the lightnings played around i began to feel as excited as if i were in a theatre--my blood burned. i had tired feet, but i forgot them. i walked swiftly. i felt ready to run, to dance. very strangely there was at the same time a presentiment that i might be struck by lightning. but all nature was madly excited with me and also shared my presentiment of destruction. we lived together like the victim and the accomplices in a dionysian sacrifice and orgy. and the clouds kept on gaining! far away i heard the storm wind and the clamour of the sea. the thunder moaned and sobbed. i hurried along the deserted road and asked my heart for a village, a house, a church, a cave, anything to shield from the oncoming drench. spying a light far away on a hill, i left the road and plunged towards it. i went over many maize-fields, by narrow paths through the tall waving grain, the lightning playing like firelight among the sheath-like leaves. i crossed a wide tobacco plantation and approached the light on the hill, by a long, heavily-rutted cart-track. this led right up to the doors of a farmhouse. big surly dogs came rushing out at me, but i clumped them off with my stick, and having much doubt in my mind as to the sort of reception i should get, i knocked at the windows and doors. i expected to be met by a man with a gun, for the dogs had made such a rumpus that any one might have been alarmed. the door was opened by a tall russian peasant. "may i spend the night here?" i asked. the man smiled and put out his arms as if to embrace me. "yes, of course. why ask? come inside," he replied. "i thought of sleeping in the open air," i added, "but the storm coming up i saw i should be drenched." "why sleep outside when man is ready to receive you?" said the peasant. "it is unkind to pass our houses by. why do you deny your brothers so? you said you slept in the fields, eh? that is bad. you shouldn't. the earth here is full of evil, and the malaria comes up with the dampness. your bones grow brittle and break, or they go all soft, you shrivel up and become white, or swellings come out on you and you get bigger and bigger until you die. no, no! god be thanked you came to me." he asked me would i sleep in the house or on the maize straw. his sons slept on the maize; it was covered, and so, sheltered from the rain. i could sleep in the house if i liked, but it was more comfortable on the straw. his three sons slept there, but as it was a festival they had not come home yet. i agreed to the straw. my host led me to a sort of large open barn, a barn without walls, a seven-feet depth of hay and straw surmounted by a high roof on poles. "if you feel cold, or if the rain comes in, just burrow down under the straw," said the peasant. "very glad i am that you have come to me, that you have done me the honour. much better to ask hospitality than to sleep out." i quite agreed it was much better to sleep with man on such a night. the lightnings were now all about--never leaving a second's pure darkness. the thunder grew more powerful and rolled forward from three sides. my host stood by me after i had lain down, a whole hour. he was most hilarious, having partaken plentifully of festival fare. he warned me repeatedly against sleeping on the ground, and advised me to find bark or withered branches to lie upon if i would not seek shelter with man. the increasing storm did not seem to impress him in the slightest. he was all agog to tell me his family history and to compare the state of agriculture in england with that in russia. only when his sons came home and the heavy rain spots had begun to shower down upon him did he finally shake my hand, wish me well, cross himself, and stump off back to the house. three tall young men scrambled over me into the straw and buried themselves: two laughed and talked, the other was silent and frightened. there was no sleep. the thunder grew louder and louder, and the lightning rushed over our faces like the sudden glare of a searchlight. all four of us put our faces to the straw to shut out the light, and we tried to sleep. but we knew that the tempest at its worst had yet to break. suddenly came a sharp premonitory crash just above us, near, astonishing. one of the young men, who had just dozed off, woke up and scratched his head, saying-- "the little bear has got into the maize. eh, brothers, this is going to be a big piece of work." then a great wind broke out of the sky and tore through the forests like armies of wild beasts. the trees within our view bent down as if they would break in two; the moon above them was overswept by the cloud. when the moon's light had gone the night became darker and the lightning brighter. the framework of our shelter rocked to and fro in the gale and we felt as if upon the sea; the straw and the hay jumped up as if alive, and great lumps of thatch were rent out of the roof, showing the sky and letting in the rain. i looked for the ruin of our shelter. but the hurricane passed on. the rain came in its place. the great forty-day flood re-accomplished itself in an hour. we heard the beat of the rain on the earth: in ten minutes it was the hiss of the rain on the flooded meadows. by the sulphurous illuminations we saw almost continuously the close-packed, drenching rain.... the wet came in. we burrowed deep down into the straw and slept like some new sort of animal. vi on other nights heavy rain came on unexpectedly, and i discovered how pleasant a bed may be made just under the framework of a bridge. the bridge is a favourite resort of the russian tramp and pilgrim, and i have often come across their comfortable hay or bracken beds there. indeed i seldom go across a bridge at night without thinking there may be some such as myself beneath it. when the weather is wet it is much more profitable to sleep in a village--there is hospitality there, and the peasant wife gives you hot soup and dries your clothes. but often villages are far apart, and when you are tramping through the forest there may be twenty miles without a human shelter. i remember i found empty houses, and though i used them they were most fearsome. i had more thrills in them than in the most lonely resting-places in the open. some distance from gagri i found an old ruined dwelling, floorless, almost roofless, but still affording shelter. i had many misgivings as i lay there. was the house haunted? was it some one else's shelter? had some family lived there and all died out? you may imagine the questions that assailed me, once i had lain down. but whether evil was connected with the house or no, it was innocuous for me. nothing happened; only the moon looked through the open doorway; winds wandered among the broken rafters, and far away owls shrieked. again, on the way to otchemchiri i came upon a beautiful cottage in the forest and went to ask hospitality, but found no one there. the front door was bolted but the back door was open. i walked in and took a seat. as there were red-hot embers in the fire some one had lately been there, and would no doubt come back--so i thought. but no one came: twilight grew to night in loneliness and i lay down on the long sleeping bench and slept. it was like the house of the three bears but that there was no hot porridge on the table. but no bears came; only next morning i was confronted by a half-dressed savage, a veritable caliban by appearance but quite harmless, an idiot and deaf and dumb. i made signs to him and he went out and brought in wood, and we remade the fire together. i have slept out in many places--in england, in the caucasus where it was amongst the most lawless people in europe, in north russian forests where the bear is something to be reckoned with--but i have never come to harm. the most glorious and wonderful nights i ever had were almost sleepless ones, spent looking at the stars and tasting the new sensations. yet even in respect of rest it seems to me i have thriven better out of doors. there is a real tranquillity on a mountain side after the sun has gone down, and a silence, even though the crickets whistle and owls cry, though the wind murmurs in the trees above or the waves on the shore below. the noises in houses are often intolerable and one has to wait all every noise in the house and in the street has died away. it is marvellous how easily one recuperates in the open air. even the cold untires and refreshes. then, even if one lies awake, the night passes with extraordinary rapidity. it is always a marvel to me how long the day seems by comparison with the night when i sleep out of doors. a sleepless night in a house is an eternity, but it is only a brief interlude under the stars. i believe the animal creation that sleeps in the field is so in harmony with nature and so unself-conscious that night does not seem more than a quarter of an hour and a little cloudy weather. perhaps the butterflies do not even realise that night endures; darkness comes--they sleep; darkness flees--they wake again. i think they have no dreams. vii it is peculiar, the tramp's feeling about night. when the sun goes down he begins to have an awkward feeling, a sort of shame; he wants to hide himself, to put his head somewhere out of sight. he finds his night place, and even begins to fall asleep as he arranges it. he feels heavy, dull. the thoughts that were bright and shapely by day become dark and ill-proportioned like shadows. he tosses a while, and stares at the stars. at last the stars stare at him; his eyes close; he sleeps. three hours pass--it is always a critical time, three hours after sunset; many sleeping things stir at that time. his thoughts are bright for a moment, but then fall heavy again. he wonders at the moon, and the moon wonders. she is hunting on a dark mountain side. the next sleep is a long one, a deep one, and ghosts may pass over the sleeper, imps dance on his head, rats nibble at his provisions; he wakes not. he is under a charm--nought of evil can affect him, for he has prayed. encompassed with dangers, the tramp always prays "our father," and that he may be kept for the one who loves him. prayers are strong out of doors at night, for they are made at heaven's gate in the presence of the stars. an hour before dawn a new awakening. oh dear, night not gone! the tramp is vexed. the moon has finished her hunting, and is going out of the night with her dark huntsmen; she passes through the gate. peerless hunter! the sky is full of light, a sort of dull, paper-lantern light. in an hour it will be morning. the side on which i have been lying is sore. i turn over and reflect joyfully that when next i wake it will be day. moths are flitting in the dawn twilight: yes, in an hour it will be day. ah, ha, ha! the sleeper yawns and looks up. there is blue in the clouds, pale blue like that of a baby's eyes. a cart lumbers along the road, the first cart of the morning. i reflect that if i remain where i am people may come and look at me. ten minutes hesitation, and then suddenly i make up my mind and rise. i feel a miserable creature, a despicable sort of person, one who has lately been beaten, a beggar who has just been refused alms. in the half-light of dawn it seems i scarcely have a right to exist. or i feel a sort of self-pity. how often have i said as i gathered up my stiff limbs and damp belongings in the mist of the morning, "and the poor old tramp lifts himself and takes to the road once more, trudge, trudge, trudge--a weary life!" the mansion of my soul has been housing phantoms all the night. they may not stay after sunrise; they look out of my face with bleared eyes. it is they who gibber and chatter thus at dawn, leaving me with no more self-assurance than a man on ticket-of-leave. but as the sun comes up, behold the spirits evaporate, the films pass away from my eyes, and i am lighter, blither, happier, stronger. then in my heart birds begin to sing in chorus. i am myself once more. a fire, a kettle, and while the kettle boils, into the sea, giving my limbs to the sparkling, buoyant water. then am i super-self, if such an expression may be permitted. so passes the vagabond's night. thus somehow one comes into new harmony with nature, and the personal rhythm enters into connection with all things that sleep and wake under the stars. one lives a new life. it is something like the change from bachelor to married life. you are richer and stronger. when you move some one else moves with you, and that was unexpected. whilst you live nature lives with you. i have written of the night, for the night hallows the day, and the day does not hallow the night except for those who toil. iii the lord's prayer the lord's prayer is a very intimate whispering of the soul with god. it is also the perfect child's prayer, and the tramp being much of a child, it is his. many people have their private interpretations of the prayer, and i have heard preachers examine it clause by clause. it can mean many things. it must mean different things to people of different lives. it is something very precious to the tramp. the tramp is the lonely one: walking along all by himself all day by the side of the sounding waves he is desolated by loneliness, and when he lies down at dusk all alone he feels the need of loving human friends. but his friends are far away. he becomes once more a little trusting child, one who, though he fears, looks up to the face of a great strong father. he feels himself encompassed about by dangers: perhaps some one watched him as he smoothed out his bracken bed; or if he went into a cave a robber saw him and will come later in the night, when he is fast asleep, murder him, and throw his body into the sea; or he may have made his bed in the path of the bear or in the haunt of snakes. many, many are the shapes of terror that assail the mind of the wanderer. how good to be a little boy who can trust in a great strong father to "deliver him from evil"! and each clause of that lovely prayer has its special reality. thus "give us this day our daily bread" causes him to think, not so much of getting wages on the morrow as of the kindly fruits of the earth that lie in the trees and bushes like anonymous gifts, and of the hospitality of man. most beautiful of all to the tramp is the wish--"thy kingdom come--thy will be done in earth as it is in heaven." for it is thus understood: thy will be done in earth--i am that earth. "thy kingdom come" means thy kingdom come in me--may my soul lie like a pure mirror before the beauty of the world, may the beauty of the world be reflected in me till the whole beautiful world is my heart. then shall my heart be pure, and that which i see will be god. thy will be done in me as it is done in heaven. and the tramp asks himself as he lies full length on the earth and looks up at the stars--are you a yea-sayer? do you say "yes" to life? do you raise your face in wonder to the beauty of the world? do you stand with bare feet in sacred places? do you remember always the mystery and wonder that is in your fellow-man whom you meet upon the road? ... "hallowed be thy name." does the wanderer love all things? it is a condition of all things loving him. he must have perfect peace in his heart for the kingdom to be built there.... "forgive us our trespasses." we may be tempted to forget thee, may fear danger and our hearts be ruffled, may be tempted to forget that our fellow-man is one like ourselves, with our mystery and wonder, and having a very loving human heart either apparent or prevented. we may be tempted to forget the mystery of our own souls. the tramp prays to be led not into such temptation. for, with the father above him, is the power, the kingdom, and the glory, for ever and ever. as i said, prayers are strong out of doors, made in the presence of all the stars. one is compassed about with a great cloud of witnesses. there is calm all around and in one's own heart. the mysterious beauty of the starry sky reflects itself in the soul, and across its mirror sails the pale moon. my own body becomes a cradle in which the little christ child sleeps. there are angels everywhere. i am in universal keeping, for the stars are all looking and pointing to me. because of the little child the shepherds near by hear heavenly harmony, and journeying through the night to the land of dreams come the three wonderful old kings with gifts. iv days it is because i have been tempered by the coldness of the night that i am not overwhelmed by the heat of the day. because the night is dark and cool and sweet i see the true colours of the day, and the noon sun does not dazzle me. the tramp's eyes open and then they open again: at midday his eyes are wider than those of indoor folk. he is nearer to the birds because he has slept with them in the bush. they also are nearer to him, for the night has left her mysterious traces upon his face and garments, something which humans cannot see, not even the tramp himself, but which the wild things recognise right enough. the tramp walks. his road is one that may only be walked upon. people on wheels are never on it: at least, i never met a wheel person who had seen on either side of the road what the tramp sees--and a road is not only a path, but that which is about it. the wheel is the great enemy of nature, whether it be the wheel of a machine or of a vehicle. nature abhors wheels. she will not be wooed by cyclists, motorists, goggled motor-cyclists, and the rest: she is not like a modern young lady who, despite ideals, _must_ marry, and will take men as they are found in her day and generation. the woman of the woods who dresses herself in flowers, and whose voice is as birds' songs, is the same yesterday, to-day, and to-morrow--not new-fangled. you must go to her; she will not come to you. you must live as she does. therefore the tramp moves _naturally_, on his feet. he comes into step. and sleeping out of doors, living in the sun, eating forest berries, washing in the stream or in the sea, all these are part of a coming into step. how this _coming back_ develops the temperament! i left the town timid, almost a townsman, expecting not only the dangers that were but also all those that were not. i half believed all the tales by which stay-at-home people tried to warn or frighten me. though taking the road with every aspect of carelessness and boldness, i confessed to my heart that i was a coward. then came my first week's tramping, and i emerged a different man. i felt bold. a few days later still i nursed a stick in my hand, saying, "if a robber comes, let him come! we'll have a struggle." leaving the town i scanned the faces of the passers-by apprehensively, and said "good-morning" or "good-evening" very meekly to all dangerous-looking persons, but a fortnight later i was even strutting on the road with a smile almost malicious on my lips. i felt myself growing wilder. the truth broke upon me in an introspective moment one morning as i was nearing sotchi. i felt i had changed. i stopped to take stock of my new life and ways. i had been living in the forest and on the seashore, away from mankind, on nature's gifts. all my days from dawn to sunset i hunted for food. my life was food-hunting. i certainly wrote not a line and thought less. in my mind formed only such elementary ideas as "soon more grapes," "these berries are not the best," "more walnuts," "oh, a spring; i must drink there." something from the ancient past was awakened. i saw a bunch of wild grapes, my heart leapt, and without a thought i jumped to it and took it. or i saw a fresh trickling stream pouring over the ledges of the rocks, and i rushed and pressed my lips to the bubbling water. there was no intermediary between nature's gifts and the man who needed them. wish was translated into act without the aid of thought. one day i was lost in the forest among the giant tangles and i was not at all anxious to find the way out again. perhaps i might have lived there all the autumn, and only when the berries and nuts were exhausted and the cold winter winds sought me out should i come skulking back to the haunts of men like some wild animal made tame by winter. i was aware, therefore, of a new experience, a modification in personality, a change of rhythm. i was walking with nature, marching with her, with all her captains the great trees and her infantry the little bushes, and i caught in my ears her marching music. i was thrilled by the common chord that makes crowds act as one man, that in this case made my heart beat in unison with all the wild things. i may as well say at once i love them all and am ready to live with them and for them. v the question of the sceptic "that's all very well, but don't you often get bored?" asked a sceptic. "i enjoy a weekend in the country, or a good sunday tramp in richmond park or epping forest. i take my month on the yorkshire moors with pleasure, or i spend a season in switzerland or spain, and i don't mind sleeping under a bush and eating whatever i can get in shepherds' cottages. i can well appreciate the simple life and the country life, but i'm perfectly sure i should pine away if i had to live it always. i couldn't stand it. i'd rather be debarred from the country altogether than not go back to town. the town is much more indispensable to me. i feel the country life is very good in so far as it makes one stronger and fitter to work in town again, but as an end in itself it would be intolerable." this was a question i needed to answer not only to the sceptic but to myself. it is true the wanderer often feels bored, even in beautiful places. i am bored some days every year, no matter where i spend them, and i shall always be. i get tired of this world and want another. that is a common feeling, if not often analysed. there is, however, another boredom, that of the weariness of the body, or its satiety of country air; the longing for the pleasures of the town, the tides of the soul attracted by the moon of habit. the tramp also confesses to that boredom. but when he gets back to the town to enjoy it for a while he swiftly finds it much more boring than the country. if every one went to the country and lived the simple life when he was inclined, the size of european towns would be diminished to very small proportions. the evil of a town is that it establishes a tyranny and keeps its people against the people's true desires. i said to my sceptical friend: "those who praise the simple life and those who scoff at it are both very extravagant as a rule. let the matter be stated temperately. the tramp does not want a world of tramps--that would never do. the tramps--better call them the rebels against modern life--are perhaps only the first searchers for new life. they know themselves as necessarily only a few, the pioneers. let the townsman give the simple life its place. every one will benefit by a little more simplicity, and a little more living in communion with nature, a little more of the country. i say, 'come to nature altogether,' but i am necessarily misunderstood by those who feel quickly bored. good advice for all people is this--live the simple life as much as you can _till you're bored_. some people are soon bored: others never are. whoever has known nature once and loved her will return again to her. love to her becomes more and more." but whoever has resolved the common illusions of the meaning of life, and has seen even in glimpses the naked mystery of our being, finds that he absolutely must live in the world which is outside city walls. he wants to explore this desert island in space, and with it to explore the unending significance of his deathless spirit. vi a thing of beauty is a joy for ever rostof on the don is always beautiful when one leaves it to go south. nothing can efface from my mind the picture of it as i saw it when first going to the caucasus. the sunset illumined it with the hues of romance. all the multiplicity of its dingy buildings shone as if lit up from within, and their dank and mouldy greens and blues and yellows became burning living colours. the town lay spread out upon the high banks of the don and every segment of it was crowned with a church. the gilt domes blazed in the sunlight and the crosses above them were changed into pure fire. round about the town stretched the grey-green steppe, freshened by the river-side, but burned down to the suffering earth itself on the horizon. then over all, like god's mercy harmonising man's sins, the effulgence of a light-blue southern sky. by that scene i have understood the poet's thought-- to draw one beauty into the heart's core and keep it changeless. * * * * * yet how transient is the appearance of beauty. it has an eternity not in itself but in the heart. thus i look out at the ever-changing ocean and suddenly, involuntarily ejaculate, "how beautiful!" yet before i can call another to witness the scene it has changed. only in the heart the beauty is preserved. thus we see a woman in her youth and beauty, and then in a few years look again and find her worn and old. the beauty has passed away; its eternity is in the heart. we have a choice, to live in the shadow and shine of the outer life where visions fade, or to live with all the beauty we have ever known, where it is treasured, in the heart. choosing the former we at last perish with the world, but choosing the latter we ourselves receive an immortality in the here and now. the one who chooses the latter shall never grow old, and the beauty of his world can never pass away. * * * * * nietzsche could not tolerate the doctrine of the "immaculate perception" of beauty. to him beauty was _une promesse de bonheur_; beauty was a lure and a temptation, it had no virtue in itself, but its value lay in the service rendered to the ulterior aims of nature. thus the beauty hung in woman's face was a device of the life-force for the continuance of the race; strange beauty lured men to strange ends, and one of these ends the german philosopher divined and named as the superman. even the beauty of nature was merely a temptation of man's will. the kantian conception of the disinterested contemplation of beauty nietzsche likened to the moon looking at the earth at night and giving the earth only dreams; but the stendhalian conception of beauty as a promise of happiness he likened to the sun looking at the earth and causing her to bear fruit. darwin as much as said, "beauty has been the gleam which the instinct of the race has followed in its upward development. beauty has been the genius of evolution." thus science has lent its authority to philosophy. the idea is charming. in its power it is irresistible. it certainly dominates modern literary art, being the principal dynamic of ibsen and bernard shaw and all their followers. it is a very important matter. there can be nothing more important in literary art, and indeed in one's articulate conception of the meaning of life, than the notion of what is beautiful. what if this conception be narrow, what if it be simply a generalisation, a generalisation from too few observations? what if the wish were father to the thought? the only test of philosophy and art is experience. and it is the wanderer, the life-explorer without irrelevant preoccupations, who is the true naturalist, collecting experiences and making maps for spiritual eyes. what then does the wanderer note? first, that the knowledge of the beautiful is an affirmation. something in the soul suddenly rises up and ejaculates "yes" to some outside phenomenon, and then he is aware that he is looking at beauty. as he gazes he knows himself in communion with what he sees--sometimes that communion is a great joy and sometimes a great sadness. thus, looking at the opening of dawn he is filled with gladness, his spirits rising with the sun; he wishes to shout and to sing. he is one with the birds that have begun singing and with all wild nature waking refreshed after the night. but looking out at evening of the same day over the grey sea he is failed with unutterable sorrow. i remember how all night long in the north region, where the light does not leave the sky, i looked out at the strange beauty of the white night and felt all the desolateness of the world, all the exiledom of man upon it. there was no lure, no temptation in that. the aeolian harp of the heart does not always discourse battle music, and on this night it was as if an old sad minstrel sat before me and played unendingly one plaint, the story of a lost throne, of a lost family, lost children, a lost world. thus a thought came to me: "we are all the children of kings; on our spiritual bodies are royal seals. sometime or other we were abandoned on this beautiful garden, the world. we expected some one to return for us; but no one came. we lived on, and to forget homesickness devised means of pleasure, diversions, occupations, games. some have entirely forgotten the lost heritage and the mystery of their abandonment; their games absorbed them, they have become gamblers, they have theories of chance, their talk is all of progress of one sort or another. they forget the great mystery of life. we tramps and wanderers remember. it is our religion to remember, to count nothing as important beside the initial mystery. for us it is sweeter to remember than to forget. the towns would always have us forget, but in the country we always remember again. what is beautiful is every little rite that reminds us of our mysteries." this is a most persistent experience, and beauty thereby promises us happiness, but in a strange way seems to tell of happiness past. it lures not forward unless to the exploration of the "prison-house" once more. even the beauty of woman is not always a lure. there is a beauty in woman which makes one glad, but there is the beauty that haunts one like a great sadness, besides the beauty that draws one nearer to her. there is the seductive beauty of cleopatra, but there is also the almost repulsive beauty of medea, and besides both there is the mysterious beauty of helen or of eve. beauty is also a great possession, and that is another conception, another mystery. we lie like a mirror in the presence of beauty, and it builds the very temple of our souls. beauty is the gold of earthly experience. it is essentially that which in looking round our eyes like best, that which they say swiftly "yes" to. we enter into communion with the beautiful as with a beloved object. we make it part of ourselves. we absorb it into that which is integral and immortal--our very essence. "a thing of beauty is a joy for ever: its loveliness can never pass away" is a truth of experience, not the idle fancy of the poet. for to have seen the beautiful is not inconsequential, it is not even a responsibility entirely your own; the beautiful thing has also seen you. henceforth your life can never be quite the same, and the beautiful thing looked upon has either become less or more beautiful. vii a still-creation-day the blue-green sea is living velvet, and full of light-rings; it goes out to a distant mauve horizon, near which sea-gulls with white gleaming wings are flying. many gulls are fluttering on the red buoys in the water. it is late in a december afternoon on the south coast of the crimea. it is yalta, beloved of all russians, and i have come tramping to it--which russians never do--and i am intending to spend lazy days looking with the gay town and all its white villas at the glorious spectacle of the southern sea. all the rest of russia is gripped by winter, but here there is sanctuary and forgiveness. i have been tramping on the cold, cold steppes, frozen, forced to get back into myself and hide like the trees, and when i came here it seemed somehow as if nature herself had been angry with me, relented, and was now showing me all her tenderness again. all along the road i found violets in the little bushes, and i wore them as a forgiveness gift from a woman that i love. when a woman smiles upon a man she bids him live, and when she frowns he can but die. to-day the woman of all women has smiled on me, nature herself. along the road i had that pleasant life with myself that one has the day after one's birthday, when one has kept good resolutions two days. my old self carried, as it were, within me a little child, and the child chattered and lisped to me. delightful tramping along a road high over the shore! below me, stretching far to east and to west, blue and glorious like summer, was the immense sea, all in dazzling radiance under the noonday sun. a bank of grey-blue mist lay over the south, and marked the domain where winter was felt. up above me stood great grey rocks, stained here and there the colour of rose porphyry. the tops of these rocks, even here as i look up at them from yalta, are outlined with a bright white line--winter and hoar-frost hold sway there also. i have been in the sight of nut-brown hillsides, something absolutely perfect, the warm living colour of thousands of little, closely packed french oak trees, all withered, and holding still their little withered leaves. the colour of these hills was the colour of nature's eyes. there was silence too--such wonderful silence, one could hear one's own heart beating. such a morning was indeed what richter calls a "still-creation-day," that still silence of the heart that prefaces new revelation, as the brooding of the dove on the waters the creation of a world. you must know i saw the dawn, and have been with the sun all day. i slept at a greek coffee-house, but was up whilst the sky was yet dark and the waves all cloudy purple. there was just one gleam of light in the dark sky, just one little promise. the great cliffs were all in their night cloaks, and night shapes were on the road. all nature was in the night world, and i felt as if i were continuing my last night's tramping, and not starting upon a new day. yet in the night of my heart was also just that one gleam of whiteness in the east, one little promise. i knew the whiteness must get more and more, and the darkness less and less. i stood on the cliff road and watched the waves become all alive, playing with their shadows as the light diffused in the sky, and the white lines of the east turned to rosy ribbons. then the dawn twilight came and the night shapes slunk away. the tartars and greeks took down their shutters in the little village hard by. the sea became green, the rocks all grey, and then, as i watched, the rim of the sun rose over the horizon and the sea held it as a scimitar of fire. the white disc rose, a miracle; it looked very large, as if it had grown bigger in the night. it paused a moment in the sea and then suddenly seemed to bound up from it: it flooded the world with light. then, as if from his hands angels were leaping, thousands of gulls were descried on the sea, their gleaming wings seeming to be the very meaning of morning. out of the sea under the dawn, dark dolphins came leaping toward the shore. the sea became a grey expanse over which the sun made a silver roadway. there commenced the quiet, quiet morning, and the still-creation-day. now the day is ending, and the sun goes down behind the hills at yalta, the mist bank over the southern horizon catches the reflection of true sunset tints, and transmits them to the velvety water, full of light-rings. i have been sitting on a pleasure seat on the sand all the afternoon, and now i go to the end of the long pier. there one may see another vision of the mystery of the day, for the sea-waves are full of living autumn colours, of luminous withered leaves and faded rose petals; they are still living velvet, the night garment of a queen. black ducks are swimming mysteriously on the glowing dusky water. in a moment, however, the scene has changed and the colours have been withdrawn. the presence in the world, the queen whom we call day, has passed over the waves and disappeared; not even a fold of the long train of her dress is visible. some one has lighted a roman candle at the far end of the pier, as a signal to a steamer whose white and red lanterns have just been descried upon the dark horizon. it is night: the day is over. viii sunset from the gate of baidari it was at the gate of baidari in the crimea on the shortest day of the year that i saw the most wonderful sunset i have ever known, and entered most completely into the spirit of the dark, quiet night. it was another vision of the sea, a presentment of the sea's question in a new light. a mild december afternoon. i had been some days wandering across pleasant tree-brown valleys and immense hollows mountain-walled. in the winter silence there was no murmur of the ocean, not even was there saltness in the air. i was out of the sight of the sea and had been so for several days. but this afternoon i climbed by a long road where were many berberry bushes vermilion with their berries, up to the pass over the hills, and there all at once by surprise, without the least expecting it, at a turn of the road i had a revelation of the whole sea. it was a ravishment of the eyes, a scene on which one looks, at which one stares. the road came suddenly to a precipice, and sheer down, two thousand feet below, the waves foamed forward on the rocks, and from the foam to the remote horizon lay the mysterious sleeping sea--no, not sleeping, but rather causing all else to sleep in its presence, for it was full of serpent lines all moving toward the shore. the whole wild mountainous crimean shore sat before the sea and dreamed. and i realised slowly all that was in the evening. below me lay the white tortuous road leading downward to the shore in coils, and clothing the road, the many woods, all hoary white because the sharp sea-breeze had breathed on them. evening had long since settled on the road and on the wintry trees; it lay also about the grey temple which the russians have put up on one of the platforms of the lower cliffs. the church looked so compact and small down below me that it seemed one could have held it in the palm of the hand. it was sunset, but the sky was full of blue-grey colour. the whole south caught a radiance from the hidden west and the sea was grey. in a moment it is noticeable that the south is becoming rosier. the sea is now alight from the increase of sunset hues. in the shadow the lines of the sea are a sequence of wavings like the smoke of the snow blown over the steppes. in the hurrying clouds a great space clears, and along the south-west runs a great rosy fleece of sunset. it is rapidly darkening. the sea in the western corner is crimson, but all the vast south is silver and sombre. the horizon is like that seen from a balloon--pushed out to its furthermost, and there, where clouds and sky mingle, one sees fantastically as it were the sides of giant, shadowy fish. the motor-coach, with its passengers from sebastopol to yalta, comes rushing and grumbling up behind me and stops five minutes, this being its half-way point. the passengers adjourn into the inn to drink vodka: "remember, gentlemen, five minutes only," says the chauffeur. "god help any one who gets left behind at baidari...." four minutes later there is a stamping of fat men in heavy overcoats round the brightly varnished 'bus. "are we going?" says a little man to the refreshed but purple-faced chauffeur. "yes!" "that's good. i've had enough of this." the guard winds his horn, and after a preliminary squirm of the plump tyres on the soft road, the vehicle and its company goes tumbling down the road as if it were descending into a pit. and the sunset! it develops with every instant. the lines on the sea seem to move more quickly, and the spaces between them to be larger. the west is full of storm. a closing cloud comes up out of the west: the western sea is utterly hopeless, the moving south inexorable. there is terror in the west. evening is more below me than above me. night is coming to me over the dark woods. the foam on the rocks below is like a milk-white robe. as i walk the first miles downhill i begin to hear the sound of the waves. the sea is beginning to roar, and the wind rushing up to me tells me that the lines of the sea are its stormy waves ridden forward to the shore by a gale. i stood on the platform where the many-domed temple was built, and watched the gathering night. unnumbered trees lay beneath me, but it was so dusk i hardly knew them to be trees. the gigantic black cliff that shuts off the west stood blank into the heaven like a great door: to the east lay the ghostly fading coast-line of aloopka. among the black clouds overhead danced out happy fires, and, answering their brightness, windows lighted up in cottages far below, and lanterns gleamed on a little steamer just puffing over the horizon. there came the pure december evening with frost and christmas bells, and happy hearths somewhere in the background. the one star in the sky was a beckoning one: my heart yearned. i dipped down upon the road, and in a few minutes was looking at the temple from below, seeing it entirely silhouetted against the sky. it was now indeed held up in a giant's palm and looked at. far out at sea now lay a silver strand; the lines of the waves were all curves and heavily laden with shadows--they were, indeed, waves. far above me the cliffs that i had left were mist-hidden, and in the midst shone a strange light from the last glow of sunset in the unseen west. night. at a word the sea became lineless and shapeless. the sunset sky was green-blue, and black strips of cloud lay athwart it. looking up to the crags above me, i missed the church: it was in heaven or in the clouds. a great wind blew, and ceased, and came no more--the one gust that i felt of a whole day's storm on the coast. night chose to be calm, and though all the waves called in chorus upon the rocks, there was a silence and a peace within the evening that is beyond all words. i walked with the night. i walked to find an inn, and yet cared not that the way was far and that men dwelt not in these parts. for something had entered into me from nature, and i had lived an extra life after the day was done. it was not one person alone that, pack on back, walked that dark and quiet crimean road. and the new spirit that was with me whispered promises and lingered over secrets half-revealed. i came to know that i should really enter into it, and be one with it, that i should be part of a description of night and part of night itself. at one of the many turnings of the road i came upon five dreamy waggons, and tartar waggoners walked by the horses, for their loads were heavy. i made friends with the third waggoner, and he asked me to carry his whip and take his place whilst he talked with one of his mates. for eight miles i walked by the side of the plodding horses, and encouraged them or whipped them, coaxed or scolded them, as they slowly dragged their lumberous merchandise along the dark and heavy roads. i almost fell asleep, but at an inn half-way i drank tea with the waggoners "cheek by jowl and knee by knee," and they saw me as one of themselves. once more on the road--we went nearly all the way to aloopka. the tartars sang songs, the beasts of burden toiled; on one side the cliffs overwhelmed us, and on the other lay the dark sea on which the stars were peeping. the still night held us all. ix the meaning of the sea i it is good to live ever in the sight of the sea. i have been tramping two months along seashores, and living a daily life in the presence of the infinite. from novorossisk to batoum, eight hundred and fifty versts, i have explored all that coast of the black sea that lies at the feet of the caucasus--to left of me the snow-peaked mountains shoulder to shoulder under heaven, to right the resplendent, magnificent sea. "the sea cannot be described," wrote chekhov; "i once read in a child's copy-book an essay on the sea, four words and a full stop--'the sea is large'--and whenever i attempt a description, i am obliged to confess that i can do no better than the child." the fact is, the sea describes us; that is why we cannot describe it. it is, itself, language and metaphor for the telling of our own longings and our own mysteries. in the sound of the waves is only the song of man's life; in the endless variety of its appearance only the story of our own mystery. thus the sea is all things. they call this the black sea, and at evening when the clouds in the high heaven are reflected in it, it is indeed black. but it should be called the many-coloured, for indeed it is all colours. in the full heat of noon, as i write, it is white; it is covered with half-visible vapour through which a greenness is lost in pallor. the horizon is the black line of a broken arc. other days it is blue as a great ripe plum, and the horizon is faint-pink, like down. on cloudy afternoons it is grey with unmingled sorrow; in early morning it is joyous as a young child. i have seen it from a distance piled up to the sky like a wall of hard sapphire. i have seen it near at hand faint away from the shore, colourless, lifeless, in the heart-searching of its ebb tide. it is all things, at all times, and to all persons. ii at dzhugba the sea was quiet as a little lake; at dagomise it was many-crested and thundering in the majesty of storm. at gudaout the sun rose over it as it might have done on the first morning of the world. every dawning i bathed, and each bathing was as a new baptism. and in multifarious places it was given to me to bathe; at dzhugba, where the sun shone fiercely on green water and the dark seaweed washed to and fro on the rocks; at olginka, the quietest little bay imaginable, where the sea was so clear that one could count the stones below it, the rippling water so crystalline that it tempted one to stoop down and drink--a dainty spot--even the stones, on long curves of the shore, seemed to have been nicely arranged by the sea the night before, and far as i swam out to sea i saw the bottom as through glass. how different at dagomise! all night long it had thundered. i slept under a wooden bridge that spanned a dried-up river. the lightning played all about me, the rain roared, the thunder crashed overhead. the storm passed, but as the thunder died away from the sky, it broke out from the sea and roared deafeningly all around. i could not bathe, for the sea was tremendous. a grand sight presented itself at dawn, the sea foaming forwards in thousands of billows. along five miles of seashore the white horses galloped forward against the rocks, as if the whole sea were an army arrayed against the land. how the white pennons flew! later in the morning i undressed, and sitting in moderate safety on a shelf of rock, let the spent billows rush over me. the waves rushed up the steep beach like tigers for their prey, their eyes turned away from mine, but full of cruelty and anger. i was, deep in myself, afear'd. at what an extraordinary rate the waves rushed up the shore, fast galloping after one another, accomplishing their fates! there is only one line i know that tells well of their rate, that glory of swinburne:-- where the dove dipped her wing and the oars won their way, where the narrowing symplègades whiten the straits of propontis with spray. iii at osipovka, where i spent a whole long summer day sitting on a log on the seashore, i saw a vision of the sea and nymphs--a party of peasant girls came down and bathed. they were very pretty and frolicsome, taking to the water in a very different style from educated women. they were boisterous and wild. they went into the sea backwards, and let the great waves knock them down; they lay down and were buffeted by the surf; they ran about the shore, sang, shouted, yelled, waved their arms; they dived headlong into the waves, swam hand over hand among them, pulled one another by the legs. the sea does not know how to play games: it seemed like an ogre with his twelve princesses. they made sport of him, pulled his beard and his hair, tempted and evaded him, mocked him when he grabbed at them, befooled him when he captured them. i used to have an idea of nymphs behaving very artistically with really drawing-room manners, but i saw i was wrong. nymphs are only artistic and alluring singly--one nymph on a rock before a gallant prince. in numbers they are absolutely wild and have no manners at all. lucky old ogre, to possess twelve such princesses, i thought; but as i looked at the gleam of their limbs as they mocked, and heard their hard laughter, i found him to be but a pitiable old greybeard, for he looked at beauty that he could scarce comprehend and never possess. the beauty of life has power greater than the beauty of the sea. iv one night after i had made my bed on a grassy sand-bank above the sea and was waiting, in the thrilling and breathless twilight, to fall asleep, i suddenly heard a sound as of a child weeping somewhere. my heart bounded in horror. i lay scarce daring to breathe, and then when there was silence again, looked up and down the shore for the person who had cried. but i saw no one. i listened--listened, expecting to hear the cry again, but only the waves turned the stones, broke, rolled up, and turned the stones again. evening crept over the sea, and the waves looked dark and shadowy; the silence grew more intense. i turned on one side to go to sleep, and then once more came a sad, despairing human cry as of a lost child. i sat bolt upright and looked about me, and even then, whilst i stared, the cry came again, and from the sea. "is it possible there is a child down by the waves?" i thought, and i tried to distinguish some little human shape in the darkness that seemed hastening on the shoulders of the incoming waves. there came a terrible wail and another silence. i dared not go and search, but i lay and shuddered and felt terribly lonely. the waves followed one another and followed again, ever faster and faster as it seemed in the darkness-- still on each wave followed the wave behind, and then another behind, and then another behind.... they came forward fantastically, and i felt as if i were lying in the presence of something most ancient, most terrible. presently a bird with great dark wings flew noiselessly just over my head, and then over the sea rose the moon, young, new drest, and i forgot the strange cry in the presence of a familiar friend. it was as if a light had been brought into one's bedroom. probably the cry was that of an owl; it came no more. i slept. v there was my walk to the forlorn and lonely monastery of pitsoonda on the promontory where the great lighthouse burns. along the seashore were swamps overgrown with bamboos and giant grasses, twelve feet high. the sea was grey and calm. lying on the sand, one saw the reflection, or the refracted images, of the grey stones at the bottom of the sea for twenty yards out and more. the sea had no power, it splashed in weak and hopeless waves, sucked itself away inward, came back again with a little run, and feebly toppled over. the high-water line was shown by a serpentine strip of jetsam winding along the whole of the shore. there was no yellow in the sands; clouds and sunshine struggled overhead, but beneath them all was grey. the wind rustled in the giant grasses like the sound of men on horseback, so that i was continually looking behind in apprehension. a land that is lonelier than ruin, a sea that is stranger than death. at a lonely house, half-way to the monastery, i thought to obtain bread, but as i approached it twelve large brown mastiffs rushed out and assailed me. i was in a pitiable plight, warding them off with my stick, and did not escape without bites. i called for help, and some one then whistled from a window and called the dogs back. i don't fear dogs, but these were powerful animals, and withal a tremendous surprise. i must have had a bad time had no one called them away. i came to the river bzib, deep and fast-running, and rowed myself across in a leaky and muddy boat. i ploughed my way through deep sand, or stepped from boulder to boulder, or crushed through miles of sea-holly and prickly shrub. i came to the sacred wood in which the ahkbasians used to pray when they were pagans, but in which, since their conversion, they have chiefly committed murder. i passed through three strange woods, the first of juniper and wild pear; the second, all dead, bleached and impenetrable, of what had once been hawthorn, but now one jagged, fixed mass of awkward arms and cruel thorns; the third, a beautiful, spacious pine-wood, climbing over cliffs to the far verge of the cape where the lighthouse flashes. these were like woods in a fairy tale, and may well have had each their own particular elves and spirits. each had a separate character: the first as of the earth, homely, full of gentle russet colours from the juniper and the wild fruit; the second, haggish, full of witches whose finger-nails had never been clipped; the third, queenly, as if beloved of diana. evening grew to night as i plodded past these woods or struggled through them. the temptation was to go into the wood and walk on firmer soil--but the thickets were many, and not a furlong did it profit me. then there were thorns, you must know, and abundant long-clawed creepers that grasped the legs and kept them fixed till they were tenderly extricated by the hand. when i came to the pine-wood it was night, and the many stars shone over the sea. i walked easily and gratefully over the soft pine needles, and i constantly sought with my eyes for the monastery domes. the moonlight through the pines looked like mist, and the forest climbed gradually over rising cliffs. far away on the dark cape i saw the flash of the lighthouse.... no houses, no people, only a faint cart-track. that track bade me hope. i would follow it in any case. at last, suddenly, i thought i saw the cloud of white smoke of a bonfire. it was the far-away monastery wall, high and white, with a little lamp in one window. i bore up with the distance, forms grew distinct in the night; i entered the monastery by a five-hundred-yard avenue of cedars. i met a novice in a long smock. he took me to the guest-rooms of the monastery, and there, to my joy, i was accommodated with a bed--the first for many weeks. i was introduced to a very fat and ancient monk who carried at his belt a bunch of keys. though very stupid, and, as i learnt afterwards, quite illiterate, he was the spirit of hospitality. he kept the larder, and very gladly brought me milk and bread and cheese, roast beef, wine, and would apparently have brought me anything i asked for--all "for the love of god": no monastery charges anything for its hospitality. after my supper i was glad to stretch my limbs and sleep. i opened my window and lay for a while looking at the mysterious dark masses of the cedars and listening to the low sobbing of the waves. in the monastery buildings i heard the turnings of heavy keys. i slept. next morning at sunrise i had breakfast in the refectory, and the abbot deigned to come in and talk about pitsoonda. his was an ancient and beautiful monastery, built by the same hand that erected st. sophia at constantinople, justinian the first. it was indeed a replica of that famous building, a fine specimen of byzantine architecture. it had changed hands many times, belonging to the greeks, the turks, the cherkesses, and finally to the russians. here formerly stood the fortified town of pitius, scarcely a stone of which was now standing, though many were the weapons and household implements that had been found by the monks. it was now the scene of the quiet life of twenty or thirty brethren. no one ever visited them or sought them from without. steamers never called--only occasional feluccas came in bringing caucasian tribesmen from neighbouring villages, and there was no carriage-way to any town. we talked later of present-day matters, the abbot being at once omniscient and omni-ignorant, and i finished my breakfast in time to accompany him to church. i went to morning service in the great high-walled cathedral and saw all the brothers pray. of the people of the neighbourhood there were only three; these with the monks formed the whole congregation--there is no village at pitsoonda. imagine a gigantic and noble building fit to be the living heart of a great metropolis, and inside of it but a few little pictures, brightly painted, and a diminutive rood-screen, scarcely higher than a five-barred gate. on the ceiling of the great dome was painted a lively and striking picture of christ, probably done of old time, but in countenance resembling, strangely enough, the accepted portrait of robert louis stevenson--a christ with a certain amount of cynicism, one who might have smoked upon occasion. no doubt it was painted by a greek: a russian would never have done anything so western. the monks, looking ancient and dwarf-like, for they had never cut their beards, were accommodated in little pews along the walls, and they could stand and rest their shoulders upon the high arms of the pews and doze, but could not sit, for there were no seats. the service was beautiful, though i had little feeling of being in church--one needs many people in such a cathedral. i was more interested in the monks, their faces and appearances, and in the atmosphere of the monastery. most of the monks were peasants, dedicated to the religion of christ and leading particularly strict lives. it was difficult to understand how they lived. their faces all bore witness to their religious exercises, and on some were evidences of spiritual meditation. they were all naturally rather stupid, and here more stupid than usual, because they were cut off from society, even from the society of their native villages. they did not study, or read, or write; they had no worldly life to occupy them--there was no means for it. they could gossip--yes, but i doubt if they even did that. assuredly here the middle ages slept. * * * * * round the monastery, behold, the ruins of a great fort, slowly crumbling away under the hand of time. no fleets now sail against pitius, no pirates land on the barren cape--there is nothing to steal. even the monastery is without gold. vi i cannot forget this walk of gloom and mystery, and my stay in this strange, sleeping monastery of the middle ages. but over and against it stands the bright morning of gudaout, four days later. gudaout is encompassed by the highest caucasus--its only refuge is the sea. it is a place most wonderful in the pageantry of dawn. picture my life of one evening and morning. i left gudaout at the dusk, and having bought myself a pound of purple grapes, strolled out along the dusty high road eating them. i made my bed on the seashore, and slept away the aches and pains of a heavy day's tramping. next day, in that sort of reflection of last evening which comes before the morning, i rose, for the coldest of october breezes had come down to me from the mountains. the dawn was all gold--a new dawn, i thought. but when i stood on my feet i saw below the gold the lovely bosom of the east, a beautiful, soft bed of creamy rose. it was an elemental sunrise, a veritable _first_ morning. distant mountains lay wrapped in dissolving mists, and seemed like the multifarious tents of a great army encamped on a plain--for the smooth sea was like a plain. the chamber of the dawn seemed gigantic, the mountains having lifted up the roof of heaven higher than i had ever seen it before, the sea having taken it out to a far horizon. i stood looking over the shore before sunrise, and far out in the bay were three high-masted feluccas, looking like ships of the spanish armada. at the water's edge, and yet silhouetted against the dawn sky, were mahometans, washing themselves and praying--stark, black figures in the strange light. i welcomed the sun. he rose swiftly out of the waters, and shone across the bay, lighting up all the mountains that closed in north and south. he came full of promises, and after the coolness and damp of the night i had need of heat. i lay on a bank and gleaned sunshine. the morning came over the sea steadily, equably, like a good ship making for a sure harbour. then, ten miles from gudaout, on a mountain, i looked out from the ruins of the tower of iver, over a vast resplendent sea, and saw below me the monastery of novy afon and all its buildings, looking like children's toys. that tower was a stronghold of christianity in the third century, and it was strange to think that crusaders and mediaeval warriors had looked out from the same tower, over the same glorious sea. assuredly from the watch-tower of ancient time all buildings and man's dwellings are but toys. i thought of that when i rowed across the river phasis, and drank coffee at poti on the site of colchis. that black sea and that river were the same which jason sailed with his heroes; and the golden fleece, those children's toy, has now, forsooth, become a head-gear in these parts. we all pass away, but the sea remains the same; and all our empires and literatures, arts and towns, crumble and decay, and are proved toys. our consolation lies in our unconquerable souls, our glorious after-life beyond this world. but the sea has an immortality in the here and now. i shall never understand its secret. a stage is reached when i cease to look at the sea, and allow the sea to look into me, when i give it habitation in my being, and am thereby proved, by virtue of my soul, something mightier than it. but in vain do we try to take the sea's mystery by storm. in vain do we search for its meaning with love. it lies beyond our mortal ken, deeper than ever plummet sounded. "is not the sea the very peacock of peacocks?" asks nietzsche. "even before the ugliest of all buffaloes it unfoldeth its tail and never wearieth of its lace fan of silver and gold." but the sea is not moved by slander. "roll on, thou deep and dark blue ocean, roll!" sings byron in praise, but the sea is not encouraged. it hearkeneth not, even unto kings. it is that which changes but is itself unchanged. it manifests itself continually in change, and yet it is itself ever the same, ever the same. it reveals itself to man in the majesty and terror of storm, or in the joyousness of peace; when with leaden eye it glowers upward at the leaden clouds, or when the rain sweeps over it in misery. but the secret of the sea lies beyond all these, hidden in the depths, profound, sublime. ii i hospitality i i imagine that whilst the prodigal son sat at meat with his father and their guests, there may have come to the door a weary tramp begging food and lodging. the elder brother would probably refuse hospitality, saying, "you are not even my sinning brother, and shall i harbour _you_?" the father in his wine might cry a welcome--"let him come in for the sake of my son found this day; he also was a tramp upon the road." the prodigal would say to his steady-going, sober elder, "you say he is not your brother; but he is mine, he is my brother wanderer." "oh, come in then," the elder brother would retort; "but you must do some work--we can't encourage laziness. you may have shelter and food, but to-morrow you must work with us in the fields till midday." this counsel of the elder brother has endured, and is accounted wise. but this type of hospitality is not of that sort that was rewarded, say, in eager heart. it is scarcely what the writer to the hebrews intended when he said, "let brotherly love continue. be not forgetful to entertain strangers: for thereby some have entertained angels unawares." of those who wander about the world there are many ordinary men who would be ready to do a morning's work for their board, but there are also gods in disguise. there are mysterious spirits who cannot reveal the necessities of their fate; souls whom if we could recognise in their celestial guise we should worship, falling down at their feet with the humility of the cry, "i am not worthy that thou shouldest come under my roof." there is another important objection to the complexion of the elder brother's hospitality. perhaps the tramp would of his own accord have volunteered to work with them next morning. if so, the tramp was deprived of his chance of giving in return. what would have been his gift has been made his price. he should not have been asked to pay. no one asks a brother to pay for food and shelter. and are we not all brothers? true hospitality is a sign of the brotherhood of man, and the open threshold symbolises the open heart. inhospitality is the sign that man will not recognise the stranger as his brother. there are two sorts of hospitality, that which gives all it has and that which gives what you want--the former growing out of the latter. the one is prodigal and overflowing generosity, almost embarrassing in its lavishness, the other the simple and ordinary kindness that will always give what it has when there is need; the one the hospitality of mary who poured out the precious ointment, the other the simple hospitality and homely kindness of martha; the one is the glory of sacrifice and is of one day in a year or of one day in a life, the other is a sacred due and is of every day. the latter should at least be universal hospitality. it ought to be possible for man to wander where he will over this little world of ours and never fail to find free food and shelter and love. i know no greater shame in national development than the commercialisation of the meal and the night's lodging. it has been our great disinheritance. but, of course, it would be folly to demand hospitality or to attempt to enforce it. it is like the drunken cobbler who said to his wife, "you don't love me, curse you, but by god you shall if i have to kill you first." even if a paternal government made a law that hospitality was obligatory and that whoever asked a night's lodging must be given it, then at one blow the whole idea of hospitality would be annihilated. hospitality must be something freely given, flowing genially outward from the heart. when in the _merchant of venice_ the duke says, "then must the jew be merciful!" and shylock asks with true jewish commercialism, "on what compulsion must i, tell me that?" then portia gives the eternal answer-- the quality of mercy is not strained, it droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven upon the place beneath: it is twice blessed; it blesseth him that gives and him that takes. need it be said mercy and hospitality are in many respects one and the same, and that when portia says, "we do pray for mercy and that same prayer doth teach us all to render the deeds of mercy," it is like saying, "we pray for hospitality in heaven and that prayer teaches us to render hospitality here," like "forgive us our trespasses as we forgive them that trespass against us." we shall never be homeless, either here or hereafter, if we love one another. the shelter and food given one for the love of god are "sanctified creatures." sleeping in a home for the love of god is more refreshing than sleeping at an inn for a price. one has been blessed and one has also blessed in return; for again, hospitality, like mercy, blesses both those who give and those who take. throughout a night one has helped to constitute a home, and the angels of the home have guarded one. one has lain not merely in a house but in a christian home, not only in a home but in the temple of the heart. it is sweet in a far-away land to be treated like a son or a brother, to be taken for granted, to be embraced by strange men and blessed by strange women. sweet also is it for the far-away man to recognise a new son or a new brother in the wanderer whom he has received. i remember one night at the remote village of seraphimo in archangel government, how a peasant put both hands on my shoulders and, looking into my eyes, exclaimed, "how like he is to us!" ii tramping across the crimean moors i lost my way in the mist near the monastery of st. george, and was conducted by a peasant to the greek village of kalon, well known to old campaigners--it is between sebastopol and balaklava. the village remains the same to-day as it was in the days of the crimean war, and the same families as lived there then, or their descendants, live there now. i visited the _starosta_, and he indicated a home where i might sleep the night. i was taken in by an aged greek woman and entertained among her family. they brought me bread and wine, and spread out the best couch for me. the sons told me of hunting exploits with the bear and the wild boar; they told me how at christmas time the wild turkeys fly overhead in such numbers that it is the easiest thing in the world to shoot one's christmas dinner--and i thought that very convenient. when the sons were silent, or talking among themselves, the old dame told me about her youth: how she was only seventeen years old at the time of the war; how the english were the most handsome of all the soldiers, how the turks were the most lazy and the most brutal, how the french and the italians simpered; how the english soldiers were loved by the greek girls, how they were also more generous than the other troops and gave freely clothes and tea and sugar and whatever was needed in the cottages and asked no money for it whatever; how in these days the little children played with the cannon-balls, rolling them over the moors and up the village street--all manner of gossip the good old lady told me, beguiling the hours and my ears till it was bedtime. next day i offered to pay at least for my food, but the old lady, though poor, waved her hand and said, "oh no, it is for the love of god!" how often have i had that said to me day after day in russia, especially in the north! another day in imeritia, when i passed at evening through a little caucasian village and was beginning to wonder where i should have my supper and find a night's lodging, a georgian suddenly hailed me unexpectedly. he was sitting, not in his own house, but at a table in an inn. there were of course no windows to the inn, and all the company assembled could easily converse with the horsemen and pedestrians in the street below. he called out to me and i went up to him. a place was made for me at the table, and he ordered a chicken and a bottle of wine. i was just a little doubtful, for i had never seen the man before and his anticipation of my needs was surprising, but i accepted his invitation, drank his health, and ate my meal. he looked at me very pleasantly, and he was more sensible than a russian, the sort of person who is marvellously interested in you, but who is so gentle that he will ask no questions lest you find some pain in answering him. but i told him about myself. after the meal he took me along to his house and gave me a spare bed. all was very disorderly and he apologised, saying, "it is untidy, but i am a bachelor. what is a bachelor to do? if i were married all would be different." i spent a whole day with him, and in that short space he conceived for me as it seemed an eternal friendship. "you are very good," i said at parting. "you have been very hospitable. i don't know how to thank you...." he stopped my words. "no, no," he said, "it is only natural; it is no doubt what any one would do for me in your country were i a stranger there." "would they?" i thought. by the way, a curious example of inhospitality showed itself in this village where i met the georgian. we were sitting round a pitcher of sweet rose-coloured wine, and one of us signalled to a rather morose akhbasian prince who was passing, but he took no notice. "he will not drink wine with us," said my friend. "his wife is so beautiful." "what _do_ you mean?" i asked. "his wife is very beautiful and he is as jealous of her as she is beautiful. he is like a dog who growls when he has suddenly got something very good in his mouth: he fears any familiarity on the part of other dogs." as a tramp i have often felt how little i had to give materially for all the kindness i have received. but even such as myself have their opportunities of reciprocity, though they are of a humble kind. i call to mind a cold, wet day near batoum, how i had a big bonfire by a stream under a bridge and i warmed myself, cooked food, and took shelter from the rain. a caucasian man and woman, both tramps, came and sat by my fire a long while. the man took from his breast some green tobacco leaves, dried them by the fire, and put them in his pipe and smoked them. they spoke a language quite unintelligible to me and knew not a word of russian. but they were nevertheless extremely demonstrative and told me all manner of things by signs and gestures. very poor, even starving, and i gave them some bread and beef and some hot rice pudding from my pot. in return the man gave me five and a half walnuts! we seemed like children playing at being tramps, but i felt a very lively affection for these strange wanderers who had come so trustingly to my little home under the bridge. one of the beautiful things about hospitality is that though we do not pay the giver of it directly, we do really pay him in the long run. a is hospitable to b, b to c, c to d, and so on, and at last z is hospitable to a. it is largely a matter of "forgive us our trespasses as we forgive them that trespass against us." it is significant that the russian's parting word equivalent to our "god be with you" is "forgive!" iii when st. peter said to the beggar, "silver and gold have i none, but such as i have give i thee," it is not to be thought that he hadn't a few coppers to spare. he meant, "silver and gold are not my gifts; i have something other and more precious." thus the apostle indicated the deeper significance of charity. there is hospitality of the mind as well as of the hand, though both spring from the heart. hospitality of the hand is having a home with open doors, but that of the mind is having open the temple of the soul. i once called upon a hermit and we talked of the significance of hospitality. at last he said to me: "you praise hospitality well, my brother, but there is another and a greater hospitality than you have yet mentioned. it is the will to take the wanderer not only into the house to feed but into the heart to comfort and love, the ability to listen when others are singing, to see when others are showing, to understand when others are suffering. it is what the writer to the corinthians meant by charity. "thus--'though i speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not charity, i am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal,' is like saying, 'though i have all possible eloquence and yet do not understand mankind, do not take him to my heart, i am as sounding brass; unless my eloquence is music played upon the common chord i am but a tinkling cymbal.' "'and though i have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries, and all knowledge; and though i have all faith, so that i could remove mountains, and have not charity, i am nothing,' is like saying, 'though i see into the future but misunderstand its significance; though i understand all mysteries, but not the mystery of the human heart; though i am able to remove obstacles by faith, i am simply like napoleon, finishing up at st. helena, i am nothing.' "'and though i bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though i give my body to be burned, and have not charity, it profiteth me nothing,' is like saying, 'organised philanthropy is not charity, neither is the will to be a martyr, unless these things spring from the will to feel how our brothers suffer.' "'charity suffereth long, and is kind; charity envieth not; charity vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up, doth not behave itself unseemly, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil; "'rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth,' for the truth refutes all uncharitable judgment, the truth shows us all as brothers, shows us all needing the love which one man can give to another. "'charity beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things. charity never faileth.'" i understood the hermit though it seemed to me there was much that he left out. had he been a tramp instead of a hermit he would probably have thought as i do. the world that he talked of was obviously one entirely of men and women, and he left out of account all that world which we call nature. it is well to receive men and shelter them and feed them, and well to understand their hearts, but when men are not near there is another beautiful world knocking at our doors and asking hospitality in our souls; it is the world of nature. oh ye young of all ages, be hospitable unto nature, open your doors to her, take her to your hearts! she will rebuild your soul into a statelier mansion, making for herself a fitting habitation, she will make you all beautiful within. then, when you extend the hospitality of your hearts, your _temples_, to man, they will be spacious temples and rich hearts. nature comes first, for she heals hearts' wounds; if you have not received her communion first you will not be so fit to receive man. the consumptive-bodied already go to the country, and we are nearly all of us, in this era of towns, consumptive-souled. we need whole hearts just as we need whole lungs. but what am i saying? i am bidding you bargain with nature for a price, and that is wrong. you must love her, not for anything she can give you. what is more, you can never know what she will give you: she may even take away. when you see her you will love her as a bride. be receptive to her beauty, be always eager heart. when any man receives her into himself there is born in his soul's house the baby christ, the most wonderful and transfiguring spirit that man has yet known upon a strange world. ii the story of the rich man and the poor man on my way to jerusalem i tramped through a rich residential region where wealthy armenians, turks, and russians dwelt luxuriously in beautiful villas looking over the sea. i had been sleeping out, for the road was high and dry and healthy, but at last, entering a malarial region, i began to seek shelter more from man than from nature. one cold and cloudy night i came into the village of ugba and sought hospitality. there were few houses and fewer lights, and some feeling of awkwardness, or perhaps simply a stray fancy, prompted me to do an unusual thing--to beg hospitality at one of the luxurious villas. i had nearly always gone to the poor man's cottage rather than to the rich man's mansion, but this night, the opportunity offering, i appealed to the rich. i came to the house of a rich man, and as i saw him standing in the light of a front window i called out to him from a distance. in the dusk he could not make out who i was, but judging by my voice he took me for an educated man, one of his own class. "can you put me up for the night?" i asked. "yes," he replied cheerfully. "come round by the side of the house, otherwise the dogs may get in your way." but when the rich man saw me on his threshold a cloud passed over his eyes and the welcome faded from his face. for i was dressed simply as a tramp and had feet so tired that i had not troubled to take the signs of travel from my garments. i had a great sack on my back, and in my hand a long staff. the head of the house, a portly old gentleman with a long beard, interrogated me; his son, a limp smiling officer in white duck, peered over his shoulder; two or three others of the establishment looked on from various distances. "what do you want?" asked the old gentleman curtly, as if he had not heard already. "a lodging for the night," i said unhappily. "you won't find lodging here," said the greybeard in a false stentorian voice. and the little officer in white giggled. "you've made a mistake and come to the wrong house. we have no room." "a barn or outhouse would serve me nicely," i put in. the old man waved his hand. "no, no. you are going southward? you have strayed somewhat out of your path coming up here. there is a short cut to the main road. there you'll find a tavern." it was in my mind to say, "i am an englishman, a traveller and writer, and i am on a pilgrimage to jerusalem. you misdoubt my appearance, and are afraid of sheltering an unknown wanderer, but i am one whom you would find it interesting and perhaps even profitable to harbour." but my heart and lips were chilled. i had taken off my pack, but put it on again humbly and, somewhat abashed, prepared to leave. the family stood by staring. it was a very unusual thing for a poor tramp to come and ask hospitality. tramps as a rule knew better than to come to their doors. indeed, no tramp had ever come there before. it rather touched them that i should have believed they would shelter me. their refusal troubled them somewhat. "there's always plenty of room in the tavern," said the rich man to his wife. "and they'll be glad to have a customer." as i turned to go, some one brought a light, and a gleam fell on my face. the company expected to see the cringing, long-suffering face of a peasant in the presence of his master, but the light showed something different.... "he is perhaps one of our own class ... or ... god knows what ..." they thought, one and all. "it is hateful to have refused him. but no, if he is one of us, why does he come clothed like a common man? he has only himself to blame." the old man, feeling somewhat ashamed, offered to show me the way. he came out and pointed out the short cut to the tavern. "it is quite clear. i shall find the way," i said. "thank you." the old man halted as if he wished to say something more. "what now?" i asked myself. i said good-bye, and as i moved away he asked: "you are going far, belike!" "to jerusalem," i answered laconically. in russia there is only one thing to say when a man tells you he is going to jerusalem. it is, "pray for me there!" but somehow that request stuck in the old man's throat. when i got outside the park gates i pulled down my pack and took out of it the only thing that had stood between me and a night's lodging--a grey tweed sportsman's jacket--and i put it on, and with it a collar and tie, and i walked along the road in real sadness. for i felt wounded. i could forgive the man for doing so unto me, but it was hard to forgive him for doing so unto himself, unto us all. he had made life ugly for a moment, and made the world less beautiful. to-morrow the sun and the earth would be less glorious because of him. but i had only walked a few steps down the road from the rich man's house when i came to a poor peasant's hut where there burned one little light at a little square window. and i thought, "please god, i will not go to the tavern, which is possibly kept by a turk and is very dirty. i will try for a night's lodging here." i knocked at the door with my staff. there was a stirring inside. "who is there?" "one who wants a lodging for the night. it is late to disturb you, but i fear there will be rain." a peasant woman came to the door and unbarred it, and let me in. "ah, little father," she said, "you come late, and we have little space, as you see, only one room and a big family, but come in if you will." she turned up the little kerosene lamp and looked at me. "ai, ai," she said, "a _barin_." she looked at my coat and collar. "it will be but poor fare here." "not a _barin_" i urged, "but a poor wanderer coming from far and going farther still. i generally sleep under the open sky with god as my host and the world as my home, but to-night promises storm, and i fear to take cold in the rain." the peasant girl, for she was no more, busied herself with the samovar. "you must have something hot to drink, and some milk and eggs perhaps. my husband is not yet home from market, but he will come belike very soon, and will be very glad to find a stranger. he will rejoice. he always rejoices to give hospitality to strangers upon the road." when she had brought me a meal she fetched fresh hay from a barn and spread a quilt over it and made a bed for me, and would have given me her own pillow but that i pointed out that my pack itself made a very good resting-place for my head. then her husband came home, a strong kindly man, full of life and happiness, and he did rejoice as his little wife had promised. he was sorry he had not wine with which to entertain me. such people drink wine not more than twice in a year. and with these humble, gentle folk i forgot the rich man's coldness, and healed my heart's wounds. life was made beautiful again. to-morrow the sun would be as bright as ever. i slept in the comfortable warm bed on the floor of the poor peasant's hut, and the storm rolled overhead, the winds moaned and the rain fell. "you are going to jerusalem," said the good man and woman next morning, "pray for us there. it is hard for us to leave our little hut and farm, or we would go to the holy land ourselves. we should like to go to the place where the christ was born in bethlehem and to the place where he died." "i shall pray," i said; and i thought in my heart, "they are there in jerusalem all the time, even though they remain here. for they show hospitality to strangers." * * * * * but as i trudged along my way there seemed to be a pathos too deep for tears underlying my experiences at the hands of the rich man and of the poor man. that it should occur so in real life, and not merely in a moral tale! the position of the rich man is so defensible. of course it would have been ridiculous of him to have sheltered me. who was i? i had no introduction. what was i? i might have robbed him in the night ... or murdered. i was ill-dressed and poor, therefore no doubt covetous of his fine clothes and wealth. they would only have themselves to blame if they sheltered me and i did them harm. besides, was there not the tavern close by? all reason pointed to the tavern. but something troubled them, something in my face and demeanour! alas for such people! they forget that christ comes into this world not clothed in purple. they forget that christ is always walking on the road, and that he shows himself as one needing help. and always once in a man's life the pilgrim christ comes knocking at his door, with the pack of man's sorrows on his back and in his hand the staff which may be a cross. * * * * * i met the young officer in white next morning. he looked at me with a certain amount of surprise. i hailed him. "did you sleep well at the tavern?" he asked. "i found shelter at a peasant's house," i answered. "ah! that's well. i didn't think of that. you said you were going to jerusalem. why is that? evidently you are not russian." i told him somewhat of my plans. he seemed interested and somewhat vexed. "i said we ought to have taken you in," he said apologetically. "but you came so late--'like a thief in the night,' as the scripture saith." i sat down on a stone and laughed and laughed. he stared at me in perplexity. "'like a thief in the night,'" i cried out. "oh, how came you to hit on that expression? go on, please--'and i knew you not.' who is it who cometh as a thief in the night?" the officer smiled faintly. he was dull of understanding, but evidently i had made a joke, or perhaps i was a little crazed. he turned on his heel. "sorry we turned you away," he repeated, "but there are so many scoundrels about. if you're passing our way again be sure and call in. come whilst it's light, however." iii a lodging for the night dzhugba is an aggregation of cottages and villas round about the estuary of a little river flowing down from the caucasus to the black sea. on the north a long cliff road leads to novorossisk a hundred miles, and southward the same road goes on to tuapse, some fifty miles from maikop and the english oil-fields. i arrived at the little town too late to be sure of finding lodging. the coffee-house was a wild den of turks, and i would not enter it; most private people were in bed. i walked along the dark main street and wondered in what unusual and unexpected manner i should spend the night. when one has no purpose, there is always some real _providence_ waiting for the tramp. the quest of a night's lodging is nearly always the origin of mysterious meetings. it nearly always means the meeting of utter strangers, and the recognition of the fact that, no matter how exteriorly men are unlike one another, they are all truly brothers, and have hearts that beat in unison. thus did it happen that i met my strange host of dzhugba. a hatless but very hairy russian met me at a turning of the road, and eyeing me with lacklustre eyes asked me gruffly as a rude shopman might, "what do you want?" "a lodging for the night." the peasant reflected, as if mentally considering the resources of the little town. at last after a puzzling silence he put one fat hand on my shoulder, and staring into my face, pronounced his verdict-- "the houses are all shut up and the people gone to bed. there is no place; even the coffee-house is full. but never mind, you can spend the night in a shed over here. i shall find you a place. no, don't thank me; it comes from the heart, from the soul." he led me along to a lumber-room by the side of the plank pier. it contained two dozen barrels of "portlandsky" cement. the floor was all grey-white and i looked around somewhat dubiously, seeing that cement is rather dirty stuff to sleep upon. but, nothing abashed, my new friend waved his hand as if showing me into a regal apartment. "be at your ease!" said he. "take whatever place you like, make yourself comfortable. no, no thanks; it is all from god, it is what god gives to the stranger." he thereupon ran out on to the sand, for the shed was on the seashore, and he beckoned me to follow. to my astonishment, we found out there an old rickety bedstead with a much rent and rusted spring mattress--apparently left for me providentially. it was so old and useless that it could not be considered property, even in russia. it belonged to no one. its nights were over. i gave it one night more. the peasant was in high glee. "look what i've found for you," said he. "who could have expected that to be waiting outside for you? several days i have looked at that bedstead and thought, 'what the devil is that skeleton? whence? whither?' now i understand it well. it is a bed, the bed of the englishman on the long journey...." the mattress was fixed to an ancient bed frame--one could not call it bedstead--with twisted legs that gave under weight and threatened to break down. we brought the "contrapshun" in. "splendid!" said my host. "impossible," i thought, trying to press down the prickly wire where the mattress was torn. "no doubt you are hungry," my friend resumed. i assured him i was not in the least hungry, but despite my protestations he ran off to bring me something to eat. i felt sorry; for i thought he might be bringing me a substantial supper, and i had already made a good meal about an hour before. what was more, he lived at some distance, and i did not care to trouble the good man, or for him to waken up his wife who by that hour was probably sleeping. however, he was gone, and there was nothing to be done. i laid some hay on the creaking sorrow of a bed, and endeavoured to bend to safety the wilderness of torn and rusty wire. i spread my blanket over the whole and gingerly committed my body to the comfortable-seeming couch. imagine how the bed became an unsteady hammock of wire and how the contrivance creaked at each vibration of my body. i lay peacefully, however, looked at the array of cement barrels confronting me, and waited for my host. i expected a plate of chicken and a bottle of wine, and was gradually feeling myself converted to the idea that i wouldn't mind a nice tasty supper even though i had made my evening meal. what was my astonishment when the good man returned bearing a square-foot slice of black bread on which reposed a single yellow carrot! i looked curiously at the carrot, but my host said, "_nitchevo, nitchevo, vinograd_"--"don't worry, don't worry, a grape, that's all." he had also brought a kerosene lamp, which, however, lacked a glass. he stood it on one of the grey barrels and turned it monstrously high, just to show his largeness of heart, i suppose. i got up and turned it down because it was smoking, and he waved his hand once more deprecatingly, and turning the wick up and down several times, signified that i was to do with it exactly as i pleased. he left it smoking again, however. i put the thought of a good supper out of my mind and looked at the black bread with some pathos, as who would not after conjuring before the eyes a plate of chicken and a bottle of wine? however, it was indeed _nitchevo_, to use the russian phrase, a mere nothing. i averred i was not hungry and put the bread in my pack, of which i had made a pillow, and simulating comfort, said i thanked him and would now go to sleep. my host understood me, but was not less original in his parting greeting than in the rest. he shook hands with me effusively, and pointed to the roof. "one god," he said. "and two men underneath. two men, one soul." he looked at me benevolently and pointed to his heart. "two men, one soul," he repeated, and crossed himself. "you understand?" "i understand." then he added finally, "turn the lamp as high as you like," and suited the action to the word by turning it so high that one saw a dense cloud of smoke beyond the lurid flame. "good-night!" "good-night!" my queer guardian angel disappeared. i fastened the door so that it should not swing in the wind, and then climbed back into my wire hammock, stretched out my limbs, laid my cheek on my pack, and slept. nothing disturbed me, though i woke in the night, and looking round, missed the ikon lamp which would have been burning had i been in a home. it was a saint's day. the absence of the ikon told me the difference between sleeping in a house and sleeping in a home. perhaps it was because of this difference that my host blessed me so earnestly. next morning i sought my host in vain. he had apparently left the town before dawn with a waggon of produce that had to be carted to tuapse. at breakfast in the turkish coffee-house i looked with some amusement at the bread and carrot, discarded the latter, but munched the former to the accompaniment of a plate of chicken and a bottle of wine. my imagining, therefore, of the previous night was not altogether vain. all that was needed was that my comical host should look in. as it was, in his absence i drank his health with a georgian. iv socrates of zugdida i was travelling without a map, never knowing what i was coming to next, what long caucasian settlement or rushing unbridged river, and i came quite unexpectedly to a town. i had not the remotest idea that a town was near, and when i learned the name of the town i realised that i had never heard of it before--zugdida. this is no fairy story. zugdida veritably exists, and may be found marked on large maps. i came into it on a sunday evening, and found it one of the largest and most lively of all the caucasian towns i had yet visited; the shops and the taverns all open, the wide streets crowded with gaily dressed horsemen, the footways thronged with peasants walking out in sunday best. a remote town withal, not on the railways, and unvisited as yet by any motor-car--unvisited, because the rivers in these parts are all bridgeless. i was looking for a place where i might spend the night--towns are inhospitable places, and one is timorous of sleeping in a tavern full of armed drunkards--when i was hailed by a queer old man, who noticed that i was a stranger. he kept one of the two hundred wine-cellars of the town, and was able to give me a good supper and a glass of wine with it. he was an aged mingrelian, bald on his crown, but lank-haired, dreamy-eyed, stooping; he had a robinson crusoe type of countenance. i had come to one of the oldest inhabitants of zugdida, an extraordinary character. i asked him how the town had grown in his memory. "when i came here from the hills forty years ago," said he, "long before the russo-turkish war, there were three houses here--three only, two were wine-cellars. now zugdida is second only to kutais. i remember how two more wine-cellars were built, and a small general shop, then a bread shop, then two more wine--cellars, two little grocer's shops, some farm-houses. we became a fair-sized village, and wondered how we had grown. the russians came and built stone houses and a military barracks, a prison, a police-station, and a big church; then came the hotel of russia, the universal stores. we built the broad, flag-stoned market, and named a fair day; saddlery and sword shops opened, blacksmiths, gunsmiths, coppersmiths, jewel workers, tailors; singer's sewing machines came, two more hotels, and we grew and grew. we have now over two hundred taverns. we have offered the government to pay for all the necessary land, and defray all minor expenses, if they will connect us with poti by railway, and if it were not that so many people want bribes we should be part of europe. as it is, we're just a bit of the old caucasus." he pointed to a group of drunkards, all armed from head to foot, but now clinging to one another and raising their voices in asiatic chanting. after supper--a stew of mutton and maize, with a bottle of very sweet rose-coloured wine--the old man took me aside and made me a long harangue on life and death and the hereafter. better sermon on a sunday evening i never heard in church. he told me the whole course of the good man's life and compared it with that of the bad man, weighed the two, and found the latter wanting on all counts, adding, however, that it was impossible to be good. "how did you come to think so seriously of life?" i inquired. "in this way," he replied. "once i was very 'flee-by-the-sky'--i didn't care a rap, sinned much, and feared neither god nor the devil--or, if anything, i feared the devil a little; for god i never had the least respect. but one day i picked up a book written by one andrew, and i read some facts that astonished me. he said that in eight thousand years after the creation of the world the sun would go red and the moon grey, the sun would grow old and cease to warm the world--just as you and i must inevitably grow old. in that day would be born together, one in the east and one in the west, christ and the anti-christ, and they would fight for the dominion of the world. this story caused me to pause and think. hitherto i had taken all for granted. "it had never occurred to me that the sun might stop shining, that the stars might go out. i had scarcely thought that i myself might stop, might die. "'what happens to me when i die?' i asked people. 'god will judge you,' they said. 'if good, you go to heaven; if evil, to hell.' that did not satisfy me. how did people know? no one had ever come back to tell us how things were done after death. "i had never thought at all before, but now i began to think so hard that i could not go about the ordinary things of life, i was so wrapped up in the mystery of my own ignorance. "people said i was under the evil eye. but that again was nonsense. 'whence comes man?' i asked. 'where does he go? where was i before i was born?' i was part of my ancestors. very well. 'but where shall i go when i die? what shall i be?' "i nearly learned to disbelieve in religion. you must know i began to go to church every saturday evening and on all festivals. i listened intently to all the services and the sermons, and i read all that i could find to read, and i asked questions of priests and of educated people--all with the idea of solving this mystery of life. i tried to be good at the bidding of the church, but i gave that up. i learned that it was impossible to avoid sin. "you drink wine--this is a sin; give short weight--that is a sin; look on your neighbour's wife--that is a sin; everything you do is sin--even if you do nothing, that is sin; there is no road of sinlessness. "i went on living as i felt inclined, without care as to whether it were sin or no. but still i asked myself about man's life. "some one said to me, 'you will never understand, because you think of yourself as a separate individual, and not as just a little part of the human race. you live on in all the people who come after you, just as before you were born you lived in those who were before you.' "that was something new, but i understood him, and i asked him a new question: 'if what you say is true--and very likely it is--what, then, is the past of the whole human race, and what its future? what does the life of the human race mean?' "that he could not answer. can you answer it? no. no one can answer it." * * * * * "you are like socrates," i said. "who was socrates?" "he was the man whom the oracle indicated as the wisest man alive. all men knew nothing, but socrates was found wiser than they, for he alone knew that he knew nought." a look of pleased vanity floated over the face of my mingrelian host. he was at least quite human. before going to bed we drank one another's healths. v "have you a light hand?" this is not simply a matter of making pastry, as you shall see. i was tramping along a black sea road one night, and was wondering where i should find a shelter, when suddenly a little voice cried out to me from the darkness of the steppe. i stopped and looked and listened. in a minute a little boy in a red shirt and a grey sheepskin hat came careering towards me, and called out: "do you want a place to sleep? my mother's coffee-house is the best you'll find. the coffee-house down the hill is nothing to it. there it is, that dark house you passed. i am out gathering wood for the fire, but i shall come in a minute." sharp boy! he was only eight years old. how did he guess my need so well? i retraced my footsteps very happily, and came to the dark inn i had missed. it stood fifty yards back from the road, and had no light except what glimmered from the embers of a wood fire. at the door was a parrot that cried out, "choozhoï, choozhoï, choozhoï preeshhòl"--"a stranger, a stranger, a stranger has arrived." the mother, a pugnacious gossip with arms akimbo, looked at me with perturbed pleasure. "are you a beggar or a customer?" she asked. "because if you're a beggar," etc. i cut her short as soon as i could. i assured her i should be much pleased to be a customer. i ordered tea. the boy came in and claimed me as his find, but was snubbed. my hostess proceeded to ask me every question known to her. to my replies, which were often not a little surprising, she invariably replied with one of these exclamations, "say it again, if you please." "indeed!" "with what pleasure!" that i was a tramp and earned my living by writing about my adventures pleased her immensely. i earned my living by having holidays, and gained money where other travellers never did anything but spend. "with what pleasure" did she hear that literary men were paid so many roubles a thousand words for their writings. one could easily write an immense quantity, she thought. the little boy looked at me with bright eyes, and listened. presently, when his mother was dilating on the inferiority of painting as a profession, he broke in. the mother was saying, "not only does the painter catch cold standing still so long in marshy places, but when he has finished his pictures he has to hawk them in the fairs, and even then he may not be able to sell them." "what fairs?" asked the boy. "the fairs of moscow, petersburg, kiev, and the great towns. some sell for fifty roubles, some for five hundred, some for five thousand and more. a little picture would go for five roubles perhaps." "what size pictures would one buy for fifty roubles?" asked the boy. "oh, about the same size as from the floor to the ceiling." "what size would one be that cost five thousand roubles?" "oh, an immense picture; one could build a country house out of it." the boy reflected. "and five hundred thousand roubles?" he asked. but his mother remained profitably silent over the preparation of the family soup. the fire now blazed with the additional wood that had been heaped upon it. the little voice repeated the absurd question, and the mother shouted, "silence! don't make yourself a nuisance." "but how big would it be?" whined the boy. "tell me." "oh, the same, but bigger, stupid!" thereupon my little friend was very happy, and he apparently ascribed his happiness to me. a few minutes later he abruptly asked permission to take me up a mountain to show me a castle next morning, and his mother agreed, pointing out how extremely profitable it would be for me. the little boy rejoiced; he had apparently wanted to go up to that castle for a long while. how excited and happy he was! his mother paid little attention to her child, however, and her interest lay in the bubbling cauldron where the soup was cooking. "you have a very clever boy," i said, but she did not agree with me. his pranks and high spirits were to her evidence of stupidity. i must say i felt we were the stupid party, and the boy was a little wonder. we went on gossiping, and presently he proved us stupid. he started up with one finger to his ear and then darted out, leaving the door open and letting the steppe air pour in. the mother listened, and then said discontentedly after a pause, "that child is not usual." the boy came back with fifteen shaggy customers, however; fifteen red-faced waggoners, half-frozen in their sheepskins, and all clamoured for food and drink. the boy, all excitement, danced up to me and said, "have you a light hand? you must have a light hand!" i didn't know what he meant, but he was off before i had time to ask. he began serving tea and cutting bread and asking questions. did any one want soup? nobody wanted soup at first, but at the boy's solicitations nine of them agreed to have portions at twopence a plateful. the mother persuaded others to have pickled herrings, cheese, wine. the inn was of two rooms: one a bedroom and retiring-room without a door. the ikon of this room served the economical hostess for both rooms. the waggoners were all surly till they had fed. "show me where we can bow to god," said one of them very gruffly, not seeing the ikon. the little boy led him and all his mates into the little bedroom, and they all bowed their hairy faces and crossed themselves before the ikon of st. nicholas. then they returned and consumed the soup and the herrings and bread and cheese and wine and tea. i looked on. my hostess was turning a pretty penny. i was looking on at a very pleasant and surprising interlude. every now and then one of the mouzhiks would stump out to see how the horses were, for they had a long train of waggons carrying building materials to the tsar's estate of livadia. at length all had supped, and they came up to the counter one by one and thanked the hostess heartily, paying her the while. only one of the men was dissatisfied--the last one to come up. "your soup is dear," said he. "dear! what do you mean?" said the woman. "how much would you pay for such soup in yalta, and with beef at fivepence a pound, too?" "in yalta they give one soup." "and here!" "here ... as god wills ... something...." the mouzhik slammed the door. "there's a man," said my hostess, but she wasn't enraged. had she not just sold the family's soup for eighteenpence, and made tenpence profit on it, and wouldn't her husband be pleasantly surprised when he saw there were three shillings more on the counter than usual? it was not often that such custom had come to her. the boy explained the reason to her in a whisper: "he has a light hand." "very like," said she, looking at me with new interest. "what do you mean?" i asked the boy. "why, don't you know?" said he wonderingly. "wherever you go you bring good fortune. after i met you on the road i immediately began to find wood much more plentifully. when i came in i learned how to buy pictures. then mother said she would let me go with you to see the castle. then, not only are you a good customer staying the night, but after you came all this crowd of customers. generally we have nobody at all...." "and i met this wonderful boy," thought i. "i should like to carry him away. he is like something in myself. he also had the light hand, but what a testimony he gave the tramp! wherever he goes he brings happiness." as once i wrote before, "tramps often bring blessings to men: they have given up the causes of quarrels. sometimes they are a little divine. god's grace comes down upon them." vi st. spiridon of tremifond the charge for driving on caucasian roads is a penny per horse per mile, so if you ride ten miles and have two horses you pay the driver one shilling and eightpence. but if, as generally happens, the driver's sense of cash has deprived him of a sense of humour, a conversation of this kind commonly arises. "one and eightpence. what's this?" "ten miles, and two horses at a penny per horse per mile; isn't that correct?" "to the devil with your one and eightpence. give it to the horses; a penny a mile for a horse, and how about the man, the cart, the harness? i gave you hay to sit on. see what fine weather it has been! what beautiful scenery! yonder is the church ... the wineshop, the...." "hold hard, my good man. the universe, our salvation by christ, why don't you charge for these as well! here's sixpence to buy yourself a drink." the driver takes the sixpence and looks at it, makes a calculation, and then blurts out: "what! sixpence for a man and tenpence for a horse; ai, ai, what a _barin_ i have found. sixpence for a man and tenpence for a horse. bad news, bad news! cursed be the day...." here you give him another sixpence, and get out of earshot quickly. a penny a mile a horse. it is good pay in the caucasus, and i for my part charge myself only a halfpenny a mile. if i walk twenty-five miles, then i allow myself a shilling wages, and, of course, some of that i save for the occasion when i come into a town with a great desire for good things. then a spending of savings and a feast! "good machines use little fuel," said an emaciated tramp to me one day. but i have no ambition to be accounted a good machine on those terms. i eat and drink anything that comes in my way, and am ready at any moment to feast or to fast. i seldom pass a crab-apple tree without tasting its fruit, or allow myself to pass a mountain stream without drinking. along this black sea road in the autumn it would be impossible to starve, so lavish is nature of her gifts. here are many wild fruits, plums, pears, blackberries, walnuts, grapes, ripening in such superfluity that none value them. the peasant women pick what they need; the surplus is allowed to fall and rot into the soil. i made my way to ghilendzhik through miles of wild fruit-trees ranged in regular order. it is said that once upon a time when this territory belonged to turkey, or even before then, the land was laid out in orchards and vineyards, and there was not a square foot uncultivated. i ate of wild pears and kisil plums. the pears were more the concentrated idea of pears than that we take from gardens; the kisil plums, with which the bushes were flaming, are a cloudy, crimson fruit with blood-like juice, very tart, and consequently better cooked than raw. my dictionary tells me that the kisil is the burning bush of the old testament, but surely many shrubs claim that distinction. it was a glorious walk over the waste from kabardinka to ghilendzhik, with all manner of beauty and interest along the way. i left the road and cut across country, following the telegraph poles. in front of me fat blue lizards scuttled away, looking like little lilac-coloured _dachshunds_; silent brown snakes shot out of reach at the sight of my shadow; and every now and then, poking and grubbing like a hedgehog, behold a large tortoise out for prey like his brother reptiles. this domiciled the tortoise for me; otherwise i had only associated him with suburban gardens and the "zoo." now as he hissed at me angrily i knew him to be a lizard with a shell on his back. i picked up several of them and examined their faces--they didn't like that at all. they have a peculiar clerical appearance, something of the sternness and fixity of purpose which seems to express itself in the jaws and eyes of some learned divines. with what eagerness the tortoises scrambled away when i disturbed them. they run almost speedily in their natural state. i was amused at the strength of their claws, and the rate at which they tore a passage into a thicket and disappeared. half-way to ghilendzhik there is a stone quarry, and there one may see thousands of what are called in england "cape gooseberries," bright berries of the size and colour of big ripe strawberries. they peeped out shyly everywhere among the tall grasses and the ground-scrub. above them were stretches of saffron-coloured hollyhocks, a flood of colour, and with these as sisters, evening primroses, a great abundance. lilac and crimson grasshoppers rushed over them, jumping into the air and into vision, a puff of bright colour--then subsiding into the greyness of the dust as they alighted and the sombre wing-cases closed over their little glory. on the ground when waiting to spring, these grasshoppers looked as if made of wood: they looked like displaced chessmen of ancient workmanship. what a rush of insect life there was in the air, new-born fritillary butterflies like little flames, dragon-flies, bee-hawks, fat sun-beetles, gorgeous flies, the sinister green praying-mantis! the athena of the air expressed herself in all her wonder. * * * * * ghilendzhik is a collection of datchas (country-houses) and caucasian dwelling-places. its name signifies "the white bride," and it is a quiet, beautiful watering-place in a pure bay, beloved of all russians who have ever visited it. it is the healthiest resort on the whole black sea shore, continually freshened by cool breezes from the steppes. it is yet but a village, utterly undeveloped, unpavemented, without shops or trams or bathing-coaches, or a railway station, and those who visit it in the season regard themselves rather as a family party. the beach is private, and a bathing costume is rather a rarity. it is an amazing testimony to the simplicity of the russian that the upper classes behave at the seaside with little more self-consciousness than the peasant children by the village stream. when ghilendzhik is commercialised to a russian brighton it will be difficult to imagine what an eden it once was. i had looked forward to my arrival, for i had a russian friend there, living for the summer in her own datcha, and i had received a very warm invitation to stay there some days. the welcome was no less warm than the invitation. i arrived one evening all covered with dust, my face a great flush of red from the sun, my limbs agreeably tired. the house was a little white one on the very edge of the sea. part of the verandah had lately been washed away in a storm, so close was the datcha to the waves. i went in, washed, clad myself in fresh linen--the road-stained clothes were taken away with a promise of return clean on the morrow--borrowed some slippers, and sitting in an easy-chair on the verandah, lounged happily and chatted with my hostess. varvara ilinitchna is a russian of the old type--you don't find many of them nowadays, most of her friends would add--simple, quickwitted, full of peasant lore, kind as one's own mother, hospitable as those are hospitable who believe from their hearts that all men are brothers. i was introduced to all the neighbours, to the visitors and the natives, and of course invested with much importance as one who wrote books, had no fear, who even intended pilgrimaging to jerusalem. "you sleep under the open sky--that means you have outlived fear," said varvara ilinitchna with some innocence. our next-door neighbour was a beautiful greek girl, a veritable helen, for the sake of whose beauty one might give up all things. young, elegant, serpentine; clad in a single garment, a light cinnamon gown clasped at the waist; no stockings, her legs bare and brown; on her head a persian scarf embroidered with red and gold tinsel; her face white, with a delicate pink flush over it; hair and eyes black as night, but also with a glitter of stars. wherever she walked she was a picture, and whether she was working about the house, or idling with a cigarette on the verandah, or running over the sand to spank mischievous boys who had been trespassing, she was delicately graceful, something to watch and to remember. i shall remember her chiefly in the setting of the night when the moon cast her lemon-coloured beams over the sea. "very beautiful and very young," said my hostess, "but already she has a history. she is only eighteen, but is married and has run away from her husband. she wanted to marry a russian, but her family forced her to take for husband a greek, an old man, and so jealous and so frightened of the effect of her beauty upon other men that he shut her up and made her wear a veil like a turk. he would not let her out by herself, and he never brought any friends home; he took to beating her, and then she ran away. her father received her and promised to protect her. the old greek cannot get at her any more; he has given her up and gone away." "good for her!" i hazarded. "not at all good," was the answer. "she has a husband and yet has none. she is young, but she can't marry again because she has a husband already." * * * * * at ghilendzhik all meals were served on the verandah, and one lived constantly in touch with the varying moods of the sea. my hostess was a talker, ready to sit to any hour of the night chatting of her life and of russia. it was very pleasant to listen to her. we sat together on the balcony after tea, with a big plate of grapes between us, and i heard all that the world had to say at ghilendzhik. a burning topic was the ruin that the sea had made of the verandah wall. "the sea has been gradually gaining on us," said my friend. "when we came here, the village council reckoned on that. they smiled when we bought the house, for they held that in quite a short time it would be washed away. the council wishes to build a fine esplanade all along the sea-front--our house stands in the way and they don't wish to buy us out. 'you'd better buy the datcha,' said alexander fed'otch to them. 'oh no,' said they, 'we leave that to god'--by 'god' meaning the sea. they bound us under a contract not to build anything in front of the house: they said they did not wish the view to be obstructed, but in reality they did not want us to put up any protection against the waves. they left the rest to providence. the result was that the whole property was nearly washed away in a storm. "it happened like this. we were away at vladikavkaz, and vassily, the watchman, was living in the house with his wife and family, looking after it in our absence. there came a storm one evening. no one paid any attention at first, but it became so bad in the night that even atheists were at their prayers. at three o'clock in the morning all the villagers were up and dressed and watching it. they were afraid, not only for our house, but for the rest of the village: no one remembered such a storm. as for our datcha, being as it is the nearest to the sea, the waves were already washing stones and mortar away. vassily worked as hard as man could, shifting the furniture, taking out his household things, and trying to save the house. the villagers helped him--even the councillors who had hoped for the storm, they helped. "the storm did not abate, so the priest was sent for, and he decided to hold a prayer service on the seashore and ask god to make peace on the water. they brought the ikons and the banners from the church, took the service in case of great storms or danger, and when they had sprinkled holy water on the waves, the storm drew to a lull and gradually died away. the datcha was saved; perhaps the whole village. _slava tebye gospody!_ glory be to thee, o god! "they wrote to us at vladikavkaz what had happened, and of course we came down quickly. then what a to-do there was! we demanded the right to protect our property from the sea. the council said, 'yes, yes, yes, don't alarm yourself; you'll be quite safe, safe as the kazbek mountain; we ourselves will protect you.' the government engineer came round and said once more, 'don't alarm yourself! we are going to build an embankment. next year there will be a whole street in front of you, and electric trams going up and down perhaps.'" "did you believe him?" i asked. "we didn't know what to do, believe him or disbelieve, but we knew he had been granted power to make investigations and draw up plans. for months, now, they have been measuring the depth of the water and testing this place and that. for my part, i think the preparations are only a device for making money. the engineer will enrich himself: the embankment and the street will be in his bank, but not here. the money they have spent already on his reports is appalling. but of course, if they _do_ build an esplanade, our house will be worth three times what it cost us. we will let it as a café or a restaurant, and it will bring us rent all the year round. god grant it may be so! "we resolved, however, to protect it, and we obtained permission to build a chinese wall in front of it. but _bozhe moi_, what that wall is costing us--already fifteen hundred roubles, and on the original estimate we thought five hundred. "even as it is we don't know how we stand. the engineer may claim that wall as belonging to the town. the town may have it knocked down, for it is built just outside our boundary line. we go down to the sand, and we have built upon the sand." obviously she hadn't built upon a rock. "now that they think of making a street in front of us, they will call part of the seashore land, and it will be surveyed. someone will remark that we have encroached, and then down will go our wall and with it our fifteen hundred roubles." i agreed with her and sympathised. the chances were certainly against the money having been profitably invested. but what an example of russian ways! we sat in silence and looked out over the placid waves on whose future kindliness so much of my hostess's happiness seemed to depend. it was a beautiful night. the sun had sunk through a cloud into the sea, and, as he disappeared, the waves all seemed to grow stiller and paler; they seemed full of anxious terror, as the faces of women whose husbands are just gone from their arms to the war. dark curtains came down over their grief: the waves disappeared. the long bay was unruffled and grey to the horizon, like a sheet of unscored ice. even the boats in the harbour seemed to be resting on something solid. the one felucca in front of us, with its five lines of rope and mast, grew darker and darker, till at last the moon rose and gleamed on her bows and cordage. my hostess continued to talk to me of the fortunes of her property. "twenty years ago," she said, "i was sitting on a log in a field one summer afternoon, when up comes an old peasant woman leaning on a stick and speaks to me in an ancient, squeaky voice: "'good-day, _barinya_!' "'good-day!' i said. "'would you like to buy a little wooden hut and some land?' "'eh, _gospody_! what should i want with a little wooden hut?' said i. 'what do you ask for it?' "'fifty roubles,' she squeaked. 'my son has written to me from poltava. he says, "sell the hut and come and live with me," so i'm just looking for a buyer.' "'what did you say?' i asked. 'fifty roubles?' "'fifty roubles, _barinya_. is it too much?' "i was astonished. a house and land for fifty roubles. such a matter had to be inquired into. i felt i must go and look at the hut. i went and saw it. it was all right, a nice little white cottage and thirty or forty yards of garden to it.' here's your fifty roubles,' i said. and i bought it on the spot. "we did nothing with it. "next summer, when i came down to ghilendzhik, i said to my husband, 'let us go and see our house and land.' accordingly we went along to look. what was our astonishment to find it occupied by another old crone. i went up to the door and said: "'good-day!' "'good-day!' said a cracked old voice. 'and who might you be?' "'i might be the landlady,' i said. 'how is it you're here?' "'oh, you're the _khosaika_, the hostess,' replied the old crone. 'eh, dear! eh, deary, deary! my respects to you. i didn't know you were the _khosaika_. i saw an empty cottage here one day; it didn't seem to belong to any one, so, as i hadn't one myself, i just came in.' "the old dame bustled about apologetically. "'never mind,' said i. 'live on, live on.' "'live on,' said alexander fed'otch. "we went away and didn't come back to it or ask about it for seventeen years. then one day i received a letter offering me twenty pounds (two hundred roubles) for the property, but as i had no need of money i paid no attention. a month later some one offered me thirty pounds. obviously there was something in the air; there was some reason for the sudden lively interest in our property. alexander fed'otch went down, and he discovered that the site was wanted by the government for a new vodka-shop. if we didn't sell, we should at last be forced to give up the property to the government, and perhaps find ourselves involved in litigation over it. alexander fed'otch made negotiations, and sold it for ninety pounds--nine hundred roubles--think of it. and it only cost us five pounds to start with! ah, here is a place where you can get rich if you only have a little capital." "the old woman?" i queried. "was she evicted?" "oh no, she had disappeared--died, i suppose." "you made a handsome profit!" "yes, yes. but that's quite another history. you think we made eighty-five pounds profit. no, no. we ought to have invested the money quietly, but unfortunately alexander fed'otch, when he was selling the house, met another man who persuaded him to buy a plot of land higher up, and to build a grandiose villa upon it. they thought it a splendid idea, and alexander fed'otch paid the nine hundred roubles as part of the money down for the contractor. it was a great sorrow--for no profit ever came of it. it happened in the revolutionary time. we paid the contractor two thousand roubles, and then suddenly all his workmen went on strike. he was an honest man, and it was not his fault. his name was gretchkin. he went to novorossisk to try to get together a new band of men, and there he met with a calamity. he arrived on the day when the mutinous sailors were hanged, and the sight so upset him that he lost his head--he plunged into a barracks and began shooting at the officers with his revolver. he was arrested, tried, and condemned to death. the sentence, however, was commuted to penal servitude--that was when we got our duma and there was the general pardon. two thousand roubles were lost to us right away. the half-dug foundations of our house remained--a melancholy sight. "the datcha is finished now; to-morrow you must go and see it. but it has cost us in all ten thousand roubles. i should be thankful to sell it for five thousand. ai, ai, and we are growing old now and living through everything." my hostess went out to fetch another plate of grapes. "we wanted to put a vineyard round the datcha, but what with the children and the pigs mauling and biting at everything, it couldn't be managed. we had, however, a _pood_ of grapes from one of our gardens this year." the moon now bathed her yellow reflection in the mysterious sea, and we sat and looked at it together. "vasia, my son, who has taken his musical degree, will stay up all night to look at this sight," said my hostess. "it moves something in his soul." it moved something in mine, and yet seemed strangely alien to the tale i was hearing. that moon had flung its mystery over an eastern world, and it seemed an irrelevance beside the fortunes of a modern watering-place. varvara ilinitchna went on to tell me of her early days, and how she and her husband had been poor. alexander fed'otch had taught in schools and received little money. their two sons were never well. they had often wept over burdens too hard to bear. one season, however, there came a change in their life and they became prosperous. they prayed to be rich, and god heard their prayer. "we owe the change in our fortunes to a famous ikon," said varvara ilinitchna. "it happened in this way. alexander fed'otch had an old friend who, after serving thirty years as a clerk in an office, suddenly gave up and took to the mountains. he was a wise man and knew much of life, and it was through his wisdom that we sent for the ikon. we sheltered him all through the winters because he had no home, and he came to love us and enter into our life. he rejoiced with us on festivals when we were gay; when we were sad he sympathised. when we shed tears he shed tears also. one evening when we were more than ordinarily desperate he said to me, 'take my advice; send for an ikon of st. spiridon of tremifond.' the ikon costs ten shillings, and ten shillings was much to us in those days. i told alexander fed'otch what our friend had said, and he, being a religious man, agreed. we sent ten shillings to moscow and had the ikon sent to us, and we took it to church and had it blessed. "that happened in the autumn. those were the days when the vladikavkaz railway was a novelty. the children, and even the grown-up people, did nothing but play at trains all day. we used to take in the children of the employees and look after them while their fathers and mothers were away. well, in the following may a director of the railway called on alexander fed'otch and said he had a post to offer him. "'we are thinking of taking all the children of the railway employees, and establishing a school and _pension_ for them where they can get good meals and be taught. we will provide you with a house and appointments, and you will get a good salary into the bargain. your wife will be mother to our railway children, and you will be general manager of the establishment. will you take the post?' "'with pleasure!' answered alexander fed'otch. but i for my part took some time to consider. it was hard enough to be mother to three children of my own. how could i be mother to fifty? "however, we agreed to take the offer, and then suddenly we found ourselves rich and important people, and we remembered the ikon of st. spiridon of tremifond and thanked god. if you are ever poor, if ever you want money, send for the ikon of st. spiridon. i advise you. its virtues are famous." "an evil ikon, nevertheless, that spiridon of tremifond," i thought, but i wouldn't say so to my hostess. "and you've been happy ever since?" i asked. "not happy. who even hopes to be happy? but we did well. the railway company opened new establishments, and the directors have loved my husband, and one of them even said at a public meeting, 'would to god there were more men in the world like alexander fed'otch!' we took larger charges and higher posts. we were even thanked publicly in the press for our services." varvara ilinitchna sighed. then she resumed her talking in a different tone. "but we live through our fortune. well, i understand it. it is our karma after the revolution. property shall avail us nothing. everything we have shall be taken from us. look at this chinese wall taking away all our money. think of that foolish contractor gretchkin and our costly datcha. behold our sickly children. how much money have we not spent trying to heal our children, eh, eh! doctors have all failed. even a magic healer in the country failed." "tell me of him," i urged. varvara ilinitchna went on only too gladly. she had found a listener. "it was a peasant woman. she healed so many people that, though she was quite illiterate, the medical faculty gave her a certificate to the effect that she could cure. i know for a fact that when specialists gave their patients up as hopeless cases, they recommended her as a last resort. she was a miracle worker: she almost raised the dead. you must know, however, that she could only cure rheumatism cases. for other diseases there are other peasant women in various parts of russia. we went to this one and lived a whole summer with her on a very dirty, dismal countryside. we were all bored to death, and we came away worse than we went. and all such things cost much, i assure you." my hostess verily believed in the effect of the holy water on the stormy waves, in the gracious influence of st. spiridon, and in the magical faculties of certain peasants. yet observe she uses the word _karma_: she calls herself a theosophist. my long vagabondage she calls my _karma_. "my happiness," i corrected her. "happiness or unhappiness, it is all the same, your _karma_." she went on to talk of the great powers of mme. blavatsky, and she told me that alexander fed'otch had just ordered _the secret doctrine_ to read. good simple man, he will never get through a page of that abstruse work; and my hostess will understand nothing. is it not strange--these people were peasants a generation ago; they are peasants now by their goodness, hospitality, religion, superstition, and yet they aspire to be eclectic philosophers? varvara ilinitchna has life itself to read, and she turns away to look at books. life does not satisfy her--there are great empty places in it, and she would be bored often but that she has books to open in these places. she was very interesting to me as an example of the simple peasant mind under the influence of modern culture. perhaps it is rather a shame to have put down all her old wife's talk in this way, for she is lovable as one's own mother. vii at a fair one misty morning in late october i arrived at batum, pack on back, staff in hand, to all appearances a pilgrim or a tramp, and i drank tea at a farthing a glass in the fair. "pour it out full and running over," said a chance companion to the owner of the stall. "that's how we workmen like it; not half-full as for gentlefolk." the shopman, a silent and very dirty turk, filled my glass and the saucer as well. and sipping tea and munching _bubliki_, we looked out upon all the sights of the _bazar_. there lay around, in all the squalor that turks love, the marvellous superabundance of a southern harvest--spread on sacks in the mud--grapes purple and silver-green, pomegranates in rusty thousands, large dew-fed yellow apples, luscious dirt-bespattered pears, such fruits that in london even the rich might look at and sigh for, but pass by reflecting that with the taxes so high they could not afford them, but here sold by ragamuffins to ragamuffins for greasy coppers; and not only these fruits, but quinces and peaches, the large yellow caucasian _khurma_, the little blood-red _kizil_, and many unnamed rarities. they all surged up out of the waste of over-trodden mire, as if the pageantry of some fairy world had been arrested as it was disappearing into the earth. then, beside these gorgeous fruits, in multitudinous attendance, a confused array of scarlet runners, tomatoes, cabbages, out-tumbled sacks of glazy purple aubergines, mysterious-looking gigantic pumpkins, buckets full of pyramidal maize-cobs, yellow, white-sheathed. the motley crowd of vendors, clamouring, gesticulating, are chiefly distinguished by their hats--the arabs in white turbans, the turks in dingy fezes jauntily cocked over dark, unshaven faces, some fezes swathed in bright silk scarves; the caucasians in golden fleece hats, bright yellow sheepskin busbies; the few russians in battered peak caps, like porters' discarded head-gear; persians in skull-caps; armenians in shabby felts, astrakhans, or mud-coloured _bashliks_. the trousers of the christians all very tight, the trousers of the mahometans baggy, rainbow-coloured--it is a jealous point of difference in these parts that the turk keeps four or five yards of spare material in the seat of his trousers. what a din! what a clamour! "_kopeika, kopeika, kopeika_." "_oko tre kopek, oko tre kopek, oko tre kopek._" thus christians shout against mussulmans over the grape-heaps--one farthing, one farthing, one farthing; oko (three pounds) three farthings, oko three farthings, oko three farthings. fancy shouting oneself hoarse to persuade passers-by to buy grapes at a farthing a pound! my companion at the tea-stall, a tramp-workman from central russia, was astonished at the price of the grapes. "it is possible to say that that is cheap," said he. "when i return to russia i will take forty pounds of them and sell them in the train at twopence-halfpenny (ten _copecks_); that will pay for my ticket, i think, in the fourth class." i watched the turks trafficking, jingling their ancient rusty balances, manipulating their turkish weights--the _oko_ is not russian--and giving what was probably the most marvellous short weight in europe. the three-pound _oko_ was often little more than a pound. a native of trebizond came and sat at our table. he wore carpet socks, and over them slippers with long toes curled upperward like certain specimens one may see in bethnal green museum; on his head a straw-plaited, rusty fez swathed with green silk of the colour of a sun-beetle. "the italians have taken tripoli," said the russian, with a grin; "fancy letting those little people thump you so!" "and the japanese?" said a caucasian quickly. the turk looked sulky. "italia will fall," said he. "she will fall yet, dishonourable country. they have stolen tripoli. all you others look on and smile. but it is an injustice. we shall cut the throats of all the italians in turkey. will you look on then and smile?" a greek sniggered. there were many greeks at the fair--they all wear blue as the turks all wear red. when the turk had gone, the greek exclaimed: "there's a people, these turks, stupid, stupid as sheep; all they need are horns ... and illiterate! when will that people wake up, eh?" the turks and the greeks never cease to spit at one another, though the former can afford to feel dignified, victors of their wars with greece. for the italian the ordinary turk has almost as much contempt as for the greek. one said to me, as i thought, quite cleverly: "a greek is half an italian, and the italian is half a frenchman, the frenchman is half an englishman, and you, my friend, are half a german. we have some respect for a german, for he is equal to a score of greeks, a dozen italians, or six frenchmen, but we have no respect at all for the rest." twenty arabs passed us at the stall--all pashas, a georgian informed me. they had arrived the night before from trebizond and the desert beyond. their procession through the ragged market was something to wonder at--a long file of warriors all over six feet high, broad, erect, with full flowing cloaks from their shoulders to their ankles, under the cloaks rich embroidered garments. their faces were white and wrinkled, proud with all the assurance of men who have never known what it is to stoop before the law and trade. "they have come to make a journey through russia," said the georgian, "but their consul has turned them back. they will pray in the mosque and then return. it is inconvenient that they should go to europe while there is the war." a prowling gendarme in official blue and red came up to the stall and sniffed at the company. he pounced on me. "your letters of identification?" he asked. i handed him a recommendation i had from the governor of archangel. he returned it with such deference that all the other customers stared. archangel was three thousand miles away. russian governors have long arms. it is unpleasant, however, to be scrutinised and thought suspicious. i finished my tea and then returned to the crowd. there was yet more of the fair to see--the stalls of caucasian wares, the silks, the guns, the knives, armenian and persian carpets, turkish slippers, sandals, yards of brown pottery, where at each turn one sees huge pitchers and water-jugs and jars that might have held the forty thieves. at one booth harness is sold and high turkish saddles, at another pannier baskets for mules. a flood of colour on the pavement of a covered way--a great disarray of little shrivelled lemons, with stalks in many cases, for they have been gathered hard by. in the centre of the market-place are all the meat and fish shops, and there one may see huge sturgeon and salmon brought from the fisheries of the caspian. garish notices inform in five languages that fresh caviare is received each day. round about the butchers are sodden wooden stalls, labelled snow merchants, and there, wrapped in old rags, is much grey muddy snow melting and freezing itself. it has been brought on rickety lorries down the rutty tracks of the mountains, down, down into the lowland of batum, where even october suns are hot. near the snow stalls behold veiled turkish women just showing their noses out of bright rags, and tending the baking of chestnuts and maize cobs, sausages, pies, fish, and chickens. here for eightpence one may buy a hot roast chicken in half a sheet of exercise-paper. the purchasers of hot chicken are many, and they take them away to open tables, where stand huge bottles of red wine and tubs of tomato-sauce. the fowl is pulled to bits limb by limb, and the customer dips, before each bite, his bone in the common sauce-bowl. those who are poorer buy hot maize cobs and cabbage pies; those who feel hot already themselves are fain to go to the ice and lemonade stall, and spend odd farthings there. i bought myself _matsoni_, metchnikof's sour milk and sugar, at a halfpenny a mug. the market square is vast. it is wonderful the number of scenes enacting themselves at the same time. all the morning in another quarter men were trying on old hats and overcoats, and having the most amazing haggling over articles which are sold in london streets for a pot of ferns or a china butter-dish. in another part popular pictures are spread out, oleographs showing the garden of eden, or the terror of the flood, or the last judgment, and such like; in another is a wilderness of home-made bamboo furniture, a speciality of batum. and for all no lack of customers. what a place of mystery is a russian fair, be it in the capital or at the outposts of the empire! there is nothing that may not be found there. one never knows what extraordinary or wonderful thing one may light upon there. among old rusty fire-irons one finds an ancient sword offered as a poker; among the litter of holy and secular secondhand books, hand-painted missals of the earliest russian times. nothing is ever thrown away; even rusty nails find their way to the _bazar_. the miscellanies of a stall might upon occasion be what is left behind after a house removal. on one table at batum i observed two moth-eaten rusty fezes, a battered but unopened tin of herrings in tomato-sauce, another tin half-emptied, a guitar with one string, a good hammer, a door-mat worn to holes, the clearing of a book-case, an old saucepan, an old kerosene stove, a broken coffee-grinder, and a rusty spring mattress. under the stall were two persian greyhounds, also for sale. the shopmen ask outrageous prices, but do not expect to be paid them. "how much the kerosinka?" i asked in sport. "ten shillings," said an old, sorrowful-looking persian. i laughed sarcastically, and was about to move away. the persian was taking the oil-stove to bits to show me its inward perfection. "name your price," said he. i did not want a kerosene stove, but for fun i tried him on a low figure-- "sixpence," i said. "whew!" the persian looked about him dreamily. did he sleep, did he dream? "you don't buy a machine for sixpence," said he. "i bought this second-hand for eight-and-sixpence. i can offer it to you for nine shillings as a favour." "oh no, sixpence; not a farthing more." i walked away. "five shillings," cried the persian--"four shillings." "ninepence," i replied, and moved farther away. "two shillings." he bawled something more, inaudibly, but i was already out of hearing. i happened to repass his stall accidentally later in the morning. "that kerosinka," said the persian--"take it; it is yours at one shilling and sixpence." i felt so sorry for the unhappy hawker, but i could not possibly buy an oil-stove. i could not take one as a gift; but i looked through his old books and there found, in a tattered condition, _the red laughter_, by leonid andreef, a drama by gorky, a long poem by skitaletz, and a most interesting account of chekhof's life by kouprin, all of which i bought after a short haggle for fivepence, twenty copecks. i was the richer by my visit to his stall, for i found good reading for at least a week. and the old persian accepted the silver coin and dropped it into an old wooden box, looking the while with melancholy upon the unsold kerosinka. viii a turkish coffee-house it sometimes happens that, entering a house, one enters not simply into the presence of a family but into that of a nation. so it was when i was received in a little-russian deacon's cottage in a village, on the christmas eve on which i first came to russia. i came not to the deacon but to russia itself, and when the christmas musicians came and played before me it was not only christmas music, or village music, that i heard, but the voice of a whole countryside and the song of a whole national soul. it sometimes happens that, looking at a picture, one sees not only its local and obvious beauty, but its eternal significance and message--that is a similar experience. it happened to me whilst on a tramp in trans-caucasia to enter a coffee-house that was at once a turkish coffee-house and turkey itself. i lived for a whole night veritably in turkey. in this way-- i came into a little town; it was a cold night and i wanted shelter. i entered a noisy turkish coffee-house--there were at least a hundred such in the town--and asked if i might spend the night there. the owner, a young man in shirt-sleeves, very dirty and unshaven, and with an old fez on the side of his head, intimated that i might stay if i liked. the café was a room full of poor turks. picture a crowd of ragged men, some in drab turbans with loose ends hanging down their backs, but most of them in dingy red fez hats, faces unshaved, mottled, ugly--a squat people, very talkative, but terribly mirthless; and in shadowy corners of the low dark café solitary persons with hook-nosed, ruminative faces. all about me was the din of the strange language, the clatter of dice and dominoes. all night long the doors of the café slammed and customers passed in and out, games were begun and played away, animated groups formed at certain tables and then broke up and gave way to new groups, loud discussions broke out over turkish newspapers and politics and the war, in the course of which discussions the newspaper, a wilderness of arabic, was often torn to bits--a series of scenes of tremendous animation and noise; but no one laughed. in the clamour of tongues sounded again and again the name "italia." the turks were angry over the war, full of a restrained resentment and a profound need for revenge. it was a relief to me when one of them came to my table and talked to me in russian. "how goes the war?" i asked. "is italy losing?" "of course she is losing," he replied, lying sullenly; "and she must lose." "but she has taken tripoli and guards it with her navy. how can she lose?" "the other powers will make her disgorge it, or we will commence an endless hostility, not only against italy and italian trade, but against all whom we tolerate--the western christians." a caucasian, overhearing us, drew his forefinger along his throat from ear to ear, and smiled. "there are more mahometans than christians," the turk went on, "and they are strong men, heroes. the italians are the worn-out scum of ancient rome, getting the better of us ignobly. but they shall not spoil the mahometan world. not even the english, most powerful of the machine nations, shall overwhelm the true faith." the keeper of the coffee-house came and stared at me. two new customers came up, and i was pointed out as an englishman. they talked about me in turkish; other turks came, they talked about england's rôle in the war, they scolded, gesticulated, poured forth endlessly, forgot me. once more, though in a crowd, i was alone. at this time a great diversion was caused. a blind musician came in. at midnight one would have thought no new development in the life of the café was likely to take place, but the musician brought into the room such a crush of people that on all sides i felt packed and crammed. a tall, gaunt man, hatless, shaggy-headed, his black locks falling over a strange yellow brow; eyes that saw not, looking through deep purple spectacles; and in his arms, like a baby, a long armenian guitar--the musician was somewhat to wonder at. hemmed in by the crowd, he yet found a little space in the body of the coffee-house, and danced to and fro with his songs like some strange being in a frenzy. he played with fire on his guitar, every minute breaking from his sparkling, thrilling accompaniment into a wild human chant, his face the while triumphant and passionate, but blind with such utter blindness that he seemed like the symbol of man's life rather than a man; a great song of heart-yearning sung to the stars and to the infinite rather than the singer of that song. his fingers flowed over the long guitar; the wild words broke out; he flung himself in little zigzag steps to right, to left; the wild chant stopped; once more spoke only the strings. i looked at him and listened, and could not give myself enough to him. at nearly two he made a collection and received many piastres and copecks, and the crowd who had listened to him began to disperse. at three o'clock the host signified that he wished to close the shop. to all the remaining customers turkish delight was served out as a sort of parting gift. a dozen turks, those who had homes, slunk away; the remainder, those who had no homes of their own, stayed to sleep. the host now came to me and we did some business. i wanted to change some turkish silver, as i was short of russian money. as no bank would take this small coin i was obliged to try the coffee-house. accordingly, i had asked my coffee-house keeper to buy a hundred or so piastres. after half an hour's haggling we struck a very bad bargain. i find the turk more of a sharp than the jew. the long day was over. the shutters were pulled along in front of the shop and padlocked. a form was accorded me on which to sleep. another form was drawn out into the middle of the room and placed at a certain angle, pointing to the east, i suppose. then during half an hour the turks ascended this form in turn, stood, bowed, knelt, prostrated themselves in silent prayer, reiteratedly. they prayed very differently from russian peasants. their movements were abrupt and mechanical, like steps in a military drill. they were nearer to spiritual death and praying-boxes than any i had ever watched pray before. i felt myself in the presence of a new form of piety. i had crossed the great broad line that separates europe from asia, and come to a place where europe is not understood and therefore hated. at six next morning the sleepers awoke and performed the same rites on the improvised praying-stool; the shutters were rolled back; the turks who had homes returned; in came the arabic newspaper; once more turkish delight, coffee, the clatter of dice and dominoes, the gathering of animated groups, loud, unpleasant voices and mirthless vivacity--so the life of the coffee-house went on; so i imagine it goes on for ever. * * * * * as i think of this in retrospect it seems that the blind musician stood in some peculiar and significant relation to the more ordinary life about him. but for him, i should probably have omitted to describe my night among the turks. he made the coffee-house worth living in, worth sketching, worth being re-seen in the reflection of words. he was what i should call the glory of the coffee-house. thus the garden of eden was beautiful, but adam and eve in the garden were the glory of the garden, the highest significance of its beauty, the voice by which relatively dumb beauty got a step farther in expressing itself. the garden would never have been described but for the episode of adam and eve. it would not have been worth while to describe it.... the forest is beautiful, but the bird singing in the forest is the glory of the forest. the morning is beautiful, but the tramp walking in the morning is the glory of the morning; he also, in his youth and morning of life, is a voice by which beauty endeavours to reveal itself. each scene, each picture, has a highest significance if we could but find it. thus the blind musician was a revelation of the very soul of the turks. the tramp wandering through life and exploring it tries always to find what is particularly his in the scenes that come before his eyes. it is what he means by living a daily life in the presence of the infinite. ix at a great monastery i in the middle ages, when christianity was still young, there was much more hospitality than to-day. the crusader and the palmer needed no introduction to obtain entertainment at a strange man's house. the doors of castle or cottage, of monastery or cell, were always on the latch to the wanderer, and not only to those performing sacred dues but to the vagabond, the minstrel, the messenger, the tradesman, even to crabbed isaac of york. since those days it has become clear that the thirty pieces of silver not only sold the author of christianity but christianity itself. as my little-russian deacon said, "money has come between us and made us work more and love less. we are gathered together, not for love but for mutual profit. it is all the difference between conviviality and gregariousness." the deacon was right, and when one comes upon the middle ages, as yet untouched, in russia, one reflects with a sigh--"the whole of europe, even england, was like this once." one says with arnold-- the sea of faith was once, too, at the full, and round earth's shore lay like the folds of a bright girdle furl'd. but now i only hear its melancholy, long, withdrawing roar retreating to the breath of the night-wind, down the vast edges drear and naked shingles of the world. day by day, as we live, we see the disintegration of that which christianity means, the shattering of that brotherly love that makes men nations and nations the children of god. not without truth did shylock say of his money that he made it breed. the pieces of silver have bred well; they jingle to-day in the pockets of millions of betrayers. these thirty pieces did not pass out of currency, though the land that they bought was left desolate. they passed from hand to hand among the covetous throughout the first centuries of christianity. the jews clung to them as if they were life itself; but the early christians, having something very much better than money to live for, coveted them not. and as long as the money remained with the jews christianity flourished. the two symbols opposed one another, and there was no question but that the cross triumphed. only when the christians turned their backs on the cross and hankered after the silver did the eternal nature of the betrayal manifest itself. when the saracens began to be fought, not only by swords and faith but by the aid of jewish money, and with the pomp and circumstance of war, then already judas had been to the priests. when the knight or baron bequeathed the thirty jewish pieces to the monastery judas was already kissing the master. when the hand that held the cross loosened to take the silver, when the monks took the treasure of earth and relinquished the treasure of heaven, jesus was already taken. it was but a short way to the crucifixion. the silver profiteth no man. where are the thirty pieces of silver now? where are they not? when the rich holiday-maker comes scattering money in peaceful mountain valleys; when the peasant's son, infected by the idea of money, comes to town for his thirty shillings a week; when for the want of another thirty shillings he refuses to marry; when to save his mind some evangelical society--so called--accepts thirty shillings "charity"; when the millionaire leaves thirty thousand pounds to the hospitals to save his body; when a minister is paid three hundred pounds a year to save his soul; when a member of parliament receives thirty pounds a month to remedy his social wrongs; when the love of the country girl he should have married is won by some rich man who thinks he can pay for it--on all these occasions and yet more, to examples innumerable, the curse of judas shows itself, till every brick of our evil industrial cities is shown mortared round in bright silver hate. * * * * * as i write these lines one question is very urgent in the minds of englishmen, that of the disestablishment and partial disendowment of a church. once more the thirty pieces appear to be in the coffers of the church and they are attracting the curse. there is only one way for that church; it is to give up to the spoiler not only that which is demanded of it but all the material wealth it possesses, its endowments, estates, houses, palaces, sacred edifices; to lay down everything and be simply, for the moment, a church in the hand of god. as for disestablishment, the sooner christians dissociate themselves from secular names and titles the better. the christian church is one established for ever, upon a rock, and those who compose that church are they who love their neighbour as a brother. we have hope of new life, otherwise it were folly to write at all. the great distress which the modern commercial life causes the individual soul is perhaps a blessing in disguise; it causes the individual to pause and think, causes him to rebel, to try and imagine a way to true salvation. for, despite progress and the benefit our posterity is supposed to be going to derive from it, it is an undisguisable fact that life, the wonderful and strange gift given to the individual perhaps once in an eternity, is being used without profit, without pause, without wonder. we are like people who have lost their memories on the way to a feast, and our steps, in which is only dimly felt the remembrance of a purpose, take us nowhither. we loiter in musty waiting-rooms, are frustrated by mobs, and foiled by an eternal clamour. we have forgotten the feast and occupy ourselves in all manner of foolish and irrelevant ways. only now and again, struck by the absurdity of our occupations, we grope after our lost consciousness and feel somehow that somewhere out beyond is our real destination, that somewhere out there a feast is proceeding, that a cover is laid for us and dishes served, that though we are absent the master calls a toast to us and sends messengers to find us. * * * * * the _somewhere-out-beyond_ has for me been russia. i do not suggest that it is russia for every one. there are many tables at the feast, and the messenger sent after the absent must tell of those who sit at his own table. i think there is the same wine and the same fare at all tables. i tell of the hospitality of russia, the hospitality of mind and of hand found amongst a simple people. in october i arrived as a pilgrim at the monastery of novy afon, or, to translate the russian into more recognisable terms, new athos, and i obtained the hospitality of the monks. there are three sorts of monasteries in russia, one where there is great store of gold and precious stones as in troitsky lavra near moscow, another where there are ancient relics and ikons of miraculous power as at solovetz, and a third where there is neither the distinction of gold nor of relics, where the power of the monks lies in their living actual work and prayer. to the last-named category belongs novy afon. it is very likely that the immense wealth of the other monasteries may invite the hand of the spoiler. even now the monks are notorious for drunkenness and corruptibility: the institutions are moribund, and there is no doubt that if revolution had overturned the tsardom the rich monasteries like the troitsky would have been sacked. perhaps even novy afon and many another spiritual mother would have shared a common fate with their depraved sisters. that is as may be. the revolution did not succeed and could not, because the common peasantry still prayed in the temples which the revolutionaries would have destroyed. the living church of russia required its buildings even though the caretakers of these buildings were in some cases false stewards. but there is no question of false stewards at novy afon. it is a place where a luther might serve and feel no discontent, a place of new life. it looks into the future with eyes that see visions, and stretches forward to that future with hands that are creative; an institution with no past but only a present and an idea, not acting by precedent or tradition but taking its inspiration straight from life's sources. ii it will be profitable to describe the monastery just as i saw it and felt it to be, on the occasion of my arrival there after five hundred miles tramping in the autumn of . i had overtaken many pilgrims journeying thither, and the nearer i approached the more became their numbers. there were many on foot and many in carts and coaches. multi-coloured diligences were packed with people and luggage--the people often more miscellaneously packed than the luggage, clinging on behind, squashed in the middle, sprawling on the top. the drivers looked superb though dressed in thousand-times-mended black coats, the post-boys tootled on their horns, and the passengers sang or shouted to the music of accordions. of course not all those in the coaches were pilgrims religiously inclined; many were holiday seekers out for the day. the gates of novy afon are open to all, even to the mahometan or the pagan. it was a beautiful cloudless morning when i arrived at this most wonderful monastery in the russian world--a cluster of white churches on a hill, a swarm of factories and workshops, cedar avenues, orchards, vineyards, and, above all, tree-covered mountains crowned by grey towers and ancient ruins, the whole looking out on the far sea. at the monastery gates were a cluster of empty coaches waiting for passengers, the drivers sitting in the dusty roadway meanwhile, playing cards or eating chunks of red melon. pilgrims with great bundles on their backs stood staring vacantly at the walls or at the sea; monks in long grey cloaks, square hats, and long hair, passed in and out like bees about a hive, and from a distance came a musical drone, the chanting of church services. pack on back, staff in hand, no one took me for other than a russian pilgrim till i showed my passport. i entered the monastery, asked one of the monks where to go, and was at once shown to a room, a little square whitewashed apartment with four hard couches; the room looked upon the hostelry yard, and was lit within by electric light--the monks' own manufacture. no one asked me any questions--they were too hospitable to do that. i was at once taken for granted as one might be by one's own family after returning home from a week-end in the country. when i had disposed my clothes, brushed away some of the dust, changed boots, and washed, the novice who had shown me my room tapped at the door and, looking in with a smile, told me i had come just in time for dinner. all along the many corridors i heard the tinkling of a dinner-bell and a scuttling of many feet. the dinner was served in three halls: two of them were more exclusive apartments where those might go who did not care to rub shoulders with the common people; but the other was a large barn where any one who liked to come took the chances of his fellow-man, be he peasant or pilgrim. it was in the barn that i took my seat among a great crowd of folk at two long, narrow tables. round about us on the walls were a multiplicity of brightly coloured ikons, pictures of the abbot, of tsars, of miraculous happenings and last judgments. on the tables at regular intervals were large iron saucepans full of soup, platters of black bread, and flagons of red wine. a notice on the wall informed that without prayer eating or drinking was forbidden, and i wondered what was going to happen; for although we had all helped ourselves in russian fashion, no one had as yet said grace, and there was an air of waiting among the party. suddenly a voice of command cried "stand!" and we all stood like soldiers on drill. we all faced round to the ikons, and to a monk standing in front of them. a long prayer was said in a very military fashion, and then we all crossed ourselves and took our places at the tables once more. five of the brethren were in attendance, and fluttered up and down, shifting the bread or refilling the wine bowls. we were a mixed company--aged road-worn pilgrims, bright boys come from a local watering-place by coach, red-kerchiefed peasant women, pleasant citizens' wives in town-made blouses, caucasians, a turk, a jew, an austrian waiter, and many others that i took no stock of. the diet is a fast one, just as the hard beds are penance beds, and no one can procure anything different at novy afon for any amount of money. even in the hall reserved for dignitaries and officials the fare was the same as for us in the _tiers état_. the soup was of vegetables only, and much inferior to what the tramp makes for himself by the roadside. the second course was cold salt fish or boiled beans and mushrooms, and the third was dry maize-meal porridge. as each plate was put on the table the brother told us it came from god, and whispered a blessing. there was not much talking; every one was busy eating and drinking. the wine was drunk plentifully, though without any toasts. one felt that more generosity was expressed in the provision of wine than in the other victuals. but for the meal only ten minutes and then once more the peremptory voice "stand!" and we all listened to a long thank-offering and bowed before the ikons. dinner was over. dinner was at eleven in the morning; tea with black bread and no butter at three; supper, a repetition of the dinner menu, at seven; and all doors closed and the people in their beds by eight-thirty. after many nights in the open i slept once more with a roof over my head, and looking up in the night, missed the stars and wondered where they were. iii the monastery bells in pleasant liquid tones struck every quarter of an hour, and at two o'clock in the morning i was awakened by a great jangling, and the sound of steps along the stone corridors. i asked my companions--i was sharing my room with an armenian and a russian--what was the reason of the bell, and i learned that it was the call to early prayers. we none of us got up, but i resolved to go next night if it were possible. next day was one of relaxation after tramping. the armenian went off ten miles to a celebrated cave and a point of view, "the swallows' nest"; he wished me to accompany him, but i had not come to novy afon to find points of view or the picturesque--moreover he had come by steamboat and was fresh, i had come on foot five hundred miles and wanted a rest. in the morning i looked through the workshops, chatted with a master in the little monastery school, lounged in the orange groves and cedar avenues. after dinner, as i sat near the pier, a monk pointed out to me some artificial water where willows drooped, and white swans rode gracefully under them. "you ought to come here at _kreschenie_--twelfth-night. we make of that water a little jordan in memory of the jordan where the son of god was baptized. the ponds are all decorated with fresh-cut grass, laurel leaves, and cypress branches, myrtle and oleander, many roses and wild flowers. scarcely anywhere in all russia could there be found such flowers at that time of the year." "have you pilgrims then?" i asked. "oh yes, many. they come from all the district round about, to dip themselves in the water after it has been made holy. we keep the festival very solemnly. the archimandrite comes down from the monastery, and after him the priests, the monks, the lay brethren, the labourers, the banners and their bearers, and the sacred ikons. there is a long service. though the month is january, the weather is often bright and warm as early summer, and the mountains look very beautiful." as we were thus talking, the archimandrite, ieronym himself, came out of the hostelry yard and passed us, a benign old man, devout and ancient of aspect, but kindly and wise. he is accounted a living saint, and it may well be that after his death he will be canonised. novy afon has only been in existence thirty years, and he has been abbot all the time. the monastery has been his own idea, it has grown with him. if novy afon is a fountain of life, he is the rock out of which the fountain springs. the whole monastery and all its ways are under his guidance, and as he wishes them to be. they are as a good book that he has written, and better than that. he went to a gorgeous little chapel at the base of the landing-stage, there to hold a service in memory of the visit to new athos of their highnesses the late tsar, alexander the third, and his queen, on that day . presently behold the worthy abbot in his glorious robes, cloth of gold from head to foot, and on his head, instead of the sombre black hat of ordinary wear, a great golden crown sparkling with diamonds and rubies. the many clergy stood about him in the little temple, or beyond the door, for there was not room for all, with them some hundred monks, and the multifarious populace. the service was read in hollow, oracular tones, and every now and then a storm of glorious bass voices broke forth in response. evidently the ikon of the virgin named _izbavelnitsa_ was being thanked for her protection of the tsar in a storm. so much i could make out; and every now and then the crowd sang thanks to the virgin. at the end of the service the archimandrite, who had had his back to the people all the time--or rather, to put it more truly, had all the time looked the same way, _with_ the people--turned, and lifting and lowering the gold cross which he held in his hands, gave blessing. the heads and bodies of the worshippers bowed as the cross pointed toward them. the service was over. as the abbot ieronym resumed his ordinary attire, and left the temple, the hundred or so peasant men and women pressed around him, and fervently kissed his little old fingers, white and delicate. i watched the old man give his hand to them--i watched their eagerness. religion was proved to be love. iv what struck me particularly on entering novy afon was the new tone in the every day. there was less of the _barin_ and servant, officer and soldier feeling, less noisy commandings and scoldings, even less beating of the patient horses that have to carry such heavy loads in russia. instead of these, a gentleness and graciousness, something of that which one finds in artistic and mystic communities in russia, in art and in pictures, but which one seldom meets with in public life. here at new athos breathes a true christianity. it was strange how even the undying curiosity of the russian had been conquered; for here i was not asked the thousand and one impertinent questions that it is usually my lot to smile over and answer. there was even a restraint in asking me necessary questions lest they should be difficult to answer. then not one of the monks possesses any property of his own, even of a purely transitory kind, such as a bed or a suit of clothes. they have all in common, and they have not that nicety or necessity of privacy which would compel an englishman to claim the right to wear the same coat and trousers two days running. but the monks are even less diffident of claiming their own separate mugs and plates at table, and are unoffended by miscellaneous eating and drinking from one another's dishes. every one is the servant of all--and without hypocrisy--not only in act but in sentiment and prayer. wherever i went i found the tone ring true. this fair exterior glory seems to spring from a strong inner life. religious life in the holy orthodox church, with its many ordinances and its extraordinary proximity to everyday life, is not allowed to be monotonous and humdrum. each day at new athos is beautiful in itself, and if a monk's life were made into a book of such days one would not turn over two pages at once. the day begins at midnight, when, to the occasional melancholy chime of the cathedral bell, the brothers move to the first service of the morning. on my second night at afon i wakened at the prayer-bell and joined the monks at their service. in the sky was a faint glimmer of stars behind veiling clouds. the monastery, resplendent with marble and silver by day, was now meek and white in the dark bosom of the mountain, and shining like a candle. in the church which i entered there was but one dim light. the clergy, the monks, the faces in the ikon frames all were shadows, and from a distance came hollow shadow music, _gul-l-l_, the murmur of the sea upon the shore. it was the still night of the heart where the dove yet broods over the waters and life is only just begun. at that service a day began, a small life. when the service was over and we returned to our rooms, morning had advanced a small step; the stars were paler, one just made out the contours of the shadowy crags above us. just a little sleep and then time to rise and wash and breakfast. the monks in charge of the kitchen must be up some time before the rest of us. at a.m. the morning service commences, and every monk must attend. then each man goes to his work, some to the carpentry sheds, others to the unfinished buildings, to the brickworks, the basket works, the cattle yards, the orchards and gardens, the cornfields, the laundries, leather works, forges, etc., etc., etc.; the teachers to the schools where the little caucasian children are taught; the abbot to his cell, where he receives the brothers in turn, hears any confession they may wish to make, and gives advice in any sorrow that may have come upon any of them. the old abbot is greatly beloved, and the monks have children's hearts. again in the evening the day is concluded in song and prayer. such is the monastery day. * * * * * no doubt the upkeep of this great establishment costs much; it does not "pay"--the kingdom of god doesn't really "pay." much money has to be sent yearly to novy afon ... and yet probably not so very much. in any case, it is all purely administered, for there are no bribe takers at the monastery. for the rest, it must be remembered that they make their own clothes and tools, grow their own corn and fruits, and manufacture their own electric light. they have the means of independence. such monasteries as novy afon are true institutions of christianity; they do more for the real welfare of a people than much else on which immense sums of money are spent. it is a matter of real charity and real hospitality both of hand and mind combined. the great monastery sits there among the hills like some immense mother for all the rude, rough-handed tribes that live about. in her love she sets an example. by her open-handedness she makes her guests her own children; they learn of her. not only does she say with christ her master, "suffer the little children to come unto me, for of such is the kingdom of heaven," but she makes of all those who come to her, be they fierce of aspect or bearded like the pard, her own children. when the night-bell has rung and all are in their beds--the five hundred brethren, the many lay workers, the hundreds of guests gathered from all parts of russia--the spirit of the monastery spreads itself out over all of them and keeps them all warm. the whole monastery is a home, and all those who are within are brothers and sisters. v though novy afon is new, it is built upon an old site. there was a christian church there in the second and third centuries, but it was destroyed by the persian fire-worshippers; it was restored by the emperor justinian, but destroyed once more by the turks. so completely did the moslem take possession of the country that christianity entirely lapsed till the russian monks sailed down there two years before the russo-turkish war of . novy afon is without christian traditions. it takes its stand completely in the new, and is part of that russian faith which has no past, but only a future. the third century ruins of the cathedral and the roman battlements are indeed of great interest, and many people climb the two thousand feet high crag to look out from the ancient watch-tower. but the attitude of the monastery is well explained in the words of a monk: "people come here to worship god, and we stand here as a witness of god, to pray continually for the coming of the kingdom, and to succour those who come to us. it would be a sign of disrespect to our church if people came here merely to see the ancient remains." i for my part, being of the old though also of the new, was eager to climb the steep stone way along which in ancient days had ridden crusaders and mediaeval warriors. great trees now grew through the rent wall of the cathedral, and slender birches grew straight up in the nave to the eternal roof which had supplanted that of time--to heaven itself.... but alas for romance, the russians are restoring the church, clearing away the old stones, chopping down the trees. an ikon has been set up within the old building, and the latter is already a place of worship. once more: to the eye of a monk a ruined temple is somewhat of an insult to god. there is no fond antiquarianism; all the old latin inscriptions and bas-reliefs that have been found have been mortared together at random into one wall; all the human bones that have been unearthed, and they are many, have been thrown unceremoniously into an open box. even on the bare white ribs and ancient crumbling skulls, bourgeois visitors have written their twentieth-century names. some ancient skeletons have been preserved in a case from pre-mahometan times, and under them is written: with love, we ask you, look upon us. we were like you; you will be like us. the recommendation is unavailing. the bones have been picked up, passed from hand to hand, scrawled upon, joked over. they are probably the remains of strong warriors and early christians, and one can imagine with what peculiar sensations they, in their day, would have regarded this irreverence to their bones could they but have looked forward a thousand years or so. it seemed to me, looking out from the watch-tower of iver over the diminished monastery buildings and the vast and glorious sea, on that which must change and on that which in all ages remains ever the same, some reverence might have been begotten for that in the past which shows what we shall be in the future. the monks might have spared the bones and buried them; they might have left the ruins as they were. i am told that in a few years the work of restoration will be completely achieved, services will be held regularly on the mountain top, and peasant pilgrims will gladly, if patiently, climb morning and evening up the stone way to the church, having no thoughts of any time but that in which they are worshipping. the russian is racially young. he is in the morning and full of prophecy; only in the evening will his eye linger here in the emotions of romance. life at the monastery is new life; it is morning there--it is indeed only a little after the dawn. the day is as yet cool and sweet, and it gives many promises. we can see what the morning is like if we will journey thither. iii i the boy who never grows old up to christmas we are walking with the kings to the babe's cradle, to the birth of new life and new hope. high in the heavens, and yet before us over the hard frost-bitten way, gleams the guiding star whose promise we divine. after christmas we are walking with the spring, with a new, young, whispering child-life in the old heart. though the winds be cold and snow sweep over the land, we know that winter and death are spent. whilst the light grows stronger in the sky, something in us that is wooed by light responds. new eyes open in the soul. spring comes, and then the tramp is marching with the summer. down come the floods, and often for hours one takes shelter from the rain, and it seems as if all we hope for were being inundated. but, as i wrote before, "the spring is not advanced by rain, but it gathers strength in the rain to proceed more quickly when the sun comes out: so also with the tramp." summer is the year itself, all that the other seasons have laboured for. it is the glory of the year. then may the tramp cease marching, for in the height of summer nature also must cease, must cease from going forward to turn back. he may rest in the sun and mature his fruits. autumn is coming and all the year's beauties must yield to death. i think of my autumn on the way to jerusalem, and all that a day told me then. the skies became grey at last, and cold searching winds stole into the summer weather. many things that by sunlight i should have rejoiced in became sombre and ugly in the shade. the tobacco farms, with their myriad tobacco leaves drying and rotting from green into yellow, became ill-kept and untidy, the peasants harvesting them surly and unwashed: the sky spread over them no glamour. i was walking over the swamps of sukhum, and i noticed all that i disliked--the deep dust on the road, the broken-down bridges, the streams that cattle had befouled. it was perhaps a district that lacked charm even in fine weather. there were some compensations. in a wilderness of wilted maize fields, and mud or wattle-built villages, one's eyes rested with affection upon slender trees laden with rosy pomegranates--the pomegranate on the branch is a lovely rusty-brown fruit, and the tree is like a briar with large berries. then the ancient drandsky monastery was a fair sight, white-walled and green-roofed against the background of black mountains, the mountains in turn shown off against the snowy ranges of the interior caucasus. the clouds hung unevenly over the climbing mountains, so that far snow-bestrewn headlands looked like the speckly backs of monsters stalking up into the sky. i walked through miles and miles of brown bracken and rosy withered azalea leaves. there came a day of rain, and i spent thirty-six hours in a deserted house, staring most of the time at the continuous drench that poured from the sky. i made myself tea several times from the rainwater that rushed off the roof. i crouched over a log fire, and wondered where the summer had gone. it needed but a day of rain to show how tired all nature was. the leaves that were weighed down with water failed to spring back when the rain had passed. the dry and dusty shrubs did not wash green as they do in the spring. all became yellower and browner. that which had come out of the earth took a long step back towards the earth again. tramping all day through a sodden forest, i also experienced the autumnal feeling, the promise of rest, a new gentleness. all things which have _lived_ through the summer welcome the autumn, the twilight of the long hot day, the grey curtain pulled down over a drama which is played out. all day the leaves blew down as if the trees were preparing beds for the night of winter. in a month all the woods would be bare and stark, the bushes naked, the wild flowers lost in the copse; nought green but the evergreens. and yet but a week ago, rhododendrons at new athos, wild roses and mallow in full bloom at gudaout, acres of saffron hollyhocks, and evening primroses at sotchi! i had entered an exposed country, colder than much of the land that lay far to the north. two days later the clouds moved away, the zenith cleared, and after it the whole sky, and then along the west and the south, as far as eye could see, was a great snow-field, mountain after mountain, and slope after slope all white to the sky. a cold wind, as of january, blew keenly from the snow, and even froze the puddles on the road. it seemed we had journeyed thus suddenly not only to autumn, but to winter itself. but at noon the sun was hot again. the new-born brimstone butterflies were upon the wing, a flutter of lambent green. they were of the time, and young. they must live all winter and waken every sunny day till next spring--the ambassadors of this summer to the next. all that belongs to the past is tired, and even at the bidding of the sun insect life is loth to rise. the grasshopper is tired, the dragon-fly loves to crouch among the shadows, the summer-worsted fritillary butterflies pick themselves out of their resting-places to flutter a little further; their wings, once thick with yellow down and shapely, are now all broken, transparent, ragged. the tramp's summer also is over. he will not lie full length in the sun till the spring comes round again. for the ground is wet, and the cold is searching. i walked more miles in the cold fortnight that took me to batoum than in a whole month before new athos. there was in the air a sting "that bids nor sit nor stand, but go." yet thoughts were plentiful, and many memories of past autumns came back to me. how many are the rich, melancholy afternoons of late october or early november, golden afternoons that occur year after year, when one feels one's thoughts parting from the mind easily and plentifully without urging, as overripe fruit falling at last since no one has grasped it before. i hurried along the road, full of sad thoughts. the year was growing to be an old man. it looked back at spring, at the early days when it first felt the promises of life's glory and scarcely dared believe them true, at laughing may, at wide and spacious june, and then the turning of the year. it almost seemed to me that i had grown old with the year, that i had even gathered in my fruits, as indeed i had, only they were more the year's fruits than mine: i had been the guest of the year. i walked as within sight of a goal. in my imagination i saw ahead of me the winter stretches of country that i should come to, all white with snow, the trees all hoar, the people all frosted. i had literally become aware of the fact that i was travelling not only over land but over time. in the far horizon of the imagination i looked to the snowy landscapes of winter, and they lay across the road, hiding it, so that it seemed i should go no further. old age, old age; i was an old, bearded, heavy-going, wrinkled tramp, leaning on a stout stick; my grey hairs blew about my old red ears in wisps. i stopped all passers-by upon the road, and chuckled over old jokes or detained them with garrulity. but no, not old; nor will the tramp ever be old, for he has in his bosom that by virtue of which, even in old age, he remains a boy. there is in him, like the spring buds among the withered leaves of autumn, one never-dying fountain of youth. he is the boy who never grows old. father time, when he comes and takes some of us along his ways into middle-age, will have to pull. time is a dotard, an aged parent; some boys that are very strong and young are almost too much for him; when he comes to take them from the garden of boyhood they kick and punch; when time tries to coax them, pointing out the advantages of middle-age, they turn their heads from him and refuse to listen. if at last they are taken away by main force, it is with their backs to the future, and their faces all angry, twisted, agonised, looking back at the garden in which they want to stay. ii the story of zenobia i have known her in summer and in winter--in summer flushed and gorgeous like the wild rose, in winter lily-pale, or grey and haggard as the town she lived in. she was a beautiful daughter of the earth, a wondrous flower. the summer night was in her dark hair, the south wind in her eyes. whoever looked upon her in silence knew himself in the presence of the mystery of beauty, of the mystery of an imperious inner beauty. it was because of this, because of some majestic spirit manifest in her, shining through her in soul's colours, that i called her zenobia, naming her after that blythedale zenobia who always wore the rich hot-house flower in her bosom. and it was to me as if my zenobia wore that flower there also, and in silence, a new flower each day, wondrous and rich. never could she be seen without that flower there, and it was as if on that flower depended her very life. should the flower at any time be wanting, then all were wanting. i remember her as she was one june when we gathered eglantine together, and the richest and deepest of all reds in roses. in the midsummer afternoons we plucked our garlands and brought them home at sunset time. such afternoons they were, tempting all living things into the symphony of glory, such afternoons of splendour that now, looking back, it seems to be the very acme of their glory that we also were to be found there in those woods with all the rest. we came, soft stepping into the scene, and nature, which moves continuously, harmoniously, did in the same moment build a throne and take us in it. at once the life from us flowed out, and the life about flowed in. surely these were days of large orchestras, and of wonderful and complex melodies. zenobia moved like a queen over the scene, her rich garments sweeping over the soft grass, her graceful arms swinging as with secret blessings. all the living things of the day seemed eager to be her pages; she was indeed a queen. the world needed her and the world went well because of her. the birds sang, they had not sung so sweetly but for her; the sun shone, it had not shone so brightly but for her; the roses stood on tiptoe on the bushes asking to be picked by her; the very air played lovingly about her, stealing and giving freshness. the memory of all this comes out to me with a rush whenever i open a book of poems at a certain page, and with it comes the odour of sweet-brier and honeysuckle. it was in a june, one of the past junes when we also were june glory, beautiful, full-blossoming, and not more self-conscious than the brier itself. i think now of the greens and crimsons, the blaze of holy living colour in which we were able to exist and breathe....the afternoon passed, the evening came. light unfolded silken banners of crimson floated down over the sky; crimson flower torches danced upwards from zenobia's hands, living rose glowed from out her cheeks. about us and around floated lambent reds and blues and greens. the deep lake looked into her eyes, the trees nodded to her, birds flew over her, the first stars peeped at her. mysterious, breathless, was the summer night. an influence of the time seemed to press upon us; something exhaled from the mystery of flowers drew sleep down upon us. twilight lay upon the eyebrows of the girl, and the cloud of her dark hair nodded over it like the oncoming night. we sat down upon a grass mound. we ourselves, nature around us, all things of the day, seemed under a spell. sleep lay about the roses, the bushes mused inwardly, the honeysuckle exhaled enchantment and was itself enchanted. then the things of the night came. the myriad midges performed their rites over the blackthorn and the oak, and blackthorn and oak looked as if changed into stone. the mice and the shrews crept safely over the toes of the blackberry bushes, the rabbits came tumbling along through banks of inanimate grass. and fat night-moths sucked honey from half-conscious flowers, and the same moths whirred duskily round our gathered roses or darted daringly into our faces. we were like the flowers and the grass and the blackberry and blackthorn. the night which had overtaken them and put them to sleep had settled upon us also, and the things of the night came out securely at our feet. for a moment, a sport of habit had betrayed us to the old eden habits, had taken us a step into a forgotten harmony. but below the surface the old fought secretly with the new, that old that seems so much the newest of the new, that new that really is so old and stale. the new must have won, and in me first, for i rose suddenly, brusquely, as if somehow i felt i had unawares been acting unaccountably foolishly. i looked at my companion; the mood was still upon her, and i believe she might easily have slumbered on into the night, but as she saw me rise, the new in her gained reinforcement, and she too rose in a sort of mild surprise. now i think i might have left her there to awaken late in the night, a new titania with the moonbeams coming through the forest branches to her. i awakened her. i think she has often been awakened since then, but indeed it is seldom now that she is allowed to slip into such slumber. we walked home and i said some poems on the way; she heard. i think she heard in the same way as a flower feels the touch of a bee. no words had she, no poetry of words to give back. she had not awakened to articulateness. she had no thoughts; she breathed out beauty. she understood no thoughts; she breathed in beauty from around. * * * * * this was zenobia, this was her aspect when she was taken, when the change came over her life. that marvellous mechanism, the modern state, with its mysterious springs and subterranean attractions and exigencies, drew her in to itself. the modern state, whose every agent is called necessity, had appealed to her. and she had been taken. she settled on the outskirts of a city and half her life was spent under a canopy of smoke, whilst in the other half she courted morning and evening twilights. in the first june of this time, in afternoons and evenings, we had lived together among the roses, and she had stood at the zenith of her glory. but with the coming on of autumn the roses withered, and something of the old dreaminess left her eyes. a little melancholy settled upon her, and she discovered she was lonely. but the town had seen her, and henceforth the town took charge of her. it sent its angels to her. one might wonder what the town used her for, this inarticulate one--it made her a teacher because of her good memory. then it regarded her as "good material." it sent its angels, those voluntary servants of the state, the acquaintances who call themselves friends. these at first approved of her, always misunderstood her, and at length despised her. they misunderstood her, because a person truly inarticulate was incomprehensible to them. her naïveté they mistook for insolence, her dreaminess for disrespect. they confused her memory with her understanding. they gave her books to read, brought her to lectures, sat her at the theatre, took her to hear sermons, prayed with her and drank with her the holy wine. and some would say, "isn't she coming on?" or "isn't she developing?" and others, more perceiving, would say, "well, even if she isn't getting anything from it, at least she's seeing life"; while others, more perceiving still, gave her up as past hope. "she has no brains," they said. others, still more perceiving, said she had no soul, no love; she cared for no one, understood nothing. she, for her part, went on almost as ever, and remained next to inarticulate. only now and again the hubbub of battle in the schoolroom would awaken her to some sort of conscious exasperation. she would appeal to her class, staring at them with eyes from which all gentleness and affection had merged into astonishment and indignation. for the rest, lack of life, lack of sun, lack of life influence told upon her beauty. she did not understand the influence of the ill-constituted around her, and did not understand the pain which now and again thrilled through her being, provoking sighs and word-sighs. then those friend-acquaintances, ever on the alert for an expression of real meaning, interpreted her sighs and longings for week-ends in the country. verily it is true, one cannot serve god and mammon. there was no health forthcoming through this compromise with life. she merely felt more pain. she continued her work in the town, and was enrolled and fixed in many little circles where little wheels moved greater wheels in the great state-machine. ostensibly, always now, whatever new she did was a step toward saving her soul. i met her one january night; she was going to a tea-meeting in connection with a literary society. very grey her face looked. many of the old beautiful curves were gone, and mysteries about her dimples and black hair-clusters seemed departed irrevocably. still much in her slept safe, untouched as ever, and, as ever, she was without thoughts. her memory suggested what she should say to me. "it will be interesting," she remembered. i helped her off with coat and furs. she was dressed wonderfully. the gown she wore--of deep cinnamon and gold--was still the dress of zenobia, and at her bosom the strange flower exhaled its mystery. i went in with her to the hot room. she was evidently a queen here, as in the forest glades. and her pale face lit up as she moved about among the "little-worldlings" and exchanged small-talk and cakes and tea. she was evidently in some way responsible for the entertainment, for the chairman said "they all owed her so much." i watched her face, it showed no sign of unusual gratification; had he slighted her, i am sure she would have listened as equably. what a mask her face was! the look of graciousness was permanent, and probably only to me did she betray her continuous sleepiness and lack of interest in the whole affair. members propounded stupendously solemn questions about the "salvation of man," the "state of progress," the mystic meaning of passages of the bible, and the like; and i watched her draw on her memory for answers. she was never at a loss, and her interlocutors went away, and named their little child-thoughts after her. i took her away at last and whispered some things in her ears, and showed her what could be seen of moon and stars from the narrow street, and something of the old summer feeling came over us. how the old time sang sorrowfully back, plaintively, piteously. our steps sounded along some silent streets, the doors of the little houses were shut and dark. they might have been the under doors of tombs. silently we walked along together, and life sang its little song to us from the depths of its prison. it sounded like the voice of a lover now lost for ever, one worth more beyond compare than any that could come after. there is no going back. i saw her to her little home and touched her tenderly at goodbye. she went in. the door closed and i was left standing alone in front of the closed door, and there was none around but myself. then i was aware of a gust in the night-breeze blowing up for rain. time had changed. something had been taken from the future and something had been added to the past. the spiral gusts lifted the unseen litter of the street, and with them the harpies rose in my breast. and words impetuous would have burst out like the torrents of rain which the dark sky threatened. the torrent came. a girl like this simply grows like a flower on a heath, blossoms, fades, withers, and is lost. no more than that. i scarcely tell what i want to say. oh, how strongly i would whisper it into the inmost heart! life is not thoughts, is not calm, is not sights, is not reading or music, is not the refinement of the senses,--life is--life. this is the great secret. this is the original truth, and if we had never begun to think, we should never have lost our instinctive knowledge. in one place flowers rot and die; in another, bloom and live. the truth is that in this city they rot and die. this is not a suitable place for a strong life; men and women here are too close together, there is not enough room for them, they just spring up thinly and miserably, and can reach no maturity, and therefore wither away. all around are the ill-constituted, the decaying, the dying. what chance had fresh life coming into the tainted air of this stricken city--this city where provision is made only for the unhealthy? for here, because something is the matter, every one has begun conscience-dissecting--thinking--and a rumour has got abroad that we live to get thoughts of god. and because thoughts of god are novel and comforting, they have been raised up as the great desideratum. and the state of society responsible for the production of these thoughts is considered blessed. the work of intensifying the characteristics of that society is thought blessed, and because in ease we think not, we prefer to live in disease. and the progress of disease we call progress. so progress and thought are substituted for life. there _is_ a purpose of god in this city, but there is as much purpose in the desert. there is no astonishingly great purpose. the disease will work itself out. and i know god's whole truth to man was revealed long since, and any one of calm soul may know it. the hope of learning the purpose through the ages, the following of the gleam, is the preoccupation of the insane. what do all these people and this black city want to make of _her_? she, and ten thousand like her, need life. life, not thought, or progress, just the same old human life that has always been going on. the rain was pouring heavily and i took shelter. i felt calmer; i had unpacked myself of words. rather mournfully i now looked out into the night, and, as it were, ceased to speak to it, and became a listener. a song of sorrow came from the city, the wailing of mothers uncomforted, of children orphaned, uncared for, of forsaken ones. i heard again the old reproach of the children sitting in the market. "here surely," i said, "where so many are gathered together, there is more solitude and lonely grief than in all the wide places of the earth!" voices came up to me from thousands in a city where thousands of hands were uplifted to take a cup of comfort that cannot be vouchsafed. is there a way out for _her_? is there a way out for them? "for her perhaps, for them not," something whispered within me inexorably. "and death?" the wind caught up the whisper "death" caressingly and took it away from me over the city, and wove it in and out through all the streets and all the dark lanes, and about the little chimneys, and the windows. is there a way out for her?--perhaps. there are some beings so full of life that even the glutton death must disgorge them. iii the little dead child in the little town of gagri on the caucasian shore of the black sea there is a beautiful and wonderful church surviving from the sixth century, a work of pristine christianity. it is but the size of a cottage, and just the shape of a child's noah's ark, but made of great rough-hewn blocks of grey stone. one comes upon the building unexpectedly. after looking at gagri's ancient ruins, her fortresses, her wall built by mithridates, one sees suddenly in a shadowy close six sorrowful little cypresses standing absolutely still--like heavily dressed guardsmen--and behind the cypresses and their dark green brooms, the grey wall of the church, solid, eternal. one's eyes rest upon it as upon a perfect resting-place. if gagri has an organic life, this church must be its beating heart. i came to gagri one saturday afternoon after the first two hundred and fifty miles tramping of my pilgrimage to jerusalem, and at this little church i witnessed a strange sight. i had hardly admired the grey interior, the bare walls growing into the roof in unbroken curves, the massive stone rood-screen, the sorrowful faces in the holy pictures, when a little procession filed into the church; four girls carrying a flower-bedecked coffin, half a dozen elders, and a pack of children carrying candles--a sight at once terrible and diurnal, a child's funeral. russian churches, having no chairs, have the appearance of being almost empty. in the centre of this emptiness at gagri church two trestles were put up, and the open coffin placed upon them; in the coffin, lying in a bed of fresh flowers and dressed in delicate white garments, was a little dead child. the coffin was perfectly and even marvellously arranged; it would be difficult to imagine anything more beautiful, and at the same time more terrible. a girl of about four years, she lay in the coffin as in bed, with her head somewhat raised, and the face looking directly at the altar and at the sorrowful pictures; on her head was a cream silk embroidered bonnet, on her forehead, from ear to ear, a paper _riza_ with delicate line drawings of the story of the girl's angel, st. olga. a high lighted candle stood at her head, two little ones at each side, and two at her feet. the bonnet and the dress were tied with little bits of pink ribbon; the child's hands, small, white, all lovely, lay one upon another, and in one of them was a little white cross. the face and arms were the colour of fine grey wax, the lips thin, dark red and set--the little dead girl looked steadfastly at the ikons. i stood and wondered. round about the coffin were a score of people, mostly little children, who every now and then nicked away flies that were about to settle on the dead body. the grey church and its beauty melted away. there was only a little grey wax figure lying poised before the face of christ, and little children flicking away flies. among the flowers in the coffin i noticed a heavy metal cross--it would be buried with her. hanging over the trestles at each of the four corners were gorgeous hand-embroidered towels. "this is some rich person's child," i thought as i waited--it was twenty minutes before the father, the mother, and the priest arrived. i was mistaken; this was the child of ordinary peasants. * * * * * i wonder the mother was allowed to come to church; she was frantic with grief. when she came into the church she fell down on her knees and hugged the dead body and kissed it and sobbed--sobbed so horribly that except for the children there was no one present who kept dry eyes. the husband stood with his hands dangling at his side, his lips all puckered, his hair awry, and the tears streaming down his red cheeks. but when the priest came in he took the good woman aside and quieted her, and in his words surely was comfort. "those who die as children are assured of that glorious life above, for of them christ said, 'suffer the little children to come unto me, and forbid them not, _for of such is the kingdom of heaven._' least of all should we grieve when a child dies." i held a candle with the others and joined in the little service, and when the service was over ate of the boiled rice and grapes that were handed round to save us from evil spirits. the candles were put out, the priest retired, and then the sobbing broke forth once more, the people crowded round the coffin and one by one kissed the little dead one, kissed her again and again. most of all the little children kissed her, and the father in distraction stood by, calling out in broken treble, "say good-bye to her, children, say good-bye!" last of all, the wild mother said good-bye, and was only taken away by sheer force. then the lid was put on the coffin, and the four girls--they were each about twelve years old--lifted it on the embroidered towels and carried it out of the church. the mother fainted and was taken into the open air, where one woman helped to revive her by pouring water on her head out of an old kettle, and another by drinking water and spurting it out again in her face. meanwhile the father took eight nails--he had them in his pocket--and with all the crowd looking on, he nailed down the lid of the coffin. the girls once more lifted their burden upon the beautiful towels, and they bore it away to the grave. the crowd followed them with hymns-- all we like dust go down into the grave, the sound of their singing almost drowned by the beating of their uneven steps. the music modulated and died away to the silence of the evening. the little church remained grey and ancient, and the six cypresses stood unmoved, unmoving, like guards before some sacred portal.... and the pilgrim goes on his way. iv how the old pilgrim reached bethlehem at new athos monastery in one of the common hostels there were some hundred peasant men and women, mostly pilgrims. it was after supper; some of the company were melting away to the dormitories, others remained talking. there was one topic of conversation common to all. an old greybeard palmer had broken down that afternoon and died. he had been almost his whole life on the road to jerusalem, and we all felt sad to think that he had been cut off when he was truly nearing the holy land. "he wished to go since he was a little boy," said old jeremy, an aged pilgrim in a faded crimson shirt. every one paid respect to jeremy and listened to him. he was a placid greybeard who had spent all his life upon the road, full of wisdom, gentle as a little child, and very frail. "he wished to go when he was a little boy--that means he began to go when he was a little boy, for whenever you begin to wish you begin the pilgrimage. after that, no matter where you are, you are sure to be on the way. up in the north the rivers flow under the earth, and no one sees them. but suddenly the river appears above the land, and the people cry out, 'see, the river is flowing to the sea.' but it began to go to the sea long ago. so it was with mikhail. all his life he was a pilgrim. he lived in a distant land. he was born of poor parents, not here, but far away in the petchora province--oh, far, far away." grandfather jeremy waved his hand to signify how far. "four thousand versts at least, and he hasn't come straight by a long way. most of the way he walked, and sometimes he got a lift, sometimes a big lift that took him on a long way." "ah, ah!" said a youngster sympathetically, "and all in vain, all in vain--_naprasno, naprasno_--" jeremy paid no attention. "big lifts," his voice quavered. "and now he is there. yes, now he is there." "where, grandfather?" "there, where he wished to be, in the holy city. he had got very tired, and god had mercy on him. god gave him his last lift. he is there now, long before us." "i don't see how you make that out," said a young man, a visitor, not a pilgrim. "god, i reckon, cheated him." "god never cheats," said jeremy calmly. "god..." said the visitor, and was about to raise a discussion and try to convert these pilgrims from their superstition. but jeremy interrupted him. for the old man, though a peasant, had a singular dignity. "hush! pronounce not his name lightly. i will tell you a story." "silence now!" cried several. "hear grandfather's story!" the old man then told the story of an aged pilgrim who had died on his way to jerusalem. i thought he was repeating the story of the life of mikhail, so like were his present words to those that had gone before. but the issue was different. in this case the pilgrim died and was buried in a little village near odessa. he was a penniless beggar. in grandfather's picturesque language, "he had no money; instead of which he bore the reproach of christ. he found other men's charity.... "all his life he wandered towards bethlehem. he used to say he pilgrimaged not towards calvary, but towards bethlehem. the thought that the roman officials had treated christ as a thief was too much for him to bear. "he who possessed all things they treated as one who had stolen a little thing...." the old man paused at this digression, and stared around him with an expression of terror and stupefaction. there was a silence. "go on, jeremy," said some one impatiently. jeremy proceeded. "he always journeyed towards bethlehem, and whenever he saw a little child, a little baby, he would say to the mother that it foretold him what it would be like for him at the holy land. and of the cradles he would always say they were just the shape of the manger where the baby christ was laid. "he was very dear to mothers, you may be sure, and he never lacked their blessing. "he travelled very slowly, for in moscow a motor-car ran over his foot, and he always needed a strong staff. he was ill-treated sometimes in the towns, where the dogs bit him and the street children aimed stones. but he never took offence. he smiled, and thought how little his sufferings had been compared with those of the saints. "so he grew old. "'you are old, grandfather; you will never reach jerusalem,' the peasant women told him. but he always smiled and said, 'as god wills. perhaps if i die i shall see it sooner.' "and he died, poor, wretched, uncared for, in the streets of a little village near odessa, and children came and beat off the hungry dogs from his body with sticks. "'what is this?' said one policeman to another. "'a _bogo-moletz_ (god-prayer) dead, that's all,' was the reply. "'no money?' "'none. if he had any his pockets have been picked.' "by his passport he belonged to petchora province, far away. no one knew him. no one claimed him. "'it means he must be buried at the public expense,' said the head man of the village, and spat upon the ground. "in the whole village only the coffin maker rejoiced, and he had small cause, since a pauper's coffin costs but a shilling. "'he must be buried on the common,' said the head man. 'there's no room in the churchyard.' "'but a pilgrim,' said an objector. 'you must bury him in consecrated ground; you can't shut him out of the heavenly kingdom.' "'no matter. ask the priest. if the dead man can pay for a plot of ground for a grave, well and good; or if the villagers will subscribe....' "the head man looked at the little crowd assembled. they were a poor and needy crowd. no one answered him. then, without doing any more, the head man walked away, and the dead body remained in the street. "it seemed no one would pay for the grave, but in the afternoon a woman who lived on the outskirts came and claimed the pilgrim as a distant relative. he could scarcely have been a relative, except inasmuch as we are all descended from adam. "the head man and the village priest rejoiced, and the woman took the dead body home and washed it, and clothed it in white linen, and she ordered a three-rouble coffin covered with purple cloth. "but she was a very poor woman, and when she had paid for the grave she had no money to pay for singers and for prayers. "'god will have mercy,' she said. 'and belike he was a good man, a pilgrim.' "and that woman was a virgin," added jeremy abruptly and, as i thought, irrelevantly. but the chambers of that old man's mind were strangely furnished. "she was a virgin. what remains to be said? she hired a man to dig a grave, and another to wheel the barrow with the coffin. she had no friends who would follow the coffin with her, but in the main street she found a cripple whom she had once befriended, and two little boys who liked to sing the funeral chant. "thus the old pilgrim was taken to the grave, and in his honour a simple woman, two street children, and a cripple followed his corse." * * * * * there was a long pause. "you think he died," old jeremy went on. "oh, no; he did not die, he only went on more quickly. when he fell down dead in the street his soul suddenly began a new life, a life like a dream. whilst the dogs were barking and snapping at his old legs he suddenly saw in front of him in the darkness a great bright star beckoning him, and in his new life he got up from the road and rushed towards that star--rushed, for he felt young again, younger than any boy, and all the lameness and tiredness were passed away. "suddenly, in front of him, and coming to meet him, he saw a horse, draped all in silk, and attendants. a man came up to him and saluted him, offered him a crown, and bade him rise up upon the horse. he sat upon the horse, and, looking at himself, saw that he was dressed in cloth of gold. behind him was a great train of attendants, carrying gifts. and they all journeyed forward, towards the star. "eh, brothers," said jeremy, looking round, "what a change in the estate of our poor friend! he has now become one of the first, because on earth he was one of the last. he is a king." the listeners were all silent, and the narrator enjoyed a triumph. * * * * * jeremy's cracked old voice went on, and now again somewhat irrelevantly. "and the woman, who was a virgin, conceived and bore a child, and she was so poor that the child was laid in a manger. and three kings arrived, bearing precious gifts, and they did homage unto the child. it was at bethlehem. one of these kings was the poor pilgrim who died on his way to the holy land." "what woman was this?" said the visitor contemptuously. "your wits are wandering, old man. do you mean it was the same woman who buried him?" "the same," said jeremy huskily, "only in a different world. there are other worlds, you know. but it is very true. he came as one of the kings. and the woman now has a beautiful child. she knows.... so we shan't be very sad about mikhail. i think he also to-day is following that star, and will be at bethlehem to-night." "only it doesn't happen to be christmas eve," said the sceptical visitor. "eh, hey," said another pilgrim, breaking in, "there's a man--he doesn't know that it is christmas every day in the year at bethlehem." iv the wanderer's story i. my companion when star passes star once in a thousand years, or perhaps once in the forever, and does not meet again, what a tale has each to tell! so with tramps and wanderers when two meet upon the road, what a tale of life is due from one to the other. many tramps have i met in the world. far from the west i have met those who came far from the east, and men have passed me coming from the south, and men from the north. and sometimes men have suddenly appeared on my way as if they had fallen from the sky, or as if they had started up out of the earth. one morning when i was dwelling in a cave between a mountain and a river i met him who tells this story. probably the reader has never lived in a cave and does not appreciate cave life--the crawling in at night, the long and gentle sleep on the soft grey sand, the crawling out again at morning, the washing in the river, the stick-collecting and kettle-boiling, the berry-gathering, the lazy hours of noon, the lying outstretched on the springy turf, sun-drinking, the wading in the river and the plashing of the rushing water over one's legs; sunny days, grey days, rainy days, the joyous delight in the beautiful world, the exploration of one's own heart, the sadness of self-absorption. it was on a grey day when i met the strange tramp whose life-mystery is here told. i came upon him on a quiet forenoon, and was surprised by him. he came, as it were, out of thin air. i had been looking at the river with eyes that saw not--i was exploring my own heart and its memories--when suddenly i turned round and saw him, smiling, with a greeting on his countenance. it was long since i had looked upon a man; for though quite near the highway, no one had found me out in my snug cave. i was like a bird that had built a nest within earshot of a road along which many schoolboys ran. and any one discovering my little house was like to say, "fancy, so near to the road, so unsuspected!" "good-morning, friend," said i, "and greeting! you are the first who has found his way to this cave. you are a wanderer like myself, i perceive. come, then, and share my noonday solitude, and in return give me what you have to share." "forgive me," said he, "i thought i heard a voice; that was why i came. i thought i heard a call, a cry." i looked at him. he was a strange man, but with something peculiarly familiar in his figure. his dark hair spread over a brow whiter than mine, and veiled two deep and gentle eyes; and his sun-tanned face and dusty hat made him look like a face such as one sometimes sees in a dream. "you heard not me," i answered, "unless it was my thoughts that you heard." he smiled. i felt we need not say more. i sat with my back to the sun and he lay stretched in front of me, and thus we conversed; thus two wanderers conversed, two like spirits whose paths had crossed. "now tell me," said i, "who you are, dear wanderer, stretched out at my feet like a shadow, and like a shadow of my own life. how long have you been upon the road, when did you set out, where is your home and why did you leave it?" the tramp smiled. "i am a wanderer and a seeker," he replied. "in one sense the whole world is my home, in that i know all its roads and am nowhere a stranger. in another sense i have no home, for i know not where i began or where i come from. i do not belong to this world." "what!" said i, starting up suddenly and consequently disturbing my companion. "you are then an apparition, a dream-face, a shadow. you came out of thin air!" i stood up, and he turned familiarly about me and whispered like an echo in my ear, "out of thin air." and he laughed. "and you?" he went on. "on what star did you begin? can _you_ tell me? never yet have i found a man who could answer that question. but we do not know, because we cannot remember. my conscious life began one evening long ago when i stepped out of a coach on to a high road, this same road by which you have your cave. i had come from god-knows-where. i went backward, i came forward; i went all about and round about, and never found my kith and kin. i was absorbed into the world of men and shared its illusions, lived in cities, worked for causes, worshipped idols. but thanks to the bright wise sun i always escaped from those 'gloomy agreeable nooks.' it has now become my religion to avoid the town, the places where men make little homes which make us forget that in truth we have no homes. i have learned to do without the town, without the great machine that provides man with a _living._ i have sucked in a thousand rains, and absorbed a thousand suns, lain on many thousand banks of the earth. i have walked at the foot of mountains along long green valleys, i have climbed great ranges and peeped over them, i have lived in barren and in fertile places, and my road-companion has been nature herself." i smiled upon my visitor and said, "how like you are to me, my friend! stay with me and let us talk awhile. grey days come, and rain, and we shall live in this cave together and converse. in you i see a brother man. in you as in a clear mirror i see the picture of my own soul, a darling shadow. your songs shall be the words of my happiness, your yearning shall be the expression of my own aching heart. i shall break bread with you and we shall bathe together in the river. i shall sleep with you and wake with you, and be content to see you where'er i turn." that evening at sunset he crawled with me into the cave. and he slept so sweetly that i held him in my own heart. next morning at sunrise we clambered out together, and together we gathered sticks, and together bent over the fire and blew into its struggling little flames. life was rich. we hob-nobbed together. we doubled all our happinesses, and we promised to share all our griefs. sitting on the rocks--there were many of them about, of all shape and size--we taught one another songs. i wrote songs; he sang them. i told him of places where i had been; he described them to me so that they lived again before me. i told him of beauteous women i had met; he had met them also and revealed to me their loving hearts. he could give the leaping love in my heart a precious name. i verily believe that when the sun was setting golden behind a great cliff, he could bid it stop and shine upon us an hour longer. timid and shy at first, he grew more daring afterwards and interpreted my wishes even before i was myself aware of them. he was constantly devising some new happiness. his bird's heart was a fast overflowing fountain. then when rainy days came we crouched together in the cave like night-birds sheltered from the day, and we whispered and recounted and planned. i scribbled in my diary in pencil, and he re-wrote my scribbling in bright-coloured chalks, and drew side pictures and wrote poems. many are the pages we thus wrote together; some he wrote, some i wrote, and there are many from both of us in this volume. when i thought to make a book he laughed and said, "you are making to yourself a graven image." he held it idolatry to imagine that beautiful visions could be represented in words. "i shall not worship the book," i urged. "other people may, or they may revile it," he answered, laughing. "it's the same sin." "lest they worship or revile idolatrously, i shall write a notice," said i. "for though i praise nature ill, and express her ill, she, the wonderful spirit, is beyond all praise or blame." and i wrote these words: "_lest any one should think that in these pages life itself is accounted for, any beauty set down in words, any yearning defined, or sadness utterly plumbed, it is hereby notified that such appreciation is false--that in these pages lies only the symbol of life, the guide-post to the hearts of those who wrote the words. follow, gentle reader, the directions we have given; tread the roads that we have trod, and see again what we have seen._" to which i added this note: "_the poetry is from my companion's pen, the prose from mine._" and my companion, not content with that, wrote a postscript: "_there is no prose, and the pen by itself writes nothing at all._" ii. how my companion found himself in a coach "there is one event in my life that i cannot account for," said my companion, "and it has conditioned all my living, an event psychologically strange. i appear, in a way, to have lost my memory at one era of my existence. i look at the event i am going to relate, and simply stare in perplexed wonder. somewhere, somewhen, i lost something in my mind! what was that something? "most people can tell the story of their life as they themselves remember it. their memory takes them back to their earliest years, and the memory seems satisfactory to them. but there is a mystery in mine which to my mind remains unexplained. i remember nothing before the age of twenty-one. as far as my memory is concerned i might have been born then. more strange still, i recognise nothing of a past before then, and no one comes out of that past and claims recognition of me. "this i remember in a dim phantasmal way as the very beginning of things: my getting into a coach in a white mist. even in that i constantly feel a doubt that my imagination has been playing false with memory. certainly i do remember finding myself in a coach, but at the startled moment when my conscious life began, it appeared to me that i had never been anywhere in my life but sitting in the coach. a certain intellectual _horror vacuum_ may have evoked that mental image of an entering of the coach, but even then i wholly fail to fill in the life and place from which i came. all behind that strange misty entering on the coach-steps is grey, empty mist-land. "it was a large, smooth-rolling coach, most like a commodious omnibus, and full of a most jovial company. i sat half-way along one of the two lengthy seats, and opposite me was a red-faced man, with large shiny eyes and greasy hair. on one side of me was a jolly country girl of about twenty-five, on the other a thin, dry-looking man. there was an incessant din of conversation and singing; we were leaning towards one another, and saying what jolly fellows we were, we should never part. a bottle was always going round, and every now and then the postilion blew his horn; six horses clattered in front, the dust rolled off behind. i remember myself in a strange state of excitement. "it was afternoon when i began to think. actually, at that time i knew i had no memory, but i dared not face the fact. i strove to evade thought by being one of the company. how my cheeks burned as i laughed and talked! i remember pulling a fat man by the sleeve, and whispering in his ear some secret that made us roll back and collapse in laughter. and the coach sped on. "it seemed an eternal afternoon--chiefly because it filled up all the past for me. i could remember nought before it. "at last, however, a grand sunset ran scarlet over the whole sky--we still jested, and it was at this time that a little dwarf-like man in a corner appeared fearful to me; there was a fiery reflection of the sunset in his eyes. i saw him once so, i dared not look again. thoughts were fighting me. my jollity was losing ground. i foresaw that in a short time i should cease to belong to the company, that i should belong utterly to myself, and there would be no escaping from my thoughts. then at last we passed out of the sunlit country into a place of grey light. it was really natural; the sunset was gone, here was grey twilight. but my disordered mind expected i know not what, either eternal sunset or sudden black night; i cannot say now. i was struck with terror. and standing still with myself, i felt absolutely confounded by the self-question i asked. "'where are we going?' "till that moment i had not realised that ignorance of the past meant ignorance of the future. i asked where we were going. the laughter and conversation increased. i was answered, but in a jargon i found quite incomprehensible. another question. "'who under heaven were these people?' "i stood up and staggered. i must have appeared drunk, for i was greeted with howls and cheers, an inferno of cries and laughter; and the red-faced man stood up also and clung to me, and brought his queer face close up to mine. the girl also clung to me. then it occurred to me, this was the crisis of a nightmare; in a moment these phantasmal restraints would burst, and i should find myself peacefully--where? "i remember what seemed a prolonged struggle among laughter and sighs and affectionate clingings, and i got at last out at the door and down the steps. i found myself weakly turning about on my heels on an excessively dusty road. just ahead of me the coach rolled off into the future stretches of the road, the postilion wound his horn, and the clouds of dust rose up behind the wheels. "and i was in an open place in the cool of evening. a grey-blue sky above, with the faintest glitter of first stars! i was alone. the past was a mystery; my future unexplored, full of the unimaginable; the ultimate future of course like my past. "such was my beginning--the event of my life, in the shadow of which i live and by virtue of which, though i know every road and house of the world, i yet am homeless. no happening in my being but i must view it in the light of that strange initial mystery. with the problem of that past unsolved, i have never found anything in the ordinary matters of life proposed as all-absorbing occupations. because of that, i am upon the road. i have made research, and have asked questions of all whom i have met, but i got no answer, and i tired most people with my problem. they say to me lightly, 'your coach was a dream,' and i answer, 'if so, then what before the dream? '" "we are all of us like you and your coach," i said to my companion. "some of us know it and some do not, that is all. some forget the mystery and others remember it." "_we_ remember it," said the wanderer. "because of it we are irreconcilables, but ..." he added, looking with a smile at the beautiful world about our cave, "almost reconciled; inconsolable, yet seeing how lovely is this mysterious universe, almost consoled. most men forget, but many remember; yet whether they remember or no, they are all orphans nevertheless, lost children and homeless ones. we who sing and write and who remember are the voices of humanity. we speak for millions who are voiceless." iii. irreconcilables one long sunny morning we talked of the life of the wanderer, and my companion continued his story and recounted how he had found a brotherhood of men like himself. "when first i found myself thus upon the world, i was full of hope to find an answer to the mystery. but the many fellow-beings i met upon my road were as profitless as my companions in the coach. they could not explain me, they could not explain the world or themselves, and in the midst of teeming knowledges they were obliged to confess one ignorance; among the myriad objects which they could explain they had to acknowledge a whole universe of the inexplicable. i said to them, 'what is all your knowing worth beside the terrible burden of your ignorance, and what are things that you can explain compared with those that are inexplicable?' "but i found these people proud of their little knowledges, and of the matters they could explain. they were not even startled when i called upon them to remember the great volcano of ignorance, on the slopes of which they were building their little palaces. "first i despised them, and then i loved them. but i shuddered at the thought that i, an unknown person, unknown to myself and unrecognised by a god, should love people equally unknown--a shadow loved other shadows, and like a shadow i trembled. "when i learned to love, i felt like a god--just as when the sun learned to warm, he knew that he was a sun. i became like a sun over a little world, and people who did not understand basked in my light and heat. "but one day love was lost in a cloud, as the sun is lost in a mist which it itself has raised from the earth, and i thought: 'what a fool am i, content to dwell among such people, and be as a king over _them_. all that divides me from them is that i know that i know not, and they do not even know that. for they rank their earth knowledge as something more worthy than all their ignorance. i will go forth into the world, and seek for those who are like myself, irreconcilable in front of the inexplicable.' "i sought them in towns and found them not, for the people, like foolish virgins forgetful of the bridegroom, slumbered and slept. i sought them upon deserts and mountains, and upon the wild plains, but there man was of the earth and beautiful, though not aware of his kingdom beyond the earth. but in the country places i met wise old men who kept candles burning before my shrine, and in the houses of the poor i met the body-wearied, world-defeated, and they, having lost all, found the one hope that i cherished. and in the pages of books, by converse with the dead, i found the great spiritual brotherhood. "we are many upon the world--we irreconcilables. we cry inconsolably like lost children, 'oh, ye gods, have ye forgotten us? oh, ye gods, or servants of gods, who abandoned us here, remember us!' "for perhaps we are kidnapped persons. perhaps thrones lie vacant on some stars because we are hidden away here upon the earth. i for one have a royal seal on my bosom, a mysterious mark, the sign of a royal house. ah, my brothers, we are all scions of that house. "one day i met a man who voluntarily sought death in order to penetrate the mystery of the beyond. but no sign showed itself forth to us, and we know not whether by his desperate deed he won what we have lost, or whether, perchance, he lost all that we can ever win. "the burden of my ignorance is hard to bear," he cried. the burden of our ignorance is hard to bear. thus we cry, but there comes no answer, and the eternal silence which enfolds the earth is unbroken. yet the stars still shine, promising but not fulfilling. we have become star-gazers, we irreconcilables; expecters of signs and wonders. we live upon every ridge of the world, and have made of every mountain a watch-tower; and from the towers we strain our eyes to see past the stars. for the stars are perchance but the flowers in a garden, or the lights upon the walls of a garden, and beyond them is the palace of our fathers. "and since the early days till now," said my companion, "i have wandered about the world, sometimes sojourning a while in a town, but seldom for long. for the town is not a good place." then i told him how the town had tempted me, and we compared experiences. we told of the times when we had come nigh forgetting. "just think," said i to him, "i should never have found you had i been swallowed up in the town." "and i should never have lain at your feet in the sun," he replied. "you would never have noticed me in the town." iv. "how the townsman tempted me" "once i was tempted by a townsman," said the wanderer, "but instead of converting me with his town, he was himself converted by the country. "for many years i wandered by seashores, asking questions of the sea. when i came to the sea it was singing its melancholy song, the song that it has sung from its birth, and it paused neither to hear nor to answer me. ever rolling, ever breaking, ever weeping, it continued its indifferent labour. i walked along its far-stretching sands, leaving footprints which it immediately effaced. i clambered upon its cliffs and sat looking out to sea for days, my eyes shining like lighthouse fires. but the sea revealed not itself to me. or perhaps it had no self to reveal. and i could not reveal myself to it; but the sea expressed itself to me as a picture of my mystery. "i wandered inland to placid lakes, the looking-glasses of the clouds. i threw pebbles into their waters, disturbing their pure reflections, but the disturbances passed away harmlessly into nothingness, and the lakes once more reflected the sky. "then i said to my heart, 'we must wander over all the world in search of my homeland, but chance shall not be my guide. i shall loose the reins to thee. where thou leadest i will follow.' "i followed my heart through verdant valleys up into a mountain high above a great town. and there for some while i made my abiding place. for i had learned that from a mountain i could see further than from a valley. in the towns my horizons had been all walls, but from this high mountain i looked far over the world. * * * * * "one day there came towards my mountain a townsman who tried to lure me to the city below. he was too tired to climb up to me, but from low down he called out,' you unhappy one, come down out of the height and live with us in the town. we have learnt the art of curing all sorrow. let us teach you to forget it, and live among our many little happinesses.' "and i answered him, 'it is our glory that we shall never forget.' nevertheless i was tempted and came down. "the townsman was exceedingly glad, and even before i reached the gates of his city he said to me, 'in after years you will remember me as the man who saved you.' "'how?' said i. 'am i already saved?' "'no,' he replied. 'but in the town is your salvation. you will find work to do, and you will not need to return to your mountain to pray. you will understand that work itself is prayer--_laborare est orare_. your prayer towards the sky was barren and profitless, but prayer towards the earth, _work_, will give full satisfaction to your soul.' "and i mocked him. "'what lie is this?' i said. 'how do you dare to confuse labour and prayer? learn from me, my friend, that work is work, and prayer is prayer. it is written in the old wisdom--"six parts of thy time shalt thou work for thy bread, and on the seventh thou shalt pray." _orare est orare; laborare est laborare_.' "on the outskirts of the town there were men paving the streets. 'behold how these men pray!' exclaimed my companion. 'they pave the streets; that is their prayer. they do not gaze at the stars; their eyes are ever on the earth, their home. they have forgotten that there are any stars. they are happy!' "'their souls sleep,' i answered him. "'quite so,' he replied, 'their souls sleep and thus they are happy. they had no use for their souls, therefore we purveyed them sleep, "balm of hurt minds." we gave them narcotics.' "'tell me your narcotics.' "'the gospel of progress--that is our opium; it gives deep sleep and sweet dreams. it is the most powerful of drugs. when a man takes it once he takes it again, for it tempts him with the prospect of its dreams.' "'i shall not taste of it,' said i, 'for i prize truth above all dreams. what other narcotics have you, sleep-inducing?' "my companion paused a moment, then replied: "' there are two sovereign remedies for the relief of your sorrow, a life of work, or a life of pleasure. but work needs to be done under the influence of the gospel of progress. without a belief in progress, man cannot believe that work is prayer, and that god is a taskmaster. his soul wakes up. he commits suicide or crime. or he deserts the city, and goes, as you have done, up into the mountains.' "'one narcotic helps out the other,' i hazarded. "'quite so. pleasure is the alternative remedy, a perfectly delightful substitute for your life: wine, the theatre, art, women. but as in taking laudanum, one must graduate the doses--take too much and you are poisoned--' "'wine,' i said. 'i have heard of it. it has been praised by the poets, and its service is that it makes one forget! the theatre, its comedies and farces and cunning amusements all designed to help me to forget! art with its seductions is to obsess the soul with foreign thoughts! women who languish upon one's eyes and tempt with their beauties, they also would steal away our memories. i will have none of them.' "'i spoke of women in general,' said my tempter. 'but think of one woman marvellously wrought for thee, the achiever and finisher of thy being, the answer to all thy questionings, the object of all thy yearnings. in the town thou wilt find the woman for thee, and she will bear thee children.' "'you misinterpret my needs, o friend of the town,' i said. 'i do not look to the stars to find a woman. my yearnings are not towards a woman of this earth. well do i know that you have offered me the most deadly delusion in this woman, _perfectly wrought for my being_. you have taken hold of all my inexpressible yearning and have written over it the word _woman_. and when one of us irreconcilables marries, it often happens that he forgets his loneliness and loses the sense of his mystery. his wife becomes a little house which he lives inside, and his soul is covered up and lost by her. where he used to see the eternal stars, he sees a woman, and as he understands her, he thinks he understands himself." "'but consider,' proceeded my tempter, 'the woman who is exactly the complement of yourself, a woman marvellously and uniquely fashioned to round you off and supply your deficiencies, and use your superfluities.' "'if such there be,' i replied, 'i shall not seek her in the town. i know what you mean. i ought to make a home and rear up the second generation. i ought to renounce my own future and dedicate myself to a child so that the mistakes in the old may be set right in the new. i must try to put a child on the road that i missed when i myself was a child, put it in the old coach, perhaps, with a passport in its hand. even so, that solves no problem, rather multiplies my own problem. what is deathless in man is not answered in that way. what does it profit man that mankind goes on? we cannot tell. but it is clear that we learn nothing new thereby. rather, as it seems, we forget what we have learned.' "my friend smiled and said, 'you will think differently later.' meanwhile he brought me into the heart of his town, a great city of idolaters and opium-eaters. and he took me to the gaming tables of pleasure and the gaming tables of work, and he sought to enchant me with figures and hypnotise me with the gleam of gold. he showed me how fortunes were made in roulette and in commerce, and tried to bring upon me the gambler's madness. and i smiled and said: "'behold the eyes of yonder gambler; his soul is asphyxied with gold. he pays that homage to the base gleam of a metal that i do to the light of the stars. he is an idolater.' "in the centre of the city a terrible fear troubled my soul, for it realised that it alone in all this great city of souls preserved its conscience and its wakefulness. by the glare of men's eyes it understood how all were somnambulists. we walked among millions who walked in their sleep. and in their sleep they committed terrible crimes. they looked at me with eyes that saw not; at the bidding of strange dreams they went forward secretly. "i beheld the thousand mockeries, and chief among them the mockery of our eternal mystery. instead of the church that is the dome of heaven itself they had built churches of stone. and the people, urged by their dreams, congregated themselves in these churches and were ministered unto by false priests. and dreams of truth conflicted with nightmare enacted themselves. the churches fell out among themselves, and the people fought one another. false priests stood by irresolute, their soft, shapeless lips having been smoothed away by maxims and old words. and they stood in front of idols in a semblance of defence. "i pushed many priests aside; i thrust my sword through many idols. "'come,' i said, 'your town is terrible. let me away into my mountain again. you wish me to consider this world worthy of me; you offer me its small things in exchange for my great thing. you have not even small things to offer. farewell!' "'and what is your doctrine?' he said to me at parting. as if we had a doctrine! "'for you,' i said, 'the worship of the explained; for us the remembrance of the inexplicable.'" v. his conversion "'but your religion?' said the townsman. 'you spoke of your religion. what do you mean by religion?' "'religion is to have charity: never to condemn, never to despair, never to believe that the finite can ever quite cover up the infinite, never to believe that anything is wholly explained, to see the inexplicable in all things, and to remember that words are idols and judgments are blasphemies. for words are the naming of things that are without name, and judgments are the limiting of the wonder of god. and what we call god is the inexplicable, the indefinable, the great unknown to whom in the midst of the idolatry of athens an altar was once erected.' "'as a child i learnt that god was he who made the world in six days,' said the townsman. 'god was he who delivered unto moses the ten commandments. is not this the same which you profess?' "'the same,' i answered. 'but you worship him idolatrously. you limit the wonder of god by words. you limit god's fruitfulness to six days: and you say the world is finished and made. but for us the world is never finished; every spring is a new creation, every day god adds or takes away. and you limit god's laws to ten: you limit the everlasting wisdom to ten words. words are your idols, the bricks out of which your idols and oracles are built. listen, i will tell you what i have always found in towns. i have found words worshipped as something holy in themselves. words were used to limit god, debase man. so is it in your town. once man thought words; now words are beginning to think man. once man conceived future progress; now your idol progress is beginning to conceive future man. it is the same as with money; once man made money, but now in your idolatry money makes the man. once man entered commerce that he might have more life; now he enters life that he may have more commerce. of women, the very vessels and temples of human life, you have made clerks; of priestesses unto the living god you have made vestals of the dead gold calf. you have insulted the dignity of man.' "i waited, but the townsman was silent. "'is that not so?' i urged. "'you have your point of view; we have ours. you have your religion and we ours,' said the townsman obstinately. 'and _you_ use words, do you not? you have your terminology; you have your idols, just as we have. if not, then how do you use your words?' "then i answered him: 'when i found myself upon the world i soon came under the sway of your words. progress tempted me; commerce promised me happiness. i obeyed commandments and moral precepts, and eagerly swallowed rules of life. i prostrated myself before the great high public idols, i bowed to the little household gods, and cherished dearly your little proverb-idols and maxim-idols. the advice of polonius to his son and such literature was to me the ancient wisdom. i became an idolater, and my body a temple of idolatry.' "'how then did you escape?' asked my companion. "'in this wise,' i answered. 'in my temple, as in ancient athens, in the midst of the idols was an altar to the unknown god, which altar from the first was present. that altar was to the mystery and beauty of life. "'by virtue of this altar i discovered my idolatry, and i recognised the forces of death to which i had bound myself. i broke away and escaped, and in place of all my idols i substituted my aspiring human heart, and it beat like a sacred presence in the clear temple of my being. "'then words i degraded from their fame, and trampling them under my feet, i sang triumphantly to the limitless sky.' "'but still you use words,' said the townsman, 'you irreconcilables.' "'yes. when we had degraded their fame and humbled them so that they came to us fawningly, asking to be used, we exalted them to be our servants. now we are masters over them, and not they over us. they are content to be used, if but for a moment, and then forgotten for ever. we use them to reproduce in other minds the thoughts that are in our own. woe if they ever get out of hand and become our masters again! they are our exchange metals. woe if ever again we melt down those metals and recast them as idols! "'come with me into the country,' i urged; and the townsman, as if foreseeing release from the bondage of his soul, allowed my flowing life to float him away from the haunts of his idolatry. then as we passed from under the canopy of smoke and entered into the bright outside universe, i went on: "'words are become but a small part of our language. we converse in more ways and with more people than of yore. all nature speaks to us; mountain and sea, river and plain, valley and forest; and we reveal our hearts to them, our longing, our hope, our happiness. and yet never entirely reveal. not with words only do we converse, but with pictures, with music, with scent, with ... but words cannot name the sacred nameless mediums. and man speaks to man without words; with his eyes, with his hands, with his love...." "with that we walked some way together silently till at last the townsman put his arm in mine and said: 'in my temple also is an altar with an effaced inscription, methinks to the ever-living god. by your words you have revealed it to me. let me accompany you into the beauty of the world, and interpret thou to me the mystery of its beauty.' "as if i could interpret! "'behold,' i said, 'forest and mountain, the little copse and the grass under it, and delicate little flowers among the grass. list to the lark's song in the heavens, the wind soughing in the trees, the whispering of the leaves. in the air there is a mysterious incense spread from god's censers, the very language of mystery. now you see far into the beauty of the world and hear tidings from afar. all the horizons of your senses have been extended. are you not glad for all these impressions, these pictures and songs and perfumes? every impression is a shrine, where you may kneel to god.' "'it is a beautiful world,' said he. "'it is beautiful in all its parts and beautiful every moment,' i replied. 'my soul constantly says "_yes_" to it. its beauty is the reminder of our immortal essence. the town is dangerous in that it has little beauty. it causes us to forget. it is exploring the illusion of trade, and its whole song is of trade. if you understand this, you have a criterion for life-- "'_the sacred is that which reminds us; the secular is that which bids us forget_. "'when you have impressions of sight, noise, and smell, and these impressions have no shrine where one may kneel to god, it is a sure sign that you have forgotten him, that you are dwelling in the courts of idols.' "'but it is painful to remember,' said my companion, 'and even now i have great pain. it is hard to leave the old, and painful to receive the new. my heart begins to ache for loneliness, and i long for the gaiety of the town and its diversions. i should like once more to drown my remembrances.' "i bade him have courage, for he was in the pains of birth. the old never lets out the new without pain and struggle, but when the new is born it is infinitely worthy. and my new friend was comforted. we spent many days upon the road, looking at beauty, conversing with one another, worshipping and marvelling. along the country paths flowers looked up, and beautiful suns looked out of strange skies. often it seemed we had been together upon the same road a thousand years before. was it a remembrance of the time before my entering into the coach? the flowers by the roadside tried to whisper a word of the answer to my question. it seemed that we were surrounded by mysteries just about to reveal themselves. or, anon, it seemed as if we had missed our chance, as if an unseen procession had just filed by and we had not distinguished it. "my friend was leaving behind all his idols. we sat upon a ridge together, and looked back upon the valley and the city which we had left. there was what my soul abhorred, and what i feared his soul might be too weak to face--the kaleidoscope of mean colours turning in the city, tickling our senses, striving to bind our souls and to mesmerise. some colours would have drawn our tears, some would have persuaded smiles over our lips. combinations of colours, groupings, subtle movements and shapings sought to interest and absorb our intellects. "'behold,' said i. 'in the city which calls itself the world, the townsmen are casting up dice! is it possible we shall be stricken with woe, or immensely uplifted in joy because of the falling of a die? oh world too sordid to be opposed to us! oh world too poor to be used by us! is not the world's place under our feet, for it is of earth and we of spirit?' "but my friend was not with me. he wavered as if intoxicated, and wished to return to the city. 'oh glorious world,' said he, and sighed himself towards the gates we had left. "then seeing the brightness of my face, which just then reflected a great brightness in the sky, and remembering that his pain was only a bridge into the new, he gained possession of himself and turned his eyes away from the town. "'more than my old self and its weak flesh do i value the new young life that is to be,' said he. 'though i am a man and a creature of pleasure, i am become as a woman that bears children. for the time is coming when i shall give birth to one younger than myself, later than myself....' "'your old self will reappear more beautiful, new-souled, transfigured,' i replied. "then my companion looked at me with eyes that were full both of yearning and of pain, and he said, 'though i would fain stay with you, yet must i go apart. for i have one battle yet to fight, and that i can only fight alone. farewell, dear friend, husband of the woman that is in me!' "then said i farewell and we embraced and parted, for i saw that it was meet for him to commune alone with god and gain strength to win his victory. "the town lay in the west; he went into the north and i into the east. once more i was alone." "come, let us devise new means of happiness," said my companion. "let us wander up-stream to the silent cradle of the river. for all day long i hear the river calling my name." and we journeyed a three days' tramp into the mountains, following the silver river upward and upward to the pure fountain of its birth. and on the way, moved by the glow of intercourse, i told my companion the story of zenobia, and also that of the old pilgrim whom i met at new athos. it was strange to us that the peasants in the country should live and die so much more worthily than the educated folk who live in the towns. god made the country, man made the town, and the devil made the country town, was not for us an idle platitude but a burning fact, though we agreed that man was often a much more evil creator than the devil, and that the great capitals of europe and america were the worst places for man's heavenly spirit that time had ever known. imagine our three days' journeying, the joy of the lonely one who has found a companion, the sharing of happiness that is doubling it; the beauty to live in, the little daintinesses and prettinesses of nature to point out; the morning, sun-decked and dewy, the wide happiness of noon, the shadows of the great rocks where we rested, and the flash of the green and silver river tumbling outside in the sunshine; quiescent evening and the old age of the day, sunset and the remembrance of the day's glory, the pathos of looking back to the golden morning. the first night we made our bed where the plover has her nest, in a grassy hollow on the shelf of a mountain. "the day is done," said my companion. "a little space of time has died. now see the vision of the eternal, which comes after death;" and he pointed to the night sky, in which one by one little lamps were lighting. the bright world passed away, faded away in my eyes and became at last a dark night sky in which shone countless stars. during the day, my soul expressed itself to itself in the beauty which is for an hour, but at night it re-expressed itself in terms of the infinite. i looked to my companion, and his eyes and lips shone in the darkness so that he seemed dressed in cloth cut from the night sky itself, and interwoven with stars. we lay together and looked up into the far high sky, we breathed lightly: it seemed we exhaled the scent of flowers that we had inbreathed in the morning--we slept. and then the morning! the quiet, quiet hours, the flitting of moths in the dawn twilight, the mysterious business of mice among the stones about us, the cold fleeting air just before sunrise, full of ghosts, our own awakening and the majestic sunrise, the exaggeration of all shapes, the birth of shadows, the beaming heralds, glorious rose-red summits and effulgent silvered crags, ten thousand trumpets raised to the zenith, and ten thousand promises outspoken! we arose, my companion and i--he only seemed to come to life when the first beam touched me. i greeted the sun with my voice, and turning round, there at my feet was my friend, familiar, dear, so ready for living that one would have said the sun himself was his father. "i was dead," said he, "and behold i am alive again. the world passed away, and behold, at the voice of a trumpet, it hath come back. beauty faded yestreen from colour into darkness, from life to death, and to-day it hath out-blossomed once again; the sun was its father, dear gentle night its mother...." and running with me, he clambered upon a rock and outstretched his arms to the sun as if he were a woman looking to a strong man. "greater is the glory of sunrise than the glory of sunset, for the sunrise promises what shall be, whereas the sunset only tells the glory of the past. the sunrise promises beautiful days, the sunset looks back upon beauty as if there were nothing in the future to compare with what has just departed." thus sang my friend, and we scampered along to the newly wakened river. cold and fresh was the water, as if it also had slept in the night. it was full of the night, but the morning which was in us strove with it, and at a stroke conquered it. the sun laughed to see us playing in the water, and we greeted him with handfuls of sparkles. the river was lusty and strong; it wrestled with us, grasped, pushed, pulled, buffeted, threw stones, charged forward in waves, laboriously rolled boulders against us.... we made our morning fire; its blue smoke rose slowly and crookedly, and the brittle wood burning crackled like little dogs barking; the kettle hissed on the hot, black stones where we had balanced it over the fire, it puffed, it growled, blew out its steam and boiled, boiled over; tea, bread and cheese, bright yellow plums from a tree hard by, and then away once more we sped on our journey, not walking, but running, scarcely running but flying, leaping, clambering ... and my companion performed the most astonishing feats, for he was ever more lively than i was. the sun strengthened. first it had empowered us to go forward, but after some hours it bid us rest. seven o'clock ran to eight, eight to nine; nine to ten was hot, ten was scorching, and by eleven we were conquered. we rested and let the glorious husband of the earth look down upon us, and into us. "how pathetic it is that men are even now at this moment sweating, and grinding, and cursing in a town," said my companion to me. he was lying outstretched before me on a slope of the sheep-cropped downs. "they altogether miss life, life, the inestimable boon. and they get nothing in return. even what they hope to gain is but dust and ashes. they waited perhaps a whole eternity to be born, and when they die it may be that for a whole eternity they must wait again. god allotted them each year eighty days of summer and eighty summers in their lives, and they are content to sell them for a small price, content to earn wages.... and their share in all this beauty, they hardly know of it, their share in the sun. "have you not realised that we have more than our share of the sun? the sun is fuller and more glorious than we could have expected. that is because millions of people have lived without taking their share. we feel in ourselves all _their_ need of it, all their want of it. that is why we are ready to take to ourselves such immense quantities of it. we can rob no one, but, on the contrary, we can save a little to give to those who have none--when we meet them. you must pull down the very sun from heaven and put it in your writings. you must give samples of the sun to all those who live in towns. perhaps some of those attracted by the samples will give up the smoke and grind of cities and live in this superfluity of sunshine." then i said to my joyous comrade: "many live their lives of toil and gloom and ugliness in the belief that in another life after this they will be rewarded. they think that god wills them to live this life of work." "then perhaps in the next life they will again live in toil and gloom, postponing their happiness once more," said my companion. "or on the day of judgment they will line up before god and say with a melancholy countenance, 'oh lord we want our wages for having lived!' ... an insult to god and to our glorious life, but how terrible, how unutterably sad! and the reply of the angel sadder still, 'did you not know that life itself was a reward, a glory?'" v the unconquerable hope once, long ago, when an earthquake rent the hills, and mountains became valleys, and the earth itself opened and divided, letting in the sea, a new island was formed far away upon an unvisited ocean. out of an inland province of a vast continent this island was made, all the land upon it having been submerged, and all the peoples that dwelt to north and to south, to east and to west, having been drowned. there survived upon the island a few men and women who remained undisputed masters of the land, and they lived there and bred there. no one visited them, for the island was remote, unknown; and they visited no one, for they had never seen the sea before, they had not even known of its existence, and they did not know how to fashion a boat. the island became fertile, and men and women married, and bore sons and daughters. the people in the island multiplied and grew rich. but all the while they lived without the invention of the boat, and they thought their island was the whole world, not knowing of the other lands that lay beyond the sea. the original people died in their time, and their sons and daughters and grandsons and granddaughters, and the newer, later, survived and gave birth to newer and later still. and the story of the origin of the island was handed down from generation to generation. the story was a matter of fact. it became history, it became legend and tradition, it became a myth, it became almost the foundation of religion. for a thousand years a lost family of mankind dwelt on that island on the unvisited sea, and none of their kindred ever came out of its barren sea-horizons to claim them. and then, lest these children of men should utterly forget, a child was born who should understand. as happens once in many centuries, a wise man arose, and he interpreted the legends and traditions, and refreshed in the memory of this people the significance of their origin. he taught them the mystery of the sea, and of the beyond, that hitherto unimaginable beyond, so that men yearned to cross the ocean. then the ignorant rose up and slew that man, thinking him an evil one, luring men to their death. and those who had understood him sorrowed greatly. his life had been pure, white, without reproach, and the light that shone in his eyes was the same that burned in the stars. but though the ignorant could destroy his body, they could not destroy the fair life that he had lived, that wonderful example of how men may stand in the presence of the eternal mysteries. there arose followers who dedicated themselves to the truth he had revealed, that truth boundless and infinite as the sea itself. and they lit a fire like the sacred fire in the temples of the fire-worshippers, and that fire should never be extinguished until some sign rose out of the horizon, illumining and dissolving the mystery. "who knows," they say, "but that we are the descendants of kings? there is that in us that is foreign to this land, something not indigenous to this soil, of which this island is not worthy. it cometh from afar and had elsewhere its begetting. in us are latent unnamed powers, senses that in this island cannot be used. our eyes are unnecessarily bright, our hearts superfluously strong. this earth cannot satisfy us, it cannot afford scope enough, we cannot try ourselves upon it. this is the hope that we keep holy, that out of the heavens or across the sea our kindred, our masters, or our gods will claim us and take us to a new land where our hearts' meaning may completely show itself outwardly to the sky; where our latent senses will find the things that can be sensed, and our faculties that which can be made, where our hearts and wills may be satisfied, and we may find wings with which to soar over all seas." behold these dedicates, with their torch of remembrance kindled in the night of ignorance, these living eternally in the presence of the mystery! they pine upon shores, looking over the unbridgeable abyss, yearning their souls towards that ultimate horizon, with limbs vainly strong, eyes vainly keen, hearts ready for an adventure they may not undertake. at their feet wails the sea with never-ending sadness. in their minds are haunting tunes, the echoes of the wailing of the waves. they cry, and no one hears; they sing, and no one responds; they are like those who have loved once and lost, and who may never be comforted. these nurse in their hearts the unconquerable hope. * * * * * so is it with us upon the world, we irreconcilable ones; we stand upon many shores and strain our eyes to see into the unknown. we are upon a deserted island and have no boats to take us from star to star, not only upon a deserted island but upon a deserted universe, for even the stars are familiar; they are worlds not unlike our own. the whole universe is our world and it is all explained by the scientists, or is explicable. but beyond the universe, no scientist, not any of us, knows anything. on all shores of the universe washes the ocean of ignorance, the ocean of the inexplicable. we stand upon the confines of an explored world and gaze at many blank horizons. we yearn towards our natural home, the kingdom in which our spirits were begotten. we have rifled the world, and tumbled it upside-down, and run our fingers through all its treasures, yet have not come upon the charter of our birth. we explored beauty till we came to the shore of a great sea; we explored music, and came upon the outward shore of harmony and earthly truth, and found its limits. some spoke of our limitations, but it is our glory that our hearts know no limitations except those which are the defects of the world. the world is full of limitations, but our hearts scorn them, being full of boundless power. some day for us shall come into that blank sky-horizon which is called the zenith, a stranger, a man or a god, perhaps not like ourselves, yet having affinities with ourselves, and correlating ourselves to some family of men or gods of which we are all lost children. we shall then know our universal function and find our universal orbit. as yet the true sun stands in the antipodes, the great light is not vouchsafed. in the night of ignorance our little sun is shining and stars gleam upon our sky-horizons. but when the true sun shines their brightness will be obscured, and we shall know a new day and a new night, a new heaven and a new earth. it is written, "when he appears we shall be like him." vi the pilgrimage to jerusalem i once, possibly, upon the world, man did not know of god; he had not looked to the blank horizon and spoken to the someone beyond. he had all the need to speak, all the oppression in his soul, all the sorrow and longing pent up in him and the tears unshed, but knew no means of relief, did not even conceive of any one beyond himself. he had no great father, as we have. a strange, unhappy life he lived upon the world, uncomforted, unfriended. he looked at the stars and comprehended them not; and at the graves, and they said nought. he walked alone under heaven's wide hollowness. we of later days have god as a heritage, or if we did find him of ourselves, the road was made easy for us. but some one far away back in human life found god first, and said to him the first prayer; some hard, untutored savage found out the gentlest and loveliest fact in our religion. a savage came upon the pearl and understood it and fell down in joy. a man one day named god and emptied his heart to him in prayer. and he told the discovery to his brothers, and men all began to pray. the world lost half its heaviness at once. men learned that their prayers were nearly all the same, that god heard the same story from thousands and hundreds of thousands of hearts. thus men came nearer to one another, and knew themselves one in the presence of god, and they prayed together and formed churches. man, the homeless one, had advanced a step towards his home, for he began to live partly in the beyond. i am reminded of this by the joy which accompanies the personal discovery of some new rite which brings us into relation with the unseen. following that hypothetical first man, how many real first men there have been, each discovering new things about god and the beyond, giving mankind new letters in the sanscrit, and each discovery accompanied by joy and relief. the conception of life as part of a journey to the heavenly city was, i think, one of these discoveries; and its rite was the church procession to the altar. in symbolic act man learned to make the journey beyond the blank horizon. he enlarged the church procession to the pilgrimage to jerusalem, and he enlarged the pilgrimage to jerusalem to the pilgrimage of life itself. in the understanding of life as a pilgrimage, the wanderer and seeker has the world for his church. we are all on the road to the city of jerusalem. those who are consciously on the road may call themselves pilgrims; they have a life of glory in the heart as well as of toiling by the way. they are in a certain definite perspective, and they see all things that happen to them in the light of the pilgrimage. i for my part, directly i definitely set out for jerusalem, on the very first day, at the sight of the first stranger who crossed my path, exclaimed to myself, "i meet him on the way to jerusalem; that makes a difference, does it not?" but not only does the goal of the pilgrimage lend a new significance to the present and the future; it also lights up the past. it makes every idlest step of worth. it makes us so understanding of the past that we would not alter one jot or tittle in it. our whole life is transfigured. every deed of our hands, every thought of our minds and word of our lips, every deed of others or of nature seen, every word of man or sound of nature heard, is made into one glowing garment--the story of our life-pilgrimage _via_ the present moment to the heavenly city. i started on my pilgrimage long ago, so long ago i can hardly tell when. as jeremy the pilgrim said of mikhail: "he wished to go when he was a little boy; that means, he began to go then, for whenever you begin to wish you begin the pilgrimage. after that, no matter where you are, you are sure to be on the way." it is a stage in the awakening of consciousness, that wishing to go; the next stage is intending to go, and the next, deciding to go and setting out--but independently of these wishes and intentions and decisions, we were really on the road, and going all the while. by our true wishes we divine our destiny. yes, even long ago i wished, and to-day i am still on the way, though i have actually pilgrimaged to jerusalem in palestine. my pilgrimage was a pilgrimage within a pilgrimage. it was the drawing of a picture on earth of a journey in heaven. as a day is to a year, and as a year to man's life, so is man's life to that which we do not know, the course of our life beyond time's blank horizon. if i have often stopped to tell of a little day, or a little hour in the day, it is because i sought there a picture of eternity, of the whole significance of the pilgrimage. i suppose i did not know that when i first left england to go to russia i was turning my face toward jerusalem. yet it was so. for i should never have gone direct from london to the holy land. if i had attempted such a journey i should probably have failed to reach the great shrine, for it is only a certain sort of people travelling in a certain sort of way who find admittance easily. by the russian peasant i was enabled to go. it is strange to think that even when i was journeying northward to archangel i was winding my way jerusalem-ward in the sacred labyrinth. and i could not have gone straight southward with the pilgrims without wandering in contrary directions first of all, for it was necessary to come into sympathy and union with the peasant soul. there is a peasant deep down in my soul, or a peasant soul deep down in me, as well as an exterior, sensitive, cultured soul. i had to discover that peasant, to realise myself as one of the poor in spirit to whom is the kingdom. christ preached his gospel to the peasant. his is a peasant's gospel, it seems to me, such a gospel as the peasants of russia would take to themselves to-day if jesus came preaching to them in the way he did to the common _people_ of the jews. the cultured would disdain it, until a new st. paul interpreted it for them in terms that they could understand, so giving it a "vogue". both the peasants and the cultured would be christians, but with this difference, that in one case the seed would be growing on the surface, and in the other from the depths. the peasant, of course, has no _surface_; he is the good black earth all ready for the seed. there is a way for the cultured: it is to discover the peasant down beneath their culture, the original elemental soil down under the artificial surface, and to allow the sweetness and richness of that soil to give expression on that surface. true culture is thus achieved; that which is not only on the surface but of the depths. thereby might every one discover not only the peasant but the pilgrim soul within; each man living on the world might realise himself as on the way to jerusalem. such realisation would be the redemption of the present culture of the west. for workers of every kind--not only artists, musicians, novelists, but the handicraftsmen, the shapers of useful things, of churches and houses and laws, even the labourers in the road and the garden--would be living in the strength of a promise and the light of a vision. * * * * * the pilgrimage was a carrying of the cross, but it was also a happy wayfaring. it was a hard journey but not comfortless. many of the pilgrims walked thousands of miles in russia before finally embarking on the pilgrim boat. they walked solitarily, not in great bands, and they were poor. from village to village, from the far north, central russia and the east, they tramped their way to odessa and batoum, and they depended all the way on other men's hospitality. as jeremy said, "they had no money: instead of which they found other men's charity." they lived night by night in hundreds of peasant homes, and prayed day by day in hundreds of little churches. not only did they find their daily bread "for the love of god," but in many cases they were furnished even to jerusalem itself with passage money for the boat journey, and bread to keep the body alive. such pilgrims often were illiterate, and it was astonishing how they remembered all the folk they had to pray for at jerusalem; for every poor peasant who could not leave his native village, but gave threepence or four-pence to the wanderer, asked to be remembered in the land "where god walked". perhaps there were aids to remembrance. many people in the villages, wanting to be sure that their prayers and wants would be remembered, wrote their names on slips of paper and thrust them into the pilgrim's hand. thus in the hostelry at jerusalem an old wanderer came to me one morning with a sheaf of dirty papers on which were written names, and i read them out for him aloud, thus:-- maria for health. katerina for health. rheumatic gregory for health. ivan for the peace of soul of his mother. for the peace of soul of prascovia. and so on; and i sorted them into separate bundles--those who wished prayers for health, and those who wanted peace of soul to the dead. i, for my part, have walked many a thousand versts from village to village, and have been glad to live the peasant-pilgrim's life. tramping was hard for me also, as also far from comfortless. i saw sights which amply repaid me, if i wanted repayment, for every verst i tramped. often, and shamefully, have i looked back and sighed for the town that i had left--its friends, its comforts and its pleasures; but i also found other men's hospitality and the warmth of the stranger's love. very sweet it was to sit in the strange man's home, to play with his children on the floor, to eat and drink with him, to be blessed by him and by his wife, and sleep at last under the cottage ikons. and though peasants knew the way was hard, "how fortunate you are!" they said. i was more fortunate than they knew, for, being the voice of those who were without voice, i had a life by the way in communion with every common sight and sound. i lived in communion with sunny and rainy days, with the form of mountain and valley, with the cornfield and the forest and the meadow. not only was man hospitable to the tramp, but nature also. the stars spoke of my pilgrimage, the sea murmured to me; wild fruit was my food. i slept with the bare world as my house, the sky as my roof, and god as host. i saw strange happenings in obscure little villages. wherever i went i saw little pictures, and not only great pageants; i knelt in little wooden churches as well as in the great cathedrals. and i brought all that i met and all that i had experienced to jerusalem, so that when the chorus of thanksgiving went up in the monastery on the day when we arrived, all my world was singing in it. sometimes i met pilgrims, especially at monasteries, and sometimes sojourned with one along the road, but it was not until we reached the pilgrim-boat that we found ourselves many and together. for the greater part of the pilgrim life is necessarily in solitude. a great number of pilgrims starting together and marching along the road is almost unthinkable. the true desire to start takes one by oneself. the pilgrim life is born like a river, far away apart, up in the mountains. it is only when it is reaching its goal that it joins itself to others. when we reached the port of embarkation we were a great band of pilgrims, but the paths by which we had come together were many and diverse, ramifying all over russia. we thought, but for the haunting fear of storms, that when we reached the boat the arduous part of our journey would have been accomplished. we should cease our plodding over earth, and should rest on the sea in the sun. we would sing hymns together. hymns are, of course, principally designed for pilgrims, for man as a pilgrim, who needs to console himself with music on the road. we would talk among ourselves of our life on the way; the days would go past in pleasant converse and the nights in happy slumber. but that was a mistake. the sea journey was worse than any of our tramping; it was the very crown of our suffering. there were of us packed into the holds of that hulk, the _lazarus_, on which we sailed, and there were besides, many turks, arabs, and syrians; of cattle, two score cows and a show bull with two mouths; of beasts, a cage of apes; and, as if to complete pandemonium in storm, there lay bound in his bed on the open deck a raving madman. we were a fortnight on the sea, wandering irrelevantly from port to port of the levant, discharging a cargo of sugar; and all the while the poor beggar-pilgrims lived on the crusts of which they had sackfuls collected in russia, crusts of black bread all gone green with mould. i looked at the piles of them heaped on the deck to air in pleasant weather, and was amazed that men could live simply on decay. we had two storms, in one of which our masts were broken down and we were told we should go to the bottom. the peasants rolled over one another in the hold like corpses, and clutched at one another like madmen. in despair some offered all their money, all that they had, to a priest as a votive offering to st. nicholas, that the storm might abate. the state of the ship i should not dare to depict--the filth, the stench, the vermin. for nearly a thousand passengers there were three lavatories without bolts! fitly was the boat named _lazarus_--lazarus all sores. what the poor simple peasant men and women suffered none can tell. they had not the thought to take care of themselves as i had, and indeed they would have scorned to save themselves. "it is necessary to suffer," they said. it was a hard and terrible way, and yet on the last day of the voyage, in the sight of the holy land, our hearts all leapt within us with grateful joy. we felt it was worth it, every whit. when i think of this journey as of that of christian in the _pilgrims progress_, i call this ship and the journey on it the valley of the shadow of death, full of foul pits and hobgoblins; something which must be passed through if jerusalem is to be attained; the dread gulf which lies between earthly and heavenly life. it was necessary to pass through it, and what was on the other side was infinitely worth the struggle. there is a story in dostoievsky of a russian free-thinker whose penance beyond this world was to walk a quadrillion versts. when he finished this walk and saw the heavenly city at the end of it he fell down and cried out, "it is worth it, every inch; not only would i walk a quadrillion of versts, but a quadrillion of quadrillions raised to the quadrillionth power." ii at last we arrived at jerusalem. the onlookers saw a long, jaded-looking flock of poor people toiling up the hilly road from jaffa, wearing russian winter garb under the straight-beating sun of the desert, dusty, road-worn, and beaten. we went along the middle of the roadway like a procession, observed of all observers; in one sense scarcely worth looking at, yet in another the most significant spectacle of the day or of the time. we were--religious europe just arrived at the heavenly city. certainly it would have been difficult to know the happiness and exaltation of our hearts; perhaps to do that it would have been necessary to step into line and follow us to the cathedral and the sepulchre; perhaps even necessary to anticipate our coming, and join us long before, on the way in russia. but we went forward unconscious of our own significance, indifferent to the gaze of the curious. there was one thought in our minds: that we had actually attained unto jerusalem and were walking the last few miles to the holy of holies. we passed in through the gate of the russian settlement, and in a moment were at the monastery doors. how gladly we threw off our packs on the green grass sward and hurried into church to the thanksgiving service, buying sheaves of little candles at the door and pressing in to light them before the sacred ikons. when the priest was given the great bible to read, it lay on the bare heads of pilgrims; so close did the eager ones press together to share in the bearing that the holy book needed no other support. we sang the _mnogia lieta_ with a deep harmonious chorus; we prostrated ourselves and prayed and crossed. i stood in the midst and sang or knelt with the rest, timid as a novice, made gentle by the time, and i learned to cross myself in a new way. one by one the peasants advanced and kissed the gold cross in the hands of the priest, and among them i went up and was blessed as they were. and we were all in rapture. standing at the threshold afterwards, smiling peasants with wet shining eyes confessed to one another their unworthiness and their happiness; and a girl all in laughing tears fell down at our feet, kissing our dusty boots, and asking our forgiveness that she had been permitted to see jerusalem. we were taken to the refectory and seated at many tables to a peasant dinner: cabbage soup and porridge, bread and _kvass_, just as they are served in russia itself. we passed to the hostelry and were given, at the rate of three farthings a day, beds and benches that we might occupy as long as we wished to stay in jerusalem. the first night we were all to get as rested as possible, the next we were to spend in the sepulchre itself. i slept in a room with four hundred peasants, on a wooden shelf covered with old pallets of straw. the shelves were hard and dirty; there was no relaxation of our involuntary asceticism, but we slept well. there was music in our ears. we had attained to jerusalem, and our dreams were with the angels. jerusalem the earthly had not forced itself upon our minds; we held the symbolism of the journey lightly, and the mind read a mystery in delicate emotions. the time was to come when some of us would be discontented with jerusalem, as some of the disciples who fell away were discontented with the poor and humble jesus; but as yet even to these all the material outward appearance of jerusalem was a rumour. we knew not what we should see when we stepped out on the morrow; perhaps pearly gates, streets of gold, angels with harps. jerusalem the earthly was unproved. we had as yet only toiled up the steep jaffa way, and the road to heaven itself might be not unlike that road. to-morrow ... who could say what to-morrow would unfold? for those of us who could see with the eyes of the heart there could be no disappointment. but for all, this night of golden dreams was a respite, and jerusalem the symbol and jerusalem the symbolised were one. happy, happy pilgrims! next day we went to the strange and ugly church erected over the sepulchre of jesus, the "church of the life-giving grave"; and we kissed the stone of anointing--the stone on which the body of jesus lay whilst it was being wrapped in fair linen and anointed with oil. we knelt before the ark-like inner temple which is built over _the hollow in the rock_. we were received into that temple, and one by one crept along the passage-way to the holy of holies, the inmost shrine of christendom. only music could tell what the peasant realised in that chamber as he knelt where the sacred body lay, and kissed the hollow in the stone. then we spent a whole night in the sepulchre and entered into the mystery of death--saw our own death as in a picture before us, our abiding in the grave until the resurrection. in the great dark church the solemn service went forward. on the throne of the altar at golgotha near by, the candles gleamed. night grew quiet all around, and the syrian stars looked over us, so that centuries and ages passed away. iii we went through the life of jesus in symbolical procession, journeyed to bethlehem and kissed the manger where the baby jesus was laid, that first cradle as opposed to the second, the hollow in the rock. we came as the kings, saw the shepherds and their flocks, saw the star stop over the house of mary, and went in to do homage, bringing thither the gifts of our hearts--gold, frankincense, and myrrh. we tramped to the river jordan, and all in our death shrouds at bethabara, waded into the stream and were baptized. in symbolic act the priest baptizing us was veritably john, but in second symbolism it was jesus. as we stepped down into the water it was john, but when we stepped up again it was jesus receiving us into light. we made a picture of the past, but we had also in our hearts a presentment of the far future. as we stood there on the banks all in our white robes it seemed like a rehearsal of the final resurrection morning. these shrouds in which the pilgrims are baptized they preserve to their death day, in order that they may be buried in them. they believe that on the last day not only will their bodies of this day be raised up, but the jordan-washed garments will be restored as well. we followed the course of the river down to the dead sea, the lowest place on earth, and thence walked across the wilderness to the mountain of temptation, where in innumerable caves had lived thousands of hermits and saints. in a great caravan we journeyed to the lake of galilee, where the twelve were called. we camped upon the mountain where the five thousand had been fed, and scattered bread there. we dwelt in the little town of nazareth and saw the well where mary had drawn water. we heard of all the dearnesses which the priests and monks had imagined as likely in the boyhood of jesus. we stood and wondered at the place where mary and joseph are supposed to have stopped and missed their twelve-year-old son who had gone to the temple to teach. we stood where jesus had conversed with the woman of samaria. we visited the cottage where the water was changed into wine. at bethany we prayed at lazarus' grave. we lived with the life of jesus as the story has been told. it was a second pilgrimage, an underlining of the essentials of the first. we finished the first pilgrimage at the church of the tomb on the day after our arrival in jerusalem; we should finish the second on the last day of holy week, at the triumphant easter morning. on the friday before palm sunday we went out to bethany and slept in the monastery which is built "where martha served." next day we returned to jerusalem with olive branches, palms and wild flowers, scattering blossoms as we walked. on saturday evening and in the morning of palm sunday we filled the churches with our branches. two aged pilgrims who had died were buried on palm sunday. they lay in open coffins in church dressed in the shrouds they had worn at jordan, covered with olive branches and little blue wild flowers (jacob's ladder), which the pilgrims had picked for them at bethany. on their faces was perfect peace. the pilgrims thought them happy to die in the holy land and be buried there. the crown of the pilgrimage was holy week. by palm sunday all the pilgrims were back in jerusalem from their little pilgrimages to nazareth, jericho, and jordan. the hostelries were crowded. fully five hundred men and women slept in the hall in which i was accommodated. all night long the sound of prayer and hymn never died away. at dawn each day a beggar pilgrim sanctified our benches with incense which he burned in an old tin can. by day we visited the shrines of jerusalem, the virgin's tomb, the mount of olives, the praetorium, pilate's house, the dungeon where jesus was put in the stocks. we saw the washing of the feet on holy thursday; we walked down the steep and narrow way where christ carried the cross and stumbled, kissed the place where saint veronica held out the cloth which took the miraculous likeness. we examined our souls before good friday; we went to the special yearly holy communion now invested with a strange and awful solemnity. there was the prostration before the cross at golgotha on good friday, the receiving of the sacred fire, symbol of the resurrection, on holy saturday, and then the night of the year and the great morning. it seemed when we all kissed one another on easter morning that we had outlived everything--our own life, our own death; we were in heaven. in symbolic act we had attained unto bliss. the procession had marched round the church to the supreme emotional moment. we had all stood on the highest holy place on earth and looked out for a moment upon paradise. we had caught the gleam of the sun of another universe. what happens in the pilgrim's soul on easter night is something which you and i and all of us know; if not in our own minds and in the domain of letters and words, at least in the heart where music speaks. to those who have not themselves attained unto jerusalem and the "highest of all earthly" it is a promise, and to those who have been it is a memory and a possession. the greek monks say that at the sepulchre a fire bursts out of its own account each easter eve, and there is at least a truth of symbolism in their miracle. an old bishop and saint was once asked to give sight to a blind woman. he had performed no miracles in his life, yet he promised to pray for her. and whilst he knelt in church praying, the candles which were unlit burst of themselves into flame. the woman at that moment also received her sight and went home praising god. it is something like that which happens when the pilgrim kneels on easter night. candles unlit in the temple of his soul burst into flame, and by their light new pictures are seen. the part of him that was blind and craved sight gains open eyes at that moment, and that which seemed impossible is accomplished. iv and i, to use the metaphor of the unvisited island, had in a dream crossed the ocean, had become, through the fulfilling of a rite, more bound to the life which is beyond. henceforth i have a more credible promise and a more substantial hope. but what then? the journey is ended, the gleam of the vision fades, and we all return to the life we came from. we descend from what the pilgrims call the highest holy place on earth and get back to the ordinary level of life. how can we go back and live the dull round again? shall we not be as lazarus is depicted in browning's story of him, spoiled for earth, having seen heaven? the russian at home calls the returned pilgrim _polu-svatoe_, a half-saint: does that perhaps mean that life is spoilt for him? some hundreds of aged pilgrims die every year in lent; they fall dead on the long tramps in galilee on the way to nazareth. many pass peacefully away in jerusalem itself without even seeing easter there. they are accounted happy. to be buried at jerusalem is considered an especially sweet thing, and it is indeed very good for these aged ones that the symbol and that which it symbolised should coincide, and that for them the journey to jerusalem the earthly should be so obviously and materially a big step towards jerusalem the golden. it would have been sad in a way for such old folk to return once more across the ocean to the old, somewhat irrelevant life of mother russia. but what of the young who must of necessity go back? once easter was over it was marvellous how eager we were to get on the first boat and go home again. what were we going to do when we got there, seeing that we had been to jerusalem? we carry our vision back into daily life, or rather, we carry the memory of it in our hearts until a day of fulfilment. all true visions are promises, and that which we had was but a glimpse of a jerusalem we shall one day live in altogether. the peasants took many pictures of the sacred places of jerusalem, and jerusalem ikons, back with them to their little houses in russia, there to put them in the east corners of their rooms. they will henceforth light lamps and candles before these pictures. the candle before the picture is, as we know, man's life being lived in front of the vision of jerusalem; man's ordinary daily life in the presence of the heavenly city. we realise life itself as the pilgrimage of pilgrimages. life contains many pilgrimages to jerusalem, just as it contains many flowerings of spring to summer, just as it contains many feasts of communion and not merely one. some of the pilgrims actually go as many as ten times to that jerusalem in palestine. but there are jerusalems in other places if they only knew, and pilgrimages in other modes. it is possible to go back and live the pilgrimage in another way, and to find another jerusalem. life has its depths: we will go down into them. we may forget the vision there, but as a true pilgrim once said, "we shall always live again to see our golden hour of victory." that is the true pilgrim's faith. he will reach jerusalem again and again. he may forget, but he will always remember again; he will always rise again to the light of memory. deep in the depths of this dark universe our little daily sun is shining, but up above there is another sun. at times throughout our life we rise to the surface, and for a minute catch a glimpse of that sun's light: at each of these times we shall have attained unto jerusalem and have completed a pilgrimage within the pilgrimage. there is light on the faces of those living heroically: it is the light of the vision of jerusalem. vii the message from the hermit the question remains, "who is the tramp?" who is the walking person seen from the vantage ground of these pages? he is necessarily a masked figure; he wears the disguise of one who has escaped, and also of one who is a conspirator. he is not the dilettante literary person gone tramping, nor the pauper vagabond who writes sonnets, though either of these rôles may be part of his disguise. he is not merely something negligible or accidental or ornamental, he is something real and true, the product of his time, at once a phenomenon and a portent. he is the walking hermit, the world-forsaker, but he is above all things a rebel and a prophet, and he stands in very distinct relation to the life of his time. the great fact of the human world to-day is the tremendous commercial machine which is grinding out at a marvellous acceleration the smaller and meaner sort of man, the middle class, the average man, "the damned, compact, liberal majority," to use the words of ibsen, and the world daily becomes "more _chinese_". the rocks are fraying one another down to desert sand, and mankind becomes a new sahara. but over and against the commercial machine stand the rebels, the defiers of it, those who wish to limit its power, to redeem some of the slaves, and to rebuild the temples which it has broken down. commercialism is at present the great enemy of the individual man. one already reads in leading articles such phrases as "our commercial, national, and imperial welfare"--commercial first, national second, imperial third, and spiritual nowhere. commercialism has already subdued the church of christ in western europe, it has disorganised the forces of art, and it tends to deny the living sources of religion, art, and life. it remains for the rebel to assert that even though the name and idea of christianity be sold--as was its founder--for silver, though it be rendered an impotent and useless word, yet there is in mankind a religion which is independent of all names and all words, a spring of living water that may be subterraneanised for a while, but can never be altogether dammed and stopped; that there is an art which shall blossom through all ages, either in the secret places of the world or in the open, in the place of honour, as long as man lives upon the world. and he does more than assert, than merely wind upon his horn outside the gates of the enchanted city, he is a builder, collector, saver. he wishes to find the few who, in this fearful commercial submersion, ought to be living the spiritual life, and showing forth in blossom the highest significance of the adam tree. he himself lives the life which more must of necessity live, if only as a matter of salt to save the body politic. it has been urged, "you are unpracticable; you want a world of tramps--how are you going to live?" but we no more want a world of tramps than the promiser of new life wants a world of promisers: we want a world that will take the life promised. as i have said, we want first of all the few, the hermits, saints, the altogether lovely men and women, the blossoming of the race. it is necessary that these be found or that they find themselves, and that they take their true orbits and live their true lives; for all the rest of ordinary humanity is waiting to live its life in relation to these. the few must live their lives out to the full in order that all others may live their lives completely; for the temple of humanity has not only the broad floor, but the cross glittering above the pinnacle. the night is dark, but there is plenty of hope for the future; the very extremity of our calamity is something that bids us hope. fifty years ago nobody would listen to a gospel of rebellion, and such a great man as carlyle was actually preaching that to labour is to pray. to-day men are ready to lay down their working tools and listen to any insurrectionist, so aware has mankind become of an impending spiritual bankruptcy. never in any preceding generation has the young man standing on the threshold of life felt more unsettled. his unsettlement has frequently turned to frenzy and anarchy in individual cases. never has he cast his eyes about more desperately for a way of redemption or a spiritual leader. for him, as for all of us, the one requirement is to find out what is the _first_ thing to do; not the nearest, but the _first_, the most essential; the one after which all other things naturally take their places. it is not to wreck the great machine, for that would be to rush to the other extreme of ruin and disorder. it is not even, as i think, to build a new machine, for that would be to enter into a wasteful competition wherein we should spend without profit and with much loss of brotherly love, all our patience and our new desires. the one way and the first way is to use and subordinate the present machine, to limit it to its true domain, and let it be our true and vital servant. but how? by finding the few who can live the life of communion, the few who can show forth the true significance of the race. by saving our most precious thoughts and ideals, and adding them to the similar thoughts and ideals of others, by putting the instruments of education in their proper places, by separating and saving in the world of literature and art the expressions of beauty which are valuable to the coming race, as distinguished from those that are merely sold for a price. by the making solitary, which is making sacred. for instance, i would have the famous and wonderful pictures now foiling and dwarfing one another in our vulgar galleries, distributed over the western world. i wish their enfranchisement. each great picture should be given a room to itself, like the sistine madonna, not only a room but a temple like that of the iverskaya at moscow, not only a temple but a fair populous province. the great pictures should be objects of pilgrimages, and their temples places of prayer. in the galleries, as is obvious, the pictures are at their smallest, their glory pressed back into themselves or overlapped or smudged by the confusing glory of others. out in the wide world, enshrined in temples, these pictures would become living hearts, they would have arms dealing out blessings, they would outgrow again till their influence was as wide as the little kingdoms in which they were enshrined. pictures would again work miracles. what is more, great pictures would again be painted. this illustration is valuable allegorically. great pictures are very like great souls, very like great and beautiful ideas. what is true for pictures is true for men. the men who feel in themselves the instinct for the new life must take steps to make space for themselves and to make temples. where they find the beautiful, the real, they must take it to themselves and protect it from enemies, they must at once begin to build walls of defence. so great is their responsibility and so delicate their charge that they must challenge no one, and invite no discussion and no hostility. they must have and hold their own beautiful life as they would a fair young bride. where they have visions they must build temples, as the russian mouzhiks build churches and put up crosses. of course i do not mean material temples, but temples not made by hands, temples of spirit, temples of remembrance. where they read in books sacred pages they must make these pages sacred, sacred for them. where they find men noble they must have reference to the noble part of them and deny the other. they have to win back the beautiful churches and cathedrals. often it is said nowadays, "such and such a church is wonderful and its service lifts one to heaven, but the clergyman and his sermon are impossible." but though a clergyman can condition his congregation it is much more true that the congregation can condition the clergyman. it is written, "where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am i in the midst of them." when they in the pews are those in white robes, then he in the pulpit is the christ himself. in literature we have to differentiate what is purely a commercial product like the yellowback novel, what is educational like the classic, and what is of the new. with the commercial we have of course no traffic; the classic is a place for those still learning what has already been said, a place for orientisation, for finding out where one stands. in this category are the shakespearean performances at the theatre. in any case the classic is necessarily subordinate to the new literature, the literature of pioneering and discovery, the literature of ourselves. it is the school which prepares for the stepping forth on the untrodden ways. this fencing off, differentiation and allocation, these defences of the beautiful and new, and of the temples enshrining them, shall be like the walls round a new sanctuary. we shall thereby protect ourselves from the encroaching commercial machine, its dwarfing ethics, mean postulates, and accurst conventions, and we shall rear within the walls all the beautiful that the outside world says does not exist. we shall find a whole new world of those who despise the honours and prizes of the commercial machine, and who care not for the shows, diversions, pleasures, and gambles provided for commercial slaves. but it will not cause those of that world to falter if the great multitude of their fellow-men scoff at them or think that they miss life. our work is then to separate off and consecrate the beautiful, to bring the beautiful together and organise it, not renouncing the machine, but only taking from it the service necessary for our physical needs, in no case being ruled or guided by it or its exigencies. when we have accomplished that, a miracle is promised. the outside world will take shape against our walls and receive its life through our gates--it will come into relation to us even to the ends of the earth. the new heart means the salvation of all. with that we necessarily return to ourselves, the out-flung units of modern life, tramps so called, rebels, hermits, the portents of the new era, the first signs of spring after dark winter; some of us, the purely lyrical, spring flowers; others the prophetic and dynamic, spring winds--who blowing, shall blow upon winter, as nietzsche says, "with a thawing wind." we are many: i speak for thousands who are voiceless. but we are feeble, for we know not one another: we shall know. a new summer is coming and a new adventure; and summer, as all know, is the year itself, the other seasons being purely subordinate. we are as yet but february heralds. nevertheless we ask, standing without the gates of the sleeping city of winter, "who of ye within the city are stepping forth unto the new adventure?" strange powers are to them; the mysterious spells of the earth, the renewal of inspiration at the life source, the essence of new summer colours, the idea of new summer shapes. to the young men and women of to-day there is a chance to be as beautiful as it is possible to be upon this little earth, a chance to find all the significance of life and beauty that is possible for man to know, a chance to be of the same substance as the fire of stars, a chance of perfection. it is the voice of the hermit crying from the wilderness: "i have come back from god with a message and a blessing--come out ye young men and maidens, for a new season is at hand." the end a tramp's sketches by stephen graham some press opinions. _daily telegraph_.--"a deeply interesting volume that will stimulate in many readers a desire for that fuller work on his trampings which mr. graham promises.... he is gifted with rare ability to write of that which he has experienced. it may safely be said that few readers would wish, after taking up this volume and reading one of the sketches at random, to put it aside without having read the rest.... it is always something pertinent, fresh, and interesting that the writer has to tell us." _daily news_.--"mr. graham has given us in this robust book a classic of educated yet wild vagabondage." _academy_.--"to have read _a tramp's sketches_ is to have been lifted into a higher and rarer atmosphere.... a book that, if we mistake not, is destined to endure." _english review_.--"a delightful book, redolent of the open air, of the night, of the great silences of expanse, and yet full of incident, of _aperçus_ into russian conditions and the minds of peasants, revealing a real spiritual and material sympathy, both with the 'black earth' and the monks of monasteries, whose hospitality he enjoyed, and with his fellow-comrades of the road. it is life that interests the author. here we can get it, and it is like splashing about in a clear pool on a warm summer's day, spontaneous in inspiration, mature in philosophic contemplation. this sort of book gives a man honest pleasure. more, it sets his heart beating in unison with the author, in harmony with the awe and beauty and simplicity of nature." _queen_.--"the whole book is full of beautiful things.... mr. graham may feel sure that we look forward eagerly to his next book, in which he promises to tell the full story of his pilgrimage to jerusalem." _literary world_.--"a book to read, to cherish, and to turn to again and again for the renewal of the moods of exaltation which it distils like dew upon a hillside." _t.p.'s weekly_.--"a charming book of travel and philosophy. this tramp is a stylist, and if you have a friend who can appreciate really intimate and beautiful writing, buy it, and read it carefully word by word yourself. the pages are cut, and by this means you have a fund for reverie and talk that is not chatter. in an age of 'topics' and 'masterpieces' this quiet volume is the more delightful." _globe_.--"of the true vagabond spirit mr. graham possesses a very abundant share, and it is this sheer delight in tramping for tramping's sake--the only real joy of living--that, visible in every word he writes, makes his book so fascinating to read." _by the same author_. with the russian pilgrims to jerusalem with illustrations from photographs by the author, and a map. vo. [transcriber's note: bold text is surrounded by =equal signs= and italic text is surrounded by _underscores_.] our little cossack cousin in siberia the little cousin series (trade mark) _cloth decorative, mo, illustrated, each_ $ . by laura e. richards, anna c. winlow, etc. our little african cousin our little alaskan cousin our little arabian cousin our little argentine cousin our little armenian cousin our little australian cousin our little austrian cousin our little belgian cousin our little bohemian cousin our little brazilian cousin our little bulgarian cousin our little canadian cousin of the great northwest our little canadian cousin of the maritime provinces our little chilean cousin our little chinese cousin our little cossack cousin our little cuban cousin our little czecho-slovak cousin our little danish cousin our little dutch cousin our little egyptian cousin our little english cousin our little eskimo cousin our little finnish cousin our little french cousin our little german cousin our little grecian cousin our little hawaiian cousin our little hindu cousin our little hungarian cousin our little indian cousin our little irish cousin our little italian cousin our little japanese cousin our little jewish cousin our little jugoslav cousin our little korean cousin our little lapp cousin our little lithuanian cousin our little malayan (brown) cousin our little mexican cousin our little norwegian cousin our little panama cousin our little persian cousin our little philippine cousin our little polish cousin our little porto rican cousin our little portuguese cousin our little quebec cousin our little roumanian cousin our little russian cousin our little scotch cousin our little servian cousin our little siamese cousin our little south african (boer) cousin our little spanish cousin our little swedish cousin our little swiss cousin our little turkish cousin our little welsh cousin our little west indian cousin the little cousins of long ago our little athenian cousin our little carthaginian cousin our little celtic cousin our little crusader cousin our little feudal cousin our little frankish cousin our little macedonian cousin our little norman cousin our little roman cousin our little saxon cousin our little spartan cousin our little viking cousin l. c. page & company (inc.) beacon street boston, mass. [illustration: "the horses rushed madly forward" (_see page _)] our little cossack cousin in siberia by f. a. postnikov _illustrated by_ walter s. rogers [illustration: spe labor levis] boston the page company publishers _copyright, , by_ the page company _all rights reserved_ first impression, november, second impression, october, third impression, may, preface the name cossacks is given to a large part of the russian population. these people are endowed with special privileges in return for specific military service. they are of different racial origin. there are ten separate _voiskos_, settled along the frontiers, those of the don, kuban, terek, astrakan, ural, orenburg, siberian, semir-yechensk, amur, and ussuri. these differ in many respects, though with a similar military organization, the primary unit of which is the _stanitsa_ or administrative village. the historical cossacks are those of the don and of the dnieper rivers in russia, of whom it has been said that they were "originally passionate lovers of freedom who went forth to find it in the wilderness." the other cossack divisions have been patterned after these by the government. in the later sections the military spirit and the old cossack traditions are carefully fostered. our book deals with the ussuri cossacks of siberia, among whom colonel postnikov lived for many years, both as an officer and as a civil engineer. although the story is written in the first person, it is in no sense an autobiography of the author, who was born in western russia. besides the country around ussuri river, other sections of siberia and other classes of people than the cossacks are described incidentally. in the spelling of russian names, an endeavor has been made to give some idea of the actual pronunciation. the editor. contents chapter page preface v i. childhood adventure ii. the first deer of the season iii. the booty secured iv. a big catch and new preparations v. "the keta are coming!" vi. tiger! tiger! vii. the night alarm viii. what came from attending a skodka ix. the hunt x. the hunt--continued xi. a journey xii. a garrison town xiii. a cossack drill xiv. an evening visit xv. lent and easter list of illustrations page "the horses rushed madly forward" (_see page _) _frontispiece_ "rode at full gallop towards us" "it seemed to all of us that they could never reach their goal" "the great beast . . . jumped over the seven-foot fence" alexis pavlovitch cossack officers our little cossack cousin in siberia chapter i childhood adventure no, indeed, we don't sleep through our siberian winters, nor do we coddle ourselves hanging around a fire,--not we cossack[ ] children. i was brought up in eastern siberia, in a russian settlement, on the ussuri river, about fifty or sixty miles from where it joins the amur. these settlements, you ought to know, were first established in the year , in order to show the neighboring manchus where russian boundaries ended. the first were along the amur, the later along the ussuri river. no doubt i owe much of my hardiness to the fact that my ancestors were among the involuntary pioneers sent here by our government.[ ] the source of the ussuri is so far south that in the early spring there is always danger of a sudden breaking of the ice near its mouth and a consequent overflow. now it is strange, but whenever we children were forbidden to go on the river something would tempt us to do it. "you mustn't go on the ice, vanka," father said to me one day as he left for habarovsk, the nearest big city. i remembered the command all right until i met my chum peter. he had a fine new sled to show me. it could go so swiftly that when he proposed that we cross to the manchurian side, i said quite readily, "whee! that'll be grand; it isn't far, and we can get back in no time!" peter was on the sled which i was pulling, when we neared the low chinese banks of the forbidden river. they were not as near as they had seemed. it had taken us a full half hour to cross, although we ran all the way, taking turns on the sled. suddenly peter called out in a strange tone of voice: "stop, vanka, stop! we must run. look! hongoose!"[ ] i stopped so suddenly as almost to throw peter off of the sled, and saw three manchurians on the bank. they were standing near their horses who had huge bundles slung across their backs. "why," i said slowly, resolved not to be frightened, "those are merchants." "no," said peter, his lips trembling; "they have rifles." "ye-es," i reluctantly admitted; "but see their big bundles. they are certainly traders." "we had better run--" began peter stubbornly, turning from me. [illustration: "rode at full gallop towards us"] "you're nothing but a _baba_ (old woman)," i said contemptuously, a tingle of shame covering my cheeks at the mere thought of me, a cossack boy, running from a chinaman. what would my father say, or my grandfather? whoever heard of their doing such a thing? yet, to my great surprise, my knees trembled as i recalled a scene of two years ago, when the brave cossack kontuska was found two miles from our village with his head smashed open, and it had been decided that he had been murdered by the hongoose. then, with a certain feeling of being protected, there also flashed through my mind a picture of the revenge expedition that the cossacks had organized, and even of the chinese horse that had been brought later, as one of the spoils, to my own home. as we stood thus, one of the manchus suddenly threw the bundles from off his horse, and, leaping on it, rode at full gallop towards us. i caught my breath, yet instinctively picked up a huge piece of ice, while peter raised the sled into the air with both his hands. it was a regular siberian winter morning, dry and clear. the sun was still in the east over the high russian bank, so that it fell full on the approaching chinaman, as we called him. the snow flew out like sparks of fire from under the hoofs of his horse, accompanied by a peculiar crunching sound. when a few hundred feet from us, the manchurian changed the gallop to an easy trot. "_how a ma?_"[ ] he said, when he had come up, surveying us with a broad smile. with a deep feeling of relief something made me recognize the fact that he had not come to slay but merely to satisfy his curiosity. i noticed the round red circular spot on his breast as well as the red ball on his cap. these, i knew, indicated that he was a regular army officer. with an awkward show of friendship he turned us round and round, touching our clothes, looking inside of our hats, and then said something which puzzled us. but when he had twice repeated, "_shango-shango_," i understood that it meant that all was right, but whether it related to our clothes or to us, i hadn't any idea. to show that i wasn't afraid, i shook my fist at him saying, "you are _bushango_."[ ] he understood, and smiling good-naturedly said in broken russian: "no, no, me shango too." then, opening his fur coat and putting one hand under it, he pulled out something wrapped in a small piece of rice paper. this he opened. it contained a few cookies smelling of peanut oil, and these he smilingly offered to us. i leaned heavily first on one foot, then on the other, while peter looked sideways, unable to decide whether it would be proper to accept such a gift from a chinaman or not; but tempted by a desire to show it to our parents, we took it shyly. "how interested mother will be," i thought, quite forgetful of my disobedience. mother, however, never got a glimpse of the treat; every crumb was eaten long before we got half way back. when i reached home, i found mother in a very nervous state of mind. some one had spread the report of our trip across the border, and in her anxiety she imagined all sorts of terrible things to be happening to us. no sooner did she see me than she put down my baby sister, who had fallen asleep in her arms, and embraced me. a moment after she still further relieved her wrought up feelings by giving me a sound whipping, and still later, after i had washed myself and had had my dinner, both she and my older sister listened with many questions to very minute particulars of our little adventure. footnotes: [footnote : more properly kozak or kazak.] [footnote : in the spring of , a regiment of three sotnias of cossacks from the transbaikal region were chosen by lot to settle with their families along the amur river. here they were divided into small villages or _stanitsas_ (cossack posts) about fifteen miles apart. the land was then for the most part a wilderness. there were forests to be cleared and marshes to be drained. in addition to doing this pioneer work the cossacks had to defend the frontier toward china and provide postal communications between the amur and the section from which they had come.--the editor.] [footnote : members of organized bands of chinese robbers.] [footnote : northern chinese for "hello."] [footnote : not good.] chapter ii the first deer of the season it was april. winter was over, but the sun had not yet had time to melt the ice in our part of the river when the alarm was given that the ussuri had broken loose a hundred miles above us and was rushing toward our village at tremendous speed. this news was brought by an officer who had been sent to give orders that the river be dynamited at once to remove the ice blockade. i was awakened that night by a terrible noise resembling hundreds of guns shot in rapid succession. my first impression was that the officer and his assistants were blowing up the ice, but i soon learned differently. when i had dressed and come out, i could see that it was caused entirely by the breaking of the ice. all the village, including babes in arms, were already on the banks. it was not light enough to see the whole picture, but in the half darkness the moving white field of ice blocks resembled now a herd of mysterious animals, fighting among themselves, jumping on one another, and roaring, as they rushed headlong toward the north, or then again more like spirits driven from paradise, and making their way into the unknown with cries and wails, in desperate panic and fear. we stood there for two or three hours watching the ice blocks, many of them three or four feet thick and hundreds of feet long, pushed out on the shore by their neighbors, to be in their turn broken by new masses of blocks. when the sun arose the picture instead of mysterious became magnificent. as far as one could see there was a moving field of blocks of ice, gleaming in rainbow colors, apparently changing shapes at every moment. those nearest to us rushed with the greatest velocity, the middle blocks moved more slowly, and those toward the low chinese shore seemed merely a moving stretch of snow. i had just noted that the river which i was accustomed to see far below our high bank, now almost rose to its level, when i heard quick, excited exclamations around me: "deer! deer!" i turned to where the hands were pointing and saw a strange sight. several of the small deer that we siberians called _koza_, were sailing on a big block of ice in the middle of the stream. a moment after every person was in motion, even the women running home for rifles. i remained with only a few old men who muttered: "the fools! how could they get them so far away, even if they should happen to shoot them?" but the hunter instinct, or perhaps the strong desire to get this particular kind of food, made every one reject the apparent impossibility of getting the booty from this terrible roaring river, carrying everything so swiftly away. the animals approached nearer and nearer. we could see their occasional desperate efforts to jump from one block to another, always to return to the big block which quietly and majestically flowed among hundreds of smaller ones, which pushed around it, now breaking their edges, now leaving a part of themselves on its surface. in a short time the deer were directly opposite us. there were five of them, a big stag and four does. suddenly there was a rapid succession of shots around me from the men who had returned. the stag fell, killed, i afterwards learned, by my uncle who had aimed at it as being the most precious. two of the does also fell, but the two remaining started on a wild race for the chinese shore. one of them was obviously wounded, for after two or three slow bounds she was caught by the moving mass of ice and disappeared under the water. i followed the other with a certain amount of sympathy until it was nothing but a tiny dot, and then turned my attention to what was going on around me. there was great excitement. an old cossack named skorin, was trying to stop his nineteen-year-old son and two others from the mad attempt to push a boat on to the stream, in order to go after the slain animals. these had been pushed gradually nearer us by the ice, and young skorin argued that it would be easy to get them. i noticed that this dispute was being listened to by our friend che-un, a member of the goldi tribe, one of the native siberian races, who had lived near our village as far back as i could remember. he was regarded with considerable kindly respect by the cossacks as being the most experienced hunter and fisher among them. he had on, as usual, his winter costume which made him look like a bundle of fur. it consisted of a nicely made deerskin coat, deerskin trousers and boots. his dark face, with its flat nose, its sparkling, black, almond-shaped eyes, was all attention. old skorin turned to him. "tell this madman," he said, "that it is certain death to try to get into the stream now." without giving him a chance to reply, young skorin burst out: "say, che-un, tell father how i crossed during last year's flood." the goldi did not answer at once. instead, he puffed two or three times through the long pipe which he always held in his mouth. then, slowly pulling it out, he said brokenly, "were it a bear, i might go--but for deer--no." "oh, come on," said young skorin persuasively. "if you won't, i'll go with vassili here. come on, vassili," and, with a reckless laugh, and without paying further heed to the protests of his father, he made a bound to his boat which was lying among others on the snowy bank. [illustration: "it seemed to all of us that they could never reach their goal"] all of these boats were of the light goldi type, built from three very wide boards, one about two feet wide, at the bottom, the two others on the sides, and two small end boards, all well-seasoned, nailed, and caulked, bent to meet and generally raised at the bow. all the boards were well smeared over with tar. such a boat can be easily carried by two men, or pushed along the snow or ice. at the same time its displacement is so great that five and sometimes six men can cross a stream in it. when the two young men had pushed the boat over the snow into the river, young skorin took his seat in it while vassili ran for two landing forks, a gun, and one oar. when he returned, che-un suddenly changed his mind and joined the daring youths. this gave great relief to all of the women, who were filled with anxiety as to the outcome of the boys' crazy venture. chapter iii the booty secured the boat was soon on the river, partly on ice and partly in water, and the struggle to reach the big ice block on which the deer lay, began. we saw the hooks of the young men flying now to the left, now to the right of the boat. sometimes one end of the boat, sometimes the other, would be raised high into the air. now and then, as the stream carried them further away, we could distinguish that it had become necessary for the youths to pull or push the boat across some ice barrier. as we strained our eyes watching them, it seemed to all of us that they could never reach their goal. noontime came, and i heard my mother's call to dinner. i was so hungry by that time, not having breakfasted, that i answered at once despite my desire to see the end of the adventure. i had scarcely seated myself at the table when my father and old skorin entered. "you must eat with us, pavel ivanovich,"[ ] said my father. "you can't go home. it's too far. besides, it's a long time since we've had a chance to be together." we all understood father's kind intention of trying to keep the old man's mind from dwelling too anxiously on his son's uncertain fate. besides, my older sister had just become engaged to young skorin and this drew our families closer together. old skorin stepped into the room with dignity, took off his fur cap, and walking to the corner in which hung the ikon,[ ] crossed himself. not until he had done this, did he salute my mother with: "bread and salt, anna feodorovna," this being the customary greeting when any one is invited for a meal. "you are welcome, dear guest, pavel ivanovitch," was my mother's hearty response. "take this seat," and she pointed to the place of honor under the ikon and to the right of my father. "where is katia?" asked skorin. at this question i looked around amazed to find that katia was not in the room. i had never before known her to be absent at meal time. mother answered with a trace of discontent in her voice: "i don't know. the breaking up of the ice seems to have upset the whole village. run, vanka, and find her." i left my place at the table with great reluctance, not daring to offer any protest in the presence of my father, whose military training made him insist on prompt obedience. when i reached the river's bank, i saw my sister among those yet there. she stood shading her eyes, in order to still make out the now scarcely visible boat. her face expressed a peculiar mixture of admiration and anxiety. i recalled that she had had a quarrel with young skorin the night before, which had probably led to the rash undertaking. inexperienced though i was in such matters, i felt that this venture had somehow resulted in her complete forgiveness. when she understood why i had come, her first question was, "is father already home?" learning that he was, she ran as fast as if her heels were on fire, so that i could scarcely keep up with her. when we reached home the talk turned to the appearance of the _koza_, my father saying that it was a good omen, that we should have plenty of deer meat that season. these siberian deer always move in a succession of small herds, and are followed and preyed on not only by men but also by wolves and other animals. for this reason our cattle were always safe during their migration. at this time, too, we always had an abundance of deer meat three times a day. the skins were saved either to be immediately made into fur coats and caps or for future use. often on account of the abundance of these skins many of them were sold to traders who now and then visited our part of the country. every boy in our village learned all about the habits of the deer in childhood, not only from his relatives but also from the members of the neighboring goldi tribes, or from manchurians who use the growing antlers as an invigorating medicine, considering it almost as precious as ginseng, which is also found along the ussuri river. sometimes they paid as high as two or three hundred rubles[ ] for a pair. i knew several cossacks who made a fortune hunting deer. they were also profitable to keep as pets, the horns of the male being cut off every summer, when just about to harden, and sold. we were just through dinner when a shout came that young skorin had been successful. we rushed out and met him bringing the big stag to our house. my mother and sister helped him skin it and cut it into four parts. then i was sent around to spread the news that that evening there would be a big feast to which the whole village was asked, this to be followed by a dance for the young people. toward evening the guests began to arrive, many of the men dressed in old uniforms, many others simply in belted, gayly embroidered red, blue, and gray blouses. the older people seated themselves around the table in our house, while the younger received their share of the feast informally at our nearest neighbor's, greatly relieved at being free for a while from the supervision of their elders. the meal lasted a long time. there was first the traditional deer soup of the cossack, then roast deer, and finally an unlimited amount of coarse rye bread, milk, and tea. vodka, too, as an especial treat, was offered to the older people. when the table had been cleared and moved out of the way, the blind musician, foma, with his fiddle under his arm, was led into a corner. the son of the head man of our village (the _ataman_), took his place next to him with a harmonica. the dancing began with the rather slow steps of "_po ulice mastovoi_" (on the paved street), and ended with the cossack dance, "_kazachok_," led by an old woman named daria, and old skorin, followed by more and more active dancers, until it finally terminated in the dancing of the liveliest cossack present, each newly invented stunt on his part producing an explosion of applause. during the dance the house was packed with people. the greatest excitement prevailed. men sober enough in everyday life, seemed suddenly to give expression to something wild in their natures. by midnight every one present was so exhilarated that he was either dancing or beating time. even grand-dad matvei, who was said to be a hundred years old, kept time with the music by shrugging his shoulders and striking his feet against the ground. all that evening my sister and young skorin were the center of attention, their engagement having been announced immediately after supper. footnotes: [footnote : in social converse in russia, the given name of the person addressed and the given name of the person's father are used together, instead of a title and the surname as with us. thus, mr. john smith, the son of mr. karl smith, would be addressed as john karl-ovitch.--the editor.] [footnote : the picture of the savior, the virgin, or some saint. used in the russo-greek church and found in the home of every member of it.--the editor.] [footnote : a ruble is a russian coin equal to about our half dollar.] chapter iv a big catch and new preparations one evening, later in the spring, when our rivers were entirely free from ice, and the banks were covered with green grass and primroses, peter came suddenly into our barnyard with: "quick! get your spearing fork! there's fish in the grass." without a word, i made several leaps to the barn where my father kept his fishing implements, snatched a fork, and followed peter in a race to the river. just before we reached the bank, peter grabbed hold of my hand. "be quiet," he said, softly. "do you see anything?" i looked on the slightly waving surface of the river and along the bank, but could see nothing out of the usual. peter let me gaze for a while and then pointing to a small inlet formed by a curvature of the river, where the water was very shallow and gradually sloped toward the meadow, whispered: "there!" my eyes followed the direction of the pointing finger. the grass of the surrounding meadow was partially under water, only a few inches projecting above the level. here something attracted my attention. it looked like a brown comb moving gently back and forth. "a fin," i whispered, more to myself than to peter. hardly breathing, we stepped into the water which reached to our knees, and made our way toward the brown waving comb of the fish. i held the fork in readiness and tried to keep between the fish and the river. when we were about three or four steps from the fish, it suddenly threw itself in our direction, and so swiftly that i had scarcely time to throw the spear. then something struck me on the foot and i fell forward into the water. "hurry," screamed peter. "help me." with my face in mud and water, i could not at first understand the situation. when i arose, however, and had wiped my eyes, i was mad with excitement and joy. the fish had not reached the stream but was on the sandy bank, half under water. peter was pressing his whole body on it, trying to hold it down. it was a _sazan_, extremely big, weighing at least fifteen pounds, and it took us more than five minutes to subdue it and carry it to a dry spot. when this was done i let peter hold the fish with his fork while i ran for a sack. in this we carried the fish home, immensely proud and boastful of our achievement. when father returned at night, he expressed surprise at the size of our catch, adding that he had heard that day that the _keta_ were expected soon. this produced more excitement, for next to bread the most important food of the ussuri cossack is fish, and particularly the _keta_, a kind of salmon. when the _keta_ came from the sea at nikolaievsk, they are very fat but get thinner as they go up stream, it taking several weeks to make the journey from the mouth of the river to the source. the cossacks have to be very active during the migration, for it lasts only a few days. but father had still other news for us which brought the excitement to a climax. he had asked the commander of my brother's garrison to permit dimitri to return home to help with the _keta_ fishing! the day following our big catch, all of the men of our village set to work patching nets, sharpening their spearing forks, repairing their boats, while the women cleaned and got ready all the different necessary vessels from barrels to frying pans. father had brought as much salt from the town as possible, but it would only be sufficient for pickling a part of the fish; the rest would have to be smoked and dried. while all the village were thus engaged, two horsemen were seen approaching. they wore tall fur hats, had swords at their sides, and guns over their shoulders. their yellow shoulder straps and the broad yellow stripes on their wide trousers which were shoved into high boots, the silver inlaid handles of their _nagaikas_ (cossack whips), all indicated that they belonged to one of the active divisions of the ussuri cossacks. surprised exclamations of "mitya!" "phillip!" "brother!" "son!" were heard. i waved a red handkerchief at them, recognizing dimitri's companion as phillip, a cousin of my chum peter. when they reached the village, they leaped lightly from their horses and kissed and embraced all present, answering as they did so the questions and joshing remarks hurled at them. i learned that they had come on a two weeks' leave of absence, and that even father had not expected them so soon. after the first greeting, he said reproachfully: "there was no need for you to hurry so fast. you might have killed the horses. why, it's only yesterday that i saw you." "don't be grouchy, father," said dimitri. "we walked half of the way. i am very well aware that a cossack's first duty is to his horse; his second to himself." and as if to demonstrate this, he turned to where i was trying to climb into his saddle and said seriously: "no, vanka, don't worry him now. he is too tired. better loosen his saddle girths, take off his bridle, and lead him to the stable. don't forget to put as much straw as possible under his feet. don't get on him, or i'll never let you go near him." although discouraged in my expectation of a nice ride, i was nevertheless proud of my brother and his confidence, and led the horse to a shed which, as was usual in our village, consisted of three sides only, the fourth, to the south, being open. at that moment my mother came running up. she had not seen dimitri for more than a year, and she hung herself on his neck, laughing and weeping with joy. then the interrupted work was resumed. dimitri and phillip left us to change their clothes, but soon returned and joined heartily in our preparations. part of the men now waded out into an arm of the river until the water reached to their breast. through this arm the fish usually made their way. here two fences, separated by a space of about two hundred feet, were to be built, one to the russian bank, the opposite one from the water to an island in the river. first, poles three or four inches thick, were thrust into the river bottom, about a foot apart, and then willow twigs interwoven between. the fences were then braced from behind with posts tied with willow ropes. when these were finished and the men had come back to shore, a big fire was kindled. standing around it, they took off their wet clothes and hung them on nearby bushes or spread them out in the sun. old skorin then pulled a basket with eatables from under a stone, and also a bottle containing _vodka_ (brandy), in order, he said, to keep them from catching cold while standing around naked after their icy bath. although their lips were blue and their teeth chattered, they laughed and joked as they took it. people don't complain of things in our part of the world. a decidedly cold wind now began to blow and i was sent to several of the homes for what clothes i could get. without, however, waiting for me to return, they began to spread the fish nets which were lying in big bundles on the banks. i soon came back with some dry things for the oldest in the party. for skorin, in addition to an old army overcoat, i had a pair of long socks made of heavy wool by his wife. she had pressed them into my hand at the last moment, bidding me to be sure to see that her husband put them on. skorin received these with a show of scorn, mingled, however, with a satisfaction that he could not disguise. "my wife," he said, "is always worrying about me. if we cossacks gave in to our wives, we'd all be very tender-footed." but i saw that he pulled on the socks. having performed my commission, i turned to where about four hundred feet of netting was already hanging on seven foot high poles. men were at work on this, tying up broken loops and fixing weights to the lower parts. long ropes were fastened to the ends. the work was done with feverish haste. when my brother and phillip came running up, another bundle of nets of about the same size was unrolled, and the two set to work patching it, putting all the skill that they possessed into the work. when the call for dinner came at noon, the netting was ready for use. now a difference of opinion arose, some wishing to continue until all the nets were finished, others contending that after a hearty meal they could complete the work more quickly. skorin who despite his age, was the inspiration of all present, sided with those who wished to remain, but when some one called his attention to the fact that dimitri and philip had not breakfasted, he surrendered, and we all hurried to our homes. chapter v "the keta are coming!" certain that there would be something extra for dinner on my brother's account, i ran on ahead, and as i ran i tried to guess what it would be. we would have, of course, the usual _borsch_ (cabbage soup with plenty of meat, potatoes, and onions, and sometimes the addition of sour cream), buckwheat _kasha_ (porridge), and the inevitable tea and rye bread. but what else? as soon as i burst into the room, i knew, for mother was just taking a big fish pie out of the whitewashed oven in the brick fireplace. the others came in as i was clapping my hands with delight, and we all took our seats around the big table. we had hardly finished eating our _borsch_ to which, following the example of my father, i added two big spoonfuls of buckwheat porridge, when the door opened and sonya, peter's sister, came in so nearly out of breath that she could hardly ejaculate the words--"the _keta_ are coming!" she might have said the enemy, so suddenly did we all spring to our feet and rush out shouting the news to all whose homes we passed. a few minutes after, our boats were in the water with the nets, and the men at their assigned places with fishing hooks, hatchets, and ropes. the women were not behindhand in coming, not merely to gaze at the river but to bring necessary utensils. i had no especial duty assigned me, and so in trying to help everybody, i managed to be a nuisance. it was not long before i received a kick out of the way from my father, who was assisting feodor carry a heavy net. this sent me several feet down the bank. nothing disheartened, i grabbed hold of a boat which my brother and young skorin were pushing into the water. but they worked so rapidly that i lost my balance and fell flat into the edge of the river. my brother caught me up by the neck, shook me angrily, and tumbling me up on the bank growled: "stop putting yourself where you're not wanted." i hardly knew what to make of such unusual treatment from mitya. to hide the tears which were ready to fall, i ran as fast as i could to the top of the bank and got behind some trees from which i had a good view of the entire river. here i soon forgot how sore i felt. the fresh damp air was filled with the aromatic fragrance of opening buds and leaves. for a mile along the russian bank, the river shone mirror-like under the bright rays of the spring sun. its surface was slightly waved by the wind, except in one place where there was a peculiar disturbance. sharp waves and splashes and two rows of foam indicated the approaching advance guard of the _keta_. two boats were rowing desperately to their appointed places on both sides of the opening between the two fences. two other boats had already gone to watch lest the fish should turn into some other arm. suddenly the men in these began to fire shots, no doubt to prevent the fish from turning. their maneuver evidently succeeded, for the fish headed directly to where the other party awaited them. as they came nearer and nearer i grew so excited that i leaped high into the air and yelled wildly. although it was not a big school of fish, it covered more than two hundred feet. as it came to the fences there was a great disturbance, heads and tails and even the entire body appearing far out of the water. a few individual fish jumped as high as the very top of the fence. a very large number became entangled in the spread nets. because of the number of fish, it became difficult to get the water end of the net back to land, and, for a while, it looked as if the fish would escape, nets and all. the hard work of the men in the boats seemed to accomplish little. finally old skorin, alone in his light _baidarra_,[ ] separated himself from the others, and pulled behind him the end of the rope, while the others exerted themselves to resist the pressure of the fish. when he reached the bank, he wound the rope around some trees which he used as a block, until he made a sufficiently strong anchor for the party behind. two or three men came to his assistance, and gradually the far end of the net, filled with an enormously large number of fish, was brought on the bank. a little behind this net was another net to get the fish that escaped the first. many fish, however, went under both and were soon out of sight. the whole village now gathered with vessels and sacks, knives and hatchets. the fish were picked up, killed, and carried to improvised tables, where a row of women and two strong men started to work at cleaning, salting, and packing them in barrels. the work was continued until the salt gave out late at night. the remainder were left for drying and smoking on the morrow. all of the work was done in common; later the fish were divided among the different families according to the number of workers in each. the next morning everything looked gloomy and muddy, for there had been a shower during the night, and it was still drizzling. happening to recall that the year before at this fish season the weather had been dry, i ventured to ask: "isn't it foolish to try to dry fish in such wet weather? they'll get wetter than they now are." to my chagrin and astonishment, all began to laugh, and young skorin remarked: "they are rather used to being pretty wet, i fancy." as i turned from the laughing crowd, who, as soon as they had cleaned some of the fish, hung them on ropes stretched in several rows along the bank, i noticed that "granny" daria and her adopted son were watching the workers. i soon saw that they were not there merely out of curiosity but to pick up the spawn which they washed in a big tank and piled in a barrel. later i was told that daria had been the first in the village to prepare caviar for sale. that was the year before, when she made enough money to purchase a cow in the city. we all envied her this cow, for in comparison with our undeveloped manchurian cows she gave an enormous amount of milk. footnotes: [footnote : a boat for one man, made of bark and the skin of fish over a wood skeleton.] chapter vi tiger! tiger! i must have been at least a year older when father came in one evening, his face full of serious concern. i had just been uttering peculiar yells to amuse my little sister, but at once became silent, anxious for him to speak. as soon as he had warmed his hands a little at the fire, he turned to me with, "you will have to go after the cattle, vanka, and try to get them into the yard." then, turning to my mother, he added, "a tiger[ ] was seen in the valley last night." mother began to make some timid objections to my going out because of the falling snow, but father interrupted with: "trifles! he's a cossack!" my mother knew too well my father's conviction that the same discipline that prevailed in the camp should be found in the home, to say more. i confess that i did not like the task assigned me. as i reluctantly arose, my mother, trying not to betray her emotions, bade me put my fur coat over my blouse. when i had done so, she herself tied a heavy muffler over my cap, and then turning from me, pretended to be absorbed in getting supper. the anxious look in her eyes, however, had not escaped me. when i stepped out of doors, i could not make out anything at first. the wind was colder and blowing stronger than in the morning, and i rubbed my nose, remembering the half frozen one with which i had returned from a trip on the river two weeks before, resulting in a swollen face and a disagreeable daily greasing with goose fat. after a few minutes i made out the fences, and then the road, down which i stumbled, hoping to find our cattle clustered as usual, about a big haystack, half a mile from the village. the sky, as is customary in eastern siberia, was clear and full of stars. the dazzling whiteness around gleamed as if covered with thousands of jewels. more than once a clump of bushes made me sure that the tiger was a dozen steps before me. suddenly a sinister sound broke the stillness. i half turned to run, when it was repeated, and i recognized that it was only a cracking of the ice in the river below me, so i continued on, relieved. snow circles now began to form around my muffled face and the deeper snow creaked under my feet. gradually, however, all sense of fear left me for a while. the spirit of adventure, the thought of accomplishing so difficult a commission, filled my heart with the determination to do it as well as though i were a full grown man. i had gone less than a quarter of a mile when i began to make out several dark spots approaching along the trail. soon i heard the bleating of a calf, who, evidently trying to follow its mother, was discontented that more attention was not paid to it. "they have scented the tiger," i said to myself, "and are trying to get home." for a moment i felt glad that i did not have to go further. then it occurred to me that should the frightened animals unexpectedly see me, they might run away so that it would be impossible to find them again that night. quickly stepping to one side, i crouched down next to a little hillock. i was a moment too late, for the cattle stopped and stood motionless, gazing toward the spot where i lay. when they renewed their approach, their rapid trot had changed to a slow, cautious walk. it was fortunate that the wind was blowing in my direction, for they were soon in line with me. i scarcely breathed until they had passed, when i leaped up so quickly to follow that i again frightened them, and they started off on so mad a rush towards home that they were soon out of sight. it was not until then that it occurred to me that the tiger might have been following the cattle, that even now he was somewhere near where i had first caught a glimpse of them. panic stricken, i grabbed up the folds of my heavy coat and ran along the trail like one insane. once i stumbled, and it seemed to me that i felt the tiger's breath on my neck, that his claws were outstretched to carry me so far away that even my mother could not find me. then, with a hasty glance behind that saw nothing, i gave a leap forward and continued my run. at last i caught a glimpse of the light from our house, which was at one end of the village; and completely out of breath, i broke into the kitchen and sank to the floor. mother, greatly alarmed, ran up to me, crying out: "for heaven's sake, vanka, what's the matter? are you hurt? is the tiger--" gasping for breath, i answered weakly, "yes, tiger." this produced a commotion. my older sister began to cry; my mother caught up the baby from her warm bed on top of the oven and kissed her, while father with one leap took his rifle from the hook and put on his ammunition belt. then, taking me by the shoulder, he demanded: "where was the tiger?" i muttered something so unintelligible that his face cleared somewhat. he evidently perceived that i was more frightened than the situation justified. to relieve the tensity of the atmosphere, he said in quite a natural tone, "you're scared, sonny, eh?" then added briskly, "shame on you! take a lantern and follow me." these words returned to me all my presence of mind. i jumped up and feeling the necessity of something being done, ran for the lantern, lit it, and followed my father who, enveloped in his fur coat, was already out of doors. when my eyes accustomed themselves to the darkness, i saw that all of our cows were huddled together near the barn. we drove them to a corral surrounded by a seven-foot high fence made of tree trunks. when sure that all were in, father closed the gate, and turned to another corral in which were the horses tied to posts. at first i thought that he intended to drive them into the corral with the cows, but soon saw, to my great surprise, that he had not only untied them but let them go freely out of the gates. he even went to a shed reserved for a highly valued stallion and let him loose. "why did you do that?" i ventured to ask him. "i never heard yet of a loose horse being caught by a tiger," he replied briefly. "but the cattle--" i began. "they're different," he said, "they haven't the sense to know how to protect themselves. besides, they couldn't run fast enough, anyhow." as we moved about with our lanterns, our dogs and those of our neighbors kept up a continuous barking. at last we turned toward the house, my father remarking as if to himself, "the tiger is a good way off yet." "how can you tell?" i asked timidly. "why," he answered rather impatiently, "don't you hear how the dogs are barking?" "yes," i said. "much more than usual." "more than usual," he repeated after me with a sarcastic emphasis. "you'll see how they bark if a tiger ever ventures near our house. but come, it's time to go in. i'm worn out. you go ahead, i'll follow as soon as i've closed the gate." i skipped to the house, feeling very brave with my father so near, and listened to the different voices of the dogs as i did so. that of little zushka, who belonged to our nearest neighbor, seemed ridiculous compared with that of our wolf-hound, manjur. i whistled to manjur who was about a hundred feet away. he stopped barking and ran up to me. hardly had i begun to pat his head than he suddenly stiffened with attention, his hair bristling. then with a ferocious bark such as i had never heard before, he disappeared into the darkness. the moon, which had risen, made the surroundings quite visible. turning my head, i saw my father some distance away standing perfectly still, his face turned toward the road, his rifle raised to his shoulder. i also stood still, scarcely breathing, until he set his rifle on the ground. as he did so he glanced at the house. seeing me he called out roughly, "what are you doing here? didn't i tell you to go in?" "is it a tiger?" i said with teeth chattering. "i don't know," he answered; "but do as you're bid." i had to obey, and stepping in, soon cuddled myself under the heavy fur coat that served as my comforter. but though i lay down i could not fall asleep until my father came in and quietly but a little more slowly than usual, got ready for bed. i heard my mother whisper: "did the tiger come?" and father's answer: "i think so, but for some reason he went away." "will he return?" from my mother. "how do i know?" came impatiently from my tired father, and i fell asleep. footnotes: [footnote : the siberian tiger, one of the finest in the world, is found only in the eastern part of the country.--the editor.] chapter vii the night alarm a few hours before dawn i was awakened by our dog barking angrily, yet with a peculiar note showing fear and disdain. i could also hear him leaping up and down in one spot near the very door of our house. instead of answering barks, the neighboring dogs gave forth long and deep howls. there was such a noise and mooing of the cows in the corral that it seemed to me they must be trying to stamp or hook each other to death. father and mother were already up, and i heard father's deep command: "get me a lantern." as soon as the match was lit i saw him as he stood in his night shirt but with his fur hat on his head and a rifle in his hand. as soon as the lantern had been lit, he seized it and rushed to the door, putting on his overcoat as he ran. i arose hastily, put on my fur coat, grabbed the hatchet lying by the stove, and followed just as he cheered on the dog who ran before him to the corral, barking loudly. as i came near i saw my father thrust his rifle hastily between two fence posts. a second later came a short flash and the report of the gun. but my father's curses showed that he had failed to hit the mark. at the same time, i heard a roar so terrible in its fury and strength and hate that i trembled so as to be hardly able to stand. surely, i thought, a beast who can produce such a roar can swallow not only one but several cows at once. how brave my father seemed to me as, still muttering, he reloaded his old gun with another cartridge. but here something happened. the great beast holding a cow in his teeth as a cat does a mouse, jumped over the seven-foot fence of the corral and ran off into the darkness, pursued by our wolf hound. with what sounded like the cossack war cry, father followed, while i, too, made my way some distance after, this distance gradually increasing on the snow covered trail. [illustration: "the great beast . . . jumped over the seven-foot fence"] we continued in this fashion for perhaps five minutes, when the dog changed his ferocious barking to a pitiful whine and a new shot rang out into the air, followed by a short roar. i stopped in the middle of the road, unable to go a step further. i don't know how long i stood there, but it was until i heard manjur returning. i could just make him out but oh, in what a pitiful condition! he was limping so badly that at times he simply dragged his body along the ground. tears sprang to my eyes as i heard his cries and hurried toward him intending to pat him on the head. but when i tried to do so, my hand found itself covered with a warm sticky fluid which i knew to be blood. i could feel that his skin was torn, one ear gone, and his left front leg broken. helping the dog all i could, i returned crying to the house. as i stepped into the room covered with manjur's blood, my sister katia gave a scream, while my mother with terror written in her eyes, exclaimed: "what's happened to you? where is your father?" "i don't know," i answered; "but see what the frightful tiger did to poor manjur." mother, somewhat relieved, but still trembling, now came up and helped me apply greased bandages to the torn ear and broken skin of the faithful dog. while we were doing this, father returned. slowly he took off his hat, then his heavy coat, and in reply to my mother's mute questioning look, said: "i believe that i must have hit him for he dropped the cow,--yet he got away." "is she alive?" asked my mother with anxiety. my father shook his head. "her neck is entirely broken," he said, adding, "i hardly think he'll return to-night. to-morrow we'll get him, for he's probably hungry and will hang around." then he ordered me and my terrified sister to go to bed in order to get up early, and busied himself with poor manjur. long after the light was extinguished, i lay awake thinking of the tiger, my father's courage, my mother's anxiety, the wounded dog, and the dear cow. for some time, too, i could hear the low voices of my father and mother discussing the preparations for the morrow. one name, that of tolochkin, was mentioned several times. i knew of this tolochkin as a wonderful hunter of tigers. i had never seen him, however, for he lived more than forty miles away, and was peculiar in his habits, keeping much to himself. chapter viii what came from attending a skodka the sun's rays were already brightening the room when i awoke next morning. i jumped up from the bench that formed my bed at night and looked around. the fire was burning brightly in the big stove, mother and sister were clearing the table. father was gone! quick as a flash, it occurred to me why he was away. he had gone to a _skodka_, a gathering of the villagers who are always called together when there is a grave matter to be discussed. my lips trembled in my disappointment, for i had hoped to go with father. i dressed hastily, and then grabbing up my fur cap and coat started for the door. mother saw me and called out, "where are you in such a hurry to go, you foolish boy? you're not washed nor combed, nor have you had a bite to eat." "i haven't time," i mumbled. "i have to go to the _skodka_." mother, despite the seriousness of the situation, burst out laughing. "do you think you are necessary," she inquired, "to deciding what ought to be done?" then changing her tone she said, "hang up your _shuba_ (overcoat), wash yourself, and breakfast, and then perhaps you can go." my pleadings to depart at once were in vain, and i had to do her bidding. i forgot the disappointment somewhat, in attacking with relish the well-prepared buckwheat porridge, rye bread, and tea. the instant i was through, nothing could prevent me from running to the _skodka_. when i reached fedoraev's log house, which my mother had told me was the place of meeting, i found the front room filled with neighbors. peter, who was at the door under the low-eaved portico, pointed out a tall, broad-shouldered man, with a heavy beard and bushy hair and brows, as the renowned tolochkin. i gazed at him with all my might. "how many tigers has he killed?" i asked peter in a whisper. "forty!" came the answer. "and you ought to see the bear and deer skins which i saw in his yard the latter part of january." i turned to the man again. i had been told that he was about fifty years of age, but he looked about ten or fifteen years younger. i noticed that he did not say much except to reply sharply to suggestions and arguments. "why won't you come with us, ivan stepanovitch?" i heard the village _ataman_, the head man of our village, say to him in a slow, persuasive voice. "we need you to show our youths how to hunt tigers. they've got to learn. we lost five cows and a dozen sheep last year, and this one rascal alone can ruin us. we'll give you half the price of the skin." "i don't care for the company, thank you; i prefer to hunt tigers single-handed." he paused and added with a peculiar sarcasm, "i'm really not needed." here he arose and left abruptly. for several minutes after his departure, no one spoke. then i heard my father's voice: "since he doesn't want to come, let him stay away. we're no children to need help. how many rifles can we count on for to-morrow?" there came a chorus of "i," "i'm with you," "count on me," and then quite involuntarily, i found myself exclaiming loudly: "i'll go." to my surprise everybody found something amusing just then, for there was a resounding laugh. a man near the door faced me with, "where is your rifle?" i looked straight into his eyes and answered earnestly, "last year my uncle promised to give me one of his shotguns." again there came a new and stronger explosion of laughter. what was the matter? were they laughing at me? my uncle came to my rescue. "brave boy," he said, patting me on the shoulder. "i'll take you if your father consents, and you shall have a rifle instead of a shotgun. we need some one to see to our horses." then the meeting began to discuss plans. it was decided that about two hours after midnight all who were going were to meet outside of the village at the crossing of the road to bear valley. only two dogs, wolf hounds owned by laddeef, were to be taken. when i returned home, i said nothing to my mother of my share in the _skodka_, but when shortly after midnight i heard my father's heavy steps go out to feed the horses, i arose quietly and dressed, not forgetting my fur overcoat and cap and my warm felt boots. when my father returned, his beard white with frost and snow on his deerskin boots, he looked at me with a mingling of surprise and satisfaction and exclaimed: "you up! what's the matter?" "you seemed willing that i should go on the hunt," i stammered, fearful of a refusal at the last moment. "seemed willing," my father repeated with a slight smile. here my mother who was now up, broke in quite excitedly: "you are surely not going to be so crazy as to let vanka go." that saved me. father always disliked any interference, and now, in addition, mother's tone angered him. "father," i begged, before he could speak, "mother thinks i'm a baby. she doesn't understand that i'm to be raised like a cossack and not like a lamb. uncle will take care of me." my father who was frowning deeply, seemed to be turning over something in his mind. at last, without looking at me, he said, "it'll do you good. if your uncle will take charge of you,--go." i didn't give my mother a chance to utter a word but flew out of the door like a bullet, forgetting even to close the door after me, a negligence usually punished in our village by a beating. i did not lessen my speed until i found myself at my uncle's felt-padded door. turning the knob (it was not customary to lock doors or to knock in our village), i walked in. uncle was still in bed and at first could not understand my presence. when he did, he jumped to his feet with "you rascal, you caught me this time, all right! take any rifle you want." he pointed to several antlers on the wall on which hung an array of rifles and daggers. while i tried to decide on the rifle, he washed and dressed, made a fire and began to prepare pancakes and tea. having decided what gun i wanted, i helped him by hammering odd-shaped lumps of sugar from a big cone-shaped loaf. from time to time he looked smilingly at me and uttered unrelated ejaculations, from which i learned that he favored my going. we sat down, i thinking what a cheerful man he was. "i guess you haven't breakfasted," he said, filling my plate. "your mother probably gave you a spanking instead of something to eat." i looked up at him in surprise. how could he know that i hadn't had anything to eat, and that my mother was angry. having eaten heartily, we went out. i helped saddle his horse, and then together, laughing and talking, we hitched a mule to a sleigh into which we put hay and grain, a bag of tobacco, some bread, salt and meat, sugar and tea, an _arkan_ (the cossack's lassoo), and some cartridges. i tried to follow his excellent method of packing things away neatly, for i knew that that was a part of the training of every cossack. when we were ready to start, i in front, he a few steps behind, his pipe in his mouth, a smile on his lips, i could not help asking: "uncle, what are you smiling at?" "at you!" he answered unexpectedly. "i guess you wouldn't go home just now even for ten rubles."[ ] "why--" i began and stopped, wondering again how he could read my thoughts. for it had just occurred to me that if, for any reason, i had to return, mother wouldn't let me out again, and perhaps even father-- at this point, i hit the mule on whose back i was mounted, and we started off. footnotes: [footnote : russian money. ten rubles would equal about five dollars of our money.--the editor.] chapter ix the hunt when we reached the meeting-place, more than a dozen men on horseback were already there. close to them stood a big shallow sleigh, the runners of which were a pair of birch poles. in it were ropes, a hatchet, food and forage. the driver of this was daria, an old woman, whom i have already mentioned once or twice. i knew her story. the death of her husband and two children of typhoid fever had caused her to be despondent for several years. then some one left a foundling at her door. she adopted the child, trying in every way to make a worthy man of him. to do this, she accepted all kinds of odd jobs, even such as were generally given to men. she built fences, prepared the dead for burial, acted as midwife and nurse, delivered messages that nobody else cared to undertake, sometimes at night or during severe storms. she seemed to be afraid of nothing in the world and of nobody. when she first began to work in this way, she was pitied and helped; a little later, she was laughed at, and unpleasant names were applied to her; but finally, all came to have a deep respect for her and to rely on her help when trouble came. long years of humiliation and struggle for a living, and the overcoming of all obstacles, had made her somewhat imperative in manner. she always expressed a decided opinion. many people thought she really knew everything, and one or two superstitious persons even insinuated that she was a witch. when money or its equivalent in milk, eggs or flour was offered for her services, she accepted it from those who could pay. from others she refused everything, giving instead something from her own small store. i thought her very odd, but liked her. nevertheless, to-day,--well, to-day, it seemed to me that it was not fitting that i, a cossack, should have to remain in the rear with a woman. comforting myself with the knowledge that daria was a very unusual woman, i bade her good morning. "good morning, you rascal," she answered. "what are you doing here? i know that your mother is worrying about you." i did not think that this needed a reply. jumping down from the mule but holding on to the reins, i joined a group of cossacks who formed a circle in front of their horses. "i guess we're all here," remarked mikhailov, an active, talkative fellow who had lately returned from actual service with the rank of non-commissioned officer and with the unpopular habit of constantly assuming leadership. he was probably the youngest present. "yes," replied my father. "and now we must follow some system. perhaps we'd better cast lots to see who is to be our _ataman_, the leader of our band." old skorin shook his head. "what's the use of that?" he said. "you know the country, and you'll suit us." this did not please mikhailov, who tried to put in an argument against there being any leader, but he was overruled, one of the men even turning to him with: "you, in particular, need to be careful. don't be too anxious to shoot when you first catch sight of the tiger. wait until you can aim directly at his head or heart. if you don't, he'll teach you something that you'll never forget in this life." "keep your counsel for your own use," retorted mikhailov. "i don't need it." father here raised a warning hand and began to assign to each one present his place and duty. "you, simeon," he said, turning to one, "take the hounds along the low places of the valley, so as to get the tiger to move out of the bushes into the open spaces in the hills. you, ivan and feodor, take your places on the western side of the brush and keep close watch. don't let the beast escape into the forest. and you, mikhailov, and you, foma, remain as quiet as dead men on the left side of the brush, about one hundred feet apart. mind, you're to hide in the tall grass and not show yourselves. the tiger will probably try to run to hog valley. don't miss him. be vigilant and brave." then he turned to me. "as for you, vanka, stay with granny under the oak on yonder hill. tie the horses well and see that they don't get frightened at either the tiger or the shots. see that you don't stare open-mouthed at the sky and don't go where you're not wanted. if you leave your place--you'll be sorry that the tiger didn't get you. do you understand?" [illustration: alexis pavlovitch] something in my father's voice cheered me. i felt that he knew what he was about and that i must obey. then mikhailov asked father, "where are you going?" "to the north of the valley, where i'll take the rest and station them." turning to simeon he added, "don't let the hunt commence until you hear a shot from my rifle." and, followed by several men, he left us. before those remaining separated, i heard mikhailov remark to his neighbor, "oh, he's foxy. he's selected the best place for himself. we'll not even catch a glimpse of the tiger." here daria turned quickly to him with, "you've returned from service as big a fool as when you left. do your duty and you'll find that alexis pavlovitch has done you justice." striking her horses with a whip, daria started for the oak. i followed. when i had tied the horses, i tried to wait patiently for day-break. but oh, how long the hours seemed! my fingers grew stiff with the frost. i tried to limber them up by blowing on them after i had taken off my mittens. here daria jumped to the ground, picked up a big handful of snow and rubbed her fingers with it. after wiping them she put them into the big sleeves of her fur coat, saying, "now even my old fingers are warm. follow my example." i bent down, my fingers so stiff that i could hardly grab up any snow. as i rubbed them, their flexibility gradually returned, and i dried them on the border of my fur coat. then, still imitating my companion, i put them into my sleeves. they felt as warm as if they had just come out of boiling water. by the time the first glimmer of dawn appeared, i could already distinguish mikhailov, who was lying half hidden in the dry grass, and a moment after, the dogs leaping around simeon, who tried to keep them quiet while waiting for my father's signal. just before sunrise, the faint sound of a shot from down the valley came to us. daria awakened from her doze. at the same time the hounds commenced to bark and move toward the dry snow-covered brush covering the bottom of the valley. at first simeon held them tightly by a rope and they barked regularly and carelessly. soon, however, there was a change. anger and hate mingled with their bark. "they have scented the tiger," whispered daria. i forgot everything, horses, mule, myself, as i stared fearfully into the snow-covered underbrush for a glimpse of the beast. at first i could see nothing, for the white covering grew blinding under the first rays of the sun. that and the yellow leaves of the low mongolian oaks hid simeon, the hounds, and the tiger, making it seem a wall of mystery to me. i shivered for fear of the men as i recalled how easily this tiger had carried off our cow. it was not until later that i learned that even the most ferocious of wild creatures will avoid meeting man unless forced to do so. the sun rose just behind where i was stationed, and gradually i could see two stationary black spots against the white of the hills opposite. they were ivan and feodor. on our side, mikhailov and foma showed more excitement. they even kept bobbing into sight, despite my father's strict orders to remain hidden. i also made out two cossacks, mere specks, down in the valley. but nowhere could i find my father. suddenly i noticed a movement in the brush some distance away. i thought it must be simeon and his hounds, until an open space was reached and i distinctly saw an animal apparently the size of a mouse. unable to control myself i cried: "the tiger!" daria's hand instantly covered my mouth. but mikhailov had heard and signaled "where?" i tried to show him as best i could without turning my eyes from the tiny spot on the snow. it may have been that the tiger heard my loud exclamation; it may have been that something else attracted his attention; in any case he remained motionless for a few seconds. then with one leap he disappeared again into the brush. shortly after, simeon and the two hounds appeared in the same spot. then my excitement cannot be described as i saw the tiger run exactly toward where mikhailov was concealed. from my elevated position all this was visible; mikhailov, however, could not see how close the tiger was to him. in a very short time the beast had reached the eastern side. he appeared so unexpectedly before mikhailov that the latter, instead of shooting, uttered a curse, and the tiger turned back. here mikhailov committed the grave error against which he had been warned. he shot in the direction that the tiger had gone and evidently hit without killing him. a terrible roar followed as the creature turned and jumped right on the man who had wounded him. chapter x the hunt--continued my heart gave a wild leap and i grabbed hold of the side of the sled for support. then a great many things happened, but i recall them to the smallest detail. as the tiger's roar rang out, all the horses tied to the trees and in my care broke their halters and rushed wildly away. daria's two horses attached to the sled, followed, leaping over all obstacles. daria's greatest efforts were powerless to even reduce their speed. i soon forgot all about them, however, so intent did i become on the picture before me. i saw foma, who was nearest, make a few jumps toward him and then kneel and point his rifle at the beast who clung to mikhailov. a shot followed. immediately after, the tiger turned, looking just like a big cat. he gave three or four convulsive shakes and fell back without a sound on the snow, his hind legs sinking deep into it, and his front legs stretched to the sky. i ran toward mikhailov, but, before i reached him, i felt a strong arm on my neck and a voice interrupted by deep breathing: "stop, you crazy boy! wait! he might be able to break your neck yet. a tiger doesn't die as quickly as that." i stopped, and with the man who had spoken gazed where the tiger lay. it remained motionless. after a few seconds my companion judged it safe to approach. foma had shot him in the ear, killing him instantly. mikhailov was lying with his right side and part of his head deeply imbedded in the snow. his fur coat had been torn from his shoulder, revealing a deep wound from which the shoulder blade projected. at first sight his head seemed attached to the body only by a shred of skin, so unnaturally was it twisted to one side and covered by a thick mass of blood. though shivering as if with a fever, i could not turn my eyes from the terrible sight. i regained possession of myself only when i heard my father's voice as he came up on horseback. as he jumped down to examine mikhailov he turned saying, "go, help my brother catch daria's horses." the man addressed leaped at once on father's horse and hit it with a _nagaika_ (a cossack whip). the spirited animal put back its ears, and like an arrow shot out toward where daria's horses could be just seen running around in circles in the snow. one by one the other hunters arrived and stood around mikhailov. no one seemed to know what to do, and no one dared, apparently, say what he thought, although two of the men took off their hats as is generally done in the presence of death. finally some one did turn to my father with, "is he quite dead?" as if in answer, mikhailov just then made a faint movement with a finger of his left hand. it seemed to me that he was trying to signify something by this, especially as it was followed by a slight moan or two. then again there was silence. here some of the men began to talk, wondering how he could have made so great a blunder. my father stopped them. "it's time to do something," he said, and beckoning to two others to help him, tried to raise the wounded man into a more comfortable position. mikhailov groaned faintly. "better let him die without hurting him," interjected my uncle, turning his head away. "but look!" quickly exclaimed an intelligent-looking young man. "his face isn't injured at all. only his neck is torn. he might live long enough to take the sacrament at least, and even, perhaps, make his last will." four of the men again raised mikhailov, my father supporting his head, and placed him on a saddle blanket that had been stretched out on the snow. meanwhile daria's horses had been caught and she had driven up. as soon as sufficiently near, she slipped down from her sleigh and tottered toward the wounded man. blood was still dripping from the neck. "fools!" she exclaimed, looking indignantly at the men. "it's lucky the blood has partially clogged or he would have bled to death before your eyes." then turning to one of the cossacks she added: "your blouse looks clean. give it to me." without a word the man took it off and handed it to her. paying no attention to the bits of advice that now began to be given, such as "put some tobacco on the torn place," "powder is the best thing," she tore the shirt into pieces and began to bandage the wound. i watched her quick, sure movements with a constantly growing admiration, my former liking for her changing to a sort of reverent love. when she had finished and stretched herself with difficulty, i found that the men had not been idle. dried twigs had been spread in the sleigh and these covered with several horse-blankets, the whole forming a comfortable bed. the quickness with which it had been made showed that the cossacks were used to needing it. several cossacks now lifted the wounded man on to the sleigh with as great care and skill as that possessed by the best trained nurses. they then helped daria to an especially prepared place by his side. my uncle took the driver's seat, and i, without waiting for invitation or permission, jumped up next to him. slowly we drove off. i looked back once or twice to see what those left behind were doing. some of them hung the tiger to a strong tree, the skin having already been loosened from his legs. then they carefully cut the thin under skin with their hunting knives and gradually pulled it off from the tail down. as soon as we arrived at the village, a man was sent on the swiftest horse to be found, to the nearest _stannica_ (an administrative cossack station) where a doctor was to be found.[ ] it was not until late at night that the doctor arrived. when he had examined the wound, he said: "i can't understand how he has lasted so long with so little help." "will he live?" some one asked. the doctor shook his head. "there's but little chance of that," he said. but i may as well say here that mikhailov did live, his wonderful constitution pulling him through. his neck, however, was crippled, his head always inclining toward the left side, and his left arm practically disabled. the accident taught him wisdom, and later he took to hunting again, becoming the most renowned hunter of wolves and bears in our district. the tiger skin was sold to a passing merchant for sixty rubles, while the tiger's heart was bought by a chinaman, who intended, it was said, to reduce it to powder and sell it to those who thought that they could thus have some of the tiger's bravery transmitted to them. the skull was given to daria in acknowledgment of her services, and kept by her, with many other very curious things, in the front room of her little log house. footnotes: [footnote : each district has its own doctor receiving pay from the government. his duty is to attend to all cossacks and their families, free of charge, whenever necessary.] chapter xi a journey one day, not long after a traveling merchant had brought us news of dimitri, my father called me to the bench on which he sat, and putting his hands on my head, asked: "how would you like to learn to read and write?" at first i did not know what to answer, the question was so unexpected. glancing at my mother, i saw that it made her so uneasy that she dropped a tumbler on the floor, a very unusual happening. although father did not insist on my answering, the question kept coming back to me all that day and the next, until i decided that to learn to read and write would be a very good thing. for some days following this question, i noticed that father seemed to be brooding over something, and finally, to my great surprise, i accidentally learned that i was the cause of his worry. one night after i had gone to my bed, where i lay dreaming of having won distinction in the army, i heard mother say, "what's worrying you, alexis? are you sick? or is anything wrong with the horses? or"--here her voice trembled--"have you had bad tidings of dimitri that you're afraid to tell me?" "oh, no," father answered. "nothing is wrong." then he abruptly changed the conversation. "do you remember mongalov?" "do you mean your chum, vanka, whom my mother spanked when he threw mud at me as a child?" "that's the one," replied my father. "but you mustn't call him vanka any more. didn't mitya tell you that he is now a _sotnik_?"[ ] "what! an officer! is it possible?" "yes,--and i am not," said my father with a certain bitterness in his voice. "yet i had a better chance in some ways than he." here his voice sank lower. "now, our vanka isn't stupid, and if we give him an education i don't see why he shouldn't become an officer. too bad that that fellow gabrilov, whom we had here as a teacher last spring, turned out to be such a drunkard. we really had to get rid of him." mother interrupted him. "judging by gabrilov, education isn't such a splendid thing. boys brought up in town learn all sorts of wicked things. i'd rather keep vanka here. he can learn to be as good a cossack in our village as anywhere else. mongalov may dress better than you, but he isn't respected a bit more. after katia is married i don't see how i can get along without vanka." here i fell asleep with the pleasant knowledge that, after all, i was not simply a nuisance but meant something to my parents. the next morning father went about his work as usual, feeding the horses and cattle, and bringing wood and cutting it. in the meantime mother brought water from the well in the middle of the yard, and i pumped water into a big trough to which i led the horses. when this had been done, father caught two of the horses, gave them some grain and tied them to a post. seeing my look of inquiry, he smilingly repeated a favorite proverb, "don't try to learn too much or your hair will turn gray." as we went in to breakfast his lips moved as if he were talking to himself, a habit he had formed whenever he had a great deal on his mind. mother watched him with a troubled air, and at last asked: "what's the matter, alexis?" without replying to her question, he said, "i have to go to habarovsk to-day, and i'll take vanyuska with me. i've been promising him the ride for a long time." i jumped up, waved my arms, and with my mouth full of bread, shouted: "hurrah!" my mother stopped me. "sit down, you foolish boy. you can't go. i need you." but, after a long argument, mother agreed to my going. then father and i cleaned the horses and tied their tails up as high as possible, for at this time of the year the roads were very muddy. i placed a light saddle on the horse i was to ride, and father's military saddle with its high trees on the other horse. as father put some sacks with forage behind these, katia came out with something that mother was sending dimitri. i was very glad to see this, for it meant that we were going to visit the cossack barracks. half an hour later we had left home and were making our way through the deep mud. it was a beautiful spring morning. the air was fresh and clear, and, despite the heavy road, the horses were full of spirit and went on with a light and springy gait. at a turn of the road i suddenly saw two rabbits sitting about a hundred feet from us. pointing to them, i called to my father to look. here my horse jumped to one side and i was all but thrown from the saddle. my father was quite angry. he turned to me exclaiming roughly: "what's the matter with you? a cossack should always watch his horse. he must never be taken by surprise even should the horse leap a fence. you almost fell like a sack." since that lesson i have never failed in watchfulness, never "fallen asleep," as the cossacks say, even when trying to ride a mule or an ox. we did not meet many travelers. once a company of dusky, flat-featured natives of the lake baikal region, passed us, splendidly mounted on their horses. their large, squat bodies gave them a somewhat forbidding air, but i knew how peaceful and harmless they really are. the russians call them bratskie (brotherly people). one was dressed in a long, purplish blue cloak, lined with fur, and had on a curious blue cone-shaped hat. the others were evidently cossacks, for they had on the distinguishing uniform. they may have been on their way to some buddhist shrine, for the russian government, severe with its own people, allows those born into other religions to worship as they please. "god gave us our religion. he gave them theirs," expresses the attitude taken. it was just here that we were overtaken by a man mounted like ourselves on a shaggy siberian pony. when he had come up, both he and my father gave expression to surprised greetings. he proved to be an old-time acquaintance. there was no end of questions and answers for he rode with us as far as our destination. he had just come from the city of vladivostok,[ ] the great growing seaport of siberia. as he gave a glowing description of the place, i was reminded of the meaning of the name vladi-vostok--possessor of the east. "we may build a great trade with the united states through vladivostok," he remarked among other things. "it has a splendid, land-locked harbor, large enough for any number of vessels,--and a beautiful one as well." "but isn't it frozen a large part of the year?" my father asked. "from the latter part of december to april. it's really too bad so great a country as ours hasn't an outlet further south. but all trade isn't stopped on account of the ice. there is a channel kept open for the largest ships all winter by means of ice-breakers." "what kind of people are there in vladivostok?" i ventured to ask, half fearful of saying something ridiculous. the man turned to me with a smile. "many exactly like those in your village. then people from different parts of europe, and chinese and japanese. also quite a number of koreans, whom you can tell by their white dress. you'll see those in habarovsk, also." after a moment's pause, he went on, "the bay is called the golden horn (zolotoy rog). the town rises up from it in terraces. it is very picturesque." "i suppose there is a fort there," i again ventured. this time the man laughed. "if you visited this seaport you might think it all forts. there are defenses,--forts and guns,--whole lines of them, everywhere. the greater part of the population consists of soldiers and sailors." here my father broached the subject of which his mind seemed so full these days. "i suppose there are fine schools," he said. i was so stiff by this time, and my back ached so much from the long unusual ride, that i was no longer able to concentrate my mind on anything except that i must not disgrace my father and myself by showing fatigue. at last we approached the great amur river. across it we could just make out a few black spots and the shining roof of a church. after a half hour ride we came to a place on the bank where a raft was stationed. a few people were already aboard, desiring, like ourselves, to be taken across. two soldiers had the boat in charge, and as soon as we were on, every one helped them in making the somewhat difficult trip. on the opposite bank we parted from our companion, and then, for the first time, i fully realized that we had reached our destination,--the important garrison town of habarovsk. footnotes: [footnote : an officer in the cossack cavalry.] [footnote : now connected by the longest railroad in the world with petrograd (st. petersburg), russia.] chapter xii a garrison town this was my first visit to a city, and i gazed with very wide wonder at the wooden sidewalks, the big stores, the many two-story houses, the well-dressed women and the numerous soldiers on the street. i could hardly understand what father said to me, so absorbed was i in the entirely new scenes before me. suddenly we heard the sound of trumpets, cymbals, and tambourines, accompanied by a lively song. then a company of cossacks on horseback issued from a side street. at the head of the column rode a group of special singers,--_pesenniki_. father and i stationed ourselves near the edge of the street, and tried to find a familiar figure. the long row of faces splashed here and there with mud; the similar uniforms, with rifles protruding from leather straps at the back and swords at the side; the hats tipped to the right, all exactly at the same angle; every left hand holding the bridle reins, every right hand placed on the hips;--how was it possible to distinguish among them? i soon decided that my only chance of finding dimitri was to look for his horse, which i knew to be gray, while the majority were bay. it was not long before i shouted: "father, look at the eighth row! dimitri!" then still louder: "dimitri! dimitri! look! here we are!" brother turned and nodded, but, to my great astonishment, did not come to us, but followed the others without giving any other expression of recognition. then i heard father saying, "why can't you be quiet? dimitri can't come to us until his company is dismissed." meanwhile the cossacks, six abreast, continued to ride past us whistling and singing. the entire population of the place now seemed to gather on the sidewalk. there were merchants in front of their stores, boys who tried hard to keep step with the horses, women returning from market with baskets on their arms, all gazing with appreciation at what was a daily sight. how very desirable it seemed to me to be one of such a company. how glad i was that my brother belonged to it, and that my father was a cossack. hoping to impress a pretty little girl who stood near me, i took off my felt cap with its yellow cloth top, symbolic of the east siberian cossacks, and then having looked at it, slowly put it on again. the cossack officers rode on one side of the men. they were distinguished not only by their brighter uniforms but also by the half arabian horses on which they were mounted. many of them had silver-plated belts around their waists. they had no rifles, only swords that shone brightly, while revolvers hung from their left sides. the bridles of their horses glimmered with silver. all the horses were covered with foam, showing that the drill had been no easy one. when we reached the barracks, the commanding officer gave an order, and the whole company leaped like one man from their horses to the ground. another order, and the horses were led to the stables, adobe buildings covered with thatched roofs. after the horses were rubbed down and fed, dimitri at last came and embraced us, saying: "wait for me at the rooms of the second platoon, where i'll join you as soon as i am free." then he ran with others to wash before taking his place in the dining-room. as we made our way to the dormitory, my attention was again attracted by singing, but of a different kind. it was the solemn prayer which was always chanted before dinner. soon we found ourselves in a long room in a brick building. everything about it was exceedingly neat. high windows admitted plenty of light, and as all were open there was a fine circulation of fresh air. the walls were apparently freshly white-washed, the floors painted. in one corner hung a big ikon with a lamp under it. about fifty iron beds placed in two rows were down the middle. each bed was covered with a gray blanket and each was marked with the name of the owner. along the inside of the wall stood racks for the rifles. when, after a half hour, we heard the chanting of the prayer of thanks in the dining-room near by, we looked expectantly at the door. the company soon filed in. some stretched themselves on their beds, some sat down to read, and some began to mend their clothes. when dimitri came, one of father's first inquiries was regarding schools and the promotion to officer rank. my brother was not well posted and so called the sergeant-major to help him. time passed quickly until the hour for drill. then the first cossack who noticed that an officer had entered the room, exclaimed, "silence! rise!" at once there was deep quiet as all arose. i was amazed at the sudden change, and looked with respect and fear at the man who could produce it. it was father's old-time friend, captain mongalov. i watched everything that he did with great intentness, noted how his worn-out uniform was tightly buttoned, how erect he held his body. even the curves of his legs, probably caused from living so much on horseback, and the way he swayed from side to side as he walked, attracted me. and how splendid and fierce i thought his big black mustache reaching almost to his ears. his face was a peculiar mixture of the russian and asiatic types, occasionally met among siberian cossacks. when he smiled, he showed two rows of perfect ivory, and he smiled often. yet even with his comrades his expression could change to one of great sternness at the least break of discipline. when he saw us he turned to my father with, "from where do you hail, friend?" father slowly and smilingly replied, "don't you recognize me, ivan petrovitch? i have just come from the ussuri." "what! is it you, alexis pavlovitch!" mongalov exclaimed. "it's ages since i last saw you." and he embraced my father. after a short exchange of reminiscences, he turned to me. "is this your son? he promises to make a fine cossack! are you keeping in mind, my son, cossack ideals of bravery and honor?" drawing myself to my full height in imitation of the bearing of those around me, i answered as well as i could, looking straight into his eyes as i did so. "good!" he exclaimed, and taking hold of me under the elbows he tossed me, like an old acquaintance, high into the air. then, suddenly, he turned to my father. "you must excuse me now. i want to see more of you some evening at my house." and, in a flash, the genial friend had changed into the stern commander of a company who, at a single word from him, proceeded to do the various tasks necessary before retiring. chapter xiii a cossack drill the night was spent at the home of an aunt, whose husband, a grocer, was also a retired cossack. their home was a very humble one, but what it lacked in luxury it made up in the hospitality of its owners. fresh straw for beds was brought in and put in a room set apart. this straw was covered with heavy home-spun bed linen, some feather pillows, and two big fur coats as comforters. after a fire had been kindled in the stove, we were invited to partake of supper, which consisted of deer meat, pancakes heavily buttered, and sour cream. after eating very heartily i became so sleepy that i was ordered to bed. when i awoke, the sun was streaming directly into my face. father, who was already dressed, tried to hurry me by saying, "you are a nice cossack! they must be half through the drill which you were so anxious to see. mongalov has promised to give you a horse so that you can follow the _sotnia_" (a company of from one hundred and twenty to one hundred and sixty horsemen). this was news to me. burning my mouth in my haste to swallow my hot tea, i was ready to follow my father in a few minutes. when we came to the barracks the cossacks, holding on to the reins of their horses with their right hands, were assembled in the front yard, and the sergeant-major was calling the roll. "we came too late for the morning prayer," my father whispered to me as the roll was ended. here came an order from the sergeant-major. "seat yourselves." at once every man leaped upon his horse. "line up," came next, and the horses arranged themselves in two straight lines, head to head and breast to breast. "silence!" was the next order, and all gazed mutely ahead, immovable as statues. some long command, the words of which i did not catch, followed, and the company changed positions to six in a row. a moment after, all were trotting along the road out of town. as we started to follow, the sergeant-major hailed me. "good morning! are you the young fellow whom captain mongalov wishes to have a horse?" "yes," answered my father for me, adding, "but i'm afraid he isn't a good enough rider to follow the company." "never fear," returned the sergeant-major. "i'll bet he's a true cossack and will take to horses as a duck does to a lake." a soldier now held a horse until i had climbed into its saddle. when he let it go, it started so fast to catch up with the others that i had difficulty in keeping my seat. however i did this, and also managed to prevent the horse from joining the ranks. after we had left the city, the company was halted in a big plain which stretched far out before us. it was somewhat rolling, with here and there washed-out places. the sergeant-major rode along the line inspecting the ammunition and appearance of the men. while he was doing this, horses were heard approaching at full speed. on the foremost sat mongalov. a little behind came two other officers. "greetings to you, little brothers!" he shouted as he rode along the line without reining in his horse. then i was almost dumbfounded by the suddenness of a gigantic answer. "good day to your honor," came from the company as from one man. mongalov noticed me and kindly stopped to say: "keep close to the trumpeter and you'll see everything. only don't get into anybody's way or i'll have to arrest you." with a smiling nod he rode to the front. at a word from him, the officers took their places. then followed several changes of position, all done with great rapidity and precision. i learned later that captain mongalov's men were unusually well trained even for cossacks. the captain loved his profession and the men were devoted to him. there was something fatherly in the great care that he took of the cossacks under him. on the other hand, he was severe in punishing any breach of discipline. no one resented this since he was just and endeavored to make the punishment corrective. at the conclusion of the drill mongalov called out in a voice resounding with warm approval: "well done, little brothers, well done. thank you!" and again, as one man, the company responded: "we were glad to do our best, your honor." "down!" was the next order. all leaped together to the ground. "rest and smoke," came again, and he and his officers jumped off their own horses and stood together discussing the next drill. the company followed their example, and soon burst into loud talk and laughter, while clouds of smoke arose from pipes and cigarettes. in the meantime i didn't know what to do. i was afraid that if i climbed down i couldn't get up again on my horse, who seemed unusually lively and disobedient to me. but i was not left long in this awkward position, for after a quarter of an hour of rest the cossacks were again on their horses, every man ready to obey any order. to judge by the alert look on their faces, the most important part of the drill was now to come. every eye was turned toward their commanding officer as if trying to guess what new trick would be required of them. mongalov sat on his steed, his right hand twirling his mustache, his eyes directed far down the field as if surveying the distance or estimating the difficulties before his men. then his voice rang out abruptly: "company, build _lava_!" these words produced an effect like a discharge of ammunition in the midst of the cossacks. the horses rushed madly forward and to each side of the center, forming a kind of fan. only by putting forth the full strength of my arm did i keep my horse in place, the proud animal trying so hard to show that she understood the command. in the wink of an eye the compact body of horses was transformed into a long line of separate riders, stretched so that there was about twenty feet between each. all were still, the men with swords drawn out of their scabbards. mongalov no longer shouted orders but indicated what was to be done by waving his sword in different directions. as if charmed by its motions, the long line moved, now to the right, now to the left, now forward, now backward. once mongalov, evidently dissatisfied, ordered the trumpeter to repeat through the trumpet the order given with the sword. since that time i have loved the harmonious sounds of the cossack trumpet which in a very short time i grew to understand as plainly as spoken words. here something happened. mongalov again made a sign to the trumpeter. a short, disagreeably false tone was the result. at this the cossacks acted like mad. with swords outstretched, they bent down to their horses' manes and with a terrible yell, "whee-ee!" they rushed wildly to the front against an imaginary enemy. my horse with ears back, took her bit between her teeth, and flew after them. here i learned how rapidly a horse can travel. the air whistled in my ears; my hat was blown off; my feet flew from the stirrups; and not to be thrown off, i grabbed the horse by the mane, uttering a short prayer. i did not know what was happening around me until i found myself, perhaps because of my light weight, among the other cossacks. around me were excited faces with wild expressions; faces that had lost their humanity; faces such as demons might possess, or christian fanatics who would lay down their lives for their faith. as we rode, a big washout suddenly loomed before us. most of the horses immediately jumped over and disappeared in a mad rush forward. but my horse and those of three men, perhaps through some fault on our part, did not make the proper jump. i felt a shock as the hoofs of my horse struck the opposite banks of the ravine, and then the horse fell to the ground, throwing me over its head into the middle of a mud-hole. as i struggled to get up, there came a new signal of three long harmonious sounds. the _lava_ was stopped. once out of the hole, i saw a line of still excited horses far to the front. two or three riderless horses, one of them mine, were running around them. not far from me lay another breathing hard and trying vainly to rise. near it a cossack lay stretched out, while two others sat on the ground a short distance away. in a short time mongalov, the trumpeter, and two officers, came galloping to us. his first question was to me. "are you hurt?" "no," i replied, in a voice that sounded strange to me, so shaken was i with the new experience. "here," said mongalov to a cossack, "place this boy back of yourself." then, throwing the reins of his horse to the trumpeter, he leaped down and turned his attention to the man lying stretched on the ground. he proved to be alive but with a leg broken and was put into the ambulance which had come up. "what's the matter with you?" mongalov asked the two bruised, scratched, and mud-covered men who sat on the ground. "_nichevo_,"[ ] they answered, smiling and shaking their heads. and as soon as their horses were caught and brought to them, they managed to leap on them as if in reality nothing had happened. when my horse was led up, mongalov looked at me where i sat ashamed to meet his gaze, holding tightly to the belt of the man before me. "you can stay where you are, my boy," he said kindly, "or ride your own horse. but let me congratulate you on being now a true cossack. the man who has never fallen from his saddle can never make a satisfactory cavalryman!" how much good these words did me! they not only made me feel at ease with myself, but taught me one of the best lessons of my life: that mistakes or mishaps do not down a man who can rise above them. with some difficulty i slipped from my safe position, and climbed as swiftly as possible into the saddle of my former horse. it was not long before the entire company were again on their way back to town. at the call "singers forward," several cossacks left the ranks and took their places at the head of the column. one of these men was urged to sing and he responded with a little russian song about a cossack who returned home from fighting the turks. at the conclusion of each stanza those surrounding the soloist began the refrain which was taken up by the entire company. listening to this story-telling song i almost forgot that i was in siberia, so vividly did pictures of what took place far away a hundred years ago pass before me. this song was followed by a boisterous rollicking one. the chorus was loud and accompanied by cymbals and tambourine. any one glancing at the broadly smiling and yelling faces, would not have believed that their owners were just returning from the most strenuous kind of work, had it not been for the mud and perspiration visible and their foam-covered horses. footnotes: [footnote : nothing; no harm.] chapter xiv an evening visit as we approached the town, there was less talking and laughing and the singing became less boisterous. the crowds gathered as i had seen them before, and showed their appreciation of the songs by now and then joining in the chorus. [illustration: cossack officers] before the barracks were reached, the men leaped down from the horses, loosened their saddle girths, and led them to the stables. here they unsaddled them, gave them hay, and curried them, while the non-commissioned officers inspected their legs as well as the skin that had been under the saddles. this was done with much caution, for captain mongalov was particularly strict regarding the health and care of the horses. where there was negligence, his usual reprimand was apt to end with: "don't forget next time that the cossack army's efficiency depends more on the sound legs of a good horse than on the blockhead who does not know enough to take care of them." when all the horses had been inspected, cleaned, watered, and given their prescribed measure of oats, the men were allowed to go to get themselves ready for dinner, leaving, however, four men whose turn it was to take care of the stables. i wish there were time to tell of all the wonders of that garrison visit, of the dinner in the big dining-room with dimitri, of the lessons given the young men, of the instructing officers, and most of all of my first sight of the fascinating and difficult exercise called the _jigatovka_, which i saw that same afternoon, and which consisted of horse vaulting, dart throwing at a gallop and many other things. captain mongalov invited us all to spend the evening at his house, and by six o'clock my father, my aunt, and i were at his front door. being a little in advance of the others, i tried to open it, but, to my surprise, found it was not possible to do so. could it be locked, i wondered. in our village such a thing was never done except under very unusual circumstances. father, noting my surprise, pointed to a handle on the door which he bade me pull down. i did so and heard a loud ring within. in a moment the door was opened by an orderly, who greeted us like friends and invited us in. when he had gone to announce us, i glanced around the room. a big desk occupied the left corner, the top of which was covered with books relating to military regulations. the big brass inkstand with its two kinds of ink, black and red, especially attracted me. on a table near by, a heavy nickel-plated lamp threw its light over a mass of official papers. instead of benches around the room as at my own home there were numerous comfortable chairs. one wall was covered with the skins of wild beasts. i recognized those of a black and of a brown bear. above these were fastened enormous antlers. on their very numerous branches hung swords, daggers, and other arms. pictures, one of which was that of an old lady plainly dressed (the captain's mother), hung on the opposite wall. then my attention fastened itself on a big tiger skin covering a sofa. i touched the artificial eyes which looked so intently at me; i wondered if the teeth were real. so occupied did i become that it was like an electric shock to feel a sudden clap on my shoulder and the captain's hearty voice greeting me. i immediately experienced a strong desire to converse with him as i would with an older brother, but he had turned from me and was busy answering some of my father's numerous questions. the bell rang again and admitted a new group. my aunt at once stepped up and threw her arms about one of the women in it, who proved to be her own cousin from the pretty neighboring city of blagovestchensk. closely following the cousin came her husband, a former artillery officer, with a very long beard. his thick, bushy gray hair framed a small sympathetic face. with them was a pale but very attractive lady dressed in a gray suit. a little girl of about my own age, had hold of her hand. mongalov greeted this lady with particular respect and gallantly kissed her hand. then he invited all to take off their wraps and make themselves at home, that is, all but nina, the little girl, and myself. he had beckoned to us to follow the orderly into the garden. here we found many things to interest us. there was a horse that refused sugar from nina but accepted, to my great delight, bread and salt from me. there were fancy chickens, and, best of all, a sort of see-saw on which i condescended to accept nina's invitation to play. we stood as straight as possible on the board which was balanced on a log, and as it went up and down jumped alternately into the air, each time going a little higher. nina was not at all afraid, and despite a peculiar seriousness about her, we were well acquainted when supper was announced. the table, set with more good things than i had ever seen before, was in a long dining-room. soon everybody was laughing and joking, everybody except nina's mother. it seemed to me that she was not like the rest of us but i could not have told why. the supper lasted a long time and when we returned to the big living-room, the piano, which stood on one side, was opened and lidia ivanovna, the lady in gray, consented to play some russian airs from glinka's opera, "life of the tzar." shortly after, both she and her little daughter as well as my aunt's cousin left, pleading the weariness still felt by the strangers from long travel. when they had gone, mongalov turned to the former artillery officer, whose name was kuzmin, and asked, "where did you meet lidia ivanovna?" "she came with a caravan of prisoners sent from st. petersburg." (petrograd.) "i am told that she is looking for her husband who was sent to siberia a few years ago as a political exile.[ ] if she can find him, she wishes to share his fate." here i exclaimed impulsively: "it ought to be easy to find him. the government officials can surely tell her where he is." kuzmin smiled bitterly. "they can, perhaps, if they wish. you must remember, however, that siberia is no little state. when i came here, it was with many thousands of prisoners, mostly poles who had fought for their country's independence, and they are now so scattered that you might not meet a dozen in a lifetime." "how big is siberia?" i asked. "in figures, it is more than five million square miles, but see that map hanging on the wall," said the old man with some eagerness, as if glad of the change in the conversation, "and see that little dot. that stands for the biggest city you know, the one you are now in, habarovsk." "that little dot!" i exclaimed in surprise, for no one had ever explained a map to me before. "this waving line," continued kuzmin, "is the amur river." again i stared incredulously. how could a little line stand for the very wide amur whose waters ran from horizon to horizon! "now that is only a small part of siberia," said my new teacher. "from here at habarovsk to the ural mountains, which separate siberia from russia, it takes two months to travel both day and night in a carriage." "tell me some other things about siberia," i begged. he pointed to a blue spot in the south. "this is lake baikal,[ ] the largest body of fresh water in asia, about four hundred miles long and about forty-five miles wide. it is fifteen hundred feet above the level of the sea. it is a place full of mystery. i don't know if any one yet has been able to find how deep it is. on one side are all kinds of caverns and arches. it's pretty but it's mysterious. now and then the earth in the vicinity trembles and quakes. irkutsk, the largest and most important city in siberia, is not very far from it." after a moment's pause, he went on: "let me tell you something of blagovestchensk,[ ] my own city. but no; i'd talk too long. why don't you move there?" turning suddenly to my father. my father shook his head. "if i move," he said slowly, "i want to try farming." "farming offers many inducements," agreed kuzmin. "i meet many farmers who came here penniless and now have hundreds of acres of land and hundreds of head of cattle and stables filled with grain."[ ] "were you ever in st. petersburg?" i asked unexpectedly. at this question a queer change came over kuzmin's face and he looked down without answering. here mongalov reached for his balalaika, a sort of russian mandolin, and began to play some gay russian airs on it. when we reached home, i asked my father why kuzmin did not wish to talk about st. petersburg. "he is a useful and clever man," my father answered, "but, poor fellow, he belongs to the unfortunates." from that i understood that, like lidia ivanovna's husband, the former artillery officer was an exile. footnotes: [footnote : siberia was formerly a penal colony.] [footnote : lake baikal's depth has never been measured. it is said to be the deepest lake in the world. there are many very interesting things about this lake. for one thing, everything points to its being very ancient. water flowing into it is supposed to be ten times that flowing out into the angara river. what becomes of it? its waters are fresh, yet gulls, cormorants, and other birds usually found only on the sea, haunt it, and seals actually live in it. the peasants call it the holy sea and have many superstitions regarding it.--the editor.] [footnote : blagovestchensk is now one of the prettiest cities in siberia. it has tree-lined avenues, parks, and attractive residences. there are also fine schools, public libraries, theaters, and hospitals free to the poor.--the editor.] [footnote : between and more than , , colonists settled in siberia. a great deal has been done by the russian government to help the new settlers in their new life.--the editor.] chapter xv lent and easter next morning my father took me to an exhibition held to show something of the resources of siberia. while i studied the many evidences of great mineral wealth,[ ] my father devoted his attention to everything that pertained to farming. on the way back to my aunt's i learned that we were not to go home yet, father having decided to stay for the week of repentance, a religious custom observed by orthodox russians. "you are now old enough to take your first sacrament after confession," he said to me. when i went next to the big church, with its onion-shaped dome, i felt quite nervous thinking of all the faults and sins that i would have to confess for the first time in my life. the service was a very solemn one. every once in a while one of the black-robed priests came out from behind the sacred gates on the altar and read the prayer: "lord and protector of my life, keep me from idleness, keep me from disappointment, keep me from false ambition, keep me from idle chattering. give me chastity, give me humility and love, me, thy servant. o heavenly czar, open my eyes to my sins; let me not judge my neighbors, let me reverence thee always." not until the end of the service did the choir sing something very sweet in a minor key. child though i was, i left the church with a sense of the vanity of earthly things. i was ready to repent. i particularly remembered a day when i had taken a stick and hit my dog, poor dear manjur. this, i told myself, i must confess, and also how often i had teased my baby sister. on the night of confession, when, after a very long wait, my turn came, i found myself before a priest whose long beard made his face remind me of pictures of prophets that i had seen. it was very late, and he looked tired, but his eyes shone with sympathy as he listened to my brief recital. i was so overcome with weariness[ ] when i reached home that i threw myself, supperless and partly dressed, on my bed and at once fell asleep. i awoke very hungry next morning and after washing, hurried to the table where breakfast usually awaited me. the table was empty and all the people in the room were dressed in their sunday clothes. "get ready quickly," said my father, "to come with us to church." "but can't i have some bread and tea first?" i asked. "no, indeed," said my father sternly. "you must not drink even a drop of water between confession and the taking of the sacrament." "a drop of water!" i repeated in confusion. for it had happened that i had swallowed a drop when washing that morning. this troubled me until later the priest assured me that that did not count, since it had been involuntary. i went to church with my stomach groaning for food. this, and the incense-laden air, caused me to feel faint until at last with many others, i received my share of the consecrated bread and wine. this somewhat revived me, and i looked around with more interest at the people near by. there were several persons of note in the church, some in government uniforms with numerous medals on their breasts. mongalov and his cossack officers were among these, dressed in entirely new uniforms, but without fire-arms or ammunition, even their swords being detached and kept for them by outsiders until they had partaken of the sacrament. when we came back to my aunt's i found many preparations already made for the easter festival. the big dining-table had been much enlarged. it was covered with a white cloth and decorated with flowers and greens. on it were all kinds of attractive food. i was most impressed by what the russians call _pashka_. it was in the shape of a pyramid and had been made by my aunt from cottage cheese, mixed with cream, sugar, and raisins. on it were figures of the cross. on each side of the _pashka_, which occupied the center of the table, was an entire ham baked in dough, several dozen eggs covered with various bright designs, and many other things. to my great disappointment, nobody was allowed to touch even a bit of bread. everything had to wait for easter morn. i was told that i should be awakened that night, and i was by the solemn ringing of the heaviest bells in the neighborhood. we dressed hastily and hurried to the church for the midnight service. there were so many already there that we had difficulty in entering. everybody looked happy, even the priests who were all dressed in white, silvery robes. when the service was over there was much kissing, every one repeating, "christ is risen," or the response, "he is risen indeed." it was almost four o'clock before we returned home with two or three guests who had been invited to break the fast with us. before any other food was served, small pieces of consecrated _pashka_ and an easter cake called _kulich_ were passed around. the next day was spent by the men in paying calls to all whom they knew. as they had to eat and drink at every house, the result can be imagined. the easter celebration lasted a full week. what i liked best about it was the merry rolling of eggs down hill, the swings, enormous slides and see-saws, and other amusements provided for the children. at last the joyous time came to an end, and after a last breakfast with dimitri in the dining-room of the second platoon, father and i mounted our horses for home. it seemed very long to me since i had come away. i thought several times of peter and wondered if i could not show him some of the tricks of the _jigatovka_. when we neared our village, i sat very proud and erect with my mind quite made up that mother would surely mistake me for dimitri. but as we rode into our yard, instead of anything like that happening, mother came running out and throwing her arms about me exclaimed: "o vanyuska,[ ] you must be tired out from your long ride. come in quickly and tell me how you ever managed for so long without your mother?" the end footnotes: [footnote : siberia is remarkably rich in minerals. it is especially famed for its gold, which is found chiefly in central and eastern siberia.] [footnote : there are no pews in orthodox russian churches. the entire congregation stands or kneels during the entire service.--the editor.] [footnote : vanka is the ordinary diminutive for ivan (john), while vanyuska is another and more affectionate diminutive.--the editor.] selections from l. c. page & company's books for young people the blue bonnet series _each large mo, cloth decorative, illustrated, per volume_ $ . =a texas blue bonnet= by caroline e. jacobs. "the book's heroine, blue bonnet, has the very finest kind of wholesome, honest, lively girlishness."--_chicago inter-ocean._ =blue bonnet's ranch party= by caroline e. jacobs and edyth ellerbeck read. "a healthy, natural atmosphere breathes from every chapter."--_boston transcript._ =blue bonnet in boston= by caroline e. jacobs and lela horn richards. "it is bound to become popular because of its wholesomeness and its many human touches."--_boston globe._ =blue bonnet keeps house= by caroline e. jacobs and lela horn richards. "it cannot fail to prove fascinating to girls in their teens."--_new york sun._ =blue bonnet--dÃ�butante= by lela horn richards. an interesting picture of the unfolding of life for blue bonnet. =blue bonnet of the seven stars= by lela horn richards. "the author's intimate detail and charm of narration gives the reader an interesting story of the heroine's war activities."--_pittsburgh leader._ the henrietta series by lela horn richards _each one volume, mo, illustrated_ $ . =only henrietta= "it is an inspiring story of the unfolding of life for a young girl--a story in which there is plenty of action to hold interest and wealth of delicate sympathy and understanding that appeals to the hearts of young and old."--_pittsburgh leader._ =henrietta's inheritance= "one of the most noteworthy stories for girls issued this season. the life of henrietta is made very real, and there is enough incident in the narrative to balance the delightful characterization."--_providence journal._ stories by i. m. b. of k. _each one volume, mo, illustrated_ $ . =the young knight= the clash of broad-sword on buckler, the twanging of bow-strings and the cracking of spears splintered by whirling maces resound through this stirring tale of knightly daring-do. =the young cavaliers= "there have been many scores of books written about the charles stuarts of england, but never a merrier and more pathetic one than 'the young cavaliers.'"--_family herald._ =the king's minstrel= "the interesting situations are numerous, and the spirit of the hero is one of courage, devotion and resource."--_columbus dispatch._ "it is told with spirit and action."--_buffalo express._ "the story will please all those who read it, and will be of particular interest for the boys for whom it was intended. it is a tale of devotion to an ideal of service and as such will appeal to youth."--_portage register-democrat._ "there is a lofty ideal throughout, some court intrigue, a smattering of the decadence of the old church heads, and a readable story."--_middletown press._ the boys' story of the railroad series by burton e. stevenson _each large mo, cloth decorative, illustrated_, $ . =the young section-hand=; or, the adventures of allan west. "the whole range of section railroading is covered in the story."--_chicago post._ =the young train dispatcher= "a vivacious account of the varied and often hazardous nature of railroad life."--_congregationalist._ =the young train master= "it is a book that can be unreservedly commended to anyone who loves a good, wholesome, thrilling, informing yarn."--_passaic news._ =the young apprentice=; or, allan west's chum. "the story is intensely interesting."--_baltimore sun._ the days of chivalry series of worth while classics for boys and girls _revised and edited for the modern reader_ _each large mo, illustrated and with a poster jacket in full color_ $ . =the days of chivalry= by w. h. davenport adams. 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"a splendid piece of work, and lovers of french history will find it most agreeable reading."--_buffalo courier and express._ barbara winthrop series by helen katherine broughall _each one volume, cloth decorative, mo, illustrated_ $ . =barbara winthrop at boarding school= "the book has pleasing spontaneity, high ideals and wholesomeness."--_new york continent._ =barbara winthrop at camp= "high ideals and a real spirit of fun underlie the story, which will be a decided addition to the bookshelves of the young girl for whom a holiday gift is contemplated."--_los angeles saturday night._ =barbara winthrop: graduate= there is in this new story gaiety and laughter, the light-heartedness of youth, with its little tragedies and a real mystery to complicate matters and make the days of barbara winthrop and her chums, peggy and jo, more alluring. a story of the highest order written by "a real girl" for girls, up-to-date in all that is helpful. doctor's little girl series by marion ames taggart _each large mo, cloth, illustrated, per volume_, $ . =the doctor's little girl= "a charming story of the ups and downs of the life of a dear little maid."--_the churchman._ =sweet nancy=: the further adventures of the doctor's little girl. "just the sort of book to amuse, while its influence cannot but be elevating."--_new york sun._ =nancy, the doctor's little partner= "the story is sweet and fascinating, such as many girls of wholesome tastes will enjoy."--_springfield union._ =nancy porter's opportunity= "nancy shows throughout that she is a splendid young woman, with plenty of pluck."--_boston globe._ =nancy and the coggs twins= "the story is refreshing."--_new york sun._ the friendly terrace series by harriet lummis smith _each one volume, cloth, decorative, mo, illustrated, per volume_ $ . =the girls of friendly terrace= "it is a book that cheers, that inspires to higher thinking; it knits hearts; it unfolds neighborhood plans in a way that makes one tingle to try carrying them out, and most of all it proves that in daily life, threads of wonderful issues are being woven in with what appears the most ordinary of material, but which in the end brings results stranger than the most thrilling fiction."--_belle kellogg towne in the young people's weekly, chicago._ =peggy raymond's vacation= "it is a clean, wholesome, hearty story, well told and full of incident. it carries one through experiences that hearten and brighten the day."--_utica, n. y., observer._ =peggy raymond's school days= "it is a bright, entertaining story, with happy girls, good times, natural development, and a gentle earnestness of general tone."--_the christian register, boston._ =the friendly terrace quartette= "the story is told in easy and entertaining style and is a most delightful narrative, especially for young people. it will also make the older readers feel younger, for while reading it they will surely live again in the days of their youth."--_troy budget._ =peggy raymond's way= "the author has again produced a story that is replete with wholesome incidents and makes peggy more lovable than ever as a companion and leader."--_world of books._ "it possesses a plot of much merit and through its pages it weaves a tale of love and of adventure which ranks it among the best books for girls."--_cohoes american._ famous leaders series by charles h. l. johnston _each large mo, cloth decorative, illustrated, per volume_ $ . =famous cavalry leaders= "more of such books should be written, books that acquaint young readers with historical personages in a pleasant, informal way."--_new york sun._ =famous indian chiefs= "mr. johnston has done faithful work in this volume, and his relation of battles, sieges and struggles of these famous indians with the whites for the possession of america is a worthy addition to united states history."--_new york marine journal._ =famous scouts= "it is the kind of a book that will have a great fascination for boys and young men."--_new london day._ =famous privateersmen and adventurers of the sea= "the tales are more than merely interesting; they are entrancing, stirring the blood with thrilling force."--_pittsburgh post._ =famous frontiersmen and heroes of the border= "the accounts are not only authentic, but distinctly readable, making a book of wide appeal to all who love the history of actual adventure."--_cleveland leader._ =famous discoverers and explorers of america= "the book is an epitome of some of the wildest and bravest adventures of which the world has known."--_brooklyn daily eagle._ =famous generals of the great war= who led the united states and her allies to a glorious victory. "the pages of this book have the charm of romance without its unreality. the book illuminates, with life-like portraits, the history of the world war."--_rochester post express._ by edwin wildman =the founders of america= (=lives of great americans from the revolution to the monroe doctrine=) =the builders of america= (=lives of great americans from the monroe doctrine to the civil war=) "how can one become acquainted with the histories of some of the famous men of the united states? a very good way is to read these books by edwin wildman, wherein the life stories of fifteen men who founded our country are told."--_new york post._ =famous leaders of character= (=lives of great americans from the civil war to today=) ". . . is a book that should be read by every boy in the whole country. . . ."--_atlanta constitution._ =famous leaders of industry.--first series= "are these stories interesting? let a boy read them; and tell you."--_boston transcript._ =famous leaders of industry.--second series= "these biographies drive home the truth that just as every soldier of napoleon carried a marshal's baton in his knapsack, so every american youngster carries potential success under his hat."--_new york world._ by charles lee lewis _professor, united states naval academy, annapolis_ =famous american naval officers= =with a complete index.= "in connection with the life of john paul jones, stephen decatur, and other famous naval officers, he groups the events of the period in which the officer distinguished himself, and combines the whole into a colorful and stirring narrative."--_boston herald._ stories by evaleen stein _each one volume, mo, illustrated_ $ . =the christmas porringer= this story happened many hundreds of years ago in the quaint flemish city of bruges and concerns a little girl named karen. =gabriel and the hour book= "no works in juvenile fiction contain so many of the elements that stir the hearts of children and grown-ups as well as do the stories so admirably told by this author."--_louisville daily courier._ =a little shepherd of provence= "the story should be one of the influences in the life of every child to whom good stories can be made to appeal."--_public ledger._ =the little count of normandy= "this touching and pleasing story is told with a wealth of interest coupled with enlivening descriptions of the country where its scenes are laid."--_wilmington every evening._ =when fairies were friendly= "the stories are music in prose--they are like pearls on a chain of gold--each word seems exactly the right word in the right place; the stories sing themselves out, they are so beautifully expressed."--_the lafayette leader._ =pepin: a tale of twelfth night= "a creation almost as perfect as her 'christmas porringer.'"--_lexington herald._ =children's stories= "the stories are light and fanciful and worthy of a place beside grimm and hans andersen in the child's library."--_cincinnati post._ minute boys series by james otis and edward stratemeyer _each one volume, cloth decorative, mo, fully illustrated, per volume_ $ . this series of books for boys needs no recommendation. we venture to say that there are few boys of any age in this broad land who do not know and love both these authors and their stirring tales. these books, as shown by their titles, deal with periods in the history of the development of our great country which are of exceeding interest to every patriotic american boy--and girl. places and personages of historical interest are here presented to the young reader in story form, and a great deal of real information is unconsciously gathered. =the minute boys of philadelphia= =the minute boys of boston= =the minute boys of new york city= =the minute boys of long island= =the minute boys of south carolina= =the minute boys of the wyoming valley= =the minute boys of the mohawk valley= =the minute boys of the green mountains= =the minute boys of bunker hill= =the minute boys of lexington= =the minute boys of yorktown= the young pioneer series by harrison adams _each mo, cloth decorative, illustrated, per volume_ $ . =the pioneer boys of the ohio=; or, clearing the wilderness. "such books as this are an admirable means of stimulating among the young americans of to-day interest in the story of their pioneer ancestors and the early days of the republic."--_boston globe._ =the pioneer boys on the great lakes=; or, on the trail of the iroquois. "the recital of the daring deeds of the frontier is not only interesting but instructive as well."--_american tourist, chicago._ =the pioneer boys of the mississippi=; or, the homestead in the wilderness. "the story is told with spirit, and is full of adventure."--_new york sun._ =the pioneer boys of the missouri=; or, in the country of the sioux. "vivid in style, vigorous in movement, full of dramatic situations, true to historic perspective, this story is a capital one for boys."--_watchman examiner._ =the pioneer boys of the yellowstone=; or, lost in the land of wonders. "there is plenty of lively adventure and action and the story is well told."--_duluth herald._ =the pioneer boys of the columbia=; or, in the wilderness of the great northwest. "the story is full of spirited action and contains much valuable historical information."--_boston herald._ =the pioneer boys of the colorado=; or, braving the perils of the grand canyon country. "the story is written by a fine storyteller. it makes instructive and inspiring reading for boys."--_new bedford standard._ hildegarde-margaret series by laura e. richards eleven volumes the hildegarde-margaret series, beginning with "queen hildegarde" and ending with "the merryweathers," make one of the best and most popular series of books for girls ever written. _each large mo, cloth decorative, illustrated, per volume_ $ . _the eleven volumes boxed as a set_ $ . list of titles =queen hildegarde= =hildegarde's holiday= =hildegarde's home= =hildegarde's neighbors= =hildegarde's harvest= =three margarets= =margaret montfort= =peggy= =rita= =fernley house= =the merryweathers= honor bright series by laura e. richards _each one volume, cloth decorative, mo, illustrated_ $ . =honor bright= "this is a story that rings as true and honest as the name of the young heroine--honor--and not only the young girls, but the old ones will find much to admire and to commend in the beautiful character of honor."--_constitution, atlanta, ga._ =honor bright's new adventure= "girls will love the story and it has plot enough to interest the older reader as well."--_st. louis daily globe-democrat._ delightful books for little folks by laura e. richards =three minute stories= _cloth decorative, mo, with eight plates in full color and many text illustrations_ $ . "little ones will understand and delight in the stories and poems."--_indianapolis news._ =five minute stories= _cloth decorative, square mo, illustrated_ $ . a charming collection of short stories and clever poems for children. =more five minute stories= _cloth decorative, square mo, illustrated_ $ . a noteworthy collection of short stories and poems for children, which will prove as popular with mothers as with boys and girls. the little colonel books (trade mark) by annie fellows johnston _each large mo, cloth, illustrated, per volume_ $ . =the little colonel stories= (trade mark) being three "little colonel" stories in the cosy corner series, "the little colonel," "two little knights of kentucky," and "the giant scissors," in a single volume. =the little colonel's house party= (trade mark) =the little colonel's holidays= (trade mark) =the little colonel's hero= (trade mark) =the little colonel at boarding-school= (trade mark) =the little colonel in arizona= (trade mark) =the little colonel's christmas vacation= (trade mark) =the little colonel, maid of honor= (trade mark) =the little colonel's knight comes riding= (trade mark) =the little colonel's chum, mary ware= (trade mark) =mary ware in texas= =mary ware's promised land= _these twelve volumes, boxed as a set, $ . ._ =the road of the loving heart= _cloth decorative, with special designs and illustrations_ $ . in choosing her title, mrs. johnston had in mind "the road of the loving heart," that famous highway, built by the natives of hawaii, from their settlement to the home of robert louis stevenson, as a memorial of their love and respect for the man who lived and labored among them, and whose example of a loving heart has never been forgotten. this story of a little princess and her faithful pet bear, who finally do discover "the road of the loving heart," is a masterpiece of sympathy and understanding and beautiful thought. the johnston jewel series _each small mo, decorative boards, per volume_ $ . =in the desert of waiting=: the legend of camelback mountain. =the three weavers=: a fairy tale for fathers and mothers as well as for their daughters. =keeping tryst=: a tale of king arthur's time. =the legend of the bleeding heart= =the rescue of princess winsome=: a fairy play for old and young. =the jester's sword= =the little colonel's good times book= uniform in size with the little colonel series $ . bound in white kid (morocco) and gold . cover design and decorations by peter verberg. "a mighty attractive volume in which the owner may record the good times she has on decorated pages, and under the directions as it were of annie fellows johnston."--_buffalo express._ * * * * * transcriber's notes: puntuation repaired. text uses both ivanovich and ivanovitch once for the same person, pavel. [transcriber's note] page numbers in this book are indicated by numbers enclosed in curly braces, e.g. { }. they have been located where page breaks occurred in the original book. section titles which appear with the odd page numbers in the original text have been placed before the referenced paragraph in square brackets. [end transcriber's notes] travels in central asia london printed by spottiswoode and co. new-street square [illustration] dervishes at bokhara. travels in central asia being the account of a journey from teheran across the turkoman desert on the eastern shore of the caspian to khiva, bokhara, and samarcand performed in the year by arminius vÁmbÉry member of the hungarian academy of pesth, by whom he was sent on this scientific mission london john murray, albemarle street to major-general sir henry rawlinson, k.c.b. the investigator of the ancient history of the east, and yielding to none in his knowledge of the present condition of central asia, _in token of admiration and gratitude_ the following pages are dedicated a. vÁmbÉry. preface. i was born in hungary in , in the small town of duna szerdahely, situated on one of the largest islands in the danube. impelled by a particular inclination to linguistic science, i had in early youth occupied myself with several languages of europe and asia. the various stores of oriental and western literature were in the first instance the object of my eager study. at a later period i began to interest myself in the reciprocal relations of the languages themselves; and here it is not surprising if i, in applying the proverb 'nosce teipsum,' directed my principal attention to the affinities and to the origin of my own mother-tongue. that the hungarian language belongs to the stock called altaic is well known, but whether it is to be referred to the finnish or the tartaric branch is a question that still awaits decision. this enquiry, interesting [footnote ] to us hungarians both in a scientific and {viii} a national point of view, was the principal and the moving cause of my journey to the east. i was desirous of ascertaining, by the practical study of the living languages, the positive degree of affinity which had at once struck me as existing between the hungarian and the turco-tartaric dialects when contemplating them by the feeble light which theory supplied. i went first to constantinople. several years' residence in turkish houses, and frequent visits to islamite schools and libraries, soon transformed me into a turk--nay, into an efendi. the progress of my linguistic researches impelled me further towards the remote east; and when i proposed to carry out my views by actually undertaking a journey to central asia, i found it advisable to retain this character of efendi, and to visit the east as an oriental. [footnote : the opinion consequently that we hungarians go to asia to seek there those of our race who were left behind, is erroneous. such an object, the carrying out of which, both from ethnographical as well as philological reasons, would be an impossibility, would render a man amenable to the charge of gross ignorance. we are desirous of knowing the etymological construction of our language, and therefore seek exact information from cognate idioms.] the foregoing observations will explain the object which i proposed to myself in my wanderings from the bosphorus to samarcand. geological or astronomical researches were out of my province, and had even become an impossibility from my assumption of the character of a dervish. my attention was for the most part directed to the races inhabiting central asia, of whose social and political relations, character, usages, and customs i have striven, however imperfectly, to give a sketch in the following {ix} pages. although, as far as circumstances and my previous avocations permitted, i allowed nothing that concerned geography and statistics to escape me, still i must regard the results of my philological researches as the principal fruits of my journey. these i am desirous, after maturer preparation, to lay before the scientific world. these researches, and not the facts recorded in the present pages, must ever be regarded by me as the real reward of a journey in which i wandered about for months and months with only a few rags as my covering, without necessary food, and in constant peril of perishing by a death of cruelty, if not of torture. i may be reproached with too much limiting my views, but where a certain object is proposed we should not lose sight of the principle, 'non omnia possumus omnes.' a stranger on the field to which the publication of this narrative has introduced me, i feel my task doubly difficult in a land like england, where literature is so rich in books of travels. my design was to record plainly and simply what i heard and saw, whilst the impression still remained fresh on my mind. i doubt much whether i have succeeded, and beg the kind indulgence of the public. readers and critics may find many errors, and the light that i may throw upon particular points may be accounted too small a compensation for the hardships i actually encountered; but i entreat them not to forget that i return from a country where to hear is regarded as impudence, to ask as crime, and to take notes as a deadly sin. {x} so much for the grounds and purposes of my journey. with respect to the arrangement of these pages, in order that there may be no interruption, i have divided the book into two parts; the first containing the description of my journey from teheran to samarcand and back, the second devoted to notices concerning the geography, statistics, politics, and social relations of central asia. i hope that both will prove of equal interest to the reader; for whilst on the one hand i pursued routes hitherto untrodden by any european, my notices relate to subjects hitherto scarcely, if at all, touched on by writers upon central asia. and now let me perform the more pleasing task of expressing my warm acknowledgments to all those whose kind reception of me when i arrived in london has been a great furtherance and encouragement to the publication of the following narrative. before all let me mention the names of sir justin and lady sheil. in their house i found english open-heartedness associated with oriental hospitality; their kindness will never be forgotten by me. nor are my obligations less to the nestor of geological science, the president of the royal geographical society, sir roderick murchison; to that great oriental scholar, viscount strangford; and to mr. layard, m.p., under-secretary of state. in central asia i bestowed blessing for kindness received; here i have but words, they are sincere and come from the heart. a. vÁmbÉry. london: september , . {xi} contents. part i. chapter i.--page travelling in persia sleep on horseback teheran reception at the turkish embassy turkey and persia ferrukh khan's visit to europe war between dost mohammed khan and sultan ahmed khan excursion to shiraz chapter ii. page return to teheran relief of sunnites, dervishes, and hadjis at the turkish embassy author becomes acquainted with a karavan of tartar hadjis returning from mecca the different routes the author determines to join the hadjis hadji bilal introduction of author to his future travelling companions route through the yomuts and the great desert decided upon chapter iii.--page departure from teheran in north-easterly direction the component members of karavan described ill-feeling of shiites towards the sunnite hadjis mazendran zirab heften tigers and jackals sari karatepe {xii} chapter iv.--page karatepe author entertained by an afghan, nur-ullah suspicions as to his dervish character hadjis provision themselves for journey through desert afghan colony nadir shah first view of the caspian yacoub the turkoman boatman love talisman embarkation for ashourada voyage on the caspian russian part of ashourada russian war steamers in the caspian turkoman chief, in the service of russia apprehension of discovery on the author's part arrival at gömüshtepe and at the mouth of the gorghen. chapter v.--page arrival at gömüshtepe, hospitable reception of the hadjis khandjan ancient greek wall influence of the ulemas first brick mosque of the nomads tartar raids persian slaves excursion to the north-east of gömüshtepe tartar fiancée and banquet, etc. preparation of the khan of khiva's kervanbashi for the journey through the desert line of camels ilias beg, the hirer of camels arrangements with khulkhan turkoman expedition to steal horses in persia its return. chapter vi.--page departure from gömüshtepe character of our late host turkoman mounds or tombs disagreeable adventure with wild boars plateau to the north of gömüshtepe nomad habits turkoman hospitality the last goat persian slave commencement of the desert a turkoman wife and slave etrek persian slaves russian sailor slave proposed alliance between yomuts and tekke rendezvous with the kervanbashi tribe kem adieu to etrek afghan makes mischief description of karavan. {xiii} chapter vii.--page kervanbashi insists that author should take no notes eid mehemmed and his brother's noble conduct guide loses his way körentaghi, ancient ruins, probably greek little and great balkan ancient bed of the oxus vendetta sufferings from thirst. chapter viii.--page thunder gazelles and wild asses arrival at the plateau kaftankir ancient bed of oxus friendly encampment approach of horsemen gazavat entry into khiva malicious charge by afghan interview with khan author required to give specimen of turkish penmanship robes of honour estimated by human heads horrible execution of prisoners peculiar execution of women kungrat author's last benediction of the khan. chapter ix.--page from khiva to bokhara. departure from khiva for bokhara ferry across the oxus great heat shurakhan market singular dialogue with kirghis woman on nomadic life tünüklü alaman of the tekke karavan alarmed returns to tünüklü forced to throw itself into the desert, 'destroyer of life' thirst death of camels death of a hadji stormy wind precarious state of author hospitable reception amongst persian slaves first impression of bokhara the noble. chapter x.--page bokhara reception at the tekkie, the chief nest of islamism rahmet bi bazaars baha-ed-din, great saint of turkestan spies set upon author fate of recent travellers in bokhara book bazaar the worm (rishte) water supply late and present emirs harem, government, family of reigning emir slave depot and trade departure from bokhara, and visit to the tomb of baha-ed-din. {xiv} chapter xi.--page bokhara to samarcand little desert of chöl melik animation of road owing to war first view of samarcand haszreti shah zinde mosque of timour citadel (ark) reception hall of timour köktash or timour's throne singular footstool timour's sepulchre and that of his preceptor author visits the actual tomb of timour in the souterrain folio koran ascribed to osman, mohammed's secretary colleges ancient observatory greek armenian library not, as pretended, carried off by timour architecture of public buildings not chinese but persian modern samarcand its population dehbid author decides to return arrival of emir author's interview with him parting from the hadjis, and departure from samarcand. chapter xii.--page samarcand to karshi through desert nomads karshi, the ancient nakhseb trade and manufacture kerki oxus author charged with being runaway slave ersari turkomans mezari sherif belkh author joins karavan from bokhara slavery zeid andkhuy yeketut khairabad maymene akkale. chapter xiii.--page maymene its political position and importance reigning prince rivalry of bokhara and kabul dost mohammed khan ishan eyub and mollah khalmurad khanat and fortress of maymene escaped russian offenders murgab river and bala murgab djemshidi and afghan ruinous taxes on merchandise kalè no hezare afghan exactions and maladministration. {xv} chapter xiv.--page herat. herat its ruinous state bazaar author's destitute condition the serdar mehemmed yakoub khan parade of afghan troops interview with serdar conduct of afghans on storming herat nazir naim the vizir embarrassed state of revenue major todd mosalla, and tomb of sultan husein mirza tomb of khodja abdullah ansari, and of dost mohammed khan. chapter xv.--page from herat to london. author joins karavan for meshed kuhsun, last afghan town false alarm from wild asses debatable ground between afghan and persian territory bifurcation of route yusuf khan hezareh ferimon colonel dolmage prince sultan murad mirza author avows who he is to the serdar of herat shahrud teheran, and welcome there by the turkish charge d' affaires, ismael efendi kind reception by mr. alison and the english embassy interview with the shah the kavvan ud dowlet and the defeat at merv return by trebisond and constantinople to pesth author leaves the khiva mollah behind him at pesth and proceeds to london his welcome in the last-named city. part ii. chapter xvi.--page the turkomans. boundaries and division of tribes neither rulers nor subjects deb islam change introduced by latter only external influence of mollahs construction of nomad tents alaman, how conducted persian cowardice turkoman poets troubadours simple marriage ceremonies horses mounds, how and when formed mourning for dead turkoman descent general points connected with the history of the turkomans their present political and geographical importance. {xvi} chapter xvii.--page the city of khiva. khiva, the capital principal divisions, gates, and quarters of the city bazaars mosques medresse or colleges; how founded, organised, and endowed police khan and his government taxes tribunals khanat canals political divisions produce manufactures and trade particular routes khanat, how peopled ozbegs turkomans karakalpak kasak (kirghis) sart persians history of khiva in fifteenth century khans and their genealogy. chapter xviii.--page the city of bokhara. city of bokhara, its gates, quarters, mosques, colleges one founded by czarina catherine founded as seminaries not of learning but fanaticism bazaars police system severer than elsewhere in asia the khanat of bokhara inhabitants: ozbegs, tadjiks, kirghis, arabs, mervi, persians, hindoos, jews government different officials political divisions army summary of the history of bokhara. chapter xix.--page khanat of khokand. inhabitants division khokand tashkend khodjend morgolan endidjan hazreti turkestana oosh political position recent wars. chapter xx.--page chinese tartary. approach from west administration inhabitants--cities. chapter xxi.--page communication of central asia with russia, persia, and india routes in the three khanats and chinese tartary. {xvii} chapter xxii.--page general view of agriculture, manufactures, and trade. agriculture different kinds of horses sheep camels asses manufactures, principal seats of trade commercial ascendancy of russia in central asia. chapter xxiii.--page internal and external political relations of central asia. internal relations between bokhara, khiva, and khokand external relations with turkey, persia, china, and russia. chapter xxiv.--page the rivalry of the russians and english in central asia. attitude of russia and england towards central asia progress of russia on the jaxartes. {xviii} list of illustrations. dervishes at bokhara--frontispiece reception by turkoman chief on the caspian shore-- intruding upon the haunts of the wild boar-- wild man in the desert-- receiving payment for human heads--khiva-- the ferry across the oxus-- tebbad--sand storm in the desert-- entry of the emir into samarcand-- 'i swear you are an englishman!'-- tent in central asia-- tartar horse race--pursuit of a bride (kokburi)-- market on horseback--amongst the Özbegs-- map of central asia, showing author's route--at the end { } travels in central asia chapter i. travelling in persia sleep on horseback teheran reception at the turkish embassy turkey and persia ferrukh khan's visit to europe war between dost mohammed khan and sultan ahmed khan excursion to shiraz. _je marchais, et mes compagnons flottaient comme des branches par l'effet du sommeil.--victor hugo, from omaïah ben aiëdz_. [travelling in persia] whoever has travelled through persia in the middle of july will sympathise with me when i say how glad i felt at having got through the district that extends from tabris to teheran. it is a distance of only fifteen, or perhaps we may rather say of only thirteen karavan stations: still, it is fearfully fatiguing, when circumstances compel one to toil slowly from station to station under a scorching sun, mounted upon a laden mule, and condemned to see nothing but such drought and barrenness as characterise almost the whole of persia. how bitter the disappointment to him who has studied persia only in saadi, khakani, and hafiz; { } or, still worse, who has received his dreamy impressions of the east from the beautiful imaginings of goethe's 'ost-westlicher divan,' or victor hugo's 'orientales,' or the magnificent picturings of tom moore! [sleep on horseback; teheran] it was not until we were about two stations from teheran, that the idea struck our djilodar [footnote ] to change our march by day into night marches. but even this expedient had its inconveniences: for the coolness of the night in persia is a great disposer to slumber; the slow pace of the animals has a composing effect, and one must really firmly cling to them, or sometimes even suffer oneself to be bound on by cords, to avoid being precipitated during one's sleep down upon the sharp flint stones below. the oriental, habituated to this constant torment, sleeps sweetly enough, whatever may be the kind of saddle, whether it be upon horse, camel, mule, or ass; and it gave me many a moment of merry enjoyment, as i contemplated the tall, lanky, long-robed persians, lying outstretched with their feet nearly touching the ground, and their heads supported upon the necks of the patient beasts. in this position the persians take their nap quite tranquilly, whilst they unconsciously pass many stations. but, at that time, necessity, the mother of invention, had not yet imparted to me the necessary experience; and whilst the greater part of my travelling companions near me, in spite of their soft slumbers, were still riding on, i was left undisturbed to the studious contemplation of the kervankusch and pervins (pleïades); and i looked with inexpressible longing to that quarter where the suheil (canopus) { } and the sitarei subh (morning star) emerging, should announce the dawn of day, the proximity of the station, and the end of our torments. what wonder that i was somewhat in the condition of a half-boiled fish, when on the th july, , i approached the capital of persia? we stopped at a distance of a couple of english miles on the banks of a stream, to let our beasts drink. the halt awakened my companions, who, still sleepily rubbing their eyes, pointed out to me how teheran was there lying before us to the north-east. i looked about me, and perceived in that direction a blue smoke rising and lengthening in long columns upwards, permitting me, however, here and there to distinguish the outline of a glittering dome, till at last, the vaporous veil having gradually disappeared, i had the enjoyment, as persians express themselves, of beholding before me, in all her naked wretchedness, the darül khilafe, or seat of sovereignty. [footnote : the same as kervanbashi; one who hires the camels, mules, asses, etc.] i made my entry through the dervaze (gate) no, and shall certainly not soon forget the obstacles amidst which i had to force my way. asses, camels, and mules laden with barley straw, and bales of persian or european merchandise, were all pressing on in the most fearful confusion, at the very entrance of the gate. drawing up my legs under me upon the saddle, and screaming out as lustily as my neighbours, 'khaberdar, khaberdar' (take care), i at last succeeded in getting into the city, though with no little trouble. i traversed the bazaar, and finally reached the palace of the turkish embassy, without having received any serious wound either by squeeze, blow, or cut. { } [reception at the turkish embassy] a native of hungary, sent by the hungarian academy upon a scientific mission to central asia, what had i to do at the turkish embassy? this will appear from the preface, to which i respectfully request my readers' attention, in spite of the prejudice condemning such introductions as tiresome and unnecessary. with haydar efendi, who then represented the porte at the persian court, i had been already acquainted at constantinople. he had previously filled similar functions at st. petersburg and at paris. but, notwithstanding my being personally known to him, i was bearer also of letters from his most esteemed friends; and, counting upon the oft-proved hospitality of the turks, i felt sure of meeting with a good reception. i consequently regarded the residence of the turkish embassy as my future abode; and as these gentlemen had resorted already to their yailar or summer seat at djizer (eight english miles from teheran), i only changed my clothes, and after indulging in a few hours' repose to atone for my recent sleepless nights, i mounted an ass, hired for an excursion into the country, and in two hours found myself in the presence of the efendis, who, in a magnificent tent of silk, were just about to commence a dinner possessing in my eyes still superior magnificence and attraction. my reception, both by the ambassador and the secretaries, was of the most friendly description: room was soon found for me at the table, and in a few moments we were in deep conversation, respecting stamboul and her beautiful views, the sultan and his mode of government. ah! how refreshing in teheran is the recollection of the bosphorus! { } [turkey and persia] what wonder if, in the course of the conversation, frequent comparisons were instituted between the persian and the turkish manner of living? if one too hastily gives way to first impressions, iran, the theme of so much poetic enthusiasm, is, after all, nothing but a frightful waste; whereas turkey is really an earthly paradise. i accord to the persian all the politeness of manners, and all the readiness and vivacity of wit, that are wanting to the osmanli; but in the latter the absence of these qualities is more than compensated by an integrity and an honourable frankness not possessed by his rival. the persian can boast a poetic organisation and an ancient civilisation. the superiority of the osmanli results from the attention he is paying to the languages of europe, and his disposition gradually to acquaint himself with the progress that european savans have made in chemistry, physics, and history. our conversation was prolonged far into night. the following days were devoted to my presentation at the other european embassies. i found count gobineau, the imperial ambassador, under a small tent in a garden like a caldron, where the heat was awful. mr. alison was more comfortably quartered in his garden at gulahek, purchased for him by his government. he was very friendly. i had often the opportunity, at his hospitable table, of studying the question why the english envoys everywhere distinguish themselves amongst their diplomatic brethren, by the comfortableness as well as the splendour of their establishments. in addition to the diplomatic corps of europe, i found at that time at teheran many officers, french or italian; an austrian officer, too, of the engineers, r. von gasteiger; all of them in the service of the shah, with liberal allowances. { } these gentlemen, as i heard, were disposed to render themselves very serviceable, possessing all the requisite qualifications; but any benefit that might have resulted was entirely neutralised by the systematic want of system that existed in persia, and by the low intrigues of the persians. [ferrukh khan's visit to europe] the object of ferrukh khan's diplomatic journeys in europe was in reality to show our cabinets how much iran had it at heart to obtain admittance into the comity of states. he begged aid everywhere, that his country might have the wondrous elixir of civilisation imparted to it as rapidly as possible. all europe thought that persia was really upon the point of adopting every european custom and principle. as ferrukh khan has a long beard, wears long robes and a high hat, which give him a very earnest look, our ministers were kind enough to attach to him unlimited credit. wishing to honour a regular government in persia, troops of officers, artists, and artisans flocked to him. they went still further, and hastened to return the visits of the envoy extraordinary of the shah. in consequence we saw belgium, at no small expense, forwarding an ambassador to persia to study commercial relations, to make treaties of commerce, and to give effect to numberless other strokes of policy. he arrived, and i can scarcely imagine that his first report home could have begun with 'veni, vidi, vici,' or that he could have felt the slightest desire to pay a second visit to 'la belle perse.' next to belgium came prussia. the learned diplomatist baron von minutoli, to whom the mission was entrusted, devoted his life to it. his thirst after science impelled him to proceed to south persia; and at only two days' journey from 'heavenly shiraz,' as the persians call it, he fell a sacrifice to the pestilential air, and now { } reposes in the place last mentioned, a few paces from hafiz, and behind the baghi takht. a few days after i came, the embassy of the new kingdom of italy arrived also, consisting of twenty persons, divided into diplomatic, military, and scientific sections. the object they had in view has remained always a mystery to me. i have much to recount respecting their reception, but prefer to keep these details for a better occasion, and to busy myself more especially with the preparations i then made for my own journey. [war between dost mohammed khan and sultan ahmed khan; excursion to shiraz] by the kind offices of my friends at the turkish embassy, i was in a condition very little suited to the character of a mendicant dervish which i was about to assume: the comforts i was enjoying were heartily distasteful to me, and i should have preferred, after my ten days' repose at teheran, to proceed at once to meshed and herat, had not obstacles, long dreaded, interfered with my design. even before the date of my leaving constantinople, i had heard, by the daily press, of the war declared by dost mohammed khan against his son-in-law and former vassal at herat, sultan ahmed khan, because the latter had broken his fealty to him, and had placed himself under the suzerainty of the shah of persia. our european papers seemed to me to exaggerate the whole matter, and the story failed to excite in me the apprehensions it really ought to have done. i regarded the difficulties as unreal, and began my journey. nevertheless, here in teheran, at a distance of only thirty-two days' journey from the seat of war, i learnt from undeniable sources, to my very great regret, that the war in those parts had really broken off all communications, and that since the siege had begun, no karavan, still less any solitary { } traveller, could pass either from or to herat. persians themselves dared not venture their wares or their lives; but there would have been far more cause for apprehension in the case of a european whose foreign lineaments would, in those savage asiatic districts, even in periods of peace, be regarded by an oriental with mistrust, and must singularly displease him in time of war. the chances, indeed, seemed to be, if i ventured thither, that i should be unceremoniously massacred by the afghans. i began to realise my actual position, and convinced myself of the impossibility, for the moment, of prosecuting my journey under such circumstances; and in order not to reach, during the wintry season, bokhara, in the wastes of central asia, i immediately determined to postpone my journey till next march, when i should have the finest season of the year before me; and, perhaps, in the meantime the existing political relations, which barricaded herat, the gate of central asia, from all approach, might have ceased. it was not till the beginning of september that i became reconciled to this necessity. it will be readily understood how unpleasant it was for me to have to spend five or six months in a country possessing for me only secondary interest, and respecting which so many excellent accounts have already appeared. not, then, with any serious intention of studying persia, but rather to withdraw myself from a state of inactivity calculated to be prejudicial to my future purposes, i quitted, in a semi-dervish character, my hospitable turkish friends, and proceeded at once by ispahan to shiraz, and so obtained the enjoyment of visiting the oft-described monuments of ancient iran civilisation. { } chapter ii. return to teheran relief of sunnites, dervishes, and hadjis at the turkish embassy author becomes acquainted with a karavan of tartar hadjis returning from mecca the different routes the author determines to join the hadjis hadji bilal introduction of author to his future travelling companions route through the yomuts and the great desert decided upon. _the parthians held it as a maxim to accord no passage over their territory to any stranger_.--heeren, _manual of ancient history_. [return to teheran; relief of sunnites, dervishes, and hadjis at the turkish embassy] towards the middle of january , i found myself back in teheran, and again sharing the hospitality of my turkish benefactors. a change came over me; my hesitation was at an end, my decision was made, my preparations hastened. i resolved, even at the greatest sacrifice, to carry out my design. it is an old custom of the turkish embassy to accord a small subsidy to the hadjis and dervishes, who every year are in the habit of passing in considerable numbers through persia towards the turkish empire. this is a real act of benevolence for the poor sunnitish mendicants in persia, who do not obtain a farthing from the shiitish persians. the consequence was, that the hotel of the embassy received guests from the most remote parts of turkestan. i felt the greatest pleasure whenever i saw these ragged wild tartars enter my apartment. they had it in their power to give { } much real information respecting their country, and their conversations were of extreme importance for my philological studies. they, on their part, were astonished at my affability, having naturally no idea of the objects which i had in view. the report was soon circulated in the karavanserai, to which they resorted in their passage through, that haydar efendi, the ambassador of the sultan, has a generous heart; that reshid efendi (this was the name i had assumed) treats the dervishes as his brethren; that he is probably himself a dervish in disguise. as people entertained those notions, it was no matter of surprise to me that the dervishes who reached teheran came first to me, and then to the minister; for access to the latter was not always attainable, and now, through me, they found a ready means of obtaining their obolus, or the satisfaction of their other wishes. it was thus that in the morning of the th march four hadjis came to me with the request that i would present them to the sultan's envoy, as they wished to prefer a complaint against the persians who, on their return from mecca, at hamadan, had exacted from them the sunni tribute--an exaction not only displeasing to the shah of persia, but long since forbidden by the sultan. for here it must be remarked, that the good tartars think that the whole world ought to obey the chief of their religion, the sultan. [footnote ] [footnote : in the eyes of all the sunnites, the lawful khalife (successor) of mahomet is he who is in possession of the precious heritage, which comprises-- st, all the relics preserved in stamboul, in the hirkai seadet, e.g. the cloak, beard, and teeth of the prophet, lost by him in a combat; articles of clothing, korans, and weapons which belonged to the first four khalifs, ndly, the possession of mecca and medina, jerusalem, and other places of pilgrimage resorted to by the islamite.] { } [author becomes acquainted with a karavan of tartar hadjis returning from mecca; the different routes] 'we desire,' they say, 'from his excellency the ambassador, no money: we pray only, that for the future our sunnitish brethren may visit the holy places without molestation.' words so unselfish proceeding from the mouth of an oriental much surprised me. i scrutinised the wild features of my guests, and must avow that, barbarous as they seemed, wretched as was their clothing, i was yet able to discover in them a something of nobility, and from the first moment was prepossessed in their favour. i had a long conversation with them, to inform myself more fully respecting their companions, and the route which they had selected to go to mecca, and the one which they thought of taking after leaving teheran. the spokesman of the party was, for the most part, a hadji from chinese tartary (called also little bokhara), who had concealed his ragged dress under a new green djubbe (over-dress), and wore on his head a colossal white turban, and, by his fiery glance and quick eye, showed his superiority over the whole body of his associates. after having represented himself as the court imam of the vang (chinese governor) of aksu (a province in chinese tartary), who had twice visited the holy sepulchre--hence being twofold a hadji--he made me acquainted with his friend seated near him, and gave me to understand that the persons present were to be regarded as the chiefs of the small hadji karavan, amounting to twenty-four in all. 'our company,' said their orator, 'consists of young and old, rich and poor, men of piety, learned men and laity; still we live together with the greatest simplicity, since we are all from khokand and kashgar, and have amongst us no bokhariot, no viper of that race.' the hostility of the Özbeg (tartar) tribes of central { } asia to the tadjiks (the ancient persian inhabitants) had been long previously known to me: i listened, therefore, without making any comment, and preferred informing myself of the plan of their journey onwards. 'from teheran to our homes,' the tartars explained, 'we have four roads: viz., first, by astrakhan, orenburg, and bokhara; secondly, by meshed, herat, and bokhara; thirdly, by meshed, merv, and bokhara; fourthly, through the turkoman wilderness, khiva, and bokhara. the first two are too costly, and the war at herat is also a great obstacle; the last two, it is true, are very dangerous routes. we must, nevertheless, select one of these, and we wish, therefore, to ask your friendly counsel.' [the author determines to join the hadjis] we had now been nearly an hour in conversation. it was impossible not to like their frankness, and in spite of the singular lineaments marking their foreign origin, their wretched clothing, and the numerous traces left behind by their long and fatiguing journeys--all which lent a something forbidding to their appearance--i could not refrain from the thought. what if i journeyed with these pilgrims into central asia? as natives, they might prove my best mentors: besides, they already know me as the dervish reshid efendi, and have seen me playing that part at the turkish embassy, and are themselves on the best understanding with bokhara, the only city in central asia that i really feared from having learnt the unhappy lot of the travellers who had preceded me thither. without much hesitation, my resolution was formed. i knew i should be questioned as to the motives that actuated me in undertaking such a journey. i knew that to an oriental 'pure sang' it was impossible to assign a scientific { } object. they would have considered it ridiculous, perhaps even suspicious, for an efendi--that is, for a gentleman with a mere abstract object in view--to expose himself to so many dangers and annoyances. the oriental does not understand the thirst for knowledge, and does not believe much in its existence. it would have been the height of impolicy to shock these fanatical musselmans in their ideas. the necessity of my position, therefore, obliged me to resort to a measure of policy, of deception, which i should otherwise have scrupled to adopt. it was at once flattering to my companions, and calculated to promote the design i had in view. i told them, for instance, that i had long silently, but earnestly, desired to visit turkestan (central asia), not merely to see the only source of islamite virtue that still remained undefiled, but to behold the saints of khiva, bokhara, and samarcand. it was this idea, i assured them, that had brought me hither out of roum (turkey). i had now been waiting a year in persia, and i thanked god for having at last granted me fellow-travellers, such as they were (and i here pointed to the tartars), with whom i might proceed on my way and accomplish my wish.' [hadji bilal] when i had finished my speech, the good tartars seemed really surprised, but they soon recovered from their amazement, and remarked that they were now perfectly certain of what they before only suspected, my being a dervish. it gave them, they said, infinite pleasure that i should regard them as worthy of the friendship that the undertaking so distant and perilous a journey in their company implied. 'we are all ready not only to become your friends, but your servants,' said hadji bilal (such was the name of their { } orator above mentioned); 'but we must still draw your attention to the fact that the routes in turkestan are not as commodious nor as safe as those in persia and in turkey. on that which we shall take, travellers meet often for weeks with no house, no bread, not even a drop of water to drink; they incur, besides, the risk of being killed, or taken prisoners and sold, or of being buried alive under storms of sand. ponder well, efendi, the step! you may have occasion later to rue it, and we would by no means wish to be regarded as the cause of your misfortune. before all things, you must not forget that our countrymen at home are far behind us in experience and worldly knowledge, and that, in spite of all their hospitality, they invariably regard strangers from afar with suspicion: and how, besides, will you be able without us and alone to perform that great return journey?' that these words produced a great impression it is easy to imagine, but they did not shake me in my purpose. i made light of the apprehensions of my friends, recounted to them how i had borne former fatigues, how i felt averse to all earthly comforts, and particularly to those frankish articles of attire of which we would have to make a sacrifice. 'i know,' i said, 'that this world on earth resembles an hotel, [footnote ] in which we merely take up our quarters for a few days, and whence we soon move away to make room for others, and i laugh at the musselmans of the present time who take heed not merely for the moment but for ten years of onward existence. yes, dear friend, take me with you; i must hasten away from this horrid kingdom of error, for i am too weary of it.' [footnote : mihmankhanei pendjruzi, 'a five days' hostelry,' is the name employed by the philosophers of the east to signify this earthly abode.] { } my entreaties prevailed; they could not resist me: i was consequently immediately chosen by the chiefs of the dervish karavan as a fellow-traveller: we embraced and kissed. in performing this ceremony, i had, it is true, some feeling of aversion to struggle against. i did not like such close contact with those clothes and bodies impregnated with all kinds of odours. still, my affair was settled. it only now remained for me to see my benefactor, haydar efendi, to communicate to him my intentions, ask him for his recommendation to the hadjis, whom i proposed immediately to present to him. i counted, of course, at first upon meeting with great opposition, and accordingly i was styled a lunatic who wanted to journey to a place from which few who had preceded me had returned; nor was i, they said, content with that, but i must take for my guides men who for the smallest coin would destroy me. then they drew me the most terrifying pictures; but, seeing that all efforts to divert me from my plans were fruitless, they began to counsel me, and in earnest to consider how they could be of service in my enterprise. haydar efendi received the hadjis, spoke to them of my design in the same style as i had used, and recommended me to their hospitality, with the remark that they might look for a return for any service rendered by them to an efendi, a servant of the sultan, now entrusted to their charge. at this interview i was not present, but i was informed that they promised the faithful performance of their engagement. { } the reader will see how well my worthy friends kept their promise, and how the protection of the excellent envoy of turkey was the means of saving my life so often threatened, and that it was always the good faith of my pilgrim companions that rescued me from the most critical positions. in the course of conversation, i was told that haydar efendi, when bokhara came under discussion, expressed his disapprobation of the policy of the emir. [footnote ] he afterwards demanded the entire list of all the poor travellers, to whom he gave about fifteen ducats--a magnificent donation to these people, who sought no greater luxury in the world than bread and water. [footnote : emir is a title given to the sovereign of bokhara, whereas the princes of khiva and khokand are styled khans. ] [introduction of author to his future travelling companions] it was fixed that we should begin our journey a week later. in the interval, hadji bilal alone visited me, which he did very frequently, presenting to me his countrymen from aksu yarkend and kashgar. they looked to me, indeed, rather like adventurers, dreadfully disfigured, than pious pilgrims. he expressed especial interest in his adopted son, abdul kadér, a bumpkin of the age of twenty-five years, whom he recommended to me as 'famulus.' 'he is,' said hadji bilal, 'a faithful fellow: although awkward, he may learn much from you; make use of him during your journey; he will bake bread and make tea for you, occupations that he very well understands.' hadji bilal's real object, however, was not merely that he should bake my bread, but help me to eat it; for he had with him a second adopted son on the journey, and the two, with appetites sharpened by their wanderings on foot, were too heavy a burthen upon the resources of my friend. i promised to accede to their request, and they were accordingly delighted. to { } say the truth, the frequent visits of hadji bilal had made me a little suspicious: for i readily thought this man supposes that in me he has had a good catch, he takes a great deal of trouble to get me with him; he dreads my not carrying out my intentions. but no, i dare not, i will not think ill of him; and so to convince him of my unbounded confidence, i showed the little sum of money that i was taking with me for the expenses of the journey, and begged him to instruct me as to what mien, dress, and manners i ought to assume to make myself as much as possible like my travelling companions, in order that by doing so i might escape unceasing observation. this request of mine was very agreeable to him, and it is easy to conceive how singular a schooling i then received. before all things he counselled me to shave my head, and exchange my then turkish-european costume for one of bokhara; as far as possible to dispense with bedclothes, linen, and all such articles of luxury. i followed exactly his direction, and my equipment, being of a very modest nature, was very soon made; and three days before the appointed day i stood ready prepared for my great adventure. in the meantime i went one day to the karavanserai, where my travelling companions were quartered, to return their visit. they occupied two little cells; in one were fourteen, in the other ten persons. they seemed to me dens filled with filth and misery. that impression will never leave me. few had adequate means to proceed with their journey; for the majority their beggar's staff was the sole resource. i found them engaged in an occupation of the toilette which i will not offend the reader by recording, although { } the necessity of the case obliged me myself later to resort to it. [route through the yomuts and the great desert decided upon.] they gave me the heartiest reception, offered me green tea, and i had to go through the torture of drinking without sugar a large bokhariot bowl of the greenish water. worse still, they wished to insist upon my swallowing a second; but i begged to be excused. i was now permitted even to embrace my new associates; by each i was saluted as a brother; and after having broken bread with them individually, we sat down in a circle in order to take counsel as to the route to be chosen. as i before remarked, we had the choice between two; both perilous, and traversing the desert home of the turkomans, the only difference being that of the tribes through which they pass. the way by meshed, merv, and bokhara was the shortest, but would entail the necessity of proceeding through the midst of the tekke tribes, the most savage of all the turkomans, who spare no man, and who would not hesitate to sell into slavery the prophet himself, did he fall into their hands. on the other route are the yomut turkomans, an honest, hospitable people. still that would necessitate a passage of forty stations through the desert, without a single spring of sweet drinking water. after some observations had been made, the route through the yomuts, the great desert, khiva, and bokhara was selected. 'it is better, my friends, to battle against the wickedness of the elements than against that of men. god is gracious, we are on his way; he will certainly not abandon us.' to seal their determination, hadji bilal invoked a blessing, and whilst he was speaking we all raised our hands in the air, and when he came to an end every one seized his beard and said aloud, 'amen!' we rose from { } our seats, and they told me to make my appearance there two days after, early in the morning, to take our departure together. i returned home, and during these two days i had a severe and a violent struggle with myself. i thought of the dangers that encircled my way, of the fruits that my travels might produce. i sought to probe the motives that actuated me, and to judge whether they justified my daring; but i was like one bewitched and incapable of reflection. in vain did men try to persuade me that the mask they bore alone prevented me from perceiving the real depravity of my new associates; in vain did they seek to deter me by the unfortunate fate of conolly, stoddart, and moorcroft, with the more recent mishaps of blôcqueville, who fell into the hands of the turkomans, and who was only redeemed from slavery by the payment of , ducats: their cases i only regarded as accidental, and they inspired me with little apprehension. i had only one misgiving, whether i had enough physical strength to endure the hardships arising from the elements, unaccustomed food, bad clothing, without the shelter of a roof, and without any change of attire by night; and how then should i with my lameness be able to journey on foot, i, who was liable to be tired so soon? and here for me was the chief hazard and risk of my adventure. need i say which side in this mental struggle gained the victory? the evening previous i bade adieu to my friends at the turkish embassy; the secret of the journey was entrusted but to two; and whereas the european residents believed i was going to meshed, i left teheran to continue my course in the direction of astrabad and the caspian sea. { } chapter iii. departure from teheran in north-easterly direction the component members of karavan described ill-feeling of shiites towards the sunnitish hadjis mazendran zirab heften tigers and jackals sari karatepe. _beyond the caspian's iron gates._--moore. [ departure from teheran in north-easterly direction] on the morning of the th march, , at an early hour, i proceeded to our appointed rendezvous, the karavanserai. those of my friends whose means permitted them to hire a mule or an ass as far as the persian frontiers were ready booted and spurred for their journey; those who had to toil forwards on foot had on already their jaruk (a covering for the feet appropriate for infantry), and seemed, with their date-wood staves in their hands, to await with great impatience the signal for departure. to my great amazement, i saw that the wretched clothing which they wore at teheran was really their city, that is, their best holiday costume. this they did not use on ordinary occasions; every one had now substituted his real travelling dress, consisting of a thousand rags fastened round the loins by a cord. yesterday i regarded myself in my clothing as a beggar; to-day, in the midst of them, i was a king in his royal robes. at last hadji bilal raised his hand for the parting benediction; { } and hardly had every one seized his beard to say 'amen,' when the pedestrians rushed out of the gate, hastening with rapid strides to get the start of us who were mounted. our march was directed towards the north-east from teheran to sari, which we were to reach in eight stations. we turned therefore towards djadjerud and firuzkuh, leaving taushantepe, the little hunting-seat of the king, on our left; and were, in an hour, at the entrance of the mountainous pass where one loses sight of the plain and city of teheran. by an irresistible impulse i turned round. the sun was already, to use an oriental expression, a lance high; and its beams illuminated, not teheran alone, but the distant gilded dome of shah abdul azim. at this season of the year, nature in teheran already assumes all her green luxuriance; and i must confess that the city, which the year before had made so disagreeable an impression upon me, appeared to me now dazzlingly beautiful. this glance of mine was an adieu to the last outpost of european civilisation. i had now to confront the extremes of savageness and barbarism. i felt deeply moved; and that my companions might not remark my emotion, i turned my horse aside into the mountainous defile. in the meantime my companions were beginning to recite aloud passages from the koran, and to chant telkins (hymns), as is seemly for genuine pilgrims to do. they excused me from taking part in these, as they knew that the roumis (osmanli) were not so strictly and religiously educated as the people in turkestan; and they besides hoped that i should receive the necessary inspiration by contact with their society. i followed them at a slow pace, and will { } now endeavour to give a description of them, for the double motive that we are to travel so long together and that they are in reality the most honest people i shall ever meet with in those parts. there were, then, [the component members of karavan described] . _hadji bilal_, from aksu (chinese tartary), and court iman of the chinese musselman governor of the same province: with him were his adopted sons, . _hadji isa_, a lad in his sixteenth year; and . _hadji abdul kader_, before mentioned, in the company, and so to say under the protection, of hadji bilal. there were besides, . _hadji yusuf_, a rich chinese tartar peasant; with his nephew, . _hadji ali_, a lad in his tenth year, with little, diminutive, kirghish eyes. the last two had eighty ducats for their travelling expenses, and, therefore, were styled rich; still this was kept a secret: they hired a horse for joint use, and when one was riding the other walked. . _hadji amed_, a poor mollah, who performed his pilgrimage leaning upon his beggar's staff. similar in character and position was . _hadji hasan_, whose father had died on the journey, and who was returning home an orphan; . _hadji yakoub_, a mendicant by profession, a profession inherited by him from his father; . _hadji kurban_ (senior), a peasant by birth, who as a knife-grinder had traversed the whole of asia, had been as far as constantinople and mecca, had visited upon occasions thibet and calcutta, and twice the kirghish steppes, to orenburg and taganrok; . _hadji kurban_, who also had lost his father and brother on the journey; { } . _hadji said_; and . _hadji abdur rahman_, an infirm lad of the age of fourteen years, whose feet were badly frozen in the snow of hamadan, and who suffered fearfully the whole way to samarcand. the above-named pilgrims were from khokand, yarkend, and aksu, two adjacent districts; consequently they were chinese tartars, belonging to the suite of hadji bilal, who was besides upon friendly terms with . _hadji sheikh sultan mahmoud_ from kashgar, a young enthusiastic tartar, belonging to the family of a renowned saint, hazreti afak, whose tomb is in kashgar. the father of my friend sheikh sultan mahmoud was a poet; mecca was in imagination his child: after the sufferings of long years he reached the holy city, where he died. his son had consequently a double object in his pilgrimage: he proceeded as pilgrim alike to the tombs of his prophet and his father. with him were . _hadji husein_, his relative; and . _hadji ahmed_, formerly a chinese soldier belonging to the regiment shiiva that bears muskets and consists of musselmans. from the khanat khokand were . _hadji salih khalifed_, candidate for the ishan, which signifies the title of sheikh, consequently belonging to a semi-religious order; an excellent man of whom we shall have often occasion to speak. he was attended by his son, . _hadji abdul baki_, and his brother . _hadji abdul kader_ the _medjzub_, which means, 'impelled by the love of god,' and who, whenever he has shouted two thousand times 'allah,' foams at the mouth and falls into a state of ecstatic blessedness (europeans name this state epilepsy). { } . _hadji kari messud_ (kari has the same signification in turkey as hafiz, one who knows the whole koran by heart). he was with his son, . _hadji gayaseddin_; . _hadji mirza ali_; and ._hadji ahrarkuli_; the bags of the two last-named pilgrims still contained some of their travelling provision in money, and they had a beast hired between them. . _hadji nur mohammed_, a merchant who had been twice to mecca; but not on his own account, only as representing another. [ill-feeling of shiites towards the sunnite hadjis] we advanced up the slopes of the chain of the elburs mountains, which rose higher and higher. the depression of spirits in which i was, was remarked by my friends, who did all in their power to comfort me. it was, however, particularly hadji salih who encouraged me with the assurance that 'they would all feel for me the love of brothers, and the hope that, by the aid of god, we should soon be at liberty beyond the limits of the shiite heretics, and be able to live comfortably in lands subject to the sunnite turkomans, who are followers of the same faith.' a pleasant prospect certainly, thought i; and i rode more quickly on in order to mix with the poor travellers who were preceding us on foot. half an hour later i came up with them. i noticed how cheerfully they wended their way; men who had journeyed on foot from the remotest turkestan to mecca, and back again on foot. whilst many were singing merry songs, which had great resemblance to those of hungary, others were recounting the adventures they had gone through in the course of their wanderings; a conversation which occasioned { } me great pleasure, as it served to make me acquainted with the modes of thought of those distant tribes, so that at the very moment of my departure from teheran i found myself, so to say, in the midst of central asiatic life. during the daytime it was tolerably warm, but it froze hard in the early morning hours, particularly in the mountainous districts. i could not support the cold in my thin clothing on horseback, so i was forced to dismount to warm myself. i handed my horse over to one of the pedestrian pilgrims. he gave me his stick in exchange, and so i accompanied them a long way on foot, hearing the most animated descriptions of their homes; and when their enthusiasm had been sufficiently stimulated by reminiscences of the gardens of mergolan, namengan, and khokand, they all began with one accord to sing a telkin (hymn), in which i myself took part by screaming out as loud as i was able, 'allah, ya allah!' every such approximation to their sentiments and actions on my part was recounted by the young travellers to the older pilgrims, to the great delight of the latter, who never ceased repeating 'hadji reshid (my name amongst my companions) is a genuine dervish; one can make anything out of him.' [mazendran] after a rather long day's march, on the fourth day we reached firuzkuh, which hes rather high, and is approached by a very bad road. the city is at the foot of a mountain, which is crowned by an ancient fortification, now in ruins; a city of some importance from the fact that there the province arak adjemi ends, and mazendran begins. the next morning our way passed in quite a northerly direction, and we had scarcely proceeded three or four hours when we { } reached the mouth of the great defile, properly called mazendran, which extends as far as the shores of the caspian. scarcely does the traveller move a few steps forwards from the karavanserai on the top of the mountain, when the bare dry district changes, as by enchantment, into a country of extraordinary richness and luxuriance. one forgets that one is in persia, on seeing around everywhere the splendour of those primaeval forests and that magnificent green. but why linger over mazendran and all its beauties, rendered so familiar to us by the masterly sketches of frazer, conolly, and burnes? on our passage mazendran was in its gala attire of spring. its witchery made the last spark of trouble disappear from my thoughts. i reflected no more on the perils of my undertaking, but allowed imagination to dwell only upon sweet dreams of the regions through which lay my onward path, visions of the various races of men, customs, and usages which i was now to see. i must expect to behold, it is true, scenes a perfect contrast to these; i must anticipate immense and fearful deserts--plains whose limits are not distinguishable to the human eye, and where i should have for days long to suffer from want of water. the enjoyment of that spot was doubly agreeable, as i was so soon to bid adieu to all sylvan scenes. mazendran had its charms even for my companions. their feelings found expression in regrets that this lovely djennet (paradise) should have become the possession of the heretical shiites. 'how singular,' said hadji bilal, 'that all the beautiful spots in nature should have fallen into the hands of the unbelievers! the prophet had reason to say, "this world is the prison of the believers, and the paradise of the unbelievers.'" [footnote ] [footnote : 'ed dünya sidjn ül mumenin, ve djennet ül kafirin.'] { } in proof, he cited hindoostan, where the 'inghiliz' reign, the beauties of russia which he had seen, and frenghistan, that had been described to him as an earthly paradise. hadji sultan sought to console the company by a reference to the mountainous districts that lie between oosh (boundaries of khokand) and kashgar. he represented that place to me as far more lovely than mazendran, but i can hardly believe it. [zirab; heften; tigers and jackals] at the station zirab we came to the northern extremity of the mountainous pass of mazendran. here the immense woods begin, which mark the limits of the shore of the caspian sea. we pass along a causeway made by shah abbas, but which is fast decaying. our night quarters--we reached them betimes--was heften, in the middle of a beautiful forest of boxwood. our young people started off in quest of a good spring of water for our tea; but all at once we heard a fearful cry of distress. they came flying back, and recounted to us that they had seen animals at the source, which sprang away with long bounds when they approached them. at first i thought they must be lions, and i seized a rusty sword, and found, in the direction they had described, but at a good distance off, two splendid tigers, whose beautifully-striped forms made themselves visible occasionally from the thickets. in this forest the peasants told me that there were numbers of wild beasts, but they very rarely attacked human beings. at all events, we were not molested by the jackals, who even dread a stick, but which are here so numerous that we cannot drive them away. there are jackals throughout { } all persia; they are not uncommon even in teheran, where their howling is heard in the evenings. but still, they did not there approach men, as they did here. they disturbed me the whole night long. i was obliged, in self-defence, to use both hands and feet to prevent their making off with bread-sack or a shoe. [sari] the next day we had to reach sari, the capital of mazendran. not far from the wayside lies sheikh tabersi, a place long defended by the babis (religious enthusiasts who denied mohammed and preached socialism). they made themselves the terror of the neighbourhood. here also are beautiful gardens, producing in exuberance crops of oranges and lemons. their fruit, tinted with yellow and red, presented an enchanting contrast with the green of the trees. sari itself has no beauty to recommend it, but is said to carry on an important trade. as we traversed the bazaar of this last persian city, we received also the last flood of every possible imprecation and abuse; nor did i leave their insolence without rebuke, although i judged it better not to repeat my threatening movements of stick or sword in the centre of a bazaar and amid hundreds of shiites. [karatepe] we only remained in sari long enough to find horses to hire for a day's journey to the sea-shore. the road passes through many marshes and morasses. it is impossible to perform the journey here on foot. from this point there are many ways by which we can reach the shore of the caspian, e. g. by ferahabad (parabad, as it is called by the turkomans), gez, and karatepe. we preferred, however, the last route, because it would lead us to a sunnite colony, where we were certain of a hospitable reception, having already had opportunities of becoming acquainted with many of these colonists at sari, and having found them good people. { } after a rest of two days in sari we started for karatepe. it was not until evening, after a laborious journey of nine hours, that we arrived. here it is that the turkomans first become objects of terror. piratical hordes of them hide their vessels along the coast, whence extending their expeditions to a distance of a few leagues into the interior, they often return to the shore, dragging a persian or so in bonds. { } chapter iv. kaeatepe author entertained by an afghan, nur-ullah suspicions as to his dervish character hadjis provision themselves for journey through desert afghan colony nadir shah first view of the caspian yacoub the turkoman boatman love talisman embarkation for ashodrada voyage on the caspian russian part of ashourada russian war steamers in the caspian turkoman chief, in the service of russia apprehension of discovery on the author's part arrival at gÖmÜshtepe and at the mouth of the gorghen. _ultra caspium sinum quidnam esset, ambiguum aliquamcliu fuit._--pomponius mela, _de situ orbis_. [karatepe; author entertained by an afghan, nur-ullah] nur-ullah, an afghan of distinction, whose acquaintance i had already formed at sari, conducted me to his house on my arrival at karatepe; and as i objected to be separated from all my friends, he included hadji bilal also in his invitation, and did not rest until i had accepted his hospitality. at first i could not divine the motive of his extraordinary kindness, but i observed a little later that he had heard of the footing upon which i stood at the turkish embassy in teheran, and he wished me to repay his kindness by a letter of recommendation, which i promised, and very willingly gave him before we parted. { } [suspicions as to his dervish character] i had hardly taken possession of my new abode when the room filled with visitors, who squatted down in a row all round against the walls, first staring at me with their eyes wide open, then communicating to each other the results of their observations, and then uttering aloud their judgment upon the object of my travelling. 'a dervish,' said the majority, 'he is not, his appearance is anything but that of a dervish; for the wretchedness of his dress contrasts too plainly with his features and his complexion. as the hadjis told us, he must be a relative of the ambassador, who represents our sultan at teheran,' and here all stood up. 'allah only knows what a man who issues from so high an origin has to do amongst the turkomans in khiva and bokhara.' this impudence amazed me not a little. at the first glance they wanted to tear the mask from my face; in the meantime i was acting the genuine part of an oriental, sat seemingly buried in thought, with the air of one who heard nothing. as i took no part in the conversation, they turned to hadji bilal, who told them i was really an efendi, a functionary of the sultan, but had withdrawn myself, in pursuance of a divine inspiration, from the deceptions of the world, and was now engaged with ziaret (a pilgrimage to the tombs of the saints); whereupon many shook their heads, nor could this subject any more be broached. the true musselman must never express a doubt when he is told of divine inspiration (ilham); and however speaker or listener may be convinced that there is imposture, they are still bound to express their admiration by a 'mashallah! mashallah! 'this first scene had, however, clearly unfolded to me that, although still on persian soil, i had nevertheless at last gained the frontiers of central asia; for on hearing the distrustful enquiries of these few sunnites-- enquiries never made in any part of persia--i could { } easily picture to myself the splendid future in store for me further on in the very nest of this people. it was not until two hours had elapsed, spent in chattering and questioning, that these visitors retired and we prepared tea, and then betook ourselves to repose. i was trying to sleep when a man in a turkoman dress, whom i regarded as a member of the family, came near me, and began to tell me, in strict confidence, that he had travelled the last fifteen years on business matters to and from khiva; that he was born at khandahar; but that he had a perfect knowledge of the country of Özbeg and bokhara; and then proposed that we should be friends, and make the journey together through the great desert. i replied, 'all believers are brethren,' [footnote ] and thanked him for his friendliness, with the observation that as a dervish i was very much attached to my travelling companions. he seemed desirous to continue the conversation; but as i let him perceive how inclined i was to sleep, he left me to my slumbers. [footnote : 'kulli mumenin ihvetun.' ] [hadjis provision themselves for journey through desert; afghan colony; nadir shah] next morning nur-ullah informed me that this man was a tiryaki (opium-eater), a scapegrace, whom i should, as much as possible, avoid. at the same time he warned me that karatepe was the only place for procuring our stock of flour for a journey of two months, as even the turkomans themselves got their provisions in this place; and that at all events we must furnish ourselves with bread to last as far as khiva. i left this to hadji bilal to manage for me, and ascended in the meantime the black hill which is situated in the village, and from which it derives its name, karatepe. one side is peopled by persians, { } the other by or afghan families. it is said that this afghan colony was at the beginning of this century of far more importance than at present, and was founded by the last great conqueror of the asiatic world, nadir shah, who, as is well known, accomplished his most heroic actions at the head of the afghans and turkomans. here also was pointed out to me the spot on the hill where he sat when he passed in review the thousands of wild horsemen who flocked from the farthest recesses of the desert, with their good horses and thirsty swords, under his banners. on these occasions nadir is described as always having been in a good humour; so karatepe had its holidays. the precise object of the transplantation of this sunnite colony is unknown to me, but its existence has been found to be of the greatest service, as the afghans serve as negotiators between turkomans and persians, and without them many a persian would languish for months in turkoman bonds, without any medium existing by which his ransom could be effected. on the east of persia similar services are rendered by the sunnites of khaf, djam, and bakhyrz, but these have to deal with the tekke, a far more dangerous tribe than the yomuts. [first view of the caspian; yacoub the turkoman boatman; love talisman] from the summit of the black hill i was able to gain a view of the caspian sea. it is not the main sea which is here visible, but rather that portion of it shut in by the tongue of land which ends at ashourada: it is termed the dead sea. this tongue of land looks at a distance like a thin strip on the water, whence shoots up a single line of trees, which the eye can follow a long, long way. the sight of this, with its bleak solitary beach, was anything but inspiriting. i burnt with desire to behold its eastern shore, and i { } hurried back to my abode to ascertain how far our preparations were in a forward state for any embarkation in quest of the turkoman coast. nur-ullah had taken upon himself to make all necessary preparations. the evening before we had been told that for a kran (franc) per head we might be taken to ashourada by an afghan vessel employed in supplying the russians with provisions, and that thence we might, with the aid of turkomans, reach gömüshtepe in a few hours. 'in ashourada itself,' they said, 'there is khidr khan, a turkoman chieftain in the service of russia, who gives assistance to poor hadjis, and whom we may also visit.' we were all delighted to learn this, and greeted the intelligence with acclamation. how great then was my astonishment when i learnt that this afghan was ready for the voyage, that he would allow the hadjis to accompany him, but that he objected to my highness, whom he regarded as a secret emissary of the sultan; fearing lest he might lose his means of subsistence from the russians should he venture to take such an individual on board his vessel. his resolution surprised me not a little. i was glad to hear my companions declare that if he did not take me they would not go, but would prefer to wait another occasion. so i heard, in an accent of peculiar emphasis, from the opium-smoker, emir mehemmed. later, however, came the afghan himself (his name was anakhan), expressing his regret, promising secresy, and begging me to give him a letter of recommendation to haydar efendi. i considered it good policy not to say a syllable calculated to quiet his apprehensions, laughed heartily at his ideas, and promised to leave for him with nur-ullah some lines for teheran, a promise { } which i did not forget. i felt it quite necessary to leave my real character enveloped in a veil of doubt or mystery. the oriental, and particularly the islamite, bred up in lies and treachery, always believes the very contrary of what a man shows particular earnestness in convincing him of, and the slightest protestation on my part would have served to confirm their suspicions. no further allusion was made to the subject, and that very evening we heard that a turkoman who plies to gömüshtepe was prepared, from feelings of mere piety, without remuneration, to take all the hadjis with him; that we had but to station ourselves early in the morning on the seashore, to profit by a tolerably favourable wind. hadji bilal, hadji salih, and myself, the recognised triumvirate of the mendicant karavan, immediately paid a visit to the turkoman, whose name was yakoub; he was a young man, with an uncommonly bold look; he embraced each of us, and did not object to wait a day that we might complete our provisioning. he received beforehand his benediction from hadji bilal and hadji salih. we had already risen to go, when he called me aside, and tried to get me to tarry a few moments with him. i remained behind. he then, with a certain timidity, told me that he had long entertained an unhappy unreturned affection for a girl of his own race, and that a jew, an accomplished magician, who for the moment was staying in karatepe, had promised to prepare an efficacious nuskha (talisman) if he would but procure thirty drops of attar of roses fresh from mecca, as this could not be dispensed with in the formula. 'we know,' said yakoub, 'that the hadjis bring back with them out of the holy city essences of roses { } and other sweet perfumes; and as you are the youngest of their chiefs, i apply to you, and hope you will listen to my entreaty.' the superstition of this son of the desert did not so much astonish me as the trust he had reposed in the words of the cunning israelite, and as my travelling friends had really brought with them such attar of roses his wish was soon gratified. the joy that he displayed was almost childish. the second day afterwards, early in the morning, we all assembled on the sea-shore, each furnished, besides his mendicant equipment, with a sack of flour. we lost considerable time before the boat (called teïmil), which was formed out of a hollow tree, set us alongside the little vessel, or skiff, called by turks 'mauna.' this, on account of the shallowness of the water near the shore, was lying out at sea at a distance of about an english mile. never shall i forget the mode in which we embarked. the small tree, in the hollow of which passengers were stowed away, together with flour and other effects, in the most diversified confusion, threatened each instant to go to the bottom. we had to bless our good fortune that we arrived on board all dry. the turkomans have three kinds of vessels-- ( ) keseboy, furnished with a mast and two sails, one large and one small, principally for carrying cargoes; ( ) kayuk, with a simple sail, generally used on their predatory expeditions; and ( ) the teïmil, or skiff, already mentioned. { } [embarkation for ashourada; voyage on the caspian] the vessel provided for our use by yakoub was a keseboy, that had conveyed a cargo of naphtha, pitch, and salt to the persian coast from the island tchereken, and was now homeward-bound with corn on board. as the vessel had no deck, and consequently had no distinction of place, every one suited himself, and sat down where he wished as he entered. yakoub, however, observing that this would disturb the trim and management of the vessel, we each seized our bundle and our provisions, and were closely packed in two rows near each other like salted herrings, so that the centre of the boat remained free for the crew to pass backwards and forwards. our position then was none of the most agreeable. during the daytime it was supportable, but at night it was awful, when sleep threw the sitters from their perpendicular position to the right and left, and i was forced to submit for hours to the sweet burthen of a snoring hadji. frequently a sleeper on my right and another on my left fell one over the other upon me: i dared not wake them, for that would have been a heinous sin, to be atoned by never-ending suffering. it was mid-day on the th april, , when a favourable wind distended our sails, driving the little vessel before it like an arrow. on the left side we had the small tongue of land; on the right, thickly covered with wood, extending down to the very sea, stood the mountain upon which rose the palace eshref, built by shah abbas, the greatest of the persian kings. the charm of our argonautic expedition was augmented by the beautiful spring weather; and in spite of the small space within which i was pent up, i was in very good spirits. the thought might have suggested itself to me that i had to-day left the persian coast; that at last i had reached a point from which there was no drawing back, and { } where regrets were useless. but no! at that moment no such idea occurred to me. i was firmly convinced that my travelling friends, whose wild appearance had at first rendered them objects of alarm, were really faithful to me, and that under their guidance i might face the greatest dangers. towards evening there was a calm; we cast anchor near the shore, and were allowed in turn to make our tea on the little hearth of the vessel. having stored away some pieces of sugar in my girdle, i invited yakoub and honoured him with a bowl of tea. hadji salih and sultan mahmoud were of the party; the young turkoman was the great talker, and began to recount stories of the alaman (as the turkomans name their marauding expeditions), a favourite topic with this people. his eye, always fiery, now vied with the stars of his own heaven, for his vein was stimulated by the desire to win golden opinions from the sunnite mollahs (we passed for such) by details of the conflicts in which he had engaged with the shiite heretics, and of the numbers of the heretics that he had made prisoners. my friends soon began to slumber around me; still i did not tire of listening to him, and it was not until midnight that he thought of retiring. before he withdrew he told me that nur-ullah had directed him to take me as a guest to the tent of khandjan, a turkoman chieftain; and he added that nur-ullah was right, for i was not like the rest of the hadjis, and deserved better treatment. 'khandjan,' said yakoub, 'is the aksakal (chief) of a mighty race, and even in the time of his father, no dervish, hadji, or other stranger ever dared to pass through gömüshtepe without having tasted his bread and drunk his water. he will, as you come out of { } foreign roum (turkey), certainly give you a good reception, and you will be grateful to me.' [russian war steamers in the caspian] the following morning, the weather being unfavourable, we could only move slowly; it was already evening when we reached ashourada, the most southerly point of the russian possessions in asia. it fell definitively into the hands of the czar twenty-five years ago: perhaps it would be better to express ourselves thus, that it became subject to russia from the time when, with their steamers, they began to strike the necessary degree of terror into the daring alaman cruisers of the turkoman pirates. the name ashourada is of turkoman origin; it was inhabited, but served them rather as a station for their then frequent and unchecked piratical expeditions. the ashourada of the present day produces upon the traveller arriving from persia an agreeable impression. small, it is true, is the number of houses built at the east end of the tongue of land; but the european fashion of the buildings, as well as the church that the eye encounters, were not indifferent objects for me. the war steamers more particularly reminded me of european modes of existence; and i cannot say how inspiriting it was to see towards evening a steamer from gez (a place that serves as the port for astrabad) gliding proudly by. the russians here maintain three war steamers (two large and one small), without the protection of which neither the russian settlers nor the sailing vessels proceeding from astrakhan would be safe from the attacks of the turkomans. so long indeed as the merchantman remains out at sea, it has no cause for alarm; and it rarely ventures to approach the coast without being in the escort of a steamer, whose { } protection is also necessary for the voyage back. the russian government makes, naturally, the greatest exertions, and at the greatest cost, to paralyse the predatory habits of the turkomans. this plague has, in effect, somewhat diminished; still to establish security is an impossibility, and many unhappy persians, and even occasionally russian, sailors are hurried away in chains to gömüshtepe. the russian ships cruise incessantly day and night in the turkoman waters; and every turkoman vessel that is about to proceed from the east coast to the persian shore on the south, must be provided with a pass, for which the owner has to pay yearly , , or ducats. this pass is renewable at the end of each year, and must be exhibited every time the vessel passes ashourada, when it is visited by the russian functionaries to ascertain if it has on board prisoners, arms, or other contraband merchandise. the consequence of this salutary regulation is that a great part of the turkoman merchant shipping has been overhauled and registered, and the rest mostly navigate in indirect courses, and if encountered by the russian cruisers are taken, or, in case of resistance, sunk. whilst thus on the one side steps of necessary vigour have been taken, on the other a policy has been adopted of establishing friendly relations with one tribe so as to make use of it against another. [turkoman chief, in the service of russia] at the time when i passed by ashourada, khidr khan, sprung from the race of the gazili kör, had already borne the title of derya bêghi (admiral) thirty years in the russian service, and had a salary of about forty ducats per month, out of which he gave ten to his mirza or writer. khidr khan still continued to live in a tent in the middle of the semi-european { } colony; his functions consisted in using his influence with the turkomans generally to prevent their piracies, or at least in conveying to the russians intelligence of any intended expedition, for his clansmen, as eye-witnesses, were well able to perform the duty of spies. but this he could not effect. this khidr khan, though once so good a musselman, had formed at an early date acquaintance with the generous vodki (russian brandy): the consequence was that, day and night, he was intoxicated; and his sons, who were to be his successors, had come to an understanding with the karaktchi (robbers), and were very careful not to give intelligence to the russians of any projected marauding expedition. [apprehension of discovery on the author's part] our friend yakoub was bound to produce his pass, and our little vessel could not proceed without having been first searched. as night had commenced when we neared ashourada, we found that the visit of the authorities was postponed till an early hour in the morning. we cast anchor a short distance from land. my friends seemed greatly to regret their being prevented from waiting upon khidr khan, the ill-famed maecenas of dervishes and hadjis. the circumstance was, however, to me a cause of unmingled satisfaction; for i could not have remained behind, and khidr's experience in european countenances would have easily detected me; or, at all events, would have left me ill at ease. i was, however, somewhat disturbed by the reflection that, as an examination of the vessel must ensue in the morning, my european features, in strange contrast with those of my companions, and my complexion not yet brought to an asiatic hue, might still play me false, and make the russians alive to the real facts of the case. far from { } apprehending any inhumane treatment at their hands, my principal dread was their discovering me, and endeavouring to dissuade me from persisting in my adventure; and besides i feared still more that the affair might be noised abroad, and that the turkomans might get wind of my incognito. i thought of how much more ransom i should have to pay than blôcqueville, to rescue me from such cruel slavery! these ideas occasioned me the deepest anxiety, and i felt so troubled that i could not gaze with pleasure upon this last picture reflected from western life. next morning i awoke in the greatest agitation; the sound of a bell was heard from ashourada; my fellow-travellers said that this was sunday, the holiday of the unbelievers. i knew not which sunday [footnote ] it was. we were close to a ship of war that had all its colours flying; suddenly we saw sailors in full uniform in a boat approach the shore with regular measured strokes of their oars; an officer in full dress then stepped in, and was soon taken on board the ship of war. ten minutes had hardly elapsed when they called to us to approach, and i then saw on their deck near the gangway several fair-haired officers standing together. my heart began to beat violently; we approached nearer and nearer; all my effort now was to maintain such an attitude as might least attract attention, and avoid as far as possible the dreaded _tête-à-tête_. as fortune willed, our vessel on approaching the russians presented to it first that side upon which i was seated, so that the assembled officers were only able to see my neck. [footnote : during my journey i often lost sight of dates, and it was only later that i learned that this was easter sunday (russian style).] { } on account of the day, the examination was but slight and formal. the dollmetsh exchanged a few words with yakoub; our mendicant company fixed the attention of the officers. amongst other things i heard one say, 'see how white this hadji is.' [footnote ] [footnote : 'smotrite kakoi bieloï etot hadji.'] this allusion was probably made to me, whose complexion had not yet assumed the hue of uncivilised life. if so, it was the only observation they made upon me; for they had soon done with yakoub, and in a moment we were far away from the side of the russian vessel. i now raised myself from my stooping and half-sleeping position, and took a long breath, for my anxiety was at an end. soon afterwards the wind began to blow strongly from the west. now was the time to get up our sails and make all haste for gömüshtepe, which was but three leagues off; but yakoub kept his eye fixed on a white point in the distance, and held a council with his crew: nor was it until this dreaded object had entirely vanished, that our large sail was unfurled, and we darted with the swiftness of an arrow towards the east. at about half a league distance from ashourada, we passed several sea-marks, consisting of long painted poles. i was told by yakoub that they had been placed there by the 'inghiliz,' to mark the limits of the russian waters, the other side belonging to the turkomans, whom the 'inghiliz 'would always protect against the attack of the russians. it was always a riddle to me to discover who had instilled into these wild sons of the desert such far-reaching ideas of policy. it is not for me to discriminate these { } sea-marks; still less to weigh the amount of sympathy felt by england for the turkomans. [arrival at gömüshtepe and at the mouth of the gorghen.] in less than an hour the turkoman coast lay well defined before us, appearing as a long tract of land with elevated ground here and there. we followed the direction indicated by other craft which were running in before us: the sails were soon lowered, for we had reached the end of the navigable waters, and lay off about a mile and a half from the mouth of the görghen. on both of its banks we saw the encampment of gömüshtepe, in form like a hundred beehives lying close together. as it had been at karatepe, so was it also here, on account of the shallowness: even boats that draw little water cannot approach the shore, or run into the river görghen, which is itself tolerably deep and never wants water. we were therefore obliged to wait at a considerable distance off shore until yakoub should have disembarked, reported his arrival, and sent back to us several teïmils to aid us in our disembarkation. after some delay, three of these very original transports came; they were to perform their little voyages as often as our numbers rendered it necessary, until all should be landed. hadji bilal and i were the last to land, and i was really delighted when, on touching shore, i heard that khandjan, informed of my arrival by my honest friend yakoub, had hastened down to receive me. there i found him on landing, a few paces behind, in the attitude necessitated by the repetition of the afternoon prayer (aszr-namazi). [illustration] reception by turkoman chief on the caspian shore. { } chapter v. arrival at gÖmÜshtepe, hospitable reception of the hadjis khandjan ancient greek wall influence of the ulemas first brick mosque of the nomads tartar raids persian slaves excursion to the north-east of gÖmÜshtepe tartar fiancÉe and banquet, etc. preparation of the khan of khiva's kervanbashi for the journey through the desert line of camels ilias beg, the hirer of camels arrangements with khulkhan turkoman expedition to steal horses in persia its return. _ad introeuntium dextram scythae nomades, freti litoribus, insident_.-- pompon. mela,_de situ orbis_, . iii. c. v. [arrival at gömüshtepe, hospitable reception of the hadjis; khandjan] after his prayer was ended, khandjan arose, and as i perceived him standing before me, he was a handsome, tall, and slender man, about forty years of age, dressed in extremely modest attire, with a long beard descending to his breast. he at once approached me, hastily embraced, and gave me a hearty welcome; in doing so he greeted me by my name. he received the hadjis bilal and salih in a similar manner; and after the karavan had stowed away their sacks, and was once more afoot, we closed the procession, all taking the road towards the tents. the report of our arrival had spread everywhere: our numbers were exaggerated: women, children, and dogs all hastened in strange confusion out of the tents, to gaze upon the approaching pilgrims, and by an embrace (as the { } mollahs pretend) to acquire, in obedience to the divine command respecting pilgrimage, a participation in the merit and rewards of pilgrims. this first picture of central asiatic life had so taken me by surprise, that i was puzzled whether i should pause first to admire the singular construction of the tents, formed of felt, and the women with their silk shifts extending to the ankles, or at once gratify the wish implied by their outstretched hands and arms. strange! young and old, without distinction of sex or family, all wished to touch the hadjis on whom the holy dust of mecca and medina still rested. judge, too, of my amazement when women of the greatest beauty, some girls even, hurried up to embrace me. we were tired, worn out by these demonstrations of respect arising from blended feelings of religion and hospitality, when we arrived before the tent of the chief ishan (priest), where our little karavan was concentrated: then began one of the most interesting spectacles that my eyes have ever witnessed. here were to begin the arrangements for quartering the guests that had just arrived. the passion and warmth with which all disputed the honour and right of harbouring one or more of these poor strangers astounded me. i had heard, it is true, the hospitality of the nomads spoken of, but never dreamed that it could have risen to such a point. khandjan quieted the quarrels which had commenced among the women; he restored order, and assigned the different guests to each, retaining as his own peculiar guests hadji bilal and myself, with all that belonged to us: he took us with him to his ova (tent). [footnote ] [footnote : ova, properly translated _tent_, is used here by the turkomans to indicate a house and court.] { } as he lived quite at the extremity of gömüshtepe, we had to pass through the whole encampment, which extended on both banks of the gorghen, [footnote ] and consisted of tents standing close together. it was near sunset when, quite worn out, we reached his dwelling, in the fond hope of being able at last to find some repose; but a sad disappointment awaited us. our new abode consisted, it is true, of a separate tent, pitched two paces from the river; but we had hardly taken possession of it, with the customary ceremonials (twice performing its circuit and peeping in the four corners), when it was filled with visitors, who lingered till a late hour at night, and so wearied us by their thousands of questions, that even hadji bilal, the oriental _par excellence_, began gradually to lose patience. in the evening supper was served by baba djan, [footnote ] the son of khandjan, a lad twelve years old. it consisted of boiled fish and sour milk, and was served up in a large wooden dish. this, a persian slave, heavily laden with chains, in the first instance brought near to us, when it was received by baba djan, who, after having set it before us, went and took his { } seat close to his father, at a little distance from us; and then both looked on with visible pleasure as they saw us attacking the provisions with the appetites of giants. supper at an end, the prayer was said, hadji bilal raising his hands, in which gesture he was imitated by all present, as he was again when, in conclusion, after saying 'bismillah, allah ekber,' every one stroked his beard, and offered their felicitations to khandjan upon his guests. [footnote : this river, whose remotest springs rise in the mountains of khurdistan, traverses the greater part of the district peopled by the yomuts, in an extent of nearly thirty german geographical miles ( miles). a man on horseback can ford it to a point far below pisarak; and even below the atabegs its depth is not considerable until it comes within eight geographical miles of gömüshtepe, where its two banks are mere morasses. it is everywhere narrow. it is fabulously rich in fish at about four or five geographical miles from its mouth, so that its waters appeared almost coloured by them, and are in summer hardly drinkable. after i had only twice used it for washing, my hands and face acquired a strong fishy smell.] [footnote : baba djan, _father's soul,_ is merely a term of endearment given by the turkomans to their eldest sons.] _ th april_.--i awoke for the first time in a turkoman tent, which among the yomuts receives the appellation of tchatma, but amongst other tribes is called aladja. the sweet sleep that i had enjoyed, and the light construction in which i found myself, had made me feel fresh and light of heart: the charm of novelty transported me, and my delight was without bounds. this did not escape the notice of hadji bilal, who invited me to take a short walk with him, and when we had got to a short distance from the tchatma, he observed to me that it was now high time to lay aside entirely my efendi character, and become body and soul a dervish. 'you must have already remarked,' said my good friend, 'that both i and my associates bestow upon the public fatiha (blessings): this you must do also. i know that this is not the custom in roum, but people here will expect and demand it. it will occasion great surprise, if, representing yourself to be a dervish, you do not carry out the character to its full extent. you know the form of benediction: assume, therefore, a serious face, and distribute your fatiha (blessings); you can also give the nefes (holy breath) when you are summoned to the sick, only never forget to extend your hand at the same time, for it is a matter of notoriety that we { } dervishes subsist by such acts of piety, and they are always ready with some little present or other.' hadji bilal apologised for presuming to school me; still, he said that it was for my benefit, and that i must have heard of the story of the traveller who, when he reached the land of the one-eyed nation, to put himself upon an equality with them, kept one of his eyes closed. after i had warmly thanked him for his counsel, he told me also that khandjan, and many other turkomans, had made particular enquiries respecting me, and that it had cost him much trouble and strong protestations to convince them that my journey had not in the slightest degree an official character. the turkomans naturally inclined to the idea that i had been sent by the sultan to khiva and bokhara on some anti-russian mission; that he was not disposed to disturb their belief, as they had the greatest respect for the sultan. the result of all was that i should never for a moment throw aside my dervish character, for that enigmas and ambiguities were what best suited this people. having said this, we returned to our quarters, where our host was waiting for us, with many of his friends and relatives. first he presented his wife and aged mother, whom he commended to our powerful intercession and blessings; then we were made acquainted with other near members of his family. after we had rendered to all the expected services, khandjan remarked that it was the custom of the turkomans to regard a guest as the dearest member of the family; that we might without obstacle move about, not only amongst his own clan, but amongst the whole tribe of the yomuts, and should anyone dare to touch a hair of his guest's head, the kelte (that was the name of his clan) would { } exact satisfaction. 'you will have to remain here, and wait at least two weeks till a caravan is ready to start for khiva; repose a little, and then pay a visit to the more distant ovas. the turkoman never permits the dervish to proceed empty-handed from his tent. it will do you no harm to fill your bread-sack--you have a long way before you ere you can get any supply--since it is your purpose to go as far as khiva and bokhara.' as i wished so much to move about at my ease, the reader may judge how these words delighted me. it was my desire to remain in gömüshtepe only so long as was necessary to extend my acquaintance a little with the people, and to acquire greater fluency in their dialect. during the first few days i accompanied khandjan, his brother, or other intimate friend of his family, in their round of visits. a little later i attended the hadji bilal in his tour of religious benedictions, or went with hadji salih, who was actively engaged in his medical capacity. upon the latter occasions, whilst he was administering the medicine, i repeated aloud the blessing: this finished, i received a present of a little mat of felt, or a dried fish, or some other trifle. whether it was owing to good luck attending our joint treatment, or a motive of mere curiosity with respect to the turkish hadji (hadji roumi)--that was my title amongst them--i was never able to unriddle; but my friends were much amazed that, after having only been five days in gömüshtepe, i had a numerous levée of sick persons, or at least of men who pretended to be such, to whom i administered blessings and 'breath,' or for whom i wrote little sentences to serve as talismans, but never did this take place without my receiving { } afterwards the proper 'honorarium.' now and then i fell in with a stiff-necked politician, who, regarding me as a mere political emissary, questioned my dervish character. this, however, troubled me but little, for at least the original mask that i had assumed remained unsuspected: no one thought of discovering me to be an european. judge, then, how pleased i was to think that i could now undisturbedly move about on a soil hitherto so little known to europeans. [influence of the ulemas] the number of my acquaintances increased rapidly. i soon counted amongst them the most powerful and influential. i found particular advantage in the friendship of kizil akhond (his proper name was molla murad), a turkoman 'savant' of high distinction, with whom i was upon the best footing, and whose recommendation procured access for me everywhere. kizil akhond had in his time, when studying in bokhara, fallen upon a work in the osmanli turkish language, a sort of comment or explanation of sentences and expressions in the koran. this he did not exactly understand. i possessed the necessary key. my cooperation consequently gave him the greatest delight: he spoke everywhere in the highest terms of my acquaintance with the literature of islam. i entered into friendly relations with satlig akhond also, who was a highly-esteemed priest and a man of no little learning. when i first met him, he returned formal thanks to providence for permitting him to behold, face to face, a musselman from roum, from that pure source of faith; and some one in the company having made a remark respecting my white complexion, he said that that was the true light of islam (nur ül islam) that { } beamed from my countenance, of which divine blessing only the believers of the west could boast. i was also in the habit of sedulously cultivating the acquaintance of molla durdis, who was invested with the rank of a kazi kelan (superior judge); for i had soon acquired the conviction that it was only the class of the ulemas that would exercise any influence upon these wild people, and that the ascendency of the (aksakal) grey beards, regarded in europe as predominant, was really of very little moment. [first brick mosque of the nomads] the increasing confidence evinced for me by the turkomans showed me that the line of conduct i had adopted was a prudent one; and when the intention was entertained of building a mosque with the bricks from the old grecian ruins which have given name to gömüshtepe, it was i who was requested to indicate the mihrab (altar), as kizil akhond had pointed me out as the best informed and most experienced dervish for the purpose. [ancient greek wall] in the whole district of gömüshtepe there had never been till now, with the exception of the construction in its vicinity attributed to the greeks, which was now in ruins, anything in the shape of a wall; and certainly it is to be regarded as some indication of a progress in civilisation that the idea of erecting an edifice for divine worship in this spot, which is regarded as the principal seat of the yomuts, had been even broached. each pious turkoman had imposed it upon himself as a duty to bring to the same place a few hundreds of the beautiful square bricks from the fortified works built by alexander; and as the materials were now regarded as sufficient, a turkoman was expressly engaged as architect. his business had often carried him to { } astrakhan, and he passed for a man of experience in such matters. he was entrusted with the execution of the entire building. after i had, by means of my compass, indicated to them the direction in which mecca lies, they began to build the walls without laying any foundations: a forgetfulness affording very little guarantee for the solidity of the whole construction, and yet so much the better for them, perhaps; for, should it last long enough, the russians may, possibly, some day or other, make use of it as the advanced works of a fort, and the vast designs of the great macedonian may be turned to account by the rival ambition of a romanoff. i had hardly spent a week in gömüshtepe when, through the protection above mentioned, i had made acquaintances everywhere. i was now able to penetrate the secrets of their social relations, to learn the numerous ramifications and families into which the tribe is divided, and, if possible, form an idea concerning the bond that holds together elements apparently so discordant and confused. the task was somewhat more difficult than i had supposed. i had only to touch upon a question relating to ordinary life, or to show a curiosity for some matter or other, to make men wonderingly ask what a dervish, whose proper business was only god and religion, had to do with the affairs of this transitory world. my enquiries, therefore, on these heads cost me great trouble, for direct questions i never dared to put. most fortunately, however, the turkomans, who pass all their lives, with the exception of that part devoted to marauding expeditions, in the greatest indolence, are prone to indulge for hours and hours in conversations on political matters, to which i only listened in { } silence; and sitting there thus dreamily, with my beads in my hands, it has been permitted to me to study the history of their raids (alaman), of their relations with vilayet (persia), with the khan of khiva, and with other nomad nations. [excursion to the north-east of gömüshtepe] during that time i had an opportunity, under the conduct of kizil akhond, of making an excursion to the atabeg, the tribe of the yomuts which dwells furthest to the east, and the göklen turkomans--an excursion to me of the highest interest, as it gave me an opportunity of seeing a great part of the wall built by alexander to serve as a bulwark against the much-dreaded tribe that peopled the wilderness. the object of kizil akhond's journey was connected with the administration of justice: he had to make investigation in a lawsuit. we consequently made halts in several places, and took four days for a tour which might have been accomplished in two. the direction in which we journeyed was easterly; but we were frequently obliged to take circuitous ways to avoid morasses covered with reeds, and to keep clear of the hundreds of wild boars which were roaming about. the morasses are caused by the inundations of the görghen, which swells in spring, and often overflows its banks for miles and miles. this must also have been the case in ancient times, for it was considered advisable to build the great wall before mentioned, as a defence, at a distance of from four to six english miles from the north bank of the river; and as this was always on one of the highest parts which could be found in the plain, the parts adjoining the wall, now in ruins, constitute at the present day the safest route in all seasons of the year. and for a like reason we find { } in the same vicinity the majority of the tents: we had seldom to walk an hour without falling in with these in either greater or smaller groups. i did not see the west end of this ancient construction, and am not, therefore, inclined to accord any credit to the fabulous accounts with which i was favoured. on the east end i think i really discovered where the wall began in two points; one to the north-east of gömüshtepe, where larger accumulations of ruins, close upon the sea-shore, mark the commencement; and the second about twenty english miles to the south of the river etrek, also near to the sea, which two lines unite a little higher above the altin tokmak. as for the line that takes its departure from gömüshtepe, i was able to follow it up during two days to a distance of ten geographical miles from the west to the north-east. it is easy to distinguish it by its elevation of two or three feet above the surface of the surrounding earth. in its entirety the work presents rather the appearance of a long line of intrenchments, from the midst of which, at intervals of a thousand paces, rise the ruins of ancient towers; the dimensions of these seem to have been alike throughout. in the direction of these walls, there are also visible other great mounds, the investigation of which i would rather leave to others, not feeling myself competent to give any satisfactory explanation or even reasonable surmise about them. some of the smaller ones have been opened by the turkomans, and, as i was told, there was found in the interior of a four-sided building a colossal pot, of the thinness of paper, containing blue-coloured ashes, a few gold coins, and other precious objects. hence the wall is styled, throughout the whole country, the _gold receiver_ (kizil alan). { } the mounds of which i here speak must, however, be distinguished from the yoska elevations, raised by the turkomans in commemoration of great departed ones of their nation whom they so wish to honour. my learned guide, kizil akhond, was amazed at my showing so much interest in the wall of alexander (seddi iskender). [footnote ] [footnote : the history of the great macedonian is invested by the orientals with all the characteristics of a religious myth; and although some of their writers are anxious to distinguish iskender zul karnein (the two-horned alexander), the hero of their fable, from iskenderi roumi (the greek alexander), i have yet everywhere found that these two persons were regarded as one and the same.] according to khizil, the wall had been erected by the genii (djins), at the command of the mighty sovereign alexander. 'alexander,' he said, 'was a more pious musselman than we are, and therefore all subterranean spirits, whether they would or no, owed him allegiance.' he was about to proceed with the well-known fable of alexander's descent into the realms of darkness, when he became dumb on seeing that i was absorbed in the occupation of forcibly detaching one of the bricks: and really these bright red bricks do seem as it were fused together into one material, for it is easier to break them into two than to separate them from the entire mass. the whole neighbourhood cannot fail to be of the highest interest to archaeologists, as there are to be found in it, not only many remains of the greek domination, but also hidden monuments of ancient iran civilisation; for the arabian historians relate much to us concerning the importance of the lower görghen, the existing ruins of shehri djordjan. even the kumbezi-kaus (the dome of khaus), a ruin which i only heard spoken of without actually seeing it, would also, in all probability, merit more attention than rapidly-travelling englishmen have hitherto been able to devote to it. { } i was very much surprised to see that kizil akhond, whom i had regarded merely as a 'savant' and not as a rich man, possessed in different spots tents, wives, and children, the different component parts of a family, the issue of three marriages. it was not until i had thus, in different places, had the honour of being introduced to fresh wives and children, that i began to understand that his little tour might possibly have other ends in view than those of a simple juridical circuit. nor was the difference great between the manner in which he was received in his own tents and in those of strangers; the mollah, as he was styled _par excellence_, was in the tents of the turkomans everywhere at home, everywhere master. even in the settlements of hostile tribes, he was not only treated with honourable distinction, but laden with presents: nor was i, who was here playing the part of his disciple, forgotten in the award of favour, but was presented with namdzdjï (mats for kneeling upon when at prayer), made of felt, a turkoman over-cloak, and a large felt cap, the ordinary headdress of these nomad tribes. setting this upon my head, and winding around it the scarf to form the light turban, behold me now for the moment metamorphosed into a turkoman mollah! when i returned to gömüshtepe i found my fellow-hadjis, who had not approved of my excursion, very anxious on account of my prolonged absence. i enquired respecting the health of each of them. i learnt that hadji salih had carried on a brilliant trade with his physic; that a theft had been committed upon hadji kari meszud in a mosque, that is, in a { } tent that served as such, in which he had taken up his quarters. after a long search in every direction, as no discovery was made, the ishan (priest) declared that he would at once utter his malediction upon the thief, should he not restore the stolen property. before twenty-four hours had expired, the conscience-stricken criminal came forward, bringing with him not only the stolen property, but a present as atonement. i venture to recommend this practice to the london detectives, as a substitute for their present system. [tartar raids; persian slaves] i now learnt, also, satisfactory intelligence respecting a karavan proceeding to khiva. my friends told me that the khan of khiva, who had been recommended by the physicians the use of the milk of the buffalo for his health, had sent express to gömüshtepe his kervanbashi [footnote ] to purchase for him two pair of these animals, which were not to be met with in his own country. this official had proceeded to astrabad, and on his return the journey was to be at once made with every guarantee of success, as it would be under the immediate guidance of a man whose experience of the desert was unrivalled. i was astonished to find how many of my fellow-travellers, the poorest of the poor, in spite of the noble hospitality of which they had been partakers, were already weary of the turkomans; for it would be, they said, impossible for men having the least sentiment of humanity to be eye-witnesses any longer of the cruel treatment to which the wretched persian slaves had to submit. { } 'true, the persians are heretics, and they tormented us terribly in our journey through their country; but what the poor wretches here suffer is really too much.' the compassion evinced by my fellow-travellers, in whose own country the slave-trade is not carried on, and the imprecations they used against the karaktchi (robbers) for their inhumanity, convey the best impression of the sufferings to which the poor captives are exposed. let us only picture to ourselves the feelings of a persian, even admitting that he is the poorest of his race, who is surprised by a night attack, hurried away from his family, and brought hither a prisoner, and often wounded. he has to exchange his dress for old turkoman rags that only scantily cover parts of his body, and is heavily laden with chains that gall his ancles, and occasion him great and unceasing pain every step he takes; he is forced upon the poorest diet to linger the first days, often weeks of his captivity. that he may make no attempt at flight, he has also during the night a karabogra (iron ring) attached to his neck and fastened to a peg, so that the rattle betrays even his slightest movements. no other termination to his sufferings than the payment of a ransom by his friends; and, failing this, he is liable to be sold, and perhaps hurried off to khiva and bokhara! [footnote : kervanbashi, leader or chief of karavans. he receives his appointment from the khan, and is generally a person of great experience in the different routes. each karavan route has its own kervanbashi, who is distinguished by the name of his particular route.] to the rattle of those chains i could never habituate my ears; it is heard in the tent of every turkoman who has any pretensions to respectability or position. even our friend khandjan had two slaves, lads, only in their eighteenth and twentieth year; and to behold these unfortunates, in the bloom of their youth, in fetters made me feel indescribable emotion, repeated every day. in addition, i was forced to { } listen in silence to the abuse and curses with which these poor wretches were loaded. the smallest demonstration of compassion would have awakened suspicions, as, on account of my knowledge of persian, i was most frequently addressed by them. the youngest of our domestic slaves, a handsome black-haired irani, begged of me to be so good as to write a letter for him to his relatives, praying them for god's sake to sell sheep and house in order to ransom him, which letter i accordingly wrote. upon one occasion i thought, without being perceived, i might give him a cup of tea, but unluckily at the moment when he extended his hand to receive it some one entered the tent. i pretended to be only beckoning to him, and, instead of presenting him the tea, i felt constrained to give him a few slight blows. during my stay in gömüshtepe no night passed without a shot echoing from the sea-shore to announce the arrival of some piratical vessel laden with booty. the next morning i went to demand from the heroes the tithes due to the dervishes, or rather, let me say, to behold the poor persians in the first moments of their misfortune. my heart bled at the horrid sight; and so i had to harden myself to these most striking contrasts of virtue and vice, of humanity and tyranny, of scrupulous honesty and the very scum of knavery. i had stayed only a fortnight when, like my companions, i began to weary of the place, my eves feeding with inexpressible longing upon the frontiers of persia. only a few leagues separate the two countries, and yet the manners, customs, and modes of thinking amongst the turkomans are just as different as if the two nations were a thousand miles asunder. how wonderful the influence of religion { } and of historical tradition upon mankind! i cannot refrain from laughing when i think that these turkomans, in some particulars so cruel and so inhuman, were at this very time constantly giving entertainments, 'lillah' (for pious ends), at which it was necessary that our entire company of pilgrims should be present. these invitations were repeated several times during the day. it was only the first and second that i was disposed to accept; from the third i showed by my manner that i wished to be excused; but my would-be host forced me by many pushes in the ribs to leave my tent. according to the rule of turkoman etiquette, 'the harder the push, the more hearty the invitation.' on such festal occasions the amphytrion threw down before the tent some pieces of felt--or, if it were his humour to be sumptuous, a carpet--whereupon the guests seated themselves in groups of five or six in a circle, and each group received a large wooden dish proportioned in size and contents to the number and ages of those who were to share it. into the dish every guest plunged his half-open fist, until emptied to the very bottom. the quality and dressing of the meats which were served to us are not calculated to interest much our 'gastronomes.' i merely remark, therefore, in passing, that horse-flesh and camel-flesh were the order of the day: what other dishes represented our venison, i must decline mentioning. [tartar fiancée and banquet, etc.] during my sojourn with khandjan, he affianced his son (twelve years old, as before mentioned) to a maiden in her tenth year. this event was accompanied by a festival, from which, as his guests, we could not absent ourselves. on entering the tent of the 'fiancee,' we found her completely occupied with { } working a shawl. her maimer was that of one unconscious of the presence of others; and during our stay, which lasted two hours, i only once remarked from her furtive glance that she took any interest in our company. during the banquet, which, in my honour, consisted of rice boiled in milk, khandjan observed that this festival had been fixed for the next autumn; but he had wished to turn to account the occasion of our presence, that the event might take place under our auspices and benedictions. let me not here forget to mention that we were entertained also on this occasion by a karaktchi, who had, alone on foot, not only made three persians prisoners, but had also by himself driven them before him into captivity for a distance of eight miles. he gave us the tithes of the spoil due to the church, consisting of a small sum of two krans; and how happy he was when we with one voice intoned a fatiha to bless him! [preparation of the khan of khiva's kervanbashi for the journey through the desert; line of camels; ilias beg, the hirer of camels] after having lingered, very much against my will, three weeks in gömüshtepe, the hospitable khandjan at last showed a disposition to aid our preparations for departure. we considered that the purchase of camels would entail too much expense; we consequently determined to hire one for every two of us to carry our water and our flour. this might have been very difficult, had we not been so fortunate as to possess in our cattle-dealer, ilias beg, a proper adviser for the purpose. he was not, perhaps, a religious person, nor had he much reverence for our hadji character; but he only showed the more exactitude to fulfil the law of hospitality, and the more disposition to make the greatest sacrifices to give us satisfaction. ilias is properly a turkoman from khiva, and { } of the tribe of the yomuts; he makes a journey of business every year through the desert to gömüshtepe, and during his stay is under the protection of khandjan, without which his position is as insecure as that of any other stranger. he comes generally in autumn, and returns in spring, with twenty or thirty camels loaded with his own merchandise, or that of strangers. having been induced this year to take back with him some extra camels, the small additional sum for hire of these camels was, as it were, a god-send. khandjan had recommended us in the warmest manner, and the words, 'ilias, you will answer with your life,' had clearly shown him in what degree of estimation we stood with our host. ilias cast his eyes down to the ground, as the nomads are in the habit of doing when they appear most in earnest; and his answer, in a low tone, which seemed to issue from him without any movement of the lips, was, 'you surely do not know me.' the singular _sang-froid_ of the two turkomans, as they dealt together, began to irritate my still half-european character, and forgetting that hadji bilal and my other companions were also present, and yet remained motionless, i made some remarks; but i soon had occasion to regret it, for even after having addressed them several times, my words remained without notice. without, therefore, venturing to mix in the negotiation, it was determined that we should hire a camel for two ducats to go as far as khiva; and as for our flour and water, ilias declared that he would take it with him without compensation. the small sum of money belonging to me, which i had sewn and hidden in different parts of my mendicant attire, together with the tolerably rich harvest of my hadji dealings amongst the turkomans, had { } abundantly provided for me, so that i was in a position to hire a camel for myself alone; but i was dissuaded by hadji bilal and sultan mahmoud, who remarked that an appearance of wretchedness calculated to excite compassion was the best guarantee for safety amongst these nomads; while their covetousness was sure to be excited by the slightest sign of affluence. a suspicion of wealth might convert the best friend into a foe. they named several of the hadjis who were well provided with means, and who, nevertheless, for the sake of prudence, were obliged to wander on in rags and on foot. i admitted the necessity, and secured a joint share in a camel, only stipulating for permission to make use of a kedjeve (pair of wooden baskets, hanging down from the two sides of the camel), as i should find it very fatiguing, with my lame foot and without cessation, to ride day and night forty stations, squeezed with another into the same wooden saddle. at first, ilias objected, because, according to him (and he was indeed right), the kedjeve in the desert would have been a double burden for the poor beast. khandjan, however, at last persuaded him, and he consented. on the journey to khiva, which we were to perform in twenty days, and of which everyone spoke in a manner to make us feel fearful misgivings, i should at least have the consolation of being able now and then to sleep a little; but what pleased me most in the whole arrangement was, that i should have for my _vis-à-vis_ and 'equipoise,' as the two kedjeve were termed, my bosom friend hadji bilal, whose society began by degrees to become indispensable for me. after the dialogue was over, we paid, as is the custom, the hire beforehand. hadji bilal said a fatiha; and after ilias { } had passed his fingers through his beard, consisting, it is true, of only a few straggling hairs, we had no occasion to take any other steps, and we but begged that the departure might be hastened as much as possible. this, however, he could not promise, as it depended upon the kervanbashi of the khan, who, with his buffaloes, was to place himself at the head of our karavan. in a few days we were ready to start for etrek, our rendezvous. after the preparations had been completed i burnt with twofold ardour to quit gömüshtepe: for, first, we had lost time here, and i perceived that the hot season was more and more advancing, and we feared that the rain-water, still to be found in the desert, would become scarcer; and secondly, i began to grow uneasy at the ridiculous reports which were in circulation respecting me. whilst many saw in me merely a pious dervish, others could not rid themselves of the idea that i was a man of influence, an envoy of the sultan, in correspondence with the turkish ambassador in teheran, who was bringing a thousand muskets with him, and was engaged in a plot against russia and persia. had this come to the ears of the russians in ashourada, they would have certainly laughed at it, but still it might have led to enquiries respecting the singular stranger; and the discovery of my disguise might have involved a cruel, perhaps a life-long captivity. i therefore begged hadji bilal repeatedly at least to leave gömüshtepe, but his previous impatience had given way to absolute indifference as soon as ilias had engaged with us; on my urging him, he even answered how ridiculously childish it was for me to seek to anticipate the decrees of destiny. 'thy haste,' said he to me, 'is all thrown away; thou must perforce { } remain on the görghen's banks until the nasib (fate) has decreed that thou shouldst drink water in another place; and no one knows whether this will occur at an early or a late period.' only imagine what effect an answer so oriental was calculated to produce upon a mind that had just cause to feel impatience! i saw, however, but too well, the impossibility of escape, and so submitted to my fate. about this time, it happened that some karaktchi had, by treachery, in one of their depredatory expeditions, seized upon five persians. one of these was a man of property. the robbers had sailed in a vessel up beyond karatepe, under the pretence of purchasing a cargo from the village of the persians. the bargain was soon made; and scarcely had the unsuspicious persians appeared with their goods upon the sea-shore, than they were seized, bound hand and foot, buried up to their necks in their own wheat, and forcibly carried off to gömüshtepe. i was present when these unfortunates were unpacked, so to say. one of them was also dangerously wounded; and i heard the turkomans themselves characterise the act as a deed of shame. even the russians in ashourada interested themselves in the affair, and threatened a landing if the prisoners were not immediately set at liberty. as the robbers resolutely refused to let their prize go, i thought that now the rest of the turkomans, who run common risk from the russians, would compel their countrymen to give way. not at all; they ran up and down, distributing arms, in order, should the russians land, to give them a warm reception. it may be interesting to know that i was also appointed to shoulder a musket, and great was my embarrassment when i reflected upon whom i should be expected to fire. { } happily, no attempt was made to carry out the threat. [footnote ] [footnote : let not the reader be surprised by the equivocal attitude of the russian authorities. persia regards every landing of the russian forces on the coasts as a hostile invasion of its own soil, and prefers to endure the depredations of the turkomans rather than avail itself of the russian arms, which might, it is true, in particular cases, be of service to them, but would not fail, on the whole, to be most detrimental.] [arrangements with khulkhan; turkoman expedition to steal horses in persia; its return.] next morning a russian steamer came quite close to the shore, but the matter was disposed of by a political manoeuvre; that is to say, the turkomans gave hostages for the future, but the persians remained in chains. the wealthy prisoner paid a ransom of ducats; another, who was crippled in both hands and feet, and was not worth the sum of four ducats, was set free in honour of the russians; but the three others--strong men--were loaded with still heavier chains, and led away to the usual place of torture for the slaves, at etrek. the name of etrek, which is given both to a river and the inhabited district in its vicinity, is a word of terror and a curse for the unfortunate inhabitants of mazendran and taberistan. the persian must be very incensed when he allows the words 'etrek biufti!' (may you be driven to etrek!) to escape his lips. as it was fixed for the rendezvous of our karavan, i was soon to have the opportunity of seeing closely into this nest of horror. khandjan had also had the goodness to recommend me as guest to kulkhan the pir (grey-beard) of the karaktchi. he came to us very opportunely. the old sinner had a sombre repulsive physiognomy. he did not by any means meet me in a friendly manner when i was transferred to his hospitality. he examined my { } features a long time, occasionally whispering something in the ear of khandjan, and seemed determined to discover in me more than other people had seen. the cause of this distrust i soon detected. kulkhan had in his youth travelled through the southern parts of russia, in company with khidr khan, who was in the service of the czar. he had also long lived at tiflis, and was pretty familiar with our european modes of existence. he remarked that he had seen many nations, but never the osmanlis. he had heard it said of them that they had sprung from a tribe of turkomans, whom besides they resembled in every respect; and that his astonishment was great to distinguish in me quite opposite characteristics. hadji bilal remarked that his own information upon the subject was not good, and that he had actually lived several years in roum, without having occasion to make any similar observation; whereupon kulkhan told us he would return two days afterwards, early in the morning, to his ova in etrek, recommended us to make ourselves ready for our journey, inasmuch as without his conduct we should be unable to travel hence to etrek, although only a distance of twelve miles; and, in short, that he was only waiting the return of his son kolman [footnote ] from the alaman (predatory expedition) to the persian frontiers, in quest of some fine mares. [footnote : properly kulumali.] the return of his son from this piratical adventure was awaited by kulkhan with almost the same feelings as those with which a father amongst us would expect his son coming home from an heroic expedition, or other honourable enterprise. he also informed us that we might walk forwards a little way down the banks of the görghen, for his son { } was to return about this time, and we should then see something worth seeing. as i had nothing at that moment else to do, i was not displeased to comply with the invitation. i mixed with the crowd which was looking, with the greatest impatience, for the first sight of the party. at last eight mounted turkomans appeared on the opposite bank, bringing ten led horses with them. i thought that now the expectant multitude would give vent to their enthusiasm in hurrahs, but they uttered no sound; all measured with greedy eyes and speechless admiration those who were approaching. the latter dashed into the görghen, across which in an instant they swam to the bank on our side, where, dismounting, they extended their hands with indescribable earnestness to their relatives. whilst the seniors were passing the spoil in review with the greatest attention, the young heroes were occupied in arranging their dress. lifting their heavy fur caps, they wiped the sweat from head and forehead. the whole spectacle was splendid. whatever my contempt for the robbers and their abominable doings, my eye fell still with particular pleasure upon these young men, who, in their short riding dresses, with their bold looks, and hair falling to their breasts in curly locks as they laid aside their weapons, were the admiration of all. even the gloomy kulkhan seemed cheerful: he introduced his son to us, and after hadji bilal had bestowed his benediction upon him, we separated. the next morning we were to proceed from gömüshtepe, accompanied by kulkhan, his son, and stolen horses, to etrek. { } chapter vi. departure from gÖmÜshtepe character of our late host turkoman mounds or tombs disagreeable adventure with wild boars plateau to the north of gÖmÜshtepe nomad habits turkoman hospitality the last goat persian slave commencement of the desert a turkoman wife and slave etrek persian slaves russian sailor slave proposed alliance between yomuts and tekke rendezvous with the kervanbashi tribe kem adieu to etrek afghan makes mischief description of karavan. _gens confinis hyrcaniae, cultu vitae aspera et latrociniis assueta_.-- q. curtii ruf. lib. vi. cap. . [departure from gömüshtepe; character of our late host] at noon the following day i left gömüshtepe with my most intimate fellow-travellers, accompanied for some time by khandjan and all my other friends. kandjan went on foot with us nearly a league on our way, as is the custom amongst the nomads in the case of very esteemed guests. i entreated him several times to return, but fruitlessly; he insisted upon punctually fulfilling all the rules of ancient turkoman hospitality, that i might never afterwards have any ground of complaint against him. to say the truth, my heart was very heavy when i extricated myself from his last embrace, for i had known in him one of the most honourable of men. without any interested motive, he had not only for a long time entertained me and five other pilgrims in his own { } house, but had given me every explanation that i had required. i feel even now pained that i cannot make him any return for his kindness, but still more that i was forced to deceive so sincere a friend by any mystery. [turkoman mounds or tombs; disagreeable adventure with wild boars] our path was north-easterly, departing more and more from the sea-shore, in the direction of the two great mounds, of which one bears the name of köresofi, the other that of altin tokmak. besides these mounds, one discovers here and there numerous joszka (turkoman barrows); with these exceptions, the district is one boundless flat. scarcely a quarter of a league from gömüshtepe, we found ourselves proceeding through splendid meadows, where the grass was as high as the knee, and of a delicious odour. it all withers away without being of service to any one, for the inhabitants of gömüshtepe are tchomru (that is, not cattle-breeders). what lovely villages might flourish in this well-watered district; what animated life might here reign, instead of the stillness of death! our small karavan, consisting of the camels belonging to ilias and of six horses, kept close together, for kulkhan affirmed that there were hereabouts karaktchis who were not under his orders, and who would assail him if they felt themselves strong enough to do so. ilias, this once, was pleased to spare me my ride upon the camel; he took from kulkhan one of the stolen horses, upon which i was to ride as far as etrek. unfortunately, as it happened, emir mehemmed, the afghan opium-eater from karatepe, who had already fastened himself upon our karavan, had remained on foot, and whenever we had to traverse any puddle or other wet ground, i could not refuse to take him on my saddle, and then he grasped my clothes so tightly that i often { } thought i should be thrown down. this partnership ride made me run much risk when we were obliged to cut our way through the great marshes, covered with reeds, which swarmed with herds of wild boars, numerous beyond conception. kulkhan and ilias rode before, to find a circuitous way, to enable us to avoid hundreds of these animals, whose proximity we perceived, not only by their incessant grunting, but more especially by the cracking sound caused by their movements amongst the reeds. whilst i was riding on with attentive ear, my horse suddenly shied and took a great bound sideways. i had hardly time to look round to ascertain the cause, when i and my comrade lay stretched upon the ground. the loud laughter of my companions, who were a few paces from us, mingled with a strange howling. i turned myself round, and found that i had been thrown upon two wild boars of tender age; it was their mother that had caused our horse to shy, but now, rendered savage by the cry of her young ones, she stood showing her tusks at no great distance from us, and would most certainly have charged us, had not shirdjan, the cousin of ilias, come to our aid, and barred the way with his extended lance. whether it was owing to the bravery of the young turkoman, or the silence of the young pigs--now liberated from their constrained position--i cannot say, but the incensed mother beat a retreat, and, with her face still to the foe, hastened back to her lair, which we had not been slow to abandon. kulkhan's son had in the meantime secured our horse, that had escaped. he restored him to me with the remark that 'i might regard myself as lucky, for that a death by the wound of a wild boar would send even the most pious musselman nedjis (unclean) { } into the next world, where a hundred years' burning in purgatorial fire would not purge away his uncleanness.' [illustration] intruding upon the haunts of the wild boar. [plateau to the north of gömüshtepe; nomad habits] after having continued our way for about four hours in the above-named direction, amidst marshes and meadows, i noticed that we had gained the sloping sides of the plateau that extends north from gömüshtepe, for not only the elevations, but the persian mountains on the frontiers themselves, began gradually to disappear; only a few groups of tents, in the vicinity of which camels were grazing, were visible at a great distance, and although, on all the four sides, the most lovely verdure enchanted the eye, the eastern district which i had visited before with kizil akhond, is far more thickly peopled. there being no river like the görghen, the well-water, of which the people make use, is exhausted by the time the rich meadows have sufficiently fattened their sheep. tents, consequently, are only to be seen here in may and in june. one of these groups of tents, peopled by the dependents of kulkhan, was to give us shelter this night, as etrek was still six miles [footnote ] distant--a whole day's journey for our heavily-laden camels. due notice had been given of our approach, and my hungry fellow-travellers soon saw in the rising smoke the prospect of a good supper. although gömüshtepe is only four miles distant from this spot, the journey took us nearly eight hours, and this first ride had tolerably wearied both man and beast. [footnote : the reader is requested to understand, here and elsewhere, german miles.] [turkoman hospitality; the last goat] the young nephew of kulkhan advanced ten paces before the tents to welcome us; and, whilst ilias and the afghan were the special guests of kulkhan, i was quartered with the hadjis in the small tent of allah nazr. { } this old turkoman was beside himself from joy that heaven had sent him guests; the recollection of that scene will never pass from my mind. in spite of our protestations to the contrary, he killed a goat, the only one which he possessed, to contribute to our entertainment. at a second meal, which we partook with him next day, he found means to procure bread also, an article that had not been seen for weeks in his dwelling. whilst we attacked the dish of meat, he seated himself opposite to us, and wept, in the exactest sense of the expression, tears of joy. allah nazr would not retain any part of the goat he had killed in honour of us. the horns and hoofs, which were burned to ashes, and were to be employed for the galled places on the camels, he gave to ilias; but the skin, stripped off in one piece, he destined to serve as my water-vessel, and after having well rubbed it with salt, and dried it in the sun, he handed it over to me. [persian slave] the arrival of a slave, one of the five of whom i spoke in the last chapter, who had fallen into the snare so treacherously laid for them, detained kulkhan and our party a day. this poor persian was transferred, for chastisement, to kulkhan, who had the peculiar reputation of being able most easily to ascertain from a captive whether he possessed sufficient means to enable his relatives to ransom him, or whether, being without relatives or property, he ought to be sent on to khiva for sale. the former alternative is much the more agreeable one to the turkomans, as they may demand any sum they please. the persian, who is cunning even in his misfortune, always contrives to conceal his real position; he is therefore subjected to much ill-treatment, { } until by the lamentations which he forwards to his home his captors have squeezed from his friends the highest possible ransom, and it is only when that arrives that his torment ceases. the other alternative is worse for both parties; the robber, after much expenditure, only gets at last the current price in the slave-market, and the unfortunate persian is removed to a distance of some hundreds of miles from his country, which he very rarely sees again. kulkhan has, as before mentioned, great experience in this department; his latest victim arrived before evening, and the next day the journey was continued, after i had been warmly embraced by allah nazr, who was just as much a turkoman as kulkhan. [commencement of the desert] this day i took my seat for the first time in my wooden basket on the camel, having, however, some sacks of flour for my equipoise, as hadji bilal wished on this occasion to deprive himself of the pleasure. our route was always in a northerly direction, and we had scarcely advanced two leagues, when the verdure ceased, and for the first time we found ourselves in the dismal strong-smelling salt ground of the wilderness. what our eyes encountered here was a good specimen; a low foreland called kara sengher (black wall) elevated itself at a distance of about eight miles to the north of gömüshtepe. the nearer we approached this hill, the looser the soil became; near to its foot we fell upon a real morass, and our march was attended by increasing difficulties in the slippery mud, in which the camels, with their spongy feet, slid at each step--indeed, mine threatened to upset both myself and my basket into the dirt. i preferred dismounting _proprio motu_, and after tramping an hour and a half through the mud, arrived at last at { } kara sengher, whence we soon reached the ova of kulkhan. on arriving, i was greatly surprised by kulkhan's immediately leading me into his tent, and charging me earnestly not to quit it, until he should call me. i began to suspect something wrong, when i heard how he was cursing his women, accusing them of always mislaying the chains, and ordering them to bring them to him immediately. searching gloomily for them he returned frequently to the tent without addressing a word to me: moreover hadji bilal did not show himself--he who so seldom left me to myself. sunk in the most anxious reflections, i at last heard the rattling sound of fetters approaching, and saw the persian who had come with us enter the tent dragging with his wounded feet the heavy chains after him; for he was the party on whose account kulkhan was making these preparations. he was not long in making his appearance. he ordered tea to be prepared, and after we had partaken of it, he directed me to rise, and led me to a tent which had been in the meantime set up; he wished it to be a surprise for me. such was the object he had in view in his whole conduct. notwithstanding this, i could never feel any attachment to him, for how great the difference between him and khandjan clearly appeared from this, that during the ten days i was his guest, this tea was the only repast kulkhan's hospitality accorded me. i was afterwards informed of his treacherous plans, to which he would most certainly have given effect, had not kizil akhond, whom he particularly dreaded, charged him to treat me with every possible respect. { } [a turkoman wife and slave] the tent which i now occupied, in company with ten of my travelling companions, did not belong to kulkhan, but was the property of another turkoman who, with his wife--formerly his slave, sprung from the tribe of the karakalpak--joined our party for khiva. i learnt that their object in proceeding to khiva was that this woman, who had been carried off in a surprise by night and brought hither, might ascertain whether her former husband, whom she had left severely wounded, had afterwards perished; who had purchased her children, and where they now were; and--which she was particularly anxious to know--what had become of her daughter, a girl in her twelfth year, whose beauty she described to me with tears in her eyes. the poor woman, by extraordinary fidelity and laboriousness, had so enchained her new master, that he consented to accompany her on her sorrowful journey of enquiry. i was always asking him what he would do if her former husband were forthcoming, but his mind on that point was made up--the law guaranteed him his possession. 'the nassib (fate),' said he, 'intended to bestow on me heidgul' (properly eidgul, 'rose of the festival'), 'and none can withstand nassib.' there was besides, amongst the other travellers freshly arrived, who were to journey with ilias, a dervish named hadji siddik, a consummate hypocrite, who went about half naked, and acted as groom to the camels in the desert; it was not until after we had arrived in bokhara that we learnt that he had sixty ducats sewn up in his rags. [etrek; persian slaves] the whole company inhabited the tents in common, expecting that the khan's kervanbashi would come up as soon as possible, and that we should commence our journey through the desert. the delay was painful to us all. i became alarmed on account { } of the decrease of my stock of flour, and i began at once to diminish my daily allowance by two handfuls. i also baked it without leaven in the hot ashes; for the produce is greater, it remains longer on the stomach, and hunger torments one less. fortunately we could make short mendicant excursions; nor had we the least reason to complain of any lack of charity on the part of the turkomans of etrek, who are notwithstanding the most notorious robbers. we passed, indeed, very few of their tents without seeing in them two or three persians heavily laden with chains. [russian sailor slave] it was also here in etrek, in the tent of a distinguished turkoman named kotchak khan, that i encountered a russian, formerly a sailor in the naval station at ashourada. we entered the above-named chief's abode, to take our mid-day repose; and scarcely had i been presented to him as a roumi (osmanli), when our host remarked; 'now i will give thee a treat. we know the relation in which the osmanlis stand with the russians: thou shalt behold one of thy arch-enemies in chains.' i was forced to behave as if i was highly delighted. the poor russian was led in, heavily chained: his countenance was sickly, and very sorrowful. i felt deeply moved, but was careful not to betray my feelings by any expression. 'what would you do with this efendi,' said kotchak khan, 'if you encountered him in russia? go and kiss his feet.' the unfortunate russian was about to approach me, but i forbade, making at the same time the observation, i had only to-day begun my gusl (great purification), and that i did not want to render myself unclean by my contact with this unbeliever; that it would even be more agreeable to me if he disappeared immediately from before my eyes, for that _this_ nation { } was my greatest aversion. they motioned him to withdraw, which he accordingly did, throwing at me a sharp look. as i learnt later, he was one of two sailors from the new station at ashourada; the other had died in captivity about a year before. they had fallen into the hands of the karaktchis some years previously, in one of their night expeditions. their government offered to ransom them, but the turkomans demanded an exorbitant sum (five hundred ducats for one); and as during the negotiation tcherkes bay, the brother of kotshak khan, was sent by the russians to siberia, where he died, the liberation of the unfortunate christians became matter of still greater difficulty; and now the survivor will soon succumb under the hardships of his captivity, as his comrade has done before him. [footnote ] [footnote : when i afterwards drew the attention of the russians to the occurrence, they laboured to excuse themselves, saying that they did not desire to accustom the turkomans to such large ransoms, for that with any encouragement these bold robbers would devote themselves night and day to their profitable depredations.] such are the ever-fluctuating impressions of hospitable virtues and unheard-of barbarisms produced by these nomads upon the minds of travellers! sated and overflowing with their kindness and charity, i often returned to our abode, when kulkhan's persian slave, already mentioned, would perhaps implore me for a drop of water, as, according to his tale, they had for two entire days given him dried salt fish instead of bread, and although he had been forced to work the whole day in the melon fields, they had denied him even a drop of water. luckily i was alone in the tent; the sight of the bearded man bathed in tears made me forget all risks: i handed him my water-skin, and he { } satisfied his thirst whilst i kept watch at the door. then thanking me warmly, he hastened away. this unfortunate man, maltreated by every one, was especially tormented by kulkhan's second wife, herself once a persian slave, who was desirous of showing how zealous a convert she had become. even in gömüshtepe these cruel scenes were loathsome to me: judge, then, how my feelings must have revolted when i learnt to regard the last-named place as the extreme of humanity and civilisation! tents and dwellers therein became objects of loathing to me. [proposed alliance between yomuts and tekke] still no news came of the arrival of the kervanbashi, although all who had desired to join our karavan were already assembled. new friends were greeted and reciprocal acquaintances formed; and very often did i hear the question mooted as to the route likely to be selected by the kervanbashi. we were engaged in one of these conversations, when one of the etrekites brought us the cheering intelligence that the tekke, whose hostility is the dread of the karavans during the greatest part of their journey to khiva, had sent a peaceful embassy to the yomuts, proposing, at length, a reconciliation, and an attack with combined forces, upon their common enemy, the persians. as i propose to touch upon this political transaction in the next chapter, suffice it here to say, that the occurrence was incidentally of the greatest advantage to us. they explained to me that there were from etrek to khiva three different ways, the choice between them being determined by considerations as to the numbers forming the karavan. { } [rendezvous with the kervanbashi] the routes are as follows:-- . the first, close along the shore of the caspian, behind the greater balkan, which direction it follows for a two days' journey towards the north from these mountains, and then, after proceeding ten days, the traveller has to turn to the east, in which quarter khiva lies. this way is only accessible for the smaller karavans, as it affords but little water, but presents as little danger from attacks, except in times of extraordinary revolutions, when the kasaks (kirghis) or the karakalpaks send hither their alaman. . the middle route, which follows a northerly direction only as far as the original ancient channel of the oxus, and then, passing between the great and the little balkhan, turns to the north-east towards khiva. . the third is the straight route and the shortest; for while we require twenty-four days for the first, and twenty for the second, this one may be performed in fourteen. immediately on leaving etrek one takes a north-easterly direction, through the göklen and tekke turkomans. at every station wells of sweet drinkable water occur. of course a karavan must be on good terms with the tribes above named, and must count from two to three thousand men, otherwise the passage is impossible. how great then was my joy, when one evening a messenger from ata-bay brought us the intelligence that the kervanbashi would leave his encampment early the following morning, and would give us rendezvous the day after at noon, on the opposite bank of the etrek, whence we were to proceed all together upon our great journey through the desert! ilias issued orders for us all to complete our preparations as speedily as possible. we therefore that very same evening got our bread ready; we once more salted our large pieces of camel-flesh, which we had received from the nomads in payment for the benedictions we had lavished on them. who then was { } happier than i, when the next day i mounted the kedjeve with hadji bilal, and in my creaking seat slowly left etrek, borne forwards by the wave-like pace of the camel? for the sake of security, kulkhan was pleased to regard it as necessary to give us his escort for this day; for although we numbered from fifteen to twenty muskets, it was yet very possible that we might have to encounter a superior force of robbers, in which case the presence of kulkhan might prove of the most important service, as the greater part of the etrek bandits were under his spiritual guidance, and followed his orders blindfold. i had almost forgotten to mention that our kulkhan was renowned, not only as the grey-beard of the karaktchi, but also as sofi (ascetic), a title he bore upon his seal: of the pious appellation he was not a little proud. i had indeed before my eyes one of the best-defined pictures of hypocrisy when i saw kulkhan, the author of so many cruelties, sitting there amongst his spiritual disciples: he who had ruined the happiness of so many families, expounding what was prescribed respecting the holy purifications, and the ordinances directing the close cutting of the moustache! teacher and scholar seemed alike inspired. in the confident assurances of their own piety, how many of these robbers were already dreaming of their sweet rewards in paradise! [tribe kem] to avoid the marshes formed by the overflowing of the etrek, our route turned now to the north-west, now to the north-east, for the most part over a sandy district on which very few tents were visible; on the edge of the desert we observed about tents of the turkoman clan kem. i was told that this race had time out of mind separated itself from the yomut { } turkomans, to whom they properly belonged, and had inhabited the edge of the desert; their great propensity to thieving is the cause why all the other tribes make war upon them and treat them as enemies, so that their numbers never increase. near their resorts we came upon many stragglers from our karavan, who did not dare to pass on without our company; and according to all appearances the kemites would have assailed us, had they not seen at our head kulkhan, the mighty scarecrow. a quarter of an hour's journey from their encampment farther to the north, we crossed a little arm of the etrek, whose waters had already begun to have a very salt taste, a sign that its bed would soon be dry. the interval between its farther bank and a second and still smaller arm of the same river is alternately a salt bottom and a fine meadow, thickly overgrown with monstrous fennel, which took us a whole hour to traverse. this deep stream was like a ditch, and on account of its stiff loamy bank presented considerable impediments to our progress; several camels fell with their loads into the water: it was shallow, but still the wetting they received rendered the packs heavier and added greatly to our labour in reaching the hill on the opposite side, named delili burun. by two o'clock in the afternoon we had only advanced four miles on our way, notwithstanding our early start in the morning; nevertheless the resolution was taken to make a halt here, as it was only the next morning at mid-day that we were to meet the kervanbashi on the other side of the etrek. { } the hill above named, which is but a sort of promontory jutting out from a long chain of inconsiderable hills stretching to the south-east, affords an extensive and fine view. to the west we discover the caspian sea like a range of blue clouds; the mountains of persia are also distinguishable: but the greatest interest attaches to the mountain plain to our south, whose limit the eye cannot discern, on which the scattered groups of tents in many places have the appearance of mole-hills. almost the whole of etrek, with the river flowing through it, lies before us, and the places where the river spreads over both banks produce upon the eye the effect of lakes. as we were near the encampment of the kem, we were counselled by kulkhan, who thought proper to tarry with us this one more night, to keep a sharp look-out; and evening had not closed in before we posted watches, which, relieved from time to time, observed every movement around us. understanding that this station formed the last outpost towards the great desert, i profited by the opportunity which the return of our escort afforded, and spent the afternoon in writing letters whilst my companions were sleeping. besides the small pieces of paper concealed in the wool of my bokhariot dress for the purpose of notes, i had two sheets of blank paper in the koran which was suspended from my neck in a little bag: upon these i wrote two letters, one to haydar effendi, addressed to teheran, and the second to khandjan, requesting him to forward the former. [footnote ] [footnote : upon my return i found at the turkish embassy this letter, acquainting my friends with my being about to commence my journey in the desert, as well as other communications which i had sent on from gömüshtepe. my good friend khandjan had forwarded them with the greatest zeal and exactitude.] { } the next morning a four hours' march brought us to the banks of the etrek, properly so called. a good deal of time was devoted to finding the shallowest points where the river could be most readily forded, a task by no means easy, for although the usual breadth of the river is only from twelve to fifteen paces, this was now doubled by the water having overflowed its banks, and the softened loamy ground caused a real martyrdom to the poor camels, so that our turkomans were justified in their long hesitation. the current, indeed, was not very strong, still the water came up to the bellies of the camels; and the uncertain wavering steps of our labouring, wading animals dipped our kedjeve now on the right side, now on the left, into the troubled waters of the etrek: one false step and i should have been plunged into mud and dirt, and at no small risk have had to make my way by swimming to the opposite bank. happily all crossed in good order, and scarcely had we come to a halt when the anxiously-expected karavan of the kervanbashi came in sight, having in its van three buffaloes (two cows and a bull), to whose health-promising advent the sick lord of khiva could hardly look forward with greater impatience than we had done. the reader will remember that hadji bilal, yusuf, some foot travellers and myself, had been obliged to separate from the main body of our dervish karavan, because the others had found greater difficulties than myself in finding camels to hire. as we had heard no tidings of them in etrek, we began to be anxious lest these poor people might have no opportunity of following us. we were, therefore, greatly rejoiced to see them all coming up in good condition in the karavan that now joined us. we kissed and hugged one another with the heartiness of brethren who meet { } after a long separation. my emotion was great when i once more saw around me the hadji salih and sultan mahmoud, and all the others too; yes, all my mendicant companions; for, although i regarded hadji bilal as my dearest friend, i was compelled to avow to myself my warm attachment to them all, without distinction. [adieu to etrek] as the river etrek afforded us the last opportunity of sweet water until, after twenty days' journey, we should refresh ourselves on the banks of the oxus, i counselled my companions not to let the opportunity slip, but at least, this last time, to drink our fill of tea. we therefore brought forward the tea-vessels, i proffered my fresh-baked bread, and long afterwards did we remember the luxury and abundance of this festival held in honour of our meeting. [afghan makes mischief] in the meantime also arrived the kervanbashi who was to be our leader and protector in the desert. as i attached great importance to being presented to him under good auspices, i went amongst the others accompanied by hadji salih and messud, who had mentioned me to him on the way. let the reader then picture to himself my wonder and alarm when amandurdi (such was his name), a corpulent and good-tempered turkoman, although he greeted my friends with great distinction, received me with striking coldness; and the more hadji salih was disposed to turn the conversation upon me, the more indifferent he became: he confined himself to saying, 'i know this hadji already.' i made an effort not to betray my embarrassment. i was about to withdraw, when i noticed the angry glances that ilias, who was present, darted at the emir mehemmed, the crazy opium-eater, whom he thus signalised as the cause of what had just occurred. { } we withdrew, and hardly had the occurrence been recounted to hadji bilal, when he grew angry and exclaimed, 'this wretched sot of an afghan has already expressed himself in etrek to the effect that our hadji reshid, who was able to give him instructions in the koran and in arabic, was only a frenghi in disguise' (thereupon adding, three different times, the phrase estag farullah! 'god pardon me my sins'); 'and in spite of my assuring him that we had received him from the hands of the ambassador of our great sultan, and that he had with him a pass sealed with the seal of the khalife, [footnote ] he still refuses to believe and persists in his defamation. as i remark, he has gained the ear of the kervanbashi, but he shall repent it on our arrival in khiva, where there are kadis and ulemas; we shall teach him there what the consequence is of representing a pious musselman as an unbeliever.' [footnote : follower of mahomed, that is, the sultan of constantinople.] i now began to understand the whole mystery. emir mehemmed, born at kandahar, had, after the occupation of his native city by the english, been compelled to fly on account of some crime he had committed. he had had frequent opportunities of seeing europeans, and had recognised me as a european by my features. consequently, from the very first moment he regarded me as a secret emissary travelling with hidden treasures under my mendicant disguise, one whom he might succeed in plundering at any time he wished, as he would always have at his service a formidable menace, namely, 'denunciation.' often had he counselled me to separate from those mendicants, and to join his own society; but i never omitted replying that dervish and merchant were elements too { } heterogeneous to offer any prospect of a suitable partnership; that it would be impossible to speak of sincere friendship until he had given up his vicious habit of opium-eating, and devoted himself to pious purifications and prayers. the resolute stand i took--and indeed i had no other course--made him furious; and as from his impiety he was the object of the hadjis' aversion, i can only regard his notorious enmity as a particular instance of good fortune. [description of karavan.] about two hours after this occurrence, the kervanbashi, who now assumed the command over the whole karavan, pointed out to us that everyone ought to fill his water-skin with water, as we should not come to another well for three days. i therefore took my goat-skin and went with the rest to the stream. never having hitherto suffered much from the torment of thirst, i was filling it carelessly, when my colleagues repaired my error with the remark that in the desert every drop of water had life in it, and that this fount of existence should be kept by everyone as the 'apple of his eye.' the preparations completed, the camels were packed, the kervanbashi had them counted, and we found that we possessed eighty camels, that we were forty travellers in all, amongst whom twenty-six were hadjis without weapons, and the rest tolerably armed turkomans of the tribe yomut, with one Özbeg and one afghan. consequently we formed one of those small karavans, that set out on their way in right oriental fashion, leaving everything to fate. when we had all seated ourselves, we had still to take leave of our turkoman escort, who had led us to the margin of the desert. the fatiha of the farewell was intoned on the one side by hadji bilal, and on the other by kulkhan. { } after the last amen had been said, and had been followed by the inseparable stroking of the beard, the two parties divided in contrary directions; and when our late escort had recrossed the etrek and lost sight of us, they sent a few shots after us as a farewell. from this point we proceeded in a straight direction towards the north. for further information on the political and social relations of the turkomans, i beg to refer the reader to the second part of this volume. { } chapter vii. kervanbashi insists that author should take no notes eid mehemmed and his brother's noble conduct guide loses his way kÖrentaghi, ancient ruins, probably greek little and great balkan ancient bed of the oxus vendetta sufferings from thirst. _c'était une obscurité vaste comme la mer, au sein de laquelle le guide s'égarait . . . où périt le voyageur effrayé_.--victor hugo, from _omaiah hen aiedz_. [kervanbashi insists that author should take no notes] without being able to discover the slightest trace of a path indicated by foot of camel or hoof of other animal, our karavan proceeded towards the north, directing its course in the day by the sun, and at night by the pole star. the latter is called by the turkomans, from its immovability, temir kazik (the iron peg). the camels were attached to one another in a long row, and led by a man on foot; and, although there was no positive place of honour, it was regarded as a certain sort of distinction to be placed near the kervanbashi. the districts on the further side of etrek, which form the foreground of the great desert, are indicated by the name of bogdayla. we proceeded for two hours after sunset over a sandy bottom, which was not however particularly loose, and which presented an undulating, wavy surface, in no place of much elevation. by degrees the sand disappeared, and about midnight we had so firm a clayey soil under us, { } that the regulated tread of the distant camels echoed as if some one was beating time in the still night. the turkomans name such spots takir; and as the one on which we were had a reddish colour, it bore the name kizil-takir. we marched uninterruptedly till it was nearly dawn of day; altogether we had hardly advanced six miles, as they did not wish at the outset to distress the camels, but especially because the greatest personages in our company of travellers were unquestionably the buffaloes, of which one was in an interesting situation, and could not with her unwieldy body keep up even with the ordinary step of the camel,--consequently there was a halt for repose until eight o'clock in the morning; and whilst the camels were eating their fill of thistles and other plants of the desert, we had time to take our breakfast, which had not yet ceased to be luxurious, as our skins were still richly stored with fresh water, and so our heavy unleavened bread slipped down aided by its sweet draughts. as we had encamped close together, i remarked that the kervanbashi, ilias, and the chiefs of my companions, were conversing, and, as they did so, kept casting glances at me. it was easy for me to divine the subject of their conversation. i pretended, however, to pay no attention; and after having for some time fervently turned over the leaves of the koran, i made a movement as if i had proposed to take part in the conversation. when i had approached a few steps, i was met by honest ilias and hadji salih, who called me aside and told me that the kervanbashi was making many objections to my joining him on the journey to khiva, my appearance seeming suspicious to him; and he particularly feared the anger of the khan, as he had some years before { } conducted a frenghi envoy to khiva, who, in that single journey, took off a faithful copy of the whole route, and with his diabolical art had not forgotten to delineate any well or any hill on the paper. this had very much incensed the khan; he had had two men executed who had betrayed information, and the kervanbashi himself had only escaped with his life owing to the intercession of influential persons. 'after many objections,' said my friends, 'that we could not leave thee here behind in the desert, we have so far prevailed with him that he will take thee with him on the condition that thou wilt, first, permit thyself to be searched to see if thou hast any drawings or wooden pens (lead pencils), as the frenghis generally have; and secondly that thou promise to take away with thee no secret notes respecting the hills and routes, for in the contrary case thou must remain behind, were we even in the midst of the desert.' i heard all with the greatest patience, and, when they had finished, i played the part of one very angry, turned round to hadji salih, and, speaking so loud that the kervanbashi could not fail to hear, said: 'hadji, thou sawest me in teheran and knowest who i am; tell amandurdi (the name of the chief of our karavan) that it was by no means becoming in him as an honest man to lend ear to a drunken binamaz (one who does not repeat his prayers) like the afghan. we must not jest with religion, and he shall never again have an opportunity to assail one in so dangerous a particular; for he shall learn in khiva to know with whom he has to deal.' the last words uttered with great violence, so as to be heard through the whole karavan, caused my colleagues, particularly the poorer ones, to grow very warm, and had i { } not restrained them they would have assailed emir mehemmed, the malicious afghan. the person most surprised by this zeal of theirs was the kervanbashi himself; and i heard how he always contrived to repeat, in answer to the very different representations that were made to him, the same words, 'khudaïm bilir!' (god knows!) he was an extremely honest, good-humoured man, an oriental however, disposed, not so much out of malice as fondness for mysteries, to discover in me, any how and at all events, a stranger in disguise; and this, although he allowed himself on the one side to receive instruction from me in many a point of religion, and even in gömüshtepe had heard that i was acquainted with many books. my artful manoeuvre had, as i have said, diminished my danger; but i still saw to my great regret that the injurious suspicion increased with every step, and that i should have the greatest difficulty in talking even the shortest notes of my journey. i was very much annoyed at not daring to put any questions as to the names of the different stations; for however immense the desert, the nomads inhabiting the various oases have affixed a specific designation to every place, every hill, and every valley, so that if exactly informed i might have marked each place on the map of central asia. cunning has to be employed against cunning, and the scanty notices which i have been able to collect respecting the route is the fruit of an artifice with which i will not weary the reader. what bitter disappointment, what annoyance, must not the traveller feel who, after having through long struggles and great perils reached at length the fountain he longs for, cannot even then slake his thirst! { } [eid mehemmed and his brother's noble conduct] after the lapse of eight hours, we again set out; but our march, after having proceeded without interruption for two hours, gradually slackened. some of the turkomans dismounted, and occupied themselves busily to the right and to the left in carefully examining the smaller hills. as i learnt afterwards, one of our travelling companions, eid mehemmed, was desirous of discovering the tomb of his brother, who had fallen here in a combat the previous year. he had also brought a coffin with him to transport the corpse to khiva. it may have been about two o'clock in the afternoon when we stopped. they found the grave, and applied themselves to the task of opening it. after having laid the half-putrid body in the coffin and packed it in felt, accompanying the operation with recitations of the usual prayers and citations from the koran, in which i also had to take my part, we were treated with the details of the combat by an eye-witness. the intention of this man was to do honour to the departed, for praise such as he bestowed none but the noblest of men could deserve. 'we had in our karavan,' said the speaker, 'several persians, journeying from khiva to astrabad, and amongst them there was a very wealthy merchant, named mollah kaszim, from the city last named. he had for years been engaged in the traffic carried on between persia and khiva, and, having constant occasion to visit the latter country, was the guest of the deceased, and consequently under the safeguard of his hospitality, both in khiva and in the desert. it so happened that last year he was returning home with a large sum of money, and although dressed as a turkoman, and perfectly familiar with our language, his presence amongst us was detected by the haramzadeh (bastards) of etrek. they hastened to meet { } and assail us. in number they were superior, but in spite of that we maintained a combat that lasted eight hours. after we had killed two of their number, they called to us to surrender the fat persian dog, thereby meaning mollah kaszim, and that the fight would be at an end, for that they wanted nothing from us. that no one of us, still less the departed one, was disposed to consent to this, may readily be imagined; and although the persian himself, who feared the balls hissing about in all directions, begged that the fighting might be put an end to, and was desirous of surrendering himself as a prisoner, the battle had to be fought out. soon afterwards _he_' (and he pointed to the corpse) 'was pierced by a bullet. he fell from his horse, and the few words that he was able to utter were to the effect that he commended his guest, the persian, who was sobbing all the time like a child with terror, to his brother eid mehemmed. under the leadership of the latter we continued the contest till the morning, when the robbers retreated, with loss. after having buried the deceased here, we travelled on, and three days afterwards the persian was conducted to astrabad.' [guide loses his way] in commemoration of the sad event, eid mehemmed had bread baked here also, which he shared amongst us. we then started, keeping to the north, and proceeding through a great sterile plain. to make up for our loss of time we were obliged to journey the whole night without interruption. the weather was lovely, and, cowering in my basket, i long amused myself with the beautiful starry heavens, more beautiful and more sublime in the desert than anywhere else. i was at last overcome by sleep. perhaps i had scarcely reposed an hour, when i was harshly roused { } from my slumber, and heard on all sides the cry, 'hadji, look to thy kiblenuma (compass), we seem to have lost our way.' i awoke, and saw by the light of a piece of burning tinder that we were going in an easterly direction, instead of a northerly. the kervanbashi, alarmed, fearing our vicinity to the dangerous marshes, issued the command that we should not stir from the spot till the dawn of day. luckily we had only swerved from the right course about half-an-hour previously, at a moment when the sky was overcast. in despite of the delay we reached the appointed station, and our wearied beasts were let loose to make their meal upon the thorns and thistles. in the spot where we were encamped i saw with astonishment that my companions collected a great number of carrots, half a foot long, of the thickness of the thumb, and particularly well-flavoured and sweet. the inner part, however, was as hard as wood, and was uneatable, as was also the wild garlic, which we found here in large quantities. i seized the opportunity of giving myself a feast, boiling a good portion of carrots for my breakfast, and storing away a quantity in my girdle. to-day (may ) our way passed through a wild district cut up with ditches. i heard it said that each journey it assumes a different form, and presents different difficulties from the numerous steep places. the poor camels, some of them laden with very heavy burdens, suffered exceedingly--the dry sand giving way under their feet; so that having continually to mount and descend, they could hardly get a firm footing. it is remarkable that it is the custom here to fasten their annuals with a cord, one end of which is attached to the tail of the creature that precedes, the other to the { } perforated nose of the one that follows; and it is very painful to see how, as they are all so bound together, if one of the beasts in the line stands still a moment, the line in front continues to move on till the cord is torn away from the animal behind, who suffers thereby dreadful torture. to spare the poor animals we all dismounted where the route was bad, as to-day; and although my sufferings were great in the deep sand, i was forced to walk on foot four hours, although slowly, still without a halt. plodding on thus, i several times came in contact with the kervanbashi, who, after my last spirited conduct, loaded me with politeness; his nephew, a young frank-hearted turkoman from khiva, seemed to be particularly fond of my society. he had not seen his young wife since the year before, and his conversation always turned upon his ova (tent), as the rules of islamite politeness obliged him to name the object of his affections. [footnote ] khali mollah (this was his name) reposed the fullest confidence in my character as a dervish. i was very much surprised when he requested me to search in my koran a fal or prognostic regarding his family. i made the usual hocus pocus, shut my eyes, and fortunately opened the book at a place where women are spoken of (for the passages mumenin and mumenat frequently recur), in which my explanation of the arabian text--for here is the whole art--enchanted the young turkoman. he thanked me, and i was delighted to find that i had won his friendship. [footnote : according to the precepts of islam, it is very unbecoming to speak of one's wife, metaphors are used to express the idea, where the whole is taken to designate the part (_totum pro parte_). accordingly, the turk in society names his wife harem, _familia_; tcholuk tschodjuck; the persian terms her khane or ayal ü avlad, the former expression meaning house, the latter wife's child; the turkoman, ova; the central asiatic, balachaka, meaning children.] { } up to the present moment it was not clear which of the three ways the karavan would follow. the concealment of plan is in this country especially necessary, as one is never a single moment safe from surprise; and although nothing was said, it was still plain to all that the middle way would be chosen, for our water supply was running short, and necessity would force us, on the morrow at latest, to make for a well, which is only accessible provided peaceable relations permit the yomut shepherd to penetrate thither from ataboz. our evening march was a successful one; the camel-chain was not often rent asunder, or if any such accident occurred it was observed before the lapse of many minutes, and men were sent back to look up the missing animals. the karavan continued its march; and in order that the individual sent out in the dark night might not lose his way, one of the followers of the karavan had the particular duty assigned to him of holding with the other a dialogue at a distance, so that the words, which echoed sadly in the gloomy night, served as a guide; and yet woe to the wretch in case a contrary wind renders the sound inaudible! [körentaghi, ancient ruins, probably greek.] the next morning (may ) we discovered, in a north-easterly direction, the mountainous chain called the körentaghi. the buffalo-cow, near her time, compelled us all to adopt a slow pace, and it was afternoon before we approached close enough to be able to distinguish the outline of the lower part of the mountain. when in etrek, we had heard that this was the spot where, on account of the prevailing sentiments in favour of peace, we should meet yomuts; still they { } were not perfectly assured, and the greatest anxiety existed to know whether the news of a peace would be confirmed, or whether, in case the mountains were abandoned, we might not be surprised by some hostile horde. a courageous turkoman was sent on to ascertain how matters stood, and his progress was watched by all with anxious eyes. fortunately, as we approached, the different tents were distinguished, the alarm was dissipated, and the only desire was, to learn to what tribe the encampment belonged. whilst my fellow-travellers amused themselves with the view of the körentaghi and its green valleys, my heart beat within me for joy, as i believed that i was approaching ruins, probably of greek origin, which extended in a westerly direction from the above-named mountain. at the moment when the latter became visible, i had remarked to the south-west a single pillar, which from the distance produced upon the eye the effect of an animated colossal figure. as we mounted the plateau higher and higher i discerned, in the same direction, a second column, somewhat thicker than the former, but not so elevated, and now close to the mountain. i had the ruins, known as the meshedi misriyan, so near to me on the left that i was able even to distinguish the particular parts with precision. as none but yomuts were encamped here, it was resolved to make it a rest-day, and to employ it for the purchase of some camels. this accorded fully with my own wish, as it afforded me the opportunity of beholding the ruins from a closer proximity. the next morning (may ) i started, accompanied by ilias and some of the pilgrims. i was obliged to use many pretexts to induce the latter to visit a spot which they would have preferred avoiding { } as the abode of djins (genii). it was distant about half a league from our encampment, although the high walls of the square building, as well as the two entire and the two half-ruined towers in form of domes, seemed to be nearer to us. around these, and encircling the high wall, from six to eight feet broad and from forty to fifty high, there is a lower one, on the south side, quite in ruins, which must have served as an outwork to the fort, still erect; i regard the entire construction, as it rises amongst the other heaps of dilapidation, as a fortress of ancient date; and i think, to complete its system of defence, its builders must have formed the aqueduct, which runs in a south-westerly direction as far as the persian chain of mountains, whence it brought hither to the fortress water, for drinking purposes, a distance of english miles. my acquaintance with archaeology and architecture being limited, i admit my incompetency to form any precise judgment respecting ruins, certainly of high interest, except that i believe myself justified in affirming them to be of greek origin, because i have found the square bricks which compose them to resemble exactly, in quality, size, and colour, those of gömüshtepe, and the kizil alan (alexander's wall). [footnote ] [footnote : the turkomans recounted, with respect to the ruins, that god, from especial love to the brave turkomans, had placed the kaaba first here instead of transporting it to arabia, but that a green devil, who was at the same time lame, named gökleng (green hobbler) from whom the göklens were descended, had destroyed it. 'the insolent act of their ancestor is the reason,' added the savage etymologist, 'why we live in hostility with that tribe.'] { } besides these, i remarked a group of other ruins on the north summit of the körentaghi. we passed them by night, and as far as i could distinguish in the obscurity, there are six separate dome-like chapels still standing. to-day our karavan was visited by crowds of the nomads dwelling on the spot. some business was transacted, and bargains struck between the merchants and cattle-dealers of our karavan, and upon credit, too. they applied to me to draw up in writing their cheques. i was surprised to find that the debtor, instead of handing over his signature to tranquillise his creditor, put it into his own pocket; and this was the turkoman way of arranging the whole business. when i questioned the creditor as to this remarkable manner of procedure, his answer was, 'what have i to do with the writing? the debtor must keep it by him as a reminder of his debt.' in the evening, when we were ready to start, an event took place, for madame buffalo did us the honour of increasing our number by the addition of a healthy little calf, a subject of supreme delight to the kervanbashi; and not until we were actually on the route, did it occur to him that the poor little calf was not strong enough to accompany our march on foot, and that he must search for a more commodious place for it on one of the camels. as the only kedjeve was the one occupied by hadji bilal and myself, all eyes were directed to us. we were asked to cede our place to the new-born calf. my friend was cunning enough at once to evince his readiness to be of service, with the observation that he would, out of friendship to me, whose lameness rendered me less easy to accommodate with a seat, vacate his own, and content himself with any exchange. hardly had he surrendered his place to the young calf, than the extremely disagreeable smell of my new _vis-à-vis_ betrayed to me the real { } motive of my friend. by night it was endurable, as my slumbers were only disturbed by the frequent bleating of the calf; but in the daytime, particularly when the heat was very great, my situation became intolerable. happily my torments did not last long, for the calf succumbed the second day of its ride through the desert. [little and great balkan] from this day (may ) we reckoned two days to the great balkan, and thence twelve days to khiva (altogether fourteen days). during the whole time we should come to only four wells of bitter salt water, and should not encounter a single living human being. as we were still in the middle of may, our leader hoped to find in the lone places some rain-water (called kák). we had filled our skins with dirty water from the miserable cistern at körentaghi. the jolting on the backs of the camels had changed it into something very like mud, having a most nauseous taste, and yet we were obliged to make a very sparing use of it, for there was no hope of finding kák until we reached a station on the other side of the great balkan. our march, as we were now every day more inured to its hardships, began to assume great regularity. we made usually every day three halts, each of an hour and a half or two hours: the first before sunrise, when we made our bread for the whole day; the second at noon, to give man and beast the indulgence of a little repose from the scorching heat; and the third before sunset, to devour our scanty supper, consisting of the oft-mentioned bread and water, every drop of which we had to count. my friends, as well as the turkomans, had with them supplies of sheep-fat. this they ate with their bread, and offered to me, but i was { } careful not to partake of it, from the conviction that nothing but the greatest moderation could diminish the torments of thirst, and harden one to endure fatigue. the district we were now traversing consisted of a firm clay bottom, only producing here and there a few wretched plants, and forming for the most part barren ground, in which crevices, like veins, extended beyond the reach of the eye, and offered the most variegated picture. and yet how this eternal sadness of plain, from which every trace of life is banished, wearies the traveller; and what an agreeable change he finds when, arriving at the station, he is permitted to rest a few minutes from the wave-like movements of the camel! the next morning (may ) we discovered something like a dark blue cloud towards the north. it was the little balkan, which we were to reach the next day, of the height, beauty, and mineral wealth of which the turkomans gave me such long accounts. unfortunately, this very night, our generally so wakeful kervanbashi was overtaken with sleep, and the guide at the head of the line of camels brought us into a position of such jeopardy that it nearly cost us all our lives. for it is necessary to mention that at the foot of the little balkan there are many of those dangerous salt morasses, covered with a thick white crust, which are not distinguishable from the firm ground in their vicinity, as all is covered in the same proportion with layers of salt of the thickness of a finger. we had advanced in that direction until the camels, by their footing giving way under them, in spite of all encouragement, were brought to a standstill. we sprang down, and judge of my alarm when i felt, although standing upon the earth, as if i were { } in a moving boat. the consternation was general. the kervanbashi shouted out that every one should stop where he was, for it was idle to think of extricating ourselves until daybreak. the strong smell of soda was insupportable; and we were forced to wait three hours, till the first beams of the 'aurora liberatrix' should shine forth. the movement in the backward direction was attended with many difficulties; but we were all glad, for heaven had been gracious to us, as, had we only advanced a little farther, we might have reached a place where the earth had no consistence, and might have swallowed up a part or perhaps the whole karavan. such, at all events, was the expressed opinion of the turkomans. it was ten o'clock on the morning of the th of may when we reached the little balkan. it stretched from the south-west to the north-east. we discovered also the feebly-defined promontory belonging to the great balkan, running parallel with the former range. the little balkan, at the foot of which we encamped, forms an almost uninterrupted chain of mountains of equal elevation, for a distance of about twelve miles. it is not perhaps so barren and naked as those in persia, it yields grass in some places, and in the rest has a bluish-green colour. its height, measured by the eye, seems about , feet. our route this day and the next morning (may ) continued to pass along its side; about evening we reached the foot of the promontory of the great balkan. although i could only see a part of this close, i yet perceived the propriety of the appellation that distinguished it; for on an average, as far as the eye can reach, it has greater circumference and greater height. we found ourselves on a branch stretching { } in an easterly direction. the great balkan, properly so called, runs towards the shore of the caspian, having nearly a north-easterly direction. according to what i heard in khiva and amongst the turkomans, it must be rich in precious minerals; but the fact cannot be relied upon without the opinion of competent judges. taken altogether, the spot where we encamped this evening was not without its charms; for, as the setting sun projected its rays upon the lovely valleys of the little balkan, one could almost fancy oneself actually in a mountainous district. the view might even be characterised as beautiful; but then the idea of a fearful desolation, the immense abandonment, which covers the whole, as it were, with a veil of mourning! we turn fearfully to see whether the next moment our eye may not encounter some strange human face that will oblige us to grasp our weapon, for every human being encountered in the desert must be met with ready arms. an hour after sunset the start was determined upon. the kervanbashi pointed out to us that from this point the true desert began; that, although we had all the appearance of being experienced travellers, still he considered it not unprofitable to remark that, as far as possible, we should avoid speaking loudly, or uttering any cry by day or night; and that henceforth we should each bake his bread before sunset, as no one here ought to light a fire by night for fear of betraying his position to an enemy; and finally that we should, in our prayers, constantly implore amandjilik for security, and in the hour of danger we should not behave like women. { } some swords, a lance, and two guns were divided amongst us; and as i was regarded as one having most heart, i received fire-arms and a tolerable provision of powder and bail. i must openly avow that all these preparations did not seem to me calculated to inspire much confidence. [ancient bed of the oxus] after leaving the balkan my compass permitted me no longer to doubt, in spite of all attempts at concealment, our having taken the middle route. in körentaghi we had received intelligence that fifty karaktchi, of the tribe of tekke, were prowling about in the vicinity of the mountains; but the kervanbashi seemed only so far influenced by the information as to give a wide berth to the wells and station called djenak kuyusu, the water of which is besides very salt, so that no camel would touch it unless it had been without water for three days. it may have been about midnight--we had gone about two miles, and had reached a steep declivity--when the word was given that we should all dismount, for we were in the döden (as the nomads of the district name the ancient bed of the oxus), and the storms and the rains of the last winter had now entirely washed away all traces of the route which had been tolerably well defined the year before. we cut across the ancient channel of the river in a crooked line, in order to find a way out on to the opposite bank, the steeper one; it was not till break of day that we contrived, with great fatigue, to reach the high plateau. the nomads in their fables seek to connect the ancient bed of the oxus with the ruins of meshedi misriyan, and declare that the oxus formerly flowed near the walls of the edifice designed for the kaaba, and that, at a later period, incensed at the sins of the göklens, the river turned to the north. { } the more the balkan disappeared in the blue clouds in our rear, the greater and more awful became the majesty of the boundless desert. i had before been of opinion that the desert can only impress the mind with an idea of sublimity where both fancy and enthusiasm concur to give colouring and definiteness to the picture. but i was wrong. i have seen in the lowlands of my own beloved country a miniature picture of the desert; a sketch of it, too, on a larger scale, later, when i traversed, in persia, a part of the salt desert (deschti kuvir): but how different the feelings which i here experienced! no; it is not the imagination, as men falsely suppose, it is nature itself, that lights the torch of inspiration. i often tried to brighten the dark hues of the wilderness by picturing, in its immediate vicinity, cities and stirring life, but in vain; the interminable hills of sand, the dreadful stillness of death, the yellowish-red hue of the sun at rising and setting, yes, everything tells us that we are here in a great, perhaps in the greatest, desert on the surface of our globe! about mid-day (may ) we encamped near yeti siri, so named from the seven wells formerly existing here; from three of these a very salt bad-smelling water can still be obtained, but the other four are entirely dried up. as the kervanbashi expressed a hope of our finding this evening some rain-water--although what remained in my skin was more like mud, i would not exchange it for the bitter, nauseous fluid of these wells, out of which the camels were made to drink and some of my fellow-travellers made their provisions. i was astonished to see how the latter vied with their four-footed brethren in drinking; they laughed at my counsels to be abstemious, but had later occasion to rue their having slighted them. { } [vendetta] after a short halt we again started, passing by a hill higher than the rest of the sand-hills; upon the former we saw two empty kedjeve. i was told that the travellers who had been seated therein had perished in the desert, and that everything that had held men was respected amongst the turkomans, and its destruction regarded as a sin. singular superstition! men sold to slavery and lands laid waste regarded as acts of virtue, and a wooden basket held in honour because men have once been seated in it! the desert and its inhabitants are really singular and extraordinary. the reader will be still more surprised when i relate to him what we witnessed this same evening. when it became cooler i dismounted with the kervanbashi and some other turkomans, in search of some rain-water that we hoped to find. we were all armed, and each went in a different direction. i followed the kervanbashi; and we had advanced perhaps forty steps, when the latter observed some traces in the sand, and in great astonishment exclaimed, 'here there must be men.' we got our muskets ready, and, guided by the track, that became clearer and clearer, we at last reached the mouth of a cave. as from the prints in the sand we could infer that there was but a single man, we soon penetrated into the place, and i saw, with indescribable horror, a man--half a savage, with long hair and beard, clad in the skin of a gazelle--who, no less astonished, sprang up and with levelled lance rushed upon us. whilst i was contemplating the whole scene with the greatest impatience, the features of my guide showed the most imperturbable composure. when he distinguished the half-savage man, he dropped the end of his weapon, and murmuring in a low voice, 'amanbol' (peace be unto thee!) he { } quitted the horrible place. 'kanli dir, he is one who has blood upon his head,' exclaimed the kervanbashi, without my having ventured to question him. it was not till later that i learnt that this unhappy man, fleeing from a righteous _vendetta_, had been for years and years, summer and winter, wandering round the desert; man's face he must not, he dares not, behold! [footnote ] [footnote : the 'vendetta' is here even tolerated by religion! and i was eye-witness in etrek to an occurrence where a son, in the presence of his mother, avenged the death of his father, that had taken place eight years before, by shooting his step-father, who had married her, and who it appeared had been an accomplice. it was very characteristic that the people who were present at his interment condoled with the mother, and at the same time felicitated the son on the act of piety which he had accomplished.] [illustration] wild man in the desert. [sufferings from thirst.] troubled at the sight of this poor sinner, i sighed to think that, in the search after sweet water, we had discovered only traces of blood. my companions returned also without having been successful, and the thought made me shudder that this evening i should swallow the last dregs of the 'sweet slime.' oh! (thought i) water, dearest of all elements, why did i not earlier appreciate thy worth? man uses thy blessing like a spendthrift! yes, in my country man fears thee even; and now what would i give could i only obtain thirty or twenty drops of thy divine moisture! i ate only a few bits of bread, which i moistened in hot water, for i heard that in boiling it loses its bitter flavour. i was prepared to endure all until we could meet with a little rain-water--i was terrified by the condition of my companions all suffering from violent diarrhoea. some turkomans, especially the kervanbashi, were much suspected of having concealed some of the necessary liquid; but who dared to speak out his thought when every design upon his { } water-skin would be considered as a design upon the life of its owner, and when a man would have been regarded as out of his senses who should have asked another for a loan of water or present of water? this evening my appetite left me. i had not the slightest craving even for the smallest piece of bread: my sensations were those of extreme debility; the heat of the day was indescribable. my strength was gone, and i was lying there extended, when i perceived that all were pressing round the kervanbashi; they made a sign to me also to approach. the words 'water, water,' gave me fresh vigour. i sprang up; how overjoyed and how surprised i was when i saw the kervanbashi dealing out to each member of the karavan about two glasses of the precious liquid. the honest turkoman told us that for years it had been his practice in the desert to keep concealed a considerable quantity, and this he doled out when he knew that it would be most acceptable; that this would be a great sevab (act of piety), for a turkoman proverb says, 'that a drop of water to the man thirsty in the wilderness washes away a hundred years' sins.' it is as impossible to measure the degree of the benefit as to describe the enjoyment of such a draught! i felt myself fully satisfied, and imagined that i could again hold out three days! the water had been replenished, but not my bread. debility and want of appetite had rendered me somewhat careless, and i thought that i could employ for firing, not the wood which was at a little distance, but the camels' dung. i had not collected enough. i placed the dough in the hot ashes, and it was not till after half an hour that i discovered the insufficiency of the heat. i hastened { } to fetch wood, which i set on fire; it was now dark, and the kervanbashi called out to me, demanding, 'if i wanted to betray the karavan to the robbers.' so i was obliged to extinguish the fire, and to remove my bread, which was not only not leavened, but was only half baked. the next morning, may , our station was koymat ata. it had formerly a well, now dried up; no great loss, for the water, like that from all the other wells in the district, was undrinkable. unfortunately the heat, particularly in the forenoon, was really unendurable. the rays of the sun often warm the dry sand to the depth of a foot, and the ground becomes so hot, that even the wildest inhabitant of central asia, whose habits make him scorn all covering for the feet, is forced to bind a piece of leather under his soles, in the form of a sandal. what wonder if my refreshing draught of yesterday was forgotten, and i saw myself again a prey to the most fearful torments of thirst! at mid-day the kervanbashi informed us that we were now near the renowned place of pilgrimage and station named kahriman ata, and that to fulfil our pious duty we should dismount and walk on foot a quarter of an hour to the tomb of the saint. let the reader picture to himself my sufferings. weak and enfeebled from heat and thirst, i was forced to quit my seat, and join the procession of pilgrims, to march to a tomb situated on an elevation, at a distance of fifteen minutes' walk, where, with parched throat, i was expected to bellow forth telkin and passages from the koran, like one possessed. 'oh! (thought i) thou cruel saint, couldst thou not have got thyself interred elsewhere, to spare me the terrible martyrdom of this pilgrimage?' quite out of { } breath, i fell down before the tomb, which was thirty feet long, and ornamented with rams' horns, the signs of supremacy in central asia. the kervanbashi recounted to us that the saint who therein reposed was a giant as tall as his grave was long; [footnote ] that he had for countless years past defended the wells around from the attacks of evil spirits that sought to fill them up with stones. in the vicinity, several small graves are visible, the last resting-places of poor travellers, who in different parts of the desert have perished from the hands of robbers or from the fury of the elements. the news of wells under the protection of the saint overjoyed me. i hoped to find water that i could drink. i hastened so much that i really was the first to reach the place indicated. i soon perceived the well, which was like a brown puddle. i filled my hands; it was as if i had laid hold of ice. i raised the moisture to my lips. oh! what a martyrdom! not a drop could i swallow--so bitter, so salt, so stinking, was the ice-cold draught. my despair knew no bounds: it was the first time that i really felt anxiety for the result. [footnote : the orientals love to dignify their saints also with the attribute of bodily size. in persia i have remarked several giant graves; and even in constantinople, on the asiatic shore of the bosphorus, on the so-called mount of joshua, exists a long tomb which the turks venerate as that of the joshua of the bible, but the greeks as that of hercules.] { } chapter viii. thunder gazelles and wild asses arrival at the plateau kaftankir ancient bed of oxus friendly encampment approach of horsemen gazavat entry into khiva malicious charge by afghan interview with khan author required to give specimen of turkish penmanship robes of honour estimated by human heads horrible execution of prisoners peculiar execution of women kungrat author's last benediction of the khan. _on n'y verra jamais que l'heroisme et la servitude_.--montesq., _esprit des lois_, . xvii. c. . _chiefs of the uzbek race waving their heron crests with martial grace_. moore, _veiled prophet_. [thunder; gazelles and wild asses] thunder, heard for hours at a distance, not coming near to us till midnight, and then only bringing a few heavy drops of rain, was the herald that announced to us the end of our torments. towards the morning of the th may we had reached the extreme boundary of the sand through which we had toiled during three days; we were now certain to find this day rain-water wherever we should meet a sub-soil of clay. the kervanbashi had found a confirmation of this hope in the traces of numbers of gazelles and wild asses; he did not betray his thoughts but hastened on, and was in effect the first happy one to discover with his ferret eyes, and to point out to the karavan, a little lake of rain-water. 'su! su!' (water, water) shouted all { } for joy; and the mere sight, without wetting the lips, satisfied the craving and quieted our uneasiness. at noon we reached the spot. we afterwards found, in addition to our previous discovery, other pits filled with the sweetest water. i was one of the first to hurry thither with my skin and vessels--not to drink, but rather to collect the water before it was disturbed and converted into mire by the crowd. in half-an-hour everybody in a rapture was seated at his breakfast; it is quite impossible to convey an idea of the general delight. from this station, called deli ata, all the way to khiva our skins were constantly full, and henceforth our journey in the desert may be styled, if not an agreeable, at least free from uneasiness. in the evening we reached a spot where spring reigned in all its glory. we encamped in the midst of countless little lakes, surrounded as it were by garlands of meadows; it seemed a dream when i compared it with our encampment of the previous day. to complete our delight, we were here informed that all fear of a surprise, that we most dreaded, was at an end, but it was recommended that for this night we should still abstain from lighting fires. it must not be omitted that the sons of the desert ascribed the unexpected abundance of water solely to our pious hadji character. we filled our skins and started again in excellent spirits. [arrival at the plateau kaftankir] this evening we reached the trench for which we had so longed. on the further side of it is the plateau kaflankir (tiger field). it marks the commencement of the territory forming the khanat of khiva. { } [ancient bed of oxus] a wearisome task for man and beast was the ascent, nearly feet long, that led up to the plateau. i was told that its north side had an approach equally steep and high. the whole presents an extraordinary spectacle; the land on which we stand, as far as the eye can reach, seems to raise itself like an island out of the sea of sand. one cannot discern the limit either of the deep trench here or of that on the north-east; and if we can credit the assertion of the turkomans, both are _old channels of the oxus_, and kaflankir itself was formerly an island surrounded on all sides by these cuttings. certain, however, it is that the entire district is very distinguishable from the rest of the desert by its soil and vegetation, and the number of animals with which it abounds. we had before occasionally met with gazelles and wild asses, single and separate, but how astounded i was to find them here by hundreds and grazing in large herds. i think it was during the second day passed by us on the kaflankir, that we perceived, about noon, an immense cloud of dust rising toward the north. the kervanbashi and the turkomans all grasped their arms; the nearer it approached, the greater grew our anxiety. at last we could distinguish the whole moving mass; it seemed like a rank or column of squadrons on the point of charging. our guides lowered the points of their weapons. i strove to remain faithful to my oriental character and not to betray my curiosity, but my impatience knew no bounds; the cloud came nearer and nearer: at a distance of about fifty paces we heard a clatter as if a thousand practised horsemen had halted at the word of command. we saw a countless number of wild asses, animals in good condition and full of life, standing still, ranged in a well-formed line. they gazed intently at us a few moments, and then, probably discovering of how heterogeneous a character we were, they again betook themselves to their flight, hurrying with the swiftness of arrows towards the west. { } observed from the side towards khiva, the elevated ground of the kaflankir has the appearance of a regular wall; its margin is parallel with the horizon, and as level as if it were only yesterday that the water had retired. from this point a day's march brought us, on the morning of may , to a lake named shor göl (salt sea), which forms a rectangle, and is twelve english miles in circumference. it was resolved that we should here make a halt of six hours to complete the gusl [footnote ] prescribed to mahommedans, especially as this day was the festival of eidi kurban, one of the most famous holidays of islam. my companions loosed their knapsacks: each had his fresh shirt to put on; i alone was unprovided. hadji bilal wanted to lend me one, but i declined the proffered kindness, being firmly convinced that the greater my apparent poverty the less risk i should run. i could not refrain from laughing when for the first time i gazed upon myself in a glass, and contemplated my face covered with a thick crust of dirt and sand. true, i might have washed in many places in the desert, but i had purposely forborne in order that the coating might defend me from the burning sun; but the expedient had not altogether produced the desired effect, and many marks i shall retain all my life long to remind me of my sufferings. not i alone, but all { } my comrades were disfigured by the teyemmün, [footnote ] for believers are required to wash themselves with dust and sand, and so render themselves dirtier. after i had completed my toilette, i observed that my friends in comparison with me looked really like gentlemen. they compassionated me, and insisted upon lending me some articles of attire; thanking them i declined with the remark, that i should wait until the khan of khiva himself should dress me. [footnote : gusl is the ablution of the whole body, only in exceptional cases necessary. the ordinary washings before each of the five prayers of the day are called abdest in turkish, vudhu in arabic, and teharet in central asia.] [footnote : a substitute abdest prescribed by the prophet for use in the dry desert when no water can be obtained.] we passed now for four hours through a little thicket, called here yilghin, where we met an Özbeg coming from khiva, who informed us as to the actual position of affairs there. however agreeable a surprise the sight of this horseman to us all, it was as nothing compared with the feeling experienced in beholding in the afternoon a few abandoned mud houses; for since quitting karatepe, on the frontiers of persia, i had not seen so much as a wall or other indication of a house. these had been inhabited a few years before, and were reckoned a portion of medemin, a village which stretches off in an easterly direction. this district had never been put under cultivation until mehemmed emin took it in hand fifteen years ago; on which account it bears its present designation, an abbreviation of his name. since the last war this village had lain waste and desolate, as we shall observe to be the case with many others in turkestan. this morning ( th may) it seemed to me that instead of following the direction to the north-east, in which khiva lies, we had changed our course directly to the north. i made enquiries and found that we { } were taking a circuitous way for the sake of security. the Özbeg, met yesterday, had warned us to be on our guard, for that the tchaudors were in open rebellion against the khan, and that their alamans were often making forays on these frontiers. [friendly encampment] this evening we continued our onward march, not without caution, and who happier than i when we next morning saw on our right hand and on our left groups of tents, and everywhere as we passed we were greeted with the most friendly cry of 'aman geldingiz' (welcome)! our comrade ilias, having friends amongst those encamped here, proceeded at once to fetch some warm bread and other kurban presents (holiday dainties). he came back richly laden, and shared amongst us flesh, bread, and kimis (a sharp acid drink made with mare's milk). although we only passed here one brief hour of repose, many god-fearing nomads approached us to realise by the pressure of our hands their holy aspirations. in return for four or five formulae i received a quantity of bread and several pieces of flesh of camel, horse, and sheep. [approach of horsemen] we crossed many yap (artificial trenches for irrigation), and arrived by midday at a deserted citadel named khanabad, whose high square walls had been visible at a distance of three miles. we passed there the afternoon and evening. the sun was glowing hot. how refreshing was it to slumber under the shade of the wall, although the bare earth was my bed, and a stone my pillow! we left khanabad, which is distant twenty-five miles from khiva, before daybreak, and were surprised during the whole day's march that we did not perceive a single tent. we even found ourselves in the evening below large hills of sand, and i fancied myself once more transported to the desert. { } we were occupied taking our tea, when the camels sent to pasture began to run wildly about; we suspected some one was chasing them, when five horsemen came in sight, who proceeded immediately at a gallop towards our encampment. to exchange the tea-things for muskets, and to present a line of fire, was the work of an instant; the horsemen in the meantime approached slowly, and we discerned by the pace of the horses that fortunately we had mistaken, and that instead of having to deal with enemies we should have a friendly escort to accompany us as far as khiva. the next morning ( th may) we reached an Özbeg village, belonging to akyap. and here the desert between gömüshtepe and khiva terminated entirely. the inhabitants of this village were the first ozbegs that i had an opportunity of seeing; we found them excellent people. in accordance with the practice of the country we visited their houses and reaped a rich harvest with our fatihas. i now again saw, after a long interval, some articles coming from the beloved west, and my heart leapt within me for joy. we might still have reached this day the habitation of ilias, for here begins a village [footnote ] peopled by khivan yomuts, and called akyap, but our friend the cattle-dealer was a little indolent, or did not wish us to arrive unexpected guests; we consequently passed the night two leagues from his house at his uncle's, allahnazr bay, [footnote ] who was a man in opulent circumstances, and gave { } us a most hospitable and distinguished reception. this afforded an opportunity for ilias to inform his wife of our arrival. we made our formal entry next morning ( st june), a countless host of members of his family and relatives having first hastened to meet and welcome us. he offered me a neat tent for my habitation, but i preferred his garden, for there were trees, and for shade my soul pined! long was it since i had seen any! [footnote : village is here called aul or oram; it does not correspond with our idea of a number of continuous houses, but a district where the people belonging to one aul encamp and dwell in a scattered manner about their meadows and lands.] [footnote : bay or bi; in turkey, bey means a personage of distinction.] during my two days' sojourn amongst the half-civilised turkomans--by which i mean those who were only half settled, half fixed in their abodes--what most surprised me was the aversion these nomads have to everything in the form either of house or government. although they have dwelt now several centuries side by side with the ozbegs, they detest the manners and customs of the latter, avoid their company, and, although of kindred origin and tongue, an Özbeg is as much a stranger in their eyes as a hottentot is in ours. [gazavat; entry into khiva] after we had taken a little repose, the karavan proceeded on its way to the capital. we traversed gazavat, where the weekly market was being held, and had a first glimpse at the khivan mode of living. we passed the night in a meadow, before sheikhlar kalesi. here i encountered a species of gnat, larger and more impudent than any i ever met with. we were plagued to death, both man and beast, the whole night long, and i was not therefore in the best of spirits when i was forced again to mount my camel in the morning without having for so many hours closed an eye. happily, we soon forgot what we had suffered from sleeplessness in the impression derived from the magnificent productions of spring. the vegetation { } became more and more luxuriant and abundant the nearer we approached khiva. i, at first, thought that the only reason why khiva seemed so very beautiful was the contrast it presented with the desert, of which the terrible form still floated before my eyes. but, ah! the environs of khiva with its small havlis, [footnote ] in the form of strongholds shaded by lofty poplars, with its fine meadows and rich fields, seem to me still, after i have visited the most charming countries of europe, as beautiful as ever. had the eastern poets tuned their lyres here, they would have found a more worthy theme than in the horrid wastes of persia! [footnote : havli means literally radius, but here taken in the sense of our word court. it contains the tents, the stalls, store-room for produce, and such like things which pertain to the homestead of an Özbeg countryman.] even its capital, khiva, as it rises in the midst of these gardens, with its domes and minarets, makes a tolerably favourable impression when seen at a distance. a prominent feature is the projection of a tongue of barren earth belonging to the sandy desert of merv: it stretches to within a league of the city, as if to mark completely here, too, the sharply-defined contrast between life and death. this tongue of earth is known under the name of töyesitchti, and we were already before the gate of the city, and yet those sand-hills were still in sight. the reader will easily imagine in what a state my spirits were when i found myself before the walls of khiva, if he reflects on the risks to which any suspicion of my disguise would expose me, as soon as a first introduction should discover my european features. i was well aware that the khan of khiva, whose cruelty was displeasing to the tartars { } themselves, would, in case he felt any distrust, become far severer to me than the other turkomans. i had heard that the khan was in the habit of at once making slaves of all strangers of doubtful character; that he had, not long before, so treated a hindustani, who claimed to be of princely origin, and who was now, like the other slaves, employed in dragging along the artillery carriages. my nerves were all strung to the highest point, but i was not intimidated. i had, from constant risk, become inured to it. death, the least serious result of my enterprise, had now been floating continually before my eyes for three months, and instead of trembling i considered how, on any pressing emergency, i might by some expedient get the better of the watchfulness of the superstitious tyrant. on the journey i had acquired exact information respecting all the distinguished khivites who had been in constantinople. they named to me oftenest a certain shükrullah bay, who had been in residence ten years at the court of the sultan. of his person i had a half recollection, for i had seen him several times at the house of ali pasha, the present minister of foreign affairs. this shükrullah bay, thought i, only knows stamboul and its language, its manners and its great personages: whether he will or not, i must compel him to admit a previous knowledge of me, and as i can deceive, personating the stambouli, the stambouli himself, the ex-ambassador of the khan of khiva, will never be able to disavow me, and must serve my purpose. [malicious charge by afghan] at the very entrance of the gate we were met by several pious khivites, who handed up to us bread and dried fruits as we sat upon our camels. for years so numerous a troop of hadjis had not arrived { } in khiva. all stared at us in astonishment, and the exclamations 'aman eszen geldin ghiz' (welcome)! 'ha shah bazim! ha arszlanim!' (ah, my falcon, my lion!) resounded on all sides in our ears. on entering the bazaar, hadji bilal intoned a telkin. my voice was heard above them all, and i felt real emotion when the people impressed their kisses upon my hands and feet--yes, upon the very rags which hung from me. in accordance with the custom of the country we dismounted at the karavanserai. this served also as a custom-house, where the new arrivals of men and merchandise are subjected to severe examination. the testimony of the chiefs of the karavans have, as is natural, the greatest weight in the balance. the functions of chief of the customs are filled in khiva by the principal mehrem (a sort of chamberlain and confidant of the khan). scarcely had this official addressed the ordinary questions to our kervanbashi, when the afghan pressed forward and called out aloud, 'we have brought to khiva three interesting quadrupeds and a no less interesting biped.' the first part of this pleasantry was, of course, applied to the buffaloes, animals not before seen in khiva; but as the second part was pointed at me, it was no wonder that many eyes were immediately turned upon me, and amidst the whispering it was not difficult to distinguish the words 'djansiz' [footnote ] (spy), 'frenghi,' and 'urus' (russian). [footnote : from the arabic word djasus (spy).] i made an effort to prevent the blood rising to my cheeks, and was upon the point of withdrawing when the mehrem ordered me to remain. he applied himself to my case, using exceedingly uncivil expressions. i was about to reply, when hadji salih, whose exterior { } inspired respect, came in, and, entirely ignorant of what had passed, represented me in the most flattering colours to my inquisitor, who, surprised, told me, smiling as he did so, to take a seat by his side. hadji salih made a sign to me to accept the invitation, but, assuming the air of one highly offended, and throwing an angry look upon the mehrem, i retired. my first step was to go to shükrullah bay, who, without filling any functions, occupied a cell at that time in the medresse of mehemmed emin-khan, the finest edifice in khiva. i announced myself to him as an efendi arrived from stamboul, with the observation that i had made his acquaintance there, and had wished, in passing, to wait upon him. the arrival of an efendi in khiva, an occurrence so unprecedented, occasioned the old man some surprise. he came forward himself to meet me, and his wonder increased when he saw a mendicant, terribly disfigured and in rags, standing before him: not that this prevented him from admitting me. i had only interchanged a few words with him, in the dialect of stamboul, when, with ever-increasing eagerness, he put question upon question concerning his numerous friends in the turkish capital, and the recent doings and position of the ottoman empire since the accession of the present sultan. as i before said, i was fully confident in the part i was playing. on his side, shükrullah bay could not contain himself for joy when i gave him news of his acquaintances there in detail. still he felt not the less astonishment. 'in god's name, efendi, what induced you to come to this fearful country, and to come to us too from that paradise on earth, from stamboul?' sighing, i exclaimed, 'ah, pir!' (spiritual chief), laid one hand on my { } eyes, a sign of obedience, and the excellent old man, a musselman of tolerably good education, could not misapprehend my meaning, i.e. that i belonged to some order of dervishes, and had been sent by my pir (chief of my order) upon a journey, which is a duty that every murid (disciple of an order of dervishes) must fulfil at the hazard of his life. my explanation rejoiced him; he but asked the name of the order. on my mentioning the nakishbendi, he at once understood that bokhara was the aim of my journey. he wished immediately to obtain for me quarters in the medresse before named, but i mentioned at the same time my situation with respect to my companions. i then almost immediately withdrew, with the promise soon to repeat my visit. on returning to the karavanserai, i was told that my fellow-travellers had already found lodgings in a tekkie, a sort of convent where travelling dervishes put up, called töshebaz. [footnote ] i proceeded thither, and found that they had also reserved and got ready a cell for me. scarcely was i again in their midst when they questioned me as to the cause of my delaying to rejoin them; all expressed their regret at my not having been present when the wretched afghan, who had wished so to compromise me, had been obliged to beat a retreat, loaded with curses and reproaches, not only by them, but by the khivites. 'very good,' thought i, 'the popular suspicion removed, it will be easy enough to deal with the khan, for he will be immediately informed of my arrival by shükrullah bay; and as the rulers of khiva have ever evinced the { } greatest respect for the sultan, the present sovereign will certainly venture a step towards an efendi; nay, it is not impossible that the first man from constantinople who has come to kharezm (the political name of khiva) may even be treated with particular distinction. [footnote : so called from tört shahbaz, which means the four falcons or heroes, as the four kings are designated whose tomb is here, and who gave rise to the pious establishment.] my anticipations did not deceive me. the next day there came a yasaul (officer of the court), bringing to me a small present from the khan, with the order that i should in the evening go to the ark (palace), 'as the hazret' (a title of sovereignty in central asia, corresponding with our expression, majesty) 'attached great importance to receiving the blessing from a dervish born in the holy land.' i promised compliance, betook myself an hour previously to shükrullah bay; and as he was desirous of being himself present at the interview, he accompanied me to the palace of the king, which was in his immediate vicinity, giving me, on the way, counsel as to the ceremonies to be observed in my interview. he also told me of the bad footing in which he himself stood with the mehter (a sort of minister of the home department), who feared him as a rival, and neglected nothing to do him an injury, and who, owing to my being introduced by him, would not perhaps give me the most friendly reception. as the kushbeghi and the elder brother of the king were commanding in the field against the tchaudors, the mehter was provisionally the first official minister of the khan. both usage and necessity forced me to begin by paying him my respects, for his office was in a hall in a forecourt at the very gate that leads directly to the khan's apartments. { } [interview with khan] as at this hour there was almost every day an arz (public audience), the principal entrance, as well as all the other chambers of the royal residence traversed by us, were crowded with petitioners of every class, sex, and age. they were attired in their ordinary dresses, and many women had even children in their arms, waiting to obtain a hearing; for no one is required to inscribe his name, and he who has managed to force his way first is first admitted. the crowd, however, gave way for us on all sides; and it was a source of great satisfaction to hear the women, whilst pointing to me, saying to one another, 'behold the dervish from constantinople, who is to give his blessing to our khan. may god give ear to his words!' i found the mehter, as i had been told, in a hall surrounded by his officers, who accompanied every word of their lord with approving smiles. it was easy to distinguish, by his brown complexion and his long thick beard falling down to his breast, that he was sart (of persian origin). his clumsy dress and his great fur cap especially suited his rough features admirably. as he saw me approach he spoke a few words laughingly to those around him. i went straight up, saluted him with a serious expression of countenance, and assumed at once the place of honour in the company, belonging of right to the dervishes. i uttered the usual prayers, and after all had added the amen with the ordinary stroking of the beard, the customary civilities were interchanged with the mehter. the minister was desirous of showing his wit, and remarked that even dervishes in constantinople were well educated, and spoke arabic (although i had only made use of the stambouli dialect). he proceeded to say that the hazret (his majesty)--and here every { } one rose from his seat--desired to see me, and that 'he would be glad to hear that i had brought with me a few lines from the sultan or his ambassador in teheran.' whereupon i observed that my journey had no secular object, that i wanted nothing from any one; but that for my personal security i had with me a firman, bearing at the top the tugra (seal of the sultan). i then handed to him my printed pass. on receiving this sign of paramount sovereignty, he kissed it reverently, rubbed it on his forehead, rose to place it in the hands of the khan, and, returning almost immediately, told me to step into the hall of audience. i was preceded by shükrullah, and was constrained to wait a few moments until the necessary preparations had been made; for although i was announced as a dervish, my introducer had not neglected to draw attention to the fact that i was acquainted with all the pashas of distinction in constantinople, and that it was desirable to leave upon me as imposing an impression as possible. after the lapse of a few moments my arms were held with every demonstration of respect by two yasaul. the curtain was rolled up, and i saw before me seid mehemmed khan, padishahi kharezm, or, as he would be styled in ordinary prose, the khan of khiva, on a sort of elevation, or dais, with his left arm supported upon a round silk velvet pillow, and his right holding a short golden sceptre. according to the ceremonial prescribed, i raised my hands, being imitated in the act by the khan and the others present, recited a short sura from the koran; then two allahumu sella, and a usual prayer beginning with the words 'allahumu rabbena,' and concluding with a loud amen and stroking of the beard. whilst the khan was still stroking his beard, each of { } the rest exclaimed, 'kabul bolgay!' (may thy prayer be heard). i approached the sovereign, who extended his hands to me, and after we had duly executed our musafeha, [footnote ] i retired a few paces and the ceremonial was at an end. the khan now began to question me respecting the object of my journey, and the impression made upon me by the desert, the turkomans, and khiva. i replied that i had suffered much, but that my sufferings were now richly rewarded by the sight of the hazrets djemal (beauty of his majesty). 'i thank allah,' i said, 'that i have been allowed to partake this high happiness, and discern in this special favour of kismet (fate) a good prognostic for my journey to come.' although i laboured to make use of the Özbeg dialect instead of that of stamboul, which was not understood here, the king was, nevertheless, obliged to have much translated for him. he asked me how long i proposed to stay, and if i was provided with the necessary journey expenses. i replied that i wished first to visit the sunnite saints who repose in the soil of the khanat, and that i should then prepare for my journey further on. with respect to my means, i said, 'we dervishes do not trouble ourselves with such trifles. the holy nefes (breath) which my pir (chief of my order) had imparted to me for my journey can support me four or five days without any nourishment,' and that i had no other wish than that god would permit his majesty to live a hundred and twenty years! [footnote : musafeha is the greeting prescribed by the koran, accompanied by the reciprocal extension of the open hands.] { } my words seemed to have given satisfaction, for his royal highness was pleased to order that i should be presented with twenty ducats and a stout ass. i declined the ducats with the remark that for a dervish it was a sin to keep money; thanked him, however, warmly for the second part of his most gracious favour, but begged permission to draw his attention to the holy commandment which prescribed a white ass for pilgrimages, and entreated him therefore to vouchsafe me such a one. i was on the point of withdrawing when the khan desired that, at least during my short stay in the capital, i should be his guest, and consent to take for my daily board two tenghe (about one franc and fifty centimes) from his haznadar. i thanked him heartily, concluded by giving my blessing, and withdrew. i hurried home through the waving crowds in the forecourt and the bazaar, whilst all encountered me with the respectful 'selam aleïkum.' when i found myself again alone within the four walls of my cell i drew a long breath, not a little pleased to find that the khan, who in appearance was so fearfully dissolute, and who presents in every feature of his countenance the real picture of an enervated, imbecile, and savage tyrant, had behaved to me in a manner so unexceptionable; and that, so long as my time permitted, i could now traverse the khanat in all directions unmolested. during the whole evening i had floating before me the picture of the khan with his deep-set eyes, with his chin thinly covered with hair, his white lips, and trembling voice. 'what a happy fatality,' i repeated to myself, 'that gloomy superstition often imposes limits to the might and blood-thirstiness of such tyrants!' as i proposed making extensive excursions into the interior, i was desirous as far as possible to shorten my stay in the capital. what was most worth seeing { } might quickly be despatched, had not repeated invitations of the khan, of the officials, and of the most distinguished of the mercantile community, robbed me of so much time. after it was known that i shared the favour of royalty, everybody wanted to have me as guest, and with me all the other hadjis. what a torture this to me, to have daily to accept six, seven, or eight invitations, and to comply with the usage by taking something in every house. my hair stands on end at the recollection how often i was forced to seat myself, between three and four o'clock in the morning, before sunrise, opposite a colossal dish of rice swimming in the fat of the sheep tail, which i was to assail as if my stomach was empty. how, upon such occasions, i again longed for the dry unleavened bread of the desert, and how willingly i would have exchanged this deadly luxury for wholesome poverty! in central asia it is the practice, even on the occasion of an ordinary visit, to set before you the desturkhan (a napkin of coarse linen and of a variety of colours, for the most part dirty). in this enough bread is generally placed for two persons, and the guest is to eat some pieces of this. 'to be able to eat no more,' is an expression regarded by the central asiatic as incredible, or, at least, as indicating low breeding. my pilgrim brethren always gave brilliant proofs of their _bon ton_. my only wonder is that they could support the heavy pilow, for upon one occasion i reckoned that each of them had devoured one pound of fat from the tail of the sheep, two pounds of rice, without taking any account of bread, carrots, turnips, and radishes; and all this washed down, without any exaggeration, by from fifteen to twenty large soup plates full of green tea. in such heroic feats i { } was naturally a coward; and it was the astonishment of every one that i, so well versed in books, should have acquired only a half acquaintance with the requisites of polite breeding! another source of torment to me not less considerable was that of the _beaux-esprits_ of the ulemas of the city of khiva. these gentlemen, who give the preference to turkey and constantinople beyond all other places, were desirous of receiving from me, the standard of turkish islamite learning, an explanation of many mesele (religious questions). oh! how warm those thick-headed ozbegs made me, with their colossal turbans, when they opened a conversation concerning the prescriptions as to the mode of washing hands, feet, face, and occiput; and how a man should, in obedience to his holy religion, sit, walk, lie, and sleep, etc. the sultan (a recognised successor of mohammed) and his grandees are accounted in khiva the practical examples of all these important laws. his majesty the emperor of turkey is here designated as a musselman, whose turban is at least ells in length, whose beard extends below his breast, and his robe to his toes. a man might place his life in jeopardy who should assert the fact that the sultan has head and beard shaved _à la_ fiesko, and clothes made for him at paris by dusetoye. i was often really sorry to be unable to give to these people, often persons very amiable, the satisfactory explanation they seemed to require; and how, indeed, could i have ventured upon such explanation, standing, as we do, in such direct contrast and opposition! the töshebaz or convent that gave us shelter, from the great reservoir of water and mosque which it encloses, was looked upon in the light of a public place: { } the court consequently swarmed always with visitors of both sexes. the Özbeg in his high round fur hat, great thick boots of leather, walks about merely in a long shirt, in summer a favourite undress. this i myself adopted afterwards, as i found it was not regarded as indecent, so long as the shirt retained its whiteness, even to appear with it in the bazaar. the women wear lofty globular turbans, consisting of from fifteen to twenty russian kerchiefs. they are forced, striding along, in spite of all the overpowering heat, muffled in large gowns, and with their coarse boots, to drag to their houses heavy pitchers full of water. ah, i see them now! many a time one remains standing at my door, entreating for a little khaki shifa (health dust [footnote ]), or a nefes (holy breath) for the real or feigned ill of which she complains. i have it not in my heart to refuse these poor creatures, many of whom bear a striking resemblance to the daughters of germany. she cowers before my door: i touch, moving my lips at the same time as if in prayer, the suffering part of the body; and after having thrice breathed hard upon her, a deep sigh is uttered, and my part is done. many in these cases persist that they perceive an instantaneous alleviation of their malady! [footnote : this the pilgrims bring back with them from a house in medina, affirmed to have been the prophet's. it is used by the believers of the true faith as a medicine for many different maladies.] what in europe idlers seek in coffee-houses they find in khiva in the courts of the mosques. these have in most cases a reservoir of water, and are shaded by the finest palms and elm-trees. although at the beginning of june the heat was here unusually oppressive, { } i was nevertheless forced to keep my cell, although it was without windows, for immediately i issued forth and betook myself to the inviting shade, i was surrounded by a crowd, and plagued to death with the most stupid enquiries. one wanted religious instruction; another asked if the world offered elsewhere places as beautiful as khiva; a third wished, once for all, to receive authentic information whether the great sultan really had his each day's dinner and supper forwarded to him from mecca, and whether they passed to his palace from the kaaba in one minute. ah! if the good ozbegs only knew how much chateau lafitte and margot garnished the sovereign's table in the reign of abdul medjid! amongst the acquaintance made by me here, under the elm trees, an interesting one resulted from my meeting with hadji ismael, represented to me as a stambouli; and, indeed, so like one in speech, demeanour, and dress, that i was obliged to accept and tenderly embrace him as my countryman! hadji ismael had, it seems, passed twenty-five years in the turkish capital, was intimate in many good houses, and asserted that he had seen me in such and such a house, and at such and such a time. he even insisted that it was no effort for him to remember my father, who was a mollah, he said, in topkhane. [footnote ] far from charging him with impudent mendacity, i assured him, on the contrary, that he had himself left a good name behind him in stamboul, and that every one awaited his return with impatience. according to his account, hadji ismael had carried on, on the shore of the bosphorus, the business of tutor, proprietor of baths, leather-cutter, caligraphist, chemist, and, { } consequently, also of conjuror. in his native city, they had a high opinion of him, particularly with reference to his last-named capacity; he had in his house several little apparatuses for distillation, and as he was in the habit of pressing out the oil from leaves, fruits, and other similar substances, it is easy to conceive that his countrymen applied to him for a variety of elixirs. the maadjun (decoctions) used in case of 'impuissance,' and favourite remedies in turkey and persia, are here in the highest consideration. hadji ismael had long placed his art at the disposal of the khan, but his majesty had neglected the requisite diet, for the simple reason that he was too weak to resist the darts of the boy god. debility and gout naturally ensued. the khan grew angry with the court physician, gave him his dismissal, and named in his place a matron renowned for her marvellous success with her patients. [footnote : one of the quarters of constantinople. ] the good woman had the happy idea to prescribe to the sick khan five hundred doses of that medicine said to have worked such beneficial effect upon the renowned poet-monarch of ancient history. the making up of such a prescription would not be found so easy in europe, but the provisions of the khivan constitution afforded facilities, and the poor patient, after having taken from fifty to sixty of these pills, began to observe that they produced a directly contrary effect. the evil counsel cost the counsellor her head. this had occurred not long before our arrival. the last medical prescription had been the buffalo milk already mentioned. during my stay in khiva, the khan wanted to reinstate hadji ismael in his functions of conjuror, doctor, and powder-maker; the latter, however, declined to resume them, an audacity { } which he would have certainly paid for with his life, had the superstitious monarch been courageous enough to go near his wonder-working subject. in khiva, in the meantime, my hadji business throve, both with me and my colleagues. in this place alone i collected fifteen ducats. the khivan Özbeg, although but rough-hewn, is the finest character of central asia, and i may style my sojourn amongst his race here as most agreeable, were it not that the rivalry between the mehter and shükrullah made me incur some danger, the former being always disposed, from hostility to my introducer, to do me harm; and as he could no longer question the genuineness of my turkish character, he began to insinuate to the khan that i was only a sham dervish, probably sent upon some secret mission by the sultan to bokhara. [author required to give specimen of turkish penmanship.] informed of the progress of this intrigue, i was not at all astonished, soon after my first audience with the khan, to receive a second invitation. the weather was intensely hot. i did not like to be disturbed in my hour of repose, but what i liked least of all was to be obliged to cross the square of the castle, whither the prisoners taken in the campaign against the tchaudors had been sent, and where they were to be executed. the khan, who was numerously attended, told me that he had heard i was also versed in worldly sciences, and possessed a beautiful florid insha (style); he added that i must write him a few lines in stambouli fashion, which he would like much to see. knowing that this had been suggested by the mehter, who enjoyed himself the reputation of being a caligraphist, and had elicited the fact of my accomplishment from the hadjis, i took the proffered writing materials and wrote the following lines:-- { } _literally translated._ most majestic, mighty, dread king and sovereign! immersed in thy royal favour, the poorest and humblest of thy servants keeping before his eyes (the arabian proverb) [footnote ] that 'all beautiful penmen are fools,' has until this day very little devoted himself to the study of caligraphy, and only because he calls to mind (a persian proverb), that 'every failing which pleases the king is a virtue,' does he venture to hand to him most submissively these lines. [footnote : doctores male pingunt.] the extravagant sublimity of the titles, which are, however, still in use in constantinople, delighted the khan. the mehter was too stupid to understand my sarcasm. i was ordered to take a seat, and after having been offered tea and bread, the khan invited me to converse with him. the subject to-day was exclusively political. to remain true to my dervish character, i forced them to press every word out of me. the mehter watched each expression, wishing to see the confirmation of his suspicions. all his trouble was fruitless. the khan, after graciously dismissing me, ordered me to take the money for my daily support from the treasurer. [horrible execution of prisoners] on my saying that i did not know where he dwelt, they then gave me a yasaul for escort, who had also other commissions to execute; and terrible indeed is the recollection of the scenes to which i was witness in his presence. in the last court i found about three hundred tchaudors, prisoners of war, covered with rags; they were so tormented by the dread of their approaching fate, and by the hunger which they had endured several days, that they looked as if they { } had just risen from their graves. they were separated into two divisions, namely, such as had not yet reached their fortieth year, and were to be sold as slaves, or to be made use of as presents, and such as from their rank or age were regarded as aksakals (grey beards) or leaders, and who were to suffer the punishment imposed by the khan. the former, chained together by their iron collars in numbers of ten to fifteen, were led away; the latter submissively awaited the punishment awarded. they looked like lambs in the hands of their executioners. whilst several were led to the gallows or the block, i saw how, at a sign from the executioner, eight aged men placed themselves down on their backs upon the earth. they were then bound hand and foot, and the executioner gouged out their eyes in turn, kneeling to do so on the breast of each poor wretch; and after every operation he wiped his knife, dripping with blood, upon the white beard of the hoary unfortunate. ah! cruel spectacle! as each fearful act was completed, the victim liberated from his bonds, groping around with his hands, sought to gain his feet! some fell against each other, head against head; others sank powerless to the earth again, uttering low groans, the memory of which will make me shudder as long as i live. however dreadful these details may seem to the reader, they must still be told that this cruelty was only a retaliation for a no less barbarous act committed by the tchaudors last winter upon an Özbeg karavan. it was a rich one, composed of two thousand camels, which, on its way from orenburg to khiva, was surprised and entirely plundered. the turkomans, { } greedy of booty, although they had taken possession of stores of russian merchandise, despoiled the travellers (for the most part khivan ozbegs) of their victuals and clothes, so that they died in the middle of the desert, some of hunger and others of cold; only eight out of sixty contrived to save their lives. [peculiar execution of women] a treatment of prisoners such as i have described is indeed horrible; but it is not to be regarded as an exceptional case. in khiva, as well as in the whole of central asia, wanton cruelty is unknown; the whole proceeding is regarded as perfectly natural, and usage, law, and religion all accord in sanctioning it. the present khan of khiva wanted to signalise himself as a protector of religion, and believed he should succeed by punishing with the greatest severity all offences against it. to have cast a look upon a thickly-veiled lady, sufficed for the offender to be executed by the redjm according as religion directs. the man is hung, and the woman is buried up to the breast in the earth near the gallows, and there stoned to death. as in khiva there are no stones, they use kesek (hard balls of earth). at the third discharge, the poor victim is completely covered with dust, and the body, dripping with blood, is horribly disfigured, and the death which ensues alone puts an end to her torture. the khan has affixed the punishment of death, not only to adultery, but to other offences against religion, so that in the first years of his reign, the ulemas were even obliged to cool his religious zeal; still no day passes, but some one is led away from an audience with the khan, hearing first the fatal words pronounced, which are his doom, 'alib barin' (away with him). { } [robes of honour estimated by human heads] i had almost forgotten to mention that the yasaul led me to the treasurer to receive the sum for my daily board. my claim was soon settled; but this personage was engaged in so singular an occupation that i must not omit to particularise it. he was assorting the khilat (robes of honour) which were to be sent to the camp, to reward those who had distinguished themselves. they consisted of about four kinds of silken coats with staring colours, and large flowers worked in them in gold. i heard them styled four-headed, twelve-headed, twenty-headed, and forty-headed coats. as i could see upon them no heads at all in painting or embroidery, i demanded the reason of the appellation, and i was told that the most simple coats were a reward for having cut off four heads of enemies, and the most beautiful a recompense for forty heads, and that they were now being forwarded to the camp. some one proceeded to tell me 'that if this was not an usage in roum, i ought to go next morning to the principal square, where i should be a witness of this distribution.' accordingly, the next morning i did really see about a hundred horsemen arrive from the camp covered with dust. each of them brought at least one prisoner with him, and amongst the number, children and women, also bound either to the tail of the horse or to the pommel of the saddle; besides all which, he had buckled behind him a large sack containing the heads of his enemies, the evidence of his heroic exploits. on coming up he handed over the prisoners as presents to the khan, or some other great personage, then loosened his sack, seized it by the two lower corners, as if he were about to empty potatoes, and there rolled the bearded or beardless heads before the accountant, who kicked them together with his { } feet until a large heap was composed, consisting of several hundreds. each hero had a receipt given to him for the number of heads delivered, and a few days later came the day of payment. [illustration] receiving payment for human heads--khiva. in spite of these barbarous usages, in spite of these startling scenes, it was in khiva and its dependent provinces that i passed, in my incognito as a dervish, the most agreeable days of my whole journey. if the hadjis were met by the inhabitants in a friendly manner, to me they were exceedingly kind. i had only to appear in public when passers by, without any begging on my part, absolutely pelted me with many articles of attire and other presents. i took care never to accept considerable sums. i shared these articles of attire amongst my less fortunate brethren, always yielding to them what was best and handsomest, and reserving for myself, as became a dervish, what was poorest and least pretending. notwithstanding this, a great change had taken place in my position, and, to avow it openly, i saw with joy that i was now well furnished with a strong ass, with money, clothing, and provisions, and that i was perfectly equipped for my journey. [kungrat] what happened to me in my excursions, which extended as far as kungrat, would afford ample matter to swell my book with two additional chapters. in four days and a half going down the oxus [footnote ] i reached kungrat, and the return journey by land took us twice the time. the two banks, with the exception of that part of the left one where, opposite to kanli, rises the mountain oveis karayne, is flat, and on an average well cultivated and peopled. between kanli { } and kungrat there is a desert, lasting three days' journey; the opposite bank, on the contrary, particularly where the karakalpak dwell, is covered by primaeval forests. on my return to khiva i found my friends tired of waiting; they urged me to quit khiva the very next day, as the heat, which was increasing in intensity, inspired just apprehensions for our journey to bokhara. i went to take my leave of shükrullah bay, to whom during my stay in khiva i had been under so much obligation. i was really deeply moved to see how the excellent old man tried to dissuade me from my purpose, sketching to me the most horrible picture of bokhara sherif (noble bokhara). he pictured to me the policy of the emir as suspicious and treacherous--a policy not only hostile to englishmen but to all foreigners,--and then he told me as a great secret, that a few years before even an osmanli, sent by the late reshid pasha to bokhara as a military instructor, had been treacherously murdered by order of the emir, when he was desirous, after a stay of two years, to return to stamboul. [footnote : the upward navigation of the oxus from kungrat to khiva takes days.] this warm dissuasion of shükrullah bay, who at first had the most confident belief in my dervish character, surprised me extremely. i began to think, 'this man, if he is not sure of my identity, still having seen more of me, has penetrated my incognito, and now perhaps has some widely different idea and suspicion.' the excellent old man had in his younger days been sent in to herat to major todd, and had also been several times to st. petersburg. he had often, as he told me, frequented in constantinople the society of the frenghi, a source of great pleasure to him. what if, entertaining some idea of our real way of thinking--of our efforts in a scientific direction-- { } he had from some peculiar feeling of benevolence taken me under his protection? when i bade him farewell i saw a tear in his eye--a tear, who knows by what feeling dictated? [author's last benediction of the khan.] to the khan also i gave a final blessing. he enjoined me to return by khiva, for he wanted to send an envoy with me to constantinople, to receive at the hands of the new sultan the usual investiture of his khanat. my reply was 'kismet,' which means that it was a sin to think of the future. we shall see what fate had in store. bidding farewell to all my friends and acquaintances, i left khiva, after having sojourned there nearly a month. { } chapter ix. from khiva to bokhara. departure from khiva for bokhara ferry across the oxus great heat shurakhan market singular dialogue with kirghis woman on nomadic life tÜnÜklÜ alaman of the tekke karavan alarmed returns to tÜnÜklÜ forced to throw itself into the desert, 'destroyer of life' thirst death of camels death of a hadji stormy wind precarious state of author hospitable reception amongst persian slaves first impression of bokhara the noble. _et nous marchions à l'heure de midi traversant les souffles brûlants et empestés qui mettent en fusion les fibres du cerveau_. . . _je m'enfonce dans une plaine poussièreuse dont le sable agité ressemble à un vêtement rayé_.--victor hugo, from _omaïah ben aiëdz_. [departure from khiva for bokhara] at last, having got all ready for our journey, we gradually assembled in the well-shaded court of töshebaz. i was able that day for the first time fully to appreciate the influence that the pious charity of the khivites had exercised upon our mendicant karavan. it was only in the case of the more stingy that we could discern any traces of their former rags: in the place of the torn felt caps, worn amongst the yomuts, my friends had donned the snow-white turban; all the knapsacks were better filled; and what was most pleasing to see was, that even the poorest of the pilgrims had now his small ass to ride upon. my { } position was greatly changed, for i had the use of an ass, and half a share in a camel too; the former i was to ride, the latter i was to employ for the transport of my travelling bag containing my clothes (in the strict plural sense), a few mss. i had purchased, and my provisions. i no longer carried, as i had done in the desert, merely black flour; but white pogatcha (small cakes baked in the fat of mutton), rice, butter, and even sugar. i still preferred retaining the same dress. true i had come into possession of a shirt, but i took care not to put it on; it might have rendered me effeminate, and it was too soon to indulge in any such luxury. from khiva to bokhara we had the option between three routes, (a) by hezaresp and fitnek, crossing the oxus at kükurtli; (b) by khanka and shurakhan on its right bank, with two days of desert from the oxus to karaköl; and (c) up the river by water, and then, disembarking at eltchig, proceeding through the desert to karaköl. as we had decided to go by land, our kervanbashi's tadjik from bokhara, named aymed, left it to us to choose between the first two ways. we had, in company with a dealer in clothes from khiva, hired the camels from aymed, and the latter had recommended us the route by khanka as, at this period of the year, the safest and easiest. it was on a monday late in the afternoon when we suspended the functions of conferrers of blessings, and extricated ourselves from the embraces that seemed as if they never would end, and quitted khiva by the Ürgendj gate. many, whose zeal was transcendental, ran for half a league after us; their feeling of devotion forced tears from their eyes, and full of { } despair we heard them exclaim, 'who knows when khiva will again have the great good fortune to harbour in her walls so many pious men!' my colleagues, seated up aloft on their camels, were not again disturbed; but i, on my ass below, was repeatedly visited with active evidence of their friendship, until even my steed could no longer endure it, and, to my great delight, galloped of with me: and it was not until i was far beyond their reach that i thought it proper to recommend him greater steadiness. i was obliged, however, to tug a long time at the reins before i could induce my long-eared hippogriff to change his headlong career into a more sober yet still somewhat rapid trot; when i sought to moderate this still further, he began to show temper, and, for the first time, emitted a distracting cry, the richness, pliancy, and fulness of which i should have preferred criticising at a little farther distance. we passed the first night in godje, distant two miles from khiva. in spite of its insignificance it possesses a kalenterkhane (quarters for dervishes); we meet with such in khiva and khokand, even in the smallest hamlets. hence to khanka we traversed a country uninterruptedly under cultivation: along the whole way we saw excellent mulberry trees; and as my ass continued of good courage, and kept his place in advance of the karavan, i had time in passing to regale myself with berries as large and as thick as my thumb. still keeping the lead, i was the first to reach khanka; it was the weekly market. i dismounted at the kalenterkhane at the furthermost end of the town, situated upon the bank of a rivulet, and, as usual, well shaded by poplar and elm trees. { } i found here two half-naked dervishes on the point of swallowing down their noonday dose of opium; they offered me a little portion also, and were astonished to find me decline. they then prepared tea for me, and whilst i drank it, they took their own poisonous opiate, and in half an hour were in the happy realms; then, although i saw in the features of one slumberer traces of internal gladness, i detected in those of the other convulsive movements picturing the agony of death. i should have liked to remain, to hear from their own lips on awaking an account of their dreams; but our karavan was just then passing, and i was obliged to join it, for as it takes hardly an hour to reach the bank of the oxus from here, time was important if, as we intended, we were to cross the same day. unluckily for us, this part of the way was very bad; we did not get out of the mud and marshy ground until evening was drawing in; and we consequently determined to pass the night in the open air on the bank of the river. the breadth of the oxus was here so great that both banks were hardly distinguishable at the same time; this was probably owing to the season, for its waters were swollen, and covered a greater surface from the abundant supplies it had received in the spring. its yellow waves and tolerably rapid current presented a spectacle not without interest to my eye. the nearer bank is crowned far away to the horizon with trees, and with farms. one discovers on the further side also of the river, far in the interior, marks of cultivation, and towards the north the ovëis karaayne mountain appears like a cloud suspended perpendicularly from heaven. the water of the { } oxus in its proper bed is not so drinkable as in the canals and cuttings, where by its long passage the sand has had time to settle. in this place the water grits under the teeth, just as if you had taken a bite of a sand cake, and it must be allowed to stand some moments before it can be used. as for its quality of sweetness and good flavour, the inhabitants of turkestan are of opinion that there is no river on the earth comparable to it, not even the nile, mubarek (the blessed). at first i thought that this good flavour proceeded rather from fancy wrought up to a fit of enthusiasm on reaching its banks after having traversed the thirsty waterless desert. but no, the idea is founded on error; and i must admit myself that, as far as my experience of water extends, i have never found river or source that yielded any so precious as that of the oxus. [ferry across the oxus] early next morning we found the ferry. here at görlen hezaresp, and other places, the fords are the private property of the government, and are let to private individuals. the latter dare to transport to the opposite bank only such strangers as have from the khan a petek [footnote ] (passport), which is obtained on payment of a small tax. the hadjis had one joint passport, but i had procured an extra one, which was to the following effect:-- _literal translation_. 'it is notified to the watchers of the frontiers and the toll-collectors, that permission has been given to the hadji mollah abdur reshid efendi, and that no one is to trouble him.' [footnote : literally, a writing.] { } [illustration.] the ferry across the oxus. [great heat] no objections had been made to us on the part of the police. the document merely had this effect--that we, as hadjis, were to pay nothing for being ferried over in a boat belonging to the khan. the ferryman at first would not understand it so, but at last he consented, finding himself obliged, whether he had the feeling or not, to act upon the principle of charity, and to transport us, with our baggage and asses, to the further bank. we began to cross at ten o'clock in the morning, and did not reach before sunset a lofty bank that leads on the right to the shurakhan canal. the great river, properly so called, took us half-an-hour to pass; but we were carried by the stream far down the current, and before we reached the desired point through the armlets, now up, now down, the whole day passed away, and under such a broiling heat as i rarely before had experienced. in the main stream it was well enough, but in the armlets at the side we settled every ten paces on the sand, when men and asses were forced to quit the boat until it was got afloat; and when the water sufficed to bear it we again embarked. be it said, that the landing and re-embarkation of the asses was a terrible labour, and particularly with respect to some of the obstinate ones; these had to be carried out and in like helpless babes; and i laugh, even now, when i think how my long-legged friend, hadji yakoub, took his little ass upon his back, held it firmly by the fore-feet that hung down upon his chest, whilst the poor little brute, all in a tremor, strove to hide his head in the neck of the mendicant. [shurakhan; market] we were obliged to wait a day on the bank at shurakhan, until the camels were brought over; we then set out, proceeding through the district called yapkenary (bank of canal), which was cut up everywhere by canals. yapkenary forms an oasis, eight miles { } long and five or six broad. it is tolerably well cultivated. after it begins the desert, whose edge, called akkamish, has good pasturage and is peopled by kirghis. at akkamish the karavan began slowly to wind along its way. the kervanbashi, with myself and two others who could depend upon the pace of our asses, went out of our way to make an excursion to shurakhan, and to complete our store of provisions at the weekly market there, or, to speak more plainly, to divert ourselves. shurakhan, which is surrounded by a good wall of earth, boasts only a few houses for dwellings, but consists of shops. these are opened twice a week, and visited by the nomads and settlers of the country round. it is the property of the emir-ül-umera, or elder brother of the khan, who has a fine garden here. leaving my companions to make their purchases, i went back to the kalenterkhane, that stands before the gate of the town. i found here several dervishes, who had become as thin as skeletons by the fatal indulgence in that opium called beng (prepared from flax) and the djers, and were lying about dreadfully disfigured upon the damp ground in their dark cells. when i introduced myself they bade me welcome, and had bread and fruit laid before me. i offered money, but they laughed at that, and they told me that several of them had not, for twenty years, had any money in their hands. the district maintains its dervishes; and i saw, indeed, in the course of the day, many a stately Özbeg horseman arrive, bringing with him some contribution, but receiving in return a pipe, out of which he extracted his darling poison. in khiva, beng is the favourite narcotic; and many are { } addicted to this vice, because indulgence in wine and spirituous liquors is forbidden by the koran, and any infringement is a sin punished by the government with death. as it grew late i proceeded to the market to look for my friends, and it cost me much labour to make my way through the waving crowd. all were on horseback, sellers as well as buyers; and it was extremely droll to see how the kirghis women, with their great leathern vessels full of kimis, [footnote ] sitting on the horses, hold the opening of the skin above the mouth of the customer. there is adroitness in both parties, for very seldom do any drops fall aside. [footnote : a very acid drink, made of the milk of the mare or camel, for the preparation of which the kirghis are famous. the nomads of central asia use it as an intoxicating beverage, and it has the peculiar property of fattening. i tried it very often, but never could take more than a few drops, because the sharp acid affected my mouth and set my teeth on edge.] [singular dialogue with kirghis woman on nomadic life] i found my fellow-travellers, and we proceeded together to rejoin the karavan, now five leagues distant. the day was intensely hot; but, happily, here and there we came, in spite of the sandiness of the land, upon kirghis' tents, and i had only to approach one of them for the women to make their appearance with their skins, when a regular squabble arose amongst them if i did not accept a drink from everyone. to quicken thus a thirsty traveller in the heat of summer, is regarded as the supreme degree of hospitality, and you confer a kindness upon a kirghis when you give him an occasion to carry out its laws. the karavan was waiting our arrival with the greatest impatience: they were upon the point of starting, as henceforth we began to march only by night, a great solace both { } for us and for the cattle. immediately upon our coming up the move began, and bewitching was the view by the clear moonlight of the karavan winding onwards, the oxus rolling with a dull sound on our right, and the fearful desert of tartary on our left. the next morning we encamped on an elevated bank of the same river. the district there bears the name of töyeboyun (camel's neck), probably from the curves described by the bank: it is inhabited in certain months of the year by kirghis. in an interval of ten hours i saw in our neighbourhood three families of them, who in turn remained near us, but at most only three hours, when they moved on further. nothing could give me a more vivid picture of nomadic life; and when i afterwards questioned a kirghis woman respecting this unsettled mode of existence, she answered, laughingly, 'we shall, i am certain, never be so indolent as you mollahs, and remain sitting days and days in one place! man must keep moving; for, behold, sun, moon, stars, water, beast, bird, fish, all are in movement; it is but the dead and the earth that remain in their place!' i was upon the point of making many objections to the philosophy of this nomadic lady, when a cry was heard from a distance, in which i could distinguish the word büri! büri! (the wolf, the wolf). she hurried like lightning to the herd that was grazing afar off, and her shouting had such an effect that this time the wolf contented himself with the fat tail of a sheep, and with it took to his heels. i felt very disposed to ask her, as she returned, what advantages resulted from the wolf keeping 'moving,' but she was too much troubled by the loss she had sustained, and i returned to the karavan. { } before sunset we started again, and marched without stopping in the vicinity of the river. its deep banks are almost everywhere overgrown with willows, gigantic grass, and rushes. although the way between khiva and bokhara had been described to me as a frequented one, we had as yet, with the exception of the frontier-watchers and the nomads who were roaming about, not met a single traveller. what, then, was our astonishment when, about midnight, we saw five horsemen approaching at full speed! these were khivan merchants, who had come hither from bokhara, by karaköl, in four days. they communicated to us the pleasing intelligence that the routes were quite safe, and told us, at the same time, that we should meet, the day after the next, their karavan, which they had left behind them. we had heard on starting from khiva that the tekke turkomans, profiting by the absence from bokhara of the emir and his army, were infesting the approaches to the latter city, and our kervanbashi felt secretly anxious on that account; but what we now heard set his mind at ease. we were in hopes of reaching the end of our journey in six or eight days, of which we should have to pass only two without arriving at water, that is to say, in the desert between the oxus and karaköl. the next morning we encamped at tünüklü, the ruins of an ancient fortress on a little hill, at the foot of which flows the oxus, and which is itself covered with the most beautiful verdure. from this point there is a way lying in a north-easterly direction, through the sandy desert of khalata tchöli, otherwise designated djan batirdigan [footnote ] (life destroyer), but { } which is only frequented in winter, after heavy falls of snow, at times when the karaköl route is infested by the turkomans, who at that period of the year, owing to the freezing of the oxus, circulate in every direction without obstacle. [footnote : more correctly batirdurgan, present participle of the verb batirmak (destroy).] in the meantime the heat became more and more intense, but it did not much affect us, as we reposed every day on the banks of a mighty river, full of sweet water; and what feelings of grateful gladness were ours when we recollected kahriman ata, and other places in the great desert between khiva and gömüshtepe. unhappily we were soon disturbed in our agreeable reflections, and placed, by the freaks of some turkoman adventurers, in a position of danger such as might have brought us all to a terrible end, had we not been preserved by an accident or fatality. [alaman of the tekke; karavan alarmed returns to tünüklü] it was just about daybreak when we met on our march two half-naked men, who from a distance shouted out to our karavan. on coming up to us they sank upon the ground, uttering the words, 'a morsel of bread, a morsel of bread!' i was one of the first to tender them bread and mutton fat. after eating a little, they began to tell us that they were boatmen from hezaresp, and that they had been robbed by a tekke alaman of boat, clothes, and bread, and had been dismissed with life alone; that the robbers were in number, and contemplated a _razzia_ upon the herds of the kirghis round about. 'for god's sake,' said one of them, 'fly or conceal yourselves, or in a few hours you will encounter them, and in spite of your all being pious pilgrims, they will leave you behind in the desert, without beasts or food, for the kair, disbelieving tekke, are capable of anything.' our kervanbashi, who had { } been already twice robbed, and had had great difficulty in escaping with his life, needed not the counsel; scarcely had he heard the words 'tekke' and 'alaman,' when he in all haste gave the command to face about, and began the retreat with as much rapidity as the poor heavily-laden camels permitted. to attempt to fly with these animals from turkomans mounted on horses, would of course have been the height of folly; still, according to our calculation, horsemen could not be transported over the river till the morning, and whilst the robbers were cautiously proceeding on the route, we might again reach tünüklü, and having refilled our water-skins, throw ourselves into the khalata (desert), where our destruction might not be so certain. after the most excessive exertions, our poor brutes arrived quite exhausted before tünüklü. here we were obliged to accord them a little pasture and repose, otherwise it would have been impossible to reach even the first station in the sand. we tarried on the spot therefore perforce, tremblingly, three hours, until we had had time to fill our skins, and to make preparations for the terrible journey. the dealer in clothes from khiva, who had himself been once already robbed by the turkomans, had, in the meantime, persuaded several of the hadjis--those i mean who had well-filled sacks, but no courage --rather to hide themselves with him in the underwood on the river's bank, than during the saratan (dog-days) to throw themselves into the desert, where they would be menaced not only with death from thirst, but with destruction from the tebbad (hot-wind from the east). { } he painted the perils in such lively terms that many separated themselves from our party; and as just at that moment an empty skiff appeared on the river, and the boatmen, approaching the bank where we were, offered to take us to hezaresp, every one began to waver, and soon there remained only fourteen faithful to the original plan of the kervanbashi. that, indeed, was the most critical moment of my whole journey! to return to khiva might, i reflected, disturb the whole design of my journey. 'my life, indeed, is threatened everywhere--is everywhere in danger; forward, then, forward! better to perish by the fury of the elements than by the racks of tyrants!' i remained with the kervanbashi, as did also hadji salih and hadji bilal. it was a painful scene, that parting from our cowardly fellow-travellers; and behold, as the skiff was upon the point of putting off, our friends already on board proposed a fal. [footnote ] [footnote : fal (prognostic) is where one opens either the koran or any other religious book at random, and seeks on the page before him a passage appropriate to his wish.] the pebbles, indicating the number of verses to be read, were shared amongst us, and hardly had hadji salih, with the eye of experience, ascertained the result, when nearly all the hadjis, abandoning the skiff, came back to us, and as everything was at hand, to prevent further hesitation and wavering, the impulse was at once obeyed, and we started. the sun had not yet set when we found ourselves already on the way to the khalata, diverging sideways from the ruins of tünüklü. [forced to throw itself into the desert, 'destroyer of life'] it is easy to imagine what mood we were in, i and my companions, already so well acquainted with the terrors of the desert! from gömüshtepe to khiva we had been in the month of may; we were now in july. { } then we had had rain-water; but here there was not a single source that could be turned to account. with unutterable regret our eyes rested on the oxus, that became more and more remote, and shone doubly beautiful in the last beams of the departing sun. even the camels, who before we started had drunk abundantly, kept their eyes so full of expression for a long, long time turned in the same direction! a few stars began to gleam in the heavens when we reached the sandy desert. we maintained the stillness of death during our march, in order that we might escape the notice of the turkomans probably then in our vicinity. they might perhaps not see us on account of the darkness of the night, the moon not rising till later. we wished also that no sound might betray our position to them. on the soft ground the tread of the camels produced no echo. we feared, however, that some freak of braying might occur to our asses, for their voices would echo far and wide in the still night. towards midnight we reached a place where we were all obliged to dismount, as both asses and camels were sinking down to their knees in the fine sand. this, indeed, formed there an uninterrupted chain of little hills. in the cool night march i could just manage to tramp on through this endless sand; but towards morning i felt my hand beginning to swell from continually resting upon my staff. i consequently placed my baggage on the ass, and took its place upon the camel; which, although breathing hard, was still more in his element in the sand than i with my lame leg. [thirst] our morning station bore the charming appellation of adamkyrylgan (which means 'the place where men perish'), and one needed only to cast a look at the { } horizon to convince himself how appropriate is that name. let the reader picture to himself a sea of sand, extending as far as eye can reach, on one side formed into high hills, like waves, lashed into that position by the furious storm; on the other side, again, like the smooth waters of a still lake, merely rippled by the west wind. not a bird visible in the air, not a worm or beetle upon the earth; traces of nothing but departed life, in the bleaching bones of man or beast that has perished, collected by every passer-by in a heap, to serve to guide the march of future travellers! why add that we moved on unnoticed by the turkomans? the man does not exist on earth that could make a station here on horseback; but whether the elements would not oppose our progress was a point the consideration of which shook even the _sang froid_ of the oriental, and the sombre looks of my fellow-travellers during the whole way best betrayed their anxiety. according to what the kervanbashi told us, we should have had altogether on this way, from tünüklü to bokhara, only six days' journey, half through sand, the rest over firm and even ground, where here and there grass is met with and shepherds resort. consequently, after the examination of our skins, we calculated that we should only have to apprehend a deficiency of water during one day and a half; but the very first day i remarked that the oxus water did not bear out our calculations; that that most precious liquid, although we made a most sparing use of it, diminished every moment, either from the heat of the sun, its own evaporation, or some such cause. this discovery made me watch my stores with double carefulness; in this i was imitated by the others, and, in spite of our anxiety, it was even comical to see how { } the slumberers slept, firmly embracing their water vessels. [death of camels] notwithstanding the scorching heat, we were obliged to make, during the day also, marches of from five to six hours' duration, for the sooner we emerged from the region of sand, the less occasion we had to dread the dangerous wind tebbad, [footnote ] for on the firm plain it can but bring with it the torture of fever, whereas in the region of sand it can in a moment bury everything. the strength of the poor camels was taxed too far; they entered the desert wearied by their nocturnal journey; it was not, therefore, surprising that some fell ill through the torments of the sand and the heat, and that two died even at this day's station. it bears the name of shorkutuk. this word signifies salt fountain, and one, in fact, is said to exist here, adequate for the refreshment of beasts, but it was entirely choked up by the stormy wind, and a day's labour would have been necessary to render it again serviceable. [footnote : tebbad, a persian word signifying _fever wind_.] [death of a hadji] but let alone the tebbad, the oppressive heat by day had already left us without strength, and two of our poorer companions, forced to tramp on foot by the side of their feeble beasts, having exhausted all their water, fell so sick that we were forced to bind them at full length upon the camels, as they were perfectly incapable of riding or sitting. we covered them, and as long as they were able to articulate they kept exclaiming, 'water! water!' the only words that escaped their lips. alas! even their best friends denied them the life-dispensing draught; and when we, on the fourth day, reached medemin bulag one { } of them was freed by death from the dreadful torments of thirst. it was one of the three brothers who had lost their father at mecca. i was present when the unfortunate man drew his last breath. his tongue was quite black, the roof of his mouth of a greyish white; in other respects his features were not much disfigured, except that his lips were shrivelled, the teeth exposed, and the mouth open. i doubt much whether, in these extreme sufferings, water would have been of service; but who was there to give it to him? it is a horrible sight to see the father hide his store of water from the son, and brother from brother; each drop is life, and when men feel the torture of thirst, there is not, as in the other dangers of life, any spirit of self-sacrifice, or any feeling of generosity. [stormy wind] we passed three days in the sandy parts of the desert. we had now to gain the firm plain, and come in sight of the khalata mountain, that stretches away toward the north. unhappily, disappointment again awaited us. our beasts were incapable of further exertion, and we passed a fourth day in the sand. i had still left about six glasses of water in my leathern bottle. these i drank drop by drop, suffering, of course, terribly from thirst. greatly alarmed to find that my tongue began to turn a little black in the centre, i immediately drank off at a draught half of my remaining store, thinking so to save my life; but, oh! the burning sensation, followed by headache, became more violent towards the morning of the fifth day, and when we could just distinguish, about mid-day, the khalata mountains from the clouds that surrounded them, i felt my strength gradually abandon me. { } the nearer we approached the mountains, the thinner the sand became, and all eyes were searching eagerly to discover a drove of cattle or shepherd's hut, when the kervanbashi and his people drew our attention to a cloud of dust that was approaching, and told us to lose no time in dismounting from the camels. these poor brutes knew well enough that it was the tebbad that was hurrying on; uttering a loud cry, they fell on their knees, stretched their long necks along the ground, and strove to bury their heads in the sand. we entrenched ourselves behind them, lying there as behind a wall (_see plate_); and scarcely had we, in our turn, knelt under their cover, than the wind rushed over us with a dull, clattering sound, leaving us, in its passage, covered with a crust of sand two fingers thick. the first particles that touched me seemed to burn like a rain of flakes of fire. had we encountered it when we were six miles deeper in the desert, we should all have perished. i had not time to make observations upon the disposition to fever and vomiting caused by the wind itself, but the air became heavier and more oppressive than before. [illustration] tebbad--sand storm in the desert. where the sand comes entirely to an end, three different ways are visible: the first ( miles long) passes by karaköl; the second ( miles), through the plain to the immediate vicinity of bokhara; the third ( miles) traverses the mountains where water is to be met with, but it is inaccessible to camels on account of its occasional steepness. we took, as it had been previously determined, the middle route, the shortest, particularly as we were animated by the hope of finding water amongst those who tended their flocks there. towards evening we reached fountains that had not yet been visited this year by the { } shepherds; the water, undrinkable by man, still refreshed our beasts. we were ourselves all very ill, like men half dead, without any animation but that which proceeded from the now well-grounded hope that we should all be saved! [precarious state of author; hospitable reception amongst persian slaves] i was no longer able to dismount without assistance; they laid me upon the ground; a fearful fire seemed to burn my entrails; my headache reduced me almost to a state of stupefaction. my pen is too feeble to furnish even a slight sketch of the martyrdom that thirst occasions; i think that no death can be more painful. although i have found myself able to nerve myself to face all other perils, here i felt quite broken. i thought, indeed, that i had reached the end of my life. towards midnight we started, i fell asleep, and on awaking in the morning found myself in a mud hut, surrounded by people with long beards; in these i immediately recognised children of 'iran.' they said to me: 'shuma ki hadji nistid' (you, certainly, are no hadji). i had no strength to reply. they at first gave me something warm to drink, and a little afterwards some sour milk, mixed with water and salt, called here 'airan:' that gave me strength and set me up again. i now first became aware that i and my other fellow-travellers were the guests of several persian slaves, who had been sent hither in the middle of the wilderness, at a distance of ten miles from bokhara, to tend sheep; they had received from their owners only a scanty supply of bread and water, so that they might find it impossible to make such a provision as should help them to flee away through the wilderness. and yet these unfortunate exiles had had the magnanimity to share their store of water with their arch-enemies, { } the sunnite mollahs! to me they showed peculiar kindness, as i addressed them in their mother tongue. persian, it is true, is spoken also in bokhara, but the persian of the irani is different from the former. i was much touched to see amongst them a child five years old, also a slave, of great intelligence. he had been, two years before, captured and sold with his father. when i questioned him about the latter, he answered me confidingly. 'yes; my father has bought himself (meaning paid his own ransom); at longest i shall only be a slave two years, for by that time my father will have spared the necessary money.' the poor child had on him hardly anything but a few little rags, to cover his weak little body; his skin was of the hardness and colour of leather. i gave him one of my own articles of attire, and he promised me to have a dress made out of it for himself. the unhappy persians gave us besides a little water to take with us. i left them with a mixed feeling of gratitude and compassion. we started with the intention of making our next station at khodja oban, a place to which pilgrims resort to visit the grave of a saint of the same name: it was, indeed, out of our road, lying a little to the north, still, as hadjis, we were bound to proceed thither. to the great regret of my companions we lost our way at night between the hills of sand that are on the margin of the desert, and out of the middle of which khodja oban projects like an oasis; and when, after a long search, the day broke we found ourselves on the bank of a lake full of sweet water. here terminated the desert, and with it the fear of a death from thirst, robbers, wind, or other hardships. we had now come positively to the frontiers of bokhara, properly so called; and when, { } after two leagues' journey, we reached khakemir (the village where the kervanbashi resided), we found ourselves already in the middle of a country tolerably well cultivated. the whole district is watered by canals connected with the river zereshan. in khakemir there are but houses. it is only two leagues distant from bokhara. we were obliged to pass the night here, that the tax-collector (badjghir) and reporter (vakanüvisz), informed of our arrival in accordance with the law, might be in a position to complete their report of search and examination outside the city. the very same day a messenger went express, and the following one, very early in the morning, arrived three of the emir's officers, with faces full of official dignity and importance, to levy upon us the imposts and duties, but more especially to learn tidings concerning the adjoining countries. they first began to overhaul our baggage. the hadjis had, for the most part, in their knapsacks holy beads from mecca, dates from medina, combs from persia, and knives, scissors, thimbles, and small looking-glasses from frenghistan. and although my friends declared that the emir, 'god grant him to live years,' would never take any customs from hadjis, the collector did not in the slightest degree allow himself to be diverted from his functions, but wrote down each article separately. i remained, with two other mendicants, to the last. when the official looked at my face he laughed, told me to show my trunk, 'for that _we_' (meaning, probably, europeans, as he took me for one) 'had always fine things with us.' i happened to be in excellent humour, and had on my dervish or fool's cap. i interrupted the cunning bokhariot, saying 'that i had, { } in effect, some beautiful things, which he would see himself when he came to examine my property, movable and immovable.' as he insisted upon seeing everything, i ran into the court, fetched my ass, and led it to him up the stairs and over the carpets into the room; and after having introduced it, amid the loud laughter of my companions, i lost no time in opening my knapsack, and then showed him the few rags and old books which i had collected in khiva. the disappointed bokhariot looked round him in astonishment, demanding if i really had nothing more. whereupon hadji salih gave him explanations as to my rank, my character, as well as the object i had in view, in my journey; all of which he noted down carefully, accompanying the act with a look at me and a shake of the head full of meaning. when the collector had finished with us, the functions of the vakanüvisz (writer of events) began. he first took down the name of each traveller with a detailed description of his person, and then whatever information or news each might have it in his power to give. what a ridiculous proceeding--a long string of questions respecting khiva, a land of kindred language, origin, and religion with bokhara; their frontiers having been for centuries and centuries coterminous, and their capitals lying only a few days' journey distant from each other. [first impression of bokhara the noble.] everything was in order, only some difference of opinion arose as to the quarter in the capital where we should first put up. the collector proposed the custom-house, hoping, at least, there to be able to squeeze something out of us, or to subject me to a stricter examination. hadji salih (for the latter, possessing much influence in bokhara, now took the lead in the { } karavan) declared, on the contrary, his purpose to put up in the tekkie; and we started at once from khakemir, and had only proceeded half-an-hour through a country resplendent with gardens and cultivated fields, when bokhara sherif (the noble, as the central asiatics designate it) appeared in view, with, amongst some other buildings, its clumsy towers, crowned, almost without exception, by nests of storks. [footnote ] [footnote : in khiva nightingales abound, but there are no storks; the reverse is the case at bokhara, in which there is not a single tower or other elevated building where we do not see birds of the last-named description, sitting, like single-legged sentinels, upon the roofs. the khivite mocks the bokhariot upon this subject, saying, 'thy nightingale song is the bill-clapping of the stork.'] at the distance of about a league and a half from the city we crossed the zerefshan. it flows in a southerly direction, and, although its current is tolerably strong, is fordable by camels and horses. on the opposite side was still visible the _tête du pont_ of a once handsomely-built stone bridge. close to it stood the ruins of a palace, also of stone. i was told that it was the work of the renowned abdullah khan sheibani. taken altogether, there are, in the immediate environs of the capital of central asia, few remains of her former grandeur. { } chapter x. bokhara reception at the tekkie, the chief nest of islamism rahmet bi bazaars baha-ed-din, great saint of turkestan spies set upon author fate of recent travellers in bokhara book bazaar the worm (rishte) water supply late and present emirs harem, government, family of reigning emir slave depot and trade departure from bokhara, and visit to the tomb of baha-ed-din. _within earth's wide domains are markets for men's lives; their necks are galled with chains, their wrists are cramped with gyves._ _dead bodies, that the kite in deserts makes its prey; murders that with affright scare school-boys from their play!_ --longfellow. [bokhara; reception at the tekkie, the chief nest of islamism] the road led us to the dervaze imam, situated to the west, but we did not pass through it, because, as our tekkie lay to the north-east, we should have been forced to make our way through all the throngs in the bazaar. we preferred, therefore, to take a circuitous route along the city wall. this we found, in many places, in a ruinous state. entering by the gate called dervaze mezar, we speedily reached the spacious tekkie. it was planted with fine trees, formed a regular square, and had forty-eight cells on the ground floor. { } the present khalfa (principal) is grandson of khalfa hüsein, renowned for his sanctity, and the tekkie itself is named after him. the estimation in which his family stands is shown by the fact that his relative, above mentioned, is imam and khatib (court priest) of the emir, an official position which made me not a little proud of my host. hadji salih, who was a mürid (disciple) of the saint, and was consequently regarded as a member of the family, presented me. the respectable 'abbot,' a man of gentle demeanour and agreeable exterior, whom his snow-white turban and summer dress of fine silk well became, received me in the warmest manner, and, as i maintained for half-an-hour a conversation couched in tumid and far-fetched language, the good man was overjoyed, and regretted that the badewlet [footnote ] (his majesty the emir) was not in bokhara, that he might immediately present me. [footnote : badewlet means properly 'the prosperous one.'] [rahmet bi] he assigned me a cell to myself in the place of honour, that is where i had, as neighbours, on one side a very learned mollah, and on the other hadji salih: this establishment was filled with personages of celebrity. i had fallen, without having remarked it, upon the chief nest of islamite fanaticism in bokhara. the locality itself, if i could but accommodate myself to its spirit, might turn out the best and safest guarantee against all suspicions, and save me all disagreeable scenes with the civil authorities. the reporter had returned my arrival as an event of importance; the first officer of the emir, rahmet bi, who during his master's campaign in khokand commanded in bokhara, had directed that the hadjis should, that very day, be questioned concerning me; { } but in the tekkie the emir's orders were inoperative, and so little respect was entertained for the investigation, that no communication at all was made to me on the subject. my good friends replied in the following manner to the doubts of laymen:--'hadji reshid is not only a good musselman, but at the same time a learned mollah; to have any suspicion of him is a mortal sin.' but, in the meantime, they advised me how i was to act, and it is solely to their counsels and invaluable suggestions that i can ascribe my having entirely escaped mishap in bokhara; for, not to mention the sad ends of those travellers who preceded me to this city, i have found it a most perilous place, not only for all europeans, but for every stranger, because the government has carried the system of espionage to just as high a pitch of perfection as the population has attained pre-eminence in every kind of profligacy and wickedness. [bazaars] i went next morning, accompanied by hadji salih and four others of our friends, to view the city and the bazaars; and although the wretchedness of the streets and houses far exceeded that of the meanest habitations in persian cities, and the dust, a foot deep, gave but an ignoble idea of the 'noble bokhara,' i was nevertheless astonished when i found myself for the first time in the bazaar, and in the middle of its waving crowd. these establishments in bokhara are indeed far from splendid and magnificent, like those of teheran, tabris, and isfahan; but still, by the strange and diversified intermixture of races, dresses, and customs, they present a very striking spectacle to the eye of a stranger. in the moving multitude most bear the type of iran, and have their heads surmounted by { } a turban, white or blue--the former colour being distinctive of the gentleman or the mollah, the latter the appropriate ornament of the merchant, handi-craftsman, and servant. after the persian it is the tartar physiognomy that predominates. we meet it in all its degrees, from the Özbeg, amongst whom we find a great intermixture of blood, to the kirghis, who have preserved all the wildness of their origin. no need to look the latter in the face; his heavy, firm tread suffices alone to distinguish him from the turani and the irani. then imagine that you see in the midst of the throng of the two principal races of asia some indians (multani, as they are here called) and jews. both wear a polish cap, for the sake of distinction, [footnote ] and a cord round their loins; the former, with his red mark on his forehead, and his yellow repulsive face, might well serve to scare away crows from rice fields; the latter, with his noble, pre-eminently-handsome features, and his splendid eye, might sit to any of our artists for a model of manly beauty. there were also turkomans distinguished from all by the superior boldness and fire of their glance, thinking, perhaps, what a rich harvest the scene before them would yield to one of their alamans. of afghans but few are seen. the meaner sort, with their long dirty shirts, and still dirtier hair streaming down, throw a cloth, in roman fashion, round their shoulders; but this does not prevent their looking like persons who rush for safety from their beds into the streets, when their houses are on fire. [footnote : elameti tefrikie, which according to the provisions of the koran, every subject, not a musselman, must wear in order that the salutation 'selam aleïkum' (peace be with you!) may not be thrown away upon him.] { } this diversified chaos of bokhariots, khivites, khokandi, kirghis, kiptchak, turkomans, indians, jews, and afghans, is represented in all the principal bazaars; and although everything is in unceasing movement up and down, i am yet unable to detect any trace of the bustling life so strikingly characteristic of the bazaars in persia. i kept close to my companions, casting as i passed glances at the booths, which contain, with a few articles from the other countries in europe, fancy goods and merchandise, more especially of russian manufacture. these have no particular intrinsic attractions in themselves for a european traveller to this remote city; but they interest him nevertheless, for each piece of calico, each ticket attached to it, identifying the origin with the name of the manufacturer, makes him feel as if he has met a countryman. how my heart beat when i read the words 'manchester' and 'birmingham,' and how apprehensive i was of betraying myself by an imprudent exclamation! there are very few large warehouses or wholesale dealers; and in spite of cotton, calico, and fine muslin being sold, not only in the restei tchit furushi (the place where cotton is exposed for sale), which has shops, but also in many other places in the city, i might boldly affirm that my friends 'hanhart and company,' in tabris, dispose alone of as much of the articles above named as the whole city of bokhara, in spite of the latter being denominated the capital of central asia. that department in its bazaar has more interest for the stranger, where he sees spread out before him the products of asiatic soil and native industry; such, for instance, as that cotton stuff named aladja, which { } has narrow stripes of two colours, and a fine texture; different sorts of silken manufactures, from the fine handkerchief of the consistence of the spider's web, to the heavy atres; but particularly manufactures in leather. these play, indeed, a preeminent part; in this department the skill of the leather-cutter, and still more, that of the shoemaker, deserves commendation. boots, both for male and female wear, are tolerably well made: the former have high heels, terminating in points about the size of a nail's head; the latter are somewhat thick, but often ornamented with the finest silk. i had almost forgotten the bazaar and booths where clothes are exposed to tempt the eyes of purchasers. they consist of articles of attire of brilliant bright colours. the oriental, only here to be met with in his original purity and peculiarity, is fond of the tchakhtchukh or rustling tone of the dress. it was always an object of great delight to me to see the seller parading up and down a few paces in the new tchapan (dress), to ascertain whether it gave out the orthodox tone. all is the produce of home manufacture, and very cheap; consequently it is in the clothes' market of bokhara that 'believers,' even from remote parts of tartary, provide themselves with fashionable attire. even the kirghis, kiptchak, and kalmuks are in the habit of making excursions hither from the desert; and the wild tartar, with his eyes oblique and chin prominent, laughs for joy when he exchanges his clothes, made of the undressed horse-skins, for a light yektey (a sort of summer dress), for it is here that he sees his highest ideal of civilisation. bokhara is his paris or his london. { } after having strolled around for about three hours, i begged my guide and excellent friend, hadji salih, to lead me to a place of refreshment, where i might be allowed a little repose. he complied, and conducted me through the timtche tchay furushi (tea bazaar) to the renowned place lebi hauz divanbeghi (bank of the reservoir of the divanbeghi). for bokhara, i found this a most attractive spot. it is almost a perfect square, having in the centre a deep reservoir, feet long and broad; the sides are of square stones, with eight steps leading down to the surface of the water. about the margin stand a few fine elm trees, and in their shade the inevitable tea booth, and the samovars (tea-kettle), looking like a colossal cask of beer. it is manufactured in russia expressly for bokhara, and invites every one to a cup of green tea. on the other three sides, bread, fruit, confectionery, and meats warm and cold, are exposed for sale on stands shaded by cane mats. the hundreds of shops improvised for the occasion, around which crowds of longing mouths or hungry customers hum like bees, present us with a very characteristic spectacle. on the fourth side, that to the west, which is in the form of a terrace, we find the mosque mesdjidi divanbeghi. at its front there are also a few trees, where dervishes and meddah (public reciters) recount in verse and prose, and actors represent simultaneously, the heroic actions of famous warriors and prophets; to which performances there are never wanting crowds of curious listeners and spectators. when i entered this place, as fate would have it, still further to enhance the interest of the exhibition, there were passing by, in their weekly procession, dervishes of the order of the nakishbendi, of whom this city is { } the place of origin and the principal abode. never shall i forget that scene when those fellows, with their wild enthusiasm and their high conical caps, fluttering hair, and long staves, danced round like men possessed, bellowing out at the same time a hymn, each strophe of which was first sung for them by their grey-bearded chief. with eye and ear so occupied, i soon forgot my fatigue. my friend was obliged positively to force me to enter a booth, and, after the precious shivin (a kind of tea) was poured out, wishing to profit by the ecstatic feeling in which he found me, he asked me, chucklingly, 'now, then, what do you say to bokhara sherif (the noble)?' 'it pleases me much,' i replied; and the central asiatic, although from khokand, and an alien enemy, as his nation was at that moment at war with bokhara, was nevertheless delighted to find that the capital of turkestan had made such a conquest of me, and gave me his word that he would show me its finest features in the course of the following days. [baha-ed-din, great saint of turkestan] in spite of the costume, strictly bokhariot, which i had this day assumed, and of my being so tanned by the sun that even my mother would have had a difficulty in recognising me, i was surrounded, wherever i appeared, by a crowd of inquisitive persons. ah! how they shook me by the hands, and how they embraced me; how they wearied me to death! an immense turban [footnote ] crowned my head, a large koran hung suspended from my neck; [footnote : the turban, it is well known, represents the pall that every pious musselman must bear on his head as a continual memento of death. the koran only enjoins a pall (kefen) having a length of ells. but zealots often exceed the measure, and carry about on their heads to such palls, thus making altogether from to ells of fine muslin.] { } i had thus assumed the exterior of an ishan or sheikh, and was obliged to submit to the _corvée_ which i had so provoked. still, i had reason to be contented, for the sanctity of my character had protected me from secular interrogations, and i heard how the people about questioned my friends, or whispered their criticisms to each other. 'what extreme piety,' said one, 'to come all the way from constantinople to bokhara alone, in order to visit our baha-ed-din!' [footnote ] 'yes,' said a second, 'and we, too, we go to mecca, the holiest place of all, to be sure, with no little trouble.' but these people (and he pointed to me) having nothing else to do, their whole life is prayer, piety, and pilgrimage.' 'bravo! you have guessed it,' i said to myself, delighted that my disguise was becoming so pregnant of consequence. and really i was, during my whole stay in the capital of turkestan, not once an object of doubt or suspicion to the people, in other respects cunning and malicious enough. they came to me for my blessing; they listened to me when, on the public places, i read to them the history of the great sheikh of bagdad, abdul kadr ghilani. they praised me, but not a farthing did i ever get from them; and the semblance of sanctity in this nation presented a singular contrast with the genuine piety and benevolence of the khivan ozbegs. [footnote : baha-ed-din,--or according to bokhariot pronunciation, baveddin--is an ascetic and saint renowned throughout all islam, the founder of the nakishbendi order; members of it are to be met with in india, china, persia, arabia, and turkey. he died in , and the convent, as well as the mosque, and space walled in for his grave in the village of baveddin, were erected by direction of abdul aziz khan in the year .] { } [spies set upon author; fate of recent travellers in bokhara] but in playing my part it was not so easy to deceive the government as the people. rahmet bi, whom i before spoke of, not being able to come at me openly, set spies incessantly at work. these, in conversing with me, took care to embrace a variety of subjects, but always came to the subject of frenghistan, hoping, probably, that i should betray myself by some unguarded expression or other. perceiving that the twig which they had so limed did not catch its bird, they began to speak of the great pleasure which the frenghis experience in the 'noble' bokhara, and how already many of their spies, but particularly the englishmen, conolly and stoddart, had been punished. [footnote ] or they recounted to me the story of the frenghis who had arrived only a few days before, and had been imprisoned (referring to the unfortunate italians); how they had brought with them several chests of tea sprinkled with diamond dust, to poison all the inhabitants of the holy city; how they converted day into night, and brought about other infernal strokes of art. [footnote ] [footnote : the sad fate of these two martyrs has continued to remain, as i remarked, a secret even in bokhara; the most contradictory reports are up to the present day in circulation upon this subject. the reader will readily understand that without betraying my real identity it was impossible for me to put the necessary questions to elicit any fresh information; and the sad event having been so frequently and so fully entered into by wolff, ferrier, t. w. kaye, and others who have written officially and unofficially upon the subject, any notices collected by myself in my journey through bokhara seem entirely useless and uncalled for.] [footnote : they, it appears, have recently been liberated.] { } [book bazaar] these bloodhounds were for the most part hadjis who had long dwelt in constantinople, and whose design was to test at once my knowledge of its language, and my acquaintance with its mode of living. after listening to them a long time with patience, it was my habit to put on an air of disgust, and to beg them to spare me any further conversation about the frenghis. 'i quitted constantinople,' i said, 'to get away from these frenghis, who seem indebted to the devil for their understanding. thank god i am now in the "noble" bokhara, and do not wish to embitter the time i spend here by any recollections.' similar language i employed also with the crafty mollah sherefeddin, the aksakal of the booksellers, who showed me a list of books which a russian ambassador, a few years ago, had left behind him. i threw my eye carelessly over them and observed, 'allah be praised, my memory is not yet corrupted by the science and books of the frenghis, as unhappily is too often the case with the turks of constantinople!' [footnote ] [footnote : one day, a servant of the vizir brought to me a little shrivelled individual, that i might examine him to see whether he was, as he pretended, really an arab from damascus. when he first entered, his features struck me much, they appeared to me european: when he opened his mouth, my astonishment and perplexity increased, for i found his pronunciation anything rather than that of an arab. he told me that he had undertaken a pilgrimage to the tomb of djafen ben sadik at khoten in china, and wanted to proceed on his journey that very day. his features during our conversation betrayed a visible embarrassment, and it was a subject of great regret to me that i had not an occasion to see him a second time, for i am strongly disposed to think that he was playing a part similar to my own!] when rhamet bi saw that he could not, by his emissaries, found any accusation, he summoned me to attend him. of course, this was in the form of a public invitation to a pilow, which was also attended by a circle composed of bokhariot ulemas. at my very entry i found that i had a hard nut to crack, for the whole interview was a sort of examination, in { } which my incognito had to stand a running fire. i saw, however, while it was yet time, the danger to which i was exposed; and, to escape being surprised by some sudden question or other, i assumed the part of one himself curious of information, frequently interrogating these gentlemen as to the difference of religious principles in the farz, sünnet, vadjib, and mustahab. [footnote ] [footnote : these are the four grades expressing the importance of the commandments of islam. farz means the duty enjoined by god through the prophet; sünnet, the tradition emanating from the prophet himself without divine inspiration. the latter two words, vadjib and mustahab, signify ordinances originating with more recent interpreters of the koran; the former being obligatory, the latter discretionary.] my earnestness met with favour; and soon a very warm dispute arose upon several points in hidayet, sherkhi vekaye, and other books treating of similar subjects; in this i was careful to take part, praising loudly the bokhariot mollahs, and admitting their great superiority, not only over me, but over all the ulemas of constantinople. suffice it to say that i got safe through this ordeal also. my brethren, the mollahs, gave rahmet bi to understand, both by their signs and words, that his reporter had made a great mistake, and that, even supposing me not to be a mollah of distinction, i was still one on the high road to receive worthily the lightning-flash of true knowledge. after this scene they left me to live a quiet life in bokhara. it was my practice first of all to fulfil at home the different duties imposed upon me by my character of dervish. i then proceeded to the book bazaar, which contains twenty-six shops. a printed { } book is here a rarity. in this place, and in the houses of the booksellers (for there is the great depot), many are the treasures that i have seen, which would be of incalculable value to our oriental historians and philologists. their acquisition was, in my case, out of the question, for in the first place i had not the adequate means, and in the second, any appearance of worldly knowledge might have prejudiced my disguise. the few manuscripts that i brought back with me from bokhara and samarcand cost me much trouble to acquire, and my heart bled when i found that i was obliged to leave behind me works that might have filled many an important history in our oriental studies. from the book market i was in the habit of resorting to the righistan (public place); it lay rather remote. although larger and more bustling than the lebi hauz, which i before described, it is far from being so agreeable; we find here also a reservoir surrounded by booths for tea; from the bank we can discern the ark (castle or palace) of the emir, which is on the opposite side, situate upon high ground. the portal was crowned by a clock; it had a gloomy appearance. i shuddered when i passed by this nest of tyranny, the place where, perhaps, many who preceded me had been murdered, and where, even at that moment, three wretched europeans were languishing so far from their country and every possibility of succour. near the gate lay fourteen pieces of brass cannon, the long barrels of which were highly ornamented. the emir had sent them home from khokand as trophies of the victories gained in his campaign. above, to the right of the palace, is mesdjidi kelan, the largest mosque in bokhara; it was built by abdullah khan sheibani. { } after leaving the righistan, i entered the tea-booth of a chinese from komul, [footnote ] a man perfectly acquainted with the turko-tartar language, and who passed here for a musselman. this good man was very friendly to me, and yet how far were our homes asunder! he recounted to me much concerning the beautiful locality, much of the customs, and the excellent dishes, too, of his fatherland! but his experience was particularly great in matters connected with teas. how enthusiastically he spoke when treating of the tea-shrub, which displayed upon a single stem leaves of such a variety of flavours! he had in his shop sixteen different kinds, which he could distinguish by the touch. [footnote ] [footnote : komul is distant stations from kashgar and from bokhara.] [footnote : the teas were of the following kinds:-- ( ) kyrkma. ( ) akhbar. ( ) ak kuyruk. these kinds, rarely seen in central asia and in china, are more used in russia, persia, and europe. ( ) kara tchaj. ( ) sepet tchaj. these two, sold like chinese kynaster, pressed into the form of a brick, are drunk only in the morning with cream and salt, and are very stimulating. ( ) shibaglu. ( ) gore shibaglu. ( ) shivin. ( ) it kellesi. ( ) bönge. ( ) poshun. ( ) pu-tchay. ( ) tun tey. ( ) gülbuy. ( ) mishk-göz. ( ) lonka. these are all green teas, none others are in favour in the north of china and in central asia. the last-named (lonka) is regarded as the most precious, a single leaf suffices for a cup which equals two of ours. the purchaser first forms a judgment of his tea by tasting a leaf that has been already boiled: when the tea is good the leaf is extremely fine and soft.] { } i had, during my journey from teheran to bokhara, heard the latter city so often described by my companions, that after a sojourn of eight days i was quite at home. first of all hadji salih led me everywhere, and then i continued my investigations alone, through the city, its bazaars, and its colleges (medresse), only accompanying my friends when we received joint invitations to the house of a chinese tartar who had settled there. we were on these occasions usually treated to national dishes, to which my friends (i mean hadji bilal and his party) had long been strangers. there is one which i will impart in confidence to my european readers, for i can recommend it as a dainty. it is called mantuy, a sort of pudding filled with hashed meat mixed with fat and spices. this they boil in a singular manner. they place upon the fire a kettle of water, which is covered in at the top, with the exception of an opening of about the size of one's closed hand. upon this opening are placed three or four strainers or sieves, which close firmly, the under one being made fast with dough to the kettle itself. as soon as the water begins to boil, and a sufficient quantity of steam passes into the strainers, the mantuy is at first laid in the upper, and then in the lowest strainer; here it is suffered to remain until done. it seems singular that the chinese should employ steam in the preparation of their meats! the mantuys, after having been boiled, are then often broiled in fat, when they receive the name zenbusi (lady's kiss). my friends from kashgar and yarkend have many more dishes peculiarly their own, but these receipts would only suit a tartar cookery book. { } [the worm (rishte)] during the whole time of my stay in bokhara, the weather was insupportably hot; but another circumstance doubled my sufferings--the apprehension of the rishte (filaria medinensis), by which, during the season, one person in every ten is attacked. this obliged me to be continually drinking warm water or tea. this affection is quite usual, and is treated with as much indifference by those residing in bokhara during the summer season, as colds are with us. one feels, at first, on the foot or on some other part of the body, a tickling sensation, then a spot becomes visible whence issues a worm like a thread. this is often an ell long, and it ought some days after to be carefully wound off on a reel. this is the common treatment, and occasions no extraordinary pain; but if the worm is broken off, an inflammation ensues, and instead of one, from six to ten make their appearance, which forces the patient to keep his bed a week, subjecting him to intense suffering. the more courageous have the rishte cut out at the very beginning. the barbers in bokhara are tolerably expert in this operation. the part where the tickling sensation takes place is in an instant removed, the worm extracted, and the wound itself soon heals. sometimes this malady, which is also common in bender abbasi (persia), recurs in the following summer, and that too, even when the patient is in a different climate. it happened so with dr. wolff, the well-known traveller, who dragged with him all the way from bokhara one of these long memorials of his journey. it did not show itself till he came to england, when it was extracted, in eastern fashion, { } by the late sir benjamin brodie. besides this affliction, the bokhariots exhibit many malignant sores, occasioned by their bad climate and still worse water. it is more especially remarked that the women, who would otherwise pass for not unattractive brunettes, are thus quite disfigured with scars, perhaps to be remotely referred to their sedentary habits. [water supply] bokhara derives its water from the zerefshan (distributor of gold), whose course is north-easterly. its channel is lower than the city itself, and even in summer affords but a scanty supply. the water flows through a canal, deep enough, but not maintained in a state of cleanliness. it is permitted to enter the city at the gate dervaze mezar once in intervals of from every eight to fourteen days, according as the height of the river may allow. the appearance of the water, tolerably dirty even when it first enters, is always a joyful occurrence for the inhabitants. then first the inhabitants, young and old, precipitate themselves into the canals and reservoirs to make their ablutions; afterwards the horses, cows, and asses come to take their baths; and when the dogs finally have cooled themselves there a little, all entrance is forbidden, the water is left to settle, become clear and pure. it has, it is true, absorbed thousands of elements of miasma and filthiness! such is the attention that bokhara, the noble, pays to this indispensable necessary of life--bokhara, whither flock thousands of scholars to learn the principles of a religion that consecrates the principle that 'cleanliness is derived from religion.' [footnote ] [footnote : 'el nezafet min el iman.'] { } [late and present emirs; harem, government, family of reigning emir.] it is impossible for me to forget bokhara, were it only on account of the efforts with respect to religion which i have noticed there both on the part of government and people. i often heard it affirmed that 'bokhara is the true support of islam.' [footnote ] the title is too weak; it should be rather termed the 'rome of islam,' since mecca and medina are its jerusalem. bokhara is aware of her superiority, and plumes herself upon it in the face of all the other nations of islam; yes, even before the sultan himself, who is yet acknowledged as the official chief of religion; but he is not so readily pardoned for having suffered so much to be corrupted in his territories by the influence of the frenghis. in my supposed character of osmanli, i was called upon to explain fully: [footnote : 'bokhara kuvveti islam ü din est.' ] first. why the sultan does not put to death all the frenghis who live in his dominions, and yet pay no djizie (tribute); why he does not every year undertake a djihad (religious war), as he has unbelievers on all his frontiers. secondly. why the osmanlis, who are sunnites, and belong to the sect of the ebuhanife, do not wear the turban, nor the long garments prescribed by the law and reaching to the ancles; why they have not a long beard and short moustachios, like 'the glory of all mundane creatures,' as the prophet is styled. thirdly, why the sunnites, both in constantinople and mecca, sing the ezan (call to prayer) when they utter it, which is a frightful sin; why they are not all hadjis there, as they dwell so nigh the holy places; &c. &c. i did my utmost to save the religious honour of the honest osmanlis, and if i was obliged occasionally to pronounce, with a blush on my cheek, the 'pater, { } peccavi,' i could not but internally felicitate the turks on retaining, in spite of their being under the influence of a corrupt islamism, many good qualities and fine traits of character, whereas their fellow-religionists, who boast that they are refreshing themselves at the very fountain of the pure faith, delight in nothing but the blackest mendacity, in hypocrisy, and in impositions. how often was i forced to witness one of the khalka (circle) which devotees form by squatting down close to each other in a ring, to devote themselves to the tevedjüh (contemplation), or, as the western mahomedans call it, the murakebe of the greatness of god, the glory of the prophet, and the futility of our mortal existence! if you, a stranger, behold these people, with their immense turbans, and their arms hanging down folded upon their laps, sitting in their cramped position, you could not help believing them to be beings of a purer, loftier nature, who seek to cast from them the burden of clay, and adopt the full spirit of the arabian saying-- 'the world is an abomination, and those who toil about it are dogs.' [footnote ] [footnote : 'ed dünya djifetun ve talibeha kilab.'] look only more attentively, and you will not fail to perceive that many have, from deep reflection, fallen into deeper slumber; and although they begin to snore, like hounds after a hard day's hunting, beware how you breathe any reproach, or the bokhariot will soon set you right with the observation, 'these men have made such progress, that even whilst they snore they are thinking of god and of immortality!' in bokhara only the external form of the thing is required. { } each city has its reïs, [footnote ] who, with a cat-o'-four-tails in his hand, traverses the streets and public places, examines each passer by in the principles of islamism, and sends the ignorant, even if they be grey-bearded men of threescore years, for periods varying from eight to fourteen days, to the boys' school; or he drives them into the mosques at the hour of prayer. but whether, in the former case, they learn anything in school, or go to sleep there--whether, in the latter, they pray in the mosque, or are thinking how their daily occupations have been cut short,--all this is the affair of nobody whatever. the government insists upon nothing but the external appearance; what lies within is known to god alone. [footnote : guardian of religion.] what need to insist that the spirit in which religion is administered has a powerful influence upon both government and society? the iranian blood of the inhabitants (for two-thirds of the inhabitants of the city of bokhara are persians, mervi, and tadjiks), gives a little semblance of vitality to the bazaars and public places; but what dreariness and monotony in the private houses! every trace of gladness and cheerfulness is banished from those circles where the influence of religion and the system of surveillance are so tyrannically felt. the emir's spies force their way even into the sanctuaries of families, and woe to the man who permits himself to offend against the forms of religion or the authority of the sovereign. ages of oppression have now so intimidated the people that husband and wife, even with no third person present, do not dare to pronounce the emir's name without adding the words, 'god grant him to live years!' it must be also admitted that the poor people feel no sentiment of hatred for their ruler, because tyrannical caprice does not seem to them as a { } thing to be wondered at, but is rather looked upon in the light of an inevitable attribute of princely dignity. emir nasr ullah, the father of the present ruler of bokhara, was, in the last years of his life, a cruel profligate, who visited with capital punishment immorality in others, and yet himself violated, in the most shameless manner, the honour of his subjects. few were the families who escaped unscathed; and still no one permitted even a breath of blame to escape his lips. the reigning emir, mozaffar-ed-din khan, happily, is a well-disposed man; and although he enforces with severity the laws respecting religion and morals, he cannot be charged himself with any crime; hence the unceasing praises and glorifications of which he is the object on the part of his people. i saw the emir afterwards in samarcand; he is in the forty-second year of his age, of middle stature, somewhat corpulent. he has a very pleasing countenance, fine black eyes, and a thin beard. in his youth he acted as governor one year in karshi, and eighteen in kermineh, and was always distinguished for the gentleness and affability of his manners. he carries out strictly the political principles of his father, and in his capacity as mollah and pious musselman is the declared enemy of every innovation even when he may be convinced of its utility. on his accession he had impressed upon his signet the device 'government by justice,' [footnote ] and up to the present moment has most scrupulously observed it. many reports in circulation respecting him confirm the remark. true, according to our view of things, there seems great exaggeration in { } a system of justice which led the emir to send his mehter, the second in rank of his officers, to execution, for having (for it was in this form that the report reached khokand) thrown a dubious glance at one of the royal slaves; nor should a prince, whose device is 'justice,' have conducted himself as the emir did in khokand. but all these faults are very pardonable in a khan of bokhara. towards his grandees, who for the most part well merit the treatment they meet with, he is very severe, for although punishing with death even trivial offences in these, he spares the poorer classes. hence the expression applied to him by the people, and which does him honour, for they say of him that he is 'killer of elephants and protector of mice.' [footnote ] [footnote : 'el hükm bil adl.'] [footnote : filkush and mushperver.] it is singular what pains the emir takes to throw obstacles in the way of his subjects whenever they seek to depart from the simplicity and modesty of their present, in his opinion, happy condition. the introduction of articles of luxury, or other expensive merchandise, is forbidden, as also the employment of sumptuousness in house or dress: in offences of this description there is no respect of persons. his serdari kul (commandant-in-chief), shahrukh khan, sprung from a collateral branch of the royal family of persia (kadjar), having fled hither from astrabad, where he had been governor, had been long held here in high honour and distinction; but, desirous of living in the persian manner, he ordered, at great expense, a house to be erected one story high, like those in teheran; in this, besides other articles of luxury, glass windows were inserted; it is said to have cost altogether , tilla, regarded { } in bokhara an enormous sum; it was of a description calculated to throw into the shade even the ark (palace) itself. the emir had been informed of this from the very beginning, but he waited until the whole was quite finished, and then suddenly shahrukh khan was accused of an offence against religion, thrown into confinement, and then exiled. the house was confiscated and reverted to the emir: an offer was made to purchase it, and at a sum exceeding the cost price, but no! he directed it to be demolished; the ruins themselves, however, appearing too ornamental, he ordered them to be entirely destroyed, with the sole reservation of the timber, which was sold to a baker for tilla, in scorn and mockery of all who should venture to give way to a taste for luxuries. even in his domestic arrangements the emir is widely different from his father; and it did not appear to me that there could have been more than half the retinue of servants which m. de khanikoff saw at the court of nasr ullah, and of which, as of so many other particulars concerning bokhara, the russian traveller gives so careful, so exact and circumstantial an account. mozaffar-ed-din khan has (for it is a custom of his religion) four legitimate wives and about twenty others, the former natives of bokhara, the latter slaves, and, as i was told seriously, only employed to tend upon the children, of whom there are sixteen, ten girls (but i beg pardon, princesses), and six boys (tore). the two eldest princesses are married to the governors of serepool and aktche; only, as these two cities have fallen into the hands of the afghan, his two sons-in-law live as the emir's guests, like kings _sans portefeuilles_. the harem is presided over by the sovereign's mother, formerly a { } persian slave (born at kademgihah, near meshed), and by his grandmother, hakim ayim. it bears a high character for chastity and orderly training. it is forbidden to the laity on pain of death to enter, or even to throw a glance or direct a thought thither: this is permitted alone to pious sheikhs or mollahs, whose nefes (breath) is of notorious sanctity; and it was by this title that our friend hadji salih was summoned to administer a dose of the khaki shifa (health powder from medina). the cost of the harem, as far as dress, board, and other necessaries are concerned, is very small. the ladies make not only their own clothes, but often even the garments of the emir, who is known to be a strict economist, and to exercise severe control over everything. the daily kitchen expenses of the palace are said to be from sixteen to twenty tenghe (rather more than from nine to ten shillings), which is very likely, as his table rarely offers any confectionery, and consists merely of pilow boiled with mutton fat. the expression 'princely table' is inapplicable to bokhara, where one and the same dish satisfies prince, official, merchant, mechanic, and peasant. the man that has wandered about through the deserts of central asia will still find in bokhara, in spite of all its wretchedness, something of the nature of a metropolis. my fare now consisted of good bread, tea, fruit, and boiled meats. i had two shirts made, and the comforts of civilised life became to me so agreeable that i was really sorry when i received notice from my friends to prepare for the journey, as they wished to gain their remote eastern homes before the winter set in. my intention was to keep them company provisionally as far as samarcand, { } as i somewhat dreaded my interview with the emir, and their society in many respects would be of great service to me. i was to decide in the last-named city whether to proceed to khokand and kashgar, or to return alone by kerki, karshi, and herat. my excellent friends, hadji bilal and hadji salih, did not wish to influence me, but to provide for the case of a possible return. desirous as far as they could to aid me, they had introduced me to a kervanbashi from herat, who was staying in bokhara, and thought of finally returning in three weeks to the former city. his name was mollah zeman: he had been formerly known to my friends. they recommended me to his care, as if i had been their own brother, and it was determined, if i returned from samarcand, that we should meet three weeks afterwards in kerki, on the farther bank of the oxus. this, the first step suggestive of a final separation, was very affecting to us all. hitherto i had found consolation in the very uncertainty of my purpose; for to my fancy an extension of my travels to kashgar, aksu, and khoten, rich in musk--countries to which no european before me had penetrated--had infinite charm and poetical attraction. [slave depot and trade] but my thoughts have been so engaged by the memory of this visit to mollah zeman, that i was about to forget to describe the spot where i found him. it was in a karavanserai appropriated to the trade in slaves. of this i cannot forbear to give the reader a slight sketch. the building, which formed a square, contained, it may be, from thirty to thirty-five cells. three wholesale dealers in this abominable traffic had hired these buildings as a depôt for the poor wretches, who were partly their own goods and { } chattels, and partly entrusted to them as commission brokers for the turkomans. as is well known, the karaktchi, unable to wait long, are accustomed to sell their slaves to some turkoman who has more means at his disposal. the latter brings them to bokhara, and is the chief gainer by these transactions, as he buys immediately from the producer. in the very first days of his arrival in the capital, he sells all those for whom he can find customers; the remainder he leaves behind him in the hands of the dellal (broker), who is more especially the wholesale dealer. human beings are sold in bokhara and khiva from the age of three to that of sixty, unless they possess such defects as cause them to be regarded as cripples. according to the precepts of their religion, unbelievers alone can be sold as slaves; but bokhara, that has nothing more than the semblance of sanctity, evades without scruple such provisions, and makes slaves not only of the shiite persians, who were declared 'unbelievers' so long ago as by the mollah schemseddin, but also many professors of the sunnite tenets themselves, after they have, by blows and maltreatment, been compelled to style themselves shiites. it is only the jew, whom they pronounce to be incapable, that is unworthy of becoming a slave, a mode of showing their aversion, of course, anything but disagreeable to the children of israel, for although the turkoman will make booty of his property, and strip him of everything, he will not touch his body. at an earlier period, the hindoos also formed an exception. more recently, as they flocked by herat into bokhara, the tekke or sarik began to lay down new rules for their procedure. the unfortunate worshipper of vishnoo is now first metamorphosed { } into a musselman, then made a shiite; and not until this double conversion has taken place is the honour conferred upon him of being plundered of all his property, and being reduced to the condition of a slave. the slave exposed to sale is, when a male, made the subject of public examination: the seller is obliged to guarantee that he has none of those moral or bodily defects, which constitute to his knowledge latent unsoundness: that is to say, where, though they are not discernible to the eye, they exist in a rudimentary state. to the slave himself, the happiest hour is when he passes out of the hand of the slave-dealer; for no treatment, however hard, which awaits him with his eventual master can be so oppressive and painful as that which he has to pass through whilst he remains an article of commerce exposed for sale in the shop. the price varies with the political circumstances of the turkomans, according as they find (for upon such does the production of the article depend) greater or less facility for their alaman in the adjoining district. for instance: at the present day the highest price of a man in the maturity of his strength is from to tilla (about from £ -£ ); after a victory, when , persian soldiers had been made prisoners at one time, a man was to be had for a sum of or tillas. [departure from bokhara, and visit to the tomb of baha-ed-din.] after having stayed twenty-two days in bokhara i found it impossible any longer to delay my friends, and it was arranged that we should at once start for samarcand. our living in bokhara, as no one here, however liberal with his shakings of the hand, gave us a single farthing, had very much impaired our { } finances. what we had been able to make in khiva was all exhausted, and, like many of my companions, i had been forced to dispose of my ass, and henceforth our journey was to be continued in a hired two-wheeled cart. particular members of our karavan, who belonged to khokand or khodjend, had already parted from us, and gone their own several ways alone. those who had hitherto remained together were natives of endighan or chinese tartars. these, however, in proceeding to samarcand, selected different routes. hadji salih, hadji bilal's party, and myself determined upon following the straight road; the others, who were on foot, were anxious to undertake a pilgrimage, by way of gidjdovan, to the tomb of the saint abdul khalik. [footnote ] [footnote : khodja abdul khalik (named gidjovani, died ) was contemporary with the famous payende zamini, and stands in high repute for learning, asceticism, and sanctity.] many bokhariots, on my return, intimated a wish to accompany me to mecca. i, therefore, was obliged to employ much delicate diplomacy, for certainly their company would have been a source of great embarrassment in either case, whether we found ourselves before the kaaba or on the banks of the thames! i took leave of all my friends and acquaintances. rahmet bi gave me letters of introduction for samarcand, and i promised to wait upon the emir there. the khokand vehicle, which we had hired to convey us as far as samarcand, had been previously sent on to wait for us at the village baveddin, to which place of pilgrimage we had now, according to the custom of the country, to pay our second visit--our visit of adieu. this village is distant two leagues from bokhara, and is, as before said, the place of { } interment of the renowned baha-ed-din nakishbend, founder of the order bearing the same name, and the chief fountain of all those extravagances of religion which distinguish eastern from western islamism. without entering into more details, suffice it to mention, that baha-ed-din is venerated as the national saint of turkestan, as a second mohammed; and the bokhariot is firmly persuaded that the cry alone of a 'baha-ed-din belagerdan' [footnote ] is sufficient to save from all misfortune. pilgrimages are made to this place even from the most remote parts of china. it is the practice in bokhara to come hither every week, and the intercourse is maintained with the metropolis by means of about asses that ply for hire. these stand before the dervaze mezar, and may be had for a few pul (small copper coins). although the road, in many places, passes over deep sand, these animals run with indescribable speed on their journey to the village; but, what is considered very surprising, they cannot, without repeated blows, be induced to return. the bokhariot ascribes this circumstance to the feeling of devotion that the saint inspires even in brutes; for do they not run to his tomb, and evince the greatest indisposition to quit it? [footnote : 'o baha-ed-din, thou avevter of evil!'] the tomb is in a small garden. on one side is a mosque. this may be approached through a court filled with blind or crippled mendicants, the perseverance of whose applications would put to shame those of the same profession in rome or naples. in the front of the tomb is the famous senghi murad (stone of desire), which has been tolerably ground away and made smooth by the numerous foreheads of pious pilgrims that have been rubbed upon it. over { } the tomb are placed several rams' horns and a banner, also a broom that served a long time to sweep out the sanctuary in mecca. attempts have also been made upon several occasions to cover the whole with a dome, but baha-ed-din, like many other saints in turkestan, has a preference for the open air, and every edifice has been thrown down after a lapse of three days from its first erection. such is the tale told by the sheikhs, descendants of the saint, who keep watch in turn before the tomb, and recount, with impudence enough, to the pilgrims that their ancestor was particularly fond of the number seven. in the seventh month he came into the world, in his seventh year he knew the koran by heart, and in his seventieth he died. hence also the contributions and gifts laid upon his grave are to have the peculiarity that they must not be anything else than multiples of seven or the number seven itself. a quarter of a league from the tomb of baha-ed-din, in an open field, is that of miri kulah, the master and spiritual chief of the former. but the master is far from enjoying the same honour and repute as the disciple. { } chapter xi. bokhara to samarcand little desert of chÖl melik animation of road owing to war first view of samarcand haszreti shah zinde mosque of timour citadel (ark) reception hall of timor kÖktash or timour's throne singular footstool timour's sepulcher and that of his preceptor author visits the actual tomb of timour in the souterrain folio koran ascribed to osman, mohammed's secretary colleges ancient observatory greek armenian library not, as pretended, carried off by timor architecture of public buildings not chinese but persian modern samarcand its population dehbid author decides to return arrival of emir author's interview with him parting from the hadjis, and departure from samarcand. _hinc quarto die ad maracanda perventum est . . . scythiae confinis est regio, habitaturque pluribus ac frequentibits vicis, quia ubertas terra non indigenas modo detinet, sed etiam advenas invitat_.--q. curtii rufi libb. vii. et viii. [bokhara to samarcand] our whole karavan had now, on starting from bokhara for samarcand, dwindled down to two carts. in one of these sat hadji salih and myself; in the other, hadji bilal and his party. sheltered from the sun by a matting awning, i should have been glad to settle myself quietly on my carpet, but this was impossible, owing to the violent motion of our very primitive vehicle; it disposed of us 'at its own sweet will,' shaking us, now here, now there; our heads were continually cannoning each other like balls { } on a billiard table. during the first few hours i felt quite sea-sick, having suffered much more than i had done when on the camels, the shiplike movements of which i had formerly so much dreaded. the poor horse, harnessed to the broad heavy cart, besides having to make the clumsy wheels--far from perfect circles--revolve laboriously through the deep sand or mud, was obliged also to convey the driver and his provision sack. the turkoman is right in doubting whether the bokhariot will ever be able to justify in another world his maltreatment of the horse--the noblest of the brute creation. as it was night when we started from baha-ed-din, the driver (a native of khokand), not sufficiently familiar with the road, mistook the way, so that, instead of midnight, it was morning before we reached the little town of mezar. it is distant from bokhara five tash (fersakh), and is regarded as the first station on the road to samarcand. we halted here but a short time, and about noon arrived at sheikh kasim, where we encountered some of our brother pilgrims. they were taking the road by gidjdovan. we consequently indulged ourselves by remaining there quietly together until late at night. [little desert of chöl melik] i had heard many wonderful accounts of the flourishing cultivation of the country between bokhara and samarcand, but thus far i had seen nothing astonishing during our day's journey, nothing at all corresponding to my high-wrought expectations. we perceived, indeed, everywhere, and on both sides of the road, with rare exceptions, the land under cultivation; the following day, however, a real surprise awaited me. we had passed the little desert of chöl melik (six leagues in length by four in { } breadth), where there are a karavanserai and water reservoir, and at last reached the district of kermineh, which constitutes the third day's station. we now passed every hour, sometimes every half-hour, a small bazarli djay (market-place), where there were several inns and houses for the sale of provisions, and where gigantic russian teakettles, ever on the boil, are held to be the _ne plus ultra_ of refinement and of comfort. these villages have quite a different character from those in persia and turkey, the farm-yards are better filled with earth's blessings; and were there only more trees, we might say that all the way from the pontos mountains this is the only country resembling our own in the far west. about mid-day we halted at kermineh, in a lovely garden, on the side of a reservoir, where we found abundant shade. my friends seemed to endear themselves to me more and more the nearer the moment of our separation approached; it appeared impossible that i was to journey alone that long way back from samarcand to europe! we started from kermineh about sunset, considering that the freshness of the night would lighten, in some respects, the torments of our overtasked horse; at midnight we halted again for two hours, as we hoped to reach our station the next morning, before the heat of the day commenced. i remarked in many places along the road square mile-stones, some entire, others broken, [footnote ] which owe their erection to timour; nor need this surprise us, for marco polo, in the time of oktai, found regular post-roads in central asia. the whole way from bokhara to kashgar is said, indeed, { } still to bear marks of an ancient civilisation which, although with frequent intervals, is nevertheless traceable far into china. the present emir, also wishing to distinguish himself, has caused in several places small terraces to be raised for purposes of prayer, these serving as a sort of occasional mosques, and mementos to passers-by to fulfil their religious duties. so each age has its own peculiar objects in view! [footnote : the turkish word for stone is tash, which is also used to denote mile. so the persian word fersang (in modern persian fersakh) is compounded of fer (high) and seng (stone).] [animation of road owing to war] the evening we passed at the village mir, taking up our quarters there in the mosque. this rises from the centre of a pretty flower garden. i lay down to sleep near a reservoir, but was startled out of my slumber by a troop of quarrelsome turkomans. they were the tekke horsemen who had served the emir as auxiliaries in his campaign against khokand, and were now returning to merv with the booty they had taken from the kirghis. the emir, in his anxiety to civilise them, had presented many with a white turban, and hoped that they would throw aside altogether their wild fur caps. they wore them as long as they were under the eye of the emir, but i heard that they had subsequently sold them all. from mir we proceeded to the kette kurgan ('great fortress'). it is the seat of a government, and has the most famous shoemakers in the whole khanat. this fortress is defended by a strong wall and deep fosse. by night no one is permitted either to pass in or out; we therefore remained in a karavanserai, on the road outside the fort. there were wagons everywhere; the roads, indeed, in all directions presented a bustling and singularly animated appearance: this was to be ascribed to the war, that employs all conveyances between bokhara and khokand, from kette kurgan a distinct way leads through the desert { } to karshi, and is said to be four leagues shorter than the usual one thither from samarcand; but travellers are obliged to take their water with them, as there are very few wells that human beings can use, although there are several fit for cattle. i found the drivers and peasants discussing political subjects before the tea-shops, the prohibitions here not being enforced as in bokhara. the poor people are enchanted when they hear of the heroic acts of their emir; they recount that he has already forced his way from khokand into china, and after he has there in the east reduced all under his sceptre, he will, they insist, proceed to take possession of iran, afghanistan, india, and frenghistan (these they consider as adjoining counties), as far as roum: the whole world, in fact, is, according to them, to be divided between the sultan and the emir! after having left behind me karasu, which is a place of some importance, we reached daul, the fifth station, and the last before coming to samarcand itself. our road passed over some hills from which we could perceive extensive woods stretching away on our left. i was told that they reach half-way to bokhara, and serve as retreats to the Özbeg tribes, khitai and kiptchak, which are often at enmity with the emir. being familiar with all the secret corners and recesses of their own forests, they are not easily assailable. [first view of samarcand] what i heard in bokhara had very much diminished in my eyes the historical importance of samarcand. i cannot, however, describe my feeling of curiosity when they pointed out to me, on the east, mount chobanata, at whose foot was situate, i was told, the mecca i so longed to see. i therefore gazed intently in the direction indicated, and at last, on toiling up { } a hill, i beheld the city of timour in the middle of a fine country. i must confess that the first impression produced by the domes and minarets, with their various colours, all bathed in the beams of the morning sun--the peculiarity, in short, of the whole scene--was very pleasing. as samarcand, both by the charm of its past and its remoteness, is regarded in europe as something extraordinary, we will, as we cannot make use of the pencil, endeavour to draw a view of the city with the pen. i must beg the reader to take a seat in the cart by my side; he will then see to the east the mountain i before mentioned. its dome-like summit is crowned by a small edifice, in which rests chobanata (the holy patron of shepherds). below lies the city. although it equals teheran in circumference, its houses do not lie so close together; still the prominent buildings and ruins offer a far more magnificent prospect. the eye is most struck by four lofty edifices, in the form of half domes, the fore-fronts or frontispieces of the medresse (pishtak). they seemed all to be near together; but some, in fact, are in the background. as we advance we perceive first a small neat dome, and further on to the south a larger and more imposing one; the former is the tomb, the latter the mosque, of timour. quite facing us, on the south-westerly limit of the city, on a hill, rises the citadel (ark), round which other buildings, partly mosques and partly tombs, are grouped. if we then suppose the whole intermixed with closely planted gardens, we shall have a faint idea of samarcand--a faint one; for i say with the persian proverb-- 'when will hearing be like seeing?' [footnote ] [footnote : 'shuniden keï buved manendi diden.'] { } but, alas! why need i add that the impression produced by its exterior was weakened as we approached, and entirely dissipated by our entry into the place itself? bitter indeed the disappointment in the case of a city like samarcand, so difficult of access, and a knowledge of which has to be so dearly acquired; and when we drove in through the dervaze bokhara, and had to pass through the greater part of the cemetery to reach the inhabited part of the town, i thought of the persian verse-- 'samarcand is the focus of the whole globe.' [footnote ] [footnote : 'samarkand seïkeli rui zemin est.' ] in spite of all my enthusiasm, i burst out into a loud fit of laughter. we first proceeded to a karavanserai, on the side of the bazaar, where hadjis have quarters awarded to them gratuitously; but the very same evening we were invited to a private house situate beyond the bazaar, near the tomb of timour, and what was my joy and surprise when i learnt that our host fortunately was an officer of the emir, and entrusted with the surveillance of the palace in samarcand! as the return of the emir from khokand, where he had just terminated a victorious campaign, was announced to take place in a few days, my companions decided to wait in samarcand, on my account, till i had seen the emir, and until i found other hadjis passing whose company i could join on my return journey. in the interval i passed my time visiting all that was worth seeing in the city; for in spite of its miserable appearance, it is in this respect the richest in all central asia. { } in my character as hadji i naturally began with the saints; but as all, even what is historically interesting, is intimately blended with some holy legend, i felt it a very agreeable duty to see everything. [haszreti shah zinde] they enumerate here several hundred places of pilgrimage; but we will only particularise the more remarkable:-- _hazreti shah zinde (summer palace of timour)_. the proper name is kasim bin abbas. he is said to have been a koreïshite, and consequently stands here in the highest repute, as the chief of those arabs who introduced islamism into samarcand. his sepulchre lies without the city, to the north-west, near the wall and the edifice that served the great timour as a summer residence. the latter has retained even to the present day much of its ancient splendour and luxury. all these structures are situate upon elevated ground, and are approached by an ascent of forty tolerably broad marble steps. on reaching the summit, one is conducted to a building lying at the end of a small garden. here several little corridors lead to a large apartment, from which, by a small gloomy path, you arrive at the equally gloomy tomb of the saint. besides the room above mentioned, there are others whose coloured bricks and mosaic pavement produce as brilliant an effect as if they were the work of yesterday. each different room that we entered had to be saluted with two rikaat namaz. my knees began to ache, when they led me on into a room paved with marble. three flags, an old sword, and breastplate, were presented to be kissed as relics of the renowned { } emir. this act of homage i did not decline any more than my companions, although i entertained great doubt whether the objects themselves are authentic. i heard also of a sword, breastplate, koran, and other relics of the saint, but i could not get sight of them. opposite to this edifice, the reigning emir has erected a small medresse, which looks like the stable of a palace. [mosque of timour] _mesdjidi timour (the mosque of timour)._ this mosque is situate on the south side of the city: in size, and painted brick decorations, it has much resemblance to the mesdjidi shah, in ispahan, which was built by order of abbas ii. the dome differs, however; it is in the form of a melon, which is never the case in persia. the inscriptions from the koran, in gold sulus lettering, next to those at the ruins of sultanieh, are the finest i ever saw. [citadel (ark)] _ark (citadel--reception hall of timour)_. the ascent to the ark is tolerably steep; it is divided into two parts, of which the outer is composed of private dwellings, whereas the other is only used for the reception of the emir. [reception hall of timour; köktash or timour's throne singular footstool.] the palace had been described to me as extremely curious; it is, however, a very ordinary edifice, and is scarcely a century old, and i confess i found nothing remarkable in it. first they showed me the apartments of the emir: amongst these the aynekhane, which is a room composed of fragments of looking-glass, passing for a wonder of the world; but to me it had far less interest than the place designated talari timour, or 'reception-hall of timour.' this is a { } long narrow court, having round it a covered foot-pavement or cloister. the side that fronts you contains the celebrated köktash (green stone), upon which timour caused his throne to be placed: to it flocked vassals from all parts of the world to do homage, and were ranged there according to their rank; whilst in the central space, that resembled an arena, three heralds sat ready mounted to convey, on the instant, the words of the conqueror of the world to the farthest end of the hall. as the green stone is four feet and a half high, some prisoner of illustrious birth was always forced to serve as a footstool. it is singular that, according to the tradition, this colossal stone (ten feet long, four broad, and four and a half high) was transported hither from broussa. fixed in the wall to the right of this stone is a prominent oval piece of iron, like half a cocoa-nut; upon it there is an inscription in arabic, engraved in kufish letters. it is said to have been brought from the treasury of the sultan, bayazid yildirin, and to have served one of the khalifs as an amulet. i saw, high above the stone on the wall, two firmans, written in golden divani letters, one from sultan mahmoud, the other from sultan abdul medjid. they were sent to emir saïd, and emir nasrullah, from constantinople, and contained both the rukhsati-namaz (official permission for the prayer), [footnote ] and the investiture in the functions of a reïs (guardian of religion) which the emirs formerly made it a point of etiquette to receive. the emirs, now-a-days, content themselves on their accession with doing homage at the köktash; and the stone is no longer used but for this purpose, and as a { } place of pilgrimage for pious hadjis who say three fatihas, and rub their heads with peculiar unction upon that monument whence, once, every word uttered by their glorious monarch echoed as a command to the remotest parts of asia. timour is spoken of in samarcand as if the news of his death had only just arrived from otrar; and the question was put to me, as osmanli, what my feelings were on approaching the tomb of a sovereign who had inflicted upon 'our' sultan so terrible a defeat. [footnote : the friday prayer, which no sunnite could or can pronounce until the khalif or his successor has first done so.] [timour's sepulchre and that of his preceptor; author visits the actual tomb of timour in the souterrain] _turbeti timour (timour's sepulchre)_. this monument lies to the south-west, and consists of a neat chapel, crowned with a splendid dome, and encircled by a wall; in the latter there is a high arched gate, and on both sides are two small domes, miniature representations of the large one first mentioned. the space between the wall and the chapel is filled with trees, and should represent a garden, but great neglect is now apparent there. the entrance into the chapel is on the west, and its front, according to the law, is towards the south (kible). on entering, one finds oneself in a sort of vestibule, which leads directly into the chapel itself. this is octagonal, and ten short paces in diameter. in the middle, under the dome, that is to say, in the place of honour, there are two tombs, placed lengthwise, with the head in the direction of mecca. one is covered with a very fine stone of a dark green colour, two and a half spans broad and ten long, and about the thickness of six fingers. it is laid flat, in two pieces, [footnote ] over the grave of timour; the other has a { } black stone, of about the same length, but somewhat broader. this is the tomb of mir seid berke, the teacher and spiritual chief of timour, at whose side the mighty emir gratefully desired to be buried. round about lie other tombstones, great and small, those of wives, grandsons, and great grandsons of the emir; but, if i do not err, their bodies were brought thither at a subsequent period from different parts of the city. the inscriptions upon the tombs are in persian and arabic, no enumeration of titles is there, and even that of the emir is very simple. the family name, köreghen, is never omitted. [footnote : different reasons are assigned for this. some say that the victorious nadir shah ordered it to be sent to him, and that it was broken on the journey. others affirm that it was originally in two pieces, and the present of a chinese (mongol) princess.] [folio koran ascribed to osman, mohammed's secretary] as for the interior of the chapel, arabesques in alabaster, whose gildings are in rich contrast with a lovely azure, bear evidence of taste truly artistic, and produce an effect surprisingly beautiful. it reminds us, but can give only a faint idea, of the inside of the sepulchre of meesume fatma in kom (persia). [footnote ] whilst the latter is too much filled, the former is simply and modestly beautiful. at the head of the graves are two rahle (table with two leaves, upon which, in the east, are laid sacred volumes), where the mollahs day and night read in turn the koran, and contrive to extract from the vakf (pious foundation) of the turbe a good salary. they, as well as the mutevali (stewards), are taken from the nogai tartars, because the emir expressed in his will the { } desire that the watch over him should be entrusted to this race, which had always been particularly well disposed towards him. i paid my visit to the inspector, and was forced to remain his guest the whole day. as a mark of his peculiar favour he permitted me to view the actual grave, an honour which, he assured me, was rarely accorded even to natives. we descended by a small long staircase behind the entrance. it leads directly into a room below the chapel, not only of the same size, but resembling it closely in all its arabesque decorations. the tombs here are also in the same order as those above, but not so numerous. it is said that timour's grave contains great treasures; but this cannot be true, as it would be an infraction of the law. here again is a rahle, with a koran lying upon it in folio, written upon the skin of a gazelle. i was informed in many quarters, and upon good authority, that this was the same copy that osman, mohammed's secretary, and the second khalif, wrote, and that this relic timour had brought with him out of the treasury of the sultan bajazet, from broussa, and that it is here concealed as a precious deposit, inasmuch as bokhara, if publicly known to possess it, would be certainly regarded with ill-will by the other musselman potentates. [footnote : a sister of the imam riza, who after having long implored, at last obtained, permission from meemun khalife to visit her brother who was living as an exile in tus (meshed). on the journey thither she died at kom, and her tomb is a highly venerated place of pilgrimage in persia.] on the front of the turbe, in the very place to strike the eyes of all, we read the inscription, written in white letters upon a blue ground:-- [illustration: arabic text] 'this is the work of poor abdullah, the son of mahmoud of ispahan.' i could not ascertain the date. about a hundred paces from the building { } which i have described, is another dome of simple architecture, but considerable antiquity, where reposes one of timour's favourite wives, also venerated as a saint. quite above, on the side of the dome, hangs a sort of skein, said to contain muy seadet (hair from the beard of the prophet), and which has for many long years--although the dome has crevices in all its sides--protected it from further decay, _s'il vous plait._ [colleges; ancient observatory] _medresses_. some of those are still peopled; others abandoned, and likely soon to become perfect ruins. to those in the best state of repair belong the medresse shirudar and tillakari; but these were built long subsequently to the time of timour. the one last named, which is very rich in decorations of gold, whence its name, tillakari (worked in gold), was built ( ), by a rich kalmuk named yelenktosh, who was a convert to islamism; and really that portion called khanka, is so rich that it is only surpassed by the interior of the mosque of iman riza. opposite to these we see the medresse mirza ulug, built in ( ) by timour, grandson of the same name who was passionately fond of astrology; but which even in ( ) were in so ruinous a condition that, to borrow the expression employed by its historian, 'owls housed, instead of students, in its cells, and the doors were hung with spiders' webs instead of silk curtains.' in this building stood the observatory famous throughout the world, which was commenced in ( ), under the direction of the _savants_ gayas-ed-dir djemshid, muayin kashani, and of the learned israelite silah-ed-din bagdadi, but was { } completed under ali kushtchi. this was the second and last observatory erected in central asia. the first had been constructed at maraga, under helagu, by the learned nedjm-ed-din. the place where it had stood was pointed out to me, but i could only discern a slight trace. these three medresse form the principal open space, the righistan of samarcand; which is smaller, indeed, than the righistan at bokhara, but still filled with booths and ever frequented with buzzing crowds. at a distance from those, and near the dervaze bokhara, are the extensive ruins of the once really magnificent medresse hanym, which a chinese princess, wife of timour, erected out of her private purse. it is said at one time to have accommodated a thousand students, each of whom received from the vakf (foundation) the annual sum of a hundred tilla. the sum may be regarded as an oriental one; an evidence, nevertheless, of bygone splendour appears in its ruins, of which three walls and the fore-front or frontispiece (pishtak) still exist; the latter with its towers and portal, that might serve for a model, has its pavement completely covered with mosaic made of earth, the composition and colouring of which are of incomparable beauty, and so firmly cemented that it occasioned me indescribable trouble to cut away the calyx of a flower; and even of this i could only remove in a perfect state the innermost part, with three leaves folded together. although the work of destruction is eagerly proceeded with, we can still perceive in the interior where at present the hired carriages that ply to khokand and karshi take up their quarters--the mosque, with the wonder-working gigantic rahle; and many a century must the people of samarcand { } continue to tear away and cut down before this work of annihilation is complete. [greek armenian library not, as pretended, carried off by timour.] besides these edifices, there are some other towers and dome-shaped buildings, the work of bygone days. after having made every possible investigation, in spite of all exertions, i have not been able to discover any trace of that once famous armenian greek library, which, according to a universally accredited tradition, the victorious timour swept away to samarcand to ornament his capital. this fable, so i must at once pronounce it, originated from the over-strained patriotism of an armenian priest, named hadjator, who insists that he came from caboul to samarcand, and discovered in the latter city large folios with heavy chains (_à la_ faust) in those towers, into which no musselman, from fear of djins (genii), would dare to venture. the story was later, if i mistake not, made use of by a french _savant_, in his 'history of the armenians;' and as we europeans are just as fond as the orientals of amusing ourselves with subjects that lie half in light and half in darkness, it was actually believed by some (that is, by those who busied themselves with antiquities) that the mighty asiatic conqueror had sent back to his capital, a distance of a hundred stations, some hundred mules laden with armenian greek manuscripts, in order that his tartars might also familiarise themselves with foreign languages and history! [architecture of public buildings not chinese but persian; modern samarcand; its population] i disbelieve altogether the story that any such library ever existed; my opinion is as strong also upon another subject, for i entirely differ from those who ascribe a chinese character to the monuments of samarcand. the political frontiers of china are, it is true, at a distance of only ten days' journey, but china proper can { } only be reached in sixty days, and those who have even a faint idea of the rigorous line of demarcation that guards the celestial empire, will not very easily believe that the chinese can have any idea in common with the genuine mahommedans, who are also themselves separatists. the inscription upon the façade of the sepulchre of timour, to which all the other edifices in samarcand have more or less resemblance in point of style and decoration, shows clearly enough that the artists were persians, and one needs only to compare the monuments of this city with those of herat, meshed, and ispahan, to be convinced that the architecture is persian. so much of the ancient and historical city of samarcand. the new city, whose actual walls are at the distance of a full league from the ruins of the old walls, [footnote ] has six gates and a few bazaars that have still survived from the ancient times; in these are offered at low prices, manufactures in leather of high repute, and wooden saddles, the enamel of which might even do honour to european artisans. during my stay in the city of timour the bazaars and other public places and streets were continually thronged, because every spot was occupied by the troops returning from their campaign; still the regular residents can hardly exceed from , to , , of whom two-thirds are Özbegs, and one-third tadjiks. the emir, whose usual residence is bokhara, { } is in the habit of passing two or three of the summer months in samarcand, because the situation is more elevated, and the city has certain advantages of climate. in bokhara the heat is insupportable, but i found the temperature here very agreeable; only the water recommended as abi-hayat (ambrosia) tasted to me very detestable. [footnote : it is possible that the ruins only mark the boundary of a suburb, for e. g. de clavijo, who in formed part of an embassy at the court of timour, informs us (see the translation of that account by c. e. markham, page ), that the citadel lies at one end of the town, where in fact it still is. the space between the ruins and the modern wall may have been inhabited and yet not have belonged to the city.] [dehbid] i may mention dehbid (the ten willows) as singularly beautiful; it forms at once a place of pilgrimage and of recreation, a league distant from samarcand, on the other side of the zerefshan, and peopled by the descendants of mahkdum aázam, who died in ( ), and is here interred. the inhabitants have a fine khanka (convent), and receive pilgrims with the greatest hospitality. dehbid lies actually higher than samarcand; still, to my surprise, i met here with mulberries in the middle of the month of august. i found it cool even at mid-day in the great 'alley,' which was planted in , by order of nezr divabeghi, in honour of the saint above mentioned. on the road to dehbid, i was shown the spot where stood the famous baghi-chinaran (poplar garden). ruins only now mark the site of the palace; of the trees nothing is visible. although we cannot go so far as the inhabitant of central asia--who applies to these ruins, even at the present day, the expression, 'samarcand resembles paradise' [footnote ]-- we must still be just, and characterise the ancient capital of central asia, from its site and the luxuriant vegetation in the midst of which it stands, as the most beautiful in turkestan. khokand and namengan, { } according to native appreciation, rank still higher, but a stranger may be pardoned if he withholds the palm, so long as it has been denied to him with his own eyes to see the superiority. [footnote : 'samarkand firdousi manend.'] [author decides to return] after having remained eight days in samarcand, i formed, at last, my final resolution, and determined to return to the west by the route before mentioned. hadji bilal was desirous of taking me with him to aksu, and promised to try to get me forwards to mecca, either by way of yerkend, thibet, and cashmere, or, if fortune were favourable, by way of komul to bidjing (pekin); but hadji salih did not approve of the plan, both on account of the great distance to be traversed, and the small capital at my disposal. 'you might, indeed, pass as far as aksu, perhaps even as komul, for so far you would meet with musselmans and brethren, all disposed to show you great honour as a dervish from roum, but from that point onwards you would find black unbelievers everywhere, who, although they might throw no obstacle in your way, would give you nothing. by the way of thibet you may find fellow-travellers going from kashgar and yerkend, but i cannot charge myself with the responsibility of taking you with me at this time to khokand, where everything, owing to the recent war, is in the greatest disorder. but khokand you must see; come, then, when things are tranquil: for the present it is better to return by herat to teheran, with the friends whom we have found for you.' although these words of my excellent friend were sensible enough, still i had for hours a long struggle with myself. a journey, i thought, by land to pekin, across the ancient homes of the tartars, kirghis, kalmuks, mongols, and chinese--a way by which { } marco polo himself would not have ventured--is really grand! but moderation whispered in my ear, 'enough for the moment!' i made a retrospect of what i had done, of what countries i had traversed, what distances i had travelled over, and by ways, too, by which no one had preceded me; would it not, i thought, be a pity if i sacrificed the experience which i had acquired, however trifling, in a hazardous and uncertain enterprise? i am but thirty-one years old; what has not happened may still occur; better, perhaps, now, that i should return. hadji bilal jested with me upon my cowardice, and the european reader may agree with him; but local experience has taught me that, at least here, one need not scorn the turkish proverb, that says:-- 'to-day's egg is better than to-morrow's fowl.' [arrival of emir] i was in the midst of the preparations for my departure, when the emir made his triumphal entry, which, as it had been announced three days previously, great crowds assembled in the righistan to witness. no particular pomp, however, distinguished it. the procession was opened by about serbaz, who had thrown leather accoutrements over their clumsy bokhariot dress, and that was supposed to entitle them to the name of regular troops. far in their rear, there followed troops in ranks with standards and kettle-drums. the emir mozaffar-ed-din, and all his escort of higher functionaries, looked, with their snow-white turbans and their wide silk garments of all the colours of the rainbow, more like the chorus of women in the opera of nebuchadnezzar than a troop of tartar warriors. so also it may be said with respect to other officers of the court, of whom some bore white staves { } and others halberds, that there was in the whole procession nothing to remind one of turkestan, except in the followers, of whom many were kiptchaks, and attracted attention by their most original mongol features, and by the arms which they bore, consisting of bows, arrows, and shields. [illustration] entry of the emir into samarcand. the buildings after a sketch by mr. lehman. the day of his entry the emir made, by public notice, a national holiday. several of their kettles of monstrous size were put in requisition, and brought forward in the righistan, for boiling the 'princely pilow,' which consisted of the following ingredients in each kettle:--a sack of rice, three sheep chopped to pieces, a large pan of sheep's fat (enough to make, with us, five pounds of candles), a small sack of carrots; all these were allowed to boil, or perhaps we had better call it _ferment_, together, and, as tea was also served out at discretion, the eating and drinking proceeded bravely. [author's interview with him] the day following it was announced that an arz (public audience) would take place. i took advantage of the opportunity to present myself to the emir under the conduct of my friends, but to my surprise, on entering, our party was stopped by a mehrem, who informed us that his majesty wished to see me apart from my companions. this was a blow, for we all now suspected that something was going wrong. i followed the mehrem, and, after being kept an hour waiting, i was introduced into a room which i had on a previous occasion visited, and there i now saw the emir sitting on a mattress or ottoman of red cloth, surrounded by writings and books. with great presence of mind, i recited a short sura, with the usual prayer for the welfare of the sovereign, and after the amen, to which he himself responded, i { } took my seat, without permission, quite close to his royal person. the boldness of my proceeding--quite, however, in accordance with the character which i assumed--seemed not displeasing to him. i had long forgotten the art of blushing, and so was able to sustain the look which he now directed full in my face, with the intention, probably, of disconcerting me. 'hadji, thou comest, i hear, from roum, to visit the tombs of baha-ed-din, and the saints of turkestan.' 'yes, takhsir (sire [footnote ]); but also to quicken myself by the contemplation of thy sacred beauty' (djemali mubarek), according to the forms of conversation usual on these occasions. [footnote : takhsir signifies sir, and is employed not only in conversing with princes, but all other personages. ] 'strange! and thou hadst then no other motive in coming hither from so distant a land?' 'no, takhsir (sire), it had always been my warmest desire to behold the noble bokhara, and the enchanting samarcand, upon whose sacred soil, as was remarked by sheikh djelal, one should rather walk on one's head than on one's feet. but i have, besides, no other business in life, and have long been moving about everywhere as a djihangeshte' (world pilgrim). 'what, thou, with thy lame foot, a djihangeshte! that is really astonishing.' 'i would be thy victim!' (an expression equivalent to 'pardon me.') 'sire, thy glorious ancestor (peace be with him!) had certainly the same infirmity, and he was even djihanghir' (conqueror of the world). [footnote ] [footnote : timour, whom these emirs of bokhara erroneously claim as their ancestor, was, it is well known, lame; hence, his enemies called him timur 'lenk' (tamerlane, _the lame timour)_. ] { } this reply was agreeable to the emir, who put questions to me respecting my journey, and the impression made upon me by bokhara and samarcand. my observations, which i incessantly strove to ornament with persian sentences and verses from the koran, produced a good effect upon him, for he is himself a mollah, and tolerably well acquainted with arabic. he directed that i should be presented with a serpay (dress) [footnote ] and thirty tenghe, and dismissed me with the command that i should visit him a second time in bokhara. [footnote : this word means ser ta pay (from head to foot); it is a complete dress, consisting of turban, over-dress, girdle, and boots.] when i had received the princely present, i hurried, like a man possessed by a devil, back to my friends, who were delighted at my good fortune. i heard (and there is no improbability in the account) that rahmet bi had drawn up his report concerning me in ambiguous terms, and that the emir had consequently conceived suspicions. my triumph was entirely owing to the flexibility of my tongue (which is really impudent enough). in fact, i had every reason on this occasion to appreciate, the truth of the latin proverb, 'quot linguas cales tot homines vales.' after this scene, i was advised by my friends to quit samarcand in all speed, not to make any stay even in karshi, but to gain as rapidly as possible the further bank of the oxus, where, amongst the hospitable ersari turkomans, i might await the arrival of the karavan for herat. [parting from the hadjis, and departure from samarcand.] the hour of departure was at hand. my pen is too feeble to convey any adequate idea of the distressing scene that took place between us; on both sides we were really equally moved. for six long months we { } had shared the great dangers of deserts, of robbers, and inclement weather. what wonder if all difference of position, age, and nationality had been lost sight of, and if we regarded each other as all members of a single family? separation was, in our case, equivalent to death. how could it be otherwise in these countries, where there was positively not even a hope of seeing each other again? my heart seemed as if it would burst, when i thought that i was not permitted to communicate the secret of my disguise to these, my best friends in the world, that i must deceive those to whom i owed even my life. i tried to imagine a way--i wished to make trial of them; but religious fanaticism, to be found sometimes even in civilised europe, has a fearful influence upon the oriental, and particularly so upon the islamite. my confession, in itself a capital offence [footnote ] by the law of mohammed, might not perhaps, for the moment, have severed all ties of friendship; but how bitterly, how dreadfully would my friend hadji salih, who was so sincere in his religious opinions, have felt the deception! no, i determined to spare him this sorrow, and to save myself from any reproach of ingratitude. he must, i thought, be left in the fond delusion. [footnote : a murtad (renegade) is directed to be stoned to death.] after having commended me to some pilgrims, whom i was to accompany to mecca, as their very brother, son in fact, as one whom they most valued, they accompanied me after sunset to the outside of the city gate, where the cart that my new companions had hired for the journey to karshi was waiting for us. i wept like a child when, tearing myself from their embraces, i took my seat in the vehicle. my { } friends were all bathed in tears, and long did i see them--and i see them now--standing there in the same place, with their hands raised to heaven, imploring allah's blessing upon my far journey. i turned round many times to look back. at last, they disappeared, and i found i was only gazing upon the domes of samarcand, illuminated by the faint light of the rising moon! { } chapter xii. samarcand to karshi through desert nomads karshi, the ancient nakhseb trade and manufacture kerki oxus author charged with being runaway slave ersari turkomans mezari sherif belkh author joins karavan from bokhara slavery zeÏd andkhuy yeketut khairabad maymene akkale. _non succurrit tibi quamdiu circum bactra haereas?_--q. curtii rufi lib. vii. . [samarcand to karshi through desert] my new travelling companions were from oosh mergolan, and namengan (khanat of khokand). it is unnecessary to describe them particularly. they were far from being to me like those friends from whom i had just parted; nor did we remain long together. i attached myself, in preference, to a young mollah from kungrat, who had travelled with us to samarcand, and hoped to proceed, in my company, as far as mecca. he was a young man, good-humoured, and as poor as myself, who looked up to me as one superior to himself in learning, and was disposed to serve me. from samarcand to karshi there are three ways, first by shehri sebz, which may be styled almost a circuitous way, and is the longest; secondly, by djam, only fifteen miles, but through a stony and mountainous country, and consequently difficult, if not impracticable, for carts; thirdly, through the desert. { } barely eighteen miles in length. on setting out, we had, anyhow, to take the bokhara road as far as the hill, whence samarcand first becomes visible to the traveller approaching it from the former city. here we turned off to the left. the way then passes through two villages, in the midst of land well cultivated. after proceeding three miles, we halted at the karavanserai, robati hauz, where the road divides into two others, that on the left passing by djam, that on the right traversing a desert. we took the latter. in comparison with those deserts through which i had already made my way, this one, with respect to size, may be styled a moderate-sized field. it is everywhere visited by shepherds, from the convenience of its numerous wells of tolerably good water; in the neighbourhood of these the ozbegs constantly pitch their tents. the wells are, for the most part, deep, and have each near them a somewhat elevated reservoir of stone or wood, always in the form of a square, into which is thrown the water drawn from the wells, for the use of cattle. as the buckets are small, and the shepherd would be soon tired by repeatedly using them, an ass, or more often a camel, is employed; the rope is attached to the saddle, and the animal draws up the bucket by walking a distance equal to the length of the cord. the appearance of these wells, of the drinking sheep, and the busy shepherd, has, in the stillness of those evening hours, something not unpoetic; and i was very much struck by the resemblance between this part of the desert and our puszta (heaths) in hungary. { } in consequence of the strictness with which the police regulations were enforced everywhere by the emir of bokhara, the routes here are so safe, that not merely small karavans, but even single travellers, traverse the desert unmolested. on the second day we met at one of the wells a karavan coming from karshi. there was amongst the travellers a young woman who had been treacherously sold by her own husband to an aged tadjik for thirty tilla. it was not until she reached the desert that she became fully aware of the cruel trick to which she was victim: the wretched creature, shrieking and weeping and tearing her hair, ran up to me like one distracted, and exclaimed, 'hadjim (my hadji), thou that hast read books, tell me where it is written that a musselman can sell his wife who has borne him children! 'i affirmed it to be a sin, but the tadjik only laughed at me, for he had, probably, already an understanding with the kazi kelan (superior judge) of karshi, and felt sure of his purchase. as we advanced but slowly on account of the great heat, we took two days and three nights to reach karshi. we first came in sight of it on reaching a plateau, where the road again divides into two, that on the right hand leading to kette kurgan, and that on the left conducting to the river that flows hither from shehri sebz, and disappears in the sand at a considerable distance beyond karshi. from this point the whole way to the city, which is distant two miles, passes continually through cultivated land and numerous gardens, and as karshi has no walls, one does not know before crossing the bridge that one is in the city. karshi, the ancient nakhsheb, is, both from its size and its commercial importance, the second city in the khanat of bokhara; it consists of the city (proper) { } and the citadel (kurgantche), which latter is on its north-western side, and weakly fortified. karshi has, at present, ten karavanserais and a well-supplied bazaar, and, should no political disturbances occur to prevent, is considered likely to play an important part in the transit trade organised between bokhara, kaboul, and india. the inhabitants, estimated at , souls, are for the most part Özbegs, and form the nucleus of the troops of the khan. the population consists, besides, of tadjiks, indians, afghans, and jews: the latter have the privilege of riding even in the interior of the city, which they are not allowed to do in any other part of the khanat. with respect to its manufactures karshi, less so, however, than hissar (at a little distance from it), is distinguished by its fabrication of knives of different kinds. these are not only exported to all parts of central asia, but are conveyed by the hadjis to persia, arabia, and turkey, where they realise three times, and often four times, the cost price. one kind, with damascus blades, and handles with gold and silver inlaid, is really worked with great taste, and might, both for durability and temper, put to shame the most famous produce of sheffield and birmingham. [nomads] amongst the letters of recommendation with which my friends had furnished me to different khans and mollahs on my way, one was addressed to a certain ishan hasan, who stood in high repute in karshi. when i visited him he received me in a friendly manner, and advised me, as all cattle, and particularly asses, were cheap, to purchase one of these long-eared coursers, nor did he omit to tell me also to do like all other hadjis, and employ what little money i had left in procuring knives, needles, thread, glass beads, { } bokhariot sacking, but, most of all, cornelians imported from bedakhshan, and which are also cheap there; for he said that, as we were going amongst tribes of nomads, we should, by means of such merchandise, be able to gain something, and besides maintain ourselves better, for that for a single needle or a few glass beads (mondjuck), one might often obtain bread and melons to support one a whole day. i saw at once that the good man was right, and proceeded the very same day, in company with the mollah from kungrat, to purchase some of the articles specified, so that, whilst one side of my khurdjin knapsack was filled with my manuscripts, the other was occupied by a stock of cutlery. thus i became simultaneously antiquary, haberdasher, hadji, and mollah, besides filling the accessorial functions of dispenser of blessings, nefes, amulets, and other wonders. singular contrast! it is just a year ago that i exercised all those offices, and now i sit in the english metropolis confined within four walls, writing from eight to ten hours a day. there i had to do with nomads picking out from my glass beads those of lightest colour, and from my amulets those having the broadest red edgings; here i have to do with publishers, and stand with embarrassment before a critical and fastidious public, whose various and discordant requisitions are certainly more difficult to satisfy than the fashionable taste of a young turkoman, or of a young brunette daughter of the djemshidi! [karshi, the ancient nakhseb; trade and manufacture; kerki] it was quite a surprise for me to see in karshi a public place of recreation not to be found upon the same scale either in bokhara or samarcand, or even in persia itself. it is a large garden bearing the modest title kalenterkhane (beggar's house), { } extending along the bank of the river, and containing several walks and beds of flowers. here the _beau monde_ of karshi are in motion from two o'clock in the afternoon until an hour after sunset. in different places the steaming samovars (giant russian teakettles) are in requisition, surrounded constantly by circles of customers, two or three deep; the sight of the gay crowd is, for the traveller in central asia, really something uncommon. the inhabitants of karshi are in other respects distinguished by their cheerfulness and light-heartedness; they are, in fact, regarded as the shirazi of the khanat of bokhara. after a sojourn of three days, we started for kerki, distant only fourteen miles: there is but one road. our party now only consisted, in addition to myself, of mollah ishak (such was the name of the mollah from kungrat), and two other hadjis. at the distance of two miles from karshi we passed through a large and, as i understood, a rich village, named feizabad, and spent half the night in the ruins of a cistern: there are many in these parts, all dating from the time of abdullah khan. although security reigned everywhere, we were advised that we ought to be upon our guard when we were farther from karshi, as there were already turkomans about not to be depended upon. posting our asses in a corner of the ruins, we laid ourselves down in the front part of it upon our knapsacks, and so slept alternately, until towards midnight. we then started again, in order to reach our intended station before noon. we arrived long before that period at the cistern sengsulak. on seeing it at a distance surrounded by tents and feeding flocks, we rejoiced, for we felt now certain to find water, which we had before doubted, and therefore had loaded our { } asses with that necessary article. the high dome-like arch of the cistern, although more than years old, is quite uninjured, as also are some recesses in it that afford shade to travellers. the cistern, situated in the lower part of a valley, is completely filled, not only by the melting of the snows in the spring, but by rains. we found it then only three feet deep, and surrounded by tents of the Özbegs, from the tribes of kungrat and nayman; their cattle, and their children in a complete state of nudity, were splashing about in it, and spoiling its flavour a little. as from here to kerki is reckoned six miles, we wished, for the sake of our beasts, to make this tolerably long station a night journey, and to employ the day in sleeping. our repose was soon disturbed, for the nomad girls had got scent of our glass beads. they hurried to us with huge wooden plates of camel's milk and mare's milk, to entice us to exchange. an hour after sunset we started; it was a clear fine night. we had hardly got four leagues on our journey, when we all, simultaneously overpowered by sleep, sank down and slumbered with the reins of rope still in our hands. we were soon, however, awakened by horsemen, who reproached us with our imprudence, and incited us to continue our march. we sprang up, and, partly proceeding on foot and partly riding, reached at sunrise the oxus. on the nearer bank stands the little citadel; on the further one, upon a steep hill, the frontier fortress round which lies spread the city kerki. [oxus; author charged with being runaway slave.] the oxus, which flows between the two fortresses just mentioned, is nearly twice as broad as the danube where it runs between pesth and ofen. the current is very strong, with banks of sand here and there. { } our passage over, as unluckily we were carried a little too far down the stream, lasted three hours. when things are most favourable for crossing--that is, during the summer months--the passage over where the river is deepest requires full half an hour, for it is unheard of, nay, impossible, for a ferry boat to cross without the boatman being obliged to step into the water and drag it by the rope over some shallow part. happily, the heat was not as great as when i had before crossed, at khanka; we did not, therefore, suffer much. the boatmen were humane and civil enough not to require from us any fare. scarcely had we reached the opposite bank, when we were stopped by the deryabeghi (intendant of the ferry) of the governor of kerki, who accused us of being runaway slaves making for persia, our heretical fatherland. he forced us, bag and baggage, into the fortress, there to be heard by the governor in person. imagine my astonishment. my three colleagues, whose physiognomy, pronunciation, and language at once attested their origin, were not at all alarmed, and were, in fact, soon set free. with me they made a little difficulty, but, as i saw that they were about forcibly to take away my ass, i fell into a passion, and, employing alternately the dialects of tartary and the turkish dialect peculiar to constantinople, i handed in my passport, demanding in a violent manner that they should show it to the bi (governor), or that they should usher me to his presence. on making this disturbance, i saw that the toptchubashi (commandant of artillery) in the fortress, a persian by birth, who had elevated himself from the condition of a slave to his present rank, whispered something in the ear of the deryabeghi; he then { } took me aside, and told me that he had been several times in stamboul from tebriz, his native city; that he could distinguish people from roum very well; i might be easy, nothing would happen here either to me or my property; that all strangers were obliged to submit to the examination, because every emancipated slave on his way home was obliged to pay here, on the frontier, a tax of two ducats, and that often, to smuggle themselves through, they assumed different disguises. soon afterwards, the servant returned who had shown my pass to the governor; he gave it me back, with five tenghe presented to me by the bi, without any request on my part. [ersari turkomans] as kerki is a frontier fortress, and is, so to say, the key of bokhara on the side of herat, let us describe it more in detail. as i before said, the fortifications are divided into two parts. the citadel on the right bank of the river is very small, and is defended by only four cannon, and guarded in time of peace by a few soldiers. the fortress itself, on the left bank, consists first of the castle built upon the hill, encircled by three walls, and having, as i heard, twelve cannon of iron and six of brass: the walls are of earth and tolerably strong, five feet broad and twelve feet high. the town, which is spread round the fortress, consists of houses, three mosques, a small bazaar, and karavanserai: it is also defended by a good wall and deep ditch. the inhabitants are Özbegs and turkomans, employed a little in trade, but more in agriculture. near the walls of the city is the tomb of the famous imam kerkhi, the author of many commentaries. the province of kerki extends from the vicinity of chardjuy to the ford hadji salih (falsely called hojasalu), on the bank of the oxus, so far as the canals of { } the said river run. this country is inhabited by the ersari turkomans, who pay tribute to the emir only to secure themselves from hostilities on the part of the other tribes. in earlier and different times the sovereign of bokhara had other possessions on the further side of the oxus, but he was deprived of them by the victorious dost mohammed khan, and now has nothing remaining there except chardjuy and kerki. i heard, to my great regret, that mollah zeman, the chief of the karavan, proceeding from bokhara to herat, would not arrive for eight or ten days. i therefore considered it advisable to pass the interval rather in journeys amongst the turkomans than in kerki. i went with mollah ishak to the tribes kizil ayak and hasan-menekli, amongst whom there were mollahs who had seen me at bokhara with some of my friends. the ersari turkomans, who only migrated hither from manghishlak years ago, and have not recognised the supremacy of bokhara except during the last forty years, have retained very little of the national characteristics of the turkomans. they may be styled only semi-nomads, the greater part cultivating the land, and the remainder, still exclusively pastoral, having lost with their savage character all the primitive virtues of their kindred tribe. the exertions of bokhara, in favour of civilisation, have stripped them at once of their sword and their integrity, giving them in exchange the koran and hypocrisy. never shall i forget the scenes that i witnessed as a guest in the house of one of the most considerable ishans of these turkomans. khalfa niyaz had inherited from his father sanctity, knowledge, and rank. he had a tekkie (monastery), { } where a limited number of students were instructed _à la_ bokhara. he had besides obtained an izn (permission) from mecca, to recite the sacred poems (kaside sherif): in doing so he used to place before him a cup with water into which he spat at the end of each poem; and this composition, into which the sanctity of the text had penetrated, was sold to the best bidder as a wonder-working medicine! there is only one quality of the turkomans that they have retained uncorrupted--hospitality, which is displayed to all strangers whether they abide a day or a year; for throughout all turkestan, if we except the tadjiks, the proverb is unknown:-- hôte et poisson, en trois jours poison. [mezari sherif] i made an excursion also with my host to the mezari sherif ('the noble grave'). it is two days' journey from his ova, and four or five from kerki, and not very far from belkh. as mezari sherif is said to be the tomb of ali, it is throughout the whole of turkestan an important place of pilgrimage. history tells that the miraculous grave at shahi merdan ali ('king of the heroes,' as mezar is also otherwise called) was discovered in the time of the sultan sandjar. belkh being covered every where with ruins, it was supposed to have guarded its treasures ever since the time of the divs (devils): the last-named sultan, therefore, caused excavations to be made, and on one of these occasions a stone table of the purest white was found with the inscription, 'this is the tomb of ali, the son of abutahb, the mighty hero and companion of the prophet.' { } [belkh] this circumstance is only so far interesting that it enabled us to establish that the ruins of ancient belkh, styled by the orientals 'the mother of cities,' covered formerly a distance of five leagues. now only a few heaps of earth are pointed to as the site of the ancient bactra, and of the modern ruins there is nothing remarkable but a half-demolished mosque, built by the sultan sandjar of the race of the seldjoukides; for in the middle ages belkh was the capital of islamite civilisation, and was styled kubbet-ül islam ('the dome of islam'). it is singular that the bricks here are of the same size and quality as those in the ruins amongst the yomuts; but i have been able to find amongst them no cuneiform inscriptions. excavations would incontestably produce interesting results; but they would be impossible without recommendatory letters, backed by two or three thousand european bayonets. modern belkh, regarded as the capital of the afghan province of turkestan, and occupied by the serdar with his garrison, is only a winter residence, for in spring even the poorest inhabitant leaves it for mezar, whose situation is more elevated, its temperature less oppressive, and its air less impure, than those of the ruins of the ancient bactra; for whilst the latter is famous for poisonous scorpions, the former has a high reputation as producing the wonder-working red roses (gül-i-surkh). these flowers grow upon the pretended tomb of ali, [footnote ] and have positively the sweetest smell and the finest colour of any i ever saw. superstition fondly credits the story that they will not succeed in any other soil than that of mezar. every attempt, at least, to transplant it in mezar itself has failed. [footnote : the real monument of ali is in nedjef.] { } [author joins karavan from bokhara; slavery] after a wearisome delay, we at last received intelligence of the arrival of the herat karavan. i hurried to kerki, and thought that i might proceed on my journey, when our departure was again postponed owing to a dispute about the tax imposed upon emancipated slaves. mollah zeman had in his karavan about forty of these, partly from herat, partly from persia, who journeyed homeward under his protection, which the poor men were obliged to purchase at a high rate, for otherwise they incurred the risk of being caught up and sold a second time. although zeman was well known to all the officers on the frontiers, he nevertheless had quarrels with them every time he passed, not so much on account of the tax itself, which is here fixed, but of the number of the slaves liable to it, which he always endeavoured to diminish and the authorities to increase. every traveller not well known is presumed to be a slave, and is seized as such; and as every one seeks to enforce his own view of liability or exemption, there is no end to the shouting, quarrelling, and tumult. finally, however, everything is left to the decision of the kervanbashi, who, from his karavan of from to travellers, names such as emancipated slaves whose type, language, and other indications are unmistakable. generally speaking, suspicion principally attaches to vagabonds and other travellers who journey with no apparent object in view; and as these for the most part assume the title of hadjis, it is the policy of the zeman to get together in bokhara as many genuine hadjis as possible, in whose ranks he then places his ex-slaves the false hadjis. { } they took a whole day to get through the bales of goods, the men, horses, camels, and asses. at last, they started, escorted by a custom-house officer, who kept strict watch to prevent any other travellers joining the karavan by circuitous routes. when we had got beyond the inhabited district--which is, in fact, the frontier of bokhara--he turned back, and we proceeded on our way into the desert. we were in two days to reach the khanat of andkhuy. [zeid] whilst my heavily-laden ass was trotting on in the still night, the joyful thought for the first time occurred to me that i had turned my back upon the khanat of bokhara, and that i was actually on my way to that west which i loved so well. my travelling experience, thought i, may not be great, but i carry back with me what is worth more than anything--my life. i could not contain myself for joy when i thought that perhaps i might be so fortunate as to reach persia, that mecca of my warmest wishes. our karavan, consisting of camels, a few horses, and asses, formed a long chain; and after sturdily marching the whole night, we reached, early in the morning, the station zeid, which consists of a few wells of bad water at six miles' distance from kerki. there were in the karavan, as i remarked at the first station, many others besides myself who were longing to reach the southernmost frontiers of central asia. these were the emancipated slaves, with whom hadjis were intermixed, and i had an opportunity of witnessing the most heart-rending incidents. near me was an old man--a father--bowed down by years. he had ransomed, at bokhara, his son, a man in his thirtieth year, in order to restore a protector to his family left behind--that is to say, to his daughter-in-law a husband, to his children a father. the price was fifty ducats, and its payment had reduced the { } poor old man to beggary. 'but,' said he to me, 'rather the beggar's staff than my son in chains.' his home was khaf in persia. from the same city, not far from us, was another man, still of active strength, but his hair had turned grey with sorrow, for he had been despoiled by the turkomans, some eight years ago, of life, sister, and six children. the unfortunate man had to wander from place to place a whole year in khiva and bokhara, to discover the spot in which those near members of his family were languishing in captivity. after long search, he found that his wife, sister, and two youngest children had succumbed under the severity of their servitude, and that, of the four children that survived, he could only ransom half. the remaining two having besides grown up, the sum demanded for them was beyond his means. farther on sat a young man from herat, who had ransomed his mother. only two years ago, this woman, now in her fiftieth year, was, with her husband and eldest son, surprised by an alaman. after seeing those near relatives both fall, in self-defence, under the lances and swords of the turkomans, she experienced herself unceasing sufferings until sold for sixteen ducats in bokhara. the owner, discovering a son in him who sought to ransom her, exacted a double amount, thus turning filial piety to cruelly usurious account. nor must i omit to mention another unhappy case--that of an inhabitant of tebbes. he was captured eight years ago, and after the lapse of two years he was ransomed by his father. they were both returning home, and were three leagues from their native city, when they were suddenly attacked by the turkomans, taken prisoners, led back to bokhara, and again sold as slaves. now, they were a second time freed, and were being conveyed to their homes. { } but why any longer distress the reader with these cruelties? unfortunately, the above are only a few sketches of that lamentable plague by which, for centuries, those districts, but more especially the north-eastern part of persia, have been depopulated. amongst the tekke turkomans are reckoned at the present hour more than , mounted robbers, who are intent upon kidnapping expeditions night and day; and one can easily form an idea of how many houses and villages are devastated, how much family happiness destroyed, by these greedy free-booters. we started from zeid about noon. the whole country is one dry, barren plain, only occasionally producing a sort of thistle, the favourite fodder of the camels. it surprises us to see how these animals tear with their tongue and swallow a plant, to the sting of which the hardest hand is sensible. [andkhuy] we continued to proceed in a south-westerly direction. they pointed out to us from a distance some turkomans of the tribe kara, watching for prey, and who would have been disposed even to attack our karavan had not its size rendered it unassailable. towards evening we encamped. the adventurers galloped by us at two different points. we sent a few shots after them, and they made no second demonstration. an hour after sunset we set off again, and after advancing with the greatest caution the whole night, we arrived next morning at the ruins of andkhuy. { } the karavan took up its quarters at the end of the ancient city, near the charbag of the khan; and in its immediate proximity all those travellers also stationed themselves who, aware what notorious robbers the inhabitants were, did not dare to withdraw from the protection of the kervanbashi. we found that they had determined that we should stay here a few days; because the regulations respecting the customs never cease to occasion delay, as the khan or his vizir always superintends in person. the khan begins by demanding ordinarily exorbitant sums as the tax for men (i.e. emancipated slaves), for cattle, and bales of goods; and as he allows the matter to be discussed with himself, the question how far the tax is to be levied depends only upon the adroitness of the kervanbashi and the leisure time at his disposal. to avoid staying through this tiresome operation, i went with the other hadjis into the city, to seek shelter under the cool shade of an old medresse, and also to open a shop at the bazaar, to realise by the sale of my cutlery the necessary food for the day, and a little money. long did i wander about the ruins before i was able to find a place. i at last took up my position near the residence of the khan, in the court of a mosque. the bazaar consisted only of a few warehouses where bread was sold, and of two or three shops for the sale of a little linen and cheap ready-made clothes. our presence had given some animation to the market; our stall was surrounded by women and children from morning till evening; but still we could not get rid of our stock, for these people offered us in exchange only fruit and bread, instead of money; of course, we could not consent to such a barter for raw materials in a country where a single tenghe (three-quarter franc) will purchase fifty melons. these melons are far from being so good as those i had seen on the banks of the oxus; { } but it is astonishing what a quantity of fruit, corn, and rice is raised in this desert-like neighbourhood, only scantily watered by a little salt stream flowing hither from maymene. in summer a stranger finds this water--to the execrable taste of which the inhabitants are accustomed--quite undrinkable; and although it generates no worms (rishte), like that in bokhara, it is said to produce many other evil consequences. the climate, too, is in bad repute; and a persian verse says with reason, _andkhuy has bitter salt water, scorching sand, venomous flies, and even scorpions. vaunt if not, for it is the picture of a real hell._ and yet, in spite of all these disadvantages, andkhuy was, only thirty years ago, very flourishing. it is said to have had a population of , souls. they carried on an important traffic with persia in the fine black sheep-skins called by us astrakhan, and even seriously rivalled bokhara, where this article is produced of first-rate quality. the camels of andkhuy are the most in request throughout turkestan, particularly a kind called ner, distinguished by abundant hair streaming down from the neck and breast, a slim slender figure, and extraordinary strength. these animals have become scarce; the inhabitants themselves having for the most part either emigrated or perished. mollah ishak had a countryman here, who was one of the most distinguished imams, and as he had invited us, i found an opportunity to become acquainted with the chief residents of the spiritual order. i was much struck by the great disorder reigning in the regulations, both as to justice and religion. the kazi kelan (superior judge), who in bokhara and { } khiva is a great man, plays here the part of a buffoon. every one does as he thinks fit, and even the most atrocious crime can be compounded for by a present. the consequence is, that the inhabitants speak of bokhara as the model of justice, of piety, and earthly grandeur, and would think themselves quite happy if the emir would only condescend to take them under his sceptre. an old Özbeg remarked to me that 'even the frenghi (english) (god pardon him his sins!) would be better than the present musselman government.' he added that he still remembered a hekim bashi (moorcroft) who died in his uncle's house in the time of the emir haydar; that he was a clever magician and good physician; that he might have become as rich as he pleased; but with all these advantages he remained unassuming and condescending towards every one, even towards women. i made many enquiries respecting the death of this traveller, and all agreed in their accounts, that he had died of fever; which is indeed far more probable than the story of his having been poisoned. andkhuy contains at present about , houses, which form the city, and about , tents, which are either in its environs, or scattered over the oases in the desert. the number of inhabitants is estimated at , . they are principally turkomans, of the tribe alieli, intermixed with Özbegs and a few tadjiks. formerly andkhuy, like khulum, kunduz, and belkh, formed a separate khanat; but lying on the high road to herat, it is more exposed to the attacks of the emirs of bokhara and afghanistan, than those other places which i have mentioned. down to the year , it is said to have been tolerably flourishing. it was then subject to bokhara, and was compelled to { } oppose the victorious march upon the oxus of yar mohammed khan, who besieged it during four months, and at last only took it by storm. the city was plundered, and left a heap of ruins. the greater part of those inhabitants who could not fly fell under the swords of the merciless afghans. the present sovereign, gazanfer khan, to preserve himself from utter destruction, threw himself into the arms of the afghans, and thereby made bitter enemies of bokhara on one side, and of the neighbouring maymene on the other. even during our stay in andkhuy, he was obliged to join in person the serdar of belkh, and give battle to maymene, which, however, inflicted upon the allies a signal defeat. in the meantime all things were in confusion in our karavan. the vizir, who wanted during the absence of the khan to enrich himself by an enormous increase of the imposts, was already quarrelling with the kervanbashi. from words, indeed, they soon came to blows; and as the inhabitants sided with the karavan, the members of the latter stoutly stood to their arms, and made up their minds for the worst. happily the khan, a well-disposed man, arrived at that very moment from the seat of war; he made up the differences by diminishing the immoderate tax imposed by his vizir, and dismissed us upon our way with the recommendation to be careful, as the turkomans, turning to account the confusion that reigned everywhere, were scouring the country and besetting all the ways. but this did not inspire in us much alarm, for in andkhuy our karavan had swelled to double its former size, so that we had no cause to apprehend a surprise by robbers. { } [yeketut; khairabad; maymene] we set out that very same afternoon, encamping at yeketut, distant but a league from andkhuy. it was the place appointed for our rendezvous. we proceeded hence during the night. the next station was on the bank of a stream coming from maymene. its bed, unusually deep in many places, is thickly planted with trees. from andkhuy to maymene they reckon twenty-two miles--a three days' journey for camels. of this distance we had thus far performed eight miles; the remainder (fourteen miles) it would have been easy to accomplish, had we not been obliged to pass secretly by khaïrabad, which should have been our second station, and reach next morning the district of maymene. khaïrabad belonged then to the afghans, and the kervanbashi was quite right in not venturing to approach it, as he knew that even in peace the afghans committed virtual robbery under pretence of levying their customs; and it might be readily imagined how the military authorities would have treated the karavan had it fallen into their hands. some inhabitants of khaïrabad who were in the karavan, on coming near their native city, wanted to separate from us; but they were forced to continue their journey, because treachery was apprehended, and, in case of discovery, the afghans would have confiscated everything. although the camels were heavily laden, the journey was continued, without interruption, from noon until eight o'clock next morning. the poor tired brutes were left behind; and great was our joy when we arrived the next morning, without accident, in the khanat of maymene. the last station was a harassing one, not merely from these apprehensions, but from the physical difficulties that it presented; for about nine miles from andkhuy, { } the country becomes more and more hilly, until, in the neighbourhood of maymene, it is quite mountainous. besides this, we had to cross a small portion of the dangerous batkak (which consists of marshes), where, notwithstanding the heat of the season, there was mud in many places. this caused the camels and asses much suffering. i rode a sturdy little brute; but as his small feet sank so often, he got tired of pulling them out again, and gave me much trouble in shouting, entreating, and tugging before i could get him to advance from the spongy ground. [akkale] we encamped at the foot of a small citadel named akkale, which is distant from maymene four leagues. the kervanbashi made a present to the hadjis of two sheep, as a grateful acknowledgment to god for having happily escaped from the peril to which the karavan had been exposed. as the senior, i was charged with the division of the donation. we ate that whole day, instead of bread, roast meat, and sang together in the evening some telkins (hymns) to the accompaniment, under my direction, of a zikr--that is, we shouted out to the full extent of our voices two thousand times, ya hoo! ya hakk! from this spot, our arrival was reported in maymene. towards evening an officer of the customs--a civil honest Özbeg--came to us, and wrote down his report. at night, we again started, and were in maymene next morning. { } chapter xiii. maymene its political position and importance reigning prince rivalry of bokhara and kabul dost mohammed khan ishan eyub and mollah khalmurad khanat and fortress of maymene escaped russian offenders murgab river and bala murgab djemshidi and afghan ruinous taxes on merchandise kalÈ no hezare afghan exactions and maladministration. _wild warriors of the turquoise hills, and those who dwell beyond the everlasting snows of hindoo kosh, in stormy freedom bred, their fort the rock, their camp the torrent's bed._ moore, _veiled prophet_. [maymene; its political position and importance; reigning prince; rivalry of bokhara and kabul; dost mohammed khan] before entering maymene, let me describe the political state of that country, for as that city plays a part of great importance, some preliminary observations are here quite indispensable. the whole tract of land on this side of the oxus, as far as hindukush and herat, has, from ancient times, been the field of continual quarrels and warfare; and these have involved not only the small predatory states in its vicinity, kunduz, khulum, belkh, aktche, serepul, shiborgan, andkhuy, bedakshan, and maymene, but the emirs themselves, both of bokhara and kabul. these princes, to carry out their plans of conquest, have been ever ready to kindle the flames of dissension; sometimes, too, they have taken an active part in these differences. they { } have striven to gain over to their respective causes some one of the above-named cities, or even actually to incorporate it, and to make use of it for the particular ends they had in view. the emirs were, in fact, the principal rivals in the field. until the commencement of this century, the influence of bokhara had almost always predominated; but it has been in more recent tunes supplanted by the afghan tribes of the durani, sadduzi, and barekzi; and at last dost mohammed khan succeeded, partly by force and partly by cunning, in bringing under his sceptre all the states i have mentioned, with the exception of bedakhshan and maymene. he formed the province turkestan, naming for its capital belkh. this city is made the seat of a serdar, who has under his command ten thousand men, partly paltan (regular troops), partly native militia, and three batteries of field-pieces. the possession of the mountainous bedakhshan was not much coveted by the energetic dost mohammed khan. its native prince became a vassal, and the afghan was for the time satisfied. the case stands differently with maymene. it lies half-way on the route to bokhara, and has been several times besieged, without success, both by dost mohammed khan and by yar mohammed khan. in , when the grey barekzi prince drew the sword to punish faithless herat, the whole of central asia trembled; but maymene again resisted, and was again victorious. the bravery of the Özbegs there became proverbial, and an idea may be formed of the proud spirit of this city, when she could affirm, with truth, at the death of dost mohammed khan, that she alone, of all the neighbouring states, had refused to do homage to the flag of the afghans. { } the death of dost mohammed khan--an event of the highest importance to the destiny of central asia--was thought to threaten it with great change and political revolutions. the emir of bokhara was the first who sought to profit by the occasion, and, in spite of his notorious penuriousness, sent a subsidy of ten thousand tilla to the little warlike maymene; and an agreement was made that the emir should cross the oxus, and, uniting his forces with those of his ally, should make a simultaneous attack upon their common enemy, the afghans. the reigning prince of maymene, however, being a youth of fiery spirit, [footnote ] was too impatient to await his ally's approach, began the struggle with the forces at his own disposal, and succeeded in capturing some small places from the afghans, a success which enabled him to ornament the gate of his fortress with three hundred long-haired afghan skulls. during our stay in his city, they were making preparations to renew the contest on a larger scale. [footnote : he is in his nd year.] [ishan eyub and mollah khalmurad] when the karavan had encamped here, outside the town, i visited the tekkie of a certain ishan eyub, to whom i had letters of recommendation from hadji salih. i spared no pains to gain his favourable opinion, for i thought it would be of service to me in the event of a _rencontre_ which i expected to make in maymene, and which i dreaded, as it might have the disagreeable effect of betraying my identity, and, my disguise once discovered, i might again be exposed to great danger. the person whom i so dreaded to meet was a certain mollah khalmurad, who had been known to me in constantinople, and had given me lessons in the turkish djagatay { } during a period of four months. the mollah--a very cunning fellow--had already perceived on the bosphorus that i was not the genuine reshid efendi for whom i was taken. having been told of my intention of travelling to bokhara, he had, indeed, formally tendered his services as cicerone, assuring me at the same time that he had served the english mollah yusuf (dr. wolff) in the same capacity. as i left him in doubt respecting my intentions, he proceeded to mecca. i knew that his design had been to return home by bombay and karatchi, and was apprehensive of encountering him, for i was firmly convinced that in spite of the kindness with which i had loaded him, he was quite capable of denouncing me, if he had the slightest interest in doing so. all communication being interrupted between maymene and bokhara by the afghan campaign, i had the good fortune to escape his taking me by surprise in the latter city; but in maymene i hardly expected to be so lucky, and, to foil any possible attack from this quarter, i felt it necessary to secure for myself some firm _locus standi_, which i might do by striving to win the good opinion and favour of ishan eyub, who was generally respected. after having been three days in the city, i took the initiative and made inquiries as to my man. 'what! khalmurad?' said the ishan in astonishment, 'thou hast been acquainted with him (peace to him, and long life to us!). he had the happiness of dying in mecca, and, as he was my bosom friend, i have received his children into my house, and the little one there (pointing, as he said that, to a boy) is one of his sons.' i gave the child a whole string of glass beads, said three fatihas for the { } salvation of the soul of the departed, [footnote ] and my well-grounded apprehensions therefore at once ceased. [footnote : on my return to teheran, i was told by my friend ismael efendi, then _chargé d'affaires_ of the porte at the persian court, that a month before my arrival a mollah from maymene, whose description tallied exactly with that of my mollah, whom we thought in the other world, had passed through and had spoken at the embassy of me as of his former pupil in djagatay. khalmurad is consequently not dead, and some singular chance alone prevented our coming in contact.] i began now to move about more at my ease. i soon opened a stall at the corner of a street, but, to my very great disappointment, my stock now was rapidly dwindling away. 'hadji reshid,' said one of my fellow-travellers, 'thou hast already eaten up half of thy knives, needles, and glass beads; thou wilt before long have devoured the other half, and thy ass to boot. what wilt thou then do?' he was right, thought i, for, in fact, what was i to do? my sombre prospects, and particularly the approaching winter, made me a little fearful, for i was still far from the persian frontiers, and every attempt i made to replenish my case i saw fail.' a dervish or a beggar,' i said, 'never passes hungry from the door of an Özbeg. everywhere he has a well-founded hope of something, bread or fruits; here and there, too, an old article of attire, and this sends him, in his own opinion, richly provided on his way.' that i must have suffered, and suffered much, the reader will well understand; but habit, and the hope of returning to europe, enabled me to bear my burden. i slept sweetly enough in the open air, on the bare earth, esteeming myself especially happy in having no longer to dread constant discovery or a death by torture, for my hadji character excited suspicion nowhere. { } [khanat and fortress of maymene] the khanat maymene, so far as its peopled district extends, is eighteen miles broad and twenty miles long. besides its capital, it contains ten villages and cantons, of which the most considerable are kaisar, khafir-kalè, alvar, and khodjakendu. the population, divided into settlers and nomads, is estimated at , souls; in point of nationality, they are for the most part Özbegs of the tribes of min, atchmayli, and daz; they can bring into the field from five to six thousand cavalry, well mounted and well armed. they are distinguished, as i before mentioned, for their bravery. the present ruler of maymene is husein khan, son of hukumet khan. the latter was, by order of his own brother, who is still living, and is uncle of the reigning prince, hurled down from the walls of the citadel, 'in order,' as he expressed himself, 'that his abler son might be placed at the head of affairs.' now, as the latter was then still incapable of reigning, the motive of the atrocious crime is easy to be divined. mirza yakoub--that is the name of this amiable uncle--plays, indeed, the part of vizir, but everybody knows that husein khan is only his instrument. in maymene, at all events, the young prince was more liked than his uncle. the latter would be regarded, even amongst europeans, as a man of agreeable exterior; in the eyes of the Özbegs he is, therefore, an adonis. he is praised for his goodness of heart by men who forget how he enforces the tyrannical law by which the khan, instead of inflicting corporal punishment or imposing fines, sends off his subjects to the slave-market of bokhara. the khans transmit every month a fixed number of these { } unfortunates to that city. it is not considered strange, as it is an ancient custom. the city of maymene stands in the midst of hills, and is only visible when approached within a distance of a quarter of a league. it is extremely filthy and ill built, and consists of , mud huts, and a bazaar built of brick, that seems about to fall; it has besides three mosques and two medresse, the former constructed of mud, the latter of bricks. the inhabitants are Özbegs, with some tadjiks, heratis, about fifty families of jews, a few hindoos, and afghans. these enjoy equal rights, and are not disturbed for reasons of religion or nationality. with respect to maymene considered as a fortress, i was far from being able to discover in the simple city walls and fosses in the citadel, situated on its west side, the imposing stronghold said to be capable of resisting the afghan artillery, mounted in english fashion, and of bidding defiance to all the power of dost mohammed khan. the walls, made of earth, are twelve feet high, and about five broad; the fosse is neither broad nor particularly deep; the citadel is elevated and situated upon a conspicuous hill of steep ascent, but in the neighbourhood there are still higher hills, whence a battery could in a few hours reduce it to ashes. it is therefore probable that the renowned strength of maymene consists rather in the bravery of its defenders than in its walls or ditches. one distinguishes at the first glance in the inhabitant the bold and fearless rider, and it is only the Özbeg of shehri sebz who can contest with him the palm. the resolute warlike character of the inhabitants of this little khanat, and the possession, besides, of the mountainous pass at murgab (river), will ever find enough to do for the afghans, or any { } other conquerors pressing forward from the south towards the oxus; the fortifications of kerki can offer but a weak resistance, and he who would wish to take bokhara must destroy maymene, or be sure of its friendly feeling. in maymene, the kervanbashi and the principal merchants of our karavan were no longer detained by difficulties about the customs, but by arrangements affecting their private interests. they wanted to attend at least two or three horse-markets, for in these parts fine horses are to be purchased cheap, which the Özbegs and the turkomans of the places around bring to the market. these are exported, for the most part, to herat, kandahar, and kabul, and very frequently to india. horses that i saw sold in persia for thirty or forty ducats, fetch here from a hundred to a hundred and sixty tenghe (from fourteen to fifteen ducats), and never did i behold in bokhara, khiva, or karshi, horses so fine sold at prices so low; but it is not only with respect to these animals that the market of maymene affords a rich choice; the natural produce of the country and home manufactures, such as carpets and other stuffs, made partly of wool and partly of camel's hair, are abundantly supplied by the turkoman and djemshidi women. it deserves notice that a considerable export trade is carried on to persia and bagdad in raisins (kishmish), aniseed, and pistachio nuts: a hundred-weight of the aniseed costs here from thirty to forty tenghe. [escaped russian offenders] after a stay of eight days i returned to the karavan, that remained outside of the city, in order to inform myself as to the day when it would resume its journey. i heard here, to my astonishment, that they had been { } searching for me the whole day to give my evidence to get four roumi liberated, who had been arrested by order of the uncle of the khan. according to the decree of the judge, nothing could free them from the suspicion of being run-away slaves, but the production of some credible witness to the genuineness of their turkish origin. before going to the khan let me introduce my countrymen to the reader, as i had very nearly forgotten these highly interesting members of our karavan. these people were nothing more or less than russian criminals. they had been banished to siberia, where they had for eight years been kept at hard labour in the government of tobolsk, and had escaped across the immense steppes of the kirghis to bokhara, and thence were striving to return to their own country by herat, meshed, teheran, &c., to gümrii (elizabethpol). the history of their flight and other adventures is very long. i will only give a slight sketch of it. in the last campaign between russia and turkey, they were engaged with a _razzia_ (tchapao), in the caucasus, by command of government, or as is more probable, on their own account. during this time they had fallen into the hands of a russian patrol; and, as they well merited, were transported to siberia. here they were daily employed in the woods of tobolsk with felling trees; but were kept at night in a prison, and not ill-treated, for they were fed with bread and soup, and often also with meat. years elapsed before they learnt to speak russian; but they did at last learn it from the soldiers that guarded them. conversation being now rendered possible, confidence was inspired; bottles of brandy (vodki) were tendered { } reciprocally, and as, during last spring, one day, more than usual of the warming liquor had been handed to the two soldiers on guard, the captives seized the opportunity, and, instead of oaks, felled the robust russians; exchanged their axes for the arms of those whom they had slaughtered, and after wandering up and down for a long time, and under perilous circumstances--in which they were obliged to feed even upon grass and upon roots--they finally reached some kirghis tents, to them a haven of security; for the nomads regard it as a benevolent act to aid fugitives of that description. from the steppes of the kirghis they passed by tashkend to bokhara, where the emir gave them some money for journey expenses. although on their way it had often been suspected that they were run-away slaves, it was not until they reached maymene that they really incurred any serious danger. at the urgent request of my fellow-travellers, and of the kervanbashi, i went, accompanied by the ishan eyub, the very same day, to the citadel. instead of seeing the khan, we were received by his uncle; he admitted my testimony as competent, and the four fugitives were liberated. they thanked me with tears in their eyes; the whole karavan was rejoiced, and two days afterwards we resumed our journey to herat. the route passed continuously through a mountainous country. the first station, which was in a south-westerly direction, was reached in six hours. it is called almar. this is the designation common to those villages, which lie there scattered at a little distance from each other. hardly had the karavan taken up its quarters here, when the officers of the { } customs at maymene appeared, escorted by a few horsemen, and claimed to make a second examination. this led to shouting, quarrelling, and negotiations which lasted a few hours; but at last we were obliged to submit, and after the poor kervanbashi and merchants had been once more fleeced for dues in respect of wares, cattle, and slaves, the march was resumed towards evening. after having passed the important place called kaisar, we reached a little after midnight the station narin. we had travelled five miles through valleys, small, fruitful, but abandoned; indeed, the whole of this fine district has been rendered unsafe by the thieving turkomans, djemshidi, and firuzkuhi. in narin only a few hours' rest was taken, as we had before us a stage of seven hours. after having marched without cessation the whole day, we reached in the evening the village and station of tchitchektoo, in the neighbourhood of which is a second village called fehmguzar. as the kervanbashi and some of the other travellers had business at the village khodjakendu, which lies to the south east, at a distance of three leagues, amongst the hills, we halted here the whole day. the place itself is regarded as the frontier of maymene, and at the same time of all turkestan. a yüzbashi named devletmurad, who acts here as watcher of the frontiers, levied in this khanat of maymene a third custom-tax, by right of the kamtchin pulu (whip-money [footnote ]). { } on my expressing my astonishment to a herat merchant about this unjust proceeding, he replied, 'we thank god that they only tax us. some time ago we could not pass maymene and andkhuy without risk, for the karavans were plundered by order of the khan himself, and we lost everything.' here in tchitchektoo i saw the last of Özbeg nomads, and i will not deny that i parted from this open-hearted, honest people with great regret, for the nomads of their race whom i met in the khanats of khiva and bokhara have left in my mind the most pleasing recollections of any natives of central asia. [footnote : it is the practice in central asia to give to the escort that accompanies you a sum of money; in germany it is called drink-money, but in the east whip-money. this yüzbashi had the right to exact payment from every passer-by, even although he had rendered no service as escort or guard.] [murgab river and bala murgab; djemshidi and afghan] the karavan was here taken under the protection of an escort of djemshidi, sent to meet us by their khan from bala murgab, because the route henceforth lay through a tolerably broad valley, having the habitations of the sarik turkomans on the right side, and of the mountaineer robbers, the firuzkuhi, on the left. the land is exceedingly fertile, but it lies there, unhappily, fallow and without an owner. as i heard, the karavan during its whole journey from bokhara had not incurred such peril as it did here. our guard consisted of thirty djemshidi, well armed and well mounted, with the addition of about double the number of able-bodied men from the karavan; nevertheless, at every step in advance, vedettes were thrown out to our right hand and to our left upon the hills, and all were in the greatest anxiety. it can readily be imagined in what a state of mind were the poor emancipated slaves, who at great trouble and expense had escaped thus far, and who now saw themselves menaced with a new captivity. the size of the karavan and the precautions taken happily saved us from surprise. we passed the whole day through magnificent meadows, which in { } spite of the advanced season of the year, were covered with flowers and grass that came up to our knees: and after having reposed during the night we arrived the following morning at the ruins of the fortress kalè veli: it was peopled only two years ago, but had been surprised and plundered by a great alaman of the sarik-turkomans. the inhabitants had been partly sold as slaves and partly massacred, the few empty houses still existing and the walls of the fortification will soon be a complete ruin. the djemshidi horsemen, who thus far had only been our escort a single day, now demanded their whip-money; every one who travelled mounted or on foot was to pay it once, but the slaves twofold. the escort affirmed that their present claim was well founded, as they would not receive any portion of the toll-money paid to the khan in bala murgab. towards evening, on the second day after we had left tchitchektoo, we reached the end of that beautiful valley, and the way, leading to the river murgab, traversed a rough mountainous pass, in many places very steep, and at the same time so narrow that loaded camels advancing singly could with difficulty wind their way through; it is said to be the only practicable passage leading over the mountain to the bank of the river. a body of troops that wished to cross the murgab would have either to pass through the desert (and for this they must be on good terms with the salor and the sarik), or make their way through this pass, for which enterprise the friendship of the djemshidi is essential, as their hostility might in the defiles be prejudicial even to the strongest army. { } it was midnight when we arrived on the banks of the river; worn out by their painful mountainous journey, men and beasts all fell into a profound sleep. on awaking next morning i found that we were in a long valley surrounded by lofty mountains, the central point, through which the clear green waters of the murgab [footnote ] cut their way, affording a most charming picture to the eye. [footnote : the murgab rises in the lofty mountains to the east which bear the name of ghur; it flows in a north-westerly direction by martchah and pendjdeh until it loses itself in the sandy plain of merv. it is pretended that at an earlier period it joined the oxus, but this is an utter impossibility.] we proceeded along the bank of the river for half an hour to find a ford, for the current is very strong, and, although not very deep, it cannot be crossed at all places, owing to the blocks of stone lying in its bed. the crossing commenced with the horses, and then followed the camels, and our asses were to close the procession. now, these animals, it is well known, have a great dread of mud and water. i thought it but a necessary measure of prudence to deposit my knapsack, containing my mss.--the most precious result, the _spolia opima_, of my journey--upon the back of a camel. then seating myself upon the empty saddle i forced my ass into the river. when he made his first step upon the stony bottom of the rapid stream, i felt certain that something awful was going to happen: i strove to get down, but that was unnecessary, for a few steps further on my charger fell, amidst the loud laughter of our comrades standing upon the bank, and then afterwards, in great consternation, he made for the opposite bank, as i wished him to do. this cold morning bath in the clear waters of the transparent crystal murgab was only so far { } disagreeable to me that i had no change of clothes, so i was obliged to hide myself a few hours amongst some carpets and sacks until my clothes, which were entirely wet through, should dry in the sun. the karavan encamped near the citadel; in the interior, instead of houses there are only tents, and there the khans or chiefs of the djemshidi reside. this part of the valley of the murgab bears the name of bala murgab [footnote ] (upper murgab); it extends from the frontiers of the lofty mountainous chain of the hezares as far as marchah (snake well), where dwell the salor turkomans; it is said of old to have been a possession of the djemshidi, and that they were for a time dispossessed, but afterwards returned. to the south-west of the fortress the valley becomes so narrow, that it merits rather the name of a defile. through the midst the murgab rolls foaming away with the noise of thunder,--it is not until it has passed pendjdeh, where the river becomes deeper and more sedate, that the valley spreads itself out and acquires a breadth of one or two miles. when merv existed, there must have been here, too, a tolerable amount of civilisation; but at the present day turkomans house themselves there, and upon their steps follow everywhere ruin and desolation. [footnote : some said that this name designates merely the fortress. it may have been formerly a place of importance, for numerous ruins in the interior and in the environs indicate a bygone civilisation.] the djemshidi insist that they spring from djemshid, the fabulous king of the pishdadian family--a pretension naturally subject to doubt! they are, however, certainly of persian descent. this is indicated not so much by their dialect as by their pure irani type { } of physiognomy; for it is retained amongst these nomads more faithfully than anywhere else, except in the southern provinces of persia. cast for centuries upon the extreme limit of persian nationality, their numbers have melted away in consequence of constant warfare. they count now no more than about eight or nine thousand tents. the inhabitants live in a state of great destitution, scattered over the above-named valley and neighbouring mountains. as will be seen in the history of khiva, a great part of them were forced by allahkuli khan to quit their country, and form a colony in that khanat, where a new place of settlement was marked out for them in a fertile district (köktcheg), abundantly watered by the oxus. the change was for the better; but their irresistible attachment to their old mountainous homes led them to return thither. and there they still are located as new settlers, under no very brilliant circumstances. in dress, manner of life, and character, the djemshidi resemble the turkomans. their forays are just as much dreaded as those of the latter; but they cannot be so frequent, on account of the inferiority of their number. at present their khans (they have two, mehdi khan and allahkuli khan) are notoriously vassals of the afghans, and well recompensed as such by the serdar of herat. the afghans, even in the time of dost mohammed khan, took every possible step to win to their side the djemshidi, in order, in the first place, to have in them a constant barrier-guard on the northern boundary of the murgab against the incursions of the maymenes; and, secondly, to paralyse the power of the turkomans, of whose friendliness the greatest sacrifices never { } could assure dost mohammed khan. mehdi khan, the chief of the djemshidi, of whom we before spoke, is said, at the siege of herat, to have rendered essential service, and to have consequently gained not only the entire favour of the late emir, but of his successor, the present king, shir ali khan. indeed, the latter left him guardian of his infant son, whom he had placed at the head of affairs in herat. the extension, then, of the afghan territory to the murgab may be styled very precarious, for the djemshidi may, at any moment, break out in open revolt, as they do not admit that the serdar of herat has the shadow of a right to their allegiance, and, least of all, should there be any hesitation or delay in the liquidation of their pay. [ruinous taxes on merchandise] here, as everywhere, our difficulties began and ended with questions respecting the customs. it had been said, all along, that with the left bank of the murgab afghanistan began, and that there the slave tax would cease to be exacted. it was a grievous mistake. the khan of the djemshidi, who treated in person with the kervanbashi concerning the taxes, exacted more for goods, cattle, and slaves than the former claimants, and when the tariff was made known, the consternation, and with many the lamentation, knew no bounds. he even forced the hadjis to pay two francs per ass--an extraordinary charge for all, but for me a very grievous one. but the greatest hardship was that which befell an indian, who had purchased some loads of aniseed in maymene for thirty tenghe. the carriage to herat cost him twenty tenghes per load. he had also, up to this point, paid eleven tenghes for customs, and now he was to pay thirty more, making for expenses about sixty-one tenghes. the enormous duties imposed upon the { } merchant, and with the authority of a sort of law, are a positive hindrance to all commercial transactions; and from the dreadfully tyrannical use made of their power by the princes, the inhabitants are prevented from profiting by the riches of nature that often ripen without any culture in the neighbourhood, and whose produce might bring a very good return, and satisfy the exigencies of domestic life. the mountainous fatherland of the djemshidi has three special kinds of produce to which a genial nature spontaneously gives birth, and which, belonging to no one, may be gathered by the hand of the first comer. these are:--( ) pistachio nuts: ( ) buzgundj, a sort of nut used for dyeing: it is a produce of the pistachio tree. of the former, a batman costs half a franc, and of the latter, from six to eight francs. ( ) terendjebin, a sort of sugary substance collected from a shrub like manna, having no bad flavour, and used in the making of sugar in herat and persia. the mountain badkhiz (the word means 'where the wind rises') is rich in those three articles. the inhabitants are in the habit of collecting them, but the merchants, on account of the enormous subsequent charges, can only pay a small sum for them, and they thus afford but a sorry resource for the poor inhabitants. the djemshidi women make several kinds of stuff of wool and goat's hair, and particularly a sort of cloth called shal, which fetches good prices in persia. we lingered four days on the bank of the murgab, in the vicinity of the ruins. many hours did i spend in wandering by the side of this beautiful light green river, in order to visit the tents that lay scattered about in groups, with old torn pieces of felt for coverings, and presenting altogether a miserable dilapidated { } appearance. in vain did i offer my glass beads, in vain my blessing and nefes. what they stood in need of was not such articles of luxury, but bread. religion itself is here but upon a feeble footing; and as i could not much build upon my character as hadji and dervish, i was obliged to relinquish the intention of a more extensive excursion to marchah, where, according to report, there exist ruins of stone, with munar (towers and pillars) perhaps dating from the time of the parsees. the story did not seem to me very credible; otherwise the english, who had adequate knowledge of herat and its environs, would have made researches. in the uncertainty, i did not care to expose myself to danger. it is reckoned a four days' journey for horses from bala murgab to herat. camels require double the time, for the country is mountainous. our camels could not certainly perform it in less, for they carried loads greater than usual. two high mountainous peaks, visible to the south of murgab, were pointed out to us, and we were told that it would take us two days to reach them. they both bear the name derbend (pass), and are far loftier, narrower, and easier of defence than the pass on the right bank of the murgab, leading to maymene. in proportion as one advances nature assumes a wilder and more romantic appearance. the elevated masses of rock, which form the first derbend, are crowned with the ruins of an ancient fort, the subject of the most varying fables. farther on, at the second derbend, on the bank of the murgab, there are the remains of an old castle. it was the summer residence of the renowned sultan husein mirza, by whose order a stone bridge (pul-taban) was constructed, { } of which traces are still distinguishable. in the time of this, the most civilised sovereign of central asia, the whole of the neighbourhood was in a flourishing state, and many pleasure-houses are said to have existed along the course of the murgab. beyond the second pass we quitted the murgab. the route turned to the right, in a westerly direction, towards a plateau closely adjoining a part of the desert peopled by the salor. here begins the lofty mountain telkhguzar, which it takes three hours to pass over. [kalè no; hezare] towards midnight we halted at a place called mogor, whence next morning we reached the ruins of the former town and fortress, kalè no, now surrounded by a few tents of the hezare. they presented the appearance of still greater poverty than those of the djemshidi. kalè no, as i heard, had been, only fifty years ago, a flourishing town. it had served for a depôt to the karavans betaking themselves from persia to bokhara. the hezare, the then possessors, became overbearing and presumptuous, claimed to give laws to herat, and finally, by engaging in a struggle with this city, became the authors of their own downfall. they even made enemies of the persians by their rivalry with the turkomans in their predatory expeditions in khorasan. the hezare here met with have, owing to their intermixture with the irani, no longer been able to maintain their mongoli type as pure as their brethren in kabul. they are, too, for the most part sunnites, whereas the latter profess everywhere the principles of the rival sect of the shiites. if i am rightly informed, the northern hezare first separated themselves from the southern in the time of nadir { } shah; and the surrounding people forced them to embrace the doctrine of the rival sect (sunnites), at least in part. it is said that the hezare [footnote ] were brought by djenghis khan from mongolia, their ancient seat, to the southern parts of central asia, and shah abbas was the cause of their conversion to shiism. it is remarkable that they have exchanged their mother-tongue for the persian, which is not generally spoken in the neighbourhood where they dwell. the mongol dialect, or rather a jargon of it, is only preserved by a small portion of them who have remained isolated in the mountains near herat, where they have for centuries been occupied as burners of charcoal. they style themselves, as well as the place they inhabit, gobi. [footnote : the hezare were styled berber in persia, a word used to designate the city shehri-berber, said to have existed on the mountains between kabul and herat, and of whose ancient grandeur, splendour, and magnificence wonders are recounted. burnes says, in his work upon kabul (p. ), that 'the remains of this imperial city of the same name (berber) are still to be seen.'] baba khan, the chief of the hezare of kalè no, ought at least from his poverty and weakness to acknowledge the supremacy of herat, which is only at a distance of two days' journey. this was not the case; he also assumed the air of an independent prince. hardly had our karavan settled down near the ruins, when his majesty appeared in person and demanded his customs: this gave rise to fresh quarrels and disputes. the kervanbashi insisted upon sending an express to the serdar of herat to complain; the threat produced its effect, and instead of duties a famous sum was exacted for whip-money; and in levying it, the godless khan not even allowing the hadjis to escape, i was obliged to pay again for my ass the sum of two francs. { } the merchants made here a large purchase of pistachio nuts and berek, a light cloth for the fabrication of which the hezare women are renowned, and is employed throughout the whole of the north of persia and afghanistan as an overgarment, called chekmen. from kalè no the way again passes over lofty mountains to herat; the distance is only twenty miles, but the journey is very fatiguing, and requires four days for its accomplishment. the first day's halt was at a village called alvar, near the ruins of the robber-castle where shir ali hezareh housed himself. the second day we passed by the summit serabend, covered with everlasting snows, and where we suffered severely from frost, in spite of the immense masses of wood which we lighted to warm us. the third day, we descended continually: there are some very dangerous places, the path passing close to the edge of the precipice being only a foot broad; a false step may plunge man and camel down into the ravine below. we reached, however, without accident, the valley at sertcheshme, whence, it is believed, springs a strong stream, that after bathing herat on the north side falls into the heri-rud. on the fourth day we arrived at kerrukh, which belongs to herat, and is distant from it four miles. [afghan exactions and maladministration.] herat was still besieged by dost mohammed khan when the karavan had set out for bokhara in the spring. six months had now elapsed, the report of their native city having been taken and plundered had reached them, and the reader may imagine the anxiety felt by every herati to seek his house, property, family { } and friends! notwithstanding this, all were forced to wait here another day, until the officer of the customs, whose appearance on the scene, with his arrogant afghan air, took us early in the morning by surprise, had got ready an exact list of all that had come and everything they had brought with them. i had pictured to myself afghanistan as a land already half organised, where, through long contact with western influence, at least something of order and civilisation had been introduced. i flattered myself that i was upon the eve of getting rid at once of my disguise and sufferings. i was cruelly deceived. the afghan functionary, the first whom i had yet seen of that nation, threw into the shade all the inhumanity and barbarity of similar officers in central asia; all the dreadful things i had heard about the searches as to customs amongst the afghans was only a painting 'couleur de rose' compared with what i here witnessed. the bales of goods that owners would not open were sent under guard to the town; the baggage of the travellers was examined and written down article by article; in spite of the coldness of the weather, every one was obliged to strip, and with the exception of shirt, drawers, and upper garment, every object of dress was declared liable to duty. the brute taxed the hadjis most severely, he did not even spare their little stock of haberdashery; and, what is unheard of, he exacted five krans per head for the asses, animals for which so much had been already paid for duty, and which were themselves worth from twenty to twenty-five krans. as many were really so poor as to be unable to pay, he caused their asses to be sold; this revolting proceeding wrung me very hard; it left me, in fact, almost without resources. { } towards evening, when we thought that the plundering was over, the governor of kerrukh, who has the rank of a mejir, [footnote ] made his appearance also to receive his whip-money. he was somewhat exacting, too, but his genuine soldier-like bearing, and his uniform buttoned tight over his chest (the first object that had greeted my eyes for so long a time that recalled european associations), produced upon me an indescribably cheering impression. even now i laugh at the pettiness of my feelings, but i could not regard with indifference the end of the entire jest of which i had been the author. bator khan (that was his name) had remarked my look of surprise. this made him regard me more attentively; he was struck by my foreign features, and questioned the kervanbashi; directed me to seat myself near him, and treated me with affability and consideration. in the course of the conversation, which he continually turned upon bokhara, he laughed in my face, and yet so that he was not observed by others, as if to congratulate me upon the accomplishment of my object, for he thought that i had been sent upon a mission; and although i persisted in supporting the character i had so long assumed, he extended to me his hand at his departure, and wished to shake mine _à l'anglaise_, but, seeing his design, i anticipated him, raised my arms, and was about to give him a fatiha, when he withdrew laughing. [footnote : mejir corresponds with the english 'major,' from which it is borrowed. i devoted much attention to the words 'djornel' and 'kornel' used by the afghans in their army, until it at last occurred to me that the former sprung from general, and the latter from colonel.] { } next morning our karavan was to enter herat, having spent more than six weeks on the way hither from bokhara, a journey that may be easily accomplished in from twenty to twenty-five days. from the details already furnished, it is apparent that trade on this route is not in a very splendid condition. we will now sum up, in tenghe, the amount paid altogether for slaves, goods, and cattle at the different places:-- _paid in tenghe at centimes each._ name of paid for for horses asses slaves the place bales of camels goods kerki andkhuy maymene almar -- fehmguzar kalè veli -- murgab kalè-no -- kerrukh -- total when we say, besides, that the interest of money at herat is twenty per cent., we may form an idea of what the selling price must be to remunerate the merchant for his trouble! { } chapter xiv. herat. herat its ruinous state bazaar author's destitute condition the serdar mehemmed yakoub khan parade of afghan troops interview with serdar conduct of afghans on storming herat nazir naim the vizir embarrassed state of revenue major todd mosalla, and tomb of sultan husein mirza tomb of khodja abdullah ansaei, and of dost mohammed khan. [greek text] ---isidori characeni, _mansiones parthicae, , apud müller. geograph. gr. minores_. [herat; its ruinous state] the traveller approaching from the north will certainly be surprised when, on turning round the mountain khodja abdullah ansari, he sees lying before him the beautiful immense plain called djölghei herat, with its numerous canals and scattered groups of villages. although trees, the principal ornament of every landscape, are here entirely wanting, he cannot but be convinced that he has reached the bounds of turkestan, and with it of central asia, properly so called; for of this herat is rightly named the gate, or key. without going so far as the orientals, in styling it 'djennetsifat' (like paradise), we cannot, nevertheless, deny to the surrounding country the character of loveliness and of fertility. its natural advantages, { } united with its political importance, have unhappily made it an apple of discord to adjoining nations, and when we consider the wars that have here been carried on, and the frequent sieges that the city has had to support, it is astonishing to us how rapidly the wounds inflicted seem to have scarred over. only two months before we arrived, hordes of wild afghans had here housed themselves, scattering desolation and devastation in every direction, and yet, even now, fields and vineyards looked flourishing, and the meadows were covered with high grass mixed with flowers. like all cities in the east, it has both ancient and modern ruins; and here, as everywhere else, we must pronounce the former the more beautiful and the nobler. the remains of the monuments on the mosalla (place of prayer), remind us of the ruins of the ancient city of timour; the round towers lying scattered singly about look like the immediate environs of ispahan; but the city, and the fortress itself, in the state in which i saw it, form a ruin such as we rarely meet with, even in the east. [bazaar] we entered by the gate dervaze arak. the houses which we passed, the advanced works, the very gate, looked like a heap of rubbish. near the latter, in the inside of the city, is the ark (citadel) having, from its elevation, served as a mark for the afghan artillery; it lies there blasted and half demolished. the doors and windows have been stripped of their woodwork, for during the siege the inhabitants suffered most from the scarcity of fuel. in the bare openings of the walls are perched here and there a few wretched-looking afghans or hindoos--worthy guards of such a ruin. each step we advance, we see greater indications of devastation. entire quarters of the { } town remain solitary and abandoned. the bazaar--that is to say, the arched part of it, where the quadrangle of the bazaar is united by its dome, and which has witnessed and resisted so many sieges--alone remains, and affords, in spite of its new population, dating only from three months ago, a really interesting sample of oriental life--a blending of the characteristics of india, persia, and central asia, better defined than even in the bazaar of bokhara. it is only from the karavanserai hadji resul to that of no that a throng, rightly so called, exists; and although the distance is small, the eye is bewildered by the diversity of races--afghans, indians, tartars, turkomans, persians, and jews. the afghan parades about, either in his national costume, consisting of a long shirt, drawers, and dirty linen clothes, or in his military undress; and here his favourite garment is the red english coat, from which, even in sleep, he will not part. he throws it on over his shirt, whilst he sets on his head the picturesque indo-afghan turban. others again, and these are the _beau monde_, are wont to assume a half persian costume. weapons are borne by all. rarely does any one, whether civil or military, enter the bazaar without his sword and shield. to be quite _à la mode_, one must carry about one quite an arsenal, consisting of two pistols, a sword, poniard, hand-jar, gun, and shield. with the wild martial-looking afghan we can only compare the turkomanlike djemshidi. the wretchedly-dressed herati, the naked hezare, the teymuri of the vicinity, are overlooked when the afghan is present. he encounters around him nothing but abject humility; but never was ruler or conqueror so detested as is the afghan by the herati. { } the bazaar itself, dating from herat's epoch of splendour, the reign of the sultan husein mirza, and consequently about four hundred years old, deserved still, even in its ruins, the epithet beautiful. it is said, in earlier times, to have formed an entire street, from the dervaze arak to the dervaze kandahar. [footnote ] of course, at present, the shops in the bazaar begin to open again, but only by degrees. the last siege and plundering of the city could not fail to prove a great discourager. indeed, under the rapacious system of duties introduced by the afghans, trade and manufacture have little prosperity opened to them; for it is extraordinary, indeed incredible, what taxes are extorted from both seller and purchaser, upon every article that is sold. they seem, besides, to be regulated by no fixed scale, but to be quite arbitrary. one has to pay a duty, for instance, for a pair of boots that has cost originally five francs, one and a half francs; for a cap, worth two francs, one franc; for a fur that has been purchased for eight francs, three francs; and so on. every article imported or exported is stamped by tax-collectors, having offices in the bazaar and in different parts of the city. [footnote : unlike the other gates this one suffered little during the siege. the herati pretend that it can never he demolished, because built by the english, who lay brick over brick only as justice directs, unlike the afghans, who mix the mortar with the tears of oppression.] the original inhabitants of the city were persians, and belonging to the race that spread itself from sistan towards the north-east, and formed the ancient province of khorasan, of which, until recent days, that remained the capital. in later times, the immigrations, of which djenghis and timour were the cause, { } led to the infusion of turco-tartaric blood into the veins of the ancient population. the collective name char-aimak is the result, as well as the subdivision of the people into the djemshidi, firuzkuhi, teïmeni or timouri. these are races of different origin, and can only from a political point of view be regarded as one single nation. thus far of the inhabitants of the djölghei herat. the fortress itself is inhabited, for the most part, by persians, who settled here in the last century, to maintain and spread the influence of their own country. they are now principally handicraftsmen or merchants. as for afghans, one cannot find in the city more than one in five. they have become quite persians, and are, particularly since the last siege, very hostile to their own countrymen. a kabuli, or a kaker from kandahar, is as much regarded by him in the light of an oppressor, and therefore is as much detested, as by the aboriginal natives of herat. the diversified throngs i encountered in herat produced a pleasing effect upon me. the afghan soldiery in the english uniform, with shako--a covering for the head contrary to the prescriptions of the koran, and the introduction of which into the turkish army is regarded as impracticable [footnote ]--seemed { } to lead to the conclusion that i had fallen upon a land where islamite fanaticism had lost its formidable character, and where i might gradually discontinue my disguise. and when i saw many soldiers moving about with moustaches shaved off, and wearing whiskers--an appendage regarded as a deadly sin in islam, and even in constantinople as a renunciation of their religion--the hope seized me that perhaps i might meet here english officers; and how happy i should have considered myself to have found some son of britain, whose influence, without doubt, from political circumstances, would have been here very great. i had, for the moment, forgotten that the oriental is never what he seems, and my disappointment was, indeed, bitter. [footnote : the osmanli insist that according to the sunnet (tradition), siper (a head-covering with a peak), and zunnar (the cord round the loins of monks), are most rigorously forbidden as signs of christianity. sultan mahmoud ii., on introducing into turkey for the first time a militia formed on the model of the european, was very desirous of substituting the shako for the highly inappropriate fez, but the destroyer of the janissaries did not venture to carry his wish into execution, for he would have been declared an _apostate_ even by his best friends.] [author's destitute condition] as i before remarked, my finances had melted away positively to nothing. i was obliged, on entering herat, to sell at once even the ass upon which i rode. the poor brute, being quite worn out with his journey, brought me only twenty-six krans, out of which i was obliged to pay the tax upon the sale, and other little debts. the state in which i found myself was very critical. the want of bread admitted of remedy; but the nights had become quite cold, and in spite of my being inured to a life of hardship, my sufferings were great, when i slept in an open ruin, with scanty clothing, and on the bare earth. the thought that persia might be reached in ten days cheered me up. still, it was not so easy an enterprise to arrive thither. to go alone was impossible, and the karavan, preparing to go to meshed, wished to wait still for an increase of travellers, and a more favourable opportunity; for the tekke turkomans not only rendered the journey exceedingly { } unsafe, but plundered villages and karavans, and carried off captives before the very gates of herat. during the first days of my arrival, i heard that a persian envoy, named mehemmed bakir khan, sent by the governor prince of khorasan to congratulate the young serdar of herat, proposed soon to return to teheran. i immediately waited upon him, and begged him to take me with him. the persian was very polite; but although i repeated to him over and over again the state of destitution in which i was, he paid no attention to that statement, and asked me (the dreadfully disfigured hadji), if i had brought back with me any fine horses from bokhara! every word of his seemed to indicate a wish on his part to penetrate my secret. seeing that i had nothing to expect, i left him. he quitted herat soon after, accompanied by many of the hadjis who had travelled with me from samarcand and kerki. all abandoned me--all but mollah ishak, my faithful companion from kungrat, who had believed, when i said that in teheran better fortunes awaited me, and who stood by me. the honest young man obtained our daily food and fuel by begging, and got ready besides our evening supper, which he even refused respectfully to share with me out of the same plate. mollah ishak forms, in another point of view, one of the most interesting of my episodes. he lives now, at this day, in pesth, instead of being at mecca, and in the sequel of my narrative we shall have occasion to speak of him. [the serdar mehemmed yakoub khan; parade of afghan troops] not to neglect any expedient to forward my journey on to meshed, i went to the reigning prince, serdar mehemmed yakoub khan, son of the present king of afghanistan, a lad in his sixteenth year, who had been placed at the head of affairs in the conquered { } province, his father, immediately after his accession to the throne, having been obliged to hasten away to kabul, in order to prevent any steps being taken by his brothers to contest the throne with him. the young prince resided in the charbag, in the palace which had also served for the dwelling of major todd. it had, it is true, suffered much during the siege, but was naturally preferred, as a residence, to the citadel, which was a mere ruin. one part of that quadrangular court, a garden as they were in the habit of calling it, although i saw in it only a few trees, served as night quarters for him and his numerous retinue, whilst in the portions situate on the opposite side an arz (public audience) of four or five hours' duration was held in a large long hall. the prince was generally seated at the window in an armchair, dressed in military uniform, with high collars; and as the numerous petitioners, whom he was obliged officially to receive, very much wearied him, he made the risale company (the _élite_ of the afghan troops) exercise before his window, and seemed highly delighted with the wheeling of the columns, and the thundering word of command of the officer passing them in review, who, besides, pronounced the 'right shoulder forward! left shoulder forward!' with a genuine english accent. [interview with serdar] when i stepped into the court i have mentioned, accompanied by mollah ishak, the drill was at its most interesting point. the men had a very military bearing, far better than the ottoman army, that was so drilled forty years ago. these might have been mistaken for european troops, if most of them had not had on their bare feet the pointed kabuli shoe, and had not had their short trousers so tightly { } stretched by their straps that they threatened every moment to burst and fly up above the knee. after having watched the exercises a short time, i went to the door of the reception-hall, which was filled by a number of servants, soldiers, and petitioners. if all made way for me, and allowed me undisturbed to enter the saloon, i had to thank the large turban i had assumed (my companion had assumed a similar one), as well as the 'anchorite' appearance which my wearisome journey had imparted. i saw the prince as i have described; on his right hand sat his vizir, and next to him there were ranged along against the wall other officers, mollahs and heratis; amongst these there was also a persian, imamverdi khan, who on account of some roguery had fled hither from (djam) meshed. before the prince stood his keeper of the seal (möhürdar), and four or five other servants. true to my dervish character, on appearing i made the usual salutation, and occasioned no surprise to the company when i stepped, even as i made it, right up to the prince, and seated myself between him and the vizir, after having required the latter, a corpulent afghan, to make room for me by a push with the foot. this action of mine occasioned some laughing, but it did not put me out of countenance. i raised my hands to repeat the usual prayer required by the law. [footnote ] whilst i was repeating it, the prince looked me full in the face. i saw his look of amazement, and when i was repeating the amen, and all present were keeping time with me in stroking their beards, the prince half rose from his chair, and, pointing { } with his finger to me, he called out, half laughing and half bewildered, 'vallahi, billahi schuma, inghiliz hestid' ('by g--, i swear you are an englishman!'). [footnote : this is in arabic, and to the following effect: 'god our lord, let us take a blessed place, for of a verity thou art the best quartermaster.'] a ringing peal of laughter followed the sudden fancy of the young king's son, but he did not suffer it to divert him from his idea; he sprang down from his seat, placed himself right before me, and, clapping both his hands like a child who has made some lucky discovery, he called out, 'hadji, kurbunet' ('i would be thy victim'), 'tell me, you are an englishman in tebdil (disguise), are you not?' his action was so naïve, that i was really sorry that i could not leave the boy in his illusion. i had cause to dread the wild fanaticism of the afghans, and, assuming a manner as if the jest had gone too far, i said, 'sahib mekun' ('have done'); 'you know the saying, "he who takes, even in sport, the believer for an unbeliever, is himself an unbeliever." [footnote ] give me rather something for my fatiha, that i may proceed further on my journey.' my serious look, and the hadis which i recited, quite disconcerted the young man; he sat down half ashamed, and, excusing himself on the ground of the resemblance of my features, said that he had never seen a hadji from bokhara with such a physiognomy. i replied that i was not a bokhariot, but a stambuli; and when i showed him my turkish passport, and spoke to him of his cousin, the son of akbar khan, djelal-ed-din khan, who was in mecca and constantinople in , and had met with a distinguished reception from the sultan, his manner quite changed; my passport went the round of the company, and met with approbation. the prince gave me some krans, { } and dismissed me with the order that i should often visit him during my stay, which i accordingly did. [footnote : traditional sentence of the prophet.] [illustration] 'i swear you are an englishman! however fortunate the issue of this amusing proceeding, it had still some consequences not very agreeable, as far as my continued stay in herat was concerned. following the prince's example, every one wanted to detect in me the englishman. persians, afghans, and herati came to me with the express purpose of convincing themselves and verifying their suspicions. the most boring fellow was a certain hadji sheikh mehemmed, an old man rejoicing in the reputation of being a great astrologer and astronomer, and really, as far as opportunity enabled me to judge, one well read in arabic and persian. he informed me that he had travelled with mons. de khanikoff, and had been of much service to him in herat, and that the latter had given him a letter to the russian ambassador in teheran, of which he wished me to take charge. in vain did i try to persuade the good old man, that i had nothing to do with the russians; he left me with his convictions unshaken. but what was most droll was the conduct of the afghans and persians; they thought they saw in me a man _à la_ eldred pottinger, who made his first entry into herat disguised as a horsedealer, and became later its master. they insisted that i had a credit here for hundreds, even thousands, of ducats, and yet no one would give me a few krans to purchase bread! ah, how long the time seemed that i had to pass in herat waiting for the karavan! the city had a most gloomy troubled aspect; the dread of their savage conqueror was painted on the features of its inhabitants. the incidents of the last siege, its capture and plundering, formed the constant subjects of conversation. { } [conduct of afghans on storming herat] according to the assertions of the herati (which are, however, not founded in fact), dost mohammed khan took the fortress, not by the bravery of the kabuli, but by the treason of the garrison; they insist, too, that the beloved prince sultan ahmed was poisoned, and that his son shanauvaz, who is almost deified by the herati, did not obtain information of the treachery before a great part of the paltan (soldiers) had already forced their way into the fortress. the struggle carried on by the besieged prince with his angry father-in-law was of the bitterest description, the sufferings borne and inflicted were dreadful, but worst of all were the sacking and plundering that took place unexpectedly some days after the actual capture, when many fugitive herati returned with their property into the city. four thousand afghan soldiers, chosen expressly for the purpose from different tribes and regiments, rushed at a given signal, and from different sides of the city, upon the defenceless habitations, and are said not only to have carried off clothing, arms, furniture, whatever in fact met their eye, but forced every one to strip himself almost to a state of nudity, and to have left the half-naked tenants behind them in their thoroughly denuded and emptied houses. they tore away even from the sick their bedding and clothing, and robbed infants of cradles, nay, of the very swathing clothes, valueless but to them! a mollah, who had been robbed of all his books, told me that he had lost sixty of the finest mss.; but the loss he most deplored was that of a koran bequeathed to him by his grandfather. he entreated the plunderer to leave him this one book, from which he promised that he would pray for his despoiler. 'do not trouble thyself,' said the kabuli; { } 'i have a little son at home who shall pray for thee from it. come, give it me.' [nazir naïm the vizir] whoever is acquainted with the covetousness of the filthy grasping afghan, may picture to himself how he would behave in plundering a city. the besiegers levied contributions upon the city during a day, upon the country around during months. these are indeed natural consequences of war, occurring even in civilised countries, and which we will not make the subject of excessive reproach against the afghans. but it is a pity that, instead of seeking to heal the wounds which they have inflicted, their miserable policy seems now to aim at reducing the whole province still further to beggary; so that in a country, where undoubtedly they are called upon to play an important part, they have rendered themselves objects of detestation: for the inhabitants would at once again plunge into a hopeless contest rather than ever acknowledge the supremacy of the afghans. herat, that is said now again to show signs of fresh life, has been left in the hands of a good-humoured inexperienced child. his guardian, the khan of the djemshidi, has an understanding with the turkomans, against whose incursions he ought to protect the country. the alamans extend their depredations to within a few leagues of herat; scarcely does any week elapse without villages being surprised and plundered, and the inhabitants being led away to captivity. the vizir of the prince, named nazir naïm, is a man whose coarse features are, as it were, the sign-post of stupidity; he has in the course of only two months so enriched himself that he has purchased for himself in kabul two houses with vineyards. as the internal affairs of the city and province are left in his hands, he { } is accustomed, during the whole time of his hours of business, to surround himself with litigants and place-hunters. he soon tires, and when questions or petitions are addressed to him respecting the government recently established, to get rid of the wearisome application he has ever ready the stereotyped answer: 'her tchi pish bud' (everything as before). in his absence of mind he returns the same answer when accusations are laid before him of murder or theft; the plaintiff surprised repeats his story, but obtains the eternal answer, 'her tchi pish bud,' and so he must retire. [embarrassed state of revenue; major todd] a striking proof of the confusion that pervades everything is the circumstance, that in spite of unheard-of duties, in spite of endless imposts, the young serdar cannot raise out of the revenues of the province of herat a sum sufficient to defray the expenses of the civil functionaries and the garrison of fourteen hundred men. mr. eastwick [footnote ] reports, according to a statement made by the prince governor of the province of khorasan, that the income of herat amounts yearly to , toman ( , _l_.), but from this sum are to be maintained, besides the corps of civilians, five regiments of infantry, and about , cavalry, for which purpose the amount given is clearly insufficient. with a larger income, herat of the present day has far fewer expenses; the terrified city is easily governed; and it can only be ascribed to maladministration that a subvention is required from kabul to defray the expenses of the troops. { } had dost mohammed only lived a year longer to consolidate the government of the newly-conquered province, the incorporation of herat with afghanistan might have been possible. as it is, fear alone keeps things together. it needs only some attack, no matter by whom, to be made upon herat, for the herati to be the first to take up arms against the afghans. nor does this observation apply to the shiite inhabitants alone, whose sympathies are, of course, in favour of persia, but even to those of the sunnite persuasion, who would certainly prefer the kizilbash to their present oppressors; but i find no exaggeration in the opinion that they long most for the intervention of the english, whose feelings of humanity and justice have led the inhabitants to forget the great differences in religion and nationality. the herati saw, during the government of major todd, more earnestness and self-sacrifice with respect to the ransoming of the slaves [footnote ] than they had ever even heard of before on the part of a ruler. their native governments had habituated them to be plundered and murdered, not spared or rewarded. [footnote : 'journal of a diplomate's three years' residence in persia,' vol. ii. p. .] [footnote : the report is general in herat that stoddart was sent on a mission to bokhara to ransom the herati there pining in captivity.] [mosalla, and tomb of sultan husein mirza; tomb of khodja abdullah ansari, and of dost mohammed khan.] two days before my departure, i suffered an afghan to persuade me to make an excursion to a village in the vicinity named gazerghiah, to pay a visit there to the tombs of khodja abdullah ansari, and of dost mohammed khan, in order, as it is said, to kill two flies with one blow. on the way i paid my parting visit to the fine ruins of mosalla. the remains of the mosque and of the sepulchre, which the great sultan husein mirza, caused to be built for { } himself ten years before his death ( ), are, as i before mentioned, an imitation of the monuments of samarcand. [footnote ] time would have long spared these works of art, but they suffered shamefully during the last two sieges, when the place became the quarters of shiite fanaticism. it is to be regretted that european officers, like general borowsky and general bühler--the former a pole, the latter an alsatian, and both present in those campaigns, could not interfere to prevent such acts of vandalism. gazerghiah itself, at a league's distance from herat, and visible, by its position on a hill from that city, has many monuments of interest in sculpture and architecture. they date from the epoch of shahrookh mirza, a son of timour, and have been described at large by ferrier, but with some slight mistakes, which one readily excuses in an officer who travels. the name of the saint at gazerghiah, for instance, is khodja abdullah ansari--the latter word signifying that he was an arab, and of the tribe that shared the hidjra (flight) with the prophet. more than six hundred years ago, he passed from bagdad to merv, thence to herat, where he died, and was declared a saint. he now stands in high repute as patron of both city and province. dost mohammed khan directed himself to be buried at the feet of khodja abdullah ansari, at once flattering the prejudices of his countrymen { } and offending those of his enemies. the grave, which lies between the walls of the adjoining edifice and the sepulchre of the khodja, had when i saw it no decoration, and not even a stone; for his son and successor preferred first to lay the foundation of his inheritance before completing the tomb of him who had bequeathed it to him. this does not, however, prevent the afghans from performing their reverential pilgrimages. the saint will, before long, be thrown into the shade by his mighty rival; and yet he has but his deserts, for he is probably one of the numerous arabian vagabonds, but dost mahommed khan was the founder of the afghan nation. [footnote : the sepulchre particularly has much resemblance to that of timour. the decorations and inscriptions upon the tomb are of the most masterly sculpture it is possible to conceive. many stones have three inscriptions carved out, one above the other, in the finest sulus writing, the upper line, the middle one, and lower one, forming different verses.] { } chapter xv. from herat to london. author joins karavan for meshed kuhsun, last afghan town false alarm from wild asses debatable ground between afghan and persian territory bifurcation of route yusuf khan hezareh ferimon colonel dolmage prince sultan murad mirza author avows who he is to the serdar of herat shahrud teheran, and welcome there by the turkish charge d'affaires, ismael efendi kind reception by mr. alison and the english embassy interview with the shah the kavvan ud dowlet and the defeat at merv return by trebisond and constantinople to pesth author leaves the khiva mollah behind him at pesth and proceeds to london his welcome in the last-named city. _'tis sweet to hear the watch-dog's honest bark bay deep-mouth'd welcome as we draw nigh home_.--byron. [author joins karavan for meshed; kuhsun, last afghan town] on the th november , i quitted herat, the gate of central asia or of india, as it is usually called, in order to complete my journey with the great karavan bound for meshed. it consisted of , persons; half of whom were hezare from kabul, who in the greatest poverty and the most abject state of misery were undertaking with wives and children a pilgrimage to the tombs of shiite saints. although all formed one body, it had nevertheless many subdivisions. i was attached to a division consisting { } of a troop of afghans from kandahar, who were trading with persia in indigo or skins from kabul, owing to my having made my agreement with the same djilodar. i had been able to persuade him to allow me to take my seat on a lightly-loaded mule, under the engagement that i would pay him in meshed as if i had had the sole use of it. by the pretension, now avowed by me, that in meshed i should no longer be in a state of destitution, i began for the first time myself to throw a doubt upon the genuineness of the character i had hitherto assumed of a hadji, but i did not dare completely to lay aside the mask, because the afghans, more fanatical than the bokhariots, would have probably avenged their insulted tenets upon the spot. the dubious light in which i stood afforded, however, a fund of interesting surmises to those by whom i was surrounded, for whilst some of them took me for a genuine turk, others were disposed to think me an englishman; the different parties even quarrelled on the subject, and it was very droll to observe how the latter began to triumph over the former, when it was observed that, in proportion as we drew nearer to meshed, the bent posture of humility of the dervish began more and more to give way to the upright and independent deportment of the european. some afghans, agents of wholesale indigo-houses in moultan and shikarpur, seemed quite to accommodate themselves to my metamorphosis; for although, whilst still in the district of herat, they vaunted their characters of gazi (men who have taken part in the war against the english), and boasted in the most extravagant manner of the victory in kabul, they confided to me as we drew near { } to meshed that they were english subjects, and urged me to introduce them to the vekil dowlet (english consular agent), as his influence and protection would be of great service to them in their commercial affairs; and this they did without the slightest blush of shame. the oriental is born and dies in a mask; candour will never exist in the east. our way passed by nukre, kale sefer khan, ruzenek, shebesh and kuhsun. at shebesh the woody country begins, which extends along the bank of the heri, and often serves the turkomans for a retreat. in kuhsun, where the territory of herat ends, we were obliged to stay two days, to pay the last afghan duties. [false alarm from wild asses] on the second day we saw from the tower of the karavanserai an immense cloud of dust approaching the village. 'the turkomans!' 'the turkomans!' was the cry on all sides. the consternation in karavan and village beggars all description: at last, the cloud coming closer, we saw an immense squadron of wild asses, at some hundred paces' distance; they wheeled round and vanished from our eyes in the direction of the desert. [debatable ground between afghan and persian territory; bifurcation of route; yusuf khan hezareh] from this point to the persian frontier, which commences at kahriz and taybad, lies a district without claimant or owner, over which from north to south as far as khaf, kaïn, and even bihrdjan, the tekke, salor, and sarik send forth their alamans: these, consisting of hundreds of riders, fall unawares upon villages and hurry off with them into captivity, inhabitants and herds of cattle. in spite of its size, our karavan was further strengthened by an escort of all the men in kuhsun capable of bearing arms. at kafirkale we met another karavan coming from meshed. i learnt { } that colonel dolmage, an english officer in the persian service, whom i had known before, was in the latter city. the tidings were a source of great satisfaction to me. after kafirkale we came to the karavanserai dagaru, where the route divides into two, the one going by kahriz and türbeti sheikh djam through a plain, the other, by taybad, riza, shehrinow; the latter is very mountainous, and consequently the less dangerous of the two. the principal part of the karavan proceeded along the former, whereas we were obliged to take the latter, as it was the pleasure of the afghans that we should do so. our way passed from taybad through a waste deserted country named bakhirz (perhaps bakhiz), inhabited by the sunnite hezare, who migrated hither from kalè no. there are five stations before reaching the plain of kalenderabad. in shehrinow i met the sertib (general), yusuf khan, a hezare chief, in the pay of persia, and nevertheless its bitterest enemy. the policy of sending him to the frontier was in one respect good, as the hezare are the only 'tribe capable of measuring themselves' with the turkomans, and at the same time objects of dread to them: but in another point of view it may be doubted how far it is judicious, in the danger that menaces persia on the side of the afghans, to make use of enemies to guard the frontiers. [ferimon] from shehrinow we proceeded over himmetabad and kelle munar, [footnote ]which is a station situate on the top of a mountain, consisting merely of a single tower, built as a precaution against surprises. the severe cold occasioned us much suffering, but the next day { } we reached ferimon, the first place we had come to whose inhabitants were persians. here a warm stable made me forget for some time the sufferings of many days past. at last, on the twelfth day after our departure from herat, the gilded dome of the mosque and tomb of imam riza glittering from afar announced to me that i was approaching meshed, the city for which i had so longed. that first view threw me into a violent emotion, but i must admit not so great as i expected to have experienced on the occasion. without seeking to exaggerate the dangers that had attended my undertaking, i may speak of this point as the date of my regeneration; and is it not singular, that the reality of a liberation from a state of danger and restraint soon left me perfectly indifferent, and when we were near the gates of the city i forgot turkomans, desert, tebbad, everything! [footnote : the word signifies 'hill of skulls.'] [colonel dolmage] half an hour after my arrival, i paid a visit to colonel dolmage, who filled many important offices here for the prince-governor, and stood in high estimation everywhere. he was still engaged in his official place of business, when his servants summoned him to me; they announced me as a singular dervish from bokhara. he hastened home, regarded me fixedly for a long time, and only when i began to speak did he recognise me, and then his warm embrace and tearful eye told me that i had found not only a european, but a friend. the gallant englishman offered me his house, which i did not reject, and i have to thank his hospitality that i so far recovered from the hardships of my journey as to be able, in spite of the winter, in a month's time to continue my journey to teheran. { } [prince sultan murad mirza] colonel dolmage introduced me also, during my stay in meshed, to the prince-governor, sultan murad mirza, the uncle of the reigning shah. this prince, the son of that abba mirza, whose english predilections are so well known, is surnamed 'the kingdom's naked sword;' [footnote ] and he deserves the title, for it is to be ascribed only to his constant watchfulness and energy that khorasan, under his administration, has not suffered more from the incursions of the turkomans, and that the roads begin everywhere to assume an appearance of bustle and animation. i paid him several visits, and was always received with particular kindness and affability. we conversed for hours together respecting central asia, upon which subject he is tolerably well informed. his delight was great when i related to him how the bigoted and suspicious emir of bokhara, who styles himself, to the disgust of all the shiites, 'prince of the true believers,' [footnote ] had suffered himself to be blessed by me. [footnote : 'husam es saltanat.'] [footnote : emir-ul-muminim, a title ascribed by the shiites to ali alone.] to the praises rightly bestowed upon sultan murad mirza by m. de khanikoff and mr. eastwick, i will only add that in point of energy, sound judgment, and patriotism, there are few who resemble him in persia, or scarcely even in turkey; but, alas! it is not a single swallow that makes a summer, and his abilities will never find a worthy field of exertion in persia. [author avows who he is to the serdar of herat] on account of the scantiness of my european wardrobe, i was obliged to continue my turban as well as my oriental dress, both in meshed and during the remainder of my journey to teheran; but, as the { } reader will very well understand, i had said adieu to all disguise as a dervish. my acquaintance with the european officer above mentioned had already told my fellow-travellers sufficiently who and what i was. my character and mission afforded a field to the afghans for the most varying and extravagant conclusions, and, as it was easy for me to perceive that they would soon inform the young prince of herat of the fact, i thought it better at once myself to anticipate them, and make, in the customary form, my own communication. in a letter to the young prince, i congratulated him on his perspicacity, and told him that, although not an englishman, i was next door to one, for that i was a european; that he was an amiable young man, but that i would advise him another time, when any person was obliged by local circumstances to travel incognito through his country, not to seek publicly and rudely to tear off his mask. [shahrud] after having passed christmas with the hospitable english officer whom i have mentioned, i began, on the day following (december ), my journey to teheran without either joining any karavan, or having any companion except my friend the mollah. we were both mounted on good horses, my own property, as were also other articles that we took with us, consisting of culinary vessels and bedding, and, in fact, every possible travelling convenience; and in spite of my having, in the middle of winter, to perform twenty-four stations, i shall never forget the pleasure that i experienced in the journey that brought me, each step that i advanced, nearer to the west, that i loved so well. i even performed without escort the four stations from mezinan to shahrud, where { } persians, from fear of the turkomans, proceed accompanied by pieces of artillery. in the last city i met, in the karavanserai, an englishman from birmingham, who was stopping there to purchase wool and cotton. what was the astonishment of the briton when he heard a man in the dress of a dervish, with an immense turban on his head, greet him in this distant land with a 'how do you do?' in his amazement his countenance assumed all hues; thrice he exclaimed, 'well, i--,' without being able to say more. but a little explanation rid him of his embarrassment; i became his guest, and spent a famous day with him and another european, a well-informed russian, who acted there as agent for the mercantile house of kawkaz. from shahrud i took ten days to reach the persian capital. towards evening on the th of january, , i was at a distance of two leagues, and, singular to say, i lost my way at the village shah abdul azim, owing to the obscurity; and when, after searching about a long time in all directions, i at last reached the gate of the city, i found it shut, and i was obliged to pass the night in a karavanserai at the distance of only a few paces. the next morning i hastened, to avoid being noticed by any one in my droll costume, through the streets of teheran to the turkish embassy. [teheran, and welcome there by the turkish charge d' affaires, ismael efendi; kind reception by mr. alison and the english embassy] the reader will easily understand in what tone of mind i again entered that edifice which, ten months before, i had left with my head full of such vague and adventurous plans. the intelligence that my benefactor haydar efendi had left teheran affected me very much, although his successor, ismael efendi, accredited as _chargé d'affaires_ at the persian court, { } gave me an equally kind and hearty reception. this young turkish diplomatist, well known for his particularly fine breeding and excellent character, rendered me by his amiability eternally his debtor. he immediately vacated for me an entire suite of rooms at the embassy, so that the comforts i enjoyed during two months in teheran made me forget all the hardships and sufferings of my most fatiguing journey; indeed, i soon found myself so strong again that i felt capable of commencing a similar tour. no less kindness and favour awaited me at the english embassy. the distinguished representative of the queen, mr. alison, [footnote ] as well as the two secretaries, messrs. thompson and watson, really rejoiced at the happy and successful termination of my journey; and i have to thank their kind recommendations alone, that on my arrival in england, to publish the narrative of my travels, i met with so much unhoped-for, and i may add, too, so much unmerited support. nor can i omit here also to offer my acknowledgments for the courtesy shown to me by the imperial _chargé d'affaires_, the count rochechouart. [footnote : this gentleman had, by an act of great generosity, the same winter that i returned to teheran, caused much sensation in the persian capital. such a lesson is the best that can be given to orientals, and far more meritorious and pregnant of consequence than all the hypocritical morality of which others make a vaunt.] [interview with the shah; the kavvan ud dowlet and the defeat at merv] the king having expressed a desire to see me, i was officially presented by ismael efendi. the youthful nasr-ed-din shah received me in the middle of his garden. on being introduced by the minister for foreign affairs and the chief adjutant, i was much astonished to find the ruler of all the countries of iran { } watching our approach with an eye-glass, attired in a simple dress, half oriental and half european. [footnote ] after the customary salutations, the conversation was directed to the subject of my journey. the king enquired in turn about all his royal brethren in distant places, and when i hinted at their insignificance as political powers, the young shah could not refrain from a little gasconade, and made an observation aside to his vizir. 'with fifteen thousand men we could have done with them all.' of course, he had quite forgotten the exclamation after the catastrophe at merv: 'kavvam! kavvam! redde mihi meas legiones.' [footnote ] the subject of herat was also touched upon. nasr-ed-din shah questioned me as to the state in which the city was then. i replied that herat was a heap of ashes, and that the herati were praying for the welfare of his majesty of persia. the king caught at once the meaning of my words, and, in the hasty manner of speaking usual with { } him, which reminded me of the fox in the fable, he added, 'i have no taste for such ruined cities.' at the close of my audience, which lasted half an hour, the king expressed his astonishment at the journey i had made, and left me, as a mark of especial favour, the ribbon of the fourth class of the order of the lion and the sun, after which i was obliged to write for him a short summary of my travels. [footnote : the under garments retain for the most part the native cut, the over ones alone follow european fashions--a real picture of our civilisation in the east.] [footnote : the unfortunate campaign against merv, really (as i observed) directed against bokhara, was commanded by an incapable court favourite, bearing the title kavvam eddowlet ('stability of the kingdom'). the disastrous defeat there suffered by the persians at the hands of the tekke is only to be ascribed to this officer's incompetency. he looked upon the turkomans at merv with the same contempt with which varus had contemplated the cherusci in the woods of the teutones, but the persian was too cowardly to face the death of the roman general. neither was his sovereign an augustus. he exclaimed, it is true, 'redde mihi meas legiones,' but he nevertheless allowed himself to be appeased by a payment of , ducats; and the base coward, even at the present day, fills a high post in persia.] [return by trebisond and constantinople to pesth] on the th march, the very same day on which, in the previous year, i had commenced my journey through central asia, i quitted teheran on my route to trebisond by tabris. as far as the latter city we had the finest spring weather, and it is unnecessary for me to say what my feelings were when i called to mind the corresponding date in the past year. then each step in advance took me further towards the haunts of savage barbarism, and of unimaginable dangers; now, each step carried me back nearer to civilised lands, and my own beloved country. i was very much touched by the sympathy which, on my way, i received from europeans, as in tabris, from my distinguished swiss friends, messrs. hanhart & company, and mr. abbot, the english vice-consul; in trebisond, from the italian consul mr. bosio, and also from my learned friend, dr. o. blau, and particularly from herr dragorich, the former the prussian, the latter the austrian consul. all these gentlemen, by their obligingness and friendly reception, bound me to them eternally. they knew the hardships that attend travelling in the east, and their acknowledgment of them is the sweetest reward that can fall to the lot of the traveller. { } as, after having been in kurdistan, i was no longer able to distinguish in the countenance of the osmanli anything oriental, so now i could see in stamboul nothing but, as it were, a gorgeous drop curtain to an unreal eastern existence. i could only indulge myself with a stay of three hours on the shore of the bosphorus. i was glad, however, still to find time to wait upon the indefatigable savant and diplomat baron von prokesh-osten, whose kind counsels with reference to the compilation of my narrative i have kept constantly before my eyes. hence i proceeded to pesth by küstendje, where i left behind me my brother dervish [footnote ] from kungrat, who had accompanied me all the way from samarcand; for the joy of tarrying long in my fatherland was not allowed me, as i was desirous, before the close of the season, of delivering an account of my journey to the royal geographical society of england--an object furthered and obtained for me by the kind recommendations of my friends. i arrived in london on the th of june, , where it cost me incredible trouble to accustom myself to so sudden and extreme a change as that from bokhara to london. [footnote : it is needless for me to picture to the reader how this poor khivite, transplanted by me to the capital of hungary instead of being permitted to proceed to mecca, was amazed, and how he talked! what most astonished him was the good-nature of the frenghis, that they had not yet put him to death, a fate which, drawing his conclusions from the corresponding experience amongst his countrymen, he had apprehended.] wonderful, indeed, is the effect of habit upon men! although i had advanced to the maximum of these extremely different forms of existing civilisation, as it were, by steps and by degrees, still everything appeared to me here surprisingly new, as if what i had { } previously known of europe had only been a dream, and as if, in fact, i were myself an asiatic. my wanderings have left powerful impressions upon my mind. is it surprising, if i stand sometimes bewildered, like a child, in regent street or in the saloons of british nobles, thinking of the deserts of central asia, and of the tents of the kirghis and the turkomans? { } part ii. turkomans khiva bokhara khokand chinese tartary routes agriculture and trade political relations russians and english { } { } chapter xvi. boundaries and division of tribes neither rulers nor subjects deb islam change introduced by the latter only external influence of mollahs construction of nomad tents alaman, how conducted persian cowardice turkoman poets troubadours simple marriage ceremonies horses mounds, how and when formed mourning for dead turkoman descent general points connected with the history of the turkomans their present political and geographical importance. _non se urbibus tenent et ne statis quidem sedibus. ut invitavere pabula, ut cedens et sequens hostis exigit, its res opesque secum trahens, semper castra habitant; bellatrix, libera, indomita._--pomp. mela, de situ orbis, . ii. c. . the turkomans in their political and social relations. boundaries and divisions. the turkomans or türkmen, [footnote ] as they style themselves, inhabit for the most part that tract of desert land which extends on this side of the river oxus, from the shore of the caspian sea to belkh, and from the { } same river to the south as far as herat and astrabad. besides the partially productive soil which they possess along the oxus, murgab tedjend, görghen, and etrek, where they actually busy themselves a little with agriculture, the country of the turkomans comprises that immense awful desert where the traveller may wander about for weeks and weeks without finding a drop of sweet water or the shade of a single tree. in winter the extreme cold and the thick snow, in summer the scorching heat and the deep sand, present equal dangers; and storms only so far differ from each other in these different seasons, as the graves that they prepare for the karavans are dry or moist. [footnote : this word is compounded of the proper name türk, and the suffix _men_ (corresponding with the english suffix _ship, dom_); it is applied to the whole race, conveying the sense that the nomads style themselves pre-eminently _türks_. the word in use with us, turkoman, is a corruption of the turkish original.] to describe with more exactitude the divisions of the turkomans, we will make use of their own expressions. according to our european ideas, we name their main divisions, stocks or tribes, because we start from the assumption of _one_ entire nationality. but the turkomans, who, as far as history records, never appear united in any single body, mark their principal races by the name khalk (in arabic _people_), and designate them as follows:-- i. tchaudor. ii. ersari. iii. alieli. iv. kara. v. salor. vi. sarik. vii. tekke. viii. göklen. ix. yomut. employing, then, the expression adopted by these nomads themselves, and annexing the corresponding words and significations, we have-- turkoman words. primitive sense. secondary sense. khalk. people. stock or tribe. taife. people. branch. tire. fragment. lines or clans. { } the khalks are divided into taife, and these again into tire. we proceed to touch briefly upon all these main stocks, devoting, however, our particular attention to the tekke, göklen, and yomuts, who are settled to the south, as occasion permitted me to visit and to become more acquainted with these from personal contact. i. tchaudor. these inhabit the southern part of the district between the caspian sea and the aral sea, counting about , tents; their principal tire, or branches, extending from the former sea as far as köhne urgendj, buldumsaz, porszu, and köktcheg in khiva, are-- abdal. bozadji. igdyr. burundjuk. essenlu. sheikh. karatchaudor. ii. ersari. these dwell on the left bank of the oxus, from tschihardschuj as far as belkh. they are divided into twenty taife, and still more numerous tire. the number of their tents is said to amount to from fifty to sixty thousand. as they inhabit for the most part the bank of the oxus, and are tributary to the emir of bokhara, they are often alluded to as the lebab-türkmen, or bank-turkomans. iii. alieli. these, who have their principal seat at andkhoy, form only three little tire, not counting more than three thousand tents. { } iv. kara. a small but exceedingly savage tribe of turkomans, who, for the most part, are found loitering about in the vicinity of certain wells in the great sandy desert between andkhoy and merv. they are pitiless robbers, and are warred against as such by all the surrounding tribes. v. salor. this is the oldest turkoman tribe recorded in history. it was already renowned for its bravery at the time of the arabian occupation. its numbers were then probably greater, for they have suffered very much from incessant wars. they number only eight thousand tents, although it is not ten years since they were in possession of the important point of merve. they are now-a-days supplanted by the tekke in martschah and its vicinity. they consist of the following taife and tire:-- taife. tire. . yalavadj . . . yasz, tiszi, sakar, ordukhodja. . karaman . . . alam, gördjikli, beybölegi. . ana bölegi . . . yadschi, bokkara, bakaschtlöre, timur. vi. sarik. these do not stand in less repute for bravery than the tribe of salor. their numbers, too, are less than they were formerly. at present the sariks [footnote ] inhabit { } the regions about pendschdeh, on the bank of the murgab. with the exception of their neighbours the djemshidi, they are in hostile relations with all the turkomans. they are separated into the following taife and tire:-- _taife. tire._ . khorasanli-- bedeng, khodjali, kizil, huszeïnali. . biradj-- kanlibash, kultcha, szudjan. . sokhti-- tapyr, mumatag, kurd, kadyr. . alascha-- kodjeck, bogadja, huszein kara, szaad, okensziz. . herzegi-- yerki, djanibeg, kurama, jatan, japagy. the number of their tents, i was told, amounts to ten thousand. [footnote : the women of this tribe, sarik, have a peculiar renown as manufacturers of a tissue called agary. it is formed of the hair of the young camel (three or four days old), which, after being boiled in milk, during four or five days acquires an elasticity and consistence as of a silk pulp; this substance they afterwards draw out and weave into the material so called. it is of particular beauty and strength, and is in high esteem, and of great value as a material for forming the overdress of men. it is to be met with in persia, and always fetches high prices.] vii. tekke. these form at this day the greatest and most powerful tribe of the turkomans. they are separated into two principal encampments--the first at akhal (to the east of tedjend), and the second at merv. according to the best accounts, they have sixty thousand tents. possessing less land that is capable of being cultivated than the other turkoman tribes, they are, so to say, almost forced by nature itself to commit acts of robbery, and are a real scourge in the hand of god to the north-easterly portions of persia, to herat and its neighbourhood. i have only been able to ascertain the following subdivisions; there are probably many others:-- { } _taife._ _tire._ . Ötemiscli-- kelletscho, sultansiz, szitschmaz kara ahmed. . bakhshi-- perreng, topaz, körszagry, aladjagöz, tashajak aksefi goh, marsi, zakir, kazilar. . toktamish-- bokburun amanshah, göktche beg, kara, khar, kongor, yussuf, jazi, arik karadja. viii. gÖklen. judging by the position and the relations in which i found these, i am justified in characterising them as belonging to the most peaceable and most civilised turkomans. willingly occupying themselves with the pursuits of agriculture, they are subject, most of them, to the king of persia. they dwell in the lovely region so famed in history, that of the ancient gurgan (now the ruins of shehri djordjan). their branches and clans are as follows:-- _taife._ _tire._ . tshakir-- gökdish, alamet, toramen, khorta, karavul, kösze, kulkara, baynal. . begdlli-- pank, amankhodja, boran, karishmaz. . kayi-- djankurbanli, erkekli, kizil akindjik, tckendji bok khodja kodana lemek kaniasz, dari. . karabalkan-- tshotur, kapan, szigirsiki, pashej, adjibég . kyryk-- giyinlik szufian, dehene karakuzu, tcheke, gökese kabaszakal, ongüt, kongor. . bajindir-- kalaydji, körük, yapagi yadji keszir yasagalik töreng. . gerkesz-- mollalar, kösze ataniyaz mehrem börre. . jangak-- korsüt madjiman, kötü, dizegri, szaridsche, ekiz. . szengrik-- karashur, akshur, kutchi, khar, sheikhbégi. . aj dervisch-- otschu, kodjamaz, dehli, tchikszari, arab, adschem, kandjik. { } these ten branches are said to contain ten thousand tents, a number, perhaps, not exaggerated. ix. yomut. the yomuts inhabit the east shore of the caspian sea and some of its islands. their original appellation is görghen yomudu (yomuts of the görghen). besides these there are the khiva-yomudu (yomuts of khiva), who have chosen for their abode the other end of the desert, close upon the oxus. the particular places in the desert where the yomuts first above mentioned are wont to encamp, beginning to reckon them from the persian frontier upward, are as follows:-- . _khodja nefes_., at the lower mouth of the görghen, an encampment of from forty to sixty tents, furnishes a strong contingent to the audacious pirates that render the persian coast so insecure. . _gömüshtepe_, more particularly a winter quarter, not habitable in summer on account of the prevalence of virulent fevers. it extends, as already mentioned, in the upper mouth of the görghen, which is here tolerably deep, and which, from the wonderful number of fish that it yields, is of great service to this tribe. . _hasankuli_, on the shore of the gulf of this sea, having the same name. this place is densely peopled in summer, and produces tolerably good melons. { } . _etrek_ lies to the left of hasankuli, on the banks of the river of like appellation, which, at a distance of six miles from this place, precipitates itself into the sea. . _tchekishlar_, also a yaylak (summer abode), near to the hill on the sea-shore, named ak tepe. . _tcheleken_, [footnote ] an island only distant a few miles from the continent. the inhabitants are peaceful traders. [footnote : better written tchereken from the persian tchar-ken, the four mines, so called on account of the four principal productions of the island.] the yomuts are divided into the following branches and clans:-- _taife._ _tire._ . atabay-- sehene, düngirtchi, tana kisarka, kesze, temek. . djafer bay, having again two divisions, a. yarali-- iri tomatch, kizil sakalli, arigköseli, tchokkan borkan, onuk tomatch. b. nurali-- kelte, karindjik, gazili kör, hasankululu kör pankötek. . sheref djuni, of whom one part dwells in görghen, and the other in khiva, a. görghen-- karabölke, tevedji, telgay djafer. b. khiva-- oküz, salak, ushak, kodjuk, meshrik, imreli. . ogurdjali-- semedin, ghiray terekme, nedin. the ogurdjali, hardly ever busying themselves with marauding and robbery, refuse to recognise the yomuts as of their tribe, and dealing themselves peaceably with persia, with which they have great activity of commerce, they have become subjects of { } the shah, to whom they pay a yearly tribute of ducats. the persians, however, do not interfere in their internal government. the yomuts themselves are accustomed to count the number of their tents in the aggregate at from forty to fifty thousand. their calculations are as little to be guaranteed as the statements of the other tribes, for the greatness of their numbers always constitutes, with these nomads, a question of national pride. let us now add together the different tribes:-- _tribes._ _no. of tents._ . tchaudor-- , . ersari-- , . alieli-- , . kara-- , . salor-- , . sarik-- , . tekke-- , . göklen-- , . yomut-- , total , reckoning to each tent five persons, we have a sum-total of , souls; and as i have myself diminished the turkoman statements by at least a third, we may regard this as the lowest possible estimate of the whole population. political condition of the turkomans. what surprised me most during my sojourn amongst this people, was my inability to discover any single man among them desirous of commanding, or any individual inclined to obey. the turkoman himself { } is wont to say, 'biz bibash khalk bolamiz (we are a people without a head), and we will not have one. we are all equal, with us everyone is king.' in the political institutions of all the other nomads, we occasionally discover some sign, more or less defined --some shadow of a government, such as the aksakal amongst the turks, the rish sefid amongst the persians, or the sheikh amongst the arabs. amongst the turkomans we find no trace of any such character. the tribes have, it is true, their aksakals; but these are, in effect, merely ministers to each particular circle, standing, to a certain degree, in a position of honourable distraction. they are liked and tolerated so long only as they do not make their supremacy felt by unusual commands or extravagant pretensions. 'how, then,' the reader will enquire, 'can these notorious robbers'--and the savageness of their nature is really unbounded--'live together without devouring each other?' the position in which they stand is really surprising; but what shall we say to the fact that, in spite of all this seeming anarchy, in spite of all their barbarism, so long as enmity is not openly declared, _less robbery and murder, fewer breaches of justice and of morality_, take place amongst them than amongst the other nations of asia whose social relations rest on the basis of islam civilisation? the inhabitants of the desert are ruled, often tyrannised over, by a mighty sovereign, invisible indeed to themselves, but whose presence is plainly discerned in the word 'deb'--_custom, usage_. [footnote : ] [footnote : 'deb' is a word of arabian origin, derived from 'edeb' (morality).] { } among the turkomans the 'deb' is obeyed; everything is practised or abominated according to its injunctions. next to the 'deb' we may refer also, in exceptional cases, to the influence of religion. the latter, however, which came to them from bokhara, where so much fanaticism prevails, is far from being so influential as has been said. it is generally supposed that the turkoman plunders the persian because the latter belongs to the detested sect of the shiites. it is a gross error: i am firmly convinced that the turkoman would still cling to his plundering habits, which the 'deb' sanctions, even if he had for his neighbours the sunnite turks instead of the persians. what i advance derives the strongest confirmation from other considerations--from the frequency of the attacks made by the turkomans upon the countries belonging to sunnites, upon afghanistan, maymene, khiva, and even bokhara. later experience, too, convinced me that the greater number of the slaves in central asia belong to the religious sect of the sunnites. i once put the question to a robber, renowned for his piety, how he could make up his mind to sell his sunnite brothers as slaves, when the prophet's words were, 'kulli iszlam hurre (every musselman is free)'? 'behey!' said the turkoman, with, supreme indifference; 'the koran, god's book, is certainly more precious than man, and yet it is bought or sold for a few krans. what more can you say? yes, joseph, the son of jacob, was a prophet, and was himself sold. was he, in any respect, the worse for that?' { } it is very remarkable how little the 'deb' has suffered in its struggle of eight centuries with mahommedanism. many usages, which are prohibited to the islamite, and which the mollahs make the object of violent attack, exist in all their ancient originality; and the changes effected by islam, not only amongst the turkomans, but amongst all the nomads of middle asia, were rather confined to the external forms of the religion previously existing. what they before found in the sun, fire, and other phenomena of nature, they saw now in allah-mohammed: the nomad is ever the same, now as two thousand years ago; nor is it possible for any change to take place in him till he exchanges his light tent for a substantial house; in other words, till he has ceased to be nomad. to return to the subject of the influence of the aksakals, i may be permitted to remark that these, as my experience amongst the yomuts enables me to say, are, in points of external relations, [footnote ] really fair representatives of the general wishes of the particular tribe; but they are no envoys entrusted with full powers, and how powerless they really are, russia and persia have had many opportunities of learning. these two countries have, at great expense, sought to attach the aksakals to their interest, in order, through them, to put a stop to the habit of plundering and robbery; a policy that up to the present day has had but little success. [footnote : for instance, where persia, russia, or other turkoman tribes not directly allied, are concerned.] the mollahs enjoy greater respect, not so much from being islamites, as from the more general reputation for religion and mystery which attaches to their character, and which is the object of the dread of the { } superstitious nomads. the mollahs, educated in khiva and in bokhara, are cunning people, who from the beginning assume the appearance of holiness, and make off as soon as they have once filled their sacks. but the chief support of the social union is the firm cohesion, not merely of the particular divisions, but of the whole tribe. every turkoman--nay, even the child of four years--knows the taife and tire to which he belongs, and points with a certain pride to the power or to the number of his particular branch, for that really is the shield that defends him from the capricious acts of others; and, indeed, in the event of one member suffering from the hand of violence, the whole tribe is bound to demand satisfaction. with regard to the particular relations of the yomuts with neighbouring tribes and countries, i have found that they live in an inveterate and irreconcilable enmity with the göklen. at the time i was in etrek, negotiations were on foot for a treaty of peace with the tekke, which was a lucky circumstance as far as our journey was concerned. i learned, however, later, that the peace never was concluded: in fact, it may be considered, and particularly by persia, a fortunate circumstance that the union of tribes, in so high a degree warlike, should be impossible; for the provinces of persia, and particularly mazendran, khorasan, and sigistan, are constantly exposed to depredations of particular tribes--tekke and yomut need only to combine to produce unceasing injury. the turkoman is intoxicated with the successes that have always attended his arms in iran, and he only deigns to laugh at the menaces of that country, even when it seeks to carry them into effect { } by the actual march of an army. the position of russia is very different, whose might the yomuts have hitherto learned both to know and to fear merely from the petty garrison at ashourada. i heard that about four years ago the russians, in violation of all their treaties with persia, had attacked the encampment of gömüshtepe with an armed force barely strong, and that the turkomans, although they far outnumbered them, betook themselves to flight, allowing their assailants to plunder and bum their tents. a report as to the 'infernal' arms made use of by the russians spread itself amongst the tekke; but what the nomads find it so difficult to withstand, is no doubt the excellent discipline of their opponents. social relations. but now to accompany the turkoman into his home and his domestic circle. we must first commence by speaking of the nomad himself, of his dress, and his tent. the turkoman is of tartaric origin; but has only retained the type of his race in cases where circumstances have conspired to prevent any intermixture with the iranis. this is remarkably the case with the tekke, the göklen, and the yomuts; for amongst them the pure tartar physiognomy is only met with in those branches and families which have sent fewer alaman to persia, and have consequently introduced amongst themselves fewer black-haired slaves. still the turkoman, whether he has departed more or less from the original type, is always remarkable for his bold penetrating glance, which distinguishes him from { } all the nomads and inhabitants of towns in central asia, and for his proud military bearing; for although i have seen many young men of martial demeanour amongst the kirghis, karakalpak, and Özbegs, it was only in the turkoman that i always found an absolute independence, an absence of all constraint. his dress is the same as that worn at khiva, with some slight modification for man and woman, by the addition of little articles of luxury from persia. the part of the attire of most importance is the red silk shirt that the ordinances of the koran forbid, but which is still worn by both sexes; with the turkoman women it constitutes in reality the whole home attire. my eye had great difficulty in habituating itself to the sight of old matrons and mothers of families, marriageable maidens and young girls, moving about in shifts reaching to the ankle. the covering of the head for the man is a fur cap, lighter and more tasty than the awkward cap of the Özbeg, or the large towering hat of the persian. they employ also the tchapan, an over-dress resembling our dressing-gown, which comes from khiva, but of which they curtail the proportions when they take part in a tchapao (predatory expedition). the women, when dressing themselves for holidays, are accustomed also to bind a shawl round the waist over their long shift, which hangs down in two slips; high-heeled boots, red or yellow, are also indispensable; but the objects that are most coveted, and that give them most pleasure, are the trinkets, rings for neck, ear, or nose, and étuis for amulets, and resembling cartouch-boxes, which are often seen hanging down on their left side and on their right: as with us the ribbons which are used in the different orders of knighthood. these accompany every movement of the body with a clear sound, as it were, of bells. { } the turkoman is very fond of such clatter, and attaches articles that produce it either to his wife or his horse; or when the opportunity there fails him, he steals a persian, and suspends chains upon him. to render the lady's attire complete, a hungarian dolmany (hussar jacket) is hung from the shoulders, which is only permitted to be so long as to leave visible the ends of her hair plaited with a ribbon. the tent of the turkoman, which is met with in the same form throughout all central asia and as far as the remote parts of china, is very neat and in perfect accordance with the life led by the nomad. we annex a representation [see plate] in three forms:-- st, the framework cut in wood; nd, the same when covered with pieces of felt; rd, its interior. with the exception of the woodwork, all its component parts are the product of the industry of the turkoman woman, who busies herself also with its construction and the putting together the various parts. she even packs it up upon the camel, and accompanies it in the wanderings of her people, close on foot. the tents of the rich and poor are distinguished by their being got up with a greater or less pomp in the internal arrangements. there are only two sorts:-- . karaoy (black tent, that is, the tent which has grown brown or black from age);-- . akoy (white tent, that is, one covered in the interior with felt of snowy whiteness; it is erected for newly-married couples, or for guests to whom they wish to pay particular honour). [illustration] tent in central asia. (a-- framework. b--covered with felt. c--interior.) { } altogether the tent as i met with it in central asia has left upon my mind a very pleasing impression. cool in summer and genially warm in winter, what a blessing is its shelter when the wild hurricane rages in all directions around the almost boundless steppes! a stranger is often fearful lest the dread elements should rend into a thousand pieces so frail an abode, but the turkoman has no such apprehension; he attaches the cords fast and sleeps sweetly, for the howling of the storm sounds in his ear like the song that lulls the infant in its cradle! the customs, usages, and occupations of the turkomans might furnish matter for an entire volume, so great and so remarkable is the distinction between their manner of life and our own. i must, however, here limit myself to a few traits in their characters, and only touch upon what is indispensable to my narrative. the leading features in the life of a turkoman are the alaman (predatory expedition) or the tchapao (the surprise). the invitation to any enterprise likely to be attended with profit, finds him ever ready to arm himself, and to spring to his saddle. the design itself is always kept a profound secret even from the nearest relative; and as soon as the serdar (chief elect) has had lavished upon him by some mollah or other the fatiha (benediction), every man betakes himself at the commencement of the evening by different ways to a certain place, before indicated as the rendezvous. the attack is always made either at midnight, when an inhabited settlement, or at sunrise, when a karavan or any hostile troop is its object. this attack of the turkomans, like that of the huns and tartars, is rather to be styled a surprise. they separate themselves { } into several divisions, and make two, hardly ever three, assaults upon their unsuspecting prey; for, according to a turkoman proverb, 'try twice, turn back the third time.' ['iki deng ütschde döng.'] the party assailed must possess great resolution and firmness to be able to withstand a surprise of this nature; the persians seldom do so. very often a turkoman will not hesitate to attack five or even more persians, and will succeed in his enterprise. i have been told by the turkomans, that not unfrequently one of their number will make four or five persians prisoners. 'often,' said one of these nomads to me, 'the persians, struck with a panic, throw away their arms, demand the cords, and bind each other mutually; we have no occasion to dismount, except for the purpose of fastening the last of them.' not to allude to the defeat of , persians by , turkomans on a very recent occasion, i can state as an undoubted fact the immense superiority of the sons of the desert over the iranis. i am inclined to think that it is the terrible historical prestige of the tartars of the north that robs the boldest persian of his courage; and yet how dear has a man to pay for his cowardice! he who resists is cut down; the coward who surrenders has his hands bound, and the horseman either takes him up on his saddle (in which case his feet are bound under the horse's belly), or drives him before him: whenever from any cause this is not possible, the wretched man is attached to the tail of the animal, and has for hours and hours--yes, for days and days--to follow the robber to his desert home. those who are unable to keep up with the horseman generally { } perish. [footnote ] what awaits him in that home the reader already knows. let me add an anecdote of an occurrence which i myself witnessed. it occurred in gömüshtepe. an alaman returned richly laden with captives, horses, asses, oxen, and other movable property. they proceeded to the division of the booty, separating it into as many portions as there had been parties to the act of violence. but besides they left in the centre one separate portion; this was done to make all good, as i afterwards remarked. the robbers went up each in his turn to examine his share. one was satisfied; a second also; the third examined the teeth of the persian woman who had been allotted to him, and observed that his share was too small, whereupon the chief went to the centre heap and placed a young ass by the side of the poor persian slave; an estimate was made of the aggregate value of the two creatures, and the robber was contented: this course was often repeated; and although my feelings revolted at the inhumanity of the proceeding, i could not refrain from laughing at the droll composition of these different shares of spoil. [footnote : i once heard a young girl say that her mother had been killed and left in the desert, because unable to follow the turkomans in their rapid flight.] the main instrument, the one to which the turkoman gives the preference over all others in his forays, is, beyond all question, his horse, which is really a wonderful creature, prized by the son of the desert more than his wife, more than his children, more than his own life. it is interesting to mark with what carefulness he brings him up, how he clothes him to resist cold and heat, what magnificence he displays in the { } accoutrements of his saddle, in which he, perhaps in a wretched dress of rags, makes a strange contrast with the carefully-decorated steed. these fine animals are well worth all the pains bestowed upon them, and the stories recounted of their speed and powers of endurance are far from being exaggerated. by origin the turkoman horse is arabian, for even at the present day those of the purest blood are known by the name bedevi (bedoueen). the horses of the tekke stand very high and are very fast, but are far from possessing the bottom or powers of endurance of the smaller horses of the yomuts. the profit arising to the nomads by their abominable practice of kidnapping by no means compensates for the perils which it entails, for it is not often that it diminishes the poverty to which the son of the desert is born. and what if he is able to save a few small coins? his mode of living, simple in the extreme, would rarely call for such; and i have known many turkomans who, in spite of a condition of increased prosperity, have continued to eat dried fish, and have allowed themselves bread but once in the week, just like the very poorest to whom the price of wheat renders bread almost inaccessible. in his domestic circle, the nomad presents us a picture of the most absolute indolence. in his eyes it is the greatest shame for a man to apply his hand to any domestic occupation. he has nothing to do but to tend his horse; that duty once over, he hurries to his neighbour, or joins one of the group that squat on the ground before the tents, discussing topics connected with politics, recent raids, or horseflesh. in the meantime the inevitable tchilim, a sort of persian pipe, in which the tobacco is not moistened, passes from hand to hand. { } it is only during evening hours, particularly in the winter time, that they love to listen to fairy tales and stories; it is regarded as an enjoyment of a still higher and more elevated nature, when a bakhshi (troubadour) comes forward, and to the accompaniment of his dütara (a two-stringed instrument) sings a few songs of köroglu, aman mollah, or the national poet, makhdumkuli, whom they half deify. the latter, regarded as a sort of saint, was a turkoman of the göklen tribe; he died about eighty years ago. makhdumkuli died, as i heard from kizil akhond, during the civil wars between the yomuts and the göklens--his generous spirit could not endure to contemplate the spectacle of brother struggling in murderous combat with brother, whose wives and children were reciprocally captured and sold to slavery. in his biography, clouded with fable, i found him represented as a wondrous man, who, without going to bokhara or khiva, was divinely inspired in all books and all sciences. once being on horseback, he was surprised by an overpowering sleep; he saw himself, in fancy, transported to mecca into a circle where the prophet and the first khalifs were assembled. with a thrill of reverence and awe he looked round and perceived that omar, the patron of the turkomans, was beckoning to him. he approached the latter, who blessed him and struck him a slight blow on the forehead, whereupon he awoke. from that instant the sweetest poesy began to flow from his lips, and his books will long occupy with the turkomans the first place after the koran. in other respects the collection { } of poems by makhdumkuli is of particular interest: first, as furnishing us with a pure specimen of the turkoman dialect; secondly, because the method, particularly of that part which relates to precepts as to horse-breeding, arms, and the alaman, is such as we rarely find in the literature of the oriental nations. how charming to me, too, those scenes, which can never pass from my memory, when on festal occasions, or during the evening entertainments, some bakhshi used to recite the verses of makhdumkuli! when i was in etrek, one of these troubadours had his tent close to our own; and as he paid us a visit of an evening, bringing his instrument with him, there flocked around him the young men of the vicinity, whom he was constrained to treat with some of his heroic lays. his singing consisted of certain forced guttural sounds, which we might rather take for a rattle than a song, and which he accompanied at first with gentle touches of the strings, but afterwards, as he became more excited, with wilder strokes upon the instrument. the hotter the battle, the fiercer grew the ardour of the singer and the enthusiasm of his youthful listeners; and really the scene assumed the appearance of a romance, when the young nomads, uttering deep groans, hurled their caps to the ground, and dashed their hands in a passion through the curls of their hair, just as if they were furious to combat with themselves. and yet this ought not to surprise us. the education of the young turkoman is in every respect calculated to bring him to this tone of mind. only one in a thousand can read and write: horses, arms, battles, and robberies, are the subjects that exercise, in youth, the imaginations of all. i once heard even the honest { } khandjan, who intended to read a lesson to his son, recount that a certain young turkoman had already kidnapped two persians, and 'of him' (pointing to his son) 'he feared he should never be able to make a man.' [illustration: ] tartar horse race--pursuit of a bride. some customs and usages of the turkomans are very remarkable, as we have but faint traces of them amongst the other nomads of central asia. but there is also the marriage ceremonial where the young maiden, attired in bridal costume, mounts a high-bred courser, taking on her lap the carcase of a lamb or goat, and setting off at full gallop, is followed by the bridegroom and other young men of the party, also on horseback; but she is always to strive, by adroit turns, &c., to avoid her pursuers, that no one of them approach near enough to snatch from her the burden on her lap. this game, called kökbüri (green wolf), is in use amongst all the nomads of central asia. to mention another singular usage, sometimes two, sometimes four days after the nuptials, the newly-married couple are separated, and the permanent union does not begin until after the expiration of an entire year. another singular custom has reference to the mourning for the decease of a beloved member of the family. it is the practice, in the tent of the departed one, each day for a whole year, without exception, at the same hour that he drew his last breath, for female mourners to chant the customary dirges, in which the members of the family present are expected to join. in doing so, the latter proceed with their ordinary daily employments and occupations; { } and it is quite ridiculous to see how the turkoman polishes his arms and smokes his pipe, or devours his meal, to the accompaniment of these frightful yells of sorrow. a similar thing occurs with the women, who, seated in the smaller circumference of the tent itself, are wont to join in the chant, to cry and weep in the most plaintive manner, whilst they are at the same time cleaning wool, spinning, or performing some other duty of household industry. the friends and acquaintances of the deceased are also expected to pay a visit of lamentation, and that even when the first intelligence of the misfortune does not reach them until after months have elapsed. the visitor seats himself before the tent, often at night, and, by a thrilling yell of fifteen minutes' duration, gives notice that he has thus performed his last duty towards the defunct. when a chief of distinction, one who has really well earned the title of bator (valiant), perishes, it is the practice to throw up over his grave a joszka [footnote ] (large mound); to this every good turkoman is bound to contribute at least seven shovelfuls of earth, so that these elevations often have a circumference of sixty feet, and a height of from twenty to thirty feet. in the great plains these mounds are very conspicuous objects; the turkoman knows them all, and calls them by their names,--that is to say, by the names of those that rest below. [footnote : this custom existed amongst the ancient huns, and is in use in hungary even at the present day. in kashau (upper hungary) a mound was raised a few years ago, at the suggestion of count edward karolyi, in memory of the highly-respected count st. széchenyi.] { } let me conclude this short account of the turkomans with a still briefer review of their history, in which i shall confine myself to what, in these particulars, i have heard regarded as traditions still commanding credit amongst them. 'we all spring,' said to me my learned friend kizil akhond, 'from manghischlak. our ancestors were szön khan and eszen ili. yomut and tekke were the sons of the first, tchaudor and göklen of the second. manghischlak was in the most ancient times called ming kischlak (a thousand winter quarters), and is the original home, not only of those of our race who have separated and migrated to persia, but of the ersari, salor, and the rest of the tribes. our saints of the olden times, as ireg ata [footnote ] and sari-er, repose within the confines of manghischlak; and especially fortunate is he who has been able to visit their tombs.' khandjan told me that, so late as one hundred and fifty years ago, the turkomans had very rarely any other dresses than those which they prepared of sheepskins, or the hides of horse or wild ass; that nowadays this was all changed, and the only thing that remains to remind us of the old national costume is the fur cap. [footnote : ireg ata means 'the great father' in hungarian; oreg atya, 'old father.'] the animosities prevailing amongst the different tribes often lead to the reciprocal insulting reproach of 'descendants of slaves.' the time when they left their common country cannot be fixed with exactitude. ersari, sarik, and salor were already, at the time of the arabian occupation, in the eastern part of the desert, on this side of the oxus. tekke, göklen, and yomut took possession of their present country at a { } later period, perhaps in the time of djinghis khan and timour. the change of abode of these last-mentioned tribes took place only by partial emigrations, and, indeed, cannot even at the present day be said to be more than half complete, for many yomuts and göklens still loiter about their ancient seat with singular predilection. during the middle ages, the turkoman horsemen were for the most part to be met with in the service of the khans of khiva and bokhara; often, also, under the banners of persia. the renown of their bravery, and particularly of their furious charges, spread far and wide; and certain of their leaders, like kara yuszuf, who took part with the tribe salor in the campaigns of timour, acquired historical celebrity. the turkomans contributed much to the _turkecising_ of north persia, at the epoch when the family of the atabegs ruled in iran; and beyond all dispute it is they who contributed the largest contingent to the turkish population on the other side of the caucasus, to azerbaydjan, mazendran, and shiraz. [footnote ] [footnote : there are even now four or five of the smaller turkish tribes living a nomadic life in the district around shiraz. their ilkhani (chieftain), with whom i became acquainted in shiraz in , told me that he can raise from them , horsemen, and some, as the kashkai and the allahverdi, had been transplanted hither by djinghis khan. in europe this fact has not been appreciated; and even burnes, in other respects well informed, thinks he has found, in a place of like name in the vicinity of samarcand, the _turki shirazi_ mentioned by hafiz in his songs.] { } it is remarkable that in spite of the bitter hostility reigning between the turkomans and their shiite brethren in persia, the former still always especially name azerbaydjan as the seat of a higher civilisation; and whenever the bakhshi is asked to sing something more than usually beautiful and original, azerbaydjanian songs are always called for: nay, even the captive irani, if of turkish origin, may always expect more merciful treatment, for the turkoman says, 'he is our brother, this unbeliever.' [footnote ] [footnote : 'kardashi miz dir ol kafir.'] the last risings of the turkomans in mass occurred under nadir shah and aga mehemed khan. nadir, helped by these tribes and by the afghans, at the commencement of the last century, shook asia out of her slumber; and the second conqueror above mentioned availed himself of the sword of the turkomans to found his dynasty. nomads are well aware of the fact, and make the ingratitude of the kadjar a subject of frequent complaint, who, since the time of feth ali shah, have, they say, entirely forgotten them, and even withdrawn the lawful pensions of several of their chiefs. to form an idea of the political importance of the nomads, we need only cast a glance at the map of central asia. we there see at once that they have become, from their position, the guardians of the southern frontiers of the entire asiatic highlands of turkestan, as they name it themselves. the turkoman is, without any possibility of contradiction, next to the kiptchak, the most warlike and savage race of central asia: in his rear, in the cities of khiva, bokhara, and khokand, we find the seat of cowardice and effeminacy; and had he not constituted himself as it were into a barrier of iron, things would never have remained, in the three countries just mentioned, in the condition in which they were after the time of kuteibe and ebu muszlim, [footnote ] and in which they still continue. [footnote : the former conquered turkestan in the time of khalif omar; the latter, having first been governor of merv, fought for a long time the battle of independence, in conjunction with the turkomans and kharesmians against his master, the sovereign of bagdad.] { } civilisation, some may think, has a predilection for the way that leads from the south to the north; but how can any spark penetrate to central asia, as long as the turkomans menace every traveller and every karavan with a thousand perils? { } chapter xvii. khiva, the capital principal divisions, gates, and quarters of the city bazaars mosques medresse or colleges; how founded, organised, and endowed police khan and his government taxes tribunals khanat canals political divisions produce manufactures and trade particular routes khanat, how peopled Özbegs turkomans karakalpak kasak (kirghis) sart persians history of khiva in fifteenth century khans and their genealogy. _les principaux tartares firent asseoir le khan sur une pièce de feutre et lui dirent: 'honare les grands, sois juste et bienfesant envers tous; sinon tu seras si misérable que tu n'auras pas même le feutre sur lequel tu es assis_.' voltaire, essai sur les moeurs, c. lx. a. khiva, the capital. as we are speaking of an oriental city, what need to say that the interior of khiva is very different from what its exterior would lead us to expect! first, reader, you must have seen a persian city of the lowest rank, and then you will understand my meaning when i say that khiva is inferior to it; or picture to yourself three or four thousand mud houses standing in different directions in the most irregular manner with uneven and unwashed walls, and fancy these surrounded by a wall ten feet high, also made of mud, and again you have a conception of khiva. { } _its divisions._ the city is divided into two parts: (_a_) khiva proper; and (_b_) itch kale, the citadel with its encircling wall, which can be shut off from the outer city by four gates; and consists of the following mahalle (quarters): pehlivan, uluyogudj, akmesdjid, yipektchi, koshbeghimahallesi. the city, properly so called, has nine gates, and ten mahalle (quarters). [footnote ] [footnote : that is to say, towards the north, urgendj dervazesi,( ) gendumghia dervazesi, imaret dervazesi; towards the east, ismahmudata dervazesi, hazaresp dervazesi; to the south, shikhlair dervazesi, pishkenik dervazesi, rafenek dervazesi; and to the west, bedrkhan dervazesi. there are ten mahalle (quarters), that is to say, . or. . kefterkhane. . mivesztan, where the fruit is sold. . mehterabad. . yenikale. . bala havuz, where there is a large reservoir of water surrounded by plane trees, serving as a place of recreation. . nanyemezorama. ( ) . nurullahbay. . bagtche. . rafenek. ( ) dervaze, a persian word, meaning gate. ( ) this word means 'village that eats no bread.'] _bazaars_. bazaars or shops for sale equal to those which we meet with in persia, and in other oriental cities, do not exist in khiva. the following only deserve any mention. tim, a small well-built bazaar, with tolerably high vaulted ceilings, containing about shops and a karavanserai. here are exposed all the cloth, { } hardware, fancy articles, linen, and cotton that the russian commerce supplies, as well as the inconsiderable produce proceeding from bokhara and persia. around the tim are also to be seen nanbazari (bread market), bakalbazari (grocers), shembazari (the soap and candle market), and the sertrashbazari (from ten to twelve barbers' rooms, where the heads are shaved: i say the heads, for the man would be regarded as out of his senses or would be punished with death who should have his beard shaved). i must also class amongst the bazaars the kitchik kervanserai, where the slaves brought by the tekke and the yomuts are exposed for sale. but for this article of business khiva itself could not exist, as the culture of the land is entirely in the hands of the slaves. when we come to speak of bokhara, we will treat this subject more at large. _mosques_. there are few mosques in khiva of much antiquity or artistic construction. those that follow alone deserve notice. ( ) hazreti pehlivan, an edifice four centuries old, consisting of one large and two small domes; it contains the tomb of pehlivan ahmed zemtchi, a revered saint, patron of the city of khiva. its exterior promises little, although the kashi (ornamental tiles) of the interior are tasteful, but unfortunately the place itself is dark, and the insufficiency of the lighting of the interior leaves much that the eye cannot distinguish. both inside the dome and in the courts leading to it there are always swarms of blind practitioners of the _memoria technica_, who know the koran by heart from frequent { } repetition, and are ever reciting passages from it. ( ) another mosque is the djüma-a-mesdjidi, which the khan attends on fridays, and where the official khutbe (prayer for the ruling sovereign) is read. ( ) khanmesdjidi, in the interior of the citadel. ( ) shaleker, which owes its construction to a farmer. ( ) atamurad kushbeghi. ( ) karayüzmesdjidi. _medresse_(colleges). the number of colleges and their magnificent endowments are, in central asia, always a criterion of the degree of prosperity and religious instruction of the population; and when we consider the limited means at their disposal, we cannot but laud the zeal and the readiness to make sacrifices, evinced both by king and subject, when a college is about to be founded and endowed. bokhara, the oldest seat of islamite civilisation in central asia, is a pattern in this respect; but some colleges exist in khiva also, and of these we shall particularly mention the following: ( ) medemin [footnote ]khan medressesi, built in , by a persian architect, after the model of a persian karavanserai of the first rank. on the right is a massive tower, somewhat loftier than the two-storied medresse, but which, owing to the death of the builder, remains imperfect. this college has cells, affording accommodation for students; it enjoys a revenue of , khivan batman of wheat, and , tilla ( , _l_. sterling) in money. to give the reader an idea of this institution, i will state the manner in which this revenue is apportioned, in order to show the parties composing the _personnel_. [footnote : abbreviation of mehemmed emin.] { } batman. tilla. akhond (professors) receive yearly , iman , muezzin (caller to prayers) servants barber muttewali, or inspectors, receive a tithe of the whole revenue; the residue is divided amongst the students, who form three classes: st class nd class rd class ( ) allahkuli khan medressesi has cells, and the yearly revenue of the pupils is fifty batman and two tilla ( _l_. sterling). ( ) kutlug murad inag medressesi. each cell produces fifty batman and three tilla. ( ) arab khan medressesi has only a few cells, but is richly endowed. ( ) shirgazi khan medressesi. these medresse are the only edifices in the midst of the mud huts that deserve the name of houses. their courts are for the most part kept clean, are planted with trees, or used as gardens. of the subjects in which instruction is given we will speak hereafter, remarking only by the way, that the lectures themselves are delivered in the cells of the professors, to groups of scholars ranged together according to the degree of their intellectual capacity. { } _police_. in each quarter of the town there is a mirab, [footnote ] responsible by day for the public order of his district, in case of any rioting, theft, or other crime. the charge of the city after sunset is entrusted to the four pasheb (chief watchmen), who are bound to patrol the whole night before the gate of the citadel. each of them has eight under-watchmen subject to his orders, who are at the same time public executioners. these, in all thirty-two in number, go about the city, and arrest everyone who shows himself in the streets half an hour after midnight. their particular attention is directed to burglars, or to the heroes of the intrigues proscribed by the law: woe to those caught _in flagrante delicto!_ [footnote : a mirab is the same as the turkish subashi, a functionary, that has played his part from the chinese frontier to the adriatic, and still continues to do so.] b. the khan and his government. that the khan of khiva can dispose despotically, according to his good pleasure, of the property and lives of his subjects, scarcely requires to be mentioned. in his character of lord of the land, he is what every father is at the head of his family: just as the latter, when he pleases, gives ear to a slave, so the khan pays attention occasionally to the words of a minister; nor is there any barrier to the capricious use of his authority, except that inspired by the ulemas, when these have at their head such men as, by their learning and irreproachable lives, have conciliated the affection of the people, and rendered themselves objects of dread to the khan. matters stand so with almost all the governments of asia, but this is not altogether to be ascribed to the defects or entire absence of forms of government. no; in all times, and in all epochs of history, forms intended for controlling the tyrannical and capricious exercise of { } power have existed in theory, and have only remained inoperative from that weakness of character and that deficiency of the nobler sentiments in the masses at large which have, throughout the east, ever favoured, as they still continue to do, every crime of the sovereign. according to the khivan constitution, which is of mongol origin, he is ( ) khan or padisha, who is chosen for the purpose from the midst of a victorious race. at his side stand the ( ) inag, [footnote ] four in number, of whom two are the nearest relatives of the king, and the two others merely of the same race. one of the former is always the regular governor of the province of hezaresp. [footnote : the literal meaning of the word is younger brother.] ( ) nakib, the spiritual chief, must always be a seid (of the family of the prophet). he has the same rank as the sheikh-ül-islam in constantinople. [footnote ] [footnote : in constantinople the nakib-ül-eshref, the chief of the seïds, is in rank below the sheikh-ül-islam. ] ( ) bi, not to be confounded with bey, with which it has only a similar verbal meaning. the bi is, in the battle, always at the right hand of the khan. ( ) atalik, a sort of councillor of state, who can only be Özbegs, and whose number the khan can fix. ( ) kushbeghi. [footnote ] [footnote : vizir, or first court minister of the khan: with him begins the 'corps' of ministers properly so called, holding their place at the will of the ruler.] ( ) mehter, a sort of officer who has the charge of the internal affairs of the court and country. the mehter must always be from the sart (ancient persian population of khiva). { } ( ) yasaulbashi, two in number, principal guards, whose functions are those of introduction at the arz (public audience). the divan, a sort of secretary, at the same time accountant, is of the same rank. ( ) mehrem, also two in number, having merely the office of chamberlains and confidants, yet possessing great influence with the khan and his government. ( ) minbashi, commander of , horsemen. [footnote ] [footnote : the collective military forces of the khan of khiva were computed, i was told, at , men, but this number can be doubled in the time of peril.] ( ) yüzbashi, commander of horsemen. ( ) onbashi, commander of horsemen. these twelve divisions form the class of officials, properly so called, and are styled sipahi. they are also divided as follows: some whom the khan cannot remove from office, some who have a fixed stipend, and the rest who are only in active service in time of war. the high officials are rewarded with lands, and the regular troops receive from the khan horses and arms, and are exempt from all taxes and imposts. thus far of the secular officers. the ulema or priests, of whom the nakib is the chief, are subdivided as follows:-- ( ) kazi kelan, superior judge and chief of jurisdiction throughout the khanat. ( ) kazi ordu, who attends the khan as superior judge in his campaigns. ( ) alem, the chief of the five muftis. ( ) reis, who is inspector of the schools, and exercises a surveillance over the administration of the laws respecting religion. { } ( ) mufti, of whom there is one in every considerable city. ( ) akhond, professor or elementary teacher. the first three belong to the higher rank of officials, and on entering upon their functions, are richly provided for by the khan. the three others draw their stipends from the vakf (pious foundations) paid to them in money and produce; but it is, besides, the usage for the khan to make them certain presents every year, at the festivals of the kurban and the noruz. the ulemas of khiva do not stand in as high repute for learning as those of bokhara, but they are far from being so presumptuous and arrogant as the latter; and many are animated by a sincere zeal to improve their countrymen as far as they can, and to soften the rude habits contracted by constant wars. _taxes_. in khiva these are of two kinds:-- (_a_) salgit, corresponding with our land-tax. for every piece of ground capable of cultivation, measuring ten tanab (a tanab contains sixty square ells), the khan receives a tax of eighteen tenghe (about ten shillings.) from this the following are exempt: the warriors (nöker or atli), the ulemas, and khodja (descendants from the prophet). (_b_) zekiat (customs), in accordance with which imported wares pay - / per cent, on their value, whereas for oxen, camels, and horses [footnote ] a tenghe per head, and for sheep half a tenghe per head, were payable yearly. [footnote : only those, however, are obliged to pay who have more than ten, which constitute a herd.] { } the collection of the salgit is left to the kushbeghi and mehter, who make circuits for the purpose every year through the principal districts, and hold the yasholu [footnote ] responsible for the collection in the particular departments. [footnote : 'the great of age,' as the grey-beards are denominated in khiva.] the collection of the zekiat is controlled by a favourite mehrem of the khan, who visits, attended by a secretary, the tribes of nomads; and, as it is impossible to count the cattle, he every year taxes each tribe at a rate fixed after negotiation with his yasholu. of course, in this operation, the principal profit finds its way into the sack of the mehter; and the khan last year was made to believe that the karakalpak had only , oxen, and the yomuts and tchaudors only , sheep taxed last year, which was, as i heard, only a third of the truth. _justice_. this is administered in the mosques, and the private dwellings of the kazis and muftis, on whom the jurisdiction devolves. but every individual may prefer his complaint before the governor of the city or the province, who then makes his decision after urf (i. e., as it seems to him right). each governor, and even the khan himself, must every day hold a public audience of at least four hours' duration, a duty the neglect of which illness can alone excuse; and, as no one can be excluded, the ruler is often forced to listen to and settle even the pettiest family differences amongst his subjects. i have been told that the khan finds it fine sport to witness the quarrels of married couples, { } maddened with anger which he himself takes care to foment. the father of the country is obliged to hold his sides for laughter to see, sometimes, man and wife thrashing each other around the hall, and finally falling wrestling in the dust. c. khiva, the khanat. the khanat of khiva, known in history under the name of kharezm, [footnote ] and called also in adjoining countries Ürgendj, is surrounded on all sides by deserts; its extreme frontiers to the south-east are formed by the city of fitnek, to the north-west by kungrat and köhne Ürgendj, to the south by medemin and köktcheg. without attempting to give the superficial measurement of the land occupied by fixed settlers, or ascertain precisely the number of the inhabitants, let me rather content myself by furnishing as complete a description as circumstances admit of the topography of the khanat, and leave the geographer, if so disposed, to apply himself to the arithmetical calculation. [footnote : kharezm is a persian word signifying warlike, rejoicing in war.] but we may with less hesitation enlarge upon the extraordinary fruitfulness of the soil, to be ascribed, not so much to appropriate modes of cultivation, as to the excellent irrigation, and the fertilising waters of the oxus. _canals_. these in khiva are of two sorts--(_a_) arna, those formed by the river itself, which have from time to time been merely widened and deepened by the { } inhabitants; (_b_) yap, canals dug to a width of one or two fathoms, for the most part fed from the arna. with these the whole of the land that is under cultivation is covered, as with a net. amongst the arna deserve particular mention-- . hazreti pehlivan arnasi, which, breaks in between fitnek and hezaresp, passes before khiva, and is lost in the sand after having flowed through zey and the district of the yomuts. . gazavat arnasi forms a break between khanka and yenghi Ürgendj, passes also to the west before gazavat, and loses itself in the territory of the yomuts. . shahbad arnasi has its beginning above yenghi Ürgendj, passes by shabad tash-haus and yillali, and disappears at köktcheg. . yarmish arnasi breaks in opposite shahbaz veli, and flows through the districts between kiat kungrat and yenghi Ürgendj. . kilitchbay arnasi separates khitai and görlen, goes by yillali, and disappears in the sand behind köktcheg. . khodjaili arnasi. on the further bank are-- . shurakhan arnasi, which commences from the place of the same name, and disappears to the northeast, after having watered yapkenary and akkamish. . iltazar khan arnasi, which traverses the land of the karakalpak. _divisions_. the political divisions of khiva correspond with the number of those cities having particular bay, or governors, this entitling them to the name of separate districts. at this present moment the following { } { } divisions subsist, of which the most interesting are khiva, the capital, yenghi Ürghendj, the most manufacturing, köhne Ürgendj, famous for having long been the capital of the khanat, but now only a miserable village. there only remain of its former splendour (_a_) two ruins of towers, one more considerable, the other smaller, designed in the same massive style as the other towers in central asia. the legend recounts that these owe their demolition to the fury of the calmucks, because at a distance they seemed to be near, yet fly before the approaching assailants; (_b_) the dome of the törebegkhan, inlaid with tastefully enamelled bricks; (_c_) mazlum khan solugu. _principal towns or divisions, with the villages belonging to them, and their distance from the oxus_. name distance from oxus villages tash or mile . khiva _to the west:_bedrkhan, kinik, akyap, khasian, tashayak, töyesitchti. _to the south:_ sirtcheli, shikhlar, rafenek 				 engérik, pesckenik, 				 pernakaz akmesdjid. _to the east:_ sayat, kiat, shikhbaghi, kettebag. _to the north:_ gendumghiah, perishe, khalil, neyzekhasz, gauk, 				 tcharakhshik, zirsheytan 				 ordumizan. . hezaresp djengeti, shikharik, khodjalar himetbaba, bitjaktchi, ishanteshepe, bagat, nogman, besharik. . jenghi Ürgendj - / gaibulu shabadboyu, kutchilar, oroslar, sabundji, akhonbaba, karamaza kiptchaklar. . kungrat bank kiet, nogai, sarsar, sakar. . tash-haus kamishli kuk, kongrudlar, karzalar yarmish boyu, bastirmali. . görlen djelair, yonushkali, eshim, vezir, alchin, bashkir, tashkali, kargali. . khodja ili ketmendji ata, djarnike naymanlar (in the woods), kamishtchali dervish khodja. . tchimbay on the further bank . shahbad khodjalar, kefter khane, kökkamish. shurakhan on the opposite side . kilidj bay - / klalimbeg bagalan alieliboyu, bozjapboyu. . mangit / permanatcha, kiatlar, kenegöz. . kiptchak on bank basuyapboyu, nogai ishan kandjirgali, kanlilar. . khitai - / akkum, yomurlutam, kulaulu. . ak derbendand djamli . kiet . khanka meder, godje, khodjalar, shagallar. . fitnek . shabaz veli . djagatai - / . ambar bastirmali veyenganka peszi. . yenghi ya opposite bank altchin, vezir. . nôks . köktcheg . köhne urgendj . kiat kungrat [between görlen and yenghi urgendj] . nokhasz [between khanka and hezaresp] . rahmetbirdi opposite bank beg [near oveisz karaayne mountain] . kangli . yilali [between medemin and tashhaus] . koshköpür . gazavat ------ { } d. products, manufactures, and trade of khiva. the fertility of the khivan soil has already been several times mentioned; we must, however, allude to the following produce as especially excellent:--corn; rice, particularly that from görlen; silk, the finest of which is from shahbad and yenghi Ürgendj; cotton; ruyan, a kind of root, prized for the red colour extracted from it; and fruits, the superior merit of which not persia and turkey alone, but even europe itself, would find it difficult to contest. i particularly refer to the apples of hezaresp, the peach and pomegranate of khiva, but, above all, to the incomparable and delicious melons, renowned as far even as remote pekin, so that the sovereign of the celestial empire never forgets, when presents flow to him from chinese tartary, to beg for some Ürkindji melons. even in russia they fetch a high price, for a load of winter melons exported thither brings in return a load of sugar. { } with respect to khivan manufactures, in high repute is the Ürgendj tchapani, or coat from Ürgendj; the material is a striped stuff of two colours (of wool or silk, often made of the two threads mingled), this is cut to the fashion of our dressing gowns. khiva is also renowned for its articles in brass, hezaresp for its gowns, and tash-hauz for its linens. the principal trade is with russia. karavans, consisting of from one to two thousand camels, go to orenburg in spring, and to astrakhan in autumn, conveying cotton, silk, skins, coats for the nogai tartars, shagreen leather, and fruits to the markets of nishnei (which they call also mäkariä); they bring back in return kettles or other vessels of cast-iron (here called djöghen), chintz (the kinds used by us to cover furniture, but here employed for the fronts of women's shifts), fine muslin, calicoes, clothing, sugar, iron, guns of inferior quality, and fancy goods in small quantities. there is a great export trade in fish, but the russians have their own fisheries, which are protected by three steamers, stationed on the sea of aral, and which navigate as far as kungrat, in accordance with a treaty concluded six years ago by the last russian embassy sent to khiva. with persia and herat [footnote ] the trade is inconsiderable; the reason is that the routes leading thither are occupied by the turkomans. between khiva and astrabad the intercourse is entirely in the hands of the yomuts, who bring { } with them every year or camels, loaded with box-wood (to make combs) and naphtha. with bokhara, on the contrary, more important transactions take place. they export thither gowns and linen, and receive in exchange tea, spices, paper, and light fancy goods, there manufactured. for the home trade they hold every week, in each city, one or two markets; even in parts confined exclusively to nomads, and where houses as such do not exist, a market-place (bazarli-djay), consisting of one or more mud huts, is constructed. a market in this country assumes the appearance of a fair or festival. the central asiatic visits it often from a distance of ten or twenty miles, purchasing perhaps a few needles or other trifles; but his real object is the love of display, for on such occasions he mounts his finest horse and carries his best weapons. [footnote : in herat, it is true, and in its environs, the khiva-tchapani (coat from khiva) is much appreciated and bought at a high price, but the article itself reaches them through bokhara.] [illustration] market on horseback--amongst the Özbegs. e. how the khanat is peopled. khiva is peopled by . Özbegs; . turkomans; . karakalpak; . kasak (called by us kirghis); . sart; . persians. . _Özbegs._ this is the designation of a people for the most part inhabiting settled abodes, and occupying themselves with the cultivation of the earth. they extend from the southern point of the sea of aral as far as komul (distant a journey of forty days from kashgar), and are looked upon as the prominent race in the three khanats. according to their divisions they fall into thirty-two principal taife (tribes). [footnote ] [footnote : as-- . kungrat; . kiptchak; . khitai; , manghit; . nöks; . nayman; . kulan; . kiet; . az; . taz; . sayat; . djagatay; . uygur; . akbet . dörmen . Öshün; . kandjigaly; . nogai; . balgali; . miten; . djelair; . kenegöz; . kanli; . ichkili; . bagurlü; . altchin; . atchmayli; . karakursak; . birkulak; . tyrkysh; . kettekeser; . ming.] { } this division is old, but it is very remarkable that even these particular tribes are scattered almost indiscriminately over the ground above mentioned, and it seems astonishing and, indeed, almost incredible, that Özbegs of khiva, khokand, and yerkend, differing in language, customs, and physiognomy, represent themselves nevertheless as members, not only of one and the same nation, but of the very same tribe or clan. i will here only remark that in khiva most of the tribes have representatives, and the khivite has a legitimate pride in the purity of his ancient Özbeg nationality, as contrasted with that of bokhara and kashgar. at the very first sight, however, the khivan Özbeg betrays the mixture of his blood with the iran elements, for he has a beard, always to be regarded in the turanis as a foreign peculiarity, but his complexion and form of countenance indicate very often genuine tartar origin. even in the traits of his character, the khivan Özbeg is preferable to his relatives in the other races. he is honest and open-hearted, has the savage nature of the nomads that surround him without the refined cunning of oriental civilisation. he ranks next to the pure osmanli of turkey, and it may be said of both that something may still be made out of them. { } khiva is less instructed in the doctrine of islamism than bokhara, a circumstance that has had much influence in producing the following result: the retention by the khivan Özbeg not only of many of the national usages of heathenism, but also of the religious observances of the parsees. a predilection in favour of music and the national poetry of the turks, more passionately cultivated by the nomads of central asia than by any civilised nation, has been here more strictly maintained than in khokand, bokhara, and kashgar. the khivan players on the dutar (a guitar with two strings), and koboz (lute) are in high renown throughout all turkestan; and not only is nevai, the greatest of the Özbeg poets, familiar to every one, but no ten years elapse without the appearance of lyrists of the second or third rank. i became acquainted in khiva with two brothers; one, munis, wrote excellent poems, of which it is my purpose later to publish several, and the other, mirab, had the extraordinary patience to translate into the Özbeg-turkish dialect the great historical work of mirkhond to render it more accessible to his son, who was nevertheless acquainted with persian. the work employed him twenty years, but he was ashamed to communicate the fact to any one, for a man who busies himself with any other branch of learning than religion is there regarded as a very superficial person. many centuries have elapsed since their first settlement, and yet the khivan customs still retain the impress of the early heroic age. mimic battles, wrestling, and particularly horse races, occur frequently. in the latter very brilliant prizes await the winners. every wedding of distinction is honoured by a race of , , , which means that the winner receives from the giver of the festival, of all or part of his property, , , , for instance sheep, goats. { } and so on; these often yield him a considerable sum. smaller races of less importance consist of what is styled kökbüri (green wolf), of which we have already spoken when treating of the turkomans. there are festivals and sports in khiva which have been handed down from the primitive inhabitants, who were fire-worshippers; they once existed in other parts of central asia before the introduction of islam, but they are at the present day quite forgotten. . _turkomans_. of these we have already spoken at large. there are in khiva (_a_) yomuts who inhabit the borders of the desert, from köhne to gazavat, the district of karayilghin, köktcheg, Özbegyap, bedrkend, and medemin. (_b_) tchaudor, who wander about also in the land around köhne, namely, near kizil takir, and porsu, but more to the west, in the country between the aral and caspian seas. of göklen there are very few. . _karahalpak_. these inhabit the further bank of the oxus, opposite görlens, far away up close to kungrat, in the vicinity of extensive forests, where they occupy themselves with the breeding of cattle; they have few horses and hardly any sheep. the karakalpak pique themselves upon possessing the most beautiful women in turkestan; but on the other side they are themselves described as being the greatest idiots, and i have heard many anecdotes confirming this assertion. [footnote ] [footnote : of this nation i have found ten principal tribes-- . baymakli. . khandekli. . terstamgali. . atchamayli. . kaytchili khitai. . ingakli. . kenegöz. . tomboyun. . shakoo. . ontönturûk.] { } their number is computed at , tents. from time out of mind they have been subject to khiva. forty years ago they rebelled under their leader, aydost, who invaded kungrat, but were, at a later date, defeated by mehemmed rehim khan. eight years have hardly elapsed since they rose again under their chief, zarlig, who is said to have had under him , horsemen, and to have committed great devastations until they were utterly routed and dispersed by kutlug murad. their last insurrection took place three years ago, under er nazar, who built himself a stronghold, but was nevertheless overcome. . _kasak (kirghis)_. of these, very few remain subject to khiva, they having, in recent times, for the most part fallen under the dominion of russia, we shall speak more fully of this great nomadic nation of central asia when we come to treat of bokhara. . _sart_. these are called tadjik in bokhara and khokand, and are the ancient persian population of kharezm. their number here is small. they have, by degrees, exchanged their persian language for the turkish. the sart is distinguishable, not less than the tadjik, by his crafty, subtle manners. he is no great favourite with the Özbeg, and in spite of the sart and Özbeg having lived five centuries together, very few mixed marriages have taken place between them. { } . _persians_. these are either slaves, of whom there are about , , or freed men, besides a small colony in akderbend and djamli. in other respects, as far as material existence is concerned, the slave in khiva is not badly off. craftier than the plain straightforward Özbeg, he soon enriches himself, and many prefer, after having purchased their freedom, to settle in the country rather than return to persia. the slave is styled in khiva, dogma, and his offspring, khanezad (house-born). the blemish of the captivity to which he has been subjected is only effaced in the third generation. f. materials for a history of khiva in the th century. . _mehemmed emin inag_. on the sudden retreat of nadir shah, [footnote ] who had, without a blow, rendered himself master of the khanat, the kirghis of the small horde (or Üstyurt kazaghi, or kasaks of the upper yurt, as they style themselves) took the lead of affairs in khiva. they ruled until the end of the last century, at which time an Özbeg chieftain of the tribe of konrad rose and laid claim to the throne. his name was mehemmed emin inag ( - ), by which title he meant to express his descent from the last Özbeg family that had reigned. he succeeded in getting together a small army, and marched against the kasak prince. but the latter, who was still in considerable force, defeated his adversary several times, till he finally fled to bokhara, where he lived some years in retirement. his partisans, { } however, continued the struggle until they gained several advantages; they then despatched a deputation of forty horsemen to inform mehemmed emin; whereupon that prince returned and again placed himself at the head of affairs, and this time with better result, for he drove away the kasaks. mounting the throne he became the founder of the present reigning family, who were his successors, in an unbroken order of succession, as shown in the accompanying genealogical account.--_see next page_. [footnote : after he had, in , conquered yolbarz (lion) shah, and a few months later had retired to kelat. ] . _iltazar khan_ ( - ). this prince made war with bokhara, because the latter supported the sinking power of the kasaks. whilst he was occupied in the neighbourhood of chardjuy, the yomuts, at the instigation of the bokhariots, dashed upon khiva and got possession of the city, and plundered it under the guidance of their chief, tapishdeli. iltazar, endeavouring to return with rapidity, was, in his retreat, routed by the bokhariots, and died in flight in the waters of the oxus. he was succeeded on the throne by his son, . _mehemmed rehim_ ( - ); called also medrehim. he lost no time in turning his arms against the yomuts, drove them out of the capital, and made them richly atone for the booty they had taken. equal success attended him in his dealings with the karakalpaks. these, led by ajdost, resisted him at first, but he compelled them to submit. he was not so fortunate in his attack upon kungrat, where one of his relatives contested the throne with him. { } [illustration] family tree { } the struggle lasted years. it is remarkable that he continued, during the whole of this time, the siege of the above-named city; and the obstinate defender, laughing at all the efforts of the enemy, called out to him, it is said, one day from the top of the tower: 'utch ay savun (three months sour milk), utch a kavun (three months melons), utch ay kabak (three months pumpkins), utch a tchabak' (three months fish); meaning thereby that he had food for the four seasons of the year, which he could procure within the precincts of the city; that he had no occasion for bread, and that he could last a long time without being reduced by famine. to revenge the death of his father, medrehim marched against bokhara, where, at that time, emir seid, a weak-minded prince who assumed the dervish character, held the reins of government. the khivites devastated many cities up to the very gates of bokhara, making numerous prisoners. the emir was informed, and he exclaimed, 'akhir righistan amandur!' which means that he had still a place of security, righistan, [footnote ] and that he had no occasion to fear. after having committed great ravages, medrehim returned laden with spoil. towards the close of his reign, he reduced to subjection, at astrabad, the tekke and the yomuts. [footnote : a place of public resort in the city of bokhara.] { } . _allah kuli khan_ ( - ). this prince inherited from his father a well-filled hazne (treasury), as well as powerful influence amongst the neighbouring nations. his anxiety to preserve it involved him in several wars. in bokhara the feeble seid had been succeeded by the energetic nasr ullah, who, seeking to avenge the disgraceful defeat of his father, began a war in which the khivan crown prince was routed. at the time the news arrived that the russians were marching from orenburg upon khiva, and that the hostility of the emir of bokhara was only owing to the instigations of the unbelievers, the consternation was great, for it was reported that the muscovite force amounted to more than eighty thousand men, with a hundred cannon; and as they had waited long in the vain hope of receiving help from the 'inghiliz' in herat, the khan despatched, about ten thousand horsemen, led by khodja niyazbay, against the russians, who had already forced their way from the ughe plain as far as the lake of atyolu, six miles distant from kungrat. the khivites recount that they surprised the enemy, and that such a slaughter ensued as is seldom heard of. many were made prisoners; and in kungrat two russians were pointed out to me who had remained behind from that campaign as prisoners, had afterwards become public converts to islamism, and had in consequence been set free by the khan, who had loaded them with presents: they had even contracted marriages there. [footnote ] [footnote : the above is the version of the affair according to the khivites themselves. it is, however, well known that the expedition that marched against khiva, under the command of general perowszky, consisted of only from ten to twelve thousand men. the principal cause of the russian disaster was unquestionably the severe cold; still a battle did actually take place, and the Özbegs, to whom captain abbot ascribes so much cowardice, did inflict considerable injury upon the corps of occupation after it had fallen into disorder.] { } after the victory, the khan had raised entrenchments in the neighbourhood of dövkara, on both sides. the garrisons of these were placed under the control of khodja niyazbay. these, however, have been abandoned, and have remained in ruins for the last ten years. to return thanks to god for the happy termination of the war with the russians, allahkuli founded a medresse (college), which he richly endowed. on the other side the war with bokhara continued; the göklens were also subdued, and a great number of them sent to colonise khiva. it is an old but singular custom in this country that a whole tribe is taken altogether and forced to submit to a transportation which transfers them to khiva itself; there they receive every possible succour, and as their own feelings of animosity continue to exist, there is no difficulty in maintaining over them a close surveillance. . _rehim kuli khan_( - ). this prince succeeded to his father, and immediately found that he had enough to do with the djemshidi, a persian tribe inhabiting the eastern bank of the murgab, of whom the khivites had taken , tents with their chiefs, and had settled there as a colony on the bank of the oxus, near kilidjbay. on the other side the sarik, at that time masters of merv, began hostilities with the Özbegs. the younger brother of the khan, medemin inag, was sent against them with , horsemen; but on the dreadful journey between khiva and merv, many { } soldiers fell sick. as the emir of bokhara was at the same time besieging the city of hezaresp, the inag turned his arms quickly against the latter, defeated him, and then concluded a peace. about this time died rehim kuli khan, and . _mehemmed emin khan_ ( - ) seized the reins of government, to which not perhaps the law of inheritance (for the deceased khan left sons), but his former services, gave him a good claim. mehemmed emin khan is regarded as the most glorious monarch that khiva can boast in modern times; for he restored to the kingdom of kharezm, wherever possible, its ancient limits which it had lost years before; and at the same time, by the subjection of all the nomads in the surrounding country, he raised the reputation of the khanat, and considerably increased its revenues. two days had not elapsed after his having been raised to the white felt [footnote ]--a proceeding tantamount in khiva and khokand to accession to the throne--when he marched in person against the sarik, the bravest of all the turkoman tribes; for he longed to bring under his sceptre the fruitful plain of merv. after six campaigns he succeeded in capturing the citadel of merv as well as another fortress called yolöten, in the same vicinity. scarcely had he got back to khiva, when the sarik again rose in rebellion, and put to the sword the officer left in command at merv with the whole garrison. a new campaign was commenced with great rapidity, in which the djemshidi, old { } enemies of the sarik, also took part, and, led on by their chief mir mehemmed, were conquerors, and, to the chagrin and vexation of all the Özbeg heroes, made their triumphal entry into khiva. [footnote : the enacting of this ceremonial, i was told, has been ever since the time of genghis khan, and still is, the exclusive privilege of the grey-beards of the tribe of djagatay.] the sarik was consequently reduced to subjection: nevertheless the tekke, who at that time dwelt in karayap and kabukli, between merv and akhal, evincing feelings of hostility by refusing the payment of their yearly tribute, medemin saw himself forced again to use a sword, still reeking with turkoman blood, against another of these tribes. after three campaigns, during which many men and animals perished in the sandy desert, the khan succeeded in overpowering a part of the insurgents, and left a garrison composed of yomuts and Özbegs, under their two leaders, to keep them in check. by mishap differences broke out between the chieftains; the leader of the yomuts returned to khiva, and was there hurled down by order of the offended khan from the top of a lofty tower. this act made all the yomuts enemies of mehemmed emin; allying themselves secretly with the tekke, they were, a little later, the cause of his death. at this time medemin had collected a force of , horsemen, consisting of Özbegs and other tributary nomads; of these he despatched a part against the russians, who were then approaching khiva, and marching from the eastern shore of the sea of aral upon the entrenchments of khodja niyazbay. he proceeded with the rest of his forces to merv, with the intention of putting an end by a decisive blow to the never-ceasing disorders amongst the turkomans. he speedily took karayap, and was preparing to assail sarakhs { } (the ancient syrinx), when one day, whilst resting in his tent, pitched on a hill in the vicinity of merv, [footnote ] in the very centre of his camp, he was surprised by some daring hostile horsemen, and in spite of his cry, 'men hazret em' (i am the khan), his head was struck off, without any of his retinue having had time to hasten to his rescue. at the sight of the severed head, which the turkomans sent as a present to the shah of persia, [footnote ] a panic seized his troops, who retired nevertheless in good order, and whilst on their way called to the throne abdullah khan. [footnote : with respect to this hill we are told that it was here also that ebu muslim, the mighty vassal and afterwards enemy of the kahlifs of bagdad, met with his death.] [footnote : the shah, who had reason to dread medemin--for after the fall of sarakhs, he would certainly have assailed meshed--respected the gory head of his enemy, and had a small chapel built for it before the gate (d. dowlet). but he afterwards had it demolished because it was said that pious shiites might mistake it for the tomb of an imamzade, a holy shiite, and it might so give occasion to a sinful act.] . _abdullah khan_ ( - ). scarcely had this prince reached the alarmed capital when differences arose respecting the right to the throne, and seid mahmoud töre, a claimant who had some preferable right from seniority, drew his sword in the presence of all the mollahs and great personages, and avowed his intention to make good his claim by immediately striking the khan dead. he was first pacified and afterwards placed in confinement. the yomuts on their side had gained over two princes with the intent to place them on the throne; but their intrigue was discovered whilst it was yet time; the { } unfortunate princes were strangled; and as for the yomuts, their criminality being plain to all, it was determined to punish them. the khan advanced against them at the head of a few thousand horsemen but the yomuts protesting their innocence, and their grey-beards, with naked swords suspended from their necks (symbolising their submission), coming bare-footed to meet him, they were this time forgiven. two months later, the tribe again beginning to show hostile sentiments, the khan became incensed, assembled in great haste , horsemen, and attacked the yomuts who were in open rebellion. the affair terminated unfortunately. the Özbegs were put to flight; and when a search was made for the khan, it was found that he was amongst the first that had fallen, and that his body had been thrown with the others, without distinction of person, into a common grave. they named, as his successor, his younger brother, . _kutlug murad khan_ (reigned three months only). he had fought at the side of the late khan, and was returning covered with wounds. he soon armed afresh to continue the struggle that had cost his brother his life, when the chiefs of the yomuts made overtures of peace, with the promise that they would appear in khiva to do homage, and bring with them the cousin of the khan, who had fallen into their hands in the last engagement, and whom they had proclaimed khan. { } kutlug murad and his ministers put faith in these professions. the day was fixed for their appearance, when they appeared accordingly, but with a force of , men, and bringing with them their best horses and arms of parade. on the morning of the presentation, the khan received his cousin, and the latter, whilst in the act of embracing him, treacherously stabbed the sovereign with his poniard. the khan fell to the ground, and the turkomans rushed upon the royal servants who were present. during the consternation that prevailed, the mehter ascended the wall of the citadel, and, announcing from the battlements the atrocious crime, called upon the khivites to put to death all the yomuts within the walls of the city. the incensed populace attacked the turkomans, who, paralysed by fear, offered no resistance. they fell, not only by the weapons of khivites, but even by the knives of the women. the streets of khiva ran literally with blood, and it took six days' labour to dispose of the dead bodies. for a period of eight days after this butchery khiva remained without a sovereign. the crown was tendered to the formerly capable seid mahmoud töre; but his passionate fondness for the indulgence of the intoxicating opium was an obstacle, and he abdicated his rights in favour of his younger brother, . _seid mehemmed khan_ ( --still reigning). the incapacity of this prince is well known, and the reader has seen many instances of it. during this reign khiva has been much devastated by the civil war with the yomuts, and colonies founded by the previous khans have been ruined and unpeopled. whilst yomuts and Özbegs were thus destroying one { } another, and hurrying off mutually their women and children to slavery, the djemshidi making their way in, according to the proverb, 'inter duos litigantes tertius est gaudens,' and assailing the unarmed population, plundered the whole of khiva, from kitsdj baj to fitnek, and richly laden with spoil, and accompanied by , persian slaves, who had freed themselves in the confusion, returned to the banks of the murgab. poverty, cholera, pestilence, and depopulation led necessarily to a peace; then a pretender to the throne, supported by russian influence, named mehemmed penah, unfurled the banner of revolution, and despatched an embassy by manghishlak to astrakhan to implore the protection of the russian padishah. the intrigue took wind, and the envoys were put to death on their way. later, however, when the russian imperials (gold pieces) had been expended, mehemmed penah was murdered by his own partisans, and the ringleaders were formed into parcels (that is to say, they had their hands bound to their body with wetted leather), and were so forwarded to khiva, where a cruel end awaited them. { } chapter xviii. the city of bokhara. city of bokhara, its gates, quarters, mosques, colleges one founded by czarina catherine founded as seminaries not of learning but fanaticism bazaars police system severer than elsewhere in asia the khanat of bokhara inhabitants: Özbegs, tadjiks, kirghis, arabs, mervi, persians, hindoos, jews government different officials political divisions army summary of the history of bokhara. _. . . regnata cyro bactra . . . tanaisque discors._ horace, _ode_ iii. , - . ------ the circumference of bokhara, represented to me as a day's journey, i found actually not more than four miles. the environs, though tolerably well cultivated, are in this respect far inferior to the country around khiva. bokhara has eleven gates, [footnote ] and is divided into two principal parts, deruni shehr (inner city), and beruni shehr (outer city); and into several quarters, the chief of which are mahallei djuybar, khiaban, mïrekan, malkushan, sabungiran. although we have given { } the reader, in a preceding chapter, some idea of the great buildings and public places, we will here condense in a short account our particular observations. [footnote : dervaze imam, d. mezar, d. samarcand, d. oglau, d. talpatch, d. shirgiran, d. karaköl, d. sheikh djelal, d. namazgiah, d. salakhane, d. karshi.] _mosques_. the bokhariot pretends that his native city possesses mosques, counting the small as well as the large ones, so that the pious musselman may find a different one to attend each day in the year. i have not been able to discover more than the half of that number. the following are the only ones that deserve mention:-- . mesdjidi kelan, built by timour, but restored by abdullah khan, which is thronged on fridays, as the emir then says his prayers there. . mesdjidi divanbeghi, built, with the reservoir and medresse bearing the same name, by a certain nezr, ( ), who was divanbeghi (state secretary) of the emir imankuli khan. . mirekan. . mesdjidi mogak. this is a subterranean building, in which, according to one tradition, the primitive musselmans, according to another, the last fire-worshippers, held their meetings. the former version seems more probable; for, first, the guebres could have found more suitable spots outside of the city, in the open air; and secondly, many kufish inscriptions there point to an islamite origin. { } _medresse (colleges)._ the bokhariot prides himself upon the number of these colleges, and fixes them at his favourite figure, . there are, however, not more than . the most celebrated are the following:-- . the medresse kökeltash, built in ; it has cells, each of which costs from to tilla. [footnote ] the students in the first class receive an annual sum of five tillas. [footnote : on the first foundation of a medresse, the cells are given as presents, but the subsequent proprietors can only obtain them upon the payment of a fixed price.] . m. mirarab was erected in , and has cells, each of which costs from to tilla, and pays interest per cent. . koshmedresse (pair of colleges) of abdullah khan, built in . it has about cells, but not so valuable as the preceding ones. . m. djuybar was erected in , by a grandson of the great scholar and ascetic of the same name. it is most richly endowed; each cell pays tilla, but it is not very full, being at the extreme end of the city. . m. tursindjan, where each cell yields five tilla yearly. . m. emazar, founded by the czarina catherine, through her ambassador. it has cells, each paying three tilla. we may remark, generally, that the colleges of bokhara and samarcand are the cause why so high an idea not only prevailed throughout islam, but existed for a long time even amongst europeans, as to the learning of the superior schools in central asia. the readiness to make the sacrifice which the foundation of such establishments supposes, may by a superficial observer be easily mistaken and ascribed to a higher motive. { } unhappily, merely blind fanaticism lies at the root; and the same thing occurs here as took place during the middle ages, for, with the exception of what is given in a few books upon mantik (logic) and hikmet (philosophy), there is no instruction at all but in the koran, and religious casuistry. now and then, perhaps, one may be found who would like to busy himself with poetry and history, but his studies must be in secret, as it is regarded as a disgrace to devote oneself to any such frivolous subjects. the aggregate number of students has been represented to me as about , ; they flock thither, not merely out of all parts of central asia, but also from india, kashmir, afghanistan, russia, and china. the poorer receive an annual pension from the emir, for it is by means of these medresse, and its severe observance of islamism, that bokhara is able to exercise a spiritual influence upon neighbouring countries. _bazaars._ there are none here like those in the chief cities of persia. very few are vaulted or built of stone; the larger ones are covered over either with wood or reed mattings laid across long perches. [footnote ] [footnote : they are separated into different parts, as tirm abdullah khan, the above-mentioned prince, had them built according to persian models on his return from persia in . restei suzenghiran, haberdashers; r. saraffan, where the money-changers and booksellers station themselves; r. zergheran, workers in gold; r. tchilingheran, locksmiths; r. attari, dealers in spices; r. kannadi, confectioners; r. tchayfurnshi, tea-dealers; r. tchitfuroshi, dealers in chintz; bazari latta, linendrapers; timche darayfurushi, grocers; and so on.] { } each bazaar has its particular aksakal, responsible to the emir for order, as well as for taxes. in addition to the bazaars there are, perhaps, altogether about thirty small karavanserais, used partly as warehouses, and partly for the reception of strangers. _police._ the system of police in bokhara is more severe than in any other city of known parts of asia. by day the reis himself perambulates the bazaars and public places, and he sends out his numerous dependents and spies; and about two hours after sunset no one dares to show himself in the streets, neighbour cannot visit neighbour, and the sick man runs the risk of perishing for want of medical aid, for the emir has declared that the mirshebs (night-watchers) may even arrest himself should they meet him abroad during the forbidden hours. the khanat of bokhara. _inhabitants._ the actual frontiers of the khanat are: on the east, the khanat of khokand, and the mountains of bedakhshan; on the south, the oxus, with the districts on the further side, kerki and chardjuy; on the west and north, the great desert. the positive line of demarcation cannot be defined, and it is equally impossible to fix the number of inhabitants. without going too far, they may, perhaps, be set down at two millions and a half, consisting generally { } of those having fixed habitations and those leading a nomad life, or, if we take the principle of nationality, of Özbegs, tadjiks, kirghis, arabs, mervi, persians, hindoos, and jews. _Özbegs_. the Özbegs, part of the thirty-two tribes, are already particularised in our account of khiva, but they are sensibly distinguishable from the kindred race in kharezm, both by the conformation of the face and by the character. the Özbeg bokhariots have dwelt in closer connection with the tadjiks than the khivites have done with the sarts, and have consequently paid the penalty by losing much of their national type, and of their Özbeg straightforwardness and honesty. as the dominant population in the khanat (for the emir himself is also an Özbeg of the tribe manghit), the Özbegs form the nerve of the army, but the superior officers are rarely taken out of their ranks. _tadjiks._ the tadjiks, the aboriginal inhabitants of all the cities of central asia, are represented still in the greatest number here; hence bokhara is the only place where the tadjik can point to his origin with pride, assigning as he does, for frontiers to his primitive fatherland, khorasan, [footnote ] khoten (in china) to the east, the caspian to the west, khodjend to the north, and india to the south. it is a pity that this people, in spite of the high antiquity of their origin, and their { } grandeur in time gone by, should have attained the very highest stage of vice and profligacy: if they are to be taken as a specimen of antique asia, the cradle of our race, it must, indeed, have presented in those early ages a sorry appearance. [footnote : khor means 'sun,' and son 'district;' hence the whole word signifies 'district of the sun.'] _kirghis._ kirghis [footnote ] or kasaks, as they style themselves, are not numerous in the khanat of bokhara, but we will, nevertheless, record here a few notes which we have made respecting this people, numerically the greatest, and by the peculiarity of its nomad life the most original, in central asia. [footnote : kir means field, gis or gez is the root of the word gizmelt (wander). the word kirghiz signifies, in turkish, a man that wanders about the fields, a nomad, and is used to denote all nations leading the pastoral life. it is also employed to designate a tribe; but they are only a subdivision of the kazaks, to be met with in khokand in the vicinity of hazneti in turkestan.] i have often, in my wanderings, fallen upon particular encampments of kirghis, and whenever i wished to acquire information as to their number, they laughed at me, and said, 'count first the sand in the desert, and then you may number the kirghis.' there is the same impossibility in defining their frontiers. we know only that they inhabit the great desert that lies between siberia, china, turkestan, and the caspian sea; and such localities to move in, as well as their social condition, suffice to show how likely we are to err when we at one time ascribe kirghis to the russian dominions, and at another transfer them to the chinese. russia, china, khokand, { } bokhara, and khiva, exercise dominion over the kirghis only so long as the taxing officers, whom they send, sojourn amongst those nomads. the kirghis regard the whole procedure as a _razzia_ on a gigantic scale, and they are grateful to find that those who commit it are content to receive merely a percentage or some tax that is tantamount. the revolutions that have taken place in the world for hundreds, nay, perhaps thousands of years, have wrought very little influence upon the kirghis; it is, therefore, in this nation, which we can never behold as one mass, but in small sections, that we especially see the most faithful picture of those customs and usages which characterise the turani races of ancient times, and which constitute so extraordinary a mingling of savage qualities and of virtues. we are surprised to perceive in them so great a disposition to music and poetry; but their aristocratical pride is particularly remarkable. when two kirghis meet, the first question is, 'who are thy seven fathers--ancestors?' [footnote ] the person addressed, even if a child in his eighth year, has always his answer ready, for otherwise he would be considered as very ill-bred. [footnote : 'yeti atang kimdir.'] in bravery the kirghis is inferior to the Özbeg, and still more so to the turkoman. islamism, with the former, is on a far weaker footing than with the others i have mentioned. nor are any of them, except the wealthy bays, accustomed to search the cities for mollahs to exercise the functions of teachers, chaplains, and secretaries at a fixed salary, payable in sheep, horses, and camels. { } the kirghis, even after frequent contact, must still, in the eyes of us europeans, appear wonderful beings. we behold in them men who, whether the heat is scorching or the snow a fathom deep, move about for hours daily in search of a new spot for their purpose: men who have never heard bread even named, and who support themselves only upon milk and meat. the kirghis look upon those who have settled down in town or country as sick or insane persons, and they compassionate all whose faces have not the pure mongol conformation. according to their aesthetic views, that race stands at the very zenith for beauty; for god made it with bones prominent like those of the horse--an animal, in their eyes, the crowning work of creation. . _arabs_. these arabs are the descendants of those warriors who, under kuteïbe, in the time of the third khalif, took part in the conquest of turkestan, where they subsequently settled. they retain, however, with the exception of their physiognomy, very little resemblance to their brethren in hedjaz or arak. i found very few of them who even spoke arabic. their number is said to be , , and they are mostly settled in the environs of vardanzi and vafkend. { } . _mervi._ the mervi are the descendants of the , persians transplanted from merv to bokhara by the emir said khan, when about the year he took that city by aid of the sarik. the race sprang originally from the turks of azerbaydjan and karabag, whom nadir shah transferred from their ancient homes to merv. next to the tadjiks, the mervi is the most cunning amongst the inhabitants of bokhara, but he is far from being so cowardly as the former. . _persians_. the persians in bokhara are partly slaves, partly such as have paid their own ransom and then settled in the khanat. here, in spite of all religious oppression--for as shiites they can only practise their religion in secret--they readily apply themselves to trade and handicraft, because living is here cheaper and the gain easier than in their own country. the persian, so far superior in capacity to the inhabitants of central asia, is wont to elevate himself from the position of slave to the highest offices in the state. there are hardly any governors in the province who do not employ in some office or other persians, who were previously his slaves, and who have remained faithful to him. they swarm even in the immediate proximity of the present emir, and the first dignitaries in the khanat belong to the same nation. in bokhara, the persians are looked upon as men more disposed to intercourse with the frenghis; men who have knowledge of diabolical arts: but the emir would bitterly rue it if persia threatened him with invasion, which it had already thought of; for with his army in its present state, he could do but little; the chief commanders, shahrukh khan, mehemmed hasan khan, also are persians; and their toptchibashi, chiefs of artillery, zeinel bey, mehdi bey, and lesker bey, belong to the same nation. { } . _hindoos_. of hindoos there are but . they form no families, and, scattered throughout the capital and provinces, they have in some wonderful manner got all the management of money into their hands, there being no market, not even a village, where the hindoo is not ready to act as usurer. bowing with the deepest submissiveness, like the armenian in turkey, he nevertheless all the time fleeces the Özbeg in fearful fashion; and as the pious kadi for the most part carries on business in common with the worshipper of vishnoo, it is rarely that the victim escapes. . _jews_. the jews in the khanat are about , in number, dwelling for the most part in bokhara, samarcand, and karshi, and occupying themselves rather with handicrafts than with commerce. in their origin they are jews from persia, and have wandered hither from kazvin and merv, about years ago. they live here under the greatest oppression, and exposed to the greatest contempt. they only dare to show themselves on the threshold when they pay a visit to a 'believer;' and again, when they receive visitors, they are bound in all haste to quit their own houses, and station themselves before their doors. in the city of bokhara they yield yearly , tilla djizie (tribute), which the chief of their whole community pays in, receiving, as he does so, two slight blows on the cheek, prescribed by the koran as a sign of submission. the rumour of the privileges accorded to { } the jews in turkey has attracted some to damascus, and other places in syria; but this emigration can only occur secretly, otherwise they would have to atone for the very wish by confiscation or death. it is surprising what a letter correspondence is maintained by them through the hadjis proceeding every year from turkestan to mecca. my companions also had charge of many letters, which they everywhere delivered at the addresses indicated. _government._ the form of government in bokhara has retained very few of the primitive persian or arabian characteristics, the turco-mongolian element predominating, and giving its tone to the whole. although powerfully influenced by its hierarchy, the constitution is a military despotism. at its head stands the emir, as generalissimo, prince, and chief of religion. the military and civil dignitaries are divided into (_a_) kette sipahi (higher functionaries), (_b_) orta sipahi (middle functionaries), and (_c_) ashaghi sipahi. to the first two classes it is the rule to admit only urukdar (personages of good family), for they are nominated on account of yerlik (handwriting), or billig (insignia). [footnote ] a practice, however, of appointing emancipated persian slaves is of old date. [footnote : yerlik and billig are old turkish words, the former signifying 'writing'--the root is yer, hungarian ir, turkish yaz; the latter meaning 'mark,' in hungarian bélyeg.] { } the following list or sketch furnishes a view of the different functionaries, from the emir downwards:-- a. kette sipahi . atalik. . divanbeghi (secretary of state). . pervanedji, the 'butterfly man,' as he is termed at court, because he is sent about by the emir in different directions, on important errands. b. orta sipahi . tokhsabay, properly tughsahibi (one who has as a banner a tugh or horse's tail). . inag. . miakhor (constable). c. ashaghi sipahi . choragasi, properly chehre agasi (the 'face-man'), so called because at the audience he stands facing the emir. . mirzabasbi (principal writer). . yasaulbeghi and kargaulbeghi. . yüzbashi. . pendjabashi. . onbashi. besides these, we have still to mention the officers about the emir's person and court. at their head stands the kushbeghi, or vizir, the mehter, desturkhandji (steward), and zekiatchi (receiver of the customs). the latter, in his quality of finance minister, is also chief master of the emir's household. next come the mehrem (chamberlains), whose number varies with circumstances. these are sent, upon extraordinary occasions, as commissioners into the provinces. every subject, if not content with the decision of the governor as to his right, can appeal to the emir, whereupon a mehrem is assigned to him, as attorney, who travels back with him to his province, examines the affair, and lays it before the emir for his final decision. there are, besides, odadji (door-keepers), bakaul (provision-masters), and selamagasi, { } who on public processions return, instead of the emir, the salutation 've aleïkum es selam.' these functions and offices exist only nominally under the present emir, whose aversion to all display or pomp has made him leave many vacant. _the political division of the khanat._ the political division of the khanat, like that of khiva, is based upon the number of its large cities, and bokhara consists at present of the following districts, which we here prefer to classify according to their size and population:-- . karaköl; . bokhara; . karshi; . samarcand; . kerki; . hissar; . miyankal, or kermineh; . kette kurgan; . chardjuy; . djizzak; . oratepe; . shehri sebz. the latter equals samarcand in size, but, owing to its continual struggles with the emir, cannot be considered as wholly subject to the khanat. governors of the rank of divanbeghi, or pervanedjis, have allowed to them a fixed share in the revenue of the province under their administration, but in extraordinary emergencies they are obliged to forego the claim. under the direct orders of each governor there is a tokhsaboy, a mirzabashi, a yasaulbeghi, and several mirakhor and chohragasi. { } _army._ the standing army of the khanat is stated to consist of , horsemen, but can be raised to , . of these troops bokhara and karshi are said to supply the greater proportion; the former are especially renowned for their bravery. such is the account of their numbers current in bokhara, but i have found it exaggerated; because the emir, in his campaign against khokand, where his army never exceeded , men, was forced to maintain an auxiliary force at a heavy expense--an expense which the stingy mozaffar-ed-din never would have incurred, if the foregoing computation had been correct. the pay, only made in time of war, consists of tenghe (about _s_. _d_.) monthly, with which the horseman has to keep himself and horse. in addition to this, half the booty made belongs to the soldiery. it is really singular that, with the great population subject to him, the prince sets no greater native force on foot; singular, also, that he takes no auxiliaries from the , ersari who are tributary to him, but prefers applying to the tekke, or even taking sariks into his service, at a yearly expense of , tilla. _short outline of the history of bokhara._ efrasiab, the great turani warrior, and one of the greatest heroes of ancient iran, is regarded as the founder of bokhara. extravagant fables form the basis of its earlier history. of the accounts which they embody, we only accept the following fact, that the incursions of the turkish hordes were from the oldest times the terror of those districts whose persian population had separated themselves from their brethren in iran so early as the epoch of the pishdadian. the first thread of real history, properly so called, only begins at the epoch of the occupation by { } the arabs; and we can only regret that these daring adventurers have not transmitted to us more notices than those which we find scattered in the pages of tarikhi taberi and some other arabian authorities. islam did not so easily as in other countries strike its roots in mavera-ül nehr (the land between the oxus and the jaxartes), and the arabs found, on their return to the different cities after an absence of any duration, that the work of proselytism had ever to be begun afresh. up to the time of its conquest by djenghis khan ( ), bokhara and samarcand, as well as the city, at that time considerable, of merv (mervi shah djihan or merv, 'king of the world'), karshi (nakhsheb), and belkh (um-ül bilad, 'mother of cities'), were regarded as belonging to persia, although the government of khorasan, as it was then called, was the subject of an extraordinary firman of investiture from bagdad. on the invasion of the mongols, the persian element was entirely supplanted, the Özbegs everywhere seized the reins of government, and timour, the lame conqueror from shehri sebz (green city), was satisfied with nothing less than making samarcand the capital of all asia. the design perished with him, and the special history, properly so called, of bokhara begins with the house of the sheïbani, whose founder, ebulkheir khan, broke the power of the descendants of timour in their hereditary dominions. a grandson of the last sheïbani mehemmed khan enlarged the limits of bokhara from khodjend to herat; and when he ventured to attack meshed also, he was defeated by shah ismael, and perished in ( ), in the battle. one of the ablest amongst his successors was abdullah khan (born ). { } he conquered bedakhshan, herat, and meshed afresh, and, from his efforts in favour of civilisation and commerce, deserves to be placed at the side of the great sovereign of persia, shah abbas ii. in his time the routes of bokhara were provided with karavanserais and fine bridges, the ways through the deserts with cisterns for water; and the ruins of all his constructions of this description still bear his name. his son, abdul mumin khan, ( ), was unable to retain long his seat on the throne; he was murdered; and after the invasion of the kirghis chief tököl, who laid all the country waste, fell even the last offspring of the house of sheïbani. in the long disturbance and civil war that ensued, the candidates who disputed the throne were especially veli mehemmed khan (a remote collateral representative of the sheïbani), and baki mehemmed khan; and as the latter, ( ), fell in battle at samarcand, the former founded his dynasty, which is said to have survived at the time of ebul feïz khan, who, in , was compelled to implore nadir shah for peace. in the period that succeeds, the sovereigns who have most distinguished themselves have been imamkuli khan, and nazir mehemmed khan. by their liberal support of the ishan class, they have contributed much to the religious fanaticism that exists in bokhara, and which has reached there, as well as throughout turkestan, such a point as was never before attained by islam in any age or country. ebul feïz was treacherously murdered by his own vizir rehim khan, as was also his son after him. subsequently to the death of the murderer, who had governed under the title of vizir, but with independent authority, danial beg, of the race of the mangit, seized the reins of government. he was succeeded by the emirs shah murad, said khan, and nasrullah khan. { } as the history of the three last-mentioned sovereigns has been already handled by malcolm, burnes, and khanikoff, and as we can adduce no fresh materials, we leave that period untouched. but we propose in a subsequent chapter to treat of the war waged by bokhara with khokand during the last three years. { } chapter xix. khanat of khokand. inhabitants division khokand tashkend khodjend mergolan endidjan hazneti turkestana oosh political position recent wars. khokand, or fergana as the ancients style it, is bounded on the east by chinese tartary, on the west by bokhara and the jaxartes, on the north by the great horde of nomads, and on the south by karateghin and bedakhshan. its superficial extent we cannot positively affirm; but it is certainly larger than the territory of either bokhara or khiva. it is also better peopled than the latter khanat. judging by the number of cities and other circumstances, khokand, at the present day, may be said to contain more than three millions of inhabitants, consisting of the following races:--( ) Özbegs form that part of the population having fixed habitations; and, as i remarked when i spoke of khiva, they have a type quite distinct from the Özbegs either of that khanat or of bokhara. as the Özbegs have been for hundreds of years the dominant race in turkestan, and adopted the institutions of islam earlier than any other nomad people of these parts, the name itself has become invested with a certain prestige of { } breeding and _bon ton_, so that the kirghis, kiptchak, and kalmuk, from the moment that they settle in cities, generally abandon their several nationalities, and assume the denomination of Özbegs. in khokand this has been also long the case, and it may be affirmed, without exaggeration, that half of those who so style themselves are to be regarded merely as a mixture of the nomad races just referred to. judging from his outside appearance, as he presents himself in his clumsy loose clothes, the Özbeg of khokand seems a very helpless person. we had many opportunities of witnessing his unexampled cowardice, and had it not been for the protection of the nomads, his cities would have long fallen under the dominion of china, russia, or bokhara. ( ) next to the Özbegs come the tadjiks, who, although they may not constitute a more numerous, still form a more compact population here than in the khanat of bokhara, and, as is nowhere else the case, people entire villages and towns. accordingly, the city of khodjend, the villages velekendaz and kisakuz (near khodjend) are exclusively inhabited by this primitive persian race, and the important cities of namengan, [footnote ] endigan, and mergolan, are said to have belonged to them more than four hundred years ago. [footnote : these three words respectively signify ( )nemengan (originally nemek kohn), salt mine; ( ) endekgan, from endek, small; and ( ) murghinan, hen and bread. these etymologies i learnt from my friends; perhaps they are not to be received as absolutely correct, but their persian origin is unquestionable.] { } as far as their national character is concerned, the tadjiks of khokand are not much better than those of the same race in bokhara. the sole circumstance i find noticeable is that their language, both in its grammatical forms and its vocabulary, is purer than that of the other tadjiks. this is particularly the case in khodjend, the inhabitants of which make use of a dialect that has retained many of the forms of expression observable in the writings of the oldest persian poet rudeki, by birth a bokhariot. in the other cities of khokand, particularly in those on the chinese frontiers, tadjiks are rarely met with. ( ) kasaks form the majority in the khanat. they lead a nomad life in the mountainous districts between the lake of tchaganak and tashkend, and pay to their prince the same amount of tribute as they do in khiva to the khan. amongst the kirghis of khokand some are in affluent circumstances, possessing in hazreti turkestan, or in other places, houses, which, however, they do not themselves inhabit. in other respects, in spite of their superiority in number, the kirghis have, owing to their want of bravery, little influence in the khanat. ( ) kirghis--or the kirghis properly so called, a tribe of the great kasak horde--live in the southern part of the khanat between khokand and sarik köl, and from their warlike qualities are always made use of by the different factions to carry out their revolutionary projects. their tents are said to be fifty thousand in number, consequently they are about as numerous as the tekke turkomans. ( ) the kiptchak are, in my opinion, the primitive original turkish race. amongst all the branches of this great family, spread from komul to as far as the adriatic sea, the kiptchaks have remained most faithful in { } physiognomy and character, language and customs, to their ancestral type. the name, the etymology of which has been clouded with fables by rashideddin tabibi, has little interest for the reader. there is said to have been formerly a mighty nation bearing the same designation, and the kiptchaks of the present day, although counting only from five to six thousand tents, pretend that deshti kiptchak, [footnote ] as turkestan is named in the documents of oriental history, was conquered, and peopled by their ancestors. notwithstanding their small numbers, the kiptchaks continue to exercise, even at the present day, the greatest influence upon political affairs in khokand. they nominate the khans, and sometimes even dethrone them; and often five hundred of their horsemen have taken possession of a city, without the khan daring to resist them. i have not been able to detect, in the turkish that they speak, a single persian or arabic word, and their dialect may be regarded as the best point of transition from the mongolian language to that of the djagatai. the same remark may be made respecting the type of their physiognomy as of their language; for these stand in a similar relation to those of the other races of central asia. in their slanting eyes, beardless chins, and prominent cheekbones, they resemble the mongols, and are for the most part of small stature, but extraordinary agility. in bravery they stand, as was remarked before, superior to all nations of central asia, and form, incontestably, the truest specimen remaining to us of the immense hordes that revolutionised all asia. [footnote : deshti kiptchak as far as the frontiers of bolgar (in russia?) is the denomination most in use.] { } with respect to its divisions, the khanat of khokand falls into different districts, designated here, too, only by the names of the most remarkable cities. its capital is khokand, [footnote ] or kokhandi latif ('enchanting khokand'), as it is termed by the natives. it lies in a beautiful valley, and is in circumference six times as large as khiva, three times as bokhara, and four times as teheran. the southern portion of the city, in which the khan has his palace, was not, until recently, surrounded by a wall. the northern part is open. the number of inhabitants and houses is proportionately small. the latter are surrounded by large orchards, so that one often requires a quarter of an hour to pass by ten or fifteen houses. as for the architecture, the khokandi is in the habit of admitting the superiority of that of bokhara; and from this circumstance one may easily form an idea of the architectural beauty of the city. only four mosques are of stone, as is also a small portion of the extensive bazaar. in this they expose for sale, at low prices, exclusively russian merchandise, and the native silk and woollen manufactures; besides which tasty articles in leather, saddles, whips, and equipments for riding, made in the capital, enjoy a high repute. [footnote : the word khokand is said to be derived from khob-kend, 'beautiful place' or 'village.'] after khokand, tashkend deserves to be mentioned. it is the first commercial town in the khanat, and, as i heard on all sides, is at present the residence of many affluent merchants, having extensive trading relations with orenburg and kizildjar (petropavlosk). tashkend, which has the transit trade between bokhara, khokand, and chinese tartary, is one of the most { } important cities of central asia; and at the same time the object towards which russia is quietly striving, and from which her most advanced frontier (kalè rehim) is within a few days' journey. once in possession of tashkend, a place important also in a military point of view, russia would find little difficulty in possessing herself of the khanats of bokhara and khokand, for what might prove difficult for the russian bayonet would be facilitated by intestine discord, the flames of which the court of st. petersburg never ceases to foment between the two khanats. after tashkend the following are the most remarkable places: khodjend, that has about , houses, many manufactories for aladja (a sort of cotton stuff), eighteen medresse, and twice that number of mosques; mergolan, a large city, the principal city of khokandi learning and the present residence of the khodja buzurk, chief of the order of the makhdum aazam. this dignitary refused his blessing to the present emir of bokhara on his triumphant entry into the city, and the latter did not venture, nor was he in fact able in any way to punish him. endidjan, where the best atresz (heavy substantial silks) in the khanat are manufactured; namengan, about which the kiptchaks are located. the following also deserve mentioning:--hazreti turkestana with the grave there, in high repute, of khodj ahmed jaszavi, the author of a book (meshreb) [footnote ] upon morals and religion, which is even at the present day a favourite work both amongst the nomads and the settlers in khokand; { } shehri menzil and djust, where the famous knives are manufactured which, after those of hissar, fetch the highest price in turkestan; shehrikhan, a place where the best silk is produced; and oosh, on the eastern frontier of the khanat, called takhti suleiman, suleiman's throne, which is visited yearly by a great number of pilgrims; the place of pilgrimage itself consists of a hill in the city of oosh where, amidst the ruins of an old edifice built of large square stones and ornamented by columns, the visitor is first shown, not only a throne hewn out of marble, but the place where adam, the first prophet (according to the teachings of islam), tilled the ground. the latter fable was introduced very _apropos_, as the inventor wished to accustom the nomads to agriculture through the medium of their religion. [footnote : i was able to bring back with me to europe a copy of this very original book written in turkish, which i hope to publish with a translation.] anyhow, oosh is not without interest to our antiquarians. the ruins themselves, and particularly the columns, as they were described to me, lead to the suspicion of a grecian origin; and if we were searching for the most eastern colony founded by alexander, we might readily suppose oosh to be the very spot where the daring macedonian marked by some monument the most easterly frontier of his gigantic empire. [footnote ] [footnote : appian mentions (de rebus syriacis, lvii.) many cities founded by the greeks and by seleucus, amongst others one [greek text], of which pliny (vi. ) seems to speak when he says: 'ultra sogdiana, oppidum tarada, et in ultimis eorum finibus alexandria ab alexandro magno conditum.' that point or its vicinity seems to have marked the extreme limit of progress on that side of all the great conquerors of classical antiquity; for there, says pliny, were altars placed by hercules, bacchus, cyrus, semiramis, and alexander: 'finis omnium eorum ductus ab illâ parte terrarum, includente flumine jaxarte, quod scythae silin vocant.' and indeed with respect to the city 'alexandreschata' arrian (_exped. alexand_. . iv. c. i. , and c. iv. ), agrees with pliny, telling us that this great hero intended it as a barrier against the people on the further bank of the river, and colonised it with macedonian veterans, greek mercenaries, and such of the adjacent barbarians as were so disposed. this city was built on the banks of the jaxartes, and most consider it to be the modern khodjend. what if oosh should have been the spot where stood the columns of alexander (_curtius_, vii. )? and yet the supposition that alexander firmly possessed himself of any land beyond the jaxartes is hardly consistent with the account of arrian. curtius ( . vii. ) describes the remains of the altars of bacchus as 'monuments consisting of stones arranged at numerous intervals, and eight lofty trees with their stems covered with ivy.'] { } with respect to the political position of the khanat of khokand, its independence dates as far back as that of bokhara and khiva. the present reigning family pretends to descend in a direct line from djenghis khan, which is very improbable, as his family was dethroned by timour; and after baber, the last descendant of timour in khokand, the sheïbani, as well as other chieftains from the races kiptchak and kirghis, seized alternately the reins of government. the family at present on the throne, or perhaps, i should rather say, now disputing its claim to it with bokhara, is of kiptchak origin, and has only been years at the head of affairs. the institutions in khokand bear very slight traces of arabian or persian elements, and the yaszao djenghis (code of djenghis) is the legal authority which they follow. here also a singular ceremonial deserves notice. the khan at his coronation is raised in the air upon a white felt, and shoots arrows to the north, south, east, and west. [footnote ] [footnote : it is singular that this custom exists even in the present day at the coronation of kings in hungary. the king on the hill of coronation, on horseback, and invested with all the insignia of royalty, is required to brandish his sword respectively to the four points of the compass.] { } a. the war between bokhara and khokand in the time of the emir nasrullah. the animosity between khokand and bokhara is of ancient date. after the sheïbani family began to take the head of affairs in turkestan, khokand, with the exception of some cities still held by the kiptchaks, was incorporated into the khanat of bokhara. it tore itself away again afterwards, and during its independence attached itself to its neighbours, kashgar, yarkend, and khoten, then also still independent; but after these latter states had been themselves incorporated by the emperor of china into his dominions, khokand, as its enemies to the east seemed too powerful, thought itself bound to recommence its differences with bokhara, and the war that was going on during our stay in central asia was only a continuation of the struggle that mehemmed ali, khan of khokand, and his rival the emir nasrullah, had begun. mehemmed ali khan is termed by the khokandi their greatest monarch in recent times. whilst this prince, by extending the frontiers and by advancing internal prosperity, had on the one hand contributed much to lend a certain splendour to his khanat, yet on the other he had in the same degree stimulated the envious cupidity of the wicked emir nasrullah. { } but what most displeased the latter was that the khan should have formed a friendly alliance with khiva, the principal enemy of bokhara, and should have given a friendly reception to the emir's own uncle and rival, who had fled to khokand for safety. others also assign as an additional cause the hospitality they had shown to captain conolly; but in any case abundant ground of dissension existed, and a rupture was regarded as inevitable. in , mehemmed ali, having defeated the russians at shehidan, [footnote ] considered a contest with the emir as near at hand; and, himself preferring to be the assailant, marched towards the frontiers of bokhara in the vicinity of oratepe, and was already threatening djizzak and samarcand, when the emir, after vainly trying intrigues, marched against him with a superior force of Özbeg horsemen and of the newly-formed militia (serbaz), under the conduct of their chief and organiser abdul-samed khan. upon this mehemmed ali held it prudent to retreat. nasrullah laid siege to oratepe, which, after three months, he took; but his treatment of the inhabitants made them his bitterest enemies: and scarcely had he returned to bokhara, when, having a secret understanding with mehemmed ali, they fell upon the bokhariot garrison and massacred all, soldiers as well as officers. [footnote : according to the account of this affair given by the khokandi, a strong detachment of cossacks, after having gone round hazreti turkestan from the right bank of the jaxartes, had advanced towards tashkend, and on their march were surprised and dispersed by the khokandi with great loss.] { } as soon as the intelligence of this event was conveyed to nasrullah, he in the greatest haste, and in still greater anger, called together all his forces and marched against oratepe. mehemmed ali again retreated, and was accompanied by a great part of the inhabitants who feared the incensed emir; but this time escape was impossible: his enemy followed him step by step until he could retreat no further. in the battle which then took place at khodjend, he was defeated, and the city became the prize of the conqueror. the khan again retreated, but, finding himself still pursued and even his capital menaced, he sent a flag of truce to his victorious enemy. a peace was concluded at kohne badem, by which mehemmed ali bound himself to cede khodjend with many other places. that such conditions were little calculated to lead to a sincere reconciliation is easily intelligible. the malicious emir, intending still further to offend his vanquished enemy, named as governor of the conquered province the brother and rival of mehemmed ali, who had previously fled to bokhara. but nevertheless he was here wrong in his calculation. the mother of the two khokandi princes reconciled them, and before the emir had got wind of what had occurred, khodjend and the other cities united themselves again with khokand, and he had now to measure himself with two enemies instead of one. the fury of the bokhariot tyrant knew no bounds, nor is it difficult to understand that his thirst for revenge would prompt him to make extraordinary armaments. in addition to his ordinary army, consisting of , horsemen and , serbaz, he took into his pay , turkomans of the tekke and salor tribes, and hurrying with forced marches towards { } khokand, he took mehemmed ali so by surprise that he was even obliged to fly from his own capital, but, overtaken and made prisoner near mergolan, he was, with his brother and two sons, executed ten days afterwards in his own capital. [footnote ]after him most of his immediate partisans fell by the hands of the executioners, and their property was confiscated. the emir returned to bokhara laden with booty, having first left ibrahim bi, a mervi by birth, with a garrison of , soldiers in the conquered city. [footnote : to excuse this act of shame, nasrullah spread the report that mehemmed ali had married his own mother, and had consequently been punished by death.] three months had scarcely elapsed when the kiptchaks, who had until now observed a neutrality, weary of the bokhariots, took the city, made its garrison prisoners, and set on the throne shir ali khan, son of mehemmed ali. [footnote ] in order to prevent being a second time surprised as before, the khokandi now conceived the idea of surrounding a portion of the city, where the residence of the khan was, with a wall; the plan { } was soon carried out by the forced labour of the prisoners of war, who had formed part of the emir's garrison. it was to be anticipated that the emir would seek his revenge; no one, therefore, was surprised to see soon after this occurrence , bokhariots, under the conduct of a khokandi pretender to the throne, an old _protegé_ of nasrullah, make their appearance before khokand. but even on the march musselman kul (so he was named) appeared to have reconciled himself with his countrymen; the gates of the city were soon opened to him; and although nasrullah had sent him hither with the promise of making him khan, his first step was to turn his arms against that prince, and, joining with his countrymen, to put to flight the bokhariots who had escorted him thither. [footnote : the genealogy of the reigning house in khokand, beginning with mehemmed ali, is as follows:--] mehemmed ali ( ). | shir ali |--------------------------------- | | (a) by first wife. (b) by second wife. | | mollah khan. ---------------------------------- sofi beg. | | | sarimsak. sultan murad. khudayar. | | shah murad. several young children. the emir, although now four times overreached, still would not give way, but again sent an army under the command of shahrukh khan, who already held the rank of commander-in-chief. [footnote ] but the latter did not advance beyond oratepe, for the news that the emir had fallen sick at samarcand, and had subsequently returned to bokhara, put an end to the whole campaign. a few days after the illness had attacked the prince, the world was freed by his death of one of the greatest of tyrants. [footnote : the infamous abdul samed khan, the murderer of conolly, stoddart, and naselli, had in the meantime been overtaken by a righteous punishment. the emir, who had sent him to shehri-sebz, was at last convinced of his treason, and, not being able to reach him by forcible means, sought to employ artifice to get possession of his person. abdul samed evaded his fate a long time, but finally fell into the snare laid for him, and, aware of the presence of the executioner in the ante-room, he rent up his belly with his own poniard, to irritate by his death a master so like himself in character.] { } i heard from good authority that the death of the emir nasrullah was solely owing to a paroxysm of rage at the constant ill success that attended his campaigns against khokand, and the unprecedented obstinacy with which the city of sheri-sebz [footnote ] resisted, for although he had taken the field thirty times against it, and had been then besieging it six months, it was all without effect. upon this occasion his adversary was a certain veliname, whose sister he had married to obtain by the connection a faithful vassal in the brother of his wife. now it happened that the news of the capture reached the emir when on his deathbed; although half senseless, the tyrant ordered his rebel brother-in-law to be put to death with all his children. but as circumstances prevented him from feasting his eyes with that spectacle of blood, in the evening, a few hours before his death, he summoned to his presence his wife, the sister of veliname; the unhappy woman, who had borne him two children, trembled, but the dying emir was not softened--she was executed close to his couch, and the abominable tyrant breathed his last breath with his glazing eye fixed upon the gushing blood of the sister of his detested enemy. [footnote : sheri-sebz, previously named kesh, is the native city of timour, and renowned for the warlike character of its inhabitants.] { } b. the war between bokhara and khokand waged by the emir mozaffar-ed-din. in the meantime affairs in khokand had taken a different turn. musselman kul had been put to death, and in his place khudayar khan had been raised to the 'white felt.' at his first accession, the latter showed great ardour and activity. he was engaged victoriously in several combats with the russians, who were pressing on from the jaxartes. whilst he was thus occupied on the frontiers, mollah khan was nominated khan in his capital; but as he had only inconsiderable forces to oppose to those of his rival, he thought it better to fly to bokhara, and seek the aid of the emir mozaffar-ed-din for the recovery of his throne. this prince, immediately after the death of his father, besieged the city sheri-sebz, which, in spite of the vengeance of which it had already been the object, and the blood that had flowed there, was again in open revolt. he was before the walls of tchiragtchi, a stronghold belonging to sheri-sebz, when the intelligence reached him that the governor of oratepe, a native of sheri-sebz, had allied himself with the khokandi, and that mollah khan was already marching at their head against djizzak. the emir mozaffar-ed-din, urged on by his guest and _protegé_, khudayar khan, could not restrain himself. he abandoned his position before sheri-sebz, although he was pressing it hard, and rushed at the head of , men against khokand, whose khan (mollah khan) threatened, from his acknowledged ability, to prove a formidable antagonist. adopting the unscrupulous policy of his father, mozaffar-ed-din caused him to be assassinated in a conspiracy which the emir had himself set on foot. in the great confusion that ensued, he next made himself master of the capital, and then set khudayar at the head of the government, after the legitimate heir, shahmurad, had fled to the kiptchaks. { } khudayar khan had scarcely exercised four months the royal functions so new to him, when the kiptchak, with shahmurad at their head, assailed, and forced him a second time to fly to bokhara. the emir, seeing himself so slighted and mocked at in his character as protector, hastily assembled all his forces to wreak his vengeance upon khokand in some exemplary manner; and after having sent on before him shahrukh khan with , men, and mehemmed hasan bey with thirty pieces of artillery, he hastened after them himself, escorted by a few hundred tekke, with the fixed design not to return until he had reduced under his sceptre all as far as the frontiers of china. in khokand the firm intention of the young emir was well known, so also was his cupidity; and he met, accordingly, with the most resolute resistance. the ulemas pronounced the emir, who was invading their country, to be kafir (an unbeliever), and preached against him the djihad (war of religion). all flew to arms, but in vain. the emir attached to his own dominions not only khokand, but all the territory as far as the chinese frontiers. the greatest resistance which he met with was from the kiptchaks, under their chieftain alem kul. these were attacked by the turkomans; and the combat that ensued must have proved highly interesting, for two of the most savage of the primitive races of tartary stood there face to face. after the death of the alem kul in the battle, his wife set herself at the head of the horde. the war was continued; but at last a peace was made with the { } emir. the khanat, from which the conqueror had sent all the cannon, and immense stores of arms and treasures, to bokhara, was divided into two parts. khokand fell to the share of sahmurad, the darling of the kiptchaks, khodjend to khudayar khan. mozaffar-ed-din returned to his capital. i met him on his way thither on august , . since this time, yet so recent, khokand has probably experienced several other changes. similar dissensions formerly occurred between kashgar, khoten, and yarkend; and as those continued until all their territory was incorporated by china, so is it here probable that russian occupation will soon put an end to these miserable civil wars. { } chapter xx. chinese tartary. approach from west administration inhabitants cities. the traveller who journeys on during twelve days in an easterly direction from oosh, will reach the chinese territory at the point where stands the city of kashgar. the way thither leads him over a mountainous country, where the kiptchaks are wandering about with their herds. no villages, it is said, ever existed in this district, except in the time of djenghis khan, and then only here and there. at the present day it is not possible to trace even their ruins. places blackened by fire and heaps of stones indicate the spots used by travellers and karavans for their stations. although the kiptchaks are wild and warlike, they do not attack solitary travellers. large karavans coming from china are bound to pay a moderate tribute, in other respects no one is disturbed. at the distance of a single day's journey from kashgar one arrives at a blockhouse, the first post of the chinese, occupied by soldiers and an accountant. no one is permitted to proceed unless furnished with a pass drawn up by the aksakal in namengan, who acts as a sort of paid agent for the chinese. after { } the traveller has exhibited his pass, he is interrogated in detail respecting everything that he has seen and heard in foreign parts. the accountant makes two copies of the report, one is given to the nearest post to be compared with the answer to a similar interrogation there; this document is forwarded to the governor whom it concerns. according to the statements of hadji bilal and my other friends, in chinese tartary it is most advisable on such occasions to employ the formula 'belmey-men' (i know not). [footnote ] it is not the practice to force a man to reply in detail, and indeed no one has power to compel him to do so, and the accountant himself prefers the shorter answer, which lightens the functions he has to perform. [footnote : the chinese have besides a proverb quite in accordance with this rule, for they say: 'bedjidu yikha le djidu shi kha-le.' 'i know not, is one word; i know, is ten words,' that is to say, 'saying "i know not," you have said everything; but saying "i know," your interrogator will put more questions, and you will have necessarily more to say.'] under the name of chinese tartary we generally understand that angular point of the chinese empire that stretches away to its west towards the central plateau of asia, and which is bounded on the north by the great hordes of kirghis, and in the south by bedakhshan, cashemir, and thibet. the country from hi to köhne turfan is said to have been subject to the sovereignty of china for several centuries; but it is only years since kashgar, yarkend, aksu, and khoten have been { } incorporated. these cities had been continually at war with one another, until several of the leading personages with the yarkend chief, ibrahim bey, at their head, desirous to put an end to the dissensions, called in the chinese, who, after long hesitating, assumed the sovereignty, and have governed these cities upon a different system from that in force in the other provinces of the celestial empire. _(a.) administration._ as i heard from an authentic source (for as i have stated, my friend and informant, hadji bilal, was the chief priest of the governor), each of these provinces had two authorities, one chinese and military, the other tartar-musselman and civil. their chiefs are equal in rank, but the tartar is so far subordinate to the chinese that it is only through the latter that one can communicate with the supreme authority at pekin. the chinese officials inhabit the fortified part of the city, and consist of . anban, who is distinguished by a ruby button on his cap, and by a peacock feather. his yearly salary is yambu, [footnote ] about £ . under him are the [footnote : a yambu is a massive piece of silver with two ears or handles, in form like our weights. in bokhara it is taken for forty tilla.] . da-lui, secretaries, four in number, of whom the first has the superintendence of the correspondence, the second the administration of the expenditure, the third the penal code, and the fourth the police. . dji-zo-fang, keeper of the archives. { } the court of the supreme chinese officer is denominated ya-mun, and is accessible at all times to every one who wishes to prefer his complaint against any subordinate officer for maladministration, or in any other case of supposed failure of justice. and here we meet with a characteristic trait of chinese government. immediately before the gate of the court stands a colossal drum; this every plaintiff strikes once if his desire is to summon a secretary, whereas he must beat twice if his intention is to see the anban himself. whether it be day or night, summer or winter, the sound of distress must be attended to, or at least very rarely is it neglected. even in europe such a mode of summoning, i think, might be desirable in the case of many a drowsy functionary of justice. the tartar-musselman corps of officials intrusted with the administration of justice in civil cases, with the collection of the taxes and customs, or other such functions touching their domestic concerns, and which do not devolve upon the chinese authorities, are as follows:-- . vang, or hakim, upon the same footing as the anban, both as to rank and pay. . haznadji, or gaznadji as he is designated by the tartars, who has the control and inspection of the revenue. . ishkaga (the word signifies doorkeeper), a sort of master of ceremonies, chamberlain, and chief intendant. . shang beghi, a kind of secretary, interpreter, and functionary, serving as medium between the chinese and musselman authorities. { } . kazi beg, the kadi or judge. . Örtengbeghi, postmaster, responsible for all the post-houses existing in his district. the system of posts in the country has much resemblance with the persian tchapar; the government farms out certain roads, and it is the duty of the postmaster to take care that the farmers of them everywhere provide good horses for the public service. the distance from kashgar to komul is reckoned stations, which the Örteng performs generally in , but on extraordinary emergencies, in or even days. from komul to pekin is counted stations, which may also be performed in days, consequently the whole distance from kashgar to pekin, which is a journey of stations, is usually performed by the courier in about a month. [footnote ] . badjghir, collector of customs. [footnote : it is remarkable that the postilions, almost always kalmuks, are able to accomplish these sharp rides, consisting each of thirty days and thirty nights, several times each year. with us such a performance on horseback would be regarded as something extraordinary. the ride of charles xii. from demotika to stralsund, and that of the turkish courier, from szigetvar (in hungary, where solyman the magnificent died) to kutahia in eight days, are famous in history. for the first see voltaire's 'life of charles xii.,' and for the second 'saadeddin tadj et tevarikh.'] _(b.) inhabitants._ the greater part of the population of chinese tartary, that is to say, of the four provinces, occupy fixed habitations, and busy themselves with agriculture. with respect to nationality, they style themselves Özbegs, but the first glance detects their kalmuk { } origin. Özbegs, in the sense understood in bokhara and khiva, have never existed in chinese tartary. when the word is used here, it signifies a mixed race that has sprung from the union of kalmuks, who invaded the country from the north, and of kirghis, with the original inhabitants of persian race; and it deserves particular mention, that in places where the ancient persian population was thicker (now it has entirely vanished), the irani type is more dominant than in the contrary case. next to these pseudo-Özbegs come the kalmuks and the chinese. the former are either military or lead the life of nomads; the latter, who occupy themselves with commerce and handicrafts, are merely to be found in the principal cities, and there only in insignificant numbers. lastly, we must also name the tungani or tongheni, who are spread over the country from ili to far beyond komul. in nationality they are chinese; in religion, however, musselmans, and belonging all to the shafeï sect. [footnote ] tungani or tongheni means, in the dialect of chinese tartary, converts (in osmanli turkish, dönme), and, as is confidently asserted, these chinese, who count a million of souls, were converted in the time of timour by an arabian adventurer, who came with the above-named conqueror from damascus to central asia, and roamed about in chinese tartary as a wonder-working saint. these tungani distinguish themselves not only by their gross fanaticism, but by their hate for those of their countrymen who are not musselmans; and in spite of their constituting the most advanced post of islam on the side of the east, they nevertheless send every year a strong contingent of hadjis to mecca. [footnote : the sunnites number four mezheb (sects) amongst themselves, i.e. hanifeï, shafeï, maleki, and hambali. all four stand in equal estimation, and to give the preference to any one is regarded as a sin.] { } as for the general character of the population, i found the chinese tartar honest, timid, and, to speak plainly, bordering upon stupidity; his relation to the inhabitants of the other cities in central asia is about the same as that of the bokhariot to the parisian or the londoner. extremely modest in their aspirations, my fellow-travellers have yet often delighted me by the enthusiastic terms which they used when they spoke of their poor homes. the splendour and lavish expenditure discernible in roum and persia, and even bokhara, displease them; and although they are governed by a people differing from themselves in language and religion, still they prefer their own to the musselman government in the three khanats. but it would really seem as if they had no cause to be dissatisfied with the chinese. every one from the age of fifteen years upwards, with the exception of khodjas (descendants of the prophet) and mollahs, pay to government a yearly capitation tax of five tenghe (three shillings). the soldiers [footnote ] are enlisted, but not by compulsion; and the musselman regiments have besides the advantage of remaining unmixed and forming a single body, and, except in some little external points, [footnote ] are not in the slightest degree interfered with. { } but the higher officials do not escape so easily; they are obliged to wear the dress prescribed to their rank, long moustaches, and pigtail; and, most dreadful of all, they must on holidays appear in the pagodas, and perform a sort of homage before the unveiled portrait of the emperor, by touching the ground three times with the forehead. the musselmans assert that their countrymen filling high offices hold on such occasions, concealed between their fingers, a small scrap of paper, with 'mecca' written upon it, and that by this sleight of hand their genuflection becomes an act of veneration, not to the sovereign of the celestial empire, but to the holy city of the arabian prophet. [footnote : i am told, that there are at present in the four districts of chinese tartary about , soldiers, forming the garrisons of the four principal towns. one part of them, armed with spear and sword, is called _tchan-ping_, the others, who bear muskets, are known by the designation of _shüva_.] [footnote : such, for instance, as ( ) the robes being made to reach the kaees, and of blue linen, a costume regarded by the musselmans with abhorrence as distinctive marks of the chinese; ( ) the permitting the moustache to grow, whereas islam rigidly enjoins that the hair covering the upper lip shall be cut close.] in social matters it is easy to conceive how two such discordant elements as the chinese and musselmans live together. warm friendly relations seem, under the circumstances, impossible; but i fancy that i can discern, nevertheless, that no peculiar animosity exists between the two classes. the chinese, who are the minority, never allow the tartars to feel that they are rulers, and the authorities distinguish themselves by the greatest impartiality. as conversion to the dominant religion is singularly displeasing to the chinese, it is not surprising that their efforts carefully tend not only to make the musselmans exact in the performance of their religious duties, but to punish severely those who, in this respect, offend. does a musselman omit to pray, the chinese are wont to say { } to him, 'behold how ungrateful thou art; we have some hundreds of gods, and, nevertheless, we satisfy them all. thou pretendest to have but one god, and yet that one thou canst not content!' even the mollahs, as i often had occasion to observe, extol the conscientiousness of the chinese officials, although they deal with their religion in the most unsparing terms. so, also, the tartars are never tired of praising the art and cleverness of their rulers, and there is no end to their laudatory strains when they once begin to speak upon the subject of the power of the djong kafir (great unbelievers), i.e., the genuine chinese. [footnote ] [footnote : the taking of pekin by the anglo-french army has not remained hidden from them. when i asked hadji bilal, how that was reconcilable with the boasted omnipotence of the chinese, he observed, that the frenghis had employed cunning, and had begun by stupefying all the inhabitants of pekin with opium, and then had naturally and easily made their way into the slumbering city.] and is it not again most astonishing that all the followers of islamism, including those who are farthest to the west, as well as those to be found on its most distant eastern boundaries, whether turks, arabs, persians, tartars, or Özbegs, ridicule and mock at their own faults just in the same degree as they praise and extol the virtues and merits of the nations not mohammedan? this is the account i heard everywhere. they admit that taste for the arts, humanity, and unexampled love of justice are attributes of the kafir (unbelievers), and yet you hear them, with their eyes glancing fire, using an expression like that attributed to a frenchman, after the battle of rosbach, 'god be praised that i am a musselman! [footnote ] [footnote : 'el hamdü lilla ena müszlim.'] { } _(c. ) cities._ amongst the cities, of which we give a list in the account of routes in chinese tartary, the most flourishing are khoten and yarkend. the largest are turfan ili and komul; and the objects of most pious veneration, aksu and kashgar. in the last, which boasts mosques (probably, however, only mud huts destined for prayer), and twelve medresse, there is the venerated tomb of hazreti afak, the national saint of chinese tartary. hazreti afak means 'his highness the horizon,' a phrase by which is meant to be expressed the infinity of the talents of the saint. his actual name was khodja sadik. he contributed much to form the religious character of the tartars. it is said that kashgar originally was more considerable, and that its population was more numerous, than is the case at present. this decay is owing alone to the invasion of the khokandi khodja, who every year surprise the city, drive the chinese into their fortifications, and remain there plundering and despoiling, until the besieged garrison have despatched their formal interrogatory to pekin, and have obtained official permission to assume the offensive. the khokandi khodja, a troop of greedy adventurers, have thus for years been in the habit of plundering the city, and yet the chinese never cease to be chinese. { } chapter xxi. communication of central asia with russia, persia, and india routes in the three khanats and chinese tartary. of all the foreign countries with which central asia is in relation, russia is that with which it has the most active correspondence. (_a_) from khiva the karavans proceed to astrakhan and orenburg, whence many wealthy merchants reach nishnei novogorod, and even st. petersburg. (_b_) from bokhara an uninterrupted correspondence--particularly active in summer--is kept up with orenburg. this is the most usual journey, and is performed in from fifty to sixty days. extraordinary circumstances may, indeed, render it longer or shorter; but except in times of unusual disturbances amongst the kirghis, even the smallest karavans undertake it. (_c_) from tashkend karavans go to orenburg and kizil djar (petropavlosk). they reach the first in from fifty to sixty days, and the latter in from fifty to seventy. these are always the most numerous karavans, the district they traverse being the most dangerous. { } (_d_) the route from namengan and aksu to pulat (semipalatinsk) is frequented for the most part by khokandi karavans, which proceed under strong escort, and arrive at their destination in forty days. solitary travellers may pass among the kirghis unmolested. of course, i mean when they travel like dervishes. many of my fellow-travellers had performed the journey to mecca by semipalatinsk, orenburg, kasan, and constantinople. thus far i have spoken of the communications of central asia towards the north. towards the south they are far less important. khiva is accustomed to send one or two small karavans to persia by the way of astrabad and deregöz. bokhara shows somewhat more activity; but no karavans have passed by merv to meshed during the last two years, the tekke having interrupted all communication. the most frequented route is by herat, at which city the karavans separate, accordingly as they proceed to persia or afghanistan and india. the way by karshi and belkh to kabul is only of secondary importance, because the difficulties of surmounting the hindukush offer constant and serious obstacles, and during the last two years this route has not been much frequented. besides the above-named communication on a great scale, we must mention the slender thread of correspondence maintained by single pilgrims or beggars from the most hidden parts of turkestan with the remotest parts of asia. nothing is more interesting than these vagabonds, who leave their native nests without a farthing in their pockets to journey for thousands of miles in countries of which they previously hardly know the names; and amongst nations entirely different from their own in physiognomy, { } language, and customs. without further consideration, a poor inhabitant of central asia, [footnote ] following the suggestions of one sole dream, betakes himself to arabia, and even to the most westerly parts of the turkish empire. he has nothing to lose. he seeks to see the world, and so follows blindly his instinct. the world i say, but i mean his world, beginning with china, and ending with the limits of the turkish empire. as for europe, he admits, indeed, that it may be beautiful, but he regards it as so filled with magic and diabolical arts that he would never venture thither, even though he held in his hand the surest thread to guide him on his way through so perilous a labyrinth. [footnote : i say poor, for the rich rarely submit to the toil and inconvenience of a pilgrimage; but they have an expedient, for they find deputies. their representatives supplied with the necessary funds are sent on to mecca, where in their prayers they substitute the name of the sender for their own, but the latter only so far profits that he has the honour after his decease of having engraved upon his tomb the affix to his name, 'hadji.'] experience convinced me that the farther we advance in turkestan, the greater is the disposition to perform these annual pilgrimages and toilsome journeys. the number of the hadjis proceeding yearly from khiva is, on an average, from ten to fifteen; from bokhara, thirty to forty; but from khokand and chinese tartary, between seventy and eighty. if we add thereto the rage of the persians for pilgrimages to the holy places in meshed, kerbela, kom, and mecca, it is impossible not to be surprised at the great zeal in favour of such ramblings still prevalent in asia. the seed from which sprang the migration of its ancient races, continues still to { } exist, and but for the civilisation of the west and its mighty influence, that press closely upon asia on all sides, who knows what revolutions might not already have taken place! the routes in the three khanats. a. routes in the khanat or khiva and the adjacent country. . _from khiva to gömüshtepe._ (a) ortayolu, the middle of the three routes indicated by me in the commencement of my work, and which i myself took, has the following stations, and can be traversed easily on horseback in fourteen or fifteen days. . akyap. . medemin. . shor göl (lake). . kaplankir. . dehli ata. . kahriman ata. . koymat ata. . yeti siri. . djenak. . ulu balkan. . kitchig balkan. . kören taghi (a mountain chain). . kyzyl takir. . bogdayla. . etrek. . gömüshtepe. (b) the route termed tekke yolu can be traversed on horseback in ten days, and is said to consist of the following stations:-- . medemin. . döden. . shahsenem. . ortakuju. . alty kuyruk. . chirlalar. . chin mohammed. . sazlik. . etrek. . gömüshtepe. { } this route seems infested by the turkoman alamans; the reason appears clear, because by the ordinary way they can go so rapidly over large tracts of land. . _from khiva to meshed._ the routes are two: the one by hezaresp and deregöz southwards through the desert (the traveller can perform this journey on horseback in twelve days); the other way passes by merv, and has the following principal stations or wells:-- . dari. [footnote ] . sagri. . nemekabad. . shakshak. . shur ken. . akyap. . merv. [footnote : dari is reached on the first day from khiva.] . _from khiva to bokhara (a high road)_. from to farsz. parasangs [ - miles] khiva khanka khanka shurakhan shurakhan ak kamish ak kamish töyeboyun töyeboyun tünüklü tünüklü utch udjak utch udjak karaköl karaköl bokhara { } . _from khiva to khokand._ there is a route through the desert without touching bokhara. at shurakhan, one leaves the khanat of khiva, and reaches khodjend ordinarily in from ten to twelve days inclusive. the journey may, however, be shortened by turning off to djizzak. this was the route taken by conolly in company of a khokandi prince, whom he had met in khiva. . _from khiva to kungrat and the shore of the aral sea._ from to tash or farsz khiva yenghi urgendj yenghi urgendj görlen görlen yenghi yap yenghi yap khitai khitai manghit manghit kiptchak kiptchak kamli kamli khodja ili (desert) khodja ili kungrat kungrat hekim ata hekim ata tchortangöl tchortangöl bozatav bozatav shore of the sea making together tash, a distance which, when the way is not in bad condition, may be travelled in twelve stations. . _from khiva to kungrat, by köhne._ from to tash or farsz. khiva gazavat gazavat tashhaus tashhaus köktcheg köktcheg kizil takir kizil takir porsu porsu köhne urgendj köhne urgendj khodja ili { } and thence to kungrat, as already mentioned, there are four tash, making together tash, a nearer way, consequently, than the one by görlen, but less eligible and less frequented. first, it is not safe; and secondly, it is wearisome, on account of the desert and the route itself. . _from khiva to fitnek._ from to tash or farsz. khiva sheikh mukhtar sheikh mukhtar bagat bagat ishantchepe ishantchepe hezaresp hezaresp fitnek adding to this number the already given in the sum of the distances in route marked ( ), we see that the greatest distance traversed by the oxus in the khanat is not more than tash or farszakhs. { } b. routes in the khanat of bokhara and the adjacent country. . _from bokhara to herat._ from to tash or farsz. bokhara khoshrobat khoshrobat tekender tekender tchertchi tchertchi karahindi karahindi kerki kerki zeid (well) zeid andkhuy andkhuy batkak batkak maymene maymene kaisar kaisar narin narin chikektu chikektu kalé veli kalé veli murgab murgab derbend derbend kalè no kalè no sertcheshme sertcheshme herat total this distance can be travelled on horseback in from to days. . _from bokhara to merv._ the traveller must here first go to tchardjuy, from which city there are three different routes. (_a_) by rafatak. there is one well, and its distance is farszakhs. { } (_b_) by Ütchhadji. two wells, and distance farszakhs. (_c_) by yolkuyu. this is the route most to the east; the distance is farszakhs. . _from bokhara to samarcand (usual road)._ from to farsz. parasangs bokhara mezar mezar kermine r. kermine r. mir mir kette kurgan kette kurgan daul daul samarcand this journey is performed by two-wheeled loaded carts in six days. mounted on a good horse, one may accomplish it in three: the couriers take but two days, but they travel night and day. . _from samarcand to kerki._ from to farsz. samarcand robati haus robati haus nayman nayman shurkuduk shurkuduk karshi karshi feizabad feizabad sengsulak sengsulak kerki { } ._from samarcand to khokand by khodjend._ from to farsz. samarcand yenghi kurgan yenghi kurgan djizzag djizzag zamin zamin djam djam savat savat oratepe oratepe nau nau khodjend khodjend karaktchikum karaktchikum mehrem mehrem besharik besharik khokand this journey takes eight days in a cart (two-wheeled), and may be much shortened by going straight from oratepe to mehrem, which requires only eight hours, so that there is a gain of six tash. . _from samarcand to tashkend and the russian frontiers._ from to tash samarcand yenghi kurgan yenghi kurgan djizzag djizzag djinas djinas zenghi ata zenghi ata tashkend five days' journey farther on from here is, as i learnt from the accounts of many different persons, the first russian fort and post of the cossacks. { } routes in the khanat of khokand. . _from khokand to oosh (a straight road)._ from to tash khokand karaultepe karaultepe mergolan mergolan sherikhan sherikhan endigan endigan oosh the journey can be performed in two-wheeled carts in four days. . _from khokand to oosh (by namengan)_. from to tash khokand bibi uveida bibi uveida sehri menzil sehri menzil kirghis kurgan kirghis kurgan namengan namengan Üsch kurgan Üsch kurgan gömüshtepe gömüshtepe oosh besides these two principal roads, there is a mountainous route from tashkend to namengan; offering, however, many perilous places, which entail the necessity of much laborious exertion. although the distance is only miles, one requires ten days to { } traverse it. it passes by the following places: toy tepe, karakhitai tilav, koshrobat, mollamir, babatarkhan, shehidan (where the russians were defeated by mehemmed ali khan), kamishkurgan, pnngan, haremseray, uygur, pop, seng, djust, törekurgan, namengan. d. routes in chinese tartary. the distance from _kashgar_ to _yarhend_ is reckoned miles (tash), journeyed over by karavans and carts in seven days. on the third day from kashgar, the traveller reaches a place called yenghi hissar, which is occupied by a strong garrison of soldiers. from _kashgar_ to _aksu_, the distance is miles; a karavan takes to perform it twelve days. from _aksu_ to _ushturban_, lying to the south, the traveller requires two days. proceeding still farther to the east, we reach komul in twenty-eight days, as follows:-- from to days' journey aksu bay bay saram saram kutcha kutcha shiar shiar bögür bögür kurli kurli kohne turfan kohne turfan komul adding twelve days for the journey from kashgar to aksu, this makes, for the whole distance from the latter city, forty days. { } chapter xxii. general view of agriculture, manufactures, and trade. agriculture different kinds of horses sheep camels asses manufactures principal seats of trade commercial ascendancy of russia in central asia. _(a.) agriculture._ taken altogether, it is incredible how fertile all the cultivable land is in these three khanats, which rise like oases out of the monstrous deserts of central asia. in spite of the primitive system of culture adopted, fruit and corn are luxuriantly abundant, one might even say, in many places, superabundant. the excellence of the fruit in khiva has been already mentioned; and although bokhara and khokand cannot be placed, in this respect, in the same rank with khiva, the following produce of those khanats deserve, nevertheless, mention, e.g., the grapes, of extraordinary excellence (of which there are ten kinds), the 'magnificent pomegranates,' and particularly the apricots, which are exported in immense quantities to persia, russia, and afghanistan. corn is met with everywhere in the three khanats, and is of five kinds: wheat, barley, djugheri (holcus saccharatus), millet, (tarik), and rice. the best wheat and djugheri are { } said to be found in bokhara and khiva, a genial soil; whereas khokand is in high repute for millet. barley is nowhere of very good quality, and is made use of, either alone or mixed with djugheri, as fodder for horses. in cattle-breeding the inhabitants of turkestan concentrate their attention on three animals alone, namely, the horse, the sheep, and the camel. the horse is regarded by the central asiatic as his _alter ego_. different races are met with here, possessing too different qualities and excellences. volumes might be written to show how it is reared, and what are its varieties; but this not being my province, i will confine myself to a few observations. as countless as the stocks and branches of the nomads themselves, so countless are the races and families of their horses. the following classification deserves to be noted:-- ( ) the turkoman horse: and here a main distinction exists between the tekke and the yomut breeds. the former, of which the favourite races are the körogli and the akhal, are distinguished by extraordinary height (sixteen to seventeen hands). they are slightly built, have handsome heads, majestic carriage, wonderful speed, but no bottom. the latter, those of the yomuts, are smaller, finely formed, and unite speed with unparalleled endurance and strength. [footnote ] in general, the turkoman horse is distinguished by a slender barrel, thin tail, handsome head and neck (it is a pity that the mane is cut off), { } and a particularly fine and glossy coat; the latter quality is owing to its being kept covered, summer and winter, with several housings of felt. with respect to the value, a good turkoman horse may be had at a price varying from one hundred to three hundred ducats, but never under thirty ducats. [footnote : i have seen many horses of this description which had carried each his turkoman rider with a slave behind him in the saddle at a constant rapid gallop for thirty hours.] ( ) the Özbeg horse resembles the yomut, but its form is more compact, and denotes more power; its neck short and thick, rather suited, like our hacks, for journeys than serviceable in war or alamans. ( ) the kasak horse, in a half wild state, small, with long hair, thick head, and heavy feet. he is seldom fed by hand, but is accustomed to seek himself his subsistence, summer and winter, in the pastures. ( ) the khokandi sumpter or cart-horse is a cross between the Özbeg and the kasak breeds, and is remarkable for its great strength. of these four races, the genuine turkoman horses have only been exported to persia, and the Özbeg horses to afghanistan and india. the sheep is everywhere of the race with fat tails; the finest are met with in bokhara. its flesh is the best i have tasted in the east. there are three kinds of camels, the one-humped and the two-humped, the latter called by us the bactrian, and only met with amongst the kirghis, and the ner, of which we have already spoken when treating of andkhuy. finally, i must not omit to mention the asses. the finest are those of bokhara and khiva. of these the hadjis export yearly many to persia, bagdad, damascus, and egypt. { } _(b.) manufactures._ two hundred years ago, when turkey was less accessible to our european commerce than is the case at the present day, the native manufactures of engürü (angora), broussa, damascus, and aleppo were certainly more active. central asia is even now far more remote from us than was turkey in the times alluded to; our trade there is still very weakly represented--the consequence is that the greater part of the articles requisite for clothing or household purposes are the produce of native industry, of which we will give in this place a short account. the principal seats of central asiatic manufactures are bokhara, karshi, yenghi Ürgendj, khokand, and namengan. out of these cities come the different stuffs, whether of cotton, silk, or linen, as well as the articles manufactured from leather, which supply the native demand. the principal and most widely-diffused material is the so-called aladja, a stuff employed for the dresses of man and woman. in khiva it is woven of cotton and raw silk, in bokhara and khokand of cotton alone. as there are no distinct tailors' shops, the manufacturer busies himself also with the scissors and the needle, so that a great part of the produce consists in ready-made clothes. when we were in bokhara, the high prices of clothing were a general complaint. the following were those then current:-- { } [prices in tenghe] dresses st class nd class rd class khivan bokhariot khokandi besides the aladja, they fabricate stuffs of silk, woollen shawls for turbans, linen, for the most part very coarse and bad, and from the latter a sort of calico, with dark red figures, used as coverlets for bedding throughout turkestan and afghanistan. in the manufacture of leather they are famous; they excel us in the preparation of shagreen ('sagri' in the tartar language), which, as is well known, is green, with little elevations like bladders. with the exception of russia leather--which they import from that country, and employ in fashioning their water-skins--their coverings for the feet, and their harness and accoutrements for horses, are manufactured of native leather. bokhara and khokand produce these articles of the best quality. khiva has only one kind of thick yellow leather, employed both for soles and upper leather. of fine leather they prepare the meskh (under-shoes like stockings); and of the coarser kinds, the koush, or upper galoshes. paper manufactured in bokhara and samarcand enjoys a high repute throughout turkestan and the adjoining countries. it is made of raw silk, is very smooth and thin, and well adapted for the arabic { } writing. articles of iron and steel, as the raw material is wanting, are only weakly represented. the rifled guns from hezaresp, the swords and knives from hissar, karshi, and djust, are in great renown. an important manufacture of central asia, which reaches us in europe by way of persia and constantinople, is that of carpets, which is, however, the exclusive product of the industry and skill of the turkoman women. besides the beautifully pure colouring and solidity of the texture, what most surprises us is how these simple nomad women preserve so well the symmetry of the outline of figures, and even betray often a better taste than many manufacturers in europe. one carpet gives work always for a number of girls and young women. an old woman places herself at their head as directress. she first traces, with points, the pattern of the figures in the sand. glancing at this, she gives out the number of the different threads required to produce the desired figures. in the next place, the workers in felt demand notice, but the kirghis women here distinguish themselves most. _(c.) trade._ as it was before mentioned, in the chapter respecting the mode of communication, that russia maintains the most extensive and regular relations with central asia, so also must it be stated that it is russian trade which deserves to be styled the most ancient and the most considerable. it is a trade ever on the increase, and, at least in this field, remains without a rival. the extraordinary progress which it has made in these regions is best seen from the following most { } authentic data. m. de khanikoff [footnote ] states, in his work published in , that every year a number of from five to six thousand camels is employed in the transport trade; that goods are imported into russia from central asia to the value of from three to four millions of roubles; and that the export trade, which in amounted to £ , , had risen, in , to £ , _s_. this estimate applies to the years from to . her majesty's secretary of embassy at st. petersburg, mr. t. saville lumley, in his report upon the russian trade with central asia, drawn up with great industry and ability, informs us that, in the period from to , the export trades rose to £ , , , and the import trade to £ , , . [footnote ] [footnote : see the english translation of his work by the baron bode, . madden.] [footnote : the report above alluded to furnishes itself all the necessary details: we have appended them as given by mr. lumley himself.] _table of the trade between russia and the countries of central asia for the decennial period from to ._ exported. [amounts in pounds sterling] bokhara khiva kokan total specie, gold and silver , , , copper , , , , iron, hardware, various metals , , , , cotton, manufactures in , , , , wool, ditto , , , , silk, ditto , , , leather , , , , wooden ware , , dye-stuffs and colours , , , miscellaneous goods , , , , total , , , , , { } even without these data, a glance alone at the bazaars of bokhara, khiva, and karshi would suffice to convince us of the importance of this branch of russian trade; and it is by no means any exaggeration to assert that there is no house, and even no tent, in all central asia where there is not some article of russian manufacture. the most important trade is carried on in cast iron, for the most part consisting of kettles and water cans, and imported from south siberia; but particularly from the manufactories in the ural mountains. in the trade with bokhara, tashkend, and khiva alone, more than three thousand camels are employed in the transport of this one article. after cast iron come raw iron and brass, russian cotton goods, cambric, muslins, tea-kettles, army and miscellaneous cutlery. imported. [amounts in pounds sterling] bokhara khiva kokan total cotton, raw and twist , , , , cotton, manufactures in , , , , silk, raw, and manufactures in , , , wool, manufactures in , , madder , , , furs, lamb-skins , , , , precious stones and pearl , ... , fruit, dried , , , , shawls, cashmere , ... ... , miscellaneous goods , , , , total , , , , , , for further details see 'reports by her majesty's secretaries of embassy and legation on the manufactures, commerce, &c.,' , no. v. p. . { } cloth, from its high price, meets with few purchasers, and is seldom found. the before-named articles are transported from bokhara and karshi, not only to the remaining parts of turkestan, but to maymene and herat, and even as far as kandahar and kabul. the latter two cities are, indeed, nearer to peshawur and karatchi; but give, nevertheless, the preference to the russian merchandise, although far inferior to that of england. the circumstance may seem surprising to the reader, and yet the reasons are simple. orenburg is just as distant from bokhara as karatchi, which, being in the indian territory of great britain, might form the outpost of english commerce. the route thence by herat to central asia would be far more practicable and more convenient than that leading through the desert to russia. that the english trade is here supplanted by the russian is, in my humble opinion, to be ascribed to the following causes:--( ) the commercial relations of russia with tartary are now several centuries old, and in comparison with it that of england deserves to be denominated new, and it is notorious how tenaciously orientals cling to old usages and customs. ( ) the russians occupying adjoining frontiers, in matters affecting the taste and requisitions of the central asiatics, are more experienced than the english manufacturers of birmingham, manchester, and glasgow, &c., an evil only to be remedied by european travellers being able to move about more freely in these regions than is the case at the present day, when journeys, not only in bokhara, { } but even in afghanistan, are attended by so much risk and peril. ( ) the herat route, in spite of its possessing every element of convenience, has very much to deter foreign merchants, in consequence of the organised system of what may be styled bandit governments, as may be seen from what was before said upon the subject. [footnote ] [footnote : see chapter xiv.] besides these commercial relations with russia, turkestan maintains also others, almost uninterruptedly, by the way of herat with persia, whither it sends lambs' wool, dried fruit, materials for red colouring, and certain native stuffs, receiving in exchange a great quantity of opium [footnote ] from meshed, some english wares through the house of ralli & company, sugar and cutlery. there is a route from meshed to bokhara which can be performed in ten days, but the karavans are forced to take the circuitous way by herat, which requires thrice as much time. from kabul is exported to bokhara a sort of cotton shawl, with blue and white stripes, called by the tartars pota, and by the afghans lunghi. it is used universally for summer turbans, and looks like an english manufacture, which may perhaps be imported by way of peshawar; it is the only article having a good sale, because in accordance with the national taste. the kabuli besides bring indigo and different kinds of spices, receiving in return russian calicoes, tea, and paper. { } [footnote : opium, called here teryak, is prepared in the south-eastern part of persia as follows:--the head of the poppy has incisions made in it lengthways on three of its sides at a fixed time in the evening, and when only half ripe. the next morning after it has been so cut a dew-like substance shows itself at the place; this must be removed before sunrise, and, after having been boiled, the resulting product is the teryak. it is singular that from the three places where the poppy has been cut issue substances of different quality, and of these that in the middle is most esteemed.] with china there is only an insignificant trade in tea and porcelain; but these articles are quite different from those seen in europe. the chinese seldom set foot over the frontier, the communication here being almost entirely kept up by kalmucks and musselmans. lastly, let me not omit to allude to the trade carried on in persia, india, arabia, and turkey, by the hadjis. the reader may think that i am jesting; but still my experience justifies me in saying that this also merits the name of commercial transaction. the fifty or sixty hadjis who came with me from central asia to herat transported with them about forty dozens of silk handkerchiefs from bokhara, about two thousand knives, thirty pieces of silk stuff from namengan, a large quantity of khokandi dappi (caps upon which the turban is wound), &c. these were the hadjis upon one route only. as for the imports, account must also be held of the hadjis; for it is very easy to understand that the largest part of the european cutlery that finds its way to central asia has been introduced by them. { } chapter xxiii. internal and external political relations of central asia. internal relations between bokhara, khiva, and khokand external relations with turkey, persia, china, and russia. _(a.) internal relations._ from what i have said in the previous pages upon the subject of the recent history of khiva and khokand, one may form a tolerably good idea of the terms upon which the different khanats live with each other. i will, nevertheless, here collect a few facts to render it easier to appreciate the whole situation. let us begin with bokhara. this khanat, which, even previously to the introduction of islamism, played a capital part, has, notwithstanding all the revolutions that have since occurred, always preserved its superiority, and it is regarded at the present day as the cradle of the civilisation of central asia. khokand and khiva, as well as the other small khanats to the south, and even afghanistan itself, have never ceased to recognise its spiritual supremacy. they praise and extol the mollahs as well as the islamite learning: of the 'noble bokhara;' but their love of it extends only thus far, for all attempts made by the emirs of { } bokhara to make use of their spiritual influence to increase their political power have failed of success, not only in the khanats but even in the respective cities. near-sighted politicians might infer, from the wars carried on by the emir nasrullah with khiva and khokand, that bokhara, from apprehension of a russian invasion, is disposed to organise an alliance by means gentle or foul. but this is not the case. bokhara had never any such plans. the campaigns of the emir are but predatory expeditions; and i am firmly convinced that should russia proceed actively to carry out her designs on central asia, the three khanats, so far from giving each other any mutual support in the moment of peril, would by their dissensions furnish the common enemy with the very best arms against themselves. khiva and khokand are then to be regarded as the constant enemies of bokhara: still bokhara does not look for any serious danger in those quarters, and the only rival that she really fears in central asia is one that is day by day becoming more formidable to her--afghanistan. that this fear reached its highest point during the victorious march of dost mohammed khan towards the oxus, need scarcely be mentioned. emir nasrullah was well aware that he should never be forgiven by the aged afghan for his infamous jest played upon him, or rather his son, when the latter sought his hospitality in bokhara; [footnote ] and as it was affirmed that dost mohammed had been reconciled with the english, and had become even an english mercenary, the apprehension of the emir was still further increased by the { } suspicion that he was but a tool in the hands of the english to avenge the bloody deaths of conolly and stoddart. dark, indeed, must the pictures have been of the future destiny of his khanat, that the tartar tyrant carried with him into his grave. not less was the apprehension entertained by his son and successor, the reigning emir, on his accession. mozaffar-ed-din was in khokand when the intelligence reached him of the death of dost mohammed. the messenger received a present of tenghe; the very same day a festival was improvised, and in the evening the emir, to complete the number of his legal wives, took to his bed his fourth spouse, the youngest daughter of khudayar khan. the great dread has, indeed, passed away, but a feeling of 'respect' continues still to exist; for in bokhara it is very well known that the afghans, as fruit of the alliance with england, can now dispose of some thousands of well-drilled regular troops. [footnote : see ferrier's 'history of the afghans,' p. .] conscious of the superiority of the afghans, and its own inability to cope with them, it is the policy of bokhara to do them as much harm as possible by their intrigues. as the afghans have allied themselves with england it is not difficult to decry them throughout turkestan as apostates from islam, and consequently during the last few years the commercial intercourse with kabul has much diminished. as before mentioned, the tekke and salor stand constantly in the pay of bokhara. at the siege of herat it was a matter of great surprise to the aged dost that, in spite of all the presents which he made to them, the turkomans continued to molest him, and to carry off prisoners even from his own army. he had quite forgotten his real enemies--the gold pieces of bokhara; for the sympathies of the turkomans are ever with those that pay best. thus far of the internal policy of bokhara. { } khiva has been much enfeebled by the continual wars it has had to maintain with its own tributaries--who are ever ready to renew the contest--the yomuts, tchaudors, and kasaks. the superiority of numbers is on the side of bokhara; and if the emir has hitherto been unable to conquer khiva, the sole cause is the bravery of the Özbeg population. allahkuli was, as i heard, the first who sent an ambassador to bokhara and khokand (probably it was at the suggestion of conolly), in order to organise a system of mutual aid and defensive alliance against that power of russia which was ever on the increase. not only did bokhara decline to enter into such alliance, but it even evinced a disposition to enter into relations with russia. khokand, on the other hand, as well as shehri sebz, and hissar (cities which were then at war with the emir), declared their readiness to adhere to the proposition of khiva. but this union never assumed any other form but that of a wish, never was carried into effect; and how difficult its realisation would be is best shown by an ancient arab proverb, adopted by the central asiatics as descriptive of their own national character, and which is to the following effect: 'in roum are blessings, in damascus beneficence, in bagdad science; but in turkestan nought but rancour and animosity.' [footnote ] [footnote : 'el bereket fi rum el muruvet fi sham el ilm fi bagdad, el togz ve adavet fi mavera ül-nehr.'] { } khokand, owing to the continual dissensions between the kiptchaks, kirghis, and kasaks, is a prey to the same evil as khiva. when we add to this the unexampled cowardice of its Özbeg inhabitants, it will no longer appear surprising if, in spite of its having the greatest population and the most extensive territory of the three khanats, it has, nevertheless, been continually conquered by bokhara. _(b.) external relations._ in its political relations with foreign countries, central asia, comes only in contact with turkey, persia, china, and russia. the sultan of constantinople is regarded as chief of religion and khalif, and as it was the practice in the middle ages for the three khanats of turkestan to receive, as badges of investiture from the khalif of bagdad, a sort of court office, this old system of etiquette has not been abandoned even at the present day; and the princes, on their accession to the throne, are wont still to solicit, through the medium of an extraordinary embassy to stamboul, these honorary distinctions. the khan of khiva assumes his rank as cupbearer, the emir of bokhara as reis (guardian of religion), and the khan of khokand as constable. these courtly functions have always been in high estimation, and i have been informed that the different functionaries fulfil formally once every year the corresponding duties. but the bond that unites them with constantinople goes thus far, and no farther. the sultans cannot exercise any political influence upon the three khanats. the inhabitants of central asia, indeed, are in the habit of associating with the word roum (as turkey is here called) all the power and splendour of ancient rome, { } with which, in the popular opinion, it is identified; but the princes seem to have seen through this illusion, nor would they be disposed to recognise the paramount grandeur of the sultan unless the porte associated its 'firman of investiture,' or its 'licences to pray,' with the transmission of some hundreds or thousands of piastres. in khiva and khokand these firmans from constantinople continue to be read with some demonstration of reverence and respect. the former khanat was represented in constantinople during a period of ten years, by shükrullah bay; the latter, during the reign of mollah khan, had only four years ago an ambassador, mirza djan, at the court of the sultan. these envoys were, in accordance with ancient usages, sometimes maintained for long periods of years at the cost of the state, a charge not altogether convenient as far as its budget for foreign affairs was concerned, but nevertheless altogether essential and necessary to the pretension to a spiritual superiority in asia. the ottoman empire could only have gained effectual political influence in these remote regions of the east when it was roused from its slumbering oriental existence before the time of peter the great. in its character of turkish dynasty, the house of osman might, out of the different kindred elements with which it is connected by the bond of common language, religion, and history, have founded an empire extending from the shore of the adriatic far into china, an empire mightier than that which the great romanoff was obliged to employ not only force but cunning to put together, out of the most discordant and heterogeneous materials. { } anatolians, azerbaydjanes, turkomans, Özbegs, kirghis, and tartars are the respective members out of which a mighty turkish colossus might have arisen, certainly better capable of measuring itself with its greater northern competitor than turkey such as we see it in the present days. with _persia_, its nearest neighbour, khiva and bokhara interchange ambassadors but rarely. the fact that persia avows the principles of the shiite sect, forms in itself just such a wall of separation between these two fanatical nations as protestantism created between the two great classes of christians in europe three centuries ago. to this feeling of religious animosity let us add, also, the traditional enmity between the iranian and turanian races that has become matter of history, and we may then easily form an idea of the gulf that separates the sympathies of nations that nature has made inhabitants of adjoining countries. persia, which, according to the natural course of events, should form the channel to convey to turkestan the benefits of modern civilisation, is far from producing there even the slightest effect. powerless to defend even her own frontiers from the turkomans, the disgraceful defeat she sustained, as before mentioned, at merv, in an expedition directed, in fact, against bokhara, has utterly destroyed her prestige. her power is the object of very little apprehension in the three khanats, for the tartars affirm that god gave the persians head (understanding) and eyes, but no heart (courage). { } with respect to _china_, its political relations with central asia are so rare and insignificant, that they scarcely merit any mention. once, perhaps, in a century a correspondence takes place. the emirs are in the habit of sending occasionally envoys to kashgar, but the chinese, on their side, never venture so far into turkestan as bokhara. with khokand negotiations take place more frequently, but it sends only functionaries of inferior rank to the musselman barbarians. with _russia_ political relations are upon a very different footing. having been for centuries in possession of the countries that border upon the deserts of turkestan on the north, an extensive commercial intercourse has rendered russia more observant of what is going on in the three khanats than their other neighbours, and has caused a series of efforts of which the only possible termination seems to be their complete occupation. the very obstacles which nature has interposed have rendered, indeed, the progress of russia slow, but perhaps her progress is only on that account the more certain. the three khanats are the only members now wanting to that immense tartar kingdom that ivan vasilyevitch ( - ) imagined, and which he began actually to incorporate with his russian dominions, and which, since the time of peter the great, has been the earnest though silent object of his successors. in the khanats themselves this russian policy has not passed entirely unnoticed. princes and people are well aware of the danger that threatens them, and it is only oriental indifference and religious enthusiasm that lull them in the fond sleep of security. { } the majority of the central asiatics with whom i conversed upon this subject, contented themselves by observing that turkestan has two strong defences: ( ) the great number of saints who repose in its territory, under the constant protection of the 'noble bokhara;' ( ) the immense deserts by which it is surrounded. few men, and these only merchants, who have resided long in russia, would regard a change in their government with indifference, for although they have the same detestation for everything that is not mohammedan, yet, at the same time, they never cease to extol the love of justice and the spirit of order that distinguish the 'unbelievers.' { } chapter xxiv. the rivalry of the russians and english in central asia. attitude of russia and england towards central asia progress of russia on the jaxartes. rivalry between england and russia in central asia i heard in england, on my return, affirmed to be an absurdity. 'let us,' it was said, 'hear no more of a question so long ago worn out and out of fashion. the tribes of turkestan are wild, rude, and barbarous; and it is a matter upon which we congratulate ourselves, if russia takes upon herself the onerous and meritorious task of civilisation in those regions. england has not the slightest cause to watch such a policy with envy or jealousy.' full of horror at the scenes of cruelty witnessed by me in turkestan, of which i have endeavoured to give a faint sketch in the preceding pages, i long argued over the question with myself, whether these political views which men sought to instill into me were really in every respect well founded. it is clear, and, indeed, has long been so, to my mind, that christian civilisation, incontestably the noblest and most glorious attribute that ever graced human society, would be a benefit to central asia. the part, however, of { } the question that has a political bearing i could not so easily dispose of; for although i regard the subject in all its different points of view, and drive my conjectures ever so far, i can never entirely realise the idea that england can behold with indifference any approach of russia to her indian dominions. the epoch of political utopias is past. we are far from being so inspired with a russophobia as to regard the time as at hand when the russian cossack and the english sepoy shall knock their noses together while acting as sentinels upon their respective frontiers. the drama of a collision of the two great colossi in central asia, which political dreamers imagined years ago, continues still far from actual performance. the question moves, it is true, slowly, but still always in a forward direction. let me, following the natural course of events, without undue warmth endeavour to acquaint the reader with the motives that influence me when i disapprove of the indifference of the english to the russian policy in central asia. in the first place, let us enquire whether russia is really pressing on towards the south; and if so, what, up to the present moment, has been the extent of her actual advance. until twenty-five years ago, very little attention had been devoted to russian policy in central asia. the occupation of afghanistan by the english, and the russo-persian alliance and expedition against khiva, were the causes that first led to the subject of turkestan being touched upon in the diplomatic correspondence between the cabinets of st. petersburg and london. since that time a tolerable calm has ensued. england, discouraged by { } the failure of her plans, withdrew at once, but russia still keeps silently advancing, and essential changes have taken place with respect to her frontiers on the side of turkestan. on the western part of central asia--for instance, on the sea of aral and its shores--russian influence has considerably increased. with the exception of the mouth of the oxus, the entire west of the aral sea is recognised russian territory. upon that sea itself there are, at this day, three steamers to which the khan of khiva has given permission to advance as far as kungrat. [footnote ] it is given out that they are there to protect their fisheries; but they may probably have another destination, and every one in khiva knows that the recent revolutions in kungrat, as well as other frequent skirmishes between kasaks and Özbegs, have a certain connection with these fishing boats. but these are only secondary plans. the real line of operations is rather to be sought along the left bank of the jaxartes. here we find the russian outposts supported by an uninterrupted chain of forts and walls, pushed on as far as kale rehim, distant thirty-two miles from tashkend, which city may, as i have remarked, be regarded as a key to all conquests in central asia. this route, which traverses fewer deserts than any other, is also in different respects { } well chosen. an army would be here exposed, indeed, to more surprises; but these can be resisted more easily than the fury of the elements. on the eastern frontiers of khokand also, beyond namengan, the russians continue to move nearer and nearer; and in the time of khudayar khan many collisions had already taken place there between the khokandi and the russians. [footnote : that the russian vessels do not pass higher up the oxus is alone attributable to the numerous sandbanks in that river, which rapidly shift their places. i am astonished that barnes expresses himself so lightly respecting its navigability. boatmen who have passed all their lives on the oxus assured me that the sandbanks change position so often that the experience and observation of one day are useless for the day that follows.] the continued progress of the russian designs in central asia is then beyond all doubt. as i before said, the interests of civilisation make us wish the most entire success to the russian arms; but still the remote consequences of an acquisition once made suggest a highly important and complicated enquiry. the question whether russia will content herself even with bokhara, or will allow the oxus to become the final boundary of her influence and of her designs, is difficult to answer. without plunging into any deep considerations of policy, i may remark that it seems very probable that the court of st. petersburg, in return for her persevering policy of sacrifices pursued across deserts for years and years, at great expense and labour, will seek some richer compensation than is to be found in the oases of turkestan. i should like, indeed, to see the politician who would venture to affirm that russia, once in possession of turkestan, would be able to withstand the temptation of advancing, either personally or by her representatives, into afghanistan and northern india, where political intrigues are said to find always a fruitful soil. at the time when the russian columns, under the orders of peroffsky, threw their ominous shadow from the west shore of the aral sea as far as kabul--at the { } time when the spectre of vitkovitsh [footnote ] appeared in that city and in kandahar, the possibility of such complications as those alluded to was foreseen. and cannot that which has once occurred, when the necessity arises, occur a second time? [footnote ] [footnote : this was the name of the russian agent sent by the court of st. petersburg to afghanistan in , with large sums of money to be employed in intrigues against england.] [footnote : whilst i write the above, a st. petersburg correspondent of the _daily telegraph_ ( th october ) sends the intelligence that the russians have already taken tashkend. the authenticity of the statement may perhaps be doubted, but that the russians are in movement in that quarter is certain.] without, therefore, lending to the question the foul colouring of envy or jealousy, i consider myself justified in disapproving of england's indifference to the plans of russia in central asia. such is my humble opinion; but whether the british lion is to come in direct hostile collision with the russian bear in those regions, or in brotherly fashion they are to share and share alike, is a question which, in accordance with the precept, 'ne sutor ultra crepidam,' i in my character of a dervish, devoted to philological studies, will not venture nearer to approach. london printed by spottiswoode and co new-street square -------------- albemarle street, london, november, . mr. murray's general list of works. albert (prince). the principal speeches and addresses of h.r.h. the prince consort; 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[illustration: map of author's travels.] transcriber's notes: punctuation and hyphenation have been normalised. variable, archaic or unusual spelling has been retained. a list of the few corrections made can found at the end of the book. italics indicated by _underscores_. [illustration: greece, turkey, _part of_ russia & poland.] incidents of travel in greece, turkey, russia, and poland. by the author of "incidents of travel in egypt, arabia petrÆa, and the holy land." with a map and engravings. in two volumes. vol. i. seventh edition. new york: harper & brothers, publishers. & pearl street, franklin square. . entered, according to act of congress, in the year , by harper & brothers, in the clerk's office of the southern district of new york. preface to the fifth edition. the fourth edition of this work was published during the author's absence from the city. his publishers, in a preface in his behalf, returned his acknowledgments to the public, and he can but respond to the acknowledgments there made. he has made some alterations in the page relating to the american phil-hellenists; and for the rest, he concludes as in the preface to his first edition. the author has been induced by his publishers to put forth his "incidents of travel in greece, turkey, russia, and poland." in point of time they precede his tour in egypt, arabia petræa, and the holy land. the countries which form the subject of the following pages perhaps do not, in themselves, possess the same interest with those in his first work; but the author has reason to believe that part of his route, particularly from the black sea to the baltic, through the interior of russia, and from st. petersburgh through the interior of poland to warsaw and cracow, is comparatively new to most of his countrymen. as in his first work, his object has been to present a picture of the every-day scenes which occur to the traveller in the countries referred to, rather than any detailed description of the countries themselves. _new york, november, ._ contents of the first volume chapter i. page a hurricane.--an adventure.--missilonghi.--siege of missilonghi.--byron.--marco bozzaris.--visit to the widow, daughters, and brother of bozzaris.--halleck's "marco bozzaris." chapter ii. choice of a servant.--a turnout.--an evening chat.--scenery of the road.--lepanto.--a projected visit.--change of purpose.--padras.--vostitza.--variety and magnificence of scenery. chapter iii. quarrel with the landlord.--Ægina.--sicyon.--corinth.--a distinguished reception.--desolation of corinth.--the acropolis.--view from the acropolis.--lechæum and cenchreæ.--kaka scala.--arrival at athens. chapter iv. american missionary school.--visit to the school.--mr. hill and the male department.--mrs. hill and the female department.--maid of athens.--letter from mr. hill.--revival of athena.--citizens of the world. chapter v. ruins of athens.--hill of mars.--temple of the winds.--lantern of demosthenes.--arch of adrian.--temple of jupiter olympus.--temple of theseus.--the acropolis.--the parthenon.--pentelican mountain.--mount hymettus.--the piræus.--greek fleas.--napoli. chapter vi. argos.--parting and farewell.--tomb of agamemnon.--mycenæ.--gate of the lions.--a misfortune.--meeting in the mountains.--a landlord's troubles.--a midnight quarrel.--one good turn deserves another.--gratitude of a greek family.--megara.--the soldiers' revel. chapter vii. a dreary funeral.--marathon.--mount pentelicus.--a mystery.--woes of a lover.--reveries of glory.--scio's rocky isle.--a blood-stained page of history.--a greek prelate.--desolation.--the exile's return. chapter viii. a noble grecian lady.--beauty of scio.--an original.--foggi.--a turkish coffee-house.--mussulman at prayers.--easter sunday.--a greek priest.--a tartar guide.--turkish ladies.--camel scenes.--sight of a harem.--disappointed hopes.--a rare concert.--arrival at smyrna. chapter ix. first sight of smyrna.--unveiled women.--ruins of ephesus.--ruin, all ruin.--temple of diana.--encounter with a wolf.--love at first sight.--gatherings on the road. chapter x. position of smyrna.--consular privileges.--the case of the lover.--end of the love affair.--the missionary's wife.--the casino.--only a greek row.--rambles in smyrna.--the armenians.--domestic enjoyments. chapter xi. an american original.--moral changes in turkey.--wonders of steam navigation.--the march of mind.--classic localities.--sestos and abydos.--seeds of pestilence. chapter xii. mr. churchill.--commodore porter.--castle of the seven towers.--the sultan's naval architect.--launch of the great ship.--sultan mahmoud.--jubilate.--a national grievance.--visit to a mosque.--the burial-grounds. chapter xiii. visit to the slave-market.--horrors of slavery.--departure from stamboul.--the stormy euxine.--odessa.--the lazaretto.--russian civility.--returning good for evil. chapter xiv. the guardiano.--one too many.--an excess of kindness.--the last day of quarantine.--mr. baguet.--rise of odessa.--city-making.--count woronzow.--a gentleman farmer.--an american russian. incidents of travel in greece, turkey, russia, and poland. chapter i. a hurricane.--an adventure.--missilonghi.--siege of missilonghi.--byron.--marco bozzaris.--visit to the widow, daughters, and brother of bozzaris. on the evening of the ---- february, , by a bright starlight, after a short ramble among the ionian islands, i sailed from zante in a beautiful cutter of about forty tons for padras. my companions were doctor w., an old and valued friend from new-york, who was going to greece merely to visit the episcopal missionary school at athens, and a young scotchman, who had travelled with me through italy, and was going farther, like myself, he knew not exactly why. there was hardly a breath of air when we left the harbour, but a breath was enough to fill our little sail. the wind, though of the gentlest, was fair; and as we crawled from under the lee of the island, in a short time it became a fine sailing breeze. we sat on the deck till a late hour, and turned in with every prospect of being at padras in the morning. before daylight, however, the wind chopped about, and set in dead ahead, and when i went on deck in the morning it was blowing a hurricane. we had passed the point of padras; the wind was driving down the gulf of corinth as if old Æolus had determined on thwarting our purpose; and our little cutter, dancing like a gull upon the angry waters, was driven into the harbour of missilonghi. the town was full in sight, but at such a distance, and the waves were running so high, that we could not reach it with our small boat. a long flat extends several miles into the sea, making the harbour completely inaccessible except to small greek caiques built expressly for such navigation. we remained on board all day; and the next morning, the gale still continuing, made signals to a fishing boat to come off and take us ashore. in a short time she came alongside; we bade farewell to our captain--an italian and a noble fellow, cradled, and, as he said, born to die on the adriatic--and in a few minutes struck the soil of fallen but immortal greece. our manner of striking it, however, was not such as to call forth any of the warm emotions struggling in the breast of the scholar, for we were literally stuck in the mud. we were yet four or five miles from the shore, and the water was so low that the fishing-boat, with the additional weight of four men and luggage, could not swim clear. our boatmen were two long, sinewy greeks, with the red tarbouch, embroidered jacket, sash, and large trousers, and with their long poles set us through the water with prodigious force; but, as soon as the boat struck, they jumped out, and, putting their brawny shoulders under her sides, heaved her through into better water, and then resumed their poles. in this way they propelled her two or three miles, working alternately with their poles and shoulders, until they got her into a channel, when they hoisted the sail, laid directly for the harbour, and drove upon the beach with canvass all flying. during the late greek revolution, missilonghi was the great debarking-place of european adventurers; and, probably, among all the desperadoes who ever landed there, none were more destitute and in better condition to "go ahead" than i; for i had all that i was worth on my back. at one of the ionian islands i had lost my carpet-bag, containing my notebook and every article of wearing apparel except the suit in which i stood. every condition, however, has its advantages; mine put me above porters and custom-house officers; and while my companions were busy with these plagues of travellers, i paced with great satisfaction the shore of greece, though i am obliged to confess that this satisfaction was for reasons utterly disconnected with any recollections of her ancient glories. business before pleasure: one of our first inquiries was for a breakfast. perhaps, if we had seen a monument, or solitary column, or ruin of any kind, it would have inspired us to better things; but there was nothing, absolutely nothing, that could recall an image of the past. besides, we did not expect to land at missilonghi, and were not bound to be inspired at a place into which we were thrown by accident; and, more than all, a drizzling rain was penetrating to our very bones; we were wet and cold, and what can men do in the way of sentiment when their teeth are chattering? the town stands upon a flat, marshy plain, which extends several miles along the shore. the whole was a mass of new-made ruins--of houses demolished and black with smoke--the tokens of savage and desolating war. in front, and running directly along the shore, was a long street of miserable one-story shantees, run up since the destruction of the old town, and so near the shore that sometimes it is washed by the sea, and at the time of our landing it was wet and muddy from the rain. it was a cheerless place, and reminded me of communipaw in bad weather. it had no connexion with the ancient glory of greece, no name or place on her historic page, and no hotel where we could get a breakfast; but one of the officers of the customs conducted us to a shantee filled with bavarian soldiers drinking. there was a sort of second story, accessible only by a ladder; and one end of this was partitioned off with boards, but had neither bench, table, nor any other article of housekeeping. we had been on and almost _in_ the water since daylight, exposed to a keen wind and drizzling rain, and now, at eleven o'clock, could probably have eaten several chickens apiece; but nothing came amiss, and, as we could not get chickens, we took eggs, which, for lack of any vessel to boil them in, were roasted. we placed a huge loaf of bread on the middle of the floor, and seated ourselves around it, spreading out so as to keep the eggs from rolling away, and each hewing off bread for himself. fortunately, the greeks have learned from their quondam turkish masters the art of making coffee, and a cup of this eastern cordial kept our dry bread from choking us. when we came out again the aspect of matters was more cheerful; the long street was swarming with greeks, many of them armed with pistols and yataghan, but miserably poor in appearance, and in such numbers that not half of them could find the shelter of a roof at night. we were accosted by one dressed in a hat and frockcoat, and who, in occasional visits to corfu and trieste, had picked up some italian and french, and a suit of european clothes, and was rather looked up to by his untravelled countrymen. as a man of the world, who had received civilities abroad, he seemed to consider it incumbent upon him to reciprocate at home, and, with the tacit consent of all around, he undertook to do the honours of missilonghi. if, as a greek, he had any national pride about him, he was imposing upon himself a severe task; for all that he could do was to conduct us among ruins, and, as he went along, tell us the story of the bloody siege which had reduced the place to its present woful state. for more than a year, under unparalleled hardships, its brave garrison resisted the combined strength of the turkish and egyptian armies, and, when all hope was gone, resolved to cut their way through the enemy or die in the attempt. many of the aged and sick, the wounded and the women, refused to join in the sortie, and preferred to shut themselves up in an old mill, with the desperate purpose of resisting until they should bring around them a large crowd of turks, when they would blow all up together. an old invalid soldier seated himself in a mine under the bastion bozzaris (the ruins of which we saw), the mine being charged with thirty kegs of gunpowder; the last sacrament was administered by the bishop and priests to the whole population and, at a signal, the besieged made their desperate sortie. one body dashed through the turkish ranks, and, with many women and children, gained the mountains; but the rest were driven back. many of the women ran to the sea and plunged in with their children; husbands stabbed their wives with their own hands to save them from the turks, and the old soldier under the bastion set fire to the train, and the remnant of the heroic garrison buried themselves under the ruins of missilonghi. among them were thirteen foreigners, of whom only one escaped. one of the most distinguished was meyer, a young swiss, who entered as a volunteer at the beginning of the revolution, became attached to a beautiful missilonghiote girl, married her, and, when the final sortie was made, his wife being sick, he remained with her, and was blown up with the others. a letter written a few days before his death, and brought away by one who escaped in the sortie, records the condition of the garrison. "a wound which i have received in my shoulder, while i am in daily expectation of one which will be my passport to eternity, has prevented me till now from bidding you a last adieu. we are reduced to feed upon the most disgusting animals. we are suffering horribly with hunger and thirst. sickness adds much to the calamities which overwhelm us. seventeen hundred and forty of our brothers are dead; more than a hundred thousand bombs and balls thrown by the enemy have destroyed our bastions and our homes. we have been terribly distressed by the cold, for we have suffered great want of food. notwithstanding so many privations, it is a great and noble spectacle to behold the ardour and devotedness of the garrison. a few days more, and these brave men will be angelic spirits, who will accuse before god the indifference of christendom. in the name of all our brave men, among whom are notho bozzaris, *** i announce to you the resolution sworn to before heaven, to defend, foot by foot, the land of missilonghi, and to bury ourselves, without listening to any capitulation, under the ruins of this city. we are drawing near our final hour. history will render us justice. i am proud to think that the blood of a swiss, of a child of william tell, is about to mingle with that of the heroes of greece." but missilonghi is a subject of still greater interest than this, for the reader will remember it as the place where byron died. almost the first questions i asked were about the poet, and it added to the dreary interest which the place inspired, to listen to the manner in which the greeks spoke of him. it might be thought that here, on the spot where he breathed his last, malignity would have held her accursed tongue; but it was not so. he had committed the fault, unpardonable in the eyes of political opponents, of attaching himself to one of the great parties that then divided greece; and though he had given her all that man could give, in his own dying words, "his time, his means, his health, and, lastly, his life," the greeks spoke of him with all the rancour and bitterness of party spirit. even death had not won oblivion for his political offences; and i heard those who saw him die in her cause affirm that byron was no friend to greece. his body, the reader will remember, was transported to england and interred in the family sepulchre. the church where it lay in state is a heap of ruins, and there is no stone or monument recording his death, but, wishing to see some memorial connected with his residence here, we followed our guide to the house in which he died. it was a large square building of stone, one of the walls still standing, black with smoke, the rest a confused and shapeless mass of ruins. after his death it was converted into a hospital and magazine; and, when the turks entered the city, they set fire to the powder; the sick and dying were blown into the air, and we saw the ruins lying as they fell after the explosion. it was a melancholy spectacle, but it seemed to have a sort of moral fitness with the life and fortunes of the poet. it was as if the same wild destiny, the same wreck of hopes and fortunes that attended him through life, were hovering over his grave. living and dead, his actions and his character have been the subject of obloquy and reproach, perhaps justly; but it would have softened the heart of his bitterest enemy to see the place in which he died. it was in this house that, on his last birthday, he came from his bedroom and produced to his friends the last notes of his dying muse, breathing a spirit of sad foreboding and melancholy recollections; of devotion to the noble cause in which he had embarked, and a prophetic consciousness of his approaching end. "my days are in the yellow leaf, the flowers and fruits of love are gone; the worm, the canker, and the grief are mine alone. * * * * * "if thou regret'st thy youth, _why live?_ the land of honourable death is here: up to the field, and give away thy breath! "seek out--less often sought than found-- a soldier's grave, for thee the best; then look around, and choose thy ground, and take thy rest." moving on beyond the range of ruined houses, though still within the line of crumbling walls, we came to a spot perhaps as interesting as any that greece in her best days could show. it was the tomb of marco bozzaris! no monumental marble emblazoned his deeds and fame; a few round stones piled over his head, which, but for our guide, we should have passed without noticing, were all that marked his grave. i would not disturb a proper reverence for the past; time covers with its dim and twilight glories both distant scenes and the men who acted in them, but, to my mind, miltiades was not more of a hero at marathon or leonidas at thermopylæ than marco bozzaris at missilonghi. when they went out against the hosts of persia, athens and sparta were great and free, and they had the prospect of _glory_ and the praise of men, to the greeks always dearer than life. but when the suliote chief drew his sword, his country lay bleeding at the feet of a giant, and all europe condemned the greek revolution as foolhardy and desperate. for two months, with but a few hundred men, protected only by a ditch and slight parapet of earth, he defended the town where his body now rests against the whole egyptian army. in stormy weather, living upon bad and unwholesome bread, with no covering but his cloak, he passed his days and nights in constant vigil; in every assault his sword cut down the foremost assailant, and his voice, rising above the din of battle, struck terror into the hearts of the enemy. in the struggle which ended with his life, with two thousand men he proposed to attack the whole army of mustapha pacha, and called upon all who were willing to die for their country to stand forward. the whole band advanced to a man. unwilling to sacrifice so many brave men in a death-struggle, he chose three hundred, the sacred number of the spartan band, his tried and trusty suliotes. at midnight he placed himself at their head, directing that not a shot should be fired till he sounded his bugle; and his last command was, "if you lose sight of me, seek me in the pacha's tent." in the moment of victory he ordered the pacha to be seized, and received a ball in the loins; his voice still rose above the din of battle, cheering his men until he was struck by another ball in the head, and borne dead from the field of his glory. not far from the grave of bozzaris was a pyramid of sculls, of men who had fallen in the last attack upon the city, piled up near the blackened and battered wall which they had died in defending. in my after wanderings i learned to look more carelessly upon these things; and, perhaps, noticing everywhere the light estimation put upon human life in the east, learned to think more lightly of it myself; but, then, it was melancholy to see bleaching in the sun, under the eyes of their countrymen, the unburied bones of men who, but a little while ago, stood with swords in their hands, and animated by the noble resolution to free their country or die in the attempt. our guide told us that they had all been collected in that place with a view to sepulture; and that king otho, as soon as he became of age and took the government in his own hands, intended to erect a monument over them. in the mean time, they are at the mercy of every passing traveller; and the only remark that our guide made was a comment upon the force and unerring precision of the blow of the turkish sabre, almost every scull being laid open on the side nearly down to the ear. but the most interesting part of our day at missilonghi was to come. returning from a ramble round the walls, we noticed a large square house, which, our guide told us, was the residence of constantine, the brother of marco bozzaris. we were all interested in this intelligence, and our interest was in no small degree increased when he added that the widow and two of the children of the suliote chief were living with his brother. the house was surrounded by a high stone wall, a large gate stood most invitingly wide open, and we turned toward it in the hope of catching a glimpse of the inhabitants; but, before we reached the gate, our interest had increased to such a point that, after consulting with our guide, we requested him to say that, if it would not be considered an intrusion, three travellers, two of them americans, would feel honoured in being permitted to pay their respects to the widow and children of marco bozzaris. we were invited in, and shown into a large room on the right, where three greeks were sitting cross-legged on a divan, smoking the long turkish chibouk. soon after the brother entered, a man about fifty, of middling height, spare built, and wearing a bavarian uniform, as holding a colonel's commission in the service of king otho. in the dress of the dashing suliote he would have better looked the brother of marco bozzaris, and i might then more easily have recognised the daring warrior who, on the field of battle, in a moment of extremity, was deemed, by universal acclamation, worthy of succeeding the fallen hero. now the straight military frockcoat, buttoned tight across the breast, the stock, tight pantaloons, boots, and straps, seemed to repress the free energies of the mountain warrior; and i could not but think how awkward it must be for one who had spent all his life in a dress which hardly touched him, at fifty to put on a stock, and straps to his boots. our guide introduced us, with an apology for our intrusion. the colonel received us with great kindness, thanked us for the honour done his brother's widow, and, requesting us to be seated, ordered coffee and pipes. and here, on the very first day of our arrival in greece, and from a source which made us proud, we had the first evidence of what afterward met me at every step, the warm feeling existing in greece toward america; for almost the first thing that the brother of marco bozzaris said was to express his gratitude as a greek for the services rendered his country by our own; and, after referring to the provisions sent out for his famishing countrymen, his eyes sparkled and his cheek flushed as he told us that, when the greek revolutionary flag first sailed into the port of napoli di romania, among hundreds of vessels of all nations, an american captain was the first to recognise and salute it. in a few moments the widow of marco bozzaris entered. i have often been disappointed in my preconceived notions of personal appearance, but it was not so with the lady who now stood before me; she looked the widow of a hero; as one worthy of her grecian mothers, who gave their hair for bowstrings, their girdle for a sword-belt, and, while their heartstrings were cracking, sent their young lovers from their arms to fight and perish for their country. perhaps it was she that led marco bozzaris into the path of immortality; that roused him from the wild guerilla warfare in which he had passed his early life, and fired him with the high and holy ambition of freeing his country. of one thing i am certain, no man could look in her face without finding his wavering purposes fixed, without treading more firmly in the path of high and honourable enterprise. she was under forty, tall and stately in person and habited in deep black, fit emblem of her widowed condition, with a white handkerchief laid flat over her head, giving the madonna cast to her dark eyes and marble complexion. we all rose as she entered the room; and though living secluded, and seldom seeing the face of a stranger, she received our compliments and returned them with far less embarrassment than we both felt and exhibited. but our embarrassment, at least i speak for myself, was induced by an unexpected circumstance. much as i was interested in her appearance, i was not insensible to the fact that she was accompanied by two young and beautiful girls, who were introduced to us as her daughters. this somewhat bewildered me. while waiting for their appearance, and talking with constantine bozzaris, i had in some way conceived the idea that the daughters were mere children, and had fully made up my mind to take them both on my knee and kiss them; but the appearance of the stately mother recalled me to the grave of bozzaris; and the daughters would probably have thought that i was taking liberties upon so short an acquaintance if i had followed up my benevolent purpose in regard to them; so that, with the long pipe in my hand, which, at that time, i did not know how to manage well, i cannot flatter myself that i exhibited any of the benefit of continental travel. the elder was about sixteen, and even in the opinion of my friend doctor w., a cool judge in these matters, a beautiful girl, possessing in its fullest extent all the elements of grecian beauty: a dark, clear complexion, dark hair, set off by a little red cap embroidered with gold thread, and a long blue tassel hanging down behind, and large black eyes, expressing a melancholy quiet, but which might be excited to shoot forth glances of fire more terrible than her father's sword. happily, too, for us, she talked french, having learned it from a french marquis who had served in greece and been domesticated with them; but young and modest, and unused to the company of strangers, she felt the embarrassment common to young ladies when attempting to speak a foreign language. and we could not talk to her on common themes. our lips were sealed, of course, upon the subject which had brought us to her house. we could not sound for her the praises of her gallant father. at parting, however, i told them that the name of marco bozzaris was as familiar in america as that of a hero of our own revolution, and that it had been hallowed by the inspiration of an american poet; and i added that, if it would not be unacceptable, on my return to my native country i would send the tribute referred to, as an evidence of the feeling existing in america toward the memory of marco bozzaris. my offer was gratefully accepted; and afterward, while in the act of mounting my horse to leave missilonghi, our guide, who had remained behind, came to me with a message from the widow and daughters reminding me of my promise. i do not see that there is any objection to my mentioning that i wrote to a friend, requesting him to procure halleck's "marco bozzaris," and send it to my banker at paris. my friend, thinking to enhance its value, applied to mr. halleck for a copy in his own handwriting. mr. halleck, with his characteristic modesty, evaded the application; and on my return home i told him the story of my visit, and reiterated the same request. he evaded me as he had done my friend, but promised me a copy of the new edition of his poems, which he afterward gave me, and which, i hope, is now in the hands of the widow and daughters of the grecian hero. i make no apology for introducing in a book the widow and daughters of marco bozzaris. true, i was received by them in private, without any expectation, either on their part or mine, that all the particulars of the interview would be noted and laid before the eyes of all who choose to read. i hope it will not be considered invading the sanctity of private life; but, at all events, i make no apology; the widow and children of marco bozzaris are the property of the world. chapter ii. choice of a servant.--a turnout.--an evening chat.--scenery of the road.--lepanto.--a projected visit.--change of purpose.--padras.--vostitza.--variety and magnificence of scenery. barren as our prospect was on landing, our first day in greece had already been full of interest. supposing that we should not find anything to engage us long, before setting out on our ramble we had directed our servant to procure horses, and when we returned we found all ready for our departure. one word with regard to this same servant. we had taken him at corfu, much against my inclination. we had a choice between two, one a full-blooded greek in fustinellas, who in five minutes established himself in my good graces, so that nothing but the democratic principle of submitting to the will of the majority could make me give him up. he held at that time a very good office in the police at corfu, but the eagerness which he showed to get out of regular business and go roving warmed me to him irresistibly. he seemed to be distracted between two opposing feelings; one the strong bent of his natural vagabond disposition to be rambling, and the other a sort of tugging at his heartstrings by wife and children, to keep him in a place where he had a regular assured living, instead of trusting to the precarious business of guiding travellers. he had a boldness and confidence that won me; and when he drew on the sand with his yataghan a map of greece, and told us the route he would take us, zigzag across the gulf of corinth to delphi and the top of parnassus, i wondered that my companions could resist him. our alternative was an italian from somewhere on the coast of the adriatic, whom i looked upon with an unfavourable eye, because he came between me and my greek; and on the morning of our departure i was earnestly hoping that he had overslept himself, or got into some scrape and been picked up by the guard; but, most provokingly, he came in time, and with more baggage than all of us had together. indeed, he had so much of his own, that, in obedience to nature's first law, he could not attend to ours, and in putting ashore some british soldiers at cephalonia he contrived to let my carpet-bag go with their luggage. this did not increase my amiable feeling toward him, and, perhaps, assisted in making me look upon him throughout with a jaundiced eye; in fact, before we had done with him, i regarded him as a slouch, a knave, and a fool, and had the questionable satisfaction of finding that my companions, though they sustained him as long as they could, had formed very much the same opinion. it was to him, then, that, on our return from our visit to the widow and daughters of marco bozzaris, we were indebted for a turnout that seemed to astonish even the people of missilonghi. the horses were miserable little animals, hidden under enormous saddles made of great clumps of wood over an old carpet or towcloth, and covering the whole back from the shoulders to the tail; the luggage was perched on the tops of these saddles, and with desperate exertions and the help of the citizens of missilonghi we were perched on the top of the luggage. the little animals had a knowing look as they peered from under the superincumbent mass, and, supported on either side by the by-standers till we got a little steady in our seats, we put forth from missilonghi. the only gentleman of our party was our servant, who followed on a european saddle which he had brought for his own use, smoking his pipe with great complacency, perfectly satisfied with our appearance and with himself. it was four o'clock when we crossed the broken walls of missilonghi. for three hours our road lay over a plain extending to the sea. i have no doubt, if my greek had been there, he would have given an interest to the road by referring to scenes and incidents connected with the siege of missilonghi; but demetrius--as he now chose to call himself--knew nothing of greece, ancient or modern; he had no sympathy of feeling with the greeks; had never travelled on this side of the gulf of corinth before; and so he lagged behind and smoked his pipe. it was nearly dark when we reached the miserable little village of bokara. we had barely light enough to look around for the best khan in which to pass the night. any of the wretched tenants would have been glad to receive us for the little remuneration we might leave with them in the morning. the khans were all alike, one room, mud floor and walls, and we selected one where the chickens had already gone to roost, and prepared to measure off the dirt floor according to our dimensions. before we were arranged a greek of a better class, followed by half a dozen villagers, came over, and, with many regrets for the wretched state of the country, invited us to his house. though dressed in the greek costume, it was evident that he had acquired his manners in a school beyond the bounds of his miserable little village, in which his house now rose like the leaning tower of pisa, higher than everything else, but rather rickety. in a few minutes we heard the death notes of some chickens, and at about nine o'clock sat down to a not unwelcome meal. several greeks dropped in during the evening, and one, a particular friend of our host's, supped with us. both talked french, and had that perfect ease of manner and savoir faire which i always remarked with admiration in all greeks who had travelled. they talked much of their travels; of time spent in italy and germany, and particularly of a long residence at bucharest. they talked, too, of greece; of her long and bitter servitude, her revolution, and her independence; and from their enthusiasm i could not but think that they had fought and bled in her cause. i certainly was not lying in wait to entrap them, but i afterward gathered from their conversation that they had taken occasion to be on their travels at the time when the bravest of their countrymen were pouring out their blood like water to emancipate their native land. a few years before i might have felt indignation and contempt for men who had left their country in her hour of utmost need, and returned to enjoy the privileges purchased with other men's blood; but i had already learned to take the world as i found it, and listened quietly while our host told us that, confiding in the permanency of the government secured by the three great powers, england, france, and russia, he had returned to greece, and taken a lease of a large tract of land for fifty years, paying a thousand drachms, a drachm being one sixth of a dollar, and one tenth of the annual fruits, at the end of which time one half of the land under cultivation was to belong to his heirs in fee. as our host could not conveniently accommodate us all, m. and demetrius returned to the khan at which we had first stopped and where, to judge from the early hour at which they came over to us the next morning, they had not spent the night as well as we did. at daylight we took our coffee, and again perched our luggage on the backs of the horses, and ourselves on top of the luggage. our host wished us to remain with him, and promised the next day to accompany us to padras; but this was not a sufficient inducement; and taking leave of him, probably for ever, we started for lepanto. we rode about an hour on the plain; the mountains towered on our left, and the rich soil was broken into rough sandy gullies running down to the sea. our guides had some apprehensions that we should not be able to cross the torrents that were running down from the mountain; and when we came to the first, and had to walk up along the bank, looking out for a place to ford, we fully participated in their apprehensions. bridges were a species of architecture entirely unknown in that part of modern greece; indeed, no bridges could have stood against the mountain torrents. there would have been some excitement in encountering these rapid streams if we had been well mounted; but, from the manner in which we were hitched on our horses, we did not feel any great confidence in our seats. still nothing could be wilder or more picturesque than our process in crossing them, except that it might have added somewhat to the effect to see one of us floating down stream, clinging to the tail of his horse. but we got over or through them all. a range of mountains then formed on our right, cutting us off from the sea, and we entered a valley lying between the two parallel ranges. at first the road, which was exceedingly difficult for a man or a sure-footed horse, lay along a beautiful stream, and the whole of the valley extending to the gulf of lepanto is one of the loveliest regions of country i ever saw. the ground was rich and verdant, and, even at that early season of the year, blooming with wild flowers of every hue, but wholly uncultivated, the olive-trees having all been cut down by the turks, and without a single habitation on the whole route. my scotch companion, who had a good eye for the picturesque and beautiful in natural scenery, was in raptures with this valley. i have since travelled in switzerland, not, however, in all the districts frequented by tourists; but in what i saw, beautiful as it is, i do not know a place where the wildness of mountain scenery is so delightfully contrasted with the softness of a rich valley. at the end of the valley, directly opposite padras, and on the borders of the gulf, is a wild road called scala cativa, running along the sides of a rocky, mountainous precipice overlooking the sea. it is a wild and almost fearful road; in some places i thought it like the perpendicular sides of the palisades; and when the wind blows in a particular direction it is impossible to make headway against it. our host told us that we should find difficulty that day; and there was just rudeness enough to make us look well to our movements. directly at our feet was the gulf of corinth; opposite a range of mountains; and in the distance the island of zante. on the other side of the valley is an extraordinary mountain, very high, and wanting a large piece in the middle, as if cut out with a chisel, leaving two straight parallel sides, and called by the unpoetical name of the armchair. in the wildest pan of the scala, where a very slight struggle would have precipitated us several hundred feet into the sea, an enormous shepherd's dog came bounding and barking toward us; and we were much relieved when his master, who was hanging with his flock of goats on an almost inaccessible height, called him away. at the foot of the mountain we entered a rich plain, where the shepherds were pasturing their flocks down to the shore of the sea, and in about two hours arrived at lepanto. after diligent search by demetrius (the name by which we had taken him, whose true name, however, we found to be jerolamon), and by all the idlers whom the arrival of strangers attracted, we procured a room near the farthest wall; it was reached by ascending a flight of steps outside, and boasted a floor, walls, and an apology for a roof. we piled up our baggage in one corner, or, rather, my companions did theirs, and went prowling about in search of something to eat. our servant had not fully apprized us of the extreme poverty of the country, the entire absence of all accommodations for travellers, and the absolute necessity of carrying with us everything requisite for comfort. he was a man of few words, and probably thought that, as between servant and master, example was better than precept, and that the abundant provision he had made for himself might serve as a lesson for us; but, in our case, the objection to this mode of teaching was, that it came too late to be profitable. at the foot of the hill fronting the sea was an open place, in one side of which was a little cafteria, where all the good-for-nothing loungers of lepanto were assembled. we bought a loaf of bread and some eggs, and, with a cup of turkish coffee, made our evening meal. we had an hour before dark, and strolled along the shore. though in a ruinous condition, lepanto is in itself interesting, as giving an exact idea of an ancient greek city, being situated in a commanding position on the side of a mountain running down to the sea, with its citadel on the top, and enclosed by walls and turrets. the port is shut within the walls, which run into the sea, and are erected on the foundations of the ancient naupactus. at a distance was the promontory of actium, where cleopatra, with her fifty ships, abandoned antony, and left to augustus the empire of the world; and directly before us, its surface dotted with a few straggling greek caiques, was the scene of a battle which has rung throughout the world, the great battle of the cross against the crescent, where the allied forces of spain, venice, and the pope, amounting to nearly three hundred sail, under the command of don john of austria, humbled for ever the naval pride of the turks. one hundred and thirty turkish galleys were taken and fifty-five sunk; thirty thousand turks were killed, ten thousand taken prisoners, fifteen thousand christian slaves delivered; and pope pius vi., with holy fervour, exclaimed, "there was a man sent from god, and his name was john." cervantes lost his left hand in this battle; and it is to wounds he received here that he makes a touching allusion when reproached by a rival: "what i cannot help feeling deeply is, that i am stigmatized with being old and maimed, as though it belonged to me to stay the course of time; or as though my wounds had been received in some tavern broil, instead of the most lofty occasion which past ages have yet seen, or which shall ever be seen by those to come. the scars which the soldier wears on his person, instead of badges of infamy, are stars to guide the daring in the path of glory. as for mine, though they may not shine in the eyes of the envious, they are at least esteemed by those who know where they were received; and, even was it not yet too late to choose, i would rather remain as i am, maimed and mutilated, than be now whole of my wounds, without having taken part in so glorious an achievement." i shall, perhaps, be reproached for mingling with the immortal names of don john of austria and cervantes those of george wilson, of providence, rhode island, and james williams, a black of baltimore, cook on board lord cochrane's flagship in the great battle between the greek and turkish fleets. george wilson was a gunner on board one of the greek ships, and conducted himself with so much gallantry, that lord cochrane, at a dinner in commemoration of the event, publicly drank his health. in the same battle james williams, who had lost a finger in the united states service under decatur at algiers, and had conducted himself with great coolness and intrepidity in several engagements, when no greek could be found to take the helm, volunteered his services, and was struck down by a splinter, which broke his legs and arms. the historian will probably never mention these gallant fellows in his quarto volumes; but i hope the american traveller, as he stands at sunset by the shore of the gulf of lepanto, and recalls to mind the great achievements of don john and cervantes, will not forget _george wilson_ and _james williams_. at evening we returned to our room, built a fire in the middle, and, with as much dignity as we could muster, sitting on the floor, received a number of greek visiters. when they left us we wrapped ourselves in our cloaks and lay down to sleep. sleep, however, is not always won when wooed. sometimes it takes the perverse humour of the wild irish boy: "the more you call me, the more i won't come." our room had no chimney; and though, as i lay all night looking up at the roof, there appeared to be apertures enough to let out the smoke, it seemed to have a loving feeling toward us in our lowly position, and clung to us so closely that we were obliged to let the fire go out, and lie shivering till morning. every schoolboy knows how hard it is to write poetry, but few know the physical difficulties of climbing the poetical mountain itself. we had made arrangements to sleep the next night at castri, by the side of the sacred oracle of delphi, a mile up parnassus. our servant wanted to cross over and go up on the other side of the gulf, and entertained us with several stories of robberies committed on this road, to which we paid no attention. the greeks who visited us in the evening related, with much detail, a story of a celebrated captain of brigands having lately returned to his haunt on parnassus, and attacked nine greek merchants, of whom he killed three; the recital of which interesting incident we ascribed to demetrius, and disregarded. early in the morning we mounted our horses and started for parnassus. at the gate of the town we were informed that it was necessary, before leaving, to have a passport from the eparchos, and i returned to procure it. the eparchos was a man about forty-five, tall and stout, with a clear olive complexion and a sharp black eye, dressed in a rich greek costume, and, fortunately, able to speak french. he was sitting cross-legged on a divan, smoking a pipe, and looking out upon the sea; and when i told him my business, he laid down his pipe, repeated the story of the robbery and murder that we had heard the night before, and added that we must abandon the idea of travelling that road. he said, farther, that the country was in a distracted state; that poverty was driving men to desperation; and that, though they had driven out the turks, the greeks were not masters of their own country. hearing that i was an american, and as if in want of a bosom in which to unburden himself, and as one assured of sympathy, he told me the whole story of their long and bloody struggle for independence, and the causes that now made the friends of greece tremble for her future destiny. i knew that the seat of the muses bore a rather suspicious character, and, in fact, that the rocks and caves about parnassus were celebrated as the abodes of robbers, but i was unwilling to be driven from our purpose of ascending it. i went to the military commandant, a bavarian officer, and told him what i had just heard from the eparchos. he said frankly that he did not know much of the state of the country, as he had but lately arrived in it; but, with the true bavarian spirit, advised me, as a general rule, not to believe anything a greek should tell me. i returned to the gate, and made my double report to my companions. dr. w. returned with me to the eparchos, where the latter repeated, with great earnestness, all he had told me; and when i persisted in combating his objections, shrugged his shoulders in a manner that seemed to say, "your blood be on your own heads;" that he had done his duty, and washed his hands of the consequences. as we were going out he called me back, and, recurring to our previous conversation, said that he had spoken to me as an american more freely than he would have done to a stranger, and begged that, as i was going to athens, i would not repeat his words where they could do him injury. i would not mention the circumstance now, but that the political clouds which then hung over the horizon of greece have passed away; king otho has taken his seat on the throne, and my friend has probably long since been driven or retired from public life. i was at that time a stranger to the internal politics of greece, but i afterward found that the eparchos was one of a then powerful body of greeks opposed to the bavarian influence, and interested in representing the state of the country as more unsettled than it really was. i took leave of him, however, as one who had intended me a kindness, and, returning to the gate, found our companion sitting on his horse, waiting the result of our farther inquiries. both he and my fellow envoy were comparatively indifferent upon the subject, while i was rather bent on drinking from the castalian fount, and sleeping on the top of parnassus. besides, i was in a beautiful condition to be robbed. i had nothing but what i had on my back, and i felt sure that a greek mountain robber would scorn my stiff coat and pantaloons and black hat. my companions, however were not so well situated, particularly m., who had drawn money at corfu, and had no idea of trusting it to the tender mercies of a greek bandit. in the teeth of the advice we had received, it would, perhaps, have been foolhardy to proceed; and, to my great subsequent regret, for the first and the last time in my ramblings, i was turned aside from my path by fear of perils on the road. perhaps, after all, i had a lucky escape; for, if the greek tradition be true, whoever sleeps on the mountain becomes an inspired poet or a madman, either of which, for a professional man, is a catastrophe to be avoided. our change of plan suited demetrius exactly; he had never travelled on this side of the gulf of corinth; and, besides that, he considered it a great triumph that his stories of robbers were confirmed by others, showing his superior knowledge of the state of the country; he was glad to get on a road which he had travelled before, and on which he had a chance of meeting some of his old travelling acquaintance. in half an hour he had us on board a caique. we put out from the harbour of lepanto with a strong and favourable wind; our little boat danced lightly over the waters of the gulf of corinth; and in three hours, passing between the frowning castles of romelia and morea, under the shadow of the walls of which were buried the bodies of the christians who fell in the great naval battle, we arrived at padras. the first thing we recognised was the beautiful little cutter which we had left at missilonghi, riding gracefully at anchor in the harbour, and the first man we spoke to on landing was our old friend the captain. we exchanged a cordial greeting, and he conducted us to mr. robertson, the british vice-consul, who, at the moment of our entering, was in the act of directing a letter to me at athens. the subject was my interesting carpet-bag. there being no american consul at padras, i had taken the liberty of writing to mr. robertson, requesting him, if my estate should find its way into his hands, to forward it to me at athens, and the letter was to assure me of his attention to my wishes. it may be considered treason against classical taste, but it consoled me somewhat for the loss of parnassus to find a stranger taking so warm an interest in my fugitive habiliments. there was something, too, in the appearance of padras, that addressed itself to other feelings than those connected with the indulgence of a classical humour. our bones were still aching with the last night's rest, or, rather, the want of it, at lepanto; and when we found ourselves in a neat little locanda, and a complaisant greek asked us what we would have for dinner, and showed us our beds for the night, we almost agreed that climbing parnassus and such things were fit only for boys just out of college. padras is beautifully situated at the mouth of the gulf of corinth, and the windows of our locanda commanded a fine view of the bold mountains on the opposite side of the gulf, and the parallel range forming the valley which leads to missilonghi. it stands on the site of the ancient patræ, enumerated by herodotus among the twelve cities of achaia. during the intervals of peace in the peloponnesian war, alcibiades, about four hundred and fifty years before christ, persuaded its inhabitants to build long walls down to the sea. philip of macedon frequently landed there in his expeditions to peloponnesus. augustus cæsar, after the battle of actium, made it a roman colony, and sent thither a large body of his veteran soldiers; and, in the time of cicero, roman merchants were settled there just as french and italians are now. the modern town has grown up since the revolution, or rather since the accession of otho, and bears no marks of the desolation at missilonghi and lepanto. it contains a long street of shops well supplied with european goods; the english steamers from corfu to malta touch here; and, besides the little greek caiques trading in the gulf of corinth, vessels from all parts of the adriatic are constantly in the harbour. among others, there was an austrian man-of-war from trieste, on her way to alexandria. by a singular fortune, the commandant had been in one of the austrian vessels that carried to new-york the unfortunate poles; the only austrian man-of-war which had ever been to the united states. a day or two after their arrival at new-york i had taken a boat at the battery and gone on board this vessel, and had met the officers at some parties given to them at which he had been present; and though we had no actual acquaintance with each other, these circumstances were enough to form an immediate link between us, particularly as he was enthusiastic in his praises of the hospitality of our citizens and the beauty of our women. lest, however, any of the latter should be vainglorious at hearing that their praises were sounded so far from home, i consider it my duty to say that the commandant was almost blind, very slovenly, always smoking a pipe, and generally a little tipsy. early in the morning we started for athens. our turnout was rather better than at missilonghi, but not much. the day, however, was fine; the cold wind which, for several days, had been blowing down the gulf of corinth, had ceased, and the air was warm, and balmy, and invigorating. we had already found that greece had something to attract the stranger besides the recollections of her ancient glories, and often forgot that the ground we were travelling was consecrated by historians and poets, in admiration of its own wild and picturesque beauty. our road for about three hours lay across a plain, and then close along the gulf, sometimes winding by the foot of a wild precipitous mountain, and then again over a plain, with the mountains rising at some distance on our right. sometimes we rose and crossed their rugged summits, and again descended to the seashore. on our left we had constantly the gulf, bordered on the opposite side by a range of mountains sometimes receding and then rising almost out of the water, while high above the rest rose the towering summits of parnassus covered with snow. it was after dark when we arrived at vostitza, beautifully situated on the banks of the gulf of corinth. this is the representative of the ancient Ægium, one of the most celebrated cities in greece, mentioned by homer as having supplied vessels for the trojan war, and in the second century containing sixteen sacred edifices, a theatre, a portico, and an agora. for many ages it was the seat of the achaian congress. probably the worthy delegates who met here to deliberate upon the affairs of greece had better accommodations than we obtained, or they would be likely, i should imagine, to hold but short sessions. we stopped at a vile locanda, the only one in the place, where we found a crowd of men in a small room, gathered around a dirty table, eating, one of whom sprang up and claimed me as an old acquaintance. he had on a greek capote and a large foraging cap slouched over his eyes, so that i had some difficulty in recognising him as an italian who, at padras, had tried to persuade me to go by water up to the head of the gulf. he had started that morning, about the same time we did, with a crowd of passengers, half of whom were already by the ears. fortunately, they were obliged to return to their boats, and left all the house to us; which, however, contained little besides a strapping greek, who called himself its proprietor. before daylight we were again in the saddle. during the whole day's ride the scenery was magnificent. sometimes we were hemmed in as if for ever enclosed in an amphitheatre of wild and gigantic rocks; then from some lofty summit we looked out upon lesser mountains, broken, and torn, and thrown into every wild and picturesque form, as if by an earthquake; and after riding among deep dells and craggy steeps, yawning ravines and cloud-capped precipices, we descended to a quiet valley and the seashore. at about four o'clock we came down, for the last time, to the shore, and before us, at some distance, espied a single khan, standing almost on the edge of the water. it was a beautiful resting-place for a traveller; the afternoon was mild, and we walked on the shore till the sun set. the khan was sixty or seventy feet long, and contained an upper room running the whole length of the building. this room was our bedchamber. we built a fire at one end, made tea, and roasted some eggs, the smoke ascending and curling around the rafters, and finally passing out of the openings in the roof; we stretched ourselves in our cloaks and, with the murmur of the waves in our ears, looked through the apertures in the roof upon the stars, and fell asleep. about the middle of the night the door opened with a rude noise, and a tall greek, almost filling the doorway, stood on the threshold. after pausing a moment he walked in, followed by half a dozen gigantic companions, their tall figures, full dresses, and the shining of their pistols and yataghans wearing a very ugly look to a man just roused from slumber. but they were merely greek pedlers or travelling merchants, and, without any more noise, kindled the fire anew, drew their capotes around them, stretched themselves upon the floor, and were soon asleep. chapter iii. quarrel with the landlord.--Ægina.--sicyon.--corinth.--a distinguished reception.--desolation of corinth.--the acropolis.--view from the acropolis.--lechæum and cenchreæ.--kaka scala.--arrival at athens. in the morning demetrius had a roaring quarrel with the keeper of the locanda, in which he tried to keep back part of the money we gave him to pay for us. he did this, however, on principle, for we had given twice as much as our lodging was worth, and no man ought to have more. his character was at stake in preventing any one from cheating us too much; and, in order to do this, he stopped our funds in transitu. we started early, and for some time our road lay along the shore. it was not necessary, surrounded by such magnificent scenery, to draw upon historical recollections for the sake of giving interest to the road; still it did not diminish that interest to know that, many centuries ago, great cities stood here, whose sites are now desolate or occupied as the miserable gathering-places of a starving population. directly opposite parnassus, and at the foot of a hill crowned with the ruins of an acropolis, in perfect desolation now, stood the ancient Ægira; once numbering a population of ten thousand inhabitants, and in the second century containing three hiera, a temple, and another sacred edifice. farther on, and toward the head of the gulf of corinth, the miserable village of basilico stands on the site of the ancient sicyon, boasting as high an antiquity as any city in greece, and long celebrated as the first of her schools of painting. in five hours we came in sight of the acropolis of corinth, and, shortly after, of corinth itself. the reader need not fear my plunging him deeply into antiquities. greece has been explored, and examined, and written upon, till the subject is almost threadbare; and i do not flatter myself that i discovered in it anything new. still no man from such a distant country as mine can find himself crossing the plain of corinth, and ascending to the ancient city, without a strange and indescribable feeling. we have no old monuments, no classical associations; and our history hardly goes beyond the memory of that venerable personage, "the oldest inhabitant." corinth is so old that its early records are blended with the history of the heathen gods. the corinthians say that it was called after the son of jupiter, and its early sovereigns were heroes of the grecian mythology. it was the friend of sparta and the rival of athens; the first city to build war-galleys and send forth colonies, which became great empires. it was the assembling-place of their delegates, who elected philip, and afterward alexander the great, to conduct the war against the persians. in painting, sculpture, and architecture surpassing all the achievements of greece, or which the genius of man has ever since accomplished. conquered by the then barbarous romans, her walls were razed to the ground, her men put to the sword, her women and children sold into captivity, and the historian who records her fall writes that he saw the finest pictures thrown wantonly on the ground, and roman soldiers playing on them at draughts and dice. for many years deserted, corinth was again peopled; rose rapidly from its ruins; and, when st. paul abode there "a year and six months"--to the christian the most interesting period in her history--she was again a populous city, and the corinthians a luxurious people. its situation in the early ages of the world could not fail to make it a great commercial emporium. in the inexperienced navigation of early times it was considered difficult and dangerous to go around the point of the peloponnesus, and there was a proverb, "before the mariner doubles cape malea, he should forget all he holds dearest in the world." standing on the isthmus commanding the adriatic and Ægean seas; receiving in one hand the riches of asia and in the other those of europe; distributing them to every quarter of the then known world, wealth followed commerce, and then came luxury and extravagance to such an extent that it became a proverb, "it is not for every man to go to corinth." as travellers having regard to supper and lodging, we should have been glad to see some vestige of its ancient luxury; but times are changed; the ruined city stands where stood corinth of old, but it has fallen once more; the sailor no longer hugs the well-known coasts, but launches fearlessly into the trackless ocean, and corinth can never again be what she has been. our servant had talked so much of the hotel at corinth, that perhaps the idea of bed and lodging was rather too prominent in our reveries as we approached the fallen city. he rode on before to announce our coming, and, working our way up the hill through narrow streets, stared at by all the men, followed by a large representation from the juvenile portion of the modern corinthians, and barked at by the dogs, we turned into a large enclosure, something like a barnyard, on which opened a ruined balcony forming the entrance to the hotel. demetrius was standing before it with our host, as unpromising a looking scoundrel as ever took a traveller in. he had been a notorious captain of brigands, and when his lawless band was broken up and half of its number hanged, he could not overcome his disposition to prey upon travellers, but got a couple of mattresses and bedsteads, and set up a hotel at corinth. demetrius had made a bargain for us at a price that made him hang his head when he told it, and we were so indignant at the extortion that we at first refused to dismount. our host stood aloof, being used to such scenes, and perfectly sure that, after storming a little, we should be glad to take the only beds between padras and athens. in the end, however, we got the better both of him and demetrius; for, as he had fixed separate prices for dinner, beds, and breakfast, we went to a little greek coffee-house, and raised half corinth to get us something to eat, and paid him only for our lodging. we had a fine afternoon before us, and our first movement was to the ruins of a temple, the only monument of antiquity in corinth. the city has been so often sacked and plundered, that not a column of the corinthian order exists in the place from which it derives its name. seven columns of the old temple are still standing, fluted and of the doric order, though wanting in height the usual proportion to the diameter; built probably before that order had attained its perfection, and long before the corinthian order was invented; though when it was built, by whom, or to what god it was consecrated, antiquaries cannot agree in deciding. contrasted with these solitary columns of an unknown antiquity are ruins of yesterday. houses fallen, burned, and black with smoke, as if the wretched inmates had fled before the blaze of their dwellings; and high above the ruined city, now as in the days when the persian and roman invaded it, still towers the acropolis, a sharp and naked rock, rising abruptly a thousand feet from the earth, inaccessible and impregnable under the science of ancient war; and in all times of invasion and public distress, from her earliest history down to the bloody days of the late revolution, the refuge of the inhabitants. [illustration: corinth.] it was late in the afternoon when we set out for the acropolis. about a mile from the city we came to the foot of the hill, and ascended by a steep and difficult path, with many turnings and windings, to the first gate. having been in the saddle since early in the morning, we stopped several times to rest, and each time lingered and looked out with admiration upon the wild and beautiful scenery around us; and we thought of the frequently recurring times when hostile armies had drawn up before the city at our feet, and the inhabitants, in terror and confusion, had hurried up this path and taken refuge within the gate before us. inside the gate were the ruins of a city, and here, too, we saw the tokens of ruthless war; the fire-brand was hardly yet extinguished, and the houses were in ruins. within a few years it has been the stronghold and refuge of infidels and christians, taken and retaken, destroyed, rebuilt, and destroyed again, and the ruins of turkish mosques and christian churches are mingled together in undistinguishable confusion. this enclosure is abundantly supplied with water, issuing from the rock, and is capable of containing several thousand people. the fountain of pyrene, which supplies the acropolis, called the most salubrious in greece, is celebrated as that at which pegasus was drinking when taken by bellerophon. ascending among ruined and deserted habitations, we came to a second gate flanked by towers. a wall about two miles in circumference encloses the whole summit of the rock, including two principal points which still rise above the rest. one is crowned with a tower and the other with a mosque, now in ruins; probably erected where once stood a heathen temple. some have mistaken it for a christian church, but all agree that it is a place built and consecrated to divine use, and that, for unknown ages men have gone up to this cloud-capped point to worship their creator. it was a sublime idea to erect on this lofty pinnacle an altar to the almighty. above us were only the unclouded heavens; the sun was setting with that brilliancy which attends his departing glory nowhere but in the east; and the sky was glowing with a lurid red, as of some great conflagration. the scene around and below was wondrously beautiful. mountains and rivers, seas and islands, rocks, forests, and plains, thrown together in perfect wantonness, and yet in the most perfect harmony, and every feature in the expanded landscape consecrated by the richest associations. on one side the saronic gulf, with its little islands, and Ægina and salamis, stretching off to "sunium's marble height," with the ruins of its temple looking out mournfully upon the sea; on the other, the gulf of corinth or lepanto, bounded by the dark and dreary mountains of cytheron, where acteon, gazing at the goddess, was changed into a stag, and hunted to death by his own hounds; and where bacchus, with his train of satyrs and frantic bacchantes, celebrated his orgies. beyond were helicon, sacred to apollo and the muses, and parnassus, covered with snow. behind us towered a range of mountains stretching away to argos and the ancient sparta, and in front was the dim outline of the temple of the acropolis at athens. the shades of evening gathered thick around us while we remained on the top of the acropolis, and it was dark long before we reached our locanda. the next morning we breakfasted at the coffee-house, and left corinth wonderfully pleased at having outwitted demetrius and our brigand host, who gazed after us with a surly scowl as we rode away, and probably longed for the good old days when, at the head of his hanged companions, he could have stopped us at the first mountain-pass and levied contributions at his own rate. i probably condemn myself when i say that we left this ancient city with such a trifle uppermost in our thoughts, but so it was; we bought a loaf of bread as we passed through the market-place, and descended to the plain of corinth. we had still the same horses which we rode from padras; they were miserable animals, and i did not mount mine the whole day. indeed, this is the true way to travel in greece; the country is mountainous, and the road or narrow horse-path so rough and precipitous that the traveller is often obliged to dismount and walk. the exercise of clambering up the mountains and the purity of the air brace every nerve in the body, and not a single feature of the scenery escapes the eye. but, as yet, there are other things beside scenery; on each side of the road and within site of each other are the ruins of the ancient cities of lechæum and cenchreæ, the ports of corinth on the corinthian and saronic gulfs; the former once connected with it by two long walls, and the road to the latter once lined with temples and sepulchres, the ruins of which may still be seen. the isthmus connecting the peloponnesus with the continent is about six miles wide, and corinth owed her commercial greatness to the profits of her merchants in transporting merchandise across it. entire vessels were sometimes carried from one sea and launched into the other. the project of a canal across suggested itself both to the greeks and romans, and there yet exist traces of a ditch commenced for that purpose. on the death of leonidas, and in apprehension of a persian invasion, the peloponnesians built a wall across the isthmus from lechæum to cenchreæ. this wall was at one time fortified with a hundred and fifty towers; it was often destroyed and as often rebuilt; and in one place, about three miles from corinth, vestiges of it may still be seen. here were celebrated those isthmian games so familiar to every tyro in grecian literature and history; toward mount oneus stands on an eminence an ancient mound, supposed to be the tomb of melicertes, their founder, and near it is at this day a grove of the sacred pine, with garlands of the leaves of which the victors were crowned. in about three hours from corinth we crossed the isthmus, and came to the village of kalamaki on the shore of the saronic gulf, containing a few miserable buildings, fit only for the miserable people who occupied them. directly on the shore was a large coffee-house enclosed by mud walls, and having branches of trees for a roof; and in front was a little flotilla of greek caiques. next to the greek's love for his native mountains is his passion for the waters that roll at their feet; and many of the proprietors of the rakish little boats in the harbour talked to us of the superior advantage of the sea over a mountainous road, and tried to make us abandon our horses and go by water to athens; but we clung to the land, and have reason to congratulate ourselves upon having done so, for our road was one of the most beautiful it was ever my fortune to travel over. for some distance i walked along the shore, on the edge of a plain running from the foot of mount geranion. the plain was intersected by mountain torrents, the channel-beds of which were at that time dry. we passed the little village of caridi, supposed to be the sidus of antiquity, while a ruined church and a few old blocks of marble mark the site of ancient crommyon, celebrated as the haunt of a wild boar destroyed by theseus. at the other end of the plain we came to the foot of mount geranion, stretching out boldly to the edge of the gulf, and followed the road along its southern side close to and sometimes overhanging the sea. from time immemorial this has been called the kaka scala, or bad way. it is narrow, steep, and rugged, and wild to sublimity. sometimes we were completely hemmed in by impending mountains, and then rose upon a lofty eminence commanding an almost boundless view. on the summit of the range the road runs directly along the mountain's brink, overhanging the sea, and so narrow that two horsemen can scarcely pass abreast; where a stumble would plunge the traveller several hundred yards into the waters beneath. indeed, the horse of one of my companions stumbled and fell, and put him in such peril that both dismounted and accompanied me on foot. in the olden time this wild and rugged road was famous as the haunt of the robber sciron, who plundered the luckless travellers, and then threw them from this precipice. the fabulous account is, that theseus, three thousand years before, on his first visit to athens, encountered the famous robber, and tossed him from the same precipice whence he had thrown so many better men. according to ovid, the earth and the sea refused to receive the bones of sciron, which continued for some time suspended in the open air, until they were changed into large rocks, whose points still appear at the foot of the precipice; and to this day, say the sailors, knock the bottoms out of the greek vessels. in later days this road was so infested by corsairs and pirates, that even the turks feared to travel on it; at one place, that looks as though it might be intended as a jumping-off point into another world, ino, with her son melicertes in her arms (so say the greek poets), threw herself into the sea to escape the fury of her husband; and we know that in later days st. paul travelled on this road to preach the gospel to the corinthians. but, independently of all associations, and in spite of its difficulties and dangers, if a man were by accident placed on the lofty height without knowing where he was, he would be struck with the view which it commands, as one of the most beautiful that mortal eyes ever beheld. it was my fortune to pass over it a second time on foot, and i often seated myself on some wild point, and waited the coming up of my muleteers, looking out upon the sea, calm and glistening as if plated with silver, and studded with islands in continuous clusters stretching away into the Ægean. during the greater part of the passage of the kaka scala my companions walked with me; and, as we always kept in advance, when we seated ourselves on some rude rock overhanging the sea to wait for our beasts and attendants, few things could be more picturesque than their approach. on the summit of the pass we fell into the ancient paved way that leads from attica into the peloponnesus, and walked over the same pavement which the greeks travelled, perhaps, three thousand years ago. a ruined wall and gate mark the ancient boundary; and near this an early traveller observed a large block of white marble projecting over the precipice, and almost ready to fall into the sea, which bore an inscription, now illegible. here it is supposed stood the stèle erected by theseus, bearing on one side the inscription, "here is peloponnesus, not ionia;" and on the other the equally pithy notification, "here is not peloponnesus, but ionia." it would be a pretty place of residence for a man in misfortune; for, besides the extraordinary beauty of the scenery, by a single step he might avoid the service of civil process, and set the sheriff of attica or the peloponnesus at defiance. descending, we saw before us a beautiful plain, extending from the foot of the mountain to the sea, and afar off, on an eminence commanding the plain, was the little town of megara. it is unfortunate for the reader that every ruined village on the road stands on the site of an ancient city. the ruined town before us was the birthplace of euclid, and the representative of that megara which is distinguished in history more than two thousand years ago; which sent forth its armies in the persian and peloponnesian wars; alternately the ally and enemy of corinth and athens; containing numerous temples, and the largest public houses in greece; and though exposed, with her other cities, to the violence of a fierce democracy, as is recorded by the historian, "the megareans retained their independence and lived in peace." as a high compliment, the people offered to alexander the great the freedom of their city. when we approached it its appearance was a speaking comment upon human pride. it had been demolished and burned by greeks and turks, and now presented little more than a mass of blackened ruins. a few apartments had been cleared out and patched up, and occasionally i saw a solitary figure stalking amid the desolation. i had not mounted my horse all day; had kicked out a pair of greek shoes on my walk, and was almost barefoot when i entered the city. a little below the town was a large building enclosed by a high wall, with a bavarian soldier lounging at the gate. we entered, and found a good coffee-room below, and a comfortable bed chamber above, where we found good quilts and mattresses, and slept like princes. early in the morning we set out for athens, our road for some time lying along the sea. about half way to the piræus, a ruined village, with a starving population, stands on the site of the ancient eleusis, famed throughout all greece for the celebration of the mysterious rites of ceres. the magnificent temple of the goddess has disappeared, and the colossal statue made by the immortal phidias now adorns the vestibule of the university at cambridge. we lingered a little while in the village, and soon after entered the via sacra, by which, centuries ago, the priests and people moved in solemn religious processions from athens to the great temple of ceres. at first we passed underneath the cliff along the shore, then rose by a steep ascent among the mountains, barren and stony, and wearing an aspect of desolation equal to that of the roman campagna; then we passed through a long defile, upon the side of which, deeply cut in the rock, are seen the marks of chariot-wheels; perhaps of those used in the sacred processions. we passed the ruined monastery of daphne, in a beautifully picturesque situation, and in a few minutes saw the rich plain of attica; and our muleteers and demetrius, with a burst of enthusiasm, perhaps because the journey was ended, clapped their hands and cried out, "atinæ! atinæ!" the reader, perhaps, trembles at the name of athens, but let him take courage. i promise to let him off easily. a single remark, however, before reaching it. the plain of attica lies between two parallel ranges of mountains, and extends from the sea many miles back into the interior. on the border of the sea stands the piræus, now, as in former times, the harbour of the city, and toward the east, on a little eminence, athens itself, like the other cities in greece, presenting a miserable appearance, the effects of protracted and relentless wars. but high above the ruins of the modern city towers the acropolis, holding up to the skies the ruined temples of other days, and proclaiming what athens was. we wound around the temple of theseus, the most beautiful and perfect specimen of architecture that time has spared; and in striking contrast with this monument of the magnificence of past days, here, in the entrance to the city, our horses were struggling and sinking up to their saddle-girths in the mud. we did in athens what we should have done in boston or philadelphia; rode up to the best hotel, and, not being able to obtain accommodations there, rode to another; where, being again refused admittance, we were obliged to distribute ourselves into three parcels. dr. willet went to mr. hill's (of whom more anon). m. found entrance at a new hotel in the suburbs, and i betook myself to the hotel de france. the garçon was rather bothered when i threw him a pair of old boots which i had hanging at my saddle-bow, and told him to take care of my baggage; he asked me when the rest would come up; and hardly knew what to make of me when i told him that was all i travelled with. i was still standing in the court of the hotel, almost barefoot, and thinking of the prosperous condition of the owner of a dozen shirts, and other things conforming, when mr. hill came over and introduced himself; and telling me that his house was the house of every american, asked me to waive ceremony and bring my luggage over at once. this was again hitting my sore point; everybody seemed to take a special interest in my luggage, and i was obliged to tell my story more than once. i declined mr. hill's kind invitation, but called upon him early the next day, dined with him, and, during the whole of my stay in athens, was in the habit, to a great extent, of making his house my home; and this, i believe, is the case with all the americans who go there; besides which, some borrow his money, and others his clothes. chapter iv. american missionary school.--visit to the school.--mr. hill and the male department.--mrs. hill and the female department.--maid of athens.--letter from mr. hill.--revival of athens.--citizens of the world. the first thing we did in athens was to visit the american missionary school. among the extraordinary changes of an ever-changing world, it is not the least that the young america is at this moment paying back the debt which the world owes to the mother of science, and the citizen of a country which the wisest of the greeks never dreamed of, is teaching the descendants of plato and aristotle the elements of their own tongue. i did not expect among the ruins of athens to find anything that would particularly touch my national feelings, but it was a subject of deep and interesting reflection that, in the city which surpassed all the world in learning, where socrates, and plato, and aristotle taught, and cicero went to study, the only door of instruction was that opened by the hands of american citizens, and an american missionary was the only schoolmaster; and i am ashamed to say that i was not aware of the existence of such an institution until advised of it by my friend dr. w. in eighteen hundred and thirty the rev. messrs. hill and robinson, with their families, sailed from this city (new-york) as the agents of the episcopal missionary society, to found schools in greece. they first established themselves in the island of tenos; but, finding that it was not the right field for their labours, employed themselves in acquiring a knowledge of the language, and of the character and habits of the modern greeks. their attention was directed to athens, and in the spring of eighteen hundred and thirty-one they made a visit to that city, and were so confirmed in their impressions, that they purchased a lot of ground on which to erect edifices for a permanent establishment, and, in the mean time, rented a house for the immediate commencement of a school. they returned to tenos for their families and effects, and again arrived at athens about the end of june following. from the deep interest taken in their struggle for liberty, and the timely help furnished them in their hour of need, the greeks were warmly prepossessed in favour of our countrymen; and the conduct of the missionaries themselves was so judicious, that they were received with the greatest respect and the warmest welcome by the public authorities and the whole population of athens. their furniture, printing-presses, and other effects were admitted free of duties; and it is but justice to them to say that, since that time, they have moved with such discretion among an excitable and suspicious people, that, while they have advanced in the great objects of their mission, they have grown in the esteem and good-will of the best and most influential inhabitants of greece; and so great was mr. hill's confidence in their affections, that, though there was at that time a great political agitation, and it was apprehended that athens might again become the scene of violence and bloodshed, he told me he had no fears, and felt perfectly sure that, in any outbreaking of popular fury, himself and family, and the property of the mission, would be respected.[ ] in the middle of the summer of their arrival at athens, mrs. hill opened a school for girls in the magazine or cellar of the house in which they resided; the first day she had twenty pupils, and in two months one hundred and sixty-seven. of the first ninety-six, not more than six could read at all, and that very imperfectly; and not more than ten or twelve knew a letter. at the time of our visit the school numbered nearly five hundred; and when we entered the large room, and the scholars all rose in a body to greet us as americans, i felt a deep sense of regret that, personally, i had no hand in such a work, and almost envied the feelings of my companion, one of its patrons and founders. besides teaching them gratitude to those from whose country they derived the privileges they enjoyed, mr. hill had wisely endeavoured to impress upon their minds a respect for the constituted authorities, particularly important in that agitated and unsettled community; and on one end of the wall, directly fronting the seats of the scholars, was printed, in large greek characters, the text of scripture, "fear god, honour the king." it was all important for the missionaries not to offend the strong prejudices of the greeks by any attempt to withdraw the children from the religion of their fathers; and the school purports to be, and is intended for, the diffusion of elementary education only; but it is opened in the morning with prayer, concluding with the lord's prayer as read in our churches, which is repeated by the whole school aloud; and on sundays, besides the prayers, the creed, and sometimes the ten commandments, are recited, and a chapter from the gospels is read aloud by one of the scholars, the missionaries deeming this more expedient than to conduct the exercises themselves. the lesson for the day is always the portion appointed for the gospel of the day in their own church; and they close by singing a hymn. the room is thrown open to the public, and is frequently resorted to by the parents of the children and strangers; some coming, perhaps, says mr. hill, to "hear what these babblers will say," and "other some" from a suspicion that "we are setters forth of strange gods." the boys' school is divided into three departments, the lowest under charge of a greek qualified on the lancasterian system. they were of all ages, from three to eighteen; and, as mr. hill told me, most of them had been half-clad, dirty, ragged little urchins, who, before they were put to their a, b, c, or, rather, their alpha, beta, gamma, delta, had to be thoroughly washed, rubbed, scrubbed, doctored, and dressed, and, but for the school, would now, perhaps, be prowling vagabonds in the streets of athens, or training for robbery in the mountains. they were a body of fine-looking boys, possessing, as mr. hill told me, in an extraordinary degree, all that liveliness of imagination, that curiosity and eagerness after knowledge, which distinguished the greeks of old, retaining, under centuries of dreadful oppression, the recollection of the greatness of their fathers, and, what was particularly interesting, many of them bearing the great names so familiar in grecian history; i shook hands with a little miltiades, leonidas, aristides, &c., in features and apparent intelligence worthy descendants of the immortal men whose names they bear. and there was one who startled me, he was the son of the maid of athens! to me the maid of athens was almost an imaginary being, something fanciful, a creation of the brain, and not a corporeal substance, to have a little urchin of a boy. but so it was. the maid of athens is married. she had a right to marry, no doubt; and it is said that there is poetry in married life, and, doubtless, she is a much more interesting person now than the maid of athens at thirty-six could be; but the maid of athens is married to a scotchman! the maid of athens is now mrs. black! wife of george black. comment is unnecessary. but the principal and most interesting part of this missionary school was the female department, under the direction of mrs. hill, the first, and, except at syra, the only school for females in all greece, and particularly interesting to me from the fact that it owed its existence to the active benevolence of my own country-women. at the close of the greek revolution, female education was a thing entirely unknown in greece, and the women of all classes were in a most deplorable state of ignorance. when the strong feeling that ran through our country in favour of this struggling people had subsided, and greece was freed from the yoke of the mussulman, an association of ladies in the little town of troy, perhaps instigated somewhat by an inherent love of power and extended rule, and knowing the influence of their sex in a cultivated state of society, formed the project of establishing at athens a school exclusively for the education of females; and, humble and unpretending as was its commencement, it is becoming a more powerful instrument in the civilization and moral and religious improvement of greece, than all that european diplomacy has ever done for her. the girls were distributed in different classes, according to their age and advancement; they had clean faces and hands, a rare thing with greek children, and were neatly dressed, many of them wearing frocks made by ladies at home (probably at some of our sewing societies); and some of them had attained such an age, and had such fine, dark, rolling eyes as to make even a northern temperament feel the powerful influence they would soon exercise over the rising, excitable generation of greeks and almost make him bless the hands that were directing that influence aright. mr. and mrs. hill accompanied us through the whole establishment, and, being americans, we were everywhere looked upon and received by the girls as patrons and fathers of the school, both which characters i waived in favour of my friend; the one because he was really entitled to it, and the other because some of the girls were so well grown that i did not care to be regarded as standing in that venerable relationship. the didaskalissas, or teachers, were of this description, and they spoke english. occasionally mr. hill called a little girl up to us, and told us her history, generally a melancholy one, as, being reduced to the extremity of want by the revolution; or an orphan, whose parents had been murdered by the turks; and i had a conversation with a little penelope, who, however, did not look as if she would play the faithful wife of ulysses, and, if i am a judge of physiognomy, would never endure widowhood twenty years for any man. before we went away the whole school rose at once, and gave us a glorious finale with a greek hymn. in a short time these girls will grow up into women and return to their several families; others will succeed them, and again go out, and every year hundreds will distribute themselves in the cities and among the fastnesses of the mountains, to exercise over their fathers, and brothers, and lovers, the influence of the education acquired here; instructed in all the arts of woman in civilized domestic life, firmly grounded in the principles of morality, and of religion purified from the follies, absurdities, and abominations of the greek faith. i have seen much of the missionary labours in the east, but i do not know an institution which promises so surely the happiest results. if the women are educated, the men cannot remain ignorant; if the women are enlightened in religion, the men cannot remain debased and degraded christians. the ex-secretary rigos was greatly affected at the appearance of this female school; and, after surveying it attentively for some moments, pointed to the parthenon on the summit of the acropolis, and said to mrs. hill, with deep emotion, "lady, you are erecting in athens a monument more enduring and more noble than yonder temple;" and the king was so deeply impressed with its value, that, a short time before my arrival, he proposed to mr. hill to take into his house girls from different districts and educate them as teachers, with the view of sending them back to their districts, there to organize new schools, and carry out the great work of female education. mr. hill acceded to the proposal, and the american missionary school now stands as the nucleus of a large and growing system of education in greece; and, very opportunely for my purpose, within a few days i have received a letter from mr. hill, in which, in relation to the school, he says, "our missionary establishment is much increased since you saw it; our labours are greatly increased, and i think i may say we have now reached the summit of what we had proposed to ourselves. we do not think it possible that it can be extended farther without much larger means and more personal aid. we do not wish or intend to ask for either. we have now nearly forty persons residing with us, of whom thirty-five are greeks, all of whom are brought within the influence of the gospel; the greater part of them are young girls from different parts of greece, and even from egypt and turkey (greeks, however), whom we are preparing to become instructresses of youth hereafter in their various districts. we have five hundred, besides, under daily instruction in the different schools under our care, and we employ under us in the schools twelve native teachers, who have themselves been instructed by us. we have provided for three of our dear pupils (all of whom were living with us when you were here), who are honourably and usefully settled in life. one is married to a person every way suited to her, and both husband and wife are in our missionary service. one has charge of the government female school at the piræus, and supports her father and mother and a large family by her salary; and the third has gone with our missionaries to crete, to take charge of the female schools there. we have removed into our new house" (of which the foundation was just laid at the time of my visit), "and, large as it is, it is not half large enough. we are trying to raise ways and means to enlarge it considerably, that we may take more boarders under our own roof, which we look up to as the most important means of making sure of our labour; for every one who comes to reside with us is taken away from the corrupt example exhibited at home, and brought within a wholesome influence. lady byron has just sent us one hundred pounds toward enlarging our house with this view, and we have commenced the erection of three additional dormitories with the money." athens is again the capital of a kingdom. enthusiasts see in her present condition the promise of a restoration to her ancient greatness; but reason and observation assure us that the world is too much changed for her ever to be what she has been. in one respect, her condition resembles that of her best days; for, as her fame then attracted strangers from every quarter of the world to study in her schools, so now the capital of king otho has become a great gathering-place of wandering spirits from many near and distant regions. for ages difficult and dangerous of access, the ancient capital of the arts lay shrouded in darkness, and almost cut off from the civilized world. at long intervals, a few solitary travellers only found their way to it; but, since the revolution, it has again become a place of frequent resort and intercourse. it is true that the ancient halls of learning are still solitary and deserted, but strangers from every nation now turn hither; the scholar to roam over her classic soil, the artist to study her ancient monuments, and the adventurer to carve his way to fortune. the first day i dined at the hotel i had an opportunity of seeing the variety of material congregated in the reviving city. we had a long table, capable of accommodating about twenty persons. the manner of living was à la carte, each guest dining when he pleased; but, by tacit consent, at about six o'clock all assembled at the table. we presented a curious medley. no two were from the same country. our discourse was in english, french, italian, german, greek, russian, polish, and i know not what else, as if we were the very people stricken with confusion of tongues at the tower of babel. dinner over, all fell into french, and the conversation became general. every man present was, in the fullest sense of the term, a citizen of the world. it had been the fortune of each, whether good or bad, to break the little circle in which so many are born, revolve, and die; and the habitual mingling with people of various nations had broken down all narrow prejudices, and given to every one freedom of mind and force of character. all had seen much, had much to communicate, and felt that they had much yet to learn. by some accident, moreover, all seemed to have become particularly interested in the east. they travelled over the whole range of eastern politics, and, to a certain extent, considered themselves identified with eastern interests. most of the company were or had been soldiers, and several wore uniforms and stars, or decorations of some description. they spoke of the different campaigns in greece in which some of them had served; of the science of war; of marlborough, eugene, and more modern captains; and i remember that they startled my feelings of classical reverence by talking of leonidas at thermopylæ and miltiades at marathon in the same tone as of napoleon at leipsic and wellington at waterloo. one of them constructed on the table, with the knives and forks and spoons, a map of marathon, and with a sheathed yataghan pointed out the position of the greeks and persians, and showed where miltiades, as a general, was wrong. they were not blinded by the dust of antiquity. they had been knocked about till all enthusiasm and all reverence for the past were shaken out of them, and they had learned to give things their right names. a french engineer showed us the skeleton of a map of greece, which was then preparing under the direction of the french geographical society, exhibiting an excess of mountains and deficiency of plain which surprised even those who had travelled over every part of the kingdom. one had just come from constantinople, where he had seen the sultan going to mosque; another had escaped from an attack of the plague in egypt; a third gave the dimensions of the temple of the sun at baalbeck; and a fourth had been at babylon, and seen the ruins of the tower of babel. in short, every man had seen something which the others had not seen, and all their knowledge was thrown into a common stock. i found myself at once among a new class of men; and i turned from him who sneered at miltiades to him who had seen the sultan, or to him who had been at bagdad, and listened with interest, somewhat qualified by consciousness of my own inferiority. i was lying in wait, however, and took advantage of an opportunity to throw in something about america; and, at the sound, all turned to me with an eagerness of curiosity that i had not anticipated. in europe, and even in england, i had often found extreme ignorance of my own country; but here i was astonished to find, among men so familiar with all parts of the old world, such total lack of information about the new. a gentleman opposite me, wearing the uniform of the king of bavaria, asked me if i had ever been in america. i told him that i was born, and, as they say in kentucky, raised there. he begged my pardon, but doubtfully _suggested_, "you are not black?" and i was obliged to explain to him that in our section of america the indian had almost entirely disappeared, and that his place was occupied by the descendants of the gaul and the briton. i was forthwith received into the fraternity, for my home was farther away than any of them had ever been; my friend opposite considered me a bijou, asked me innumerable questions, and seemed to be constantly watching for the breaking out of the cannibal spirit, as if expecting to see me bite my neighbour. at first i had felt myself rather a small affair but, before separating, _l'americain_, or _le sauvage_, or finally, _le cannibal_ found himself something of a lion. footnote: [ ] since my return home i have seen in a newspaper an account of a popular commotion at syra, in which the printing-presses and books at the missionaries were destroyed, and mr. robinson was threatened with personal violence. chapter v. ruins of athens.--hill of mars.--temple of the winds.--lantern of demosthenes.--arch of adrian.--temple of jupiter olympus.--temple of theseus.--the acropolis.--the parthenon.--pentelican mountain.--mount hymettus.--the piræus.--greek fleas.--napoli. the next morning i began my survey of the ruins of athens. it was my intention to avoid any description of these localities and monuments, because so many have preceded me, stored with all necessary knowledge, ripe in taste and sound in judgment, who have devoted to them all the time and research they so richly merit; but as, in our community, through the hurry and multiplicity of business occupations, few are able to bestow upon these things much time or attention, and, farthermore, as the books which treat of them are not accessible to all, i should be doing injustice to my readers if i were to omit them altogether. besides, i should be doing violence to my own feelings, and cannot get fairly started in athens, without recurring to scenes which i regarded at the time with extraordinary interest. i have since visited most of the principal cities in europe, existing as well as ruined and i hardly know any to which i recur with more satisfaction than athens. if the reader tire in the brief reference i shall make, he must not impute it to any want of interest in the subject; and as i am not in the habit of going into heroics, he will believe me when i say that, if he have any reverence for the men or things consecrated by the respect and admiration of ages, he will find it called out at athens. in the hope that i may be the means of inducing some of my countrymen to visit that famous city, i will add another inducement by saying that he may have, as i had, mr. hill for a cicerone. this gentleman is familiar with every locality and monument around or in the city, and, which i afterward found to be an unusual thing with those living in places consecrated in the minds of strangers, he retains for them all that freshness of feeling which we possess who only know them from books and pictures. by an arrangement made the evening before, early in the morning of my second day in athens mr. hill was at the door of my hotel to attend us. as we descended the steps a greek stopped him, and, bowing with his hand on his heart, addressed him in a tone of earnestness which we could not understand; but we were struck with the sonorous tones of his voice and the musical cadence of his sentences; and when he had finished, mr. hill told us that he had spoken in a strain which, in the original, was poetry itself, beginning, "americanos, i am a stagyrite. i come from the land of aristotle, the disciple of plato," &c., &c.; telling him the whole story of his journey from the ancient stagyra and his arrival in athens; and that, having understood that mr. hill was distributing books among his countrymen, he begged for one to take home with him. mr. hill said that this was an instance of every-day occurrence, showing the spirit of inquiry and thirst for knowledge among the modern greeks. this little scene with a countryman of aristotle was a fit prelude to our morning ramble. the house occupied by the american missionary as a school stands on the site of the ancient agora or market-place, where st. paul "disputed daily with the athenians." a few columns still remain; and near them is an inscription mentioning the price of oil. the schoolhouse is built partly from the ruins of the agora; and to us it was an interesting circumstance, that a missionary from a newly-discovered world was teaching to the modern greeks the same saving religion which, eighteen hundred years ago, st. paul, on the same spot, preached to their ancestors. winding around the foot of the acropolis, within the ancient and outside the modern wall, we came to the areopagus or hill of mars, where, in the early days of athens, her judges sat in the open air; and, for many ages, decided with such wisdom and impartiality, that to this day the decisions of the court of areopagites are regarded as models of judicial purity. we ascended this celebrated hill, and stood on the precise spot where st. paul, pointing to the temples which rose from every section of the city and towered proudly on the acropolis, made his celebrated address: "ye men of athens, i see that in all things ye are too superstitious." the ruins of the very temples to which he pointed were before our eyes. descending, and rising toward the summit of another hill, we came to the pnyx, where demosthenes, in the most stirring words that ever fell from human lips, roused his countrymen against the macedonian invader. above, on the very summit of the hill, is the old pnyx, commanding a view of the sea of salamis, and of the hill where xerxes sat to behold the great naval battle. during the reign of the thirty tyrants the pnyx was removed beneath the brow of the hill, excluding the view of the sea, that the orator might not inflame the passions of the people by directing their eyes to salamis, the scene of their naval glory. but, without this, the orator had material enough; for, when he stood on the platform facing the audience, he had before him the city which the athenians loved and the temples in which they worshipped, and i could well imagine the irresistible force of an appeal to these objects of their enthusiastic devotion, their firesides and altars. the place is admirably adapted for public speaking. the side of the hill has been worked into a gently inclined plane, semicircular in form, and supported in some places by a wall of immense stones. this plain is bounded above by the brow of the hill, cut down perpendicularly. in the centre the rock projects into a platform about eight or ten feet square, which forms the pnyx or pulpit for the orator. the ascent is by three steps cut out of the rock, and in front is a place for the scribe or clerk. we stood on this pnyx, beyond doubt on the same spot where demosthenes thundered his philippics in the ears of the athenians. on the road leading to the museum hill we entered a chamber excavated in the rock, which tradition hallows as the prison of socrates; and though the authority for this is doubtful, it is not uninteresting to enter the damp and gloomy cavern wherein, according to the belief of the modern athenians, the wisest of the greeks drew his last breath. farther to the south is the hill of philopappus, so called after a roman governor of that name. on the very summit, near the extreme angle of the old wall, and one of the most conspicuous objects around athens, is a monument erected by the roman governor in honour of the emperor trajan. the marble is covered with the names of travellers, most of whom, like philopappus himself, would never have been heard of but for that monument. descending toward the acropolis, and entering the city among streets encumbered with ruined houses, we came to the temple of the winds, a marble octagonal tower, built by andronicus. on each side is a sculptured figure, clothed in drapery adapted to the wind he represents; and on the top was formerly a triton with a rod in his hand, pointing to the figure marking the wind. the triton is gone, and great part of the temple buried under ruins. part of the interior, however, has been excavated, and probably, before long, the whole will be restored. east of the foot of the acropolis, and on the way to adrian's gate, we came to the lantern of demosthenes (i eschew its new name of the choragic monument of lysichus), where, according to an absurd tradition, the orator shut himself up to study the rhetorical art. it is considered one of the most beautiful monuments of antiquity, and the capitals are most elegant specimens of the corinthian order refined by attic taste. it is now in a mutilated condition, and its many repairs make its dilapidation more perceptible. whether demosthenes ever lived here or not, it derives an interest from the fact that lord byron made it his residence during his visit to athens. farther on, and forming part of the modern wall, is the arch of adrian, bearing on one side an inscription in greek, "this is the city of theseus;" and on the other, "but this is the city of adrian." on the arrival of otho a placard was erected, on which was inscribed, "these were the cities of theseus and adrian, but now of otho." many of the most ancient buildings in athens have totally disappeared. the turks destroyed many of them to construct the wall around the city, and even the modern greeks have not scrupled to build their miserable houses with the plunder of the temples in which their ancestors worshipped. passing under the arch of adrian, outside the gate, on the plain toward the ilissus, we came to the ruined temple of jupiter olympus, perhaps once the most magnificent in the world. it was built of the purest white marble, having a front of nearly two hundred feet, and more than three hundred and fifty in length, and contained one hundred and twenty columns, sixteen of which are all that now remain; and these, fluted and having rich corinthian capitals, tower more than sixty feet above the plain, perfect as when they were reared. i visited these ruins often, particularly in the afternoon; they are at all times mournfully beautiful, but i have seldom known anything more touching than, when the sun was setting, to walk over the marble floor, and look up at the lonely columns of this ruined temple. i cannot imagine anything more imposing than it must have been when, with its lofty roof supported by all its columns, it stood at the gate of the city, its doors wide open, inviting the greeks to worship. that such an edifice should be erected for the worship of a heathen god! on the architrave connecting three of the columns a hermit built his lonely cell, and passed his life in that elevated solitude, accessible only to the crane and the eagle. the hermit is long since dead, but his little habitation still resists the whistling of the wind, and awakens the curiosity of the wondering traveller. the temple of theseus is the last of the principal monuments, but the first which the traveller sees on entering athens. it was built after the battle of marathon, and in commemoration of the victory which drove the persians from the shores of greece. it is a small but beautiful specimen of the pure doric, built of pentelican marble, centuries of exposure to the open air giving it a yellowish tint, which softens the brilliancy of the white. three englishmen have been buried within this temple. the first time i visited it a company of greek recruits, with some negroes among them, was drawn up in front, going through the manual under the direction of a german corporal; and, at the same time, workmen were engaged in fitting it up for the coronation of king otho! [illustration: temple of jupiter olympus and acropolis at athena.] these are the principal monuments around the city, and, except the temples at pæstum, they are more worthy of admiration than all the ruins in italy; but towering above them in position, and far exceeding them in interest, are the ruins of the acropolis. i have since wandered among the ruined monuments of egypt and the desolate city of petra, but i look back with unabated reverence to the athenian acropolis. every day i had gazed at it from the balcony of my hotel, and from every part of the city and suburbs. early on my arrival i had obtained the necessary permit, paid a hurried visit, and resolved not to go again until i had examined all the other interesting objects. on the fourth day, with my friend m., i went again. we ascended by a broad road paved with stone. the summit is enclosed by a wall, of which some of the foundation stones, very large, and bearing an appearance of great antiquity, are pointed out as part of the wall built by themistocles after the battle of salamis, four hundred and eighty years before christ. the rest is venetian and turkish, falling to decay, and marring the picturesque effect of the ruins from below. the guard examined our permit, and we passed under the gate. a magnificent propylon of the finest white marble, the blocks of the largest size ever laid by human hands, and having a wing of the same material on each side, stands at the entrance. though broken and ruined, the world contains nothing like it even now. if my first impressions do not deceive me, the proudest portals of egyptian temples suffer in comparison. passing this magnificent propylon, and ascending several steps, we reached the parthenon or ruined temple of minerva; an immense white marble skeleton, the noblest monument of architectural genius which the world ever saw. standing on the steps of this temple, we had around us all that is interesting in association and all that is beautiful in art. we might well forget the capital of king otho, and go back in imagination to the golden age of athens. pericles, with the illustrious throng of grecian heroes, orators, and sages, had ascended there to worship, and cicero and the noblest of the romans had gone there to admire; and probably, if the fashion of modern tourists had existed in their days, we should see their names inscribed with their own hands on its walls. the great temple stands on the very summit of the acropolis, elevated far above the propylæa and the surrounding edifices. its length is two hundred and eight feet, and breadth one hundred and two. at each end were two rows of eight doric columns, thirty-four feet high and six feet in diameter, and on each side were thirteen more. the whole temple within and without was adorned with the most splendid works of art, by the first sculptors in greece, and phidias himself wrought the statue of the goddess, of ivory and gold, twenty-six cubits high, having on the top of her helmet a sphinx, with griffins on each of the sides; on the breast a head of medusa wrought in ivory, and a figure of victory about four cubits high, holding a spear in her hand and a shield lying at her feet. until the latter part of the seventeenth century, this magnificent temple, with all its ornaments, existed entire. during the siege of athens by the venetians, the central part was used by the turks as a magazine; and a bomb, aimed with fatal precision or by a not less fatal chance, reached the magazine, and, with a tremendous explosion, destroyed a great part of the buildings. subsequently the turks used it as a quarry, and antiquaries and travellers, foremost among whom is lord elgin, have contributed to destroy "what goth, and turk, and time had spared." around the parthenon, and covering the whole summit of the acropolis, are strewed columns and blocks of polished white marble, the ruins of ancient temples. the remains of the temples of erectheus and minerva polias are pre-eminent in beauty; the pillars of the latter are the most perfect specimens of the ionic in existence, and its light and graceful proportions are in elegant contrast with the severe and simple majesty of the parthenon. the capitals of the columns are wrought and ornamented with a delicacy surpassing anything of which i could have believed marble susceptible. once i was tempted to knock off a corner and bring it home, as a specimen of the exquisite skill of the grecian artist, which it would have illustrated better than a volume of description; but i could not do it; it seemed nothing less than sacrilege. afar off, and almost lost in the distance, rises the pentelican mountain, from the body of which were hewed the rough rude blocks which, wrought and perfected by the sculptor's art, now stand the lofty and stately columns of the ruined temple. what labour was expended upon each single column! how many were employed in hewing it from its rocky bed, in bearing it to the foot of the mountain, transporting it across the plain of attica, and raising it to the summit of the acropolis! and then what time, and skill, and labour, in reducing it from a rough block to a polished shaft, in adjusting its proportions, in carving its rich capitals, and rearing it where it now stands, a model of majestic grace and beauty! once, under the direction of mr. hill, i clambered up to the very apex of the pediment, and, lying down at full length, leaned over and saw under the frieze the acanthus leaf delicately and beautifully painted on the marble, and, being protected from exposure, still retaining its freshness of colouring. it was entirely out of sight from below, and had been discovered, almost at the peril of his life, by the enthusiasm of an english artist. the wind was whistling around me as i leaned over to examine it, and, until that moment, i never appreciated fully the immense labour employed and the exquisite finish displayed in every portion of the temple. the sentimental traveller must already mourn that athens has been selected as the capital of greece. already have speculators and the whole tribe of "improvers" invaded the glorious city; and while i was lingering on the steps of the parthenon, a german, who was quietly smoking among the ruins, a sort of superintendent whom i had met before, came up, and offering me a segar, and leaning against one of the lofty columns of the temple, opened upon me with "his plans of city improvements;" with new streets, and projected railroads, and the rise of lots. at first i almost thought it personal, and that he was making a fling at me in allusion to one of the greatest hobbies of my native city; but i soon found that he was as deeply bitten as if he had been in chicago or dunkirk; and the way in which he talked of moneyed facilities, the wants of the community, and a great french bank then contemplated at the piræus, would have been no discredit to some of my friends at home. the removal of the court has created a new era in athens; but, in my mind, it is deeply to be regretted that it has been snatched from the ruin to which it was tending. even i, deeply imbued with the utilitarian spirit of my country, and myself a quondam speculator in "up-town lots," would fain save athens from the ruthless hand of renovation; from the building mania of modern speculators. i would have her go on till there was not a habitation among her ruins; till she stood, like pompeii, alone in the wilderness, a sacred desert, where the traveller might sit down and meditate alone and undisturbed among the relics of the past. but already athens has become a heterogeneous anomaly; the greeks in their wild costume are jostled in the streets by englishmen, frenchmen, italians, dutchmen, spaniards, and bavarians, russians, danes, and sometimes americans. european shops invite purchasers by the side of eastern bazars, coffee-houses, and billiard-rooms, and french and german restaurants are opened all over the city. sir pultney malcolm has erected a house to hire near the site of plato's academy. lady franklin has bought land near the foot of mount hymettus for a country-seat. several english gentlemen have done the same. mr. richmond, an american clergyman, has purchased a farm in the neighbourhood; and in a few years, if the "march of improvement" continues, the temple of theseus will be enclosed in the garden of the palace of king otho; the temple of the winds will be concealed by a german opera-house, and the lantern of demosthenes by a row of "three-story houses." i was not a sentimental traveller, but i visited all the localities around athens, and, therefore, briefly mention that several times i jumped over the poetic and perennial ilissus, trotted my horse over the ground where aristotle walked with his peripatetics, and got muddied up to my knees in the garden of plato. one morning my scotch friend and i set out early to ascend mount hymettus. the mountain is neither high nor picturesque, but a long flat ridge of bare rock, the sides cut up into ravines, fissures, and gullies. there is an easy path to the summit, but we had no guide, and about midday, after a wild scramble, were worn out, and descended without reaching the top, which is exceedingly fortunate for the reader, as otherwise he would be obliged to go through a description of the view therefrom. returning, we met the king taking his daily walk, attended by two aids, one of whom was young marco bozzaris. otho is tall and thin, and, when i saw him, was dressed in a german military frockcoat and cap, and altogether, for a king, seemed to be an amiable young man enough. all the world speaks well of him, and so do i. we touched our hats to him, and he returned the civility; and what could he do more without inviting us to dinner? in old times there was a divinity about a king; but now, if a king is a gentleman, it is as much as we can expect. he has spent his money like a gentleman, that is, he cannot tell what has become of it. two of the three-millions loan are gone, and there is no colonization, no agricultural prosperity, no opening of roads, no security in the mountains; not a town in greece but is in ruins, and no money to improve them. athens, however, is to be embellished. with ten thousand pounds in the treasury, he is building a palace of white pentelican marble, to cost three hundred thousand pounds. otho was very popular, because, not being of age, all the errors of his administration were visited upon count armansbergh and the regency, who, from all accounts, richly deserved it; and it was hoped that, on receiving the crown, he would shake off the bavarians who were preying upon the vitals of greece, and gather around him his native-born subjects. in private life he bore a most exemplary character. he had no circle of young companions, and passed much of his time in study, being engaged, among other things, in acquiring the greek and english languages. his position is interesting, though not enviable; and if, as the first king of emancipated greece, he entertains recollections of her ancient greatness, and the ambition of restoring her to her position among the nations of the earth, he is doomed to disappointment. otho is since crowned and married. the pride of the greeks was considerably humbled by a report that their king's proposals to several daughters of german princes had been rejected; but the king had great reason to congratulate himself upon the spirit which induced the daughter of the duke of oldenburgh to accept his hand. from her childhood she had taken an enthusiastic interest in greek history, and it had been her constant wish to visit greece; and when she heard that otho had been called to the throne, she naively expressed an ardent wish to share it with him. several years afterward, by the merest accident, she met otho at a german watering-place, travelling with his mother, the queen of bavaria, as the count de missilonghi; and in february last she accompanied him to athens, to share the throne which had been the object of her youthful wish. m. dined at my hotel, and, returning to his own, he was picked up and carried to the guardhouse. he started for his hotel without a lantern, the requisition to carry one being imperative in all the greek and turkish cities; the guard could not understand a word he said until he showed them some money, which made his english perfectly intelligible; and they then carried him to a bavarian corporal, who, after two hours' detention, escorted him to his hotel. after that we were rather careful about staying out late at night. "thursday. i don't know the day of the month." i find this in my notes, the caption of a day of business, and at this distance of time will not undertake to correct the entry. indeed, i am inclined to think that my notes in those days are rather uncertain and imperfect; certainly not taken with the precision of one who expected to publish them. nevertheless, the residence of the court, the diplomatic corps, and strangers form an agreeable society at athens. i had letters to some of the foreign ministers, but did not present them, as i was hardly presentable myself without my carpet-bag. on "thursday," however, in company with dr. w., i called upon mr. dawkins, the british minister. mr. dawkins went to greece on a special mission, which he supposed would detain him six months from home, and had remained there ten years. he is a high tory, but retained under a whig administration, because his services could not well be dispensed with. he gave us much interesting information in regard to the present condition and future prospects of greece; and, in answer to my suggestion that the united states were not represented at all in greece, not even by a consul, he said, with emphasis, "you are better represented than any power in europe. mr. hill has more influence here than any minister plenipotentiary among us." a few days after, when confined to my room by indisposition, mr. dawkins returned my visit, and again spoke in the same terms of high commendation of mr. hill. it was pleasing to me, and i have no doubt it will be so to mr. hill's numerous friends in this country, to know that a private american citizen, in a position that keeps him aloof from politics, was spoken of in such terms by the representative of one of the great powers of europe. i had heard it intimated that there was a prospect of mr. dawkins being transferred to this country, and parted with him in the hope at some future day of seeing him the representative of his government here. i might have been presented to the king, but my carpet-bag--dr. w. borrowed a hat, and was presented; the doctor had an old white hat, which he had worn all the way from new-york. the tide is rolling backward; athens is borrowing her customs from the barbarous nations of the north; and it is part of the etiquette to enter a drawing-room with a hat (a black one) under the arm. the doctor, in his republican simplicity, thought that a hat, good enough to put on his own head, was good enough to go into the king's presence; but he was advised to the contrary, and took one of mr. hill's, not very much too large for him. he was presented by dr. ----, a german, the king's physician, with whom he had discoursed much of the different medical systems in germany and america. dr. w. was much pleased with the king. did ever a man talk with a king who was not pleased with him? but the doctor was particularly pleased with king otho, as the latter entered largely into discourse on the doctor's favourite theme, mr. hill's school, and the cause of education in greece. indeed, it speaks volumes in favour of the young king, that education is one of the things in which he takes the deepest interest. the day the doctor was to be presented we dined at mr. hill's, having made arrangements for leaving athens that night; the doctor and m. to return to europe. in the afternoon, while the doctor remained to be presented, m. and i walked down to the piræus, now, as in the days of her glory, the harbour of athens. the ancient harbour is about five miles from athens, and was formerly joined to it by _long walls_ built of stone of enormous size, sixty feet high, and broad enough on the top for two wagons to pass abreast. these have long since disappeared, and the road is now over a plain shaded a great part of the way by groves of olives. as usual at this time of day, we met many parties on horseback, sometimes with ladies; and i remember particularly the beautiful and accomplished daughters of count armansbergh, both of whom are since married and dead.[ ] it is a beautiful ride, in the afternoon particularly, as then the dark outline of the mountains beyond, and the reflections of light and shade, give a peculiarly interesting effect to the ruins of the acropolis. toward the other end we paced between the ruins of the old walls, and entered upon a scene which reminded me of home. eight months before there was only one house at the piræus; but, as soon as the court removed to athens, the old harbour revived; and already we saw long ranges of stores and warehouses, and all the hurry and bustle of one of our rising western towns. a railroad was in contemplation, and many other improvements, which have since failed; but an _omnibus!_ that most modern and commonplace of inventions, is now running regularly between the piræus and athens. a friend who visited greece six months after me brought home with him an advertisement printed in greek, english, french, and german, the english being in the words and figures following, to wit: "advertisement. "the public are hereby informed, that on the nineteenth instant an omnibus will commence running between athena and the piræus, and will continue to do so every day at the undermentioned hours until farther notice. _hours of departure._ from athens. from piræus. half past seven o'clock a.m. half past eight o'clock a.m. ten o'clock a.m. eleven o'clock a.m. two o'clock p.m. three o'clock p.m. half past four p.m. half past five p.m. "the price of a seat in the omnibus is one drachme. "baggage, if not too bulky and heavy, can be taken on the roof. "smoking cannot be allowed in the omnibus, nor can dogs be admitted. "small parcels and packages may be sent by this conveyance at a moderate charge, and given to the care of the conducteur. "the omnibus starts from the corner of the hermes and Æolus streets at athens and from the bazar at the piræus, and will wait five minutes at each place, during which period the conducteur will sound his horn. "athens, th, th september, ." old things are passing away, and all things are becoming new. for a little while yet we may cling to the illusions connected with the past, but the mystery is fast dissolving, the darkness is breaking away, and greece, and rome, and even egypt herself, henceforward claim our attention with objects and events of the present hour. already they have lost much of the deep and absorbing interest with which men turned to them a generation ago. all the hallowed associations of these ancient regions are fading away. we may regret it, we may mourn over it, but we cannot help it. the world is marching onward; i have met parties of my own townsmen while walking in the silent galleries of the coliseum; i have seen americans drinking champagne in an excavated dwelling of the ancient pompeii, and i have dined with englishmen among the ruins of thebes, but, blessed be my fortune, i never rode in an omnibus from the piræus to athens. we put our baggage on board the caique, and lounged among the little shops till dark, when we betook ourselves to a dirty little coffee-house filled with greeks dozing and smoking pipes. we met there a boat's crew of a french man-of-war, waiting for some of the officers, who were dining with the french ambassador at athens. one of them had been born to a better condition than that of a common sailor. one juvenile indiscretion after another had brought him down, and, without a single vice, he was fairly on the road to ruin. once he brushed a tear from his eyes as he told us of prospects blighted by his own follies; but, rousing himself, hurried away, and his reckless laugh soon rose above the noise and clamour of his wild companions. about ten o'clock the doctor came in, drenched with rain and up to his knees in mud. we wanted to embark immediately, but the appearance of the weather was so unfavourable that the captain preferred waiting till after midnight. the greeks went away from the coffee-house, the proprietor fell asleep in his seat, and we extended ourselves on the tables and chairs; and now the fleas, which had been distributed about among all the loungers, made a combined onset upon us. life has its cares and troubles, but few know that of being given up to the tender mercies of greek fleas. we bore the infliction till human nature could endure no longer; and, at about three in the morning, in the midst of violent wind and rain, broke out of the coffee-house and went in search of our boat. it was very dark, but we found her and got on board. she was a caique, having an open deck with a small covering over the stern. under this we crept, and with our cloaks and a sailcloth spread over us, our heated blood cooled, and we fell asleep. when we woke we were on the way to epidaurus. the weather was raw and cold. we passed within a stone's throw of salamis and Ægina, and at about three o'clock, turning a point which completely hid it from view, entered a beautiful little bay, on which stands the town of epidaurus. the old city, the birthplace of esculapius, stands upon a hill projecting into the bay, and almost forming an island. in the middle of the village is a wooden building containing a large chamber, where the greek delegates, a band of mountain warriors, with arms in their hands, "in the name of the greek nation, proclaimed before gods and men its independence." at the locanda there was by chance one bed, which not being large enough for three, i slept on the floor. at seven o'clock, after a quarrel with our host and paying him about half his demand, we set out for napoli di romania. for about an hour we moved in the valley running off from the beautiful shore of epidaurus; soon the valley deepened into a glen, and in an hour we turned off on a path that led into the mountains, and, riding through wild and rugged ravines, fell into the dry bed of a torrent; following which, we came to the hieron elios, or sacred grove of esculapius. this was the great watering-place for the invalids of ancient greece, the prototype of the cheltenham and saratoga of modern days. it is situated in a valley surrounded by high mountains, and was formerly enclosed by walls, within which, that the credit of the god might not be impeached, _no man was allowed to die, and no woman to be delivered_. within this enclosure were temples, porticoes and fountains, now lying in ruins hardly distinguishable. the theatre is the most beautiful and best preserved. it is scooped out of the side of the mountain, rather more than semicircular in form, and containing fifty-four seats. these seats are of pink marble, about fifteen inches high and nearly three feet wide. in the middle of each seat is a groove, in which, probably, woodwork was constructed, to prevent the feet of those above from incommoding them who sat below, and also to support the backs of an invalid audience. the theatre faces the north, and is so arranged that, with the mountain towering behind it, the audience was shaded nearly all the day. it speaks volumes in favour of the intellectual character of the greeks, that it was their favourite recreation to listen to the recitation of their poets and players. and their superiority in refinement over the romans is in no way manifested more clearly than by the fact, that in the ruined cities of the former are found the remains of theatres, and in the latter of amphitheatres, showing the barbarous taste of the romans for combats of gladiators and wild beasts. it was in beautiful keeping with this intellectual taste of the greeks, that their places of assembling were in the open air, amid scenery calculated to elevate the mind; and, as i sat on the marble steps of the theatre, i could well imagine the high satisfaction with which the greek, under the shade of the impending mountain, himself all enthusiasm and passion, rapt in the interest of some deep tragedy, would hang upon the strains of euripides or sophocles. what deep-drawn exclamations, what shouts of applause had rung through that solitude, what bursts of joy and grief had echoed from those silent benches! and then, too, what flirting and coqueting, the state of society at the springs in the grove of esculapius being probably much the same as at saratoga in our own days. the whole grove is now a scene of desolation. the lentisculus is growing between the crevices of the broken marble; birds sing undisturbed among the bushes; the timid hare steals among the ruined fragments; and sometimes the snake is seen gliding over the marble steps. we had expected to increase the interest of our visit by taking our noonday refection on the steps of the theatre, but it was too cold for a picnic _al fresco_; and, mounting our horses, about two o'clock we came in sight of argos, on the opposite side of the great plain; and in half an hour more, turning the mountain, saw napoli di romania beautifully situated on a gentle elevation on the shore of the gulf. the scenery in every direction around napoli is exceedingly beautiful; and, when we approached it, bore no marks of the sanguinary scenes of the late revolution. the plain was better cultivated than any part of the adjacent country; and the city contained long ranges of houses and streets, with german names, such as heidecker, maurer-street, &c., and was seemingly better regulated than any other city in greece. we drove up to the hotel des quatre nations, the best we had found in greece, dined at a restaurant with a crowd of bavarian officers and adventurers, and passed the evening in the streets and coffee-houses. the appearance of otho-street, which is the principal, is very respectable; it runs from what was the palace to the grand square or esplanade, on one side of which are the barracks of the bavarian soldiers, with a park of artillery posted so as to sweep the square and principal streets; a speaking comment upon the liberty of the greeks, and the confidence reposed in them by the government. everything in napoli recalls the memory of the brief and unfortunate career of capo d'istria. its recovery from the horrors of barbarian war, and the thriving appearance of the country around, are ascribed to the impulse given by his administration. a greek by birth, while his country lay groaning under the ottoman yoke he entered the russian service, distinguished himself in all the diplomatic correspondence during the french invasion, was invested with various high offices and honours, and subscribed the treaty of paris in as imperial russian plenipotentiary. he withdrew from her service because russia disapproved the efforts of his countrymen to free themselves from the turkish yoke; and, after passing five years in germany and switzerland, chiefly at geneva, in he was called to the presidency of greece. on his arrival at napoli amid the miseries of war and anarchy, he was received by the whole people as the only man capable of saving their country. civil war ceased on the very day of his arrival, and the traitor grievas placed in his hands the key of the palimethe. i shall not enter into any speculations upon the character of his administration. the rank he had attained in a foreign service is conclusive evidence of his talents, and his withdrawal from that service for the reason stated is as conclusive of his patriotism; but from the moment he took into his hands the reins of government, he was assailed by every so-called liberal press in europe with the party cry of russian influence. the greeks were induced to believe that he intended to sell them to a stranger; and capo d'istria, strong in his own integrity, and confidently relying on the fidelity and gratitude of his countrymen, was assassinated in the streets on his way to mass. young mauromichalis, the son of the old bey of maina, struck the fatal blow, and fled for refuge to the house of the french ambassador. a gentleman attached to the french legation told me that he himself opened the door when the murderer rushed in with the bloody dagger in his hand, exclaiming, "i have killed the tyrant." he was not more than twenty-one, tall and noble in his appearance, and animated by the enthusiastic belief that he had delivered his country. my informant told me that he barred all the doors and windows, and went up stairs to inform the minister, who had not yet risen. the latter was embarrassed and in doubt what he should do. a large crowd gathered round the house; but, as yet, they were all mauromichalis's friends. the young enthusiast spoke of what he had done with a high feeling of patriotism and pride; and while the clamour out of doors was becoming outrageous, he ate his breakfast and smoked his pipe with the utmost composure. he remained at the embassy more than two hours, and until the regular troops drew up before the house. the french ambassador, though he at first refused, was obliged to deliver him up; and my informant saw him shot under a tree outside the gate of napoli, dying gallantly in the firm conviction that he had played the brutus and freed his country from a cæsar. the fate of capo d'istria again darkened the prospects of greece, and the throne went begging for an occupant until it was accepted by the king of bavaria for his second son otho. the young monarch arrived at napoli in february, eighteen hundred and thirty-three. the whole population came out to meet him, and the grecian youth ran breast deep in the water to touch his barge as it approached the shore. in february, eighteen hundred and thirty-four, it was decided to establish athens as the capital. the propriety of this removal has been seriously questioned, for napoli possessed advantages in her location, harbour, fortress and a town already built; but the king of bavaria, a scholar and an antiquary, was influenced more, perhaps, by classical feeling than by regard for the best interests of greece. napoli has received a severe blow from the removal of the seat of government; still it was by far the most european in its appearance of any city i had seen in greece. it had several restaurants and coffee-houses, which were thronged all the evening with bavarian officers and broken-down european adventurers, discussing the internal affairs of that unfortunate country, which men of every nation seemed to think they had a right to assist in governing. napoli had always been the great gathering-place of the phil-hellenists, and many appropriating to themselves that sacred name were hanging round it still. all over europe thousands of men are trained up to be shot at for so much per day; the soldier's is as regular a business as that of the lawyer or merchant, and there is always a large class of turbulent spirits constantly on the look-out for opportunities, and ever ready with their swords to carve their way to fortune. i believe that there were men who embarked in the cause of greece with as high and noble purposes as ever animated the warrior; but of many, there is no lack of charity in saying that, however good they might be as fighters, they were not much as men; and i am sorry to add that, from the accounts i heard in greece, some of the american phil-hellenists were rather shabby fellows. mr. m., then resident in napoli, was accosted one day in the streets by a young man, who asked him where he could find general jarvis. "what do you want with him?" said mr. m. "i hope to obtain a commission in his army." "do you see that dirty fellow yonder?" said mr. m., pointing to a ragged patriot passing at the moment; "well, twenty such fellows compose jarvis's army, and jarvis himself is no better off." "well, then," said the young _american_, "i believe i'll join the turks!" allen, another american patriot, was hung at constantinople. one bore the sacred name of washington; a brave but unprincipled man. mr. m. had heard him say, that if the devil himself should raise a regiment and would give him a good commission, he would willingly march under him. he was struck by a shot from the fortress of napoli while directing a battery against it; was taken on board his britannic majesty's ship asia, and breathed his last uttering curses on his country. there were others, however, who redeemed the american character. the agents sent out by the greek committee (among them our townsmen, messrs. post and stuyvesant), under circumstances of extraordinary difficulty fulfilled the charitable purposes of their mission with such zeal and discretion as to relieve the wants of a famishing people, and secure the undying gratitude of the greeks. dr. russ, another of the agents, established an american hospital at poros, and, under the most severe privations, devoted himself gratuitously to attendance upon the sick and wounded. dr. howe, one of the earliest american phil-hellenists, in the darkest hour of the revolution, and at a time when the greeks were entirely destitute of all medical aid, with an honourable enthusiasm, and without any hope of pecuniary reward, entered the service as surgeon, was the fellow-labourer of dr. russ in establishing the american hospital, and, at the peril of his life, remained with them during almost the whole of their dreadful struggle. colonel miller, the principal agent, now resident in vermont, besides faithfully performing the duties of his trust, entered the army, and conducted himself with such distinguished gallantry that he was called by the greek braves the american delhi, or daredevil.[ ] footnotes: [ ] they married two brothers, the young princes cantacuzenes. some scruples being raised against this double alliance on the score of consanguinity, the difficulty was removed by each couple going to separate churches with separate priests to pronounce the mystic words at precisely the same moment; so that neither could be said to espouse his sister-in-law. [ ] in the previous editions of his work, the author's remarks were so general as to reflect upon the character of individuals who stand in our community above reproach. the author regrets that the carelessness of his expressions should have wounded where he never intended, and hopes the gentlemen affected will do him the justice to believe that he would not wantonly injure any man's character or feelings. chapter vi. argos.--tomb of agamemnon.--mycenæ.--gate of the lions.--a misfortune.--a midnight quarrel.--gratitude of a greek family.--megara. in the morning, finding a difficulty in procuring horses, some of the loungers about the hotel told us there was a carriage in napoli, and we ordered it to be brought out, and soon after saw moving majestically down the principal street a bella carozza, imported by its enterprising proprietor from the strada toledo at naples. it was painted a bright flaring yellow, and had a big breeched albanian for coachman. while preparing to embark, a greek came up with two horses, and we discharged the bella carozza. my companion hired the horses for padras, and i threw my cloak on one of them and followed on foot. the plain of argos is one of the most beautiful i ever saw. on every side except toward the sea it is bounded by mountains, and the contrast between these mountains, the plain, and the sea is strikingly beautiful. the sun was beating upon it with intense heat; the labourers were almost naked, or in several places lying asleep on the ground, while the tops of the mountains were covered with snow. i walked across the whole plain, being only six miles, to argos. this ancient city is long since in ruins; her thirty temples, her costly sepulchres, her gymnasium, and her numerous and magnificent monuments and statues have disappeared, and the only traces of her former greatness are some remains of her cyclopean walls, and a ruined theatre cut in the rock and of magnificent proportions. modern argos is nothing more than a straggling village. mr. riggs, an american missionary, was stationed there, but was at that time at athens with an invalid wife. i was still on foot, and wandered up and down the principal street looking for a horse. every greek in argos soon knew my business, and all kinds of four-legged animals were brought to me at exorbitant prices. when i was poring over the iliad i little thought that i should ever visit argos; still less that i should create a sensation in the ancient city of the danai; but man little knows for what he is reserved. argos has been so often visited that homer is out of date. every middy from a mediterranean cruiser has danced on the steps of her desolate theatre, and, instead of busying myself with her ancient glories, i roused half the population in hiring a horse. in fact, in this ancient city i soon became the centre of a regular horsemarket. every rascally jockey swore that his horse was the best, and, according to the descendants of the respectable sons of atreus, blindness, lameness, spavin, and staggers were a recommendation. a bavarian officer, whom i had met in the bazars, came to my assistance, and stood by me while i made my bargain. i had more regard to the guide than the horse; and picking out one who had been particularly noisy, hired him to conduct me to corinth and athens. he was a lad of about twenty, with a bright sparkling eye, who, laughing roguishly at his unsuccessful competitors, wanted to pitch me at once on the horse and be off. i joined my companions, and in a few minutes we left argos. the plain of argos has been immortalized by poetic genius as the great gathering-place of the kings and armies that assembled for the siege of troy. to the scholar and poet few plains in the world are more interesting. it carries him back to the heroic ages, to the history of times bordering on the fabulous, when fact and fiction are so beautifully blended that we would not separate them if we could. i had but a little while longer to remain with my friends, for we were approaching the point where our roads separated, and about eleven o'clock we halted and exchanged our farewell greetings. we parted in the middle of the plain, they to return to padras and europe, and i for the tomb of agamemnon, and back to athens, and i hardly know where besides. dr. w. i did not meet again until my return home. about a year afterward i arrived in antwerp in the evening from rotterdam. the city was filled with strangers, and i was denied admission at a third hotel, when a young man brushed by me in the doorway, and i recognised maxwell. i hailed him, but in cap and cloak, and with a large red shawl around my neck, he did not know me. i unrolled and discovered myself, and it is needless to say that i did not leave the hotel that night. it was his very last day of two years' travel on the continent; he had taken his passage in the steamer for london, and one day later i should have missed him altogether. i can give but a faint idea of the pleasure of this meeting. he gave me the first information of the whereabout of dr. w.; we talked nearly all night, and about noon the next day i again bade him farewell on board the steamer. i have for some time neglected our servant. when we separated, the question was who should _not_ keep him. we were all heartily tired of him, and i would not have had him with me on any account. still, at the moment of parting in that wild and distant region, never expecting to see him again, i felt some slight leaning toward him. touching the matter of shirts, it will not be surprising to a man of the world that, at the moment of parting, i had one of m.'s on my back; and, in justice to him, i must say it was a very good one, and lasted a long time. a friend once wrote to me on a like occasion not to wear his out of its turn, but m. laid no such restriction upon me. but this trifling gain did not indemnify me for the loss of my friends. i had broken the only link that connected me with home, and was setting out alone for i knew not where. i felt at once the great loss i had sustained, for my young muleteer could speak only his own language, and, as queen elizabeth said to sir walter raleigh of her hebrew, we had "forgotten our" greek. but on that classical soil i ought not to have been lonely. i should have conjured up the ghosts of the departed atridæ, and held converse on their own ground with homer's heroes. nevertheless, i was not in the mood; and, entirely forgetting the glories of the past, i started my horse into a gallop. my companion followed on a full run, close at my heels, belabouring my horse with a stick, which when he broke, he pelted him with stones; indeed, this mode of scampering over the ground seemed to hit his humour, for he shouted, hurraed, and whipped, and sometimes laying hold of the tail of the beast, was dragged along several paces with little effort of his own. i soon tired of this, and made signs to him to stop; but it was his turn now, and i was obliged to lean back till i reached him with my cane before i could make him let go his hold, and then he commenced shouting and pelting again with stones. in this way we approached the village of krabata, about a mile below the ruins of mycenæ, and the most miserable place i had seen in greece. with the fertile plain of argos uncultivated before them, the inhabitants exhibited a melancholy picture of the most abject poverty. as i rode through, crowds beset me with outstretched arms imploring charity; and a miserable old woman, darting out of a wretched hovel, laid her gaunt and bony hand upon my leg, and attempted to stop me. i shrunk from her grasp, and, under the effect of a sudden impulse, threw myself off on the other side, and left my horse in her hands. hurrying through the village, a group of boys ran before me, crying out "agamemnon," "agamemnon." i followed, and they conducted me to the tomb of "the king of kings," a gigantic structure, still in good preservation, of a conical form, covered with turf; the stone over the door is twenty-seven feet long and seventeen wide, larger than any hewn stone in the world except pompey's pillar. i entered, my young guides going before with torches, and walked within and around this ancient sepulchre. a worthy dutchman, herman van creutzer, has broached a theory that the trojan war is a mere allegory, and that no such person as agamemnon ever existed. shame upon the cold-blooded heretic. i have my own sins to answer for in that way, for i have laid my destroying hand upon many cherished illusions; but i would not, if i could, destroy the mystery that overhangs the heroic ages. the royal sepulchre was forsaken and empty; the shepherd drives within it his flock for shelter; the traveller sits under its shade to his noonday meal; and, at the moment, a goat was dozing quietly in one corner. he started as i entered, and seemed to regard me as an intruder; and when i flared before him the light of my torch, he rose up to butt me. i turned away and left him in quiet possession. the boys were waiting outside, and crying "mycenæ," "mycenæ," led me away. all was solitude, and i saw no marks of a city until i reached the relics of her cyclopean walls. i never felt a greater degree of reverence than when i approached the lonely ruins of mycenæ. at argos i spent most of my time in the horsemarket, and i had galloped over the great plain as carelessly as if it had been the road to harlem; but all the associations connected with this most interesting ground here pressed upon me at once. its extraordinary antiquity, its gigantic remains, and its utter and long-continued desolation, came home to my heart. i moved on to the gate of the lions, and stood before it a long time without entering. a broad street led to it between two immense parallel walls; and this street may, perhaps, have been a market-place. over the gate are two lions rampant, like the supporters of a modern coat-of-arms, rudely carved, and supposed to be the oldest sculptured stone in greece. under this very gate agamemnon led out his forces for the siege of troy; three thousand years ago he saw them filing before him, glittering in brass, in all the pomp and panoply of war; and i held in my hand a book which told me that this city was so old that, more than seventeen hundred years ago, travellers came as i did to visit its ruins; and that pausanias had found the gate of the lions in the same state in which i beheld it now. a great part is buried by the rubbish of the fallen city. i crawled under, and found myself within the walls, and then mounted to the height on which the city stood. it was covered with a thick soil and a rich carpet of grass. my boys left me, and i was alone. i walked all over it, following the line of the walls. i paused at the great blocks of stone, the remnants of cyclopic masonry, the work of wandering giants. the heavens were unclouded, and the sun was beaming upon it with genial warmth. nothing could exceed the quiet beauty of the scene. i became entangled in the long grass, and picked up wild flowers growing over long-buried dwellings. under it are immense caverns, their uses now unknown; and the earth sounded hollow under my feet, as if i were treading on the sepulchre of a buried city. i looked across the plain to argos; all was as beautiful as when homer sang its praises; the plain, and the mountains, and the sea were the same, but the once magnificent city, her numerous statues and gigantic temples, were gone for ever; and but a few remains were left to tell the passing traveller the story of her fallen greatness. i could have remained there for hours; i could have gone again and again, for i had not found a more interesting spot in greece; but my reveries were disturbed by the appearance of my muleteer and my juvenile escort. they pointed to the sun as an intimation that the day was passing; and crying "cavallo," "cavallo," hurried me away. to them the ruined city was a playground; they followed capering behind; and, in descending, three or four of them rolled down upon me; they hurried me through the gate of the lions, and i came out with my pantaloons, my only pantaloons, rent across the knee almost irreparably. in an instant i was another man; i railed at the ruins for their strain upon wearing apparel, and bemoaned my unhappy lot in not having with me a needle and thread. i looked up to the old gate with a sneer. this was the city that homer had made such a noise about; a man could stand on the citadel and almost throw a stone beyond the boundary-line of agamemnon's kingdom. in full sight, and just at the other side of the plain, was the kingdom of argos. the little state of rhode island would make a bigger kingdom than both of them together. but i had no time for deep meditation, having a long journey to corinth before me. fortunately, my young greek had no tire in him; he started me off on a gallop, whipping and pelting my horse with stones, and would have hurried me on, over rough and smooth, till either he, or i, or the horse broke down, if i had not jumped off and walked. as soon as i dismounted he mounted, and then he moved so leisurely that i had to hurry him on in turn. in this way we approached the range of mountains separating the plain of argos from the isthmus of corinth. entering the pass, we rode along a mountain torrent, of which the channel-bed was then dry, and ascended to the summit of the first range. looking back, the scene was magnificent. on my right and left were the ruined heights of argos and mycenæ; before me, the towering acropolis of napoli di romania; at my feet, the rich plain of argos, extending to the shore of the sea; and beyond, the island-studded Ægean. i turned away with a feeling of regret that, in all probability, i should never see it more. i moved on, and in a narrow pass, not wide enough to turn my horse if i had been disposed to take to my heels, three men rose up from behind a rock, armed to the teeth with long guns, pistols, yataghans, and sheepskin cloaks--the dress of the klept or mountain robber--and altogether presenting a most diabolically cutthroat appearance. if they had asked me for my purse i should have considered it all regular, and given up the remnant of my stock of borrowed money without a murmur; but i was relieved from immediate apprehension by the cry of passe porta. king otho has begun the benefits of civilized government in greece by introducing passports, and mountain warriors were stationed in the different passes to examine strangers. they acted, however, as if they were more used to demanding purses than passports, for they sprang into the road and rattled the butts of their guns on the rock with a violence that was somewhat startling. unluckily, my passport had been made out with those of my companions, and was in their possession, and when we parted neither thought of it; and this demand to me, who had nothing to lose, was worse than that of my purse. a few words of explanation might have relieved me from all difficulty, but my friends could not understand a word i said. i was vexed at the idea of being sent back, and thought i would try the effect of a little impudence; so, crying out "americanos," i attempted to pass on; but they answered me "nix," and turned my horse's head toward argos. the scene, which a few moments before had seemed so beautiful, was now perfectly detestable. finding that bravado had not the desired effect, i lowered my tone and tried a bribe; this was touching the right chord; half a dollar removed all suspicions from the minds of these trusty guardians of the pass; and, released from their attentions, i hurried on. the whole road across the mountain is one of the wildest in greece. it is cut up by numerous ravines, sufficiently deep and dangerous, which at every step threaten destruction to the incautious traveller. during the late revolution the soil of greece had been drenched with blood; and my whole journey had been through cities and over battle-fields memorable for scenes of slaughter unparalleled in the annals of modern war. in the narrowest pass of the mountains my guide made gestures indicating that it had been the scene of a desperate battle. when the turks, having penetrated to the plain of argos, were compelled to fall back again upon corinth, a small band of greeks, under niketas and demetrius ypsilanti, waylaid them in this pass. concealing themselves behind the rocks, and waiting till the pass was filled, all at once they opened a tremendous fire upon the solid column below, and the pass was instantly filled with slain. six thousand were cut down in a few hours. the terrified survivers recoiled for a moment; but, as if impelled by an invisible power, rushed on to meet their fate. "the mussulman rode into the passes with his sabre in his sheath and his hands before his eyes, the victim of destiny." the greeks again poured upon them a shower of lead, and several thousand more were cut down before the moslem army accomplished the passage of this terrible defile. it was nearly dark when we rose to the summit of the last range of mountains, and saw, under the rich lustre of the setting sun, the acropolis of corinth, with its walls and turrets, towering to the sky, the plain forming the isthmus of corinth; the dark, quiet waters of the gulf of lepanto; and the gloomy mountains of cithæron, and helicon, and parnassus covered with snow. it was after dark when we passed the region of the nemean grove, celebrated as the haunt of the lion and the scene of the first of the twelve labours of hercules. we were yet three hours from corinth; and, if the old lion had still been prowling in the grove, we could not have made more haste to escape its gloomy solitude. reaching the plain, we heard behind us the clattering of horses' hoofs, at first sounding in the stillness of evening as if a regiment of cavalry or a troop of banditti was at our heels, but it proved to be only a single traveller, belated like ourselves, and hurrying on to corinth. i could see through the darkness the shining butts of his pistols and hilt of his yataghan, and took his dimensions with more anxiety, perhaps, than exactitude. he recognised my frank dress; and accosted me in bad italian, which he had picked up at padras (being just the italian in which i could meet him on equal ground), and told me that he had met a party of franks on the road to padras, whom, from his description, i recognised as my friends. it was nearly midnight when we rattled up to the gate of the old locanda. the yard was thronged with horses and baggage, and greek and bavarian soldiers. on the balcony stood my old brigand host, completely crestfallen, and literally turned out of doors in his own house; a detachment of bavarian soldiers had arrived that afternoon from padras, and taken entire possession, giving him and his wife the freedom of the outside. he did not recognise me, and, taking me for an englishman, began, "sono inglesi signor" (he had lived at corfu under the british dominion); and, telling me the whole particulars of his unceremonious ouster, claimed, through me, the arm of the british government to resent the injury to a british subject; his wife was walking about in no very gentle mood, but, in truth, very much the contrary. i did not speak to her, and she did not trust herself to speak to me; but, addressing myself to the husband, introduced the subject of my own immediate wants, a supper and night's lodging. the landlord told me, however, that the bavarians had eaten everything in the house, and he had not a room, bed, blanket, or coverlet to give me; that i might lie down in the hall or the piazza, but there was no other place. i was outrageous at the hard treatment he had received from the bavarians. it was too bad to turn an honest innkeeper out of his house, and deny him the pleasure of accommodating a traveller who had toiled hard all day, with the perfect assurance of finding a bed at night. i saw, however, that there was no help for it; and noticing an opening at one end of the hall, went into a sort of storeroom filled with all kinds of rubbish, particularly old barrels. an unhinged door was leaning against the wall, and this i laid across two of the barrels, pulled off my coat and waistcoat, and on this extemporaneous couch went to sleep. i was roused from my first nap by a terrible fall against my door. i sprang up; the moon was shining through the broken casement, and, seizing a billet of wood, i waited another attack. in the mean time i heard the noise of a violent scuffling on the floor of the hall, and, high above all, the voices of husband and wife, his evidently coming from the floor in a deprecating tone, and hers in a high towering passion, and enforced with severe blows of a stick. as soon as i was fairly awake i saw through the thing at once. it was only a little matrimonial _tête-à-tête_. the unamiable humour in which i had left them against the bavarians had ripened into a private quarrel between themselves, and she had got him down, and was pummelling him with a broomstick or something of that kind. it seemed natural and right enough, and was, moreover, no business of mine; and remembering that whoever interferes between man and wife is sure to have both against him, i kept quiet. others, however, were not so considerate, and the occupants of the different rooms tumbled into the hall in every variety of fancy night-gear, among whom was one whose only clothing was a military coat and cap, with a sword in his hand. when the hubbub was at its highest i looked out, and found, as i expected, the husband and wife standing side by side, she still brandishing the stick, and both apparently outrageous at everything and everybody around them. i congratulated myself upon my superior knowledge of human nature, and went back to my bed on the door. in the morning i was greatly surprised to find that, instead of whipping her husband, she had been taking his part. two german soldiers, already half intoxicated, had come into the hall, and insisted upon having more wine; the host refused, and when they moved toward my sleeping place, where the wine was kept, he interposed, and all came down together with the noise which had woke me. his wife came to his aid, and the blows which, in my simplicity, i had supposed to be falling upon him, were bestowed on the two bavarians. she told me the story herself; and when she complained to the officers, they had capped the climax of her passion by telling her that her husband deserved more than he got. she was still in a perfect fury; and as she looked at them in the yard arranging for their departure, she added, in broken english, with deep and, as i thought, ominous passion, "'twas better to be under the turks." i learned all this while i was making my toilet on the piazza, that is, while she was pouring water on my hands for me to wash; and, just as i had finished, my eye fell upon my muleteer assisting the soldiers in loading their horses. at first i did not notice the subdued expression of his usually bright face, nor that he was loading my horse with some of their camp equipage; but all at once it struck me that they were pressing him into their service. i was already roused by what the woman had told me, and, resolving that they should not serve me as they did the greeks, i sprang off the piazza, cleared my way through the crowd, and going up to my horse, already staggering under a burden poised on his back, but not yet fastened, put my hand under one side and tumbled it over with a crash on the other. the soldiers cried out furiously; and, while they were sputtering german at me, i sprang into the saddle. i was in admirable pugilistic condition, with nothing on but pantaloons, boots, and shirt, and just in a humour to get a whipping, if nothing worse; but i detested the manner in which the bavarians lorded it in greece; and riding up to a group of officers who were staring at me, told them that i had just tumbled their luggage off my horse, and they must bear in mind that they could not deal with strangers quite so arbitrarily as they did with the greeks. the commandant was disposed to be indignant and very magnificent; but some of the others making suggestions to him, he said he understood i had only hired my horse as far as corinth; but, if i had taken him for athens, he would not interfere; and, apologizing on the ground of the necessities of government, ordered him to be released. i apologized back again, returned the horse to my guide, whose eyes sparkled with pleasure, and went in for my hat and coat. i dressed myself, and, telling him to be ready when i had finished my breakfast, went out expecting to start forthwith; but, to my surprise, my host told me that the lad refused to go any farther without an increase of pay; and, sure enough, there he stood, making no preparation for moving. the cavalcade of soldiers had gone, and taken with them every horse in corinth, and the young rascal intended to take advantage of my necessity. i told him that i had hired him to athens for such a price, and that i had saved him from impressment, and consequent loss of wages, by the soldiers, which he admitted. i added that he was a young rascal, which he neither admitted nor denied, but answered with a roguish laugh. the extra price was no object compared with the vexation of a day's detention; but a traveller is apt to think that all the world is conspiring to impose upon him, and, at times, to be very resolute in resisting. i was peculiarly so then, and, after a few words, set off to complain to the head of the police. without any ado he trotted along with me, and we proceeded together, followed by a troup of idlers, i in something of a passion, he perfectly cool, good-natured, and considerate, merely keeping out of the way of my stick. hurrying along near the columns of the old temple, i stumbled, and he sprang forward to assist me, his face expressing great interest, and a fear that i had hurt myself; and when i walked toward a house which i had mistaken for the bureau of the police department, he ran after me to direct me right. all this mollified me considerably; and, before we reached the door, the affair began to strike me as rather ludicrous. i stated my case, however, to the eparchos, a greek in frank dress, who spoke french with great facility, and treated me with the greatest consideration. he was so full of professions that i felt quite sure of a decision in my favour; but, assuming my story to be true, and without asking the lad for his excuse, he shrugged his shoulders, and said it would take time to examine the matter, and, if i was in a hurry, i had better submit. to be sure, he said, the fellow was a great rogue, and he gave his countrymen in general a character that would not tell well in print; but added, in their justification, that they were imposed upon and oppressed by everybody, and therefore considered that they had a right to take their advantage whenever an opportunity offered. the young man sat down on the floor, and looked at me with the most frank, honest, and open expression, as if perfectly unconscious that he was doing anything wrong. i could not but acknowledge that some excuse for him was to be drawn from the nature of the school in which he had been brought up, and, after a little parley, agreed to pay him the additional price, if, at the end of the journey, i was satisfied with his conduct. this was enough; his face brightened, he sprang up and took my hand, and we left the house the best friends in the world. he seemed to be hurt as well as surprised at my finding fault with him, for to him all seemed perfectly natural; and, to seal the reconciliation, he hurried on ahead, and had the horse ready when i reached the locanda. i took leave of my host with a better feeling than before, and set out a second time on the road to athens. at kalamaki, while walking along the shore, a greek who spoke the lingua franca came from on board one of the little caiques, and, when he learned that i was an american, described to me the scene that had taken place on that beach upon the arrival of provisions from america; when thousands of miserable beings who had fled from the blaze of their dwellings, and lived for months upon plants and roots; grayheaded men, mothers with infants at their breasts, emaciated with hunger and almost frantic with despair, came down from their mountain retreats to receive the welcome relief. he might well remember the scene, for he had been one of that starving people; and he took me to his house, and showed me his wife and four children, now nearly all grown, telling me that they had all been rescued from death by the generosity of my countrymen. i do not know why, but in those countries it did not seem unmanly for a bearded and whiskered man to weep; i felt anything but contempt for him when, with his heart overflowing and his eyes filled with tears, he told me, when i returned home, to say to my countrymen that i had seen and talked with a recipient of their bounty; and though the greeks might never repay us, they could never forget what we had done for them. i remembered the excitement in our country in their behalf, in colleges and schools, from the graybearded senator to the prattling schoolboy, and reflected that, perhaps, my mite, cast carelessly upon the waters, had saved from the extremity of misery this grateful family. i wish that the cold-blooded prudence which would have checked our honest enthusiasm in favour of a people, under calamities and horrors worse than ever fell to the lot of man struggling to be free, could have listened to the gratitude of this greek family. with deep interest i bade them farewell, and, telling my guide to follow with my horse, walked over to the foot of the mountain. ascending, i saw in one of the openings of the road a packhorse and a soldier in the bavarian uniform, and, hoping to find some one to talk with, i hailed him. he was on the top of the mountain, so far off that he did not hear me; and when, with the help of my greek, i had succeeded in gaining his attention, he looked for some time without being able to see me. when he did, however, he waited; but, to my no small disappointment, he answered my first question with the odious "nix." we tried each other in two or three dialects; but, finding it of no use, i sat down to rest, and he, for courtesy, joined me; my young greek, in the spirit of good-fellowship, doing the same. he was a tall, noble-looking fellow, and, like myself, a stranger in greece; and, though we could not say so, it was understood that we were glad to meet and travel together as comrades. the tongue causes more evils than the sword; and, as we were debarred the use of this mischievous member, and walked all day side by side, seldom three paces apart, before night we were sworn friends. about five o'clock in the afternoon we arrived at megara. a group of bavarian soldiers was lounging round the door of the khan, who welcomed their expected comrade and me as his companion. my friend left me, and soon returned with the compliments of the commandant, and an invitation to visit him in the evening. i had, however, accepted a prior invitation from the soldiers for a rendezvous in the locanda. i wandered till dark among the ruined houses of the town, thought of euclid and alexander the great, and returning, went up to the same room in which i had slept with my friends, pored over an old map of greece hanging on the wall, made a few notes, and throwing myself back on a sort of divan, while thinking what i should do fell asleep. about ten o'clock i was roused by the loud roar of a chorus, not like a sudden burst, but a thing that seemed to have swelled up to that point by degrees; and rubbing my eyes, and stumbling down stairs, i entered the banqueting hall; a long, rough wooden table extended the whole length of the room, supplied with only two articles, wine-flagons and tobacco-pouches; forty or fifty soldiers were sitting round it, smoking pipes and singing with all their souls, and, at the moment i entered, waving their pipes to the dying cadence of a hunting chorus. then followed a long thump on the table, and they all rose; my long travelling friend, with a young soldier who spoke a little french, came up, and, escorting me to the head of the table, gave me a seat by the side of the chairman. one of them attempted to administer a cup of wine, and the other thrust at me the end of a pipe, and i should have been obliged to kick and abscond but for the relief afforded me by the entrance of another new-comer. this was no other than the corporal's wife; and if i had been received warmly, she was greeted with enthusiasm. half the table sprang forward to escort her, two of them collared the president and hauled him off his seat, and the whole company, by acclamation, installed her in his place. she accepted it without any hesitation, while two of them, with clumsy courtesy, took off her bonnet, which i, sitting at her right hand, took charge of. all then resumed their places, and the revel went on more gayly than ever. the lady president was about thirty, plainly but neatly dressed, and, though not handsome, had a frank, amiable, and good-tempered expression, indicating that greatest of woman's attributes, a good heart. in fact, she looked what the young man at my side told me she was, the peacemaker of the regiment; and he added, that they always tried to have her at their convivial meetings, for when she was among them the brawling spirits were kept down, and every man would be ashamed to quarrel in her presence. there was no chivalry, no heroic devotion about them, but their manner toward her was as speaking a tribute as was ever paid to the influence of woman; and i question whether beauty in her bower, surrounded by belted knights and barons bold, ever exercised in her more exalted sphere a more happy influence. i talked with her, and with the utmost simplicity she told me that the soldiers all loved her; that they were all kind to her, and she looked upon them all as brothers. we broke up at about twelve o'clock with a song, requiring each person to take the hand of his neighbour; one of her hands fell to me, and i took it with a respect seldom surpassed in touching the hand of woman; for i felt that she was cheering the rough path of a soldier's life, and, among scenes calculated to harden the heart, reminding them of mothers, and sisters, and sweethearts at home. chapter vii. a dreary funeral.--marathon.--mount pentelicus.--a mystery.--woes of a lover.--reveries of glory.--scio's rocky isle.--a blood-stained page of history.--a greek prelate.--desolation.--the exile's return. early in the morning i again started. in a little khan at eleusis i saw three or four bavarian soldiers drinking, and ridiculing the greek proprietor, calling him patrioti and capitani. the greek bore their gibes and sneers without a word; but there was a deadly expression in his look, which seemed to say, "i bide my time;" and i remember then thinking that the bavarians were running up an account which would one day be settled with blood. in fact, the soldiers went too far; and, as i thought, to show off before me, one of them slapped the greek on the back, and made him spill a measure of wine which he was carrying to a customer, when the latter turned upon him like lightning, threw him down, and would have strangled him if he had not been pulled off by the by-standers. indeed, the greeks had already learned both their intellectual and physical superiority over the bavarians; and, a short time before, a party of soldiers sent to subdue a band of maniote insurgents had been captured, and, after a farce of selling them at auction at a dollar a head, were kicked, and whipped, and sent off. about four o'clock i arrived once more at athens, dined at my old hotel, and passed the evening at mr. hill's. the next day i lounged about the city. i had been more than a month without my carpet-bag, and the way in which i managed during that time is a thing between my travelling companions and myself. a prudent scotchman used to boast of a careful nephew, who, in travelling, instead of leaving some of his clothes at every hotel on the road, always brought home _more_ than he took away with him. i was a model of this kind of carefulness while my opportunities lasted; but my companions had left me, and this morning i went to the bazars and bought a couple of shirts. dressed up in one of them, i strolled outside the walls; and, while sitting in the shadow of a column of the temple of jupiter, i saw coming from the city, through hadrian's gate, four men, carrying a burden by the corners of a coverlet, followed by another having in his hands a bottle and spade. as they approached i saw they were bearing the dead body of a woman, whom, on joining them, i found to be the wife of the man who followed. he was an englishman or an american (for he called himself either, as occasion required) whom i had seen at my hotel and at mr. hill's; had been a sailor, and probably deserted from his ship, and many years a resident of athens, where he married a greek woman. he was a thriftless fellow, and, as he told me, had lived principally by the labour of his wife, who washed for european travellers. he had been so long in greece, and his connexions and associations were so thoroughly greek, that he had lost that sacredness of feeling so powerful both in englishmen and americans of every class in regard to the decent burial of the dead, though he did say that he had expected to procure a coffin, but the police of the city had sent officers to take her away and bury her. there was something so forlorn in the appearance of this rude funeral, that my first impulse was to turn away; but i checked myself and followed. several times the greeks laid the corpse on the ground and stopped to rest, chattering indifferently on various subjects. we crossed the ilissus, and at some distance came to a little greek chapel excavated in the rock. the door was so low that we were obliged to stoop on entering, and when within we could hardly stand upright. the greeks laid down the body in front of the altar; the husband went for the priest, the greeks to select a place for a grave, and i remained alone with the dead. i sat in the doorway, looking inside upon the corpse, and out upon the greeks digging the grave. in a short time the husband returned with a priest, one of the most miserable of that class of "blind teachers" who swarm in greece. he immediately commenced the funeral service, which continued nearly an hour, by which time the greeks returned and, taking up the body, carried it to the graveside and laid it within. i knew the hollow sound of the first clod of earth which falls upon the lid of a coffin, and shrunk from its leaden fall upon the uncovered body. i turned away, and, when at some distance, looked back and saw them packing the earth over the grave. i never saw so dreary a burial-scene. returning, i passed by the ancient stadium of herodes atticus, once capable of containing twenty-five thousand spectators; the whole structure was covered with the purest white marble. all remains of its magnificence are now gone; but i could still trace on the excavated side of the hill its ancient form of a horseshoe, and walked through the subterraneous passage by which the vanquished in the games retreated from the presence of the spectators. returning to the city, i learned that an affray had just taken place between some greeks and bavarians, and, hurrying to the place near the bazars, found a crowd gathered round a soldier who had been stabbed by a greek. according to the greeks, the affair had been caused by the habitual insults and provocation given by the bavarians, the soldier having wantonly knocked a drinking-cup out of the greek's hand while he was drinking. in the crowd i met a lounging italian (the same who wanted me to come up from padras by water), a good-natured and good-for-nothing fellow, and skilled in tongues; and going with him into a coffee-house thronged with bavarians and europeans of various nations in the service of government, heard another story, by which it appeared that the greeks, as usual, were in the wrong, and that the poor bavarian had been stabbed without the slightest provocation, purely from the greeks' love of stabbing. tired of this, i left the scene of contention, and a few streets off met an athenian, a friend of two or three days' standing, and, stopping under a window illuminated by a pair of bright eyes from above, happened to express my admiration of the lady who owned them, when he tested the strength of my feelings on the subject by asking me if i would like to marry her. i was not prepared at the moment to give precisely that proof, and he followed up his blow by telling me that, if i wished it, he would engage to secure her for me before the next morning. the greeks are almost universally poor. with them every traveller is rich, and they are so thoroughly civilized as to think that a rich man is, of course, a good match. toward evening i paid my last visit to the acropolis. solitude, silence, and sunset are the nursery of sentiment. i sat down on a broken capital of the parthenon; the owl was already flitting among the ruins. i looked up at the majestic temple and down at the ruined and newly-regenerated city, and said to myself, "lots must rise in athens!" i traced the line of the ancient walls, ran a railroad to the piræus, and calculated the increase on "up-town lots" from building the king's palace near the garden of plato. shall i or shall i not "make an operation" in athens? the court has removed here, the country is beautiful, climate fine, government fixed, steamboats are running, all the world is coming, and lots must rise. i bought (in imagination) a tract of good tillable land, laid it out in streets, had my plato, and homer, and washington places, and jackson avenue, built a row of houses to improve the neighbourhood where nobody lived, got maps lithographed, and sold off at auction. i was in the right condition to "go in," for i had nothing to lose; but, unfortunately, the greeks were very far behind the spirit of the age, knew nothing of the beauties of the credit system, and could not be brought to dispose of their consecrated soil "on the usual terms," _ten per cent. down, balance on bond and mortgage_, so, giving up the idea, at dark i bade farewell to the ruins of the acropolis, and went to my hotel to dinner. early the next morning i started for the field of marathon. i engaged a servant at the hotel to accompany me, but he disappointed me, and i set out alone with my muleteer. our road lay along the base of mount hymettus, on the borders of the plain of attica, shaded by thick groves of olives. at noon i was on the summit of a lofty mountain, at the base of which, still and quiet as if it had never resounded with the shock of war, the great battle-ground of the greeks and persians extended to the sea. the descent was one of the finest things i met with in greece; wild, rugged, and, in fact, the most magnificent kind of mountain scenery. at the foot of the mountain we came to a ruined convent, occupied by an old white-bearded monk. i stopped there and lunched, the old man laying before me his simple store of bread and olives, and looking on with pleasure at my voracious appetite. [illustration: mound of marathon.] this over, i hurried to the battle-field. toward the centre is a large mound of earth, erected over the athenians who fell in the battle. i made directly for this mound, ascended it, and threw the reins loose over my horse's neck; and, sitting on the top, read the account of the battle in herodotus. after all, is not our reverence misplaced, or, rather does not our respect for deeds hallowed by time render us comparatively unjust? the greek revolution teems with instances of as desperate courage, as great love of country, as patriotic devotion, as animated the men of marathon, and yet the actors in these scenes are not known beyond the boundaries of their native land. thousands whose names were never heard of, and whose bones, perhaps, never received burial, were as worthy of an eternal monument as they upon whose grave i sat. still that mound is a hallowed sepulchre; and the shepherd who looks at it from his mountain home, the husbandman who drives his plough to its base, and the sailor who hails it as a landmark from the deck of his caique, are all reminded of the glory of their ancestors. but away with the mouldering relics of the past. give me the green grave of marco bozzaris. i put herodotus in my pocket, gathered a few blades of grass as a memorial, descended the mound, betook myself to my saddle, and swept the plain on a gallop, from the mountain to the sea. it is about two miles in width, and bounded by rocky heights enclosing it at either extremity. toward the shore the ground is marshy, and at the place where the persians escaped to their ships are some unknown ruins; in several places the field is cultivated, and toward evening, on my way to the village of marathon, i saw a greek ploughing; and when i told him that i was an american, he greeted me as the friend of greece. it is the last time i shall recur to this feeling; but it was music to my heart to hear a ploughman on immortal marathon sound in my ears the praises of my country. i intended to pass the night at the village of marathon; but every khan was so cluttered up with goats, chickens, and children, that i rode back to the monastery at the foot of the mountain. it was nearly dark when i reached it. the old monk was on a little eminence at the door of his chapel, clapping two boards together to call his flock to vespers. with his long white beard, his black cap and long black gown, his picturesque position and primitive occupation, he seemed a guardian spirit hovering on the borders of marathon in memory of its ancient glory. he came down to the monastery to receive me, and, giving me a paternal welcome, and spreading a mat on the floor, returned to his chapel. i followed, and saw his little flock assemble. the ploughman came up from the plain and the shepherd came down from the mountain; the old monk led the way to the altar, and all kneeled down and prostrated themselves on the rocky floor. i looked at them with deep interest. i had seen much of greek devotion in cities and villages, but it was a spectacle of extraordinary interest to see these wild and lawless men assembled on this lonely mountain to worship in all sincerity, according to the best light they had, the god of their fathers. i could not follow them in their long and repeated kneelings and prostrations; but my young greek, as if to make amends for me, and, at the same time, to show how they did things in athens, led the van. the service over, several of them descended with us to the monastery; the old monk spread his mat, and again brought out his frugal store of bread and olives. i contributed what i had brought from athens, and we made our evening meal. if i had judged from appearances, i should have felt rather uneasy at sleeping among such companions; but the simple fact of having seen them at their devotions gave me confidence. though i had read and heard that the italian bandit went to the altar to pray forgiveness for the crimes he intended to commit, and, before washing the stains from his hands, hung up the bloody poniard upon a pillar of the church, and asked pardon for murder, i always felt a certain degree of confidence in him who practised the duties of his religion, whatever that religion might be. i leaned on my elbow, and, by the blaze of the fire, read herodotus, while my muleteer, as i judged from the frequent repetition of the word americanos, entertained them with long stories about me. by degrees the blaze of the fire died away, the greeks stretched themselves out for sleep, the old monk handed me a bench about four inches high for a pillow, and, wrapping myself in my cloak, in a few moments i was wandering in the land of dreams. before daylight my companions were in motion. i intended to return by the marble quarries on the pentelican mountain; and crying "cavallo" in the ear of my still sleeping muleteer, in a few minutes i bade farewell for ever to the good old monk of marathon. almost from the door of the monastery we commenced ascending the mountain. it was just peep of day, the weather raw and cold, the top of the mountain covered with clouds, and in an hour i found myself in the midst of them. the road was so steep and dangerous that i could not ride; a false step of my horse might have thrown me over a precipice several hundred feet deep; and the air was so keen and penetrating, that, notwithstanding the violent exercise of walking, i was perfectly chilled. the mist was so dense, too, that, when my guide was a few paces in advance, i could not see him, and i was literally groping my way through the clouds. i had no idea where i was nor of the scene around me, but i felt that i was in a measure lifted above the earth. the cold blasts drove furiously along the sides of the mountain, whistled against the precipices, and bellowed in the hollows of the rocks, sometimes driving so furiously that my horse staggered and fell back. i was almost bewildered in struggling blindly against them; but, just before reaching the top of the mountain, the thick clouds were lifted as if by an invisible hand, and i saw once more the glorious sun pouring his morning beams upon a rich valley extending a great distance to the foot of the pentelican mountain. about half way down we came to a beautiful stream, on the banks of which we took out our bread and olives. our appetites were stimulated by the mountain air, and we divided till our last morsel was gone. at the foot of the mountain, lying between it and mount pentelicus, was a large monastery, occupied by a fraternity of monks. we entered and walked through it, but found no one to receive us. in a field near by we saw one of the monks, from whom we obtained a direction to the quarries. moving on to the foot of the mountain, which rises with a peaked summit into the clouds, we commenced ascending, and soon came upon the strata of beautiful white marble for which mount pentelicus has been celebrated thousands of years. excavations appear to have been made along the whole route, and on the roadside were blocks, and marks caused by the friction of the heavy masses transported to athens. the great quarries are toward the summit. the surface has been cut perpendicularly smooth, perhaps eighty or a hundred feet high, and one hundred and fifty or two hundred feet in width, and excavations have been made within to an unknown extent. whole cities might have been built with the materials taken away, and yet by comparison with what is left, there is nothing gone. in front are entrances to a large chamber, in one corner of which, on the right, is a chapel with the painted figure of the virgin to receive the greeks' prayers. within are vast humid caverns, over which the wide roof awfully extends, adorned with hollow tubes like icicles, while a small transparent petrifying stream trickles down the rock. on one side are small chambers communicating with subterraneous avenues, used, no doubt, as places of refuge during the revolution, or as the haunts of robbers. bones of animals and stones blackened with smoke showed that but lately some part had been occupied as a habitation. the great excavations around, blocks of marble lying as they fell, perhaps, two thousand years ago, and the appearances of having been once a scene of immense industry and labour, stand in striking contrast with the desolation and solitude now existing. probably the hammer and chisel will never be heard there more, great temples will no more be raised, and modern genius will never, like the greeks of old, make the rude blocks of marble speak. [illustration: quarries of pentelicus.] at dark i was dining at the hotel de france, when mr. hill came over with the welcome intelligence that my carpet-bag had arrived. on it was pinned a large paper, with the words "huzzah!" "huzzah!" "huzzah!" by my friend maxwell, who had met it on horse back on the shores of the gulf of lepanto, travelling under the charge of a greek in search of me. i opened it with apprehension, and, to my great satisfaction, found undisturbed the object of my greatest anxiety, the precious notebook from which i now write, saved from the peril of an anonymous publication or of being used up for gun-waddings. the next morning, before i was up, i heard a gentle rap at my door, which was followed by the entrance of a german, a missionary, whom i had met several times at mr. hill's, and who had dined with me once at my hotel. i apologized for being caught in bed, and told him that he must possess a troubled spirit to send him so early from his pillow. he answered that i was right; that he did indeed possess a troubled spirit; and closing the door carefully, came to my bedside, and said he had conceived a great regard for me, and intended confiding in me an important trust. i had several times held long conversations with him at mr. hill's, and very little to my edification, as his english was hardly intelligible; but i felt pleased at having, without particularly striving for it, gained the favourable opinion of one who bore the character of a very learned and a very good man. i requested him to step into the dining-room while i rose and dressed myself; but he put his hand upon my breast to keep me down, and drawing a chair, began, "you are going to smyrna." he then paused, but, after some moments of hesitation, proceeded to say that the first name i would hear on my arrival there would be his own; that, unfortunately, it was in everybody's mouth. my friend was a short and very ugly middle-aged man, with a very large mouth, speaking english with the most disagreeable german sputter, lame from a fall, and, altogether, of a most uninteresting and unsentimental aspect; and he surprised me much by laying before me a veritable _affaire du coeur_. it was so foreign to my expectations, that i should as soon have expected to be made a confidant in a love affair by the archbishop of york. after a few preliminaries he went into particulars; lavished upon the lady the usual quota of charms "in such case made and provided," but was uncertain, rambling, and discursive in regard to the position he held in her regard. at first i understood that it was merely the old story, a flirtation and a victim; then that they were very near being married, which i afterward understood to be only so near as this, that he was willing and she not; and, finally, it settled down into the every-day occurrence, the lady smiled, while the parents and a stout two-fisted brother frowned. i could but think, if such a homely expression may be introduced in describing these tender passages, that he had the boot on the wrong leg, and that the parents were much more likely than the daughter to favour such a suitor. however, on this point i held my peace. the precise business he wished to impose on me was, immediately on my arrival in smyrna to form the acquaintance of the lady and her family, and use all my exertions in his favour. i told him i was an entire stranger in smyrna, and could not possibly have any influence with the parties; but, being urged, promised him that, if i could interfere without intruding myself improperly, he should have the benefit of my mediation. at first he intended giving me a letter to the lady, but afterward determined to give me one to the rev. mr. brewer, an american missionary, who, he said, was a particular friend of his, and intimate with the beloved and her family, and acquainted with the whole affair. placing himself at my table, on which were pens, ink, and paper, he proceeded to write his letter, while i lay quietly till he turned over the first side, when, tired of waiting, i rose, dressed myself, packed up, and, before he had finished, stood by the table with my carpet-bag, waiting until he should have done to throw in my writing materials. he bade me good-by after i had mounted my horse to leave, and, when i turned back to look at him, i could not but feel for the crippled, limping victim of the tender passion, though, in honesty, and with the best wishes for his success, i did not think it would help his suit for the lady to see him. an account of my journey from athens to smyrna, given in a letter to friends at home, was published during my absence and without my knowledge, in successive numbers of the american monthly magazine, and perhaps the favourable notice taken of it had some influence in inducing me to write a book. i give the papers as they were then published. _smyrna, april_, . my dear ****, i have just arrived at this place, and i live to tell it. i have been three weeks performing a voyage usually made in three days. it has been tedious beyond all things; but, as honest dogberry would say, if it had been ten times as tedious, i could find it in my heart to bestow it all upon you. to begin at the beginning: on the morning of the second instant, i and my long-lost carpet-bag left the eternal city of athens, without knowing exactly whither we were going, and sincerely regretted by miltiades panajotti, the garçon of the hotel. we wound round the foot of the acropolis, and, giving a last look to its ruined temples, fell into the road to the piræus, and in an hour found ourselves at that ancient harbour, almost as celebrated in the history of greece as athens itself. here we took counsel as to farther movements, and concluded to take passage in a caique to sail that evening for syra, being advised that that island was a great place of rendezvous for vessels, and that from it we could procure a passage to any place we chose. having disposed of my better half (i may truly call it so, for what is man without pantaloons, vests, and shirts), i took a little sailboat to float around the ancient harbour and muse upon its departed glories. the day that i lingered there before bidding farewell, perhaps for ever, to the shores of greece, is deeply impressed upon my mind. i had hardly begun to feel the magic influence of the land of poets, patriots, and heroes, until the very moment of my departure. i had travelled in the most interesting sections of the country, and found all enthusiasm dead within me when i had expected to be carried away by the remembrance of the past; but here, i know not how it was, without any effort, and in the mere act of whiling away my time, all that was great, and noble, and beautiful in her history rushed upon me at once; the sun and the breeze, the land and the sea, contributed to throw a witchery around me; and in a rich and delightful frame of mind, i found myself among the monuments of her better days, gliding by the remains of the immense wall erected to enclose the harbour during the peloponnesian war, and was soon floating upon the classic waters of salamis. if i had got there by accident it would not have occurred to me to dream of battles and all the fierce panoply of war upon that calm and silvery surface. but i knew where i was, and my blood was up. i was among the enduring witnesses of the athenian glory. behind me was the ancient city, the acropolis, with its ruined temples, the telltale monuments of by-gone days, towering above the plain; here was the harbour from which the galleys carried to the extreme parts of the then known world the glories of the athenian name; before me was unconquered salamis; here the invading fleet of xerxes; there the little navy, the last hope of the athenians; here the island of Ægina, from which aristides, forgetting his quarrel with themistocles, embarked in a rude boat, during the hottest of the battle, for the ship of the latter; and there the throne of xerxes, where the proud invader stationed himself as spectator of the battle that was to lay the rich plain of attica at his feet. there could be no mistake about localities; the details have been handed down from generation to generation, and are as well known to the greeks of the present day as they were to their fathers. so i went to work systematically, and fought the whole battle through. i gave the persians ten to one, but i made the greeks fight like tigers; i pointed them to their city; to their wives and children; i brought on long strings of little innocents, urging them as in the farce, "sing out, young uns;" i carried old themistocles among the persians like a modern greek fireship among the turks; i sunk ship after ship, and went on demolishing them at a most furious rate, until i saw old xerxes scudding from his throne, and the remnant of the persian fleet scampering away to the tune of "devil take the hindmost." by this time i had got into the spirit of the thing; and moving rapidly over that water, once red with blood of thousands from the fields of asia, i steered for the shore and mounted the vacant throne of xerxes. this throne is on a hill near the shore, not very high, and as pretty a place as a man could have selected to see his friends whipped and keep out of harm's way himself; for you will recollect that in those days there was no gunpowder nor cannon balls, and, consequently, no danger from long chance shots. i selected a particular stone, which i thought it probable xerxes, as a reasonable man, and with an eye to perspective, might have chosen as his seat on the eventful day of the battle; and on that same stone sat down to meditate upon the vanity of all earthly greatness. but, most provokingly, whenever i think of xerxes, the first thing that presents itself to my mind is the couplet in the primer, "xerxes the great did die, and so must you and i." this is a very sensible stanza, no doubt, and worthy of always being borne in mind; but it was not exactly what i wanted. i tried to drive it away; but the more i tried, the more it stuck to me. it was all in vain. i railed at early education, and resolved that acquired knowledge hurts a man's natural faculties; for if i had not received the first rudiments of education, i should not have been bothered with the vile couplet, and should have been able to do something on my own account. as it was, i lost one of the best opportunities ever a man had for moralizing; and you, my dear ----, have lost at least three pages. i give you, however, all the materials; put yourself on the throne of xerxes, and do what you can, and may your early studies be no stumbling-block in your way. as for me, vexed and disgusted with myself, i descended the hill as fast as the great king did of yore, and jumping into my boat, steered for the farthest point of the piræus; from the throne of _xerxes_ to the tomb of themistocles. i was prepared to do something here. this was not merely a place where he had been; i was to tread upon the earth that covered his bones; here were his ashes; here was all that remained of the best and bravest of the greeks, save his immortal name. as i approached i saw the large square stones that enclosed his grave, and mused upon his history; the deliverer of his country, banished, dying an exile, his bones begged by his repenting countrymen, and buried with peculiar propriety near the shore of the sea commanding a full view of the scene of his naval glory. for more than two thousand years the waves have almost washed over his grave, the sun has shone and the winds have howled over him; while, perhaps, his spirit has mingled with the sighing of the winds and the murmur of the waters, in moaning over the long captivity of his countrymen; perhaps, too, his spirit has been with them in their late struggle for liberty; has hovered over them in the battle and the breeze, and is now standing sentinel over his beloved and liberated country. i approached as to the grave of one who will never die. his great name, his great deeds, hallowed by the lapse of so many ages; the scene--i looked over the wall with a feeling amounting to reverence, when, directly before me, the first thing i saw, the only thing i could see, so glaring and conspicuous that nothing else could fix my eye, was a tall, stiff, wooden headboard, painted white, with black letters, to the memory of an englishman with as unclassical a name as that of _john johnson_. my eyes were blasted with the sight; i was ferocious; i railed at him as if he had buried himself there with his own hands. what had he to do there? i railed at his friends. did they expect to give him a name by mingling him with the ashes of the immortal dead? did they expect to steal immortality like fire from the flint? i dashed back to my boat, steered directly for the harbour, gave sentiment to the dogs, and in half an hour was eating a most voracious and spiteful dinner. in the evening i embarked on board my little caique. she was one of the most rakish of that rakish description of vessels. i drew my cloak around me and stretched myself on the deck as we glided quietly out of the harbour; saw the throne of xerxes, the island of salamis, and the shores of greece gradually fade from view; looked at the dusky forms of the greeks in their capotes lying asleep around me; at the helmsman sitting cross-legged at his post, apparently without life or motion; gave one thought to home, and fell asleep. in the morning i began to examine my companions. they were, in all, a captain and six sailors, probably all part owners, and two passengers from one of the islands, not one of whom could speak any other language than greek. my knowledge of that language was confined to a few rolling hexameters, which had stuck by me in some unaccountable way as a sort of memento of college days. these, however, were of no particular use, and, consequently, i was pretty much tongue-tied during the whole voyage. i amused myself by making my observations quietly upon my companions, as they did more openly upon me, for i frequently heard the word "americanos" pass among them. i had before had occasion to see something of greek sailors, and to admire their skill and general good conduct, and i was fortified in my previous opinion by what i saw of my present companions. their temperance in eating and drinking is very remarkable, and all my comparisons between them and european sailors were very much in their favour. indeed, i could not help thinking, as they sat collectively, turkish fashion, around their frugal meal of bread, caviari, and black olives, that i had never seen finer men. their features were regular, in that style which we to this day recognise as grecian; their figures good, and their faces wore an air of marked character and intelligence; and these advantages of person were set off by the island costume, the fez or red cloth cap, with a long black tassel at the top, a tight vest and jacket, embroidered and without collars, large turkish trousers coming down a little below the knee, legs bare, sharp-pointed slippers, and a sash around the waist, tied under the left side, with long ends hanging down, and a knife sticking out about six inches. there was something bold and daring in their appearance; indeed, i may say, rakish and piratical; and i could easily imagine that, if the mediterranean should again become infested with pirates, my friends would cut no contemptible figure among them. but i must not detain you as long on the voyage as i was myself. the sea was calm; we had hardly any wind; our men were at the oars nearly all the time, and, passing slowly by Ægina, cape sunium, with its magnificent ruins mournfully overlooking the sea, better known in modern times as colonna's height and the scene of falconer's shipwreck, passing also the island of zea, the ancient chios, thermia, and other islands of lesser note, in the afternoon of the third day we arrived at syra. with regard to syra i shall say but little; i am as loath to linger about it now as i was to stay there then. the fact is, i cannot think of the place with any degree of satisfaction. the evening of my arrival i heard, through a greek merchant to whom i had a letter from a friend in athens, of a brig to sail the next day for smyrna; and i lay down on a miserable bed in a miserable locanda, in the confident expectation of resuming my journey in the morning. before morning, however, i was roused by "blustering boreas" rushing through the broken casement of my window; and for more than a week all the winds ever celebrated in the poetical history of greece were let loose upon the island. we were completely cut off from all communication with the rest of the world. not a vessel could leave the port, while vessel after vessel put in there for shelter. i do not mean to go into any details; indeed, for my own credit's sake i dare not; for if i were to draw a true picture of things as i found them; if i were to write home the truth, i should be considered as utterly destitute of taste and sentiment; i should be looked upon as a most unpoetical dog, who ought to have been at home poring over the revised statutes instead of breathing the pure air of poetry and song. and now, if i were writing what might by chance come under the eyes of a sentimental young lady or a young gentleman in his teens, the truth would be the last thing i would think of telling. no, though my teeth chatter, though a cold sweat comes over me when i think of it, i would go through the usual rhapsody, and huzzah for "the land of the east and the clime of the sun." indeed, i have a scrap in my portfolio, written with my cloak and greatcoat on, and my feet over a brazier, beginning in that way. but to you, my dear ----, who know my touching sensibilities, and who, moreover, have a tender regard for my character and will not publish me, i would as soon tell the truth as not. and i therefore do not hesitate to say, but do not whisper it elsewhere, that in one of the beautiful islands of the Ægean; in the heart of the cyclades, in the sight of delos, and paros, and antiparos, any one of which is enough to throw one who has never seen them into raptures with their fancied beauties, here, in this paradise of a young man's dreams, in the middle of april, i would have hailed "chill november's surly blast" as a zephyr; i would have exchanged all the beauties of this balmy clime for the sunny side of kamschatka; i would have given my room and the whole island of syra for a third-rate lodging in communipaw. it was utterly impossible to walk out, and equally impossible to stay in my room; the house, to suit that delightful climate, being built without windows or window-shutters. if i could forget the island, i could remember with pleasure the society i met there. i passed my mornings in the library of mr. r., one of our worthy american missionaries; and my evenings at the house of mr. w., the british consul. this gentleman married a greek lady of smyrna, and had three beautiful daughters, more than half greeks in their habits and feelings; one of them is married to an english baronet, another to a greek merchant of syra, and the third--. on the ninth day the wind fell, the sun once more shone brightly, and in the evening i embarked on board a rickety brig for smyrna. at about six o'clock p.m. thirty or forty vessels were quietly crawling out of the harbour like rats after a storm. it was almost a calm when we started: in about two hours we had a favourable breeze; we turned in, going at the rate of eight miles an hour, and rose with a strong wind dead ahead. we beat about all that day; the wind increased to a gale, and toward evening we took shelter in the harbour of scio. the history of this beautiful little island forms one of the bloodiest pages in the history of the world, and one glance told that dreadful history. once the most beautiful island of the archipelago, it is now a mass of ruins. its fields, which once "budded and blossomed as the rose," have become waste places; its villages are deserted, its towns are in ruins, its inhabitants murdered, in captivity, and in exile. before the greek revolution the greeks of scio were engaged in extensive commerce, and ranked among the largest merchants in the levant. though living under hard taskmasters, subject to the exactions of a rapacious pacha, their industry and enterprise, and the extraordinary fertility of their island, enabled them to pay a heavy tribute to the turks and to become rich themselves. for many years they had enjoyed the advantages of a college, with professors of high literary and scientific attainments, and their library was celebrated throughout all that country; it was, perhaps, the only spot in greece where taste and learning still held a seat. but the island was far more famed for its extraordinary natural beauty and fertility. its bold mountains and its soft valleys, the mildness of its climate and the richness of its productions, bound the greeks to its soil by a tie even stronger than the chain of their turkish masters. in the early part of the revolution the sciotes took no part with their countrymen in their glorious struggle for liberty. forty of their principal citizens were given up as hostages, and they were suffered to remain in peace. wrapped in the rich beauties of their island, they forgot the freedom of their fathers and their own chains; and, under the precarious tenure of a tyrant's will, gave themselves up to the full enjoyment of all that wealth and taste could purchase. we must not be too hard upon human nature; the cause seemed desperate; they had a little paradise at stake; and if there is a spot on earth, the risk of losing which could excuse men in forgetting that they were slaves in a land where their fathers were free, it is the island of scio. but the sword hung suspended over them by a single hair. in an unexpected hour, without the least note of preparation, they were startled by the thunder of the turkish cannon; fifty thousand turks were let loose like bloodhounds upon the devoted island. the affrighted greeks lay unarmed and helpless at their feet, but they lay at the feet of men who did not know mercy even by name; at the feet of men who hungered and thirsted after blood; of men, in comparison with whom wild beasts are as lambs. the wildest beast of the forest may become gorged with blood; not so with the turks at scio. their appetite "grew with what it fed on," and still longed for blood when there was not a victim left to bleed. women were ripped open, children dashed against the walls, the heads of whole families stuck on pikes out of the windows of their houses, while their murderers gave themselves up to riot and plunder within. the forty hostages were hung in a row from the walls of the castle; an indiscriminate and universal burning and massacre took place; in a few days the ground was cumbered with the dead, and one of the loveliest spots on earth was a pile of smoking ruins. out of a population of one hundred and ten thousand, sixty thousand are supposed to have been murdered, twenty thousand to have escaped, and thirty thousand to have been sold into slavery. boys and young girls were sold publicly in the streets of smyrna and constantinople at a dollar a head. and all this did not arise from any irritated state of feeling toward them. it originated in the cold-blooded, calculating policy of the sultan, conceived in the same spirit which drenched the streets of constantinople with the blood of the janisaries; it was intended to strike terror into the hearts of the greeks, but the murderer failed in his aim. the groans of the hapless sciotes reached the ears of their countrymen, and gave a headlong and irresistible impulse to the spirit then struggling to be free. and this bloody tragedy was performed in our own days, and in the face of the civilized world. surely if ever heaven visits in judgment a nation for a nation's crimes, the burning and massacre at scio will be deeply visited upon the accursed turks. it was late in the afternoon when i landed, and my landing was under peculiarly interesting circumstances. one of my fellow-passengers was a native of the island, who had escaped during the massacre, and now revisited it for the first time. he asked me to accompany him ashore, promising to find some friends at whose house we might sleep; but he soon found himself a stranger in his native island: where he had once known everybody, he now knew nobody. the town was a complete mass of ruins; the walls of many fine buildings were still standing, crumbling to pieces, and still black with the fire of the incendiary turks. the town that had grown up upon the ruins consisted of a row of miserable shantees, occupied as shops for the sale of the mere necessaries of life, where the shopman slept on his window-shutter in front. all my companion's efforts to find an acquaintance who would give us a night's lodging were fruitless. we were determined not to go on board the vessel, if possible to avoid it; her last cargo had been oil, the odour of which still remained about her. the weather would not permit us to sleep on deck, and the cabin was intolerably disagreeable. to add to our unpleasant position, and, at the same time, to heighten the cheerlessness of the scene around us, the rain began to fall violently. under the guidance of a greek we searched among the ruins for an apartment where we might build a fire and shelter ourselves for the night, but we searched in vain; the work of destruction was too complete. cold, and thoroughly drenched with rain, we were retracing our way to our boat, when our guide told my companion that a greek archbishop had lately taken up his abode among the ruins. we immediately went there, and found him occupying apartments, partially repaired, in what had once been one of the finest houses in scio. the entrance through a large stone gateway was imposing; the house was cracked from top to bottom by fire, nearly one half had fallen down, and the stones lay scattered as they fell; but enough remained to show that in its better days it had been almost a palace. we ascended a flight of stone steps to a terrace, from which we entered into a large hall perhaps thirty feet wide and fifty feet long. on one side of this hall the wall had fallen down the whole length, and we looked out upon the mass of ruins beneath. on the other side, in a small room in one corner, we found the archbishop. he was sick, and in bed with all his clothes on, according to the universal custom here, but received us kindly. the furniture consisted of an iron bedstead with a mattress, on which he lay with a quilt spread over him, a wooden sofa, three wooden chairs, about twenty books, and two large leather cases containing clothes, napkins, and, probably, all his worldly goods. the rain came through the ceiling in several places; the bed of the poor archbishop had evidently been moved from time to time to avoid it, and i was obliged to change my position twice. an air of cheerless poverty reigned through the apartment. i could not help comparing his lot with that of more favoured and, perhaps, not more worthy servants of the church. it was a style so different from that of the priests at rome, the pope and his cardinals, with their gaudy equipages and multitudes of footmen rattling to the vatican; or from the pomp and state of the haughty english prelates, or even from the comforts of our own missionaries in different parts of this country, that i could not help feeling deeply for the poor priest before me. but he seemed contented and cheerful, and even thankful that, for the moment, there were others worse off than himself, and that he had it in his power to befriend them. sweetmeats, coffee, and pipes were served; and in about an hour we were conducted to supper in a large room, also opening from the hall. our supper would not have tempted an epicure, but suited very well an appetite whetted by exercise and travel. it consisted of a huge lump of bread and a large glass of water for each of us, caviari, black olives, and two kinds of turkish sweetmeats. we were waited upon by two priests: one of them, a handsome young man, not more than twenty, with long black hair hanging over his shoulders like a girl's, stood by with a napkin on his arm and a pewter vessel, with which he poured water on our hands, receiving it again in a basin. this was done both before and after eating; then came coffee and pipes. during the evening the young priest brought out an edition of homer, and i surprised _him_, and astounded _myself_, by being able to translate a passage in the iliad. i translated it in french, and my companion explained it in modern greek to the young priest. our beds were cushions laid on a raised platform or divan extending around the walls, with a quilt for each of us. in the morning, after sweetmeats, coffee, and pipes, we paid our respects to the good old archbishop, and took our leave. when we got out of doors, finding that the wind was the same, and that there was no possibility of sailing, my friend proposed a ride into the country. we procured a couple of mules, took a small basket of provisions for a collation, and started. our road lay directly along the shore; on one side the sea, and on the other the ruins of houses and gardens, almost washed by the waves. at about three miles' distance we crossed a little stream, by the side of which we saw a sarcophagus, lately disinterred, containing the usual vases of a grecian tomb, including the piece of money to pay charon his ferriage over the river styx, and six pounds of dust; being all that remained of a _man_--perhaps one who had filled a large space in the world; perhaps a hero--buried probably more than two thousand years ago. after a ride of about five miles we came to the ruins of a large village, the style of which would anywhere have fixed the attention, as having been once a favoured abode of wealth and taste. the houses were of brown stone, built together, strictly in the venetian style, after the models left during the occupation of the island by the venetians, large and elegant, with gardens of three or four acres, enclosed by high walls of the same kind of stone, and altogether in a style far superior to anything i had seen in greece. these were the country-houses and gardens of the rich merchants of scio. the manner of living among the proprietors here was somewhat peculiar, and the ties that bound them to this little village were peculiarly strong. this was the family home; the community was essentially mercantile, and most of their business transactions were carried on elsewhere. when there were three or four brothers in a family, one would be in constantinople a couple of years, another at trieste, and so on, while another remained at home; so that those who were away, while toiling amid the perplexities of business, were always looking to the occasional family reunion; and all trusted to spend the evening of their days among the beautiful gardens of scio. what a scene for the heart to turn to now! the houses and gardens were still there, some standing almost entire, others black with smoke and crumbling to ruins. but where were they who once occupied them? where were they who should now be coming out to rejoice in the return of a friend and to welcome a stranger? an awful solitude, a stillness that struck a cold upon the heart, reigned around us. we saw nobody; and our own voices, and the tramping of our horses upon the deserted pavements, sounded hollow and sepulchral in our ears. it was like walking among the ruins of pompeii; it was another city of the dead; but there was a freshness about the desolation that seemed of to-day; it seemed as though the inhabitants should be sleeping and not dead. indeed, the high walls of the gardens, and the outside of the houses too, were generally so fresh and in so perfect a state, that it seemed like riding through a handsome village at an early hour before the inhabitants had risen; and i sometimes could not help thinking that in an hour or two the streets would be thronged with a busy population. my friend continued to conduct me through the solitary streets; telling me, as we went along, that this was the house of such a family, this of such a family, with some of whose members i had become acquainted in greece, until, stopping before a large stone gateway, he dismounted at the gate of his father's house. in that house he was born; there he had spent his youth; he had escaped from it during the dreadful massacre, and this was the first time of his revisiting it. what a tide of recollections must have rushed upon him! we entered through the large stone gateway into a courtyard beautifully paved in mosaic in the form of a star, with small black and white round stones. on our left was a large stone reservoir, perhaps twenty-five feet square, still so perfect as to hold water, with an arbour over it supported by marble columns; a venerable grapevine completely covered the arbour. the garden covered an extent of about four acres, filled with orange, lemon, almond, and fig trees; overrun with weeds, roses, and flowers, growing together in wild confusion. on the right was the house, and a melancholy spectacle it was; the wall had fallen down on one side, and the whole was black with smoke. we ascended a flight of stone steps, with marble balustrades, to the terrace, a platform about twenty feet square, overlooking the garden. from the terrace we entered the saloon, a large room with high ceilings and fresco paintings on the walls; the marks of the fire kindled on the stone floor still visible, all the woodwork burned to a cinder, and the whole black with smoke. it was a perfect picture of wanton destruction. the day, too, was in conformity with the scene; the sun was obscured, the wind blew through the ruined building, it rained, was cold and cheerless. what were the feelings of my friend i cannot imagine; the houses of three of his uncles were immediately adjoining; one of these uncles was one of the forty hostages, and was hanged; the other two were murdered; his father, a venerable-looking old man, who came down to the vessel when we started to see him off, had escaped to the mountains, from thence in a caique to ipsara, and from thence into italy. i repeat it, i cannot imagine what were his feelings; he spoke but little; they must have been too deep for utterance. i looked at everything with intense interest; i wanted to ask question after question, but could not, in mercy, probe his bleeding wounds. we left the house and walked out into the garden. it showed that there was no master's eye to watch over it; i plucked an orange which had lost its flavour; the tree was withering from want of care; our feet became entangled among weeds, and roses, and rare hothouse plants growing wildly together. i said that he did not talk much; but the little he did say amounted to volumes. passing a large vase in which a beautiful plant was running wildly over the sides, he murmured indistinctly "the same vase" (le même vase), and once he stopped opposite a tree, and, turning to me, said, "this is the only tree i do not remember." these and other little incidental remarks showed how deeply all the particulars were engraved upon his mind, and told me, plainer than words, that the wreck and ruin he saw around him harrowed his very soul. indeed, how could it be otherwise? this was his father's house, the home of his youth, the scene of his earliest, dearest, and fondest recollections. busy memory, that source of all our greatest pains as well as greatest pleasures, must have pressed sorely upon him, must have painted the ruined and desolate scene around him in colours even brighter, far brighter, than they ever existed in; it must have called up the faces of well-known and well-loved friends; indeed, he must have asked himself, in bitterness and in anguish of spirit, "the friends of my youth where are they?" while the fatal answer fell upon his heart, "gone murdered, in captivity and in exile." chapter viii. a noble grecian lady.--beauty of scio.--an original.--foggi.--a turkish coffee-house.--mussulman at prayers.--easter sunday.--a greek priest.--a tartar guide.--turkish ladies.--camel scenes.--sight of a harem.--disappointed hopes.--a rare concert.--arrival at smyrna. (_continuation of the letter._) we returned to the house, and seeking out a room less ruined than the rest, partook of a slight collation, and set out on a visit to a relative of my sciote friend. on our way my companion pointed out a convent on the side of a hill, where six thousand greeks, who had been prevailed upon to come down from the mountains to ransom themselves, were treacherously murdered to a man; their unburied bones still whiten the ground within the walls of the convent. arriving at the house of his relative, we entered through a large gateway into a handsome courtyard, with reservoir, garden, &c., ruinous, though in better condition than those we had seen before. this relative was a widow, of the noble house of mavrocordato, one of the first families in greece, and perhaps the most distinguished name in the greek revolution. she had availed herself of the sultan's amnesty to return; had repaired two or three rooms, and sat down to end her days among the scenes of her childhood, among the ruins of her father's house. she was now not more than thirty; her countenance was remarkably pensive, and she had seen enough to drive a smile for ever from her face. the meeting between her and my friend was exceedingly affecting, particularly on her part. she wept bitterly, though, with the elasticity peculiar to the greek character, the smile soon chased away the tear. she invited us to spend the night there, pointing to the divan, and promising us cushions and coverlets. we accepted her invitation, and again set forth to ramble among the ruins. i had heard that an american missionary had lately come into the island, and was living somewhere in the neighbourhood. i found out his abode, and went to see him. he was a young man from virginia, by the name of ****; had married a lady from connecticut, who was unfortunately sick in bed. he was living in one room in the corner of a ruined building, but was then engaged in repairing a house into which he expected to remove soon. as an american, the first whom they had seen in that distant island, they invited me into the sickroom. in a strange land, and among a people whose language they did not understand, they seemed to be all in all to each other; and i left them, probably for ever, in the earnest hope that the wife might soon be restored to health, that hand in hand they might sustain each other in the rough path before them. toward evening we returned to the house of my friend's relative. we found there a nephew, a young man about twenty-two, and a cousin, a man about thirty-five, both accidentally on a visit to the island. as i looked at the little party before me, sitting around a brazier of charcoal, and talking earnestly in greek, i could hardly persuade myself that what i had seen and heard that day was real. all that i had ever read in history of the ferocity of the turkish character; all the wild stories of corsairs, of murdering, capturing, and carrying into captivity, that i had ever read in romances, crowded upon me, and i saw living witnesses that the bloodiest records of history and the wildest creations of romance were not overcharged. they could all testify in their own persons that these things were true. they had all been stripped of their property, and had their houses burned over their heads; had all narrowly escaped being murdered; and had all suffered in their nearest and dearest connexions. the nephew, then a boy nine years old, had been saved by a maidservant, his father had been murdered; a brother, a sister, and many of his cousins, were at that moment, and had been for years, in slavery among the turks; my friend, with his sister, had found refuge in the house of the austrian consul, and from thence had escaped into italy; the cousin was the son of one of the forty hostages who were hung, and was the only member of his father's family that escaped death; while our pensive and amiable hostess, a bride of seventeen, had seen her young husband murdered before her eyes; had herself been sold into slavery, and, after two years' servitude, redeemed by her friends. in the morning i rose early and walked out upon the terrace. nature had put on a different garb. the wind had fallen, and the sun was shining warmly upon a scene of softness and luxuriance surpassing all that i had ever heard or dreamed of the beauty of the islands of greece. away with all that i said about syra; skip the page. the terrace overlooked the garden filled with orange, lemon, almond, and fig trees; with plants, roses, and flowers of every description, growing in luxuriant wildness. but the view was not confined to the garden. looking back to the harbour of scio, was a bold range of rugged mountains bounding the view on that side; on the right was the sea, then calm as a lake; on both the other sides were ranges of mountains, irregular and picturesque in their appearance, verdant and blooming to their very summits; and within these limits, for an extent of perhaps five miles, were continued gardens like that at my feet, filled with the choicest fruit-trees, with roses and the greatest variety of rare plants and flowers that ever unfolded their beauties before the eyes of man; above all, the orange-trees, the peculiar favourite of the island, then almost in full bloom, covered with blossoms, from my elevated position on the terrace made the whole valley appear an immense bed of flowers. all, too, felt the freshening influence of the rain; and a gentle breeze brought to me from this wilderness of sweets the most delicious perfume that ever greeted the senses. do not think me extravagant when i say that, in your wildest dreams, you could never fancy so rich and beautiful a scene. even among ruins, that almost made the heart break, i could hardly tear my eyes from it. it is one of the loveliest spots on earth. it is emphatically a paradise lost, for the hand of the turks is upon it; a hand that withers all that it touches. in vain does the sultan invite the survivers, and the children made orphans by his bloody massacre, to return; in vain do the fruits and the flowers, the sun and the soil, invite them to return; their wounds are still bleeding; they cannot forget that the wild beast's paw might again be upon them, and that their own blood might one day moisten the flowers which grow over the graves of their fathers. but i must leave this place. i could hardly tear myself away then, and i love to linger about it now. while i was enjoying the luxury of the terrace a messenger came from the captain to call us on board. with a feeling of the deepest interest i bade farewell, probably for ever, to my sorrowing hostess and to the beautiful gardens of scio. we mounted our mules, and in an hour were at the port. my feelings were so wrought upon that i felt my blood boil at the first turk i met in the streets. i felt that i should like to sacrifice him to the shades of the murdered greeks. i wondered that the greeks did not kill every one on the island. i wondered that they could endure the sight of the turban. we found that the captain had hurried us away unnecessarily. we could not get out of the harbour, and were obliged to lounge about the town all day. we again made a circuit among the ruins; examined particularly those of the library, where we found an old woman who had once been an attendant there, living in a little room in the cellar, completely buried under the stones of the fallen building; and returning, sat down with a chibouk before the door of an old turkish coffee-house fronting the harbour. here i met an original in the person of the dutch consul. he was an old italian, and had been in america during the revolutionary war as _dragoman_, as he called it, to the count de grasse, though, from his afterward incidentally speaking of the count as "my master," i am inclined to think that the word dragoman, which here means a person of great character and trust, may be interpreted as "valet de chambre." the old consul was in scio during the whole of the massacre, and gave me many interesting particulars respecting it. he hates the greeks, and spoke with great indignation about the manner in which their dead bodies lay strewed about the streets for months after the massacre. "d--n them," he said, "he could not go anywhere without stumbling over them." as i began to have some apprehensions about being obliged to stay here another night, i thought i could not employ my time better than in trying to work out of the consul an invitation to spend it with him. but the old fellow was too much for me. when i began to talk about the unpleasantness of being obliged to spend the night on board, and the impossibility of spending it on shore, _having no acquaintance_ there, he began to talk poverty in the most up and down terms. i was a little discouraged, but i looked at his military coat, his cocked hat and cane, and considering his talk merely a sort of apology for the inferior style of housekeeping i would find, was ingeniously working things to a point, when he sent me to the right about by enumerating the little instances of kindness he had received from strangers who happened to visit the island; among others, from one--he had his name in his pocketbook; he should never forget him; perhaps i had heard of him--who, at parting, shook him affectionately by the hand, and gave him a doubloon and a spanish dollar. i hauled off from the representative of the majesty of holland, and perhaps, before this, have been served up to some new visitor as the "mean, stingy american." in the evening we again got under weigh; before morning the wind was again blowing dead ahead; and about midday we put into the harbour of foggi, a port in asia minor, and came to anchor under the walls of the castle, under the blood-red mussulman flag. we immediately got into the boat to go ashore. this was my first port in turkey. a huge ugly african, marked with the smallpox, with two pistols and a yataghan in his belt, stood on a little dock, waited till we were in the act of landing, and then rushed forward, ferocious as a tiger from his native sands, throwing up both his hands, and roaring out "quarantino." this was a new thing in turkey. heretofore the turks, with their fatalist notions, had never taken any precautions against the plague; but they had become frightened by the terrible ravages the disease was then making in egypt, and imposed a quarantine upon vessels coming from thence. we were, however, suffered to land, and our first movement was to the coffee-house directly in front of the dock. the coffee-house was a low wooden building, covering considerable ground, with a large piazza, or, rather, projecting roof all around it. inside and out there was a raised platform against the wall. this platform was one step from the floor, and on this step every one left his shoes before taking his seat on the matting. there were, perhaps, fifty turks inside and out; sitting cross-legged, smoking the chibouk, and drinking coffee out of cups not larger than the shell of a madeira-nut. we kicked our shoes off on the steps, seated ourselves on a mat outside, and took our chibouk and coffee with an air of savoir faire that would not have disgraced the worthiest moslem of them all. verily, said i, as i looked at the dozing, smoking, coffee-sipping congregation around me, there are some good points about the turks, after all. they never think--that hurts digestion; and they love chibouks and coffee--that shows taste and feeling. i fell into their humour, and for a while exchanged nods with my neighbours all around. suddenly the bitterness of thought came upon me; i found that my pipe was exhausted. i replenished it, and took a sip of coffee. verily, said i, there are few better things in this world than chibouks and coffee; they even make men forget there is blood upon their hands. the thought started me; i shrank from contact with my neighbours, cut my way through the volumes of smoke, and got out into the open air. my companion joined me. we entered the walls and made a circuit of the town. it was a dirty little place, having one principal street lined with shops or bazars; every third shop, almost, being a cafteria, where a parcel of huge turbaned fellows were at their daily labours of smoking pipes and drinking coffee. the first thing i remarked as being strikingly different from a european city was the total absence of women. the streets were thronged with men, and not a woman was to be seen, except occasionally i caught a glimpse of a white veil or a pair of black eyes sparkling through the latticed bars of a window. afterward, however, in walking outside the walls into the country, we met a large party of women. when we first saw them they had their faces uncovered; but, as soon as they saw us coming toward them, they stopped and arranged their long white shawls, winding them around their faces so as to leave barely space enough uncovered to allow them to see and breathe, but so that it was utterly impossible for us to distinguish a single one of their features. going on in the direction from which they came, and attracted by the mourning cypress, we came to a large burying-ground. it is situated on the side of a hill almost washed by the waves, and shaded by a thick grove of the funereal tree. there is, indeed, something peculiarly touching in the appearance of this tree; it seems to be endowed with feelings, and to mourn over the dead it shades. the monuments were generally a single upright slab of marble, with a turban on the top. there were many, too, in form like one of our oblong tombstones; and, instead of a slab of marble over the top, the interior was filled with earth, and the surface overrun with roses, evergreens, and flowers. the burying-grounds in the east are always favourite places for walking in; and it is a favourite occupation of the turkish women to watch and water the flowers growing over the graves of their friends. toward evening we returned to the harbour. i withdrew from my companion, and, leaning against one of the gates of the city, fixed my eyes upon the door of a minaret, watching till the muezzin should appear, and, for the last time before the setting of the sun, call all good mussulmans to prayer. the door opens toward mecca, and a little before dark the muezzin came out, and, leaning over the railing with his face toward the tomb of the prophet, in a voice, every tone of which fell distinctly upon my ear, made that solemn call which, from the time of mohammed, has been addressed five times a day from the tops of the minarets to the sons of the faithful. "allah! allah! god is god, and mohammed is his prophet. to prayer! to prayer!" immediately an old turk by my side fell upon his knees, with his face to the tomb of the prophet; ten times, in quick succession, he bowed his forehead till it touched the earth; then clasped his hands and prayed. i never saw more rapt devotion than in this pious old mussulman. i have often marked in italy the severe observance of religious ceremonies; i have seen, for instance, at rome, fifty penitents at a time mounting on their knees, and kissing, as they mounted, the steps of the scala santa, or holy staircase, by which, as the priests tell them, our saviour ascended into the presence of pontius pilate. i have seen the greek prostrate himself before a picture until he was physically exhausted; and i have seen the humble and pious christian at his prayers, beneath the simple fanes and before the peaceful altars of my own land; but i never saw that perfect abandonment with which a turk gives himself up to his god in prayer. he is perfectly abstracted from the things of this world; he does not regard time or place; in his closet or in the street, alone or in a crowd, he sees nothing, he hears nothing; the world is a blank; his god is everything. he is lost in the intensity of his devotion. it is a spectacle almost sublime, and for the moment you forget the polluted fountain of his religion, and the thousand crimes it sanctions, in your admiration of his sincerity and faith. not being able to find any place where we could sleep ashore, except on one of the mats of the coffee-house, head and heels with a dozen turks, we went on board, and toward morning again got under weigh. we beat up to the mouth of the gulf of smyrna, but, with the sirocco blowing directly in our teeth, it was impossible to go farther. we made two or three attempts to enter, but in tacking the last time our old brig, which had hardly ballast enough to keep her keel under water, received such a rough shaking that we got her away before the wind, and at three o'clock p.m. were again anchored in the harbour of foggi. i now began to think that there was a spell upon my movements, and that smyrna, which was becoming to me a sort of land of promise, would never greet my longing eyes. i was somewhat comforted, however, by remembering that i had never yet reached any port in the mediterranean for which i had sailed, without touching at one or two intermediate ports; and that, so far, i had always worked right at last. i was still farther comforted by our having the good fortune to be able to procure lodging ashore, at the house of a greek, the son of a priest. it was the saturday before easter sunday, and the resurrection of our saviour was to be celebrated at midnight, or, rather, the beginning of the next day, according to the rites and ceremonies of the greek church. it was also the last of the forty days' fasting, and the next day commenced feasting. supper was prepared for us, at which meat was put on the table for me only; my greek friend being supposed not to eat meat during the days of fasting. he had been, however, two years out of greece; and though he did not like to offend the prejudices of his countrymen, he did not like fasting. i felt for my fellow-traveller; and, cutting up some meat in small parcels, kept my eye upon the door while he whipped them into his mouth. after supper we lay down upon the divan, with large quilts over us, my friend having promised to rise at twelve o'clock and accompany me to the greek church. at midnight we were roused by the chant of the greeks in the streets, on their way to the church. we turned out, and fell into a procession of five hundred people, making the streets as light as day with their torches. at the door of the church we found our host, sitting at a table with a parcel of wax tapers on one side and a box to receive money on the other. we each bought a taper and went in. after remaining there at least two hours, listening to a monotonous and unintelligible routine of prayers and chants, the priests came out of the holy doors, bearing aloft an image of our saviour on the cross, ornamented with gold leaf, tassels, and festoons of artificial flowers; passed through the church, and out of the opposite door. the greeks lighted their tapers and formed into a procession behind them, and we did the same. immediately outside the door, up the staircase, and on each side of the corridor, allowing merely room enough for the procession to pass, were arranged the women, dressed in white, with long white veils, thrown back from their faces however, laid smooth over the tops of their heads, and hanging down to their feet. nearly every woman, old or young, had a child in her arms. in fact, there seemed to be as great a mustering of children as of men and women, and, for aught that i could see, as much to the edification of the former as the latter. a continued chant was kept up during the movements of the procession, and perhaps for half an hour after the arrival of the priests at the courtyard, when it rose to a tremendous burst. the torches were waved in the air; a wild, unmeaning, and discordant scream or yell rang through the hollow cloisters, and half a dozen pistols, two or three muskets, and twenty or thirty crackers were fired. this was intended as a feu-de-joie, and was supposed to mark the precise moment of our saviour's resurrection. in a few moments the phrensy seemed to pass away; the noise fell from a wild clamour to a slow chant, and the procession returned to the church. the scene was striking, particularly the part outside the church; the dead of night; the waving of torches; the women with their long white dresses, and the children in their arms, &c.; but, from beginning to end, there was nothing solemn in it. returned to the church, a priest came round with a picture of the saviour risen; and, as far as i could make it out, holding in his hand the greek flag, followed by another priest with a plate to receive contributions. he held out the picture to be kissed, then turned his hand to receive the same act of devotion, keeping his eye all the time upon the plate which followed to receive the offerings of the pious, as a sort of payment for the privilege of the kiss. his manner reminded me of the dutch parson, who, immediately after pronouncing a couple man and wife, touching the bridegroom with his elbow, said, "and now where ish mine dollar?" i kissed the picture, dodged his knuckles, paid my money, and left the church. i had been there four hours, during which time, perhaps, more than a thousand persons had been completely absorbed in their religious ceremonies; and though beginning in the middle of the night, i have seen more yawning at the theatre or at an italian opera than i saw there. they now began to disperse, though i remember i left a crowd of regular amateurs, at the head of whom were our sailors, still hanging round the desk of an exhorting priest, with an earnestness that showed a still craving appetite. i do not wonder that the turks look with contempt upon christians, for they have constantly under their eyes the disgusting mummeries of the greek church, and see nothing of the pure and sublime principles our religion inculcates. still, however, there was something striking and interesting in the manner in which the greeks in this turkish town had kept themselves, as it were, a peculiar people, and, in spite of the brands of "dog" and "infidel," held fast to the religion they received from their fathers. there was nothing interesting about them as greeks; they had taken no part with their countrymen in their glorious struggle for liberty; they were engaged in petty business, and bartered the precious chance of freedom once before them for base profits and ignoble ease; and even now were content to live in chains, and kiss the rod that smote them. we returned to the house where we had slept; and, after coffee, in company with our host and his father, the priest, sat down to a meal, in which, for the first time in forty days, they ate meat. i had often remarked the religious observance of fast days among the common people in greece. in travelling there i had more than once offered an egg to my guide on a fast day, but never could get one to accept anything that came so near to animal food, though, by a strange confusion of the principles of religious obligation, perhaps the same man would not have hesitated to commit murder if he had any inducement to do so. mrs. hill, at athens, told me that, upon one occasion, a little girl in her school refused to eat a piece of cake because it was made with eggs. at daylight i was lying on the floor looking through a crevice of the window-shutter at the door of the minaret, waiting for the muezzin's morning cry to prayer. at six o'clock i went out, and finding the wind still in the same quarter, without any apparent prospect of change, determined, at all hazards, to leave the vessel and go on by land. my friend and fellow-passenger was also very anxious to get to smyrna, but would not accompany me, from an indefinite apprehension of plague, robbers, &c. i had heard so many of these rumours, all of which had proved to be unfounded, that i put no faith in any of them. i found a turk who engaged to take me through in fourteen hours; and at seven o'clock i was in my saddle, charged with a dozen letters from captains, supercargoes, and passengers, whom i left behind waiting for a change of wind. my tartar was a big swarthy fellow, with an extent of beard and mustaches unusual even among his bearded countrymen. he was armed with a pair of enormous pistols and a yataghan, and was, altogether, a formidable fellow to look upon. but there was a something about him that i liked. there was a doggedness, a downright stubbornness that seemed honest. i knew nothing about him. i picked him up in the street, and took him in preference to others who offered, because he would not be beaten down in his price. when he saw me seated on my horse he stood by my side a little distance off, and looking at me without opening his lips, drew his belt tight around him, and adjusted his pistols and yataghan. his manner seemed to say that he took charge of me as a bale of goods, to be paid for on safe delivery, and that he would carry me through with fire and sword, if necessary. and now, said i, "let fate do her worst;" i have a good horse under me, and in fourteen hours i shall be in smyrna. "blow winds and crack your cheeks;" i defy you. my tartar led off at a brisk trot, never opening his lips nor turning his head except occasionally to see how i followed him across a stream. at about ten o'clock he turned off from the horse-path into a piece of fine pasture, and, slipping the bridle off his horse, turned him loose to feed. he then did the same with mine, and, spreading my cloak on the ground for me to sit upon, sat down by my side and opened his wallet. his manner seemed to intimate a disposition to throw provisions into a common stock, no doubt expecting the gain to be on his side; but as i could only contribute a couple of rolls of bread which i bought as we rode through the town, i am inclined to think that he considered me rather a sponge. while we were sitting there a travelling party came up, consisting of five turks and three women. the women were on horseback, riding crosswise, though there were so many quilts, cushions, &c., piled on the backs of their horses that they sat rather on seats than on saddles. after a few words of parley with my tartar, the men lifted the women from the horses, taking them in their arms, and, as it were, hauling them off, not very gracefully, but very kindly; and, spreading their quilts on the ground a short distance from us, turned their horses loose to feed, and sat down to make their morning meal. an unusual and happy thing for me the women had their faces uncovered nearly all the time, though they could not well have carried on the process of eating with them muffled up in the usual style. one of the women was old, the other two were exceedingly young; neither of them more than sixteen; each had a child in her arms, and, without any allowance for time and place, both were exceedingly beautiful. i do not say so under the influence of the particular circumstances of our meeting, nor with the view of making an incident of it, but i would have singled them out as such if i had met them in a ballroom at home. i was particularly struck with their delicacy of figure and complexion. notwithstanding their laughing faces, their mirth, and the kind treatment of the men, i could not divest myself of the idea that they were caged birds longing to be free. i could not believe that a woman belonging to a turk could be otherwise than unhappy. unfortunately, i could not understand a word of their language; and as they looked from their turbaned lords to my stiff hat and frockcoat, they seemed to regard me as something the tartar had just caught and was taking up to constantinople as a present to the sultan. i endeavoured to show, however, that i was not the wild thing they took me to be; that i had an eye to admire their beauty, and a heart to feel for their servitude. i tried to procure from them some signal of distress; i did all that i could to get some sign to come to their rescue, and to make myself generally agreeable. i looked sentimentally. this they did not seem to understand at all. i smiled; this seemed to please them better; and there is no knowing to what a point i might have arrived, but my tartar hurried me away; and i parted on the wild plains of turkey with two young and beautiful women, leading almost a savage life, whose personal graces would have made them ornaments in polished and refined society. verily, said i, the turks are not so bad, after all; they have handsome wives, and a handsome wife comes next after chibouks and coffee. i was now reminded at every step of my being in an oriental country by the caravans i was constantly meeting. caravans and camels are more or less associated with all the fairy scenes and glowing pictures of the east. they have always presented themselves to my mind with a sort of poetical imagery, and they certainly have a fine effect in a description or in a picture; but, after all, they are ugly-looking things to meet on the road. i would rather see the two young turk-_esses_ again than all the caravans in the east. the caravan is conducted by a guide on a donkey, with a halter attached to the first camel, and so on from camel to camel through the whole caravan. the camel is an exceedingly ugly animal in his proportions, and there is a dead uniformity in his movement; with a dead, vacant expression in his face, that is really distressing. if a man were dying of thirst in the desert, it would be enough to drive him to distraction to look in the cool, unconcerned, and imperturbable face of his camel. but their value is inestimable in a country like this, where there are no carriage roads, and where deserts and drought present themselves in every direction. one of the camel scenes, the encampment, is very picturesque, the camels arranged around on their knees in a circle, with their heads to the centre, and the camel-drivers with their bales piled up within; and i was struck with another scene; we came to the borders of a stream, which it was necessary to cross in a boat. the boat was then on the other side, and the boatman and camel driver were trying to get on board some camels. when we came up they had got three on board, down on their knees in the bottom of the boat, and were then in the act of coercing the fourth. the poor brute was frightened terribly; resisted with all his might, and put forth most piteous cries; i do not know a more distressing noise than the cry of a brute suffering from fear; it seems to partake of the feeling that causes it, and carries with it something fearful; but the cries of the poor brute were vain; they got him on board, and in the same way urged on board three others. they then threw in the donkey, and seven camels and the donkey were so stowed in the bottom of the boat, that they did not take up much more room than calves on board of our country boats. in the afternoon i met another travelling party of an entirely different description. if before i had occasionally any doubts or misgivings as to the reality of my situation; if sometimes it seemed to be merely a dream, that it could not be that i was so far from home, wandering alone on the plains of asia, with a guide whom i never saw till that morning, whose language i could not understand, and upon whose faith i could not rely; if the scenes of turbaned turks, of veiled women, of caravans and camels, of graveyards with their mourning cypress and thousands of tombstones, where every trace of the cities which supplied them with their dead had entirely disappeared; if these and the other strange scenes around me would seem to be the mere creations of a roving imagination, the party which i met now was so marked in its character, so peculiar to an oriental country, and to an oriental country only, that it roused me from my waking dreams, fixed my wandering thoughts, and convinced me, beyond all peradventure, that i was indeed far from home, among a people "whose thoughts are not as our thoughts, and whose ways are not as our ways;" in short, in a land where ladies are not the omnipotent creatures that they are with us. this party was no other than the ladies of a harem. they were all dressed in white, with their white shawls wrapped around their faces, so that they effectually concealed every feature, and could bring to bear only the artillery of their eyes. i found this, however, to be very potent, as it left so much room for the imagination; and it was a very easy matter to make a fatima of every one of them. they were all on horseback, not riding sidewise, but _otherwise_; though i observed, as before, that their saddles were so prepared that their delicate limbs were not subject to that extreme expansion required by the saddle of the rougher sex. they were escorted by a party of armed turks, and followed by a man in frank dress, who, as i after understood, was the physician of the harem. they were thirteen in number, just a baker's dozen, and belonged to a pacha who was making his annual tour of the different posts under his government, and had sent them on before to have the household matters all arranged upon his arrival. and no doubt, also, they were to be in readiness to receive him with their smiles; and if they continued in the same humour in which i saw them, he must have been a happy man who could call them all his own. i had not fairly recovered from the cries of the poor camel when i heard their merry voices: verily, thought i, stopping to catch the last musical notes, there are exceedingly good points about the turks: chibouks, coffee, and as many wives as they please. it made me whistle to think of it. oh, thought i, that some of our ladies could see these things; that some haughty beauty, at whose feet dozens of worthy and amiable young gentlemen are sighing themselves into premature wrinkles and ugliness, might see these things. i am no rash innovator. i would not sweep away the established customs of our state of society. i would not lay my meddling fingers upon the admitted prerogatives of our ladies; but i cannot help asking myself if, in the rapid changes of this turning world, changes which completely alter rocks and the hardest substances of nature, it may not by possibility happen that the tenour of a lady's humour will change. what a goodly spectacle to see those who are never content without a dozen admirers in their train, following by dozens in the train of one man! but i fear me much that this will never be, at least in our day. our system of education is radically wrong. the human mind, says some philosopher, and the gentleman is right, is like the sand upon the shore of the sea. you may write upon it what character you please. _we_ begin by writing upon their innocent unformed minds, that, "born for their use, we live but to oblige them." the consequence is, i will not say what; for i hope to return among them and kiss the rod in some fair hand; but this i do know, that here the "twig is so bent" that they become as gentle, as docile, and as tractable as any domestic animal. i say again, there are many exceeding good points about the turks. at about six o'clock we came in sight of smyrna, on the opposite side of the gulf, and still a long way off. at dusk we were directly opposite the city; and although we had yet to make a long circuit round the head of the gulf, i was revelling in the bright prospect before me. dreams of pulling off my pantaloons; delightful visions of clean sheets and a christian bed flitted before my eyes. yes, said i to my pantaloons and shirt, ye worthy and faithful servants, this night ye shall have rest. while other garments have fallen from me by the way, ye have stuck to me. and thou, my gray pantaloons, little did the neat parisian tailor who made thee think that the strength of his stitching would ever be tested by three weeks' uninterrupted wear; but to-morrow thou shalt go into the hands of a master, who shall sew on thy buttons and sew up thy rents; and thou, my--i was going on with words of the same affectionate import to my shirt, stockings, and drawers, which, however, did not deserve so well of me, for they had in a measure _dropped off_ on the way, when my tartar came to a dead stop before the door of a cabin, dismounted, and made signs to me to do the same. but i began now to have some notions of my own; heretofore i had been perfectly passive; i had always done as i was told, but in sight of smyrna i became restiff. i talked and shouted to him, pointed to the city, and turned my horse as though i was going on alone. my tartar, however, paid no attention to me; he very coolly took off my carpet-bag and carried it into the cabin, lighted his pipe, and sat down by the door, looking at me with the most imperturbable gravity. i had hardly had time to admire his impudence, and to calculate the chances of my being able, alone at night, to cross the many streams which emptied into the gulf, when the wind, which had been rising for some time, became very violent, and the rain began to fall in torrents. with a sigh i bade farewell to the bright visions that had deluded me, gave another sigh to the uncertainty of all human calculations, the cup and the lip, &c., and took refuge in the cabin. what a substitute for the pretty little picture i had drawn! three turks were sitting round a brazier of charcoal frying doughballs. three rugs were spread in three corners of the cabin, and over each of them were the eternal pistols and yataghan. there was nothing there to defend; their miserable lives were not worth taking; why were these weapons there? the turks at first took no notice of me, and i had now to make amends for my backwardness in entering. i resolved to go to work boldly, and at once elbowed among them for a seat around the brazier. the one next me on my right seemed a little struck by my easy ways; he put his hand on his ribs to feel how far my elbow had penetrated, and then took his pipe from his mouth and offered it to me. the ice broken, i smoked the pipe to the last whiff, and handed it to him to be refilled; with all the horrors of dyspepsy before my eyes, i scrambled with them for the last doughball, and, when the attention of all of them was particularly directed toward me, took out my watch, held it over the lamp, and wound it up. i addressed myself particularly to the one who had first taken notice of me, and made myself extremely agreeable by always smoking his pipe. after coffee and half a dozen pipes, he gave me to understand that i was to sleep with him upon his mat, at which i slapped him on the back and cried out, "bono," having heard him use that word apparently with a knowledge of its meaning. i was surprised in the course of the evening to see one of them begin to undress, knowing that such was not the custom of the country, but found that it was only a temporary disrobing for sporting purposes, to hunt fleas and bedbugs; by which i had an opportunity of comparing the turkish with some i had brought with me from greece; and though the turk had great reason to be proud of his, i had no reason to be ashamed of mine. i now began to be drowsy, and should soon have fallen asleep; but the youngest of the party, a sickly and sentimental young man, melancholy and musical, and, no doubt, in love, brought out the common turkish instrument, a sort of guitar, on which he worked with untiring vivacity, keeping time with his head and heels. my friend accompanied him with his voice, and this brought out my tartar, who joined in with groans and grunts which might have waked the dead. but my cup was not yet full. during the musical festival my friend and intended bedfellow took down from a shelf above me a large plaster, which he warmed over the brazier. he then unrolled his turban, took off a plaster from the back of his head, and disclosed a wound, raw, gory, and ghastly, that made my heart sink within me: i knew that the plague was about smyrna; i had heard that it was on this road; i involuntarily recurred to the italian prayer, "save me from the three miseries of the levant: plague, fire, and the dragoman." i shut my eyes; i had slept but two hours the night before; had ridden twelve hours that day on horseback; i drew my cloak around me; my head sank upon my carpet-bag, and i fell asleep, leaving the four turks playing cards on the bottom of a pewter plate. once during the night i was awakened by my bedfellow's mustaches tickling my lips. i turned my back and slept on. in the morning my tartar, with one jerk, stood me upright on the floor, and holding me in that position until i got awake, kicked open the door, and pointed to my horse standing before it ready saddled and bridled. in three hours i was crossing the caravan bridge, a bridge over the beautiful melissus, on the banks of which homer was born; and picking my way among caravans, which for ages have continued to cross this bridge laden with all the riches of the east, i entered the long-looked-for city of smyrna, a city that has braved the reiterated efforts of conflagrations, plagues, and earthquakes; ten times destroyed, and ten times risen from her ruins; the queen of the cities of anatolia; extolled by the ancients as smyrna the lovely, the crown of ionia, the pride of asia. but old things have passed away, and the ancient city now figures only under the head of arrivals in a newspaper, in the words and figures following, that is to say, "brig betsy, baker master, days from smyrna, with figs and raisins to order. mastic dull, opium rising." in half an hour i was in the full enjoyment of a turkish bath; lolled half an hour on a divan, with chibouk and coffee, and came out fresh as if i had spent the last three weeks training for the ring. oh, these turks are luxurious dogs. chibouks, coffee, hot baths, and as many wives as they please. what a catalogue of human enjoyments! but i intend smyrna as a place of rest, and, in charity, give you the benefit, of it. **** chapter ix. first sight of smyrna.--unveiled women.--ruins of ephesus.--ruin, all ruin.--temple of diana.--encounter with a wolf.--love at first sight.--gatherings on the road. (_another letter._) my dear ****, after my bath i returned to my hotel, breakfasted, and sallied out for a walk. it was now about twelve o'clock, sunday--the first sunday after easter--and all the frank population was in the streets. my hotel was in an out-of-the-way quarter, and when, turning a corner, i suddenly found myself in the main street, i was not prepared for the sight that met my eye. paris on a fête day does not present so gay and animated a scene. it was gay, animated, striking, and beautiful, and entirely different from anything i had ever seen in any european city. franks, jews, greeks, turks, and armenians, in their various and striking costumes, were mingled together in agreeable confusion; and making all due allowance for the circumstance that i had for some time been debarred the sight of an unveiled woman, i certainly never saw so much beauty, and i never saw a costume so admirably calculated to set off beauty. at the same time the costume is exceedingly trying to a lady's pretensions. being no better than one of the uninitiated, i shall not venture upon such dangerous ground as a lady's toilet. i will merely refer to that part which particularly struck me, and that is the headdress; no odious broad-brimmed hat; no enormous veils enveloping nose, mouth, and eyes; but simply a large gauze turban, sitting lightly and gracefully on the head, rolled back over the forehead, leaving the whole face completely exposed, and exhibiting clear dark complexions, rosy lips closing over teeth of dazzling whiteness; and then such eyes, large, dark, and rolling. it is matter of history, and it is confirmed by poetry, that "the angelic youths of old, burning for maids of mortal mould, bewildered, left the glorious skies, and lost their heaven for woman's eyes." my dear friend, this is the country where such things happened; the throne of the thunderer, high olympus, is almost in sight, and these are the daughters of the women who worked such miracles. if the age of passion, like the age of chivalry, were not over and for ever gone, if this were not emphatically a bank-note world, i would say of the smyrniotes, above all others, that they are that description of women who could "raise a mortal to the skies, or bring an angel down." and they walk, too, as if conscious of their high pretensions, as if conscious that the reign of beauty is not yet ended; and, under that enchanting turban, charge with the whole artillery of their charms. it is a perfect unmasked battery; nothing can stand before it. i wonder the sultan allows it. the turks are as touchy as tinder; they take fire as quick as any of the old demigods, and a pair of black eyes is at any time enough to put mischief in them. but the turks are a considerate people. they consider that the franks, or rather the greeks, to whom i particularly refer, have periodical fits of insanity that they go mad twice a year during carnival and after lent; and if at such a time a follower of the prophet, accidentally straggling in the frank quarter, should find the current of his blood disturbed, he would sooner die, nay, he would sooner cut off his beard, than hurt a hair of any one of the light heads that he sees flitting before him. there is something remarkable, by-the-way, in the tenacity with which the grecian women have sustained the rights and prerogatives of beauty in defiance of turkish customs and prejudices; while the men have fallen into the habits of their quondam masters, have taken to pipes and coffee, and in many instances to turbans and big trousers, the women have ever gone with their faces uncovered, and to this day one and all eschew the veil of the turkish women. pleased and amused with myself and everything i saw, i moved along unnoticed and unknown, staring, observing, and admiring; among other things, i observed that one of the amiable customs of our own city was in full force here, viz., that of the young gentlemen, with light sticks in their hands, gathering around the door of the fashionable church to stare at the ladies as they came out. i was pleased to find such a mark of civilization in a land of barbarians, and immediately fell into a thing which seemed so much like home; but, in justice to the smyrniote ladies, i must say i cannot flatter myself that i stared a single one out of countenance. but i need not attempt to interest you in smyrna; it is too every-day a place; every cape cod sailor knows it better than i do. i have done all that i could; i have waived the musty reminiscences of its history; i have waived ruins which are said to exist here, and have endeavoured to give you a faint but true picture of its living and existing beauties, of the bright and beautiful scene that broke upon me the first morning of my arrival; and now, if i have not touched you with the beauty of its women, i should despair of doing so by any description of its beautiful climate, its charming environs, and its hospitable society. leave, then, what is, after all, but the city of figs and raisins, and go with me where, by comparison, the foot of civilized man seldom treads; go with me into the desert and solitary places; go with me among the cities of the seven churches of asia; and, first, to the ruins of ephesus. i had been several days expecting a companion to make this tour with me, but, being disappointed, was obliged to set out alone. i was not exactly alone, for i had with me a turk as guide and a greek as cicerone and interpreter, both well mounted and armed to the teeth. we started at two o'clock in the morning, under the light of thousands of stars; and the day broke upon us in a country wild and desolate, as if it were removed thousands of miles from the habitations of men. there was little variety and little incident in our ride. during the whole day it lay through a country decidedly handsome, the soil rich and fertile, but showing with appalling force the fatal effects of misgovernment, wholly uncultivated, and almost wholly uninhabited. indeed, the only habitations were the little turkish coffee-houses and the black tents of the turcomans. these are a wandering tribe, who come out from the desert, and approach comparatively near the abodes of civilization. they are a pastoral people; their riches are their flocks and herds; they lead a wandering life, free as the air they breathe; they have no local attachments; to-day they pitch their tents on the hillside, to-morrow on the plain; and wherever they sit themselves down, all that they have on earth, wife, children, and friends, are immediately around them. there is something primitive, almost patriarchal, in their appearance; indeed, it carries one back to a simple and perhaps a purer age, and you can almost realize that state of society when the patriarch sat in the door of his tent and called in and fed the passing traveller. the general character of the road is such as to prepare one for the scene that awaits him at ephesus; enormous burying-grounds, with thousands of headstones shaded by the mourning cypress, in the midst of a desolate country, where not a vestige of a human habitation is to be seen. they stand on the roadside as melancholy telltales that large towns or cities once existed in their immediate neighbourhood, and that the generations who occupied them have passed away, furnishing fearful evidence of the decrease of the turkish population, and perhaps that the gigantic empire of the ottoman is tottering to its fall. for about three hours before reaching ephesus, the road, crossing a rich and beautiful plain watered by the cayster, lies between two mountains; that on the right leads to the sea, and on the left are the ruins of ephesus. near, and in the immediate vicinity, storks were calmly marching over the plain and building among the ruins; they moved as if seldom disturbed by human footsteps, and seemed to look upon us as intruders upon a spot for a long time abandoned to birds and beasts of prey. about a mile this side are the remains of the turkish city of aysalook, or temple of the moon, a city of comparatively modern date, reared into a brief magnificence out of the ruins of its fallen neighbour. a sharp hill, almost a mountain, rises abruptly from the plain, on the top of which is a ruined fortress, with many ruins of turkish magnificence at the base; broken columns, baths overgrown with ivy, and the remains of a grand mosque, the roof sustained by four granite columns from the temple of diana; the minaret fallen, the mosque deserted; the mussulman no more goes there to pray; bats and owls were building in its lofty roof, and snakes and lizards were crawling over its marble floor. it was late in the afternoon when i arrived at the little coffee-house at aysalook; a caravan had already encamped under some fine old sycamores before the door, preparatory to passing the night. i was somewhat fatigued, and my greek, who had me in charge, was disposed to stop and wait for the morrow; but the fallen city was on the opposite hill at but a short distance, and the shades of evening seemed well calculated to heighten the effect of a ramble among its ruins. in a right line it was not more than half a mile, but we soon found that we could not go directly to it; a piece of low swampy ground lay between, and we had not gone far before our horses sank up to their saddle-girths. we were obliged to retrace our steps, and work our way around by a circuitous route of more than two miles. this, too, added to the effect of our approach. it was a dreary reflection, that a city, whose ports and whose gates had been open to the commerce of the then known world; whose wealth had invited the traveller and sojourner within its walls should lie a ruin upon a hillside, with swamps and morasses extending around it, in sight but out of reach, near but unapproachable. a warning voice seemed to issue from the ruins, "_procul, procul, este profani_," my day is past, my sun is set, i have gone to my grave; pass on, stranger, and disturb not the ashes of the dead. but my turk did not understand latin, and we continued to advance. we moved along in perfect silence, for besides that my turk never spoke, and my greek, who was generally loquacious enough, was out of humour at being obliged to go on, we had enough to do in picking our lonely way. but silence best suited the scene; the sound of the human voice seemed almost a mockery of fallen greatness. we entered by a large and ruined gateway into a place distinctly marked as having been a street, and, from the broken columns strewed on each side, probably having been lined with a colonnade. i let my reins fall upon my horse's neck; he moved about in the slow and desultory way that suited my humour; now sinking to his knees in heaps of rubbish, now stumbling over a corinthian capital, and now sliding over a marble pavement. the whole hillside is covered with ruins to an extent far greater than i expected to find, and they are all of a kind that tends to give a high idea of the ancient magnificence of the city. to me, these ruins appeared to be a confused and shapeless mass; but they have been examined by antiquaries with great care, and the character of many of them identified with great certainty. i had, however, no time for details; and, indeed, the interest of these ruins in my eyes was not in the details. it mattered little to me that this was the stadium and that a fountain; that this was a gymnasium and that a market-place; it was enough to know that the broken columns, the mouldering walls, the grass-grown streets, and the wide-extended scene of desolation and ruin around me were all that remained of one of the greatest cities of asia, one of the earliest christian cities in the world. but what do i say? who does not remember the tumults and confusion raised by demetrius the silversmith, "lest the temple of the great goddess diana should be despised, and her magnificence be destroyed;" and how the people, having caught "caius and aristarchus, paul's companions in travel," rushed with one accord into the theatre, crying out, "great is diana of the ephesians." my dear friend, i sat among the ruins of that theatre; the stillness of death was around me; far as the eye could reach, not a living soul was to be seen save my two companions and a group of lazy turks smoking at the coffee-house in aysalook. a man of strong imagination might almost go wild with the intensity of his own reflections; and do not let it surprise you, that even one like me, brought up among the technicalities of declarations and replications, rebutters and surrebutters, and in nowise given to the illusions of the senses, should find himself roused, and irresistibly hurried back to the time when the shapeless and confused mass around him formed one of the most magnificent cities in the world; when a large and busy population was hurrying through its streets, intent upon the same pleasures and the same business that engage men now; that he should, in imagination, see before him st. paul preaching to the ephesians, shaking their faith in the gods of their fathers, gods made with their own hands; and the noise and confusion, and the people rushing tumultuously up the very steps where he sat; that he should almost hear their cry ringing in his ears, "great is diana of the ephesians;" and then that he should turn from this scene of former glory and eternal ruin to his own far-distant land; a land that the wisest of the ephesians never dreamed of; where the wild man was striving with the wild beast when the whole world rang with the greatness of the ephesian name; and which bids fair to be growing greater and greater when the last vestige of ephesus shall be gone and its very site unknown. but where is the temple of the great diana, the temple two hundred and twenty years in building; the temple of one hundred and twenty-seven columns, each column the gift of a king? can it be that the temple of the "great goddess diana," that the ornament of asia, the pride of ephesus, and one of the seven wonders of the world, has gone, disappeared, and left not a trace behind? as a traveller, i would fain be able to say that i have seen the ruins of this temple; but, unfortunately, i am obliged to limit myself by facts. its site has of course engaged the attention of antiquaries. i am no skeptic in these matters, and am disposed to believe all that my cicerone tells me. you remember the countryman who complained to his minister that he never gave him any latin in his sermons; and when the minister answered that he would not understand it, the countryman replied that he paid for the best, and ought to have it. i am like that honest countryman; but my cicerone understood himself better than the minister; he knew that i paid him for the best; he knew what was expected from him, and that his reputation was gone for ever if, in such a place as ephesus, he could not point out the ruins of the great temple of diana. he accordingly had _his_ temple, which he stuck to with as much pertinacity as if he had built it himself; but i am sorry to be obliged to say, in spite of his authority and my own wish to believe him, that the better opinion is, that now not a single stone is to be seen. topographers have fixed the site on the plain, near the gate of the city which opened to the sea. the sea, which once almost washed the walls, has receded or been driven back for several miles. for many years a new soil has been accumulating, and all that stood on the plain, including so much of the remains of the temple as had not been plundered and carried away by different conquerors, is probably now buried many feet under its surface. it was dark when i returned to aysalook. i had remarked, in passing, that several caravans had encamped there, and on my return found the camel-drivers assembled in the little coffee-house in which i was to pass the night. i soon saw that there were so many of us that we should make a tight fit in the sleeping part of the khan, and immediately measured off space enough to fit my body, allowing turning and kicking room. i looked with great complacency upon the light slippers of the turks, which they always throw off, too, when they go to sleep, and made an ostentatious display of a pair of heavy iron-nailed boots, and, in lying down, gave one or two preliminary thumps to show them that i was restless in my movements, and, if they came too near me these iron-nailed boots would be uncomfortable neighbours. and here i ought to have spent half the night in musing upon the strange concatenation of circumstances which had broken up a quiet practising attorney, and sent him a straggler from a busy, money-getting land, to meditate among the ruins of ancient cities, and sleep pellmell with turbaned turks. but i had no time for musing; i was amazingly tired; i looked at the group of turks in one corner, and regretted that i could not talk with them; thought of the tower of babel and the wickedness of man, which brought about a confusion of tongues; of camel-drivers, and arabian nights' entertainments; of home, and my own comfortable room in the third story; brought my boot down with a thump that made them all start, and in five minutes was asleep. in the morning i again went over to the ruins. daylight, if possible, added to their effect; and a little thing occurred, not much in itself, but which, under the circumstances, fastened itself upon my mind in such a way that i shall never forget it. i had read that here, in the stillness of the night, the jackal's cry was heard; that, if a stone was rolled, a scorpion or lizard slipped from under it; and, while picking our way slowly along the lower part of the city, a wolf of the largest size came out above, as if indignant at being disturbed in his possessions. he moved a few paces toward us with such a resolute air that my companions both drew their pistols; then stopped, and gazed at us deliberately as we were receding from him, until, as if satisfied that we intended to leave his dominions, he turned and disappeared among the ruins. it would have made a fine picture; the turk first, then the greek, each with a pistol in his hand, then myself, all on horseback, the wolf above us, the valley, and the ruined city. i feel my inability to give you a true picture of these ruins. indeed, if i could lay before you every particular, block for block, fragment for fragment, here a column and there a column, i could not convey a full idea of the desolation that marks the scene. to the christian, the ruins of ephesus carry with them a peculiar interest; for here, upon the wreck of heathen temples, was established one of the earliest christian churches; but the christian church has followed the heathen temple, and the worshippers of the true god have followed the worshippers of the great goddess diana; and in the city where paul preached, and where, in the words of the apostle, "much people were gathered unto the lord," now not a solitary christian dwells. verily, in the prophetic language of inspiration, the "candlestick is removed from its place;" a curse seems to have fallen upon it, men shun it, not a human being is to be seen among its ruins; and ephesus, in faded glory and fallen grandeur, is given up to birds and beasts of prey, a monument and a warning to nations. from ephesus i went to scala nova, handsomely situated on the shore of the sea, and commanding a fine view of the beautiful island of samos, distant not more than four miles. i had a letter to a greek merchant there, who received me kindly, and introduced me to the turkish governor. the governor, as usual, was seated upon a divan, and asked us to take seats beside him. we were served with coffee and pipes by two handsome greek slaves, boys about fourteen, with long hair hanging down their necks, and handsomely dressed; who, after serving us, descended from the platform, and waited with folded arms until we had finished. soon after a third guest came, and a third lad, equally handsome and equally well dressed, served him in the same manner. this is the style of the turkish grandees, a slave to every guest. i do not know to what extent it is carried, but am inclined to think that, in the present instance, if one or two more guests had happened to come in, my friend's retinue of slaves would have fallen short. the governor asked me from what country i came, and who was my king; and when i told him that we had no king, but a president, he said, very graciously, that our president and the grand seignior were very good friends; a compliment which i acknowledged with all becoming humility. wanting to show off a little, i told him that we were going to fight the french, and he said we should certainly whip them if we could get the grand seignior to help us. i afterward called on my own account upon the english consul. the consuls in these little places are originals. they have nothing to do, but they have the government arms blazoned over their doors, and strut about in cocked hats and regimentals, and shake their heads, and look knowing, and talk about their government; they do not know what the government will think, &c., when half the time their government hardly knows of the existence of its worthy representatives. this was an old maltese, who spoke french and italian. he received me very kindly, and pressed me to stay all night. i told him that i was not an englishman, and had no claim upon his hospitality; but he said that made no difference; that he was consul for all civilized nations, among which he did me the honour to include mine. at three o'clock i took leave of the consul. my greek friend accompanied me outside the gate, where my horses were waiting for me; and, at parting, begged me to remember that i had a friend, who hardly knew what pleasure was except in serving me. i told him that the happiness of my life was not complete before i met him; we threw ourselves into each other's arms, and, after a two hours' acquaintance, could hardly tear away from each other's embraces. such is the force of sympathy between congenial spirits. my friend was a man about fifty, square built, broad shouldered, and big mustached; and the beauty of it was, that neither could understand a word the other said; and all this touching interchange of sentiment had to pass through my mustached, big-whiskered, double-fisted, six-feet interpreter. at four o'clock we set out on our return; at seven we stopped in a beautiful valley surrounded by mountains, and on the sides of the mountains were a number of turcomans tents. the khan was worse than any i had yet seen. it had no floor and no mat. the proprietor of the khan, if such a thing, consisting merely of four mud walls with a roof of branches, which seemed to have been laid there by the winds, could be said to have a proprietor, was uncommonly sociable; he set before me my supper, consisting of bread and yort--a preparation of milk--and appeared to be much amused at seeing me eat. he asked my guide many questions about me; examined my pistols, took off his turban, and put my hat upon his shaved head, which transformed him from a decidedly bold, slashing-looking fellow, into a decidedly sneaking-looking one. i had certainly got over all fastidiousness in regard to eating, drinking, and sleeping; but i could not stand the vermin at this khan. in the middle of the night i rose and went out of doors; it was a brilliant starlight night, and, as the bare earth was in any case to be my bed, i exchanged the mud floor of my khan for the greensward and the broad canopy of heaven. my turk was sleeping on the ground, about a hundred yards from the house, with his horse grazing around him. i nestled close to him, and slept perhaps two hours. toward morning i was awakened by the cold, and, with the selfishness of misery, i began punching my turk under the ribs to wake him. this was no easy matter; but, after a while, i succeeded, got him to saddle the horses, and in a few minutes we were off, my greek not at all pleased with having his slumbers so prematurely disturbed. at about two o'clock we passed some of the sultan's _volunteers_. these were about fifty men chained together by the wrists and ankles, who had been chased, run down, and caught in some of the villages, and were now on their way to constantinople, under a guard, to be trained as soldiers. i could but smile as i saw them, not at them, for, in truth, there was nothing in their condition to excite a smile, but at the recollection of an article i had seen a few days before in a european paper, which referred to the new levies making by the sultan, and the spirit with which his subjects entered into the service. they were a speaking comment upon european insight into turkish politics. but, without more ado, suffice it to say, that at about four o'clock i found myself at the door of my hotel, my outer garments so covered with creeping things that my landlord, a prudent swiss, with many apologies, begged me to shake myself before going into the house; and my nether garments so stained with blood, that i looked as if a corps of the sultan's regulars had pricked me with their bayonets. my enthusiasm on the subject of the seven churches was in no small degree abated, and just at that moment i was willing to take upon trust the condition of the others, that all that was foretold of them in the scriptures had come to pass. i again betook me to the bath, and, in thinking of the luxury of my repose, i feel for you, and come to a full stop. **** chapter x. position of smyrna.--consular privileges.--the case of the lover.--end of the love affair.--the missionary's wife.--the casino.--only a greek row.--rambles in smyrna.--the armenians.--domestic enjoyments. but i must go back a little, and make the amende honourable, for, in truth, ghiaour ismir, or infidel smyrna, with its wild admixture of european and asiatic population, deserves better than the rather cavalier notice contained in my letter. before reaching it i had remarked its exceeding beauty of position, chosen as it is with that happy taste which distinguished the greeks in selecting the sites of their ancient cities, on the declivity of a mountain running down to the shore of the bay, with houses rising in terraces on its sides; its domes and minarets, interspersed with cypresses, rising above the tiers of houses, and the summit of the hill crowned with a large solitary castle. it was the first large turkish city i had seen, and it differed, too, from all other turkish cities in the strong foothold obtained there by europeans. indeed, remembering it as a place where often, and within a very few years, upon a sudden outbreaking of popular fury, the streets were deluged with christian blood, i was particularly struck, not only with the air of confidence and security, but, in fact, with the bearing of superiority assumed by the "christian dog!" among the followers of the prophet. directly on the bay is a row of large houses running along the whole front of the city, among which are seen emblazoned over the doors the arms of most of the foreign consuls, including the american. by the treaties of the porte with christian powers, the turkish tribunals have no jurisdiction of matters touching the rights of foreign residents; and all disputes between these, and even criminal offences, fall under the cognizance of their respective consuls. this gives the consuls in all the maritime ports of turkey great power and position; and all over the levant they are great people; but at smyrna they are far more important than ambassadors and ministers at the european capitals; and, with their janisaries and their appearance on all public occasions in uniform, are looked up to by the levantines somewhat like the consuls sent abroad under the roman empire, and by the turks as almost sultans. the morning after my arrival i delivered letters of introduction to mr. offley, the american consul, a native of philadelphia, thirty years resident in smyrna, and married to an armenian lady, mr. langdon, a merchant of boston, and mr. styth, of baltimore, of the firm of issaverdens, styth, and company; one to mr. jetter, a german missionary, whose lady told me, while her husband was reading it, that she had met me in the street the day before, and on her return home told him that an american had just arrived. i was curious to know the mark by which she recognised me as an american, being rather dubious whether it was by reason of anything praiseworthy or the reverse; but she could not tell. i trust the reader has not forgotten the victim of the tender passion who, in the moment of my leaving athens, had reposed in my sympathizing bosom the burden of his hopes and fears. at the very first house in which i was introduced to the female members of the family, i found making a morning call the lady who had made such inroads upon his affections. i had already heard her spoken of as being the largest fortune, and, par consequence, the greatest belle in smyrna, and i hailed it as a favourable omen that i accidentally made her acquaintance so soon after my arrival. i made my observations, and could not help remarking that she was by no means pining away on account of the absence of my friend. i was almost indignant at her heartless happiness, and, taking advantage of an opportunity, introduced his name, hoping to see a shade come over her, and, perhaps, to strike her pensive for two or three minutes; but her comment was a deathblow to my friend's prospects and my mediation: "poor m.!" and all present repeated "poor m.!" with a portentous smile, and the next moment had forgotten his existence. i went away in the full conviction that it was all over with "poor m.!" and murmuring to myself, put not your trust in woman, i dined, and in the afternoon called with my letter of introduction upon his friend the rev. mr. brewer, and mr. brewer's comment on reading it was about equal to the lady's "poor m.!" he asked me in what condition i left our unfortunate friend. i told him his _leg_ was pretty bad, though he continued to hobble about; but mr. brewer interrupted me; he did not mean his leg, but, he hesitated and with reluctance, as if he wished to avoid speaking of it outright, added, _his mind_. i did not comprehend him, and, from his hesitation and delicacy, imagined that he was alluding to the lover's heart; but he cleared the matter up, and to my no small surprise, by telling me that, some time before he left smyrna, "poor m." had shown such strong marks of aberration of intellect, that his friends had deemed it advisable to put him under the charge of a brother missionary and send him home, and that they hoped great benefit from travel and change of scene. i was surprised, and by no means elevated in my own conceit, when i found that i had been made the confidant of a crazy man. mr. hill, not knowing of any particular intimacy between us, and probably not wishing to publish his misfortune unnecessarily, had not given me the slightest intimation of it, and i had not discovered it. i had considered his communication to me strange, and his general conduct not less so, but i had no idea that it was anything more than the ordinary derangement which every man is said to labour under when in love. i then told mr. brewer my story, and the commission with which i was intrusted, which he said was perfectly characteristic, his malady being a sort of monomania on the subject of the tender passion; and every particle of interest which i might nevertheless have taken in the affair, in connecting his derangement in some way with the lady in question, was destroyed by the volatile direction of his passion, sometimes to one object and sometimes with another; and in regard to the lady to whom i was accredited, he had never shown any penchant toward her in particular, and must have given me her name because it happened to be the first that suggested itself at the moment of his unburdening himself to me. fortunately, i had not exposed myself by any demonstrations in behalf of my friend, so i quietly dropped him. on leaving mr. brewer i suggested a doubt whether i could be regarded as an acquaintance upon the introduction of a crazy man; but we had gone so far that it was decided, for that specific purpose, to admit his sanity. i should not mention these particulars if there was any possibility of their ever wounding the feelings of him to whom they refer; but he is now beyond the reach either of calumny or praise, for about a year after i heard, with great regret, that his malady had increased, accompanied with a general derangement of health; and, shortly after his return home, he died. my intercourse with the franks was confined principally to my own countrymen, whose houses were open to me at all times; and i cannot help mentioning the name of mr. van lennup, the dutch consul, the great friend of the missionaries in the levant, who had been two years resident in the united states, and was intimately acquainted with many of my friends at home. society in smyrna is purely mercantile; and having been so long out of the way of it, it was actually grateful to me once more to hear men talking with all their souls about cotton, stocks, exchanges, and other topics of _interest_, in the literal meaning of the word. sometimes lounging in a merchant's counting-room, i took up an american paper, and heard boston, and new-york, and baltimore, and cotton, and opium, and freight, and quarter per cent. less bandied about, until i almost fancied myself at home; and when this became too severe i had a resource with the missionaries, gentlemanly and well-educated men, well acquainted with the countries and the places worth visiting, with just the books i wanted, and, i had almost said, the wives; i mean with wives always glad to see a countryman, and to talk about home. there is something exceedingly interesting in a missionary's wife. a soldier's is more so, for she follows him to danger and, perhaps, to death; but glory waits him if he falls, and while she weeps she is proud. before i went abroad the only missionary i ever knew i despised, for i believed him to be a canting hypocrite; but i saw much of them abroad, and made many warm friends among them; and, i repeat it, there is something exceedingly interesting in a missionary's wife. she who had been cherished as a plant that the winds must not breathe on too rudely, recovers from the shock of a separation from her friends to find herself in a land of barbarians, where her loud cry of distress can never reach their ears. new ties twine round her heart, and the tender and helpless girl changes her very nature, and becomes the staff and support of the man. in his hours of despondency she raises his drooping spirits; she bathes his aching head; she smooths his pillow of sickness; and, after months of wearisome silence, i have entered her dwelling, and her heart instinctively told her that i was from the same land. i have been welcomed as a brother; answered her hurried, and anxious, and eager questions; and sometimes, when i have known any of her friends at home, i have been for a moment more than recompensed for all the toils and privations of a traveller in the east. i have left her dwelling burdened with remembrances to friends whom she will perhaps never see again. i bore a letter to a father, which was opened by a widowed mother. where i could, i have discharged every promise to a missionary's wife; but i have some yet undischarged which i rank among the sacred obligations of my life. it is true, the path of the missionary is not strewed with roses; but often, in leaving his house at night, and following my guide with a lantern through the narrow streets of a turkish city, i have run over the troubles incident to every condition of life, not forgetting those of a traveller, and have taken to whistling, and, as i stumbled into the gate of an old convent, have murmured involuntarily, "after all, these missionaries are happy fellows." every stranger, upon his arrival in smyrna, is introduced at the casino. i went there the first time to a concert. it is a large building, erected by a club of merchants, with a suite of rooms on the lower floor, billiards, cards, reading and sitting room, and a ball room above covering the whole. the concert was given in the ballroom, and, from what i had seen in the streets, i expected an extraordinary display of beauty; but i was much disappointed. the company consisted only of the aristocracy or higher mercantile classes, the families of the gentlemen composing the club, and excluded the greek and smyrniote women, among whom is found a great portion of the beauty of the place. a patent of nobility in smyrna, as in our own city, is founded upon the time since the possessor gave up selling goods, or the number of consignments he receives in the course of a year. the casino, by-the-way, is a very aristocratic institution, and sometimes knotty questions occur in its management. captains of merchant vessels are not admitted. a man came out as owner of a vessel and cargo, and also master: _quere_, could he be admitted? his consignee said yes; but the majority, not being interested in the sales of his cargo, went for a strict construction, and excluded him. the population of smyrna, professing three distinct religions, observe three different sabbaths; the mohammedans friday, the jews saturday, and the christians sunday, so that there are only four days in the week in which all the shops and bazars are open together, and there are so many fête days that these are much broken in upon. the most perfect toleration prevails, and the religious festivals of the greeks often terminate in midnight orgies which debase and degrade the christian in the eyes of the pious mussulman. on saturday morning i was roused from my bed by a loud cry and the tramp of a crowd through the street. i ran to my window, and saw a greek tearing down the street at full speed, and another after him with a drawn yataghan in his hand; the latter gained ground at every step, and, just as he turned the corner, stabbed the first in the back. he returned with the bloody poniard in his hand, followed by the crowd, and rushed into a little greek drinking-shop next door to my hotel. there was a loud noise and scuffling inside, and presently i saw him pitched out headlong into the street, and the door closed upon him. in a phrensy of passion he rushed back, and drove his yataghan with all his force into the door, stamped against it with his feet, and battered it with stones; unable to force it open, he sat down on the opposite side of the street, occasionally renewing his attack upon the door, talking violently with those inside, and sometimes the whole crowd laughing loud at the answers from within. nobody attempted to interfere. giusseppi, my host, said it was only a row among the greeks. the greek kept the street in an uproar for more than an hour, when he was secured and taken into custody. after dinner, under the escort of a merchant, a jew from trieste residing at the same hotel, i visited the jews' quarter. the jews of smyrna are the descendants of that unhappy people who were driven out from spain by the bloody persecutions of ferdinand and isabel; they still talk spanish in their families; and though comparatively secure, now, as ever, they live the victims of tyranny and oppression, ever toiling and accumulating, and ever fearing to exhibit the fruits of their industry, lest they should excite the cupidity of a rapacious master. their quarter is by far the most miserable in smyrna, and within its narrow limits are congregated more than ten thousand of "the accursed people." it was with great difficulty that i avoided wounding the feelings of my companion by remarking its filthy and disgusting appearance; and wishing to remove my unfavourable impression by introducing me to some of the best families first, he was obliged to drag me through the whole range of its narrow and dirty streets. from the external appearance of the tottering houses, i did not expect anything better within; and, out of regard to his feelings, was really sorry that i had accepted his offer to visit his people; but with the first house i entered i was most agreeably disappointed. ascending outside by a tottering staircase to the second story, within was not only neatness and comfort, but positive luxury. at one end of a spacious room was a raised platform opening upon a large latticed window, covered with rich rugs and divans along the wall. the master of the house was taking his afternoon siesta, and while we were waiting for him i expressed to my gratified companion my surprise and pleasure at the unexpected appearance of the interior. in a few minutes the master entered, and received us with the greatest hospitality and kindness. he was about thirty, with the high square cap of black felt, without any rim or border, long silk gown tied with a sash around the waist, a strongly-marked jewish face, and amiable expression. in the house of the israelite the welcome is the same as in that of the turk; and seating himself, our host clapped his hands together, and a boy entered with coffee and pipes. after a little conversation he clapped his hands again; and hearing a clatter of wooden shoes, i turned my head and saw a little girl coming across the room, mounted on high wooden sabots almost like stilts, who stepped up the platform, and with quite a womanly air took her seat on the divan. i looked at her, and thought her a pert, forward little miss, and was about asking her how old she was, when my companion told me she was our host's wife. i checked myself, but in a moment felt more than ever tempted to ask the same question; and, upon inquiring, learned that she had attained the respectable age of thirteen, and had been then two years a wife. our host told us that she had cost him a great deal of money, and the expense consisted in the outlay necessary for procuring a divorce from another wife. he did not like the other one at all; his father had married him to her, and he had great difficulty in prevailing on his father to go to the expense of getting him freed. this wife was also provided by his father, and he did not like her much at first; he had never seen her till the day of marriage, but now he began to like her very well, though she cost him a great deal for ornaments. all this time we were looking at her, and she, with a perfectly composed expression, was listening to the conversation as my companion interpreted it, and following with her eyes the different speakers. i was particularly struck with the cool, imperturbable expression of her face, and could not help thinking that, on the subject of likings and dislikings, young as she was, she might have some curious notions of her own; and since we had fallen into this little disquisition on family matters, and thinking that he had gone so far himself that i might waive delicacy, i asked him whether she liked him; he answered in that easy tone of confidence of which no idea can be given in words, "oh yes;" and when i intimated a doubt, he told me i might ask herself. but i forbore, and did not ask her, and so lost the opportunity of learning from both sides the practical operation of matches made by parents. our host sustained them; the plan saved a great deal of trouble, and wear and tear of spirit; prudent parents always selected such as were likely to suit each other; and being thrown together very young, they insensibly assimilated in tastes and habits; he admitted that he had missed it the first time, but he had hit it the second, and allowed that the system would work much better if the cost of procuring a divorce was not so great. with the highest respect, and a pressing invitation to come again, seconded by his wife, i took my leave of the self-satisfied israelite. from this we went into several other houses, in all of which the interior belied, in the same manner, their external appearance. i do not say that they were gorgeous or magnificent, but they were clean, comfortable, and striking by their oriental style of architecture and furniture; and being their sabbath, the women were in their best attire, with their heads, necks, and wrists adorned with a profusion of gold and silver ornaments. several of the houses had libraries, with old hebrew books, in which an old rabbi was reading or sometimes instructing children. in the last house a son was going through his days of mourning on the death of his father. he was lying in the middle of the floor, with his black cap on, and covered with a long black cloak. twenty or thirty friends were sitting on the floor around him, who had come in to condole with him. when we entered, neither he nor any of his friends took any notice of us, except to make room on the floor. we sat down with them. it was growing dark, and the light broke dimly through the latticed windows upon the dusky figures of the mourning israelites; and there they sat, with stern visages and long beards, the feeble remnant of a fallen people, under scorn and contumely, and persecution and oppression, holding on to the traditions received from their fathers, practising in the privacy of their houses the same rites as when the priests bore aloft the ark of the covenant, and out of the very dust in which they lie still looking for the restoration of their temporal kingdom. in a room adjoining sat the widow of the deceased, with a group of women around her, all perfectly silent; and they too took no notice of us either when we entered or when we went away. the next day the shops were shut, and the streets again thronged as on the day of my arrival. i went to church at the english chapel attached to the residence of the british consul, and heard a sermon from a german missionary. i dined at one o'clock, and, in company with mine host of the pension suisse, and a merchant of smyrna resident there, worked my way up the hill through the heart of the turks' quarter to the old castle standing alone and in ruins on its summit. we rested a little while at the foot of the castle, and looked over the city and the tops of the minarets upon the beautiful bay, and descending in the rear of the castle, we came to the river meles winding through a deep valley at the foot of the hill. this stream was celebrated in grecian poetry three thousand years ago. it was the pride of the ancient smyrneans, once washed the walls of the ancient city, and tradition says that on its banks the nymph critheis gave birth to homer. we followed it in its winding course down the valley, murmuring among evergreens. over it in two places were the ruins of aqueducts which carried water to the old city, and in one or two places it turns an overshot mill. on each side, at intervals along its banks, were oriental summer-houses, with verandahs, and balconies, and latticed windows. approaching the caravan bridge we met straggling parties, and by degrees fell into a crowd of people, franks, europeans of every nation, greeks, turks, and armenians, in all their striking costumes, sitting on benches under the shade of noble old sycamores, or on the grass, or on the river's brink, and moving among them were turks cleanly dressed, with trays of refreshments, ices, and sherbet. there was an unusual collection of greek and smyrniote women, and an extraordinary display of beauty; none of them wore hats, but the greek women a light gauze turban, and the smyrniotes a small piece of red cloth, worked with gold, secured on the top of the head by the folds of the hair, with a long tassel hanging down from it. opposite, and in striking contrast, the great turkish burying-ground, with its thick grove of gloomy cypress, approached the bank of the river. i crossed over and entered the burying-ground, and penetrated the grove of funereal trees; all around were the graves of the dead; thousands and tens of thousands who but yesterday were like the gay crowd i saw flitting through the trees, were sleeping under my feet. over some of the graves the earth was still fresh, and they who lay in them were already forgotten; but no, they were not forgotten; woman's love still remembered them, for turkish women, with long white shawls wrapped around their faces, were planting over them myrtle and flowers, believing that they were paying an acceptable tribute to the souls of the dead. i left the burying-ground and plunged once more among the crowd. it may be that memory paints these scenes brighter than they were; but, if that does not deceive me, i never saw at paris or vienna so gay and beautiful a scene, so rich in landscape and scenery, in variety of costume, and in beauty of female form and feature. we left the caravan bridge early to visit the armenian quarter, this being the best day for seeing them collectively at home; and i had not passed through the first street of their beautiful quarter before i was forcibly struck with the appearance of a people different from any i had yet seen in the east. the armenians are one of the oldest nations of the civilized world, and, amid all the revolutions of barbarian war and despotism, have maintained themselves as a cultivated people. from the time when their first chieftain fled from babylon, his native place, to escape from the tyranny of belus, king of assyria, this warlike people, occupying a mountainous country near the sources of the tigris and euphrates, battled the assyrians, medes, the persians, macedonians, and arabians, until their country was depopulated by the shah of persia. less than two millions are all that now remain of that once powerful people. commerce has scattered them, like the israelites, among all the principal nations of europe and asia, and everywhere they have preserved their stern integrity and uprightness of character. the armenian merchant is now known in every quarter of the globe, and everywhere distinguished by superior cultivation, honesty, and manners. as early as the fourth century the armenians embraced christianity; they never had any sympathy with, and always disliked and avoided, the greek christians, and constantly resisted the endeavours of the popes to bring them within the catholic pale. their doctrine differs from that of the orthodox chiefly in their admitting only one nature in christ, and believing the holy spirit to issue from the father alone. their first abode, mount ararat, is even at the present day the centre of their religious and political union. they are distinguished by a patriarchal simplicity in their domestic manners; and it was the beautiful exhibition of this trait in their character that struck me on entering their quarter at smyrna. in style and appearance their quarter is superior to any in smyrna; their streets are broad and clean; their houses large, in good order, and well painted; oriental in their style of architecture, with large balconies and latticed windows, and spacious halls running through the centre, floored with small black and white stones laid in the form of stars and other fanciful devices, and leading to large gardens in the rear, ornamented with trees, vines, shrubs, and flowers, then in full bloom and beauty. all along the streets the doors of the houses were thrown wide open, and the old armenian "knickerbockers" were sitting outside or in the doorway, in their flowing robes, grave and sedate, with long pipes and large amber mouth pieces, talking with their neighbours, while the younger members were distributed along the hall or strolling through the garden, and children climbing the trees and arbours. it was a fête day for the whole neighbourhood. all was social, and cheerful, and beautiful, without being gay or noisy, and all was open to the observation of every passer-by. my companion, an old resident of smyrna, stopped with me at the house of a large banker, whose whole family, with several neighbours young and old, were assembled in the hall. in the street the armenian ladies observe the turkish custom of wearing the shawl tied around the face so that it is difficult to see their features, though i had often admired the dignity and grace of their walk, and their propriety of manners; but in the house there was a perfect absence of all concealment; and i have seldom seen more interesting persons than the whole group of armenian ladies, and particularly the young armenian girls. they were not so dark, and wanted the bold, daring beauty of the greek, but altogether were far more attractive. the great charm of their appearance was an exceeding modesty, united with affability and elegance of manner; in fact, there was a calm and quiet loveliness about them that would have made any one of them dangerous to be shut up alone with, i.e., if a man could talk with her without an interpreter. this was one of the occasions when i numbered among the pains of life the confusion of tongues. but, notwithstanding this, the whole scene was beautiful; and, with all the simplicity of a dutchman's fireside, the style of the house, the pebbled hall, the garden, the foliage, and the oriental costumes, threw a charm around it which now, while i write, comes over me again. chapter xi. an american original.--moral changes in turkey.--wonders of steam navigation.--the march of mind.--classic localities.--sestos and abydos.--seeds of pestilence. on my return from ephesus i heard of the arrival in smyrna of two american travellers, father and son, from egypt; and the same day, at mr. langdon's, i met the father, dr. n. of mississippi. the doctor had made a long and interesting tour in egypt and the holy land, interrupted, however, by a severe attack of ophthalmia on the nile, from which he had not yet recovered, and a narrow escape from the plague at cairo. he was about fifty-five, of a strong, active, and inquiring mind; and the circumstances which had brought him to that distant country were so peculiar, that i cannot help mentioning them. he had passed all his life on the banks of the mississippi, and for many years had busied himself with speculations in regard to the creation of the world. year after year he had watched the deposites and the formation of soil on the banks of the mississippi, had visited every mound and mountain indicating any peculiar geological formation, and, unable to find any data to satisfy him, he started from his plantation directly for the banks of the nile. he possessed all the warm, high-toned feelings of the southerner, but a thorough contempt for the usages of society and everything like polish of manners. he came to new-york and embarked for havre. he had never been even to new-york before; was utterly ignorant of any language but his own; despised all foreigners, and detested their "jabber." he worked his way to marseilles with the intention of embarking for alexandria, but was taken sick, and retraced his steps directly to his plantation on the mississippi. recovering, he again set out for the nile the next year, accompanied by his son, a young man of about twenty-three, acquainted with foreign languages, and competent to profit by foreign travel. this time he was more successful, and, when i saw him, he had rambled over the pyramids and explored the ruined temples of egypt. the result of his observations had been to fortify his preconceived notions, that the age of this world far exceeds six thousand years. indeed, he was firmly persuaded that some of the temples of the nile were built more than six thousand years ago. he had sent on to smyrna enormous boxes of earth and stones, to be shipped to america, and was particularly curious on the subject of trees, having examined and satisfied himself as to the age of the olive-trees in the garden of gethsemane and the cedars of lebanon. i accompanied him to his hotel, where i was introduced to his son; and i must not forget another member of this party, who is, perhaps, already known to some of my readers by the name of paolo nuozzo, or, more familiarly, paul. this worthy individual had been travelling on the nile with two hungarian counts, who discharged him, or whom he discharged (for they differed as to the fact), at cairo. dr. n. and his son were in want, and paul entered their service as dragoman and superintendent of another man, who, they said, was worth a dozen of paul. i have a very imperfect recollection of my first interview with this original. indeed, i hardly remember him at all until my arrival at constantinople, and have only an indistinct impression of a dark, surly-looking, mustached man following at the heels of dr. n., and giving crusty answers in horrible english. before my visit to ephesus i had talked with a prussian baron of going up by land to constantinople; but on my return i found myself attacked with a recurrence of an old malady, and determined to wait for the steamboat. the day before i left smyrna, accompanied by mr. o. langdon, i went out to boujac to dine with mr. styth. the great beauty of smyrna is its surrounding country. within a few miles there are three villages, bournabat, boujac, and sediguey, occupied by franks, of which boujac is the favourite. the franks are always looking to the time of going out to their country houses, and consider their residences in their villages the most agreeable part of their year; and, from what i saw of it, nothing can be more agreeable. not more than half of them had yet moved out, but after dinner we went round and visited all who were there. they are all well acquainted, and, living in a strange and barbarous country, are drawn closer together than they would be in their own. every evening there is a reunion at some of their houses, and there is among them an absence of all unnecessary form and ceremony, without which there can be no perfect enjoyment of the true pleasures of social intercourse. these villages, too, are endeared to them as places of refuge during the repeated and prolonged visitations of the plague, the merchant going into the city every morning and returning at night, and during the whole continuance of the disease avoiding to touch any member of his family. the whole region of country around their villages is beautiful in landscape and scenery, producing the choicest flowers and fruits; the fig tree particularly growing with a luxuriance unknown in any other part of the world. but the whole of this beautiful region lies waste and uncultivated, although, if the government could be relied on, holding out, by reason of its fertility, its climate, and its facility of access, particularly now by means of steamboats, far greater inducements to european emigration than any portion of our own country. i will not impose upon the reader my speculations on this subject; my notes are burdened with them; but, in my opinion, the old world is in process of regeneration, and at this moment offers greater opportunities for enterprise than the new. on monday, accompanied by dr. n. and his son and paolo nuozzo, i embarked on board the steamboat maria dorothea for constantinople; and here follows another letter, and the last, dated from the capital of the eastern empire. constantinople, may ----, . my dear ****, oh you who hope one day to roam in eastern lands, to bend your curious eyes upon the people warmed by the rising sun, come quickly, for all things are changing. you who have pored over the story of the turk; who have dreamed of him as a gloomy enthusiast, hating, spurning, and slaying all who do not believe and call upon the prophet; "one of that saintly, murderous brood, to carnage and the koran given, who think through unbelievers' blood lies their directest path to heaven;" come quickly, for that description of turk is passing away. the day has gone by when the haughty mussulman spurned and persecuted the "christian dog." a few years since it would have been at peril of a man's life to appear in many parts of turkey in a european dress; but now the european is looked upon, not only as a creature fit to live, but as a man to be respected. the sultan himself, the great head of the nation and the religion, the vicegerent of god upon earth, has taken off the turban, and all the officers of government have followed his example. the army wears a bastard european uniform, and the great study of the sultan is to introduce european customs. thanks to the infirmities of human nature, many of these customs have begun to insinuate themselves. the pious follower of the prophet has dared to raise the winecup to his lips; and in many instances, at the peril of losing his paradise of houris, has given himself up to strong drink. time was when the word of a turk was sacred as a precept of the koran; now he can no more be relied upon than a jew or a christian. he has fallen with great facility into lying, cheating, and drinking, and if the earnest efforts to change him are attended with success, perhaps we may soon add stealing and having but one wife. and all this change, this mighty fall, is ascribed by the europeans here to the destruction of the janisaries, a band of men dangerous to government, brave, turbulent, and bloody, but of indomitable pride; who were above doing little things, and who gave a high tone to the character of the whole people. if i was not bent upon a gallop, and could stop for the jogtrot of an argument, i would say that the destruction of the janisaries is a mere incidental circumstance, and that the true cause is--_steam navigation_. do not laugh, but listen. the turks have ever been a proud people, possessing a sort of peacock pride, an extravagantly good opinion of themselves, and a superlative contempt for all the rest of the world. heretofore they have had comparatively little intercourse with europeans, consequently but little opportunity of making comparisons, and consequently, again, but little means of discovering their own inferiority. but lately things have changed; the universal peace in europe and the introduction of steamboats into the mediterranean have brought the europeans and the turks comparatively close together. it seems to me that the effect of steamboats here has as yet hardly begun to be felt. there are but few of them, indifferent boats, constantly getting out of order, and running so irregularly that no reliance can be placed upon them. but still their effects are felt, their convenience is acknowledged; and, so far as my knowledge extends, they have never been introduced anywhere yet without multiplying in numbers, and driving all other vessels off the water. now the mediterranean is admirably suited to the use of steamboats; indeed, the whole of these inland waters, the mediterranean, the adriatic, the archipelago, the dardanelles, the sea of marmora, the bosphorus, and the black sea, from the straits of gibraltar to the sea of azoff, offer every facility that can be desired for steam navigation; and when we consider that the most interesting cities in the world are on the shores of these waters, i cannot but believe that in a very few years they will be, to a certain extent, covered with steamboats. at all events, i have no doubt that in two or three years you will be able to go from paris to constantinople in fifteen or twenty days; and, when that time comes, it will throw such numbers of europeans into the east as will have a sensible effect upon the manners and customs of the people. these eastern countries will be invaded by all classes of people, travellers, merchants, and mechanics, gentlemen of elegant leisure, and blacksmiths, shoemakers, tinkers, and tailors, nay, even mantuamakers, milliners, and bandboxes, the last being an incident to civilized life as yet unknown in turkey. indeed, wonderful as the effects of steamboats have been under our own eyes, we are yet to see them far more wonderful in bringing into close alliance, commercial and social, people from distant countries, of different languages and habits; in removing national prejudices, and in breaking down the great characteristic distinctions of nations. nous verrons, twenty years hence, what steamboats will have done in this part of the world! but, in standing up for steamboats, i must not fail in doing justice to the grand seignior. his highness has not always slept upon a bed of roses. he had to thank the petticoats of a female slave for saving his life when a boy, and he had hardly got upon his throne before he found that he should have a hard task to keep it. it lay between him and the janisaries. in spite of them and of the general prejudices of the people, he determined to organize an army according to european tactics. he staked his throne and his head upon the issue; and it was not until he had been pushed to the desperate expedient of unfurling the sacred standard of the prophet, parading it through the streets of constantinople, and calling upon all good mussulmans to rally round it; in short, it was not until the dead bodies of thirty thousand janisaries were floating down the bosphorus, that he found himself the master in his own dominions. since that time, either because he is fond of new things, or because he really sees farther than those around him, he is constantly endeavouring to introduce european improvements. for this purpose he invites talent, particularly mechanical and military, from every country, and has now around him europeans among his most prominent men, and directing nearly all his public works. the turks are a sufficiently intelligent people, and cannot help feeling the superiority of strangers. probably the immediate effect may be to make them prone rather to catch the faults and vices than the virtues of europeans; but afterward better things will come; they will fall into our better ways; and perhaps, though that is almost more than we dare hope for, they will embrace a better religion. but, however this may be, or whatever may be the cause, all ye who would see the turk of mohammed; the turk who swept the plains of asia, who leaned upon his bloody sword before the walls of vienna, and threatened the destruction of christendom in europe; the turk of the turban, and the pipe, and the seraglio, come quickly, for he is becoming another man. a little longer, and the great characteristic distinctions will be broken down; the long pipe, the handsome pipe-bearer, and the amber mouthpiece are gone, and oh, death to all that is beautiful in eastern romance, the walls of the seraglio are prostrated, the doors of the harem thrown open, the black eunuch and the veiled woman are no more seen, while the honest turk trudges home from a quiet tea-party stripped of his retinue of fair ones, with his one and only wife tucked under his arm, his head drooping between his shoulders, taking a lecture from his better half for an involuntary sigh to the good old days that are gone. and oh you who turn up your aristocratic noses at such parvenues as mohammed and the turks; who would go back to those distant ages which time covers with its dim and twilight glories, "when the world was fresh and young, and the great deluge still had left it green;" you who come piping-hot from college, your brains teeming with recollections of the heroic ages; who would climb mount ida, to sit in council with the gods, come quickly, also, for all things are changing. a steamboat--shade of hector, ajax, and agamemnon, forgive the sins of the day--an austrian steamboat is now splashing the island-studded Ægean, and paddling the classic waters of the hellespont. oh ye princes and heroes who armed for the trojan war, and covered these waters with your thousand ships, with what pious horror must you look down from your blessed abodes upon the impious modern monster of the deep, which strips the tall mast of its flowing canvass, renders unnecessary the propitiation of the gods, and flounders on its way in spite of wind and weather! a new and unaccountable respect for the classics almost made me scorn the newfangled conveyance, though much to the comfort of wayfaring men; but sundry recollections of greek caiques, and also an apprehension that there might be those yet living who had heard me in early days speak anything but respectfully of homer, suggested to me that one man could not stem the current of the times, and that it was better for a humble individual like myself to float with the tide. this idea, too, of currents and tides made me think better of prince metternich and his steamboat; and smothering, as well as i could, my sense of shame, i sneaked on board the maria dorothea for a race to constantinople. join me, now, in this race; and if your heart does not break at going by at the rate of eight or ten miles an hour, i will whip you over a piece of the most classic ground consecrated in history, mythology, or poetry, and in less time than ever the swiftfooted achilles could have travelled it. at eleven o'clock on a bright sunny day the maria dorothea turned her back upon the city and beautiful bay of smyrna; in about two hours passed the harbour of vourla, then used as a quarantine station, the yellow plague flag floating in the city and among the shipping; and toward dark, turning the point of the gulf, came upon my old acquaintance foggi, the little harbour into which i had been twice driven by adverse winds. my greek friend happened to be on board, and, in the honesty of his heart, congratulated me upon being this time independent of the elements, without seeming to care a fig whether he profaned the memory of his ancestors in travelling by so unclassical a conveyance. if he takes it so coolly, thought i, what is it to me? they are his relations, not mine. in the evening we were moving close to the island of mytilene, the ancient lesbos, the country of sappho, alcæus, and terpander, famed for the excellence of its wine and the beauty of its women, and pre-eminently distinguished for dissipation and debauchery, the fatal plague flag now floating mournfully over its walls, marking it as the abode of pestilence and death. early in the morning i found myself opposite the promontory of lectum, now cape baba, separating the ancient troas from Æolia; a little to the right, but hardly visible, were the ruins of assos, where the apostles stopped to take in paul; a little farther the ruins of alexandria troas, one of the many cities founded by alexander during his conquests in asia; to the left, at some distance in the sea, is the island of lemnos, in the songs of the poets overshadowed by the lofty olympus, the island that received vulcan after he was kicked out of heaven by jupiter. a little farther, nearer the land, is the island of tenedos, the ancient leucophrys, where paris first landed after carrying off helen, and behind which the greeks withdrew their fleet when they pretended to have abandoned the siege of troy. still farther, on the mainland, is the promontory of sigæum, where the scamander empties into the sea, and near which were fought the principal of homer's battles. a little farther--but hold, stop the engine! if there be a spot of classic ground on earth in which the historical, and the poetical, and the fabulous are so beautifully blended together that we would not separate them even to discover the truth, it is before us now. extending for a great distance along the shore, and back as far as the eye can reach, under the purest sky that ever overshadowed the earth, lies a rich and beautiful plain, and it is the plain of troy, the battle-ground of heroes. oh field of glory and of blood, little does he know, that surly turk who is now lazily following his plough over thy surface, that every blade of thy grass could tell of heroic deeds, the shock of armies, the meeting of war chariots, the crashing of armour, the swift flight, the hot pursuit, the shouts of victors, and the groans of the dying. beyond it, towering to the heavens, is a lofty mountain, and it is mount ida, on whose top paris adjudged the golden apple to the goddess of beauty, and paved the way for those calamities which brought on the ten years' siege, and laid in ruins the ancient city of priam. two small streams, taking their rise from the mountain of the gods, join each other in the middle of the plain; scamander and simois, whose waters once washed the walls of the ancient city of dardanus; and that small, confused, and shapeless mass of ruins, that beautiful sky and the songs of homer, are all that remain to tell us that "troy was." close to the sea, and rising like mountains above the plain, are two immense mounds of earth; they are the tombs of ajax and achilles. shades of departed heroes, fain would we stop and pay the tribute which we justly owe, but we are hurried past by an engine of a hundred horse power. onward, still onward! we have reached the ancient hellespont, the dardanelles of the turks, famed as the narrow water that divides europe from asia, for the beauties that adorn its banks, and for its great turkish fortifications. three miles wide at the mouth, it becomes gradually narrower, until, in the narrowest part, the natives of europe and asia can talk together from the opposite sides. for sixty miles (its whole length) it presents a continued succession of new beauties, and in the hands of europeans, particularly english, improved as country seats, would make one of the loveliest countries in the world. i had just time to reflect that it was melancholy, and seemed inexplicable that this and other of the fairest portions of the earth should be in the hands of the turks, who neither improve it themselves nor allow others to do so. at three o'clock we arrived at the dardanelles, a little turkish town in the narrowest and most beautiful part of the straits; a strong fort with enormous cannon stands frowning on each side. these are the terrible fortifications of mohammed ii., the keys of constantinople. the guns are enormous; of one in particular, the muzzle is two feet three inches in diameter; but, with turkish ingenuity, they are so placed as to be discharged when a ship is directly opposite. if the ship is not disabled by the first fire, and does not choose to go back and take another, she is safe. at every moment a new picture presents itself; a new fort, a new villa, or the ruins of an ancient city. a naked point on the european side, so ugly compared with all around it as to attract particular attention, projects into the strait, and here are the ruins of sestos; here xerxes built his bridge of boats to carry over his millions to the conquest of greece; and here, when he returned with the wreck of his army, defeated and disgraced, found his bridge destroyed by a tempest, and, in his rage, ordered the chains to be thrown into the sea and the waves to be lashed with rods. from this point, too, leander swam the hellespont for love of hero, and lord byron and mr. ekenhead for fun. nearly opposite, close to a turkish fort, are the ruins of abydos. here xerxes, and leander, and lord byron, and mr. ekenhead landed. our voyage is drawing to a close. at gallipoli, a large turkish town handsomely situated at the mouth of the dardanelles, we took on board the turkish governor, with his pipe-bearer and train of attendants, escorted by thirty or forty boats, containing three or four hundred people, his mightiness taking a deck passage. toward evening we were entering the sea of marmora, the ancient propontis, like one of our small lakes, and i again went to sleep lulled by the music of a high-pressure engine. at daylight we were approaching constantinople; twelve miles this side, on the bank of the sea of marmora, is the village of st. stephano, the residence of commodore porter. here the domes and minarets of the ancient city, with their golden points and glittering crescents, began to appear in sight. high above the rest towered the mosque of sultan achmet and the beautiful dome of st. sophia, the ancient christian church, but now, for nearly four hundred years, closed against the christians' feet. we approach the walls and pass a range of gloomy turrets; there are the seven towers, prisons, portals of the grave, whose mysteries few live to publish: the bowstring and the sea reveal no secrets. that palace, with its blinded windows and its superb garden, surrounded by a triple range of walls, is the far-famed seraglio; there beauty lingers in a splendid cage, and, lolling on her rich divan, sighs for the humblest lot and freedom. in front, that narrow water, a thousand caiques shooting through it like arrows, and its beautiful banks covered with high palaces and gardens in the oriental style, is the thracian bosphorus. we float around the walls of the seraglio, enter the golden horn, and before us, with its thousand mosques and its myriad of minarets, their golden points glittering in the sun, is the roman city of constantinople, the thracian byzantium, the stamboul of the turks; the city which, more than all others, excites the imagination and interests the feelings; once dividing with rome the empire of the world; built by a christian emperor and consecrated as a christian city, a "burning and a shining light" in a season of universal darkness, all at once lost to the civilized world; falling into the hands of a strange and fanatic people, the gloomy followers of a successful soldier; a city which, for nearly four centuries, has sat with its gates closed in sullen distrust and haughty defiance of strangers; which once sent forth large and terrible armies, burning, slaying, and destroying, shaking the hearts of princes and people, now lying like a fallen giant, huge, unwieldy, and helpless, ready to fall into the hands of the first invader, and dragging out a precarious and ignoble existence but by the mercy or policy of the great christian powers. the morning sun, now striking upon its domes and minarets, covers it, as it were, with burnished gold; a beautiful verdure surrounds it, and pure waters wash it on every side. can this beautiful city, rich with the choicest gifts of heaven, be pre-eminently the abode of pestilence and death? where a man carries about with him the seeds of disease to all whom he holds dear? if he extend the hand of welcome to a friend, if he embrace his child or rub against a stranger, the friend, and the child, and the stranger follow him to the grave? where, year after year, the angel of death stalks through the streets, and thousands and tens of thousands look him calmly in the face, and murmuring "allah, allah, god is merciful," with a fatal trust in the prophet, lie down and die? we enter the city, and these questions are quickly answered. a lazy, lounging, and filthy population; beggars basking in the sun, and dogs licking their sores; streets never cleaned but by the winds and rains; immense burying-grounds all over the city; tombstones at the corners of the streets; graves gaping ready to throw out their half-buried dead, the whole approaching to one vast charnel-house, dispel all illusions and remove all doubts, and we are ready to ask ourselves if it be possible that, in such a place, health can ever dwell. we wonder that it should ever, for the briefest moment, be free from that dreadful scourge which comes with every summer's sun and strews its streets with dead. **** chapter xii. mr. churchill.--commodore porter.--castle of the seven towers.--the sultan's naval architect.--launch of the great ship.--sultan mahmoud.--jubilate.--a national grievance.--visit to a mosque.--the burial-grounds. there is a good chance for an enterprising connecticut man to set up a hotel in constantinople. the reader will see that i have travelled with my eyes open, and i trust this shrewd observation on entering the city of the cæsars will be considered characteristic and american. paul was at home in pera, and conducted us to the hotel d'italia, which was so full that we could not get admission, and so vile a place that we were not sorry for it. we then went to madame josephine's, a sort of private boarding-house, but excellent of its kind. we found there a collection of travellers, english, french, german, and russian, and the dinner was particularly social; but dr. n. was so disgusted with the clatter of foreign tongues, that he left the table with the first course, and swore he would not stay there another day. we tried to persuade him. i reminded him that there was an englishman among them, but this only made him worse; he hated an englishman, and wondered how i, as an american, could talk with one as i had with him. in short, he was resolved, and had paul running about every street in pera looking for rooms. notwithstanding his impracticabilities as a traveller, i liked the doctor, and determined to follow him, and before breakfast the next morning we were installed in a suite of rooms in the third story of a house opposite the old palace of the british ambassador. for two or three days i was _hors du combat_, and put myself under the hands of dr. zohrab, an armenian, educated at edinburgh, whom i cordially recommend both for his kindness and medical skill. on going out, one of my first visits was to my banker, mr. churchill, a gentleman whose name has since rung throughout europe, and who at one time seemed likely to be the cause of plunging the whole civilized world into a war. he was then living in sedikuey, on the site of the ancient chalcedon, in asia; and i have seldom been more shocked than by reading in a newspaper, while in the lazaretto at malta, that, having accidentally shot a turkish boy with a fowling-piece, he had been seized by the turks, and, in defiance of treaties, _bastinadoed_ till he was almost dead. i had seen the infliction of that horrible punishment; and, besides the physical pain, there was a sense of the indignity that roused every feeling. i could well imagine the ferocious spirit with which the turks would stand around and see a christian scourged. the civilized world owes a deep debt of gratitude to the english government for the uncompromising stand taken in this matter with the sultan, and the firmness with which it insisted on, and obtained, the most ample redress for mr. churchill, and atonement for the insult offered to all christendom in his person. my companions and myself had received several invitations from commodore porter, and, accompanied by mr. dwight, one of our american missionaries, to whom i am under particular obligations for his kindness, early in the morning we took a caique with three athletic turks, and, after a beautiful row, part of it from the seraglio point to the seven towers, a distance of five miles, being close under the walls of the city, in two hours reached the commodore's residence at st. stephano, twelve miles from constantinople, on the borders of the sea of marmora. the situation is beautiful, abounding in fruit-trees, among which are some fig trees of the largest size; and the commodore was then engaged in building a large addition to his house. it will be remembered that commodore porter was the first envoy ever sent by the united states' government to the sublime porte. he had formerly lived at buyukdere, on the bosphorus, with the other members of the diplomatic corps; but his salary as chargé being inadequate to sustain a becoming style, he had withdrawn to this place. i had never seen commodore porter before. i afterward passed a month with him in the lazaretto at malta, and i trust he will not consider me presuming when i say that our acquaintance ripened into friendship. he is entirely different from the idea i had formed of him; small, dark, weather-beaten, much broken in health, and remarkably mild and quiet in his manners. his eye is his best feature, though even that does not indicate the desperate hardihood of character which he has exhibited on so many occasions. perhaps i ought not to say so, but he seemed ill at ease in his position, and i could not but think that he ought still to be standing in the front rank of that service he so highly honoured. he spoke with great bitterness of the foxardo affair, and gave me an account of an interesting interview between general jackson and himself on his recall from south america. general jackson wished him to resume his rank in the navy, but he answered that he would never accept service with men who had suspended him for doing what, they said in their sentence of condemnation, was done "to sustain the honour of the american flag." at the primitive hour of one we sat down to a regular family dinner. we were all americans. the commodore's sister, who was living with him, presided, and we looked out on the sea of marmora and talked of home. i cannot describe the satisfaction of these meetings of americans so far from their own country. i have often experienced it most powerfully in the houses of the missionaries in the east. besides having, in many instances, the same acquaintances, we had all the same habits and ways of thinking; their articles of furniture were familiar to me, and there was scarcely a house in which i did not find an article unknown except among americans, a boston rocking-chair. we talked over the subject of our difficulties with france, then under discussion in the chamber of deputies, and i remember that commodore porter was strong in the opinion that the bill paying the debt would pass. before rising from table, the commodore's janisary came down from constantinople, with papers and letters just arrived by the courier from paris. he told me that i should have the honour of breaking the seals, and i took out the paper so well known all over europe, "galignani's messenger," and had the satisfaction of reading aloud, in confirmation of the commodore's opinion, that the bill for paying the american claims had passed the chamber of deputies by a large majority. [illustration: castle of the seven towers.] about four o'clock we embarked in our caique to return to constantinople. in an hour mr. d. and i landed at the foot of the seven towers, and few things in this ancient city interested me more than my walk around its walls. we followed them the whole extent on the land side, from the sea of marmora to the golden horn. they consist of a triple range, with five gates, the principal of which is the cannon gate, through which mohammed ii. made his triumphal entry into the christian city. they have not been repaired since the city fell into the hands of the turks, and are the same walls which procured for it the proud name of the "well-defended city;" to a great extent, they are the same walls which the first constantine built and the last constantine died in defending. time has laid his ruining hand upon them, and they are everywhere weak and decaying, and would fall at once before the thunder of modern war. the moat and fossé have alike lost their warlike character, and bloom and blossom with the vine and fig tree. beyond, hardly less interesting than the venerable walls, and extending as far as the eye can reach, is one continued burying-ground, with thousands and tens of thousands of turbaned headstones, shaded by thick groves of the mourning cypress. opposite the damascus gate is an elevated enclosure, disconnected from all around, containing five headstones in a row, over the bodies of ali pacha, the rebel chief of yanina, and his four sons. the fatal mark of death by the bowstring is conspicuous on the tombs, as a warning to rebels that they cannot escape the sure vengeance of the porte. it was toward the sunset of a beautiful evening, and all stamboul was out among the tombs. at dark we reached the golden horn, crossed over in a caique, and in a few minutes were in pera. the next day i took a caique at tophana, and went up to the shipyards at the head of the golden horn to visit mr. rhodes, to whom i had a letter from a friend in smyrna. mr. rhodes is a native of long island, but from his boyhood a resident of this city, and i take great pleasure in saying that he is an honour to our state and country. the reader will remember that, some years ago, mr. eckford, one of our most prominent citizens, under a pressure of public and domestic calamities, left his native city. he sailed from new-york in a beautiful corvette, its destination unknown, and came to anchor under the walls of the seraglio in the harbour of constantinople. the sultan saw her, admired her, and bought her; and i saw her "riding like a thing of life" on the waters of the golden horn, a model of beauty. the fame of his skill, and the beautiful specimen he carried out with him, recommended mr. eckford to the sultan as a fit instrument to build up the character of the ottoman navy; and afterward, when his full value became known, the sultan remarked of him that america must be a great nation if she could spare from her service such a man. had he lived, even in the decline of life he would have made for himself a reputation in that distant quarter of the globe equal to that he had left behind him, and doubtless would have reaped the attendant pecuniary reward. mr. rhodes went out as mr. eckford's foreman, and on his death the task of completing his employer's work devolved on him. it could not have fallen upon a better man. from a journeyman shipbuilder, all at once mr. rhodes found himself brought into close relations with the seraskier pacha, the reis effendi, the grand vizier, and the sultan himself; but his good sense never deserted him. he was then preparing for the launch of the great ship; the longest, as he said, and he knew the dimensions of every ship that floated, in the world. i accompanied him over the ship and through the yards, and it was with no small degree of interest that i viewed a townsman, an entire stranger in the country, by his skill alone standing at the head of the great naval establishment of the sultan. he was dressed in a blue roundabout jacket, without whiskers or mustache, and, except that he wore the tarbouch, was thorough american in his appearance and manners, while his dragoman was constantly by his side, communicating his orders to hundreds of mustached turks, and in the same breath he was talking with me of shipbuilders in new-york, and people and things most familiar in our native city. mr. rhodes knows and cares but little for things that do not immediately concern him; his whole thoughts are of his business, and in that he possesses an ambition and industry worthy of all praise. as an instance of his discretion, particularly proper in the service of that suspicious and despotic government, i may mention that, while standing near the ship and remarking a piece of cloth stretched across her stern, i asked him her name, and he told me he did not know; that it was painted on her stern, and his dragoman knew, but he had never looked under, that he might not be able to answer when asked. i have seldom met a countryman abroad with whom i was more pleased, and at parting he put himself on a pinnacle in my estimation by telling me that, if i came to the yard the next day at one, i would see the sultan! there was no man living whom i had a greater curiosity to see. at twelve o'clock i was at the yard, but the sultan did not come. i went again, and his highness had come two hours before the time; had accompanied mr. rhodes over the ship, and left the yard less than five minutes before my arrival; his caique was still lying at the little dock, his attendants were carrying trays of refreshments to a shooting-ground in the rear, and two black eunuchs belonging to the seraglio, handsomely dressed in long black cloaks of fine pelisse cloth, with gold-headed canes and rings on their fingers, were still lingering about the ship, their effeminate faces and musical voices at once betraying their neutral character. the next was the day of the launch; and early in the morning, in the suite of commodore porter, i went on board an old steamer provided by the sultan expressly for the use of mr. rhodes's american friends. the waters of the golden horn were already covered; thousands of caiques, with their high sharp points, were cutting through it, or resting like gulls upon its surface; and there were ships with the still proud banner of the crescent, and strangers with the flags of every nation in christendom, and sailboats, longboats, and rowboats, ambassadors' barges, and caiques of effendis, beys, and pachas, with red silk flags streaming in the wind, while countless thousands were assembled on the banks to behold the extraordinary spectacle of an american ship, the largest in the world, launched in the harbour of old stamboul. the sultan was then living at his beautiful palace at sweet waters, and was obliged to pass by our boat; he had made a great affair of the launch; had invited all the diplomatic corps, and, through the reis effendi, particularly requested the presence of commodore porter; had stationed his harem on the opposite side of the river; and as i saw prepared for himself near the ship a tent of scarlet cloth trimmed with gold, i expected to see him appear in all the pomp and splendour of the greatest potentate on earth. i had already seen enough to convince me that the days of eastern magnificence had gone by, or that the gorgeous scenes which my imagination had always connected with the east had never existed; but still i could not divest myself of the lingering idea of the power and splendour of the sultan. his commanding style to his own subjects: "i command you, ----, my slave, that you bring the head of ----, my slave, and lay it at my feet;" and then his lofty tone with foreign powers: "i, who am, by the infinite grace of the great, just, and all-powerful creator, and the abundance of the miracles of the chief of his prophets, emperor of powerful emperors; refuge of sovereigns; distributor of crowns to the kings of the earth; keeper of the two very holy cities (mecca and medina); governor of the holy city of jerusalem; master of europe, asia, and africa, conquered with our victorious sword and our terrible lance; lord of two seas (black and white); of damascus, the odour of paradise; of bagdad, the seat of the califs; of the fortresses of belgrade, agra, and a multitude of countries, isles, straits, people, generations, and of so many victorious armies who repose under the shade of our sublime porte; i, in short, who am the shadow of god upon earth;" i was rolling these things through my mind when a murmur, "the sultan is coming," turned me to the side of the boat, and one view dispelled all my gorgeous fancies. there was no style, no state, a citizen king, a republican president, or a democratic governor, could not have made a more unpretending appearance than did this "shadow of god upon earth." he was seated in the bottom of a large caique, dressed in the military frockcoat and red tarbouch, with his long black beard, the only mark of a turk about him, and he moved slowly along the vacant space cleared for his passage, boats with the flags of every nation, and thousands of caiques falling back, and the eyes of the immense multitude earnestly fixed upon him, but without any shouts or acclamations; and when he landed at the little dock, and his great officers bowed to the dust before him, he looked the plainest, mildest, kindest man among them. i had wished to see him as a wholesale murderer, who had more blood upon his hands than any man living; who had slaughtered the janisaries, drenched the plains of greece, to say nothing of bastinadoes, impalements, cutting off heads, and tying up in sacks, which are taking place every moment; but i will not believe that sultan mahmoud finds any pleasure in shedding blood. dire necessity, or, as he himself would say, fate, has ever been driving him on. i look upon him as one of the most interesting characters upon earth; as the creature of circumstances, made bloody and cruel by the necessities of his position. i look at his past life and at that which is yet in store for him, through all the stormy scenes he is to pass until he completes his unhappy destiny, the last of a powerful and once-dreaded race, bearded by those who once crouched at the footstool of his ancestors, goaded by rebellious vassals, conscious that he is going a downward road, and yet unable to resist the impulse that drives him on. like the strong man encompassed with a net, he finds no avenue of escape, and cannot break through it. the seraskier pacha and other principal officers escorted him to his tent, and now all the interest which i had taken in the sultan was transferred to mr. rhodes. he had great anxiety about the launch, and many difficulties to contend with: first, in the turks' jealousy of a stranger, which obliged him to keep constantly on the watch lest some of his ropes should be cut or fastenings knocked away; and he had another turkish prejudice to struggle against: the day had been fixed twice before, but the astronomers found an unfortunate conjunction of the stars, and it was postponed, and even then the stars were unpropitious; but mr. rhodes had insisted that the work had gone so far that it could not be stopped. and, besides these, he had another great difficulty in his ignorance of their language. with more than a thousand men under him, all his orders had to pass through interpreters, and often, too, the most prompt action was necessary, and the least mistake might prove fatal. fortunately, he was protected from treachery by the kindness of mr. churchill and dr. zohrab, one of whom stood on the bow and the other in the stern of the ship, and through whom every order was transmitted in turkish. probably none there felt the same interest that we did; for the flags of the barbarian and every nation in christendom were waving around us, and at that distance from home the enterprise of a single citizen enlisted the warmest feelings of every american. we watched the ship with as keen an interest as if our own honour and success in life depended upon her movements. for a long time she remained perfectly quiet. at length she moved, slowly and almost imperceptibly; and then, as if conscious that the eyes of an immense multitude were on her, and that the honour of a distant nation was in some measure at stake, she marched proudly to the water, plunged in with a force that almost buried her, and, rising like a huge leviathan, parted the foaming waves with her bow, and rode triumphantly upon them. even mussulman indifference was disturbed; all petty jealousies were hushed; the whole immense mass was roused into admiration; loud and long-continued shouts of applause rose with one accord from turks and christians, and the sultan was so transported that he jumped up and clapped his hands like a schoolboy. mr. rhodes's triumph was complete; the sultan called him to his tent, and with his own hands fixed on the lappel of his coat a gold medal set in diamonds, representing the launching of a ship. mr. rhodes has attained among strangers the mark of every honourable man's ambition, the head of his profession. he has put upon the water what commodore porter calls the finest ship that ever floated, and has a right to be proud of his position and prospects under the "shade of the sublime porte." the sultan wishes to confer upon him the title of chief naval constructor, and to furnish him with a house and a caique with four oars. in compliment to his highness, who detests a hat, mr. rhodes wears the tarbouch; but he declines all offices and honours, and anything that may tend to fix him as a turkish subject, and looks to return and enjoy in his own country and among his own people the fruits of his honourable labours. if the good wishes of a friend can avail him, he will soon return to our city rich with the profits of untiring industry, and an honourable testimony to his countrymen of the success of american skill and enterprise abroad. to go back a moment. all day the great ship lay in the middle of the golden horn, while perhaps more than a hundred thousand turks shot round her in their little caiques, looking up from the surface of the water to her lofty deck: and in pera, wherever i went, perhaps because i was an american, the only thing i heard of was the american ship. proud of the admiration excited so far from home by this noble specimen of the skill of an american citizen, i unburden myself of a long-smothered subject of complaint against my country. i cry out with a loud voice for _reform_, not in the hackneyed sense of petty politicians, but by a liberal and enlarged expenditure of public money; by increasing the outfits and salaries of our foreign ambassadors and ministers. we claim to be rich, free from debt, and abundant in resources, and yet every american abroad is struck with a feeling of mortification at the inability of his representative to take that position in social life to which the character of his country entitles him. we may talk of republican simplicity as we will, but there are certain usages of society and certain appendages of rank which, though they may be unmeaning and worthless, are sanctioned, if not by the wisdom, at least by the practice of all civilized countries. we have committed a fatal error since the time when franklin appeared at the court of france in a plain citizen's dress; everywhere our representative conforms to the etiquette of the court to which he is accredited, and it is too late to go back and begin anew; and now, unless our representative is rich and willing to expend his own fortune for the honour of the nation, he is obliged to withdraw from the circles and position in which he has a right and ought to move, or to move in them on an inferior footing, under an acknowledgment of inability to appear as an equal. and again: our whole consular system is radically wrong, disreputable, and injurious to our character and interests. while other nations consider the support of their consuls a part of the expenses of their government, we suffer ourselves to be represented by merchants, whose pecuniary interests are mixed up with all the local and political questions that affect the place and who are under a strong inducement to make their office subservient to their commercial relations. i make no imputations against any of them. i could not if i would, for i do not know an american merchant holding the office who is not a respectable man; but the representative of our country ought to be the representative of our country only; removed from any distracting or conflicting interests, standing like a watchman to protect the honour of his nation and the rights of her citizens. and more than this, all over the mediterranean there are ports where commerce presents no inducements to the american merchant, and there the office falls into the hands of the natives; and at this day the american arms are blazoned on the doors, and the american flag is waving over the houses, of greeks, italians, jews, and arabs, and all the mongrel population of that inland sea; and in the ports under the dominion of turkey particularly, the office is coveted as a means of protecting the holder against the liabilities to his own government, and of revenue by selling that protection to others. i will not mention them by name, for i bear them no ill will personally, and i have received kindness from most of the petty vagabonds who live under the folds of the american flag; but the consuls at gendoa and algiers are a disgrace to the american name. congress has lately turned its attention to this subject, and will, before long, i hope, effect a complete change in the character of our consular department, and give it the respectability which it wants; the only remedy is by following the example of other nations, in fixing salaries to the office, and forbidding the holders to engage in trade. besides the leading inducements to this change, there is a secondary consideration, which, in my eyes, is not without its value, in that it would furnish a valuable school of instruction for our young men. the offices would be sought by such. a thousand or fifteen hundred dollars a year would maintain them respectably, in most of the ports of the mediterranean, and young men resident in those places, living upon salaries, and not obliged to engage in commerce, would employ their leisure hours in acquiring the language of the country, in communicating with the interior, and among them would return upon us an accumulation of knowledge far more than repaying us for all the expense of supporting them abroad. doubtless the reader expects other things in constantinople; but all things are changing. the day has gone by when the christian could not cross the threshold of a mosque and live. even the sacred mosque of st. sophia, the ancient christian church, so long closed against the christians' feet, now, upon great occasions, again opens its doors to the descendants of its christian builders. one of these great occasions happened while i was there. the sultan gave a firman to the french ambassador, under which all the european residents and travellers visited it. unfortunately, i was unwell, and could not go out that day, and was obliged afterward to content myself with walking around its walls, with uplifted eyes and a heavy heart, admiring the glittering crescent and thinking of the prostrate cross. but no traveller can leave constantinople without having seen the interior of a mosque; and accordingly, under the guidance of mustapha, the janisary of the british consul, i visited the mosque of sultan suliman, next in point of beauty to that of st. sophia, though far inferior in historical interest. at an early hour we crossed the golden horn to old stamboul; threaded our way through its narrow and intricate streets to an eminence near the seraskier pacha's tower; entered by a fine gateway into a large courtyard, more than a thousand feet square, handsomely paved and ornamented with noble trees, and enclosed by a high wall; passed a marble fountain of clear and abundant water, where, one after another, the faithful stopped to make their ablutions; entered a large colonnade, consisting of granite and marble pillars of every form and style, the plunder of ancient temples, worked in without much regard to architectural fitness, yet, on the whole, producing a fine effect; pulled off our shoes at the door, and, with naked feet and noiseless step, crossed the sacred threshold of the mosque. silently we moved among the kneeling figures of the faithful scattered about in different parts of the mosque and engaged in prayer; paused for a moment under the beautiful dome sustained by four columns from the temple of diana at ephesus; leaned against a marble pillar which may have supported, two thousand years ago, the praying figure of a worshipper of the great goddess; gazed at the thousand small lamps suspended from the lofty ceiling, each by a separate cord, and with a devout feeling left the mosque. [illustration: mosque of sultan suliman.] in the rear, almost concealed from view by a thick grove of trees, shrubs, and flowers, is a circular building about forty feet in diameter, containing the tomb of suliman, the founder of the mosque, his brother, his favourite wife roxala, and two other wives. the monuments are in the form of sarcophagi, with pyramidal tops, covered with rich cashmere shawls, having each at the head a large white turban, and enclosed by a railing covered with mother-of-pearl. the great beauty of the sepulchral chamber is its dome, which is highly ornamented, and sparkles with brilliants. in one corner is a plan of mecca, the holy temple, and tomb of the prophet. in the afternoon i went for the last time to the armenian burying-ground. in the east the graveyards are the general promenades, the places of rendezvous, and the lounging-places; and in constantinople the armenian burying-ground is the most beautiful, and the favourite. situated in the suburbs of pera, overlooking the bosphorus, shaded by noble palm-trees, almost regularly toward evening i found myself sitting upon the same tombstone, looking upon the silvery water at my feet, studded with palaces, flashing and glittering with caiques from the golden palace of the sultan to the seraglio point, and then turned to the animated groups thronging the burying-ground; the armenian in his flowing robes, the dashing greek, the stiff and out-of-place-looking frank; turks in their gay and bright costume, glittering arms, and solemn beards, enjoying the superlative of existence in dozing over their pipe; and women in long white veils, apart under some delightful shade, in little picnic parties, eating ices and confectionary. here and there, toward the outskirts, was the araba, the only wheeled carriage known among the turks, with a long low body, highly carved and gilded, drawn by oxen fancifully trimmed with ribands, and filled with soft cushions, on which the turkish and armenian ladies almost buried themselves. instead of the cypress, the burying-ground is shaded by noble plane-trees; and the tombstones, instead of being upright, are all flat, having at the head a couple of little niches scooped out to hold water, with the beautiful idea to induce birds to come there and drink and sing among the trees. their tombstones, too, have another mark, which, in a country where men are apt to forget who their fathers were, would exclude them even from that place where all mortal distinctions are laid low, viz., a mark indicating the profession or occupation of the deceased; as, a pair of shears to mark the grave of a tailor; a razor that of a barber; and on many of them was another mark indicating the manner of death, the bowstring, or some other mark, showing that the stone covered a victim of turkish cruelty. but all these things are well known; nothing has escaped the prying eyes of curious travellers; and i merely state, for my own credit's sake, that i followed the steps of those who had gone before me, visited the sweet waters, scutary, and belgrade, the reservoirs, aqueducts, and ruins of the palace of constantine, and saw the dancing dervishes; rowed up the bosphorus to buyukdere, lunched under the tree where godfrey encamped with his gallant crusaders, and looked out upon the black sea from the top of the giant's mountain. chapter xiii. visit to the slave-market.--horrors of slavery.--departure from stamboul.--the stormy euxine.--odessa.--the lazaretto.--russian civility.--returning good for evil. the day before i left constantinople i went, in company with dr. n. and his son, and attended by paul, to visit the slave-market; crossing over to stamboul, we picked up a jew in the bazars, who conducted us through a perfect labyrinth of narrow streets to a quarter of the city from which it would have been utterly impossible for me to extricate myself alone. i only know that it was situated on high ground, and that we passed through a gateway into a hollow square of about a hundred and fifty or two hundred feet on each side. it was with no small degree of emotion that i entered this celebrated place, where so many christian hearts have trembled; and, before crossing the threshold, i ran over in my mind all the romantic stories and all the horrible realities that i could remember connected with its history: the tears of beauty, the pangs of brave men, and so down to the unsentimental exclamation of johnson to his new friend don juan: "yon black eunuch seems to eye us; i wish to god that somebody would buy us." the bazar forms a hollow square, with little chambers about fifteen feet each way around it, in which the slaves belonging to the different dealers are kept. a large shed or portico projects in front, under which, and in front of each chamber, is a raised platform, with a low railing around it, where the slave-merchant sits and gossips, and dozes over his coffee and pipes. i had heard so little of this place, and it was so little known among europeans, taking into consideration, moreover, that in a season of universal peace the market must be without a supply of captives gained in war, that i expected to see but a remnant of the ancient traffic, supposing that i should find but few slaves, and those only black; but, to my surprise, i found there twenty or thirty white women. bad, horrible as this traffic is under any circumstances, to my habits and feelings it loses a shade of its horrors when confined to blacks; but here whites and blacks were exposed together in the same bazar. the women were from circassia and the regions of the caucasus, that country so renowned for beauty; they were dressed in the turkish costume, with the white shawl wrapped around the mouth and chin, and over the forehead, shading the eyes, so that it was difficult to judge with certainty as to their personal appearance. europeans are not permitted to purchase, and their visits to this bazar are looked upon with suspicion. if we stopped long opposite a door, it was closed upon us; but i was not easily shaken off, and returned so often at odd times, that i succeeded in seeing pretty distinctly all that was to be seen. in general, the best slaves are not exposed in the bazars, but are kept at the houses of the dealers; but there was one among them not more than seventeen, with a regular circassian face, a brilliantly fair complexion, a mild and cheerful expression; and in the slave-market, under the partial disguise of the turkish shawl, it required no great effort of the imagination to make her decidedly beautiful. paul stopped, and with a burst of enthusiasm, the first i had discovered in him, exclaimed "quelle beauté!" she noticed my repeatedly stopping before her bazar; and, when i was myself really disposed to be sentimental, instead of drooping her head with the air of a distressed heroine, to my great surprise she laughed and nodded, and beckoned me to come to her. paul was very much struck; and repeating his warm expression of admiration at her beauty, told me that she wanted me to buy her. without waiting for a reply, he went off and inquired the price, which was two hundred and fifty dollars; and added that he could easily get some turk to let me buy her in his name, and then i could put her on board a vessel, and carry her where i pleased. i told him it was hardly worth while at present; and he, thinking my objection was merely to the person, in all honesty and earnestness told me he had been there frequently, and never saw anything half so handsome; adding that, if i let slip this opportunity, i would scarcely have another as good, and wound up very significantly by declaring that, if he was a gentleman, he would not hesitate a moment. a gentleman, in the sense in which paul understood the word, is apt to fall into irregular ways in the east. removed from the restraints which operate upon men in civilized countries, if he once breaks through the trammels of education, he goes all lengths; and it is said to be a matter of general remark, that slaves are always worse treated by europeans than by the turks. the slave-dealers are principally jews, who buy children when young, and, if they have beauty train up the girls in such accomplishments as may fascinate the turks. our guide told us that, since the greek revolution, the slave-market had been comparatively deserted; but, during the whole of that dreadful struggle, every day presented new horrors; new captives were brought in, the men raving and struggling, and vainly swearing eternal vengeance against the turks, and the women shrieking distractedly in the agony of a separation. after the massacre at scio, in particular, hundreds of young girls, with tears streaming down their cheeks, and bursting hearts, were sold to the unhallowed embraces of the turks for a few dollars a head. we saw nothing of the horrors and atrocities of this celebrated slave-market. indeed, except prisoners of war and persons captured by turkish corsairs, the condition of those who now fill the slave-market is not the horrible lot that a warm imagination might suppose. they are mostly persons in a semibarbarous state; blacks from sennaar and abyssinia, or whites from the regions of the caucasus, bought from their parents for a string of beads or a shawl; and, in all probability, the really beautiful girl whom i saw had been sold by parents who could not feed or clothe her, who considered themselves rid of an encumbrance, and whom she left without regret; and she, having left poverty and misery behind her, looked to the slave-market as the sole means of advancing her fortune; and, in becoming the favoured inmate of a harem, expected to attain a degree of happiness she could never have enjoyed at home. i intended to go from constantinople to egypt, but the plague was raging there so violently that it would have been foolhardy to attempt it; and while making arrangements with a tartar to return to europe on horseback across the balkan, striking the danube at semlin and belgrade, a russian government steamer was advertised for odessa; and as this mode of travelling at that moment suited my health better, i altered my whole plan, and determined to leave the ruined countries of the old world for a land just emerging from a state of barbarism, and growing into gigantic greatness. with great regret i took leave of dr. n. and his son, who sailed the same day for smyrna, and i have never seen them since. paul was the last man to whom i said farewell. at the moment of starting my shirts were brought in dripping wet, and paul bestowed a malediction upon the greek while he wrung them out and tumbled them into my carpet-bag. i afterward found him at malta, whence he accompanied me on my tour in egypt, arabia petræa, and the holy land, by which he is, perhaps, already known to some of my readers. with my carpet-bag on the shoulders of a turk, i walked for the last time to tophana. a hundred caiquemen gathered around me, but i pushed them all back, and kept guard over my carpet-bag, looking out for one whom i had been in the habit of employing ever since my arrival in constantinople. he soon spied me; and when he took my luggage and myself into his caique, manifested that he knew it was for the last time. having an hour to spare, i directed him to row once more under the walls of the seraglio; and still loath to leave, i went on shore and walked around the point, until i was stopped by a turkish bayonet. the turk growled, and his mustache curled fiercely as he pointed it at me. i had been stopped by frenchmen, italians, and by a mountain greek, but found nothing that brings a man to such a dead stand as the turkish bayonet. i returned to my caique, and went on board the steamer. she was a russian government vessel, more classically called a pyroscaphe, a miserable old thing; and yet as much form and circumstance were observed in sending her off as in fitting out an _exploring expedition_. consuls' and ambassadors' boats were passing and repassing, and after an enormous fuss and preparation, we started under a salute of cannon, which was answered from one of the sultan's frigates. we had the usual scene of parting with friends, waving of handkerchiefs, and so on; and feeling a little lonely at the idea of leaving a city containing a million inhabitants without a single friend to bid me godspeed, i took my place on the quarter-deck, and waved my handkerchief to my caiqueman, who, i have no doubt, independent of the loss of a few piasters per day, was very sorry to lose me; for we had been so long together, that, in spite of our ignorance of each other's language, we understood each other perfectly. i found on board two englishmen whom i had met at corfu, and a third, who had joined them at smyrna, going to travel in the crimea; our other cabin-passengers were mr. luoff, a russian officer, an aiddecamp of the emperor, just returned from travels in egypt and syria, mr. perseani, secretary to the russian legation in greece; a greek merchant, with a russian protection, on his way to the sea of azoff; and a french merchant of odessa. the tub of a steamboat dashed up the bosphorus at the rate of three miles an hour; while the classic waters, as if indignant at having such a bellowing, blowing, blustering monster upon their surface, seemed to laugh at her unwieldy and ineffectual efforts. slowly we mounted the beautiful strait, lined on the european side almost with one continued range of houses, exhibiting in every beautiful nook a palace of the sultan, and at terapeia and buyukdere the palaces of the foreign ambassadors; passed the giant's mountain, and about an hour before dark were entering a new sea, the dark and stormy euxine. advancing, the hills became more lofty and ragged, terminating on the thracian side in high rocky precipices. the shores of this extremity of the bosphorus were once covered with shrines, altars, and temples, monuments of the fears or gratitude of mariners who were about to leave, or who had escaped, the dangers of the inhospitable euxine; and the remains of these antiquities were so great that a traveller almost in our own day describes the coasts as "covered by their ruins." the castles on the european and the asiatic side of the strait are supposed to occupy the sites where stood, in ancient days, the great temples of jupiter serapis and jupiter urius. the bosphorus opens abruptly, without any enlargement at its mouth, between two mountains. the parting view of the strait, or, rather, of the coast on each side, was indescribably grand, presenting a stupendous wall opposed to the great bed of waters, as if torn asunder by an earthquake, leaving a narrow rent for their escape. on each side, a miserable lantern on the top of a tower, hardly visible at the distance of a few miles, is the only light to guide the mariner at night; and as there is another opening called the false bosphorus, the entrance is difficult and dangerous, and many vessels are lost here annually. as the narrow opening closed before me, i felt myself entering a new world; i was fairly embarked upon that wide expanse of water which once, according to ancient legends, mingled with the caspian, and covered the great oriental plain of tartary, and upon which jason, with his adventurous argonauts, having killed the dragon and carried off the golden fleece from colchis, if those same legends be true (which some doubt), sailed across to the great ocean. i might and should have speculated upon the great changes in the face of nature and the great deluge recorded by grecian historians and poets, which burst the narrow passage of the thracian bosphorus for the outlet of the mighty waters; but who could philosophize in a steamboat on the euxine? oh fulton! much as thou hast done for mechanics and the useful arts, thy hand has fallen rudely upon all cherished associations. we boast of thee; i have myself been proud of thee as an american; but as i sat at evening on the stern of the steamer, and listened to the clatter of the engine, and watched the sparks rushing out of the high pipes, and remembered that this was on the dark and inhospitable euxine, i wished that thy life had begun after mine was ended. i trust i did his memory no wrong; but if i had borne him malice, i could not have wished him worse than to have all his dreams of the past disturbed by the clatter of one of his own engines. i turned away from storied associations to a new country grown up in our own day. we escaped, and, i am obliged to say, without noticing them, the cyaneæ, "the blue symplegades," or "wandering islands," which, lying on the european and asiatic side, floated about, or, according to pliny, "were alive, and moved to and fro more swiftly than the blast," and in passing through which the good ship argo had a narrow escape, and lost the extremity of her stern. history and poetry have invested this sea with extraordinary and ideal terrors; but my experience both of the mediterranean and black sea was unfortunate for realizing historical and poetical accounts. i had known the beautiful mediterranean a sea of storm and sunshine, in which the storm greatly predominated. i found the stormy euxine calm as an untroubled lake; in fact, the black sea is in reality nothing more than a lake, not as large as many of our own, receiving the waters of the great rivers of the north: the don, the cuban, the phase, the dnieper, and the danube, and pouring their collected streams through the narrow passage of the bosphorus into the mediterranean. still, if the number of shipwrecks be any evidence of its character, it is indeed entitled to its ancient reputation of a dangerous sea, though probably these accidents proceed, in a great measure, from the ignorance and unskilfulness of mariners, and the want of proper charts and of suitable lighthouses at the opening of the bosphorus. at all events, we outblustered the winds and waves with our steamboat; passed the serpent isles, the ancient leuce, with a roaring that must have astonished the departed heroes whose souls, according to the ancient poets, were sent there to enjoy perpetual paradise, and scared the aquatic birds which every morning dipped their wings in the sea, and sprinkled the temple of achilles, and swept with their plumage its sacred pavement. [illustration: odessa.] on the third day we made the low coast of moldavia or bess arabia, within a short distance of odessa, the great seaport of southern russia. here, too, there was nothing to realize preconceived notions; for, instead of finding a rugged region of eternal snows, we were suffering under an intensely hot sun when we cast anchor in the harbour of odessa. the whole line of the coast is low and destitute of trees; but odessa is situated on a high bank; and, with its beautiful theatre, the exchange, the palace of the governor, &c., did not look like a city which, thirty years ago, consisted only of a few fishermen's huts. the harbour of odessa is very much exposed to the north and east winds, which often cause great damage to the shipping. many hundred anchors cover the bottom, which cut the rope cables; and, the water being shallow, vessels are often injured by striking on them. an austrian brig going out, having struck one, sank in ten minutes. there are two moles, the quarantine mole, in which we came to anchor, being the principal. quarantine flags were flying about the harbour, the yellow indicating those undergoing purification, and the red the fatal presence of the plague. we were prepared to undergo a vexatious process. at constantinople i had heard wretched accounts of the rude treatment of lazaretto subjects, and the rough, barbarous manners of the russians to travellers, and we had a foretaste of the light in which we were to be regarded, in the conduct of the health-officer who came alongside. he offered to take charge of any letters for the town, purify them that night, and deliver them in the morning; and, according to his directions, we laid them down on the deck, where he took them up with a pair of long iron tongs, and putting them into an iron box, shut it up and rowed off. in the morning, having received notice that the proper officers were ready to attend us, we went ashore. we landed in separate boats at the end of a long pier, and, forgetting our supposed pestiferous influence, were walking up toward a crowd of men whom we saw there, when their retrograde movements, their gestures, and unintelligible shouts reminded us of our situation. one of our party, in a sort of ecstasy at being on shore, ran capering up the docks, putting to flight a group of idlers, and, single-handed, might have depopulated the city of odessa, if an ugly soldier with a bayonet had not met him in full career and put a stop to his gambols. the soldier conducted us to a large building at the upper end of the pier; and carefully opening the door, and falling back so as to avoid even the wind that might blow from us in his direction, told us to go in. at the other end of a large room, divided by two parallel railings, sat officers and clerks to examine our passports and take a general account of us. we were at once struck with the military aspect of things, every person connected with the establishment wearing a military uniform; and now commenced a long process. the first operation was to examine our passports, take down our names, and make a memorandum of the purposes for which we severally entered the dominions of the emperor and autocrat of all the russias. we were all called up, one after the other, captain, cook, and cabin-boy, cabin and deck passengers; and never, perhaps, did steamboat pour forth a more motley assemblage than we presented. we were jews, turks, and christians; russians, poles, and germans; english, french, and italians; austrians, greeks, and illyrians; moldavians, wallachians, bulgarians, and sclavonians; armenians, georgians, and africans; and one american. i had before remarked the happy facility of the russians in acquiring languages, and i saw a striking instance in the officer who conducted the examination, and who addressed every man in his own language with apparently as much facility as though it had been his native tongue. after the oral commenced a corporeal examination. we were ordered one by one into an adjoining room, where, on the other side of a railing, stood a doctor, who directed us to open our shirt bosoms, and slap our hands smartly under our arms and upon our groins, these being the places where the fatal plague-marks first exhibit themselves. this over, we were forthwith marched to the lazaretto, escorted by guards and soldiers, who behaved very civilly and kept at a respectful distance from us. among our deck passengers were forty or fifty jews, dirty and disgusting objects, just returned from a pilgrimage to jerusalem. an old man, who seemed to be, in a manner, the head of the party, and exceeded them all in rags and filthiness, but was said to be rich, in going up to the lazaretto amused us and vexed the officers by sitting down on the way, paying no regard to them when they urged him on, being perfectly assured that they would not dare to touch him. once he resolutely refused to move; they threatened and swore at him, but he kept his place until one got a long pole and punched him on ahead. in this way we entered the lazaretto; but if it had not been called by that name, and if we had not looked upon it as a place where we were compelled to stay for a certain time, nolens volens, we should have considered it a beautiful spot. it is situated on high ground, within an enclosure of some fifteen or twenty acres, overlooking the black sea, laid out in lawn and gravel walks, and ornamented with rows of acacia-trees. fronting the sea was a long range of buildings divided into separate apartments, each with a little courtyard in front containing two or three acacias. the director, a fine, military-looking man, with a decoration on his lapel, met us on horseback within the enclosure, and with great suavity of manner said that he could not bid us welcome to a prison, but that we should have the privilege of walking at will over the grounds, and visiting each other, subject only to the attendance of a guardiano; and that all that could contribute to our comfort should be done for us. we then selected our rooms, and underwent another personal examination. this was the real touchstone; the first was a mere preliminary observation by a medical understrapper; but this was conducted by a more knowing doctor. we were obliged to strip naked; to give up the clothes we pulled off, and put on a flannel gown, drawers, and stockings, and a woollen cap provided by the government, until our own should be smoked and purified. in everything, however, the most scrupulous regard was paid to our wishes, and a disposition was manifested by all to make this rather vexatious proceeding as little annoying as possible. the bodily examination was as delicate as the nature of the case would admit; for the doctor merely opened the door, looked in, and went out without taking his hand from off the knob. it was none of my business, i know, and may be thought impertinent, but, as he closed the door, i could not help calling him back to ask him whether he held the same inquisition upon the fair sex; to which he replied with a melancholy upturning of the eyes that in the good old days of russian barbarism this had been part of his duties, but that the march of improvement had invaded his rights, and given this portion of his professional duties to a _sage femme_. all our effects were then taken to another chamber, and arranged on lines, each person superintending the disposition of his own, so as to prevent all confusion, and left there to be fumigated with sulphuric acid for twenty-four hours. so particular were they in fumigating everything susceptible of infection, that i was obliged to leave there a black riband which i wore round my neck as a guard to my watch. toward evening the principal director, one of the most gentlemanly men i ever met, came round, and with many apologies and regrets for his inability to receive us better, requested us to call upon him freely for anything we might want. not knowing any of us personally, he did me the honour to say that he understood there was an american in the party, who had been particularly recommended to him by a russian officer and fellow-passenger. afterward came the commissary, or chief of the department, and repeated the same compliments, and left us with an exalted opinion of russian politeness. i had heard horrible accounts of the rough treatment of travellers in russia, and i made a note at the time, lest after vexations should make me forget it, that i had received more politeness and civility from these northern barbarians, as they are called by the people of the south of europe, than i ever found amid their boasted civilization. having still an hour before dark, i strolled out, followed by my guardiano, to take a more particular survey of our prison. in a gravel walk lined with acacias, immediately before the door of my little courtyard, i came suddenly upon a lady of about eighteen, whose dark hair and eyes i at once recognised as grecian, leading by the hand a little child. i am sure my face brightened at the first glimpse of this vision which promised to shine upon us in our solitude; and perhaps my satisfaction was made too manifest by my involuntarily moving toward her. but my presumption received a severe and mortifying check; for though at first she merely crossed to the other side of the walk, she soon forgot all ceremony, and, fairly dragging the child after her, ran over the grass to another walk to avoid me; my mortification, however, was but temporary; for though, in the first impulse of delight and admiration, i had forgotten time, place, and circumstance, the repulse i had received made me turn to myself, and i was glad to find an excuse for the lady's flight in the flannel gown and long cap and slippers, which marked me as having just entered upon my season of purification. i was soon initiated into the routine of lazaretto ceremonies and restrictions. by touching a quarantine patient, both parties are subjected to the longest term of either; so that if a person, on the last day of his term, should come in contact with another just entered, he would lose all the benefit of his days of purification, and be obliged to wait the full term of the latter. i have seen, in various situations in life, a system of operations called keeping people at a distance, but i never saw it so effectually practised as in quarantine. for this night, at least, i had full range. i walked where i pleased, and was very sure that every one would keep out of my way. during the whole time, however, i could not help treasuring up the precipitate flight of the young lady; and i afterward told her, and, i hope, with the true spirit of one ready to return good for evil, that if she had been in my place, and the days of my purification had been almost ended, in spite of plague and pestilence she might have rushed into my arms without my offering the least impediment. in making the tour of the grounds, i had already an opportunity of observing the relation in which men stand to each other in russia. when an officer spoke to a soldier, the latter stood motionless as a statue, with his head uncovered during the whole of the conference; and when a soldier on guard saw an officer, no matter at what distance, he presented arms, and remained in that position until the officer was out of sight. returning, i passed a grating, through which i saw our deck passengers, forty or fifty in number, including the jewish pilgrims, miserable, dirty-looking objects, turned in together for fourteen days, to eat, drink, and sleep as best they might, like brutes. with a high idea of the politeness of the russians toward the rich and great, or those whom they believed to be so, and with a strong impression already received confirming the accounts of the degraded condition of the lower classes, i returned to my room, and, with a frenchman and a greek for my room-mates, my window opening upon the black sea, i spent my first night in quarantine. chapter xiv. the guardiano.--one too many.--an excess of kindness.--the last day of quarantine.--mr. baguet.--rise of odessa.--city-making.--count woronzow.--a gentleman farmer.--an american russian. i shall pass over briefly the whole of our _pratique_. the next morning i succeeded in getting a room to myself. a guardiano was assigned to each room, who took his place in the antechamber, and was always in attendance. these guardianos are old soldiers, entitled by the rules of the establishment to so much a day; but, as they always expect a gratuity, their attention and services are regulated by that expectation. i was exceedingly fortunate in mine; he was always in the antechamber, cleaning his musket, mending his clothes, or stretched on a mattress looking at the wall; and, whenever i came through with my hat on, without a word he put on his belt and followed me; and very soon, instead of regarding him as an encumbrance, i became accustomed to him, and it was a satisfaction to have him with me. sometimes, in walking for exercise, i moved so briskly that it tired him to keep up with me; and then i selected a walk where he could sit down and keep his eye upon me, while i walked backward and forward before him. besides this, he kept my room in order, set my table, carried my notes, brushed my clothes, and took better care of me than any servant i ever had. our party consisted of eight, and being subjected to the same quarantine, and supposed to have the same quantum of infection, we were allowed to visit each other; and every afternoon we met in the yard, walked an hour or two, took tea together, and returned to our own rooms, where our guardianos mounted guard in the antechamber; our gates were locked up, and a soldier walked outside as sentinel. i was particularly intimate with the russian officer, whom i found one of the most gentlemanly, best educated, and most amiable men i ever met. he had served and been wounded in the campaign against poland; had with him two soldiers, his own serfs, who had served under him in that campaign, and had accompanied him in his tour in egypt and syria. he gave me his address at st. petersburgh and promised me the full benefit of his acquaintance there. i have before spoken of the three englishmen. two of them i had met at corfu; the third joined them at smyrna, and added another proof to the well-established maxim that three spoil company; for i soon found that they had got together by the ears; and the new-comer having connected himself with one of the others, they were anxious to get rid of the third. many causes of offence existed between them; and though they continued to room together, they were merely waiting till the end of our pratique for an opportunity to separate. one morning the one who was about being thrown off came to my room, and told me that he did not care about going to the crimea, and proposed accompanying me. this suited me very well; it was a long and expensive journey, and would cost a mere fraction more for two than for one; and when the breach was widened past all possibility of being healed, the cast-off and myself agreed to travel together. i saw much of the secretary of legation, and also of the greek and frenchman, my room-mates for the first night. indeed, i think i may say that i was an object of special interest to all our party. i was unwell, and my companions overwhelmed me with prescriptions and advice; they brought in their medicine chests; one assuring me that he had been cured by this, another by that, and each wanted me to swallow his own favourite medicine, interlarding their advice with anecdotes of whole sets of passengers who had been detained, some forty, some fifty, and some sixty days, by the accidental sickness of one. i did all i could for them, always having regard to the circumstance that it was not of such vital importance to me, at least, to hold out fourteen days if i broke down on the fifteenth. in a few days the doctor, in one of his rounds, told me he understood i was unwell, and i confessed to him the reason of my withholding the fact, and took his prescriptions so well, that, at parting, he gave me a letter to a friend in chioff, and to his brother, a distinguished professor in the university at st. petersburgh. we had a restaurant in the lazaretto, with a new bill of fare every day; not first-rate, perhaps, but good enough. i had sent a letter of introduction to mr. baguet, the spanish consul, also to a german, the brother of a missionary at constantinople, and a note to mr. ralli, the american consul, and had frequent visits from them, and long talks at the parlatoria through the grating. the german was a knowing one, and came often; he had a smattering of english, and would talk in that language, as i thought, in compliment to me; but the last time he came he thanked me kindly, and told me he had improved more in his english than by a year's study. when i got out he never came near me. sunday, june seventh, was our last day in quarantine. we had counted the days anxiously; and though our time had passed as agreeably as, under the circumstances, it could pass, we were in high spirits at the prospect of our liberation. to the last, the attention and civility of the officers of the yard continued unremitted. every morning regularly the director knocked at each gate to inquire how we had passed the night, and whether he could do anything for us; then the doctor, to inquire into our corporeal condition; and every two or three days, toward evening, the director, with the same decoration on the lapel of his coat, and at the same hour, inquired whether we had any complaints to make of want of attendance or improper treatment. our last day in the lazaretto is not to be forgotten. we kept as clear of the rest of the inmates as if they had been pickpockets, though once i was thrown into a cold sweat by an act of forgetfulness. a child fell down before me; i sprang forward to pick him up, and should infallibly have been fixed for ten days longer if my guardiano had not caught me. lingering for the last time on the walk overlooking the black sea, i saw a vessel coming up under full sail, bearing, as i thought, the american flag. my heart almost bounded at seeing the stars and stripes on the black sea; but i was deceived; and almost dejected with the disappointment, called my guardiano, and returned for the last time to my room. the next morning we waited in our rooms till the doctor paid his final visit, and soon after we all gathered before the door of the directory, ready to sally forth. every one who has made a european voyage knows the metamorphosis in the appearance of the passengers on the day of landing. it was much the same with us; we had no more slipshod, long-bearded companions, but all were clean shirted and shaved becomingly, except our old jew and his party, who probably had not changed a garment or washed their faces since the first day in quarantine, nor perhaps for many years before. they were people from whom, under any circumstances, one would be apt to keep at a respectful distance; and to the last they carried everything before them. we had still another vexatious process in passing our luggage through the custom-house. we had handed in a list of all our effects the night before, in which i intentionally omitted to mention byron's poems, these being prohibited in russia. he had been my companion in italy and greece, and i was loath to part with him; so i put the book under my arm, threw my cloak over me, and walked out unmolested. outside the gate there was a general shaking of hands; the director, whom we had seen every day at a distance, was the first to greet us, and mr. baguet, the brother of the spanish consul, who was waiting to receive me, welcomed me to russia. with sincere regret i bade good-by to my old soldier, mounted a drosky, and in ten minutes was deposited in a hotel, in size and appearance equal to the best in paris. it was a pleasure once more to get into a wheel-carriage; i had not seen one since i left italy, except the old hack i mentioned at argos, and the arabas at constantinople. it was a pleasure, too, to see hats, coats, and pantaloons. early associations will cling to a man; and, in spite of a transient admiration for the dashing costume of the greek and turk, i warmed to the ungraceful covering of civilized man, even to the long surtout and bell-crowned hat of the russian marchand; and, more than all, i was attracted by an appearance of life and energy particularly striking after coming from among the dead-and-alive turks. while in quarantine i had received an invitation to dine with mr. baguet, and had barely time to make one tour of the city in a drosky before it was necessary to dress for dinner. mr. baguet was a bachelor of about forty, living in pleasant apartments, in an unpretending and gentlemanly style. as in all the ports of the levant, except where there are ambassadors, the consuls are the nobility of the place. several of them were present; and the european consuls in those places are a different class of men from ours, as they are paid by salaries from their respective governments, while ours, who receive no pay, are generally natives of the place, who serve for the honour or some other accidental advantage. we had, therefore, the best society in odessa at mr. baguet's, the american consul not being present, which, by-the-way, i do not mean in a disrespectful sense, as mr. ralli seemed every way deserving of all the benefits that the station gives. in the evening the consul and myself took two or three turns on the boulevards, and at about eleven i returned to my hotel. after what i have said of this establishment, the reader will be surprised to learn that, when i went to my room, i found there a bedstead, but no bed or bedclothes. i supposed it was neglect, and ordered one to be prepared; but, to my surprise, was told that there were no beds in the hotel. it was kept exclusively for the rich seigneurs who always carry their own beds with them. luckily, the bedstead was not corded, but contained a bottom of plain slabs of wood, about six or eight inches wide, and the same distance apart, laid crosswise, so that lengthwise there was no danger of falling through; and wrapping myself in my cloak, and putting my carpet-bag under my head, i went to sleep. before breakfast the next morning i had learned the topography of odessa. to an american russia is an interesting country. true, it is not classic ground; but as for me, who had now travelled over the faded and wornout kingdoms of the old world, i was quite ready for something new. like our own, russia is a new country, and in many respects resembles ours. it is true that we began life differently. russia has worked her way to civilization from a state of absolute barbarism, while we sprang into being with the advantage of all the lights of the old world. still there are many subjects of comparison, and even of emulation, between us; and nowhere in all russia is there a more proper subject to begin with than my first landing-place. odessa is situated in a small bay between the mouths of the dnieper and dniester. forty years ago it consisted of a few miserable fishermen's huts on the shores of the black sea. in the empress catharine resolved to built a city there; and the turks being driven from the dominion of the black sea, it became a place of resort and speculation for the english, austrians, neapolitans, dutch, ragusans, and greeks of the ionian republic. in eighteen hundred and two, two hundred and eighty vessels arrived from constantinople and the mediterranean; and the duke de richelieu, being appointed governor-general by alexander, laid out a city upon a gigantic scale, which, though at first its growth was not commensurate with his expectations, now contains sixty thousand inhabitants, and bids fair to realize the extravagant calculations of its founder. mr. baguet and the gentlemen whom i met at his table were of opinion that it is destined to be the greatest commercial city in russia, as the long winters and the closing of the baltic with ice must ever be a great disadvantage to st. petersburgh; and the interior of the country can as well be supplied from odessa as from the northern capital. there is no country where cities have sprung up so fast and increased so rapidly as in ours; and, altogether, perhaps nothing in the world can be compared with our buffalo, rochester, cincinnati, &c. but odessa has grown faster than any of these, and has nothing of the appearance of one of our new cities. we are both young, and both marching with gigantic strides to greatness, but we move by different roads; and the whole face of the country, from the new city on the borders of the black sea to the steppes of siberia, shows a different order of government and a different constitution of society. with us, a few individuals cut down the trees of the forest, or settle themselves by the banks of a stream, where they happen to find some local advantages, and build houses suited to their necessities; others come and join them; and, by degrees, the little settlement becomes a large city. but here a gigantic government, endowed almost with creative powers, says, "let there be a city," and immediately commences the erection of large buildings. the rich seigneurs follow the lead of government, and build hotels to let out in apartments. the theatre, casino, and exchange at odessa are perhaps superior to any buildings in the united states. the city is situated on an elevation about a hundred feet above the sea; a promenade three quarters of a mile long, terminated at one end by the exchange, and at the other by the palace of the governor, is laid out in front along the margin of the sea, bounded on one side by an abrupt precipice, and adorned with trees, shrubs, flowers, statues, and busts, like the garden of the tuileries, the borghese villa, or the villa recali at naples. on the other side is a long range of hotels built of stone, running the whole length of the boulevards, some of them with façades after the best models in italy. a broad street runs through the centre of the city, terminating with a semicircular enlargement at the boulevards, and in the centre of this stands a large equestrian statue erected to the duke de richelieu; and parallel and at right angles are wide streets lined with large buildings, according to the most approved plans of modern architecture. the custom which the people have of taking apartments in hotels causes the erection of large buildings, which add much to the general appearance of the city; while with us, the universal disposition of every man to have a house to himself, conduces to the building of small houses, and, consequently, detracts from general effect. the city, as yet, is not generally paved, and is, consequently, so dusty, that every man is obliged to wear a light cloak to save his dress. paving-stone is brought from trieste and malta, and is very expensive. about two o'clock mr. ralli, our consul, called upon me. mr. ralli is a greek of scio. he left his native island when a boy; has visited every port in europe as a merchant, and lived for the last eight years in odessa. he has several brothers in england, trieste, and some of the greek islands, and all are connected in business. when mr. rhind, who negotiated our treaty with the porte, left odessa, he authorized mr. ralli to transact whatever consular business might be required, and on his recommendation mr. ralli afterward received a regular appointment as consul. mr. rhind, by-the-way, expected a great trade from opening the black sea to american bottoms; but he was wrong in his anticipations, and there have been but two american vessels there since the treaty. mr. ralli is rich and respected, being vice-president of the commercial board, and very proud of the honour of the american consulate, as it gives him a position among the dignitaries of the place, enables him to wear a uniform and sword on public occasions, and yields him other privileges which are gratifying, at least, if not intrinsically valuable. no traveller can pass through odessa without having to acknowledge the politeness of count woronzow, the governor of the crimea, one of the richest seigneurs in russia, and one of the pillars of the throne. at the suggestion of mr. ralli, i accompanied him to the palace and was presented. the palace is a magnificent building, and the interior exhibits a combination of wealth and taste. the walls are hung with italian paintings, and, for interior ornaments and finish, the palace is far superior to those in italy; the knobs of the doors are of amber, and the doors of the dining-room from the old imperial palace at st. petersburgh. the count is a military-looking man of about fifty, six feet high, with sallow complexion and gray hair. his father married an english lady of the sidney family, and his sister married the earl of pembroke. he is a soldier in bearing and appearance, held a high rank during the french invasion of russia, and distinguished himself particularly at borodino; in rank and power he is the fourth military officer in the empire. he possesses immense wealth in all parts of russia, particularly in the crimea; and his wife's mother, after demidoff and scheremetieff, is the richest subject in the whole empire. he speaks english remarkably well, and, after a few commonplaces, with his characteristic politeness to strangers, invited me to dine at the palace the next day. i was obliged to decline, and he himself suggested the reason, that probably i was engaged with my countryman, mr. sontag (of whom more anon), whom the count referred to as his old friend, adding that he would not interfere with the pleasure of a meeting between two countrymen so far from home, and asked me for the day after, or any other day i pleased. i apologized on the ground of my intended departure, and took my leave. my proposed travelling companion had committed to me the whole arrangements for our journey, or, more properly, had given me the whole trouble of making them; and, accompanied by one of mr. ralli's clerks, i visited all the carriage repositories to purchase a vehicle, after which i accompanied mr. ralli to his country-house to dine. he occupied a pretty little place a few versts from odessa, with a large fruit and ornamental garden. mr. ralli's lady is also a native of greece, with much of the cleverness and _spirituelle_ character of the educated greeks. one of her _bons mots_ current in odessa is, that her husband is consul for the other world. a young italian, with a very pretty wife, dined with us, and, after dinner and a stroll through the garden, we walked over to mr. perseani's, the father of our russian secretary; another walk in the garden with a party of ladies, tea, and i got back to odessa in time for a walk on the boulevards and the opera. before my attention was turned to odessa, i should as soon have thought of an opera-house at chicago as there; but i already found, what impressed itself more forcibly upon me at every step, that russia is a country of anomalies. the new city on the black sea contains many french and italian residents, who are willing to give all that is not necessary for food and clothing for the opera; the russians themselves are passionately fond of musical and theatrical entertainments, and government makes up all deficiencies. the interior of the theatre corresponds with the beauty of its exterior. all the decorations are in good taste, and the corinthian columns, running from the foot to the top, particularly beautiful. the opera was the barber of seville; the company in _full_ undress, and so barbarous as to pay attention to the performance. i came out at about ten o'clock, and, after a turn or two on the boulevards, took an icecream at the café of the hotel de petersbourgh. this hotel is beautifully situated on one corner of the main street, fronting the boulevards, and opposite the statue of the duke de richelieu; and looking from the window of the café, furnished and fitted up in a style superior to most in paris, upon the crowd still thronging the boulevards, i could hardly believe that i was really on the borders of the black sea. having purchased a carriage and made all my arrangements for starting, i expected to pass this day with an unusual degree of satisfaction, and i was not disappointed. i have mentioned incidentally the name of a countryman resident in odessa; and, being so far from home, i felt a yearning toward an american. in france or italy i seldom had this feeling, for there americans congregate in crowds; but in greece and turkey i always rejoiced to meet a compatriot; and when, on my arrival at odessa, before going into the lazaretto, the captain told me that there was an american residing there, high in character and office, who had been twenty years in russia, i requested him to present my compliments, and say that, if he had not forgotten his fatherland, a countryman languishing in the lazaretto would be happy to see him through the gratings of his prison-house. i afterward regretted having sent this message, as i heard from other sources that he was a prominent man, and during the whole term of my quarantine i never heard from him personally. i was most agreeably disappointed, however, when, on the first day of my release, i met him at dinner at the spanish consul's. he had been to the crimea with count woronzow; had only returned that morning, and had never heard of my being there until invited to meet me at dinner. i had wronged him by my distrust; for, though twenty years an exile, his heart beat as true as when he left our shores. who can shake off the feeling that binds him to his native land? not hardships nor disgrace at home; not favour nor success abroad; not even time, can drive from his mind the land of his birth or the friends of his youthful days. general sontag was a native of philadelphia; had been in our navy, and served as sailing-master on board the wasp; became dissatisfied from some cause which he did not mention, left our navy, entered the russian, and came round to the black sea as captain of a frigate; was transferred to the land service, and, in the campaign of , entered paris with the allied armies as colonel of a regiment. in this campaign he formed a friendship with count woronzow, which exists in full force at this day. he left the army with the rank of brigadier-general. by the influence of count woronzow, he was appointed inspector of the port of odessa, in which office he stood next in rank to the governor of the crimea, and, in fact, on one occasion, during the absence of count woronzow, lived in the palace and acted as governor for eight months. he married a lady of rank, with an estate and several hundred slaves at moscow; wears two or three ribands at his buttonhole, badges of different orders; has gone through the routine of offices and honours up to the grade of grand counsellor of the empire; and a letter addressed to him under the title of "his excellency" will come to the right hands. he was then living at his country place, about eight versts from odessa, and asked me to go out and pass the next day with him. i was strongly tempted, but, in order that i might have the full benefit of it, postponed the pleasure until i had completed my arrangements for travelling. the next day general sontag called upon me, but i did not see him; and this morning, accompanied by mr. baguet the younger, i rode out to his place. the land about odessa is a dead level, the road was excessively dry, and we were begrimed with dust when we arrived. general sontag was waiting for us, and, in the true spirit of an american farmer at home, proposed taking us over his grounds. his farm is his hobby; it contains about six hundred acres, and we walked all over it. his crop was wheat, and, although i am no great judge of these matters, i think i never saw finer. he showed me a field of very good wheat, which had not been sowed in three years, but produced by the fallen seed of the previous crops. we compared it with our genesee wheat, and to me it was an interesting circumstance to find an american cultivating land on the black sea, and comparing it with the products of our genesee flats, with which he was perfectly familiar. one thing particularly struck me, though, as an american, perhaps i ought not to have been so sensitive. a large number of men were at work in the field, and they were all slaves. such is the force of education and habit, that i have seen hundreds of black slaves without a sensation; but it struck rudely upon me to see white men slaves to an american, and he one whose father had been a soldier of the revolution, and had fought to sustain the great principle that "all men are by nature free and equal." mr. sontag told me that he valued his farm at about six thousand dollars, on which he could live well, have a bottle of crimea wine, and another every day for a friend, and lay up one thousand dollars a year; but i afterward heard that he was a complete enthusiast on the subject of his farm; a bad manager, and that he really knew nothing of its expense or profit. returning to the house, we found madame sontag ready to receive us. she is an authoress of great literary reputation, and of such character that, while the emperor was prosecuting the turkish war in person, and the empress remained at odessa, the young archduchesses were placed under her charge. at dinner she talked with much interest of america, and expressed a hope, though not much expectation, of one day visiting it. but general sontag himself, surrounded as he is by russian connexions, is all american. pointing to the riband on his buttonhole, he said he was entitled to one order which he should value above all others; that his father had been a soldier of the revolution, and member of the cincinnati society, and that in russia the decoration of that order would be to him the proudest badge of honour that an american could wear. after dining we retired into a little room fitted up as a library, which he calls america, furnished with all the standard american books, irving, paulding, cooper, &c., engravings of distinguished americans, maps, charts, canal and railroad reports, &c.; and his daughter, a lovely little girl and only child, has been taught to speak her father's tongue and love her father's land. in honour of me she played on the piano "hail columbia" and "yankee doodle," and the day wore away too soon. we took tea on the piazza, and at parting i received from him a letter to his agent on his estate near moscow, and from madame sontag one which carried me into the imperial household, being directed to monsieur l'intendant du prince héritiere, petersbourgh. a few weeks ago i received from him a letter, in which he says, "the visit of one of my countrymen is so great a treat, that i can assure you, you are never forgotten by any one of my little family; and when my daughter wishes to make me smile, she is sure to succeed if she sits down to her piano and plays 'hail columbia' or 'yankee doodle;' this brings to mind mr. ----, mr. ----, mr. ----, and mr. ----, who have passed through this city; to me alone it brings to mind my country, parents, friends, youth, and a world of things and ideas past, never to return. should any of our countrymen be coming this way, do not forget to inform them that in odessa lives one who will be glad to see them;" and i say now to any of my countrymen whom chance may throw upon the shores of the black sea, that if he would receive so far from home the welcome of a true-hearted american, general sontag will be glad to render it. it was still early in the evening when i returned to the city. it was moonlight, and i walked immediately to the boulevards. i have not spoken as i ought to have done of this beautiful promenade, on which i walked every evening under the light of a splendid moon. the boulevards are bounded on one side by the precipitous shore of the sea; are three quarters of a mile in length, with rows of trees on each side, gravel walks and statues, and terminated at one end by the exchange, and at the other by the palace of count woronzow. at this season of the year it was the promenade of all the beauty and fashion of odessa, from an hour or two before dark until midnight. this evening the moon was brighter, and the crowd was greater and gayer than usual. the great number of officers, with their dashing uniforms, the clashing of their swords, and rattling of their spurs, added to the effect; and woman never looks so interesting as when leaning on the arm of a soldier. even in italy or greece i have seldom seen a finer moonlight scene than the columns of the exchange through the vista of trees lining the boulevards. i expected to leave the next day, and i lingered till a late hour. i strolled up and down the promenade, alone among thousands. i sat down upon a bench, and looked for the last time on the black sea, the stormy euxine, quiet in the moonbeams, and glittering like a lake of burnished silver. by degrees the gay throng disappeared; one after another, party after party withdrew; a few straggling couples, seeming all the world to each other, still lingered, like me, unable to tear themselves away. it was the hour and the place for poetry and feeling. a young officer and a lady were the last to leave; they passed by me, but did not notice me; they had lost all outward perceptions; and as, in passing for the last time, she raised her head for a moment, and the moon shone full upon her face, i saw there an expression that spoke of heaven. i followed them as they went out, murmured involuntarily "happy dog," whistled "heighho, says thimble," and went to my hotel to bed. end of vol. i. list of corrections: p. iii, preface: "egypt, arabia petræ, and the holy land." was changed to "egypt, arabia petræa, and the holy land." p. : "that we coud" was changed to "that we could." p. : "friends in this county" was changed to "friends in this country." p. : "but we connot" was changed to "but we cannot." p. : "gate of the lyons" was changed to "gate of the lions" as in the rest of the book. p. : "to favour such a suiter" was changed to "to favour such a suitor." p. : "it is confirmed by poetry, hat" was changed to "it is confirmed by poetry, that." p. : "the jackall's cry was heard" was changed to "the jackal's cry was heard." p. : "cartainly whip them" was changed to "certainly whip them." p. : "threade our way" was changed to "threaded our way." p. : "cachmere shawls" was changed to "cashmere shawls." p. : "the phase, the dneiper, and the danube" was changed to "the phase, the dnieper, and the danube." p. : "the mouths of the dneiper and dneister" was changed to "the mouths of the dnieper and dniester." p. : "quiet in the moonbeans" was changed to "quiet in the moonbeams." errata: the summary in the table of contents is not always consistent with the summary at the beginning of each chapter. the original has been retained. transcriber's notes: punctuation and hyphenation have been normalised. variable, archaic or unusual spelling has been retained. a list of the few corrections made can found at the end of the book. italics indicated by _underscores_. [illustration: greece, turkey, _part of_ russia & poland.] incidents of travel in greece, turkey, russia and poland. by the author of "incidents of travel in egypt, arabia petrÆa, and the holy land." with a map and engravings. in two volumes. vol. ii. seventh edition. new york: harper & brothers, publishers, & pearl street, franklin square. . entered, according to act of congress, in the year , by harper & brothers, in the clerk's office of the southern district of new york. contents of the second volume. chapter i. page choice of a conveyance.--hiring a servant.--another american.--beginning of troubles.--a bivouac.--russian jews.--the steppes of russia.--a _traveller's_ story.--approach to chioff.--how to get rid of a servant.--history of chioff. chapter ii. a lucky encounter.--church of the catacombs.--a visit to the saints.--a tender parting.--pilgrims.--rough treatment.--a scene of starvation.--russian serfs.--devotion of the serfs.--approach to moscow. chapter iii. moscow.--a severe operation.--an exile by accident.--meeting with an emigré.--a civil stranger.--a spy.--the kremlin.--sepulchres of the czars.--the great bell.--the great gun.--precious relics. chapter iv. the drosky.--salle des nobles.--russian gaming.--gastronomy.--pedroski.--a sunday in moscow.--a gipsy belle.--tea drinking.--the emperor's garden.--retrospective. chapter v. getting a passport.--parting with the marquis.--the language of signs.--a loquacious traveller.--from moscow to st. petersburgh.--the wolga.--novogorod.--newski perspective.--an unfortunate mistake.--northern twilight. chapter vi. police requisites.--the russian capital.--equestrian statue of peter the great.--the alexandrian column.--architectural wonders.--the summer islands.--a perilous achievement.--origin of st. petersburgh.--tombs of dead monarchs.--origin of the russian navy. chapter vii. a carroty pole.--the winter palace.--importance of a hat.--an artificial mine.--remains of a huge monster.--peter the great's workshop.--the greek religion.--tomb of a hero.--a saint militant.--another love affair.--the hermitage.--the winter and summer gardens. chapter viii. an imperial fête.--nicolas of russia.--varied splendours.--a soliloquy.--house of peter the great.--a boatrace.--czarskoselo.--the amber chamber.--catharine ii.--the emperor alexander. chapter ix. the soldier's reward.--review of the russian army.--american cannibals.--palace of potemkin.--palace of the grand-duke michael.--equipments for travelling.--rough riding.--poland.--vitepsk.--napoleon in poland.--the disastrous retreat.--passage of the berezina. chapter x. travel by night.--a rencounter.--a traveller's message.--lithuania.--poverty of the country.--agricultural implements.--minsk.--polish jews.--a coin of freedom.--riding in a basket.--brezc.--the bug.--a searching operation.--women labourers.--warsaw. chapter xi. warsaw.--a polish doctor.--battle of grokow.--the outbreak.--the fatal issue.--present condition of poland.--polish exiles.--aspect of warsaw.--traits of the poles. chapter xii. religion of poland.--sunday in warsaw.--baptized jews.--palaces of the polish kings.--sobieski.--field of vola.--wreck of a warrior.--the poles in america.--a polish lady.--troubles of a passport.--departure from warsaw.--an official rachel.--a mysterious visiter. chapter xiii. friendly solicitude.--raddom.--symptoms of a difficulty.--a court of inquisition.--showing a proper spirit.--troubles thickening.--approaching the climax.--woman's influence.--the finale.--utility of the classics.--another latinist.--a lucky accident.--arrival at cracow. chapter xiv. cracow.--casimir the great.--kosciusko.--tombs of the polish kings.--a polish heroine.--last words of a king.--a hero in decay.--the salt-mines of cracow.--the descent.--the mines.--underground meditations.--the farewell. incidents of travel in greece, turkey, russia, and poland. chapter i. choice of a conveyance.--hiring a servant.--another american.--beginning of troubles.--a bivouac.--russian jews.--the steppes of russia.--a _traveller's_ story.--approach to chioff.--how to get rid of a servant.--history of chioff. i had before me a journey of nearly two thousand miles, through a country more than half barbarous, and entirely destitute of all accommodation for travellers. southern russia was the scythia of darius, "savage from the remotest time." "all the way," says an old traveller, "i never came in a house, but lodged in the wilderness by the river side, and carried provisions by the way, for there be small succour in those parts;" and we were advised that a century had made but little change in the interior of the empire. there were no public conveyances, and we had our choice of three modes of travelling; first, by a jew's wagon, in which the traveller stretches out his bed, and is trundled along like a bale of goods, always with the same horses, and therefore, of necessity, making slow progress; secondly, the char de poste, a mere box of wood on four wheels, with straw in the bottom; very fast, but to be changed always with the posthorses; and, thirdly, posting with our own carriage. we did not hesitate long in choosing the last, and bought a carriage, fortunately a good one, a large calêche which an italian nobleman had had made for his own use in travelling on the continent, and which he now sold, not because he did not want it, but because he wanted money more. next we procured a podoroshni, under which, "by order of his majesty nicolas the first, autocrat of all the russias, from odessa to moscow and petersburgh, all the postoffices were commanded to give ---- and ----, with their servant, four horses with their drivers, at the price fixed by law." besides this, it was necessary to give security that we left no debts behind us; and if mr. ralli undertakes for all americans the same obligation he did for me, it may happen that his office of consul will be no sinecure. next, and this was no trifling matter, we got our passports arranged; the russian ambassador at constantinople, by-the-way, had given me a new passport in russian, and my companion, that he might travel with the advantages of rank and title, got himself made "noble" by an extra stroke of his consul's pen. the last thing was to engage a servant. we had plenty of applications, but, as very few talked any language we understood, we had not much choice, one, a german, a capital fellow, was exactly the man we wanted, only he could not speak a word of russian, which was the principal qualification we required in a servant. at length came a frenchman, with an unusual proportion of whiskers and mustaches, and one of the worst of the desperate emigrés whom the french revolution, or, rather, the restoration, sent roaming in foreign lands. he had naturally a most unprepossessing physiognomy, and this was heightened by a sabre-cut which had knocked out several of his teeth, and left a huge gash in his cheek and lip, and, moreover, made him speak very unintelligibly. when i asked him if he was a frenchman, he drew himself up with great dignity, and replied, "monsieur je suis _parisien_." his appearance was a gross libel upon the parisians; but, as we could get no one else, we took him upon little recommendation the day before our departure, and, during the same day, threatened half a dozen times to discharge him. the police regulation, obliging him to pay his debts before leaving odessa, he seemed to consider peculiarly hard; and, all the time he was with us, kept referring to his having been obliged to fritter away thirty or forty rubles before he could leave. we ought to have furnished ourselves with provisions for the whole road to moscow, and even cooking utensils; but we neglected it, and carried with us only tea and sugar, a tin teapot, two tin cups, two tin plates, two knives and forks, and some bologna sausages, trusting, like napoleon when he invaded russia, to make up the rest by foraging. before beginning our journey we had a foretaste of the difficulty of travelling in russia. we had ordered posthorses three times, and had sent for them morning and evening, and received for answer that there were none in. at the third disappointment, our own consul being out of town, my friend the spanish consul went with me to the director of the post, and found that during the time in which they had told us they had no horses, they had sent out more than a hundred. instead of taxing them with their rascality, he talked the matter over very politely, paid the price of the horses, gave them a bonus of ten rubles, and obtained a promise by all the saints in the russian calendar for daylight the next morning. the next morning at eight o'clock the horses came; four shaggy, wild-looking little animals, which no comb or brush had ever touched, harnessed with a collar and rope lines. they were tied in with rope traces, all abreast, two on each side the pole, and a postillion with a low wool cap, sheepskin coat and trousers, the woolly side next the skin, who would make an english whip stare, mounted the box. henri followed, and my companion and myself took our seats within. the day before we had a positive quarrel upon a point unnecessary here to mention, in which i thought and still think he acted wrong, and the dispute had run so high that i told him i regretted exceedingly having made arrangements for travelling with him, and proposed even then to part company; he objected, and as we had purchased a carriage jointly, and particularly as our passports were prepared, our podoroshni made out, and servant hired in our joint names, i was fain to go on; and in this inauspicious humour toward each other we set out for a journey of nearly two thousand miles, through a wild and desolate country, among a half-civilized people, whose language we could not understand, and with a servant whom we distrusted and disliked. in spite of all this, however, i felt a high degree of excitement in starting for the capital of russia; and i will do my companion the justice to say that he had been always ready to receive my advances, and to do more than meet me half way, which i afterward learned was from an apprehension of the taunts of his companions, who, not satisfied with getting rid of him, had constantly told him that it was impossible for an englishman and an american to travel together, and that we would quarrel and fight the first day. i believe that i am enough of an american in my feelings, but such an idea had never entered my head; i met many englishmen, and with some formed a friendship which, i trust, will last through life; and among all i met, these two were the only _young_ men so far behind the spirit of the age as to harbour such a thought. i did meet one _old_ gentleman, who, though showing me personally the greatest kindness, could not forget the old grudge. but men cannot be driving their elbows into each other's ribs, comparing money accounts, and consulting upon the hundred little things that present themselves on such a journey, without getting upon at least sociable terms; and before night of the first day the feelings of my companion and myself had undergone a decided change. but to go back to odessa. at the barrier we found a large travelling-carriage stopping the way, in which was my friend mr. ralli, with his lady, on his way to nicolaif; part of his business there was to erect a monument to the memory of a deceased countryman. mr. munroe, son of a former postmaster in washington, is another instance of the success of american adventurers in russia. he went out to st. petersburgh with letters from the russian ambassador and others, and entered the army, the only road to distinction in russia. he accompanied the grand-duke constantine to poland, and was made one of his aiddecamps, and on the death of constantine was transferred to the staff of the emperor nicolas. at the time of the invasion of turkey by the egyptians under ibrahim pacha, mr. munroe held the rank of colonel in the army sent to the aid of the sultan. while the russians were encamped at the foot of the giant's mountain, he visited constantinople, and became acquainted with the american missionaries, who all spoke of him in the highest terms. he was a tall, well-made man, carried himself with a military air, and looked admirably well in the russian uniform. on the withdrawal of the russians from the black sea, mr. munroe was left in some important charge at nicolaif, where he died in the opening of a brilliant career. i heard of him all over russia, particularly from officers of the army; and being often asked if i knew him, regretted to be obliged to answer no. but, though personally unacquainted, as an american i was gratified with the name he had left behind him. to return again to our journey: a few rubles satisfied the officer at the barrier that we were carrying nothing prohibited out of the "free port" of odessa, and we started on a full run, to the great peril of our necks, and, to use the climax of a dutch proclamation, "what's more, of breaking our carriage." in less than an hour we brought up before the door of a posthouse. our wheels were smoking when we stopped. on our hind axle we carried a bucket of grease; half a dozen bipeds in sheepskin whipped off the wheels and greased them; four quadrupeds were tied into the carriage, another bête mounted the box, and we were off again at a full run. my companion undertook to keep a memorandum of expenses, and we put a certain sum in a purse and paid out of it till all was gone. this was a glorious beginning for a journey of two thousand miles. the country possessed little interest, being mostly level, and having but few villages. on the way we saw a natural phenomenon that is common enough in egypt and the east, where the country is level, and known by the name of _mirage_. at a distance it seemed a mere pond or lake, and a drove of cattle passing over it looked as if they were walking in the water. we rolled on rapidly all day, passed through balgarha, kodurseve, and pakra, timing every post and noting every village with a particularity which it would be tedious here to repeat, and at about eight in the evening dashed into the little town of vosnezeuski, one hundred and thirty versts from odessa. here we came to a dead stand. we had begun to entertain some apprehensions from the conduct of monsieur henri, who complained of the hardness of his seat, and asked if we did not intend to stop at night, recommending vosnezeuski as a place where we could sleep in the posthouse; we told him that we had no idea of stopping but to change horses, and should go on immediately. vosnezeuski lies on the river bog, and is the chief town of the cossacks of the bog. this river is navigable for large vessels one hundred and fifty versts; beyond this for three or four hundred versts it is full of cataracts. the cossacks of the bog are a warlike tribe, numbering from six to seven thousand, and living under the same military system with the cossacks of the don. but we fell into worse hands than the cossacks. the postmaster was a jew, and at first told us that he had no horses; then that he had no postillion, but would hire one if we would pay him a certain sum, about four times the amount fixed by law. we had been obliged before to pay a few extra rubles, but this was our first serious difficulty with the postmasters; and, in pursuance of the advice received at odessa, we talked loud, demanded the book which is nailed to the table in every posthouse for travellers to enter complaints in, and threatened the vengeance of count woronzow and every one else, up to the emperor; but the jew laughed in our faces; looked in our podoroshni, where we were described as simple travellers, without any of the formidable array of titles which procure respect in russia; told us we were no grand seigneurs, and that we must either pay the price or wait, as our betters had done before us. we found too soon, as we had been advised at odessa, that these fellows do not know such a character in society as a private gentleman; and if a man is not described in his podoroshni as a count, duke, or lord of some kind, or by some high-sounding military title, they think he is a merchant or manufacturer, or some other common fellow, and pay no regard to him. i relied somewhat upon my companion's having been made "noble," but now found that his consul had been rather chary of his honours, and, by the russian word used, had not put him up high enough to be of any use. we had a long wrangle with the jew, the result of which was, that we told him, probably in no very gentle phrase, that we would wait a month rather than submit to his extortion; and, drawing up the window of our carriage, prepared to pass the night at the door of the posthouse. one of our party was evidently well satisfied with this arrangement, and he was monsieur henri. we had hired him by the day to moscow, and, if we wanted him, to st. petersburgh, and very soon saw that he was perfectly content with the terms, and in no hurry to bring our journey to a close. from the moment of our arrival we suspected him of encouraging the postmaster in his efforts to detain us, and were so much fortified in this opinion by after circumstances, that, when he was about moving toward the house to pass the night within, we peremptorily ordered him to mount the box and sleep there; he refused, we insisted; and as this was the first day out and the first moment of actual collision, and it was all important to decide who should be master, we told him that, if he did not obey, we would discharge him on the spot, at the risk of being obliged to work our way back to odessa alone. and as he felt that, in that case, his debts would have been paid to no purpose, with a string of suppressed sacrés he took his place on the box. our carriage was very comfortable, well lined and stuffed, furnished with pockets and everything necessary for the road, and we expected to sleep in it; but, to tell the truth, we felt rather cheap as we woke during the night, and looked at the shut door of the posthouse, and thought of the jew sleeping away in utter contempt of us, and our only satisfaction was in hearing an occasional groan from henri. that worthy individual did not oversleep himself, nor did he suffer the jew to do so either. early in the morning, without a word on our part, the horses were brought out and harnessed to our vehicle, and the same man whom he professed to have hired expressly for us, and who, no doubt, was the regular postillion, mounted the box. the jew maintained his impudence to the last, coming round to my window, and then asking a few rubles as a douceur. good english would have been thrown away upon him, so i resented it by drawing up the window of the carriage and scowling at him through the glass. many of the postmasters along this road were jews; and i am compelled to say that they were always the greatest scoundrels we had to deal with; and this is placing them on very high ground, for their inferiors in rascality would be accounted masters in any other country. no men can bear a worse character than the russian jews, and i can truly say that i found them all they were represented to be. they are not allowed to come within the territory of old russia. peter the great refused their application to be permitted to approach nearer, smoothing his refusal by telling them that his russian subjects were greater jews than they were themselves. the sagacious old monarch, however, was wrong; for all the money business along the road is in their hands. they keep little taverns, where they sell vodka, a species of brandy, and wring from the peasant all his earnings, lending the money again to the seigneurs at exorbitant interest. many of them are rich, and though alike despised by rich and poor, by the seigneur and the serf, they are proud of exhibiting their wealth, particularly in the jewels and ornaments of their women. at savonka, a little village on the confines of old poland, where we were detained waiting for horses, i saw a young girl about sixteen, a polonese, sitting on the steps of a miserable little tavern, sewing together some ribands, with a headdress of brown cloth, ornamented with gold chains and pearls worth six hundred rubles, diamond earrings worth a hundred, and a necklace of ducats and other dutch gold pieces worth four hundred rubles; altogether, in our currency, worth perhaps two hundred and fifty dollars. here, too, while sitting with henri on the steps of the posthouse, i asked him in a friendly way how he could be such a rascal as to league with the postmaster to detain us at vosnezeuski, whereupon he went at once into french heroics, exclaiming, "monsieur, je suis vieux militaire--j'etais chasseur de napoleon--mon honneur," &c.; that he had never travelled before except with grand seigneurs, and then _in_ the carriage, more as compagnon de voyage than as a servant, and intimated that it was a great condescension to travel with us at all. we passed through several villages, so much alike and so uninteresting in appearance that i did not note even their names. as night approached we had great apprehensions that henri would contrive to make us stop again; but the recollection of his bed on the box served as a lesson, and we rolled on without interruption. at daylight we awoke, and found ourselves upon the wild steppes of russia, forming part of the immense plain which, beginning in northern germany, extends for hundreds of miles, having its surface occasionally diversified by ancient tumuli, and terminates at the long chain of the urals, which, rising like a wall, separates them from the equally vast plains of siberia. the whole of this immense plain was covered with a luxuriant pasture, but bare of trees like our prairie lands, mostly uncultivated, yet everywhere capable of producing the same wheat which now draws to the black sea the vessels of turkey, egypt, and italy, making russia the granary of the levant; and which, within the last year, we have seen brought six thousand miles to our own doors. our road over these steppes was in its natural state; that is to say, a mere track worn by caravans of wagons; there were no fences, and sometimes the route was marked at intervals by heaps of stones, intended as guides when the ground should be covered with snow. i had some anxiety about our carriage; the spokes of the wheels were all strengthened and secured by cords wound tightly around them, and interlaced so as to make a network; but the postillions were so perfectly reckless as to the fate of the carriage, that every crack went through me like a shot. the breaking of a wheel would have left us perfectly helpless in a desolate country, perhaps more than a hundred miles from any place where we could get it repaired. indeed, on the whole road to chioff there was not a single place where we could have any material injury repaired; and the remark of the old traveller is yet emphatically true, that "there be small succour in these parts." [illustration: tumuli on the steppes.] at about nine o'clock we whirled furiously into a little village, and stopped at the door of the posthouse. our wheels were smoking with the rapidity of their revolutions; henri dashed a bucket of water over them to keep them from burning, and half a dozen men whipped them off and greased them. indeed, greasing the wheels is necessary at every post, as otherwise the hubs become dry, so that there is actual danger of their taking fire; and there is a _traveller's_ story told (but i do not vouch for its truth) of a postillion, wagon, and passengers being all burned up on the road to moscow by the ignition of the wheels. the village, like all the others, was built of wood, plastered and whitewashed, with roofs of thatched straw, and the houses were much cleaner than i expected to find them. we got plenty of fresh milk; the bread, which to the traveller in those countries is emphatically the staff of life, we found good everywhere in russia, and at moscow the whitest i ever saw. henri was an enormous feeder, and, wherever we stopped, he disappeared for a moment, and came out with a loaf of bread in his hand and his mustache covered with the froth of quass, a russian small beer. he said he was not always so voracious, but his seat was so hard, and he was so roughly shaken, that eating did him no good. resuming our journey, we met no travellers. occasionally we passed large droves of cattle, but all the way from odessa the principal objects were long trains of wagons, fifty or sixty together, drawn by oxen, and transporting merchandise toward moscow or grain to the black sea. their approach was indicated at a great distance by immense clouds of dust, which gave us timely notice to let down our curtains and raise our glasses. the wagoners were short, ugly-looking fellows, with huge sandy mustaches and beards, black woolly caps, and sheepskin jackets, the wool side next the skin; perhaps, in many cases, transferred warm from the back of one animal to that of the other, where they remained till worn out or eaten up by vermin. they had among them blacksmiths and wheelwrights, and spare wheels, and hammer, and tools, and everything necessary for a journey of several hundred miles. half of them were generally asleep on the top of their loads, and they encamped at night in caravan style, arranging the wagons in a square, building a large fire, and sleeping around it. about midday we saw clouds gathering afar off in the horizon, and soon after the rain began to fall, and we could see it advancing rapidly over the immense level till it broke over our heads, and in a few moments passed off, leaving the ground smoking with exhalations. late in the afternoon we met the travelling equipage of a seigneur returning from moscow to his estate in the country. it consisted of four carriages, with six or eight horses each. the first was a large, stately, and cumbrous vehicle, padded and cushioned, in which, as we passed rapidly by, we caught a glimpse of a corpulent russian on the back seat, with his feet on the front, bolstered all around with pillows and cushions, almost burying every part of him but his face, and looking the very personification of luxurious indulgence; and yet probably, that man had been a soldier, and slept many a night on the bare ground, with no covering but his military cloak. next came another carriage, fitted out in the same luxurious style, with the seigneur's lady and a little girl; then another with nurses and children; then beds, baggage, cooking utensils, and servants, the latter hanging on everywhere about the vehicle, much in the same way with the pots and kettles. altogether, it was an equipment in caravan style, somewhat the same as for a journey in the desert, the traveller carrying with him provision and everything necessary for his comfort, as not expecting to procure anything on the road, nor to sleep under a roof during the whole journey. he stops when he pleases, and his servants prepare his meals, sometimes in the open air, but generally at the posthouse. we had constant difficulties with henri and the postmasters, but, except when detained for an hour or two by these petty tyrants, we rolled on all night, and in the morning again woke upon the same boundless plain. the posthouse was usually in a village, but sometimes stood alone, the only object to be seen on the great plain. before it was always a high square post, with black and white stripes, marking the number of versts from station to station; opposite to this henri dismounted, and presented the podoroshni or imperial order for horses. but the postmasters were high above the laws; every one of them seemed a little autocrat in his own right, holding his appointment rather to prey upon than to serve travellers; and the emperor's government would be but badly administered if his ukases and other high-sounding orders did not carry with them more weight than his podoroshni. the postmasters obeyed it when they pleased, and when they did not, made a new bargain. they always had an excuse; as, for instance, that they had no horses, or were keeping them in reserve for a courier or grand seigneur; but they listened to reason when enforced by rubles, and, as soon as a new bargain was made, half a dozen animals in sheepskin went out on the plain and drove up fifteen or twenty horses, small, rugged, and tough, with long and shaggy manes and tails, which no comb or brush had ever touched, and, diving among them promiscuously, caught four, put on rope headstalls, and tied them to our rope traces. the postillion mounted the box, and shouting and whipping his horses, and sometimes shutting his eyes, started from the post on a full gallop, carried us like the wind, ventre à terre, over the immense plain, sometimes without a rut or any visible mark to guide him, and brought us up all standing in front of the next post. a long delay and a short post, and this was the same over and over again during the whole journey. the time actually consumed in making progress was incredibly short, and i do not know a more beautiful way of getting over the ground than posting in russia with a man of high military rank, who can make the postmasters give him horses immediately on his arrival. as for us, after an infinite deal of vexation and at a ruinous expense, on the morning of the fourth day we were within one post of chioff. here we heard with great satisfaction that a diligence was advertised for moscow, and we determined at once to get rid of carriage, posting, and henri. we took our seats for the last time in the _calêche_ gave the postillion a double allowance of kopeks, and in half an hour saw at a great distance the venerable city of chioff, the ancient capital of russia. it stands at a great height, on the crest of an amphitheatre of hills, which rise abruptly in the middle of an immense plain, apparently thrown up by some wild freak of nature, at once curious, unique, and beautiful. the style of its architecture is admirably calculated to give effect to its peculiar position; and, after a dreary journey over the wild plains of the ukraine, it breaks upon the traveller with all the glittering and gorgeous splendour of an asiatic city. for many centuries it has been regarded as the jerusalem of the north, the sacred and holy city of the russians; and, long before reaching it, its numerous convents and churches, crowning the summit and hanging on the sides of the hill, with their quadrupled domes, and spires, and chains, and crosses, gilded with ducat gold and glittering in the sun, gave the whole city the appearance of golden splendour. the churches and monasteries have one large dome in the centre, with a spire surmounted by a cross, and several smaller domes around it, also with spires and crosses connected by pendant chains, and all gilded so purely that they never tarnish. we drove rapidly to the foot of the hill, and ascended by a long wooden paved road to the heart of the city. during the whole of our last post our interest had been divided between the venerable city and the rogue henri. my companion, who, by-the-way, spoke but little french disliked him from the first. we had long considered him in league with all the jews and postmasters on the road, and had determined under no circumstances to take him farther than chioff; but as we had hired him to moscow, the difficulty was how to get rid of him. he might take it into his head that, if we did not know when we had a good servant, he knew when he had good masters; but he was constantly grumbling about his seat, and calculated upon three or four days' rest at chioff. so, as soon as we drove up to the door of the hotel, we told him to order breakfast and posthorses. he turned round as if he had not fully comprehended us. we repeated the order, and for the first time since he had been with us he showed something like agility in dismounting; fairly threw himself from the box, swore he would not ride another verst that day for a thousand rubles, and discharged us on the spot. we afterward paid him to his entire satisfaction, indemnifying him for the money he had squandered in paying his debts at odessa, and found him more useful at chioff than he had been at any time on the road. indeed, we afterward learned what was rather ludicrous, viz., that he, our pilot and interpreter through the wilderness of russia, knew but little more of russian than we did ourselves. he could ask for posthorses and the ordinary necessaries of life, count money, &c., but could not support a connected conversation, nor speak nor understand a long sentence. this changed our suspicions of his honesty into admiration of his impudence; but, in the mean time, when he discharged us, we should have been rather destitute if it had not been for the servant of a russian traveller, who spoke french, and, taking our direction from him, we mounted a drosky and rode to the office of the diligence, which was situated in the podolsk or lower town, and at which we found ourselves particularly well received by the proprietor. he said that the attempt to run a diligence was discouraging; that he had advertised two weeks, and had not booked a single passenger; but, if he could get two, he was determined to try the experiment. we examined the vehicle, which was very large and convenient, and, satisfied that there was no danger of all the places being taken, we left him until we could make an effort to dispose of our carriage. relieved from all anxiety as to our future movements, we again mounted our drosky. ascending the hill, we passed the fountain where st. vladimir baptized the first russian converts; the spring is held sacred by the christians now, and a column bearing a cross is erected over it, to commemorate the pious act and the ancient sovereignty of chioff. the early history of this city is involved in some obscurity. its name is supposed to be derived from kiovi or kii, a sarmatian word signifying heights or mountains; and its inhabitants, a sarmatian tribe, were denominated kivi or mountaineers. it is known to have been a place of consequence in the fifth century, when the suevi, driven from their settlements on the danube, established themselves here and at novogorod. in the beginning of the tenth century it was the capital and most celebrated and opulent city in russia, or in that part of europe. boleslaus the terrible notched upon its "golden gate" his "miraculous sword," called by the monks "the sword of god," and the poles entered and plundered it of its riches. in the latter part of the same century the capital of russia again fell before the conquering arms of the poles. kiev was at that time the foster-child of constantinople and the eastern empire. the voluptuous greeks had stored it with all the luxuries of asia; the noble architecture of athens was festooned with the gaudy tapestry of lydia, and the rough metal of russian swords embossed with the polished gold of ophir and persia. boleslaus ii., shut up within the "golden gate" of this city of voluptuousness, quaffed the bowl of pleasure till its intoxicating draught degraded all the nobler energies of his nature. his army of warriors followed his example, and slept away month after month on the soft couches of kiev; and in the language of the historian, as if they had eaten of the fabled fruit of the lotos-tree, at length forgot that their houses were without masters, their wives without husbands, and their children without parents. but these tender relations were not in like manner oblivious; and, after seven years of absence, the poles were roused from their trance of pleasure by the tidings of a revolt among the women at home, who, tired of waiting their return, in revenge gave themselves up to the embraces of their slaves. burning under the disgrace, the poles hurried home to wreak their vengeance on wives and paramours; but they met at warsaw a bloody resistance; the women, maddened by despair, urged on their lovers, many of them fighting in person, and seeking out on the battle-field their faithless husbands: an awful warning to married men! for a long time kiev was the prey alternately of the poles, the lithuanians, and the tartars, until in it was finally ceded by the poles to russia. the city is composed of three distinct quarters; the old, with its polish fortifications, containing the palace of the emperor, and being the court end; the petcherk fortress, built by peter the great, with ditches and high ramparts, and an arsenal capable of containing eighty or a hundred thousand stand of arms; and the podolsk, or business part, situated at the foot of the hill on the banks of the dnieper. it contains thirty thousand inhabitants besides a large military garrison, partly of cossack troops, and one pretty good hotel; but no beds, and none of those soft couches which made the hardy poles sleep away their senses; and though a welcome resting-place for a traveller through the wild plains of russia, it does not now possess any such attraction as to put in peril the faith and duties of husbands. by its position secluded from intercourse with strangers, kiev is still thoroughly a russian city, retaining in full force its asiatic style of architecture; and the old russian, wedded to the manners and customs of his fathers, clings to it as a place which the hand of improvement has not yet reached; among other relics of the olden time, the long beard still flourishes with the same solemn dignity as in the days of peter the great. lying a hundred miles away from the direct road between moscow and the black sea, few european travellers visit it; and though several of them have done so since, perhaps i was the first american who ever passed through it. we passed the morning in riding round to the numerous convents and churches, among which is the church of st. sophia, the oldest in russia, and, if not an exact model of the great st. sophia of constantinople, at least of byzantine design; and toward evening went to the emperor's garden. this garden is more than a mile in length, bounded on one side by the high precipitous bank of the hill, undulating in its surface, and laid out like an english park, with lawn, gravel-walks, and trees; it contains houses of refreshment, arbours or summer-houses, and a summer theatre. at the foot of the hill flows the dnieper, the ancient borysthenes, on which, in former days the descendants of odin and ruric descended to plunder constantinople. two or three sloops were lying, as it were, asleep in the lower town, telling of a still interior country, and beyond was a boundless plain covered with a thick forest of trees. the view from this bank was unique and extraordinary, entirely different from anything i ever saw in natural scenery, and resembling more than anything else a boundless marine prospect. at the entrance of the garden is an open square or table of land overlooking the plain, where, every evening at seven o'clock, the military band plays. the garden is the fashionable promenade, the higher classes resorting to it in carriages and on horseback, and the common people on foot; the display of equipages was not very striking, although there is something stylish in the russian manner of driving four horses, the leaders with very long traces and a postillion; and soldiers and officers, with their splendid uniforms, caps, and plumes, added a brilliant effect. before the music began, all returned from the promenade or drive in the garden, and gathered in the square. it was a beautiful afternoon in june, and the assemblage was unusually large and brilliant; the carriages drew up in a line, the ladies let down the glasses, and the cavaliers dismounted, and talked and flirted with them just as in civilized countries. all chioff was there, and the peasant in his dirty sheepskin jacket, the shopkeeper with his long surtout and beard, the postillion on his horse, the coachman on his box, the dashing soldier, the haughty noble and supercilious lady, touched by the same chord, forgot their temporal distinctions, and listened to the swelling strains of the music till the last notes died away. the whole mass was then in motion, and in a few moments, except by a few stragglers, of whom i was one, the garden was deserted. at about ten o'clock i returned to my hotel. we had no beds, and slept in our cloaks on settees stuffed with straw and covered with leather. we had no coverlets; still, after four days and nights in a carriage, it was a luxury to have plenty of kicking room. chapter ii. a lucky encounter.--church of the catacombs.--a visit to the saints.--a tender parting.--pilgrims.--rough treatment.--a scene of starvation.--russian serfs.--devotion of the serfs.--approach to moscow. early in the morning, while i was standing in the yard of the hotel, chaffering with some jews about the sale of our carriage, an officer in a faded, threadbare uniform, with two or three ribands at his buttonhole and stars sparkling on his breast, came up, and, taking me by the hand, told me, in capital english, that he had just heard of the arrival of two english gentlemen, and had hurried down to see them; that he was a great admirer of the english, and happy to have an opportunity, in the interior of his own country, to show its hospitalities to the natives of the island queen. at the risk of losing the benefit of his attentions, i was obliged to disclaim my supposed english character, and to publish, in the heart of a grinding despotism, that i was a citizen of a free republic. nor did i suffer for my candour; for, by one of those strange vagaries which sometimes happen, we cannot tell how or why, this officer in the service of russia had long looked to america and her republican government as the perfection of an ideal system. he was in chioff only by accident. wounded in the last campaign against the turks, he had taken up his abode at ismail, where, upon his pension and a pittance of his own, he was able to live respectably as a poor officer. with no friends or connexions, and no society at ismail, his head seemed to have run principally upon two things, apparently having no connexion with each other, but intimately connected in his mind, viz., the british possessions in india and the united states of america; and the cord that bound them together was the wide diffusion of the english language by means of these powerful agents. he told me more than i ever knew of the constitution and government of the east india company, and their plan of operations; and, in regard to our own country, his knowledge was astonishing; he knew the names and character, and talked familiarly of all our principal men, from the time of washington to the present day; had read all our standard works, and was far more familiar with those of franklin, irving, &c., than i was; in short, he told me that he had read every american book, pamphlet, or paper he could lay his hands on; and so intimate was his knowledge of detail, that he mentioned chestnut-street by name as one of the principal streets in philadelphia. it may be supposed that i was not sorry to meet such a man in the heart of russia. he devoted himself to us, and seldom left us, except at night, until we left the city. after breakfast, accompanied by our new friend with as unpronounceable a name as the best in russia, we visited the catacombs of the petcherskoi monastery. i have before remarked that chioff is the holy city of the russians, and the crowds of pilgrims we met at every turn in the streets constantly reminded us that this was the great season of the pilgrimage. i was but imperfectly acquainted with the russian character, but in no one particular had i been so ignorant as in regard to their religious impressions. i had seen italian, greek, and turkish devotees, but the russian surpassed them all; and, though deriving their religion from strangers, they exceed the punctilious greeks themselves in the observance of its minutest forms. censurable, indeed, would he be considered who should pass, in city or in highway, the figure of the cross, the image of the virgin, or any of the numerous family of saints, without taking off his hat and making on his breast the sacred sign of the cross; and in a city like chioff, where every turn presents some new object claiming their worship, the eyes of our drosky boy were rapidly turning from one side to the other, and his hand was almost constantly in a quick mechanical motion. the church of the catacombs, or the cathedral of the assumption, attached to the monastery, stands a little out of the city, on the banks of the dnieper. it was founded in ten hundred and seventy-three, and has seven golden domes with golden spires, and chains connecting them. the dome of the belfry, which rises above the hill to the height of about three hundred feet, and above the dnieper to that of five hundred and eighty-six, is considered by the russians a chef d'oeuvre of architecture. it is adorned with doric and ionic columns and corinthian pilasters; the whole interior bears the venerable garb of antiquity, and is richly ornamented with gold, silver, and precious stones and paintings; indeed, it is altogether very far superior to any greek church i had then seen. in the immense catacombs under the monastery lie the unburied bodies of the russian saints, and year after year thousands and tens of thousands come from the wilds of siberia and the confines of tartary to kneel at their feet and pray. in one of the porches of the church we bought wax tapers, and, with a long procession of pilgrims, bareheaded and with lighted tapers in our hands, descended a long wooden staircase to the mouth of the catacomb. on each side along the staircase was ranged a line of kneeling devotees, of the same miserable description i had so often seen about the churches in italy and greece. entering the excavated passages of the catacombs, the roof of which was black from the smoke of candles, we saw on each side, in niches in the walls, and in open coffins, enveloped in wrappers of cloth and silk, ornamented with gold and silver, the bodies of the russian saints. these saints are persons who have led particularly pure and holy lives, and by reason thereof have ascended into heaven, where they are supposed to exercise an influence with the father and son; and their bodies are left unburied that their brethren may come to them for intercession, and, seeing their honours after death, study to imitate them in the purity of their lives. the bodies are laid in open coffins, with the stiffened hands so placed as to receive the kisses of pilgrims, and on their breasts are written their names, and sometimes a history of their virtuous actions. but we saw there other and worse things than these, monuments of wild and desperate fanaticism; for besides the bodies of saints who had died at god's appointed time, in one passage is a range of small windows, where men had with their own hands built themselves in with stones against the wall, leaving open only a small hole by which to receive their food; and died with the impious thought that they were doing their maker good service. these little windows close their dwelling and their tomb; and the devoted russian, while he kneels before them, believes that their unnatural death has purchased for them everlasting life, and place and power among the spirits of the blessed. we wandered a long time in this extraordinary burial-place, everywhere strewed with the kneeling figures of praying pilgrims. at every turn we saw hundreds from the farthest parts of the immense empire of russia; perhaps at that time more than three thousand were wandering in these sepulchral chambers. the last scene i shall never forget. more than a hundred were assembled in a little chapel, around which were arranged the bodies of men who had died in peculiar sanctity. all were kneeling on the rocky floor, an old priest, with a long white beard streaming down his breast, was in the midst of them, and all there, even to the little children, were listening with rapt attention, as if he were preaching to them matters of eternal moment. there was no hypocrisy or want of faith in that vast sepulchre; surrounded by their sainted dead, they were searching their way to everlasting life, and in all honesty believed that they saw the way before them. we ascended once more to the regions of upper air, and stopped a few moments in the courtyard of the monastery, where the beggar pilgrims were eating the hard bread distributed to them by the monks from the bounty of government. no man seemed more relieved than the major. he was a liberal in religion as well as in politics, but he crossed himself everywhere most devoutly, to avoid, as he said, offending the prejudices of his countrymen, though once he rather scandalized a group of pilgrims by cross-questioning a monk about a new saint, who seemed to be receiving more than a usual share of veneration, and who, he said, had been canonized since he was there last. but there is a time for all things, and nothing is more absolutely fixed by nature's laws than a time for dinner. almost at the first moment of our acquaintance the major had told me of an engraving representing a scene in _new-york_, which was to be found at a second or third rate hotel, and i proposed to him, in compliment to the honest publican who had the good taste to have such a picture in his house, to go there and dine. we went, and in a large room, something like a barroom in our hotels, saw on one of the walls, in a black wooden frame, a gaudy and flaring engraving representing the pulling down of the statue of george the second in the bowling green. the bowling green was associated with my earliest recollections. it had been my playground when a boy; hundreds of times i had climbed over its fence for my ball, and i was one of a band of boys who held on to it long after the corporation invaded our rights. captain cook mentions the effect produced upon his crew by finding at one of the savage islands he visited a silver spoon marked "london;" my feelings were, in a small way, of the same nature. the grouping of the picture was rude and grotesque, the ringleader being a long negro stripped to his trousers, and straining with all his might upon a rope, one end of which was fastened to the head of the statue, and the other tied around his own waist, his white teeth and the whites of his eyes being particularly conspicuous on a heavy ground of black. it was a poor specimen of art, but it was a home scene; we drew up our table opposite the picture, and here, in the very headquarters of despotism, i found a liberal spirit in an officer wearing the uniform of the autocrat, who pledged me in the toast, "success to liberty throughout the world." i had another occupation, which savoured more of home, and served to keep my faculties from rusting; and that was the sale of our carriage. we had made a calculation, and found that it would be cheaper, to say nothing of other advantages, to give it away, and take the diligence to moscow, than go on posting. we accordingly offered it for sale, and every time we returned to the house found a group of jews examining it. the poor thing found no favour in their eyes; they told us that we had been riding in it at peril of our lives; that we might be thankful it had not broken down on the road; and, in short, that it was worth nothing except for old iron, and for that it was worth forty-five rubles, or about _nine dollars_. we could not stand this. it had cost us one hundred and forty less than a week before, was cheap at that, and as good now as when we bought it. on the eve of departure, therefore, we offered it to our landlord for three days' board; but the old turk (he was a jew turned christian, and in his regenerated worse than his natural state) refused our offer, thinking that we would go away and leave it on his hands. but we resolved to burn it first; and while hesitating about offering it to our friend the major, he relieved us from all delicacy by telling us that he did not want it, and had no horses to put to it; to save us from imposition, he would willingly give us the full value, but he was not worth the money. he had, however, a piece of fifty rubles, or about ten dollars, in his pocket, and, if we would take that, he would keep the carriage as a souvenir. we gladly accepted his offer, and had the satisfaction of finding that we had grievously disappointed both the jews and our landlord. in the morning the proprietor of the diligence, learning that we had sold our vehicle, raised the price of places fifty rubles apiece; the major heard of it, and insisted upon our taking back the carriage, when the proprietor took another tone, talked of the expense of sending his huge vehicle with only two passengers, and we listened and assented. we started to accompany him, and just at the door of the hotel saw two runaway horses coming furiously down the street with a drosky, and an officer entangled and dragging on the ground. we picked him up and carried him into the hotel. he was a noble-looking man, who but a few minutes before had attracted my attention by his proud and manly bearing, now a miserable mangled object, his clothes torn, his plume soiled with mud, and his face covered with dust and blood, and, when we left, it was uncertain whether he would live or die. the major accompanied us to the office of the diligence, and our parting was rather tender; he rubbed his mustache on both my cheeks, wrote his name in my memorandum-book, and i gave him my address; he said that our visit had been an interlude relieving the dull monotony of his life; that we were going to new scenes, and would soon forget him, but he would not forget us. nor shall i forget him, although it is not probable that he and i will ever meet again. we took our seats in the diligence for moscow, and set off with an uncommon degree of satisfaction at having got rid of posting and of henri, and, with them, of all our troubles. we had nothing to do, no wrangling with postmasters, no cheating to undergo from jews, and were in that happy state which made the honest hibernian indifferent to an upset or a breakdown; that is to say, we were merely passengers. with great pomp and circumstance we drove through the principal streets, to advise the knickerbockers of chioff of the actual departure of the long-talked-of diligence, the conducteur sounding his trumpet, and the people stopping in the streets and running to the doors to see the extraordinary spectacle. we descended the long wooden road to the river, and crossed the dnieper on a bridge about half a mile long. on the opposite bank i turned for the last time to the sacred city, and i never saw anything more unique and strikingly beautiful than the high, commanding position of "this city on a hill," crowned with its golden cupolas and domes, that reflected the sun with dazzling brightness. for a short distance the country was rather undulating, but soon settled into the regular steppe. we rolled on all day without anything to annoy us or even to interest us, except processions of pilgrims on their way to chioff. they travelled on foot in bands of one or two hundred, men, women, and children, headed by a white-bearded monk, barefooted, and leaning on a staff. during the night i was roused by a loud chant, and, looking out, saw a group of more than a hundred pilgrims gathered round a fire, with an old monk in the midst of them, breaking the stillness of night with songs of devotion; and all the night long, as we rode swiftly by, i saw by the bright moonlight groups of forty, fifty, or a hundred lying by the roadside asleep under the trees. more than fifty thousand pilgrims that year visited the catacombs of kiev, coming from every part of the immense empire of russia, and many from kamschatka and the most distant region of siberia, performing the whole journey on foot, seldom sleeping under a roof, and living upon the precarious charity of the miserable peasants on the road. i have since seen the gathering of pilgrims at jerusalem, and the whole body moving together from the gates of the city to bathe in the jordan, and i have seen the great caravan of forty thousand true believers tracking their desolate way through the deserts of arabia to the tomb of the prophet at mecca; but i remember, as if they were before me now, the groups of russian pilgrims strewed along the road and sleeping under the pale moonlight, the bare earth their bed, the heavens their only covering. in the morning we stopped at a little town, where the posthouse had in front four corinthian columns supporting a balcony. inside, mats were placed against the broken windows, the walls were rough logs, the floor of mud, with pigs and children disputing its possession, and the master and mistress stood in special need of the purifying influence of a russian bath. we brought the teaurn out on the balcony, and had a cow brought up and milked in our presence. after breakfast we lighted our pipes and strolled up the street. at the upper end, an old man in a civil uniform hailed us from the opposite side, and crossed over to meet us; supposing him to be some dignitary disposed to show us the civilities of the town, we waited to receive him with all becoming respect; but, as he approached, were rather startled by the loud tone of his voice and the angry expression of his face, and more so when, as soon as within reach, he gave my pipe-stick a severe rap with his cane, which knocked it out of my mouth, broke the bowl, and scattered the contents on the ground. i picked up the stick, and should, perhaps, have laid it over his head but for his gray hairs; and my companion, seeing him tread out the sparks of fire, recollected that there was a severe penalty in russia against smoking in the streets. the houses are all of wood; whole villages and towns are often burned down at once, and probably the old man had begun by a civil intimation to that effect; but, indignant at my quietly smoking in his face, had used more summary measures. he was in a perfect fury; and calling at the top of his voice to a man up the street, the latter went off with such a suspicious looking-for-a-police-officer movement, that we hurried back to the diligence, which happened to be ready and waiting for us, and started from the town on a full run. that night, in a miserable posthouse in a miserable village, we found an old billiard-table. it seemed strangely out of place, and i had a great curiosity to know how it had found its way there; but it was twelve o'clock, and all were asleep but the postillion. i can give no account of the rest of the night's work. i had a large cushioned seat of the diligence to myself, certainly the softest bed i had yet had in russia; and when i put my feet out of the window, it was so comfortable that i felt myself in some danger of falling into luxurious habits. at daylight we arrived in a large village, the inhabitants of which were not yet stirring, and the streets were strewed with peasants, grim, yellow-bearded fellows, in sheepskin dresses and caps, lying on their backs asleep, each of them with a log of wood under his head for a pillow. i descended from the diligence, and found that the whole village consisted of a single street, with log-houses on each side, having their gable ends in front; the doors were all open, and i looked in and saw men and women with all their clothes on, pigs, sheep, and children strewed about the floor. [illustration: russian village.] in every house was the image of the panagia, or all holy virgin, or the picture of some tutelary saint, the face only visible, the rest covered with a tin frame, with a lamp or taper burning before it; and regularly as the serf rose he prostrated himself and made his orisons at this domestic shrine. about noon we passed the chateau and grounds of a seigneur; belonging to the chateau was a large church standing in a conspicuous situation, with a green dome, surmounted by the greek cross; and round it were the miserable and filthy habitations of his slaves. entering the village, we saw a spectacle of wretchedness and misery seldom surpassed even on the banks of the nile. the whole population was gathered in the streets, in a state of absolute starvation. the miserable serfs had not raised enough to supply themselves with food, and men of all ages, half-grown boys, and little children were prowling the streets or sitting in the doorways, ravenous with hunger, and waiting for the agent to come down from the chateau and distribute among them bread. i had found in russia many interesting subjects of comparison between that country and my own, but it was with deep humiliation i felt that the most odious feature in that despotic government found a parallel in ours. at this day, with the exception of russia, some of the west india islands, and the republic of the united states, every country in the civilized world can respond to the proud boast of the english common law, that the moment a slave sets foot on her soil he is free. i respect the feelings of others and their vested rights, and would be the last to suffer those feelings or those rights to be wantonly violated; but i do not hesitate to say that, abroad, slavery stands as a dark blot upon our national character. there it will not admit of any palliation; it stands in glaring contrast with the spirit of our free institutions; it belies our words and our hearts; and the american who would be most prompt to repel any calumny upon his country withers under this reproach, and writhes with mortification when the taunt is hurled at the otherwise stainless flag of the free republic. i was forcibly struck with a parallel between the white serfs of the north of europe and african bondsmen at home. the russian boor, generally wanting the comforts which are supplied to the negro on our best-ordered plantations, appeared to me to be not less degraded in intellect, character, and personal bearing. indeed, the marks of physical and personal degradation were so strong, that i was insensibly compelled to abandon certain theories not uncommon among my countrymen at home, in regard to the intrinsic superiority of the white race over all others. perhaps, too, this impression was aided by my having previously met with africans of intelligence and capacity, standing upon a footing of perfect equality as soldiers and officers in the greek army and the sultan's. the serfs of russia differ from slaves with us in the important particular that they belong to the soil, and cannot be sold except with the estate; they may change masters, but cannot be torn from their connexions or their birthplace. one sixth of the whole peasantry of russia, amounting to six or seven millions, belong to the crown, and inhabit the imperial demesne, and pay an annual tax. in particular districts, many have been enfranchised, and become burghers and merchants; and the liberal and enlightened policy of the present emperor is diffusing a more general system of melioration among these subjects of his vast empire. the rest of the serfs belong to the nobles, and are the absolute property and subject to the absolute control of their masters, as much as the cattle on their estates. some of the seigneurs possess from seventy to more than a hundred thousand; and their wealth depends upon the skill and management with which the labour of these serfs is employed. sometimes the seigneur sends the most intelligent to petersburgh or moscow to learn some handicraft, and then employs them on his own estates, hires them out, or allows them to exercise their trade on their own account on payment of an annual sum. and sometimes, too, he gives the serf a passport, under which he is protected all over russia, settles in a city, and engages in trade, and very often accumulates enough to ransom himself and his family. indeed, there are many instances of a serf's acquiring a large property, and even rising to eminence. but he is always subject to the control of his master; and i saw at moscow an old mongik who had acquired a very large fortune, but was still a slave. his master's price for his freedom had advanced with his growing wealth, and the poor serf, unable to bring himself to part with his hard earnings, was then rolling in wealth with a collar round his neck; struggling with the inborn spirit of freedom, and hesitating whether to die a beggar or a slave. the russian serf is obliged to work for his master but three days in the week; the other three he may work for himself on a portion of land assigned to him by law on his master's estate. he is never obliged to work on sunday, and every saint's day or fête day of the church is a holyday. this might be supposed to give him an opportunity of elevating his character and condition; but, wanting the spirit of a free agent, and feeling himself the absolute property of another, he labours grudgingly for his master, and for himself barely enough to supply the rudest necessaries of life and pay his tax to the seigneur. a few rise above their condition, but millions labour like beasts of burden, content with bread to put in their mouths, and never even thinking of freedom. a russian nobleman told me that he believed, if the serfs were all free, he could cultivate his estate to better advantage by hired labour; and i have no doubt a dozen connecticut men would cultivate more ground than a hundred russian serfs, allowing their usual non-working days and holydays. they have no interest in the soil, and the desolate and uncultivated wastes of russia show the truth of the judicious reflection of catharine ii., "that agriculture can never flourish in that nation where the husbandman possesses no property." it is from this great body of peasantry that russia recruits her immense standing army, or, in case of invasion, raises in a moment a vast body of soldiers. every person in russia entitled to hold land is known to the government, as well as the number of peasants on his estate; and, upon receiving notice of an imperial order to that effect, the numbers required by the levy are marched forthwith from every part of the empire to the places of rendezvous appointed. it might be asked, what have these men to fight for? they have no country, and are brought up on immense levels, wanting the rocks, rivers, and mountains that inspire local attachments. it is a singular fact, that, with the russian serf, there is always an unbounded love for him who stands at the head of the system of oppression under which they groan, the emperor, whom they regard as their protector against the oppression of their immediate masters; but to whatever cause it may be ascribed, whether inability to estimate the value of any change in their condition, or a feeling of actual love for the soil on which they were born, during the invasion of napoleon the serfs of russia presented a noble spectacle; and the spirit of devotion which animated the corps of ten thousand in the north extended to the utmost bounds of the empire. they received orders to march from st. petersburgh to meet the advance of the french army; the emperor reviewed them, and is said to have shed tears at their departure. arrived at the place appointed, witgenstein ordered them to fall back to a certain point, but they answered "no; the last promise we made the emperor our father was, that we would never fly before the enemy, and we keep our word." eight thousand of their number died on the spot; and the spirit which animated them fired the serfs throughout the whole empire. the scholar may sneer, but i defy him to point to a nobler page in grecian or roman history. i shall make amends for this long discussion by hurrying on to moscow. we rode hundreds of miles without meeting a hill; the country was bare of trees, and almost everywhere presenting the same appearance. we saw the first disk of the sun peeping out of the earth, watched it while soaring on its daily round, and, without a bush to obstruct the view, saw it sink below the horizon; and woke up at all times of night and saw the stars, "rolling like living cars of light for gods to journey by." the principal and only large towns on our road were orel and toula, the former containing a population of four or five thousand, and presenting an imposing display of churches and monasteries gaudily painted and with gilded domes; the houses were principally of wood, painted yellow. toula is the largest manufacturing town, and is called the sheffield of russia, being particularly celebrated for its cutlery. everywhere the diligence created a great sensation; the knowing ones said it would never do; but at orel one spirited individual said if we would wait three days for him he would go on with us. it can hardly seem credible, in our steamboat and railroad community, that a public conveyance could roll on for seven days and nights, through many villages and towns, toward the capital of an immense empire, and not take in a single way-passenger; but such was the fact; and on the morning of the seventh day, alone, as we started from chioff, we were approaching the burned and rebuilt capital of the czars, moscow with gilded cupolas, the holy moscow, the sanctified city, the jerusalem of russia, beloved of god, and dear to men. chapter iii. moscow.--a severe operation.--an exile by accident.--meeting with an emigré.--a civil stranger.--a spy.--the kremlin.--sepulchres of the czars.--the great bell.--the great gun.--precious relics. at daylight we arrived at the last post; and here, for the first time, we saw evidences of our approach to a great city. four or five travelling-carriages were waiting for horses, some of which had been waiting all night; but our diligence being a "public accommodation," we were preferred, and had the first that came in. we took our places for the last time in the diligence, and passed two or three fine chateaux, our curiosity and interest increasing as we approached, until, at about five versts from moscow, as we reached the summit of a gentle eminence, the whole city broke upon us at one view, situated in the midst of a great plain, and covering an extent of more than thirty versts. moscow is emphatically the city of churches, containing more than six hundred, many of which have five or six domes, with steeples, and spires, and crosses, gilded and connected together with golden chains like those of chioff. its convents, too, are almost innumerable, rivalling the churches in size and magnificence, and even to us, coming directly from the capital of the eastern empire, presenting a most striking and extraordinary appearance. as we passed the barrier, two of the most conspicuous objects on each side were the large greek convents, enclosed by high walls, with noble trees growing above them; and as we rode through the wide and showy streets, the first thing that struck me as strange, and, in this inhospitable climate (always associated in my mind with rude and wintry scenes), as singularly beautiful, was the profusion of plants and flowers, with the remarkable degree of taste and attention given to their cultivation. in greece and turkey i had seen the rarest plants and flowers literally "wasting their sweetness on the desert air;" while here, in the heart of an inhospitable country, every house had a courtyard or garden, and in front a light open portico or veranda, ornamented with plants, and shrubs, and flowers, forced into a glowing though unnatural beauty. the whole appearance of the city is asiatic; and as the exhibition of flowers in front of the better class of houses was almost universal, moscow seemed basking in the mild climate of southern asia, rioting in its brief period of vernal existence, and forgetting that, in a few weeks, a frost would come and cover their beauty with the dreary drapery of winter. at the office of the diligence my companion and myself separated. he went to a hotel kept by an english woman, with english company, and i believe, too, with english comfort, and i rode to the hotel germanica, an old and favourite stopping-place with the russian seigneurs when they come up from their estates in the country. having secured my room, i mounted a drosky and hurried to a bath. riding out to the suburbs, the drosky boy stopped at a large wooden building, pouring forth steam from every chink and crevice. at the entrance stood several half-naked men, one of whom led me to an apartment to undress, and then conducted me to another, in one end of which were a furnace and apparatus for generating steam. i was then familiar with the turkish bath, but the worst i had known was like the breath of the gentle south wind compared with the heat of this apartment. the operator stood me in the middle of the floor, opened the upper door of the stove, and dashed into it a bucketful of water, which sent forth volumes of steam like a thick fog into every part of the room, and then laid me down on a platform about three feet high and rubbed my body with a mop dipped in soap and hot water; then he raised me up, and deluged me with hot water, pouring several tubfuls on my head; then laid me down again, and scrubbed me with soap and water from my head to my heels, long enough, if the thing were possible, to make a blackamoor white; then gave me another sousing with hot water, and another scrubbing with pure water, and then conducted me up a flight of steps to a high platform, stretched me out on a bench within a few feet of the ceiling, and commenced whipping me with twigs of birch, with the leaves on them, dipped in hot water. it was hot as an oven where he laid me down on the bench; the vapour, which almost suffocated me below, ascended to the ceiling, and, finding no avenue of escape, gathered round my devoted body, fairly scalding and blistering me; and when i removed my hands from my face, i felt as if i had carried away my whole profile. i tried to hold out to the end, but i was burning, scorching, and consuming. in agony i cried out to my tormentor to let me up, but he did not understand me, or was loath to let me go, and kept thrashing me with the bunch of twigs until, perfectly desperate, i sprang off the bench, tumbled him over, and descended to the floor. snow, snow, a region of eternal snow seemed paradise; but my tormentor had not done with me; and, as i was hurrying to the door, he dashed over me a tub of cold water. i was so hot that it seemed to hiss as it touched me; he came at me with another, and at that moment i could imagine, what had always seemed a traveller's story, the high satisfaction and perfect safety with which the russian in mid winter rushes from his hot bath and rolls himself in the snow. the grim features of my tormentor relaxed as he saw the change that came over me. i withdrew to my dressing-room, dozed an hour on the settee, and went out a new man. in half an hour i stood in the palace of the czars, within the walls of the kremlin. toward evening i returned to my hotel. in all the large hotels in russia it is the custom for every man to dine in his own apartment. travelling alone, i always avoided this when i could, as, besides my dislike of the thing itself, it prevented my making acquaintances and acquiring such information as i needed in a strange city; and i was particularly averse to dine alone the first day of my arrival at moscow; but it was the etiquette of the house to do so, and as i had a letter of introduction which i intended to deliver, from count woronzow to prince galitzin, the governor of moscow, i was bound to make some sacrifice for the credit of my acquaintance. after the table was spread, however, finding it too severe a trial, i went down stairs and invited myself to dine with my landlord. he was a german of about fifty-five or sixty, tall, stout, with gray hair, a frank, manly expression, and great respectability of appearance and manners; and before the dinner was over i regarded him emphatically as what a frenchman would call _un brave homme_. he had been in russia during the whole of the french invasion, and, among the other incidents of a stirring life, had been sent in exile to siberia; and the curious part of it was, that he was sent there by mistake. rather an awkward mistake, though, as he said, not so bad as being knouted or hanged by mistake; and in his case it turned out a rather interesting adventure. he was taken by the french as a russian spy, and retaken by the russians as a french spy, when, as he said, he did not care a fig for either of them. he was hurried off to siberia, but on the journey succeeded in convincing the officer who escorted the prisoners that there was error in the case, and on his arrival was merely detained in exile, without being put to hard labour, until, through the medium of friends, he had the matter brought before the proper tribunal, and the mistake corrected, when he came back post, in company with a russian officer, smoking his pipe all the way, at the expense of the government. he gave me many interesting particulars in regard to that celebrated country, its mines, the sufferings of the noble exiles; and much also, that was new to me, touching its populousness and wealth, and the comfort and luxury of a residence there. he spoke of tobolsk as a large, gay, and populous city, containing hotels, theatres, and all kinds of places of amusement. the exiles, being many of them of rank, have introduced there all the luxuries of the capital, and life at tobolsk is much the same as life at moscow. as the rage for travelling is excited by hearing from the lips of a traveller stories of the countries he has visited, before dinner was over i found myself infected with a strong disposition for a journey to siberia. small matters, however, produce great changes in the current of a man's feelings, and in a few moments i had entirely forgotten siberia, and was carried directly home. while we were smoking our pipes, an old gentleman entered, of singularly aristocratic appearance, whom my host received with the greatest consideration and respect, addressing him as the marquis de p----. he was a frenchman, an old militaire, and a noble specimen of a race almost extinct; tall, thin, and gray-headed, wearing a double-breasted blue frockcoat, buttoned up to the throat, with a cane in his hand and a red riband in his buttonhole, the decoration of the knights of malta; and when my host introduced me as an american traveller arrived that day in moscow, he welcomed me with more than the usual forms of courtesy, and told me that, far off as it was, and little as he knew of it, he almost regarded america as his own country; that, on the downfall of "the emperor," and in a season of universal scattering, some of his nearest relatives, particularly a sister married to a fellow-soldier and his dearest friend, had taken refuge on the other side of the atlantic; that, eighteen years before, he had met an american secretary of legation who knew them, but since that time he had not heard from them, and did not know whether they were living or dead. i asked him the name, with very little expectation of being able to give him any information about them; and it was with no small degree of pleasure that i found i was particularly acquainted with the condition of his relatives. his brother-in-law and old comrade was dead, but i brought him a satisfaction to which he had long been a stranger, by telling him that his sister was still living, occupying a large property in a neighbouring state, surrounded by a family of children, in character and standing ranking among the first in our country. they were intimately connected with the family of one of my most intimate friends, letters to and from different members of which had very often passed through my hands; i knew the names of all his nieces, and personally one of his nephews, a lieutenant, and one of the most promising officers in our navy; and about a year before i had accompanied the friends to whom i refer on a visit to these relatives. at philadelphia i left them under the charge of the lieutenant; and on my return from washington, according to agreement, the lieutenant came down to an intersecting point on the railroad to take me home with him; but circumstances prevented my going, and much as i regretted my disappointment then, i regretted it far more now, as otherwise i might have gladdened the old man's heart by telling him that within a year i had seen his sister. his own history was brief. born to the possession of rank and fortune, and having won honours and decorations by long service in the field, and risen to the rank of inspector-general in the army of napoleon, he was taken in the campaign against russia in eighteen hundred and thirteen, and sent a prisoner of war to moscow, where he had remained ever since. immediately on their arrival, his brother-in-law and sister had written to him from america, telling him that, with the wreck of their fortune, they had purchased a large landed estate, and begging him to come over and share their abundance; but, as he told me, he scorned to eat the bread of idleness and dependance; manfully turned to account the advantages of an accomplished education; and now, at the advanced age of seventy-eight, sustained himself by his pencil, an honoured guest at every table, and respected by the most distinguished inhabitants of moscow. he had accidentally given up his rooms a few days before, and was residing temporarily at the same hotel with myself. he was much agitated by this unexpected intelligence from friends he never expected to hear of more, and left me with a promise to call upon me early in the morning. too much interested myself to go back to siberia with my host, i went to the french theatre. the play was some little every-day thing, and the house but thinly attended. i took my seat in the pit, which was on a dead level, instead of ascending from the stage, containing large cushioned seats, and sprinkled with officers talking with ladies in the boxes above. at the end of the first act, as whole benches were empty above me, i moved up to put myself nearer a pair of bright eyes that were beaming from the box upon a pair of epaulettes below. i was hardly seated before one of the understrappers came up and whispered, or rather muttered, something in my ear. as i did not understand a word he said, and his manner was exceedingly rude and ungracious, i turned my back upon him and looked at the lady with the bright eyes. the fellow continued muttering in my ear, and i began to be seriously annoyed and indignant, when a frenchman sitting two or three benches behind me came up, and, in an imperious tone, ordered him away. he then cursed the russians as a set of canaille, from the greatest seigneurs to the lowest serf; remarked that he saw i was a stranger, and, with the easy freedom of a man of the world, took a seat by my side. he was above six feet high, about thirty-three or thirty-four years of age, in robust health, with a large pair of whiskers, rather overdressed, and of manners good, though somewhat imperious and bordering on the swagger. he seemed perfectly at home in the theatre; knew all the actors and, before the evening was over, offered to introduce me to all the actresses. i was under obligations to him, if not for the last offer, at least for relieving me from the impertinent doorkeeper; and, when the curtain fell, accepted his invitation to go to a restaurant and take a petit souper. i accompanied him to the restaurant au coin du pont des mareschaux, which i afterward ascertained to be the first in moscow. he was perfectly at home with the carte, knew exactly what to order, and, in fact, he was a man of great general information, perfectly familiar with all continental europe, geographically and politically, and particularly at home in moscow; and he offered his services in showing me all that was curious and interesting. we sat together more than two hours, and in our rambling and discursive conversation i could not help remarking that he seemed particularly fond of railing at the government, its tyranny and despotism, and appealing to me, as an american and a liberal, to sustain him. i did not think anything of it then, though in a soldier under charles the tenth, driven out, as he said, by the revolution of july, it was rather strange; but, at any rate, either from a spirit of contradiction or because i had really a good feeling toward everything in russia, i disagreed with him throughout; he took upon himself the whole honours of the entertainment, scolded the servants, called in the landlord, and, as i observed, after a few words with him, went out without paying. i saw that the landlord knew him, and that there was something constrained and peculiar in his behaviour. i must confess, however, that i did not notice these things at the time so clearly as when i was induced to recur to them by after circumstances, for we went out of the house the best friends in the world; and, as it was then raining, we took a drosky and rode home together, with our arms around each other's neck, and my cloak thrown over us both. about two o'clock, in a heavy rain, i stopped at my hotel, bade him good-night, and lent him my cloak to go home with. the reader, perhaps, smiles at my simplicity, but he is wrong in his conjecture; my cloak came home the next morning, and was my companion and only covering many a night afterward. my friend followed it, sat with me a few minutes, and was taking his departure, having made an appointment to call for me at twelve o'clock, when there was a knock at the door, and my friend the marquis entered. i presented them to each other, and the latter was in the act of bending his body with the formality of a gentleman of the old school, when he caught a full view of my friend of the theatre, and, breaking off his unfinished bow, recovered his erect position, and staring from him to me, and from me to him, seemed to demand an explanation. i had no explanation to give, nor had my friend, who, cocking his hat on one side, and brushing by the marquis with more than his usual swagger, stamped down stairs. the marquis looked after him till he was at the foot of the stairs, and then turning to me, asked how, in the name of wonder, i had already contrived to pick up such an acquaintance. i told him the history of our meeting at the theatre, our supper at the restaurant, and our loving ride home, to which he listened with breathless attention; and after making me tax my memory for the particulars of the conversation at the restaurant, told me that my friend was a disgrace to his country; that he had, no doubt, been obliged to leave france for some rascality, and was now entertained by the emperor of russia as a _spy_, particularly upon his own countrymen; that he was well fed and clothed, and had the entrée of all the theatres and public houses without paying. with the earnestness of a man long used to a despotic government, and to seeing slight offences visited with terrible punishments, the marquis congratulated me upon not having fallen into what he called the snare laid for me. it is almost impossible for an american to believe that even in russia he incurs any risk in speaking what he thinks; he is apt to regard the stories of summary punishment for freedom of speech as bugbears or bygone things. in my own case, even when men looked cautiously around the room and then spoke in whispers, i could not believe that there was any danger. still i had become prudent enough not to talk with any unnecessary indiscretion of the constituted authorities, and, even in writing home to my friends, not to say anything that could prejudice me if the letter should fall into wrong hands; and now, although i did not consider that i had run any great risk, i was rather pleased that i had said nothing exceptionable; and though i had no apprehension, particularly since i had been put on my guard, i determined to drop my new acquaintance, and did not consider myself bound to observe any great courtesy in the mode of doing it. i had had a supper, which it was my original intention to return with a dinner; but i did not consider myself under any obligation to him for civilities shown in the exercise of his despicable calling. the first time i met him i made no apology for having been out when he called according to appointment, and did not ask him to come again. i continued to meet him in the streets and at every public place, but our greetings became colder and colder, and the day before i left moscow we brushed against each other without speaking at all. so much for acquaintances who, after an intimacy of three or four hours, had ridden home under the same cloak, with their arms around each other's neck. but to return: as soon as the marquis left me i again went to the kremlin, to me the great, i had almost said the only, object of interest in moscow. i always detested a cicerone; his bowing, fawning, and prating annoyed me; and all through italy, with my map and guide-book under my arm, i was in the habit of rambling about alone. i did the same at moscow, and again walked to the kremlin unaccompanied. unlike many of the places i had visited, all the interest i had felt in looking forward to the kremlin was increased when i stood within its walls. i had thought of it as the rude and barbarous palace of the czars; but i found it one of the most extraordinary, beautiful, and magnificent objects i ever beheld. i rambled over it several times with admiration, without attempting to comprehend it all. its commanding situation on the banks of the moskwa river; its high and venerable walls; its numerous battlements, towers, and steeples; its magnificent and gorgeous palaces; its cathedrals, churches, monasteries, and belfries, with their gilded, coppered, and tin-plated domes; its mixture of barbarism and decay, magnificence and ruins; its strong contrast of architecture, including the tartarian, hindoo, chinese, and gothic; and, rising above all, the lofty tower of ivan veliki, with its golden ball reflecting the sun with dazzling brilliancy, all together exhibited a beauty, grandeur, and magnificence strange and indescribable. [illustration: the kremlin.] the kremlin is "the heart" and "sacred place" of moscow, once the old fortress of the tartars, and now the centre of the modern city. it is nearly triangular in form, enclosed by a high brick wall painted white, and nearly two miles in extent, and is in itself a city. it has five gates, at four of which there are high watch-towers. the fifth is "our saviour's," or the holy gate, through whose awe-commanding portals no male, not even the emperor and autocrat of all the russias, can pass except with uncovered head and bended body. bareheaded, i entered by this gate, and passed on to a noble esplanade, commanding one of the most interesting views of moscow, and having in front the range of palaces of the czars. i shall not attempt to describe these palaces. they are a combination of every variety of taste and every order of architecture, grecian, gothic, italian, tartar, and hindoo, rude, fanciful, grotesque, gorgeous, magnificent, and beautiful. the churches, monasteries, arsenals, museum, and public buildings are erected with no attempt at regularity of design, and in the same wild confusion of architecture. there are no regular streets, but three open places or squares, and abundance of room for carriages and foot passengers, with which, in summer afternoons, it is always thronged. having strolled for some time about the kremlin, i entered the cathedral of the assumption, the most splendid church in moscow. it was founded in , and rebuilt in . it is loaded with gorgeous and extravagant ornaments. the iconastos or screen which divides the sanctuary from the body of the church is in many parts covered with plates of solid silver and gold, richly and finely wrought. on the walls are painted the images of more than two thousand three hundred saints, some at full length and some of a colossal size, and the whole interior seems illuminated with gold, of which more than two hundred and ten thousand leaves have been employed in embellishing it. from the centre of the roof is suspended a crown of massive silver, with forty-eight chandeliers, all in a single piece, and weighing nearly three thousand pounds. besides the portraits of saints and martyrs, there are portraits of the old historians, whose names, to prevent confusion, are attached to their resemblances, as aristotle, anarcharsis, thucydides, plutarch, &c. some of the paintings on wood could not fail to delight an antiquary, inasmuch as every vestige of paint being obliterated, there is abundance of room for speculation as to their age and character. there is also an image of the virgin, painted by st. luke's own hand!!! the face dark, almost black, the head encircled with a glory of precious stones, and the hands and the body gilded. it is reverenced for its miraculous powers, guarded with great care, and enclosed within a large silver covering, which is never removed but on great religious festivals, or on payment of a ruble to the verger. here, too, is a nail from the cross, a robe of our saviour's, and part of one of the virgin's!!! and here, too, are the tombs of the church patriarchs, one of whom, st. phillippe, honoured by a silver monument, dared to say to john the terrible, "we respect you as an image of the divinity, but as a man you partake of the dust of the earth." the cathedral of the assumption is honoured as the place where the sovereigns of russia are crowned, and there is but a step from their throne to their grave, for near it is the cathedral of the archangel michael, the ancient burial-place where, in raised sepulchres, lie the bodies of the czars, from the time when moscow became the seat of empire until the close of the seventeenth century. the bodies rest in raised tombs or sepulchres, each covered with a velvet pall, and having on it a silver plate, bearing the name of the occupant and the date of his decease. close by is an odd-looking church, constantly thronged with devotees; a humble structure, said to be the oldest christian church in moscow. it was built in the desert, before moscow was thought of, and its walls are strong enough to last till the gorgeous city shall become a desert again. after strolling through the churches i ascended the tower of ivan veliki, or john the great, the first of the czars. it is about two hundred and seventy feet high, and contains thirty-three bells, the smallest weighing seven thousand, and the largest more than one hundred and twenty-four thousand pounds english. on festivals they are all tolled together, the muscovites being extremely fond of ivan veliki's music. this celebrated tower rises above every other object in the kremlin, and its large gilded dome and cross are conspicuous from every part of the city. from its top i had the finest view of moscow and the surrounding country, and, perhaps, the finest panoramic view in the world. hundreds of churches were in sight, with their almost innumerable domes, and spires, and crosses glittering with gold, tartaric battlements, terraces, balconies, and ramparts. gothic steeples, grecian columns, the star, the crescent, and the cross, palaces, mosques, and tartar temples, pagodas, pavilions, and verandas, monasteries peeping out over high walls and among noble trees, the stream of the moskwa winding prettily below, and in the distance the sparrow hills, on which the french army first made its appearance on the invasion of moscow. it may seem strange, but i did not feel myself a stranger on the top of that tower. thousands of miles away i had read its history. i knew that the magnificent city at my feet had been a sheet of fire, and that, when napoleon fled by the light of its conflagration, a dreadful explosion shook to their foundation the sacred precincts of the kremlin, and rent from its base to its top the lofty tower of ivan. i descended, and the custode conducted me to another well-known object, the great bell, the largest, and the wonder of the world. it is only a short distance from the foot of the tower, in an excavation under ground, accessible by a trapdoor, like the covered mouth of a well. i descended by a broken ladder, and can hardly explain to myself the curiosity and interest with which i examined this monstrous piece of metal. i have no knowledge of or taste for mechanics, and no particular penchant for bells, even when spelled with an additional e; but i knew all about this one, and it added wonderfully to the interest with which i strolled through the kremlin, that, from accidental circumstances, i was familiar with every object within its walls. i impeach, no doubt, my classical taste, but, before seeing either, i had dwelt with more interest upon the kremlin, and knew more of it, than of the acropolis at athens; and i stood at the foot of the great bell almost with a feeling of reverence. its perpendicular height is twenty-one feet four inches, and the extreme thickness of the metal twenty-three inches; the length of the clapper is fourteen feet, the greatest circumference sixty-seven feet four inches, its weight upward of four hundred thousand pounds english, and its cost has been estimated at more than three hundred and sixty-five thousand pounds sterling. there is some question whether this immense bell was ever hung, but it is supposed that it was suspended by a great number of beams and crossbeams; that it was rung by forty or fifty men, one half on either side, who pulled the clapper by means of ropes, and that the sound amazed and deafened the inhabitants. on one side is a crack large enough to admit the figure of a man. i went inside and called aloud, and received an echo like the reverberations of thunder. [illustration: the great bell.] besides the great bell, there is another noisy musical instrument, namely, the great gun, like the bell, the largest in the world, being a four thousand three hundred and twenty pounder. it is sixteen feet long, and the diameter of its calibre nearly three feet. i jumped in and turned round in its mouth, and sat upright, my head not reaching the top. all around were planted cannon taken from the french in their unhappy expedition against the capital of russia; immense fieldpieces, whose throats once poured their iron hail against the walls within which they now repose as trophies. i was attracted by a crowd at the door of one of the principal buildings, which i found to be the treasury, containing what a russian prizes as his birthright, the repository of sacred heirlooms; the doorkeeper demanded a permit, and i answered him with rubles and entered the treasury. on the first floor are the ancient imperial carriages; large, heavy, and extraordinary vehicles, covered with carving and gilding, and having large plate glass windows; among them was an enormous sleigh, carved and profusely gilded, and containing a long table with cushioned seats on each side; all together, these vehicles were most primitive and asiatic in appearance, and each one had some long and interesting story connected with it. i ascended by a noble staircase to the _belle etage_, a gallery composed of five parts, in the first of which are the portraits of all the emperors and czars and their wives, in the exact costume of the times in which they lived; in another is a model of a palace projected by the empress catharine to unite the whole kremlin under one roof, having a circumference of two miles, and make of it one magnificent palace; if it had been completed according to the plan, this palace would probably have surpassed the temple of solomon or any of the seven wonders of the world. in another is a collection of precious relics, such as the crowns worn by the different emperors and czars, loaded with precious stones; the dresses worn at their marriages; the canopies under which the emperors are married, surmounted by magnificent plumes; two canopies of red velvet, studded with gold, and a throne with two seats. the crown of prince vladimir is surmounted by a golden cross, and ornamented with pearls and precious stones, and, until the time of peter the great, was used to crown the czars; the crown of the conquered kingdom of cazan was placed there by the victorious hands of john vassilivitch. besides these were the crowns of the conquered countries of astrachan and siberia. that of john alexius has eight hundred and eighty-one diamonds, and under the cross which surmounts it is an immense ruby. there were also the crown of peter the great, containing eight hundred and forty-seven diamonds; that of catharine the first, his widow, containing two thousand five hundred and thirty-six fine diamonds, to which the empress anne added a ruby of enormous size, bought by the russian ambassador at pekin; and, lastly, the crown of unhappy poland! it is of polished gold, surmounted by a cross, but no other ornament. and there were other emblems of royalty: a throne or greek fauteuil of ivory, in arabesque, presented to john the great by the ambassadors who accompanied from rome to moscow the princess sophia, whom he had demanded in marriage. she was the daughter of thomas paleologus porphrygenitus brother of constantine paleologus, who died in fourteen hundred and fifty-three, after seeing his empire fall into the hands of the turks. by this marriage john considered himself the heir of constantine, and took the title of czar, meaning cæsar (this is one of the derivations of the name), and thus the emperor and autocrat of all the russias has the fairest claim to the throne of the cæsars, and, consequently, has always had an eye upon constantinople; then there are the throne of boris, adorned with two thousand seven hundred and sixty turquoises and other precious stones; that of michel, containing eight thousand eight hundred and twenty-four precious stones; that of alexius, containing eight hundred and seventy-six diamonds, one thousand two hundred and twenty-four other jewels, and many pearls, bought of a company of merchants trafficking to ispahan; the throne of the czars john and peter, made of massive silver, separated in the middle, the back a cloth of gold, concealing a hole through which the czarina used to dictate answers to the foreign ambassadors; and, lastly, the throne of poland! in the armory are specimens of ancient armour, the workmanship of every age and nation; coats of mail, sabres adorned with jewels, swords, batons, crosses in armour, imperial robes, ermines in abundance, and, finally, the clothes in which peter the great worked at saardam, including his old boots, from which it appears that he had considerable of a foot. these memorials were all interesting, and i wandered through the apartments till ordered out by the footman, when i returned to my hotel to meet my old friend the marquis, who was engaged to dine with me. at his suggestion we went to a new restaurant, patronized by a different set of people from those who frequented the restaurant au coin du pont des mareschaux, being chiefly frenchmen, manufacturers, and small merchants of various kinds, who, while they detested the country, found it a profitable business to introduce parisian luxuries and refinements among the barbarous russians. a party of about twenty sat at a long table, and relieved the severity of exile by talking of their beautiful and beloved france; many of them were old militaires; and my octogenarian friend, as a soldier distinguished under the empire, and identified with the glory of the french arms, was treated with a consideration and respect honourable to them and flattering to himself. at another table was another circle of strangers, composed almost exclusively of swiss, forming here, as elsewhere, one of the most valuable parts of the foreign population; keeping alive by intercourse with each other the recollections of home, and looking to the time when, with the profits of successful industry, they might return to their wild and beloved native mountains. "dear is that hill to which his soul conforms, and dear that cliff which lifts him to the storms." before we rose from table my friend of the theatre came in and took his seat at one end; he talked and laughed louder than any one else, and was received generally with an outward appearance of cordiality; but the old marquis could not endure his presence. he said he had become too old to learn, and it was too late in life to temporize with dishonour; that he did not blame his countrymen; fair words cost nothing, and it was not worth their while wilfully to make an enemy who would always be on their haunches; but as to himself, he had but a few years to live, and he would not sully the last moments of his life by tolerating a man whom he regarded as a disgrace to his country. we rose from the table, the old marquis leaning on my arm, and pouring in my ears his honest indignation at the disgraceful character of his countryman, and proceeded to the kitaigorod, or chinese town, the division immediately encircling the kremlin. it is enclosed by a wall with battlements, towers, and gates; is handsomely and compactly built, with wide, clean, and regular streets, and thronged with every variety of people, greeks, turks, tartars, cossacks, chinese, muscovites, french, italians, poles, and germans, in the costumes of their respective nations. the quarter is entirely russian, and i did not find in the shops a single person who could speak any language but russian. in one of them, where i was conducted by the marquis, i found the old mongik to whom i before referred, who could not agree with his master for the price of his ransom. the principal shops resemble the bazars in the east, though they are far superior even to those in constantinople, being built of stone, and generally in the form of arcades. they are well filled with every description of asiatic goods; and some of them, particularly their tea, and tobacco, and pipe shops, are models of propriety and cleanliness. the façade of the great bazar or market is very imposing, resting the whole length on corinthian columns. it fronts on a noble square, bounded on the opposite side by the white walls of the kremlin, and contains six thousand "bargaining shops." the merchants live at a distance, and, on leaving their shops at sundown, each of them winds a piece of cord round the padlock of his door, and seals it with soft wax; a seal being with the russians more sacred than a lock. in another section of the kitaigorod is the finest part of the city, containing the hotels and residences of the nobles, many of which are truly magnificent. the hotel at which i put up would in italy be called a palace. as we moved slowly along the street by the pont des mareschaux, we discoursed of the terrible inroads at this moment making by the french in the capital of the north, almost every shop having an inviting sign of nouveautés from paris. foiled in their attempt with the bayonet, they are now advancing with apparently more feeble but far more insidious and fatal weapons; and the rugged russian, whom french arms could not conquer, bows to the supremacy of the french modistes and artistes, and quietly wears the livery of the great mistress of fashion. chapter iv. the drosky.--salle des nobles.--russian gaming.--gastronomy.--pedroski.--a sunday in moscow.--a gipsy belle.--tea drinking.--the emperor's garden.--retrospective. early the next morning i mounted a drosky and rode to a celebrated garden or springs, furnished with every description of mineral water. i have several times spoken of the drosky. this may be called the russian national vehicle, for it is found all over russia, and nowhere else that i know of, except at warsaw, where it was introduced by its russian conquerors. it is on four wheels, with a long cushioned seat running lengthwise, on which the rider sits astride as on horseback, and so low that he can mount from the street. it is drawn by two horses; one in shafts, with a high arched bow over the neck called the douga, and the other, called "le furieux," in traces alongside, this last being trained to curb his neck and canter while the shaft-horse trots. the seat is long enough for two besides the driver, the riders sitting with their feet on different sides; or sometimes there is a cross-seat behind, on which the riders sit, with their faces to the horses, and the drosky boy, always dressed in a long surtout, with a bell-crowned hat turned up at the sides, sits on the end. but to return to the springs. the waters are prepared under the direction of medical men, who have the chymical analysis of all the principal mineral waters known, and manufacture them to order. as is universally the case in russia, where there is any attempt at style, the establishment is upon a magnificent scale. the building contains a room perhaps one hundred and fifty feet long, with a clean and highly-polished floor, large looking-glasses, elegant sofas, and mahogany chairs and tables. the windows open upon a balcony extending along the whole front, which is furnished with tables and rustic chairs, and opens upon a large garden ornamented with gravel-walks, trees, and the most rare and valuable plants and flowers, at the time of my visit in full bloom. every morning, from sunrise till noon, crowds of people, and particularly the nobility and higher classes, frequent this establishment, and that morning there was a larger collection than usual. russian hospitality is conspicuous at a place like this. a stranger, instead of being avoided, is sought out; and after one or two promenades i was accosted by more than one gentleman, ready to show me every civility. in the long room and on the balconies, scattered about at the different tables, i saw the gourmand who had distended his stomach almost to bursting, and near him the gaunt and bilious dyspeptic, drinking their favourite waters; the dashing officer and the blooming girl, the lover and coquette, and, in short, all the style and fashion of moscow, their eyes occasionally turning to the long mirrors, and then singly, in pairs and in groups, strolling gently through the gardens, enjoying the music that was poured forth from hidden arbours. returning through a street not far from my hotel, i saw a line of carriages, and gentlemen and ladies passing under a light arcade, which formed the entrance to a large building. i joined the throng, and was put back by the doorkeeper because i was not in a dresscoat. i ran to my hotel and changed my frockcoat, but now i had no biglietto of entrance. a few rubles obviated this difficulty and admitted me to the _salle des nobles_, a magnificent apartment surrounded by a colonnade, capable of containing more than three thousand persons, and said to be the finest ballroom in europe. it belongs to a club of the nobility, and none are admitted as members but nobles. all games of hazard are forbidden; but, nevertheless, all games of hazard are played. indeed, among the "on dits" which a traveller picks up, gambling is said to be the great vice of russia. young men who have not two rubles to rub together will bet thousands; and, when all other resources fail, the dishonourable will cheat, but the delicate-minded will kill themselves. it is not uncommon for a young man to say at the cardtable over night, "i must shoot myself to-morrow;" and he is as good as his word. the salle was open for a few days, as a sort of fair, for the exhibition of specimens of russian manufacture; and, besides tables, workboxes, &c., there were some of the finest living specimens of genuine russian men and women that i had yet seen, though not to be compared, as a russian officer said, to whom i made the remark, with the exhibition of the same specimens in the waltz and mazourka, when the salle was lighted up and decorated for a ball. i returned to my hotel, where i found my old friend the marquis waiting, according to appointment, to dine with me. he would have accompanied me everywhere, but i saw that he suffered from the exertion, and would not allow it. meeting with me had struck a chord that had not been touched for years, and he was never tired of talking of his friends in america. every morning he breakfasted in my room, and we dined together every day. we went to the restaurant where i had supped with my friend of the theatre. the saloon was crowded, and at a table next us sat a seigneur, who was dining upon a delicacy that will surprise the reader, viz., one of his own female slaves, a very pretty girl, whom he had hired to the keeper of the restaurant for her maintenance and a dinner a volonté per annum for himself. this was the second time he had dined on her account, and she was then waiting upon him; a pretty, modest, delicate-looking girl, and the old noble seemed never to know when he had enough of her. we left him gloating over still untasted dishes, and apparently mourning that human ability could hold out no longer. in going out my old friend, in homely but pithy phrase, said the only difference between a russian seigneur and a russian serf is, that the one wears his shirt inside his trousers and the other outside; but my friend spoke with the prejudices of a soldier of france aggravated by more than twenty years of exile. so far as my observation extended, the higher classes are rather extraordinary for talent and acquirements. their government is unfortunate for the development and exercise of abilities. they have none of the learned profession; merchandise is disgraceful, and the army is the only field. with an ardent love of country and an ambition to distinguish himself, every nobleman becomes a soldier, and there is hardly an old or middle-aged individual of this class who was not in arms to repel the invasion of napoleon, and hardly a young man who did not serve lately in a less noble cause, the campaign in poland. the consequence of service in the army seems to have been generally a passion for display and expensive living, which sent them back to their estates, after their terms of service expired, over head and ears in debt. unable to come often to the cities, and obliged to live at their chateaux, deprived of all society, surrounded only by slaves, and feeling the want of the excitement incident to a military life, many of them become great gourmands, or rather, as my french friend said, gluttons. they do not eat, said he, they swallow; and the manner in which, with the true spirit of a frenchman who still remembered the cuisine of the palais royal, he commented upon their eating entremets, hors d'oeuvres, rotis, and desserts all pellmell, would have formed a proper episode to major hamilton's chapter upon americans eating eggs out of wineglasses. the old marquis, although he retained all his french prejudices against the russians, and always asserted, as the russians themselves admit, that, but for the early setting in of winter, napoleon would have conquered russia, allowed them the virtue of unbounded hospitality, and enumerated several principal families at whose tables he could at any time take a seat without any express invitation, and with whom he was always sure of being a welcome guest; and he mentioned the case of a compatriot who for years had a place regularly reserved for him at the table of a seigneur, which he took whenever he pleased without any questions being asked, until, having stayed away longer than usual, the seigneur sent to inquire for him, and learned that he was dead. but to return. toward evening i parted with the marquis, mounted a drosky, and rode to the country theatre at pedroski. pedroski is a place dear to the heart of every russian, having been the favourite residence of peter the great, to whom russia owes its existence among civilized nations. it is about three versts from the barrier, on the st. petersburgh road. the st. petersburgh gate is a very imposing piece of architecture. six spirited horses rest lightly upon the top, like the brazen horses at st. mark's in venice. a wide road, divided into avenues for carriages and pedestrians, gravelled and lined with trees, leads from the gate. the chateau is an old and singular, but interesting building of red brick, with a green dome and white cornices, and enclosed by a circular wall flanked with turrets. in the plain in front two regiments of cossack cavalry were going through their exercises. the grounds around the chateau are very extensive, handsomely laid out for carriages and promenades, public and retired, to suit every taste. the principal promenade is about a mile in length, through a forest of majestic old trees. on each side is a handsome footpath of continual shade; and sometimes almost completely hidden by the luxuriant foliage are beautiful little summer-houses, abundantly supplied with all kinds of refreshments. the theatre is at a little distance from the extreme end of the great promenade, a plain and unpretending building; and this and the grand operahouse are the only theatres i have seen built like ours, merely with continued rows of seats, and not partitioned off into private boxes. the opera was some little russian piece, and was followed by the grand ballet, the revolt of the seraglio. he who goes to russia expecting to see a people just emerging from a state of barbarism, will often be astonished to find himself suddenly in a scene of parisian elegance and refinement; and in no place will he feel this wonder more than in an operahouse at moscow. the house was rather full, and contained more of the russian nobility than i had yet seen at any one time. they were well dressed, adorned with stars and ribands, and, as a class of men, the "biggest in the round" i ever saw. orders and titles of nobility, by-the-way, are given with a liberality which makes them of no value; and all over russia princes are as plenty as pickpockets in london. the seigneurs of russia have jumped over all intermediate grades of civilization, and plunged at once into the luxuries of metropolitan life. the ballet was, of course, inferior to that of paris or london, but it is speaking in no mean praise of it to say that at this country theatre it might be made a subject of comparison. the dancers were the prettiest, the most interesting, and, what i was particularly struck with, the most modest looking i ever saw on the stage. it was melancholy to look at those beautiful girls, who, amid the glare and glitter of the stage, and in the graceful movements of the dance, were perfectly captivating and entrancing, and who, in the shades of domestic life, might fill the measure of man's happiness on earth, and know them to be slaves. the whole troop belongs to the emperor. they are selected when young with reference to their beauty and talents, and are brought up with great care and expense for the stage. with light fairy figures, seeming rather spirits than corporeal substances, and trained to inspire admiration and love, they can never give way to these feelings themselves, for their affections and marriages are regulated entirely by the manager's convenience. what though they are taken from the very poorest class of life, leaving their parents, their brothers and sisters, the tenants of miserable cabins, oppressed and vilified, and cold and hungry, while they are rolling in luxuries. a chain does not gall the less because it is gilded. raised from the lot to which they were born, taught ideas they would never have known, they but feel more sensibly the weight of their bonds; and the veriest sylph, whose graceful movements have brought down the loudest thunders of applause, and whose little heart flutters with the admiration she has excited, would probably give all her shortlived triumph for the privilege of bestowing that little flutterer where it would be loved and cherished. there was one among them whom i long remembered. i followed her with my eyes till the curtain fell and left a blank around me. i saw her go out, and afterward she passed me in one of a long train of dark blue carriages belonging to the direction, in which they are carried about like merchandise from theatre to theatre, but, like many other bright visions that broke upon me for a moment, i never saw her again. at about eleven i left the steps of the theatre to return home. it was a most magnificent night, or, rather, it is almost profanation to call it by so black a name, for in that bright northern climate the day seemed to linger, unwilling to give place before the shades of night. i strolled on alone, wrapped in lonely but not melancholy meditations; the carriages rolled rapidly by me, and i was almost the last of the throng that entered the gate of moscow. a sunday at moscow. to one who had for a long time been a stranger to the sound of the church-going bell, few things could be more interesting than a sunday at moscow. any one who has rambled along the maritime alps, and has heard from some lofty eminence the convent bell ringing for matins, vespers, and midnight prayers, will long remember the sweet yet melancholy sounds. to me there is always something touching in the sound of the church-going bell; touching in its own notes, but far more so in its associations. and these feelings were exceedingly fresh when i awoke on sunday in the holy city of moscow. in greece and turkey there are no bells; in russia they are almost innumerable, but this was the first time i had happened to pass the sabbath in a city. i lay and listened, almost fearing to move lest i should hush the sounds; thoughts of home came over me; of the day of rest, of the gathering for church, and the greeting of friends at the church door. but he who has never heard the ringing of bells at moscow does not know its music. imagine a city containing more than six hundred churches and innumerable convents, all with bells, and these all sounding together, from the sharp, quick hammer-note, to the loudest, deepest peals that ever broke and lingered on the ear, struck at long intervals, and swelling on the air as if unwilling to die away. i rose and threw open my window, dressed myself, and after breakfast, joining the throng called to their respective churches by their well-known bells, i went to what is called the english chapel, where, for the first time in many months, i joined in a regular church service, and listened to an orthodox sermon. i was surprised to see so large a congregation, though i remarked among them many english governesses with children, the english language being at that moment the rage among the russians, and multitudes of cast-off chambermaids adventuring thither to teach the rising russian nobility the beauties of the english tongue. all over the continent sunday is the great day for observing national manners and customs. i dined at an early hour with my friend the marquis, and, under his escort, mounting a drosky, rode to a great promenade of the people called _l'allée des peuples_. it lies outside the barrier, and beyond the state prisons, where the exiles for siberia are confined, on the land of count schremetow, the richest nobleman in russia, having one hundred and thirty thousand slaves on his estate; the chateau is about eight versts from the city, and a noble road through his own land leads from the barrier to his door. this promenade is the great rendezvous of the people; that is, of the merchants and shopkeepers of moscow. the promenade is simply a large piece of ground ornamented with noble trees, and provided with everything necessary for the enjoyment of all the national amusements, among which the russian mountain is the favourite; and refreshments were distributed in great abundance. soldiers were stationed at different points to preserve order, and the people seemed all cheerful and happy; but the life and soul of the place were the bohemian or gipsy girls. wherever they moved, a crowd gathered round them. they were the first i had seen of this extraordinary people. coming no one knows whence, and living no one knows how, wanderers from their birth, and with a history enveloped in doubt, it was impossible to mistake the dark complexion and piercing coal-black eyes of the gipsy women. the men were nowhere to be seen, nor were there any old women with them; and these young girls, well dressed, though, in general, with nothing peculiar in their costume, moved about in parties of five or six, singing, playing, and dancing to admiring crowds. one of them, with a red silk cloak trimmed with gold, and a gold band round her hair, struck me as the very _beau ideal_ of a gipsy queen. recognising me as a stranger, she stopped just in front of me, struck her castanets and danced, at the same time directing the movements of her companions, who formed a circle around me. there was a beauty in her face, combined with intelligence and spirit, that riveted my attention, and when she spoke her eyes seemed to read me through. i ought, perhaps, to be ashamed of it, but in all my wanderings i never regretted so much my ignorance of the language as when it denied me the pleasure of conversing with that gipsy girl. i would fain have known whether her soul did not soar above the scene and the employment in which i found her; whether she was not formed for better things than to display her beautiful person before crowds of boors; but i am sorry to add, that the character of my queen was not above reproach; and, as i had nothing but my character to stand upon in moscow, i was obliged to withdraw from the observation which her attention fixed upon me. leaving my swarthy princess with this melancholy reflection, and leaving the scene of humbler enjoyment, i mounted a drosky, and, depositing my old friend in the suburbs of the city, in half an hour was in another world, in the great promenade of pedroski, the gathering-place of the nobility, where all the rank and fashion of moscow were vying with each other in style and magnificence. the extensive grounds around the old chateau are handsomely disposed and ornamented with trees, but the great carriage promenade is equal to anything i ever saw. it is a straight road, more than a mile in length, through a thick forest of noble trees. for two hours before dark all the equipages in moscow paraded up and down this promenade. these equipages were striking and showy without being handsome, and the russian manner of driving four horses makes a very dashing appearance, the leaders being harnessed with long traces, perhaps twenty feet from the wheel horses, and guided by a lad riding the near leader, the coachman sitting as if nailed to the box, and merely holding the reins. all the rules of good taste, as understood in the capitals of southern europe, were set at defiance; and many a seigneur, who thought he was doing the thing in the very best style, had no idea how much his turnout would have shocked an english whip. but all this extravagance, in my eyes, added much to the effect of the scene; and the star-spangled muscovite who dashed up and down the promenade on horseback, with two calmuc tartars at his heels, attracted more of my attention than the plain gentleman who paced along with his english jockey and quiet elegance of equipment. the stars and decorations of the seigneurs set them off to great advantage; and scores of officers, with their showy uniforms, added brilliancy to the scene, while the footmen made as good an appearance as their masters. on either side of the grand promenade is a walk for foot passengers, and behind this, almost hidden from view by the thick shade of trees, are little cottages, arbours, and tents, furnished with ices and all kinds of refreshments suited to the season. i should have mentioned long since that tea, the very pabulum of all domestic virtues, is the russian's favourite beverage. they say that they have better tea than can be obtained in europe, which they ascribe to the circumstance of its being brought by caravans over land, and saved the exposure of a sea voyage. whether this be the cause or not, if i am any judge they are right as to the superiority of their article; and it was one of the most striking features in the animating scene at pedroski to see family groups distributed about, all over the grounds, under the shade of noble trees, with their large brass urn hissing before them, and taking their tea under the passing gaze of thousands of people with as much unconcern as if by their own firesides. leaving for a moment the thronged promenade, i turned into a thick forest and entered the old chateau of the great peter. there all was solitude; the footman and i had the palace to ourselves. i followed him through the whole range of apartments, in which there was an appearance of staid respectability that quite won my heart, neither of them being any better furnished than one of our oldfashioned country houses. the pomp and show that i saw glittering through the openings in the trees were unknown in the days of the good old peter; the chateau was silent and deserted; the hand that built it was stiff and cold, and the heart that loved it had ceased to beat; old peter was in his grave, and his descendants loved better their splendid palaces on the banks of the neva. when moscow was burning, napoleon fled to this chateau for refuge. i stopped for a moment in the chamber where, by the blaze of the burning city, he dictated his despatches for the capital of france; gave the attendant a ruble, and again mixed with the throng, with whom i rambled up and down the principal promenade, and at eleven o'clock was at my hotel. i ought not to forget the russian ladies; but, after the gay scene at pedroski, it is no disparagement to them if i say that, in my quiet walk home, the dark-eyed gipsy girl was uppermost in my thoughts. the reader may perhaps ask if such is indeed what the traveller finds in russia; "where are the eternal snows that cover the steppes and the immense wastes of that northern empire? that chill the sources of enjoyment, and congeal the very fountains of life?" i answer, they have but just passed by, and they will soon come again; the present is the season of enjoyment; the russians know it to be brief and fleeting, and, like butterflies, unfold themselves to the sun and flutter among the flowers. like them, i made the most of it at moscow. mounted in a drosky, i hurried from church to church, from convent to convent, and from quarter to quarter. but although it is the duty of a traveller to see everything that is to be seen, and although there is a kind of excitement in hurrying from place to place, which he is apt to mistake for pleasure, it is not in this that his real enjoyment is found. his true pleasure is in turning quietly to those things which are interesting to the imagination as well as to the eyes, and so i found myself often turning from the churches and palaces, specimens of architecture and art, to the sainted walls of the kremlin. here were the first and last of my visits; and whenever i sauntered forth without any specific object, perhaps to the neglect of many other places i ought to have seen, my footsteps involuntarily turned thitherward. outside and beneath the walls of the kremlin, and running almost the whole extent of its circumference, are boulevards and a public garden, called the emperor's, made within a few years, and the handsomest thing of the kind in moscow; i am not sure but that i may add anywhere else. i have compared it in my mind to the gardens of the luxembourg and tuileries, and in many respects hold it to be more beautiful. it is more agreeably irregular and undulating in its surface, and has a more rural aspect, and the groves and plants are better arranged, although it has not the statues, lakes, and fountains of the pride of paris. i loved to stroll through this garden, having on one side of me the magnificent buildings of the great russian princes, seigneurs, and merchants, among the finest and most conspicuous of which is the former residence of the unhappy queen of georgia; and on the other side, visible through the foliage of the trees, the white walls of the kremlin, and, towering above them, the domes of the palaces and churches within, and the lofty tower of ivan veliki. thence i loved to stroll to the holy gate of the kremlin. it is a vaulted portal, and over the entrance is a picture, with a lamp constantly burning; and a sentinel is always posted at the gate. i loved to stand by it and see the haughty seigneurs and the degraded serf alike humble themselves on crossing the sacred threshold, and then, with my hat in my hand, follow the footsteps of the venerating russian. once i attempted to brave the interdict, and go in with my head covered; but the soldier at the gate stopped me, and forbade my violating the sacred prohibition. within the walls i wandered about, without any definite object, sometimes entering the great church and beholding for a moment the prostrate russian praying before the image of some saint, or descending to look once more at the great bell, or at other times mounting the tower and gazing at the beautiful panorama of the city. on the last day of my stay in moscow a great crowd drew me to the door of the church, where some fête was in course of celebration, in honour of the birth, marriage, or some other incident in the life of the emperor or empress. the archbishop, a venerable-looking old man, was officiating, and when he came out a double line of men, women, and children was drawn up from the door of the church to his carriage, all pressing forward and struggling to kiss his hands. the crowd dispersed, and i strolled once more through the repository of heirlooms, and imperial reliques and trophies; but, passing by the crowns loaded with jewels, the canopies and thrones adorned with velvet and gold, i paused before the throne of unhappy poland! i have seen great cities desolate and in ruins, magnificent temples buried in the sands of the african desert, and places once teeming with fertility now lying waste and silent; but no monument of fallen greatness ever affected me more than this. it was covered with blue velvet and studded with golden stars. it had been the seat of casimir, and sobieski, and stanislaus augustus. brave men had gathered round it and sworn to defend it, and died in redeeming their pledge. their oaths are registered in heaven, their bodies rest in bloody graves; poland is blotted from the list of nations, and her throne, unspotted with dishonour, brilliant as the stars which glitter on its surface, is exhibited as a russian trophy, before which the stoutest manhood need not blush to drop a tear. toward evening i returned to my favourite place, the porch of the palace of the czars. i seated myself on the step, took out my tablets, and commenced a letter to my friends at home. what should i write? above me was the lofty tower of ivan veliki; below, a solitary soldier, in his gray overcoat, was retiring to a sentry-box to avoid a drizzling rain. his eyes were fixed upon me, and i closed my book. i am not given to musing, but i could not help it. here was the theatre of one of the most extraordinary events in the history of the world. after sixty battles and a march of more than two thousand miles, the grand army of napoleon entered moscow, and found no smoke issuing from a single chimney, nor a muscovite even to gaze upon them from the battlements or walls. moscow was deserted, her magnificent palaces forsaken by their owners, her three hundred thousand inhabitants vanished as if they had never been. silent and amazed, the grand army filed through its desolate streets. approaching the kremlin, a few miserable, ferocious, and intoxicated wretches, left behind as a savage token of the national hatred, poured a volley of musketry from the battlements. at midnight the flames broke out in the city; napoleon, driven from his quarters in the suburbs, hurried to the kremlin, ascended the steps, and entered the door at which i sat. for two days the french soldiers laboured to repress the fierce attempts to burn the city. russian police-officers were seen stirring up the fire with tarred lances; hideous-looking men and women, covered with rags, were wandering like demons amid the flames, armed with torches, and striving to spread the conflagration. at midnight again the whole city was in a blaze; and while the roof of the kremlin was on fire, and the panes of the window against which he leaned were burning to the touch, napoleon watched the course of the flames and exclaimed, "what a tremendous spectacle! these are scythians indeed." amid volumes of smoke and fire, his eyes blinded by the intense heat, and his hands burned in shielding his face from its fury, and traversing streets arched with fire, he escaped from the burning city. russia is not classic ground. it does not stand before us covered with the shadow of great men's deeds. a few centuries ago it was overrun by wandering tribes of barbarians; but what is there in those lands which stand forth on the pages of history, crowned with the glory of their ancient deeds, that, for extraordinary daring, for terrible sublimity, and undaunted patriotism, exceeds the burning of moscow. neither marathon, nor thermopylæ, nor the battle of the horatii, nor the defence of cocles, nor the devotion of the decii, can equal it; and when time shall cover with its dim and quiet glories that bold and extraordinary deed, the burning of moscow will be regarded as outstripping all that we read of grecian or roman patriotism, and the name of the russian governor (rostopchin), if it be not too tough a name to hand down to posterity, will never be forgotten. chapter v. getting a passport.--parting with the marquis.--the language of signs.--a loquacious traveller.--from moscow to st. petersburgh.--the wolga.--novogorod.--newski perspective.--an unfortunate mistake.--northern twilight. unable to remain longer in moscow, i prepared for my journey for st. petersburgh. several diligences run regularly between these two great cities; one of which, the velocifère, is superior to any public conveyance on the continent of europe. i took my place in that, and two days beforehand sent my passport to be _viséd_. i sent for it the next day, and it was not ready. i went myself, and could not get it. i knew that nothing could be done at the russian offices without paying for it, and was ready and willing to do so, and time after time i called the attention of the officer to my passport. he replied coolly, "_dans un instant_," and, turning to something else, kept me waiting two hours; and when at length he took it up and arranged it, he led me down stairs out of sight to receive the expected _douceur_. he was a well-dressed man, with the large government button on his coat, and rather distingué in his appearance and manners. i took the passport, folded it up, and put it in my pocket with a coolness equal to his own, and with malicious pleasure put into his hand a single ruble, equal to twenty cents of our money; he expected at least twenty-five rubles, or about five dollars, and his look of rage and disappointment amply repaid me for all the vexation he had caused by his delay. i bade him farewell with a smile that almost drove him mad. bribery is said to be almost universal among the inferior officers of government, and there is a story of a frenchman in russia which illustrates the system. he had an office, of which the salary was so small that he could not live upon it. at first he would not take bribes, but stern necessity drove him to it, and while he was about it he did the thing handsomely. having overreached the mark, and been guilty of being detected, he was brought before the proper tribunal; and when asked, "why did you take a bribe?" his answer was original and conclusive, "i take, thou takest, he takes, we take, you take, they take!" i told the marquis the story of my parting interview at the police-office, which he said was capital, but startled me by suggesting that, if there should happen to be any irregularity, i would have great trouble in getting it rectified; even this, however, did not disturb my immediate satisfaction, and, fortunately, all was right. the morning of my departure, before i was out of bed, the marquis was in my room. meeting with me had revived in him feelings long since dead; and at the moment of parting he told me, what his pride had till that moment concealed, that his heart yearned once more to his kindred; and that, if he had the means, old as he was, he would go to america. and yet, though his frame trembled and his voice was broken, and his lamp was almost burned out, his spirit was as high as when he fought the battles of the empire; and he told me to say to them that he would not come to be a dependant upon their bounty; that he could repay all they should do for him by teaching their children. he gave me his last painting, which he regarded with the pride of an artist, as a souvenir for his sister; but having no means of carrying it safely, i was obliged to return it to him. he remained with me till the moment of my departure, clung to my hand after i had taken my place in the drosky, and when we had started i looked back and saw him still standing in the road. it seemed as if the last link that bound him to earth was broken. he gave me a letter, which i forwarded to his friends at home; his sister was still living, and had not forgotten her long-lost brother; she had not heard from him in twenty years, and had long believed him dead. pecuniary assistance was immediately sent to him, and, unhappily, since my return home, intelligence has been received that it arrived only at the last moment when human aid could avail him; in time to smooth the pillow of death by the assurance that his friends had not forgotten him. and perhaps, in his dying moments, he remembered me. at all events, it is some satisfaction, amid the recollections of an unprofitable life, to think that, when his checkered career was drawing to its close, i had been the means of gladdening for a moment the old exile's heart. i must not forget my host, the quondam exile to siberia. in his old days his spirit too was chafed at living under despotism, and, like the marquis, he also hoped, before he died, to visit america. i gave him my address, with the hope, but with very little expectation, of seeing him again. a travelling companion once remarked, that if every vagabond to whom i gave my address should find his way to america, i would have a precious set to present to my friends. be it so; there is not a vagabond among them whom i would not be glad to see. my english companion and myself had seen but little of each other at moscow. he intended to remain longer than i did, but changed his mind, and took a place in the same diligence for st. petersburgh. this diligence was the best i ever rode in; and, for a journey of nearly five hundred miles, we could not have been more comfortably arranged. it started at the hour punctually, as from the messagere in paris. we rolled for the last time through the streets of moscow, and in a few minutes passed out at the st. petersburgh gate. our companions were a man about thirty-five, a cattle-driver, with his trousers torn, and his linen hanging out ostentatiously in different places, and an old man about sixty-five, just so far civilized as to have cut off the long beard and put on broadcloth clothes. it was the first time the old man had ever been on a journey from home; everything was new to him, and he seemed puzzled to know what to make of us; he could not comprehend how we could look, and walk, and eat like russians, and not talk like them. my place was directly opposite his, and, as soon as we were seated, he began to talk to me. i looked at him and made no answer; he began again, and went on in an uninterrupted strain for several minutes, more and more surprised that i did not answer, or answered only in unintelligible sounds. after a while he seemed to come to the conclusion that i was deaf and dumb and turned to my companion as to my keeper for an explanation. finding he could do nothing there, he appeared alarmed, and it was some time before he could get a clear idea of the matter. when he did, however, he pulled off an amazingly white glove, took my hand and shook it, pointed to his head, shook it, and touched my head, then put his hand to his heart, then to my heart; all which was to say, that though our heads did not understand each other, our hearts did. but though he saw we did not understand him, he did not on that account stop talking; indeed, he talked incessantly, and the only way of stopping him was to look directly in his face and talk back again; and i read him long lectures, particularly upon the snares and temptations of the world into which he was about to plunge, and wound up with stanzas of poetry and scraps of greek and latin, all which the old man listened to without ever interrupting me, bending his ear as if he expected every moment to catch something he understood; and when i had finished, after a moment's blank expression he whipped off his white glove, took my hand, and touched significantly his head and heart. indeed, a dozen times a day he did this; and particularly whenever we got out, on resuming our seats, as a sort of renewal of the compact of good fellowship, the glove invariably came off, and the significant movement between the hand, head, and heart was repeated. the second day a young seigneur named chickoff, who spoke french, joined the diligence, and through him we had full explanations with the old russian. he always called me the american graff or noble, and said that, after being presented to the emperor, i should go down with him into the country. my worthy comrade appeared at first to be not a little bored by the old man's garrulous humour; but at length, seized by a sudden whim, began, as he said, to teach him english. but such english! he taught him, after a fashion peculiarly his own, the manner of addressing a lady and gentleman in english; and very soon, with the remarkable facility of the russians in acquiring languages, the old man, utterly unconscious of their meaning, repeated the words with extraordinary distinctness; and regularly, when he took his place in the diligence, he accompanied the significant movements of his hand, head, and heart to me with the not very elegant address taught him by my companion. though compelled to smile inwardly at the absurdity of the thing, i could not but feel the inherent impropriety of the conduct of my eccentric fellow-traveller; and ventured to suggest to him that, though he had an undoubted right to do as he pleased in matters that could not implicate me, yet, independent of the very questionable character of the joke itself (for the words savoured more of wapping than of st. james's), as we were known to have travelled together, a portion of the credit of having taught the old russian english might fall upon me--an honour of which i was not covetous, and, therefore, should tell the old man never to repeat the words he had been taught, which i did without assigning any reason for it, and before we arrived at st. petersburgh he had forgotten them. the road from moscow to st. petersburgh is now one of the best in europe. it is macadamized nearly the whole way, and a great part is bordered with trees; the posthouses are generally large and handsome, under the direction of government, where soup, cutlets, &c., are always ready at a moment's notice, at prices regulated by a tariff hanging up in the room, which, however, being written in russian, was of no particular use to us. the country is comparatively thickly settled, and villages are numerous. even on this road, however, the villages are forlorn things, being generally the property and occupied by the serfs of the seigneurs, and consisting of a single long street, with houses on both sides built of logs, the better sort squared, with the gable end to the street, the roofs projecting two or three feet from the houses, and sometimes ornamented with rude carving and small holes for windows. we passed several chateaux, large, imposing buildings, with parks and gardens, and a large church, painted white, with a green dome surmounted by a cross. in many places on the road are chapels with figures of the panagia, or all holy virgin, or some of the saints; and our old russian, constantly on the lookout for them, never passed one without taking off his hat and going through the whole formula of crosses; sometimes, in entering a town, they came upon us in such quick succession, first on one side, then on the other, that, if he had not been engaged in, to him, a sacred ceremony, his hurry and perplexity would have been ludicrous. during the night we saw fires ahead, and a little off the road were the bivouacs of teamsters or wayfarers, who could not pay for lodging in a miserable russian hut. all the way we met the great caravan teams carrying tallow, hides, hemp, and other merchandise to the cities, and bringing back wrought fabrics, groceries, &c., into the interior. they were generally thirty or forty together, one man or woman attending to three or four carts, or, rather, neglecting them, as the driver was generally asleep on the top of his load. the horses, however, seemed to know what they were about; for as the diligence came rolling toward them, before the postillion could reach them with his whip, they intuitively hurried out of the way. the bridges over the streams and rivers are strong, substantial structures, built of heavy hewn granite, with iron balustrades, and ornamented in the centre with the double-headed eagle, the arms of russia. at tver we passed the wolga on a bridge of boats. this noble river, the longest in europe, navigable almost from its source for an extent of four thousand versts, dividing, for a great part of its course, europe and asia, runs majestically through the city, and rolls on, bathing the walls of the city of astrachan, till it reaches the distant caspian; its banks still inhabited by the same tribes of warlike cossacks who hovered on the skirts of the french army during their invasion of russia. by its junction with the tverza, a communication is made between the wolga and neva, or, in other words, between the caspian and baltic. the impetus of internal improvements has extended even to the north of europe, and the emperor nicolas is now actively engaged in directing surveys of the great rivers of russia for the purpose of connecting them by canals and railroads, and opening steam communications throughout the whole interior of his empire. a great number of boats of all sizes, for carrying grain to the capital, were lying off the city. these boats are generally provided with one mast, which, in the largest, may equal a frigate's mainmast. "the weight of the matsail," an english officer remarks, "must be prodigious, having no fewer than one hundred breadths in it; yet the facility with which it is managed bears comparison with that of the yankees with their boom mainsail in their fore-and-aft clippers." the rudder is a ponderous machine, being a broad piece of timber floating astern twelve or fifteen feet, and fastened to the tiller by a pole, which descends perpendicularly into the water; the tiller is from thirty to forty feet long, and the pilot who turns it stands upon a scaffold at that distance from the stern. down the stream a group of cossacks were bathing, and i could not resist the temptation to throw myself for a moment into this king of rivers. the diligence hurried me, and, as it came along, i gathered up my clothes and dressed myself inside. about eighty versts from st. petersburgh we came to the ancient city of novogorod. in the words of an old traveller, "next unto moscow, the city of novogorod is reputed the chiefest in russia; for although it be in majestie inferior to it, yet in greatness it goeth beyond it. it is the chiefest and greatest mart-town of all muscovy; and albeit the emperor's seat is not there, but at moscow, yet the commodiousness of the river, falling into that gulf which is called sinus finnicus, whereby it is well frequented by merchants, makes it more famous than moscow itself." few of the ruined cities of the old world present so striking an appearance of fallen greatness as this comparatively unknown place. there is an ancient saying, "who can resist the gods and novogorod the great?" three centuries ago it covered an area of sixty-three versts in circumference, and contained a population of more than four hundred thousand inhabitants. some parts of it are still in good condition, but the larger portion has fallen to decay. its streets present marks of desolation, mouldering walls, and ruined churches, and its population has dwindled to little more than seven thousand inhabitants. the steeples in this ancient city bear the cross, unaccompanied by the crescent, the proud token showing that the tartars, in all their invasions, never conquered it, while in the reconquered cities the steeples all exhibit the crescent surmounted by the cross. late in the afternoon of the fourth day we were approaching st. petersburgh. the ground is low and flat, and i was disappointed in the first view of the capital of russia; but passing the barrier, and riding up the newski perspective, the most magnificent street in that magnificent city, i felt that the stories of its splendour were not exaggerated, and that this was, indeed, entitled to the proud appellation of the "palmyra of the north." my english companion again stopped at a house kept by an englishwoman and frequented by his countrymen, and i took an apartment at a hotel in a broad street with an unpronounceable russian name, a little off the newski perspective. i was worn and fatigued with my journey, but i could not resist the inclination to take a gentle promenade along the newski perspective. while in the coffee-room refreshing myself with a cup of the best russian tea, i heard some one outside the door giving directions to a tailor, and presently a man entered, whom, without looking at him, i told he was just the person i wanted to see, as i had a pair of pantaloons to be mended. he made no answer, and, without being able to see distinctly, i told him to wait till i could go up stairs and change them, and that he must mend them strongly and bring them back in the morning. in all probability, the next moment i should have been sprawling on the floor; but the landlady, a clever frenchwoman, who saw my error stepped up, and crying out, "ah, monsieur colonel, attendez, attendez," explained my mistake as clearly as i could have done myself, and i followed closely with an apology, adding that my remark could not be intended as disrespectful to him, inasmuch as even then, with the windows closed, i could scarcely distinguish his person. he understood the thing at once, accepted my apology with great frankness, and, instead of knocking me down, or challenging me to fight with sabre or some other diabolical thing, finding i was a stranger just arrived from moscow, sat down at the table, and before we rose offered to accompany me in my walk. there could be no mistake as to the caste of my new friend. the landlady had called him colonel, and, in repelling the imputation of his being a tailor, had spoken of him as a rich seigneur, who for ten years had occupied the front apartments _au premier_ in her hotel. we walked out into the newski perspective, and strolled along that magnificent street down to the admiralty, and along the noble quays of the neva. i had reached the terminus of my journey; for many months i had been moving farther and farther away, and the next step i took would carry me toward home. it was the eve of the fourth of july; and as i strolled through the broad streets and looked up at the long ranges of magnificent buildings, i poured into the ear of my companion the recollections connected with this moment at home: in boyhood, crackers and fireworks in readiness for the great jubilee of the morrow; and, latterly, the excursion into the country to avoid the bustle and confusion of "the glorious fourth." at moscow and during the journey i had admired the exceeding beauty of the twilight in these northern latitudes but this night in st. petersburgh it was magnificent. i cannot describe the peculiar shades of this northern twilight. it is as if the glare and brilliancy of the sun were softened by the mellowing influence of the moon, and the city, with its superb ranges of palaces, its statues, its bridges, and its clear and rapid river, seemed, under the reflection of that northern light, of a brilliant and almost unearthly beauty. i felt like rambling all night. even though worn with three days' travel, it was with me as with a young lady at her first ball; the night was too short. i could not bear to throw it away in sleep. my companion was tough, and by no means sentimental, and the scene was familiar to him; but he told me that, even in his eyes, it never lost its interest. moonlight is something, but this glorious twilight is a thing to enjoy and to remember; and, as the colonel remarked when we sat down in his apartment to a comfortable supper, it always gave him such an appetite. after supper i walked through a long corridor to my apartment, threw myself upon my bed and tried to sleep, but the mellow twilight poured through my window and reproached me with the base attempt. i was not restless, but i could not sleep; lest, however, the reader should find himself of a different humour, i will consider myself asleep the first night in st. petersburgh. chapter vi. police requisites.--the russian capital.--equestrian statue of peter the great.--the alexandrine column.--architectural wonders.--the summer islands.--a perilous achievement.--origin of st. petersburgh.--tombs of dead monarchs.--origin of the russian navy. july fourth. i had intended to pass this day at moscow, and to commemorate it in napoleon style by issuing a bulletin from the kremlin, but it was a long time since i had heard from home. at constantinople i had written to paris, directing my letters to be sent to petersburgh, and, notwithstanding my late hours the night before, i was at the postoffice before the door was open. i had never been so long without hearing from home, and my lips quivered when i asked for letters, my hand shook when i received them, and i hardly drew breath until i had finished the last postscript. my next business was at the bureau of general police for a _carte de sejour_, without which no stranger can remain in st. petersburgh. as usual, i was questioned as to my reasons for coming into russia; age, time of sojourn, destination, &c.; and, satisfied that i had no intention of preaching democratic doctrines or subverting the government of the autocrat, i received permission to remain two weeks, which, according to direction, i gave to my landlord to be entered at the police-office of his district. as no stranger can stay in petersburgh without permission, neither can he leave without it; and, to obtain this, he must advertise three times in the government gazette, stating his name, address, and intention of leaving the empire; and as the gazette is only published twice a week, this formality occupies eight days. one of the objects of this is to apprize his creditors, and give them an opportunity of securing their debts; and few things show the barbarity and imperfect civilization of the russians more clearly than this; making it utterly impossible for a gentleman to spend a winter in st. petersburgh and go away without paying his landlord. this must prevent many a soaring spirit from wending its way hither, and keep the residents from being enlivened by the flight of those birds of passage which dazzle the eyes of the denizens of other cities. as there was no other way of getting out of the dominions of the czar, i caused my name and intention to be advertised. it did not create much of a sensation; and though it was proclaimed in three different languages, no one except my landlord seemed to feel any interest in it. after all, to get in debt is the true way to make friends; a man's creditors always feel an interest in him; hope no misfortune may happen to him, and always wish him prosperity and success. these formalities over, i turned to other things. different from every other principal city i had visited, st. petersburgh had no storied associations to interest the traveller. there is no colosseum, as at rome; no acropolis, as at athens; no rialto, as at venice; and no kremlin, as at moscow; nothing identified with the men and scenes hallowed in our eyes, and nothing that can touch the heart. it depends entirely upon itself for the interest it creates in the mind of the traveller. st. petersburgh is situated at the mouth of the neva, at the eastern extremity of the gulf of finland. it is built partly on islands formed by the neva, and partly on both sides of that river. but little more than a century ago, the ground now covered with stately palaces consisted of wild morasses and primeval forests, and a few huts tenanted by savage natives, who lived upon the fish of the sea. in seventeen hundred and three peter the great appeared as a captain of grenadiers under the orders of one of his own generals, on the wild and dreary banks of the neva, drove the swedes from their fortress at its mouth, cut down the forests on the rude islands of the river, and laid the foundations of a city which now surpasses in architectural magnificence every other in the world. i do not believe that rome, when adrian reared the mighty colosseum, and the palace of the cæsars covered the capitoline hill, exhibited such a range of noble structures as now exists in the admiralty quarter. the admiralty itself is the central point, on one side fronting the neva, and on the other a large open square, and has a façade of marble, with ranges of columns, a quarter of a mile in length. a beautiful golden spire shoots up from the centre, towering above every other object, and seen from every part of the city glittering in the sun; and three principal streets, each two miles in length, radiate from this point. in front is a range of boulevards, ornamented with trees, and an open square, at one extremity of which stands the great church of st. isaac, of marble, jasper, and porphyry, upon a foundation of granite; it has been once destroyed, and reared again with increased splendour, enormous columns of a single block of red granite already lifting their capitals in the air. on the right of the façade, and near the isaac bridge, itself a magnificent structure, a thousand and fifty feet long and sixty feet wide, with two drawbridges, stands the well-known equestrian statue of peter the great. the huge block of granite forming the pedestal is fifteen hundred tons in weight. the height of the figure of the emperor is eleven feet, that of the horse seventeen feet, and the weight of the metal in the group nearly thirty-seven thousand pounds. both the idea and the execution of this superb monument are regarded as masterpieces of genius. to immortalize the enterprise and personal courage with which that extraordinary man conquered all difficulties and converted a few fishermen's huts into palaces, peter is represented on a fiery steed, rushing up a steep and precipitous rock to the very brink of a precipice; the horse rears with his fore feet in the air, and seems to be impatient of restraint, while the imperial rider, in an attitude of triumph, extends the hand of protection over his capital rising out of the waters. to aid the inspiration of the artist, a russian officer, the boldest rider of his time, daily rode the wildest arabian of count orloff's stud to the summit of a steep mound, where he halted him suddenly, with his forelegs raised pawing the air over the brink of the precipice. the monument is surrounded by an iron railing, and the pedestal bears the simple inscription, petro primo, catharina secunda, mdcclxxxii. on the other side of the square, and in front of the winter palace, raised within the last two years, and the most gigantic work of modern days, rivalling those magnificent monuments in the old world whose ruins now startle the wondering traveller, and towering to the heavens, as if to proclaim that the days of architectural greatness are not gone by for ever, is the great alexandrine column, a single shaft of red granite, exclusive of pedestal and capital, eighty-four feet high. on the summit stands an angel holding a cross with the left hand, and pointing to heaven with the right. the pedestal contains the simple inscription, "to alexander i. grateful russia." [illustration: column of alexander i.] surrounding this is a crescent of lofty buildings, denominated the etat major, its central portion having before it a majestic colonnade of the corinthian order, placed on a high rustic basement, with a balustrade of solid bronze gilt between the columns. in the middle is a triumphal arch, which, with its frieze, reaches nearly to the upper part of the lofty building, having a span of seventy feet, the entablature sculptured with military trophies, allegorical figures, and groups in alto relievo. next on a line with the admiralty, and fronting the quay, stands the first of a long range of imperial palaces, extending in the form of a crescent for more than a mile along the neva. the winter palace is a gigantic and princely structure, built of marble, with a façade of seven hundred and forty feet. next are the two palaces of the hermitage, connected with it and with each other by covered galleries on bold arches; the beautiful and tasteful fronts of these palaces are strangely in contrast with their simple and unpretending name. next is the stately grecian theatre of the hermitage. beyond this are the barracks of the guards, then the palace of the french ambassador, then the marble palace built by catharine ii. for her favourite, prince orloff, with a basement of granite and superstructure of bluish marble, ornamented with marble columns and pillars. in this palace died stanislaus poniatowsky, the last of the polish sovereigns. this magnificent range, presenting an uninterrupted front of marble palaces upward of a mile in length, unequalled in any city in the world, is terminated by an open square, in which stands a colossal statue of suwarrow; beyond this, still on the neva, is the beautiful summer garden fronting the palace of paul ii.; and near it, and at the upper end of the square, is the palace of the grand-duke michael. opposite is the citadel, with its low bastions of solid granite, washed all around by the neva; beautiful in its structure, and beautifully decorated by the tall, slender, and richly gilded spire of its church. on the one side of the admiralty is the senatorial palace, and beyond opens the english quay, with a range of buildings that might well be called the residence of "merchant princes;" while the opposite bank is crowded with public buildings, among which the most conspicuous are the palace of the academy of the fine arts; the obelisk, rising in the centre of a wide square, recording the glory of some long-named russian hero; the building of the naval cadet corps, with its handsome front, and the barracks of the guard of finland; finally, the great pile of palace-like buildings belonging to the military cadet corps, reaching nearly to the palace of the academy of sciences, and terminating with the magnificent grecian front of the exchange. i know that a verbal description can give but a faint idea of the character of this scene, nor would it help the understanding of it to say that it exhibits all that wealth and architectural skill can do, for few in our country know what even these powerful engines can effect; as for myself, hardly noting the details, it was my greatest delight to walk daily to the bridge across the neva, at the summer gardens, the view from which more than realized all the crude and imperfect notions of architectural magnificence that had ever floated through my mind; a result that i had never found in any other city i had yet seen, not excepting venice the rich or genoa the proud, although the latter is designated in guide-books the city of palaces. next to the palaces in solidity and beauty of structure are the bridges crossing the neva, and the magnificent quays along its course, these last being embankments of solid granite, lining the stream on either side the whole length of its winding course through the city. i was always at a loss whether to ride or walk in st. petersburgh; sometimes i mounted a drosky and rode up and down the newski perspective, merely for the sake of rolling over the wooden pavement. this street is perhaps more than twice as wide as broadway; the gutter is in the middle, and on each side are wooden pavements wide enough for vehicles to pass each other freely. the experiment of wooden pavements was first made in this street, and found to answer so well that it has since been introduced into many others; and as the frost is more severe than with us, and it has stood the test of a russian winter, if rightly constructed it will, no doubt, prove equally successful in our own city. the road is first covered with broken stone, or macadamized; then logs are laid across it, the interstices being filled up with sand and stone, and upon this are placed hexagonal blocks of pine about eighteen inches long, fitted like joiner's work, fastened with long pegs, and covered with a preparation of melted lead. when i left paris i had no expectation of travelling in russia, and, consequently, had no letter of introduction to mr. wilkins, our minister; but, long before reaching st. petersburgh, i had made it a rule, immediately on my arrival in a strange place, to call upon our representative, whatever he might be, from a minister plenipotentiary down to a little greek consul. i did so here, and was probably as well received upon my own introduction as if i had been recommended by letter; for i got from mr. wilkins the invitation to dinner usually consequent upon a letter, and besides much interesting information from home, and, more than all, a budget of new-york newspapers. it was a long time since i had seen a new-york paper, and i hailed all the well-known names, informed myself of every house to let, every vessel to sail, all the cotton in market, and a new kind of shaving-soap for sale at hart's bazar; read with particular interest the sales of real estate by james bleecker and sons; wondered at the rapid increase of the city in creating a demand for building lots in one hundred and twenty-seventh street, and reflected that some of my old friends had probably grown so rich that they would not recognise me on my return. having made arrangements for the afternoon to visit the summer islands, i dined with my friend the colonel, in company with prince ---- (i have his name in my pocketbook, written by himself, and could give a facsimile of it, but i could not spell it). the prince was about forty-five, a high-toned gentleman, a nobleman in his feelings, and courtly in his manners, though, for a prince, rather out at elbows in fortune. the colonel and he had been fellow-soldiers, had served in the guards during the whole of the french invasion, and entered paris with the allied armies as officers in the same regiment. like most of the russian seigneurs, they had run through their fortunes in their military career. the colonel, however, had been set up again by an inheritance from a deceased relative, but the prince remained ruined. he was now living upon a fragment saved from the wreck of his estate, a pension for his military services, and the bitter experience acquired by a course of youthful extravagance. like many of the reduced russian seigneurs, he was disaffected toward the government, and liberal in politics; he was a warm admirer of liberal institutions, had speculated upon and studied them both in france and america, and analyzed understandingly the spirit of liberty as developed by the american and french revolutions; when he talked of washington, he folded his hands and looked up to heaven, as if utterly unable to express the fulness of his emotions. with us, the story of our revolution is a hackneyed theme, and even the sacred name of washington has become almost commonplace; but the freshness of feeling with which the prince spoke of him invested him in my eyes with a new and holy character. after dinner, and while on our way to the summer islands, we stopped at his apartments, when he showed me the picture of washington conspicuous on the wall; under it, by way of contrast, was that of napoleon; and he summed up the characters of both in few words, by saying that the one was all for himself, the other all for his country. the summer islands on sundays and fête days are the great promenade of the residents of the capital, and the approach to them is either by land or water. we preferred the latter, and at the admiralty took a boat on the neva. all along the quay are flights of steps cut in the granite, and descending to a granite platform, where boats are constantly in attendance for passengers. these boats are fantastically painted, and have the stern raised some three or four feet; sometimes they are covered with an awning. the oar is of disproportionate thickness toward the handle, the blade very broad, always feathered in rowing, and the boatman, in his calico or linen shirt and pantaloons, his long yellowish beard and mustaches, looks like anything but the gondolier of venice. in passing down the neva i noticed, about half way between low-water mark and the top of the quay, a ring which serves to fasten vessels, and is the mark, to which if the water rises, an inundation may be expected. the police are always on the watch, and the fearful moment is announced by the firing of cannon, by the display of white flags from the admiralty steeple by day, and by lanterns and the tolling of the bells at night. in the last dreadful inundation of eighteen hundred and twenty-four, bridges were swept away, boats floated in some parts of the town above the tops of the houses, and many villages were entirely destroyed. at cronstadt, a vessel of one hundred tons was left in the middle of one of the principal streets; eight thousand dead bodies were found and buried, and probably many thousands more were hurried on to the waters of the gulf of finland. it was a fête day in honour of some church festival, and a great portion of the population of st. petersburgh was bending its way toward the summer islands. the emperor and empress were expected to honour the promenade with their presence, and all along the quay boats were shooting out loaded with gay parties, and, as they approached the islands, they formed into a fleet, almost covering the surface of the river. we were obliged to wait till perhaps a dozen boats had discharged their passengers before we could land. these islands are formed by the branches of the neva, at about three versts from st. petersburgh. they are beautifully laid out in grass and gravel-walks, ornamented with trees, lakes, shrubs, and flowers, connected together by light and elegant bridges, and adorned with beautiful little summer-houses. these summer-houses are perfectly captivating; light and airy in their construction, and completely buried among the trees. as we walked along we heard music or gentle voices, and now and then came upon a charming cottage, with a beautiful lawn or garden, just enough exposed to let the passer-by imagine what he pleased; and on the lawn was a light fanciful tent, or an arbour hung with foliage, under which the occupants, with perhaps a party of friends from the city, were taking tea, and groups of rosy children were romping around them, while thousands were passing by and looking on, with as perfect an appearance of domestic _abandon_ as if in the privacy of the fireside. i have sometimes reproached myself that my humour changed with every passing scene; but, inasmuch as it generally tended toward at least a momentary satisfaction, i did not seek to check it; and though, from habit and education, i would have shrunk from such a family exhibition, here it was perfectly delightful. it seemed like going back to a simpler and purer age. the gay and smiling faces seemed to indicate happy hearts; and when i saw a mother playing on the green with a little cherub daughter, i felt how i hung upon the community, a loose and disjointed member, and would fain have added myself to some cheerful family group. a little farther on, however, i saw a papa flogging a chubby urchin, who drowned with his bellowing the music from a neighbouring arbour, which somewhat broke the charm of this public exhibition of scenes of domestic life. besides these little retiring-places or summer residences of citizens, restaurants and houses of refreshments were distributed in great abundance, and numerous groups were sitting under the shade of trees or arbours, taking ices or refreshments; and the grounds for promenade were so large and beautifully disposed, that, although thousands were walking through them, there was no crowd, except before the door of a principal refectory, where a rope-dancer was flourishing in the air among the tops of the trees. in addition to the many enchanting retreats and summer residences created by the taste, luxury, and wealth of private individuals, there are summer theatres and imperial villas. but the gem of the islands is the little imperial palace at cammenoi. i have walked through royal palaces, and admired their state and magnificence without one wish to possess them, but i felt a strong yearning toward this imperial villa. it is not so grand and stately as to freeze and chill one, but a thing of extraordinary simplicity and elegance, in a beautifully picturesque situation, heightened by a charming disposition of lawn and trees, so elegant, and, if i may add such an unpoetical word in the description of this imperial residence, so comfortable, that i told the prince if i were a rasselas escaped from the happy valley, i would look no farther for a resting-place. the prince replied that in the good old days of russian barbarism, when a queen swayed the sceptre, russia had been a great field for enterprising and adventurous young men, and in more than one instance a palace had been the reward of a favourite. we gave a sigh to the memory of those good old days, and at eleven o'clock returned to the city on the top of an omnibus. the whole road from the summer islands and the great street leading to the admiralty were lighted with little glass lamps, arranged on the sidewalks about six feet apart, but they almost realized the conceit of illuminating the sun by hanging candles around it, seeming ashamed of their own sickly glare and struggling vainly with the glorious twilight. the next morning the valet who had taken me as his master, and who told others in the house that he could not attend to them, as he was in my service, informed me that a traveller arrived from warsaw the night before had taken apartments in the same hotel, and could give me all necessary information in regard to that route; and, after breakfast, i sent him, with my compliments, to ask the traveller if he would admit me, and shortly after called myself. he was a young man, under thirty, above the middle size, strong and robust of frame, with good features, light complexion, but very much freckled, a head of extraordinary red hair, and a mustache of the same brilliant colour; and he was dressed in a coloured stuff morning-gown, and smoking a pipe with an air of no small dignity and importance. i explained the purpose of my visit, and he gave me as precise information as could possibly be had; and the most gratifying part of the interview was, that before we separated he told me that he intended returning to warsaw in about ten days, and would be happy to have me bear him company. i gladly embraced his offer, and left him, better pleased with the result of my interview than i had expected from his rather unprepossessing appearance. he was a frenchman by descent, born in belgium, and educated and resident in poland, and possessed in a striking degree the compounded amor patriæ incident to the relationship in which he stood to these three countries. but, as i shall be obliged to speak of him frequently hereafter, i will leave him for the present to his morning-gown and pipe. well pleased with having my plans arranged, i went out without any specific object, and found myself on the banks of the neva. directly opposite the winter palace, and one of the most conspicuous objects on the whole line of the neva, is the citadel or old fortress, and, in reality, the foundation of the city. i looked long and intently on the golden spire of its church, shooting toward the sky and glittering in the sun. this spire, which rises tapering till it seems almost to fade away into nothing, is surmounted by a large globe, on which stands an angel supporting a cross. this angel, being made of corruptible stuff, once manifested symptoms of decay, and fears were entertained that he would soon be numbered with the fallen. government became perplexed how to repair it, for to raise a scaffolding to such a height would cost more than the angel was worth. among the crowd which daily assembled to gaze at it from below was a roofer of houses, who, after a long and silent examination, went to the government and offered to repair it without any scaffolding or assistance of any kind. his offer was accepted; and on the day appointed for the attempt, provided with nothing but a coil of cords, he ascended inside to the highest window, and, looking for a moment at the crowd below and at the spire tapering away above him, stood up on the outer ledge of the window. the spire was covered with sheets of gilded copper, which, to beholders from below, presented only a smooth surface of burnished gold; but the sheets were roughly laid, and fastened by large nails, which projected from the sides of the spire. he cut two pieces of cord, and tied loops at each end of both, fastened the upper loops over two projecting nails, and stood with his feet in the lower; then, clinching the fingers of one hand over the rough edges of the sheets of copper, raised himself till he could hitch one of the loops on a higher nail with the other hand; he did the same for the other loop, and so he raised one leg after the other, and at length ascended, nail by nail, and stirrup by stirrup, till he clasped his arms around the spire directly under the ball. here it seemed impossible to go any farther, for the ball was ten or twelve feet in circumference, with a smooth and glittering surface, and no projecting nails, and the angel was above the ball, as completely out of sight as if it were in the habitation of its prototypes. but the daring roofer was not disheartened. raising himself in his stirrups, he encircled the spire with a cord, which he tied round his waist; and, so supported, leaned gradually back until the soles of his feet were braced against the spire, and his body fixed almost horizontally in the air. in this position he threw a cord over the top of the ball, and threw it so coolly and skilfully that at the first attempt it fell down on the other side, just as he wanted it; then he drew himself up to his original position, and, by means of his cord, climbed over the smooth sides of the globe, and in a few moments, amid thunders of applause from the crowd below, which at that great height sounded only like a faint murmur, he stood by the side of the angel. after attaching a cord to it he descended, and the next day carried up with him a ladder of ropes, and effected the necessary repairs. but to return. with my eyes fixed upon the spire, i crossed the bridge and entered the gate of the fortress. it is built on a small island, fortified by five bastions, which, on the land side, are mere ramparts connected with st. petersburgh quarter by drawbridges, and on the river side it is surrounded by walls cased with granite, in the centre of which is a large gate or sallyport. as a fortress, it is now useless; but it is a striking object of embellishment to the river, and an interesting monument in the history of the city. peter himself selected this spot for his citadel and the foundation of his city. at that time it contained two fishing-huts in ruins, the only original habitations on the island. it was necessary to cut down the trees, and elevate the surface of the island with dirt and stone brought from other places before he commenced building the fortress; and the labour of the work was immense, no less than forty thousand workmen being employed at one time. soldiers, swedish prisoners, ingrians, carelians, and cossacks, tartars and calmucs, were brought from their distant solitudes to lay the foundation of the imperial city, labouring entirely destitute of all the comforts of life, sleeping on the damp ground and in the open air, often without being able, in that wilderness, to procure their daily meal; and, moreover, without pickaxes, spades, or other instruments of labour, and using only their bare hands for digging; but, in spite of all this, the work advanced with amazing rapidity, and in four months the fortress was completed. the principal objects of interest it now contains are the imperial mint and the cathedral of st. peter and st. paul. brought up in a community where "making money" is the great business of life, i ought, perhaps, to have entered the former, but i turned away from the ingots of gold and silver, and entered the old church, the burial-place of peter the great, and nearly all the czars and czarinas, emperors and empresses, since his time. around the walls were arranged flags and banners, trophies taken in war, principally from the turks, waving mournfully over the tombs of the dead. a sombre light broke through the lofty windows, and i moved directly to the tomb of peter. it is near the great altar, of plain marble, in the shape of a square coffin, without any ornament but a gold plate, on one end of which are engraved his name and title; and at the moment of my entrance an old russian was dusting it with a brush. it was with a mingled feeling of veneration and awe that i stood by the tomb of peter. i had always felt a profound admiration for this extraordinary man, one of those prodigies of nature which appear on the earth only once in many centuries; a combination of greatness and cruelty, the sternness of whose temper spared neither age nor sex, nor the dearest ties of kindred; whose single mind changed the face of an immense empire and the character of millions, and yet who often remarked with bitter compunction, "i can reform my people, but i cannot reform myself." by his side lies the body of his wife, catharine i., the beautiful livonian, the daughter of a peasant girl, and the wife of a common soldier, who, by a wonderful train of events, was raised to wield the sceptre of a gigantic empire. her fascination soothed the savage peter in his moodiest hours. she was the mediatrix between the stern monarch and his subjects; mercy was ever on her lips, and one who knew her well writes what might be inscribed in letters of gold upon her tomb: "she was a pretty, well-looked woman, but not of that sublimity of wit, or, rather, that quickness of imagination which some people have supposed. the great reason why the czar was so fond of her was her exceeding good temper; she never was seen peevish or out of humour; obliging and civil to all, and never forgetful of her former condition, and withal mighty grateful." near their imperial parents lie the bodies of their two daughters, anne of holstein and the empress elizabeth. peter, on his deathbed, in an interval of delirium, called to him his daughter anne, as it was supposed, with the intention of settling upon her the crown, but suddenly relapsed into insensibility; and anne, brought up in the expectation of two crowns, died in exile, leaving one son, the unfortunate peter iii. elizabeth died on the throne, a motley character of goodness, indolence, and voluptuousness, and extremely admired for her great personal attractions. she was never married, but, as she frequently owned to her confidants, never happy but when in love. she was so tender of heart that she made a vow to inflict no capital punishment during her reign; shed tears upon the news of every victory gained by her troops, from the reflection that it could not have been gained without bloodshed, and would never give her consent for the execution of a felon, however deserving; and yet she condemned two noble ladies, one of them the most beautiful woman in russia, to receive fifty strokes of the knout in the open square of st. petersburgh. i strolled for a few moments among the other imperial sepulchres, and returned to the tombs of peter's family. separate monuments are erected over their bodies, all in the shape of large oblong tombstones, ornamented with gold, and enclosed by high iron railings. as i leaned against the railing of peter's tomb, i missed one member of his imperial family. it was an awful chasm. where was his firstborn child and only son? the presumptive heir of his throne and empire? early the object of his unnatural prejudice, excluded from the throne, imprisoned, tortured, tried, condemned, sentenced to death by the stern decree of his offended father! the ill-starred alexius lies in the vaults of the church, in the imperial sepulchre, but without any tomb or inscription to perpetuate the recollection of his unhappy existence. and there is something awful in the juxtaposition of the dead; he lies by the side of his unhappy consort, the amiable princess charlotte, who died the victim of his brutal neglect; so subdued by affliction that, in a most affecting farewell to peter, unwilling to disturb the tranquillity of her last hour, she never mentioned his name, and welcomed death as a release from her sufferings. leaving the church, i went to a detached building within the fortress, where is preserved, in a separate building, a four-oared boat, as a memorial of the origin of the russian navy. its history is interesting. about the year peter saw this boat at a village near moscow; and inquiring the cause of its being built differently from those he was in the habit of seeing, learned that it was contrived to go against the wind. under the direction of brandt, the dutch shipwright who built it, he acquired the art of managing it. he afterward had a large pleasure-yacht constructed after the same model, and from this beginning went on till he surprised all europe by a large fleet on the baltic and the black sea. twenty years afterward he had it brought up from moscow, and gave a grand public entertainment, which he called the consecration of the "little grandsire." the fleet, consisting of twenty-seven men-of-war, was arranged at cronstadt in the shape of a half moon. peter embarked in the little grandsire, himself steering, and three admirals and prince mendzikoff rowing, and made a circuit in the gulf, passing by the fleet, the ships striking their flags and saluting it with their guns, while the little grandsire returned each salute by a discharge of three small pieces. it was then towed up to st. petersburgh, where its arrival was celebrated by a masquerade upon the waters, and, peter again steering, the boat proceeded to the fortress, and under a discharge of all the artillery it was deposited where it now lies. returning, i took a bath in the neva. in bathing, as in everything else, the russians profit by the short breath of summer, and large public bathing-houses are stationed at intervals along the quay of the river, besides several smaller ones, tasteful and ornamental in appearance, being the private property of rich seigneurs. i went into one of the former, where a swimming-master was teaching a school of boys the art of swimming. the water of the neva was the first thing i had found regularly russian, that is, excessively cold; and though i bathed in it several times afterward, i always found it the same. at five o'clock i went to dine with mr. wilkins. he had broken up his establishment and taken apartments at the house of an english lady, where he lived much in the same style as at home. he had been at st. petersburgh but a short time, and, i believe, was not particularly well pleased with it, and was then making arrangements to return. i had never met with mr. wilkins in our own country, and i consider myself under obligations to him; for, not bringing him any letter, i stood an entire stranger in st. petersburgh, with nothing but my passport to show that i was an american citizen, and he might have even avoided the dinner, or have given me the dinner and troubled himself no more about me. but the politeness which he had shown me as a stranger increased to kindness; and i was in the habit of calling upon him at all times, and certainly without any expectation of ever putting him in print. we had at table a parti quarré, consisting of mr. wilkins, mr. gibson, who has been our consul, i believe, for twenty years, if, he being still a bachelor, it be not unfriendly to carry him back so far, and mr. clay, the secretary of legation, who had been twice left as chargé d'affaires at the imperial court, and was then lately married to an english lady in st. petersburgh. after dinner, three or four american merchants came in; and at eleven o'clock, having made an appointment to go with mr. wilkins and see a boatrace on the neva, mr. clay and i walked home along the quay, under that enchanting twilight which i have already so often thrust upon the reader, and which i only regret that i cannot make him realize and enjoy. chapter vii. a new friend.--the winter palace.--importance of a hat.--an artificial mine.--remains of a huge monster.--peter the great's workshop.--the greek religion.--tomb of a hero.--a saint militant.--another love affair.--the hermitage.--the winter and summer gardens. early in the morning, while at breakfast, i heard a loud knock at my door, which was opened without waiting for an answer, and in stalked a tall, stout, dashing-looking young man, with a blue frock, white pantaloons, and a vest of many colours, a heavy gold chain around his neck, an enormous indian cane in his hand, and a broad-brimmed hat brought down on one side, over his right eye in particular. he had a terrible scowl on his face, which seemed to be put on to sustain the dignity of his amazing costume, and he bowed on his entrance with as much _hauteur_ as if he meant to turn me out of my own room. i stared at him in unfeigned astonishment, when, putting his cane under his arm, and pulling off his hat, his intensely red head broke upon me with a blaze of beauty, and i recognised my friend and intended fellow-traveller, the french belgian pole, whom i had seen in an old morning-gown and slippers. i saw through my man at once; and speedily knocking in the head his overwhelming formality, came upon him with the old college salutation, asking him to pull off his clothes and stay a week; and he complied almost literally, for in less than ten minutes he had off his coat and waistcoat, cravat and boots, and was kicking up his heels on my bed. i soon discovered that he was a capital fellow, a great beau in his little town on the frontiers of poland, and one of a class by no means uncommon, that of the very ugly men who imagine themselves very handsome. while he was kicking his heels over the footboard, he asked me what we thought of red hair in america; and i told him that i could not undertake to speak the public voice, but that, for myself, i did not admire it as much as some people did, though, as to his, there was something striking about it, which was strictly true, for it was such an enormous mop that, as his head lay on the pillow, it looked like a bust set in a large red frame. all the time he held in his hand a pocket looking-glass and a small brush, with which he kept brushing his mustaches, giving them a peculiar twirl toward the ears. i told him that he was wrong about the mustache; and, taking the brush, brought them out of their twist, and gave them an inclination à la turque, recommending my own as a model; but he soon got them back to their place, and, rising, shook his gory locks and began to dress himself, or, as he said, to put himself in parchment for a walk. my new friend was for no small game, and proposed visiting some of the palaces. on the way he confided to me a conquest he had already made since his arrival; a beautiful young lady, of course, the daughter of an italian music-master, who resided directly opposite our hotel. he said he had applied for an apartment next to mine, which commanded a view of the window at which she sat, and asked me, as a friend, whether it would be interfering with me. having received my assurance that i had no intentions in that quarter, he said he would order his effects to be removed the same day. by this time we had arrived at the winter palace, presenting, as i have before remarked, a marble front on the neva of more than seven hundred feet, or as long as the side of washington square, and larger and more imposing than that of the tuileries or any other royal palace in europe. we approached the large door of entrance to this stately pile, and, notwithstanding my modest application, backed by my companion's dashing exterior, we were turned away by the imperial footman because we had not on dresscoats. we went home and soon returned equipped as the law of etiquette requires, and were admitted to the imperial residence. we ascended the principal story by the great marble staircase, remarkable for its magnificence and the grandeur of its architecture. there are nearly a hundred principal rooms on the first floor, occupying an area of four hundred thousand square feet, and forming almost a labyrinth of splendour. the great banqueting-hall is one hundred and eighty-nine feet by one hundred and ten, incrusted with the finest marble, with a row of columns at each end, and the side decorated with attached columns, rich gilding, and splendid mirrors. the great hall of st. george is one of the richest and most superb rooms on the continent, not excepting the pride of the tuileries or versailles. it is a parallelogram of one hundred and forty feet by sixty, decorated with forty fluted corinthian columns of porphyritic marble, with capitals and bases of bronze richly gilded, and supporting a gallery with a gilded bronze balustrade of exquisite workmanship. at one end, on a platform, is the throne, approached by a flight of eight steps, covered with the richest genoa velvet, embroidered with gold, with the double-headed eagle expanding his wings above it. the large windows on both sides are hung with the richest drapery, and the room is embellished by magnificent mirrors and colossal candelabra profusely gilded. we passed on to the _salle blanche_, which is nearly of the same dimensions, and beautifully chaste in design and finish. its elevation is greater, and the sides are decorated with pilasters, columns, and bas-reliefs of a soft white tint, without the least admixture of gaudy colours. the space between the hall of st. george and the _salle blanche_ is occupied as a gallery of national portraits, where the russians who distinguished themselves during the french invasion are exhibited in half-length portraits as rewards for their military services. the three field-marshals, kutuzow, barclay de tolly, and the duke of wellington, are represented at full length. the symbol which accompanies the hero of waterloo is that of imperishable strength, the british oak, "the triumpher of many storms." i will not carry the reader through all the magnificent apartments, but i cannot help mentioning the diamond room, containing the crowns and jewels of the imperial family. diamonds, rubies, and emeralds are arranged round the room in small cases, of such dazzling beauty that it is almost bewildering to look at them. i had already acquired almost a passion for gazing at precious stones. at constantinople i had wandered through the bazars, under the guidance of a jew, and seen all the diamonds collected and for sale in the capital of the east, but i was astonished at the brilliancy of this little chamber, and, in my strongly-awakened admiration, looked upon the miser who, before the degrading days of bonds and mortgages, converted his wealth into jewels and precious stones, as a man of elegant and refined taste. the crown of the emperor is adorned with a chaplet of oak-leaves made of diamonds of an extraordinary size, and the imperial sceptre contains one supposed to be the largest in the world, being the celebrated stone purchased by the empress catharine ii. from a greek slave for four hundred and fifty thousand rubles and a large pension for life. eighty thousand persons were employed in the construction of this palace; upward of two thousand habitually reside in it, and even a larger number when the emperor is in st. petersburgh. the imperial flag was then floating from the top of the palace, as an indication to his subjects of his majesty's presence in the capital; and about the time that his majesty sat down to his royal dinner we were working upon a cotelette de mouton, and drinking in vin ordinaire health and long life to nicolas the first; and afterward, in talking of the splendour of the imperial palace and the courtesy of the imperial footmen, we added health and long life to the lady autocrat and all the little autocrats.[ ] after dinner we took our coffee at the café chinois, on the newski perspective, equal, if not superior, in style and decoration to anything in paris. even the rules of etiquette in france are not orthodox all over the world. in paris it is not necessary to take off the hat on entering a café or restaurant, and in the south of france a frenchman will sit down to dinner next a lady with his head covered; but in russia, even on entering an apartment where there are only gentlemen, it is necessary to uncover the head. i neglected this rule from ignorance and want of attention, and was treated with rudeness by the proprietor, and afterward learned the cause, with the suggestion that it was fortunate that i had not been insulted. this is a small matter, but a man's character in a strange place is often affected by a trifling circumstance; and americans, at least i know it to be the case with myself, are, perhaps, too much in the habit of neglecting the minor rules of etiquette. that night my new friend had his effects removed to a room adjoining mine, and the next morning i found him sitting in his window with a book in his hand, watching the young lady opposite. he was so pleased with his occupation that i could not get him away, and went off without him. mr. wilkins having offered to accompany me to some of the public institutions, i called for him; and, finding him disengaged, we took a boat on the neva, and went first to the academy of arts, standing conspicuously on the right bank opposite the english quay, and, perhaps, the chastest and most classical structure in st. petersburgh. in the court are two noble egyptian sphynxes. a magnificent staircase, with a double flight of granite steps, leads to a grand landing-place with broad galleries around it, supporting, by means of ionic columns, the cupola, which crowns the whole. the rotunda is a fine apartment of exquisite proportions, decorated with statues and busts; and at the upper end of the conference-room stands a large table, at the head of which is a full-length portrait of nicolas under a rich canopy. in one room are a collection of models from the antique, and another of the paintings of native artists, some of which are considered as indicating extraordinary talent. from hence we went to the _hotel des mines_, where the name of the american minister procured us admission without the usual permit. the _hotel des mines_ was instituted by the great peter for the purpose of training a mining engineer corps, to explore scientifically the vast mineral resources of the empire, and also engineers for the army. like all the other public edifices, the building is grand and imposing, and the arrangement of the different rooms and galleries is admirable. in one room is a large collection of medals, and in another of coins. besides specimens of general mineralogy of extraordinary beauty, there are native iron from the lake olonetz, silver ore from tobolsk and gold sand from the oural mountains; and in iron-bound cases, beautifully ornamented, there is a rich collection of native gold, found either in the mines belonging to government or in those of individuals, one piece of which was discovered at the depth of three and a half feet in the sand, weighing more than twenty-four pounds. the largest piece of platinum in existence, from the mines of demidoff, weighing ten pounds, is here also; and, above all, a colossal specimen of amalachite weighing three thousand four hundred and fifty-six pounds, and, at the common average price of this combination of copper and carbonic acid, worth three thousand seven hundred and fifty pounds sterling. but the most curious part of this valuable repository is under ground, being a model of a mine in siberia. furnished with lighted tapers, we followed our guides through winding passages cut into the bowels of the earth, the sides of which represented, by the aggregation of real specimens, the various stratifications, with all the different ores, and minerals, and different species of earth, as they were found in the natural state; the coal formation, veins of copper, and in one place of gold, being particularly well represented, forming an admirable practical school for the study of geology, though under a chillness of atmosphere which would be likely very soon to put an end to studies of all kinds. from here we passed to the imperial academy of sciences, by far the most interesting part of our day's visiting. this, too, was founded by the great peter. i hardly know why, but i had already acquired a warm admiration for the stout old czar. there was nothing high or chivalric about him, but every step in russia, from the black sea to the baltic, showed me what he had done to advance the condition of his people. i knew all this as matter of history, but here i felt it as fact. we strolled through the mineralogical and zoological repositories, and stopped before the skeleton of that stupendous inhabitant of a former world, denominated the mammoth, whose fame had been carried over the waste of waters even to our distant country, and beside which even the skeletons of elephants looked insignificant. what was he? where did he live, and is his race extinct? it gave rise to a long train of interesting speculation, to endow him with life, and see him striding with gigantic steps, the living tenant of a former world; and more interesting still to question, as others had done, whether he was not, after all, one of a race of animals not yet extinct, and perhaps wandering even now within a short distance of the polar sea. there is also in this part of the museum a collection of anatomical specimens and of human monsters; an unpleasing exhibition, though, no doubt, useful to medical science; among them was a child with two heads from america. more interesting to me was a large collection of insects, of medals, and particularly of the different objects in gold found in the tumuli of siberia, consisting of bracelets, vases, crowns, bucklers, rings, sabres with golden hilts, tartar idols, &c., many of them of great value and of very elegant workmanship, which have given rise to much interesting speculation in regard to the character of the people who formerly inhabited that country. the asiatic museum contains a library of chinese, japanese, mongolese, and tibetan books and manuscripts; mohammedan, chinese, and japanese coins; an interesting assemblage of mongolese idols cut in bronze and gilded, and illustrating the religion of buddha. there is also an egyptian museum, containing about a thousand articles. the cabinet of curiosities contains figures of all the different people conquered under the government of russia, habited in their national costumes; also of chinese, persians, aleutans, carelians, and the inhabitants of many of the eastern, pacific, or northern islands discovered or visited by russian travellers and navigators, as well as of the different nations inhabiting siberia. but by far the most interesting part of the museum is the cabinet of peter himself, consisting of a suite of apartments, in which the old czar was in the habit of passing his leisure hours engaged in some mechanical employment. in one room are several brass cylinders turned by his own hands, and covered with battle-scenes of his own engraving. also an iron bar forged by him; bas-reliefs executed in copper, representing his desperate battles in livonia; an ivory chandelier of curious and highly-wrought workmanship, and a group in ivory representing abraham offering up his son isaac, the ram and the angel gabriel cut out entire. in another room is his workshop, containing a variety of vessels and models etched in copper, and a copperplate with an unfinished battle-scene. his tools and implements are strewed about the room precisely in the state in which he left them the last time he was there. in another chamber were the distended skin of his french body-servant, seven feet high; the arabian horse which he rode at the bloody battle of pultowa, and the two favourite dogs which always accompanied him; and in another the figure of the old czar himself in wax, as large as life; the features, beyond doubt, bearing the exact resemblance to the original, being taken from a cast applied to his face when dead, and shaded in imitation of his real complexion. the eyebrows and hair are black, the eyes dark, the complexion swarthy, and aspect stern. this figure is surrounded by the portraits of his predecessors, in their barbarian costumes, himself seated in an armchair in the same splendid dress which he wore when with his own hands he placed the imperial crown on the head of his beloved catharine. here, also, are his uniform of the guards, gorget, scarf, and sword, and hat shot through at the battle of pultowa; and the last thing which the guide put into my hands was a long stick measuring his exact height, and showing him literally a great man, being six russian feet. i must not forget a pair of shoes made by his own hands; but the old czar was no shoemaker. nevertheless, these memorials were all deeply interesting; and though i had seen the fruits of his labours from the black sea to the baltic, i never felt such a strong personal attraction to him as i did here. i was obliged to decline dining with mr. wilkins in consequence of an engagement with my friend the pole; and, returning, i found him at the window with a book in his hand, precisely in the same position in which i had left him. after dinner a servant came in and delivered a message, and he proposed a walk on the admiralty boulevards. it was the fashionable hour for promenade, and, after a turn or two, he discovered his fair enslaver, accompanied by her father and several ladies and gentlemen, one of whom seemed particularly devoted to her. she was a pretty little girl, and seemed to me a mere child, certainly not more than fifteen. his admiration had commenced on the boulevards the first afternoon of his arrival, and had increased violently during the whole day, while he was sitting at the window. he paraded me up and down the walk once or twice, and, when they had seated themselves on a bench, took a seat opposite. he was sure she was pleased with his admiration, but i could not see that her look indicated any very flattering acknowledgment. in fact, i could but remark that the eyes of the gentlemen were turned toward us quite as often as those of the lady, and suggested that, if he persisted, he would involve us in some difficulty with them; but he said there could not be any difficulty about it, for, if he offended them, he would give them satisfaction. as this view of the case did not hit my humour, i told him that, as i had come out with him, i would remain, but if he made any farther demonstrations, i should leave him, and, at all events, after that he must excuse me from joining his evening promenades. soon after they left the boulevards, and we returned to our hotel, where he entertained me with a history of his love adventures at home, and felicitations upon his good fortune in finding himself already engaged in one here. sunday. until the early part of the tenth century the religion of russia was a gross idolatry. in nine hundred and thirty-five, olga, the widow of igor the son of runic, sailed down the dnieper from kief, was baptized at constantinople, and introduced christianity into russia, though her family and nation adhered for a long time to the idolatry of their fathers. the great schism between the eastern and western churches had already taken place, and the christianity derived from constantinople was of course of the greek persuasion. the greek church believes in the doctrines of the trinity, but differs from the catholic in some refined and subtle distinction in regard to what is called the procession of the holy ghost. it enjoins the invocation of saints as mediators, and permits the use of pictures as a means of inspiring and strengthening devotion. the well-informed understand the use for which they are intended, but these form a very small portion of the community, and probably the great bulk of the people worship the pictures themselves. the clergy are, in general, very poor and very ignorant. the priests are not received at the tables of the upper classes, but they exercise an almost controlling influence over the lower, and they exhibited this influence in rousing the serfs against the french, which may be ascribed partly, perhaps, to feelings of patriotism, and partly to the certainty that napoleon would strip their churches of their treasures, tear down their monasteries, and turn themselves out of doors. but of the population of fifty-five millions, fifteen are divided into roman catholics, armenians, protestants, jews, and mohammedans, and among the caucasians, georgians, circassians, and mongol tribes nearly two millions are pagans or idolaters, brahmins, lamists, and worshippers of the sun. for a people so devout as the russians, the utmost toleration prevails throughout the whole empire, and particularly in st. petersburgh. churches of every denomination stand but a short distance apart on the newski perspective. the russian cathedral is nearly opposite the great catholic chapel; near them is the armenian, then the lutheran, two churches for dissenters, and a mosque for the mohammedans! and on sunday thousands are seen bending their steps to their separate churches, to worship according to the faith handed down to them by their fathers. early in the morning, taking with me a valet and joining the crowd that was already hurrying with devout and serious air along the newski perspective, i entered the cathedral of our lady of cazan, a splendid monument of architecture, and more remarkable as the work of a native artist, with a semicircular colonnade in front, consisting of one hundred and thirty-two corinthian columns thirty-five feet high, somewhat after the style of the great circular colonnade of st. peter's at rome, and surmounted by a dome crowned with a cross of exquisite workmanship, supported on a large gilded ball. within, fifty noble columns, each of one piece of solid granite from finland, forty-eight feet high and four feet in diameter, surmounted by a rich capital of bronze, and resting on a massive bronze base, support an arched roof richly ornamented with flowers in bas-relief. the jewels and decorations of the altar are rich and splendid, the doors leading to the sanctum sanctorum, with the railing in front, being of silver. as in the catholic churches, there are no pews, chairs, or benches, and all over the floor were the praying figures of the russians. around the walls were arranged military trophies, flags, banners, and the keys of fortresses wrested from the enemies of russia; but far more interesting than her columns, and colossal statues, and military trophies, is the tomb of the warrior kutuzow; simple, and remarkable for the appropriate warlike trophy over it, formed of french flags and the eagles of napoleon. admiration for heroism owns no geographical or territorial limits, and i pity the man who could stand by the grave of kutuzow without feeling it a sacred spot. the emperor alexander with his own hands took the most precious jewel from his crown and sent it to the warrior, with a letter announcing to him his elevation to the rank of prince of smolensko; but richer than jewels or principalities is the tribute which his countrymen pay at his tomb. the church of our lady of cazan contains another monument of barbarian patriotism. the celebrated leader of the cossacks during the period of the french invasion, having intercepted a great part of the booty which the french were carrying from moscow, sent it to the metropolitan or head of the church, with a characteristic letter, directing it to be "made into an image of the four evangelists, and adorn the church of the mother of god of cazan." the concluding paragraph is, "hasten to erect in the temple of god this monument of battle and victory; and while you erect it, say with thankfulness to providence, the enemies of russia are no more; the vengeance of god has overtaken them on the soil of russia; and the road they have gone has been strewed with their bones, to the utter confusion of their frantic and proud ambition." (signed) "platoff." from the church of our lady of cazan i went to the protestant church, where i again joined in an orthodox service. the interior of the church is elegant, though externally it can scarcely be distinguished from a private building. the seats are free, the men sitting on one side and the women on the other. mr. law, the clergyman, has been there many years, and is respected and loved by his congregation. after church i walked to the convent of alexander newski, the burial-place of prince alexander, who obtained in the thirteenth century a splendid victory over the allied forces of sweden, denmark, and livonia; afterward became a monk, and for his pure and holy life was canonized, and now ranks among the principal saints in the russian calendar. the warrior was first buried at moscow, but peter the great had his remains transported with great ceremony to this place, a procession of a thousand priests walking barefoot all the way. the monastery stands at the extreme end of the newski perspective, and within its precincts are several churches and a large cemetery. it is the residence of the distinguished prelates of the greek church and a large fraternity of monks. the dress of the monks is a loose black cloak and round black cap, and no one can be admitted a member until the age of thirty. we entered a grand portal, walked up a long avenue, and, crossing a bridge over a stream, worked our way between lines of the carriages of nobles and ladies, and crowds of the people in their best bell-crowned hats; and, amid a throng of miserable beggars, penetrated to the door of the principal church, a large and beautiful specimen of modern corinthian architecture. i remarked the great entrance, the lofty dome, the fresco paintings on the ceilings, and the arabesque decorations on the walls; the altar-piece of white carrara marble, paintings by rubens and vandyck, the holy door in the iconastos, raised on a flight of steps of rich gilded bronze, and surmounted by the representation of a dazzling aureola of different colored metals, and in the centre the initials of that awful name which none in israel save the initiated were permitted to pronounce. i walked around and paused before the tomb of the warrior saint. a sarcophagus or coffin of massive silver, standing on an elevated platform, ornamented in bas-relief, representing scenes of battles with the swedes, contains his relics; a rich ermine lies upon the coffin, and above is a silver canopy. on each side is a warrior clothed in armour, with his helmet, breastplate, shield, and spear also of massive silver. the altar rises thirty feet in height, of solid silver, with groups of military figures and trophies of warriors, also of silver, as large as life; and over it hangs a golden lamp, with a magnificent candelabrum of silver, together with a vessel of curious workmanship holding the bones of several holy men, the whole of extraordinary magnificence and costliness of material, upward of four thousand pounds weight of silver having been used in the construction of the chapel and shrine. the dead sleep the same whether in silver coffins or in the bare earth, but the stately character of the church, dimly lighted, and the splendour and richness of the material, gave a peculiar solemnity to the tomb of the warrior saint. leaving the churches, i strolled through the cloisters of the monastery and entered the great cemetery. there, as in the great cemetery of père la chaise at paris, all that respect, and love, and affection can do to honour the memory of the dead, and all that vanity and folly can do to ridicule it, have been accomplished. there are seen epitaphs of affecting brevity and elaborate amplification; every design, every device, figure, emblem, and decoration; every species of material, from native granite to carrara marble and pure gold. among the simpler tombs of poets, warriors, and statesmen, a monument of the most gigantic proportions is erected to snatch from oblivion the name of a rich russian merchant. the base is a solid cubic block of the most superb marble, on which is a solid pedestal of black marble ten feet square, bearing a sarcophagus fourteen feet high, and of most elegant proportions, surmounted by a gold cross twenty feet in height. at each of the four corners is a colossal candelabrum of cast iron, with entwining serpents of bronze gilded. the ground alone cost a thousand pounds, and the whole monument about twenty thousand dollars. near the centre of this asylum of the dead, a tetrastyle ionic temple of the purest white marble records the virtues of an interesting lady, the countess of potemkin, and alto relievos of the most exquisite execution on three sides of the temple tell the melancholy story of a mother snatched from three lovely children. the countess, prophetically conscious of her approaching fate, is looking up calmly and majestically to the figure of religion, and resting with confidence her left hand on the symbol of christianity. in front are the inscription and arms of the family in solid gold. but what are the russian dead to me? the granite and marble monument of the merchant is a conglomeration of hides, hemp, and tallow; a man may be excused if he linger a moment at the tomb of an interesting woman, a mother cut off in her prime; but melancholy is infectious, and induces drowsiness and closing of the book. in consideration for my valet, at the grand portal i took a drosky, rolled over the wooden pavement of the newski perspective, and, with hardly motion enough to disturb my revery, was set down at the door of my hotel. my pole was waiting to dine with me, and roused me from my dreams of the dead to recount his dreams of the living. all day he had sat at his window, and a few straggling glances from the lady opposite had abundantly rewarded him, and given him great spirits for his evening's promenade on the boulevards. i declined accompanying him, and he went alone, and returned in the evening almost in raptures. we strolled an hour by the twilight, and retired early. it will hardly be believed, but early the next morning he came to my room with a letter on fine pink paper addressed to his fair enslaver. the reader may remember that this was not the first time i had been made a confidant in an affaire du coeur. to be sure, the missionary at smyrna turned out to be crazy; and on this point, at least, my pole was a little touched; nevertheless, i listened to his epistle. it was the regular oldfashioned document, full of hanging, shooting, drowning, and other extravagances. he sealed it with an amatory device, and, calling up a servant in his confidence, told him to carry it over, and then took his place in my window to watch the result. in the mean time, finding it impossible to dislodge him, and that i could not count upon him to accompany me on my visits to the palaces as he had promised, i went to the hermitage alone. the great and little hermitages are connected with the winter palace and with each other by covered galleries, and the theatre is connected with the two hermitages by means of another great arch thrown over a canal, so that the whole present a continued line of imperial palaces, unequalled in extent in any part of europe, measuring one thousand five hundred and ninety-six feet, or one third of an english mile. if i were to select a building designed to realize the most extravagant notions of grandeur and luxury, it would be the gorgeous palace known under the modest name of the hermitage. i shall not attempt any description of the interior of this splendid edifice, but confine myself to a brief enumeration of its contents. i ascended by a spacious staircase to the anteroom, where i gave, or, rather, where my cane was demanded by the footman, and proceeded through a suite of magnificent rooms, every one surpassing the last, and richer in objects of the fine arts, science, and literature; embellished throughout by a profusion of the most splendid ornaments and furniture, and remarkable for beauty of proportion and variety of design. in rooms and galleries appropriated to the separate schools and masters are upward of thirteen hundred paintings by raphael, titian, guido, andrea del sarto, luca giordano, the caracci, perugino, corregio, and leonardi da vinci; here is also the best collection in existence, of pictures by wouvermans and teniers, with some of the masterpieces of rubens and vandyck, of the french claude, poussin, and vernet. the celebrated houghton collection is here, with a gallery of paintings of the spanish schools, many of them murillos. in one room is a superb vase of siberian jasper, of a lilac colour, five feet high, and of exquisite form and polish; in another are two magnificent candelabras, said to be valued at two hundred and twenty thousand rubles, or about fifty thousand dollars; i must mention also the great musical clock, representing an antique grecian temple, and containing within a combination of instruments, having the power of two orchestras, which accompany each other; two golden tripods, seven feet high, supporting the gold salvers on which salt and bread were exhibited to the emperor alexander on his triumphal return from paris, as emblems of wisdom and plenty, a large musical and magical secretary, which opens spontaneously in a hundred directions at the sound of music, purchased by the late emperor for eight hundred guineas; a room surrounded with books, some of which were originals, placed there by catharine for the use of the domestics, as she said, to keep the devil out of their heads; a saloon containing the largest collection of engravings and books of engravings in europe, amounting to upward of thirty thousand; a library of upward of one hundred and ten thousand volumes; an extensive cabinet of medals, and another of gems and pastes; a jewel-cabinet, containing the rich ornaments which have served for the toilettes of succeeding empresses, innumerable precious stones and pearls, many of extraordinary magnitude; a superb collection of antiques and cameos, amounting to upward of fifteen thousand, the cameos alone affording employment for days. in one room are curious works in ivory and fishbones, by the inhabitants of archangel, who are skilled in that species of workmanship; and in another is the celebrated clock, known by the name of l'horloge du paon. it is enclosed in a large glass case ten feet high, being the trunk of a golden tree, with its branches and leaves all of gold. on the top of the trunk sits a peacock, which, when the chimes begin, expands its brilliant tail, while an owl rolls its eyes with its own peculiar stare, and, instead of a bell striking the hours, a golden cock flaps his wings and crows. the clock is now out of order, and the machinery is so complicated that no artist has hitherto been able to repair it. but perhaps the most extraordinary and interesting of the wonders of the hermitage are the winter and summer gardens. as i strolled through the suites of apartments, and looked out through the windows of a long gallery, it was hardly possible to believe that the flourishing trees, shrubs, and flowers stood upon an artificial soil, raised nearly fifty feet above the surface of the earth. the winter garden is a large quadrangular conservatory, planted with laurels and orange trees, in which linnets and canary birds formerly flew about enjoying the freedom of nature; but the feathered tribe have disappeared. the summer garden connected with it is four hundred feet long; and here, suspended, as it were, in the air, near the top of the palace, i strolled along gravel-walks, and among parterres of shrubs and flowers growing in rich luxuriance, and under a thick foliage inhaled their delightful fragrance. it is idle to attempt a description of this scene. i returned to my pole, whom i found at his window with a melancholy and sentimental visage, his beautiful epistle returned upon his hands--having, in sportsman's phrase, entirely missed fire--and then lying with a most reproving look on his table. my friend had come up to st. petersburgh in consequence of a lawsuit, and as this occupied but a small portion of his time, he had involved himself in a lovesuit, and, so far as i could see, with about an equal chance of success in both. l'amour was the great business of his life, and he could not be content unless he had on hand what he called une affaire du coeur. footnote: [ ] the winter palace has since been destroyed by fire. the author has not seen any account of the particulars, but has heard that the contents of the diamond chamber were saved. chapter viii. an imperial fête.--nicolas of russia.--varied splendours.--a soliloquy.--house of peter the great.--a boatrace.--czarskoselo.--the amber chamber.--catharine ii.--the emperor alexander. the next day was that appointed for the great fête at peterhoff. in spite of the confining nature of his two suits, my pole had determined to accompany me thither, being prompted somewhat by the expectation of seeing his damsel; and, no way disheartened by the fate of his first letter, he had manufactured another, by comparison with which the first was an icicle. i admitted it to be a masterpiece, though when he gave it to a servant to carry over, as we were on the point of setting off, suggested that it might be worth while to wait and pick it up when she threw it out of the window. but he had great confidence, and thought much better of her spirit for sending back his first letter. the whole population of petersburgh was already in motion and on the way to peterhoff. it was expected that the fête would be more than usually splendid, on account of the presence of the queen of holland, then on a visit to her sister the empress; and at an early hour the splendid equipages of the nobility, carriages, droskys, telegas, and carts, were hurrying along the banks of the neva, while steamboats, sailboats, rowboats, and craft of every description were gliding on the bosom of the river. as the least trouble, we chose a steamboat, and at twelve o'clock embarked at the english quay. the boat was crowded with passengers, and among them was an old english gentleman, a merchant of thirty years' standing in st. petersburgh. i soon became acquainted with him, how i do not know, and his lady told me that the first time i passed them she remarked to her husband that i was an american. the reader may remember that a lady made the same remark at smyrna; without knowing exactly how to understand it, i mention it as a fact showing the nice discrimination acquired by persons in the habit of seeing travellers from different countries. before landing, the old gentleman told me that his boys had gone down in a pleasure-boat, abundantly provided with materials, and asked me to go on board and lunch with them, which, upon the invitation being extended to my friend, i accepted. peterhoff is about twenty-five versts from st. petersburgh, and the whole bank of the neva on that side is adorned with palaces and beautiful summer residences of the russian seigneurs. it stands at the mouth of the neva, on the borders of the gulf of finland. opposite is the city of cronstadt, the seaport of st. petersburgh and the anchorage of the russian fleet. it was then crowded with merchant ships of every nation, with flags of every colour streaming from their spars in honour of the day. on landing, we accompanied our new friends, and found "the boys," three fine young fellows just growing up to manhood, in a handsome little pleasure-boat, with a sail arranged as an awning, waiting for their parents. we were introduced and received with open arms, and sat down to a cold collation in good old english style, at which, for the first time since i left home, i fastened upon an oldfashioned sirloin of roastbeef. it was a delightful meeting for me. the old people talked to me about my travels; and the old lady particularly, with almost a motherly interest in a straggling young man, inquired about my parents, brothers, and sisters, &c.; and i made my way with the frankhearted "boys" by talking "boat." altogether, it was a regular home family scene; and, after the lunch, we left the old people under the awning, promising to return at nine o'clock for tea, and with "the boys" set off to view the fête. from the time when we entered the grounds until we left at three o'clock the next morning, the whole was a fairy scene. the grounds extended some distance along the shore, and the palace stands on an embankment perhaps a hundred and fifty feet high, commanding a full view of the neva, cronstadt with its shipping, and the gulf of finland. we followed along the banks of a canal five hundred yards long, bordered by noble trees. on each side of the canal were large wooden frames about sixty feet high, filled with glass lamps for the illumination; and at the foot of each was another high framework with lamps, forming, among other things, the arms of russia, the double-headed eagle, and under it a gigantic star thirty or forty feet in diameter. at the head of the canal was a large basin of water, and in the centre of the basin stood a colossal group in brass, of a man tearing open the jaws of a rampant lion; and out of the mouth of the lion rushed a jet d'eau perhaps a hundred and fifty feet high. on each side of this basin, at a distance of about three hundred feet, was a smaller basin, with a jet d'eau in each about half its height, and all around were jets d'eau of various kinds, throwing water vertically and horizontally; among them i remember a figure larger than life, leaning forward in the attitude of a man throwing the discus, with a powerful stream of water rushing from his clinched fist. these basins were at the foot of the embankment on which stands the palace. in the centre was a broad flight of steps leading to the palace, and on each side was a continuous range of marble slabs to the top of the hill, over which poured down a sheet of water, the slabs being placed so high and far apart as to allow lamps to be arranged behind the water. all over, along the public walks and in retired alcoves, were frames hung with lamps; and everywhere, under the trees and on the open lawn, were tents of every size and fashion, beautifully decorated; many of them, oriental in style and elegance, were fitted up as places of refreshment. thousands of people, dressed in their best attire, were promenading the grounds, but no vehicles were to be seen, until, in turning a point, we espied at some distance up an avenue, and coming quietly toward us, a plain open carriage, with two horses and two english jockey outriders, in which were a gentleman and lady, whom, without the universal taking off of hats around us, i recognised at once as the emperor and empress. i am not apt to be carried away by any profound admiration for royalty, but, without consideration of their rank, i never saw a finer specimen of true gentility; in fact, he looked every inch a king, and she was my beau ideal of a queen in appearance and manners. they bowed as they passed, and, as i thought, being outside of the line of russians and easily recognised as a stranger, their courtesy was directed particularly to me; but i found that my companion took it very much to himself, and no doubt every long-bearded russian near us did the same. in justice to myself, however, i may almost say that i had a conversation with the emperor; for although his imperial highness did not speak to me, he spoke in a language which none but i (and the queen and his jockey outriders) understood; for, waving his hand to them, i heard him say in english, "to the right." after this _interview_ with his majesty we walked up to the palace. the splendid regiments of cavalier guards were drawn up around it, every private carrying himself like a prince; and i did not admire all his palaces, nor hardly his queen, so much as this splendid body of armed followers. behind the palace is a large plain cut up into gravel-walks, having in one place a basin of water, with waterworks of various kinds, among which were some of peculiar beauty falling in the form of a semiglobe. a little before dark we retired to a refectory under a tent until the garden was completely lighted up, that we might have the full effect of the illumination at one coup d'oeil, and, when we went out, the dazzling brilliancy of the scene within the semicircular illumination around the waterworks was beyond description. this semicircular framework enclosed in a large sweep the three basins, and terminated at the embankment on which the palace stands, presenting all around an immense fiery scroll in the air, sixty or eighty feet high, and filled with all manner of devices; and for its background a broad sheet of water falling over a range of steps, with lighted lamps behind it, forming an illuminated cascade, while the basins were blazing with the light thrown upon them from myriads of lamps, and the colossal figures of a reddened and unearthly hue were spouting columns of water into the air. more than two hundred thousand people were supposed to be assembled in the garden, in every variety of gay, brilliant, and extraordinary costume. st. petersburgh was half depopulated, and thousands of peasants were assembled from the neighbouring provinces. i was accidentally separated from all my companions; and, alone among thousands, sat down on the grass, and for an hour watched the throng passing through the illuminated circle, and ascending the broad steps leading toward the palace. among all this immense crowd there was no rabble; not a dress that could offend the eye; but intermingled with the ordinary costumes of europeans were the russian shopkeeper, with his long surtout, his bell-crowned hat, and solemn beard; cossacks, and circassian soldiers, and calmuc tartars, and cavalier guards, hussars, with the sleeves of their rich jackets dangling loose over their shoulders, tossing plumes, and helmets glittering with steel, intermingled throughout with the gay dresses of ladies; while near me, and, like me, carelessly stretched on the grass, under the light of thousands of lamps, was a group of peasants from finland fiddling and dancing; the women with light hair, bands around their heads, and long jackets enwrapping their square forms, and the men with long greatcoats, broad-brimmed hats, and a bunch of shells in front. leaving this brilliant scene, i joined the throng on the steps, and by the side of a splendid hussar, stooping his manly figure to whisper in the ears of a lovely young girl, i ascended to the palace and presented my ticket of admission to the bal masqué, so called from their being no masks there. i had not been presented at court, and, consequently, had only admission to the outer apartments with the people. i had, however, the range of a succession of splendid rooms, richly decorated with vases and tazzas of precious stones, candelabra, couches, ottomans, superb mirrors, and inlaid floors; and the centre room, extending several hundred feet in length, had its lofty walls covered to the very ceilings with portraits of all the female beauties in russia about eighty years ago. i was about being tired of gazing at these pictures of long-sleeping beauties, when the great doors at one end were thrown open, and the emperor and empress, attended by the whole court, passed through on their way to the banqueting-hall. although i had been in company with the emperor before in the garden, and though i had taken off my hat to the empress, both passed without recognising me. the court at st. petersburgh is admitted to be the most brilliant in europe; the dresses of the members of the diplomatic corps and the uniforms of the general and staff-officers being really magnificent, while those of the ladies sparkled with jewels. besides the emperor and empress, the only acquaintance i recognised in that constellation of brilliantly-dressed people were mr. wilkins and mr. clay, who, for republicans, made a very fair blaze. i saw them enter the banqueting-hall, painted in oriental style to represent a tent, and might have had the pleasure of seeing the emperor and empress and all that brilliant collection eat; but, turning away from a noise that destroyed much of the illusion, viz., the clatter of knives and forks, and a little piqued at the cavalier treatment i had received from the court circles, i went out on the balcony and soliloquized, "fine feathers make fine birds; but look back a little, ye dashing cavaliers and supercilious ladies. in the latter part of the seventeenth century, a french traveller in russia wrote that 'most men treat their wives as a necessary evil, regarding them with a proud and stern eye, and even beating them after.' dr. collins, physician to the czar in , as an evidence of the progress of civilization in russia, says that the custom of tying up wives by the hair of the head and flogging them 'begins to be left off;' accounting for it, however, by the prudence of parents, who made a stipulative provision in the marriage contract that their daughters were not to be whipped, struck, kicked, &c. but, even in this improved state of society, one man 'put upon his wife a shirt dipped in ardent spirits, and burned her to death,' and was not punished, there being, according to the doctor, 'no punishment in russia for killing a wife or a slave.' when no provision was made in the marriage contract, he says they were accustomed to discipline their wives very severely. at the marriage the bridegroom had a whip in one boot and a jewel in the other, and this poor girl tried her fortune by choosing. 'if she happens upon the jewel,' says another traveller, 'she is lucky; but if on the whip, she gets it.' the bridegroom rarely saw his companion's face till after the marriage, when, it is said, 'if she be ugly she pays for it soundly, maybe the first time he sees her.' ugliness being punished with the whip, the women painted to great excess; and a traveller in sixteen hundred and thirty-six saw the grand duchess and her ladies on horseback astride, 'most wickedly bepainted.' the day after a lady had been at an entertainment, the hostess was accustomed to ask how she got home; and the polite answer was, 'your ladyship's hospitality made me so tipsy that i don't know how i got home;' and for the climax of their barbarity it can scarcely be believed, but it is recorded as a fact, that the women did not begin to wear stays till the beginning of the present century!" soothed by these rather ill-natured reflections, i turned to the illuminated scene and the thronging thousands below, descended once more to the garden, passed down the steps, worked my way through the crowd, and fell into a long avenue, like all the rest of the garden, brilliantly lighted, but entirely deserted. at the end of the avenue i came to an artificial lake, opposite which was a small square two-story cottage, being the old residence of peter the great, the founder of all the magnificence of peterhoff. it was exactly in the style of our ordinary country houses, and the furniture was of a simplicity that contrasted strangely with the surrounding luxury and splendour. the door opened into a little hall, in which were two oldfashioned dutch mahogany tables, with oval leaves, legs tapering and enlarging at the feet into something like a horseshoe; just such a table as every one may remember in his grandfather's house, and recalling to mind the simple style of our own country some thirty or forty years ago. in a room on one side was the old czar's bed, a low, broad wooden bedstead, with a sort of canopy over it, the covering of the canopy and the coverlet being of striped calico; the whole house, inside and out, was hung with lamps, illumining with a glare that was almost distressing the simplicity of peter's residence; and, as if to give greater contrast to this simplicity, while i was standing in the door of the hall, i saw roll by me in splendid equipages, the emperor and empress, with the whole of the brilliant court which i had left in the banqueting-hall, now making a tour of the gardens. the carriages were all of one pattern, long, hung low, without any tops, and somewhat like our omnibuses, except that, instead of the seats being on one side, there was a partition in the middle not higher than the back of a sofa, with large seats like sofas on each side, on which the company sat in a row, with their backs to each other; in front was a high and large box for the coachmen, and a footman behind. it was so light that i could distinguish the face of every gentleman and lady as they passed; and there was something so unique in the exhibition, that, with the splendour of the court dresses, it seemed the climax of the brilliant scenes at peterhoff. i followed them with my eyes till they were out of sight, gave one more look to the modest pillow on which old peter reposed his careworn head, and at about one o'clock in the morning left the garden. a frigate brilliantly illuminated was firing a salute, the flash of her guns lighting up the dark surface of the water as i embarked on board the steamboat. at two o'clock the morning twilight was like that of day; at three o'clock i was at my hotel, and, probably, at ten minutes past, asleep. about eight o'clock the next morning my pole came into my room. he had returned from peterhoff before me, and found waiting for him his second epistle, with a note from the mother of the young lady, which he read to me as i lay in bed. though more than half asleep, i was rather roused by the strange effect this letter had upon him, for he was now encouraged to go on with his suit, since he found that the backwardness of the young lady was to be ascribed to the influence of the mother, and not to any indifference on her part. in the afternoon i went to a boatrace between english amateurs that had excited some interest among the english residents. the boats were badly matched; a six-oared boat thirty-two feet long, and weighing two hundred and thirty pounds, being pitted against three pairs of sculls, with a boat twenty-eight feet long and weighing only one hundred and eight pounds. one belonged to the english legation and the other to some english merchants. the race was from the english quay to the bridge opposite the suwarrow monument at the foot of the summer garden, and back, a little more than two miles each way. the rapidity of the current was between two and three miles an hour, though its full strength was avoided by both boats keeping in the eddies along shore. it was a beautiful place for a boatrace; the banks of the neva were lined with spectators, and the six-oared boat beat easily, performing the distance in thirty-one minutes. the next morning, in company with a frenchman lately arrived at our hotel, i set out for the imperial palace of czarskoselo, about seventeen versts from st. petersburgh. about seven versts from the city we passed the imperial seat of zechenne, built by the empress catharine to commemorate the victory obtained by orloff over the turks on the coast of anatolia. the edifice is in the form of a turkish pavilion, with a central rotunda containing the full-length portraits of the sovereigns cotemporary with catharine. since her death this palace has been deserted. in eighteen hundred and twenty-five, alexander and the empress passed it on their way to the south of russia, and about eight months after their mortal remains found shelter in it for a night, on their way to the imperial sepulchre. there was no other object of interest on the road until we approached czarskoselo. opposite the "caprice gate" is a cluster of white houses, in two rows, of different sizes, diminishing as they recede from the road, and converging at the farthest extremity; altogether a bizarre arrangement, and showing the magnificence of russian gallantry. the empress catharine at the theatre one night happened to express her pleasure at the perspective view of a small town, and the next time she visited czarskoselo she saw the scene realized in a town erected by count orloff at immense expense before the gate of the palace. the façade of the palace is unequalled by any royal residence in the world, being twelve hundred feet in length. originally, every statue, pedestal, and capital of the numerous columns; the vases, carvings, and other ornaments in front, were covered with gold leaf, the gold used for that purpose amounting to more than a million of ducats. in a few years the gilding wore off, and the contractors engaged in repairing it offered the empress nearly half a million of rubles (silver) for the fragments of gold; but the empress scornfully refused, saying, "je ne suis pas dans l'usage de vendre mes vielles hardes." i shall not attempt to carry the reader through the magnificent apartments of this palace. but i must not forget the famed amber chamber, the whole walls and ceilings being of amber, some of the pieces of great size, neatly fitted together, and even the frames of the pictures an elaborate workmanship of the same precious material. but even this did not strike me so forcibly as when, conducted through a magnificent apartment, the walls covered with black paper shining like ebony, and ornamented with gold and immense looking-glasses, the footman opened a window at the other end, and we looked down into the chapel, an asiatic structure, presenting an _ensemble_ of rich gilding of surpassing beauty, every part of it, the groups of columns, the iconastos, and the gallery for the imperial family, resplendent with gold. in one of the staterooms where the empress's mother resides, the floor consists of a parquet of fine wood inlaid with wreaths of mother-of-pearl, and the panels of the room were incrusted with lapis lazuli. but to me all these magnificent chambers were as nothing compared with those which were associated with the memory of the late occupant. "uneasy rests the head that wears a crown;" and perhaps it is for this reason that i like to look upon the pillow of a king, far more on that of a queen. the bedchamber of catharine ii. is adorned with walls of porcelain and pillars of purple glass; the bedclothes are those under which she slept the last time she was at the palace, and in one place was a concealed door, by which, as the unmannerly footman, without any respect to her memory, told us, her imperial highness admitted her six-feet paramours. in the bedchamber of alexander were his cap, gloves, boots, and other articles of dress, lying precisely as he left them previous to his departure for the southern part of his empire. his bed was of leather, stuffed with straw, and his boots were patched over and over worse than mine, which i had worn all the way from paris. i tried on his cap and gloves, and moralized over his patched boots. i remembered alexander as the head of a gigantic empire, the friend and ally, and then the deadly foe of napoleon; the companion of kings and princes; the arbiter of thrones and empires, and playing with crowns and sceptres. i sat with the patched boots in my hand. like old peter, he had considerable of a foot, and i respected him for it. i saw him, as it were, in an undress, simple and unostentatious in his habits; and there was a domestic air in his whole suite of apartments that interested me more than when i considered him on his throne. his sitting-room showed quiet and gentlemanly as well as domestic habits, for along the wall was a border of earth, with shrubs and flowers growing out of it, a delicate vine trailed around and almost covering a little mahogany railing. the grounds around the palace are eighteen miles in circumference, abounding in picturesque and beautiful scenery, improved by taste and an unbounded expenditure of money, and at this time they were in the fulness of summer beauty. we may talk simplicity and republicanism, but, after all, it must be a pleasant thing to be an emperor. i always felt this, particularly when strolling through imperial parks or pleasure-grounds, and sometimes i almost came to the unsentimental conclusion that, to be rural, a man must be rich. we wandered through the grounds without any plan, taking any path that offered, and at every step some new beauty broke upon us: a theatre; turkish kiosk or chinese pagoda; splendid bridges, arches, and columns; and an egyptian gate; a summer-house in the form of an ionic colonnade, a masterpiece of taste and elegance, supporting an aerial garden crowded with flowers; and a gothic building called the admiralty, on the borders of an extensive lake, on which lay several boats--rigged as frigates, elegant barges and pleasure-boats, and beautiful white swans floating majestically upon its surface; on the islands and the shores of the lake were little summer-houses; at the other end was a magnificent stone landing, and in full view a marble bridge, with corinthian columns of polished marble; an arsenal, with many curious and interesting objects, antique suits of armour, and two splendid sets of horse trappings, holsters, pistols, and bridles, all studded with diamonds, presented by the sultan on occasion of the peace of adrianople. nor must i forget the dairy, and a superb collection of goats and lamas from siberia. amid this congregation of beauties one thing offended me; a gothic tower built as a ruin for the sake of the picturesque, which, wanting the associations connected with monuments ruined by time, struck me as a downright mockery. we had intended to visit the palace of paulowsky, but time slipped away, and it was six o'clock before we started to return to st. petersburgh. chapter ix. the soldier's reward.--review of the russian army.--american cannibals.--palace of potemkin.--palace of the grand-duke michael.--equipments for travelling.--rough riding.--poland.--vitepsk.--napoleon in poland.--the disastrous retreat.--passage of the berezina. early the next morning i went out about twelve versts from the city to attend a grand military review by the emperor in person. the government of russia is a military despotism, and her immense army, nominally amounting to a million, even on the peace establishment numbers actually six hundred thousand, of which sixty thousand follow the person of the emperor, and were at that time under arms at st. petersburgh. when i rode on the parade-ground, the spectacle of this great army, combining the élite of barbaric chivalry with soldiers trained in the best schools of european discipline, drawn up in battle's stern array, and glittering with steel, was brilliant and almost sublime; in numbers and military bearing, in costliness of armour and equipment, far surpassing any martial parade that i had seen, not excepting a grand review of french troops at paris, or even a _fourth of july parade at home_. i once had the honour to be a paymaster in the valiant one hundred and ninety-seventh regiment of new-york state militia; and i can say what, perhaps, no other man who ever served in our _army_ can say, that i served out my whole term without being once promoted. men came in below and went out above me; ensigns became colonels and lieutenants generals, but i remained the same; it was hard work to escape promotion, but i was resolute. associated with me was a friend as quartermaster, with as little of the spirit of a soldier in him as myself, for which we were rather looked down upon by the warriors of our day; and when, at the end of our term, in company with several other officers, we resigned, the next regimental orders were filled with military panegyrics, such as, "the colonel has received, with the greatest regret, the resignation of lieutenant a.;" "the country has reason to deplore the loss of the services of captain b.;" and wound up with, "quartermaster g. and paymaster s. have tendered their resignations, _both of which are hereby accepted_." but when strains of martial music burst from a hundred bands, and companies, and regiments, and brigades wheeled and manoeuvred before me, and the emperor rode by, escorted by general and field officers, and the most magnificent staff in europe, and the earth shook under the charge of cavalry, i felt a strong martial spirit roused within me, perhaps i was excited by the reflection that these soldiers had been in battles, and that the stars and medals glittering on their breasts were not mere holyday ornaments, but the tokens of desperate service on bloody battle-fields. in a body, the russian soldiers present an exceedingly fine appearance. when the serf is enrolled, his hair and beard are cut off, except on the upper lip, his uniform is simple and graceful, a belt is worn tightly round the waist, and the breast of the coat is thickly padded, increasing the manliness of the figure, though sometimes at the expense of health. in evolutions they move like a great machine, as if all the arms and legs were governed by a single impulse. the army under review was composed of representatives from all the nations under the sway of russia; cossacks of the don, and the wolga, and the black sea, in jackets and wide pantaloons of blue cloth, riding on small horses, with high-peaked saddles, and carrying spears eight or ten feet in length. one regiment had the privilege of wearing a ragged flag and caps full of holes, as proofs of their gallant service, being the only regiment that fought at pultowa. and there were calmucs in their extraordinary war-dress; a helmet with a gilded crest, or a chain cap with a network of iron rings falling over the head and shoulders, and hanging as low as the eyebrows in front; a shirt of mail, composed of steel rings matted together and yielding to the body, the arms protected by plates, and the back of the hand by steel network fastened to the plates on each side; their offensive weapons were bows and arrows, silver-mounted pistols peeping out of their holsters, cartridge-boxes on each side of the breast, and a dagger, sword, and gun. the kirguish, a noble-looking race, come from the steppes of siberia. their uniform is magnificent, consisting of a blue frockcoat and pantaloons covered with silver lace, a grecian helmet, and a great variety of splendid arms, the yataghan alone costing a thousand rubles. they are all noble, and have no regular duty, except to attend the imperial family on extraordinary occasions. at home they are always at war among themselves. they are mohammedans; and one of them said to an american friend who had a long conversation with him, that he had four wives at home; that some had more, but it was not considered becoming to exceed that number. a bearded russian came up and said that these kirguish eat dogs and cats against which the kirguish protested. the same russian afterward observed that the americans were worse than the kirguish, for that a patriarch of the church had written, and therefore it must be true, that the number of human beings eaten by americans could not be counted; adding, with emphasis, "sir, you were created in the likeness of your maker, and you should endeavour to keep yourself so." he continued that the russians were the first christians, and he felt much disposed to send missionaries among the americans to meliorate their condition. the imperial guards are the finest-looking set of men i ever saw. the standard is six feet, and none are admitted below that height. their uniform is a white cloth coat, with buckskin breeches, boots reaching up to the hips, and swords that wallace himself would not have been ashamed to wield. but perhaps the most striking in that brilliant army was the emperor himself; seeming its natural head, towering even above his gigantic guards, and looking, as mr. wilkins once said of him, like one who, among savages, would have been chosen for a chief. in the midst of this martial spectacle, the thought came over me of militia musters at home; and though smiling at the insignificance of our military array as i rode back in my drosky, i could but think of the happiness of our isolated position, which spares us the necessity of keeping a large portion of our countrymen constantly in arms to preserve the rest in the enjoyment of life and fortune. the next morning my polish friend, hopeless of success either in his lawsuit or his lovesuit, fixed a day for our departure; and, with the suggestion that i am about leaving st. petersburgh, i turn once more, and for the last time, to the imperial palaces. not far from the hermitage is the marble palace; a colossal pile, built by the empress catharine for her favourite, count orloff, presenting one of its fronts to the neva. all the decorations are of marble and gilded bronze, and the capitals and bases of the columns and pilasters, and the window-frames and balustrades of the balconies, of cast bronze richly gilded. the effect is heightened by the unusually large dimensions of the squares of fine plate glass. a traveller in seventeen hundred and fifty-nine says "that the prodigies of enchantment which we read of in the tales of the genii are here called forth into reality; and the temples reared by the luxuriant fancy of our poets may be considered as a picture of the marble palace, which jupiter, when the burden of cares drives him from heaven, might make his delightful abode." at present, however, there are but few remains of this olympian magnificence, and i think jupiter at the same expense would prefer the winter palace or the hermitage. the taurida palace, erected by catharine ii. for her lover, potemkin, in general effect realizes the exaggerated accounts of travellers. the entrance is into a spacious hall, which leads to a circular vestibule of extraordinary magnitude, decorated with busts and statues in marble, with a dome supported by white columns. from thence you pass between the columns into an immense hall or ballroom, two hundred and eighty feet long and eighty wide, with double colonnades of lofty ionic pillars decorated with gold and silver festoons, thirty-five feet high and ten feet in circumference. from the colonnade, running the whole length of the ballroom, you enter the winter garden, which concealed flues and stoves keep always at the temperature of summer; and here, upon great occasions, under the light of magnificent lustres and the reflection of numerous mirrors, during the fierceness of the russian winter, when the whole earth is covered with snow, and "water tossed in the air drops down in ice," the imperial visiter may stroll through gravel-walks bordered with the choicest plants and flowers, blooming hedges and groves of orange, and inhale the fragrance of an arabian garden. paul, in one of his "darkened hours," converted this palace into barracks and a riding-school; but it has since been restored, in some degree, to its ancient splendour. the palace of paul, in which he was assassinated, has been uninhabited since his death. but the triumph of modern architecture in st. petersburgh is the palace of the grand-duke michael. i shall not attempt any description of this palace; but, to give some notion of its splendours to my calculating countrymen, i shall merely remark that it cost upward of seventeen millions of rubles. but i am weary of palaces; of wandering through magnificent apartments, where scene after scene bursts upon my eyes, and, before i begin to feel at home in them, i find myself ordered out by the footman. will the reader believe me? on the opposite side of the river is a little wooden house, more interesting in my eyes than all the palaces in st. petersburgh. it is the humble residence of peter the great. i visited it for the last time after rambling through the gorgeous palace of the grand-duke michael. it is one story high, low roofed, with a little piazza around it, and contains a sitting-room, bedroom, and dining-parlours; and peter himself, with his own axe, assisted in its construction. the rooms are only eight feet in height, the sitting-room is fifteen feet square, the dining-room fifteen feet by twelve, and the bedchamber ten feet square. in the first there is a chapel and shrine, where the russian visiter performs his orisons and prays for the soul of peter. around the cottage is a neat garden, and a boat made by peter himself is suspended to one of the walls. i walked around the cottage, inside and out; listened attentively, without understanding a word he said, to the garrulous russian cicerone, and sat down on the step of the front piazza. opposite was that long range of imperial palaces extending for more than a mile on the neva, and surpassing all other royal residences in europe or the world. when peter sat in the door of this humble cottage, the ground where they stood was all morass and forest. where i saw the lofty spires of magnificent churches, he looked out upon fishermen's huts. my eyes fell upon the golden spire of the church of the citadel glittering in the sunbeams, and reminding me that in its dismal charnelhouse slept the tenant of the humble cottage, the master-spirit which had almost created out of nothing all this splendour. i saw at the same time the beginning and the end of greatness. the humble dwelling is preserved with religious reverence, and even now is the most interesting monument which the imperial city can show. and here, at this starting-point in her career, i take my leave of the palmyra of the north. i am compelled to omit many things which he who speaks of st. petersburgh at all ought not to omit: her magnificent churches; her gigantic and splendid theatres; her literary, scientific, and eleemosynary institutions, and that which might form the subject of a chapter in her capital, her government and laws. i might have seen something of russian society, as my friend luoff had arrived in st. petersburgh; but, with my limited time, the interchange of these civilities interfered with my seeing the curiosities of the capital. my intimacy with the colonel had fallen off, though we still were on good terms. the fact is, i believe i fell into rather queer company in st. petersburgh, and very soon found the colonel to be the most thorough roué i ever met. he seemed to think that travelling meant dissipating; he had never travelled but once, and that was with the army to paris; and, except when on duty, his whole time had been spent in riot and dissipation; and though sometimes he referred to hard fighting, he talked more of the pleasures of that terrible campaign than of its toils and dangers. in consideration of my being a stranger and a young man, he constituted himself my mentor, and the advice which, in all soberness, he gave me as the fruits of his experience, was a beautiful guide for the road to ruin. i have no doubt that, if i had given myself up entirely to him, he would have fêted me all the time i was in st. petersburgh; but this did not suit me, and i afterward fell in with the pole, who had his own vagaries too, and who, being the proprietor of a cloth manufactory, did not suit the aristocratic notions of the colonel, and so our friendship cooled. my intimacy with his friend the prince, however, increased. i called upon him frequently, and he offered to accompany me everywhere; but as in sightseeing i love to be alone, i seldom asked him, except for a twilight walk. old associations were all that now bound together him and the colonel; their feelings, their fortunes, and their habits of life were entirely different; and the colonel, instead of being displeased with my seeking the prince in preference to himself, was rather gratified. altogether, the colonel told me, he was much mistaken in me, but he believed i was a good fellow after all; excused my regular habits somewhat on the ground of my health; and the day before that fixed for my departure, asked me to pass the evening with him, and to bring my friend the pole. in the evening we went to the colonel's apartments. the prince was there, and, after an elegant little supper, happening to speak of a frenchman and a prussian living in the hotel, with whom i had become acquainted, he sent down for them to come up and join us. the table was cleared, pipes and tobacco were brought on, and champagne was the only wine. we had a long and interesting conversation on the subject of the road to warsaw, and particularly in regard to the bloody passage of the berezina, at which both the colonel and the prince were present. the servant, a favourite serf (who the next day robbed the colonel of every valuable article in his apartment), being clumsy in opening a new bottle of champagne, the colonel said he must return to army practice, and reaching down his sabre, with a scientific blow took off the neck without materially injuring the bottle or disturbing the contents. this military way of decanting champagne aided its circulation, and head after head fell rapidly before the naked sabre. i had for some time avoided emptying my glass, which, in the general hurry of business, was not noticed; but, as soon as the colonel discovered it, he cried out, "treason, treason against good fellowship. america is a traitor." i pleaded ill health, but he would not listen to me; upbraided me that the friend and old ally of russia should fail him; turned up his glass on the table, and swore he would not touch it again unless i did him justice. all followed his example; all decided that america was disturbing the peace of nations; the glasses were turned up all around, and a dead stop was put to the merriment. i appealed, begged, and protested; and the colonel became positive, dogged, and outrageous. the prince came to my aid, and proposed that the difficulty between russia and america should be submitted to the arbitration of france and prussia. he had observed these powers rather backing out. the eyes of france were already in a fine phrensy rolling, and prussia's tongue had long been wandering; and in apprehension of their own fate, these mighty powers leaned to mercy. it was necessary, however, to propitiate the colonel, and they decided that, to prevent the effusion of blood, i should start once more the flow of wine; that we should begin again with a bumper all around; and, after that, every man should do as he pleased. the colonel was obliged to be content; and swearing that he would drink for us all, started anew. the prussian was from berlin, and this led the colonel to speak of the stirring scenes that had taken place in that capital on the return of the russian army from paris; and, after a while, the prussian, personally unknown to the colonel, told him that his name was still remembered in berlin as a leader in russian riot and dissipation, and particularly as having carried off, in a most daring manner, a lady of distinguished family; and--"go on," said the colonel--"killed her husband." "he refused my challenge," said the colonel, "but sought my life, and i shot him like a dog." the whole party now became uproarious; the colonel begged me, by all the friendly relations between russia and america, to hold on till breakfast-time; but, being the coolest man present, and not knowing what farther developments might take place, i broke up the party. in the morning my passport was not ready. i went off to the police-office for it, and when i returned the horses had not come, and the valet brought me the usual answer, that there were none. my pole was glad to linger another day for the sake of his flirtation with the little girl opposite, and so we lounged through the day, part of the time in the bazar of a persian, where i came near ruining myself by an offer i made for a beautiful emerald; and after one more and the last twilight stroll on the banks of the neva and up the newski perspective, we returned at an early hour, and for the last time in russia, slept in a bed. at nine o'clock the next morning a kibitka drove up to the door of our hotel, demanding an american and a pole for warsaw. all the servants of the hotel were gathered around, arranging the luggage, and making a great parade of getting off the distinguished travellers. the travellers themselves seemed equipped for a long journey. one wore a blue roundabout jacket, military cap and cloak, with whiskers and a mustache tending to red; the other, a tall, stout, herculean fellow, was habited in the most outré costume of a russian traveller; a cotton dressing-gown of every variety of colours, red and yellow predominating; coarse gray trousers; boots coming above his knees; a cap _tout a fait farouche_, and there was no mistake about the colour of his hair and mustaches; he was moving slowly around the kibitka in his travelling dress, and looking up to the window opposite, to give his dulcinea the melancholy intelligence that he was going away, and perhaps to catch one farewell smile at parting. the carriage of these distinguished travellers was the kibitka, one of the national vehicles of russia, being a long, round-bottomed box or cradle on four wheels, probably the old scythian wagon, resting, in proud contempt of the effeminacy of springs, on the oaken axles; the hubs of the wheels were two feet long, the linchpins of wood, the body of the carriage fastened to the wheels by wooden pins, ropes, and sticks; and, except the tires of the wheels, there was not a nail or piece of iron about it. the hinder part was covered with matting, open in front somewhat like an oldfashioned bonnet, and supported by an arched stick, which served as a linchpin for the hind wheels; a bucket of grease hung under the hind axle, and the bottom of the kibitka was filled with straw; whole cost of outfit, thirteen dollars. before it were three horses, one in shafts and one on each side, the centre one having a high bow over his neck, painted yellow and red, to which a rein was tied for holding up his head, and also a bell, to a russian postillion more necessary than harness. the travellers took their places in the bottom of the kibitka, and the postillion, a rough, brutal-looking fellow, in gray coat and hat turned up at the sides, mounted in front, catching a seat where he could on the rim of the wagon, about three inches wide; and in this dashing equipage we started for a journey of a thousand miles to the capital of another kingdom. we rolled for the last time through the streets of st. petersburgh, gazed at the domes, and spires, and magnificent palaces, and in a few moments passed the barrier. i left st. petersburgh, as i did every other city, with a certain feeling of regret that, in all probability, i should never see it more; still the cracking of the postillion's whip and the galloping of the horses created in me that high excitement which i always felt in setting out for a new region. our first stage was to czarskoselo, our second to cazena, where there was another palace. it was dark when we reached the third, a small village, of which i did not even note the name. i shall not linger on this road, for it was barren of interest and incident, and through a continued succession of swamps and forests. for two hundred miles it tried the tenure of adhesion between soul and body, being made of the trunks of trees laid transversely, bound down by long poles or beams fastened into the ground with wooden pegs covered with layers of boughs, and the whole strewed over with sand and earth; the trunks in general were decayed and sunken, and the sand worn or washed away, reminding me of the worst of our western corduroy roads. our wagon being without springs, and our seats a full-length extension on straw on the bottom, without the bed, pillows, and cushions which the russians usually have, i found this ride one of the severest trials of physical endurance i ever experienced. my companion groaned and brushed his mustaches, and talked of the little girl at st. petersburgh. in my previous journey in russia i had found the refreshment of tea, and on this, often when almost exhausted, i was revived by that precious beverage. i stood it three days and nights, but on the fourth completely broke down. i insensibly slipped down at full length in the bottom of the wagon; the night was cold and rainy; my companion covered me up to the eyes with straw, and i slept from the early part of the evening like a dead man. the horses were changed three times; the wagon was lifted up under me, and the wheels greased; and three times my companion quarrelled with the postmaster over my body without waking me. about six o'clock in the morning he roused me. i could not stir hand or foot; my mouth was full of dust and straw, and i felt a sense of suffocation. in a few moments i crawled out, staggered a few steps, and threw myself down on the floor of a wretched posthouse. my companion put my carpet-bag under my head, wrapped cloaks and greatcoats around me, and prepared me some tea; but i loathed everything. i was in that miserable condition which every traveller has some time experienced; my head ringing, every bone aching, and perfectly reckless as to what became of me. while my companion stood over me i fell asleep, and believe i should have been sleeping there yet if he had not waked me. he said we must go on at all risks until we found a place where we could remain with some degree of comfort. i begged and entreated to be left to myself, but he was inexorable. he lifted me up, hauled me out to the kibitka, which was filled with fresh straw, and seated me within, supporting me on his shoulder. it was a beautiful day. we moved moderately, and toward evening came to a posthouse kept by a jew, or, rather, a jewess, who was so kind and attentive that we determined to stay there all night. she brought in some clean straw and spread it on the floor, where i slept gloriously. my companion was tougher than i, but he could not stand the fleas and bugs, and about midnight went out and slept in the kibitka. in the morning we found that he had been too late; that the kibitka had been stripped of every article except himself and the straw. fortunately, my carpet-bag had been brought in; but i received a severe blow in the loss of a cane, an old friend and travelling companion, which had been with me in every variety of scene, and which i had intended to carry home with me, and retain as a companion through life. it is almost inconceivable how much this little incident distressed me. it was a hundred times worse than the loss of my carpet-bag. i felt the want of it every moment; i had rattled it on the boulevards of paris, in the eternal city, the colosseum, and the places thereabout; had carried it up the burning mountain, and poked it into the red-hot lava; had borne it in the acropolis, on the field of marathon, and among the ruins of ephesus; had flourished it under the beard of the sultan, and the eyes and nose of the emperor and autocrat of all the russias; in deserts and in cities it had been my companion and friend. unsparing nemesis, let loose your vengeance upon the thief who stole it! the rascals had even carried off the rope traces, and every loose article about the kibitka. notwithstanding this, however, i ought not to omit remarking the general security of travelling in russia and poland. the immense plains; the distance of habitations; the number of forests; the custom of travelling by night as well as by day; the negligence of all measures to ensure the safety of the roads, all contribute to favour robbery and murders; and yet an instance of either is scarcely known in years. it was difficult on those immense levels, which seemed independent of either general or individual proprietors, to recognise even the bounds of empires. the dwina, however, a natural boundary, rolls between russia and poland; and at vitepsk we entered the territories of what was once another kingdom. the surface of poland forms part of that immense and unvaried plain which constitutes the northern portion of all the central european countries. a great portion of this plain is overspread with a deep layer of sand, alternating however, with large clayey tracts and extensive marshes; a winter nearly as severe as that of sweden, and violent winds blowing uninterruptedly over this wide open region, are consequences of its physical structure and position. the roman arms never penetrated any part of this great level tract, the whole of which was called by them sarmatia; and sarmatia and scythia were in their descriptions always named together as the abode of nomadic and savage tribes. from the earliest era it appears to have been peopled by the sclavonic tribes; a race widely diffused, and distinguished by a peculiar language, by a strong national feeling, and by a particular train of superstitious ideas. though shepherds, they did not partake of the migratory character of the teutonic or tartar nations; and were long held in the most cruel bondage by the huns, the goths, and other nations of asia, for whom their country was a path to the conquest of the west of europe. in the tenth century the poles were a powerful and warlike nation. in the fourteenth lithuania was incorporated with it, and poland became one of the most powerful monarchies in europe. for two centuries it was the bulwark of christendom against the alarming invasions of the turks; the reigns of sigismund and sobieski hold a high place in military history; and, until the beginning of the last century, its martial character gave it a commanding influence in europe. it is unnecessary to trace the rapid and irrecoverable fall of poland. on the second partition, kosciusko, animated by his recent struggle for liberty in america, roused his countrymen to arms. but the feet of three giants were upon her breast; and suwarrow, marching upon the capital, storming the fortress of praga, and butchering in cold blood thirty thousand inhabitants, extinguished, apparently for ever, the rights and the glories of poland. living as we do apart from the rest of the world, with no national animosities transmitted by our fathers, it is impossible to realize the feeling of deadly hatred existing between neighbouring nations from the disputes of ancestors centuries ago. the history of russia and poland presents a continued series of bloodstained pages. battle after battle has nourished their mutual hate, and for a long time it had been the settled feeling of both that russia or poland must fall. it is perhaps fortunate for the rest of europe that this feeling has always existed; for, if they were united in heart, the whole south of europe would lie at the mercy of their invading armies. napoleon committed a fatal error in tampering with the brave and patriotic poles; for he might have rallied around him a nation of soldiers who, in gratitude, would have stood by him until they were exterminated. but to return to vitepsk. here, for the first time, we fell into the memorable road traversed by napoleon on his way to moscow. the town stands on the banks of the dwina, built on both sides of the river, and contains a population of about fifteen thousand, a great portion of whom are jews. in itself, it has but little to engage the attention of the traveller; but i strolled through its streets with extraordinary interest, remembering it as the place where napoleon decided on his fatal march to moscow. it was at the same season and on the very same day of the year that the "grand army," having traversed the gloomy forests of lithuania in pursuit of an invincible and intangible enemy, with the loss of more than a hundred thousand men, emerged from the last range of woods and halted at the presence of the hostile fires that covered the plain before the city. napoleon slept in his tent on an eminence at the left of the main road, and before sunrise appeared at the advanced posts, and by its first rays saw the russian army, eighty thousand strong, encamped on a high plain commanding all the avenues of the city. ten thousand horsemen made a show of defending its passes; and at about ten o'clock, murat le beau sabreur, intoxicated by the admiration his presence excited, at the head of a single regiment of chasseurs charged the whole russian cavalry. he was repulsed, and driven back to the foot of the hillock on which napoleon stood. the chasseurs of the french guards formed a circle around him, drove off the assailant lancers, and the emperor ordered the attack to cease; and, pointing to the city, his parting words to murat were, "to-morrow at five o'clock the sun of austerlitz." at daylight the camp of barclay de tolly was deserted; not a weapon, not a single valuable left behind; and a russian soldier asleep under a bush was the sole result of the day expected to be so decisive. vitepsk, except by a few miserable jews and jesuits, like the russian camp, was also abandoned. the emperor mounted his horse and rode through the deserted camp and desolate streets of the city. chagrined and mortified, he pitched his tents in an open courtyard; but, after a council of war with murat, eugene, and others of his principal officers, laid his sword upon the table, and resolved to finish in vitepsk the campaign of that year. well had it been for him had he never changed that determination. he traced his line of defence on the map, and explored vitepsk and its environs as a place where he was likely to make a long residence; formed establishments of all kinds; erected large ovens capable of baking at once thirty thousand loaves of bread; pulled down a range of stone houses which injured the appearance of the square of the palace, and made arrangements for opening the theatre with parisian actors. but in a few days he was observed to grow restless; the members of his household recollected his expression at the first view of the deserted vitepsk, "do you think i have come so far to conquer these miserable huts?" segur says that he was observed to wander about his apartments as if pursued by some dangerous temptation. nothing could rivet his attention. every moment he began, stopped, and resumed his labour. at length, overwhelmed with the importance of the considerations that agitated him, "he threw himself on the floor of his apartment; his frame, exhausted by the heat and the struggles of his mind, could only bear a covering of the slightest texture. he rose from his sleepless pillow possessed once more with the genius of war; his voice deepens, his eyes flash fire, and his countenance darkens. his attendants retreat from his presence, struck with mingled awe and respect. his plan is fixed, his determination taken, his order of march traced out." the last council occupied eight hours. berthier by a melancholy countenance, by lamentations, and even by tears; lobau by the cold and haughty frankness of a warrior; caulaincourt with obstinacy and impetuosity amounting to violence; duroc by a chilling silence, and afterward by stern replies; and daru straightforward and with firmness immoveable, opposed his going; but, as if driven on by that fate he almost defied, he broke up the council with the fatal determination. "blood has not been shed, and russia is too great to yield without fighting. alexander can only negotiate after a great battle. i will proceed to the holy city in search of that battle, and i will gain it. peace waits me at the gates of moscow." from that hour commenced that train of terrible disasters which finally drove him from the throne of france, and sent him to die an exile on a small island in the indian ocean. i walked out on the moscow road, by which the grand army, with pomp and martial music, with murat, and ney, and duroc, and daru, inspired by the great names of smolensk and moscow, plunged into a region of almost pathless forest, where most of them were destined to find a grave. i was at first surprised at the utter ignorance of the inhabitants of vitepsk, in regard to the circumstances attending the occupation of the city by napoleon. a jew was my cicerone, who talked of the great scenes of which this little city had in his own day been the theatre almost as matter of tradition, and without half the interest with which, even now, the greek points the stranger to the ruins of argos or the field of marathon; and this ignorance in regard to the only matters that give an interest to this dreary road i remarked during the whole journey. i was so unsuccessful in my questions, and the answers were so unsatisfactory, that my companion soon became tired of acting as my interpreter. indeed, as he said, he himself knew more than any one i met, for he had travelled it before in company with an uncle, of the polish legion; but even he was by no means familiar with the ground. we left vitepsk with a set of miserable horses, rode all night, and at noon of the next day were approaching the banks of the berezina, memorable for the dreadful passage which almost annihilated the wretched remnant of napoleon's army. it was impossible, in passing over the same ground, not to recur to the events of which it had been the scene. the "invincible legions," which left vitepsk two hundred thousand strong, were now fighting their dreadful retreat from moscow through regulars and cossacks, reduced to less than twelve thousand men marching in column, with a train of thirty thousand undisciplined followers, sick, wounded, and marauders of every description. the cavalry which crossed the niemen thirty-seven thousand in number was reduced to one hundred and fifty men on horseback. napoleon collected all the officers who remained mounted, and formed them into a body, in all about five hundred, which he called his sacred squadron; officers served as privates, and generals of divisions as captains. he ordered the carriages of the officers, many of the wagons, and even the eagles belonging to the different corps, to be burned in his presence; and drawing his sword, with the stern remark that he had sufficiently acted the emperor, and must once more play the general, marched on foot at the head of his old guard. he had hardly reorganized before the immense pine forests which border the berezina echoed with the thunder of the russian artillery; in a moment all remains of discipline were lost. in the last stage of weakness and confusion they were roused by loud cries before them, and, to their great surprise and joy, recognised the armies of victor and oudinot. the latter knew nothing of the terrible disasters of the army of moscow, and they were thrown into consternation and then melted to tears when they saw behind napoleon, instead of the invincible legions which had left them in splendid equipments, a train of gaunt and spectral figures, their faces black with dirt, and long bristly beards, covered with rags, female pelisses, pieces of carpet, with bare and bleeding feet, or bundled with rags, and colonels and generals marching pellmell with soldiers, unarmed and shameless, without any order or discipline, kept together and sleeping round the same fires only by the instinct of self-preservation. about noon we drove into the town of borizoff. it stands on the banks of the berezina, and is an old, irregular-looking place, with a heavy wooden church in the centre of an open square. as usual, at the door of the posthouse a group of jews gathered around us. when napoleon took possession of borizoff the jews were the only inhabitants who remained; and they, a scattered, wandering, and migratory people, without any attachment of soil or country, were ready to serve either the french or russians, according to the inducements held out to them. a few noble instances are recorded where this persecuted and degraded people exhibited a devotion to the land that sheltered them honourable to their race and to the character of man; but in general they were false and faithless. those who gathered around us in borizoff looked as though they might be the very people who betrayed the russians. one of them told us that a great battle had been fought there, but we could not find any who had been present at the fatal passage of the river. we dined at the posthouse, probably with less anxiety than was felt by napoleon or any of the flying frenchmen; but even we were not permitted to eat in peace; for, before we had finished, our vehicle was ready, with worse horses than usual, and a surlier postillion. we sent the postillion on ahead, and walked down to the bank of the river. on the night preceding the passage, napoleon himself had command of borizoff, with six thousand guards prepared for a desperate contest. he passed the whole night on his feet; and while waiting for the approach of daylight in one of the houses on the border of the river, so impracticable seemed the chance of crossing with the army that murat proposed to him to put himself under the escort of some brave and determined poles, and save himself while there was yet time; but the emperor indignantly rejected the proposition as a cowardly flight. the river is here very broad, and divided into branches. on the opposite side are the remains of an embankment that formed part of the russian fortifications. when the russians were driven out of borizoff by oudinot, they crossed the river, burned the bridge, and erected these embankments. besides the sanguinary contest of the french and russians, this river is also memorable for a great battle between my companion and our postillion. in the middle of the bridge the postillion stopped and waited till we came up; he grumbled loudly at being detained, to which my companion replied in his usual conciliatory and insinuating manner, by laying his cane over the fellow's shoulders; but on the bridge of borizoff the blood of the lithuanian was roused; and, perhaps, urged on by the memory of the deeds done there by his fathers, he sprang out of the wagon, and with a warcry that would not have disgraced a cossack of the don, rushed furiously upon my friend. oh for a homer to celebrate that fight on the bridge of borizoff! the warriors met, not like grecian heroes, with spear and shield, and clad in steel, but with their naked fists and faces bare to take the blows. my friend was a sublime spectacle. like a rock, firm and immoveable, he stood and met the charge of the postillion; in short, in the twinkling of an eye he knocked the postillion down. those who know say that it is more trying to walk over a field of battle after all is over than to be in the fight; and i believe it from my experience in our trying passage of the berezina; for, when i picked up the discomfited postillion, whose face was covered with blood, i believe that i had the worst of it. all great victories are tested by their results, and nothing could be more decisive than that over the postillion. he arose a wiser and much more tractable man. at first he looked very stupid when he saw me leaning over him, and very startled when he rubbed his hand over his face and saw it stained with blood; but, raising himself, he caught sight of his victor, and without a word got into the wagon, walked the horses over the bridge, and at the other end got out and threw himself on the ground. it was a beautiful afternoon, and we lingered on the bridge. crossing it, we walked up the bank on the opposite side toward the place where napoleon erected his bridges for the passage of his army. all night the french worked at the bridges by the light of the enemy's fires on the opposite side. at daylight the fires were abandoned, and the russians, supposing the attempt here to be a feint, were seen in full retreat. the emperor, impatient to get possession of the opposite bank, pointed it out to the bravest. a french aiddecamp and lithuanian count threw themselves into the river, and, in spite of the ice, which cut their horses' breasts, reached the opposite bank in safety. about one o'clock the bank on which we stood was entirely cleared of cossacks, and the bridge for the infantry was finished. the first division crossed it rapidly with its cannon, the men shouting "_vive l'empereur!_" the passage occupied three days. the number of stragglers and the quantity of baggage were immense. on the night of the twenty-seventh the stragglers left the bridge, tore down the whole village, and made fires with the materials, around which they crouched their shivering figures, and from which it was impossible to tear themselves away. at daylight they were roused by the report of witgenstein's cannon thundering over their heads, and again all rushed tumultuously to the bridges. the russians, with platow and his cossacks, were now in full communication on both sides of the river. on the left bank, napoleon's own presence of mind and the bravery of his soldiers gave him a decided superiority; but, in the language of scott, the scene on the right bank had become the wildest and most horrible which war can exhibit. "victor, with eight or ten thousand men, covered the retreat over the bridges, while behind his line thousands of stragglers, old men, women, and children, were wandering by the side of this river like the fabled spectres which throng the banks of the infernal styx, seeking in vain for passage. the balls of the russians began to fall among the disordered mass, and the whole body rushed like distracted beings toward the bridges, every feeling of prudence or humanity swallowed up by the animal instinct of self-preservation. the weak and helpless either shrunk from the fray and sat down to wait their fate at a distance, or, mixing in it, were thrust over the bridges, crushed under carriages, cut down with sabres, or trampled to death under the feet of their countrymen. all this while the action continued with fury; and, as if the heavens meant to match their wrath with that of man, a hurricane arose and added terrors to a scene which was already of a character so dreadful. about midday the larger bridge, constructed for artillery and heavy carriages, broke down, and multitudes were forced into the water. the scream of the despairing multitude became at this crisis for a moment so universal, that it rose shrilly above the wild whistling of the tempest and the sustained and redoubled hourras of the cossacks. the dreadful scene continued till dark. as the obscurity came on, victor abandoned the station he had defended so bravely, and led the remnant of his troops in their turn across. all night the miscellaneous multitude continued to throng across the bridge under the fire of the russian artillery. at daybreak the french engineers finally set fire to the bridge, and all that remained on the other side, including many prisoners, and a great quantity of guns and baggage, became the property of the russians. the amount of the french loss was never exactly known; but the russian report concerning the bodies of the invaders, which were collected and burned as soon as the thaw permitted, states that upward of thirty-six thousand were found in the berezina." the whole of this scene was familiar to me as matter of history; the passage of the berezina had in some way fastened itself upon my mind as one of the most fearful scenes in the annals of war; and, besides this, at st. petersburgh the colonel and prince had given me a detailed account of the horrors of that dreadful night, for they were both with witgenstein's army, by the light of the snow, the course of the river, and the noise, directing a murderous fire of artillery against the dark mass moving over the bridge; and nearer still, my companion had visited the place in company with his uncle, of the polish legion, and repeated to me the circumstances of individual horror which he had heard from his relative, surpassing human belief. the reader will excuse me if i have lingered too long on the banks of that river; and perhaps, too, he will excuse me when i tell him that, before leaving it, i walked down to its brink and bathed my face in its waters. others have done so at the classic streams of italy and greece; but i rolled over the arno and the tiber in a vetturino without stopping, and the reader will remember that i jumped over the ilissus. chapter x. travel by night.--a rencounter.--a traveller's message.--lithuania.--poverty of the country.--agricultural implements.--minsk.--polish jews.--a coin of freedom.--riding in a basket.--brezc.--the bug.--a searching operation.--women labourers.--warsaw. it was after dark when we returned to our wagon, still standing at the end of the bridge opposite borizoff. our postillion, like a sensible man, had lain down to sleep at the head of his horses, so they could not move without treading on him and waking him; and, when we roused him, the pain of his beating was over, and with it all sense of the indignity; and, in fact, we made him very grateful for the flogging by promising him a few additional kopeks. we hauled up the straw and seated ourselves in the bottom of our kibitka. night closed upon us amid the gloomy forests bordering the banks of the berezina. we talked for a little while, and by degrees drawing our cloaks around us, each fell into a revery. the continued tinkling of the bell, which, on my first entering russia, grated on my ear, had become agreeable to me, and in a dark night particularly was a pleasing sound. the song of the postillion, too, harmonized with the repose of spirit at that moment most grateful to us; that too died away, the bell almost ceased its tinkling, and, in spite of the alarum of war which we had all day been ringing in our own ears, we should probably soon have fallen into a sleep as sound, for a little while at least, as that of them who slept under the waters of the berezina, but we were suddenly roused by a shock as alarming to quiet travellers as the hourra of the cossack in the ears of the flying frenchmen. our horses sprang out of the road, but not in time to avoid a concussion with another wagon going toward borizoff. both postillions were thrown off their seats; and the stranger, picking himself up, came at us with a stream of lithuanian russian almost harsh enough to frighten the horses. i will not suggest what its effect was upon us, but only that, as to myself, it seemed at first equal to the voice of at least a dozen freebooters and marauders; and if the english of it had been "stand and deliver," i should probably have given up my carpet-bag without asking to reserve a change of linen. but i was restored by the return fire of our postillion, who drowned completely the attack of his adversary by his outrageous clamour; and when he stopped to take breath my companion followed up the defence, and this brought out a fourth voice from the bottom of the opposite wagon. a truce was called, and waiving the question on which side the fault lay, we all got out to ascertain the damage. our antagonist passenger was a german merchant, used to roughing it twice every year between berlin, warsaw, petersburgh, and moscow, and took our smashing together at night in this desolate forest as coolly as a rub of the shoulders in the streets; and, when satisfied that his wagon was not injured, kindly asked us if we had any bones broken. we returned his kind inquiries; and, after farther interchanges of politeness, he said that he was happy to make our acquaintance, and invited us to come and see him at berlin. we wanted him to go back and let us have a look at him by torchlight, but he declined; and, after feeling him stretched out in his bed in the bottom of his wagon, we started him on his way. we resumed our own places, and, without dozing again, arrived at the posthouse, where first of all we made ourselves agreeable to the postmaster by delivering our german friend's message to him, that he ought to be whipped and condemned to live where he was till he was a hundred years old for putting the neck of a traveller at the mercy of a sleepy postillion; but the postmaster was a jew, and thought the vile place where he lived equal to any on earth. he was a miserable, squalid-looking object, with a pine torch in his hand lighting up the poverty and filthiness of his wretched habitation, and confessed that he should be too happy to enjoy the fortune which the german would have entailed upon him as a curse. he offered to make us a bed of some dirty straw which had often been slept on before; but we shrank from it; and, as soon as we could get horses, returned to our kibitka and resumed our journey. the whole province of lithuania is much the same in appearance. we lost nothing by travelling through it at night; indeed, every step that we advanced was a decided gain, as it brought us so much nearer its farthermost border. the vast provinces of lithuania, formerly a part of the kingdom of poland, and, since the partition of that unhappy country, subject to the throne of russia, until the fourteenth century were independent of either. the lithuanians and samogitians are supposed to be of a different race from the poles, and spoke a language widely dissimilar to the polish or russian. their religion was a strange idolatry; they worshipped the god of thunder, and paid homage to a god of the harvest; they maintained priests, who were constantly feeding a sacred fire in honour of the god of the seasons; they worshipped trees, fountains, and plants; had sacred serpents, and believed in guardian spirits of trees, cattle, &c. their government, like that of all other barbarous nations, was despotic, and the nobles were less numerous and more tyrannical than in poland. in the latter part of the fourteenth century, on the death of louis, successor to casimir the great, hedwiga was called to the throne of poland, under a stipulation, however, that she should follow the will of the poles in the choice of her husband. many candidates offered themselves for the hand dowered with a kingdom; but the offers of jagellon, duke of lithuania, were most tempting; he promised to unite his extensive dominions to the territory of poland, and pledged himself for the conversion to christianity of his lithuanian subjects. but queens are not free from the infirmities of human nature; and hedwiga had fixed her affections upon her cousin, william of austria, whom she had invited into poland; and when jagellon came to take possession of his wife and crown, she refused to see him. the nobles, however, sent william back to his papa, and locked her up as if she had been a boarding-school miss. and again, queens are not free from the infirmities of human nature: hedwiga was inconstant; the handsome lithuanian made her forget her first love, and poland and lithuania were united under one crown. jagellon was baptized, but the inhabitants of lithuania did not so readily embrace the christian religion; in one of the provinces they clung for a long time to their own strange and wild superstitions; and even in modern times, it is said, the peasants long obstinately refused to use ploughs or other agricultural instruments furnished with iron, for fear of wounding the bosom of mother earth. all the way from borizoff the road passes through a country but little cultivated, dreary, and covered with forests. when napoleon entered the province of lithuania his first bulletins proclaimed, "here, then, is that russia so formidable at a distance! it is a desert for which its scattered population is wholly insufficient. they will be vanquished by the very extent of territory which ought to defend them;" and, before i had travelled in it a day, i could appreciate the feeling of the soldier from la belle france, who, hearing his polish comrades boast of their country, exclaimed, "et ces gueux la appellent cette pays une patrie!" the villages are a miserable collection of straggling huts, without plan or arrangement, and separated from each other by large spaces of ground. they are about ten or twelve feet square, made of the misshapen trunks of trees heaped on each other, with the ends projecting over; the roof of large shapeless boards, and the window a small hole in the wall, answering the double purpose of admitting light and letting out smoke. the tenants of these wretched hovels exhibit the same miserable appearance both in person and manners. they are hard-boned and sallow-complexioned; the men wear coarse white woollen frocks, and a round felt cap lined with wool, and shoes made of the bark of trees, and their uncombed hair hangs low over their heads, generally of a flaxen colour. their agricultural implements are of the rudest kind. the plough and harrow are made from the branches of the fir tree, without either iron or ropes; their carts are put together without iron, consisting of four small wheels, each of a single piece of wood; the sides are made of the bark of a tree bent round, and the shafts are a couple of fir branches; their bridles and traces platted from the bark of trees, or composed merely of twisted branches. their only instrument to construct their huts and make their carts is a hatchet. they were servile and cringing in their expressions of respect, bowing down to the ground and stopping their carts as soon as we came near them, and stood with their caps in their hands till we were out of sight. the whole country, except in some open places around villages, is one immense forest of firs, perhaps sixty feet in height, compact and thick, but very slender. as we approached minsk the road was sandy, and we entered by a wooden bridge over a small stream and along an avenue of trees. minsk is one of the better class of lithuanian towns, being the chief town of the government of minsk, but very dirty and irregular. the principal street terminates in a large open square of grass and mean wooden huts. from this another street goes off at right angles, containing large houses, and joining with a second square, where some of the principal buildings are of brick. from this square several streets branch off, and enter a crowd of wooden hovels irregularly huddled together, and covering a large space of ground. the churches are heavily constructed, and in a style peculiar to lithuania, their gable ends fronting the street, and terminated at each corner by a square spire, with a low dome between them. the population is half catholic and half jewish, and the jews are of the most filthy and abject class. a few words with regard to the jews in poland. from the moment of crossing the borders of lithuania, i had remarked in every town and village swarms of people differing entirely from the other inhabitants in physical appearance and costume, and in whose sharply-drawn features, long beards, and flowing dresses, with the coal-black eyes and oriental costumes of the women, i at once recognised the dispersed and wandering children of israel. on the second destruction of jerusalem, when the roman general drove a plough over the site of the temple of solomon, the political existence of the jewish nation was annihilated, their land was portioned out among strangers, and the descendants of abraham were forbidden to pollute with their presence the holy city of their fathers. in the roman territories, their petition for the reduction of taxation received the stern answer of the roman, "ye demand exemption from tribute for your soil; i will lay it on the air you breathe;" and, in the words of the historian, "dispersed and vagabond, exiled from their native soil and air, they wander over the face of the earth without a king, either human or divine, and even as strangers they are not permitted to salute with their footsteps their native land." history furnishes no precise records of the emigration or of the first settlement of the israelites in the different countries of europe; but for centuries they have been found dispersed, as it was foretold they would be, over the whole habitable world, a strange, unsocial, and isolated people, a living and continued miracle. at this day they are found in all the civilized countries of europe and america, in the wildest regions of asia and africa, and even within the walls of china; but, after palestine, poland is regarded as their land of promise; and there they present a more extraordinary spectacle than in any country where their race is known. centuries have rolled on, revolutions have convulsed the globe, new and strange opinions have disturbed the human race, but the polish jew remains unchanged: the same as the dark superstition of the middle ages made him; the same in his outward appearance and internal dispositions, in his physical and moral condition, as when he fled thither for refuge from the swords of the crusaders. as early as the fourteenth century, great privileges were secured to the jews by casimir the great, who styled them his "faithful and able subjects," induced, according to the chronicles of the times, like ahasuerus of old, by the love of a beautiful esther. while in germany, italy, spain, portugal, and even in england and france, their whole history is that of one continued persecution, oppressed by the nobles, anathematized by the clergy, despised and abhorred by the populace, flying from city to city, arrested, and tortured, and burned alive, and sometimes destroying themselves by thousands to escape horrors worse than death; while all orders were arrayed in fierce and implacable hatred against them, in poland the race of israel found rest; and there they remain at this day, after centuries of residence, still a distinct people, strangers and sojourners in the land, mingling with their neighbours in the every-day business of life, but never mingling their blood; the direct descendants of the israelites who, three thousand years ago, went out from the land of egypt; speaking the same language, and practising the laws delivered to moses on the mountain of sinai; mourning over their fallen temple, and still looking for the messiah who shall bring together their scattered nation and restore their temporal kingdom. but notwithstanding the interest of their history and position, the polish jews are far from being an interesting people; they swarm about the villages and towns, intent on gain, and monopolizing all the petty traffic of the country. outward degradation has worked inward upon their minds; confined to base and sordid occupations, their thoughts and feelings are contracted to their stations, and the despised have become despicable. it was principally in his capacity of innkeeper that i became acquainted with the polish jew. the inn is generally a miserable hovel communicating with, or a room partitioned off in one corner of, a large shed serving as a stable and yard for vehicles; the entrance is under a low porch of timber; the floor is of dirt; the furniture consists of a long table, or two or three small ones, and in one corner a bunch of straw, or sometimes a few raised boards formed into a platform, with straw spread over it, for beds; at one end a narrow door leads into a sort of hole filled with dirty beds, old women, half-grown boys and girls, and children not overburdened with garments, and so filthy that, however fatigued, i never felt disposed to venture among them for rest. here the jew, assisted by a dirty-faced rachel, with a keen and anxious look, passes his whole day in serving out to the meanest customers beer, and hay, and corn; wrangling with and extorting money from intoxicated peasants; and, it is said, sometimes, after the day's drudgery is over, retires at night to his miserable hole to pore over the ponderous volumes filled with rabbinical lore; or sometimes his mind takes a higher flight, meditating upon the nature of the human soul; its relation to the divinity; the connexion between the spirit and the body; and indulging in the visionary hope of gaining, by means of cabalistic formula, command over the spirits of the air, the fire, the flood, and the earth. though the days of bitter persecution and hatred have gone by, the jews are still objects of contempt and loathing. once i remember pointing out to my postillion a beautiful jewish girl, and, with the fanatic spirit of the middle ages, himself one of the most degraded serfs in poland, he scorned the idea of marrying the fair daughter of israel. but this the jew does not regard; all he asks is to be secured from the active enmity of mankind. "like the haughty roman banished from the world, the israelite throws back the sentence of banishment, and still retreats to the lofty conviction that his race is not excluded as an unworthy, but kept apart as a sacred, people; humiliated, indeed, but still hallowed, and reserved for the sure though tardy fulfilment of the divine promises." the jews in poland are still excluded from all offices and honours, and from all the privileges and distinctions of social life. until the accession of nicolas, they were exempted from military service on payment of a tax; but since his time they have been subject to the regular conscription. they regard this as an alarming act of oppression, for the boys are taken from their families at twelve or thirteen, and sent to the army or the common military school, where they imbibe notions utterly at variance with the principles taught them by their fathers; and, probably, if the system continues, another generation will work a great change in the character of the jews of poland. but to return to the jews at minsk. as usual, they gathered around us before we were out of our kibitka, laid hold of our baggage, and in hebrew, lithuanian, and polish, were clamorous in offers of service. they were spare in figure, dressed in high fur caps and long black muslin gowns, shining and glossy from long use and tied around the waist with a sash; and here i remarked what has often been remarked by other travellers, when the features were at rest, a style of face and expression resembling the pictures of the saviour in the galleries in italy. while my companion was arranging for posthorses and dinner, i strolled through the town alone, that is, with a dozen israelites at my heels and on my return i found an accession of the stiff-necked and unbelieving race, one of whom arrested my attention by thrusting before me a silver coin. it was not an antique, but it had in my eyes a greater value than if it had been dug from the ruins of a buried city, and bore the image of julius cæsar. on the breaking out of the late revolution, one of the first acts of sovereignty exercised by the provincial government was to issue a national coin stamped with the arms of the old kingdom of poland, the white eagle and the armed cavalier, with an inscription around the rim, "god protect poland." when the revolution was crushed, with the view of destroying in the minds of the poles every memento of their brief but glorious moment of liberty, this coin was called in and suppressed, and another substituted in its place, with the polish eagle, by way of insult, stamped in a small character near the tip end of the wing of the double-headed eagle of russia. the coin offered me by the jew was one of the emission of the revolution, and my companion told me it was a rare thing to find one. i bought it at the jew's price, and put it in my pocket as a memorial of a brave and fallen people. i will not inflict upon the reader the particulars of our journey through this dreary and uninteresting country. we travelled constantly, except when we were detained for horses. we never stopped at night, for there seldom was any shelter on the road better than the jews' inns, and even in our kibitka we were better than there. but, unluckily, on the seventh day, our kibitka broke down; the off hind wheel snapped in pieces, and let us down rather suddenly in one of the autocrat's forests. our first impulse was to congratulate ourselves that this accident happened in daylight; and we had a narrow escape, for the sun had hardly begun to find its way into the dark forest. fortunately, too, we were but two or three versts from a posthouse. i had met with such accidents at home, and rigged a small tree (there being no such things as rails, property there not being divided by rail fences) under the hind axle, supporting it on the front. we lighted our pipes and escorted our crippled vehicle to the posthouse, where we bought a wheel off another wagon, much better than the old one, only about two inches lower. this, however, was not so bad as might be supposed, at least for me, who sat on the upper side, and had the stout figure of my companion as a leaning-post. at sloghan, about two hundred versts from brezc the frontier town of poland, we sold our kibitka for a breakfast, and took the _char de pôste_, or regular troika. this is the postboy's favourite vehicle; the body being made of twigs interlaced like a long basket, without a particle of iron, and so light that a man can lift up either end with one hand. our speed was increased wonderfully by the change; the horses fairly played with the little car at their heels; the drivers vied with each other, and several posts in succession we made nearly twenty versts in an hour. it will probably be difficult to throw the charm of romance around the troika driver; but he comes from the flower of the peasantry; his life, passed on the wild highways, is not without its vicissitudes, and he is made the hero of the russian's favourite popular ballads: "away, away, along the road the gallant troika bounds; while 'neath the douga, sadly sweet, their valdai bell resounds."[ ] we passed the house of a _very respectable_ seigneur who had married his own sister. we stopped at his village and talked of him with the postmaster, by whom he was considered a model of the domestic virtues. the same day we passed the chateau of a nobleman who wrote himself cousin to the emperors of russia and austria, confiscated for the part he took in the late polish revolution, a melancholy-looking object, deserted and falling to ruins, its owner wandering in exile with a price upon his head. it rained hard during the day, for the first time since we left petersburgh; at night the rain ceased, but the sky was still overcast. for a long distance, and, in fact, a great part of the way from petersburgh, the road was bordered with trees. at eleven o'clock we stopped at a wretched posthouse, boiled water, and refreshed ourselves with deep potations of hot tea. we mounted our troika, the postillion shouted, and set off on a run. heavy clouds were hanging in the sky; it was so dark that we could not see the horses, and there was some little danger of a breakdown; but there was a high and wild excitement in hurrying swiftly through the darkness on a run, hearing the quick tinkling of the bell and the regular fall of the horses' hoofs, and seeing only the dark outline of the trees. we continued this way all night, and toward morning we were rattling on a full gallop through the streets of brezc. we drove into a large stable-yard filled with kibitkas, troikas, and all kinds of russian vehicles, at one end of which was a long low building kept by a jew. we dismounted, and so ended nearly three thousand miles of posting in russia. the jew, roused by our noise, was already at the door with a lighted taper in his hand, and gave us a room with a leather-covered sofa and a leather cushion for a pillow, where we slept till eleven o'clock the next day. we breakfasted, and in the midst of a violent rain crossed the bug, and entered the territory of poland proper. for many centuries the banks of the bug have been the battle-ground of the russians and poles. in the time of boleslaus the terrible, the russians were defeated there with great slaughter, and the river was so stained with blood that it has retained ever since the name of the _horrid_. before crossing we were obliged to exchange our russian money for polish, rubles for florins, losing, of course, heavily by the operation, besides being subjected to the bore of studying a new currency; and the moment we planted our feet on the conquered territory, though now nominally under the same government, we were obliged to submit to a most vexatious process. the custom-house stood at the end of the bridge, and, as matter of course, our postillion stopped there. our luggage was taken off the wagon, carried inside, every article taken out and laid on the floor, and a russian soldier stood over, comparing them with a list of prohibited articles as long as my arm. fortunately for me, the russian government had not prohibited travellers from wearing pantaloons and shirts in poland, though it came near faring hard with a morning-gown. my companion, however, suffered terribly; his wearing apparel was all laid out on one side, while a large collection of curious and pretty nothings, which he had got together with great affection at the capital, as memorials for his friends at home, were laid out separately, boxes opened, papers unrolled, and, with provoking deliberation, examined according to the list of prohibited things. it was a new and despotic regulation unknown to him, and he looked on in agony, every condemned article being just the one above all others which he would have saved; and when they had finished, a large pile was retained for the examination of another officer, to be sent on to warsaw in case of their being allowed to pass at all. i had frequently regretted having allowed the trouble and inconvenience to prevent my picking up curiosities; but when i saw the treasures of my friend taken from him, or, at least, detained for an uncertain time, i congratulated myself upon my good fortune. my friend was a man not easily disheartened; he had even got over the loss of his love at st. petersburgh; but he would rather have been turned adrift in poland without his pantaloons than be stripped of his precious bawbles. i had seen him roused several times on the road, quarrelling with postmasters and thumping postillions, but i had never before seen the full development of that extraordinary head of hair. he ground his teeth and cursed the whole russian nation, from the emperor nicolas down to the soldier at the custom-house. he was ripe for revolution, and, if a new standard of rebellion had been set up in poland, he would have hurried to range himself under its folds. i soothed him by striking the key-note of his heart. all the way from petersburgh he had sat mechanically, with his pocket-glass and brush, dressing his mustaches; but his heart was not in the work, until, as we approached the borders of poland, he began to recover from his petersburgh affair, and to talk of the beauty of the polish women. i turned him to this now. it is a fact that, while for ages a deadly hatred has existed between the russians and the poles, and while the russians are at this day lording it over the poles with the most arbitrary insolence and tyranny, beauty still asserts its lawful supremacy, and the polish women bring to their feet the conquerors of their fathers, and husbands, and brothers. the first posthouse at which we stopped confirmed all that my companion had said; for the postmaster's daughter was brilliantly beautiful, particularly in the melting wildness of a dark eye, indicating an asiatic or tartar origin; and her gentle influence was exerted in soothing the savage humour of my friend, for she sympathized in his misfortunes, and the more sincerely when she heard of the combs, and rings, and slippers, and other pretty little ornaments for sisters and female friends at home; and my pole could not resist the sympathy of a pretty woman. we had scarcely left the postmaster's daughter, on the threshold of poland, almost throwing a romance about the polish women, before i saw the most degrading spectacle i ever beheld in europe, or even in the barbarous countries of the east. forty or fifty women were at work in the fields, and a large, well-dressed man, with a pipe in his mouth and a long stick in his hand, was walking among them as overseer. in our country the most common labouring man would revolt at the idea of his wife or daughter working in the open fields. i had seen it, however, in gallant france and beautiful italy; but i never saw, even in the barbarous countries of the east, so degrading a spectacle as this; and i could have borne it almost anywhere better than in chivalric poland. we were now in the territory called poland proper, that is, in that part which, after the other provinces had been wrested away and attached to the dominions of the colossal powers around, until the revolution and conquest of had retained the cherished name of the kingdom of poland. the whole road is macadamized, smooth and level as a floor, from the banks of the bug to warsaw; the posthouses and postmasters are much better, and posting is better regulated, though more expensive. the road lay through that rich agricultural district which had for ages made poland celebrated as the granary of europe; and though the face of the country was perfectly flat, and the scenery tame and uninteresting, the soil was rich, and, at that time, in many places teeming with heavy crops. as yet, it had not recovered from the desolating effects of the war of the revolution. the whole road has been a battle-ground, over which the poles had chased the russians to the frontier, and been driven back to warsaw; time after time it had been drenched with russian and polish blood, the houses and villages sacked and burned, and their blackened ruins still cumbered the ground, nursing in the conquered but unsubdued pole his deep, undying hatred of the russians. on this road diebitsch, the crosser of the balkan, at the head of eighty thousand men, advanced to warsaw. his right and left wings manoeuvred to join him at siedler, the principal town, through which we passed. we changed horses three times, and rolled on all night without stopping. in the morning my companion pointed out an old oak, where a distinguished colonel of the revolution, drawing up the fourth polish regiment against the imperial guards, with a feeling of mortal hate commanded them to throw away their primings, and charge with the bayonet, "coeur à coeur." in another place five hundred gentlemen, dressed in black, with pumps, silk stockings, and small swords, in a perfect wantonness of pleasure at fighting with the russians, and, as they said, in the same spirit with which they would go to a ball, threw themselves upon a body of the guards, and, after the most desperate fighting, were cut to pieces to a man. farther on, a little off from the road, on the borders of the field of grokow, was a large mound covered with black crosses, thrown up over the graves of the poles who had fallen there. about eleven o'clock we approached the banks of the vistula. we passed the suburbs of praga, the last battle-ground of kosciusko, where the bloodstained suwarrow butchered in cold blood thirty thousand poles. warsaw lay spread out on the opposite bank of the river, the heroic but fallen capital of poland, the city of brave men and beautiful women; of stanislaus, and sobieski, and poniatowsky, and kosciusko, and, i will not withhold it, possessing in my eyes, a romantic interest from its associations with the hero of my schoolboy days, thaddeus of warsaw. on the right is the chateau of the old kings of poland, now occupied by a russian viceroy, with the banner of russia waving over its walls. we rode over the bridge and entered the city. martial music was sounding, and russian soldiers, cossacks, and circassians were filing through its streets. we held up to let them pass, and they moved like the keepers of a conquered city, with bent brows and stern faces, while the citizens looked at them in gloomy silence. we drove up to the hotel de leipsic (which, however, i do not recommend), where i took a bath and a doctor. footnote: [ ] the douga is the bow over the neck of the middle horse, to which the bell is attached; and valdai the place on the moscow road where the best bells are made. chapter xi. warsaw.--a polish doctor.--battle of grokow.--the outbreak.--the fatal issue.--present condition of poland.--polish exiles.--aspect of warsaw.--traits of the poles. a letter dated at warsaw to my friends at home begins thus: "i have reached this place to be put on my back by a polish doctor. how long he will keep me here i do not know. he promises to set me going again in a week; and, as he has plenty of patients without keeping me down, i have great confidence in him. besides, having weathered a greek, an armenian, and a russian, i think i shall be too much for a pole." there was not a servant in the house who understood any language i spoke, and my friend kindly proposed my taking a room with him; and, as he had many acquaintances in warsaw, who thronged to see him, he had to tell them all the history of the american in the bed in one corner. all the next day i lay in the room alone on a low bedstead, looking up at the ceiling and counting the cracks in the wall. i was saved from a fit of the blues by falling into a passion, and throwing my boots at the servant because he could not understand me. late in the evening my friend returned from the theatre with three or four companions, and we made a night of it, i taking medicine and they smoking pipes. they were all excellent fellows, and, as soon as they heard me moving, came over to me, and, when i fell back on my pillow, covered me up, and went back, and talked till i wanted them again. toward daylight i fell asleep, and, when the doctor came in the morning, felt myself a new man. my doctor, by-the-way, was not a pole, but a german, physician to the court, and the first in warsaw; he occupied a little country-seat a few miles from warsaw, belonging to count niemcewicz, the poet and patriot, who accompanied kosciusko to this country, and married a lady of new-jersey; returned with him to poland, was with him on his last battle-field, and almost cut to pieces by his side. in the afternoon one of my companions of the night before came to see me. he had been in warsaw during the revolution, and talked with enthusiasm of their brief but gallant struggle; and, as it was a beautiful afternoon, proposed strolling to a little eminence near at hand, commanding a view of the first battle-ground. i went with him and he pointed out on the other side of the vistula the field of grokow. below it was the bridge over which general romarino carried his little army during the night, having covered the bridge, the horses' hoofs, and the wheels of the carriages with straw. this general is now in france under sentence of death, with a price set upon his head. the battle of grokow, the greatest in europe since that of waterloo, was fought on the twenty-fifth of february, , and the place where i stood commanded a view of the whole ground. the russian army was under the command of diebitsch, and consisted of one hundred and forty-two thousand infantry, forty thousand cavalry, and three hundred and twelve pieces of cannon. this enormous force was arranged in two lines of combatants, and a third of reserve. its left wing, between wavre and the marshes of the vistula, consisted of four divisions of infantry of forty-seven thousand men, three of cavalry of ten thousand five hundred, and one hundred and eight pieces of cannon; the right consisted of three and a half divisions of infantry of thirty-one thousand men, four divisions of cavalry of fifteen thousand seven hundred and fifty men, and fifty-two pieces of cannon. upon the borders of the great forest opposite the forest of elders, conspicuous from where i stood, was placed the reserve, commanded by the grand-duke constantine. against this immense army the poles opposed less than fifty thousand men and a hundred pieces of cannon, under the command of general skrzynecki. at break of day the whole force of the russian right wing, with a terrible fire of fifty pieces of artillery and columns of infantry, charged the polish left with the determination of carrying it by a single and overpowering effort. the poles, with six thousand five hundred men and twelve pieces of artillery, not yielding a foot of ground, and knowing they could hope for no succour, resisted this attack for several hours, until the russians slackened their fire. about ten o'clock the plain was suddenly covered with the russian forces issuing from the cover of the forest, seeming one undivided mass of troops. two hundred pieces of cannon, posted on a single line, commenced a fire which made the earth tremble, and was more terrible than the oldest officers, many of whom had fought at marengo and austerlitz, had ever beheld. the russians now made an attack upon the right wing; but foiled in this as upon the left, diebitsch directed the strength of his army against the forest of elders, hoping to divide the poles into two parts. one hundred and twenty pieces of cannon were brought to bear on this one point, and fifty battalions, incessantly pushed to the attack, kept up a scene of massacre unheard of in the annals of war. a polish officer who was in the battle told me that the small streams which intersected the forest were so choked with dead that the infantry marched directly over their bodies. the heroic poles, with twelve battalions, for four hours defended the forest against the tremendous attack. nine times they were driven out, and nine times, by a series of admirably-executed manoeuvres, they repulsed the russians with immense loss. batteries, now concentrated in one point, were in a moment hurried to another, and the artillery advanced to the charge like cavalry, sometimes within a hundred feet of the enemy's columns, and there opened a murderous fire of grape. at three o'clock the generals, many of whom were wounded, and most of whom had their horses shot under them, and fought on foot at the head of their divisions, resolved upon a retrograde movement, so as to draw the russians on the open plain. diebitsch, supposing it to be a flight, looked over to the city and exclaimed, "well, then, it appears that, after this bloody day, i shall take tea in the belvidere palace." the russian troops debouched from the forest. a cloud of russian cavalry, with several regiments of heavy cuirassiers at their head, advanced to the attack. colonel pientka, who had kept up an unremitting fire from his battery for five hours, seated with perfect sang-froid upon a disabled piece of cannon, remained to give another effective fire, then left at full gallop a post which he had so long occupied under the terrible fire of the enemy's artillery. this rapid movement of his battery animated the russian forces. the cavalry advanced on a trot upon the line of a battery of rockets. a terrible discharge was poured into their ranks, and the horses, galled to madness by the flakes of fire, became wholly ungovernable, and broke away, spreading disorder in every direction; the whole body swept helplessly along the fire of the polish infantry, and in a few minutes was so completely annihilated that, of a regiment of cuirassiers who bore inscribed on their helmets the "invincibles," not a man escaped. the wreck of the routed cavalry, pursued by the lancers, carried along in its flight the columns of infantry; a general retreat commenced, and the cry of "poland for ever" reached the walls of warsaw to cheer the hearts of its anxious inhabitants. so terrible was the fire of that day, that in the polish army there was not a single general or staff officer who had not his horse killed or wounded under him; two thirds of the officers, and, perhaps, of the soldiers, had their clothes pierced with balls, and more than a tenth part of the army were wounded. thirty thousand russians and ten thousand poles were left on the field of battle; rank upon rank lay prostrate on the earth, and the forest of elders was so strewed with bodies that it received from that day the name of the "forest of the dead." the czar heard with dismay, and all europe with astonishment, that the crosser of the balkan had been foiled under the walls of warsaw. all day, my companion said, the cannonading was terrible. crowds of citizens, of both sexes and all ages, were assembled on the spot where we stood, earnestly watching the progress of the battle, sharing in all its vicissitudes, in the highest state of excitement as the clearing up of the columns of smoke showed when the russians or the poles had fled; and he described the entry of the remnant of the polish army into warsaw as sublime and terrible; their hair and faces were begrimed with powder and blood; their armour shattered and broken, and all, even dying men, were singing patriotic songs; and when the fourth regiment, among whom was a brother of my companion, and who had particularly distinguished themselves in the battle, crossed the bridge and filed slowly through the streets, their lances shivered against the cuirasses of the guards, their helmets broken, their faces black and spotted with blood, some erect, some tottering, and some barely able to sustain themselves in the saddle, above the stern chorus of patriotic songs rose the distracted cries of mothers, wives, daughters, and lovers, seeking among this broken band for forms dearer than life, many of whom were then sleeping on the battle-field. my companion told me that he was then a lad of seventeen, and had begged with tears to be allowed to accompany his brother; but his widowed mother extorted from him a promise that he would not attempt it. all day he had stood with his mother on the very spot where we did, his hand in hers, which she grasped convulsively, as every peal of cannon seemed the knell of her son; and when the lancers passed, she sprang from his side as she recognised in the drooping figure of an officer, with his spear broken in his hand, the figure of her gallant boy. he was then reeling in his saddle, his eye was glazed and vacant, and he died that night in their arms. the tyranny of the grand-duke constantine, the imperial viceroy, added to the hatred of the russians, which is the birthright of every pole, induced the unhappy revolution of eighteen hundred and thirty. although, on the death of alexander, constantine waived in favour of his brother nicolas his claim to the throne of russia, his rule in poland shows that it was not from any aversion to the exercise of power. when constantine was appointed its commander-in-chief, the polish army ranked with the bravest in europe. the polish legions under dombrowski and poniatowski had kept alive the recollections of the military glory of their fallen nation. almost annihilated by the bloody battles in italy, where they met their old enemies under suwarrow, the butcher of praga, the proud remnants reorganized and formed the fifth corps of the "grande armée," distinguished themselves at smolensk, borodino, kalouga, and the passage of the berezina, took the field with the wreck of the army in saxony, fought at dresden and leipsic, and, when napoleon told them, brave as they were, that they were free to go home if they pleased, they scorned to desert him in his waning fortunes, and accompanied him to paris. alexander promised an amnesty, and they marched with him to warsaw. within the first six months many officers of this army had been grossly insulted; an eyewitness told me that he had seen, on the great square of warsaw, the high sheriff tear off the epaulettes from the shoulders of an officer, and, in the presence of the whole troops, strike him on the cheek with his hand. it would, perhaps, be unjust to enumerate, as i heard them, the many causes of oppression that roused to revolt the slumbering spirit of the poles; in the midst of which the french revolution threw all poland into commotion. the three days of july were hailed with rapture by every patriotic heart; the new revolutionary movements in belgium cheered them on; and eighty young men, torn from the altars while praying for the souls of their murdered countrymen on the anniversary of the butchery at praga, thrilled every heart and hurried the hour of retribution. the enthusiasm of youth struck the first blow. a band of ardent young men of the first families attended the meetings of secret patriotic associations; and six of them, belonging to the military school, suspecting they were betrayed, early in the evening went to their barracks, and proposed to their comrades a plan for liberating their country. the whole corps, not excepting one sick in bed, amounting in all to about a hundred and fifty, took up arms, and, under a lieutenant of nineteen, attacked the palace of constantine, and almost secured his person. the grand-duke was then asleep on a couch in a room opening upon a corridor of the belvidere palace, and, roused by a faithful valet, had barely time to throw a robe over him and fly. the insurgents, with cries of vengeance, rushed into the interior of the palace, driving before them the chief of the city police and the aiddecamp of the grand-duke. the latter had the presence of mind to close the door of the grand-duke's apartment before he was pierced through with a dozen bayonets. the wife of the grand-duke, the beautiful and interesting princess for whom he had sacrificed a crown, hearing the struggle, was found on her knees offering up prayers to heaven for the safety of her husband. constantine escaped by a window; and the young soldiers, foiled in their attempt, marched into the city, and, passing the barracks of the russian guards, daringly fired a volley to give notice of their coming. entering the city, they broke open the prisons and liberated the state prisoners, burst into the theatres, crying out, "women, home; men, to arms," forced the arsenal, and in two hours forty thousand men were under arms. very soon the fourth polish regiment joined them; and before midnight the remainder of the polish troops in warsaw, declaring that their children were too deeply implicated to be abandoned, espoused the popular cause. some excesses were committed; and general stanislaus potocki, distinguished in the revolution of kosciusko, for hesitating was killed, exclaiming with his last breath that it was dreadful to die by the hands of his countrymen. chlopicki, the comrade of kosciusko, was proclaimed dictator by an immense multitude in the champ de mars. for some time the inhabitants of warsaw were in a delirium; the members of the patriotic association, and citizens of all classes, assembled every day, carrying arms, and with glasses in their hands, in the saloon of the theatre and at a celebrated coffee-house, discussing politics and singing patriotic songs. in the theatres the least allusion brought down thunders of applause, and at the end of the piece heralds appeared on the stage waving the banners of the dismembered provinces. in the pit they sang in chorus national hymns; the boxes answered them; and sometimes the spectators finished by scaling the stage and dancing the mazurka and the cracoviak. the fatal issue of this revolution is well known. the polish nation exerted and exhausted its utmost strength, and the whole force of the colossal empire was brought against it, and, in spite of prodigies of valour, crushed it. the moment, the only moment when gallant, chivalric, and heroic poland could have been saved and restored to its rank among nations, was suffered to pass by, and no one came to her aid. the minister of france threw out the bold boast that a hundred thousand men stood ready to march to her assistance; but france and all europe looked on and saw her fall. her expiring diet ordered a levy in mass, and made a last appeal, "in the name of god; in the name of liberty; of a nation placed between life and death; in the name of kings and heroes who have fought for religion and humanity; in the name of future generations; in the name of justice and the deliverance of europe;" but her dying appeal was unheard. her last battle was under the walls of warsaw; and then she would not have fallen, but even in poland there were traitors. the governor of warsaw blasted the laurels won in the early battles of the revolution by the blackest treason. he ordered general romarino to withdraw eight thousand soldiers and chase the russians beyond the frontier at brezc. while he was gone the russians pressed warsaw; he could have returned in time to save it, but was stopped with directions not to advance until farther orders. in the mean time warsaw fell, with the curse of every pole upon the head of its governor. the traitor now lives ingloriously in russia, disgraced and despised, while the young lieutenant is in unhappy but not unhonoured exile in siberia. so ended the last heroic struggle of poland. it is dreadful to think so, but it is greatly to be feared that poland is blotted for ever from the list of nations. indeed, by a late imperial ukase, poland is expunged from the map of europe; her old and noble families are murdered, imprisoned, or in exile; her own language is excluded from the offices of government, and even from the public schools; her national character destroyed; her national dress proscribed; her national colours trampled under foot; her national banner, the white eagle of poland, is in the dust. warsaw is abandoned, and become a russian city; her best citizens are wandering in exile in foreign lands, while cossack and circassian soldiers are filing through her streets, and the banner of russia is waving over her walls. perhaps it is not relevant, but i cannot help saying that there is no exaggeration in the stories which reach us at our own doors of the misfortunes and sufferings of polish exiles. i have met them wandering in many different countries, and particularly i remember one at cairo. he had fought during the whole polish revolution, and made his escape when warsaw fell. he was a man of about thirty-five years of age, dressed in a worn military frockcoat, and carrying himself with a manly and martial air. he had left a wife and two children at warsaw. at constantinople he had written to the emperor requesting permission to return, and even promising never again to take up arms against russia, but had received for answer that the amnesty was over and the day of grace was past; and the unfortunate pole was then wandering about the world like a cavalier of fortune or a knight of romance, with nothing to depend upon but his sword. he had offered his services to the sultan and to the pacha of egypt; he was then poor, and, with the bearing of a gentleman and the pride of a soldier, was literally begging his bread. i could sympathize in the misfortunes of an exiled pole, and felt that his distress must indeed be great, that he who had perilled life and ties dearer than life in the cause of an oppressed country, should offer his untarnished sword to the greatest despot that ever lived. the general appearance of warsaw is imposing. it stands on a hill of considerable elevation on the left bank of the vistula; the zamech or chateau of the kings of poland spreads its wings midway between the river and the summit of the hill, and churches and towering spires checker at different heights the distant horizon. most of the houses are built of stone, or brick stuccoed; they are numbered in one continued series throughout the city, beginning from the royal palace (occupied by paskiewitch), which is numbered _one_, and rising above number five thousand. the churches are numerous and magnificent; the palaces, public buildings, and many of the mansions of noblemen, are on a large scale, very showy, and, in general, striking for their architectural designs. one great street runs irregularly through the whole city, of which miodowa, or honey-street, and the novoy swiat, or new world, are the principal and most modern portions. as in all aristocratic cities, the streets are badly paved, and have no trottoirs for the foot passengers. the russian drosky is in common use; the public carriages are like those in western europe, though of a low form; the linings generally painted red; the horses large and handsome, with large collars of red or green, covered with small brass rings, which sound like tinkling bells; and the carts are like those in our own city, only longer and lower, and more like our brewer's dray. the hotels are numerous, generally kept in some of the old palaces, and at the entrance of each stands a large porter, with a cocked hat and silver-headed cane, to show travellers to their apartments and receive the names of visiters. there are two principal kukiernia, something like the french cafés, where many of the varsovians breakfast and lounge in the mornings. [illustration: royal palace at warsaw.] the poles, in their features, looks, customs, and manners, resemble asiatics rather than europeans; and they are, no doubt, descended from tartar ancestors. though belonging to the sclavonic race, which occupies nearly the whole extent of the vast plains of western europe, they have advanced more than the others from the rude and barbarous state which characterizes this race; and this is particularly manifest at warsaw. an eyewitness, describing the appearance of the polish deputies at paris sent to announce the election of henry of anjou as successor of sigismund, says, "it is impossible to describe the general astonishment when we saw these ambassadors in long robes, fur caps, sabres, arrows, and quivers; but our admiration was excessive when we saw the sumptuousness of their equipages; the scabbards of their swords adorned with jewels; their bridles, saddles, and horse-cloths decked in the same way," &c. but none of this barbaric display is now seen in the streets of warsaw. indeed, immediately on entering it i was struck with the european aspect of things. it seemed almost, though not quite, like a city of western europe, which may, perhaps, be ascribed, in a great measure, to the entire absence of the semi-asiatic costumes so prevalent in all the cities of russia, and even at st. petersburgh; and the only thing i remarked peculiar in the dress of the inhabitants was the remnant of a barbarous taste for show, exhibiting itself in large breastpins, shirt-buttons, and gold chains over the vest; the mustache is universally worn. during the war of the revolution immediately succeeding our own, warsaw stood the heaviest brunt; and when kosciusko fell fighting before it, its population was reduced to seventy five thousand. since that time it has increased, and is supposed now to be one hundred and forty thousand, thirty thousand of whom are jews. calamity after calamity has befallen warsaw; still its appearance is that of a gay city. society consists altogether of two distinct and distant orders, the nobles and the peasantry, without any intermediate degrees. i except, of course, the jews, who form a large item in her population, and whose long beards, thin and anxious faces, and piercing eyes met me at every corner of warsaw. the peasants are in the lowest stage of mental degradation. the nobles, who are more numerous than in any other country in europe, have always, in the eyes of the public, formed the people of poland. they are brave, prompt, frank, hospitable, and gay, and have long been called the french of the north, being french in their habits, fond of amusements, and living in the open air, like the lounger in the palais royal, the tuileries, the boulevards, and luxembourgh, and particularly french in their political feelings, the surges of a revolution in paris being always felt at warsaw. they regard the germans with mingled contempt and aversion, calling them "dumb" in contrast with their own fluency and loquacity; and before their fall were called by their neighbours the "proud poles." they consider it the deepest disgrace to practise any profession, even law or medicine, and, in case of utmost necessity, prefer the plough. a sicilian, a fellow-passenger from palermo to naples, who one moment was groaning in the agony of seasickness and the next playing on his violin, said to me, "canta il, signore?" "do you sing?" i answered "no;" and he continued, "suonate?" "do you play?" i again answered "no;" and he asked me, with great simplicity, "cosa fatte? niente?" "what do you do? nothing?" and i might have addressed the same question to every pole in warsaw. the whole business of the country is in the hands of the jews, and all the useful and mechanical arts are practised by strangers. i did not find a pole in a single shop in warsaw; the proprietors of the hotels and coffee-houses are strangers, principally germans; my tailor was a german; my shoemaker a frenchman, and the man who put a new crystal in my watch an italian from milan. but though this entire absence of all useful employment is, on grounds of public policy, a blot on their national character, as a matter of feeling it rather added to the interest with which i regarded the "proud poles;" and perhaps it was imaginary, but i felt all the time i was in warsaw that, though the shops and coffee-houses were open, and crowds thronged the streets, a sombre air hung over the whole city; and if for a moment this impression left me, a company of cossacks, with their wild music, moving to another station, or a single russian officer riding by in a drosky, wrapped in his military cloak, reminded me that the foot of a conqueror was upon the necks of the inhabitants of warsaw. this was my feeling after a long summer day's stroll through the streets; and in the evening i went to the theatre, which was a neat building, well filled, and brilliantly lighted; but the idea of a pervading and gloomy spirit so haunted me that in a few moments i left what seemed a heartless mockery of pleasure. i ought to add that i did not understand a word of the piece; the _triste_ air which touched me may have been induced by the misfortunes of the stage hero; and, in all probability, i should have astonished a melancholy-looking neighbour if, acting under my interpretation of his visage, i had expressed to him my sympathy in the sufferings of his country. chapter xii. religion of poland.--sunday in warsaw.--baptized jews.--palaces of the polish kings.--sobieski.--field of vola.--wreck of a warrior.--the poles in america.--a polish lady.--troubles of a passport.--departure from warsaw.--an official rachel.--a mysterious visiter. sunday at warshaw. poland is distinguished above the other nations of europe as a land of religious toleration. so late as the latter part of the tenth century, the religion of poland was a gross idolatry; and, mingled with the rites of their own country, they worshipped, under other names, jupiter, pluto, mars, venus, diana, and others of the pagan deities. during the reign of mieczylaus i. of the piast dynasty, the monks introduced christianity. the prince himself was proof against the monks, but received from woman's lips the principles of the christian religion. enamoured of dombrowska, the daughter of the duke of bohemia, a country which had then lately embraced christianity, who refused to accept his suit unless he was baptized, mieczylaus sacrificed the superstitions and prejudices of his fathers on the altar of love. but the religion which he embraced for the sake of dombrowska he afterward propagated for its own; became an ardent champion of the cross; broke down with his own hands the idols of his country; built christian churches on the ruins of pagan temples; and, in the ardour of his new faith, issued an edict that, when any portion of the gospel was read, the hearers should half draw their swords to testify their readiness to defend its truth. in the reign of the "famous" john sobieski, the annals of poland, till that time free from this disgrace, were stained by one of the most atrocious acts of barbarity recorded in the history of religious persecution. a lithuanian nobleman, a religious and benevolent man, but sufficiently intelligent to ridicule some of the current superstitions, and very rich, on account of a note made in the margin of a book, written by a stupid german, was tried for atheism by a council of bigoted catholic bishops, and found guilty, not only of "having denied the existence of a god, but the doctrine of the trinity and the divine maternity of the virgin mary." zaluski, one of the villains concerned in the torment, writes, "the convict was led to the scaffold, where the executioner, with a red-hot iron, tore his tongue and his mouth, _with which he had been cruel toward god_; then they burned his hands, instruments of the abominable production, at a slow fire. the sacrilegious paper was thrown into the flame; himself last; that monster of the age, that deicide, was cast into the flames of expiation, if such a crime could be atoned." in seventeen hundred and twenty-six the jesuits, making a public procession with the host in the streets of thorn, the young scholars of the order insisted that some lutheran children should kneel; and on their refusal a scuffle ensued between the jesuits and townspeople, most of whom were lutherans, in which the enraged townspeople broke open the jesuits' college, profaned all the objects of worship, and, among others an image of the virgin. the catholics of poland, assembled in the diet, almost infuriated with fanatic zeal, condemned to death the magistrates of thorn for not exercising their authority. seven of the principal citizens were also condemned to death; many were imprisoned or banished; three persons, accused of throwing the virgin's image into the fire, lost their right arms, and the whole city was deprived of the freedom of public worship. this was the last act of religious persecution in poland; but even yet the spirit of the reformation has made but little progress, and the great bulk of the people are still groping in the darkness of catholicism. on every public road and in all the streets of warsaw stand crosses, sometimes thirty feet high, with a figure of the saviour large as life, sometimes adorned with flowers and sometimes covered with rags. as in all catholic cities, a sunday in warsaw is a fête day. i passed the morning in strolling through the churches, which are very numerous, and some of them, particularly the cathedral church of st. john and that of the holy cross, of colossal dimensions. the scene was the same as in the catholic churches in italy; at every door crowds were entering and passing out, nobles, peasants, shopmen, drosky boys, and beggars; the highborn lady descended from her carriage, dipped her fingers in the same consecrated water, and kneeled on the same pavement side by side with the beggar; alike equal in god's house, and outside the door again an immeasurable distance between them. at twelve o'clock, by appointment, i met my travelling companion and another of his friends in the jardin de saxe, the principal public garden in warsaw. it stands in the very heart of the city, in the rear of the palais de saxe, built by the elector of saxony when called to the throne of poland. it is enclosed all around by high brick walls, screened by shrubs, and vines, and trees rising above, so as to exclude the view of the houses facing it. it is handsomely laid out with lawns and gravel-walks, and adorned with trees; and as the grounds are exceedingly rural and picturesque, and the high walls and trees completely shut out the view of all surrounding objects, i could hardly realize that i was in the centre of a populous city. it was then the fashionable hour for promenade, and all the élite of warsaw society was there. i had heard of this sunday promenade, and, after making one or two turns on the principal walk, i remarked to my companions that i was disappointed in not seeing, as i had expected, a collection of the highborn and aristocratic poles; but they told me that, changed as warsaw was in every particular, in nothing was this change more manifest than in the character of this favourite resort. from boyhood, one of them had been in the habit of walking there regularly on the same day and at the same hour; and he told me that, before the revolution, it had always been thronged by a gay and brilliant collection of the nobility of warsaw; and he enumerated several families whose names were identified with the history of poland, who were in the habit of being there at a certain time, as regularly as the trees which then shaded our walk; but since the revolution these families were broken up and dispersed, and their principal members dead or in exile, or else lived retired, too proud in their fallen state to exhibit themselves in public places, where they were liable to be insulted by the presence of their russian conquerors; and i could well appreciate the feeling which kept them away, for russian officers, with their rattling swords and nodding plumes, and carrying themselves with a proud and lordly air, were the most conspicuous persons present. i had noticed one party, a dark, pale, and interesting-looking man, with an elegant lady and several children and servants, as possessing, altogether, a singularly melancholy and aristocratic appearance; but the interest i was disposed to take in them was speedily dispelled by hearing that he was a baptized jew, a money broker, who had accumulated a fortune by taking advantage of the necessities of the distressed nobles. indeed, next to the russian officers, the baptized jews were the most prominent persons on the promenade. these persons form a peculiar class in warsaw, occupying a position between the israelites and christians, and amalgamating with neither. many of them are rich, well educated, and accomplished, and possess great elegance of appearance and manner. they hate most cordially their unregenerated brethren, and it is unnecessary to say that this hate is abundantly reciprocated. it was with a feeling of painful interest that i strolled through this once favourite resort of the nobility of warsaw; and my companions added to this melancholy feeling by talking in a low tone, almost in whispers, and telling me that now the promenade was always _triste_ and dull; and in going out they led me through a private walk, where an old noble, unable to tear himself from a place consecrated by the recollections of his whole life, still continued to take his daily walk apart from the crowd, wearing out the evening of his days in bitter reflections on the fallen condition of his kindred and country. we dined, as usual, at a restaurant, where at one table was a party of swiss, here, as at moscow, exercising that talent, skill, and industry which they exhibit all over the world, and consoling themselves for the privations of exile with the hope of one day being able to return to their native mountains, never to leave them again. after dinner we took an open carriage, and at the barrier entered one of the numerous avenues of the ujazdow, leading to belvidere, the country residence of the late grand-duke constantine. the avenue is divided by rows of old and stately trees, terminating in a large circular octagon, from which branch off eight other avenues, each at a short distance crossed by others, and forming a sort of labyrinth, said to be one of the finest drives and promenades in europe, and on sundays the rendezvous of nearly the entire population of warsaw. it was a beautiful afternoon, and the throng of carriages, and horsemen, and thousands of pedestrians, and the sun, occasionally obscured and then breaking through the thick foliage, darkening and again lighting up the vista through the trees, gave a beauty to the landscape, and a variety and animation to the scene, that i had not yet found in warsaw. passing the belvidere palace, my companions described the manner in which the students had made their attack upon it, and pointed out the window by which constantine escaped. turning from one of the splendid avenues of the ujazdow, we crossed a stone bridge, on which stands the equestrian statue of john sobieski, his horse rearing over the body of a prostrate turk; it was erected to him as the saviour of christendom after he had driven the turks from the walls of vienna. beyond this we entered the grounds and park of lazienki, formerly the country residence of stanislaus augustus, situated in a most delightful spot on the banks of the vistula. the royal villa stands in the midst of an extensive park of stately old trees, and the walks lead to a succession of delightful and romantic spots, adorned with appropriate and tasteful buildings. among them, on an island reached by crossing a rustic bridge, are a winter and a summer theatre, the latter constructed so as to resemble, in a great measure, an ancient amphitheatre in ruins; in it performances used formerly to take place in the open air. i am not given to dreaming, and there was enough in the scenes passing under my eyes to employ my thoughts; but, as i wandered through the beautiful walks, and crossed romantic bridges, composed of the trunks and bended branches of trees, i could not help recurring to the hand that had planned these beauties, the good king stanislaus. "dread pultowa's day, when fortune left the royal swede," hurled stanislaus from his throne; and as i stood under the portico of his palace, i could but remember that its royal builder had fled from it in disguise, become a prisoner to the turks, and died an exile in a foreign land. from here we rode to the chateau of villanow, another and one of the most interesting of the residences of the kings of poland, constructed by john sobieski and perhaps the only royal structure in europe which, like some of the great edifices of egypt and rome, was erected by prisoners taken in war, being constructed entirely by the hands of turkish captives. it was the favourite residence of sobieski, where he passed most of his time when not in arms, and where he closed his days. until lately, the chamber and bed on which he died might still be seen. the grounds extend for a great distance along the banks of the vistula, and many of the noble trees which now shade the walks were planted by sobieski's own hands. the reign of sobieski is the most splendid era in the history of poland. the great statue i had just passed presented him as the conqueror of the turks, the deliverer of christendom, the redoubtable warrior, riding over the body of a prostrate mussulman; and every stone in the palace is a memorial of his warlike triumphs; but if its inner chambers could tell the scenes of which they had been the witness, loud and far as the trumpet of glory has sounded his name, no man would envy john sobieski. the last time he unsheathed his sword, in bitterness of heart he said, "it will be easier to get the better of the enemies i am in quest of than my own sons." he returned broken with vexation and shattered with wounds, more than sixty years old, and two thirds of his life spent in the tented field; his queen drove his friends from his side, destroyed that domestic peace which he valued above all things, and filled the palace with her plots and intrigues. he had promised to zaluski an office which the queen wished to give to another. "my friend," said the dying monarch, "you know the rights of marriage, and you know if i can resist the prayers of the queen; it depends, then, on you that i live tranquil or that i be constantly miserable. she has already promised to another this vacant office, and if i do not consent to it i am obliged to fly my house. i know not where i shall go to die in peace. you pity me; you will not expose me to public ridicule." old and infirm, with gray hairs and withered laurels, a prey to lingering disease, the deathbed of the dying warrior was disturbed by a noise worse than the din of battle; and before the breath had left him, an intriguing wife and unnatural children were wrangling over his body for the possession of his crown. a disgraceful struggle was continued a short time after his death. one by one his children died, and there is not now any living of the name of sobieski. the next day i visited the field of vola, celebrated as the place of election of the kings of poland. it is about five miles from warsaw, and was formerly surrounded by a ditch with three gates, one for great poland, one for little poland, and one for lithuania. in the middle were two enclosures, one of an oblong shape, surrounded by a kind of rampart or ditch, in the centre of which was erected, at the time of election, a vast temporary building of wood, covered at the top and open at the sides, which was called the zopa, and occupied by the senate; and the other of a circular shape, called the kola, in which the nuncios assembled in the open air. the nobles, from a hundred and fifty thousand to two hundred thousand in number, encamped on the plain in separate bodies under the banners of their respective palatinates, with their principal officers in front on horseback. the primate, having declared the names of the candidates, kneeled down and chanted a hymn; and then, mounting on horseback, went round the plain and collected the votes, the nobles not voting individually, but each palatinate in a body. it was necessary that the election should be unanimous, and a single nobleman peremptorily stopped the election of ladislaus vii. being asked what objection he had to him, he answered, "none at all; but i will not suffer him to be king." after being by some means brought over, he gave the king as the reason for his opposition, "i had a mind to see whether our liberty was still in being or not. i am satisfied that it is, and your majesty shall not have a better subject than myself." if the palatinates agreed, the primate asked again, and yet a third time if all were satisfied; and, after a general approbation, three times proclaimed the king; and the grand marshal of the crown repeated the proclamation three times at the gates of the camp. it was the exercise of this high privilege of electing their own king which created and sustained the lofty bearing of the polish nobles, inducing the proud boast which, in a moment of extremity, an intrepid band made to their king, "what hast thou to fear with twenty thousand lances? if the sky should fall, we would keep it up with their points." but, unhappily, although the exercise of this privilege was confined only to the nobles, the election of a king often exhibited a worse picture than all the evils of universal suffrage with us. the throne was open to the whole world; the nobles were split into contending factions; foreign gold found its way among them, and sometimes they deliberated under the bayonets of foreign troops. warsaw and its environs were a scene of violence and confusion, and sometimes the field of vola was stained with blood. still no man can ride over that plain without recurring to the glorious hour when sobieski, covered with laurels won in fighting the battles of his country, amid the roar of cannon and the loud acclamations of the senate, the nobles, and the army, was hailed the chosen king of a free people. i had enough of travelling post, and was looking out for some quiet conveyance to cracow. a jew applied to me, and i went with him to look at his carriage, which i found at a sort of "bull's-head" stopping-place, an enormous vehicle without either bottom or top, being a species of framework like our hay-wagons, filled with straw to prevent goods and passengers from spilling out. he showed me a couple of rough-looking fellows, who would be my _compagnons de voyage_, and who said that we could all three lie very comfortably in the bottom of the vehicle. their appearance did not add to the recommendation of the wagon; nevertheless, if i had understood the language and been strong enough for the rough work, i should perhaps have taken that conveyance, as, besides the probable incidents of the journey, it would give me more insight into the character of the people than a year's residence in the capital. returning to my hotel, i found that a polish officer had left his address, with a request for me to call upon him. i went, and found a man of about forty, middle sized, pale and emaciated, wounded and an invalid, wearing the polish revolutionary uniform. it was the only instance in which i had seen this dress. after the revolution it had been absolutely proscribed; but the country being completely subdued, and the government in this particular case not caring to exercise any unnecessary harshness, he was permitted to wear it unmolested. it was, however, almost in mockery that he still wore the garb of a soldier; for if poland had again burst her chains, and the unsheathed sword were put in his hands, he could not have struck a blow to help her. unfortunately, he could not speak french, or, rather, i may say fortunately, for in consequence of this i saw his lady, a pensive, melancholy, and deeply-interesting woman, dressed in black, in mourning for two gallant brothers who died in battle under the walls of warsaw. their business with me was of a most commonplace nature. they had lately returned from a visit to some friends at cracow, in a calêche hired at the frontier; and hearing from the peasant who drove them that a stranger was looking for a conveyance to that place, out of good-will to him desired to recommend him to me. the lady had hardly finished a sort of apologizing commencement before i had resolved to assent to almost anything she proposed; and when she stated the whole case, it was so exactly what i wanted, that i expressed myself under great obligations for the favour done me. i suggested, however, my doubts as to the propriety of undertaking the journey alone, without any interpreter; but, after a few words with the major, she replied that she would give full directions to the peasant as to the route. as the carriage could not go beyond the frontier, her husband would give me a letter to the commissaire at michoof, who spoke french, and also to the postmaster; and, finally, she would herself make out for me a vocabulary of the words likely to be most necessary, so as to enable me to ask for bread, milk, eggs, &c.; and with this, and the polish for "how much," i would get along without any difficulty. while she was writing, another officer came in, old and infirm, and also dressed in the polish uniform. she rose from the table, met him almost at the door, kissed him affectionately, led him to a seat, and barely mentioning him to me as "_mon beau père_," resumed her work. while she was writing i watched attentively the whole three, and the expression of face with which the two officers regarded her was unspeakably interesting. they were probably unconscious of it, and perhaps it was only my fancy, but if the transient lighting of their sunken eyes meant anything, it meant that they who sat there in the garb and equipment of soldiers, who had stood in all the pride and vigour of manhood on bloody battle-fields, now looked to a feeble and lovely woman as their only staff and support in life. i would have told them how deeply i sympathized in the misfortunes of their suffering country, but their sadness seemed too deep and sacred. i knew that i could strike a responsive chord by telling them that i was an american, but i would not open their still bleeding wounds; at parting, however, i told them that i should remember in my own country and to their countrymen the kindness shown me here; and as soon as i mentioned that i was an american, the lady asked me the fate of her unhappy countrymen who had been landed as exiles on our shores, and i felt proud in telling them that they had found among our citizens that sympathy which brave men in misfortune deserve, and that our government had made a provision in land for the exiled compatriots of kosciusko. she inquired particularly about the details of their occupation, and expressed the fear that their habits of life, most of them having been brought up as soldiers, unfitted them for usefulness among us. i did not then know how prophetic were her forebodings, and was saved the necessity of telling her, what i afterward read in a newspaper, that an unhappy portion of that band of exiles, discontented with their mode of life, in attempting to cross the rocky mountains were cut to pieces by a party of indians. under the pressure of their immediate misfortunes they had not heard the fate of the exiles, and a ray of satisfaction played for a moment over their melancholy features in hearing that they had met with friends in america; and they told me to say to the poles wherever i found them, that they need never again turn their eyes toward home. she added that the time had been when she and her friends would have extended the hand of welcome to a stranger in poland; that, when a child, she had heard her father and brothers talk of liberty and the pressure of a foreign yoke, but, living in affluence, surrounded by friends and connexions, she could not sympathize with them, and thought it a feeling existing only in men, which women could not know; but actual occurrences had opened her eyes; her family had been crushed to the earth, her friends imprisoned, killed, or driven into exile, and yet, she added, turning to her husband and father, she ought not to mourn, for those dearest to her on earth were spared. but i could read in her face, as she bent her eyes upon their pallid features, that she felt they were spared only for a season. reluctantly i bade them farewell. a servant waited to go with me and show me the calêche, but i told him it was not worth while. i was in no humour for examining the spokes of carriage-wheels; and, if i had been obliged to ride on the tongue, i believe i should have taken it. i went to my hotel, and told my friend of my interview with the major and his lady. he knew them by reputation, and confirmed and strengthened all the interest i took in them, adding that both father and son had been among the first to take up arms during the revolution, and at its unhappy termination were so beloved by the people of warsaw that, in their wounded and crippled state, the russian government had not proceeded to extremities with them. i spent my last evening in warsaw with my pole and several of his friends at a herbata, that is, a sort of confectioner's shop, like a _café_ in the south of europe, where, as in russia, tea is the popular drink. the next morning, as usual, my passport was not ready. my valet had been for it several times, and could not get it. i had been myself to the police-office, and waited until dark, when i was directed to call the next morning. i went at a little after eight, but i will not obtrude upon the reader the details of my vexation, nor the amiable feelings that passed my mind in waiting till twelve o'clock in a large anteroom. in my after wanderings i sometimes sat down upon a stump or on the sands of the desert, and meditated upon my folly in undergoing all manner of hardships when i might be sitting quietly at home; but when i thought of passports in russia and poland, i shook myself with the freedom of a son of the desert, and with the thought that i could turn my dromedary's head which way i pleased, other difficulties seemed light. ancient philosophers extolled uniformity as a great virtue in a young man's character; and, if so, i was entitled to the highest praise, for in the matter of arranging my passport i was always in a passion. i do not know a single exception to the contrary. and if there was one thing more vexatious than another, it was in the case at warsaw, where, after having been bandied from office to office, i received my passport, still requiring the signature of the governor, and walked up to the palace, nursing my indignation, and expecting an accumulation, i was ushered in by guards and soldiers, and at once disarmed of all animosity by the politeness and civility of the principal officers of government. i was almost sorry to be obliged to withhold my intended malediction. i hurried back to my hotel. my friend, with three or four of his warsaw acquaintances, was waiting to see the last of me; my calêche was at the door, and i was already late for a start. i took my seat and bade them farewell. i promised to write to him on my arrival in paris, and to continue a correspondence on my return home. most unfortunately, i lost his address. he lived in some town in poland, near the frontiers of prussia, and probably at this moment thinks of me unkindly for my apparent neglect. possibly we may meet again, though probably never; but if we do, though it do not happen till our heads are gray, we will have a rich fund of satisfaction in the recollections of our long journey to warsaw. i was again setting out alone. my guide or _conducteur_ was a polish peasant. without having seen him, i had calculated upon making ordinary human intelligence, to some extent, a medium of communication; but i found that i had been too soaring in my ideas of the divinity of human nature. when i returned to the hotel i found him lying on the sidewalk asleep; a servant kicked him up and pointed me out as his master for the journey. he ran up and kissed my hand, and, before i was aware of his intention, stooped down and repeated the same salutation on my boot. an american, perhaps, more than any other, scorns the idea of man's debasing himself to his fellow-man; and so powerful was this feeling in me, that before i went abroad i almost despised a white man whom i saw engaged in a menial office. i had outlived this feeling; but when i saw a tall, strong, athletic white man kneel down and kiss my foot, i could almost have spurned him from me. his whole dress was a long shirt coming down to his feet, supported by a broad leathern belt eight inches wide, which he used as a pocket, and a low, broad-brimmed hat, turned up all round, particularly at the sides, and not unlike the headgear of the lebanon shakers. before putting myself out of the reach of aid, i held a conversation with him through an interpreter. the lady of the major had made out a chart for me, specifying each day's journey, which he promised to observe, and added that he would be my slave if i would give him plenty to drink. with such a companion, then, i may say most emphatically that i was again setting out alone; but my calêche was even better than the polish officer represented it, abundantly provided with pockets for provisions, books, &c., and altogether so much more comfortable than anything i was used to, that i threw myself back in it with a feeling of great satisfaction. i rolled for the last time through the streets of warsaw; looked out upon the busy throng; and though, in the perfectly indifferent air with which they turned to me, i felt how small a space i occupied in the world, i lighted my pipe and smoked in their faces, and, with a perfect feeling of independence toward all the world, at one o'clock i arrived at the barrier. here i found, to my great vexation, that i was an object of special consideration to the emperor of russia. a soldier came out for my passport, with which he went inside the guardhouse, and in a few minutes returned with the paper in his hands to ask me some question. i could not answer him. he talked at me a little while, and again went within doors. after sitting for a few moments, vexed at the detention, but congratulating myself that if there was any irregularity it had been discovered before i had advanced far on my journey, i dismounted and went inside, where, after detaining me long enough to make me feel very uncomfortable, they endorsed the visé and let me go. i again lighted my pipe, and in the mildness and beauty of the day, the comfort of my calêche, and the docility and accommodating spirit of my peasant, forgot my past, and even the chance of future difficulties. there was nothing particularly attractive in the road; the country was generally fertile, though tame and uninteresting. late in the afternoon we stopped at a little town, of which i cannot make out the name. like all the other towns on this side of warsaw, in the centre was a square, with a range of wooden houses built all around fronting on the square, and the inhabitants were principally jews. my peasant took off his horses and fed them in the square, and i went into a little kukernia, much cleaner and better than the town promised, where i had a cup of coffee and a roll of bread, and then strolled around the town, which, at this moment, presented a singular spectacle. the women and children were driving into the square herds of cows from the pasture-grounds in the unenclosed plains around; and, when all were brought in, each proprietor picked out his own cow and drove her home, and in a few moments opposite almost every house stood the family cow, with a woman or child milking her. after this the cows strolled back into the square to sleep till morning. a little before dark we started, and, after a fine moonlight ride, at about ten o'clock drove into a sort of caravanserai, being simply a large shed or covered place for wagons and horses, with a room partitioned off in one corner for eating and sleeping. there were, perhaps, fifteen or twenty wagons under the shed, and their wagoners were all assembled in this room, some standing up and eating off a board stretched along the wall, some drinking, some smoking, and some already asleep on the floor. in one corner was a party of jews, with the contents of a purse emptied before them, which they were dividing into separate parcels. the place was kept by a jew, who, with his wife, or some woman belonging to the establishment, old and weatherbeaten, was running about serving and apparently quarrelling with all the wagoners. she seemed particularly disposed to quarrel with me, i believe because i could not talk to her, this being, in her eyes, an unpardonable sin. i could understand, however, that she wanted to prepare me a supper; but my appetite was not tempted by what i saw around me, and i lighted my pipe and smoked. i believe she afterward saw something in me which made her like me better; for while the wagoners were strewing themselves about the floor for sleep, she went out, and returning with a tolerably clean sheaf of straw under each arm, called me to her, and shaking them out in the middle of the floor, pointed me to my bed. my pipe was ended, and putting my carpet-bag under my head, i lay down upon the straw; and the old woman climbed up to a sort of platform in one corner, where, a moment after, i saw her sitting up with her arms above her head, with the utmost nonchalance changing her innermost garment. i was almost asleep, when i noticed a strapping big man, muffled up to the eyes, standing at my feet and looking in my face. i raised my head, and he walked round, keeping his eyes fixed upon me, and went away. shortly after he returned, and again walking round, stopped and addressed me, "spreechen sie deutsch?" i answered by asking him if he could speak french; and not being able, he went away. he returned again, and again walked round as before, looking steadily in my face. i rose on my elbow, and followed him with my eyes till i had turned completely round with him, when he stopped as if satisfied with his observations, and in his broadest vernacular opened bluntly, "hadn't we better speak english?" i need not say that i entirely agreed with him. i sprang up, and catching his hand, asked him what possessed him to begin upon me in dutch; he replied by asking why i had answered in french, adding that his stout english figure ought to have made me know better; and after mutual good-natured recriminations, we kicked my straw bed about the floor, and agreed to make a night of it. he was the proprietor of a large iron manufactory, distant about three days' journey, and was then on his way to warsaw. he went out to his carriage, and one of his servants produced a stock of provisions like the larder of a well-furnished hotel; and as i had gone to bed supperless, he seemed a good, stout, broad-shouldered guardian angel sent to comfort me. we sat on the back seat of the carriage, making a table of the front; and when we had finished, and the fragments were cleared away, we stretched our legs on the table, lighted our pipes, and talked till we fell asleep on each other's shoulder. notwithstanding our intimacy so far, we should not have known each other by daylight, and at break of day we went outside to examine each other. it was, however, perhaps hardly worth while to retain a recollection of features; for, unless by some such accident as that which brought us together, we never shall meet again. we wrote our names in each other's pocketbook as a memorial of our meeting, and at the same moment started on our opposite roads. chapter xiii. friendly solicitude.--raddom.--symptoms of a difficulty.--a court of inquisition.--showing a proper spirit.--troubles thickening.--approaching the climax.--woman's influence.--the finale.--utility of the classics.--another latinist.--a lucky accident.--arrival at cracow. at about eight o'clock we stopped to feed, and at the feeding-place met a german wagoner, who had lived in hamburgh, and spoke english. he seemed much distressed at my not understanding the language of the country. he was a stout, burly fellow, eating and drinking all the time, and his great anxiety was lest i should starve on the road. he insisted upon my providing against such a fatality, and had a couple of fowls roasted for me, and wrapped in a piece of coarse brown paper; and, at parting, backed by a group of friends, to whom he had told my story, he drank schnaps (at my expense) to my safe arrival at cracow. at eleven o'clock we reached raddom. there was a large swinging gate at the barrier of the town, and the soldier opening it demanded my passport to be _viséd_ by the police; he got into the calêche with me, and we drove into the town, stopped in the public square, and went to the bureau together. he left me in an antechamber, and went within, promising, by his manner, to expedite the business, and intimating an expectation of schnaps on his return. in a few minutes he returned, and barely opening the door for me to enter, hurried off, apparently with some misgivings about his schnaps. i entered, and found three or four men, who took no notice of me. i waited a few moments, and seeing my passport on a table before one of them, went up, and, certainly without intending anything offensive, took up the passport with a view of calling his attention to it; he jerked it out of my hand, and looking at me with an imperious and impertinent air, at the same time saying something i have no doubt in character with the expression of his face, he slapped it down on the table. two or three officers coming in, looked at it, and laid it down again, until at length one man, the head of that department, i suppose, took it up, wrote a note, and giving the note and the passport to a soldier, directed me to follow him. the soldier conducted me to the bureau of the government, the largest building, and occupying a central position in the town, and left me in an antechamber with the usual retinue of soldiers and officers. in about a quarter of an hour he came out without the passport, and pulled me by the sleeve to follow him. i shook my head, asked for the passport, and, in fact, moved toward the door he had left. he seemed a good-hearted fellow, and, anxious to save me from any imprudence, pulled me back, held up his fingers, and pointing to the clock, told me to return at one; and touching his hat respectfully, with probably the only french words he knew, "adieu, seigneur," and a look of real interest, hurried away. i strolled about the town, dropped in at a kukiernia, went to the square, and saw my peasant friend feeding his horses, apparently in some trouble and perplexity. i went back at one, and was ordered to come again at four. i would have remonstrated, but, besides that i could not make myself understood, when i attempted to speak they turned rudely away from me. i was vexed by the loss of the day, as i had agreed to pay a high price for the sake of going through a day sooner, and this might spoil my plan; and i was particularly vexed by the rough manner in which i was treated. i returned at four, and was conducted into a large chamber, in which were perhaps twenty or thirty clerks and inferior officers in the uniform of the government. as soon as i entered there was a general commotion. they had sent for a young man who spoke a little french to act as interpreter. the passport was put into his hands, and the first question he asked me was how i, an american, happened to be travelling under a russian passport. i answered that it was not from any wish of mine, but in obedience to their own laws, and added the fact that this passport had been made out by the russian ambassador at constantinople; that under it i had been admitted into russia, and travelled from the black sea to st. petersburgh, and from there down to warsaw, as he might see from the paper itself, the _visés_ of the proper authorities, down to that of the governor of warsaw, being regularly endorsed. he then asked what my business was in poland, and what had induced me to come there. i answered, the same that had carried me into russia, merely the curiosity of a traveller; and he then inquired what in particular i wanted to see in poland. if i had consulted merely my feelings, i should have told him that, besides being attracted by the interest of her heroic history, i wished to see with my own eyes the pressure of a colossal foot upon the necks of a conquered people; that this very system of inquisition and _espionage_ was one of the things i expected to see; but i, of course, forbore this, and answered only in general terms, and my answer was not satisfactory. he then began a more particular examination; asked my age, my height, the colour of my eyes, &c. at first i did not see the absurdity of this examination, and answered honestly according to the fact, as i believed it; but, all at once, it struck me that, as i did not remember the particulars of the description of my person in the passport, my own impromptu might very easily differ from it, and, catching an insulting expression on his face, i told him that he had the passport in his hands, and might himself compare my person with the description there given of me. he then read aloud the entire description; height, so many feet; eyes, such a colour, &c., &c.; scanned me from head to foot; peered into my eyes, stopping after each article to look at me and compare me with the description. by this time every man in the room had left his business and gathered round looking at me, and, after the reading of each article and the subsequent examination, there was a general shaking of heads and a contemptuous smile. at the time i remembered, what had before suggested itself to me rather as a good thing, that, before embarking for europe, i had written on to the department of state for a passport, with a description of my person made out at the moment by a friend, not very flattering, and, perhaps, not very true, but good enough for the continent, which i expected to be the extent of my tour; and i felt conscious that, on a severe examination, my nose might be longer, or my eyes grayer, or in some other point different from the description. this, added to their close and critical examination, at first embarrassed me considerably, but the supercilious and insulting manner in which the examination was conducted roused my indignation and restored my self-possession. i saw, from the informal way in which the thing was done, that this was a mere preliminary inquisition, and not the court to sit in judgment; and i had noticed from the beginning that most of these men were poles, who had sold themselves to russia for petty place and pay in her offices, traitors in their hearts and lives, apostates from every honourable feeling, and breathing a more infernal spirit against their enslaved country than the russians themselves; and i told the interpreter, as coolly as the nature of the case would admit, to accept for himself, and to convey to his associates, the assurance that i should remember their little town as long as i lived; that i had then travelled from england through france, italy, greece, turkey, and russia, and had nowhere met such wanton rudeness and insult as from them; that i did not think it possible that in any european government twenty of its officers would laugh and sneer at the embarrassment of a stranger without a single one stepping forward to assist him; that i deeply regretted the occurrence of such a circumstance in poland; that i felt convinced that there was not a truehearted pole among them, or my character as an american would have saved me from insult. the interpreter seemed a little abashed, but i could see in the vindictive faces of the rest that they were greatly irritated. the examination was cut short, and i was directed to come again at half past five, when the commandant, who had been sent for, would be there. by this time there was some excitement in the streets, and, as i afterward learned, it was noised through the little town that an american was detained on suspicion of travelling under a false passport. my calêche had been standing in the public square all day. i had been noticed going to and from the offices with a soldier at my heels, and my poor pole had been wandering up and down the streets, telling everybody his fears and interest in me, and particularly his anxiety about ten rubles i had promised him. as i passed along, people turned round and looked at me. i went to a kukiernia, where the dame had been very smiling and attentive, and could not get even a look from her. i went to another; several men were earnestly talking, who became silent the moment i entered. a small matter created an excitement in that little place. it was a rare thing for a traveller to pass through it; the russian government threw every impediment in the way, and had made the road so vexatious that it was almost broken up. the french or the citizens of a free country like america were always suspected of being political emissaries to stir up the poles to revolution, and it seemed as if, under that despotic government, to be suspected was to be guilty. the poles were in the habit of seeing slight offences visited with terrible punishments, and probably half the little town looked on me as a doomed man. i went back to the square and took a seat on my calêche; my poor pole sat on the box looking at me; he had followed me all over, and, like the rest, seemed to regard me as lost. i had probably treated him with more kindness than he was accustomed to receive, though, for every new kindness, he vexed me anew by stooping down and kissing my foot. at half past five o'clock i was again at the door of the palace. on the staircase i met the young man who had acted as interpreter; he would have avoided me, but i stopped him and asked him to return with me. i held on to him, asking him if the commandant spoke french; begged him, as he would hope himself to find kindness in a strange country, to go back and act as a medium of explanation; but he tore rudely away, and hurried down stairs. a soldier opened the door and led me into the same apartment as before. the clerks were all at their desks writing; all looked up as i entered, but not one offered me a seat, nor any the slightest act of civility. i waited a moment, and they seemed studiously to take no notice of me. i felt outrageous at their rudeness. i had no apprehensions of any serious consequences beyond, perhaps, that of a detention until i could write to mr. wilkins, our ambassador at st. petersburgh, and resolved not to be trampled upon by the understrappers. i walked up to the door of the commandant's chamber, when one man, who had been particularly insulting during the reading of the passport, rudely intercepted me, and leaning his back against the door, flourished his hands before him to keep me from entering. fortunately, i fell back in time to prevent even the tip end of his fingers touching me. my blood flashed through me like lightning, and even now i consider myself a miracle of forbearance that i did not strike him. in a few moments the door opened, and a soldier beckoned me to enter. directly in front, at the other end of the room, behind a table, sat the commandant, a grim, gaunt-looking figure about fifty, his military coat buttoned tight up in his throat, his cap and sword on the table by his side, and in his hands my unlucky passport. as i walked toward him he looked from the passport to me, and from me to the passport; and when i stopped at the table he read over again the whole description, at every clause looking at me; shook his head with a grim smile of incredulity, and laid it down, as if perfectly satisfied. i felt that my face was flushed with indignation, and, perhaps, to a certain extent, so distorted with passion that it would have been difficult to recognise me as the person described. i suggested to him that the rude treatment i had met with in the other room had no doubt altered the whole character of my face, but he waved his hand for me to be silent; and, taking up a sheet of paper, wrote a letter or order, or something which i did not understand, and gave it to a soldier, who took it off to one corner and stamped it. the commandant then folded up the passport, enclosed it in the letter, and handed it again to the soldier, who carried it off and affixed to it an enormous wax seal, which looked very ominous and siberian-like. i was determined not to suffer from the want of any effort on my part, and pulled out my old american passport, under which i had travelled in france and italy, and also a new one which commodore porter had given me in constantinople. he looked at them without any comment and without understanding them; and, when the soldier returned with the paper and the big seal, he rose, and, without moving a muscle, waved with his hand for me to follow the soldier. i would have resisted if i had dared. i was indignant enough to do some rash thing, but at every step was a soldier; i saw the folly of it, and, grinding my teeth with vexation and rage, i did as i was ordered. at the door of the palace we found a large crowd, who, knowing my appointment for this hour, were waiting to hear the result. a line of people was formed along the walk, who, seeing me under the charge of a soldier, turned round and looked at me with ominous silence. we passed under the walls of the prison, and the prisoners thrust their arms through the bars and hailed me, and seemed to claim me as a companion, and to promise me a welcome among them. for a moment i was infected with some apprehensions. in my utter ignorance as to what it all meant, i ran over in my mind the stories i had heard of the exercise of despotic authority, and for one moment thought of my german host at moscow and a journey to siberia by mistake. i did not know where the soldier was taking me, but felt relieved when we had got out of the reach of the voices of the prisoners, and more so when we stopped before a large house, which i remarked at once as a private dwelling, though a guard of honour before the door indicated it as the residence of an officer of high rank. we entered, and were ushered into the presence of the governor and commander-in-chief. he was, of course, a russian, a man about sixty, in the uniform of a general officer, and attended by an aiddecamp about thirty. i waited till the soldier had delivered his message; and, before the governor had broken the seal, i carried the war into the enemy's country by complaining of the rude treatment i had received, interrupted in my journey under a passport which had carried me all over russia, and laughed at and insulted by the officers of the government, at the same time congratulating myself that i had at last met those who could at least tell me why i was detained, and would give me an opportunity of explaining anything apparently wrong. i found the governor, as everywhere else in russia where i could get access to the principal man, a gentleman in his bearing and feelings. he requested me to be seated, while he retired into another apartment to examine the passport. the aiddecamp remained, and i entertained him with my chapter of grievances; he put the whole burden of the incivility upon the poles, who, as he said, filled all the inferior offices of government, but told me, too, that the country was in such an unsettled state that it was necessary to be very particular in examining all strangers; and particularly as at that time several french emissaries were suspected to be secretly wandering in poland, trying to stir up revolution. the governor stayed so long that i began to fear there was some technical irregularity which might subject me to detention, and i was in no small degree relieved when he sent for me, and telling me that he regretted the necessity for giving such annoyance and vexation to travellers, handed me back the passport, with a direction to the proper officer to make the necessary _visé_ and let me go. i was so pleased with the result that i did not stop to ask any questions, and to this day i do not know particularly why i was detained. by this time it was nine o'clock, and when we returned the bureau was closed. the soldier stated the case to the loungers about the door, and now all, including some of the scoundrels who had been so rude to me in the morning, were anxious to serve me. one of them conducted me to an apartment near, where i was ushered into the presence of an elderly lady and her two daughters, both of whom spoke french. i apologized for my intrusion; told them my extreme anxiety to go on that night, and begged them to procure some one to take the governor's order to the commandant; in fact, i had become nervous, and did not consider myself safe till out of the place. they called in a younger brother, who started with alacrity on the errand, and i sat down to wait his return. there must be a witchery about polish ladies. i was almost savage against all mankind; i had been kept up to the extremest point of indignation without any opportunity of exploding all day, and it would have been a great favour for some one to knock me down; but in a few minutes all my bitterness and malevolence melted away, and before tea was over i forgot that i had been bandied all day from pillar to post, and even forgave the boors who had mocked me, in consideration of their being the countrymen of the ladies who were showing me such kindness. even with them i began with the chafed spirit that had been goading me on all day; but when i listened to the calm and sad manner in which they replied; that it was annoying, but it was light, very light, compared with the scenes through which they and all their friends had passed, i was ashamed of my petulance. a few words convinced me that they were the poles of my imagination and heart. a widowed mother and orphan children, their staff and protector had died in battle, and a gallant brother was then wandering an exile in france. i believe it is my recollection of polish ladies that gives me a leaning toward rebels. i never met a polish lady who was not a rebel, and i could but think, as long as the startling notes of revolution continue to fall like music from their pretty lips, so long the russian will sleep on an unquiet pillow in poland. it was more than an hour before the brother returned, and i was sorry when he came; for, after my professions of haste, i had no excuse for remaining longer. i was the first american they had ever seen; and if they do not remember me for anything else, i am happy to have disabused them of one prejudice against my country, for they believed the americans were all black. at parting, and at my request, the eldest daughter wrote her name in my memorandum-book, and i bade them farewell. it was eleven o'clock when i left the house, and at the first transition from their presence the night seemed of pitchy darkness. i groped my way into the square, and found my calêche gone. i stood for a moment on the spot where i had left it, ruminating what i should do. perhaps my poor pole had given me up as lost, and taken out letters of administration upon my carpet-bag. directly before me, intersecting the range of houses on the opposite side of the square, was a street leading out of the town. i knew that he was a man to go straight ahead, turning neither to the right hand nor the left. i walked on to the opening, followed it a little way, and saw on the right a gate opening to a shed for stabling. i went in, and found him with his horses unharnessed, feeding them, whipping them, and talking at them in furious polish. as soon as he saw me he left them and came at me in the same tone, throwing up both his hands, and almost flourishing them in my face; then went back to his horses, began pitching on the harness, and, snatching up the meal-bag, came back again toward me, all the time talking and gesticulating like a bedlamite. i was almost in despair. what have i done now? even my poor peasant turns against me; this morning he kissed my foot, now he is ready to brain me with a meal-bag. roused by the uproar, the old woman, proprietor of the shed, came out, accompanied by her daughter, a pretty little girl about twelve years old, carrying a lantern. i looked at them without expecting any help. my peasant moved between them and me and the horses, flourishing his meal-bag, and seeming every moment to become more and more enraged with me. i looked on in dismay, when the little girl came up, and dropping a courtesy before me, in the prettiest french i ever heard, asked me, "que voulez vous, monsieur?" i could have taken her up in my arms and kissed her. i have had a fair share of the perplexity which befalls every man from the sex, but i hold many old accounts cancelled by the relief twice afforded me this day. before coming to a parley with my pole, i took her by the hand, and, sitting down on the tongue of a wagon, learned from her that she had been taken into the house of a rich seigneur to be educated as a companion for his daughter, and was then at home on a visit to her mother; after which she explained the meaning of my postillion's outcry. besides his apprehensions for me personally, he had been tormented with the no less powerful one of losing the promised ten rubles upon his arrival at a fixed time at michoof, and all his earnestness was to hurry me off at once, in order to give him a chance of still arriving within the time. this was exactly the humour in which i wanted to find him, for i had expected great difficulty in making him go on that night; so i told him to hitch on his horses, and at parting did give the little girl a kiss, and the only other thing i could give her without impoverishing myself was a silk purse as a memento. i lighted my pipe, and, worn out with the perplexities of the day, in a short time forgot police and passports, rude russians and dastardly poles, and even the polish ladies and the little girl. i woke the next morning under a shed, horses harnessed, postillion on the box whipping, and a jew at their head holding them, and the two bipeds quarrelling furiously about the stabling. i threw the jew a florin, and he let go his hold, though my peasant shook his whip, and roared back at him long after we were out of sight and hearing. at a few miles' distance we came to a stopping-place, where we found a large calêche with four handsome horses, and the postillion in the costume of a peasant of cracow, a little square red cap with a red feather, a long white frock somewhat like a shooting-jacket, bordered with red, a belt covered with pieces of brass like scales lapping over each other, and a horn slung over his right shoulder. it belonged to a polish seigneur, who, though disaffected toward government, had succeeded in retaining his property, and was the proprietor of many villages. he was accompanied by a young man about thirty, who spoke a very little french; less than any man whom i ever heard attempt to speak it at all. they had with them their own servants and cooking apparatus, and abundance of provisions. the seigneur superintended the cooking, and i did them the honour to breakfast with them. while we were breakfasting a troop of wagoners or vagabonds were under the shed dancing the mazurka. the better class of poles are noble, high-spirited men, warm and social in their feelings, and to them, living on their estates in the interior of their almost untrodden country, a stranger is a curiosity and a treasure. the old seigneur was exceedingly kind and hospitable, and the young man and i soon became on excellent terms. i was anxious to have a friend in case of a new passport difficulty, and at starting gladly embraced his offer to ride with me. as soon as we took our seats in the calêche we lighted our pipes and shook hands as a bargain of good fellowship. our perfect flow of confidence, however, was much broken by the up-hill work of making ourselves understood. i was no great scholar myself, but his french was execrable; he had studied it when a boy, but for more than ten years had not spoken a word. at one time, finding it impossible to express himself, he said, "parlatis latinum?" "can you speak latin?" i at first thought it was some dialect of the country, and could not believe that he meant the veritable stuff that had been whipped into me at school, and which, to me, was most emphatically a dead language; but necessity develops all that a man has, and for three hours we kept up an uninterrupted stream of talk in bad latin and worse french. like every pole whom i met, except the employés in the public offices, from the bottom of his heart he detested a russian. he had been a soldier during the revolution, and lay on his back crippled with wounds when it was crushed by the capture of warsaw. i showed him the coin which had accidentally come into my hands, and when we came to the point where our roads separated, he said that he was ashamed to do so, but could not help begging from me that coin; to me it was merely a curiosity, to him it was a trophy of the brilliant but shortlived independence of his country. i was loath to part with it, and would rather have given him every button on my coat; but i appreciated his patriotic feeling, and could not refuse. i got out, and he threw his arms around me, kissed me on both cheeks, called me his friend and brother, and mounted the kibitka with the old seigneur. the latter invited me to go with him to his château, about a day's journey distant, and if i had expected to write a book i should certainly have done so. i went on again alone. at about twelve o'clock we arrived at the town of kielse. i felt nervous as we approached the barrier. i threw myself back in the calêche, and drew my cap over my eyes in grand seigneur style, the soldier touched his hat as he opened the gate, and we drove into the public square unmolested. i breathed more freely, but almost hesitated to leave the calêche while the horses fed. i smiled, however, at thinking that any effort to avoid observation was the very way to attract it, and went to a kukernia, where i drank coffee, ate bread encrusted with sugar, and smoked a pipe until my pole came in and kissed my foot as an intimation that the horses were ready. no questions were asked at the barrier; and we rode on quietly till nine o'clock, when we drove under the shed of a caravanserai. fifteen or twenty wagoners were eating off a bench, and, as they finished, stretched themselves on the floor for sleep. it was a beautiful moonlight night, and i strolled out for a walk. the whole country was an immense plain. i could see for a great distance, and the old shed was the only roof in sight. it was the last night of a long journey through wild and unsettled countries. i went back to the time when, on a night like that, i had embarked on the adriatic for greece; thought of the many scenes i had passed through since, and bidding farewell to the plains of poland, returned to my calêche, drew my cloak around me, and was soon asleep. at nine o'clock we stopped at a feeding-place, where a horde of dirty jews were at a long table eating. i brushed off one corner, and sat down to some bread and milk. opposite me was a beggar woman dividing with a child about ten years old a small piece of dry black bread. i gave them some bread and a jar of milk, and i thought, from the lighting up of the boy's face, that it was long since he had had such a meal. at twelve o'clock we reached michoof, the end of my journey with the calêche. i considered my difficulties all ended, and showed at the posthouse my letter from the polish captain to the commissario. to my great annoyance, he was not in the place. i had to procure a conveyance to cracow; and having parted with my poor pole overwhelmed with gratitude for my treatment on the road and my trifling gratuity at parting, i stood at the door of the posthouse with my carpet-bag in my hand, utterly at a loss what to do. a crowd of people gathered round, all willing to assist me, but i could not tell them what i wanted. one young man in particular seemed bent upon serving me; he accosted me in russian, polish, and german. i answered him in english, french, and italian, and then both stopped. as a desperate resource, and almost trembling at my own temerity, i asked him the question i had learned from my yesterday's companion "parlates latinum?" and he answered me with a fluency and volubility that again threw me into another perplexity, caught my hand, congratulated me upon having found a language both understood, praised the good old classic tongues, offered his services to procure anything i wanted, &c., and all with such rapidity of utterance that i was obliged to cry out with something like the sailor's "vast heaving," and tell him that, if he went on at that rate, it was all russian to me. he stopped, and went on more moderately, and with great help from him i gave him to understand that i wanted to hire a wagon to take me to cracow. "venite cum me," said my friend, and conducted me round the town until we found one. i then told him i wanted my passport _viséd_ for passing the frontier. "venite cum me," again said my friend, and took me with him and procured the _visé_; then that i wanted a dinner; still he answered "venite cum me," and took me to a trattoria, and dined with me. at dinner my classical friend did a rather unclassical thing. an enormous cucumber was swimming in a tureen of vinegar. he asked me whether i did not want it; and, taking it up in his fingers, ate it as a dessert, and drinking the vinegar out of the tureen, smacked his lips, wiped his mustaches with the tablecloth, and pronounced it "optimum." for three hours we talked constantly, and talked nothing but latin. it was easy enough for him, for, as he told me, at school it had been the language of conversation. to me it was like breaking myself into the treadmill; but, once fairly started, my early preceptors would have been proud of my talk. at parting he kissed me on both cheeks, rubbed me affectionately with his mustaches and, after i had taken my seat, his last words were, "semper me servate in vestra memoria." we had four and a half german, or about eighteen english, miles to cracow. we had a pair of miserable, ragged little horses, but i promised my postillion two florins extra if he took me there in three hours, and he started off so furiously that in less than an hour the horses broke down, and we had to get out and walk. after breathing them a little they began to recover, and we arrived on a gentle trot at the frontier town, about half way to cracow. my passport was all right, but here i had a new difficulty in that i had no passport for my postillion. i had not thought of this, and my classical friend had not suggested it. it was exceedingly provoking, as to return would prevent my reaching cracow that night. after a parley with the commanding officer, a gentlemanly man, who spoke french very well, he finally said that my postillion might go on under charge of a soldier to the next posthouse, about a mile beyond, where i could get another conveyance and send him back. just as i had thanked him for his courtesy, a young gentleman from cracow, in a barouche with four horses, drove up, and, hearing my difficulty, politely offered to take me in with him. i gladly accepted his offer, and arrived at cracow at about dark, where, upon his recommendation, i went to the hotel de la rose blanche, and cannot well describe the satisfaction with which i once more found myself on the borders of civilized europe, within reach of the ordinary public conveyances, and among people whose language i could understand. "shall i not take mine ease in mine own inn?" often, after a hard day's journey, i have asked myself this question, but seldom with the same self-complacency and the same determination to have mine ease as at cracow. i inquired about the means of getting to vienna, which, at that moment, i thought no more of than a journey to boston. though there was no particular need of it, i had a fire built in my room for the associations connected with a cheerful blaze. i put on my morning-gown and slippers, and hauling up before the fire an old chintz-covered sofa, sent for my landlord to come up and talk with me. my host was an italian, and an excellent fellow. attached to his hotel was a large restaurant, frequented by the first people at cracow. during the evening an old countess came there to sup; he mentioned to her the arrival of an american, and i supped with her and her niece; neither of them, however, so interesting as to have any effect upon my slumber. chapter xiv. cracow.--casimir the great.--kosciusko.--tombs of the polish kings.--a polish heroine.--last words of a king.--a hero in decay.--the salt-mines of cracow.--the descent.--the mines.--underground meditations.--the farewell. cracow is an old, curious, and interesting city, situated in a valley on the banks of the vistula; and approaching it as i did, toward the sunset of a summer's day, the old churches and towers, the lofty castles and the large houses spread out on the immense plains, gave it an appearance of actual splendour. this faded away as i entered, but still the city inspired a feeling of respect, for it bore the impress of better days. it contains numerous churches, some of them very large, and remarkable for their style and architecture, and more than a hundred monasteries and convents. in the centre is a large square, on which stands the church of notre dame, an immense gothic structure, and also the old palace of sobieski, now cut down into shops, and many large private residences, uninhabited and falling to ruins. the principal streets terminate in this square. almost every building bears striking marks of ruined grandeur. on the last partition of poland in eighteen hundred and fifteen by the holy alliance, cracow, with a territory of five hundred square miles and a population of a hundred and eight thousand, including about thirty thousand jews, was erected into a republic; and at this day it exists nominally as a _free city_, under the protection of the three great powers; emphatically, such protection as vultures give to lambs; three masters instead of one, russia, prussia, and austria, all claiming the right to interfere in its government. but even in its fallen state cracow is dear to the pole's heart, for it was the capital of his country when poland ranked high among nations, and down to him who last sat upon her throne, was the place of coronation and of burial for her kings. it is the residence of many of the old polish nobility, who, with reduced fortunes, prefer this little foothold in their country, where liberty nominally lingers, to exile in foreign lands. it now contains a population of about thirty thousand, including jews. occasionally the seigneur is still seen, in his short cassock of blue cloth, with a red sash and a white square-topped cap; a costume admirably adapted to the tall and noble figure of the proud pole, and the costume of the peasant of cracow is still a striking feature in her streets. after a stroll through the churches, i walked on the old ramparts of cracow. the city was formerly surrounded with regular fortifications, but, as in almost all the cities of europe, her ancient walls have been transformed into boulevards; and now handsome avenues of trees encircle it, destroying altogether its gothic military aspect, and on sundays and fête days the whole population gathers in gay dresses, seeking pleasure where their fathers stood clad in armour and arrayed for battle. the boulevards command an extensive view of all the surrounding country. "all the sites of my country," says a national poet, "are dear to me; but, above all, i love the environs of cracow; there at every step i meet the recollections of our ancient glory and our once imposing grandeur." on the opposite bank of the river is a large tumulus of earth, marking the grave of cracus, the founder of the city. a little higher up is another mound, reverenced as the sepulchre of his daughter wenda, who was so enamoured of war that she promised to give her hand only to the lover who should conquer her in battle. beyond this is the field of zechino, where the brave kosciusko, after his return from america, with a band of peasants, again struck the first blow of revolution, and, by a victory over the russians, roused all poland to arms. about a mile from cracow are the ruins of the palace of lobzow, built by casimir the great, for a long time the favourite royal residence, and identified with a crowd of national recollections; and, until lately, a large mound of earth in the garden was reverenced as the grave of esther, the beautiful jewess, the idol of casimir the great. poetry has embellished the tradition, and the national muse has hallowed the palace of lobzow and the grave of esther. "passer-by, if you are a stranger, tremble in thinking of human destruction; but if you are a pole, shed bitter tears; heroes have inhabited this palace.... who can equal them?... * * * * * "casimir erected this palace: centuries have hailed him with the name of the great.... * * * * * "near his esther, in the delightful groves of lobzow, he thought himself happy in ceasing to be a king to become a lover. * * * * * "but fate is unpitiable for kings as for us, and even beauty is subject to the common law. esther died, and casimir erected a tomb in the place she had loved. "oh! if you are sensible to the grief caused by love, drop a tear at this tomb and adorn it with a crown. if casimir was tied to humanity by some weaknesses, they are the appendage of heroes! in presence of this chateau, in finding again noble remains, sing the glory of casimir the great." i was not a sentimental traveller, nor sensible to the grief that is caused by love, and i could neither drop a tear at the tomb of esther nor sing the glory of casimir the great; but my heart beat high as i turned to another monument in the environs of cracow; an immense mound of earth, standing on an eminence visible from every quarter, towering almost into a mountain, and sacred to the memory of kosciusko! i saw it from the palace of the kings and from the ramparts of the fallen city, and, with my eyes constantly fixed upon it, descended to the vistula, followed its bank to a large convent, and then turned to the right, direct for the mound. i walked to the foot of the hill, and ascended to a broad table of land. from this table the mound rises in a conical form, from a base three hundred feet in diameter, to the height of one hundred and seventy-five feet. at the four corners formerly stood small houses, which were occupied by revolutionary soldiers who had served under kosciusko. on the farther side, enclosed by a railing, was a small chapel, and within it a marble tomb covering kosciusko's heart! a circular path winds round the mound; i ascended by this path to the top. it is built of earth sodded, and was then covered with a thick carpet of grass, and reminded me of the tumuli of the grecian heroes on the plains of troy; and perhaps, when thousands of years shall have rolled by, and all connected with our age be forgotten, and time and exposure to the elements shall have changed its form, another stranger will stand where i did, and wonder why and for what it was raised. it was erected in by the voluntary labour of the polish people; and so great was the enthusiasm, that, as an eyewitness told me, wounded soldiers brought earth in their helmets, and women in their slippers; and i remembered, with a swelling heart, that on this consecrated spot a nation of brave men had turned to my country as the star of liberty, and that here a banner had been unfurled and hailed with acclamations by assembled thousands, bearing aloft the sacred inscription, "kosciusko, the friend of washington!" the morning was cold and dreary, the sky was overcast with clouds, and the sun, occasionally breaking through lighted up for a moment with dazzling brilliancy the domes and steeples of cracow, and the palace and burial-place of her kings, emblematic of the fitful gleams of her liberty flashing and dazzling, and then dying away. i drew my cloak around me, and remained there till i was almost drenched with rain. the wind blew violently, and i descended and sheltered myself at the foot of the mound, by the grave of kosciusko's heart! i returned to the city and entered the cathedral church. it stands by the side of the old palace, on the summit of the rock of wauvel, in the centre of and commanding the city, enclosed with walls and towers, and allied in its history with the most memorable annals of poland; the witness of the ancient glory of her kings, and their sepulchre. the rain was pattering against the windows of the old church as i strolled through the silent cloisters and among the tombs of the kings. a verger in a large cocked hat, and a group of peasants, moved, like myself, with noiseless steps, as if afraid to disturb the repose of the royal dead. many of the kings of poland fill but a corner of the page of history. some of their names i had forgotten, or, perhaps, never knew until i saw them inscribed on their tombs; but every monument covered a head that had worn a crown, and some whose bones were mouldering under my feet will live till the last records of heroism perish. the oldest monument is that of wladislaus le bref, built of stone, without any inscription, but adorned with figures in bas-relief, which are very much injured. he died in thirteen hundred and thirty-three, and chose himself the place of his eternal rest. charles the twelfth of sweden, on his invasion of poland, visited the cathedral church, and stopped before this tomb. a distinguished canon who attended him, in allusion to the position of john casimir, who was then at war with the king of sweden, remarked, "and that king was also driven from his throne, but he returned and reigned until his death." the swede answered with bitterness, "but your john casimir will never return." the canon replied respectfully, "god is great and fortune is fickle;" and the canon was right, for john casimir regained his throne. i approached with a feeling of veneration the tomb of casimir the great. it is of red marble; four columns support a canopy, and the figure of the king, with a crown on his head, rests on a coffin of stone. an iron railing encloses the monument. it is nearly five hundred years since the palatins and nobles of poland, with all the insignia of barbaric magnificence, laid him in the place where his ashes now repose. the historian writes, "poland is indebted to casimir for the greatest part of her churches, palaces, fortresses, and towns," adding that "he found poland of wood and left her of marble." he patronized letters, and founded the university of cracow; promoted industry and encouraged trade; digested the unwritten laws and usages into a regular code; established courts of justice; repressed the tyranny of the nobles, and died with the honourable title of king of the peasants; and i did not forget, while standing over his grave, that beneath me slept the spirit that loved the groves of lobzow and the heart that beat for esther the jewess. the tomb of sigismund i. is of red marble, with a figure as large as life reclining upon it. it is adorned with bas-reliefs and the arms of the republic, the white eagle and the armed cavalier of lithuania. he died in fifteen hundred and forty-one, and his monument bears the following inscription in latin: "sigismund jagellon, king of poland, grand-duke of lithuania, conqueror of the tartars, of the wallachians, of the russians and prussians, reposes under this stone, which he prepared for himself." forty years ago thaddeus czacki, the polish historian, opened the tombs of the kings, and found the head of sigismund resting upon a plate of silver bearing a long latin inscription; the body measured six feet and two inches in height, and was covered with three rich ermines; on the feet were golden spurs, a chain of gold around the neck, and a gold ring on one finger of the left hand. at his feet was a small pewter coffin enclosing the body of his son by bone sforza. by his side lies the body of his son sigismund ii., the last of the jagellons, at whose death began the cabals and convulsions of an elective monarchy, by which poland lost her influence among foreign powers. his memory is rendered interesting by his romantic love for barbe radzewill. she appeared at his father's court, the daughter of a private citizen, celebrated in polish history and romance as uniting to all a woman's beauty a mingled force and tenderness, energy and goodness. the prince had outlived all the ardour of youth; disappointed and listless amid pleasures, his energy of mind destroyed by his excesses, inconstant in his love, and at the summit of human prosperity, living without a wish or a hope; but he saw barbe, and his heart beat anew with the pulsations of life. in the language of his biographer he proved, in all its fulness, that sentiment which draws to earth by its sorrows and raises to heaven by its delights. he married her privately, and on his father's death proclaimed her queen. the whole body of nobles refused to acknowledge the marriage, and one of the nuncios, in the name of the representatives of the nation, supplicated him for himself, his country, his blood, and his children, to extinguish his passion; but the king swore on his sword that neither the diet, nor the nation, nor the whole universe should make him break his vows to barbe; that he would a thousand times rather live with her out of the kingdom than keep a throne which she could not share; and was on the point of abdicating, when his opponents offered to do homage to the queen. when czacki opened the coffin of this prince, he found the body perfectly preserved, and the head, as before, resting on a silver plate containing a long latin inscription. at the foot of his coffin is that of his sister and successor, anne; and in a separate chapel is the tomb of stephen battory, one of the greatest of the kings of poland, raised to the throne by his marriage with anne. i became more and more interested in this asylum of royal dead. i read there almost the entire history of the polish republic, and again i felt that it was but a step from the throne to the grave, for near me was the great chair in which the kings of poland were crowned. i paused before the tomb of john casimir; and there was something strangely interesting in the juxtaposition of these royal dead. john casimir lies by the side of the brother whom he endeavoured to supplant in his election to the throne. his reign was a continued succession of troubles and misfortunes. once he was obliged to fly from poland. he predicted what has since been so fearfully verified, that his country, enfeebled by the anarchy of its government and the licentiousness of the nobles, would be dismembered among the neighbouring powers; and, worn out with the cares of royalty, abdicated the throne, and died in a convent in france. i read at his tomb his pathetic farewell to his people. "people of poland, "it is now two hundred and eighty years that you have been governed by my family. the reign of my ancestors is past, and mine is going to expire. fatigued by the labours of war, the cares of the cabinet, and the weight of age; oppressed with the burdens and vicissitudes of a reign of more than twenty-one years, i, your king and father, return into your hands what the world esteems above all things, a crown, and choose for my throne six feet of earth, where i shall sleep with my fathers. when you show my tomb to your children, tell them that i was the foremost in battle and the last in retreat; that i renounced regal grandeur for the good of my country, and restored my sceptre to those who gave it me." by his side, and under a monument of black marble, lies the body of his successor, michel wisniowecki, an obscure and unambitious citizen, who was literally dragged to the throne, and wept when the crown was placed upon his head, and of whom casimir remarked, when informed of his late subjects' choice, "what, have they put the crown on the head of that poor fellow?" and again i was almost startled by the strange and unnatural mingling of human ashes. by the side of that "poor fellow" lies the "famous" john sobieski, the greatest of the long line of kings of a noble and valorous nation; "one of the few, the immortal names, that were not born to die." on the lower floor of the church, by the side of poniatowski, the polish bayard, is the tomb of one nobler in my eyes than all the kings of poland or of the world. it is of red marble, ornamented with the cap and plume of the peasant of cracow, and bears the simple inscription "t. kosciusko." all over the church i had read elaborate panegyrics upon the tenants of the royal sepulchres, and i was struck with this simple inscription, and remembered that the white marble column reared amid the magnificent scenery of the hudson, which i had often gazed at from the deck of a steamboat, and at whose base i had often stood, bore also in majestic simplicity the name of "kosciusko." it was late in the afternoon, and the group of peasants, two poles from the interior, and a party of the citizens of cracow, among whom were several ladies, joined me at the tomb. we could not speak each other's language; we were born and lived thousands of miles apart, and we were strangers in our thoughts and feelings, in all our hopes and prospects, but we had a bond of sympathy at the grave of kosciusko. one of the ladies spoke french, and i told them that, in my far distant country, the name of their nation's idol was hallowed; that schoolboys had erected a monument to his memory. they knew that he had fought by the side of washington, but they did not know that the recollection of his services was still so dearly cherished in america; and we all agreed that it was the proudest tribute that could be paid to his memory, to write merely his name on his monument. it meant that it was needless to add an epitaph, for no man would ask, who was kosciusko? it was nearly dark when i returned to my hotel. in the restaurant, at a small table directly opposite me, sat the celebrated chlopicki, to whom, on the breaking out of the last revolution, poland turned as to another kosciusko, and who, until he faltered during the trying scenes of that revolution, would have been deemed worthy to lie by kosciusko's side. born of a noble family, a soldier from his birth, he served in the memorable campaigns of the great patriot, distinguished himself in the polish legions in italy under dombrowski, and, as colonel of a regiment of the army of the vistula, behaved gloriously in prussia. in spain he fought at saragossa and sagunta, and was called by suchet _le brave des braves_; as general of brigade in the army of russia, he was wounded at valentina, near smolensk, and was general of a division in eighteen hundred and fourteen, when poland fell under the dominion of the autocrat. the grand-duke constantine censured him on parade, saying that his division was not in order; and chlopicki, with the proud boast, "i did not gain my rank on the parade-ground, nor did i win my decorations there," asked his discharge the next day, and could never after be induced to return to the service. the day after the revolutionary blow was struck, all poland turned to chlopicki as the only man capable of standing at the head of the nation. the command of the army, with absolute powers, was conferred upon him by acclamation, and one of the patriot leaders concluded his address to him with these words: "brother, take the sword of your ancestors and predecessors, czarnecki, dombrowski, and kosciusko. guide the nation that has placed its trust in you in the path of honour. save this unhappy country." chlopicki, with his silver head grown white in the service of poland, was hailed by a hundred thousand people on the champ de mars with shouts of "our country and its brave defender, chlopicki, for ever." he promised never to abuse their confidence, and swore that he would defend the liberty of poland to the last moment. the whole nation was enthusiastic in his favour; but in less than three months, at a stormy session of the diet, he threw up his high office of dictator, and refused peremptorily to accept command of the army. this brave army, enthusiastically attached to him, was struck with profound grief at his estrangement; but, with all the faults imputed to him, it never was charged that he attempted to take advantage of his great popularity for any ambitious purposes of his own. at the battle of grokow he fought nominally as a private soldier, though skryznecki and radziwill being both deficient in military experience, the whole army looked to him for guidance. once, when the battle was setting strong against the poles, in a moment of desperation he put himself at the head of some disposable battalions, and turning away from an aiddecamp who came to him for orders, said, "go and ask radziwill; for me, i seek only death." grievously wounded, his wounds were dressed in presence of the enemy; but at two o'clock he was borne off the field, the hopes of the soldiers died, and the army remained without any actual head. throughout the revolution his conduct was cold, indifferent, and inexplicable; private letters from the emperor of russia were talked of, and even _treason_ was whispered in connexion with his name. the poles speak of him more in sorrow than in anger; they say that it was not enough that he exposed his person on the field of battle; that he should have given them the whole weight of his great military talents, and the influence of his powerful name; that, standing alone, without children or relations to be compromised by his acts, he should have consummated the glory of his life by giving its few remaining years for the liberty of his country. he appeared about sixty-five, with hair perfectly white, a high florid complexion, a firm and determined expression, and in still unbroken health, carrying himself with the proud bearing of a distinguished veteran soldier. i could not believe that he had bartered the precious satisfaction of a long and glorious career for a few years of ignoble existence; and, though a stranger, could but regret that, in the wane of life, circumstances, whether justly or not, had sullied an honoured name. it spoke loudly against him that i saw him sitting in a public restaurant at cracow, unmolested by the russian government. the next day i visited the celebrated salt-mines at wielitska. they lie about, twelve miles from cracow, in the province of galicia, a part of the kingdom of poland, which, on the unrighteous partition of that country, fell to the share of austria. although at so short a distance, it was necessary to go through all the passport formalities requisite on a departure for a foreign country. i took a fiacre and rode to the different bureaux of the city police, and, having procured the permission of the municipal authorities to leave the little territory of cracow, rode next to the austrian consul, who thereupon, and in consideration of one dollar to him in hand paid, was graciously pleased to permit me to enter the dominions of his master the emperor of austria. it was also necessary to have an order from the director of the mines to the superintendent; and furnished with this i again mounted my fiacre, rattled through the principal street, and in a few minutes crossed the vistula. at the end of the bridge an austrian soldier stopped me for my passport, a _douanier_ examined my carriage for articles subject to duty, and, these functionaries being satisfied, in about two hours from the time at which i began my preparations i was fairly on my way. leaving the vistula, i entered a pretty, undulating, and well-cultivated country, and saw at a distance a high dark line, marking the range of the carpathian mountains. it was a long time since i had seen anything that looked like a mountain. from the black sea the whole of my journey had been over an immense plain, and i hailed the wild range of the carpathian as i would the spire of a church, as an evidence of the approach to regions of civilization. in an hour and a half i arrived at the town of wielitska, containing about three thousand inhabitants, and standing, as it were, on the roof of the immense subterraneous excavations. the houses are built of wood, and the first thing that struck me was the almost entire absence of men in the streets, the whole male population being employed in the mines, and then at work below. i rode to the office of the superintendent, and presented my letter, and was received with great civility of manner but his _polish_ was perfectly unintelligible. a smutty-faced operative, just out of the mines, accosted me in latin, and i exchanged a few shots with him, but hauled off on the appearance of a man whom the superintendent had sent for to act as my guide; an old soldier who had served in the campaigns of napoleon, and, as he said, become an amateur and proficient in fighting and french. he was dressed in miner's costume, fanciful, and embroidered with gold, holding in his hand a steel axe; and, having arrayed me in a long white frock, conducted me to a wooden building covering the shaft which forms the principal entrance to the mine. this shaft is ten feet square, and descends perpendicularly more than two hundred feet into the bowels of the earth. we arranged ourselves in canvass seats, and several of the miners, who were waiting to descend, attached themselves to seats at the end of the ropes, with lamps in their hands, about eight or ten feet below us. when my feet left the brink of the shaft i felt, for a moment, as if suspended over the portal of a bottomless pit; and as my head descended below the surface, the rope, winding and tapering to a thread, seemed letting me down to the realms of pluto. but in a few moments we touched bottom. from within a short distance of the surface, the shaft is cut through a solid rock of salt, and from the bottom passages almost innumerable are cut in every direction through the same bed. we were furnished with guides, who went before us bearing torches, and i followed through the whole labyrinth of passages, forming the largest excavations in europe, peopled with upward of two thousand souls, and giving a complete idea of a subterraneous world. these mines are known to have been worked upward of six hundred years, being mentioned in the polish annals as early as twelve hundred and thirty-seven, under boleslaus the chaste, and then not as a new discovery, but how much earlier they had existed cannot now be ascertained. the tradition is, that a sister of st. casimir, having lost a gold ring, prayed to st. anthony, the patron saint of cracow, and was advised in a dream that, by digging in such a place, she would find a treasure far greater than that she had lost, and within the place indicated these mines were discovered. [illustration: salt-mines of wielitska.] there are four different stories or ranges of apartments; the whole length of the excavations is more than six thousand feet, or three quarters of an hour's walk, and the greatest breadth more than two thousand feet; and there are so many turnings and windings that my guide told me, though i hardly think it possible, that the whole length of all the passages cut through this bed of salt amounts to more than three hundred miles. many of the chambers are of immense size. some are supported by timber, others by vast pillars of salt; several are without any support in the middle, and of vast dimensions, perhaps eighty feet high, and so long and broad as almost to appear a boundless subterraneous cavern. in one of the largest is a lake covering nearly the whole area. when the king of saxony visited this place in eighteen hundred and ten, after taking possession of his moiety of the mines as duke of warsaw, this portion of them was brilliantly illuminated; and a band of music, floating on the lake, made the roof echo with patriotic airs. we crossed the lake in a flatboat by a rope, the dim light of torches, and the hollow sound of our voices, giving a lively idea of a passage across the styx; and we had a scene which might have entitled us to a welcome from the prince of the infernals, for our torch-bearers quarrelled, and in a scuffle that came near carrying us all with them, one was tumbled into the lake. our charon caught him, and, without stopping to take him in, hurried across, and as soon as we landed beat them both unmercifully. from this we entered an immense cavern, in which several hundred men were working with pickaxes and hatchets, cutting out large blocks of salt, and trimming them to suit the size of barrels. with their black faces begrimed with dust and smoke, they looked by the light of the scattered torches like the journeymen of beelzebub, the prince of darkness, preparing for some great blow-up, or like the spirits of the damned condemned to toil without end. my guide called up a party, who disengaged with their pickaxes a large block of salt from its native bed, and in a few minutes cut and trimmed it to fit the barrels in which they are packed. all doubts as to their being creatures of our upper world were removed by the eagerness with which they accepted the money i gave them; and it will be satisfactory to the advocates of that currency to know that paper money passes readily in these lower regions. there are more than a thousand chambers or halls, most of which have been abandoned and shut up. in one is a collection of fanciful things, such as rings, books, crosses, &c., cut in the rock-salt. most of the principal chambers had some name printed over them, as the "archduke," "carolina," &c. whenever it was necessary, my guides went ahead and stationed themselves in some conspicuous place, lighting up the dark caverns with the blaze of their torches, and, after allowing me a sufficient time, struck their flambeaux against the wall, and millions of sparks flashed and floated around and filled the chamber. in one place, at the end of a long, dark passage, a door was thrown open, and i was ushered suddenly into a spacious ballroom lighted with torches; and directly in front, at the head of the room, was a transparency with coloured lights, in the centre of which were the words "excelso hospiti," "to the illustrious guest," which i took to myself, though i believe the greeting was intended for the same royal person for whom the lake chamber was illuminated. lights were ingeniously arranged around the room, and at the foot, about twenty feet above my head, was a large orchestra. on the occasion referred to a splendid ball was given in this room; the roof echoed with the sound of music; and nobles and princely ladies flirted and coquetted the same as above ground; and it is said that the splendid dresses of a numerous company, and the blaze of light from the chandeliers reflected upon the surface of the rock-salt, produced an effect of inconceivable brilliancy. my chandeliers were worse than allan m'aulay's strapping highlanders with their pine torches, being dirty, ragged, smutty-faced rascals, who threw the light in streaks across the hall. i am always willing to believe fanciful stories; and if my guide had thrown in a handsome young princess as part of the welcome to the "excelso hospiti," i would have subscribed to anything he said; but, in the absence of a consideration, i refused to tax my imagination up to the point he wished. perhaps the most interesting chamber of all is the chapel dedicated to that saint anthony who brought about the discovery of these mines. it is supposed to be more than four hundred years old. the columns, with their ornamented capitals, the arches, the images of the saviour, the virgin and saints, the altar and the pulpit, with all their decorations, and the figures of two priests represented at prayers before the shrine of the patron saint, are all carved out of the rock-salt, and to this day grand mass is regularly celebrated in the chapel once every year. following my guide through all the different passages and chambers, and constantly meeting miners and seeing squads of men at work, i descended by regular stairs cut in the salt, but in some places worn away and replaced by wood or stone, to the lowest gallery, which is nearly a thousand feet below the surface of the earth. i was then a rather veteran traveller, but up to this time it had been my business to move quietly on the surface of the earth, or, when infected with the soaring spirit of other travellers, to climb to the top of some lofty tower or loftier cathedral; and i had fulfilled one of the duties of a visiter to the eternal city by perching myself within the great ball of st. peter's; but here i was far deeper under the earth than i had ever been above it; and at the greatest depth from which the human voice ever rose, i sat down on a lump of salt and soliloquized, "through what varieties of untried being, through what new scenes and changes must we pass!" i have since stood upon the top of the pyramids, and admired the daring genius and the industry of man, and at the same time smiled at his feebleness when, from the mighty pile, i saw in the dark ranges of mountains, the sandy desert, the rich valley of the nile and the river of egypt, the hand of the world's great architect; but i never felt man's feebleness more than here; for all these immense excavations, the work of more than six hundred years, were but as the work of ants by the roadside. the whole of the immense mass above me, and around and below, to an unknown extent, was of salt; a wonderful phenomenon in the natural history of the globe. all the different strata have been carefully examined by scientific men. the uppermost bed at the surface is sand; the second clay occasionally mixed with sand and gravel, and containing petrifactions of marine bodies; the third is calcareous stone; and from these circumstances it has been conjectured that this spot was formerly covered by the sea, and that the salt is a gradual deposite formed by the evaporation of its waters. i was disappointed in some of the particulars which had fastened themselves upon my imagination. i had heard and read glowing accounts of the brilliancy and luminous splendour of the passages and chambers, compared by some to the lustre of precious stones; but the salt is of a dark gray colour, almost black, and although sometimes glittering when the light was thrown upon it, i do not believe it could ever be lighted up to shine with any extraordinary or dazzling brightness. early travellers, too, had reported that these mines contained several villages inhabited by colonies of miners, who lived constantly below, and that many were born and died there, who never saw the light of day; but all this is entirely untrue. the miners descend every morning and return every night, and live in the village above. none of them ever sleep below. there are, however, two horses which were foaled in the mines, and have never been on the surface of the earth. i looked at these horses with great interest. they were growing old before their time; other horses had perhaps gone down and told them stories of a world above which they would never know. it was late in the afternoon when i was hoisted up the shaft. these mines do not need the embellishment of fiction. they are, indeed, a wonderful spectacle, and i am satisfied that no traveller ever visited them without recurring to it as a day of extraordinary interest. i wrote my name in the book of visiters, where i saw those of two american friends who had preceded me about a month, mounted my barouche, and about an hour after dark reached the bank of the vistula. my passport was again examined by a soldier and my carriage searched by a custom-house officer; i crossed the bridge, dined with my worthy host of the hotel de la rose blanche, and, while listening to a touching story of the polish revolution, fell asleep in my chair. and here, on the banks of the vistula, i take my leave of the reader. i have carried him over seas and rivers, mountains and plains, through royal palaces and peasants' huts, and in return for his kindness in accompanying me to the end, i promise that i will not again burden him with my incidents of travel. the end. a new classified and descriptive catalogue of harper & brothers' publications has just been issued, comprising a very extensive range of literature, in its several departments of history, biography, philosophy, travel, science and art, the classics, fiction, &c.; also, many splendidly embellished productions. the selection of works includes not only a large proportion of the most esteemed literary productions of our times, but also, in the majority of instances, the best existing authorities on given subjects. this new catalogue has been constructed with a view to the especial use of persons forming or enriching their literary collections, as well as to aid principals of district schools and seminaries of learning, who may not possess any reliable means of forming a true estimate of any production; to all such it commends itself by its explanatory and critical notices. the valuable collection described in this catalogue, consisting of about _two thousand volumes_, combines the two-fold advantages of great economy in price with neatness--often elegance of typographical execution, in many instances the rates of publication being scarcely one fifth of those of similar issues in europe. *** copies of this catalogue may be obtained, free of expense, by application to the publishers personally, or by letter, post-paid. to prevent disappointment, it is requested that, whenever books ordered through any bookseller or local agent can not be obtained, applications with remittance be addressed direct to the publishers, which will be promptly attended to. _new york, january, ._ list of corrections: p. : "voznezeuski" was changed to "vosnezeuski." p. : "the last time in the _calèche_" was changed to "the last time in the _calêche_." p. : "merchandize" was changed to "merchandise" as elsewhere in the book. p. : "the men where nowhere" was changed to "the men were nowhere." p. : "sailed down the dneiper from kief" was changed to "sailed down the dnieper from kief." p. : "of a lilach colour" was changed to "of a lilac colour." p. : "diebisch directed the strength" was changed to "diebitsch directed the strength." errata: the summary in the table of contents is not always consistent with the summary at the beginning of each chapter. the original has been retained. [transcriber's note: bold text is surrounded by =equal signs= and italic text is surrounded by _underscores_.] our little russian cousin the little cousin series (trade mark) each volume illustrated with six or more full page plates in tint. cloth, mo, with decorative cover per volume, cents list of titles by mary hazelton wade, mary f. nixon-roulet, blanche mcmanus, clara y. winlow, florence e. mendel and others our little african cousin our little alaskan cousin our little arabian cousin our little argentine cousin our little armenian cousin our little australian cousin our little austrian cousin our little belgian cousin our little bohemian cousin our little boer cousin our little brazilian cousin our little bulgarian cousin our little canadian cousin our little chinese cousin our little cuban cousin our little danish cousin our little dutch cousin our little egyptian cousin our little english cousin our little eskimo cousin our little french cousin our little german cousin our little grecian cousin our little hawaiian cousin our little hindu cousin our little hungarian cousin our little indian cousin our little irish cousin our little italian cousin our little japanese cousin our little jewish cousin our little korean cousin our little malayan (brown) cousin our little mexican cousin our little norwegian cousin our little panama cousin our little persian cousin our little philippine cousin our little polish cousin our little porto rican cousin our little portuguese cousin our little russian cousin our little scotch cousin our little servian cousin our little siamese cousin our little spanish cousin our little swedish cousin our little swiss cousin our little turkish cousin the page company beacon street, boston, mass. [illustration: petrovna.] our little russian cousin by mary hazelton wade _illustrated by_ l. j. bridgman [illustration] boston the page company publishers _copyright, _ by l. c. page & company (incorporated) _all rights reserved_ twelfth impression, april, thirteenth impression, august, fourteenth impression, april, fifteenth impression, july, the colonial press c. h. simonds co., boston, u. s. a. preface a large country, called russia, lies in the eastern part of europe. it stretches from the icy shores of the arctic ocean, on the north, to the warm waters of the black sea, on the south. many of the children of this great country have fair skins and blue eyes. they belong to the same race as their english and american cousins, although they speak a different language. some of them live in palaces, and have everything that heart could desire; but a vast number of them are very poor, and their parents are obliged to work hard to keep the grim wolf, hunger, away from the door. russia, as a nation, is very young, as compared with many others. she is still in her childhood. perhaps it is because of this that her people do not enjoy as much freedom as ourselves. a few years ago the emperor of russia spoke some words to which the people of the western world listened with surprise and delight. he said, "i wish there were peace between all countries, and that we could settle our differences with each other without fighting." these wise words did a great deal of good. the emperor, without doubt, meant what he said. he did wish heartily that wars should be at an end. he has not felt able, however, to carry out his ideas of peace, for at this very moment he is at war with the people of japan. let us hope that this war will soon be over, and that the nation to which our russian cousin belongs will become as truly free and wise as she is now large and powerful. malden, mass., _may _. list of illustrations page petrovna _frontispiece_ baby brother and his nurse a very grand building in the peasant village marfa and frost the great fair of nijni-novgorod our little russian cousin petrovna is a dainty little floweret of the cold lands far away. she is your little russian cousin. her home is in the largest country of this great round ball, the earth. how fair are her cheeks, how blue her eyes, and what long, beautiful, yellow hair she has! her hands are so white and soft and plump, i know you would like to squeeze them. she is very gentle and ladylike. her mamma has taught her that is the right way to behave. yet she is full of fun, and laughs at every joke that her brother ivan makes. they have great sport together, these two children. petrovna is ten, and ivan eight years old. sometimes they play they are grown up, just as you do. then petrovna puts on her mother's gown with a long train, and ivan dresses himself up like a soldier. petrovna "makes believe" that she is a princess at the court of the emperor. she powders her hair, and puffs it on the top of her head, and places feathers in it. ivan cuts shining ornaments out of a sheet of tin and fastens them on his coat. he pretends that these were given him for bravery in battle. these little children live in a fine city near the sea. its name is st. petersburg. the streets look very much like those of chicago and new york. there are many grand palaces, however, and the churches are quite different from ours. perhaps you would like to know why st. petersburg was built. a long time ago peter the great was the ruler of russia. there was no large city in the country near the sea at that time. peter said, "if my country is to be powerful, i must have a city that is near the coast and that looks toward the rest of europe." peter went to the shores of the river neva, near the baltic sea. the land was low and marshy. that did not matter to him. he sent out an order for workmen. great numbers of men came to the spot he had chosen, to prepare it for streets and houses. thousands of piles must first be driven into the marshy soil. millions of stones must be brought to fill it up before streets could be laid. it was such unhealthful work that, before the city was finished, hundreds of the poor workmen died of fever. but the work was done, and peter the great went to live there. he brought all his court with him. he made the place his capital. it is now the most important city of russia, and one of the largest in the world. it is often called the "czar's window," because he is said to look out over europe from this place. (i forgot to tell you that the emperor of russia is called the czar.) let us come back to petrovna and ivan, who are just going out on the river to skate. their home is almost a palace, it is so big and grand. their father is a merchant. he buys tea from the east and sells it to the people of his own country. he has grown so rich that he owns a fine house in the city, in which the family live during the long, cold winter. they go to another home on an island of the river neva in the summer-time. let us look into the big drawing-room, where papa and mamma entertain their friends in the evening. how high the walls are! at one side of the room is an immense porcelain stove. it looks somewhat like a tomb. it is big enough for a play-house for petrovna and ivan. a big wood fire is built in the stove on cold winter mornings. when it has burnt down to glowing coals, the chimney is closed up, and port-holes from the stove are opened. then the heat rushes out into the room. how close the air becomes! you do not wonder at it when you look around and notice that there are three sets of windows at each casing. there is only one pane in the whole room which can be opened to let in the outside air. the russians are afraid of having the cold enter their houses. they have enough of it out-of-doors during at least six months of the year. what is that strange-looking vessel on the side table? it is of shining copper. the maid polishes it very often, as it is used every evening by papa and mamma. they call it a "samovar," and no russian home is complete without one. you probably can't guess the reason, so i will have to tell you. you must understand that the people of this far-away land are great tea-drinkers. tea in the morning, tea at noon, tea at night, and tea between-whiles. they like it fresh, too. tea always tastes best and is least harmful when drunk as soon as it is made. so these good russians must have something near them on which to heat the water. in the middle of the samovar is a cylinder in which hot coals are placed, and the water is heated around this cylinder. the boiling water is taken out whenever it is wanted and poured on the tea in papa's tumbler or mamma's cup. no milk, if you please, to suit their taste, and no sugar _in_ the tea. they prefer to take a lump of the very hardest sugar in their fingers and nibble it as they swallow the beverage they like so much. a slice of lemon is often put in the tumbler with the tea. people in our own country have begun to copy this custom, and drink what we call "russian tea." no doubt you have heard of it. let us turn to the wall and notice the large picture of the madonna and the infant jesus hanging there. a lamp is burning in front of it. if petrovna comes into the room now, she will go to that picture at once and cross herself before it. every devout russian has at least one religious picture in his house, and will always pay it reverence when he enters. if a thief should happen to come into petrovna's house in the night, he would not dare to steal in the presence of such a picture, however brave he might be. he would first hang a cloth over the painting. then he would go on with his wicked work without further thought. there is a large organ in this grand drawing-room. it is played almost automatically. (a big word, isn't it?) petrovna and ivan have music boxes here, as the russians are very fond of music. i fear they are rather lazy, though, for many of their musical instruments do not depend on the skill of those who play upon them. they make what we call mechanical music. [illustration: baby brother and his nurse.] there are several little tables about the room, as petrovna's mamma and papa are fond of playing cards with their friends. indeed, you need not be surprised at seeing the rich merchant playing a game at his store any hour of the day. he smokes and drinks tea while he plays. and mamma does the same. yes, my dears, the women of russia, of your own white race, roll their dainty cigarettes and smoke them as commonly as the men do. petrovna will doubtless do this very thing when she is older. when she comes to america she will probably be much surprised to see only men practising the habit. petrovna and ivan go to bed much later than their cousins across the atlantic, while their parents often sit up till three or four o'clock in the morning. such a gay city as they live in! balls and parties, theatres and sleigh-rides, night after night in the winter season. of course people cannot rise early for breakfast if they are awake nearly all night. it is not often that petrovna's papa goes to his store before ten or eleven o'clock in the morning. the whole city looks sleepy and dismal before that time. the sky is gray and dreary, and the fog is thick and damp. the stores are closed, and few people are to be seen. but it is dinner-time. here come the children with their skates on their arms, and with them are the nurse and their baby brother. he has been out for a ride in his little sleigh. he is wrapped up so tightly you can hardly see his fat cheeks and the dimple in his chin. as nurse takes off her hood and cape, i want you to notice her dress. it is the national costume of russia. she wears a loose white undergarment with full short sleeves. it is low in the neck. she has a dark skirt over this. the band is fastened around her body under the arms, while straps over the shoulders hold it in place. i must not forget to mention a large white apron, which is fastened by a belt around her waist. nor would she think herself dressed without her ear-rings and bead necklace. the moment her hood is taken off she puts a high cap of bright-coloured muslin on her head. this is always worn in the house to show she is a married woman. and here come papa and mamma. papa is a fine-looking man with a long beard. mamma looks good and kind, and has a sweet voice, but she could not be called pretty. dinner is waiting, and all have fine appetites. as they enter the dining-room they do not sit down to the table at once. one by one they go up to a sideboard where all sorts of cold dishes are served. there are dried beef, smoked salmon, cheese, radishes, and other relishes of which russians are fond. each one helps himself to some of these dainties. they take small portions, however, for this is what they call the zakushka, or appetiser. you need not try to pronounce it unless you wish. it is to make them hungrier for the solid meal, which comes afterward. how these people do eat! first there is cabbage soup, made of chopped cabbage which has been boiled with a piece of meat. petrovna first dips her spoon into a dish of barley beside her plate, and then into the soup. she is very fond of this national dish. the richest and the poorest people, even the czar himself, eat it continually and never tire of it. the only difference is that the poor peasant can seldom afford the meat which improves its flavour so much. next comes a pie made of fish and raisins. it seems rather queer to us to have these two things cooked together, but our russian cousins think it is very good. and now a roast lamb is served with salted cucumbers, followed by buckwheat pudding, and ices, for dessert. last, but not least, the samovar is set on the table, and cup after cup of delicious tea is drunk by the family. i forgot to tell you that sour cream was served with the soup, and papa and mamma drank some cordial while they ate of the zakushka. this was to encourage their appetites still more. but i certainly can't see what need there was. they ate and ate, and drank tea and still more tea, till it seemed as if they would be made ill. it is said that russians are among the largest eaters in the world. if this be so, i do not wonder that so many of them grow stout. this makes me think of a story i read the other day. perhaps you would like to hear it. there was a certain soldier in russia who ate so much that his friends used to lay wagers with strangers as to the quantity he could eat at a single time. his friends generally won, too. it happened one day that the colonel of the regiment made a large wager that the man could eat a whole sheep at one meal. the cook prepared the sheep in many ways, in order to encourage the man's appetite. of one part he made a pie, of another a stew, of still another a hash, and so on. the man swallowed one preparation after another until the sheep was almost eaten, when he looked up and said, "if you give me so much zakushka, i am afraid i will not be able to eat the sheep when it is brought in." you understand the joke, of course, when you remember that the zakushka is made of the side dishes one eats before the regular meal is begun. of course the colonel won his bet. besides the cabbage soup, there are still others of which the russians are very fond. one of these is made with cold beer with pieces of cucumber, meat, and red herrings floating about in it, as well as bits of ice. still another is made of a fish called the sterlet, which is found only in the volga, the principal river of russia. then there are trout soup, perch soup, and several other kinds of which you probably never heard. but now let us leave the dinner-table and go out into petrovna's yard. at one end of it there is a high platform. it is built at least twenty feet above the ground. steps lead up to it on one side, while from the other a long slant reaches down to a frozen pond below. this slant looks as though it were solid shining ice. but underneath there are stout boards to keep it smooth and unbending. they are fastened to a very strong framework. now guess, if you please, why this ice hill, as it is called, was made in petrovna's back yard. to amuse her and her little brother, of course. they are very fond of coasting. they like it even better than skating. so their thoughtful papa hired two workmen. they made the framework and laid great blocks of ice close together upon the slant. they then poured water over the ice to make it perfectly smooth. the cold winds blew upon it. it froze solid in a few minutes, and not a crack in the ice can be seen. it will last all winter, for in russia the warm days, that we sometimes have in january, are scarcely known. petrovna and ivan take their sleds every morning as soon as lessons are over, and away they run up the steps of their ice hill. hurrah! now hold your breath, for away they go, faster and faster, down the hill and over the pond below. how they shout with delight! they travel more quickly than any express train you ever saw. i am afraid you will be a little envious of their fun and wish you had a private ice hill like theirs. the best part of it is that these little russians don't have to wait for a good snow-storm to make coasting for them. it is always on hand and made to order. petrovna has a hill made of polished wood at her summer home on the island. it cost a good deal of money, but her papa thought, "what does that matter? the children like coasting better than any other sport, so coasting they shall have." there are public ice-hills in several parts of the city. both old and young people are very fond of coasting. the emperor himself has a slide of beautiful mahogany in his palace. it has been polished until it shines like one of the finest pieces of furniture. petrovna and ivan do not go to school as some of the poor children do. they have a french governess. she teaches them to read, write, and spell. she also gives them lessons in french and german. she is a fine scholar, and petrovna's papa and mamma respect her greatly. she is treated like one of the family and meets all of their friends. petrovna's mamma wished her children's governess to be a frenchwoman, because french is generally spoken in good society in russia. of course she can teach them to pronounce it better than a person of their own country could. besides the two languages they are studying now, ivan and petrovna will soon take latin, and perhaps italian. well-educated people of russia often speak several different languages. but there are thousands, yes, millions of the poor in their land who cannot read their own language or even write their own names! the schools are not as common, you see, as in this country, but they are growing better every year. by the way, i must tell you that there are more than forty different tongues spoken in the various parts of the great country of russia. if you learned to speak the russian language in one part of it, you might not understand what the people say in a different part. in petrovna's yard there is a little house close to the main one. if she should let you look in, you would see a large brick oven at the end of the room. wide shelves are fastened one above another on the side of the wall. you can't imagine what this place is used for, so i shall certainly have to tell you. it is the family bath-house. i can hear you cry, "what a bath-house! i don't see any tub, or, in fact, _anything_ that looks like a bath-house." but the children of russia do not take water baths as you do. they are bathed by steam. every saturday a big fire is made in the stove, and when the bricks are very hot, water is poured over them. the room is filled with hot steam. petrovna delights in this weekly bath. at first she lies on a low shelf until she gets quite warm. the perspiration starts out all over her little naked body. then her maid places her on a higher shelf and pours more water over the stove. more steam rises, and petrovna grows warmer and warmer. it seems as though she would suffocate. now for a still higher shelf in the room. of course the higher up the little girl goes, the hotter she grows. the water fairly runs out of the pores of her skin, now. instead of looking like a lily, she would remind you of a boiled lobster. shouldn't you think she would get cold after a hot bath like that, especially as she is going out of doors into the freezing air? she never does, however, and i will tell you why. when she has been steamed enough, she is slowly cooled off by having first warm and then cold water poured over her. when all is finished, and she has been rubbed down, she feels as fresh and sweet as a flower. she is ready for the next day's duty and pleasure now. to-morrow is the sabbath, and every good russian takes his bath on the day before. sunday morning comes. every one of the family wears his holiday clothes, for, after breakfast, all will attend church service. petrovna's mamma has promised to take her to-day to the cathedral of st. mark. she is so pleased she can hardly wait till the time comes to put on her wraps. no hat for her, if you please. that would not keep her dear little head warm enough. she wears a hood with a deep cape, and a long white cloak of astrakhan. perhaps you have a muff of the same material. i wonder if you think it is fur. astrakhan is the soft white fleece taken from the new-born lamb of a peculiar kind of sheep. the sooner the baby lamb is killed, the handsomer is the wool. every year thousands of sheep are raised in asia so that the beautiful white, gray, and black astrakhan can be sent to russia, and to people in other parts of the world. petrovna wears her hood and cloak with the wool inside to keep her all the warmer. her mamma has a hood and cloak of the richest sable. it cost thousands of dollars. you cannot see its beauty, for she wears it with the fur on the inside to keep her comfortable, just as petrovna does. the sleigh is at the door, and it is time to leave. what a curious one it is! it is low and small, and the back of the seat is so low that petrovna might fall over backward if she were not used to it. there is just room enough for the little girl and her mamma, with a small seat in front for the coachman. notice his queer clothes and his funny-looking hat. it makes you think of a battered stovepipe. the upper part of the crown is much wider than the lower part, and the narrow brim curls up. his blue cloak is quite loose, and has a long plaited skirt. it is fastened on one side with six metal buttons. a heavy leather belt is clasped around his waist. observe the horses. they are fine-looking animals, but how queerly they are harnessed. the middle one has a high wooden yoke about his neck. the rest of the harness is fastened to that. the horses on the outside are attached to the one in the middle by a single rein. they are left quite free in their motions. they are called madmen. some sleighs have one horse, some two, and some three. and now petrovna and her mamma are seated, the fur robes are tucked snugly in, the coachman jumps to his seat and makes a kind of clucking noise. the horses rush onward at a furious rate, and still petrovna calls out, "faster!" she is not afraid of accident, nor is she satisfied, although the horses seem to be doing their best. russians are not fond of exercising themselves, but they dearly like to be moved as fast as possible. this is why they like sleighing and coasting better than any other sports. as petrovna rides along she finds that the streets are full of sleighs, yet they do not sound so merry as they do in our own land. what is the difference? there are no sleigh-bells. there is a law that none can be used in the cities of russia. i will tell you the reason. there are so many sleighs, and the streets are so crowded with them (for hardly any person walks), that the drivers would get confused by the sound of so many bells, and run into each other. there is a very severe punishment for the one who causes such an accident. but strange to say, although there is so much driving, few people are injured. the coachmen are very careful, although they probably drive faster than the people of any other country. [illustration: a very grand building.] in a few minutes petrovna and her mamma arrive in front of a very grand building. this is the cathedral. papa and the rest of the family drive up at the same time, and all alight. see the crowd of beggars at the gates! there are poor men and women who ask for enough money to buy a dinner of coarse black bread. there are nuns who are asking alms to support their convent. few people are willing to refuse at the very doors of the church. the cathedral is built in the shape of a cross. all churches in russia are built in the same way. but notice these massive steps. each is cut out of a single block of granite. stand off a little and look at the great, shining dome. it is made of copper but is covered thickly with gold. it is so far up, and shines so brightly in the sunlight, that it is a beacon-light to the sailors far out on the sea. now let us follow our little cousin and enter the cathedral. how dark, and yet how beautiful it is! there are no seats. rich and poor are standing together in worship. see those great columns of beautiful stones. the delicate sea-green is malachite. that heavenly blue is lapis lazuli. does it not make you think of fairy-land? notice, please, the number of beautiful pictures. there are no statues or images in the building, because the russian church does not think it right to worship them. listen to the music. there is no organ, but hidden from sight is a choir of men who are chanting. are not their voices fine? would you not like to stay all day to listen to such music? but what is petrovna doing? as she entered the church she bought a candle at a stand near the door. now she brings it to a shrine at the side of the great building. she offers it to a priest, who lights it and places it in a silver stand in front of the sacred picture. there are several holes in the stand, in which other candles are burning. the priest allows each candle to burn only a minute or two, because many other people keep coming up. they wish to have their candles burn there also. as our dear little cousin stands there crossing herself devoutly, let us notice the picture of the madonna before which the candles are burning. her dress, as well as the halo around her head, is fairly covered with gold and silver and precious stones. good and pious people have spent thousands of dollars for these beautiful gems. the only parts not covered are the face and hands. the background, even, is covered with gold. there are many other such shrines in the cathedral. a white-robed priest attends to the candles, which are kept burning night and day in each one of these shrines. the church is filled with the odour of incense. through the faint blue smoke we can still watch petrovna as she stands throughout the service. now and then she bows her body to the floor, or crosses herself as some sacred name is repeated. and now it is over. a ride once more, and home is reached. the rest of the day is given up to play and pleasure. papa goes to his club for a game of cards. perhaps petrovna and ivan will go out coasting, or mamma will take them for a visit to some friends. after church service, sunday in russia is a gala-day for rich and poor. it is a time for parties in winter, and picnics in the summer-time. sometimes in the morning petrovna and her brother go to early market with the maid. it is more fun in winter than in summer, even though "jack frost" is on the watch to nip off their noses. snow is everywhere to be seen on the housetops and fences, and great drifts of snow are being dug out in the streets. icicles are hanging from every corner. yes, jack frost is a merry-looking fellow, but he is ready to bite you if he has half a chance. petrovna touches her nose and cheeks every little while to be sure they are not numb. it is so easy in northern russia to find oneself with a frozen ear or nose. a disagreeable surprise party, indeed. but the market! you never saw anything like it. it is well that it is called "the frozen market." here are whole sheep standing on their stiff, frozen legs, and looking at you with their frozen eyes. beside them are pigs with their four legs pulled outwards, and looking, oh! so queer and odd. quails, grouse, chickens, ducks, partridges,--all kinds of fowls and game, and all frozen. they have been frozen for weeks, and will stay so in this frosty air till they are handed over to the hard-hearted cooks. then into the oven they will go, and come out, brown and tender, on the dinner-table. russia is a great place for game of all kinds. in the market there are great piles of fish in a solid frozen heap. petrovna takes hold of a string, and lifts a brick of frozen milk. that is the way milk is sold. no quart measures are needed in winter in st. petersburg. the children ask the maid to take the long way home, for they wish to look again at the statue of their loved kriloff. how dear he is to all russian children! his stories of dogs, cats, rabbits, foxes, squirrels, and other living creatures, bring them nearer to the hearts of everybody. the figures of many of the animals that live in his stories are carved on his monument. but look! what is all this commotion about? see the crowd gathering on the sidewalks. the street is cleared by the police, for the emperor is coming, the great white czar. first comes a squadron of cavalry, and behind them is the royal sleigh. it is drawn by two beautiful horses. three officers sit in the sleigh with the emperor. what a fine face and figure he has! he looks kind and noble, but worn with the cares of his great empire. as he passes along, the people cheer with might. they love him with all their hearts. he is the head of their church. he is the father of this great people. they worship him, and would save him all his care if they could. but alas! there are enemies in this very city who may even now be plotting to take his life. they do not believe in kings, nor, indeed, in rulers of any kind. they work secretly against him with other people all over russia. although from time to time they are discovered and killed or sent into exile, others take their places. this great ruler, who is warmly loved by his subjects, is in danger of his life all the time. no wonder he looks so careworn. petrovna and ivan look long and tenderly after him, cheering till their little throats are quite tired out. then they hurry home to tell mamma what they have seen to-day. at dinner ivan said, "papa, i wish you would tell me something about the cossacks. they seem to go everywhere the czar does. i noticed them in the body of cavalry this morning. they look and dress so differently from us, but they ride their horses nobly. i would like to look like a cossack when on horseback." "they are noble men, indeed," said papa. "their home is far away from us, in the south of russia. a long time ago they were at war with us, but now they are good friends and strong defenders of our country. in time of war they are the spies and scouts. they are so faithful that the emperor can feel perfectly safe when they are near. they pay no taxes, but give their services in the army instead." "papa," interrupted ivan, "why do they wear long beards and have no buttons on their coats? that is not like the rest of the cavalry. and they carry no cartridge-boxes." "that is true," was the reply. "the cossacks detest buttons, and hook their coats over, just as ladies often do. the cartridges are carried in a row of pockets on the breasts of their coats. you see they are a very independent people, and insist on dressing in their own manner. the czar allows them to do so because they are so good in other ways. "you should see them in war. they dare to go into the greatest of dangers. they admire bravery more than anything else in the world. just before a battle they wash themselves and dress with the greatest care. they believe that they must be clean if they would enter heaven. but when the battle is over they draw up in line, leaving empty places for their fellows who have fallen. then they sing sad songs in memory of them. "in their own home they treat each other like brothers, and share the land in common. they are good to their cattle and horses. after a long march they will always care for their horses and feed them before doing anything for themselves. before they eat they always wash themselves, oil their hair, and pray. they are as fond of tea as we are, my boy. "but this is enough for to-night. i hope you will study your history carefully as you grow older. i want you to know more about the cossacks, as well as many other interesting people who live in this great strong country of ours." not many miles from the fine city in which petrovna lives are some other children whose home is very different from hers. their parents are peasants who were serfs not many years ago. a serf was one kind of slave, for he belonged either to the emperor or some rich nobleman. he could be bought and sold just like a horse. but the grandfather of the present czar said, "my people must all be free. no human being in my empire shall be a slave any longer." that was the end of serfdom. but these people are still very, very poor. few of them can read a book. many of them are lazy and fond of strong drink. they live in little villages all over russia. there are more peasants than all other classes of people in the country. petrovna's papa must soon go to one of these villages on business. his little daughter is going with him. she is sorry for the poor peasants. she wishes she could give their children some pretty playthings like hers. she carries a new red skirt for a little girl there whom she knows. the village looks very bare in the winter season. it is still more so in the summer time. no trees, no sidewalks, scanty gardens, and scarcely what you could call a street. only wide pathways between the rows of huts, which are huddled together. there is only one two-story house in the place. this is owned by the storekeeper or village merchant. he sells the peasants everything they need to buy. he is not of the peasant class himself. he came to live here in order to make money out of these poor men and women. the village well, from which every one in the place draws his water, is near his house. on the side of the well hangs a sacred picture, so that every one who comes there may worship first. [illustration: in the peasant village.] on the front of each hut are three little windows, close together. the sashes and frames are painted a bright red, or perhaps a gaudy purple. the russian peasant is very fond of colour, and will work hard for the sake of a new red shirt for himself or a yellow skirt for his wife. the porch and doorway are on one side of the hut. in summer time an earthen kettle hangs down from the roof, and as the father comes home from his work he will stop a moment and tip a little water out of the kettle over his hands. he rubs them together and wipes himself on the tail of his shirt. this is the only washing he has except the weekly steaming in the village bath-house. look at the flocks of pigeons around the house. they are very tame. they appear well fed and fat. in russia the pigeon or dove is a sacred bird and is never harmed. the rough peasant will share his last crust with a pigeon. petrovna goes to the door of one of the cottages and passes inside. oh dear, how close the place is! it smells strongly of the cabbage soup boiling for the day's dinner. only one small room in the house. yet there is a large family of children living here, besides half a dozen shaggy-haired dogs. with the exception of the big brick stove, there is no furniture except what the father made himself. in one corner of the room is a rickety table. a narrow bench is built against the wall on two sides of the room. there are no chairs and no beds. how do they get along? and yet they seem quite happy and comfortable. papa and mamma sleep up on top of the big stove. the older children sleep beside them. don't worry, my dears. they do not get burned, but like their hard, warm bed very much. the logs burn down to ashes in the daytime. the bricks are just pleasantly warm by night. but the little girl to whom petrovna has brought the dress, and her three-year-old brother, where do they sleep? on the benches against the walls. if they should have bad dreams and tumble off in the night, it would not matter so very much, for the bench is near the floor. when meal time comes, the family does not gather around the table, for as i told you, there are no seats that can be moved. they sit on the benches, and the table is therefore kept in the corner of the room. they can sit at only two sides of it, of course. but i have not yet spoken of the most important thing in the house. it is the ikon, or sacred picture. the priest blessed it before it was brought to the home. there is a place for a candle to burn in front of it, but these poor people cannot afford to keep one lighted all the time. this picture has no gold upon it, like the one in petrovna's house. it cost only a few pennies, but it is sacred, nevertheless. the family give it reverence many times a day. it is never forgotten as they enter the room. it sometimes happens, i am sorry to say, that the father comes home the worse for taking strong drink. perhaps he cannot walk straight, and hangs his head from side to side. but when he opens the door, he remembers to turn to the sacred picture and cross himself before it. although there is so little furniture and so few windows, the room looks bright and gay. the table is painted a gorgeous red, while the benches are a brilliant green. black bread made from coarse rye-meal, cabbage soup, weak tea (for they cannot afford to have it strong), are the daily food of the peasants. if they can get some buckwheat and dried herring, once in awhile, they think themselves well-off. they have many happy times, these poor people of russia. when work is done for the day, they dance and sing, and play upon the concertina, if any one in the village owns one of these cheap musical instruments. when petrovna takes out the red dress for the little girl and a large package of buckwheat which mamma has sent to the family, every one in the house shouts with delight. it seems as though they could not thank her enough. even the dogs wake up and begin to bark in excitement. in the midst of it all petrovna's papa calls for her. she must go back to the grand city and her fine home. she will forget for a time that all children in the world cannot be as well dressed and well fed as herself. petrovna has never yet been far away from st. petersburg. she longs to go to the beautiful white-walled city of moscow. her mamma has been there, and has described its beauties over and over again. it is a long journey from st. petersburg. as you draw near the city, a blaze of colour is spread out before you. domes of red and gold and purple are shining on the hilltops in the glorious sunlight. churches and towers and palaces are without number, and differ from each other in shape and beauty. moscow is a mass of colour made of countless gems and countless tints. in the midst of the city is the kremlin or citadel. but the kremlin is not one building. it is really a fortress surrounded by a massive wall that encloses many palaces and cathedrals, beautiful gardens and stately convents. great gates open into it, and each has its story. one of them is called the nicholas gate. a picture of st. nicholas, whom the russians worship, hangs over it. at one time the french were at war with the russians. they stormed this gate and split its solid stonework, but the picture was unharmed. "it is a miracle," the people said. there is a picture of the virgin over another gate. the french tried to get this picture, but they did not succeed. this was another miracle, all thought, and no one passes through that gate now without taking off his hat. within the kremlin are other sacred pictures, which the people believe can work miracles. the oil of baptism is prepared and blessed by the high-priest in a certain cathedral in moscow. it is sent to every church in russia, that all new-born children may be baptised with it. petrovna's mamma went to the city of moscow when the czar was crowned. he could not be formally made emperor in st. petersburg. that was not to be thought of. all czars must be married as well as crowned in moscow, and, until the time of peter the great, all have been buried there. the coronation of the present czar was the greatest spectacle of modern times. petrovna hears her mamma sigh when she tries to describe it. everything was so grand and shining and gorgeous,--processions and fireworks, music and feasting, everybody pleased and gaily dressed; men in silk and velvet, ladies sparkling in satins covered with pearls and diamonds; the double-headed eagle, the bird of russia, showing its gilded crowns everywhere. in the evening there were no rockets and roman candles, but fireworks that were constantly shining, while the fronts of the buildings were covered with candles burning in glass globes. such horses, such elegant carriages, and such fine parks to drive in! and through the city ran the river, reflecting the lights from all sides. there were days and days of feasting, from the time the new emperor arrived in the city. he appeared in the grand procession mounted on a snow-white horse. he was dressed very simply in dark green, wearing a cap of astrakhan. behind him came a great array of princes and grand-dukes. next came the emperor's mother in a carriage drawn by eight superb horses. after this appeared the carriage of the empress. it was all of gold, and also drawn by eight snow-white horses. how the crowd cheered, and cheered again! if this could show how devoted the people were to their ruler, their love could not be measured. the governor of the city came out to meet the czar and presented him with bread and salt. these are the emblems of trust and friendship. then the royal family rode onward till they came to a little chapel, where the emperor and empress alighted. they passed in alone to worship. now to the kremlin, where a multitude was waiting for them. there were thousands of the peasants, who had travelled hundreds of miles on foot. they wished to see, if only for one moment, the head of their church and state. there were princes and officers from every country of the world. there were chinese mandarins, persian rulers, wealthy indians, people of all colours and races. and all were dressed in the richest robes that money could buy and art design. such a mass of colour! such sparkling of precious stones! such a wealth of satin and lace and velvet and cloth of silver and gold! after his entrance of triumph into the city, the emperor and empress retired from the public eye for three days. they must fast and pray until the time that the czar should be crowned, else they would not be in right condition for this ceremony. but the others in the crowded city did not fast. the days were given to pleasures of all kinds,--eating, drinking, music, and dancing. at last the czar was crowned! it was in the cathedral, where all other czars have been crowned before. he himself put on the robe and collar, and assumed the crown of empire. the heavy crown of gold was placed on his head by his own hands. he then made a noble prayer for himself and the great empire, and for the millions of people who are his devoted subjects. how fair and strong and kindly was his face! never had petrovna's mamma seen anything so grand or so solemn. she stops and repeats a prayer now for the good emperor nicholas ii. when the ceremony was ended there was a ringing of bells all over the city. hundreds of cannon were fired. then more feasting and merriment followed for days yet to come. free dinners were served every day to five thousand of the poor. the czar did not forget them. they feasted as they had never done before in their lives. at last came the great day of the festival. it was called the "people's fête." every one was welcome. there were shows of all kinds that you can imagine. there were concerts and plays, boxing and fencing matches, trained animals,--everything to make the people happy. overlooking it all sat the czar in a grand pavilion. all the lords and ladies of the land were about him. how delightful it was! petrovna's mamma leans back in her chair and smiles softly to herself as she thinks of that joyful time. on many a winter evening, as they sit around the big porcelain stove and sip the tea, petrovna and ivan beg for stories. they like fairy tales best of all. their favourite one is the story of "frost." perhaps you would like to hear it. once upon a time there was a man who had three children. his wife was extremely fond of two of the daughters, but she was cruel and unkind to the third girl, whose name was marfa. this was because marfa was her stepdaughter. she made marfa get up early in the morning to work, while her stepsisters were having a nice nap. the poor girl had to feed the cattle, bring in the wood, make the fire, and sweep the room. after this she must mend the clothes and do many other things before the rest of the family stirred. what a hard time she had, poor child! and then she was only scolded for her labour. she did not have a kind word from any one except her old father, and then only when they were alone together. he was afraid of his wife, and did not dare to be good to marfa when the others were around. she was a beautiful girl, and was sweet and patient, besides. her stepmother was jealous of her because she was so much lovelier than her sisters. the old woman said to herself, "i will put the girl out of my sight and get rid of her. i hate her." that very night she said to her husband, "come, old man, get up early in the morning and harness the horse. take marfa away on a visit." then she turned to her stepdaughter, and said, "put your clothes together and dress neatly when you get up, for your father will be ready to take you away." the girl was delighted. she thought how nice it would be to go where people would be kind to her. morning came. marfa washed herself carefully, prayed to god, put on her best dress, and looked lovely enough to be a bride. [illustration: marfa and frost.] the old stepmother called her to a breakfast of cold cabbage soup, and then said to her, "now, marfa, get out of my sight for ever. i have seen enough of you. the sledge is at the door. husband, take marfa to her bridegroom. go straight down the road, turn to the right, go up the hill till you come to an old pine-tree, and there leave the girl for frost. he will soon come to get her." the poor old father looked sad enough when he heard these words, but he did not dare to disobey his wife. he and marfa got into the sledge and rode away slowly. his daughter was weeping bitterly. in a little while they came to the place where they were ordered to stop. marfa got out and sat down under the pine-tree. the old man rode away. he thought he should never see his darling child again. he wept at the thought soon he was out of sight. there was nothing but snow for marfa to look upon now. the ground was covered with great drifts. the bushes were buried under it. the branches of the trees were bending under its weight. not a sound could be heard save the falling of icicles and the creaking steps of frost as he leaped from tree to tree. marfa was chilled through. her teeth chattered. her lips were blue and stiff. she was too cold to sob or cry out. frost was coming nearer and nearer. pretty soon he was in the tree above marfa's head. he cried out, "maiden, are you warm?" "oh, yes, quite warm enough, dear father frost," she answered. then he came down from the tree. now she was almost frozen. he called again, "are you warm, my sweet girl? are you sure you are warm enough?" by this time marfa was so numb she could hardly move her lips. but she tried to answer, "oh, yes, dearest sir, i am warm enough." frost took pity on the poor patient maiden. he brought furs and warm blankets and wrapped her up in them. then he left her. she slept unharmed all night, and, when she woke in the morning, she found gifts of rich clothing which frost had brought her in the night. her father soon appeared with the sledge. he had expected to find her dead body, but she was well and healthy. not even a finger was frozen. how the old man rejoiced. he took marfa and her fine presents into the sledge, and they rode home together. you can imagine how angry the stepmother was when she saw the girl again. but when she heard how kind frost had been, and saw the beautiful clothing he had given marfa, she said, "husband, you must take my girls to their bridegroom. he will be far kinder to them than he has been to marfa, i am sure of that." then she said to her daughters, "i have found a bridegroom for you. you must go to meet him." the next morning the girls got up and dressed themselves in their best. they were very happy. they thought to themselves, "oh, my, what a fine time we shall have!" they got into the sledge with their father and away they went. they soon came to the pine-tree where marfa had stayed the other night. they got out and sat down. their father drove away. the girls began to laugh together. they said, "what a queer idea of mother to send us here for a bridegroom,--as if there were not enough young men in the village." it was bitter cold, and they soon began to get cross and quarrel with each other. one of them said, "suppose only one bridegroom comes, whom will he take?" "it will be i, of course," was her sister's reply. "indeed, no," exclaimed the other; "i will be the chosen one." they grew colder and colder, stiffer and stiffer. but they kept quarrelling and calling each other bad names. frost was some way off, but the girls now heard him cracking his fingers and snapping the pine-trees. "listen, some one is coming. i hear sleigh-bells," said the older sister. but the other would not listen. she declared she was too cold. frost came nearer and nearer. at last he stood in front of the two girls. he spoke to them just as he had to marfa before. "well, my darlings, are you cold?" but the girls only answered with bad words. they called frost names such as no wise person would dare to speak to this great being. yet again he called out, "are you warm, my pretty ones?" and again they answered him with curses. but as they did so they fell dead to the ground. the next morning the old woman said to her husband, "come, harness the horse quickly, and go fetch the girls home. there was a terrible frost last night. they must be half-dead with cold." the father did as she bid him, and drove away to the pine-tree. but what did he see? two lifeless bodies, frozen stiff! he put them in the sledge, covered them over, and carried them home. as he drove up to the cottage, the old woman went out to meet her daughters. what a sight was there! the girls had indeed met their bridegroom, but it was death. after this the old woman treated her stepdaughter all the worse for awhile, but she soon got over it. she grew kind and loving. they lived pleasantly ever after. marfa married a neighbour who had a good home to give her. she and her children are very happy. but when her children are naughty, their grandfather frightens them by saying, "look out, or frost will get you." petrovna and ivan shiver as the story ends, and draw nearer their dear mamma, as though she could protect them from any danger. the long, cold winter is gone at last. the ice of the river begins to break up. it has been frozen solid for months, but now it is cracking and softening and beginning to move out to the sea. the commander of the fort on the opposite side of the river discovered this last midnight. he did not wait a single moment. he started at once to carry the glad news to the emperor, while cannon were fired off from the fort. when he reached the palace, perhaps you think the attendants kept him waiting because the czar was asleep. not at all. he was shown at once into the royal presence. he presented the czar with a goblet filled with ice-cold water he had brought from the river. this was his way of stating the good news. the emperor drank to the good fortune of the city, and then filled the goblet with silver for the bringer of the news. in olden times the goblets grew larger every year. it cost the czar more money each time. at last he said, "let the glass always be of a certain size, after this." of course, that settled it. when the news was brought to the city, everybody was glad. the next day was made a holiday. petrovna and ivan were excused from lessons and went out to see the sights. eight weeks before easter, comes butter-week. the whole city gives itself up for seven days of feasting and festival. pancakes are eaten at every meal. not like the pancakes your mamma makes, my dears. at least, i hope not. for the russian pancakes, or "blinni," as they are called, are much too rich for your little stomachs. they are made of flour and butter, cooked in butter, and eaten with butter. and not only is this greasy food eaten in quantities, but many other things containing a great deal of fat. petrovna's mamma has a blinni party for her friends, and petrovna has another for her playmates. the family are invited out to blinni parties at other houses. they are the queerest parties you ever heard of. even in the grandest houses they are held in the kitchen. perhaps you can guess the reason. the cakes must be eaten hot, as soon as they come off the griddle. therefore the people must sit as near the stove as possible. petrovna eats her favourite cakes, until she can swallow nothing more. by the end of the week her head, as well as her stomach, begins to ache. she is all ready for the seven weeks of fasting before easter. she is a faithful little girl, and never thinks of fussing because she must now live very quietly. she goes often to church, and repeats many prayers. she eats the simplest food, but all russia does the same, so she has plenty of company. the night before easter comes at last. petrovna and ivan do not go to bed as early as usual. they leave home with their parents a little while before midnight. they are going to church. everybody else in the city goes, too. the streets are full of carriages as they ride along. our little russian cousins are driven to the same cathedral to which you have been with them before. they enter and join the crowd of worshippers. the lights burn dimly. all is silent. the great bell begins to ring the midnight hour. the other bells of the city join. as the last stroke is sounded the priests come out through the doors of the sanctuary. listen! they are chanting, "christ is risen! christ is risen!" the people respond, "christ is risen." at the beginning of the chant all begin to move around, kissing friends and acquaintances in every direction. the bells keep pealing forth the glad news. cannon are fired off throughout the city. rockets are flashing in the sky. the cathedral itself suddenly becomes ablaze with light. the kissing lasts all night and during the next day. no one thinks of meeting another without a cordial greeting and a kiss. old men kiss each other. old women kiss, children kiss. the emperor kisses all those of his household. petrovna's papa kisses his clerks. petrovna herself, dear little maiden, kisses right and left, with the most loving heart in the world. for this is easter-time, the glorious time when all should love each other and show it as best they can. feasting begins with the kissing. it is a great holiday for everybody. petrovna's mamma has a grand dinner-party for her friends. but she does not forget those who are not so well off as herself. many a basket of good things is sent out to poor homes. many a blessing is given our little petrovna, who rides about the city leaving her mamma's gifts. yes, indeed, it is a beautiful time, this easter day in russia. as the weather gets warmer, petrovna begins to look forward to the great fair of nijni-novgorod. it will be a long, long journey. she has never travelled so far in her life before. but dear kind papa has promised her she shall go with him this time. he travels there himself every year to trade with the merchants of far-away countries. the day before they are ready to start, he comes home earlier than usual from his place of business. he says, "come, petrovna and ivan, ask the maid to put on your best clothes. i am going to take you to the winter palace. you have teased me to take you there often enough. hurry, or we shall not have time." the children scamper away. they are soon dressed. their papa looks at his pretty children with pride, as he helps them into the carriage. away they dash over the pavements till they draw up in front of an immense building. it is painted brownish-red and yellow. the outside is ornamented with the figures of angels, and many other beautiful things. this is the winter palace. it is the largest residence in the whole world. six thousand people live in it. shouldn't you be afraid of getting lost there? there is a story that a servant kept some cows in one of the garrets there, a long time ago, and no one found it out for a long while. petrovna and ivan open their eyes wide as they pass through the high gilded halls; they see so many beautiful things to admire. such richly carved chairs and tables! such immense vases of malachite and jasper and porphyry! so many fine paintings of the czars and generals and other great people of russia! in the throne-room of peter the great the walls are hung with red velvet. golden eagles are beautifully embroidered upon it. but the royal jewels! how petrovna's blue eyes sparkle as she looks upon the crown of her emperor. it is in the shape of a dome, and is studded with large diamonds, with a border of pearls. at the very top of it is an immense ruby. it is very beautiful. the empress's coronet is most dainty. it is of diamonds of the same size. it is enough to dazzle one with its beauty. in the room where these jewels are kept and guarded there are many others noted all over the world. the sceptre of the czar bears one of the largest diamonds ever discovered. many years ago a rich count gave it to the empress catherine ii. there are bracelets and necklaces and coronets made of precious stones. it seems as though petrovna and ivan had suddenly landed in the cave of aladdin. but it is getting late. it is long after their dinner hour. they must leave these beautiful sights and hasten home to mamma. the morning for the great journey comes. it finds our russian cousins awake bright and early. the trunks are strapped, the dear baby brother is fondly kissed, and papa, mamma, petrovna, and ivan begin their long ride. they pass many little villages as the express train rushes along. then they go onward over great plains of barley and rye. the train is crowded with others, who are taking the same journey as themselves, and papa talks with many friends who have business at the great fair. they travel all day and all night, besides several hours of the next day. as they near the end, the weather grows warmer, the trees are larger and the grass greener than at home. for they are farther south. they are too tired to look out of the windows any longer. petrovna is dozing away, and dreaming of her loved ice-hill, when she finds herself gently shaken. mamma is smiling at her and saying, "wake up, my darling, we are here at last." the train has stopped. every one is getting out. our little cousins are helped out of the car into a comfortable low carriage and are driven to a grand hotel. a good dinner is served, and petrovna and ivan are put to bed. they must get rested and prepare for the excitement of the coming week. they are both so tired and sleepy they are glad to rest after the long, hard journey. perhaps you do not know that this great fair is held every year for the benefit of the people of asia as well as russia. after a long night's sleep our merchant's family go out into the streets of the old city and see many curious sights. men of many nations are gathered together. chinamen with their long queues and big sleeves are jostling persians in flowing silk robes and gay turbans. here are cossacks mounted on fine horses acting as policemen. there are some gypsies on their way to the fair. they expect to tell fortunes and make much money out of the curious peasants. [illustration: the great fair of nijni-novgorod.] what a bustle and commotion! what a discord of strange languages on every side! what variety of costumes, and, above all, what dust! the fair grounds are about a mile from the hotel. our little cousins are in as much of a hurry to get there as you would be. it does not take long, however, for the driver of their carriage hurries his horses onward through the crowd. now for the fair itself. it is arranged in the shape of a triangle, and covers a square mile. not an inch of space is wasted. everything is in order. every trade has a street of its own. many of the bazaars have signs in front. these bear the names of all the goods that are sold inside. petrovna's papa is, of course, interested most in the tea. he wishes to buy a large stock of it for his trade at home. there are many kinds to choose from. but he must be sure to get some of the delicious yellow tea, which he will sell for fifteen dollars a pound. it is said to be made from the flowers of a certain kind of tea-plant, and is quite rare. the wealthy people of russia like it so much that no one else in the world gets a chance to buy any. so i have heard, at least. if you should drink ever so little of it, you might be kept awake all night. yet it looks very weak. besides many expensive teas, petrovna's papa orders a large supply of tea-bricks. they are made out of the refuse of the tea, and can be sold to the peasants. poor creatures! they are glad enough to get this poor stuff, if they cannot afford better. now follow petrovna as she stops at the booth of this richly dressed persian. see the beautiful rugs and carpets hung up for sale. they will last a lifetime for those who have money enough to buy them. here is a whole street devoted to the sale of silks. there are many beautiful shades. petrovna shall have a piece of delicate yellow to make her a new party dress, while her mamma chooses one of rich brocade. it is heavy enough to stand alone. let us go with our travellers and look with them at these exquisite gems,--amethysts, crystals, and the clearest of topaz. petrovna's papa will buy one of these, no doubt. he will have it set in a ring to give his wife. besides all the rich and rare things which asia can send to the fair, russia furnishes many things to exchange with her great neighbour. there are all kinds of goods, which have been made in the factories of her cities. the most important are the cotton goods, the cutlery, and the fine articles of silver. there are also immense stores of wheat, barley, and other grains, and quantities of dried fruits. especially for her own people, there are bazaars and bazaars filled with samovars of every style, rich furs from the animals of the cold lands of the north, and candles by millions. day after day, petrovna and ivan wander about the fair grounds. each time they see something new they wish to buy. when they are tired of looking about in the bazaars, they go to one of the concert-halls. they will be sure to hear some music they like. or else they go to a theatre, and see a play that makes them laugh till their sides are sore. perhaps they watch the performance of some jugglers, and try to discover how they do their wonderful tricks. quite often they go into one of the restaurants with papa. while he is drinking tea and talking over prices with the men he meets, the children have a dainty lunch, and watch the waiters. what queer-looking people they are! they are tartars. they look much like the chinese, except that their heads are shaven. they wear white linen shirts and trousers. their feet are bound with pieces of cloth and encased in sandals. among other things, petrovna watches a band of gypsies. they are the very ones she saw in the streets the day she arrived in the city. some of them are old and withered and ugly. they look like witches. but others are young and quite handsome, with their black hair and bright dark eyes. the women wear bright-coloured handkerchiefs around their heads, and shawls over their shoulders. look! watch that young girl as she dances and twirls her skirt. she is certainly very pretty and graceful. she stops now and comes up to petrovna. she wishes to tell her fortune. mamma says yes. our little girl gives the gypsy a piece of silver and holds out her hand. the gypsy notices her fine clothing, looks well at her mamma, then closely examines the little white palm. she tells the child that she will be very happy and do much good in the world. as she grows up she will marry a rich count and live in a grand mansion. she says many more pleasant things will happen, and petrovna smiles and believes it all. let us leave our dear little cousin here for the present. let us hope that the gypsy's prophecy is a true one. the end. the little colonel books (trade mark) _by annie fellows johnston_ _each vol., large mo, cloth, illustrated, per vol._ $ . the little colonel stories (trade mark) being three "little colonel" stories in the cosy corner series, "the little colonel," "two little knights of kentucky," and "the giant scissors," put into a single volume. the little colonel's house party (trade mark) the little colonel's holidays (trade mark) the little colonel's hero (trade mark) the little colonel at boarding school (trade mark) the little colonel in arizona (trade mark) the little colonel's christmas vacation (trade mark) the little colonel, maid of honour (trade mark) the little colonel's knight comes riding (trade mark) mary ware: the little colonel's chum (trade mark) _these ten volumes, boxed as a ten-volume set._ $ . =the little colonel= (trade mark) =two little knights of kentucky= =the giant scissors= =big brother= special holiday editions each one volume, cloth decorative, small quarto, $ . new plates, handsomely illustrated with eight full-page drawings in color, and many marginal sketches. =in the desert of waiting=: the legend of camelback mountain. =the three weavers=: a fairy tale for fathers and mothers as well as for their daughters. =keeping tryst= =the legend of the bleeding heart= =the rescue of princess winsome=: a fairy play for old and young. =the jester's sword= each one volume, tall mo, cloth decorative $ . paper boards . there has been a constant demand for publication in separate form of these six stories, which were originally included in six of the "little colonel" books. =joel: a boy of galilee=: by annie fellows johnston. illustrated by l. j. bridgman. new illustrated edition, uniform with the little colonel books, vol., large mo, cloth decorative $ . a story of the time of christ, which is one of the author's best-known books. =the little colonel good times book= uniform in size with the little colonel series $ . bound in white kid (morocco) and gold . cover design and decorations by amy carol rand. the publishers have had many inquiries from readers of the little colonel books as to where they could obtain a "good times book" such as betty kept. mrs. johnston, who has for years kept such a book herself, has gone enthusiastically into the matter of the material and format for a similar book for her young readers. every girl will want to possess a "good times book." =asa holmes=: or, at the cross-roads. a sketch of country life and country humor. by annie fellows johnston. with a frontispiece by ernest fosbery. large mo, cloth, gilt top $ . 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"an up-to-date french fairy-tale which fairly radiates the spirit of the hour,--unceasing diligence."--_chicago record-herald._ =o-heart-san= the story of a japanese girl. by helen eggleston haskell. small quarto, cloth decorative, illustrated and decorated in colors by frank p. fairbanks $ . "the story comes straight from the heart of japan. the shadow of fujiyama lies across it and from every page breathes the fragrance of tea leaves, cherry blossoms and chrysanthemums."--_the chicago inter-ocean._ =the young section-hand=: or, the adventures of allan west. by burton e. stevenson. square mo, cloth decorative, illustrated $ . mr. stevenson's hero is a manly lad of sixteen, who is given a chance as a section-hand on a big western railroad, and whose experiences are as real as they are thrilling. =the young train dispatcher.= by burton e. stevenson. square mo, cloth decorative, illustrated $ . 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"the red feathers" tells of the remarkable adventures of an indian boy who lived in the stone age, many years ago, when the world was young. =flying plover.= by theodore roberts. cloth decorative. illustrated by charles livingston bull $ . squat-by-the-fire is a very old and wise indian who lives alone with her grandson, "flying plover," to whom she tells the stories each evening. =the wreck of the ocean queen.= by james otis, author of "larry hudson's ambition," etc. cloth decorative, illustrated $ . "a stirring story of wreck and mutiny, which boys will find especially absorbing. the many young admirers of james otis will not let this book escape them, for it fully equals its many predecessors in excitement and sustained interest."--_chicago evening post._ =little white indians.= by fannie e. ostrander. cloth decorative, illustrated $ . 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"mothers and fathers and kind elder sisters who take the little ones to bed and rack their brains for stories will find this book a treasure."--_cleveland leader._ =the sandman=: more farm stories. "children will call for these stories over and over again."--_chicago evening post._ =the sandman=: his ship stories. "little ones will understand and delight in the stories and their parents will read between the lines and recognize the poetic and artistic work of the author."--_indianapolis news._ =the sandman=: his sea stories. "once upon a time there was a man who knew little children and the kind of stories they liked, so he wrote four books of sandman's stories, all about the farm or the sea, and the brig _industry_, and this book is one of them."--_canadian congregationalist._ the alys series by una macdonald _each large mo, cloth decorative, illustrated, per volume_ $ . alys-all-alone "so real it touches the heart-strings."--_springfield union._ alys in happyland "one cannot read this book without feeling that its author intends that we may see and understand and feel more deeply, and, perhaps, more joyously."--_new york observer._ the boys' story of the army series by florence kimball russel =born to the blue= mo, cloth decorative, illustrated $ . "the story deserves warm commendation and genuine popularity."--_army and navy register._ =in west point gray= mo, cloth decorative, illustrated $ . "one of the best books that deals with west point."--_new york sun._ =from chevrons to shoulder-straps= "the life of a cadet at west point is portrayed very realistically."--_the hartford post, hartford, conn._ _by other authors_ =the princess and the clan= by margaret r. piper, author of "sylvia's experiment; the _cheerful_ book." trade mark mo, cloth decorative, illustrated by john goss $ . a delightful story of the doings of five boys--the clan--and one little girl--the princess. =the island of make-believe= by blanche e. wade. mo, cloth decorative, with eight plates in full color and many text illustrations by emma troth $ . "the story is one that cannot fail to highly entertain the children."--_denver tribune, denver, col._ =plantation stories of old louisiana= by andrews wilkinson. mo, cloth decorative, with twenty-two full page plates and many other illustrations by charles livingston bull _net_, $ . ; _carriage paid_, $ . "it is an excellent contribution to southern literature."--_new orleans times-picayune._ the little cousin series (trade mark) each volume illustrated with six or more full page plates in tint. cloth, mo, with decorative cover, per volume, cents list of titles by mary hazelton wade, mary f. nixon-roulet, blanche mcmanus, clara v. winlow, florence e. mendel and others =our little african cousin= =our little alaskan cousin= =our little arabian cousin= =our little argentine cousin= =our little armenian cousin= =our little australian cousin= =our little austrian cousin= =our little belgian cousin= =our little boer cousin= =our little bohemian cousin= =our little brazilian cousin= =our little bulgarian cousin= =our little canadian cousin= =our little chinese cousin= =our little cuban cousin= =our little danish cousin= =our little dutch cousin= =our little egyptian cousin= =our little english cousin= =our little eskimo cousin= =our little french cousin= =our little german cousin= =our little grecian cousin= =our little hawaiian cousin= =our little hindu cousin= =our little hungarian cousin= =our little indian cousin= =our little irish cousin= =our little italian cousin= =our little japanese cousin= =our little jewish cousin= =our little korean cousin= =our little malayan (brown) cousin= =our little mexican cousin= =our little norwegian cousin= =our little panama cousin= =our little persian cousin= =our little philippine cousin= =our little polish cousin= =our little porto rican cousin= =our little portuguese cousin= =our little russian cousin= =our little scotch cousin= =our little servian cousin= =our little siamese cousin= =our little spanish cousin= =our little swedish cousin= =our little swiss cousin= =our little turkish cousin= the little cousins of long ago series the publishers have concluded that a companion series to "the little cousin series," giving the every-day child life _of ancient times_ will meet with approval, and like the other series will be welcomed by the children as well as by their elders. the volumes of this new series are accurate both historically and in the description of every-day life of the time, as well as interesting to the child. each small mo, cloth decorative, illustrated c =our little roman cousin of long ago= by julia darrow cowles. =our little athenian cousin of long ago= by julia darrow cowles. =our little spartan cousin of long ago= by julia darrow cowles. _in preparation_ =our little macedonian cousin of long ago= =our little carthaginian cousin of long ago= =our little theban cousin of long ago= =our little viking cousin of long ago= =our little norman cousin of long ago= =our little saxon cousin of long ago= =our little florentine cousin of long ago= * * * * * transcriber's notes: punctuation errors repaired. page a- , subtitle of prisoners of fortune small-capped to match rest of typesetting. russian life to-day [illustration: _his imperial majesty the tsar._] russian life to-day by the right rev. herbert bury, d.d. _bishop for northern and central europe author of "a bishop among bananas"_ a. r. mowbray & co. ltd. london: margaret street, oxford circus, w. oxford: high street milwaukee, u.s.a.: the young churchman co. _to my fellow countrymen at work in siberia_ first impression, march, new impressions, april, july, december, introduction my first inclination, when the entirely unexpected proposal of the publishers came to me to write this book, was immediately to decline. there are so many well-known writers on russia, whose books are an unfailing pleasure and source of information, that it seemed to me to be nothing less than presumption to add to their number. but when i was assured that there seems to be a great desire just now for a book which, as the publishers expressed it, "should not attempt an elaborate sketch of the country, nor any detailed description of its system of government and administration, or any exhaustive study of the russian church, and yet should give the _impressions_ of a sympathetic observer of some of the chief aspects of russian life which are likely to appeal to an english churchman," i felt that i might venture to attempt it. it has been given to me to get to understand thoroughly from close and intimate knowledge the commercial development of siberia by our countrymen; and yet everywhere, both there and in russia proper, i have to go to every place specially and primarily to give the ministrations of religion. it can be permitted to few, if any, to see those two sides of the life of a great and growing empire at the same time. this has been my reason, therefore, for undertaking this small effort, and my object is to give, as the publishers expressed it, "personal impressions." i hope my readers will accept this book, therefore, as an impressionist description of russian life of to-day, of which it would have been quite impossible to keep personal experiences from forming an important part. and though i write as an english churchman, yet i wish to speak, and i trust in no narrow spirit, to the whole religious public, that i may draw them more closely into intelligent sympathy with this great nation which has seemed to come so suddenly, unexpectedly, and intimately into our own national life and destiny--and i believe as a friend. herbert bury, _bishop_. contents chap. page i. russia's great spaces ii. general social life iii. the peasantry iv. the clergy v. religious life and worship vi. his imperial majesty the tsar vii. a paternal government viii. the steppes ix. russia's problem x. the anglican church in russia xi. the jews xii. our countrymen in the empire index list of illustrations his imperial majesty the tsar _frontispiece_ russia's great spaces--winter _facing page_ russia's great spaces--summer " " the kremlin " " the gate of the redeemer, moscow " " a well-clad coachman " " a village scene " " the metropolitan of moscow " " the convent at ekaterinburg, siberia " " the abbess magdalena " " the russian priest at spassky " " s. isaac's cathedral, petrograd " " interior of a russian church " " the cathedral at riga " " her imperial majesty the tsaritsa " " his imperial highness the tsarevitch alexei " " her imperial highness the grand duchess elizabeth, the friend of the poor " " characteristic group of russians " " a group of russian peasants " " consecration of burial ground in the siberian steppes " " outside a kirghiz uerta " " tarantass with its troika for the steppes " " inside a kirghiz uerta " " russian service at the atbazar mine " " a class of russian students with teacher " " the english church of s. andrew, moscow " " the bishop and russian chauffeur " " the british community at atbazar, siberia " " the archbishop of warsaw " " a polish jew " " camels at work--summer " " camels at work--winter " " map _at end_ russian life to-day chapter i russia's great spaces i will begin my opening chapter by explaining how i come to have the joy and privilege of travelling far and wide, as i have done, in the great russian empire. i go there as assistant bishop to the bishop of london, holding a commission from him as bishop in charge of anglican work in north and central europe. it may seem strange that anglican work in that distant land should be directly connected with the diocese of london, but the connection between them, and between all the countries of northern and central europe, as far as our church of england work is concerned, is of long standing. it dates from the reign of charles i, and from an order in council which was passed in , and placed the congregations of the church of england in _all_ foreign countries at that time under the jurisdiction of the bishop of london "as their diocesan." it may be remembered that when the present bishop of london went to washington some years ago he took with him some interesting documents which he had found in the library at fulham palace, and which were connected with the time when church work in the united states looked to london for superintendence and episcopal leadership. these he handed over to the custody of the episcopal church of america, knowing how interested that church would be to possess them, and to keep them amongst other historical records. the same rapid progress as that which has attended the american church has been made in the colonies and other parts of the world. new dioceses and provinces have been formed one after another, and in the diocese of gibraltar was formed, taking in the congregations of the english church in spain, portugal, italy, and roumania, and all places bordering upon the mediterranean and the black sea. but the other countries of europe, to the north and in the centre, remain still, as far as church work goes, where that old order in council placed them, in the jurisdiction of the bishop of london. it is impossible, of course, that he should attempt to meet this responsibility himself and bear the burden of such a diocese as that of london, and so the rule has been, since , to issue a commission to another bishop, who, while being an assistant, yet has to feel himself fully responsible, and in this way spare the bishop of london as much as he possibly can. it will therefore be understood, as i have said in my few words of introduction, that, filling such a position and having such work to superintend, and also, for many reasons to be more fully explained in succeeding pages, finding the orthodox church of russia very friendly towards our own, i shall write throughout with those whom i have termed the "religious public" very clearly in my mind and sympathies. at the same time i am hoping to interest the general reader also, and therefore shall try my utmost to give a comprehensive view of russian life as it will be found to-day by travellers on the one hand if they give themselves time and opportunity enough, and by those, on the other, who have to go and live and work in russia. first impressions are usually interesting to recall. mine were immediate and extraordinarily vivid, and were all associated with thoughts--which have gradually become convictions--of russia's vast potentialities and future greatness. when first i had the honour and pleasure of an audience with the emperor of russia--i will speak of it at greater length in a later chapter--one of the first questions he asked me was:-- "and what has most impressed you, so far, on coming, as a new experience, into my country?" i was not prepared for the question, but answered at once and without the least hesitation--for there seemed to come into my mind even as his majesty spoke, the vivid impression i had received-- "russia's great spaces!" "ah, yes!" he said, evidently thinking very deeply; "that is true. russia's _great_ spaces--what a striking impression they must make, for the first time!" [illustration: _russia's great spaces--winter._] i went on to explain that one can see great spaces elsewhere. on the ocean when for days together no other vessel is seen; on some of the great plains in the other hemisphere; riding across the great hungarian tableland; and even in central france or in the landes to the west i have felt this sense of space and distance; but russia's great flat or gently undulating expanses have always seemed to me to suggest other spaces on beyond them still, and to give an impression of the vast and illimitable, such as i have never known elsewhere. it is under this impression of vast resources, no doubt, that so many military correspondents of our daily papers constantly speak of the russian forces as "inexhaustible." it is the same with other things also. they suggest such marvellous possibilities. this is the impression i would like to give at once in this my opening chapter--a sense of spaciousness--power to expand, to develop, to open out, to make progress, to advance and grow. it is not the impression the word "russia" usually makes upon people who know little about her inner life, and have received their ideas from those who have experienced the repressive and restrictive side of her policy and administration. but i can only give, and am glad of the opportunity, the results of my own experiences and observations; and those are embodied in my reply to the emperor. when i crossed the russian frontier for the first time it was with a very quaking and apprehensive spirit. all that lay beyond was full of the mysterious and unknown, so entirely different, one felt it must be, from all one's previous experiences of life! anything might happen, for this was russia! "russia" has stood so long with us in this country for the repressive and reactionary, for the grim and forbidding and restricting, that it will be difficult for many to part with those ideas, and i can hardly hope to remove impressions now deeply rooted. i can only say, however, that my own prejudices and preconceptions in the same direction disappeared, one after another, with astonishing rapidity in my first year; and now my spirits rise every time i cross the frontier of that great country, and my heart warms to that great people as soon as i see their kindly and friendly faces, their interesting and picturesque houses, and catch my first sight of their beautiful churches, with the fine cupolas above them with their hanging chains, painted and gilded domes, and delicate finials glittering in the sun and outlined against a sky of blue. russia to me presents at once a kindly, friendly atmosphere, and others feel it also; for i have, just before writing these words, laid down a copy of _the times_ in which mr. stephen graham--no one knows the heart and soul of russia quite as he does, i fancy--writing one of his illuminating articles on "russia's holy war," says "people in russia are naturally kind. they have become even gentler since the war began." those who enter russia expecting the unfriendly will find, i feel sure, as we have done, exactly the opposite--nothing but kindness and courtesy. it will be the same in other experiences also if i mistake not. one of the chief difficulties ordinary travellers or tourists expect to encounter, for instance, in russia is that of language. "isn't it extraordinarily difficult to acquire, and to make yourself understood?" is an invariable question, and certainly in long journeys across country, as from warsaw up to riga, and from libau on the baltic to moscow, and especially in my mining camp mission in siberia, i expected to have very great difficulties; but, as so often happens, they were difficulties in anticipation rather than in reality. even off the beaten track in russia any one who can travel comfortably in other european countries can travel equally satisfactorily there. most educated people speak french, and an ever-increasing number--for english governesses and nurses are in great request--speak english. great numbers of the working class speak german, the national language, of course, of russia's baltic provinces, on railway trains as conductors and in restaurants as waiters, and at railway stations as porters. indeed, if any one is in the dining-car of a train or in the buffet or dining-room of a railway station or other public place, and has the courage to stand up and say, "does any one here speak french?" or "does any one here speak german?" some one ready to help and be friendly will invariably come forward. in my first siberian mission, however, i found myself in a real difficulty. i had to drive across the kirghiz steppes from the railway at petropavlosk, about four days and nights east of moscow, to the spassky copper mine, and the management had sent down a very reliable kirghiz servant of theirs to be my interpreter; but i found that his only qualification for the work of interpreting was that, in addition to his own kirghiz tongue, he could speak russian! for the inside of a week, travelling day and night, we had to get on as best we could together, and arrange all the business of changing horses, getting food, and paying expenses, largely by signs. once only, and then in the dead of night when changing horses, did we encounter a german-speaking farmer from courland or lettland on the baltic, and a great joy it was to him to meet some one who knew those fair parts of the russian empire where agricultural work brings much more encouraging results for the toil bestowed upon it than siberia, with its terrible winter season. [illustration: _russia's great spaces--summer._] but though to acquire a knowledge of russian for literary purposes, so as to write and compose correctly, must be most difficult, owing to the number of letters in the alphabet--forty-six as compared with our twenty-six--and the entirely different way from our own in which they are written, i do not think it is difficult to acquire a fair knowledge of the language in a comparatively short time so as to make one's self understood and get along. i find young englishmen, going to work in russia and beyond the urals, very quickly come to understand what is being said, and to make known their own wishes and requirements; and in a couple of years, or sometimes less, they speak quite fluently. it always seems to me that the russians pronounce their words with more syllabic distinctness than either the french or germans. and that natural kindness and friendliness of the whole people, of which i have already written, makes them wish to be understood and to help those with whom they are speaking to grasp their meaning. this, of course, makes all the difference! when the question of the great difficulty of the language is raised another remark nearly always follows: "but then the russians are such great linguists that they easily understand!" and it is usually supposed that they "easily learn other languages because their own is so difficult," though they encounter no more difficulty, probably, than any one else when talking in their own tongue in infancy. they are "great linguists" for the same reason as the dutch--and that is because, if they wish to be in educated society or in business on any large scale, their own language will only go a very short way. in russia as in holland, as i have been told in both countries, an educated household will contain a german nurse and an english governess, while french will be the rule at table. it used to be a french governess, but now the english governess is in great request everywhere in russia and poland; and, in the great nobles' houses, there is the english tutor also--not always for the language, but to impart english ideas to the boys of the family. when i was last in warsaw, an oxford graduate came up at a reception and introduced himself, and told me he was with a polish prince who had astonished him on the first morning after his arrival by saying:-- "i have engaged you as a tutor for my two boys, but it will not be necessary for you to teach them anything--that is already provided for. i want you to be their companion, walk out with them, play games with them, and help them to grow up after the manner of english gentlemen." there is no real difficulty, therefore, with the language, nor is there with the money of the country as soon as one realizes the value of the rouble, eight of which make nearly a pound, and that it is divided into a hundred _kopecks_, pronounced _kopeeks_, two of which are equal to about a farthing. and now to speak of the actual travelling. everything in the way of communication in russia is on a large scale and in keeping with the answer i gave to the emperor, and which i have placed at the head of this chapter. as soon as one passes the frontier, for instance, the travellers change into carriages adapted for a broad-gauge railway, and are at once in more commodious quarters. there is no land, i suppose, where travelling over great distances is so comfortable as in russia for all classes; and it is incredibly cheap, first-class tickets costing less than third in our own country, for those using the ordinary post train, which every year becomes more comfortable and nearer to the standard of the wagon-lit. there are excellent lavatories, kept perfectly clean, where one can wash, shave, and almost have a sponge bath, for--though without the luxuries of the trans-siberian express--there is more room. there is usually a restaurant-car on the long-distance trains--and practically all the trains in russia are for long distances--and, if not, there is plenty of time to get food at the stations on the way. conductors will take every care and trouble to get what is necessary, and first and second-class compartments are never overcrowded, as far as my experience goes. i believe, indeed, that not more than four people may be put into a compartment for the night, and, as the cushioned back of the seats can be lifted up, all the four travellers can be sure of being able to lie down. the first-class compartments on a post train are divided into two by folding-doors, and one is allowed to buy a _platzcarte_ and so have the whole compartment to one's self. every accommodation too is provided for lying down comfortably in the third-class, and the travellers there are always the happiest-looking on the train. another consideration shown to the public is that the scale of charges falls in proportion to the distance to be traversed. the stations are specially spacious, particularly along the routes beyond moscow, where emigration continually goes on into the great pastoral lands of siberia. in the summer months the traffic is very great, and it is one of the most touching and appealing experiences i can recall to pass through one of the great waiting-halls of such a station as samara, at night, and pick one's way amongst the sleeping families of peasants waiting to get their connection with another line, and resting in the meantime. their little possessions are all about them, and father and mother and sons and daughters lie gathered close up together, pillowing their heads upon each other, good-looking, prettily dressed, and fast asleep--as attractive a picture as any one could wish to see. there is a great freedom of movement everywhere in russia, and i do not remember having seen the word _verboten_ (the german for "forbidden"), or its equivalent, in any part of a russian or siberian station. the rule of having three bells to announce approaching departure is a most excellent one, whether the pause is long or short, the first ringing very audibly about five minutes, the second one minute, and the third immediately before departure. if travelling long distances, the ten-minutes' stop at all large towns gives plenty of opportunity for exercise and fresh air, and the absolute certainty of hearing the bells gives a perfect sense of security that no one will be left behind. if the bell rings twice just as the train enters the station, every one knows that the stay will be short, and that it is not worth while getting out. some of the most resting and refreshing experiences i have ever had have been those of travelling day after day for some two or three thousand miles in russia, getting one's correspondence straight, for writing is quite easy in those steady and slow-moving express trains, reading up reviews and periodicals or making plans for future journeys, looking out of the windows in the early morning or late evening, all varied by meals in the _coupé_ or at a station, seeing all kinds of interesting people in strange costumes, and many attractive incidents at places where one alights for a walk and exercise. more interesting than the railways, however, are the rivers. how large these are, and how important a part they have filled in the past, before the days of railways, and still play in the commerce and life of the people, will be seen at once by a glance at the map at the end of the book. none of them, however, though one gets a real affection for the neva after sledging over it in the winter and sailing upon it in the summer, attracts and indeed fascinates, as the volga never fails to do. it is magnificent in size, and is the largest in europe, , miles in length, three times as long as the rhine. many of us know what the rhine is to the germans. treitschke, as we have been reminded in one of the most widely read of modern books, when leaving bonn, wrote to a friend, "to-morrow i shall see the rhine for the last time. the memory of that noble river will keep my heart pure, and save me from sad and evil thoughts throughout all the days of my life." i have always understood the strong appeal to the historic, and even the poetic, sense which the rhine puts forth, but i never understood the sense of the ideal which a river might convey until i saw, approached, and crossed the volga. it was a may evening, three years ago, as we drew near and then passed along its right bank before crossing. it was of the loveliest colour of rich and living brown, like that of a healthy human skin, carrying life and burdens of every description upon its ample bosom, fostering all kinds of enterprise and activity on its shores, and flowing on with stately dignity, as if it would not be hurried from its calm consciousness of its own strength and significance for those nine provinces through which it passes on its way to the caspian. i felt its spell at once, and, as i crossed the great bridge over which the trans-siberian line is carried--an exquisite piece of engineering a mile and a quarter in length--i knew that i should always feel a curious sense of personality in connection with that glorious river. i think merriman, in one of his novels, speaks of associating a sense of consciousness with the volga; and that is just what i have felt each time of crossing over its bounteous-looking, calm, and steady flow. it seems to live and know. the third and last "difficulty" which i will speak of in this opening chapter, and which is no difficulty at all, is the passport. every one in russia must possess one; and, if travelling and intending to spend one or two nights in a place, it must be sent to the proper official and be duly stamped. it must be _visèd_ by the russian ambassador, or minister, at the place from which one starts before entering russia; and, which is even more important, it must be _visèd_ by the right official at some important town or place of government, and stamped with the necessary permission, before one is able to _leave_ russia. it is natural to feel at the frontier, when entering the country, "i hope it is all right," as the passport is handed to the customs officer, and, with just a little approach to anxious uncertainty, after all one has heard and read; but it is almost impossible to avoid real anxiety that it will be found correct and in order as it is presented at the frontier when _leaving_, as the difficulties of being kept back there, so far away from the great cities, would be far greater than those of being refused _admission_ from some technicality that could probably be put right by a telegram to and from england. "but surely the passport must prevent you from feeling that sense of freedom that you have spoken of more than once--surely _that_ must give a sense of repression and suspicion and being watched and having an eye kept on your doings," my reader will be thinking, and perhaps many other people have the same feeling. it is, however, exactly the opposite with me, for my passport in russia and siberia is a great stand-by, and gives me a great sense of being always able to establish my own identity. there can be little doubt that the passport was established from the first in the interests of the community, for it is entirely in their own interests that people should possess them. no one who is honest in purpose can have any difficulty in procuring one or be brought to any trouble through it. the necessity of frequently producing them, in moving from place to place, is always in the interests of the traveller in a vast empire like russia. it has given me a great feeling of confidence in launching out, as has been necessary now and then, into the unknown, to feel "they will be able to trace me all along by the entries made in official registers, as the passport has been stamped." if any one disappeared in russia the police would be able to trace his movements to very near the place of disappearance. it is a great help in getting letters also to have a passport, for we are just as anxious as the officials can be that our letters should not go to the wrong people; and in travelling in out-of-the-way places it is simply invaluable in getting the help, advice, and recognition that sometimes are so very necessary. even the passport, therefore, helps to deepen the sense of security and freedom with which one launches out into russian travel, anxious to gain all that it has to give in information and stimulating experience. it will be remembered, however, that i speak always not as a resident, but as a traveller; and there is just this difference--_indeed, it is a vast difference_--between my own opportunities and those of an ordinary traveller. travelling as the bishop for the english church work in russia, in every place our clergy and residents have only been too happy to speak of their own experiences and impressions, some of them lifelong and all-important. when travelling in siberia, and the guest from time to time of managers of the great mines, i go out with them day after day and get long conversations with them, their wives, and members of the staff. i hear all about early struggles, hopes and fears, difficulties and triumphs extending over many years. the conditions of life and characteristics of the people in vast tracts of country are described to me by those who know them well. no one but a bishop travelling through the country would have the same information so freely volunteered to him. and it is this which has led me to feel that i might, without undue presumption, write for ordinary readers about the life of a country in which i have not, as yet, spent a great many years. it _is_ a great country, as all we who know it feel, and "it doth not yet appear what it shall be." if some of us are right in thinking of the russians as a great race with a vast country of tremendous resources; who can in any way picture the great and wonderful possibilities of their future? it will be my task to try and show how little opportunity they have had as yet of getting their share of modern civilization, how imperfectly, as yet, the ethical side of their religion has been imparted to them; and still, in spite of all this and of other defects of their social and religious life, how much they have accomplished in the way of real achievement. i fail to see how any one can help feeling the greatest interest--hopeful and expectant--about their future, or feel anything else but the great thankfulness that i feel myself, that we and they as peoples have been brought so intimately together by circumstances which few could have foreseen only a very few years ago, but which have come about not only, as some would say, in the course of providence, but in a very true sense, as i trust our and their national histories shall show in time to come, "according to the good hand of our god upon us." [illustration: _the kremlin._] chapter ii general social life the whole life of the russian people reminds those who visit them continually and in every possible way that they are in a religious country; for everywhere there is the _ikon_, or sacred religious picture. there are other ways, especially the columns of the newspapers full of notices of private and public ministrations and pathetic requests for prayers for the departed, of bringing religion continually before the public mind, but the _ikon_ is most in evidence. it is a picture in one sense, for it is a representation either of our lord or of the holy virgin or of some well-known saint; but the garments are in relief, often composed of one of the precious metals and ornamented in some cases with jewels; and thus it is quite different from other sacred pictures. it is the first characteristic evidence of "russia" to meet one's eyes on entering, and the last to be seen as one leaves, any public place. "a great picture of the virgin and child hangs in the custom-house at wirballen," writes mr. rothay reynolds at the beginning of _my russian year_, "with a little lamp flickering before it." "the foreigner, who was a few minutes before on the german side of the frontier and stands on russian soil for the first time, looks at the shrine with curiosity. porters are hurrying in with luggage, and travellers are chattering in half a dozen languages. an official at a desk in the middle of the great hall is examining passports. a man is protesting that he did not know that playing-cards were contraband; a woman is radiant, for the dirty lining she has sewn in a new paris hat has deceived the inquisitors. everybody is in a hurry to be through with the business, and free to lunch in the adjoining restaurant before going on to st. petersburg. it is a strange home for the majestic virgin of the byzantine picture. "here, at the threshold of the empire, russia placards--s. paul's vivid greek gives me the word--her faith before the eyes of all comers. in the bustle of a custom-house, charged with fretfulness and impatience and meanness, russia sets forth her belief in a life beyond the grave and her conviction that the ideals presented by the picture are the noblest known to mankind." nowhere as in russia is one reminded so constantly, in what we should consider most unlikely places, that we are in a christian country. in the streets and at railway stations, in baths, hotels, post offices, shops, and warehouses, in the different rooms of factories and workshops, in private houses, rich and poor alike, in government houses, and even in places of evil resort which i will not specify, as well as in prisons, indeed in _every_ public place there is the _ikon_--most frequently representing the holy mother and child--and its lamp burning before it. in later chapters i will write more at length upon religion and worship, but i must give the reader _at once_, if a stranger to russia, something of the impression which the ubiquity of the _ikon_ makes upon those who go there for the first time. it is _always_ to be seen. and though i will try and describe what it directly represents in the shape of church life later, yet from the very first i must write, as it were, with the _ikon_ before me. i must see with my mind's eye the holy mother clasping the divine child to her bosom, with a few flowers and a twinkling little light before them, all the time i write, whether it is of things secular or sacred, grave or gay, national or international, or i shall give out but little of the spirit which i feel i have breathed deeply into my life in that wonderful country, and certainly shall not be able to help any reader who has not been there as yet to understand why it should be spoken of as "holy russia." that which the _ikon_ stands for, therefore, must be the spirit of every chapter i write, or i shall give my readers no true picture of russian life. fortunately for those who want further particulars than such a book as this can give them--and it will fail in its purpose if it does not make many readers _wish_ to have them--there has been a very excellent _baedeker's guide to russia_ published last year, which is a wonderfully complete work considering the vast empire with which it has to deal. i will therefore attempt nothing at all in the way of statistics or descriptions such as a guide-book gives, or such as will be found in the excellent books to which i shall often refer. if i can take my readers with me in thought as i travel about russia and siberia, and can give them some of the information which has been given so freely to me, and can convey to them some portion of the impressions made upon me when far away from the beaten track, and above all can lead them to give their sympathies freely and generously to the people of the land and to our own countrymen so hospitably welcomed amongst them, and so generously treated, i shall be more than repaid for my work, and shall ask nothing better. in russia there are two forms of government, clearly and strenuously at work, and wide asunder in their character, the autocratic and the democratic. it is impossible to do much more than mention these two tremendous forces, which are so strongly forming the character, and determining the destinies for a long time to come, of a great people. since the russian empire has had constitutional government under the form of an imperial council or first chamber, the imperial duma or second chamber, with the emperor, advised by a small council of ministers, still an autocratic sovereign. the emperor can overrule any legislation, and probably would if advised by a unanimous council; but it must be evident to most people if they think a little, that even now he would be very reluctant to do this except in some very grave crisis of the national life, and that in time to come he will never dream of such interference. constitutional government in russia has really begun, and when one considers the past it is clear that great progress has been made in the direction of constitutional freedom since it was granted in . the reconstitution of the polish nation, the stirring amongst the finns, the rising hopes of the jews, the national aspirations of mongolia more and more fully expressed, the general "moving upon the face of the waters" of the spirit which makes a free people, cannot but rivet the attention of those interested in social and national life upon russia at this time, when the autocratic government of long standing is passing, so simply and so naturally, it would seem, into the constitutional. since the emancipation of the serfs there has been a steady growth of the democratic, almost communal, spirit in all the peasant villages of russia, and though their powers have been somewhat curtailed since they are self-governing and very responsible communities. some of the best and most interesting russian stories, therefore, deal with incidents and experiences in village life; and it is the great fact that sir donald mackenzie wallace, whose book upon russia is one of the most complete character, went and shut himself out from the rest of the world at the little village of ivanofka, in the province of novgorod, and there drank in the spirit of the language and of the national life, that makes his compendious work a real classic for those who want truly to understand russian life and nationality. there are two distinct social and constitutional forces at work, therefore, and not working slowly and deliberately, as so often in the past, but with great rapidity--the autocratic seeking to realize its responsibilities and to fulfil them, and the democratic feeling that its ideals are coming nearer to being realized every day. there is consequently no country so absorbingly interesting to the constitutionalist at this time as russia. nothing can be more stimulating, to those who want to read the signs of the times, than to know that revolutionaries, such as m. bourtzeff,[ ] who had left their country in despair to plan and plot, have now returned, without troubling whether they would be pardoned or punished, full of expectant hope for their country's constitutional future. perhaps cautious people will hope that progress may be slow, but the great thing is to be able to say, "it moves." every city and great town in russia has something specially characteristic about it, and of course they are, as yet, very few in number. catherine the great, as is well known, thought cities and towns could be created, though she found out her mistake, and russia still remains a land of villages rather than of towns, but the great towns which do exist have usually very distinctive features. petrograd, for instance, though, as peter intended it should be, essentially modern, has its very special features in its domed churches and the magnificence of its wide river with the great palaces upon its banks and bordering upon its quays. the fortress of s. peter and s. paul, on the opposite side, "home of political prisoners and dead tsars," when the sun is setting, is never to be forgotten, and enters at once upon the field of vision as one thinks of peter's capital. then moscow! how well i remember bishop creighton's enthusiasm whenever he spoke of moscow. though his face might be calm and its expression grave before, only let moscow be mentioned and it would light up at once, as with sparkling eyes he would exclaim:-- "moscow!--oh, you must see moscow: nothing in the world is like it. you _must_ see it." but it is really the kremlin which makes moscow unique, with an intangible influence and sense of association connected with it that no one can describe, as one thinks of its historic past and of napoleon! the kremlin! i had read and heard descriptions of it from time to time, but was in no way prepared for that vast area of palaces, churches, treasuries, great houses, and barracks, enclosed by glorious walls and towers and entered by impressive gateways, over which one gazed with wondering eyes when seen first under the blue sky and brilliant winter sun. [illustration: _the gate of the redeemer, moscow._] it is no use attempting to describe it; but moscow is the kremlin, and to _feel_ the kremlin is to _know_ moscow. upon entering the spassky gate, or gate of the redeemer, every hat has to be removed in honour of the _ikon_ of the saviour which is placed above it. the picture was placed there, by the tsar alexis, in , to be regarded as the "palladium of the kremlin," and the order was given then that hats should be removed when passing through. the law is rigorously enforced still, and though it is sometimes a trial--i had frostbite in consequence when i last went through a year ago--yet the act is almost an instinctive one when entering or leaving the kremlin. warsaw, again--for no one in this generation can dissociate it from russia and call it polish only--with its glorious position on the vistula in the midst of its great plain, though not so ancient and inspiring as cracow, in galicia, is full of moving appeal to the national and historic sense for those who visit it for the first time, and especially, as in my own case, when entering the empire by that route. i have seen warsaw in spring, summer, and winter, and always felt its charm; and i have not felt more deeply moved for a long time than by the emperor's proclamation that he intended the poles once more to be a nation and--there can be but little doubt about it--with warsaw as its capital. riga also, the great shipping-port on the baltic, which i have entered by sea and by land, and when coming in by sea have had the pleasure of seeing our beautiful english church on the shore with its graceful spire standing out conspicuously, yet blending in with other towers and pinnacles. how very characteristic of the baltic and attractive the city is, with its blending of the teuton and slav populations! but how essentially russian it is in all its leading features, while different from all other russian cities! it is so wherever one goes both on this and on the other side of the urals. there always seems to be something specially characteristic in these great centres of population; and they all seem as if, unlike other towns, they had each their own interesting story to tell for those who have ears to hear. town or city life in russia is not very representative of the true life of the country and its people, though it undoubtedly exerts a widespread influence upon their general social life; for russia's vast population is not gathered together in either towns or cities, but in hamlets and villages. sir donald mackenzie wallace tells us that when he wrote his first book on russia, in , there were only eleven towns with a population of over , in european russia, and that, in , they had only increased to thirty-four. the increase of the future will no doubt be more rapid when the war is over. the great cities will probably, as practically all the cities of europe have done of late years, follow the lead of paris under baron hausmann in the character of their imposing blocks of houses and wide boulevards, and one capital will be much the same as any other in europe in its general appearance and social life. russian cities, however, even the capital, though ever becoming more cosmopolitan, still possess their many distinctive and interesting features, costumes, and customs, and are most picturesque and interesting, of course, during the long winter. it gives one a shock almost to go for the first time to warsaw or petrograd--at moscow there is always the kremlin--in the middle of the summer. there is little to distinguish them then, apart from the ever-glorious beauty of the churches, from buda-pest or vienna. but in the winter! then it is everywhere still characteristic russia. the sledges, for instance, with their _troikas_! they are the same carriages or _droschkes_ as in summer, but with runners instead of wheels. horses are harnessed in the same way in both seasons, and even the coachmen seem to wear exactly the same dress all the year round, edged with fur like their caps, though the padding inside the coat _must_ be less in summer, one would think. the sledges of nobles and other wealthy people, used in the winter only, are painted and decorated most attractively. to drive out on a winter night, under a sky brilliant with stars, the air extraordinarily keen, bracing, and stimulating, the bells tinkling from the high and graceful yoke which rises from the central horse of the three, wrapped in furs, and with no sounds but the bells and the crack of whips and the subdued crunching of the snow, is to taste one of the joys of life, and feel to the full, with happiness in the feeling, "this is russia!" [illustration: _a well-clad coachman._] the coachmen pad up their robes of blue to an enormous extent, so that they seem to bulge out over their seat. it is said to be a custom dating from catherine's days and from her requirements that there should be at least twelve inches of good stuff between her coachman's skin and her nose! but the present reason for the custom, which prevails, as far as i know, in no other country, is that there is an objection to a thin coachman. when i was speaking of the absurdity of these grotesque padded-out figures to a lady whom i had taken into dinner one night in moscow, she at once said:-- "well, i must say i like my coachman to look comfortable and well fed, i should hate a thin one." dickens's fat boy in pickwick must commend himself to russia, for they love dickens and read him in translation and the original all through the empire, as just what a driver ought to be. i should think coachmen in russia, however, _ought_ to be fat without any padding-up, for they are all merry and good-tempered, their blue eyes and pleasant faces under their furry caps giving the impression of perfect health. they sit on their boxes all day without any violent exercise, and probably have good and abundant food, and above all they sleep. however long you keep your coachman, even in the depth of winter, he does not mind, for he invariably seems to go to sleep while waiting, and to have an absolutely unlimited capacity for gentle and peaceful slumber. i am not at all sure whether my driver on the steppes has not usually been asleep even when we have been going at full speed, the centre horse trotting swiftly, the other two, according to custom, at the gallop. the _dvornik_ is another institution in town life. he is an indoor servant in great houses, usually about the front hall, to open the door for those who go out, ready for all sorts of odd things; or he may be a head out-of-doors servant; or he may give general help for three or four or more smaller establishments; but he has to be there, and cannot be dismissed, for he is _ex officio_ a member of the police and has to make his report from time to time. it must give a little sense of espionage, but still, as with the passport, it is only the evil-minded or evil-living who need to be afraid of the _dvornik's_ report, and it must be remembered also that the russian government has long had cause to dread the revolutionary spirit, and has had to fight for its very life against it. this is the darker side of life in russia; and as far as my experience goes it is the only dark side, for it must be evident that a designing _dvornik_ may do untold harm, and specially--as i have known to be the case--in official and diplomatic establishments. the custom opens out possibilities of blackmail also, and one can only hope that it will pass away in what so many of us feel are to be for russia the better days to come. russians are very hospitable, not only lavish in its exercise where ample means allow, but naturally and by custom thoroughly and truly ready, even in the homes of the very poor, to welcome the coming guest. this is brought out in every book one reads of russia, but by no one more touchingly than by mr. stephen graham in his _tramp's sketches_, when he journeyed constantly amongst the very poor and found them always ready to "share their crusts." sir donald mackenzie wallace says the same about the wealthier classes: "of all the foreign countries in which i have travelled russia certainly bears off the palm in the matter of hospitality." an interesting feature of a russian meal, luncheon, or dinner, is its preliminary, the _zakouska_. it probably dates from the time when guests came from long distances, as they do still in the country, and would be hungry upon their arrival, and yet would have to wait until all the guests had come. it would be, and indeed in some houses to which i have been is still, understood, that if you were asked for a certain time the dinner would follow in the course of an hour or two; and so the "snack" was provided, and laid out upon the sideboard. the great dinners or banquets in london are " for - ," to give time for guests to assemble. the _zakouska_, however, remains the custom still at every meal, and consists of caviare sandwiches, _pâté de foie gras_, and various kinds of deliciously cured fish. strangers to the country, not understanding this particular custom, for it is provided in the drawing-room, ante-room, or in the dining-room itself, sometimes enjoy it so much and partake so freely, that they feel unequal to the meal which follows, and then have the pain of seeing their host and hostess quite mortified and hurt by their not doing full justice to the good things provided. i remember being entertained at supper in libau by the good consul and his family, at the st. petersburg hotel, when the _zakouska_ provided was so abundant and attractive that we all decided that we could not go beyond it to anything more substantial. another special and characteristic feature of russian life, and one which it seems impossible to transplant to another country, for many of my friends have tried it, is the _samovar_ or large urn with a central flue for burning or smouldering charcoal. the _samovar_ is always near at hand, and ready to be brought in at short notice to furnish what one can only call the national beverage of tea. the steaming urn is a very cheerful object in the room, and when tea is made and guests are served, the teapot is placed on the top of the central flue and everything is kept bubbling hot. on the steppes i used to boil my eggs in the space between the flue and the outside cover, though this was not held to be good for the tea. tea is provided and enjoyed everywhere in russia, drunk very hot, rather weak and almost always with sugar, though _not_ with lemon except in great houses and hotels. "slices of lemon," to my amazement i was told, as i travelled off the track of railways and sometimes on, "are an english custom!" tea is always taken in tumblers set in a little metal frame with a handle. on the trains for the poorest passengers there is often hot water, and always at stations on the way; and emigrants, as they travel, may be said to do so teapot in hand. it is china tea and light in colour, and, as the custom amongst the poorer classes is to put only a moderate quantity of tea into the _tchinak_ or teapot, to begin with, and to fill up with hot water as they go on drinking for an indefinite time, it must be very weak indeed at the end. not even at the start is it strong, or what some public schoolboys call "beefy." at the end it can hardly have even a flavour of tea about it, though they go on drinking it quite contentedly. across the urals and amongst the kirghiz i found the custom was not to put sugar in the tea but in the mouth, and drink the tea through it, and just above the persian frontier jam was taken in the same way, to flavour and sweeten the tea in the act of drinking. russian houses, in the great cities, are much the same as in other capitals, though perhaps rather more spacious and richly furnished. the rooms for entertainment and daily use open out of each other, of course, and the beautiful stoves of porcelain have not, as yet, given way to central heating. double windows in all the rooms are the rule all through the long winter, with a small pane let in for ventilation; and thus a cosy and comfortable sense of warmth is experienced everywhere whilst indoors, which renders it, strange as it may seem, unnecessary to wear, as in our own country, warm winter under-garments. comfortably warm by night or day, without extra clothing or extra blankets whilst indoors, and wrapped in thick warm furs when out of doors, the winter is not as trying in russia as in more temperate countries. one takes a cold bath, indeed, in that country with more enjoyment than anywhere else, for, though the water gives an almost electric shock with its icy sting, yet, as soon as one steps out into the warm air of the bath-room and takes up the warm towels, the immediate reaction brings at once a glow of pure enjoyment. there is every comfort in a russian house, especially in the winter. the country house, or _datcha_, is a necessity for those who have to live in russia all the year round, as the cities and great towns are very hot and dusty, and often full of mosquitoes in the two or three months of summer, which is quite tropical in its character. thus there are the two extremes, an arctic winter and a tropical summer. the country houses are entirely summer residences, with great verandahs and balconies and other facilities for life in the open, and are often placed amongst pine-woods or by the sea. some of my friends use their _datchas_ in winter also; and it is interesting to see how balconies and verandahs which in summer are filled with carpets, furniture, and plants, and are quite open on every side to meet the needs of the family and its guests all through the day in the open air, in winter are closed in by double windows fitted in on every side, and thus are made into additional and altogether different rooms. the homes of the russian nobility are very richly and artistically appointed in every particular. i stayed with friends a couple of years ago who had taken such an establishment for the summer; and furniture, pictures, china, arrangements and decorations of rooms all gave striking testimony to the wealth and cultivated tastes of the absent family. even beyond the urals, at the kyshtim mine, when first i visited it and was the guest of the managing director, i was amazed at the sumptuous character of his abode built by the former owners of the mine. it is a vast building approached by a great courtyard and in the greek style of architecture, with towers in different places giving it a fortress-like appearance in the distance. the rooms are extraordinarily large and numerous, and here and there are bits of venetian furniture, old paintings, and rich carpets. on going straight through the great salon, which one enters from the outer door and into the open air on the other side, one is again under a great portico with greek pillars, capitals, and frieze, looking out over a large sheet of water towards hills and forests. i could not help saying to myself in amazement the first time i went there, "and this is siberia!" i am not at all sure that social life upon european lines will not develop more rapidly in siberia than in european russia. even now i do not know any railway station in russia proper that can compare with that of ekaterinburg, just where siberia really begins, in all its arrangements for the travelling public and especially in the equipment of its restaurant and dining-rooms, where every comfort in the way of good food and good service is provided for the traveller, and french and german are freely spoken. it is impossible to write on the general social life without mentioning, though one cannot do more, certain recent events which must have a tremendous influence upon russia's future, socially as well as nationally. there is, for instance, the emperor's proclamation against the _vodka_ monopoly hitherto enjoyed by the government, which prohibits state _vodka_ selling for ever. the effect upon the public life of the great cities has been astonishing already. no one could have believed that the "stroke of a pen," so to speak, could have wrought such a change in the habits of a people. it remains to be seen, of course, how long the change will last; but, though acts of parliament cannot make people sober, it is a grand step in the right direction to decide that they shall not make them drunk, as the encouragement given by the state to the sale of _vodka_ must certainly have done. could any other modern government have made a sacrifice such as russia has made in giving up the expectation of nearly £ , , of revenue for the social well-being of her people? truly she deals with "large spaces!" moreover, the _vodka_ proclamation comes in the natural course of things, and can have been but very little hurried by the war; for things were already moving in that direction. last year but one-- --a scheme of "local option" was introduced into the empire; and, in every commune within its boundaries, i am assured, men and women alike having the vote for the purpose, the inhabitants were allowed to decide for themselves whether they would allow _vodka_ to be sold in their villages and towns. it was recognized that if the men enjoyed getting drunk the wives and mothers were the sufferers, and so they were allowed to vote. the whole country, therefore, before the war broke out, was prepared to face a great issue. and the general war cry, "we've a greater foe to fight than the germans!" shows how they faced it, and gives them that ideal which should enable them to go far. they are out for a holy war, and far-reaching influences are clearly at work which will profoundly and permanently affect the whole social conditions and well-being of the people. then there is the proclamation concerning the resuscitation of poland. this also does not come at all as an overwhelming surprise to many of us, as it has been fairly well known that the emperor, and some at least of his principal advisers, have for some time had ever-increasing constitutional, even democratic, sympathies. it has been more and more felt of late that what is called russification, as practised towards the finns, would go no further; and indeed, as far as they were concerned, would be reversed. no thoughtful person who has marked the trend of events since could doubt the direction in which higher and responsible russian thought was moving. but who can possibly foresee the far-reaching effect of raising up a great polish nation once more and recognizing the roman catholic church as the church of that part of the empire, with russians and poles, orthodox and roman catholic living together in amity and international unity? "i have just been staying," writes mr. stephen graham in the _times_ for october , , "in the fine old city of wilna, a city of courtly poles, the home of many of the old noble families of poland. it is now thronged with russian officers and soldiers. along the main street is an incessant procession of troops, and as you look down you see vistas of bayonet-spikes waving like reeds in a wind. as you lie in bed at night you listen to the tramp, tramp, tramp of soldiers. or you look out of the window and see wagons and guns passing for twenty minutes on end, or you see prancing over the cobbles and the mud the cossacks of the don, of the volga, of seven rivers. in the days of the revolutionary outburst the poles bit their lips in hate at the sight of the russian soldiers, they cursed under their breath, darted out with revolvers, shot, and aimed bombs. to-day they smile, tears run down their cheeks; they even cheer. whoever would have thought to see the day when the poles would cheer the russian troops marching through the streets of their own cities? the russians are forgiven!" no one who has known russia and poland before the war could read this description without deep emotion. "a very touching spectacle," he continues, "may be seen every day just now at the sacred gate of wilna. above the gateway is a chapel with wide-open doors showing a richly-gilded and flower-decked image of the virgin. at one side stands a row of leaden organ-pipes, at the other stands a priest. music is wafted through the air with incense and the sound of prayers. down below in the narrow, muddy roadway kneel many poor men and women with prayer-books in their hands. they are poles. but through the gateway come incessantly, all day and all night, russian troops going to the front. and every soldier or officer as he comes lifts his hat and passes through the praying throng uncovered. this is beautiful. let russia always be so in the presence of the mother of poland." it is impossible to read of that scene also, and recall at the same time past relations of the two churches here mentioned, without dreaming dreams and seeing visions of social unity such as has never yet been known, both for russia and all other countries to which she has so nobly and unselfishly given a social lead and invitation to follow on. note from p. , "m. bourtzeff."--there was a notice in the _times_ of february th last as follows: "a reuter telegram from petrograd of yesterday's date states that m. bourtzeff has been sentenced to deportation to siberia." i have never been able, however, to obtain any confirmation of this from russian officials in this country, nor do the russian embassy know anything about it. i hope it will prove that a sentence was passed _pro forma_, and that the emperor, as in miss malecska's case, at once remitted the sentence, or that m. bourtzeff was merely requested to live in siberia for the present rather than in russia, and i personally should think that no great hardship. i feel that we must await further particulars before being able to form correct impressions of this important case. footnotes: [ ] see end of this chapter, p. . chapter iii the peasantry it would be much more satisfactory to one's self to try and write a _book_ about the peasantry of russia, rather than attempt to say all that one wants to say in a single chapter, for there could hardly be any more interesting and promising people in the world than the peasant folk of russia. the future of the empire depends upon the development and improvement of its agricultural population, as they form three-fourths, according to the last census of three years ago, of its grand total of over , , souls. russia thus leads in the white races in the matter of population, and possesses that splendid asset, which goldsmith feels to be vital to a nation's advance and with which nothing else can compare when lost:-- "princes and lords may flourish, or may fade; a breath can make them as a breath has made; but a bold peasantry, their country's pride, when once destroyed can never be supplied." it is upon coming to write even briefly and in an impressionist kind of way upon a class which forms the huge majority of russia's population that the vastness of her empire and the different conditions under which her people live begin to be in some small degree apparent. it is no wonder that thoroughly well-informed and experienced writers, who have lived long and travelled far in the country and who are evidently quite to be trusted, should yet write so differently. [illustration: _a village scene._] one will write as if the russian peasant was only a degree better in his intelligence than the animals which share his filthy hovel, and no less brutish in temperament and nature. fearsome pictures are drawn in some books i have read of the almost impossible conditions and indescribable filth in which men, women, and children, fowls, pigs, horses, cattle, and dogs herd together in a stifling atmosphere and sickening stench, where to enter is out of the question unless one is to be covered with vermin and contract some illness. all this may be true to the writer's own experiences, and he can only write and describe things as he has found them; but i too will do the same. it is worth while to remember from the first that the lives of the peasant population of russia must be as different in summer and winter as tropical heat is from arctic cold. in the winter all _must_ crowd in together when the household is poor if life has to be preserved and defended against that appalling cold, when the one condition of the survival is warmth, or even heat. all outdoor occupation ceases, of course, with the one exception, it may be, of cutting, stacking, and carting wood. a peasant population, with a not very advanced civilization as yet, and little education--only twenty per cent. of the whole population can read and write--must, like the animal world, hibernate, come as it were to a standstill, rest physically and mentally, and prepare for the unremitting activities of the summer. i remember once when staying in an inn at the top of an alpine pass being impressed with the extraordinary energy and vivacity of the head waitress. she was simply untiring, always in good spirits, always at hand when wanted, unfailing in her attentions; however late a guest was up she was moving cheerfully about, however early one was down she was down before him helping to get things ready. when i was leaving i said to her, "i've been wondering when you get your rest?" she smiled brightly, and said cheerfully, "in the winter, sir." that's when the russian peasant gets his rest also, and with the spring he begins his energetic life of farming and agriculture, of carting and labour. the long days are busy and all too short, the brief nights are hardly more than an interval. the whole land is full of movement, the air is full of song and music, the holidays marked by game and dance. nothing could be more unlike the bitter cold and gloom of russia's long and terrible winter than the glow, brilliance, joy, and never-ceasing activities of her amazingly rich and life-giving summer. her peasantry must present the same contrasts in homes and seeming temperaments, and two writers may therefore be widely asunder in their descriptions, and yet both write truthfully of the things they have seen and known at different times of the year. to me the russian peasant is, as to others who have known him at his best, an amiable, attractive, intelligent, thoroughly good-natured and altogether lovable creature. it is quite true that he can do, has done, and may again do some perfectly appalling things, but it has been when thoroughly worked up, as one of a crowd, and when every one else has lost his head. terrible things which were not allowed to be known in europe outside their frontiers, and now will probably never be known, were done during the revolution of seven years ago. but the russian peasants are like children, as yet, and any one who knows and loves children knows perfectly well also what they are capable of, if they have any spirit in them, when thoroughly worked up, and when they too have for the time being lost their head and feel capable of almost anything that will hurt and pain and annoy. the peasants are in this, as in many other things, like children. as soon as the statistics of the russian peasantry come to be examined a startling fact comes to light. more than half their number-- out of every , --die before they are five years old. this means, as in the more inclement parts of our own country, that those who survive are a hardy race, strong and virile. the mortality is greatest amongst male children--over out of every , --and those, therefore, who do live are strong enough for anything and of amazing vitality, as we have seen in the present war. not only are they vigorous and strong in physique, however, but there is nothing lacking in their intelligence, or russia would not have the charm and fascination she possesses. probably no country in the world, unless it be still agricultural france, can compare with russia in the character of its peasant industries or their importance as part of the national revenue and resources. probably the people will be stimulated to greater industry in this direction by the removal of the _vodka_ temptation, and both cease to feel the desire for it and get something in its place. just as a man i once knew who was led to give up drink and gambling at the same time, when wondering how he could possibly live without them, had to change his house and remove to another with a garden. there in gardening work he found his compensation, and at the same time added to the resources of his household. thus may it be in russia.[ ] the list of the russian peasant industries is a long and interesting one, but i won't take up time in enumerating them, as they can be found in the _russian year book_, or probably in most encyclopaedias. i may perhaps mention a few which have especially interested and attracted me, and will no doubt be brought before our own people in the russian shops and exhibitions which are almost certain to be opened before long, and it must be remembered that i am speaking of peasant productions only. there is the beautiful "drawn thread" work, lace-like in character, that all my friends say is unlike anything to be found in our own country, the making of which is promoted by the princess tenisheva and other russian ladies, as well as embroidered and worked linen of all descriptions. toys, and particularly large ornamental wooden spoons, of all kinds are made in great quantities by village folk, and painted boxes such as the japanese make, but with russian scenes upon them, in delightful shades of colour, and with rich and brilliant lacquer inside and out. then there are hand-woven laces of different varieties, and, above all, the orenburg shawls, exquisitely dainty and so fine that the largest of them will go through a wedding-ring, and yet warmer than shetland wool. these also are hand-woven, and come from the province of orenburg, just beyond the urals. ironwork, again, is a speciality in siberia, where they are said to be the best iron-workers in the world, though a friend of mine to whom i mentioned this, when i was showing him some perfectly wonderful and artistic specimens which had been given to me when i first went to siberia, said, "that's because they have the best iron in the world." the stone or gem-cutting industry is an important one. furs, from sheep and wolf-skins up to bears, as well as those of foxes, sables, elk, and reindeer, and other animals, are perfectly dressed by the peasants for their own use, as well as for sale. i have some exquisite work in coloured silks upon hand-woven cloth which had never been out of the tents where they were made till given to me, and above all i cherish a silver box which had been made in a kirghese _uerta_ or tent, far away upon the steppes, and was given to me when i had had services there after my long drive in the _tarantass_. it would hold about a hundred cigarettes, and was given to me for that purpose, is oblong in shape, with a lid of sloping sides, and is made from silver roubles hammered out and ornamented with that beautiful damascening that is said to be a lost art except for the peasants of the steppes. it is such a beautiful bit of workmanship that any one looking at it would think it had come out of a bond street silversmith's, until he turned it over and saw that the bottom is a plain piece of iron, rough and unornamented. let no one think the russian peasant unintelligent or unskilful or wanting in dexterity or resource. the wonder to me is that, with the few advantages and opportunities he has had, he is so capable, intelligent, and quick to learn as he is. and what is important for us to remember is that he loves to learn from an englishman. then, again, we are told that he is brutish in temperament and of low ideals, and never seems to rise above his squalid surroundings. i don't agree that his surroundings _are_ squalid. simple they are, without a doubt, as the canadian shack of three brothers i know is simple, and has nothing in it but beds and tables and chairs, their boxes and saddle-trees, etc., and all is bed and work, but it is not squalid. they have been brought up in a good and refined home, and yet find nothing incongruous in their present abode amongst the pine-woods. that's what a russian peasant's home is also, simple and yet attractive. it is built of logs, the interstices well plastered up with moss and clay to keep out all cold air, cool in summer and warm in winter by reason of the thickness of these outer walls; and it usually has an inner entrance or small room, before the large and chief living-room. there will be two or more small square windows in the latter, an _ikon_ in a corner with a lamp before it and a shelf for flowers below--every one on entering looks towards it, bowing reverently and making the sign of the cross--a very large stove of bricks, whitewashed, upon the top of which rests a wide shelf, carried along the wall as far as is necessary for the whole family to be able to find sleeping-space upon it. there will also be a long wooden bench, a great table, a few wooden stools, and a great cupboard, and, nearly always, cheap coloured pictures of the emperor and empress, whose portraits are to be found in all shops, inns, post offices, and places of public resort. these are the simple surroundings described and made familiar to us by all writers of russian stories of which peasants form a part, and all over the empire they are found just as tolstoi, dostoviesky, turgenieff, and others bring them before us in their interesting tales. take for example tolstoi's _where love is there god is also_, _master and man_, and other parables and tales. when martin avdeitch is looking out from his small abode through his one small window upon the passers-by as simply as man could do, and yet with shrewd and discerning eyes, he is ready for the old pilgrim who comes into his life just at the right moment, and shows him the way to god. or take nikita in _master and man_, in the same volume. in some ways he is extraordinarily simple, and does not appear to know how shamefully he is being exploited by his avaricious and grasping master. we are told in the story that he _does_ know even though he goes on as if he didn't, and does his duty by him as if he were the best of masters, just as he does by an unfaithful and unfeeling wife. it would be difficult to imagine a peasant one would more love to know and understand than nikita, strong, capable, affectionate, and shrewd, as he comes running before us in the story, to harness the horse for his master, the only man on the place that day not drunk, talking to the little brown cob which noses him affectionately, and in the end making a tremendous struggle for his own and his master's life, and winning through himself. thus he goes on steadily as long as he lives, with no other thought but that of duty, until he lies down beneath the _ikon_, and, with the wax candle in his hand just as he had always wished, passes away at peace with every living creature and with god. there are no peasants like the russians, or who think as they do. they are young, one feels, and "the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts," and that is just what those who know them best find out. a friend of mine told this story the other day at a meeting, at which we both had to speak, and i am sure it will bear repetition. a _moujik_, or peasant, was driving a german commercial traveller across the open country, and in the course of their conversation together his companion said to him:-- "your countrymen are nothing but a lot of idolaters. you worship those _ikons_ of yours, and bow down to them as the heathen do," and so on. the _moujik_ was very indignant, and grumbled out his disapproval of all this. "worship our _ikons_ indeed! we don't." and as they went driving on he suddenly drew up, and, pointing to a tree, demanded of the astonished traveller:-- "do you mean to say that i would worship that tree?" "no, no. of course not! drive on." with a very disapproving grunt he drove on, and when they reached their destination, where there was a painter at work upon an outside door, the _moujik_, pointing to the paint-pot beside it, again demanded of the traveller:-- "would you say i could worship that paint?" "no, certainly not! you could not be so silly." "but yet you say i worship an _ikon_, which is only painted wood, and can't see that i only use it to help me to worship god." let the reader reflect upon the way in which that peasant had been thinking over the charge made against him of idolatry, thinking what idolatry really was, and how far he felt himself from it. let him try and imagine how one of our own agricultural labourers would think over such a subject if he were entering into conversation with us as he was digging in our garden, or driving us in a farmer's cart to a country station. i am writing this chapter in a quiet part of the country, and i can't conceive of any of the labouring people here even approaching that line of thought upon which the mind of that _moujik_ began at once to move, though slowly enough no doubt, when he was told he was little better than a worshipper of idols. i read the other day in a book on russia that the peasantry are very dirty in person, and never wash; but again it must be borne in mind, as another remarkably well-informed and sympathetic writer[ ] says also: "when people generalize about the intense misery of russian peasants and the squalor in which they live they should remember that russia is a large country, that it possesses a north and a south, an east and a west, and that what is true about one place is quite untrue about another." i shall be quite prepared, therefore, to be told by people who know russia far better than i can ever hope to do, that their experience has been altogether different from my own, and i shall not dream of questioning or doubting the truth of what they say as far as their own experience goes. in this vast area of which we are thinking there must indeed be great varieties of experience and conditions of life, and it is not contrary to what one might expect to find much nearer home, that the people of one village may be clean in their habits and those of another quite the reverse. but from all i have seen, heard, and read the russian labouring and peasant class have a great desire to be clean. nor is this a new thing at all in the national life. it is nearly forty years ago since sir donald mackenzie wallace told us, in the first edition of his work, of the important part taken by the weekly vapour-bath in the life of the russian peasantry, and described "the public bath possessed by many villages." how many villages of our own, even now, have a public bath? and how many of our own peasantry dream of having what is a perfectly ordinary and weekly habit of the russians--the bath in his own house? my russian and siberian friends tell me how they have always to arrange for their domestic servants to get a good bath, before they change for sunday, every saturday afternoon and evening. mr. rothay reynolds says the same: "my friend took me to see his bath-house. russians are exceedingly clean. in villages one may see a row of twenty cottages, and, thirty yards from them, a row of twenty bath-houses. the one the peasant showed me was a hut with a stove intended to heat the great stones placed above it. on bath nights the stove is lit, and when the stones are hot a bucket of water is thrown on them, so that the place is filled with steam. the bather lies on a bench in the suffocating atmosphere, soaps himself, and ends his ablutions with ice-cold water. in town and country it is held to be a religious duty to take a steam-bath once a week. servants ask if they can go out for a couple of hours to visit one of the great baths in the cities. they go away with clean linen bound up in a handkerchief, and return shining with cleanliness. admission to the cheapest part of a steam-bath is usually a penny farthing, but in the great towns there are luxurious establishments frequented by the rich." there is another custom connected with the bath which testifies to the hardy character of the russian _moujik_. they often rush straight out of the almost suffocatingly hot bath which they have been taking _inside_ the huge earthenware oven that they all possess and, naked and steaming, roll themselves contentedly and luxuriously in the snow. this, as a writer has well said, "aptly illustrates a common russian proverb which says that what is health to the russian is death to the german"--a proverb which has had striking illustration again and again this very winter. probably some of my readers saw the account of the arrival at the russian front, soon after war began, of the bath-train which was so completely furnished and arranged that two thousand men could have a clean bath during the day or twelve thousand in the course of the week. no doubt others have followed since then. the bath to the russian has a certain religious significance also, as in moslem countries; "and no good orthodox peasant," i have read, "would dare to enter a church after being soiled with certain kinds of pollution without cleansing himself physically and morally by means of the bath." "cleanliness is next to godliness" is not a bad motto for any people, and possibly russians will like to know that we have an order of knighthood which dates from , and is named "the most honourable order of the bath," and mentioned regularly in the services at westminster abbey. a great sense of initiative and personal responsibility, as well as corporate spirit at the same time, is clearly given early in life to the peasant mind in russia, for nowhere, i fancy, in the world, except in countries where primitive ideas and customs still obtain, is there the same standard of village life and self-government. there are two kinds of communities. first, there is the village community with its assembly or _mir_, under the presidency of the _staroshta_, who is elected by the village. he presides over the assembly, which regulates the whole life of the village, distributes the land of the commune, decides how and when the working of the land has to be done; and it is specially interesting to know that in this most remarkable and exceptional village government of the _mir_ all women who permanently and temporarily are heads of houses are expected to attend its meetings and to vote--no one ever dreams of questioning their right to do so. in addition to the village assembly and chief elder there is also the "cantonal" assembly, consisting of several village communities together, meeting also under the presidency of a chief elder. all this is, of course, a development of family life where exactly the same ideas of corporate duty in its members, and responsibilities in its head, are held. it is evident that russia has a great future if this view of self-government is gradually carried upwards. the right beginning in constitutional government, surely, is in the family, for there we find the social unit. a state is not a collection or aggregate of individuals, but of families, and all history shows us that the greatness or insignificance of a country has always been determined by the condition of its homes and the character of its family life. if from the family, village, and commune russian constitutionalists work slowly and carefully upwards, giving freedom to make opinions and convictions felt in the votes, just as responsibility is understood and met in the home, until one comes to the head of it all in "the little father"; and if he really rules--or administers rather, for no true father rules only--just as any good father would do, russia the autocratic and despotic, associated in the minds of so many with arbitrary law in the interests of a few, enforced by the knout and prison-chain, may yet give the world a high standard of what the government of a free and self-respecting people ought to be. i should doubt if any peasantry in the world live so simply and frugally or, as they say in the north of england, "thrive so well on it," as the russians. the men are of huge stature, and their wives are strong, comely, and wholesome-looking also. their boys and girls are sturdy, vigorous, and full of life; and yet how bare the table looks at the daily meal, how frugal the fare and small the quantity! it has been the greatest joy to me to have russian boys and girls, in out-of-the-way places, to share my sandwiches or tongue or other tinned meats, when stopping at a rest-house, and see their eyes shine at the unexpected and unusual treat. black rye-bread and cabbage-soup form the staple food of a peasant family, while meat of any kind is rarely seen. the many and rigorous fasts of the church make very little difference to the quality of the food, but only to its quantity. the thanks given by guests to their host and hostess, _spasibo za kleb za sol_, "thanks for bread and salt," tell their own story of a bare and simple diet. many of us have read in _the russian pilgrims to jerusalem_ of the sacks of black and hard crusts the peasants take with them, which quite content them. what a tremendous difference it must have made this winter in the russian food transport from the base to the front, to know that, if a serious breakdown took place, or a hurried march was ordered with which it was difficult for them to keep up, and the worst came to the worst, the men would have their crusts. it has been said in years gone by, and may be true still in many places, that the russian peasant's ideas of paradise is a life in which he would have enough black bread to eat. this bare subsistence and monotonous diet, perhaps, is responsible for the break-out from time to time when the attraction of _vodka_ is too strong to be resisted in a life in which there are no counter-attractions. counter-attractions there ought to be for a being who is created not for work alone, but for that recreation which, as its very name betokens, his whole nature needs if he is to do his best work. "there is a time to work and a time to play," says the proverb writer; and if we hold that in school life "all work and no play makes jack a dull boy," we can hardly wonder that, the world over, those for whom work is provided and play refused will seek, as they have ever done, to make up for its absence by the exhilaration of stimulating and intoxicating drinks. it is when writing upon the drunkenness to be seen at every russian village holiday that one whom i have often quoted in this book,[ ] truly says, "as a whole a village fête in russia is a saddening spectacle. it affords a new proof--where, alas! no proof was required--that we northern nations who know so well how to work have not yet learnt the art of amusing ourselves." as an instance of the real and natural friendliness and essential good nature of the russian, i may say that even when drunk i have never seen or heard of men quarrelling. they do not gradually begin to dispute and recriminate and come to blows or draw the knife, as some of the more hot-blooded people of the south do, when wine excites or spirits cheer them. they seem to become more and more affectionate until they begin to kiss each other, and may be seen thus embracing and rolling over and over together like terriers in the snow. if wine unlooses the tongue, and brings out what is usually hidden away beneath the surface, it evidently brings out nothing very evil from the inner life of the russian peasant. in time to come, if all's well, russia is to be opened up to the traveller, and everywhere the british tourists will be welcomed, and even though the beaten track of the railway may never be left there will be abundant opportunities for observing the habits and customs of the people. a modern writer who, apparently, in passing through siberia never went far from the railway, though he probably stayed for some time at different places on the way, and sat in third and fourth-class carriages even if he did not actually travel in them, managed to see a great deal of peasant life. the railway train is open from end to end, and a great deal may be learnt thus about the people while merely passing through. there are also the long waits at the stations where there are invariably interesting groups of the most romantic and picturesque character--the women vivacious and full of conversation, while the men stand more stolidly by, always making one long to speak and understand their language and to know more about them. there is a story of mr. maurice baring's which illustrates what i have already said of the way in which the russian peasant mind begins to move freely, independently, and responsibly upon lines undreamed of by those who may be addressing him, and shows how far he is from receiving merely conventional and stereotyped impressions, but is always ready to think for himself. mr. baring considers it an instance of his common sense. the reader may also have his own ideas of what it illustrates, but the story is this:-- "a socialist arrived in a village to convert the inhabitants to socialism. he wanted to prove that all men were equal, and that the government authorities had no right to their authority. consequently he thought he would begin by disproving the existence of god, because if he proved that there was no god it would naturally follow that there should be no emperor and no policemen. so he took a holy _ikon_ and said, 'there is no god, and i will prove it immediately. i will spit upon this _ikon_ and break it to bits, and if there is a god he will send fire from heaven and kill me, and if there is no god nothing will happen to me at all.' then he took the _ikon_ and spat upon it and broke it to bits, and said to the peasants, 'you see god has not killed me.' 'no,' said the peasants, 'god has not killed you, but we will'; and they killed him." it is not difficult to imagine that closing scene, knowing russia. there would be no excitement, but all would be quickly and effectually done. the same writer draws our attention to turgenieff's wonderfully appealing sketches of country life, though not many of his works have been translated for english readers as yet. he alludes especially in an essay of last year on "the fascination of russia" to his description of the summer night, when on the plain the children tell each other bogey stories; or the description of that july evening, when out of the twilight from a long way off a voice is heard calling, "antropk-a-a-a!" and antropka answers, "wha-a-a-at?" and far away out of the immensity comes the answering voice, "come home, because daddy wants to whip you!" perhaps the reader may _feel_ nothing as he reads, but all who know and love russia, and are stirred by thoughts of its life and people will feel that it was abundantly worth while to write down such a simple incident. they will understand and feel that stirring within, which russia never fails to achieve again and again for those who have once lived and moved amongst her peasantry, and come under her strange spell and felt her charm. gogol, the greatest of russian humorists, has a passage in one of his books, where, in exile, he cries out to his country to reveal the secret of her fascination:-- "'what is the mysterious and inscrutable power which lies hidden in you?'" he exclaims. "'why does your aching and melancholy song echo unceasingly in one's ears? russia, what do you want of me? what is there between you and me?' this question has often been repeated not only by russians in exile, but by others who have merely lived in russia. "there are none of those spots where nature, art, time, and history have combined to catch the heart with a charm in which beauty, association, and even decay are indistinguishably mingled; where art has added the picturesque to the beauty of nature; and where time has made magic the handiwork of art; and where history has peopled the spot with countless phantoms, and cast over everything the strangeness and glamour of her spell. "such places you will find in france and in england, all over italy, in spain and in greece, but not in russia. "a country of long winters and fierce summers, of rolling plains, uninterrupted by mountains and unvariegated by valleys. "and yet the charm is there. it is a fact which is felt by quantities of people of different nationalities and races; and it is difficult if you live in russia to escape it; and once you have felt it you will never be free from it. the aching melancholy song which, gogol says, wanders from sea to sea throughout the length and breadth of the land, will for ever echo in your heart and haunt the recesses of your memory."[ ] [illustration: _the metropolitan of moscow._] footnotes: [ ] just as i go to press mr. lloyd george has told the house of commons that productivity is already increased per cent. in russia. [ ] the hon. maurice baring. [ ] wallace, _russia_, vol. i, p. . [ ] _russian review_ for february, . chapter iv the clergy the russian church is a daughter of the byzantine church--the youngest daughter--and only dates from the close of the tenth century, when monks came to kieff from constantinople during the reign of vladimir. there would be little "preaching of the cross of christ," i should fancy, as the great means of conversion for that great mass of servile population. we are told, indeed, that vladimir gave the word and they were baptized by hundreds at a time in the river dnieper, and that no opposition was offered to the new religion as the old nature worship had only very lightly held them, and had no definite priesthood. the new religion, however, soon acquired a very strong hold upon the people of all classes, and the power and influence of the church grew just as the state gained ever-new importance; the power of the patriarch increasing as that of the tsar increased, until in a comparatively short time the orthodox church stood alone, and owned no eastern supremacy on the one hand, nor yielded to the approaches of the roman papacy on the other. by the end of the sixteenth century the other eastern patriarchs recognized and accepted the patriarchate of moscow as being an independent one, and fifth of the patriarchates of the east. this absolute independence only lasted about a hundred years, and the masterful peter the great laid his hands upon the church as upon other parts of the national life, for he certainly had little cause to love the clergy, and appointed no successor to the patriarch of moscow when he died in . it was very interesting to hear, from the procurator of the holy synod himself, m. sabloff, when i first went to petrograd, what great importance peter attached to this office when he constituted the holy synod in to take the place of the patriarchate. "he used to say," he mused, looking down upon the ground, "that the procurator of the holy synod was the _oculus imperatoris_ (the emperor's right hand, literally 'the emperor's eye')," and as he said so one could not but remember how his predecessor, m. pobonodonietzeff had upheld that tradition, and, next to the emperor, had himself been the most prominent and autocratic figure in the whole empire. the procurator, however, is not the president of the holy synod, as the metropolitan of petrograd fills that office, but he is present as the emperor's representative, and though all the other members of the synod are the highest ecclesiastical dignitaries of the russian church, yet as they are summoned by the emperor, and his special lay representative is there always to represent and state his opinion and wishes, the emperor himself must have an infinitely greater influence than our own sovereigns possess, though theoretically they fill the same office of "defender of the faith." he is described in one of the fundamental laws as "the supreme defender and preserver of the dogmas of the dominant faith," while immediately afterwards it is added "the autocratic power acts in the ecclesiastical administration of the most holy governing synod created by it." the emperor must have unlimited power, typified by his crowning himself at his coronation, in ecclesiastical administration, and the bishops and other clergy, who are intensely loyal, would probably not wish it otherwise; but he could not affect or change, even by a hair's breadth, any of the doctrines of the church nor one of the ceremonies of its liturgy. should the reader wish to know more about church and state in russia he will find a most admirable chapter (xix) with that heading in sir donald m. wallace's book. interesting and important as the position of the russian church--in many ways so like our own--is for us to-day, it is only possible now to glance briefly at its constitution. the clergy are divided into two classes, the black and the white, the black being the monastic and the white the secular and married clergy. all the patriarchs or archbishops, bishops, abbots, and higher dignitaries are taken from the ranks of the celibate and monastic clergy and have attained a high standard of education. all the parochial clergy, on the other hand, are educated in seminaries, or training colleges, but only those who show special ability go on to the academy, an institution which occupies the same position for the clergy as the university fills in civil education. they do not reach a very high standard as a rule, and before being appointed to a parish must be married. no unmarried priest can be in charge of a parish, and should he become a widower he must resign his parish, and either enter a monastery or retire into private life; but, in either case, he must not marry again. many years ago ( ) there appeared an interesting story of russian life in the chief russian literary magazine, and it was translated for the "pseudonym library" in a cheap form under the title of _a russian priest_.[ ] it is still to be obtained, and it is most refreshing to read again this brief story of a brilliant young seminarist going on to the academy and attaining such distinctions, that he might have aspired to any high office in the church, yet impelled by his ideals, and full of the christ-like spirit, choosing the lowest grade of humble and village life, and "touching bottom," so as to speak, in his church's work. as far as i can judge it describes still quite faithfully and clearly the relations of clergy and people in russian villages and hamlets. let me now, however, speak briefly of some of the clergy i have met, taking such as i consider fairly representative of the different classes. i have felt myself that i have learnt a great deal more about the spirit and aims of the russian church, and what we may regard as its present and future attitude to ourselves, from knowing its clergy and devout laity than ever i could have hoped to do by reading books about them, or from lectures, addresses, or letters written by them. i will speak first of the archbishop of warsaw, who received me at petrograd on my first visit, in place of the metropolitan antonius who had sent a very brotherly message of welcome from his sick-room, where shortly afterwards he died. the archbishop nicolai--russians speak of their bishops and archbishops in this way, using the christian name and not that of the see--is a most imposing and fatherly figure, and received me attired, just as his portrait shows him, wearing a very rich-looking satin robe, decorated with orders, and with a large cross of magnificent diamonds in the centre of his black cap or mitre. he had been in the united states, in charge of the russian work there, and also in england, and spoke a little english, but it was so little that i was glad to have mr. feild, a churchwarden of the english church, who has lived in russia all his life, to be my interpreter. his grace was full of interest, sympathetic and intelligent, in all that i could tell him about our own church at home, in russia, and on the continent generally, very keen to know of my impressions, and of my reception by the procurator of the holy synod, and by the official at the ministry of the interior, who is responsible for religious administration. i shall have to speak later of the status of our anglican church in russia, and so here i will only say that it led me to speak of the work of our anglican chaplain (the rev. h. c. zimmerman) at warsaw, whereupon the archbishop said at once, "ask him to come and see me when i am at warsaw three months from now." i did so, and mr. zimmerman wrote to tell me afterwards that he had had the kindest reception, with quite a long conversation, had been presented with souvenirs, and dismissed with a blessing, his grace saying to him as he left:-- "now, regard me as your bishop, when your own is not here, and come to me whenever you are in need of advice or information." the archbishop loves to think of his pleasant recollections of england and its church life. "ah," he said, "your english sunday! how beautiful it is to walk along piccadilly on sunday morning, with all the shops closed, and no one in the streets except quiet-looking people, all on their way to church!" london _is_ very different in that respect on sunday mornings, whatever it is later in the day, from every capital in the world. all is quiet, and church and worship are in the air. then the archbishop told me of his going to s. paul's cathedral, sitting in the congregation, and enjoying it all, until it had gradually come home to him during the second lesson that something was being read from one of the gospels. on finding by inquiry that this was so, he rose at once to his feet, and looked with amazement upon the people _sitting_ all round him while the holy gospel was being read. i'm afraid my telling him that we always stand for it in the liturgy only added to his surprise, for he murmured to himself in a puzzled way, "why in one place and not in another?" dear old man, he presented me with his portrait, here given, and all his published works, and hoped, as i do, that it would not be long before i went to see him again. when at length the metropolitan antonius, after a long illness, passed away, he was succeeded by the archbishop of moscow who, in his turn, was succeeded by archbishop macarius, and it is of the last-named that i will next give briefly my experience. it was on january , , according to our calendar, and on december , , according to the russian, when i had the feeling of being in two years at the same time, and of spending the same christmas first in london and then in russia, that he received me in his palace at moscow. palace it certainly is in the character and spaciousness of its rooms, but the furniture is what we should consider, in our own country, simple and rather conventional. the salon, or drawing-room, was very large, with the usual polished floor and rugs laid upon it. at one side two rows of chairs, facing each other, stood out from the wall, against which a sofa was placed, and in front of that a table. it was exactly the same at the archiepiscopal palace at riga, where i had been a few months before, and the same procedure was followed on both occasions. [illustration: _the convent at ekaterinburg, siberia._] first the archbishop warmly embraced me, kissing me on either cheek and then upon the lips, and then courteously waved me to the seat of honour upon the sofa. at riga when the archbishop took his seat upon the sofa he indicated the place beside him which i did not notice, and took the chair. but just as i was about to sit down, madame alexaieff, who had most kindly come to interpret, said hurriedly and in rather a shocked tone, "take the seat beside him, he wishes it," and, remembering the etiquette of the sofa as observed still by old-fashioned people in germany, i did as i was told. at moscow, however, i was more observant, and when the archbishop courteously waved his hand to the sofa i bowed to him and at once sat down, but only to find that he himself took a chair next me and left me alone in the place of dignity. it was quite in keeping with his whole bearing and conversation throughout, for he is evidently one of the most humble and unassuming of men. yet he has covered himself with distinction in the course of his long life spent chiefly far away in the altai country in siberia, below omsk, engaged in work of a missionary character. no one is more respected in the whole of russia. he is just as shown in the portrait he gave me, slight and not tall, and his whole face lights up with keen interest as he talks and enforces his words with appropriate gestures. he was very caustic upon the subject of the non-attendance at church of educated and wealthy people in a certain place, which perhaps it will be kinder not to mention. "no," he said, "they are never to be seen at any service, however important and solemn it may be. there are none there but the same common people who are always crowding into their churches. at least," he added more deliberately, "if the others are there, they adopt the common people's dress for the occasion!" his expression and gesture as he said this were inimitable and indescribable, and the little touch of humour made one's heart warm towards him. he was much interested in hearing anything i could tell him of our own church, and delighted, in a wistful sort of way, to hear the many details i gave him of its progress, especially in the extension of its missionary activities and ever-deepening interest in social questions and economic problems, as they affect the labouring classes and the very poor. his eyes sparkled as he too spoke of the poor, and told me what i should hear from the grand duchess elizabeth, whom i was to see that afternoon, about the work to which she has given her life since the assassination of her husband, the grand duke serge. like all his brethren of the episcopate he was greatly interested in anything i could tell him of the archbishop of canterbury and of his views and hopes about our own and the russian churches, and the christian church as a whole. he looked thoughtfully down as i spoke to him about unity and inter-communion under special circumstances, and said rather sadly:-- "how one would love more unity! but how much ground there is to be covered, how many difficulties to be cleared away before that can come!" i smiled a little, at which he looked at me questioningly, and so i said:-- "i smiled because i thought of the brotherly and loving way in which you have received me to-day, and in which you are speaking so much and so freely of what is in your heart, and if these kind and friendly relations go on increasing between our churches it will be progress such as he must love to see who said 'by this shall all men know that ye are my disciples if ye have love one to another.' that will be progress of the best kind, and, even if it is slow, i for one shall greatly rejoice that we are moving at all in the right direction. let us only keep moving, and we shall arrive in time." we talked on about my own experiences the year before just to the south of where he had lived so long, and when i told him that i hoped this year to go to the altai, his own actual country, he looked as though he envied me the journey. after embracing me again he accompanied me into the ante-room, where a poor peasant woman was waiting to see him with an _ikon_ to be blessed. there was a great pile of quite cheap _ikons_ for the poor, towards which he waved his hand and said, "and i have all these to bless also." as i left i could only murmur to myself, "the dear old saint." he made me feel some sense of being back at troas or miletum or ephesus, or coming out from the presence of barnabas or silas or st. paul. it was truly apostolic! of course the interpreter makes a tremendous difference, but again, as at petrograd and riga, i had an excellent friend and helper in mr. birse, one of the churchwardens of our church in moscow, who had spoken russian all his life. i may add also that, as in mr. feild's case at petrograd, he enjoyed the interview as much as i did, and would probably catch little subtleties of expression and self-revelation that would be lost to me by the hurried kind of interpretation that was necessary. the next great dignitary i will try and describe, though i know i cannot possibly do justice to the dignity and nobility of character evident in all she says and does, is the abbess magdalena of the great convent at ekaterinburg in siberia. the convent is a most imposing group of buildings, stretching along an extended front, with cupolas, spires, and pinnacles, and is much frequented by pilgrims from far and near who come to pray in its chapel before a famous _ikon_. the abbess and all her nuns wear the same kind of black dress, with cap and veil, quite black and unredeemed by any trace of white linen or cambric. the first thing that impressed me, even before i entered the gate, was the beauty of their singing. the choir were practising for a service on the emperor's name-day on the morrow, and their hymn was the most beautiful thing i had ever heard from women's voices. it seemed to me that all the four parts were there. the bass certainly was, and i was told that the nuns with deep voices submitted them to careful training until they were able to reach very low notes indeed. there was, of course, no accompanying music, the conductor just waving her open hand to and fro to beat time, and the precision and crispness of the whole hymn were wonderful. the chapel is a fine building beautifully painted by the nuns themselves, and its services are conducted by a priest and deacon. the deacon is a special feature in the ranks of the russian clergy, and is responsible for all the choral parts of the services, apart from the actual priest's part in the liturgy of course, and is chosen for the beauty of his voice. if a young man has a very fine voice and is wondering what use he shall make of it, he sees nothing at all unbecoming or incongruous in saying that he has not made up his mind yet whether he shall choose the church or the stage. [illustration: _the abbess magdalena._] when i was being introduced to the ekaterinburg deacon, my friend and interpreter whispered to me, "he gave up the opera to come here." i thought, in my ignorance, that he had left the world for religion, and full of sympathetic interest said:-- "ask him if he has ever regretted it!" and was rather disconcerted when he said in an off-hand way:-- "oh! well of course i missed things at first, but i'm gradually getting used to it." the abbess confided to us that sometimes from the way he offered the incense she thought he must be thinking he was on the stage still. he was a remarkably good-looking man with a wonderfully rich voice, and as none of the clergy ever cut hair or beard after ordination, and his was just getting full, he looked a most picturesque and interesting figure. i should like to meet him again, and put the same question, in the hope of a somewhat more encouraging answer. the abbess, as well as managing and inspiring her sisters, superintends a really remarkable work. her revenue is a very large one, and she gives a portion of it to the bishop of ekaterinburg for the work of his diocese--he is a young and energetic prelate whom i greatly liked when i knew him later--and out of the remainder she supports an orphanage for six hundred girls in the convent. the remarkable thing, however, about her management is its essentially practical, sensible, and considerate character. the girls do not wear a uniform, but can consult and improve their own taste in dress. they are carefully studied individually, and, while all are educated in school in the same way, special preparation is given for different callings in life according to the inclination and aptitude shown by the girls. many, of course, prefer domestic service as being simpler and perhaps more in keeping with what they have known before coming there; but the more enterprising and competent can be, and are, taught all sorts of things which these very modern nuns do with such great ability themselves. they play, sing, do all sorts of "white work" for russian and french purchasers, and are well up in modern photography. they carve, paint, make _ikons_, illuminate pictures, and do wonderful embroidery. there is a wide choice, therefore, for the girls under their charge, and they avail themselves of it to the full. just before i was there a girl with a wonderful voice, after having been trained, had been launched, at the age of twenty-six, upon her career as a member of the russian imperial opera. i described this very modern work as carried out by the nuns of a very ancient convent, on my return, to the archbishop of canterbury, who remarked significantly, as i daresay many of my readers will, "and _that_ is in siberia!" from abbess let me pass to abbot, but to a very different community. at tiumen, the farthest point i reached in north siberia, and where i had been to give services to a family living alone there, and from scotland originally, i went out in the afternoon to see an old church outside the town where there had formerly been a fairly large monastery. it is very small and humble now, i am sure, from the few we saw there, and their neglected appearance as they went about their work in old and well-worn habits. the church was locked, but one of their number fetched the keys and showed us over the church, explaining their oldest _ikons_. as we walked towards the gate and our little carriage, he was full of curiosity about ourselves and our church, and at last, as he questioned me rather closely, my friend could keep it in no longer, and explained:-- "he's a bishop, an english bishop, and he has come from london to give us lonely folk a service!" the effect was extraordinary. "an english bishop! do you say it? only to think of it! and i in my dirty clothes like any common labourer! and i am the abbot! i beg of you! oh! yes, i must insist. do not deny me. enter my humble house, and let me feel, even if you only take a seat upon a chair for a moment, that i have entertained you!" such hospitable intent was not to be withstood, and willingly enough we went with him into his small and, as he said, very humble abode, feeling how very touching and appealing it all was. we entered, our host saying cheerfully, "be good enough to walk on," and found ourselves in a very bare and cheerless-looking parlour with stiff chairs, with black horsehair seats, round the walls, and a bare table in the centre, upon which stood a conventional and faded little basket of wax-flowers and fruit under a glass shade. on looking round we saw the good abbot had disappeared, so we sat down and looked about us, hoping he had not gone off to order food; but in an incredibly short time, as if he had been a "lightning-change artist," he was back again. and what a transformation! the dirty and faded brown cassock was gone, and a flowing rich black robe had taken its place, a black mitre with dependent veil was upon his head, a magnificent chain and cross hung from his neck, and, thoroughly satisfied with his change, he looked as though he were saying "now we meet upon equal terms!" his boyish delight was good to see as he said:-- "now let me welcome you and greet you!" and he kissed me as other bishops had done. these embraces are no light ordeal, as the good clergy never shave or cut their hair, and are very heavily bearded. but what of that, if one can feel as i did that day, when driving off and waving our adieux, that one had been breathing apostolic air, and had been very near in the spirit to "peter and john"? it only remains to give my experience of a typical parish priest, and then i shall feel that the russian clergy have been fairly described. upon my arrival at the spassky mine, during my first journey in siberia, in the very heart of the kirghese steppes, the manager told me what had passed between himself and the parish priest, kept there by his company to minister to the labourers in the smelting works. these were all russians, though the labourers in the mine itself were chiefly kirghese and mohammedans. "you will be interested to hear that our bishop is coming to see us," he had said by way of beginning. "your bishop! where from and what for?" "he is coming across the steppes, and from london, to give us services." "you don't mean to say so!" was the startled exclamation. "i never heard of such a thing! your bishop, all the way from london, driving night and day for five days across the steppes, to give you twenty english folk your services! why, our bishop is only two or three days down the river at omsk, but we could not expect him to come here for us." "well, you see," observed my friend, "our english church does not forget her children, even if they are scattered far and wide. and we shall be glad to see him and receive holy communion and have sermons from him about our faith and highest duties." after a moment's silence the priest looked up suddenly and said:-- "i wonder if your bishop will come to our service on sunday and join with us in worship? if he will address us how glad we shall be to hear him!" "he will certainly come, and, what is more, we will all come with him, and we will all be at divine service together for once. suppose we have our celebration at . , and you arrange yours for . instead of . , and we will all come over together? we shall fill our little room, and can't invite others; but we will all accompany the bishop to the church." [illustration: _the russian priest at spassky._] next day (sunday), after our communion--all the staff received it--we went over, i in my robes, to the church, and were received by the wardens, the choir leading off with a hymn as we entered. the wardens at once conducted me behind the screen where the priest stood before the altar in his vestments, with a boy server on either side beautifully vested, the one in gold and the other in silver tissue. after bowing to me gravely and reverently, he began the service. nothing is _seen_ of it by the congregation, and they hear only the voice of the priest, and are told from the other side of the screen what is passing within. the russian liturgy is full of traditional ceremonies, and rather bewildering, i should think, to an english churchman; but there is no question as to the great reverence which distinguishes it. the priest confided to his manager afterwards how nervous he felt at celebrating with a bishop at his side, and how anxious he felt to make no mistake. he did not show it, however, and was as reverent and absorbed as any priest ought to be when back again in thought and word and deed in the upper room, where, on the same night on which he was betrayed, our lord left us the memorial of his passion and the sacrament of his love and grace. it was touching also to see the little servers struggling between curiosity and the claims of the service, but the latter triumphed; and not till they had taken off their little vestments and stood forth in their ordinary clothes did they permit themselves a good look at their strange visitor, and show themselves ready to have a word or two from him. the priest, when he had taken an extra little service which some old men had asked for, came over to the manager's house and told me of his work, asked questions, and received little gifts, and told me how inspiring it was to all the russians to know that their english staff were religious, as well as clever and able men, and glad to have their services when they could. in one way this priest was not typical, for he was paid his stipend by the company, and not dependent upon his people. in all ordinary parishes this is not the case. the parish priest receives a nominal stipend from public sources, but depends upon his people for the rest. they give small contributions on their name days--a very substantial sum is received on s. john's day, as a favourite russian name is ivan, or john--when the priest comes to bless their house or workshop, or for a marriage, christening, or funeral, or to give the sacrament in illness. there is often, usually, indeed, bargaining on all these occasions. a portion of their fruits and crops is claimed. all sorts of contributions are made throughout the year, and, except in town parishes where able clergy have large incomes, given ungrudgingly by their people, the priest and his wife are always trying to get as much as they can for their services, and the people, who are very poor, to give as little. this cannot lead to good relations between clergy and people, and, as the clergy in the country seldom if ever preach, there is no personal teaching to bring them together. officially, therefore, it is true to say that the russians value and reverence the ministry of their parish clergy, while, personally, they do not feel any great interest in them or their families, nor see any reason why they should. and certainly, as a rule--the fault of the system no doubt--they do not love them. let me now describe the service which i have mentioned upon a previous page, conducted after the liturgy was over and the people had been dismissed. the priest told me four old men had asked to have a few special prayers and a reading from the gospels, and i stayed to share it. the prayers were said, petition and response, by all five standing before the screen, after which the four old men, with rough and rugged faces, shaggy hair, and wide flowing beards, closed up together, and, as they stood back to back, the priest placed the beautifully-bound copy of the gospels upon their heads and began to read. the rough faces seemed at once to change their whole expression: their blue eyes sparkled, and there appeared that light upon every countenance which "never was on sea or land," or anywhere else except upon the face of one who is in communion with god. my thoughts went back to the story of moses as he came down from sinai, and veiled his face as he spoke to the people, lest they should find there that which they could neither bear to see or understand. one's thoughts are always going back to scriptural scenes and descriptions when amongst the russian peasantry. [illustration: _s. isaac's cathedral, petrograd._] footnotes: [ ] published by t. fisher unwin, paternoster square. chapter v religious life and worship it is well sometimes to define our terms and phrases, and it is absolutely necessary in this case. what is it that we mean when we speak of the religious life of a people, christian and non-christian alike? our soldiers have been fighting shoulder to shoulder with hindoos and mohammedans, whose british commander, on the eve of their first battle, addressed them in words which ought to be long remembered by those who are working and praying for the hastening of god's kingdom, appealing to their faith, and reminding them that prayers were ascending from mosque and from temple to the god of all, on their behalf. the hindoos and moslems have their religious life as well as ourselves. and it behoves us of the christian church, especially when such stirring words can be addressed to two eastern peoples, so widely different in their creeds, to remind them that their prayers are going up to the same "god of all," to look very earnestly and sympathetically at the religious life and worship of all the different churches which make up the "mystical body of christ and the blessed company of all faithful people." it is along that way and that alone--the affectionate, respectful, and sympathetic interest in the religious life and worship of those who differ from us and those not in communion with us, that unity lies, and i feel sure there is no other. the religious life of a man, or people, is his life as it is influenced by the creed he professes and the worship he offers. we are not thinking at the moment of a moral life, for a moral life is led by many who, as they would express it, "make no religious profession." it is open to us to question whether they are not more influenced than they are aware by the religion of those about them, which is in the very air they breathe, for there is such an influence as "religious atmosphere"; or we may think also that they have more religion than they suspect; but they themselves would disclaim all this. some live, as john stuart mill lived, frankly without religion, yet leading a blameless and irreproachable moral life. then as a contrast there are the lives of religious people leaving as far as moral values are concerned much to be desired, and probably, in many cases, most of all by themselves. religious life, however, is creed and worship translated into daily life and expression, effort and achievement; and accepting that definition i unhesitatingly claim for the russian people that they are one of the most religious peoples in the world. their religion is the desire and effort to know god. "this is life eternal, to know god, and jesus christ whom he has sent." the russian has not been fully taught as yet the ethical and moral side of this knowing god, though he is ready for it, but only its mystical side. he seeks the knowledge of god, quite simply, as a spiritual experience. it will always be found that when races have received civilization and christianity suddenly, as the russians have done, while they astonish and charm by their spiritual fervour and deep earnestness, they disappoint by their want of consistency in moral life. but spiritual fervour and great earnestness arising out of a real need for god and a deep sense of his meeting that need "fulfilling minds and granting hearts' desires," and a real sense of communion with the great eternal in christ in beautiful and uplifting worship, afford the best of all foundations for building up moral conduct permanently and well. to the russian, as to the ancient hebrew, moral law will only lastingly and effectually appeal when prefaced by "god hath said." his religion is god; the knowledge of the most high as revealed in christ. and he is one of the most consistently religious persons in the world, for he must have his religion everywhere, and, just as the hebrew felt it must be, "when talking with his children, when sitting in his house, when walking by the way, when going to lie down, and when rising up, written upon the posts of his house, and on the gates." the mystical or spiritual temperaments of the two peoples are much the same. russians have a passion for god. they never want to be away from the sense and consciousness of his presence. only when they have gained some sense of this spiritual endowment of the russian race will my readers be able to see where their religious life corresponds with our own, and where it widely diverges from it. we have spoken of this war as a righteous war; the russians as a religious one! they have brought their religion into it as they have never done into any war before. a russian officer, for instance, gave a very picturesque account of the great battle of the vistula last october, and ended with these words: "my company was the first to cross the river, which seemed to boil from the bursting of the shells. afterwards nine companies rushed the enemy's position. a priest with long, streaming hair, and holding high a cross amid a hail of bullets, stood blessing the soldiers as they ran past." that is the true russian, his religion everywhere and in everything. there is nothing in life, throughout the year, however secular it may seem to us to be, which does not have that blessing by the priest. the war has had it from first to last. all through mobilization, in the families from which the bread-winner was to go, there would be special little private services such as i have described in my last chapter. on the day when the conscripts were to depart from the village there would be the liturgy in church, with all who could be present, and others outside. there would be, it has been described for us, the solemn reading of the holy gospel in the open-air, the book resting upon a living lectern; and as they rode away the last thing the departing men would see, as with those nine companies on the vistula, would be the cross lifted high by a priest, with his long hair streaming over his shoulders, or out upon the wind. it would be just the same all through the long journeys: the sacred _ikons_ were carried, the priest marched steadily along, or sat in the railway carriages with the soldiers, and always with his cross. the soldiers of course saluted their priests as they saluted their officers, and for a time it was a little puzzling to decide how this salute should be suitably returned in such a war as this. for a priest to raise his hand to his cap did not seem to belong to his sacred office, and so it was decided he should touch his cross instead. quite apart from the regular and official services, the priest would be always fulfilling his part in bringing god home to his countrymen, until the very end when he stood blessing them, as we have been told, as they rushed past him to attack, many of them to return no more. there is something very inspiring in the thought that the last earthly object many of them saw as they rushed on to death was the cross of him who had robbed death of all its terrors, and brought immortality to light. one of my great reasons for looking to the orthodox church of russia to give us our first opportunity, in seeking to promote the larger unity of christendom, is, as i had occasion to say at a large public meeting in london last year, that, like ourselves, they wish to have the new testament sense of the presence of christ. i cannot use any other phrase to express my meaning. it is to me the whole spirit of their worship, not only at the holy communion, where one would expect it, but at all the other services as well. litanies form a very important part of their worship, and as one hears that softly repeated "lord, have mercy" (_gospodi pomilui_) again and again from the choir, it is as if they were all conscious of speaking straight to their lord with the feeling that he is there himself to grant their prayer. no other refrain that i have ever heard has the same appealing note of real and moving faith. i have attended the "all-night service" at s. isaac's, in petrograd, on saturdays at p.m. it lasts two hours in cathedrals and churches, but all night in monasteries and convents, and some of us going to s. isaac's for the first time would almost wish that it could be "all night" there also. the glorious richness of the men's voices, their deep rolling basses and sweet tenors, the silvery trebles of the boys--there is no organ or other accompaniment--when heard as a new experience makes one involuntarily think to one's self "i have never heard prayer and praise expressed like this before." whether one is behind the screen, where i was conducted at once, or standing with the choir before it--there are no seats in a russian church--noting their picturesque uniforms like those of officers, and their profound reverence, or moving amongst the congregation, and looking towards the screen, the same impression is given everywhere and by every one, "we are praising thee, o god, we acknowledge thee to be the lord. thou art the king of glory, o christ." [illustration: _interior of a russian church._] the screen separates the sacrarium from the body of the church, and is a carved partition painted and gilded, and in the cathedrals and great churches, is covered with silver and gold _ikons_, often richly jewelled, and with numerous lamps and tapers burning before them. at each side of this screen is a narrow door through which people seem to pass at will, to and fro, for there is a great feeling of freedom in a russian church, and every one does just what he feels led to do. no ladies, however, may ever pass behind. in its centre are folding doors which are only used for ceremonial purposes, and are called "the royal gates." in the liturgy it is a moment of deep solemnity when they are opened wide, and the priest passes through carrying the bread and wine for consecration. this is "the great entrance." at the evening service on saturday night also there is an entrance, when the deacon carries the gospels through, before which the gates stand open wide for a little while, and the congregation may look straight through. immediately within stands the altar, a perfectly plain, square structure with nothing at all upon it but a large copy of the four gospels, and behind it is the seven-branched candlestick. it has an extraordinary effect upon the worshipper who has only just come to russia when the royal gates are thrown open thus, and, with incense filling the air, the seven lamps on the great candlestick come into view. it is for a moment as if one was back in the days of zacharias and elisabeth, waiting for him to come forth through the gates to bless us, as he did on that memorable occasion after the announcement of the birth of s. john the baptist. it is, however, only for a moment that the temple fills the mind, for on looking up the representation of our lord is there in the great window above, where he seems to look down upon us in love and blessing, and "the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever," seems to have new and blessed significance. russian worship to me is just dominated by the very presence of christ. all the meretricious surroundings, the lights and glittering and jewelled _ikons_ have not the least power to diminish the joyous, thankful sense of it. he is in the midst of us "gathered together in his name." every one seems to feel it, every one seeks to realize it. they are there for that! that is why the beautiful voices keep singing "_gospodi pomilui_" or "lord, be merciful to us." we feel it is real worship, and i can only hope that many of my readers who have not had the joy of it in that special way may yet have the opportunity afforded them. there are russian churches, of course, in england, and i have happily and helpfully worshipped in the russian church in paris at p.m. on saturdays; but russian worship can only be truly known and fully shared in russia. this "new testament sense of the presence of christ," as i have called it, is no doubt promoted by the extraordinary veneration given to the gospels, both in their external and internal form. there is an intense feeling of close personal attention as the deacon carries them through the royal gates. they are always beautifully bound, rimmed and clasped with gold or silver, and often sparkling with diamonds and other precious stones. a beautifully bound copy--in ordinary churches the best they have--rests upon the altar, in its very centre, with a silken covering, and when the priest comes to celebrate he first kisses it, and then, lifting it up and setting it upon end, and laying the corporal where it has rested, with the chalice and paten upon it, proceeds to the liturgy. the consecration takes place on that part of the altar where the gospels have lain before, and where they will again be laid when the service is over. the four evangelists always appear painted upon the royal gates, together with a representation of the annunciation, our lord, and the holy virgin, on either side. this is never departed from. in every church which follows traditional lines there are the four huge pillars holding up the whole structure--typifying the four evangelists again. upon the roof they are set forth in the four cupolas, which are always there at the corners, while a fifth rising above them typifies our lord over and above and dominating, yet supported by, them. then there is nothing in the ordinary services to compare with the reading of the holy gospel to the people, nor is any special or private ministration complete without reading some portion of these, the most important parts of the sacred scriptures. it is easy to see, therefore, how it comes about that the russian sense of the living christ is essentially that which is realized by his apostles and described in the new testament. last year no less than three writers, as different from each other as they could well be, writing of visits paid to the holy land--mr. robert hichens, the novelist, in _the holy land_, sir frederick treves, the well-known and eminent surgeon, in _the land that is desolate_, and mr. stephen graham, in _with the russian pilgrims to jerusalem_--all alike show us that no one had made the same impression upon them as the russians who had come to realize their lord in the very place where he had lived our human life. they all so clearly felt that those simple-minded folk, as they followed traditions and visited one place after another from bethlehem to calvary, and wept where he had wept, and prayed where he had prayed, looked over the places and the waters upon which his eyes had rested, crossed themselves reverently again and again where he had suffered, and sung _te deum_ and _alleluia_ where he had risen, were looking not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen, believing with all the strength of their great and simple hearts that "the things which are seen are temporal, while the things which are not seen are eternal." to the devout russian the so-called good things of this life are unsubstantial and swiftly passing experiences, while the great and only realities worth thinking about seriously are those spiritual experiences of the apostles as they went in and out with christ and companied with him, which are now described in the gospels that we may have the same "even to the end of the ages." if russia gives, as we pray she may, a lead to christendom in the direction of unity, she will have a wonderfully uplifting and apostolic contribution to offer to the common stock of our christian heritage. and yet with all this wealth of very real spiritual experience there goes also a sad deficiency of moral conduct. "but that vitiates it all," some of my readers may exclaim. no; it does not. we, with our very different temperament, have come to substitute morality for religion and the ethical for the spiritual, whereas for the "whole man," as even ecclesiastes tells us, _both_ are necessary. morality is not religion at all while the spiritual faculties are absolutely quiescent and the soul knows no need of god nor cries out for him. a deep sense of the spiritual and a longing and effort to attain touch with the eternal is religion, although an imperfect morality impairs and cripples the adequate witness, the full unfettered enjoyment of it. and, as another writer has lately done in the political sphere, i would plead for the russians that "they did not get a fair start." i have already described the rough-and-ready way in which they were converted to christianity, never having anything like our opportunities of instruction from the first. i have never heard a russian sermon! the vast majority of the clergy have never been trained to preach, and would not be able to do so if they tried. the people are not taught at all in church, except by what is read to them in scripture, or what they read for themselves. let englishmen give them "fair play" all round, both in political and constitutional, and also in moral deficiencies; and let us remember that it was to a body of real and earnest christians--"saints" and "faithful," he himself calls them--that s. paul found it necessary to write and caution against "the lusts of the flesh, foolish talking and unseemly jesting, covetousness and uncleanness, lying and stealing." if it was necessary to write those fifth and sixth chapters of the ephesians to a body of christian believers of whose sincerity an apostle had no doubt, we may well have hopeful patience with a great body of our fellow christians whose want of consistency in conduct provokes such ready criticism. it is well known how a mystical people like the west indians (i have described it at length in a former book, _a bishop among bananas_, in chap. v) resent being accused of theft when helping themselves to "god's gifts," as they call them, in the shape of fruit and fowls, when they would not dream of taking money, clothing, or other material things, or would consider themselves thieves if they did. and so it interested me to learn the other day that the russian peasant views thefts of the same kind of things in much the same way, drawing in his mind a distinction between that which god gives for all and that which man produces for himself. it is imperfect reasoning, we know, as there is no real distinction between what a man produces by cultivation and what he manufactures; but we can understand an untrained and rather childlike mind making such a distinction. the devout russian peasantry in this stage often seem to illustrate our lord's words concerning things revealed to "babes" which even the "wise and prudent" seem to miss. sir donald m. wallace again tells the story in _our russian ally_ which he told in his _russia_--it will bear constant repetition--as an instance of real spiritual insight in a simple and untrained mind. "i remember once asking a common labourer," he says, "what he thought of the mussulman tartars among whom he happened to be living; and his reply, given with evident sincerity, was--'not a bad sort of people.' 'and what about their religion?' i inquired. 'not at all a bad sort of faith--you see they received it like the colour of their skins, from god.'" he assumed, of course, in his simple piety, that whatever comes from god must be good. it necessitated a very special spiritual experience and real vision before a christian apostle could say the same thing, "of a truth i perceive that god is no respecter of persons"; but that common labourer in this little incident had taken in the same wide outlook, in a perfectly normal way, from his ordinary surroundings and the religious influences which make up such an important portion of his life. the lesson is learnt early. i was, one morning, in an elementary school in siberia, just before the work of the day began, to speak to the children. they opened with prayer, but how different from prayers in our own schools! the master and teachers did nothing except pray with the rest. at a sign that all was ready a boy of twelve stepped out and took his place before the _ikon_ in its corner, and then bowing with that inimitable grace which belongs alone to the russian when at prayer, and making the sign of the cross, he gravely led the simple prayers of the whole school, all singing softly and reverently in unison. it was all inexpressibly touching and appealing, and to be treasured up with those other things of which one says, "i shall never forget." the sign of the cross is always made very slowly and solemnly, quite differently from other churches, and from right to left upon the breast, and it is always accompanied by a slow and reverent bowing of the head, and is repeated usually three times. it is the special sign during the public services that a worshipper is just then feeling his or her own part in it. people do not use this devotion at set times during service, but just when they wish, and as the spirit moves them. i have been in the s. isaac's choir when all the men and boys were singing a hymn, and suddenly a man near me would stop, bow, and cross himself devoutly, and then resume his hymn. no one would take the least notice, but all would go on singing as before. then a choir-boy, after a moment or two, would do the same, his companions continuing to sing till their turn of being moved within came also. i have seen soldiers in the ranks do just the same when bareheaded at an outdoor service. there is so much spontaneity and elasticity and liberty in russian worship. they do just as they feel "led by the spirit" to do. [illustration: _the cathedral at riga._] one of the most interesting experiences i had last year was attending on the feast of the epiphany--the appointed day for that and similar services--the blessing of the neva. the ceremony takes place just outside the winter palace at petrograd. diplomatists and other visitors who wish to look on, stand within at the windows, but i much preferred to be outside, even though it was bitterly cold and we had to be bareheaded. there was a magnificent and bewildering gathering of russian ecclesiastics, gorgeously vested. priceless _ikons_ were carried, and beautiful banners of rich embroideries, the whole effect being strangely eastern in character. a few only could enter the small _kiosk_ on the river's bank where the water, brought in a silver basin, was blessed. but the thrilling thing that day was the glorious singing, chant and refrain, which so richly filled the air, stirring the very depths of one's being, and the innumerable rows of deeply attentive soldiers in their long grey coats, whose frequent bowings and devout crossings all through the ranks showed that, though they were there officially, they were there to worship also. the emperor walked from the palace amongst others and returned to it, bareheaded like any common soldier, with a perfectly plain overcoat like the rest, and nothing whatever to distinguish him from the crowd. he was unattended and moved quite freely with the rest, and could not be recognized except by a few of us standing near the door, who were already familiar with his appearance. there was but little cheering in consequence, though he acknowledged it in that modest and unaffected way which always distinguishes him. it was then that i saw the grand duke nicholas for the first time, the generalissimo in the war, a magnificent man. he had certain announcements to make, or directions to give, and his grand voice rang out on the clear air so that every one could hear. "a real leader of men that," one felt instinctively without dreaming how soon one would have cause to remember the thought, under tragically altered circumstances. we cannot possibly attach too much importance to the fact, admitted on all sides and in the most unexpected quarters, that this great race, coming so very closely into our lives, uniting their destiny in some measure with our own, is above all others a distinctly religious people. russia, as must be ever becoming more and more evident, is to be our ally in a way hitherto entirely unknown to our race and nation. thoughtful observers have seen it coming for some time, and are not taken at all by surprise, but the idea is still new and not altogether welcome to many. there is no doubt at all about it in my own mind, and i shall return to it more fully in a later chapter, that while we shall still remain the friends of france and act the part of true "friends in need" should occasion again arise, and look with a friendly eye upon other nationalities, and even--how much i hope it--make up our quarrel with prussia and the german peoples she has influenced against us, yet with russia our relations are already altogether different, and our two empires are rapidly beginning to realize that they are coming together in an entirely different relationship, to knit up true and enduring ties of brotherly unity with each other, not for selfish purposes at all, but for a great work together for civilization and for god. we anglo-saxons are a deeply religious people at heart, though with our temperamental reticence and reserve we speak least about the things of which we feel the most. the russians are also a sincerely religious people, and they, on the other hand, bring out most readily, spontaneously, and naturally, the things which mean most to them. we are unlike each other in temperament, yet absolutely like each other in our view of the deep things of god. thus complementary to one another, we have a real intelligible hope of a lasting friendship. we should have no hope at all of any such tie between ourselves and them if they did not share our serious view of human life and responsibility, and base that view upon a firm belief in god. we should feel at heart that we had no real confidence in their stability, grit, and powers of staying and lasting out. surely the one thing that has come out during the war is the supreme importance of _morale_. napoleon went so far, i have seen it stated, as to say it counted for an army, in proportion to its numbers, as three to one. i remember too how the military correspondent of the _times_, in one of his most interesting articles on the balkan war, when it was drawing to a close, explained the disastrous defeat of the turkish army by the gradual loss of _morale_ they had sustained by the decay of religion amongst them under the régime of the young turks. prayers had been largely given up by the troops, who no longer had the ministrations of their spiritual leaders, and _morale_ had gone in consequence. then had come disaster. he contrasted with all this the tremendous fervour of the balkan league, and described a picture he had recently seen in a french illustrated paper. two french officers were shown looking at a bulgarian regiment on their knees, their priest praying for them and blessing them before they went into action. "what would one of our generals get," said one of the french officers to his friend, "if he ordered such a thing as that?" "he would get the victory," quietly said the other. i am expecting great things from russia, and for us through russia, for civilization and for god, and what i have written is being ever more and more widely felt by others also, and even expressed in daily papers, where at one time we should not have expected such a thing to be thought of in the midst of a great war. "that russia is one of the most truly religious countries in the world is proved by the crowds which filled and overflowed in all the churches yesterday when thanksgiving services were held in celebration of the victory, _nor is it possible to doubt the sincerity and devotion_ of the worshippers. the firm belief in the divine ruling of the world is to be found among _all classes_."[ ] footnotes: [ ] _the daily mail_ correspondent at petrograd, november , . chapter vi his imperial majesty the tsar one interesting figure has held the attention of the continent of europe for many long years, appealing to the imagination and baffling comprehension, but will never fill the same place again. another, however, is coming forward very possibly in his stead, without any wish or intention of his own, and that other is the emperor of russia. he will do so, i believe, just as the german emperor has done, because history affords him the opportunity, and because, like the kaiser, he too is a man who cherishes thoughts of great purposes for his people and ideals for himself. it affords me the greatest pleasure to write about the emperor--he is not usually spoken of in russian society as the tsar--for i shall always feel most deeply grateful to him for his great personal kindness at my first audience with him, and the great encouragement he gave me at the very beginning of my work abroad. [illustration: _her imperial majesty the tsaritsa._] i have already explained the quaking spirit in which i crossed the frontier. it so happened that russia was the first country i visited when appointed to take charge of the jurisdiction, and, as to so many others, there was something forbidding to me in the very name of russia. i knew at that time also that my visitations would bring me, as they have done, into contact with other sovereigns, and with great personages in other countries, and here at st. petersburg i was to begin with the most unknown and, as one thought of his vast empire, most overwhelming of them all. and then--but let me describe an audience at the palace at tsarskoe selo, for it will probably interest many a reader, and also explain how very different from a somewhat perturbed anticipation was the pleasurable reality. i have taken care to satisfy myself beforehand that i shall not be transgressing any of the rules of court etiquette, nor be guilty of any breach of confidence in so doing. audiences abroad are always arranged through the british embassy or legation. court dress is worn in russia, even though the reception itself is perfectly informal, but, as court dress for a bishop consists in being robed as for easter services, in red chimere, etc., there was no difficulty in providing it even for one who has to carry everything in a couple of bags, and for months at a time. tsarskoe selo--"the tsar's village," the words mean--is a little over half an hour by rail from petrograd, and i was instructed to start from the imperial station in petrograd, and there walked over rich carpets, through saluting soldiers, to the imperial train, most beautifully and comfortably arranged with smoking, writing, and reading compartments. upon arrival at tsarskoe selo imperial carriages are always waiting for those expected, with coachman and footman on the box, wearing bright scarlet cloaks edged with white fur and very smart cocked hats of red and gold. it was a typical russian wintry day with a tremendous blizzard blowing, and blinding snow falling. sentries were stationed at intervals through the streets of the village, saluting all the imperial carriages as they went by, although no occupant could be seen; and having passed through it we entered the park and soon drew up at the door of the small palace where the emperor always resides, and which, white itself, looked that day like a fairy palace rising up amid the snow. nothing could be more strikingly different from that white world without, however, than the warmth and richness of colour within. on every side there were brilliant and unfamiliar liveries and dazzlingly rich uniforms. an official, of huge physique, wearing several medals, with a broad gold band round his head, from which, on its right side, stuck out a curious bunch of dark feathers, in velvet and lace dress, and with breeches and silk stockings--there was no one the least like him in the crowd of attendants--at once came forward and led me away to a dressing-room in which to leave my furs and change into my robes. he then conducted me through one beautiful room after another, each one richly furnished and adorned with beautiful china, paintings, _ikons_, trophies, and presents from different parts of the empire, until at length we reached a small room where a number of officers in brilliant uniforms were seated and evidently in attendance. one of them, the conte de grabbé, at once came forward and welcomed me, chatting pleasantly until a servant, very quietly attired like an english butler, came out from a room opposite and, holding the door open, signified that i was to enter. there was no introduction or announcement of any kind, and, as i entered, the emperor was already standing there to meet me, smiling pleasantly and encouragingly, with extended hand. "it is very kind in your imperial majesty," i said, "to allow me to come and see you in this informal way." "it is very kind in you to come and see us, bishop," he replied, so cheerily and unaffectedly, that away went every bit of diffidence and sense of constraint, and, to my great relief and gratitude, i found myself talking as naturally as to an intimate friend. i say "gratitude" because, being put so entirely at ease, able to say all that it was in my mind to say, and ask anything that it was in my mind to wish to know, enabled me to get a clear idea of the emperor's attractive personality, and even, as he spoke quite freely, of some at least of the opinions and principles which must rule his conduct and shape his policy and government. "he gives you confidence," a diplomatist who had had many official audiences with him said to me one day, and that exactly describes the effect he produces. he talked freely of all things before the public mind just then--of the approaching coronation of king george, for whom he expressed a more than cousinly regard and respect; of domestic duties and family life as the ideals which shape the destinies of races; of the russian church, particularly asking if its dignitaries had welcomed me; of our english church; of travelling; of my own impressions of russia and other things. it was quite astonishing afterwards to recall the ground we had covered in that interview. and before i left he inquired:-- "when will you be coming to russia again, bishop?" "next year, sir," i said; "for i believe i am to go to siberia." "siberia! how interesting! i've never yet been to siberia. then you'll come and tell us all about it when you return, won't you?" "i shall be much honoured, sir." and praying god's blessing upon himself and the imperial family, for which he thanked me as simply and modestly as any other layman would have done, i withdrew, feeling that it had been one of the most helpful and memorable interviews i had ever had. i have been often asked if the emperor is not very much like our king, and it is a somewhat difficult question to answer. as he stood there that morning, in a simple pale blue uniform, well set up and looking extraordinarily young and boyish, and smilingly happy--so entirely different from one's expectations--it did not occur to me to see any such likeness, but an old courtier said to me, in speaking after luncheon of "the resemblance which is so much talked of"-- "there is no resemblance to be noticed when their two majesties are together, nor would there be any striking likeness seen between their portraits in colours, but in photographs or anything that is black and white, just bringing out light and shade, then the similarity is most remarkable, you might easily mistake one for the other." this puts one's own impressions very clearly. there is a well-known photograph, circulated as a postcard in germany, and from a german negative, of which i have a copy, in which the two emperors are shown in conversation on the imperial yacht. any one seeing it in english hands would certainly think that it was our king and the kaiser, and be quite astonished at learning it was not. the emperor received me the first time in a very comfortable but simply furnished study, and the last time, when, in accordance with his invitation, i went to tell him about my two missions to siberia, in his billiard-room fitted up as a study or library, and in which he led me to the kind of window-seat which we know so well in english country houses, looking out upon the park. afterwards luncheon was served for me in the _grand palais_ of the great catherine, a most magnificent and immense palace a little distance away, full of interesting souvenirs of russia's past. [illustration: _his imperial highness the tsarevitch alexei._] it is well known how many and different rumours have been circulated during the last two years about the heir to the throne, and it seems rather a pity that the simple truth has not been announced and made fully known from the first, for i am assured on the best authority in petrograd, that the tsarevitch suffers from a skin affection not unknown, unfortunately, to members of our royal family, which, as he is a very high-spirited boy, difficult to watch and caution, has in moments of exuberance and violent exertion caused him to receive injuries which for a time have been disabling. when last at tsarskoe selo, before taking my leave i took out some puzzles from my pocket, made of wood and steel, quite inexpensive, as i thought it likely they would be most welcome because most unfamiliar, and handing them to the emperor, said:-- "i have brought the tsarevitch a present, sir, and i bring it out with much hesitation, for it is a very simple one, and i know he must have had many beautiful and costly gifts this christmas." "not at all," he said; "we bring him up very simply, and he loves puzzles. he and i used up all we could get, especially those jig-saw puzzles, while he was ill. these, i see, are new." "i hope," i said, "that he is now better?" "yes," he said, "he is; he's quite well now--quite well," he repeated with emphasis. the emperor speaks english perfectly, fluently, and with ease, and i have been told that it is the language most generally, if not always, used in the ordinary daily life of the imperial family. i have taken up some time in giving these personal impressions, but i think it is quite worth while to do so just now as the emperor was so particularly gracious and kind, and thus enabled me to form some idea of what he is, just as a man and a father in his own home; and that i know will appeal to my own countrymen when wondering what is likely to be his policy and aim as a ruler of a vast empire. a man can only _do_ what he _is_, whether he be in the highest or the lowest positions in the world; and he always brings out, sooner or later, what he is at heart. it must therefore be a very great source of confidence to us all just now, when we believe that the providence of god has brought the british and the russian empires together, not for temporary, but for enduring objects, to know, as i feel we may consider that we do know, that the emperor of all the russias is a man we can all respect and trust, precisely as we respect and trust our own sovereign--as one whose ideals are those of domestic duty and family life on the one hand, and the real interests and well-being of the labouring and toiling millions of his people on the other. a somewhat scandalous book was written last year which i won't mention by name, lest curiosity should lead those who have not read it to do so, which gave a most unfavourable impression of the emperor and the imperial family. it was not, however, written by an englishman; and, without questioning in any way the writer's _bona fides_, i am bound to say, and very confidently and energetically, that i have never yet met one of my own countrymen who has had to do with the emperor of russia, financially, diplomatically, or in audience, who has not expressed himself to me about him in the same appreciative terms as i have here used myself. take, for instance, what sir donald mackenzie wallace has written only a few months ago.[ ] "the antiquated idea that tsars are always heartless tyrants who devote much of their time in sending troublesome subjects to siberia, is now happily pretty well exploded, but the average englishman is still reluctant to admit that an avowedly autocratic government may be, in certain circumstances, a useful institution. there is no doubt, however, that in the gigantic work of raising russia to her present level of civilization, the tsars have played a most important part. as for the present tsar, he has followed, in a humane spirit, the best traditions of his ancestors. any one who has had opportunities of studying closely his character and aims, and who knows the difficulties with which he has had to contend, can hardly fail to regard him with sympathy and admiration. among the qualities which would commend him to englishmen are his scrupulous honesty and genuine truthfulness. of these--were i not restrained by fear of committing a breach of confidence--i might give some interesting illustrations. "as a ruler, nicholas ii habitually takes a keen, sympathetic interest in the material and moral progress of his country; and is ever ready to listen attentively and patiently to those who are presumably competent to offer sound advice on the subject. at the same time he is very prudent in action; and this happy combination of zeal and caution, which distinguishes him from his too impetuous countrymen, has been signally displayed in recent years. during the revolutionary agitation which followed close on the disastrous japanese war, when the impetuous would-be reformers wished to overturn the whole existing fabric of administration, and the timid counsellors recommended vigorous retrograde measures, he wisely steered a middle course, which has resulted in the creation of a moderate form of parliamentary institutions." i am not alone, therefore, in the very favourable impression i have formed of the russian emperor as a man whom the best of my own countrymen may respect as one like-minded with themselves in his views of life and conduct, and his own countrymen thoroughly trust as a constitutional ruler who, though determined, as he will be advised by his most trusted counsellors, to go cautiously, yet is convinced that a good government's one and chief concern is the well-being of those who are governed, and especially of those who form the lowest class in its social scale. like sir donald wallace, i too could give instances of the emperor's straightforward and generous action which show the essential right-mindedness of his nature in a very striking way, if it were possible to do so without breach of confidence. especially was this the case in a particular instance of which i know, when it was a question of putting his own interests, and even dignity, in a very secondary position. it was one, indeed, in which no great ruler could be expected or asked to do so, but when he learnt himself what was involved he at once did so subordinate his own interests, and has earned in consequence the lasting gratitude of all concerned, and their entire and loyal confidence. the russian people are intensely loyal, and, as the overwhelming majority are of the peasant class, their loyalty is of that simple, fervid, and trusting character which is seen in their family and village life. they do not speak of the "emperor" so much as of "the little father," and that is how they feel towards him. he is the father of his people and they are his children. if there is anything they object to in legislation it is always put down to officialdom, just as our own colonies, before the days when they began to "think imperially," used to vent all their displeasure upon "downing street" when unwelcome legislation took place, and never upon queen victoria (or her government), for whom they had the greatest respect and affection. the russian peasant too murmurs loudly at times against the governors and their subordinates when he is requested to do something that he does not like, but with a solacing reflection to himself that "the little father would put everything right if he only knew." there is disaffection and serious disloyalty in other quarters, and i shall try my best to describe it and what may very possibly be some of its causes, in my chapter on "russia's problem," but the dangerous disaffection, probably already beginning to pass away, is confined to a few of the largest towns, and does not in any way affect the overwhelming majority of the emperor's subjects, who are entirely devoted to him and patriotically loyal. this ought to be remembered also when we are thinking over future relations between our own people and theirs. the russians are not a downtrodden and oppressed people struggling to throw off the yoke of a harsh and despotic rule, but are contented, loyal, and law-abiding. they do not, however, show their loyalty by any outward expressions such as the "all highest," and others with which we have been made familiar in the addresses and letters of germans of high rank, office, and birth, during the war. no such terms exist or are thought of amongst the subjects of the emperor of russia. the word tsar occurs, i believe, in the national anthem, and tsaritsa is used occasionally, while there is no such word as tsarina in the language. but neither tsar, emperor, tsaritsa, or empress are used, i am told, amongst the ordinary people. they speak of "_gosudar_" and "_gosudarina_" which mean lord and lady, or sir and madame, and in such general use are these terms, i believe, that a man writing a business letter to a tradesman would begin "gracious gosudar." the tsarevitch alexis is spoken of amongst the people by a word in perfectly common use, which is no more than the ordinary word for "heir." loyalty and great respect, it would seem, are quite consistent with great familiarity of thought and expression. the emperor is probably spoken of more frequently as nicolai alexandrovitch--"nicholas, son of alexander"--than by any other title, and i feel sure that the grand duke nicholas, commander-in-chief, and his doings at head-quarters, have been spoken of all over russian plains and siberian steppes this winter as familiarly and as proudly as of some one who had gone from their own village. "ah! nicolai nicolaievitch! what a man he is! how well he has fought this war! how proud we are of him!" etc., etc. i was told lately of a touching incident which occurred at a great service in russia (the translation of the remains of a great saint) at which the grand duchess serge was present, and, when she arrived, had gone quietly up to a gallery pew, arranged for her and other great ladies. soon afterwards an old peasant woman, to whom she had once shown a kindness, arrived, and at once began to inquire:-- "has elizabeth come yet?"--the grand duchess's christian name--"i want elizabeth. she told me when next i came where she was to be sure and ask for her. where's elizabeth?" the grand duchess in her exalted gallery caught something of what was going on, and, hearing her own name, at once came down. "here i am, little mother!" and then with "dear elizabeth!" the old woman threw her arms about her neck and began her story. such a thing is only possible in russia, and yet it is the one country in the world where we have always been led to think that between the highest and the lowest there is that "great gulf fixed," which if not bridged over in this life by sympathy and love, has little hope of being passed in the world to come. rank and position and high office if worthily filled need no buttressing up. least of all need those who hold them give themselves airs. their office is enough in itself; and last year, when i had a large party of german youths to take about london, and by the kindness of those concerned took them to see one or two great places where they were most courteously and graciously received--they were the sons of working men in frankfurt--i was more than pleased to hear one of them say to his friend, "i notice that in england the higher the rank the less the pretence." so it is in russia. the more exalted the position the more unaffected and simple the one who fills it! the grand duchess elizabeth, daughter of our own princess alice, is probably the best known and the best loved woman in all moscow, indeed in all russia, and hereafter will, in all probability, have "saint" prefixed to her name. many do not hesitate to use it even now. her sad experiences appealed most powerfully to the people's sympathies when she was so tragically widowed a few years ago. her husband, the grand duke serge, governor of moscow, had become extremely unpopular with certain classes, and it was well known that his life was in danger; but he knew no fear, and drove out constantly in an open carriage in which the grand duchess insisted upon accompanying him. it is said that at length a letter was written to him advising him to leave her behind if he valued her life, and adding significantly, "we have no quarrel with her, nor anything against her." she was, therefore, from that time left at home, his secretary asking to be allowed to go in her place. again the same kind of letter was received, and he too was left behind; and the grand duke, who was no coward, determined to go alone. and then, on the first morning he did so, and not far from his own door, the fatal bomb was thrown, and did its work so effectually that there was nothing left to be seen! he was literally "blown to atoms." every one in moscow is said to have heard the terrific explosion, and knew at once. "they have him at last!" the grand duchess heard also and rushed immediately to the scene. it may be questioned whether any other woman has ever had such an ordeal as that to face! she had just seen her husband drive away from his home, and in a few moments there was nothing left! i believe a finger with his signet ring was subsequently found, but that was all. moscow, which had always respected and admired her, at once gave her whole-hearted sympathy, which soon became a deep and true affection as they learnt that she had determined to give her whole life and income to their poor. she founded the first order which has been introduced into russia for women's work amongst the sick and poor. when i was last in moscow, she explained to me its character, and it seemed to me to be a blend of the tertiaries of s. francis and the deaconesses of the primitive church, though the latter is the model she has wished to follow. she told me she had ninety-six sisters in the order now, and that whilst some sick were brought into their own wards many were visited in their own homes. it is this visiting work that she hopes most to develop as time goes on. she is, of course, by baptism and confirmation a member of our own church, and is full of interest and sympathy towards it, and usually attends the abbey service when in london, though she joined the orthodox church of russia during her married life. this, she told me, was without any influence being brought to bear upon her, and entirely from conviction that it was best for her own religious life in her adopted country. she wore the simple and grey habit of her order, and it was difficult to realize that she was a princess of the blood, and sister-in-law to the emperor himself, as she spoke so simply and humbly about her work, and what she hoped still with the blessing of god to do. she does not cut herself off, however, from life's ordinary relationships, for when later at tsarskoe selo, i told the emperor that i had been able to see her and hear about her work, he said, "she is coming to spend a fortnight with us this very afternoon." that is what one meets everywhere in russia, the unconventional and the natural. the superior of a new order, which is an entirely fresh departure, would be expected in any other country to give up everything else in the way of social and family relationships. but in russia, if a perfectly natural thing like a visit to near relations suggests itself as desirable the visit is duly paid. it is so always! the splendid and the simple, high rank and humble birth seem to find themselves close together, the rich and the poor unite so easily in a common interest. "a gorgeous imperial procession was passing through the palace hall," writes one who saw it at tsarskoe selo as a specially grand function, "and two or three maid-servants appeared at the head of a little staircase to look on, wearing print dresses. no one told them to go away."[ ] no one would think of it. the emperor loves the simple folk he governs, and showed it plainly when in the earlier part of his reign he moved freely amongst them, standing next to peasants and workmen in moscow, when he stepped into a church to pray. and after he returned from our own country, from the marriage of king george, i read the other day, "somebody asked him what had impressed him most. 'the crowd outside buckingham palace waiting to see queen victoria drive out,' he said. 'there they waited, hour after hour, and at last a little black carriage came out of the palace-gates. very few of the people in the crowd could see the queen, but they knew that she was there, and they went away satisfied. one day it will be like that in russia.'" and the writer adds: "i do not think the emperor's prophecy is likely to be realized in his lifetime; but a day will come when his subjects will forget the mistakes that have been made in his name, and recognize that they owe to him great reforms." i fancy in subsequent editions, for his book well deserves to have them, he will alter those words into "i feel sure that he will live to see it, and not have long to wait." [illustration: _her imperial highness the grand duchess elizabeth--the friend of the poor._] footnotes: [ ] _our new ally._ [ ] rothay reynolds, _my russian year_. chapter vii a paternal government two years ago, when i was in conversation with one of our leading diplomatists, who has a very intimate knowledge of the russian people, their emperor and governing classes, i asked him, "do you not think that the russian government is the most paternal in its aim and character of all the governments in europe?" "of course i do," he replied; and rather excitedly added, "but when i even hint at such a view of russian methods to our own countrymen here at home they regard me as if i had taken leave of my senses, and look at me with an incredulous and pitying eye." it is no wonder that this should be so when our own people still, for the most part, look upon russia as the land of the knout and banishment, with an oppressive and despotic government which on the least suspicion seizes upon unoffending victims and consigns them to siberia and the mines, where, chained together, they drag out their lingering existence in unfamiliar and degrading toil. no words are wasted, it is believed, upon the weak and ineffective, but the lash comes stingingly down upon their shoulders. harsh legislation is the rule, it is thought, and if perchance people rise up in masses against it, as they do from time to time, the dreaded cossack sweeps through the streets, and, at terrible cost to human life, clears them. again and again i find this is the prevailing idea of russia, as i am asked if i am not afraid to travel there; and something like it, i have candidly admitted, was my own impression before i went there and saw things for myself. but nothing could be more unlike the actual reality. the relations of the governing and governed in russia are really paternal on the one hand and filial on the other, and i hope that i may be able to induce my readers to believe that is true of the greater part of the whole population. in the first place, the knout is long since gone. no such thing exists now, except as a curiosity, in the whole of russia, nor has it been used officially since the days of the present emperor's _great grandfather_! next there are the convicts. it is now twenty-five years since mr. harry de windt, the well-known traveller, disproved the lurid accounts which had been given a short time before of the horrors of siberian prisons. in his book of he says, "i have always maintained that were i sentenced to a term of penal servitude i would infinitely prefer to serve it in (some parts of) siberia than in england." when he puts these words in brackets he is thinking, of course, of the severity of climate and distance from frequented routes, and not of the treatment of the prisoners. he tells at length--space does not permit me to quote freely as i would like to do--how even criminal convicts are well cared for; and that even the murderers and murderesses amongst them, for there is no capital punishment in russia, are lodged in wards which are clean and well warmed; that there is a comfortable infirmary connected with a prison, and even a home close at hand, supported by private subscription, for children of the prisoners. mr. foster fraser also, in his book on _the real siberia_--perhaps one of the best known of modern works on that part of the empire--tells us that having been more "thrilled" as a boy by what he had read about siberian prisons than by red indian stories, and knowing that people, the world over, were in the habit of saying, "only russia could be so cruel, a civilized country would shrink from such barbarities," determined to go and see for himself, and, as is usual with those who go to russia full of prejudice and dread, the scales fell from his eyes when he visited irkutsk prison. he found to his surprise that, "it was not the gloomy, sullen-stoned, slit-windowed, iron-barred structure such as are our prisons at home"; and he describes at length a system which will compare favourably with any other prisons in the world, as to discipline, but surpasses them all in friendliness and freedom from constraint. "what attracted me was the informal relationship between governor and prisoners. the men talked without any restraint, made requests and even jests." but the climax of his experiences of "siberian horrors" came when he asked to see the women prisoners, and was taken to the "best house in the place," where, on going into the yard, he saw some women "sitting about, and some children playing with a kitten." "i'll send for the matron," said the governor. "is this the prison?" i asked in some amazement. "yes--this is the only prison we have in irkutsk for women." "it was just a large-sized ordinary house," he goes on, "abutting on the street, but not a single soldier to see. i couldn't help laughing," he adds, for the women, who numbered about forty, and had twenty children with them, represented offences which ranged from petty theft up to murder, the five or six murderesses being much the same as the others in appearance and character as far as could be seen. mr. fraser felt it was absurd to call such a place a prison, and asked:-- "do you really mean to say that these women don't go away?" and then his amazement was complete when he was told that one had surprised them very much, a little while before, by going off, but had surprised them even more by coming back after a day or two and telling them that she had wanted to see a man she was rather fond of and have a week-end with him, as men visitors were not allowed on sundays, the visiting day! it will be conceded, i think, by my most prejudiced reader, that russia does not seem to be unduly harsh in her dealings with even her worst type of criminals! next let me speak of "politicals," as we may call them. it is nearly two years ago since a meeting was organized in london to protest in the name of civilization--very strong language indeed was used in the preliminary circular--against russia's treatment of her political prisoners; and one who holds very high office in london, and whom it was specially desired to have present, did me the honour of asking my advice about attending it, as i had just returned from siberia. i replied at once, and pointed out how very difficult and delicate the work of embassies and legations is made when such meetings of protest are held in the countries they represent, and that we should deeply resent meetings of a similar kind being held in other countries with respect to methods of our own. we are open to criticism ourselves at times, every one will admit! i gave it as my opinion also that the statements of the circular were greatly exaggerated. wishing later to be assured that this was so, i questioned a russian of high rank in diplomacy, who at once said:-- "suppose you go and see for yourself the next time you are in siberia. visit any mines you wish, or prisons either, and the russian government shall afford you all facilities." [illustration: _characteristic group of russians._] this i am hoping to do this very year, if all's well, and so, though i have seen convicts for myself in siberia, yet what i have to say here now is not at first hand, but still it will be on the best authority in every case, and when i can i will give names. it was quite a revelation to me as i listened, on my first visit to russia, to the statements i heard on all sides whenever banishment to siberia was mentioned. "but surely you know what that means? no? well, for ordinary political offenders who are either suspect or actually giving offence, and making government difficult, all that it means is that they have to go and live in siberia, where their wives and families follow them. their property is not seized nor income forfeited. it can all be realized, and so they can live as comfortably there as in russia. there are people indeed who prefer to live in siberia after they have gone there. after a few years or so, if they like to escape they can do so, and no one interferes. they can live where they please, but they must not return to russia." that did not seem a very hard fate, nor can it be said to be a very undeserved one, for every one must feel that the government of a country so vast is beset with difficulties and must, in the present state of its population, be firm, and not hesitate at strong measures against those plotting against it. i know myself, in a recent case too, which caused much excitement in this country, warning after warning was given to enable the offender to leave the country before arrest took place, and even after the sentence unexpected indulgence and clemency were shown. let me now quote straight from mr. foster fraser's book, written by one who tells us frankly that he "went to siberia with the average britisher's prejudice against things russian, but with eyes open," and determined to see things for himself. "the political prisoners are given the best part of the country to live in, namely, in the west. other prisoners are exiled nearer to the icy regions according to the gravity of their offence. the political prisoners may practise handicrafts, and, by special permission, medicine. a 'political' is not identified with the criminal any more than a debtor is identified with a felon in england. such offenders do not travel with other prisoners in a gang. a 'political' may be on a train going into exile; but no one knows it besides himself and the members of the police travelling in the same carriage. politicals get about £ . _s._ a month from the government, but this varies according to the district to which they are sent. wives who accompany their husbands are allowed lb. of bread a month, but must submit to the regulations of the _étape_. if all goes well with a 'political' he gets permission to settle in some siberian town with his family, but any allowance from the government then ceases. he is just the same as any other resident, save that he can never leave siberia. if he wishes to farm, the government will give him a plot of land and money to work it. but this money must be paid back by instalments." he states, as will be seen, "he can never leave siberia," but what, i fancy, was really meant by his informant was "never return to russia." we can hardly think, in a land where the executive is so indulgent as to allow a dangerous criminal to "week-end" with a friend, that they will be less considerate to a political of good character wishing to go to a better climate and letting it be understood that russia would not be the place selected. there is the human touch about everything in that country of spacious and large ideas, and it is not lacking either in the treatment of political offenders or with other criminals and felons also. mr. harry de windt is not only explicit but even amusing and entertaining as he tells us what he found at yakutsk, which is quite remote enough from civilization, on the great lena post road, to make one feel that the lot of the banished there must be sad indeed; but at the same time we can enter a little, perhaps, into his feelings of amazement when he found that "the political exiles there seemed to be no worse off, socially, than any one else, for they moved about in society and were constantly favoured guests of the chief of police. the exiles, however, were not permitted to take part in the private theatricals i have mentioned, a restriction which caused them great annoyance. their loud and unfavourable criticisms from the stalls on the evening in question were certainly not in the best of taste, and, to my surprise, they were not resented by the governor's staff." this incident will show that, in yakutsk at any rate, the "politicals" are treated not only with leniency but with a friendly courtesy, which on this occasion was certainly abused. mr. olenin, an exile whose term of banishment was expiring, told me that he had no fault whatever to find with yakutsk as a place of exile, so much so that he had resolved not to return to russia at the end of his sentence, but to remain here and complete an ethnological work upon which he was engaged. i don't think that "harshness and barbarity" are words that can be appropriately used for a discipline that permits attendances at "private theatricals" where politicals are so much at ease that they indulge in loud and unfavourable criticisms in the presence of the governor's staff, and go out as favoured guests to dinner parties given by the chief of the police! a few months ago, however, i had my last and great surprise as to russia, in learning--what strangely enough is not yet known to many russians of experience and official rank--that convict labour in mines is entirely abandoned now, and has been for some years! it was found to be both unprofitable and impracticable as modern ideas of mining advanced. it was clearly a great waste of time to march gangs to the "pit's mouth," as they call it in our own mining districts, and remove their chains before sending them down, putting them on when they came up again. then no blasting is now done without dynamite; and that, clearly, was a dangerous substance to hand over to criminals. again, they are of all classes, and but few could ever have worked in mines before, and not having either technical knowledge or experience, their work would be unprofitable. convict labour below ground has been given up for some time in consequence. prisoners now, when sent out to siberia, are only required to work above ground, though they may go into the mines if they choose, and have fitness for the work, and can be trusted. they are all allowed and encouraged to hire themselves out, receiving the market price for their work, and so being able to obtain little comforts for themselves. as far as i have been able to consider the experiences of reliable authorities, i feel convinced that when able to see for myself i too shall say i would far rather serve a term of imprisonment with hard labour amongst the convicts of siberia than in dartmoor or portland. there is far more of the human touch in the former, and a man does not suffer in his manhood in the same way there as he does in the english, french, belgian, and central american prisons i have known. how, then, are we to account for all the well-known stories of miseries and sufferings associated with that lone, and in winter very terrible land? most of us read in our youthful days _elizabeth, or the exiles of siberia_, and since then have always spoken of "the siberian mines," and "banishment" with bated breath! how have such impressions so gained ground that the very name of russia has taken us straightway out of europe into asia to thoughts of the severest and most hopeless criminal punishments in the world? i should say that the explanation is to be found, very possibly, in the methods used before arrest. what is called "administrative procedure" has long been the usual way of dealing with suspected political offenders. a man or woman is arrested, and without public trial is removed to siberia, and there required to live under police supervision. arrests are made at any time. "a man may be seated quietly at home with his family, in his office, or at some place of public entertainment, when a touch upon his shoulder summons him away." there are no press reports of his trial or examination, which is conducted in private, nor any appeal from it, and there have been, and perhaps are still, cases where a suspected offender's family remain in ignorance of what has happened to him, or where he is. the thought of such a disappearance from the midst of family and friends is enough to chill any heart, and even if russia does consider it necessary to deal thus summarily with those who are enemies of social order and the well-being of the state, without being unduly harsh in her treatment of them when they are exiled, one may very well hope that what have been called the "underground methods" of her police may soon be entirely laid aside. it is still consistent, i submit, with the aim of a paternal government to remove at once, and with no uncertain or hesitating hand, those who are considered the most dangerous elements in its social life, and the enemies of its stability and well-being. it was in siberia, however, that i learnt the positive side of russia's care for her peasant and working population. there i found, as soon as i looked into the working of a great company, that it was necessary to have a russian engineer, in addition to the one employed by the staff, who is held responsible by the governor of the district for the inspection of all machinery and the arrangements made for securing those employed from unnecessary risk and danger. a police officer of a superior class is attached to the staff also, not only to maintain order, but to receive any complaints and transmit them if serious to higher authorities. the government distinctly interferes in order to guard the interests of its working class, and though sometimes the presence of another engineer or the police official may seem irksome, our countrymen recognize loyally that the government have no wish to be vexatious, but only to fulfil their duty to their own people. then next i found, also in siberia, how extraordinarily kind and helpful all officials are to colonists, who are not always easy to deal with when travelling or settling down in a new country. they take things for granted and expect much, and yet are never disappointed; officials of every class, and especially on railways, being unfailing in patience, tact, good-nature, and good-humour. the working folk on a train, in their third or fourth classes, are always treated with indulgence and kindly consideration. [illustration: _a group of russian peasants._] i read the following in the _statist_ last year, finding later that it was contributed by a friend of mine:-- "government emigration offices are situated all over russia in europe. these supply would-be settlers in siberia with information as to water supply, timber, fuel, distances from market, etc. intending settlers choose some of their number, at the expense of the government, to inspect the different tracts of land parcelled out for settlement, and select areas considered suitable for the settlers. this may take a whole year, and the deputed settlers return and report to their fellows. a petition is then sent in to the government--say that men want to go to such and such a place. then the government marks on the map that this land has been apportioned to the applicants, and it is set aside for them accordingly. the land is given free up to acres per head. each man thus has his own land. he cannot sell it, and it cannot be mortgaged either, though he get into debt. the land is his as long as he cares to work it. for special purposes, horse and cattle breeding, the government now permits larger areas up to , acres to be acquired, and helps settlers in this connection by providing, for breeding purposes, thoroughbred stallions and jersey bulls. the government send the settlers down passage free, and as the people are simply peasants, doctors and nurses are provided to look after them and treat them for sickness, etc. further, the settlers are given in certain cases a sum up to £ to reach their destination. they are allowed, carriage free, to take one cow, implements, and other goods for their purposes. the government gives them free timber for house building, though the settlers have to cut it themselves. should the settlers be short of money or funds for buying horses, ploughs, etc., they can get a credit through the land bank up to £ , which they have to pay back in instalments spread over a long period." does not a government which thus develops its country and moves its working population in vast numbers from places where they are not doing well to other places where they may do better well deserve to be called "fatherly" in its care for their interests? it is well known to those who have been watching russia's progress that she has of late, and especially last year, been drawing upon her enormous revenues and taking advantage of her unexampled prosperity, as one of the best-informed journalists in europe[ ] has stated, "for public works, railways, and canals, factories, schools, post offices, model farms and reform measures for the improvement of the lot of the working man." it was in the interests of her working poor that one of the most costly and far-reaching experiments ever undertaken by a government, at great financial sacrifice to itself, was launched just before war was declared--the legislation concerning _vodka_. it surely is an inspiring thought that we and our new friend may tread the path of social reform together just when it has become alike the need and opportunity of our time! there is nothing so certain than that it is along this path that our two sovereigns will gladly lead us. we in our country have never before had king and queen visiting the manufacturing districts of their realm, acquainting themselves with every detail of daily work, going simply and naturally into homes, and sharing the humble fare of the working classes. we have never had a king before--without reflecting upon any who have preceded him we may say it--who has gone amongst his soldiers and sailors, as one of themselves, crossing over to the front that he might see how they did, and show them that he was determined to know for himself the conditions under which they were so nobly doing their duty, so that they should not only have his leadership but all the sympathy he could give them. it has been just the same in russia. there, at last, has come the great departure from precedent and tradition for which the emperor has always longed and felt to be possible since he came to london and said, "some day it will be like that in russia!" the "some day" has come at last. one felt it when he went into the duma last year at the outbreak of the war, and, on his own initiative alone, addressed its members informally on the task of serving their country together. other things have followed in quick succession! the empress and her daughters became nurses at once as soon as the wounded soldiers began to be brought in. they wore the uniform, and were addressed as sister olga or sister tatiana like every one else, although the russian court has been held to be the most exacting and punctilious court in europe. again and again the emperor has been to the front, endearing himself to his soldiers, to whom it is known that he equipped himself in a common soldier's uniform, before he passed it, with kit, rifle, and boots complete, and tramped miles across the country that he might know what it was like to be on the march. does it make no difference to ivan ivanoff to say to himself on the march when he thinks of his emperor, "he knows what it's like, for he's done it himself? somewhere he's thinking about his soldiers, and he _knows_." he was photographed in their uniform, just as one of themselves, and the photograph was distributed amongst the troops. "god save the tsar!" is the one clamorous cry of the streets in russia to-day, we are told. the emperor and empress show themselves in a balcony in petrograd as naturally as king george and queen mary show themselves at buckingham palace when the crowd ask for them. such a thing has never been seen, or even thought of, before in russia. the last time the emperor came up from the crimea to the capital, there were soldiers within speaking distance of each other along the entire length of rail, keeping watch and guard. soon he will go about unattended, and without escort; and as it was with queen victoria, so "it will be like that in russia." again, i want to dwell upon this link between us, and its tremendous promise for the future. the two greatest rulers in the world, closely and affectionately related, have the same ideals of what rulers should be, and want nothing better than to lead and serve their people; and god, in his providence, has given them at the same time both the power and opportunity for doing this splendid work together. never, probably, has the monarchical principle, in its best aspect, been so intelligently accepted in both empires as now. a near relation of the emperor's, though much his senior, was telling me once of a recent visit he had paid to england, and of some of his experiences in the east end, where, under the guidance of a detective, he had visited some of the worst haunts. "and do you know, bishop?" he said, "i learnt from that detective that everybody in london showed their respect for king edward, at his death, by going into mourning; and the very thieves _stole_ black to mourn him with the rest! there's the monarchical principle, going down even to the lowest classes in the nation!" "but, sir," i ventured, "i don't think that men of that class would be thinking of him as a ruler, but as a sportsman." "no! no!" he maintained. "it was the monarchical principle going down to the very lowest of the people!" and i am sure he thinks so, and tells the story to enforce it. there can be no doubt that the monarchical principle, as we understand it, makes rapid progress in russia. the emperor has always been an autocrat, but his worst enemy could not accuse him of ever having been merely despotic; and surely, though gradually, he will be less and less an autocrat, and more and more constitutional in his rule. he meets the needs and satisfies the ideals of his people, as he embodies in his person government and rule. if any one thinks that russia has a seething revolutionary spirit longing for expression and an outlet, i can't help feeling that they are utterly and entirely mistaken. serious discontent and unrest prevail; but, as i will try and show later, it is directed against the social order rather than against the emperor himself. plots to kill him have been plots to overturn the social order, and nothing more. even political exiles in siberia never blame him for their condition, as mr. de windt tells us: "i never once heard members of the imperial family spoken of with the slightest animosity or disrespect; and once when the emperor was mentioned one of the exiles burst out with a bitter laugh-- "'the emperor! you may be quite sure the emperor does not know what goes on, or we should not be here a day longer.'" the people are wholly loyal, and regard their ruler as embodying a government which is in their own interests as being his children. there can be no doubt that this is the feeling throughout the empire, however difficult it may be for some classes in our community to believe it. for instance, as it has been pointed out,[ ] "when not long ago in the house of commons it was debated whether or no the king should pay a visit to the emperor of russia, and some one suggested that were the visit to be cancelled the immense majority of the russian people would regard it as an insult, and that the russian peasants bore no ill-will towards the emperor, but rather complained of the results of a system of government which in the last few years has undergone, and is still undergoing, radical change." when such arguments were brought forward some of the labour members nearly burst with ironical cheers. here, they thought, was the voice of officialdom, torydom, and hypocrisy speaking. now turn to the facts. when professor kovolievski was elected a member of the first duma in the government of karkov as an advanced liberal member, he, after his election, asked some of his peasant electors whether he was not right in supposing that had he said anything offensive with regard to the emperor at his meetings there would have been no applause. "'we should not only have not applauded,' was the answer, 'but we should have beaten you to death.'" there is nothing of the merely sentimental in this feeling that their government is, and ought to be, paternal in its character. every russian peasant drinks it in from the first, for he gets his training in the _mir_ of his native village. it is there he learns what family and social rule really mean, and they are identical. his home is ruled by his father, the village by the elder; and everything is as constitutional and as democratic as it can be, or is anywhere else in the world. the children have their rights, but look up to and obey their father. they are free and responsible in village life, but yield to their elders. it is natural, therefore, and no other view is even possible, for men brought up in such surroundings to look outside the village and regard the state as a whole in the same way. there too they feel that they have full rights, and yet are under a firm, unquestioned, and paternal rule--the rule of him who, while rightly called their emperor, yet is better known to themselves and loyally loved as their "little father." footnotes: [ ] dr. e. j. dillon. [ ] the hon. maurice baring. chapter viii the steppes amongst all the interesting experiences of an unusually varied and adventurous life, since, in the very middle of my oxford course i had, for health's sake, to spend a couple of years ranching in the river plate, my long drives across the steppes stand out in bold and pleasing relief. they were necessitated by a mining camp mission in siberia, for the steppes form a large part of the eastern portion of the russian empire, and do not belong to russia proper at all, lying beyond the volga and the urals. it is in that part of asiatic russia that the development of the empire's vast resources is taking place with special rapidity, and our own countrymen are bearing a hand in it and playing no unworthy part. i believe the word "steppes" is given to that undulating but level country in the provinces of ufa and orenburg, about two days' and two nights' journey by train east of moscow, inhabited by the bashkirs, the descendants of those tartar hordes who nearly overwhelmed russia at one time, and possibly europe itself, and were called for their relentless cruelty "the scourge of god." [illustration: _consecration of burial ground in the siberian steppes._ (see page .)] they are a fierce-looking race, even now, though peaceable enough, and it seems strange to find them so near to moscow still, and to see them at their devotions when driving past their mosques on a friday. they are great agriculturists, and a delightful sight is presented by their vast tracts of tender green wheat and oats shooting up as soon as the winter is over, and even while, in out-of-the-way hollows, snow still remains. the earth is black and very rich in character, and the seed, sown often before the end of september, lies nearly seven months under the protecting and fertilizing snow. as soon as this has gone and spring comes, the young crops shoot up with amazing speed and strength. late frosts are terrible disasters, of course, under such circumstances. but the _real_ steppes, which resemble the veldt of africa, or the pampas of south, and the prairie of north america, are those vast level plains, partly agricultural, partly pasture, and partly scrub and sand, which lie another day and night still further east, and extend for thousands of miles to the south till they reach nearly to the borders of turkestan. these are the steppes i know best. there is also a pastoral steppe of large extent and of agricultural character just above the black sea. if the reader will refer to the map he will see what a huge portion even of the great country of siberia is taken up by the kirghiz steppes, and as they are extraordinarily rich in minerals, so far as one can judge from enterprises already successfully started, produce large crops, and sustain innumerable flocks and herds, it will be seen how much they are likely to count for in the progress of russia. the kirghiz, familiarly called the "ks" in the mining camps, are a tartar race, like the bashkirs, and, like them also in religion, are mohammedans; but while i saw mosques amongst the bashkirs filled with praying congregations, i never saw either mosque or prayers amongst the kirghiz, nor their women veiled. they are small in stature, very strongly built, rather like the japanese, and splendid horsemen. a kirghiz when mounted seems part of his horse as he dashes across the steppes at full speed with the merest apology for reins and bit, ready to pull up in the twinkling of an eye. they struck me always as very friendly, though i have read that others have not found them so. that they are very hospitable every one admits. a traveller, it is said, can go thousands of miles across the steppes without a rouble in his pocket, and want for nothing. everywhere he will be hospitably entertained. a russian, of course, asks nothing better than to have a guest, and considers himself honoured in being asked to take him in for a meal or for the night; and the kirghiz are eastern in their reception of guests as well. in the steppes governments of ufa, orenburg, and akmolinsk the population must be nearly seven millions, of which the great majority are the nomadic kirghiz, living in tents in the summer, and taking their flocks and herds away to the south and into villages, where they can have roofs and walls during the seven months--at least!--of terrible winter. the tent is a most comfortable abode, though not much to look at from outside. it has a wooden floor, with a rug or skins upon it, is circular in its area, but has no pole of any kind, being built up very neatly and ingeniously upon a framework of canes and laths until it is in shape like a well-spread-out low and evenly-rounded haystack. it has a movable top in its centre, which affords ample ventilation. inside it is lined with felt, which has often prettily embroidered draperies fastened upon it; and outside the canework it is well covered over with stout canvas securely lashed into its place. it will be seen that no obstacle is presented to the strong winds which continually blow over the steppes, as there are no "corners" such as are spoken of in job i. , which shows us that tents were raised upon four poles in early israelitish days as they are still amongst the bedouin tribes of north africa and arabia. the beautifully and symmetrically rounded _uerta_, as the kirghiz tent is called, receives every wind that sweeps over it, and never makes the slightest movement. at least twenty people could be, and often are, gathered inside when some festivity is afoot, though each family as a rule has its own tent. they are extremely attractive, and when i once went to see an american family, engaged in preliminary mining work, i found them with one of these tents for their living-room, set up with sideboard, dining-table, easy-chairs, etc., and another opposite to it fitted up as a most comfortable bedroom with brass beds and all the usual furniture, the little cookhouse also being not far away. breathing in the marvellous air of the steppes, i thought i had never seen the "simple life" presented in a more alluring form. i have longed, indeed, ever since to have a month of it some time, and get as close to mother nature as it is possible to do in these busy days. [illustration: _outside a kirghiz uerta._] the descendants of jonadab knew what they were about, and what was good for them, when they determined to keep to their pastoral life, and hold on to all their tent-dwelling traditions; and as for wine, no one need ever feel the need of such a stimulant in the invigorating air of those great plains. amongst the kirghiz one feels an extraordinarily biblical atmosphere, and is back again in the days of abraham and the patriarchs, and the "women in the tent," of whom jael sang after the great victory. the men are attired much as isaac and ishmael, and jacob and esau were, and the women very probably keep the traditions of thousands of years in wearing their pretty nun-like head-dresses of white, which leave their pleasant faces free and uncovered. these kirghiz hardly ever use money. they grow "rich in many flocks and herds," and if they sold would immediately buy again. some of them, however, are very well off, and i was told that one, who lived simply with his wife in a _uerta_ on the steppes, had sent his only son to complete his education in paris, and get a medical degree at its university. for this he would have to sell off some of the increase of his flock, and send the proceeds to his son. let me now explain how i came to be amongst these tent-dwelling folk at all. during my first visit to petrograd i was asked one evening by a member of the russia company if i could appoint a chaplain to go out to siberia once a year or so, and visit the scattered little groups of our own countrymen who are there, but, at that time, had never seen a clergyman nor had a service since coming into the country. "there are unbaptized," he said, "and unconfirmed, and even those who need to be married with the service of their church, who through no fault of their own, but through circumstances, have had to go without it. there are people who have been in siberia all their lives, and some who have been there forty and fifty years, and never once had any ministration of their church. can nothing be done?" this, of course, was a strong and direct appeal, and, after considering for a short time, it seemed impossible to appoint a chaplain for work of which one knew nothing, and so i proposed to go myself, which i found later was what it was hoped and expected that i should do. accordingly in and again in i carried out this intention, and found that it practically took the form of a mining camp mission; for, though i visited one or two other british communities, yet the most interesting part of both years' experiences was in going to the mines situated, except in one case, in the very heart of the steppes. each, though employing thousands of kirghiz and russians, is managed by a british staff of between twenty and thirty, and is the property of a british company with its board of directors meeting in its offices in london. i will describe two of these journeys, for without knowing something of the steppes and of those who live there, and indeed taking in something of their spirit, it is impossible to feel that one really knows russia. four days and nights from moscow brings one to petropavlosk (peter and paul's town), and it is from there, in a southerly direction at first, and then heading towards the east, that the great spassky copper mine is reached, for which a drive of a thousand miles, there and back, is necessary. i had not realized till just before i set out that i should have to drive on day and night without stopping for anything but food and to change horses, as there were no russian rest-houses on that route, and the kirghiz tents were impossible owing to the great number of living beings, other than human, which inhabited them. it was no light thing to undertake, as it meant leaving on tuesday and getting in late on saturday evening, and this only if all went well. some people can sleep under such conditions during the night. i don't know how they possibly can, for there are no roads in any true sense of the word, and none of the vehicles which cross them have springs. the manager of the mine had kindly sent down the usual _tarantass_, which, hooded like a victoria, is a very stout cart, lashed securely upon poles, and drawn by three horses or _troika_. there is no seat inside, but hay is placed over the bottom, and pillows and cushions on the top, and there one reclines during the day, and lies down at night. it all sounds very comfortable and even luxurious, but as there are no roads, and only the roughest of tracks with fearful ruts and soft places where water lingers, with sometimes a sloping bank down to a stream, and, as the wild driver keeps his horses at their full speed, one is hurled violently and roughly about the whole time, sleep, for me at least, is beyond my wildest hopes from start to finish. [illustration: _tarantass with its troika for the steppes._] for the first day or so i had the greatest difficulty to avoid biting my tongue in two as i was thrown about and it came between my teeth, and i used to look with amazement and envy at my kirghiz conductor, on the box beside the driver, swaying about in all directions like a tree in a hurricane, but sound asleep. his name was mamajam, and on our arrival he brought his little daughter fatima to see me, and another youth named abdullah, completing the arabian nights impression he had already given me. there is no regularity in the arrangements for changing horses along the steppes. sometimes one would drive about twenty _versts_ (twelve and a half miles) and then change, while at others we would go on as far as sixty, or even eighty, _versts_ (fifty miles) without any change at all. the horses are very strong and hardy, and are never allowed either food or drink until the journey is over; and, with the horses, the driver is changed also, as every man brings and understands his own. it was a wonderful study in character, temperament, and dress, for the men were extraordinarily different from each other, though all most attractive and interesting; the kirghiz more so than the one or two russians we had. we carried our food, chiefly tinned, with us, but there was an abundance of eggs, butter, and white bread always to be got, and, most welcome sight, always the steaming _samovar_, with its promise of cheering and comforting tea. it is astonishing how one's ordinary food can be cut down in quantity when necessary. we gradually came down to two meals a day, and on the return journey these only consisted of eggs, bread and butter, and tea; and yet the simple life and magnificent air made one feel always extraordinarily fit and well and in good spirits. the steppes, though vast solitudes as far as human habitations are concerned, are full of life and movement, and the most is made of the short summer. caravans are continually meeting the traveller as he goes south or north, or crossing his route from east to west, or west to east, carrying tea from china, timber and other articles of commerce, travellers from town to town, or from one village to another, or a little band of colonists seeking land upon which to settle, or herdsmen in charge of sheep, oxen, or horses. perhaps one's driver catches sight of another _troika_ going in the same direction, and with a shrill cry urges on his team; the other, nothing loath, joins in, and for a quarter of an hour there is a most thrilling race. there is never a dull moment night or day, though perhaps the most inspiring times are those when one has just changed horses, and has a wild young kirghiz on the box who, seeing an opportunity of showing off, stands up whirling his whip and, shrieking, yelling, whistling, like a demon, urges his horses to their utmost speed, making the dust and earth fly in all directions. it makes one feel that it is good to be alive. the air is most transporting at that height, four thousand feet above sea-level; the whole steppes in the early summer are strewn with flowers, larks are singing overhead, streams are flowing on every side, there is a clear horizon as at sea, though now and then there is hilly ground, the sky is ever delightfully blue and without a cloud, and the sun shines brightly, though not too fiercely, from morn till eve. nothing could be more delightful than that first experience, especially as one thought of the object of one's journey and the services of the coming sunday. then the wonderful nights, beginning with the sweet, bell-like sounds of the innumerable frogs after the birds had ceased. as i did not sleep i saw and enjoyed all that the nights had to give, and we had the full moon. first the golden sunlight gradually died away and the silvery light of the moon appeared, that in its turn, after what seemed an extraordinarily short time, giving place to the dawn, which shows itself sometimes more than an hour before the actual sunrise. night on the steppes, like the day, is also full of movement, for many of those who travel long distances prefer to let their horses and bullocks feed and rest during the long day, when they enjoy their pasture best, getting their own rest also at the same time, basking in the sun, and continuing their journey through the night, which is never really dark. my second night out, just after midnight, i was startled at seeing a camel come into view in the moonlight on my right, going in the opposite direction and dragging a small cart, but making no sound upon the grass. it looked quite spectral in the moonlight, and was followed by another, and yet another; then came a bullock, then a horse or two, one after another, then more camels, all with carts and in single file. not a sound could be heard, and only at intervals men walked beside them. it went on and on, the strange, silent procession, and i could not think what manner of caravan it could possibly be. all the carts were small, carefully covered over, and evidently had small loads, though requiring powerful creatures to draw them; and then all at once i understood. it was smelted copper being taken down to the railhead from which i had come, and from the mine to which i was going! i then began to count how many had still to pass me, and reckoned up a hundred and six, so that there must have been nearly three hundred in all. they take three months to go down, load up with stores, and return, and yet i was told that such transport was cheaper than sending by rail will be when that part of the government of akmolinsk is connected with the great trans-siberian line running from petropavlosk both to moscow and petrograd. another time i should take the opportunity afforded by a pause when changing horses in the night to get a few hours' sleep in the _tarantass_ in the open air, which would, of course, make all the difference, and which would then be quite possible. but if i had done it on this occasion i should have had to lose a sunday instead of arriving on the saturday evening. i was well repaid, for though nothing more than a notice was sent quickly round, "the bishop has come, and there will be services at the manager's house to-morrow at half-past ten and at six, and holy communion at half-past seven," yet at half-past seven every one of our countrymen was there and received communion except the wife of one member of the staff ill in bed. the manager's two little boys were there to be present at the first early anglican celebration of holy communion ever taken beyond the urals. a beautiful _ikon_, flowers, and two lights adorned the temporary altar. others than our own countrymen attended the other services. it was a glorious day to have, including as it did attendance at the russian church in the morning when our own service was over. this great mining property includes karagandy, where the coal is, and to which i came first; spassky, where the smelting-works had been set up, some forty miles further on; and uspensky, where the mine itself is, some fifty miles further still. from spassky i went to uspensky by motor-car, and spent three days there with the foreman of the mine and his family. i went down the mine also to make acquaintance with the kirghiz who are at work there, and knocked off for myself some specimens of the rich ore. the foreman and his family--two girls and two sons of between twenty and thirty--had been in new zealand, in the backs, and it was no new thing for them to have a bishop stay and give them services. the wife was a particularly good and devout woman, and in all the years she had been there had never once had the happiness of attending a service of her own church. the two young men were shy fellows, but the manager having first prepared the way, i took them in hand, and, finding they were ready to come to a decision in life, instructed and confirmed them. on these missions, as with philip and the eunuch, we cannot lose such opportunities; and i shall not forget the celebration, early on the day i left, when that whole family received communion together. i know what a joy, such as she had never expected, it was to that good woman thus to have family unity; and, as she died suddenly before the year was over, i shall always feel that my long journey across the steppes was fully worth while if it were only for the happiness it had brought her in enabling her for once in her life to receive communion with all the members of her family. i had another most interesting experience before leaving spassky and the akmolinsk steppes. some little time before my arrival, two of the staff had lost their lives in the smelting-works and been buried in a little plot of ground with two monuments placed above them. one of the memorials was of pure copper, the other of stone, and there was a wooden railing round the small enclosure. the manager asked me to consecrate this little plot of ground with a larger space added to it, so that they might have their own little god's acre. as soon as the russian priest heard that this was to be done he immediately asked if he and his people might be present and share in the service? and to this, of course, we readily agreed. it was impossible, however, to draw up any joint service, as we were ignorant of each other's language, so i arranged that he should say a few prayers first and that i should take our own service afterwards. this he was very glad to do, and, robed in his vestments as for the liturgy, he prayed for the departed, singing with his people, present in great numbers, a touching little litany, and finishing with the offering of incense. as i looked at all those fellow christians of ours and their priest, and then outside at the great circle of the vast steppes stretching away in all directions, so suggestive of greatness of spirit, i felt most deeply moved as i took the censer from him and, offering the incense as he had done, led the way, censing the boundaries of the new burial-ground marked out by stones. our little community followed singing, "o god, our help in ages past," every line of which helped us all to realize a little at least of that large-hearted view of life and of death which no other passage of scripture gives us with the directness and grandeur of psalm xc. the people looked on at this simple little procession with the closest attention and sympathy, and then, after an address--an entirely new experience for them in a religious service--i proceeded to the consecration of the ground. i should fancy it is the only instance, as yet, of clergy of the two churches actually sharing a service together; and that was especially in my mind as i took the good priest's censer to offer, just as he had done and from the same censer, "an oblation with great gladness," feeling to the full "how good and joyful it is for brethren to dwell together in unity." i should say of that service also that it was quite worth while taking that long journey across the steppes to have it. the prevailing idea of siberia in this country is, as we all know, that it is a terrible waste of ice and snow, a land of mines and of convicts, ravaged by packs of wolves; and this is not at all an incorrect impression of the greater part of it and for the longest period of the year. all that is wrong in the impression is that it leaves out the five months of the year in which there is the glow and charm of the tropics, with growth and upspringing life and beauty on every hand. the steppes are a paradise of singing birds and blooming flowers and flowing streams, where the air is joyous to breathe, invigorating, quickening, and inspiriting beyond description. these are the siberian steppes i have known and traversed and loved, and long and hope to see again. but i am keenly alive to all the real and ever-present sense of peril which the winter brings with it as soon as it comes, and which it keeps steadily before the mind till it is over for all who have to meet it and struggle against it. i have heard men speak of the terrible blizzards and the appalling cold; of the deadly gloom, when the air is so full of snow that they can hardly see a hand before their faces, and they wander uncertainly for a whole day and night together until they give themselves up for lost, to find after all, when the storm is over, that they are only a few yards away from their own doors, or in the middle of the street from which they had started. they instantly drop their voices on the kirghiz steppes when they begin to speak of winter, and on some faces there comes at once that beaten look which, whenever it appears, is testimony that the man has measured himself against the sterner forces of nature or of human life, and has failed. [illustration: _inside a kirghiz uerta._] tolstoi's _master and man_ gives a very clear and convincing account of what a snowstorm may mean for even experienced travellers. there the scene is laid in russia, and between one village and another in a country often traversed; but the vast spaces of siberia in that long, gloomy winter must be specially fraught with dangers and terrors during those swiftly rising and deadly _boirams_, as the wind-storms are called, which completely obliterate all landmarks while they last, and which are not to be met with anywhere else in the inhabited parts of the world. at spassky they told me of a kirghiz horseman who had been found one morning, during the preceding winter, just outside his home, horse and rider rigid in the snow and frozen stiff, both of them dead for hours. they had struggled against the _boiram_ as long as they could, the man probably urging on his horse to the last, and both giving up the struggle together as the awful frost took possession of them, so swiftly that there was no falling off for the one nor sinking down for the other. and, if they had only known it, or the blinding storm had permitted them to see, they were at the very door of their home and within reach of warmth and food and shelter. i remember once saying to friends that i supposed when travelling in winter they could make themselves very comfortable by packing themselves in with "hot-water foot-warmers." "hot-water foot-warmers!" they exclaimed. "why, the frost would have them and destroy them completely almost before we had left the door." then the wolves are there also! siberia has not changed in that respect from the weird land of which we have read as long as we can remember, and is still the haunt of the most fierce and untiring enemies which man and beast alike have to fear when they are the hunters and not the hunted. the fair siberia of the glorious summer knows no wolves. then there is food enough and to spare always within reach, and there are homes and family life even for wolves to think of and be happy about. there is no need then, though they are gregarious by nature, for them to join together. each can fend for himself, and have enough for all his family and to spare. not a wolf is to be seen except very rarely, and the traveller never even thinks of them with fear as, singly, sleek, and well fed, they slink away immediately as soon as seen. it is altogether different when winter comes, and hunger, even famine, gets a grip upon them because so many other creatures are hibernating. then the quarry must be of different character, and nothing is too strong or big for a huge pack well led. once they have been driven by stern necessity to combine together and choose their leader they will stick at nothing and attempt almost anything. a friend of mine, born in petrograd, tells us of an old travelling carriage of his father's, in which he and his brothers and sisters, when children, used to play. "it was raised very high from the ground," he says, "only to be reached by a small ladder, so as to be out of the reach of wolves." just the same stories are told after every winter as those of which we have so often read in prose and verse; and, out of the many told me as happening quite recently, i select the following:-- three winters ago a wedding party went from their village, in the altai, where the ceremony had taken place in the morning at the home of the bride, to the village where the bridegroom lived, and to which he was now taking back his newly-wedded wife. they were a hundred and twenty in number, and made a large party, with their horses and sledges, and were not afraid; but an unusually large pack of wolves was out that afternoon, and, soon scenting them, gave chase. party after party were overtaken, pulled down, and, with horses as well, devoured. the bride and bridegroom and best man were in the front sledge with good horses, and kept ahead till they were quite close to the village, when they too were overtaken by a few of the strongest and swiftest of their pursuers. to save themselves the bridegroom and best man threw out the bride, and thus stopped the pursuit for a time sufficiently for them to gain the village. it was a shocking thing to do, but when the villagers began to question and help them out the awful explanation was forthcoming! the two men had gone mad with fright, and had not known what they were really doing. in that terrible hunting down, with the shrieks and despairing cries of their friends, as they were overtaken, ever ringing in their ears as they urged their own terror-stricken horses forward, it is little wonder that their minds gave way. let there be no mistake, therefore, about the steppes. the reader may keep the new impression (if it is new) that i have endeavoured to give of a most beautiful, rich, and fertile country; and which i am hoping to be visiting again while this book is being read, finding, i hope, this country of the wolves story rejoicing in all the glow and beauty of summer. but still, for nearly seven months of the year, that siberia is the old siberia still, fast bound in the grip of an appalling frost, waging, in its storms, a never-ceasing battle against human enterprise and effort; and the haunt of those insatiable and savage creatures which seem to stand out from all other creatures in being devoid, when in packs, of all fear or dread of man. the steppes above turkestan, which i visited last, are milder in climate than those of akmolinsk. great parts of them are sand, with a sage-like scrub, dear to the heart of camels; and they have a drier and even more invigorating air than that of the northern plains. across these i travelled my five hundred miles in a panhard motor-car, with a wild russian chauffeur who knew no fear. he dashed across a country which practically had no roads and resembled a rough scotch moor, with an _élan_ that the most daring french chauffeur might envy. he was a fine fellow, boroff by name, and carried me on as before, day and night, and again with sunshine for the one and moonlight for the other. "the devil's wagon" is the name the wondering kirghiz have given the motor-car from the first, but it is the last description it deserves. my journey of under twenty-four hours from the railhead to the atbazar mining camp, if i had had to go by camel, as i expected might be possible until my actual arrival, would have taken me some twelve days, or even more. all the transport in these steppes is by camels, and i could not be satisfied until i had made a small expedition upon one, and shall, perhaps, have to do the same again; but modern appliances are not to be despised, and no one can wish for a better experience of the steppes than to make the journey in the middle of summer and in a good modern motor-car. chapter ix russia's problem the social problem, as it presents itself to thoughtful people in russia, really demands a book to itself. no doubt it will come before long, and from some experienced pen. it is only possible for me just to touch upon it in this chapter, which one must write; or else even this very general view of russia's life of to-day would be utterly inadequate and incomplete. and, in so doing, i shall have to try and show how different it is in russia from the same problem as presented in other countries in europe. it is well known, for instance, that the great question for ourselves waiting for solution at some early date is the social question. what was called for us the "triple alliance" in the world of labour, the union of the railway, transport, and mining workers was completed just before war broke out; and, though with a patriotism beyond praise all needs and desires of their own are put aside for the present, our workers will give expression to their wishes at no distant day after peace comes. even before this book is in print the masses in germany, grimly silent so long except for the ever-increasing votes for their socialistic representatives, silent even during the disillusionment which has come to them these last six months, may have at last spoken out. we are told that their leader, herr bebel, who is said to have known the german character through and through, declared that the first serious defeat experienced by germany "would produce a miracle." social unrest is still universal. [illustration: _russian service at the atbazar mine._ (see page .)] we find it, therefore, as we should expect to do, in russia; and more general, perhaps, and more acute than at any other previous time, just before the war was declared. this, it may be remembered, is stated to have been one of the reasons why the curt and hurried ultimatum was presented at petrograd, where it was thought that social troubles and dangers were so serious that it would be impossible for the government even to think of going to war. we have been told,[ ] though it was probably not known outside russia at that time, what a good turn germany really did to the russian government and the russian people by turning their thoughts from their own grave difficulties to the dangers which threatened them from without. at that time, we are assured, not only petrograd, but every big manufacturing district of russia, was shaking with revolt of a peculiar kind, and civil war on the point of breaking out. in petrograd there were barricades already erected, at least , were on strike, tramcars had been broken up, attacks upon the police had taken place, factories were garrisoned in expectation of attack, the cossacks were everywhere--openly in the streets, hidden away in places most threatened. the police arrested those who were supposed to be leaders, but it made no difference, for the people needed no leading. they were all so thoroughly in the movement. indeed, we are told, "things seemed to the russian government to be as bad as they could very well be; and orders were actually given for the severest possible repressive measures, which would, perhaps, have involved a large-scale battle, probably a massacre, and certainly a state of war in the capital." it would have been "red sunday" over again, only this time infinitely and more ominously worse. a great calamity was narrowly escaped. now there is this to be noticed about this russian upheaval, and this social bitterness and discontent expressing itself in the way with which we are only too sadly familiar, and which claims our attention as being so entirely different from similar movements of our own. the russian workers made no demands, had no special grievances nor complaints which they wished to make known. in all strikes one has previously heard of there has been some hardship or injustice to bring forward, some claim or request to urge. here there was nothing of the kind. "they were not on strike," we are told, "for higher wages. in no single case did the men make a demand from their masters. in no single case had a man gone on strike because of a grievance which his master could put right. no concessions by the masters could have brought the men back to work. the only answer they returned when asked why there was a strike was that they were dissatisfied with their lives, and that they intended to disorganize the state until these things were altered." it is clear, therefore, that the social unrest, and the activity which has so long resulted from it, have not a very definite aim as yet. hence the nihilist. he is dissatisfied, embittered, smarting under a sense of wrong; and while he does not see how he can put things right, feels that he must do something, and so destroys. "that at least will be something," he feels, "then we can begin again." this, we can further see, will be the youthful _student's_ view if dissatisfied and discontented, and without either experience or constructive and practical knowledge to suggest how the wrong may be put right. some of us, therefore, think that russia's greatest social danger arises from the _student_ part of her population, and that her great problem--a vital one for her to solve, and soon--is how to deal fairly and wisely with them, and, caring for them as paternally as she does for her peasant population, incorporate them fully and intimately into her national life. it is from the educated classes that social unrest and discontent have proceeded in russia, and from them that those agents have come who have spread wild and daring dreams of change and revolution amongst the working classes of the towns, and, although that has not been so successful, amongst the peasantry also. to some extent their socialistic ideas have been echoes from western europe. i remember being told, when i first went to petrograd, "we usually have your bad weather here about eight or ten days after you, only we have it worse." it would seem that the rule holds good in other ways also, for sir donald mackenzie wallace tells us, in one of his three deeply interesting chapters on social difficulties in russia, that during the last two centuries all the important intellectual movements in western europe have been reflected in russia, and that these reflections have generally been what may fairly be called exaggerated and distorted reflections of the earlier socialistic movements of the west, but with local peculiarities and local colouring which deserve attention. he goes on to explain how the educated classes, absorbing these ideas from abroad, just as ideas, and not as relating to the conditions of life in russia as closely as in england, france, and germany, from which they came, have quite naturally been less practical in the conclusions they have drawn from them, if indeed they have pushed their ideas to any conclusion at all. we are shown plainly by this lucid and well-informed writer how natural it has been for western socialists to be constructive and definite in their aims, while russians could only be destructive. nihilism is made clear, and we understand its origin, while we can equally well understand what we are so reassuringly told about its present decline. this does not imply necessarily that russian thinkers and workers are becoming less socialistic in sympathy and aims, but more practical; and that they are learning, just as the west has taught them, that the only way in which they can hope to advance their own views is to use all the legal means which their government, as it becomes ever more democratic and constitutional, will increasingly give them. but amongst all the different classes who may be called educated, the university students of both sexes form the class which most claims our sympathies, and constitutes, i consider, russia's gravest problem. there are ten universities in the empire, only one of which contains less than , students, while the leading ones far exceed this number--moscow having just under , , and petrograd about , . we can hardly realize what such numbers mean for the national life, when over , men and women are receiving university education and being prepared for professional careers. over , are studying law, nearly , are receiving a scientific education before taking up work as chemists, engineers, etc., another , are studying medicine, comparatively few only being left for the teaching profession. there are only about a hundred divinity students. in addition to these there are russian students in all the universities of europe. i have never been able to ascertain their actual numbers, but at geneva, lausanne, berne, leipzig, berlin, and other great centres of education i have always been told, not only that they were there in no small numbers, but that they were the keenest and most attentive of all the students in the class, the first to come, and the last to leave, always in the front seats, and unflagging in their attention. they are evidently most eager to learn, and are turned out from all the universities of europe and from their own, extremely well equipped and prepared for professional work. then a vast number of students of this class are pitiably poor, straining every nerve, putting up with privations undreamed of elsewhere, in order to get through the preparation for their life's work. many of them, great numbers of them indeed, must be miserably disappointed. town and city life, upon which the professional classes must rely chiefly in seeking the means of gaining their livelihood, has not developed as yet in proportion to that of the agricultural population; and certainly at nothing like the rate which would be necessary if all those educated and trained at the universities were to be provided with careers and given an adequate opportunity. the supply is far, far greater than the demand. thus we have in russia a large class of really competent, brainy, well qualified young graduates of both sexes, naturally longing to take their part in the life, work, and affairs of their country, urged on also by their poverty to seek and even demand it; and yet many, it seems to me sometimes that it must be far the greater number, must be unable to find it. here obviously are all the materials for a real social danger; and students, therefore, always appear in stories of plots and conspiracies, always fill an important place in plays of the same kind, and are always to the fore in tumults and demonstrations. it must be so, for they are the one really embittered class, and to them it must seem sometimes that there can be no hope for them at all in the social order as it is, and that its only possibility for them lies in its being destroyed and reconstructed. [illustration: _a class of russian students with their teachers._] in many of our centres of work abroad we have a _foyer_ where the foreign students can meet, and at geneva last year with great difficulty we had opened a hostel for russian students when the war broke out. there one heard the most touching stories of their poverty, and yet of their pride and independence, and also of the special temptations to which their poverty exposed them. some landlords, for instance, are not slow to tell girls that they would live better and more cheaply if they would temporarily "keep house" with one of the young men students, and occupy one room! our hostel was hurried on last year as we heard of many instances of this kind, and a generous friend in petrograd helped me very largely in finding the money. everything was to be supplied at cost price, and no profits were to be made, the two english ladies in charge giving their services. there was a restaurant also which supplied good food at very moderate rates, and how moderate may be judged from the charge made for afternoon tea of a halfpenny! it consisted of a cup of tea and a small roll of bread without butter. the first time i saw how cheaply the foreign students at geneva lived was one festival evening when they invited me to supper, and when we had chicken salad with bread and butter followed by dessert, tea, and coffee, for which the charge was about fivepence each. the year after that i entertained them in return and gave them a christmas party at which there were fourteen nationalities present, mainly slav. nothing could have been more interesting than that gathering, nor could any host have had more grateful guests. last year the noel fest could not be held as there were no students; but i hope next christmas may possibly see the war over, and that we may have a slav evening party in geneva once again. it may be well to mention here how there comes to be a _foyer_ or club for russians and other students at geneva. it is a part of the organization connected with the world student christian federation, which had its beginning in the eighties in the united states of america, as a movement to promote an interest in missionary work amongst students. in a deputation came over to this country to tell the student world what was going on across the atlantic, and the student foreign missionary union was the result. next the christian student movement extended itself into all our european countries, and finally the world's federation was accomplished at wadstena castle in sweden in . it is directed by a committee consisting of two representatives from each national movement, with mr. john r. mott, so well known, as its general secretary. its operations now extend into all the leading countries of the world. there is a biennial conference, and it is admitted that one of the most interesting of any yet held was the one at constantinople in , which was attended by patriarchs representing all the orthodox churches of the east. it is not an undenominational movement, but exactly the opposite--a call rather to all the churches of the world to be consistent in their christian profession and "walk worthy of the vocation wherewith they are called." it is not a society nor a religious body, but a movement or union, and its basis, to be accepted by all its voluntary members and officers, is the declaration, "i desire, in joining this union, to declare my faith in jesus christ as my saviour, my lord, and my god." there is no reason why any christian in the world should not join it. roman catholics, orthodox, anglicans, and members of other churches the world over can have no possible difficulty in making such a simple declaration if there is any reality at all in their sense of membership in christ's church; and there is every reason _why_ a christian student should join a movement which is the only one of its kind to aim at work for christ in those places where it is most urgently and sorely needed, and where it is most likely to be truly fruitful--the universities and colleges of the world. there we have to-day those who have to lead and guide and guard the course of the whole world to-morrow. it is in the universities of the world that some of those influences which are most hostile and inimical to true social well-being are first set in motion, and it is there most certainly that we must begin if we wish to see the world made better and won for god. the war has made us long, i hope, for better things in a way the world has never dreamt of before, because there has never been anything in all history which has so focussed attention for the watching world upon a simple and direct question of right and wrong. the issue is even more momentous and significant than that. this great question of righteousness and unrighteousness must be answered by every one in the world according to his belief or unbelief. it is just a question for us all to settle whether our own interests, individual or national, or our duty to god comes first. the issue has never been more simply stated, and the church of christ has never in all her history had such a magnificent opportunity of giving her message, and proclaiming her mission. i hope, therefore, that all my readers will take an early opportunity of learning all they can about the christian student movement, and satisfy themselves as to its fitness for helping the whole church of christ to avail herself to the full of this god-given opportunity and possibility. a _foyer_ is a necessary centre for students wherever a branch of the movement has been formed, and it would be difficult to speak too warmly of its value for its members. i have mentioned this movement here, briefly enough, i fear, of necessity, because i should think there is no place where it is more needed, nor, as far as i can judge, more likely to continue to succeed, than in russia. in petrograd there are already a number of influential and wealthy russians deeply interested in its work amongst the men students. they include a near relation of the emperor, and the work is directed by a number of extremely competent and earnest americans. i had an opportunity of meeting and addressing them when in petrograd a year ago. the work amongst the girl and women students is being carried forward very quietly by our own country-women, who are full of hope. but up to the present a great deal of caution and wisdom has had to be exercised, both because the authorities have so long been accustomed to look suspiciously at anything which seemed to promote associations amongst students, and because students themselves, for reasons already given, have naturally looked askance at anything which was obviously working in the direction of law and order. the movement, more and more, it will be seen, is one of the soundest of modern efforts in the direction of real social improvement, because it begins at the right end, with those who are thinking and pondering life's problems before launching out to try their best to solve them. nowhere has it been more needed, as i have said, than in russia, and nowhere has it made a better start. the hopeful thing about russia just now is that _every one_ is most keenly and profoundly interested in the social well-being of the people--on the one hand anxious to obtain it more fully for themselves, and on the other really wishful to give and promote it, even if watchful and cautious lest they should make mistakes and have to draw back. and surely caution is very necessary in russia. it is only a little over fifty years since the emancipation of the serfs. let any one think of russia with a servile population so short a time ago, and then think of what she is to-day, and they will form some idea of the extraordinary social improvement and transformation which has taken place. yet with all this caution the desire to see improvement is general, and no one is satisfied with the lives of the working-classes in the large towns as they are. it is well known indeed, as i have already said, that russia has been absorbed in plans for social improvement for the last few years, and was meaning to launch out into great undertakings this very year. those plans are only deferred, we hope, and will be taken up with greater zest and confidence than ever when peace comes. perhaps the delay will prove to have been an inestimable gain, if it has made it clearer than before that there are certain examples it might be well to avoid. a great deal has been said and written of late years of the vast superiority of german municipal government and organization, and certainly no cities in europe approach those of germany for attractiveness and excellence of arrangements as to streets, parks, public buildings, and imposing blocks of flats for private families of all classes. germans have been for many years now animated by the very best spirit of municipal initiative and responsibility, and have shown a really worthy civic pride. railway stations, post offices, walks, and squares in germany are beyond comparison with those of any other country. and yet i am assured that much is sacrificed for effect and appearance; and i was astonished to hear, a little while ago, how miserably inadequate was the accommodation that even a skilled artisan in berlin could afford to have. a well-known social authority, mr. t. c. horsfall, writing in the _spectator_ last december, told us that there is terrible overcrowding in nearly all large german towns, and that the overcrowded tall blocks of buildings are themselves too closely crowded together, and the effect is bad both for health and morality. the death-rate, including that of infants, is much higher with them than with us. and i cannot help thinking that the effect of giving families only two rooms and a small scullery, one living-room and one bedroom for all, must have its effect upon the morality of a population. whatever the cause, we are told that in berlin per cent. of the births are registered as illegitimate, in munich as many as per cent., in vienna over per cent., while in london they are only per cent. "the effect on german town populations," mr. horsfall states, "especially on the poorer inhabitants of berlin, of the conditions existing in german towns is described in an appeal made in or about the year by professor schmoller to his fellow-countrymen to deal adequately and promptly with those conditions. the appeal has been reprinted in an important report published in by dr. werner hegemann: 'the circumstances are so terrible that one can only wonder that the consequences have not been even worse. only because a large part of these poor people have brought from their earlier life a store of good habits, of religious tradition, of decent feeling, into these dens, has the worst not yet been reached. but the children and young people who are now growing up in these holes must necessarily lose the virtues of economy, domesticity, family life, and all regard for law and property, decency, and good habits. he who has no proper dwelling, but only a sleeping-place, must fall a victim to the public-house and to drink.... the community to-day is forcing the lower strata of the factory proletariat of large towns by its dwelling conditions with absolute necessity to fall back to a level of barbarism and bestiality, of savagery and rowdiness, which our forefathers hundreds of years ago had left behind them. i maintain that there lies the greatest danger for our civilization.'" with such examples as this before her we must trust that russia will set about promoting the social well-being of her people with all her characteristic independence, and determine that in their housing she will have only those "great spaces" which are her characteristic features in so many other ways. we have to tread this same road of social reform also when the war is over, and it is good to think that we may, perhaps, be able to take it, just as we have carried on the war, without any party questions or party spirit connected with it, as will be the case also in russia. it is even more inspiring to think, again let me say it, that we and our new friend may tread this path together: comparing notes and making plans together as we go. that would be indeed an _entente_ worth the name, when it was not in order that we might make war together, only that we had come to an agreement, but that we might help each other's peoples in all the arts of peace. mr. baring tells us that he was once drinking tea with a russian landowner who calls himself a moderate liberal, and when, in their conversation, the anglo-russian agreement was mentioned, he exclaimed (and i have no doubt he expressed the feelings of many others who desire the social good of russia as he did so), "this is the most sensible thing the russian government has done for the last forty years!" [illustration: _the english church of s. andrew, at moscow, with the parsonage._] footnotes: [ ] "anglitchanin" in _the contemporary review_, nov., . chapter x the anglican church in russia i welcome the opportunity that this chapter affords me of defining the position taken by our church in russia, for it is just the same there as in germany, france, belgium, and the other countries in our jurisdiction. many english churchmen deprecate, while others strongly resent, our having clergy, churches, and services on the continent of europe at all. they consider it an interference with the church of the country, schismatical in its character, and a hindrance and impediment to the reunion of christendom. some english clergy come, therefore, into the jurisdiction of north and central europe from their own parishes, and though their own church may have its services there, ostentatiously attend the services of the roman catholic church. young men coming out for business, girls taking positions as nurses and governesses, and others coming for health and enjoyment, are sometimes advised by their clergy not to go near the english church, but to attend mass and "worship with the people of the country." what, i fancy, many of our brethren at home, clergy and laity alike, fail very often to realize is the great difference between a temporary and permanent residence abroad. many of us know what it is to spend a holiday in some simple and beautiful village--in the black forest, for instance--amongst devout and good people, far away from one's own church, and where it is just as natural as anything can be, and completes the friendly feeling between us, to go to church on sunday and worship with them. even in an unfamiliar service we have our own prayer books, and can read collect, epistle, and holy gospel, and be in spirit and touch with our brethren worshipping in their own churches all over the world. there is something to be said, therefore, for sharing the worship of the people of the place when passing through or making but a short stay, though, even in holiday resorts or "sports centres," the opportunities which our church, chaplain, and services offer are too precious and important to be lost or undervalued. but there is nothing whatever to be said for leaving a community of our own countrymen, permanently resident in another land, without the ministrations of their own church, if they can possibly be supplied to them; and still less if, as in russia and some other places, the people can find the means of support themselves. will any of our brethren seriously maintain that, when families have to leave this country and go to live on the continent of europe, they must leave their own church and be received into the roman or greek communion? or, if not, will they consider that they ought to frequent the services of those churches as outsiders, never having the experiences and helps afforded by the sacramental means of grace? it must be one or the other. if abroad we are not to attend the services of our own church, then the only alternative is either to leave it altogether or to live the maimed spiritual life of those who are without the ministry of the word and sacraments. and, moreover, if it is thought that one of the pressing duties of our time is to follow our brethren across the ocean to canada, though even there the roman church claims to be the "church of the country" in its french-speaking territory, and to give them the ministrations of religion, why are we not to follow them across the channel, when they leave their country for precisely the same reason, to extend its business and commercial influence and to serve its interests in diplomatic, consular, and professional life? to think at all carefully over the situation is to see at once that our people in north and central europe have just the same rights (and i don't ask for anything more than that) to the services of their own church as anywhere else in the world. take, for instance, this typical case of a friend of mine living in one of the cities of europe, and now retired from business, but still living on where he is so well known, and where he has many ways of making himself of use. he was married young, and his bride went with him to make her home abroad. they had their own church there, and there they took their children to be baptized and, when old enough, to worship, be confirmed, and become communicants. there those children have been married, and from there gone out into the world to make new homes. in his house the clergy have been always made welcome, and have visited them when sick, counselled them when necessary, and received much valuable advice in return. can any one be heartless enough, or foolish enough, to say that there ought to have been no english church in that place at all, and that he and his young wife ought to have attended the church of the country, and with their descendants been lost to their own? then there are girls at school, young men learning the language, governesses, nurses, lads in the training stables, girls dancing on the stage--these are well shepherded in paris--and others. are they to feel in after life, "just at the critical time, when i needed it most, my church was not there to give me the helping hand--and all might have been so different if it had been!" i will not dwell upon all the priceless opportunities afforded us abroad, where touch is more quickly gained, and more easily maintained, of winning during sickness and at other times those who have never been in touch with clergy or church at home, bringing them out into the light, gaining them for the church, and sending them home to "strengthen the brethren" there. most of our clergy, from northern russia to southern france and the pyrenees, have their inspiriting stories to tell of the services they have rendered to the church at home in this way, and yet that church, if some of our brethren could have their way, would disown them. it won't bear seriously thinking of, this objection to english church work abroad; and surely it rings more true to what we feel is the englishman's duty wherever he is, when we read that our countrymen, after settling at archangel in the sixteenth century, built their warehouses and their church at the same time, and wished, in their adopted country, to worship god "after the manner of their fathers." i have taken a little time to explain our continental position thus, because it is the same in every country, is thoroughly understood, and never, as far as i know, resented. we always make it perfectly clear that we never wish to interfere with the church of the country, nor the religion of its people, but are there to shepherd our own. and it is a curious thing that in catholic belgium, as it is called, with people devoted to their church, and with a clerical government such as they have had for at least the last forty years, our anglican clergy receive from the belgian government the same recognition, status, stipends, grants for houses, etc., as are given to the clergy of the country. but nowhere is the position of our church more fully, sympathetically or affectionately recognized than in russia. nowhere would it be felt, as there, a grave and responsible neglect of duty on our part if we were to leave our own people without the ministrations of their own church. they go further than this in sympathetic feeling, for they consider that there is a special link and bond of union between our church and their own. an anonymous but evidently extremely well-informed writer about russia, over the _nom de plume_ of "anglitchanin" in a leading review[ ] a month or two ago, said, in the course of his article on _russia and the war_, "the english church is said to be very like the greek orthodox. it is not so in fact, but in russia it is believed to be so by _all classes of the population_. that is indeed the one thing about england that they all know. i have known more than one peasant ask me, 'is england beyond germany--far? or beyond siberia? but your religion is like ours.' "the origin of this belief," he adds, "is to be found in the fact that we are not lutherans on the one side, and on the other do not acknowledge the pope." they welcome our bishops and clergy to their services in their robes, and attend ours in the same way. when the late duke of edinburgh married the daughter of the emperor alexander, the service took place first in the cathedral with the russian rite, with dean stanley present in his robes, and then a second time in the english church with our own service, with the russian clergy present in the sanctuary. the bishop of london also loves to describe his reception at the great troitsky monastery near moscow, where he attended the services in cope and mitre, and with pastoral staff, and was greeted by all the clergy present as one of their own bishops; and the last time i heard him describe the beautiful ceremonial, he added significantly, "i should not have been received in that way at s. peter's, rome"; but who can say what may be the outcome of this war? there has been a wonderful drawing together of the french and english clergy, and perhaps we may soon have more brotherly relations with the roman clergy, even though we do not have inter-communion. when four of our english bishops went to russia with a large party of members of parliament and business men, three years ago, the chaplain at petrograd arranged a choral celebration of holy communion in his church, and it was attended by some of the highest dignitaries of the russian church, who were present in their robes and took part in the procession, following the service as closely and intelligently as they could. no clergy of our church have ever gone to russia to learn what they could for themselves, or give lectures, or act as members of deputations, and come into touch with the orthodox clergy and been disappointed with their reception; but, on the contrary, they have often been quite astonished at the warmth of welcome offered them and the keen interest shown towards them. i had no idea until i had read what the _contemporary review_ has told us that there is nothing so well known about england, throughout _all classes_ of the population, as the similarity of the two churches and the religion they represent; but i can speak for the archbishops, bishops, and clergy, that they have a real knowledge of the church of england and the character of its services, and a very sincere wish to be on friendly and brotherly terms with its members, clergy and laity alike. and i do not think there is one of them who would not consider it a great compliment and most kind attention if any english churchman called upon him to pay his respects and show interest in his church and work. their keen interest in our church all over the empire, even in a humble little village, is extraordinarily different from the almost complete ignorance and indifference which prevails amongst our own countrymen as to theirs, except amongst the members of one or two societies founded to bring the two churches into more real unity of spirit. however, this, like so many other things, is to be entirely changed. we are going to see and know more than we have ever done before of the way in which "god is working his purpose out" in his church, as we are being brought into intelligent sympathy with a simply overwhelming part of christendom, as represented by the orthodox church of russia and the other churches of the east. will there be many english churchmen who will not be most deeply moved when they read that the first _te deum_, after all these centuries, has been sung in st. sophia, in constantinople? it will be a most inspiring thing too to hear that the whitewash, always peeling off, which covers up the mosaic picture of our _lord_, has been cleared away, and he is shown looking down in blessing while the holy communion is once more celebrated in the great church of justinian. we are all praying that _god_ will bring good out of evil, and overcome evil with good, as this war draws on to its close, and many of us from time to time think of the "good" it will be for humanity if a more united christian church can be one of its first results. "who will not pray?" said mr. w. j. birkbeck, the one english layman who knows russia, its people, and its church as few englishmen or even russians know them, when addressing a great gathering in london last year, "that this terrible conflict in which we are engaged will bring the eastern and english churches closer to one another? we are mindful of the considerable advances which have already been made in that direction, and of the ever-increasing friendship which has arisen between the english and russian churches of late years, and more especially during the twenty years' reign of the emperor nicholas ii. it is known that even in the earliest years of his reign his majesty more than once expressed his wish that the two churches should get to know one another more closely, and that this was the best way to draw the two nations together. it is known too that queen victoria, when she was told of this, said, 'yes, it is not only the best way, it is the only sure way.' the visits of anglican bishops at various times have all tended to promote good feeling and mutual understanding, as did also the visit to england of the late archbishop antonius of finland, afterwards metropolitan of st. petersburg, on the occasion of queen victoria's diamond jubilee. the question of the reunion of our two churches is one that cannot be forced or rushed; it will never be brought about by compromises, or by diplomatic shams. it will only come about when the two churches, after coming fully to know one another, find that both of them hold the whole of that faith which each of them, and not one only, and all its members, and not some only, hold to be essential." i hope it will not be uninteresting now if, as they are not many in number, i describe briefly the places where english church work is carried on in russia, and give some characteristic service at each. at petrograd the british church, with the parsonage, library, and a number of other suites of rooms, is a great block of buildings, formerly a palace, owned and maintained by the british factory, and with a staff of three clergy. the church is the former ballroom of the palace, and is a classical basilica, with rows of greek pillars and capitals, and a very impressive place of worship. if i single out one of the beautiful services i have known i shall choose the evensong on the feast of the epiphany last year, when i preached on the last day of my stay, and had what one might call a sunday congregation. it was grand to see that large congregation on a weekday, so far away from home. [illustration: _the bishop and russian chauffeur in the midst of the steppes on the way to atbazar._] three other places are served from petrograd--helsingfors, narva, and schlusselberg. helsingfors has a small community of girls engaged in teaching and nursing, and the one englishman who lives there with his wife, a mr. reid, is a professor of english in the finn university. one has to go there and return during the night, and during my day there i had a confirmation in the art school, most carefully and reverently prepared, and in the evening mr. and mrs. reid had all the girls for a reception, at which i was able to chat with them individually and speak to them about the important and responsible trust they had in being allowed to lay the foundations of character in young lives. at midnight they were all on the station to say good-bye, bright english girls with sparkling eyes and happy faces. who could not go away deeply thankful that they were not allowed to feel in that remote place that they were forgotten by their church? narva is a great manufacturing community with a large staff of englishmen, also a long journey away, and it so happens that they are nearly all nonconformists there, but they value our services, and enjoyed mine with them, followed as it was by a special evening of music and recitations, about sixty being present. schlusselberg is a large factory for printing cotton goods for asia, half a day's journey up the neva, where we always have an evening service followed by holy communion next morning. it is the only place i have yet known where all the community, about forty, have been present at the evening service, and next morning been _all_ present again as communicants, but with one added to their number, a man who had been away the night before. moscow has a church and parsonage and large courtyard, as will be seen in the illustration; almost startlingly like, it seems in that ancient capital, to a bit of a london suburb. but as i saw it on christmas eve last year it was russian enough, the great courtyard was full of _troikas_ and sledges, and the clear air musical with tinkling bells as the people came driving in from far and near, clad in warm furs, for the service. that christmas eve, with its carols and the old hymns, helped one to realize what it means to have an english church and clergyman in a community like that of moscow. the chaplain conducts all the services, does all the work of the community, and visits over a large neighbourhood outside, single-handed. warsaw is the next capital to take, much before us of late, and perhaps with a great place yet to fill in future history. it is the centre of christian work amongst the russian jews, as i shall have to explain more at length in my next chapter; but there is also a british community to whom the chaplain ministers, and which perhaps numbers, all told, about a hundred, with one or two outlying places reckoned in. the service i remember most at warsaw, and shall always associate with it, was the dedication or consecration--the two abroad mean the same thing--of their church. we had it on a sunday morning, with a very large congregation, and very impressive it was to take, so far away, as our little copies of the service told us, "the order of consecration as used in the diocese of london." there were some old catholics present, and they were deeply impressed with the scriptural character of a service which carried us back to the days of david and solomon. i dare say it was true of all there, as one of them said, that they had never seen the consecration of a church of their own before, and had had to come to russia for it when they did. we have only two other places in our jurisdiction--as the shores of the black sea fall to the diocese of gibraltar--libau and riga. libau is a baltic port in courland, a german-speaking place, where there is an extremely small british community, but where there are a fair number of british ships in the course of the year. the establishment consists of two flats side by side, one of which supplies the chaplain and his wife with a comfortable home; and the other, which communicates with it, provides an institute, with papers and a billiard-table, etc., for the sailors, and a beautiful little chapel opening out of it. when last there we had a reception, or social, in the institute, followed by a service; after which we came back into the institute, and i had a talk with the seamen and apprentices and one or two young fellows in the business houses. i need not ask the reader if he thinks that little church ought to be there or not. riga is a great port, also on the baltic, and its beautiful church, with a great spire, is close to the banks of the river. it has a splendid position and is tremendously appreciated and well supported by a fairly large and prosperous community. the service to mention here was my confirmation on the russian whitsun day last year but one. every one comes to a confirmation abroad, and it was to us at riga a real anniversary of the great gift of the holy spirit. it was in the afternoon, and we had had the holy communion at eight and morning service at eleven as at home--but the confirmation was at three, and was _the_ service of the day. it makes a great difference when a large congregation can really be brought to pray during the short space of silence usually kept for the purpose. they most certainly prayed that afternoon at riga, and many told me in touching language what an experience it had been to them. these are _great_ opportunities abroad. a man in middle life told me once, also abroad, what the confirmation of his daughter had been to him that day after he had been led specially to pray in the service; and he added, "i've never been at a confirmation before this since my own at charterhouse, and i can only wish that it had meant more to me at the time." there is one other place to mention, the port which is historic for us in more senses than one just now--archangel. it is not actually upon the white sea, but a little distance up the dvina, and is frequented by a good number of british ships in the summer when the sea there is free from ice. there is a church and a rectory, but no community at all, and so the russia company send a chaplain there for the summer months to visit the men aboard ship and hold services for them ashore. the anglican church in russia, therefore, for i have described every place in which it is at work, is not a very large community, but i can claim that it is zealous, earnest, efficient, and thoroughly representative, and i feel sure that it will be admitted that it is doing a real and good work for russia as well as for ourselves. i have often brought home to myself the real significance of an interest or influence by asking myself what i should do without it. and if one only just thinks, "what would our countrymen do in russia? how would they hope to knit up real and lasting ties, if their church were not there?" there would be, to my mind, no answer which could be adequately expressed in words. i hope to be able, when the war is over, to appoint a chaplain whose work it shall be to travel over those great spaces in european and siberian russia and visit very small communities where it is impossible for a permanent chaplain to find enough to do. these will rapidly increase now as the country and its people become better known to us. the first church of england service ever taken in siberia is a very good instance to give of such opportunities. it was in , at ekaterinburg, just beyond the urals, and in the government of perm, a large and growing town of , people, where our british community is represented almost entirely by one family named yates, paper manufacturers, whose first mill was built there fifty years ago. it now consists of mr. and mrs. yates, their brothers, children, and grandchildren. ekaterinburg is a distributing centre for the bible society, and their agent--earnest, energetic, and capable--is one of the best-known and respected englishmen in siberia. he it was who had prepared for my coming, arranged for me to stay with mr. and mrs. yates, and invited every one within reach--"i've sounded the big drum," he said--and with governesses, english wives of russians, a young fellow and his wife teaching roller-skating, and one or two others--some having travelled long distances to get there--we must have numbered about thirty in all. they prepared a little temporary altar in the large drawing-room, with an _ikon_, flowers, etc., and we had holy communion, a morning and evening service, our dinner and supper together, and a priceless experience of the unity which thankfulness and fellowship always bring with them when realized in common prayer and worship. from ekaterinburg i went a day's journey to another town, in a part of the country to which very few english travellers ever go, and there the small community consisted of one family only, though they were three generations. we were only a dozen altogether, and some might think it was hardly worth taking up a bishop's time for three days to go and see one family. but the head of that family had been there between forty and fifty years, and never had our church's service during that time, nor received communion. the grandchildren had never seen or heard the service before, and they were the children of a russian father, attending a russian school. i made my address simple so that they could understand it, knowing that the others could if the children did, and i had one or two opportunities of conversation with them, which they greatly welcomed. late at night i left, all the party accompanying me to the station to see me off; and after we had said, "good-bye," and they had left, the mother of those children came back quietly and said:-- "bishop, i felt i must come back just to tell you this. in the winter, after having tried so long to keep my boy and girl english in their ideas, i felt hopeless and gave up the struggle; but i want you to know that in the service to-day i've had the strength and courage given me to begin again." [illustration: _the british community at atbazar, siberia, after morning service during the bishop's visit._] is it not worth while to have a travelling chaplain go about and find such experiences as that waiting for him in many places? can any one possibly think that those who have to live on the continent of europe, because of some fanciful ideas of intrusion upon the jurisdiction of another church, should be deprived of the services of their own, and find, as they inevitably do find, that they are ever accepting for themselves a lowered standard and a dimmer ideal? i remember a girl whom i had confirmed in switzerland coming at a later visit to tell me that, after six months of happy life as a communicant, she had begun to "fall away," and now seemed to have "lost all interest." what was she to do? on being questioned, it appeared that at the end of those six months she had gone to stay with a family in the country, where there was no english church within any possible distance, and she said:-- "i missed the services at first, but i _found gradually that i could do without them_; and so i grew not to mind." i advised her, wherever she was in future, when not able to attend a service, carefully to use the communion office at eight o'clock, and think of all those who were in church, and realize her unity with them, and reverently and slowly think over all the special parts of the service, and she would find herself eager enough to go to church at the usual time when opportunity again presented itself, as she would have wished every time she was reading the service that she was having the complete experience. she would not "find that she could do without it." spiritual things are spiritually discerned. and if we drop away from those means of grace which help us to be spiritually minded, there will certainly in time be little, if any, spiritual experiences to show. this chapter is not, like the others, concerned with russian people and affairs; but i have ventured to write it because without it english churchmen would not be able to understand fully the influence we are exercising upon russian life and thought even now, and which, in far fuller measure, we are expecting to exercise in the time to come. the duma (i was assured in when calling at the ministry of the interior in petrograd) have been preparing a bill for some time to give the anglican church in russia a legal status and recognition such as it has never yet had! we shall be glad and thankful enough to have it, but i am far more happy and grateful in the thought of the real _spiritual_ influence our church possesses and exercises, even without that legal status, both in the permanent chaplaincies and in those distant places visited from time to time. just as in its legislation, it is not so much the law as it stands which determines the state of things social in russia, as the trend and aim and purpose of every new enactment, and the present actual life of the people. all that is in one direction in russia. government becomes ever more and more constitutional. it is the same with respect to religious life and prospects. there has been no change whatever in the actual formal and legal relations of the russian and anglican churches; but surely and evidently, in sympathy, mutual knowledge, regard, and respect, every year, they are drawing more closely and affectionately together. i cannot close this chapter without expressing my deep and grateful appreciation of the help and support given to our work by the russia society. it is no longer a trading company but still possesses large funds and, it seems to me, they must all be spent in support of our anglican church in russia. it is impossible even to think of what that work would be without the help given to us by the russia society, and the british factory in petrograd. footnotes: [ ] _contemporary review_, november, . chapter xi the jews the jewish question was the first of many i was called upon to consider after crossing the russian frontier, for my first service within the empire was the confirmation of a jew. he was of the educated class, and particularly attractive; and as he bowed low over my hand and kissed it with a singular grace of manner the western part of europe seemed already far away. it was at warsaw, where, as at cracow--the ancient capital of poland--the jews form a larger and more influential part of the population than in any other european city. it will surprise many, no doubt, to hear that, though the anglican church has no _legal_ status as yet, our chaplain at warsaw has the sole and exclusive right of baptizing those jews who are russian subjects, and wish to be received into the christian church. _any_ jew who wishes to become a christian, if in the russian empire, must go to warsaw and receive baptism from the anglican chaplain, maintained there for many years by the london society for promoting christianity among the jews. [illustration: _the archbishop of warsaw._] this young russian, with his wife, had travelled a great distance for his baptism and confirmation, and, if i remember rightly, was leaving russia in the course of time. he was able, therefore, to receive confirmation in our own church, although russian subjects, if jewish, on receiving baptism from us--it is a strange anomaly that we hope will soon cease--are expected to choose whether they will next be received into the communion of the lutheran, roman catholic, or orthodox churches. none of these, of course, attract them after receiving instruction and baptism in our own church, and, on that account, no doubt, many of them have reverted again to their old religion. the passport system in russia is an admirable and comprehensive one, and as soon as a hebrew christian abandons his faith and returns to judaism, he is required by law to report it at once to the local authority, in order that his passport may be altered; and on his doing so a notice is at once dispatched to our chaplain at warsaw that a pen is to be drawn through his name in the baptismal register. it was painfully affecting to turn over the pages of that register, and see those ominous-looking lines drawn from top to bottom of various entries. one could not see anything like it anywhere else, i suppose. it carried the mind back to the early days of the faith, and to that sad class known as the _lapsi_ ("lapsed"); to the lament over demas, who had forsaken s. paul and gone back to the world; and to such promises as "i will not blot out his name from the book of life." there is much in the work at warsaw to take one back thus in spirit to the days of the apostles. one felt it a little at the confirmation itself, when saying the sentence which accompanies the laying on of hands, first in german for the young jew, and then in english for the girl who followed him; but most of all on the sunday evening, when the services of the day in the little chapel were all over, and everything was quiet. that is the time always given to "inquirers"; and they came one after another, that first sunday of mine at warsaw, stealing in, just as nicodemus came by night and for the same reason, sometimes singly, sometimes husband and wife together, and sometimes a whole family--the children going off to join the chaplain's children, while the parents came to us. when the room in time was quite full we began by singing a few hymns in german, after which the chaplain prayed for guidance and the sense of god's presence; and then a most interesting time followed. he took the holy gospel for the day, every one reading a verse in turn--in german--during which questions were encouraged if the literal meaning of the verse was not clear. it was a particularly arresting gospel for those present to consider, as it included our lord's words, "if i by the finger of god cast out devils, no doubt the kingdom of god is come upon you." there is no more striking symbol for a jew than that of the "finger of god," nor anything more absorbingly interesting than "god's kingdom"; and i have always thankfully felt that i was fortunate that night. the chaplain of warsaw is not one who loses or wastes opportunities, and he did his very best with that one. it was an extraordinarily interesting scene as i watched the faces of that little gathering of men and women gazing with the keenest and most penetrating of expressions upon their teacher; and now and then, as he mentioned psalm or prophecy, taking up their bibles to find the passage named. then, satisfied as to its apposite character, they would look up again as eagerly as before. i seemed to be back again in spirit sharing in one of those apostolic scenes of the new testament, when one or another "preached christ unto them," and they, as at berea, received the teaching "with readiness of mind, and searched the scriptures whether those things were so." just such little gatherings as that at warsaw, and in just such places, to which people came stealthily yet expectantly, were addressed by barnabas and paul, by silas and john mark. one feels now when listening to a chapter from the acts of the apostles, or reading it, as if one had been there and seen and heard. it is only a year since i was once more at warsaw, and again it was sunday evening, with the holy communion, confirmation, and other services of the day all over, and just as before the jewish inquirers came quietly in, in ones and twos and threes, only this time the gathering was larger and the attention keener even than it had been three years before. the same order was followed, the singing of hymns in german, prayer--those present were encouraged to pray in very simple words--the reading of a passage from the new testament, and then its exposition; but though it was the same faithful teaching of the faith, or preaching christ, there was a difference both in what was said and in the questions asked. it was no longer the messiah, or the christ fulfilling messianic psalm or evangelical prophecy, but the living christ of to-day. it was a sight not soon, if ever, to be forgotten, those keen jewish faces, such as our lord himself looked into daily during his ministry, eager, expectant, hopeful, while questioning again, as in the synagogue of capernaum, how it could be possible for him to be not only way and truth, but _life_; how he could in any comprehensible sense be said to _live_ in his people, and how any one could with any conviction say or sing "and now i live in him." it made one feel that even there, in far-away and comparatively unknown russia, that same spirit is moving upon the waters to whom the _quarterly review_ gave its testimony in the october number of , when it stated at the close of a remarkable review of modern german and other critical literature that the net result of modern negative criticism had only been "to make the living christ a greater reality to-day than he has been since the days of the apostles." so it was at warsaw that night. they wanted to understand the christ whom s. paul not only taught but had _experienced_ ever since his conversion, and which enabled and impelled him to say, "i live, yet not i, but christ liveth in me." the jews have had hard experiences in russia, and the story of their wrongs would take long to tell; but let us hope that now there is no reason for wishing to tell it. we are hoping that in more ways than one russia is going to "forget those things which are behind, and reach forward to those things which are before," and which are worthy of the aims of a great nation. few nobler things have been said during the war than general botha's counsel to his fellow-countrymen when the beyers and de wet revolution had come to a fitting end. he reminded them that what had happened was within their own household, and their own affair, and that the only right course was to let by-gones be by-gones, and "cultivate a spirit of tolerance and forbearance and merciful oblivion" with respect to the errors of the past. a year ago, if writing upon russian life of to-day, one could not but have touched upon the hardships of the jews who have to live "within the pale" in russia, and have been alternately tolerated and persecuted, even massacred within recent years; and one would have had to own that there was something to be said upon the russian side as well, even if not agreeing with it. but this is now no longer necessary. in russia as in south africa we must say, "let by-gones be by-gones, and let the spirit of tolerance and forbearance and merciful oblivion" blot out the errors of the past for russian and for jew. it should be remembered also that the devout jew is as mystical in his religion as the russian, who must surely now and then, as he looks toward the seven-branched candlestick within his own sacrarium, or listens to the psalms, be reminded that his devotion has a jewish source. a jewish confirmation with none but jews in the congregation is a great experience. twice i have had it at wandsbeck, just outside hamburg, where, under pastor dolman of our london society, the work is entirely for and amongst jews. at my first visit there were about fourteen candidates, fine young men from many countries, one or two being german and austrian, and several in uniform. as we entered, the large congregation, without rising, began to sing a german hymn, slowly and softly, and at once the whole atmosphere of the place became deeply devotional. everything was in german, and though i confirm in german i cannot venture to preach or address in the language; and so in the address pastor dolman stood beside me to interpret, and so masterly and rapid was this interpretation that the candidates seemed to be listening to me, rather than to him, from first to last. there was no mistaking the spirit of that congregation, nor the character of the service. every one was in it, every one deeply interested and attentive, and eager to be spiritually helped. the consciousness of it seemed to embrace every one present in the most convincing way, and again seemed to carry us back to apostolic days, making one wonder whether amongst those rugged and strong-featured men and women there might not be another aquila and priscilla, ready for work if god should bring it to them; whether amongst those youths there might not be another timotheus ready to gladden the heart of any one who should see what was in him and take him in hand for god. "why shouldn't there be amongst this eager-looking crowd," i found myself thinking, "another apollos, or even a s. paul?" [illustration: _a polish jew._] i shall always be glad also to have visited cracow, and taken a service there in what we shall probably soon be speaking of as "the old days before the war." nowhere, i suppose, in europe does the jew walk the streets of a city with the same confidence and assurance as he does in this ancient capital of poland and burial-place of its kings. the jews form a very large part of its population, fill the foremost places of commercial importance, and show most unmistakably in every look and gesture how strong, whenever it can find expression, is the jewish pride of race. there is a very small christian community both here and at lemberg--or luow as we must call it now--but there are two licensed laymen to deal with jewish inquirers, and we had a celebration of holy communion, and conference together two years ago. i saw then another side of the russian or polish jew, for whether he is in poland proper or that part of the old kingdom which is called galicia, or in the western part of russia--he is not legally allowed anywhere else in the empire--the jew, of course, is always essentially the same. it is most important to keep this from slipping out of sight when thinking of them. i was reading a short time ago a most depressing account of life in some jewish villages in a certain part of russia, of the dirt and degradation of the people there, their cunning and greed, their hang-dog expression of countenance, and disgusting clothing. every one is familiar with the stories told of the usurer and the extortioner who suck the blood of their inexperienced and unsuspecting victims, and it is not for me to question their accuracy. we may all admit that shylock is a type. but still environment plays its part, and it would be difficult to picture any other result from the treatment which has been meted out to jews in russia than the degradation which has followed. a very different picture, however, is given for us by mr. rothay reynolds, in the report of a _russian_ official, sent out by his government to visit the settlements of russian jews in the argentine republic. he made a formal report, but it was no dry and formal statement, but a real picture, painted in glowing colours, of the "change wrought in them by the free and open life of the new land," and he described with enthusiasm the rich farms possessed and admirably cultivated by the former children of the _ghetto_. he drew a contrast between the peaky, timorous jewish boys of the russian pale and the lusty jewish youngsters astride half-tamed horses on the ranche. and the settlers spoke of russia as our colonists speak of the old country, as "home." no jew _in russia_ dreams of calling himself a russian, but when he goes and settles in another land far away, and prospers there, then he can speak of russia as "home." there are , , jews in the empire, and , of them rallied to the colours, we are told, at the general mobilization. it may be claimed, therefore, that they have "done their bit." will this count for nothing after the war? we are assured by one authority after another that the war only precipitated the proclamation of autonomy for poland, and gave it wider application and comprehension. we are told, and i for one believe it, that the government have been preparing for some time to give constitutional rule to finland as well as to poland, and that the old idea of "russifaction" is entirely abandoned and set aside. all this is in keeping with what has followed, in some cases swiftly, in others slowly, but in all important matters which concern the well-being of the state, _in some measure or other_, since . this being so we should expect that the jews will also be admitted before long to equal civil and political rights with other russian subjects of the emperor, and i feel sure the hopes will not be disappointed. the jewish revolutionaries in the past have been the most dangerous of all, and i believe there has never been any conspiracy of real moment in which they have not taken a share; but there again, as we think of their degradation in country villages, we cannot but ask, "how could anything else be expected of them? treated as they have been, their boldest spirits would be sure to plot." the jews with us are loyal and patriotic citizens and though proud--as they have a right to be--of their race, they are proud also of their nationality. so it will be in russia when she gives them freedom. none will be more patriotic than they, amongst all the mixed races which make up the empire. they have given a foretaste of this already. a writer in the _contemporary review_ last december (gabriel costa), in telling us something of what "freeing six millions" would mean, points out that while no russian jewish soldier could hold commissioned rank, nor aspire even to be the conductor of a military band--though none could be more fitted--nor be accepted as an army surgeon, yet when the call to arms came great numbers of jewish doctors were summoned to the front, and obeyed the call. he also tells us how jews of all social grades contributed freely to the red cross funds, whilst--most wonderful of all--the jews of kishineff, where one of the most terrible of all russia's "_pogroms_" or massacres (the word means literally destruction) took place, offered up prayers in its synagogues for the success of the russian army. it is a very significant and instructive fact of life that where great issues have to be faced together, whether it is by few or many, those barriers which have been considered fundamental, of race, religion, and politics, have a strange way of disappearing and sinking out of sight. sometimes it is disconcerting, but often it is most encouraging and even inspiring. and so when jews are confronted by the tremendous issues of this war they find that they can pray for those towards whom but lately they have been burning with a deep sense of indignant wrong. russians and poles have been at enmity together for generations now, but in face of the common peril and the common foe all this is forgotten, and the russian officers sent to head-quarters soon after the invasion of poland their grateful recognition of the heroism of the polish peasant children who made a regular practice of carrying water to the russian trenches, often under fire and at imminent peril of their lives, while steadfastly refusing all payment. so with jew and christian. the death of the chief rabbi of lyons on the battle-field has been told in papers all over the world since it first appeared, last october, in the _jewish world_. "the chief rabbi was bringing spiritual consolation to the wounded jewish soldiers on the battle-field, when he was called to the side of a dying roman catholic trooper. the dying man, evidently mistaking the rabbi for a priest of his own faith, begged him to hold the crucifix before his eyes and to give him his blessing. while holding a crucifix and whispering words of comfort to the mortally wounded soldier the rabbi was shot dead!" no less appealing and encouraging for those who long to see nationalities and great races appreciating and admiring each other's national temperaments and racial characteristics are some of the incidents which gabriel costa gives us in his _freeing six millions_. "first to attract notice," he says, "is the exploit of a jewish medical student from wilna, named osnas, invalided home on account of wounds received in saving the colours of his regiment during the fighting in east prussia. 'do everything that is possible to save the life of osnas,' telegraphed his commander to the hospital authorities. the medical student has been honoured by the bestowal of the military cross of s. george. "when events come to be sifted, we shall probably hear of similar instances of russo-jewish patriotism. as for our own brave soldiers, there can be nothing more convincing, nothing more gratifying than the emphatic reply of a wounded corporal of the black watch to a 'voice' in a crowd of sympathetic londoners. 'and the jews,' queried the 'voice,' 'what are they doing?' the highlander replied, without a moment's hesitation, 'doing? well, their duty. we had three with us, and bonnier lads and braver i don't wish to see. they fought just splendid.' "no less arresting was the avowal of a private of the berkshire regiment. 'we had ten in our company,' he said, 'all good fighters, and six won't be seen again. so don't say a word against the jews.'" why has russia's attitude hitherto, then, been, and for so long, one of rigid exclusion? the pale, to which they are limited, includes only the ten provinces of russian poland, and fifteen provinces in western russia, and the arrangements were made first by the government of catherine the great in , and definitely settled in . even there, though by law they are entitled to live and follow their particular tastes and callings freely, yet we are told that "harassing laws restrict their initiative and make even their right of residence within the pale itself become something of a chimera." why is this policy of vexatious exclusion so persistently followed? we are told that it is because the jewish element is a sordid and deteriorating influence, bad for the local and national life alike, and a hindrance to the nation's progress. this, however, was clearly not the view of m. de plehve when, as minister of the interior, he received a deputation of representative jews petitioning for an extension of civil rights. he is reported to have said to them, "it is not true that the tsar and myself regard the jews as an inferior race. on the contrary, we regard them as exceptionally smart and clever. but if we admitted jews to our universities, without restriction, they would overshadow our own russian students and dominate our own intellectual life. i do not think it would be fair to allow the minority thus to obtain an advantage over the majority in this way." he did not seem to see that, as those in question were _russian subjects_, the very ability to which he gave his testimony was being prevented from enriching the national life. this is a fallacy as old as history itself, and pursued by that shortsighted pharaoh on the nile of whom it is significantly said, by way of explanation of his folly, that "he knew not joseph!" as we read the records of scripture--and the historical books are for the most part extraordinarily dispassionate and free from undue hebrew bias--we see that neither egypt, assyria, chaldea, nor persia had any cause to regret giving jews a place in their national life, and that their fatal mistakes, even with the jews themselves, lay in _not_ following jewish counsels. the jews have what can only be called a genius for patriotism, and in a way not to be explained they breathe in this spirit very deeply towards any nation which bids them welcome, and offers them a home. during my first service in siberia, described in another chapter, at ekaterinburg, three years ago, a young soldier in russian uniform walked slowly into the room, and took his place with a most wondering expression on his face. he was, i found, a young jew, and had received baptism some time before in england. the manoeuvres had brought him to that part of siberia, and to his great amazement he had heard just before, that in that unlikely place, there was to be on the following sunday a service of the church into which he had been baptized. in my conversation with him afterwards, however, it seemed to me that i was speaking not to a jew but to a russian. somewhere, no doubt, he is fighting now, and as patriotically, i feel sure, as his comrades in the ranks. is it good policy to waste such good material as this, to restrict the national assets in this way, and keep back its powers of expansion and development? to ask such questions in these days is to answer them. "i have been discussing," says mr. costa in his most instructive article, "with jewish folk in london, russian men and women of culture and refinement, the prospect of this dream becoming a reality. they incline to the belief that if russia is really in earnest over the matter, and is not propounding it as a strategical move; if, in our time, she will hurl to the dust the grim, hope-excluding walls of the congested pale, she cannot but open up an era of unexampled greatness and prosperity. with that wonderful intellectual force, now held in check, applied to the advancement of russian culture and progress, the empire of the tsar might awaken and expand beyond the most ambitious dreams of its dead-and-gone autocrats." just as we are led to believe that a people gets the government it deserves, so we may well be brought to think that possibly, with respect to this virile and persistent race, the nation gets the jews it deserves. as a policy which is meant to degrade must have a degraded class as its result, so to give every part of the nation's life and equipment full equality of opportunity is to get the best the nation as a whole has to give in return. we are further told by mr. costa that while the russian conscript fights because he must, the english jew fights because he loves to serve the country which has been all in all to him and his. and thus "peer's son and first-born of the _ghetto_ grocer rub shoulders in the task of upholding the nation's honour. in the regulars, cavalry, guards, and territorials, here you shall find the cream of anglo-jewry, the sons of merchant princes, men who hold the purse-strings of nations." i suppose there is no country in the world where so long and so freely, as with us, the jews have been able to give their full contribution to the national life, and who amongst us with any breadth of view and largeness of heart does not see what this has meant to us in the past, and is meaning for us just now? if any race can truthfully say that they have never had a chance that race is the jews. they have not even had a proper chance of accepting christianity. the christian church marvellously soon became their enemy. the nations of the world, without exception, since the first destruction of jerusalem have taken up the same position of antagonism. all this could only have one end. in the new time to come, let all this be forgotten, and the nations use all their national life to the full, and confidently await the result. nothing to my mind can withstand the influence of our christian religion when it is presented as the religion of _christ_ himself; and the modern jew, i for one believe, will find it as hard to go on kicking against the pricks as his great co-religionist did when he encountered the real thing in s. stephen, and was already prepared to receive it as his own experience. nothing can stifle loyal and dutiful service in the hearts of her children when a nation is a true mother to them all. this, in church and state, we can honestly claim is our own aim towards the jews; let us express the emperor's confident hope once more, and say, "some day it will be like that in russia." chapter xii our countrymen in the empire "there are no two powers in the world--and there have been no other two in history--_more_ distinct in character, _less_ conflicting in interests, and more naturally _adapted_ for mutual agreement and support than are britain and russia." it is in the full endorsement of these carefully-weighed statements, from a most experienced authority, that i wish to write this last chapter. looking back upon the past to the days of ivan the terrible and queen elizabeth, and reviewing the situation in the russian empire to-day, and, above all, looking forward to our immediate future, it seems to me that our countrymen in russia have had a real mission to fulfil, and have done it worthily and well. they have, from the first, prepared the ground for what has come up for a great decision to-day, our splendid opportunity of having russia for a friend. and they have not done it by working and planning, still less by scheming for it, but, just as we should wish our countrymen to extend our influence the world over, by being honestly and consistently true to their own nationality, and worthily representing british traditions and ideals. there is one testimony, if i may venture without undue complacency to give it, to the estimation in which our nationality is held, which does not suggest that we are really considered, even by those who have of late so often glibly said it, to be degenerate and decadent and not fit to hold the possessions we have, or shape the destinies of the many peoples who own our rule. i have never met any one yet, of another nationality, who did not think it a compliment to be mistaken for an englishman. it is not often that one can make such a mistake, but i have met dutchmen and germans, and russians also, who just for a moment or two, from dress, expression, or speech have made one feel that they were fellow countrymen. young russians especially, though different in physique, for often they are built on huge lines and are enormously strong, after receiving an english education from a very early age, wearing english dress, being pleased to meet us, may easily be considered to be english; and i doubt if there are amongst them any who would not feel it a compliment to be so considered, while they would resent the same mistake being made with regard to any other nationality. englishmen, therefore, it will be admitted, have kept up the standard in russia, and not let down the good name of their own country. when i was visiting the troitsk gold mine, in --a little short of three days' and three nights' journey, on the other side of moscow--to spend sunday and give them their first english services, the surveyor, when showing me over the mine and its workings on the monday, told me that those large illustrated almanacks which we have, with a picture in the middle and information about church and parish round the sides, and which are so often seen on the walls of the houses of our own working-classes, are also very popular amongst their own work-people. "they are got up in the russian style, of course," he said, "with a russian illustration, and so on; but you will be interested to hear that a great part of the paragraphs round it is given up to describing english ways and ideas, societies and arrangements, and always with appreciation and approval." it must ever be remembered that people who cannot leave their own country must judge largely of other countries by what they see of those who come from them. if english ideas, manners, and customs are held in favour and esteem in russia and siberia it can only be, therefore, because english men and women have worthily represented them there in business and commerce, by upright and moral conduct. it does not usually fall to the lot of a bishop in these days, many-sided as are his sympathies, and various as are the claims made upon his time and attention, to see much of actual business and commercial life, nor have i seen much of the working of factories and workshops in the other countries in our jurisdiction; but in russia and siberia one of the most important parts of a visitation has been the going amongst the members of a staff while they were actually at work so as to get to really know them and their daily lives. outside moscow, for instance, are nearly twenty mills and manufactories; in and outside petrograd are some of the largest and best-managed cotton and thread-mills in the world; at schlusselberg, on the neva, there is a large and splendidly equipped print-works for asiatic trade; at narva, a day's journey from petrograd, is a huge factory employing some , people; and in siberia are the great mining enterprises, some of them employing from , to , people of both sexes. and in all these places the staff is composed of our own countrymen, and numbers, sometimes as many as sixty. i have always, in these places, stayed with the manager, and have had opportunities of meeting the staff socially and for services, going into every department in the mill, factory, or mine, and, as these visits were not short, making friends and learning their experiences, seeing their outlook and often acquiring the history of the enterprise, with all its ups and downs, and successes and failures, from the very first. then i am a guest always at the embassy in petrograd, and am asked to meet all who can be brought together by kind and courteous host and hostess. it is the same with the consul and his wife in other cities. and above all is it so when i am the guest of the chaplain, who takes care that i meet every one in the community who cares about it. i get thus into close touch with all sorts and conditions of men, and am compelled to come to the conclusion that very few can have anything like the opportunity of really knowing, in a general way, his own countrymen in russia as the bishop who goes amongst them. it seems to me, therefore, to be a very real duty to give my tribute to what they have done to make england well spoken of and well thought of throughout the empire. englishmen have succeeded amongst the russians for precisely the same reason that they have succeeded in building up vast colonies and a huge empire. they have developed, and not exploited. there is a way of becoming rich by exploiting resources at the expense of those employed. instances will occur to the reader at once, and probably are not far to seek. i myself have seen this degrading process conducted on a fairly large scale in another hemisphere, while the most terrible and sinister instance of all is that of the congo, out of which king leopold and his agents amassed an immense fortune in a few years, while the natives engaged in collecting the rubber were reduced from twenty millions to a little over seven. no more deadly and wicked _exploitation_ was ever known. true _development_, on the other hand, is cultivating and bringing into use the resources of a country and improving the conditions of life for those who produce them at the same time. we have been accused again and again, even by writers of our own, of exploiting india, and of being indifferent to the true interests of its people. no one has ever known, for the hindoo temperament is vastly different from our own, whether its people did not think so too. but the war has declared it. when india rose as one man and asked only to be allowed to give all for those who had ruled them, then we all knew that we had been understood all over that vast dependency of ours as being there not only to get but to give, not to exploit but to develop. is it not true of egypt also, where the _fellaheen_ along the nile are of the same race in general habits and employments as their ancestors of thousands of years ago, though different ruling races have come and gone, that in all those ages they have never enjoyed true liberty, and never reaped the fruit of their labours and toil without oppression until they came under british rule? it need not weigh at all with us that this is not known or acknowledged, as it ought to be in egypt. we are not given, fortunately, to worrying as to what other people think about us. perhaps it might be better for us sometimes if we were. but we know that in time egypt will learn, as india has learnt, that we are amongst them not to exploit them, but to develop their resources and to improve in every way that is possible their own character and condition. thus has it been also in russia; and i felt a very thankful man, proud of my country and nationality, when, a year ago, i could say to the emperor of russia, "my countrymen are in siberia, sir, not to exploit but to help to develop russia's resources and its people." "i know it," he quietly said. and i gave him the following instance to show him how rapidly and on what a large scale this is being done. some distance to the left of the orenburg line which runs down from samara to tashkend in turkestan, and not far from orenburg itself, only reached at present by motor-car and camel, is a place called tanalyk, an english property. not much more than a year ago there were there a british engineer, surveyor, and assistants, with a little handful of nomads, kirghiz i should think, looking on and giving their labour. they were engaged in prospecting, and drilling for copper. now, even in this short time, the preliminary work of a great mine has been begun, and there are from eighteen to twenty thousand russians engaged in it. accommodation has been provided, schools are going up, their church and priest are there, medical and surgical treatment is within the reach of all. there are stores where they can buy everything they need in the way of food, dress, appliances, all sorts of conveniences and comforts that they have never seen before, at prices which give no profit to the company. those who used to taste meat perhaps once a fortnight can have it daily, for they have good wages. they are becoming more handy as workmen and improved in physique, and the next generation will be better still. education and the amenities of life are increasing their self-respect. the determination of the staff not to overlook bad work, their wish to see them improve in character, to set them an example in their own family life, are all having their effect. "is it possible," i asked, "to put too high a value on such good work as this which adds to russia's enterprise, wealth, and resources, and makes all those thousands of men, women, and children better subjects of your majesty and the empire?" the managing director of the russo-asiatic corporation, which began its development with tanalyk, and has gone on to other and more important developments still, told me that when local option was granted, two years ago, he himself was given the sole right of deciding whether those thousands of russians should have _vodka_ or not, although it was at that time a government monopoly, and important as a source of revenue. he decided that _vodka_ should not be sold, but that a very light and harmless beer might be provided for those who wished to have it. it was only to be sold by one man, however, and if an instance of drunkenness occurred he was to lose his right to sell. the amount paid for rent has been spent on a people's house for the recreation of all employed at the mine. [illustration: _camels at work--summer._] another manager friend of mine told me that he had helped his people to become more sober by selling _vodka_ at his own stores at a lower price than that of the government. it sounds a strange way of doing it, no doubt, but the sale was restricted to wednesdays and saturdays. when, therefore, on the other days there came would-be purchasers anxious to have _vodka_, with the plea that there was a wedding or a christening or some other domestic festivity at which it would be needed just to complete the enjoyment, they were always told that they could not have it except on the stated days. this was not hardship, for the government shop was open, though the higher price was demanded there. this they would not pay and so went without it, and yet the christening or wedding passed off no less happily--perhaps even more happily; and thus, gradually, amongst the russian staff, and through them the work-people, there grew up the idea that the results of _vodka_ were to be avoided. nothing could be more encouraging than the experience of the management of this particular mine in trying, by example and discipline, to lift their foremen and subordinates of the staff out of what used to be thought a perfectly natural and pardonable weakness, but now throughout the empire is being acknowledged as a national sin. it will surely and easily be seen by any thinking reader that this initiative on the one hand, and responsiveness on the other, promise well for our future relations with each other, and explains, perhaps, how the russian _entente_ has passed quite naturally into an alliance, which some of us hope and believe will be permanent and stable for many generations. our _entente_ with france has been indeed an _entente cordiale_, and it is now more cordial and friendly than ever; but it is not easy to conceive of anything in the future beyond an _entente_ and alliance. we can be real and staunch and faithful friends as becomes those who are near neighbours, but little else opens out before us. is it possible to think of anything between ourselves and germany, even when the war is over and many years have passed, except the gradual removal of sadly embittered feelings and outraged convictions and beliefs? our ideas of what can rightly be called world-power and world-forces are so diametrically opposed that it passes the imagination of man to conceive what great world-purpose we and they could undertake together, for some time. but directly we think of ourselves and russia as side by side, and with confidence in each other, there is no limit to what we and they may hope to accomplish together for our own peoples, for humanity, and for god. not only have we constitutional and religious ideals in common, but our own countrymen are already at work all over the richest and most promising part of their vast empire, and upon the only right lines any one can adopt if the object in view is to increase the resources, character, and ability of a people at the same time. the englishman of the ordinary and normal type cannot be content to look upon the man he employs as merely a wage-earner. he wants, as he would put it, "to give him a leg-up" besides, and our countrymen in siberia have sought just to give that "leg-up" to their employs, to better their conditions of life and educate their children; by precept and example to give them wholesome recreations; to help them to see that there is nothing laughable but everything that is disgusting in such a vice as drunkenness; and to help them in every way they can to manly self-respect. this is tremendously far-reaching in its results. the christian paradox is fulfilled here also. "to lose is to save, to save is to lose." to try and get all one can out of work-people and give as little, is to have little enough to show by way of good results. to think not of the work alone which the wages claim, but of the man who is to do it; to try one's utmost to make him more of a man for his being employed and to lift up his self-respect, is straightway to increase the value of everything he does, and of the work for which his wages are paid. the explanation of "dividend or no dividend" is far simpler than it seems, and the new testament contributes to it. if only a little additional value is placed upon the manhood and womanhood of those employed, and a little increase given to self-respect, responsibility, and conscientiousness where hundreds and thousands are employed, then it requires no great powers of insight to see how rapidly what has hitherto been a failure may become a great commercial success. i attach the greatest importance to the fact that our countrymen in siberia whom it has been my great privilege to know and make my friends are conducting their great enterprises as honourable and chivalrous men, and have, with public-spirited russians, like-minded with themselves, laid the foundations of a true anglo-russian friendship and agreement. in this i think we are extremely fortunate in the opportunity which world events have brought us, and through no effort of our own. our own people at home, for the most part, are probably not yet convinced that this is our god-given opportunity. i have already freely owned my former prejudices and misconceptions, and explained how quickly they passed away, and i know that others must feel and think as i used to do myself, and that they have had comparatively little as yet to clear their minds, though i trust what is written in these pages may be a help in that direction. but this opportunity which has come to us was possible for russia's great neighbour at one time, as she was told by one of the most far-seeing men of europe, but it was carelessly and even contemptuously refused. great opportunities for great nations never return. just as bismarck pleaded for friendliness with england and against naval expansion for his own country, so also he was quite alive to the possibilities of russia and its "wonderful materials for making history if it could take the virility of germany into its national character." the emperor william, however, differed with his great chancellor upon this as upon other policies he advocated, maintaining that the "sclavonic peoples are not a nation but only soil out of which a nation with an historic mission may be grown." we in this country are not as alive to the magnificent opportunity which is now afforded us as are our countrymen in russia who know its people and its potentialities. and all grades of russian society, from the emperor and his court downwards, also know it, and all who are intelligent in their patriotism desire it. this is what a russian[ ] wrote at the beginning of , when no one was even dreaming of what the close of the year was to see:-- "all progressive russia is united in desiring a _rapprochement_ with england, because there is a universal belief that the influence of english constitutional ideas on russian internal politics will be most beneficial to the interests of the people and to the general welfare of the country. being one of the youngest constitutional countries, russia is holding out a hand of friendship to the mother of all constitutions--england; and she hopes that good relations between them will bear much fruit. this, on the other hand, explains to us why all reactionaries in russia are so up in arms against the _entente_ with england. there is also a widespread opinion all over russia that english interests require russia to be a strong and civilized country with a firmly established constitutional government. if england wishes to have an ally that ally should be a strong one, and russia cannot be strong so long as reaction is in full swing. the russian liberals hope that constant intercourse between the two countries will lead to a better mutual understanding, and will ultimately improve the state of affairs now prevailing in russia." [illustration: _camels at work--winter._] france is russia's ally, and well and faithfully have they both kept the terms of their alliance. we are a new friend only, but it was the british flag the populace demanded, at the beginning of the war, in petrograd. they went in vast numbers to the british embassy, and asked for it; and our ambassador (sir george buchanan), though he had only two, handed one of them down, asking them to take care of and return it. they received it with the utmost reverence, bent down and kissed it, as many as could get near, and then, in procession, went cheering and singing through the streets of the capital, the british flag carried high before them. during the visit of the fleet earlier in the year to cronstadt a party of _moujiks_ were in a boat within the harbour; and, in their excitement to get near and see all they could of a british warship, they upset their boat, and were thrown struggling into the water. instantly some twenty of our bluejackets (officers and men) dived amongst them, and in the shortest possible time had them safe in their righted boat again. this made a great impression in russia, and, though news travels slowly in that vast country, this story went everywhere, continually evoking the comment, "then it's true, all that we've been told about them--and their _officers_ dived in to save the lives of poor peasant folk!" it is a tremendous link between us and them to feel, as they do, that, while claiming all the rights of rank and authority, we feel human ties to be supreme. and just as we read of the british officer early in the war lying wounded in both legs, but lifting himself up with difficulty and crying, "now _my bonny lads_, shoot straight and let them have it!" so we read of the russian officer who addresses his men under similar circumstances as "little pigeons"--a special russian term of endearment. thus, while there is leadership in the officers of both countries, yet towards their men there is, as boys would say, "no side." we have only now to read and watch the course of events to keep free from prejudice and suspicion, as we try and discern the signs of the times, and the forces already at work will quite naturally and normally bring the two peoples together in enduring friendship. it is a most significant thing, surely, that three writers so utterly different from each other in their whole outlook upon life as the great surgeon, the popular novelist, and the independent thinker[ ] should go to the holy land for totally different objects, and _all_ find the russians, above all other nationalities, get very close to their hearts, both for what they were themselves, and for what it was so evidently in them to become. the most important link of all, however, and that which i have kept in mind in everything i have written, between ourselves and russia, is that our two races are at heart deeply religious people. the difference between us is that the devout russian _shows_ his religion in every possible way, while the englishman, with his characteristic reserve, seems to hide it or to speak about it with difficulty. when i was talking last year with a british officer in a specially responsible position, and religion came to be mentioned, he said very shyly and with hesitation, "well, i have my bit, but i don't talk much about it, though it's everything to me, and i could not live without it." it's "everything" to us and to the russians, though our public expressions of it are so entirely different. and in russia once again, as, in former experiences in my episcopal work, i have found that the religious men--when they are the real thing--are all round the best men. and thus i come to the end, hopefully confident about our relations with the russians and our work in the world together. this book was asked of me, and pressed upon me at a specially busy and harassing time, and as it has had to be written amidst many distractions and interruptions its imperfections and deficiencies, as i well know, are many, yet it has been a most congenial task to write it. it has been written throughout with the one desire, while giving as true a description of russia and its people's life as i could, to lead my own countrymen to view them with a friendly eye and a kindly heart. this is essential if we are to have sound and stable relations with each other. treaties and other diplomatic agreements are indeed mere "scraps of paper" without it, and when the prime minister addressed the deputies from the russian duma at a luncheon given them in the house of commons in , he truly and appropriately said that it is not enough to let governments sign treaties and agreements, but the nations themselves must have feelings of friendship for each other, without which all agreements and alliances are not worth the paper on which they are written. i believe--firmly and thankfully i believe it--that our feelings towards those of whom i have written are already those of sympathy and friendship. i am sure it is so in their feelings towards us, and that we are in consequence going to find in russia not only a new ally but a very faithful one, and a loyal and true friend for many generations. footnotes: [ ] boris lebedev, in the february number of the _russian review_. [ ] sir frederick treves, mr. robert hichens, and mr. stephen graham. index archangel, , . berlin, social conditions in, - . catharine the great, . cleanliness of russians, - . climate of russia, - ; of siberia, - . convict labour, . duma, the, , , , . ekaterinburg, , , , ; convent at, ; bishop of, , . elizabeth, the grand duchess, , , - . english church, position of in russia, - , - ; relations with russian church, - , - , - ; work of in russia, - , - , - ; relations with the jews, sqq. germany, contrasted with russia, . _ikons_, ubiquity of, - , , , ; at the kremlin, ; "worship of" by peasants, ; in churches, , ; the blessing of, . jews in russia, ; religious work among, , sqq.; persecution of, - , ; as soldiers, - , . kirghiz, the, , , , , sqq., . kremlin, the, , . language, the russian, - . libau, , , - . magdalena, abbess, . moscow, , , , , , , , , , , ; the archbishop of, - ; english church at, . neva, the, , ; the blessing of, - . nicholas ii, , , , sqq., - , - . nicholas, the grand duke, , . orthodox church in russia, relations with the state, - ; clergy of, sqq.; their relations with the people, - ; services, - , - ; arrangement of churches, - . passport system, the, - . peter the great, , . petrograd, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ; english church at, . poles, relations with russia, , - , . riga, , , , . _samovar_, the, , . siberia, , , , , , , , , , , , , sqq., , , ; the prisons in, - . steppes, the, , sqq. students, problem of, sqq.; numbers of, ; at geneva and elsewhere, - . tea, how drunk in russia, . tiumen, abbot of, - . travelling in russia, - ; by sledge, ; on the steppes, - . tsarevitch, the, - . _vodka_, prohibition of, , , , ; attraction of, , - . volga, the, , - , . warsaw, , , , sqq.; archbishop of, - . wolves, , - . [illustration: _map illustrating the author's journeys in russia_] printed by a. r. mowbray & co. ltd. london and oxford transcribers' notes page viii: in the list of illustrations, page for the convent at ekaterinburg corrected from to page , : spelling of russification/russifaction as in original page : intercommunion standardised to inter-communion page : anteroom standardised to ante-room page : out-door standardised to outdoor page : tarntass corrected to tarantass page : tolstoy's standardised to tolstoi's russian revolution by alexander petrunkevitch, samuel northrup, harper frank,and alfred golder the jugo-slav movement by robert joseph kerner preface whatever may be its final outcome the russian revolution of bids fair to remain one of the great events of modern history. its consequences are still immeasurable and today to many they appear as fraught with menace as with hope. they have within less than a year led a mighty empire to the brink of dissolution and no man can foretell where and how the process will end for worse or for better. the russian revolution saved the central powers at the moment when their prospect looked darkest, but on the other hand it facilitated the entrance of the united states into the war as one for liberty and democracy. time has yet to show whether the loss or the gain has been the greater for the allied cause and for mankind. it will be paid for at a heavy price but our hope cannot easily be shaken that sooner or later an event so full of promise for the misruled millions of the autocratic empire of the tsar will mark a step forward, not backward, in the progress of the world. the whole story of the sudden out-break in petrograd which in little more than a day swept away the fabric of imperial government will not soon be told, if ever. all real information on the subject is timely and valuable. we need such studies as those contained in the present volume, in order that we may understand what has happened, and why it has happened. the rise of the modern jugo-slav movement offers us a very different picture. the subject and even the name are new to most people, the scale is much smaller; the events have been less dramatic. but the unconquerable resistance which a small disjointed nationality has offered throughout the ages to ill fortune, oppression, and to attempts to obliterate it entirely arouses our admiration. the movement too was intimately connected with the outbreak of the present world war which cannot be understood without taking it into account. it still represents only an ardent hope for the future but when the day of peace and justice comes no permanent allotment can be made of the lands east of the adriatic that shall not give it at least some satisfaction. archibald cary coolidge. march , . the role of the intellectuals in the liberating movement in russia by alexander petrunkevitch in an interview dated november , and published in the _new york times_ in a special cable from petrograd, leon trotzky in defending the attitude of the people toward the bolsheviki _coup d'etat_ is reported to have said substantially the following: "all the bourgeoisie is against us. the greater part of the intellectuals is against us or hesitating, awaiting a final outcome. the working class is wholly with us. the army is with us. the peasants, with the exception of exploiters, are with us. the workmen's and soldiers' government is a government of workingmen, soldiers, and peasants against the capitalists and landowners." on the other hand my father, ivan petrunkevitch, floorleader of the constitutional democratic party in the first duma and since that time owner and publisher of the petrograd daily _rech_ writes in a private letter dated june : "... the present real government, i. e., the council of soldiers' and workmen's deputies, whose leaders are neither soldiers nor workmen, but intellectuals, etc." nothing has happened during the months intervening between the letter and the interview to change the composition of the council appreciably. it is true that kerensky who was vice-president of the council has been meanwhile deposed; that tshcheidze had to relinquish the presidency in the council to trotzky long before kerensky's downfall; but the leaders of the council still are intellectuals, are well educated men, some of them well known writers on political and economic questions and withal very different from the masses which they lead and which they purport to represent. in justice to those who had to give way to the lenine-trotzky crowd of supporters, i wish to state emphatically that i do not want to put them on the same plane. tseretelli, plekhanov, tshcheidze, and their co-workers are men of great courage, high ideals, and personal integrity. on the other hand their successors in power are men of a totally different type. the integrity of many of their number has been openly questioned, the accusations, published & broadcast, remained unanswered, and no suit for libel was brought by the men thus accused. lenine was put under suspicion of having accepted german help and of having planned with germany's agents the disorganization of the russian army. it has been even charged on apparently good evidence that the leaflets distributed at the front were printed with german money. trotzky was accused by miliukov in the _rech_ (june ) of having received $ , from german-americans for the purpose of organizing the attack on kerensky's government. ganetsky was forced to leave denmark by an order of the danish government, having been convicted of dishonest dealings in a danish court. zinoviev is accused of forgery. others are also under suspicion which has been only increased by the arrest and imprisonment of burtzev who is known for his untiring efforts to hunt down traitors to the cause of the russian revolution and who had important evidence in his possession. it is also a remarkable fact that the majority of the present leaders are known broadly only under assumed names. lenine's true name is uljanov, trotzky's--bronstein, zinoviev's--apfelbaum, sukhanov's--gimmer, kamenev's--rosenfeld, steklov's--nakhamkis, and a number of others whose identity is not even always known. trotzky's assertion that the workmen's and soldiers' government is a government of workingmen, soldiers, and peasants is therefore nothing but a perversion of facts. there is, however, nothing extraordinary in the fact itself that intellectuals are the real leaders of all russian parties. better education and wider knowledge of the affairs of the world have always appealed to the dark masses who realize only dimly their own desires and grasp at any concrete formulation of reforms which contains a tangible promise or seems to express those desires. at the same time they often put their own meaning into the words of their leaders, which is true even of factory workers in the larger cities. as for the peasants, representing about per cent of the entire population, they are still very poorly educated, questions of national import remain outside their horizon, and even their language is not the language of the educated russian, inasmuch as it lacks the rich vocabulary of modern life and is devoid of the very conceptions to which this vast treasury of words applies. their mind, great as it is in its potentialities, still moves in the furrows of familiar ideas abhorring things too much at variance with inherited traditions or actual experience. yet in the turmoil of revolutionary activity the peasants are going to have their say and may become the decisive factor, because they are voters and are casting their votes for those leaders whose words they believe to contain the greatest promise and the least menace of a general disruption of their accustomed mode of life. we are thus brought back, for the present at least, to the necessity of recognizing that even the state of anarchy under which russia is laboring, even the rule of the renowned proletariat so much trumpeted about by lenine and trotzky, is in reality the work of intellectuals, an answer of the masses to the call of their leaders, a groping for principles beyond their perception. it suffices a very casual examination of the programs and resolutions of various political parties to see the truth of this statement. they are expressive of the opinions of the leaders, not of the masses; are couched in the language of the educated russian, not in that of the workman or peasant and, except for the concluding slogans like "peace, bread, and land," are alien to the very spirit of the masses. in this respect all parties are confronted with the same difficulty since all strive to get the support of the masses, yet have to express principles evolved through careful and extensive study of national, political, and economic problems, strange to the uneducated mind. for the same reason the methods of surmounting the difficulty differ in many respects and are characteristic of each party. the conservative intellectuals of russia early realized the necessity of meeting the peasant on his own ground and the advantage of appealing to him in his own language. the idea of a benevolent ruler, an all-suffering motherland, and an all-unifying church exercised a powerful appeal upon the imagination, for a long time superseding and forcing into the background the growing, elemental, and unfulfilled longing for more land. the ideology of a perfect monarchy is so simple and its shortcomings so easily attributable to dishonesty of officials, that it answered the peasant's thoughts as long as he was not able to see the folly of distinguishing between the system and its realization, but separated in his mind the image of his loving monarch from the cruel reality of everyday life as he still distinguishes between the faith and the priest. the great mistake of all conservatives is that they seek to bring about a state of perfect justice by improving only the quality of the ruling body without changing the conditions of life of the ruled mass. yet even so the conservatives had quite a following among the peasants up to the time of the revolution of and in a way may still have a future before them. the octoberists find no support in the masses and do not make any serious attempt to gain it. they frankly acknowledged themselves as the party of industry and trade, having no wider interests at heart than the maintenance of order and law throughout the country. their leaders were forced into a revolutionary attitude only at the time when there was danger of a universal collapse of russia if the tsar's government persisted, and they may be forced to join in a counter-revolution, if their interests are again endangered. their ideology is that of a capitalistic class and their power depends entirely on the future development of industry and trade in russia. for the present they are nowhere. unable to find a new basis for their activity in place of class interest, they lack unity of purpose and are deserted by their own former supporters among their employees. trade and industry are disorganized and the party may never be resurrected. the constitutional democrats are in this respect better off. they find their support chiefly among more or less educated people of various pursuits: lawyers, bankers, brokers, journalists, teachers, artists, scientists, etc. their program embraces the interests of all classes and demands political, judicial, economic, industrial and agrarian legislation of a very radical and extensive kind. their horizon of vision includes the sufferings and aspirations of the often incongruous elements of the vast whole, but their ideology is still based on the long outworn idealistic capitalism and for this reason alone does not and cannot appeal to not-owning classes. their agrarian program is in this respect the most striking example. it is worked out in great detail and is aimed at a betterment of the condition of peasants without deep injury to the present landowners. it recognizes the right of the peasant to more land, it provides for future state ownership of land to prevent it from falling into wrong hands, but does not condemn the principle of landownership, nor the injustice of present ownership, and for that reason elaborates a method of compensation for compulsorily alienated land through universal taxation. to avoid excessive burden to the impoverished peasant the compensation is to be in the shape of bonds representing the average value of the land in each particular case, only the interest on these bonds to be paid yearly from universal taxes--a topsy-turvy mortgage system, as it were, in which the state becomes the proprietor and mortgagor of the land, while its present owners are turned into forced mortgagees. under this system the peasants will get all land available, but per cent will have to pay for what is owned by a small fraction of even the remaining per cent of the entire population. the proposed scheme proved to be too radical for the tsar's government in and caused the downfall of the first duma. it provoked at the time bitter comment in germany also, where the conservative and national-liberal press accused the russian constitutional democratic party of putting forward impossible demands and of attacking the very principle of property ownership. yet the principle underlying the proposed reform is unquestionably capitalistic and is the chief cause of the hatred and contempt which the party enjoys on the part of social-democrats. in the beginning of the sixties the conservative land committee appointed by alexander ii, composed of hereditary landowners, avowed enemies of any economic liberation of peasants, out of fear that private ownership of land might enrich the peasants and make them dangerous to the established order, devised a scheme of communal ownership of land and unconsciously taught the peasants the principles of socialism. in constitutional democrats opposed the bill of the government for the dissolution of land communities and substitution of private for communal land ownership at the request of individual peasants. the objection raised was on the ground that peasants suddenly possessed of a chance to get ready money would sell their land to a few exploiters and being unable to put it to good use would rapidly become paupers. the best men in the duma opposed stolypin's bill, and the law was introduced by stealth and promulgated during a forced recess of the duma. contrary to expectation the law neither led to the results desired by the government, nor to those feared by constitutional democrats. it remained a dead letter. few members of peasant communities applied for separation. the government tried to boost its scheme by building at its own expense model, fake peasant homes. the peasants had already their own idea as to remedies in regard to land shortage and did not want any substitute. the difficulty of making the peasant respect the principle of private ownership of land is due to many causes. the most liberal minded landowners were usually those who spent their winters in various occupations in large cities and used their estates as summer homes and a partial source of income. the work of supervision was only too often intrusted to utterly unscrupulous and uneducated managers belonging to the peasant class, while the neighboring peasants were employed as day laborers in the field and garden. this kind of labor was already available, because peasants were unable to derive sufficient income from their own land to pay the heavy taxes and to support their families. scarcely any landowners understood anything of agriculture and few paid any attention to it. i know splendid estates which brought in miserable incomes, not normal even under the antiquated system of four year crop rotation and quite absurd if measured by standards of modern american farming, yet sufficient to place at the disposal of the owners a splendid mansion in moscow or petrograd and a no less splendid summer home on their estate. there, during the hot summer days, the owners were enjoying their comfort in idleness and talking of reforms necessary for the benefit of the peasants, while peasant women were cutting the wheat for them with sickles, stooping and sweating under the scorching rays of the sun. the superintendents of those estates enriched themselves at the expense of the blind or careless and carefree owners under the very eyes of the peasants who hated the superintendents, pitied or despised the liberal owners, as the case might be, and gloomily compared their own poverty and labor with the ease and wealth of their employers. the more thrifty and less liberal owners, who remained the greater part of the year on their estates, were perhaps more respected but still less liked. any attempt at careful management of the estate was invariably considered to be a sign of stinginess or of hardheartedness. the idea of property is not clearly defined in the mind of the average peasant who considers plants that are not planted but grow wild to be a gift of god. in disputes involving such cases the line between rightful possession and theft is difficult to draw, and men who took the controversy to court were invariably hated. a glaring example of this kind was an otherwise liberal minded landowner, a well known professor of sociology, who spent three-quarters of a year in lecturing at a foreign university of which he was a member and who was finally murdered on his own estate. the home life of even liberal intellectuals was another barrier between them and the masses. not only was coarse food considered to be good enough for domestics, but they seldom, if ever, had a decent corner for themselves in the house and their miserable wages were out of all proportion with the long hours of service required. many families had guests almost daily, the company sitting around a samovar, discussing and conversing until one or two in the morning, while the sleepy domestics were stealing a nap in the anteroom, ready to appear at the call of the mistress. the table had to be cleared after the guests and the family retired for the night and the breakfast had to be prepared, boots polished, stoves heated, rooms cleaned in the early morning. for the master might rest until ten or eleven, but the children have to be at school by eight and the servants must be ready to serve them. and though many families kept professional servants, the country homes depended almost entirely in winter as well as in summer on local help. attempts to improve the condition of peasants were numerous and in some respects successful, but found an obstacle on the one hand in the attitude of the government and on the other in the conservatism and suspicion of the peasants themselves. fire insurance and cooperative enterprises helped to a certain degree, but an almost complete absence of expert agriculturists in the ranks of the landowners prevented them from demonstrating on their own estates the value of applied knowledge as well as from teaching the peasants how to increase the productivity of the land through intensive farming. thus it came to pass that the vast majority of landowners, both conservative and liberal, remained strangers to the people among whom they lived, whose labor they employed, and for whose welfare many were in earnest concerned. the constitutional democratic party is strong in the cities. in the country it has no followers and in the sweeping incendiary fires of - estates were burned which belonged in several cases to men who spent their life in fighting for freedom against the tsar's government. no less unfortunate is the party in its relation to the class of factory workers. that part of its program which relates to the labor question embraces a number of important reforms meeting almost all demands of the working class. the barrier between them is the capitalistic principle. a perusal of the lists of constitutional democrats who have subscribed large sums for the russian liberty loan will show why workmen speak of them as capitalists even though the party has accepted the principle of progressive income taxation. there is a feeling of intense hatred toward all constitutional democrats on the part of all workmen. nothing is more instructive than the rapid change in the position which the constitutional democratic party occupied in the eyes of the people after the revolution. before the outbreak of hostilities all parties were against war. but soon, under the influence of the german methods of warfare in belgium, france, and russia, the feeling changed. even the mensheviki among the social-democrats declared themselves in favor of war and the only party remaining firm in condemning all war was that of the bolsheviki. the entrance of the turks into the war was almost considered a godsend by the constitutional democrats, octoberists, and conservatives in the duma because it cleared the way for a final settlement of the balkan problem and promised the elimination of turkey from europe. long after sazonov was removed, when the consent of england and france to give russia free hand in constantinople and the straits was read in a telegram before the duma, a general outburst of enthusiasm took place, the members demanding to know why sazonov, who was justly credited with this achievement, was in retirement and not in charge of the foreign office which he should have held by right. miliukov's speeches and writings on the future settlement of the balkan problem were jokingly spoken of as his dissertation for the degree of foreign secretary. at home the party was pursuing a policy of patient endurance, postponing strife for the future until the crimes of the tsar's government made further silence impossible. at that time the whole tissue of treason was not yet known, but enough was in evidence to demand vigorous protest. not being a revolutionary party the constitutional democrats abstained from any action not strictly within the law and merely condemned the activity of the government. they desired amelioration of the fundamental laws, but even that they would have preferred to accomplish by persuasion rather than by force. in fact they considered socialist demands unreasonable, socialization of russia premature, and any violent overthrow unwise and hazardous. for the latter opinion they found support in the failure of the uprising of the working class in - , when the punitive expeditions proved the loyalty of the army to the throne. consequently the attitude of the army in the memorable days of the march revolution was a great surprise to them. at the same time they attributed to themselves the lion share in the overthrow, presumably on the ground that masses follow leaders and the constitutional \ democrats were the only ones who had a chance for open protest in the duma and made use of it. this delusion led to a series of tactical errors and cost them dearly. in all elections they polled a comparatively small vote. trying to save russia for the allies they failed to meet the russian socialists on their own ground and were forced to explain away differences of opinion much too thoroughgoing to be explained away. in a country which is in the throes of the most remarkable revolution ever witnessed, they tried to apply non-revolutionary methods and drew on themselves the suspicion of the masses of being counter-revolutionists. from the very moment when miliukov announced the passing of the supreme power from the tsar to grand duke michail, when his words were answered by angry shouts in favor of a democratic republic, the position of the party became precarious. they had either to revise their own program and to catch up with the rush of the progressive current, or else to find themselves in the rôle of inundated rocks over which the waters flow. the announcement that the party would support a demand for a republic was too late to change the first impression, while the proposition to accept unconditional expropriation of land in place of the compensation plan was defeated in heated debate at the party convention. under normal circumstances the party would have probably been steadily losing support, but the arrest and imprisonment of the best and highly honored leaders by the bolsheviki is bound to put fresh vigor into their efforts and give new life to their cause. the leaders of the bolsheviki themselves have fallen into error of a different kind. being primarily a party of the wage earning day laborers, the program of the bolsheviki puts the interest of the proletariat above everything else. from insufficient observation of peasant life and the fact that peasants want socialization of land, they jump to the conclusion that the country is ready for complete socialization. only the more educated leaders among them realize that such a conclusion is premature. but to bring about the necessary change in as near a future as possible, the leaders of the bolsheviki have fanned hatred of the proletariat toward the "bourgeois" classes. one must give them credit in this respect. they know the value of simple language when they put this hatred into words. listen to the russian marseillaise: "rise, brothers, all at once against the thieves, the curs--the rich ones! against the vampire tsar! beat them, kill them--the cursed evil-doers! glow, dawn of better life!" the simple ideology, the easy catch phrases in which the language of this ideology is couched, the primeval character of the passion aroused, contribute to the success which the party enjoys among working people and homeless paupers. therein lies the power of the bolsheviki. but reaction is bound to come and here again the peasants will play the chief rôle. all accounts of conversations with peasants tend to show that they have very vague ideas of socialism. in fact the social-democrats have not taken the trouble to acquaint the peasants with the principles of their teaching, leaving that field almost entirely to the influence of socialist-revolutionists. among the intellectuals none have come nearer to the understanding of peasant psychology than those men and women who from the first espoused the cause of the peasant. realizing the space separating educated men from their less fortunate brothers, they gave up their life as intellectuals and "went among the people." they donned peasant garb and acquired peasant tongue. from this group of workers for freedom later the socialist-revolutionary party developed. "all land for the peasant" is their slogan, while their promise to expropriate all land without any compensation naturally meets with approval on the part of the land-hungry peasants. moreover, their program does not demand immediate complete socialization of russia, leaving that to a gradual process of evolution and change of existing conditions. in the ten years preceding the first revolution thousands of young intellectuals joined the party and fought the tsar's regime. they showed a degree of self-abnegation found only in people whose heart is kindled with the true spirit of devotion to a great cause. the revolution of would never have taken place but for their organized "terror from below." the high regard held for them by the widest circles has caused their rise in power during the first two months of the revolution of . but tactical errors committed by the leaders of the party as well as dissensions within the party itself contributed to a rather rapid change of sentiment toward them on all sides. in a measure as the constitutional democrats vigorously objected to their policy to put into life as soon as possible the agrarian reforms promised by them, the social-democrats on their part attacked them for their moderation in other demands. for some reason not yet clear, kerensky was slighted in the very beginning of his political career when his nomination to the executive council of the socialist-revolutionist party was opposed by a large majority. just as the constitutional democrats made a series of tactical errors due to the fact that they thought themselves representative of the spirit of the russian people, whereas in reality they stood sponsors only for a relatively small minority, even so the socialist-revolutionists misjudged the attitude of other parties toward themselves. they overrated the ability of the masses to distinguish between their attitude toward war in general and the necessity to continue the present war. they overrated the ability of the soldiers to distinguish between slavish obedience and military discipline. they tried to play the rôle of a center. they tried to mediate between social-democrats and constitutional democrats and naturally failed in this attempt. some of their leaders, notably mr. tschernov, were accused by constitutional democrats of being pro-german if not actual german agents. others, including kerensky himself and even mme. breshkovsky, were accused by the bolsheviki of having been almost bribed by the capitalistic interests of america, england, and france. needless to say that the accusations had no basis whatever in actual facts and represent simply an ugly outgrowth of misguided jealousy of the masses to guard their dearly won right to a social revolution against those whom they consider the worst enemies of socialism, and the desire of unscrupulous leaders to profit by it. thus the socialist-revolutionists were gradually relegated in the mind of the extremists to the great body of the hated "bourgeois." only in their rightful element, among the peasants, they continue to enjoy a great deal of popularity, and the returns to the constituent assembly show that theirs will be the absolute majority even though they lost some of their popularity. the progress of the russian revolution presents a sad spectacle of an almost complete failure on the part of the majority of intellectuals to understand the spirit of the times and to guide the masses through the labyrinth of errors. in days past the russian intellectuals were the forefighters for freedom and the russian people will ever be indebted to them for this. they prepared the soil for the revolution by spreading ideas of freedom by all means at their disposal. they weakened the tsar's power and thus contributed to its overthrow by persistent attacks upon the system of autocratic government. they helped to awaken the spirit of self-consciousness in the masses. but they did not evolve new principles. they did not open wide avenues for the development of a new order of social organization. they misunderstood the masses and consequently were unable to control the forces set loose. and if russia is going to be saved from utter ruin amidst the clamor and strife of party leaders and to evolve a new democratic system, it will be due not to the intellectuals, but to the great spirit of the dark masses of the russian peasants. forces behind the russian revolution forces behind the russian revolution by samuel n. harper one was struck by the remarkable unity that characterized the short first period of the russian revolution of last march. one knew, however, that there were two distinct sets of forces behind the movement, operating through two kinds of organizations. there were first the already existing and parliamentary institutions which had become revolutionary in spirit and methods of action. on the other hand there were the institutions produced by the revolution itself, emerging from the chaos in the midst of which the other, already functioning bodies, were trying to take a new and directing line. the most prominent of the first type of institution was the duma, the legislative parliament of the old regime, and of the second type, the petrograd council of workmen's and soldiers' deputies. the duma, however, was only one of several legal institutions that had developed under the old regime, and represented the first stages of parliamentary, popular government. there were the local provincial and municipal councils, and also the officially recognized war-industry committees, which had come to have semi-governmental functions. finally one could bring under this category, with a little forcing, the cooperative societies, which had assumed enormous importance during the two and a half years of war. in these institutions we had self-government, and participation in public affairs, and also the idea of cooperation between the various classes and political tendencies--the idea of coalition. the election law of the duma provided for the representation of all group interests of the community, and representation by an actual member of the group, by a _bona fide_ peasant in the case of the peasantry. the seats in the assembly were distributed specifically to landlords, manufacturers, the smaller bourgeoisie, workmen, and peasants. the election law of the local government bodies made similar provision for group representation. on the war-industry committees, the workmen had elected representatives, sitting with the representatives of the manufacturers and owners. in the coöperative movement the bourgeois-intellectual element had taken the initiative, but had always emphasized the direct participation of the workmen and peasants in the actual management of the societies, as the theory of the movement demanded. thus the broader democratic classes of the country, the workmen and peasants, were represented in the somewhat popular institutions that had developed under the old regime. but the actual control was in the hands of the less democratic elements--the landlords, the manufacturers, men of the liberal professions, and of the so-called intelligentsia class. most of these men were of liberal and democratic tendencies, but they were in actual fact, as compared with the broader masses, of the privileged classes. they had emphasized always the essentially democratic character of the activity of the institutions in which they were the leaders. they put particular stress on the fact that the activities of the local provincial councils, for example, were directed mainly toward the amelioration of conditions of life among the peasantry. but the fact that the control over these institutions, even in the cooperative movement (so far as independent control was allowed by the bureaucracy of the old regime), was secured to the less democratic elements of the community, did contradict the idea of coalition, of the bringing together of all interests and forces. these institutions had been permitted to exist and develop only because they were controlled by the more conservative groups. the cooperative societies represented more truly the idea of coalition. here in the cooperative movement the leaders of political liberalism had always noted with relief that one was gradually attaining the end toward which they knew they must work--the organic union between the so-called intelligentsia, and the "people," meaning the broader, democratic classes. when the anarchy resulting from the incompetence, stupidity and perhaps treason of the old bureaucracy reached such an acute stage in the first weeks of march that the leaders of the russian public saw that some action must be taken by some one, it was the duma that assumed the initiative, acting in a revolutionary manner, through an executive committee. the municipal and provincial councils, organized in unions for war-work, and the war-industry committees, turned without delay to the revolutionary parliament, in which many of their leading workers were members. the leaders of the coöperative movement could not act with such rapidity and precision. they had not been permitted to organize a central committee, to coordinate the work of the thousands of small and scattered societies. these first leaders of the revolution felt justified in taking the initiative because they alone were organized. also they thought they could speak in the name of all classes, including the most democratic, because the institutions through which they acted did include representatives of all classes. to emphasize its special anxiety that the more democratic groups feel their direct participation in the movement of which it had taken the leadership, the executive committee of the duma not only accepted but encouraged the development of the revolutionary institutions of the second category, of which the first to emerge was the petrograd council of workmen's and soldiers' deputies. this council was organized during the very first days of the revolution; it was in fact the resurrection of a revolutionary body of the revolution. the duma invited the council to share its own convenient quarters. perhaps the invitation was an afterthought, for the workmen and soldiers of petrograd in revolt had gravitated toward the duma, had calmly entered and taken possession of the large corridors of the palace. the council was a strictly revolutionary, and a very democratic body, composed of directly elected delegates from the factories and garrison regiments of petrograd. it immediately became the organizing center for what came to be called the "revolutionary democracy," as opposed to the "bourgeoisie." the executive committee of the duma consulted with the council of workmen's and soldiers' deputies on the composition of the proposed provisional government, and on the political program to be announced. for as we saw, it was the first thought of these leaders to secure unity of action. they recognized that the council did in fact represent "revolutionary democracy," at least of petrograd. as the workmen and soldiers of petrograd were completely out of hand, armed and fighting on the streets, arresting officers, ministers and police, and showing a tendency to start general and anarchic pillaging, the duma leaders saw a restraining authority in the council of these same workmen and soldiers. they therefore either did not wish, or did not dare, to object at the time to the famous order no. to the garrison of petrograd, issued by the council, and not by the executive committee of the duma. many have claimed that this particular order, which was extended to the front, was responsible for the later demoralization of the whole russian army. others, the leaders of revolutionary democracy, have insisted that this order prevented the immediate and complete collapse of the whole army. in preparing the slate for the new government, the executive committee of the duma selected one of the presiding officers of the council, kerensky. when miliukov, the duma leader, announced the composition of the new provisional government to the crowd, composed largely of workmen and soldiers gathered in the main corridors of the duma, he emphasized the cooperation between duma and council, the consent of kerensky to enter the government, and also the fact that most of the members of the new government had worked in and through institutions, in which peasants and workmen also had been represented. though the word "coalition" was not used during the first weeks of the revolution, one had constantly in mind the idea of "bringing together all the vital forces of the country." in this last expression i quote one of the first and most emphasized slogans of the revolution. but the problem proved most difficult, complicated by the fact that one had to solve at one and the same time two most stupendous tasks. one had to consolidate the conquests of the revolution, and also prosecute the war. the prosecution of the war required the acceptance of a strong authority, vested in the provisional government. but naturally the first aim of the revolution was to extend its ideas to the rest of the country, for the actual overthrow of the old order had been largely the work of petrograd. the two tasks were closely associated with one another, because one could not reorganize the country for the war until the new ideas had taken root. the first parliamentary leaders wished to use as the basis for carrying out both tasks the old institutions, the municipal and provincial councils, and the coöperative societies, at the same time taking steps gradually to democratize them. but the strictly revolutionary leaders wished to democratize immediately, and put this forward as the first object to be accomplished. so they demanded and promoted the organizing of revolutionary democracy all over the country, through councils of workmen, soldiers, and peasants, through army committees, land committees, professional unions, and so forth. the champions of this immediate democratization policy were almost exclusively members of the various socialist parties, some of them representing the most extreme views. the majority of them were not consciously striving to undermine the authority of the provisional government. they recognized and in fact advocated the compromise represented in the first group of leaders. they trusted most of them, but wished at the same time to organize revolutionary democracy, for self-protection for the moment, and perhaps for self-assertion at a later date. but a minority of the socialist leaders did not take this constructive line. from the very start they professed to distrust the first provisional government, for they did not believe in "coalition"--the co-operation between the various group interests of the community. their theory was that of class struggle; they proclaimed this to be their aim, and worked to give to the revolution this character. though a minority, they were a very active and energetic group, and tended to give the tone in the meetings and resolutions of revolutionary democracy, thus dulling the spirit of cooperation, which characterized the first period of the revolution. the extremists wished a social revolution, "permanent revolution," class struggle, and they agitated openly and with energy. the workmen and soldiers of petrograd had borne the brunt of the physical side of the revolution. only workmen and soldiers had been killed fighting for the revolution during that first week. these particular groups were therefore proclaimed the "pride and flower of the revolution," and told that they must establish the dictatorship of the proletariat, thus consolidating the conquests of the revolution, which should not be allowed to remain a mere bourgeois affair. the moderate, constructive socialists did not accept this extreme view, but they nevertheless recognized the need for an effective organization of revolutionary democracy all over the country, to ensure the adoption of truly democratic policies. so they also set about to strengthen and extend the councils and committees that had emerged with the revolution, coordinating them in conferences and formal congresses. much of the activity along these lines was in fact of a constructive character. but class and party considerations were always in the foreground at all these congresses. also the constructive socialists did not accept the idea of a formal coalition at the beginning. they did not participate as organizations in the first government. kerensky was a socialist, but he entered the first government as a member of the duma, and not as the representative of the council of workmen's and soldiers' deputies. the resolution of a conference of the council of workmen's and soldiers' deputies, called during the fourth week of the revolution, summarizes the attitude of revolutionary democracy toward the problem of the moment. the full text of the resolution, given in a literal translation to preserve as far as possible the style of the original, is an interesting document: "whereas the provisional government, that was brought into power by the overthrow of the autocracy, represents the interests of the liberal and democratic bourgeoisie, but shows a tendency to follow the right line, in the declaration published by it in agreement with the representatives of the council of workmen's and soldiers' deputies, therefore the all-russian conference of councils of workmen's and soldiers' deputies, while insisting on the need of constant pressure being brought to bear on the provisional government to arouse it to the most energetic struggle with the counter-revolutionary forces, and to decisive measures in the direction of an immediate democratization of the entire russian life, nevertheless recognizes that political expediency dictates support of the provisional government by the council of workmen's and soldiers' deputies _so long_ as the provisional government, in agreement with the council, moves inflexibly toward the consolidation of the conquests of the revolution and the extension of these conquests." the expression "so long as," emphasized in the translation of the resolution, has been one of the most far-reaching of the formulae produced by the revolution. around this phrase has centered the struggle of these last months. the extremists decided from the very start that the condition had not been fulfilled. the more moderate socialists took an attitude of constant watchfulness, and latent distrust. "revolutionary democracy" could not be organized in a week or a month, so for the first period it was represented by the revolutionary democracy of petrograd, through the petrograd council of workmen's and soldiers' deputies, supplemented by delegates from similar councils of other cities, and by representatives from the army at the front. it was more difficult to organize the peasants scattered through the country, and not concentrated in barracks or factories. the workmen and soldiers of petrograd therefore assumed to represent all revolutionary democracy, and they had the physical force behind them. they were there on the spot, at the administrative and political center inherited from the old regime, ready to act without delay when they decided that the provisional government should no longer be supported. and the workmen and soldiers of petrograd were being won over gradually to the extremists, the bolsheviki. as the provisional government was aiming first of all to preserve social peace, adopting a policy of conciliation, it did not oppose the supervision exercised by the council. in fact it realized that only recognition of such supervision would ensure any measure of common action. the duma committee had been asked to efface itself, for as an institution of the old regime it aroused the suspicions of the revolutionary bodies. the efficiency of the local government bodies was sacrificed to the idea of immediate democratization. the establishment of revolutionary committees all over the country, and in the army even, was countenanced and accepted, though perhaps only because it was seen that it could not be prevented except by repressive measures, to which the first leaders were unwilling to resort. perhaps also the latter realized that physical force was not on their side. the council of workmen's and soldiers' deputies acted on the principle of a direct mandate from the whole people. it issued orders to revolutionary democracy, as we saw. it insisted on the exercise of a real control, even on the right to countersign, as it were, some of the orders of the provisional government. then it definitely questioned the policy and measures of the minister of foreign affairs and the minister of war. when these two men were forced to resign, the other members of the government demanded that revolutionary democracy share in the responsibility of government, if it insisted on such a measure of control. the councils at first refused, but later agreed, and a frankly and officially recognized coalition government was formed. socialists entered the government not only as members of their respective parties, but as representatives of revolutionary democracy organized in the councils, which now contained delegates from the peasantry, hurriedly brought in by a somewhat artificial system of representation. the first coalition government drew up a program of policy. as this program was somewhat vaguely worded, coalition in the strict and true sense of the word was not secured. the socialists had entered the coalition under pressure, as we saw. some of them felt called upon to justify the step in a statement, later discovered and made public, to socialists of other countries. in the statement they explained that they had entered the government, in order to "deepen and extend the class struggle." and this is what some of them did actually start in to do, using their authority and powers as ministers to turn the organs of revolutionary democracy in this direction, promoting suspicion of and antagonism toward the bourgeoisie. the socialist ministers also held themselves directly responsible to the councils. finally the socialist members of the government tried to force immediate decisions on questions of a fundamental nature, which should be decided only by the constituent assembly, thus not adhering to the program drawn up as the basis for the coalition. the position of the non-socialist members of the government therefore became untenable, and a whole group of them resigned. the resignation of the most influential bourgeois group of the first coalition government coincided quite accidentally with an armed uprising which the extremists, the bolsheviki, had been planning for several weeks. for the extremists were again putting forward their demand, this time supported by armed force, that all the "capitalist" ministers resign, and that all authority pass into the hands of the councils. but the councils refused to take over authority, the constructive majority replying that they would not accept the responsibility. in their judgment only a government representing all the vital forces of the country, that is a coalition government, could succeed. the moderate socialists prevailed in the councils, and a second coalition was formed, this time under the presidency of a socialist, kerensky. some weeks elapsed before the new government was finally organized. the non-socialist groups were willing to enter a coalition government led by a socialist, but only on a definite program, which would exclude all fundamental legislation. objection was raised also to certain individual socialists, whose record in the first coalition government made one doubt their willingness to adhere honestly to any coalition program. this objection was withdrawn later; but the non-socialists gave only their second-best men as members of the new government. the non-socialists also had demanded that the provisional government be absolutely independent, its members not responsible to any councils or party committees. for the councils of workmen's and soldiers' deputies were as we saw exclusively socialistic, and had become mere party bodies. in the meantime the democratization of local government bodies was going on apace, and very successfully in view of the chaotic conditions produced by revolution and war. as the new local municipal and provincial councils, elected by universal suffrage, began to convene, the revolutionary committees and councils were expected gradually to disappear. the elections for the constituent assembly were to take place as soon as the new local governing bodies could verify and correct the lists of voters. the constituent assembly was to replace definitely not only all revolutionary councils and committees, but also the duma, which continued to exist legally, though without functioning. the main objective of the constructive elements was to hold the situation together until the constituent assembly could be convened; the date had been advanced, even at a sacrifice of regularity in election procedure. and a coalition government seemed to be the only possible solution, despite the difficulties already encountered in applying the principle. the councils, the land committees and the other organizations that had come into existence with and in the course of the revolution were, as we saw, almost exclusively socialist in their political affiliations. this was true even of the peasant congresses, though it was generally admitted that the bulk of the peasantry was not consciously socialistic. of all the revolutionary bodies the peasant councils were clearly the least representative. this was particularly true of the first alleged all-russian peasant congress. the peasantry, the great mass of the population, became articulate very slowly. the non-socialist groups were striving to bring about a more true expression of peasant views; and their moderate program was making headway, though they found it difficult to compete with the extremists, who made most generous promises. but the non-socialist groups were beginning to take a stronger line, as they saw the experiments of the extremists lead to disillusionment. they proposed to organize councils and congresses of the non-socialist elements. this project was immediately branded as counter-revolutionary by "revolutionary democracy." perhaps to ward off the contemplated move of the non-socialists, kerensky issued a general invitation for a state conference at moscow of all parties, groups, and organizations, at which the opinions of all could be expressed, presumably for the guidance of the coalition government. the moscow conference did in fact give to all organizations, duma, councils of workmen's and soldiers' deputies, the recently elected local-government bodies, coöperative and professional unions, in fact every group, socialist and non-socialist, revolutionary and pre-revolutionary institutions, the opportunity to express views. the speeches did perhaps help the coalition government to sense the situation with which it had to deal, though the conference showed that the coalition government was unstable, and that the extreme ideas of the bolsheviki had penetrated deeply in the broader masses. again the bolsheviki attacked the principle of coalition, and demanded that revolutionary democracy take over all authority. then came the kornilov affair, which in its conception was an effort on the part of the constructive groups, including the moderate socialists, to discredit the extremists, and establish a stronger government, free from party ties and party programs, representing a national movement to organize "all the vital forces of the country," to use again the phraseology of the revolution. but there was a misunderstanding, and also perhaps it was premature--"revolutionary democracy" was not yet sufficiently sobered to accept a program of common constructive effort. the movement had the opposite effect; it split the country into two openly hostile camps, and brought revolutionary democracy still more under the influence of the extremists. the coalition government fell to pieces, and a directorate of five, with almost dictatorial powers, still headed by kerensky, assumed authority. the bolsheviki now demanded the absolute and final renunciation of the principle of coalition, and the formation of a purely socialistic government. kerensky and the constructive socialists refused to participate in such a government, and opened negotiations with the non-socialist leaders, to attempt once more the coalition form of government. the extremists then sent out a call to "revolutionary democracy" to meet in another conference, which they called a democratic conference, as opposed to the state conference of moscow. they declared that no bourgeois, counter-revolutionary group would be admitted to the conference. kerensky allowed the conference to meet. it passed contradictory resolutions, first voting against the principle of a coalition form of government, but later seeming to advocate and support this principle. the moderate socialists fought hard for the coalition idea, and kerensky and his followers seemed at last to have won out. in any case, at the beginning of october, kerensky formed a third coalition government, and convened a preliminary parliament in which all parties were represented. this time a definitely outlined program, as the basis for coöperation, was accepted by the socialists, which made it possible for the non-socialists to give their best men to the new combination. the provisional government of october , at least the fifth since the revolution, and the third coalition government, unquestionably brought together the strongest and most representative group of men since the revolution. the bolsheviki declared their intention to break it up as quickly as possible, and there was not much optimism in non-socialist circles; one felt that it would not survive many weeks. but this third coalition government gave a greater promise of success than any previous attempt. there was hope that it would last, and hold the situation together, at least until the constituent assembly could meet. this hope was not realized, as we know, and the break-up of the government came within a month, when the bolsheviki at last accomplished their long-planned armed uprising, and by force established what they called the dictatorship of the proletariat. acting on the very eve of the opening of the constituent assembly, the elections for which were already in progress, the bolsheviki showed clearly their contempt for a really national, popular form of government. the bolshevik uprising was followed by civil war. but this was the aim of the extremists, for they were against social peace, cooperation, coalition, and were striving for class war. until this last month the russian revolution, though marked by extreme antagonisms, and much wrangling, was nevertheless comparatively peaceful in character. there was no extensive violence, such as would justify the use of the term "civil war." it was to avoid civil war that such constant, and on the whole honest, efforts were made to "unite all the vital forces of the country." for it was seen that civil war would perhaps ruin the revolution, and in any case would eliminate russia as a factor in the war, and the constructive leaders constantly emphasized that on the successful outcome of the war depended also the success of the revolution. but the efforts of the more constructive and moderate groups failed. this very short outline of the attempts to solve the problems with which revolutionary russia was confronted by applying the principle of coalition gives an interpretation of the recent events in russia from another angle. in any case one has tried to point out the forces in conflict during these last months, perhaps suggesting one of many possible issues from the present chaos. the russian revolution the russian revolution by frank alfred golder the intelligent public that has been watching the erratic courses which the russian ship of state has been sailing during the last few years suspected that something was wrong with it, but not until after the march revolution did it become fully known what incompetent and irresponsible officers were in command. it was then learned that a great part of the time the emperor was either drunk or doped, that the empress was hysterical and on the verge of a mental breakdown, and that they were assisted by senile sturmer, mentally unbalanced protopopov, and profligate rasputin, none of whom could read a compass nor lay out a course and steered the ship as they willed. all the passengers, first, second, and third class, grand dukes, intelligentsia, and laborers saw the danger and shouted warning but the officers neither saw nor heard. in order to save themselves and the vessel each class of passengers, quite independent of the other, resolved that at the first opportune moment it would throw the officers overboard and take charge of the ship; but while they were plotting the crew mutinied, arrested the officers, and left the ship to drift in sight of the breakers. nicholas romanov is to blame for the plight of his country and for his own misfortunes. he was warned, he was given his chances, but he abused them all. when he entered on his reign he was popular and had the good will of his people with him. for some reason or other it was assumed that he was liberal minded and that under him the people would breathe a little more freely than under his autocratic father. this hope was so strong that it was unconsciously accepted as a fact. stories were told that the tsar fraternized with students and workmen and that he was determined to destroy the bureaucratic wall which kept the people from him. it was on the strength of this report that the zemstvo of tver petitioned him that in the future it might have direct access to him and have a say in the government. here was a great opportunity but he turned it against himself. his reply was, "it has come to my attention that recently some people have been carried away by senseless dreams that the representatives of the zemstvos should take part in internal affairs. let it be known to all that i shall guard the autocracy as firmly as did my father." this was his program and it deeply disappointed the people. on the top of this came the tragedy at moscow on the day of his coronation when hundreds of people lost their lives in the attempt to obtain a loving cup which was promised them in commemoration of the event. then followed the wholesale killing of the factory hands at iaroslav, of the peasants in kharkov, the miners on the lena, and other such massacres and pogroms. nicholas himself withdrew to his palaces and left the affairs of state in the hands of the court clique which dragged russia into the japanese war and brought on the revolution of . before it was over the emperor promised a constitution but as soon as the disturbance was quelled he went back on his word. it was known that he was weak and he now proved that he was also a liar. he dismissed one duma after another, he created an upper house to act as a brake, he juggled with the electoral laws so that whereas according to the law of december , the working classes and the peasants were entitled to per cent of the duma's representation, by the law of june , they were allowed only per cent, poland's delegation was cut down from to per cent, caucasus' from to , siberia's from to , and central asia's from to . in fact he did everything to make the duma ineffective and a laughing stock. but that was not enough, his pride was hurt and he wanted to be revenged, and the number of people arrested, imprisoned, exiled, and executed for political crimes was greater than before. it has been said that nicholas was not cruel and the blame for the bloody deeds in his reign was laid to his ministers. indeed, there is something in his face that is kindly and makes a very good first impression. but those who knew him better had learned to distrust that smile. when the emperor was most gracious to one of his ministers it was a sign that his resignation would be called for the next day. in this respect nicholas ii was like alexander i. the following story tells something of the real character of the man who had the lives of millions of people at his mercy. the committee appointed by the duma to take charge of the papers of the tsar found that many important documents of state, such as reports from the commanders-in-chief, ministers, and others, he had never read, and some he had not even looked at. they did, however, come across a notebook which had been carefully kept and guarded. on opening it they noted that nicholas, with his own hand, wrote down the names of those revolutionists who, in - , were executed, the kind of execution, and other such details. [fn: this story was told to the writer by a member of the committee.] that interested him, but matters of state he left to his time servers, to his hysterical wife, yes, to grigory rasputin, a dirty, ignorant, and licentious peasant, until the country blushed with shame and it became a saying, "now we have grigory i [rasputin] as tsar." the present war was declared by the tsar but the people approved it because they hoped that the defeat of germany would mean the defeat of the german reactionary influence in russia, especially about the court, and a closer union with democratic england and france. i was present at the capital at the time that the war broke out and heard the cheers when the emperor made the declaration. it seemed as if nicholas by coming out against germany had redeemed himself in the eyes of his people who were willing to wipe out the past, and give him another chance. during the first months of the war he was as popular as during the first weeks of his reign. it was not like the japanese war when the soldiers refused service; in this german war, the men called to colors went without a murmur, they hoped that something good would come out of it. offers of help from individuals as well as commercial and civic bodies poured in on the government. the ministers said that everything was ready, that in a few months the russians would be in berlin. at first, all went well, but soon news came of the catastrophe in eastern prussia, of the traitorous acts of the minister of war, of the campaign in the carpathians where the russians were slaughtered like sheep because they had no guns, no ammunition, and no supplies. again the poor people were betrayed and a cry of horror and vengeance went up as on january , , bloody sunday. the tsar would probably have been overthrown there and then had it not been for the war and the hatred of germany. the liberals and patriots of all kinds thought that all was not yet lost and they went to work with a will, giving themselves, their money, their strength, and their lives, but they soon became convinced that it was all in vain so long as rasputin, the empress, and their clique ran the government. [fn: several months before the revolution the following confidential conversation took place between alexeiev, the russian commander-in-chief, and a journalist: alexeiev: i can get nothing from them [ministers]. my supplies are decreasing.... it is even necessary to think. through the duma they begged the emperor to put in ministers whom the people could trust, but he, as if to show his contempt for public opinion, selected men of low character, one worse than the other, men with whom even decent monarchists would not shake hands, and in shame withdrew from court.] [fn: about bread. we are already cutting down the allowance. they have forgotten about food for the horses....] journalist: what are you going to do about it? a. what shall i do? with these people there is nothing that can be done. j. have you said anything to the tsar about it? a. i have... but it does no good. j. why? a. while you talk to him he pays attention, gets worked up, is eager to do something... but as soon as he leaves you he forgets about it. all kinds of pressure are brought to bear upon him, he is not a free man. j. is it true that the tsarina has much influence? a. it is only too true. her influence is irresistible. what is worse she never comes out in the open. she interferes with everybody, but works behind their backs. you never can tell what she will do next. every time she comes here she makes new trouble. j. do the ministers ever consult you? a. they come, they talk. what can they do? the honest ministers leave and the worthless remain.... if it were not for the war i would resign too. if i should leave what would not they do with the army? do i not understand that sturmer and company are thinking only of an alliance with germany?... the home situation is serious. they [ministers] are purposely instigating hunger disturbances in order to provoke a revolution so as to have an excuse for breaking away from the allies and end the war. our army is now in condition to crush germany and without that there can be no real peace in europe. but a permanent peace is not wanted by sturmer and protopopov, they wish to keep the people under the heel of a strong germany. apart from the germans no one will protect them from the revolution. the pity of it all is that at the head of the government there still are men who are interested in crushing the people.] [fn: princess vasilchikov, a prominent court lady, became convinced that the empress and her ministers were ruining the country and therefore wrote her a courteous letter, pleading with her to save russia. for her pains she received an order to retire to her estate, and her husband, who held a very prominent position, left the capital with her. (_novoe vremia_, march - , .)] members of the royal family and the grand dukes urged the tsar to change his course and not ruin the country and the dynasty but he, drugged by dr. badmaev and duped by rasputin, protopopov and company, sent them all out of the capital with orders not to return until sent for. they became so desperate that they murdered rasputin but the empress remained and the government policy became more reactionary than ever and as prince iusupov said the country was drifting to destruction or to a state of anarchy. it was quite evident that the only way to save the country was through a revolution and it was merely a question whether it would come first from the top or from the bottom and when. [fn: as late as october, , the old empress saw her son at kiev and pointed to him that rasputin and the other members of the court circle would overthrow the dynasty and destroy the country but it did no good. only a few days before the outbreak of the revolution his own brother, mikhail alexandrovich, pleaded with him along the same lines and with the same success. (_rech_, march - , .)] [fn: the old and scholarly grand duke nicholas mikhailovich went to see the emperor about november , , and in order to impress him with the critical situation of the country he wrote out his ideas so as to leave them. he was received in a kindly manner by the tsar who listened to the reading of the letter and then took it over so as to read it to the empress. when he came to the place where her name was mentioned she snatched it from him and tore it up. in the course of the conversation that followed the old duke said some sharp things but he could not get anything but smiles from the tsar, and when the old man's cigarette went out the tsar lighted it for him. it was impossible to get an out and out talk, or satisfaction of any kind, and nicholas mikhailovich left the court in disgust. two days later he was requested to retire to his estate for two months. here is the grand duke's letter: "you have said more than once that you would carry on the war to a successful finish. do you believe that with the conditions as they exist at present in the rear this can be done? are you acquainted with the internal situation, not only in the interior of the empire but also on the outskirts (siberia, turkestan, caucasus)? are you told all the truth or is some of it concealed from you? where is the root of the evil? allow me to tell you briefly the essentials of the case. "so long as your method of selecting ministers was known to a limited circle only affairs went on somehow, but from the moment your system became generally known it is stupid to govern russia in that way. repeatedly you have told me that you could trust no one, that you were being deceived. if that is true then the same influences are at work on your wife, dearly beloved by you, who is led astray by [--]. [fn: the evil circle that surrounds her. you trust alexandra fedorovna--that is easy to understand. but that which comes out of her mouth is the result of clever fabrication and not the truth. if you are not strong enough to remove these influences from her, at least put yourself on guard against this steady and systematic interference of those who act through your beloved. if your persuasion is ineffective, and i am certain that you have more than once fought against this influence, try some other means so as to end with this system once for all. your first impulses and decisions are always unusually true and to the point, but as soon as another influence comes in you begin to hesitate and end up by doing something different from what you originally decided. if you should succeed in removing this continuous invasion of the dark forces there would take place at once the birth of a new russia, and there would return to you the confidence of the greater number of your subjects. all other matters would soon settle themselves. you would find people who under different conditions would be willing to work under your personal leadership. at the proper time, and that is not far distant, you can of your own free will organize a ministry which should be responsible to you and to constitutional institutions. this can be done very simply, without any force from outside as was the case with the act of october , . i hesitated a long time before venturing to tell you this truth, and i finally consented when your mother and sister urged me to do so. you are at the beginning of a new era of disturbances, i will go farther, at the beginning of a new era of attempts at assassination. believe me that in trying to loosen you from the chains that bind you i do it from no motives of personal interest and of this you and her majesty are convinced, but in the hope and in the expectation of saving you, your throne, and our dear native land from some very serious and irreparable consequences." (_rech_, march - , .) [fn: "an important rôle was played at court by dr. badmaev, rasputin's friend. there were many rumors afloat in court and it is difficult to tell the truth. but this i can say that nicholas alexandrovich was drugged with different drugs from thibet. in this rasputin took part. during the last days they brought the emperor to a state of almost total insanity and his will power was completely gone. in all matters of state he consulted the empress who led him to the edge of the precipice." interview given out by prince iusupov, in _novoe vremia_, march - , .] [fn: one of the editors of the _novoe vremia_ who has large acquaintance in the aristocratic circles of the capital told the writer that for months before the revolution it was commonly talked about in the homes of military leaders and fashionable circles that for the good of russia the empress must be killed. last fall ( ) there came to his home one of his friends, an aide-de-camp of one of the grand dukes, and confided to him that he was meditating an act of terrorism in order to get a certain person out of the way. another topic of conversation was the revolution after the war.] [fn: "i will say this--at court there reigned a kind of nightmare, each day fewer and fewer people remained there. if the revolution had not broken out from the bottom it would have from the top." interview given out by prince iusupov, in _novoe vremia_, march - , .] it is only since the political upheaval that the activities and plans of the grand dukes have become public, but the cry for a revolution on the part of the great mass of intelligent people was heard before and everywhere. on my return to russia, in february, , after an absence of a little more than two years, i noticed many changes but none greater than in the public opinion in regard to the administration. on the way across siberia, i met with many russians, some of whom were army officers, and one and all bitterly criticized the government for its mismanagement of the war, for the betrayal of russia as they called it, for its incompetency, and general worthlessness. at the capital, it was the same, everywhere, street, car, and public places, the government was denounced; there was no attempt at concealment. in the archives where i worked, which are almost under the very nose of the imperial family, the criticism was as open as in private homes. in fact there was no exception. when mention was made of the court, of rasputin, and of the empress, there was a kind of a painful smile; it was not a subject that self-respecting patriotic russians liked to talk about in public or before strangers; it was like dirty linen that ought not to be hung out for public view. there was reason enough and suffering enough to justify the complaining. petrograd was overcrowded owing to the thousands of refugees who had been driven there, rooms and apartments were difficult to find and very expensive, and the cost of living had gone up so high that it was hard for the poor to make ends meet. it was almost impossible to get about in the city, as the war had reduced the number of cabs and the few that did business asked such exorbitant fares that only the rich could afford to ride in them. the street car situation was in a hopeless tangle. even before the war there were not enough accommodations for the public, but since the opening of hostilities many of the cars had broken down and there were no mechanics to repair them and no new cars to replace them. at a time when the population increased, the transportation facilities decreased. passengers poured into the cars like a stream, filled the seats, blocked the aisles, jammed the entrance, stood on the steps, hung on behind, and clung to anything that might bear them along. difficult as it was to get into the car, it was worse to get out, and it is easier to imagine than to describe the pushing, swearing, tearing, and fighting that one witnessed. the railways were in an equally bad condition. one had to wait weeks for a ticket. men and women were crowded into the same coupés; the cars were packed so full of human beings that they suggested cattle cars, except that they were not so sanitary, for they contained people suffering from contagious diseases and were without fresh air. the food situation was very serious. for many years, russia had been the granary of europe but during the winter of - suffered from shortage of food. passengers told how in southern russia grain and flour were rotting and yet in northern russia the inhabitants were starving owing to the breakdown of the transportation system. it was pointed out that while the railway officials refused to give cars for bringing in the necessities of life, yet articles of luxury, expensive fruits, and such things did come into the city--a state of affairs which meant, of course, that some one was grafting. sugar could be obtained only by cards and in very limited quantities; flour could not be bought at all, and black, sour bread could often be had only by standing in long lines and for hours at a time. there were no shoes and people asked what became of the hides of the thousands of animals that were annually slaughtered and shot. it was said that these, like other things, were sold to germany. as usual the poorer classes suffered the most. the well-to-do sent their servants who after a time returned with bread; at the worst it was only an inconvenience, but the workman had no servants to run his errands. in the morning, the laborer left his home for his work with little or no breakfast, at noon there was no luncheon for him because his wife was standing in the bread or sugar line, and when he returned in the evening there may have been bread enough but little else. the wife was tired and discouraged, the children crying and hungry, and life became a burden. we may say that the conditions in russia were no worse than in france or germany. this is doubtless true, but there is this difference: the people of france and germany had confidence in their leaders and realized that they were doing the best that they could, while the russians knew they could put no trust in their government, that the suffering was unnecessary and was due to corruption, favoritism, and incompetency. the russians have as much patriotism and patience as any other people, but when they saw themselves abused and imposed upon they had a right to complain. in addition to the criticism of the government the other favorite topic of conversation was the revolution that would come after the war. this was discussed as openly as the problems of war; the two were bound up together, first a successful ending of the war, and then a change in government. this public denunciation and open discussion of a _coup d'état_ came as a shock to me, for i remembered quite vividly how the same people cheered the emperor when he declared war. three years ago no one would have dared to talk like that. to be sure enough was said then of the desirability of a more liberal government, but it was a far-off question, one that the next generation might have to deal with. now the talk was of an overturn immediately after the war. the court circle was not ignorant of what was being said for the spies kept them fully informed. in conversation with a journalist two months before the outbreak of the revolution, the minister of the interior, protopopov, a protégé of rasputin, said that he was aware of the revolutionary propaganda and that he was ready to face any attempt that might be made to overthrow the government. "i will not stop at anything," he remarked,... "the first thing that i shall do is to send them [revolutionaries] from the capital by the car loads. but i will strangle the revolution no matter what the cost may be." [fn: _novoe vremia_, march -april , .] he had no doubt that he could handle the situation and he inspired those about him with the same confidence, particularly the emperor whom he assured that the discontent was confined chiefly to the intelligentsia and to a small number of the gentry, and that the common people and the army were devoted to the autocracy. to the question that arises why the revolution, which was expected after the war, came off before its conclusion, the answer is that the present revolution was not planned nor desired by any one of importance; it came as a surprise to all. it just happened. if some one must have the credit or blame, it is protopopov who was at the time suspected of being queer mentally and who has since lost his reason entirely. he was so sure of himself and of his ability to put down the uprising and thereby show himself a real statesman that he concluded not to wait for the revolution to come in the ordinary course of events, but to hurry it a bit. although there is no conclusive proof for this statement, there is plenty of convincing circumstantial evidence. we know that it was proposed to have the workmen of petrograd strike on february , the day of the opening of the duma, as a protest against the government; we know also that to meet this situation, the minister of the interior had placed machine guns in the garrets, in steeples, on housetops, and other such places where they could command the important streets and shoot down the mob. the rising did not take place because miliukov, the great liberal leader, learned that the government was behind this move and that preparations had been made to slaughter the unsuspecting workmen. he, therefore, addressed them in an open letter calling on them not to make any demonstration, and they did not. for the time being the strike was off, but the air was full of discontent and restlessness, and it was difficult to say when trouble would break out again. with this in view, a number of representatives of various organizations met to discuss the situation and to determine what attitude they should take and what counsel they should give to the labor leaders. miliukov and a few others urged that all uprisings should be discouraged because they would interfere with the war, would cost the lives of many innocent persons, and would accomplish nothing. there were, however, others, especially anisimov, who argued strongly in favor of a strike, saying that this was the opportune time to overthrow the present regime and to establish a democratic government.[fn: i have this story from miliukov.] when the revolution came off and the papers of the secret police were seized, it was discovered that anisimov, who urged the revolt, was the paid agent of the government and was doubtless doing its bidding. this shows that the government instigated and abetted the uprising. but this is not all the evidence. between february and the outbreak of the revolution men impersonating miliukov went to the factories, calling on the workmen to rise against the government.[fn: i have this story from miliukov.] there is still another bit of evidence. in order to give the laboring classes cause for revolt, the food supply in the factory districts was reduced and many people suffered from hunger and in their desperation came out into the streets. during the revolutionary week little, if any, food came in, but immediately after it the soldiers found , "puds" of flour, [fn: _russkaia svoboda_, . no. , p. .] enough to last petrograd ten days, meat, besides other food hidden in police stations and elsewhere out of reach of the public. it has been said that the government instigated the uprising in order to bring about a separate peace with germany. no direct proof has as yet been produced to substantiate this charge, and the only testimony that i have bearing on this case is the statement made by commander-in-chief alexeiev in a confidential interview with a journalist already quoted. [fn: there is not the least bit of evidence to show that the emperor himself was mixed up in these intrigues. among the papers of the ministry of foreign affairs there is but one document that throws any light on the question of a separate peace during the time of the monarchy. it is a letter from the minister of the german court to the minister of the russian court insinuating a separate peace. this letter was shown, as was intended, to the tsar, who read it, put it aside, and did not answer it. this, however, does not mean that sturmer, protopopov and the clique of the empress were not planning to bring about a situation which would compel a separate peace.] these four points--the encouragement of a revolt by the secret agents, the impersonation of miliukov, the concealment of food in the factory districts, the desire of a separate peace with germany--make out a fairly good case to show that the government was behind the disturbance. aside from the reason already given for the desire of a separate peace, the other reason for the action of the ministry was this: it feared that the revolutionary movement, if permitted to take its natural course, would develop such strength that it could not be put down when it broke out, and, therefore, the minister of the interior decided to take it in hand and at the right moment crush it with such force that it would be a long time before it could raise its head again. before it was over he hoped to drag in prominent members of the duma (or the duma itself) and other revolutionary leaders, and make an end of them. this plan need not astonish us, for this method, in one form or another, had been made use of by the autocracy time and again. protopopov overreached himself, his scheme miscarried, the soldiers about the capital went back on him, and the little comedy that he had staged in which he was to play the leading part became a tragedy and the shot which was intended for the revolution hit his royal master and brought autocracy to the ground. in view of the fact that protopopov has since become insane, one wonders whether the man was mentally well balanced at the time that he was in office. but the tsar has only himself to blame for his plight; he was warned against this nominee of rasputin, but he would not take advice. early in the week of march - , , the trouble began in the factory districts. there were bread riots, car stoning, window smashing, and other such acts, which are more or less common and no one paid much attention to them. on thursday, the disturbances spread to other parts of the city and crowds began to gather on the nevski, but the throng was orderly and the police seemed to have little difficulty in keeping it on the move. friday the crowd was more bold: it marched up and down the streets, calling for bread, singing revolutionary songs, and occasionally waving a red flag and quickly snatching it back again. this, too, did not make much impression for it is well known that in russia strikes and disturbances have in view political as well as economic betterment. late friday afternoon, while i was walking on the nevski, a company of mounted police and a large number of cossacks dashed by on the way to disperse a procession that was coming towards me. when i came up to the fontanka bridge i noticed the crowd was gathered about the cossacks; it patted the horses and cheered their riders, while the police were nowhere in sight. i listened to what was being said and heard that the police tried to use their whips and swords on the people and this angered the cossacks so much that they attacked the police, killed the captain, and drove them all away. it was no secret that there was bad blood between the soldiers and the police; the former complained that while they were suffering and fighting at the front, the latter were having an easy time, enriching themselves by graft, and oppressing the soldiers' families. the soldiers and the strikers started out with one idea--hatred of the police. when the police had been dispersed, the cossacks and soldiers begged the people to move on, but they, especially the young women students who were numerous, went up to them and pleaded with them to espouse their cause. "comrades," they would say, "come over on our side, our cause is your cause." the rough, ignorant warriors were disturbed; they did not like their jobs, and in a kindly way begged the men and women to go home, but, as it did no good, for they massed again, the cossacks rode in a body into their midst and kept turning and turning until the crowd was forced from the street onto the sidewalk. in the meantime, another company of cossacks formed a line across the street, from wall to wall, and swept everybody before it into stores, courtyards, and other openings. even this did not do much good, for as soon as the horsemen passed, the mob fell in behind and cheered the cossacks. there was no roughness, but at the same time it was easy to see that the crowd did not yet know to what extent the army could be trusted. by saturday the inhabitants of the city began to feel the effect of the disorder; cars were not running, telephones were barely working, factories and shops were closed, banks and stores were locked, there was little to eat, for the only provision on hand was water; every one who could filled the tubs for fear the water mains would be blown up. the crowd on the streets was larger than ever, more red flags were in evidence, but all this failed to give the impression of a revolution. such demonstrations had been seen before; revolutionary talk was cheap and was not taken seriously. as on the day before, the soldiers and cossacks tried by gentle means to disperse the crowd, but failed, for the men and women in the crowd complained that they were hungry and pleaded with the military for the sake of their own families to stand by the people. it was easy to see that these guardians of the peace were in trouble, they knew that every word said was true, and what was more to the purpose, members of their own families were in the crowd. an officer who was sent with his company to shoot on the people told how that same morning his own sister took part in the demonstration and called for bread for her children. this was no exceptional case. but as soldiers they must do their duty and keep order. realizing that the stratagems of the day before failed in their purpose, the cossacks tried other tactics on this day. they fell behind the procession, and discharged their pistols in the air and dashed at full speed into the mob. woe unto him who did not get out of the way. but they all did; in a second there was not a person on the street. it is still a wonder how it was all done so quickly. as soon as the horsemen passed, the crowd dropped behind them and raising their hats cheered them. "comrades," they said, "come over to us, you know that the government is bad, you know how the soldiers have been killed through its incompetency, you know that our wives and children are hungry," and more such pleas. the cossacks and the other soldiers who tried to keep order were caught, they begged the crowd to break up and go home, they pointed out that they had to do their duty and that somebody might get hurt. it was reported that in some places the soldiers did fire and kill several persons. during saturday, men were sent, it is not clear by whom, to the different factories to persuade the workers to join in a great demonstration on sunday. the military commander of the city telegraphed to the emperor for orders and the latter sent word to shoot, if necessary, and to put down the uprising at any cost, and that accounts for the posters that were put up on sunday morning warning the inhabitants not to gather in the streets because the soldiers would shoot to kill. this had happened before and was no joke, and many people would not leave their homes that day. those who did had to walk; there was no other way of getting about. few people, on the whole, were on the street that morning aside from the soldiers and cossacks who were guarding the bridges and keeping an eye out for disturbances. after luncheon i started to make a call and as i passed the barracks of the volynski regiment, situated near where i lived, i saw a company of soldiers lined up, heard the command to load, to shoulder arms, to march, and off they went to the nevski. i followed them for a distance and then turned aside and went my way. in returning i had to cross the nevski and found that all avenues thither were guarded and that no one was allowed to go in that direction. i managed, however, by showing my american passport, to get through the line and reach the street. excited people were moving up and down and from them i learned that about three o'clock a number of people forced their way to the nevski and were fired upon by the soldiers and the machine guns that were concealed. among the killed of the day was a captain of police who was knocked down by a cossack. sunday night was full of excitement and fear and there were not many who slept soundly. firing was heard at different times but what it portended, none of us could tell. it became evident that the situation was becoming serious, yet we all felt that the government could handle it. when i went out on the street monday morning, the first thing i saw was the placard of the military commander announcing that unless the workmen went to the shops, they would be sent to the front the following day. groups of people were talking excitedly and from them i learned that the volynski regiment had revolted and had killed its officers, because the day before they had commanded the soldiers to shoot on the people. it seems that the soldiers returned home much excited over their deed and full of remorse. in the course of the night some of the revolutionary soldiers from the city upbraided them and they were greatly incensed with their officers and the government. they, as well as other regiments, were particularly worked up over the report that hirelings of the secret police dressed in soldiers' uniforms went about firing on the crowd and that the new recruits, under penalty of death, were commanded to shoot on the people in the streets. when in the morning the officers congratulated the men on their deed of yesterday, they jumped on them and murdered them. i heard that other regiments had also revolted; but there were so many rumors afloat that it was not easy to know what to believe. about four in the afternoon, i started for home and found the nevski full of frightened and nervous people, and hardly any soldiers. no one seemed to know what to expect. sounds of shooting were heard and they were explained as the battle between the regiments that had revolted and those that had remained loyal. in the distance columns of smoke were seen and report had it that palaces were burning. again it was difficult to know the truth. as i proceeded on my way, i was joined by the little minister of the british american church, where i had attended services the day before, where he had prayed fervently for the tsar and his family and asked god to put down the anarchists, and other lawless men. we were discussing the situation, not knowing exactly what to make of it. perhaps the word revolution passed our lips but neither of us nor those about us took it seriously. near the liteiny a gate opened and about two dozen armed soldiers led by a petty officer stepped out and marched towards the center of the street. immediately the crowd, excited and scared, scattered and ran for their lives but the soldiers motioned for them to stop and told them that they would not shoot. we left them, and proceeded on our way, trying as before to interpret what we saw. while in the midst of our discussion we were struck by a new and unfamiliar sound--tra-ta-ta, tra-ta-ta, and we instinctively knew that a machine gun was firing. in a flash the streets were cleared and my minister and i found ourselves sticking like posters against the wall. it was my first "baptism of fire" and i had enough presence of mind to observe its effect upon myself and others. physically there was no effect for no one seemed hit. i tried to locate the gun and the man behind it, but did not succeed. when the firing ceased, i went on my way. as i neared the nicholas station, there came rushing forth from around the corner a crowd of hoodlums and soldiers, with drawn swords, which they had taken from the officers, and such other weapons as they could pick up, shouting, "down with the government!" then it dawned upon me that the revolution was on in earnest, that the anarchists of yesterday's prayer had become the heroes of a great cause. what struck me most of all was the kind of men and women who made this world event. i watched them during the week, and they seemed to be in great part boys and girls, hoodlums, students, poorly dressed men and women, without organization, plans, or leaders. it is difficult to analyze the various motives that brought them out into the street. not one of the so-called revolutionists was seen, heard, shot, or wounded. when it was all over they appeared on the scene, rushing from switzerland, the united states, france, and other parts of the world, to make speeches and to divide the spoils. it was a revolution without revolutionists, unless you call the soldiers that, but they were not consciously making a revolution, and when it was done, they were thoroughly surprised and frightened. there are a number of reasons why the government collapsed so easily. it was not really overthrown but it toppled over like a rotten tree, and until it fell, the people did not realize how decayed it actually was. its misconduct of the war, scandals like that of rasputin, ministers such as protopopov discredited and disgraced the dynasty and when the end came, it had few friends who shed tears. another important factor in helping the revolution was the large number of students and liberals who served in the army. to fill the ranks and to provide educated men for officers, it was necessary to call on university students, experts in various fields of engineering, all of whom, more or less, desired a liberal government. these men worked among the soldiers and officers with a view to creating a feeling of distrust in the emperor, and the government, and its incompetence and corruption gave plenty of material for the propagandists. loyalty to the dynasty was undermined and as soon as one prop was removed, as soon as one company of soldiers went over, the others followed and the whole edifice came tumbling down. still another factor was the large number of new recruits that were stationed in the capital; they were as yet not well disciplined, obedience had not yet become a second nature to them. many of them had come from the factories, some of them were personally acquainted with the men and women who were in the demonstrations and therefore would not fire on them. had there been at the time in the city three or four old and well-disciplined regiments, or had the cossacks who were on hand not interfered with the police, the uprising would have been crushed quickly and effectively as similar affairs had been before. yet one other factor contributed to the success of the revolution and that was the over-confidence of the government. the soldiers had been loyal until now and it never occurred to those in power that they might not always be so. they made no special preparations other than placing machine guns on roofs. they did not even make use of the armored cars. when they realized that the army in the city could not be trusted, they called for troops from the front but they came too late. from the point of view of the monarchy it was unfortunate that protopopov sent the emperor to the front after having secured from him a signed blank to dismiss the duma; for if the tsar had been at tsarskoe selo, he might have been prevailed upon to make some concessions and saved the dynasty for a time at least. by tuesday morning, march , the revolution was generally accepted as a _fait accompli_; it was believed that the old despotism was gone never to return. this was followed by an outburst of idealism and patriotism such as comes but once or twice in the life of a nation. every russian was bubbling over with enthusiasm over the glorious future of his country. liberty so greatly desired, so long worked for, so much suffered for had at last come. the intelligent and persecuted russians, they who had spent years under the shadow of the police, in prison, in exile, and in siberia, had their day at last and they were eager to realize their utopia. their first demand was that all prison doors should be opened and that the oppressed the world over should be freed. the russian revolution was not a class revolution, it was brought about neither by the proletariat nor by the bourgeoisie and the aristocracy; all classes contributed, it was a national revolution. so worthless had the monarchy become that all the people were glad to get rid of it and see it go. they who helped to bring about its ruin were the first to deny it and seek safety; and even the synod, in an almost unseemly haste, took out the names of the imperial family from the prayer book. the revolution was picturesque and full of color. nearly every morning one could see regiment after regiment, soldiers, cossacks, and sailors, with their regimental colors, and bands, and revolutionary flags, marching to the duma to take the new oath of allegiance. they were cheered, they were blessed, handerchiefs were waved, hats were raised, cigarettes were distributed as mark of appreciation and gratitude to these men, without whose help there would have been no revolution. the enthusiasm became so contagious that men and women, young and old, high and low, fell in alongside or behind, joined in the singing of the marseillaise, and walked to the duma to take the oath of allegiance and having taken it they felt as purified as if they had partaken of the communion. another picturesque sight was the army trucks filled with armed soldiers, red handkerchiefs tied to their bayonets, dashing up and down the streets, ostensibly for the purpose of protecting the citizens but really for the mere joy of riding about and being cheered. one of these trucks stands out vividly in my mind: it contained about twenty soldiers, having in their midst a beautiful young woman with a red banner, and a young hoodlum astride the engine, a cigarette in one hand and a sword in the other. the streets were full of people, or "tovarishchi" (comrades), as they called one another, not only the sidewalks but in the very center, for the tramways were not running. great events were transpiring and every one who could came out to hear and to see what was going on. there were no newspapers and the street was the news center. automobiles came dashing through scattering proclamations and copies of the _izvestiia_ (a news-sheet published by a committee of newspaper men with the authority of the duma); and as the crowd made a rush to pick these up it looked for a moment as if the whole world was walking on its head and feet at the same time. those who were fortunate enough to seize a paper ran home with it to read it to the family, those who were not gathered around one of the many bonfires, made from the wooden imperial eagles, crowns, and other insignia of royalty, to listen to the reading of the news, usually by a student. the part played by the students during the revolution has not received the attention it deserves. when all others were hiding or excited it was the students who took charge of the leaderless soldiers, found food for them, collected money for their welfare, and told them what to do. it was interesting to watch with what deference the soldiers looked up to them and hung upon their words. this importance was not wholly lost upon the students, both men and women, and they read the proclamations as if they were tablets of law handed down from heaven. after the reading came the discussion. one of the favorite topics was the comparative bloodlessness of the revolution (something like killed and wounded) which proved that the russian revolution was superior to the french or any other. having started in this vein the discussion turned on the mighty and noble deeds russia was going to do now. just as it once freed europe from the yoke of napoleon so will it now liberate her from the militarism and barbarism of william and give freedom to all the world, to all nationalities, races, and creeds. the light of the world is to come from russia. the crowd meant it. the soldiers were in earnest and patriotic--the praise showered upon them and the responsibility placed upon them seemed to uplift them--the man with the hoe became a free citizen and behaved as such. on wednesday, march , the soldiers posted bulletins in different parts of the city calling on their comrades to abstain from liquor and violence and to prevent others from committing lawless deeds. not satisfied with mere words small companies of militia visited the places where drinks were sold and emptied the barrels and bottles into the gutter. for days the astoria hotel looked and smelled like a wrecked saloon after carrie nation and her associates had stoned it. for some time the whereabouts and intentions of the tsar were unknown and numerous rumors were afloat. some said that he had committed suicide, that he was in the city, that he was on the way, that he was under arrest, that he had fled the country. another interesting question was the form of the new government, should it be a republic or a constitutional monarchy. many of the educated classes and members of the duma advocated a constitutional monarchy of the english type, while others, particularly the socialistic groups, favored a republic, a democratic republic; whatever they meant by that is not clear. needless to say the great mass of people did not know the difference between one kind of government and another but they shouted as loudly as those who knew. one soldier demanded a republic like that of england, another insisted on a republic with a tsar at the head, the wife of the porter of the house where i lived cried as if her heart would break because "they wanted a republic," and some of the peasant women in the country clamored for the tsar because "if they take away the tsar they will also take away god and what will then become of the muzhik." in one place at the front several regiments almost came to blows over this question. an orator ended his eloquent speech by saying that "from now on russia will have but one monarch, the revolutionary proletariat." this phrase puzzled the soldiers, they also misunderstood the word "monarch" which they thought to be "monakh" (monk). they therefore concluded that it was planned to put a monk on the throne, and an argument arose whether they would have a monk or not. some were in favor and others opposed. by the time it got to the next regiment the question was whether they would have the monk iliodor as their ruler. it was no longer a question whether russia was to have a tsar but whether the tsar should be a monk or not, and whether it should be iliodor or some other one. strange to say, as evening came a kind of fear seized the population, particularly the more ignorant. it was difficult for them to shake off the terror of the old police; all the time that they were talking against the tsar they had a feeling that they were doing wrong, and that some one was denouncing them. it was hard for them to believe that all that they saw and heard during the day was real and that the old regime was powerless. some one would start a rumor that a monarchist general with an army was marching on the city and that he would kill and burn. early friday evening, march , as i was walking down the street, soldiers ran by me shouting for every one to get under cover for several hundred police from tsarskoe selo were coming and that there would be street fighting. frightened mothers grabbed their little ones and hurried home, storekeepers closed the shops, porters barricaded the gates, housewives extinguished the lights, and the streets became as dark and as silent as a cemetery. this lasted for an hour or more and then came more soldiers announcing that all was well, that the supposed policemen were revolutionary soldiers who had come to take the oath of allegiance. the exultation reached its highest point when the first temporary government, with prince lvov at the head, was announced. every one was pleased with the men selected, they were without doubt the ablest leaders of the country, men who had always fought for the cause of liberty and for the interests of the public. there was nothing but praise for them and assurances of support. the fact that there was a "pravitelstvo" (government) calmed the people and they gradually went back to their old occupations, but as new men, with broader outlooks and with higher aspirations. the taking of the oath of office by the new ministry was the last act of that wonderful week to be unanimously approved by the people. when the temporary government attempted to govern it was interfered with by the council of workmen's and soldiers' deputies; the cry was raised by the socialist groups that it was they who had won the revolution and that they, therefore, should have all the power. since then the country has become more and more divided against itself, love has turned into hate, joy into sorrow. the jugo-slav movement by robert j. keener [fn: as used in this paper, the term jugo-slav comprehends the serbs, croats, and slovenes, but not the bulgars. it is not necessary here to consider whether the latter are slavs or slavicized tartars, but merely to point out that since the congress of berlin in , the bulgars have taken no part in the movement which has resulted in the creation of jugo-slav nationalism. the word "jug" means "south" in slavic. it is also written "youg" and "[iu]g."] if there are miracles in history, the jugo-slav movement is a miracle. it is the story of a nation which entered its new home in the balkans in the seventh century and became divided geographically and politically, in faith and written language, and in economic and social life, until at last its spokesmen could truthfully say that it was divided into thirteen separate administrative units dependent upon fifteen legislative bodies. [fn: in the slovenes inhabiting carniola, carinthia, styria, istria, and goerz-gradisca, and the serbo-croats of istria and dalmatia, were under the direct rule of austria. trieste and its district were a part of austria. the serbs of hungary belonged to hungary proper for the most part; the croats by a fundamental agreement were entitled to autonomy in croatia. fiume, the seaport of croatia and hungary, had an administration of its own. bosnia-herzegovina possessed a diet and was under the dual rule of austria and hungary. all the provinces or districts mentioned above were governed by the two parliaments at vienna and budapest. there were, in addition, two independent serb states, serbia and montenegro. down to turkey ruled over a large number of serbs.] how did it come about that this evolution of twelve centuries, beginning with primeval unity and passing through a political, economic, and social decomposition of a most bewildering character, has once more arrived at national unity and is even now demanding the last step--political amalgamation? is it a doctrine or a dream or is it a reality? i when the jugo-slavs first occupied the western half of the balkan peninsula, they were one in speech, in social customs and ancestry, and were divided only into tribes. the slovenes, who settled in the northern end of the west balkan block, were not separated from their croat and serb kinsmen by the forces of geography, but rather by the course of political evolution. on the other hand, the croats became separated from the serbs by forces largely geographical, though partially economic and political, in nature. the slovenes gave way before the pressure of the germans who swept through the alps and down the danube and forced the slovene vojvodes to acknowledge their suzerainty and accept their religion. the germans would doubtless have succeeded in obliterating them had not the magyar invasion weakened their offensive. the slovenes, however, were left a wrecked nationality whose fate became blended with that of the habsburg possessions and who against the forces of geography--which firmly bound them to the croats--were politically riveted to the habsburg north. this division was therefore the result of forces created by man and changeable by him. the croats settled in the northwestern half of the territory south of the slovenes; the serbs roughly in the southeastern part of it. here geographical influences--the direction of the rivers and the dinaric ridges--combined with divergent political and economic possibilities, produced a dualism. the croats on the save and its tributaries naturally expanded westward and aspired to closer connection with the sea where their struggle with the remnants of roman civilization and a superior culture absorbed their energies. they developed out of their tribal state more quickly, while the serbs, further inland and amid more difficult surroundings, developed more slowly. the people who lived along the save aspired to control the dalmatian coast which military and geographical authorities claim can best be held from the mainland. the people who lived in montenegro or along the morava, which was the gateway to the peninsula, would naturally expand south and east toward the other cultural center, constantinople, and thus seek to dominate the balkan peninsula. in both cases, the attraction proved too much for feudal kings and led to the formation of cosmopolitan empires instead of strong national monarchies. the kingdoms of croatia and serbia thus parted company politically. the former became a separate kingdom attached to hungary in and to the habsburg dynasty in , while the serbs began their expansion under the nemanja dynasty late in the twelfth century and almost realized the dominion over the balkans under stephen du[s]an in the fourteenth century. this political, geographical, and economic dualism became still greater when in the serbs cast their lot with orthodoxy. the croats, like the slovenes, adopted roman catholicism, the latin alphabet, and the culture of rome. the serbs accepted greek orthodoxy, the cyrillic alphabet, and the culture of constantinople. the slovenes became a part of the austrian possessions of the habsburgs; the croats fell under the dominion of the hungarian crown and the republic of venice; and the serbs succumbed to the turks by the middle of the fifteenth century. the loss of political independence brought with it ultimately the loss of the native nobility, the sole guardians of the constitutional and historical rights of the nations down into the nineteenth century in central europe. in addition, many towns were germanized and the middle class disappeared. the jugo-slavs, like the czecho-slovaks, appeared in modern times as a nation which had lost its native nobility and had been reduced to a disarmed, untutored, and enserfed peasantry. in the absence of these leaders, the nation turned to its clergy who in order to retain their hold on the peasantry must needs ever remain national. but here again the misfortune which awaited the jugo-slavs was that historically three religions had taken deep root, the catholic among the slovenes and croats, and the mohammedan and orthodox among the serbs. we may therefore conclude the first half of the historical evolution of the jugo-slavs with the observation that political, economic, social, and geographical divisions led to their downfall as a nation and that if they ever desired to become one, each one of these chasms would have to be bridged. a solution for each of these problems--the most difficult which ever faced a nation--would have to be found; meanwhile the policy of the four masters, the german, venetian, magyar, and turk, would always be "divide and rule," in other words, to perpetuate the divergencies. ii the history of the evolution of the jugo-slavs from the sixteenth to the twentieth century has been an effort to find the means of melting down these differences until finally one--nationalism--accomplished the purpose. unity came first in the imagination and the mind, next in literature and speech, and finally in political action. the four hundred years beginning with the fifteenth and ending with the eighteenth century will be remembered by the jugo-slavs as the age of humiliation. only slavicized ragusa and indomitable montenegro kept alive the imagination of the nation which was brought back to life by the half-religious, half-national slovene poets of the sixteenth century, by the ragusan epic poet [gundulic], by the incessant demands of successive diets of the ever-weakening croatia in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, and by the progressive and zealous serbs of hungary, who ever since the fifteenth century in increasing numbers made their home there, refugees from the oppression of the turk, but who ever longed to push out from the frontier and rebuild serbia anew. [krizanic], a croat catholic dalmatian priest, a firm believer in jugo-slav and slavic unity in general, appealed to the rising russian empire to help save dying slavdom. while the turkish and the venetian empires decayed, the austrian and the russian gained courage. by the end of the seventeenth century the house of habsburg had won back all except the banat and in the eighteenth century aspired to divide the balkan peninsula in halves with the russians. along with this future foreign interference in the affairs of the balkans came the germanizing and centralizing "reforms" of maria theresa and joseph ii, whose result was to cripple still further the few constitutional and historical rights which remained to the jugo-slavs. but these "reforms" had nevertheless salutary effects upon the nation of peasants. the enlightened despots, spurred on by the loss of silesia--which was at the same time a great loss in revenue as well as prestige--sought to make good the loss by the economic betterment and education of the peasantry. how else could an agrarian state increase its revenue and supply able-bodied men for the numerous armies which the overarmaments of frederick ii had brought upon central europe? [fn: emphasis on this fundamental fact of habsburg history in the eighteenth century cannot be too strong. the writer of this paper hopes soon to present archival proof of the far-reaching results of the seizure of silesia. the documents are to be found in the archives of the _hofkammer_ and _ministerium des innern_ in vienna.] centralization and germanization really helped to awaken the slavs. enlightened despotism gave them the weapons of political struggle--education and economic resources. of the jugo-slavs, the serbs of hungary were the first to achieve national and cultural consciousness. in the absence of a native nobility, but with unusual economic opportunities at their command, they developed a wealthy middle class--a rare thing among slavs before the middle of the nineteenth century. this class came into contact with nationalized western europe and found that the bulwark against national oppression was education for the masses. the nation must be educated and must be economically sound in order to undertake the political struggle against the germans, the magyars, and the turks. that was the background of dositej obradovi[c]'s literary labors as he raised spoken serbian ultimately to the literary language of the jugo-slavs and of karad[z]i[c]'s efforts which resulted in that wonderful collection of serbian national poems, and which clinched for all time the literary supremacy of the _[s]to_ dialect. serbian hungary was the starting place for kara george's revolution which brought partial freedom in and autonomy in and thus planted the germ of the modern greater serbia. napoleon's illyria, created in , joined for the first time slovenes and croats in one political unit, and the excellent administration and the schools left an undying memory of what might be if the habsburgs cared. vodnik, the slovene poet, sang of illyria and her creator, but it was the meteoric croat, ljudevit gaj, in the thirties, who so eloquently idealized it as he poured heated rhetoric into the camp of the magyars, who after the diet of began their unfortunate policy of magyarization. illyria, though short-lived, became the germ of the greater croatia idea, which, with greater serbia, existed as the two, not necessarily hostile, solutions of the jugo-slav problem down to the congress of berlin. it was as yet a friendly rivalry with the possible formation of two separate units. the occupation of bosnia in led to actual friction between them. on the other hand, the annexation of the same province in had just the opposite effect, for from that time the ultimate ideal was no longer greater croatia or greater serbia in any selfish sense, but jugo-slavia, because, to use a platitude, bosnia had scrambled the eggs. evidence of the fairly amicable relations between slovenes, croats, and serbs at the time of gaj is not lacking. it was gaj who reformed croatian orthography on the basis of the serbian. bleiweis and vraz endeavored to do the same in slovene. the revolution of demonstrated still further the friendly relations of these potential rivals as national unifiers. for the first time, the croats and serbs publicly fraternized and showed that the seemingly insurmountable barrier of religious difference tended to disappear in the struggle for national independence. in this sense the events of --when the hand of the foreign master was for the while taken away--have given confident hope to those who believe that jugo-slav differences are soluble. jela[c]i[c], ban of croatia, the idol of the serbo-croats, was proclaimed dictator and supported by the croatian diet at zagreb (agram) and the serbian assembly at karlovac (karlowitz). the serb patriarch raja[c]i[c] and the young and gifted stratimirovi[c], provisional administrator of the serb vojvodina, attended the croatian diet and the high mass where bishop o[z]egovi[c] sang the te deum in old slavic. after gaj, raja[c]i[c], and stratimirovi[c] had failed at vienna and pressburg to bend the dynasty or the defiant kossuth, jela[c]i[c] was empowered to defend the monarchy and bring back the historical rights of the triune kingdom and the serb vojvodina. the dynasty and the monarchy survived, but jugo-slav hopes and the promises they had received were unfulfilled or soon withdrawn, as for instance the vojvodina in . absolutism reigned supreme from to . this disappointment led the croats and serbs to try cooperation with the magyars, who under deák and eötvös appeared to be anxious to conciliate the non-magyars in those uncertain years which began in and ended in dualism. austria lacked a great statesman, and the prusso-austrian rivalry led the fearful and impatient francis joseph into the compromise (ausgleich) of . it was a work of haste and expediency and bound with it the fate of the dynasty. thereafter, the german minority in austria and the magyar minority in hungary were the decisive factors in the problems confronting the jugo-slavs. dalmatia was handed over to austria; croatia, by a compromise, which it has never really accepted, to hungary. the ausgleich between austria and hungary and hungary and croatia opened in a period which ended in --it was a period, on the one hand of the greatest decay and decomposition in the political life of the jugo-slavs, and, on the other, of the greatest literary and intellectual unity as shaped by bishop strossmayer and peter ii and nicholas of montenegro. bishop strossmayer and the slovene, croat, and serb academies, matica, and learned societies, as well as men of literature, spoke, wrote, and pleaded for unity in this period, in vain. but they and the universities of prague and zagreb produced a younger generation which later took up the fight for national unity and which abandoned individual political foibles and looked over the boundaries of their provinces for inspiration. among the slovenes, politics degenerated into the struggle for minor concessions from the court at vienna in regard to the slovene language and schools, while political parties multiplied freely through personal and social differences. the lines which bound them to their kinsmen in the south were weakest during this period. the croats found themselves no match for the astute magyars who resorted to packed diets, gerrymandering, bribery, and forgery. the compromise (nagoda) of was as decisive as the murder of the farsighted prince michael of serbia in that year. it will be remembered that, in spite of his many faults, he had made an agreement with montenegro for the ultimate merging of their states and, after allying himself with rumania, had carried out an agreement with the bulgarian committee for the amalgamation of bulgaria with serbia, thus obtaining a commanding influence in the balkans. with his death, serbia fell into the hands of milan and alexander, whose weak and erratically despotic reigns ushered in an era in serbian history from which she emerged in , through the assassination and the extinction of the last of the obrenovics, a country without a good name, a nation which, through no special fault of its own, had become degraded. it was in the midst of this political decay that the bosnians revolted in and that serbia, montenegro, russia, and rumania became involved in the russo-turkish war. space forbids but the most hasty survey of the occupation and administration by austria of bosnia and the herzegovina by virtue of the treaty of berlin in . bismarck, francis joseph, and andrassy were swayed by differing motives whose total result was that austria was to become a balkan power--the outpost of the german _drang nach osten_--and that it was worth while making a greater serbia impossible, even at the cost of increasing the number of slavs in the habsburg monarchy, which, now reenforced by the ausgleich, could stand the strain of advancing democracy and the necessity, therefore, of granting further rights to the slavs. the occupation of bosnia led to the first real quarrels in modern times between croat and serb, for the former wanted bosnia in greater croatia in order to have connection with dalmatia; the latter wished it annexed to greater serbia, because it was serbian. magyar and german, further, quarreled as to the status of bosnia and left it unsettled. but one thing was settled by the occupation in and the annexation in . neither greater croatia nor greater serbia were any longer truly possible as a final solution, only a jugo-slavia. the greater croatia received a mortal blow by the addition of serbs up to more than one third of the number of croats in austria-hungary, and serbia faced the future either as a vassal or as a territory which must be annexed. from that time until the present the habsburg monarchy, largely owing to the predominance of the magyars in croatia, adopted a policy of prevention--jugo-slav nationality was to be prevented. viewed in that light the rule of count khuen-hedérv[a]ry, ban of croatia from to , in which time, according to croats, he corrupted a whole generation, turned serb against croat, and played out the radical demands of the party of star[c]evi[c] and frank, is intelligible. the policy of count khuen, which was based on corruption and forgery, on press-muzzling and career-exploding, has since been imitated, and its imitation has been largely responsible for this war. it was not until the serbs and croats formed their coalition in that the trial of strength had come. in serbia, peter karageorgevitch ascended the throne and reversed the pro-austrian policy of his predecessor. this it will be remembered was influenced until then by the bulgarian policy of russia and by serbia's defeat at the hands of bulgaria in . the commercial treaty with bulgaria in , and the tariff war which austria began immediately afterward, pointed out which way the wind was blowing. an era big with decisive events arrived. the jugo-slavs had learned that union meant victory, division foreign mastery. petty politics and religious fanaticism were forgotten, and jugo-slav nationality was formed in the fierce fires of austro-magyar terrorism and forgery and in the whirlwind reaped from the balkan wars. it was too late to talk of trialism unless it meant independence, and, when it meant that, it did not mean austrian trialism. the treason trial by which baron rauch hoped to split the serbo-croat coalition, and which was to furnish the cause of a war with serbia on the annexation of bosnia in , collapsed. it rested on forgeries concocted within the walls of the austro-hungarian legation in belgrade where count forgách held forth. the annexation of bosnia in completed the operation begun in and called for the completion of the policy of prevention. it was the forerunner of the press campaign in the first balkan war, the prohaska affair, the attack by bulgaria upon serbia and greece, the rebuff to masaryk and pa[s]i[c], the murder of francis ferdinand, and the austro-hungarian note to serbia. the mysteries connected with the forgeries and this chain of events will remain a fertile field for detectives and psychologists and, after that, for historians. for us, it is necessary to note that, as the hand of pan-germanism became more evident, the slovenes began to draw nearer to the croats and the serbs. it remained only for the serbs to electrify the jugo-slavs--"to avenge kossovo with kumanovo"--in order to cement their loyalty to the regenerated serbs. religious differences, political rivalries, linguistic quibbles, and the petty foibles of centuries appeared to be forgotten in the three short years which elapsed from kumanovo to the destruction of serbia in . the greater serbia idea had really perished in , as had the greater croatia idea in . in their place emerged jugo-slavia--the kingdom of the serbs, croats, and slovenes--implied by the south slav parliamentary club in austria in their declaration of may , , and formulated by the pact of corfu of july , , which pasié, premier of serbia, and trumbié, the head of the london jugo-slav committee, drew up. the evolution had been completed. nationalism had proved stronger than geography, stronger than opposing religions, more cohesive than political and economic interests. for this, the jugo-slavs have not only themselves and modern progress, like railroad-building, to thank, but also the policy of the habsburg monarchy, the hopeful, though feeble, note of the allies to president wilson, the russian revolution, and the entry of the united states into the war. for the historian, it remains to examine the depth and the character of the movement. he should neither lament that it succeeded, nor frown upon it that it did not come long ago when his own nation achieved its unity. that it is a reality is proved by the fact that the central powers believed its destruction worth this catastrophic war. a nation of eleven or twelve millions holds the path to the adriatic and the aegean and the gateway to the orient and world dominion. it can help to make impossible the dream of mid-europe or of pan-germany. the jugo-slav movement has ended in the formation of a nation which is neither a doctrine, nor a dream, but a reality. appendices declaration of the jugo-slav club of the austrian parliament on may , "the undersigned deputies, assembled as the 'jugo-slav club,' taking their stand on the principle of nationalities and on the rights of the croatian state, declare that they demand that all the countries in which slovenes, croats, and serbs live shall be united in an independent and democratic state organism, free from the domination of any foreign nation and placed under the sceptre of the dynasty habsburg-lorraine. they declare that they will employ all their forces to realize this demand of their single nation. the undersigned will take part in the parliamentary labor after having made this reserve...." [fn: referring to the declaration of the jugo-slav club, may , , in the vienna parliament j. j. grgurevich, secretary of the south slavic national council, washington, d. c., writes: "in order to understand correctly this declaration, it is necessary to state that the same was presented in the vienna parliament during war time, when each, even the most innocent, word in regard to rights, principles of nationality, and liberty of peoples, was considered and punished as a crime and treason, by imprisonment, even death. "were it not for these facts, this declaration would never contain the words: 'and placed under the sceptre of the dynasty habsburg-lorraine.' it was, therefore, necessary to insert these words in order to make possible the public announcement of this declaration; it was necessary to make a moral sacrifice for the sake of a great moral and material gain, which was secured through this declaration among the people to which it was addressed and which understood it in the sense and in the spirit of the declaration of corfu."] appendix ii the pact of corfu at the conference of the members of the late (serbian) coalition cabinet and those of the present cabinet, and also the representatives of the jugo-slav committee in london, all of whom have hitherto been working on parallel lines, views have been exchanged in collaboration with the president of the skupstina, on all questions concerning the life of the serbs, croats and slovenes in their joint future state. we are happy in being able once more on this occasion to point to the complete unanimity of all parties concerned. in the first place, the representatives of the serbs, croats and slovenes declare anew and most categorically that our people constitutes but one nation, and that it is one in blood, one by the spoken and written language, by the continuity and unity of the territory in which it lives, and finally in virtue of the common and vital interests of its national existence and the general development of its moral and material life. the idea of its national unity has never suffered extinction, although all the intellectual forces of its enemy were directed against its unification, its liberty and its national existence. divided between several states, our nation is in austria-hungary alone split up into eleven provincial administrations, coming under thirteen legislative bodies. the feeling of national unity, together with the spirit of liberty and independence, have supported it in the never-ending struggles of centuries against the turks in the east and against the germans and the magyars in the west. being numerically inferior to its enemies in the east and west, it was impossible for it to safeguard its unity as a nation and a state, its liberty and its independence against the brutal maxim of "might goes before right" militating against it both east and west. but the moment has come when our people is no longer isolated. the war imposed by german militarism upon russia, upon france and upon england for the defense of their honor as well as for the liberty and independence of small nations, has developed into a struggle for the liberty of the world and the triumph of right over might. all nations which love liberty and independence have allied themselves together for their common defense, to save civilization and liberty at the cost of every sacrifice, to establish a new international order based upon justice and upon the right of every nation to dispose of itself and so organize its independent life; finally to establish a durable peace consecrated to the progress and development of humanity and to secure the world against a catastrophe similar to that which the conquering lust of german imperialism has provoked. to noble france, who has proclaimed the liberty of nations, and to england, the hearth of liberty, the great american republic and the new, free and democratic russia have joined themselves in proclaiming as their principal war aim the triumph of liberty and democracy and as basis of the new international order the right of free self-determination for every nation. our nation of the three names, which has been the greatest sufferer under brute force and injustice and which has made the greatest sacrifices to preserve its right of self-determination, has with enthusiasm accepted this sublime principle put forward as the chief aim of this atrocious war, provoked by the violation of this very principle. the authorized representatives of the serbs, croats and slovenes, in declaring that it is the desire of our people to free itself from every foreign yoke and to constitute itself a free, national and independent state, a desire based on the principle that every nation has the right to decide its own destiny, are agreed in judging that this state should be founded on the following modern and democratic principles: ( ) the state of the serbs, croats and slovenes, who are also known as the southern slavs or jugo-slavs, will be a free and independent kingdom, with indivisible territory and unity of allegiance. it will be a constitutional, democratic and parliamentary monarchy under the karageorgevitch dynasty, which has always shared the ideas and the feelings of the nation, placing liberty and the national will above all else. ( ) this state will be named "the kingdom of the serbs, croats, and slovenes." and the style of the sovereign will be "king of the serbs, croats, and slovenes." ( ) the state will have a single coat-of-arms, a single flag, and a single crown. these emblems will be composed of the present existing emblems. the unity of the state will be symbolized by the coat-of-arms and the flag of the kingdom. ( ) the special serb, croat, and slovene flags rank equally and may be freely hoisted on all occasions. the special coat-of-arms may be used with equal freedom. ( ) the three national designations--serbs, croats, and slovenes--are equal before the law throughout the territory of the kingdom, and everyone may use them freely upon all occasions of public life and in dealing with the authorities. ( ) the two alphabets, the cyrillic and the latin, also rank equally, and everyone may use them freely throughout the territory of the kingdom. the royal authorities and the local self-governing authorities have both the right and the duty to employ both alphabets in accordance with the wishes of the citizens. ( ) all recognized religions may be freely and publicly exercised. the orthodox, roman catholic and mussulman faiths, which are those chiefly professed by our nation, shall rank equally and enjoy equal rights with regard to the state. in consideration of these principles the legislative will take special care to safeguard religious concord in conformity with the spirit and tradition of our whole nation. ( ) the calendar will be unified as soon as possible. ( ) the territory of the kingdom of the serbs, croats and slovenes will include all the territory inhabited compactly and in territorial continuity by our nation of the three names. it cannot be mutilated without detriment to the vital interests of the community. our nation demands nothing that belongs to others. it demands only what is its own. it desires to free itself and to achieve its unity. therefore it consciously and firmly refuses every partial solution of the problem of its national liberation and unification. it puts forward the proposition of its deliverance from austro-hungarian domination and its union with serbia and montenegro in a single state forming an indivisible whole. in accordance with the right of self-determination of peoples, no part of this territorial totality may without infringement of justice be detached and incorporated with some other state without the consent of the nation itself. ( ) in the interests of freedom and of the equal right of all nations, the adriatic shall be free and open to each and all. ( ) all citizens throughout the territory of the kingdom shall be equal and enjoy the same rights with regard to the state and before the law. ( ) the election of the deputies to the national representative body shall be by universal suffrage, with equal, direct and secret ballot. the same shall apply to the elections in the communes and other administrative units. elections will take place in each commune. ( ) the constitution, to be established after the conclusion of peace by a constituent assembly elected by universal suffrage, with direct and secret ballot, will be the basis of the entire life of the state; it will be the source and the consummation of all authority and of all rights by which the entire life of the nation will be regulated. the constitution will provide the nation with the possibility of exercising its special energies in local autonomies delimited by natural, social and economic conditions. the constitution must be passed in its entirety by a numerically defined majority in the constituent assembly. the constitution, like all other laws passed by the constituent assembly, will only come into force after having received the royal sanction. the nation of the serbs, croats and slovenes, thus unified, will form a state of about twelve million inhabitants. this state will be the guarantee for their independence and national development, and their national and intellectual progress in general, a mighty bulwark against the german thrust, an inseparable ally of all the civilized nations and states which have proclaimed the principle of right and liberty and that of international justice. it will be a worthy member of the new community of nations. drawn up in corfu, july / , . the prime minister of the kingdom of serbia and minister for foreign affairs (sgd.) nikola p. pashitch, the president of the jugo-slav committee (sgd.) dr. ante trumbic, advocate, deputy and leader of the croatian national party in the dalmatian diet, late mayor of split (spalato), late deputy for the district of zadar (zara) in the austrian parliament. bibliographical hints the following bibliography is nothing but a selected list and it has not seemed advisable to include material which is to be found in periodicals. [fn: for further information the investigator may consult _slavic europe: a selected bibliography in the western european languages comprising history, languages, and literature_. by r. j. kerner. in press.] perhaps the most recent and best general statement of the jugo-slav problem as a whole is to be found in a. h. e. taylor's _the future of the southern slavs_ (new york, ). another useful general work is by the serb, v. r. savi[c]. the title is, _south-eastern europe: the main problem of the present world struggle_ (new york, ). this is an american edition, revised and enlarged, of the author's english work: _the reconstruction of south-eastern europe_ (london, ). the noted french historian, to whom the western world owes much of its knowledge about slavic history, ernest denis, presents an able survey of the general problem in his _la grande serbie_ (paris, ). it is written largely around serbia, like savi[c]'s book. b. vo[s]njak in _a bulwark against germany_ (london, ), and _a dying empire_ (london, ), presents to western readers, for the first time, the development of the slovene districts of austria and their relation to that empire and to the jugo-slavs. with regard to austria-hungary and the jugo-slavs in particular, the west owes most to the penetrating studies of r. w. seton-watson, who formerly wrote under the name of scotus viator. before the war, seton-watson wrote _the southern slav problem and the habsburg monarchy_ (london, ), wherein he discusses the whole problem from the point of view of the croats, in contrast to the serbs. the author subsequently rectified this point of view in _the balkans, italy, and the adriatic_ (london, ); _german, slav, and magyar_ (london, ); and _the rise of nationality in the balkans_ (london, ). numerous writers on austrian and balkan affairs have devoted parts of their general works to the jugo-slav movement. only a few typical ones can be mentioned here. paul samassa, _der völkerstreit im habsburgerstaat_ (leipzig, ), may be taken as representative of the german of the german empire. t. von sosnosky's _die politik im habsburgerreiche_ (berlin, - , vols.) is the work of an austrophil, as is also w. von schierbrand's _austria-hungary: the polyglot empire_ (new york, ); h. w. steed's _the habsburg monarchy_ (london, , d ed.) is one of the ablest surveys in the english language. it is thoroughly worked out in the general features, but slights many of the national and provincial aspects of the austrian question. v. gayda's _la crisi di un impero_ ( d ed., ), english ed., _modern austria_ (new york, ) is an unusually able work by an italian who sees clearly on every question except that of italia irredenta. a. toynbee's _nationality and the war_ (london, ) is another very useful summary of the question. the official austro-hungarian point of view has been stated in such works, among many others, as hitter von sax, _die wahrheit über die serbische frage und das serbentum in bosnien_ (vienna, ); l. mandl, _oesterreich-ungarn und serbien_ (vienna, ); c. m. knachtbull-hugessen, _the political evolution of the hungarian nation_ (london, , vols.); and numerous official publications and dossiers. the works thus far mentioned were based on numerous studies in slavic and other languages, only a few of which can be mentioned here. for the slovenes one will look into josef apih's _slovenci in leto_ (lubla[n], ); lon[c]ar's _politi[c]no [z]ivljenje slovencei_ (in bleiweis's _zbornik._ published by the matica slovenska, lubla[n], ); and vos[n]jak's _spomini_ (lubla[n], , vols.). the following will be found useful for the croats: v. klai[c], _povjest hrvata_ (zagreb, ff., vols.); r. horvat, _najnovije doba hrvatske povjesti_ (zagreb, ); milan marjanovi[c], _hrvatski pokret_ (dubrovnik, - , vols.); l. v. berezin, _khorvatsï[ia], slavonï[ia], dalmatsï[ia] i voenna[ia] granitsa_ (st. petersburg, ); i. kulakovskï[i], _illirizm_ (warsaw, ); t. smi[c]iklas, _hrvatska narodna ideja_ (rad jugo-slavenski akad. xxx); v. zagorsky, _françois ra[c]ki et la renaissance scientifique et politique de la croatie - _ (paris, ). for the serbs, a few of the fundamental works are: l. kova[c]evi[c] and l. jovanovi[c], _istorija srpskoga naroda _(belgrade, - , vols.); s. stanojevi[c], _istorija srpskoga naroda_ (belgrade, ); j. risti[c], _diplomatska istorija srbije, - _ (belgrade, - ); v. v. ra[c]i[c], _le royaume de serbie. Ã�tude d'histoire diplomatique et de droit international_ (paris, ); f. p. kanitz, _das königreich serbien und das serbenvolk von der römerzeit bis zur gegenwart_ (leipzig, - , vols.); s. gop[c]evi[c], _geschichte von montenegro und albanien_ (gotha, ); f. s. stevenson, _a history of montenegro_ (london, ).[fn: lack of space forbids special mention of works by such scholars as loiseau, vellay, laveleye, hron, masaryk, spalajkovi[c], barré, [fn (cont.): kallay, marczali, prezzolini, sokolovi[c], novakovi[c], chéradame, evans, erdeljanovi[c]. the jugo-slav propaganda societies have published in english: _the southern slav appeal; jugo-slav nationalism_ by b. vo[s]njak; _the strategical significance of serbia_ by n. zupani[c]; _the southern slav programme; a sketch of southern slav history; southern slav culture; political and social conditions in slovene lands; austro-magyar judicial crimes--persecutions of the jugo-slavs._ in french: _ceux dont on ignore le martyre (les yougo-slaves et la guerre)_; _les yougo-slaves--leur union nationale; les slovenes_ by q. krek; and the periodical _bulletin yougoslave_. h. hinkovi[c] has written the most concise statement of the case of the jugo-slavs in _the jugo-slav problem_. reprinted from the _world court magazine_ ( ).] there is a good survey of the history of the jugo-slavs in russian: g. il'inskï[i], _kratk'ï[i] kurs istorï[i] [iu]zhnikh slav[ia]n_ (kharkov, ). (c) , copyright lidija rangelovska. russian roulette russia's economy in putin's era st edition sam vaknin, ph.d. editing and design: lidija rangelovska lidija rangelovska a narcissus publications imprint, skopje first published by united press international - upi not for sale! non-commercial edition. (c) , copyright lidija rangelovska. all rights reserved. this book, or any part thereof, may not be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission from: lidija rangelovska - write to: palma@unet.com.mk or to vaknin@link.com.mk visit the author archive of dr. sam vaknin in "central europe review": http://www.ce-review.org/authorarchives/vaknin_archive/vaknin_main.html visit my united press international (upi) article archive isbn: - - - http://samvak.tripod.com/guide.html http://samvak.tripod.com/briefs.html http://economics.cjb.net http://samvak.tripod.com/after.html created by: lidija rangelovska republic of macedonia c o n t e n t s i. the security apparatus ii. the energy sector iii. financial services iv. the russian devolution - the regions v. agriculture vi. russia as a creditor vii. russia's space industry viii. russia's vodka wars ix. let my people go x. fimaco wouldn't die xi. the chechen theatre ticket xii. russia's israeli oil bond xiii. russia's idled spies xiv. russia's middle class xv. russia in xvi. russia straddles the euro-atlantic divide xvii. russia's stealth diplomacy xviii. russia's second empire xix. the author xx. about "after the rain" the security apparatus shabtai kalmanovich vanished from london in late 's. he resurfaced in israel to face trial for espionage. he was convicted and spent years in an israeli jail before being repatriated to russia. he was described by his captors as a mastermind, in charge of an african kgb station. in the early 's he even served as advisor (on russian immigration) to israel's iron lady, golda meir. he then moved to do flourishing business in africa, in botswana and then in sierra leone, where his company, liat, owned the only bus operator in freetown. he traded diamonds, globetrotted flamboyantly with an entourage of dozens of african chieftains and their mistresses, and fraternized with the corrupt elite, president momoh included. in - he even collaborated with ipe, a london based outfit, rumored to have been owned by former members of the mossad and other paragons of the israeli defense establishment (including virtually all the israelis implicated in the ill-fated iran-contras affair). being a kgb officer was always a lucrative and liberating proposition. access to western goods, travel to exotic destinations, making new (and influential) friends, mastering foreign languages, and doing some business on the side (often with one's official "enemies" and unsupervised slush funds) - were all standard perks even in the 's and 's. thus, when communism was replaced by criminal anarchy, kgb personnel (as well as mobsters) were the best suited to act as entrepreneurs in the new environment. they were well traveled, well connected, well capitalized, polyglot, possessed of management skills, disciplined, armed to the teeth, and ruthless. far from being sidetracked, the security services rode the gravy train. but never more so than now. january . putin's dour gaze pierces from every wall in every office. his obese ministers often discover a sudden sycophantic propensity for skiing (a favorite pastime of the athletic president). the praise heaped on him by the servile media (putin made sure that no other kind of media survives) comes uncomfortably close to a central asian personality cult. yet, putin is not in control of the machinery that brought him to the pinnacle of power, under-qualified as he was. this penumbral apparatus revolves around two pivots: the increasingly fractured and warlord controlled military and, ever more importantly, the kgb's successors, mainly the fsb. a. the military two weeks ago, russia announced yet another plan to reform its bloated, inefficient, impoverished, demoralized and corrupt military. close to , troops are to go immediately and the same number in the next years. the draft is to be abolished and the army professionalized. at its current size (officially, . million servicemen), the armed forces are severely under-funded. cases of hunger are not uncommon. ill (and late) paid soldiers sometimes beg for cigarettes, or food. conscripts, in what resembles slave labour, are "rented out" by their commanders to economic enterprises (especially in the provinces). a host of such "trading" companies owned by bureaucrats in the ministry of defense was shut down last june by the incoming minister of defense (sergei ivanov), a close pal of putin. but if restructuring is to proceed apace, the successful absorption of former soldiers in the economy (requiring pensions, housing, start up capital, employment) - if necessary with the help of foreign capital - is bound to become a priority sooner or later. but this may be too late and too little - the much truncated and disorientated armed forces have been "privatized" and commandeered for personal gain by regional bosses in cahoots with the command structure and with organized crime. ex-soldiers feature prominently in extortion, protection, and other anti-private sector rackets. the war in chechnya is another long standing pecuniary bonanza - and a vested interest of many generals. senior russian interior ministry field commanders trade (often in partnership with chechen "rebels") in stolen petroleum products, food, and munitions. putin is trying to reverse these pernicious trends by enlisting the (rank and file) army (one of his natural constituencies) in his battles against secessionist chechens, influential oligarchs, venal governors, and bureaucrats beyond redemption. as well as the army, the defense industry - with its million employees - is also being brutally disabused of its centralist-nationalistic ideals. orders placed with russia's defense manufacturers by the destitute russian armed forces are down to a trickle. though the procurement budget was increased by % last year, to c. $ . billion (or % of the usa's) and further increased this year to billion rubles ($ . billion) - whatever money is available goes towards r&d, arms modernization, and maintaining the inflated nuclear arsenal and the personal gear of front line soldiers in the interminable chechen war. the russian daily "kommersant" quotes former armed forces weapons chief, general anatoly sitnov, as claiming that $ billion should be allocated for arms purchases if all the existing needs are to be satisfied. having lost their major domestic client (defense constituted % of russian industrial production at one time) - exports of russian arms have soared to more than $ . billion annually (not including "sensitive" materiel). old markets in the likes of iran, iraq, syria, algeria, eritrea, ethiopia, china, india, and libya have revived. decision makers in latin america and east asia (including malaysia and vietnam) are being avidly courted. bribes change hands, off-shore accounts are open and shut, export proceeds mysteriously evaporate. many a russian are wealthier due to this export cornucopia. the reputation of russia's weapons manufacturers is dismal (no spare parts, after sales service, maintenance, or quality control). but russian weapons (often cold war surplus) come cheap and the list of russian firms and institutions blacklisted by the usa for selling weapons (from handguns to missile equipped destroyers) to "rogue states" grows by the day. less than one quarter of defense-related firms are subject to (the amorphous and inapt) russian federal supervision. gradually, russia's most advanced weaponry is being made available through these outfits. close to r&d programs and defense conversion projects (many financed by the west) have failed abysmally to transform russia's "military-industrial complex". following a much derided "privatization" (in which the state lost control over hundreds of defense firms to assorted autochthonous tycoons and foreign manufacturers) - the enterprises are still being abused and looted by politicians on all levels, including the regional and provincial ones. the russian federation, for instance, has controlling stakes in only of c. privatized air defense contractors. manufacturing and r&d co-operation with ukraine and other former soviet republics is on the ascendant, often flying in the face of official policies and national security. despite the surge in exports, overproduction of unwanted goods leads to persistent accumulation of inventory. even so, capacity utilization is said to be % in many factories. lack of maintenance renders many plant facilities obsolete and non-competitive. the russian government's new emphasis on r&d is wise - russia must replenish its catalog with hi-tech gadgets if it wishes to continue to export to prime clients. still, the russian duma's prescription of a return to state ownership, central planning, and subsidies, if implemented, is likely to prove to be the coup de grace rather than a graceful coup. b. the fsb (the main successor to the kgb) note: the kgb was succeeded by a host of agencies. the fsb inherited its internal security directorates. the svr inherited the kgb's foreign intelligence directorates. with the ascendance of the vladimir putin and his coterie (all former kgb or fsb officers), the security services revealed their hand - they are in control of russia and always have been. they number now twice as many as the kgb at its apex. only a few days ago, the fsb had indirectly made known its enduring objections to a long mooted (and government approved) railway reform (a purely economic matter). president putin made december (the day the murderous checka, the kgb's ancestor, was established in ) a national holiday. but the most significant tectonic shift has been the implosion of the unholy alliance between russian organized crime and its security forces. the russian mob served as the kgb's long arm until . the kgb often recruited and trained criminals (a task it took over from the interior ministry, the mvd). "former" (reserve) and active agents joined international or domestic racketeering gangs, sometimes as their leaders. after (and more so after ), many kgb members were moved from its bloated first (svr) and third directorates to its economic department. they were instructed to dabble in business and banking (sometimes in joint ventures with foreigners). inevitably, they crossed paths - and then collaborated - with the russian mafia which, like the fsb, owns shares in privatized firms, residential property, banks, and money laundering facilities. the co-operation with crime lords against corrupt (read: unco-operative) bureaucrats became institutional and all-pervasive under yeltsin. the kgb is alleged to have spun off a series of "ghost" departments to deal with global drug dealing, weapons smuggling and sales, white slavery, money counterfeiting, and nuclear material. in a desperate effort at self-preservation, other kgb departments are said to have conducted the illicit sales of raw materials (including tons of precious metals) for hard currency, and the laundering of the proceeds through financial institutions in the west (in cyprus, israel, greece, the usa, switzerland, and austria). specially established corporate shells and "banks" were used to launder money, mainly on behalf of the party nomenklatura. all said, the emerging kgb-crime cartel has been estimated to own or control c. % of russian gdp as early as , having absconded with c. $ billion of state assets. under the dual pretexts of "crime busting" and "fighting terrorism", the interior ministry and fsb used this period to construct massive, parallel, armies - better equipped and better trained than the official one. many genuinely retired kgb personnel found work as programmers, entrepreneurs, and computer engineers in the russian private sector (and, later, in the west) - often financed by the kgb itself. the kgb thus came to spawn and dominate the nascent information technology and telecommunications industries in russia. add to this former (but on reserve duty) kgb personnel in banks, hi-tech corporations, security firms, consultancies, and media in the west as well as in joint ventures with foreign firms in russia - and the security services' latter day role (and next big fount of revenue) becomes clear: industrial and economic espionage. russian scholars are already ordered (as of last may) to submit written reports about all their encounters with foreign colleagues. this is where the fsb began to part ways with crime, albeit hitherto only haltingly. the fsb has established itself both within russian power structures and in business. what it needs now more than money and clout - are respectability and the access it brings to western capital markets, intellectual property (proprietary technology), and management. having co-opted criminal organizations for its own purposes (and having acted criminally themselves) - the alphabet soup of security agencies now wish to consolidate their gains and transform themselves into legitimate, globe-spanning, business concerns. the robbers' most fervent wish is to become barons. their erstwhile, less exalted, criminal friends are on the way. expect a bloodbath, a genuine mafia gangland war over territory and spoils. the result is by no means guaranteed. the energy sector the pension fund of the russian oil giant, lukoil, a minority shareholder in tv- (owned by a discredited and self-exiled yeltsin-era oligarch, boris berezovsky), this week forced the closure of this television station on legal grounds. gazprom (russia's natural gas monopoly) has done the same to another television station, ntv, last year (and then proceeded to expropriate it from its owner, vladimir gusinsky). gazprom is forced to sell natural gas to russian consumers at % the world price and to turn a blind eye to debts owed it by kremlin favorites. both lukoil and gazprom are, therefore, used by the kremlin as instruments of domestic policy. but russian energy companies are also used as instruments of foreign policy. a few examples: russia has resumed oil drilling and exploration in war ravaged chechnya. about million rubles have been transferred to the federal ministry of energy. a new refinery is in the works. russia lately signed a production agreement to develop oilfields in central sudan in return for sudanese arms purchases. armenia owes itera, a florida based, gazprom related, oil concern, $ million. itera has agreed to postpone its planned reduction in gas supplies to the struggling republic to february . last month, president putin called for the establishment of a "eurasian alliance of gas producers" - probably to counter growing american presence, both economic and military, in central asia and the much disputed oil rich caspian basin. the countries of central asia have done their best to construct alternative oil pipelines (through china, turkey, or iran) in order to reduce their dependence on russian oil transportation infrastructure. these efforts largely failed (a new $ billion pipeline from kazakhstan to the black sea through russian territory has just been inaugurated) and russia is now on a charm offensive. its pr efforts are characteristically coupled with extortion. gazprom owns the pipelines. russia exports trillion cubic feet of gas a year - six times the combined output of all other regional producers put together. gazprom actually competes with its own clients, the pipelines' users, in export markets. it is owed money by all these countries and is not above leveraging it to political or economic gain. lukoil is heavily invested in exploration for new oil fields in iraq, algeria, sudan, and libya. russian debts to the czech republic, worth $ . billion in face value, have just been bought by ues, the russian electricity monopoly, for a fraction of their value and through an offshore intermediary. ues then transferred the notes to the russian government against the writing off of $ . billion in ues debts to the federal budget. the russians claim that paris club rules have ruled out a direct transaction between russia (a member of the club) and the czech republic (not a member). in the last decade, russia has been transformed from an industrial and military power into a developing country with an overwhelming dependence on a single category of commodities: energy products. russia's energy monopolies - whether state owned or private - serve as potent long arms of the kremlin and the security services and implement their policies faithfully. the kremlin (and, indirectly, the security services) maintain a tight grip over the energy sector by selectively applying russia's tangle of hopelessly arcane laws. in the last week alone, the prosecutor general's office charged the president and vice president of sibur (a gazprom subsidiary) with embezzlement. they are currently being detained for "abuse of office". another oil giant, yukos, was forced to disclose documents regarding its (real) ownership structure and activities to the state property fund in connection with an investigation regarding asset stripping through a series of offshore entities and a siberian subsidiary. intermittently, questions are raised about the curious relationship between gazprom's directors and itera, upon which they shower contracts with gazprom and what amounts to multi-million dollar gifts (in the from of ridiculously priced gazprom assets) incessantly. gazprom is now run by a putin political appointee, its former chairman, the oligarch vyakhirev, ousted in a kremlin-instigated boardroom coup. foreign (including portfolio) investors seem to be happy. putin's pervasive micromanagement of the energy titans assures them of (relative) stability and predictability and of a reformist, businesslike, mindset. following a phase of shameless robbery by their new owners, russian oil firms now seem to be leading russia - albeit haltingly - into a new age of good governance, respect for property rights, efficacious management, and access to western capital markets. the patently dubious ues foray into sovereign debt speculation, for instance, drew surprisingly little criticism from foreign shareholders and board members. "capital group", an international portfolio manager, is rumored to have invested close to $ million in accumulating % of lukoil, probably for some of its clients. sibneft has successfully floated a $ million eurobond (redeemable in with a lenient coupon of . %). the issue was oversubscribed. the (probably temporary) warming of russia's relationship with the usa and russia's acceptance (however belated and reluctant) of its technological and financial dependence on the west - have transformed the russian market into an attractive target. commercial activity is more focused and often channeled through american diplomatic missions. the u.s. consul general in vladivostok and the senior commercial officer in moscow have announced that they will "lead an oil and gas equipment and services and related construction sectors trade mission to sakhalin, russia from march - , ." the oil and gas fields in sakhalin attract % of all fdi in russia and more than $ billion in additional investments is expected. other regions of interest are the arctic and eastern siberia. americans compete here with japanese, korean, royal dutch/shell, french, and canadian firms, among others. even oil multinationals scorched in russia's pre-putin incarnation - like british petroleum which lost $ million in sidanco in months in - - are back. takeovers of major russian players (with their proven reserves) by foreign oil firms are in the pipeline. russian firms are seriously undervalued - their shares being priced at one third to one tenth their western counterparts'. some russian oil firms (like yukos and sibneft) have growth rates among the highest and production costs among the lowest in the industry. the boards of the likes of lukoil are packed with american fund managers and british investment bankers. the forthcoming liberalization of the natural gas market (the outcome of an oft-heralded and much needed gazprom divestiture) is a major opportunity for new - possibly foreign - players. this gold rush is the result of russia's prominence as an oil producer, second only to saudi arabia. russia dumps on the world markets c. . million barrels daily (about % of the global trade in oil). it is the world's largest exporter of natural gas (and has the largest known natural gas reserves). it is also the world's second largest energy consumer. in , it produced million bpd and consumed half as much. in , it produced million bpd and consumed million bpd. russia has c. billion oil barrels in proven reserves but decrepit exploration and extraction equipment, and a crumbling oil transport infrastructure is in need of total replacement. more than % of oil produced in russia is stolen by tapping the leaking pipelines. an unknown quantity is lost in oil spills and leakage. transneft, the state's oil pipelines monopoly, is committed to an ambitious plan to construct new export pipelines to the baltic and to china. the market potential for western equipment manufacturers, building contractors, and oil firms is evidently there. but this serendipity may be a curse in disguise. russia is chronically suffering from an oil glut induced by over-production, excess refining capacity, and subsidized domestic prices (oil sold inside russia costs one third to one half the world price). russian oil companies are planning to increase production even further. rosneft, the eighth largest, plans to double its crude output. yukos (russia's second largest oil firm) intends to increase output by % this year. surgut will raise its production by %. last week, russia halved export duties on fuel oil. export duties on lighter energy products, including gas, were cut in january. as opposed to previous years, no new export quotas were set. clearly, russia is worried about its surplus and wishes to amortize it through enhanced exports. russia also squandered its oil windfall and used it to postpone the much needed restructuring of other sectors in the economy - notably the wasteful industrial sector and the corrupt and archaic financial system. even the much vaunted plans to break apart the venal and inefficient natural gas and electricity monopolies and to come up with a new production sharing regime have gone nowhere (though some pipeline capacity has been made available to gazprom's competitors). both russia's tax revenues and its export proceeds (and hence its foreign exchange reserves and its ability to service its monstrous and oft-rescheduled $ billion in foreign debt) are heavily dependent on income from the sale of energy products in global markets. more than % of all its tax intake is energy-related (compared to double this figure in saudi arabia). gazprom alone accounts for % of all federal tax revenues. almost % of russia's exports are energy products as are % of its gdp. domestically refined oil is also smuggled and otherwise sold unofficially, "off the books". but, as opposed to saudi arabia's or venezuela's, russia's budget is based on a far more realistic price range of $ - per barrel. hence russia's frequent clashes with opec (of which it is not a member) and its decision to cut oil production by only , bpd in the first quarter of (having increased it by more than , bpd in ). it cannot afford a larger cut and it can increase its production to compensate for almost any price drop. russia's energy minister told the federation council, russia's upper house of parliament, that russia "should switch from cutting oil output to boosting it considerably to dominate world markets and push out arab competitors". the prime minister told the us-russia business council that russia should "increase oil production and its presence in the international marketplace." it may even be that russia is spoiling for a bloodbath which it hopes to survive as a near monopoly in the energy markets. russia already supplies more than % of all natural gas consumed by europe and is building or considering to construct pipelines to turkey, china, and ukraine. russia also has sizable coal and electricity exports, mainly to cis and nis countries. should it succeed in its quest to dramatically increase its market share, it will be in the position to tackle the usa and the eu as an equal, a major foreign policy priority of both putin and all his predecessors alike. financial services an expatriate relocation web site, settler-international.com, has this to say about russian banks: "do not open a bank account in a russian bank : you might not see your deposit again." russia's central bank, aware of the dismal lack of professionalism, the venality, and the criminal predilections of russian "bankers" (and their western accomplices) - is offering "complementary vocational training" in the framework of its banking school. it is somewhat ironic that the institution suspected of abusing billions of us dollars in imf funds by "parking" them in obscure off-shore havens - seeks to better the corrupt banking system in russia. i. the banks on paper, russia has more than , banks. yet, with the exception of the -odd (two new ones were added last year) state-owned (and, implicitly, state-guaranteed) outfits - e.g., the mammoth sberbank (the savings bank, % owned by the central bank) - very few provide minimal services, such as corporate finance and retail banking. the surviving part of the private banking sector ("alfa bank", "mdm bank") is composed of dwarfish entities with limited offerings. they are unable to compete with the statal behemoths in a market tilted in the latters' favor by both regulation and habit. the agency for the reconstruction of credit organizations (arco) - established after the seismic shock of - did little to restructure the sector and did nothing to prevent asset stripping. more than one third of the banks are insolvent - but were never bankrupted. the presence of a few foreign banks and the emergence of non-bank financing (e.g., insurance) are rays of hope in an otherwise soporific scene. despite the fact that most medium and large corporations in russia own licensed "banks" (really, outsourced treasury operations) - more than % of corporate finance in - was in the form of equity finance, corporate bonds, and (mainly) reinvested retained earnings. some corporate bond issues are as large as $ million (with -months maturity) and the corporate bond market may quintuple to $ billion in a year or two, reports "the economist", quoting renaissance capital, a russian investment bank. still, that bank credits are not available to small and medium enterprises retards growth, as stanley fischer pointed out in his speech to the higher school of economics in moscow, in june , when he was still the first deputy managing director of the imf. last week, the oecd warned russia that its economic growth may suffer without reforms to the banking sector. russian banks are undercapitalized and poorly audited. most of them are exposed to one or two major borrowers, sectors, or commodities. margins have declined (though to a still high by western standards %). costs have increased. the vast majority of these fledglings have less than $ million in capital. this is because shareholders (and, for that matter, depositors) - having been fleeced in the meltdown - are leery of throwing good money after very bad. the golden opportunity to consolidate and rationalize following the crisis was clearly missed. the government's (frail) attempts to reform the sector by overhauling bank supervision and by passing laws which deal with anti-money laundering, deposit insurance, minimum capital and bankruptcy regulations, and mandatory risk evaluation models - did little to erase the memory of its collusion in the all-pervasive, massive, and suspiciously orchestrated defaults of - . russia is notoriously strong on legislation and short on its enforcement. moreover, the opaque, overly-bureaucratic, and oligarch-friendly central bank is at loggerheads with would be reformers and gets its way more often than not. it supports a minimum capital requirement of less than $ million. government sources have gone as high as $ million. the government retaliates with thinly-veiled threats in the form of inane proposals to replace the bank with newly-created "independent" institutions. viktor gerashchenko - the current, old-school, governor - is set to leave on september . he will likely be replaced by someone more kremlin-friendly. as long as the kreml is the bastion of reform, these are good news. but a weak central bank will remove one of the last checks and balances in russia. moreover, a hasty process of consolidation coupled with draconian regulation may decimate private sector russian banking for good. this, perhaps, is what the kremlin wants. after all, he who controls the purse strings - rules russia. ii. the stock exchange the theory of financial markets calls for robust capital markets where banks are lacking and dysfunctional. equity financing and corporate debt outstrip bank lending as sources of corporate finance even in the west. but russia's stock market - the worst performer among emerging markets in , the best one in - is often cornered and manipulated, prey to insider trading and worse. it is less liquid that the tel-aviv stock exchange, though the market capitalization of rts, russia's main marketplace, is up % since ( % last year alone). bonds climbed % in the same period and a flourishing corporate bonds markets has erupted on the scene. many regard this surge as a speculative bubble inflated by the high level of oil prices. others (mostly western brokerage houses) swear that the market is undervalued, having fallen by more than % in . russia is different - they say - it is better managed, sports budget and trade surpluses, is less indebted (and re-pays its debts on time, for a change), and the economy is expanding. the same pundits talked the rts up % in only to see it shrivel in an egregious case of asian contagion. the connection between russia's macro and micro is less than straightforward. whatever the truth, investors are clearly more discriminating. both the new york times and the economist cite the example of yukos oil (up %) versus lukoil (up a mere %). the former is investor friendly and publishes internationally audited accounts. the latter has no investor relations to speak of and is disclosure-averse. still, both firms - as do a few pioneering others - seek to access western capital markets. the intrepid investor can partake by purchasing mutual funds dedicated, wholly or partially, to russia - or by trading adr's of russian firms on nyse ( - times the us dollar volume of the rts). adr's of smaller firms are traded otc and, according to the new york times, one can short sell russian securities through offshore vehicles. the latter are also used to speculate in the shares of defunct russian firms ("shells") traded in the west. iii. debt markets perhaps the best judges of russia's officially minuscule economy (smaller than the netherlands' and less than three times israel's) - are the russians. when the author of this article suggested that russia's chaos was serendipitous (in "argumenti i fakti" dated october , ), he was derided by western analysts but supported by russian ones. in hindsight, the russians were right. they may be right today as well when they claim that russia has never been better. the ruble devaluation (which made russian goods competitive) and rising oil prices yielded a trade surplus of more than $ billion last year. for the first time in its modern and turbulent history, russia was able to prepay both foreign (imf) and domestic debts (it redeemed state bonds ahead of maturity). it is no longer the imf's largest debtor. its central bank boasts $ billion in foreign exchange reserves. exactly a year ago, russia tried to extort a partial debt write-off from its creditors (as it has done numerous times in its post-communist decade). but russia's oft-abused creditors and investors seem to have surprisingly short memories and an unsurpassed capacity for masochistic self-delusion. stratfor.com reports ("russia buys financial maneuverability" dated january , ) that "deutsche bank jan. granted vneshekonombank a $ million loan, the largest private loan to a russian bank since the ruble crisis. as russia works to reintegrate into the global financial network, the cost of domestic borrowing should drop. that should spur a fresh wave of domestically financed development, which is essential considering russia's dearth of foreign investment." the strategic forecasting firm also predicts the emergence of a thriving mortgage finance market (there is almost none now). one of the reasons is a belated november pension reform which allows the investment of retirement funds in debt instruments - such as mortgages. a similar virtuous cycle transpired in kazakhstan. last year the central bank allowed individuals to invest up to $ , outside russia. iv. the bandits in august , a year and four days after moscow's $ billion default, the new york times reported a $ billion money laundering operation which involved, inter alia, the bank of new york and russia's first representative to the imf. the russian central bank invested billions of dollars (through an offshore entity) in the infamous russian gko (dollar-denominated bonds) market, thus helping to drive yields to a vertiginous %. staff members and collaborators of the now dismantled brainchild of prof. jeffrey sachs, hiid (harvard institute of international development) - the architect of russian "privatization" - were caught in potentially criminal conflicts of interest. are we to believe that such gargantuan transgressions have been transformed into new-found market discipline and virtuous dealings? putin doesn't. last year, riding the tidal wave of the fight against terror, he formed the financial monitoring committee (kfm). ostensibly, its role is to fight money laundering and other financial crimes, aided by brand new laws and a small army of trained and tenacious accountants under the aegis of the ministry of finance. really, it is intended to circumvent irredeemably compromised extant structures in the ministry of interior and the fsb and to stem capital flight (if possible, by reversing the annual hemorrhage of $ - billion). non-cooperative banks may lose their licenses. banks have been transferring daily mb of encoded reports regarding suspicious financial dealings (and all transactions above , rubles - equal to $ , ) since february - when the kfm opened for business. so much for russian bank secrecy ("did we really have it?" - mused president putin a few weeks ago). last month, mikhail fradkov, the federal tax police chief confirmed to interfax the financial sector's continued involvement in bleeding russia white: "...fly-by-night firms usually play a key role in illegal money transfers abroad. fradkov recalled that moscow banks inspected by the tax police alone transferred about $ billion abroad through such firms." itar-tass, the russian news agency, reports a drop of % in the cash flow of russian banks since anti-money laundering measures took effect, a fortnight ago. v. the foreign exchange market russians, the skeptics that they are, still keep most of their savings (c. $ - billion) in foreign exchange (predominantly us dollars), stuffed in mattresses and other exotic places. prices are often quoted in dollars and atm's spew forth both dollars and rubles. this predilection for the greenback was aided greatly by the central bank's panicky advice (reported by moscow times) to ditch all european currencies prior to january , . the result is a cautious and hitherto minor diversification to euros. banks are reporting increased demand for the new currency - a multiple of the demand for all former european currencies combined. but this is still a drop in the dollar ocean. the exchange rate is determined by the central bank - by far the decisive player in the thin and illiquid market. lately, it has opted for a creeping devaluation of the ruble, in line with inflation. foreign exchange is traded in eight exchanges across russia but many exporters sell their export earnings directly to the central bank. permits are required for all major foreign exchange transactions, including currency repatriation by foreign firms. currency risk is absolute as a court ruling rendered ruble forwards contracts useless ("unenforceable bets"). vi. the international financial institutions (ifi's) of the world bank's $ billion allocated to projects in russia since , only $ . billion went to the financial sector (compared to times as much wasted on "economic planning"). its private sector arm, the international finance corporation (ifc) refrained from lending to or investing in the financial sector from march to june . it has approved (or is considering) six projects since then: a loan of $ million to deltacredit, a smallish project and residential finance, usaid backed, fund; a russian pre-export financing facility (with the german bank, westlb); two million us dollars each to the russian-owned baltiskii leasing and center invest (a regional bank); $ . million to another regional bank (nbd) - and a partial guarantee for a $ million bond issued by russian standard bank. there is also $ million loan to probusiness bank. another active player is the ebrd. having suffered a humiliating deterioration in the quality of its russian assets portfolio in - , it is active there again. by midyear last year, it had invested c. $ million and lent another $ million to russian banks, equity and mutual funds, insurance companies, and pension funds. this amounts to almost % of its total involvement in the russian federation. judging by this commitment, the ebrd - a bank - seems to be regarding the russian financial system as either an extremely attractive investment - or a menace to russia's future stability. vii. so, what's next? no modern country, however self-deluded and backward, can survive without a banking system. the central bank's pernicious and overwhelming presence virtually guarantees a repeat of . russia - like japan - is living on time borrowed against its oil collateral. should oil prices wither - what remains of the banking system may collapse, russian securities will be dumped, russian debts "deferred". the central bank may emerge either more strengthened by the devastation - or weakened to the point of actual reform. in the eventuality of a confluence between this financial armageddon and russia's entry to the wto - the crisis is bound to become more ominous. russia is on the verge of opening itself to real competition from the west - including (perhaps especially so) in the financial sector. it is revamping its law books - but does not have the administrative mechanism it takes to implement them. it has a rich tradition of obstructionism, venality, political interference, and patronage. foreign competition is the equivalent of an economic crisis in a country like russia. should this be coupled with domestic financial mayhem - russia may be transformed to the worse. expect interesting times ahead. the russian devolution the regions russia's history is a chaotic battle between centrifugal and centripetal forces - between its oblasts (regions), cities (moscow and st. petersburg), krais (territories), republics, and okrugs (departments) - and the often cash-strapped and graft-ridden paternalistic center. the vast land mass that is the russian federation (constituted officially in ) is a patchwork of fictitious homelands (the jewish oblast), rebellious republics (chechnya), and disaffected districts - all intermittently connected with decrepit lines of transport and communications. the republics - national homelands to russia's numerous minorities - have their own constitutions and elected presidents (since ). oblasts and krais are run by elected governors (a novelty - governors have been appointed by yeltsin until ). they are patchy fiefdoms composed of autonomous okrugs. "the economist" observes that the okrugs (often populated with members of an ethnic minority) are either very rich (e.g., yamal-nenets in tyumen, with % of russia's oil reserves) - or very poor and, thus, dependent on federal handouts. in russia it is often "moscow proposes - but the governor disposes" - but decades of central planning and industrial policy encouraged capital accumulation is some regions while ignoring others, thus irreversibly eroding any sense of residual solidarity. in an imf working paper ("regional disparities and transfer policies in russia" by dabla-norris and weber), the authors note that the ten wealthiest regions produce more than % of russia's gdp (and contribute more than % of its tax revenues) - thus heavily subsidizing their poorer brethren. output contracted by % in some regions - and only by % in others. moscow receives more than % of all federal funds - with less than % of the population. in the tuva republic - three quarters of the denizens are poor - compared to less than one fifth in moscow. moscow lavishes on each of its residents times the amount per capita spent by the poorest region. nadezhda bikalova of the imf notes ("intergovernmental fiscal relations in russia") that when the ussr imploded, the ratio of budgetary income per person between the richest and the poorest region was . . it has since climbed to . all the regions were put in charge of implementing social policies as early as - but only a few (the net "donors" to the federal budget, or food exporters to other regions) were granted taxing privileges. as kathryn stoner-weiss has observed in her book, "local heroes: the political economy of russian regional governance", not all regions performed equally well (or equally dismally) during the transition from communism to (rabid) capitalism. political figures in the (relatively) prosperous nizhny-novgorod and tyumen regions emphasized stability and consensus (i.e., centralization and co-operation). both the economic resources and the political levers in prosperous regions are in the hands of a few businessmen and "their" politicians. in some regions, the movers and shakers are oligarch-tycoons - but in others, businessmen formed enterprise associations, akin to special interest lobbying groups in the west. inevitably such incestuous relationships promotes corruption, imposes conformity, inhibits market mechanisms, and fosters detachment from the centre. but they also prevent internecine fighting and open, economically devastating, investor-deterring, conflicts. economic policy in such parts of russia tend to be coherent and efficiently implemented. such business-political complexes reached their apex in - in moscow (ranked # in creditworthiness), samara, tyumen, sverdlovsk, tatarstan, perm, nizhny-novgorod, irkutsk, krasnoyarsk, and st. petersburg (putin's lair). as a result, by early , moscow attracted over % of all fdi and domestic investment and st. petersburg - another %. these growing economic disparities between the regions almost tore russia asunder. a clunky and venal tax administration impoverished the kremlin and reduced its influence (i.e., powers of patronage) commensurately. regional authorities throughout the vast federation attracted their own investors, passed their own laws (often in defiance of legislation by the centre), appointed their own officials, levied their own taxes (only a fraction of which reached moscow), and provided or withheld their own public services (roads, security, housing, heating, healthcare, schools, and public transport). yeltsin's reliance on local political bosses for his re-election only exacerbated this trend. he lost his right to appoint governors in - and with it the last vestiges of ostensible central authority. in a humiliating - and well-publicized defeat - yeltsin failed to sack the spectacularly sleazy and incompetent governor of primorsky krai, yevgeni nazdratenko (later "persuaded" by putin to resign his position and chair the state fisheries committee instead). the regions took advantage of yeltsin's frail condition to extract economic concessions: a bigger share of the tax pie, the right to purchase a portion of the raw materials mined in the region at "cost" (sakha), the right to borrow independently (though the issuance of promissory notes was banned in ) and to spend "off-budget" - and even the right to issue eurobonds (there were three such issues in ). many regions cut red tape, introduced transparent bookkeeping, lured foreign investors with tax breaks, and liberalized land ownership. bikalova (imf) identifies three major problems in the fiscal relationship between centre and regions in the yeltsin era: "( ) the absence of an objective normative basis for allocating budget revenues, ( ) the lack of interest shown by local and regional governments in developing their own revenues and cutting their expenditures, and ( ) the federal government's practice of making transfer payments to federation members without taking account of the other state subsidies and grants they receive." then came russia's financial meltdown in august , followed by putin's disorientating ascendance. a redistribution of power in moscow's favor seemed imminent. but it was not to be. the recommendations of a committee, composed of representatives of the government, the federation council, and the duma, were incorporated in a series of laws and in the budget, which re-defined the fiscal give and take between regions and centre. federal taxes include the enterprise profit tax, the value-added tax (vat), excise, the personal income tax (all of it returned to the regions), the minerals extraction tax, customs and duties, and other "contributions" . this legislation was further augmented in april-may (by the "federalism development program - "). the regions are allowed to tax the property of organizations, sales, real estate, roads, transportation, and gambling enterprises, and regional license fees (all tax rates are set by the center, though). municipal taxes include the land tax, individual property, inheritance, and gift taxes, advertising tax, and license fees. the imf notes that "more than percent of sub-national revenues come from federal tax sharing. revenues actually raised by regional and local governments account for less than percent of their expenditures". the federal government has also signed more than special economic "contracts" with the richer, donor and exporting, regions - this despite the constitutional objections of the ministry of justice. this discriminating practice is now being phased out. but it has not been replaced by any prioritized economic policies and preferences on the federal level, as the oecd has noted. one of putin's first acts was to submit a package of laws to the state duma in may . the crux of the proposed legislation was to endow the president with the power to sack regional elected officials at will. the alarmed governors forgot their petty squabbles and in a rare show of self-interested unity fenced the bill with restrictions. the president can fire a governor, said the final version, only if a court rules that the latter failed to incorporate federal legislation in regional laws, or if charged with serious criminal offenses. the wholesale dismissal of regional legislatures requires the approval of the state duma. some republics insist that even these truncated powers are excessive and russia's constitutional court is currently weighing their arguments. putin then resorted to another stratagem. he established, two years ago, by decree, a bureaucratic layer between centre and regions: seven administrative mega-regions whose role is to make sure that federal laws are both adopted and enforced at the local level. the presidential envoys report back to the kremlin but, otherwise, are fairly harmless - and useless. they did succeed, however, in forcing local elections upon the likes of ingushetiya - and to organize all federal workers in regional federal collegiums, subordinated to the kremlin. the war in chechnya was meant to be another unequivocal message that cessation is not an option, that there are limits to regional autonomy, and that the center - as authoritative as ever - is back. it, too, flopped painfully when chechnya evolved into a second - internal - afghani quagmire. having failed thrice, putin is lately leaning in favor of restoring and even increasing the federation council's erstwhile powers at the expense of the (incensed) duma. governors have sensed the changing winds and have acted to trample over democratic institutions in their regions. thus, the governor of orenburg has abolished the direct elections of mayors in his oblast. russia's big business is moving in as well in an attempt to elect its own mayors (for instance, in irkutsk). regional finances are in bad shape. only out regions managed, by february, to pay their civil servants their december salaries (raised % - or . % of gdp - by the benevolent president). many regions had to go deeper into deficit to do so. salaries make three quarters of regional budgets. the east-west institute reports that arrears have increased % in january alone - to billion rubles (c. $ billion). the finance ministry is considering to declare seven regions bankrupt. yet another committee, headed by deputy head of the presidential administration, dimitri kozak, is on the verge of establishing an external administration for insolvent regions. the recent housing reform - which would force russians to pay market prices for their apartments and would subsidize the poor directly (rather than through the regional and municipal authorities) - is likely to further weaken regional balance sheets. luckily for russia, the regions are less cantankerous and restive now. the emphasis has shifted from narcissistic posturing to economic survival and prosperity. the moscow region still attracts the bulk of russian domestic and foreign investments, leaving the regions to make do with leftovers. sergei kirienko, a former short lived prime minister, and, currently the president's envoy to the politically mighty volga okrug, attributes this gap, in a comment to radio free europe, to non-harmonized business legislation (between center and regions). boris nemtsov, a member of the duma (and former deputy prime minister) thinks that the problem is a "lack of democratic structures" - press freedom, civil society, and democratic government. others attribute the deficient interest to a dearth of safety and safe institutions, propagated by entrenched interest groups. small business is back in fashion after years of investments in behemoths such as gazprom and lukoil. politicians make small to medium enterprises a staple of their speeches. the ebrd has revived its moribund small business funds (and grants up to $ , loans to eligible enterprises). bank lending is still absent (together with a banking system) - but foreign investment banks and retail banks are making hesitant inroads into the regional markets. small businessmen are more assertive and often demonstrate against adverse tax laws, high prices, and poor governance. russia is at a crossroad. it must choose which of the many models of federalism to adopt. it can either strengthen the center at the expense of the regions, transforming the latter into mere tax collectors and law enforcement agents - or devolve more powers to tax and spend to the regions. the pendulum swings. putin appears sometimes to be an avowed centralist - and at other times a liberal. contrary to reports in the western media, putin failed to subdue the regions. the donors and exporters among them are as powerful as ever. but he did succeed to establish a modus vivendi and is working hard on a modus operandi. he also weeded out the zanier governors. russia seems to be converging on an equilibrium of sorts - though, as usual, it is a precarious one. russian agriculture in soviet times, kremlinologists used to pore over grain harvest figures to divine the fortunes of political incumbents behind the kremlin's inscrutable walls. many a career have ended due to a meager yield. judging by official press releases and interviews, things haven't changed that much. the beleaguered vice-premier and minister of agriculture of the russian federation admitted openly last october that what remains of russia's agriculture is "in a critical situation" (though he has since hastily reversed himself). with debts of $ billion, he may well be right. russian decision makers recently celebrated the reversal of a decade-old trend: meat production went up % and milk production - by double that. but the truth is, surprisingly, a lot rosier. agricultural output has been growing for four years now (last year by more than %). even much maligned sectors, such as food processing, show impressive results (up %). as the private sector takes over (government procurement ceased long ago, though not so regional procurement), agriculture throughout russia (especially in its western parts) is being industrialized. even state and collective farms are reviving, though haltingly so. in a recently announced deal, interros will invest $ million in cultivating a whopping million acres. additionally, russia is much less dependent on food imports than common myths have it - it imports only % of its total food consumption. despite this astounding turnaround - foreign investors are still shy. the complex tariff and customs regulations, the erratic tax administration, the poor storage and transport infrastructure, the vast distances to markets, the endemic lawlessness, the venal bureaucracy, and, above all, the questionable legal status of the ownership of agricultural land - all serve to keep them at bay. moreover, the agricultural sector is puny and disastrously inefficient. having fallen by close to half since (as state subsidies dropped), it contributes only c. % to gdp and employs c. % of the active labour force (compared to % in industry and % in services). agricultural exports (c. $ billion annually) are one fourth russia's agricultural imports - despite a fall of % in the latter after the meltdown. the average private farm is less than hectares large. though in control of % of farmland - private farms account for only % of agricultural output. much of the land (equal to c. . times the contiguous us) lacks in soil, or in climate, or in both. thus, only % of the land is arable and less than , sq. km. are irrigated. pastures make up another %. the soil is contaminated by what the cia calls "improper application of agricultural chemicals". it is often eroded. ground water is absolutely toxic. the new law permitting private quasi-ownership of agricultural land may reduce the high rents which (together with a ruble over-valued until ) rendered russian farmers non-competitive - but this is still a long way off. in the meantime, general demand for foodstuffs has declined together with disposable incomes and increasing unemployment. the main problem nowadays is not lack of knowledge, management, or new capital - it is an unsustainable mountain of debts. even with a lenient "law on the financial recovery of agricultural enterprises" currently being passed through the duma - only % of farms are expected to survive. the law calls for rescheduling current debt payments over ten years. the sad irony is that russian agriculture is now much more viable than it ever was. well over half the active enterprises are profitable (compared to % in ). the grain harvest exceeded million tons, far more than the million tons predicted by the government (though russia still imports $ billion worth of grains a year). the average crop for - was million tones (with million in ). but grain output was decimated in ( million tons) and ( million tons). luckily, grain is used mostly for livestock feed - russians consume only c. million tons annually. but by mid , russian grain reserves declined to a paltry million tons, according to usda figures. the problem is that the regions of russia's grain belt restrict imports of this "agricultural gold" and hoard it. corrupt officials turn a quick profit on the resulting shortage-induced price hikes. the geographical location of an agricultural enterprise often determines its fate. in a study ("the russian food system's transformation at close range") of two russian regions (oblasts) conducted by grigori ioffe (of radford university) and tatyana nefedova (institute of geography of the russian academy of sciences) in august , the authors found that: "... farms in moscow province are more productive than farms in equivalent locations in ryazan provinces, while farms closer to the central city of either province do better than farms near the borders of that province." it seems that well-located farms enjoy advantages in attracting both investments and skilled labour. they are also closer to their markets. but the vicissitudes of russia's agriculture are of geopolitical consequence. a hungry russia is often an angry russia. hence the food aid provided by the usa in - (worth more than $ million and coupled with soft pl- trade credits). the eu also donated a comparable value in food. russia asked for additional aid in the form of animal feed in the years - - and the usa complied. russia's imports are an important prop to the economies of its immediate and far neighbors. russia is also a major importer of american agricultural products, such as poultry (it consumes up to % of all us exports of this commodity). it is a world class importer of meat products (especially from the eu), its livestock inventory having been halved by the transition. if it accedes to the wto (negotiations have been dragging on since ), it may become even more appealing commercially. it will have to reduce its import tariffs (the tariff on poultry is % and the average tariff on agricultural products is %). it is also likely to be forced to scale back - albeit gradually - the subsidies it doles out to its own producers ( % of gdp in the ussr, less than % of gdp now). privileged trading by state entities will also be abolished as will be non-tariff obstructions to imports. whether the re-emergent center will be able to impose its will on the recalcitrant agricultural regions, still remains to be seen. a series of apocalyptic economic crises forced russian agriculture to rationalize. russia has no comparative advantage in livestock and meat processing. small wonder its imports of meat products skyrocketed. it is questionable whether russia possesses a comparative advantage in agriculture as a whole - given its natural endowments, or, rather, the lack thereof. its insistence to produce its own food (especially the high value products) has failed with disastrous consequences. perhaps it is time for russia to concentrate on the things it does best. agriculture, alas, is not one of them. russia as a creditor by: dr. sam vaknin also published by united press international (upi) russia is notorious for its casual attitude to the re-payment of its debts. it has defaulted and re-scheduled its obligations more times in the last decade than it has in the preceding century. yet, russia is also one of the world's largest creditor nations. it is owed more than $ billion by cuba alone and many dozens of additional billions by other failed states. indeed, the dismal quality of its forlorn portfolio wouldn't shame a japanese bank. in the months to may , it has received only $ million in repayments. it is still hoping to triple this trifle amount by joining the paris club - as a creditor nation. the countries with paris club agreements owe roughly half of what russia claims. some of them - algeria in cash, vietnam in kind - have been paying back intermittently. others have abstained. russia has spent the last two years negotiating generous package deals - rescheduling, write-offs, grace periods measured in years - with its most obtuse debtors. even the likes of yemen, mozambique, and madagascar - started coughing up - though not syria which owes $ billion for weapons purchases two decades ago. but the result of these herculean efforts is meager. russia expects to get back an extra $ million a year. by comparison, in alone russia received $ million from india. the sticking point is a communist-era fiction. when the ussr expired it was owed well over $ billion in terms of a fictitious accounting currency, the "transferable ruble". at an arbitrary rate of . to the us dollar, protest many debtors, the debt is usuriously inflated. this is disingenuous. the debtors received inanely subsidized russian goods and commodities for the transferable rubles they so joyously borrowed. russia could easily collect on some of its debts simply by turning off the natural gas tap or by emitting ominous sounds of discontent backed by the appropriate military exercises. that it chooses not to do so - is telling. russia has discovered that it could profitably leverage its portfolio of defunct financial assets to geopolitical and commercial gain. on march , russia's prime minister and erstwhile lead debt negotiator, kasyanov, has "agreed" with his mongolian counterpart, enkhbayar, to convert mongolia's monstrous $ . billion debt to russia - into stakes in privatized mongolian enterprises. mongolia's gdp is minuscule (c. $ billion). should the russian behemoth, norilsk nickel, purchase % of erdenet, mongolia's copper producer, it will have bagged % of mongolia's gdp in a single debt conversion. a similar scheme has been concluded between armenia and russia. five enterprises will change hands and thus eliminate armenia's $ million outstanding debt to russia. identical deals have been struck with other countries such as algeria which owes russia c. $ billion. the algerians gave gazprom access to algeria's natural gas exports. russia's mountainous credit often influences its foreign policies to its detriment. it has noisily resisted every american move to fortify sanctions against iraq and make them "smarter". russia is owed $ billion by that shredded country and would like to recoup at least a part of it by trading with the outcast or by gaining lucrative oil-related contracts. the sanctions regime is in its way - hence its apparent obstructionism. its recent weapons deals with syria are meant to compensate for its unpaid past debts to russia - at the cost of destabilizing the middle east and provoking american ire. russia uses the profusion of loans gone bad on its tattered books to gain entry to international financial fora and institutions. its accession to the paris club of official bilateral creditors is conditioned on its support for the hipc (highly indebted poor countries) initiative. this is no trifling matter. sub-saharan debt to russia amounted to c. $ billion and north african debt to yet another $ billion - in . these awesome figures will have swelled by yet another % by . the unctad thinks that russia intentionally under-reports these outstanding obligations and that sub-saharan africa actually owed russia $ billion in . russia would have to forgo at least % of the debt owed it by the likes of angola, ethiopia, guinea, mali, mozambique, somalia, tanzania, and zambia. russian debts amount to between one third and two thirds of these countries' foreign debt. moreover, its hopes to offset money owed it by countries within the framework of the paris club against its own debts to the club were dashed last year. hence its incentive to distort the data. other african countries have manipulated their debt to russia to their financial gain. nigeria is known to have re-purchased, at heavily discounted prices, large chunks of its $ . billion debt to russia in the secondary market through british and american intermediaries. it claims to have received a penalty waiver "from some of its creditors". russia has settled the $ . billion owed it by vietnam last year. the original debt - of $ billion - was reduced by percent and spread over years. details are scarce, but observers believe that russia has extracted trade and extraction concessions as well as equity in vietnamese enterprises. but russia is less lenient with its former satellites. two years ago, ukraine had to supply russia with sophisticated fighter planes and hundreds of cruise missiles incorporating proprietary technology. this was in partial payment for its overdue $ . billion natural gas bill. admittedly, ukraine is also rumored to have "diverted" gas from the russian pipeline which runs through it. the russians threatened to bypass ukraine by constructing a new, russian-owned, pipeline to the eu through poland and slovakia. gazprom has been trying to coerce ukraine for years now to turn over control of the major transit pipelines and giant underground storage tanks to russian safe hands. various joint ownership schemes were floated - the latest one, in , was for a pipeline to bulgaria and turkey to be built at ukrainian expense but co-owned by gazprom. after an initial period of acquiescence, ukraine recoiled, citing concerns that the russian stratagem may compromise its putative sovereignty. already ues, russia's heavily politicized electricity utility, has begun pursuing stakes in debtor ukrainian power producers. surprisingly, russia is much less aggressive in the "near abroad". it has rescheduled kirghizstan's entire debt (c. $ million) for a period of years (including two years grace) with the sole - and dubious - collateral of the former's promissory notes. russia has no clear, overall, debt policy. it improvises - badly - as it goes along. its predilections and readiness to compromise change with its geopolitical fortunes, interests, and emphases. as a result it is perceived by some as a bully - by others as a patsy. it would do well to get its act together. the space industry in eastern europe by: dr. sam vaknin also published by united press international (upi) "volga" is the name of a new liquid-fueled retrievable and reusable (up to times) booster-rocket engine. it will be built by two russian missile manufacturers for a consortium of french, german, and swedish aerospace firms. esa - the european space agency - intends to invest billion euros over - years in this new toy. this is a negligible sum in an $ billion a year market. russian rockets, such as the soyuz u and tsiklon, have been launching satellites to orbit for decades now and not only for the russian defense ministry, their erstwhile exclusive client. communications satellites, such as gonets d ("courier" or "messenger"), and other commercial loads are gradually overtaking their military observation, navigation, and communications brethren. the strategic rocket forces alone have earned more than $ million from commercial launches between - , reports "kommersant", the russian business daily. still, many civilian satellites are not much more than stripped military bodices. commercial operators and rosaviakosmos (russia's nasa) report to the newly re-established (june ) russian military space forces. technology gained in collaborative efforts with the west is immediately transferred to the military. russia is worried by america's lead in space. the usa has satellites to russia's (mostly obsolete) birds, according to space.com. the revival of us plans for an anti-missile shield and the imminent, unilateral, and inevitable american withdrawal from the anti-ballistic missile treaty add urgency to russian scrambling to catch up. despite well-publicized setbacks - such as the ominous crash at baikonur in kazakhstan in july - russian launchers are among the most reliable there are. fifty-seven of launch attempts were successful last year. by comparison, in , only out of launch attempts met the same happy fate. american aerospace multinationals closely collaborate with rosaviakosmos. boeing maintains a design office in russia to monitor joint projects such as the commercial launch pad sea launch and the iss. it employs hundreds of russian professionals in and out of russia. there is also an emerging collaboration with the european aeronautic defense and space (eads) company as well as with arianespace, the french group. a common launch pad is taking shape in kourou and the soyuz is now co-owned by russians and europeans through starsem, a joint venture. russia also intends to participate in the hitherto dormant european rlv (reusable launch vehicle) project. the eu's decision, in the recent barcelona summit, to give "galileo" the go ahead, would require close cooperation with russia. "galileo" is a $ billion european equivalent of the american gps network of satellites. it will most likely incorporate russian technology, use russian launch facilities, and employ russian engineers. this collaboration may well revive russia's impoverished and, therefore, moribund space program with an infusion of more than $ billion over the next decade. but america and europe are not the only ones queuing at russia's doorstep. stratfor, the strategic forecasting firm, reported about a deal concluded in may last year between the australian ministry of industry, science and resources and the russian aviation and space agency. australian companies were granted exclusive rights to use the russian aurora rocket outside russia. in return, russia will gain access to the ideally located launch site at christmas island in the indian ocean. this is a direct blow to competitors such as india, south korea, japan, china, and brazil. russian launch technology is very advanced and inexpensive, being based, as it is, on existing military r&d. it has been licensed to other space-aspiring countries. india's troubled geosynchronous satellite launch vehicle (gslv) is based on russian technology, reports stratfor. many private satellite launching firms - australian and others - find russian offerings commercially irresistible. russia - unlike the us - places no restrictions on the types of load launched to space with its rockets. still, launch technologies are simple matters. until , russia launched more loads annually than the rest of the world combined - despite its depleted budget (less than brazil's). but russia's space shuttle program, the energia-buran, was its last big investment in r&d. it was put to rest in . perhaps as a result, russia failed dismally to deliver on its end of the $ million iss bargain with nasa. this has cost nasa well over $ billion in re-planning. the living quarters of the international space station (iss), codenamed "zvezda", launched two years late, failed to meet the onerous quality criteria of the americans. it is noisy and inadequately protected against meteorites, reported "the economist". russia continues to supply the astronauts and has just launched from baikonur a progress m - cargo ship with . tons of food, fuel, water, and oxygen. the dark side of russia's space industry is its sales of missile technology to failed and rogue states throughout the world. timothy mccarthy and victor mizin of the u.s. center for nonproliferation studies wrote in the "international herald tribune in november : "[u.s. policy to date] leaves unsolved the key structural problem that contributes to illegal sales: over-capacity in the russian missile and space industry and the inability or unwillingness of moscow to do anything about it ... there is simply too much industry [in russia] chasing too few legitimate dollars, rubles or euros. [downsizing] and restructuring must be a major part of any initiative that seeks to stop russian missile firms from selling 'excess production' to those who should not have them." the official space industry has little choice but to resort to missile proliferation for its survival. the russian domestic market is inefficient, technologically backward, and lacks venture capital. it is thus unable to foster innovation and reward innovators in the space industry. its biggest clients - government and budget-funded agencies - rarely pay or pay late. prices for space-related services do not reflect market realities. according to fas.org's comprehensive survey of the russian space industry, investment in replacement of capital assets deteriorated from percent in to . percent in . in the same period, costs of materials shot up times, cost of hardware services went up by times, while labour costs increased -fold. the average salary in the space industry, once a multiple of the russian average wage, has now fallen beneath it. the resulting brain drain was crippling. more than percent of all workers left - and more than half of all the experts. private firms are doing somewhat better, though. a russian company unveiled, two weeks ago, a reusable vehicle for space tourism. the ticket price - $ , for a -minutes trip. one hundred tickets were already sold. the mock-up was exposed to the public in a russian air base. as opposed to grandiosity-stricken russia, kazakhstan has few pretensions to being anything but a convenient launching pad. it reluctantly rents out baikonur, its main site, to russia for an $ million a year. russia pays late, reports accidents even later, and pollutes the area frequently. baikonur is only one of a few civilian launch sites (kapustin yar, plesetsk). it is supposed to be abandoned by russia in favor of svobodny, a new ( ) site. kazakhstan expressed interest in a russian-kazakh-ukrainian carrier rocket, the sodruzhestvo. it is even budgeted for in the russian-kazakh space program budget - . but both the russians and the ukrainians were unable to cough up the necessary funds and the project was put on indefinite hold. umirzak sultangazin, the head of the kazakh institute for space research, complained bitterly in an interview he granted last year to the russian-language "karavan": "our own satellite is an dire need. so far, we are using data "received" from us and russian satellites. some information we use is free, but we have to pay for certain others ... we have high-class specialists but they are leaving the institute for commercial structures because they are offered several times bigger salaries. i have many times raised this question and said: look, russia pays us not a small amount to lease baykonur [some m dollars a year], why should we not spend part of this money on space research? we could have developed the space sector and become a real space power." kazakhstan has its own earth profiling program administered by its own cosmonauts. it runs biological and physical experiments in orbit. the "tokhtar" is a potato developed in space and named after kazakhstan's first astronaut, the eponymous tokhtar aubakirov. almost all the former satellites of the ussr have established their own space programs after they broke away, vowing never again to be dependent on foreign good will. romania founded rosa, the romanian space agency in . hungary created the hungarian space office. the baltic states - to the vocal dismay of many of their citizens - work closely with nato on military applications of satellites within the framework of baltnet (the baltic air space control project). poland ( ), hungary ( ), romania ( ) and the czech republic have been cooperating with esa on a variety of space-related commercial and civil projects. ukraine hedges its bets. it signed with brazil a space industry bilateral accord in january. a month later it signed five bilateral agreements regarding the space industry with russia. many western academic institutions, ngo's, and commercial interests created frameworks for collaboration with space scientists from central asia, central and eastern europe, russia, cis, and nis. the university of maryland pioneered this trend with its east-west space science center, formed in . the space industry - and particularly the emerging field of launch technologies - represents one of the few areas in which the former communist countries may retain a competitive edge and a relative advantage. the west would do well to encourage the commercialization of this knowledge. the alternative is proliferation of missile technologies and military applications of technology transferred within collaborative efforts on civilian projects with western partners. the west can save itself a lot of money and heartache by being generous early on. russia's vodka wars by: dr. sam vaknin also published by united press international (upi) vodka is a crucial component in russian life. and in russian death. alcohol-related accidents and cardiac arrests have already decimated russian life expectancy by well over a decade during the last decade alone. vodka is also big business. the brand "stolichnaya" sells $ billion a year worldwide. hence the interminable and inordinately bitter battle between the russian ministry of agriculture and spi spirits. the latter, still partly owned by the state, is the on and off owner of the haloed brand "stolichnaya", james bond's favorite. spi's pr firm, burson-marsteller, posits this commercial conflict as a classic case of the violation of the property rights of hapless foreign shareholders by the avaricious and ruthless functionaries of an unreformed evil empire. they question russia's readiness to accede to the wto and its respect for the law. spi's latest press release consists of the detailed history of this harrowing tale. the brand stolichnaya, as well as others, were privatized in . the firm quotes a document, bearing the official seal of the maligned ministry, which states unambiguously: "vao sojuzplodoimport has the right to export russian vodka to the usa under the following trademarks: stolichnaya, stolichnaya cristall, pertsovka, limonnnaya, privet, privet orange (apelsinovaya), russian and okhotnichya." the privatization was completed in when the old spi was sold to the new spi spirits. the new spi claims to have assumed $ million in debt and invested another $ million to rebuild the company into "one of the world's leading vodka producers". yet, the russian government, as heavy handed as ever, clearly is unhappy with spi. it says the privatization deal was dubious and that spi paid only $ , (or maybe as little as $ , claim other sources) for the multi-billion dollar brands, including "stolichnaya", "moskovskaya", and "russkaya". the government values the brands at a far more reasonable $ million. other appraisers came up with a figure of $ . billion. the government, in a bout of new-found legal rectitude, also insists that the seller of the brands, the defunct (state-owned) spi, was not their legal owner. it also questions the mysterious shareholders of the new spi - including a holding company in tax-lenient delaware. spi's trademarks portfolio is represented by an australian law firm, mallesons stephen jaques. putin himself set up a committee for the repatriation of these and other consumer brands to the state. he craves the beneficial effects the alcohol sector's tax revenues could have on the federal budget - and on its powers of patronage. a central state-owned brand-holding and distribution company was set up less than two years ago. ever since then, the alcohol sector has been subjected to relentless state interference. spi is not the most egregious case either. "the observer" mentions that spi currently runs most of its business from inscrutable cyprus, a favorite destination for russian money launderers, tycoon tax evaders, and mobsters. spi's german distributor, plodimex, is increasingly less active - as three new off shore distribution entities (in cyprus, the dutch antilles, and gibraltar) are increasingly more so. the fsb ordered kaliningrad customs to prohibit bulk exports of stolichnaya. cases of the drink are routinely confiscated. criminal charges were brought against directors and managers in the firm. the deputy minister of agriculture is discrediting spi in meetings with its distributors and business partners abroad. he is also accused by the firm of obstructing the court-mandated registration of its trademarks. the courts have lately been good to spi, coming out with a spate of decisions against the government's conduct in this convoluted affair. but on february , the firm suffered a setback, when a moscow court ruled against it and ordered of its brands, the prized stolichnaya included, returned to the government (i.e., re-nationalized). spi is doing its best to placate the authorities. it is rumored to have offered last month to use its ample funds to supplement the federal budget. it has indicated last september that it is on the prowl for additional acquisitions in russia - a bizarre statement for a firm claiming to have been victimized. "the moscow times" reported that it is planning to sign a $ , sponsorship agreement with the russian olympic committee. summit communications, a country image specialist, placed this on its web site in november last year: "one example of a savvy russian company that has managed to do well in the west by finding the right partner is the soyuzplodimport company (see also p. ). soyuzplodimport, or spi, has the exclusive rights to export stolichnaya, which vodka lovers in the u.s. fondly refer to as 'stoli'. some % of the company's export turnover comes from the united states, thanks mostly to its strategic alliance with allied-domecq for u.s. distribution. 'i'm not sure that all americans know where russia is on the map, but most of them know what stolichnaya is,' muses andrey skurikhin, general director of spi. 'i want the quality of stolichnaya in america to create an image of russia that is pure, strong and honest, just like the vodka. at spi, we feel that we are like ambassadors and we will try to do everything to create a more objective and positive image of russia in the u.s.' " spi's troubles may prove to be contagious. allied domecq, its british distributor in america and mexico, now faces competition from kryshtal international, a subsidiary of the troubled kristal distillery, % owned by rosspirtprom, a government agency. kryshtal signed distribution contracts for "stolichnaya" with distilleries backed by the russian ministry of agriculture. allied and miller brewing have announced a $ million investment in product launch and marketing campaigns only two years ago. "stolichnaya" (nicknamed "stoli" in the states) sells million -bottle cases a year in the usa (compared to absolut's million cases). the trouble started almost immediately with the first foreign investments in spi. as early as , vneshposyltorg, a government foreign trade agency, tried to export stolichnaya in greece. this led to court action by the greeks. vodka wars also erupted between the newly-registered russian firm "smirnov" and grand metropolitan over the brand "smirnoff". the vodka wars are sad reminders of the long way ahead of russia. its legal system is rickety - different courts upheld government decisions and spi's position almost simultaneously. russia's bureaucrats - even when right - are abusive, venal, and obstructive. russia's "entrepreneurs" are a penumbral lot, more enamored with off-shore tax havens than with proper management. the rule of law and private property rights are still fantasies. the wto - and the respectability it lends - are as far as ever. let my people go the jackson-vanik controversy by: dr. sam vaknin also published by united press international (upi) the state of israel was in the grip of anti-soviet jingoism in the early 's. "let my people go!" - screamed umpteen unfurled banners, stickers, and billboards. russian dissidents were cast as the latest link in a chain of jewish martyrdom. russian immigrants were welcomed by sweating ministers on the sizzling tarmac of the decrepit lod airport. russia imposed exorbitant "diploma taxes" (reimbursement of educational subsidies) on emigrating jews, thus exacerbating the outcry. the often disdainful newcomers were clearly much exercised by the minutia of the generous economic benefits showered on them by the grateful jewish state. yet, they were described by the israeli media as zealous zionists, returning to their motherland to re-establish in it a long-interrupted jewish presence. thus, is a marvelous fiat of spin-doctoring, economic immigrants became revenant sons. congress joined the chorus in , with the jackson-vanik amendment to the trade reform act - now title iv of the trade act. it was sponsored by senator henry ("scoop") jackson of washington and rep. charles vanik of ohio, both democrats. it forbids the government to extend the much coveted "most favored nation (mfn)" status - now known as "normal trade relations" - ntr - with its attendant trade privileges to "non-market economy" countries with a dismal record of human rights - chiefly the right to freely and inexpensively emigrate. this prohibition also encompasses financial credits from the various organs of the american government - the export-import bank, the commodity credit corporation (ccc), and the overseas private investment corporation (opic). though applicable to many authoritarian countries - such as vietnam, the subject of much heated debate with every presidential waiver - the thrust of the legislation is clearly anti-russian. henry kissinger, the american secretary of state at the time, was so alarmed, that he flew to moscow and extracted from the kremlin a promise that "the rate of emigration from the ussr would begin to rise promptly from the level." the demise of the ussr was hastened by this forced openness and the increasing dissidence it fostered. jackson-vanik was a formidable instrument in the cold warrior's arsenal. more than . million jews left russia since . at the time, israelis regarded the kremlin as their mortal enemy. thus, when the amendment passed, official israel was exuberant. the late prime minister yitzhak rabin wrote this to president gerald ford: "the announcement that agreement has been obtained facilitating immigration of soviet jews to israel is causing great joy to the people of israel and to jewish communities everywhere. this achievement in the field of human rights would not have been possible but for your personal sympathy for the cause involved, for your direct concern and deep interest." and, to senator henry jackson, one of the two sponsors of the bill: "dear scoop, the agreement which has been achieved concerning immigration of soviet jews to israel has been published in this country -a few hours ago and is evoking waves of joy throughout israel and no doubt throughout jewish communities in every part of the globe. this great achievement could not have been possible but for your personal leadership which rallied such wide support in both houses of congress, for the endurance with which you pursued this struggle and for the broad human idealism which motivated your activities on behalf of this great humanitarian cause. at this time therefore i would like to send you my heartfelt appreciation and gratitude." us trade policy is often subordinated to its foreign policy. it is frequently sacrificed to the satisfaction of domestic constituencies, pressure groups, and interest lobbies. it is used to reward foreign allies and punish enemies overseas. the jackson-vanik amendment represents the quintessence of this relationship. president clinton tacitly admitted as much when he publicly decoupled trade policy from human rights in . the disintegration of the evil empire - and the privatization of russian foreign trade - has rendered the law a relic of the cold war. russian jews - including erstwhile "refuseniks", such as natan (anatoly) sharansky - now openly demand to rescind it and to allow russia to "graduate" into a permanent normal trade relations (pntr) status by act of congress. american jews - though sympathetic - would like guarantees from russia, in view of a rising wave of anti-semitism, that jews in its territory will go unharmed. they also demand the right of unhindered and unsupervised self-organization for jewish communities and a return of jewish communal property confiscated by the soviet regime. congress is even more suspicious of russian intentions. senator gordon smith, a republican from oregon, recently proposed an amendment that would deprive russia of foreign aid if it passes legislation impinging on religious freedom. together with hillary clinton, a democrat from new york, he introduced a damning jackson-vanik resolution, saying: "any actions by the united states government to "graduate" or terminate the application of the jackson-vanik amendment to any individual country must take into account ... appropriate assurances regarding the continued commitment of that government to enforcing and upholding the fundamental human rights envisioned in the amendment. the united states government must demonstrate how, in graduating individual countries, the continued dedication of the united states to these fundamental rights will be assured." the senate still refuses to repeal the jackson-vanik amendment despite its impact on six former soviet republics and other countries and despite passionate pleas from the administration. on may it passed a non-binding resolution calling for pntr with russia. jackson-vanik remained in place because of the row with russia over imports of us poultry. senator joseph biden, chairman of the senate foreign relations committee, who represents a major poultry producing state (delaware) made these statesmanlike comments following the session: "i can either be russia's best friend or worst enemy. they keep fooling around like this, they're going to have me as their enemy." mikhail margelov, chairman of the foreign relations committee of the federation council, understandably retorted, according to radio free europe/radio liberty quoting from strana.ru: "by citing the controversy over chicken legs, the democrats have openly acknowledged that jackson-vanik does not protect russian jews, but american farmers." according to itar-tass, he presented to president putin a report which blamed russia's "unstable" trade relations with the usa on the latter's "discriminatory legislative norms." the amendment has been a dead letter since , due to a well-entrenched ritual of annual presidential waiver which precedes the granting of ntr status to russia. the waiver is based on humiliating semi-annual reviews. the sole remaining function of jackson-vanik seems, therefore, to be derogatory. this infuriates russians of all stripes - pro-western reformers included. "this demonstrates the double standards of the u.s." - anatoly b. chubais, the chairman of ues, russia's electricity monopoly, told businessweek. "it undermines trust." putin called the law "notorious". in october last year, the russian foreign ministry released this unusually strongly-worded statement: "the jackson-vanik amendment has blocked the granting to russia of most favored nation status in trade with the usa on a permanent and unconditional basis over many years, inflicting harm upon the spirit of constructive and equal cooperation between our countries. it is rightly considered one of the last anachronisms of the era of confrontation and distrust." considering that china - with its awful record of egregious human rights violations - was granted pntr last year, russia rightly feels slighted. its non-recognition as a "market economy" under the jackson-vanik amendment led to the imposition of import restrictions on some of its products (e.g. steel). the amendment also prevents russia from joining the wto. worst of all, the absence of pntr also inhibits foreign investment and the conclusion of long term contracts. boeing expressed to the associated press its relief at the decision to normalize trade relations with china thus: ``stability is key in our business. we must look to months ahead in terms of building parts, planes and servicing them. it has been difficult for china to make such agreements when they don't know if they would have an export license the following year or whether the united states would allow the planes to be delivered.'' fimaco wouldn't die russia's missing billions by: dr. sam vaknin also published by united press international (upi) russia's audit chamber - with the help of the swiss authorities and their host of dedicated investigators - may be about to solve a long standing mystery. an announcement by the prosecutor's general office is said to be imminent. the highest echelons of the yeltsin entourage - perhaps even yeltsin himself - may be implicated - or exonerated. a russian team has been spending the better part of the last two months poring over documents and interviewing witnesses in switzerland, france, italy, and other european countries. about $ . billion of imf funds are alleged to have gone amiss during the implosion of the russian financial markets in august . they were supposed to prop up the banking system (especially sbs-agro) and the ailing and sharply devalued ruble. instead, they ended up in the bank accounts of obscure corporations - and, then, incredibly, vanished into thin air. the person in charge of the funds in was none other than mikhail kasyanov, russia's current prime minister - at the time, deputy minister of finance for external debt. his signature on all foreign exchange transactions - even those handled by the central bank - was mandatory. in july , he was flatly accused by the italian daily, la reppublica, of authorizing the diversion of the disputed funds. following public charges made by us treasury secretary robert rubin as early as march , both russian and american media delved deeply over the years into the affair. communist duma deputy viktor ilyukhin jumped on the bandwagon citing an obscure "trustworthy foreign source" to substantiate his indictment of kremlin cronies and oligarchs contained in an open letter to the prosecutor general, yuri skuratov. the money trail from the federal reserve bank of new york to swiss and german subsidiaries of the russian central bank was comprehensively reconstructed. still, the former chairman of the central bank, sergei dubinin, called ilyukhin's allegations and the ensuing swiss investigations - "a black pr campaign ... a lie." others pointed to an outlandish coincidence: the ruble collapsed twice in russia's post-communist annals. once, in , when dubinin was minister of finance and was forced to resign. the second time was in , when dubinin was governor of the central bank and was, again, ousted. dubinin himself seems to be unable to make up his mind. in one interview he says that imf funds were used to prop up the ruble - in others, that they went into "the national pot" (i.e., the ministry of finance, to cover a budgetary shortfall). the chairman of the federation council at the time, yegor stroev, appointed an investigative committee in . its report remains classified but stroev confirmed that imf funds were embezzled in the wake of the forced devaluation of the ruble. this conclusion was weakly disowned by eleonora mitrofanova, an auditor within the duma's audit chamber who said that they discovered nothing "strictly illegal" - though, incongruously, she accused the central bank of suppressing the chamber's damning report. the chairman of the chamber of accounts, khachim karmokov, quoted by pwc, said that "the audits performed by the chamber revealed no serious procedural breaches in the bank's performance." but nikolai gonchar, a duma deputy and member of its budget committee, came close to branding both as liars when he said that he read a copy of the audit chamber report and that it found that central bank funds were siphoned off to commercial accounts in foreign banks. the moscow times cited a second audit chamber report which revealed that the central bank was simultaneously selling dollars for rubles and extending ruble loans to a few well-connected commercial banks, thus subsidizing their dollar purchases. the central bank went as far as printing rubles to fuel this lucrative arbitrage. the dollars came from imf disbursements. radio free europe/radio liberty, based on its own sources and an article in the russian weekly "novaya gazeta", claims that half the money was almost instantly diverted to shell companies in sydney and london. the other half was mostly transferred to the bank of new york and to credit suisse. why were additional imf funds transferred to a chaotic russia, despite warnings by many and a testimony by a russian official that previous tranches were squandered? moreover, why was the money sent to the central bank, then embroiled in a growing scandal over the manipulation of treasury bills, known as gko's and other debt instruments, the ofz's - and not to the ministry of finance, the beneficiary of all prior transfers? the central bank did act as minfin's agent - but circumstances were unusual, to say the least. there isn't enough to connect the imf funds with the money laundering affair that engulfed the bank of new york a year later to the day, in august - though several of the personalities straddled the divide between the bank and its clients. swiss efforts to establish a firm linkage failed as did their attempt to implicate several banks in the italian canton of ticino. the swiss - in collaboration with half a dozen national investigation bureaus, including the fbi - were more successful in italy proper, where they were able to apprehend a few dozen suspects in an elaborate undercover operation. fimaco's name emerged rather early in the swirl of rumors and denials. at the imf's behest, pricewaterhousecoopers (pwc) was commissioned by russia's central bank to investigate the relationship between the russian central bank and its channel islands offshoot, financial management company limited, immediately when the accusations surfaced. skuratov unearthed $ billion in transfers of the nation's hard currency reserves from the central bank to fimaco, which was majority-owned by eurobank, the central bank's paris-based daughter company. according to pwc, eurobank was percent owned by "russian companies and private individuals". dubinin and his successor, gerashchenko, admit that fimaco was used to conceal russia's assets from its unrelenting creditors, notably the geneva-based mr. nessim gaon, whose companies sued russia for $ million. gaon succeeded to freeze russian accounts in switzerland and luxemburg in . pwc alerted the imf to this pernicious practice, but to no avail. moreover, fimaco paid exorbitant management fees to self-liquidating entities, used funds to fuel the speculative gko market, disbursed non-reported profits from its activities, through "trust companies", to russian subjects, such as schools, hospitals, and charities - and, in general, transformed itself into a mammoth slush fund and source of patronage. russia admitted to lying to the imf in . it misstated its reserves by $ billion. some of the money probably financed the fantastic salaries of dubinin and his senior functionaries. he earned $ , in - when the average annual salary in russia was less than $ and when alan greenspan, chairman of the federal reserve of the usa, earned barely half as much. former minister of finance, boris fedorov, asked the governor of the central bank and the prime minister in to disclose how were the country's foreign exchange reserves being invested. he was told to mind his own business. to radio free europe/radio liberty he said, six years later, that various central bank schemes were set up to "allow friends to earn handsome profits ... they allowed friends to make profits because when companies are created without any risk, and billions of dollars are transferred, somebody takes a (quite big) commission ... a minimum of tens of millions of dollars. the question is: who received these commissions? was this money repatriated to the country in the form of dividends?" dubinin's vehement denials of fimaco's involvement in the gko market are disingenuous. close to half of all foreign investment in the money-spinning market for russian domestic bonds were placed through fimaco's nominal parent company, eurobank and, possibly, through its subsidiary, co-owned with fimaco, eurofinance bank. nor is dubinin more credible when he denies that profits and commissions were accrued in fimaco and then drained off. fimaco's investment management agreement with eurobank, signed in , entitled it to . percent of the managed funds per quarter. even accepting the central banker's ludicrous insistence that the balance never exceeded $ . billion - fimaco would have earned $ . million per annum from management fees alone - investment profits and brokerage fees notwithstanding. even eurobank's president at the time, andrei movchan, conceded that fimaco earned $ . million in management fees. the imf insisted that the pwc reports exonerated all the participants. it is, therefore, surprising and alarming to find that the online copies of these documents, previously made available on the imf's web site, were "removed september , at the request of pricewaterhousecoopers". the cover of the main report carried a disclaimer that it was based on procedures dictated by the central bank and "... consequently, we (pwc) make no representation regarding the sufficiency of the procedures described below ... the report is based solely on financial and other information provided by, and discussions with, the persons set out in the report. the accuracy and completeness of the information on which the report is based is the sole responsibility of those persons. ... pricewaterhousecoopers have not carried out any verification work which may be construed to represent audit procedures ... we have not been provided access to ost west handelsbank (the recipient of a large part of the $ . imf tranche)" the scandal may have hastened the untimely departure of the imf's managing director at the time, michel camdessus, though this was never officially acknowledged. the us congress was reluctant to augment the fund's resources in view of its controversial handling of the asian and russian crises and contagion. this reluctance persisted well into the new millennium. a congressional delegation, headed by james leach (r, iowa), chairman of the banking and financial services committee, visited russia in april , accompanied by the fbi, to investigate the persistent contentions about the misappropriation of imf funds. camdessus himself went out of his way to defend his record and reacted in an unprecedented manner to the allegations. in a letter to le mond, dated august , - and still posted on the imf's web site, three years later - he wrote, inadvertently admitting to serious mismanagement: "i wish to express my indignation at the false statements, allegations, and insinuations contained in the articles and editorial commentary appearing in le monde on august , , and on the content of the pricewaterhousecoopers (pwc) audit report relating to the operations of the central bank of russia and its subsidiary, fimaco. your readers will be shocked to learn that the report in question, requested and made public at the initiative of the imf ... (concludes that) no misuse of funds has been proven, and the report does not criticize the imf's behavior ... i would also point out that your representation of the imf's knowledge and actions is misleading. we did know that part of the reserves of the central bank of russia was held in foreign subsidiaries, which is not an illegal practice; however, we did not learn of fimaco's activities until this year--because the audit reports for and were not provided to us by the central bank of russia. the imf, when apprised of the possible range of fimaco activities, informed the russian authorities that it would not resume lending to russia until a report on these activities was available for review by the imf and corrective actions had been agreed as needed ... i would add that what the imf objected to in fimaco's operations extends well beyond the misrepresentation of russia's international reserves in mid- and includes several other instances where transactions through it had resulted in a misleading representation of the reserves and of monetary and exchange policies. these include loans to russian commercial banks and investments in the gko market." no one accepted - or accepts - the imf's convoluted post-facto "clarifications" at face value. nor was dubinin's tortured sophistry - imf funds cease to be imf funds when they are transferred from the ministry of finance to the central bank - countenanced. even the compromised office of the russian prosecutor-general urged russian officials, as late as july , to re-open the investigation regarding the diversion of the funds. the imf dismissed this sudden burst of rectitude as the rehashing of old stories. but western officials - interviews by radio free europe/radio liberty - begged to differ. yuri skuratov, the former prosecutor-general, ousted for undue diligence, wrote in a book he published two years ago, that only c. $ million of the $ . were ever used to stabilize the ruble. even george bush jr., when still a presidential candidate accused russia's former prime minister viktor chernomyrdin of complicity in embezzling imf funds. chernomyrdin threatened to sue. the rot may run even deeper. the geneva daily "le temps", which has been following the affair relentlessly, accused, two years ago, roman abramovich, a yeltsin-era oligarch and a member of the board of directors of sibneft, of colluding with runicom, sibneft's trading arm, to misappropriate imf funds. swiss prosecutors raided runicom's offices just one day after russian tax police raided sibneft's moscow headquarters. absconding with imf funds seemed to have been a pattern of behavior during yeltsin's venal regime. the columnist bradley cook recounts how aldrich ames, the mole within the cia, "was told by his russian control officer during their last meeting, in november , that the $ , in fresh $ bills that he was being bribed with had come directly from imf loans." venyamin sokolov, who headed the audit chamber prior to sergei stepashin, informed the us senate of $ billion that evaporated from the coffers of the central bank in . even the imf reluctantly admits: "capital transferred abroad from russia may represent such legal activities as exports, or illegal sources. but it is impossible to determine whether specific capital flows from russia-legal or illegal-come from a particular inflow, such as imf loans or export earnings. to put the scale of imf lending to russia into perspective, russia's exports of goods and services averaged about $ billion a year in recent years, which is over times the average annual disbursement from the imf since ." the chechen theatre ticket by: dr. sam vaknin also published by united press international (upi) one hundred and eighteen hostages and of their captors died in the heavy handed storming of the theatre occupied by chechen terrorists four days ago. this has been only the latest in a series of escalating costs in a war officially terminated in . on august , a helicopter carrying russian servicemen and unauthorized civilians went down in flames. the russian military is stretched to its limits. munitions and spare parts are in short supply. the defense industry shrunk violently following the implosion of the ussr. restarting production of small-ticket items is prohibitively expensive. even bigger weapon systems are antiquated. a committee appointed by the duma, russia's lower house of parliament, found that the average age of the army's helicopters is . russia lost dozens of them hitherto and does not have the wherewithal to replace them. the russian command acknowledges fatalities and wounded but the numbers are probably way higher. the committee of soldiers' mothers pegs the number of casualties at - , . unpaid, disgruntled, and under-supplied troops exert pressure on their headquarters to air-strafe chechnya, to withdraw, or to multiply the money budgeted to support the ill-fated operation. russia maintains c. , troops in chechnya, including , active soldiers and , support and logistics personnel. the price tag is sizable though not unsustainable. as early as october , the imf told radio free europe/radio liberty: "yes, we're concerned that it could undermine the progress in improving (russia's) public finances." as they did in the first chechen conflict in - , both the imf and the world bank reluctantly kept lending billions to russia throughout the current round of devastation. a $ . billion arrangement was signed with russia in july . though earmarked, funds are fungible. the imf has been accused by senior economists, such as jeffrey sachs and marshall goldman, of financing the russian war effort against the tiny republic and its . million destitute or internally displaced citizens. even the staid jane's world armies concurred. no one knows how much the war has cost russia hitherto. it is mostly financed from off-budget clandestine bank accounts owned and managed by the kremlin, the military, and the security services. miriam lanskoy, program manager at the institute for the study of conflict, ideology and policy at boston university, estimated for "nis observed" and "the analyst" that russia has spent, by november , c. $ billion on the war, money sorely needed to modernize its army and maintain its presence overseas. russia was forced to close, post haste, bases in vietnam and cuba, two erstwhile pillars of its geopolitical and geostrategic presence. it was too feeble to capitalize on its massive, multi-annual assistance to the afghan northern alliance in both arms and manpower. the usa effortlessly reaped the fruits of this continuous russian support and established a presence in central asia which russia will find impossible to dislodge. the christian science monitor has pegged the cost of each month in the first three months of offensive against the separatists at $ million. this guesstimate is supported by the russians but not by digby waller, an economist at the international institute for strategic studies (iiss), a london-based military think tank. he put the real, out-of-pocket expense at $ million a month. other experts offer comparable figures - $ - a month. similarly, jane's defense weekly put the outlay at $ - million a day - but most of it in cost-free munitions produced during soviet times. a leading soviet military analyst, pavel felgengauer, itemized the expenditures. the largest articles are transport, fuel, reconstruction of areas shattered by warfare, and active duty bonuses to soldiers. the expense of this brawl exceed the previous scuffle's. the first chechen war is estimated to have cost at most $ . billion and probably between $ . and $ . billion. russia allocated c. $ billion to the war in its budget. another $ million were funded partly by russia's behemoth electricity utility, ues. still, these figures are misleading underestimates. according too the rosbalt news agency, last year, for instance, russia was slated to spend c. $ million on rebuilding chechnya - but only $ million of these resources made it to the budget. russia has been lucky to enjoy a serendipitous confluence of an export-enhancing and import-depressing depreciated currency, tax-augmenting inflation, soaring oil prices, and western largesse. it is also a major producer and exporter of weapons. chechnya serves as testing grounds where proud designers and trigger-craving generals can demonstrate the advantages and capabilities of their latest materiel. some - like the institute of global issues - say that the war in chechnya has fully self-financed by reviving the military-industrial complex and adding billions to russia's exports of armaments. this surely is a wild hyperbole. chechnya - a potentially oil-rich territory - is razed to dust. russia is ensnared in an ever-escalating cycle of violence and futile retaliation. its society is gradually militarized and desensitized to human rights abuses. corruption is rampant. russia's accounting board disclosed that a whopping percent of the money earmarked to fight the war two years ago has vanished without a trace. about $ million dollars in salaries never reached their intended recipients - the soldiers in the field. top brass set up oil drilling operations in the ravaged territory. they are said by rosbalt and "the economist" to be extracting up to tons daily - double the amount the state hauls. another tons go up in smoke due to incompetence and faulty equipment. there are oil wells in grozny alone. hence the predilection to pursue the war as leisurely - and profitably - as possible. often in cahoots with their ostensible oppressors, dispossessed and dislocated chechens export crime and mayhem to russia's main cities. the war is a colossal misallocation of scarce economic resources and an opportunity squandered. russia should have used the windfall to reinvent itself - revamp its dilapidated infrastructure and modernize its institutions. oil prices are bound to come down one day and when they do russia will discover the true and most malign cost of war - the opportunity cost. russia's israeli oil bond by: dr. sam vaknin also published by united press international (upi) also read russian roulette - the energy sector last week, russia and israel - erstwhile bitter cold war enemies - have agreed to make use of israel's neglected oil pipeline, known as the tipline. the conduit, an iranian-israeli joint venture completed in is designed to carry close to a million barrels per day, circumventing the suez canal. it rarely does, though. the shah was deposed in , egypt became a pivotal western ally, the israeli-developed sinai oil fields were returned to egypt in the early 's, and, in a glutted market, israel resorted to importing percent of the , barrels it consumes daily. according to stratfor, the strategic forecasting consultancy, "tankers bearing russian crude from the black sea port of novorossiysk would unload at israel's mediterranean port of ashkelon. after that, the oil would traverse the tipline to israel's red sea port of eilat, where it would be reloaded onto tankers for shipment to asia. the eilat-ashkelon pipeline co. estimates the pipeline will be ready for russian crude in mid- ." russia is emerging as a major oil supplier and a serious challenge to the hegemony of saudi arabia and opec. even the usa increasingly taps the russian market for crude and derivatives. with arab countries - including the hitherto unwaveringly loyal gulf states - progressively perceived as hostile by american scholars and decision makers, russia arises as a potent alternative. the newfangled russian-israeli commercial alliance probably won applause from washington hardliners, eager to relieve the saudi stranglehold on energy supplies. quoted by the american foreign policy council, russia's energy minister, igor yusufov, addressing the russian-us energy forum in houston, texas, last month said that "the high degree of economic and political stability that the russian federation has achieved makes it a reliable supplier of oil and gas." he expressed his belief - shared by many analysts - that russia will become a major exporter of oil to the usa "in the foreseeable future". according to the dow jones newswires, private russian oil firms, such as lukoil, are heavily invested in us gas stations and refineries in anticipation of these inevitable developments. as if to underline these, the financial times reported, on october , a purchase of , barrels of oil from the russian tyumen oil company. the deal with israel will allow russia to peddle its oil in the asian market, a major export target and a monopoly of the gulf producers. russia is in the throes of constructing several pipelines to asia through its eastern territories and pacific coastline - but completion dates are uncertain. for its part, according to the department of energy, israel extracts natural gas from offshore fields but has no commercial fossil fuel resources of its own. it imports oil from mexico, norway, and the united kingdom and coal from as far away as australia, colombia, and south africa. israel buys natural gas and oil from egypt. the bulk of the energy sector is moribund and state-owned, ostensibly for reasons of national security. the deal with russia is a godsend. israel is perfectly located to offer an affordable alternative to expensive and often clogged oil shipping lanes through the suez canal or the cape. a revival of the trans-arabian pipeline (tapline) to haifa can considerably under-price the politically wobbly iraqi-turkish and the costly suez-mediterranean (sumed) alternatives. with one of every five israelis a russian Â�migrÂ� and confronted with the common enemy of islamic militancy, israel and russia have embarked on a path of close cooperation. prime minister sharon's visit to russia last month was a resounding success. faced with these millennial geopolitical developments, anti-semitic conspiracy theorists are having a field day. the jewish lobby, they say, is coercing america, its long arm, to hijack the iraqi oil fields in the forthcoming war and thus to counterbalance surging russian oil exports. israel, they aver, planned to carry out, in october , an operation - "mivtza shekhina" - to secure southern iraq's oil fields while also mitigating the threat of weapons of mass destruction aimed at its population centers. conspiratorial paranoia notwithstanding, it is unlikely that the usa is motivated by oil interests in its war on saddam. a battle in iraq aimed solely at apprehending its crude would be fighting over yesterday's oilfields. only an easily replaceable one tenth to one eighth of american oil consumption emanates from the gulf, about a million barrels per day of it from iraq. moreover, the war is likely to alienate far more important suppliers, such as russia - as well as the largest european clients of gulf oil extracted by american firms. strictly in terms of oil, a war in iraq is counterproductive. additionally, such a war is likely to push oil prices up. according to the council on foreign relations, "for every dollar-per-barrel increase in oil prices, about $ billion a year would leave america's $ trillion economy, and other importing countries would lose another $ billion per year." israel understandably did discuss with the usa its role in a showdown with iraq. russia, unsettled as it is by america's growing presence in central asia and exercised by its determination to take on iraq - may be trying to lure israel away from its automatic support of us goals by dangling the oiled carrot of a joint pipeline. russia also hopes to neuter the rapprochement between israel and the islamic nations of turkey and azerbaijan, traditional adversaries of moscow. israel is the second largest buyer of oil from azerbaijan. it is one of the sponsors of a pipeline from the baku oilfields to the port of ceyhan in turkey. the pipeline stands to compete with a less costly and more hostile to the west russian-iranian route. these are momentous times. oil is still by far the most strategic commodity and securing its uninterrupted flow is essential to the functioning of both developed and developing countries. there is a discernible tectonic shift in production and proven reserves from the persian gulf, the us except alaska, the north sea, and latin america to northern europe, russia, and the caspian basin. yet, oil is still a buyers' market. opec has long been denuded of its mythical power and oil prices - even at the current interim peak - are still historically low in real terms. but russia stands to gain whichever way. middle east tensions, in palestine and iraq, have ratcheted oil prices up resulting in a much-needed budgetary windfall. russia's mostly-privatized oil industry has cleverly ploughed back its serendipitous profits into pipelines, drilling, and exploration. when the dust settles in the deserts of arabia, russia will emerge victorious with the largest oil market share. israel is not oblivious to this scenario. russia's idled spies by: dr. sam vaknin also published by united press international (upi) also read the industrious spies russian roulette - the security apparatus sweden expelled yesterday two russian diplomats for spying on radar and missile guidance technologies for the jas british-swedish gripen fighter jet developed by telefon ab lm ericsson, the telecommunications multinational. the russians threatened to reciprocate. five current and former employees of the corporate giant are being investigated. ironically, the first foreign buyer of the aircraft may well be poland, a former soviet satellite state and a current european union candidate. sweden arrested in february last year a worker of the swiss-swedish engineering group, abb, on suspicion of spying for russia. the man was released after two days for lack of evidence and reinstated. but the weighty swedish daily, dagens nyheter, speculated that the recent russian indiscretion was in deliberate retaliation for swedish espionage in russia. sweden is rumored to have been in the market for russian air radar designs and the jas radar system is said by some observers to uncannily resemble its eastern counterparts. the same day, a russian military intelligence (gru) colonel, aleksander sipachev, was sentenced in moscow to eight years in prison and stripped of his rank. according to russian news agencies, he was convicted of attempting to sell secret documents to the cia. russian secret service personnel, idled by the withering of russia's global presence, resort to private business or are re-deployed by the state to spy on industrial and economic secrets in order to aid budding russian multinationals. according to the fbi and the national white-collar crime center, russian former secret agents have teamed with computer hackers to break into corporate networks to steal vital information about product development and marketing strategies. microsoft has recently admitted to such a compromising intrusion. in a december interview to segodnya, a russia paper, eyer winkler, a former high-ranking staffer with the national security agency (nsa) confirmed that "corruption in the russian government, the foreign intelligence service, and the main intelligence department allows russian organized criminal groups to use these departments in their own interests. criminals receive the major part of information collected by the russian special services by means of breaking into american computer networks." when the kgb was dismantled and replaced by a host of new acronyms, russian industrial espionage was still in diapers. as a result, it is a bureaucratic no-man's land roamed by agents of the gru, the foreign intelligence service (svr), and smaller outfits, such as the federal agency on government communications and information (fapsi). according to stratfor, the strategic forecasting consultancy, "the svr and gru both handle manned intelligence on u.s. territory, with the russian federal security service (fsb) doing counterintelligence in america. also, both the svr and gru have internal counterintelligence units created for finding foreign intelligence moles." this, to some extent, is the division of labor in europe as well. germany's federal prosecutor has consistently warned against $ billion worth of secrets pilfered annually from german industrial firms by foreign intelligence services, especially from east europe and russia. the counterintelligence news and developments newsletter pegs the damage at $ billion in alone: "modus operandi included placing agents in international organizations, setting up joint-ventures with german companies, and setting up bogus companies. the (federal prosecutor's) report also warned business leaders to be particularly wary of former diplomats or people who used to work for foreign secret services because they often had the language skills and knowledge of germany that made them excellent agents." russian spy rings now operate from canada to japan. many of the spies have been dormant for decades and recalled to service following the implosion of the ussr. according to asian media, russians have become increasingly active in the far east, mainly in japan, south korea, taiwan, and mainland china. russia is worried about losing its edge in avionics, electronics, information technology and some emerging defense industries such as laser shields, positronics, unmanned vehicles, wearable computing, and real time triple c (communication, command and control) computerized battlefield management. the main targets are, surprisingly, israel and france. according to media reports, the substantive clients of russia's defense industry - such as india - insist on hollowing out russian craft and installing israeli and west european systems instead. russia's paranoid state of mind extends to its interior. uralinformbureau reported earlier this year that the yamal-nenets autonomous okrug (district) restricted access to foreigners citing concerns about industrial espionage and potential sabotage of oil and gas companies. the kremlin maintains an ever-expanding list of regions and territories with limited - or outright - forbidden - access to foreigners. the fsb, the kgb's main successor, is busy arresting spies all over the vast country. to select a random events of the dozens reported every year - and many are not - the russian daily kommersant recounted in february how when the trunov works at the novolipetsk metallurgical combine concluded an agreement with a chinese company to supply it with slabs, its chief negotiator was nabbed as a spy working for "circles in china". his crime? he was in possession of certain documents which contained "intellectual property" of the crumbling and antiquated mill pertaining to a slab quality enhancement process. foreigners are also being arrested, though rarely. an american businessman, edmund pope, was detained in april for attempting to purchase the blueprints of an advanced torpedo from a russian scientist. there have been a few other isolated apprehensions, mainly for "proper", military, espionage. but russians bear the brunt of the campaign against foreign economic intelligence gathering. strana.ru reported last december that, speaking on the occasion of security services day, putin - himself a kgb alumnus - warned veterans that the most crucial task facing the services today is "protecting the country's economy against industrial espionage." this is nothing new. according to history of espionage web site, long before they established diplomatic relations with the usa in , the soviets had amtorg trading company. ostensibly its purpose was to encourage joint ventures between russian and american firms. really it was a hub of industrial undercover activities. dozens of soviet intelligence officers supervised, at its peak during the depression, american communists. the soviet union's european operations in berlin (handelsvertretung) and in london (arcos, ltd.) were even more successful. russia's middle class by: dr. sam vaknin also published by united press international (upi) also read women in transition a conference held, at the beginning of the month, in st. petersburg, was aptly titled "middle class - the myths and the reality". russia is way poorer than slovenia, the czech republic, hungary, or even poland. but, as income disparities grow, a group of discriminating consumers with the purchasing power to match, is re-emerging, having been submerged by the implosion of the financial sector. the typical salary in the large metropolises is now more than $ per month - four times the meager national average. some percent of the workforce in moscow earns more than $ a month, comparable to many members of the european union. real average wages across russia have surpassed the pre- level in may. moreover, russians are unburdened by debt and their utility bills and food are heavily subsidized, though decreasingly so. few pay taxes - lately dramatically reduced and simplified - and even fewer save. every rise in disposable income is immediately translated to unadulterated consumption. takings are understated - russia's informal economy is probably half as big as its formal sector. a study, financed by the carnegie foundation, found that only percent of russians qualify as middle class. another percent or so have some bourgeois characteristics. sixty percent of them are men, though the komkon marketing research agency says that the genders are equally represented. figures culled from the census conducted this year throughout the russian federation - the first since - are expected to confirm these findings. about one fifth to one quarter of all russian households earn more than the average monthly income of $ per person. political parties which purport to represent the middle class - such as the union of the forces of the right (sps) - garnered - percent of the votes in the parliamentary elections. direct action groups of the "third estate" may transform the political landscape in forthcoming elections. in a recent study by sociologists from the russian academy of sciences' institute of philosophy, more than half of all russians self-flatteringly considered themselves middle class. this is delusional. even the optimistic research firm premier-tgi pegs the number at percent at most. businesses adapt to these new demands of shifting tastes and preferences. the st. petersburg-based cellular operator delta telecom, owner of the first license to provide wireless-communications services in russia, intends to test the market among middle class clients. ikea, the swedish home improvement chain, has plunged $ million into a new shopping center. french, german and dutch cash-and-carry and do-it-yourself groups are slated to follow. russian competitors, every bit as sleek, have erupted on the scene. the investment spree has engulfed the provinces as well. last month, citibank opened a retail outlet for affluent individuals in moscow - though its standards of transparency may yet scare them off, as gazeta.ru observed astutely. a private cemetery in samara caters to the needs of the expired newly rich. opulently-stocked emporiums have sprouted in all urban centers. tv shopping and even online commerce are on the up. according to the washington post, moscow retail space will have tripled by the end of next year from its level at the beginning of . the russian expert magazine says that the middle class, minuscule as it is, accounted last year for a staggering percent of all consumer goods purchased and generates one third of russia's gross domestic product. the middle class is russia's most important engine of wealth formation and investment, far outweighing foreign capital. russia's post- fledgling middle class is described as young, well-educated, well-traveled, community-orientated, entrepreneurial and suffused with work ethic and a desire for social mobility. it is almost as if the crisis four years ago served as a purgatory, purging sins and sinners alike and creating the conditions for the revival of a healthier, longer-lived, bourgeoisie. but being middle class is a state of mind more than a measure of wealth. it is an all-encompassing worldview, a set of values, a code of conduct, a list of goals, aspirations, fantasies and preferences and a catalog of moral do's and don'ts. this is where transition, micromanaged by western "experts" failed. the mere exposure to free markets was supposed to unleash innovation and entrepreneurship in the long-oppressed populations of east europe. when this prescription - known as "shock therapy" - bombed, the west tried to engender a stable, share-holding, business-owning, middle class by financing small size enterprises. it then proceeded to strengthen and transform indigenous institutions. none of it worked. transition had no grassroots support and its prescriptive - and painful - nature caused wide resentment and obstruction. when the dust settled, russia found itself with a putative - and puny - middle class. but it was an anomalous beast, very different from its ostensible european or american counterparts. to start with, russia's new middle class is a distinct minority. prism, a publication of the jamestown foundation, quoted, in its august issue, the serbian author milorad pavic as saying that "the russian middle class is like a young generation whose fathers suffered a severe defeat in a war: with no feeling of guilt and no victorious fathers to boss them around, the children of defeat see no obstacles before them." but this metaphor is misleading. the russian middle class is a nascent exception - not an overarching rule. as akos rona-tas, associate professor in the sociology department at the university of california, san diego, notes correctly in his paper "post communist transition and the absent middle class in central east europe", a middle class that is in the minority is an oxymoron: "in democracies the middle class is the nation proper. the typical member of a national community is a member of the middle class. when democratic governments need a social group they can address, a universal class that carries the overarching, common interest of the country, they appeal to the middle class. this appeal, while it calls on a common interest, also acknowledges that there are conflicting interests within society. the middle class is not everyone, but it is the majority and it represents what everyone else can become." russia has a long way to go to achieve this ubiquity. its middle class, far from representing the consensus, reifies the growing abyss between haves and haves not. its members' conspicuous consumption, mostly of imports, does little to support the local economy. its political might is self-serving. it has no ethos, or distinct morality, no narrative, or ideology. the russian middle class is at a hobbesian and primordial stage. whether it emerges from its narcissistic cocoon to become a leading and guiding social force, is doubtful. the middle class' youth, urbaneness, cosmopolitanism, polyglotism, mobility, avarice and drive are viewed with suspicion and envy by the great unwashed - the overwhelming majority of russia's destitute population. empowered by their wealth, the new bourgeoisie, in turn, regards the "people" with naive admiration, patronizing condescension, or horror. granted, this muted, subterranean, interaction is not entirely deleterious. it is the social role of the rich to generate demand by provoking in the poor jealousy and attempts at emulation. the wealthy are the trendsetters, the early adopters, the pioneers, the buzz leaders. they are the engine that engenders social and economic mobility. a similar dynamic is admittedly evident in russia - but, again, it is tampered by a curious local phenomenon. writing for the globalist, two brookings institution scholars, carol graham, a senior fellow of economic studies and clifford gaddy, a fellow of foreign policy and governance studies described it thus: "the eyes of russia's middle class, on the other hand, are figuratively directed downward, towards the poor. in fact, as poverty in russia increased dramatically in the s, the middle class's reference norms shifted downward as well. as a result, russia may be the only country in the world where the "subjective poverty line" is falling. that is, the amount of money that russians say that they need in order to stay out of poverty has been steadily falling over the past five years. it is even below the objective poverty line. for the time being, at least, these curious russian attitudes, along with the existence of the non-monetary virtual economy, have insulated the country against political upheaval." the list of anomalies is not exhausted. the new middle class comprises the embryonic legitimate business elite - entrepreneurs, professionals and managers - but not the remnants of the financially strapped intelligentsia. it is brawn with little brains. in dissonance with western europe, according to a survey published in the last two years by expert magazine, the majority of its members are nationalistic, authoritarian and xenophobic. their self-interested economic liberalism is coupled with social and political intolerance. but two thirds of them support some kind of welfare state. thus, there are major differences between the middle class in the west and its ostensible counterpart in russia. the russian parvenus - many of them women - do not believe their state, their banks, or their compatriots. they fear a precarious future and its inevitable calamities though they are not risk averse and are rather optimistic in the short run. they keep their money under the proverbial mattress, invest it surreptitiously in their ventures, or smuggle it abroad. they are not - yet - stakeholders in their country's stability and prosperity. often bamboozled by other businessmen and fleeced by a rapacious bureaucracy, they are paranoid. tax evasion is still rampant, though abating. they trust in equity and avoid debt. some of them have criminal roots or a criminal mindset - or are former members of russia's shady security services. three fifths, according to the expert-komkon survey, find it "hard to survive" when "observing all laws". "strong leaders are better than all sorts of laws" is their motto, quoted by izvestia. generally, they are closer to being robbers than barons. early capitalism is always unruly. it is transformed into a highly structured edifice by the ownership of land and realty (the prime collateral), the protection of private property, a functioning financial system comprised of both banks and capital markets and the just and expedient application of the rule of law. russia has none of these. according to business week, bank deposits amount to percent of the country's mid-size gdp - compared to half of gdp in other industrialized countries. mortgages are unheard of, deposits are not insured and land ownership is a novel proposition. the judiciary is venal and incompetent. might is still right in vast swathes of the land. the state and the oligarchs continue to represent a rent-seeking opportunity. businessmen spend time seeking concessions, permits, exemptions and licenses rather than conducting business. the "civic institutions" they form - chambers of commerce, clubs - are often mere glorified lobbying outfits of special and vested interests. informal networks of contacts count more than any statute or regulation. in such a mock "modern state" no wonder russia ended up with a potemkin "middle class". russia in by: dr. sam vaknin also published by united press international (upi) contrary to recent impressions, russia's western (american-german) orientation is at least as old as gorbachev's reign. it was vigorously pursued by yeltsin. still, marks the year in which russia became merely another satellite of the united states - though one armed with an ageing nuclear arsenal. russia's economy has revived remarkably after the crisis, but it is still addicted to western investments, aid and credits. encircled by nato to its west and us troops stationed in its central asian hinterland, russia's capitulation is complete. in the aftermath of conflicts to be engineered by the united states in afghanistan, iraq, north korea, iran, syria and, potentially, cuba - russia may feel threatened geopolitically as well as economically. both iran and iraq, for instance, are large trading partners and leading export destinations of the russian federation. if anything can undo the hitherto impressive personality cult of russia's new "strong man", vladimir putin, it is this injured pride among the more penumbral ranks of the country's security services. russia's history is littered with the bloodied remains of upheavals wrought by violent ideological minorities and by assorted conspirators. hence putin's tentative - and reluctant - attempts to team up with china and india to establish a multi-polar world and his closer military cooperation with kyrgyzstan and armenia - both intended to counter nationalistic opposition at home. luckily, the sense of decline is by no means prevalent. russians polled by the american pew research center admitted that they feel much better in a world dominated by the united states as a single superpower. the kgb and its successors - putin's former long-term employers - actually engineered russia's opening to the west and the president's meteoric ascendancy. and no one in the army seriously disputes the need for reform, professionalization and merciless trimming of the bloated corps. reforms - of the military, russia's decrepit utilities, dilapidated infrastructure and housing, inflated and venal bureaucracy, corrupt judiciary and civil service, choking monopolies and pernicious banking sector - depend on the price of oil. russia benefited mightily from the surge in the value of the "black gold". but the windfall has helped mask pressing problems and allowed timid legislators and officials to postpone much needed - and fiercely resisted - changes. russia's "economic miracle" - oft-touted by the "experts" that brought you "shock therapy" and by egregiously self-interested, moscow-based, investment bankers - is mostly prestidigitation. as the european bank for reconstruction and development (ebrd) correctly noted in november, russia's percent growth in the last three years merely reflects enhanced usage of capacity idled by the ruination of . neutering the positive externality of rising oil prices, one is left with no increase in productivity since . industrial production - outside the oil sector - actually slumped. as metropolitan incomes rise, russians revert to imports rather than consume shoddy and shabby local products. this, in turn, adversely affects the current account balance and the viability of local enterprises, some of which are sincerely attempting to restructure. according to trud, a russian business publication, two fifths of the country's businesses are in the red. russia's number of small and medium enterprises peaked at million in - . they employ less than one fifth of the workforce (compared to two thirds in the european union and in many other countries in transition). thus, falling oil prices - though detrimental to russia's ability to repay its external debt and balance its budget - are a blessing in disguise. such declines will force the hand of the putin administration to engage in some serious structural reform - even in the face of parliamentary elections in and presidential ones the year after. russians - wrongly - feel that their standard of living has stagnated. gazeta.ru claims that million people are below the poverty line. many pensioners survive on $ a day. in truth, real income per capita is actually up by more than percent this year alone. income inequality, though, has, indeed, gaped. responding to these concerns, though, in a "coattails" effect, the president is expected to carry pro-kremlin parties back into power in - a modicum of elections-inspired bribing is inevitable. state wages and pensions will outpace inflation. the energy behemoths - major sources of campaign financing - will be rewarded with rises in tariffs to match cost of living increases. russia faces more than merely a skewed wealth distribution or dependence on mineral wealth. its difficulties are myriad. on cue from washington, it is again being hyped in the western press as a sure-fire investment destination and a pair of safe geostrategic hands. but the dismal truth is that it is a third world country with first world pretensions (and nuclear weapons). it exhibits all the risks attendant to other medium-sized developing countries and emerging economies. external debt repayments next year will exceed $ billion. it can easily afford them with oil prices anywhere above $ and foreign exchange reserves the highest since . russia even prepaid some of its debt mountain this year. but if its export proceeds were to decline by percent in the forthcoming - years, russia will, yet again, be forced to reschedule or default. every $ dollar decline in ural crude prices translates to more than $ billion lost income to the government. russia's population is both contracting and ageing. a ruinous pension crisis is in the cards unless both the run-down health system and the abysmally low birthrate recover. immigration of ethnic russians from the former republics of the ussr to the russian federation has largely run its course. according to pravda.ru, more than million people emigrated from the federation in the last decade. russia's informal sector is a vital, though crime-tainted, engine of growth. laundered money coupled with reinvested profits - from both legitimate and illicit businesses - drive a lot of the private sector and underlie the emergence of an affluent elite, especially in moscow and other urban centers. according to the economist intelligence unit, goskomstat - the state statistics committee - regularly adjusts the formal figures up by percent to incorporate estimates of the black economy. russia faces a dilemma: to quash the economic underground and thus enhance both tax receipts and russia's image as an orderly polity - or to let the pent-up entrepreneurial forces of the "gray sectors" work their magic? russia is slated to join the world trade organization in . this happy occasion would mean deregulation, liberalization and opening up to competition - all agonizing moves. russian industry and agriculture are not up to the task. it took a massive devaluation and a debilitating financial crisis in to resurrect consumer appetite for indigenous goods. farming is mostly state-owned, or state-sponsored. monopolies, duopolies and cartels make up the bulk of the manufacturing and mining sectors - especially in the wake of the recent tsunami of mergers and acquisitions. the economist intelligence unit quotes estimates that conglomerates account for up to percent of the country's $ billion gdp. the oligarchs are still there, lurking. the banks are still paralyzed and compromised, though their retail sector is reviving. russians are still ambivalent about foreigners. paranoid xenophobia was replaced by guarded wariness. recently, russia revoked the fast track work permit applications hitherto put to good use by managers, scholars and experts from the west. foreign minority shareholders still complain of being ripped-off by powerful, well-connected - and minacious - business interests. with the bloody exception of chechnya, putin's compelling personality has helped subdue the classic tensions between center and regions. but, as putin himself admitted in a radio q-and-a session on december , this peaceful co-existence is fraying at the edges. the president will try to reach a top-down political settlement in the renegade province prior to the elections, but will fail. reform is anathema to many suborned governors of the periphery and the kremlin's miserly handouts are insufficient to grant it a decisive voice in matters provincial. devolution - a pet putin project - is more about accepting an unsavory reality than about re-defining the russian state. the economic disparity between rural and urban is striking. the economist intelligence unit describes this chasm thus: "the processing industry is concentrated in the cities of moscow, st petersburg, yekaterinburg and nizhny novgorod. these larger cities have managed the transition relatively well, as size has tended to bring with it industrial diversity; smaller industrial centers have fared far worse. the soviet regime created new industrial centers such as tomsk and novosibirsk, but siberia and the russian far eastern regions remain largely unindustrialised, having traditionally served as a raw materials and energy base. owing to the boundless faith of soviet planners in the benefits of scale, one massive enterprise, or a small group of related enterprises, often formed the basis for the entire local economy of a substantial city or region. this factor, compounded by the absence of unemployment benefits, makes the closure of bankrupt enterprises a politically difficult decision." the politically incorrect truth is that russia's old power-structure is largely intact, having altered only its ideological label. it is as avaricious, nefarious and obstructive as ever. nor does the russian state sport any checks and balances. its institutions are suspect, its executive untouchable, its law enforcement agencies delinquent. russians still hanker after "men of iron" and seek tradition rather than innovation, prefer unity to pluralism, and appreciate authority more than individualism. russia - a ramshackle amalgamation of competing turfs - is still ill-suited for capitalism or for liberal democracy, though far less than it was only ten years ago. conspicuous consumption of imported products by vulgar parvenus is no substitute to true modernity and a functioning economy. russia is frequently praised by expats with vested interests and by international financial institutions, the long arms of its newfound ally, the united states. but, in truth, "modern", "stable", russia is merely a glittering veneer beneath which lurk, festering, the old ills of authoritarianism, lawlessness, oligarchy, aggression, ignorance, superstition, and repression mingled with extremes of poverty and disease. here is one safe prediction: none of these will diminish next year. russia straddles the euro-atlantic divide by: dr. sam vaknin also published by united press international (upi) also read the janus look russia's second empire russian roulette - the security apparatus russia as a creditor let my people go - the jackson-vanik controversy the chechen theatre ticket russia's israeli oil bond russia's idled spies russia in russian president vladimir putin warned on tuesday, in an interview he granted to tf , a french television channel, that unilateral american-british military action against iraq would be a "grave mistake" and an "unreasonable use of force". russia might veto it in the security council, he averred. in a joint declaration with france and germany, issued the same day, he called to enhance the number of arms inspectors in iraq as an alternative to war. only weeks ago russia was written off, not least by myself, as a satellite of the united states. this newfound assertiveness has confounded analysts and experts everywhere. yet, appearances aside, it does not signal a fundamental shift in russian policy or worldview. russia could not resist the temptation of playing once more the leninist game of "inter-imperialist contradictions". it has long masterfully exploited chinks in nato's armor to further its own economic, if not geopolitical, goals. its convenient geographic sprawl - part europe, part asia - allows it to pose as both a continental power and a global one with interests akin to those of the united states. hence the verve with which it delved into the war against terrorism, recasting internal oppression and meddling abroad as its elements. as vladimir lukin, deputy speaker of the duma observed recently, britain having swerved too far towards america - russia may yet become an intermediary between a bitterly disenchanted usa and an irked europe and between the rich, industrialized west and developing countries in asia. publicly, the usa has only mildly disagreed with russia's reluctance to countenance a military endgame in iraq - while showering france and germany with vitriol for saying, essentially, the same things. the united states knows that russia will not jeopardize the relevance of the security council - one of the few remaining hallmarks of past soviet grandeur - by vetoing an american-sponsored resolution. but russia cannot be seen to be abandoning a traditional ally and a major customer (iraq) and newfound friends (france and germany) too expediently. nor can putin risk further antagonizing moscow hardliners who already regard his perceived "gorbachev-like" obsequiousness and far reaching concessions to the usa as treasonous. the scrapping of the anti ballistic missile treaty, the expansion of nato to russia's borders, america's presence in central asia and the caucasus, russia's "near abroad" - are traumatic reversals of fortune. an agreed consultative procedure with the crumbling nato hardly qualifies as ample compensation. there are troubling rumblings of discontent in the army. a few weeks ago, a russian general in chechnya refused putin's orders publicly - and with impunity. additionally, according to numerous opinion polls, the vast majority of russians oppose an iraqi campaign. by aligning itself with the fickle france and the brooding and somnolent germany, russia is warning the usa that it should not be taken for granted and that there is a price to pay for its allegiance and good services. but putin is not boris yeltsin, his inebriated predecessor who over-played his hand in opposing nato's operation in kosovo in - only to be sidelined, ignored and humiliated in the postwar arrangements. russia wants a free hand in chechnya and to be heard on international issues. it aspires to secure its oil contracts in iraq - worth tens of billions of dollars - and the repayment of $ billion in old debts by the postbellum government. it seeks pledges that the oil market will not be flooded by a penurious iraq. it desires a free hand in ukraine, armenia and uzbekistan, among others. russia wants to continue to sell $ billion a year in arms to china, india, iran, syria and other pariahs unhindered. only the united states, the sole superpower, can guarantee that these demands are met. moreover, with a major oil producer such as iraq as a us protectorate, russia becomes a hostage to american goodwill. yet, hitherto, all russia received were expression of sympathy, claimed valeri fyodorov, director of political friends, an independent russian think-tank, in an interview in the canadian daily, national post. these are not trivial concerns. russia's is a primitive economy, based on commodities - especially energy products - and an over-developed weapons industry. its fortunes fluctuate with the price of oil, of agricultural produce and with the need for arms, driven by regional conflicts. should the price of oil collapse, russia may again be forced to resort to multilateral financing, a virtual monopoly of the long arms of us foreign policy, such as the international monetary fund (imf). the usa also has a decisive voice in the world trade organization (wto), membership thereof being a russian strategic goal. it was the united states which sponsored russia's seat at table of the g - the group of eight industrialized states - a much coveted reassertion of the russian federation's global weight. according to rossiiskaya gazeta, a russian paper, the usa already announced a week ago that it is considering cutting russia off american financial aid - probably to remind the former empire who is holding the purse strings. but siding with america risks alienating the all-important core of europe: germany and france. europe - especially germany - is russia's largest export destination and foreign investor. russia is not oblivious to that. it would like to be compensated generously by the united states for assuming such a hazard. still, europe is a captive of geography and history. it has few feasible alternatives to russian gas, for instance. as the recent $ billion investment by british petroleum proves, russia - and, by extension, central and east europe - is europe's growth zone and natural economic hinterland. yet, it is america that captures the imagination of russian oligarchs and lesser businesses. russia aims to become the world's largest oil producer within the decade. with this in mind, it is retooling its infrastructure and investing in new pipelines and ports. the united states is aggressively courted by russian officials and "oiligarchs" - the energy tycoons. with the gulf states cast in the role of anti-american islamic militants, russia emerges as a sane and safe - i.e., rationally driven by self-interest - alternative supplier and a useful counterweight to an increasingly assertive and federated europe. russia's affinity with the united states runs deeper that the confluence of commercial interests. russian capitalism is far more "anglo-saxon" than old europe's. the federation has an educated but cheap and abundant labor force, a patchy welfare state, exportable natural endowments, a low tax burden and a pressing need for unhindered inflows of foreign investment. russia's only hope of steady economic growth is the expansion of its energy behemoths abroad. last year it has become a net foreign direct investor. it has a vested interest in globalization and world order which coincide with america's. china, for instance, is as much russia's potential adversary as it is the united state's. russia welcomed the demise of the taliban and is content with regime changes in iraq and north korea - all american exploits. it can - and does - contribute to america's global priorities. collaboration between the two countries' intelligence services has never been closer. hence also the thaw in russia's relations with its erstwhile foe, israel. russia's population is hungry and abrasively materialistic. its robber barons are more american in spirit than any british or french entrepreneur. russia's business ethos is reminiscent of th century frontier america, not of th century staid germany. russia is driven by kaleidoscopically shifting coalitions within a narrow elite, not by its masses - and the elite wants money, a lot of it and now. in russia's unbreakable cycle, money yields power which leads to more money. the country is a functioning democracy but elections there do not revolve around the economy. most taxes are evaded by most taxpayers and half the gross national product is anyhow underground. ordinary people crave law and order - or, at least a semblance thereof. hence putin's rock idol popularity. he caters to the needs of the elite by cozying up to the west and, in particular, to america - even as he provides the lower classes with a sense of direction and security they lacked since . but putin is a serendipitous president. he enjoys the aftereffects of a sharply devalued, export-enhancing, imports-depressing ruble and the vertiginous tripling of oil prices, russia's main foreign exchange generator. the last years of yeltsin have been so traumatic that the bickering cogs and wheels of russia's establishment united behind the only vote-getter they could lay their hands on: putin, an obscure politician and former kgb officer. to a large extent, he proved to be an agreeable puppet, concerned mostly with self-preservation and the imaginary projection of illusory power. putin's great asset is his pragmatism and realistic assessment of the shambles that russia has become and of his own limitations. he has turned himself into a kind of benevolent and enlightened arbiter among feuding interests - and as the merciless and diligent executioner of the decisions of the inner cabals of power. hitherto he kept everyone satisfied. but iraq is his first real test. everyone demands commitments backed by actions. both the europeans and the americans want him to put his vote at the security council where his mouth is. the armed services want him to oppose war in iraq. the intelligence services are divided. the moslem population inside russia - and surrounding it on all sides - is restive and virulently anti-american. the oil industry is terrified of america' domination of the world's second largest proven reserves - but also craves to do business in the united states. intellectuals and russian diplomats worry about america's apparent disregard for the world order spawned by the horrors of world war ii. the average russian regards the iraqi stalemate as an internal american affair. "it is not our war", is a common refrain, growing commoner. putin has played it admirably nimbly. whether he ultimately succeeds in this impossible act of balancing remains to be seen. the smart money says he would. but if the last three years have taught us anything it is that the smart money is often disastrously wrong. russia's stealth diplomacy by: dr. sam vaknin also published by united press international (upi) also read the janus look russia's second empire russia as a creditor the chechen theatre ticket russia's israeli oil bond russia's idled spies russia in russia straddles the euro-atlantic divide russian roulette - the security apparatus let my people go - the jackson-vanik controversy possibly irked by persistent american u- aerial spy missions above its fringes, russia fired yesterday, from a mobile launcher, a "topol" rs- m intercontinental ballistic missile (icbm). on wednesday, agriculture minister alexei gordeyev, offered iraq aid in the form of wheat. the russian grain union, the industry lobby group, claims to have already provided the besieged country with half a million tons of grain under the oil-for-food program. russia linked with syria in declining to approve the new oil-for-food draft resolution as long as it implied a regime change in iraq. the duma - having failed to ratify a key nuclear treaty with the usa - called to increase defense spending by at least . percent of gross domestic product, or about $ billion this year. only percent of russians polled now view the united states favorably, compared with percent a mere few months ago. a majority of percent disapprove of the usa in a country that was, until very recently, by far the most pro-american in europe. a russian telecom, excom, is offering unlimited free phone calls to the white house to protest u.s. "aggression". washington, on its part, has accused the russian firm, aviaconversiya, of helping iraqi forces to jam global positioning system (gps) signals. other firms - including anti-tank kornet missile manufacturer, kbp tula - have also been fingered for supplying iraq with sensitive military technologies. these allegations were vehemently denied by president vladimir putin in a phone call to bush - and ridiculed by the companies ostensibly involved. russia exported c. $ billion of military hardware and another $ . billion in nuclear equipment and expertise last year, mostly to india and china - triple the figure. russia and the united states have continually exchanged barbs over the sale of fission technology to iran. in retaliation, atomic energy minister, alexander rumyantsev, exposed an anglo-german-dutch deal with the iranians, which, he said, included the sale of uranium enrichment centrifuges. is putin reviving the cold war to regain his nationalist credentials, tarnished by the positioning, unopposed, of american troops in central asia, the unilateral american withdrawal from the anti-ballistic missile (abm) treaty and the expansion of nato and the european union to russia's borders? or, dependent as it is on energy exports, is russia opposed to the war because it fears an american monopoly on the second largest known reserves of crude? russia announced on thursday that it would insist on honoring all prewar contracts signed between iraq and russian oil companies and worth of billions of dollars - and on the repayment of $ - billion in iraqi overdue debt to russia. according to rosbalt, every drop of $ in oil prices translates into annual losses to the russian treasury of $ billion. aggregate corporate profits rose in january by one fifth year on year, mostly on the strength of surging crude quotes. the economist intelligence unit expects this year's gdp to grow by . percent. foreign exchange reserves are stable at $ billion. the threat to russia's prominence and market share is not imminent. iraqi oil is unlikely to hit world markets in the next few years, as iraq's dilapidated and outdated infrastructure is rebuilt. moreover, russian oil is cheap compared to the north sea or alaskan varieties and thus constitutes an attractive investment opportunity as the recent takeover of tyumen oil by british petroleum proves. still, the long-term risk of being unseated by a reconstructed iraq as the second largest oil producer in the world is tangible. russia has spent the last six months enhancing old alliances and constructing new bridges. according to interfax, the russian news agency, yesterday, russia has made yet another payment of $ million to the international monetary fund. the russian and romanian prime ministers met and signed bilateral agreements for the first time since . this week, after years of abortive contacts, the republics of the former yugoslavia agreed with the russian federation on a framework for settling its $ million in clearing debts. recent spats notwithstanding, the anglo-saxon alliance still regards russia as a strategically crucial ally. last week, british police, in a sudden display of unaccustomed efficacy, nabbed russian oligarch and mortal putin-foe, boris berezovsky, charged by the kremlin with defrauding the samara region of $ million while he was director of logovaz in - . the russian foreign minister, igor ivanov, did not remain oblivious to these overtures. russia and the usa remain partners, he asserted. ria novosti, the russian news agency, quoted him as saying: "if we settle the iraqi problem by political means and in an accord, the road will open to teamwork on other, no less involved problems." as robert kagan correctly observes in his essay "of paradise and power: america and europe in the new world order", the weaker a polity is militarily, the stricter its adherence to international law, the only protection, however feeble, from bullying. putin, presiding over a decrepit and bloated army, naturally insists that the world must be governed by international regulation and not by the "rule of the fist". but kagan - and putin - get it backwards as far as the european union is concerned. its members are not compelled to uphold international prescripts by their indisputable and overwhelming martial deficiency. rather, after centuries of futile bloodletting, they choose not to resort to weapons and, instead, to settle their differences juridically. thus, putin is not a european in the full sense of the word. he supports an international framework of dispute settlement because he has no armed choice, not because it tallies with his deeply held convictions and values. according to kagan, putin is, in essence, an american: he believes that the world order ultimately rests on military power and the ability to project it. russia aspires to be america, not france. its business ethos, grasp of realpolitik, nuclear arsenal and evolving values place it firmly in the anglo-saxon camp. its dalliance with france and germany is hardly an elopement. had russia been courted more aggressively by secretary of state, colin powell and its concerns shown more respect by the american administration, it would have tilted differently. it is a lesson to be memorized in washington. russia's second empire by: dr. sam vaknin also published by united press international (upi) history teaches us little except how little we can learn from it. still, there is nothing new under the sun. thus, drawing too many parallels between the environmentalist movements of the late th century and their counterparts in the second half of the twentieth century - would probably prove misleading. similarly, every fin de siecle has its fukuyama, proclaiming the end of history and the victory of liberalism and capitalism. liberal parliamentarianism (coupled with unbridled individualistic capitalism) seemed to irreversibly dominate the political landscape by - when it was suddenly and surprisingly toppled by the confluence of revolutionary authoritarian nationalism and revolutionary authoritarian socialism. yet, every ostensibly modern (or post-modern) phenomenon has roots and mirrors in history. the spreading of the occult, materialism, rationalism, positivism, ethnic cleansing, regionalism, municipal autonomy, environmentalism, alienation ("ennui"), information networking, globalization, anti-globalization, mass migration, capital and labour mobility, free trade - are all new mantras but very old phenomena. sometimes the parallels are both overwhelming and instructive. overview karl marx regarded louis-napoleon's second empire as the first modern dictatorship - supported by the middle and upper classes but independent of their patronage and, thus, self-perpetuating. others went as far as calling it proto-fascistic. yet, the second empire was insufficiently authoritarian or revolutionary to warrant this title. it did foster and encourage a personality cult, akin to the "fuhrerprinzip" -but it derived its legitimacy, conservatively, from the church and from the electorate. it was an odd mixture of bonapartism, militarism, clericalism, conservatism and liberalism. in a way, the second republic did amount to a secular religion, replete with martyrs and apostles. it made use of the nascent mass media to manipulate public opinion. it pursued industrialization and administrative modernization. but these features characterized all the political movements of the late th century, including socialism, and other empires, such as the habsburg austro-hungary. the second empire was, above all, inertial. it sought to preserve the bureaucratic, regulatory, and economic frameworks of the first empire. it was a rationalist, positivist, and materialist movement - despite the deliberate irrationalism of the young louis-napoleon. it was not affiliated to a revolutionary party, nor to popular militias. it was not collectivist. and its demise was the outcome of military defeat. the second empire is very reminiscent of vladimir putin's reign in post-yeltsin russia. like the french second empire, it follows a period of revolutions and counter-revolutions. it is not identified with any one class but does rely on the support of the middle class, the intelligentsia, the managers and industrialists, the security services, and the military. putin is authoritarian, but not revolutionary. his regime derives its legitimacy from parliamentary and presidential elections based on a neo-liberal model of government. it is socially conservative but seeks to modernize russia's administration and economy. yet, it manipulates the mass media and encourages a personality cult. disparate youths like napoleon iii, putin started off as president (he was shortly as prime minister under yeltsin). like him, he may be undone by a military defeat, probably in the caucasus or central asia. the formative years of putin and louis-napoleon have little in common, though. the former was a cosseted member of the establishment and witnessed, first hand, the disintegration of his country. putin was a kgb apparatchik. the kgb may have inspired, conspired in, or even instigated the transformation in russian domestic affairs since the early 's - but to call it "revolutionary" would be to stretch the term. louis-napoleon, on the other hand, was a true revolutionary. he narrowly escaped death at the hands of austrian troops in a rebellion in italy in . his brother was not as lucky. louis-napoleon's claim to the throne of france ( ) was based on a half-baked ideology of imperial glory, concocted, disseminated and promoted by him. in and he even initiated (failed) coups d'etat. he was expelled even from neutral switzerland and exiled to the usa. he spent six years in prison. an eerie verisimilitude still, like putin, napoleon iii was elected president. like him, he was regarded by his political sponsors as merely a useful and disposable instrument. like putin, he had no parliamentary or political experience. both of them won elections by promising "order" and "prosperity" coupled with "social compassion". and, like putin, louis-napoleon, to the great chagrin of his backers, proved to be his own man - independent-minded, determined, and tough. putin, like louis-napoleon before him, proceeded to expand his powers and installed loyalists in every corner of the administration and the army. like louis-napoleon, putin is a populist, traveling throughout the country, posing for photo opportunities, responding to citizens' queries in q-and-a radio shows, siding with the "average bloke" on every occasion, taking advantage of russia's previous economic and social disintegration to project an image of a "strong man". putin is as little dependent on the duma as napoleon iii was on his parliament. but putin reaped what boris yeltsin, his predecessor, has sown when he established an imperial presidency after what amounted to a coup d'etat in (the bombing of the duma). napoleon had to organize his own coup d'etat all by himself in . the balancing act napoleon iii - as does putin now - faced a delicate balancing act between the legitimacy conferred by parliamentary liberalism and the need to maintain a police state. when he sought to strengthen the enfeebled legislature he reaped only growing opposition within it to his domestic and foreign policies alike. he liberalized the media and enshrined in france's legal code various civil freedoms. but he also set in motion and sanctioned a penumbral, all-pervasive and clandestine security apparatus which regularly gathered information on millions of frenchmen and foreigners. modernization and reform putin is considerably less of an economic modernizer than was napoleon iii. putin also seems to be less interested in the social implications of his policies, in poverty alleviation and in growing economic inequalities and social tensions. napoleon iii was a man for all seasons - a buffer against socialism as well as a utopian social and administrative reformer. business flourished under napoleon iii - as it does under putin. the 's witnessed rapid technological change - even more rapid than today's. france became a popular destination for foreign investors. napoleon iii was the natural ally of domestic businessmen until he embarked on an unprecedented trade liberalization campaign in . similarly, putin is nudging russia towards wto membership and enhanced foreign competition - alienating in the process the tycoon-oligarchs, the industrial complex, and the energy behemoths. foreign policy napoleon iii was a free trader - as is putin. he believed in the beneficial economic effects of free markets and in the free exchange of goods, capital, and labour. so does putin. but economic liberalism does not always translate to a pacific foreign policy. napoleon iii sought to annul the decisions of the congress of vienna ( ) and reverse the trend of post-napoleonic french humiliation. he wanted to resurrect "great france" pretty much as putin wants to restore russia to its "rightful" place as a superpower. but both pragmatic leaders realized that this rehabilitation cannot be achieved by force of arms and with a dilapidated economy. napoleon iii tried to co-opt the tidal wave of modern, revolutionary, nationalism to achieve the revitalization of france and the concomitant restoration of its glory. putin strives to exploit the west's aversion to conflict and addiction to wealth. napoleon iii struggled to establish a new, inclusive european order - as does putin with nato and, to a lesser degree, with the european union today. putin artfully manipulated europe in the wake of the september terrorist attacks on the usa, his new found ally. he may yet find himself in the enviable position of europe's arbitrator, nato's most weighty member, a bridge between central asia, the caucasus, north korea and china - and the usa. the longer his tenure, the more likely he is to become europe's elder statesman. this is a maneuver reminiscent of louis-napoleon's following the crimean war, when he teamed up with great britain against russia. like putin, napoleon iii modernized and professionalized his army. but, unlike putin hitherto, he actually went to war (against austria), moved by his (oft-thwarted) colonial and mercantilist aspirations. putin is likely to follow the same path (probably in central asia, but, possibly, in the baltic and east europe as well). reinvigorated armies (and industrialists) often force expansionary wars upon their reluctant ostensible political masters. should putin fail in his military adventures as napoleon iii did in his and be deposed as he was - these eerie similarities will have come to their natural conclusion. t h e a u t h o r shmuel (sam) vaknin curriculum vitae born in in qiryat-yam, israel. served in the israeli defence force ( - ) in training and education units. education graduated a few semesters in the technion - israel institute of technology, haifa. ph.d. in philosophy (major : philosophy of physics) - pacific western university, california. my doctoral thesis is available through the library of congress. graduate of numerous courses in finance theory and international trading. certified e-commerce concepts analyst. certified in psychological counselling techniques. full proficiency in hebrew and in english. business experience to founder and co-owner of a chain of computerized information kiosks in tel-aviv, israel. to senior positions with the nessim d. gaon group of companies in geneva, paris and new-york (noga and aprofim sa): - chief analyst of edible commodities in the group's headquarters in switzerland. - manager of the research and analysis division - manager of the data processing division - project manager of the nigerian computerized census - vice president in charge of rnd and advanced technologies - vice president in charge of sovereign debt financing to represented canadian venture capital funds in israel. to general manager of ipe ltd. in london. the firm financed international multi-lateral countertrade and leasing transactions. to co-founder and director of "mikbats - tesuah", a portfolio management firm based in tel-aviv. activities included large-scale portfolio management, underwriting, forex trading and general financial advisory services. to present free-lance consultant to many of israel's blue-chip firms, mainly on issues related to the capital markets in israel, canada, the uk and the usa. consultant to foreign rnd ventures and to governments on macro-economic matters. president of the israel chapter of the professors world peace academy (pwpa) and (briefly) israel representative of the "washington times". to co-owner and director of many business enterprises: - the omega and energy air-conditioning concern - avp financial consultants - handiman legal services total annual turnover of the group: million usd. co-owner, director and finance manager of costi ltd. - israel's largest computerized information vendor and developer. raised funds through a series of private placements locally, in the usa, canada and london. to publisher and editor of a capital markets newsletter distributed by subscription only to dozens of subscribers countrywide. in a legal precedent in - studied in business schools and law faculties across israel - was tried for his role in an attempted takeover of israel's agriculture bank. was interned in the state school of prison wardens. managed the central school library, wrote, published and lectured on various occasions. managed the internet and international news department of an israeli mass media group, "ha-tikshoret and namer". assistant in the law faculty in tel-aviv university (to prof. s.g. shoham). to financial consultant to leading businesses in macedonia, russia and the czech republic. collaborated with the agency of transformation of business with social capital. economic commentator in "nova makedonija", "dnevnik", "izvestia", "argumenti i fakti", "the middle east times", "makedonija denes", "the new presence", "central europe review" , and other periodicals and in the economic programs on various channels of macedonian television. chief lecturer in courses organized by the agency of transformation, by the macedonian stock exchange and by the ministry of trade. to economic advisor to the government of the republic of macedonia and to the ministry of finance. to present senior business correspondent for united press international (upi) web and journalistic activities author of extensive websites in psychology ("malignant self love") - an open directory cool site philosophy ("philosophical musings") economics and geopolitics ("world in conflict and transition") owner of the narcissistic abuse announcement and study list and the narcissism revisited mailing list (more than members) owner of the economies in conflict and transition study list. editor of mental health disorders and central and eastern europe categories in web directories (open directory, suite , search europe). columnist and commentator in "the new presence", united press international (upi), internetcontent, ebookweb and "central europe review". publications and awards "managing investment portfolios in states of uncertainty", limon publishers, tel-aviv, "the gambling industry", limon publishers., tel-aviv, "requesting my loved one - short stories", yedioth aharonot, tel-aviv, "the macedonian economy at a crossroads - on the way to a healthier economy" (with nikola gruevski), skopje, "malignant self love - narcissism revisited", narcissus publications, prague and skopje, , , the narcissism series - e-books regarding relationships with abusive narcissists (skopje, - ) "the exporters' pocketbook", ministry of trade, republic of macedonia, skopje, "the suffering of being kafka" (electronic book of hebrew short fiction, prague, ) "after the rain - how the west lost the east", narcissus publications in association with central europe review/ceenmi, prague and skopje, winner of numerous awards, among them the israeli education ministry prize (literature) , the rotary club award for social studies ( ) and the bilateral relations studies award of the american embassy in israel ( ). hundreds of professional articles in all fields of finances and the economy and numerous articles dealing with geopolitical and political economic issues published in both print and web periodicals in many countries. many appearances in the electronic media on subjects in philosophy and the sciences and concerning economic matters. contact details: palma@unet.com.mk vaknin@link.com.mk my web sites: economy / politics: http://ceeandbalkan.tripod.com/ psychology: http://samvak.tripod.com/index.html philosophy: http://philosophos.tripod.com/ poetry: http://samvak.tripod.com/contents.html after the rain how the west lost the east the book this is a series of articles written and published in - in macedonia, in russia, in egypt and in the czech republic. how the west lost the east. the economics, the politics, the geopolitics, the conspiracies, the corruption, the old and the new, the plough and the internet - it is all here, in colourful and provocative prose. from "the mind of darkness": "'the balkans' - i say - 'is the unconscious of the world'. people stop to digest this metaphor and then they nod enthusiastically. it is here that the repressed memories of history, its traumas and fears and images reside. it is here that the psychodynamics of humanity - the tectonic clash between rome and byzantium, west and east, judeo-christianity and islam - is still easily discernible. we are seated at a new year's dining table, loaded with a roasted pig and exotic salads. i, the jew, only half foreign to this cradle of slavonics. four serbs, five macedonians. it is in the balkans that all ethnic distinctions fail and it is here that they prevail anachronistically and atavistically. contradiction and change the only two fixtures of this tormented region. the women of the balkan - buried under provocative mask-like make up, retro hairstyles and too narrow dresses. the men, clad in sepia colours, old fashioned suits and turn of the century moustaches. in the background there is the crying game that is balkanian music: liturgy and folk and elegy combined. the smells are heavy with muskular perfumes. it is like time travel. it is like revisiting one's childhood." the author sam vaknin is the author of malignant self love - narcissism revisited and after the rain - how the west lost the east. he is a columnist for central europe review, popmatters, and ebookweb , a united press international (upi) senior business correspondent, and the editor of mental health and central east europe categories in the open directory and suite . until recently, he served as the economic advisor to the government of macedonia. visit sam's web site at http://samvak.tripod.com nelka (mrs. helen de smirnoff moukhanoff.) - a biographical sketch. by michael moukhanoff foreward. in attempting this biographical sketch of nelka i am using the memories of years together and also a great number of letters as material. her aunt, miss susan blow, had the habit of keeping nelka's letters over the years. there are some as early as when nelka was only five years old and then up to the year , the year her aunt died. these letters reflect very vividly the personality, the ideas, the aspirations, the disappointments and the hopes of a person over a period of a long life. they paint a very real picture of her personality and for this reason i am using quotations from these letters very extensively. nelka de smirnoff was born on august , in paris, france. her father was theodor smirnoff, of the russian nobility. her grandmother had tartar blood in her veins and was born princess tischinina. nelka's father was a brilliant man, finishing the imperial alexander lyceum at the head of his class. a versatile linguist, he joined the russian diplomatic service and occupied several diplomatic posts in various countries, but died young, when nelka was only four years old, and was buried in berlin. nelka therefore hardly knew him, though she remembered him and throughout her life had a great veneration for him and loyalty for his memory. nelka's mother was nellie blow, the daughter of henry t. blow of st. louis, missouri. the blow family, of old southern aristocratic stock, moved from virginia to st. louis in . henry t. blow was then about fifteen years old and had several brothers and sisters. he was a successful business man who became very wealthy and was also a prominent public and political figure, both in st. louis and nationally. he was a friend of both abraham lincoln and of president grant and received appointments from them. he was minister to venezuela and later ambassador to brazil. he was active in politics from on. though his brothers were southern democrats, henry blow took a stand against slavery and upheld the free-soil movement. during the civil war he was the only one of the family to take the side of the union and spent much of his time getting his brothers out of prison camps. for a time he was state senator and for two terms was congressman in washington. he also served as one of the three commissioners for the district of columbia. he was married to minerva grimsley and had ten children. his daughter nellie blow, while in brazil with her father, met theodor smirnoff who was then secretary at the russian embassy there. she married him in carondolet, part of st. louis, where the family lived, in . they had three children, a boy and a girl, who died in infancy in st. petersburg, russia, and another girl, nelka, who was born in and was therefore the only living child. henry t. blow's oldest daughter (and nelka's aunt) miss susan blow was a prominent figure in the american educational movement, writing and lecturing on education, and the one who introduced the froebel kindergarten system in the united states. the youngest daughter, martha, married herbert wadsworth of geneseo, n.y. she was a very talented musician and painter and later became a very known horsewoman. after nelka's father died in europe, her mother returned to america and it was the first time that nelka came here. as a daughter of a russian, nelka was also a russian subject and remained a russian that way to the end. after the russian revolution, having no allegiance to the soviet government, she became what is known as "stateless," a position which in later years she liked, for she always said that she belonged to the world, not just one country. but as a child her mother wanted to bring her up as a russian even though in many ways this was difficult, for there were no relatives and few connections left in russia, her mother did not speak the language and all ties and connections were in america. because of this conflict of attachments, nelka's mother and she traveled many times back and forth between europe and america. her mother gave her a very complete and broad education both in america and in europe. in europe she attended a very exclusive and rather advanced school in brussels. because of this nelka spoke not only perfect french and english, but german as well. when she was ten years old she went to a school in washington. she then already showed interest and love for animals which later became a dominant feature in her life. writing to her aunt susie from washington : "at uncle charles drake the boys have a little pet squirrel; it don't bite them but it bites strangers if you give it a chance to. they have some little guinea pigs that are very cute." she also at that age showed intellectual interests: washington . "i read very much now whenever i get a chance to. i think it is splendid and always amusing. i can play lots of little duets on the piano with mama. i love it." her stay in the school in brussels was very profitable for her studies and development and also showed in her letters how much interest she took in everything. brussels . "i know what you mean about my getting older. you think that at every different age i would be content to be that age if i did not get any older. so i was. when i was ten i thought it would be dreadful to be eleven, but when i was eleven i was quite satisfied if i did not have to be twelve, and so on. but ever since i have been fourteen i have thought it was awful and have never become reconciled to it." brussels . "i was first in grammar, literature and physics. do you know the 'melee' of victor hugo? i have just read it and i like it so much. i would like to see some persons who have lived and who live. it makes me crazy to see people vegetate." brussels . "we went to waterloo. we went by carriage all the way, first through the bois de la cambre and then on through the most perfect woods imaginable. we went to a sort of little mound in the middle of the battlefield with a huge lion on top as the emblem of victory. one thing, although of no importance, i like so much, that was three little birds nests one in the lion's mouth and one in each ear. wasn't it nice? we then went to the museum at the foot of the hill. i got a photograph of napoleon and one of wellington. i have such a contempt for napoleon and i just take pleasure in comparing it with the frank, open face of the duke of wellington." already at that age she was seeking answers to moral questions and showed her philosophical mind: brussels . "'une injustice qu'on voit et qu'on tait: on la commet soi meme.' (an injustice one sees and keeps quiet about: one commits it oneself.) i wish more persons could or would recognize that truth." as a child nelka did not speak russian, because there was no one around using this language. after her school in brussels, her mother took her to russia to st. petersburg. she was then seventeen. st. petersburg . "for the last few days i have been most blissfully absorbed in taine's 'ideal dans l'art.' i never knew it was in a separate volume. it is splendid. of course you know 'character' of smiles. i don't care for it much, so sermony. i am going to the hermitage tomorrow just to see the dutch and flemish schools." the same year her mother took her to paris and entered her to attend lectures at the college de france while living at the convent of the assumption. paris . "i have just come back from the college de france. i enjoyed the lecture very much; it was on stendhal. you will be perhaps surprised to learn that my educational career has taken a sudden turn. i am going into the convent of the assumption next week. now don't be horrified. the assumption is an exception to all the convents; besides the regular studies they have professors from the sorbonne, lycee henry iv and other colleges to come in and give lectures on foreign literature, history, art, etc. besides this unheard of privilege they have an atelier for drawing with ducet to correct, and living models, men, women and children. of course mama never imagined such a thing possible in a convent, the general idea of convents not going beyond wax flowers. here are the privileges i will have: ) clock-like life and no time lost. ) no risk of disagreeable associations as they are most particular who they take. ) i will see mama almost every day. "i shall have to go to bed at eight! just fancy that!!! but then i have an astonishing capacity for sleeping and eating just now." while in paris, in addition to the general subjects and the lectures at the sorbonne, nelka also studied music, in particular the violin, and at a time was quite proficient in it, though she did not keep it up, as she did with painting, which she continued for a number of years. nelka's mother tried to bring her up in the russian spirit with a great veneration for the memory of her father. nelka grew up with a burning nationalistic feeling for russia and a veneration for the russian emperor. her mother kept up relations with such russians as she knew or who were with the russian embassy when in washington. and later, when she grew up, nelka continually kept up with her russian friends. i think characteristic of nelka was her highly emotional expressions of loyalty and devotion, an emotion which dominated all of her life and all of her actions. anything she did or undertook was primarily motivated by emotion or feeling rather than reason, but once decided upon was carried out with determination and a great deal of will power. but because the difference of national attachments and the resulting conflict there was always a tearing apart and a division, a duality of attachments both to russia and to america, and this seems to have been an emotional disturbance which lasted with her for a great many years. her first, overwhelming emotional feeling was a patriotic nationalistic devotion to russia and a mystic devotion to the emperor and the russian orthodox church. then her next emotional feelings embraced the devotion and loyalty for her family and her kin. but in russia she had no relatives and all her family was in america. because of that there seemed always a conflict of emotions, attachments and loyalties which dominated as a disturbance throughout her life, at least through the first half of it. this conflict of feelings was upsetting and painful and she suffered a great deal from the frustrations that these emotions often brought about. the russian education of feelings for russia which her mother tried to install in her succeeded, for throughout life nelka remained a faithful russian in all of her feelings and while having so many ties in america, and being herself half american, she was constantly in conflict with the 'american way of life.' from her early childhood nelka had a tremendous love and devotion not only to her mother but also to her two aunts, miss blow and mrs. wadsworth. when in america she and her mother would stay either in ashantee with the wadsworths or in cazenovia where miss blow had her home. early in life she was seeking and trying to think things out. she was never satisfied, never ready to accept something but always tried to analyze it through her own thinking. at the age of twenty she wrote in : "i have absolutely no facility for expression; that is what is the matter. i see persons so clever, so talented, and genuine in their line and with absolutely distorted points of view. how aggravating. i feel that in due time i may get to see something clearly (at least thus far, if i do not see things clearly, i have not been pleased to see any other way), and i am craving a means of giving out. you will say i need the persistence to educate myself in the technique of some mode of rendering my impressions. i suppose it is so. that is what i have always meant with this desire to 'exhaust' myself. i need to work. i need to give out or i shall have such a mental indigestion that i shall no longer be able to form a single thought. as it is, so many things are fleeting through me in incompleteness, in mere suggestion and so simultaneously at that, that i am bewildered. o, for complete cessation of consciousness, since this consciousness is but that of an amalgamation quantity of incomprehensible suggestions, or else, for a vent for some of this shapeless, immature acquisition, so that something at least can complete itself." was this just a disturbance of youth, of any youth, not completely empty-headed, frivolous or superficial, or was this the result of a distinct inheritance of two very different and opposing personalities, of so different nationalities and with an addition of even tartar blood? i don't know. the fact remains that she was constantly emotionally disturbed and constantly seeking the answers of life, that so many have done and so few have found. in the same year, not long before her mother died, she wrote from narragansett pier : "i am very much puzzled still on individuality, that is, on its everlasting existence. i do not see at all how it can be, but i am waiting. perhaps i can see soon. i have been trying to get a definition for art and for beauty. i have nothing that satisfies me yet. art and beauty: i do not connect them at all in my mind. art is based on significance first and this does not depend on beauty. beauty is much more difficult to define than art. we have somehow got the idea that only the beautiful pleases. can beautiful be applied to whatever pleases? i don't think so. beauty is truthfulness of what? of the original intention i suppose. is beautiful something or is it not? anyway i detach it from that which pleases. if beauty is something distinct that which pleases is not always beautiful. is beauty independent of taste? it is so hard to think out. however, i never think anything without knowing it, and i know very few things, needless to say." washington . "it is terrible to be twenty! but i proved myself still young in being able to shed a tear over my departed teens. mama and all of our little russian colony drank my health wishing me each in turn to find myself each year one year younger, till i had to stop them less they eclipse me altogether. i think my nineteenth was the fullest year i have ever had--crammed." when she was twenty, nelka went with her mother to narragansett bay for the summer. here a very tragic event took place which left an imprint on nelka, if not for life, then certainly for many years. one afternoon, while sitting and talking with her mother, the latter suddenly collapsed and died instantly. nelka was there all alone with her. the blow was terrible. for a very long time, being highly emotional, she could not get over this tragic end of a person with whom she had always been so close and so intimate. she went into deep mourning and remained in a state of frozen sorrow. writing to her aunt susie she expressed so vividly the tragic feeling of complete sorrow which gripped her: st. louis . "no one could offer more generously what unfortunately i feel that i may never have. don't misunderstand me, dear poodie, but my 'home' was forever lost when mama left me and i can never find it except with her. i am mama's own and my 'home' such as you mean it can only exist in memory and anticipation." "i am thankful to god that i am left on earth with such aunts as you and pats. not many in my situation are so blessed. i shall always feel alone. but perhaps i have had more of mama than many have in twice the time." it is true that by circumstances she had always lived very much together with her mother, who as a widow had nothing but her. even when nelka was in school, her mother lived in the same city and saw her constantly, and their closeness was very complete. again she writes: "in all events i have had more in life than i deserve, more than one should dare hope for." "i was sorry to disappoint you yesterday, but i cried all the afternoon." a year later--washington . "try as i will i do not see how i can ever take up any interest again. i have so little desire to go on with anything and i am so satisfied with what i have had." washington . "i went to church this morning and i was surprised to realize how heathenish and unchristian the sermon sounded to me. it was painful to feel that i did not believe one word of what a christian minister said. what a network man seems to have made of the simplest things, wherein to be everlastingly confounded. might one just look up and reach out overhead, instead of looking around one and trying to grope at one's level. truths made intangible by the impenetrable meshes of faulty creeds and imperfect reasoning." ashantee . "please do not worry about me. i told you that i was peaceful and content, which i am. i want nothing which i cannot get and my mind is reposeful. i do not care to understand anything. that i have got to accept whatever may come is manifest and the wherefore has ceased to trouble me, if it ever did. in the instances that have thus far come up in my life, what i should do has always been palpable enough and has required more determination or will. my inclination is to do as little as i can to maintain my peace of conscience. while i have no feeling of lassitude, i also feel no incentive, and while without this one need not fail utterly, one will not probably accomplish much." "i don't believe there are many happy lives. mama gave me more happiness in the given number of years than i shall ever have again, though doubtless, if i live long enough, i shall have some more happy moments. this is to be supposed. but all this matters so very, very little." "i don't think that out of what is anything better is going to be." "the external situation in general is not bad and as far as i can see, the trouble lies in the natures of the individuals and is more or less beyond remedy. the tragedy arriving from trying to unite in action and purpose where in mind and heart and soul there is no union, no mutual illumination, no mutual comprehension of the point of view, will be everlasting. 'constater et accepter' and the sooner to 'constater' correctly, the sooner futile struggle ends." "goodnight. i neither weep nor laugh and i am glad to go to bed; might be a good deal worse off, if i had no bed." ashantee . "i have lots of things to talk to you about but i don't know where to begin. i want to say one thing that i think, which is that i think it is very difficult to judge practically when a too analytical definition of a condition or state is substituted for the ordinary and worldly vernacular. i think one must often fall into error from too great an attempt of metaphysical accuracy (precision), for whatever the thing in essence, the reaction thereof upon the multitude is made more forcible and more lucid to the mind by the term applied to it at large. for instance a crank is not a person of peculiar fancies." ashantee . "great griefs are beyond all expression, but the stillness of agonizing moments is worse. why, oh, why anything?" "i cannot feel anything. that makes variety but it is being alone in interests, the feeling unchanged, the purposes conceived and striven for singly that makes the struggle seem hard and the achievement futile." a girl of twenty or twenty-one, she was always questioning, always, seeking, always disturbed. ashantee, december . "you see i am making use of the divine right of the individual which you are ever proclaiming and you must not mistake this for unniecelike freedom of speech. i can only live and learn and perhaps learn to see how often i am mistaken. i am still in that pitiful state of youthful consciousness and have with it the confidence to act upon what i think. and to me almost every general rule becomes transformed under the allowances one must make for the modifications of the issue at hand. i think that often all that is most vital in life may be lost be adhering to formulated precepts and i think that every occasion calls for special and particular consideration for its solution." after staying a while in america, after her mother's death, nelka decided to go to europe in order to change her ideas and get away from memories. this was a wise move and gave her a great deal of comfort, and helped build up her morale. she first went to paris where she once again went to the convent of the assumption and took up the study of painting in earnest at the julien studios. from paris she also went to visit her friends the count moltke and his wife in denmark and then later went for four months to bulgaria where she stayed with mr. and mrs. bakhmeteff, my uncle who was russian ambassador in sofia and madame bahkmeteff who was nelka's godmother. these two years in europe were a very happy, steadying and pleasant time for nelka and she regained a hold of herself. especially she loved paris as she always did. she told me once that when in paris at the time she was so exhilarated that she felt like walking on air. but her observations of life and its questions continued as always, something that never left her. she wrote a great deal to her aunt susie and there are many interesting observations made during that period. paris . "i don't believe there is any use trying to understand things until an issue comes up and i believe that anyone who has heretofore responded to the flagrant necessities and requirements of life will be able to solve and meet more readily, more justly and more normally any problem which may arise. more is there to be learned and more balance and judgment gained in attending to one's most minute duties than in hours of mental anticipation of possible events and questions, conjured up in necessary incompleteness. what beauty there is here! the intellectual and emotional stimulus would make a cow tingle, and yet not some people i know." paris . "i am disgusted with the ending of the century with two wars, it is a disgrace. i think the whole world is very horrible anyhow and i don't believe in worldly goods and possessions, or countries, or governments and i don't see why everyone by inhabiting tropical climes couldn't dispense with clothes and even the lazy could find food where the vegetation is luxuriant. i think it is artificial to live in a place where one's own skin is not sufficient protection against the weather. i think the whole organization of everything is abominable and i don't believe it is a necessary stage of development. most ordinary lives are the quintessence of artificiality and the grossest waste of time. i am more than ever against the 'me' in myself. it is the source of all evil." paris . "i have read some illuminating bits and i think i will finish by finally building myself a scant but solid creed for i have cast all preconceived notions from me, rooted out all expressions of habit and influence, and cleared, though perhaps still warped dwelling of my former tentative suppositions will contain henceforth but the jewels of certain convictions, or remain empty evermore!" paris . "the stimulating effect of this place is wonderful. i don't know what it is, but it is just life to everything in one. i have absolute peace of mind and i have no mental worries or torments. nothing seems complicated, nothing seems involved and everything that i can help is satisfactory. i want to lose myself in my work and i have every advantage for doing so. paris is wonderful, i never so appreciated it before." "i am so busy, i have my whole week planned ahead for almost every second. you see i am at the studio every morning including saturday and have several lessons a week in the afternoon. new years i dined at the la beaumes. there was just the immediate family and we were twenty-three at table." (these were part of a french branch of the relatives of nelka on her mother's side.) paris . "i can understand people with no sentiment, but i will not tolerate people who scoff at it." "i am so glad to have the russian church here. i go every sunday." paris . "i don't have a minute to spare. this is what i wanted and the life though very full is easy and tranquil. the free reality of thought is delightful and wonderful. i do not include freedom of expression. i wonder how much i fool myself? it is not an intolerance which wishes to promote self but which is limited and dead to a variation of its own species because it lacks the consciousness of its own incompleteness. a man who does not wish to dominate and emphasize his will upon his surroundings, including people, is not a whole man. my russian is getting on. i will be very glad when i have mastered the language, then i am going to begin italian." as a child nelka did not speak russian and only started studying it when grown up. when she later went to russia she still was very weak in the language and only gradually picked it up with practice, but eventually knew it very well. paris . "how madly busy all the little people are, bussing over the planet, and for what? how nice it is to go to sleep. i am going to bed. p.s. i think it is an intellectual crime to wear long skirts in the streets." paris . "one must be earnest or else laugh at everything and end in despair. i am so satisfied with my present condition that i think it would be foolish to upset it all after so short a time. i am just beginning to feel the peaceful reaction of it all and i dread the idea of getting roused again before having fully got hold of myself. the total change i felt necessary proved a salvation and that complete absence of all reminders of the past year is the only thing wherein i can get quiet. i do not want to go over what i have felt. suffice it to say that i want to stay just as i am until after next winter when i will feel like going back to america without regret. i do not feel equal to any more emotions." paris . "i do not understand the 'variety of perfection.' i think it is impossible and therefore absurd to try to preface for this life, well up on our own inheritance, as you say. there has been too much practical research and study and not enough character building, the result: total lack of balance and maniacs. anything better that would admit of more possibility of collectedness of peaceful contemplation of the possibility of perfecting the least act with the whole of oneself. the least act is worth it. how does one live now? scattered over the universe, over the time. there are no whole people except a few who keep their entirety within the arbitrary limitations of prejudice and habitual notions of which they are possessed. the other: they are fragments, cranks and nonentities. one more thing, i do not think that a nation can be judged by its great men. great men belong to humanity, to the century, to anything but not to their country. i think intelligence and capacity is never local, and it is the average and the habit of life that determines the country." paris . "i do not think that anything is likely to happen to me except perhaps softening of the brain and that would happen anywhere. i have seen no one to whom it is likely that i will lose my heart, so i am quite safe." paris . "i do find everything so funny, and people so funny, not individuals, but as a whole, by funny i mean queer. the senseless mode of existence, the superfluous education: these artificial restrictions. it is especially the artificiality of so many things. who is going to do away with it all? i don't understand anything and i know there is no use trying to build up an understanding on rules." that summer nelka went for a month's visit to denmark to her friends count and countess moltke. glorupvej, denmark . "we were still two days on the steamer getting to bremen and then we changed trains and boats about fifteen times in hours getting here. but once here it is beyond all words in delight. the place is perfectly beautiful. i cannot describe it to you. it is so quiet, so far away from everything. beautiful forests that we drive through, deer all over, swans, fountains and all so old. i lead a most regular of lives. everyone is exact to the minute, for meals and everything. i feel that it is a very great opportunity i am having to be here in denmark and see all this new country. it is so interesting and i enjoy it so much. it was very sweet of louisette to ask me." glorupvej, denmark . "what you write in answer to my saying that i like 'whole soulness': it is precisely the whole soulness which is not a conscious conquest that i like. i appreciate the merit of the last but it is not that which attracts me, which also reminds me that i want to tell you that i have come to the firm, clear and definite conclusion that a person that loves is not necessarily loving, nor a person that gives necessarily generous. a loving person may never love and a generous person may never give, and the practice of either quality does not indicate an impulse. one can conceive, accept and appropriate the idea of generosity, lovingness, etc., etc., and act it, but that is not the thing. i hate all effort which has for its aim the creation of self, the conscious creation. i like the self to become through slavery to the best natural impulses and through sacrifice brought in one's affections. seeing that we do depend on each other, it seems to me admissible that the surrender of self, which continues to be with me the highest of everything, should allow of a direct object as its means. i used to have a holy respect of the majority. now, when i see how many imbeciles go to make up that majority i am no longer afraid to throw over any precept that has filtered into my head, and if ever there was a revolutionist in thought, it is i. foolish beliefs and hobbies have become adorned with so much that appeals to the sense of the beautiful that one clings even to that, but then that is another element which can envelop rational things as well. of course all cannot help but be well, but then i am sure that the present condition is quite off the track and i have no respect for anything but pain, joy and sacrifice which are the only realities. life makes standards and standards don't make life." glorupvej . "i can tolerate wrong and weakness and everything else but that search for self and above all that pompous blowing of a horn before such empty things, such big sounding ambitions, that mock glory, that swelling in noble pride upon such fictitious hallucinations, that poor mesquin grandness. it is exasperating. i hate ambition to achieve. however, i suppose i am very foolish. i am a mass of vanity and self-seeking in my own way, but it is a great pleasure to cry down. i get roused sometimes on things that are not my business and i have felt very much inclined to express my opinion about some thing, but i suppose i had better not." "my life i think is molded on circumstance and on the best of my instinct and judgment which may be faulty but which in every special instance seems the safest to me. to remind oneself constantly that one's life is made up of days prevents one from taking most things 'au tragique' and makes existence passable enough." paris . "life is so short. the only peace is in remembering how short life is. i work so hard at my painting. my efforts alone deserve some results, but it is slow in forthcoming. this week however there is an improvement. i get up before seven every day and go to bed at nine and drink eight glasses of milk a day. i hope you are pleased. some emotion, more extremeness, some craziness, some feeling, really i think it is necessary. i do not see any satisfaction in anything but intense feeling. intense feeling which may come even in the quietest of lives and which does not depend upon external events. it is astonishing how easy it is to be tolerant of people's personalities, however unsympathetic to one, and how very easy also to be intolerant of their point of view." "there is nothing so disastrous as to be fooled by the appreciation where it is not deserved. how i wish i could do any one thing well." paris . "i hope it is a satisfaction to you to know how well pleased i am here and that i am absolutely content. i think i will indulge myself and get a jewel with your xmas present. 'the perfect one' loves to deck out in gems! i have been reading an essay on tolstoi and i am took with an attack of asceticism, unequaled by any heretofore. this, following my last sentence, is charmingly typical of my character, is it not? there is one girl here who really might be very nice. she is eyed as being somewhat emancipated by the household i think, but i think it is only youthful freshness of a first departure and inexperience in calculating the impression she makes on the style of her audience." at the end of the same year nelka went for four months to sofia, bulgaria where she stayed with the russian minister mr. bakhmeteff, my uncle and madame bakhmeteff who was an american and nelka's godmother. she enjoyed very much that stay in bulgaria and had a very interesting and pleasant time and great success. from sofia she wrote a number of letters which reflect both the interest of her stay there as well as the continued constant searching so typical of her youth, and perhaps of her whole life. sofia . "how can i tell you how i feel at being here. it is an entirely new world. so interesting and so beautiful! no one could be lovelier to me than madame bakhmeteff. she comes in to my room every two minutes and asks me if i have anything under the sun and seems so pleased to have me here. it is really delightful. i have a sitting room next to my bedroom all to myself, filled with every book that i have been longing to get hold of. everything is so picturesque. i was delighted with denmark but how different this is. there is something i respond to in that orderly, cold atmosphere, but i think there is more that i respond to in the orient. how much more simple and less complicated the life is here. i was almost stopped at the hungarian and servian frontier because i had no passport. by the merest chance i had a very old one in my bag which was absolutely invalid but which, added to my absolute refusal to leave the train, got me by the three frontiers in the end. i called a turk and a servian who were in the same compartment to my rescue and for an hour or more carried on a heated discussion in every language. i am going to ride every day much to my delight. the diplomatic corps have to depend almost entirely on each other and it is very interesting being thrown with people of so many different nationalities. i have been living so fully it seems to me for the last three or four years and still always a crescendo. i don't know why i always write so much about myself--egotistical youth--but how i realize my youth. even while youth itself makes my head whirl, i stand back within myself and say almost sadly--it is youth. it is sad in a way because i know that the reaction of great interest upon me is youth, and not the interest." sofia . "you speak of danger; i don't see where danger is. the worst evil is prejudice. without prejudice and without too much drive for worldly attainments, i don't see much danger. i am satisfied as far as i myself am concerned. every moment is exciting and the regret or irritation i feel against many existing conditions is not wholly disagreeable. this is youth, and when i am older i will jog along at a slower rate. i am not like you, or like almost anyone i know, but i admire and respect those most whom i resemble the least. i am one mass of contradictions to myself, perhaps, supremely self-centered." sofia . "the freedom i have, good or bad, does not depend on the external conditions of one's life. i have enough sense of what is practical to keep in certain lines. no conditions on earth would hamper me mentally and i want to get life-proof through living." "how i hate business! more and more i am beginning to think less and less of what one accomplishes materially in this life. what does it matter? i think it is less help to be able to help those about one a little materially and be more or less a nonentity as an individual than to be able to mean something as a person with a heart and comprehension. there are some beautiful things in this life that everything organized tries to make hideous and monstrous and i would always say 'gather ye roses while ye may.' i think that every one has almost a right to some happiness and a certain indulgence and the 'droit de temperament,' means something and need not always be selfish. if you do not think this, then there is only the other extreme of austere abnegation of self for any cause however trivial. nature is the only guide and i don't believe nature is bad. of course the curse of freedom will allow one for a long time to distort and vilely modify natural instincts, but at least one can fly from the too palpable artificial. dear poodie, don't sigh. i only let off steam in words--that is safe. i am still a slave to this disgusting civilization and always your very devoted 'perfect one', that is to be, or might have been, nelka." sofia . "i really ought not to talk because i don't give myself the trouble to put my thoughts on general things in order and in every comment i always have the desire to embrace everything. i follow my own thoughts but love the immediate point and my brain is not in the proper condition to command its own vagaries." sofia . "what a delightful and full summer i have had. i can only reiterate that i am satisfied. i have had so much. given my nature and my life, more than anyone i know. i may be mistaken in everything but i never doubt my application when i am about to act. perhaps i will some day, but i don't think so. i have learned a certain 'science de la vie,' meaning this time the artificial, irrational life that is practiced and that i despise. apart from this i have my own notion of real life and that is my own luxury. when i write so it sounds so big and so out of place for a girl, i always regret saying anything. if what i think means anything it will be shown in my life and so far my life is only a selfish, soft existence, so perhaps that is all i mean. i don't know that i love many things with conviction, but i know i have a contempt with conviction for many things." "i have stopped looking at life as written with a big l. regarding it only as an indefinite term of years is much less appalling; it does not lessen the joys and does lessen the sorrows and disappointments. the method now is to catch every minute and stretch it for all it is worth." "you say i am not adaptive. it is difficult to s'entendre on what that means. many sides i am, to my detriment. too many sides for it seems to me i can fit into almost any opening with equal interest. and i find very few environments wholly uncongenial. i am not conscious of exacting in my nature any particular strain or line but what irritates and antagonizes me in any environment is the presumption on the part of the creator of that environment that theirs is the only world-view. i suppose the really strongest thing in me is an instinctive spirit of contradiction, for i always rise spontaneously against anything and everything that is proclaimed to me as being so. this is perhaps rather sweeping but it is more or less so. people influence me never by what they tell me but by the general impression they make on me and that i see them make on other people. i believe what i just wrote is nonsense. i only mean to say that i am only intolerant of intolerance. i think the ordinary rules of good behavior demand a certain amount of tolerance and with that any milieu is possible. i am sure of a few things but these few things are very firmly fixed in my mind. nothing surprises me." sofia, . "i know there is a certain fundamental something in me that will make me apply the same reasoning to everything and i am never worried about any question. in fact i don't know what it is to have a question in mind--that which might be one is simply left out. i cannot say i know myself of course, but i know more of myself than anyone else does and i am certainly more severe. i do not recognize a good thing in me. i believe i am level headed and more or less reasonable, but that is not my merit. any sanity of judgment i have comes from mama. whatever good there may be is due entirely to her. i am not afraid of anything. i am ready for anything. the truth is the only thing worth caring about. not the great universal truths that one can search and cherish while living in a mass of lies but just the truthfulness of one's life and everyday actions. try to call things what they are and it is a perfect realm of ever increasing delight, for everything around us is lies from beginning to end. but in general everything is lies and the ambitions are all false and the education is no better than the shoes that are put on chinese female feet to stunt and deform them. what a sweet and perfect simile. how did i happen to fall on it?" sofia . "i am thinking seriously of working just about twice as much as i did last winter. if one would do anything the least in art one must give oneself to it hours and live these hours double. there is no art but good art and what is not best is not art at all. i hate pretense. it only exists among people who know nothing. i know nothing in any line but i would rather remain a nullity studying with serious intentions than profit of or repose upon some meaningless accidental achievement. of all traits presumption is the most insufferable. oh, how one is anxious to put one's finger in pies one is completely incapable of understanding." after her stay in bulgaria, nelka return to paris to finish her studies before returning to america. paris . "oh how stimulating this place is and how much study and achievement there is. what a lecture i heard. it was more helpful to me than anything i can remember for a long while. and what a book i have got! a complete resignation without losing energy on one's work at hand that is what one may strive for. energy and conviction and élan are not usually resigned to all obstacles and resignation is often lassitude. i feel resignation so necessary and at the same time i have such infinite faith in the power of 'il faut' (one must). the worst thing i am afraid of is to become tired in the way i mean. i think it is more hopeless than disgust and disillusion." paris . "where can i read something holding your point of view which would be more within my range of understanding than hegel? i can't understand free will as independent of our physical being and i don't see how will can be something different from a kind of complicated reflex. i am afraid there is no help for it. i will have to inform myself somehow. anyway my head always seems clearer over here. i wish i could be so in america. you would not believe how waked up i can get. i believe it is in the air. there is something both stimulating and relaxing in the moral atmosphere that i feel only here." after her stay in paris and bulgaria, nelka returned to america and stayed either with her aunt miss blow or with her aunt mrs. wadsworth: in the summer in cazenovia or ashantee, in winter in washington where her aunt martha had a large house which had just been built and occupied for the first time in . her aunt kept up a very active social life and while nelka stayed through all this social activity she never liked it. she kept in close contact with the varied european embassies and especially the russian embassy, where she enjoyed the influence of the european atmosphere. ashantee, november . "i do not want to complicate the interpretations of my condition and i want above all things to cease dwelling so selfishly upon it. there is no need of looking for unaccountable voids, longings and the like. i have been unhappy and shattered ever since mama died. my own nature gives me much to contend with and i want to get away from it all. i am unfit for anything but concentration, and i am not made for the world i live in. if i am not married by the time i am twenty-seven, i am determined to go into a convent or our red cross. i may change my mind many times but this is my last word for the present. i have a contempt, when not pity, for the lives of most of the people i see around me and mine is among the most selfish and aimless. i do not wish to read or think or study. and as for 'consciously living for a true world view,' i want to run away from every form of consciousness." ashantee . "you speak in your letter of forming an unconscious totality of feeling and tendency out of their necessarily limited experiences, and of not living independently of the deposit of human struggle and thump. certainly one should perhaps profit by the last but i cannot imagine acquiring anything: conviction, principle, or any attitude of mind except by simple experience. i think we may experience in an ordinary life all that is necessary to build a sufficient and adequate world view. and what i read means nothing to me except where i can compare it with my own experience or consider it in relation to my own experience. i do not think that i can have a proper world view until i am old enough to have had time to experience life and i don't want to go ahead of my experience in reading." ashantee, november . "kitty and i have just come in from a long disagreeable day in rochester where we are having clothes made. it is extremely painful to me, but all this kind of thing just pushes me more in the opposite direction and makes me firmer in my fast maturing resolution. i am exceedingly blue. in fact, it is only occasionally that i am not so, and, as in the light of the world i have an unusual amount of things to make me the contrary, it must mean surely that i am not of the world and i wish, wish, wish that i were out of it." ashantee, december . "i am going to try and be reasonable and as mildly satisfactory as i may be and avoid extremes and keep hold of myself, as the only possible justification of my points of view and ideas, for no one will agree with them, and one cannot claim any merit in these, when the result offered is not better than anyone else." "i will never be influenced by anyone until i see someone who masters intelligently, calmly and practically situations as they occur. i have a great deal in myself to fight and the powerful helping influence has been mama and the warnings i have had from witnessing things that went wrong. i think the more one lives and the more one thinks, the simpler things get. the greatest of all dangers seems to me to fool oneself. really this seems to me to be the only hopeless plight and there comes to a certain fascination in trying to say things plainly to oneself. nothing is as strong as plain truth about a thing, and the moment one shirks it one is lost." one can see that back in america she was again distressed, discontented and uncertain. she had lost the tranquility and the assurance which she had while in europe. it seems to me that for some reason or other this feeling of unsatisfaction was always much greater in america than in europe and here she was always disturbed. a heavy test to her feelings of loyalty for russia came with the advent of the russo-japanese war in . america was in those days very pro-japanese and nelka suffered in her feelings while living in washington. finally, in a feeling of exasperation, she left washington in and returned to paris. here she studied at the french red cross to qualify as a nurse. she also resumed her painting studies. for medical practice she worked at a children's dispensary. denmark . "the trip is such a complicated one (back to paris) with such indefinite changes and waits that i feel sure it would not be right to go alone despite my mature years, and so there is nothing to do." (she was years old.) paris . "i have painted a portrait of myself, grinning from ear to ear, which you probably would not like, but it is the best i think i have done. it was for the salon with julien's great approval but it was refused with eight thousand other masterpieces. it is a fearful blow to me but salutary for my soul no doubt and this being my holy week i am going to try to benefit from the disappointment and chagrin. i must go and study now. i am doing hours a day of concentrated study." "i am having an attack of 'anti.' i am getting to feel further and further away. i like denmark. i am very much interested in the country, the people, the language. i think the difference between countries, the national characteristics so curious. this is such a beautiful place. it grows upon me more and more. the park is lovely with deer, hares and pheasants all around." paris, . "i go to the dispensaire every morning. i have got so much into it that i cannot get out. i enjoy it so much that i only remember once in a great while that i am be doing a little good in it as well. this war makes me feel terribly unhappy for many reasons, i cannot explain. i have an unreasoning longing to be in russia and doing something. it seems such a useless ridiculous war and so much loss. i cannot understand the way people view things. the loss of life and suffering just make me sick. i see no dignity or sense in anything but quiet and peace. the more importance one attaches to a question, the more pitiful and absurd it seems. what matters externally?" paris . "i feel old and addled. i am still dispensing with rage and interest. i was given a number of girls to give an illustration lesson in bandaging this morning. we have had a number of interesting cases lately. i shall be sorry to leave them." (she was years old, working at the french dispensary.) paris . "i have always before undertaken too much and accomplished less. i do not think it is what one studies but the way one studies anything which amounts to anything. as i have often said before, i have more faith in what i think in spite of myself, in the preferences that i discover in myself, than in those things which i consciously investigate. about the affections, i don't know. the affections i have seem stable enough to me and i feel an ultimate capacity for a larger order." after completing her red cross studies in paris and receiving a diploma which granted her the status of an apprentice nurse, nelka made arrangements to go to russia. this was not an easy undertaking. nelka had few connections in russia; her knowledge of the language was limited, her knowledge as a nurse likewise limited, and it took a great deal of determination to carry her plan through. the war at the moment was coming to an end with the defeat of russia and a revolutionary movement was afoot. the front thousands of miles away made transportation of the wounded lengthy and difficult, and, long after the hostilities had come to an end, a steady stream of wounded continued to arrive in the capital. it was a trying and difficult time for nelka. she was deeply upset by the tragic events of the lost war and the grumblings of the revolution. she got in touch with some friends in russia to help make necessary arrangements. a friend of her mother's, mr. pletnioff, made all preliminary arrangements to have her accepted in the kaufman community of sisters under the leadership of baroness ixkull, a very cultivated and capable person. also the bakhmeteffs were at that time in st. petersburg and they too helped make arrangements. despite the fact that nelka was then years old, she did not feel that she should travel alone and was trying to find someone who was going to russia from paris. a friend who was to go had to put off her trip and so recommended nelka to a friend of hers, a madame sivers, with whom she went and with whom later she became quite a friend. when she arrived she went at first to stay with mr. and mrs. bakhmeteff. early in she wrote from st. petersburg, upon her arrival: "yesterday already i saw madame hitrovo, veta, rurik and veta's son" (my grandmother, my mother and my uncle). this was the first time that i saw nelka. the bakhmeteffs gave a luncheon at the hotel de france where they were staying to meet nelka. as it was a family affair with no outsiders, my mother took me along. i was then about seven years old. a child of seven is not generally impressed by a grown up person, but nelka made a tremendous impression on me when i first saw her: an impression which never left me throughout life. from that day on she meant something to me, and that something grew and grew in my feelings for her with time and years. the russian red cross had a number of sister "communities" who were managed by ladies of the russian society. the one nelka joined was the kaufman community under the able management of baroness ixkull. nelka wrote from st. petersburg in : "baroness ixkull seems an awfully clever, energetic and altogether charming person. i think although the bakhmeteffs highly approve, they are afraid she is just on the edge of being a little 'advanced,' which to such arch conservatives as they, seems all wrong. the extremes are very great. you see pletnioff is somewhat liberal, but nothing in the sense that the word is used abroad and mr. bakhmeteff is for the strictest adherence to middle age regime. between the two i must find the just milieu. anyway everyone is in a certain sense conservative just now. for the moment i can only tell you of my delight at being here. i suppose the constitution had to come but surely autocracy is the only ideal government and i am sorry that the nation was not equal to it." here we see this very distinct adherence to the principles of the russian government of the autocratic regime, the adherence to which seemed only natural and acceptable to nelka in her idea of a patriotic russian. st. petersburg . "tomorrow it will be one week that i am in the hospital and i am getting quite accustomed to it. it is certainly a very complete change of habits in every way, but the essentials are all right. over and above everything is the joy of at last being able to do, if only a little, for the poor soldiers who have suffered so much and who are so good and patient. i shall never cease to regret that i did not get here at the beginning of the war. this is a perfectly beautiful hospital, quite large and everything perfect. the soldiers are so well provided for that i should think that some of them would almost hate to leave; but oh, poodie, it is so terrible to see them, many so young, without arms or legs and one whose head was almost blown off, so grateful to have a new glass eye put in him the other day. soon they are going to make him a nose. on thursday there was the opening of a new ward and the service and benediction were very impressive. the queen of greece came and i was presented to her." "there are four sisters in a room but the rooms are large with two big windows and they are very nice. sister belskaya speaks every language and has helped me a great deal. i am managing to get on somehow with russian but the other night when i had a conversation with a sister swetlova on subjects that were not absolutely elementary it was awfully funny. while the ward is being settled, of us are being sent to the big city hospital where all the sisters have been for a time to learn all kinds of things, but it is to be, i think, only for a few days. o, poodie, i cannot describe it to you. the hospital itself is all right enough, but the poor people! there are , there. we are in the surgical section for women. it is very various and valuable experience as you learn everything in a short while, but i would not care to prolong it." during the summer of nelka went with some of the wounded to finland where the convalescents were sent to recuperate in the country. she was then in her second year working with the wounded and was hoping to be able to return to america before too long. politics were very much of importance at that time in russia which had just emerged from an attempted revolution and certain political changes had taken place. a new parliamentary system had been formed but did not last and was breaking up. nelka wrote in from finland: "i cannot say what a feeling of relief and thankfulness i had when the duma (parliament) was dispersed. i cannot see that any solution is anywhere in view. no one seems to have the least assurance of what will happen. i feel so stirred up i really almost wish i was a man and could enter into the question and do something." "poodie, poodie, do you realize that i am almost an old lady of . it seems so funny for that is really honorable-- is young beside it. i wish you could see the sky here. such sunsets i have never seen--every day different and the colors on the lake unimaginable. i simply go flying to the roof, i don't know how many times and look and look and look." finland . "but believe me liberalism abroad is quite different from here and there is so much bad in it here. i don't think there is much hope for russia. i don't believe we have that in the character to maintain a nation." "what a terrible thing the attempt to kill stolypin. the people here really are out of their minds. the ones that think that these murders are for an 'idea.' o, poodie, i have learned so much since i have been here." "one sister, sister pavlova, is very nice--an aristocrat of correct views and a great satisfaction. she was two years at the war in a contagious hospital." finland . "i have the apothecary now and put up ten or fifteen prescriptions a day. i find it quite agitating for a novice and am simply calculating and recalculating over and over again. i am also in charge now of the operating room and surgical dressings, and do massage and night duty as before. this is just while we are here. when we go back to petersburg i will have the ward duty alone as before." "i am on night duty after a very strenuous day--assisted the doctor with the instruments and material for dressings, put up eight prescriptions myself, dressed the wounds of five finns, spent some time in the ward, went over the soldier's money accounts, did an hour massage, slept one hour and tomorrow morning i am going to take the temperatures at a.m., at seven put up a bottle of digitalis, at eight get into clean clothes, prepare the surgical dressing room for two dressings, give the instruments and material, and at half past eight or quarter to nine start with two soldiers for petersburg--one who is to be operated and the other who has been so ill for a week that they think it best to take him back as quickly as possible. neither of them can sit up. don't you think that is an undertaking? i am going to take the train back immediately after delivering them at the hospital and hope to get back by or o'clock and have a grand rest up for monday." "is life so full of resource or is the resource all in one's imagination and state of mind. it seems to me there is so much, so much, and yet the most sometimes seems just to suffer being 'suffered out' by the effect of certain moral efforts." finland . "this whole life is something so complete and so different and i feel now so much at home in it. had i been different i might not have needed what this experience has given me, but as it is, you will find a great deal more of me and have a great deal more of me than before i left. i know myself too well and know too well the unstableness of my moral interior to say that i may not need again some time." st. petersburg . "i often wonder now, since this life here in the hospital is so different from everything which has opened such new vistas, if there are an indefinite number of experiences which each would offer new points of view. for there it would seem that one must abstain from any general conclusions upon the things of the world, owing to one's limited experience. i am awfully glad to be thrown in this association with the soldiers. this is quite a revelation. they are in comparison with other people just like charts for little children to read, as compared with some hazy book. then there are all degrees of awakening. it is most interesting. i sometimes think that human beings are as different from each other as things of a different species." st. petersburg . "i told her (baroness ixkull) that i thought of leaving in august, if possible. she is so urgent about my staying altogether in the community that it makes it very hard to leave. at last i seem to have found something where i am thought to be very useful and i have fitting qualities, but alas so far from poodie and pats that it is not possible. at least it is a thing i know i am prepared for now and that is always open to me as a vent for energy, an occasion for helping and regulator of the nervous system. if there is war again i think nothing will hold me, but otherwise i am going to try to make my character a possible one so that it will be a more peaceful member of the family with you and pats." "no matter what i do later this year will have a lasting benefit. i don't know what it is. i never seem to get enough of life. i know the feeling that satisfies for i have had it a few times. perhaps it is youth, perhaps it is egotism, but anyway it is something that makes one wish one had five lives to live at once. i am laboring through a very interesting book on the evolution of matter which demands a great deal of concentration of a brain as uninformed in matters of science as mine. i refuse to think and accept things in 'terms' which when it gets to the point of the disassociation of atoms becomes difficult not to do. i wish i had a really active brain that would give me the results i want without requiring such an immense amount of will which i can't command." st. petersburg . "my plans seem unable to take any definite shape for the moment. i cannot leave my soldiers that i have had from the beginning and it is uncertain yet when they will be in a condition to leave. i wish i were a few years younger. i want to do so much." (she was then years old.) st. petersburg . "it is now seven a.m. i am just finishing night service but i feel quite lively just because i know it is ending. yesterday the 'sidelkas' (apprentices) received the cross. after they graduate they can take cases and be paid about $ a month. this course is only one year. the sisters' course is two years but of course their work is always free." in russia all nursing was considered to be a vocation and as such could therefore not be paid. all sisters received their maintenance and clothing from the community but no pay. st. petersburg . "i have just received your letter telling me of trenar's death." (trenar was a borsoi dog which nelka had and left in cazenovia. this was before she had her poodle tibi.) "mrs. lockman wrote me some time ago that he was very sick with distemper but had not written me since. useless to say how i feel. everyone does not feel the appeal of a dog's affection in the same degree, and with me it is as strong as anything i know. trenar in his devotion was exceptional, and not to have been with him when he was sick--i simply can't think of it. i didn't do anything that i should have with him. it was wrong to leave him. i love dogs and trenar was something very special. i didn't do what i should with him and in every way i am perfectly miserable about it, but it is useless of it--that is all. i know you feel sorry for the way i feel, but how i feel you can't know and it must seem out of place to you. anyway i feel it and i reproach myself. i just wish i could have been with him. i will never forget his attachment--dear little trenar." st. petersburg . "but i don't suppose you can conceive how i feel the autocracy, the emperor. i don't care what i think; i feel autocracy and the emperor simply not a human being to me. i read this and thought you would like it: 'sow an act and you reap habit; sow a habit and you reap a character; sow a character and you reap a destiny.'" st. petersburg . "for the last two weeks i have been all the time on duty with the operated cases. this last week i was on night duty every night except last night when i had to sleep to be on duty today. i am so tired of fussing with myself; it makes me so angry not to be a perfect machine. the things to do are all the same--the way to be is the same, and yet there is so much thinking, choosing, deciding, worrying. so few things matter, and so much should not have a moment's consideration. nine tenths of all the shackling considerations should simply never rise to consciousness." st. petersburg . "on xmas there was a big tree for all the soldiers who could walk and then there were a lot of little trees all arranged with presents for each room where the soldiers could not leave their beds. it was said in the morning that nothing would be done on xmas--no dressings, nothing, and i never worked so hard! as there were no dressings in the operating room i had to do quite a number somehow or other in bed, and then it was my day to keep the ward in the afternoon." st. petersburg . "i am beginning to think that the 'esprit' of the sisters here, that is most of them, is far too liberal. i get perfectly outdone with the papers some of the sisters bring into the ward, and i quickly lay hands upon everyone i find. there is no stemming the tide but i shall do what i can wherever i am, for it is too stupid. the soldiers are too uneducated." "you say in your letter that you understand that my father's country should be dear to me and yet you think that my mother's country might also mean something. what i feel, understand and see in america does not mean anything. i cannot feel as they do. what i care for most in the world is you and pats--that does not need to be said. as a country, for ideas, general point of view, etc. etc., russia and russians are more sympathetic and comprehensible. it is so different. but that is as far as country goes. the real tie, as i said before, is you and pats." finally after a stay of over two years in russia, nelka started back for america. but she took a round about way this time traveling first through russia to the crimea and from there by boat. written on the train between kharkoff and sebastopol . "i am on my way to the crimea--and then continue by boat to naples. i expect to get to paris by the th or th and to sail at the end of the month. what a place moscow is. o, it is so beautiful--so old and real russia, so solid and so unforeign. it was fearfully cold but i was out all the time and only had my nose frozen once. i hate, loath and detest every foreign influence in russia and every evidence that there is a world outside. the kremlin is certainly thorough in itself and i love it. i am palpitating at the thought of seeing you so soon. it seems to me i am just living in gulps. i feel somehow that the privileges i have had ought to be put to something now. how will i even put my whole self into one thing? everything has splendid possibilities but it is always the fearful alternative and its possibilities. anyway i have stopped waiting. i know there is nothing to wait for. i can hardly believe that i have had this year--that i have been in russia and that it is done. baroness ixkull tried to keep me to send me to the famine--but the famine will have to wait. i shall be so glad to get to yalta. my head is so tired and i shall be able to clear up my thoughts--i can hardly write. my head is popping off and my hand is cold and the train shakes. always your old nelka." ( years old) but back in america she once again was restless. social life had no appeal for her. there was something much more genuine in russia or even in europe--something much more alive, much less artificial. her aunt martha wadsworth tried to interest her in other things, take her mind off the brooding dissatisfaction which nelka was showing. in general oliver, then secretary of war, and a personal friend of mrs. wadsworth, decided to undertake a reconnaissance trip through new mexico, arizona and utah, partly to do some surveying and mapping of the area and partly to test a compressed fodder for horses invented by captain shiverick, also a friend of mrs. wadsworth. general oliver invited mrs. wadsworth to take the trip with him and she in turn asked nelka to come along. this was a most unusual, interesting and difficult trip, especially for women. it lasted six weeks. the first three weeks general oliver took part in the trip with a whole squadron of cavalry. then he left and the rest of the three weeks only a small party continued through the navajo indian reservation to the rainbow bridge in utah. this party consisted of only two officers, several enlisted men, one indian guide, nelka and her aunt. all on horseback and pack mules carrying supplies. they covered unmapped territory over the most rough and difficult terrain, which often was dangerous. even one horse was lost when it fell over a cliff and had to be shot because of injuries. they slept on the ground, froze during the cold nights while the heat of the day was always around a hundred, and on one occasion reached degrees. a great many very interesting pictures were taken during this trip. nelka always remained under the spell of this trip and the beauty of the untouched wilderness, but at the same time had some unpleasant impressions of the awesome country. also it lasted longer than she had expected and she was anxious to get home. only that year her aunt martha had given nelka a poodle puppy, tibi, which nelka left with her aunt susie in cazenovia. she was worried about the puppy all during her trip. incidentally, this tibi played a very important, and sad role in the life of nelka. the dog, because she was always with nelka and because of this close relationship, developed a very high degree of understanding and companionship with nelka. this mutual understanding resulted in a very deep attachment between nelka and tibi, and nelka certainly developed a very unusual love for this tibi, whom she always took with her back and forth between europe and america and kept always with her--except on the occasions when she was obliged to leave her for short periods. i knew tibi for she also had been left by nelka with me and my mother in the country on one or two occasions when i took care of her. here are some of the impressions that nelka gathered from this western trip and which she gave in her letters to her aunt susie: utah . "the navajo mountains and the natural bridge were, to me, terrible. i can never give you a complete description of it, but, aside from the other difficulties and trials, it impressed one as the most godless place conceivable. i don't see how anyone can keep any religion in the canyon in which the bridge is--such a mass of turbulent, ruthless rock, all dark red--hopeless, shapeless chaos. it all looked just as if there had been a smash up yesterday. no beyond, no nothing, nothing alive, nothing dead, every step of the way almost impassable and the feeling that every minute more rock could come smashing down. on the way there mr. whiterill, our guide, fell over with his horse when it was impossible to keep balance. he got loose, the horse fell over backwards several times, broke its neck, slid down sheer rock and fell about feet over a cliff, the sound was awful." "mr. heidekooper and i went down to the bottom of the canyon and lay back on the rocks with our feet in a pool. i closed my eyes and tried to forget these crushing walls." "there was a question of moving the sleeping blankets to get out of a scorpion patch, but we finally stayed where we were. i refused to mount my horse firmly and flatly until we got out of the worst part of the canyon, so i walked miles when i had to pick every step on sharp stones. on the way back, pat's horse went head over heels down another steep place but was not killed. still a few miles further my horse slipped going over a huge mass of rock as smooth as an egg and about the same shape and everyone thought he was about to be hurled to instant death, when by a miracle he screwed around, got himself up and caught his footing again. my mental agony had been so great that i had not a bodily sensation. i took my blanket, rolled up in it and went to sleep by some trees under some branches and a log. we came over the rocks where one misstep would have sent the horses to the bottom. no place even to spread his four feet before the next step. my heart was in my mouth most of the time. i don't know what impression you might get from my letter. i have seen the most beautiful sunsets, but there are more essential elements than these to live in peace and the limits of what i can do now are very marked. i am wound up to the last degree. there are lovely indians here." kianis canyon . "we arrived here in the rain; the pack train with the lunch miles behind and a waste of thistles to sit on, but it cleared up soon after and everything got settled. there are two very nice dogs along--kobis and terry. terry belongs to mr. s. and has his ears cut to the roots. i need not insist upon what i feel for both the dog and the man." canion de chelley, august . "this country is too wonderful for words. it is the place--the only way to live. i wish you could see it and i wish you loved it as i do. won't you bring tibi and the boys and stay here? oh, oh, there is nothing to say." gonado . "i get up at and see the sunrise and generally take the things in before everything gets astir. we have breakfast at , : and start our marches at . it was so cold one night i got up at : and made up the camp fire. my face is dark brick and painful but i think i had too much cold cream fry and i have stopped. the heat of the sun is great. wednesday we crossed the 'painted desert' which was even more beautiful than the canion and camped at a kind of oasis on a little lake and were able to have a swim--though the desert was full of rattle snakes and the lake full of lizards." "i walked off and got lost almost hours. they had the whole troop out looking for me, and the trumpeters blowing for over an hour. there was no moon and i had decided to spend the night where i was by a cactus, when i saw a light in the dim distance and finally captain mccoy found me. it gave me a vivid sense of how misleading the flatness of the desert can be. when captain mccoy found me he could not see me ten feet away and i think it was chiefly the white dog he had with him that found me. i had had to take off both shoes and stockings about two hours before as the mud was so heavy i could not raise my feet and it was raining part of the time. every place where the indians live in their natural mud huts it is clean and inoffensive. as soon as there is a sign of a real house, or what you call civilization, there is dirt, smells, refuse heaps and flies--and of all the sights in my life, bar none, the washstand in mr. hubble's store, with wet newspaper, stagnant slop jar, dirty tooth brush, filthy basin, sloppy soap--all humming with flies--is the worst i have ever seen and the most stomach turning. there is some freak from boston in a checkered suit and goggles who walks around with some ideas for indian betterment. i think they have reached the highest pitch in the fact that they do not scalp him! i had coffee, oatmeal and bacon all out of one bowl. i drink water that looks like bean soup and never use a fork and a spoon at the same meal. sand and cinders or charcoal flavor everything, and i have fished olives out of the sand where they had fallen and eaten them with perfect satisfaction. materially this certainly is the way to live. spiritually some shifting might improve it." back from the trip and into civilization, nelka again was restless and discontented with her surroundings. again she longed for europe and especially russia. her little dog tibi became of primary importance in nelka's life. despite her love for animals, nelka admits that up to that time she had no special attachment or deep affection for dogs. dogs were just something you had around you; they were part of everyday life, but that was about all. but with tibi, nelka's affection for her grew and grew, and they became unusually attached to each other. like all dogs who are constantly with a person, they develop a great maturity and intelligence. tibi did just that. she was a very highly developed animal, as i remember her well. the winter of - nelka spent again with her aunt martha in washington. her aunt had a large house and was in the social whirl of the capital. dinners, balls, the white house, the embassies--but all this meant little to nelka and she felt the futility of all that activity, its artificiality and uselessness. irritated and longing for a change she once again returned to russia, and once again went back to the kaufman community. her feeling for dogs and animals in general was becoming more and more pronounced--thanks in part to her close association with tibi. in one of her letters to her aunt susie written in , she writes: st. petersburg . "i do not love humanity in the mass. i don't admire it. i feel sorry for the unenlightened and suffering but i think there are only a few in the world who 'vindicate,' as uncle herbert says, their right to exist. if there was for one moment in my heart what i feel for dogs, cats, horses and animals in general, i would be a real sister of charity. it is a perfectly distinct expansion and impulse and a real longing to help and joy in it that i do not feel in the face of suffering humanity. you can explain it any way. if all these crippled numberless that i have seen all these days had been maimed dogs, i don't know what i would have done. there is something in human nature that is so contemptible and poor that i can't feel the same way." st. petersburg . "how can you keep your faith in humanity? i think it is all so weak and not beautiful, and life as it goes somehow such an outrageous fizzle. why are there such beautiful things, conceptions, possibilities only to be ruined by fatal microbes this human nature puts into it? life only in yearning; death to crown realization; peace only in oblivion. what for? and even the power of renounciation has to be fought for." she was working at that time in the kaufman community but was to go to montenegro for a hospital reorganization. this did not come about. she wrote: st. petersburg . "i am undergoing the greatest disappointment at this moment. i was to be sent to montenegro to establish a red cross sisterhood and overhaul the hospital, and to be given five sisters to take with me i as the head--so interesting--and in the part of the world which has always attracted me to the utmost, ever since i was in sofia. and after it was all arranged and i was simply reveling in every detail, baroness ixkull decided that it was simply impossible to take tibi." st. petersburg . "one doesn't love anything any more, religion, country, art. the only thing is to have one's interest outside of oneself--and to be very busy. i can hardly believe, at least i wonder, at myself being able to do so many things i dislike--getting up every day so early, no walks with tibi, sleeping between five and six hours, often only four, and yet i enjoy everything--ice cream is a festival, a moment to sew a treat, and bed heaven." "but oh, all these sick people--so depressing and gives one such an impression of superfluity of the human species. everything, everything so beautiful except humanity--and not only man himself--dirty and unenchanting--but the instrument of hideousness all around." again nelka was showing the restlessness because of the attachments to the two sides of the ocean--russia and america--and the impossibility to satisfy entirely one or the other, or both. from russia she wrote: st. petersburg . "i wish i could be in america and eliminate from my personal horizon the people and things which make me boil over in spite of myself. dear poodie, i wish you could really know what i feel and mean. i think if in recent years you had been in contact with the peace and simplicity of europe in general, you would see what makes me shrivel with most americans, because i am not above and beyond it as you are. america may stand for freedom, but it has an unimancipated soul and there is a perpetual affectation, a caution, a suspicion, a lack of independence that does simply petrify life and crush feeling. you may say it is a small world, i don't know, but it is everywhere i meet." st. petersburg . "i have at last decided that my life must remain unsettled, undecided; it is too late to settle it except by sheer will, and that is too stupid. real ties exist in different centers--one must obey both; it is utterly indifferent to me what external aspect my life takes, because it is also too late." (she was then years old) st. petersburg . "i hope to be in america at intervals and often. you and pats are more to me than anything else and i have the greatest love for poodihaven (cazenovia), but i cannot associate with outsiders sufficiently to fill my life. i want to beat them all and i don't want to hear them talk." at this time, i think, she was going through a very difficult period of uncertainty in her life, which is reflected in her letters written at that time: "if i did not care for americans and if i did not have a great deal of sentiment and associations, ties and memories in america, it would be so easy to leave it alone and not think about it. but i know i am both. i know how strongly attached i am to both sides and i only deplore the difference among people in the world. but when i think of even those others that i care for, i know that we are strangers. my heart does not beat with any puritanical sentiment--so there. if i am attracted to some puritanical offspring--some representative of the progressing (?) new world, it is like being in love with a marble statue." "i don't know why i write all this, but how impossible life is. i think it really is a most devilish arrangement. no peace except in utter renounciation. and must one struggle through a peppery sequence of years just to know this?" "baroness ixkull is going to give me perfectly new sisters to train and i am going to make them march like pokers, copy every record each time they make a spot and count all the linen every two weeks. as they will not have been in any other ward, they cannot make any comparisons or complain." "i know, poodie, that you would like some things here very much--the simplicity of everything and the independence of people. i think it is only possible with a recognized aristocracy when people do not have to explain themselves and are established. i have met a few such nice people, of course to hardly know them, but one feels one knows them at once because there is a recognition of being of one world and one knows beforehand that one shares the same feelings towards most things. for instance, they may not know me personally but the fact that papa was in the service, was gentillomme de la chambre (court title), was educated at the lycee, defines a type, defines in a certain manner his daughter, if only externally. then knowing that mama was american, the whole thing is clear in a natural way. my wanting to be here is understood--my attachment to america is understood." st. petersburg . "my life here is so full in one sense that it seems much more than a few months since i was in america. life seems very, very short in comparison with the wide conception of possibilities which gives the zest to youth. everything seems so partial and the total is so hard to realize. to keep tranquility with the increase of perception and understanding means renounciation as far as i can see. it must be a great privilege to work and pursue one's greatest convictions--to act what one feels sure of--this is in many ways adjustment to circumstances. please god that there may be some good in it." "the spirit is everything--nothing else matters. i can never leave the ward on their hands (new sisters) and i mean every day from until at night and often part of the night, if it is very serious. i am very well, sleep little, eat little and am flourishing." so after this additional stage in russia at the community, nelka returned once again to america, but not for very long. early in she was again getting ready to go back to europe. writing from ashantee in she said: "i know it is unrest--i know it all--yet the true picture is that of going thousands of miles to where i am not needed, and leaving my two best friends. i long for the work and can't wait. between now and it, just think what bumps and jolts and frights and moans. oh, what is it all about?" nelka spent that winter with her aunt martha in washington. it had been a winter entirely filled with social activities--balls, dinners, the white house, the embassies--and nelka could not stand it any longer and was seeking some contrast. she certainly achieved the contrast all right, for as soon as she returned to russia she was sent to the outskirts of the oural mountains. in that region a famine had been quite severe and the government sent out feeding stations and red cross units to take care of the stricken people. sisters were established in different villages, sometimes entirely isolated, where they issued provisions and gave medical care to the peasants. nelka spent a whole winter in one of these villages, living in a one-room hut with a peasant family and sleeping on a wooden bench. what a contrast after the social life of washington! here is a descriptive letter written from kalakshinovka, district of samara, in : "i am in a desert of snow, in quiet and peace, and feeding three villages. i lie on my bed which consists of two wooden benches side by side--one a little higher than the other. only thing is that it is almost inaccessible. even with the snow it is more roily and bumpy than the worst sea ever dreamed of being, and all one can do is to lie with one's eyes closed on some straw in the kind of low sleigh that bumps along hour after hour over these steppes. i first went to sapieva, a tartar village in the district of bougulma. now i am settled and hope to stay here. i was busy last night late giving out provisions and weighing flour and today i have been trying to straighten out grievances and see that all receive justly--sometimes very complicated. some brother of the official writer of the village, quarreled with the son of a poor woman when that woman's cow came too near his premises, and he made his son beat her off. my position in the matter is whatever the pro's and con's--how dare anyone hurt a poor famished cow and i am settling it on that line." "i don't know what i would not do to feed all the poor cows and horses and sheep that are left. a number of friends in petersburg gave me some money to distribute--a little over a hundred dollars. i gave about in sapieva and the rest i am going to use to save the animals. aside from my pity for them, it will be terrible for the peasants not to have a horse to work in the fields as soon as the warm weather comes. where will they be next year? i can help at least two or three families. one poor woman when i bought some feed for her horse and cow simply fell on her knees on the ground. poodie, really how far people live from each other and how little one can dream of this life if one has not been in it. perhaps other people understand things more or realize more, but with all i have seen and heard and read, that is simply being born to something entirely unknown--besides all the feelings one experiences oneself in being thus shut off from everything. i have at last attained my own bowl and spoon. i drink coffee and eat a piece of black bread in the morning. at a bowl of buckwheat or some kind of grain with a wooden spoon--a glass of tea and at night a glass of cocoa and black bread, or as a treat a dish of sour milk. i cook and iron and do everything myself, but it is very simple." "this is part of 'little russia' and is much cleaner than 'great russia.' i brought with me a few fleas from great russia and have the greatest sympathy for tibi for the time she was exposed to flea companionship. how they bite and jump." "the tartars were so clean--the very poorest and none of the disorder that one sees in great russia. there is something absolutely distinctive about the tartars and one feels a certain civilization and settledness that is different from all the other villages i have seen. did i tell you how we all slept in a row with the old tartar and his wife and child?" "though i was doing my best to master the tartar tongue, i can converse more readily here. the little russian dialect is very different from russian but one can get a long. the red cross will probably be stationed here throughout the famine--until the 'new bread,' that is about the end of july--but baroness ixkull promised to replace me as soon as she could get another sister. i hope to get back to america in july." kalakshinovka . "a peasant walked in today and brought me a present--an apple about the size of a plum. i wanted to keep it until easter but we consulted and decided it would dry up, so i ate it. it is getting late-- o'clock and the candle is burning low." kalakshinovka . "the days have fallen into a routine. i distribute provisions, go to see the peasants and they come to see me--sew, mend, scrape mud off of boots and at last have a little time to write a few letters. in about a week i hope to go to alekseievka, a village about miles off, which is quite a center. there is a fair there every week and i shall buy some sugar and a little white flour and perhaps if it can be found, a piece of ham. i am getting awfully hungry. people will never get anywhere while taste is undeveloped and perception so dull and imagination so weak. i don't think all people can be taught to understand, but i do believe that the eye can be trained and the imagination led into paths which will make them revolt from ugliness, and that is a tremendous step towards salvation. it seems to me that 'conditional immortality' is the only possible and plausible doctrine. so much of humanity, whatever it looks like or however cannily it has devised to exist, has not begun, and why have such a respect for numbers? i should like to weed out acquaintances just as i attack occasionally the linen closet--with fire, and have a chance to breathe. it is all the unborn who sit around and choke the atmosphere." kalakshinovka . "all the horror of the famine is being realized right now. i will not write you about it for it is too terrible and heartbreaking--it is the horses, camels, cows and sheep--worst of all the horses. i will never forget yesterday as long as i live. i cried all day, i could not sleep all night. it is simply horrible. i have never so much realized the problem of existence as here. everything is so foreign and so striking, one is simply faced by the question of how to live and to what end. what i feel more strongly than anything is that the product of the best education and civilization should be good and zealous--more near the saint--than that the masses should read or write. i have faith enough that all will attain in the end if the type that leads is worthwhile, but the type that leads is not." kalaskshinovka . "i have a whole little house now. the owner comes and cleans up; i bolt my door and i have a place to keep provisions for almost people. the whole thing is just as interesting as it can be. i went not long ago to a village of bashkirs to verify scorbutous and typhoid--about miles from here; it is strange how entirely different they are. the tartars seem the most settled and grown up and independent, and the little russians have more traditions. the great russians are more individual and less distinctive. you can't imagine the nice feeling of riding right out over the steppes, no fuss, no get up, with a purpose. the feeling that at the same time with the wild freedom of it that one is accomplishing something and working. i can't wait to see you. when i get my tibi and start again across the seas, i shall be even glad to see that awful liberty lady!" kalaskshinovka . "your letter enclosing pata's and the picture of lutie was the reward of a walk of six to seven miles with a ton of mud on each boot, a night on the floor and a return at dawn on a rickety horse horseback. everything is flourishing here, plenty of occasion for meditation and consideration. i enjoy tremendously the peasants' bath house. one can climb higher and higher and lie on shelves in different stages of heat. i got so steamed up i wanted at one moment to open the door and just fly out into the field without a stitch. when i look out on the plains here and then think of new york and the subway, my brain simply stops. this is about as small and poor a village as exists, yet there is a teacher and all the younger generation read and write, and the tartars are really wise owls. i have no more desire to go to persia. i am afraid that country is done for. i think arizona is as safe as anywhere if they don't irrigate. still those mission teachers are a pest. there is something fundamentally wrong with everything i know!" hardly had this episode of the famine finished, that the red cross sent units to belgorod in the ukrania where there was a great concentration of pilgrims for the canonization of st. josephat. the government once again set up feeding stations and hospital units to take care of the sick and aged and all emergencies arising from the concentration of many thousands of pilgrims. once again nelka was there and it was of great interest to her. during all of these absences nelka kept her little dog tibi either with us in the country or with friends in kasan, the krapotkins. she went to pick up tibi in kasan from where she wrote in . "i caught some horrible microbe just before i arrived and had a terrible grippy cold which kept me in the house and in bed--but it is over now. i feel rejuvenated years and full of energy. i almost believe it is climatic. the feeling is so different. isn't it awful about the priest being hung in adrianople? i don't see how the whole of europe doesn't stand together to drive the turks out of christian countries." (this was written just before the start of the balkan war.) nelka returned to st. petersburg and made preparations to leave for the balkans. the russian red cross was sending out units to the bulgarian army. after returning from kasan, nelka stayed for a while at my mother's place in the country. this was a time when i was preparing for my entry examinations to the lycee and she wrote about that to her aunt, who was interested in everything pertaining to education. writing from poustinka (our country estate) in : "i am very much hopped up and stirred up and feel very full of life. i had a very pleasant short stay in kasan. enjoyed seeing people very much--so much youth i have not seen for ages--young people, young officers, young marriages, and then such delightful old people. the young officers were just simply waiting for mobilization. about war, everything is most uncertain. half the people say it will be immediately, the other half that it will be avoided--no one can tell anything. i am going to adrianople tuesday. baroness ixkull is there with a large division and i think that just now there will be more to do than ever. i go first to sofia." "yesterday i went with veta (my mother) and max to town. we came back in the evening and after dinner i had a most delicious sleep on the sofa by the fire--max waking me up every few minutes." "this afternoon i had a fine nap and then gave max an english dictation. he is preparing for his examinations for the lycee. really it seems a great deal. besides all the usual subjects, he has to take grammar and composition in russian, latin, german, french, and english. ancient history, european history and russian history separately, besides religion. an awful lot, and all the other things. none of the languages are optional and in two years he has to be examined in the literature of each." "he is such a nice boy, years, so boyish and yet so developed and such a lot of casual culture, just from association with cultured people--and yet a real country boy, loving the affairs of the estate and everything to do with the place, and full of fun and mischief. i am all for education at home until the final years for boys, and altogether for girls--i think it is more developing." after this stay with us, she left for sofia and the war. sofia . "general tirtoff sent me a 'laisser passee' and a certificate so that i can't be taken prisoner, and i expect to arrive to where we have the tents in or days. general tirtoff, under whose orders i am, proposed yesterday to send me as head of a hospital which is now stationed in servia, but which has to be sent to duratzo where there has been a big battle. it will be a tremendous lot of transportation and, though very interesting, i don't know if i should like it as much as a small field hospital like adrianople. any way it all depends on what happens at adrianople." sofia . "i have just come from the queen. she was ill and could not receive me before. she was very, very nice--much nicer than i expected and better looking than her pictures. it is now a.m., and i am to get up at six." nelka joined the division of sisters at adrianople and took part in the fighting to take that city. this probably was much the most difficult and dangerous time she ever encountered. they were working in the very front lines, in the mud and dirt and under heavy shell fire. at one time when the shells were falling both in front and behind their tents, and it was impossible to move the wounded, nelka realized that perhaps she would not come out alive. she wrote several short goodbye notes, one of which was written to my mother, which i reproduce here. i am grateful to think that at that critical moment she remembered me. kara youssouff. february . "dearest veta: we are under fire--the projectiles are going over our heads, one just fell on the other side of our tents, and the ground is torn up before our eyes. perhaps we may miraculously escape--if not, goodbye. perhaps some one may pick this up and send it. i send you much, much love--give my love to my friends in petersburg, it is terrible for the poor wounded. love to max. nelka." here is a letter from aunt susie blow to nelka in : "nothing i can say suggests what i feel. the picture of you with those awful bombs bursting above you, before you, to right and left of you and the other picture of you plunging knee deep in mud and battling with mud and rain, as you made your way from tent to tent will never leave me. and what pictures of horror must move in ghastly procession in your mind. you have always wanted first hand experience. now you have had such experience of famine, of war, of religious enthusiasm, of patriotic devotion. how will it all affect the necessary routine of life?" sofia . "i know i have written since the fall of adrianople and i think i sent you a word from there. did i tell you that the consulate was in several places shattered by shells? what i noticed the most was the air of proprietorship of the soldiers in the town and how one felt the immediate transformation of the turkish town into a bulgarian one." sofia . "i do not know what i think about the turks. i only know that i abhor the 'young turks' (political party). in general i suppose they are more civilized than the bulgars. i do not care for them as a nation, but i wish nevertheless that the war would continue until they get to the very door of constantinople. about occupying the city itself i do not know, because it is so complicated. of course i wish it might belong to one of the balkan states and i simply can't endure the mixing in of 'powers.' powers--by what i would like to know, except size and force alone. i wish they would fight it out and take constantinople and be done with it and the whole balkan peninsula as well. i hate threats and tyranny based on the power to destroy if they want. either gobble it up or leave it alone, but not dictate!!!" "it is very strange, but it seems to me that everything that makes for terrestrial power makes for spiritual defeat." "i am crazy to go to tchatalja but a definite attack does not seem imminent." "i am well and, as result of feeding on air and no sleep, had to move the buttons of my apron which had become tight. i can speak quite a little bulgarian." "i understand fully what is meant by 'a la guerre, comme a la guerre.' it is extraordinary how every preconceived notion and habit is thrown to the winds. i like it very much. everyone acts as the immediate occasion seems to necessitate and it is so much more simple. everything is changed and i see that it is just so everywhere in time of war because one thing is so very much more important than all the rest. it is when nothing is supremely important that life is simply impossible and that you are baffled at every step." "it was terrible in many ways. those first days at kara youssouff, but i feel it was the greatest privilege to be there. one felt helpless before such a demand but it was all so real and every breath meant so much." once finished with the balkan war, nelka returned to america and joined her aunts. before leaving she spent several days with my mother and me in our country place. after she left my mother wrote to nelka: "max and i miss you very much. i was so happy to have you with us for a time; your visits are always so nice and cheerful. i always remember them with so much pleasure. we had a long talk with max about you and decided you were a real friend for us and max said: 'we must always be real friends to her.' he is very fond of you." (i was then years old and very much in love with nelka.) once finished with the balkan war, nelka returned again to america and joined her aunt martha in washington. she brought tibi back with her and here a tragic event took place which had a decisive influence on both nelka's and my life. while in washington tibi somehow got hold of rat poison and despite the help of the best veterinarian and also the help of two human doctors who were friends of nelka, tibi died. nelka took the death of her mother in a most tragic and painful way, but the death of tibi affected her to a much greater degree. her grief was beyond all comprehension and she went into a state of utter despair, verging on the frantic. her aunt susie and a few friends tried to help her as much as they could but absolutely nothing seemed to help. just before she had left russia, princess wasilchikoff had asked her to assume the reorganization of a sister community and hospital in kovno, a fortress-town near the german border. nelka did not accept the offer though it was of considerable interest to her, because she was then returning to america and had plans to stay with her aunts. but when her little dog died, she quickly changed her mind and telegraphed princess wasilchikoff that she was ready to accept her proposition. this she did primarily to try and get her mind focused on something and to get it off the brooding about tibi. her grief and despair can be judged from the various letters which she wrote to her aunt at that time, and for a long time to come. ashantee . "if that cannot be done i want to be buried in unconsecrated ground with tibi and shall arrange for it. i cannot leave tibi where she is buried and not know what will happen later." "i hope when i die to know that it will be alright but i cannot get any nearer to being reconciled now, and it just comes over me with a fresh feeling all the time, that i cannot accept it. i have never felt so about anything. i am glad that you miss darling little tibi. i feel estranged from everyone except those who knew and cared for tibi." during her trip back to europe, she wrote from rotterdam . "it just seems some times more than i can bear. i don't know how to get reconciled--that is the worst. i don't accept it and i have an outraged sense all the time of the fearful crime to that happy little life, and so many constant torments come up afresh all the time, that i just feel crazy. i tried to face it all and wear it out of my head in the beginning, but that did not work and now this willful keeping from thinking as much as i can does not help either. why couldn't anything have happened to me that would not have hurt tibi? i suffer because that little face is just always before me. if i could just have her for an hour and know that she was all right, i would die the happiest person in the world." paris . "i can't keep up my spirits all the time. i am terribly tired, look a perfect sight, but i don't care. paris has not changed much. it will always be the most beautiful city in the world, i think, and the most civilized. church was such a delight this morning. i like this paris one better than anyone i know, but it all now seems simply a past and i know it will always be so." poustinka . "it seems to me almost superfluous to comment any more on the sadness and pain of what occurred--it is also just more and more and everywhere. the more one sees of life, the more frightened one is of being happy. i think life is just totally and absolutely inexplicable." "veta has got a little apartment opposite the lycee and max hopes to get in january. i am giving him english dictations and he is studying all day. veta thinks of nothing else and wants to get him safely married at , which she thinks is the best thing for russian men." well, i was safely married at but not with the approval of my mother who opposed my marriage to nelka because of our age difference. poustinka . "i have not yet seen about the cemetery here but i think i will arrange to be buried there if it is allowed, or else to find some piece of land somewhere. i just hope, hope, hope in something beyond as i never have before. i simply can't stand the injustice of tibi, of her death and i can never get reconciled to it for a minute." and a year later she wrote from kovno in : "the approach of this anniversary has been taking me, despite of myself, over every minute of those dreadful, dreadful days a year ago. i don't want to speak of it all to you or make you feel any more than i have already the weight of a grief that will never leave me--but i do want to tell you that i shall also never forget how good you were to me and how you helped me through that simply fearful night. i don't know how anything could be any worse but still if you had not been there i don't know what i would have done--and i shall always remember and be glad that tibi died not far from you." i think unquestionably the loss of tibi was the greatest suffering that nelka ever experienced in her life, even though the loss of her mother and of her aunts was a great shock each time and deep grief which held on for a long time. but there was something about the death of this little dog which hurt nelka more than anything else. while in later years she never hardly spoke about it, i think the pain always remained. nelka was a great believer in 'circumstances' in life. the death of tibi was a 'circumstance' which affected nelka's life and mine as well. had tibi not died as she did then, nelka would not have returned that year to russia. by returning to russia in and then the war breaking out the next year, she was prevented from returning to america and thus never again saw her aunt susie, who died without her in , while nelka was at the front. she then stayed on through the war and then the revolution, and we were married in . had tibi not died, all the conditions would have been different and very likely we would not have been married, at least this is possible. i think both she and i have been believers in 'circumstances.' i know that i am. circumstances which affect all our life. sometimes one small event, something so insignificant that it is hardly noticed, can bring about a chain of events which entirely and basically change the whole course of one's life. this is what i think the death of tibi did to the lives of both nelka and me. when nelka came back to russia in she undertook the reorganization job offered by princess wasilchikoff. nelka felt it would help her forget and would act as a relief valve for her feelings. princess wasilchikoff offered nelka complete freedom and independence of action and decision in all concerning the sister community and the hospital. she could act and do as she wished and desired. so nelka agreed with the stipulation that she would undertake this job for one year, and having made her arrangements left for kovno. the whole picture of the kovno enterprise is very vividly seen from a number of letters written by nelka during . kovno . "i think life is a great mystery and thus far renounciation seems to me the only achievement." kovno . "kovno is a little different from what i expected. it is much more of a hospital than i thought but it is to be completely made over. it is now for beds and a separate house for eye illnesses with two wards in it. there are sisters and servants." "two hours after i arrived i attacked their hair (the sisters), and now it is as flat as paper on the wall. i also berated a doctor within the first hours for not appearing for his lecture. i thought i better acquire the habit of discipline at once for the position is rather appalling and i am trying my best to impose terror. when i feel the terror getting rooted, i will try for a little affection and good will." "i am now racking my brains how to get dresses and aprons made by easter and keep within the limit for cost." "i am preparing different and complete charts for all the wards and a laboratory is to be opened in a month. the planning is not the most difficult; it is arranging things within given conditions and in a certain sense in a margin, and appeasing demands and complaints from all sides. the new division of the work was very complicated, too. in one ward, every sister, who was ordered to it either wept, flatly refused or prepared to lose everything and leave on account of the nature of the sister at the head of it. of course i had to insist on acceptance of the distribution of service, on principle, but i am glad to have found good reason to get rid of the said sister, in time. finally the young sister who has to go there now, and who reiterated for days that she would rather wash dishes for the rest of her days than go there, after a frank talk of half an hour, said she would, and that i wouldn't hear another word from her. i was reduced to real tears of gratitude and admiration for the effort." kovno . "my head i know is not as strong and clear as it was." "i have a very nice room which is in the most immaculate order imaginable--i am never in it. next to it i have what is called my 'chancellery' which has an immense big writing table, another table, three chairs, bells and excellent light and telephone. i spend most of the time in it when i am not going the rounds on a rampage. i like to know that my food costs only cents a day." during some time in i was very ill in petersburg. my mother was at the same time in bed with the flu and unable to take care of me, so in desperation she telegraphed to nelka in kovno and nelka arrived immediately. kovno . "i spent three days in petersburg, arriving there finding both veta and max very ill. max with fever of or more. max had all kinds of complications afterwards ending in an abscess in the ear. i looked after him for three days and nights and then veta got up." kovno . "every day i live the more insoluble everything seems and the more convinced i am of the insolubility of everything. there are lovely things and tracks in life and humanity, but as a whole the latter is so loathsome and life so sad and dreadful. i feel a terrible fatigue of life and it seems to me that all my energy is simply restless, except the energy to denounce. if i live a hundred years ten times over i think my feeling of indignation for some things will never diminish." always still feeling the loss of tibi, nelka did not seem to be able to get reconciled. she wrote to her aunt: kovno . "i have just the interest of having begun the thing and wishing to see it permanently established, as i have started it, but at bottom i don't care what happens to anything, and i am only thankful i have had my thoughts arrested momentarily. i had no right to complain of anything or wish for anything as long as tibi was alive, and what torments me most is not my grief but that tibi should have suffered. i don't understand anything and i only live in hope and helplessness. i can bear the grief of tibi's death but i cannot get reconciled to the conditions of it." during that winter my mother moved from the country where we were living to petersburg, and nelka happened to be with us when this took place and took part in the moving. here is some of the description of the event: kovno . "we followed the next day with a dog and a cat. veta, max and i with all the baggage, a parrot 'tommy' and two small birds in separate cages. i tried to look out for all three and froze my fingers off holding one cage and another that i wrapped up in my shawl. and so we started off in immediate danger of upsetting every minute. a day or two before the sleigh with veta and max and her sister-in-law and the driver upset completely in a ditch, horse on his back and toes in the air." "max's examinations were to be in two days so of course we tried to beat him into a cold corner to study in the midst of the confusion." "of course i took a sympathetic part in all this and did my share by scolding max almost unremittantly from morning till night. he is a very bright and attractive boy, but easy going." (exactly four years later nelka married the "easy going boy.") kovno . "i would give anything to spend a few hours with you and see how you are and have a nice talk. you don't know how much i realize what a rock you are of effective support and comprehension." (nelka never again saw her aunt who died in while nelka was at the front.) kovno . "i ought never to move from cazenovia if i had any character. i shall have learned a lot of things when i die--and all for what?" kovno . "i suppose i shall die a hopeless procrastinator but if i make small progress i also have no peace. it torments me dreadfully to have things undone. i wish i had passed beyond this world, in my soul." kovno . "i realize tremendously how an institution of this kind depends on the managing head. so much has to be looked after and such constant questions come up that no system or plan suffices by itself. it is very hard to get things done quickly without being somewhat impetuous and one cannot preserve control over everything without a great deal of calm. i think more than ever that institutional life is perfectly anti-human. it cannot be run without a certain amount of injustice--that is the innocent suffering for the guilty, that is if one attempts to have rules. it would be far more just to have no rules and exact of each one according to my own judgment. i think that regulations are only made in support of idiotic administrations." kovno . "max wrote me such a nice, vivid letter." "politics are certainly very interesting now. i feel dreadfully sorry for servia and i hope if there is war with austria that the last servian will die on the battlefield." in may, june and early july of , nelka was writing to her aunt susie about her plans of returning to america. finally she had made arrangements to sail the first week of august. but then the war broke out and she never got off. kovno . "i have written to the russian line and got special permission to sail from copenhagen. if nothing unforeseen happens, i will leave here on the th of august for stockholm. i had hardly finished this when the town was put under martial law. everything is upside down. the inhabitants are all ordered to leave. the bank is packing up, people streaming all day there. everyone ordered off the streets at night. the streets are occupied with soldiers and cannons moving to the front, and the aspect seems serious. no one can tell anything. i have already signed a paper not to leave without the permission of the fort. if we have war i am ready to stay to the end. i have the greatest sympathy for servia and would like to work in the red cross there if not here. i shall try to write you again before being shut up for good, if the town is besieged. we are only a few hours from the frontier." kovno . "since last night the town is under martial law. everything is upside down. cannons hustling to the front. cavalry going off. all the inhabitants are ordered to leave. we are in the very seat of war. if we have war i am ready to stay to the end if need be. i only hope you won't feel too terribly uneasy. the lack of communications will be the worst. i feel great sympathy for servia and hope this war will help them. all the big buildings are to be turned into hospitals. the new bank will be splendid--tile floors and water. it can hold at least a thousand, i think. all kinds of specimens are turning up to be enrolled as sisters, but i am relentless and shall take no adventuresses if i can help it." kovno . "i am glad it is for servia, but o what a horror. i had none of this impression at adrianople--the panic of a whole town before the war. mobilization was begun last night, but the inhabitants were ordered to leave six days ago. i cannot describe it. it is just everything that one has ever read about war and a great deal besides. i am glad i have a good lot of sisters. i hope they will all do their duty. communication will be cut off any minute. i shall be so anxious about my family if we are shut up for long. well, goodbye. i pray for the best. one must be ready for anything." kovno . "everything is cut off from europe and i am dreadfully worried and unhappy to have no news from you and all the family. the whole fortress was put in a state of defense in no time, and the whole town has been ordered out from one station. you can't imagine the scenes. prince wasilchikoff has helped me very much in the place of his wife who had to go to petersburg, and now he is going to join his regiment. i hope he can take this letter to send through sweden. my consolation is that the war was started in behalf of servia--it alleviates the horror of all that is going on. prince wasilchikoff came in for a moment and said that the political situation was very good and that england has declared war. everyone is going to the war with enthusiasm. don't worry too much. this section of the army will not give in till the last. the commander grigorieff is splendid and general rennenkamph is a real fighting man. i have sisters ready in kovno. my heart and head are full of anxiety and love for you, for you all. i may be able to get letters to you still, but if not, look out for tibi's little grave whatever happens." the absorbing work in kovno, the excitement and the patriotic fervor were all beneficial to nelka's state of mind in that it took it off her constant thinking about the death of her little dog. while nelka had her own sisters and hospital, the army decided to consolidate the services under their jurisdiction and turned their own army sisters over to nelka and she found herself at the head of some sisters. this was a large complicated administrative job but she handled it with great efficiency. most of the time the fortress was under fire and it soon became obvious that it would not hold out. the commanding general did not prove to be as good and efficient as nelka supposed and he also lost his nerve. under the increasing pressure of the germans, he ordered the complete evacuation of the fortress, of the troops and material, while this was still possible. however, this was accomplished in a very poor manner and the commander himself left the fortress hours before nelka did. he also lost a great deal of his equipment. nelka in turn completed a full evacuation of her whole hospital and saved all of her material. everything in the hospital building which could not be moved was destroyed and she went even that far to have all brass knobs removed from the doors and thrown into the river so that the germans would not get the metal. so kovno fell, but the war went on and nelka's hospital was reestablished some or miles to the rear as a rear unit taking care of the evacuated wounded. they were settled in a large agricultural school building in very fine surroundings. i managed to visit nelka at that hospital for a few days. soon, however, the fighting resumed and the germans resumed their advance. the hospital once again had to be moved. at that moment nelka came down with a very severe case of scarlet fever. the doctor said that she could not be moved, just as the hospital was getting under way. the head doctor had her arranged in bed in a tent, leaving her one nurse. at the last moment when leaving, he slipped a revolver under her pillow! but nelka recovered. the germans did not reach that point and ultimately she was able to rejoin her unit. soon after that she was sent to the rear to a town called novgorod, to organize a new unit. there she spent most of the winter and once again i managed to visit her there, as it was not very far from petersburg. all during the war, at different intervals, nelka came back to petersburg, mostly for just a few days and because of some business for her hospital or unit. each time when she came to petersburg she stayed at my mother's and thus i was able to see her occasionally. the impression she had made on me when i first saw her as a small boy never changed. the only difference was that growing up i came more and more under her spell and was more and more deeply attached and devoted to her. i was then years old and very much in love with her. but she was fully grown and i was but a boy yet, so that any hopes would seem rather futile for me. futile because of the difference of age and because i could hardly expect that she could be interested in me. also because of her great charm and personality she always had great success with men everywhere and it was more than possible that some fortunate man would be able to win her. both in russia and in america and also while she was in bulgaria and in paris she had a great number of admirers and had over thirty proposals from men of different nationalities. she even had a japanese suitor. but she never was interested in any of these suitors and once told my mother that she would never marry unless she had a complete and all consuming feeling for the man she chose. but for the moment the war was on and everyone had other thoughts and jobs on hand than romance. but i was growing up and so was my feelings for her. every time nelka would come to petersburg, i would see her off to the train, taking her back to the front. on one such an occasion i gave her a box of white cream caramels. it was nothing, but for some reason or other it touched her very much and she always said that to her it was measure of my devotion. on these departures to the front, she was always in a hurry--having so much to do and attend to. on these occasions the determination of her character manifested itself at different times. once she failed to secure the necessary permit to board a train going to the front--there just wasn't the time for it. at the entrance to the platforms armed guards stood and one had to show one's pass to get through. i warned nelka that she probably would have trouble, but she said there was no time for this now and that she would find a way to get through. of course we arrived just about the time the train was pulling out and dashed towards the platform. a soldier stood at the entrance with his rifle and when nelka plunged headlong towards him, he thrust his rifle horizontally in front of her to stop her. without a moments hesitation she ducked low and slipped under the extended rifle, and was on the moving train before the sentry knew what it was all about! on another occasion we arrived at the station just a little too late, even though she had her pass. when we dashed out on the platform we just could see the two receding red lights of the departing train. to this day i do not know what happened, but nelka raised such fireworks that that train backed into the station. nelka got on and the train pulled out again! i have often said that it took courage to be in love with a woman of such determination! after her winter in novgorod, nelka decided to form and organize a unit of her own to serve with the cavalry. she proceeded to raise the necessary money and to select the personnel. as the head of the unit she chose my uncle, my mother's brother, and as assistant a friend of his. she also chose some of the doctors she knew in kovno as well as some of the sisters. the regular men orderlies and the horses were being supplied by the red cross. this unit was attached to the first guard cavalry division. the doctors, the orderlies, the nurses were all on horseback; the stretchers for the wounded likewise were on long poles between two horses. when the whole unit was strung out indian file it was a very long unit. once attached to the cavalry division, the unit moved right along with it. often this was very rough going. often they would be called out at night, had to saddle and be on the move. nelka rode a horse named 'vive la france.' if they were to move any distance they were loaded into trains. she always remembered a dark autumn night unloading the horses from the train in the dark, in the woods, and right next to the position of artillery batteries, firing steadily--the difficulty of controlling and trying to keep the horses reasonably quiet. she had a great deal of trouble with her frightened horse, trembling and scared, because of the noise and flashing guns. the fighting was going on a short distance ahead and hardly had they unloaded as the wounded started to be brought in. they worked on them in muddy dugouts. between moments of respite nelka would run out into the dark and try to soothe her horse which was tied in the woods. the guns kept on firing all night. this was the kind of life which went on. in july my uncle, the head of the unit, was killed by shell fire, at a moment of some very heavy fighting. the work they were carrying on was right near the firing lines. at one time, during nelka came for a few days to our country estate and one day i went with her to petrograd. there she received a letter from her aunt martha wadsworth. i was coming back to the country with nelka on the train. she had the letter in her hand but would not open it for she said she felt it was bad news and she was afraid. she had a premonition of something wrong. we traveled all the way in silence and i could see how very anxious and upset she was. feeling as i did for her, it was painful for me to see her in that state but there was nothing i could do. she did not open the letter until we reached home and she went alone into her room. it was what she had expected--the news that her beloved aunt susie blow had died in new york. another terrible, painful shock, nelka took it in a very hard way but with great calm and fortitude. she felt that she had failed her aunt, that she should have been with her, instead of at the war. she blames herself. she felt that being at the war was a form of selfishness of self-indulgence, when her duty should have been to remain with her aunt. once again a tragic and very hard blow, a blow so hard to accept because of her special devotion to that aunt. but the war was on--she could not even indulge in her sorrow and she had to return to the front. fighting was heavy that summer and her cavalry division was engaged and on the move. the unit was always up front, close to the fighting lines and the work was hard. that summer i entered officers training school and did not see nelka for a very long time. on the first of february , i received my commission as second lieutenant in the first infantry guard regiment. this was the last promotion done by the emperor. i was assigned to the reserve battalion stationed in petrograd. less than a month later the revolution broke out and i had a week of street fighting. then chaos ensued. through most of the summer of , i was at the front in galicia. nelka was somewhere at the front near the rumanian border. we did not know where each of us was and had no communications. gradually the discipline in the army, under the impact of the revolution, broke down and the front started to disintegrate. while my regiment was coming apart on the galician front, nelka's unit was doing the same on the rumanian border. some time towards the end of the summer the remnants of her unit were in rumania and finally came apart. she was left with but a few sisters and her assistant chief, a friend of hers, a finnish gentleman, baron wrede. at a certain moment she sent him with some of the personnel and equipment from rumania over the border back into russia. however, she herself remained behind to take care of the local priest who was desperately ill. a few days later, the priest died and she was ready to follow the unit back over the border. just before leaving she found and picked up a poor, small abandoned kitten. tying the kitten up in her shawl and hanging it from her neck, she rode away from rumania back to russia. one soldier was riding back with her. at night time they arrived at a small village and for some reason or other, the soldier disappeared. after waiting for a while, there was nothing to do but to continue. and so in the night, nelka rode alone through the woods and over the mountains over the border from rumania into russia. a woman, riding alone, in the night in the midst of the revolution! she rode all night, the kitten dangling in front of her. by morning she reached a russian village and soon located the unit. she said she would never forget that ride in the night. the next day the lost soldier turned up very much upset at having lost her on the way. the revolution was taking its toll and everything was rapidly coming apart, disintegrating and in a state of anarchy. there was no choice but to drop everything and try to get back to petrograd if possible. but this was not easy to do. everything was in complete turmoil, no regular train service and the revolutionary soldiers in complete control of everything. the greatest danger was for the finnish baron who as an officer was in danger from the soldiers. so a stratagem had to be invented. nelka went and declared that the baron was desperately ill and had to be sent to petrograd without delay, and that for that she needed a special permit. this she managed to secure and was assigned a compartment in the overfilled train. the perfectly healthy baron was brought in and arranged lying down all the trip of several days, while nelka had to take care of him, bring him food and look after the 'invalide.' he said afterwards that he had a 'very pleasant trip.' while lying in his berth he kept with him the kitten. finally they arrived in petrograd. the baron then returned to finland taking with him the kitten where it lived on their estate to a ripe old age. nelka, upon her arrival, stopped as usual at my mother's. soon after that i returned from the front. now we were all together once more and all together tried to survive in the revolution, which was not an easy matter. i then joined the british military mission with the offices at the british embassy. about that time the kerensky government was overthrown by the bolsheviks and a lot of fighting took place in the city. nelka used to say how pretty the city looked with the streets completely empty, when she would be returning home, sometimes skirting the walls of the buildings when some shooting would start along the street. we all soon got used to that kind of existence, which became a normal way of life. but the revolution was going on and things were getting worse from day to day. the bolsheviks were killing right and left and the red terror was in full swing. my work with the british mission was at that time of some protection for the bolsheviks were not yet sure of themselves to the extent of daring to molest the foreign missions. my work with the mission took me away on various trips accompanying british officers. in the spring of , one of these trips took me to mourmansk on the arctic ocean and where fighting was in progress between white russians and other foreign units and the bolsheviks. all that area was not exactly a very healthy place to be in and after quite a few adventures i managed to return to petrograd. i brought back with me cases of what the british call 'iron rations,' a mixture of all kinds of food to be used in emergencies. food was more than scarce by that time and i was given a couple of cases. it was a god send for all of us. we all subsisted on it. but the bolsheviks were getting bolder by the day and were raiding houses, arresting former officers and executing them every night. one evening about ten, a knock came on the door. i opened. three men with rifles came in with a commissar. they asked for me by name and said they had an order to search the place. they asked if i had any arms and i said i had a service revolver, which had been given to me by the british. i also had another revolver of mine which lay on the mantelpiece. nelka, who was there in the room, did at that moment a most risky thing. unobtrusively she slipped my revolver into the pocket of her dress. i noticed this, but the men did not. i produced the other gun which they dutifully registered and took. they then proceeded to search the place and after examining my papers, announced that i would not be arrested in view of my service with the british. upon that they left. nelka had done a most risky thing, for had the pistol been discovered in her pocket, it probably would have been the end of all of us. however, things were getting very acute and very dangerous. it was obvious that a similar raid might happen again any day and might not finish as well. should i be arrested and taken away the chances would be of my being shot. so far my service with the british had served as a protection, but with the relations with the foreigners fast getting worse, this could mean just the opposite for me and the connection would be detrimental instead of helpful. so it soon proved to be. we all had a general consultation and decided to try and get out of the country if only possible. my father went to moscow where he knew a prominent jew who was procuring exit permits, for a price, and was helping that way people to get abroad. then we all began to move about trying to stay in different places, different nights. in the midst of all this, i declared my love to nelka and asked her to marry me. she refused because she said she did not think it was fair to me on account of our age difference. i was then twenty-one and she was forty. i kept insisting. she admitted that she loved me and would not hesitate had it not been because of the age difference. on a certain friday morning something kept me from going as usual to the british embassy where our offices were located. this proved to be my salvation for that same morning the embassy was raided by the bolsheviks. they invaded the embassy, arrested all the british officers and killed commander crombie right on the entrance steps when he tried to stop them from entering. they hung his body head down out of one of the windows. all the russian officers who worked with the mission were also arrested and promptly shot. of such officers, only three including myself ultimately got away. thirteen were shot. after the embassy raid my position became extremely precarious, for i was now on the black list and being searched for. while previously my connection with the mission had been a protection, now it was just the opposite. i could not very well remain in our apartment and we all scattered, except my mother who remained. my father was still in moscow. nelka went to some friends. i spent some time in the country where i hid for some time in our empty house. it is to be noted that food was practically unavailable and that there was no money to buy it with if there was any. so we all had a pretty desperate time, but so did everyone else. in the midst of all this, nelka finally agreed to marry me. perhaps the revolution, the circumstances, the constant danger which we were all facing all of the time, helped her make her decision. but decide she did and so one day early in september we went to tsarskoe selo, an hour by train from petrograd where an old aunt of mine lived. we were married in a church there with just a handful of friends in attendance. nelka wore a white sister's uniform for her wedding dress. my old aunt who was very fond of nelka took off a gold bracelet she wore and put it on nelka's arm. nelka never took it off throughout her life. some friends of ours let us use their empty apartment for our honeymoon. we had a pound can of british bully beef and subsisted on that until it was used up. we then returned to petrograd and moved into one room of a tiny flat where a polish woman, mrs. kelpsh, lived who had worked in nelka's hospital in kovno. this was in a back yard of a small side street. she registered nelka under her maiden name and me not at all. if seen, i was just supposed to be a boy-friend visiting. however, things were getting more and more dangerous, and we had to invent something if we were to save ourselves. earlier, before our marriage, when things were not so bad and we were all seeking ways of getting out of russia, i had applied for a foreign passport to go abroad. at first some people were being let out before the bolsheviks clamped down on everybody. now, this application at the foreign office or commissariat was a dangerous identity of myself and a disclosure, especially when i was being searched for because of my connection with the british mission. nelka knew this situation and one day unknown to me she went to the commissariat. there she very naively inquired about the application of michael moukhanoff. the girl looked up and brought out my file, looked it over and said that no decision had been made yet. nelka then asked when one could hope to have an answer. the girl said she did not know but could go and find out. if nelka would wait she would go and inquire. she left the room and nelka then did a very desperate thing. she picked up the file from the table, walked quickly out of the room, down the corridor and then faster down the steps and into the street where she mixed into the crowd. a dangerous thing to do, but my file was gone, even though my position became that way only more illegal and perhaps even more dangerous. but nelka as usual did the decided thing with courage and determination. like many others we were now trying to escape. like always in such cases, there are people who for a price were getting people out of town and over the finish border. it was very dangerous work for them--dangerous for the people trying to leave and also expensive. we established contact with one such person who turned out to be a very decent fellow, and he agreed to try and get us out. he had peasants along the border whom he knew and who were helping him. these he had to pay and quite highly for it was all dangerous work for them also. he warned us that he could not tell when he would be ready to move us and that we should be ready to go on a moment's notice. therefore, we prepared what we thought we could take with us and waited. in the meantime my father had succeeded to get some false papers through his jewish friend in moscow and with these he and my mother managed to get over the finnish border into finland by train. they were by now in stockholm and getting ready to sail to america. by this time also, nelka and i were living in another house, in a closed apartment in a house where some very close friends of ours lived. nelka was registered there under a false passport in the name of emilia sarapp. i was not known, unless as a boy friend. the food situation had become absolutely desperate. there just was none. some mornings i would go to the outskirts of the city where peasants would come in their sleighs selling milk. people fought to get a quart of this watery stuff. we also had some frozen potatoes. when frozen, potatoes are pink and sweet and slimy. these we ate without butter or even salt which was not available. the watery milk sometimes helped. once in a while we got a loaf of black bread with a mixture of straw. i saw people cut off chunks of meat from a dead horse lying in the street and carry it home for their dinner. so we packed some clothes and valuables and waited. before leaving, we wanted once more to see my old aunt in tsarskoe and we went there to say goodbye. we spent the day with her and were returning to petrograd before dark, for a curfew was sometimes imposed and it was not safe to be around in the dark. as we were hurrying through the crowded station, someone slipped up to the side of nelka. it was our friend from the house we lived in. she whispered to nelka: "do not return home. a raid took place and they have an ambush waiting for you." having said that, she slipped away into the crowd. now we were in a desperate fix, and we knew it. the first thing was to get off the streets. we quickly thought it over and then called the apartment of some friends of mine, who we knew were not there, but where an old governess was still remaining. we just said we would come over. people understood and asked no questions. we went there, explained what had happened and spent the night. we were in a critical situation. we had no money, except a little on hand, no belongings of any kind, except the clothes on us, and in greater danger of getting caught. so first of all, we went to the man who was to take us over the border and explained the situation. he especially understood how very dangerous it was particularly for me, with all the points which were against me. he said he had nothing arranged for the moment, except one possibility which was not too certain and not too safe. he had a peasant coming to see him that day and that he could send me with him, but not both, for this was not to sure a way. he suggested that we better accept this proposition that i be got out of the way at once and over the border and that with the next safer possibility he could move nelka, i to be waiting just over the border. nelka explained that we had no money but that she thought that she could get some from some one she knew. we all discussed the situation together for a while, but saw that there was not much choice. in the meantime, the peasant arrived and the man went to talk to him. finally, it was decided that nelka remain with our friends under the name of emilia sarapp and that i go with the peasant, and wait at the border. it was all very bad. finally we had to say goodbye, both realizing the danger but having little choice. it was quite a heartbreaking separation--i leaving into the unknown with a bandit looking individual, of whom we knew nothing, nelka remaining in the city with the uncertainty of finding any money. i will not go into the details of my trip, except to say that it was not easy nor safe, but i finally late that night reached the finnish border and crossing the stream separating the two countries in the woods and deep snow, arrived at a small finnish peasant hut. i explained the situation to him and that i would like to stay with him for a few days until my wife could join me. he readily agreed for he knew and participated in this business of people escaping and was receiving a number of them at all times. he was also engaged in contraband dealings and a number of his agents kept coming and going through his hut, moving goods over the border. i had just a little money and arranged to have him keep me. i gave a note to the peasant who brought me over and he promised to get it to nelka when he returned to petrograd. then i waited. practically every night people came over the border and most of them stopped at the hut. it was quite an active spot. one or two of the parties who were all coming through the services of the same man, brought me notes from nelka. once or twice i crossed the border back into russia and went about five miles to the nearest village hoping that perhaps nelka was coming through with the next party as she wrote she hoped to. this perhaps was dangerous and risky on my part, but nervousness just kept me from sitting still. then the unforeseen happened. at that time the finnish people were having a revolution of their own. there were red finns and white finns fighting each other all over the country. the front was fluid with small units moving back and forth, here and there, occupying this or that area or this or that village. there is where misfortune struck me. a red finnish patrol took possession of the area and i was caught by the red patrol. this has nothing to do with this story i am now writing about nelka, so i will not go into this complicated and lengthy matter of how i managed to escape from the finnish reds. this is a long story. suffice it to say, that i managed to get away. but it was not possible any more for me to remain on finnish ground and i crossed in the night back into russia. having no money i was obliged to walk and walked about miles to petrograd. i finally made it, but i did not know where to look for nelka so i went to our man. he told me that nelka was to come and see him that morning at about eleven, and so i waited. nelka arrived on time. when she saw me she went into an absolute fury, for my having come back. i always said that she was in such a fury with me that for about hours i never even had a chance to try to tell her why i was back. finally i got it over to her, and while we were happy to be together again, our position was just as desperate, if not worse, and we were back where we had started. we knew that we better do something fast. however, while nelka had managed to get some money, there was not enough to pay the man to get us over. so i made a suggestion. in as much as i had crossed the border twice and knew the way pretty well, i suggested that we go on our own without any guide or assistance. we explained this to our man who was very nice about it and said that if we wanted to take the risk it was up to us. however, there was little choice so we decided. we paid him for my first trip and had a little money left. through some black market dealer we managed to get a loaf of black bread and with nothing else but the clothes on our backs, we started out. nelka wore a sisters uniform black dress, a heavy cloth coat, a fur cap and black leather high boots--like riding boots. i wore a military field uniform without insignia, like most of all the population wore at that time. while adequate, none of this was too warm for long stays in the cold, but we had nothing else. it was the end of december. early in the morning we took a train in the direction of the finnish border. trains ran as far as the border, but we got off two stations earlier, at the same one i used the first time. from that station we proceeded on foot down a country road towards a village i knew some five miles away. we reached there in the early afternoon and stopped at a hut where i also had been on my first trip. the peasant woman gave us some soup and we were resting and warming up, when suddenly a bunch of red soldiers entered the yard. the woman whisked us quickly into an empty room in the back of the house and told us to remain quiet. we could hear the men come in and ask her if she had seen any refugees around. (it is to be noted that there were constantly people trying to escape all along the border and the reds were always searching them out. at one time as many as to were getting over the border daily. all along the border within five miles people were shot on sight.) we heard the woman say she had seen no one. one of the men asked about her house and asked what was in that room, meaning the one we were in. the woman answered, "oh, i keep my chicken there." the men did not insist and left. it was a close call. after the men left, the woman suggested that we better leave too, for it was too risky for her to have us there. we got by once, but it might not happen again so we also decided that we better leave. the soldiers had gone in the direction of the station, and, as we were to continue further, we got out on to the road and started for the next village, a distance of nearly seven miles through the woods. i also knew that village and some of the peasants. from there the path through the woods led to the finnish border, some five miles away. it was getting late and was not a good time to be out at dark for at night the reds put out patrols. i hoped however to reach the village before nightfall and so we hurried along. the road was well rolled down--the going was not hard and we made good time. it was just getting dark but a moon was coming up when we reached the village. the first hut was the one i had been to before and i knew the peasants there, who were some of the peasants working for our man. we entered and a woman rushed up to us crying and urging us to get out. she was weeping and finally managed to explain that her husband had just been arrested by the reds and taken away on suspicion that he was helping the refugees. she practically pushed us out of the house. so here we were, out on the road facing a dilemma. any moment now the night red patrol would be out on the road. another one would be out at the village we came from. before us lay the path towards the finnish border, but it crossed a wide field before entering the woods. i knew the way well but with the full moon out you could see a great distance, like in the day, on the bright snow and i was afraid to be spotted crossing that field. i told nelka i was afraid to risk this trip towards the border as it was so light. but we had little choice, for the patrols would be out any minute now and we could not remain on the road. with no other choice left we retreated into the woods, off the road and settled under some thick pine trees for the night, right in the snow. it was xmas eve. we survived the night and even slept a little. it was also evident that nelka was developing some kind of flu and was running a temperature. i used to joke that she melted the snow around us because of that. luckily there was no wind. the snow was deep and we dug out a hollow. the temperature was probably about ten or fifteen above. remember we had no covers--just our clothes. we ate some of our remaining black bread. we were tired from so much walking and so we slept. by morning it was obvious that nelka was ill and had a temperature. we had to act quick and invent something, so we went back to the village and i entered the same hut again. the woman had quieted down and did not push us out. we also found there another couple who turned out to be an officer with his wife trying to get out as we did, so we decided to stick together. the woman suggested that we go by sleigh to the next village and try to cross from there. so we hired a sleigh and started out--this time the four of us with the driver. it was now fairly safe to move along the roads by day with the night patrols off. we drove to the next village about ten miles away. when we came to the village, our driver said he wanted to stop at the tavern which was located at the entrance to the village. he went in while we waited in the sleigh. when he came out a soldier followed him onto the porch. he looked at us suspiciously and then asked the peasant where we were coming from. the peasant named a village to the east. the soldier then suddenly said: "why your horse is turned the wrong way, wait a minute," and he stepped back into the tavern. our driver whipped up his horse and we went down the road as fast as we could. looking back we saw several soldiers run out on the porch. one of them lifted his rifle and a shot came over us, but we were well on our way. they had no horses available to follow us so did not pursue and we got away. after a ride of some two miles, we turned sharply to the left and down a narrow lane into the woods. here the peasant stopped and said the border was only about two miles away and that he would lead us for so much. we agreed. he hid his sleigh and horse in an empty barn and we started out. soon the lane ended and we were in thick woods. the snow was waste deep and with the fallen logs, the going was extremely difficult. we had to haul the women over the logs and pull them out of the deep snow. both the women and especially nelka who was ill, were completely exhausted. it was a painful procession. finally we came to a clearing in the woods and the peasant turning around, said very calmly, "this is finland." a very strange feeling of elation and apprehension and a strange feeling of leaving in such a manner one's native land. we were now not at all sure what kind of finns we would encounter, but soon we saw two finnish soldiers and much to my relief i recognized them as being white finns. they stopped us and then took us to the village to their officer. a young lieutenant was sitting at a table in a small hut. we reported to him and when i mentioned that i was an officer and named my regiment, he rose and saluted. the finns were very decent and helpful in every way. despite their own difficulties, they extended help to the numerous refugees coming over, established receiving camps and medical units for the sick. we were taken by sleigh to terrioky. nelka as having temperature was taken to the hospital and i to the camp. as soon as possible we communicated with our friends the wredes in helsingfors and they immediately took steps to get us out of camp and into their own home. so in a few days we were on our way to helsingfors where we received the warmest hospitality from the wredes and remained with them for about six weeks. we then proceeded by way of stockholm and oslo to the united states sailing on the stavangerfiord for new york early in february of . upon our arrival in america we went to washington where we stayed with nelka's aunt and uncle. later in the spring we went to cazenovia to the little house which nelka's aunt susie had left her and spent finally a restful and quiet summer, which was our honeymoon time. we were also regaining our health, which had suffered from the starvation period. nelka put on some forty pounds and i came back to normal after having been bloated from hunger, like some starved hindu child. however, we soon felt that this easy and restful life was not right morally. the bolsheviks were still in power, wrecking russia and a civil war was raging between the bolsheviks and the white russians: we decided that it was our duty to go back and help. so i went to washington and offered my services at the russian mission to join one of the volunteer armies. we first planned to go to siberia but then decided we would join the army of general denikin in the south of russia, and i was given an assignment there. before sailing for europe we went to new orleans to visit nelka's cousin and then sailed from there for liverpool, and then to london and paris. once in paris we were advised that things were not going well in the south with the army of general denikin and that we better wait before going on. so we stayed in france and i joined the french airplane factory of louis breguet near paris where i worked for about months. then things got better in the southern army and we once again decided to go on to the army reorganized now by general wrangel. just at that time the breguet factory received an order for night bombers for the russian army and it was arranged that i escort that shipment to the crimea. so once again i put on the uniform of a russian lieutenant, nelka put on the uniform of a russian red cross nurse and we set out. the planes were boxed and sent to marseilles where they were loaded on a french freighter, the saint basil, and we left for constantinople. as the planes were bulky but light, the boat was light and high in the water. because of that the propeller was but halfway in the water and our progress was very slow. it took us days to get to constantinople. hardly had we dropped anchor in the bosphorus as a launch drew up and a french officer came aboard and asked who was in charge of the shipment. he informed me that we could not proceed any further because news had just been received that the army of general wrangel had started the evacuation of the crimea. so we had to go ashore. the planes, having come from france, were unloaded and left with the french army of occupation. so, came to an end our trip and our efforts to join the white russian army. we landed in constantinople and in the next few days the evacuated army of wrangel started to arrive. over , people arrived including the remnants of the army and between and thousand wounded. the plight of these people was terrible. while the wounded were landed and taken care of by the american and british red cross, most of the rest were not allowed ashore and were kept on board the ships in the harbour. one boat had , people aboard. the day after we had arrived, i accidentally met in the street robert imbrie, whom i had known when he was american consul in petrograd. it turned out that he also had just arrived and like ourselves was also on his way to the crimea, appointed from the state department. he asked me what i was going to do and i explained that probably for the moment we would return to france. he said that he was waiting for instructions from washington to know what to do. next day he contacted me saying that he was assigned to form a russian section at the american embassy in constantinople and offered me a job to work with him. i gladly accepted and so we stayed in constantinople for the next months. it was a very interesting period. my work was varied. i acted as interpreter at the american embassy with the russians and with the french. nelka joined the organization of the french admiral's wife, madame dumesnil, doing refugee relief work. it was an interesting and exhilarating time in constantinople. we saw and knew a number of very interesting people. we saw unusual situations and we were both very busy. mr. imbrie, with whom i worked, had as his assignment to undertake inspection tours. for this he often used the american destroyers which were anchored in the bosphorus. thus, we went to gallipoli, to lemnos, to salonica, etc. on a certain day we took off for varna in bulgaria and from there to batum in the caucasus. nelka remained in constantinople and had with her a little companion, a dog djedda. djedda influenced a great deal of our future existence, and as you will see there was quite a story attached to this little dog. one day we were visiting the bazaar of constantinople, a colorful, typical oriental spot, crowded and noisy, with oriental smells and sounds. in one of the passages we came across a small, brown dog, which was running around frightened and miserable. we spoke to her and, while she was timid, she was friendly and came to us. we decided to pick her up and that we could give her to the little daughter of the man in whose house we had a room. the little girl offy was living with her father who had recently lost his wife and we thought that the little dog would fit in nicely as a playmate for the little girl. offy was very pleased and we showed her how to take care of the dog. the first thing to do was to wash the dog and get some of the grime off. when this was done we were surprised to find out that she was white not brown, the size of a small fox terrier, with lovely eyes and a vivacious disposition. so all was well for the dog, for offy and for us--at least for the moment. a few days later offy announced that the dog seemed ill. we examined her and found that she was running a temperature, would not move and certainly was not well. we arranged her in a small box and took her to our room for she needed better care than the little girl could give her. as she did not improve, we took her to the veterinary and he found that she was suffering from inflammatory rheumatism of the joints. he gave her some medicine and told us to keep her quiet. this was not difficult to do for she was very ill and did not move. in this critical condition she must have stayed for about two weeks, possibly more. then she began to show some signs of recovery, but even this was very gradual. gradually she began to regain strength and finally we tried to have her get out of her box and walk about. when we tried this, we found to our surprise that she could not stand up and we discovered that her two front legs had stiffened in the joints, which would not move. those joints had actually grown together and the dog would never be able to move them again. however, with time djedda adapted herself wonderfully to this situation and learned to hobble about just on her hind legs supporting herself by holding her left front leg against her hip. the right front leg was bent up below her chin against her chest. naturally in that condition the dog could not remain with the little girl so she stayed with us. and despite her crippled condition, djedda was a most wonderful and lovable dog. she adapted herself so well that she could even go up the steps. like all invalids, djedda adapted herself wonderfully and was quite proficient in her movements, though she always remained a cripple. the only thing she could not do was come down the stairs. so, if she found herself at the head of the stairs, she would start barking until someone came to carry her down. she was a very wonderful pet to us for about years. this poor little cripple was the most gay and joyful little dog, a wonderful and devoted companion and we never regretted for a moment having had the good luck of finding her. she gave us a great deal of joy and comfort. so when i left with imbrie for batum, nelka remained with djedda. when leaving i told nelka that i was to be back a certain monday. well, things did not go exactly on schedule. when we got to batum, we found that the city, which was occupied by the turks, was being besieged by the georgians. we went ashore, looked the situation over and saw that it was not good. we remained anchored in the harbor. the next morning the georgians attacked and hot fighting resulted. most of it was with small arms only, but when the bullets begun to spatter against our destroyer, the captain decided that we better get out, which we did, and we steamed back to constantinople. with this delay, we were off schedule and instead of arriving on monday it was wednesday. when i returned home i found that nelka was gone, with a note left for me. the note said that as i had not returned on monday and as news had reached constantinople that heavy fighting was on in batum, that she was leaving to look for me. i was furious, because it was so utterly useless. upon inquiry i found that she had boarded a small italian freighter plying the cost of asiatic turkey. the boat named san georgio had left on tuesday and had no wireless. the boat's company explained that she was due back in about three weeks. i went to explain the situation to admiral bristol at the american embassy. he said that he knew about nelka having gone, for while disapproving of it and advising her against it, he had helped her get the interallied visas which were necessary to be able to leave the city. normally it took about a week to get these visas, british, french, italian and united states. nelka got them in hours. while the embassy reassured her and told her there was nothing to worry about, her main objective of getting on a boat was to try to communicate with me on the destroyer by wireless. it later developed that, after she had left on the san georgio and they were out at sea, then only did she discover that the boat carried no wireless. therefore her main objective of communicating with me was not possible but this she discovered too late. she had booked passage first class and upon arriving found out that that entitled her to a chair in the salon. others sat on the deck on the floor. the decks were crowded with turkish men who were traveling from one small port to the next along the east. each night they brought out their small prayer rugs and turning towards the setting sun, prayed kneeling in rows on deck. once aboard, nelka also found out that first class tickets did not include meals. having very little money with her, she found that she was not able to afford to buy much. she had a bag of apples with her. not having anyone to leave djedda with, nelka took her along and carried her under her arm all the time. while they did not feed nelka, the steward was very kind and djedda was fed. and so they traveled. i, in the meantime, was desperately trying to find a way to contact nelka on the san georgio. the admiral and the embassy were very cooperative and the admiral issued orders to all the destroyers to keep an eye for the san georgio and intercept her if spotted. having traveled most of the length of the southern coast of the black sea, the italian captain announced that he was going into batum. batum in the meantime had been occupied by the bolshevik forces and therefore nelka's position became very precarious. she argued with the captain but he said he had a cargo to pick up and that he was going in. the first thing nelka did was to hide her identification papers, her passport and visas. better to have nothing than to be found out as a white russian. she remained in the cabin while in batum. on the second morning a bunch of bolshevik soldiers arrived and announced that they were going to search the ship. this was a very dangerous situation for nelka. however after a while, and while they had been half through the boat, another party arrived and started an argument with the first bunch as to who had the right to make this search. they pretty nearly came to blows in this argument, but finally still arguing all left without finishing the search. this was a close call for nelka. next morning the san georgio pulled out on her way back to constantinople. she was grateful, but by now was becoming pretty hungry and what food she managed to get was very scarce. a few days later, just as they were pulling into samsun, the american destroyer john d. edwards spotted the san georgio, hailed her and inquired about nelka. when told that she was aboard, they lowered a boat and came to fetch her, and took her and the dog aboard upon specific orders from admiral bristol. the commanding officer, captain sharp was most helpful and kind. he gave nelka his cabin and, also as she had run out of everything, offered her his underclothes. two sailors were assigned to take care of djedda. they steamed back towards constantinople, but had to delay the return for they had to go out to sea for gunnery practice. thus, nelka must have remained on the destroyer for four or five days before returning. this was a very harrowing and needless expedition which could have very easily ended in a tragic manner. by summer the work of the russian section of the embassy was coming to an end. my chief, mr. imbrie, received a new assignment to go to rumania, and we decided to return to france. the embassy hearing this, offered to give us a permit to travel to marseilles on an american shipping board vessel, which normally did not carry passengers. they advised that it would be convenient for us and inexpensive, the rate being only $ per day for each of us, for a trip of about five days. we accepted with pleasure. it was also convenient for the transportation of our animals, for by this time, in addition to djedda we had a small black dog and two young cats. one, nuri, was a small kitten which i picked up out of the gutter where it was nearly drowned in the rain. that was a very wonderful cat who lived with us for years. late one evening we boarded the lake farley. the captain assigned to us our cabin and we were underway. it was late july and when we entered the cabin we found that the temperature must have been well over a hundred. it was so hot that the floor was too hot for the cats to walk on and they kept jumping back and forth from one bunk to the other. the dogs we had left on deck. so we went to the captain and complained about the heat. he said he was sorry he had nothing better but that the whole boat was at our disposal and we could arrange ourselves wherever we wished. so after looking everything over, we finally decided to sleep on top of the chartroom. we climbed up there with a couple of blankets and settled for the night under the stars. this was not bad but only the sparks from the funnel kept raining down on us most of the time. but we got used to this and stayed that way most of the trip. the captain was american as well as the mate but the crew was of all nationalities, the cook being a turk. however it did not look as though the trip would last only five days as the boat was very slow. we stopped on our way at biserta on the african coast and had a day ashore. the day after we left biserta at lunch time, i smelled smoke, so i told nelka i would go and investigate. the moment i came out on deck the alarm bells started off and i saw the middle of the ship aflame. while i went on deck, nelka had gone to our cabin, and when she entered she also heard the alarm. so picking up the two cats and a life belt, she hurried on deck. i likewise picked up the two dogs and a life belt. the captain was hollering from the bridge to lower the boats as the ship would blow up because of the oil. in a few minutes one of the boats was already bobbing on the water and the cook in his white cap was in it. however, all who were available were fighting the fire, mostly with sand and finally we got it under control. all was fine, only the fire did some damage in the engine room and for more than a day we drifted while they were making repairs. then we resumed our way to barcelona where we were to unload some of the wheat we were carrying. when we got there the spanish authorities would not allow us to go ashore for, as we were russians, they decided that we may be communists. so they even posted a policeman to see that we would not sneak off. this might not have been so bad, but in the unloading a mistake was made. the forward hull was emptied and as a result the ship sank by the stern and got stuck in the mud bottom. it took us a whole week to extricate ourselves and all that time we had to just sit on that boat. by the time we finally got to marseille we had been traveling for three weeks. we settled in menton where we remained for several years. i worked in a french real estate office. we also played at monte carlo and were quite proficient. nelka used to say that this was the only honest and "above board" business. in the summer of we received the news that nelka's uncle herbert wadsworth had died suddenly from a heart attack. once again nelka had a severe blow and sorrow and once more she had lost a close person without having seen him. that fall we finally sailed for america with our friends count and countess pushkin. we all settled in cazenovia where count pushkin and i started a furniture carving business which we kept up for about three years, until the start of the depression. while living on the riviera our animal family had grown to dogs and cats, all picked up or abandoned. the little crippled djedda was still with us and the most cherished of our pets. we brought the whole menagerie with us to america. in when the depression was well under way, we once again sailed back to france and this time were there for three years--part of the time in the south and part near paris. my father died at that time and in we returned to america. on arrival, we went directly to ashantee to visit nelka's aunt martha, who had been quite ill for sometime after a car accident. we arrived on a saturday. the next tuesday aunt martha died. this was again a terrible shock for nelka. once again death had struck suddenly and this time her last close relative was gone. both aunt susie and uncle herbert had died without nelka being with them and now aunt martha dies only three days after we had returned. aunt martha left ashantee to nelka and her cousin lutie van horn. so unexpectedly we found ourselves here and remained. at first we thought that we would sell the property but the depression was on and it was not possible to do so. thus we stayed and stayed. i did some farming and we still had the remnants of her aunt's horse business, but these were difficult years for us. i think that while this prolonged stay might have been difficult and materially complicated, this time was not wasted, as nelka pointed out, from a moral point of view. it was a time of consolidation of our points of view, of our beliefs and conceptions. and so we stayed here from until today, and until nelka passed away in december --a long stay of close to thirty years. nelka had had a very varied, very diversified and unusual life. a life which was one of highly emotional feelings. i think characteristic of nelka was her highly emotional expression of loyalty and devotion, an emotion, which dominated most of her life and all of her actions. anything she did or undertook was primarily motivated by emotion rather than by reason, but once decided upon she carried out her actions with great determination and great will power. her first overwhelming emotional feeling was a patriotic nationalistic feeling for russia, and a mystic devotion to the person of the emperor and the russian orthodox church. then her next emotional feeling was the attachment and deep loyalty for her family and her kin. but in russia she had no relatives and all her family was american. because of that there seemed always to be a conflict of feelings, attachments and loyalties, a conflict which dominated a great part of her life, at least the first part of it. i think in many respects this conflict of feelings was upsetting and painful and she suffered a great deal from the frustrations that these feelings often brought about. because of these conflicting feelings and attachments nelka was restless and went back and forth between europe and america always seeking a solution and a way of life. i think these conflicting feelings and the deep attachment to her family were the main reasons why for so long she had not married. she just was afraid to create or add a new attachment. pretty, with a lovely figure, always very feminine, with a brilliant mind and a sparkling personality, a great sense of humor, broad and diversified education, an understanding of art and good taste, cosmopolitan in her experiences and speaking four languages--nelka had tremendous success both with men and with women. the friends she had were always deeply devoted friends who kept their friendship through years or through life and were always under the spell of her personality. her overwhelming personality and charm naturally attracted men and about thirty men of every nationality had at one time or another asked her in marriage. when she was twenty-two, during her four months visit in bulgaria, five men proposed to her. but she never agreed, first because just marriage for the sake of marriage had no attraction for her, and because of her emotional attachments she was afraid to create a new one. she also once told my mother that she would never marry unless she had a complete and overwhelming feeling, and that she had not yet found. throughout these years and because of these conflicting feelings, i think she was disturbed and in many ways not happy. there was too much conflict of feelings. also her philosophically inclined mind was always searching and seeking--searching a religious understanding of life, always questioning the reasons for this or that problem of life. her aunt susan blow, who was a great student of philosophy, contributed much in a way to nelka's emotional seekings. but how often in later years nelka lamented the fact that she had not utilized fully the wisdom and the knowledge that her aunt could have given her in her philosophical understandings. nelka was seeking by herself, trying to unravel the questions which bothered her through her own thinking. but from a rational point of view some of her feelings and emotions were very devastating for her own existence and her own serenity. and her deep attachment to the family was also a source of pain and suffering because of its acuteness. there was not much family left but for those who remained, nelka gave a full measure of love and devotion. the loss of those close to her were blows which did not heal easily and caused deep pain. the death of her little dog tibi likewise gave a nearly exaggerated frustration and grief. just like everything else in her life, nelka's grief was complete. she in everything understood and accepted only completeness. nothing in her life meant anything if it was only partial. she could never settle for %, always seeking totality, only completeness, and this of course is a tremendous strain on one's person. that strain i think showed itself in nelka for many years of her life and only towards the later part of it she seemed to acquire some stability of feeling and emotional impulse. there was a reason for that of which i will speak later. a friend of hers once said about her, "she was a tremendous personality and such force." like all humans she had her weaknesses, but these weaknesses were in a way her force, for by sheer will power, by determination or by uncompromising dedication, she was able to control or overcome her weaknesses. not many are able to do that. she had many friends in all walks of life and in different countries of many nationalities, but always the reaction was the same--a complete spell of attraction and fascination and generally a long lasting friendship--which once established, was never broken. and that because of that tremendous personality. around lived a young russian girl, marie bashkirtzeff. she wrote some prose and poetry and did some painting. she lived and died very young from tb on the french riviera in nice. not particularly pretty, nor particularly striking, she had nevertheless a tremendous personality. in fact so striking that the city of nice after her death created a museum bashkirtzeff where were kept her paintings, her writings and her personal things. the french author francois coppee said of marie bashkirtzeff: "je l'ai vue une fois, je l'ai vue une heure, je ne l'oublirais jamais." (i saw her once, i saw her one hour--i shall forget her never.) i think as far as personality is concerned, this applied likewise to nelka. as i said before, i saw her for the first time when i was but seven years old. the impression i got then never left me throughout my life and only grew and developed with time and age. we were married for years and my love and devotion to her date back from that encounter at seven. in other words a span of years--a lifetime. a lifetime during which everything was centered around this one person. i think one can say that she had been both very happy and very unhappy in her life, at least this was the balance of her feelings during the first half of her life. during that period she experienced great happiness in her relationship with her mother and with other members of her family, in the devotion and loyalty she had to them. she also experienced happiness in her endeavors in her school work, in her interests in life and for life. the happiness she may have derived from the realization of things well done and accomplished. but also there was great, overwhelming unhappiness and sorrow, because of the unusually hard way in which she accepted the loss of those who were close to her. few probably felt such losses as acutely as she did and this caused pain and anguish. then there also was unhappiness in the contradiction and the division of feelings, between two countries, two backgrounds, two ideologies, two attachments. this constant division brought with it many heartaches, many disappointments. and then the second half of her life was the one she passed with me. i can only hope that i may have given her at least a measure of the happiness which she so much deserved. again there were disappointments, frustrations and heartaches as there are in every life and existence. but gradually, with age she seemed to acquire a greater calm in her feelings, she seemed to mellow in her intensity, she seemed to find greater reconciliation within her own beliefs and thoughts and find a greater calm of the soul and a greater satisfaction in her beliefs than she had before that. she always felt that the turning point in her life, as well as in mine, started from the time we were in constantinople and when we saw a distant aunt of mine, princess gorchakoff. she was a student of theosophy and also seemed to have the calm and serenity which comes from the study of that philosophy. undoubtedly she had a good deal of influence on nelka and started us on a new way of thinking. out of this encounter developed gradually all the changes of beliefs and attitudes which brought about such a fundamental and radical change in all the outlooks which nelka had held hitherto and which she was now discarding. i think i can say that towards the end she had acquired great moral calm, satisfaction and serenity. she was not perplexed or afraid of the uncertainties of one's beliefs, of the imminence of death or of the questions of the hereafter. doubt, uncertainty, perplexity and an unresolved search seemed to have been supplanted by a feeling of calm and confidence. a great thing for anyone to have and to be able to have the moral fortitude to face such a change and to accept it graciously. and the change was radical and complete in every phase of her life: from a framework of an organized church, the change to a live internal belief in the teachings of christ and an effort to carry this out in the aspects of everyday living, in reality of application and not in dogma. from a conservative, ultra conservative aristocratic, nearly feudal system of absolute monarchy, an understanding that this had become obsolete and had no value except perhaps in it purely external beauty--to a realistic approach of a form of christian socialism and the brotherhood not only of man but of all living creatures. from an accepted habit of meat eating to complete ethical vegetarianism as a regard to the sanctity of all life. a complete reverence of life. from an intolerance towards the beliefs of others to a complete understanding of the others point of view. a tolerance towards others, accepting from them only as much as the given person can understand in the given time and his mental and moral development, and no more. but at the same time expecting to see that person exercise in practice the full measure of that understanding and belief. from a pride and satisfaction at her aristocratic origin, an admission that this had no value and that the only thing that counted was the "aristocracy of the spirit." from a worry of having to put a new fur collar on her winter coat to a refusal to wear any fur as being the product of animal slaughter or the product of the trap, producing protracted agony to the animals. from a lack of understanding, if not indifference, to animals and dogs in particular, an intense devotion, love and work for all animals and for dogs in particular. from an interest and participation in medicine, a complete reversal in her attitude towards it because of the vivisectional basis of most of it. as a result, an ardent and militant anti-vivisectionist. a complete change all along the line. despite an often tragic look on life and a serious questioning of its purposes, despite a great deal of sorrow which she always felt very deeply, despite an often sad expression on her face in her photographs, nelka had a great deal of natural gaiety and a tremendous sense of humor. she was always ready to see the funny qualities of people or the funny side of events and could laugh with a great deal of abandon. despite her strong russian nationalism, nelka was fundamentally cosmopolitan. having had a diversified education in various countries, speaking four languages and having traveled extensively through many countries, she had a cosmopolitan mind and outlook and was perfectly at home in any country and with any nationality, in any surrounding. nelka's mind was always a very philosophical mind and which was never at rest. i have never known anyone who did so much constant thinking. she was always thinking, her mind never idle, always trying to "think things out." many people are ready or willing to just "accept." nelka was never ready to just "accept." she would accept only after she had thought it out and could accept it as a result of her own thinking. perhaps the most striking change in her outlook and belief was the question of war. she had been a strong militarist; that is, that she understood and justified and accepted war. in fact she considered that this was the only right attitude that one could have and that the willingness to go to war for an idea or a principle could not be questioned. thus, she had participated in three wars. but then later, having seen all the horrors of war, its utter futility, absurdity and uselessness and most of all its immorality and its contradictions to the principles of the teachings of christ, she became an uncompromising and militant pacifist. very characteristic of nelka was her attitude towards all action and activities motivated for a principle. she was never worried or seeking results. she always said that one should do the right thing as one understood it and not worry about the results, those will take care of themselves. if you did the right thing, the result was bound to come, but should not be the goal in itself--the goal only being to try to do the maximum according to one's understanding. a very admirable conception but one which it is not easy to accept by most who only seek results and often with means which might not be the right ones. the concept that the end justifies the means was certainly the absolute opposite of what she was either seeking or believing. it took courage to advocate such beliefs and even perhaps more courage to be able to turn around and so fundamentally change the beliefs from the ones held to the ones now accepted. but the concept of accepting only that which one understands at the given time, applied just as much to the beliefs first held as to the ones ultimately accepted. nelka was never afraid physically, but she was also never afraid morally. i think after our marriage and also the circumstances of the revolution nelka lost some of her restlessness. marriage for better or worse was an achievement and carried with it an obligation and a purpose. she took the acceptance of marriage as a completeness and a fusion of two persons into one. this in itself was an anchor which held back the former restlessness. also the russia she loved so was gone as a practical and possible entity and only a memory of a past devotion remained. therefore, both marriage and the revolution brought about a stabilization of feelings and a concentration as well. there was less possible diversion and this brought a mental calm and satisfaction. there was less searching or even the necessity for it. her loyalty to the principles of marriage was complete like everything else in her life to which she never gave less than completeness. she always was looking for one hundred percent and nothing less would do. in later years of her life and after our marriage, nelka settled much more mentally and morally and seemed to find many of the answers she had so long been seeking. and this, not because of the external differences of life or the establishment of a marital status, but rather as the result of certain new currents of thought which came as a result of the study of theosophy and the wisdom of the east. while i cannot claim any personal influence which i may have contributed, there certainly was no divergence and thus no upsetting uncertainties. i think we were blessed in that way that we helped each other and followed largely the same path of mental analysis hand in hand. i feel and consider that i was exceptionally privileged in my life to have had such a mate, such a guide, such a helper, such a companion. she never married before because she had not found the completeness of feeling. i am grateful and happy to think that she found that completeness with me, which i hope i was able to give her at least in a measure. she gave me the complete devotion and love which she did for a very happy existence and complete understanding between us for years. i, at least, understood what a very extraordinary person she was and what a blessing had been bestowed on me for having had her for my own. nelka--a unique name for a unique person. produced from scanned images of public domain material from the google print project.) our revolution essays on working-class and international revolution, - by leon trotzky collected and translated, with biography and explanatory notes by moissaye j. olgin author of "the soul of the russian revolution" [illustration] new york henry holt and company copyright, , by henry holt and company published march, preface the world has not known us russian revolutionists. the world has sympathized with us; the world abroad has given aid and comfort to our refugees; the world, at times, even admired us; yet the world has not known us. friends of freedom in europe and america were keenly anxious to see the victory of our cause; they watched our successes and our defeats with breathless interest; yet they were concerned with material results. our views, our party affiliations, our factional divisions, our theoretical gropings, our ideological constructions, to us the leading lights in our revolutionary struggles, were foreign to the world. all this was supposed to be an internal russian affair. the revolution has now ceased to be an internal russian affair. it has become of world-wide import. it has started to influence governments and peoples. what was not long ago a theoretical dispute between two "underground" revolutionary circles, has grown into a concrete historical power determining the fate of nations. what was the individual conception of individual revolutionary leaders is now ruling millions. the world is now vitally interested in understanding russia, in learning the history of our revolution which is the history of the great russian nation for the last fifty years. this involves, however, knowing not only events, but also the development of thoughts, of aims, of ideas that underlie and direct events; gaining an insight into the immense volume of intellectual work which recent decades have accumulated in revolutionary russia. we have selected leon trotzky's contribution to revolutionary thought, not because he is now in the limelight of history, but because his conceptions represent a very definite, a clear-cut and intrinsically consistent trend of revolutionary thought, quite apart from that of other leaders. we do not agree with many of trotzky's ideas and policies, yet we cannot overlook the fact that these ideas have become predominant in the present phase of the russian revolution and that they are bound to give their stamp to russian democracy in the years to come, whether the present government remains in power or not. the reader will see that trotzky's views as applied in bolsheviki ruled russia are not of recent origin. they were formed in the course of the first russian revolution of , in which trotzky was one of the leaders. they were developed and strengthened in the following years of reaction, when many a progressive group went to seek compromises with the absolutist forces. they became particularly firm through the world war and the circumstances that led to the establishment of a republican order in russia. perhaps many a grievous misunderstanding and misinterpretation would have been avoided had thinking america known that those conceptions of trotzky were not created on the spur of the moment, but were the result of a life-long work in the service of the revolution. trotzky's writings, besides their theoretical and political value, represent a vigor of style and a clarity of expression unique in russian revolutionary literature. m.j. olgin. new york, february th, . contents page biographical notes the proletariat and the revolution the events in petersburg prospects of a labor dictatorship the soviet and the revolution preface to _my round trip_ the lessons of the great year on the eve of a revolution two faces the growing conflict war or peace? trotzky on the platform in petrograd leon trotzky biographical notes trotzky is a man of about forty. he is tall, strong, angular; his appearance as well as his speech give the impression of boldness and vigor. his voice is a high tenor ringing with metal. and even in his quiet moments he resembles a compressed spring. he is always aggressive. he is full of passion,--that white-hot, vibrating mental passion that characterizes the intellectual jew. on the platform, as well as in private life, he bears an air of peculiar importance, an indefinable something that says very distinctly: "here is a man who knows his value and feels himself chosen for superior aims." yet trotzky is not imposing. he is almost modest. he is detached. in the depths of his eyes there is a lingering sadness. it was only natural that he, a gifted college youth with a strong avidity for theoretical thinking, should have exchanged, some twenty years ago, the somber class-rooms of the university of odessa for the fresh breezes of revolutionary activity. that was the way of most gifted russian youths. that especially was the way of educated young jews whose people were being crushed under the steam-roller of the russian bureaucracy. in the last years of the nineteenth century there was hardly enough opportunity to display unusual energy in revolutionary work. small circles of picked workingmen, assembling weekly under great secrecy somewhere in a backyard cabin in a suburb, to take a course in sociology or history or economics; now and then a "mass" meeting of a few score laborers gathered in the woods; revolutionary appeals and pamphlets printed on a secret press and circulated both among the educated classes and among the people; on rare occasions, an open manifestation of revolutionary intellectuals, such as a meeting of students within the walls of the university--this was practically all that could be done in those early days of russian revolution. into this work of preparation, trotzky threw himself with all his energy. here he came into the closest contact with the masses of labor. here he acquainted himself with the psychology and aspirations of working and suffering russia. this was the rich soil of practical experience that ever since has fed his revolutionary ardor. his first period of work was short. in we find him already in solitary confinement in the prisons of odessa, devouring book after book to satisfy his mental hunger. no true revolutionist was ever made downhearted by prison, least of all trotzky, who knew it was a brief interval of enforced idleness between periods of activity. after two and a half years of prison "vacation" (as the confinement was called in revolutionary jargon) trotzky was exiled to eastern siberia, to ust-kut, on the lena river, where he arrived early in , only to seize the first opportunity to escape. again he resumed his work, dividing his time between the revolutionary committees in russia and the revolutionary colonies abroad. and were years of growth for the labor movement and of social-democratic influence over the working masses. trotzky, an uncompromising marxist, an outspoken adherent of the theory that only the revolutionary workingmen would be able to establish democracy in russia, devoted much of his energy to the task of uniting the various social-democratic circles and groups in the various cities of russia into one strong social-democratic party, with a clear program and well-defined tactics. this required a series of activities both among the local committees and in the social-democratic literature which was conveniently published abroad. it was in connection with this work that trotzky's first pamphlet was published and widely read. it was entitled: _the second convention of the russian social-democratic labor party_ (geneva, ), and dealt with the controversies between the two factions of russian social-democracy which later became known as the bolsheviki and the mensheviki. trotzky's contribution was an attempt at reconciliation between the two warring camps which professed the same marxian theory and pursued the same revolutionary aim. the attempt failed, as did many others, yet trotzky never gave up hope of uniting the alienated brothers. on the eve of the revolution of , trotzky was already a revolutionary journalist of high repute. we admired the vigor of his style, the lucidity of his thought and the straightness of his expression. articles bearing the pseudonym "n. trotzky" were an intellectual treat, and invariably aroused heated discussions. it may not be out of place to say a few words about this pseudonym. many an amazing comment has been made in the american press on the jew bronstein "camouflaging" under a russian name, trotzky. it seems to be little known in this country that to assume a pen name is a practice widely followed in russia, not only among revolutionary writers. thus "gorki" is a pseudonym; "shchedrin" (saltykov) is a pseudonym. "fyodor sologub" is a pseudonym. as to revolutionary writers, the very character of their work has compelled them to hide their names to escape the secret police. ulyanov, therefore, became "lenin," and bronstein became "trotzky." as to his "camouflaging" as a russian, this assertion is based on sheer ignorance. trotzky is not a genuine russian name--no more so than ostrovski or levine. true, there was a russian playwright ostrovski, and tolstoi gave his main figure in _anna karenin_ the name of levine. yet ostrovski and levine are well known in russia as jewish names, and so is trotzky. i have never heard of a gentile bearing the name trotzky. trotzky has never concealed his jewish nationality. he was too proud to dissimulate. pride is, perhaps, one of the dominant traits of his powerful personality. revolutionary russia did not question the race or nationality of a writer or leader. one admired trotzky's power over emotion, the depth of his convictions, the vehemence of his attacks on the opponents of the revolution. as early as , one line of his revolutionary conceptions became quite conspicuous: _his opposition to the liberal movement in russia_. in a series of essays in the social-democratic _iskra_ (_spark_), in a collection of his essays published in geneva under the title _before january ninth_, he unremittingly branded the liberals for lack of revolutionary spirit, for cowardice in face of a hateful autocracy, for failure to frame and to defend a thoroughly democratic program, for readiness to compromise with the rulers on minor concessions and thus to betray the cause of the revolution. no one else was as eloquent, as incisive in pointing out the timidity and meekness of the zemstvo opposition (zemstvo were the local representative bodies for the care of local affairs, and the liberal land owners constituted the leading party in those bodies) as the young revolutionary agitator, trotzky. trotzky's fury against the wavering policy of the well-to-do liberals was only a manifestation of another trait of his character: _his desire for clarity in political affairs_. trotzky could not conceive of half-way measures, of "diplomatic" silence over vital topics, of cunning moves and concealed designs in political struggles. the attitude of a milukov, criticizing the government and yet willing to acquiesce in a monarchy of a prussian brand, criticizing the revolutionists and yet secretly pleased with the horror they inflicted upon romanoff and his satellites, was simply incompatible with trotzky's very nature and aroused his impassioned contempt. to him, black was always black, and white was white, and political conceptions ought to be so clear as to find adequate expression in a few simple phrases. trotzky's own political line was the revolution--a violent uprising of the masses, headed by organized labor, forcibly to overthrow bureaucracy and establish democratic freedom. with what an outburst of blazing joy he greeted the upheaval of january , --the first great mass-movement in russia with clear political aims: "the revolution has come!" he shouted in an ecstatic essay completed on january th. "the revolution has come. one move of hers has lifted the people over scores of steps, up which in times of peace we would have had to drag ourselves with hardships and fatigue. the revolution has come and destroyed the plans of so many politicians who had dared to make their little political calculations with no regard for the master, the revolutionary people. the revolution has come and destroyed scores of superstitions, and has manifested the power of the program which is founded on the revolutionary logic of the development of the masses.... the revolution has come and the period of our infancy has passed." the revolution filled the entire year of with the battle cries of ever-increasing revolutionary masses. the political strike became a powerful weapon. the village revolts spread like wild-fire. the government became frightened. it was under the sign of this great conflagration that trotzky framed his theory of _immediate transition from absolutism to a socialist order_. his line of argument was very simple. the working class, he wrote, was the only real revolutionary power. the bourgeoisie was weak and incapable of adroit resistance. the intellectual groups were of no account. the peasantry was politically primitive, yet it had an overwhelming desire for land. "once the revolution is victorious, political power necessarily passes into the hands of the class that has played a leading rôle in the struggle, and that is the working class." to secure permanent power, the working class would have to win over the millions of peasants. this would be possible by recognizing all the agrarian changes completed by the peasants in time of the revolution and by a radical agrarian legislation. "once in power, the proletariat will appear before the peasantry as its liberator." on the other hand, having secured its class rule over russia, why should the proletariat help to establish parliamentary rule, which is the rule of the bourgeois classes over the people? "to imagine that social-democracy participates in the provisional government, playing a leading rôle in the period of revolutionary democratic reconstruction, insisting on the most radical reforms and all the time enjoying the aid and support of the organized proletariat,--only to step aside when the democratic program is put into operation, to leave the completed building at the disposal of the bourgeois parties and thus to open an era of parliamentary politics where social-democracy forms only a party of opposition,--to imagine this would mean to compromise the very idea of a labor government." moreover, "once the representatives of the proletariat enter the government, not as powerless hostages, but as a leading force, the divide between the minimum-program and the maximum-program automatically disappears, collectivism becomes the order of the day," since "political supremacy of the proletariat is incompatible with its economic slavery." it was precisely the same program which trotzky is at present attempting to put into operation. this program has been his guiding star for the last twelve years. in the fall of it looked as if trotzky's hope was near its realization. the october strike brought autocracy to its knees. a constitution was promised. a soviet (council of workmen's deputies) was formed in petersburg to conduct the revolution. trotzky became one of the strongest leaders of the council. it was in those months that we became fully aware of two qualities of trotzky's which helped him to master men: his power as a speaker, and his ability to write short, stirring articles comprehensible to the masses. in the latter ability nobody equals him among russian socialists. the leaders of russian social-democracy were wont to address themselves to the intellectual readers. socialist writers of the early period of the revolution were seldom confronted with the necessity of writing for plain people. trotzky was the best among the few who, in the stormy months of the revolution, were able to appeal to the masses in brief, strong, yet dignified articles full of thought, vision, and emotion. the soviet was struggling in a desperate situation. autocracy had promised freedom, yet military rule was becoming ever more atrocious. the sluices of popular revolutionary movement were open, yet revolutionary energy was being gradually exhausted. the soviet acted as a true revolutionary government, ignoring the government of the romanoffs, giving orders to the workingmen of the country, keeping a watchful eye on political events; yet the government of the old régime was regaining its self-confidence and preparing for a final blow. the air was full of bad omens. it required an unusual degree of revolutionary faith and vigor to conduct the affairs of the soviet. trotzky was the man of the hour. first a member of the executive committee, then the chairman of the soviet, he was practically in the very vortex of the revolution. he addressed meetings, he ordered strikes, he provided the vanguard of the workingmen with firearms; he held conferences with representatives of labor unions throughout the country, and--the irony of history--he repeatedly appeared before the ministers of the old régime as a representative of labor democracy to demand from them the release of a prisoner or the abolition of some measures obnoxious to labor. it was in this school of the soviet that trotzky learned to see events in a national aspect, and it was the very existence of the soviet which confirmed his belief in the possibility of a revolutionary proletarian dictatorship. looking backward at the activities of the soviet, he thus characterized that prototype of the present revolutionary government in russia. "the soviet," he wrote, "was the organized authority of the masses themselves over their separate members. this was a true, unadulterated democracy, without a two-chamber system, without a professional bureaucracy, with the right of the voters to recall their representative at will and to substitute another." in short, it was the same type of democracy trotzky and lenin are trying to make permanent in present-day russia. the black storm soon broke loose. trotzky was arrested with the other members of the "revolutionary government," after the soviet had existed for about a month and a half. trotzky went to prison, not in despair, but as a leader of an invincible army which though it had suffered temporary defeat, was bound to win. trotzky had to wait twelve years for the moment of triumph, yet the moment came. in prison trotzky was very active, reading, writing, trying to sum up his experience of the revolutionary year. after twelve months of solitary confinement he was tried and sentenced to life exile in siberia: the government of the enemies of the people was wreaking vengeance on the first true representatives of the people. on january , , trotzky started his trip for obdorsk, in northern siberia on the arctic ocean. he was under unusual rigid surveillance even for russian prisons. each movement of his and of his comrades was carefully guarded. no communication with the outer world was permitted. the very journey was surrounded by great secrecy. yet such was the fame of the soviet, that crowds gathered at every station to greet the prisoners' train, and even the soldiers showed extraordinary respect for the imprisoned "workingmen's deputies" as they called them. "we are surrounded by friends on every side," trotzky wrote in his note book. in tiumen the prisoners had to leave the railway train for sleighs drawn by horses. the journey became very tedious and slow. the monotony was broken only by little villages, where revolutionary exiles were detained. here and there the exiles would gather to welcome the leaders of the revolution. red flags gave touches of color to the blinding white of the siberian snow. "long live the revolution!" was printed with huge letters on the surface of the northern snow, along the road. this was beautiful, but it gave little consolation. the country became ever more desolate. "every day we move down one step into the kingdom of cold and wilderness," trotzky remarked in his notes. it was a gloomy prospect, to spend years and years in this god forsaken country. trotzky was not the man to submit. in defiance of difficulties, he managed to escape before he reached the town of his destination. as there was only one road along which travelers could move, and as there was danger that authorities, notified by wire of his escape, could stop him at any moment, he left the road and on a sleigh drawn by reindeer he crossed an unbroken wilderness of versts, over miles. this required great courage and physical endurance. the picturesque journey is described by trotzky in a beautiful little book, _my round trip_. it was in this ostiak sleigh, in the midst of a bleak desert, that he celebrated the th of february, the day of the opening of the second duma. it was a mockery at russia: here, the representatives of the people, assembled in the quasi-parliament of russia; there, a representative of the revolution that created the duma, hiding like a criminal in a bleak wilderness. did he dream in those long hours of his journey, that some day the wave of the revolution would bring him to the very top? early in spring he arrived abroad. he established his home in vienna where he lived till the outbreak of the great war. his time and energy were devoted to the internal affairs of the social-democratic party and to editing a popular revolutionary magazine which was being smuggled into russia. he earned a meager living by contributing to russian "legal" magazines and dailies. i met him first in , in stuttgart. he seemed to be deeply steeped in the revolutionary factional squabbles. again i met him in copenhagen in . he was the target of bitter criticism for his press-comment on one of the social-democratic factions. he seemed to be dead to anything but the problem of reconciling the bolsheviki with the mensheviki and the other minor divisions. yet that air of importance which distinguished him even from the famous old leaders had, in , become more apparent. by this time he was already a well-known and respected figure in the ranks of international socialism. in the fall of he went into the balkans as a war correspondent. there he learned to know the balkan situation from authentic sources. his revelations of the atrocities committed on both sides attracted wide attention. when he came back to vienna in he was a stronger internationalist and a stronger anti-militarist than ever. his house in vienna was a poor man's house, poorer than that of an ordinary american workingman earning eighteen dollars a week. trotzky has been poor all his life. his three rooms in a vienna working-class suburb contained less furniture than was necessary for comfort. his clothes were too cheap to make him appear "decent" in the eyes of a middle-class viennese. when i visited his house i found mrs. trotzky engaged in housework, while the two light-haired lovely boys were lending not inconsiderable assistance. the only thing that cheered the house were loads of books in every corner, and, perhaps, great though hidden hopes. on august , , the trotzkys, as enemy aliens, had to leave vienna for zurich, switzerland. trotzky's attitude towards the war was a very definite one from the very beginning. he accused german social-democracy for having voted the war credits and thus endorsed the war. he accused the socialist parties of all the belligerent countries for having concluded a truce with their governments which in his opinion was equivalent to supporting militarism. he bitterly deplored the collapse of internationalism as a great calamity for the emancipation of the world. yet, even in those times of distress, he did not remain inactive. he wrote a pamphlet to the german workingmen entitled _the war and internationalism_ (recently translated into english and published in this country under the title _the bolsheviki and world peace_) which was illegally transported into germany and austria by aid of swiss socialists. for this attempt to enlighten the workingmen, one of the german courts tried him in a state of contumacy and sentenced him to imprisonment. he also contributed to a russian socialist daily of internationalist aspirations which was being published by russian exiles in paris. later he moved to paris to be in closer contact with that paper. due to his radical views on the war, however, he was compelled to leave france. he went to spain, but the spanish government, though not at war, did not allow him to stay in that country. he was himself convinced that the hand of the russian foreign ministry was in all his hardships. so it happened that in the winter - , he came to the united states. when i met him here, he looked haggard; he had grown older, and there was fatigue in his expression. his conversation hinged around the collapse of international socialism. he thought it shameful and humiliating that the socialist majorities of the belligerent countries had turned "social-patriots." "if not for the minorities of the socialist parties, the true socialists, it would not be worth while living," he said once with deep sadness. still, he strongly believed in the internationalizing spirit of the war itself, and expected humanity to become more democratic and more sound after cessation of hostilities. his belief in an impending russian revolution was unshaken. similarly unshaken was his mistrust of the russian non-socialist parties. on january , , less than two months before the overthrow of the romanoffs, he wrote in a local russian paper: "whoever thinks critically over the experience of , whoever draws a line from that year to the present day, must conceive how utterly lifeless and ridiculous are the hopes of our social-patriots for a revolutionary coöperation between the proletariat and the liberal bourgeoisie in russia." his demand for _clarity_ in political affairs had become more pronounced during the war and through the distressing experiences of the war. "there are times," he wrote on february , , "when diplomatic evasiveness, casting glances with one eye to the right, with the other to the left, is considered wisdom. such times are now vanishing before our eyes, and their heroes are losing credit. war, as revolution, puts problems in their clearest form. for war or against war? for national defense or for revolutionary struggle? the fierce times we are living now demand in equal measure both fearlessness of thought and bravery of character." when the russian revolution broke out, it was no surprise for trotzky. he had anticipated it. he had scented it over the thousands of miles that separated him from his country. he did not allow his joy to overmaster him. the march revolution in his opinion was only a beginning. it was only an introduction to a long drawn fight which would end in the establishment of socialism. history seemed to him to have fulfilled what he had predicted in and . the working class was the leading power in the revolution. the soviets became even more powerful than the provisional government. trotzky preached that it was the task of the soviets to become _the_ government of russia. it was his task to go to russia and fight for a labor government, for internationalism, for world peace, for a world revolution. "if the first russian revolution of ," he wrote on march th, "brought about revolutions in asia,--in persia, turkey, china,--the second russian revolution will be the beginning of a momentous social-revolutionary struggle in europe. only this struggle will bring real peace to the blood-drenched world." with these hopes he went to russia,--to forge a socialist russia in the fire of the revolution. whatever may be our opinion of the merits of his policies, the man has remained true to himself. his line has been straight. the proletariat and the revolution the essay _the proletariat and the revolution_ was published at the close of , nearly one year after the beginning of the war with japan. this was a crucial year for the autocratic rulers of russia. it started with patriotic demonstrations, it ended with a series of humiliating defeats on the battlefields and with an unprecedented revival of political activities on the part of the well-to-do classes. the zemstvos (local elective bodies for the care of local affairs) headed by liberal landowners, conducted a vigorous political campaign in favor of a constitutional order. other liberal groups, organizations of professionals (referred to in trotzky's essay as "democrats" and "democratic elements") joined in the movement. the zemstvo leaders called an open convention in petersburg (november th), which demanded civic freedom and a constitution. the "democratic elements" organized public gatherings of a political character under the disguise of private banquets. the liberal press became bolder in its attack on the administration. the government tolerated the movement. prince svyatopolk-mirski, who had succeeded von plehve, the reactionary dictator assassinated in july, , by a revolutionist, had promised "cordial relations" between government and society. in the political jargon, this period of tolerance, lasting from august to the end of the year, was known as the era of "spring." it was a thrilling time, full of political hopes and expectation. yet, strange enough, the working class was silent. the working class had shown great dissatisfaction in and especially in summer, , when scores of thousands in the southwest and in the south went on a political strike. during the whole of , however, there were almost no mass-manifestations on the part of the workingmen. this gave an occasion to many a liberal to scoff at the representatives of the revolutionary parties who built all their tactics on the expectation of a national revolution. to answer those skeptics and to encourage the active members of the social-democratic party, trotzky wrote his essay. its main value, which lends it historic significance, is the clear diagnosis of the political situation. though living abroad, trotzky keenly felt the pulse of the masses, the "pent up revolutionary energy" which was seeking for an outlet. his description of the course of a national revolution, the rôle he attributes to the workingmen, the non-proletarian population of the cities, the educated groups, and the army; his estimation of the influence of the war on the minds of the raw masses; finally, the slogans he puts before the revolution,--all this corresponds exactly to what happened during the stormy year of . reading _the proletariat and the revolution_, the student of russian political life has a feeling as if the essay had been written _after_ the revolution, so closely it follows the course of events. yet, it appeared before january th, , i.e., before the first great onslaught of the petersburg proletariat. trotzky's belief in the revolutionary initiative of the working class could not be expressed in a more lucid manner. the proletariat must not only conduct a revolutionary propaganda. the proletariat itself must move towards a revolution. to move towards a revolution does not necessarily mean to fix a date for an insurrection and to prepare for that day. you never can fix a day and an hour for a revolution. the people have never made a revolution by command. what _can_ be done is, in view of the fatally impending catastrophe, to choose the most appropriate positions, to arm and inspire the masses with a revolutionary slogan, to lead simultaneously all the reserves into the field of battle, to make them practice in the art of fighting, to keep them ready under arms,--and to send an alarm all over the lines when the time has arrived. would that mean a series of exercises only, and not a decisive combat with the enemy forces? would that be mere manoeuvers, and not a street revolution? yes, that would be mere manoeuvers. there is a difference, however, between revolutionary and military manoeuvers. our preparations can turn, at any time and independent of our will, into a real battle which would decide the long drawn revolutionary war. not only can it be so, it _must_ be. this is vouched for by the acuteness of the present political situation which holds in its depths a tremendous amount of revolutionary explosives. at what time mere manoeuvers would turn into a real battle, depends upon the volume and the revolutionary compactness of the masses, upon the atmosphere of popular sympathy which surrounds them and upon the attitude of the troops which the government moves against the people. those three elements of success must determine our work of preparation. revolutionary proletarian masses _are_ in existence. we ought to be able to call them into the streets, at a given time, all over the country; we ought to be able to unite them by a general slogan. all classes and groups of the people are permeated with hatred towards absolutism, and that means with sympathy for the struggle for freedom. we ought to be able to concentrate this sympathy on the proletariat as a revolutionary power which alone can be the vanguard of the people in their fight to save the future of russia. as to the mood of the army, it hardly kindles the heart of the government with great hopes. there has been many an alarming symptom for the last few years; the army is morose, the army grumbles, there are ferments of dissatisfaction in the army. we ought to do all at our command to make the army detach itself from absolutism at the time of a decisive onslaught of the masses. let us first survey the last two conditions, which determine the course and the outcome of the campaign. we have just gone through the period of "political renovation" opened under the blare of trumpets and closed under the hiss of knouts,--the era of svyatopolk-mirski--the result of which is hatred towards absolutism aroused among all the thinking elements of society to an unusual pitch. the coming days will reap the fruit of stirred popular hopes and unfulfilled government's pledges. political interest has lately taken more definite shape; dissatisfaction has grown deeper and is founded on a more outspoken theoretical basis. popular thinking, yesterday utterly primitive, now greedily takes to the work of political analysis. all manifestations of evil and arbitrary power are being speedily traced back to the principal cause. revolutionary slogans no more frighten the people; on the contrary, they arouse a thousandfold echo, they pass into proverbs. the popular consciousness absorbs each word of negation, condemnation or curse addressed towards absolutism, as a sponge absorbs fluid substance. no step of the administration remains unpunished. each of its blunders is carefully taken account of. its advances are met with ridicule, its threats breed hatred. the vast apparatus of the liberal press circulates daily thousands of facts, stirring, exciting, inflaming popular emotion. the pent up feelings are seeking an outlet. thought strives to turn into action. the vociferous liberal press, however, while feeding popular unrest, tends to divert its current into a small channel; it spreads superstitious reverence for "public opinion," helpless, unorganized "public opinion," which does not discharge itself into action; it brands the revolutionary method of national emancipation; it upholds the illusion of legality; it centers all the attention and all the hopes of the embittered groups around the zemstvo campaign, thus systematically preparing a great debacle for the popular movement. acute dissatisfaction, finding no outlet, discouraged by the inevitable failure of the legal zemstvo campaign which has no traditions of revolutionary struggle in the past and no clear prospects in the future, must necessarily manifest itself in an outbreak of desperate terrorism, leaving radical intellectuals in the rôle of helpless, passive, though sympathetic onlookers, leaving liberals to choke in a fit of platonic enthusiasm while lending doubtful assistance. this ought not to take place. we ought to take hold of the current of popular excitement; we ought to turn the attention of numerous dissatisfied social groups to one colossal undertaking headed by the proletariat,--to the _national revolution_. the vanguard of the revolution ought to wake from indolence all other elements of the people; to appear here and there and everywhere; to put the questions of political struggle in the boldest possible fashion; to call, to castigate, to unmask hypocritical democracy; to make democrats and zemstvo liberals clash against each other; to wake again and again, to call, to castigate, to demand a clear answer to the question, _what are you going to do?_ to allow no retreat; to compel the legal liberals to admit their own weakness; to alienate from them the democratic elements and help the latter along the way of the revolution. to do this work means to draw the threads of sympathy of all the democratic opposition towards the revolutionary campaign of the proletariat. we ought to do all in our power to draw the attention and gain the sympathy of the poor non-proletarian city population. during the last mass actions of the proletariat, as in the general strikes of in the south, nothing was done in this respect, and this was the weakest point of the preparatory work. according to press correspondents, the queerest rumors often circulated among the population as to the intentions of the strikers. the city inhabitants expected attacks on their houses, the store keepers were afraid of being looted, the jews were in a dread of pogroms. this ought to be avoided. _a political strike, as a single combat of the city proletariat with the police and the army, the remaining population being hostile or even indifferent, is doomed to failure._ the indifference of the population would tell primarily on the morale of the proletariat itself, and then on the attitude of the soldiers. under such conditions, the stand of the administration must necessarily be more determined. the generals would remind the officers, and the officers would pass to the soldiers the words of dragomirov: "rifles are given for sharp shooting, and nobody is permitted to squander cartridges for nothing." _a political strike of the proletariat ought to turn into a political demonstration of the population_, this is the first prerequisite of success. the second important prerequisite is the mood of the army. a dissatisfaction among the soldiers, a vague sympathy for the "revoluters," is an established fact. only part of this sympathy may rightly be attributed to our direct propaganda among the soldiers. the major part is done by the practical clashes between army units and protesting masses. only hopeless idiots or avowed scoundrels dare to shoot at a living target. an overwhelming majority of the soldiers are loathe to serve as executioners; this is unanimously admitted by all correspondents describing the battles of the army with unarmed people. the average soldier aims above the heads of the crowd. it would be unnatural if the reverse were the case. when the bessarabian regiment received orders to quell the kiev general strike, the commander declared he could not vouch for the attitude of his soldiers. the order, then, was sent to the cherson regiment, but there was not one half-company in the entire regiment which would live up to the expectations of their superiors. kiev was no exception. the conditions of the army must now be more favorable for the revolution than they were in . we have gone through a year of war. it is hardly possible to measure the influence of the past year on the minds of the army. the influence, however, must be enormous. war draws not only the attention of the people, it arouses also the professional interest of the army. our ships are slow, our guns have a short range, our soldiers are uneducated, our sergeants have neither compass nor map, our soldiers are bare-footed, hungry, and freezing, our red cross is stealing, our commissariat is stealing,--rumors and facts of this kind leak down to the army and are being eagerly absorbed. each rumor, as strong acid, dissolves the rust of mental drill. years of peaceful propaganda could hardly equal in their results one day of warfare. the mere mechanism of discipline remains, the faith, however, the conviction that it is right to carry out orders, the belief that the present conditions can be continued, are rapidly dwindling. the less faith the army has in absolutism, the more faith it has in its foes. we ought to make use of this situation. we ought to explain to the soldiers the meaning of the workingmen's action which is being prepared by the party. we ought to make profuse use of the slogan which is bound to unite the army with the revolutionary people, _away with the war!_ we ought to create a situation where the officers would not be able to trust their soldiers at the crucial moment. this would reflect on the attitude of the officers themselves. the rest will be done by the street. it will dissolve the remnants of the barrack-hypnosis in the revolutionary enthusiasm of the people. the main factor, however, remain the revolutionary masses. true it is that during the war the most advanced elements of the masses, the thinking proletariat, have not stepped openly to the front with that degree of determination which was required by the critical historic moment. yet it would manifest a lack of political backbone and a deplorable superficiality, should one draw from this fact any kind of pessimistic conclusions. the war has fallen upon our public life with all its colossal weight. the dreadful monster, breathing blood and fire, loomed up on the political horizon, shutting out everything, sinking its steel clutches into the body of the people, inflicting wound upon wound, causing mortal pain, which for a moment makes it even impossible to ask for the causes of the pain. the war, as every great disaster, accompanied by crisis, unemployment, mobilization, hunger and death, stunned the people, caused despair, but not protest. this is, however, only a beginning. raw masses of the people, silent social strata, which yesterday had no connection with the revolutionary elements, were knocked by sheer mechanical power of facts to face the central event of present-day russia, the war. they were horrified, they could not catch their breaths. the revolutionary elements, who prior to the war had ignored the passive masses, were affected by the atmosphere of despair and concentrated horror. this atmosphere enveloped them, it pressed with a leaden weight on their minds. the voice of determined protest could hardly be raised in the midst of elemental suffering. the revolutionary proletariat which had not yet recovered from the wounds received in july, , was powerless to oppose the "call of the primitive." the year of war, however, passed not without results. masses, yesterday primitive, to-day are confronted with the most tremendous events. they must seek to understand them. the very duration of the war has produced a desire for reasoning, for questioning as to the meaning of it all. thus the war, while hampering for a period of time the revolutionary initiative of thousands, has awakened to life the political thought of millions. the year of war passed not without results, not a single day passed without results. in the lower strata of the people, in the very depths of the masses, a work was going on, a movement of molecules, imperceptible, yet irresistible, incessant, a work of accumulating indignation, bitterness, revolutionary energy. the atmosphere our streets are breathing now is no longer an atmosphere of blank despair, it is an atmosphere of concentrated indignation which seeks for means and ways for revolutionary action. each expedient action of the vanguard of our working masses would now carry away with it not only all our revolutionary reserves, but also thousands and hundreds of thousands of revolutionary recruits. this mobilization, unlike the mobilization of the government, would be carried out in the presence of general sympathy and active assistance of an overwhelming majority of the population. in the presence of strong sympathies of the masses, in the presence of active assistance on the part of the democratic elements of the people; facing a government commonly hated, unsuccessful both in big and in small undertakings, a government defeated on the seas, defeated in the fields of battle, despised, discouraged, with no faith in the coming day, a government vainly struggling, currying favor, provoking and retreating, lying and suffering exposure, insolent and frightened; facing an army whose morale has been shattered by the entire course of the war, whose valor, energy, enthusiasm and heroism have met an insurmountable wall in the form of administrative anarchy, an army which has lost faith in the unshakable security of a régime it is called to serve, a dissatisfied, grumbling army which more than once has torn itself free from the clutches of discipline during the last year and which is eagerly listening to the roar of revolutionary voices,--such will be the conditions under which the revolutionary proletariat will walk out into the streets. it seems to us that no better conditions could have been created by history for a final attack. history has done everything it was allowed by elemental wisdom. the thinking revolutionary forces of the country have to do the rest. a tremendous amount of revolutionary energy has been accumulated. it should not vanish with no avail, it should not be dissipated in scattered engagements and clashes, with no coherence and no definite plan. all efforts ought to be made to concentrate the bitterness, the anger, the protest, the rage, the hatred of the masses, to give those emotions a common language, a common goal, to unite, to solidify all the particles of the masses, to make them feel and understand that they are not isolated, that simultaneously, with the same slogan on the banner, with the same goal in mind, innumerable particles are rising everywhere. if this understanding is achieved, half of the revolution is done. we have got to summon all revolutionary forces to simultaneous action. how can we do it? first of all we ought to remember that the main scene of revolutionary events is bound to be the city. nobody is likely to deny this. it is evident, further, that street demonstrations can turn into a popular revolution only when they are a manifestation of _masses_, i.e., when they embrace, in the first place, the workers of factories and plants. to make the workers quit their machines and stands; to make them walk out of the factory premises into the street; to lead them to the neighboring plant; to proclaim there a cessation of work; to make new masses walk out into the street; to go thus from factory to factory, from plant to plant, incessantly growing in numbers, sweeping police barriers, absorbing new masses that happened to come across, crowding the streets, taking possession of buildings suitable for popular meetings, fortifying those buildings, holding continuous revolutionary meetings with audiences coming and going, bringing order into the movements of the masses, arousing their spirit, explaining to them the aim and the meaning of what is going on; to turn, finally, the entire city into one revolutionary camp, this is, broadly speaking, the plan of action. the starting point ought to be the factories and plants. that means that street manifestations of a serious character, fraught with decisive events, ought to begin with _political strikes of the masses_. it is easier to fix a date for a strike, than for a demonstration of the people, just as it is easier to move masses ready for action than to organize new masses. a political strike, however, not a _local, but a general political strike all over russia_,--ought to have a general political slogan. this slogan is: _to stop the war and to call a national constituent assembly_. this demand ought to become nation-wide, and herein lies the task for our propaganda preceding the all-russian general strike. we ought to use all possible occasions to make the idea of a national constituent assembly popular among the people. without losing one moment, we ought to put into operation all the technical means and all the powers of propaganda at our disposal. proclamations and speeches, educational circles and mass-meetings ought to carry broadcast, to propound and to explain the demand of a constituent assembly. there ought to be not one man in a city who should not know that his demand is: a national constituent assembly. the peasants ought to be called to assemble on the day of the political strike and to pass resolutions demanding the calling of a constituent assembly. the suburban peasants ought to be called into the cities to participate in the street movements of the masses gathered under the banner of a constituent assembly. all societies and organizations, professional and learned bodies, organs of self-government and organs of the opposition press ought to be notified in advance by the workingmen that they are preparing for an all-russian political strike, fixed for a certain date, to bring about the calling of a constituent assembly. the workingmen ought to demand from all societies and corporations that, on the day appointed for the mass-manifestation, they should join in the demand of a national constituent assembly. the workingmen ought to demand from the opposition press that it should popularize their slogan and that on the eve of the demonstration it should print an appeal to the population to join the proletarian manifestation under the banner of a national constituent assembly. we ought to carry on the most intensive propaganda in the army in order that on the day of the strike each soldier, sent to curb the "rebels," should know that he is facing the people who are demanding a national constituent assembly. explanatory notes "_the hiss of the knout_" which ended the era of "cordial relations" was a statement issued by the government on december , , declaring that "all disturbances of peace and order and all gatherings of an anti-governmental character must and will be stopped by all legal means in command of the authorities." the zemstvo and municipal bodies were advised to keep from political utterings. as to the socialist parties, and to labor movement in general, they were prosecuted under svyatopolk-mirski as severely as under von plehve. "_the vast apparatus of the liberal press_" was the only way to reach millions. the revolutionary "underground" press, which assumed towards unusual proportions, could, after all, reach only a limited number of readers. in times of political unrest, the public became used to read between the lines of the legal press all it needed to feed its hatred of oppression. by "_legal_" _press_, "_legal_" _liberals_ are meant the open public press and those liberals who were trying to comply with the legal requirements of absolutism even in their work of condemning the absolutist order. the term "legal" is opposed by the term "revolutionary" which is applied to political actions in defiance of law. _dragomirov_ was for many years commander of the kiev military region and known by his epigrammatic style. the events in petersburg this is an essay of triumph. written on january , , eleven days after the "bloody sunday," it gave vent to the enthusiastic feelings of every true revolutionist aroused by unmistakable signs of an approaching storm. the march of tens of thousands of workingmen to the winter palace to submit to the "little father" a petition asking for "bread and freedom," was on the surface a peaceful and loyal undertaking. yet it breathed indignation and revolt. the slaughter of peaceful marchers (of whom over , were killed or wounded) and the following wave of hatred and revolutionary determination among the masses, marked the beginning of broad revolutionary uprisings. for trotzky, the awakening of the masses to political activity was not only a good revolutionary omen, but also a defeat of liberal ideology and liberal tactics. those tactics had been planned under the assumption that the russian people were not ripe for a revolution. trotzky, a thorough revolutionist, _saw_ in the liberal movement a manifestation of political superstitions. to him, the _only_ way to overthrow absolutism was the way of a violent revolution. yet, when the liberals proudly asserted that the revolutionary masses of russia were only a creation of the overheated phantasy of the revolutionists, while the movement of the well-to-do intelligent elements was a flagrant fact, the social-democrats had no material proofs to the contrary, except sporadic outbursts of unrest among the workingmen and, of course, the conviction of those revolutionists who were in touch with the masses. it is, therefore, easy to understand the triumph of a trotzky or any other socialist after january th. in trotzky's opinion, the th of january had put liberalism into the archives. "we are done with it for the entire period of the revolution," he exclaims. the most remarkable part of this essay, as far as political vision is concerned, is trotzky's prediction that the left wing of the "osvoboshdenie" liberals (later organized as the constitutional democratic party) would attempt to become leaders of the revolutionary masses and to "tame" them. the liberals did not fail to make the attempt in and , but with no success whatever. neither did social-democracy, however, completely succeed in leading the masses all through the revolution, in the manner outlined by trotzky in this essay. true, the social-democrats were the party that gained the greatest influence over the workingmen in the stormy year of ; their slogans were universally accepted by the masses; their members were everywhere among the first ranks of revolutionary forces; yet events developed too rapidly and spontaneously to make the leadership of a political organization possible. how invincibly eloquent are facts! how utterly powerless are words! the masses have made themselves heard! they have kindled revolutionary flames on caucasian hill-tops; they have clashed, breast against breast, with the guards' regiments and the cossacks on that unforgettable day of january ninth; they have filled the streets and squares of industrial cities with the noise and clatter of their fights.... the revolutionary masses are no more a theory, they are a fact. for the social-democratic party there is nothing new in this fact. we had predicted it long ago. we had seen its coming at a time when the noisy liberal banquets seemed to form a striking contrast with the political silence of the people. _the revolutionary masses are a fact_, was our assertion. the clever liberals shrugged their shoulders in contempt. those gentlemen think themselves sober realists solely because they are unable to grasp the consequences of great causes, because they make it their business to be humble servants of each ephemeral political fact. they think themselves sober statesmen in spite of the fact that history mocks at their wisdom, tearing to pieces their school books, making to naught their designs, and magnificently laughing at their pompous predictions. "_there are no revolutionary people in russia as yet._" "_the russian workingman is backward in culture, in self-respect, and (we refer primarily to the workingmen of petersburg and moscow) he is not yet prepared for organized social and political struggle._" thus mr. struve wrote in his _osvoboshdenie_. he wrote it on january th, . two days later the proletariat of petersburg arose. "_there are no revolutionary people in russia as yet._" these words ought to have been engraved on the forehead of mr. struve were it not that mr. struve's forehead already resembles a tombstone under which so many plans, slogans, and ideas have been buried,--socialist, liberal, "patriotic," revolutionary, monarchic, democratic and other ideas, all of them calculated not to run too far ahead and all of them hopelessly dragging behind. "_there are no revolutionary people in russia as yet_," so it was declared through the mouth of _osvoboshdenie_ by russian liberalism which in the course of three months had succeeded in convincing itself that liberalism was the main figure on the political stage and that its program and tactics would determine the future of russia. before this declaration had reached its readers, the wires carried into the remotest corners of the world the great message of the beginning of a national revolution in russia. yes, the revolution has begun. we had hoped for it, we had had no doubt about it. for long years, however, it had been to us a mere deduction from our "doctrine," which all nonentities of all political denominations had mocked at. they never believed in the revolutionary rôle of the proletariat, yet they believed in the power of zemstvo petitions, in witte, in "blocs" combining naughts with naughts, in svyatopolk-mirski, in a stick of dynamite.... there was no political superstition they did not believe in. only the belief in the proletariat to them was a superstition. history, however, does not question political oracles, and the revolutionary people do not need a passport from political eunuchs. the revolution has come. one move of hers has lifted the people over scores of steps, up which in times of peace we would have had to drag ourselves with hardships and fatigue. the revolution has come and destroyed the plans of so many politicians who had dared to make their little political calculations with no regard for the master, the revolutionary people. the revolution has come and destroyed scores of superstitions, and has manifested the power of the program which is founded on the revolutionary logic of the development of the masses. the revolution has come, and the period of our political infancy has passed. down to the archives went our traditional liberalism whose only resource was the belief in a lucky change of administrative figures. its period of bloom was the stupid reign of svyatopolk-mirski. its ripest fruit was the ukase of december th. but now, january ninth has come and effaced the "spring," and has put military dictatorship in its place, and has promoted to the rank of governor-general of petersburg the same trepov, who just before had been pulled down from the post of moscow chief of police by the same liberal opposition. that liberalism which did not care to know about the revolution, which hatched plots behind the scenes, which ignored the masses, which counted only on its diplomatic genius, has been swept away. _we are done with it for the entire period of the revolution._ the liberals of the left wing will now follow the people. they will soon attempt to take the people into their own hands. the people are a power. one must _master_ them. but they are, too, a _revolutionary_ power. one, therefore, must _tame_ them. this is, evidently, the future tactics of the _osvoboshdenie_ group. our fight for a revolution, our preparatory work for the revolution must also be our merciless fight against liberalism for influence over the masses, for a leading rôle in the revolution. in this fight we shall be supported by a great power, the very logic of the revolution! the revolution has come. the _forms_ taken by the uprising of january th could not have been foreseen. a revolutionary priest, in perplexing manner placed by history at the head of the working masses for several days, lent the events the stamp of his personality, his conceptions, his rank. this form may mislead many an observer as to the real substance of the events. the actual meaning of the events, however, is just that which social-democracy foresaw. the central figure is the proletariat. the workingmen start a strike, they unite, they formulate political demands, they walk out into the streets, they win the enthusiastic sympathy of the entire population, they engage in battles with the army.... the hero, gapon, has not created the revolutionary energy of the petersburg workingmen, he only unloosed it. he found thousands of thinking workingmen and tens of thousands of others in a state of political agitation. he formed a plan which united all those masses--for the period of one day. the masses went to speak to the tzar. they were faced by ulans, cossacks, guards. gapon's plan had not prepared the workingmen for that. what was the result? they seized arms wherever they could, they built barricades.... they fought, though, apparently, they went to beg for mercy. this shows that they went _not to beg, but to demand_. the proletariat of petersburg manifested a degree of political alertness and revolutionary energy far exceeding the limits of the plan laid out by a casual leader. gapon's plan contained many elements of revolutionary romanticism. on january th, the plan collapsed. yet the revolutionary proletariat of petersburg is no romanticism, it is a living reality. so is the proletariat of other cities. an enormous wave is rolling over russia. it has not yet quieted down. one shock, and the proletarian crater will begin to erupt torrents of revolutionary lava. the proletariat has arisen. it has chosen an incidental pretext and a casual leader--a self-sacrificing priest. that seemed enough to start with. it was not enough to _win_. _victory_ demands not a romantic method based on an illusory plan, but revolutionary tactics. _a simultaneous action of the proletariat of all russia must be prepared._ this is the first condition. no local demonstration has a serious political significance any longer. after the petersburg uprising, only an all-russian uprising should take place. scattered outbursts would only consume the precious revolutionary energy with no results. wherever spontaneous outbursts occur, as a late echo of the petersburg uprising, _they must be made use of to revolutionize and to solidify the masses, to popularize among them the idea of an all-russian uprising_ as a task of the approaching months, perhaps only weeks. this is not the place to discuss the technique of a popular uprising. the questions of revolutionary technique can be solved only in a practical way, under the live pressure of struggle and under constant communication with the active members of the party. there is no doubt, however, that the technical problems of organizing a popular uprising assume at present tremendous importance. those problems demand the collective attention of the party. [trotzky then proceeds to discuss the question of armament, arsenals, clashes with army units, barricades, etc. then he continues:] as stated before, these questions ought to be solved by local organizations. of course, this is only a minor task as compared with the political leadership of the masses. yet, this task is most essential for the political leadership itself. the organization of the revolution becomes at present the axis of the political leadership of revolting masses. what are the requirements for this leadership? a few very simple things: freedom from routine in matters of organization; freedom from miserable traditions of underground conspiracy; a broad view; courageous initiative; ability to gauge situations; courageous initiative once more. the events of january th have given us a revolutionary beginning. we must never fall below this. we must make this our starting point in moving the revolution forward. we must imbue our work of propaganda and organization with the political ideas and revolutionary aspirations of the uprising of the petersburg workers. the russian revolution has approached its climax--a national uprising. the organization of this uprising, which would determine the fate of the entire revolution, becomes the day's task for our party. no one can accomplish it, but we. priest gapon could appear only once. he cherished extraordinary illusions, that is why he could do what he has done. yet he could remain at the head of the masses for a brief period only. the memory of george gapon will always be dear to the revolutionary proletariat. yet his memory will be that of a hero who opened the sluices of the revolutionary torrent. should a new figure step to the front now, equal to gapon in energy, revolutionary enthusiasm and power of political illusions, his arrival would be too late. what was great in george gapon may now look ridiculous. there is no room for a second george gapon, as the thing now needed is not an illusion, but clear revolutionary thinking, a decisive plan of action, a flexible revolutionary organization which would be able to give the masses a slogan, to lead them into the field of battle, to launch an attack all along the line and bring the revolution to a victorious conclusion. such an organization can be the work of social-democracy only. no other party is able to create it. no other party can give the masses a revolutionary slogan, as no one outside our party has freed himself from all considerations not pertaining to the interests of the revolution. no other party, but social-democracy, is able to organize the action of the masses, as no one but our party is closely connected with the masses. our party has committed many errors, blunders, almost crimes. it wavered, evaded, hesitated, it showed inertia and lack of pluck. at times it hampered the revolutionary movement. _however, there is no revolutionary party but the social-democratic party!_ our organizations are imperfect. our connections with the masses are insufficient. our technique is primitive. _yet, there is no party connected with the masses but the social-democratic party!_ at the head of the revolution is the proletariat. at the head of the proletariat is social-democracy! let us exert all our power, comrades! let us put all our energy and all our passion into this. let us not forget for a moment the great responsibility vested in our party: a responsibility before the russian revolution and in the sight of international socialism. the proletariat of the entire world looks to us with expectation. broad vistas are being opened for humanity by a victorious russian revolution. comrades, let us do our duty! let us close our ranks, comrades! let us unite, and unite the masses! let us prepare, and prepare the masses for the day of decisive actions! let us overlook nothing. let us leave no power unused for the cause. brave, honest, harmoniously united, we shall march forward, linked by unbreakable bonds, brothers in the revolution! explanatory notes _osvoboshdenie_ (_emancipation_) was the name of a liberal magazine published in stuttgart, germany, and smuggled into russia to be distributed among the zemstvo-liberals and other progressive elements grouped about the zemstvo-organization. the _osvoboshdenie_ advocated a constitutional monarchy; it was, however, opposed to revolutionary methods. _peter struve_, first a socialist, then a liberal, was the editor of the _osvoboshdenie_. struve is an economist and one of the leading liberal journalists in russia. _zemstvo-petitions_, accepted in form of resolutions at the meetings of the liberal zemstvo bodies and forwarded to the central government, were one of the means the liberals used in their struggle for a constitution. the petitions, worded in a very moderate language, demanded the abolition of "lawlessness" on the part of the administration and the introduction of a "legal order," i.e., a constitution. _sergius witte_, minister of finance in the closing years of the th century and up to the revolution of , was known as a bureaucrat of a liberal brand. _the ukase of december th, _, was an answer of the government to the persistent political demands of the "spring" time. the ukase promised a number of insignificant bureaucratic reforms, not even mentioning a popular representation and threatening increased punishments for "disturbances of peace and order." _trepov_ was one of the most hated bureaucrats, a devoted pupil of von plehve's in the work of drowning revolutionary movements in blood. _george gapon_ was the priest who organized the march of january th. trotzky's admiration for the heroism of gapon was originally shared by many revolutionists. later it became known that gapon played a dubious rôle as a friend of labor, and an agent of the government. _the_ "_political illusions_" of george gapon, referred to in this essay, was his assumption that the tzar was a loving father to his people. gapon hoped to reach the emperor of all the russias and to make him "receive the workingmen's petition from hand to hand." prospects of a labor dictatorship this is, perhaps, the most remarkable piece of political writing the revolution has produced. written early in , after the great upheavals of the fall of , at a time when the russian revolution was obviously going down hill, and autocracy, after a moment of relaxation, was increasing its deadly grip over the country, the essays under the name _sum total and prospectives_ (which we have here changed into a more comprehensible name, _prospects of labor dictatorship_) aroused more amazement than admiration. they seemed so entirely out of place. they ignored the liberal parties as quite negligible quantities. they ignored the creation of the duma to which the constitutional democrats attached so much importance as a place where democracy would fight the battles of the people and win. they ignored the very fact that the vanguard of the revolution, the industrial proletariat, was beaten, disorganized, downhearted, tired out. the essays met with opposition on the part of leading social-democratic thinkers of both the bolsheviki and mensheviki factions. the essays seemed to be more an expression of trotzky's revolutionary ardor, of his unshakable faith in the future of the russian revolution, than a reflection of political realities. it was known that he wrote them within prison walls. should not the very fact of his imprisonment have convinced him that in drawing a picture of labor dictatorship he was only dreaming? history has shown that it was not a dream. whatever our attitude towards the course of events in the revolution may be, we must admit that, in the main, this course has taken the direction predicted in trotzky's essays. there is a labor dictatorship now in russia. it is a _labor_ dictatorship, not a "dictatorship of the proletariat and the peasants." the liberal and radical parties have lost influence. the labor government has put collective ownership and collective management of industries on the order of the day. the labor government has not hesitated in declaring russia to be ready for a socialist revolution. it was compelled to do so under the pressure of revolutionary proletarian masses. the russian army has been dissolved in the armed people. the russian revolution has called the workingmen of the world to make a social revolution. all this had been outlined by trotzky twelve years ago. when one reads this series of essays, one has the feeling that they were written not in the course of the first russian upheaval (the essays appeared in as part of a book by trotzky, entitled _our revolution_, petersburg, n. glagoleff, publisher) but as if they were discussing problems of the present situation. this, more than anything else, shows the _continuity_ of the revolution. the great overthrow of was completed by the same political and social forces that had met and learned to know each other in the storms of and . the ideology of the various groups and parties had hardly changed. even the leaders of the major parties were, in the main, the same persons. of course, the international situation was different. but even the possibility of a european war and its consequences had been foreseen by trotzky in his essays. twelve years ago those essays seemed to picture an imaginary world. to-day they seem to tell the history of the russian revolution. we may agree or disagree with trotzky, the leader, nobody can deny the power and clarity of his political vision. * * * * * in the _first_ chapter, entitled "peculiarities of our historic development," the author gives a broad outline of the growth of absolutism in russia. development of social forms in russia, he says, was slow and primitive. our social life was constructed on an archaic and meager economic foundation. yet, russia did not lead an isolated life. russia was under constant pressure of higher politico-economical organisms,--the neighboring western states. the russian state, in its struggle for existence, outgrew its economic basis. historic development in russia, therefore, was taking place under a terrific straining of national economic forces. the state absorbed the major part of the national economic surplus and also part of the product necessary for the maintenance of the people. the state thus undermined its own foundation. on the other hand, to secure the means indispensable for its growth, the state forced economic development by bureaucratic measures. ever since the end of the seventeenth century, the state was most anxious to develop industries in russia. "new trades, machines, factories, production on a large scale, capital, appear from a certain angle to be an artificial graft on the original economic trunk of the people. similarly, russian science may appear from the same angle to be an artificial graft on the natural trunk of national ignorance." this, however, is a wrong conception. the russian state could not have created something out of nothing. state action only accelerated the processes of natural evolution of economic life. state measures that were in contradiction to those processes were doomed to failure. still, the rôle of the state in economic life was enormous. when social development reached the stage where the bourgeoisie classes began to experience a desire for political institutions of a western type, russian autocracy was fully equipped with all the material power of a modern european state. it had at its command a centralized bureaucratic machinery, incapable of regulating modern relations, yet strong enough to do the work of oppression. it was in a position to overcome distance by means of the telegraph and railroads,--a thing unknown to the pre-revolutionary autocracies in europe. it had a colossal army, incompetent in wars with foreign enemies, yet strong enough to maintain the authority of the state in internal affairs. based on its military and fiscal apparatus, absorbing the major part of the country's resources, the government increased its annual budget to an enormous amount of two billions of rubles, it made the stock-exchange of europe its treasury and the russian tax-payer a slave to european high finance. gradually, the russian state became an end in itself. it evolved into a power independent of society. it left unsatisfied the most elementary wants of the people. it was unable even to defend the safety of the country against foreign foes. yet, it seemed strong, powerful, invincible. it inspired awe. it became evident that the russian state would never grant reforms of its own free will. as years passed, the conflict between absolutism and the requirements of economic and cultural progress became ever more acute. there was only one way to solve the problem: "to accumulate enough steam inside the iron kettle of absolutism to burst the kettle." this was the way outlined by the marxists long ago. marxism was the only doctrine that had correctly predicted the course of development in russia. * * * * * in the _second_ chapter, "city and capital," trotzky attempts a theoretical explanation to the weakness of the middle-class in russia. russia of the eighteenth, and even of the major part of the nineteenth, century, he writes, was marked by an absence of cities as industrial centers. our big cities were administrative rather than industrial centers. our primitive industries were scattered in the villages, auxiliary occupations of the peasant farmers. even the population of our so called "cities," in former generations maintained itself largely by agriculture. russian cities never contained a prosperous, efficient and self-assured class of artisans--that real foundation of the european middle class which in the course of revolutions against absolutism identified itself with the "people." when modern capitalism, aided by absolutism, appeared on the scene of russia and turned large villages into modern industrial centers almost over night, it had no middle-class to build on. in russian cities, therefore, the influence of the bourgeoisie is far less than in western europe. russian cities practically contain great numbers of workingmen and small groups of capitalists. moreover, the specific political weight of the russian proletariat is larger than that of the capital employed in russia, because the latter is to a great extent _imported_ capital. thus, while a large proportion of the capital operating in russia exerts its political influence in the parliaments of belgium or france, the working class employed by the same capital exert their entire influence in the political life of russia. as a result of these peculiar historic developments, the russian proletariat, recruited from the pauperized peasant and ruined rural artisans, has accumulated in the new cities in very great numbers, "and nothing stood between the workingmen and absolutism but a small class of capitalists, separated from the 'people' (i.e., the middle-class in the european sense of the word), half foreign in its derivation, devoid of historic traditions, animated solely by a hunger for profits." chapter iii - - history does not repeat itself. you are free to compare the russian revolution with the great french revolution, yet this would not make the former resemble the latter. the nineteenth century passed not in vain. already the year of is widely different from . as compared with the great revolution, the revolutions in prussia or austria appear amazingly small. from one viewpoint, the revolutions of came too early; from another, too late. that gigantic exertion of power which is necessary for the bourgeois society to get completely square with the masters of the past, can be achieved either through powerful _unity_ of an entire nation arousing against feudal despotism, or through a powerful development of _class struggle_ within a nation striving for freedom. in the first case--of which a classic example are the years - ,--the national energy, compressed by the terrific resistance of the old régime, was spent entirely in the struggle against reaction. in the second case--which has never appeared in history as yet, and which is treated here as hypothetical--the actual energy necessary for a victory over the black forces of history is being developed within the bourgeois nation through "civil war" between classes. fierce internal friction characterizes the latter case. it absorbs enormous quantities of energy, prevents the bourgeoisie from playing a leading rôle, pushes its antagonist, the proletariat, to the front, gives the workingman decades' experience in a month, makes them the central figures in political struggles, and puts very tight reins into their hands. strong, determined, knowing no doubts, the proletariat gives events a powerful twist. thus, it is either--or. either a nation gathered into one compact whole, as a lion ready to leap; or a nation completely divided in the process of internal struggles, a nation that has released her best part for a task which the whole was unable to complete. such are the two polar types, whose purest forms, however, can be found only in logical contraposition. here, as in many other cases, the middle road is the worst. this was the case in . in the french revolution we see an active, enlightened bourgeoisie, not yet aware of the contradictions of its situation; entrusted by history with the task of leadership in the struggle for a new order; fighting not only against the archaic institutions of france, but also against the forces of reaction throughout europe. the bourgeoisie consciously, in the person of its various factions, assumes the leadership of the nation, it lures the masses into struggle, it coins slogans, it dictates revolutionary tactics. democracy unites the nation in one political ideology. the people--small artisans, petty merchants, peasants, and workingmen--elect bourgeois as their representatives; the mandates of the communities are framed in the language of the bourgeoisie which becomes aware of its messianic rôle. antagonisms do not fail to reveal themselves in the course of the revolution, yet the powerful momentum of the revolution removes one by one the most unresponsive elements of the bourgeoisie. each stratum is torn off, but not before it has given over all its energy to the following one. the nation as a whole continues to fight with ever increasing persistence and determination. when the upper stratum of the bourgeoisie tears itself away from the main body of the nation to form an alliance with louis xvi, the democratic demands of the nation turn _against_ this part of the bourgeoisie, leading to universal suffrage and a republican government as logically consequent forms of democracy. the great french revolution is a true national revolution. it is more than that. it is a classic manifestation, on a national scale, of the world-wide struggle of the bourgeois order for supremacy, for power, for unmitigated triumph. in , the bourgeoisie was no more capable of a similar rôle. it did not want, it did not dare take the responsibility for a revolutionary liquidation of a political order that stood in its way. the reason is clear. the task of the bourgeoisie--of which it was fully aware--was not to secure its _own_ political supremacy, but to secure for itself _a share_ in the political power of the old régime. the bourgeoisie of , niggardly wise with the experience of the french bourgeoisie, was vitiated by its treachery, frightened by its failures. it did not lead the masses to storm the citadels of the absolutist order. on the contrary, with its back against the absolutist order, it resisted the onslaught of the masses that were pushing it forward. the french bourgeoisie made its revolution great. its consciousness was the consciousness of the people, and no idea found its expression in institutions without having gone through its consciousness as an end, as a task of political construction. it often resorted to theatrical poses to conceal from itself the limitations of its bourgeois world,--yet it marched forward. the german bourgeoisie, on the contrary, was not doing the revolutionary work; it was "doing away" with the revolution from the very start. its consciousness revolted against the objective conditions of its supremacy. the revolution could be completed not by the bourgeoisie, but against it. democratic institutions seemed to the mind of the german bourgeois not an aim for his struggle, but a menace to his security. another class was required in , a class capable of conducting the revolution beside the bourgeoisie and in spite of it, a class not only ready and able to push the bourgeoisie forward, but also to step over its political corpse, should events so demand. none of the other classes, however, was ready for the job. _the petty middle class_ were hostile not only to the past, but also to the future. they were still entangled in the meshes of medieval relations, and they were unable to withstand the oncoming "free" industry; they were still giving the cities their stamp, and they were already giving way to the influences of big capital. steeped in prejudices, stunned by the clatter of events, exploiting and being exploited, greedy and helpless in their greed, they could not become leaders in matters of world-wide importance. still less were the _peasants_ capable of political initiative. scattered over the country, far from the nervous centers of politics and culture, limited in their views, the peasants could have no great part in the struggles for a new order. the _democratic intellectuals_ possessed no social weight; they either dragged along behind their elder sister, the liberal bourgeoisie, as its political tail, or they separated themselves from the bourgeoisie in critical moments only to show their weakness. _the industrial workingmen_ were too weak, unorganized, devoid of experience and knowledge. the capitalist development had gone far enough to make the abolition of old feudal relations imperative, yet it had not gone far enough to make the working class, the product of new economic relations, a decisive political factor. antagonism between bourgeoisie and proletariat, even within the national boundaries of germany, was sharp enough to prevent the bourgeoisie from stepping to the front to assume national hegemony in the revolution, yet it was not sharp enough to allow the proletariat to become a national leader. true, the internal frictions of the revolution had prepared the workingmen for political independence, yet they weakened the energy and the unity of the revolution and they caused a great waste of power. the result was that, after the first successes, the revolution began to plod about in painful uncertainty, and under the first blows of the reaction it started backwards. austria gave the clearest and most tragic example of unfinished and unsettled relations in a revolutionary period. it was this situation that gave lassalle occasion to assert that henceforward revolutions could find their support only in the class struggle of the proletariat. in a letter to marx, dated october , he writes: "the experiences of austria, hungary and germany in and have led me to the firm conclusion that no struggle in europe can be successful unless it is proclaimed from the very beginning as purely socialistic. no struggle can succeed in which social problems appear as nebulous elements kept in the background, while on the surface the fight is being conducted under the slogan of national revival of bourgeois republicanism." we shall not attempt to criticize this bold conclusion. one thing is evident, namely that already at the middle of the nineteenth century the national task of political emancipation could not be completed by a unanimous concerted onslaught of the entire nation. only the independent tactics of the proletariat deriving its strength from no other source but its class position, could have secured a victory of the revolution. the russian working class of differs entirely from the vienna working class of . the best proof of it is the all-russian practice of the councils of workmen's deputies (soviets). those are no organizations of conspirators prepared beforehand to step forward in times of unrest and to seize command over the working class. they are organs consciously created by the masses themselves to coördinate their revolutionary struggle. the soviets, elected by and responsible to the masses, are thoroughly democratic institutions following the most determined class policy in the spirit of revolutionary socialism. the differences in the social composition of the russian revolution are clearly shown in the question of arming the people. _militia_ (national guard) was the first slogan and the first achievement of the revolutions of and in paris, in all the italian states and in vienna and berlin. in , the demand for a national guard (i.e., the armament of the propertied classes and the "intellectuals") was put forth by the entire bourgeois opposition, including the most moderate factions. in russia, the demand for a national guard finds no favor with the bourgeois parties. this is not because the liberals do not understand the importance of arming the people: absolutism has given them in this respect more than one object lesson. the reason why liberals do not like the idea of a national guard is because they fully realize the impossibility of creating in russia an armed revolutionary force outside of the proletariat and against the proletariat. they are ready to give up this demand, as they give up many others, just as the french bourgeoisie headed by thiers preferred to give up paris and france to bismarck rather than to arm the working class. the problem of an armed revolution in russia becomes essentially a problem of the proletariat. national militia, this classic demand of the bourgeoisie of , appears in russia from the very beginning as a demand for arming the people, primarily the working class. herein the fate of the russian revolution manifests itself most clearly. chapter iv the revolution and the proletariat a revolution is an open contest of social forces in their struggle for political power. the state is not an end in itself. it is only a working machine in the hands of the social force in power. as every machine, the state has its motor, transmission, and its operator. its motive power is the class interest; its motor are propaganda, the press, influences of school and church, political parties, open air meetings, petitions, insurrections; its transmission is made up of legislative bodies actuated by the interest of a caste, a dynasty, a guild or a class appearing under the guise of divine or national will (absolutism or parliamentarism); its operator is the administration, with its police, judiciary, jails, and the army. the state is not an end in itself. it is, however, the greatest means for organizing, disorganizing and reorganizing social relations. according to who is directing the machinery of the state, it can be an instrument of profoundest transformations, or a means of organized stagnation. each political party worthy of its name strives to get hold of political power and thus to make the state serve the interests of the class represented by the party. social-democracy, as the party of the proletariat, naturally strives at political supremacy of the working class. the proletariat grows and gains strength with the growth of capitalism. from this viewpoint, the development of capitalism is the development of the proletariat for dictatorship. the day and the hour, however, when political power should pass into the hands of the working class, is determined not directly by the degree of capitalistic development of economic forces, but by the relations of class struggle, by the international situation, by a number of subjective elements, such as tradition, initiative, readiness to fight.... it is, therefore, not excluded that in a backward country with a lesser degree of capitalistic development, the proletariat should sooner reach political supremacy than in a highly developed capitalist state. thus, in middle-class paris, the proletariat consciously took into its hands the administration of public affairs in . true it is, that the reign of the proletariat lasted only for two months, it is remarkable, however, that in far more advanced capitalist centers of england and the united states, the proletariat never was in power even for the duration of one day. to imagine that there is an automatic dependence between a dictatorship of the proletariat and the technical and productive resources of a country, is to understand economic determinism in a very primitive way. such a conception would have nothing to do with marxism. it is our opinion that the russian revolution creates conditions whereby political power can (and, in case of a victorious revolution, _must_) pass into the hands of the proletariat before the politicians of the liberal bourgeoisie would have occasion to give their political genius full swing. summing up the results of the revolution and counter-revolution in and , marx wrote in his correspondences to the new york _tribune_: "the working class in germany is, in its social and political development, as far behind that of england and france as the german bourgeoisie is behind the bourgeoisie of those countries. like master, like man. the evolution of the conditions of existence for a numerous, strong, concentrated, and intelligent proletariat goes hand in hand with the development of the conditions of existence for a numerous, wealthy, concentrated and powerful middle class. the working class movement itself never is independent, never is of an exclusively proletarian character until all the different factions of the middle class, and particularly its most progressive faction, the large manufacturers, have conquered political power, and remodeled the state according to their wants. it is then that the inevitable conflict between employer and the employed becomes imminent, and cannot be adjourned any longer."[ ] this quotation must be familiar to the reader, as it has lately been very much abused by scholastic marxists. it has been used as an iron-clad argument against the idea of a labor government in russia. if the russian capitalistic bourgeoisie is not strong enough to take governmental power into its hands, how is it possible to think of an industrial democracy, i.e., a political supremacy of the proletariat, was the question. [ ] karl marx, _germany in _. (english edition, pp. - .) let us give this objection closer consideration. marxism is primarily a method of analysis,--not the analysis of texts, but the analysis of social relations. applied to russia, is it true that the weakness of capitalistic liberalism means the weakness of the working class? is it true, not in the abstract, but in relation to russia, that an independent proletarian movement is impossible before the bourgeoisie assume political power? it is enough to formulate these questions in order to understand what hopeless logical formalism there is hidden behind the attempt to turn marx's historically relative remark into a super-historic maxim. our industrial development, though marked in times of prosperity by leaps and bounds of an "american" character, is in reality miserably small in comparison with the industry of the united states. five million persons, forming . per cent. of the population engaged in economic pursuits, are employed in the industries of russia; six millions and . per cent. are the corresponding figures for the united states. to have a clear idea as to the real dimensions of industry in both countries, we must remember that the population of russia is twice as large as the population of the united states, and that the output of american industries in amounted to billions of rubles whereas the output of russian industries for the same year hardly reached . billions. there is no doubt that the number of the proletariat, the degree of its concentration, its cultural level, and its political importance depend upon the degree of industrial development in each country. this dependence, however, is not a direct one. between the productive forces of a country on one side and the political strength of its social classes on the other, there is at any given moment a current and cross current of various socio-political factors of a national and international character which modify and sometimes completely reverse the political expression of economic relations. the industry of the united states is far more advanced than the industry of russia, while the political rôle of the russian workingmen, their influence on the political life of their country, the possibilities of their influence on world politics in the near future, are incomparably greater than those of the american proletariat. in his recent work on the american workingman, kautsky arrives at the conclusion that there is no immediate and direct dependence between the political strength of the bourgeoisie and the proletariat of a country on one hand and its industrial development on the other. "here are two countries," he writes, "diametrically opposed to each other: in one of them, one of the elements of modern industry is developed out of proportion, i.e., out of keeping with the stage of capitalistic development; in the other, another; in america it is the class of capitalists; in russia, the class of labor. in america there is more ground than elsewhere to speak of the dictatorship of capital, while nowhere has labor gained as much influence as in russia, and this influence is bound to grow, as russia has only recently entered the period of modern class struggle." kautsky then proceeds to state that germany can, to a certain degree, study her future from the present conditions in russia, then he continues: "it is strange to think that it is the russian proletariat which shows us our future as far as, not the organization of capital, but the protest of the working class is concerned. russia is the most backward of all the great states of the capitalist world. this may seem to be in contradiction with the economic interpretation of history which considers economic strength the basis of political development. this is, however, not true. it contradicts only that kind of economic interpretation of history which is being painted by our opponents and critics who see in it not a _method of analysis_, but a _ready pattern_."[ ] these lines ought to be recommended to those of our native marxians who substitute for an independent analysis of social relations a deduction from texts selected for all emergencies of life. no one can compromise marxism as shamefully as these bureaucrats of marxism do. [ ] k. kautsky, _the american and the russian workingman_. in kautsky's estimation, russia is characterized, economically, by a comparatively low level of capitalistic development; politically, by a weakness of the capitalistic bourgeoisie and by a great strength of the working class. this results in the fact, that "the struggle for the interests of russia as a whole has become the task of _the only powerful class in russia_, industrial labor. this is the reason why labor has gained such a tremendous political importance. this is the reason why the struggle of russia against the polyp of absolutism which is strangling the country, turned out to be a single combat of absolutism against industrial labor, a combat where the peasantry can lend considerable assistance without, however, being able to play a leading rôle.[ ] [ ] d. mendeleyer, _russian realities_, , p. . are we not warranted in our conclusion that the "man" will sooner gain political supremacy in russia than his "master"? * * * * * there are two sorts of political optimism. one overestimates the advantages and the strength of the revolution and strives towards ends unattainable under given conditions. the other consciously limits the task of the revolution, drawing a line which the very logic of the situation will compel him to overstep. you can draw limits to all the problems of the revolution by asserting that this is a bourgeois revolution in its objective aims and inevitable results, and you can close your eyes to the fact that the main figure in this revolution is the working class which is being moved towards political supremacy by the very course of events. you can reassure yourself by saying that in the course of a bourgeois revolution the political supremacy of the working class can be only a passing episode, and you can forget that, once in power, the working class will offer desperate resistance, refusing to yield unless compelled to do so by armed force. you can reassure yourself by saying that social conditions in russia are not yet ripe for a socialist order, and you can overlook the fact that, once master of the situation, the working class would be compelled by the very logic of its situation to organize national economy under the management of the state. the term _bourgeois revolution_, a general sociological definition, gives no solution to the numerous political and tactical problems, contradictions and difficulties which are being created by the mechanism of a _given_ bourgeois revolution. within the limits of a bourgeois revolution at the end of the eighteenth century, whose objective was the political supremacy of capital, the dictatorship of the _sans-culottes_ turned out to be a fact. this dictatorship was not a passing episode, it gave its stamp to a whole century that followed the revolution, though it was soon crushed by the limitations of the revolution. within the limits of a revolution at the beginning of the twentieth century, which is also a bourgeois revolution in its immediate objective aims, there looms up a prospect of an inevitable, or at least possible, supremacy of the working class in the near future. that this supremacy should not turn out to be a passing episode, as many a realistic philistine may hope, is a task which the working class will have at heart. it is, then, legitimate to ask: is it inevitable that the dictatorship of the proletariat should clash against the limitations of a bourgeois revolution and collapse, or is it not possible that under given _international conditions_ it may open a way for an ultimate victory by crushing those very limitations? hence a tactical problem: should we consciously strive toward a labor government as the development of the revolution will bring us nearer to that stage, or should we look upon political power as upon a calamity which the bourgeois revolution is ready to inflict upon the workingmen, and which it is best to avoid? chapter v the proletariat in power and the peasantry in case of a victorious revolution, political power passes into the hands of the class that has played in it a dominant rôle, in other words, it passes into the hands of the working class. of course, revolutionary representatives of non-proletarian social groups may not be excluded from the government; sound politics demands that the proletariat should call into the government influential leaders of the lower middle class, the intelligentzia and the peasants. the problem is, _who will give substance to the politics of the government, who will form in it a homogeneous majority?_ it is one thing when the government contains a labor majority, which representatives of other democratic groups of the people are allowed to join; it is another, when the government has an outspoken bourgeois-democratic character where labor representatives are allowed to participate in the capacity of more or less honorable hostages. the policies of the liberal capitalist bourgeoisie, notwithstanding all their vacillations, retreats and treacheries, are of a definite character. the policies of the proletariat are of a still more definite, outspoken character. the policies of the intelligentzia, however, a result of intermediate social position and political flexibility of this group; the politics of the peasants, a result of the social heterogeneity, intermediate position, and primitiveness of this class; the politics of the lower middle class, a result of muddle-headedness, intermediate position and complete want of political traditions,--can never be clear, determined, and firm. it must necessarily be subject to unexpected turns, to uncertainties and surprises. to imagine a revolutionary democratic government without representatives of labor is to see the absurdity of such a situation. a refusal of labor to participate in a revolutionary government would make the very existence of that government impossible, and would be tantamount to a betrayal of the cause of the revolution. a participation of labor in a revolutionary government, however, is admissible, both from the viewpoint of objective probability and subjective desirability, _only in the rôle of a leading dominant power_. of course, you can call such a government "dictatorship of the proletariat and peasantry," "dictatorship of the proletariat, the peasantry, and the intelligentzia," or "a revolutionary government of the workingmen and the lower middle class." this question will still remain: who has the hegemony in the government and through it in the country? _when we speak of a labor government we mean that the hegemony belongs to the working class._ the proletariat will be able to hold this position under one condition: if it broadens the basis of the revolution. many elements of the working masses, especially among the rural population, will be drawn into the revolution and receive their political organization only after the first victories of the revolution, when the revolutionary vanguard, the city proletariat, shall have seized governmental power. under such conditions, the work of propaganda and organization will be conducted through state agencies. legislative work itself will become a powerful means of revolutionizing the masses. the burden thrust upon the shoulders of the working class by the peculiarities of our social and historical development, the burden of completing a bourgeois revolution by means of labor struggle, will thus confront the proletariat with difficulties of enormous magnitude; on the other hand, however, it will offer the working class, at least in the first period, unusual opportunities. this will be seen in the relations between the proletariat and the peasants. in the revolutions of - , and , governmental power passed from absolutism into the hands of the moderate bourgeois elements which emancipated the peasants before revolutionary democracy succeeded or even attempted to get into power. the emancipated peasantry then lost interest in the political ventures of the "city-gentlemen," i.e., in the further course of the revolution; it formed the dead ballast of "order," the foundation of all social "stability," betraying the revolution, supporting a cesarian or ultra-absolutist reaction. the russian revolution is opposed to a bourgeois constitutional order which would be able to solve the most primitive problems of democracy. the russian revolution will be against it for a long period to come. reformers of a bureaucratic brand, such as witte and stolypin, can do nothing for the peasants, as their "enlightened" efforts are continually nullified by their own struggle for existence. the fate of the most elementary interests of the peasantry--the entire peasantry as a class--is, therefore, closely connected with the fate of the revolution, i.e., with the fate of the proletariat. _once in power, the proletariat will appear before the peasantry as its liberator._ proletarian rule will mean not only democratic equality, free self-government, shifting the burden of taxation on the propertied classes, dissolution of the army among the revolutionary people, abolition of compulsory payments for the church, but also recognition of all revolutionary changes made by the peasants in agrarian relations (seizures of land). these changes will be taken by the proletariat as a starting point for further legislative measures in agriculture. under such conditions, the russian peasantry will be interested in upholding the proletarian rule ("labor democracy"), at least in the first, most difficult period, not less so than were the french peasants interested in upholding the military rule of napoleon bonaparte who by force guaranteed to the new owners the integrity of their land shares. but is it not possible that the peasants will remove the workingmen from their positions and take their place? no, this can never happen. this would be in contradiction to all historical experiences. history has convincingly shown that the peasantry is incapable of an independent political rôle. the history of capitalism is the history of subordination of the village by the city. industrial development had made the continuation of feudal relations in agriculture impossible. yet the peasantry had not produced a class which could live up to the revolutionary task of destroying feudalism. it was the city which made rural population dependent on capital, and which produced revolutionary forces to assume political hegemony over the village, there to complete revolutionary changes in civic and political relations. in the course of further development, the village becomes completely enslaved by capital, and the villagers by capitalistic political parties, which revive feudalism in parliamentary politics, making the peasantry their political domain, the ground for their preëlection huntings. modern peasantry is driven by the fiscal and militaristic system of the state into the clutches of usurers' capital, while state-clergy, state-schools and barrack depravity drive it into the clutches of usurers' politics. the russian bourgeoisie yielded all revolutionary positions to the russian proletariat. it will have to yield also the revolutionary hegemony over the peasants. once the proletariat becomes master of the situation, conditions will impel the peasants to uphold the policies of a labor democracy. they may do it with no more political understanding than they uphold a bourgeois régime. the difference is that while each bourgeois party in possession of the peasants' vote uses its power to rob the peasants, to betray their confidence and to leave their expectations unfulfilled, in the worst case to give way to another capitalist party, the working class, backed by the peasantry, will put all forces into operation to raise the cultural level of the village and to broaden the political understanding of the peasants. our attitude towards the idea of a "dictatorship of the proletariat and the peasantry" is now quite clear. it is not a question whether we think it "admissible" or not, whether we "wish" or we "do not wish" this form of political coöperation. in our opinion, it simply cannot be realized, at least in its direct meaning. such a coöperation presupposes that either the peasantry has identified itself with one of the existing bourgeois parties, or it has formed a powerful party of its own. neither is possible, as we have tried to point out. chapter vi proletarian rule the proletariat can get into power only at a moment of national upheaval, of sweeping national enthusiasm. the proletariat assumes power as a revolutionary representative of the people, as a recognized leader in the fight against absolutism and barbaric feudalism. having assumed power, however, the proletariat will open a new era, an era of positive legislation, of revolutionary politics, and this is the point where its political supremacy as an avowed spokesman of the nation may become endangered. the first measures of the proletariat--the cleansing of the augean stables of the old régime and the driving away of their inhabitants--will find active support of the entire nation whatever the liberal castraters may tell us of the power of some prejudices among the masses. the work of political cleansing will be accompanied by democratic reorganization of all social and political relations. the labor government, impelled by immediate needs and requirements, will have to look into all kinds of relations and activities among the people. it will have to throw out of the army and the administration all those who had stained their hands with the blood of the people; it will have to disband all the regiments that had polluted themselves with crimes against the people. this work will have to be done immediately, long before the establishment of an elective responsible administration and before the organization of a popular militia. this, however, will be only a beginning. labor democracy will soon be confronted by the problems of a normal workday, the agrarian relations and unemployment. the legislative solution of those problems will show the _class character_ of the labor government. it will tend to weaken the revolutionary bond between the proletariat and the nation; it will give the economic differentiation among the peasants a political expression. antagonism between the component parts of the nation will grow step by step as the policies of the labor government become more outspoken, lose their general democratic character and become _class policies_. the lack of individualistic bourgeois traditions and anti-proletarian prejudices among the peasants and the intelligentzia will help the proletariat assume power. it must not be forgotten, however, that this lack of prejudices is based not on political understanding, but on political barbarism, on social shapelessness, primitiveness, and lack of character. these are all qualities which can hardly guarantee support for an active, consistent proletarian rule. the abolition of the remnants of feudalism in agrarian relations will be supported by all the peasants who are now oppressed by the landlords. a progressive income tax will be supported by an overwhelming majority of the peasants. yet, legislative measures in defense of the rural proletariat (farm hands) will find no active support among the majority, and will meet with active opposition on the part of a minority of the peasants. the proletariat will be compelled to introduce class struggle into the village and thus to destroy that slight community of interests which undoubtedly unites the peasants as a whole. in its next steps, the proletariat will have to seek for support by helping the poor villagers against the rich, the rural proletariat against the agrarian bourgeoisie. this will alienate the majority of the peasants from labor democracy. relations between village and city will become strained. the peasantry as a whole will become politically indifferent. the peasant minority will actively oppose proletarian rule. this will influence part of the intellectuals and the lower middle class of the cities. two features of proletarian politics are bound particularly to meet with the opposition of labor's allies: _collectivism_ and _internationalism_. the strong adherence of the peasants to private ownership, the primitiveness of their political conceptions, the limitations of the village horizon, its distance from world-wide political connections and interdependences, are terrific obstacles in the way of revolutionary proletarian rule. to imagine that social-democracy participates in the provisional government, playing a leading rôle in the period of revolutionary democratic reconstruction, insisting on the most radical reforms and all the time enjoying the aid and support of the organized proletariat,--only to step aside when the democratic program is put into operation, to leave the completed building at the disposal of the bourgeois parties and thus to open an era of parliamentary politics where social-democracy forms only a party of opposition,--to imagine this would mean to compromise the very idea of a labor government. it is impossible to imagine anything of the kind, not because it is "against principles"--such abstract reasoning is devoid of any substance--but because it is _not real_, it is the worst kind of utopianism, it is the revolutionary utopianism of philistines. our distinction between a minimum and maximum program has a great and profound meaning only under bourgeois rule. the very fact of bourgeois rule eliminates from our minimum program all demands incompatible with private ownership of the means of production. those demands form the substance of a socialist revolution, and they presuppose a dictatorship of the proletariat. the moment, however, a revolutionary government is dominated by a socialist majority, the distinction between minimum and maximum programs loses its meaning both as a question of principle and as a practical policy. _under no condition will a proletarian government be able to keep within the limits of this distinction._ let us take the case of an eight hour workday. it is a well established fact that an eight hour workday does not contradict the capitalist order; it is, therefore, well within the limits of the social-democratic minimum program. imagine, however, its realization in a revolutionary period, when all social passions are at the boiling point. an eight hour workday law would necessarily meet with stubborn and organized opposition on the part of the capitalists--let us say in the form of a lock-out and closing down of factories and plants. hundreds of thousands of workingmen would be thrown into the streets. what ought the revolutionary government to do? a bourgeois government, however radical, would never allow matters to go as far as that. it would be powerless against the closing of factories and plants. it would be compelled to make concessions. the eight hour workday would not be put into operation; the revolts of the workingmen would be put down by force of arms.... under the political domination of the proletariat, the introduction of an eight hour workday must have totally different consequences. the closing down of factories and plants cannot be the reason for increasing labor hours by a government which represents not capital, but labor, and which refuses to act as an "impartial" mediator, the way bourgeois democracy does. a labor government would have only one way out--to expropriate the closed factories and plants and to organize their work on a public basis. or let us take another example. a proletarian government must necessarily take decisive steps to solve the problem of unemployment. representatives of labor in a revolutionary government can by no means meet the demands of the unemployed by saying that this is a bourgeois revolution. once, however, the state ventures to eliminate unemployment--no matter how--a tremendous gain in the economic power of the proletariat is accomplished. the capitalists whose pressure on the working class was based on the existence of a reserve army of labor, will soon realize that they are powerless _economically_. it will be the task of the government to doom them also to _political_ oblivion. measures against unemployment mean also measures to secure means of subsistence for strikers. the government will have to undertake them, if it is anxious not to undermine the very foundation of its existence. nothing will remain for the capitalists but to declare a lock-out, to close down factories and plants. since capitalists can wait longer than labor in case of interrupted production, nothing will remain for a labor government but to meet a general lock-out by expropriating the factories and plants and by introducing in the biggest of them state or communal production. in agriculture, similar problems will present themselves through the very fact of land-expropriation. we cannot imagine a proletarian government expropriating large private estates with agricultural production on a large scale, cutting them into pieces and selling them to small owners. for it the only open way is to organize in such estates coöperative production under communal or state management. this, however, _is the way of socialism_. social-democracy can never assume power under a double obligation: to put the _entire_ minimum program into operation for the sake of the proletariat, and to keep strictly _within the limits_ of this program, for the sake of the bourgeoisie. such a double obligation could never be fulfilled. participating in the government, not as powerless hostages, but as a leading force, the representatives of labor _eo ipso_ break the line between the minimum and maximum program. _collectivism becomes the order of the day._ at which point the proletariat will be stopped on its march in this direction, depends upon the constellation of forces, not upon the original purpose of the proletarian party. it is, therefore, absurd to speak of a _specific_ character of proletarian dictatorship (or a dictatorship of the proletariat _and_ the peasantry) within a bourgeois revolution, viz., a _purely democratic_ dictatorship. the working class can never secure the democratic character of its dictatorship without overstepping the limits of its democratic program. illusions to the contrary may become a handicap. they would compromise social-democracy from the start. once the proletariat assumes power, it will fight for it to the end. one of the means to secure and solidify its power will be propaganda and organization, particularly in the village; another means will be a _policy of collectivism_. collectivism is not only dictated by the very position of the social-democratic party as the party in power, but it becomes imperative as a means to secure this position through the active support of the working class. * * * * * when our socialist press first formulated the idea of a _permanent revolution_ which should lead from the liquidation of absolutism and civic bondage to a socialist order through a series of ever growing social conflicts, uprisings of ever new masses, unremitting attacks of the proletariat on the political and economic privileges of the governing classes, our "progressive" press started a unanimous indignant uproar. oh, they had suffered enough, those gentlemen of the "progressive" press; this nuisance, however, was too much. revolution, they said, is not a thing that can be made "legal!" extraordinary measures are allowable only on extraordinary occasions. the aim of the revolutionary movement, they asserted, was not to make the revolution go on forever, but to bring it as soon as possible into the channels of _law_, etc., etc. the more radical representatives of the same democratic bourgeoisie do not attempt to oppose the revolution from the standpoint of completed constitutional "achievements": tame as they are, they understand how hopeless it is to fight the proletariat revolution with the weapon of parliamentary cretinism _in advance_ of the establishment of parliamentarism itself. they, therefore, choose another way. they forsake the standpoint of law, but take the standpoint of what they deem to be facts,--the standpoint of historic "possibilities," the standpoint of political "realism,"--even ... even the standpoint of "marxism." it was antonio, the pious venetian bourgeois, who made the striking observation: mark you this, bassanio, the devil can cite scriptures for his purpose. those gentlemen not only consider the idea of labor government in russia fantastic, but they repudiate the very probability of a social revolution in europe in the near historic epoch. the necessary "prerequisites" are not yet in existence, is their assertion. is it so? it is, of course, not our purpose to set a time for a social revolution. what we attempt here is to put the social revolution into a proper historic perspective. chapter vii prerequisites to socialism marxism turned socialism into a science. this does not prevent some "marxians" from turning marxism into a utopia. [trotzky then proceeds to find logical flaws in the arguments of n. roshkov, a russian marxist, who had made the assertion that russia was not yet ripe for socialism, as her level of industrial technique and the class-consciousness of her working masses were not yet high enough to make socialist production and distribution possible. then he goes back to what he calls "prerequisites to socialism," which in his opinion are: ( ) development of industrial technique; ( ) concentration of production; ( ) social consciousness of the masses. in order that socialism become possible, he says, it is not necessary that each of these prerequisites be developed to its logically conceivable limit.] all those processes (development of technique, concentration of production, growth of mass-consciousness) go on simultaneously, and not only do they help and stimulate each other, but they also _hamper and limit_ each other's development. each of the processes of a higher order presupposes the development of another process of a lower order, yet the full development of any of them is incompatible with the full development of the others. the logical limit of technical development is undoubtedly a perfect automatic mechanism which takes in raw materials from natural resources and lays them down at the feet of men as ready objects of consumption. were not capitalism limited by relations between classes and by the consequences of those relations, the class struggle, one would be warranted in his assumption that industrial technique, having approached the ideal of one great automatic mechanism within the limits of capitalistic economy, _eo ipso_ dismisses capitalism. the concentration of production which is an outgrowth of economic competition has an inherent tendency to throw the entire population into the working class. taking this tendency apart from all the others, one would be warranted in his assumption that capitalism would ultimately turn the majority of the people into a reserve army of paupers, lodged in prisons. this process, however, is being checked by revolutionary changes which are inevitable under a certain relationship between social forces. it will be checked long before it has reached its logical limit. and the same thing is true in relation to social mass-consciousness. this consciousness undoubtedly grows with the experiences of every day struggle and through the conscious efforts of socialist parties. isolating this process from all others, we can imagine it reaching a stage where the overwhelming majority of the people are encompassed by professional and political organizations, united in a feeling of solidarity and in identity of purpose. were this process allowed to grow quantitatively without changing in quality, socialism might be established peacefully, through a unanimous compact of the citizens of the twenty-first or twenty-second century. the historic prerequisites to socialism, however, do not develop in isolation from each other; _they limit each other_; reaching a certain stage, which is determined by many circumstances, but which is very far from their mathematical limits, they undergo a qualitative change, and in their complex combination they produce what we call a social revolution. let us take the last mentioned process, the growth of social mass-consciousness. this growth takes place not in academies, but in the very life of modern capitalistic society, on the basis of incessant class struggle. the growth of proletarian class consciousness makes class struggles undergo a transformation; it deepens them; it puts a foundation of principle under them, thus provoking a corresponding reaction on the part of the governing classes. the struggle between proletariat and bourgeoisie has its own logic; it must become more and more acute and bring things to a climax long before the time when concentration of production has become predominant in economic life. it is evident, further, that the growth of the political consciousness of the proletariat is closely related with its numerical strength; proletarian dictatorship presupposes great numbers of workingmen, strong enough to overcome the resistance of the bourgeois counter-revolution. this, however, does not imply that the overwhelming majority of the people must consist of proletarians, or that the overwhelming majority of proletarians must consist of convinced socialists. of course, the fighting revolutionary army of the proletariat must by all means be stronger than the fighting counter-revolutionary army of capital; yet between those two camps there may be a great number of doubtful or indifferent elements who are not actively helping the revolution, but are rather inclined to desire its ultimate victory. the proletarian policy must take all this into account. this is possible only where there is a hegemony of industry over agriculture, and a hegemony of the city over the village. let us review the prerequisites to socialism in the order of their diminishing generality and increasing complexity. . socialism is not only a problem of equal distribution, but also a problem of well organized production. socialistic, i.e., coöperative production on a large scale is possible only where economic progress has gone so far as to make a large undertaking more productive than a small one. the greater the advantages of a large undertaking over a small one, i.e., the higher the industrial technique, the greater must be the economic advantages of socialized production, the higher, consequently, must be the cultural level of the people to enable them to enjoy equal distribution based on well organized production. this first prerequisite of socialism has been in existence for many years. ever since division of labor has been established in manufactories; ever since manufactories have been superseded by factories employing a system of machines,--large undertakings become more and more profitable, and consequently their socialization would make the people more prosperous. there would have been no gain in making all the artisans' shops common property of the artisans; whereas the seizure of a manufactory by its workers, or the seizure of a factory by its hired employees, or the seizure of all means of modern production by the people must necessarily improve their economic conditions,--the more so, the further the process of economic concentration has advanced. at present, social division of labor on one hand, machine production on the other have reached a stage where the only coöperative organization that can make adequate use of the advantages of collectivist economy, is the state. it is hardly conceivable that socialist production would content itself with the area of the state. economic and political motives would necessarily impel it to overstep the boundaries of individual states. the world has been in possession of technical equipment for collective production--in one or another form--for the last hundred or two hundred years. _technically_, socialism is profitable not only on a national, but also to a large extent on an international scale. why then have all attempts at organizing socialist communities failed? why has concentration of production manifested its advantages all through the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries not in socialistic, but in capitalistic forms? the reason is that there was no social force ready and able to introduce socialism. . here we pass from the prerequisite of industrial technique to the _socio-economic_ prerequisite, which is less general, but more complex. were our society not an antagonistic society composed of classes, but a homogeneous partnership of men consciously selecting the best economic system, a mere calculation as to the advantages of socialism would suffice to make people start socialistic reconstruction. our society, however, harbors in itself opposing interests. what is good for one class, is bad for another. class selfishness clashes against class selfishness; class selfishness impairs the interests of the whole. to make socialism possible, a social power has to arise in the midst of the antagonistic classes of capitalist society, a power objectively placed in a position to be interested in the establishment of socialism, at the same time strong enough to overcome all opposing interests and hostile resistance. it is one of the principal merits of scientific socialism to have discovered such a social power in the person of the proletariat, and to have shown that this class, growing with the growth of capitalism, can find its salvation only in socialism; that it is being moved towards socialism by its very position, and that the doctrine of socialism in the presence of a capitalist society must necessarily become the ideology of the proletariat. how far, then, must the social differentiation have gone to warrant the assertion that the second prerequisite is an accomplished fact? in other words, what must be the numerical strength of the proletariat? must it be one-half, two-thirds, or nine-tenths of the people? it is utterly futile to try and formulate this second prerequisite of socialism arithmetically. an attempt to express the strength of the proletariat in mere numbers, besides being schematic, would imply a series of difficulties. whom should we consider a proletarian? is the half-paupered peasant a proletarian? should we count with the proletariat those hosts of the city reserve who, on one hand, fall into the ranks of the parasitic proletariat of beggars and thieves, and, on the other hand, fill the streets in the capacity of peddlers, i.e., of parasites on the economic body as a whole? it is not easy to answer these questions. the importance of the proletariat is based not only on its numbers, but primarily on its rôle in industry. the political supremacy of the bourgeoisie is founded on economic power. before it manages to take over the authority of the state, it concentrates in its hands the national means of production; hence its specific weight. the proletariat will possess no means of production of its own before the social revolution. its social power depends upon the circumstance that the means of production in possession of the bourgeoisie can be put into motion only by the hands of the proletariat. from the bourgeois viewpoint, the proletariat is also one of the means of production, forming, in combination with the others, a unified mechanism. yet the proletariat is the only non-automatic part of this mechanism, and can never be made automatic, notwithstanding all efforts. this puts the proletariat into a position to be able to stop the functioning of the national economic body, partially or wholly--through the medium of partial or general strikes. hence it is evident that, the numerical strength of the proletariat being equal, its importance is proportional to the mass of the means of production it puts into motion: the proletarian of a big industrial concern represents--other conditions being equal--a greater social unit than an artisan's employee; a city workingman represents a greater unit than a proletarian of the village. in other words, the political rôle of the proletariat is greater in proportion as large industries predominate over small industries, industry predominates over agriculture, and the city over the village. at a period in the history of germany or england when the proletariats of those countries formed the same percentage to the total population as the proletariat in present day russia, they did not possess the same social weight as the russian proletariat of to-day. they could not possess it, because their objective importance in economic life was comparatively smaller. the social weight of the cities represents the same phenomenon. at a time when the city population of germany formed only per cent. of the total nation, as is the case in present-day russia, the german cities were far from equaling our cities in economic and political importance. the concentration of big industries and commercial enterprises in the cities, and the establishment of closer relations between city and country through a system of railways, has given the modern cities an importance far exceeding the mere volume of their population. moreover, the growth of their importance runs ahead of the growth of their population, and the growth of the latter runs ahead of the natural increase of the entire population of the country. in , the number of artisans, masters and their employees, in italy was per cent. of the population, the same as the percentage of the proletariat, including artisans, in russia of to-day. their importance, however, was far less than that of the russian industrial proletariat. the question is not, how strong the proletariat is numerically, but what is its position in the general economy of a country. [the author then quotes figures showing the numbers of wage-earners and industrial proletarians in germany, belgium and england: in germany, in , . millions proletarians; in belgium . millions, or per cent. of all the persons who make a living independently; in england . millions.] in the leading european countries, city population numerically predominates over the rural population. infinitely greater is its predominance through the aggregate of means of production represented by it, and through the qualities of its human material. the city attracts the most energetic, able and intelligent elements of the country. thus we arrive at the conclusion that economic evolution--the growth of industry, the growth of large enterprises, the growth of cities, the growth of the proletariat, especially the growth of the industrial proletariat--have already prepared the arena not only for the _struggle_ of the proletariat for political power, but also for the _conquest_ of that power. . here we approach the third prerequisite to socialism, the _dictatorship of the proletariat_. politics is the plane where objective prerequisites intersect with subjective. on the basis of certain technical and socio-economic conditions, a class puts before itself a definite task--to seize power. in pursuing this task, it unites its forces, it gauges the forces of the enemy, it weighs the circumstances. yet, not even here is the proletariat absolutely free: besides subjective moments, such as understanding, readiness, initiative which have a logic of their own, there are a number of objective moments interfering with the policies of the proletariat, such are the policies of the governing classes, state institutions (the army, the class-school, the state-church), international relations, etc. let us first turn our attention to the subjective moment; let us ask, _is the proletariat ready for a socialist change?_ it is not enough that development of technique should make socialist economy profitable from the viewpoint of the productivity of national labor; it is not enough that social differentiation, based on technical progress, should create the proletariat, as a class objectively interested in socialism. it is of prime importance that this class should _understand_ its objective interests. it is necessary that this class should _see_ in socialism the only way of its emancipation. it is necessary that it should unite into an army powerful enough to seize governmental power in open combat. it would be a folly to deny the necessity for the preparation of the proletariat. only the old blanquists could stake their hopes in the salutary initiative of an organization of conspirators formed independently of the masses. only their antipodes, the anarchists, could build their system on a spontaneous elemental outburst of the masses whose results nobody can foresee. when social-democracy speaks of seizing power, it thinks of _a deliberate action of a revolutionary class_. there are socialists-ideologists (ideologists in the wrong sense of the word, those who turn all things upside down) who speak of preparing the proletariat for socialism as a problem of moral regeneration. the proletariat, they say, and even "humanity" in general, must first free itself from its old selfish nature; altruistic motives must first become predominant in social life. as we are still very far from this ideal, they contend, and as human nature changes very slowly, socialism appears to be a problem of remote centuries. this view seems to be very realistic, evolutionistic, etc. it is in reality a conglomeration of hackneyed moralistic considerations. those "ideologists" imagine that a socialist psychology can be acquired before the establishment of socialism; that in a world ruled by capitalism the masses can be imbued with a socialist psychology. socialist psychology as here conceived should not be identified with socialist aspirations. the former presupposes the absence of selfish motives in economic relations, while the latter are an outcome of the class psychology of the proletariat. class psychology, and socialist psychology in a society not split into classes, may have many common features, yet they differ widely. coöperation in the struggle of the proletariat against exploitation has developed in the soul of the workingmen beautiful sprouts of idealism, brotherly solidarity, a spirit of self-sacrifice. yet those sprouts cannot grow and blossom freely within capitalist society: individual struggle for existence, the yawning abyss of poverty, differentiations among the workingmen themselves, the corrupting influence of the bourgeois parties,--all this interferes with the growth of idealism among the masses. however, it is a fact that, while remaining selfish as any of the lower middle class, while not exceeding the average representative of the bourgeois classes by the "human" value of his personality, the average workingman learns in the school of life's experience that _his most primitive desires and most natural wants can be satisfied only on the debris of the capitalist order_. if socialism should attempt to create a new human nature within the limits of the old world, it would be only a new edition of the old moralistic utopias. the task of socialism is not to create a socialist psychology as a prerequisite to socialism, but to create socialist conditions of human life as a prerequisite to a socialist psychology. chapter viii a labor government in russia and socialism the objective prerequisites of a social revolution, as we have shown above, have been already created by the economic progress of advanced capitalist countries. but how about russia? is it possible to think that the seizure of power by the russian proletariat would be the beginning of a socialist reconstruction of our national economy? a year ago we thus answered this question in an article which was mercilessly bombarded by the organs of both our factions. we wrote: "the workingmen of paris, says marx, had not expected miracles from the commune. we cannot expect miracles from a proletarian dictatorship now. governmental power is not almighty. it is folly to think that once the proletariat has seized power, it would abolish capitalism and introduce socialism by a number of decrees. the economic system is not a product of state activity. what the proletariat will be able to do is to shorten economic evolution towards collectivism through a series of energetic state measures. "the starting point will be the reforms enumerated in our so-called minimum program. the very situation of the proletariat, however, will compel it to move along the way of collectivist practice. "it will be comparatively easy to introduce the eight hour workday and progressive taxation, though even here the center of gravity is not the issuance of a 'decree,' but the organization of its practical application. it will be difficult, however,--and here we pass to collectivism--to organize production under state management in such factories and plants as would be closed down by their owners in protest against the new law. "it will be comparatively simple to issue a law abolishing the right of inheritance, and to put it into operation. inheritances in the form of money capital will not embarrass the proletariat and not interfere with its economy. to be, however, the inheritor of capital invested in land and industry, would mean for a labor government to organize economic life on a public basis. "the same phenomenon, on a vastly larger scale, is represented by the question of expropriation (of land), with or without compensation. expropriation with compensation has political advantages, but it is financially difficult; expropriation without compensation has financial advantages, but it is difficult politically. greater than all the other difficulties, however, will be those of an economic nature, the difficulties of organization. "to repeat: a labor government does not mean a government of miracles. "public management will begin in those branches where the difficulties are smallest. publicly managed enterprises will originally represent kind of oases linked with private enterprises by the laws of exchange of commodities. the wider the field of publicly managed economy will grow, the more flagrant its advantages will become, the firmer will become the position of the new political régime, and the more determined will be the further economic measures of the proletariat. its measures it will base not only on the national productive forces, but also on international technique, in the same way as it bases its revolutionary policies not only on the experience of national class relations but also on the entire historic experience of the international proletariat." _political supremacy of the proletariat is incompatible with its economic slavery._ whatever may be the banner under which the proletariat will find itself in possession of power, it will be compelled to enter the road of socialism. it is the greatest utopia to think that the proletariat, brought to the top by the mechanics of a bourgeois revolution, would be able, even if it wanted, to limit its mission by creating a republican democratic environment for the social supremacy of the bourgeoisie. political dominance of the proletariat, even if it were temporary, would extremely weaken the resistance of capital which is always in need of state aid, and would give momentous opportunities to the economic struggle of the proletariat. a proletarian régime will immediately take up the agrarian question with which the fate of vast millions of the russian people is connected. in solving this, as many another question, the proletariat will have in mind the main tendency of its economic policy: to get hold of a widest possible field for the organization of a socialist economy. the forms and the tempo of this policy in the agrarian question will be determined both by the material resources that the proletariat will be able to get hold of, and by the necessity to coördinate its actions so as not to drive possible allies into the ranks of the counter-revolution. it is evident that the _agrarian_ question, i.e., the question of rural economy and its social relations, is not covered by the _land_ question which is the question of the forms of land ownership. it is perfectly clear, however, that the solution of the land question, even if it does not determine the future of the agrarian evolution, would undoubtedly determine the future agrarian policy of the proletariat. in other words, the use the proletariat will make of the land must be in accord with its general attitude towards the course and requirements of the agrarian evolution. the land question will, therefore, be one of the first to interest the labor government. one of the solutions, made popular by the socialist-revolutionists, is the _socialization of the land_. freed from its european make-up, it means simply "equal distribution" of land. this program demands an expropriation of all the land, whether it is in possession of landlords, of peasants on the basis of private property, or it is owned by village communities. it is evident that such expropriation, being one of the first measures of the new government and being started at a time when capitalist exchange is still in full swing, would lead the peasants to believe that they are "victims of the reform." one must not forget that the peasants have for decades made redemption payments in order to turn their land into private property; many prosperous peasants have made great sacrifices to secure a large portion of land as their private possession. should all this land become state property, the most bitter resistance would be offered by the members of the communities and by private owners. starting out with a reform of this kind, the government would make itself most unpopular among the peasants. and why should one confiscate the land of the communities and the land of small private owners? according to the socialist-revolutionary program, the only use to be made of the land by the state is to turn it over to all the peasants and agricultural laborers on the basis of equal distribution. this would mean that the confiscated land of the communities and small owners would anyway return to individuals for private cultivation. consequently, there would be _no economic gain_ in such a confiscation and redistribution. _politically_, it would be a great blunder on the part of the labor government as it would make the masses of peasants hostile to the proletarian leadership of the revolution. closely connected with this program is the question of hired agricultural labor. equal distribution presupposes the prohibition of using hired labor on farms. this, however, can be only a _consequence_ of economic reforms, it cannot be decreed by a law. it is not enough to forbid an agricultural capitalist to hire laborers; one must first secure agricultural laborers a fair existence; furthermore, this existence must be profitable from the viewpoint of social economy. to declare equal distribution of land and to forbid hired labor, would mean to compel agricultural proletarians to settle on small lots, and to put the state under obligation to provide them with implements for their socially unprofitable production. it is clear that the intervention of the proletariat in the organization of agriculture ought to express itself not in settling individual laborers on individual lots, but in organizing _state or communal management of large estates_. later, when socialized production will have established itself firmly, a further step will be made towards socialization by forbidding hired labor. this will eliminate small capitalistic enterprises in agriculture; it will, however, leave unmolested those private owners who work their land wholly or to a great extent by the labor of their families. to expropriate such owners can by no means be a desire of the socialistic proletariat. the proletariat can never indorse a program of "equal distribution" which on one hand demands a useless, purely formal expropriation of small owners, and on the other hand it demands a very real parceling of large estates into small lots. this would be a wasteful undertaking, a pursuance of a reactionary and utopian plan, and a political harm for the revolutionary party. * * * * * how far, however, can the socialist policy of the working class advance in the economic environment of russia? one thing we can say with perfect assurance: it will meet political obstacles long before it will be checked by the technical backwardness of the country. _without direct political aid from the european proletariat the working class of russia will not be able to retain its power and to turn its temporary supremacy into a permanent socialist dictatorship._ we cannot doubt this for a moment. on the other hand, there is no doubt that a _socialist revolution in the west would allow us to turn the temporary supremacy of the working class directly into a socialist dictatorship_. chapter ix europe and the revolution in june, , we wrote: "more than half a century passed since . half a century of unprecedented victories of capitalism all over the world. half a century of "organic" mutual adaptation of the forces of the bourgeois and the forces of feudal reaction. half a century in which the bourgeoisie has manifested its mad appetite for power and its readiness to fight for it madly! "as a self-taught mechanic, in his search for perpetual motion, meets ever new obstacles and piles mechanism over mechanism to overcome them, so the bourgeoisie has changed and reconstructed the apparatus of its supremacy avoiding 'supra-legal' conflicts with hostile powers. and as the self-taught mechanic finally clashes against the ultimate insurmountable obstacle,--the law of conservation of energy,--so the bourgeoisie had to clash against the ultimate implacable barrier,--class antagonism, fraught with inevitable conflict. "capitalism, forcing its economic system and social relations on each and every country, has turned the entire world into one economic and political organism. as the effect of the modern credit system, with the invisible bonds it draws between thousands of enterprises, with the amazing mobility it lends to capital, has been to eliminate local and partial crises, but to give unusual momentum to general economic convulsions, so the entire economic and political work of capitalism, with its world commerce, with its system of monstrous foreign debts, with its political groupings of states, which have drawn all reactionary forces into one world-wide co-partnership, has prevented local political crises, but it has prepared a basis for a social crisis of unheard of magnitude. driving unhealthy processes inside, evading difficulties, staving off the deep problems of national and international politics, glossing over all contradictions, the bourgeoisie has postponed the climax, yet it has prepared a radical world-wide liquidation of its power. it has clung to all reactionary forces no matter what their origin. it has made the sultan not the last of its friends. it has not tied itself on the chinese ruler only because he had no power: it was more profitable to rob his possessions than to keep him in the office of a world gendarme and to pay him from the treasury of the bourgeoisie. thus the bourgeoisie made the stability of its political system wholly dependent upon the stability of the pre-capitalistic pillars of reaction. "this gives events an international character and opens a magnificent perspective; political emancipation, headed by the working class of russia, will elevate its leader to a height unparalleled in history, it will give russian proletariat colossal power and make it the initiator of world-wide liquidation of capitalism, to which the objective prerequisites have been created by history." it is futile to guess how the russian revolution will find its way to old capitalistic europe. this way may be a total surprise. to illustrate our thought rather than to predict events, we shall mention poland as the possible connecting link between the revolutionary east and the revolutionary west. [the author pictures the consequences of a revolution in poland. a revolution in poland would necessarily follow the victory of the revolution in russia. this, however, would throw revolutionary sparks into the polish provinces of germany and austria. a revolution in posen and galicia would move the hohenzollerns and hapsburgs to invade poland. this would be a sign for the proletariat of germany to get into a sharp conflict with their governments. a revolution becomes inevitable.] a revolutionary poland, however, is not the only possible starting point for a european revolution. the system of armed peace which became predominant in europe after the franco-prussian war, was based on a system of european equilibrium. this equilibrium took for granted not only the integrity of turkey, the dismemberment of poland, the preservation of austria, that ethnographic harlequin's robe, but also the existence of russian despotism in the rôle of a gendarme of the european reaction, armed to his teeth. the russo-japanese war has given a mortal blow to this artificial system in which absolutism was the dominant figure. for an indefinite period russia is out of the race as a first-class power. the equilibrium has been destroyed. on the other hand, the successes of japan have incensed the conquest instincts of the capitalistic bourgeoisie, especially the stock exchange, which plays a colossal rôle in modern politics. _the possibilities of a war on european territory have grown enormously._ conflicts are ripening here and there; so far they have been settled in a diplomatic way, but nothing can guarantee the near future. _a european war, however, means a european revolution._ even without the pressure of such events as war or bankruptcy, a revolution may take place in the near future in one of the european countries as a result of acute class struggles. we shall not make computations as to which country would be first to take the path of revolution; it is obvious, however, that class antagonisms have for the last years reached a high degree of intensity in all the european countries. the influence of the russian revolution on the proletariat of europe is immense. not only does it destroy the petersburg absolutism, that main power of european reaction; it also imbues the minds and the souls of the european proletariat with revolutionary daring. it is the purpose of every socialist party to revolutionize the minds of the working class in the same way as development of capitalism has revolutionized social relations. the work of propaganda and organization among the proletariat, however, has its own intrinsic inertia. the socialist parties of europe--in the first place the most powerful of them, the german socialist party--have developed a conservatism of their own, which grows in proportion as socialism embraces ever larger masses and organization and discipline increase. social-democracy, personifying the political experience of the proletariat, can, therefore, at a certain juncture, become an immediate obstacle on the way of an open proletarian conflict with the bourgeois reaction. in other words, the propaganda-conservatism of a proletarian party can, at a certain moment, impede the direct struggle of the proletariat for power. the colossal influence of the russian revolution manifests itself in killing party routine, in destroying socialist conservatism, in making a clean contest of proletarian forces against capitalist reaction a question of the day. the struggle for universal suffrage in austria, saxony and prussia has become more determined under the direct influence of the october strike in russia. an eastern revolution imbues the western proletariat with revolutionary idealism and stimulates its desire to speak "russian" to its foes. the russian proletariat in power, even if this were only the result of a passing combination of forces in the russian bourgeois revolution, would meet organized opposition on the part of the world's reaction, and readiness for organized support on the part of the world's proletariat. left to its own resources, the russian working class must necessarily be crushed the moment it loses the aid of the peasants. nothing remains for it but to link the fate of its political supremacy and the fate of the russian revolution with the fate of a socialist revolution in europe. all that momentous authority and political power which is given to the proletariat by a combination of forces in the russian bourgeois revolution, it will thrust on the scale of class struggle in the entire capitalistic world. equipped with governmental power, having a counter-revolution behind his back, having the european reaction in front of him, the russian workingman will issue to all his brothers the world over his old battle-cry which will now become the call for the last attack: _proletarians of all the world, unite!_ explanatory notes the first _council of workmen's deputies_ was formed in petersburg, on october th, , in the course of the great general october strike that compelled nicholas romanoff to promise a constitution. it represented individual factories, labor unions, and included also delegates from the socialist parties. it looked upon itself as the center of the revolution and a nucleus of a revolutionary labor government. similar councils sprung up in many other industrial centers. it was arrested on december d, having existed for fifty days. its members were tried and sent to siberia. _intelligentzia_ is a term applied in russia to an indefinite, heterogeneous group of "intellectuals," who are not actively and directly involved in the industrial machinery of capitalism, and at the same time are not members of the working class. it is customary to count among the _intelligentzia_ students, teachers, writers, lawyers, physicians, college professors, etc. however, the term _intelligentzia_ implies also a certain degree of idealism and radical aspirations. _witte_ was the first prime-minister under the quasi-constitution granted on october th, . _stolypin_ was appointed prime minister after the dissolution of the first duma in july, . under the _minimum program_ the social-democrats understand all that range of reforms which can be obtained under the existing capitalist system of "private ownership of the means of production," such as an eight hour workday, social insurance, universal suffrage, a republican order. the _maximum program_ demands the abolition of private property and public management of industries, i.e., socialism. "_some prejudices among the masses_" referred to in this essay is the alleged love of the primitive masses for their tzar. this was an argument usually put forth by the liberals against republican aspirations. _lower-middle-class_ is the only term half-way covering the russian "mieshchanstvo" used by trotzky. "mieshchanstvo" has a socio-economic meaning, and a flavor of moral disapproval. socially and economically it means those numerous inhabitants of modern cities who are engaged in independent economic pursuits, as artisans (masters), shopkeepers, small manufacturers, petty merchants, etc., who have not capital enough to rank with the bourgeoisie. morally "mieshchanstvo" presupposes a limited horizon, lack of definite revolutionary or political ideas, and lack of political courage. the _village community_ is a remnant of old times in russia. up to the members of the village were not allowed to divide the land of the community among the individual peasants on the basis of private property. the land legally belonged to the entire community which allotted it to its members. since the compulsory character of communal land-ownership was abandoned, yet in very great areas of russia it still remained the prevailing system of land-ownership. besides having a share in the community-land, the individual peasant could acquire a piece of land out of his private means (the seller being usually the landlord) and thus become a _small private owner_. the soviet and the revolution (fifty days) about two years after the arrest of the soviet of , a number of former leaders of that organization, among them chrustalyov nossar, the first chairman, and trotzky, the second chairman, met abroad after having escaped from siberian exile. they decided to sum up their soviet experiences in a book which they called _the history of the council of workingmen's deputies_. the book appeared in in petersburg, and was immediately suppressed. one of the essays of this book is here reprinted. in his estimation of the rôle of the soviet trotzky undoubtedly exaggerates. only by a flight of imagination can one see in the activities of the soviet regarding the postal, telegraph and railroad strikers the beginnings of a soviet control over post-office, telegraph and railroads. it is also a serious question whether the soviet was really a leading body, or whether it was led by the current of revolutionary events which it was unable to control. what makes this essay interesting and significant is trotzky's assertion that "the first new wave of the revolution will lead to the creation of soviets all over the country." this has actually happened. his predictions of the formation of an all-russian soviet, and of the program the soviets would follow, have also been realized in the course of the present revolution. the history of the soviet is a history of fifty days. the soviet was constituted on october th; its session was interrupted by a military detachment of the government on december rd. between those two dates the soviet lived and struggled. what was the substance of this institution? what enabled it in this short period to take an honorable place in the history of the russian proletariat, in the history of the russian revolution? the soviet organized the masses, conducted political strikes, led political demonstrations, tried to arm the workingmen. but other revolutionary organizations did the same things. the substance of the soviet was its effort to become _an organ of public authority_. the proletariat on one hand, the reactionary press on the other, have called the soviet "a labor government"; this only reflects the fact that the soviet was in reality _an embryo of a revolutionary government_. in so far as the soviet was in actual possession of authoritative power, it made use of it; in so far as the power was in the hands of the military and bureaucratic monarchy, the soviet fought to obtain it. prior to the soviet, there had been revolutionary organizations among the industrial workingmen, mostly of a social-democratic nature. but those were organizations _among_ the proletariat; their immediate aim was to _influence the masses_. the soviet is an organization _of_ the proletariat; its aim is to fight for _revolutionary power_. at the same time, the soviet was _an organized expression of the will of the proletariat as a class_. in its fight for power the soviet applied such methods as were naturally determined by the character of the proletariat as a class: its part in production; its numerical strength; its social homogeneity. in its fight for power the soviet has combined the direction of all the social activities of the working class, including decisions as to conflicts between individual representatives of capital and labor. this combination was by no means an artificial tactical attempt: it was a natural consequence of the situation of a class which, consciously developing and broadening its fight for its immediate interests, had been compelled by the logic of events to assume a leading position in the revolutionary struggle for power. the main weapon of the soviet was a political strike of the masses. the power of the strike lies in disorganizing the power of the government. the greater the "anarchy" created by a strike, the nearer its victory. this is true only where "anarchy" is not being created by anarchic actions. the class that puts into motion, day in and day out, the industrial apparatus and the governmental apparatus; the class that is able, by a sudden stoppage of work, to paralyze both industry and government, must be organized enough not to fall the first victim of the very "anarchy" it has created. the more effective the disorganization of government caused by a strike, the more the strike organization is compelled to assume governmental functions. the council of workmen's delegates introduces a free press. it organizes street patrols to secure the safety of the citizens. it takes over, to a greater or less extent, the post office, the telegraph, and the railroads. it makes an effort to introduce the eight hour workday. paralyzing the autocratic government by a strike, it brings its own democratic order into the life of the working city population. after january th the revolution had shown its power over the minds of the working masses. on june th, through the revolt of the potyomkin tavritchesky it had shown that it was able to become a material force. in the october strike it had shown that it could disorganize the enemy, paralyze his will and utterly humiliate him. by organizing councils of workmen's deputies all over the country, _it showed that it was able to create authoritative power_. revolutionary authority can be based only on active revolutionary force. whatever our view on the further development of the russian revolution, it is a fact that so far no social class besides the proletariat has manifested readiness to uphold a revolutionary authoritative power. the first act of the revolution was an encounter in the streets of the _proletariat_ with the monarchy; the first serious victory of the revolution was achieved through the _class-weapon of the proletariat_, the political strike; the first nucleus of a revolutionary government was _a proletarian representation_. the soviet is the first democratic power in modern russian history. the soviet is the organized power of the masses themselves over their component parts. this is a true, unadulterated democracy, without a two-chamber system, without a professional bureaucracy, with the right of the voters to recall their deputy any moment and to substitute another for him. through its members, through deputies elected by the workingmen, the soviet directs all the social activities of the proletariat as a whole and of its various parts; it outlines the steps to be taken by the proletariat, it gives them a slogan and a banner. this art of directing the activities of the masses on the basis of organized self-government, is here applied for the first time on russian soil. absolutism ruled the masses, but it did not direct them. it put mechanical barriers against the living creative forces of the masses, and within those barriers it kept the restless elements of the nation in an iron bond of oppression. the only mass absolutism ever directed was the army. but that was not directing, it was merely commanding. in recent years, even the directing of this atomized and hypnotized military mass has been slipping out of the hands of absolutism. liberalism never had power enough to command the masses, or initiative enough to direct them. its attitude towards mass-movements, even if they helped liberalism directly, was the same as towards awe-inspiring natural phenomena--earthquakes or volcanic eruptions. the proletariat appeared on the battlefield of the revolution as a self-reliant aggregate, totally independent from bourgeois liberalism. the soviet was a _class-organization_, this was the source of its fighting power. it was crushed in the first period of its existence not by lack of confidence on the part of the masses in the cities, but by the limitations of a purely urban revolution, by the relatively passive attitude of the village, by the backwardness of the peasant element of the army. the soviet's position among the city population was as strong as could be. the soviet was not an official representative of the entire half million of the working population in the capital; its organization embraced about two hundred thousand, chiefly industrial workers; and though its direct and indirect political influence was of a much wider range, there were thousands and thousands of proletarians (in the building trade, among domestic servants, day laborers, drivers) who were hardly, if at all, influenced by the soviet. there is no doubt, however, that the soviet represented the interests of _all_ these proletarian masses. there were but few adherents of the black hundred in the factories, and their number dwindled hour by hour. the proletarian masses of petersburg were solidly behind the soviet. among the numerous intellectuals of petersburg the soviet had more friends than enemies. thousands of students recognized the political leadership of the soviet and ardently supported it in its decisions. professional petersburg was entirely on the side of the soviet. the support by the soviet of the postal and telegraph strike won it the sympathy of the lower governmental officials. all the oppressed, all the unfortunate, all honest elements of the city, all those who were striving towards a better life, were instinctively or consciously on the side of the soviet. the soviet was actually or potentially a representative of an overwhelming majority of the population. its enemies in the capital would not have been dangerous had they not been protected by absolutism, which based its power on the most backward elements of an army recruited from peasants. the weakness of the soviet was not its own weakness, it was the weakness of a purely urban revolution. the fifty day period was the period of the greatest power of the revolution. _the soviet was its organ in the fight for public authority._ the class character of the soviet was determined by the class differentiation of the city population and by the political antagonism between the proletariat and the capitalistic bourgeoisie. this antagonism manifested itself even in the historically limited field of a struggle against absolutism. after the october strike, the capitalistic bourgeoisie consciously blocked the progress of the revolution, the petty middle class turned out to be a nonentity, incapable of playing an independent rôle. the real leader of the urban revolution was the proletariat. its class-organization was the organ of the revolution in its struggle for power. the struggle for power, for public authority--this is the central aim of the revolution. the fifty days of the soviet's life and its bloody finale have shown that urban russia is too narrow a basis for such a struggle, and that even within the limits of the urban revolution, a local organization cannot be the central leading body. for a national task the proletariat required an organization on a national scale. the petersburg soviet was a local organization, yet the need of a central organization was so great that it had to assume leadership on a national scale. it did what it could, still it remained primarily the _petersburg_ council of workmen's deputies. the urgency of an all-russian labor congress which undoubtedly would have had authority to form a central leading organ, was emphasized even at the time of the first soviet. the december collapse made its realization impossible. the idea remained, an inheritance of the fifty days. the idea of a soviet has become ingrained in the consciousness of the workingmen as the first prerequisite to revolutionary action of the masses. experience has shown that a soviet is not possible or desirable under all circumstances. the objective meaning of the soviet organization is to create conditions for disorganizing the government, for "anarchy," in other words for a revolutionary conflict. the present lull in the revolutionary movement, the mad triumph of reaction, make the existence of an open, elective, authoritative organization of the masses impossible. there is no doubt, however, that _the first new wave of the revolution will lead to the creation of soviets all over the country_. an all-russian soviet, organized by an all-russian labor congress, will assume leadership of the local elective organizations of the proletariat. names, of course, are of no importance; so are details of organization; the main thing is: a centralized democratic leadership in the struggle of the proletariat for a popular government. history does not repeat itself, and the new soviet will not have again to go through the experience of the fifty days. these, however, will furnish it a complete program of action. this program is perfectly clear. to establish revolutionary coöperation with the army, the peasantry, and the plebeian lower strata of the urban bourgeoisie. to abolish absolutism. to destroy the material organization of absolutism by reconstructing and partly dismissing the army. to break up the entire bureaucratic apparatus. to introduce an eight hour workday. to arm the population, starting with the proletariat. to turn the soviets into organs of revolutionary self-government in the cities. to create councils of peasants' delegates (peasants' committees) as local organs of the agrarian revolution. to organize elections to the constituent assembly and to conduct a preëlection campaign for a definite program on the part of the representatives of the people. it is easier to formulate such a program than to carry it through. if, however, the revolution will ever win, the proletariat cannot choose another. the proletariat will unfold revolutionary accomplishment such as the world has never seen. the history of fifty days will be only a poor page in the great book of the proletariat's struggle and ultimate triumph. preface to _my round trip_ trotzky was never personal. the emotional side of life seldom appears in his writings. his is the realm of social activities, social and political struggles. his writings breathe logic, not sentiment, facts, not poetry. the following preface to his _round trip_ is, perhaps, the only exception. it speaks of the man trotzky and his beliefs. note his confession of faith: "history is a tremendous mechanism serving our ideals." ... at the stockholm convention of the social-democratic party, some curious statistical data was circulated, showing the conditions under which the party of the proletariat was working: the convention as a whole, in the person of its members, had spent in prison one hundred and thirty-eight years and three and a half months. the convention had been in exile one hundred and forty-eight years and six and a half months. escaped from prison: once, eighteen members of the convention; twice, four members. escaped from exile: once, twenty-three; twice, five; three times, one member. the length of time the convention as a whole had been active in social-democratic work, was years. it follows that the time spent in prison and exile is about one-third of the time a social-democrat is active. but these figures are too optimistic. "the convention has been active in social-democratic work for years"--this means merely that the activities of those persons had been spread over so many years. their actual period of work must have been much shorter. possibly all these persons had worked, actually and directly, only one-sixth or one-tenth of the above time. such are conditions of underground activity. on the other hand, the time spent in prison and exile is real time: the convention had spent over fifty thousand days and nights behind iron bars, and more than that in barbarous corners of the country. perhaps i may give, in addition to these figures, some facts about myself. the author of these lines was arrested for the first time in january, , after working for ten months in the workmen's circles of nikolayev. he spent two and a half years in prison, and escaped from siberia after living there two years of his four years' exile. he was arrested the second time on december rd, , as a member of the petersburg council of workmen's deputies. the council had existed for fifty days. the arrested members of the soviet each spent days in prison, then they were sent to obdorsk "forever." ... each russian social-democrat who has worked in his party for ten years could give similar statistics about himself. the political helter-skelter which exists in russia since october th and which the gotha almanach has characterized with unconscious humor as "_a constitutional monarchy under an absolute tzar_," has changed nothing in our situation. this political order cannot reconcile itself with us, not even temporarily, as it is organically incapable of admitting any free activity of the masses. the simpletons and hypocrites who urge us to "keep within legal limits" remind one of marie antoinette who recommended the starving peasants to eat cake! one would think we suffer from an organic aversion for cake, a kind of incurable disease! one would think our lungs infected with an irresistible desire to breathe the atmosphere of the solitary dungeons in the fortress of peter and paul! one would think we have no other use for those endless hours pulled out of our lives by the jailers. we love our underground just as little as a drowning person loves the bottom of the sea. yet, we have as little choice, as, let us say directly, the absolutist order. being fully aware of this we can afford to be optimists even at a time when the underground tightens its grip around our necks with unrelenting grimness. it will not choke us, we know it! we shall survive! when the bones of all the great deeds which are being performed now by the princes of the earth, their servants and the servants of their servants will have turned to dust, when nobody will know the graves of many present parties with all their exploits--the cause we are serving will rule the world, and our party, now choking underground, will dissolve itself into humanity, for the first time its own master. history is a tremendous mechanism serving our ideals. its work is slow, barbarously slow, implacably cruel, yet the work goes on. we believe in it. only at moments, when this voracious monster drinks the living blood of our hearts to serve it as food, we wish to shout with all our might: _what thou dost, do quickly!_ paris, april / , . the lessons of the great year this essay was published in a new york russian newspaper on january th, , less than two months before the second russian revolution. trotzky then lived in new york. the essay shows how his contempt, even hatred, for the liberal parties in russia had grown since - . (january th, --january th, ) revolutionary anniversaries are not only days for reminiscence, they are days for summing up revolutionary experiences, especially for us russians. our history has not been rich. our so-called "national originality" consisted in being poor, ignorant, uncouth. it was the revolution of that first opened before us the great highway of political progress. on january th the workingman of petersburg knocked at the gate of the winter palace. on january th the entire russian people knocked at the gate of history. the crowned janitor did not respond to the knock. nine months later, however, on october th, he was compelled to open the heavy gate of absolutism. notwithstanding all the efforts of bureaucracy, a little slit stayed open--forever. the revolution was defeated. the same old forces and almost the same figures now rule russia that ruled her twelve years ago. yet the revolution has changed russia beyond recognition. the kingdom of stagnation, servitude, vodka and humbleness has become a kingdom of fermentation, criticism, fight. where once there was a shapeless dough--the impersonal, formless people, "holy russia,"--now social classes consciously oppose each other, political parties have sprung into existence, each with its program and methods of struggle. january th opens _a new russian history_. it is a line marked by the blood of the people. there is no way back from this line to asiatic russia, to the cursed practices of former generations. there is no way back. there will never be. not the liberal bourgeoisie, not the democratic groups of the lower bourgeoisie, not the radical intellectuals, not the millions of russian peasants, but the _russian proletariat_ has by its struggle started the new era in russian history. this is basic. on the foundation of this fact we, social-democrats, have built our conceptions and our tactics. on january th it was the priest gapon who happened to be at the head of the petersburg workers,--a fantastic figure, a combination of adventurer, hysterical enthusiast and impostor. his priest's robe was the last link that then connected the workingmen with the past, with "holy russia." nine months later, in the course of the october strike, the greatest political strike history has ever seen, there was at the head of the petersburg workingmen their own elective self-governing organization--the council of workmen's deputies. it contained many a workingman who had been on gapon's staff,--nine months of revolution had made those men grow, as they made grow the entire working class which the soviet represented. in the first period of the revolution, the activities of the proletariat were met with sympathy, even with support from liberal society. the milukovs hoped the proletariat would punch absolutism and make it more inclined to compromise with the bourgeoisie. yet absolutism, for centuries the only ruler of the people, was in no haste to share its power with the liberal parties. in october, , the bourgeoisie learned that it could not obtain power before the back-bone of tzarism was broken. this blessed thing could, evidently, be accomplished only by a victorious revolution. but the revolution put the working class in the foreground, it united it and solidified it not only in its struggle against tzarism, but also in its struggle against capital. the result was that each new revolutionary step of the proletariat in october, november and december, the time of the soviet, moved the liberals more and more in the direction of the monarchy. the hopes for revolutionary coöperation between the bourgeoisie and the proletariat turned out a hopeless utopia. those who had not seen it then and had not understood it later, those who still dream of a "national" uprising against tzarism, do not understand the revolution. for them class struggle is a sealed book. at the end of the question became acute. the monarchy had learned by experience that the bourgeoisie would not support the proletariat in a decisive battle. the monarchy then decided to move against the proletariat with all its forces. the bloody days of december followed. the council of workmen's deputies was arrested by the ismailovski regiment which remained loyal to tzarism. the answer of the proletariat was momentous: the strike in petersburg, the insurrection in moscow, the storm of revolutionary movements in all industrial centers, the insurrection on the caucasus and in the lettish provinces. the revolutionary movement was crushed. many a poor "socialist" readily concluded from our december defeats that a revolution in russia was impossible without the support of the bourgeoisie. if this be true, it would only mean that a revolution in russia is impossible. our _upper industrial bourgeoisie_, the only class possessing actual power, is separated from the proletariat by an insurmountable barrier of class hatred, and it needs the monarchy as a pillar of order. the gutchkovs, krestovnikovs and ryabushinskys cannot fail to see in the proletariat their mortal foe. our _middle and lower industrial and commercial bourgeoisie_ occupies a very insignificant place in the economic life of the country, and is all entangled in the net of capital. the milukovs, the leaders of the lower middle class, are successful only in so far as they represent the interests of the upper bourgeoisie. this is why the cadet leader called the revolutionary banner a "red rag"; this is why he declared, after the beginning of the war, that if a revolution were necessary to secure victory over germany, he would prefer no victory at all. our _peasantry_ occupies a tremendous place in russian life. in it was shaken to its deepest foundations. the peasants were driving out their masters, setting estates on fire, seizing the land from the landlords. yes, the curse of the peasantry is that it is scattered, disjointed, backward. moreover, the interests of the various peasant groups do not coincide. the peasants arose and fought adroitly against their local slave-holders, yet they stopped in reverence before the all-russian slave-holder. the sons of the peasants in the army did not understand that the workingmen were shedding their blood not only for their own sake, but also for the sake of the peasants. the army was an obedient tool in the hands of tzarism. it crushed the labor revolution in december, . whoever thinks about the experiences of , whoever draws a line from that year to the present time, must see how utterly lifeless and pitiful are the hopes of our social-patriots for revolutionary coöperation between the proletariat and the liberal bourgeoisie. during the last twelve years big capital has made great conquests in russia. the middle and lower bourgeoisie has become still more dependent upon the banks and trusts. the working class, which had grown in numbers since , is now separated from the bourgeoisie by a deeper abyss than before. if a "national" revolution was a failure twelve years ago, there is still less hope for it at present. it is true in the last years that the cultural and political level of the peasantry has become higher. however, there is less hope now for a revolutionary uprising of the peasantry as a whole than there was twelve years ago. the only ally of the urban proletariat may be the proletarian and half-proletarian strata of the village. but, a skeptic may ask, is there then any hope for a victorious revolution in russia under these circumstances? one thing is clear--if a revolution comes, it will not be a result of coöperation between capital and labor. the experiences of show that this is a miserable utopia. to acquaint himself with those experiences, to study them is the duty of every thinking workingman who is anxious to avoid tragic mistakes. it is in this sense that we have said that revolutionary anniversaries are not only days for reminiscences, but also days for summing up revolutionary experiences. _gutchkov_, _ryabushinsky_ and _krestovnikov_ are representatives of big capital in russia. gutchkov is the leader of the moderately liberal party of octobrists. he was war minister in the first cabinet after the overthrow of the romanoffs. on the eve of a revolution this essay was written on march th, , when the first news of unrest in petrograd had reached new york. the streets of petrograd again speak the language of . as in the time of the russo-japanese war, the masses demand bread, peace, and freedom. as in , street cars are not running and newspapers do not appear. the workingmen let the steam out of the boilers, they quit their benches and walk out into the streets. the government mobilizes its cossacks. and as was in , only those two powers are facing each other in the streets--the revolutionary workingmen and the army of the tzar. the movement was provoked by lack of bread. this, of course, is not an accidental cause. in all the belligerent countries the lack of bread is the most immediate, the most acute reason for dissatisfaction and indignation among the masses. all the insanity of the war is revealed to them from this angle: it is impossible to produce necessities of life because one has to produce instruments of death. however, the attempts of the anglo-russian semi-official news agencies to explain the movement by a temporary shortage in food, or to snow storms that have delayed transportation, are one of the most ludicrous applications of the policy of the ostrich. the workingmen would not stop the factories, the street cars, the print shops and walk into the streets to meet tzarism face to face on account of snow storms which temporarily hamper the arrival of foodstuffs. people have a short memory. many of our own ranks have forgotten that the war found russia in a state of potent revolutionary ferment. after the heavy stupor of - , the proletariat gradually healed its wounds in the following years of industrial prosperity; the slaughter of strikers on the lena river in april, , awakened the revolutionary energy of the proletarian masses. a series of strikes followed. in the year preceding the world war, the wave of economic and political strikes resembled that of . when poincaré, the president of the french republic, came to petersburg in the summer of (evidently to talk over with the tzar how to free the small and weak nations) the russian proletariat was in a stage of extraordinary revolutionary tension, and the president of the french republic could see with his own eyes in the capital of his friend, the tzar, how the first barricades of the second russian revolution were being constructed. the war checked the rising revolutionary tide. we have witnessed a repetition of what happened ten years before, in the russo-japanese war. after the stormy strikes of , there had followed a year of almost unbroken political silence-- --the first year of the war. it took the workingmen of petersburg twelve months to orientate themselves in the war and to walk out into the streets with their demands and protests. january th, , was, so to speak, the official beginning of our first revolution. the present war is vaster than was the russo-japanese war. millions of soldiers have been mobilized by the government for the "defense of the fatherland." the ranks of the proletariat have thus been disorganized. on the other hand, the more advanced elements of the proletariat had to face and weigh in their minds a number of questions of unheard of magnitude. what is the cause of the war? shall the proletariat agree with the conception of "the defense of the fatherland"? what ought to be the tactics of the working-class in war time? in the meantime, the tzarism and its allies, the upper groups of the nobility and the bourgeoisie, had during the war completely exposed their true nature,--the nature of criminal plunderers, blinded by limitless greed and paralyzed by want of talent. the appetites for conquest of the governing clique grew in proportion as the people began to realize its complete inability to cope with the most elementary problems of warfare, of industry and supplies in war time. simultaneously, the misery of the people grew, deepened, became more and more acute,--a natural result of the war multiplied by the criminal anarchy of the rasputin tzarism. in the depths of the great masses, among people who may have never been reached by a word of propaganda, a profound bitterness accumulated under the stress of events. meantime the foremost ranks of the proletariat were finishing digesting the new events. the socialist proletariat of russia came to after the shock of the nationalist fall of the most influential part of the international, and decided that new times call us not to let up, but to increase our revolutionary struggle. the present events in petrograd and moscow are a result of this internal preparatory work. a disorganized, compromised, disjointed government on top. an utterly demoralized army. dissatisfaction, uncertainty and fear among the propertied classes. at the bottom, among the masses, a deep bitterness. a proletariat numerically stronger than ever, hardened in the fire of events. all this warrants the statement that we are witnessing the beginning of the second russian revolution. let us hope that many of us will be its participants. two faces (internal forces of the russian revolution) let us examine more closely what is going on. nicholas has been dethroned, and according to some information, is under arrest. the most conspicuous black hundred leaders have been arrested. some of the most hated have been killed. a new ministry has been formed consisting of octobrists, liberals and the radical kerensky. a general amnesty has been proclaimed. all these are facts, big facts. these are the facts that strike the outer world most. changes in the higher government give the bourgeoisie of europe and america an occasion to say that the revolution has won and is now completed. the tzar and his black hundred fought for their power, for this alone. the war, the imperialistic plans of the russian bourgeoisie, the interests of the allies, were of minor importance to the tzar and his clique. they were ready at any moment to conclude peace with the hohenzollerns and hapsburgs, to free their most loyal regiment for war against their own people. the progressive bloc of the duma mistrusted the tzar and his ministers. this bloc consisted of various parties of the russian bourgeoisie. the bloc had two aims: one, to conduct the war to a victorious end; another, to secure internal reforms: more order, control, accounting. a victory is necessary for the russian bourgeoisie to conquer markets, to increase their territories, to get rich. reforms are necessary primarily to enable the russian bourgeoisie to win the war. the progressive imperialistic bloc wanted _peaceful_ reforms. the liberals intended to exert a duma pressure on the monarchy and to keep it in check with the aid of the governments of great britain and france. they did not want a revolution. they knew that a revolution, bringing the working masses to the front, would be a menace to their domination, and primarily a menace to their imperialistic plans. the laboring masses, in the cities and in the villages, and even in the army itself, want peace. the liberals know it. this is why they have been enemies of the revolution all these years. a few months ago milukov declared in the duma: "if a revolution were necessary for victory, i would prefer no victory at all." yet the liberals are now in power--through the revolution. the bourgeois newspaper men see nothing but this fact. milukov, already in his capacity as a minister of foreign affairs, has declared that the revolution has been conducted in the name of a victory over the enemy, and that the new government has taken upon itself to continue the war to a victorious end. the new york stock exchange interpreted the revolution in this specific sense. there are clever people both on the stock exchange and among the bourgeois newspaper men. yet they are all amazingly stupid when they come to deal with mass-movements. they think that milukov manages the revolution, in the same sense as they manage their banks or news offices. they see only the liberal governmental reflection of the unfolding events, they notice only the foam on the surface of the historical torrent. the long pent-up dissatisfaction of the masses has burst forth so late, in the thirty-second month of the war, not because the masses were held by police barriers--those barriers had been badly shattered during the war--but because all liberal institutions and organs, together with their social-patriotic shadows, were exerting an enormous influence over the least enlightened elements of the workingmen, urging them to keep order and discipline in the name of "patriotism." hungry women were already walking out into the streets, and the workingmen were getting ready to uphold them by a general strike, while the liberal bourgeoisie, according to news reports, still issued proclamations and delivered speeches to check the movement,--resembling that famous heroine of dickens who tried to stem the tide of the ocean with a broom. the movement, however, took its course, from below, from the workingmen's quarters. after hours and days of uncertainty, of shooting, of skirmishes, the army joined in the revolution, from below, from the best of the soldier masses. the old government was powerless, paralyzed, annihilated. the tzar fled from the capital "to the front." the black hundred bureaucrats crept, like cockroaches, each into his corner. then, and only then, came the duma's turn to act. the tzar had attempted in the last minute to dissolve it. and the duma would have obeyed, "following the example of former years," had it been free to adjourn. the capitals, however, were already dominated by the revolutionary people, the same people that had walked out into the streets despite the wishes of the liberal bourgeoisie. the army was with the people. had not the bourgeoisie attempted to organize its own government, a revolutionary government would have emerged from the revolutionary working masses. the duma of june rd would never have dared to seize the power from the hands of tzarism. but it did not want to miss the chance offered by interregnum: the monarchy had disappeared, while a revolutionary government was not yet formed. contrary to all their part, contrary to their own policies and against their will, the liberals found themselves in possession of power. milukov now declares russia will continue the war "to the end." it is not easy for him so to speak: he knows that his words are apt to arouse the indignation of the masses against the new government. yet he had to speak to them--for the sake of the london, paris and american stock exchanges. it is quite possible that he cabled his declaration for foreign consumption only, and that he concealed it from his own country. milukov knows very well that _under given conditions he cannot continue the war, crush germany, dismember austria, occupy constantinople and poland_. the masses have revolted, demanding bread and peace. the appearance of a few liberals at the head of the government has not fed the hungry, has not healed the wounds of the people. to satisfy the most urgent, the most acute needs of the people, _peace_ must be restored. the liberal imperialistic bloc does not dare to speak of peace. they do not do it, first, on account of the allies. they do not do it, further, because the liberal bourgeoisie is to a great extent responsible before the people for the present war. the milukovs and gutchkovs, not less than the romanoff camarilla, have thrown the country into this monstrous imperialistic adventure. to stop the war, to return to the ante-bellum misery would mean that they have to account to the people for this undertaking. the milukovs and gutchkovs are afraid of the liquidation of the war not less than they were afraid of the revolution. this is their aspect in their new capacity, as the government of russia. they are compelled to continue the war, and they can have no hope of victory; they are afraid of the people, and people do not trust them. this is how karl marx characterized a similar situation: "from the very beginning ready to betray the people and to compromise with the crowned representatives of the old régime, because the bourgeoisie itself belongs to the old world; ... keeping a place at the steering wheel of the revolution not because the people were back of them, but because the people pushed them forward; ... having no faith in themselves, no faith in the people; grumbling against those above, trembling before those below; selfish towards both fronts and aware of their selfishness; revolutionary in the face of conservatives, and conservative in the face of revolutionists, with no confidence in their own slogans and with phrases instead of ideas; frightened by the world's storm and exploiting the world's storm,--vulgar through lack of originality, and original only in vulgarity; making profitable business out of their own desires, with no initiative, with no vocation for world-wide historic work ... a cursed senile creature condemned to direct and abuse in his own senile interests the first youthful movements of a powerful people,--a creature with no eyes, with no ears, with no teeth, with nothing whatever,--this is how the prussian bourgeoisie stood at the steering wheel of the prussian state after the march revolution." these words of the great master give a perfect picture of the russian liberal bourgeoisie, as it stands at the steering wheel of the government after _our_ march revolution. "with no faith in themselves, with no faith in the people, with no eyes, with no teeth." ... this is their political face. luckily for russia and europe, there is another face to the russian revolution, a genuine face: the cables have brought the news that the provisional government is opposed by a workmen's committee which has already raised a voice of protest against the liberal attempt to rob the revolution and to deliver the people to the monarchy. should the russian revolution stop to-day as the representatives of liberalism advocate, to-morrow the reaction of the tzar, the nobility and the bureaucracy would gather power and drive milukov and gutchkov from their insecure ministerial trenches, as did the prussian reaction years ago with the representatives of prussian liberalism. but the russian revolution will not stop. time will come, and the revolution will make a clean sweep of the bourgeois liberals blocking its way, as it is now making a clean sweep of the tzarism reaction. (published in new york on march , .) _june third_, , was the day on which, after the dissolution of the first and second dumas, the tzar's government, in defiance of the constitution, promulgated a new electoral law which eliminated from the russian quasi-parliament large groups of democratic voters, thus securing a "tame" majority obedient to the command of the government. to say "the duma of june third" is equivalent to saying: "a duma dominated by representatives of rich land-owners and big business," generally working hand in hand with autocracy, though pretending to be representatives of the people. in the duma of june third, the octobrists and all parties to the right of them were with the government, the constitutional democrats (cadets) and all parties to the left of them were in the opposition. the _progressive bloc_ was formed in the duma in . it included a number of liberal and conservative factions, together with the cadets, and was opposed to the government. its program was a cabinet responsible to the duma. the growing conflict an open conflict between the forces of the revolution, headed by the city proletariat and the anti-revolutionary liberal bourgeoisie temporarily at the head of the government, is more and more impending. it cannot be avoided. of course, the liberal bourgeoisie and the quasi-socialists of the vulgar type will find a collection of very touching slogans as to "national unity" against class divisions; yet no one has ever succeeded in removing social contrasts by conjuring with words or in checking the natural progress of revolutionary struggle. the internal history of unfolding events is known to us only in fragments, through casual remarks in the official telegrams. but even now it is apparent that on two points the revolutionary proletariat is bound to oppose the liberal bourgeoisie with ever-growing determination. the first conflict has already arisen around the question of the form of government. the russian bourgeoisie needs a monarchy. in all the countries pursuing an imperialistic policy, we observe an unusual increase of personal power. the policy of world usurpations, secret treaties and open treachery requires independence from parliamentary control and a guarantee against changes in policies caused by the change of cabinets. moreover, for the propertied classes the monarchy is the most secure ally in its struggle against the revolutionary onslaught of the proletariat. in russia both these causes are more effective than elsewhere. the russian bourgeoisie finds it impossible to deny the people universal suffrage, well aware that this would arouse opposition against the provisional government among the masses, and give prevalence to the left, the more determined wing of the proletariat in the revolution. even that monarch of the reserve, michael alexandrovitch, understands that he cannot reach the throne without having promised "universal, equal, direct and secret suffrage." it is the more essential for the bourgeoisie to create right now a monarchic counterbalance against the deepest social-revolutionary demands of the working masses. _formally_, in words, the bourgeoisie has agreed to leave the question of a form of government to the discretion of the constituent assembly. practically, however, the octobrist-cadet provisional government will turn all the preparatory work for the constituent assembly into a campaign in favor of a monarchy against a republic. the character of the constituent assembly will largely depend upon the character of those who convoke it. it is evident, therefore, that right now the revolutionary proletariat will have _to set up its own organs, the councils of workingmen's soldiers' and peasants' deputies, against the executive organs of the provisional government_. in this struggle the proletariat ought to unite about itself the rising masses of the people, with one aim in view--_to seize governmental power_. only a revolutionary labor government will have the desire and ability to give the country a thorough democratic cleansing during the work preparatory to the constituent assembly, to reconstruct the army from top to bottom, to turn it into _a revolutionary militia_ and to show the poorer peasants in practice that their only salvation is in a support of a revolutionary labor régime. a constituent assembly convoked after such preparatory work will truly reflect the revolutionary, creative forces of the country and become a powerful factor in the further development of the revolution. the second question that is bound to bring the internationally inclined socialist proletariat in opposition to the imperialistic liberal bourgeoisie, is _the question of war and peace_. (published in new york, march , .) war or peace? the question of chief interest, now, to the governments and the peoples of the world is, what will be the influence of the russian revolution on the war? will it bring peace nearer? or will the revolutionary enthusiasm of the people swing towards a more vigorous prosecution of the war? this is a great question. on its solution depends not only the outcome of the war, but the fate of the revolution itself. in , milukov, the present militant minister of foreign affairs, called the russo-japanese war an adventure and demanded its immediate cessation. this was also the spirit of the liberal and radical press. the strongest industrial organizations favored immediate peace in spite of unequaled disasters. why was it so? because they expected internal reforms. the establishment of a constitutional system, a parliamentary control over the budget and the state finances, a better school system and, especially, an increase in the land possessions of the peasants, would, they hoped, increase the prosperity of the population and create a _vast internal market_ for russian industry. it is true that even then, twelve years ago, the russian bourgeoisie was ready to usurp land belonging to others. it hoped, however, that abolition of feudal relations in the village would create a more powerful market than the annexation of manchuria or corea. the democratization of the country and liberation of the peasants, however, turned out to be a slow process. neither the tzar, nor the nobility, nor the bureaucracy were willing to yield any of their prerogatives. liberal exhortations were not enough to make them give up the machinery of the state and their land possessions. a revolutionary onslaught of the masses was required. this the bourgeoisie did not want. the agrarian revolts of the peasants, the ever growing struggle of the proletariat and the spread of insurrections in the army caused the liberal bourgeoisie to fall back into the camp of the tzarist bureaucracy and reactionary nobility. their alliance was sealed by the _coup d'état_ of june rd, . out of this _coup d'état_ emerged the third and the fourth dumas. the peasants received no land. the administrative system changed only in name, not in substance. the development of an internal market consisting of prosperous farmers, after the american fashion, did not take place. the capitalist classes, reconciled with the régime of june rd, turned their attention to the usurpation of foreign markets. a new era of russian imperialism ensues, an imperialism accompanied by a disorderly financial and military system and by insatiable appetites. gutchkov, the present war minister, was formerly a member of the committee on national defense, helping to make the army and the navy complete. milukov, the present minister of foreign affairs, worked out a program of world conquests which he advocated on his trips to europe. russian imperialism and his octobrist and cadet representatives bear a great part of the responsibility for the present war. by the grace of the revolution which they had not wanted and which they had fought, gutchkov and milukov are now in power. for the continuation of the war, for victory? of course! they are the same persons who had dragged the country into the war for the sake of the interests of capital. all their opposition to tzarism had its source in their unsatisfied imperialistic appetites. so long as the clique of nicholas ii. was in power, the interests of the dynasty and of the reactionary nobility were prevailing in russian foreign affairs. this is why berlin and vienna had hoped to conclude a separate peace with russia. now, purely imperialistic interests have superseded the tzarism interests; pure imperialism is written on the banner of the provisional government. "the government of the tzar is gone," the milukovs and gutchkovs say to the people, "now you must shed your blood for the common interests of the entire nation." those interests the imperialists understand as the reincorporation of poland, the conquest of galicia, constantinople, armenia, persia. this transition from an imperialism of the dynasty and the nobility to an imperialism of a purely bourgeois character, can never reconcile the russian proletariat to the war. an international struggle against the world slaughter and imperialism are now our task more than ever. the last despatches which tell of an anti-militaristic propaganda in the streets of petrograd show that our comrades are bravely doing their duty. _the imperialistic boasts of milukov to crush germany, austria and turkey are the most effective and most timely aid for the hohenzollerns and hapsburgs...._ milukov will now serve as a scare-crow in their hands. the liberal imperialistic government of russia has not yet started reform in its own army, yet it is already helping the hohenzollerns to raise the patriotic spirit and to mend the shattered "national unity" of the german people. should the german proletariat be given a right to think that all the russian people and the main force of the russian revolution, the proletariat, are behind the bourgeois government of russia, it would be a terrific blow to the men of our trend of mind, the revolutionary socialists of germany. to turn the russian proletariat into patriotic cannon food in the service of the russian liberal bourgeoisie would mean _to throw the german working masses into the camp of the chauvinists and for a long time to halt the progress of a revolution in germany_. the prime duty of the revolutionary proletariat in russia is to show that there is _no power_ behind the evil imperialistic will of the liberal bourgeoisie. the russian revolution has to show the entire world its real face. _the further progress of the revolutionary struggle in russia and the creation of a revolutionary labor government supported by the people will be a mortal blow to the hohenzollerns because it will give a powerful stimulus to the revolutionary movement of the german proletariat and of the labor masses of all the other countries._ if the first russian revolution of brought about revolutions in asia--in persia, turkey, china--the second russian revolution will be the beginning of a powerful social-revolutionary struggle in europe. only this struggle will bring real peace to the blood-drenched world. no, the russian proletariat will not allow itself to be harnessed to the chariot of milukov imperialism. the banner of russian social-democracy is now, more than ever before, glowing with bright slogans of inflexible internationalism: away with imperialistic robbers! long live a revolutionary labor government! long live peace and the brotherhood of nations! (published in new york, march , .) trotzky on the platform in petrograd (from a russian paper) trotzky, always trotzky. since i had seen him the last time, he has been advanced in rank: he has become the chairman of the petrograd soviet. he has succeeded tchcheidze, the wise, sober leader who has lost the confidence of the revolutionary masses. he holds the place of lenin, the recognized leader of the left wing of social-democracy, whose absence from the capital is due to external, accidental causes. it seems to me that trotzky has become more nervous, more gloomy, and more restrained. something like a freezing chill emanates from his deep and restless eyes; a cool, determined, ironical smile plays around his mobile jewish lips, and there is a chill in his well-balanced, clear-cut words which he throws into his audience with a peculiar calmness. he seems almost lonesome on the platform. only a small group of followers applaud. the others protest against his words or cast angry, restless glances at him. he is in a hostile gathering. he is a stranger. is he not also a stranger to those who applaud him and in whose name he speaks from this platform? calm and composed he looks at his adversaries, and you feel it is a peculiar joy for him to see the rage, the fear, the excitement his words provoke. he is a mephisto who throws words like bombs to create a war of brothers at the bedside of their sick mother. he knows in advance which words will have the greatest effect, which would provoke the most bitter resentment. and the more extreme, the more painful his words are, the firmer and stronger is his voice, the slower his speech, the more challenging his tone. he speaks a sentence, then he stops to wait till the storm is over, then he repeats his assertion, with sharper intonation and with more disdain in his tone. only his eyes become more nervous, and a peculiar disquieting fire is blazing in them. this time he does not speak; he reads a written declaration. he reads it with pauses, sometimes accentuating the words, sometimes passing over them quickly, but all the time he is aware of the effect and waits for a response. his voice is the voice of a prophet, a preacher: "petrograd is in danger! the revolution is in danger! the people are in danger!" ... he is a stranger on the platform, and yet--electric currents flow from him to his surroundings, creating sincere though primitive enthusiasm on one side, on the other anger and spite. he opens vast perspectives before the naïve faithful masses: "long live an immediate, honest, democratic peace!" "all power to the workmen's councils! all the land to the people!" index absolutism, rôle of, in outgrowing economic basis, ; in promoting industry and science, , ; as an end in itself, - . agrarian question, - . armament for the revolution, - . army, , , . bourgeoisie, imperialistic plans of, - ; afraid of peace, - ; reactionary, - ; responsible for the war, - . capitalism, preparing its own collapse, - ; and feudal reaction, - . cities, as scene of revolutionary battles, ; social structure of, - . class consciousness, of proletariat, as prerequisite to socialism, - . constituent assembly, as a revolutionary slogan, - . demonstrations, in the streets, - ; to become of nation-wide magnitude, . french revolution, - . gapon, , ; - . intelligentzia, . january ninth, ; - ; - . june third, . labor dictatorship, - ; crushing absolutism, abandoning its remnants, - ; introducing class politics, ; introducing class struggle in the village, - ; introducing collectivism and internationalism, ; abandoning distinction between minimum and maximum program, ; and eight hour workday, - ; and unemployment, - ; and agriculture, ; and collectivism, - ; and class consciousness, - ; incompatible with economic slavery, ; and agrarian question, - . liberalism, denying the existence of revolutionary masses, - ; defeated by events of january th, ; trying to "tame" revolutionary people, ; not reliable as partner in revolution, - ; - . manoeuvers, revolutionary, - . masses, drawn into the revolution, - ; as a political reality, - ; stirred by world-war, - . middle-class (_see_ bourgeoisie), weakness of, in russia, , . militia, - . "osvoboshdenie," , , . peasantry, as of no significance in revolution, - . poland, as possible revolutionary link between russia and europe, - . prerequisites to socialism, in relation to each other, - . proletariat, as a vanguard of the revolution, - ; rôle of, in events of january th, - ; stronger than bourgeoisie in russia, ; growing with capitalism, ; may sooner reach political supremacy in a backward country, - ; - ; as liberator of peasants, - ; as a class objectively opposed to capitalism, - ; to revolutionize european proletariat, - . revolution, in europe, as aid to socialism in russia, - ; may be result of shattered european equilibrium, - ; as result of russian revolution, - . revolution, in general, ; of bourgeois character, - . revolution, of _ _, - . revolution, of _ _, its causes, - ; social forces in, - ; to stir up revolution in germany, . social-democracy, foresaw revolution, - ; natural leader of the revolution, - . soviet, distinguishing russian revolution from that of _ _, ; short history of, ; general survey of the rôle of, - ; as class-organization, - ; as organ of political authority, - ; an imminent form of russian revolution, ; program of (outlined by trotzky for the future), - ; to fight against provisional government, . "spring," - ; ; . strike, political, as beginning of revolution, - ; , . struve, . technique, industrial, as prerequisite to socialism, ; - . "underground," and the revolutionist, - . war, russo-japanese, ; of the world, as influencing masses, - . witte, , . zemstvo, movement of, in _ _, - ; ; . transcriber's notes: obvious typesetting errors have been corrected. questionable or vintage spelling has been left as printed in the original publication. variations in spelling have been left as printed, unless otherwise noted in the following. in the original publication, each chapter listed in the contents section was preceded by a "title page" containing only the chapter title as listed in the contents, followed by a blank page. the chapter title was repeated on the first page in each chapter. the chapter title pages have not been reproduced in this transcription. page : the following phrase, beginning a quotation, has no closing quotation mark in the original publication: "the struggle for the interests of russia as a whole...." page : transcribed "on" as "of" to match the quoted phrase on p. : "private ownership of the means of production". originally printed as: "'private ownership on the means of production'". page : transcribed "caucasas" as "caucasus". as originally printed: "the insurrection on the caucasas and in the lettish provinces." page : supplied "to" in the following phrase, shown in brackets: "yet he had to speak [to] them...." [illustration: route of _m de lesseps_ consul of france, _in the peninsula of_ kamtschatka, _and along the gulf of pengina, from the_ port of s^t. peter & s^t. paul _as far as_ yamsk.] travels in kamtschatka, during the years and . translated from the french of m. de lesseps, consul of france, and interpreter to the count de la perouse, now engaged in a voyage round the world, by command of his most christian majesty. in two volumes. volume i. london: printed for j. johnson, st. paul's church-yard. . preface. my work is merely a journal of my travels. why should i take any steps to prepossess the judgment of my reader? shall i not have more claim to his indulgence when i have assured him, that it was not originally my intention to write a book? will not my account be the more interesting, when it is known, that my sole inducement to employ my pen was the necessity i found of filling up my leisure moments, and that my vanity extended no farther than to give my friends a faithful journal of the difficulties i had to encounter, and the observations i made on my road? it is evident i wrote by intervals, negligently or with care, as circumstances permitted, or as the impressions made by the objects around me were more or less forcible. conscious of my own inexperience, i thought it a duty i owed myself to let slip no opportunity of acquiring information, as if i had foreseen, that i should be called to account for the time i had spent, and the knowledge which i had it in my power to obtain: but perhaps the scrupulous exactness to which i confined myself, entailed on my narration a want of elegance and variety. the events which relate personally to myself are so connected with the subject of my remarks, that i have taken no care to suppress them. i may therefore, not undeservedly, be reproached with having spoken too much of myself: but this is the prevailing sin of travellers of my age. besides this, i am ready to accuse myself of frequent repetitions, which would have been avoided by a more experienced pen. on certain subjects, particularly in respect of travels, it is scarcely possible to avoid an uniformity of style. to paint the same objects, we must employ the same colours; hence similar expressions are continually recurring. with respect to the pronunciation of the russian, kamtschadale, and other foreign words, i shall observe, that all the letters are to be articulated distinctly. i have thought it adviseable, even in the vocabulary, to reject those consonants, the confused assemblage of which discourages the reader, and is not always necessary, the _kh_ is to be pronounced as the _ch_ of the germans, or the _j_ of the spaniards, and the _ch_ as in the french. the finals _oi_ and _in_, are to be pronounced, the former as an improper diphthong (_oï_) and the latter in the english, not in the french manner. the delay of publishing this journal renders some excuse necessary. unquestionably i might have given it to the world sooner, and it was my duty to have done it; but my gratitude bad me wait the return of the count de la perouse. what is my journey, said i to myself? to the public, it is only an appendage to the important expedition of that gentleman; to myself, it is an honourable proof of his confidence: i had a double motive to submit my account to his inspection. my own interest also prescribed this to me. how happy should i have been, if, permitting me to publish my travels as a supplement to his, he had deigned to render me an associate of his fame! this, i confess, was the sole end of my ambition; the sole cause of my delay. how cruel for me, after a year of impatient expectation, to see the wished for period still more distant! not a day has passed since my arrival, on which my wishes have not recalled the astrolabe and boussole. how often, traversing in imagination the seas they had to cross, have i sought to trace their progress, to follow then from port to port, to calculate their delays, and to measure all the windings of their course! when at the moment of our separation in kamtschatka, the officers of our vessels sorrowfully embraced me as lost, who would have said, that i should first revisit my native country; that many of them would never see it more; and that in a little time i should shed tears over their fate! scarcely, in effect, had i time to congratulate myself on the success of my mission, and the embraces of my family, when the report of our misfortunes in the archipelago of navigators arrived, to fill my heart with sorrow and affection. the viscount de langle, that brave and loyal seaman, the friend, the companion of our commander; a man whom i loved and respected as my father, is no more! my pen refuses to trace his unfortunate end, but my gratitude indulges itself in repeating, that the remembrance of his virtues and his kindness to me, will live eternally in my bosom. reader, who ever thou art, pardon this involuntary effusion of my grief. hadst thou known him whom i lament, thou wouldst mingle thy tears with mine: like me thou wouldst pray to heaven, that, for our consolation, and for the glory of france, the commander of the expedition, and those of our brave argonauts, whom it has preserved, may soon return. ah! if whilst i write, a favourable gale should fill their sails, and impel them towards our shores!--may this prayer of my heart be heard! may the day on which these volumes are published, be that of their arrival! in the excess of my joy, my self-love would find the highest gratification. contents to vol. i. page i quit the french frigates, and receive my dispatches departure of the frigates impossibility of going to okotsk before sledges can be used details respecting the port of st. peter and st. paul nature of the soil climate rivers that have their mouth in the bay of avatscha departure from st. peter and st. paul's with m. kasloff and m. schmaleff arrival at paratounka description of this ostrog kamtschadale habitations balagans isbas chief or judge of an ostrog arrival at koriaki arrival at the baths of natchikin description of the baths mode of analizing the hot waters result of our experiments mode of hunting a sable departure from natchikin, and details of our journey arrival at apatchin at bolcheretsk, &c. shipwreck of an okotsk galiot hamlet of tchekafki mouth of the bolchaïa-reka terrible hurricane description of bolcheretsk, where i stayed till january population fraudulent commerce of the cossacs and others commerce in general mode of living of the inhabitants and the kamtschades in general dress _ib._ food drink indigenes reflections on the manners of the inhabitants balls kamtschadale feasts and dances bear hunting hunting fishing scarcity of horses dogs _ib._ sledges diseases medical sorcerers strong constitution of the women remedy learned from the bear religion churches tributes coins pay of the soldiers government _ib._ tribunals successions divorces _ib._ punishments idiom climate my long stay at bolcheretsk accounted for departure from bolcheretsk arrival at apatchin origin of the ill opinion the inhabitants of kamtschatka have of the french beniouski m. schmaleff quits us arrival at malkin at ganal at pouschiné isbas without chimneys _ib._ kamtschadale lamp filthiness of the inhabitants the roads obstructed with snow ostrog of charom arrival at vereknei kamtschatka _ib._ ivaschin, an unfortunate exile colony of peasants ostrog of kirgann description of my dress visit the baron stenheil at machoure new details respecting the chamans or sorcerers alarmed at a report of the koriacs having revolted nikoulka rivers volcanos of tolbatchina early marriages i quit m. kasloff to go to nijenei kamtschatka ostrog of ouchkoff of krestoff volcano of klutchefskaïa klutchefskaïa inhabited by siberian peasants _ib._ ostrog of kamini arrival at nijenei _ib._ entertainment given by the governor tribunals of nijenei account of nine japanese whom i found there departure from nijenei kamtschatka i rejoin m. kasloff overtaken by a tempest, which obliges us to halt _ib._ manner in which the kamtschades made their bed on the snow ostrog of ozernoi of onké _ib._ of khalali of ivaschin of drannki of karagui yourts described singular dress of the children of karagui koriacs supply us with rein deer account of the two sorts of koriacs a celebrated female dancer fondness of the kamtschadales for tobacco departure from karagui manner of our halting in the open country our dogs begin to suffer from famine soldier sent to kaminoi for succour arrival at gavenki dispute between a sergeant of our company and two peasants of the village the inhabitants refuse us fish departure from gavenki misled by our guide our dogs die of hunger and fatigue we are apprehhensive of being starved to death in a desert _ib._ obliged to leave our equipage new distresses _ib._ arrival at poustaretsk fruitless attempts to find provisions melancholy spectacle exhibited by our dogs _ib._ soldier sent to kaminoi, stopt in his way by tempests sergeant kabechoff sets out for kaminoi description of poustaretsk and its environs food upon which the inhabitants lived during our stay their mode of catching rein deer occupations of the women method of smoking dress m. schmaleff joins us distressing answer from sergeant kabechoff m. kasloff receives news of his promotion i resolve to leave him calm established among the koriacs m. kasloff gives me his dispatches, and the passports necessary for my safety my regret at leaving him travels in kamtschatka, &c. i have scarcely completed my twenty-fifth year, and am arrived at the most memorable æra of my life. however long, or however happy may be my future career, i doubt whether it will ever be my fate to be employed in so glorious an expedition as that in which two french frigates, the boussole, and the astrolabe, are at this moment engaged; the first commanded by count de la perouse, chief of the expedition, and the second by viscount de langle[ ]. the report of this voyage round the world, created too general and lively an interest, for direct news of these illustrious navigators, reclaimed by their country and by all europe from the seas they traverse, not to be expected with as much impatience as curiosity. how flattering is it to my heart, after having obtained from count de la perouse the advantage of accompanying him for more than two years, to be farther indebted to him for the honour of conveying his dispatches over land into france! the more i reflect upon this additional proof of his confidence, the more i feel what such an embassy requires, and how far i am deficient; and i can only attribute his preference, to the necessity of choosing for this journey, a person who had resided in russia, and could speak its language. on the september , the king's frigates entered the port of avatscha, or saint peter and saint paul[ ], at the southern extremity of the peninsula of kamtschatka. the , i was ordered to quit the astrolabe; and the same day count de la perouse gave me his dispatches and instructions. his regard for me would not permit him to confine his cares to the most satisfactory arrangements for the safety and convenience of my journey; he went farther, and gave me the affectionate counsels of a father, which will never be obliterated from my heart. viscount de langle had the goodness to join his also, which proved equally beneficial to me. let me be permitted in this place to pay my just tribute of gratitude to the faithful companion of the dangers and the glory of count de la perouse, and his rival in every other court, as well as that of france, for having acted towards me, upon all occasions, as a counsellor, a friend, and a father. in the evening i was to take my leave of the commander and his worthy colleague. judge what i suffered, when i conducted them back to the boats that waited for them. i was incapable of speaking, or of quitting them; they embraced me in turns, and my tears too plainly told them the situation of my mind. the officers who were on shore, received also my adieux: they were affected, offered prayers to heaven for my safety, and gave me every consolation and succour that their friendship could dictate. my regret at leaving them cannot be described; i was torn from their arms, and found myself in those of colonel kasloff-ougrenin, governor general of okotsk and kamtschatka, to whom count de la perouse had recommended me, more as his son, than an officer charged with his dispatches. at this moment commenced my obligations to the russian governor. i knew not then all the sweetness of his character, incessantly disposed to acts of kindness, and which i have since had so many reasons to admire[ ]. he treated my feelings with the utmost address. i saw the tear of sympathy in his eye upon the departure of the boats, which we followed as far as our sight would permit; and in conducting me to his house, he spared no pains to divert me from my melancholy reflections. to conceive the frightful void which my mind experienced at this moment, it is necessary to be in my situation, and left alone in these scarcely discovered regions, four thousand leagues from my native land: without calculating this enormous distance, the dreary aspect of the country sufficiently prognosticated what i should have to suffer during my long and perilous route; but the reception which i met with from the inhabitants, and the civilities of m. kasloff and the other russian officers, made me by degrees less sensible to the departure of my countrymen. it took place on the morning of september. they set sail with a wind that carried them out of sight in a few hours, and continued favourable for several days. it will readily be believed, that i did not see them depart without offering the most sincere wishes for all my friends on board; the last sad homage of my gratitude and attachment. count de la perouse had recommended diligence to me, but enjoined me, at the same time, upon no pretext to quit m. kasloff; an injunction that was perfectly agreeable to my inclinations. the governor had promised to conduct me as far as okotsk, which was the place of his residence, and to which it was necessary that he should repair immediately. i had already felt the happiness of being placed in such good hands, and i made no scruple of surrendering myself implicitly to his direction. his intention was to go as far as bolcheretsk, and there wait till we could avail ourselves of sledges, which would greatly facilitate our journey to okotsk. the season was too far advanced for us to risk an attempt by land, and the passage by sea was not less dangerous; besides there was no vessel either in the port of saint peter and saint paul, or of bolcheretsk[ ]. m. kasloff had his affairs to settle, which, with the preparations for our departure, detained us six days longer, and afforded me time to satisfy myself that the frigates were not likely to return. i embraced this opportunity of commencing my observations, and making minutes of every thing about me. i attended particularly to the bay of avatcha, and the port of saint peter and saint paul, in order to give a just idea of them. this bay has been minutely described by captain cook, and we found his account to be accurate. it has since undergone some alterations; which, it is said, are to be followed by many others; particularly as to the port of saint peter and saint paul. it is possible indeed, that the very next ship which shall arrive, expecting to find only five or six houses, may be surprised with the sight of an entire town, built of wood, but tolerably fortified. such at least is the projected plan, which, as i learned indirectly, is to be ascribed to m. kasloff, whose views are equally great, and conducive to the service of his mistress. the execution of this plan will contribute not a little to increase the celebrity of the port, already made famous by the foreign vessels which have touched there, as well as by its favourable situation for commerce[ ]. to understand the nature, and estimate the utility of this project, nothing more is necessary than to have an idea of the extent and form of the bay of avatscha, and the port in question. we have already many accurate descriptions, which are in the hands of every one. i shall therefore confine myself to what may tend to illustrate the views of m. kasloff. the port of st. peter and st. paul, is known to be situated at the north of the entrance of the bay, and closed in at the south by a very narrow neck of land, upon which the ostrog[ ], or village of kamtschatka is built. upon an eminence to the east, at the most interior point of the bay, is the house of the governor[ ], with whom m. kasloff resided during his stay. near this house, almost in the same line, is that of a corporal of the garrison, and a little higher inclining to the north, that of the serjeant, who, next to the governor, are the only persons at all distinguished in this settlement, if indeed it deserves the name of settlement. opposite to the entrance of the port, on the declivity of the eminence, from which a lake of considerable extent is seen, are the ruins of the hospital mentioned in captain cooke's voyage[ ]. below these, and nearer the shore, is a building which serves as a magazine to the garrison, and which is constantly guarded by a centinel. such was the state in which we found the port of st. peter and st. paul. by the proposed augmentation, it will evidently become an interesting place. the entrance was to be closed, or at least flanked by fortifications, which were to serve at the same time as a defence, on this side, to the projected town, which was chiefly to be built upon the site of the old hospital; that is, between the port and the lake. a battery also was to be erected upon the neck of land which separates the bay from the lake, in order to protect the other part of the town. in short, by this plan, the entrance of the bay would be defended by a sufficiently strong battery upon the least elevated point of the left coast; and vessels entering the bay could not escape the cannon, because of the breakers on the right. there is at present upon the point of a rock, a battery of six or eight cannon, lately erected to salute our frigates. i need not add, that the augmentation of the garrison forms a part of the plan, which consists only at present of forty soldiers, or cossacs. their mode of living and their dress are similar to the kamtschadales, except that in time of service they have a sabre, firelock, and cartouch box; in other respects they are not distinguishable from the indigenes, but by their features and idiom. with respect to the kamtschadale village, which forms a considerable part of the place, and is situated, as i have already said, upon the narrow projection of land which closes in the entrance of the port, it is at present composed of from thirty to forty habitations, including winter and summer ones, called _isbas_ and _balagans_; and the number of inhabitants, taking in the garrison, does not exceed a hundred, men, women and children. the intention is to increase them to upwards of four hundred. to these details respecting the port of st. peter and st. paul, and its destined improvements, i shall add a few remarks upon the nature of the soil, the climate, and the rivers. the banks of the bay of avatscha are rendered difficult of access by high mountains, of which some are covered with wood, and others have volcanos[ ]. the valleys present a vegetation that astonished me. the grass was nearly of the height of a man; and the rural flowers, such as the wild roses and others that are interspersed with them, diffuse far and wide a most grateful smell. the rains are in general heavy during spring and autumn, and blasts of wind are frequent in autumn and winter. the latter is sometimes rainy; but notwithstanding its length, they assured me that its severity is not very extreme, at least in this southern part of kamtschatka[ ]. the snow begins to appear on the ground in october, and the thaw does not take place till april or may; but even in july it is seen to fall upon the summit of high mountains, and particularly volcanos. the summer is tolerably fine; the strongest heats scarcely last beyond the solstice. thunder is seldom heard, and is never productive of injury. such is the temperature of almost all this part of the peninsula. two rivers pour their waters into the bay of avatscha; that from which the bay is named, and the paratounka. they both abound with fish, and every species of water fowl, but these are so wild, that it is not possible to approach within fifty yards of them. the navigation of these rivers is impracticable after the november, because they are always frozen at this time; and in the depth of winter the bay itself is covered with sheets of ice, which are kept there by the wind blowing from the sea; but they are completely dispelled as soon as it blows from the land. the port of st. peter and st. paul is commonly shut up by the ice in the month of january. i should doubtless say something in this place of the manners and customs of the kamtschadales, of their houses, or rather huts, which they call _isbas_ or _balagans_; but i must defer this till my arrival at bolcheretsk, where i expect to have more leisure, and a better opportunity of describing them minutely. we departed from the port of saint peter and saint paul the october. our company consisted of messrs. kasloff, schmaleff[ ], vorokhoff[ ], ivaschkin[ ], myself, and the suite of the governor, amounting to four serjeants, and an equal number of soldiers. the commanding officer of the port, probably out of respect to m. kasloff, his superior, joined our little troop, and we embarked upon _baidars_[ ] in order to cross the bay and reach paratounka, where we were to be supplied with horses to proceed on our route. in five or six hours we arrived at this ostrog, where the priest[ ], or rector of the district resides, and whose church also is in this place[ ]. his house served us for a lodging, and we were treated with the utmost hospitality; but we had scarcely entered when the rain fell in such abundance, that we were obliged to stay longer than we wished. i eagerly embraced this short interval to describe some of the objects which i had deferred till my arrival at bolcheretsk, where, perhaps, i may find others that will not be less interesting. the ostrog of paratounka is situated by the side of a river of that name, about two leagues from its mouth[ ]. this village is scarcely more populous than that of st. peter and st. paul. the small pox has, in this place particularly, made dreadful ravages. the number of balagans and isbas seemed to be very nearly the same as at petropavlofska[ ]. the kamtschadales lodge in the first during summer, and retreat to the last in winter. as it is thought desirable that they should be brought gradually to resemble the russian peasants, they are prohibited, in this southern part of kamtschatka, from constructing any more _yourts_, or subterraneous habitations; these are all destroyed at present[ ], a few vestiges only remain of them, filled up within, and appearing externally like the roofs of our ice-houses. the balagans are elevated above the ground upon a number of posts, placed at equal distances, and about twelve or thirteen feet high. this rough sort of colonnade supports in the air a platform made of rafters, joined to one another, and overspread with clay: this platform serves as a floor to the whole building, which consists of a roof in the shape of a cone, covered with a kind of thatch, or dried grass, placed upon long poles fastened together at the top, and bearing upon the rafters. this is at once the first and last story; it forms the whole apartment, or rather chamber: an opening in the roof serves instead of a chimney to let out the smoke, when a fire is lighted to dress their victuals; this cookery is performed in the middle of the room, where they eat and sleep pell-mell together without the least disgust or scruple. in these apartments, windows are out of the question; there is merely a door, so low and narrow, that it will scarcely suffice to admit the light. the staircase is worthy of the rest of the building; it consists of a beam, or rather a tree jagged in a slovenly manner, one end of which rests on the ground, and the other is raised to the height of the floor. it is placed at the angle of the door, upon a level, with a kind of open gallery that is erected before it. this tree retains its roundness, and presents on one side something like steps, but they are so incommodious that i was more than once in danger of breaking my neck. in reality, whenever this vile ladder turns under the feet of those who are not accustomed to it, it is impossible to preserve an equilibrium; a fall must be the consequence, more or less dangerous, in proportion to the height. when they wish persons to be informed that there is nobody at home, they merely turn the staircase, with the steps inward. motives of convenience may have suggested to these people the idea of building such strange dwellings, which their mode of living renders necessary and commodious. their principal food being dried fish, which is also the nourishment of their dogs, it is necessary, in order to dry their fish, and other provisions, that they should have a place sheltered from the heat of the sun, and at the same time perfectly exposed to the air. under the collonnades or rustic porticos, which form the lower part of their balagans, they find this convenience; and there they hang their fish, either to the ceiling or to the sides, that it may be out of the reach of the voraciousness of their dogs. the kamtschadales make use of dogs[ ] to draw their sledges; the best, that is the most vicious, have no other kennel than what the portico of the balagans affords them, to the posts of which they are tied. such are the advantages resulting from the singular mode of constructing the balagans, or summer habitations of the kamtschadales. those of winter are less singular; and if equally large, would exactly resemble the habitations of the russian peasants. these have been so often described, that it is universally known how they are constructed and arranged. the isbas are built of wood; that is to say, the walls are formed by placing long trees horizontally upon one another, and filling up the interstices with clay. the roof slants like our thatched houses, and is covered with coarse grass, or rushes, and frequently with planks. the interior part is divided into two rooms, with a stove placed so as to warm them both, and which serves at the same time as a fire-place for their cookery. on two sides of the largest room, wide benches are fixed, and sometimes a sorry couch made of planks, and covered with bears skin. this is the bed of the chief of the family: and the women, who in this country are the slaves of their husbands, and perform all the most laborious offices, think themselves happy to be allowed to sleep in it. besides these benches and the bed, there is also a table, and a great number of images of different saints, with which the kamtschadales are as emulous of furnishing their chambers, as the majority of our celebrated connoisseurs are of displaying their magnificent paintings. the windows, as may be supposed, are neither large or high. the panes are made of the skins of salmon, or the bladders of various animals, or the gullets of sea wolves prepared, and sometimes of leaves of talc; but this is rare, and implies a sort of opulence. the fish skins are so scraped and dressed that they become transparent, and admit a feeble light to the room[ ]; but objects cannot be seen through them. the leaves of talc are more clear, and approach nearer to glass; in the mean time they are not sufficiently transparent for persons without to see what is going on within: this is manifestly no inconvenience to such low houses. every ostrog is presided by a chief, called _toyon_. this kind of magistrate is chosen from among the natives of the country, by a plurality of voices. the russians have preserved to them this privilege, but the election must be approved by the jurisdiction of the province. this toyon is merely a peasant, like those whom he judges and governs; he has no mark of distinction, and performs the same labours as his subordinates. his office is chiefly to watch over the police, and inspect the execution of the orders of government. under him is another kamtschadale, chosen by the toyon himself, to assist him in the exercise of his functions, or supply his place. this vice-toyon is called _yesaoul_, a cossac title adopted by the kamtschadales since the arrival of the cossacs in their peninsula, and which signifies second chief of their band or clan. it is necessary to add, that when the conduct of these chiefs is considered as corrupt, or excites the complaints of their inferiors, the russian officers presiding over them, or the other tribunals established by government, dismiss them immediately from their functions, and nominate others more agreeable to the kamtschadales, with whom the right of election still remains. the rain continuing, we were unable to proceed on our journey; but my curiosity led me to embrace a short interval that offered in the course of the day, to walk out into the ostrog, and visit its environs. i went first to the church, which i found to be built of wood, and ornamented in the taste of those of the russian villages. i observed the arms of captain clerke, painted by mr. webber, and the english inscription upon the death of this worthy successor of captain cook; it pointed out the place of his burial at saint peter and saint paul's. during the stay of the french frigates in this port, i had been at paratounka, in a hunting excursion, with viscount de langle. as we returned, he spoke of many interesting objects he had observed in the church, and which had entirely escaped my attention. they were, as far as i can remember, various offerings deposited there, he said, by some ancient navigators, who had been shipwrecked. it was my full intention to examine them upon my second visit to this ostrog; but whether it escaped my recollection, or that my research was too precipitate, from the short time that i had to make it, certain it is that i did not discover them. the village is surrounded with a wood; i traversed it by proceeding along the river, and perceived at length a vast plain which extends to the north and the east as far as the mountains of petropavlofska. this chain is terminated at the south and west by another, of which the mountain of paratounka forms a part, and which is about five or six wersts[ ] from the ostrog of that name. upon the banks of the rivers that wind in this plain, there are frequent traces of bears, who are attracted by the fish with which these rivers abound. the inhabitants assured me, that fifteen or eighteen were frequently seen together upon these banks, and that whenever they hunted them, they were sure to bring back one or two, at least, in the space of twenty-four hours. i shall soon have occasion to speak of their chace, and their weapons. we quitted paratounka and resumed our journey; twenty horses sufficed for ourselves and our baggage, which was not considerable, m. kasloff having taken the precaution of sending a great part of it by water, as far as the ostrog of koriaki. the river avatscha has no tide, and is not navigable farther than this ostrog; and not at all indeed, except by small boats, called _batts_. the baidirs only serve to cross the bay of avatscha, and can proceed no farther than the mouth of the river, where their lading is put into these batts, which, from the shallowness and rapidity of the water, are pushed forward with poles. it was in this manner our effects arrived at koriaki. as to ourselves, having crossed the river paratounka at a shallow, and winded along several of its branches, we left it for a way that was woody and less level, but which afforded us better travelling; it was almost entirely in valleys, and we had only two mountains to climb. our horses, notwithstanding their burthens, advanced very briskly. we had no reason to complain of the weather for a single moment; it was so fair, that i began to think the rigour of the climate had been exaggerated; but shortly after, experience too well convinced me of its truth, and in the sequel of my journey, i had every reason to accustom myself to the most piercing frosts, too happy when in the midst of ice and snow, that i had not to contend with the violence of whirlwinds and tempests. we were about six or seven hours in going from paratounka to koriaki, which, as far as i could judge, is from thirty-eight to forty wersts. scarcely arrived, we were obliged to take refuge in the house of the _toyon_, to shelter ourselves from the rain; he ceded his isba to m. kasloff, and we spent the night there. the ostrog of koriaki is situated in the midst of a coppice wood, and upon the border of the river avatscha, which becomes very narrow in this part. five or six isbas, and twice, or at most three times the number of balagans, make up this village, which is similar to that of paratounka, except that it is less, and has no parish church. i observed in general that ostrogs of so little consideration were not provided with a church. the next day we mounted our horses and took the way to natchikin, another ostrog in the bolcheretsk route. we were to stop a few days in the neighbourhood for the sake of the baths, which m. kasloff had constructed at his own expence, for the benefit and pleasure of the inhabitants, upon the hots springs that are found there, and which i shall presently describe. the way from koriaki to natchikin is tolerably commodious, and we crossed without difficulty all the little streams that fall from the mountains, at the foot of which we passed. about three-fourths of the way we met the bolchaïa-reka[ ]; from the site of its greatest breadth, which in this place is about ten or twelve yards, it appears to wind to a considerable extent to the north east; we journeyed on its bank for some time, till we came to a little mountain, which we were obliged to pass over in order to reach the village. a heavy rain which came on as we left koriaki, ceased a few minutes after; but the wind having changed to the north-west, the heavens became obscured, and we had abundance of snow; we were about two-thirds of our way, and it continued till our arrival. i remarked that the snow already covered the mountains, even such as were lowest, upon which it described an equal line at a certain elevation, but that below them no traces of it were yet perceptible. we forded the bolchaïa-reka, and found on the other side the ostrog of natchikin, where i counted six or seven isbas and twenty balagans, similar to what i had seen before. we made no stay there, m. kasloff thinking it proper to hasten immediately to the baths, to which i was inclined as much from curiosity as from necessity. the snow had penetrated through my clothes, and in crossing the river, which was deep, i had made my legs and feet wet. i longed therefore to be able to change my dress, but when we came to the baths our baggage was not arrived. we proposed drying ourselves by walking about the environs, and observing the interesting objects which i expected to find there. i was charmed with every thing i saw, but the dampness of the place, added to that of our clothes, gave us such a chilliness that we quickly put an end to our walk. upon our return we had a new source of regret and impatience. unable either to dry ourselves or change our dress, our equipage not being arrived, to complete our misfortune, the place to which we had retired was the dampest we could have chosen, and though it seemed sufficiently sheltered, the wind penetrated on every side. m. kasloff had recourse to the bath, which quickly restored him; but not daring to follow his example, i was obliged to wait the arrival of our baggage. the damp had penetrated to such a degree that i shivered during the whole night. the next day i made a trial of these baths, and can say that none ever afforded me so much pleasure or so much benefit. but before i proceed, i must describe the source of these hot waters, and the building constructed for bathing. they are two wersts to the north of the ostrog, and about a hundred yards from the bank of the bolchaïa-reka, which it is necessary to cross a second time in order to arrive at the baths, on account of the elbow which the river describes below the village. a thick and continual vapour ascends from these waters, which fall in a rapid cascade from a rather steep declivity, three hundred yards from the place where the baths are erected. in their fall, which is in a direction east and west, they form a small stream of a foot and half deep, and six or seven feet wide. at a little distance from the bolchaïa-reka, this stream is met by another, with which it pours itself into this river. at their conflux, which is about eight or nine hundred yards from the source, the water is so hot that it is not possible to keep the hand in it for half a minute. m. kasloff has been careful to erect his building on the most convenient spot, and where the temperature of the water is most moderate. it is constructed of wood, in the middle of a stream, and is in the proportion of sixteen feet long by eight wide. it is divided into two apartments, each of six or seven feet square, and as many high: the one which is nearest to the side of the spring, and under which the water is consequently warmer, is appropriated for bathing; the other serves for a dressing-room; and for this purpose there are wide benches above the level of the water; in the middle also a certain space is left to wash if we be disposed. there is one circumstance that renders these baths very agreeable, the warmth of the water communicates itself sufficiently to the dressing-room to prevent us from catching cold; and it penetrates the body to such a degree, as to be felt even for the space of an hour or two after we have left the bath. we lodged near these baths in a kind of barns, covered with thatch, and whose timber work consisted of the trunks and branches of trees. we occupied two, which had been built on purpose for us, and in so short a time, that i knew not how to credit the report; but i had soon the conviction of my own eyes. that which was to the south of the stream, having been found too small and too damp, m. kasloff ordered another of six or eight yards extent, to be built on the opposite side, where the soil was less swampy. it was the business of a day; in the evening it was finished, though an additional staircase had been cut out to form a communication between the barn and the bathing house, whose door was to the north. our habitations being insupportable during the night, on account of the cold, m. kasloff resolved to quit them, four days after our arrival. we returned to the village to shelter ourselves with the toyon; but the attraction of the baths led us back every day, oftener twice than once, and we scarcely ever came away without bathing. the various constructions which m. kasloff ordered for the greater convenience of his establishment, detained us two days longer. animated by a love of virtue and humanity, he enjoyed the pleasure of having procured these salutary and pleasant baths for his poor kamtschadales. the uninformed state of their minds, or perhaps their indolence, would, without his succour, have deprived them of this benefit, notwithstanding their extreme confidence in these hot springs for the cure of a variety of diseases[ ]. this made m. kasloff desirous of ascertaining the properties of these waters; we agreed to analyse them, by means of a process which had been given him for this purpose. but before i speak of the result of our experiments, it is necessary to transcribe the process, in order the better to trace the mode we adopted. "water in general may contain, " . fixed air; in that case it has a sharp and sourish taste, like lemonade, without sugar. " . iron or copper; and then it has an astringent and disagreeable taste, like ink. " . sulphur, or sulphurous vapours; and then it has a very nauseous taste, like a stale and rotten egg. " . vitriolic, or marine, or alkaline salt. " . earth," _fixed air._ "to ascertain the fixed air, the taste is partly sufficient; but pour into the water some tincture of turnsol, and the water will become more or less red, in proportion to the quantity of fixed air it contains." _iron._ "the iron may be known by means of the galnut and phlogisticated alkali; the galnut put into feruginous water, will change its colour to purple, or violet, or black; and the phlogisticated alkali will produce immediately prussian blue." _copper._ "copper may be ascertained by means of the phlogisticated alkali or volatile alkali; the first turns the water to a brown red, and the second to a blue. the last mode is the surest, because the volatile alkali precipitates copper only, and not iron." _sulphur._ "sulphur and sulphurous vapours may be known by pouring, . nitrous acid into the water; if a yellowish or whitish sediment be formed by it, there is sulphur, and at the same time a sulphurous odour will be exhaled and evaporate. . by pouring some drops of a solution of corrosive sublimate; if it occasion a white sediment, the water contains only vapours of liver of sulphur; and if the sediment be black, the water contains sulphur only." _vitriolic salt._ "water may contain vitriolic salts; that is salts resulting from the combination of the vitriolic acid with calcareous earth, iron, copper, or with an alkali. the vitriolic acid may be ascertained by pouring some drops of a solution of heavy earth; for then a sandy sediment will be formed, which will settle slowly at the bottom of the vessel." _marine salt._ "water may contain marine salt, which may be ascertained by pouring into it some drops of a solution of silver; a white sediment will immediately be formed of the consistency of curdled milk, which will at last turn to a dark violet colour." _fixed alkali._ "water may contain fixed alkali, which may be ascertained by pouring into it some drops of a solution of corrosive sublimate; when a reddish sediment will be formed." _calcareous earth._ "water may contain calcareous earth and magnesia. some drops of acid of sugar poured into the water, will precipitate the calcareous earth in whitish clouds, which will at length subside and afford a white sediment. a few drops of a solution of corrosive sublimate, will produce a reddish sediment, but very gradually, if the water contain magnesia. "note. to make these experiments with readiness and certainty, the water to be analysed should be reduced one half by boiling it, except in the case of the fixed air, which would evaporate in the boiling." having thoroughly studied the process, we began our experiments. the three first producing no effect, we concluded that the water contained neither fixed air, iron, nor copper; but upon the mixture of the nitrous acid, mentioned for the fourth experiment, we perceived a light substance settle upon the surface, of a whitish colour, and extending but a little way, which led us to believe that the quantity of sulphur, or of sulphurous vapours, must be infinitely small. the fifth experiment proved that the water contained vitriolic salts, or at least vitriolic acid mixed with calcareous earth. we ascertained the existence of this acid, by pouring some drops of a solution of heavy earth into the water, which became white and nebulous, and the sediment that slowly settled at the bottom of the vessel appeared whitish and in very fine grains. we had no solution of silver for the sixth experiment, in order to ascertain whether the water contained marine salt. the seventh proved that it had no fixed alkali. by the eighth experiment, we found that the water contained a great quantity of calcareous earth, but no magnesia. having poured some drops of acid of sugar, we observed the calcareous earth precipitate to the bottom of the vessel in clouds and a powder of a whitish colour; we mixed afterwards some solution of corrosive sublimate to find the magnesia; but the sediment, instead of becoming red, preserved the same colour as before; a proof that the water contained no magnesia. we made use of this water for tea and for our common drink. it was not till after three or four days that we found it contained some saline particles. m. kasloff boiled also some of the water taken at the spring, till it became totally evaporated; the whitish and very salt earth or powder which remained at the bottom of the vessel, as well as the effect it produced on us, proved that this water contained nitrous salts. we remarked also that the stones taken out of this stream were covered with a calcareous substance tolerably thick, and of an undulated appearance, which, when mixed with the vitriolic and nitrous acid, produced symptoms of effervescence. we examined others taken from what appeared to be the fountain head of the waters, and where they have the greater degree of heat; we found them covered with a stratum of a kind of metal, if i may so call a hard and compact envelopement of the colour of refined copper, but the quality of which we could not ascertain; we found also some of this metal, which appeared like the heads of pins; but no acid could dissolve it. upon breaking these stones, we discovered the inside to be very soft and mixed with gravel, with which i had observed these streams to abound. i ought to add here, that we discovered upon the border of the stream, and in a little moving swamp that was near it, a gum, or singular _fucus_[ ], that was glutinous, but did not adhere to the ground. such are the observations which i made upon these hot waters, by assisting m. kasloff in his experiments and enquiries. i dare not flatter myself with having given the result of our operations in a satisfactory manner; forgetfulness, or want of information upon the subject, may have led me into errors; i can only say that i have exerted all my attention and care to be accurate; but acknowledge at the same time, that, if there be defects, they are ascribable to me. during our stay at these baths and at the ostrog of natchikin, our horses had brought, at different times, the effects which we had left at koriaki, and we began to make preparations for our departure. in this interval i had an opportunity of seeing a sable taken alive; the method was very singular, and may give some idea of the manner of hunting these animals. at some distance from the baths, m. kasloff remarked a numerous flight of ravens, who all hovered over the same spot, skimming continually along the ground. the regular direction of their flight led us to suspect that some prey attracted them. these birds were in reality pursuing a sable. we perceived it upon a birch-tree, surrounded by another flight of ravens, and we had immediately a similar desire of taking it. the quickest and surest way would doubtless have been to have shot it; but our guns were at the village, and it was impossible to borrow one of the persons who accompanied us, or indeed in the whole neighbourhood. a kamtschadale happily drew us from our embarassment, by undertaking to catch the sable. he adopted the following method. he asked us for a cord; we had none to give him but that which fastened our horses. while he was making a running knot, some dogs, trained to this chace, had surrounded the tree: the animal, intent upon watching them, either from fear, or natural stupidity, did not stir; and contented himself with stretching out his neck, when the cord was presented to him. his head was twice in the noose, but the knot slipped. at length, the sable having thrown himself upon the ground, the dogs flew to seize him; but he presently freed himself, and with his claws and teeth laid hold of the nose of one of the dogs, who had no reason to be pleased with his reception. as we were desirous of taking the animal alive, we kept back the dogs; the sable quitted immediately his hold, and ran up a tree, where, for the third time, the noose, which had been tied anew, was presented to him; it was not till the fourth attempt that the kamtschadale succeeded[ ]. i could not have imagined that an animal, who has so much the appearance of cunning would have permitted himself to be caught in so stupid a manner, and would himself have placed his head in the snare that was held up to him. this easy mode of catching sables, is a considerable resource to the kamtschadales, who are obliged to pay their tribute in skins of these animals, as i shall explain hereafter[ ]. two phenomena in the heavens were observed at the north-west, during the nights of the and . from the description that was given of them, we judged that they were auroræ boreales, and we lamented that we were not informed time enough to see them. the weather had been tolerably fair during our stay at the baths; but the western part of the sky had been almost constantly charged with very thick clouds. the wind varied from west to north-west, and gave us now and then a shower of snow, which did not yet acquire consistency, notwithstanding the frosts which we experienced every night. our departure was fixed for the october, and the was spent in the hurry and bustle which the last preparations generally occasion. the rest of our route, as far as bolcheretsk, was to be upon the bolchaïa-reka. ten small boats, which properly speaking, appeared to be merely trees scooped out in the shape of canoes, two and two lashed together, served as five floats for the conveyance of ourselves and part of our effects. we were obliged to leave the greater part at natchikin, on account of the impossibility of loading these floats with the whole, and there were no means of increasing them. we had already collected all the canoes that were in the village, and even some of our ten had been brought from the ostrog of apatchin, to which we were going. the , at break of day, we embarked upon these floats. four kamtschadales, by means of long poles, conducted our rafts. but they were frequently obliged to place themselves in the water, in order to haul them along; the depth of the river in some places being no more than one or two feet, and in others less than six inches. presently one of our floats received an injury; it was precisely that which was freighted with our baggage, and we were obliged to unlade every thing upon the bank, in order to refit it. we waited not, but preferred leaving it behind, in order to proceed on our route. at noon another accident, much more deplorable for men whose appetites began to be clamorous, occasioned us a further delay. the float in which our cookery was embarked, sunk all at once before our eyes. it will be supposed we did not see the loss which threatened us, with indifference; we were eager to save the wreck of our provisions; and for fear of a greater misfortune, we wisely resolved to dine before we proceeded any farther. our dinner tended gradually to dispel our fears, and gave us courage to discharge the water which over-loaded our boats, and to resume our voyage. we had not advanced a werst, before we met two boats coming to our assistance from apatchin. we sent them to the succour of the damaged float, and to supply the place of the boats which were unfit for service. as we continued to advance at the head of our embarkations, we at last entirely lost sight of them; but we met with nothing disastrous till the evening. i observed that the bolchaïa-reka, in the windings which it continually made, ran nearly in the direction of east-north-east and west-south-west. its current is very rapid; it appeared to me to flow at the rate of five knots an hour; in the meantime the stones and the shoals which we met with every instant, obstructed our passage to such a degree, as to render the last hour of our conductors truly painful. they avoided them with astonishing address, but as we approached nearer the mouth of the river, i observed with pleasure that it became wider and more navigable. i was equally surprised to see it divide into i know not how many branches, which united again, after having watered a variety of little islands, of which some are covered with wood. the trees are every where very small and very bushy; we met with a considerable number growing here and there in the very river itself, which increase still farther the difficulty of the navigation, and prove the carelessness, i may say the sloth, of these people. it never occurs to them to root out these trees, and thus open a more easy passage. different species of water-fowl, such as ducks, plovers, goëlands, divers, and others, divert themselves in this river, the surface of which is sometimes covered by them; but it is difficult to approach near enough to shoot them. game does not appear to be so common. but for the tracks of the bears, and the half-devoured fish, which continually presented themselves to our view, i should have believed that they had imposed upon me, or at least that they had exaggerated, in telling me of the multitude of these animals with which the country abounds; we could perceive none; but we saw a great number of black eagles, and others that had white wings; magpies, ravens, some partridges, and an ermine walking by the side of the river. upon the approach of night, m. kasloff rightly judged that it would be more prudent to stop, than to continue our route, with the apprehension of encountering obstacles similar to what had already impeded our navigation. how were we to surmount them? we were unacquainted with the river; and in the obscurity of the night, the least accident might prove fatal to us. these considerations determined us to leave our boats, and to pass the night on the right-hand bank of the river, at the entrance of a wood, and near the place where captain king and his party halted[ ]. a good fire warmed and dried our whole company. m. kasloff had taken the precaution to place in his float the accoutrements of a tent; and while we were pitching it, which was done in a moment, we had the satisfaction to see two of our floats arrive, which had not been able to keep up with us. the pleasure which this reunion afforded us, the fatigue of the day, the convenience of the tent, and our beds, which we had fortunately brought with us, all contributed to make us pass a most comfortable night. the next day we fitted ourselves out early and without difficulty. we arrived in four hours at apatchin, but our floats could not come up as far as the village, on account of the shallowness of the water. we landed about four hundred yards from the ostrog, and atchieved this short distance on foot. this village did not appear to me so considerable as the preceding ones, that is, it contained perhaps three or four habitations less. it is situated in a small plain, watered by a branch of the bolchaïa-reka; and on the side opposite to the ostrog is an extent of wood, which i conceived might be an island formed by the different branches of this river. i learned by the way, that the ostrog of apatchin, as well as that of natchikin, had not been always where they are at present. it is within a few years only that the inhabitants, attracted without doubt by the situation, or the hope of better and more commodious fishing, removed their houses to this place. the distance of the new ostrog from the former one is, as i was told, about four or five wersts. apatchin afforded nothing interesting. i left it to join our floats, which had passed the shallows, and were waiting for us three wersts from the ostrog, at the spot where the branch of bolchaïa-reka, after having made a circuit round the village, returns again to its channel. the farther we advanced, the deeper and more rapid we found it; so that nothing impeded our course the whole way to bolcheretsk, where we arrived at seven o'clock in the evening, accompanied by one only of our floats, the rest not having kept pace with us. we were no sooner landed, than the governor conducted me to his house, where he had the civility to give me a lodging, which i occupied during the whole time of my stay at bolcheretsk. he not only procured me all the conveniences and pleasures that were in his power, but furnished me with all the information which might contribute to my advantage, and which his office permitted him to give. his politeness often anticipated my desires and my questions; and he contrived to stimulate my curiosity, by presenting to it every thing which he thought was calculated to interest me. it was with this view he proposed, almost immediately upon our arrival, my going with him to view the galliot from okotsk, that had been unfortunately just shipwrecked at a little distance from bolcheretsk. we had learned something of this melancholy news in our journey. it was said that the bad weather, which the galliot had encountered at its arrival, obliged it to come to anchor at the distance of a league from the coast; but finding that it still drove, the pilot saw no other means of saving the cargo than by running the vessel aground upon the coast; accordingly he cut the cables, and the ship was dashed to pieces. upon the first intelligence of this event, the inhabitants of bolcheretsk flocked together to hasten to the succour of the vessel, and to save at least the provisions with which it was freighted. immediately upon our arrival, m. kasloff had given all the orders which appeared to him to be necessary; but not satisfied with this, he would go himself to see them carried into execution. he invited me to accompany him, which i accepted with cheerfulness, promising myself much pleasure from having an opportunity of viewing the mouth of the bolchaïa-reka, and the harbour which is formed by it. we set off at eleven o'clock in the morning, upon two floats, of which one, that which carried us, was formed of three canoes. our conductors made use of oars and sometimes of their poles, which frequently in difficult and shallow passages, enabled them to resist the impetuosity of the current, by keeping back the float, which would otherwise have been carried along with rapidity and infallibly overturned. the bistraïa, another very rapid river, and larger than the bolchaïa-reka, joins it to the west, about the distance of half a werst from bolcheretsk. it loses its name at the conflux, and takes that of the bolchaïa-reka, which is rendered very considerable by this addition, and empties itself into the sea at the distance of thirty wersts. we landed at seven o'clock in the evening at a little hamlet called _tchekafki_. two isbas, two balagans, and a yourt almost in ruins, were all the habitations i could perceive. there was also a wretched warehouse, made of wood, to which they give the name of magazine, because it belongs to the crown, and first receives the supplies with which the galliots from okotsk[ ] are freighted. the hamlet was built as a guard to this magazine. we passed the night in one of the isbas, resolving to repair early in the morning to the wreck. at break of day we embarked upon our floats. it was low water; we coasted along a dry and very extensive sand bank, at the left of the bolchaïa-reka, as we advanced towards the sea, and which leaves to the north a passage of only eight or ten fathoms wide, and two and a half deep. the wind, which blew fresh from the north-west, suddenly agitated the river, and we dared not risk ourselves in the channel. our boats also were so small, that a single wave half filled them; two men were constantly employed in throwing out the water, and were scarcely able to effect it. we advanced therefore as far as we could along this bank. at length we perceived the mast of the galliot above a neck of low land that extended to the south. it appeared to be about two wersts from us, south of the entrance of the bolchaïa-reka. at the point of land just mentioned, we discovered the light house, and the cot of the persons appointed to guard the wreck: unfortunately we could only see all this at a distance. the direction of the river, from the place where it empties itself into the sea, appeared to me to be north-west, and its opening to be half a werst wide. the light-house is on the left coast, and on the right is the continuation of the low land, which the sea overflows in tempestuous weather, and which extends almost as far as the hamlet of tchekafki. the distance of the hamlet from the mouth of the river is from six to eight wersts. the nearer we approach the entrance, the more rapid is the current. it was not possible to pursue our voyage; the wind became stronger, and the waves increased every moment. it would have been the height of imprudence to quit the sand bank, and cross, in such foul weather and such feeble boats, two wersts of deep water, which is the width of the bay formed by the mouth of the river. the governor, who had already met with some proofs of my little knowledge of navigation, was very anxious however to consult me upon this occasion. my advice was to tack about, and return to the hamlet where we had slept; which was executed immediately. we had great reason to be pleased with our prudence; scarcely were we arrived at tchekafki when the weather became terrible. i consoled myself with the idea, that i had at least obtained my end, which was to see the entrance of the bolchaïa-reka. i can assert with confidence, that the access to it is very dangerous, and impracticable to ships of a hundred and fifty tons burthen. the russian vessels are too frequently shipwrecked, not to open the eyes both of navigators who may be tempted to visit this coast, and of the nations who may think of sending them. the port, besides, affords no shelter. the low lands with which it is surrounded, are no protection against the winds which blow from every quarter. the banks also which the current of the river forms, are very variable, and of course it is almost impossible to know with certainty the channel, which must necessarily, from time to time, change it direction as well as its depth. we passed the rest of the day at tchekafki, being unable to proceed to the shipwrecked vessel, or to return to bolcheretsk. the sky, instead of clearing up, became covered on all sides with still blacker and thicker clouds. soon after our arrival, a dreadful tempest arose, and the bolchaïa-reka became agitated to an extreme violence, even so high up as our hamlet. its billows surprised me, because of the little extent and depth of the river in this place. the point north-east of its mouth, and the low land, which this gale of wind extended, formed but one breaker, over which the waves rolled with a horrible noise. the gale was not likely to abate, but i was on shore, and thought myself able to brave it. i took it into my head therefore, to go a hunting in the environs of the hamlet. i had scarcely advanced a few steps, when the wind seized me, and i felt myself stagger; my courage however did not fail me, and i persevered; but coming to a stream, which it was necessary to cross in a boat, i ran the most imminent risk, and returned immediately, well punished for my petty presumption. these dreadful hurricanes being very common at this season, it is not be wondered at that shipwrecks are so frequent on these coasts: the vessels are so small as to have but one mast; and, what is still worse, the sailors who manage them, if report may be credited, have too little skill to be confided in. the next day we resumed our journey, and arrived at bolcheretsk in the dusk of the evening. as i forsee that my stay here will probably be long, from the necessity of waiting till sledges can be used, i shall proceed with my descriptions, and the recital of what i have seen myself, or learned from my conversations with the russians and kamtschadales. i shall begin with the town, or fort of bolcheretsk, for so it is called, in russia (_ostrog_, or _krepost_). it is situated on the border of the bolchaïa-reka, in a small island formed by different branches of this river, which divide the town into three parts more or less inhabited. the most distant division, and which is farthest to the east, is a kind of suburb called _paranchine_; it contains ten or twelve isbas. south-east of paranchine, is the middle division, where there is also a number isbas, and among others, a row of wooden huts that serve for shops. opposite to these is the guard-house, which is also the chancery, or court of justice[ ]; this house is larger than the rest, and is always guarded by a centinel. a second branch of the bolchaïa-reka again separates, by a very narrow stream, this group of habitations, built without order, and scattered here and there, from another at the north-west, nearer the river. the river in this part flows in the direction of south-east and north-west, and passes within fifty yards of the governor's house. this house is easily distinguished from the rest; it is higher, larger, and is built like the wooden houses of st. petersburg. two hundred yards north-east of this house, is the church; the construction of which is simple, and like that of the village churches in russia. by the side of it is an erection of timber work, twenty feet high, covered only with a roof, under which three bells are suspended. north-west of the governor's house, and separated from it by a meadow or marsh about three hundred yards wide, is another group of dwellings, consisting of twenty-five or thirty isbas, and some balagans. there are in general very few of these latter habitations at bolcheretsk; the whole do not exceed ten; the isbas and wooden houses, without including the eight shops, the chancery, and the governor's house, amount to fifty or sixty. from this minute description of the fort of bolcheretsk, it must appear strange that it retains so inapplicable a name; for i can affirm, that no traces are to be found of fortifications, nor does it appear that there has ever been an intention of erecting any. the state and situation, both of the town and its port, induce me to believe, that government have felt the innumerable dangers and obstacles they would have to surmount, if they were to attempt to render it more flourishing, and make it the general depôt of commerce to the peninsula. their views, as i have already observed, seem rather turned to the port of saint peter and saint paul, which for its proximity, safety, and easy access, merits the preference. there is a degree of civilization at bolcheretsk, which i did not perceive at petropavlofska. this sensible approach to european manners, occasions a striking differrence between the two places. i shall endeavour to point out and account for this as i proceed in my observations upon the inhabitants of these ostrogs; for my principal object should be, to give details of their employments, their customs, their tastes, their diversions, their food, their understandings, their character, their constitutions, and lastly, the principles of government to which they are subjected. the population of bolcheretsk, including men, women and children, amounts to between two and three hundred. among these inhabitants, reckoning the petty officers, there are sixty or seventy cossacs, or soldiers, who are employed in all labours that relate to the service of government[ ]. each in his turn mounts guard; they clear the ways; repair the bridges; unlade the provisions sent from okotsk, and convey them from the mouth of the bolchaïa-reka to bolcheretsk. the rest of the inhabitants are composed of merchants and sailors. these people, russians and cossacs, together with a mixed breed found among them, carry on a clandestine commerce, sometimes in one article, and sometimes in another; it varies as often as they see any reason for changing it; but it is never with a view of enriching themselves by honest means. their industry is a continual knavishness; it is solely employed in cheating the poor kamtschadales, whose credulity and insuperable propensity to drunkenness, leave them entirely at the mercy of these dangerous plunderers. like our mountebanks, and other knaves of this kind, they go from village to village to inveigle the too silly natives: they propose to sell them brandy, which they artfully present to them to taste. it is almost impossible for a kamtschadale, male or female, to refuse this offer. the first essay is followed by many others; presently their heads become affected, they are intoxicated, and the craft of the tempters succeed. no sooner are they arrived to a slate of inebriety, than these pilferers know how to obtain from them the barter of their most valuable effects, that is, their whole stock of furs, frequently the fruit of the labour of a whole season, which was to enable them to pay their tribute to the crown, and procure perhaps subsistance for a whole family. but no consideration can stop a kamtschadale drunkard; every thing is forgotten, every thing is sacrificed to the gratification of his appetite, and the momentary pleasure of swallowing a few glasses of brandy[ ], reduces him to the utmost wretchedness. nor is it possible for the most painful experience to put them on their guard against their own weakness, or the cunning perfidy of these traders, who in their turn drink, in like manner, all the profits of their knavery. i shall terminate the article of commerce by adding, that the persons who deal most in wholesale, are merely agents of the merchants of totma, vologda, grand ustiug, and different towns of siberia, or the factors of other opulent traders, who extend even to this distant country their commercial speculations. all the wares and provisions, which necessity obliges them to purchase from the magazines, are sold excessively dear, and at about ten times the current price at moscow. a _vedro_[ ] of french brandy costs eighty roubles[ ]. the merchants are allowed to traffic in this article; but the brandy, distilled from corn, which is brought from okotsk, and that produced by the country, which is distilled from the _slatkaïa-trava_, or sweet herb, are sold, upon government account, at forty one roubles ninety-six kopecks[ ] the vedro. they can be sold only in the _kabacs_, or public houses, opened for that purpose. at okotsk, the price of brandy distilled from corn is no more than eighteen roubles the vedro; so that the expence of freight is charged at twenty-three roubles ninety-six kopecks, which appears exorbitant, and enables us to form some judgment of the accruing profit. the rest of the merchandize consists of nankins and other china stuffs, together with various commodities of russian and foreign manufacture, as ribands, handkerchiefs, stockings, caps, shoes, boots, and other articles of european dress, which may be regarded as luxuries, compared with the extreme simplicity of apparel of the kamtschadales. among the provision imported, there are sugar, tea, a small quantity of coffee, some wine, but very little, biscuits, confections, or dried fruits, as prunes, raisins, &c. and lastly, candles, both wax and tallow, powder, shot, &c. the scarcity of all these articles in so distant a country, and the need, whether natural or artificial, which there is for them, enable the merchants to sell them at whatever exorbitant price their voracity may affix. in common, they are disposed of almost immediately upon their arrival. the merchants keep shops, each of them occupying one of the huts opposite the guard-house; these shops are open every day, except feast days. the inhabitants of bolcheretsk differ not from the kamtschadales in their mode of living; they are less satisfied, however, with balagans, and their houses are a little cleaner. their clothing is the same. the outer garment, which is called _parque_, is like a waggoner's frock, and is made of the skins of deer, or other animals, tanned on one side. they wear under this long breeches of similar leather, and next the skin a very short and tight shirt, either of nankin or cotton stuff; the women's are of silk, which is a luxury among them. both sexes wear boots; in summer, of goats or dogs skins tanned; and in winter, of the skins of sea wolves, or the legs of rein deer[ ]. the men constantly wear fur caps; in the mild season they put on longer shirts of nankin, or of skin without hair; they are made like the parque, and answer the same purpose, that is, to be worn over their other garments. their gala dress, is a parque trimmed with otter skins and velvet, or other stuffs and furs equally dear. the women are clothed like the russian women, whose mode of dress is too well known to need a description; i shall therefore only observe, that the excessive scarcity of every species of stuff at kamtschatka, renders the toilet of the women an object of very considerable expence: they sometimes adopt the dress of the men. the principal food of these people consists, as i have already observed, in dried fish. the fish are procured by the men, while the women are employed in domestic occupations, or in gathering fruits and other vegetables, which, next to the dried fish, are the favourite provisions of the kamtschadales and russians of this country. when the women go out to make these harvests for winter consumption, it is high holy-day with them, and the anniversary is celebrated by a riotous and intemperate joy, that frequently gives rise to the most extravagant and indecent scenes. they disperse in crowds through the country, singing and giving themselves up to all the absurdities which their imagination suggests; no consideration of fear or modesty restrains them. i cannot better describe their licentious frenzy than by comparing it with the bacchanals of the pagans. ill betide the man whom chance conducts and delivers into their hands! however resolute or however active he may be, it is impossible to evade the fate that awaits him; and it is seldom that he escapes, without receiving a severe flagellation. their provisions are prepared nearly in the following manner; it will appear, from the recital, that they cannot be accused of much delicacy. they are particularly careful to waste no part of the fish. as soon as it is caught they tear out the gills, which they immediately suck with extreme gratification. by another refinement of sensuality or gluttony, they cut off also at the same time some slices of the fish, which they devour with equal avidity, covered as they are with clots of blood. the fish is then gutted, and the entrails reserved for their dogs. the rest is prepared and dried; when they eat it either boiled, roasted, or broiled, but most commonly raw. the food which the epicures esteem most, and which appeared to me to be singularly disgusting, is a species of salmon, called _tchaouitcha_. as soon as it is caught, they bury it in a hole; and in this kind of larder they leave it till it has had time to sour, or, properly speaking, become perfectly putrified. it is only in this state of corruption that it attains the flavour most pleasing to the delicate palates of these people. in my opinion the infectious odour that exhales from this fish, would suffice to repulse the most hungry being; and yet a kamtschadale feeds voluptuously upon this rotten flesh. how fortunate does he consider himself when the head falls to his lot! this is deemed the most delicious morsel, and is commonly distributed into many parts. i frequently wished to overcome my aversion, and taste this so highly valued food; but my resolution was unequal to it; and i was not only unable to taste it, but even to bring it near my mouth; every time i attempted, the fetid exhalation which it emitted gave me a nausea, and disgusted me insuperably. the most common fish in kamtschatka are trouts, and salmon of different species; sea wolves are also eaten; the fat of this fish is very wholesome, and serves them beside for lamp oil. among the vegetables which are made use of by the kamtschadales, the principal are _sarana_ root, wild garlic, _slatkaïa-trava_, or sweet herb, and other plants and fruits nearly similar to what are found in russia. the _sarana_ is known to botanists[ ]. its shape, its size, and its colour have been described at large in the third voyage of captain cook. its farinaceous root serves instead of bread[ ]. it is dried before it is used; but it is wholesome and nourishing in whatever mode it may be prepared. from the wild garlic[ ] they make a harsh and fermented beverage, which has a very unpleasant taste; it is also used in various sauces; the kamtschadales are very fond of it. the slatkaïa-trava, or sweet herb, is pleasant enough when it is fresh. this plant[ ] has also been minutely described by the english. it is highly esteemed by the natives, particularly the spirit distilled from it. soon after it is gathered, they slit it in two, and scrape out the pith with a muscle-shell: they then dry it for winter, and when they use it in their ragouts, it is previously boiled. brandy is also distilled from this sweet herb, which, as i observed before, is sold on account of government: for this purpose the plant is purchased of the kamtschadales[ ]. there are three sorts of inhabitants, the natives or kamtschadales, the russians and cossacs, and the descendants from intermarriages. the indigenes, that is, those whose blood is unmixed, are few in number; the small pox has carried off three fourths of them, and the few that are left are dispersed through the different ostrogs of the peninsula; in bolcheretsk it would be difficult to find more than one or two. the true kamtschadales are in general below the common height; their shape is round and squat, their eyes small and sunk, their cheeks prominent, their nose flat, their hair black, they have scarcely any beard, and their complexion is a little tawny. the complexion and features of the women are very nearly the same; from this representation, it will be supposed they are not very seducing objects. the character of the kamtschadales is mild and hospitable; they are neither knaves, nor robbers; they have indeed so little penetration, that nothing is more easy than to deceive them, as we have seen in the advantage that is taken of their propensity to intoxication. they live together in the utmost harmony, and the more so, it would seem, on account of the smallness of their number. this unanimity disposes them to assist one another in their labours, which is no small proof of their zeal to oblige, if we consider the natural and extreme slothfulness of their disposition. an active life would be insupportable to them; and the greatest happiness, in their estimation, next to that of getting drunk, is to have nothing to do, and to live for ever in tranquil indolence. this is carried so far with these people, as frequently to make them neglect the means of providing the indispensable necessaries of life; and whole families are often reduced to all the severities of famine, because they would not take the pains of providing in summer a reserve of fish, without which they are unable to live. if they neglect in this manner the preservation of their existence, it is not to be supposed that they are more attentive to the article of cleanliness; it displays itself neither in their persons, nor their habitations; and they may justly be reproached for being addicted to the contrary extreme. notwithstanding this carelessness, and other natural defects, it must be regretted that their number is not more considerable; as, from what i have seen, and what has been confirmed to me by different persons, if we would be sure of finding sentiments of honour and humanity in this country, it is necessary to seek for them among the true kamtschadales; they have not yet bartered their rude virtues for the polished vices of the europeans sent to civilize them. it was at bolcheretsk that i began to perceive the effects of their influence. i saw the trace of european manners, less in the mixture of blood, in the conformation of features, and the idiom of the inhabitants, than in their inclinations and mode of life, which did not always discover any very considerable fund of virtue. this striking difference between the inhabitants and the indigenes, springs, in my opinion, from the difficulties which lie in the road to civilization, and i will assign my reasons. bolcheretsk, not long ago, was the chief place of kamtschatka, particularly as the governors had thought proper to establish their residence there. the chiefs and their suites introduced european knowledge and manners: these, it is known, generally become adulterated in transmission, according to the distance from the source. meanwhile it is to be presumed that the russian government was careful, as far as it was possible, to confide its authority and the execution of its orders, only to officers of acknowledged merit, if i may judge from those who are at present employed; and it is therefore to be supposed that these officers, in the places of their residence, were so many examples of the virtues, the acquirements, and all the estimable qualities of civilized nations. but unfortunately the lessons which they gave, were not always so efficacious as might have been expected; either because being only sketches, they were not sufficiently felt, or rather, not being imbibed in all their purity, they made but momentary or perhaps vicious impressions on the mind. these reformers found not the same zeal either in the cossacs who composed the garrison, or in the merchants and other russian emigrants who settled in the peninsula. the disposition to licenciousness, and the desire of gain, which the first conquerors of a country almost always bring with them, and the continual development of these qualities, by the facility with which the natives may be duped, contributed to check the progress of reform. the fatal infection was still more diffusely spread by intermarriages, while the seed of the social virtues, which had been attempted to be sown, scarcely found a reception. the consequence has been, that the natives, or true kamtschadales, have preserved almost universally their ignorant simplicity and uncultivated manners; and that a part of the rest of the inhabitants, russians and mixed breed, who have settled themselves in the ostrogs where the governors reside, still retain indeed a faint shade of european manners, but not of such as are most pure. we have already had a proof of this in what has been said of their commercial principles, and my conviction has been rendered stronger during my abode at bolcheretsk, by a closer study of the inhabitants, who, this faint shade excepted, differ little from the indigenes. m. kasloff, and those who accompanied him, in imitation of his example, frequently give entertainments or balls to the ladies of this ostrog, who accept such invitations with equal alacrity and joy. i had an opportunity of seeing that what i had been told was true; that these women, the kamtschadales as well as the russians, have a strong propensity to pleasure; their eagerness indeed is so great, that they are unable to conceal it. the precosity of the girls is astonishing, and seems not at all to be affected by the coldness of the climate. with respect to the women of bolcheretsk, who were present at these assemblies, and who were chiefly either of mixed blood or of russian parents, their figures in general did not appear disagreeable, and i perceived some who might be considered as handsome: but the freshness of youth is not of long duration; from child-bearing, or the painful labours to which they are subjected, it fades away almost in the flower of their age. their disposition is extremely cheerful; a little, perhaps, at the expence of decency. they endeavour to amuse the company by every thing which their gaiety and playfulness can furnish. they are fond of singing, and their voice is pleasant and agreeable; it is only to be wished that their music had less resemblance to their soil, and approached nearer to our own. they speak both the russian and kamtschadale languages, but they all preserve the accent of the latter idiom. i little expected to see in this part of the world polish dances, and still less country dances in the english taste; but what was my surprise to find that they had even an idea of a minuet! whether my abode for twenty six months upon the sea, had rendered me less fastidious, or that the recollections they revived fascinated my eyes, these dances appeared to be executed with tolerable precision, and more grace than i could have imagined. the dancers of whom we speak, have so much vanity as to hold in contempt the songs and dances of the natives. the toilet of the women on these occasions is an object of no trivial attention. they deck themselves out in all their allurements, and whatever is most costly. these ceremonious and ball dresses are principally of silks; and in the article of commerce we have already seen that they must be expensive. i shall finish this account with a remark that i had occasion to make, both in these assemblies and in those of the kamtschadales; it is, that the majority of husbands, russians as well as natives, are not susceptible of jealousy; they voluntarily shut their eyes upon the conduct of their wives, and are as docile as possible upon this chapter. the entertainments and assemblies of the native kamtschadales, at which i was also present, offered a spectacle equally entitled to notice for its singularity. i know not which struck me most, the song or the dance. the dance appeared to me to be that of savages. it consisted in making regular movements, or rather unpleasant and difficult distortions, and in uttering at the same time a forced and gutteral sound, like a continued hiccough, to mark the time of the air sung by the assembly, the words of which are frequently void of sense, even in kamtschadale. i noted down one of these airs, which i shall insert in this place, in order to give an idea of their music and metre. [illustration: (music) daria, daria, da, daria, ha, nou dalatché, damatché, kannha, koukka. _da capo._ ] the words mean, daria[ ], daria sings and dances still. this air is repeated without ceasing. in their dances they are fond of imitating the different animals they pursue, such as the partridge and others, but principally the bear. they represent its sluggish and stupid gait, its different feelings and situations; as the young ones about their dam; the amourous sports of the male with the female; and lastly, its agitation when pursued. they must have a perfect knowledge of this animal, and have made it their particular study, for they represent all its motions as exactly, i believe, as it is possible. i asked the russians, who were greater connoisseurs than myself, having been oftener present at the taking of these animals, whether their pantomime ballets were well executed; and they assured me that the dancers were the best in the country, and that the cries, gait, and various attitudes of the bear, were as accurate as life. meanwhile, without offence to the amateurs, these dances are, in my opinion, not less fatiguing to the spectators than to the performers. it is a real pain to see them distort their hips, dislocate every limb, and wear out their lungs, to express the excess of pleasure which they take in these strange balls, which, i repeat it, resemble the absurd diversions of savages: the kamtschadales may indeed, in many respects, be considered as of that rank. having given an account of the address with which these people counterfeit the postures and motions of the bear, who may be called their dancing master, it may not be unpleasing to relate in what manner they hunt this animal. there are various modes of attacking it; sometimes they lay snares for it: under a heavy trap, supported in the air by a scaffolding sufficiently high, they place some kind of bait to attract the bear, and which he no sooner smells and perceives, than he eagerly advances to devour; at the same time he shakes the feeble support of the trap, which falls upon his neck, and punishes his voraciousness by crushing his head, and frequently his whole body. in passing the woods i have seen them caught in this way; the trap is kept baited till it succeeds, which sometimes does not happen for almost a year. this method of taking them requires no great boldness, or fatigue; but there is another mode, very much adopted in this country, to which equal strength and courage are necessary. a kamtschadale goes out, either alone or in company, to find a bear. he has no other arms than his gun, a kind of carabine whose but-end is very small; a lance or spear; and his knife. his stock of provision is made up in a bundle containing about twenty fish. thus lightly equipped, he penetrates into the thickest part of the woods, and every place that is likely to be the haunt of this animal. it is commonly in the briars, or among the rushes on the borders of lakes and rivers, that the kamtschadale posts himself, and waits the approach of his adversary with patience and intrepidity; if it be necessary, he will remain thus in ambuscade for a whole week together, till the bear makes his appearance. the moment it comes within his reach, he fixes in the ground a forked stick[ ] belonging to his gun, by means of which he takes a truer aim, and shoots with more certainty. it is seldom that, with the smallest ball, he does not strike the bear either in the head, or near the shoulder, which is the tenderest part. but he is obliged to charge again instantly, because the bear, if the first shot has not disabled him, runs[ ] at the hunter, who has not always time for a second shot. he has then recourse to his lance, with which he quickly arms himself to contend with the beast, who attacks him in his turn. his life is in danger[ ] if he does not give the bear a mortal thrust; and in such combats, it may be supposed the man is not always the conqueror; but this does not prevent the inhabitants of this country from daily exposing their lives; the frequent examples of the death of their countrymen has no effect upon them: indeed they never go out, without considering before hand that it is either to conquer or to die; and this severe alternative neither stops nor terrifies them[ ]. they hunt other animals nearly in the same manner, such as rein deer, argali, or wild sheep, called in russia _diki-barani_, foxes, otters, beavers, sables, hares[ ], &c. but they have not the same dangers to encounter; sometimes they make use of snares, constructed of wood or iron, less than those which are set for bears, and resembling in their simplicity our pitfalls; no other attention is necessary than that of visiting them from time to time. the kamtschadales sometimes lie in ambush, armed in the manner i have described; and the only hardship they experience results from their provision being exhausted in consequence of the long duration of their chace. they frequently submit to suffer hunger for many days together, rather than quit their stations till they have obtained the end of their pursuit; but they amply repay themselves for this fasting, by immediately devouring the flesh of the animals[ ], and by the pleasure with which they count over the skins they obtain from them. they chuse for their chace the seasons when the fur of the animal is in its greatest perfection. sables are hunted in the beginning of winter. these animals live commonly in trees, and are called after their name; a part of the fur nearest the skin being of the same colour as those which they most frequent, as the birch, the fir, &c. the most favourable seasons for hunting foxes are autumn, winter, and spring. there are four different species. . the whitish red fox, which is least esteemed. . the red or bright red fox. . the fox called _sévadouschka_, the colour of which is a mixture of red, black, and grey. . the black fox, which is the scarcest and most valuable: it is really of a deep and entire black, except that at the extremity of the fur upon the back, which is the longest; a grey tint is sometimes perceptible. some of this species are singularly valuable. there are two other species of the fox that may be added to these, though they are not regarded as such in this country, the blue fox and the white fox. they are called in russia _galouboy pessets_, and _beloy pessets_; their fur is thicker than that of the rest of the species. the foxes of the continent are in general more beautiful than those caught in the different islands of the east[ ], and produce an infinitely higher price. rein deer are hunted in winter, and argali in autumn. otters are extremely scarce in this country; but there is a great abundance of ermines, though, i know not for what reason, no pains are taken to catch them; one would suppose they were of no value. the kamtschadales have different seasons also for fishing. their salmon and trout season is in june, their herring season in may, and that of the sea wolf in spring and summer, but principally in autumn. they seldom use seines, but almost always common nets[ ], or a kind of harpoon, which they manage with great dexterity. seines serve only for sea wolves; they are made of leather straps, and the meshes are very large. they have another mode of fishing, by closing up the river with stakes and branches of trees, so as to leave only a narrow passage for the fish, or sometimes several, where they place baskets, so constructed that, if the fish once enter, it is impossible for them to retreat. horses are very scarce in kamtschatka. i saw some at bolcheretsk belonging to government, and intrusted to the care of the cossacs. they merely serve during summer for the carriage of merchandize and other effects of the crown, and for the convenience of travellers. dogs however abound in this country, and are so serviceable to the kamtschadales, as to render the privation of the other domestic animals less felt by them. they serve all the purposes of carriage, and are fed without difficulty or expence, their food consisting entirely of the offals, or such decayed fish as are rejected by their masters; and even these are not allowed, unless when it is necessary. in summer, which is their season of rest, little care is taken of them; the dogs well know how to provide for themselves, by ranging over the country and along the sides of lakes and rivers; and the punctuality with which they return, is one of the most striking proofs of the fidelity of these animals. when winter arrives, they dearly pay for the liberty and temporary repose they have enjoyed. their labour and slavery begin anew, and these dogs must have extreme vigour to be able to support them. meanwhile they are not remarkably large, and resemble pretty exactly our mountain dogs, or such as are commonly used by shepherds. there is not an individual inhabitant, russian or native, that has less than five. they make use of them when they travel, when they go to the forests to cut wood, and for the conveyance of their effects and provisions, as well as their persons. in short, these dogs conduct travellers from place to place, and horses could not in reality be more serviceable. they are harnessed to a sledge two and two together[ ], with a single one before as a leader. this honour is bestowed on the most intelligent, or the best trained dog, and he understands wonderfully the terms used by the conductor to direct his course. the cry of _tagtag, tagtag_, turns him to the right, and _kougha, kougha_, to the left; the intelligent animal understands it immediately, and gives to the rest the example of obedience: _ah, ah_, stops them, and _ha_ makes them set off. the number of dogs that it is necessary to harness, depends upon the load; when it is little more than the weight of the person who mounts the sledge, it is considered as a common sledge, or _saunka_[ ], and the team consists of four or five dogs. the harness[ ] is made of leather. it passes under the neck, that is, upon the breast of these steeds, and is joined to the sledge by a strap three feet long, in the manner of a trace: the dogs are also fastened together by couples passed through their collars; these collars are frequently covered with bear's skin, by way of ornament. the form of the sledge is like that of an oblong basket, the two extremities of which are elevated in a curve. its length is about three feet, and its breadth scarcely exceeds a foot. this kind of basket, which composes the body of the sledge, is of very thin wood; the sides are of open work, and ornamented with straps of different colours. the seat of the charioteer is covered with bear's skin, and elevated three feet from the ground, upon four legs, which diverge towards the lower extremity, and are fastened to two parallel planks, three or four inches broad. these planks are not thick, but so long as to extend beyond the body of the sledge, to which they serve as supports and and as skates. for this purpose they are furnished underneath, in time of thaw, with three or four long pieces of whale-bone, all of them of the same breadth, and fastened to the skates with leathern thongs. in front these planks bend upward, and so meet the poles of the sledge, which gradually lower for that purpose, and are adapted to receive a part of the baggage. the front of the sledge is farther adorned with floating reins or shreds of leather, which are of no use. the charioteer has nothing in his hand but a curved stick, which serves him both for rudder and whip. iron rings are suspended at one end of the stick, as much for ornament, as to encourage the dogs by the noise which these kind of bells make, and which are frequently jingled for that purpose; the other end is sometimes pointed with iron, to make an easier impression on the ice, and serves at the same time to guide the ardour of these animals. dogs, that are well trained, have no need to hear the voice of the conductor; if he strike the ice with his stick, they will go to the left; if he strike the legs of the sledge, they will go to the right; and when he wishes them to stop, he has only to place the stick between the snow and the front of the sledge. when they slacken their pace, and become careless and inattentive to the signals, or to his voice, he throws his stick at them[ ]; but then the utmost address is necessary to regain it, as he proceeds rapidly along; and this is one of the strongest tests of the skill of the conductor. the kamtschadales are singularly expert in this exercise. i was in general astonished at the dexterity they displayed in driving their sledges, and as i was soon to have the happiness of travelling in this vehicle, i conceived that i ought to practice, not so much to reconcile myself to it, as to learn to be my own guide. it was in vain they represented to me the risks i should run, by exposing myself alone in a sledge, before i had acquired sufficient skill to know how to conduct it; at my age we are all confident, and i listened not to their cautions. the lightness of my carriage, which scarcely exceeded ten pounds, its elevation, which rendered it more liable to be overturned, the difficulty of preserving the equilibrium, and, in short, the consequences that might attend a fall, if i lost my hold of the sledge[ ]; all these considerations, which were exposed to my view, could neither intimidate nor dissuade me from so dangerous an apprenticeship. i mounted one day my new car, consenting however to be followed, and a multitude of sledges attended me. it was not long before the company saw their predictions realized; i had advanced a very little way, when i exhibited a complete fall. scarcely remounted, i repeated the scene, and occasioned a new burst of laughter: in spite of this, i did not lose my courage, but quickly recovered myself to be overturned again as quickly. i had sufficient reason to be inured to these accidents, for in every attempt i paid the tribute of inexperience. seven times did i fall in taking my first lesson, but without receiving any injury; and i only returned with more eagerness to take a second, then a third, then a fourth; in short, a day scarcely passed, without my making some progress. the number of my falls diminished, in proportion as i acquired more knowledge and skill, and my success rendered me such an amateur of this exercise, that in a short time i acquired a degree of reputation; it cost me, however, considerable pains to habituate myself to the observance of the necessary equilibrium. the body is, as it were, in continual motion. here we must lean to the right, because the sledge inclines to the left; there we must suddenly change to the left, because it leans to the right: the next minute, perhaps our posture must be erect; and if we fail in quickness or attention, it is seldom that an immediate overthrow is not the consequence. in falling, it is still necessary not to quit the vehicle, but to hold it as firm as possible, in order to create a sufficient weight to impede the dogs, who, as i have already said, will otherwise advance full speed. the common mode of sitting in a sledge is side ways, as a lady rides on horseback; we may also sit astride; but the point of main difficulty, the _ne plus ultra_ of address and of grace, is to be able to stand upon one leg: it is excellent to see an adept in this striking attitude. for myself, i was no sooner able to drive, than i abandoned every other mode of conveyance. always accompanied, because of the roads, i sometimes took a ride, and sometimes went a hunting. the tracks of hares and partridges were perceptible on the snow[ ], and to such a degree, that it appeared full of holes like a sieve. the snow was frequently so deep in the woods, that it was impossible to proceed a step without sinking in; our resource in that case was to quit our sledges, which were no longer serviceable to us, and turn them upon their side. having taking this precaution, which was sufficient to retain our dogs, who immediately laid themselves down in a circular form upon the snow, and patiently waited the return of their guides; we fastened to the soles of our feet, with leathern thongs, rackets, made of thin board[ ], six or eight inches wide and four feet long, the front of which turned up like skates, and the bottom was covered with the skin of the sea wolf or rein deer. furnished with these kind of shoes, we continued our chace; i had at first some difficulty to accustom myself to them, and i fell more than once both upon my back and my face; but the pleasure of a good chase made me soon forget these accidents. though it was difficult to perceive the hares and partridges, whose whiteness equalled that of the snow, i did not fail, after a little practice, and some instructions from my companions, to bring home a tolerable number. this was one of my most agreeable diversions while at bolcheretsk; the rest of my hours were occupied in expressing my impatience and uneasiness, on account of the length of time i was obliged to stay there. to give a different turn to my thoughts, i embraced the few fine days that we experienced, to visit some of the environs, which i had a second opportunity of viewing upon my departure, and which i shall mention when i proceed on my travels. the construction of my travelling sledges[ ] engaged also my attention; but my chief consolation was the company of m. kasloff and the officers of his suite. their conventions, and the enquiries which i made, enabled me almost every day to take notes, a part of which i have already transcribed, and shall now proceed with the rest. the diseases that prevail in kamtschatka is the first article that presents itself. disagreeable as may be the details they require, i conceive that i ought not to suppress them; they form a part of my observations, and should have a place in my journals. the small pox, whose ravages i have already mentioned, appears not to be natural to the country, nor is it very common. since the invasion of the russians, and the frequent emigrations that succeeded it, this epidemical disease has only made its appearance in and . it was then brought into the country by a russian vessel bound to the eastern islands, for the purpose of hunting otters, foxes, and other animals. the person, who had in his blood the fatal germ, was a sailor from okotsk, where he had taken remedies for the disorder, previous to his departure; but the recent marks of it were visible. scarcely landed, he communicated this cruel malady to the poor kamtschadales, which carried off three fourths of them. as it has not appeared since, it is supposed that these people are not subject to it. in the year it broke out in the northern part of kamtschatka but it did not spread so far as the peninsula. it began at anadirskoi; it is not known how it was brought there, though the russians are also accused in this instance. there is reason to suspect that the kamtschadales are indebted to them in like manner for their knowledge of the venereal disease, which happily is not common. this pestilence appears to be exotic, and its cure is as difficult as it is rare. they have recourse to various roots and to corrosive sublimate, which is attended in this country with its usual ruinous effects, and the more so, as being indiscreetly administered. the kamtschadales have no deformed births. such as are deformed among them, have become so in consequence of a considerable fall, though this is not a very common occurrence, as they are accustomed to fall from their balagans. they are but little subject to the scurvy; their use of wild garlic, and various fruits and berries, is a preservative. the russians and other settlers are more frequently afflicted with this disease. consumptions are frequent enough; but boils, tumors, abscesses, and wens, are very common. they have no mode of curing them, but by incision or extirpation; and they use for these operations a knife, or perhaps simply a sharp stone, which supplies the place of a lancet. such instruments are calculated to impress us with no very high opinion of the skill of the operators; and it is obvious that the art of surgery, brought to such perfection with us, is in a state of the utmost barbarism at kamtschatka. physic does not appear to have made a greater progress; though it must be confessed that these people have gained something by learning to distrust their impostors and absurd empiricks. formerly, self-created magicians, called _chamans_, taking advantage of the credulity of the kamtschadales, turned doctors of physic, and thus secured to themselves a double claim to their veneration and confidence[ ]. their strange dress contributed to the imposition, and suited perfectly their extravagant mummeries. what was told me upon the subject would exceed the utmost stretch of faith, if we had never heard of the bohemians and other sorcerers of this kind. it is not possible to form an idea of the buffooneries of these suppositious physicians, and the impertinencies they relate, to make their prescriptions or pretended revelations go down. it is probable that their cures were frequently attended with fatal consequences, and that the number of victims equalled that of their patients. tired at last of being duped at the expence of their lives, the kamtschadales began to be dissatisfied with these impostors, who gradually lost their credit, and sunk into contempt and oblivion. such has been the fate also of the chamans. the feeble light which the russian commerce diffused through the country, proved sufficient to open the eyes of the inhabitants. they perceived at once the absurdity of the magic art of their doctors. as it ceased to be respected, it was no longer lucrative, and the number of magicians diminished of course. disgusted with the trade, the men abandoned it; and it has since been taken up by some old women, who, possessing less skill, have doubtless fewer customers[ ]. the women of this country have seldom more than ten children, the common estimate is four or five, they bear none after the age of forty. they assist one another in their deliveries, which are effected with great facility: meanwhile there are midwives in kamtschatka, but their number is very small. the accidents which prove fatal to so many mothers, are much less frequent to these women, than instances of child-birth in the open air, in roads, or wherever their occupations call them. on these occasions they make use of their hair, i am told, to tie the umbilical cord, carry home their children themselves, and immediately give them suck. they have no limited time for suckling their children, and i have seen instances of its continuing for four or five years. we may judge from this circumstance of the strong constitution of these women. it is observed, however, that kamtschadales of either sex, do not live longer than russians. i forgot to mention a remedy to which the inhabitants of this peninsula have voluntary recourse in almost every disease: it is to a root called _bears root_, which they steep in brandy. the name sufficiently indicates to whom they are indebted for its knowledge. perceiving that the bear was fond of eating this herb, and of rolling himself upon it when wounded, they imagined it to possess some healing quality, and this induced them to make use of it. this animal thus gave them their first lesson in botany and pharmacy. it is said however, that the bear cures all his wounds with this root. if this be true, it is natural to suppose that human beings would find it very serviceable: but as i have never had occasion to make the experiment, i can only speak from report. the christian religion was introduced into this country by the russians; but the inhabitants appear to know little more of it than the ceremony of baptism. they are ignorant of the very first principles of christianity. slaves to their inclinations, they follow their impulse whether good or bad. if they think of religion, it is merely from a motive of convenience or interest, or when particular circumstances compel them to it. this proves how very defective their instruction is, and reflects in my opinion upon the clergy, whose business it is to enlighten their ignorance. but are these clerical missionaries sufficiently informed themselves? they have no opportunity it must be acknowledged for profound study, and probably it is not required of them, as it is common enough to see a kamtschadale admitted to this dignified office. these popes are all under the authority of a protapope, or high priest, resident at nijenei, and he again is subordinate to the archbishop of irkoutsk, who alone ordains and appoints the clergy to their cures, so that they are all obliged to resort to this settlement. the length and perils of the journey are considered perhaps as a kind of initiation; and without any other merit or examination, they probably receive holy orders: it is certain they return neither wiser nor better. these divines are then sent to their places of destination; the time they continue is not limited, and depends on the will of their chiefs. there are eight principal churches in kamtschatka: paratounka, bolcheretsk, jchinsk, tiguil, vercknei, klutchefskaïa, and two at nijenei; to these may be added the church of ingiga, in the country of the koriacs. the district or parish of paratounka includes seven ostrogs and the kurilles islands; viz. the ostrog of the same name, saint peter and saint paul, koriaki, natchikin, apatchin, malkin, and bolcheretsk. the number of parishioners contained in these ostrogs, does not exceed four hundred; and including the kurilles islands, the general calculation is not more than six hundred and twenty christians. the rector of paratounka is allowed by the empress a salary of eighty roubles, and twenty _pouds_[ ] of rye flour. his parishioners of consequence, pay no tythes; but he receives alms and other casual emoluments attached to his church. for a marriage, a christening, or a burial, these priests demand whatever they please. there is no regulation in this respect, and every thing is governed solely by their caprice, which occasions considerable impositions and abuses. in general however, they endeavour to proportion their demands to the abilities of their parishioners, a discretion that is entitled to applause. the kamtschadales are free. they are subject only to an annual tribute to russia, which consists, as i have already said, in various kinds of furs; so that the produce of their chace, turns almost entirely to the advantage of the empress. every chief of a family is obliged to furnish for himself and for each of his children, even such as are in their minority, a certain quantity of skins equivalent to his share of taxation: this may amount to seven roubles more or less, and the skins, i am told, are generally valued at the lowest possible price. this mode of paying tribute must produce a considerable revenue to the crown, if we merely judge from the number of sables the province annually supplies, which is something more than four thousand. the toyon of each ostrog collects the taxes, and remits them to the treasurer of the crown; a receipt is previously given to every individual of the amount of his tribute, and each kamtschadale takes care to mark with his seal, or some other sign, all the furs that he delivers. the current coins are the golden imperial of ten roubles; the rouble, and half rouble. there are very few silver coins below this value; a proof that no article of merchandize is expected to produce less than half a rouble. copper and paper money have not yet reached this peninsula. a variety of old silver coins of the times of peter i. catherine i. and elizabeth, abound here. a considerable branch of commerce may be made of them; the silver is purer and more valuable than that of common coins. the pay of the soldiers or cossacs is fifteen roubles a year. the officers sent by government to so distant a country, receive double salaries. the peninsula of kamtschatka, when major behm presided at bolcheretsk, was under the jurisdiction of the government general of irkoutsk. upon the departure of this governor, whom the english saw upon their first arrival in , captain schmaleff was deputed in his room, and enjoyed for a year the power and satisfaction of doing good to the inhabitants, who entertain for him an equal respect and gratitude. m. renikin supplied his place in , and was recalled in for reasons which i am obliged to suppress. at this period the kamtschatka department was reunited to that of okotsk. the chiefs and officers of the different ostrogs have since been subject to the orders of the governor at okotsk, and to the decisions of its courts of justice; these are themselves subordinate and accountable to the governor general residing at irkoutsk. the present commanding officer, or governor, at bolcheretsk, which was formerly the capital of kamtschatka, is now merely a sergeant; the name of the person i left there was _rastargouieff_, and he had been nominated to the office by m. kasloff. the governors in these various ostrogs are not accountable to one another for their administration, not even inferior officers to their superiors; the authority of each is limited to the inhabitants of his own district; which has doubtless induced the empress to appoint an inspector general, _capitan ispravnick_, whose business is to visit every year all the kamtschadale villages, receive their complaints, examine their differences, judge them, and punish such as are guilty; in short to maintain order and peace among them. it is also a duty of his function to encourage commerce, particularly their fishing and hunting, to inspect the regular payment of their tribute, the stock of provisions of each individual for his own support, and that of his family, the repairs of the bridges and roads, which unfortunately are very few, and kept in very bad order. in a word, the inspector general should consider it as incumbent upon him to introduce among these people the manners and customs of russia. this important office was confided, in , to baron de steinheil, who fixed his residence at nijenei. affairs calling him elsewhere, he was succeeded by m. schmaleff, who, in accompanying us, was making the tour of his office. the government is not purely military; there are some tribunals established for hearing and deciding causes and other matters juridically. such are the tribunals of tiguil, ingiga, and nijenei-kamtschatka; they are subject to the jurisdiction of the court of okotsk, in the same manner as in russia the magistrates of the subordinate towns hold from those of the capital, in whom the final decision rests. there is beside at bolcheretsk a kind of consular jurisdiction, or vocal tribunal, called in russia _slovesnoisoud_. the judges are merchants; they take cognizance of all disputes relating to commerce, and their decisions are either confirmed or annulled by the court to which they are carried by appeal. the russian code of laws is the only one that is attended to; it is too well known to require that i should enter into particulars; and i could only repeat what has been already related by various historians and travellers better informed upon the subject than myself. i ought however to add, that the property of the kamtschadales devolves, of course, upon their decease, to the next heir, or to whomsoever it is bequeathed. the will of the testator is equally respected, and as literally adhered to, as it could be with those nations of europe who are most scrupulous on the subject of successions. divorces are neither practised or allowed among the kamtschadales. the russians seem to court their alliance, though it procures them no particular privilege. their motive is obvious. by frequent marriages, it is possible that before the end of the present generation, the race of the indigenes may be totally extinct. the penalty of death, abolished in all the dominions of the empress, is never inflicted in kamtschatka. in their earliest migrations, the russians, when accused of harassing the natives, were condemned to the knowt; the kamtschadales also, for various offences, were liable to this cruel punishment; but it is no longer practiced. when the natives are guilty either of petty or capital offences, the punishment is whipping. it may be questioned whether they have gained by the change. the present mode of punishing them being more simple and expeditious, it is resorted to with less scruple, and is liable to frequent abuse. the kamtschadale idiom appeared to me to be uncouth, guttural, and difficult to be pronounced; the words are broken, and the sounds disagreeable. there are as many different dialects and accents as there are ostrogs. for instance, upon leaving saint peter and saint paul, we are astonished to hear a different jargon at paratounka: this is the case with villages the nearest to one another. notwithstanding these variations of idiom, i considered it as incumbent upon me to procure a vocabulary, which will be found at the end of my journal. i shall add to it the koriac, the tchouktchi, and the lamout languages. my attention to the subject was unremitted, and i received very considerable assistance. i shall finish the article of my abode at bolcheretsk, with some observations that will tend to prove the impossibility of my leaving it sooner. towards the end of november the cold became on a sudden so severe, that in a few days the rivers were all frozen, even the bolchaïa-reka, which seldom happens, because of the extreme rapidity of its current. the next day it got rid of the ice that covered it, and from that time i saw no more stop before bolcheretsk, lower than the house of the governor. though frozen in various places, it presents a great number chasms, where the water is seen to flow as usual. on each shore of the peninsula, there is a sensible difference in the atmosphere. during the fine weather, a drought prevailed at saint peter and saint paul's, whereas at bolcheretsk they complained of frequent showers; meanwhile autumn had not proved this year more rainy than common. very heavy rains are injurious in this country, because they occasion floods, which drive the fish from the rivers; a famine most distressing to the poor kamtschadales is the result, as it happened last year in all the villages along the western coast of the peninsula. this dreadful calamity occurs so frequently in this quarter, that the inhabitants are obliged to abandon their dwellings, and repair with their families to the borders of the kamtschatka, where they hope to find better resources, fish being more plentiful in this river. m. kasloff had intended to proceed along the western coast, having already made his visit through the east; but the news of this famine determined him, contrary to his wishes, to return, rather than be driven to the necessity of stopping half way, or perishing with hunger from the difficulty of procuring dogs and provision. the wind varied considerably during my residence at bolcheretsk; it was most commonly west, north-west, or north-east; it blew sometimes from the south, but seldom from the east. the south and west winds are almost invariably attended with snow. scarcely a week passed, even to the month of january, without our experiencing two or three violent tempests; they commonly proceeded from the north-west. these gales of wind lasted always a day or two, and sometimes seven or eight days. it would have been the height of imprudence to venture out at such a season. the sky was completely obscured, and the snow, supported by these whirlwinds, formed in the air a thick fog, that prevented us from seeing at the distance of six yards. woe to all travellers who are exposed to this terrible weather! necessity compels them to stop, or they run the risk of losing themselves, or of falling every moment into some abyss; for how is it possible they should find their way, or advance a step, when they have to resist the impetuosity of the wind, and to disengage themselves from the heaps of snow that suddenly encompass them? if such be the dangers encountered by the men, what must we suppose the poor dogs to suffer. nothing is more common, when overtaken by these hurricanes, than to find ourselves separated from the sledges of our companions, to the distance of two wersts or upwards from each other, and proceeding in an opposite direction[ ]. the frequency of these tempests, and the deplorable accidents they occasion, convinced us of the necessity of deferring our departure. m. kasloff was equally as impatient to arrive at the place of his destination, as i was to continue my journey, that i might execute my commission with the diligence that had been recommended to me; but every one whose advice we asked, condemned our eagerness, and proved particularly as to myself, that, entrusted with such important dispatches, it would be rashness to proceed. this reflection pacified me. m. kasloff anticipated my wishes, by giving me a certificate, accounting for my long residence at bolcheretsk, by a relation of the circumstances that had occasioned it. the gales of wind having at length ceased towards the middle of january, we eagerly set about preparing for our departure, which was fixed for the of that month. we furnished ourselves in the best manner we could with brandy, beef, rye, flour, and oatmeal. a considerable quantity of loaves were prepared for us, of which we reserved some to supply us during the first few days of our journey, and the rest were cut into thin slices and baked in an oven like biscuits: what was left of our flour, we put into sacks as a resource in time of need. m. kasloff had ordered that as many dogs as possible should be collected. multitudes were presently brought from all the neighbouring ostrogs; we had also provision for them in abundance, the only difficulty was how we should carry it. we had resolved to set off early in the morning of ; but when we came to load our sledges, we found our baggage so considerable, that, in spite of the number of hands employed, it was not completed till the evening. we were out of humour; no day in my life ever appeared so tedious. vexed at the delay, we would not defer our departure till the next day, and were no sooner informed that every thing was ready, than we ran to our sledges and were out of bolcheretsk in a moment. we started at seven o'clock. it was moonlight, and the snow added to its brightness. our departure merits a description. conceive of our numerous cavalcade amounting to thirty-five sledges[ ]. in the first was a sergeant of the name of kabechoff, who was appointed to superintend and direct our procession. he gave the signal, and instantly all these sledges set off in file. they were drawn by three hundred dogs[ ] of equal courage and speed. presently the line was broken, the order disturbed, and all was confusion. a spirited emulation animated the conductors, and it became as it were a chariot race. it was who should drive fastest; no one was willing to be outstripped; the dogs themselves could not bear this affront; they partook the rivalship of their masters, fought with one another to obtain the precedence, and the sledges were overturned, frequently at the risk of being dashed to pieces. the clamour of those who were overturned, the yelping of the struggling dogs, the mixed cry of those that proceeded, and the confused and continual chattering of the guides, compleated the disorder, and prevented us both from knowing and hearing one another. to enjoy this tumult the more at my ease, i quitted my sledge where i was imprisoned, and placed myself in a smaller one, in which, beside the pleasure of driving myself, i could see what was passing around me. fortunately no accident happened, and i had no reason to repent of my curiosity. this embarassment was chiefly occasioned by the concourse of the inhabitants of bolcheretsk, who, from attachment as well as respect, were desirous of accompanying m. kasloff to apatchin[ ], where we arrived about midnight: the distance of bolcheretsk from this ostrog is forty-four wersts. a few moments after our arrival a tempestuous wind arose, which would greatly have incommoded us, if it had happened during our route. it continued the rest of the night and all the next day, which we were obliged therefore to spend at apatchin. here we received the last adieux of the inhabitants of bolcheretsk. i was struck with their gratitude and attachment to m. kasloff, and the regret they expressed at leaving him, as well as their concern for me, and the interest they took in the success of my journey. i was the more pleased with their attentions, as i had observed while at bolcheretsk, that the french nation was not held in any high esteem by them; they had even so bad an opinion of us, that it was with difficulty they were brought to believe what had been told them of the politeness and cordiality of the crews of the french frigates to the inhabitants of saint peter and saint paul. in proportion however as they heard their countrymen extol our conduct, their prejudice grew weaker. i endeavoured by my conversation and behaviour to destroy it entirely. i dare not flatter myself to have succeeded; but it appeared to me that a complete change at last took place in their sentiments respecting us. the disadvantageous impression which they had imbibed of the character and genius of our nation, originated in the perfidy and cruelty exhibited in the person of the famous beniowsky in this part of the peninsula. this slave called himself a frenchman, and acted like a true vandal. his history is known. during the troubles of he served in poland under the colours of the confederates. his intrepidity induced them to make choice of him to command a medley troop of foreigners, or rather robbers, like himself, whom they kept in pay, not from choice but necessity. with beniowsky at their head, they ransacked the country, massacring every one they met. he harassed the russians, to whom he was as formidable as to his own countrymen. they soon felt the necessity of getting rid of so dangerous an enemy: he was taken prisoner, and it may be supposed they adopted no very lenient measures respecting him. banished to siberia, and afterwards to kamtschatka, his fiery and vindictive genius accompanied him. escaped from the mountains of snow, under which the russians supposed him to be buried, he suddenly made his appearance at bolcheretsk with a troop of exiles, to whom he had imparted a spark of his own audacity. he surprised the garrison and took possession of the arms; the governor, m. nilloff, was killed by his hand. there was a vessel in the port; he seized it: every one trembled at his aspect; all submitted to his will. he compelled the poor kamtschadales to furnish him with the provisions he demanded; and not content with the sacrifices obtained, he gave up their habitations to the unbridled licentiousness of his banditti, to whom he set the example of villainy and ferocity. he embarked at length with his companions, and sailed, it was said, towards china, carrying with him the execrations of the people of kamtschatka. this suppositious frenchman was the only one they had yet seen in the peninsula; and from such a specimen of our nation, they certainly could not love, and had sufficient reason to fear us. m. schmaleff quitted us at break of day, and set off for tiguil, on the western coast, to complete the visit of his government[ ]. we left apatchin almost at the same time. our retinue being less numerous we made more expedition. having passed the plain in which this ostrog is situated, we met the bolchaïa-reka, upon which we journeyed for several hours. we followed it through all its windings, sometimes in the middle of a forest, and sometimes at the foot of steep and dreary mountains, which arise at intervals on its banks. fifteen wersts from malkin we left this river, because the current began to put in motion the ice which was broken in different places; and before we reached this ostrog, we crossed the bristraïa. we arrived about two o'clock. the distance from apatchin is sixty-four wersts, and having no change of dogs, we were obliged to stop, to give them time to rest. the toyon of malkin came to meet m. kasloff, and offered him his isba. considerable preparations had been made for our reception, which induced us to pass the night there. he treated us with the utmost respect, and entertained us in the best manner he could. i regretted that his cares had not extended to the article of our repose. mine was terribly interrupted by the noise of our steeds, to which i was not yet accustomed. the shrill and incessant howlings of these cursed animals, seemed close at my ears, and prevented me from sleeping during the whole night. it is necessary to have heard this nocturnal music, the most disagreeable i ever experienced, to judge of what i suffered in habituating myself to it; for in the course of my journey i was obliged to learn to rest in defiance of it. after a few bad nights, sleep at last overpowered me, and i was insensible to all noise. by degrees i became so inured to the cries of these animals, that i could repose in the midst of them in perfect tranquillity. i shall mention in this place, that the dogs are only fed once a day, at the end of their journey; their repast consists commonly of a dried salmon distributed to each of them. the ostrog of malkin is similar to those which i have already described. it contains five or six isbas and a dozen balagans, is situated upon the border of the bistraïa, and surrounded with high mountains. i had no time to visit the hot springs that are said to be in this neighbourhood, the waters of which are strongly impregnated with sulphur; and one in particular, issuing from the declivity of a hill, forms at the bottom a bason of tolerably clear water. from malkin we went to ganal, which is forty-five wersts, but we were unable to travel with the speed we had expected. the bistraïa was not completely frozen, and we were obliged to wind about and to cross woods, where the snow, though deep, was so far from firm, that our dogs sunk to their bellies, and were extremely fatigued. this induced us to abandon this road, and make again for the bistraïa. we came up to it at ten wersts from ganal, and found it in the state we had wished. the solidity of the ice promised us expeditious travelling, and we readily embraced the advantage. we followed this river till we came to the ostrog which is upon its bank, and consists of four isbas and twelve balagans. it offered nothing remarkable. we only learned that there had been some very terrible hurricanes, and that they had not yet subsided, though their force was considerably diminished. there is no difficulty in accounting for the violence of these tempests. the surrounding high mountains form so many recesses in which the wind is embayed. the fewer avenues it has to escape at, the more impetuous it becomes: it seeks out a passage, rushes through the first that offers, breaks out in whirlwinds, scatters the snow over the roads, and generally renders them impassable. having spent a very indifferent night in the house of the toyon of ganal, we set off the next day for pouschiné. the distance is ninety wersts, which however we performed in fourteen hours; but the last half of the journey was very painful. no road being opened, our sledges sunk three or four feet in the snow, and the jolts were so frequent, that i was happy to escape with being only once overturned. we judged from the snow upon the trees, that it must have proceeded from the north, and been very heavy, which was confirmed by the inhabitants. our road lay invariably through a forest of birch trees, and for some time we lost sight of the mountains, by which we had passed the preceding evening; but as we drew nearer to pouschiné they became visible again. the kamtschatka runs by the lower end of this ostrog, which is larger than that of ganal. the only thing i remarked in this place was, that the isbas had no chimneys; they have only, like the balagans, a narrow opening in the roof to let out the smoak, which is frequently closed up by a trap door to confine the heat. it is not possible to continue in apartments warmed in this manner; we must either come out, or prostrate ourselves on the floor, if we would escape being stifled, or at least blinded, by the smoke: it does not ascend directly towards the roof, but spreads a thick black cloud over the chamber; and as it seldom has time wholly to evaporate, the interior part of these isbas is lined with soot, which gives them a disgusting aspect and a most offensive smell. but it is still less unpleasant than the noisome odour exhaled from a dismal lamp, that serves as a light to the whole house. its form is not of the most elegant kind: it is simply a hollow pebble or stone, with a rag rolled up in the middle for a wick, round which is placed the grease of the sea wolf, or other animals. as soon as the wick is lighted, we are immediately surrounded with a dark and thick vapour, which contributes equally with the smoke to blacken the whole room: it seises the nose and throat, and penetrates to the very heart. this is not the only disagreeable smell that is experienced in these habitations; there is another, in my opinion, much more fetid, and which i never could endure; it is the nauseous exhalation from the dried and stinking fish, when it is preparing, when they are eating it, and even after it is eaten. the refuse is destined for the dogs; but before the poor animals get it, every corner of the room has been swept with it. the persons who inhabit these dwellings exhibit a spectacle equally disgusting. here is a group of women, shining from the fat with which they smear themselves, and wallowing on the ground amidst a heap of rags; some of them suckling their children, who are half naked, and bedaubed with filth from head to foot; others devouring with them some scraps of fish perfectly raw, and frequently putrid. there we see others in a dishabille that is not less filthy, lying upon bear's skins, chattering to one another, and frequently altogether, and employed in various domestic occupations, in expectation of their husbands. fortunately the houses of the toyons were cleaned as well as possible for the reception of m. kasloff, who had always the kindness to let me lodge with him. we slept at pouschiné in the house of the toyon, and departed very early the next morning; we only travelled this day thirty four wersts. it seemed that the farther we advanced, the more the roads were obstructed with the snow. my two conductors were continually employed in keeping my sledge upright, to prevent it from overturning, or going out of the road; they were obliged also to exert their lungs to encourage the dogs, who frequently stopped, notwithstanding the blows that were bestowed upon them with equal profusion and address. these poor creatures, whose strength is inconceivable, had all the difficulty in the world to disengage themselves from the snow, which covered them as fast as they shook it off. it was frequently necessary to smooth it before them, to enable them to extricate the sledge. this also was the office of my guides. to support themselves upon the snow, they each fastened a racket to one of their feet, and in this manner they slid along, resting now and then their other foot upon the skate of the sledge. i doubt whether any exercise can be more fatiguing, or require greater strength and skill. the ostrog of charom, at which we had the good fortune to arrive, is situated upon the kamtschatka: it furnished me with no remarks. we passed part of the night there, and left it before day. in seven hours we reached vercknei-kamtschatka, which is thirty-five wersts from charom. vercknei is a very considerable place, compared with the ostrogs i had hitherto seen. i counted more than a hundred houses. its situation is commodious, and the prospect round it tolerably various, besides bordering upon the river[ ], it has the farther advantage of being near to woods and fields, the soil of which is good, and begins to be cultivated by the inhabitants. the church is built of wood; its architecture is not disagreeable, and it is only to be wished that the inside corresponded with the external appearance. the inhabitants differ in no respect from those of the other villages. for the first time i saw at this place a species of buildings, about the height of a balagan, that serve no other purpose than to dry fish. a serjeant had the command at vercknei, who lives in a house belonging to the crown. this village is also the place of residence of the unfortunate ivaschin, whose history i related upon my leaving saint peter and saint pauls[ ]; he was of our party, and had only quitted us in order to arrive sooner at vercknei, where his first care had been to kill one of his oxen, which he entreated us to accept for our journey, as a testimony of his gratitude. this proceeding justified the concern i felt for him, whose aspect alone made me more than once shudder at the idea of his misfortunes. i cannot easily conceive how he was able to support them, and reconcile himself to his fate: it must have been the consciousness of his innocence alone, that could have given him such strength of mind. we paid him a visit upon our arrival. he was drinking merrily with some of his neighbours. his joy was sincere, and gave us no intimation of a man sensible of his past sufferings, or weary of his present situation. our stay at vercknei was short; we set out after dinner in order to sleep at milkovaïa-derevna, otherwise called the village of milkoff, which was at the distance of fifteen wersts. in our way we passed a tolerably large field inclosed with pallisades, and farther on a _zaimka_, that is, a hamlet inhabited by labourers. these labourers were cossacs, or russian soldiers, employed in the cultivation of land on government account. they had eighty horses belonging to the crown, and which equally answer the purposes of industry, and of the stud established in this place for the propagation of animals so useful and so scarce in the peninsula. about five hundred yards from this hamlet, which is called ischigatchi, upon an arm of the kamtschatka, is a water mill built of wood, but not very large. no use could at present be made of it. the swell of water had been so great as to overflow the sluice, and to spread itself over a part of the plain where it was frozen. the soil appeared to be good, and the country round it to be very pleasant. i questioned the cossacs upon the productions of their canton, where i conceived every species of corn might be cultivated with success. they told me that their last harvest had, both in quantity and quality, surpassed their hopes, and was not inferior to the finest harvests in russia: two pouds of corn had produced ten. arrived at milkoff, i was astonished no longer to see either kamtschadales or cossacs, but an interesting colony of peasants whose features and address told me they were not a mixed breed. this colony was selected in , partly in russia and partly in siberia, among the primitive inhabitants, that is, among the husbandmen. the view of administration, in sending them into this country was, that they might clear the land and make experiments in agriculture; hoping that their example and success would instruct and encourage the indigenes, and induce them to employ their labours in this advantageous and necessary art. unfortunately their extreme indolence, which i have already described, little corresponded with the wise intentions of government; and so far are they from pretending to any rivalship, that they have never derived the smallest advantage from the examples that are before their eyes. this extreme sluggishness of the natives is the more painful to an observer, as he cannot but admire the industry of these active emigrants, whose labours have been attended with such beneficial effects. their habitations, situated upon the kamtschatka, seem to shew that they live at their ease. their cattle thrive well from the great care they take of them. i observed also that these peasants had in general very much the air of being contented with their situation. their labour is profitable, and not excessive. every man plows and sows his field, and having only his capitation to pay, he reaps abundantly the fruit of his exertions, which a fertile soil repays him with usury. i am convinced that greater advantages might be derived from this source, if the cultivators were more numerous. the harvest consists chiefly of rye, and a very small quantity of barley. this colony has nothing to do with the chace. government extended its cares so far as to prohibit it, that their labours might be wholly devoted to agriculture, and that nothing might divert their attention. the prohibition however, i could perceive, is not very scrupulously observed. their chief is a _staroste_, appointed by administration, and selected from the old men of the village, as the name implies. his business is to inspect the progress of agriculture; to preside over their feed time and their harvest, to fix the precise period when they are to take place; in short, to stimulate the negligence, or encourage the zeal of the labourers, and particularly to maintain the spirit of the establishment and a good understanding among them. being desirous of going to machoure, to spend a day with the baron de steinheil, i left m. kasloff at milkoff, and set out twenty four hours before him, that i might occasion no delay in his journey. to travel with the greater expedition i made use of a small sledge. the roads were no better or less obstructed with snow than what we had before experienced, and i was therefore unable to make the speed i intended, notwithstanding my precaution. the first village i came to was kirgan. before i reached it, i passed a number of houses and balagans that appeared to be deserted, but i was informed that the summer regularly brought back every year their proprietors. the few habitations which compose the ostrog of kirgan, are built upon the border of a river called kirganik, which is formed by a variety of streams that issue from then neighbouring mountains, and unite above the ostrog, fifteen wersts from milkoff. the cold was so severe, that notwithstanding the precaution i took of covering my face with a handkerchief, my cheeks were frozen in less than half an hour. i had recourse to the usual remedy, that of rubbing my face with snow, and was relieved at the expence of an acute pain that continued for several days. though my face was thus frozen, the rest of my body experienced the contrary effect. i conducted my own sledge; and the continual motion which this exercise requires, added to the weight of my kamtschadale dress, threw me into a violent perspiration, and fatigued me extremely. my dress merits a particular description; by which it will be seen that it gave me no very alert appearance. commonly i wore merely a simple parque of deers skin, and a fur cap, which upon occasion would cover my ears and part of my cheeks. when the cold was more piercing, i added to my dress two _kouklanki_, a kind of parque that was larger and made of thicker skin; one of them had the hair on the inside, and the other on the outside. in the severest weather, i put on over all this, another kouklanki, still thicker, made of argali, or dogs skin, the hairy side of which is always undermost, and the leather or external surface of the skin painted red. to these kouklankis a small bib is fixed before, so as to guard the face against the wind: they have also hoods behind, which fall upon the shoulders. sometimes these three hoods, one upon another, composed my head dress, by being drawn over my common cap. my neck was defended by a cravat called ocheinik, made of sable, or the tail of a fox, and my chin with a chin-cloth made in like manner of sable, and fastened upon my head. as the forehead is very susceptible of cold, it was covered with an otter or sable fillet, and this was covered again by my cap. my fur breeches gave me more warmth than all the rest of my dress, complicated as it was. i had double deer-skin spatterdashes, with hair on both sides, and which are called in kamtschatka _tchigi_. i then put my legs into boots made of deers skins, the feet having an interior sole of _tounchitcha_, a very soft grass, which has the quality of preserving heat, notwithstanding these precautions, my feet, after travelling two or three hours, were very wet, either from perspiration or the gradual penetration of the snow; and if i stood still for a moment in my sledge, they be came immediately frozen. at night i took off these spatterdashes, and put on a large pair of fur stockings made of deer or argali skin, and called _ounti_. notwithstanding my fatigue, i made no stop at kirgan. a few wersts farther on, i perceived a volcano to the north, which emitted no flame, but a column of very thick smoke ascended from it. i shall have occasion to return this way, and will then speak of it more at large. i observed near machoure a wood of firs, tolerably bushy, and which was the first i had seen in kamtschatka. the trees were strait, but very slender. at two o'clock in the afternoon i entered the village of machoure, which is upon the kamtschatka, and thirty-seven wersts from kirgan. i alighted at the baron stenheil's, formerly _capitan ispravnick_, or inspector of kamtschatka, an office afterwards conferred on m. schmaleff. our acquaintance had commenced at bolcheretsk. i was delighted to be able to converse with him in several languages, particularly that of my own country, though it was not very familiar to him; but it was french, and i conceived him to be my countryman. whoever has quitted europe to travel in so distant a part of the world must have had similar feelings. we consider every man as a fellow-citizen who belongs to the same continent, or speaks the same language. the most trivial circumstance that reminds us of our country, is productive of a very sensible pleasure; the heart is eagerly drawn towards the friend, the brother, whom we conceive we have found, and feels an instant desire to repose in him all its confidence. the sight of m. steinheil imparted to me this delicious sensation. there was in his conversation, from the very first moment, an irresistible attraction. i felt a sort of craving to see him, to talk with him; it had the effect of a charm, though his french, as i have said, was not the most pure, and was pronounced with the german accent. i spent the day of february with the baron, and in the evening m. kasloff arrived as he had previously informed me. the ostrog of machoure, before the introduction of the small-pox, was one of the most considerable in the peninsula; but the ravages of this cruel disease, have reduced the number of inhabitants to twenty families. all the kamtschadales of this village, men and women, are chamans, or believers in the witchcraft of these pretended sorcerers. they dread to an excess the popes or russian priests, for whom they entertain the most inveterate hatred. they do all they can to avoid meeting them. this is sometimes impossible, and in that case, when they find them at hand they act the hypocrite, and make their escape the first opportunity that offers. i attribute this fear to the ardent zeal which these priests have doubtless shown for the extirpation of idolatry, and which the kamtschadales consider as persecution. they accordingly look upon them as their greatest enemies. perhaps they have reason to believe, that in wishing to convert them, the overthrow of their idols was not the only thing these missionaries had in view. these popes probably set them no example of the virtues upon which they declaim. it is suspected that their object is the acquisition of wealth, rather than of proselytes, and the gratification of their inordinate propensity to drunkenness. it is not therefore to be wondered at that the inhabitants retain their ancient errors. they pay a secret homage to their god _koutka_[ ], and place in him so entire a confidence, that they address their prayers exclusively to him when they are desirous of obtaining any boon, or of engaging in any enterprise. when they go to the chace, they abstain from washing themselves, and are careful not to make the sign of the cross: they invoke their koutka, and the first animal they catch is immediately sacrificed to him. after this act of devotion they conceive that their chace will be successful; on the contrary, if they were to cross themselves, they would despair of catching any thing. it is also a part of their superstition to consecrate to koutka their new-born children, who, the moment they have left their cradle, are destined to become chamans. the veneration of the inhabitants of this village for sorcerers can scarcely be conceived; it approaches to insanity, and is really to be pitied; for the extravagant and wild absurdities by which these magicians keep alive the credulity of their compatriots, excites our indignation rather than our laughter. at present they do not profess their art openly, or give the same splendour they once did to their necromancy. they no longer decorate their garments with mystic rings and other symbolic figures of metal, that jingled together upon the slightest motion of their body. in like manner they have abandoned the kind of kettle[ ], which they used to strike with a sort of musical intonation in their pretended enchantments, and with which they announced their approach. in short, they have forsaken all their magic instruments. the following are the ceremonies they observe in their assemblies, which they are careful to hold in secret, though not the less frequently on that account. conceive of a circle of spectators, stupidly rapt in attention and ranged round the magician, male or female, for as i have before observed, the women are equally initiated into the mysteries. all at once he begins to sing, or to utter shrill sounds without either measure or signification. the docile assembly strike in with him, and the concert becomes a medley of harsh and insupportable discords. by degrees the chaman is warmed, and he begins to dance to the confused accents of his auditory, who become hoarse and exhausted from the violence of their exertions. as the prophetic spirit is excited in the minister of their koutka, the animation of the dance increases. like the pythian on the tripos, he rolls his ghastly and haggard eyes; all his motions are convulsive; his mouth is drawn awry, his limbs stiffened, and every distortion and grimace is put in practice by him, to the great admiration of his disciples. having acted these buffooneries for some time, he suddenly stops, as if inspired, and becomes now as composed as he was before agitated. it is the sacred collectedness of a man full of the god that governs him, and who is about to speak by his voice. surprised and trembling, the assembly is instantly mute, in expectation of the marvels that are to be revealed. the self-created prophet then utters at different intervals, broken sentences, words without meaning, and what ever nonsense comes into the head of the impostor; and this is invariably considered as the effect of inspiration. his jargon is accompanied either with a torrent of tears or loud bursts of laughter, according to the complexion of the tidings he has to announce; and the expression and gesture of the orator vary in conformity to his feelings. i was furnished with this account by persons entitled to credit, and who had contrived to be present at these absurd revelations. there seems to be some analogy between these chamans, and the sect called quakers. the quakers pretend equally to inspiration, and there are individuals among them, who, guided by its supposed impulse, hold forth in their silent meetings, and break out in piteous lamentations, or sudden starts of extravagant joy. the difference is this: these prompt orators harangue extempore upon the subject of morality, whose fundamental principles they endeavour to recommend; whereas the kamtschadale declaimers understand not a word of what they utter, and only make use of their mysterious and hypocritical jargon to increase the idolatry of their stupid admirers. at machoure the intelligence which m. kasloff had before received from bogenoff, an engineer, was confirmed. he had been sent along the river pengina to fix upon a situation for a town, and trace the plan of it, with directions to proceed afterwards by the western coast of kamtschatka as far as tiguil, and make an exact map of the country as he passed. on his arrival at kaminoi[ ], he told m. kasloff that he had met a considerable number of revolted koriacs, who came out to intercept his passage, and prevent him from executing his mission. it was now added to the account, that they amounted to a body of six hundred men, and that we should not probably be permitted to advance. this was melancholy news, for me particularly, who longed to arrive at okotsk, as if it had been the end of my journey, or as if i could thence reach france in a single day. how distressing the thought, that there was no other way but through this village, and that i should perhaps be obliged to turn back! my impatience made me shudder at the very idea. m. kasloff participated my feelings, and was of opinion with me that the report ought not to stop us. it might not be accurate; the narrators might have given it an air of importance, to which it was not entitled; their fears might have magnified it; and each perhaps had made some addition to the story. these considerations led us to doubt, and we resolved to satisfy ourselves in person of its truth, thinking it time enough to have recourse to expedients if the rebels were actually to oppose our passage. we were presently encouraged by the arrival of an express to m. kasloff, who had met with no interruption, and who assured us that every thing had the appearance of perfect tranquillity. at break of day i took leave of the baron de steinheil, with equal regret and gratitude for his kind reception, and the attentions he had paid me during my short visit. his information and accomplishments rendered him a truly interesting character[ ]. we travelled this day sixty-six wersts upon the kamtschatka, the ice of which was very firm and perfectly smooth. i saw nothing remarkable in my way, nor in the village of chapina, where we arrived at sun-set. we set off early the next morning, and found the snow very troublesome. it was so thick upon the ground, that we were scarcely able to go on. we journeyed all the day though very thick woods of fir and birch trees. about half-way, and again farther on, we met two rivers, one of which was very small, and the other sixty yards wide; it is called the great nikoulka. they are both formed by streams issuing from the mountains, and uniting at this place to pay their tribute together to the kamtschatka. neither of them was frozen, which i ascribed to the extreme rapidity of their current. the spot where we passed them was truly picturesque; but the most singular object was the numerous firs that skirted these rivers, and which seemed like so many trees of ice. a thick hoar-frost, occasioned perhaps by the dampness of the place, covered every branch, and gave to the whole a bright and chrystalline appearance. at some distance from tolbatchina we crossed a heath, from which i could perceive three volcanos; none of them threw up any flames, but merely clouds of very black smoke. the first, which i before mentioned in going to machoure, has its reservoir in the bowels of a mountain that is not exactly of a conical shape, the summit being flattened and but little elevated. this volcano, i was informed, had been at rest for some time, and was supposed to be extinguished, but it had lately kindled again. north-east of this is a peak, the top of which appears to be the crater of a second volcano, which continually throws up smoke, though i could not perceive the smallest spark of fire. the third is north-north-east of the second; i could not observe it as i wished, a high mountain intercepting almost entirely my view. it derives its name from the village of klutchefskaïa, near which it is situated; and i was told that we should pass closer to it hereafter. the two other volcanos are called in like manner after the ostrog of tolbatchina, where we arrived in good time. this village is upon the kamtschatka, forty-four wersts from chapina, but it contains nothing extraordinary. we were informed that there had been a kamtschadale wedding in the morning. i regretted the not having been present at this ceremony, which, as i was told, is nearly the same as in russia. i saw the new married couple, who appeared to be two children. i asked their age. the bridegroom was but fourteen, and the bride only eleven. such marriages would be considered as premature in any country except asia. i had an extreme desire to see the town of nijenei-kamtschatka, and had long thought how to satisfy it; to have left the peninsula without visiting the capital, i should have considered as an unpardonable fault. my curiosity did not interfere with my resolution of travelling with all possible expedition. i was obliged indeed to make a circuit, but it was not so far as to occasion a delay of any consequence. having concerted with m. kasloff, who was anxious to procure every thing that could render my journey agreeable and safe, i engaged to join him at the village of yelofki, where the arrangement of some affairs of his government would detain him several days. that i might lose less time, i took leave of him the evening of our arrival at tolbatchina. but the roads were still worse than any we had yet met with. it was with the utmost difficulty i could reach kosirefski by break of day, a village sixty-six wersts from tolbatchina. i made no stay, elated with having happily escaped all the dangers that beset me in so terrible a road, and in the darkness of the night[ ]. i conceived that i had nothing to fear in the day, and proceeded with a kind of confidence for which i was soon punished. after having travelled a considerable number of wersts upon the kamtschatka, which i had been delighted to find again, and the width of which in this place particularly struck me, i was obliged to quit it and enter a sort of strait, where the snow, driven by the hurricanes, presented an uneven and deceitful surface. it was impossible to see or avoid the rocks that surrounded me. i presently heard a crack that told me my sledge was damaged; it was in reality one of my skates broken in two. my guides assisted me in adjusting it in the best manner we could, and we had the good fortune to reach ouchkoff without any other accident. it was midnight, and we travelled this day sixty-six wersts. my first care was to refit my sledge, which detained me till the next day. there are in this village one isba, and eleven balagans; the number of inhabitants is reduced to five families, who are divided into three yourts. in the neighbourhood is a lake which abounds so much with fish, that all the villages round resort to it for their winter stock. it is also a considerable resource for the capital, which would otherwise be almost destitute of a provision of the first necessity throughout the peninsula. i left ouchkoff early in the morning, and at noon had travelled forty-four wersts, partly upon the kamtschatka, and partly across extensive heaths. the first village i came to was krestoff. it was a little larger than the preceding ostrog, but similar in other respects to what i had before seen. i only stayed to change my dogs. hitherto i had pursued the road which m. kasloff was to take to get to yelofki; but instead of proceeding like him to khartchina, i directed my course, upon coming out of krestoff, towards the village of klutchefskaïa, which is thirty wersts from it. the weather, which, since our departure from apatchin, had been very fine, though cold, changed all of a sudden in the afternoon. the sky became clouded, and the wind, which rose in the west, brought us a heavy snow. it extremely incommoded us, and prevented me from examining as i could have wished, the volcano of klutchefskaïa, which i had seen at the same time with those of tolbatchina. as far as i could judge, the mountain that carries it in its womb, is considerably higher than the other two. it continually throws up flames, which seem to ascend from the midst of the snow, with which the mountain is covered to its very summit. upon the approach of night i came to the village of klutchefskaïa. the inhabitants are all siberian peasants, from the neighbourhood of the lena, and were sent about fifty years ago into this part of the peninsula to cultivate the land. the number of males, including men and children, scarcely exceed fifty. the small-pox attacked only those who had not before been affected with it; but it carried off more than one half of them. these labourers are less happy than those who live in the neighbourhood of vercknei-kamtschatka. the quantity and quality of their last harvest, both rye and barley, exceeded their hopes. these peasants have many horses belonging to them; in the mean time there are some which are the property of government. this ostrog is tolerably large, and appears the more so from being divided into two parts, about four hundred yards from each other. it extends principally from east to west. to the eastward is situated the church, which is built of wood, and in the russian taste. the majority of houses are better constructed, and are more clean, than any i have yet seen. there are also some considerable magazines. the number of balagans is small, and they are very unlike those of the kamtschadales; their form is oblong, and their roof, which has the same declivity as ours, rests upon posts, which support it in the air. the kamtschatka passes at the bottom of the ostrog; it is never entirely frozen in this part. in summer it frequently overflows and enters the very houses, though they are all of them built upon an eminence. four wersts east of the church of klutchefskaïa, is another _zaimka_, or little hamlet, inhabited by cossacs or labouring soldiers, whose harvests belong to government: but i cannot get out of my way to examine it. i made a very short stay at klutchefskaïa, my impatience to see nijenei inducing me to leave it the same evening in order to reach kamini, a kamtschadale village, twenty wersts farther. i arrived at midnight, but merely passed through it. before day i was at kamokoff, twenty wersts from kamini. i soon arrived at tchokofskoi, or tchoka, which is twenty-two wersts farther. from thence to nijenei, the distance is the same, and i travelled it equally in a few hours. i had the pleasure of entering a little before noon into this capital of kamtschatka, which is seen at a considerable distance, but its appearance is neither striking nor agreeable. it presents to our view merely a cluster of houses, with three steeples rising above them, and is situated upon the border of the kamtschatka, in a bason formed by a chain of mountains that raise their lofty heads around it, but which are however at a tolerable distance. such is the position of the town of nijenei, of which i had a higher opinion before i saw it. the houses, amounting to about a hundred and fifty, are of wood, built in a very bad taste, small, and buried beside under the snow, which the hurricanes collect there. these hurricanes prevail almost continually in this quarter, and have only ceased within a few days. there are two churches at nijenei, one is in the town, and has two steeples; the other belongs to, and is in the circuit of the fort. these two buildings are wretchedly constructed. the fort is almost in the middle of the town, and is a large palisaded enclosure of a square form. besides the church, the enclosure contains also the magazines, the arsenal, and the guard-house: a sentinel is stationed at the entrance both day and night. the house of the governor, major orleankoff, is near the fortress, and, its size excepted, is similar to the rest of the houses; it is neither higher, nor built in a better taste. i alighted at the house of an unfortunate exile, named snafidoff, who had suffered the same punishment as ivaschkin, nearly at the same time, but for different causes: like ivaschkin, he had been banished to kamtschatka ever since the year . i had scarcely entered, when an officer from m. orleankoff came to congratulate me upon my happy arrival. he was followed by many of the principal officers of the town, who came one after another in the most obliging manner to offer me their services. i expressed a becoming sense of their civilities, but was mortified at their having taken me by surprise. as soon as i was dressed, i hastened to return my thanks to each of them separately. i began with major orleankoff, whom i found busily preparing for an entertainment that he was to give the next day, upon the marriage of a pole in the russian service, with the niece of the protapope, or chief priest. he had not only the politeness to invite me to the wedding, but came to me in the morning, and conducted me to his house, that i might lose no part of this spectacle, which he rightly judged was calculated to interest me. in the mean time what struck me most was the strictness of the ceremonial. the distinction of rank seemed to be observed with the most scrupulous delicacy. the formality, compliments, and cold civilities, which opened the entertainment, gave it a starched air, that promised more dulness than gaiety. the repast was the most sumptuous the country could furnish. among other dishes there was a variety of soups, accompanied with cold meats, upon which we fed heartily. the second service consisted of roasted dishes and pastry. the dinner had less the appearance of sensuality than profusion. the liquors were the produce of the different fruits of the country, boiled up and mixed with french brandy. but a profusion of the brandy of the country, made from the _slatkaïa-trava_, or sweet herb, which i have already noticed, was almost continually served round in preference. this liquor has no disagreeable taste, and is even aromatic; they use it the more readily, as it is less unwholesome than the brandy distilled from corn. the guests by degrees assumed an air of good humour. their heads were not proof against the fumes of so strong a beverage, and soon the grossest mirth circulated round the table. to this noisy and sumptuous feast a ball succeeded, that was conducted with tolerable regularity. the company were gay, and amused themselves till the evening with polish and russian country dances. the festival ended with a splendid fire-work, that had been prepared by m. orleankoff, and which he himself let off. it was only a trifling one, but it had a good effect, and left nothing to be desired. i enjoyed the astonishment and extasy of the spectators, who were little accustomed to exhibitions of this nature: it was a subject for a painter. rapt in admiration, they exclaimed in full chorus at every squib. the regret they expressed at its short duration afforded me equal amusement. it was necessary to attend to the extravagant encomiums that were unanimously bestowed upon them; and on departing, every individual sighed over the remembrance of all the pleasures of the day. the next day i was invited to the house of the protapope, uncle to the bride, where the entertainment was similar to that of the preceding one, except the fire-work. i have already observed, that the protapope is chief of all the churches in kamtschatka. the clergy throughout the peninsula are subordinate to him, and he has the decision of all ecclesiastical affairs. his residence is at nijenei. he is an old man, not entirely deprived of his vigour, with a long white beard which flows down upon his breast and gives him a truly venerable appearance. his conversation is sensible, sprightly, and calculated to gain him the respect and affection of the people. there are two tribunals at nijenei, one that concerns the governments, and the other takes cognizance of all mercantile disputes. the magistrate who presides in the latter, is a kind of burgomaster, subject to the orders of the _gorodnitch_, or governor of the town. we have already seen that each of these jurisdictions holds from the tribunal of okotsk, to the governor of which it is accountable for all its proceedings. but what most interested me at nijenei, and what i cannot pass over in silence, was my finding there nine japanese, who had been brought thither in the preceding summer, from the aleutienne islands, by a russian vessel employed in the trade of otter skins. one of the japanese informed me, that he and his companions had embarked in a ship of their own country, with an intention of visiting the more southern kurilles islands, for the purpose of trading with the inhabitants. they directed their course along the coast, and were at a small distance from it, when they were overtaken by a violent gale, which carried them out to sea, and deprived them of all knowledge where they were. according to his account, which however i did not altogether believe, they beat about in the ocean for near six months without seeing land; of course they must have had a plentiful stock of provisions. at length they discerned the aleutienne islands, and transported with joy, they determined to make for that coast, without well knowing in what part of the world it was. they accordingly cast anchor near one of the islands, and a small shallop brought them to land. at this place they found certain russians, who proposed to them to unlade their vessel, and remove it to a place of security; but either from suspicion, or perhaps that they thought the next day would be early enough, the japanese peremptorily refused. they had soon occasion to repent of their negligence. that very night there arose a strong gale, during which their ship stranded; and as this was not discovered till break of day, they had the utmost difficulty to save a small part of the cargo, and some pieces of the vessel, which had been almost entirely constructed of cedar. the russians, who had before treated them with civility, now exerted every effort in their power to make these unfortunate people forget their loss. they at length persuaded them to accompany them to kamtschatka, whither they were bound upon their return. my japanese added, that they had at first been much more numerous, but that the fatigues of the sea, and afterwards the rigour of the climate, had taken off many of his companions. my informer appeared to have over his eight countrymen a very distinguished superiority; and he informed us that he was himself a merchant, and the rest only sailors under his command. certain it is, that they entertain for him a singular veneration and friendship. they are penetrated with grief, and shew the greatest uneasiness when he is indisposed, or the least unfavourable accident has befallen him. they regularly send twice a day one of their body to wait upon him. his friendship for them may be said not to be less; not a day passes without his visiting them, and he employs the greatest care that they should be in want of nothing. his name is kodaïl: his figure has nothing in it singular, and is even agreeable; his eyes do not project like those of the chinese; his nose is long, and he has a beard which he frequently shaves. he is about five feet in stature, and is tolerably well made. at first he wore his hair in the chinese fashion; that is, he had a single lock depending from the middle of his head, the rest of his hair round it being close shaved; but he has lately been persuaded to let it grow, and to tie it after the french fashion. he is extremely apprehensive of cold, and the warmest garments given him are scarcely able to save him from it. under these he constantly wears the dress of his country: this consists in the first place of one or more long chemises of silk, like our dressing gowns; and over these he wears one of woollen, which seems to imply that this sort of materials is more precious in their estimation than silk. perhaps however the circumstance arises from some motive of convenience, of which i am ignorant. the sleeves of this garment are long and open; and, in spite of the rigour of the climate, he has constantly his arms and his neck uncovered. they put a handkerchief about his neck when he goes abroad, which he takes off as soon as he enters a house, being, as he says, unable to support it. his superiority over his countrymen was calculated to make him be distinguished; but this circumstance has less weight than the vivacity of his temper and the mildness of his disposition. he lodges and eats at the house of major orleankoff. the freedom with which he enters the house of the governor and other persons, would among us be thought insolent, or at least rude. he immediately fixes himself as much at his ease as possible, and takes the first chair that offers; he asks for whatever he wants, or helps himself, if it be within his reach. he smokes almost incessantly; his pipe is short, and ornamented with silver; he puts into it a very small quantity of tobacco, which he renews every moment. to this habit he is so much addicted, that it was with difficulty they could persuade him to part with his pipe even at meals. he is possessed of great penetration, and apprehends with admirable readiness every thing you are desirous to communicate. he has much curiosity, and is an accurate observer. i was assured that he kept a minute journal of every thing he saw, and all that happened to him. indeed the objects and the customs he has an opportunity to observe, have so little resemblance to those of his country, that every thing furnishes him with a subject of remark. attentive to whatever passes, or is said in his presence, he puts it into writing, for fear of forgetting it. his characters appeared to me considerably to resemble the chinese, but the form of writing is different, these writing from right to left, and the japanese from the top of the page to the bottom. he speaks russian with sufficient ease to make himself understood; you must however be used to his pronunciation to converse with him, as he delivers himself with a volubility that frequently obliges you to miss something he says, or apprehend it in a wrong sense. his repartees are in general sprightly and natural. he employs no concealment or reserve, but tells with the utmost frankness what he thinks of every one. his company is agreeable, and his temper tolerably even, though with a considerable tendency to suspicion. does he miss any thing? he instantly imagines that it has been stolen from him, and discovers anxiety and disquietude. his sobriety is admirable, and perfectly contrasts with the manners of this country. when he has determined to drink no strong liquor, it is impossible to induce him so much as to taste it; when he is inclined, he asks for it of his own accord, but never drinks to excess. i observed also, that, after the manner of the chinese, in eating he made use of two little sticks, which he handled with great dexterity. i requested to see some of the coin of his country, and he readily gratified my curiosity. the gold coin was a thin plate of an oval form, and of about two inches in its longest diameter. it is marked with various japanese characters, and it appeared to be of pure gold, without any alloy, so that it readily bent in any manner you pleased. their silver money is square, smaller, thinner, and lighter than that of gold; he however assured me that at japan this was the superior coin. the copper coin is precisely the same as the _cache_ of the chinese: it is round, and nearly of the size of our two _liard_ pieces, with a square perforation in the middle. i asked him some questions respecting the nature of the merchandize they had saved from their wreck, and i understood, from his answer, that it consisted chiefly in cups, plates, boxes, and other commodities of that sort, with a very fine varnish. i afterwards found they had sold a part of them at kamtschatka. i trust i shall be forgiven this digression upon these japanese; i can scarcely imagine that it will be thought impertinent; it will assist us in becoming acquainted with a nation that we have scarcely an opportunity to see and observe. having spent three days at nijenei kamtschatka, i left it february at one o'clock in the afternoon, to meet m. kasloff, whom i was sure of finding at yelofki. my road for some time was the same as i had already travelled in going to nijenei, and i arrived at tchoka early in the evening. a strong westerly wind almost always prevails in this place. the situation of the ostrog sufficiently accounts for it, which is upon a river that runs between two chains of mountains that stretch along its banks to the distance of twenty five wersts. i passed the night at kamokoff, and the next morning i arrived in a few hours at the ostrog of kamini, or peter's town, where i took the road to kartchina. in my way i passed three lakes, the last of which was very large, and not less than five leagues in circumference. i slept at this ostrog, which is forty wersts from the preceding one, and situated upon the river kartchina[ ]. i set off as soon as it was light, and notwithstanding the bad weather, which lasted all the day, i travelled seventy wersts, which brought me to yelofki. it is upon a river of the same name, and surrounded with mountains. m. kasloff was astonished at my expedition. i had vainly flattered myself, that the moment of our meeting would be that of our departure; but his business was not yet finished, and we were obliged to prolong our stay: he hoped also that m. schmaleff would soon arrive. we had calculated that he would meet us at this ostrog. this expectation, which was fruitless, and the affairs of m. kasloff, detained us five days longer. at length he complied with my impatience, and agreed to set off the , very early in the morning. we travelled fifty four wersts gently enough; but in the afternoon we were suddenly overtaken by a terrible tempest from the west and north-west. we were in an open country, and the whirlwinds became so violent, that it was impossible to proceed. the snow, which they raised in the air at every blast, formed a thick fog, and our guides, notwithstanding their knowledge of the roads, could no longer be answerable for not misleading us. we could not prevail on them to conduct us any farther: and yet it was dreadful to lie to at the mercy of so impetuous a hurricane. as to myself, i confess that i began to suffer extremely, when our guides proposed to lead us to a wood that was not far off, and where we should at least find some kind of shelter. we hesitated not a moment to avail ourselves of their civility; but before we quitted the road, it was necessary to wait till our sledges could be assembled, or we should otherwise run the risk of being separated from one another, and entirely lost. having effected this, we gained the wood, which was happily at the distance that we had been informed. our halt took place about two o'clock in the afternoon. the first care of our kamtschadales was to dig a hole in the snow, which was in this place at least six feet deep; others fetched wood, and a fire being quickly lighted, the kettle was set on. a light repast, and a small dram of brandy, soon recovered all our company. as the night approached, we were employed upon the means of passing it in the least uncomfortable manner. each prepared his own bed: mine was my vezock, where i could lie down at my ease; but except m. kasloff, there was no other person who had so convenient a carriage. how, said i to myself, will these poor creatures contrive to sleep? i was soon relieved from my anxiety on their account. the manner in which they prepared their beds, deserves to be mentioned, though they did not observe much ceremony on the occasion. having dug a hole in the snow, they covered it with the branches of trees, the smallest they could get; then wrapping themselves up in a _kouklanki_, with the hood drawn over their heads, they lay down on their bed as if it were the best in the world. as to our dogs, they were unharnessed, and tied to the trees that were near us, where they passed the night in their usual manner. the wind having considerably abated, we proceeded on our journey before it was light. we had thirty wersts to ozernoi, where it had been our intention to have slept the preceding evening. we arrived at ten o'clock in the morning, but our dogs being extremely fatigued, we were obliged to spend the rest of the day, and even the night there, in hopes that the wind, which began to blow still more violently in the afternoon, would subside during the interval. the ostrog takes its name from a lake that is near it. the river ozernaïa, which is but small, runs at the bottom of the village. the house of the toyon was the only isba i saw, and i was informed that we should meet with no more of these kind of buildings till we came to the town of ingiga. there were, however, fifteen balagans and two yourts. i might here describe these subterraneous habitations; but as they are small in comparison with those which i shall soon have an opportunity of examining, i shall defer my description for the present. we passed also the february at ozernoi, in fruitless expectation of a serjeant of m. kasloff's suite, who had been sent to nijenei-kamtschatka. the next day we reached ouké at a tolerably early hour, which is only twenty six wersts. there we waited again for the serjeant, who had been ordered to join us at this place, but he did not come. there is but one isba at ouké, which, together with a dozen balagans and two yourts, form the whole ostrog. one of the yourts had been cleaned for m. kasloff, and we passed the night in it. we left this village at break of day, and half way on our journey we saw a certain number of balagans, which are only inhabited, i was informed, in the fishing season. near this place we met the sea again, and travelled on the shore for some time. i was extremely mortified at not being able to see at what distance it was frozen, nor what was the direction of this part of the eastern coast of kamtschatka. a north wind incommoded us, and impelled the snow with such violence against us, that our whole attention was engrossed by guarding our eyes from it; there was also a fog that extended from the shore to a considerable distance on the sea, and intercepted almost entirely the view of it. the inhabitants of the country, whom i interrogated upon the subject, informed me we had just passed a bay of no very considerable width, and that the sea was covered with ice as far as thirty wersts from the land. at khaluli, an ostrog, situated upon a river of the same name, sixty six wersts from ouké, and at a short distance from the sea, i found but two yourts and twelve or thirteen balagans; but i had the pleasure of seeing a baidar covered with leather. this boat was about fifteen feet long and four wide; the hull was made of planks tolerably thin, and crossing each other; a longer and thicker piece of wood served as the keel; the timbers were made fast with leathern straps; and the whole was covered over with several skins of sea horses and large sea wolves. i particularly admired the manner in which these skins were prepared, and the compactness with which they were sewn together, so that the water could not penetrate into the boat. its shape was somewhat similar to ours, but less round, and therefore less graceful; it converged towards the extremities, so as to terminate in a point, and had a flat bottom. the lightness of the common baidars, which makes them liable to be overturned, doubtless gave rise to this mode of constructing them, by which they acquire more weight. this boat was placed under a shed built on purpose to protect it from the snow. the toyon of khaluli having given up his yourt to us, we slept in it, being unable to proceed till the next day. the wind had increased since our arrival, and did not abate till the middle of the night. at ten o'clock in the morning we had lost sight of khaluli, and passed an old village of the same name, which had been lately deserted on account of its bad situation. farther on we found some more desolated habitations, formerly the ostrog of ivaschkin, and which had been removed, for a similar reason, thirty wersts from its former situation. we came again to the sea, and travelled for some time on the eastern coast. it forms another bay at this place, which i was desirous of examining, but was, as before, prevented by the fog. i observed that the fog cleared up in proportion as the wind veered to the north-east, which had hitherto been west and north-west. ivaschkin is forty wersts from khaluli, and very near to the sea. it contains two yourts and six balagans, and is situated upon a small river of the same name, which was entirely frozen, as was also one that we had just passed. we slept at this village, and spent a considerable part of the next day there, from the apprehension of a hurricane, which, it was said, threatened us. we were at last relieved from our fears, and though it was tolerably late when we resolved to proceed, we reached drannki, which is thirty wersts. the situation of this ostrog is similar to the preceding one. here we found m. haus, a russian officer: he came from tiguil, and brought m. kasloff various objects of natural history. we left drannki at break of day. in the afternoon we crossed a bay that was fifteen wersts wide, and from twenty-five to thirty deep; the entrance was scarcely less than five wersts: it is formed by the south coast. this coast is low land, gradually declining as it advances into the sea. the bay runs west-north-west and east-south-east. it appeared to me that west-north-west of its entrance, towards karagui, vessels may safely anchor, and be sheltered from the south, the west, and the north winds. the south of its entrance does not afford so good a harbour, as it is said to have various sand banks; i was obliged to trust to report, the ice and the snow preventing me from obtaining any better information. we travelled this day seventy wersts, and came in the evening to karagui, which is upon an eminence, and affords a view of the sea. it has only three yourts and twelve balagans, at the foot of which the river karaga passes. this river pours itself into the sea at the distance of a few gun shots from the ostrog, which is the last in the district of kamtschatka; a hamlet a hundred wersts farther, and containing but few kamtschadales, not being included within its limits. as we were obliged to wait here for a stock of dried fish, not yet come up, and intended for the nourishment of our dogs in the deserts, which we are now to traverse, i shall embrace this opportunity of transcribing various notes made in this and the preceding villages. they will not be placed in the same order as they were written; it must be supposed that the rapidity with which we travelled, frequently left me no choice in this respect[ ]. i shall first speak of the yourts, which i have not yet described, deserving as they are of particular attention. these strange houses are sunk in the earth, as i before observed, and the top, which appears above ground, is like a truncated cone. to form a just idea of them, we must conceive of a large square hole about twelve or fourteen yards in diameter, and eight feet deep; the four sides are lined with joists or boards, and the interstices of these walls are filled up with earth, straw, or dried grass, and stones. in the bottom of this hole various posts are fixed, that support the cross beams upon which the roof rests. the roof begins upon a level with the ground, and rises four feet above it; it is two feet thick, has a very gradual slope, and is made of the same materials as the walls. towards the top is a square opening, about four feet long and three wide, which serves as a passage for the smoke[ ] and an entrance to the yourt, where the women as well as the men go in and out by means of a ladder, or notched beam, that is raised to a level with this opening. there is another very low entrance in one side of the yourt, but it is considered as a kind of disgrace to make use of it. i shall terminate the description of the exterior part of these habitations by adding, that they are surrounded with tolerably high palisades, doubtless as a protection against the gales of wind, or falls of snow; it is said, however, that these enclosures formerly served as ramparts to defend these people against their enemies. we have no sooner descended these savage abodes, than we wish ourselves out again; the view and the smell are equally offensive. the interior part consists of one entire room, about ten feet high. a bench, five feet wide, and covered with various skins, half worn out, extends all round it. this bench is only a foot from the ground[ ], and commonly serves as a bed for a number of families. i have counted in one yourt more than twenty persons, men, women, and children. they eat, drink, and sleep pell mell together, satisfy all the calls of nature without restraint or modesty, and never complain of the noxious air that prevails in these places. it is true there is a fire almost incessantly. the fire-place is commonly either in the middle of the yourt or against one of the sides. in the evening they rake the coals in a heap, and shut the entrance of the yourt, where the smoke should evaporate; and thus the heat is concentrated, and kept up during the whole night. by means of a dismal lamp, the form and disagreeable smell of which i have before described, we discover in one corner of the apartment[ ] a wretched image of some saint, shining with grease and blackened with smoke. it is before these images that the kamtschadales bow themselves, and offer their prayers. the rest of the furniture consists of seats and some vessels, made either of wood, or the bark of trees. their cookery utensils are of copper or iron; but they are all disgustingly filthy. the remains of their dried fish are scattered about the room, and the women or the children are continually broiling pieces of salmon skin, which is one of their favourite meats. the singularity of the children's dress particularly attracted my attention; it is said exactly to referable that of the koriacs. it consists of only one garment, that is, of a single deer skin, that covers and sits close to every part of the body, so that the children seem to be entirely sewed up. an opening at the bottom, before and behind, affords an opportunity of cleaning them. this opening is covered with another piece of skin, which may be fastened and lifted up at pleasure; it supports a tuft of moss[ ], placed like a clout between the legs of the child, and which is renewed as often as it becomes necessary. besides the common sleeves, there are two others hanging to the garment to place the arms of the child in when it is cold; the extremities are sewed up, and the sleeves lined on the inside with moss. there is also a hood fitted to it, made of the same materials as the rest of the dress; but in yourts the heads of the children are almost always bare, and the hood hangs therefore upon their shoulders. beside all this, they have a deer skin girt, which serves as a sash. the women carry their children on their back by means of a string, which passes round the forehead of the mother and under the buttocks of the child. the toyon of karagui, at whose house we lodged, was an old rebel. it was with some difficulty he had been brought back to his duty, and he gave us some uneasiness by his positive refusal to procure us fish. the manners of the inhabitants of this ostrog are very similar to those of the neighbouring koriacs. this analogy is as conspicuous in their idiom as in the dress of their children. i had an opportunity of remarking it the day after our arrival. understanding that there were two hordes of rein deer koriacs at no great distance, we sent immediately a messenger to them to request that they would sell us some of their animals. they readily complied, and brought us the same day two rein deer alive. this supply came very seasonably to the relief of our people, who began to apprehend a want of provisions. meanwhile our dogs were in still greater danger of famine, as the dried fish was not yet arrived. a rein deer was ordered to be killed directly; but when we were desirous of knowing the price of it, we found very considerable difficulty in being able to treat with the sellers: they spoke neither russian nor kamtschadale; and we should never have understood one another, if we had not fortunately met with an inhabitant of karagui, who could serve as an interpreter. there are two sorts of koriacs; those who are properly called by that name have a fixed residence; the others are wanderers, and are known by the appellation of _rein_ _deer koriacs_[ ]. their flocks are very numerous, and they maintain them by conducting them to those cantons that abound with moss. when these pastures are exhausted, they seek for others. in this manner they wander about incessantly, encamping under tents of skin, and supporting themselves with the produce of their deer. these animals are as serviceable for draught to the koriacs, as the dogs are to the kamtschadales. the persons who came to us were drawn by two rein deer. the mode of harnessing and guiding them, as as well as the form of the sledge, ought to be described; but i think it better to defer my description till i come to travel with these people, as i shall be able to be more accurate. our long expected provisions arrived at last on the evening of , and were brought by the sergeant whom we had waited for. we prepared every thing for our departure the next morning, but a most impetuous wind rose in the night from the west and the north-west. this hurricane was accompanied with snow, which fell in such abundance that we were obliged to prolong our stay. nothing short of this bad weather could have detained us. the arrival of our provision had increased our impatience; the supply beside was not considerable, and our necessities were so urgent that we were obliged to begin upon it immediately. it was therefore our interest to be as expeditious as possible, lest our stock should be consumed before we had passed the deserts. the wind abated in the course of the morning, but the snow continued, and the sky seemed to threaten us with a second tempest before the end of the day. it began to rise about two o'clock in the afternoon, and lasted till the evening. to divert our attention, it was proposed to us to try the abilities of a celebrated female dancer, who was a kamtschadale, and lived in this ostrog. the encomiums bestowed upon her excited our curiosity, and we sent for her; but either from caprice or ill humour she refused to dance, and paid no regard to our invitation. it was in vain they represented that her refusal was disrespectful to the governor general; no consideration could induce her to comply. fortunately we had some brandy by us, and a bumper or two seemed to effect a change in her inclinations. at the same time kamtschadale, at our request, began to dance before her, challenging her by his voice and gestures. gradually her eyes sparkled, her countenance became convulsive, and her whole frame shook upon the bench where she sat. to the enticements and shrill song of the dancer, she answered in similar accents, beating time with her head, which turned in every direction. the movements became at last so rapid, that, no longer able to contain herself, she darted from her seat, and in turn defied her man by cries and distortions still more extravagant. it is not easy to express the absurdity of the dance. all her limbs seemed to be disjointed; she moved them with equal strength and agility; she tore her cloaths, and fixed her hands to her bosom with a kind of rage as if she would tear it also. these singular transports were accompanied with still more singular postures; and in short, it was no longer a woman, but a fury. in her blind frenzy she would have rushed into the fire that was kindled in the middle of the room, if her husband had not taken the precaution of placing a bench before it to prevent her: during the whole dance indeed he took care to keep himself close to her. when he saw that her head was perfectly gone, that she staggered on all sides, and could no longer support herself without laying hold of her fellow dancer, he took her in his arms and placed her upon a bench, where she fell, like an inanimate clod, without consciousness, and out of breath. she continued five minutes in this situation. meanwhile the kamtschadale, proud of his triumph, continued to dance and to sing. recovering from her swoon, the woman heard him, and suddenly, in spite of her weakness, she raised herself up, uttered some inarticulate sounds, and would have begun again this laborious contest. her husband kept her back and interceded for her; but the conqueror, believing himself to be indefatigable, continued his jeers and bantering, and we were obliged to exert our authority to quiet him. in spite of the praises that were lavished upon the talents of these actors, the scene, i confess, afforded me no amusement, but on the contrary, considerable disgust. all the inhabitants of this place, women as well as men, smoke and chew tobacco. by a refinement that i cannot account for, they mix ashes with the tobacco to make it stronger. we gave them some snuff, and they applied it not to their nose, but to their mouth. i examined their pipes: they are of the same shape as those of the chinese, made of bone, and very small. when they make use of them, they do not emit the smoke from their mouth, but swallow it with great gratification. all the toyons of the different ostrogs we had passed in coming from ozernoi, out of respect to m. kasloff, had escorted us as far as karagui. the second day after our arrival, they had taken their leave of us to return to their respective habitations. their adieux were affectionate. after making new apologies for not having been able to give him a better reception in the course of his journey, they showed the utmost regret at leaving him, as if he had been surrounded by the most imminent dangers, and offered him whatever they possessed, ignorant of any other way of testifying their attachment. they addressed themselves in like manner to me, and solicited me with earnestness to receive something from them. it was useless to make objections; my refusals only rendered them the more urgent, and to satisfy them i was obliged to accept their presents. let me be permitted in this place to perform a duty which i owe to the kamtschadales in general, for the civility with which they treated me. i have already mentioned their mild and hospitable character, but i have not been sufficiently minute respecting the instances of regard which these good people gave me, and i recall with pleasure the remembrance of their kind reception. there was not, i believe, an individual chief of any ostrog, that did not make me some trifling present. sometimes it was a sable or fox skin, and sometimes fruit or fish, and such other objects as they conceived would be most agreeable to me. one would have supposed that they had resolved, by their attentions to me, to repair the injustice which they had so long committed against the french name. they often thanked me for having undeceived them upon the subject; and sometimes again were tempted to regret it, when they considered that they should see me no more, and that it seldom happened that any of my countrymen visited their peninsula. we left karagui at one o'clock in the morning of march. the weather was tolerably calm, and continued so during the whole day. the only inconvenience we met with, was the not being able to cross, as we had hoped to do, a bay which the tempest of the preceding evening had cleared of its ice: we were obliged to go round it. this bay has considerable depth, is eight or ten wersts wide, and appeared to run in the direction of north-east and south-west. the ice was only broken up as far as the mouth, where it became solid again, and extended into the sea. with the circuit which we were obliged to make, we travelled this day about fifty wersts. upon the approach of night, we stopped in the open country and erected our tents. under the largest, belonging to m. kasloff, were placed his vezock and mine, the door of the one against the door of the other, so that by letting down the windows, we were able to converse together. the other sledges were ranged two abreast round our tents, and the spaces between, being covered with linen or skins, served our guides and our suite as places where they might shelter themselves, and prepare their beds. such was the disposition of our halt. as soon as our kettle boiled we took tea, and then prepared for our supper, which was our only meal every day. a corporal presided as _maitre d'hotel_ and as cook. the meats which were prepared by him were neither numerous nor delicate, but his quickness and our appetites rendered us indulgent. he commonly served us up a kind of soup made of a biscuit of black bread, and mixed with rice or oatmeal. it was prepared in half an hour, and in the following manner. he took a piece of beef, or flesh of rein deer, and put it into boiling water, having first cut it into very thin slices, which were ready in an instant. the evening previous to our departure from karagui, we had killed and begun upon our second deer. we regaled ourselves with the marrow: raw or dressed, i thought it excellent. we had the tongue also boiled, and i conceived that i had never eaten any thing more delicious. we pursued our journey early in the morning, but it was impossible to travel more than thirty-five wersts. the wind had changed to the west and south-west; it blew with extreme violence, and beat the snow in our faces. our guides suffered extremely, less however than our dogs, some of whom, exhausted with fatigue, died on the road, and others were incapable of drawing us for want of nourishment. we could only give them a fourth part of their common allowance, and had scarcely enough left to last two days. in this extremity we dispatched a soldier to the ostrog of kaminoi, to procure us succour, and to send the escort to meet us that was to have waited there till m. kasloff arrived. it was a guard of forty men, sent from ingiga upon the first intelligence of the revolt of the koriacs. we were only fifteen wersts from the village or hamlet of gavenki, where we hoped to find a supply of fish for our dogs; and our confidence was so great that we ventured to give them a double portion, that they might be the better able to convey us thither. having passed the night in the same manner as the preceding, we pursued our journey at three o'clock in the morning. we quitted not the sea coast till we came to gavenki, which was about ten o'clock. the name of the village is derived from the word _gavna_, which signifies excrement; and it is so called on account of its deformity and wretched state. there are in reality but two isbas falling to ruin, and six balagans very ill constructed of bad and crooked wood, which the sea leaves sometimes upon the shore; for there is not a tree in the whole neighbourhood, and nothing to be seen but a few paltry shrubs scattered here and there at a considerable distance from one another. i was not astonished to learn, that not along ago, more than twenty of the inhabitants voluntarily abandoned their country to seek out a better abode. at present the population of this hamlet does not exceed five families, including that of the toyon, and two kamtschadales from the island of karagui, who are settled there. no reason was assigned for this removal, and i doubt whether they have gained by the change. we had not been an hour at gavenki, when a dispute arose between a sergeant of our company, and two peasants of the village, to whom he had applied for wood. they answered bluntly that they would not give him any. from one thing to another the quarrel became violent. the kamtschadales, little intimidated by the threats of the sergeant, drew their knives[ ] and fell upon him; but they were immediately disarmed by two of our soldiers. as soon as m. kasloff was informed of this violence, he ordered that the guilty should be punished as an example. they were brought before the yourt in which we were, and in order to awe the rest of the inhabitants, m. kasloff went out himself to hasten the punishment. i was left with the toyon, who began to complain to me of the rigour with which his two countrymen were treated. the family surrounded me and murmured still louder. i was alone; meanwhile i was endeavouring to pacify them, when i perceived that the governor had left his arms behind him. i hastily caught up our sabres, upon a motion which the toyon made to go out, and followed him. he had already joined m. kasloff, and stirring up all his neighbours, he demanded in a high tone that the delinquents should be released. he was himself, he said, their sole judge, and it belonged to him only to punish them. to these seditious clamours m. kasloff answered only by a stern look, which disconcerted the effrontery both of the peasants and their chiefs. the toyon still muttered some words, but he was seized and forced to assist in the chastisement that he had been so desirous of preventing. one of the culprits was a young man about eighteen years of age, and the other from twenty eight to thirty. they were stripped and laid prostrate on the ground; two soldiers held their hands and their feet, while four others bestowed upon their shoulders a copious distribution of lashes. they were whipped in this manner one after another with rods of dried fir, till their bodies were covered with blood. at the entreaties of the women, whom the weakness of the sex renders every where compassionate, the intended punishment was lessened, and the young man given up to them. they immediately gave him a fine lecture on the folly of his conduct, which they might as well have spared, as he was scarcely in a situation to attend to it, and still less to think of repeating his crime. the severity which m. kasloff observed upon this occasion, was so much the more necessary, as we began to perceive in this village some symptoms of the contagious turbulent disposition of the koriacs. contrasted with the kamtschadales whom we had just quitted, the manners of the inhabitants of gavenki led us to doubt whether it were really the same people. we had as much reason to complain of the moroseness and deceit of the latter, as we had to boast of the zeal and kindness of the former. in spite of all our importunities we could get no provision for our dogs. they coldly informed us that they had none; but their equivocal answers betrayed them, and our people soon satisfied themselves of its falsehood. by means of our dogs, whose nose and hunger were infallible guides, they quickly discovered the subterraneous reservoirs, where the inhabitants had, upon our approach, buried their provisions, though the utmost care had been taken to conceal all vestiges of them, by artfully covering them with earth and snow. at the sight of these caves, and the fish that were drawn from them, these peasants began to alledge the most paltry reasons to justify their conduct, and which only tended to increase our indignation. we had some sentiments of humanity, or we should have taken their whole stock; we contented ourselves with a small part. from the nature of the provisions it appeared that these coasts afforded them salmon, herring, cod, morse and other amphibious animals. there is neither spring nor river of any sort in the neighbourhood, but merely a lake that supplies the inhabitants with water. in winter they break the ice that covers it, and carry home large pieces of it, which they place in a trough suspended in the yourt about five or six feet high. the heat is sufficient to dissolve the ice, and to this trough they have recourse when they are thirsty. near this village is a mountain or kind of kamtschadale entrenchment, which formerly served them as a place of refuge when they revolted. we staid at gavenki only twelve or thirteen hours. we set off in the night for poustaretsk, which is at the distance of more than two hundred wersts from it. we were five days in travelling it, and no journey had ever been so painful. we had no reason to complain of the weather during the first day; but the next we were extremely harassed by the snow and gales of wind, which succeeded without interruption, and with such impetuosity that our conductors were blinded. they could distinguish no object four paces from them, and could not even see the sledge that immediately followed them. to increase our misfortune, our gavenki guide was old and short sighted, and frequently therefore went out of the road. we were then obliged to stop while he went on before to find the vestiges of the road; but how was it possible to find them in so extensive a plain, covered with snow, and where we could perceive neither tree, nor mountain, nor river? the experience of our guide was continually at fault from the badness of the weather, notwithstanding the incredible knowledge he had of these roads. the smallest rising, the least shrub, was sufficient to set him right; meanwhile we calculated that the deviations he occasioned us amounted each day to twenty wersts. at the end of the second day's journey, my dogs were reduced to a single fish, which i divided between them. the want of food soon exhausted their strength, so as to make them unable to proceed. some fell under the blows of our conductors, others refused to draw, and many from inanition died on the spot. of the thirty-seven dogs that were harnessed to my vezock upon leaving bolcheretsk, only twenty-three remained, and these were reduced to the utmost poverty. m. kasloff had in like manner lost a considerable number of his. the famine became at last so great, that we were apprehensive of being starved to death in this desert. not having a morsel of fish left for our dogs, we were obliged to feed them with part of our own provisions; but their share was very moderate, prudence requiring us to observe the most rigid oeconomy. in this woeful conjuncture, we left our equipage in the midst of the way, under guard of some of our conductors, and having chosen the most tolerable of the dogs to supply the place of those which we had lost, we went on. our pain and anxiety continued. we were in want of water. the only little brook that we found was entirely frozen up, and we were obliged to quench our thirst with the snow. the want of wood was another difficulty. not a tree had we seen during the whole journey, and we frequently went a werst out of our way, perhaps for a paltry shrub not a foot long. we gathered all that we saw, for fear of finding none as we proceeded farther; but they were so small and so few as not to enable us to cook our victuals. to warm ourselves was out of the question. in the mean time the cold was extremely rigorous, and from the slow pace that we travelled, we were nearly frozen. almost at every instant we were also under the necessity of stopping to unharness the dogs, that expired one after another. i cannot describe what my feelings were in this situation. my mind suffered still more than my body. the inconveniences that were common to us, i patiently shared with my companions; their example and my youth gave me courage to support them. but when i thought of my dispatches, my constancy forsook me. they were continually in my hands, and i never touched them without shuddering. my anxiety to execute my trust, the view of the many obstacles i had to surmount, the uncertainty of succeeding, all these ideas united to torment me. i endeavoured to dispel them; a moment after some new obstacle brought them to my mind with additional force. upon leaving gavenki, we had quitted the eastern coast, and the western presented itself to our view two wersts from pousteretsk. we had crossed therefore the whole width of this part of kamtschatka, which is not less than two hundred wersts, or fifty leagues. we travelled this extent of country more on foot than in our sledges. our dogs were so weak, that we were willing to fatigue ourselves in order to relieve them, but they were seldom the more alert on this account. our conductors could not make them go on without harnessing themselves in like manner to the sledge, and thus assist them to draw us along; we encouraged them also by throwing them a handkerchief folded up in the shape of a fish. they followed this bait, which disappeared the moment they approached near enough to lay hold of it. it was by these contrivances that we were able to pass the mountain that leads to poustaretsk. from the civil manner in which the women received us, i considered myself as safe the moment i set foot in this hamlet. six of them came to meet us, exhibiting the most absurd demonstrations of joy. we understood, from some words they spoke, that their husbands were gone to the ostrog of potkagornoï in pursuit of whales. they conducted us to their habitations, singing and skipping about us like so many maniacs. one of them took off her parque, made of the skin of a young deer, and put it upon m. kasloff; the rest by loud bursts of laughter expressed their satisfaction at our arrival, which they said was unexpected. this was scarcely probable, but we pretended to believe them, in hopes of meeting with the better fare. we entered poustaretsk march, at three o'clock in the afternoon. our first precaution was to visit all the reservoirs of fish. how great was our mortification to find them empty! we immediately suspected that the inhabitants had acted in the same manner as those of gavenki; and we questioned the women, and ransacked every probable place, persuaded that they had concealed their provisions. the more they denied it, the farther we pursued our researches. they were however fruitless, and we could find nothing. during this interval our dogs had been unharnessed in order to be tied up in troops as usual. they were no sooner fastened to the posts, than they fell upon their strings and their harnesses, and devoured them in a moment. it was in vain that we attempted to retain them; the majority escaped into the country, and wandered about consuming whatever their teeth could penetrate. some died, and became immediately the prey of the rest. they rushed with eagerness upon the dead carcasses, and tore them to pieces. every limb that any individual seized upon, was contested by a troop of competitors, who attacked it with equal avidity: if he fell under their numbers, he became in turn the object of a new combat[ ]. to the horror of seeing them devour one another, succeeded the melancholy spectacle of those that beset our yourt. the leanness of these poor beasts was truly affecting: they could scarcely stand upon their legs. by their plaintive and incessant cries, they seemed to address themselves to our companion, and to reproach our incapacity to relieve them. many of them, who suffered as much from cold as from hunger, laid themselves down by the opening made in the roof of the yourt to let out the smoke. the more they felt the benefit of the heat, the nearer they approached; and at last, either from faintness, or inability to preserve an equilibrium, they fell into the fire before our eyes. shortly after our arrival the guide returned, who had accompanied the soldier sent out six days before to kaminoi to procure us succour. he informed us that our messenger was reduced to the last extremity, and considered himself as fortunate in having found, twelve wersts to the north of pousteretsk, a miserable deserted yourt, where he had sheltered himself from the tempests, which had misled him no less than ten times. the provision we had given him for himself and his dogs was all consumed, and he waited impatiently till he should be relieved from his embarassment, without which it was impossible for him to come out of his asylum, either for the purpose of executing his commission, or of returning back to us. m. kasloff, far from being cast down by this new disappointment, animated our courage by communicating to us the last expedients he had resolved to employ. he had already, upon the intelligence of a whale being driven on shore near potkagornoï, dispatched an express to that village. the utmost expedition was recommended, and he was to bring as much of the flesh and fat of the whale as he could. this resource however being uncertain, m. kasloff proposed that we should sacrifice the small quantity of provision which each of us had intended to reserve for the support of his own dogs. this contribution was for sergeant kabechoff, who had offered to go to kaminoi. in the distress in which we were, the most feeble ray of hope was sufficient to induce us to risk our all. we embraced therefore the proposal with transport, confiding in the zeal and ability of this sergeant. he departed at , minutely instructed upon the subject of his journey, and carrying with him the whole of our provisions. in his way he was to take up our poor soldier, and from thence proceed to fulfil the commission in which he had failed. having taken all these precautions, we exhorted one another to patience, and endeavoured to divert our anxiety by waiting till it should please providence to deliver us. i shall employ this time in giving an account of the observations i made at poustaretsk. this hamlet is situated upon the declivity of a mountain washed by the sea; for we cannot call a river[ ], what is nothing more than a very narrow gulf, which reaches as far as the foot of this mountain. the water is salt, and not drinkable; we were obliged therefore to have recourse to melted snow, which was the only fresh water we could procure. two yourts, inhabited by about fifteen persons, make up the whole hamlet. i mean to include a few balagans that are occupied in summer, and situated farther from the shore. they spend the whole summer in fishing, and preparing their stock of winter provisions. if we may judge from the food that we saw them dress and eat, this part of the country does not much abound with fish. their aliment during our residence among them consisted only in the flesh and fat of the whale, the bark of trees in its natural state, and in buds steeped in the oil of the whale, or the sea wolf, or in the fat of any other animal. they informed us that they frequently caught small cod in the open sea; i know not whether they had any concealed store of this article, but we had searched so thoroughly, and we saw them fare so wretchedly, that we believed them to be really as poor as they appeared to be. their mode of catching rein deer, which are very plentiful in these cantons, is equally sure and easy. they surround a certain extent of land with palisades, leaving here and there an opening, where they spread their nets or snares. they then disperse, in order to drive the deer into them. these animals, by attempting to save themselves, run through the openings, and are caught either by the neck or their horns. a considerable number always escape by tearing the nets or leaping the palisades; meanwhile twenty or thirty men will frequently take at a time upwards of sixty deer. independently of their domestic occupations, the women are employed in preparing, staining, and sewing the skins of various animals, particularly deer skins. they first scrape them with a sharp stone fixed in a stick. having taken off the fat, they still continue to scrape them to make them thinner and more supple. the only colour they stain them is a deep red, which is extracted from the bark of a tree called in russia _olkhovaïa-dereva_, and known to us by the name of _alder_. they boil the bark, and then rub the skin with it till it has imbibed the die. the knives which they afterwards make use of to cut these skins, are crooked, and the invention probably of the country. the sinews of the rein deer stripped very slender, and prepared in like manner by the women, serves them instead of thread, they sew perfectly well. their needles, which have nothing singular, are brought from okotsk, and their thimbles are like those used by our tailors, and are always worn upon the fore-finger. i have already given an account of their manner of smoking, but i must resume the subject in order to relate the fatal consequences that attend it. their pipes[ ] will scarcely contain more than a pinch of tobacco, which they renew till they have satiated themselves; and this is effected in the following manner. by swallowing the smoak, instead of blowing it out, they gradually become so intoxicated that they would, if they were near it, fall into the fire. experience has happily taught them to attend to the progress of this species of trance, and they have the precaution to sit down or to lay hold of the first object within their reach. the fit lasts them at least for a quarter of an hour, during which time their situation is the most painful that can be conceived. their bodies are covered with a cold perspiration, the saliva distils from their lips, their breathing is short, and attended with a constant inclination to cough. it is only when they have brought themselves into this situation, that they conceive themselves to have enjoyed the true pleasure of smoking. neither the men nor the women wear chemises[ ]; their common garment has nearly the same form, but it is shorter, and made of deer skin. when they go out, they put on a warmer one over it. in winter the women wear fur breeches instead of petticoats. the , m. schmaleff joined us. his return gave us the greater pleasure, as we had been very uneasy on his account. he had been absent from us six weeks, and almost a month had elapsed since the time fixed for his meeting us. he had very little provision left, but his dogs were not in so bad a condition as ours, and we embraced the opportunity of fetching our equipage which we had left in the road, and of which we had not since received any news. the south-west wind, which had so much incommoded us in our journey, continued to blow with equal violence for several days; it afterwards changed to the north-east, but the weather only became the more terrible. it seemed as if nature in anger conspired also against us to increase our difficulties and prolong our misery. i appeal to every man who has found himself in a similar situation. he only can tell how cruel it is to be thus chained down by obstacles that are incessantly springing up. we may strive to divert our thoughts, to arm ourselves with patience; our strength will at last fail, and reason lose its power over us. nothing renders a calamity more insupportable, than the not being able to foresee when it will terminate. we had too painful an experience of this upon the receipt of the letters that were brought us from kaminoi. we had no succour to expect from that quarter, kabechoff informed us. the detachment from ingiga were unable to come to us. they had been two months at kaminoi, and had consumed not only their own flock of provision, but also the supply that had been destined for us. their dogs, like ours, devoured one another, and the forty men were reduced to the last extremity. our sergeant added, that he had sent immediately to ingiga as our only resource, and that he expected an answer in a few days; but he feared that it would not be very satisfactory, as the town must be badly stocked with dogs and provisions, after the considerable supply which it had furnished. this melancholy news deprived us of all hope, and we gave ourselves up for lost. our grief and despondence were so extreme, that m. kasloff was at first insensible to the news of his promotion, which he had received by the same messenger. a letter from irkoutsk informed him, that, out of gratitude for his services, the empress had advanced him from the government of okotsk to that of yakoutsk. in any other situation this news would have afforded him the utmost pleasure. a more extensive field was open for the display of his zeal, and a better opportunity for exercising his talents in the art of government. but his thoughts were very differently employed than in calculating the advantages of this new post, every other sentiment yielded to that of our danger, in which he was wholly absorbed. in a moment thus critical, i can only ascribe to the inspiration of heaven, the idea that suddenly occurred to me of separating myself from m. kasloff. in reflecting upon it, i perceived every thing there was in it disobliging to him, and mortifying to me. i endeavoured to drive the idea from my mind, but it was in vain. it returned, it fixed itself there in spite of me. i thought of my country, of my family, of my duty. their power over me was invincible, and i disclosed myself to the governor. upon the first view it appeared to him to be a wild project, and he failed not to oppose it. the desire of executing it, furnished me with a ready answer to all his objections. i proved to him, that by continuing together, we deprived each other of the means of pursuing his journey. we could not set off together without a strong reinforcement of dogs. we had scarcely more than twenty-seven that were at all tolerable, the rest having died or being unfit for service[ ]. by giving up these twenty-seven dogs, one of us would be able to proceed, and his departure would relieve the other from the difficulty of maintaining this small number of famished steeds. but, said m. kasloff, you must still have provision for them, and what means are there of procuring it? i was at a loss how to reply, when we were informed that our express from potkagornoï was arrived. more fortunate than the rest, he had brought us a large quantity of the flesh and fat of the whale. my joy at the sight of it was extreme, every difficulty was now removed, and i conceived myself already to be out of poustaretsk. i returned instantly to my argument, and m. kasloff having no longer any thing to oppose, and applauding in reality my zeal, complied with my solicitations. it was fixed that i should depart the at latest. from this moment we were employed in the necessary arrangements for executing my project with the greatest safety. every thing flattered me with the hope of success. with the melancholy news we had received from kaminoi, there were some consoling circumstances. for instance, we were assured that no obstruction was to be apprehended from the koriacs. a perfect calm was reestablished among them; and, to convince us of it, they had been desirous that some of their countrymen should accompany the soldier charged with the dispatches to m. kasloff. even the son of the chief of the rebels, called _eitel_, was one of the escort. the koriacs, he told us, had long waited with impatience the arrival of the governor, and his father meant to show his respect m. kasloff by coming to meet him. charmed with the idea that we had no longer any thing to fear, at least on this side, we were eager to express our satisfaction to these koriacs for their good will to us. we made them all the presents that our situation would permit, such as tobacco, stuffs, and various articles which i had purchased during my sea voyage, as well as others that had been left me by count de la perouse. we gave them something also for their relations. but our principal care was to make them as drunk as possible, that they might give a favourable report of their reception. it was necessary to consult their taste; and to intoxicate them completely, they considered as the very essence of politeness. i proposed to these koriacs to take charge of two of my portmanteaus. they expressed at first some unwillingness, on account of the distance, which was as far as ingiga. by means, however, of entreaties and my purse, i at last prevailed upon them to take them into their sledges. eased in this manner of my baggage, i had nothing to think of but my dispatches. the effects which i had intrusted to the koriacs gave me little or no concern, as the soldier sent from ingiga would return with them, and had promised to see that the trust was faithfully executed. to the last moment of my stay m. kasloff had been laboriously[ ] employed in preparing his letters, which i was to have the care of. with these he delivered to me a _podarojenei_, or passport, that was to serve me as far as irkoutsk. this passport was also an order to all russian officers and other inhabitants, subjects of the empress, whom i should meet in my way to that place, to assist me with the means of proceeding on my journey with safety and expedition. the foresight of the governor omitted nothing that was necessary for me. had i been the brother of his heart, his attentions could not have been greater. i must pause; for i cannot suppress the emotion i feel at the thought that i am upon the point of quitting this estimable man, rendered for ever dear to me, still more by the virtues of his heart than the accomplishments of his understanding. the generous sacrifice he made is at this moment a weight upon me, and i cannot avoid reproaching myself for having wished it. what do i not suffer upon leaving him in these frightful deserts, without knowing whether he will ever be able to come out of them! the image of his melancholy situation haunts and agitates my mind. ah! i repeat it; it must have been the conviction that there was no other way of executing the trust reposed in me, which impelled me, in spite of the prohibition of count de la perouse, to take this resolution. but for this motive, but for my dispatches, i could never justify to my own heart my eagerness to leave him. may the testimony which my gratitude will ever render for his goodness to me, and his zeal for the service of his mistress, contribute in some measure to his advancement and his happiness; mine will be complete, if i have ever the pleasure of seeing him again, and embracing him in my arms. end of the first volume. footnotes: [ ] if my pen were equal to the subject, what admirable things might i relate of these celebrated men, formed to conduct a grand enterprise with the utmost harmony? but their exploits, and the public esteem, have long placed them above my praises. [ ] called by the russians petropavlosskaia-gaven. [ ] after loading with civilities every individual engaged in the expedition, he was farther desirous of supplying the frigates with provisions. notwithstanding the difficulty of procuring oxen in this country, he furnished seven at his own expence, and could be prevailed upon by no entreaties to accept any equivalent, but regretted that he was not able to procure a greater number. [ ] the navigation is sufficiently safe in summer, and is the only mode of travelling that is adopted. [ ] according to the accounts of the earliest navigators, it is the most commodious port in this part of asia, and ought to be the general depôt for the commerce of the country. this would be so much the more advantageous, as the vessels which frequent the other ports, commonly consider themselves as fortunate if they escape shipwreck; and for this reason the empress has expressly prohibited all navigation after the th of september. i learned a circumstance at the same time, which confirms what i have said, and seems to have occasioned the first idea of these improvements. an english ship, belonging to m. lanz, a merchant of macao, came to anchor in the port of saint peter and saint paul, in the year . captain peters, who commanded the vessel, made proposals of commerce to the russians, of which the following are the particulars. by a treaty which he had entered into with a russian merchant, named schelikhoff, he engaged to carry on a commerce with this part of the states of the empress, and demanded goods to the amount of eighty thousand roubles. these goods would probably have consisted of furs, which the english expected to find a market for in china, from whence they would have brought back in exchange stuffs and other articles useful to the russians. schelikhoff repaired immediately to saint petersburg, to solicit the consent of his sovereign, which he obtained; but while was endeavouring to fulfil the conditions of his engagement, he learned that the english vessel had been lost upon the coast of copper island (_ile de cuivre_) in its return to kamtschatka from the north-west part of america, where it was probable it had sailed, in order to begin its cargo, which it expected to complete at the port of saint peter and saint paul. two only of the crew were known to have been saved, a portuguese and a bengal negro, who passed the winter at copper island, from whence a russian vessel conveyed them to nijenei-kamtschatka. we joined them at bolcheretsk, and it was m. kasloff's intention to send them next season to petersburg. [ ] the word _ostrog_ properly signifies a construction surrounded with pallisadoes. its etymology may be derived, i imagine, from the entrenchments hastily constructed by the russians to protect them from the incursions of the natives, who, doubtless, did not passively suffer their country to be invaded. the appellation of ostrog is now given to almost all the villages in this country. [ ] his name was khabaroff, and he had the rank of a _préporchik_, or ensign. [ ] at a little distance from this spot was buried, at the foot of a tree, the body of captain clerke. the inscription which the english placed upon his tomb, was on wood, and liable to be effaced. count de la perouse, desirous that the name of this navigator should be immortalised, without having any thing to fear from the injuries of the weather, substituted instead of it an inscription on copper. it is needless to mention, that he enquired at the same time where the famous french astronomer, from the island of croyere, had been buried. he entreated m. kasloff to order a tomb to be erected, and an epitaph, which he left engraved on copper, to be placed on it, containing an elogy, and the circumstances of the death of our countryman. i saw his intentions carried into execution after the departure of the french frigates. [ ] there is a volcano about fifteen or twenty wersts from the port, which the naturalists who accompanied count de la perouse visited, and which will be mentioned in his voyage. the inhabitants informed me that smoak often issued from it, but that an eruption, which used to be frequent, had not happened for many years. [ ] the excessive cold of which the english complain, may not be without example; and i pretend not to contradict them. but as a proof that the rigour of the climate is not so very piercing, the inhabitants, whom they represent as not daring to come out of their subterraneous dwellings, or _yourts_, during the whole winter, for fear of being frozen, no longer construct any of these caves in this southern part of the peninsula, as i shall have occasion to observe elsewhere. i acknowledge, however, that the cold which i experienced during my abode there, and which may be compared to that of the winter of , appeared to me very similar to what is felt at saint petersburg. what the english must have had reason to suppose extraordinary, are the dreadful hurricanes, which bring on such thick and heavy storms of snow, that it is not possible either to venture out, or to advance, if we are on a journey. i experienced this more than once, as will be seen in the sequel. [ ] m. schmaleff is inspector general for the kamtschadales, or, as it is called in russia, _capitan-ispravnik_ for the department of kamtschatka; he is the same person whom the english had so much reason to praise, and the good offices he rendered us intitle him equally to our esteem. [ ] secretary to the governor; he is employed in civil affairs, and ranks as an officer. [ ] m. ivaschkin is the unfortunate gentleman mentioned by the english, and who merits in every respect the eulogium bestowed on him. the mere recital of his misfortunes is sufficient to excite the compassion of every reader; but it is necessary to have seen and observed him, to judge of the extreme interest which his unhappy lot is calculated to inspire. he was not twenty years of age, when the empress elizabeth made him serjeant of her guard of preobrajenskoi. he already enjoyed a certain credit at court, and the free access to the sovereign, which his office gave him, opened the most brilliant career to his ambition; when all at once he saw himself not merely disgraced and deprived of all his flattering hopes, but treated as the greatest criminal; he was _knowted_, which is the severest and most degrading punishment practised in russia, had his nose slit, and was banished for life to kamtschatka. the english have told us what he suffered for more than twenty years, from the rigour with which he was treated; he was denied even the first necessaries of life, and must infallibly have perished of hunger and misery, or fallen a prey to despair, if the force of his mind and the strength of his constitution had not supported him. the necessity of providing for his own subsistence, compelled him, not without disgust, to naturalize himself with the kamtschadales, and to adopt entirely their mode of living; he is clothed like them, and by means of hunting and fishing is enabled to procure, not merely a sufficiency for his wants, but a superfluity, from the sale of which he obtains some little conveniencies that seem to sweeten his miserable existence. he resides at vercknei-kamtschatka, or upper kamtschatka. the russians are ignorant of the cause of so severe a punishment; they are disposed to attribute it to a misunderstanding, or some indiscreet words, for they know not how to suppose him capable of a crime. it seems as if a change of sentiment had taken place respecting the pretended enormity of his offence, a proposal having been lately made of changing the place of his banishment, and removing him to yakoutsk, a town that offers a variety of resources, both for profit and pleasure. but this unfortunate being, who is from sixty to sixty-five years of age, has refused to avail himself of this permission, not wishing, as he said, to make a show of the hideous marks of his dishonour, and to blush a second time at the dreadful punishment he has undergone. he preferred the continuing to live with the kamtschadales, having but one desire left, that of passing the few remaining days of life with those who know his integrity, and of carrying with him to his grave the general friendship and esteem, to which he is so justly intitled. the accounts given by the english, excited in count de la perouse a desire to see this unfortunate man, who inspired him from the first moment with the most lively pity. he received him on board his ship, and at his table. the count's humanity was not confined to compassionating his miseries; he sought every means of softening them, by leaving him whatever was calculated to remind him of our abode there, and prove to him that the english are not the only foreigners interested in his sorrowful lot. [ ] _baidars_ are boats somewhat similar to european ones, except that the sides are made of planks from four to six inches wide, and fastened together with withies or cords, and that they are caulked with moss. the baidars are the only vessels made use of to sail to the kurilles islands, they are commonly rowed, but will admit of a sail. [ ] his name is _feodor vereschaguin_; he succeeded his eldest brother romanoff vereschaguin, who shewed so many civilities to captain clerke, and whom i afterwards found at bolcheretsk. [ ] his predecessor had informed the english that this parish was to be immediately transferred to the ostrog of st. peter and st. paul; but this cannot take place till the projected improvements respecting the port are carried into execution. we cannot help observing, that the english have omitted to mention that there was formerly a church at st. peter and st. paul's, and that its situation is known by means of a sort of tomb which formed a part of it. [ ] this river empties itself, as i have already said, into the bay of avatscha. the shoals, which are commonly dry at low water, render its entrance impracticable; it is even difficult at high water. [ ] as i stood to examine the kamtschadale houses, i frequently imagined to myself the disdainful surprise that our french sybarites would express at the sight, some of whom are so proud of their vast hotels, and others so jealous of their little neat and decorated apartments, where the art of arrangement scarcely falls short of the refined luxury of superb furniture. i conceived them to exclaim--how can human beings live in these miserable huts! a kamtschadale however, is by no means unhappy in these cabins, whose architecture seem to lead us back to the first age of the world; he lives there with his family in tranquillity; he enjoys at least the happiness of knowing few privations, and of having therefore less wants, and has no objects of envious comparison before his eyes. [ ] i met with some afterwards in the northern part, which i took care to examine, and have described in their proper place. [ ] as i shall soon be obliged to adopt this mode of travelling, i shall defer my description of the dogs till that period. [ ] they produce an effect somewhat similar to the oiled paper in the windows of our manufactories. [ ] a werst is exactly ten hundred yards. this seems not accurately to agree with the scale of wersts in the map. we leave it to the reader to follow which authority he pleases. t. [ ] a russian name which signifies, _large river_. [ ] formerly they dared not approach these springs, or any volcano, from the idea that they were the abode of evil spirits. [ ] m. kasloff gave some of this gum to one of the naturalists of our expedition, the abbé mongés, while the frigates were at saint peter and saint paul. [ ] m. kasloff, who presided in this chace, had the politeness to make me a present of this sable, called in this country _sobol_, and promised to add it to another, that i might bring a couple with me to france. [ ] these skins are not only a considerable branch of commerce, but serve as a species of money with the kamtschadales. [ ] see cook's voyage, vol. iii. p. . [ ] when these galliots are obliged to winter here, they harbour in the mouth of a narrow and deep river, which pours itself into the bolchaïa-reka, about fifty yards from the hamlet, higher up. [ ] this guard-house is likewise used as a prison, and even as a school for children. the master of the school is a japanese; he is skilled in many languages, and is paid by government for instructing the children of this country. [ ] their pay is so inconsiderable, that the receipt of a whole year would not suffice to maintain them for a single month, if they had not the resource of a petty fraudulent commerce, of which i shall presently give an account. [ ] this is well known to be the ruling passion of all the people of the north; but i have had more than one occasion to observe, that the kamtschadales are inferior in this respect to none of them. the following story, among others, was told me, that i might be able to judge of the rapacity of these vagabond traders, and the stupid prodigality of their dupes. a kamtschadale had given a sable for a glass of brandy. inflamed with a desire of drinking another, he invited the seller into his house. the merchant thanked him, but said he was in a hurry. the kamtschadale renewed his solicitations, and proposed a second bargain: he prevailed.--"come, another glass for this sable, it is a finer one than the first.--no; i must keep the rest of my brandy; i have promised to sell it at such a place, and i must be gone.--stay a moment; here are two sables.--tis all in vain.--well, come, i will add another.--agreed, drink." meanwhile the three sables are seized, and the hypocrite makes a fresh pretence to come away: his host redoubles his importunities to retain him, and demands a third glass: further refusals and further offers: the higher the chapman raises his price, the more the kamtschadale is prodigal of his furs. who would have supposed that it would have ended in the sacrifice of seven most beautiful sables for this last glass! they were all he had. [ ] a russian measure containing from fifteen to twenty quarts. [ ] eighteen pounds sterling, estimating the rouble at four shillings and sixpence. [ ] nine pounds nine shillings. [ ] articles of apparel made of the skins of rein deer are procured from the koriacs. [ ] by the name of _lilium flore atro rubente_. [ ] the cossacs use rye also, which makes a sort of black bread, like that of the russian peasants. government allows them a certain quantity of rye flour, but it is insufficient, and they are obliged to procure more at their own expence. some of them lay it up in store in order to profit by its future sale. [ ] it is called in kamtschatka, _tscheremscha_. gmelin denominates it: _allium foliis radicalibus petiolatis, floribus umbellatis_. vol. . p. . [ ] _spondilium foliolis pinnatifidis._ see linn. the juice of the rind of this plant is so acrid, that it is impossible to touch it without blistering the hand. in gathering it they take care to wear gloves. [ ] this brandy intoxicates much quicker than french brandy; whoever drinks it, is sure to be extremely agitated during the night, and to feel the next day as melancholy and restless as if he had committed some crime. [ ] daria is a female russian name. [ ] the kamtschadales are unable to shoot without this means of resting their gun, which, from the time required to prepare it, is evidently inconsistent with the celerity of this instrument, its chief advantage to a sportsman. [ ] it is common enough also for it to take to flight, notwithstanding its wound, and conceal itself in thickets or rushes, where it is traced by means of its blood, and found either dead or expiring. [ ] i was assured that when a bear triumphs over his aggressor, he tears the skin from the skull, draws it over his face, and then leaves him; a mode of revenge which implies, according to the kamtschadales, that this animal cannot bear the human aspect; and this strange prejudice supports them in the opinion of their superiority, and seems to inspire them with additional courage. [ ] they hunt the bear in this manner in every season of the year, except when the country is covered with snow; their method is then different. it is known that in winter the bear retreats to the den which he has fabricated during summer of the branches of trees; he continues there while the frost lasts, either asleep, or licking his paws. the kamtschadales pursue him in their sledges, and attack him with their dogs, who oblige him to defend himself: he rushes from his lurking place to certain death; if he refuse to come out, his fate is equally certain, and he is crushed to death under the ruins of his den. [ ] these animals are all described in cook's voyage. [ ] the flesh of bears, argali, and rein deer, is considered by them as very wholesome, the last particularly; i frequently feasted upon it. [ ] the aleutienne islands, schoumagine islands, fox islands, &c. [ ] their nets are made of pack thread, like ours; they purchase it of the russians: there is another kind however, which they fabricate themselves from nettles, of which they take care to lay up a considerable store. they gather them in autumn, tie them in bundles, and place them under their balagans to dry. when their fishing and harvests are compleated, they prepare their nettles. they slit them, and then strip off the rind expertly with their teeth; the rest they beat and shake till the filaments are separated, and it is fit for spinning. [ ] they are castrated like horses, but the mode of performing the operation is different. the kamtschadales do not extirpate the testicles, but bruise them, and the instrument they make use of is their teeth. some of them do not survive, and others are crippled and unfit for service. in the mean time it is imagined that equal advantage could not be derived from these animals, if they were permitted to remain in their natural state; it would not be practicable to harness them with females. all the males, however, are not mutilated; a sufficient number is reserved for the preservation of the species, and these are frequently used for hunting. [ ] the sledges for baggage are called _narta_, and are drawn by ten dogs. [ ] called _alaki_. [ ] this stick is called _oschtol_. [ ] the dogs feeling their burthen become lighter, advance with such speed as frequently not to stop till they have exhausted themselves with fatigue, or dashed the sledge to pieces against the trees. [ ] the snow began to fall november, and so heavily, that the country was covered almost immediately. but the frost being later, and gusts of wind continuing almost without cessation, the sledges could not conveniently be used till a considerable time after, as will be seen in the sequel. [ ] these rackets are called _ligi_. in the northern part of the peninsula they use another sort of racket, called _lapki_, which are shorter, and made of leathern thorns twisted, like the firings of a tennis racket; two small sharp pointed bones are fixed in the bottom, which penetrate the ice, and are a preservative against sliding. [ ] a kind of close coach to sleep in, and which is fitted to the sledge. it is like a carriage very common in russia, called _vezok_; mine was lined with bear's skin, and covered with the skin of the sea wolf. [ ] in an ostrog at some distance from bolcheretsk, i had afterwards an opportunity of considering this subject more fully, and my observations will be found in their proper place. [ ] the revolution which took place in kamtschatka respecting the chamans, is the precise history of all our mountebanks. similar in their impostures, their reign and their fall are similar. various reflections might be made on this subject. that a people equally simple and uninformed, like the kamtschadales, should for a time have been the dupes of the impostures of their magicians, is not astonishing, and will admit of an excuse: but that such extreme ignorance and credulity should be made sensible of their error, and blush at it, is a matter of surprise and congratulation; for even with the most enlightened nations of europe, do not some kinds of chamans spring up every day, equally perfidious and destructive! they have all in the mean time their apostles, their proselytes, and a prodigious number of martyrs. [ ] a russian weight equal to about thirty-three pounds. [ ] these hurricanes prevail chiefly in the months of november, december, and january. [ ] they were chiefly common sledges, such as we have already described, page . some were closed in the manner of _vezocks_ or _kibicks_; mine was of this description, as i have mentioned, page . in the thirty-five sledges do not include those of the inhabitants of bolcheretsk, who accompanied us as far as apatchin. [ ] forty-five dogs were harnessed to m. kasloff's sledge, and thirty-seven to mine. [ ] i had passed through this village on my road to bolcheretsk, and have described it, page . [ ] another object of this journey was to procure us provisions. we rejoined him afterwards, as will be seen in the sequel. [ ] the kamtschatka, which was not yet frozen. [ ] see page . [ ] this object of their worship is accurately described in steller. [ ] a sort of _tambour de vasque_ called _bouben_. it is still in use amongst the yakoutsk, as will be seen hereafter. [ ] a village upon the border of the river pengina. [ ] i had the misfortune, while at machoure, to lose the sable m. kasloff had given me, which died in spite of all the cares i took of it. i preserved however the skin. it had been a considerable amusement to me to observe its motions. its extreme activity rendered its chain insupportable. it frequently attempted to escape, and would infallibly have succeeded, if i had not watched it continually; and i never caught it again without experiencing the marks of its teeth. it fed upon fish and meat; the latter was preferred, and is the favourite food of these animals in their wild state. their address in catching birds and animals inferior to themselves, is astonishing. mine slept almost all day, and made a continual racket in the night by shaking its chain; but timid to excess, it ceased to make the least noise when it saw any one coming, and began again the moment it was alone. i used to let it out several times a day, and as soon as it was upon the snow, it began to burrow and conceal itself under it like a mole, appearing every now and then, and hiding itself again immediately. [ ] i learned afterwards that the sledge of m. kasloff, who passed at noon day, had barely escaped from being dashed to pieces in running against a tree, and that two of his conductors had been hurt by the violence of the shock. [ ] the villages have almost universally the same name as the rivers upon which they are placed, those only excepted which are upon the kamtschatka. [ ] i shall be censured perhaps for making my narrative abound with dry and uniform details. i would willingly spare the reader in this respect, if i had not promised to observe the utmost accuracy. let him consider the objects with which i am surrounded in the immense extent of country that i travel, and he will perceive that they are almost always the same. does it then depend upon me to vary my descriptions, and avoid tautology? [ ] there is such a continual smoke in these subterraneous habitations, that the opening in the roof is not sufficient to let it out, and there is therefore in an unoccupied corner of the yourt, behind the fire-place, a kind of vent-hole in an oblique direction. it is called _joupann_; it terminates without, at a little distance from the square opening, and is commonly closed up with a mat or straw covering. [ ] some of the yourts which i saw were floored with planks; but this is regarded as a luxury, and the generality have no other floor than the ground. [ ] this nook is in a manner distinct from the room, and is less filthy, because it is less frequented. it is a place of honour set apart for strangers. [ ] they make use of the herb called _tonnchitcha_ for the same purpose. [ ] there are some of these wandering koriacs, i am told, in the island of karagui, which is twenty-six wersts from the village of that name. i had before imagined that i could perceive this island at a distance. [ ] these knives are about two feet long; they are worn in their girdle, and hang upon the thigh. [ ] to guard ourselves against these famished dogs we never dared to go out without our sticks, or some kind of arms to drive them off. [ ] it is called by the people of this country _poustaïareka_, or desert river. this gulf was entirely frozen over. [ ] the tubes of these pipes are made of wood, with a slit from one end to the other. thus they open in the middle, and the smoakers, from oeconomy, scrape the inside after using, and make a second regale of the filings. [ ] in describing the dress of the kamtschadales, we observed that they wore under their parque a small chemise made of nankin, or cotton stuff. [ ] the reader will recollect that upon leaving bolcheretsk, we had a troop consisting nearly of three hundred. [ ] it was really a labour, and a most fatiguing one, if we consider that in these yourts it was not possible to write, without lying upon the ground; we were also suffocated with smoke, and the ink froze by our side. transcriber's notes obvious errors of punctuation and diacritics repaired. the following archaic spellings have not been changed: alledge, but-end, carabine, centinel, chace, compleated, extasy, seise, smoak. hyphen removed: oat[-]meal (p. ), rein[-]deer (p. ), stair[-]case (pp. , ). p. viii: with sorrow and affecton -> with sorrow and affection. p. xiv: klatchefskaïa inhabited by siberian peasants -> klutchefskaïa inhabited by siberian peasants. p. xv: we are apprehhensive => we are apprehensive. p. xv: desription of poustaretsk -> description of poustaretsk. p. : they sat sail -> they set sail. p. : kaslof -> kasloff. p. : surrendering myself implicity -> surrendering myself implicitly. p. : kosloff -> kasloff. p. fn: couveniencies -> conveniencies. p. : preserved to them this priviledge -> preserved to them this privilege. p. : kamtscadales -> kamtschadales. p. : they disperse in crouds -> they disperse in crowds. p. : lessons which thy gave -> lessons which they gave. p. : progess of reform -> progress of reform. p. : facinated my eyes -> fascinated my eyes. p. : haunt of this annimal -> haunt of this animal. p. fn: if he refuse to come out -> if he refuses to come out. p. fn: rain-deer -> rein deer. p. : unclear word restored as "meanwhile". p. : in like mannner -> in like manner. p. : whose business is to vsiit -> whose business is to visit. p. : no particular priviledge -> no particular privilege. p. : eighbouring mountains -> neighbouring mountains. p. : acquisiton of wealth -> acquisition of wealth. p. : the veneration ... for sorcecerers -> the veneration ... for sorcerers. p. : there are individuls -> there are individuals. p. : we sat off early -> we set off early. p. : verknei-kamtschatka -> vercknei-kamtschatka. p. : as as well as the form -> as well as the form. p. : kamtaschadale -> kamtschadale. p. : large peices of it -> large pieces of it. p. : we sat off in the night -> we set off in the night. p. : view of the many obstactles -> view of the many obstacles. p. : preserve an equiliribum -> preserve an equilibrium. p. : he departed the -> he departed at .